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shiny-jr · 4 years

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❝ 𝒴𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝓇 𝒴𝑒𝓈 ❞

Yandere!Hunter x Reader - Dante Senguri

The plot of this one shot is from an old series of mine, it is based off of a small story called "The Most Dangerous Game.” Dante Senguri is my own character!

“Yes or yes?”

"Just a bit longer, and you'll be back in the wild." You purred to the young striped tiger that lazed at your feet, stroking the predator's cheek and tracing your fingers to his ear where you scratched gently. Listening to the content purrs of the large cat.

This large feline friend was Tony. A tiger that had been merely a cub shot by hunters in the jungles and left to perish and die. But before he could bleed to death, you and your crew discovered the poor creature in a pool of his own blood. Sedating the young predator until he passed out, you and your crew began to get to work in order to patch up the tiger temporarily at least until he could be treated properly. He was taken to a larger metropolis where more could help him. There he resided at the zoo for a good while with you as his caretaker. But after he had fully healed and he was now old enough to live on his own, it was time to release him back into the wild where he belonged. Which is why you were currently on a boat to the jungle where he had been found, you currently sat in the lowest deck with Tony.

Tony perked up when the sound of sliding metal could be heard. You stood as did Tony as well, stepping out as you watched the tiger remain fixated on a contraption that taught him how to capture his meal. The large piece of meat swung back and fourth on the hook, all around the room just as Tony took off to pounce.

Bolting the iron door shut behind you so no poor wandering sailor would stumble upon Tony. You walked away and made your way up the flight of stairs onto the main deck. Once there your fingers trailed across the railings as you watched the seemingly endless vast waves of the ocean drift in the dark of the night underneath the stars that dotted the sky above. In your hand you examined the pocket knife you had recieved from the zookeepers where Tony had stayed at. The handle was a normal steel but shiny gold colored carvings were engraved in it, depicting the faces of many different animals. From prey to predators, lions to birds, wolves to deer, etc.

It was a sweet parting gift from the kind people there. One gift you would not give up to anyone.

When the loud blasting horn from the ship you were on signaling dinner rang out, it startled you and caused you to released your grip on the pocket knife. You lunged for it. A short quiet cry emitted from your lips when you realized you had reached too far out and lost your balance. Your cry was drowned out by the horn and you tumbled into the crashing waves.

Struggling and paddling to the surface, you gasped for breath and desperately tried to call out for help. But you were slapped in the face with a wave of salty water from the moving boat, pushing you down under for a few precious moments. The taste of the waves left you gagging, but you tried swiminging towards the moving boat. Further and further away, the chance was slim of you even reaching the swift boat or even being heard over the waves and horn. Still you yelled as loud as you could, keeping yourself afloat. But no one heard you. Quickly the boat's lights receded into the darkness of the night, until they were bleached out entirely into a night as dark as ink.

You were stranded. Stranded in the middle of the ocean. With nothing. No food, no water, no mode of transportation. Just the clothes you wore and a pocket knife. You remained afloat in silence, terrified of what was to come. Until you heard a sound. A familar sound that brought a wave of relief washing over you. The sound of far away waves crashing onto a surface, a shore of some kind. You heard it, distant but it was still there. So you swam towards the sound, not quick and panicked but slow and carefully strokes to save your energy for whatever awaited you.

Slowly but surely you approached the island, and saw the silhouettes of the land. Trees, jagged rocks, and other plants. Reaching the shore, you coughed and sat up. Looking all around you for any signs of civilization, but there was none you could spot.

Then there was a cry. A cry and scream of terror and anguish, complete pain and horror. It came from deep in the darkness. It frightened you, sending a shiver down your spine. Some kind of predator must've captured another animal. You did not recognize the cry, but you did not wish to at the moment. It would be best to avoid whatever it came from.

BAM!

The echo of a shotgun rang through the land. You weren't alone.

Your exhausted form stumbled up, sand falling from your skin back to the ground. If you took one step the sands would be gone and be replaced with the thick vegetation of the dense jungles. It was not safe to stay on the shores, you could easily be spotted. So you forced yourself into the jungle past the trees.

The gunshot meant there were people around. People meant there was food bound to be around. But the people. What kind of people would reside here? Where were you? On the shores of an island or bigger piece of land?

Cautiously you walked along between the jungle and shore, watching everything with each step you took. The plants were difficult to recognize but after only a couple of minutes, you stopped in your tracks after spotting something peculiar.

It was evident that a large creature had been in some trouble. Some of the plant life was crushed and trampled, while one patch of weeds were blotched with crimson. There were deep tracks in the damp earth, leading in the direction of the jungle. The glint of a shiny object reflecting the light of the moon caught your eye. Reaching down, you plucked it from the ground. An empty cartridge. This proved there was someone here and judging by what you have just seen, it wasn’t too long ago when they stood where you are currently standing.

The shell of the cartridge was rather small compared to the large tracks of the creature that had struggled here. Whoever had the gun tried to shot a fairly large creature with a small gun. You were puzzled and concerned. What exactly happened here?

Upon closer examination, you noticed a foot print. The print of some kind of boot most likely. The print pointed towards the jungle again. You had hope now, and a good reason to enter the depths of the jungle. Eagerly you hurried along, gripping the pocket knife in case anything came at you. Occasionally stumbling over a stray log or stone popping out of the earth. But making process as an edge of the sky began to turn lavender and the sun’s rays of light peaked out ever so slightly.

Yet after walking for who knows how long, against the fading darkness you spotted a glimmer of light. Those lights multiplied as you began to jog towards them. Closer and closer you got. At first it looked like a small village, but as you stepped closer you realized it wasn’t a village but a large estate. A mansion. A giant mansion situated on top of a large precipice with cliffs surrounding most of it, the cliffs dropping down on the shores and crashing waves with jagged rocks below.

Mirage. It must’ve been a mirage! Who in their right mind would build this mansion in a jungle island in the middle of the ocean?

Yet when you reached out to touch the gate, you felt the cold steel against your fingertips. It was real. This was no mirage. Slowly tugging on the gate, the steel door creaked open and you squeezed in. The cobblestone path led you to an elevated patio, cautiously you continued until you reached the towering doors. Reluctantly you tapped at the doors, waiting for someone to answer while placing away your pocket knife.

Your ears perked up, hearing footsteps on the other side. But the door remained closed. Again you knocked twice. Only then did the door fly open and you were nearly blinded by the bright golden lights. Additionally you were met face to face with a blonde middle aged made holding a revolver pointed directly at your forehead.

"U-Uh..." You gulped before slowly raising your hands, showing you had nothing. "I don't mean to intrude, but I fell off the boat I was traveling in. I ended up here...My name is (Y/n) (L/n) from (home country)."

The man's peircing menacing gaze did not change, never allowing the revolver to falter. He had heard you, but there were many threats on this island and who knew if you were trying to trick him or not?

"Allow them in, Joe. Don't keep them standing out there in the cold!"

A young man stepped down the last remaining steps from where he had stood to listen to you introduce yourself to the man names Joe. If you had stumbled inside this mansion and spotted the man before you, you would've mistaken him for a ghost or vampire. His skin tone and hair color was a white as snow, his strange eyes were a soft pink that was the same color as his plump lips. The man dressed in a fancy attire with a white ironed shirt, tailored black pants that reached to his ankle, and brown leather shoes of high quality.

Joe lowered the revolver and stepped to the side, opening the door wide open for you. The albino man walked away from the stairs and welcomed you inside. "It's such an honor to meet you, (Miss/Mister) (L/n)!" He took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your backhand. "I've been a fan of your work for years. Oh, where are my manners? I've yet to introduce myself. I am Dante Senguri." Dante waved off Joe who closed the door shut and walked off to the side while the albino returned his attention back on you. "I'm sorry if Joe frightened you. He's not the brightest but is the strongest, he's my guard and assistant. He's also mute. Again, sorry if he offended you in anyway."

"I see..."

"Here, I'm sure you must be fatigued after I heard what you've been through. You are just on time. Now I have you for company at dinner." The charming man smiled gently before requesting, "Joe, will you go get some extra clothes?"

Joe silently exited the room to go fulfil Dante's request. Leaving you and the albino alone for the meantime.

"They might be a tad bit large but it'll be better than your soaked clothing." Dante assured, escorting you to the giant dining hall.

The dining hall was stunning. The walls were lined and framed with antiques and portraits while a large chandelier hung from above. A fire place held the crackling flames that engulfed the pieces of wood. One side of the wall was nearly entirely stain glass with the moonlight reflecting through. In the middle of the room was a large oval shaped table surrounded by wooden chairs carved elequently and decorated with plush pillows. The table was clothed with a white linen and porcelein china was arranged neatly. Yet one thing caught your eye when you sat down on one seat and Dante pushed you in to the table.

High up on the wall above the antiques were a line of "decorations." Mounted heads of dozens of animals. Bears, buffalo, caribou, deer, lions, moose, rams, rhinoceros, tigers, wolves, etc. You scrunched up your nose in disgust and your eyes traveled further to the ivory of rhinocerous, skins and bones of tigers, tusks of elephants. All previously stated objects from animals were illegal to sell and own.

"You don't like them?" Dante inquired innocently, tilting his head in a way that matched a curious dog's mannerisms and habits.

Before you could answer, Joe walked in the room. With one hand he set down folded clothes onto a nearby chair for you to change into later. In his other hand he held a tray that carried rare and exquisite range of drinks that include wine, beer, champange, tea, coffee, etc.

"(Y/n), which drink do you prefer?" The albino questioned so Joe could serve you what you would want.

You responded with your prefered drink, and you recieved it much to your surprise. Next, you were served plates of multiple different kinds of foods. Appetizers, side dishes, the main dish, and a wide aray of desserts. Dante wasted no time in beginning his dinner, encouraging you to do the same. "Don't worry, (Y/n). Here at my home, we only eat the best. We feast like kings here. So go ahead, try something. Anything."

Hesitantly, you did. You spooned a few items onto your plate. Not able to help it, since you were starving and fatigued. As you began to dine, Dante kept the conversation going smoothly.

"Well, isn't it all divine?"

"Yes, actually. Better than anything I've ever tasted." You replied after slurping the bowl of soup you had and continuing to the other plates. Dante seemed to be a generally nice and welcoming man, yet there was one thing off about him. Whenever you happened to look up, you always found Dante gazing at you intensely...as if he was a predator and you were prey.

"Good to hear." The albino smiled, flashing his pearly teeth that were practically as white as his hair. When he finally looked away, he forked a piece of well-cooked meat and placed it on his tongue. Savoring the flavor and devouring it before he finally spoke again, "I've had something on my mind as of late, since I saw you at my door step. You must be curious about how I know you, yes? Well, ever since I was young I was fascinated with animals just as you are. Often I read your publications, articles, and books. Your work led me to my one true passion, (Y/n) (L/n), and that is hunting."

Right. Hunting. That explained all the severed animal heads and body parts decorating the walls. It took much not to utter something rude. "Of course. What a...an intriguing collection you have..." Again your eyes traveled over to the heads of the animals. One caught your eye and that was the head of an abnormally large American Bison. "That's quite a bison. I don't think I've ever seen one that large."

"Oh, that creature! Yes, he was a monster of a bison." Dante seemed pleased that you were curious in his oddities, delighted to tell you more of them. "It was nothing, that beast. Yes, it did fracture one of my bones but I took it down without anymore trouble." He smiled charmingly. He was trying to impress you, wasn't he? "The American Bison is child's play compared to other larger game. But! Here on this island, I challenge myself everday to hunt the most dangerous game of all." A glint shined in his eyes, reflecting his eagerness at the words he proclaimed to you.

The most dangerous game? What would that be? Obviously not the American Bison as stated before. Was it the large Grizzly Bears of the north? White Polar Bears of the poles? The African Rhinos with their sharp horns? Crocodiles with their wide jaws and sharp teeth? Could it be the Cape Buffalo which was widely known as the Black Death throughout Africa? Or the swift spotted Leopard? The wild maned Lion, the supposed king of the jungle? Maybe a massive and heavy hippo? The giant intelligent elephants? The common feral hog or wild boars of North America?

“The most dangerous game? So there are threatening creatures on this island?” You inquired curiously. If there actually were treacherous animals present on the land, you must have been lucky as to not run into any of them.

“The most vicious.” Dante nodded, taking a sip of the cocktail in his hand. “Only for the most prestige hunter.” Grinning confidently, referring to himself in such a boisterous manner. “Of course, I have to gather them and bring them here for the fun to begin.”

“What is it that you bring here?” Your interest was peaked. Maybe if you found out where the animals he got were from, you can prevent any more of the poor creatures being sent to this island to the slaughter. “Lions?”

Dante smiled, “No,” he said. “Lions ceases to interest me some time ago. There was no fun in hunting the felines anymore. They became predictable and repeatable, leaving me bored out of my mind. There was no thrill, no fun in it anymore. (Y/n), I live to fulfil my desires, and those desires include finding the perfect source for thrill and fun.”

It was when dinner was finished did Dante Senguri lead you through the hallways of his elaborate mansion. Allowing you to first change into something similar to what he wore, before showing you everything he had to offer. Presenting you the exhibit of rare items and objects he owned, while chatting to you.

“I invite you to join me on my hunt. It’s always been a dream of mine to have such delightful...company for the game.”

”But what is it that you-“

You were cut off by Dante who interjected, knowing full well what you were going to ask. “I’ll tell you, my fox, and only you.” Shushing you while placing a single finger in front of your lips while chirping in a cheerful and eager tone of voice, “You will be amazed, astonished even! I invented the most special and difficult way for the game of the hunt. A new sensation that sends thrills through me each time, a prey that will never get boring to hunt!”

”Alright...” You watched the albino man with suspicion and caution. Where exactly was this conversation going?

”Some men are creative. Born to be poets, authors, artists! There are some born in the luxurious life of comfort or the dirtiest slums for the beggars. Me? I was created to be the best hunter of all!” Dante exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he continued to proclaim, “When I was young, around the age of five, I was given a slingshot for my birthday. My parents expected me to shoot mockingbirds or canaries but I took down large pelicans, swans, and turkeys. They weren’t mad, they were amazed at my excellent accuracy. Then when I was only eight years old I killed my first crocodile. When I was drafted into the military it was such a boring experience, there were no animals to hunt. Yet it made me realize something later in life. I have hunted every animal known to man.”

Dante placed aside the empty glass cup, continuing to walk as he brought you along. Squeezing your shoulder lightly.

”After I got out of the army, I continued to hunt. Grizzlies in the east Rockies, Crocodiles along Africa’s rivers, Lions in the Savanna. All boring, boring, boring. I collected my belongings and left to the jungles in search of Jaguars, Ocelots, Pumas, Anacondas. Supposedly some of the most cunning and dangerous animals that reside in the Amazon. Boring. Even the newest animals were boring.” The albino sighed, “None of them stood a chance. They were no match for a hunter like me. My wits and strength was much more compared to them. It was a disappointment. I lied in my tent after hunting the puma for the fifth time, before I realized with terror that hunting was beginning to bore me! Hunting had been my life, so how was I supposed to live without the thrill of it? I did not want to break down and become a hollow version of my former self, if I lost my one passion. Don’t you feel the same?”

You thought about it for a moment. Losing your one true passion, and never getting a replacement. Losing your passion for caring and helping animals, and never getting it back. You didn’t even want to imagine that. So yes, you felt the same way. Nodding slowly in response.

Dante smiled down at you, twisting a strand of your hair between his fingers. “I have no desire to become hollow and dull. So I just had to figure out a way to spice up the hunt, there had to be a way. And there was. So I asked myself, why was the game no longer interesting? No longer thrilling or exhilarating? My fox, can you guess the answer?”

”No...I have no clue.”

”Hunting had ceased to be a challenge. It was too easy, and I always caught my prey. There is nothing more boring than perfection. No animal could provide that excitement anymore. That’s not my ego talking, that is fact. Animals have nothing but their limbs and instincts. Instinct can not compare to reason. When I realized this, I was devastated.”

You stopped in your tracks just as Dante had. Looking up at the albino, waiting for him to finish. What was his solution to his problems?

“The memories of my army days inspired me. It helped my passion to live on.”

”What was it? What in those memories inspired you?”

Dante Senguri smiled, as if overcoming the most troubling obstacles of all time and reaching his desired success. “There was one option. I had to invent a new game to hunt.”

You were absolutely baffled. A new animal? Was he insane? No one can just create a new animal! “You’re joking."

“You’re expression in amusing, my fox. But I have to tell you, I never joke about hunting. I needed a new animal. I found one. So I built this abode on the island I bought. This island is perfect with its array of jungle mazes, sloping hills, mosquito infested swamps-“

“What about the animal?”

”Oh, it provides me with the most excellent hunting in the world! No other game can compare to it. Everyday I hunt in the evenings, and I never grow bored. Because this game can match my wits and abilities.”

You blinked. No. He couldn’t be talking about...

”I aimed for the ideal game and I achieved it. Courage. Cunning. Reason. The game has it all and more to keep me entertained.”

“No animals reasons.” You interjected immediately, trying to distance yourself from the albino who simply pulled you closer.

“My precious fox, there is one that can.” He smiled at you and gently traced a finger along your cheek.

”You can’t-“

”Why not?”

”This is some sick joke.” You remarked. There was no way Dante was being serious.

“This is no joke. I am serious. It’s hunting-“

”That’s not hunting, what you’re doing is murder!” Immediately you pushed him away, you had to stay away from this murderous psychopath.

Dante laughed at your words before once again speaking to you, “I don’t wish to believe that a person as wonderful and ideal as you believes that human life is truly valuable. Surely your experiences in the wild-“

”Did not make me an insane murder with no proper logic,” You finished stiffly, standing your ground against Dante.

Dante continued to laugh, “How adorable! You really are endearing!” He gripped your shoulders, “You’re so experienced yet naive at the same time. So brave, so adventurous, so unique...You’re a diamond in the rough, a jewel among jewels! You’ll change your mind if you join me, my fox.”

”Thanks but no thanks, I’m not a murderer or a hunter, I’m a conservationist.”

”How rude.” Dante sighed sadly like a dejected child. “You turn down my generous offer and refer to me with that unappealing title. Life is for the strong, the weak are meant to perish. Weak are meant to give the strong pleasure. I am strong. I will use my gift. I will hunt anyone who washes up on my shores: Men, women, adults, children, American Natives, Asians, Africans, Hispanics, Whites...Now tell me, my treasured fox, are you the strong or the weak?”

You ignored the question and asked one of your own, “They’re humans. Have you no pity? No mercy?”

”It is precisely because they are humans. That is why I use them. They provide me thrill, fun, and pleasure. They can reason, they put up a fight, they are clever, they are dangerous.”

You had to get out of here. Aiming to knee the albino in his weakest spot, he caught your knee and scolded you. “Please, be civilized. This isn’t a bar fight, have some class.”

You stumbled back and glared at the man. “Civilized? Class? And you shoot down innocent people for fun?”

”So determined, so virtuous, so amusing~...I assure you, my fox, I treat my guests with the utmost of care and respect until their time comes. That would be horrible of me if I didn’t do so. Trust me, they receive good food and exercise until they’re in perfect game condition. You’ll see.”

”What do you mean...?”

”Tomorrow I’ll take you there. I’ll show you that they’re all right. But they’re not the most entertaining bunch. Just a few dozen, a crew mixed with Polynesians and Spanish men. Their ship crashed on my shores. Unfortunately, they’re a lesser lot. Most of them more accustomed to the decks of a boat out on the sea than compared to the green jungles. Except for a few, that is.

It’s a game. I suggest to them that we hunt. I give the prey a sack of food, a canteen of water, and a hunting knife. Then I allow them three hours to a head start while I prepare. I have only a small pistol. So if the game manages to avoid me and survive for three days, they win respectfully. But if I find them.” Dante smiled, “I win.”

”And if they refuse to participate in your ‘game’?”

“Of course I let them chose! What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t allow my guests to chose? But everyone chooses the game! No one wants to be handed over to Joe. He’s a savage that has his own ideas of fun.”

”What if they win?”

Dante smirked confidently as he mused, “Well, no one has ever bested me.” Then he added swiftly, “Don’t think me rude or cocky. I’m simply sure none of the previous prey could have won in anyway they tried. There was one man who almost won. But I had to use the hounds to secure my victory.”

He gestured to the wall, showing you a picture of the hounds. In the picture he stood in the back, in front of him sitting in a line was a large pack of dogs. Labrador Retrievers, Beagles, American Foxhounds, Pointers, English Setters, Dobermans, Rottweilers. So so many dogs that helped Dante track down his victims.

"Now I wouldn't think of taking a step outside the house, my fox. My hounds are allowed the roam at night and often drag runaways back to my doorstep." The albino man hummed and glanced at you, "Next, I'd like to show you my new collection of heads. Would you join me to the east wing?"

"Would you please excuse me for tonight, Mr. Senguri. I'm not feeling too well, and I'm exhausted."

"Ah, true..." Dante sighed as he mused, "It's only natural after you made it here. You'll need a good long sleep, and by tomorrow I hope you will feel good as new." The albino man smiled eagerly as a thought returned to his mind, "I nearly forgot to ask for your permission! I will make this simple for you. (Y/n) (L/n), you have two choices. Yes or yes? I'm terribely sorry but you, I won't allow you to have the option of Joe. I need to hunt you, you've been the object of my curiousity and admiration for years. So choose only one of the two: yes or yes?"

You gulped at the close proximity of the murderer in front of you. He smiled down at you, silently urging and pressuring you to hurry and chose.

"Come, my fox, make your choice. Yes or yes?"

Never would you say yes to his proposal! But since he refused to allow Joe to have his fun with you, maybe there would be something else you could do if you said no. Just maybe.

"Since when was I so selfish? Did I ever want something this eagerly...? Hah, you should hear that things those people say to me before the games begin. They insult me, beg for their lives, try to bribe me. Everyone is surprised at how shameless I am." Dante scratched your head ever so carefully as urged, "Go on. Come on and tell me yes. You see everything I created here? My scenario has become more daring than I thought. I'd say this plan is perfect for my objectives. Now, I don't care what others may say about me. But you better tell me yes."

"What if-"

"No. I'll stop you there." Again he shushed you by placing a finger in front of your lips. "I don't want to hear it unless you are accepting. I have decided yes. Now it's time to hear your answer. I want you to mean it, don't guess. Be serious about your reply, don't ask a question. Don'e give me that unsure side-to-side, I want that confident up-and-down. There shouldn't be any n's or o's in your response. I'll erase them from today, so there's no need to think for too long, my precious fox. The answer is, repeat after me: yes."

Slowly you lowered your hands, slowly reaching into your pocket behind your back so Dante would not see what you were holding. "Alright..." You sighed out, staring up at the albino's surprised but delighted expression.

"Alright, what?~" Dante cooed, "Let me hear a clear answer, my fox."

"Alright...I refuse!" Slipping the knife into your hands you aim the knife at his heart, about to plunge the weapon into his heart. Yet his quick reflexes and surperior strength caught the knife in his hands.

Never did Dante Senguri stop smiling as he plucked the knife out of your grip and examined it, "What a pretty weapon you have here..." His eyes trailed back to you, "I'll give it back to you at a later time." With that said he slipped the knife into his pocket. "You know, (Y/n), you inspired me and puzzled me when I first began reading your works. You bring out my hidden selfishness, I didn't even know I had until you showed up. Your eyes and my curiosity about you, make my heart burn up. My heart is burning burning burning with passion and desire. So you better hurry, my little fox, I'm beginning to get impatient."

The loud chiming and ticking of the grandfather clock caught both your and Dante's attention. It told the time, displaying XII. Meaning it was midnight.

”To make it simple, whatever you choose, you will be with me.” Dante said simply, without a moment’s hesitation. He smiled before adding, “I just want your consent, it would be ungentlemen like of me if I didn’t. I’ll wait as long as it takes, I’ll keep you until you accept. It may seem a bit absurd, and you might say I’m insisting you. But you won’t regret it if you accept...Here, go on and rest now. It’s late and you need your beauty sleep, I suppose it’ll give you time to overthink my proposal, my precious fox.”

”I...I bid you goodnight.” You immediately took off, trying to ignore Dante’s raised accented voice behind you growing distant with each step you took.

”It saddens me you can’t join tonight.” Called out the albino man. “I’m expecting an interesting game this night—a big and strong Polynesian native. He appears capable and clever!—Good night, my fox, I hope you dream of your thrilling future here.”

Retreating to the room and as soon as you were inside, you closed the doors shut. You were exhausted so you did the only thing you could do, rest. Changing into silk pajamas left behind, you then lied on the plush bed. Twisting and turning, over and over, your eyes wide open. You couldn’t get a wink of sleep out of fear and anxiousness. When you heard footsteps out of your guest room followed by a clicking, you stealthily made your way to the door. Twisting the knob, it refused to open. You went to the window and looked out past the glass panes, realizing you were on the second floor. Maybe you could get down to the ground safely, if it wasn’t for a pair of Dante’s hounds gazing up at you expectantly. Slowly you went back and lied down, curling up under the sheets as you hugged yourself. Again and again you tried to achieve some sleep, yet just when it seemed as if you would finally catch a few z’s, the sound of a pistol rang out faintly from the dense jungles.

That next day, Dante Senguri did not make his appearance until late that evening. He dressed himself in an ironed black shirt, with a blue coat over that, black tailored pants, and polished brown shoes. Immediately the albino man found himself concerned with your well being.

“Oh, my night? Well to put it simply, it was terrible.” Dante sighed as he sat beside you in the dining hall, “I’m troubled, my fox. Last night I was beginning to get the slightest feeling of boredom.” Then he smiled at you, “But you can chase all those unwanted stultifying feelings for me.” While taking a second serving of waffles he continued explaining his troubles of last night. “You see, last night’s game was not as good as I originally had hoped. The man lost his head. He left a boring trail in his wake that offered no challenges, trying to confuse me by going in circles, the imbecile! The thing is, those too long on a ship lose their sense when it comes to land navigation. They preform repeating and common tactics that are most annoying!”

He really was annoyed by that...

Dante glanced at you before kindly offering, “Would you like another serving, my fox?”

”Mr. Senguri, I’d like to leave this island at once.”

The hunter sighed, seemingly hurt by your words. “Why would I ever let you go? You’ve been the best company I’ve ever had. Beside, my precious fox, you’ve only just arrived yesterday. You haven’t even gone with me to hun-“

“I want to leave today. I have important business, sir.” You seethed, staring into Dante’s red eyes filling with irritation before that emotion was suddenly gone and replaced with some positive feeling but twisted thought.

At first he remained silent as he placed another serving onto your plate. A smile curled at his lips. “Tonight,” said the hunter, “we will hunt, you and I, my precious fox.”

You shook your head no. “No, sir. I will not hunt.”

"I am not sure what you’ll choose, so I prepared these options. You may choose only one of the two: Yes or Yes? I am not sure what you want, so I prepared those options. Make your choice, my fox, come on. Yes or yes?" The man mused as he admired you, "Maybe not, maybe yes, make it more clearly. Show me how you feel, dear. Open your ears. Don’t you hear it? Its simple. Like stated previously, you will only be my game. None other’s. I am always serious when it comes to the matter of hunting. You really are an inspiration. I drink to you, (Y/n) (L/n), my precious fox, to an opponent finally worthy of my skill--at last!" Dante raised a glass in the air, but you merely sat and stared at him. "Trust me, dear, you'll find this game well worth playing." He smiled eagerly as he continued, "You against me, skillful versus skillful. Your brain against mine. Your strength against mine. Think of it as an extreme game of outdoor chess. And the stakes will be high, wouldn't you say?"

"And if I win-"

"I'll finally acknowledge a defeat, the first one in my books. That is, if you can stay alive until midnight on the third night." Placing the glass down, "IF you do happen to win, Joe will escort you to a mainland port." He saw the doubt clouding your eyes, "Fret not, my fox, I always keep my word. Always. Respectfully, if you lose you will stay here on this island. Do we have a deal?"

"...No-"

"Too bad! I've already decided for you!" He turned to glance at his assistant, "Joe, will supply you with the proper outfit, food, and...oh, I nearly forgot." Fishing the knife out of his pocket, he placed it in your hands, curling your fingers around the weapon and gently tapping your knuckles. "Your knife, my fox. Mustn't forget that. Oh, another thing!" He stood straight as he warned you with a sad frown, "I advise you avoid the swamps of the southeast. There's quicksand there. One imbecile tried to cross and got stuck along with one of my hounds named Max. You can only imagine my feelings, dear. Max was my most beloved and prized hound...Well, pardon me, my fox. I always take a nap after my lunch, I would love if you joined me but I imagine you'd want to begin your head start. Don't worry, I won't follow until dusk. Hunting is much more exciting at night than the day, don't you think?" Dante Senguri smiled and bowed to you before taking his leave, "Good luck, my fox. Don't disappoint me~"

From another door entered Joe carrying a set of simple black clothing and a sack of food.

You fought your way through the dense jungle and underbrush until the sun began to set, leaving the sky shifting to a dark colored palette. You had to think of something! Some way to help your survive! Yes, you had created a complicated trail, it wouldn't be enough to throw of that murder. You knew that much, at least. At first a wave of panic and horror hit you as the gates closed behind you and you were left alone. But know, you were beginning to gain courage as you devised up tactical plans to best Dante Senguri. Surely if you continued straight, you run in with the sea. That wouldn't help. So you continued with leaving behind confusing tracks, much like foxes did.

When night overcame the island, you had scratches and bruises but you continued on. Eventually, you stopped. It would be insane to continue in the dark while Dante was probably beginning his sick little game. Plus, now you needed to rest after leaving those twists and turns of trails behind. "I've played the fox, now I-I...need to act as the cat." You concluded that as the best option as you discovered a large tree nearby.

With its thick base and multiple large branches spread out covered with leaves, it would be sure to provide temporary cover. So you climbed the large tree and took the opportunity to stretch out and rest on the large branches.

Even that damned hunter Dante Senguri could not track you here, surely. Only a demon, the devil himself, could follow such a complicated trial through the brush after dark.

...

A quiet night rested on the island but sleep refused to grace you. Hours passed when the sky began changing to a gray hue, you nearly fell off the limb of the tree when the frightened squaking of a bird startled you. It came from some steps away on your left. Something was coming, slowly but cautiously, coming the same way you had come from. You stuck to the large branch, flatening yourself to the surface and through the ticket of leaves, you watched intensely...And that figure of something approaching was of a man.

It was Dante Senguri. He made his way along, utmost concentrated on the ground before him as he stepped forward. Suddenly he halted his steps almost right underneath the branch you lied on, dropping to his knees and studying the ground. You wanted to pounce on him like a panther, but you retrained youself once you saw the automatic pistol in his pale hands.

As if puzzled, the albino man shook his head. He stood and straightened his posture, while you held your breath and remained as still as possible. Inch by inch, Dante's red eyes traveled up the tree. Searching for an obvious sign. His sharp eyes stopped before they reached your branch, a smile spread over his lips. Almost deliberately he mused, "What a cunning little fox..." He turned his back on the tree and carelessly walked away, back along the trail he had come from. The crushing of plant life underneath his boots grew fainter and fainter until you could no longer hear him at all.

You finally breathed, allowing all the pent up air to go out as soon as you could no longer hear him. The first thought that came to your mind made you feel sick and extremely concerned. Dante could follow a trail through the woods at night, much like a hound. Secondly, you did not want to believe that Dante was so good and so confident when it came to hunting, that the man knew he was there on the tree...The albino was playing around with you! The thought made you shudder. Why else had Dante smiled and said those words? Why else would he turn back? The evidence was there and the truth was clear.

When the sun's rays pushed throught the morning mist, you realized that Dante was saving you for more entertainment for another day. He wanted his fun, he did not wish to be disappointed. The albino was the predator, you were the prey. It was then that you experienced the true meaning of terror.

"I can't lose, I can't...I still have so much I want to do, I can't die or stay here."

Sliding down from the tree, you resumed the chase and headed towards the woods. Your mind was set and you forced the machinery of your mind to function. A few hundred yards away you stopped at a large dead tree leaning on a smaller living one. Placing the sack of food to the side, you unsheathed your knife and began to get to work.

When the job was done, you rested behind a fallen log about a hundred feet away or so. Close enough to see yet at the same time far enough to let you bolt in the worse case scenario. You did not have to wait long for the predator returned to find and play with the prey.

Coming up the trail with the sureness of a bloodhound came Dante Senguri. Nothing escaped those piercing red eyes, no crushed blade of grass, no bent twig, no mark no matter how faint. So dedicated was the albino to his stalking that he was upon the contraption you made before he noted it. His foot touched the protruding bough that was the trigger. Even as he touched it, the man sensed the danger and leaped back with swift agility. But he was not quick enough, for the dead tree which had been delicately adjusted on the cut living one collapsed onto the albino. Striking him with a blow on the shoulder, but if it weren't for his caution or swiftness he would have been crushed underneath the contraption you created. He staggered but did not fall, continuing to grip on the pistol in hand. He stood there, rubbing his now injured shoulder as a grin creeped onto his features.

The man laughed loudly. "(Y/n)!" He called out, looking around for any sign of you as he continued to grin. "Very nice! Very very nice! I applaud your attempt, it was wonderfully done! If it weren't for the knowledge I have and my wits, you would have caught me! You are proving much much more interesting than I originally imagined, my fox! Please, do keep it up! I'll be gone only but a moment to have my wound treated, it'll be a moment. I'll return, my dear. I'll come back for you."

When the albino man had took his leave, you resumed the chase once again. The contraption remained collapsed on the dirt ground. You stared at it before continuing. If it weren't for Cleo, a jaguar who had nearly been crushed by the same contraption a few years ago, you may have been at a dead end. The feline was severely injured and you were tasked with caring for her after the incident, there you had examined the trap that had harmed her. The Malay Mancatcher, a trap used mainly in Southeast Asia. The same trap you used against Dante Senguri.

You continued the trail for hours until darkness came. But you still continued on. The ground gew softer, the vegetation grew denser, and the insects bit constantly. Then as you took another step forward, your foot sank in some ooze. When you tried to wrech it back, the muck stuck like glue keeping your foot in place. With violent effort you got your foot loose, now knowing that you were in the swamp Dante had warned you about.

You looked down, the softness of the earth had bestowed an idea upon you. Stepping back about a dozen feet or so from the quicksand, you began to dig into the damp earth. Digging digging diggning until the hole reached well above your shoulders, you climed out and searched for pieces of wood. You gathered them and sharpened them like knives to fine points, carving them into stakes. Carefully you slid back into the hole and planted the stakes inside with the points sticking up before climbing out. With nimble fingers you wove a carpet of weeds, branches, and blades of grass that would cover the mouth of the pit. Finally, sweat covered and tired, you rested behind a lightening charred tree.

You knew well that Dante Senguri was approaching, you could hear the padding of his feet on the soft ground and you detected the scent of his perfume wafting through the air. Yet somthing was off. He was coming faster with unusual swiftness, no longer looking to the trails for guidance. You waited and waited, you could not see them...Finally when you heard the sharp crackle of the breaking branches as the cover of the pit gave away, hearing the sharp scream of pain as the stakes found their mark. You wanted to leap for joy, but you stayed put. When you peeked past the tree, you reeled back only to see Dante holding a lanturn above the pit.

The Burmese tiger pit. Another trap introduced to you in unfortunate circumstances. Tigger the tiger was an older feline who had been trapped in the Burmese tiger pit. The poor creature fell in and was forgotten, nearly bleeding to death because of the stake stuck in his side. You were there when he had to be sedated and pulled out, you were there to see the pit and hear how it was bulit. Another trap you used against Dante Senguri.

"You've amazed me yet again, my clever fox. But must you have done this to one of my favorite pets?" He sighed softly, "Poor Bailey, fallen into a Burmese tiger pit...That's unfortunate. Again, my dear, you score.........Hm...I wonder how you will stand against my entire pack? I'm going home for a rest now. Thank you for the most amusing evening."

At daybreak you began to stir awake, you found yourself lying against the truck of the charred tree not far from the Burmese tiger pit. But what made you wake was a sound. A sound that made you learn that you had new things to learn about fear. It was a distant sound, faint but definitely there, and you recognized what it was. It was the baying of a pack of hounds.

You had two choices. You could stay where you were and try to fight back, which was basically suicide. Or you could flee which would only postpone the danger. For a moment you stood there, allowing the ideas to flow through until one wild dangerous idea crossed your mind. Hesitantly you gripped your belt and made your way away from the swamp.

The barking of the hounds drew nearer and nearer with each passing minute, giving you less time to think. Climbing a tall tree, you looked out to see a far away figure of Dante alongside the tall and big build of Joe holding the leashes of all the hounds.

They would discover you any minute now. Your mind worked quickly as you thought up a native trick you learned in Uganda. On your way sliding down a tree, you snatched a branch and fastened it to your knife. With the blade pointing down the trail, with a bit of vines you tied the branch back. Then you ran. Running as fast as you can. The hounds barked louder once they detected he fresh scent. You now know how a hunted animal feels.

You had to stop to breath, using your arm on a tree to support your weight. Yet the hounds stopped abruptly, and your heart stopped too. They must have reached the knife...

Eagerly you climbed the nearest tree to see what the results were. Looking back through the leaves, you saw that there was no movement. They had stopped. Yet your soared hopes had plummeted and crashed once you saw the figure of Dante Senguri still standing. But Joe was not. Joe was not as fortunate. The knife, driven by the recoil of the branch had not hit its intended target but plunged into another man.

The hounds sniffed the body of the large man, pressing their snouts against the corpse. Dante snatched up the leashes and clapped, “Well done! Magnificent! Possibly even superb! You truly are the perfect game!! So much trill, so much fun, so much adrenaline rush!”

You hardly tumbled to the ground when the pack of hounds began to howl and bark again, resuming the chase.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You panted, dashing through a blue gap between two trees dead ahead. Ever nearer drew the hounds. Past the trees was the shore of the sea. Twenty feet below the sea rumbled and hissed, crashing against the jagged rocks. You hesitated, jump or stay. The sound of the hounds encouraged you to jump, and you did-before the jaw of a pointer had locked onto your ankle. Your scream of pain and frantic cries were nothing to the hounds who pulled you away from the edge with their teeth.

A sharp whistle cut them off, making them unhinge their canines from your skin and sit patiently with wagging tails. You were dragged away from the ledge, far enough so you couldn’t run and jump. When you looked up you met the confident and pleased gaze of Dante Senguri.

“Checkmate.” A smirk formed at his lips as he pointed a gun at you. “I must say, very well played, (Y/n). You’ve gifted me with the best time of my life.”

Choose only one of the two: Yes or yes?

”I’ve never felt so alive...! You have not a single clue how delighted I am at this very moment.”

Make your choice. Come on, my darling fox. Yes or yes?

”I’ll most definitely keep you around. Our conversations, your company, your skill, has provided me with far greater pleasure to me than anything else in the world!”

Take your pick, the choice is up to you.

”I will say no to your no, is it me or us?” He pressed the pistol against your heart, “I respect your choice but reject your rejection. There is only one answer, the choice is up to you. It’s all up to you, my precious fox.” Giving you a gentle smile as he caressed your cheek with his free hand, “Make your choice~ Come on, yes or yes?”

#yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere guy #yandere male #yandere hunter #yandere author #yandere scenario #yandere oneshot #yandere writing #yandere imagines #yancore #shiny-jr

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Note

Heart eyes + sweet talk with our favorite funky little Pharoah

“Oh, Y/N,” Ahkmenrah breathed, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open, causing him to look more child than king as he surveyed the rooftop pool.

Your brother owned one of the most exclusive hotels in the city, and he let you pick a night in the middle of the week to surprise your boyfriend with some outdoor alone time.

“Chlorine doesn’t exactly smell like rose petals,” you apologized.

“You secured this area just for us?”

“Just for us,” you affirmed.

“So . . .” Ahk said gesturing at his clothes.

You held up the rooftop key between your fingers and gave it a little shake.

“No one’s getting up here until we’re ready to leave.”

Ahkmenrah’s face lit up, his grin contagious as he shed his clothes within a nanosecond, and you couldn’t help but laugh as your Ancient Egyptian was now standing on a rooftop in New York City gloriously naked.

“Your turn,” he sang as he looked at you like you were an ethereal creature instead of a mere mortal.

You followed his lead, stripping your clothes off quickly and relishing in the wicked feeling of being naked in such a public space; a part of you wondered just how many of the taller buildings around you had a telescope fixed on you at this very moment.

But there was something sexy about that thought, though, so you grinned and stretched, not missing the way Ahkmenrah’s eyes ran over your body.

Then, he held out his hand and you took it, letting him lead you into the water. Even though the pool was heated, and despite the stifling temperature of the city, you shivered as the cooler water enveloped you, your skin breaking out in little goosebumps as you swam to reach Ahk who was in water almost up to his neck.

He laughed for no reason, his arms splayed as they churned the water, so you swam into his embrace and wrapped your legs around his trim hips. The water held you up until Ahkmenrah’s arms found you, drawing you against his body.

“I have not felt this relaxed in ages, my love.”

“Good. I know it’s hard being cooped up all the time. I wanted to do something special for you.”

“Gifting me with your time, your presence, is more than I could ever ask for.”

“Stop,” you said, blushing at his praise and lowering your eyes to break the intimacy of the moment.

But Ahk was having none of that.

The water sloshed as he reached out to tip your chin back up. His eyes, a dark blue in the dim lighting from the underwater lamps throughout the rooftop pool.

“You are a treasure, Y/N. Never have I known a soul like yours.”

“You’re pretty special, too, pharaoh,” you said with a soft smile.

Ahkmenrah was looking at you like you had hung not just the moon, but the stars and the shadowy night that wrapped them up, too.

“I love you,” he stated firmly, proudly before he kissed you.

As your mouths moved together in a practiced heat, you knew, without a doubt, that you were the luckiest person in the universe to have found someone like Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth Kings, but more importantly, you had found the one true king of your heart.

#monday fluffday #fluff #Ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah x gender neutral reader

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xaphrin · 4 years

Text

It took every once of my control to NOT let this consume my entire soul.

- - -

It started in the most subtle ways. So subtle, that Raven didn’t even realize it for the first few weeks she was trapped on the island.

The first morning she woke up to shells - beautiful, pristine ones - were arranged into a small pile on the sand. Raven had thought that maybe the waves had washed them in from the previous night. But the small piles of shells had continued, until Raven knew that there must have been something else behind it. She tried to stay up one evening to catch what was making this happen, but other than a ripple of motion just beyond the break of the sandbar far off the island’s coast, she didn’t see anything.

And then last week, she hadn’t been able to catch or scavenge anything to eat for days, and when she thought she might be forced to try and eat something she’d rather didn’t, Raven found a fish in a tide pool. A fish that should have definitely not been there. She was grateful for whatever was taking care of her, but it felt… odd. Something was not right. So, she stayed up and watched the waves at night again, but other than the strange movement just outside of the sandbar, there was nothing to tell her that there was anything out of the ordinary.

But something was wrong. It had to be. Neat piles of shells, and huge fish trapped in tide pools didn’t just happen. Something had to be messing with her… or, at least, taking care of her.

And that was how this particular afternoon, she found herself swimming out to the sandbar far from the shore, where the sea dropped off into endless, infinite blue. She knew it was dangerous, she could get sucked into the undertow, or misjudge the distance between the shore and the sandbar and lose her strength. There were so many things that could go wrong, but she needed answers. Real answers.

Her limbs were exhausted by the time she felt her toes touch soft wet sand, and Raven found herself wading in waist-deep water, looking around her for any kind of clue that might explain what was happening. But all around her there was nothing but that deep blue stretching out into the pale blue of the horizon. Raven stood there and looked at the sea around her, sighing in defeat. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she really was losing her mind.

And then she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

Oh no.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Her heart stopped in her chest and she saw a dorsal fin from a large shark slice through the crystalline surface of the water. Panic filled her, and Raven suddenly tried to think of what she should do. She couldn’t make it back to the shore without resting, and if she tried, the movement would draw the shark to her. She stood perfectly still and watched as the shark circled closer still.

A rough tail slid past her leg and Raven jumped back, nearly flailing in the water. She jerked around looking for the shark again, and seeing the dorsal fin move closer. Raven took a step back, felt the rough skin of the tail slide past her over leg, and she panicked. She stumbled backward, and expected to fall into the water, but-

Warm hands steadied her, keeping her up above the water’s surface. Raven blinked, looking over her shoulder to see…

Curious green eyes stared at her, and Raven turned in the stranger’s arms to look closer. Was he a… mirage? No. She could feel his hand - large and strong, tight on her arms. She looked around the clear surface of the sea again, trying to piece together what happened. Had someone else washed up on the shore with her? Or was the island not as deserted as she had thought before? Maybe there was another settlement somewhere on the other side of the island she hadn’t gotten to yet.

Slowly, she pulled back just a little and examined his face, took in the sharp angular lines of his jaw and cheekbones. Long, wet hair slid over his shoulders and rested against his chest and arms, clinging to olive skin, marked with an array of deep green tattoos and marred with scars. She slid her hand up an arm and touched a scar, as if trying to convince herself that he was real.

He didn’t shy away from her touch, and leaned closer to her, as if really examining her for a long moment. He picked up a hand and pressed it against his chest. “Damian.”

His voice was a low rumble, like waves crashing against rocks during a storm. Raven swallowed her pounding heart, and lifted her hand to her chest. “Raven.”

Damian’s hard-edged face softened, and he reached out to touch the shell necklace she had been making with the shells left on the shore. Raven flushed as he hooked his fingers under the shells and lifted them, looking oddly pleased with her handiwork.

“Did you give these to me?”

“Do you like them?” His words were heavily accented, slanted with long, deep vowels and short, rough consonants, as if he wasn’t used to speaking her language. He threaded the strands of shells around his fingers, admiring the bright colors in the stark light of the sun.

“They’re pretty.” Raven wasn’t sure what else to say. She had a million questions for him - what was he doing here? Where did he live? On the island? Somewhere closer? Why hadn’t he come to her sooner? They could have pooled their resources and maybe she could have gotten off this god-forsaken island in the middle of nowhere. And, what in the world was he doing out in the middle of the ocean alone?

“Mm.” He gave her a small half-smile and dropped the shells so they lay back on her chest. Raven shivered as his fingers slid along her sternum, resting carefully against her heart. He leaned forward, looking into her eyes as if he was still searching for something in her soul. “Your craftsmanship needs some work, but it is still quite beautiful.”

Raven opened her mouth to snap back at him, but she felt something slid along her leg again. The rough feeling of sharkskin slid against her calf, and Raven pulled her leg away, looking down into the water to see a shark tail pressed against the back of her knees. She jumped forward into Damian, trying to step as far away from the shark as possible. How had the shark managed to sneak so close to both of them? Panic swelled in her chest and she nearly jumped into his arms.

“You are… frightened?”

Yes! Of course she was frightened! There was a shark in the water with them! How did he manage to stay so calm? Raven’s eyes followed the long slender lines of the shark tail, up to…

…to…

Raven swallowed, uncertain if she was really seeing this. The long, swaying tail was firmly attached to Damian’s body. She stared for a long moment, and then rubbed at her eyes and stared again.

He was a merman.

An honest-to-goodness, real life merman.

Raven then did the most embarrassing thing that she could possibly do - she fainted.

When Raven woke up again, it was night time and the full moon lit the pale, white sand around her. She found herself on the shore with a pounding headache, and a new, neatly displayed pile of shells next to her. She picked one up and looked at it, her stomach turning over, trying to rationalize what happened. It had to be sun sickness. Or maybe the fish she ate had turned bad. Or maybe… maybe she was finally losing her mind. She’d been on this island for nearly a month now, and without any other human contact, that could be a real possibility. After all, what she had seen couldn’t possibly be real. She was just going to have to prove it to herself.

Raven sat up and pitched forward, holding her still throbbing head in her hands as she tried to think of any kind of explanation to make her feel… less crazy. Maybe if she swam back out to the sandbar, she would find a clue as to what really happened, or what she had actually seen when she was out there this morning. Maybe it was a shark, and her own fears had tried to fill in parts of her memory that weren’t really there.

She waded into the water again, making her way to the sandbar far off the shore.

There was a loud splash to her left, followed by a low rumble of sound. “Careful, my love.”

She jerked and looked out into the water, seeing the outline of someone standing there. She screwed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and try to pull herself together. Raven refused to faint again, like she was some kind of silly heroine in a bad romance novel. This was a dream, or a mirage, or something… something with a reasonable explanation. Carefully, she opened her eyes again, but saw him still standing there, watching her with a soft, amused expression, as if he was fascinated with her.

Raven shifted in the water, her stomach twisting as something strange seemed to flood her whole body. Heat crawled up her neck, and she rubbed at her arms as she moved closer to him. The moon was bright and clear, casting silvery shadows around them, but Damian seemed to glow. The tattoos that meandered over his arms seemed to be on his sides as well, and on the tight V of his hips and…

Raven lost control of her thoughts as her eyes traced every tattoo, examining the way they seemed to light up - as if they were bioluminescent, casting their own glow in the dark evening.

Damian stepped even closer to her, and he watched her with a pleasant curiosity for a long moment. “You overexerted yourself today. You should not have made that swim out to the breaker. Not when you’re obviously still healing from the crash a month ago.”

He moved closer to her, and Raven could see the tattoos on his body disappear into the water, lighting up two very human, almost normal looking legs. She must have had sun poisoning. There is no other possible reason she could have for making herself believe that this very real human in front of her had a tail.

“I’m alright.” Her voice felt swallowed by the silence around them as she tried to stumble over her own words. He stared down at her, still obviously curious. “Are you… human?”

His face fell, and he leveled a dark stare at her. “It is rude to ask someone’s species.”

She stumbled backward and he caught her, his arm resting tight against her waist as he pulled her steady against him. Raven stood there and felt the whole length of his very naked body press tight against her through her now-wet shirt. Every twitch of his muscles, every deep breath… everything that clearly rested between his legs. There was no denying that he was very, very human.

“I’m sorry. I…” She stumbled over her words, suddenly feeling foolish. How in the world could she have imagined him having a tail? “...it’s just that this afternoon I could have sworn you had a-” Raven cut herself off from saying anything more, or she was going to embarrass herself. She looked away, trying not to think about how the gentle lapping of the waves kept pushing her hips tight against his own. “Nevermind.”

“A… what?” He lifted an eyebrow. “A tail?”

Heat darkened her face. She was being ridiculous. “Sorry. It has to be sun sickness.”

“I do normally have a tail.” He said it so calmly, like everyone should have known that people in oceans had tails. Damian blinked and pointed at the moon behind him. “A full moon gives me the opportunity to come on land.” His lips pulled to the side, as if he was teasing her. “I usually do not have a reason to… but, you seem to be a curious exception to the rule.”

He did have a tail. He had a tail and he was openly admitting it - to her face. Oh, god. Just what in the world had she gotten into? Raven fell backward into the water as she scrambled to get out of his arms, stumbling over herself and the waves. Damian crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her, both confused and amused at whatever her mind was going through.

He cocked his head to the side. “My love, you seem… uncomfortable.”

“You’re naked.” She sputtered as her head broke the surface, pushing her hair out of her face. “You’re naked, and a merman or a shark or whatever, and I’m… I’m clearly losing my mind.” Raven stumbled to shallow water and sunk down, letting the soft waves lap against her shoulders. “That’s the only explanation - I’ve officially lost my mind. I’m stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere, with no one looking for me, and I’m clearly descending into madness. That’s the only reasonable explanation.”

“You… you think you have lost your mind?” There was a tinge of hurt that lined his voice.

“Well… merpeople don’t exist, so…” She motioned to him, trying to ignore the fact that while he stood next to her, everything below the hips was perfectly-centered at eye-level, and… gods be damned. There was no possible way that could be real. She took a slow breath and looked away, staring out into the dark line of the horizon. “You’re obviously a mirage I created so I didn’t feel so lonely.”

“Mm.”

Raven looked over at him, and was presented again with the unadulterated image of his nakedness. “Sit down. I don’t want to stare at your…”

Massive cock.

“...manhood.”

He chuckled and settled into the water next to her, leaning back of his forearms as he stared up into the sky. Raven pulled her knees to her chest and stared out into the endless nothingness of the ocean, trying not to think how very far away she was from everyone and everything she knew. She felt… hopeless, and lonely, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever find her way home. There was a long silence that settled between them, until Damian finally broke it.

“The ocean is seemingly endless.”

She looked over at him, watching the long, dark strands of his hair disappear into the water, and she found herself wanting to wrap it around her hand, just to see if he was as real as she wanted him to be. She shifted and looked back out at the sea.

“Is it such a strange thing to believe that something you have never met, or seen, exists beyond your understanding, my love?”

She glanced back at him. “And are you going to tell me unicorns exist too?”

“Oh no, they were wiped out centuries ago.” His teasing smile returned, and he picked up his head, turning to face her. “But, we have adapted a bit better.” He lifted a leg out of the water before letting it slip under the surface again. His eyes met her own and he leaned even closer to her, closing all possible routes of escape. “And you do not look like you believe you have succumbed to madness.”

“That’s the thing about going crazy, you don’t really notice it.” She huffed out an annoyed breath, but didn’t pull away. “And I don’t think a very attractive man with a monster of a cock who calls me my love, is just going to be hanging out anywhere outside of my dreams, so… so, that’s obviously the only explanation. I’ve lost my mind, you’re a figment of my imagination, and-”

Her words were cut painfully short as Damian pulled her tight against him, his lips pressing against hers in a somewhat unrefined, but still toe-curling kiss. Her eyes widened and she tried to think of any reason she shouldn’t kiss him, but nothing came to mind. Not when he was kissing her like she was his entire reason for living. Her hand tightened on his thigh, and she pushed up into his lips, letting go of a soft sigh. His hand wrapped around her hips and he pulled her tight against him, slipping a knee between her own legs. Raven leaned into him, her mouth chasing after his as he broke free from her.

If this was madness, then she was happy to live here.

He smirked, and curled his fingers under her chin. “My love, I only have until the moon sets before I have to return to the ocean until the next full moon.” He pitched his voice to a low, rumbling noise that vibrated deep into Raven’s soul. “And while I am enjoying this thrilling conversation about whether or not I exist, I would very much prefer to use my time in a more… physical way.”

Oh, yes. This was obviously a dream. In what universe would she ever find herself presented with an opportunity like this? Raven level a flat stare at him. “And what makes you think I’m just going to let you… mate with me?”

He blinked, confused by her question. He reached out and tangled his fingers in the strand of shells. “You have been wearing the shells I bring you.”

Raven looked down as he fingered the shells. “They’re pretty, and you left them for me.”

“By accepting my small tokens of admiration, you have accepted my proposal.” He dropped the shells back onto her chest, lifting his head to look into her eyes. “And by wearing them openly, you are admitting that you are claimed by me.”

Raven let his words settle over her with all the weight of the world. Proposal. Claimed. Her heart stopped in her chest, and she dug her hands into the sand underneath her.

“Damian… am I your wife?”

He just smiled.

#damirae #demonbirds #merman au #I swear I'm a sucker for mermen aus #THE WORST KIND OF SUCKER #smutsgiving #well... almost-smutsgiving #smutsgiving 2019

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imnottherealharrystyles · 5 years

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We’ll Meet Again

A little thing I’ve been meaning to write since ‘Dunkirk’ came out. This is based on something that happened to a family friend’s grandparents. It’s the first thing I’ve posted which doesn’t have any smut for years, so please be gentle!

She woke with a sudden start. Heart racing, skin clammy with sweat, and a deep feeling that made her want to leave her bed to go searching for something. As she sat up and glanced around the room, she found everything was dark and still. There was no cause for alarm, no need for the hammering in her chest, but still it raced. To try settle the swirling anxiety in her stomach, she climbed out of bed and tread the careful route she had memorised so she could walk it in the dark. When she reached the window, she moved the blackout blind just enough to let some light into the room. The moon was unusually bright, a silver-white light flooded the room and she knelt down to check on her child, fast asleep in the bottom drawer of her dresser. Her little boy was growing so fast, he was already so close to taking his first steps, and he had said his first word, but as she watched him sleep, she understood what her mother meant when she said her children would always be her babies. His long, dark lashes resting on his sweet, chubby cheeks, and the sound of his quiet but steady breaths helped calm her a little, but she still couldn’t let go of the feeling of restlessness.

Alex. She’d dreamt of Alex. But it wasn’t the kind of dream she normally had about him. Normally she dreamt of times they’d shared before the war began, when they were happy, and life was free and simple, when he was home and he was safe. This dream; she felt the darkness around him, felt how tired he was as his bones ached and the cold seeped into his bones. She felt how much he wanted to give up, the uncertainty that he even had the strength to keep walking. That had been what woke her, the fear that he wouldn’t get to where she was going.

He’d been away for so long that he hadn’t even seen his son apart from the photograph she had sent him. But she hadn’t had a reply in months, and she had no idea if he was okay. She tried to take comfort in the words of her family and his that had anything happened to him then they would have received a telegram, but in moments like this -when all she had was the dark and her thoughts- it was hard to find anything that eased her worries. The dream, and the gnawing feeling which sat at the pit of her stomach, all seemed to be telling her that something wasn’t right. Or rather, that she had to do something. Treading quietly, she made her way to the bedroom door. Careful not to make any noise and wake her parents sleeping in the other room, she crept downstairs. The only sound in the living room came from the ticking clock on the mantle, and the faint dripping of the tap in the kitchen. Just as it was upstairs, everything was quiet, and there was no need for the sudden desire she felt to run out of the cottage into the night. But still, she found herself putting her stockingless feet into her shoes and pulling on her coat over her nightdress. As she placed a hat on her head and wrapped a scarf around her neck, she debated over whether to take her son or leave him. Her parents were home, so he would be safe, but the same feeling telling her to go was also telling her to take the baby with her, too. Pushing the heavy Silver Cross pram through the dark and silent village, the moon bathed the way with just enough light to see. There hadn’t been very many lampposts in the place she'd grown up in to begin with, but with the war came the blackout, and that meant she was on the empty roads completely alone. She had no idea where it was she was heading, where her feet were being compelled to carry her. But she walked on anyway, continuing until she found herself on the main road leading out of the village. There, she paused. A moment of uncertainty and doubt telling her to turn back and go home before it was too late. Looking at the narrow, stretching road ahead, she was surprised by how bright everything was. The tarmac was well lit, the moonlight reflecting on it and making it look like a still, snaking river, but still she hesitated. Why on earth was she out walking in the middle of the night? She didn’t know for sure, but the voice telling her to keep going was so strong that all she could do was take a deep breath, check that her son was safe, and keep moving on. Her steps were quick and steady, but the further she got from the safety of the houses, the less sure she felt about her decision. The hedges which lined the road either side of her rustled as she passed, and although she knew it was likely just a startled hedgehog, she still half expected someone to leap out at her. Even when she walked far enough that the hedges became fences, and she could see the rolling hills and nearby lake her and Alex had swam in as children, the wide open space only made her feel even more vulnerable. Looking back, still able to see the rooftops, she told herself it wasn’t too late to go home. She could feel numbness begin to creep into the tips of her toes and her fingers, her son could wake up at any moment, and the warmth of her bed seemed so appealing. But, she continued walking over the hill until the houses were no longer visible behind her. She couldn’t tell how long she walked for. Her surroundings looked so different in the still of the night that it was difficult to gauge if she’d been walking ten minutes or two hours. She was starting to feel tired, her legs and were so numb that she was regretting not taking to the time to dress properly, or at least put on her stockings (even if they did have holes in them). ‘At least,’ she thought to herself, ‘it isn’t raining.’ Her thoughts turned to Alex as she pushed through the tiredness. He was the love of her life, and had been since their first day at school. Out in the playground during break-time, she’d been playing ‘tick’ with her new friends when she had tripped over and grazed her knee. The stinging pain of the graze had been what made her cry, but watching the blood seep through one of her brand new, white socks is what really upset her. Alex had crouched down in front of her - his shorts displaying his own grazed knees - and asked if she was okay. He’d looked at her with wide, green eyes as she bawled about her mother being angry with her, then he’d taken her hand and lead her over to their teacher. Alex had shown her kindness -something many of the boys in her school might not have shown to a wailing little girl- but he had, and for that she’d always felt grateful. They became good friends from that day, often walking to school together or playing out in the fields near the village. However, as they grew older, and their friends and parents started to question if their friendship was purely platonic, they’d both denied there was any romantic feelings towards each other. The war had changed that. Neither of them expecting the whispers of war to come to fruition, or that it would affect them and their quiet village lives. But, like most of the men his age, most of the young men they were friends with, Alex wanted to fight for his country, so he joined the army. Knowing he was leaving, and possibly never coming back, forced them to admit that they were in love. They’d both known it for years, and they’d both also known that one day they would end up getting married, they had just thought they would have have all the time in the world for it to happen. Two days before he left to start his training, her and Alex were married in the same church his parents and hers had. As they’d exchanged rings, she was struck by just how much she loved him. She’d been in love with him since the time he’d gently taken her hand on the first day of school as she cried and told her everything was going to be okay, but this was the first time she had truly recognised what it was she felt. That night, after they had made love for the first time, she had told him that he had to do whatever he could to get back home to her. Alex had kissed her so sweetly, and promised that he would. In every letter she wrote, she asked him the same thing, and every letter he sent back he promised that it was the thought of coming home to her that kept him going. Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed the clouds gathering in the sky that were gradually dimming the moonlight and making it harder and harder to see. She prayed it wasn't about to start raining, then an even worse thought struck her. Suddenly, the moon disappeared and she was plunged completely into darkness. Body frozen, her mind raced, unsure what to do - she couldn’t move forward, and now she couldn’t even turn back.

Feeling herself begin to shiver, it was hard to tell if it was from the cold, or from fear.The darkness seemed to last for what felt like an eternity. Her eyes began to adjust slightly, but only enough that all she could take were just slow, tentative steps. Just when she thought the moon would never reappear, the clouds finally parted, and once again everything was awash with a bright, silvery light. Able to see again, she checked that her son was okay, then pushed her way to the top of the hill telling herself that once she got there she would decide if she should continue or not. At the top, she stopped again. Her fear had begun to settle, and the only reason her heart was thudding hard in her chest was from pushing the cumbersome pram up the steep incline. But the compulsion to go on had abated, and as she felt completely lost. From where she stood, the countryside looked magical - the trees cast long lollipop shaped shadows on the grassy hillsides, and the rippling water of the lake looked like a shimmery pool of liquid silver. It was beautiful, but none of it gave cause to explain why she had left the safety of her home to wander the dark, narrow roads with her child. Then, just as the confusion and frustration brought tears to her eyes and she was about to finally give in and go home, she saw it - the slow-moving figure in the distance. A chill ran down her spine, and her skin began to tingle. Unable to move, she watched the figure -a man, she guessed- get closer and closer. He wasn’t walking quickly, and although he was just a shadow, she could almost feel how tired he was - just as she had in her dream. Could it be…? She didn’t dare allow herself to hope that it was Alex walking towards her. She could see now that her guess about it being a man was correct, and she felt certain that she knew him, but the thought seemed too good to be true. Giving into the curiosity drawing her to meet the man halfway, she decided to walk on a little further. Carefully walking down the hill hoping that the weight of the pram didn’t pull her over, the anxiety -which had settled- had re-awoken, butterflies fluttering so violently that it made her feel nauseous. The more she looked at him, the more her mind started to play tricks on her. “Alex?” She suddenly called, his name bursting from her lips before she could stop it. The sound carried through the air, loud and clear, and the man stopped. Raising his head up from staring down as his feet to look at her, her heart stopped. The exhaustion was visible in his face, he'd been concentrating on every step so he wouldn't fall, and he looked so thin and wan, but it was him. It was her Alex. He had kept his promise to come home, to her and her son. Moving the pram to the side of the road where it was safe, she switched on the brakes, and started to run. The backs of her shoes had started to rub against her bare heel and she could already feel the blisters, and her body was so incredibly tired, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel Alex’s arms around her so she knew she wasn’t dreaming, wanted to hear him tell her -like had when they were children- that everything was going to be okay. When they were within reach, Alex dropped his kit-bag, and enveloped her in his awaiting, open arms. She began to cry, he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in days, but still she buried her nose into the curve of his neck and inhaled him in. If it was a dream, it was a cruel one, and one that she never, ever wanted to wake from. ��I love you,” Alex whispered, not entirely convinced he too wasn't experiencing some sort of hallucination from lack of sleep. “I love you, too.” Cupping her face in his hands, he took in every detail. If this was a dream, he wanted to remember every part. “Is it really you?” he asked, wiping the tears as they fell down her cheeks, “I’ve been walking for nearly two days, I may still be asleep in the field I took a kip in earlier.” Tearfully chuckling, she nodded, “it’s me.” “What are you doing out here, love? Did you bring the baby with you?” “I don’t know, I dreamt about you. I had this strange feeling that I needed to come out here, but I didn’t know why.” She watched him pick up his bag and wished she had the strength to carry it for him as he stumbled slightly under the weight. “We should get you home before he wakes up.” “And before you freeze!” They walked home together, slowly. She picked up the baby and carried him so Alex could put his bag on the pram and push it, she would just boil wash the covers in the morning. Her husband would look at her and smile, but he stayed silent. Alex had never seen a sight so beautiful than his childhood sweetheart carrying their sleeping baby.

He'd seen so many horrors, so many things that he would never be able to tell anyone about, things he knew would stay with him forever and haunt his dreams. But, it was the thought of seeing the moment he was currently living that had kept him fighting for survival. He would have to go back -that he already knew- but he'd be able to close his eyes and think of her and their son when he felt like laying down and giving up. She was his reason to come home, and the thought of the happy, peaceful life he hoped they would live. Maybe they would have more children, he could go back to work on the farm like he had done before the war, and he would love his family knowing just what it felt like to live without them. All he could do was hope that the war would end soon, and that he could make it to the other side.

#Harry Styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #alex #dunkirk fanfic #alex dunkirk

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eureka-its-zico · 5 years

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Vampire Dream

So I’m legit gonna share with y’all this epic ass dream I had with Jungkook as a vampire. I know there was more than what I got written down, but unfortunately I can’t remember the rest. But I’ve been OBSESSING over this dream all day, because Y’ALL: VAMPIRE KOOKIE IS HOT AF. At least in my head anyways lol.

The dream started with me walking on a rope bridge somewhere in a rain forest. It was night and the trees seemed to reach up and pierce the sky. The stars bleeding into the tops of the trees as the moon shown down on me and a girl, her name Lita, that was following closely in front of me. This girl was the one I’d been turned with on the same night, except when she was turned she seemed to lose a bit of her mind. She skipped and giggled around as a child and hummed songs only she could hear. Lita was constantly mischievous, and it forced me to reel her in and keep a watchful eye on her.

We were following this rope bridge towards a trail I knew the others had taken. The torch lights that were scattered along the trail not needed for my eyes saw best in the dark. Lita kept dancing around the bridge causing it to rock back and forth. I never tried to stop her or lost focus on the mission ahead. I wasn’t afraid of her tipping us over, because I knew we would survive the fall. So I let this child-like woman continue to giggle and have her fun; swinging the bridge like a madwoman.

My mind was elsewhere.

Lost in concentration of the voices – no the thoughts – of the group of vampires we’d been following. I couldn’t necessarily hear exactly what they thought. It was more like a current; a soft hum that lead me where I needed to go and cut in with words like a radio station picking up signal.

Further up, they were discussing about a plan. There was something that held a lot of importance for them in the temple up ahead. When we finally got closer to the group I turned to Lita and kept motioning for her to be silent. A simple gesture of my finger on shushing lips enough to turn her giggles as silent as a mimes.

Now she would be playing a game.

We watched the others from the seclusion of foliage as a large group of vampires, coordinated like a team, moved inside the large stone temple entrance. Their bodies moving in manufactured stealth; slithering as one great beast. It left me in awe. Me, who was still clumsy with my own new found body and abilities.

I’d spent months struggling to find someone else like Lita and I. Anyone who could help me find out who turned us and why. So many whys. The biggest leaving us turned with nothing to help us understand our change. We simply existed this way.

Once I knew they were far enough away, I motioned for Lita to follow me forward. Our movements quick and edged with our own form of covertness, but not enough. I knew neither of us possessed the kind of grace the earlier group of seven or eight of them did. Lita didn’t need it though. Her silent steps came in choreographed forms of dance. At first, it drived me totally ape shit. Now I understood that, maybe, it was part of who she was before we changed.

The farther we went inside the must and gloom of the temple entrance, I wondered if I lost them. Finally, my mind began to feel the silent hum of people in front of us. Then it hit me. It was voices and they were shouting.

I picked up my pace and came out of the clearing in full sprint. Too fast. When I entered the dirt floor was thrown up in a cloud of theatrical dust, and the force of my entrance sent a gust of wind that slammed into the backs of armed gunmen. Immediately, the men closest to us turned with their guns now drawn at us.

“Hands up!”

“Hands where I can see them!”

“Are they one of them?”

“Don’t fuckin’ move!”

My arm instinctively went out to guard Lita. Who could only giggle at the pair of screaming men before us. My mind moving a thousand miles per minute in hopes it would come up with any sort of plan. I could feel my body begin to shift, when all our attention was brought to a man who came to stop at the foot of a large pool. A large black jacket looming over most of his tall figure and the hood completely shielding his face from view.

While everyone else was taking in the entrance of this new person it allowed me to gawk at the vastness of the inside of the temple.

I knew right away it wasn’t the main part. No, it was simply the grand hall. A grand hall that was scattered with tombs and headstones. The middle of what might’ve been a ceremonial place, now laid sunken as buried treasure under thousands of gallons of water. An underwater grave with a pool half the size of a football stadium.

“Hands where we can see them asshole!”

All these men shouted orders as if they expected the creature he was to obey. I could already feel the power radiating off of him long before he removed his jacket in dramatic fashion. His feet moving him towards the edge of the pool. Before he pencil dived deep inside the water, your eyes were able to swoon over him immediately.

He was tall, yes. His body lean and flexing with muscles that promised power. His hair grazed cheeks and hid dark almond shaped eyes. His cheekbones as sculpted as the fit of his jeans that held tightly to strong legs. A body meant for speed and promises of dominance, and God, did I wanted to be dominated.

The power of him is what made my undead heart race. A power that made me drunk along with the rest of him.

This unknown man dropped inside the pool of water and I watched him since deep, deeper down until he could’ve been close to thirty feet down. The two men who’d stopped Lita and I now forgotten us completely as they joined the others in surrounding the pool. All of them shouting out whatever plans they could come up with.

Whatever it was I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Before the temple walls started to shake and the gravestones began to collapse into the water; I could feel him. I knew it was the vampire underneath the water. His power nothing aquatically driven. It was him using the depths and constant disorienting shift in the water as coverage from gunfire. It was using the threat of drowning on mortal men and shelter in the fact he could not.

Under the water I could see him there. His feet firmly planted on the floor and his eyes amber hot and burning. I swam past a man who ended crushed by a tombstone and sinking to the bottom. I swam and swam until I didn’t realize that the water had calmed. That the man was now outside of the pool and standing with the others that watched as I stayed in a euphoric state of smiles and laughter swimming around a pool.

Finally, I came to my senses and immediately moved to get out and far away. It wasn’t my intention to get caught.

“We came for what we wanted.”

It was a female voice. It could’ve belonged to any of the three of them that stood within the group.

“Good. Any idea who these two are?”

“Well, one of them seems like a nutjob.”

At first, I thought they meant me, but soon realized they were looking behind me where Lita was doing her usual dancing. Her hands picking up dirt and throwing it like rice at a wedding. It was enough to bring me back to my senses. I went to snap at them when a different female (who resembled Rihanna???) was just there beside me. There was no way to even tell of her movement. There was no wind of her movement. No electric shock on the air. She was just there. Beautiful and smiling.

She told me she knew who we were. That they would all take us home and later, we would meet again to discuss everything I’d been dying to know. It felt like a dream come true. I was going to get answers, but also, I wasn’t going to feel alone anymore.

The whole ride in the van towards my house, I kept sneaking glances in his direction. I’d learned after introductions his name was Jungkook. The only thing I knew was their names, but none of it mattered to me. I was so enthralled with him it was embarrassing.

Eventually, we arrived at my house (apparently it was an old apartment I used to stay in with my mom???) and Jungkook got out with me and Lita. I gave them a questioning look, when their leader, Kristoff, informed me it was a precaution.

“I also want too,” Jungkook told me.

He followed closely behind us as we made our way towards my apartment. The two of us stopping to tell a neighbor, Nelson, who worked graveyards to have a good night.

Once we were inside my mom had fallen asleep on a couch watching infomercials. She woke up almost seconds after we walked in, but was too groggy and tired to open her eyes yet. I could feel my chest picking up at panic. Jungkook was casually walking around the apartment. His feet stopping directly five feet away from my mom. If she seen him I knew she was going to freak out. How was I going to explain someone whose eyes burned like rubies in a fire ???

I went to move towards him when something occurred to me. My mind too busy to shush Lita off of the kitchen table she started dancing on. Jungkook wasn’t here to see me in. He was here to take something. My mind at first rose into alarm for my mother, until I watched with lightning speed for his hand to reach out and yank Lita to him.

“She’s going to need to come with us.”

Already I could feel his power prickling at my skin. He wanted to fight me. Fight me to take away the only real friend I had. No one was going to understand Lita. She was delicate. She was indeed very much like a child and wouldn’t understand. Also, they could possibly hurt her and I couldn’t have that. I hated myself for still feeling drawn to him, but attraction or not, I refused to let him take her.

I felt myself change seconds later, but stopped from moving when I heard my mom’s screams cut short. I whirled around to see Kristoff and a few others standing inside the rest of the living room. One of them holding my now terrified mother in their arms.

“We don’t want to have to do anything rash,” Kristoff began. “But we need the girl. She’s special.”

“Lita isn’t going fuckin anywhere with you,” I snapped.

Kristoff tsked and shook his head. He took one step in front of my mom, hiding her from my view, and made sure my full attention was on him.

“Either that girl comes with us or you’re going to be burying a mummy.”

I could hear Lita struggling behind me. I could hear her whimpers of pain and the frantic sounds of her breathing. It mixed itself in a terror cocktail along with my own mom’s desperate attempts to get free. It suddenly felt like I was going to have a panic attack. Everything whirling around me in a claustrophobic mess until I swore I was going to lose my mind. Instead, I grew furious.

Within seconds the room filled with power, my power. The current of it shook the walls of the apartment until it all exploded out of me. My hair flying back and face contorted as my fangs grew and my own ruby red fire exploded from my eyes. There was a brief second I heard my mom scream right before, in a flash, I rushed past the three my mom’s apartment door and took hold of the vampire that held my mom captive. We busted through the door and sent it splinters out around us.

The vampire I held struggled against my hold as I held him up, but he couldn’t get free. I roared at him one last time, this…thing that would hurt my mother, and I tore him apart.

Behind me I could hear Kristoff say, “It wasn’t the girl. It was her.”

When I whirled around to face them Jungkook was standing there. Jacket gone and seemingly ready for a fight. I roared at him again, my body now covered in bloody war paint, and steeled myself for whatever was about to happen. I knew his job was to subdue me and take me in alive, but I was too worried about my mom and Lita to worry about myself.

And then I woke up. I know there was more in there, cause I remember vampire boom boom lmao but yeah.

#yaaaaaaalll #my dreams are fuckin wild lmao #i dream like this all the time #but this shit had me waking up and risking going to work on time to try and see if i could finish it lol #vampire jungkook ruined me #been on my mind since 6 this morning #rambles #bts #vampire jungkook #jungkook

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ahgaseda · 6 years

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meet me under the moonlight | yugyeom (got7) drabble

↣ info: fluff, suggestive

The crickets sang your arrival as you stepped barefoot on to the pavement, a towel folded over your arm. The pitter-patter of your feet made you feel alone in the darkness of the night until you heard a series of loud splashes.

Turning the corner, you saw the vibrant blue of the pool tiles illuminated by artificial light. Dropping the towel on a nearby chair, you pulled your hair loose and approached the water. The boy swimming wildly drew a soft smile on your lips. Jet lag was really doing a number on him.

Crouching down, you sat on the damp stone and let your legs hang in the water, inhaling sharply through your teeth at the unsuspecting cold. You watched your boyfriend take his laps back and forth, surfacing only long enough for air before continuing in the hopes of exhausting himself.

“Hey,” you called with impatience, kicking your foot to land some water on his back.

The sound must have reached him. Yugyeom righted himself and turned around frantically, settling his eyes on you and breathing in relief.

“Hi, baby,” he replied cutely, running a hand down his face.

Gripping the edge of the pool, you kicked your legs back and forth to churn the water around them in exchange for some warmth from friction to bite the chill. “Did you forget I was coming?” you asked sheepishly.

He had sent you a text about his troubles with insomnia and eluded to a swim. Though you were tired, you would never pass up the opportunity to spend precious time with him.

Yugyeom shook his head and said, “No, I’m just going insane.”

You chuckled. By looking at him, you could tell he was alight with energy. While everyone slept, he tossed and turned, too amped up for peace and quiet.

“Are you getting in?” Yugyeom pressed, sidling toward you. His bare chest was on display and you could catch a glimpse of the large tattoo on his side, distorted by the waters.

Pretending to shiver, you whined, “It’s cold.”

Yugyeom let himself float, the water coming up to his chin. His eyes were boring into yours before they left to scan your body in the bikini. The blue hues were reflecting off of your skin and especially in your eyes. In that moment, Yugyeom knew he could devour you whole, but wouldn’t dare in such an exposed place.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he flirted softly, tilting his head.

Smiling, you pretended to mull over his suggestion before bracing your hands on the edge and letting yourself fall into the depths. The water was glacial, as to be expected in the middle of the night when the air had cooled, but your body adjusted quickly. As you surfaced, you ran both hands over your hair to smooth the strands back and giggled when you saw Yugyeom fighting a smile.

Without hesitation, you swam into his waiting embrace, locking your legs around his waist and draping your arms across his shoulders. Burying your face against his neck, you left a gentle kiss beneath his ear and whispered how much you loved him.

Yugyeom supported you comfortably with his hands tangled firmly beneath your thighs, bouncing on his toes as he drifted back into the deep end, submerging you both to the tops of your shoulders. The singing of the crickets filled your ears, disturbed only by the occasional rush of water with his movements.

The cold became a distant memory with the heat kindling between your bodies. Yugyeom shivered when he felt your hot breath on his neck, turning to reward the sensation with gentle feather-like kisses on your cheek and jaw. You flushed at the affection, tucking yourself even deeper into his warmth.

“Hey,” Yugyeom murmured, jostling to get your attention.

Pulling away from his neck, you situated yourself to look into his eyes and completely unsuspecting when your boyfriend stole a kiss. The peck was chaste and much too quick for your liking, but endearing. The water sloshed as you pulled your hands from his shoulders, losing them in his hair and tugging him close as you landed your lips on his.

You could taste the sharp, tangy chemicals from the pool on his tongue, but the bitterness inevitably faded. Breaking away for only a moment, you brushed your nose against his and giggled quietly at the warmth blossoming in your chest. Yugyeom was sporting a wide grin and his cheeks were burning, now a dark crimson. The same feeling must have been taking root inside him too.

Yugyeom darted forward, catching you in another collision of lips and teeth. When his hands shifted from beneath your thighs to grip your ass, you sighed his name in a breathy moan. Yugyeom didn’t hesitate to let you know how much your voice affected him, sliding his tongue into your mouth. Purring with delight, you managed to take his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging briefly before releasing.

Both of you began to shiver with anticipation of where this moonlit tryst could be heading, but neither of you spoke a word. You were too enraptured in this moment of stolen kisses to let any other desires run haywire.

Fingers winding in his wet hair, cradling his head while he dominated your mouth with his hunger, you hummed softly at the way your body was afire with the sensation of his skin against yours. You could never get enough of this boy. Heaven knows you would have been content to kiss him forever in that pool beneath the moon with only the crickets to witness your sins.

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#mine:drabbles #yugyeom imagines #got7 imagines #yugyeom scenarios #got7 scenarios #yugyeom fluff #got7 fluff

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rubys-things23-blog · 6 years

Text

Hallucinations

He became aware of a faint rumbling. Something big was trundling along the desert path, heading in his direction. Erick’s heart leapt as he wrenched open the car door and staggered outside, spinning towards the road, waiting with baited breath for the car that he was sure he heard. Someone was coming, and when they did they’d have to help him. Of course they would. But something was wrong. The noise had stopped. Its absence left an emptiness that Erick had never heard before. He didn’t understand. He could have sworn he heard a car, somewhere in the distance. Steeling himself, he started to walk down the track, stumbling and scraping already bruised shins on the rocks and plants that stood in his way. He couldn’t be bothered to watch his step, his eyes were too busy fixed on the horizon. He pushed his way through the darkness, tearing through the swathes of blackness with sheer desperation as his heartbeat quickened with every step. I know I heard something, Erick thought. I know I did I know I did I know I did I know I…

And then he stopped.

And he stared at Sebastian.

He was shirtless and standing with his back to Erick. He was silhouetted against its icy light, illuminating the edges of his trademark crimson curls with gentle silver. Against the bleakness of the night sky, he seemed to glow.

“Sebastian…” Erick choked. Emotions boiled in the pit of his stomach and stung with a biting acid. They bubbled into his throat and made it difficult to breathe as he crossed the distance between them in just a few steps and wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s middle, burying his face in his shoulder. “Sebastian,” he repeated, stumbling over the syllables as his whole body shook with sobs. “I can’t…” he inhaled deeply and clenched his teeth, trying to regain control.

He felt something warm and sticky oozing from between his fingers resting on Sebastian’s stomach. Startled, he pulled back and examined his hands under the soft moonlight. His fingers sparkled crimson, like tongues of fire. He screamed his friend’s name and spun him around. From the waist down, Sebastian was drenched in scarlet gore, spilling from the gash in his stomach that was so deep Erick could see the soft, pink coils of intestines. Blood dripped from the side of Sebastian’s open mouth and ran down his chin. His eyes were bleak and empty as he reached for Erick with dirt-caked fingers. “Help me,” he moaned, and fell to the ground with a thud.

Erick dropped to his knees and grabbed Sebastian’s shoulder to turn him around. Sebastian started writhing in agony. “It hurts, it hurts! Make it stop, make it go away!” he wailed.

“I know, I know! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Erick sobbed. He finally managed to get Sebastian onto his back and realised that there was blood pouring from underneath his fingers. Confused, he pulled his hand away, revealing a shoulder wound that he hadn’t noticed was there. His brow furrowed in agonised panic as his hands fluttered over Sebastian’s body, barely able to breathe let alone think.

He grabbed Sebastian’s forearm, and the boy’s screaming intensified, arching his back impossibly high. “KILL ME!” he begged to the stars. Erick leapt back and saw that there was another gash on Sebastian’s arm.

“I don’t understand!” Erick shouted. He put his hand back on the dirt, but as he did his fingertips brushed Sebastian’s leg. Sebastian yelped and Erick watched in absolute disbelief as a small cut blossomed to life on Sebastian’s leg, following the exact path his fingertip had traced.

It was him. His hands were causing the wounds on Sebastian’s skin.

Screaming, Erick staggered backwards and left Sebastian on the ground. The wailing was too much to bear, so he crouched down and clamped his hands over his ears. His whole body was shaking. “I’m sorry!” Erick shouted. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” His words dissolved into sobs as his grief ate his body from the inside out. The next time he dared to glance up, Sebastian was lying lifeless in a pool of his own blood with his face frozen in agony and the moon reflected in his eyes. Cautiously, Erick pulled his hands away from his face and looked at them.

There was blood on his hands.

Blood on his hands.

Sebastian’s blood on his hands.

Sebastian.

Erick retched and doubled over on all fours, emptying his guts onto the ground. The acid burned his throat. His body became drenched in sweat as his vision swam and his muscles shook. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked back towards Sebastian’s corpse, but it was gone. In its place stood a…well not a man, but something similar wrapped in a tattered grey robe. Its skin was stretched tight over bulging bones as skeletal fingers tapped a haunting rhythm on the slender handle of its shining silver scythe. Curtains of greasy grey hair stuck to its face, obscuring its expression.

“Who…who are you?” Erick choked.

The thing let out a hollow chuckle and raised its head. Maggots writhed in the empty sockets where its eyes should have been. The entirety of its right cheek had been scraped away, leaving trails of loose skin that drifted in the wind. Its teeth were yellow-brown and riddled with holes like it was rotting from the inside out. “I’m…” it paused to take a deep breath. Erick could see each individual bone of its ribcage rattling with the movement of its lungs. “…you.”

Erick blinked, and all of a sudden the creature was standing right in front of him, bent double so that its face was barely centimetres from Erick’ own. Its breath stank like rotting corpses left out in the sun. “And no matter how hard you try…”, it’s rattling breath echoed in Erick’ ears, “…I’m never leaving.”

#gore #mental health #original #exerpts #fear #scary #hurt #pain #emotional #blood #skeleton #skin #nighttime #dark

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fableweaver · 5 years

Text

Arc of the Little Saint

Dreaming of colored mist and suns among stars, Demi walked past the burning tree and into the forest in the sky. She wandered hidden paths, seeing spirits wandering much like her. Some met and embraced, some laughed and feasted, and some sat in silent contemplation of the wonders around them. These were the dead, yet Demi knew she did not belong here.

Before she had seen dragons and hints of other creatures, but Demi was walking the paths of the dead in this strange forest. She did not encounter those creatures here. She kept going, avoiding paths that had light and voices, seeing creatures of legend down those paths. Demi soon found herself in shadows, the light of the stars and moons dim here. The air was heavy, laden with silence so Demi walked softly through the mossy forest.

She came upon a great twisted weeping willow. Demi walked under the hanging foliage amazed at the beauty of the tree, the pale silver leaves almost glowing in the dim light. She stopped shocked when under the tree she saw what hung from the drooping foliage. Heads hung in the tree, thousands of severed heads. Demi stared shocked, but the heads were not bloody, their eyes closed as if in sleep. Hesitantly Demi went up to one to see the features of the head were odd.

The man’s skin was pale, his hair midnight black, and ears pointed. The bridge of the nose joined the forehead which was oval and wide. The jaw was beardless and curved giving the whole face an oval shape. His lips were full and the nose aquiline; Demi had never seen such features before.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump and try to flee but the hand that held her had more power than her. She was turned around to face a woman that only mildly resembled a human. Her features were much like that heads, though her skin was purple like she was bruised. Her eyes were yellow against black, and bright like a bird’s. She wore a cloak of black feathers, and a headdress of feathers with a bird skull.

“A lost spirit,” she said frowning at Demi. “An intruder in the Sleeping Leaves. Who are you spirit, you are not among the dead for I see life in you still.”

“I… My name is Demi rah Kartal,” she said at last. “I don’t know how I got here.”

“I am Clíodhna, Sing Shall She,” the woman answered. “How did you find this place?”

“I don’t know,” Demi answered in awe. She remembered now some of the things Slad had told her, stories of the Phay. This woman was one of them, as were the heads hanging in the tree. “What is this place?”

“The Tree of Sleeping Leaves,” Clíodhna answered. “My kin the Dullahan have fallen into a slumber when we entered Tir Aesclinn, none know why. We have kept their heads safe here while they slumber, but if they do not wake when we must march they will be left behind.”

Demi looked at the sleeping heads and reached for one, thinking she could try and wake them. Clíodhna hissed and grabbed her wrist stopping her.

“Do not touch them. For me and my kin touching them means falling into the same slumber. For a mortal soul such as yours it means the death of your spirit.”

Demi felt something odd stir at that, as part of her knew what Clíodhna said wasn’t true.

“Leave this place, it is not for the likes of you,” Clíodhna said. With that she gave Demi a shove and she felt herself fall back and wake.

For a moment her eyes swam with dull colors before her vision cleared itself. Demi stared up into a fresco of Empyria on the great dome above her, though not as she had just seen. It was a traditional painting of the sky and all the gods that lived there. Cael sat center of all, robed in blue with his wheel spinning at his back. Lun lounged on her crescent, pictured wearing virginal white. Sol was opposite his wife with his elder brother Cael nearby, his burning wheel at his back.

Tempest stood on storm clouds, the martial god was wielding both a hammer of thunder and a sword of lightning. Euria was close to her brother, the goddess of rain had a soft look as she let her waters bathe the earth with her generosity. Iris sprang from her sister’s water, a look of laughter across her face as she spread her colors across Empyria. The wind gods, Boreas, Auster, Notus, and Zephyrus blew the winds and clouds across Empyria at the four corners of the compass.

Eos rose on the eastern side of the mural, the gatekeeper of the day and goddess of beginnings looked serine. Eha her twin was opposite her to the west, the gatekeeper of the night and goddess of endings looked sorrowful.

Isra stood behind Eha, Empyria dark behind her and dusted with the stars of the angels and the wandering stars of the Demi Gods. Mercore the Traveler walked with a staff and a compass in his hands. Dione the Lover lounged naked in a seductive manor, her eyes inviting. Mavors the Warrior stood ready for battle in a fighting stance, wielding a spear and shield. Iovis the Hermit, stood empty handed with his palms outward in offering of knowledge and guidance. Saepit the Guardian stood with a shield alone to protect those he was steward over.

Among the stars flew the many angels to guard the Sacred River as souls traveled it to Empyria. There were eighty eight angels in all, and Demi knew them well.

Her vision swam again as liquid was dropped in her eyes, a dry cloth dabbing away the excess as it ran down her temple. Demi knew this was the only way to keep her eyes moist, she couldn’t even blink. Fingers gently took her chin and turned her head away from the fresco above her. Demi saw Alya Princess of Xin look at her with a sad smile.

“Good morning,” Alya said knowing Demi could not answer her. “Did you sleep well? I hope you didn’t toss and turn.”

Even if Demi could move she wouldn’t have tossed and turned, not on the downy feather mattress she now rested on. With her head turned to the side she could see the wondrous palace Akeem had built for her. She rested on a dais in the middle of a great domed room, elegant arches and pillars surrounding her. On the walls and pillars were inlay work and lattices of intricate beautiful detail.

Demi still remembered seeing it from the outside, a great onion dome topping a palace with delicate minarets and arches. Through the great doors she could see a reflecting pool, the greens of the gardens just beyond. They were still in the palace complex, inside Akeem’s harem. Akeem had this built, or more accurately modified an old building, to house Demi. She had no idea how long it had taken him, she had lost the concept of time imprisoned as she was.

Alya began undressing Demi from the fine silk kaftan she now wore, and began washing her. Demi felt nothing of her touch, but she could tell her limbs were now withered and twisted. Alya worked stretching her out, but the snake sand had stiffened her muscles and joints. When Alya finished washing her and changing her soiled diaper, she dressed her again. If she had any disgust she did not show it, and Demi knew Akeem had not asked her to do this task as there were thousands of servants who could. Alya seemed to do it because she cared, though Demi wasn’t sure if she just thought of Demi as a human doll.

When Alya had dressed her she started to do Demi’s henna over her hands and face, gossiping all the while. Demi listened, but Alya never went into important details like politics or the state of the kingdoms. All the same it was good to have company and hear another person’s voice. Alya did mention it was now the middle of Haler, just after Dione’s Day. The only useful thing Alya mentioned was the fact that the rains had not come this year, and there was little time left for them to come before the dry season.

Finished with the henna Alya went about laying fresh flowers around Demi. The flowers cheered her a little though she could hardly smell them or feel the silky touch of the petals. Alya turned Demi’s head the other way to look out through the other archway into the aviary that Akeem had built so she could look at birds and enjoy their songs.

“How is she?” Akeem asked, Demi unable to turn her head and look at him as he entered the great hall.

“The same brother,” Alya answered.

“Leave us,” Akeem said and Demi heard Alya stand and leave. Gently Akeem turned Demi’s head towards him. He looked older somehow, though she had seen him come here every day, he seemed older by each. “You are lovely today my dove,” he said softly brushing at her hair with his fingers. He continued to whisper meaningless endearments to her, kissing her hand and face. Demi had at first worried that Akeem would lose himself and take her while she was crippled, but he had so far abstained. She realized his feelings for her weren’t as shallow as she had thought.

She was grateful for his tenderness, but she wished he would treat her more like a person and not an object to be fetishized. He had forgotten she was still alive and awake or perhaps he didn’t even realize.

Akeem’s worship was interrupted by raised voices. Frowning Akeem turned to the arched entrance as a man shoved in past the guards. Demi realized it was Sect Samson, his face strained and pinched.

“Leave here Sect!” Akeem shouted. “This is holy ground, you dare defile it.”

“This isn’t holy ground and if it were I would have more right to walk it than you,” Samson said bitingly. “I came because we need to talk and it seems this is the only place I can find you other than moping in the baths.”

“Get out of here you disturb Demi’s peace,” Akeem said laying a protective arm over Demi. “I am king here not you Sect.”

“I am more king than you whelp!” Samson roared to Demi’s astonishment. “While you sit in your palace bemoaning your love the Pridesmen are at our doors! Have you not seen it Akeem? The gates are all closed; the Arc is lined with Pridesmen as their Panthra stalk the southern plains. We are besieged Akeem and since you and your brothers have done nothing other than seal the palace I have had to rally the battalions to hold the city. Your kingdom is crumbling around you Akeem, wake up!”

Demi had not realized how dire the situation had become, her heart cold in her chest.

“The Pridesmen cannot breach the walls,” Akeem said. “Evalon will never fall.”

“They hold the Arc now Akeem,” Samson said darkly. “We cannot get goods from the river anymore, even if we could transport goods, Zar Ne Zar holds all the farming settlements from here to the sea. The wandering tribes have all but disappeared, some flocked here, but most have withdrawn into their hidden corners. Any forces you might have mustered are now lost to you and we are outnumbered here.

“If you were to call on any aid from Regis you are sorely mistaken. There is a usurper of the Lirian throne called Feng Loe who has killed King Son. The High King now does battle with Lir to get his nephew on the throne there; he has no time for war here.”

“I know,” Akeem said. “Fadil let the High King call upon the Horse Lords, they ride for the north to cross the Spine Mountains.”

Demi guessed Fadil to be one of Akeem’s half-brothers, a eunuch so that he could not threaten Akeem’s rule. Fadil must have been the general of the battalions.

“Akeem!” Samson shouted. “How could you do this when you are in siege here in Evalon?”

“Fadil said that it would be far worse to ignore Arian’s call for arms,” Akeem said petulantly. “The High King could cut off trade if we were to abandon him.”

“The threat here is far more serious,” Samson said. “You are looking to a future that may not exist unless the danger of the present is not addressed right now.”

“What danger?” Akeem asked angrily. “The Pridesmen are little better than animals. They will howl at our walls and die on our spears, and when they begin to lose they will turn on each other and kill one another before the survivors all slink back to the Sía-Be Róza with their tails between their legs.”

“Fadil is a coward and a likes to get buggered up the ass,” Samson growled. “None of that is true Akeem; Zar Ne Zar will take Evalon if something is not done. Even if our stores could last the year, I do not think the city will. Zar Ne Zar attacks the walls with wanton blood lust, only two weeks of battle has seen hardened soldiers weeping. He does not need ballista or machines of war to take the city; he just needs rivers of blood.”

“I think my brother the general of my army knows more about this than you Sect,” Akeem hissed. “And who are you to criticize a man for his desires? I hear tell you should be the Sect of Dione and the Ocher Ladies more than a Sect of Sol.”

Samson eyed Akeem grimly before raising his hand and backhanding Akeem across the face. The blow rang through the temple and dome ceiling, the guards shouting as they ran into the temple. They grabbed Samson and started to drag him back when Akeem rose.

“Wait!” Akeem shouted and the guards stopped. He stood and approached them, Demi only able to see his back. “You miserable dog, have him whipped and thrown out into the streets. You can die on the walls if you like Sect; I will not morn your passing.”

“It will be an honor to die in the dirt among men who fight to protect the innocent,” Samson answered. “You will die here among your riches alone and empty weeping over a girl that never loved you.”

“Get him out of here!” Akeem screamed and Samson was dragged away. As soon as the guards were gone Akeem ran back to Demi to bury his face in her chest and weep brokenly. Demi couldn’t even raise a hand to comfort him, though what she really wanted to do was slap him. Her mother was out in the city, her people, nomads and city folk alike all faced the Pridesmen. She had never felt such fear, and such anger and frustration that there was nothing she could do for them.

Eventually Akeem’s weeping stopped and he left dejected. Alya returned to feed Demi watered porridge she poured down her throat. She whispered soothing words, sang songs, and told fantastical stories from Tales of the Lost. Demi drifted off to sleep, and once again she dreamed into the realms of colored mist.

She wandered the mist for a while, feeling better in the movement even though it was not the movement of her body. She saw things in the mist as she walked fountains of ice, worlds of water, waterfalls of liquid stone, and much more. The places she saw winked by through the shifting mist, often seen from above like she walked through the sky over other worlds. She never grew tired, hungry or thirsty, so Demi kept walking.

Through the paths she could see tracks of something that had moved through the aether, the mists duller in color in these places. In those places she saw the aether changed, doorways opened to the worlds hidden by the mist. Most were worlds of darkness, Demi shying away from looking too closely at those places. She hurried away from those paths with the prints of shadow and sought instead places of light.

Direction meant nothing in this place, up and down had no meaning but Demi felt as if there was always solid ground at her feet. She saw the mist stirring and almost clear as she looked up into a glowing golden cloud bright between three giant burning suns. She stared at the great golden aura high above, seeing shapes form out of the golden cloud. One moment it was a great castle with towering minarets and great domes, the next it was a mountain taller than dreams, and then it was a crumbling city in dunes of sand.

Demi felt drawn to the cloud as she stared at it and saw thousands of structures and natural structures form in the golden sand. Demi tried raising her foot and taking a step as if to climb a set of stairs and was surprised to find her foot met solid ground again. She climbed carefully, approaching the swirling cloud until she reached it. The sand shifted before her a moment and then formed a great arched entrance.

Demi entered the hall, a structure far beyond any construct of man. She walked upon a wide pathway, the edges disappearing into an endless abyss. Sun light from the three burning globes drifted into the hall in great beams of golden light, thousands of sparling embers of dust floating in the beams. The floor was warm and smooth, polished like burnished bronze. Demi walked along the hall towards the far end where a titanic figure sat on a golden cloud.

The god was easily twenty times bigger than an ordinary man, Demi would have been smaller than his pinky finger. His four arms were heavily muscled, his golden skin rippling over his brawny chest. Six bird like wings sprung from his back in various states, some open others closed in repose. A shifting golden cloth girdled with a golden chain circled his waist as he sat reclined on the golden cloud.

His features were achingly beautiful, but not at all human. His nose and mouth were flat and stretched across his skull, his ears pointed. His mane of golden hair shifted about as if he were in water, covering his brow and burning golden eyes. An inverted triangle of light hovered over his brow, too bright for Demi to look at.

Demi had no doubt he watched her as she approached, despite his bored expression as his head rested propped on one fist.

“Well another visitor,” he said at last. “At least better than the broken soul eater.”

“Greetings great God,” Demi said as she bowed, knelling down and prostrating until her forehead rested on the warm floor. Demi did not know who he was, he was not one of the Gods of Aeri, but any god deserved a deep form of respect.

“A God is that which is invoked,” the God answered sounding neither pleased nor angry. “I have no worshipers. I am a deity, a spirit of great power older than the stars.”

“I apologize for my error great one,” Demi said. “I am Demi rah Kartal. What may I call you?”

“I go by many names: the Golden One, He that Slept Late, Whispers of Sand, Lord of Time, but you may call me Sandman.”

“I am honored to be in the presence of a deity though I do not know how I found my way here,” Demi said. “I am lost.”

“Lost?” the Sandman said interested. “Come closer little one.”

Demi rose and with her head down she approached the deity. She raised her face to him and it was much like looking up into the sun. She closed her eyes as his light brightened and looked at her, Demi feeling the dry touch of a feather brush her forehead. She smelled home in him, the dry scent of desert sands in his wings. She opened her eyes as he withdrew a pensive look on his face.

“Why did you take the form of a mortal?” the Sandman asked and Demi blinked surprised. “You do not know what I mean.”

“No great Sandman I do not, I apologize,” Demi said. “I am a mortal born to a mortal and sired by a mortal.”

“That does not matter,” the Sandman said. “The size of a spirit determines its length of existence. Mortal spirits are small, they do not last long in time though they can pass through the aether and return to the physical realms a few times before their spirit burns out. There are some with larger spirits, these born of other places or like one people born of a divinity that divided itself into many. These people are called Phay after the deity that birthed them.”

“The Phay,” Demi gasped. “You know of the Phay?”

“They are divine in their own rights,” the Sandman said nodding. “They were once a deity and I find it interesting what they have become.”

“What of the March?” Demi asked. “Do you know of the March?”

“I pay little attention to the movements of the Phay,” the Sandman said with a disdainful wave of his hand. “Though they are interesting they are lesser now than what they once were. I still do not understand Phay’s choice in dividing itself. Deities are the oldest of all for we have freed our spirits of time. Our spirits are the largest and we live on past the burdens of endings.”

“I do not understand,” Demi said.

“You do not for you have taken on a mortal form,” the Sandman said. “I don’t know how or why you have chosen this, or who you are. There are many like me, and I do not know them all.”

“What must I do?” Demi asked.

“Do? Return to where you came from,” the Sandman answered with a shrug. “You chose a mortal life for a reason, so go back.”

“My body has become crippled in life,” Demi answered, feeling tears rise. “I cannot even blink my own eyes.”

The Sandman sat silent as she began to cry, wiping her eyes on her hands and hiccupping as she sobbed. Eventually she calmed and the Sandman spoke.

“I cannot help you,” he said simply. “Go, I have other matters to deal with.”

“What matters?” Demi asked looking up at him to see he was displeased. “Perhaps I can help.”

“I said I cannot help you child,” the Sandman growled, the sand rumbling with his voice. “Do not seek my favor by offering aid.”

“I do not,” Demi said. “If I cannot help myself then I will help another.”

“You cannot even help yourself what makes you can even help me?” the Sandman asked.

“I will not know unless I try,” Demi answered.

The Sandman stared at her pensively, the triangle on his forehead pulsing.

“A creature has been wandering the aether or worlds,” the Sandman said at last. “It is a nightmare, a dark spirit, a soul eater. It is the Crippled One. I caught it lurking around my palace and it tried to lie its way to freedom. I underestimated it; it managed to learn my true name and escape. Though its power is lesser than my own this creature can command some of my power now knowing my true name. The only way to balance the scales is to learn its true name. Learn the true name of the Crippled One and deliver it to me and you will aid me greatly.”

Demi felt a glow of pride that he had confided in her and given her a task. She knelt before him again pressing her forehead into the floor.

“I will great Sandman and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your trust in me,” Demi said and rose to see the Sandman looking down at her with a look of interest. “I will go now on this quest to seek out the name of the Crippled One.”

He simply nodded and Demi felt the palace crumble around her in a flurry of golden light and she woke once again in her crippled body. She lay staring up at the fresco of the gods thinking. She had just met a god, a deity, she corrected herself. And he had given her a task, a holy quest even greater than her last. She somehow felt however they were tied together, the March of the Phay and the true name of the Crippled One. She knew the workings and stories of the gods; everything was often linked in the world in one way or another.

So now her quest was more complicated, and more important. She looked up at the gods above and wondered what they were planning, or how they knew the Sandman. The Sandman must be an outsider, a creature like the gods but he had no worshipers as he said. He must be lonely. Demi looked up at the Gods of Aeri wishing she could offer prayers to them for the Sandman, but she could not move her hands.

She breathed in through her nose and smelled the cool smell of night. The temple was well lit with thousands of candles, lamps, and torches, braziers burning to keep away the chill of Isra’s arms. Incense of sandalwood lingered in the air along with the smell of jasmine and cinnamon. Demi was alone, though she could not turn her head to see she sensed there was no one in the temple with her. There were probably guards at the doors, and hundreds more through the gardens of the harem, palace, and walls.

So Demi tried again to reach out into Empyria, to begin her quest for the Sandman and the Phay, but she could not reach it. Her mind was too alert and awake to drift off as it had before. Demi wondered how long she had been wandering, how long it had been since she had overheard Samson and the King speaking. It had felt like only hours, or weeks, she couldn’t tell. She breathed in as deep as she could, trying to smell the season from the air. It was dry still, the rains had not come. It was cold from the night, but not nearly as it should be in Haler. Demi guessed more time had passed.

She was still musing over this when she heard a man gurgle and choke, the sound of a body dropping to the ground outside. There was a muffled shout and a scuffle, and then the sound of another body dropping. Demi felt her breath come short, her heart pound, as footsteps sounded coming towards her. The person walked with steady silence; on the slight patter of skin against stone sounding as their bare feet tread on the stone floor.

Demi felt someone pause next to her, a shadow falling over her. She smelled blood, coppery and fresh, as well as a darker musk she had smelled before. He leaned over her and Demi looked up into the handsome face of Zar Ne Zar. He grinned, his pointed teeth menacing in his mouth and a smear of blood on his cheek. The ruby on his forehead glowed ominously in the torchlight, his bright golden eyes sharp. He was as handsome as ever, a scar through his eyebrow only adding to his looks. His hair was still cut to resemble a mane, and died golden brown.

“Found you at last little bird,” Zar Ne Zar said lowly. “You thought you escaped me but that is not so.”

Demi could only breath heavier in fear, she could not answer. Though Zar must have seen the question in her eyes for he chuckled.

“You are wondering why I am here?” Zar asked. “After all in this state you cannot lead me to the Ró-Hre or the Ró-Ky. I no longer need you for that little bird. I have heard tales of you, how you bragged about escaping me. But I am not here to just save face from those who mock me for letting you out of my grasp. I am here because you will be my token to the throne of Xin. That little brat of a King will trade his kingdom for your life, and I shall sit on the throne of the greatest kingdom of the Nine.”

Demi tried to cry out, but all that she managed was a strangled squeak in her throat. Zar Ne Zar laughed and stroked her cheek.

“Do not worry little bird, I will let you see the face of your lover before I kill you,” he said softly. “Though I do not guarantee it will still be on his head. Now come, the night is young and Isra has long been my whore.”

Demi felt her gore rise as Zar Ne Zar scooped her up with ease, cradling her like a babe. He walked out into the night, Demi seeing two guards lying in pools of blood. Stalking around in the garden clearing was his Panthra. Zar Ne Zar walked up to the beast and stopped before it, the giant lion growling as it sniffed at Demi.

“Easy Dakarai,” Zar Ne Zar said to the Panthra. “I have not introduced you little bird to my Panthra. Dakarai is the greatest of the Panthra, when he was born he had already eaten all his brothers in the womb, and killed his mother coming into this world. He is a warrior of great purpose.”

The male Panthra bared his teeth and growled, Demi feeling the desire to shiver in fear, but was unable to move. Zar Ne Zar mounted up onto the Panthra with her still in his arms, leaping up gracefully. He had no saddle, and settled her before him nestled in Dakarai’s mane. With a kick of his heels the Panthra leapt away, running through the jungles of the garden. Demi couldn’t see much in the dark as they ran through the foliage, but she could tell they traveled swiftly.

It wasn’t long until they had reached one of the garden walls, Dakarai leaping over the wall with a cat’s ease. The other side was more gardens and more of the palace buildings, Dakarai running through these as well. Then they approached the outer wall, torches and guards lining the wall. The guards shouted and Demi heard bows drawn and fired. Zar Ne Zar laughed and Demi saw him snatch an arrow out of the air with his bare hand. He reversed the arrow and threw it back, Demi hearing a man scream as the arrow found its mark.

Dakarai reached the wall in heartbeats and scrambled up the taller expanse in three mighty leaps. Guards shouted and screamed as Dakarai attacked, Zar Ne Zar howling. He drew out his spear from the bandolier across his back and began stabbing out with it. Demi saw a guard charging forward with a sword for Dakarai’s flank. Zar Ne Zar leapt from the Panthra’s back with gymnast grace and landed in the man’s path. He lashed out with his spear in a quick jab, catching the man in the throat before he could even shout.

Now Zar Ne Zar was among the men he fought with vicious speed and ferocious energy, in moments the guards lay dead from either his spear or Dakarai’s fangs. More were coming, whistles and horns of alarm blaring in the night. Zar Ne Zar howled one last time, Dakarai joining him before Zar leapt back onto the Panthra’s back. They leapt from the wall into the waiting arms of the lake below.

Demi gasped as the cold water closed over them and they surfaced, Dakarai paddling water powerfully with his six great legs. Arrows followed them, but once again Zar Ne Zar batted them away until they were out of range. For a little while they swam unchallenged until they reached the middle of the lake where three skiffs full of guards plied their way towards them. Two closed in from the left and one from the right, the men rowing with all their might to catch up with Dakarai.

Zar Ne Zar stood up on Dakarai’s back as arrows began to fly, batting them away each time. The forefront skiff caught up with them, but Zar Ne Zar leapt aboard before anything could be done. There were screams and shouts as Zar Ne Zar did battle, but as he fought the skiff on the left caught up. Dakarai turned and lashed out at the vessel, using his weight to capsize it.

As the Pathra rose out of the water Demi felt herself slip from his back and slide off into the water. The shouts and screams were silenced as the water closed over her head. Demi held her breath, but she could not even close her eyes as she sank into the water. She saw someone, maybe Zar Ne Zar, try and swim after her, but she was sinking like a rock and was quickly beyond their reach.

Demi felt her lungs burning, so this was how she was going to die. Before she could despair she felt a familiar sensation around her. Little hands took hold of her clothes, a current of water pulling her away through the lake. It was like when the sandstorm had claimed her and the winds had carried her, only now it was the water. Demi held her breath harder, only letting a few bubbles pass to hold out.

Her strength was failing her, her lungs burned, and at last she took a breath only to inhale water. It burned down her throat and lungs, Demi coughed but only took more in. She felt her chest giving way, filling with water with each strangled attempt to clear it, when suddenly it was no longer water she was breathing. Demi coughed and vomited the water she had taken in up, lying on her side as she coughed and sputtered.

She must have passed out because she woke lying on her side, breathing steadily now. She looked around, but only saw a wet stone ground and wall before her, unable to move. Then she felt little hands over her again, lifting her up and moving her. Demi couldn’t see them, but she felt them lift her and carry her down a wet tunnel, Demi seeing the pool where she must have come from.

The little hands carried her down the tunnel into darkness, Demi only hearing the dripping of water. They carried her through the tunnel, over some rises, and along a few twisted pathways until at last they lay her out on a ledge. Demi could see nothing but felt this place was a vast cavern and that she rested on a ledge that looked out over a cliff into the wide cavern. The little hands left her and Demi was alone, trapped still in her own body.

It took her a while to realize something about the place was strange, and when she realized she felt awe. The air moved, not in the singular direction of wind through a cave, but in a steady beat like breathing. The breath moved at deep intervals, and Demi struggled to match her breathing with that of the cavern. She felt peace settle over her, the pain of her limbs settling as she breathed in and out. Demi almost sank into the stone under her, feeling every tight muscle in her body relax.

She did not linger on how this could be, she simply let go of all thought and breathed. Time had no meaning anymore, but her spirit did not wander like it had before. She became one with the breathing of the cave.

:So I am not alone: The sound was not sound and at the same time it was. It was the very vibration of the air, reverberating directly in her skull with its own meaning. Demi could tell the voice had not spoken in any language, it had simply willed its meaning into her.

:?: She tried the same but had only managed a generalize query to the air.

:You have much to learn young one: the voice answered. :Form the words in your mind and I will know.:

:Are you like me?: Demi asked, the thoughts jumbled in her head as she thought of what the voice had said and the Sandman’s words that she was a deity.

:More than you could know. Once I was a deity, as you were once a deity. A lion’s share of my spirit ended up in this form along with many memories. Yet with this change in me I was able to enter this world and create my people, and led the others that had been born of my division. I am Kur, She Brings Forth:

:Demi rah Kartal:

:You are greatly diminished Young One, as am I. It is sad, to see a deity so young diminished so:

:?: Demi had many questions to that that flooded her mind so only managed the query thought again.

:I call you Young One because I can tell you are a newly born deity. From where you were born or why you are here I do not know since you have forgotten your true name. I can however tell you my tale, and how I have come to be here.

:I was once King of the Dragons, the first race of the Phay born of my previous incarnation of a deity. I guided the Phay to this world Miread, I was the first to arrive. I dreamed the race of dragons, They Burn Within, out of the bones of the earth using the fiery heart to give them life. There are many stories I could tell you of my children and the other races of Phay, but I will tell you of my downfall instead.

:Deities are many and soon another followed us here to Miread. The deities should not come to the physical realm in their true forms for it causes imbalance and strain upon the world. Coatltlahtoani did not care. The Serpent King came in his true form, and I felt his coming through my bones of earth. His coming caused me great pain as I was tied so strongly to Miread. So I came and did battle with him so that he might leave this world and not consume it like others he had so taken.:

As the tale was told Demi saw it, the legendary battle between the Serpent King and Kur the propagator of dragons. She saw the birth of the Sía-Be Róza from their battle, the great desert formed by the fires of Kur and the blood of her enemy. At last the two fell, Kur making the great Spine Mountains and the Serpent King the Ró-Ky.

:His spirit died but much damage had been done, his body became death to all by turning them to stone in one last curse. As I fell however his last blow had claimed my head, separating my mind from my body and crippling me much like his curse has crippled you. I lay in the sands and wept, and I still weep for I am so alone.:

Demi sent out her own feelings of pain and empathy, feeling Kur respond in kind. They sat in silence morning their own crippled states. Demi knew Kur’s tears now were the source of the Ark and told her so. She also realized this cavern at the bottom of the lake was Kur’s skull

:I am glad then that I was able to undo some of his damage and bring life back to the wastes.:

:Thank you: Demi said to her. :Do you know what brought me here? There were little hands:

:The Wild Kin brought you here: Kur said. Demi felt knowledge fill her from Kur, about the spirits of the elements.

:Why can I not see them if I have power?:

:You have chosen a mortal life. If I am to guess I would say you sealed away your true name and renamed yourself to that of an ordinary mortal with no powers. Yet some like myself and the Wild Kin can sense what you are. The Wild Kin sought to aid you, why that is I do not know:

:Others have not: Demi said and thought of Slad and Clíodhna.

:They were not looking: Kur answered. :I am surprised they had not noticed the thread upon you as well:

:?:

:One of the Phay has tied her spirit to yours to affect your luck and guide you. Telling by the thread and power I would guess it is one of Enfys’ children. You will have to ask her why she did this however:

Demi thought then of how her spirit had managed to leave her body.

:Can you not leave your body?:

:I have tied myself to Miread too strongly unlike the other Phay: Kur answered. :I cannot walk the aether anymore.:

:Do you know of what has happened to them?:

:No, tell me:

Demi told her, she let Kur see into all her memories and what she had learned. She let all her questions flow into Kur. Who was the Crippled One? How were the Phay to March? What could she do to help? She finished with the most important question.

:What will you do?: Demi asked when she finished and Kur was silent.

:I can do nothing: Kur answered at last. :But you can:

:?:

:I will heal your body, then it becomes your task to do what you can to guide the Phay in their march and find the Crippled One’s true name:

:But what about you?: Demi asked.

:I will remain here, if I were to be healed and returned to my old state the wastes would dry up and the mountains you described would be uprooted. The world has changed so much I no longer fit within it:

:But you do not have to be alone: Demi said. :I’ll come back and I’ll bring your kin to see you. I’ll tell you stories and show you what I can of the world:

Kur was silent for a long time before she answered.

:I would like that very much Young One:

Demi felt how much it would mean to her, and Demi understood her pain more than anything.

:Now let us begin remaking you: Kur said. :I may not be able to walk the lines but I can still dream:

Demi felt herself drift off to sleep then unable to resist the sudden heavy feeling over her mind. She dreamed confused dreams unlike any she ever had before. They were dreams of fire and earth, water and wind, of stars burning with suns, and births and deaths of worlds themselves. These were dreams of gods, of the deities of the higher spheres like the Sandman and Phay. This was what Demi had once been.

Demi woke; unable to tell how much time had passed if it had passed at all. She sat up instinctively before she realized she could. She sat in awe as she raised her hands to her face. Her face felt unchanged from when she had been healthy, her limbs once more their strong frame of youth. She was no longer shriveled and broken.

Laughing Demi leapt to her feet and felt the strength of her body once more. She jumped around and danced, feeling lighter and stronger than she ever had even before she had been stabbed.

:I restored your strength and granted your power of your own to see your task through:

“Power?” Demi asked aloud since she could. Her voice was restored as well, ringing truer and clearer than before.

:Look and see:

Demi realized that though there was no light she could somehow see in the darkness. Demi looked to the ground and saw a huddle of little creatures. They were human in shape, though their limbs were deformed and their bodies potbellied. They had pointed ears and big liquid brown eyes. None was shaped exactly like another and despite their strange appearance Demi found them rather adorable.

:Those are gnomes, spirits of earth. They had brought you here:

Demi went to them and touched each one on the top of their tiny heads.

“Thank you,” Demi said and they smiled up at her.

:They and the undines can guide you out of this place: Kur said.

“Wait, can you not teach me of this new power?” Demi asked.

:I restored you to health, but you are still in a mortal body that has needs of food and water. The water here is fresh to drink but there is no food here for you. You must learn to control and command this power on your own. Know this however, you only have to ask of the Wild Kin and they will obey your will and commands:

Demi looked at her hand feeling both powerful and afraid at the same time. Her quest had been to seek out answers, to find answers and solutions to the problems ahead. She had found Kur, but no solutions. Now she was being told to go and face those problems on her own, to save the world.

:Your task is not known: Kur said sensing her thoughts. :The Phay will march with the aid of the song, and only Eileen can play it. Other forces are in motion and acting as we speak. I cannot guide you, nor aid you more than I have. I have given you the power to take on what must be done; it is now up to you to act:

Her words were daunting yet somehow Demi felt more confident. Kur had given her power, and though Demi still did not know what she must do she felt she could do almost anything.

“Thank you Kur,” Demi said looking up into the vast cavern of Kur’s skull. “I will return with your kin, and swear to you now I will find a way to restore you to the world once more.”

:Oaths are serious matters in the power of the Elder Magic Young One: Kur warned.

“I do not make it lightly Kur,” Demi said. “I will heal you as you have healed me.”

Kur was silent for a while before she spoke again.

:Then I thank you Young One: Kur said. :Fair winds and sweet water upon the long road you must take:

“Sweet dreams and fond memories to you Kur,” Demi said as she knelt and pressed her forehead to the stone floor.

She stood and followed the gnomes out of the dome of Kur’s skull and through the twisted passages of her nasal cavity. The gnomes lead her back to the pool of water where Demi saw what Kur had called undines.

They were salamander like creatures with blue and black skin. They too were human shaped but each one different from the last. They had big blue eyes without pupils or whites, and swam with liquid ease. Demi bowed to the gnomes before she joined the undines in the water. She paddled a moment before the undines surrounded her. Demi took a deep breath and they pulled her under.

She didn’t have to swim as the undines towed her along swiftly through the water. They moved her faster than she could ever swim. Though the lake was deep they had her to the surface in moments and Demi gasped for air gratefully. She was in the middle of the lake, unable to see anything past the water around her. It was dawn though, and Demi cast a quick prayer to the Goddess of the dawn in thanks for her new beginning.

The undines pulled her along through the water swiftly, Demi practically flying through the water. They brought her to a dock and Demi clamored out of the water. Looking around she saw no one, the walls of this part of the palace were empty. She looked back to the water and thanked the undine. The water spirits laughed and grinned at her before they disappeared, leaving the water to ripple a moment before it calmed.

Demi looked down at the water and was met with her own reflection, feeling her jaw drop in shock. She still had the appearance of a child, her fine kaftan dripping wet from her trek in the lake. Her features were the same as well, hooded almond eyes, small nose, round face, and wide forehead. Her hair had grown to her waist in long luxurious black curls, her skin a fine burnished brown. Nothing had changed yet everything of her seemed richer and more alluring, like life had seeped into her more.

Demi realized there was now a glow even about her head, a light like the halo of a goddess. She reached up but felt nothing as her fingers passed through the halo, the cloud untouched by her hand. She looked down into her reflection and saw a saint.

A bird call made her look up and Demi saw a familiar shape circling above. Overjoyed Demi held out her arm and called out to the palm nut vulture. Vega banked and flew down to alight on her arm, the vulture clicking her beak in joy. Demi scratched her under the beak and Vega closed her eyes in bliss.

“Come Vega, we have work to do,” Demi said and the vulture gave a cry of agreement.

#fantasy #series #writting #please read #fairies #dragons

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the-punforgiven · 7 years

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ALL 200

WELL, ALRIGHTY THEN, LET’S GET STARTED

200: My crush’s name is: I’m not sure honestly, I’m kinda not really into anyone super seriously right now. Like I’ve got a few people I think I might have crushes on, but no one I’m certain I do, if that makes sense199: I was born in: A hospital198: I am really: Fuckin dumb197: My cellphone company is: I can’t remember off the top of my head196: My eye color is: Some weird green/brown195: My shoe size is: Too fuckin big I’ve gotta order shoes off the internet194: My ring size is: Honestly? I don’t know, I’ve worn like two rings ever193: My height is: 6′2192: I am allergic to: A very specific brand of hot dogs and a couple types of smoke191: My 1st car was: Well, we’ll see when I get one190: My 1st job was: A Dishwasher, unless you count the middle-school paper route189: Last book you read: Lisa Peschel’s The Runes188: My bed is: A loud-ass-fucking steel bunk bed that I swear is gonna give me a concussion someday187: My pet: Is a cat, her name is Groucho and she’s very shy but I love her186: My best friend: I can’t pick a favourite person, I’m sorry185: My favorite shampoo is: Whatever makes my hair flow majestically like a fuckin power metal album, I haven’t found a brand I prefer though184: Xbox or ps3: I don’t actually use either, but PS3′s got some better exclusives I’d say183: Piggy banks are: A thing? I dunno182: In my pockets: My wallet, phone, some papers, and a pendant with no chain181: On my calendar: I.. I don’t presently own one180: Marriage is: Something I rarely think about, sorry179: Spongebob can: Stop airing completely and I genuinely wouldn’t care178: My mom: is a great person and I wish her nothing but the best177: The last three songs I bought were? I dunno whatever the last three songs on Amon Amarth’s Jomsviking album are176: Last YouTube video watched: This one (Or at least that’s what I’m presently watching, the one before that was This175: How many cousins do you have? Too many. (7? I think??)174: Do you have any siblings? Yeah dude I’ve got like 5173: Are your parents divorced? They were never married, they can’t get divorced172: Are you taller than your mom? Yeah171: Do you play an instrument? Yes! I can play the guitar and the piano, and I’m hoping to learn more instruments just as soon as I can get ahold of them170: What did you do yesterday? Hung out with a friend of mine, spent the night, played some videogames, talked about superpowers. The usual I guess[ I Believe In ]169: Love at first sight: Maybe?168: Luck: Yes167: Fate: Yeah?166: Yourself: if I believe in myself to fuckin fail at everything yeah165: Aliens: Yes. I mean, the universe is so insanely fuckin massive, it’s honestly fucking terrifying to think that this is the only planet out there with life, you know?164: Heaven: Maybe?163: Hell: Maybe?162: God: I dunno161: Horoscopes: Kinda?160: Soul mates: Yeah?159: Ghosts: Yes158: Gay Marriage: Yes157: War: I’m not quite sure what this is supposed to mean, sorry?156: Orbs: ???155: Magic: Kinda, yeah[ This or That ]154: Hugs or Kisses: I prefer kisses, but I hug people way more153: Drunk or High: N/A152: Phone or Online: Online151: Red heads or Black haired: Black Haired150: Blondes or Brunettes: Depends on the blonde. Like, platinum blonde hellyeah, but buy-and-large, brunettes, I guess?149: Hot or cold: Cold148: Summer or winter: Winter, seriously a full moon on a clear winter’s night with freshly fallen snow is alone more fuckin beautiful than most of the shit summer can muster in my opinion, and also there’s less chance of me fucking burning to death, which is always a plus147: Autumn or Spring: Spring, rain is good, and spring has the most rain I think?146: Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate145: Night or Day: Night, for the sheer virtue of not getting sunburns, and the fact that a full moon is so fuckin pretty dude144: Oranges or Apples: Oranges143: Curly or Straight hair: How curly we talkin? Like, wavy is my favourite, but that’s kind of middle ground. I dunno, they can both look really good, I guess142: McDonalds or Burger King: McDonalds, though that comes with the qualifier that the only Burger King I have ever visited gave me food poisoning141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: No Dark Chocolate? What the fuck??? Nah, aside from Dark Chocolate being the best kind without debate, I still prefer Milk Chocolate to that White Chocolate filth. It’s not even real chocolate and it tastes like ass140: Mac or PC: PC139: Flip flops or high heals: High heals, huh? Honestly, no preference138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: honestly I’m ugly and poor and I’d honestly prefer enough money to shower my friends in the wealth an happiness they deserve over a slightly-less-disgusting face137: Coke or Pepsi: Coke136: Hillary or Obama: I’m not gonna pretend I know enough about American politics to answer this one135: Burried or cremated: I mean, both, kinda?134: Singing or Dancing: I can’t do either, but I sing a lot more than I dance133: Coach or Chanel: I’m sorry, this question doesn’t make any sense to me?132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Who and who?131: Small town or Big city: Small town, I get this really weird panic in big cities130: Wal-Mart or Target: Target129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Ben Stiller, I guess?128: Manicure or Pedicure: I.. I don’t remember the difference?127: East Coast or West Coast: Is this referring to where I live, or?126: Your Birthday or Christmas: I would say Christmas since I love giving gifts as much if not more than getting them, but I can rarely actually afford gifts and I always feel like absolute shit for not getting anyone anything, so I guess I’ll go with my birthday?125: Chocolate or Flowers: Chocolate. Flowers wilt, and that shit’s kinda really sad to me for no reason I can describe, sorry124: Disney or Six Flags: No preference123: Yankees or Red Sox: No preference[ Here’s What I Think About ]122: War: I’d prefer if it never happened, but that seems depressingly unrealistic121: George Bush: I don’t know enough about him to feel confident about forming an opinion120: Gay Marriage: Why isn’t it allowed everywhere yet, like actually what the fuck119: The presidential election: There is no combination of letters possibly capable of describing the twisting in my stomach that comes with thinking about that event.118: Abortion: Honesty it’s really not my place to say, like, I’m almost literally the least qualified person to talk about this117: MySpace: I vaguely remember it, rest in peace you dead service you…116: Reality TV: Not my cup of tea, personally115: Parents: They’re… Necessary to the continuation of life and a common occurrence in nature? I’m pretty sure there isn’t really much alive that doesn’t have parents, how am I supposed to give my thoughts on a concept that widespread? Yeah, things have parents, and reproduction’s been around for millions of years, I guess114: Back stabbers: I’d appreciate it if I wasn’t stabbed in the back, thanks, I mean I’d appreciate if nobody was, but these things happen, I guess. Best we can do is to make sure not to do it ourselves and hope everyone returns the courtesy113: Ebay: I don’t use it, is it any good?112: Facebook: Bad. I mean I still use it, but it’s bad. Especially it video player, like actually what the fuck, Facebook put how much money into itself why is the fuckin video player still that bad???111: Work: Money is good110: My Neighbors: I dunno, I’ve never talked to them, Generally they seem ok though, though exceptions exist109: Gas Prices: uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhh108: Designer Clothes: Wear what you want, make what you want, I’m not gonna judge you for it107: College: I’d love to go there someday, shame it’s nearly inaccessible for me in my present situation (i.e. Dumb and Poor)106: Sports: Not my cup of tea105: My family: I mean, despite everything, I still love them, I guess?104: The future: I can only hope it’s long and wonderful, I hope the world can love in happiness and peace for the rest of time. I mean it’s not like that’s entirely possible, but that doesn’t stop me from hoping[ Last time I ]103: Hugged someone: No idea102: Last time you ate: Just earlier, I’m doing good!101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: Also just earlier!100: Cried in front of someone: Uhhhhhhhh, back in like, grade eight at some point, I think? I’ve cried like twice within the last 7-8 years, give me a break99: Went to a movie theater: Back whenever Guardians of the Galaxy 2 was in them, I dunno98: Took a vacation: Like middle school, my dude97: Swam in a pool: Not sure. Not like, recently, but not as far back as the crying thing. Fuck honestly I don’t even remember when the last time I wore shorts was96: Changed a diaper: No idea95: Got my nails done: Like never. Maybe once, but I do not remember that day very well at all, so it might have been some weird fever dream94: Went to a wedding: A couple years ago, I think?93: Broke a bone: Never92: Got a peircing: Never91: Broke the law: No idea90: Texted: Earlier?[ MISC ]89: Who makes you laugh the most: I dunno, I laugh a lot, and I can’t quite pin down who does it the most88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: My instruments, honestly87: The last movie I saw: Harry Potter and the Big-Ass Cup? I don’t remember which one. I want to say The Goblet of Fire, but that seems too logical. The one with the hedge maze of death, I wasn’t really paying attention86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: Halloween!85: The thing im not looking forward to: Actually making a costume for Halloween!84: People call me: Weirdly nice things, it’s almost as if they haven’t met me or something83: The most difficult thing to do is: Stop time. I still haven’t figured it out82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: No, but I’ve also never driven, so take of that what you will81: My zodiac sign is: Virgo80: The first person i talked to today was: My mom79: First time you had a crush: Back in elementary school sometime. Remembering what I was like back in elementary school, it’s probably best I didn’t say anything to anyone about it78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: my fuckin grandma, her presence alone is enough to force the truth out of you77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: Earlier today, I guess?76: Right now I am talking to: You, Anon!75: What are you going to do when you grow up: Kick a few habits, hopefully? Maybe develop a few healthier coping mechanisms? I’m not gonna pretend I know what I’m doing with my life74: I have/will get a job: I fuckin hope so73: Tomorrow: I’m gonna hope it goes well, and probably try to get my rent situation sorted out. Chances are I’m gonna really want to do something with some friends and completely miss the opportunity for one reason or another, I seem to have made a habit of that recently72: Today: I’ve gotta try and get some fuckin sleep honestly. I’ve also gotta remember to take that pill lest my stomach attempt to dissolve my fuckin throat again71: Next Summer: I’m gonna set up my Air Conditioner at the fuckin start of it, like a fucking smart person70: Next Weekend: I’ve got no plans69: I have these pets: I have two cats, two dogs, and two birds, it’s a fuckin zoo in here. I mean technically only one of the cats are mine but whatever68: The worst sound in the world: My fuckin midrange, help67: The person that makes me cry the most is: Dude I’ve only cried like twice in reliable memory, only one of them was actually brought on by anyone, so that guy, I guess66: People that make you happy: There’s just way too many to say, but I’d say a great many of my mutuals, followers, and whoever’s been sending me anons, I love you guys, as well as my Discord pals, obviously, you guys rock65: Last time I cried: Season 2, Episode 2464: My friends are: th fuckin best63: My computer is: Not quite my whole life, but a very significant portion of it62: My School: I’m not in one presently, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯61: My Car: What car?60: I lose all respect for people who: Can openly condemn a person they don’t know anything about.59: The movie I cried at was: It, uh, wasn’t a movie, for one, and for two, I’ll take that secret to my fuckin grave58: Your hair color is: Red57: TV shows you watch: Honestly, I just really don’t have time for TV56: Favorite web site: I dunno, probably either this one or YouTube, I don’t do a lot on the internet, honestly55: Your dream vacation: Visiting festivals in Norway and Finland54: The worst pain I was ever in was: When I got an ungodly sunburn on my back. Now, that may sound weak but keep in mind I was like ten and I burn faster than your average tank of gasoline. Like, it didn’t even compare to the times I tore open my legs on rocks, including the one that got infected and the anaesthetic-free treatment for that, just to give an indication of how bad that fucking burn was. I’ve been literally on fire and that was more pleasant than that fucking sunburn somehow53: How do you like your steak cooked: I’m not big on steak, honestly52: My room is: My own. It’s a bit too hot, and it’s kinda small, but it’s mine and I’m very glad to have it51: My favorite celebrity is: Honestly? No clue.50: Where would you like to be: Somewhere with more food, I’m fuckin starving49: Do you want children: Maybe if I am ever able to competently raise some, but until then, no48: Ever been in love: Maybe? I don’t really know, as strange as that sounds47: Who’s your best friend: I’m not picking favourites46: More guy friends or girl friends: More guy, I think? I’m not gonna count them out, and I don’t know if most of the people I regard as friends really regard me as a friend in return, you know?45: One thing that makes you feel great is: Fuckin, Music, man! It’s just so fantastic, I love it44: One person that you wish you could see right now: My dad. He’s a swell guy, I miss him43: Do you have a 5 year plan: A what42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: Not really? I’ve got some things I’d like to do, but the chances I’ll ever be able to actually do them are… Slim41: Have you pre-named your children: No40: Last person I got mad at: Not sure. I rarely even get frustrated with anyone, let alone mad39: I would like to move to: I dunno, I don’t really have anywhere I could see myself settling down38: I wish I was a professional: Animator, musician, metalworker, I dunno[ My Favorites ]37: Candy: Dark Chocolate Kit Kats, I fuckin love those things so much36: Vehicle: That fuckin huge ass speaker truck from Fury Road that I really want to say is the Doof Wagon, but I don’t remember for sure35: President: Chip Zanuff34: State visited: The State of Bliss is a favourite of mine. I’ve anted to try visiting the state of intense meditation, but alas, no luck yet33: Cellphone provider: No Preference32: Athlete: Honestly I don’t know the names of like any, dude31: Actor: Sir Christopher Lee, may he rest in peace30: Actress: I fuckin forgot her name, it’s gonna bother me for the rest of the week but rest assured as soon as I remember it there’s gonna be an allcaps text post that’s just her name, I assure you29: Singer: Joakim Broeden, Nina Osegueda, Christopher Bowes, and Anna Murphy, presently28: Band: Arsis, Children of Bodom, A Sound of Thunder, Alestorm and Sister Sin27: Clothing store: The fuckin music store lmao26: Grocery store: No preference25: TV show: Metalocalypse24: Movie: Kung Fury23: Website: Wasn’t that asked above? I think a few of these were, actually22: Animal: Snow Tigers. They’re cute but large cats, but with added majesty21: Theme park: I’ve been to like one theme park in my life, I can’t really say20: Holiday: Halloween19: Sport to watch: Do the Armored Combat Leagues count? If so that18: Sport to play: See above answer17: Magazine: I don’t read magazines, sorry16: Book: I don’t have a favourite honestly15: Day of the week: Saturday, I guess?14: Beach: No idea13: Concert attended: I haven’t attended any, I don’t think. I might have been to one when I was in grade two, but that might have also been a weird fever dream, I’m not sure12: Thing to cook: Brownies and Cake! I just love to bake, honestly11: Food: Pizza and Pasta10: Restaurant: The Colander Restaurant. Literally the most amazing fucking spaghetti I have ever eaten in my entire fucking life. Seriously, it’s the best, go eat there9: Radio station: No preference8: Yankee candle scent: I honestly don’t think I’ve seen a yankee candle in real life, ever7: Perfume:Not a clue6: Flower: No idea5: Color: Red, Blue, Purple, Green, frankly I’d have a faster time listing off colours I don’t like/consider a favourite4: Talk show host: I don’t watch talk shows, sorry3: Comedian: No idea2: Dog breed: Samoyeds, they’re so cute I love them so much1: Did you answer all these truthfully? I’m allowed to lie??

#Added a readmore because it's long as shit #thanks!#asks #anon

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neverisalongtime-ja-blog · 7 years

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Chapter 25: #ThePinkAndBlueDay

Hello everyone! I want to say that today’s chapter is on of my all time favorite! I love it, is different but is so cool! I want to read what you think about it so leave feedback!

BTW Next week is the turn of the Josh POV chapter so I hope you all are as excited as I am!

Thanks to everyone who reads the fic, much love to you all! ♥

Remember to visit Anastasia’s IG profile:

Anastasia_Truman ❤️️

Read chapter 24

Those days in Los Angeles were weird for Anastasia. She didn’t feel comfortable with herself, she couldn’t stop comparing to Josh’s new girl, who was younger and obviously more vibrant than her. She locked herself in her house for a couple of days, alone. She did it as an exercise to find herself again, to learn and love herself again. She took long baths, cooked nice food, watched Netflix, wrote songs, recorded some of them and even swam in her heated pool.

She was starting to enjoy being alone. The past months she spent all of her nights with either Josh or Mandy. This time, she was all by herself and by the third day she was liking it. That didn’t mean she was over the situation, the image of Josh and Lauren didn’t leave her head for a second. Anastasia kept feeling empty, sad and hopeless, the natural stages of a breakup, a breakup that happened almost two months ago and that she was still suffering from. When she thought she was over it she found out that Josh had cheated on her and she believed things couldn’t get worse, but she didn’t want to say it because things could always get worse.

One Thursday morning, the blue-haired girl received a call from Eric, saying that in the afternoon they would have an appointment to get matching tattoos with the band logo. It was something they’d been planning for a while, it had been Mandy’s idea and finally Eric made the appointment. The band’s logo was Nick’s creation, Anastasia has always been obsessed with the moon as it involved an important part of her life and beliefs. One night at Nick and Mandy’s childhood house, looking at a sky dressed with plenty stars and a full moon in all its glory, the blonde guy came up with the idea of two circles forming a full and crescent moon, representing ups and downs of the career they chose to have. It was an instant yes for the rest of the band members and now they were on the way to have it forever on their skin.

It was the first tattoo for Eric and Anastasia; the siblings were much familiarized with ink. Mandy already had seven small tattoos and Nick had four large marks on his right arm and on his back. Anastasia was excited and nervous, which was normal, Eric had a little more confidence. Anastasia decided to make her double moon in dark blue with four vertical dots in the lower part representing the four members of Dead Curse; she chose to have it on her right forearm, in the middle of it. Mandy had it on her left ribs and the design was the logo in light blue with a watercolor style background simulating the night sky, remembering the day the sign was created. Nick chose the circles in black on his right shoulder with four stars also in black, and the spot chosen by Eric was under his left elbow, just the circles in dark blue because he like it how it looked on Anastasia’s skin.

That was a great afternoon, the four Dead Curse members were already very close but to share that experience created a new bond between them.

- How have you been feeling? – Eric asked Anastasia while giving her a ride back home, just the two of them.

- I don’t know, I fear this is a never ending thing – Anastasia said.

- With Josh? – Eric asked again.

- I don’t know what’s next and at the same time I’m afraid there’ll be nothing more – She said looking out the window – Like he’s going on with his life and I’m stuck in this hole waiting for… I don’t know what I’m waiting for to be honest.

- You hope to be back with him – Eric said as if he were reading Anastasia’s mind. She looked at him.

- That’s not gonna happen – Anastasia said – I don’t want it to happen. I don’t know if I can forgive him. How can I trust him again?

- Time heals – Eric said – And I recognize real love when I see it, I have it with Hannah and I know you had it with Josh.

- You said it: had it.

- You don’t love him anymore? – Eric said and laughed – Bullshit – He parked his car in front of Anastasia’s house – Do you want to know the reason he broke up with you?

- He found a better girl.

- No. I had a conversation with him last night, I’m gonna email it to you – He said taking his phone. Anastasia’s phone beeped letting her know she had new mail – Read it.

- Thanks for the ride, it was a great day – She said, shut the car door and didn’t look back.

Maybe Eric was right. No, Eric was definitely right. She still loved Josh and she didn’t want to because it was very obvious that he didn’t love her back. He loved a younger, fitter, blonder girl and that’s the scene she tried to tattoo on her mind, she wanted it to be etched in her head like the mark that had been made on her arm that afternoon: forever, so to have a reason to lose the love she had for Josh.

She looked at her phone and saw the message with the conversation Eric sent to her. She was tempted to open it but after thinking about it she let her phone down. She just wanted to forget Josh and maybe that email wouldn’t help. She walked up the stairs to do the tattoo cleaning proceeding the tattoo artist instructed her to do. She took a bath, laid down in her bed, and turned on the TV, on a channel that just showed old movies. Breakfast at Tiffany’s appeared on the screen, she stayed there watching her favorite movie about a high level prostitute, because that’s what Audrey Hepburn character was, read between the lines. After the movie she felt asleep.

Next day she woke up late, her phone alarm didn’t go off and then she remembered she left her phone downstairs the night before. She brushed her teeth thinking about that damn email Eric sent her yesterday. She still wasn’t sure about reading it, it could change everything… or it could change absolutely nothing. She decided to have breakfast first, a nice avocado toast, well, she went for two avocado toasts, orange juice and a banana; she felt so healthy it was weird. She did the dishes and then she noticed the phone on her kitchen island, she took it impulsively, moved her fingertip to the mail app and opened it, and at that moment, at that precise moment, the screen turned black and a call went through. It was Mandy. Anastasia, frustrated, picked it up.

- What are you doing? – Mandy asked with her sweet voice.

- I just had breakfast and you? – Anastasia asked back.

- Not much – Her friend replied – Do you want to spend the day at Venice with me?

- Even if I want to say no, I can’t – Anastasia replied with a laugh.

- You can but I wouldn’t accept it – Mandy said – I’ll pick you up in half hour, is that alright?

- Sure!

The phone went back to the original position and Anastasia ran upstairs to get a shower and dress up forgetting about the email.

Venice was a place where the two friends always found peace. That crazy place filled with unique people, the shore and all the activities around made them feel like it was home. Venice was the place they went when they sneaked out of class back in the day; if they didn’t have plans on a Saturday they always visited Venice Beach.

Mandy always had this dream of living in a colorful house in front of the Venice canals, with flowers in every window and a small boat on the canal in front of her porch.

The girls were thrift shopping on the main street in Venice near Pacific Ave, thrifting was a hobby they both had, finding amazing pieces with history always filled Anastasia with joy; she was a real fashion lover.

- Look at this jacket! – Anastasia said to Mandy showing her a biker jacket in electric metallic blue.

- I love it – Mandy said going through her own rack of clothes – Oh my God! Look! – Mandy opened her eyes big; she found the same jacket in metallic pink.

- It’s like heaven sent – Anastasia said and both laughed.

- We should stop wearing clothes the same color of our hair, though – Mandy said.

- Says who? – Anastasia asked looking at a pile of t-shirts.

- Yeah… That’s not going to happen – Mandy said.

After buying five pairs of pants, four skirts, the two jackets and almost ten t-shirts between the two, the friends walked to a sunglasses vendor spot on the boardwalk.

- Look, nineties babe – Anastasia said showing Mandy a pair of round sunglasses with a white frame.

- Every damn shape of sunglasses looks good on your face. How is that possible? – Mandy said.

- It is what it is – Anastasia said shrugging and trying on a wood frame this time.

- Do you think that we’re childish? – Mandy suddenly dropped while trying on a heart-shaped frame in pastel pink.

- No! – Anastasia answered – Why do you ask?

- I had a fight with Peyton this morning – Anastasia understood why Mandy wanted to go to Venice – And he told me that I needed to grow up and stop wearing “stupid pink hair” – She said making quotation marks with her fingers.

- I think Peyton is stupid – Anastasia was also wearing heart-shaped sunglasses in blue – Does Peyton think it’s stupid to match your clothes with your hair too? – Anastasia asked remembering the comment Mandy made at the thrift shop earlier.

- Yes, he said that too – Mandy said still wearing the pink glasses.

- Mandy! You don’t have to change because a man says so. Peyton felt in love with who you are, no matter if your hair is blonde, like when you met him, or pink – Anastasia said.

- I know…

- Why was the fight for?

- I don’t really remember, something really stupid like leaving a glass were he doesn’t like – Mandy said – Every start of a season is the same. He becomes this anxious monster and everything bothers him.

- It’s normal. He is nervous.

- Yes, but he doesn’t need to take it on me.

- I know, what an asshole – Anastasia saw her friend smile – I say you are going to buy those pink heart sunglasses and the ones with the blue crystal, and I’m going to get these ones in blue – She referred to the also heart-shaped glasses – and the ones with the white frame. But you have to wear the pink ones right now and I’ll be wearing the blue heart-shaped sunglasses.

- We should wear our pink and blue jackets too! – Mandy said smiling.

And so they did. The two girls looked like cartoon characters with jackets and sunglasses matching their hair but they were in Venice Beach so they blended right with the rest of the people there.

- Did you like your tattoo? – Mandy asked Anastasia walking on the boardwalk again.

- I love it. It wasn’t half bad as I thought it would be – Anastasia answered.

- See? I told ya – Mandy said – You know what I’m thinking? We have been friends for so long and have shared so many things, we shared high school, we share our career, we tried to share a house once, didn’t work out as we thought, but anyway. You’ve been a huge part of my life and have helped me during so many times of awe and suffering, you are my rock and I know I’m all of that to you too.

- Oh God! Are you going to propose to me?

- Anastasia Truman – Both girls stopped walking – Would you like to make me the happiest girl in the world and share a friendship tattoo with me so you can take me with you to eternity? – Anastasia covered her face with her hands and faked a huge smile.

- YES! – She screamed – Aren’t you going to bend on one knee?

- No, that would be too much.

- That’s probably the only half proposition I will have in my life.

- Let’s find a tattoo shop.

- Oh! Are we gonna do it right now?

- Yes! – Mandy laughed – There are many shops here, but I know one! Nick has a friend there.

The two girls walked a little bit more until they found the tattoo shop Mandy was referring to. They went in and saw the guy Mandy was talking about

- Fred! – She called him. He was sitting on a table working on some drawings.

- Amanda! – The guy said Mandy’s full name back. He was short, with short black hair and green emerald eyes in glasses with thick black frame, he was wearing a shirt with a black and white grip print and black pants. His body was full of tattoos, obviously.

- Nobody calls me that way so don’t start – Mandy said – Fred did some of my ink work and some of Nick’s too. This is my friend Anastasia – Mandy introduced her to the guy, she smiled and they shook hands – We want tattoos, like right now.

- Well, I don’t work on anybody without an appointment but for your luck I’m very free today, what do you want? – The girls looked at each other.

- Good question – Anastasia said.

- I don’t know. Not our names, that would be too cliché – Mandy said and Anastasia noticed she was still wearing her sunglasses.

- I know! Hearts! A heart! In the left ring finger! It has the love vein which is connected to the heart – Anastasia said excited.

- That’s why she is my friend; she’s the smart one – Mandy said to Fred.

- Let me guess, you – he pointed to Anastasia – want it in blue and you – He pointed to Mandy – want it in pink – Fred said making reference to their outfits.

- No – Mandy said – I will have the blue one and she will have the pink one – Anastasia smiled.

- Let me warn you that fingers are a little bit painful but it will be alright because it’s just a small heart.

- God! I’m so excited! – Mandy said hugging Anastasia – I’ll go first!

Mandy took her turn and then it was time for Anastasia to sit. Fred was right, it hurt as hell but in a couple of minutes the pain was over and the tiny pink heart looked really cute in contrast with her pale skin, it almost looked like a birth mark, she was pleased and happy to see Mandy so joyful. They girls thanked Fred and hit the boardwalk one more time. Mandy took more snaps than Anastasia could count and posted a handful on Instagram, declaring that Friday with the hashtag #ThePinkAndBlueDay.

Anastasia heard her stomach roar and decided it was time for food, they walked to a very nice place on Rose Avenue, it was a colourful café with a wall full of neon color graphic art and mini cars full of books. Everything was overwhelming at first, those bright tones, but once inside it fell cozy. Service was fast even though the place was crowded, within minutes Anastasia was enjoying a plate of Bucatini Carbonara and Mandy went for spaghetti with a miso sauce that was, surprisingly, pretty good. After a couple of drinks Anastasia remembered the email Eric sent her the day before.

- You know – Anastasia started to say – Yesterday while Eric was giving me a ride home he said that he knew the reason why Josh broke up with me and sent me an email of a convo they had.

- And what does it say? – Mandy wanted to know.

- I don’t know. I haven’t read it – Anastasia said.

- Do you want to know the reason after all?

- I’m a little bit curious, to be honest.

- Well I’m curious too. Why lie?

- What if it makes me feel worse?

- What if it makes you feel better?

- Do you really think knowing the real reason Josh broke up with me will make me feel better?

- I don’t know. Maybe the reason is that he got into some kind of trouble with the mafia and he was forced to date the young daughter of the mob boss to pay for his debt.

- Mandy! – Anastasia said laughing hard.

- You’ll never know! You should read it and then think about it. I will be here to support you – Anastasia grabbed her phone – No! Not here. I don’t want people see us cry.

- Do you think it will make me cry?

- You never know – Mandy said repeating herself – Let’s go to your place and read it there. With a bottle of wine just in case.

- You are quite a character – Anastasia kept laughing.

- But before that, you have been through so much pain today – Mandy said pointing at her new tattoo– And you deserve ice cream.

Before heading home the friends did a pit stop at an ice cream shop on Abbot Kinney Boulevard to grab some “Wildflower Honey Ricotta Walnut Cookies” ice cream for Anastasia and “Strawberry Honey Balsamic” for Mandy.

- Man! I didn’t even understand the name of the flavor but is so good – Mandy said while both tried each other’s choices of ice cream.

The ride back home was filled with happiness. Anastasia loved to spend days like that with Mandy and she was more than happy with her new tattoo. It’s true what people said, the first time after having some ink it creates a kind of addiction and so far her ink marks were very pretty. Now they were at her place, sitting on her couch with her Macbook on her lap opening Eric’s email. Before clicking on it, she took a large sip of wine and opened the message. There was no turning back.

It was a series of screenshots. Josh and Eric were having a conversation by text. Eric asked him about Anastasia and then the text exchange took a wild turn.

Eric: How are things going?

Josh: Well... You know.

Eric: Did you get to talk to Anastasia in New York?

Josh: I didn’t have the balls to do it. Are you going to question that too?

Eric: No man, you are my friend after all.

Josh: She is too.

Eric: I’m not here to judge anybody. You must have a reason to do what you did.

Josh: I can control Lauren. Anastasia is a girl with her shit too together. – Anastasia and Mandy shared a glance.

Eric: Don’t you want a girl with her shit together?

Josh: An doesn’t need me. I have nothing to offer her. I’m making Lauren’s dreams come true. Which dreams can I make come true for Anastasia, a girl who has it all?

Eric: The dream of having a relationship?

Josh: I don’t know. I can’t assure you anything right now ‘cuz I know as soon as she comes back to regular touring I’m gonna fall for her again. I don’t know how to explain this. I love her but I can’t be with her, not right now. All the fame and the magazines thing don’t help. It freaks me out that she is too strong; she doesn’t need me, Eric. She doesn’t need me.

Eric: A relationship isn’t about needing, it’s about loving and you two love the shit out of each other. You literally have NOTHING in common with this girl yet you share so many passions with An.

Josh: I don’t know. I’m happy, though.

Eric: You are?

Josh: I’m having fun!

Eric: I have no doubt about that.

- So Josh is a pussy – Mandy said sipping some wine.

- I don’t even understand. He left me because he can’t control me? – Anastasia said indignant – What kind of misogynist shit this is?

- I don’t think it’s that way. I believe it has more to do with his low self-esteem. He found a girl, you, who was at his level, a little higher I would say, and he freaked about because he didn’t know how to handle himself in the relationship. I do believe he loves you, though. He is just lost.

- I don’t give a fuck. He can get lost out of my life right now.

- You know that’s going to be hard; especially now that we are gonna start touring again.

- You’re right but this was an eye opener, definitely. I mean… Josh is a pussy – Both friends laughed. And after all Mandy was right, Anastasia felt immensely better now.

Read chapter 26

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spookyspaghettisundae · 5 years

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Those Who Dare Disturb My Rest

The sun set over the desert, turning windswept dunes crimson red—then painting them in a dark blue hue. When the divine light disappeared beyond the horizon, the sky darkened and made way to a firmament filled with stars. The blistering heat of day vanished quickly and cutting winds carried cold air across the shifting sands.

In their wake, they swept away the tracks of a lonesome wanderer, step by step. A trail of footsteps left behind by a single person, staggering through the desert, disappearing into the entrance of an old tomb with crumbling statues flanking its entrance. And the tracks had vanished completely come dead of night.

The person who had left them awoke. Her eyes fluttered open and her environment startled her. The nightmares had reflected both her fears and her past, and the shock of awakening returned her to the nightmares of the now. She sat up and leaned against her own knee, tracing over her chapped lips with a finger. Seeing the khopesh—her husband’s curved blade of battle—and shield on the cool stone floor by her side reminded her of the grim reality she lived in.

Of her quest.

Neith was her name, an irony now lurking within its meaning: water.

She rose to her feet and struggled to keep her balance. No stranger to hunger, she could cope with that. But the dehydration robbed her of her strength and coordination. Strapping the shield back onto her arm and picking up the sword, she left the deserted tomb’s antechamber and exited the ancient ruin.

Not more long, and she would reach the tomb of Thesh. She hoped. Prayed—for the mercy of the god of the sun. The cold still made her shiver. No matter how long she slept during daytime to escape the brutal light, fatigue had become her constant companion. She sensed her current condition all too acutely—on the edge of starvation and due to her deadly thirst, walking along the threshold between the world of the living and the underworld.

As she stumbled ahead, up and down the dunes, ever forward toward her goal, she struggled to hold on to whatever happy thoughts she retained of her family.

The only thing that kept her wandering. The solitude of the accursed desert weighed against it, like a feather in the balance against her heart. Heartbeats, breaths, minutes, hours—the time dragged on as steadily and slowly as her sandaled feet moving her onwards. There was not one single creature she saw out here.

Half-buried skeletons stuck out of the sands by rocks and crumbled ruins that she passed by, bleached and bright-white in the moonlight. Grave robbers and other strange folk had ventured here before to plunder the treasures of the tomb she sought, but this land was forbidden by the high priests—and forsaken by the gods.

No one returned alive.

She was not sure if she would make the journey back herself, but she was determined to die trying. Back home, her beloved had already succumbed to the wracking disease that now also caused her daughter to waste away in a most slow and painful process. If anything could save them, it was the Offering from Thesh’s burial chambers. A relic of divine power that could heal any ailment, any injury—and even bring back dead souls from the underworld.

Such power that the pharaoh had it buried with him, so no unworthy mortals may misuse it and upset the balance of the world.

She was not educated, and knew not how much farther she would have to go. She was not of strong constitution, either, and knew not how much longer she would be able to walk before death claimed her as well. But she would not give up. Even now that her mind began to play tricks on her, even though she sensed that hallucinations were beginning to rob her even of her mind.

The wind carried whispers—some urging her to turn around, others luring her closer and closer. The wind also carried corns of sand, and with the cold air they cut across her skin like flurries of tiny knives. Every instinct told her that she drew closer and closer to her death.

When she saw a shrouded figure atop a dune in the distance, beckoning and awaiting her, she dragged her feet less. But when she arrived there and raised her weary head, she blinked to unblur her vision and found herself alone. No soul stood there, nothing whatsoever. Not even a pile of rocks that remotely resembled the person she had imagined.

Just the cruel cold wind howling around her. And a sea of sand all around, as far as she could see from the top of this dune.

She imagined that the Offering possessed such power that an oasis and wellspring of water would have formed around Thesh’s burial grounds. The thought of such a wonder kept her going. Not only the figment of a means of saving her family from the jaws of death, but the taste of crystal clear water, flowing past her lips and down her throat, giving her the life she needed to carry on. One foot after the other, she carried on.

And so, more time passed. Her muscles burned, blood collected in her lower extremities, and her head swam. Never stopping, her mind drifted in and out of conscious thoughts of her goal, savoring fantasies of all that might be, and trying to push back the horrors of the reality she lived—both the one she had left behind to pursue this quest, and the sense of imminent death that this infinite desert instilled in her heart.

Whenever her pace slowed down, she forced herself to pick it up again. She reminded herself: she had never done anything wrong. Nor had her family. The pestilence was a great injustice, and her plight—her march to the pharaoh’s tomb—a righteous undertaking. She would not give up. The forces of nature would have to rob her of every last ounce of strength. She would not enter the underworld without putting up a fight first. She believed her heart would prove to be feather-light.

The shield chafed against her arm. The blade weighed heavily in her hand, almost as heavy as her legs. She gripped the weapon tightly and told herself not to let go. One of the few things her husband had left behind, she refused to leave the khopesh behind. And if the legends were true, she would need it—for the ancient dead did not take kindly to those who dared disturb their rest. She had no blessings of priests to live by, only the bronze blade that had cut down countless men and could fell countless more.

She blinked again, fighting against the blurring and clouding of her strained eyesight. Her consciousness faded. Every breath of air that passed her throat was akin to liquid fire. No matter how much willpower she possessed or how determined she was, her flesh and bones teetered on the brink of surrendering to the unforgiving desert.

Every fiber of her body screamed at her, telling her to just lie down and rest—that everything would be alright. But she knew of this madness, that following its deceptive advice would spell out certain doom.

She looked over her shoulder and blinked and winced and blinked again, pushing back the shadows that encroached from the edges of her field of vision. Shadows that followed her, but were never really there. The trail of her footsteps in the sand weaved back and forth, nearly turning and giving her doubt. She wondered if she had been straying from her path.

She shook her head and refused. Neith could not afford to doubt now, and could not afford to waste any single breath or moment. Her eyes burned and her forehead creased as she made another effort to stare ahead and walk as straight of a path as she could manage.

When she ascended to the top of the next dune, she blinked again. Her mind—playing tricks on her again. It had to be. For she now beheld a strange set of statues carved into the face of large boulders, flanking the entrance to some subterranean crypt, surrounded by lush vegetation. Too far away for the sounds to be real, she imagined to hear the trickle of water from the pool in the middle of those trees and ferns. She swallowed emptily just imagining how she would drink greedily from oasis water. Another gust of cold wind made her shiver.

Continuing to stand atop the dune, her tired gaze swept back and forth over this strange place. But what she beheld proved to be no illusion. She stumbled forward, fighting back the tears. She could not afford to cry, could not risk shedding any more water with her salvation and destination turning out to be within such sudden reach. It seemed too good to be true. If this was an illusion, after all, she would need to steel herself for what came next.

The moments passed slowly despite her pace accelerating. She drew closer and closer to the pharaoh’s rest—and to that crystal-clear lifeblood in form of a shining pool of water.

She would live. The reflection of the moonlit sky in the water absorbed all her attention. It served as a beacon, leading her down the most direct path.

The leaves of plants rustled as she passed through them and let them slip by between her trembling fingers while she approached the body of water with tired steps. Collapsing to her knees, she unstrapped the shield from her arm and discarded it with the blade. She leaned forwards, staring into the reflection of the moon.

She leaned forward while cupping her hands and drew water from the source. Neith drank. She did so with care, first wetting her lips, then taking first sips. She knew better, knew to not be too greedy, to not shock her body with this sudden change in state. Neith saw stars when the inside of her mouth turned icy cold and she felt the water go down her gullet.

She savored the sips of water, swaying back and forth without noticing the passage of time. With no sense for her surroundings, she took all the time in the world, forgetting everything around her for those moments. This clear fresh water revived her.

Dates grew from the palm trees overhead, but once Neith caught herself eyeing them with hungry desire, she remembered her quest and her purpose of being here. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, gathering whatever remaining strength she could muster, knowing that some water alone had only prevented her death, not empowered her beyond her mortal frailty. She took each breath with more force than the last until her nostrils flared and she had worked up the courage she needed to proceed.

With deliberate care, she strapped the shield to her arm once more and rose to her feet with the khopesh in hand. In an almost ceremonial display of reverence, she crossed the arms in front of her as she marched towards the entrance to Thesh’s tomb.

Standing in front of the impenetrable darkness beyond that entrance, she hesitated after all. The sheer size of the arc overhead loomed far above her, dwarfing her. Were Thesh and his loyal subjects giants? The entrance to this tomb sure made it look that way.

Once more, she steeled herself with a series of fiercely deep breaths and took the first step into the darkness beyond. A gust of cold wind blew past her, urging her to press on and go deeper inside. Pace by pace, she descended down wide stone steps. Neith narrowed her eyes, waiting for them to adjust and straining to see around the shadow the moonlight cast from her own body—but not once pausing in her descent.

The final steps that took her to a solid ground at the feet of the stairs ended in grit and gravel crunching underneath the sole of her sandal. The tiny sound echoed in this monolithic hall. The silence that followed was deafening, even more oppressive than the sense of certain death and solitude of the desert that Neith had left behind her.

With the little light that poured in from the entrance, she could not make out the hieroglyphs and paintings on the walls. Bronze braziers set along them shone with reflections of the dim remnants of moonlight. Small rolls of cloth rested in between the braziers. The hall extended so far that darkness swallowed all light the farther she looked, obscuring how long this antechamber truly was.

She stood there for moments that could have been an eternity, lost in thought. So close and yet so far from the Offering that she sought. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up straight and when she looked down to her side, she caught her hand holding the khopesh to be trembling. She swallowed to rediscover the bravery that had carried her this far, despite all odds.

And then a shuffling sound broke the silence. Her eyes darted to the source and every muscle in her body turned as tense as steel. She had not thought, only reacted, now staring over the edge of the shield into this ominous darkness.

Another sound followed, the rustling of fabric sweeping over cold stone. The rolls of cloth along the walls moved. First only a finger’s width, then more. The absence of light remained, but the hallway awoke and Neith’s blood drained from her face, the dread surging through her limbs and sweat breaking out of every pore.

The rolls of cloth moved until they rose, revealing gaunt figures that turned and stared. A cloth fell completely from one and floated to the ground with an almost gentle slowness, another pulled at the decaying fabric and revealed skin with a texture so dull that no human should show. A dozen faces stared at her, eyeless, featureless, with mouths agape, and not breathing—only exhaling. The air that escaped the lips sounded like the final breaths of the dying—some in peace, some in agony, and some in terror.

Then they began to move, taking a single step each towards Neith and startling her in their eerie uniform timing. The step she took back caused more sand and dirt to crunch underfoot, and the sound of it echoed again, deafening now in contrast to how quiet this moment had been. And with that, the living dead walked, then stumbled, then ran. Right at her.

She turned to flee, slipping on one step and catching herself and looking back just in time. They had caught up to her, reaching out with spindly arms and skeletal hands, grabbing at her with a force that defied nature, with a hidden strength that revealed sinister purpose.

She swung the khopesh, but with all the strength the desert had sapped from her, the blade barely cut, it only clubbed into them and pushed these undead assailants back. Neith seized the opportunity and retreated back up as many steps as she could. With neither time nor pride to spare, a terrified scream escaped her lips before she gritted her teeth and swung at the walking dead once more, missing this time as they slowed down with an intelligence resembling that of feral beasts, now wary that their prey was willing and able to fight back.

The mummies exhaled again, spraying dust and the smell of death and recoiling like wildcats readying themselves to pounce, only awaiting the proper moment to attack again. Neith backed up the stairsteps, swinging each time and cutting the air before her to keep these menaces at bay, raising her shield whenever they paused their pursuit of her.

As hollow as the eye sockets that stared at her—through her—she felt a burning dread lurking within their darkness, a hatred for the living. Something old and angry. Ensnared souls that had been chained to dessicated corpses, left behind in one final act of slavery to guard this tomb. Those bone-dry withered hands swiped and pawed and clawed at her, always just outside of reach, with uncanny precision and suggesting a ferocious hunger for living flesh and soft innards.

Halfway up, the first lunged at her and she lashed out with her shield’s edge. It gave way like papyrus and mud would and emitted only a soft crack, but the force sufficed to push it back. As it went reeling and then tumbling back down from whence it came, others charged past, right into the sweeping swing of her blade. It kept them at bay for the next few steps but she slipped once more and felt the searing pain of pointy fingertips digging into the skin around her sternum and drawing blood. The mummies were upon her and she thrashed wildly to push them back once more, dragging herself up the steps and feeling one scratch open fresh wounds along the length of her calf.

Neith had suffered too much to get here and was unwilling to die now, so a cold fury gripped her heart and escaped her in form of a furious shriek as she pushed them back once more. The khopesh broke through dried skin and bones as she chopped into an arm attached to the hand that held her by an ankle. She thrashed with all her might to gain some space and crawled up more steps, fending off more mummified hands from grabbing her by hiding behind the shield as best she could.

Hands clawed past her side, parting skin to make way for blood to pour out and open painful injuries. The horde of undead proved their relentlessness despite each swing of the blade she took to make them keep their distance. No matter how much Neith struggled to fend them off, they were so many that it felt like she was drowning in a sea of living corpses, only inching away from them. With another yell, she heaved herself back onto her feet and ascended more while kicking and swinging at them without any sense of accuracy.

She stumbled once more but caught herself this time as she had reached the top of the stairs and her heels dug into the sand covering the stone plates in front of the tomb’s entrance. The undead pursuers continued outwards and emitted those ghastly sounds of exhaling, never inhaling, like a chorus of wheezing labored breathing of many dying men. Each time she swung with the weapon, they recoiled again, but there were so many. Her panic and their movement made it impossible to count. They swarmed out of the entrance, fanning out and surrounding her.

As another freezing gust of wind caught and engulfed her, Neith’s jaw quivered and her teeth rattled. Her eyes darted back and forth, she swiveled and pivoted as quickly as she could to ensure that none of them got too close. For as soon as one of them would grab her, it would all be over, so many had emerged from the depths to surround her here. The darkness within those dozens of hollow eye sockets appeared even more depraved and unfathomable than it had before. The mouths of the mummies stood agape, for no matter their devotion to Thesh in life, they all had died in incomprehensible terror when the high priests had removed their brains from their living bodies, lobe by lobe.

Neith raised the blade high over her head, still hiding behind her shield. She uttered words to the god of the sun: she pleaded for might and mercy alike.

Before she knew it, the khopesh cracked a mummified head as one of them lunged at her and a cloud of dust exploded from its skull. Bravery or fury, whatever drove her every movement did not matter. This was survival. The worn edges of sword and shield gleamed as she spun around, doing her best to fight these monsters while lacking the physical strength or technique to gain the upper hand.

Scratches opened around her belly once one of them got hold of her, and her elbow blindly connected to another mummified face, caving it in. But she could not break free, and in a matter of heartbeats, with only two of the unnatural creatures writhing on the ground and rising back up to their lifeless feet with choppy motions, she felt her limbs being held in the iron grip of many merciless hands. There was no warmth to the fingers that clutched and clawed at her, pulling in different directions while they began to drag her towards the tomb’s entrance and threatened to tear her limb from limb.

Then the world was set on fire. Flames engulfed Neith, the sickening smell of burnt hair filling her nostrils and her skin blistering from the sheer heat that surrounded her. The exhaling sounds from the walking corpses turned into horrid, inhuman shrieks and she collapsed to the ground.

Was this what the passage to the afterlife was like? This infernal heat, this pain? Where was the trial—the judgment that the priests promised all mortals?

She curled up into a fetal position, awaiting death. Conceding to the thought that she would perhaps be reunited with her husband, Ahmes, again. The afterlife awaited. At least she had tried and given it her all. Her daughter, Tena, would eventually join them, as well. Neith remembered their faces, their beautiful faces. Neith found comfort in remembering the soft looks on them from before the pestilence. She decided to forget all the pain she had endured to get here.

Neith surrendered.

The heat subsided. The tearing of her flesh never followed. The undead’s breaths had turned silent. When she opened her eyes, the world slowly came into vision. The warmth she felt came from rays of light, cast from the eternal sun rising on the horizon, wandering above the dunes like a fiery and triumphant chariot. Embers and ashes floated from the smoldering corpses of the mummies that had pursued her, now all of them collapsed into lifeless heaps, rendered into humanoid kindling, rapidly losing any resemblance of their ghastly former shapes.

Neith closed her eyes again and let the warmth of the sunlight wash over her, thinking that this hellish change of scenery only represented her passage into the afterlife. When she dared to open them again, she saw her environment unchanged, save for the wind having carried off more ashes from the burning dead. The sunlight had destroyed these wicked demons. Purged the unnatural creatures that did not belong.

She winced and suppressed a shout of pain as she pushed herself up off the ground into a sitting position. The sand getting into her countless wounds burned. The wind cooled her, the sunlight shone upon her. Neith wondered if the god of the sun had cursed or blessed her by extending her life thus.

She looked to the pool of water that adorned the oasis by the tomb. Then she looked back to the entrance of the pharaoh’s rest. Neith pulled her legs close and buried her face behind her knees.

She decided she would finish what she had started, but dreaded what might await her. More than mere legend, architects had filled the tombs of the buried god-kings with traps. And who knew how many other loyal servants of Thesh resided down below, guarding the tomb from grave robbers.

Neith slowly got back up, setting her jaw as it quivered in face of the pain she felt. She turned and lifted her arms, surveying the damage done. Most of it was superficial, but she would need to regain her strength if she was to stand a chance. She swallowed with the weight of the world on her shoulders, knowing there might be a way to bring back Ahmes and Tena should she succeed.

She looked to the dates that grew from the palm trees and back to the water. Now that Neith had made it this far, she would take each next step carefully. Rest here, nurse herself back to health as best she could, and explore the tomb in time. The Offering still awaited her.

Perhaps she had survived the worst already. The desert had not killed her, and this oasis would keep her alive for now. But deep down, she knew: however horrible the mummies in the antechamber had proven to be, whatever awaited deeper inside the tomb would be far, far worse.

And she would suffer each step.

With the sun rising quickly, and its rays illuminating the oasis, she could now read the engraving above the entrance, as shadows had hidden during the night before.

THOSE WHO DARE DISTURB MY REST, THOSE WHO DARE TRANSGRESS AGAINST GOD-KING THESH, THOSE FOOLS WILL PAY THE PRICE.

She was willing to pay that price, whatever suffering it may entail.

How much worse could it be than seeing the faces of her family, turning black with pustules, their skin rotting away from bone while alive?

—Submitted by Wratts

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dinoswrites · 7 years

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Dark Scales

So @selenelavellan has been feeling unwell lately, and I just wanted to show how much I appreciate everything she writes and draws so I thought I would do something in return because thing don’t sound like a lot of fun on her end right now.

Anyway, this is kind of a strange ode to her old mermaid au she wrote some time ago, but it’s pretty different because it’s set in the world of my mermaid au, Black Coral. You don’t need to read that to understand this, just keep in mind the geography is a touch different than an in-game map of Thedas when that comes up.

Anyway. @selenelavellan, I hope you are on the road to recovery soon. I know how frustrating it is to have something wrong with you and no one seems to understand it. I hope this makes you smile at least. :)

Selene belongs to @selenelavellan, this Dirthamen belongs to @feynites

Selene’s dreams turn... strange, when the moon is full.

That is not unusual, she knows, for those with the gift. When the tide is high and that well of power that lies in the depths pulls more than usual, becomes impossible to ignore...

“We can sometimes see a glimpse of the Creators,” her Keeper tells her. “Sometimes they are calling to us from the depths, in hopes that we might release them from their cage.”

So not long after she learns she has the gift—much to her father’s chagrin—Selene swims down as deep as she can. As deep and as far as she can go, until her muscles burn, until she feels dizzy...

One of the hunters finds her, and pulls her back up. It only takes moments, a few strong kicks of his tail, and her head is above water again. She hadn’t gotten very far at all.

“Sulvuna,” he chides her, “let’s save your adventures for when your scales are a year old at least.”

Her father is waiting for her on shore. A scowl on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.

“She’s a strong swimmer already,” the hunter proclaims, once Selene is back on her feet. “You must be very proud, Elgorathe.”

But he only grabs her hand and drags her away. As she is pulled, she looks over her shoulder, to the sunlight reflecting off the ocean and the clear blue sky...

Years later, when the Keeper announces her intention to marry Selene to Haleir, she tries it again. Swims as far down as she can—until even an elf’s eyes can’t make out anything in the dark, and even her shifted form feels cold, her movements sluggish as the water that passes through her gills gives her less and less of what she needs to breathe...

Only once she is as far down as she can go, only with the ocean pressing into every part of her so tightly she thinks she might burst—only then does she open her mouth and scream.

But there is no wisdom, in return for her sorrows. No promises of aid, no whispers of a world long gone. Only her, alone, in the pressure and darkness of the ocean around her that calls, always calls, but never gives anything in return.

When she surfaces again, and slips away from her emerald scales, her coral fins, she returns to her father’s aravel without complaint, ready to spend her last night there. Resigned, once and for all, to the fate ordained to her.

It’s a full moon, that night. The tide is high, humming under her skin, thrumming through her veins, beating in her ears steady, and clear.

She dreams of scales, deeper and darker than the night sky—and interspersed among that void are single scales that gleam, little points of soft, warm light against a blanket of gentle, soothing darkness.

His fins are as great and broad as a dragon’s wings, and he wears a mask of whale bone.

“I heard you cry out in the deep,” he whispers.

She almost laughs. “I did not think anyone was listening.”

And then, acting on an impulse she doesn’t quite understand, she reaches up. Drags her fingers along those dark fins, fluttering as if in a current, to find them soft to her touch—delicate. Textured, almost like a bit of fine lace her mother had owned.

It takes him a long time to reply. As if he is stunned to silence, by just a simple touch.

“Would you like to hear a secret?” he asks, sounding almost breathless.

She hums. Trying to see past the shadows his mask makes over his eyes, and not quite succeeding. “Alright.”

He reaches down then, and presses a finger to her lips. So delicately, as if worried he might hurt her.

His skin is very soft, and very, very warm.

“The man on watch tonight will lie in the morning, and tell them he did not see which way you swam.”

She wakes with a start to cold night air, heavy rain on the aravel overturned above her and her father’s bedroll beside her, empty.

The man on watch is the same one who’d pulled her from the depths as a child—and he meets her gaze, sees her standing knee-deep in water in the middle of a storm, and holds it for a long, agonizing moment before he pointedly looks the other way.

It’s been nearly a year, and she dreams of the dark-scaled man every single full moon.

He never says his name—and she’s got her guesses, but she’s not bold or foolish enough to voice them to him. If he’s even real, or just some figment of her imagination.

She thinks he might be a demon—Des certainly is, though he’s too impatient to wait a month in between his visits. And while Des is always asking—sometimes appearing with dark scales and broad fins because she almost says yes when he does—her monthly visitor never asks her for anything. He only offers—knowledge, spells, what things might help her survive or secure a place for herself in this world—and while she keeps waiting for it, he never makes demands in return.

She thinks that he is... kind. For a rather consistent hallucination brought upon by the pull of the magic trapped in the deep.

Only one night, he doesn’t show up. Des is there—and he makes a really good show at pretending to be him, whalebone mask and all, but he is much too forward with his touches and calls her Sulvuna and she knows...

She is not disappointed, when she wakes to a grey dawn. That is not—no.

Some months ago, her mysterious friend directed her to a small village that rests among the islands east of Antiva. The people there needed someone with a healer’s skills, and are very good at looking the other way when magic is required to heal a wound. And they are content to let her teach the younger children how to read and work some basic numbers, on days when there are no nets to mend or when the catches are poor—which brings her more delight than she could ever have imagined she would find, living with her clan.

She tells stories, helps mend nets, and teaches them what they can eat and what they can’t. Much their parents already know, of course, but they are kind enough to let her take the role of teacher, in exchange for minding the children.

The ocean pulls, of course. It always does. And she aches to slip into her other skin, to feel the currents racing about her once more, and there are days where she wants nothing but to find a wild pod of halla and swim off with them, for a while.

But she is content, here. No one asks more of her than she is willing to give, and they always leave her to be as aloof and mysterious as she chooses.

She is often the first one they come to find, when something strange washes ashore. And with all the battles raging at sea these days, more than once that has been a near-dead sailor, a survivor of some wreck or other.

So she’s not surprised when she hears shouting through her open window as she eats her breakfast—pouring over a waterlogged book on mathematics someone had found for her, and trying to make sense of the faded passages.

“Miss Selene!” one of the girls is shouting as she runs up the path to her home. “Miss Selene!”

With a sigh, Selene abandons her book and snatches her bag of supplies from beside the door.

The children are... distressingly vague, when she asks for details.

“It’s a man!” one says, tugging her hand.

“He’s not breathing,” says another. “But he’s all funny so it’s hard to tell.”

“All funny?” she asks. “All funny how?”

“He’s a fish,” one of the boys says, only for his sister to smack him.

“Emmet, Mom said we can’t call people fish, it’s rude!”

“She just said that about you!”

And she gets nothing further out of them as they bicker and pull her down to the shore.

The first glimpse she catches, she thinks that some small whale has been stranded on the beach—and then, when she sees wide, delicate fins splayed about a dark figure, covered in sand and kelp, she thinks in a moment of panic that it’s a dragonling washed ashore.

“Get away from that!” she shouts at the children poking it with sticks.

They all drop the sticks immediately and obey, wide-eyed. She so rarely yells at them, and she’s done a poor job of keeping the panic from her voice.

One of the older children is there, and he is crouched by the head of the figure, where it’s obscured by the mess of its fins. He doesn’t move—he only reaches forward, ignoring her second shout of warning.

As Selene gets closer—running full-tilt down the sand—the boy stands, and in his hands holds a mask.

Whalebone, she thinks, without seeing it clearly.

Which is ridiculous, and she dismisses the thought instantly.

When she finally reaches the boy and drags him away by the shoulders, she realizes that it’s no dragon, but an elf. Fully shifted, prone, and yes with larger fins than she or any of her clan mates had but an elf nonetheless.

One covered with impossibly dark scales, interspersed with single points of white so bright they almost glow in the sunlight.

Without the mask, she sees that his face is unmarked, his eyes closed, and that he is very, very still.

“Miss Selene?” one of the children says, and she drops her bag in the sand.

She grabs this stranger—not the man from her dreams, that’s impossible—and drags him back into the water. The children shout at her, startled, but she ignores them—just like she ignores the reservoir of magic pooling around her, ready for her to reach into, the itch at her skin, the thing within her that still jumps at contact with the ocean.

It doesn’t take long for her to get him floating—and with a flutter of his gills, his eyes snap open, and his mouth opens and he seems to remember how to breathe.

She stares down at him, into his dark eyes, pupils blown wide, as he just floats there a moment, catching his breath and staring up at her, in turn. As his shape begins to change, his scales sinking into his skin and revealing soft, warm flesh, his fins vanishing, until only faded lines remain on his neck like scars, and he is naked in her arms.

Eventually, he smiles. He reaches up to touch her face—only managing, in his weakness, to press the tip of one finger to her lips.

“Selene,” he whispers, clearly relieved.

And then he passes out again.

When Selene collects herself enough to look up at the children on the shore, they are all standing there slack-jawed.

“See?” Emmet says. “He’s a fish.”

#dragon age fanfic #i don't know who this emmet kid is but i love him #his mother was probably just like #SIGH #emmet don't call your sister a fish #ANYWAY hope you like *RUNS AWAY*#sorry i just had a thought and it got away from me #now edited because there were typos haha whoops

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