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tootditoot · 2 months

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The Plague of Time

The wind brushed the raven-black hair of Fléu as she waltzed through the meadows that was painted in rustic light brown. She hopped over the roaming insects in the meadow and carefully side stepped the twigs upon her path. Fléu would even twist and turn as if she was a ballet dancer and the land was her ballroom. Her dress that was adorned with embellishments and ornamentations depicting vines and branches graciously flew with the wind as her floppy silk hat, with a peacock feather in its rim, covered her from the rays of the harsh sun.

When the sun would set, she would then again return to her cottage, but not after collecting and picking daisies from nature’s gardens.

“Ever so pretty and blossoming! A shame that one cannot retain their beauty once pluck from its stem!” Fléu proclaimed jovially to nobody as she stored each daisy flowers into a basket.

But alas, such days of spring and summer never last. Winter came the next morning, and so the meadows withered and hid under a thick blanket of snow. She; however, persisted: Through the lens of her bird mask, she gazed upon the fields she used to roam in the summer, now covered in snow. Fléu thought to herself: “Why of all lands from the north to the south, did the winter chose to scourge mine?”

Thinking of a way to remove the snow from her fields, she went back to the cottage and boiled water in a huge pot.

Fléu watched as bubbles of all sorts popped up in her pot. “Aha! Surely this shall drive away the winter’s icy grips from the land of mine!”

She went outside again, now dragging a huge pot of boiling water behind her. “Begone, O Winter! I offer not but an inch of mine harvest unto you!” Fléu shouted at the field of snow before throwing her boiling pot at the snow-covered field, but such a pot of boiling water was not able to melt the fields entirely. “Hmph!” Her cheeks puffed red, seeing the failure of the plan that she had devised, she went back to her cottage stomping the snow on the way in.

As she paced back and forth within the living room of her cottage, she began to ponder:

“What else is there to drive away winter but the heat of the great orb that floats upon us all?”

She glimpses outside her window and observed the sky, surely enough, the fiery orb she spoke off was hidden beneath the winter clouds much like the landscape covered beneath winter’s blanket.

“Eureka!” Fléu slammed her table. “I shall not go outside to spite winter’s arrival!” She patted herself on the back for the brilliant plan she thought off. “Now then winter! We shall see who dominates this realm!”

She sat on the chair next to the cottage’s window to witness the snow melt from her fields; just waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting… until her eye lids finally had enough of spitefully looking at the winter storm and shut itself to rest.

Not but a moment passed and she shook herself back to life. “Ah! Winter! You think I would missed a moment of your demise?! Think again!” She said as she rubbed the glass lenses on her mask, she took a glance of the window, but something was strange. She couldn’t see a speck of snow outside. How long has it been since she was asleep? Days? Months? Years? It can’t be, she only closed her eyes for a mere moment and yet, winter suddenly vanish as if it was just thin air.

Her mind was riddled at first as she gazed off into the once again blossoming meadow, but it felt somewhat strange to her that winter suddenly disappeared without a trace but she shrugged it off. Kicking down her cottage door in excitement, Fléu waltzed again to the meadow she once knew and loved, but something was different, she could not help but notice the meadow’s grass was taller and much rougher than before, but as she walked deeper within the meadow it finally hit her.

“My meadow that was sweet and luscious! Who had defiled you and laid waste upon my land?!” She looked around, half of her meadow was now turned into a wheat field and could not have been more confused. Where did this wheat field come from? When was the land plowed? Many questions rang about in her mind as she scanned her land, but none could answer her queries

Thinking what may have caused this, Fléu’s thoughts were interrupted when she spotted something in the corner of her vision. On the far end of the field, she saw two moving silhouettes heading back into a dense forest path. Fléu shouted at them: “Halt! Halt I say!” The silhouettes stood still at her call.

As Fléu tore a path in the wheat field with haste to them, the closer she got, the more it became apparent they were fellow human beings, the first of whom she saw was a man who sported an unshaven beard and wore a ragged shirt and a hay-made hat while the other was a woman who wore a hole-torn dress and a cap. Both of their faces were scribbled with curiosity and a hint of fear as Fléu stepped forward to them.

“Who art thou?” Fléu said in the poshest of voices.

The man hesitantly stood in front of his companion, puffing up his chest, he replied: “We are but humble farmers, Madame, we mean no offense to you.”

“And what of this then?” Fléu gestured to the wheat fields behind her. “Surely you must know that this wheat field that was once a meadow belonged to me, yes?”

“T-that would be ridiculous, Madame!” The woman spoke up. “This wheat fields were passed unto us through our grandfather, the only meadow we know of is two acres away!”

“Fatima! Keep your voice down.” The man took of his hay hat and bowed sincerely to Fléu, “Pardon my sister for her ill-manners, Madame, but what she tells is true. This wheat field had always been a wheat field for decades.”

Fléu adjusted her bird mask as she heard of this. She couldn’t be mistaken, just before winter had arrive, this wheat field wasn’t here before, hell, there was no wheat field to begin with, only her grassy planes and meadows, just what had happened?

“Excuse me, Madame,” The girl who her companion introduced as Fatima tilted her head at Fléu: “Not to be inquisitive, but may I ask why you wear a bird mask whose beak curls up at the end?”

Fléu chuckes at her comment. “Merely allergic to pollen, that is all. I love a flare of dramatics too.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, was it, by chance, winter yesterday?”

“Winter yesterday?” The man replied with his eye brows raised. “Winter isn’t yet to come until a few months.”

Now that is strange, in Fléu’s perspective, snow was falling heavily yesterday, but now they say that winter hasn’t come yet? She stood fazed at the siblings as she tried to make sense of it all.

“Uhm, Madame?” Fatima waved a hand in front of Fléu’s face.

“O-oh, yes?” Fléu jumped at her gesture.

“You seem aghast, would you like a cup of tea in our place? It’s not quite far up, our home is by the forest.” Fatima smiled at her and her brother nodded to Fléu.

Seeing that she could not bring back half of her meadow again, she accepted their invitation and tailed behind as she followed them into a dense forest path.

As she followed them silently, she noticed the forest path seemed to be well-maintained, she notes that they regularly brush off the fallen leaves from time to time as well as trim the bushes in the path’s edges to provide a clear way for carriages.

After several minutes later, Fléu had finally arrived to their home. Their house was made of wood and cobble with a roof made of clay tiles and a little chimney to top it all off. This was indeed what Fléu imagined when she thought of a farmer’s houses.

“Please, do come in.” Fatima opened the wooden door wide for Fléu as she gestured her to enter. She stepped in and the two followed suit.

“Do make yourself at home, I’ll prepare some herbs for the tea.” Fatima said before retreating into their home’s kitchen.

“Pardon me, Madame, but I believed we had not made proper introductions.” Fatima’s brother spoke up from behind her. “I am Retinento.”

“Oh yes,” Fléu had almost forgotten to ask this man’s name after their encounter. “Call me Fléu, a pleasure to meet you.”

Retinento bowed. “Likewis-.”

“Bark!”

Retinento and Fléu jumped at the thunderous barks.

“Those darn wolves.” He scorned as he walked to open the door again. “If you’ll excuse me, Madame Fléu, I must check if our chickens from the back haven’t been pried open yet.”

Fléu watched as Retinento made his way outside to do his rounds.

“Must be hard living in the edge of the forest.” Fléu thought to herself. Not after a minute, Fatima appears again holding a tray with a wooden teapot and three tea cups placed neatly next to each other.

“Hmm?” Fatima looks around. “Did my brother went off somewhere again?”

“He said he was going to check the chickens in the back”

Fatima nodded as she placed the tea set on a table. “Wolves are getting quite active in this parts for some reason, but they never really dare to step near our house, so he’ll be back in a jiffy.”

She poured a cup of tea unto each cup and offered out one to Fléu.

“Here, I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Thanks.” Fléu grabbed hold of the cup. She could smell the scent of the fresh ingredients used even through her mask. She lifts her mask to drink. “Lavender and a hint of rosemary” Fléu noted as she drank from the cup, it was intoxicating to say the least.

“How is it?” Fatima asked, a nervous smile creeping around her face.

“Terifically refreshing!” Fléu replied as she drinks from the cup, making sure to tilt it at an angle where not a single drop would remain in it.

Fatima sighs in relief. “Thank you, we don’t often get guests around these parts, so this is the best we can offer.”

The door then swung open, revealing Retinento with his clothes somewhat muddied.

“By the grace of God, there’s more wolves than ever before!” He complained. “Lucky for us that they shy away from stepping out of the bushes. Just sling a few rocks at them and they scatter as fast as they appeared.”

“Oh dear, I do hope they do stay in there, else the daises would get trampled by their paws.” Said Fléu.

Fatima chuckles. “That would be a shame indeed.”

“Ah!” Retinento looks outside their house’s window. The sun has begun making its way to hide behind the hills once more. “I am sorry to interrupt, Madame, but it seems it will be dark soon.”

Fléu looks through the window as well. “It would seem so.” She stands up, brushing her skirt. “Well, I better get going then.”

“Leaving so soon?” Fatima interjects. “Can’t she stay here for a while, brother? I can prepare a haybale to rest on for tonight.”

“Oh no need, I have disturbed you long enough.” Said Fléu “But rest assured, I will be returning for another cup of your tea!”

They bid her farewell, Fléu gleefully skips back to her cottage hidden within the wheat fields. The trip back was uneventful, though there were some howling in the distance, it was not close enough to set her alarmed.

She finally arrives home. The familiar room of her cottage untouched and unmoved. The chair that she had sat on when she was waiting for the passing of winter was still there as she had left it, no cob webs nor any sign of deterioration whatsoever. “Oh!”Fléu looks around the room. “There should be a basket of daisies lying around here somewhere!”. She scours around. “A bunch of glass bottles on the shelf… a dozen books with torn pages inside a cabinet… A bundle of candles on the bed… AHA!”. Her hand reaches under her bed, the familiar texture of a whicker basket greets it. Pulling back, she is happy to find that her daises are still lush in their color and texture, as if she had just plucked it yesterday. “This would be a lovely gift for those two! We are technically neighbors since we share this wheat field that was once my meadow after all.” She thought to herself. In her enthusiasm, she spent the night arranging and rearranging the daises, all night, trying to get that perfect bouquet pattern, until her eyes could no longer keep up once again with her wild spirit.

She woke up, slump across her table, a basket of daisies that were beautifully assorted in a basket, laid in front of her. “Oh yes! The gift!” She jumped out of her sit quickly and grabbed the basket. Exiting her cottage in joyful anticipation. “Oh sweet tea! How I yearn for you again!”

In her haste, she failed to notice that the wheat fields that had surrounded the area had withered away, patches of weeds began to sprang more and more the deeper she went.

The forest path that she had walked alongside Fatima and Retinento the other day had seemingly been consumed by bushes and fallen leaves. Fléu would slow down her jog into a walk by then. “Huh” Fléu looks around, the air was seemingly different than when was here yesterday, and a single question ran through her mind: “Were the trees always this tall before?”

It would not take long for her to reach the sibling’s humble abode.

“Fatima? Retinento?” Fléu shouted as she approaches their house. The clay roof that once covered their house laid in ruin, cracked and falling apart, as the cobbled walls did as well. The chimney had fallen entirely to the side, and their door was ajar, with scratches adorning it. Only the faint glimmer of a cup remained at the front of the shambled doorsteps, with the fragrant hint of lavender and rosemary. Fléu stood there motionless as a gust of wind blew the daisies in her basket. Time had flown past like a gust of wind yet again.

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the-fiction-witch · 6 months

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27th Little Rabbit

Media Accused

Character jake Murry

Couple jake X Reader

Rating Scary

I was fearful but I knew it was merely my mind playing tricks on me in the dark fog, I was more than certain the boys were just playing a trick on me.

Even if I couldn't help my mind running on a night like this.

A right of passage they said, everyone had to do it. To talk about abandoned gardens on a foggy night, I prayed it was a wind-up but I held my knife's blade in my pocket just in case.

I'm sure once this place was beautiful with stone bridges, flower trellis, stone statues, and benches, I'm sure once it would have been a relaxing peaceful place but now the river dry and the flowers dead it merely made the hair on my neck stand on end. Spooked to my very soul with every owl hoot or twig snap. I tried just to be brave as I didn't want to seem like a wimp to everyone else I'd never hear the end of it if I did,

I stopped short as I heard a sound enough to make the strongest gym bro wet himself, a soft gentle singing.

You'd think such a song with such a sweet voice would be comforting, but here it echoed in the empty garden with a strange unearthly sound.

I got faster trying to just get out of here before I lost it, but I saw across the way a figure in white moving between the long dead trees and overgrown ivy.

"Hell no" I gulped trying to bolt back the way I came back over the stone bridge but as I reached the apex of the bridge - there stood a woman.

In a long white dress dragging on the floor with ivy, thorns and moss stuck in the dress train, the white dress seemed almost to glow her hair long with dead withered flowers woven in, a bouquet of long dead and dry flowers in her lace gloved hands. "Fuck" I gasped I rubbed my eyes trying to clear them and my stupid head but she only slowly turned to me strangely her face was beautiful like a perfect bride to be strange given how old everything on her seemed to be

"Hummm... Hello little rabbit" she chuckled

"uhhh hello" I nodded trying to remain composed

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here?"

"Ohhh uhh just uhhhh for a walk" I lied, not sure why that came out my mouth but my brain and mouth don't have a lot of communication right now

"I see, don't you know that it's very dangerous to be out this late at night" she says

"Yeah... uhhh what are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting,"

"Waiting, for what?"

"My wedding" she says turning her attention off the bridge again

"Your, your wedding?" I asked Okay either I'm losing it or she's crazy "This garden hasn't been used in years. the house attached was demolished years ago, before even my nan was born. This hasn't been open for years"

"I know"

"Then why are you still waiting?"

"he promised he'd be only a moment"

"You've waited here all this time?"

"Of course," she says turning her face back to me but this time

Her face was deathly pale, her skin rotting off her bones, and her eyes disappeared completely.

"Aaahhhhh!" I screamed falling backwards onto the stone of the bridge

"You should be careful, before this night is done you could end up in trouble unholy things walk these paths this late at night" She smirked

"Unholy things like you?"

"I'd hardly call me unholy, I am the least of your concerns here little rabbit." she says turning away her face returning to the same beautiful and normal way it was when I first saw her

"What are you?"

"The remanence of a promise forgotten. Left to rot and die like this very garden" she explained "Now you best be getting home little rabbit" she chuckled "That is your Que. to run" she giggled

I didn't wait to hear more I got up and bolted as fast as I could trying to get the hell out of there when I spotted the gate I felt a weight lift but before I could reach it I tripped and saw a steam of thorns had wrapped themselves around my leg "ahhhhhh!" I screamed as they tightened and tugged me away from the gate I dug my nails into the dirt but still, that did nothing as it slowly dragged me further away from the gates.

"I love a good chase" Her voice smirked I looked up and saw her on the bridge above me rotten and broken as the veins pulled me down into what once held the water for the garden down deep into the dark muddy hole, I screamed and cried begging anyone who could hear me for help but none came as they dragged me down further and further until the last sight I saw was her stood over me with a wicked smile before darkness as the dirt and mud rushed over my face "Nighty night little rabbit, you'll join us soon enough"

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #tbs smut #thomas sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #jake imagines #jake smut #jake imagine #jake murray #accused

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edenandlibrary · 1 year

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— elindra. eng. empire au.

And they said flowers were the result of a pot mix of palpitating hearts, upon the warmth from the fireplace. All these hopefulness, all these despairness, and the rest remains unnamed because Sandra is simply naïve of what the world shall march for. What Sandra understand is, these flowers would be the garden to her heart; whether it will wither or bloom everlasting is decided by her own—screw that bullshit.

And now, despite once again being devoid of such companionship act, Sandra found her shelter and tranquility behind these trees—much, much calming in these days than some time in the past. In such serenity, she recalls bitter memories like an old friend who serves tea and laughs; when the woman was took by several royal guards as the official empress by the near empire, all that she carried inside her goods were anything functional and a heavy heart. How could the young emperor notice such an unassuming girl as her, to be took as the bride of the said established empire?

It leaves adonis to her tongue, much as an irony that flower language were best to learn if one's dwell in agony.

Nevermind that, she blinks to gather focus within her surroundings. These trees need much of a treatment to her eyes; plenty leaves falling to brown and yellow, even some bushes are in need to tend and care.

"I need to shift my garment into the likes of gardener, please."

And as seconds glides into void, so does her act to carefully woven the tangled twigs and weeds covered the ground around. Some servants and those who's related as the mistresses in this walls are helping her, the others waiting quite afar as they let themselves bathe in morning's sunrays.

But again, sunrays will vanished between clouds above. Just like an uninvited, yet deemed utmost importance guest as Sandra and everyone in the vast garden is dipped into deep curtsy.

"Have you taken your pastime well, my Empress?"

His voice brims with honey and the depth of ocean hids its wonder. Sweet, too much sweetness seeps beneath herself and she feels sick. Sick of the unusual treatment between his words and acts, sick of the kindness that he gives with such generosity for a mere puppet to the government field, and anything behind these high walls and magnificent palace.

"I have, Your Imperial Highness. A good pastime is important of one's mind and soul. I hope for your longetivity from some pastime that you own."

As much as she keeps herself lower, the steps and certain presence getting near ... is tighten her consciousness, putting her on the edge. To beg, gasp for air is a necessity, but dare she not to face him this instant.

"Still plenty leaves upon this ground?"

"We were just starting, Your Majesty."

And such elongated silence as Sandra take a slight peek——to find her heart sunken low.

Where did he command her servants gone?

"Oh, sorry, Empress. You may raise yourself."

To his command shall she arise, but her lips moves on its own to ensure such trivial, yet crucial moment that vanished before her eyes by a mere seconds ago.

"Your Majesty," said her, "may I know the reason why you dispose my servants?"

She could've swore of the Emperor's heterchromatic eyes were darken, as he gives the impression of her as something akin to a dirt, only to revert into his usual demeanour behind the smile; proper, tactful.

"Mm, I've considered some of your advices in the court, some time ago." He begins; tips of his fingers traversed the bushes, his touch granted yellow, brown, and death, and many leaves wither upon the ground. "Apparently, education is needed in all field. Like you've said, I will give them proper guidance."

Guidance, he said.

Such solid and cheery tone of his has managed to dig another hole inside her void heart. How much does he aware of herself more than the woman ... terrifies her. She takes a shaky, deep breath, covered behind her composure.

"Are all of them under the guardians of your best men, Your Majesty?"

He remains put, a nod to compliment. "Of course. To maintain manpower should be done even in the smallest scale. Some of your servants are also took care of me well; as you become my Empress and they are concubines, building such huge central for this empire as well."

She has yet to convince, hence, a few more words from him must be confirmed well. "May I know of the details with this guidance? This sudden gesture of you makes me possess little scenario of what my men will facing."

"One of my men will delivered it to your chambers, so you no need to worry."

Said he, but there are more to meet than eyes and lips, and if she unveils it bit by bit in here, it will also cost of her skin and the remaining insides. He was being thorough and careful, if all, to even converse in this small moment.

She sighs once more, ever subtle, even shaky. "I have to admit, such change to this matter is rather hard to me. I will try my best to readjust."

And he beams.

"No need for the abundance worried. My actions were also the response of the irregular occurence, regarding the tragedies of my concubines and their relatives." His features helps to paint how bright he becomes, and such compose manner is useless to done so. He leans closer, quickly replies. "Although, I do have a favor, my Empress."

This isn't good——for whichever conclusion comes, every thing ends with him as the final entity that resolutes the tragedies itself. She boldly remarks herself; to make the investigation of her own within the anomalies itself.

She remains still, despite her taking aback inside. "And what is it, if I may know?"

"Come to my chamber for a night."

And she froze, tingling sensastion strikes her like a sudden storm in the middle of evening.

"C, Chamber, Your Majesty?" Flustered her face might be, such request raised another concern. "Y, Your Majesty, my apologies for being extremely coming inappropiate, but ... aren't I confirmed to be infertile? The reason I approach every concubines subjects and their children, is to secure their legitimacy as a proper noble in here. I could also select them as the crown prince, if it's likely."

However, his reactions that seems steady brings another perturbed, churned her stomach until it bloated.

"Aren't you ... bolder, my Empress." He states, fingers tucks some falling strands to her ear. "We even didn't do consummate since our ceremony, due to the news of your infertility. Do you questioned my simple wish?"

"N, no! Not at all!" She sinks into a deep bow, trembled by such statement. "My actions, all this were for the best of this empire! I never want to make it shift against it, Your Imperial Highness!"

Then, to her surprise——he plants some kiss upon her head and a long, long embrace with a sigh in perfect harmony. There is desperate between his whispers, "We even rarely done such intimacy like this," tiredness to seep in. "Your Majesty."

She steadily, stiffly replies at the beginning; only to seal it with another hug as welcoming as possible. She murmurs, "I'm sorry, for being bad at all of this."

He chuckles. "Me too. I'll be waiting." As he never wants to let go, he swiftly carries her between his two arms, going for bridal style. "But, I'll be taking you like this from now on, when they were all away." Ignoring her pleas and embarrasment, he laughs as if there will be no tomorrow to savour this moment of sweetness.

#de mist paper

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animatedrapture · 3 years

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RINTOBER: [ Achilles' Heel ]

word count: 2,222

suna rintarō x reader

tags: ambiguous end, implied major character death, angst, implied sexual intercourse, toxic relationship, detailed pain(?)

song: achilles come down - gang of youths

a/n: HALLOWEEN SPECIAL because... death...?

a HUGE thank you, once again, to my wonderful wife, love of my life, bby @toffees-main 🥺 for proofreading the final piece and preventing me from sounding like a dumbass like, twice. also, thank you to @newfriendjen and @kaitycole for beta-reading the initial draft!

"Rin, Rintarō, I love you!" You shouted from the bleachers; a proud smile decorating your features as you cheered for him right after he'd hit the ball to the other side of the net, securing EJP Raijin another point—so close to winning.

His gaze and yours were two opposites of a pole with a pull unparalleled—a pull science can only wish to decipher. He finds you as he rotates through the set up and there's a beam in his eyes, making him break out into a grin you just know he couldn't find it in himself to reserve for later.

That day, that match—Suna Rintarō was named the MVP of the game. He owed it all to you and the swell of his heart with each cheer he heard from you; your voice distinct as if it were the only one that mattered in that whole gymnasium. Perhaps, at least that time, you truly were all that mattered to him.

But not anymore.

The first—the first was the lack of replies, the dryer replies. I love you's met with Love you's and very little effort to hide the lack of sincerity beneath. It began through texts until it was the quick, snipped tone laced with the parsimonious manner he answered you. The act of it was much like an attempt to deprive you of water until you're but withering rose in his grasp that he would rather replace than try to plant again and save.

Just how long were you willing to go without the water you needed to stay alive?

"Rin, love, I'll prepare dinner for us tonight, come home early, okay? I'm cooking your favorite!"

"I'll try," was his reply as you watched each of his hasty movements through your shared bedroom.

"I prepared you a bento, too. It's on the kitchen counter," you continued as he attempted to ignore the way you looked at him similar to the way you look when you're lost and searching for something. He hums in response, and just as he was about to reach for the door, you call out to him, "Rin, where's my goodbye kiss?" in the usual tone you would pull back then when he would forget and pepper you with kisses in retaliation, offering an apology before heading out.

He looks back at you with exasperation, "I'm late, Y/N." He doesn't wait for you to answer before he has the door shut close.

That's how you know he also forgot the food you prepared on the kitchen counter.

Foolishly, the answer to the question was that you were willing to wait until your next life for his love to drown you into bliss again. It's that answer that's disrespectful to the mystery of reincarnation—but you're everything Suna Rintarō wanted you to be; that is, if it was a fool he wanted you to be, you would play the part better than any award winning actor to have ever lived could. Even if it was a miscreant he wanted you to be, some sort of heretic to the laws of the world and the conditions of love. You'd be everything he asked of you. After all, who were you if not his other half?

Who were you if not water to shape into whatever container he put you in, right?

The second—the second was the lies that slipped past such sinful crimson lips. Oh, by the heavens, as if the lack of fondness in the timbre of his voice as he spoke to you wasn't enough to put cracks to the cemented foundation of you and him. Cruel, it's so cruel—you wonder if you're lacking somewhere, have you changed? Are you no longer diamond in the sea of glitter—? Worth not of his time nor the beating of the caged heart you thought you've acquired?

Now when he speaks, even the very sound of his voice reverberates like a sharp spear piercing through your chest without mercy—as if you're Spartan in the Battle of Thermopylae. The lies that come along with them about how training ended late again, or that he's travelling for a match again—Huh? No, you don't have to come, Y/N. I need to focus.

Did he have to lie about who he's with, what he's been doing? It's laughable. As if you wouldn't kiss away the taste of anything that lingered in his lips, if it was blood, alcohol or the lips of another girl. Rintarō, did he not know you enough to know you would surrender to his will no matter what mud followed his footsteps?

Ah, but, what would admitting such things do to his pride? Maybe it's that—or maybe he liked the way the lies were like lemon and salt to a fresh wound. You think, you never thought you could be so masochistic.

Third—the third is the sharpness of his gaze. It's the same gaze, same pair of eyes you've loved for such a long time and you fail not to love to this very moment. You're softer than clouds but now most hollow in comparison to the unacquirable stars among the cosmos—you think they're there but they're just a burst of light, something that has probably died lightyears ago.

It's like chokehold, the fourth—the fourth is like chokehold and he, the assassin. Ruthless—he's ruthless when he looks at you as you're not more than a tedious chore to him and the ring on your finger held no promise of relentless love greater than what a deity could offer.

Foolish—you're foolish. Delusion is a coping mechanism to the ones whose realities have been robbed in front of them—delusion is what you're supposed to call it when you fill your head with all the excuses and all the things you tell yourself have to change. You used to be a masterpiece. A masterpiece to him; as though you're Holy Grail found in a gallery of things that could never begin to hope they would ever amount to you.

Delusion is ignoring the liquor in his lips, the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with alcohol and cigarette smoke. You're confused and your reality that seems to have been distorting more often than usual. You question the strings that premeditate fate when it's you feeling the drunkenness and hangover the next day when it should be Suna and the tabloids of "Suna Rintarō spotted in yet another bar." You wonder if each sunset and sunrise you watched with Suna was a mere fever dream when it's you who vomits on the toilet. You, who sobs on the bathroom floor.

"Sfumato," your friend tells you, "The gentle blurring of edges to make rendered objects appear as one with their environment." The edges blur when you call that delusion as love—you only have to wait long enough before both are truly one and the same. The pain disguised as martyr sacrifice to the greatest allegory of love to exist. This is what you're told. They say, "Y/N, you've confused love with delusion," and yet you don't listen.

You don't listen most of all when you're back underneath him but you feel like you're being bloodied all over, stained like wine to a white dress. Yet you allow yourself to indulge in the kisses he's abated you of, you revel in each time you ask him to tell you he loves you and he finally does as he luxuriates you of your desires and of your whines for love—nevermind that he was doing it for himself. After all, it is as the word suggests, a luxury.

Suna Rintarō had become a luxury you couldn't afford, therefore, he did not have any business of giving himself to you. Not unless he wanted to.

Is there such thing as a free reign over the heart of someone? Hand it over as they will but how long would they truly allow you to borrow it—? Borrow it because one never truly surrenders such a vital thing to human functioning. Yes, you are and you have been delusional to believe so.

"You own the entirety of my heart, Y/N," you're unsure whenever it echoes in your head. He brings you enough torture, why must your own brain create such clamor in your head. Was such pain necessary? Is pain to love much like Adam's rib to Eve?

"It's a promise ring, bunny," he said as he tucked your hair behind your ears—his gaze is intense, almost like you would disappear from his sight if he looked at anywhere or anything but you.

You stared at the ring that shone under the light of the restaurant, your vision blurring at the tears welling from your eyes and you try your best to choke in the sob that involuntarily escapes you.

"Hey, Y/N, what are you cryin' for?" He questioned with a chuckle, looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes while his thumbs reached out to wipe away each tear that betrayed you—falling down your cheeks as he cupped your face.

"I-it's nothing, I—I'm just happy, love," you answer him through your tears.

There's a smile playing across his lips, he tells you, "'m just making a promise that I'll marry you one day, bunny, is all."

You nodded eagerly with a wide smile even as the tears that left you continued to fall, "I'm making a promise to say yes, Rin. No matter what," you answered him through your sobs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Guess I should start practicing to get on one knee then, yeah?" He laughed as he pulled you closer, his arms around you, you giggled along with him—it felt like you were molded together to form one perfect piece, like the act of staying there for all of eternity, in each other's arms, would turn you into one. Entangled together in all the right ways—as if Rapture has befallen the Earth and that was your final state as did the universe.

The fifth—the fifth is the screaming, the fights. Who would have thought you would break like a mere twig stepped on in the darkest forest on this Earth? It was under his shoe did you break from; each word that left his mouth was scathing—they didn't feel like a stab or pins and needles to the human heart, they felt like burns of acid that slowly ate at your decaying soul, breaking heart, dwindling sanity.

"I don't get it, Rin! Why do you treat me like this?!" You screamed through your tears, your chest heaving as your lungs tried its best to support you, even when it's already been punctured by the shattered pieces of your heart that continued to beat in separate shards, digging further into your lungs, damaging your ribcage, piercing your throat.

"Please, God, just tell me what to do—Rintarō, tell me what I need to do to turn us back to the way we were, please," you begged, falling to your knees and you let the shattered items on the floor puncture your skin. You felt numb yet your whole body was buzzing. The pain from the pieces of glass from under you doesn't register in your brain because all you can feel is the pain that was spreading from your chest and out into your whole body.

Under his mercy had he turned you inside out and greedily taken every part of you—everything you surrendered on your own volition until you were nothing, not even a shell of yourself but more like a ghost floating through the air. It looked like a battlefield—and perhaps it was. Love was never something you come out alive from. Love was greedy, selfish, treacherous. Love is like an assailant you allowed to enter in the safety of your own home.

"Don't you get it? Y/N, I don't love you anymore!"

No. You think, no. No, it repeats in your head, over and over. Denial. You were in denial, at this conjecture, you were aware of even this.

"I stopped loving you long ago, Y/N. You were dumb enough to stay." Has he always been this truculent towards you? You wonder but you can't recall anything else but the echoing of his words. Words he used like a champion of the battlefield, liberating away the life of his enemies.

No. Don't say that. You don't mean it. No.

Suna thought you would be the arrow to his heel—the one to bring him to his knees in the most torturous of ways. In reality, maybe you were more his heel than the arrow. He was both Achilles and his actions, the arrow that brought him to his own demise.

Sixth—the sixth was sickening grief. You're so unfair. You're so selfish. How could you run away from him, only to scream his name and the tormenting shout of "I love you" that haunted him awake or in his slumber. How could you be so cruel? To let him fall to his knees in front you the way you made him to. Ruthless—you're so ruthless. The pain was the excruciating kind, crashing towards him like ocean waves bringing him farther from the shore and near to wherever you were now. How could you leave him like you did?

After all, what was he if there wasn't you?

📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

#RINTOBER #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna #rintarou suna #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #;cloud #haikyuu angst #suna angst #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintarou x reader

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godkilller · 3 years

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out of character. Some years before running across Rangiku, Gin spent some time learning how to grow food and garden, shadowing an elderly couple in the nicer area of the Sixty-fourth District, during which time he discovered one of his favorite snacks. The couple was nice enough, however fairly hands-off with Gin -- and more or less merely kept him around due to him being helpful, and did struggle with and gain criticism for ‘feeding the wild animals’ from other villagers, as food was scarce for those who needed it and Gin wasn’t particularly well-mannered. He was feral, spoke little, and had an unsettling energy.

The elderly man wanted nothing to do with him, personally, but also knew Gin was another set of hands to help tend to their various chores. The elderly woman argued the boy was no good to them sick, thus allowing him to sleep in their shed outside. Gin could go days without uttering a word.

Unbeknownst to Gin, his reiatsu was oppressive and vast, feeding into the general dislike he gained from the other villagers and causing the elderly couple to need more and more help from him as they slowly withered. Disappearances were creating unease, as no one knew why people were vanishing into piles of dust and leftover robes, fear was rampant, and the only reasoning they could gather was that Gin’s ‘cursed aura’ was tainting them all. The Visored and Hogyoku experimentations were primarily established in the Sixty-fourth, and the toll was harrowing. Gin was blamed and resented as a ‘bad omen’ for the town, as his appearance coincided in their minds with the beginning of their loss and misery. The elderly woman advised him to ‘smile more’ as it made him not bad luck.

The couple died during a stormy night, in their sleep. When Gin awoke in the morning and discovered them, he attempted to drag their bodies outside to bury them properly -- and was caught by a neighbor, accused of murdering them, and was run out of the village fairly quickly. He ran towards the outskirts, through the woods and rocks and streams, a decent trek away from any nearby civilization. Gin took the next few days and nights curled up beneath a tree, collecting twigs and branches, making a little makeshift cover for the rains -- slowly, over the following months, he began chipping away at building himself a larger shack to call home.

#[ headcanon ] fresh snowfall; fading footprints mark his path #[ verse: rukongai ] as the rain falls; on that stone mat you wait for me #uwu i've had these notes for too long and they're probably incoherent by now but ayoo.

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 3 years

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Sardines, or Professor Vargas is an Asshole

Another fic from someone who’s only half-read everything. Told in second person, starring a female Yuu.

Content warnings for coarse language, kidnapping, sexual harassment along the lines of Vargas being similar to Gaston, and being deeply, direly self indulgent.

As always, please let me know if you enjoyed it, I live and breathe for positive feedback.

You do not like Professor Vargas, and the feeling is mutual.

It wasn't like the almost amiable vitriol between you and Schonheit, which, while having its ups and downs, was usually at a level of shooting a few insults at each other in between whatever dorm prefect business had you talking to each other, and parting ways with a hair flip on his part and a rude hand guesture on yours. And hell, the other teachers seemed almost fond of you. Trein appreciated you passion for history, even if annoyed at your preference for layman-oriented literature, and would let you sound off about whatever strange bit of lore you'd recently found out, and even once down and listened very patiently as you tried to explain who Emperor Norton was before he said you needed to leave so he could mark papers. Crewel and you had reached an uneasy truce where he did not call you a puppy, and you did not start going "what happens when these go together" in potions class every time he called you that in protest. (You may be a bitch, but he certainly isn't allowed to imply it, even in the most roundabout of ways.)

But Vargas. Vargas hates your soft belly, your unwillingness to push yourself to the point of exhaustion, and most of all, he really, really hates that you're a girl that won't throw herself at his feet. You were trundling along at a swift walking pace on a broom, a mere few feet off the ground, when he stopped yelling at your classmates to pick on you instead.

"Too weak to do better than that?"

"I'm not magic. That I can do this at all is impressive." You're pointedly looking ahead, not looking at him jogging up beside you.

"You can go higher!"

"Professor," you say with barely contained irritation, "I am a beginner, and would much rather have the basics down before I attempt to turn myself into a fine paté from a hundred feet up."

He snorted. "Ashengrotto goes high; you can too."

"Azul's damn near in tears by the time he comes down because he didn't even have legs before a few years ago. He's not a good example."

Vargas, being a wretched asshole who should not be allowed to teach, instead tipped the end of your broom up. Only the broom shot into the air, you merely went ass-over-teakettle onto the grass, and stayed there because if you got up you would attempt to bite his nose clean off.

"Such poor balance! But I can fix that with some private lessons!" Oh, Christ. "You come by here after dark, I know all about teaching a girl how to ride -”

At that, you kicked him in the shin, and while he started back in pain, you shot up and started walking off the field, vibrating with the strength of your disgust.

"You can't hit a teacher! You'll regret this you stupid-" And you've picked up to a jog, because fuck if you were going to listen to that piece of shit try and pick up one of his own fucking students, what the actual fuck.

~*~*~*~

You relayed this whole mess across the supper table, afterwards, and your host was just as grossed out as you were.

"Keep an eye out next class," Azul said to you. "He holds a grudge."

"First hand knowledge?”

His silence was telling.

"You think I could get an exemption? Or like, permission to do a treadmill when everyone's out on a broom?"

"Who do you think you have to ask about all fitness-related things?" Azul had a faraway look that recalled war films. "It's not going to work.”

"What if I start skipping class?"

He gave you a look that could wither an evergreen. "Don't you dare, or he'll start picking on me again."

You shrugged. "Aight. I got three days to figure out what to do, then. You got any ideas?”

He folded his hands and rested his head upon them. "What would you pay?"

"No."

"Come on."

"What do I even have that you want?"

"I can think of a few things. The wave in your hair, or the gleam off your teeth."

"Because you need more curl to your hair."

"Someone might want to contract me for them."

"No. I got three days, Azul, we don't have to resort to your contracts.”

As it turned out, you did not have three days.

~*~*~*~

The next day's gym class was a motley bunch. Idia couldn't miss any more gym days this month, Lilia was doing his stretches, Floyd was... being Floyd, resulting in everyone who wasn't Rook giving him a wide berth, and Leona appeared to be skipping class and was therefore not present for the upcoming bullshit.

"Sorry I'm late!" Cater jogged in, cheery as sunshine though the clouds, and Idia rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't strain. "Laps today?"

"Vargas said we're doing Capture the Flag. Dunno how the teams'll go." Lilia was doing something complicated with his hands as he stretched his arms. "Kingscholar's absent, so they'll be uneven. And," he thumbed over at Rook, who was looking into the forest with the coiled intensity of a greyhound waiting for the rabbit to spring, "he's got an advantage, he knows the woods best."

"Yeah, but I've got unlimited data and a GPS." Cater patted his chest with a smile, the outline if his phone visibly through a pocket.

"Can't count on that for everything."

"Alright students!" yelled Vargas, strolling out of the woods with a bruise purpling one cheek. "Capture the Flag today. Use your brooms to navigate the forest, grab the flag, whoever brings it back gets the flag as a prize."

"It's in the forest, hanging from a pole in a clearing, you cannot miss it! All in white, too..." The professor brought up a little screen, showing off a live feed of his flag.

The flag, of course, was you, trussed up with rope and you legs hanging freely, still in last night's sleep shirt. Your voice came out, tinny from the speakers: "I did not consent to this, asshole."

The students were torn between looking at Vargas in shock, looking at the phone in shock, and muttering between themselves.

"Don't forget to have all the fun you want with the flag before you bring it back to me! When else will you get the chance?"

This just had everyone looking at each other with shifty-eyed suspicion.

"Every man for himself! Go get your prize!"

~*~*~*~

Vargas couldn't rig worth a damn. You're twenty feet in the air with just one rope suspending you, tied at the base with a simple knot. Everything hurt from chafing, you were cold, and you couldn't help but worry over what the hell was going to happen, depending on who found you. Vil still hadn't forgiven you for projecting a gorefest of a film across the walls of Pomefiore, so he might leave you to rot or use the situation to put a particularly vicious curse on you. Idia would probably drop dead of exhaustion after reaching you, leaving you both stuck. Floyd, well. As much as you enjoyed his company, it was like hand feeding a pet tiger; eventually he'll decide your hands tastes better, it's just a matter of when. You're running the numbers on most likely scenarios based on who shows up, when some twigs snap by the meadow's edge and you look towards a small "Hi."

Little ears! Little hands! Little all over, and looking up at you with curiousity as his tail swished. Chen'ya? No, no, other Ch- name. "Cheka! Hi, sweetie, honey, baby, can you get me down?" You'd already been here an hour and your hands were nothing but tingles.

"... Okay! Why're you up there?"

"Bad man," you say as he starts to tug at the rope. "You got it?"

He shook his head. "It's hard."

"Can you go get help, honey? Bring them back to get me down?"

He nodded. This was a big boy job, he could do it. "I'll get Uncle Leona."

Please don't, you thought to yourself, but instead said "Okay, please be quick, Cheka."

He started off towards the school, and you could have sworn he vanished before he actually hit the treeline.

~*~*~*~

He was only gone for a few minutes before you realized that you were starting to move. Turns out Cheka, despite being so small, had pulled enough at the rope before he left that the knot was unraveling.

"Oh shi-" is as far as you got before you're in freefall, and you yelped as you hit the ground feet first, wheezing. Fuck. You can barely move to survey the damage, because a certain asshole had put your hands behind your back, and every move made your ankles wail in pain. The only saving grace was that the ground was soft.

At least someone had landed by you, looking you up and down.

"... Hi, Yuu."

"... Hi, Lil."

Lilia pointed up. "You're supposed to be up there."

"Vargas was too busy trying to get upskirts to secure a fucking knot, apparently." You wince as he worked at the ropes. "My feet?"

"On the right way." You gritted your teeth and hissed as he prodded at them. "Both badly sprained, left worse than right. You're not walking out of here."

"Figured." You sat up and held your arms out. "Come on, old man, you're stronger than you look."

He was, but was too small to leverage you correctly.

"Can't you fly?"

"Yes," He said as he tried to balance you on the broom.

"Then carry me.”

"You want me to drop you?"

"Nope."

"Do we just wait for the others?"

As if on cue, you heard distant yelling and what was maybe an explosion.

"Yeah." Lil brightened, and snapped his fingers. "I saw a place, hold on."

Said place was either a nice treehouse or an okay deer blind, wide enough in the floor that you could lay flat out as he surveyed the damage. "This should be a good place."

"What the hell is going on out there?”

"Everyone's looking for you." Lil's settled crosslegged, with an amused smile. "Vargas said you're the prize, so everyone's trying to get here first. Isn't it good I found you? Who knows what they're planning."

You set your arm over your eyes and sighed. "Brave words from someone who's broken into my room more than once."

He shrugged. "You need looking after."

"De-organizing my things isn't looking after, you damned goblin."

He bristled. "I'm not a goblin."

"What is a goblin, Lilia."

"Small little fae who like to cause trouble."

"Exactly."

You couldn't see it, but you could feel the eye-roll.

~*~*~*~

It was five minutes at the most after that before Rook climbed in the door, looking so fresh-faced and joyful to see you it made you want to swat him. "Bonjour, my Trickster! You're living up to your name, hidden away!"

"Salut, Rook." You squinted at him. "You have first aid anything?"

"Hm," He said, prodding at your calf. "I have water, but these need wrapped."

"Give." Lilia took a sip of water before passing it to you. "The uniform denim won't tear easily-”

"Oh, we use this."

"Oh no you do not," You said as you tugged the hem of your sleep shirt from his hand. "No one here gets to see my underwear."

"I don't care about your panties, I care about this," he said as he brushed an ankle, making you jerk back. "It'll get worse if they aren't wrapped. There is fabric to spare.”

You huffed before you told him not to mention it to Vil, and between him and Lilia, you had two wrapped ankles and a dangerously short hemline. At least you'd actually put underwear on before Vargas decided to kidnap you, otherwise this would be a whole other level of distressing.

~*~*~*~

"You have a phone?"

Lilia pulled his from a hidden pocket. "You want to play Sweetie Scrunch?"

"No," You say as you take it from him and start flipping through his contacts. "I'm calling help."

It took him a whole three seconds before he realized who help was. "... Nope, nope, you're not getting Malleus involved, he will eat Vargas alive, we are not causing an international incident."

"Would you rather he find out after? And he knows how to heal." You'd already texted him a brief explanation one handed, the other keeping Lilia away.

"She is not wrong, monsieur... And it would be a delight to see him raise hell."

"See?" You gave Lilia a smile that would be very sweet if it wasn't full of the devil. "C'est bon."

~*~*~*~

Mal hurtled through the window so fast it was a miracle he didn't go clean through the far wall, before he was on top of you, fussing over his precious Child of Man.

"Mal, I am fine, please fix my -"

"Dreadful, simply dreadful." He was already working a prickly green light around your bruises. "And he did that, too?" he growled as he guestured to your ragged hemline."

"No, we did that to wrap my ankles. As much as I'd love to see it, we do not need to turn Vargas into - Mal. Mal. Put your clothing back-" He'd already managed to wrap you up in his green-trimmed uniform coat. "You don't have to do that."

"Yes I do." He already had you cradled in his lap, both arms around you in a vice grip. "You won't heal immediately, I must keep you safe until then.”

Lilia raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. You were about to ask, before a dreadful wheezing started up from outside, and familiar pale hands had the bottom of the doorframe in a vice grip. "Help."

"Shit, Idia! Get him in here before he falls!"

~*~*~*~

Idia looked downright grey in your arms as you tried to get him to drink some water. For someone who had the physical fortitude of an overboiled noodle, he'd pushed himself to his limits looking for you, and then some.

"You're okay? Full health?" Idia sounded horribly raspy, and you fussed over his scrapes as you picked half-charred twigs from his hair. He was too tired to protest you holding onto him in much the same manner Malleus was holding onto you.

"Bout three-quarters. Fifty before Mal got here." Idia's eyes flicked to just behind your left ear before he shrank back.

You turned your head around, and Mal gave you his sweetest you're-my-best-friend smile. You looked back at Idia, who was attempting to shrink into something microscopic, and then back at Mal.

"Play nice. He's my friend too."

Mal turned his face as innocent as he could muster. "Whatever do you mean, my friend?"

"You know what I mean."

"I do not." He wasn't looking at your face anymore.

"Yes you do. And he's you're friend too-"

Idia raised one hand tentatively. "We only play Dragon-Kun with each other."

You guestured down at Idia, still looking at Mal, looking anywhere but you. "You love your Dragon-kun. And maybe," you say as you nudge Malleus's cheek, "If you made more friends than me, you wouldn't have to be jealous when I have other friends?"

Mal's pupils were so narrow as to be barely visible when he glanced out of the corner of his eye at you, but he nodded, and mumbled a very quiet apology as Idia faintly relaxed.

"Impressive. I haven't been able to do that in years."

"That's because you're his dad."

"Do you think anyone else will show up, my Trickster? It's getting cramped in here."

You looked around and considered. "I mean, probably."

~*~*~*~

"Sevens?"

"Go fish."

"And that's when they added a dance emote, but it cause a glitch so the top half of your body started to spin around while the bottom half went normally, which would be okay, but if you collide with a wall then you clip about a mile above the ground and die from fall damage, and when they went to fix that -"

There were eight people in the treehouse, and no room for more. Mal had you in his lap in a corner. Idia was gesticulating wildly as he talked about what you were sure was this universe's version of Fallout 76, tucked against you at an angle. Floyd insisted on you using his lap as a footrest while he, Lilia and Cater played card games with an ancient deck Lilia had produced from another pocket. (You were not certain that Floyd's guesture was innocent, since he kept poking at your toes until you said you'd take them away if he didn't stop.) Rook was skipping this round to keep an eye out the window. There was maybe a half foot total of floor showing. Despite the magic fired and fists swung earlier, as soon as everyone had realized that no one was running to your rescue simply to perform their own indignities, everyone had relaxed.

Overall, it was very cozy, and as long as you could keep Idia talking instead of realizing he was crammed in a tiny room with a whole bunch of people, you could stay here quite comfortably for ages. Your ankles were currently only sore, with twinges of more, no one was at each other's throats, and as long as no one else fucked shit up, you could wait out Vargas, go home, and think about how in the hell you can report a teacher at this school for harassment.

"Trouble's coming."

Ah, shit.

Trouble, unfortunately, had figured out where they were due to the cluster of broomsticks at the base of the tree, flew to the window, and started spewing bullshit.

"What are you all doing? You abandoned the game," and here he guestured towards you, "and didn't come back with the prize. None of you would know what to do with a girl if she begged you!"

What a piece of shit, and he couldn't even read a room with eight sets of eyes glaring murder at him. He was still talking, but you weren't paying attention. Instead, you drained the last of the water, wiped your mouth on your arm, and took a deep breath.

"Get his ass."

~*~*~*~

Everyone scattered after that, not ready to deal with the consequences of ganging up on their teacher, even if he thoroughly deserved it. Everything will be dealt with tomorrow, when you can put weight on your legs without your knees buckling. Mal was walking you out of the woods personally in a princess carry, when he stopped in place.

"See, she's down, you didn't have to bug me."

You'd completely forgotten that Cheka had gone to bug Leona for help. "It's been hours."

He ignored that. "Draconia. What would your grandma say?"

"Mal-"

"I would hope she would be proud of my helping a friend." He held his head high, and brushed by Leona without another word.

"Bye!"

"Bye Cheka." You waved back at Cheka before the two lions were out of sight.

~*~*~*~

"Mal, you know you could just take me to my dorm, right?"

"Someone should keep an eye on you until you are fully healed," he said as he pulled out a pair of silk pajamas.

"Which you could do at my dorm, instead of." You guestured to the hangings on his bed. "Here."

"It's far more comfortable here than your dorm."

"I'm not kicking you out of your bed, Mal."

"You're not in a state to argue." He set the pajamas beside you, before turning to face the wall.

"About that."

He did not move a muscle.

"I'm surprised you didn't just heal them outright."

Silence.

"I know perfectly well that you can. So why didn't you?"

He still said nothing.

"Be that way, Malleus. But you know that's not okay." You flung the remains of your shirt at him, managing to catch it on one horn. "If you want me to stay over, just say that instead of conspiring to keep me dependent for an evening."

He turned, pulling the cloth from his horns, before his eyes nearly popped from his head and he hurriedly turned back to the wall. "I... am not used to this."

"Neither am I. We're going to have to have a little talk about boundaries and healthy friendships. You can turn around now."

He did, you patted the side of his bed, and he joined you.

"How do you want to do this, Mal."

"I do not."

"Tough titty, said the kitty."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I know I'm the first real friend you've had. I've been on both ends of that. You know what happens when you cling real fucking hard to your friend, and try to isolate them because you don't wanna share?"

His face was a practiced mask of emotionlessness. "What is that?"

"They suffocate, and draw away because the intensity is way too much. And then no one's happy."

Mal frowned, but said nothing.

"I do want to be your friend. I like you. You're funny, you're deeply sincere, and you're still the same person I knew when I just called you Horned Boy. But I will cut this off if you try to isolate me. I do not want to, but I will have to. If you can't play nice with others, you don't get to play with me at all."

He's so clearly trying to hide his distress and irritation, but he could not help a sigh. "You are not wrong, Child of Man. And..." He looked away. "You won't live forever. Or be here forever, at that."

"I will not. You won't either, but like, you'll outlive me. Eggs in one basket, and all. Another reason to attempt to make more friends."

"Hm." He stretched out beside you, staring at the ceiling. "With who should I start? My reputation precedes me."

"Well," you smiled, "If I've learned one thing, forced proximity does wonders with forcing Idia to like you, and he's already somewhat used to you."

He smiled at the ceiling. "I do like him."

"Me too. You'd like his little brother."

"The creation?”

"Yeah. Look, I'll network for you with other people. And I'll make sure to invite you places."

"A promise?"

"Of course. Now, are you going to take me home, or put up with the rumours of keeping me in your room all night after beating up Vargas to get at me?"

"... Oh dear."

"Yeah."

After a moment, "... I am alright with the rumours."

You snorted. "You could just ask for a sleepover next time. Don't wait for an injury."

"I will ask."

"Make sure Sebek doesn't eat me in the morning."

"I would like to see him try." He gripped your closest hand and squeezed it.

"Me too."

You lay there a few moments, scary lonely dragon boy and strange lonely human kid, hand in hand.

"Do you have any tales from your home you could tell me?"

"Mostly ones you already kind of know."

"I would still like to hear."

Even a dragon wants a bedtime story, it seems.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twst fic #malleus draconia

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illyrian-lover-flower · 3 years

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The chosen forest keeper 6

Truth was never my gift

word count: ~4.8k

Come, little seer! Come! Follow me! Visit me!

Continued the voice on hissing. The ghostly whisper seemed to fly and spread through the forest like the wind. Turning louder and more insistent ones the gusts of wind picked up their pace, ripped more at her clothing, and when those strong forces ebbed down, so did the ghostly voice.

But still did it echo throughout all of the woods, setting stems and leaves rustling as it kept on hissing into her pointed ears and those of every breathing being around her. Though no one else seemed to follow.

No one else turned their head, their steps, towards the voice – no, further more did the few animals she had encountered, the plants and insects, turn their heads around, moving away in hurried jumps and runs into the opposite direction, while it lured the seer closer and closer.

It was as if her body wandered through the woods, over sticks and stones, without her mind. The pure sound of this voice having turned it into a mindless puppet, that walked and walked and walked.

The steps she took, the direction she went, all forgotten. No little hut stood in the thick greenery of this mystical forest; no little cloud of smoke could be made out. It was as if no life existed anymore, beyond the borders of the Village – of the Villages.

And yet she kept on wandering, kept on moving and let mud cake over her dirty boots. It was pure luck that she wore them and not one of her fancy shoes she wore back in Velaris. Fersia had told her that where they went, such shoes – like she wore- were not pleasant to walk around with, in the Village, but who was Elain to mind? She preferred those dirty worn-out boots more than she could like any pair of shoes.

And in the thick depths of the forest, she was glad she had them hug her feet, though the wetness of the mud seeped already through the brown leather – she was not able to be stopped.

No howl, in the far distance, no cracking twig, could make her turn.

Elain’s whole being hypnotized, lured in, by this abradant voice.

Come closer! Come, come, little seer! You are almost there! Come, come!

The luring voice turned louder and louder, screeched in her twitching pointed ears, as she already made out a thin forest line. Trees turning into bushes and shrubs, that were adorned with little black beads of Belladonna, while they made space for long green grasses –that bowed their stems at the clearing she already could make out- the closer she got. Her breath caught once she saw the field – the golden sea- of the long golden routs of Goldenrods plastered all over the place, little marsh marigolds were strewn in between the tall Goldenrods. Their long yellow heads lifted up towards the moonlight as it soaked them.

Silver fog lining every little petal, dancing around each stem and a mirrored reflection shining right back at the half moon as the little black berries captured it.

Beautiful - was all she could think as she stood still on the bowed grass, at the rim of the golden circle that stretched out all over the large clearing. The voice, which had brought her here, ebbed down to a whisper, as it shooed her into the field.

The wind around her pushing and ripping at her cloak until her feet stepped over the fine border of gold.

In an instant, so it seemed, vanished the world around her. Quietness ensued her every step, as she moved, almost ghostly, towards the centre. No silver beam wanted to touch her as she sidled towards the centre of the dome of peace and quietness, the only noise around her hooded figure, was her long coat, ruffling and caressing the soft little plants, with the heavy sheet of fabric, the pale green skirt of her dress, that poked out from underneath, also greeting those soft blooms through which she strode so carefree and enchanted. A hand of hers stretched out, so welcomingly, to her side, feeling the soft whispers of their petals and blooms on her delicate skin as the veil of moon light settled around her like a ghostly haze, hovering above her shoulders, her hair, her arms, her whole being as nothing but peacefulness filled her in these calming rustlings of quietness.

Here, she had no worry. No fear, no doubt, crept through her bones as she lifted her face up towards the moon, who’s beaming half shone down on her, watching her ever so carefully, as her whole being seemed to sway to the soft gusts of wind.

Peace; that was what it felt like – eternal unending peace, that buried her turmoil and stayed close to her, allowed her to take a deep breath, as the mushy smell of the forest caressed her nose trills and seemed to cling to her.

Free; seemed to whisper the wind to her, in a loving voice, as it stroked her softly closed eyelids, conjuring a sweet smile on her soft lips. No worry ran after her, no sin of what she did traced her shaky steps she started to make as she jumped, no wind would carry her story into the far beyond glittering world of Velaris from here.

She was free and carefree, able to make her own decisions in this new part of the world, she now lived in.

Hello, my dear.

Ripped her suddenly the voice, that carried her here on this restful field, out of her sweet trance and yet, did the dome of silence stay with her. No howl, no gust of wind echoed through her pointed ear – it was only the voice that cloaked her.

“Who is there!?” she suddenly called out, slow panic starting to rise up in this relaxed body of hers, like a cold claw of ice.

There is no need for fear, little fawn.

The way it spoke did anything to her, but to calm her, making her feel as if she were indeed the little fawn, that danced right into the luring trap of the hunter. It set her turning, spinning around and looking worriedly for any trace of the source of the voice – that now laughed in amusement of her fear at her.

Elain couldn’t believe how fast this calming peace made space for her worrying fear, setting her on the edge of her emotions as she kept on looking around for anyone or anything, that was close to her.

“Who is there!” repeated her voice shakingly, making the hissed laughter turn into a howl of it.

Don’t make me laugh like this, little fawn!

Making, whatever it was, laugh was the least of her intentions, but somehow, she managed to be funny whenever she did not try to be, though her fear was anything but amusing – to her at least.

Calm down little seer. I just want to talk to you.

It suddenly spoke. Though the seer still worried, with a rock heavy feeling of dread in her guts, that in the next moment, in which she would be carefree and distracted, a hooded figure would walk out on her and let her see the last moments of her life pass her by on this beautiful field, she still did not wish to anger someone by refusing simply a talk and just run away. No, running away was not the solution to everything, a simple talk had never hurt, she tried reasoning with herself, but perhaps she only wanted to replace this dread with hopefulness as she nodded ever so slowly.

“Who am I going to talk to?” she still could not resist asking. One talk with a suddenly appearing stranger was enough to set her cautious, yet she still did not get a straight answer.

Look around you.

Was all it whispered – no hint of any direction given – still she obeyed and turned round and round, searching for anything or anyone, that stood at the rim of the clearing, bathed in the silver hue of moonlight, but despite the oh, so beautiful plants, did she not find a thing. Only leaves and blossoms, that glittered in the glimmering rays, greeted her with slightly closed heads.

“I can’t see you!” echoed her voice through the night and shattered the silence around her, there was still no animal, no hushed wind, audible in the depths of night, only the whisper – that once again chuckled at her, though it ebbed down as the wind did.

The next time it spoke was the lightness, the playfulness, in the words it whispered, gone, a bit rushed even as if it feared that time was running out. Though time seemed eternal in these lands, thought Elain. After all, she herself was granted more time than she ever wished for, than she ever wanted.

She grew up with the knowledge, that even a healthy human could only age till a century the highest, though the average passed away after seven decades plus or minus, having to get used to an immortal life –knowing that she would see thousands of human generations wander upon this earth, until it seethed – was still a weird thought to her.

But as the voice spoke in such hurried, stern and rushed words, she remembered that even though her life might have turned eternal, the rest wasn’t.

Plants did not grow, nor did they bloom, forever. The sun would not shine all day. The animals would not live an immortal life, as they used the little time they had. Even trees weren’t of eternal growth and so was peace.

Peace was a passing thing, that once it bloomed, it would wither again and turn into ashes as war would rage again. Years, decades, centuries passing till it would sprout another time and bloom. Peace was a fragile thing and the voice merely remembered her of this, as it called upon her in such a stern voice, as if she were a warrior that already stood on the battlefield – not taking the screams and bloodshed for real, as she continued to see peace and flowers.

Little seer, you shall not worry about me – I am no enemy to you. I do not want to harm you – merely do I wish to have your help.

“My help?” questioned Elain the voice that seemed to circle around her, those curious brown orbs of hers still searching secretly for a source as she subtly turned round and round, circling in the wind around her – as if she were the eye of a gentle storm.

Yes, little seer, I wish to have your help.

“With what?”

Strange things happen on these grounds, too much blood –on both sides- had drenched this earth in the past months. They need each other's help, only with combined forces will they be able to find the source of poison, that is seeping into every root and leave around here.

Explained the voice, in a quiet sing-sang, to her. Leaving her with more questions than she already had before.

“What poisonous source are you talking about? And how am I supposed to help?”

But no answer carried over the wind towards her, no hushed whisper met her pointed ears, as the ghostly gusts of wind ebbed down and the sound of nature dared to play again. Leaves rustling, wolfs howling, crickets chirring, all the while the soft wind continued on caressing the blooming Goldenrods with soft whispers.

Speaking in a soft voice to all the vibrant blooms, that nodded and laughed under the sweet stroke, but the wind did not dare to speak to the seer, who wandered - with a billowing cloak behind her, a delicate hand wrapped around the hilt of her dagger and a frown on her face - back towards the rim of the clearing.

Golden blossoms and green leaves bidding their goodby as her light green skirts whispered hers to them. She did not dare to turn around, did not want to see the soft play of gold and silver again, as she knew she would spend hours admiring it and weaving her dainty fingers through the soft petals, not caring that there was someone waiting for her.

There was someone waiting, she reminded herself. Fersia, her friend, was waiting worriedly for her return in the little hut, she did not know the way back to. A strangled cry left Elain's throat as she remembered, or rather did not, the way back. Everything was a blur as she walked towards this magical field of blooming flowers.

She remembered that there was no hut, no smoke, or anything around her, that could help her to go back. All she could do was walk, walk and walk – stepping with heavy tired steps over every stick and stone, climbing over the rotten stems of fallen trees – and walk further.

At least she hoped that she walked further, as it seemed that every strong stem seemed to have the same muster of rough bark blurring her vision.

Was she lost?

Did she even go in the right direction?

But before Elain could question herself further, appeared the little hut at the forest line. Small, dark and smoking through the chimney, did it stand there in all its wooden glory.

With a relieved sigh, the white cloak tightly clutched around her chest, did she stumble towards the little home, that reminded her so much of the one she lived in mere three years ago.

“I am back.” shouted Elain as she opened the creaking door slowly, pulling her mud caked boots off of her cold feet, before she stepped, without thinking twice about it, over the threshold. Though there were no runes, that should protect them from the fae, engraved in the wood – it still felt like coming home to this old hut that only awaited her return.

It all felt so naturel as she closed the door and dwelled in the small space to life in.

Hanging her coat on the coat hook, that was nailed to a broad piece of wood, with a smile, did she only make five happy steps – barefoot - over the cold wooden floor, that slowly creaked under her, towards the little couch on which Fersia sat with folded wings. A knitted blanket thrown over her long, outstretched, legs as she turned her head towards Elain.

A matching smile bloomed upon her features too, while she slowly scooted to the side and made space for the freezing seer, lifting the blanket so she could nuzzle into it too. It might have been summer, but it seemed like summer here had the same strength as autumn in the mortal realm, though Elain could have not cared less, as she settled down onto the couch and pressed herself into the fluffy pillows.

“I am glad you found your way back, Goldenrod.” beamed her friend at her. Elain returned the warm smile and stole a bit more from the blanket – putting her whole freezing body under the fuzzy cover – while Fersia only laughed.

“That cold, huh?”

Elain only looked her in the eyes, lifted one of her naked feet from below the cover and let the cold skin meet the warmed one of Fersia, who hissed and flinched back as the ice block – of Elain’s delicate feet – settled down on her skin. Fersia’s wings flared slightly as she shivered under the cold toes, that pressed against her; “Did you step into a pond? Mother above, you are cold as ice!”

The seer only giggled at her friend, who now got up –under grumbling protest- for a warm pair of socks, leaving Elain all the space of the little couch for a moment, as she moved towards a dresser, who might have stood a mere three meters away from her, pushed up to the side of a spacious bed, that granted the Illyrian female enough freedom at night for her gigantic wings. They looked the same size as Rhys’s, Elain noticed as she watched the female walk those few steps across the room, though her wings were as scarred as Azriel’s. Large and small welts covered the membrane in a lighter colour.

Dread filled Elain’s guts as she looked at them, though it was not their appearance that sent her stomach churning – it was the thought that she was the cause for four of these welts on Azriel’s wings.

Four welts, that were drawn across his wings and even his back - she had seen it, when Madja had changed the bandages once they were home. It was a mere accident, but accident or not – that she had seen them – did not let them vanish, nor did they change her fault in getting them.

It is better like this.

Was all she could tell herself again, as she made her mind concentrate on the crackling of the wood in the little fire place. Her ears listening to each crack the wood made, as flames licked and feasted on the dry logs, while her eyes traced those red and orange bands, that danced in an ever-changing rhythm to the air.

Yet she could not get rid of this lump in her throat, which she tried to swallow so hardly, as she tried to calm down. Insisting ever so forcefully on the thought; It is better like this.

And yet, it all still felt so wrong, as if she wore a tight new gown, that was too small for her measurements, but she knew with time would the seam wear out and eventually fit her, now she just needed to adjust and forget about the comforts of her old gown –her life in Velaris.

Now it was nothing more than a burning piece of fabric that burned along the logs before her eyes – there was no return, nothing could be made out of ashes, at least could the ashes not take on the old form of what they once were, and that she knew.

“These should fit you!” declared Fersia, with a knitted pair of socks, coloured in the colours of the rainbow, as she plopped down, next to Elain’s feet, on the couch. Ripped out of her trance did the seer look at her, as if she were dragged out of a veil, with slightly widened eyes – giggling as she saw the pair of socks Fersia pulled over her cold feet, that had gotten a grasp of their warmth ones again.

“What? There is nothing funny about these socks! My Mama had knitted them a long time ago, so no laughing!” complained the warrior female with slightly reddened cheeks. Trying to follow her request as best as she could, did Elain drag the thick black wool blanket up and over her mouth – silently giggling into the fabric, while Fersia put the socks on her feet.

But there was a faraway look in those soft green eyes of her friend, that slowly traced every knit stitch with her rough fingers, that made Elain ask; “How long is ‘A long time ago’?” An almost hurtful smile spread on Fersia’s thin lips, as she tried to think of it “I think it was seven-hundred-and-two years ago, it was the last Birthday gift she gave me.”

“Why was it the last?” pried Elain further, ever so gently, but Fersia only shook her head. Returning with a heavy sigh into the here and now, only declaring flatly “Something had happened...”

The seer felt a little bit weird, of having information once again hidden from her, but if Fersia did not want to talk about a family member – she could not change this. Not the way Fersia tried as she got up and hurriedly walked towards the small kitchenet, that stood u-shaped in the back of the hut.

A high bar table, that stood vertical directly in front of the left side of the kitchenet, divided the sitting area from the kitchen and on the right side of the u, did a screen wait in the small space between the foot of the bed and the long right arm. The white screen was pushed to the back of the wall, so it offered full view on the bed and dresser, that stood on a little platform a bit higher than the rest.

All in all, it was clear that Fersia used the little room she had well. Dividing the bathroom as a separate room and having the rest stored and organized in the little open space, that appeared to be a bit cramped through all the furniture, yet it was cosy and warm with all the fur rugs to their feet.

“Do you want something to eat, Goldenrod? I made a chicken broth, when you were unconscious, in the hops to get you fast up on your feet again, but apparently you were already strong enough for your walk – you freezing little fighter.”

Elain giggled at that, as she stood with the blanket wrapped tightly around her, slowly padding over to one of the two barstools. “I’d very much like that.” “Good, because like this you get to first; tell me if it is good or bad and second; if it helped you regain strength back a bit.

The vibrant, flower loving female could only nod, as she happily took the large clay bowl into her petite hands, taking happily the first delicious sip of her soup “It’s very tasty, Fersia.” assured Elain the worried female, that heaved a sigh as she sat down opposite her; “Thank the mother! I still know how to cook.”

“Rather good even.” threw Elain in, giggling like a little child into the bowl –that was a final time pressed against her rosy lips, not caring at all that such behaviour would have counted as improper in the mortal realms, or that her family at home would have looked at her as if she grew a second head. But here she could do this and lose slowly the grasp of her formal behaviour – which she did not need when she was at home.

Licking the rest of the spice chicken broth from her lips, did she finally set down the bowl and looked straight into Fersia’s worried eyes. Before Elain could even consider asking, jumped the Illyrian female into the question “Do you have a clue on why you fell unconscious this morning?”

The seer shook her head at this, in all honesty – she did not even want to think about it - this whole question was actually the reason why she went on the walk in the first place – little did she know that this whole walk only brought more questions to the surface.

Questions she wanted to ask another time, she decided as Fersia’s green eyes kept boring into hers.

After minuets of thick silence and almost snapping tension, did her friend finally heave a sigh –chuckling slightly at the question that she was about to ask- “Ok, Goldenrod, all I want to know is if there is a chance that you are pregnant. Some of the females around here grow weaker during their pregnancy –or are just exhausted- so I was wondering if your sudden fainting was due to a pregnancy. I know that there are at least a thousand other options for a reason, but I am no healer so I was -” “Fersia, I am not pregnant.” interrupted Elain the rambling Illyrian with a kind smile and soft words on her lips, shaking her head ever so gently at her brunet friend, who once again heaved a sigh “Thank the mother...” mumbled the female, but soon clarified herself with wide eyes and a shaking head “Not that it would have been a bad thing – just would have gotten a little tight in here, you know?”

Elain could only giggle at her friend, lifting up a pale hand from underneath the table; “I know Fersia, I know. It’s just – I myself don’t really have a clue of what had happened earlier” added Elain in a whispered voice, that was drenched in her own disappointment, but Fersia did not seem to care, as she simply pushed herself off of the chair and went with heavy steps into the direction of the old, plain, wooden dresser.

“It’s alright, Goldenrod. It’s getting late anyway, so I’d thought that you might want to head to bed – it had been quite an eventful day for you after all.” stated the female over her broad shoulder as she shuffled through the wide opened drawer, lifting a pair of brown lose pants up, that seemed to be made out of lamb's wool and a fitting large deep green shirt, successfully in the air, while Elain slowly made her way towards her friend, giggling lightly at the silly gesture.

Fersia only smiled broadly, over her shoulder, at her and threw the clothes at Elain, who dropped the blanket around her in an attempt to catch the clothes successfully – which she luckily did. Still did the female laugh in a rumbling voice at her friend, making a rosy dust of embarrassment appear on her pale cheeks. With a sheepish smile and a ducked in head, did the seer excuse herself into the rather small bathroom.

A small, round, window, that rested calmy on the wall opposite the door, over the old wooden bath tub, that stood waiting and in all its large round glory in the corner. A small washing table, on which a round porcelain bowl, that already had a yellow-ish colour, rested calmly on the wooden surface – most likely how it did since centuries. And a small toilet stood opposite. The whole space was already cramped as it was, yet the small stool that stood next to the sink, did nothing to size up the space.

But still, as little and cramped it was – Elain felt for the first time since years really at home. This unnerving and twisting feeling, which she had in Velaris and the estate back in the mortal realms, only a murmuring of her remorse from her cruel actions. Yet she could not be bothered, her heart might have told her otherwise as it kept on stinging and stinging with every heartbeat, as if a small needle reminded her moment for moment again of the hearts she broke and left shattered on the ground, while she took shelter and joy in this new life, in this new home whose rules were so different.

The words of the male still rung in her pointed ears, as she moved mindless out of the bath chamber and back into the dark living room, where she slowly nestled down under the warm blanket and nestled herself closer into the soft cushions. She did not see Fersia’s gaze, but she felt the wonder and the questions of them prickling over her skin, as she softly spoke “Good night.” with a last curious glance, did the Illyrian, who already lay in bed too, blow out the golden flame of the last candle. Leaving only the small red rubies, that glommed opposite Elain’s place of rest, as source of light.

The seer knew which questions were written in the gaze of her friend, as darkness settled calmy over her, but she did not want to use the kindness of the female too much, as she already offered her a space to stay and live in – she could not take up the space in her bed too.

Though perhaps the main reason was not Elain's kindness, or modesty, no, it was simply that it felt wrong laying in another bed so far from home and yet still thinking of those who lived in this faraway place of rest and love. Elain could – would- not do this to her friend, who had offered her this new life so generously, the female did not deserve to be backstabbed like this.

It was already enough that the oh, so sweet seer, did not speak the truth to her the moment they met.

No, Elain would not use, nor betray, Fersia like this furthermore.

Tomorrow.

Was all Elain could think about as Fersias voice waved over to her ears, through the depth of darkness, like a sweet melody “Good night, Goldenrod.”

And with that silence settled over them, uneasy twisting silence, that seemed to laugh at the squirming seer as she tried to find sleep with all the unspoken truths and all the spoken lies on her tongue, that seemed to suffocate her as it rested dry and thick in her mouth.

Tomorrow; she thought again, as a silent hiss of sleep finally dragged her under and made her numb to any warmth or remorse in her hurting heart.

_________________previous chapter | next chapter _____________________

So, I am sorry this is a bit delayed, but you’d never think what an hour of more writing could do - I sadly had an hour lesser, due to the fact that I had locked my dumbass out of the house and I had to wait till my parents came to the rescue😅

Anyhow, how did you like the Chapter? Things are starting to roll slowly now, as we made it to this point. Hope to have you excited till we reach the main twist of the story😊😘😉

Taglist (please tell me if you want to be added or removed from the list):

@tanaquilpriscilla

@generousfanfan

@hail-doodles

@courtofjurdan

@classywastelandpirate

@heirofthrnightcourt004

@autophobiaxx

#the chosen forest keeper #elriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #azriel #elriel ff #elriel fan fiction #elain's adventure #forest #own character #elain angst #Illyria #Illyrian #death #blood #mortal realms #Archeron

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ravenbrenna09 · 4 years

Text

Jij Verliest - Chapter Five: Clip 5

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master list previous

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Woensdag 21:45

All throughout the day, Robbe kept reaching for his cell phone.

Earlier in the morning, he had reached for his phone, hoping and praying that it would somehow start working again, that all it needed was to dry out, but that hadn’t been the case. It wouldn’t turn on and Robbe was certain that it wouldn’t budge. Once he got back to Antwerp, he would get a new phone. It was no big deal. But Robbe still reached for his phone, hoped with all of his might that it would flip on, and he could text Sander.

But his phone didn’t respond and the black screen taunted Robbe with its blatant inactivity.

To Robbe’s immense relief, Jens let him use his phone to check in with his mama the next morning. Even though she insisted that she was fine with him being away, Robbe still worried all the same and wanted to make sure that she was all right. His mama had teased Robbe lovingly and made Jens promise to watch out for him in the same breath.

Before Robbe surrendered the phone back to its owner, he sent a quick message off to Sander, wishing him a good morning. Robbe didn’t expect anything back at least for a while. It was likely that he was already at the parlor, hard at work, and wouldn’t look at his phone until later. After waiting for several seconds, Robbe handed the phone back over to Jens, who slipped it into his pocket without looking, before he continued his conversation with Kes.

Unlike his other friends, who would’ve teased him immensely, Jens didn’t bat an eye at Robbe messaging someone on his Instagram. When he handed over the phone, Robbe had seen the quiet question in his eyes but Jens didn’t ask. He didn’t push the information out of him. Jens would wait until Robbe was ready to tell. The only thing that Jens had insisted on was not logging out of his account, on the basis of him being unable to remember his password. Robbe had teased him but he did as he was told.

Without his phone, the day flew by in a breeze. Once the group had breakfast—made especially by Kes—they had gone out to the carnival on the pier. Naturally, Robbe had won all of the carnival games with Jayden on his heel, while Aaron spent a lot of money on food. After riding a few rides, they headed back to the beach house and immediately went surfing. Robbe had beat them all to the ocean, scoring the first wave, and fell into the water just as much as the rest of them.

But as he watched his friends argue over who was next, Robbe couldn’t stop his brain from thinking about Sander and wishing he were here to hang out with them.

Once the sun dipped beneath the horizon, they all climbed out of the ocean and took turns in the shower. Kes headed into the kitchen to cook, followed closely by Moyo and Lucas, and the rest of them went outside. While Jayden and Aaron smoked a joint with Jens, Robbe started a fire, lightly adding tissues to kindle the spark. Robbe leaned back and braced himself against the sand, keeping his eyes on the center of the fire.

When Jens’ phone hit his lap, Robbe jumped three feet in the air. His best friend laughed loudly as he sat down in the sand next to him. As Robbe forced his heart rate back down to acceptable levels, Jayden asked, “Are you okay, Robbe?”

Robbe nodded. “I’m good, Jayden.”

Jayden cackled, turning back to the laughing Aaron to continue their conversation.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Robbe said. His comment was directed toward Jens, who was laughing behind his hand. Unable to form a coherent sentence, Jens simply shrugged, falling back further into laughter in the sand. Robbe turned to the phone that he collected from the sand. Robbe expected to see a text from his mother, but his heart fluttered faster at the instagram notification.

earthlingoddity sent you a message

Robbe opened it instantaneously.

earthlingoddity: It’s ‘good evening’ now, isn’t it?

“Thanks,” Robbe said.

“No problem,” Jens said. He sat up in the sand and crossed his legs beneath him. “I didn’t realize that you were seeing Sander.” Robbe bit down on his lip, glancing over at Jens. Seeing the look, Jens added, “You don’t have to tell me anything else. I’m just being nosy.”

Robbe laughed before saying, “Yeah, I’m seeing Sander.” Jens smiled over at him. “I don’t know if you remember. But he was the guy that I was talking to at the bar where we saw Thomas.”

“No, I don’t remember,” Jens said. “Well, I remember you talking to someone. I just don’t remember it being Sander.”

Robbe nodded. “Anyway, when he showed up with Senne and Noor the night we met Jana and the girls, we talked outside and smoked. Then I ran into him at a café the next day. After that, we started talking on Instagram and meeting up.”

Jens nodded. “If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you mentioned him before?” Jens asked. He raised and tilted his head to the side. “I mean, we all know Sander and he’s a pretty good guy. When you started dating Thomas, we heard all about him.”

“That’s why,” Robbe said, letting out a sigh. Jens turned to him, confused, and Robbe continued. “When Thomas and I started dating, our relationship felt so real and I couldn’t wait to introduce you and the Broerrrs and the flatshare to him. But, with Sander…” Robbe trailed off, biting down on his lip.

Stripped of everything else, Robbe’s relationship with Thomas was safe. In the early months of their relationship, Thomas had been warm and open. He talked about his sister’s struggles and his own. Thomas got along with his mom and most of his friends, save Jens, in the final months of their relationship. Whenever they were together, Thomas made Robbe feel safe and warm and accepted.

But with Sander, Robbe still felt all of those things. The only exception was Sander made him feel like that all the time. From the first moment that Sander had seen him outside that bar, he had been able to look past Robbe’s defenses and see the real him hidden behind the wall. Even through texts, he saw Robbe and listened to what he needed and did his best help him. It was intense and enlightening. Their relationship, still in the newfound stages, was far more accepting and warm than his relationship with Thomas.

And it thrilled and terrified Robbe in one certain swoop of his stomach.

“It’s so much more intense,” Robbe said, turning to Jens. “In like, every good way that you could possibly think of. But…” Robbe trailed off again, turning to the fire. “I just don’t want to rush things this time. With Thomas, I rushed into it because it felt real and I felt accepted. With Sander, I feel all that and so much more and I just don’t want to fuck it up.”

“That’s okay, Robbe,” Jens said, patting his shoulder. His expression turned serious as he continued, “And you’re not going to fuck it up. If you want to take things slow, you can take it as slow as you need to.”

Robbe nodded. “Thanks, Jens.”

“You’re welcome,” Jens said, smiling.

Robbe turned back toward the fire, his eyes trained on the embers. In the past few minutes, it had grown stronger than ever, nearly overcoming the twigs that he had gathered. On the opposite side of the fire, Moyo towered over Aaron and Jayden, holding the withering joint to his lips. Robbe could still see Kes in the kitchen, working at something on the stove, and Lucas walked to the two of them, running a tired hand through his hair.

Without hesitation, Lucas sunk down into the sand on Jens’s other side. Jens wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him against his chest. Lucas sunk into his boyfriend’s grasp, resting his head against his chest and let out a sigh. Robbe could see the strained look on his face and he wondered, fleetingly, if everything was okay. However, Robbe could see that Lucas didn’t want to talk about it. Trying to force a smile, Lucas asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Boys,” Robbe deadpanned.

Somehow, a bright grin spread across Lucas’s face, brightening his features. The mere movement was enough to return one to Jens’s face as he cuddled Lucas further against his chest. Grinning over at Robbe with something akin to his Cheshire-Cat-Grin, Lucas said, “Oh! My favorite! Are we finally talking about your mystery guy yet or is he still a mystery?”

“He’s still a mystery,” Robbe said. “But, hopefully, he won’t be a mystery for much longer.”

“Good,” Lucas said. “I’ve been wanting to meet the new guy you’re so crazy about.”

...

Woensdag 21:49

#wtfock #wtfam #brenna writes #jij verliest fic #sobbe #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #rosander #fanfiction #jens stoffels #jayden #aaron jacobs #lucas van der heijden #vds #van der stoffels #the beach house #is the hotel from wtfock or the house from nl?#who knows?

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dailydianakko · 4 years

Text

Dreaming-LWA AU Oneshot

YOOOOO I’m back but not with more ink slinger :’) Please take this oneshot as a consolation prize. This is pretty much an unnamed au that wouldn’t leave me alone haha. Anyway, I have a trip in about a week (guess who is gonna see the lovely Mod Nightly), so I will try to crank out chapter three soon. Anyway, here is the au. Also on AO3 Here.

Diana let out a quiet inward sigh. The golden aura that emanated from the still butterfly cupped in her cold hands drifted towards her nostrils in a spiral with each breath she took. She gave one final sharp breath, and it disappeared. Blue eyes glowed as the Butterfly’s dream flashed through her mind. Darkness, struggling, light, an open meadow filled with flowers of all colors, a warm sun, a sparkling lake whose shores were scattered with white stones. Truly this dream was beautiful. Diana closed her eyes and savored the final taste of the dream. Then, she placed the sleeping butterfly back where it first lay, hidden under a leaf. Diana gazed up at the full moon. A cloud had covered it sometime during her meal. She could still feel the warm summer breeze on her skin, a quiet contrast to the slight chill of the summer night.

Quietly she stepped through the tall grass; her bare feet muffled the noise of her steps. The long green tendrils brushed the hem of her skirt and tickled her translucent feet. She paid the sensation no mind. Diana had a mission to fulfill. She may have eaten her fill of dreams tonight, but she wanted to collect more. The glittering jars of dream pearls she held at home didn’t satisfy her. Her kind was greedy and never satisfied. They could not dream, and so they stole from others. Sorrowful dreams in their dark blues, joyful dreams like small embers, even the ‘bad’ dreams; colored in their dark purples and blacks. All were beautiful as they were empty. Diana wanted them all. Diana paused as a quiet noise joined the night’s song. It did not belong in the serenade of chirping crickets and flapping bat wings. Diana cocked her head as the noise made itself known once more. Breathing. It was a human’s soft snores, coming from one of the tall maple trees in the glen.

Diana wouldn’t call it curiosity that made her seek out exactly who was making the noise, but rather it was the feeling of greed. For quiet snores meant sleeping and sleeping meant dreams. Hers was a selfish motive. Diana practically glided through the small glen towards the source of the snores. As she got closer, she identified the sleeping person as a human girl. The girl was in a ragged school uniform and was sleeping quite heavily; curled into the roots of the old maple. Her back was propped up by the trunk and her head was lolling to the side. Her brunette hair was tangled, and her small topknot was half undone and tangled with twigs. Diana let out a quiet haughty sniff at the sight of drool slowly dripping from the comatose girl’s mouth. Yet she ignored the disheveled look of her prey, simply because of the silver aura that had begun to rise. A dream was being born.

Diana slowly bent down and reached out to smooth the girl’s hair. No movement other than the soft rise and fall of the girl’s chest. She truly was asleep. Diana prided herself on being cautious, for during the witching hour, ayakashi and yokai like herself were visible to the more sensitive humans. She watched for a minute longer, and the silver aura began to show hues of gold. Ever so slowly, she reached out and grabbed the wrist of the sleeper next to her. It was time to collect this dream. Diana didn’t expect the girl’s eyes to open. Sharp blue met a dazed red. “Hello.”

Diana dropped the now awake girl’s wrist like she had been burned. She nearly fell over from shock. Diana could have sworn that this human couldn’t possibly see her. The wind. The night wind had blown back the clouds, allowing the light to shine on her body. No longer was her form covered in the shadow. The light allowed even the dullest human to perceive her. Diana let out a quiet curse and turned to go. Humans were a vain race, one that withered shortly after being born. They were but a single breath during a yokai’s lifetime, and it wouldn’t do to mingle. A warm hand clasped her wrist. An echo from her own touch earlier.

“Please wait. I’m a little lost” The brunette nervously ran a hand through her hair as she gripped Diana’s wrist. “I am Atsuko Kagari, do you know the way out of this forest? I was at the lodge with my uncle and I wandered off and got lost, I really need help.”

Diana let out a sigh. Humans these days had no sense. Giving out a name without regards to the multitude of harmful spells that could be cast. No regard for any self-preservation whatsoever. How foolish could they be? Diana attempted to pry Akko’s hand from her wrist. “No. Wait here. I am sure a rescue will come for you soon.” Diana refused to meet those eyes again. It was a lie that a rescue would come. This glen was hidden well. A playground for spirits. Akko would either starve or some other yokai would come and finish her off.

Diana freed herself with a twist, and Atsuko let out a cry of dismay. Diana took a step away from her, and Atsuko retaliated by flinging herself around Diana’s waist. Diana stood firm and let out a quiet sigh, one hand resting on the brown locks of hair. They were soft. She could feel Atsuko’s tears leaking through her shirt, and the quiet fearful shakes that ran through the brunette’s body. This was turning out to be quite bothersome. She might as well rid herself of Atsuko now, rather than resort to expending more effort on the human. Besides, if she learned of where the human lived, she could harvest dreams from her. Once more she twisted herself from Atsuko’s iron grip.

“Come.” Diana said as she held out a hand. Comfort was a human need, and it was more preferable to have the sobbing girl clinging to her hand than her whole body. Atsuko’s hand frantically clasped Diana’s. It seemed as if Atsuko didn’t notice the translucent state of Diana’s body. Diana gently tugged Atsuko forward, ignoring Atsuko’s frantic scrubbing of her face. It was a futile effort to wipe away tears and snot. Atsuko was merely spreading dirt around. Sighing heavily once more, Diana halted her steps. She reached into the breast pocket of her shirt and pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with lavender. “Here.”

Atsuko took the handkerchief with a watery smile and a thank you. She carefully wiped away all the dirt on her face and offered it back to Diana. Why Atsuko thought she would want a filthy handkerchief back was beyond Diana’s reasoning. Diana let out a hum and pushed it back to Atsuko. “I have no use for it, Atsuko. Keep it or throw it away. I care not.”

“Alright,” Akko said as she stowed it in her skirt pocket. “And, um, you can call me Akko. Atsuko feels sort of stiff.” Diana let out a noncommittal hum. It wouldn’t do to get attached to a human. Besides, this one was a rather filthy and silly one. It certainly did not cater to Diana’s refined taste.

“I see nothing wrong with Atsuko. Therefore I shall call you what I wish, human.” Diana turned away and resumed her walk, practically tugging Atsuko off her feet in her haste. She frowned as she heard Atsuko giggle slightly. She picked up her pace. Humans were rather annoying, and she did not wish to be in Atsuko’s company any longer. Diana kept her quick walk until she heard Atsuko’s smooth breaths turn ragged. Humans tired so easily, and they were only halfway down the mountain. Diana slowed her steps, allowing Atsuko to regain her breath. Diana frowned as she realized Atsuko was still trailing behind and beginning to stumble. Humans may not be able to see well at night, but the moon was bright tonight. Surely Atsuko was just incapable. She stumbled again and Diana let out a quiet groan of annoyance. It couldn’t be helped.

“Here, Atsuko.” Diana released Atsuko’s and stepped in close. She placed one hand on Atsuko’s back and stooped down. She ignored the stutters of protest that flew from Atsuko’s mouth. She swept Atsuko’s legs out from under her and hoisted her up effortlessly. Once more she began her trek, ignoring the blubbering of the human in her arms. This certainly was faster. Diana glanced down at Atsuko. The brunette had taken on the color of a late autumn apple and was attempting to cover her face. Inwardly Diana smiled. Though they were ugly, humans were amusing. It made her want to play a trick or two. However, Diana ignored the impulse. She needed to collect more dreams after this, the moon would set soon. With the fading of the night, the higher quality dreams would fade as well.

Diana began to slow as they approached the foot of the mountain. Human lodgings were usually around this area. They loved to live in clans, and would be searching for Atsuko without a doubt. Diana scanned the trees, searching for torch fire and the shine of flashlights. Diana spared a glance at Atsuko. It seemed like she had grown tired during the journey, and had been lulled to sleep in Diana’s arms. Diana’s eyes shot back to the tree line as she saw a harsh light cut through the shadows and heard the frantic deep calls of a male human. The call for Atsuko’s name assured Diana that this was indeed the settlement Atsuko had come from.

She gently shook Atsuko awake. It wouldn’t do to get punched in the face by a startled human. It wouldn’t hurt, but it was annoying to have to deal with apologies. Atsuko let out a few sleepy mumbles, and Diana shook her slightly harder. Atsuko’s eyes slowly fluttered open “Whazzat?” Atsuko slurred as she rejoined the realm of wakefulness.

“We have arrived; your Uncle is in the vicinity. I do not wish to be seen, and I have more tasks to complete tonight. Here is where we part” Diana gently slid Atsuko to her feet, keeping hold until she was steady.

“Thanks, Diana! Will I see you again? My family will be staying here all month.” Atsuko asked as she rubbed at her sleepy eyes. Diana made a noncommittal noise, she would not bind her fate to this human’s. She would probably leave this mountain and stay in the world of ayakashi and yokai, pouring over her dreams until the mountain was empty once more. Getting tied up in the affairs of humans always left a bad taste in her mouth. They were naught but dust in the wind, and interactions with them were best kept short.

“Go. Your Uncle is waiting.” Diana pointed over to the beam of light that began to head in the other direction. She was caught off guard when Atsuko darted forward and kissed her cheek.

“Thanks once more, Diana! I’ll see you tomorrow!” With that Diana watched Atsuko run after her Uncle. Diana smiled as she heard Atsuko get scolded for wandering off. She would never admit to following them to the edge of the forest, warding off wayward yokai with her presence.

“Akko...how interesting.” Diana supposed it couldn’t be helped. Diana looked towards the sky. It was gaining light. Reds and purples were mixing with the inky black. Her hunting time was gone, and the pathway back home would surely be closed. It would be more beneficial to rest until the next night. She would make her way back to the glen and the maple tree. It had seemed like a comfortable place to rest, after all.

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The sun gently shone down through the leaves of the maple, gently dappling Diana with its warm light. The wind gently played with her hair, and carried the sweet smell of the wildflowers. Birds sang their songs, greeting the sun. Diana sat under the tree, dozing but not quite asleep. In the day hours no human could see her, but it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious. It would have been more worthwhile to have slept in the youkai world among the shadows, but she was curious. Akko had sparked something in her that she wanted to know more about. Diana would be content to watch from the shadows until her curiosity was fulfilled.

The quiet snapping of undergrowth alerted Diana to another presence. She didn’t open her eyes, but cast out her senses. It wouldn’t do to get startled from a mere squirrel after all. As hidden as the youkai and ayakashi were, they still had their pride. Diana honed in on the presence she felt. Human, smelling of woodsmoke, soap, and ointment. They were young and female. Diana’s eyes quickly opened as she matched it up with the same presence from last night. It was Akko.

She quietly watched as Akko bumbled her way through the clearing. Diana noticed that she had changed from her uniform to simple denim shorts and a red shirt. She watched as the brunette moved the brush and checked under stones as if she was looking for something. Diana continued her silent observation as Akko walked farther and farther into the glen. When Akko locked eyes with Diana, the youkai stiffened. Humans couldn’t see youkai during the day. The cover of the moon and shadows during the witching hours were the only time the two worlds met. Yet Akko’s eyes lit up as she bounded towards Diana.

“Diana!” Akko shouted as she tackled the poor yokai. Diana winced in response. How could Akko see her? During the day, no less? Humans these days were notoriously duller than their predecessors. They no longer noticed the ayakashi that roamed the earth, playing tricks and causing calamity. The fact that Akko could see her in broad daylight was disconcerting. Diana felt the back of her neck prickle in anxiety.

“Atsuko,” Dinaa said with a slow nod, covering her anxiety. “I see you have returned.” Diana pried Akko off once more and ran a hand over her shirt to smooth the wrinkles. Akko smiled and gave a vigorous nod. Diana tried not to pinch the bridge of her nose. The oncoming headache she felt was surely caused by the human. She gave a small sigh and stood up. Diana offered her hand to Akko, and the brunette readily took it. With a small tug, Diana helped pull Akko up to her feet.

Diana released Akko’s hand and made a move to walk away, but Akko grabbed onto her sleeve. How a people could disregard manners without a care always surprised Diana. The sheer audacity of humanity was never ending. “Diana,” Akko said as she tugged Diana’s sleeve, pulling her out of her thoughts, “can you show me around the mountain?”

Diana hummed in thought. On one hand, she’d be stuck playing guide to Akko. On the other, she could always attempt to ditch her. Diana frowned slightly at the thought. Akko getting lost again would be more of a hassle. Humans were fragile and the other Ayakashi were not as forgiving. Another search for Akko would lead to more humans crawling over the mountain. She would escort Akko, just so that Diana could enjoy peace. Diana had been planning to shadow the girl anyway. This was a minor deviation from the original plan.

“I shall escort you, Atsuko, wherever you wish to go,” Diana said “as long as you give me payment.” Diana reached forward and picked up a lock of Akko’s hair. She felt her lips twist into a feral smile. She relished the power she felt coursing through her veins. It thrummed of a power old, of the forgotten days when youkai were feared and didn’t live in hiding from a world that had forgotten them. And yet, some part of her hated the way Akko’s eyes flashed with fear for a split second at her actions. The sharp tang of Akko’s fear that flooded her senses. Diana hated it. She pulled away quickly, turning away from those fearful eyes.

“What would be the payment?” Diana heard Akko stutter. She heard the rustling of clothes. Akko must be shifting uncomfortably. Akko’s heartbeat thudded in Diana’s ears, hard and fast. Like prey. Diana closed her eyes and forced herself to block it out. She ate dreams, not flesh. She was not uncivilized. Only a fallen youkai consumed human flesh. She resided in light, not in the darkness of the fallen.

Diana quickly spun on her heel to face Akko again. She held out her hands to the side, palms up. A gesture to help Akko feel at ease, ensure her that Diana meant no harm. “That, my dear Akko, would be a dream.”

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“I figured you weren’t human,” Diana heard Akko pant as she followed Diana up the steep rocky slope. “No normal person gets face tattoos like that.”

Diana chose not to comment, and instead grabbed Akko. Her facial stripes indicated that she was powerful. To call them ‘face tattoos’ were demeaning. She hoisted Akko effortlessly up the rocky slope, ignoring Akko’s squawks of indignation at suddenly being swung around. Akko was soft, Diana noticed as she set Akko down. She had to be careful. One wrong move and she could crush Akko. Diana loosened her grip slightly. She didn’t want to hurt her.

“Look, Akko” Diana gestured to the horizon. The climb had been worth it. The foothills of the mountain rolled out before them. The tops of the trees were swaying slightly in the breeze; it looked like a distant green ocean sprawled before them. The setting sun’s light bathed the sky in a golden halo. It added an ethereal quality that made the view below seem like a painting. Diana looked over at Akko. The brunette had her mouth opened slightly and her eyes were filled with wonder. Diana felt a tug on her sleeve and smiled. She felt at peace.

“Diana,” Akko broke the silence between them “Why do you want my dreams?” Diana gave a small hum. She knew Akko had been curious this entire time. During the long climb, she had been fidgety and had constantly been looking over at Diana. As if Diana wouldn’t notice those glances. Akko had been quite obvious with them. Diana took a breath and thought over her answer.

“Yokai and ayakashi from the moment of our birth never forget anything. We keep all our important memories. As such, no matter how much we sleep, we never dream.” Diana kept her eyes focused on the horizon. She could feel the pity in Akko’s gaze. She didn’t understand why. Dreams were inferior; an affliction to those who couldn’t remember. They teased others with memories that would never be recalled. Diana was free from such constraints, so why did she feel wronged when Akko looked at her.

“Is that why you want mine?” Akko’s voice was gentle. Diana felt a warm hand on hers. She continued to avoid Akko’s gaze, choosing to look at Akko’s hand instead. It was tanned, shades darker than her own skin. It also lacked the translucent quality of Diana’s. Akko was a being who belonged in this world, Diana wasn’t. It was reflected in how solid and warm Akko was, how real.

“Somewhat. My clan lives off of dreams. It's our sustenance.” Diana moved her hand so that her fingers laced with Akko’s. The warmth was addicting. It was like she had a small fire cupped in her hands.

“Are there more of you?” Akko sidled closer to Diana with this remark, resting her head on Diana’s shoulder. Diana stiffened, but she allowed it. Both of them looked out once more at the setting sun. Reds and indigoes streaked the horizon.

“I am the last. We are an old and outdated race, much like other ayakashi.” Diana began to move her thumb across Akko’s hand, tracing gentle circles. She didn’t want to lose herself in the memories of old. Never forgetting was as much as a curse as a blessing.

“I’m sorry.” Akko blurted out. Diana glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. The brunette looked near tears. Diana didn’t like it. Diana liked beautiful things, and Akko was most beautiful when she was smiling.

“Whatever for? They were weak. It is the way of life. Ayakashi and Yokai live long, but not forever. We fade after a time.”

“Hey Diana, do you only eat human dreams?”

“No,” Diana paused and looked at the sunset. It had almost sunk under the horizon completely. “All life has dreams. Trees, butterflies, humans, all share the wonder of dreaming. Would you like to see one?” Diana could probably find a dream at this hour. She wanted Akko to experience other’s dreams. Life outside of humanity could be beautiful, if one had the chance to see it.

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Diana led Akko through the forest, quietly matching her pace with Akko’s. The last dregs of light were fading, and she wanted to make sure that Akko wouldn’t stumble and fall. Diana was eager to find a dream close to where Akko was lodging. It was best to avoid a repeat of the night before. Diana scanned the pathway as the two walked. Finally spotting the elusive golden mist, she paused. Akko stumbled into Diana’s back, jarred by the sudden stop.

“Here.” Diana walked up towards a tree and gently placed a hand on the rough bark. It was old and twisted. Diana reached her hand towards Akko’s. The brunette clasped it, and Diana pulled her into an embrace.

“Be careful, and stay close to me.” Diana muttered into Akko’s ear as she began to activate the magic. Akko looked at her questioningly, but nodded. With that, Diana closed her eyes; and they both began to fall.

Diana opened her eyes and surveyed the world around her. She was in the dream, and Akko was still in her arms. It looked like this was a peaceful dream, one of a calm day in the forest. Diana gently shook Akko to awareness. The brunette gave a small murmur and her eyes fluttered open. When she saw the scenery around her, Akko sat upright. Diana had to dodge before Akko’s forehead collided with hers.

“Is this the dream?” Akko said as she gazed around at the forest around her. Her eyes were full of wonder. What used to be an aged tree was now a younger sapling half its previous size. Sunlight dappled around them through the leaves, and a few yards away a doe and her fawn were grazing. Diana nodded and put a finger to her lips.

“Though we are in a dream, creatures are aware of our presence. The deer will not linger if you continue to be excitable.” Diana said in a hushed whisper. Akko clapped a hand to her mouth and nodded vigorously. Together they watched the pair of deer quietly graze for a moment. Diana smiled at the peace she felt. Akko was nestled under her chin. The breeze was sweet and the sunlight gentle. Diana wouldn’t mind spending an eternity wrapped up in this dream.

“It seems like a curse that you can’t experience this for yourself, Diana.” Akko whispered. Diana gave a startled blink. Akko’s sudden comment had pulled her from her sleepy reverie.

“To you, it may seem awful, but for us it is merely the way of life. We never forget, so we cannot dream. However, I enjoy this experience, with you.” Diana avoided Akko’s eyes again as she spoke. It was somewhat embarrassing admitting that she did enjoy Akko’s presence. She wasn’t as much of a bother as Diana first assumed. She gave a startled cry as Akko twisted in her grip and threw her arms around Diana. “Diana, I’ll share my dreams with you!” Akko declared, her eyes lit with a fiery passion. “I want you to be happy!” Diana smiled at Akko’s antics.

“Very well, Akko. I look forward to the happiness you’ll bring.” Diana looked at Akko with gentle eyes. She didn’t want this moment to end. However, the crackling of undergrowth startled them both. Diana whipped around to see the deer had run off, thoroughly startled from Akko’s earlier declaration. Diana couldn’t hold it back anymore and began to laugh. She stood up and pulled Akko with her.

“Akko, shall we give chase?” Diana said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a smile on her lips. Akko just laughed and tugged Diana’s wrist, dragging Diana after the deer. Diana allowed Akko to tug her off her feet, stumbling after the brunette fully entranced. The undergrowth snapped under their feet as they gave gleeful chase.

“You know Diana, you’ve been calling me Akko all day! And here I thought that you were stuck up!” Akko called over her shoulder. Diana just answered with a laugh. The brunette had brought light and warmth to her world of shadow. If the gods were real, Diana wanted to spend forever with Akko.

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Diana gently carried Akko back down the mountain. After the trip through the forest’s dream, Akko had fallen back asleep and Diana had opted to carry her once more. She ignored the golden aura around the brunette. Akko was too precious to be a mere food source. Diana wanted the memory of their fun to stay with Akko. She gently placed Akko on the ground; they were still in the tree line hidden from the view of the cabin.

“Akko.” Diana softly called Akko’s name. The brunette rubbed the sleep from her eyes and propped herself up to look around. “I brought you home.”

“Hey.” Akko said in a sleepy daze. She got up groggily and gave Diana a hug. “Can I see you again tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Diana said as she brushed dirt from Akko’s shirt. “I will be waiting in the clearing.”

“Did you take your payment?”

Diana bit her lip. “Yes.” she lied smoothly. Akko nodded and began to tottle off to the house.

Diana made sure to watch until Akko had gotten inside safely. For a few more hours, she lingered. Listening to the song of the night, the whisper of the trees, and if she strained to hear it; Akko’s soft breaths. She wished that she could be there to guard Akko’s dreams. Instead, she contented herself with watching from afar. She stayed in the vicinity, devouring dreams from the nearby wildflowers. As she ate, she plucked a few and tucked them into her breast pocket. Akko would find them beautiful, and Diana wanted to share them.

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Every day that month, Diana would meet Akko at the glen. She’d tell Akko stories about other ayakashi and youkai. They’d hunt for wildflowers to press, and Akko would offer Diana shiny stones she’d find along the paths. Diana loved spending time with Akko; every day was a gift, with something new to appreciate. The way the cool mountain stream flowed over her feet, the smell of the flowers, the butterflies in the meadows, and the berries on the vine.

Though Diana said she only ate dreams she had enjoyed sampling the human food Akko had brought. She had tempted Diana with wild berries and Japanese sweets, and Diana had learned she couldn’t say no to Akko’s face. Diana’s favorite had been the Popsicle Akko had brought from the cabin’s freezer. The icy watermelon flavor had been sweet, yet not overbearing. The color also reminded her of Akko’s eyes. Yet another perk, not that she would admit it to the brunette.

All the while, Diana had a sense of foreboding. The summer couldn’t last forever, and Diana didn’t belong in this world. Akko was human, and she couldn’t join Diana in the realm of youkai. She’d either be eaten or pass away all too soon. Diana’s heart throbbed at the thought of Akko being ripped from her through death. Diana couldn’t bear the idea of watching Akko slowly age and wither. Yet there was no way to turn her into a youkai.

Besides, Diana was a being filled with power, and Akko was human. Over time, Diana’s aura would cause Akko to sicken and die. She had seen it happen before, with a nogitsune and her human lover. The gentle human had been crushed under the weight of being exposed to the dark kitsune's power after a year. If Diana was to preserve Akko, she would need to stay at a distance. Diana knew what needed to be done. The summer would end how it started, like a dream.

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The sun had once again begun to set; Akko had been laying in Diana’s lap playing with her hair. She had been trying to give Diana a small braid, but was failing miserably. Diana knew that Akko had picked up on her anxiety, and that she was hiding something.

“Akko,” Diana tried to say without her voice cracking “I think you should take a nap.” Akko blinked at Diana and gave a smile. There was uncertainty in her eyes.

“Okay!” Diana didn't look at Akko’s face as the brunette dropped the small braid she had been working on. Akko settled more comfortably into Diana’s lap. “Hey Diana,” Akko opened one eye and looked at her. “If I ever got the chance to be born again, I’d like to spend more time with you.”

“I would like that very much too, Akko. So much.” Diana said softly, touching Akko’s face. She leaned over and kissed Akko’s forehead. Then, she cast a spell.

Akko had fallen asleep instantly. Diana wasn’t sure whether to be proud that her spell had worked, or distraught. All she had to do now, was wait. Wait for the moment when she would steal Akko’s dream, and memory, of herself. If they had to part, Diana didn’t want Akko to suffer. She was fairly certain that Akko knew what she had planned. The brunette had looked at her with such pity, much like on the second day they had met. Diana had felt it in her gaze, even if she didn't meet eyes with Akko.

When Diana saw the golden aura around Akko, she hesitated. Was this what was really best? Did Akko deserve this? Diana took a shaky breath. She was a heartless yokai. It didn’t matter what was best, or what Akko deserved. All that mattered was Diana’s will, and Diana’s will was to be forgotten. Akko deserved to find a normal human lover, and to live a normal life away from yokai and ayakashi. Away from the danger that Diana presented. Diana would fulfill the contract she had made with Akko at the beginning of summer. Steeling her resolve, Diana finally stole Akko’s dream.

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Akko walked along the road from school. Ever since the summer she had stayed at her Uncle’s cabin, she had felt empty. Like something was missing, but she didn’t know what. She wanted to chew at something with how frustrated she felt. She should have some gum in her pocket. Jamming her hand roughly into her pocket, Akko felt her hand brush against a wad of cloth. She pulled it out and looked at it. It was a handkerchief, embroidered with lavender. She didn’t know where it had come from, no one in her family used handkerchiefs. It felt so familiar though.

She stuffed the handkerchief back into her pocket and kept walking. As she walked, she tried to remember what she had done that summer. All she recalled was running through the mountains with someone. Who that someone was, she didn’t know. Perhaps it was someone from another family at a different campground. Lost in her thoughts, Akko accidentally bumped her shoulder into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” She blurted out frantically. The person she had bumped into looked to be someone her age. Blonde hair and a raggedy little braid. Clear blue eyes. A familiar white skirt. The gold pendant she wore made Akko’s heart twist. She looked painfully familiar, like someone from a painful memory she couldn’t recall. “Uh, do I know you?” The stranger smiled and shook her head. With a wave, she walked away. All Akko could do was watch, confused. Something urged her to chase after the stranger. Akko took a deep breath, and in a single moment, she made her choice.

#lwa #little witch academia #akko kagari #diana cavendish #dianakko #diakko #my writing #lwa au #daily speaks #back on my bullshit #time to leave and never return #i have a love affair with commas asmr

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shoresofacheron · 3 years

Text

It was always a gamble now, opening his eyes to see if the sky would still be the blue he recognized as reality, or the awful swirling green that lead into the Fade. He’d never grow accustomed to it, seeing the mountains slowly being pulled apart and floating away.

It wasn’t natural.

No one should question if they were awake or dreaming, no one should have to look up at the sky and wonder if today is the day that the Ventori descend from the heavens as their city is slowly ripped from the ground and sent into the realm of spirits and demons.

Cullen dwelled on the bitter thought for a moment longer, glaring up at the distant writhing green energy with distaste few could match. It was spreading, slowly moving to consume the entirety of the sky. Months ago he hadn’t been able to see it, but now…

Soon it’d be upon him, if he didn’t keep moving.

And somewhere in that nightmarish oblivion was the Elder One, sitting atop a black throne. What was it he called himself? An attentive god?

Maker preserve him, Cullen would have laughed if the lunacy wasn’t also partly truth. A blighted, twisted figure sat on the Maker’s throne and saw Thedas sundered for his own amusement. Everything was in shambles, and all he could do was as everyone else did—

Run.

The Western Approach was a desolate wasteland of sand, rock, and withered flora. Wind swept emptiness saw most trees resembled driftwood, grey-white, smooth to the touch and utterly lifeless. The sun still shone here, it hasn’t disappeared behind the wall of Fade-torn sky in the distance. Eventually it would, the man recognized, but it wasn’t a concern at the moment.

But with the sun, came the sweltering heat.

Mid-morning and it was already enough to make Cullen give pause about moving onwards. By afternoon it’d be too hot to venture forward, but the problem was if there was any shade or shelter to be had further along. There were rumours of an oasis, but whether the words held truth, or were just the lies desperate travellers told themselves to keep motivated was another concern.

He’d bet his last copper it was a lie. A fabrication mothers told their tired children as they aimlessly marched.

Behind him, his horse snorted with the displeasure one would imagine a Fereldan Charger would have at being in such a terrible environment. Cullen didn’t blame the beast – he didn’t want to be here either.

Alas, going back wasn’t an option. The sky was the least of the concerns, Orlais’ alliance with the Elder One meant it was swarming with Red Templars. Cullen had caused them enough headaches to know it wouldn’t be wise to draw their gaze.

That thought in his mind, he moved on. He couldn’t afford to scorn the sky and think of the enemy. He couldn’t fight them.

Afternoon did not arrive as a sudden inferno. It snuck up on him, much to his chagrin. The sun rose higher and higher, and for a while he thought himself and his steed fine until suddenly the air danced and mirages played havoc with his sights.

A canyon brought some relief, the breeze that carried through kissed his skin and cooled Cullen some. The plant life here was sparse but healthier, with leaves of silvery green on their thin twigs and branches. Some sported tiny black berries. And out of the cracks he spotted the vivid green vines of Elfroot.

Cullen scoffed gently, looking ahead once more. That plant would grow anywhere.

The air brought forth something else he hadn’t thought he’d find here. The scent of magic, if it could rightly be defined so mundanely. It was something that went unsaid between templars, that magic had its own smell. It was old, reminiscent of an ruin or derelict building.

He’d forgotten the scent when he was back east. There’d be so much magic, he hadn’t been able to differentiate it from anything else. It’s subtly had been easily overpowered by blood, smoke, and burning bodies.

It wasn’t so outrageous to think the Ventori were here. Maker knows, Cullen wasn’t lucky enough to manage to avoid them. But there was usually far more evidence of their presence.

Mutilated bodies, shrines devoted to Corypheus… all that was lacking.

With a click of his tongue he urged his horse onwards, the walking becoming a trot until—

A body of a man lay slumped against the wall. Cullen drew his sword swiftly, pausing at the corpse suspiciously.

A templar, he could tell by the armour. Yet not the good sort. The man’s skin was vaguely green with sickness, with putrid black veins showing in his face. His eyes were wide open but lifeless.

He’d been killed by spellfire, his neck was near burnt away, revealing fine red crystals that’d been growing just under his skin.

A red templar—just as well, if Cullen didn’t have to deal with Ventori, it was the Red Templars.

He glared down the winding passage, grip on his sword tightening.

The templars were far too concerned with the mage they’d cornered to pay any mind to an assault coming from their flank. It wasn’t until Cullen was nearly on top of them that the first man turned and let out a shout.

His last, as Cullen’s blade found the gap between his breastplate and helmet with startling ease. The footsoldier’s head rolled as the twitching body collapsed.

Two other men were bowled over by the horse, knocking them aside.

Briefly, it was obvious why the mage would take refuge here. The canyon opened up to a pool of water graced by spindly but healthy trees.

Cullen turned his horse around, putting it and himself between the recovering enemy and the mage.

He chanced a moment to glance at her, brows knitted together in a frown (though it was hardly aimed at her).

Dark hair, eyes like a cat or lizard, and clothing that reminded him more of wildmen and the Avvar than any civilized society.

She struck him as vaguely familiar, but it didn’t matter. Not now, his attention was back on the templars. The two he’d knocked over had recovered, and three others he’d merely surprised were now conflicted on focusing on him, or the apostate they’d followed.

@warwaged for Morrigan ❤︎

#// first post first post #// i dont know if you wanted kieran there or not so its left open #// lemme know if anything needs changing

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kaetastic · 4 years

Text

ONLY HIDDEN WAY

pairing: Geralt Of Rivia x Assassin!Reader

summary: A special someone had caught the attention of a certain eye.

word count: 2.2.k+

warning: foul language :)

note: thank you so much for 400 followers! i still wonder to this day why my horrible writing has been read or is 😩🥺 thank you 💕 also, i have twigged some things and some parts might not cooperate with the game’s concept.

Trails of crimson red soaked her last pair of clean shirts, the path it created formed a pattern as if a twig was dipped in a bucket of blood, before being smeared to create a whimsical pattern. The dried-up meandering rivers contrasted with a darker crimson compared to the fresh iron. Definitely not from her recent victim. A buzzing of a groan rung through her head at the task she had been running away from. She liked to believe and use the excuse that since every day she was always on her feet with a sword in her hand, she always dodged the chance to have her clothes be scrubbed from what may be a casserole of her scowling victims. The procrastination lingered longer than she wanted it to be. Now, she had to face it.

Even though the air was stuffy with a tangy kick of alcohol, she had to clench her jaw to tolerate the insufferable people. There was nowhere she could go. Her eyebrows would send quirked glances towards the taken seat beside her, the pile of swords that occupied the seat glimmered from the sun, a threatening method against the figures who continuously bumped into her table that wiggled with a cracked foot. The unstable table got her agile reflexes to sigh at the taunting task. Through the blinds, scorching sunlight seeped through the open windows to cast light upon the tavern. Although there was an attempt to cover the blinding rays, the so-called ‘curtains’ were frilly and thin, which had been stabbed multiple times as a design. The failure at blocking the factor cooked up the building like an oven.

She couldn’t even rest her arm on the wooden table. The heat caused the table to sizzle, possibly able to fry an egg. Even if beads of sweat dripped down her skin, the thick coat draped over her body was the only medium blocking her from breathing comfortably. It was clearly made to withstand the freezing winter. Unfortunately, it was not said-season. If she had taken it off, she knew the consequences she would have to face. Which was not something she wanted to do. Poking her tongue against the walls of her inner cheeks, her ears tugged her attention towards the conversations that buzzed around her. Despite her best efforts in an attempt to block the prodding thoughts, her ears had cheered victory once the list she had visualized crumpled like dry bread.

She was blending in the shadows perfectly, it had fooled everybody. Almost like she had been seen as normal. Even though she knew no one would ever say so. Or maybe it was the intimidating aura that was exuded by her. That was until someone had to recognize her. The ale that had been building up in his gut had struck a chord in him, he had finally connected the dots. Although it made him stumble left to right, it seemed his head only functions when he was not in the right state of mind.

“Oh! Look who is ‘ere!” The boisterous noise that once banged throughout the room died down, the conversations between one another creaked in silence. Like trickling of sand from an hourglass, time ticked. The shy wind nudged the sign which slapped the walls with an asynchronous rhythm. They zipped down the rope that was locked onto her figure, his eyes being their guide. Their eyes rested onto a figure who sat in the corner of the tavern. Smears of light caressed her rich blue cloak, only those which grazed over the scorching table breached into other eyes. “Misty ain’t it? Isn’t it Beast these days?”

Whilst chuckles and short strings of laughter attached itself to his amusing joke, verses of cursing roared in her head. Fuck, how could I forget to remove the pin. The rose badge on her cloak pouted, not happy with the unfair treatment. Maybe it was because of her exhaustion and lack of places to rest that she was distracted from doing things she would always do to conceal her identity. “Do not call me Misty.” A sneer sported on her lips, annoyance and rage bubbled through her veins. It would only make sense for her to listen to voices with a muffled ear. And unlike the others- the longer she lived, the more vulnerable she was for her anger to be triggered with a simple flick. Everything could strain her tendons with a click of a noise. She should’ve been used to be ridiculed by immature names. However, those who had labelled her momentous events definitely had no idea how to name. She despised Misty. While she had ridden high on her horse, Amber, she had passed multiple towns where she had heard her names been dropped as if a mere object. The speckle of clouds in her eyes was the reason for the uprising name.

She didn’t know who started or concocted it. Even if the slight mutation in her eyes had her labelled as different, it had saved her countlessly whenever she was on the brink of death. As if her guardian angel. A chuckle rang in her head at the obnoxious idea. A moment of shock pulsed through the customers before laughs broke loose as they reluctantly followed a nervous snort.

“What ya gon’ do? Cut me up? Hang my head on the river bed?” The minuscule slob flew out of his lips as overlapped laughter seemed to agree with his jape. Even though she had faced atrocious people like him, they had never failed at making her fall into a pit of disgust. His hair speckled with mud, the ageing white poked through the dirt. Sweat cascaded down his forehead as heat rays lingered in his clothing. Which is why the vast area had drips like paint puddle over his eyebrows. “Or are you gonna open up your legs for us?”

A force softly patted her shoulder as if a sign to stay down. She managed to stay calm. Biting down on her inner cheeks, the soft flesh withered in agony as they had no choice but to be her only stress-reliever. If only the atmosphere had reverted back to as it was before, no sword would’ve been poking anyone’s throat. The barman’s eyes popped as he watched the languid build-up of a brawl stir in the walls.

The words he had mumbled without a thought bounced off his head. Mothers fear if their child eva’ turns out like you. Your mother was clearly a smart woman to drop ya’ next to Bathmon River. A mass of fear wiggled down his throat. His eyes jumped from hers to the predator-like weapon that could easily kill him with a slight push. The blood in his vessels pumped with tremendous effort, his heart panicking at the tedious demand. Unbeknownst to him, the rapid heartbeat of his was not only banged against his ears but filled up the entire room. The heavy tide finally dissolved in his stomach.

“I’m not scared of ya!” Although he thought it would’ve sounded with authority and confidence, it came out as a reluctant cry from a child. As he gulped, the bulge in his throat grazed the fiery sword. His eyes shut tight, ready for his life to flash before him, his body shivered with electrifying fear. When the time had lingered longer and his heartbeat calmed down- his eyes languidly widened to small slits. His cheeks burned with a crimson blush. Even though a killer stood tall over him, with a ferocious sword in her hand, people seemed to just stare down as if their legs had been frozen. A reluctant attempt at his horrible idea seemed to backfire. The sloppy man pricked a laugh, hands drumming on his bloated stomach. With his head thrown back, his friends joined him, hesitantly lifting the weight up with amusement. Despite him being hairbreadth away from the weapon that bore stories of her infamous kills.

“There’s no need to. You better shut your mouth up or else I will do it. With every string of your awful fucking cloth, I will run it through the fat pig lips of yours and stitch it. I hope you don’t mind your lips connected to your filthy cock.”

Slashing her weapon to rest against her side, the grip on the man’s collar tightened as she tugged him towards her. Almost like a branch’s slap, his neck choked at the sudden hit. The hearty laughs that once filled with the room died. If he hadn’t felt the intimidating aura ride around her, he probably did feel the threatening narrow eyes she wore closed onto him. He hadn’t noticed the slight height difference. He shrunk into a minuscule ball.

The haze in her eyes was an unbreathable fog. If one had to ride through such a weather, it would be no surprise if they had ended up in a deep pit. The endless path and the suffocating air dragged his limp body across the track. It was entrancing. Almost as if a chain was wrapped around his waist, it softly dragged him towards what seemed to be the exit out of the thick mist. Customers watched the man’s knees shake like a pleading horse.

A husky cough pulled her from the trance. The haze cowered away as the man choked for air. Letting go off her clench on his shirt, no energy held his body high- the unorganized man sunk into the floor with a clash. Despite the terror she had set upon life, she was far more disappointed that she even was in a weak state. She let it got the best of her.

Clutters and mess rose. Shuffling of feet rubbed against the floor, worry stroke their faces as all of his companions approached the fallen man. Her jaw twitched. With no second thoughts, her legs were quick to move towards the mass of weapons. Ready to flee away from the tavern, the wearing rein that carved a mark in her hand begging to be in contact with the strap once again.

Her shoulders tensed, squaring up as if she was ready to pounce. It seemed like he was truly in need of someone to tie his lips. Even though his lungs were exerting all the energy it had, his mouth could not help but feel insatiable by the lack of words he had thrown towards her. He croaked out, “At least your brotha’ fell off that fucking bridge, how could we ever handle two freaks?” However, the only noise that replied his mocking was that of a crack, as if a crunching of leaves and a pile of twigs in an autumn day.

His friends watched with an ajar gaping mouth, as blood poured down his nostrils like a powerful waterfall. The already dirtied shirt now soaked with the iron liquid. Eyes swelled shut, the pain he pleaded to last a mere a second remained strong with an extension of lingering seconds. Pricks of thorn sunk into his tissues with an appalling slow speed. Although the agonizing pain rippled around his nose, his eyes that were glazed with tears shot open to see the woman who lived up to her name. Already on the floor with his back rubbing against the dust and dirt, he collected his thoughts and all he wanted to do was regain his sucked up energy to remind her of her place. He pushed his heavy body, shrinking away from her figure.

No noise or sound was heard. All heads snapped towards the only soft chuckle that stifled through his horrible attempt at tightening his lips. His accompany, prominently a bard, glared with humiliation and disbelief. It was no mystery that took longer than a second to realize who the amused man was. The milky hair, blazing amber eyes… Y/N tilted her head.

The less meaty man approached her, his reluctant hands not sure if it was wise of him to touch her. Even though he was hair’s breadth away from her, he could not help but feel small as he glanced at her eyes. All his confidence he mustered up was nowhere to be seen, “Would you like to sit and drink with m-us?” A gulp dipped down his throat. With no reply, she paced towards the Witcher.

Unsure if she had forgotten her swords, Jaskier stepped towards the shimmering blades when shivers ran up his spine at her low, raspy voice, “Leave it be.” By now the tavern was more tamed thanks to the absence of the ignorant people, a tiring task done by the owner of the tavern.

“I’ll just get a bottle.” Jaskier pointed towards the barman, his eyes desperate for Geralt to interrupt him. Even though he wiggled his fingers and was acting like an immature child, the pair seemed to be lost in their own thoughts. Giving up with a huff, he stomped towards the bar. A smile sported on the Witcher’s face.

Y/N pushed her shoulders back, she tugged the cloak which puddled around her neck. Finally, she could breathe at ease. Quirking an eyebrow at him, she inquired, “You find something amusing?”

“Indeed, I do.” His baritone voice crawled under her tissues.

#the witcher x reader #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia oneshots #geralt of rivia oneshot #geralt of rivia imagines #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #the witcher oneshots #the witcher oneshot #the witcher imagines #the witcher imagine

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tamoria · 3 years

Text

Prologue

The moon hung high above me, smiling as I tug my long woollen bratt tighter around me to banish the chill. Not long past high night. The stars dance mischievously between the clouds, teasing and playing as they do in the early spring. I count to five in my head and pull myself up to check what I had been left. My boots tossed haphazardly beside an old stump with two long dowels

leaning against it and the two bowls I had molded last night sitting atop it. I had shaped the bowls in a rush after forgetting about them in my preparations and cooked them quickly in the fire. Between the two bowls, on a long leaf lies a small crystal shard from the sea to the west, it is shy and quiet. Even in the shadow light it glows, bright and beautiful. I dare not touch it for fear of my dirt-streaked hands smudging or tarnishing it. It seems embarrassed by this. The slender stone cutting knife to the otherside of the bowls is less bright, in fact it is almost cruel as it glares at me, convinced I will not succeed before dawn breaks and we will all be here again another year. I go over the order in my head, “fire, tea, rain, wind, sleep.” I will not forget this time as I did under the same spring moon once before.

I turn a full circle, slowly, squinting through the dark to see anything else that does not belong. I don’t know this glade, so we must be far from home. The trees here - tall and wide, know not my name and I know not theirs. They are strong, sweet pine. Less familiar to me than the great oaks. The small woven pouch I was looking for catches my eye. It is nested in the ivy at the base of a large tree that towers over us. I place a hand on the trunk and thank it quietly before carefully detangling the pouch from it’s sleeping spot. My fingers find the lump of knot and pick it apart, pulling the rough strands of twine through each other. I upturn the pouch and count the small smooth pebbles as they tumble out. They are all luminous white and shining in the swaying shadows. I count them again - it is unlike Tadg to make mistakes and six pebbles is clearly a mistake. Surely I’m just tired, maybe the light is playing with me. Once more I count, as I place them back in their pouch.

“One for the Sea,

Two for the Sun,

One for the Sky,

The last for Falling.”

There, in the middle of my hand, the sixth pebble sits lost. I hold it against my palm with two fingers as I organise myself, tying the small pouch to my belt by the dangling twine and gathering the cutting knife.

I make my way around the circle of the glade, collecting small clippings of plants, leaves and delicate flowers. Turning into the centre at the end of a full loop and placing them on the stump. Then again around the perimeter of the glade, each time moving a couple of steps further from the middle of the clearing. I continue this until the stump is covered with small offerings and then walk one final loop, this time laying my hand on a stone, tree or bush every few paces and speaking words of protection and containment to mark my perimeter.

This time last year I was halfway to finished, believing I had the know;edge I needed to make things up as I went along. I was so used to the praise Tadg gave my work that I had forgotten the inherent order that makes these things safe, and in some ways, possible at all. I had been impulsive, I had riffed and played with the way and was sorely reprimanded for it. Leading to me being back in a glade late at night, trying to prove myself. This time, however, I will not be so arrogant as to assume my breath and my hands and my voice are no more than vessels. I will be gentle and reverend this time.

With a small fire kindled, I gather a handful of pine needles and crush them in my hands before placing them in the second of my bowls, the first already full to the brim with water from the small stream on the edge of the glade. Once boiled I split the water and pine needles equally between the two bowls and allow the tea to brew. All the while singing The Song of Danu under my breath. I drink the sweet pine tea quickly, glad for the comforting warmth of it and place the bowl on top of the other to form a spherical shape. Around this, a small altar, the long spindly sticks covered in leaves lean against the bowl to form a frame, flower crowns of various sizes and shapes surround them, and intricately designed patterns made up of small leaves spread out and away from the structure.

I allow the quiet of the night to seep in and fill all the gaps, I breathe with the trees and the ancestors as I speak my dedication to Danu and her children. I rest then, finding the moss bed I had woken in only hours before and once again pulling my bratt closely around me.

When I wake the second time a thin line of orange graces the horizon and the sky above has paled from deep inky blue to a lighter ceruleum.

The clearing shines with the life of a new day, all my small offerings from the night before now covered in a thin layer of dew. I do not have long this morning so I check on things quickly. My altar to danu still stands and after a small amount of tweaking , the leaves on the spindle sticks and the small flowers - wilted now, are back to their former glory, fresh in the morning light. I peek through the pyramid structure to see my bowls and find them just as they should be, collapsed into each other and locked in embrace. My work won’t be so hard this morning, I think with a flutter and a small smile.

My sitting circle is formed, four of my pebbles laid, two by my each knee as I sit cross-legged on two behind me, where my head and shoulders would rest if I were lying down. I start, feeling my breath move me first, once my mind is clear, I begin to feel myself lift away and hold amongst the trees above me. I tie the long strands of wind around my fingers and push the clouds around until I am happy with the dark grey cloud that sits directly above. A small amount of encouragement is all that is needed to coax the rain down. It is - a first, a light drizzle, unsure if falling is the right thing to do. It mists my face and the young leaves around me. I laugh at it’s caution and turn my face up to it, welcoming the cool droplets. This merely encourages the rain to gain confidence and before long I am dancing amongst the points of the young spruce and the rain is falling with abandon - free and delighted. The relief washes over me and I hear the faint rolling of thunder far in the distance. I have done well, I think, Tadg will be proud and I will soon have my own title as Master Druid. I allow the rain to continue a few minutes longer, reveling in my success before I call it to cease and feel the forest floor beneath my heavy boots once more.

Immediately I go to tweak my altar, making sure it is still worthy of the great Mother Goddess’ approval. I feel my stomach pang with hunger and for the first time, remember how long it’s been since I last ate. It has been at least four days - it was before my time in the dark caves, though not long before. When I am satisfied that the altar is again the proud and beautiful thing I made the night before, I continue my work.

Again I lower myself into myself into the sitting circle and try to leave behind thoughts of dinner and the cold and my title. This time I bring the breeze to me, plucking strands from the air. I gather a dozen and then walk around the clearing, tying them loosely to a twig here and there, small stones, leaves and tufts of grass. I return to the middle and with arms outstretched at my sides I turn slowly, sending the wisps tearing from their tetherings and spinning around the clearing. The wind darts around trees, dipping under low branches and prancing along the stream. My fingers reach out then to play with the breeze, pulling and twisting it. I tangle it up in my hands and watch it unfurl itself as it dances around wildly.

It starts to pick up speed, pulling other wisps in as it speeds around. Safe enough, the barrier of containment around the clearing can hold much more than a strong breeze. It is just growing faster than I expected. As I think this, I begin to get worried, repeating it again to convince myself. It dances around me, whipping my thick bratt and leaving me goose bumped and shivering. I turn quickly, throwing my hands out as the wind takes my altar in its wake, leaves scatter, wheeling through the air. All around, there are branches falling from high in the trees, crashing loudly on the soft forest floor. Once more I lower myself in the sitting circle, close my eyes and desperately beg my mind to clear. I need to catch the wind before it escapes. Building always and nearing the teachta mountains.

I focus on the perimeter, fighting hard to hold it steady. There are at least three villages between here and the sea, where the wind can blow itself out. There is no explanation for this small wisp becoming so powerful. It has been years since I last lost control of anything. I try to put my doubts aside, knowing the only way I can smother the storm is to empty my mind. I pray for strength.

Snap.

I hear the perimeter break loudly and refuse to open my eyes, knowing that will make it real. If I open my eyes I will have destroyed at least three villages, probably more. So I sit, heart thumping, with my eyes tightly shut. It is quiet before I open them, jumping when I see Tadg standing there, all bone, hunched and withering - more so than last time I saw him somehow. “Lets go,” he says, glancing behind.

Over his hunched shoulders I see the downed trees, the three men acting as Tadg’s guards - wind beaten and dishevelled, and the sparking in the air. The containment wall is fully disintegrated. Tangled strips of it lie where they fell, still marking a circle, inside of which is damaged but standing. Beyond, the forest is not far from flattened. I gaze in shock, trying to understand.

“You have sat here long enough Feada. Lets go. Now.” His words are firm and so are his bony fingers digging into my arm as he pulls me up.

I try to explain, or maybe just defend myself, “It sped up so quickly! It was only a minute or two before it was too strong to control. I don’t under-”

Tadg interrupts me, voice calm and smooth, “they have come.”

The simple statement feels like a hand around my throat. I stop asking questions and instead give him a knowing and concerned look as I pass his shoulder and walk to the men behind, my breath trapping.

#I kinda hate it #but i sick of looking at it #so; here you go

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