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darklordofthesimp · 2 years

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Verity (Din Djarin x Reader)

On a remote planet, while chasing a bounty, you encountered a rare plant that produces the infamous "truth pollen". Not being able to lie is dangerous when you're in love with your Mandalorian employer.

PART 2

Requested by Anon:

#47: I forget how to speak whenever you’re around and it’s embarrassing.

A/N: OKAY LISTEN, my last 2 fics have gotten such bad engagement I don't have high hopes for this BUT if this goes good, would you want to see something where DIN is affected by the pollen?

Category: Mutual Pining - Involuntary Confession - Fluff - Angst If You Squint

Warnings: Swearing

You should have listened.

Though, to be fair, the Mandalorian had never explicitly told you to stay in the Crest- you saw it more as a strong suggestion. It was a new planet, some dirt ball in the middle of Wild Space that had been long forgotten by any traders or travelers. The bounty hunter had warned you to stay inside and you'd simply waved him off.

Now, laid out flat on your back, you thought he might have been right.

Your body protested against any attempt to get up and you opted to just still for a long, long moment. In your defense, you had just violently tumbled down into a rock bed.

You hissed, suddenly aware of the blood trickling down your cheek.

You thought you might have broken a bone or two, but with the 'wiggle' check you were pleasantly surprised to find nothing had snapped. Nothing other than your pride, that is.

Lush greenery pressed against your skin, soft leaves, and gentle blades of grass lathered into the landscape. The air was crisp, and as you started to regain control of your senses you realized you'd fallen into a small clearing. It was relatively shaded, with tall trees leaning over to shelter the small oasis you'd stumbled upon.

Forcing yourself up onto your elbows, your eyes widened as you drank in the sight before you. There were flowers everywhere.

The flora was a color you couldn't even begin to comprehend, a mixture of violet that made you think of the most tempting and delightful sins.

Where were you?

But you couldn't focus on the logistics of your situation, not when there was a wonder of nature less than two feet away. Where had these flowers come from? The teardrop petals fluttered lightly in the breeze, and suddenly your mind was consumed by the thought of their texture. You wondered if they felt like silk...

If you could just touch them to test your theory, you could be on your merry way. You were sure of it.

Pain and injury were forgotten as you stood to your feet slowly, feeling as though you were having an out-of-body experience when you approached the plant. It was almost glowing up close and you couldn't understand how this shit hole of a planet could have created something so ethereal.

You reached for the flower eagerly, awaiting the soft touch of those pretty petals.

By the time you realized something was wrong, it was too late.

___

You wheezed, rubbing the length of your sleeve against your nose. The trek back had been far longer than you'd anticipated and you knew Mando was going to be pissed.

Coincidentally, the hunter appeared to be on his way out as you approached, equipped with all of his "work" apparatus. Had he not found the bounty yet?

"Where have you been?"

His words were sharp and you winced, slowing your pace to a sheepish shuffle. When he promptly unslung his rifle, you realized that he wasn't going hunting, he was about to launch a one-man rescue party.

You couldn't tell him the truth, he would follow you around for months if you did. Constantly supervising you for the sake of your safety.

But instead of the excuses you had prepared, when you opened your mouth to respond, different words formed on your tongue.

"I was exploring and got lost."

Your jaws snapped shut instantly and you slapped a hand over your lips. Why had you just said that?

The Mandalorian's shoulders raised, instantly irritated with how blatantly you blew off his advice. You hadn't even sounded guilty, just factual.

"I told you that was a bad idea," he griped, turning on his heel. "What if something had happened? What if you'd gotten hurt and I couldn't find you in time?"

He stomped back into the ship and you followed guiltily behind, trailing him to the armory as he begun to offload his weapons. There was pressure in your chest at his words and at first glance, you thought it was just remorse for making him worry. When your mouth opened to respond where you hadn't wanted to, you realized it was something else.

"I did get hurt."

You stumbled back, throwing both hands over your mouth. The Mandalorian stiffened, softly placing the items in his hand against the table.

"Where?"

Again, the words fell from your lips involuntarily, "Everywhere. I fell into a rock bed."

He said nothing as he turned around, watching your panic increase when you couldn't gain control over your own tongue.

"I can't stop talking," you gasped, terror crawling along the length of your chest until it lodged itself firmly in your throat. "I don't want to say any of this."

Before you noticed he'd even moved, the bounty hunter filled your vision, gently ushering you to a cushioned bench you had created. He set you down, before crouching in front of you.

"Did you touch any plants you've never seen before?" While the words sounded calm, you could hear the underlying dread in his tone.

"Yes." You let loose a soft sob.

"What color?"

"Violet."

"Shit," he hissed.

When your chest began to heave with trepid breaths, Mando raised his hands quickly.

"No, no, it's okay. Don't panic, it won't hurt you," he soothed, nodding softly. "The effects will wear off soon."

You shook your head, dropping your face into the palms of your hands. You should have just listened to him from the beginning, he wasn't talking out of his ass, the hunter was only trying to help you. Why did you insist on fighting him every damned step of the way?

"What did I touch?" You asked, the tone hopeless even when muffled by your palms.

There was a short silence, as though Mando was bracing himself. "It's a rare flower. The pollen..."

He trailed off and you lifted your face from where you hid. The hunter was still crouched in front of you, mere inches from your body, watching you as he deliberated his next words. He was so close that it set your heart rocketing against your rib cage, and you wondered what he looked like when he was in deep thought.

Pressure built in your chest. You ground your teeth shut.

"It acts as a truth serum," he finished solemnly. "You can't lie."

The ground felt like it had been ripped out from underneath you. This was bad, this was so fucking bad.

"No," you rasped, shaking your head adamantly. "No, no, this isn't good."

The Mandalorian leaned back on his haunches, hands resting together against his thighs. You were sure that you looked crazy, telling the truth wasn't exactly a curse.

"I'm not going to take advantage of this," the hunter murmured, and if you hadn't known any better, you would have thought that he sounded almost hurt. "I won't ask questions you don't want to answer."

"You won't need to," you moaned miserably, throwing your head right back into your hands.

"What are you so afraid of?" Mando stretched his hand towards you and you were touched by his concern. Gloved fingers rested gently against your shoulders, sending your heart into overdrive.

"You!" The word was barely a gasp but it was as if they had burned him. He snatched his arm away and leaned back, watching you in what you could only imagine was shock and hurt. It was as if you had slapped him.

Your heart squeezed in your chest and before you'd realized what you were doing you gripped his hand tightly. "Not like that. I trust you, I trust you with everything in me."

There was a soft silence as he tilted his visor to watch where your fingers interlocked. You thought he might have been uncomfortable for a second there until he gave them a gentle squeeze. He was warm despite the leather, and at that moment you would have killed to touch his skin, vulnerable and human and real.

"Most open you've ever been," Mando snorted but it wasn't humorous, just quiet. "And it's when you're forced to."

Pressure built in your chest once again, and you tried to grit your teeth and cage the incoming confession. No matter how hard you tried, your mouth had a mind of its own.

"I forget how to speak whenever you’re around and it’s embarrassing," you rasped. "I don't hide away on purpose."

Red hot humiliation flared beneath your skin, heating your body up in a crashing wave. You felt your cheeks burn, sweat collecting against the back of your neck.

Tears gathered in your eyes and you were grateful that you had turned your face away from him earlier.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked gently after a long silence.

You wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

"No," you said quickly, throwing your hands to your mouth in an attempt to muffle the next words. "If you leave I'll never forget how embarrassing this was and will think that you're disgusted with me for the rest of our time together."

You tried to gesture for him to go, shooing him away with your hands despite what you had just admitted. For the first time ever, the Mandalorian looked so torn that he just trembled.

You could see the shake in his fingers, the way his body leaned this way, and then that.

"I can't walk away if it means that you'd be living like..." He trailed off, breathing heavily from beneath the beskar. "Why would you ever disgust me?"

You sobbed.

Throwing yourself to your feet, you tried to scramble away before your mouth moved. Anything to stop what would have been a sledgehammer to this delicate friendship you had fallen into. True to character, you just tripped over yourself, falling backward into the wall roughly.

The hunter shot to his feet, immediately trying to provide aid that you desperately swatted away.

"Because I love you."

The words fell from your lips, like a weeping whimper, but they might as well have been shouted from the top of the Crest. The way he froze in front of you showed you exactly how badly this was going to go.

"You're a Mandalorian, you're my employer, I'm nothing you've ever wanted and I love you. You'll find me disgusting for ruining this over stupid feelings and for looking at what I could never deserve."

This time, there was no silence like you thought there would be. You thought he would have turned on his heel and left, or yelled, or just left you there to simmer in silence as he stared.

Instead, he gripped your shoulders tightly.

"You think you don't deserve me?" He hissed.

You stared at him through teary lashes, bewildered. The word formed and you didn't fight it, too shocked to even comprehend what was happening.

"Yes."

He watched you for a long moment, fingers tightening against your skin. You wondered what was going through his head, where his emotions were leading him. You prayed that he wouldn't grow disgusted the longer he thought about it. You begged any deity that you could think of that he would move on and forget that this disaster had happened.

But the Mandalorian was anything but predictable.

"You love me?" His voice was hard.

Your lips trembled. "Yes."

"For how long?"

"When you saved the village in Sorgan. I knew then."

When he didn't respond, the adrenaline in your system left you shaking. You hated this, you wanted to die, you wanted to be anywhere other than in his arms.

"You said you wouldn't take advantage of this," you whispered, leaning away from him. "You said you wouldn't ask..."

The hunter's fingers softened against your skin, "you weren't going to tell me?"

You shook your head, "never."

Putting him in such an uncomfortable position was the last thing you had ever wanted for him. He was constantly under stress, rarely did anything go right for him and you were convinced that the poor man had the worst luck in the world. You didn't want to add to that, you wanted to be helpful, not a burden.

Especially not like this.

"I'm not taking advantage of you," he murmured, finally. "I just need to know if you're telling the truth."

You scoffed, casting your gaze to the side. "I can't lie."

"Now," Mando said softly, the intimate whisper trailing along the length of your skin. "I'm trying to find the courage."

You blinked up at him as he leaned you back against the durasteel wall, heart tripping in your chest. What was happening?

His hand slowly raised from your shoulder, to brush against your cheek, to then rest against your eyes. Darkness flooded your vision, and your other senses went into overdrive. You could smell the smokey scent of the hunter before you, and distantly you wondered how he always managed to smell of woodfire and spice.

There was a soft, metallic hiss from somewhere above you and you flinched.

"Can I kiss you?"

You choked on your own breath, chest heaving from the weight of his words. That simple, small question. For once, throughout this whole ordeal, you were glad that your mouth moved before you could direct it.

"You can."

There was a soft huff from above you.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

This time, it was you and not the pollen that answered.

"Yes."

And when he smiled this time, it was against your lips.

While the Mandalorian smelt of fire, battle, and blood, Din Djarin tasted sweet.

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #star wars #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #baby yoda #grogu #pedro pascal

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

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Otherworldly Kings and Queens (10/10) Peter version

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Female!Reader/ Peter Pevensie x Female!Reader Warnings: emotional ending but happy! Word Count: 2.8k Part Summary: As the Pevensies time in Narnia comes to an end, Y/N must decide. There isn’t just one question that needs to be answered... who will Y/N pick? Will Y/N really consider staying in Narnia? A/N: And with that one of my first series comes to an end... it’s both exciting yet sad at the same time as I’ve had so much fun writing it. Thank you to everyone who’s followed the series! I appreciate you so much! SOOOO emotional! I never thought of writing both versions of the ending BUT I’m so glad I did so thank you to whoever suggested it!!! I envisioned Y/N picking Caspian, but this ending is gold :)

Masterlist

The whole Talmarine kingdom, as well as Narnians, have gathered in the courtyard for the ceremony. Aslan has made the decision to allow some Talmarines to leave Narnia if they choose. Apparently, Talmarines are like the Pevensies and myself I suppose, they're from our world. They traveled to Narnia centuries ago by accident and made a home here. Caspian speaks to his people with such ease as he encourages them to consider the offer. He's a natural-born leader. He's meant to be Narnia's future king. As I come to this conclusion, I take Peter's hand beside me. He glances down at me, having not expected the action. Nonetheless, he gives my hand a comforting squeeze and offers me a gentle smile of reassurance.

"Are you alright?" He questions in a whisper with a tad of worry resting on his brows.

"I just... when we got here I would've done anything to go back home. Now that the war is over and Miraz is gone, I've come to realize I'm quite fond of Narnia," I explain my predicament.

Peter chuckles lightly, pleased with the news considering how much he adores this place. "I always hoped you would. Whenever I told you about Narnia, I wished I could've shown it to you. I'm glad you came with us this time. Now you understand," he reasons.

General Glozelle and Miraz's wife, Prunaprismia, volunteer first with her baby. In honor of their bravery, Aslan blesses them with a good future. The pair walk toward the tree that Aslan has made part in half. Everyone watches in awe the General and former Queen disappear in a blink. My lips part in astonishment. I don't think I'll ever get used to magic. Gasps fall across the crowd and people begin to question Aslan's intentions. They fear this is all a trick.

Peter slips his hand from mine and steps forward. "We'll go," he volunteers us.

"We Edmund frowns, sharing my expression.

"Wait, what?" I express rather rashly.

In my defense, it's justified. Peter never asked for my opinion. He's deciding for me. Aslan... Aslan made it out to seem as though I had a choice, as though we all would have at least some more time here. "Come on. Our time's up," Peter tells me solemnly, but an ounce of hope lingers in his tone. "After all... we're not really needed here anymore," he determines while approaching Caspian to offer him his sword.

"I will look after it until you return," Caspian assures Peter confidently.

"I'm afraid that's just it," Susan interjects beside me. "We're not coming back."

"We're not?" Lucy pouts with concern.

"You two are," Peter predicts, glancing between Aslan and his youngest sister. "At least, I think he means you two."

"But why?" Lucy struggles to comprehend the purpose behind this news, as do I. "Did they do something wrong?"

"Quite the opposite, Dear One," Aslan voices. "Your brother and sister have learned what they can from this world. Now it's time for them to live on their own." Aslan comforts each of us with his wisdom.

Though, frankly, I'm finding it hard to swallow this harsh pill. But all things have their time.

"It's all right, Lu," Peter tries to ease Lucy's mind as he takes her hand gently. "It's not how I thought it would be...but it's all right."

Peter directs his attention to me and holds out his free hand for me to take. "One day you'll see, too. Come on."

He offers me a weak smile, not one that shows genuine happiness, but contentment. I ease my hand out to glide it into his, but something stops me. A feeling in my chest telling me not to settle as Peter as with his decision. I shift my head toward Aslan to ask the lion directly. "And what about me?"

My patience is growing thin. All this back-and-forth yet I haven't heard a concrete answer about where I belong. Aslan is constantly confusing me with his tricky wording. One minute he makes me believe that finding him wasn't my purpose for coming here and the next he's telling Peter that his time here is over. I belong where Peter is, I always have. If his purpose is in our world... then so is mine. Then, does that mean I'm like Edmund and Lucy? Am I destined to return in the future? How far in the future? Narnian time is different from ours, who knows how many years will pass before we're here again. It could be another thousand years in Narnian time. "Your course is not as clear-cut as theirs," Aslan states with uncertainty. "You still have much to learn from here, as do Edmund and Lucy. Going back means one day, you will return, as will they."

"So I am to go back," I hope to clarify.

All I want is an answer, to know my path.

"Returning to your world will bring you back here someday, yes, that is a course you may take," Aslan nods calmly.

So, after all this time, after all the back-and-forth, Aslan is guiding me toward Peter. He made it sound as though I had to make this life-altering decision. The first few days we were here, I would've given anything to go back home. I never wanted to be in Narnia. Now that I have my chance to get out and everyone is rushing me out the door, I'm digging my heels into the dirt begging for a moment's pause. All this time Aslan has been pressing me to make a decision, why do I feel as though he's making it for me? It's suffocating.

I glance between Aslan and Peter nervously. Aslan wears his usual gentle and patient smile while Peter is confused with furrowed brows. His hand remains out to me, lingering for mine to join it. I whip my head around and my eyes land on Caspian. His features fall as he comes to terms with my departure. I approach the future King solemnly. All I can keep thinking is 'more time! More time! If only we had more time!' I can't visualize who the 'we' is exactly. When I say it, all I can think of is the riverbank in the forest. I see myself lying beside the river in the plush green, flower-covered, grass. The warmth of the golden sun scatters over my skin. I spent time with both Peter and Caspian there. What I would give to return to those moments. Whether I'm hoping it's with Peter or Caspian, I can't see. Each of them matters to me, on what level I can't decide.

"I'm glad I came," I tell Caspian whole-heartedly.

"I wish we had more time together," the prince sighs, taking my hands in his.

His hands are warm. Mine are always cold. I never noticed that before now. I'll miss that.

"I'm not entirely sure I belong here," I confess timidly, still unsure of my thoughts and Aslan's advice.

"Why not?" Caspian frowns as if my words are nonsense.

"I’m not of this world and if the Pevensies are 1,300 years older than you so am I," I shrug with a hint of a smile as I comprehend how old I am. I'm not a Narnian or a monarch of Narnia. Aslan said I was meant to come here with the Pevensies, but our time is up and I've yet to find this purpose he speaks so much about.

Caspian expresses a faint smile, amused by my humor, but too solemn to fully be happy. Both of us pull the other into an embrace. The words continue to repeat in my mind. 'More time! More time! If only we had more time!' I feel as though I'm standing on the edge of the cliff overlooking a deep trench and I'm stuck wondering whether I should jump. Caspian and I part from one another. It's painful. I feel safe with him, more secure and understood than I ever have before. I don't want to let go, but at the same time, I'm yearning to cling to Peter.

Peter meets me halfway and wraps an arm around my waist, leading me toward the tree trunk. The Pevenesies begin toward the tree as well, ready to go on.

"It’ll be okay," Peter whispers in my ear as he brings me into his side.

I feel safe here with him. Peter is home for me. For years, he's been my rock, my strength. Through the war, losing my dad, through all the bad, Peter has been my guiding light.

He continues to comfort me. "Everything will be as if we-"

"Peter, no wait... " I shake my head as my steps come to a halt.

It takes a second for Peter to react. He comes to a halt a few steps ahead of me. Turning over his shoulder, he gives me a confused look.

"I can’t go back," I voice, but my volume is weak. "At least not yet... not until I know that I've done what I must do."

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"I... I think I’m still needed here..." I stammer with uncertainty. "At least... At least that’s what I think Aslan means. He speaks like a fortune teller and it’s confusing!"

Peter switches his now crossed expression from me to the lion. "Aslan, is that true?"

"Y/N’s future is not set in stone as your four’s is in history. She has known that she has to decide her course of action for some time. The clock is dwindling," Aslan explains steadily, looking to me to decide.

Lucy steps forward from behind Peter. "You mean you have to stay here?"

"It means I have a choice," I do my best to word it less harshly to the little one. "Staying here or coming again later. I’m assuming the next time will be with you and Edmund. Either way, I’m needed here. I just know it." I try to explain, but how do I explain a feeling?

"Neither choice is wrong," Aslan injects as he moves to stand beside Peter and me. "Going back to your world would mean you would return with Edmund and Lucy. After that, your life will be as you've always envisioned with who you envisioned. Staying here would be as you've envisioned as well," Aslan explains, giving me a knowing look. "You will prosper in both worlds, in whichever you decide."

Does Aslan know that I haven't been able to stop thinking about the riverbank? Is that what he's referring to? Does he mean that if I stay in Narnia I'll be with Caspian? If I return to England Peter and I will be together? Choosing a world also means choosing between Peter and Caspian.

"But why?" Lucy pouts.

"I don’t know," I struggle to say as my eyes begin to well up.

"I do," Peter voices.

"What?" I mutter.

"I didn’t understand it at first, but Aslan told me something earlier today. He said, ‘as much as we wish we could, sometimes we can’t choose who we love, the world chooses for us.’ You’re needed here. This is why you were brought here with us. When Caspian called for us with the horn, he unknowingly was calling to you as well."

I switch my gaze between Caspian and Peter frantically. Both of them meet my gaze with eagerness, wondering what I'll choose, as does everyone else.

"So I will return with Lucy and Edmund in the future if I go home?" I clarify with Aslan, hoping for a direct answer.

"Yes, if that's what you decide, Child," he nods.

I press my lips together as my throat becomes strained from holding back tears. "Peter I- "

"It’s okay," he assures me as his hand glides up to cup my cheek. "Everything is as it should be."

I can tell he's doing his best to stay strong for my sake. Tears flow from his eyes silently and the sight pierces my heart.

"If this is how it should be, why does it hurt so much?" I mutter, my tone shaky with emotion.

Peter shakes his head as his eyes become glossy. "It won’t forever. We’ll both grow and find that which we were destined to. I always thought we would find that together," he chuckles softly, it's bitter-sweet. "But this is right," he speaks with certainty.

"But I’ll never see you again," I comprehend the harsh reality of it all. "I... I don't want that! I can't imagine my life without you in it! You've always been there and I... haven't I lost enough people already? How many more goodbyes must I say?"

"We mustn’t think like that. One day we'll be together again!" Peter thinks optimistically.

This isn't fair. None of this is fair! In choosing Narnia, in choosing a different life for myself, I'm losing my best friend. I'm losing the one person who kept me going, who gave me a reason to survive.

"I love you," I cry.

Peter grins at my words, a faint and joyful chuckle escapes between his teeth. "And I’ve always loved you, perhaps I always will. We’ll never lose that, even across worlds."

I nod repeatedly, holding onto every syllable. I pray and hope, that he's right. Peter pulls me into his chest and I wrap my arms around him for dear life. I grip the fabric of his loose shirt in my fists. His hand cradles my head as he plants a kiss on my forehead.

Do the ones we love ever truly leave us? Is the memory of them strong enough to keep us going in their absence? I doubt a day will pass by where Peter doesn't cross my mind or any of the Pevensies for that matter.

Now that our time has officially run out, I say my goodbyes to each of the Pevensies. I'm not just saying goodbye to Peter's siblings, each of them has become family to me. Lucy and Susan cry with me as the three of us hug each other. Edmund does his best not to show emotion, but I can see behind his stone-hard expression that he's holding back. His tight embrace is enough evidence as well.

When the moment comes for the Pevensies to return to London, I hold onto Peter's hand as I approach the tree with them. His siblings walk a step ahead as Peter walks backward to face me. Until the last second, we hold on.

"Someday," I nod, as though I'm making a promise that one day we'll see each other again.

He nods, agreeing to the vow. "Someday."

Our hands begin to slip as Peter backs away toward the cliff between the tree halves and my breath hitches in my throat. I stare into his sea-glass eyes and the seconds travel rapidly by. In a blink, he's gone, disappeared from my world.

A gasp escapes my lips at the sight. My arm falls to my side as tears glide down my cheeks. My heart sinks as reality hits me that I'll never see Peter ever again as long as we're alive. An arm wraps around my waist, supporting me. Caspian appears in my peripheral vision as my eyes remain locked on the open space beneath the tree.

"It’ll be okay," he reassures me as he rubs his hand up and down my back.

I swallow hard, my face becomes blank other than the tears falling down my cheeks. A deep sense of emptiness consumes me inch by inch starting from my heart.

"As long as you've done what's right by your conscious and your heart, you could never be wrong, Dear One," Aslan advises smoothly.

I stare ahead at the tree, waiting for Peter to reappear though I know he'll never come. Have I done wrong? If this is what's meant to happen, why does it hurt so much? This is agony.

Caspian tries to usher me away, "come, Y/N, we can go back to-"

"No!" I blurt out suddenly, making him halt.

My eyes search the tree in a panic and then I turn to Caspian. "I'm sorry... I... I can't do this!"

The prince's features fall as he processes my words. "But..."

"I'm so sorry Caspian," I cry. "I love Narnia and I'm so glad that we've met but..." I glance over at the empty space where Peter last stood with a deep sigh. "I don't think I can be truly happy here if a piece of me is elsewhere."

Caspian swallows hard, clenching his jaw to withhold his emotions. "You love him," he determines.

Knowing that in choosing Peter I'm hurting Caspian is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Yet, it wasn't until Peter vanished from my sight did I come to realize that the answer to my million questions was right there in front of me this whole time. It's Peter, it's always been, Peter.

I lean up and plant a kiss on Caspian's lips, one last kiss. He deepens the kiss and it's a bitter-sweet farewell. When we part, he wraps his arms around me in an embrace. I wrap my arms around him tightly, holding onto the hope that Aslan is right and one day we may see each other again.

"One day," I mutter against his chest. "One day I hope we're reunited."

Caspian parts from me and expresses a weak smile as he brushes his hand against my cheek, wiping away the remaining tears. "I'll count the days until your return."

“I pray it’s soon,” I confess. “I fear I’ll miss you more than I can bare.”

In choosing Peter, I lose Caspian. In choosing Caspian, I lose Peter. Neither choice is painless.

I glance toward the lion, "so am I right about this?"

I can’t leave without being sure.

"You were never wrong," he smiles.

I switch my gaze to Trumpkin, the crowd of Narnians, and Telemarines. All of them await my next move. Swiftly, I plant a kiss on Caspian's cheek, preparing to rush after the Pevensies. I turn toward the tree with a smile, knowing in my heart this is right. I turn my back to the tree and begin to back away from Caspian as Peter did to me. I hold onto the Prince's hand until the last moment. Our fingertips barely touching.

"Goodbye for now," I phrase lightheartedly with a soft grin.

"Farewell-"

Caspian's words are cut short as my vision changes from the courtyard to a chaotic train station. I'm standing in the middle of the platform as people move about me. The peace of the courtyard is replaced with deafening noise. I blink rapidly, piecing together what's happened. I glance down at my clothes and I'm in my school uniform again. My hair wisps around as a train flies through the station. I'm back, I'm back in London! Peter. I need to find him!

Frantically, I shift between people, rushing through the station to find the Pevensies. They have no idea I'm here. It'll be like a needle in a haystack with everyone dressed in the same uniforms. Perhaps they're where we left for Narnia, by the bench! As the idea pops into my mind, I begin to run. I scan each head, each face, all looking for one. Then, in a flash, I spot the blonde speckled hair I've been longing to see. Peter paces in front of the bench, his eyes on the floor and his hand rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks are red and his eyes bloodshot. His sisters and brother are huddled together by the bench, likely discussing their departure and my decision to stay. Little do they know...

"Peter!" I shout impulsively.

Peter whips his head around, searching the crowd for me. His glossy eyes are wide with surprise and his lips are parted. The other Pevensie children appear just as shocked. Then, he finds me. Amongst the crowd and chaos, his sea-glass eyes that I've been longing to see again since the moment he left have found me.

"Y/N?" He mouths breathlessly.

Peter begins to shove through the crowd, leaving his stunned siblings behind. I glide between bodies, excusing myself along the way. The seconds feel like hours as the distance dwindles but feels miles long. All I keep thinking is 'get to him! Get to him!' Before, I envisioned the riverbank. I longed for it. I couldn't see who was with me there in my visions until now, Peter. We were at peace, happy even. I believed the whole reason behind my want for those moments was to stay in Narnia. Yet, I've come to realize that it doesn't matter where I am, as long as it's with Peter.

In an instant, Peter's arms wrap around me and he frantically cradles my head, pressing it to his chest for dear life. He parts from me, cupping my face with astonishment.

He shouts, "what are you-"

Ignoring his words, I press my lips to his. Since the moment he disappeared all I wanted was to be with him again. At first, he's taken aback by my action, but after a second he comes to kiss me back. He cups my cheek and deepens the kiss. It’s salty, a mixture our of tears coming together. The world around us goes silent and nothing else matters. Despite everything, the war, the pain, the loss, this is where I'm meant to be. We part only to catch our breath.

"You came back?" He pants, lingering inches from my face. Now, tears of joy fall from his eyes. "But you're needed in Narnia! Aslan even said-"

"Destiny is a funny thing I've come to realize," I chuckle lightly with joy. "Everyone always speaks of it as though it must be an action or place. What if it's a person?"

The edge of his lips curl upward with pleasure, yet his brows scrunch together in confusion. "What happened to someday? You had the chance to be Queen! Grow old in Narnia! Caspian..."

"I was standing there, milliseconds after you left and I realized that none of it made any sense!" I explain breathlessly. "My world wouldn't be my world without you in it. Life wouldn't be worth living."

He gleams, overjoyed at my words. "So it's me?!"

"Oh silly boy, it's always been you," I giggle lightheartedly.

Peter releases a breathless laugh, emotional yet over the moon. He nods and swiftly brings his lips back to mine, holding my face in his hands longingly. No matter the world or time, I will follow him anywhere.

It's him. It's always been, Peter. Now, we have forever.

_____________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rangergranger11 @hyperactiveravenclaw @whiskeywinter89 @i-hav-no-life @damalseer

#narnia imagine #narnia #susan pevensie #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #peter #caspian x reader #prince caspian #prince capsian x reader #lucy pevensie

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itsmoonphobic · 3 years

Text

Dream SMP characters and my interpretation of them:

-Techno: The smell of Dirt and soil,blood,wine and old books. Silk pillowcases,golden jewelry,mosaics,stained fingertips, grand staircases,scented candles,storyteller,lazy smiles, secretive,slow dancing,sad resting face,elegant language,cold weather,confident,doubts himself,philosophy, messy braids,glowdust flakes, poetry,graceful movements,neat and cursive handwriting, greek mythology, oriental music,pale skin,libraries,sarcasm, long-lasting friendships,quotes,frosted windows,layering clothes, know-it-all,rude but endearing,pile of papers,cherry blossoms,muted colors,overthinks everything,devotion,logical thinking,insomniac,scattered mind,castle walls,laid back,tired eyes,long debates,show over tell,lingering touches,rulebreaker, dirty palms,old movies freezing feet,old habits,late nights studying,early riser,skips meals,eye bags,tea with milk,velvet jackets,dimly lit by streetlights,ancient wood floors,flowy curtains,art museums, gravely morning voice,echos in the middle of nowhere,sleepy whispers,nostalgia everywhere,red lipstick stains,loves animal more than people,calm and quiet, healing stones,parked car conversations,sharp jaw,obsessed with memes,violins,doves, doves,floats instead of walks,unbroken promises,twisting and winding hair around fingers,nail biting, repeating phrases,mist secret scars,rumors,always wearing earphones,metaphorical, emotions fragile as a flower, speaks with his eyes,fluttery eyelashes,dog lover,forehead kisses,calligraphy,pretty knives,cares too much,lopsided grins,messy desks,talks for hours no,rolling his eyes all the time,powerful strides,wants to conquer the world,slender hands,good grades, dusty book covers,wax stamped envelopes,vintage mirrors

-Phil: The smell of cold air,pine trees and sandalwood.Dead birds and mothballs,stops on the sidewalk to make sure nobody is left behind,morning person,herbal teas,crows,eats breakfast outside,constellations,family portraits on walls, chirping and whistling,crime documentaries,cool father figure, graveyards,weeping angels,meteor shower,many friends but only a single close one,contagious laugh,fragile teacups,fog, early mornings,fuzzy blankets,springs of thyme,bare feet, empty streets,rosemary stems,flickering lanterns,burnt wood bowls,feather collector,antique silverware,a sky full of stars, skylights,torn pages,overstuffed bookshelves,makes you feel comfortable whenever you talk to him,organized,full of ideas, believes in magic,gives the best advice,lost in his own way, warm hugs,scrapbooks and bullet journals,old cars,soft features,daydreaming,bright eyes,getting lost in the woods,moonlight,self knitted sweaters, stargazing on tailgates,the universe,hand in hand with wandering hearts, garage sales,questioning life but feeling at peace,attic bedrooms and haylofts,pursuing science and desiring art, photo albums,hopeless romantic,dark chocolate,open windows and quirky morning rituals,actually knows what brunch is, succulents,a kind-hearted loner,free-spirit,plaid button-ups, always ready to let you rant,abandons projects quickly, complicated past,bold moves,goes with the flow,aims for things that seem unachievable,lives in extremes,knowing smiles,constantly busy with something new,soft touches,love at first sight,naps alot,subsequent tea stains,sparkly eyes, abandoned barns,handwritten notes,feather quills,fascination with the sky,whispering secrets to the wind,great with kids, takes a backpack everywhere,hugs trees,big winter coats,road trips,knows tons of medical info,bites his nails,comforting presence,lost souls,city lights from a high rise

-Wilbur: The smell of fire,smoke,caramel and coffee. Stands up for people who can't for themselves,emotional wreck,loves his family too much but still yells at them,soft turtlenecks,sits in different spots every time he eats dinner,chipped nailpolish, songwriter,probably depressed,wakes up in the middle of the night to write down random thoughts,heartbroken teenager songs,dark psychology and deep meanings,globes and maps, wants to travel and make lots of memories,curls of steam, earbuds in,spattered ink,good singer,keeps to himself,old music and dusty vinyl,the type of person that you could stare at for hours,loud laugh,ride or die,dreams about his future, believes in fresh starts and new beginnings, messy and tangled hair,summer nights,soft features,deep thinker and dimples, having crushes,musicals and theater, half finished diaries and laptop stickers,mixtapes,quirky love notes, secretly kinda insane,always ready for coffee,thrift shops, beachy waves, bonfires,probably drives too fast,cutoff jeans, cream and sugar,nude colors,always creating new problems for himself, fights for equality,long debates and tired eyes, tapping a rhythm and humming quietly,spends all his time on social media,beanie galore,trench coats,foggy glasses,cozy sweaters, dancing around his room to the Beatles,looking out the window when the sun is setting,birkenstocks,guitar strumming on a warm summer evening,bells and chimes,subtle sadness, the feeling of diving into a deep pool,perfect proportions,too many playlists,holding hands,pretty boy,sew on patches and bomber jackets,candid photos,warm sun on bare skin,dancing silhouettes on the sunsets,beach walks at midnight,messy but cozy room,different mood every minute,singing his favorite song at the top of his lungs,sharp grins,haunted houses, paranormal stuff,late night snack runs with friends,explores creeks and lakes,double checks everything he does,walking through hot sand,backyard campfires,acoustic songs,photo booths,train platforms at night,s'mores,sun bleached arbors

-Tommy: The smell of plastic,fresh cut grass and musk. Does the bare minimum at School,unless genuinely interested in a topic,doodles on the side of his paper,movie marathons,empty coca cola bottles everywhere,rope swings,glossy nailpolish,lots of energy,life of the party, kidcore ,can always make you laugh,loves photography,eyestrain and bright colors,bruised knees and untied shoelaces,paperballs in class,brand new red converse,denim jackets,pins and clips,chalk drawings in the middle of the road,every text contains emojis, garden sprinklers,graffiti,wreck this journal,vibrant dyed hair, scribbles and highlighter pens,carnivals,involed in many things, watermelon flavored anything,loves to climb trees,screaming on playgrounds,oversized t-shirts,stained glass windows, anklets,skateboards and hula hoops,milkshakes on the front porch,social butterfly,always in a hurry,pinkie promises,tangled headphones,melted crayons and gummy bears,bean bags and hummingbirds,spinning around till he gets dizzy,chaotic and crazy yet so fun to be around,rushing into things too quickly, roller coasters and derbies,doesn't get knocked back by criticism,cans of fizzy drinks and neon lights,skips school,tye dye shirts and nitendo games,impulse and class clown,sticks stickers on stranger's things,pickpockets his close friends,has to carry a walkie-talkie around with him at all times,sleepovers and sneaking out through windows,pockets full of change and random buttons,stands out in crowds and makes friends easily, pretends to be fearless but is scared of the littlest things,trips and rips his jeans daily,uno cards,social butterfly,music discs, fights with his family but would actually kill for them,broken handwriting,flannels and jerseys around his waist

-Tubbo: The smell of honey,fresh bread and citrus. Lowkey soft, hugging a teddy bear,pressed flowers,eats alot of bread,big hoodies,fairy lights and blanket forts,prank calls while holding in your laughter,beeswax candles,sidewalk dandelions,gentle cuddles on the couch,pastel yellow and cute doodles,flower crowns and diasy chains,plays the ukulele,fascinated by bees and supports local coffee shops,outdoorsy sunshine addict, sparklers and iced lemonade,festivals with fireworks and fireflies in mason jars,homework done as soon as its assigned, watercolor paintings,giggling uncontrollably,long hugs and lazy cartoon afternoons,park dates and forehead kisses,cutting pants into shorts,messy wild hair and pear lollipops,has tiny random braids decorated with golden yarn,hearing the crinkle of leaves underfoot,suprise piggy back rides,adult swim shows and lip gloss stains,being goofy without meaning to,bounces in his step and stops to pet stray animals,baked bread and washi tape bracelets,bike rides and summer picnics,rolling down a hill in the spring and bringing home grass stains on his jeans, waving at someone across a crowded room,spontaneous hang outs and self made clay rings,sitting in the warm sunlit grass on early spring mornings,rock painting and hiding them for other people to find,picking apples from trees but needing to be held up in order to reach one

-Ranboo: The smell of peppermint tea,denim and rain. Is there for everyone but never themselves,regrets things they said but can never find the nerves to apologize,clumps of mascara and winged eyeliner,writes down every tiny thing in notebooks, loves children and their friends,forgetting that they already grabbed a waterbottle,drawing on condensation windows,rainy days and puddles,always on the edge of a breakdown,elevator music and long limbs,old tape recordings and cassettes,moss covered ruins and greenhouses,wanting to be in multiple places at the same time,different colored socks,long hugs and head pats,reading under the covers,collages and spray paint,record players and walks alone through the woods,loves playing by creeks and collecting stones,always wondering and worrying about things they shouldn't,vivid dreams and leather jackets, silver necklaces and piercings,snoozing their alarm clock, seeing the moon in the early morning,blurry photographs and windswept hair,downpours and comfortable silence,wrapping gifts and handing them over with shaking hands,sitting on a rooftop and spontaneous plans,lofi sounds and long train roads,deja vu moments,randomly dissapears and sipping tea, cold concrete and city parks,tickets and brochures from places they visited,dusty parchment and desperately trying to be a good person,wikipedia articles and lace-up boots,often loses track of time while talking to people they love,sings to the radio and avoids conflict if possible,can't sit still for five minutes, perpetually in an emo phase and knows more than they let on, hawaiian shirts,henna tattoos and sparkling water,sleeping in complete darkness and the relief of falling into bed,midnight thunderstorms and anticipation for the coming day,lucky charms and the sound of rain hitting the windows

-Dream: The smell of apples,eucalyptus,vanilla and green tea. Freckles and smiley faces,glow sticks and wrinkled linen, probably a really good singer,wild laughter and jellyfish, popular,tanned skin and cruising with the top down,doesn't take shit from anyone,analytical and self assured,beachy waves and dreamy sunsets,running barefoot,likes being active and on the go at all times,sassy and dramatic as fuck,dream catchers and hammocks,glow in the dark stickers on his phonecase, feisty and a sense of danger,brought home stray cats when he was a child,falling in love with strangers,waking up early and continue laying on the bed,golden hours and 4pm naps,soft aching hands burried in messy hair,center of attention,static and heavy breathing,old percy jackson books under the bed, throwing pebbles at the closed windows of his friends' room, retro diners at 2am,adrenaline junkie and nighttime thriver,will go insane if cooped up indoors for too long,deadlines till last minute,oversleeping and coming home past midnight,naturally a really good surfer,hugs from behind and neck kisses,checking the fridge at 1am,ice cream in bed and cat cuddles,always picks up over facetime

Might make more parts for some of the other guys :)

#mcyt #minecraft youtubers #minecraft #tommyinnit #dreamsmp #wilbursoot #philza #mcytblr #sbi #technoblade #dream #dreamwastaken #ranboo #tubbo #moon is back with all of his awesomeness losers #long post

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peachyydesires · 4 years

Text

The YTTD Cast Playing Minecraft

genre: crack / platonic relationships

warnings: n/a

bloopers: 🌳 [tba]

a/n: my good friend, alyson, and i wrote this as a collab together! she has an ao3 account that she recently started for both danganronpa and your turn to die! if you like either fandom, i 110% suggest to go check out her work/subscribe to her! she’s an amazing person so go show her some love if you can!! i recruited her a bit last minute and we spent all day yesterday writing, but this was definitely one of the most enjoyable things to write so far!

Keiji Shinogi (Aka The 1st Boomer):

❏ This man has BARELY any idea how to play Minecraft at first. Hell, he even had to get Gin to help him install it on his computer. He has to learn how to even use the basic controls, and he’s constantly asking the others what certain keys do (does he do this just to be annoying? The world may never know).

❏ Once he gets the hang of the game, things go a little bit smoother, but not completely. While he may have quickly learned all of the buttons, there’s still a lot more to Minecraft such as PVP, building, mining, the bosses, crafting, etc, and that takes him an eternity to learn (don’t even get me STARTED on the Nether and the End). Without his other friends, he’d probably be stuck in the middle of the night with zero protection or tools on him to fight the mobs that spawn.

❏ He’s mostly just there for the laughs; while he’ll try to stay out of the way from his friends, he’ll show up at the most erratic times. He’ll either immediately teleport himself to someone in the middle of fighting a group of mobs or invade someone’s house and steal their stuff just for fun.

❏ While he’s not as much of a prankster as Shin, he’ll still do some of the most random actions ever, even if it’s not to annoy others. He’ll place down a random door in the middle of a room and just leave it there, or make several holes in the ground while trying to punch some grass to clear it out. When the group is on a voice call, 90% of the call is just the others yelling at Keiji to stop planting trees on their farms.

❏ He’s not one to explore, but wherever his friends are, he is. He’ll tag along with them nearly anywhere, whether they’re doing a dangerous excursion to the End or traveling across the sea, he’ll always be tagging along. He honestly doesn’t know the point of the game, but again, he’s just there for the laughs.

Joe Tazuna (Aka The Brave One):

❏ Joe has played Minecraft before, but he doesn’t care about building a pretty mansion or planting flowers. This man will live in a tiny dirt hut and beat the game. The one thing that Joe always plans on doing whenever he starts a new world is to get a dog and name them “Sven” after he watched one of his favorite YouTuber’s playthroughs one night instead of studying. He would do anything to save his dog, even if it means sacrificing his friends’ lives.

❏ When he plays on multiplayer servers, he always insists on getting the supplies and food for everyone. It’s pretty much all he does. He isn’t afraid of caves or mobs, and he won’t hesitate to run towards a creeper to stab it repeatedly. He is, however, terrified of skeletons and endermen since they always kill him. Once, he dropped down into a cave after spotting iron on the surface, only to be ambushed by a horde of skeletons. No one came to help him.

❏ He tends to forget about his hunger level until he actually starts taking damage. The same thing goes with drowning. It doesn’t help that he’s constantly sprinting wherever he goes. Because of this, he’s constantly falling into caves, ravines, and even little holes filled with water, yet no one ever helps him get out. They usually leave him behind, or they think that he’s simply lost.

❏ His girlfriend, Ryoko, hasn’t yet tried Minecraft, despite him begging for her to play with him 24/7. Although constructing a fancy house isn’t his cup of tea, he’ll do anything to play with Ryoko. He even once asked Sara to help him practice with his Minecraft dates. He needed help with his wording of asking Ryoko if he could put his bed next to hers, so Sara volunteered to assist him.

❏ Joe’s always falling into lava as well, and he gets very frustrated when it happens. Whenever he falls, he starts screaming into his mic while on voice calls (he doesn’t curse because he’s cool like that), yet still, no one comes to help him. Sara only says “teleport to me!” but it’s always too late. Keiji once offered to help him, but Joe declined, saying he didn’t trust or like him since he’s creepy towards Sara.

Q-Taro Burgerberg (Aka A Minecraft Veteran):

❏ Besides Joe and Gin, Q-Taro surprisingly knows the most about Minecraft. He used to play it a lot when he was younger before he started getting into baseball, so he knows the basics such as crafting and mining. Despite not picking up a controller in years, he still knows all of the mechanics the game has to offer as not much has changed when it comes to the controls.

❏ What HAS changed, however, is literally everything else in the game. All of the major updates over the years have nearly changed the game completely, including the Nether, the End, the villages, even the ocean became useful. He doesn’t realize this at first until he goes into the Nether and sees that it’s completely changed (He’ll stand there for a moment, wondering why the caves haven't been updated but the Nether of all things has).

❏ He’ll have to completely relearn the game, having Gin teach him all of the new mechanics such as elytras, banners, shields, etc, and all of the new structures including ruined portals, pillager towers, shipwrecks, etc. He’s always confused on call, constantly asking what a certain block is or yelling into his mic, “Uhh, I found something!!”

❏ One thing about Q-Taro is that he loves to mine. It’s the one useful thing that hasn’t changed all too much, so he can still help out and gather ores for everyone else. Although, he has to have the best armor out of the rest of the group or he might just commit theft. When he learns about Netherite, however, he refuses to wear it; he doesn’t want to admit that diamond isn’t the best in the game anymore, although no matter how many enchantments he puts on it, his armor will never be as good as netherite.

❏ In all honesty, he forgets the majority of the information that Gin tells him. Even after all of the warnings that Gin gives him to ‘not punch everything he sees’, he still punches everything he sees. He’ll run up to something new and whisper vaguely into the mic, “I’m gonna punch it.” And before Gin can scream for him not to, he’ll give the new block or mob a nice good smack. Beehives, llamas, polar bears, and pandas are prime causes of Q-Taro’s many deaths in the game. Regarding the new mobs, he encounters hostile ones a lot. He’ll often forget to sleep (despite everyone else yelling at him to go to bed) when he’s down in the caves, and he’ll emerge from his hole at night only to see 5 different phantoms flying in the air trying to murder him.

Alice Yabusame (Aka The Sailor):

❏ Alice is a rather frustrated player. Nothing ever goes his way when he plays, and he’s constantly cursing on voice calls. His sister, Reko, sometimes kicks him from the calls to keep Kanna and Gin as innocent as possible (although they don’t really care, and Gin sometimes picks up on Alice’s bad behavior himself when he gets mad).

❏ Similar to Joe, he’s an explorer. He loves exploring the ocean (especially the water temples), but his cheerful vibe suddenly switches into a pure, satanic rage once he starts drowning. He gets too cocky sometimes, though. Once while he was looking for an End City in the End, he lost control of his Elytra and flew into the void, cursing and screaming in fury the entire way down. The same exact thing happens whenever he falls into lava and loses all of his belongings; if anyone were to make fun of him when he died, he would craft a sword and kill them without any hesitation out of pure spite.

❏ He would try building a house next to Reko to get a bit closer with her, but once, he went out mining, and when he came back, his house was on fire. He then discovered that Shin was the one who set his house ablaze, so whenever Alice sees the troller, he grabs a stone sword and attempts to kill him (since he’s poor), but Shin is almost always in creative mode, which angers him more and only causes him to scream swear words into his microphone. He begs Sara, the one who created the server, to ban him, but Sara’s excuse is always, “he’s just having fun, which is the whole point of this server.”

❏ Since his house is always being destroyed, he usually makes small bases inside of caves or mountains to avoid Shin, but somehow, the troller always finds them and burns them down or blows them up, so he’s constantly on the run from him. He also does stuff alone since he doesn’t have any friends on the server (besides Nao who sometimes gives him food and supplies).

❏ Due to having to relocate nearly every time he joins the server, he rarely keeps chests on him. He has nowhere to store the treasures that he often finds in shipwrecks, sea temples, etc so whenever he runs out of inventory space he gives his materials away as gifts to his other friends, especially to Reko. Despite always giving out free resources and ores, nearly everyone in the server finds him odd, especially when he’s quiet for one moment only to be throwing a tantrum the next on the voice calls.

Shin Tsukimi (Aka The Troller):

❏ It’s no big surprise that Shin is just as chaotic as he is in-game, if not more, than IRL. Despite being over 20, he often lurks around on the Minecraft forums, always learning new hacks and ways to troll the others in the shared server. For some reason, everyone has server operator on the server, so Shin’s able to switch between Creative and Survival as he pleases, although he rarely goes into Survival.

❏ His only goal in the server is to create mayhem and confusion rather than to actually be productive; he’s always quiet on voice calls (except when he giggles loudly while he’s blowing something up or creeping behind someone), listening in on the other conversations so he knows who he can terrorize next.

❏ Since he’s in Creative, the minute he joined the game he automatically spawned himself netherite armor and tools while everyone else was running off to go trample the forests for wood. He builds a secret hut, making sure no one else could find it (in the side of a mountain, underwater in the sand using a conduit, really anywhere he can hide). He has chests full of TnT, flint and steel, potions, mob spawn eggs, and redstone in case someone forces him into survival.

❏ He’s played a prank on nearly everyone in the server; his favorite target is Alice, as he rages the hardest and tries to murder him despite him always being in Creative. He constantly will throw down an invisibility potion and follow Alice into a cave whenever he goes on a mining trip, waiting until he’s right in front of a conveniently placed lava pool before pushing him in. He’s always heard giggling in the background during voice calls while Alice screams out strings of curses and vows of revenge, which are never followed through.

❏ Sometimes if he’s really in the mood for some chaos he’ll switch into Survival and taunt Alice on the voice call, daring him to come and catch him and murder him now that he has a health bar. This immediately catches Alice’s attention and he literally drops everything he’s about to do just to partake in the wild goose chase that Shin ends up leading him on. He gets close a couple times, but Shin always stands still for a moment before teleporting away to someone like Kanna (“Thanks Kanna!” “SHIN GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE YOU COWARD-”)

Gin Ibushi (Aka The Kid Leader):

❏ As the youngest in the group, Gin obviously is the Minecraft pro compared to everyone else. It’s one of the many games that he constantly plays when he’s not playing with his toys, and it’s a good escape outlet for him. He’s been through nearly every Minecraft update, always mastering the new skills such as flying, potion-making, and new PvP tactics as soon as the game updates.

❏ He was the original one that suggested that the rest of the group start a Minecraft server with him, although Sara was the one that managed to start it up. As soon as he spawns in, Gin’s already off doing who-knows-what to try and speedrun the game, but nearly every 10 minutes he has to stop what he’s doing and help the others out of their confusion. He doesn’t care too much about having a fancy house or not, so he usually just builds a sufficient starter house (which is actually like, 3 stories) in between his adventures.

❏ Somehow, after the first day or so, he already has the strongest armor and tools in the game: netherite. While Shin cheated and used Creative, Gin managed to find the rarest ore in the game (probably after pulling an all-nighter or two admittedly). He’s very insistent on fighting the Ender Dragon early, but everyone else is either off doing their own thing or still on iron armor and afraid of even going into the Nether despite Gin insisting he’ll ‘carry’ everyone.

❏ Gin is always the one to lead excursions off into the other dimensions. He’s very eager to finish the game (despite having done so dozens of times), and he’s always pressuring/convincing the others to go out and explore. He knows everything about the varying structures and bosses, from the Pillgar Towers to the Ocean Monuments and the Wither to the Ravager(s).

❏ Surprisingly, he does die quite a lot. Despite having played for years on end, he still makes careless mistakes even when he isn’t being trolled by Shin; he’s fallen into lava pits countless times and died to the occasional skeleton even with his netherite armor (sometimes he forgets to put it on as he leaves it on an armor stand at home so it doesn’t break). One time he was looking for a Woodland Mansion using an Elytra, following a map while flying over several different biomes at once without a second glance as he was focused on the chords displayed on the screen. When he finally realized he was about to fly right into a mountain, it was too late as he smacked right into the wall and fell to his death even after trying to put down a water bucket to save himself.

Kai Satou (Aka The Quiet Fighter):

❏ Kai hates to admit it, but he’s actually quite a fan of video games, especially Minecraft, considering he played it a bit as a kid. The moment he spawns into the map, he gets wood for a crafting table and supplies for himself, Sara, and sometimes Q-Taro. He’s usually pretty quiet on voice calls since he doesn’t really want to bother anyone, and he logs on sometimes on his own to build a fancy wood house or to get some extra supplies. Once, he logged on and saw that his house was on fire with Shin standing by it, saying taunting things in chat just to piss the loner off. Kai didn’t really care, though, since his houses don’t take him very long to build. Shin is annoyed by this, but still, he just goes after Alice instead.

❏ Similar to Joe, he’s always out hunting for food or seeds. Every time he plays, Kai starts a farm by a river, pond, or even near the ocean. Whenever someone walks on their/his own crops, Kai silently rages inside his head, but he never tells them anything.

❏ He usually goes on mining trips by himself, and he isn’t afraid of mobs or hostile surroundings. Unless Gin is off helping the others, Kai is always the first one to build a Nether portal or travel to the End.

❏ Whenever he plays, he always gets a cat or two from either the jungle or a nearby village. He likes to give them fish, and he takes his precious pets on his less-dangerous adventures. Once when he logged onto Minecraft, he saw that one of his cats was gone. He looked around until he found Shin beating his helpless bundle of joy with a stick until it died. Kai didn’t say anything to him, but he was furious on the inside. He later blew up Shin’s house with TNT after finding his hidden shack, and being an expert with laptops/computers himself, he also got Shin temporarily banned from the server, making Alice exceptionally happy.

❏ Sometimes, Kai invites Q-Taro to go on mining or exploring trips with him, and the athlete gladly accepts. Kai tells him about all the new updates that occurred over the years, even though Q-Taro never really pays attention. He’s pretty quiet whenever he talks on voice calls, so Q-Taro is always shouting for him to speak up.

Kazumi Mishima (Aka The 2nd Boomer):

❏ Mishima had never even heard of Minecraft until Nao brought it up to him one day in class. When Sara made the server for all of them to play in, he jumps into the server wearing nothing but a Steve skin, but Nao quickly helps him change it by making him a skin of his own image. Surprisingly, he got used to the controls of the game rather quickly.

❏ He wouldn’t really know what to do, and he would find Nao doing everything for him, including building his houses and getting him food and ore. He would make a lot of silly mistakes, such as mining gold with a stone pickaxe, eating raw meat, digging straight down, and ignoring fall damage. Mishima isn’t really bothered whenever a hostile mob suddenly appears either and tries to attack him.

❏ If Mishima ever stumbled upon a village, he would clap his hands in joy. He loves villagers and trading, and would even kidnap some of them via boats to experiment and test what they could do at home. Some of the others are a bit creeped out by his fascination, but Nao and Gin find it to be quite entertaining.

❏ Despite being a polite, smart teacher in person, his online persona is the exact opposite. He’s always barging into people’s homes and examining their shelters, sometimes stealing a bit of their stuff while quietly giggling on the voice call. However, he once accidentally killed one of Kanna’s parrots, and he was extremely apologetic about his mistake. He even went out in the jungle just to get her a new one despite her constantly reassuring him that it was fine.

❏ Mishima’s favorite mob would definitely be a cow. He doesn’t really understand why, but he loves their patterns and design. He refuses to kill or eat them, but he’s always on board with the idea of capturing them and bringing them home. If he ever encounters a mineshaft, he’s scurrying around the place, trying to find a name tag for his precious cows.

Kanna Kizuchi (Aka The One Who’s Scared of Everything):

❏ Even though she’s rather young, Kanna has strayed away from video games for a long time. Sure, she’s heard of Minecraft, but does that mean she’s ever played it? No. But she had watched several Minecraft playthroughs on YouTube before, so she was somewhat prepared when she spawned in with everyone else. She knew the basic controls and learned pretty quickly the other mechanics and new features the game had to offer.

❏ She thought Minecraft was a rather tranquil game, and she loved all of the details and peaceful mobs that spawned around her. She loves the flowers and trees the most, constantly picking flowers and exploring the grassland excitedly on the first day. She seems to be pretty good on her own until night comes along. After spending all day flower-picking, she doesn’t realize until she starts getting attacked by the hostile mobs that its night. She’s heard frantically screaming and panicking on the voice call before her death notice appears on screen to everyone else.

❏ After that night, Kanna is terrified of the night sequence(s). As soon as the sun starts to set over the horizon, she’s scurrying inside her house or spam-clicking her bed before she’s even allowed to sleep. Despite people like Gin always reassuring her that she has armor and a sword to defend herself with, she still refuses to go out at night no matter what. She’s also always pressuring everyone to go to bed to make sure she doesn’t have to sit through the night in her house and so that phantoms don’t spawn either (even though she’s never encountered them, she’s determined to keep it that way). She’ll be quiet one moment on the call before suddenly scolding everyone to get inside and go to bed so the server can time skip to day.

❏ Kanna doesn’t exactly realize that not every mob is either peaceful or hostile. While she isn’t like Q-Taro who’s always punching the neutral mobs, she’s still unaware of certain hostile variants such as the Killer Bunny. One day while Kanna was out picking flowers for the outside of her house, Shin got the grand idea to spawn a bunch of rabbits inside of her house along with a Killer Bunny or two that he hid in her storage room. When she came home, she was rather confused and could be heard quietly murmuring on the call, “Where did all these bunnies come from..?”. Her usual soft and melancholic whispers quickly turned to shrill shrieks as she entered her storage room to put away the flowers and the Killer Bunnies, which looked like regular rabbits to her, began attacking her. Shin obviously began bursting out laughing when his invisibility potion ran out and he was standing in the corner of Kanna’s house watching her run away from the mob(s). Although, after she began sobbing quietly on the call everyone went silent, including Shin for once (although some of her sobs were overexaggerated just so she could guilt Shin for traumatizing her) as he silently noted to never troll her again.

❏ It’s not very surprising that Kanna has at least a dozen pets. She has an entire pack of dogs (which she only managed to tame after stealing Gin’s collection of bones), several different colored cats, three parrots, two foxes, and even a panda bear she managed to kidnap using Mishima’s classic boat method. She has several rooms in her house that she built purely to keep her pets in, especially the untamable mobs like her foxes. She’s actually rather creative with her rooms, always adding in small details such as scratching posts for her cats and mini trees for her parrots. Her stable for her horses is also humongous and often mistaken for a second house when people run-up to her plot. She also somehow is an expert at coming up with names on the spot and she has a nametag on her 24/7 (admittedly, Shin always secretly restocks her name tag collection that she has in her chest since they’re rather rare and Kanna is too scared to go into dungeons herself).

Nao Egokoro (Aka The Helper):

❏ Nao has obviously played Minecraft before, and she was ecstatic when Sara announced that she would be making a server for all of them. She loves making Minecraft skins, and she made skins identical to how they really look for everyone on the server.

❏ She would totally use those Minecraft house building tutorials on YouTube and would help make houses for her friends if they were struggling. Nao would also get supplies for people (especially Alice since she pities him) out of the kindness of her heart. She really enjoys picking flowers with Kanna and getting cute pets/animals for everyone as well.

❏ However, Nao refuses to harm any animal/mob she finds. She sometimes goes on mining trips with her friends as well. Since she doesn’t want to lay a blood-thirsty finger on any of the animals, she begs Alice to go mining with her for materials since she knows he’s a good fighter, and he could fend off mobs for her as she mines. Alice obviously agrees since Nao has helped him out with Shin’s antics, and he would constantly jump up behind her to stab skeletons, zombies, creepers, and even endermen. They both left the cave even happier than before, and Alice didn’t curse once when he was mining with her.

❏ Nao invited Reko to live with her, and her friend happily agreed (Reko would do anything to move away from Alice). They would go on cute trips together, and Nao would build a stable for the horses that they found.

❏ She’s pretty nervous to play the game by herself, and she always waits until someone else is on the server with her (even Shin) before she does something a bit daring. Nao is always frightful when she has to travel to the Nether, and she has to beg people to go with her out of fear.

Sara Chidouin (Aka The “Mom” Friend):

❏ Although Gin was the one who suggested that they should make a server, Sara was the one who created it. She’s been playing Minecraft for a long time (especially with Joe) and was happy when Gin suggested the idea.

❏ Sara is technically considered the “mom” friend on the server, yet she won’t give a crap about her friends’ issues. If they fell into a hole or were being attacked by mobs, she wouldn’t help them. She would let them die with zero regrets regarding her actions, as she doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal since players can respawn.

❏ She likes to use Minecraft building tutorials, similar to Nao. She’s started to memorize building patterns, and she’s even gotten more comfortable with building in general. However, she doesn’t admit that she uses them, and she likes to flex her “skills” to the others (Shin always calls her out on this with a snicker or two, but he’s immediately silenced when Sara threatens to ban him from the server for terrorizing everyone else).

❏ Even though this has already been said, she still doesn’t give a crap about the others’ issues. Alice would always come to her and beg for Shin to be banned from the server, yet Sara would shrug it off and say that he’s having fun. Deep down, she would enjoy watching Shin torment and tease Alice, even if she was annoyed when he bothered her.

❏ Sara spends most of her time on the server with Joe, Keiji, and Nao, trying her best to avoid Kai, Alice, and Shin. She isn’t scared of doing things alone, such as mining or going to the Nether, but there is one thing that she is terrified of: zombies. She hates how much damage they can do, especially when they’re crowded together in a large horde. She has to beg her friends to kill them for her since she always fails. Joe always kills them for her and taunts her, saying that she owes him back. Keiji would accidentally hit Sara, so the two of them would just run away from the zombie. Nao, of course, wouldn’t want to hurt the zombie, so the two of them would also try their best to escape the annoying mob.

Reko Yabusame (Aka The Raider):

❏ Reko is somewhere in the middle of everyone; she used to play every now and then with Alice when they were kids, but the game has updated so much that she forgot half of the mechanics at first. As soon as she spawns in, the nostalgia hits her like a truck and everything comes rushing back to her. So while the others are stumbling around, voicing their confusion into their mics, Reko’s off along with Gin to go punch some trees down.

❏ Similar to her brother Alice, she gets easily pissed off at the game. While her rage isn’t on the same levels as him, it’s still quite strong. She’ll mutter curse words under her breath, barely audible so the kids in the call don’t hear her. The farthest she’s gone is thrown her controller across her room after falling into a lava pool in the Nether while bridging, and surprisingly it didn’t break. When it comes to her brother and his rage, she’ll often mutter, “Brb.” before leaving her room and storming into Alice’s, and often a loud slap is heard from Alice’s side with no further explanation to the others.

❏ When it comes to her brother, Reko is one of the few people who can tolerate him. She helps him at the start of the game despite her reluctant groans into the mic but ditches him as soon as Shin starts harassing him. It’s not uncommon for her to have to rescue Alice when he’s running back from mining and is being chased by a horde of mobs. She’ll leave her house with only an iron chest plate on and still somehow manage to murder all of the hostiles while Alice runs inside with half a heart. Besides Gin, she’s probably Alice’s mentor the majority of the time, always teaching him new features that he forgot like potion-making and archery. Whenever he dies (which is very often, unfortunately) she can be heard mumbling during Alice’s screams, “I told you…”

❏ Reko’s favorite part of the game is the Pillager raids. For some reason, she finds it an interesting challenge for her due to the different levels that raids can spawn in. She has several different strategies, some of which she made up at the last second. Some notable moments include dropping a block of TNT on a Ravager from her tower, spawning in a large group of Iron Golems at the start of the raid, and somehow shooting a Vex with a bow. She somehow hasn’t managed to die even once during the raids, and even Gin can’t believe her skill and sheer luck when it comes to fighting. She often tags along with him when he goes on adventures, especially when it involves the Pillagers (she finds them interesting, what can I say?). It’s no big surprise when she conquers a Wooden Mansion with ease one day while on a trip with Gin.

❏ After moving in with Nao, she got to teach her pink-haired friend a lot more about the game (especially since she was away from Alice now). She often encourages Nao to step out of her comfort zone and explore, as there’s a lot more to the game than just her house. She accompanies Nao on every mining trip (except for the few times that she chooses to go with Alice when Reko isn’t on) and even takes her out to the other dimensions. She’s always watching after Nao, always standing close to her with a netherite sword in hand to murder any mob that dare come near her. Reko even ends up teaching Nao how to defeat a raid (although she was the one carrying the entire time) and it’s not too surprising when Nao joins the excursion to the End to defeat the Ender Dragon.

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joontopia · 4 years

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Underneath the Ginkgo Tree | KNJ - Teaser

pairings: namjoon x female reader

rating: nsfw, 18+

genre: slight time travel!au, soulmate(if you squint)!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, influenced by the movie The Lake House

series warnings: angst, fluff, pining, language, mentions of death, major character death, talks of mental health, description of hospital scenes, description of car accidents (more warnings will come with each chapter)

teaser warnings: a couple of dashes of angst, slight pining, language? (did i write curse words in this? probably idk) mention of a break up, talks of feeling lost

teaser word count: 2.9k

series release: 1st qtr 2021

a/n: thank you to my twin and soulmate, @escapingreality4now for reading over this and fixing my mistakes. thank you for always being so enthusiastic about all of the random ideas that I have and start to work on (even when it brings me away from the one WIP you’ve been waiting on an update for hehehe). I love you!

The lone ginkgo tree stood out among the others that were outlining the small clearing. It looks absolutely beautiful the way the golden leaves contrast to the dark green around them. It seemed almost magical and you silently scold yourself for leaving your camera back at the studio. You walk across the grass clearing towards the ginkgo tree, examining it along the way. As you get closer, you notice carvings in the wide base of the tree in the shape of a small door, looking to be about a foot tall and half a foot wide.

“How cute,” you mutter to yourself, crouching down to examine the door further. Placing your backpack up against the tree, you notice a small hoop attached to the door, the opening of the ring just big enough for you to hook two fingers. You pull on the hoop, letting out a small gasp of excitement as the door gives way, revealing a hollow opening in the tree. You peak through the doorway, seeing nothing but dried leaves and small sticks. A slight breeze blows past you as you start to close the door, moving around the contents inside the hollowed out trunk. The door was almost half way closed when something caught your eye.

You peak back into the small room, noticing something long and light blue under the rearranged foliage. You look around the hollowed trunk, making sure there’s no hidden creature that could jump out and bite you. “Oh God, please don’t let there be a snake,” you think to yourself as you reach in to retrieve the mystery item. Snatching your arm back, you let out a small breath and chuckle at yourself for the small overreaction.

“An envelope?” you say out loud, looking at the newly retrieved item in your hand. You flip it over while observing it, noticing that it's sealed with nothing written on the front.

“I wonder if anything’s in it,” you mumble to yourself. You reposition yourself with your back up against the trunk of the tree, opening the envelope as you get settled. The paper tears easily and you guess that it must be old. Finally getting the envelope wide enough, you pull out a piece of paper, unfolding it carefully to make sure not to tear it. You were happy to see the writing was still legible with only some minor smudges and dirt marks spread across the page. Noticing a small date at the top, you squint as you bring the paper closer to read, only able to make out a faint 2018 as the rest of the date was ruined by the dirt.

“Two years ago… Wow.” You pull the paper back, taking a quick look around the small meadow before you start to read.

Dear future me,

I hope when you open this letter, it finds you well. Maybe you finally asked out that cute girl in your Art History class. Or maybe, at the very least, grew a pair to introduce yourself to her properly. Anyways, I’m not writing this to give you a hard time. We’re dealing with enough of that as it is. I’m just hoping that writing this will be something to help me gain some motivation. Give me a sense of purpose. Things just feel stagnant lately. I’m in the middle of my Senior year of university and have no idea what I’m going to do once I graduate. Everyone around me seems to have everything planned out and I’m just… here. I’m hoping when you finally read this again, you’ll have found your path. I promise to try my best on my end to get you there.

Starting with Art History girl. Hopefully she likes nature walks or hikes. I would love to take her to this old ginkgo tree for a picnic. So let’s work on step #1. Figure out how to simply walk up to her without falling flat on your face.

This is hopeless. Sending you luck and well wishes from the past. - Joon

You flip the page around to see if there was anything only to be met with a blank back.

“I wonder if he ever came back to read this,” you think out loud. Taking a look around the base of the tree, it seems like this place has been unbothered for quite some time. You assume so, anyways, especially with how covered the letter was when you found it. You continue to sit there against the tree, looking out into the small clearing. “Maybe I should write a letter back.”

You feel a slight gust of wind, closing your eyes as you appreciate the soft chill kiss your face and the beautiful sound of the rustling leaves of the ginkgo tree. “I’m guessing I should take that as a yes,” you say with a giggle. The tiny laugh is cut short as you let out a small scoff and shake your head.

“Great. I don’t know what's worse; me talking to myself or to the wind,” you grumble as you reach into your backpack, pulling out a notebook and pen, flipping to a blank page. “Okay, well here goes nothing.”

You sat at the base of the ginkgo tree writing out your letter back to this Joon. Constantly erasing and rewriting half of it, feeling like you were getting too deep and personal with your reply. It wasn’t until the third revision that you finally told yourself that it didn’t matter. No one was going to find it and read it anyways. Once complete, you reach back into your bag, pulling out a yellow envelope meant for holding photos. You check to make sure it’s empty before stuffing your letter inside and sealing it. You place the envelope inside the hollow base of the tree and close the door.

Standing up, you brush the leaves and dirt off your knees, backside, and hands. Not quite ready to leave your newly found secret hideaway, you look around the area, eyeing many rocks of different shapes and sizes. Most of them being just the right size for making a rock tower. You check your watch for the time, mentally calculating just how much time you have before you need to be back at the studio. “5 minutes until noon. Just one tower, one wish, and then I’ll head back to the real world. Sound good?” you said out loud, looking up at the ginkgo tree. A small breeze picks back up as you start to search for the perfect rocks. The wind softly blows through the leaves as if it were trying to give you a response.

The sun sits high in the sky as Namjoon treks down the now familiar path as the wind blows softly around him. The trees and bushes make the most comforting sounds as their branches and leaves rub together through the breeze. He looks down at the blue envelope in his hand before checking the time on his watch. 5 minutes until noon. He’s out here earlier than usual. A bittersweet surprise due to his class being canceled. The very class where he was finally going to talk to the pretty girl who sat by the window. Or at the very least, sit right next to her awkwardly while not saying anything at all. He hadn’t planned on writing another letter, but with the surge of motivation the last one had left him, he felt like it wouldn’t hurt to do it again.

Namjoon readjusts the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder as he enters the small hidden meadow. His eyes and lips turn up into a small smile as he looks at the lone ginkgo tree. “Hello, old friend,” he says as he approaches the base of the tree. The branches and leaves sway in the wind as if giving their own greeting back. Namjoon looks around at the empty meadow before placing his bag on the ground and kneeling before the small wooden door.

“I’m not here for long, friend,” he says as he looks up at the tree. “Just dropping off another.” Namjoon reaches for the small loop to open the door. Blue envelope in hand, he reaches in to place the letter inside, pausing when he sees something he didn't expect. There in the middle of the hollow trunk sat a clean, yellow envelope, seemingly untouched by the nature around it.

“I didn’t think anyone else knew about this place,” Namjoon mumbles to himself. He grabs the envelope from the opening, eyes going wide in a small moment of panic as he realizes his previous letter is no longer there. He lets out a low groan. “Oh no, someone read my letter.”

He hits his head with his palm, looking at the stranger’s envelope in his hand “Should I read it? They wouldn’t respond with their own letter just to laugh at me, right?” he thinks to himself. Namjoon looks around before adjusting himself to lean against the wide tree trunk. He opens the envelope, pulling out the letter. The faint scent of a female’s perfume follows, hitting Namjoon’s senses as he breathes it in. Appreciating the lovely scent while also finding it oddly familiar, but he just can’t place it. He takes a look at the letter and shrugs his shoulders. “Well I guess fair’s fair,” he mumbles to himself again as he begins to read the mystery letter.

Dear Joon,

I hope you don’t mind that I read your letter. It seemed to have been left untouched for sometime. I felt the least I could do is write back, even if you don’t ever return to this place. I would like to apologize in advance for using your letter as my own little outlet to vent. I’m sure there’s more interesting things you would like to know about the future if you were to ever find this. Not much has changed in the two years since your letter. The world is still a big mystery where people still feel lost. Myself included. I hope that’s not too discouraging. It’s normal to experience a sense of mispurpose and self doubt in college. Everyone feels lost at least once in their lives. Even if they felt like they had everything planned and figured out. The universe doesn’t make exceptions in that affair.

If you did figure a way out of your stump, let a girl know. I could use some words of wisdom myself. My boyfriend of almost two years broke up with me not too long ago. On White Day, if you can believe it. We started dating my senior year of university and I thought we were on the same page as far as our future together was concerned. But there I was, sitting on a bench in Yongsan Park, thinking I was about to be proposed to and end up getting dumped instead. He always talked about marriage, but I guess people tend to just change their minds.

But here’s the real kicker… my feeling of being lost isn’t from the heartbreak. I wish it were that simple. I'm feeling lost because when he broke up with me and ended almost two years of us, I didn’t feel sad. I felt relieved. Who in their right mind feels relief when the person they thought they were going to spend their life with breaks up with them? I don't know. Maybe love just isn't for me.

Anyways, that was a long drawn out way of saying, don’t place your sense of purpose on a relationship, let alone another person. People will only let you down. That being said, if Art History Girl doesn’t enjoy nature walks or picnics, she’s not the one. It sounds like the perfect date. - Y/N 2♥2♥

Namjoon reads the last couple of lines over again, smirking as he traces the small hearts you drew in place of the zeros of the year by your name. “Cute,” he mumbles to himself as he places your letter on the ground next to him, digging into his bag for his notebook and a pen. He quickly scribbles out a response, grabbing the blue envelope he brought and discarding his unread letter from it. Replacing it with the new one he just wrote. Namjoon sticks the now sealed envelope and letter into the holy trunk, closing the door before checking his watch again. Almost 12:35 PM.

“I guess I have time to eat lunch here.” Namjoon reaches back into his bag, pulling out the carefully wrapped sandwich his roommate made him this morning. After finishing his meal, he leans back against the tree, closing his eyes, enjoying the occasional breeze as the time passes. Deciding he spent enough time hiding from the real world, Namjoon stands from his spot against the tree, grabbing his bag in the process. He takes a quick glance at the small door, eyebrows furrowing as he does a double take, noticing the door is slightly ajar. “Didn’t I close this?” he thought to himself as he kneels back down in front of the door, opening it wider to see if anything was keeping it from closing all the way.

“What the hell?!” Namjoon exclaims as his eyes widen at the sight of another yellow envelope lying in the middle of the hollow trunk. His blue envelope, once again, nowhere to be seen.

You take a step back from your newly built structure, admiring your handiwork. You decided to build the little rock tower at the base of the tree, right in front of the little door. You tell yourself it’s to discourage any newcomers from opening the door, but you know it's just to discourage yourself from retrieving your letter.

“Okay, Y/N, now make a wish.” You close your eyes and bow your head by the rock tower. Searching your mind for the perfect wish, you finally land on the right words. Please let me be wrong about love. Please let it find me in this lifetime. You let out a deep breath as you open your eyes. Grabbing your bag off the ground, you take one more look up at the ginkgo tree before starting back towards the walking trail.

“I hope I’m able to find this place again,” you whisper to yourself as you take a few steps away from the tree. You’re only halfway across the small meadow when the sound of a snapping twig stops you in your track, causing you to turn around, looking for the source of the noise.

“Hello?” You call out as you look around the seemingly empty meadow. Finding nothing, you turn back around towards the walking trail. “The woods make noises, Y/N. Nothing to freak out about,” you mumble to yourself.

You barely take another step when you hear the sound of rocks falling behind you. You quickly turn around, hoping to catch whatever person or woodland creature that could be causing these disturbances only to find that you’re still alone in the meadow. You take a quick scan of the area before your eyes move straight to your rock tower at the base of the ginkgo tree. Or at least what used to be your rock tower. What resides there now is just a pile of rocks. The sight of your fallen tower alone isn’t enough to put you on edge. Rocks fall. You just didn’t expect to see the previously closed door at the base of the tree to now be wide open.

You take slow steps back towards the tree, scanning the surroundings again for anyone or anything hiding in the tree line. Telling yourself that it was just the wind as you make it back to the tree, you kneel down to close back the little door. Your movements halt when you sneak a peek inside the hollow trunk, your eyes landing on what should have been the yellow envelope you just left inside. Instead, in its place, you find another blue envelope. You snatch the envelope from the hollow trunk, tearing it open with so much force that you wouldn’t be surprised if you ripped the letter inside. You pulled the letter from the envelope and began to read.

Dear Y/N,

Thank you for writing me back. I’m going to be honest, I'm a little surprised to have found your letter. I didn’t think anyone else knew about this place, considering it's off a hidden path that's found off another hidden path. But I’m happy someone else gets to enjoy the beauty of this hidden gem of a meadow. Thank you for your kind words. It’s nice to know there are people out there who care enough to try and comfort a stranger. I’m sorry to read about your breakup. Those are never easy, regardless of the tenure of the relationship. I hope you don’t feel too troubled by your feelings around it. It could just be a blessing in disguise. Sometimes you have to close one door for another to open. I believe there is someone for everyone and they will find you when you least expect it. So if you return here to find this letter, don’t give up. Love will find you. I promise. - Joon

P.S. Thanks for the little 2020 joke. Got quite a chuckle out of that one. Maybe we’ll see each other at this ol’ ginkgo tree some day. You know, in the current year of 2018.

#bangtanuniversity #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #btsbookclub #bangtanedu #kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon imagine #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #fic; UTGT

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jrctolkien · 4 years

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don't blame me for falling, ii

part one

tom holland x reader

he comes back to town after years and years, and the press are just eating it up, and you’re falling too hard and too fast

an; this is a messy one cause an dElEted it so it's a lot more condensed and less,, tender because I was rage writing. ngl, the tom/yn interactions are iffy, but they improve a hecca lot more next chapter (lol remember when this was supposed to be a oneshot?)

harrison was the last person anybody thought would be getting married first.

his wedding was beautiful, all fancy and ornate and generally golden, much like the trophy wife curled around his side in an elegant slip of a dress. she looked gorgeous, not that you had expected any less from harrison. tonya, her name, was a brunette, skinny, high-earning model who was smart as whip and the dumbest person you had met in your whole life: she could crack out the answers to confusing math problems that left your mind boggling in under a minute, but she was constantly putting the fork in the microwave with the gravy she barely knew how to make. she was perfect for harrison and he knew it, beaming at her every second of every minute like she was a gift straight from god.

you supposed she was, in the grand scheme of things: harrison had been the butter in your sandwich for most of your life, sticking together all your favourite fillings and being the undertone that was such an amazing flavor that you just couldn't quite place until you switched butter brands. harrison was the guardian angel you never asked for but most definitely would die without.

you watched on with tearful eyes as he was bonded, heart and soul, to the love of his life, and you had watched on weeping when they took their first dance, the happiness radiating off them in a golden aura, warming the venue and inviting the summer sun out from behind the few clouds hung up in the sky. tonya's hair had almost looked blonde in the sunlight and you couldn't help the stray chuckle that escaped when the clumsy girl had stepped on harrison's foot for the third time. still, they swayed in time with the music, their warmth and love filling the suddenly suffocating tent.

you stepped outside, shooting a small smile to stacey, who shot you a teary grin. the sky was a beautiful blue and the grass was green, the kind of green that was so screwed into all your memories of summer as a child; lying on the grass that was a tad too long and tickled your cheeks and got caught up in your ears and your hair when you were six, a gappy grin on your face as you stared up at the slow moving clouds. climbing a tree in a game of hide and seek and falling out onto a patch of green, green grass and the green grass of the hospital gardens, which you hobbled about in with a nervous wreck of a tom looking on, feeling so, so guilty about you falling out a tree because of him. the grass that got caught up in your hair and left green stains on your favourite red dress when you were fourteen, lying all scrambled up in a big group of girls in an empty field as the sun set on you, drunken giggles warming up the chilly night.

"I love summer." you sighed to stacey, who nodded along with you, both knowing that in a couple weeks when the cute sun would turn stifling and would burn your skin, you'd both be complaining about how much you hated summer. you remember once, when you were fourteen and young, and had prayed to god in a french class to not let summer come too quickly that year, and had been positively distraught when it rained every day for two months.

stacey's elbow bumped against yours and she sighed wistfully, staring out at the long, sprawling fields filled with such green, green grass surrounding the farm harrison was gettiing married at. "summer is deceivingly beautiful." she muttered, and you noticed the sheen of sweat on her dark skin, and the iced water she was holding in one hand, and the tiny fan poking out the top of her dress, it's batteries sure to run out too soon for your friend.

"oh, but the grass." you said in an almost whine.

"oh, but the grass."

the two of you shared a small giggle before slinking back inside the huge white tent through a flap in it's exterior, bumping into a small group of guys who were almost impossible to get through.

"bloody hell," you muttered underneath your breath, "excuse me!"

and then all the love and warmth and golden hues that radiated off of harrison and tonya seeped into your soul through your skin as tom holland turned around, smile on his lips. he looked different since you had last seen him, not that it had been too difficult, with the hazy, dark images of him that had swirled through your head for weeks on end after he had up and left you for the second time in your life.

his skin was burning you through his dress shirt and his suit and you flinched away, stumbling back into stacey, whose arm wrapped around you waist and you could feel the intensity of her glare without even looking. "holland." she spat out, her voice hard and devoid of any emotion except to you, and you watched as all the anger and the hatred that was within her word traveled through the air before being engulfed in an overwhelmingly golden cloud of warmth and love.

"stace." he acknowledged and you realized that his eyes were calling for you and, of course, you were so weak, too weak, and the sea of browns and golden hues pulled you into your friend.

"hey tom." you greeted and you could almost imagine yourself spitting up your heart for him in that very moment, love sewn into each of it's chambers as you handed it over to the boy in front of you. "long time no see, eh?"

"which, personally," stacey's strong voice interjected over your shoulder, "I think was a pretty great deal! so, me and yn shall be leaving. goodbye forever!"

stacey turned on her heels -which was an impressive feat in itself, as they added an extra seven inches to her already long enough legs- and you held her hand as she dragged you away.

"wait!" tom's voice called out to you and you stopped almost immediately, blushing furiously and sending apologetic looks to a stumbling stacey before you peeked over your shoulder at tom.

"mhm?"

"are you going to harrison's thing later?" tom asked and you nodded, grin creeping onto your face. harrison's thing was, of course, a party that took the form of him not being there, on account of it being his wedding night. someone had planned the party and had said it was by harrison, who ever so graciously took the credit for it. "see you there, then." tom's voice was light and airy and something stacey was definitely going to laugh about for the next couple of months.

"I can't believe you!" said girl ranted as the two of you walked over to the drink station. "I had said 'goodbye forever', idiot! don’t you know what that means? no, obviously not if you turned around five seconds later to talk to the guy who left you to deal with an entire nation of fucking teenage girls to deal with."

you grimaced as you sipped on a glass of spiked punch (because of course harrison would do that at his wedding) , rembering the blood, sweat and tears you had shed trying to clear your name after being called 'holland's harlet' by too many media outlets too many times, "it wasn’t that bad." you weakly defended yoursled, giggling at the look stacey shot you.

"not that bad? bitch, you told kate garraway that you lost your virginity in an abandoned office building to tom holland when you were fifteen." stacey shot at you and you groaned, head rooping onto your shoulder.

"don’t remind me of that, I think I might be traumatized." you moaned.

"you're not in a wheelchair, shut up."

"mate, I said traumatized, not petrified."

and so you and stacey laughed the wedding away, the one braincell the two of you shared gifted to tonya as a wedding present, hopefully welcomed with opened arms by the hundreds she had. neither of you realized that, indeed, you were not petrified nor traumatized nor paralyzed, just a little girl in too-big a body who didn't know how to keep her mouth shut on live news stations.

there were no proper chip shops in your town; no crunchy, perfectly salted chips and crunchy battered cod in a blue trimmed shop owned by a nice, big man called chris who would give you an extra half-a-sausage if you sent him a toothy grin. no. there was, however, one chinese shop that had evolved into selling soggy, too-salty chips and battered sausages that were too batter-y to be called sausages. you supposed it was why they also sold the greasy, slightly too expensive for what they were, simple chinese dishes.

the shop was a two and half minutes walk from your house, and you had to cross a big two-laner and a small not-dirt-but-also-not-quite-tarmac road to get to where it was, next to a tesco express. tonight however, after harrison's wedding and the after-party and the stupid amount of alcohol you had drunk, the route took the better half of ten minutes.

you stumbled arm-in-arm with stacey, hand drunkenly tugging down the (way too bright) neon green dress that made you look like a highlighter under the street lights, but a glow stick that attracted men like moths to a light in the dark. stacey was barefoot, bar a pair of little ankle socks, and was moaning about something she stood on every couple seconds. behind you were myra and mia, the remaining two girls that completed you and stacey. they too were stumbling and giggling and whenever you glanced back, the vodka bottle (vodka and cherryade, as you kept being reminded) myra held glinted under the moon's yellow glow. leading the pack was tom, harry and sam, who's voices were loud and deep in the night air.

the seven of you had migrated back to your house around 1am, quickly becoming hungry for a good (or, rather, bad) chinese 'n' chippy. the said shop was a mere few metres away and mia was making a mental list of drinks and other snacks to get from the tescos, eyebrows furrowed and mouthing items silently as she entered the bright shop. tom and sam had taken it upon themselves to go into the shop, and you sat down on a bench with stacey.

"should I get a t'too?" she slurred, head dropping onto your shoulder.

you shook your head and stacey's answering grumble filled your ear. "just cause yours turned out shit."

"hey!" you defended loudly. "I was just a widdle baby."

"old enough to sleep with tommo." stacey giggled in your ear and you hit her leg.

"is that all you're going to talk about tonight?"

"no." stacey said and you could see the lie immediately through dizziness in your eyes. "why don't you just, I dunno, bang him again?"

"because.. im a smartie now. sex is a no-no." the words came out of you mouth and fitted together into a jigsaw set nobody could work out.

"riiight." stacey giggled again, the alcohol on her breath mingling in the air. out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash go off just as the boys exited the shop, arms laden with bags of food. a cheer resonated through the five of you, mia wooping in delight, plastic bag crunkling on her arm.

stacey laughed at something mia said, the noise bouncing around your lounge. you were lounged on a sofa with tom, cold toes pushed underneath his thigh, his warmth seeping into your skin, your bones, your soul. myra was pouring yet another round of shots and you groaned. your house stunk of smoke and liquor, and you weren't looking forward to when you'd have to clean it.

tom's face was lit up by your yellow toned lights, his eyes just as red as the pink of his lips, head resting against the sofa and smile etched so deep onto his face it relaxed your soul just seeing it. his hand was trailing up and down the inside of your calf, and you shuddered whenever his fingers brushed the small tattoo on your ankle.

you tore your gaze away from him when mia pushed the plastic cup of red currant rum into your left hand, the shot glass of vodka cold against your right. you rolled your at her, sloshing both back with a slight grimace, throat sore from the burn of vodka.

"yn,yn,yn." tom said in a singsong, eyes so warm and so inviting as he looked at you. an emotion flickered in them and his hand stopped and held your knee, banging it against the other one. "love you."

the quiet words traveled through the air and right into your heart, starting up all the blood and flowing right down to the tips of your fingers and your toes. "yeah?" you murmured.

he nodded forcefully, with a look that made him seem so young, like an adamant toddler, "yep! you're my bestest friend."

the warmth in your blood dissipated, even as he pulled you into his once so familiar lap, rubbing his head into your hair. it floated around you, buzzing like a flock of bees. mia had her phone out and was taking a video of the room, and you smiled as the camera panned over you, trying not to look like your heart had just been ripped out by superman.

the next day was surprisingly cold, a light drizzle waking you up in the morning. you were in your bed, wrapped up in the warmth, stacey snoring next to you, stabbing your head like a knife with every exhale. you groaned, hand mushing across your face. mia's small figure appeared in the doorway, sending you a weak smile and pointing at your dresser, where a cup of water and a pack of head medicine lay. her face was worried and you frowned after popping two pills.

"don’t, um, don’t be mad at me. please." her voice was quiet as she padded into the room, her feet slippered in a pair of old superman slippers you had had in the cupboard. sitting on the edge of the bed, mia shoved her phone in your face gently, and it took your eyes a couple seconds to adjust to what was on the screen.

"what the fuck." you muttered, taking the phone from her. an article was pulled up, 'does holland have the hots…again?'. a few dark photos were scattered throughout text as you skimmed it, of you and him at the wedding, the chip shop, and a few screenshots of you in his lap.

"I deleted the video as soon I could, I didn't know they would be looking at my profile." mia hurried. "im so sorry, I didn’t mean-"

"it's fine, it's fine." you shushed her as stacey stirred next to you. "is he still here?"

mia nodded and you sighed in relief. "'kay, cool."

somewhere in the back of your head was furious at mia, at you, the emotion hidden in a dusty corner in a box of suppressed memories you only dug out when you were feeling extra sad. you had learnt, after the horrible aftermath of the last set of photos, that caring made things much, much worse.

you could still feel where he and trailed his fingers up and down your calf, the action so careless.

breakfast was a quiet affair, the sounds of scraping knifes and forks digging into everyone's heads. the dread of a hangover hung in the air, weighing down every shoulder in the house. tom had, indeed, left, a mere twenty minutes after you woke up. the lack of his presence, as well as his brothers', was an unspoken thing, however much you could feel stacey twitching beside you.

you were eating off the plates your mum had bought you when you moved into your house, their edges striped blue and white, just like the perfect chip shop that was somewhere in your head.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #man they barely talked in this im soooo sorry #next time: yn's in London and working with tom #also tonya gets pegnant woopsie #mine #dbmff #don't blame me

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tsunmercenary · 3 years

Text

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸

The ticking of the clock was deafening in this silence. Gloved fingers tapped endlessly at the steel of her sleeves along with the rhythm of the clock’s ticking. Her feet shifted periodically to rest atop the other as they found no refuge from the cold floor beneath. Her toes curled and eyes wandered around the waiting room, anxious for the upcoming interview. The Hoshidan noble faced down the likes of bandits, enemy soldiers, and the likes of her father’s hideous abomination of a form, yet a simple interview seemingly intimidated her. Perhaps she should’ve allowed her older brother to accompany her like he asked, yet Corrin was adamant in proving she was adult enough to go alone. It wasn’t that she lacked the maturity, yet, she lacked the social skills to uphold her confidence in front of an audience. What if she answered a question wrong? What if they’re overly strict?

“Corrin?” The voice of the interviewer called out, the sound snapping her out of whatever inner dilemma she was griping with. Quick to not keep them waiting, she stood to her feet, brushing her royal blue cape backwards, before walking to greet them. Corrin’s gloved hand extended out to meet the interviewer’s, who met her’s halfway.

“Right this way, please.”

The interviewer seemed polite enough, which eased most of her fears, though the anxious anticipation of what questions would be asked of her still remained in full. After being led down the hall, Corrin entered the office of the interviewer. The male gestured her to sit across from his desk, which she obliged. Lifting the ends of her cape to tuck them back, she took her seat, a soft breath exhaling from her lips.

Slipping glasses upon his face and a pen in one hand, the other holding the clipboard, the interviewer cleared his throat, looking to the princess. Surely he could tell how nervous she was, considering her slightly stiff posture. He simply offered a soft chuckle before showing a reassuring smile across his lips, his voice coming out relaxed, “Just breathe. I’m only going to ask you a few questions. Just be truthful, don’t overthink, and let it flow. Alright?”

“Yes, I can do that. Apologies for being so stiff, I’ve never done an interview before.” She offered up her own laugh, which shook a bit as it came out.

“Not a problem at all. Interview anxiousness is more common than you think.”

Those words offered up a bit more relief to the princess, allowing her to finally settle into her chair. As they loosened, her muscles lightly ached due to being tensed for so long.

“What has led you to where you are today?”

Her hands came together, fingers interlocking with one another as she pondered the first question presented. “Right, my past is a bit..complicated I should say. As a young girl, I was raised within my native kingdom, Hoshido. Hoshido is a beautiful land, filled with blossom trees, bright green grass as far as the sea, and a breeze that always felt so warm across my face, no matter the season. There, I was raised by a beautiful woman, who’s voice could lull any rampaging dragon to sleep.. and a man who’s sword held just as much weight as his wisdom and kindness. At least, that is what I was told.”

She smiled just a bit, the happier memories flooding her mind with warmth until it began to lower and fade into that of darkness. “The neighboring kingdom of Nohr often held conflict against Hoshido, so much so that war seemed inevitable. That was, until my father agreed on a peace treaty with King Garson himself. He set out with myself to meet him at the border. Being an innocent child, naive to the criticalness of the situation, I held my father’s hand, just like I did time and time again. Who knew it’d be the last.. Neither of us could’ve predicted what was to come next.”

Crimson Irises lowered to the table as vague memories began to come rushing back like a raging tidal wave. The sounds of arrows piercing flesh and the screams of her father echoed out as if he stood mere meters away from her chair. What was once happy, warm-felt memories, now cooled into dark and cold nightmares, which swallowed them up within shadows. It was as if her thoughts manifested into a dark entity, gripping onto her wrist with malicious intensity. Corrin could hear the cries of her younger self, being dragged away from her father’s dying corpse by a monster shrouded in darkness. Slightly, yellow stained teeth and predatory eyes stared down at her. It took another few, agonizing moments to finally snap from her thoughts, shaking her hand free of what she now realized to be her own grasp. Her hand seemingly tightened with anxiety and fear from reliving that moment. So much so that they shook upon release.

The interviewer was about to voice his concern, yet she shook her head in dismissal.

“Sorry.. it’s quite the harsh memory.. scary even. After I was taken, I was raised in Nohr for about ten years. The land of Nohr was vastly and terrifyingly different from what I was used to. Dead trees that seemed like ragged, wilted hands rising from the dirt to grasp whatever was in sight. It was always cloudy, and dark, with a bit of rain. I spent just about all of my time there within a tower, training to become a knight to show my worth to the king.. to my “father.” Looking back, I believe I was nothing more than a trophy, flaunted as a slap in the face to Hoshido.”

Her eyes wandered up towards the male, widening upon seeing his expression. He looked intently, as if interested. His eyes didn’t seem dull from boredom, but alert. Though, she worried she was taking too long to finish.

She shook her head once more, brushing a strand of silver hair back and behind her ear, “I’m going on far too long, I should wrap up. Uhm, sorry sorry, it’s really long-“

“No no! There’s no rush, lady Corrin, please continue. Take your time.” The interviewer reassured.

Corrin took a breath to recompose herself, “Despite being so miserable in Nohr, I had my own family there. Siblings that cared for me, served as the somewhat parental figures that I lacked. War broke out between the two kingdoms and when it came down to choosing sides, I went back to my homeland, to fight along side my true siblings.”

There was a moment of silence between the two as her face contorted a bit, trying ever so desperately to hold in her emotions. Despite her best efforts, however, she couldn’t help but become overwhelmed by grief. When she finally did speak, her voice was higher pitched and slightly strained.

“It broke my heart to break away from siblings that truly loved me in Nohr and I loved them as well..” A tear gently fell down her cheek, leaving a trail as it traveled downward to finally fall from her face. “I’ve physically been with them longer than anyone. I’ve played with them, cried with them, they were damn near my family as well but I couldn’t just stand by and allow Nohr to mercilessly attack and destroy a kingdom that only wanted peace! Leaving them was the hardest decision of my life. And to see the look of heartbreak, betrayal, and eventually anger upon their faces have truly haunted me ever since.”

The interviewer kindly offered some tissue, which the princess gratefully took in hand, wiping her tears. When she felt she could continue again, she continued,

“ After what felt like an eternity of war, I’m here now after it finally reached its end. It was my brother’s idea in sending me here to sort of recover and cope from the horrors of war without having to be constantly reminded of the blood I’ve shed myself. Some time away from the kingdom would be good for my mental and I can agree. I believe I should lend my strength and support to Fodlan. Perhaps through my deeds, I can heal.”

The interviewer nodded, writing down notes before moving to the next question.

“What are your strengths and weaknesses?”

“Ah, my strengths are definitely my sword fighting skills. I was trained ever since I was about ten years old, after arriving in Nohr. I’m rather efficient with that and I tend to use my draconic form to aid in battle as well. Though, my most notable strength has to be my motivation in uniting everyone. Keeping all safe and together. I’ve seen what war brings and the last thing I want is for it or needless violence to erupt again. Unfortunately, it serves as a double edged sword.. my pacifist ways have endangered lives before and I’ve had to gripe with that. I’ve been told that I’m over-trusting at times. Although it’s gotten better and I’ve developed into that of a more defensive fighter upon the confrontation of any threat, I’m not the one you should consider sending first into battle if it’s for.. preemptive measures.”

“Alright,” the interviewer breathed, his pen lowering down to the last question, tapping it with the tip.

“If a story were to be written about your life, what role would you play?”

This question stomped her, her eyes lowering to the table. She pondered for a minute or two, eyes shifting from the table, down to her hands, which were once again, enclosed within one another. Finally, with a deep breath, she looked to the interviewer before speaking, “None. If there were to be a story written about me, I’d opt to not be apart of it or even attend.”

This took the interviewer by surprise. He would imagine if someone weren’t to participate in a performance of their life, at least they would attend.

“You wouldn’t attend at all?”

She merely shook her head, her smile returning as she laughed, a bit embarrassed that she bewildered the interview in such a way.

“I mean, I’d be flattered, don’t get me wrong. But I wouldn’t want to attend. I’ve made so many mistakes, made turns where if I took another route, others would still be alive. Reliving such events wouldn’t bode well with me, honestly. I’m not someone who should be honored in anyway, shape, or form. I can’t change the path I’ve taken, but I can at least strive to look forward with optimism and work to make life better.. for everyone. But, I’d happily attend another’s, especially if they asked.”

The interviewer wrote his last notes down before standing to his feet, quickly followed by Corrin. He extended a hand out with a smile, Corrin meeting his half-way and shaking it.

“I believe we’re done. I’ll contact you on your application process, lady Corrin. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”

“It was a pleasure to speak with you, and I thank you for your consideration. I truly am honored to have such an opportunity.”

@theofficersacademy

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acraftedmistake · 4 years

Text

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM: The Dark Room

The Dark Room

If you were to leave Obsidian Town and walk north for some time, you would run into a large ravine. Peering into the ravine, you’d be met with an abyss and believe sunlight could never make its way in there. The end of this ravine met where the forest--one of many--began. If you walked to where these two collided, you’d find a smooth stone staircase hidden between the old oak trees. The stairs led to the very bottom of the ravine; the steps were built into the sides of it. Redstone torches, which were only lit during the day, were placed above every several steps.

Once you’ve reached the bottom, you’d be greeted with a field of green grass with puffy, red flowers scattered about. Bushes with budding flowers were placed along the dirt path, helping to better define the clearing in the field.

The path would lead your eyes to the entrance of--one of the many shrines of--The Hero’s Awakening. Two towering, beige columns--one broken, the other still standing--had been wrapped by vines, and stood on both sides of the shrine’s entrance.

The shrine was built into the ravine itself, and was much more spacious than the exterior leads one to believe,

Above the wide, open doorway was The Awakening’s symbol, a simplified shape of a hollow eye which watched all who entered.

Their doors were always opened when the Sun was out, serving as a home and a haven for the people. Even after gatherings.

It was quite the walk from home, but to many, the traveling was worth it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“... And I was trying to help!” Jesse exclaimed, his voice echoing through the empty nave. The only other people here were Cecil, who was sitting in one of the many barren benches, and Brenner, who stood across from Jesse. There was no gathering happening for the next few hours, so Jesse could raise his voice as much as he pleased.

“I am aware, Jesse.” Brenner began. His arms were at his side, stiff. “But what you did was reckless and unprompted. You put yoursel--”

“Unprompted?” Jesse repeated. His face twitched.

“I thought you guys wanted to know what Aiden was doing!” He pointed to Cecil then to Brenner.

Cecil’s head kept swishing back from Jesse to Brenner whenever either of them spoke. His sickly pale skin and light blond hair would constantly be caught in the corner of Jesse’s eye, annoying him to no end. It was like a bug continuously zipping by that Jesse would love to crush but couldn’t.

“We never said such a thing, Jesse. Perhaps you misheard.” Brenner said, his foggied eyes locked onto Jesse’s face. “Regardless, you’ve been able to receive information far better and quieter than yesterday.”

“Now hold on!” Jesse started approaching Brenner, his hands curling into fists as Cecil watched him with worry. “I was not the one screaming my head off, that was all Radar’s--”

The moment Brenner heard his words with the nearing footsteps, he slapped the side of Jesse’s head with as much force as possible. Jesse stumbled back and rubbed the stinging area, glaring at the man through the curls of his hair.

“You do not speak that traitor’s name here!” Brenner finally raised his voice, looking down on the boy.

“You have been acting rambunctious and careless these past few weeks. We finally retrieved you from prison after Cavern City and what did you do? Threw yourself out there and drew all attention towards yourself! How do you justify such behavior?!”

“I’m only doing what you wanted.” Jesse argued. “You guys keep sitting around, planning, waiting for everything to fall into place! I just want to GET somewhere.”

Cecil stood up from his seat, ready to join the quarrelling, but Brenner heard him shifting and motioned him to sit back down.

“Is this about your two friends, Jesse?” Brenner asked with a horrible mixture of sympathy and shaming. A tone which only Brenner perfected. A tone that could back anyone into a miserable corner.

Jesse stiffened. He gripped and pulled on a handful of his hair. He didn’t want to respond.

“I was afraid of this.” Brenner said after receiving no answer. “Is this… Impulsiveness because of your friends? You do understand for everything to work, you must be patient. They’re only a small part...”

“Shut up…” Jesse muttered to himself as Brenner continued. He’s heard variations of this lecture before. How he’s ‘over dramatic’ or ‘acts out’. Usually, he’d hate them for the way Brenner spoke, treating him like a misbehaving child rather than an adult. But this time, this lecture was different. More… Personal. To have Brenner bring Jesse’s deceased friends into it made him tremble with anger. Brenner had promised him if everything played out as it’s supposed to, Lukas and Olivia would be back. Of course Jesse wants to rush and finish every part of the plan, of course he’s going to be ‘reckless’, those were his only friends. He’s told Brenner this before. Why doesn’t he understand that?

“... Honestly, it makes me wonder if you even deserve to have them--”

Jesse’s eyes widened and, without any restraint, shouted “SHUT UP!”

Jesse’s grave mistake echoed through the hollow nave. Brenner’s talking ceased and he stood still. Cecil’s pupils shrunk and he held his breath.

Jesse had rarely ever raised his voice at Brenner, much less yell at him. No one did.

The echo seemed to have rang throughout the room for ages before it finally faded. All Jesse and Cecil could do was wait. Wait for Brenner’s brows to crease, for the scowl to form, for his posture to stiffen further as he’d peer down.

But he didn’t.

Strangely, his body loosened. His shoulders drooped as he slowly put his hands behind his back, looking at Jesse with… Concern.

“Or perhaps…” Jesse recognized the tone Brenner was speaking in all too well. “You need time to think.”

Brenner began walking towards him. Cecil left his seat to join the elder man’s side. Usually Jesse would back down, be verbal with his refusal to come, or show any sign of resistance, but a part of him had anger still fueled by Brenner’s words.

He stood in place, watching Cecil extend his hand out--the long sleeve of his disgusting brown suit swaying with his movement--before Jesse shoved him away.

“I don’t need you to hold my hand.” Jesse muttered through gritted teeth, loud enough for Cecil to hear but not Brenner. “I know where it is.”

Cecil stepped back, visibly frustrated.

‘I wish you had been blinded as well.’ Jesse thought to himself as shoved past the two of them, making his way to the door hole at the very end of the nave.

The ‘door’ was on the far left from the stage. On the stage was a wooden podium with The Awakening’s cracked and worn symbol that has stood here for ages, ancient, dusty pots which were only decorated and lit for special occasions, and two long, draping banners--wrinkle free--that hung from the walls. In the middle of the wall between the banners--far enough to not cause a fire--were two redstone torches. Their combined fires were bright enough to nearly illuminate the stage and nave entirely. All except for the door hole. A hole which led to a dark hallway devoid of all life, light, and comfort. It was almost as if light itself avoided the area.

No matter where you sat at the nave, the door could always be seen. Even a snippet of it. It was a reminder. A warning of where the people could be dragged to if they acted out.

“Maybe I do need more time away from you.” Jesse said, making his way to the door hole and stepping into the abyss of a hallway. Brenner followed behind--Cecil as well--having no problem keeping up with Jesse’s fast walking. Jesse heard no response from either of them. All he did hear were his footsteps echoing as he continued walking deeper and deeper into the hall, growing colder and colder.

Jesse picked up the pace. He could see the weak glow of the redstone torch at the end of the hallway. The fire was barely enough to light the door, which was built into the left side of the hall.

Jesse gripped the cold, metal knob and swung the door open. “I finally got out of jail only for you to put me in another one. Fine by me!”

Oh, how he wished Brenner could see the scowl on his face.

“Jesse, this is not a ‘prison’, it’s merely--”

Jesse didn’t want to hear it. He slammed the door in front of Brenner’s face as hard as he could, wishing the force would crumble the walls and crush them all. He leaned against the door and pressed his face against the rough wood of the door. He heard Brenner sigh then lock the door.

“Please understand this isn’t punishment. I would never do such a thing.” Brenner said on the other side. “I only want you to… Think. Think of what you’ve done, what’s been going on… We’ll continue this conversation once you’ve calmed down.”

Jesse wasn’t sure if Brenner was expecting a response, but he gave him a half hearted “Mhm.”

Jesse kept his face against the door, listening to Brenner and Cecil walk away as they talked to themselves. About Jesse. Once Jesse could no longer hear the steps or chatter, he turned back around to face a room he was far too acquainted with. The Dark Room.

He had been in this room a number of times throughout his few years with The Awakening. All for reasons Jesse could not recall. Perhaps it was mostly arguing. Verbal. That was what Brenner had always said. Jesse didn’t think he had ever gotten physical in the past. He could control himself, even during the most frustrating times, today being one of the examples.

‘I didn’t even do anything.’ Jesse grumbled to himself. Was defending yourself considered a sin now? Brenner had seen Jesse at his lowest moments, he had heard his raised voice before, yet Brenner would never give a proper explanation to why Jesse would be taken to this miserable room. ‘Calm down’, ‘Think’, ‘Don’t let your emotions get the better of you’.

Jesse shifted around, letting his back lay against the door, and stared at what little the room provided.

All there was here were four falls.

Four stupid walls.

Three bare walls and one wall straight across from the door with two redstone torches placed high. No matter how dim, they were the only source of light. The two torches are, in Mahlon’s words, ‘The Hero’s eyes watching you’. Jesse could never see it.

‘Think.’ Brenner’s voice echoed in his head.

Think? About what? What is there to think about? About how much he despised this room?

He had his own room in the shrine. They offered it to him when he had nowhere else to go, and he was grateful for it. Jesse had wondered if being sent to his room would be blissful or humiliating in comparison to being thrown into this horrid place. Yes, he’d be treated like a child, but his room had things to keep him occupied. His journal, the few books The Awakening gifted him, a pen to scribble with, a bed to rest on.

But here? There was nothing.

Actually, that wasn’t necessarily true. Besides the unavoidable torches, there was something in this room, and it was far from delightful.

Jesse knew he wasn't the only person to have been locked in here before, he knew Radar had been here once, and it’s evident the moment you step in. An overpowering, nauseating scent of sweat, urine, feces, and vomit of the people who had been here before was enough to make anyone sick. And though Jesse had been able to deal with this repulsive smell more and more, he still understood just how disgusting it was. They had never cleaned this place. Jesse knew. He had seen the same stains and piles remain with each visit.

The two cleanest areas of this room was a small portion of the floor by the door, and by the torches, where most people tend to stay by. He was uncertain if the walls were cleaned, but he didn’t want to take any chances. There were a few instances where Jesse had dozed off in the room, and each time he’d awaken with the smell holding onto and choking him while grime stuck to his face and clothes. Jesse’s feet would cramp for staying in his shoes for too long, but he refused to take them off here. He would never condemn neither his socks or feet to ever come into contact with the cold, sickly floor.

Jesse, unlike the many others who had been taken here before, could survive in this room. He could tolerate the aches of staying in the same position for hours, his appetite had dwindled throughout the months, and he’s learned to suppress many of his body’s urges.

All Jesse can do is sit around, ‘think’, and wait.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few hours must’ve passed, Jesse could hear footsteps and chattering growing by the minute. A gathering will be happening soon.

It didn’t feel like a few hours passed. Jesse couldn’t explain it, but whenever he sat in place, pulling his hair or finding another way to keep himself occupied, time managed to fly by. A window would be nice. A window would be wonderful. He’d love to see a snippet of the sky rather than the murky gray surrounding him, and those red torches with their red glow.

Jesse didn’t mind the gatherings, he often attended them, but being in the room while one was taking place was a different story. Here, he dreaded them. They seemed significantly longer and louder. He didn’t know if the leaders did this intentionally or not. Their raised voices would travel through the hall, push their way through the cracks of the door, and into Jesse’s head.

The commotion had died down, and those sweet seconds of silence allowed Jesse to prepare for the eternity of talking.

He breathed in and placed his ear against the door. He couldn’t do anything else but listen.

While the gathering’s introduction--a brief speech of what the leaders would be talking about today--started out muffled, Jesse recognized the deep tone as Brenner’s.

“...With the anniversary of The Hero’s Banishment approaching, I can only imagine how excited you must be. And while Cecil, Mahlon, and I do have plans for the day, we believe now would be the time to discuss the importance of restraint and patience…”

Jesse shot up, grit his teeth, and saw red. He glared at the door, hoping the daggers would dig into Brenner’s skull. Jesse kept staring intensely at the door, his hands clenched and shaking. He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.

He swung his leg back and began kicking the door. He kept kicking at a consistent speed, getting increasingly louder; he wouldn’t accomplish anything, the door was new, it wouldn’t break. But he knew they could hear him, he could interrupt the leaders with enough of a ruckus.

Jesse stopped. A smile crept across his face.

‘They can hear me.’ Jesse remembered. Yes, the only benefit to this room and the hollow hallway, he can hear them and they can hear him. Why waste his energy thrashing about?

He just needs to be… Patient.

Jesse turned back around and leaned against the door, waiting for the time to come.

He’d have to wait for the People’s Payment to finish before the speech would start. Then he could begin. The Payment was the shortest part of the gathering; row by row, people would come to the stage and offer however much money they desire, but if they did not have any money on them--or chose not to donate--then they’d ‘pay’ with a Truth. A confession. To admit to anything, no matter how big or small. A small number of people, mostly newcomers, often confessed to smaller actions, such as breaking a framed photo, stealing, misdemeanors, but you’d have the rare instances where others would confess to heinous thoughts and actions.

Jesse could make out the leaders’ “Thank you”s, the faint confessions of the people, the money being placed into the basket, all those tiny sounds combining and fueling Jesse’s excitement.

Everyone fell silent again. Brenner cleared his throat, everyone leaned close, ready to listen. Even Jesse found himself eager for Brenner to begin talking.

The moment Brenner began speaking, a strange happiness rushed through Jesse. He had never been happier to hear his voice today. He allowed Brenner to continue the speech for several minutes, waiting like an enthusiastic child for the perfect moment.

Once he was certain Brenner had become immersed in the discussion, Jesse took a lungful of the repulsive air.

“MENDAX!”

Brenner continued talking.

“MENDAX!”

The talking weakened for a moment before carrying on.

Jesse remembered listening in on a conversation the leaders had when they believed he was asleep, where Malhon--the oldest of the three--was ranting about how much he despised the word. Jesse had no idea what the word meant, nor the history behind it, but he one day said the word aloud with Mahlon in earshot and was met with deafening shouting and thrown into the room. He was let out far sooner than expected, their reason being Jesse’s lack of knowledge of the word.

“MENDAX!”

To this day, Jesse still doesn’t know why such a word sparks such an outrage, but he knows it made the leaders upset. And that was enough for him.

“MENDAX!”

He’d only yell the world when in the dark room. He thought it a harmless way to ‘get back’ at the leaders, make them ‘even’. Being in the room was already his punishment, they couldn’t possibly punish him any more. Jesse wished he could see their faces each time he spoke it, to see them repress their anger in front of the people must be a sight to see. It’d interrupt the gathering, Mahlon would send Cecil over to tell him to knock it off like usual, and Jesse would continue until his throat would burn.

“MENDAX!”

He began banging on the door with his fist, occasionally twisting the knob reckless to make it sound like he was attempting to escape. He could no longer hear Brenner’s voice, but he did hear footsteps approaching.

‘Cecil.’ Jesse thought to himself. He stood up and positioned himself by the door, close enough to be face to face with Cecil the second he’d open it.

He heard the jangling of keys and the turning of the knob.

The door cracked open. Jesse’s eyes widened, he instinctively backed away, and what little of a smile he had vanished.

“Are you done?” Brenner asked coldly, his white eyes piercing into Jesse.

Brenner had never been the one to quiet Jesse. Not in the room. Never. Never. Never.

Brenner took Jesse’s silence as a ‘Yes’ and closed the door, leaving Jesse alone once again.

Jesse clutched his stomach, his petty anger had been replaced with… Not fear… Not fear. Worry. Worried he would stay here longer, worried what Brenner was going to do, worry.

Jesse sat down, his back facing the door. He had dug himself into this four cornered hole, and all he could do now is wait.

He hugged his knees. He couldn’t think of anything. All sounds have been drowned out. The talking, the footsteps, the crackling of the torches’ fires, everything.

He remained in the position for a while. He wasn’t sure if it had been minutes or an hour, but it was a while. His eyes had been kept on the small bits of torn skin on his fingers as he spaced out.

It was beginning to bother him.

It was beginning to bother him a lot.

He needed to take his mind off of what had happened somehow. He needed something.

He slowly began picking at the skin around his thumb, slowly scratching and peeling whatever he could grab onto.

He would do this often. It helped.

It helped.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He stared at his hands, attempting to pick off the remaining bits of skin, but just barely touching them caused them to sting intensely. He stretched his hands out in front of him and stared. They were torn, burning, and red. He moved his fingers about in the darkness, watching them. Watching them. In the dark. Watching.

He couldn’t stare at them any longer.

He couldn’t.

It reminded him of--

How long has he been in here?

The gathering ended long ago.

How long were they planning on keeping him here?

He was usually kept in the dark room for six to eight hours, but that was his rough estimate.

The longest time he had been kept in this room was 12 hours. Supposedly. He had fallen asleep in there, and was informed of how long he had been locked in when Cecil awoke him. A part of Jesse wondered if he was lying.

The first time he was in the dark room was his shortest time. He was only there for four hours. He was in there because of Radar. Jesse could recall his first time in the room all too well.

After he had spent his first few months in The Awakening, Jesse kept asking about Radar. Why did they hate him? Why did he leave? He heard Radar’s side of the story, but began questioning the legitimacy of it after spending more time in the shrine. He wanted to hear the other side, but was dismissed and told ‘not to talk about him’, to ‘never interact with him’. Jesse didn’t listen and did so anyways. He had found Radar and asked for an explanation, to elaborate on his experience with The Awakening, to explain why he’s referred to as a ‘quitter’, but Radar panicked.

Radar panicked and told Aiden where Jesse had been.

Then Aiden and all his friends tried to find him, and Brenner found out, and--he hated him. He hated Aiden, he hated Aiden’s friends, he hated that damned quitter. He hated him.

It was Radar’s fault Jesse was thrown into the room for the first time, and now it was Radar’s fault Jesse was thrown into the room this time. That damned--

Crack

Jesse brought his head up.

Snap

Those dreadful torches.

Many people would bring themselves closer to the torches, they were the miniscule source of warmth and light within this unforgiving room. But not Jesse. Not anymore.

Jesse despised these torches. The flames which never went out, the wood that’d never burn out, the faint smell of smoke that mixed with the bodily fluids, the crackling of the fires perfectly mimicking the sound of breaking bones that’d interrupt any coherent thoughts, how the torches managed to make the room feel even colder.

Crack

He hated them.

CRACK

Jesse slowly stood up, his strained eyes locked onto the torches as he approached them. He had tried to tear those wretched things from their place every time he was here and never could.

But this time…

This time will be different.

Jesse stood before the taunting wall, looking up at the torches. They were so close. So close within his reach.

Though the wall might’ve been filthy, Jesse couldn’t care less. He pressed himself against the wall and shot an arm up, trying to reach for the wood of the torch while his other hand dug into the cracks of the wall.

He stood on the tip of his toes, the tips of his fingers barely brushed against the wood.

He was so close.

It can’t be that hard.

It can’t.

He kept stretching his arm, attempting to grab either of them several times. His arm was quickly growing tired, he let his hand drag down the wall, scraping the skin of his fingers along the way as dirt stuck onto them.

He hated this.

He shot both arms up, desperately trying to grab--to feel--the torch, imagining the satisfaction he’d be rewarded with. He instinctively put one foot against the wall, as if ready to climb, and tried throwing both arms towards the torches. When one would fail, he’d drag it against the wall, causing his hands to feel as though they’ve been set ablaze.

He’d scratched and tear at the walls, jumped, pleaded, all while sweat began mixing with his saliva; his eyes forced tears out.

Each time his hands would scratch the wall, they’d run past a section which was getting more and more damp. It could be filth. It could be his blood.

He didn’t care if his fingers bled, if the skin would shred and be reduced to nothing but bone. He didn’t care for his burning eyes, begging him to blink and look away from the horrid light. He refused to blink. He refused to stop. He wanted to get them.

He will get them.

He hated them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The door opened, Brenner stepped in.

Before him, on the far other end of the room, stood Jesse. His side against the wall, hunched over, taking heavy breaths as his burning, aching fingers were sprawled out. He stared at the man with eyes showing both exhaustion and wildness. All energy had been taken, all he could do was remain in place with his mouth open. Breathing. Watching.

“Did you get all of that out of your system?”

#minecraft story mode #mcsm #mcsm jesse #100th post is coming up #that will be chapter 10 #hope you enjoy!#APWHNPMCSMWASAMCSM #AU fic

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fairyqueenofthedragons · 4 years

Text

To Save a Life (I would Hold my World)

Previous chapter || First Chapter || Next Chapter

________________

Seth and Kendra had a plan, it wasn’t terribly clever, but they didn't have many options.

They had to escape. They needed to get away.

If they escaped there was nothing holding Warren here, nothing making him obey Ronodin.

If they escaped then Warren could come home.

He wouldn’t hurt any more (he had looked so sad, so pained, but so determined… they feared what he would do for them).

They wouldn't let Warren break himself for them.

Kendra and Seth managed to get out of their cell, slipping out and past the guards without a fight. Kendra’s light was their biggest worry, so she was wrapped in blankets. They weren't sure that would do it, but hopefully that would muffle the light. They weren't sure that was the case.

They slipped through the halls and managed to slip out.

They were free!

It seemed almost too easy, but they'd managed it. They'd gotten away.

They peeked out and studied the area.

They were surrounded by fields, the tree line a distant fuzz in the distance.

They had no idea where they were, at least until they noticed a dragon swooping through the sky above them.

Either the Dragons had won the war, or they were in a dragon sanctuary.

Probably one of the ones they hadn’t been in before since nothing looked familiar. Kendra wasn't sure that was good news.

Right now their priority was finding the exit.

They had experience with wilderness survival, they could handle this for a bit.

They started out.

It took two days before they left the grasslands behind.

The only reason they'd managed to go unnoticed was because the grasses were nearly five feet tall. They'd managed to crawl and hide amongst the grass, escaping notice from dragons and other beings alike.

They reached a wooded area next.

They spent almost a week slipping through the trees, hiding from so many different creatures. It was terrifying. They were tense constantly, afraid to speak more than the faintest whisper. The slightest slip might have them back with Ronodin.

But they would escape.

They slept in the trees, curled against each other, the blankets used to dampen Kendra's light wrapped around them.

Seth was the leader for most of it. Seth was knowledgeable on all the wilderness stuff, he made sure they did the right thing.

They refused to separate, they couldn’t bare for only one to escape, they would do it together.

Kendra was the one that found a good cave, and a little fairy that helpfully pointed them towards the exit, which was in the opposite direction they had been heading.

It would probably take them three weeks, at least, to get to the gate of the sanctuary.

But they would do it.

They had to do it.

They planned an arc, to keep away from Ronodin’s base, the fairy giving advice, and started out again.

Back through the trees (thankfully there were enough fruit bearing ones for them to have food), arcing around the grasslands and to a much more rocky area.

There was a lot more hiding, neither night nor day was safe.

They had to constantly duck and hide, constantly tuck into small spots.

It was frankly a miracle that nothing saw them.

The main issue was still Kendra’s light though.

Most all the creatures would be able to see it. Which meant they had to take cover during the night, or risk being a beacon for the creatures that roamed around.

She really needed to learn how to hide it.

But it wasn’t like they could test it here.

So they continued on. Slowly traveling through the preserve.

They were filthy, tired, and constantly alert. They wanted to go home.

They were tucked into a good cave when they heard shuffling at the entrance.

They stiffened, carefully wrapping Kendra tighter in the blanket, hiding her face against Seth. Hopefully his shadows would counter her light.

Slowly the shuffling came closer.

Until suddenly a light appeared, and…

Oh…

“Warren!” Seth cried.

Kendra shot up, tripped on the blanket, and tumbled right back to the ground.

“Kendra!” Warren cried, hurrying over to her.

He looked horrible, covered in dust and dirt, his hair a wreck, his clothes torn. But he was there.

Kendra lunged for him, hugging him tight.

Seth quickly joined the hug.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he hugged them, whispering reassurance, “I’ve got you, you’re safe now.”

“War-Warren, did you, how did you, how did you find us?”

“A little fairy told me. I’ve been following your trail for a week. I’m so glad I found you. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

He tucked both of them closer, breathing in shakily, “I was so worried about you.”

Kendra sniffed, clutching tighter, “Are you okay Warren?”

He pulled them closer, silent for a long moment before he spoke, “Yeah. I’m okay. As long as you’re safe.”

She let out a breath. That meant no one else had died right? She didn’t want to ask.

They were free, that meant that he didn't have to listen to Ronodin anymore.

They'd done it.

“Come on, you two look tired, lets get you bundled up. I’ll keep watch, you both look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”

They both curled into him, letting him tuck them in, and wrap them up.

Curled against him, safe for the first time in months, they slept.

#To Save a Life #Look fluff #i do know how to put happy in here #kendra sorenson #fablehaven #fablehaven fanfic #dragonwatch #warren burgess #seth sorenson

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Otherworldly Kings and Queens (10/10) Caspian Version

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Female!Reader/ Peter Pevensie x Female!Reader

Warnings: emotional ending but happy!

Word Count: 2.6k

Part Summary: As the Pevensies time in Narnia comes to an end, Y/N must decide. There isn’t just one question that needs to be answered... who will Y/N pick? Will Y/N really consider staying in Narnia?

A/N: And with that one of my first series comes to an end... it’s both exciting yet sad at the same time as I’ve had so much fun writing it. Thank you to everyone who’s followed the series! I appreciate you so much! Be warned, you bet I cried a little writing this! It’s so bitter-sweet!

Masterlist

Peter slips his hand from mine and steps forward. "We'll go," he volunteers us.

"We Edmund frowns, sharing my expression.

"Wait, what?" I express rather rashly.

"Come on. Our time's up," Peter tells me solemnly, but an ounce of hope lingers in his tone. "After all... we're not really needed here anymore," he determines while approaching Caspian to offer him his sword.

"I will look after it until you return," Caspian assures Peter confidently.

"I'm afraid that's just it," Susan interjects beside me. "We're not coming back."

"We're not?" Lucy pouts with concern.

"You two are," Peter predicts, glancing between Aslan and his youngest sister. "At least, I think he means you two."

"But why?" Lucy struggles to comprehend the purpose behind this news, as do I. "Did they do something wrong?"

Though, frankly, I'm finding it hard to swallow this harsh pill. But all things have their time.

"It's all right, Lu," Peter tries to ease Lucy's mind as he takes her hand gently. "It's not how I thought it would be...but it's all right."

Peter directs his attention to me and holds out his free hand for me to take. "One day you'll see, too. Come on."

"Your course is not as clear-cut as theirs," Aslan states with uncertainty. "You still have much to learn from here, as do Edmund and Lucy. Going back means one day, you will return, as will they."

"So I am to go back," I hope to clarify.

All I want is an answer, to know my path.

"Returning to your world will bring you back here someday, yes, that is a course you may take," Aslan nods calmly.

"I'm glad I came," I tell Caspian whole-heartedly.

"I wish we had more time together," the prince sighs, taking my hands in his.

His hands are warm. Mine are always cold. I never noticed that before now. I'll miss that.

"I'm not entirely sure I belong here," I confess timidly, still unsure of my thoughts and Aslan's advice.

"Why not?" Caspian frowns as if my words are nonsense.

"I’m not of this world and if the Pevensies are 1,300 years older than you so am I," I shrug with a hint of a smile as I comprehend how old I am.

I'm not a Narnian or a monarch of Narnia. Aslan said I was meant to come here with the Pevensies, but our time is up and I've yet to find this purpose he speaks so much about.

Peter meets me halfway and wraps an arm around my waist, leading me toward the tree trunk. The Pevenesies begin toward the tree as well, ready to go on.

"It’ll be okay," Peter whispers in my ear as he brings me into his side.

I feel safe here with him. Peter is home for me. For years, he's been my rock, my strength. Through the war, losing my dad, through all the bad, Peter has been my guiding light.

He continues to comfort me. "Everything will be as if we-"

"Peter, no wait... " I shake my head as my steps come to a halt.

It takes a second for Peter to react. He comes to a halt a few steps ahead of me. Turning over his shoulder, he gives me a confused look.

"I can’t go back," I voice, but my volume is weak.

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"I... I think I’m still needed here..." I stammer with uncertainty. "At least... At least that’s what I think Aslan means. He speaks like a fortune teller and it’s confusing!"

Peter switches his now crossed expression from me to the lion. "Aslan, is that true?"

"Y/N’s future is not set in stone as your four’s is in history. She has known that she has to decide her course of action for some time. The clock is dwindling," Aslan explains steadily.

Lucy steps forward from behind Peter. "You mean you have to stay here?"

"It means I have a choice, staying here or coming again later. I’m assuming the next time will be with you and Edmund. Either way, I’m needed here. I just know it." I try to explain, but how do I explain a feeling?

"But why?" Lucy pouts.

"I don’t know," I struggle to say as my eyes begin to well up.

"I do," Peter voices.

"What?" I mutter.

I press my lips together as my throat becomes strained from holding back tears. "Peter I- "

"It’s okay," he assures me as his hand glides up to cup my cheek. "Everything is as it should be."

"If this is how it should be, why does it hurt so much?" I mutter, my tone shaky with emotion.

"We mustn’t think like that. One day we'll be together again!" Peter thinks optimistically.

"I love you," I cry.

Peter grins at my words, a faint and joyful chuckle escapes between his teeth. "And I’ve always loved you, perhaps I always will. We’ll never lose that, even across worlds."

Now that our time has officially run out, I say my goodbyes to each of the Pevensies. I'm not just saying goodbye to Peter's siblings, each of them has become family to me. Lucy and Susan cry with me as the three of us hug each other. Edmund does his best not to show emotion, but I can see behind his stone hard expression that he's holding back. His tight embrace is enough evidence as well.

"Someday," I nod, as though I'm making a promise that one day we'll see each other again.

He nods, agreeing to the vow. "Someday."

"I've got you," he assures. "It’ll be okay."

I know..." I swallow hard, my face becomes blank other than the tears falling down my cheeks. "But for right now it's agony."

"This too shall pass. You did right by your heart today, be proud," Aslan encourages.

I glance toward the lion, "so I was right?"

"You were never wrong," he smiles.

"I can’t believe you stayed," Caspian confesses beside me.

I look at the boy with a sigh of relief. "I can't either, but it feels right," I smile softly.

Despite everything, the painful goodbye, the uncertainty, I know I'm where I'm meant to be now. I couldn't leave. I wasn't sure until Peter was guiding me to the tree. I would've done anything to stay.

"Now we have all the time in the world!" Caspian gleams, over the moon.

Seeing him so happy eases my emotions. He's right, now we have all we could ever need, more time.

"That’s all I ever wanted," I grin.

His lips part as his eyes scan my face. Gently, his hand brushes across my cheek, and I lean into his touch as my eyes fall shut. Now, when I close my eyes and envision the riverbank, he's there beside me. It was him all this time.

"Y/N? My Love," he mutters.

"Hm?" I hum contently as my eyes flicker open to meet his jet-black ones.

"Marry me," he states with certainty and determination.

Bewildered, my eyes widen. Marry him?! Be...Become Queen of Narnia?!

A sea of gasps and murmuring travel across the crowd. I shift my eyes to them, analyzing various faces. Then, I glance at Aslan. The lion narrows his eyes at me as he wears a soft smile. He wants me to make this decision for myself. He's certain I make it on my own. His words repeat in my mind, 'you were never wrong.' Is this the purpose he speaks of? Is this why I was called here?

Destiny is a funny thing.

Blinking rapidly, I inhale sharply and turn my attention back to Caspian who awaits my answer eagerly. He smiles brightly with raised brows. Our eyes meet and I decide instantly, perhaps I already knew my decision.

"Yes,” I answer without a moment’s hesitation.

Caspian releases a sigh of relief, his grin never fading. In a moment of impulse, I extend my neck and bring my lips to his. My fingers glide to the back of his neck, bringing him in closer. He deepens the kiss as he cups my face urgently. I smile into the kiss and he does the same, both of us over the moon.

Finally, we have time, something we thought we’d never have. Now, we have forever.

_________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rangergranger11 @hyperactiveravenclaw @whiskeywinter89 @i-hav-no-life

#narnia #narnia imagine #prince capsian x reader #caspian x reader #prince caspian #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #susan pevensie #peter #lucy pevensie

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orangeseoks · 4 years

Text

365 Rain Street EST.1809 // k.th

pt.4

[ unedited ]

The party had already began by the time myself and mother had arrived, we’re a bit late due to mothers slight wardrobe malfunction; the petty coat of her gown had torn beneath the heel of her dress causing her to go into a rage of panic.

Myself on the other hand, I look nothing out of the ordinary, my hair is styled neatly. My makeup is light yet simple, but my dress; it once belonged to mother. It was hers as a young woman getting fitted for her husband, I found it strange how I was given such an item. I’m thankful though, a few things will need re-stitching because of the size difference.

The two of us enter the Lee Manor with our heads raised high, “dear, remember to hand in your coat.” Mother reminds me, “uh. Yes mother, I will.”

“You seem uncertain, dear, is something the matter?” She asks, clearly concerned. Handing her coat to the housemaid, “no. Nothing at all.” I return, lowering my head as I hand my coat in, whispering a shy thank you to the elderly woman.

“Mother, do we have any seating arrangements?”

Mother laughs at this and waves her hand back at me, “nono. Why would there be such a thing? We’re guests of honor tonight, dear.”

Guests of honor? Does that mother has accepted Sir Lee?

A million thoughts flooded my mind as mother and I entered the ballroom, many tables and chairs set out around the outside for families or just anyone.

“Dear, assist me with my gown, something seems wrong.”

“Ah, yes-yes.” I retort quickly, stepping over to her and examining mothers gown. It was indeed fancy and expensive, something very rare to see coming from our family.

“Mother, your gown seems fine.” I speak with a gentle smile, “check once more dear, I’m sure something is wrong.”

“But mother-”

“Do it!” She spits back at me, gulping I hesitantly kneel slightly and examine her waistline incase her corset has loosened or perhaps a ribbon. Nothing, there is literally nothing wrong with her gown.

“Mother, I think that you’re worried too much-your gown, its fine.”

I listen to loud sigh coming from my mother and straighten my posture before she turns around to face me, “very well. Thank you dear, now go on and socialise.”

“Miss Jiyoo, she isn’t here mother, I’ll be all alone.” Mother shrugs at this, “there are others. That Taehyung boy, he must be here for it is his uncles party.” She says with a scowl on her face. “Go have a little look, hm?”

With a nod, I walk away from mother and into the large crowd of conversing and dancing strangers. I knew very little people other than mother, family and Jiyoo. Of course there is Mr Kim and his friends also.

Tiresom, all of it, I see no point in having to search for people because my mother is just too ashamed to have me around. A poor example of a woman if you were to put it.

But maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to be the perfect-ideal woman that we’re portrayed to be. Maybe I want to travel the world and pursue a career of my choice.

“Bloody mother,” I mutter underneath my breath. My hand ballings into to tight fists, the silk of my gloves crumpling and creasing between my fingers. Huffing, I leave the crowded ballroom and wander to the outside of the house.

Sitting myself down on the large entrance steps, ripping my gloves off and tossing them next to me. “I want only a break mother,”

Talking to myself, it seemed to be the only proper escape for me, considering no one listens to ones problems it was all I could really do.

Cutting me from my thoughts, a stray cat rushes over to my lonely figure, pressing itself against me. A small purr erupting from the tiny thing, “hello you.” I chime, patting the animal slowly amazed at how soft its fur it is.

“You shouldn’t be out during the late night, what would mama and papa think?” I ask the cat, knowing I won’t get an answer. “Do you want it?”

I gasp, jumping almost a mile high, I turn quickly and face the deep voice from behind me. “Mr Kim? What’re you doing here?”

He chuckles, walking slowly towards me, “its my uncles party? Why on earth would I not attend?”

I laugh nervously, “it is indeed, apologies Mr Kim.” Kneeling down next to me, Mr Kim picks up my discarded gloves and holds them up in front of the both of our faces.

“Now, why aren’t you wearing your gloves?” He questions, tilting his head with a playful smile. “No need, they’re just gloves; a mere accessory.” Mr Kim nods, seating himself next to me. The stray cat instantly waltzing over to him and doing what it once did to me with him.

“Its cute, don’t you think Mr Kim?” Reaching my hand forward, I pet the small the thing, running my hand down its body stopping to twist my fingers into its long tail. Playing with it in the gentlest manner.

“That it is,” Mr Kim finally says, looking up at me through his lashes. “Miss..” Mr Kim murmurs, gaining my attention. Raising my head I hum, “yes?”

“Have you been suited yet?” He asks me, catching me of guard. “Oh nono, not at all. I refuse to be suited with a man I’m not interested in.”

Mr Kim ohs, returning to the cat, “why do you ask Mr Kim?”

“Aha, no, nothing miss. Just pure curiosity.” He says back, his voice now low and sorrowful. “Mr Kim,” I begin to form a sentence in my head whilst I shuffle closer to him. The bitter cold of night now nipping at my skin.

“Why did you approach me the other morning?”

Instantly, Mr Kim chuckles and stands up, tucking my gloves into the pocket of his suit. “Walk with me,” he replies. Holding his arm forward for me to grasp onto. Once I’ve gotten onto my own two feet, he starts to lead us through a sea of trees and into a silent, peaceful garden.

The moonlight reflecting off of the pond sat elegantly in the centre, “why you ask.” He laughs, looking at his feet then back at me. “I simply approached you for the enjoyment of meeting a person such as yourself.”

Flattered, my cheeks grow red at this, my head lowering in the blink of an eye. “You’re quite the charmer Mr Kim,” I mutter just loud enough for him to hear. “So I’ve been told.”

The two of us come to a stop, the sudden silence causing me to look up in confusion, “Mr Kim? Is something the matter?” Smiling, Mr Kim shakes his head and faces me entirely. “Not at all.”

“Then what is it?”

Mr Kim hums and steps closer to me, his head leaning forward - stopping just below my ear. “Your mother is here, miss.”

A sudden rush of fear and anxiety washes over me, as I turn around at rapid speed, the sight of my mother making me gasp. She didn’t look happy, infact she looked quite irritated.

“I said for you to look for company, not! To go for a nightly stroll with this boy!” Mother yells at me, stomping loudly towards my frozen form. “What must I do to discipline you!? Such a troublesome little girl!”

“M-Mother, please. We were just-”

“Say as you wish dear, I know exactly what you were doing!”

Tears begin to bubble and blur my vision, my mothers harsh hold on my wrist burning at my flesh. The firey pain nothing compared to the abuse I receive constantly from mother and her words.

“M-Miss, I think you’re overreacting. Please, let us discuss things.” Mr Kim utters, his voice uncertain and laced with some sort of anger. The words coming off a tad stronger than intended.

“Ha! Why shall I listen to a disappointment of boy? She is my daughter, I make the rules. Not you!”

Sniffling, I hold a tuft of my dress in my closed fist, the constant shaking of my body making my breathing pick up and become heavier. “Miss, calm down, things will be alright.” Mr Kim chimes, his forced pleasantness still calming me in some way.

Placing his hand on the small of my back, he finds some sort of way to comfort me. “Do not touch my daughter!” Mother yells, yanking me forward. The sudden action sending me straight into the dirt.

My dress now ruined and coated in thick, brown dirt, I slap the ground with both my hands and let out a loud cry. Repeating my actions over and over again.

“Stop acting like a child! Get up and act like a proper lady!” Mother yells, using all her strength to pull me up by the wrist only making me scream and pull away. Hitting the ground with a loud thud.

Through the corner of my eye I spot Mr Kim running through a set of trees leaving me and my mother, feeling even more vulnerable I sniffle and look up at my mother with hooded eyes.

“Well.. Are you going to stand or must I carry like the child you are?”

Growling, I bite the inside of my cheek, collecting a tuft of grass and dirt before raising it into the air, throwing it at her with a cry of pain. “I hate you!”

(Y/n)s mother stumbles back in shock, her eyes wide and full of pure anger. “Say it once more dear,” she tests, taking a glove off of her hand slowly. “I hate.. you.” (Y/n) says slowly, another downpour of tears hitting her tinted cheeks.

What happened next was almost like whiplash, her head had turned completely to the left of her, the once glistening pond that looked magical now seeming depressed and empty.

This wasn’t the first time her mother had hit her, but this time. This specific hit was much different compared to the rest. Her eyes were so wide that it stung just looking into nothing but darkness.

“Disrespecting your mother like that! How miserable can one be!” She yells at her daughter, tossing her white glove onto the ground without a single care in the entire world.

“I hate you,” (Y/n) spits back at her mother. Facing her with an angered look, spitting the iron tasting blood that leaked from her mouth onto her mothers boots. “Perhaps you should go back to that lovely correction school, hm?” Her mother suggests, kicking the poor girl in the knee.

But that wasn’t the end, from a light kick in the knee she raised her hand once more and repeated past actions, the impact much harsher and powerful to the one earlier.

“Miss (Y/n)!” Taehyung yells as himself and a few others run through multiple openings, (Y/n)s mother never halting her actions as she continues to beat her helpless child.

“Mother please!” She cries out, covering her head with her slim arms, her mother hitting them repeatedly with her hands. Frustration evident.

“Mrs (L/n)!” Sir Lee shouts, coming up behind her, pulling her away from her bleeding an bruised child. “Stop this now!” He yells, Taehyung running over to (Y/n) and instantly falling to his knees at the sight of you.

You were shaking, covered in several fresh wounds, your face was full of hot tears. Even the dress that your mother once adored was now ruined from her fit of rage.

“(Y/n)..” Taehyung whispers, his own tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes, reaching his shaking hands forward. He cups your face in his hands and forces a smile in hopes of calming your senses.

Embarrassed, (Y/n) shakes her head and tries to cover her swollen face with her hands. Failing miserably, “for I wish I had never given birth to you! You’re just like your father, pitiful and a completely worthless!” Her mother yells, kicking towards her fear-filled daughter.

“Worthless!” She calls out, thrashing between Sir Lee’s arms, repeating those words just to get it through the girls head. Taehyung takes note of this and covers her ears to stop her from hearing what her mother has to say.

Smiling, he mouths thats things are okay when clearly they aren’t because his smile soon vanishes and a look of worry fills his features. Shielding (Y/n) he takes the harsh hits her mother is offering.

Getting pulled away for a second time, Mrs (L/n) resumes to fight back. Taehyung on the other hand, he refuses to let (Y/n) go, afraid that if he does he’ll lose her to that witch of a mother.

“Don’t worry miss,” Taehyung whispers into her ear, her body still shaking and her tears still falling. “You’re safe in my arms.. I promise.” And in an instant, little Miss (Y/n)s arms wrap around Taehyung’s body, burying her head in the shallows of his shoulders. Her cries now muffled.

Taehyung holds the girl closely to him, one of his hands running along her back to calm her down slightly. “Taehyung,” his good friend Jimin calls, kneeling down next to the two of them. The faint yelling of her mother echoing in the distance, but not enough to bother them.

“(Y/n), everything is alright now, please don’t be so gloom.” Jimin exclaims, a sad expression falling onto his delicate features. It hurt Jimin also to see her in such a state, he’s not known her for long but he’s known her to be quite mature, kind and shy.

But everyone can feel pain, as sad as it sounds.

Reaching a hand forward, Jimin places it on (Y/n)s shoulder, his thumb drawing small circles into the now tattered fabric. “M-Maybe mother was right, maybe I am like father..” (Y/n) stammers, pulling away from the warmth of Taehyung slightly.

“Don’t say such things,” Jimin retorts with seriousness. “Jimin,” Taehyung murmurs, hating himself for what he’s about to do. “Please take (Y/n) to the manor, I must talk with uncle.”

It takes Taehyung a few moments for him to let go of (Y/n) before he stands and thanks his friend. Walking off through a pair trees and breaking into an instant sprint.

“Miss, can you walk?” Jimin asks, holding his arms in worry. (Y/n) tries her hardest to even stand but shes in so much shock and pain that she barely manages to lift a single finger.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers in defeat. A few droplets of tears hitting her cheeks, “don’t cry miss.” Jimin mutters, brushing the warm liquid away and holding her face in his hands for a spilt second before asking if he has permission to carry back to the manor.

It’ll take longer than normal, but its the only way he’ll have to do things.

“We’ll be inside in no time miss, now please no more crying and more smiling.” He mutters, caressing the apple of her glowing red cheek tenderly.

“Thank you Mr Park.”

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qhostqizmo · 4 years

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Five Senses: Essie

FIVE VISUALS

1. a serpent’s shed; most of it is intact but other areas are brittle, damaged, flaked away into soft mossy dirt beneath a tree in a lone meadow. the clearing is filled with flora, and a wide open sky; faded morning sunlight cast through tree branches on one of the first warm days of spring. dewdrops glistening on grass blades. a dusty road-worn travel bag appears left behind at the base of the tree.

2. a smile; soft, uneasy, but luminescent. it is like a newborn sun; warm and caring, casting its gentle rays and sunbeams of light upon a world only beginning to prosper life.

3. a small library. old books with frayed edges; some are dirty, or have stains that look reminiscent of old bloodstains. the binding on others are in bad shape. even the ones that look promising of lovely tales have jagged scars and strike-outs on some pages and phrases. the newer editions to the shelves however are beautiful; intricate pictures and designs, the pages glistening gold and splashes of color. you can feel the joy, the laughter, and love in the pages.

4. a pure snow-white dove flying across the sky after a storm, with a faded rainbow in the distance. a symbol of innocence, purity, and justice. it gives the sensation of hope and beauty at the end of a long journey or war. you think you see something tied to its leg. a treaty perhaps tied upon it; a message to end suffering and begin compromise and unity.

5. a fire; crackling and burning along a majestic figure. the phoenix reborn again; a never-ending cycle. its eyes are haunting. it has seen things. been stricken blows that would fatally kill any other. when it spreads its wings, it can not fly. not yet. there is pride in its posture. promise in the way it watches over its territory protectively.

FOUR SOUNDS

1. footfalls crunching along the road. it is constantly changing beneath foot; sometimes stone, sometimes leaves, sometimes grass, dirt, or eerie silence. occasionally it falters, but it is always moving; backwards, forwards, to and away. the world is a blur of background noise against it.

2. the humming of lullabies and songs joining a jewelry box tune, some you know and most you don’t. it can be melancholy and filled with pain, or it can be ringing and filled with hope and pleasant memories. it is better not to ask about the loneliness that rings in your ears after its gone.

3. a thunderstorm outside of your window; the sort that is calming and gentle, puttering against the walls as a quiet rumble echoes against a darkened night sky. despite the threat, there is security of being indoors and away from what once left a sense of fear in your heart. sleep-sounds and mumbled words and quiet snoring against wrestling sheets of movement as two bodies toss and turn to get comfortable against each other.

4. his voice; worn and ragged, standing out against other recognizable tones against the background. laughter; free and joyous. this room is filled with clanking glasses and chatter of friends. his still stands out though; honey-whisky, steel, and crackling embers against wood. you feel holy in its presence. safe. warm. loved. wanted. its all you’ve ever longed for, and more. “Stay.”

THREE SCENTS

1. the same shades of perfume in different mixologies, but the results offer similar effects. fruity; apple, pomegranate, pear, a berry blend, or cherry. these mingle with flowers; lavender, gardenia, lily, jasmine, orchid or hyacinth. a little childlike, a bit sugary sweet, and a touch of vanilla. this one has a rainy odor that brings you back to days better left forgotten. this one is more rose-y, it reminds you of a cologne that reminds you of something... romantic.

2. rusty, metallic odors; dank and musty. the hair on the back of your neck stands up. its not safe here. sulfur. death. rot. explosives. magic; atmospheric, good or bad, everything is too much, its blinding your nostrils, making eyes sting. war. its difficult to breathe.

3. the faded scent of water against stronger notes of pine trees and dirt and moss. one home lost, one home gained. there is chocolate in the air; and a market filled with baked goods that you zero in on, stomach aching for a nibble. clean linens cling to you. damp cobblestone. its home. its home. you’re home.

TWO TASTES

1. liquor; rum, wine, ale, shots. you drowned in it earlier, you sip on it now. spicy, sweet, bitter, tangy. drinks meant to be savored, drinks meant to mend, drinks meant to be had for unions and quiet dates. tingling tastebuds. intermingling flavors; his sharp ale kiss to your syrupy fruit mead.

2. chocolate. chocolate, chocolate, chocolate; its in the flaky crust of your bread, its in the melted goe you stuff in your mouth, its in the pudding, the lava cake, the shavings on your coco. you remind yourself its the little things. each bite reminds you of your mothers words to savor it. you do.

ONE TOUCH

1. heartbeat to heartbeat, hand to hand, chest to chest. is it passion? is it an embrace? human-to-human contact. how you missed it so. tears in your eyes, warm skin touching skin. fingers carding through hair. bliss. serenity. you cave in to it, closing your eyes. this is your dream; to be loved despite sins and differences. you feel it coursing in your veins as a palm travels your spine. you are found.

#Essatha Meduza #Essie Aesthetic

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katymacsupernatural · 5 years

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If Only In Dreams Part 2

Dean Winchester x Reader

Story Summary: You are a fairy who has the special ability to visit dreams. Charged with visiting the dreams of Dean Winchester to fill a prophecy, things are a lot more than Y/N bargained for.

Catch Up Here: Part 1

So I was just going to make a part 2. But this story had other ideas, and I’m thinking it might have around five instead.

3 years later

Blood was all you could see. Covering literally every surface of what had once been a safe haven. Men, woman, every age of fairy had not been spared. Bodies were strewn about, their faces frozen in horror at what they had just witnessed.

"Ailsa!" You cried your daughter's name. It echoed through the silence. You cried it over and over again, searching the small clearing in the forest, finding no evidence of your daughter.

As you rounded the corner of your small clay hut, a hand reached out, stopping you. "Aine!" You exclaimed, dropping to your knees. Your leader was already under a large pine tree, her dress shredded and covered in dirt and blood. Blood was pooling underneath her from a large wound in her stomach.

You reached into your pouch, pulling out the magical dust that you kept for emergencies. But Aine shook her head, pushing weakly against your hand. "No, keep it. I'm too far gone."

"What happened?" You asked. "Wheres Ailsa?"

Aine closed her eyes, and for a moment you worried she was gone. "Demons. They were searching. The knew of the prophecy! Find Dean. Only he will be able to find your daughter."

With shaking hands, Aine placed her pouch in your hand, pushing it to you before her eyes fluttered closed and she left you alone. The last fairy on earth.

You wanted to take care of the dead. They deserved a proper burial, but all you could think about was your daughter. She was out there, all alone, in the hands of Demons. Who knew what they would do to her.

Aines last words had you thinking. She had mentioned Dean, a man who invaded your thoughts on a daily basis. You hadn't seen him since that night, and more than once you had thought about visiting his dreams. But Aine had made you promise not to. And you respected her too much to go against her wishes.

With tears in your eyes, you took your meager belongings, growing them in a bag. Glancing at the dead bodies lying everywhere, you whispered a spell. Blending into the trees, you could hear the ground moving, the trees growing. No longer was it a clearing. The forest had taken over once again, burying the bodies for you.

You were in the middle of the Washington forest. Miles away from any civilization. But you had a secret up your sleeve. Most fairies couldn't fly. You weren't born with wings or floated around like in Peter Pan. But magic, old magic passed down from the ancients made it easy to travel short distances.

Before long you were in the small town of Chelan. It was still early in the morning, people just starting their day. You caught a couple of teenage girls staring your way, and you glanced down at yourself in concern.

Your light purple skirt had blood and grass stains. Your tank top hadn’t faired much better. Your hands were caked in Aine’s blood. Your hair was matted, and you knew you couldn’t go on looking like this. Wishing you could just magic away all the stains, you turned yourself invisible instead, heading straight for the thrift store.

A couple skirts, shirts, shoes, and the other necessities found their way into your bag. Tossing your stained clothes in the dumpster, you let yourself be seen again, this time much cleaner. But you still had no idea where to go. How to find Dean and your daughter.

It would help if Aine had told you more about the prophecy. But she had kept quiet about it, telling you little bits and pieces when it had been necessary. Sinking down on a bench, you realized how screwed you were. You had magical powers, weak ones at that. They wouldn’t help you find your daughter. Or know what was in the prophecy.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you angrily brushed it away. You could slip into Dean’s dream, but you had no idea if he was sleeping. Instead, you forced yourself to walk to the bus station, buying a ticket away from here. Towards Kansas, where you had once known him to be.

The bus ride was tedious. Completely full of strangers, you were forced to sit beside a large man who constantly sent glances your way. You could feel his interest and lust wafting off of him, and you wanted to move to another seat. But they were all taken, so you were forced to stay.

It was almost three hours into the ride before he made his move. His meaty hand landed on your thigh, his nasty breath annoying your sense of smell. “Hey, there beautiful. You might be more comfortable sitting on my lap.”

Rather than waste words arguing, you sent a quiet spell through the air. His hand slipped from your leg, his head hit the window with a thud, hopefully sleeping for the rest of the trip.

The trip gave you time to think. About the prophecy. About your daughter. But most of all, about Dean. How he would react if you found him.

"Last stop!" The bus driver called out, and you scurried out of the bus before the large man woke up.

You had no idea what to do next. You had money and could conjure more if needed. But you hated using magic for things like that.

Instead, you found a secluded picnic table at a closed restaurant. Sitting down, you closed your eyes, focusing your energies. It was always easier to visit dreams when you were close and had something of theirs. But you had nothing but your memories, and you focused on them.

Seconds ticked by and you began worrying that it wasn't going to work. Or that he was still asleep. But finally you found that golden tunnel, and you walked down it.

Suddenly the golden light was gone, and you were standing in a cluttered living room. Books filled every space, some half opened others with scraps of paper as bookmarks.

You didn't recognize this place. It had to be the wrong…

"Y/N?" Dean's voice rang out through the empty room. "Is that...Is that really you?"

Slowly you turned around, bracing yourself as you saw him for the first time in three years. He had changed, much as you had expected him to. The years hadn't been kind. He was still ruggedly handsome, but there were more lines on his face. His eyes were narrower, some of that carelessness gone. "Hi Dean," you spoke softly, wanting to reach out and touch him.

"Where have you...I don't get it," he stuttered, trying to find the right words. "Y/N, you vanished. "You're a figment of my imagination, and you vanished. I tried calling you back but you...what are you?"

"Can we sit?" You asked, pointing to the ugly, faded brown couch.

He nodded, eyeing you warily.

"Where are we?"

He glanced around, almost as if he didn't know where his dream had taken him. "Bobby's house."

You wanted to ask him who Bobby was. It had to be a strong connection for Dean to be dreaming about his house. But that's not what mattered right now.

Taking a deep breath, you reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. It hurt, but you understood.

"Y/N, it's been three years," he muttered. "Unless you have a good explanation…,"

"I'm a fairy!" You exclaimed. "I was ordered to visit your dreams because of a prophecy."

He seemed blindsided by your admission, but he quickly regained control. Standing up, he placed the small area in front of the couch. "A freaking fairy? I thought they were...smaller."

"Some can be. I'm not one," you answered. "Dean, can we talk in person, please? I need your help."

"You came back to me after three years, telling me you're a fairy and you let me fuck you because of some sort of prophecy. And now you want to meet in person? I'm not that stupid sweetheart."

Blinking back tears, you tucked your feet under you, sighing deeply. "Dean, they killed my entire family. I'm the only fair left. Besides our daughter, but they have her."

"Daughter?" He choked. "There cant be a daughter! It was just in my dreams!"

You shook your head. "Dreams I visit work differently. They're very real. I'm so sorry to dump this all on you, but I have nowhere else to turn."

He sank back down, staying as far away from as possible. "If this didn't happen, would you have told her about me?" He asked, but you could tell he wasn't sure he believed you.

"I don't know," you answered truthfully. "I wanted to so bad, but I wasn't allowed to."

"This is too much," he muttered, brushing his hand through his hair. "First you show up, tell me you're a fairy and that we conceived a daughter together in my dreams. And she’s been kidnapped by Demons."

You shook your head emphatically. "Yes. It sounds weird, I know. But it's true."

"Sweetheart, my whole life is about weird," he sighed. "But I do know you cant be a figment of my imagination. So I will give you this. But try anything…,"

"Nothing! I promise!"

"Fine. Where are you?"

"Some town in Kansas," you answered. "I didn't know where you were."

He took a piece of paper from the end table, scrawling an address on it. "Meet me here. We'll talk, and I'll see if I really believe you."

Suddenly he was gone, and you were sitting up at the picnic table, relieved that Dean was at least giving you a chance.

Dean/Jensen Tags:@acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @bebravekeeponfighting @brindz30 @cap-just-said-language @colette2537 @deansgirl215 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller @krys198478 @librarygeekery @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @mrspeacem1nusone @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algud @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @chelsea072498 @closetspngirl @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 @gh0stgurl @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99 @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @lifelovelaughangell123 @li-ssu @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @maui137 @mogaruke @musiclovinchic93 @nanie5 @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing @samanthaharper2018 @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @superbadassnatural @thatcrazybookwormgeek @thewinchesterchronicles @vvinch3st3r @wecantgiggleitsafandom @whimsicalrobots @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen

#if only in dreams #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #katy writes #supernatural fanfiction #dean x y/n #dean #reader insert #spn fanfic

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feed-the-birdss · 5 years

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Take Me Away

Thank you so much to @blitheringmcgonagall and @jilystar04 who tagged me in the Motivation Monday yesterday. It really helped me to finish this. Also, a thanks to @petals-to-fish and @flippin-fins who are another two big motivators of mine!!

Author’s Note: I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus due to a mixture of travelling, birthday festivities and health reasons. However, I’ve had this idea for a while now, and I really wanted to share it before I leave for my next big trip. I hope you all enjoy, and it’s loosely based on the song “Cowboy Take Me Away” by the Dixie Chicks.

Read it on Fanfic

The flat was quiet—too quiet. There were pieces of parchment scattered all over the floor accompanied with the occasional ink blot. Opened and half-empty containers were strewn across the countertops and tabletops of the kitchen with labels like “Aconite”, “Ginger”, “Frog Brain”, “Dragon’s Blood” and “Boomslang”. On the stove was a large pewter cauldron with purple steam billowing out of it. And on the window ledge, with an empty wine glass on the floor next to her sat Lily Evans. Her knees were tucked in close to her chest, with an elbow resting on one knee, and her head in her hand.

Her dark and puffy green eyes were wearily following the movements of the grey clouds in the sky searching for even the smallest sign of sunshine. It’s been so cold and rainy lately, thanks to the dementors, that she’s forgotten what the sun looked like. Even it if it were sunny outside, she doubts she would be enjoying it. She’s either in the flat working on potions for the Order, under James’ invisibility cloak running after and spying on likely Death Eaters, or so focused on duelling a Death Eater and escaping death that her surroundings are not even noticeable to her.

Lily misses the earth. When she was little, she was always playing outside. Her mother and sister would often berate her for her constantly dirty dresses. Yet, little Lily would frolic bare-footed in the green grass and dirt without a care in the world. Now she’s lucky if she has the time to take a simple stroll through a park with shoes on.

Severus and she used to lie under the large Elm tree by her house and make the falling leaves magically race each other to the ground. Lily once begged her mother to let her and Severus camp out there for the night, but Rose Evans wouldn’t even hear of it. She never trusted that “Snape boy”, and while Lily always believed that was Petunia’s influence, her mother’s concerns ended up being spot-on in that regard.

However, camping was sounding pretty great to Lily right about now. She could finally take the chance to just touch the earth and feel it in her hands without worrying about the Death Eater throwing killing curses at her every second. She could frolic among the wild and unruly plants like she used to when she was a little girl. The corners of her lips started to quirk up at the thought.

Right at that moment, the unmistakable sound of someone apparating outside the door met Lily’s ears which was proceeded by her and James’ secret knock. Lily went up to the door and asked through it, “Who is Luke Skywalker’s father?”

“Darth Vader,” asserted James.

Lily undid the lock and opened the door to find James pointing his wand at her with a teasing smirk on his face. He never could take this security measure seriously. “Who was your best shag?” he asked confidently.

“Sirius, obviously,” Lily responded with a smirk that echoed the one that quickly vanished from his face at her response.

“Not funny Evans,” he pouted.

“Well you know what Dumbledore said last meeting, the Death Eaters have Sev—uhh—well, their own Potions Master, and we should be prepared for the possibility that they’re making Polyjuice Potion,” she sighed, turned around and headed to the kitchen to check on her potion.

James was going to continue whinging about her cruel joke, but once she brought up her ex-best friend’s current activities, he thought better of it and followed her into the kitchen. “Fine, I’ll ask a better question. When was our best shag?” He asked with the smirk back on his face as he walked up to Lily, whose head was bent over the cauldron, and put his arms around her waist.

Lily rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile that was creeping up on her face, “You’re such a prat,” she said as she turned around in his arms, put her arms up to his neck, and reached her face to kiss his. James greedily returned the kiss, pulling her even closer against him and lifting up her shirt a little so that his hands were touching the soft skin of her waist. Lily’s hands moved from the nape of his neck into his messy black hair as she sucked on his bottom lip.

Just as James’ hands were about travel South in order to pick her up and carry her to their bed, a gentle tapping noise interrupted them. Both of them turned their heads toward the noise to see Sirius’ owl, Owl, at the window with a slip of parchment attached to its claw. Lily detached from James, and as she walked over to the window she said, “And our best shag was that time a few months ago on Remus’ bed.”

“Too right, it was,” James smiled and sighed, “And yet, Remus couldn’t find it in him to be happy for us.”

“Well love, to be fair, I mean, you still give Sirius shit for shagging uh…whats-her-name, on your bed in sixth year.”

“Yeah, well, this was me and you, a couple Remus loves and knows dearly. Sirius fucked a stranger he hasn’t spoken to since. There’s a difference.”

Lily rolled her eyes, an occurrence that happens quite a lot whenever she’s around James, as she opened the window and untied the scroll from the Owl’s leg.

James—me and Remus are going to Hog’s Head for drinks with a few other members tonight, are you and Lily in? (Peter’s a no-show…again…bloody rat)

Lily quickly read the note and handed it over to James with a sigh. She loved everyone in the order dearly, she honestly didn’t know what she would do without them in this mess of a war, but she needed something different right now. Going to the Hog’s Head for drinks was the only fun thing order members could do together without drawing attention to themselves and blowing their cover; so they do it quite often.

“Do you want to go Lils?” asked James.

Just as Lily was about to, begrudgingly, say yes, she remembered something, and her eyes glimmered with excitement as she looked at James, “James, I’m going to go camping,” she stated.

“Okay….so…uh…wait, is that a ‘no’ to the drinks then?” baffled James with furrowed brows.

“Yes.”

“So…’yes’ to the drinks?” he puzzled again.

Lily rolled her eyes, “For someone who got seven NEWTs, you’re awfully dense sometimes. It’s a ‘no’ to the drinks, because tonight, we’re packing up and getting ready to go camping tomorrow morning.”

James’ brows were still furrowed in confusion, and his mouth kept opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know what to say. To Lily’s relief, he finally uttered something, “Can you just repeat that please, and maybe offer me some, like, well, much-needed context?”

“Uh..right, that’s probably a good idea. So, again, no to drinks because we are going to camping tomorrow morning. Why are we going camping—well, because I need this James. I need this.” James’ look softened at the desperation in her voice, “I have been going mad lately. I feel like my whole world has just become running into battles, hiding from Death Eaters and potions. I want to experience the earth again.”

“You want to experience the earth again?” James asked with a teasing smirk.

“Fuck yes. Make fun of it all you want. I know it sounds cheesy, but I know you know what I mean James Potter. Like…don’t you miss the earth? We’re in bloody London all the damned time. I mean…you haven’t gone out with Remus and the boys for a full moon in months. You can’t not tell me you’re not going a little mad here,” Lily ranted. “I want to just walk through a forest, where there’s no building in site, only trees and grass, and leaves. I want it to just be me for miles and miles.”

“What about me?”

Lily smiled and put her arms around his waist, “I guess I want you there too. Merlin knows I don’t really want to experience this earth again without your smile there with it,” she assured pressing a light kiss to his lips.

“What about the cold?”

“The stars will be our blanket,” teased Lily

“Uh…what?”

“James, are you a wizard or not? We can handle the actual camping parts of this magically.”

“Right,” nodded James in agreement. Yet something in the stiffness of his body, and the slight furrow left in his brows told Lily he was still hesitant. Come to think of it, James has been acting kind of shady like this for the past few weeks.

“Do you not want to?”

“No, it’s not that at all. I think I need this just as much as you,” he assured, “it’s just that, I mean, well we had those special dinner plans for tomorrow night.”

“We can cook ourselves a nice dinner tomorrow night love.”

James sighed, and nodded slowly, “That’s true I guess.”

“Don’t you want to go flying love? I want to ride your broom. I haven’t done it in so long.”

James smirked, “I want you to ride my broom too Evans.”

Lily ignored the obvious innuendo in his statement, and said “Great, let’s get packing then.”

“Um, right okay, I’ll go cancel those reservations and the…uh some other stuff, and I’ll let Dumbledore and the order know we’re going to take the next few days off.”

The next night, after a day of frolicking in the grass, walking and not running, and flying in a clear blue sky without a building in sight, Lily was snuggled within the comfort of James’ arms under a blanket of stars. The sound of their laughter played in harmony with the chirping crickets and the rustling of the leaves as the wind breezed through them. She and James always manage to have fun together, but this was different. They could have fun without worrying for right now. Even after their day on his broom, she hasn’t felt this free since she found out she was a witch, and she’s never felt closer to James than she had on this day.

After bickering and laughing about whether or not the dog star was named as such because it’s twinkle was kind of shaped like a dog, Lily turned her head towards his and asked, “So are you finally ready to tell me why you’ve been acting shady the past few weeks?”

James chuckled and sighed happily, “You know what…yeah, I actually am.” He turned his head to meet her eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” smiled Lily moving her head in for a kiss, but James used the arm she was lying on to lift a very confused Lily up on to her feet instead.

Once they stood face to face, stars still twinkling above them, surrounded by only trees, grass, flowers and wildlife, James’ hands lightly against Lily’s waist, did James say, “I originally wanted to do this after that dinner we were supposed to have tonight at this fancy muggle restaurant in London, where after I was going to take you to Hog’s Head with all of our friends waiting there.” Lily was starting to see where this was going, and her eyes widened. “Once we got there, Sirius was going to start playing that muggle love song you love so much by that Elvin guy on that mini guitar thing I begged him to learn how to play,” her widened eyes softened with her chuckle and started to glisten with tears, “then I was going to get down on one knee,” James got down on one knee, “pull out my grandmother’s ring,” James pulled out his grandmother’s ring, “and say this: ‘This war is the worst thing that has ever happened to the wizarding world, and yet, you still manage to keep me smiling. Do me the honor of making me smile for the rest of my life, and let me do the same for you. Lily Evans, will you marry me?’”

Just as Lily was about to respond, James snapped the box shut, got up and said with a smirk, “It’s too bad you wanted to go camping instead.”

Lily’s mouth opened in shock, “James!” she exasperated punching him in the arm.

James laughed, “I’m kidding Lils! Only kidding! This place is a way better spot for a proposal…how’d you put it again? Blanket of stars? Now that’s just pure poetry. So this is really the best possible place for you to agree to put up with my shit forever,” he teased, “so what do you say Evans?” he asked opening the ring box once again, “Will you continue to put up with my shit for all eternity?”

Lily rolled her eyes, “Sounds good to me,” she said with a smile as she jumped into his arms and proceeded to kiss him.

#jily #jily canon #jily fanfic #jily fanfiction #jily fic #james x lily #james potter #lily evans #lily potter #jily fandom #camping #surprise #dixie chicks #cowboy take me away #feeding birds

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mordenheim · 5 years

Text

Dr. Mordenheim’s Travels, Book 1: De Writer’s Equestria, Ch. 1

Dr. Victor Mordenheim has traveled to many different realities in his many centuries of existence. This series, which I shall add to from time to time, will explore some of them, beginning with the world of @ask-de-writer.

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The tall, slender zebra staggered his way through the tangled undergrowth of the Everfree forest. Dead branches tangled in his mane, tugging his head back and even clawing at his eyepatch as he trudged onward, pausing occasionally to make sure he still had his saddlebags. He had been wandering for what seemed like days as the paths constantly shifted and changed direction as he traveled. Once in a while he would follow a seemingly straight path and end up passing the same tree several times. Other times he would take a sharply curving route that seemed to circle back on itself, only to end up in an entirely different location.

It was still mostly dark when he finally pulled himself free from the brambles and stumbled into a small clearing. The broken and crumbling remains of an old castle stood before him, however this particular castle was somewhat odd. From the rubble he could see that various different types and colors of stone were used to construct its walls and towers. Each tower also seemed to once have a different type of roof. A rounded spire on one, a flat top where he spied the rotting remains of an open wooden trap door. Prodding at the walls with a hoof, the remaining stone seemed solid and sturdy. Perhaps this would be a place he could fix up to stay for a while.

Around the front there was a short path that lead to a small building. It had perhaps been a guard house or a small barracks at one time. A few old, broken benches sat inside as well as various shelves and racks along the walls, all covered in dust and cobwebs. However, through the front he saw the most welcoming sight of all. No more than ten feet from the front door was an actual cobblestone road and the faint pink light of the rising sun on the horizon. He had finally found his way out of this forsaken forest.

He had followed the road to the east for a short way before he stopped, confused. He could see the outskirts of Ponyville up ahead, yet that town had ever only had a simple dirt road between it and the Everfree. When had they built such a fine road, he wondered to himself. As well as pondering just how long he actually had been lost in the wood. He was well aware that time passed strangely in the Everfree, and space itself seemed warped and broken.

Making sure his saddlebags were still secure and doing his best to get the worst of the burrs out of his fur he trotted into Ponyville proper. As he looked around he could see that quite a few things had changed while he had been lost. The buildings seemed different, more colorful and sturdier in build. The roads were solid and well-maintained and the trees and grasses trimmed and cared for. All of this, however, was quickly wiped from his mind as the scent of delicious cooking wafted past his nose, causing his empty stomach to clench painfully and give a low growl.

Trotting along the street, following his nose he soon came upon a smallish building with a sign out front sitting across from a well maintained park. “Caramel Treat’s Sweets” was a lovely little restaurant and certainly the source of the delicious aromas. He paused outside of the door for a moment. It was not yet full dawn and most eateries that he knew of only operated from dawn to dusk, or from lunch hour until late.

He was starting to draw a few stares from early risers as he waited until full dawn. He rolled his eye as several ponies opened their door to set about their of business, laid their eyes on him, and immediately slammed their doors, peeking through window shades. He rubbed at his eyepatch as he sighed, he was well used to this reaction by now. He only hoped that his patronage would be accepted at this little restaurant or who knows how long he would have to wait to eat. He might even have to brave the pink whirlwind that inhabits Sugarcube Corner. He shuddered at the thought.

He need not have worried, though. Just a few moments later the door opened wide and a young caramel colored mare with a blonde mane stepped into view. She started to speak but quickly changed her tune a bit when she spied a zebra the size of a Rom horse on her doorstep! “What a beautiful.. Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had a customer already!”

Victor was pleasantly stunned by the warm response! He smiled, careful not to show his sharp teeth as he lowered himself into a graceful bow, “Good mornin’ to ye. I was just wondering if you were open yet for the day. I’ve been traveling a long distance and would like to rest my weary bones for a bit and purchase a meal.”

Caramel’s ear twitched a bit. The zebra’s voice was deep and rich, but that certainly was not a Zebrican accent. She smiled and nodded, trotting back into the restaurant, “Of course, of course, please, come right in!”

The huge zebra smiled and entered the restaurant, ducking his head as he entered more out of habit than anything. The inside was well-lit and high-ceilinged with several tables, chairs, a small bar, even pillows to sit on here and there. He trotted over to the bar so he would be a bit away from the windows and pulled over a soft pillow to rest upon. His old joints creaked as he lowered himself, grateful that he finally got a chance to relax.

Caramel trotted over with a glass of ice water and a menu. Setting the glass down, she placed the menu in his hooves. She sniffed at the air, seeming to be sniffing at her own cooking when an odd look crossed her face. She blinked once, then smiled knowingly at her huge guest, “Just let me know when you’re ready to order. I should be able to hear you just fine.” She leaned in with a soft whisper and mentioned, “If you need any items towards the back of the menu, just let me know, I’ll need to move you in case of other guests, but we will gladly help you here.”

Victor was a bit taken aback by the strange look, but the gentle smile afterwards seemed to reassure him. He blinked a bit, curious about what she meant by items towards the back, but he decided he would check the entire thing anyway. He had just about decided on a dish called clovertop scramble with vegetable fries and something called Rom black tea when he flipped to the back of the menu. His eyebrows raised as he saw the page filled with meat options. Fried or baked fish, roasted chicken, even bacon! He had to lift a napkin to his mouth to hide, and soak up the drool. Shaking his head, he looked up from the menu, wondering how she could have known.

Making up his mind, he decided it might be best to take it easy on his system after having not eaten for so long. He called out to her and placed his order. A clovertop scramble, a bit of dry toast instead of the fried vegetables, and a cup of Rom black tea sounded perfect. In mere minutes, she had brought out the delicious-smelling food and placed it before him. He thanked her and slowly tucked into his meal.

Every bite was wonderful. A slight bit of black pepper and a tang of salt gave the scramble an incredible flavor, every fluffy bite seeming to melt in his mouth. The toast, in spite of being dry as he requested, was crisp and flavorful, a perfect pairing to the scramble. The tea was unlike anything he had tasted before. Spicy and floral with a soft bit of warmth underlying everything. In spite of trying to take his time, it was mere moments before he was using the last corner of toast to wipe his plate clean.

He smiled contentedly, remarking how wonderful everything was as Caramel Treat trotted back over to the bar. He paid his fee and tipped a single golden bit. Caramel looked at the coins a little oddly as she hadn’t seen any quite like these before. They were real, the right weight and metals, but the imprints were odd to her. The copper coin had an image of a phoenix in repose, the silver a long, slender dragon or sea serpent curling around the edge, while the golden coin was the most interesting. Both front and back bore an intricate Celtic knot design around the edge. The front bore an image of two hooves grasping a heart topped by a crown while the rear bore the motto “Friendship, Loyalty, Love” struck into the soft metal.

He tilted his head to the side as he watched her studying the coins, “Is something wrong? Did I need to do some sort of money exchange before paying?”

Caramel shook her head, “No, there’s no problem. I’ve just never seen coins like this before.”

Victor nodded, “Ah, that explains it. They’re from my home country, Shireland. I’ve picked up other coins in my travels, but the majority of them are still from home. I have a question for you, though.”

She nodded as she got her explanation for the odd coins, but then it was her turn to be curious about his questions. He leaned in close, still smiling but this time feeling comfortable enough to let his oddly sharp, interlocking teeth show a bit as he whispered, “How could you tell I might be interested in the items in the back of your menu?”

She grinned in return, pointing a hoof up to a sign above the bar, central in the restaurant for every creature to see. On it were depicted the images of two large wolves with the text “If you have any problem with any customer of ours for any reason, be it race, kind, species, belief or any other reason at all, PLEASE LEAVE. We bite, HARD!”. She winked and said, “I think that’s a pretty good likeness of myself and Fangrin.”

Victor’s jaw almost hit the bar! To find not just one, but two creatures similar to himself was amazing! He smiled even more pleasantly and reached out to gently take her hoof, bowing his head once more. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. I will be sure to stop back very often, indeed. In the meantime, however. It’s been a very long time since I’ve visited ponyville and it seems a lot has changed over the years. Do you know of anyplace nearby where I might be able to get cleaned up and make myself a bit more presentable?”

Caramel smiled and nodded, shaking his hoof in return. “Sure, the Ponyville Day Spa is right down the road in the town square! Just tell Lotus Blossom and Aloe Vera that Caramel sent you and they’ll fix you right up and even give you a nice discount!”

Smiling brightly, he thanked the mare once more for her wonderful meal and her company before trotting out of the door. His spirits lifted, he held his head up high as he made his way towards the town square! Perhaps Ponyville had changed for the better after all!

#MLP #text #story #mordenheim #pony #ask-de-writer

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