#wall mounted rainfall

[il-faut-etre-shooter]

Sauna in Los Angeles Huge minimalist bathroom with a light wood floor and multicolored walls, recessed-panel cabinets, marble countertops, a one-piece toilet, and multicolored walls. It also has a one-piece toilet.

#marble walls #neutral tone shower #ceiling mount showerhead #rainfall shower #modern shower #ceiling mount shower

[blueywrites]

Where you and Steve swing with Eddie and Chrissy, and it gets complicated.

TO KNOW YOU'RE MINE (modern!swingers!au) (18+ only)

eddie munson x chrissy cunningham x steve harrington x you

fem!reader, chubby!reader, minimal use of y/n, body insecurity, swingers, smut, fingering (v), p in v, praise kink, emotional sex, angst, hurt no comfort (there will be a happy ending!)

chapter seven : entombed (18k) | playlist | AO3 | next

🎵 in this au, deftones=corroded coffin. the playlist is a combination of R's sad girl music vibes and some foreshadowing. the song for this chapter is #24.

From the day you arrived

I've remained by your side

In chains

Entombed

Entombed — Deftones

The bathroom countertop is solid white. The sink is recessed, and the faucet is modern and angular, reflected in the tall mirror mounted to the wall behind it. The mirror also reflects the shower behind you. It has a glass front, and the walls are comprised of large white and gray marblesque tiles. The fixtures— the rainfall showerhead, drain, shower knob, and handle— are all chrome to match the sink faucet and the modern, conical lights that frame the mirror. 

It's bright inside the bathroom. The lightbulbs are LED, cool-toned, and the wall lights are joined by discs recessed into the ceiling. Even the smooth wooden vanity beneath the countertop is light birch, and on the lowest shelf near your ankle, two fluffy white hand towels are still folded, as yet unused. The bathroom is radiant and clean. Perfect for a beach location. Plenty of light for preparing for a fun night out. 

No dark corners to hide in.

There's another, smaller mirror on the countertop. It's curved, meant to magnify and assist in the even application of makeup. A neat row of tiny bottles lines a narrow tray on the other side of the sink: hand lotion, shampoo, conditioner, then mouthwash. In another dish, a creamy bar of hand soap has already been revealed. Its discarded wrapper is in the small trashcan near the toilet. 

The thin door is a buffer between yourself and the indistinct murmur of voices outside. The murmuring is audible, but the words are indiscernible. When that murmuring is buried underneath smooth R&B that begins playing on the other side of the door, you finally meet your gaze in the mirror.

Your cheeks glow with a healthy flush. The milk and honey of your satin dress hugs your curves, dipping low to reveal ample cleavage, slitted high to expose a supple thigh. The sweat from the club has dried now in the cool air of the room where you've been hiding. 

You've examined every feature of this hotel bathroom to distract yourself from the overwhelming wave of mixed emotions you've been battling since the Uber ride back from the club. In the backseat, a khaki thigh pressing to yours; soft, broad fingers played in your hair. On his other side, a flash of orange and powdery soft giggles; arms intertwining, porcelain and tan. In front of you, an angular shoulder shifting with the car's turns, peeking beyond the passenger seat; a splay of dark curls against the white fabric. Just four tipsy friends sharing a ride back to their hotel room after a fun night out vacationing in a tropical city. Outside, your lips were curved in an idle smile. Inside, the tide of your emotions threatened to pull you under.

The intensity of the night's moments between you and Eddie— kissing him in the middle of the crowded dance floor, holding his gaze during the fireworks show— hadn't faded. You felt raw, like an exposed nerve; your green searched for him even with Steve's warm side brushing against yours. But the trepidation had returned, resurging as you'd imagined what your play tonight would look like. Because when you'd pictured Chrissy touching Eddie, you'd felt a sour pinch of jealousy, a hint of possessiveness you aren't entitled to. And because, when you'd pictured yourself kissing Steve, you'd felt a twinge of impatience. As if tonight he would be an obstacle keeping you from what you really want. 

You've been oozing with thick, sticky guilt since you'd thought it.

You can't deny that your remaining guilt isn't the only reason you're still hiding in the bathroom. You're also hesitant to emerge and find yourself thrust into one of those scenarios you'd imagined, knowing that your green will tremble restlessly until it finds the light in brown eyes and the charcoal that nourish it. Still, when the murmurs muffling through the thin door finally subside into silence, and all you can hear is the smooth, rhythmic R&B beat left behind, you know you need to finally face the music, so to speak.

Tentative fingers push open the bathroom door from the inside, and your eyes are drawn automatically to movement on the bed furthest from the balcony— Chrissy and Eddie's bed. But Chrissy's soft porcelain doesn't glide against pale quartz; her blonde hair doesn't drag down an inky chest. Instead, her dainty fingers are tangled in disheveled waves, and her pink bow lips are being devoured by your boyfriend's hungry kisses. You note absently that their orange and khaki are gone, leaving their skin entirely bare. As you watch them for a moment, you note that Steve and Chrissy seem frenzied with hot insistence tonight, more so than usual. Maybe they got worked up dancing, too. The thought is almost entirely dispassionate.

You turn your gaze to the other bed, eyes finding beautiful brown so quickly it almost feels like instinct.

Eddie is sitting on the edge, elbows braced on his knees, legs splayed wide, feet planted on the floor. His hands hang in the space between. Just like you, he's still fully dressed aside from his shoes. The white of his shirt pulls taut across his shoulders, and his dark curls spill over one shoulder, still tied back to reveal the cords of his neck, the angular shadow of his jaw, and the glint of silver hanging from his earlobes. His face is blank aside from the intensity of his eyes, which follow you as you softly pad closer until you're standing before him. 

Eddie's body doesn't move aside from a slight shifting of his hands to make room for you between his knees, but his face tilts up to continue watching as you approach, expression unreadable. There's a tension between you which is nearly unnerving as Eddie stares without reaching for you, without smiling, almost without reacting at all. But you don't feel rejected by his stoicism. Instead, you reach out first, running your fingertips over the edge of his cheekbone, feathering lightly down his cheek. When his face lists just slightly into your touch, it emboldens you, and you let your thumb drag against the plump pink of Eddie's bottom lip in a soft caress.

You feel it then— the first reaction you pull from him. It's the subtle pursing of his full lips, the press of a gentle kiss against the pad of your thumb. Poignant longing flutters low inside you; wings quiver along with the green of your leaves. You cup Eddie’s face more fully, and a tremulous sigh falls from your lips when you feel the rasp of his fingertips along the satin at the back of your thighs. His touch is slight, but his rough calluses catch on the fabric, which drags like liquid against your skin before falling as his hands leave your legs to skim your hips. 

After a moment of exploration, his warm palms settle there, and Eddie applies light pressure so you'll step back and give him room to rise. He towers before you, predatory angles softened by the gentleness of his fingers as they feel for the tiny zipper at the back of your dress. Your eyes don't leave his as the fabric slowly parts along your spine down to the small of your back. You peel the thin straps down your arms, helping him remove milk and honey to reveal your bare breasts and the apex of your thighs covered by delicate lace. 

You're content to let the fabric pool around your ankles, but as you step out of it, Eddie picks your dress up for you, laying it across the nearby dresser with a sense of care he never shows his own clothing. A fond smile tilts your lips as you unbutton his shirt, and Eddie helps you undress him down to his checkered boxers.

Eddie's body feels more rigid than usual as he guides you onto the bed. There's an intentness to his actions now as he settles on top of you, a latent power in the coil of his muscles. When your hands run lightly over his shoulders and biceps, you think he seems tense. It makes you wonder if something is bothering him, if maybe he's changed his mind or is thinking about something else. You're frowning a little worriedly by the time Eddie wedges his hand under the nape of your neck, cupping your head firmly; his face hovers over yours as your eyes dart unsurely between his. The hush, the tension remains as his gaze draws slowly over your face until you're nearly squirming with the need to know what he's thinking. The music filling the room is loud and unrelenting, but with Eddie's quiet voice so close to your lips, you hear every word when he finally speaks.

"I need you to know—" your brow pinches at the seriousness of his voice, "—that everything about you is so incredibly beautiful. And I can't get enough of you." 

It steals your breath entirely. And then Eddie's lips capture yours.

You burst with wild flutters, nearly dizzy as your hands clutch his jaw, kissing him desperately back. You pour all of yourself into Eddie as his mouth opens against yours, and you feel his smoke flow down into you, filling you with rich and heady feeling as he holds you close. Seeking tongues, hot breath; needy whimpers fall as you taste each other, writhe against each other's bodies. You press up into his hardness as your legs cradle his hips, and he bears down on you in return, grinding into your softness. He trails scorching kisses down the side of your neck, intent on his path down to your chest. Eddie nips your skin on the way, teeth teasing as you gasp out your pleasure; your breath shudders as he mouths at the swell of your breast. Your fingers seek his curls, tucking in near his scalp as his tongue laves at your pert nipple before his lips close over it. He sucks firmly, eyes flicking to yours to watch as your lips fall open. The warm wet suction of his mouth sparks straight to your pussy, and your hips squirm beneath his weight as you begin to throb between your legs. 

Eddie's hair looks sexy in a ponytail, but you miss the rugged beauty of his dark curls, the way they frame both of your faces when he kisses you, concealing you from the world. Carefully, you guide the elastic band from his hair, letting that wild mass fall free around his shoulders. You bury your fingers in his curls and tug at the root, wanting to make him hum against your breast. And he does— a low, delicious sound that stokes the cinders of your arousal. 

When your hips press up seekingly again, Eddie draws his face slowly back, tugging your hardened nipple with him until it finally pops from his mouth. You gasp again at the feeling, the sound all feminine need, eyes still captured by his heated gaze; a corner of his lips quirks as he switches to your other breast, tongue lashing your flesh until you're flushed, whimpering, hips aching with the desire for him to touch you where you burn for it most. A whispered word, barely more than a breath as it leaves your lips: "Please—"

It's so quiet, your plea, but Eddie seems to hear it. Or maybe he just senses your desperation in how your hips are rolling against him, yearning for friction. Either way, ever so kind, Eddie obliges you.

You feel the rasp of his fingertips against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, low near your knee; the promise of his touch is enough to have you sighing with relief even before he's come close to your heat. You know he'll give you what you want— you know it with the certainty of spring, of new growth and awakening, of wings that emerge from a soft cocoon after a long period of metamorphosis. Sure enough, his hand travels up your leg, kneading the dough of your thigh as you wiggle down lower on the bed so that his face is above yours again. He drapes himself half over you, bracing some of his weight on one forearm. And as his fingers finally rub you over lace, you tilt your chin to join your lips again.

As you kiss him, you relish each detail of the way Eddie's body feels against yours— his warmth enveloping you, his smoke and apples scent in your nose, his belly pressing into yours, expanding with every breath. You drag your calf along the back of his, and you even relish the rasp of his sparse leg hair against your skin, rubbing slowly as you devote your affection to his upper lip. Eddie's kisses are just as intent as before but less frantic now as he pushes lace aside to find the honey at the center of you. You hum, brow pinching in pleasure as his ring and middle fingers sink eagerly into your pussy. 

Eddie takes his time, fingering you thoroughly to ensure you're ready to take him. He repeats his process over and over, patiently working you up: pressing in, stroking, drawing out your slick, and circling your clit before dipping down again. The way Eddie stretches you open is not slow or hesitant, but his attentiveness has you enjoying it all, down to the sting of his fingers as they stretch you. Even then, that sting fades quickly, leaving behind a sweet swell of steadily building pleasure which grows hotter with each shift of his dextrous hand.

You hike your leg a little higher up his hip, nudging your nose against his as you communicate your increasing desire through more sweltering kisses. And the next time Eddie's fingers sink inside you, he keeps them deep. He ruts in, pinky and index jutting against the outside of your slick lips as he works that soft spot on your front wall until you're panting and squirming with want. A small flame is growing low in your belly— a burning need for him to press you to the mattress with his weight, to drive his cock as deep inside you as he can. A whisper of a whine builds in your throat until it comes out in a soft needy noise muffled into his mouth. When he hears it, Eddie breaks your kiss but doesn't retreat far. 

"Eddie," you whimper against his lips, cheeks flushed, brow pinched, voice whiny and nearly pathetic. But you don't feel ashamed of your need when you see the richness of Eddie's brown eyes, how they're burnished to deep amber with his desire for you. 

He husks a quiet question, breath a warm caress against your lips. "Are you ready for me?" 

A thrill pulses through you at the anticipation of his cock inside you, and as you squeeze around his fingers, you watch Eddie's brows jump. There is no hesitation in your answer. 

“Yes,” you tell him. 

He pulls his fingers out, and his hand settles on the wideness of your hip. And when his wet fingers mould into your flesh, you expect him to encourage you down to the mattress so he can lay fully on top of you. But instead, he pulls you in, pulls you closer, tilting your pelvis and pressing his forward so that his hot length is sandwiched between you. His fingers drag to the small of your back, and the way he holds you against him isn't insistent. It's gentle. Tender. 

Eddie asks you another question— inflection the same as the previous, neutral like a second check-in. "You want me?"

Though his voice is no different than it had been, the question gives you pause. And as your eyes flick between his searchingly, you see it— a hint of something approaching defenselessness. Something that, though his irises are still thoroughly amber brown, reminds you of delicate pink. 

You swallow, throat suddenly thick; your body presses instinctually closer as you hold his gaze and answer him. "I want you, Eddie."

And with your quiet assurance, that something behind his eyes shifts. You can feel his voice, thick and heady like smoke, rumble through his chest and into yours. "And I want you, y/n."

The first stretch is always delicious, no matter how much Eddie has fingered you beforehand or how many times you experience it. That moment he presses his blunt head against your entrance and eases in, sliding hard and hot and so thick along your walls… it never fails to leave you quivering with its intensity. It's always incredible, but this time, when Eddie's weight covers you, and you bend your legs, holding him close as he presses steadily deeper until he's seated fully inside, there's something loaded about it. Because the bed you're in— it's motionless aside from the slow rocking of Eddie's hips into yours as he begins to move. It's quiet aside from the hush of Eddie's breath along your cheek, the sound of his little moans muffled against your neck when he buries his face there, moving so slowly inside you like he's savoring the moment. And you're savoring the moment, too, closing your eyes to focus on all the sensations: the whisper of Eddie's curls against your clavicle; his firm musculature under your hands as you run them over the planes of his back; the tender rasp of his calloused fingers as he draws them up your side, caressing your soft skin; the satisfied hum that rumbles against your throat when you move your hips in tandem with his slow, sensual rhythm. For the first time since that very first time— when Eddie went down on you on the big couch— Steve and Chrissy are having sex across the room instead of right beside you. And, frankly, they might as well be on a different planet entirely. Because whatever your boyfriend is doing? It hasn't crossed your mind since the moment you opened the bathroom door and met Eddie's beautiful brown eyes.

The slow drag of Eddie's thickness inside you keeps that small flame flickering, filling you with warmth as you sigh contentedly against his curls. He lifts his head when he hears you, and his hand finds your jaw to tip your head back so he can nibble just underneath your chin. "Mmm—" You drag your teeth against your bottom lip as his mouth sparks heat along your skin. It adds to your burn, and your hips press up into him a little harder, silently encouraging him to move faster.

But Eddie doesn't move faster, though he also doesn't ignore your coaxing; instead, he trails kisses up to the corner of your mouth, murmuring a hair's breadth from your lips when he gets there. "Will you do something for me?" he asks.

Your answer pops out in an automatic sigh. "Anything." 

When you feel the little fond huff from Eddie's nose puff against your skin, your eyes flutter open, and you see those full pink lips pull into a small smile before he kisses you. You lean into it, chin angling to chase him when he pulls away; you’re nearly pouting as he withdraws from your lips. His thumb drags fondly against your jaw, mollifying you as you await his request. You said it— anything— and you meant it, but you aren't expecting what Eddie calmly asks of you as he holds your gaze. 

“Touch yourself.”

You blink, eyes widening as your hips still beneath him in surprise and hesitance. This is the first time Eddie has ever suggested such a thing, and it isn't something you've ever done with Steve, either. You'd always had the impression that guys would think they weren't doing a good enough job getting you off if you did that while having sex with them. You can't help but blurt, "A-are you sure?" You nearly cringe at the tentativeness in your voice.

Eddie doesn't judge you— he never does— but you do read some incredulity in his expression as he strokes back your hair, smoothing his fingers along the strands that fan against the smooth sheets near your ear. "Of course, I'm sure," he replies. "I want you to feel good, sweetheart."

Your hesitance melts away with the earnestness of his reply, replaced by a low flutter as Eddie voices that he wants you to feel good. Of course, you know he does, but it's one thing to know it and quite another to hear him say it with that smoky voice, with his pretty face hovering so close, with his cock hot and hard inside you. You nod, eyes lighting as you see him smile broadly at your approval. "Gimme your hand," he says, and when you offer it to him, he sucks the tip of your index finger between his lips, tongue brushing like a hot flash before he's pulling away. 

Your finger is slick with his spit as you reach between you, and Eddie braces on his forearms, lifting slightly to give you room to wedge your hand down near your heat. You maneuver together into a position that works— Eddie hovering over you, one of your legs hiked up on his hip and the other slack and bent against the mattress as you search for your clit until you find it. The back of your hand nudges against the nest of his dark curls as you begin to press circles into that squishy bead, pleasure sparking with each pass. "That's it," Eddie breathes, and then he's moving again.

The rhythm he resumes is less languid than before, hips rolling in time with your strokes against your clit. You aren’t sure if you're timing your movements with his, or he with yours— it's impossible to tell, but the effect is the same. You rock into him, brow pinching slightly as your head falls to the side, breathy moans falling loosely from your lips as the burn in your belly begins to increase with both of your efforts. He takes your bared throat as an opportunity, and his face fits there against the juncture of your neck as if it's always been meant to. Eddie's nose bobs against your throat as he starts to really fuck into you, hips impacting your thighs faster, harder, with fleshy slaps you can hear over the room's music. And as he does, you can feel the increase of his fervor, the evidence of his pleasure— his breath huffing against your skin, his little rumbling moans, always so vocal, sounds never truly suppressed. And then his fingers are lightly pinching the shell of your ear, drawing down to the lobe in a tender caress seemingly at odds with how he's fucking you.

It makes you flutter with tremulous wings. It makes you melt into a smoldering burn. 

It makes your green quiver and bloom.

Eddie lifts his head to murmur against your cheek. "Does it feel good, pretty girl?"

You breathe in the smoke, pleasure licking higher. "Yes, it's—" you break off in a breathy moan, and Eddie nudges fondly against your cheek with his nose, lips trailing featherlight against your skin. "It's really good," you finish your sentence, voice shakier, huskier with desire.

You bite your lip as Eddie responds to your praise, one hand wedging again under the back of your neck so he can hold you closer, hips moving a little faster now. You find yourself focused on the feeling of his thick cock reaching deep as you adjust to his new pace. And as focused as you are, you don't notice that your hand slows, fingers stalling between your bodies. 

Yet Eddie must notice because his face is now hovering over yours again, expression coaxing. "Keep rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart." Your fingers jolt immediately into action, pressing quick circles into your now-swollen bud, knuckles dragging against the wiry hair near the base of his cock. "That's it, good girl," Eddie husks, warm with approval. You want to keep hearing his voice— you want it just as much as you want him never to stop holding you as close as he is now, moving with you the way he's doing now.

"I like it when you talk to me," you tell him, voice high and needy with feminine hoarseness. His brown eyes burnish further, full pink lips quirking in a tilted grin, and you can't help but smile back when you see the light behind his gaze.

He touches your face, but where you expect the rasp of his callouses, you feel the smooth drag of his nails instead as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. "I know," Eddie murmurs. "I know you do, sweet girl."

You rub your clit as Eddie fucks you and tells you he knows what you like. "I like talking to you, too," you tell him, pink tongue darting out to swipe at his lips. You want him to know. "You feel so good inside me, Eddie."

He exhales harshly at that, brow twitching up as he stares down at you, gaze locked on your eyes. "Fuck." His voice is deeper, huskier now, and you feel a thrill at his reaction, one that jolts straight down to tighten in your belly. "You look so fuckin' gorgeous takin' my cock. Doin' so well."

Flutter, smolder, burn, bloom. Eddie's praise increases your pleasure, and that quiver inside tightens even further. You want to answer, but all that comes out is a gasp as he thrusts against a spot inside you that makes your toes suddenly curl. "Oh, mmm—" Your voice sounds tight and high, almost unlike you, as you hear it spill involuntarily from your lips.

Eddie is panting now, and your thighs tighten against his hips as you lift both legs, hand pressed tight between your pelvises as your fingers swipe back and forth. "You want it harder?" he asks, sounding determined, if not a little breathless. "You want me to fuck you harder?"

Anything to feel him hit that spot again. "Yes," you moan instantly, "yes, please—" 

He groans as you beg, deepening his thrusts. But he doesn't just fuck you harder. Eddie adjusts you in his grip, and you feel his muscles tense as he leans over on one forearm to hook the other hand behind your knee and pull your leg up higher on his hip. It presses your hand tighter between you, but you don't care— you're rubbing with the flat of your fingers now, your other hand soothing across his flexed bicep, damp with sweat from his effort. He changes the angle of his hips minutely, and his thick length probes inside you as if searching, seeking for something—

A sudden flare of white-hot pleasure makes you gasp sharply; your back arches as your head tips back against the sheets. Eddie stops his searching, holding you firmly as he thrusts again at the same angle, breath huffing in a delighted chuckle when you whimper as pleasure flares bright for a second time. He sounds nearly ragged but entirely pleased when he asks you, "That's it, huh? That's the spot?"

You're so quick to assure him you're nearly babbling. "Yeah, don't— don't stop, please, don't stop, right there—" You hum desperately as he fucks into you again, fast and hard, intent now that he's found that sweet spot that makes you quiver with pleasure. And you are quivering— muscles shaking, heart pounding, breath shuddering as the flame of your arousal catches to a wildfire.

"Fuck yes," Eddie groans, tight with effort but oh, so satisfied. "That's it, sweetheart. I can feel you; you're gonna soak my dick." He's barely pulling out now, nothing more than an inch, just rutting in against that same spot over and over and over— 

Your breath hitches, hiccuping in your chest; tears sting the corners of your eyes as the fire in your belly builds so quickly, tingly and aching and hot. It's that familiar feeling, but far more intense than it's ever been, almost frighteningly so.

"Eddie—?" your soft cry of his name sounds so helpless, wanting but nearly afraid. 

"Hold onto me," he tells you hoarsely; his fingers tighten against the nape of your neck, cupping you supportively. 

You wrap your free arm around his shoulders, clinging to him as he ruts into your wet heat, pounding you evenly despite the harshness of his breath and the trembling of his muscles that reveal his fatigue. But Eddie doesn't relent. He never stops, not when you wrench your other arm from between you to clutch at his shoulders with both hands, not even when you dig your nails into the meat of his back. You no longer care about rubbing your clit as your fire burns impossibly higher, as the pleasure spreads tingly and tight up to your navel. Because you know, with a certainty that you've never felt before having sex, that it doesn't matter whether or not you're touching yourself. You know that Eddie is going to get you there.

You whine pathetically, holding him tightly, following his instruction. "Eddie," you moan all wobbly, betraying the way you're teetering on the edge. "E-Eddie, I'm—" 

You break off in a desperate whimper, that spreading, tingling ache so overwhelming that you can't move, can't think, can't really speak. But you can hear, and Eddie sounds nearly desperate himself as his cheek drags against yours, smoke voice rasping reassurance in your ear. "It's okay— It's okay, y/n, just let go. I've got you—"

“Eddie—!”

You gasp a dry sob and keen his name as you cum.

The feeling that breaks over you as Eddie makes you cum is one you've never experienced before. You've only ever brought yourself to completion with your fingers or a vibrator. You've never orgasmed while having sex with a partner— never been cradled in a full-bodied embrace as the tension snaps inside you, flooding you with sweet, euphoric release that races along your every nerve. You'd float away if Eddie wasn't pinning you to the bed with his reassuring weight, digging his nose into your cheek as he holds you close, panting raggedly in your ear as you go rigid beneath him, pussy pulsing tight around his thick cock. "Holy—" he whimpers, not unaffected as you begin to squirm and writhe with the force of your orgasm, as if your body is unsure whether it wants to escape the intensity of the feeling or crawl closer, begging for it to last forever. And throughout it all, Eddie's hips coax you through, moving slow and tender as your nails dig little half-moons into his skin, as your lips tremble with small choked sounds of pleasure, as that tingling fire rushes hot through your body until it leaves you a melty, quivering mess beneath him, gasping desperate breaths.

As the tension in your limbs finally eases, they slump bonelessly in relief. Your arms remain draped loosely over Eddie's shoulders, and your legs fall open as your pleasure subsides into a lingering warmth. You feel floaty in the best way. Not like before, when you felt you could drift up through the ceiling and be dashed away, untethered from the earth. More like wading into warm sea water, bobbing in gentle waves that swirl your hair soft against your cheeks. Trusting, knowing you'll be kept afloat. At peace.

You feel Eddie's plush lips at the corner of your eye as he turns his head, kissing you softly. And then, as he sighs your name, the movement of Eddie's hips— that steady, even rhythm he'd maintained throughout your orgasm— begins to slow. 

At first, you think maybe he already came, but he's still stiff, still thick and unyielding inside you. A little wrinkle forms between your brows. You ask him softly, "Did you—?"

He stops moving, then. "Not yet," he answers just as softly. No disappointment in his voice— no expectation, nothing but tenderness. You flutter, green quivering as you push your hips into him, drawing him deeper inside you to keep him from retreating. 

Eddie lifts his head, brows tugged up in concern. "You're not too sensitive?"

"No, no, keep going," you answer quickly, thick like honey at his concern. "I want you to cum, too." And to punctuate your point, you bury your fingers in the damp curls at the nape of his neck, cupping his skull with both hands as you pull him to your lips. You encourage him with deep, languid kisses, rolling your hips until he responds. He pushes into you carefully at first, but when you hum, pleased to feel him respond, he gradually increases his pace until he's fucking into you again.

You break from the kiss, panting against his jaw as you tug at his hair to tilt his head back, pulling a grunt from deep in his throat. You nip at his strong jaw, teeth and tongue and lips working at his skin, and he snaps his hips into you in response, flesh smacking again as he fucks you harder, faster. "Mmm—" you moan against his throat, wanting more of his fervor, wanting to give him the same thing he'd given you. You kitten-lick the salt of his neck, scratching at his scalp as you ease your grip on his hair. "Yeah, Eddie, fuck me 'til you cum," you whine quietly against his chin, gratified when he groans deep in his chest.

"Fuck, sweet girl—" He breaks off in a hoarse hum, and you loosen your grip further to let him tip his chin down to look at you. Your eyes rove eagerly over his face, taking him in: plush lips now swollen and flushed deep pink thanks to your kisses; eyes hazy and dark from desire, pupils blown wide, nearly swallowing the brown; pale quartz skin dewy from effort, flushed high on his cheekbones; ink-dark curls sweat-damp and wild and captivating as they stick to his forehead and sway around his face. 

He's beautiful, you realize. Eddie is so beautiful.

"Where should I—?" he asks tightly, and the urgency of the question tells you he's close. "You want me on your stomach? On your tits?"

As soon as he asks, you know what you want.

"No, I—" You duck close and dig your nose into his throat, hesitating. "I wanna…" Though you know with absolute certainty what you want to say, your request sticks on your tongue, clinging stubbornly. 

"Tell me," Eddie encourages you, and you swallow thickly, heart racing as you push the words out in a tremulous whisper.

"I… I wanna feel you again." You will him to understand despite your indirectness. 

It takes a second, but you watch Eddie's eyes go wide, watch his brows flick, watch the way his face slackens with sudden clarity. "You want it—" His adam's apple bobs with a thick swallow before he ducks his head, lips against your ear. There's a pause before he mutters quietly, "I'm not supposed to." 

He sounds halting. Regretful. Like he doesn't want to deny you, sure. But more than that. Because, though you both know what happened last time, Eddie sounds like he wants it, too. Like he wants it just as much as you do.

And you know it's breaking the rules, but frankly, in this moment, all you feel are those fluttering moth's wings and the stretch of your green, the way it's reaching up to twine its first tendrils around your ribs. You don't feel any trepidation, or fear, or oozing guilt. As the green spreads, small white flowers blooming in its wake, the words surge up from the bottom of you.

"I don't care," you hiccup, admission nearly a whimper. "I don't care, just— please, Eddie, I want your cum in me—" 

"Jesus— fuck," Eddie yelps. His hips stutter, losing their even rhythm as his pace turns frenetic. And as you feel his cock twitch inside you, as you feel him start to approach his completion, that poignant yearning wells up in you again, quivering, fluttering with the knowledge of his pleasure, the pleasure you're giving him.

"Eddie," you sigh, tightening one arm around his shoulders and cupping the back of his head with your other hand. You press his face to your hair as he whimpers, panting hot against your skin; you hold him close as his hips rut into you, shuddering a breath as you feel him tense. "Give it to me, Eddie," you whisper, and as Eddie's cock jerks hard, you feel the moment he starts to cum inside you. 

You feel everything.

It isn't like the first time when you were on top. This time, it isn't a surprise when Eddie's hips press tight to yours, when he starts to moan, tight and high, muffling the sound against your sticky neck. It isn't a surprise when you feel the warm flood of his seed fill you. And though you can't see Eddie's face, being able to hold him close while he tenses and shivers with his pleasure is just as good. It's wonderful in a different way.

When his shuddering finally subsides, you wrap your legs around the small of his back, encouraging him to lay on you. And Eddie must be exhausted because he does— he rests fully on you, letting you hold him as his heart beats wildly against your breast. He just lays there and breathes, great panting breaths of exertion and release that puff warm against your skin. It's hot, and damp, and you're sticking to him everywhere, but you couldn't care less. You run your hands softly over the planes of his back, humming when you feel him nuzzle you with his nose. You continue caressing him slowly as he recovers his energy, still buried inside you. As the moment stretches on, you find yourself wishing you could exist here forever— here, in this place where you're holding Eddie, and he's holding you, languid and spent, entirely at peace from the pleasure you've given each other.

Eventually, Eddie shifts on top of you, and you feel a flash of dismay that he's about to get off you. But he's just propping himself up on an elbow to hover over you again. You feel his thumb stroke featherlight along your cheekbone, and your eyes go soft at how Eddie kisses you so carefully. You melt into his kiss, into the light caress of his calloused fingers against your cheek and jaw as he smoothes your hair against the sheets again. 

When he breaks the kiss, Eddie's brown eyes dart between yours. "Was that good for you?" He asks, and the earnestness in his voice, in his face… 

You didn't know you could flutter and bloom more than you already have, but here you are.

"Yeah," you reply, voice tiny and nearly cracked with the strength of your emotion. "Yeah, so good, Eddie. Thank you." And all of a sudden, the sting at the corner of your eyes returns so insistently that before you know it, the first tear has fallen. 

Your bottom lip quivers as you blink, another tear quickly following. Your brow crinkles with confusion, self-consciousness already beginning to tighten in your sternum. "I-I'm sorry," you stammer, shoulders pulling up towards your ears as Eddie watches you with those dark eyes. "I don't know why I'm crying—"

But Eddie shakes his head, smiling tenderly down at you. "Don't be sorry, y/n," he murmurs, smoke voice rich and heady and soothing as he repeats your words from the club back to him— what you'd told him when he apologized for breaking the first rule with you that night. 

Don't be sorry. Don't be ashamed.

Those dark eyes are shining, bright with light that radiates from within him. There's a gentleness there, a gentleness that spreads over the tops of his cheeks. That hint of pink on black and white. And you don't know why you're crying, but you know you're not sad; and when you realize that Eddie knows it too, your self-consciousness eases, and you just relax and let your tears fall.

Eddie doesn't try to quiet you or tell you to stop. He doesn't tell you that you're okay and you don't need to cry. Instead, he wipes your tears patiently with calloused thumbs. He presses tender kisses to your lips and your wet cheeks. Eddie holds you as you cry. And as he does, your leaves soak in his light, roots coveting his rich charcoal. Your petals spread, opening their faces, unafraid of being perceived. And there's something more. As the tendrils anchor around your ribs, vining snug against that supportive trellis, small fruit begins to appear— tiny bunches of green, immature and firm, sprouting abundantly along your growth.

As your tears subside, you sniffle and cup Eddie's cheek, leaning up for a firm kiss. You pour into it, hoping it can convey some of the tenderness you feel for him. Because you want him to know. You want Eddie to know how much you—

The bed across the room creaks loudly then, and you startle, breaking from Eddie's lips as you realize the R&B music must have ended some time ago. The sound of a bed creaking— a bed that isn't the one you're laying on— sends you crashing back into reality. It strikes you suddenly where you are: in a hotel room in Miami, Florida, on vacation with your boyfriend, Steve, your friend, Chrissy, and your friend's boyfriend, Eddie, with whom you've just had the best sex of your life. 

On some level, you can admit to yourself that it's not shocking the best sex you've ever had was with Eddie. But what is shocking is that you'd been so caught up in being with him that you'd entirely forgotten that Steve and Chrissy had been across the room the entire time, just a half-dozen feet away.

You're suddenly aware of them again, but your eyes haven't left Eddie's. And though he hasn't looked away either, you can see in the way he blinks and his vision seems to flicker that he's just gained the same awareness. He's still half-hard inside you, but his stiffness is flagging now; carefully, Eddie pulls out, saying quickly, "Wait there, I'll get you a towel." 

You nod, and before he gets up, you feel his thumb drag fondly against your cheek one last time— a hasty little swipe, like he couldn't help but steal one more touch before he leaves you. You bend your legs, angling your hips to try to keep his cum from staining the sheets. You press the back of your hands against your warm cheeks, taking a slow breath and letting it out, gazing at the blank ceiling as you wait for Eddie to return. You hear his footsteps hastening out of the bathroom, heading for the side of your bed, but they halt when a crisp voice cuts suddenly through the silence.

"I got it," the voice says, smooth and even. "She needs you."

 You lift your head, eyes darting to the two men near the foot of your bed. Both are naked. One is pale and hesitant as his gaze flicks restlessly between everyone else in the room. The other is tan, arms crossed as he stands between your bed and his friend. You watch Eddie swallow as his eyes meet Steve's even stare, and then he's moving toward the other bed, away from you. Steve watches him go, and you glance over at Eddie's destination to see Chrissy lounging against the rumpled sheets, waves of silky blonde hair splayed against her pillow, a dainty hand cupped against her lower stomach to prevent Steve's release from spilling before it can be cleared away. 

You register a presence near your feet, eyes catching on hazel and touseled waves as Steve stares down at you impassively. With instant clarity, you can see yourself through his eyes— the juncture of your thighs sticky with Eddie's warm cum, your eyes wet with tears, your cheeks slowly flushing with the evidence of your thick, oozing guilt. And you feel something else: the thrum of deep shame, prickling like thousands of tiny needles, racing through your veins in time with your heart.

Suddenly, you can't breathe.

You have enough presence of mind to cup a hand over yourself to contain the mess as you scramble from the bed, dismounting near the sliding glass door opposite where Steve is standing. It brings you closer to your open suitcase— a small blessing, as you snatch an oversized t-shirt with your unoccupied hand before making a hasty retreat into the safety of the bathroom again. 

You suck in a shaky breath, heart stuttering in your chest as you puff your cheeks and let it out slowly, leaning against the light wood of the closed bathroom door. Guilt, shame, trepidation— they all resurge stronger than ever as you realize what you and Eddie have done. 

You'd broken the rules again, and this time, it hadn't been an accident. You'd chosen it. You'd wanted it. In the heat of the moment, you hadn't cared about the consequences, but now, as you wad up toilet paper and yank it from the roll, you feel the prickle of hot shame racing as you wipe the evidence of your betrayal from between your legs. You drop the ruined tissue into the toilet, yanking and wiping and yanking and wiping as if your guilt is a physical stain, and if you rub yourself raw, you can cleanse it from your flesh.

But your guilt is inside you, and so is your shame. Hot, prickling, thick, and oozy, shame and guilt coat your stomach, making you feel nearly ill as you consider your selfishness. You think of Steve's impassive face, knowing instinctively that it must have been a mask concealing how he truly felt. You think of what Chrissy will feel when she realizes that Eddie has cum inside you again, heart skipping and thudding at the sudden, horrifying thought that she may have overheard you asking for it. That she or Steve might know how much you wanted it. 

How much you loved it.

Hot tears leak from your eyes, and you wipe them away silently as you flush the evidence of your betrayal. You're still swiping them from your blurred vision as you watch the water swirl.

You're dreading emerging from this oasis with its light wood cabinets and its marblesque tiles even more now than you were earlier tonight. You delay it as long as possible— pulling on your oversized t-shirt, washing your makeup away, brushing your teeth, wishing you had thought to grab a pair of underwear, though at least the shirt covers your ass with a couple of inches to spare. You feel exposed and vulnerable, and you know it has everything to do with the thought of facing Steve when you get out of here. You don't want to endure his reaction but feel selfish for even thinking that. However he responds to what I've done is what I deserve, and I need to accept that.

The bathroom door creaks open into peaceful silence. You peek carefully through the crack, eyeing Steve where he's reclining against the pillows lining the headboard, the side of his face illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp as he scrolls on his phone. As you emerge from the bathroom with tentative steps, Chrissy's hand finds the thin wood of the door, and you startle, nearly jumping as she appears suddenly in front of you.

"Done in there?" Her blue eyes are shiny and bright, and her voice sounds just as perky as it always does. 

"Uh…" Your gaze darts from her to Eddie, who's hovering just behind her, brown eyes wide, full mouth pressed into a long line of bemusement as he stares back at you. "Um, yeah," you say, trying to fix your face into a neutral expression, though you fear it's probably all creased up with guilt and shame.

Chrissy doesn't seem to notice. "'Kay!" she says, flashing a bright grin at you as you sidestep so she can shimmy by you into the bathroom. When Eddie merely stands there, hands hanging limply at his sides as he stares at you, she glances back. "C'mon, Eddie," Chrissy says with a little playful whine, fingers closing around his wrist. "I'm cold, and I wanna go to bed!" 

He moves forward to follow her almost automatically, and you watch him until the door clicks softly shut, separating you. 

You blink at the white door until you hear a rustle break the hush. It's Steve, folding back the now-straightened sheets on your bed like an invitation. When you stare at him without moving, he glances up at you through his mussed bangs as he pats the mattress. No way to misconstrue that— it is undoubtedly an invitation for you to get in bed with him. And what's more, Steve doesn't appear angry or upset at all. In fact, he's currently shooting you a lopsided grin.

It feels like the fucking Twilight Zone.

Is it possible that Steve and Chrissy haven't fully realized what happened between you and Eddie? That they'd been so caught up in their own pleasure that the tension, the intimacy, the first real orgasm you’ve ever had with a partner had gone entirely unnoticed? It's nearly unbelievable. In fact, it is unbelievable. But the evidence to the contrary— Chrissy's usual powdery-soft smile and Steve's usual easy grin— cannot be ignored.

You're reeling, but amid your utter bafflement, you have enough presence of mind to realize that acting strange is not going to do you any favors and will only make the situation— whatever the situation is— worse. So you walk forward, slipping under the covers and turning as you feel Steve immediately click out the bedside light and shimmy over to spoon you. You force yourself to relax as his firm arms wrap around you, and his alkaline nose tucks against the juncture of your neck. You let Steve hold you— let him press his torso along your spine and fit his legs into the crook made by your bent legs, the entire length of his body snug against yours. He sighs deeply, a loud breathy sound of contentment that ruffles the hair at the nape of your neck. 

"Shit," Steve says, and his crisp voice washes over you like a cool wave. "That was fun." 

You've started to adapt to this situation, and that allows you to answer him the way you do. "Good," you say, and your voice is even and warm. "I'm glad you had fun."

Steve presses a chaste kiss to the side of your neck before settling his head back against his pillow. And you realize, as you stare at the empty bed across the room, that what you'd told him— that you're glad Steve had fun with Chrissy— is the truth. That you've reached the point where you really don't mind that your boyfriend fucked someone else tonight. 

That, if you're brutally honest with yourself, you no longer care that Steve is fucking Chrissy at all.

And that should scare you. But despite this realization, the warmth of Steve's body coupled with the exhaustion of the day— both emotional and physical— has your lashes already fluttering with the effort it takes to resist the allure of sleep. You barely twitch as the bathroom door opens, and Eddie and Chrissy climb into their own bed.

And as you succumb to the promise of slumber, soft like a velvet shroud as it covers you until you sink down into unconsciousness, the last thing you see is the image of Chrissy's lithe arms wrapped like a vice around Eddie's back, her dainty fingers pressing into his pale quartz skin. You watch her nails grow, sharpening to points until they're pricking him. They begin to pierce through his flesh as she clutches him so tightly. And you think he must be in such pain; he must be shouting, but you don't hear a sound. You watch as wells of deep red blood flow from his wounds and seep into the sheets, staining them with a gash of crimson that will never wash away.

You don't actually see any of that. As it turns out, you're already asleep.

–

Butterflies live their lives basking in the sun. Moths don’t; they exist in the dark, lives illuminated only by the moon, that indirect refraction of true sun. So whenever they steal a glimpse of the light, they’re drawn to it. Recklessly, they chase it, fluttering around that brightness, unafraid or unaware of the consequences. And because they don’t see it all the time, they yearn for it in a way that butterflies never do.

Even if it destroys them.

–

Approximately twenty-six hours ago, you'd imagined yourself sitting on the hotel balcony, having a leisurely cup of morning coffee to revive you after a long night of partying at the club with your friends and boyfriend. Instead, you find yourself digging in your suitcase, searching for an athleisure outfit so you can accompany Chrissy to the spa.

As you'd awakened to light streaming through the gauzy curtains, eyes blinking open to the sight of dark curls gleaming in the shafts of brightness and Eddie's pale quartz back rising and falling with even breaths, the presence of Chrissy's dainty hand splayed across his spine had conjured a small shiver. But when you'd grasped for it, the reason for your unease slipped from your consciousness like a drop of ink or blood diffusing into water. You quickly attributed the feeling to your actions the previous night, to the vestiges of guilt and shame that still ticked at the edge of your senses despite the conspicuous lack of conflict and a good night's rest. You'd been preparing for the fallout as you sat up in bed, drawing restless fingers through your hair and rubbing the remnants of slumber from your eyes. But when Chrissy awoke, blue eyes bright and smile soft as she pulled herself cross-legged on the other side of Eddie and whisper-shouted to you her proposal for how to spend the morning before your return flight, you finally allowed yourself to accept that maybe things were okay after all.

As you search for an outfit, you're careful not to disturb Steve. He's still stretched out against the sheets, hair adorably disheveled, nose whistling slightly with each inhale. You watch him sleep for a moment, but when it conjures a whisper of feeling you don't want to confront right now, you redouble your efforts to find an outfit. Soon, you're adorned in a loose cropped t-shirt, high-waisted bike shorts, and flip-flops. After a quick visit to the bathroom to brush your teeth and fix your hair, the slight jangle of keys near the door tells you Chrissy is ready and waiting. You emerge to find her in a skin-tight black romper, topped with a loose button-up tied chicly at the waist to show off her athletic legs. Together, the pair of you set out for a morning filled with the promise of relaxation and revival.

The day spa Chrissy has chosen called Ciel reminds you of the bathroom in your hotel. It's all clean lines and light wood, crisp and pristine but scattered with lush greenery that echoes the tropical foliage outdoors. Trying to balance treating yourselves but also sticking to a budget, you and Chrissy had agreed to two spa activities, which would have you back to the hotel by ten o'clock to pack and eat a quick brunch with the guys before your one o'clock flight. 

It smells of rich aromatherapy oil in the massage room where you're lying face-down on the table, face wedged in the opening, with nothing but a thin towel to preserve your modesty. You'd think that after having sex with three people at once, you'd be a little more comfortable with your own nudity. Yet you find yourself having to resist the sudden spike of self-consciousness that pierces you when you hear the door creak open underneath the ambient music and flowing water sounds. Still, Chrissy's presence on the table beside yours is soothing, and as the massage progresses, you find the precise and clinical rubbing does exactly what it's supposed to. It's like the masseuse's fingers are wringing all the tension from your body. As the hot stones rest heavily against your back, they release the ooze of your guilt and shame until you emerge from the room feeling cleansed.

After your massage, you suck down cold water as instructed, Chrissy at your side as you wait for your second activity: manicures. She sighs contentedly, porcelain skin shining pink and healthy from the heat, eyes sparkling even brighter. "That was so nice," she says. "I totally needed that."

"Yeah, me too," you say, exchanging a warm smile with her. "So, how was it dancing on stage last night?"

"Oh, my God, y/n, it was so cool!" she gushes, clasping your forearm as she starts to tell you all about it. And as you listen to Chrissy talk— as she shakes your arm around in her enthusiasm, and you fawn over her on-stage escapades, any lingering trepidation you felt at the thought of Chrissy being angry with you finally melts away. We're okay, you think, feeling a surge of fondness for Chrissy as you squeeze her fingers, and she smiles that soft charming smile that reveals her slightly crooked teeth.

An attendant guides you to the wall of nail colors, and you and Chrissy make your selections. You opt for squared tips and a pretty dove gray color. After some deliberation, Chrissy decides to get acrylics— not too long, but pointed, painted a bright siren red. Her acrylics will take longer than yours, but you don't mind; you've budgeted enough time for the indulgence, and the whole point of this trip is to relax and take it easy. No need to rush.

You sit side-by-side with Chrissy in the salon chair, resting your fingers lightly on the table as you wait for your nail technician to join you. She is an older woman with kindly-wrinkled eyes and shockingly smooth hands for her age. You greet her, and she returns your 'hello' with a smile, getting straight down to business by wiping off your bare nails with polish remover to ensure they're ready to be painted. Chrissy's technician comes second, flouncing into her seat across from your friend. She's younger, probably about your age, with a massive black bun piled atop her head to reveal an undercut. 

"What's up?" she greets Chrissy, who smiles broadly. "We doing acrylics?"

"Yup," Chrissy answers, wiggling her fingers sassily. "You like?"

The technician slants a grin at her. "Hell yeah," she replies, earning one of Chrissy's giggles as she positions her hands atop the towel to begin working.

Your technician eyes her colleague with an air of motherly long-suffering but doesn't comment as she works. Despite the casualness of Chrissy's technician, which may, you suppose, bother some customers, you eagerly welcome the conversation that flows between you three. You learn that her name is Crystal, which you all have a bit of a laugh over as it sounds so close to Chrissy. Crystal's constant chatterboxing doesn't interfere with her ability to work; she seamlessly gossips with you while preparing Chrissy's nails with practiced ease. And your technician doesn't seem to mind being excluded from the conversation, appearing content to work in patient silence while manipulating your limp fingers as your eyes dart from Chrissy to Crystal and back again.

Eventually, as Crystal's most recent story subsides, Chrissy glances at you. And you can tell, as her blonde brows crinkle up and her teeth bite down on her lip to contain a smile, that she wants to say something.

"What?" you say, playfully bald, narrowing your eyes with faux suspicion. "What is it? Spit it out, Chris."

She purses her lips, glancing between you and Crystal as she speaks, sweet and powdery soft in her hesitance. "Well… I've been dying to tell you this, y/n. It's kind of why I wanted to do this without the guys. We're on vacation with our boyfriends," she explains to Crystal, who nods, looking intrigued.

You're also intrigued by the sparkle in Chrissy's eye and the sudden light flush on her cheeks. You can tell it's good news and that it must be something big. Your face goes slack, eyes wide with excitement, thinking that it might be about her yoga studio— the reason she's been taking all those night classes, working so hard. Is she done with her degree? Had she found a good deal on a location? You itch to reach for her, but you can't move your hands; you settle for expressing your eagerness through your face and voice. "What is it, babe?" you ask, warm and buoyant with rising glee as her smile breaks free, lighting her face so radiantly.

"I think Eddie's gonna propose to me!"

Crystal squeals, Chrissy giggles, and your face is still fixed in a bright, eager smile.

"Holy shit!" Crystal exclaims, leaning in, ignoring the pointed look your technician shoots her way.

"I know," Chrissy sighs, feet tip-tapping on the floor like she needs an outlet for her overwhelming giddiness. "I'm so excited. I mean, we were gonna wait until after I finished my classes and got my degree, but we've been dating for, like, five years now, so what's the point in delaying, you know?" She looks from Crystal to you as if seeking your approval. You tighten the sagging corners of your smile, cheeks already aching as you nod quickly. You don't trust yourself to speak. Thankfully, her eyes bounce back and forth between you and Crystal, continuing eagerly without seeking more of a response.

And as Chrissy tells you all the reasons she thinks Eddie is going to propose to her, a feeling like mortification slides hot down the back of your neck to the base of your spine. It's like mortification but heavier, thicker. More asphixiating. Like your friend had shoved a pillow over your face, and each rationale she gives for Eddie's imminent proposal presses it down harder and harder against your nose and lips until your chest heaves, fruitlessly sucking in fabric instead of air. 

"We've been living together for a few months now," she's telling you and Crystal, "and it's been amazing. Like, I heard the transition can be kind of hard at first, moving in with someone, but it was so seamless. I was shocked! And it's so nice to come home to him every day. Well, you know," she chuckles, slanting a friendly, knowing look toward you. "You live with Steve, so you get it."

"All right, what's the best part?" Crystal asks conversationally, filing the acrylic of Chrissy's ring finger to a precise point.

"Hmm…" Chrissy bobs her head back and forth, pursing her lips as she thinks. "Probably sleeping with him." It takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to react.

Crystal guffaws. "Girl—"

Chrissy cuts her off. "No, no! Not like that," she clarifies with a charming giggle. "Eddie's like my personal heater. I'm always so cold, and he keeps me warm every night. And he's so attentive. Even when he's worked a really long shift and comes home super tired, he always wants to cuddle. He's really affectionate. And he's so reliable. I know he'd do anything for me." 

You're still smiling, but you can't breathe.

"Aw," Crystal coos, brows tugging up in a simpering expression of admiration. "I'm happy for you, girl."

  "Thank you," Chrissy replies, letting her head fall back as her eyes take on this far-away, dreamy look. You watch her as she hums contentedly before saying musingly, "Yeah. We'll get married, then I'll open the studio. And I think in a year or two, that'll probably be the right time to start trying." She slants a glance at you and Crystal, smiling conspiratorially as she shrugs. "Or sooner. You never know." She giggles and Crystal huffs amusedly through her nose. "Not sure I wanna wait that long to have my first baby."

There is no pillow; instead, Chrissy has sucked all the air from the room. Your lungs begin to ache.

"Honey," your technician says, all kind and quiet as your eyes dart to hers for the first time in a long while. She smiles reassuringly. "You're a little shaky. Did you eat this morning?"

You look down. She has your pinky in her grip, brush poised with dove gray polish above your nail. She's right. Your hands are trembling.

"N-no." You push the words out, voice creaky with disuse, so quiet that you aren't sure if she's heard you. You flex your fingers, jaw clenching as you focus on trying to keep them still. When she doesn't resume her painting, you glance up at her again. "I'm okay," you add, and when she nods, you turn your eyes back to your fingers, thinking of nothing but holding still and breathing evenly. Inhale slowly. Hold for three seconds. Out slowly. Wait for five. Repeat. Your fingers hold steady, and she manages to finish painting one hand before Chrissy addresses you directly.

"What do you think, y/n? Do you think they could be blue?"

You swallow against the lump that rises in your throat. "Hm?" You make a little questioning sound as you glance at your friend, looking into her face framed by supple strawberry-blonde waves, her bright blue eyes, her pink bow lips, her porcelain skin so radiant and beautiful.

"I was saying that I hope our baby has blue eyes, but Crystal said that brown eyes are, like, a dominant trait. So since Eddie has brown, he probably wouldn't."

"I mean, I wouldn't say I'm an authority," Crystal hedges, looking to you for your response.

You want to say, Chrissy, the thought of you having Eddie's baby makes me feel like I'm suffocating.

Instead, you squeeze out one single word. "He?"

"Oh, yeah." Chrissy looks a little sheepish, smiling softly as her shoulders squish up near her ears. "I kind of always say 'he' because I really want a boy. But Eddie wants a girl. I mean, honestly, I guess it doesn't matter what we have." Her face fills up with adoring affection. "He would be such an amazing girl dad. She'd be his little princess."

You'd do anything, give anything, not to hear another word. 

The realization shifts something in you. It allows you to claw at the pillow Chrissy's inadvertently holding to your face, wrench it from your nose and mouth, and shred it until feathers rain around you in a cloud of soft down. By sheer force of will, you bury your emotions beneath the dark earth at the bottom of you until you can't feel them anymore.

"I think there's a chance the baby would have blue eyes," you say, straightening your spine, face perfectly pleasant. "It's not likely, but there's always a chance."

–

When Steve first proposed carpooling with Chrissy and Eddie to the airport, it seemed like a great idea. Now, it's agony.

When you'd returned to the hotel, Chrissy had asked the guys what they'd been up to while you were gone. "Oh, we just hung out," Steve replied easily, shooting her a lopsided grin as he wrapped his arm around you in greeting, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. Steve had acted entirely normal throughout your packing process, but you couldn't help but feel that Eddie seemed a little… off. 

You didn't look at him often. Despite how you'd pushed your emotions down at the spa, it seemed the effect had been only temporary since the sight of Eddie's black and white caused you to ache deeply somewhere behind your ribs. Still, after so many evenings in his company, even the most fleeting glimpses of his brown eyes and pale face revealed a dullness that was obvious to you. He seemed harrowed. But he also seemed to be avoiding your gaze just as much as you were avoiding his, so you pushed your questions aside and focused your attention on returning home to normalcy.

You're sitting in the passenger seat of Steve's maroon BMW. He's driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lightly against the gearshift. In the back seat, Chrissy has opted for the middle spot, pressing close to her boyfriend as he leans tiredly against the car door. You're all pretty worn out from the flight, sitting in the quiet wooshing of the highway as you think dully about the Monday morning of work you'll be facing tomorrow. You're already planning on taking a long hot shower, wrapping yourself in your coziest pajamas, and gorging on pizza and some indulgent Netflix show to unwind before bed. You can't wait until you and Steve drop Chrissy and Eddie off. Chrissy seems to share your sentiment.

"I can't wait 'til we get home." Chrissy is murmuring quietly, but in the hush of the car, you can hear her just fine. It's the first time someone has broken the silence the whole car ride, and you find yourself glancing automatically back to see Chrissy's hand high on Eddie's thigh as she crosses her legs toward him, cocking her head. "I'm gonna get you right in the shower, big boy."

You hear Eddie huff a brief chuckle, and you swallow to wet your suddenly dry throat. You swell with foreboding; dread sinks heavy in your stomach as a brief flash of that hot mortification echoes inside you again.

"What do you wanna do to me tonight?" Chrissy murmurs, voice pitched low and sultry, still quiet but horribly clear. Please, no. Don't make me listen to this, you beg silently, eyes flicking toward the side window as you curl up on yourself in preparation.

Chrissy continues talking. "Do you wanna try fucking my face again? That was fun last time."

There's an extended pause and then Eddie's answer. "If you want." You feel some vindictive relief at the impassiveness of his voice. Hot, prickly shame rushes in to follow, and you rest your chin on your palm, leaning your temple against the cool glass of the window. You don't want to listen, but after Eddie's response, you can't deny that a small part of you is hoping to hear that lack of enthusiasm from him continue. You may not want to listen, but your ears are honed on the back seat now, attentive to each little sound and shift in tone.

Chrissy's voice is suddenly lower, more seductively teasing. "You know I love it when you get me all sloppy."

You don't dare to look; you keep perfectly still, waiting for Eddie's response. And you hear a subtle shifting of fabric, like one of them is moving to touch the other or fidgeting with their hands. Maybe Eddie is twisting his rings in that nervous habit of his. 

Again, it heartens you, his lackluster response. And you know it's wrong to take pleasure in it, but you can't help yourself. Later, you can chastise yourself for your selfishness. Now, you're grasping it like a lifeline. You're reaching for anything that can relieve the oppressive suffocation you'd experienced in the nail salon. Because you know that ache can't be suppressed forever. You know it will return, and you'll latch on to anything that may alleviate at least some of it.

You hear Chrissy giggle suddenly. "Or…" She sounds even foxier now. "You could always…" She trails off pointedly, and you can hear the smile in her voice. You know what Eddie will do; it's clear what Chrissy wants.

"What?" he asks, obliging her.

"You know…" she murmurs, husky and low. There's a rustle and then the barest suggestion of words, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. You realize she must be whispering in Eddie's ear.

His sudden shocked huff nearly startles you; you hear the slight wet sound of him swallowing thickly. "Would you like that?" Chrissy asks, all smug and low with knowing pleasure.

Eddie chuckles disbelievingly. That smoke voice rasps low. "What kind of question is that? 'Would you like that?' Of course, I'd fuckin' like that—" 

The slight relief twists violently into pain behind your ribs; the ache resurges, throbbing as you begin to suffocate again.

 With trembling fingertips painted dove gray, you switch on the radio.

–

It's one o'clock in the morning, and your pain has finally subsided into hollowness. You'd worn your mask for the remainder of the day. You'd worn it while dropping Chrissy and Eddie off at their apartment. You'd worn it during the ride back to yours, where you wrote down all the groceries you needed for the week in your Notes app to be picked up after work tomorrow. You'd worn it while showering, while changing into your pajamas, while relaxing on the couch watching an indulgent Netflix show with your feet in Steve's lap. And now, Steve is asleep, so you no longer need to maintain your mask. It's somewhat of a relief, but it can't compensate for the whiplash of events that occurred on this vacation. On some level, you feel like everything has changed. But laying here, empty and hollow, you realize that, in reality, nothing has. 

You hope your hollowness persists. Maybe, with hollowness in place of the ache, you can put this weekend behind you and pick back up right where you left off before you'd gone on this vacation.

The phone buzzes.

You blink, staring at the bright screen of your phone on your bedside table for a long moment, long enough for it to go black again. You know who the message is from because only one person texts you this late in the evening. You consider leaving it for tomorrow morning and just going to sleep instead. You're certainly tired enough.

You drag the phone underneath the covers with you. 

You open the message, which includes a small block of text and, curiously, an mp3 file rather than a Spotify link. You dully pull out your earbuds automatically, fitting them in your ears before you read the message.

Eddie has written, 'Been working on this one for a while now. Finally finished recording it right before our trip and wanted to share it with you. Let me know what you think.'

Your heart stutters and thumps, and the feeling is not entirely pleasant. As you stare at the file waiting to be opened and played, you waver with indecision. You've never hesitated to listen to one of the songs Eddie has shared with you. But then, you'd never before broken the rules by kissing him. And he'd never before made you orgasm. And you've never before sat in a nail salon, listening to his girlfriend talk about becoming his wife and having his children.

In the end, what finally persuades you to make your decision is not any of those things. It's the memory of Eddie's bouncing knee, of his white knuckles as he glared at the sea, grappling with your kind words. Struggling to accept that you'd listened to his regret and shame and countered with all the parts of him you cherish.

As soon as you hear it, you pause on the chorus, stunned by Eddie's voice, how it's gritty and cracking with the force of his growl. ' Placed inside, safe and sound. Shades of colors are all I see. ' You listen to it once and then immediately play it again and again. You're fixated on it— the way Eddie sings about being 'safe and sound.' The way his voice sounds so raw. An odd image comes to you: a man's pale back pricked by sharp nails, flowing crimson onto sheets. It makes no sense, but it also makes you ill, so you push the image away and hit replay.

You listen to the song again and think about how Chrissy said she wants to have a boy, but Eddie wants a girl. It suddenly becomes so obvious: how they've discussed getting married and having kids, and you don't even know when Eddie's birthday is. You're thinking about how you've never been to their apartment. You're wondering what their apartment looks like. What their bed looks like. And then you're thinking about how Eddie keeps Chrissy warm in it every night. And once you think that, you can't stop the questions that tumble one after another.

Does he touch her like he touches you? 

Does he fuck her like he fucks you? 

Does he moan against her neck when he cums inside her? 

Does he hold her while she cries?

Does he steal one last touch before he leaves the bed to wash up? 

Does she get to see the gentleness in his eyes? Does that gentleness spread over his whole face? You know that it can. Your knowledge comes deep from the bottom of you, where your green sprouts forth. Does Eddie's gentleness spread for Chrissy that way? The way you've never gotten to see it?

The suffocating ache wells up. It leaks silently from your eyes. It's all too much. You feel too much. 

For the first time, you don't answer Eddie's message.

#tkym #blueywrites #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham

[pedropascalsx]

Frankie x reader fic based on Taylor Swifts “Right where you left me”. Frankie and reader and childhood best friends and eachothers first loves and he enlists and leaves her without saying goodbye 🥺💔

Oh you wanna do this huh? RWYLM (and some added last kiss references because why not!!)

right where you left me (younger frankie morales x f! reader)

warnings: angst, oral (f) receiving, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, mentions of parent dying, dirty talk, pain.

word count: 2.1K

summary: reader is left to deal with some unexpected news from the love of her life.

a/n: happy ending because i can’t do sadness, i am sorry.

His hand rests over one of yours as you scan over the menu for the 100th time. You know what you’re going to order, he knows what you’re going to order; but you still make a song and dance about how you’d ‘maybe want to try something else for a change.’

You don’t. Your ham & pineapple pizza arrives at the same time as his extra spicy - he rolls his eyes and screws his face up at your choice of toppings but you both know he’ll end up stealing a few slices when you’re not looking.

He tells you he loves you as you demolish off your forth slice, interrupting you mid-sentence with that gorgeous smile and an appearance from that dimple that makes you weak at the knees, you playfully scold him for those rude interruptions that you love so much.

Coupons, coins and screwed up $1 bills are hastily mounted on the little black tray with your receipt. You both tip more than you can afford but don’t want to piss off any waiters at the restaurant that you fell in love in.

He takes your hand in his as you leave the restaurant, rainfall drenching you both in seconds as you run towards his beat up truck, he insists on opening the door for you, not caring about the cold that’s threatening to seep into his bones.

*

You think back to the night you met him 2 years previous, your mother had made you drive to the restaurant to drop off your brothers wallet - he had called from one of those phones mounted on the wall between the bathrooms after realising he’d left it on his bedside table, you groaned and cursed all the way there; the radio humming quietly beneath your breathless rants.

He was perching over the pool table, the pool table that had no place in this cosy little restaurant, your brother standing next to him as he ranted and raved about Frankies technique. Your stomach dropped when he noticed you, dark brown eyes finding yours with ease and you swore you could feel him.

You didn’t notice your brother marching up to you, he pulled you out of the kind of trance that you’d refused to believe was real. The kind of love at first sight bullshit you’d spent your teenage years scoffing at.

He didn’t introduce you, you didn’t learn his name for a few more weeks. You’d convinced your friends that you all NEEDED to check out the dusty old restaurant that had a strict no live music or sports games rule.

“No, no, you need to leave,” you brother ranted the moment you all piled into the restaurant, “Can’t I have just one place where you aren’t fucking up my shit?”

You ignored him, too busy focusing on the sight of Frankie chatting to a girl who was messing with the collar of his shirt. You wanted to leave, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole; and then he saw you. You can still picture it now, the way his face lit up, his eyes burrowing into yours and took a few clumsy steps back and smiled at you in a way that could have swept you off your feet.

The rest of the evening consisted of stolen glances and a silent promise that the both of you would find a way to each other.

You didn’t know his name, he didn’t know yours, but that very phone that Will had made the very phone call that had bought Frankie into your life; had become the place where you got to know the taste of his mouth. The feeling of his lips pressed against yours as he licked across your bottom lip with determination and lust? or maybe love?

Even now you can’t be sure.

When you mention it now, he swears it was love. You’re not fully convinced; sometimes you just think it was a horny 21 year old who liked the way you looked in that particular sundress.

You remember how he told you his name in a single whisper before his lips found yours again. Never then could you have imagined that it be the one that forever lingered on your lips.

*

You’re pulled out of your daydream but the feeling of his hand resting on your thigh, squeezing gently and inching up at every opportunity.

He parks his truck behind the back of your house, and the second the ignition is switched off, you’re on him. Tasting the lingering spices from his pizza, the beer and just a hint of mint from his toothpaste. His kisses always taste so good.

He mumbles something about how much he loves you in these dresses, he says something about how pretty you look but you know it’s because he likes the access. His large hands cover your bare breasts, squeezing gently as you roll down on him. “Let me taste you, Cariño” he almost begs, “Lay down.”

You do as he instructs, he peels your panties off as slowly as he can and shoves them in his jeans pocket, “Always so wet for me, my love” he murmurs before diving in. He eats your pussy like a man that’s been starved, he laps up your arousal like he hasn’t had a drink in weeks and he doesn’t stop until you’re hissing from overstimulation.

“Need to feel you,” you whimper as he rests his head on your thigh, looking at your glistening core and making filthy comments about how he’d spend his whole life sucking on your clit, pushing his tongue inside your pussy and revelling in your way you almost suffocate him your thighs when you come, “Frankie, please.” You beg. He obliges.

He rips down his jeans and boxers, freeing his thick cock, running his finger across the tip and letting the pre-cum that had been steadily dripping coat his length, “You ready for me, mi amor?” he asks as his lines himself up to your entrance, he waits until you’re nodding your head and practically screaming the world yes before burying himself inside of you, the stretch of him always makes you wince; you have never been with anyone else and bur even you know that he is blessed in that department.

He waits until you instruct him to move, slowly grinding his hips before moving himself in and out, building up a pace that always made you fall apart, always took your breath away and then he brings his fingers to your mouth, silently instructing you to lick before bringing them down to your clit and rubbing perfect circles into it, “Fuck baby, you feel that? You feel the way your pussy is holding on to me?” he splutters into your ear, “Fuck. My baby is like a vice.”

You come hard, you come with a scream of his name and he responds by burying his face in the crook of your neck and sucking little bruises on your skin, continuing to thrust in and out as you ride out your high, his follows soon after, and you feel his hot cum paint your walls and he repeats over and over that he loves you. He’s always loved you. And he always will.

He found it hard to let you go today, his kisses became more and more possessive, his hands held you tighter than ever before and his words were dripping with more truth than ever before.

I love you. I have loved you from the first time I saw. I will love you for the rest of my life. No matter what happens, I will always love you. Te amo. Te adoro. Te Quiero. I love you. Te amo. I love you, I love you, I love you.

You weren't sure why there was a slight tone of sadness coating each word, you weren't sure why he was talking to you like you hadn’t promised to meet him that very next day in the very same restaurant that you’d spent countless hours in. So you gripped his face, bringing him in for another kiss, nuzzling your nose against his and telling him that you’d love him forever as well.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, baby,” you call from your front door and he blows you a kiss, “Goodnight, Francisco.”

He watches you go inside. He wills himself to turn the key and drive away, but he just can’t. He spends the night outside your house, unable to drive himself away and face the fact that tomorrow would bring you both misery.

*

He’s late. He’s never late. You start to panic, you feel it rise in your chest and a stinging in your eyes as tears threaten to spill down your face.

You’re pulled back to earth by the sound of the little bell above the door, immediately it makes your head spin around.

He’s there. His father is right behind him. He’s dressed in… camouflage? An army uniform. A patch that reads ‘MORALES’ nested above his heart, in the space that your head had called home for so many nights, his fingers brushing through your hair as you curled up there.

What is this? Why is he dressed like this? He didn’t want to do this. He’d told his dad a thousands times before that he wasn’t coming to join the army, and yet here he was.

Apparently fully indicted and about to leave to begin his training.

Your Frankie. The same Frankie that listened to your sob and Will and Benny talked about wanting to sign up, both of whom seemingly forgetting the pain that you all live with, after your father was killed in action. The same Frankie that promised he’d never do that to you.

“Hi baby” he says quietly as the damn that was holding your tears back breaks, “I’m sorry.” He lays down an envelope in front of you, “I don’t expect you to wait for me, and I don’t expect you to forgive me; but I meant it… I will love you forever.”

You turn away, unable to look at him, his father mutters something and them both needing to leave. Frankie tries to get you to look at him, you don’t, he reaches out and his fingertips wipe away the tears staining your checks, you push his hand away. “I love you, mi bebita” he says before walking out the door.

You stay there, the dim light still managing to highlight your heartbreak. Cross-legged on the uncomfortable chair you’re sitting on, mascara streaking down your face as your sobs become silent, tears still falling but your throat unable to provide a soundtrack to your devastation.

The owner of the restaurant wraps his arms around you, and places a drink in front of you; he says nothing. He leaves you there to sob. The waiters and waitresses say nothing, they all send over understanding and reassuring glances but it doesn’t help, nothing will help, this pain threatens to become the only thing you’ll ever know. You stay there.

You’re not sure how long you stay there for, you vaguely remember Will and Benny coming in and one of them carrying you out to your mothers car.

She sat in the back with you and held you in her arms as you cried harder and harder.

The ghost of the girl that had been loved by him so deeply remaining in that seat. She stayed there even when you’d gone, crying silently, the memory of the boy that stole her heart and his sweetest confessions replaying over and over again; only to be blown away by the memory of him sliding that letter into your hands and walking away.

*

“Happy birthday, flower,” Benny sings through your bedroom door, “Come downstairs.”

It’s been six months. The letter he wrote is still sealed and placed next to your alarm clock, your glance at it, maybe today will be the day.

You drag yourself downstairs and your mother pulls you into a hug, your aunts and uncles are all gathering and wishing you a happy birthday.

“Cake for breakfast,” you say with a smile “Still my favourite tradition.”

“Make a wish, sweetheart” your mother says as she slightly pinches your cheek and peppers a small kiss to your forehead, “We will all pray it comes true.”

You make a wish. The wish they all know the wish that you’re making, the one that makes your heart ache with sadness.

You step back and unknowingly into open arms, they tighten around your waist and his nose nuzzles against your check, “What did you wish for, mi bebita?” Frankie whispers into your ear.

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales smut #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #my fanfic #my fanfiction

[wachinyeya]

https://www.yesmagazine.org/environment/2022/07/07/ancient-farming-technique-climate-change

Terracing has been used for centuries to help prevent fire, moderate temperatures, and make farming possible even when water is scarce.

—

Surrounded by the waters of the Strait of Sicily in the far south of Italy, the island of Pantelleria is made up of 32 square miles of black volcanic rocks with no source of freshwater other than the 16 or so inches of rain that fall each year. Yet, traces of the first farming terrace on the island date back to the Bronze Age, 16 centuries B.C. On such terraces, Zibibbo grapevines grow in hollows to trap moisture near their roots. The olive orchards are low, too; and capers, the other major local crop, stick out from dry stone walls.

These walls stretch in lines of stacked stones without the use of cement or mortar. They hold up beds of soil and create terraces, strips of flat land along slopes. These structures store heat during the day, and at night, when the sea breeze encounters the warmth of their surface, moisture condenses and forms dew. The stones help channel these precious tiny water drops into the wall’s drainage system and distribute them to the thirsty soil.

On this Mediterranean island, as in other parts of Italy and the world, architects, researchers, agronomists, and other professionals have rediscovered the value of ancient farming practices like terracing for resilience to climate extremes and preservation of biodiversity and cultural heritage. As climate change makes water scarce across the Mediterranean, traditional farming practices from areas with little water, like Pantelleria, might provide solutions.

“We can learn from it, without being traditionalist, romantic, or nostalgic, but actually looking at our future,” says Giorgia De Pasquale, an architect, researcher, and assistant professor at Roma Tre University who grew up in Pantelleria. “We can find some innovation skills that respect at the same time the balance of our ecosystems and the environment.”

Geographers estimate that terraces once covered between 200,000 and 300,000 hectares of the Italian peninsula. But currently only what remains over about 170,000 hectares is still visible from maps and satellite images; Pantelleria is the most terraced municipality. De Pasquale compared aerial maps from 1955 and 2016 and found roughly a quarter of rural areas were abandoned, mostly terraces. Out of the nearly 5,900 terraced hectares on Pantelleria, less than half are currently in use.

“Since the 1950s onward, we have lost especially farming terraced areas,” says De Pasquale, “mostly in favor of woods.”

Terraces require heavy labor that cannot be easily mechanized and have largely fallen out of use, despite their popularity across nearly every continent. But the undergoing climate crisis has revitalized terracing as a valuable form of adaptation both in places where rainfall is increasing or intensifying, as well as places it is decreasing, according to a recent report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change on solutions for land degradation.

Cultivated terraces offer a multitude of environmental benefits in addition to water retention. In Pantelleria, for example, an instance of arson in 2016 further highlighted the importance of well-maintained terraces. The flames burned an area two and a half times the size of Central Park around Montagna Grande, Pantelleria’s highest relief, and Mount Gibele, just a few months before most of the island would become a national park. But in some central parts of the island, farmed terraces stopped the fire’s advance.

“In the Monastero valley, only the top of the hill had been affected by the fire,” says Graziella Pavia, a local agronomist who previously served as agriculture councilor for the municipal government. “Flames stopped at the foothill, because then they could find only cultivated land, and it’s very difficult for cultivated plots to burn.”

Terraces can also help with weather events, such as flooding, that become more likely under climate change.

“We are noticing extreme rain events and, at the same time, prolonged drought periods,” says Alessandro Sardella, a geologist at the Institute of Atmospheric Sciences and Climate of Italy’s National Research Council, where he works as a researcher in the unit focusing on the conservation of cultural heritage.

“Nicely manicured strips of land with well-maintained walls hold better chances to reduce the risk of erosion, the risk of landslides due to these extreme events, as well as favor water infiltration and act as a buffer for these long [drought] periods,” he says.

But when stonewalls are neglected, they do little to help and may, in fact, exacerbate collapses, erosion, and even fires when they are covered in dry vegetation. For the past four years, Sardella, together with the nonprofit Dotteolie and the CNR-ISAC, has organized initiatives to restore the terraces of the Aeolian Islands, an archipelago higher up along Italy’s boot, where about 90% of the existing terraces is estimated to be abandoned. He has run workshops with locals and landowners on how to build or repair stone walls using traditional techniques along with partners like the Italian segment of the International Terraced Landscapes Alliance.

ITLA was formed in China in 2010 to connect people working on terracing, from farmers to builders, architects, academics, and activists, to shed light on the challenges these rural landscapes face and ways to revive them. Since then, it has grown to 315 members from 35 countries and has gathered three times, including once in 2019 in Madeira and the Canary Islands, which share certain farming techniques with Pantelleria.

Pavia says these congresses are an important way to share ideas about how to keep farming terraces alive. “It encourages comparisons and the exchange of common solutions, drawing on others’ experiences,” she says.

She believes Mediterranean islands have a lot to teach in terms of resiliency, being set apart from more complex supply systems. “Of course, we had some very bad years too,” she says. “All the island suffered a lot.” But she holds out hope the terraces will help them survive future dry spells. Such farming techniques, developed in places with few resources, offer important hints for the future, she says. “As I see it, terraces might let us preserve the landscape as well as feed us at a micro and localized level.”

#nature #climate change #climate hope #terrace garden #farming #agriculture #terracing #good news #reference #science #environmentalism #environment #sustainability #water #ancient solutions

[sufferawitchrp]

⯎ SUBPLOT No. IV — SURRENDER THE NIGHT ⯎

TW: description of a corpse, illness mention

Pressed against the edge of a jet black horizon, a tall structure loomed in the distance. Its windows were all aglow, the blazing light from a dozen candles flickering behind a sumptuous wall of heavy curtains. Like the many eyes of an enormous spider, the rows of polished glass overlooked a tiny slit in the skyline where the earth touched the heavens, the gap exposed by a sudden burst of lighting. The air was heavy with the aroma of pending rainfall following a slow procession of agitated clouds, and then, after a moment of hesitation, the sky opened up.

Ignatius Barlow watched as ribbons of water lashed against the window, his pale eyes following the droplets on their rapid descent to the ground below. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a crooked thumb stroking the edge of a metal band looped around his wrist. It had been a long day and after the clock struck seven, he was certain it would be an even longer night. Turning away from the window and the network of watery veins splashing across it, Ignatius retreated to a leather chair behind a large wooden desk. He grasped the padded armrests and then dropped into the equally padded seat, his head rolling back onto his neck as he exhaled a small breath. 

The town of Blightford had always been a curiousity to the retired professor, its northern charm challenged only by the speculation of something peculiar transpiring within its borders. Ignatius had heard about the phenomena that took place — the varied accounts of disembodied voices, the unexplainable disappearances, the suffocating sensation of despair if someone wandered too far west and found themselves traipsing over the unnamed dead buried in St Columba’s Cemetery. As a young man — and an even younger boy — he walked a rather firm line of doubt and disbelief, and assumed the unusual experiences shared by his peers and colleagues were nothing more than stories to exchange over a lukewarm pint of beer, but the longer he taught within the hallowed walls of Yale University, Blightford lingered on the periphery like a spectre — like a bloody stain.

With parts of his memory compromised by age, Ignatius couldn’t recall the number of experiences he’d had with much clarity, but as with most things — his first and only dog, his first car, his first great love — he was of the mindset that he would never forget that first encounter. Even now, with his hands and feet warmed by a nearby fire, the recollection sent a stubborn chill down the length of his spine.

It was early spring and he had just dismissed his last class for the afternoon. The sky was an endless shade of blue and the earth had started to thaw, the rime and slush of a hard winter making way for little blades of grass. Ignatius slid his textbooks into his bookbag, turned off the lamp mounted on the edge of his desk, and then pulled the lecture room door shut behind him. From the moment he rolled out of bed, the young professor was overwhelmed by a vicious nausea; his stomach churned all morning and by noon, he had caught the wicked aroma of skatole and methanethiol a total of four times. Once outside, he sucked down a deep breath and held it, hoping the fresh oxygen would whittle away at the foul scent that lingered inside his nose for the better part of eight hours.

He navigated the condensed, brick walkways with ease and offered up a smile to all those who greeted him as he began his commute home. He hummed a soft tune as he rounded a corner and made his way past the northernmost residential hall. His stomach lurched unexpectedly and he slowed his steps, bracing for the violent discomfort of oncoming sickness, but when he coughed up nothing more than air and saliva, he swept his hands down the front of his suit and continued on. Adjusting the strap on his shoulder as he passed one dormitory after another, Ignatius concentrated on his breathing until the air went rancid.

Clapping his hand over his mouth and nose, Ignatius wandered off the stone path and into an alcove of tall bushes; tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he doubled over and prepared to empty his stomach of the peppermint tea he choked down hours before. The smell worked its way deep into his lungs and he retched, gagging on his tongue until his desperate heaving mutated into a scream.

A body materialized where his bag had slipped off his shoulder, the eyes limned over with cataracts and broken blood vessels. The corpse gazed upward, the remnants of its mouth stretched open in an empty shriek. Ignatius stared at the nightmare lying prone beneath him and gave a violent start when the body stirred, its eyes shifting from the sky above to his ashen face. He jumped backward and collapsed onto his elbows, the sudden burst of pain obliterating his panic for a split second before he scrambled to his feet. Ignatius fled through the bushes, arms and legs pumping with a ferocity he’d not felt since his sophomore year of high school. He ran until he tasted iron and his shirt was pressed slick to his body with perspiration.

He called in sick the following day and then sick again the next.

On the following Monday, Ignatius opted to take the lengthier route to his lecture room. Inhaling deeply, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, pausing when he noticed a small mass on the corner of his desk. He turned on the lights and gasped — the bag he abandoned in his haste had been returned. Ignatius edged forward and with a shaking, out-stretched hand, he peeled back the flap and reached inside to retrieve his books. He withdrew Tresmegistus’ ‘Corpus Hermeticism’ from the top of the stack and flinched when a small piece of paper slipped from between the pages. 

Ignatius bent to pick it up and felt his blood run cold. A pair of blue eyes set into a round and smiling face peered up at him, and on the bottom of the wallet-sized photograph, a small bit of jagged print: 

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.

Ignatius dropped the photograph and brought a trembling hand to his mouth. Amanda Alcorn had gone missing at the start of last term, and when winter semester began, her body had been recovered in a horrific state of advanced decay. 

Perhaps, Ignatius thought to himself. No way in hell. You were sick all day and your students probably decided to take the piss on you and play a prank. Indignant, Ignatius slammed the photo down, rounded the corner of his desk, and worked tirelessly to put Amanda out of his mind. 

He had never been the same since then; what started as a staunch aversion soon transformed into a strange obsession, and it was that morbid curiousity that allowed him to find company and common interest with those who spent the finite  hours of their lives in search of answers to the grim and unknown.

SPECIES SPOTLIGHT — MUNDANE SUMMARY — Consumed by a voracious appetite for the macabre, a motley group of individuals have come together in an effort to gather evidence of the strange and unusual phenomena taking place in their own backyard. Forever changed by the inexplicable horrors that have haunted their every waking moment, members of The Lazarus Compound work tirelessly to procure artifacts that support their belief that there is, indeed, a world that exists alongside the tangible realm. - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher]

#jcink #jcink rp #jcink premium #supernatural roleplay #supernatural rp #site buzz #suffer buzz #update #subplot #new england horror #new roleplay #new rp

[rikalovesrice]

The Eternal Day : Tales of Arcadia - Chapter 9

Previous Chapter

Author’s Notes : THIS CHAPTER IS FLIPPIN’ LONG

Whew chile. We’re in the home stretch y’all. I want to apologize so hard in advance for......everything :’) Also I’m really sorry if the formatting is off... (Tumblr and Ao3 confuse me x_x). I didn’t want to go through 50 pages worth of text (on BOTH websites) to manually fix it so please bear with me rip (If anyone knows a solution, let a girl know lol)

Without further ado, please enjoy the chapter!

~

The Call To Become

“Walt?”

Barbara stood in the doorway. Walter had gone to a servant room with a single bed. He was sitting on the side closest to the window, faced away from her with his head in his hands. Without the mounted torches in the hallway, Barbara wouldn’t have been able to see him. Nightfall had turned the already overcast world pitch black, brightened only by flashes of lightning and the luminous form of the Forest Titan outside.

 For the last two hours, Walter hadn’t moved. At the sound of Barbara’s light footsteps and the bed dipping as she sat beside him, he didn’t stir. But the moment her arms folded around him, his body was seized with trembling. He doubled in on himself, hands becoming fists in his gray hair. The paralysis of shock melted away and his shoulders began to rise and fall with ragged breaths. Barbara pressed her lips to his temple and held on. There were no words. Only more tears.

“I’m sorry, Walter. I’m so, so sorry.”

 Walter managed his first words since they’d returned, voice clogged with grief. “I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t save her.”

 “It wasn’t your fault.”

 “She’s gone. And we failed.”

 “You did everything you could.”

 Walter’s hand found Barbara’s on his shoulder. He shook his head, his tears finally spilling forth. “My friend…She was my oldest friend.”

 The fragments of Barbara’s shattered heart dug deeper. “I know.”

 “It should’ve been me.”

 “It shouldn’t have been either of you.”

 Walter fell apart. “Nomura…!” 

 Melancholy hung in the air. Unbreathable as smog. Heavy as the rainfall.

 Claire had lost her ability to stand and couldn’t stop her tears. Jim hugged her close, his eyes raw from crying and staring at nothing. Toby was laying down with an arm over his face. Next to him was Aaarrrgghh, sitting against the wall and sniffling. Blinky tearfully approached each of them and offered embraces of comfort.

 “I just can’t believe she’s gone,” Claire said. 

 Toby sat up and furiously wiped his face. “Skrael’s gonna pay for this!” Aaarrrgghh scooted closer and Toby wept into his fur.

 Nomura’s scimitars had been set down on a bedside table. Jim’s eyes found and he went to them, skimming his fingers over their sunset blades. He noticed the webs and slashes of enchanted frost staining the edges.

 “She went down fighting,” Jim croaked. 

 “Undoubtedly,” Blinky said.

 Douxie, Zoe, Archie, and Nari joined them. Douxie brought Claire into a hug and Zoe did the same with Jim. Archie settled between Toby and Aaarrrgghh, bunting them both and purring in solace.

 Douxie pulled back and rubbed Claire’s shoulders. He wiped her tears with his thumb. “I’m so sorry. Truly I am.”

 “She was a very strong and courageous soul.” Nari took Jim’s hand. She looked up at him, an ache in her spirit. “She will never be forgotten.”

 “No, she won’t.” Jim held her hand back. “Glad you’re with us again, Nari. Having you back is the silver lining in all this.”

 Nari couldn’t fathom why. Her gaze went downcast. “I am so sorry. I have been an instrument in all of this pain. In your great loss…”

 “That’s not true.”

 “It is.” When Nari looked up again, it was right into Jim’s eyes. “Jim, you could not control yourself. But this whole time, before all of this, I could.” Everyone was listening now. “When the Great Eternity…When my father left this world, I felt so alone. So afraid. Bellroc and Skrael became so cruel, but I wanted us to stay together. No matter the cost.” Nari shut her eyes. “How high a cost it was. And I do not believe I have paid for it.”

 Douxie knelt before her, taking her hands. “Maybe you won’t have to.”

 “What makes you say that?” Nari asked.

 “I saw your memories. I saw the Great Eternity. Surely if he was so merciful to everyone, he’ll be just so with you, Nari. You’re his daughter after all. And you’re nothing like Bellroc or Skrael. I believe your father has always known that. I think…” Douxie breathed. “I think he’d be so proud of you.”

 Nari inhaled. Her heart caved and her eyes flooded with tears. “Proud…? How can that…No, that cannot be…”

 Nari nuzzled Douxie’s jacket when he brought her in. Douxie recalled those glimpses into Nari’s past, the snippets of the Great Eternity. Pictures of his wrath, the magnitude of his power, though momentary sent trembles of fear through Douxie’s body. Yet when he had seen the Great Eternity spare the world and felt his fatherly presence through Nari’s mind, Douxie couldn’t deny the compassion that radiated off of him, that incandesced within those indescribable eyes of his.

 But at the end of it, Douxie didn’t know for sure what would happen. He could only hope, as he always did. 

 “You’re here with us now,” Douxie said, hugging Nari closer. “That’s all that matters.”

 Nari clutched him back. Her tears slipped into the fabric of his hood. “I am so afraid. But I promise I will protect this world, all of you, until the end of days.”

 “And we’ll return the favor,” Archie said, landing on Douxie’s shoulder to touch her forehead with his nose.

 Across the room, Varvatos had been at least stabilized. A prism of Nari’s magic hovered over his chest, glowing strands of green ingrained into his wound, coupled with the shard of heartstone right beside him. Krel had brought whatever helpful contraptions he could think of from the study, creating a makeshift sort of cylindrical radiator device.

 “It should emit restorative energy waves like the ones in stasis chambers,” Krel had said. But despite that, Nari’s magic, and a heartstone piece, Varvatos still hadn’t so much as twitched. Aja sat fetal on the floor with her back against his bed. Krel eventually moved next to her and held her two right hands. Luug licked at her toes, whimpering when she didn’t respond.

 Others went over to check on Steve and Eli. The Creepslayerz were talking quietly, Eli sitting up in his bed and Steve’s hand on his back. Nari had done wonders on Eli’s burn, clearing blisters and reversing the damage done to skin and tissue, so that all his arm needed now were bandages, ointment, and maybe one more treatment spell. Steve’s broken arm had been pieced back together but he was told to keep movement to a minimum for at least an hour, lest he disrupt the magic’s healing work. 

 “You guys good?” Jim asked. 

 “I’m alright. It just feels like a really, really bad sunburn now,” Eli said. “And I’ve had a lot of those.”

 Douxie glanced at Aja, then looked at Steve. “Is she…?”

 Steve just shook his head, face gloomed and worried.

 Krel turned to fully face his sister. He kneaded her hands. Images of two Akiridion ships full of human civilians flashed painfully in his mind for the hundredth time. The ships had been damaged so severely by the Fire Titan that the kinetic shields had malfunctioned. Two full impact crashes from hundreds of feet. There had been so much screaming. Terrified, helpless screaming. A dreadful chorus still echoing in Krel’s head.

 “Aja…,” Krel said weakly. “Aja?”

 She didn’t move. She kept her face buried in one of her left arms while the other hugged her knees. She could see all their faces in the darkness. Faces that had gone still under the wreckage. Faces of survivors, what few of them they’d salvaged. The shellshock eyes, the flat voices, the broken bleeding bodies branded into Aja’s mind. Both Akiridion pilots had been lost, along with several others who’d traveled from Akiridion-5 to assist. And now Varvatos…

 Krel pulled Aja into his arms with a sob. Finally Aja reached up to clutch his arms and couldn’t hold it back anymore. She wheezed into Krel’s shoulder, hot tears starting to pour. Steve sat down in front of them. Eli, Jim, and Douxie stood close behind. Claire and the others quietly gathered around but remained at a distance.

 “What happened?” Jim asked softly.

 When Steve told them, Zoe covered her mouth with her hands and turned away. Claire shook her head at the ceiling, eyes flooding with more tears. Toby looked like he wanted to scream. Jim had to take a second to breathe, clenching and unclenching his hands. Douxie dropped to his knees. He looked at Nari, who stood silent with her face sunken with grief. Of course she’d known. 

 “What happened to the survivors?” Claire asked.

 Eli spoke this time. “We had to send for another ship.” He sniveled, swiping his arm under his nose. “We only found like sixty people. One man knew some English and he…” Eli shuddered. “He was asking where his ‘little boy’ was and we h-hadn’t found any k-kids…” 

 Eli cried into his hands. Everyone was too overwhelmed to say anything, the gravity of what Bellroc had done crushing, suffocating. Sorrow wrung their hearts and more tears came. Hundreds of casualties, human and troll, a number of Akiridions. Nomura dead. Varvatos unmoving and in critical condition. One Heartstone left. 

 Candles had been lit all around the room, drops of flame flickering mild in the inclement dusk. Yet the world seemed darker than ever before and none of them knew how much more they could take. 

 Jim, Claire, and Toby embraced, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh soon joining them. Aja and Krel hugged each other tight while Steve linked an arm around Eli’s shoulders, Eli reciprocating with a firm hand on Steve’s back. Ricky and Lucy held one another, the pair of them solemn with Luug whining at their feet. Douxie clutched Zoe’s hand, Nari leaning on his side and Archie pressing close on his other. 

 Outside the storm raged and Arcadia’s fiery Heartstone glinted like a warning. The Forest Titan turned its head to the town in response. 

 They all knew there was only more to come. 

 ◇

 Krel took his place at the wall. “Ready?”

 Zoe went up in front of the stained glass windows. “Yeah. Go for it.”

 Krel locked on through the scope of the net gun he’d made. He sucked in a breath and fired, an electric blue capsule the size of a baseball blasting out of the barrel and across the room with the speed of a bullet. A second before impact the capsule spun open like a flowerbud, thin petals of electricity fanning out and weaving together. Zoe stumbled back into the windows as the arcane net flung tight around her.

 “Are you alright?” Krel asked, jogging over.

 “I-I’m good!” Zoe gasped. She watched sparks of energy flit off the net’s webbing. A twinge of panic pricked her. She breathed deep. Her magic wasn’t gone. It was compressed, no longer at her fingertips or buzzing beneath her skin, but she could still feel it in her aura. Her efforts to summon it were successfully nullified by the arcane net. It was a scary feeling but she had to get excited. “Krel…Krel, I think we did it—”

 Yet as soon as she said it, the net turned dark blue and loosened, falling off in a heap around her ankles. Zoe and Krel locked eyes, shock soon turning to dejection. This had been the sixth attempt, with hours of adjustments in between.

 Krel sank to the floor, burying his face in two of his hands. Zoe settled cross-legged beside him and placed a hand on his back.

 “Hey…,” she said.

 “I don’t understand why it’s not working,” Krel said, on the verge of tears. “Kleb! We’ve tried everything! If this doesn’t work…more lives will be lost…No, it will be the end…”

 Zoe bit her lip, slowly breathing through her nose. He wasn’t totally wrong or right. There was a chance they could still pull a victory out of all this. The Trollhunters had done it before. The aliens and the Creepslayerz had done it before. Douxie had done it before, against the Order no less. But that had cost him his life, and the fact that he hadn’t stayed dead was a literal miracle. And what they were dealing with now was the Arcane Order on the cusp of their full power, unstoppable ancient terrors.

 Zoe’s eyes wandered to the failed net. Removing the Order’s magic factor was their best bet for a guaranteed win and, maybe, a smaller death count. But that would still be too many. She tried to imagine what Aja and Krel had seen only hours earlier. She thought about Nomura and Varvatos, how she’d just started to get to know them. Zoe was no stranger to death. But for some reason, this was already taking its toll.

 “We have to keep trying,” Zoe said. She got up and made her way to a holographic panel that displayed the arcane net’s charts, studying them closely. “The net definitely worked that time, so we’ve got that down.”

 “But it won’t stay on,” Krel sighed. “For some reason the net’s power just won’t last. Electron stabilizers, trifurcate chargers, radiation adapters, static converters, current dividers, your own technological magic, nothing’s working!” Pain swam in his eyes. “What else can I do…? I have to make this work or…”

 “Krel, this isn’t all on you,” Zoe said softly. “I’m here to help, remember?”

 “I know…I know, I just…What else can I do?” He squeezed his eyes shut and choked. Zoe went back to his side and knelt.

 “You need a break. Why don’t you go back downstairs for a bit?”

 “No, I can’t! I need to—”

 “You need to ease up on yourself.” Zoe pulled at Krel’s arm until he got up then started nudging him toward the door, ignoring his protests. “Just take ten minutes. All the minutes. I’ll keep working up here so don’t worry.” She finally got him outside the study. Zoe stood in the doorway and met Krel’s gaze. The fear and sorrow in his eyes provoked a tenderness that she hadn’t felt in ages. Not since her little siblings moved on. “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll get through this.” 

 Zoe really, really hoped so.

 Krel was mum while returning Zoe’s stare. He let out a shaking breath after a moment and nodded, holding one of his arms as if wounded. Zoe didn’t miss the glimmer of gratitude in Krel’s eyes before he descended the escalator. She pushed the door closed and pressed her back to the wood, letting her head tip back. When she righted herself again her eyes caught the lime green gemstone set into Excalibur, the sword still lodged within a chunk of earth, waiting to be unsheathed. It made her think of Jim, which led to her pondering his armor recreated by Krel. A perfect, functional blend of Akiridion tech and magic. 

 “...to achieve the same power…”

 Zoe collected the net off the floor, using her magic to spin it back into its electric blue capsule. She placed it back next to its twin in a transparent case all hooked and wired up to more Akiridion machines. She faced the monitor that showed the nets’ power levels, insanely high from all the tweaks but still not enough, and started thinking maybe it had little to nothing to do with the batteries. In fact, Zoe had found that was rarely the case when it came to technomancy. It was all about the parts. If one had all the parts, if all the pieces were in place, the required magic would do its work and the cogs would turn without a problem. If they had plenty of magic, which Zoe did, then there was simply an element missing.

 Zoe leaned her elbows on the panel, head in her hands.

 “The same power…,” she whispered. “The same…” Her eyes flew open. She snapped her gaze back to Excalibur, chastising herself because did she not realize sooner?

 That’s what they needed.

 ◇

 “James Lake.”

 Jim gasped awake and sat straight up in darkness. He was sitting at a desk. There were desks around him and a whiteboard ahead. Silver light poured into the classroom. His classroom.

 “What…What’s happening? H-How did I…” Jim looked down at his hands and immediately wanted to vomit. Blue skin. Only four fingers on one hand. Jim scraped his hands over his scalp, eyes burning with tears at the hardness of horns. “No…No, no, no, NO!!!” Jim knocked his desk and chair over as he stood, eschewing more desks as he stumbled for the door. His insides were being stabbed by iron hot needles. His brain was bloated with internal screaming and bad thoughts but it just wouldn’t explode. He dropped to his knees in the haunting school hallway and heaved violently. He dragged his nails over his skin. Banged his forehead against the ground to wake himself up. “No…No, I don’t want to be a monster…Please, please, please I don’t—”

 “James Lake.”

 The voice somehow cut right through the whirlwind in Jim’s mind. He brought his face up to see an iridescent glow at the very end of the hall. Wisps of light beckoned in the dark.

 “Jim!” It was Claire’s voice.

 “Claire?” Jim crawled forward, hand reaching out.

 “Jimbo!”

 “Master Jim.”

 “This way, Young Atlas.”

 “Come on, sweetie.”

 “Tobes? Blink?” He staggered to his feet and started after the light. “M-Mom! Walter, wait! Please…!”

 The light made a turn, taking the voices of Jim’s loved ones with it. Jim broke into a run, his tears flowing sideways. Shards of glass manifested all along the walls, and Jim could see the monster in his peripherals. Sprinting next to him, flashing its fangs in a sickening grin. Jim blinked. The hall was a bloodbath. He blinked again. The floors were clean. 

 Jim finally rounded the corner to see the cluster of light exiting the school through double doors. The voices kept calling.

 “I love you, Jim.”

 “We’re not leaving you.”

 “You’re not alone, Jimbo.”

 “No cheeks about it, Lake!”

 “You’re not a monster.”

 “I never blamed you for Merlin’s death. Not once.”

 “You do not have to hide anymore.”

 Jim’s foot made it outside and suddenly he was in the canal, in front of a pile of rocks. The light disappeared through the cracks and Jim fell to his knees, digging desperately through the rubble. Then the earth beneath him gave way and he was falling through pitch blackness. Voices continued to echo around him, but mixed in now were horrified yells and the deep raspy breathing of a beast above it all. Jim smushed his hands over his ears. In the darkness he just made out a pair of wooden bloodshot eyes ringed with fire, then a giant gray hand emerged. Jim screamed his throat sore and curled in on himself.

 Jim struck the ground hard, bones rattling. Suddenly there was blinding light and he covered his face with his arms. Spots of blistering pain seared his body. He couldn’t escape. He was burning alive. Then he couldn’t move at all but it still hurt. It was still burning. Jim wanted it all to stop. He just wanted this to end. He never wanted this. 

 I can’t do this anymore. Claire. Mom. Blinky. Someone, anyone…I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m…

 “James Lake.”

 The white sunlight was wiped away to reveal a moonless night sky. Jim’s whole body relaxed into the grass, no longer petrified. He stared up at the billions of stars. Listened to the trilling of crickets. Traced with his eyes the silhouettes of leaves pinned to branches. Then, like a peaceful wraith, the cluster of iridescent light passed over him. 

 “Wait…!” Jim sat up and turned to not lose sight of it. But he wasn’t looking at a ball of light.

 There was a man sitting on a rock. He was dressed in a simple wine colored tunic and brown pants torn at the calves, revealing black claws on each of his toes. His nose wasn’t quite human, still bridged but more flat and heart-shaped like that of a sheep. Horns curled out of a wild, tousled golden mane. A magnificent pair of silver feathered wings tucked against his back. Most perplexing of all were the man’s eyes, two big pools of every color one could imagine, and many more that Jim couldn’t name. The man seemed to be made of light itself, his whole being glowing softly under the night, turning his hair to fire, his silver wings into folded blades, and his eyes into galaxies.

 “Who…,” was all Jim could say. Was he still dreaming?

 “Hello, James,” the man said with a smile. “Jim, rather.”

 Something about the man’s voice made Jim feel safe. It was deep but soft, strong yet mild. Jim twisted onto his knees then slowly stood, unable to look away.

 “Who are you?” he asked.

 The man raised a clawed finger. “Think for a moment. You have indeed seen me before. Albeit briefly.”

 So Jim thought, trying to match the shape of this man to his memories. His eyes roamed over the horns and wings and claws again. A single bright green firefly drifted into his vision, and then it clicked.

 “T-The Great Eternity!” Jim exclaimed. He jumped back and fell on his rear. The Great Eternity stood and started approaching. Jim didn’t know why but he was suddenly terrified. “O-Okay…Okay, whoa, this is…um…”

 “Peace,” the Great Eternity said. “And yes, this is still a dream.”

 “What? H-How did you—”

 “I know everything. But there’s nothing to fear. Rise.”

 Jim didn’t move. In this moment, this strange fabricated moment in his head, Jim knew without a doubt that the Great Eternity scared him more than every terror he’d ever faced. More than Gunmar. More than Bellroc. More than the Titans. It pulsed in his heart, in the depths of his soul. Power flowed from the Great Eternity like the light encompassing him, raw unimaginable power that could create entire worlds and snuff them out in a blink. The Great Eternity’s intimidating splendor had Jim flinching down. And then he saw his grotesque hands and remembered. He was a monster again. He was a filthy beast. He could only hurt, kill, destroy. Panic banged inside his skull, then the Great Eternity spoke.

 “Jim. It’s alright. Lift your head and rise.”

 His voice sliced right through the chaos, and Jim looked up. He timidly searched the Great Eternity’s face, the tension in his body easing when there was no trace of scorn or disgust to be found. Jim slowly stood and hugged himself. The Great Eternity towered over him and he didn’t know what to say.

 “Um…well…Great Eternity, sir—”

 “A bit impersonal, isn’t it?” the Great Eternity said. “You may call me by my name. Elyolam.”

 “Ell-yoo-lamb?” 

 “Close enough.” Elyolam smiled.

 Jim felt the corners of his mouth twitch. He cleared his throat. “So…what’s this about? Why are you here?”

 “Why, I’m here for you, of course.”

 Jim shifted. “What do you mean?”

 Elyolam gazed at him. “Come with me.” He turned and started walking, his light illuminating a path through the darkness. Jim hesitated, but then quickly followed, a host of fireflies floating into the space left behind. They strolled into a forest, dark and ordinary. That is until Elyolam stepped through the entrance. Luminous flower buds miraculously ballooned and flourished along the path wherever he passed, residual light speckling leaves and fluttering away as moths. It reminded Jim of the Forest Titan’s flower beds. Soft white light tinted blue.

 Hope these won’t try to kill me… Jim thought. Although I’m dreaming so I guess it’s fine?

 Elyolam snickered.

 The trees eventually fanned out and formed a circle around a clearing. A small pond glimmered in the center of blooming candescent dandelions and hibiscuses. Elyolam reached the water’s edge and turned to Jim, waiting. Jim came closer but froze inches away from the pond, anxiety pushing up his throat at the thought of glancing into it.

 “There’s nothing to fear, Jim.”

 “No…No, there is.”

 “And what would that be?”

 Jim shook his head. “I don’t want to look at myself.”

 “What harm will that do?”

 “You ask a lot of questions for someone who knows everything.” It came out ruder than Jim meant it. “I-I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

 Elyolam glanced at the pond, then back at Jim. “A mirror never lies. It only displays the truth. So come and see the truth for yourself.” 

 “This is just a dream. This is all in my head,” Jim said, meeting Elyolam’s enigmatic eyes. “How do I know any of this is true? I mean you’re,” Jim gestured at him, “probably not the real Great Eternity and I don’t know why my brain’s brought you here.”

 “Mm. You feel so, yet you’re terrified of me.”

 “I know you can do some scary things.”

 “I’m not doing anything now, am I? Why are you so afraid?”

 Jim swallowed. “I don’t know. Dreams do that. They always make sense in the moment, right? I’m going to wake up and see how crazy this all was.”

 “Crazy, is it?” Elyolam chuckled. “James Lake Jr.. First and only human Trollhunter, chosen by the Amulet of Daylight itself. Defender of troll and humankind, of Magic and Man. Slayer of Bular the Butcher and his father Gunmar the Black. You’ve traversed through shadows and fought with wizards. When the Eternal Night fell, you were the sun. Goodness, aliens are real and you’re a time traveler!” He shook his head, expression fond. “And the world had known nothing. Pretty crazy, don’t you think?” 

 Jim opened his mouth but didn’t find words.

 “Is it so outlandish, then,” Elyolam said, “that I, the Great Eternity, can appear in your dreams with the power you know I possess?” 

 Not at all. But Jim really didn’t want to look into that pond.

 “You really saw everything, huh?” Jim said quietly.

 “There is nothing I haven’t seen,” Elyolam said. “That includes what goes unseen.” He stepped in front of Jim.

 Warmth folded over Jim’s shoulders, and with it came the feeling of his insides melting. Jim looked up, eyes watering and body trembling at the kindness on Elyolam’s face. It washed over him, filled his lungs, flowed through his veins, trickled over his skin.

 “You’ve suffered greatly, my boy,” Elyolam said, giving Jim’s shoulders a squeeze. “But to suffer for what is good, what is right, for the ones you hold dear, I assure you there’s nothing greater.”

 Jim turned his head down, blinking rapidly. He heaved a sigh. “Well it hasn’t felt all that great, if I’m being honest.”

 “I know. How odd it would be if it did. But those who endure hardship for what is good have truly lost nothing. In fact, there is only gain, and what you have gained will never be taken from you.”

 “I’ve lost nothing?” Jim shrugged Elyolam’s hands off and backed up, his own hands balling into fists. “Are you kidding me right now? What about my Amulet? What about being the Trollhunter?” He was getting louder, voice quavering. “What about my high school graduation? My ability to feel sunlight or eat regular food or sleep?” Jim took several ragged breaths. “What about Draal? What about Nomura? What about…” He shut his eyes. The phantom of monstrous rage emerged from the blackness. Douxie and Archie crushed beneath his weight. Merlin sent to his death through a window. Claire gasping for breath. Jim’s eyes tore open, loosing his tears. “You think you know everything? Just look at me!” He took two strides and thrust his face over the pond. “Just look—”

 It was Jim’s human face staring back at him in the crystal water. Jim’s human self breathing harshly with tears streaming. He touched his cheek, felt his absent fangs. Sure enough, his troll hand appeared human. He turned his face side to side. Felt his head with both hands, confirming his unkempt hair and horns. Yet every move he made, human Jim copied.

 “What? How…T-This isn’t right. I’m not—”

 “What’s not right about it?” Elyolam asked.

 “This isn’t me!”

 “Who is it then?”

 “It’s…It’s not…”

  Elyolam leaned forward and hovered his own face over the pond. He looked just as he was. “Hm. That’s me alright. And we’re both looking in the same mirror.”

 “How is this— I don’t…” Jim’s human reflection reached out as he dipped his fingers into the water. He choked back more tears. Jim hadn’t seen this face, his human face, for so long. Now it was right in front of him, moving with him, looking back at him, and the world wasn’t spinning or distorting or collapsing yet. “I don’t get it.”

 “It’s as I said. Mirrors never lie.” Elyolam crouched beside Jim and brought a hand to the back of his head. He coaxed Jim to look his way. “My meaning was not that you hadn’t suffered the pain of loss. It was as I said : You have truly lost nothing. Not your fallen friends, and not yourself.” Jim sucked a breath. Elyolam’s tone grew impossibly softer. 

 “Who you are, Jim. Your strong, caring, selfless, and courageous heart and soul. The reasons why you were chosen for such a destiny,” Elyolam turned back to the pond and Jim followed his gaze, “it’s still there, you see?” He looked back at Jim’s troll form. “You bear many scars. Far too many. But you have remained true, my boy. You remain, and so you can become.”

 Jim blinked and suddenly his troll self was rippling in the water. 

 “What?!” he gasped. And when he reached out to skim the reflection, it was with human hands. Jim held his human palms up to his eyes before patting down his scrawny human body. Jim dug his fingers into the damp earth and craned over the water, the troll mirroring him.  

 “It could have destroyed you. Then, it was made to destroy,” Elyolam said. “Still you have remained. Remain, Jim. Remain, and become. Become, and take hold. Take hold, and become.”

 “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

 “When you awake, you will.” 

 “Wait…” White mist was creeping into Jim’s vision. His next words were slurred. “W-Wait, Great Eternity! Elyo…Elyolam!”

 “Become.” Elyolam was gone but his words resounded. 

 “Hang on…!” The mist thickened and rendered the clearing translucent. Jim could just make out a ball of iridescent light. He glimpsed his reflection one last time. His face was human on one side, troll on the other. Puffs of white shrouded the water.

 “Become.” 

 “Elyolam…!”

 “Become.”

 “How…will…I…” Jim tipped backwards. 

 “Jim. In darkness, in daylight, do what you were meant to do.”

 ◆

 Become.

 “Huh?!” Jim sprang up. Drowsiness fogged his brain and he swayed where he sat. He blinked several times, trying to make sense of everything in the dimly lit space he was in, and finally registered rows of wooden beds. Soft, even breaths reached his ears and looked beside him, the sight of Claire sleeping soundly melting his heart. Jim caressed her cheek while he scanned the rest of the room. Toby was dead asleep on the neighboring bed. Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Archie conversed quietly in a corner. On the opposite end, Douxie sat on the floor and strummed his guitar, Nari leaning against him with her eyes closed. Varvatos was still in a fragile, motionless state. Aja stood at the foot of his bed with her arms crossed, her eyes clouded and distant. The door creaked open and Krel wandered in, noticeably crestfallen. Lucy was going around offering refreshments on a tray. 

 Jim’s eyes rested back on Claire. He pressed his lips to her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open.

 “Jim?” she murmured.

 “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said. When she smiled at him, he kissed her on the lips. He pulled away and she gave him a kiss back. One more kiss and then she sat up with him, their fingers intertwined. Jim gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. “I love you, Claire.”

 Claire gaped. Her cheeks turned pink. Her heart did a cartwheel. “I love you, too.” She tilted her head, noticing that Jim’s eyes were a little clearer. “How’d you sleep?”

 “Fine, I think,” Jim said. 

 “You seem different.”

 “Yeah. I…I feel different somehow. I’m not sure why, though.” Jim rubbed his forehead with his knuckles. “I think I had a dream. But I can’t really remember.”

 Claire considered this. “They say dreams you can’t remember are usually good ones.”

 “Then this would be the first since…forever and ever.” His smile was a weary one. “It’d be nice to remember it.”

 “Maybe it’ll come back to you,” Claire said.

 “Yeah.”

 Toby stirred beside them, stretching his arms and yawning loud. “Jimbo? Claire?”

 “Rise and shine, Tobes,” Jim said. 

 “Man, how long were we out?” Toby asked as Aaarrrgghh and Blinky came over.

 “Two hours,” Aaarrrgghh said.

 “Two hours?!” Claire said in a panic.

 “Thankfully there’s been no sign of the Order yet,” Blinky said. His eyes lingered on each of their faces. “You all certainly needed the rest. How do you feel, Master Jim?”

 “I’m alright, Blink. I…” Jim trailed off. Sitting here with Claire, Toby, Blinky, and Aaarrrgghh sent a wave of odd nostalgia through him. Maybe it was because they were facing yet another global catastrophe together. But there was something else. Each of their voices whispered in his mind.

 I love you. We all love you, Jim.

 You’ll always be Jimbo to me.

 Jim friend.

 I can think of no one more becoming than you, Master Jim. 

 He listened to the rain outside, the sound of dripping water. A faint memory. Was it the dream?

 “Jim? You still with us?” Claire leaned into his line of sight.

 Jim gazed at her, then at each of them in turn. Claire, the love of his life. Toby, his best friend. Aaarrrgghh, their big lovable rock. Blinky, his fatherly mentor. Jim’s heart swelled to bursting with fondness and gratitude as it always did whenever he thought about everything they’d been through together. Whenever he thought of their unwavering love and support. Their willingness to carry Jim through. Their understanding. Their forgiveness. But in this moment, the words of comfort and encouragement they’d been speaking over him all this time were a little clearer, made a little more sense to him. 

 Jim shook away the strangeness and breathed a laugh. “Yeah. I’m still here.” He bunched the bedsheet in his hand. “I’m really sorry if I haven’t said this enough. Just…thank you. I love you guys.”

 Claire squeezed his hand. “We love you, Jim.”

 “Uno reverse, as they say!” Blinky said, all six eyes shimmering. He came around to fold his left arms around Jim. “The honor and pride as I look upon you now…there are truly no words.” Blinky looked Jim in the eyes. “I have no doubt, Master Jim, that of Destiny’s gifts, our paths crossing, the everlasting friendships we’ve forged,” Blinky gestured to all of them, “has been the greatest of all.”

 Toby and Aaarrrgghh looked at each other.

 “Agree,” Aaarrrgghh said with a tender smile. “Made many friends. Have Wingman.”

 “Copy that, Big Guy,” Toby said, trying not to cry and meeting Aaarrrgghh in a fist bump. 

 Jim got off the bed to give Blinky a proper hug. “I think so, too.” He hugged Aaarrrgghh next, then it was Toby’s turn. “C’mere, Tobes.”

 Toby sniffled hard and rushed into Jim’s arms. Claire joined in, and Blinky and Aaarrrgghh hugged the three of them.

 “Here’s to more adventures,” Jim said. If we make it past this one.

 A fleeting smile had made it onto Aja’s face at the sight. She directed her attention to Krel, sitting on the ground with his back against another bed’s footboard. He’d settled close to Douxie, his eyes tired and absent as he listened to the dulcet melodies being played. Aja went over and sat next to him. He looked at her. Aja brought him into her arms and he held her back. Neither said anything, sharing their weariness and despondency in silence. Luug snuggled up to them and whined. 

 After a while, Aja eased back from her brother and looked him in the eyes. She then wiped her tears and shakily stood, going back to Varvatos while tapping on a palm-sized communicating device.

 “What’re you doing?” Krel asked.

 “We can’t sit around anymore,” Aja said, hoarse and thick. “I need to contact Zadra. I have to get our troops ready. All of them.”

 Douxie stopped playing, and with that this fragile reprieve they’d all been clinging to evaporated. They’d given themselves time to rest, to think, to mourn, all the while being on edge and ready at the drop of a hat to suit up and go to war. Two hours wasn’t nearly enough. But two uneasy hours later, that time was up. Bellroc and Skrael were on their way. At any moment now, it would all be over. 

 “I’ll go fetch the others,” Archie said to Douxie, somber. When he returned, Steve and Eli followed along with Ricky, who was yammering on about tailored suits. Zoe trailed in behind them. 

 “Your mother is with Walter,” Archie said to Jim. His ears drooped. “She said he didn’t want to be disturbed. I left them be.”

 It was another stab in everyone’s hearts. 

 “That makes sense,” Jim said softly. “Thanks, Arch.”

 Steve went to Aja, taking her second pair of hands that weren’t occupied. His eyes flicked to Varvatos. 

 “How’s he doing?” he asked.

 “The same,” Aja said, not looking up. Her fingers tapped rapidly on her device but she kept messing up. She started shaking. “I can’t tell if he’s getting better or worse. But I know he wouldn’t want me to keep moping around. I need to— Ugh, why can’t I type this stupid transmission code!?” 

 “Aja, hey…Come on, just take it easy.”

 “I can’t take it easy, Steve!” She ripped her hands out of his, backing away. Luug yelped and scurried away to Nari. Guilt stung Aja’s core when she saw the hurt on Steve’s face but her frustration bowled over it. “Didn’t you see what happened? I made a promise as Queen to protect this planet and I failed! All of those people…Even the Akiridions on the ships were…A-And now Varvatos is like this. I couldn’t…” Aja shut her eyes and wheezed. “We have to act now! Bellroc has to be stopped or the universe will be destroyed!”  

 Aja’s wording took everyone aback.

 “What do you mean the universe?” Zoe asked. 

 “Bellroc said they wouldn’t stop with this planet,” Aja said. Her tears began to fall. “He wants to destroy other worlds and remake them the way he wants. The Arcane Order isn’t going to stop. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let them take more lives. I won’t fail again…!”

 “Aja—” Krel reached out to her but she was already out the door, worried gazes following her. Him and Steve were about to go after her, but Eli moved in front of them. 

 “I think she needs some space,” Eli said.

 “I’d sock you in the face for that lame pun but I’m too bummed,” Steve blubbered.

 Krel stared at the doorway, his core aching. He hung his head, briefly catching Zoe's gaze before going back to Varvatos’ side to check on the radiator, and to pray that it was actually working. Eli inspected with him.

 “Might need more help,” Aaarrrgghh said. “Titans can summon monsters. A lot.”

 “Aaarrrgghh’s right. The Ice Titan’s frosty ghost minions just kept coming no matter how many we took out,” Toby said.

 “Can your Titan do the same, Nari?” Douxie asked.

 Nari scratched Luug’s belly. “Our Titans are capable of spawning creatures to serve us, yes. But I must focus all of my power on Bellroc and Skrael. My carnifloras will not be as plentiful.” 

 “So we’ll need more backup then,” Jim said. 

 “Just as well. The trolls of Harmonia have offered their aid,” Blinky said. Jim and Claire’s eyes lit.

 “That’s Luma for you,” Claire said. “But will that be enough?” 

 “Luma send Stalkings to tell other trolls,” Aaarrrgghh said.

 Blinky thought. “Other troll clans won’t know what’s transpired since then. Perhaps we must depart on our own excursion, my friend. It must be known that the primordial Heartstones have fallen, aside from one. Here, in Arcadia, where our last battle must be fought.”

 His words hung in the air. Arcadia. Somehow it always came down to Arcadia Oaks.

 Aaarrrgghh held Blinky’s gaze for a moment, then nodded with a resolute grunt. 

 “We’re coming with you,” Toby said.

 “I’ll shadow us wherever we need to go,” Claire said.

 Blinky shook his head, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Preserve your strength, Fair Claire. The gyres will make do.” Aaarrrgghh sulked despite himself.

 “How about we take a portal to Harmonia first? We can take the gyres from there,” Jim said.

 “Very well, Master Jim,” Blinky said.

 Jim looked over at Douxie and Zoe. “What’re you guys going to do?”

 “Zoe and I have some associates of our own,” Douxie said.

 “I personally know entire communities of underground wizards, and not just the guys at Hex Tech,” Zoe said. “They might be willing to lend a hand. Or a wand, I guess.” 

 “I personally have many…uh, previous mates I may or may not have ticked off,” Douxie said. “B-But the end of the world should be enough to mend burned bridges, right?” Archie rolled his eyes.

 “Well that’s something,” Jim said with a small smile. He turned back to Claire and the others. “We should go right away.”

 “Stay safe,” Douxie said. He stepped closer and gripped Jim’s shoulder. He took a long look at each of their faces. “Please.” They all returned Douxie’s sentiment, eyes glistening, hoping for each other’s well being. The group nodded in earnest, then vanished. As soon as they were gone, Douxie swayed on his feet, pins and needles pricking his fingertips.

 “Doux…!” Zoe quickly supported him. “Hey, you good?”

 Douxie sniveled. “I just…I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

 “Me neither,” Zoe whispered. She’d been the newest to all of this and she wasn’t one to open up so easily. But Zoe knew that these were friends  she wanted to keep for a while. “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll get through this. Together.” 

 Douxie looked down at her and his heart clenched. If there was ever a time, it was now. 

 “Zoe,” he said.

 She looked up. “Yeah?”

 “There’s…” Oh no. “Um…T-There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you. No…I need to say to you.” Douxie’s mind flailed and he already wanted to backpedal. 

 Her electric blue eyes widened. Her cheeks dusted pink and she berated herself because there was no way he was going to say what she wanted him to say.

 “...Yeah?”

 “Yes.” Yes? Douxie’s stomach flipped. Blasted buckets of fuzz, it’s all gone off the rails and I’m still at the bloody station! “Yes, I…You see, for a very, very, very long time now…I’ve…”

 Zoe’s heart thrashed. Calm yourself, woman!! “You’ve?”

 Just spit it out, Hisirdoux! He locked eyes with her so intensely she jumped. “The truth is, Zoe, I…I-I lo–”

 A mighty roar boomed through the castle. Douxie conjured his staff, bracelet coming alight and fear burning in his throat. Sparks zipped around Zoe’s fingertips. 

 “W-What was that?!” Krel cried, reaching for his serrator.

 Another roar reverberated, this time closer. Steve and Eli rushed out the room, weapons in hand. Douxie, Zoe, Nari, and Krel hurried after them. A third roar resounded as they all ran down the hall. It was coming from the foyer. They crossed the threshold out of the servants’ quarters and beelined toward the towering archway, weapons poised and magic churning.

 “Tenebris—” Douxie skid to a halt, as did the others and they all nearly barreled into each other. Aja was already here, serrator configured into a cannon but lowered. All of Douxie’s anxiety melted away as he watched Archie nuzzle against the familiar furry face of a leonine dragon. “Charlie!”

 Charlemagne the Devourer turned to Douxie and guffawed. “Hisirdoux, my boy! I’ve been roaring to see you! Bwahaha!”

 “Father, please…,” Archie mumbled, but didn’t lose his smile.

 Douxie ran to hug Charlemagne’s chest. “Charlie! It’s good to see you, mate!”

 “Have you gotten smaller?” Charlemagne held Douxie in his paws. He took note of Douxie’s sunken face and the bags under his eyes darker than ever. “You’re thin as a wurm’s whiskers.”

 “Seems I’ve lost my appetite a smidge,” Douxie sighed. “End of the world and all.”

 “A blood berry pie is in order! Where’s your kitchen?” Charlemagne noticed Aja and Krel staring up at him. The two jumped when he bent close to study them. “Hmmm…Or would these ones prefer blueberry?”

 “I-I’d prefer blue berries over bloody ones,” Krel said.

 Aja tentatively touched one of Charlie’s horns. For a moment, the weight in her eyes lifted and a small smile found its way onto her face.

 “You’re one lively creature, Charlie,” she said.

 “Lively? Ohohohoho, I like that one!” Charlemagne said. “What’s your name?”

 “Aja Tarron, Queen of Akiridion-5. This is my little brother, Krel. He’s the King In Waiting.”

 “Akiridions, you say? Mmhm! You must be the visitors from other worlds I’ve heard so much about.”

 “You’ve heard about us?” Krel asked.

 “Of course! I don’t live under a rock, you know.” 

 “You live in a den. Underground,” Archie said.

 “Hoho, I live under several rocks, you could say!” Charlemagne sniggered. “But yes, ancient tomes have written about beings such as yourselves. You’re closely connected to our world, according to myriads of texts. Or should I say, Akiriding to them! Wahahahahaaa!” 

 Archie groaned. “Father— Alright, alright that’s enough! Look, this here is Steve and Eli!” 

 “Nice to meet ya, Dragon Dad,” Steve said. 

 “Hello, Sir Dragon, sir,” Eli said.

 Archie flew to Zoe next. “A very dear friend of mine here. Zoe Ashildr. She’s accompanied Douxie and myself on countless adventures.”

 “Oho! I’m,” Charlemagne pointed at Zoe’s hair, “tickled pink to meet you!”

 Zoe made a face. “Aha…Yeah. Hey there, Archie’s dad who…I didn’t think I’d be meeting. Like ever.”

 “Archie’s never told you stories about old Charlemagne?” Charlemagne asked.

 Archie pressed a paw to his snout. “Please don’t—”

 “Wait, Charlemagne?” Zoe’s head snapped to Archie. “As in that Charlemagne?” She gaped for a second, then bit her bottom lip and snorted. “Archie…Seriously? No…This? This is the big bad draconic terror you’ve been telling me about for the past millennium? And he’s your dad?”

 “Archibald’s always been quite the storyteller! Or, or rather I should say,” Charlie wiggled his rump, “Storytailer? Bwahahahaha!”

 Nari giggled. “You are so funny.”

 Charlemagne’s hearty laughter fizzled. The humor on his face gradually transitioned into grave focus the longer he looked at her. He stalked forward and, like with the others, inched his nose close to examine her.

 “Funny…Very funny indeed,” he said lowly. Wariness sparked in his eyes, pupils turning to slits. His lip pulled back to flash the tip of a fang. “And what are you about, Arcane one?”

 “Father…,” Archie said, flying next to him. “There’s no need for that. Nari’s a friend.”

 Nari stared back. “I promise, I do not want to harm anyone. I am no longer of the Order. I am here to fight against them. To protect this world.”

 “It’s true, Charlie,” Douxie said, stepping beside her. 

 Charlemagne’s eyes flickered to Douxie, then back to Nari. He reared away then took a seat, his gaze softening just a tad. 

 “Very well then,” he said. 

 Archie settled utop his head. “Thanks, Dad.”

 “And thank you for coming,” Douxie said. “You’re here to help us…right?”

 “This dragon never sits on his claws,” Charlemagne said.

 “Yeah, I heard,” Zoe said, teasing Archie with a smirk before taking her phone out. “Speaking of help, we should start making calls, Doux.”

 “Right,” Douxie said. 

 They got to work sending text messages and leaving voicemails. Krel went back to the servants’ quarters while Aja, Steve, and Eli chatted with Charlemagne and Archie.

 “Oho, that’s right, I have a berry pie to make!” Charlemagne exclaimed.

 Nari slipped away to the halls, checking each window until she could see her Forest Titan. It’d been facing the Heartstone hovering over Arcadia, but now turned to, having sensed her acknowledgement. Nari climbed out the window and scaled the wet stone walls, lifting herself over parapets and onto a walkway. Remorse coursed through her when she skimmed the ruined portion of the castle, its shattered stone walls marred by char and frost. She hopped and padded on all fours up a watchtower, unbothered by the slickness brought about by the rain. It had also rained endlessly back then, when the Titans had first been unleashed. As much as Nari relished the coolness dripping over her skin, trickling through her hair, she missed the moon, the stars, the sun. She missed them even more now. Her Titan’s natural green glow. The fiery brilliance of the Heartstone in the distance. The soft blue Heart of Camelot keeping the castle aloft. It seemed those were the only lights left in the whole world. When she reached the top of the tower, Nari called her Titan closer.  

 “I am sorry,” she whispered when it came to stand below her. “This was never supposed to happen.”

 Whether it was the end or not, Nari feared she’d never see the light again. 

 ◇

 Jim held Claire against him as she wept. They were sitting across Luma in her den, a warm nest of lustrous gems where they’d found much solace and had been given much counsel. To come back to this safe place in these circumstances, to just hear how many of their Harmonia friends they’d lost to the Ice Titan, was beyond devastating. 

 “They all fought with such valor, my dears,” Luma said quietly as she looked upon them. She held Claire’s hand across her crystal table, her grief equally palpable. “I know they would have done so again.”

 “I can’t do this,” Claire sobbed. “I can’t take this anymore. I can’t….!”

 All Jim could do was hold her tighter in silence, tears running down his face. He shut his eyes, his hand on his knee balling and shaking. It had been one sorrow after another the past several hours. But in this moment, boiling through his veins, a furious current in a haunted ocean, was rage like he’d never felt before.

 “Bellroc and Skrael are gonna get what’s coming to them,” Jim spat. “If it’s the last thing I do I’ll— I’m gonna—”

 “Jim. I understand your pain and anger,” Luma said. “But hatred must not be what drives you.”

 “Well I do hate them!” Jim rose off his seat and glared into Luma’s eyes. “I hate them because all this is their fault! All they’ve ever done is destroy and hurt people! Because of them there was an Eternal Night. Because of them now hundreds of people and so many of our friends here are dead! Nomura…!” He faced the wall and took a huge breath before locking back on Luma. “What Skrael did to her…What Bellroc did to those ships…! What both of them did to me—”  

 Jim gasped. The following silence was filled with his ragged breathing. Luma calmly stared back at him.

 “Jim…,” Claire said, reaching for him.

 “I hurt you.” Jim looked at her. “I hurt Douxie. I hurt all of my friends because of them.” He turned back to Luma. “So yeah I hate them. I hate them so much.”

 Luma folded her hands on the table, gaze lowering in thought. Claire got up and touched Jim’s arm. It was the first time he’d actually said it, that the Arcane Order was to blame. 

 “Your hatred is not misplaced,” Luma said. “Of course, we must hate the evil that has caused all of this. But your hatred must not consume you. Is that not how the Arcane Order has done its business? With their ruthless hatred?”

 Jim said nothing, but his eyes softened. 

 “Do not misunderstand me.” Luma stood and maneuvered around her table. Her gaze glowed with affection as she placed one hand on Jim’s shoulder and the other on Claire’s. But then her expression darkened, a dangerous glint in her eyes, and her tone became low and hushed with sincerity. “I’m very, very angry, my dears. And so I will wage war with these harbingers of darkness and destruction. But not with more bitterness. But with love for what is right.” Luma looked at Jim and Claire’s faces. “For what is good.”

 “‘For the good of all.’” Jim met her gaze. “That’s what you always say.”

 Luma smiled. “And for all that is good.”

 “Our friends won’t have died for nothing,” Claire said, wiping her cheek.

 Luma caressed her head. “No, my dear.” 

 They left the den just as Toby, Aaarrrgghh, and Blinky returned from their separate trips. The Wingmen had taken one gyre while Blinky had taken another. Jim and Claire had returned before them, having revisited Moonglow Hollow and one other troll clan.

 “How’d it go for you guys?” Jim asked.

 “Quagawumps did not hesitate,” Aaarrrgghh reported with a smile.

 “Good ol’ Queen W basically sent her whole crew to spread the word,” Toby said. “But the Kruberas said they’d have to think about it. They want to know for sure we’re serious about the whole going to war thing.”

 “We still couldn’t get through to Alabast,” Claire sighed. “But I mean, I get it. He’s scared. Who wouldn’t be?”

 “He did point us to some other trolls, the…Geowarts?” Jim said. “Anyway, they didn’t seem too keen on joining us, either. But at the very least they said they’d help get the message around. What about you, Blink?”

 “The trolls of Gobble’s Grotto and Diamarket displayed similar reservations,” Blinky said. “Uncertain but willing to inform others.”

 “Our Stalkings are also carrying the news,” Luma said. “We’ve created quite the ripple effect.” 

 “Let’s just hope they answer the call,” Jim said. 

 “Should they not,” Luma touched his shoulder, “we must hope still.”

 They all gazed at her and nodded.

 ◇

 “I sincerely apologize for setting your shop on fire, really! Why don’t we bury the hatchet?” Douxie jerked his phone away from his ear when the sorcerer on the line started screaming some choice words. “No, not in my skull please…C-Come on, mate! The world’s ending for real this time and we could really use your—Hello? Hello? Fuzzbuckets…”

 Zoe shook her head, still on the phone. “Thanks, Regina. Tell everyone I said hey. Alright. Bye.” She hung up and sighed at Douxie. “What was that, the fifth one?”

 “Fourth one, thank you very much,” Douxie grumbled. “You know, half of these offenses were Archie’s idea!”

 “And you went along with all of them,” Zoe said. 

 Douxie crossed his arms. “Well you’re not entirely innocent. Don’t act like you never participated in some of our tomfoolery. And how many warlocks and fortune tellers have you stolen from for your,” he waved his fingers, “hedge witchy shenanigans, hm?”

 Zoe met his playful tone with a smirk. “First of all, my missions with you guys never ended in the accidental destruction of property or someone yelling, ‘You’re gonna pay for this, Casperan!.’ And second, I’m not buddies with people I’ve stolen from.”

 “Including me?” Douxie said, feigning hurt. “Because you’ve definitely stolen from me.”

 “What? I have not!”

 “I think you have.”

 “When?”

 Douxie grinned and started counting on his fingers. “Oh I don’t know, my little knife when we first met, my boots so I would stop following you around, my bracelet that one time…” My heart. “Just to name a few things.”

 Zoe rolled her eyes. “Okay, I didn’t keep any of it so technically I didn’t steal anything.”

 “Not true.” It came out quiet, and as soon as he said it, Douxie’s cheeks warmed. But he gave a little more. “There’s…something of mine you stole a long time ago. And I’m certain I’ll ever get it back from you.”

 Their eyes met and the teasing was over.

 “What are you talking about?” Zoe asked, but for some reason her heart started racing. When Douxie didn’t answer, just kept taking her in with his golden eyes, she took a breath. “By the way, what were you going to say earl—”

 A shadow portal manifested and out came the Trollhunters. Douxie hurried over to throw his arms around Jim. Zoe squeezed Claire in a hug. 

 “Glad you all made it back,” Douxie said. He ruffled Jim’s hair.

 “How’d it go?” Zoe asked.

 “Lot of heebie jeebies but news of the impending doom is getting around so there’s that?” Toby said. 

 “I suppose that’s not the worst report,” Douxie sighed. “All we can do now is hope.”

 They followed Douxie to the foyer to make Charlemagne’s acquaintance.

 “Welcome back guys!” Eli said while his serrator scraped against Steve’s axe.

 “Still no sign the of the Arcane Buttsnacks,” Steve added. “Get ready for the Palchuk Swing, Pepperjack!” He pushed Eli off and spun into another strike. The Creepslayerz continued their sparing while the others reconvened with Aja, who was engrossed in another one of Charlemagne’s stories.

 “Dragons are infamous for collecting treasures. But Troll Dragons are unusually bewitched by whatever sparkles,” Charlemagne said. “Which is why the late Troll Dragon King, Zong Shi, met his demise. It was his insatiable greed. Didn’t even care for his own flock!”

 “He let them all die to save his own scales,” Archie huffed.

 “He sounds like an awful king,” Aja said. “All he cared about was himself.” 

 Charlemagne smiled softly and poked Aja’s cheek. “And what do you care about, Your Majesty?”

 “Not just myself,” Aja said quickly, in earnest. “I care about my friends. I care about my planet and this planet and everything in it.” She stared at her hands in her lap, core aching. “I’d do anything, everything I could, to protect them.”

 “Now that’s the heart of a Queen!” Charlemagne laughed. “Oho, my apologies. Core, is it? That is the core-rect term!”

 At this point, Archie had stopped trying. But Aja couldn’t help but be tickled every time. She chuckled into her hands while her friends rolled their eyes and tried not to laugh. 

 “And I thought my jokes were bad,” Toby said.

 “Mmm they still are,” Jim said.

 Toby snapped his finger guns. “And you still love me!”

 Aja quieted. She had a sense of why Charlemagne had told her about a lousy king, a ruler who chose selfish ambition over caring for his citizens. Charlemagne said she had the heart of a Queen. Her core glowed with gratitude, yet continued to burn with shame. The memory was still there, a deep cut that was still fresh.

 “I couldn’t save those people,” Aja said quietly. 

 “You’re right. You could not,” Charlemagne said.

 Archie glared. “Father!”

 “Let me finish, Archibald. You couldn’t save them, but you made an effort! And while your efforts failed, you,” Charlemagne pointed over Aja’s core, “have not. Why, in this old dragon’s eyes is no failure, but what a Queen ought to be!”

 Claire settled next to Aja and touched her arm. “I gotta say I agree.”

 “Same here,” Jim said.

 “I’ve met some pretty heinous nitwits of rulers in my day,” Douxie said. “You’re not even close, darling.”

 “And you’re not alone.” Aja looked up to see Steve coming closer. He knelt and took two of her hands, looked into her eyes. “Not to quote some lame musical or whatever, but we’re in this together. We’re here for you, Aja.” He cradled her cheek. “I’m here for you.”

 Tears swamped her eyes in seconds and she threw her arms around him. “I’m so sorry I snapped at you.”

 “It’s cool, Aj,” Steve said, folding her into his embrace. “You’re still my Akiridion Ninja Queen Honey Muffin.”

 Aja giggled and pulled back, brushing tears away. “My adorable blond oaf.” Steve chuckled and booped her nose. She peppered kisses all over his face before landing on his lips. 

 Steve inhaled, enraptured by his bubbly bright blue angel, Aja Tarron. “I’m like the most biggest, highest percent sure that I’m in love with you.”

 Aja gasped, then melted into breathy laughter. “I love you, too, Steve!” They smooched again, both smiling ear to ear, the sound of someone coughing going right over their heads.

 “Awww!” Eli said.

 “That’s sweet,” Douxie said. 

 “Yeah,” Zoe whispered. Her eyes flickered to Douxie, and he just missed it.

 Steve and Aja broke apart, foreheads touching.

 “Thank you.” Aja looked around at her friends, affection and gratefulness flowering in her chest. “Thank you.”

 “Aja!!” Everyone turned to see Krel running into the foyer. He slowed to catch his breath.

 Aja hurried to him. “Krel? What is it? What’s the matter?” 

 When Krel looked up, his eyes were shimmering. “It’s Varvatos! He’s awake!”

 They all booked it to the servants’ quarters. Varvatos was sitting upright, Nari, the Blanks, and Luug with him. Aja sprinted to throw all four arms around him. The others gathered around the bed, relieved smiles on their faces.

 “Varvatos Vex is still recovering, Your Majesty,” Varvatos rasped, but he hugged her back tight.

 “Thank Seklos!” Aja cried into his shoulder. “I-I thought you were gone! I thought we’d lost you!” 

 Krel joined the embrace, weeping softly. “We’re so happy you came back, Varvatos.”

 “Varvatos Vex will always come back for his royals,” Varvatos said. “However…he does fear his core is permanently damaged.” 

 “What?” Aja looked at Krel, then at Nari. “What does he mean?”

 “My magic and your brother’s technology were able to restore your friend’s soul,” Nari said. “But it has been deeply scarred by Bellroc.” Her gaze went to Varvatos. “It has left his life core weakened and fragile.”

 “If his core gets hit again,” Krel’s voice broke, “he’s not going to make it.” He wiped his eyes with his arm. “But I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

 Aja gazed at Varvatos, her guardian and mentor. One more slip up, one more lapse in focus, one wrong move and he’d be gone. Another lost. She gripped Varvatos’ hand and cried, the very thought crushing her to the point of breaking.

 Varvatos kneaded her hands. “There is no need to shed tears. Varvatos Vex will be just fine.” 

 “I’m so sorry,” Aja sobbed. “I let this happen.”

 “M-Me, too,” Krel said. “I couldn’t help you.”

 “You need not blame yourselves,” Varvatos said, gruff but gentle. “It is simply the nature of fearsome, glorious battle. And Varvatos Vex doesn’t feel his royals have failed him.” He tucked away a strand of Aja’s hair, eyes going tender on her and Krel. “What a glorious Queen and King In Waiting you’ve become. There is no greater honor for Varvatos Vex…for me than to fight by your sides. Words cannot formulate how proud I am. How proud your parents would be.”

 Aja and Krel’s eyes flooded with more tears and they rushed back into Varvatos’ arms. Luug wiggled into the embrace, barking and slobbering all over their faces. Aja laughed, scooping the little purple alien up. Steve kissed the top of her head. Krel and Eli hooked arms around each other’s shoulders with a fist bump. Ricky and Lucy, being the Blanks, squeezed the daylights out of all of them.

 “I’m just glad Varvatos is with us again. Thanks to my amazing little brother and,” Aja looked over at a certain forest child, “Nari.” She went over to hold Nari close. “Thank you so much.”

 Nari hugged her back with a giggle. “It is my joy.”

 “You are a joy,” Aja said.

 “That she is!” Douxie hoisted Nari onto his back.

 “You are all my joy!” Nari said. Douxie spun her around and she squealed in delight.

 Smiles and laughter all around. Thunder boomed outside. Rain continued to lash against the castle. The darkness was ever present, drawing ever closer. But what had been rekindled in their hearts in this moment, the smallest flame of peace, filled the space with unmatched radiance. 

 Jim pondered that fateful day at the canal, as he’d done countless times. Aja and Krel thought on the siege of Akiridion-5, their crash landing on this speck in the universe called Earth. Centuries of hiding in shadows and keeping others at arm’s length came to Douxie’s mind. Everything that brought them all here. All the trials, all the loss, all the pain to follow. None of them would wish it upon anyone. But as they gazed around the room, their hearts were warm and thankful.

 Jim fell into conversation with Zoe, which was soon interrupted by the Blanks advertising toasters. Aja greeted Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, ever enthralled. Charlemagne dipped his head and she stroked his snout. Krel and Claire rescued Archie from a happy Luug’s mandibles. Nari sat with Eli and asked him about being so close to the stars. Douxie relaxed next to Steve and Toby as they listened to yet another Varvatos speech about pulverizing one’s enemies.

 Friendships they wouldn’t give up for the world.

 ◇

 Trollmarket’s Heartstone glinted with every crash of lightning. The storm had gotten so turbulent at one point that they’d shuttered all the nearby windows. Douxie leaned on the windowsill, mind wandering as he looked out into the squalling night. Six hours since they’d all returned from facing the Titans, and the Order was still yet to be seen. Dawn was surely approaching, hidden behind the thick wall of black clouds. Douxie had been through his fair share of near apocalypses. But this time he truly wondered if the sun would ever come out again. Douxie frowned. No. They had Nari. They had one another, so anything was possible. They had hope. Despite the doubt, despite the fear of what was to come, there was always hope.

 “Great Eternity,” Douxie whispered. “I don’t know where you are or if you can hear me. But we could really use your help, mate.”

 “Talking to yourself?” Zoe had found him in the hallway. She smiled then joined him at the window. “Keep it together, Casperan.” Douxie rolled his eyes with a chuckle. They both gazed at the Heartstone for a silent moment. “Not that I’m complaining but…what’s taking the Order so long? Part of me wishes they’d just show up already.”

 “I’ve been wondering, too. Last time they took a while, it was because they were injured,” Douxie said. “Maybe Skrael had a number done on him.”

 Zoe saddened. “Wouldn’t rule that out, knowing Nomura.” She rested her head against Douxie’s shoulder when he brought her close. “Do you think we can win this one?”

 “Some say faith, hope, and love are the three things that never go away,” Douxie said. “I think I believe that. And I think that’ll be enough.”

 “You’re such a sap.”

 “You’re not disagreeing so I can’t be the only one.”

 Zoe’s eyes narrowed at the Heartstone. She softly asked, “How many times have we faced the end of the world, Douxie?”

 Douxie followed her gaze. “I’ve lost count. We’ve…” Him and her. From plagues to world wars, evil magicks to supernatural catastrophes, asteroids to right now, Zoe had always been right by his side. He looked at her next to him, at her cute nose and pretty lashes and soft lips. With this current apocalypse having the most dreadful prospects to date, Douxie feared it would be their last. No more distractions then. “Zoe.”

 “Yeah?” She turned to him, and her heart skipped. The way Douxie was looking at her, as if she was the only person in the whole world, made her flush. It wasn’t fair, when he looked at her like that. Her reasoning, her excuses, her satisfaction with remaining his closest friend forever, all of it came crumbling down. When Douxie looked at her like that, it made her think he felt the same way. It made her want to hear what he was going to say before.

 “What I was trying to say earlier, if you recall…” Douxie’s cheeks warmed and his insides caught the jiggles. He took Zoe’s hands, latching on firm before he got cold feet. He heard her gasp and he thought it was utterly ridiculous how, even now as he was doing this, he was denying that her red face and eager eyes meant anything. “Zoe, you’ve been my closest friend for centuries. You’re…” Douxie swallowed. “You’re the most brilliant and brave and big hearted person I’ve ever met. I’ve always wanted to tell you that I don’t know where I would be if…if you hadn’t been a part of my life. If you hadn’t put up with me. Zoe, you’ve given me so much courage. You’ve always inspired me as a person and—and a musician and of course as a wizard and I—”

 “I like you.”

 Douxie stared at her, mouth open, words lost. Zoe stared back, breathing deep. A second passes, then ten. After fifteen, all Douxie could manage was a feeble, “...What?”

 Zoe gulped. She was shaking. “I like you. When I first met you I thought you were, like, really annoying cause you wouldn’t leave me alone. But I liked that you did that. You…You were my first real friend. You didn’t give up on me. I like how you never give up on people. And how you stick up for them and take care of them. I like how you’re always so kind, even when you don’t have to be. I actually really like how reckless and dumb you can be. I like how you always do things your way, no matter what anyone thinks. You’re always unapologetically you. And I…I like everything about you. A lot.” Zoe squeezed Douxie’s hands. His big, warm, gentle hands. “I like you, Hisirdoux Casperan.”

 Her words were an enchantment, leaving Douxie speechless still. When the spell finally settled upon his heart, all he could do was breathe a laugh. When it took full effect, Douxie’s legs nearly failed him. He tilted forward, his forehead coming to rest on Zoe’s shoulder. His heart danced and his aura sang in his spirit. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.

 “I love you,” Douxie said, voice thick with emotion. He gazed fully into her dazzling blue eyes. “I’m in love with you, Zoe Ashildr. I’ve always been in love with you.”

 Then her arms were around his neck and his hands were cradling the small of her back.

 “Is this for real?” Zoe whispered.

 Douxie hugged her against him. A perfect fit. His lips brushed hers, the lightest touch that sent electricity rippling through his body. 

 “Does that answer your question?” Douxie breathed.

 Zoe laughed, breathless with a single tear falling. “I love you, too.”

 Douxie pressed his lips against hers, sliding one hand up to cup her cheek. Zoe unwound her arms from his neck, clung to his jacket and kissed him back. They’d both convinced themselves this moment would never happen, sharing a kiss that was real. No sneaking into balls or playing pretend for a mission. Just the two of them finding their harbored feelings reciprocated. It was everything they’d imagined and more. Zoe loved Douxie’s lips, chapped and warm. She loved how he always smelled like soap, burnt cloves, and motorcycle oil. Douxie wanted to keep Zoe in his arms forever. She was soft and sweet and always had the faint perfume of bubblegum. They pressed closer, lost in each other. Nothing else mattered. But when their lips broke apart, regret flooded in.

 “I’m sorry I waited until now to tell you,” Douxie said. He touched his forehead to hers. “I was too afraid that I would lose your friendship. That I would lose you.”

 Zoe’s fingers stroked his cheek. “Same. I mean even though you were attempting to hit on me when we first met, I didn’t think you actually…you know. And when we kissed in the past to dupe people, I thought that was all it was. I just always thought you were being you. Mister Chivalry and all.”

 “I felt terrible whenever we had to do that,” Douxie said. “I was convinced you hated it.”

 Zoe gazed into his beautiful golden eyes. She took his face in her hands and stood on her toes to kiss him. She pulled away only for Douxie to chase her lips into another one. 

 “Mordrax’s miracles, it’s about bloody time!”

 They gasped out of their kiss and looked to see Archie and Nari peeking around the corridor entrance. Heat burgeoned in both their faces, but Douxie’s arm remained around Zoe’s waist as the pair approached. Nari bounded up to them, positively beaming.

 “Oh this is so wonderful!” she said. “Douxie, you have finally done it! You have shared your love!”

 “After nine hundred insufferable years,” Archie said as he hopped onto Douxie’s shoulder. “You both were driving me mad.”

 “You always knew, didn’t you,” Douxie said.

 “Merlin’s beard, everyone knew. Except the pair of you, evidently.”

 Zoe turned redder, thinking back on her talk with Claire. “That’s…a little embarrassing.” 

 “No, it is beautiful.” Nari held hands with them. “Your romance is a gift. Are you going to get married now?”

 A string of coughs seized Douxie while Zoe’s face went an even brighter scarlet. 

 “T-That’s a bit…Well I mean, that would be nice,” Douxie sputtered. He couldn’t look Zoe in the face. “I-I mean would that…be nice? It would be nice if you thought so, Zo, but you don’t have to think that would be nice if you don’t—”

 “It,” Zoe’s eyes flickered to his, “would be…nice. I mean we agreed a long time ago we’d be in each other’s lives forever.” She lifted her face to look at him properly. A soft smile. “I guess in that way we’re already an old married couple.”

 “Heavens knows you both act like one,” Archie sighed. He leapt off Douxie’s shoulder and rejoined Nari on the ground. “Might as well be official.” For all his snark, Archie’s eyes were nothing short of fond elation as he watched his Familiar and the love of his life.

 Douxie held Zoe’s coy gaze. The implications of her words brushed his heart and he couldn’t help smiling back, a breathless laugh leaving him. Yet he knew it wasn’t the time to fixate on it. The thought of that time never coming brooded in the back of his mind along with the regret of having waited a millennium. So Douxie just cradled Zoe’s cheek and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering long. She smiled and leaned into him, holding his arm around her waist.

 “Have you ever been in love, Nari?” Douxie asked. “Just wondering.”

 “Oh yes. I love you and all of my friends very much,” Nari said.

 He chuckled. “No, I meant romantically.”

 Nari cocked her head. “Mm, no. My father did not create us with such feelings.”

 “Righto. All the lads in the world are safe then,” Douxie muttered. Zoe elbowed him.

 “We love you, too, by the way,” she said, stroking Nari’s hair.

 Nari’s eyes glimmered. She was about to respond when footsteps echoed down the corridor. Jim and Claire turned the corner.

 “There you guys are,” Jim said. 

 “I was wondering where you disappeared to, Teach,” Claire said. “I had some questions about my magic…” She spotted Douxie’s arm around Zoe’s waist. Realization sparked in her eyes and a smile formed. “Wait…Are you guys…?”

 Zoe simpered with a slight nod.

 “Oh my gosh!” Claire squealed, hands on her cheeks. “I freaking knew it! I’m so happy for you guys! I’m so telling Aja and the others.”

 “Looks like we were all right,” Jim said.

 “Was it really that obvious?” Douxie asked, baffled.

 Jim smirked and crossed his arms. “Oh yeah.”

 Douxie and Zoe shared a look before sighing through smiles of defeat. His arm slipped from around her waist so he could take her hand, their fingers linking.

 “So what was your magical question, Claire?” Douxie asked.

 “Something feels…off. In my aura,” Claire said. She looked at her palms. “It’s like something’s pressing in on me and I’m pretty sure it’s not good.”

 Douxie examined himself and found he had no such inklings. As he pondered it, unease permeated his lungs. 

 “You’re naturally gifted with shadow magic,” Douxie said, “which makes you more sensitive to the presence of darkness. Which means…”

 “The Order. They must be getting closer,” Zoe said, squeezing Douxie’s hand.

 “We need to tell the others and get ready,” Jim said. In the corner of his eye, Nari moved to the window. “Nari?”

 Her palm touched the glass as she stared intently at the Heartstone. Then she bent her fingers, claws scratching the sinister night. 

 “It is time,” Nari uttered. She focused on her faint reflection. “This time, I will do what is right.” She turned back to her friends, eyes mournful and determined. “I did not fight against Bellroc and Skrael before. But now, I will make sure they do not win. I will use my Titan, all of my strength, against them. So that what was meant to destroy will instead be a weapon for goodness.”

 “Now that’s what I call a pep talk!” Douxie said. He noticed Jim go wide-eyed. “Uh, Jim? You alright?”

 Actually, Jim was having an epiphany. Nari’s words struck the back of his mind and similar words bursted forth.

 “It could have destroyed you. Then, it was made to destroy. Still you have remained.”

 Fragments of memories flashed, as though a gate had been flung wide open in his brain. His troll form. The school. The ball of light. The stars. His reflection in the pond. The voices.

 “I remember,” Jim gasped. He looked at Claire. “I remember my dream!”

 “Your dream?” Archie said.

 Something compelled Jim to walk right up to the window. For the first time in a year, he looked right at his reflection and took it in. The shape of his face. The color of his eyes.  The scar on his brow. He waited for the crippling anxiety to come, for the shame to wring his neck, for the monster to warp his features. His heart hammered and his breathing was rapid, but this time it was different. Now that Jim remembered it, the realness of the dream flooded through him. That moment of looking into the pond as a troll and seeing his human face shone clear in his mind.

 “Jim…!” Claire watched him, nervous and shocked. “A-Are you…okay?”

 “Yeah.” Jim looked at his friends. “Yeah…I think I am. Parts of it are still fuzzy but…In my dream, I was troll again. It started off as another nightmare. But then I heard your voices. And then there was this pond and all of you guys, all of my friends were there. Then things were okay. I looked into the pond and…” Jim touched his face. “I saw myself. My human self. And then this crazy thing happened where I was human again and my reflection turned into my troll self. It was…It felt so real.”

 The dreamy scene of every one of Jim’s friends and loved ones surrounding him around the pond overwhelmed him. Claire, Toby, his mom, Blinky, Aja, Steve, Douxie, Nari. Nomura. All of their voices, full of nothing but love and encouragement for him, soothed Jim’s mind like a melody.

 “I love you, Jim. We all do.” Claire.

 “There’s nothing to be afraid of, mate.” Douxie.

 “We’re all here for you no matter what.” Eli.

 “Best friends forever and ever.” Toby.

 “Nothing is lost.” Luma.

 “Not Jim’s fault.” Aaarrrgghh.

 “You’re the same to me.” Krel.

 “I see no beast within you.” Nari.

 “I’ve seen enough monsters in my day. You’re nowhere close.” Nomura.

 “Take a look, Young Atlas. It’s alright.” Walter.

 “You’ll always be my boy.” Mom.

 “A champion. A friend. A son. A magnificent son. I see it still.” Blinky.

 Jim’s friends had been telling him these things over and over, constant reassurance. Not once did they ever relent in their support, even though he couldn’t believe it. But for some reason now, their words were clicking into place. He could hear them a little better, a little louder. Maybe the dream had felt so real because, Jim was beginning to consider, it was real. Perhaps that’s the reason he’d chased that ball of iridescent light like a lifeline. It’d been the truth all along.

 “Guys, I…” Jim blinked, expelling tears he hadn’t noticed gathering. He looked back at himself in the window. His gaze sharpened. “There’s something I have to do.”

 They found everyone in the foyer, Varvatos having regained the strength to stand. A modified breastplate was secured to his chest, electric blue lines of Akiridion influence making Vs down the steel. He was having a quick spar with Aja, putting the sturdiness of its protection to the test. 

 Walter and Barbara finally rejoined the group, Walter speaking quietly with Blinky while Barbara checked on everyone else. Aja took notice of Douxie and Zoe’s intertwined hands and let out a giddy cheer. Eli clapped his hands while Steve hooted and hollered. The Blanks belted a very flat and pitchy version of “The Wedding March.” Once everyone was done teasing and gushing over the new relationship, they had to break the news.

 “The Order’s on their way. Claire’s feeling their presence,” Douxie said. 

 “About time,” Walter said, low and quiet. The look in his eyes could melt steel.

 In the midst of all the nerves, Jim murmured a request to Krel. Surprise lit on Krel’s face, but at Jim’s certain gaze, he nodded and asked for Aaarrrgghh’s assistance. Minutes later the pair returned, and in Aaarrrgghh’s grasp was the slab of earth that sheathed Excalibur.

 Realization dawned on the group, and they all fixed their eyes on Jim with bated breath as he slowly approached the sword.

 “Master Jim, are you certain?” Blinky asked.

 Jim nodded, determined to keep his eyes forward. He dared to meet Excalibur’s green gem, braved stepping closer to the sword’s ethereal shine. But then it came. Whispers of doubt and fear. A burning sensation on his skin. It was too bright, searing right through him. But Jim didn’t stop. He climbed onto the rock and took hold of the sword’s hilt. 

 “You good, Lake?” Steve asked, noticing how hard Jim was breathing.

 “I-I’m fine. I can do this. I can…” He was trembling. His teeth chattered and he swallowed hard, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate. When Jim looked again, the brightness was painful. His knees wobbled. The green gems were starting to glare. “N-No…No, I—”

 A hand touched the rock, then several more, circling Jim’s feet and Excalibur’s hidden blade. Jim looked around to see all of his friends smiling back at him.

 “We’ve got you,” Aja said.

 “Together, mate!” Douxie said.

 “We believe you can pull it off!” Charlemagne laughed.

 The dream and all its empowerment beamed through Jim’s mind, filled his heart. So he clung to it as he refastened his grip on the sword and started pulling.

 Take hold.

 Jim furrowed his brows at a voice he didn’t quite recognize, yet it was giving him strength all the same. Excalibur wiggled.

 Remain and become. Become and talk hold. Take hold and become.

 Jim caught a hint of his reflection in the shining handle, and he recalled the pond, the troll in the water. Gasps and laughter sounded around as the mighty blade slid free inch by inch. Heat radiated in Jim’s torso, deep in his gut and chest. Excalibur’s surface flashed bright and everyone shielded their eyes as a beam of light shot towards the ceiling. A clap of thunder boomed, so boisterous the entire castle seemed to shudder. 

 Become.

 Jim unsheathed Excalibur with a shout, raising its blade to the heavens. He was shrouded in blinding light and his body overflowed with blazing energy. It was power unlike any he’d ever felt. 

 Become.

 Zipping down the halls of Camelot, rocketing into the foyer, came Jim’s reforged Amulet of Daylight. Toby ducked his head as it found its place over Jim’s heart, its gears spinning wildly as his brilliant armor clicked into place.

 In darkness. In daylight. Become!

 One more blast of light, and then the brightness finally dimmed. Everyone gradually lowered their arms away from their faces.

 “Oh my gosh,” Claire gasped, her eyes blown wide.

 “No way…,” Toby breathed.

 “Master Jim!” Blinky uttered. “You’re…!”

 Wild hair. Blue skin. Horns and fangs. Taller. Standing upon the rock, wielding Excalibur, was an armor-clad Jim in his troll form. Jim stared back at them, trying to catch his breath. He held Excalibur in front of his troll face, inhaling sharply at his transformed mirror image.

 “How?” Douxie whispered.

 Claire shook her head, her worry rising. “No…Jim—”

 “It’s okay.” Jim gazed at her, then back into the sword. He watched the troll blink as he did, breathe as he did. There was a twinge of horror pricking him. The fear was still there, brushing the back of his mind. But as Jim looked at his friends, their faces weren’t twisted in disgust. No one was running for the hills in terror. He looked at his mom, her undeniable love for him still intact. Despite the anxiety, Jim felt it. He knew. “I’m still me.”

 His body tingled. In a golden puff of light, he was human again, his armor shrinking with him.

 Toby nearly fell backwards. “W-Whoa!”

 “Great Gaylon!” Krel said. “How did you do that?”

 Jim went for it again. He closed his eyes, focusing on this new energy teeming in his veins. Another puff, and he was a troll again.

 “Impossible…,” Walter said. “Young Atlas, you’re…a changeling!”

 Jim stepped off the rock and reverted back to a human. He positioned Excalibur over his back, the sword fitting itself against his armor like a magnet. 

 “I-I…I guess so.” He looked at Douxie. “Could I always do that?”

 “I’m afraid I’m just as perplexed,” Douxie said. He breathed a laugh. “Magic never ceases to amaze me.”

 Charlemagne gave Jim a sniff. “Very curious. Even this old dragon’s never seen anything like this.”

 “I have not either,” Nari said. “Changelings have only been Morgana’s work.” She came closer, searching Jim’s eyes. “How do you feel?”

 Jim contemplated, wondered how in the world he’d even begin to comprehend this. But as his eyes roamed over each of his friends’ faces, it made more and more sense.

 “Obviously some kind of magic is at play here,” he said. “But…I think I can do this because of you guys. I felt so useless and I couldn’t stop hating myself. I felt like a monster. I felt so…broken.” Jim’s heart welled. “Claire. Tobes. Blink, Aaarrrgghh, Walter, M-Mom. You guys didn’t give up on me. You took care of me. And all of you guys. Doux, Aja, Krel…I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.” His voice quivered. “Whatever magic this is, I think it’s because of you guys. It’s because I have such awesome friends. I love you guys.” The tears started spilling down Jim’s cheeks. “I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. Thanks for being here for me.”

 He was wrapped in hugs from all sides.

 “Oh sweetie,” was all Barbara could say through her sobs. She kissed Jim’s forehead. “You haven’t been any trouble.”

 “I love you, Mom.” Jim sniffled into her shirt.

 “I love you so much, honey. I’m so proud of you. I’ve never not been proud of you.”

 “We’ll always be here for you, Jimbo,” Toby blubbered.

 “We love you,” Claire said.

 They all stepped back as Blinky came to grab Jim’s shoulders, all six of his eyes glowing. 

 “How you’ve become, Master Jim,” Blinky said. “Just as you have time and time again.” Jim rushed into his four arms. “Excalibur’s worthiest master.” 

 “Ugh…!” Claire clutched her chest and dropped to her knees. Jim and Douxie rushed to her side. “T-The feeling…! I-It’s getting worse…!”

 Jim looked at Douxie. “They’re close.”

 “Seems that way.” Douxie grabbed Claire’s arm. “You’re alright, lass. Deep breath, that’s it.” He closed his eyes, his bracelet lighting as he murmured a chant. Nari set her hands on Claire’s back and joined him. After a minute, the tension in Claire’s body loosened. “Better?”

 “A little bit. Thanks guys,” Claire said as Jim helped her up.

 “The hour is upon us,” Charlemagne said. “We best get to formulating.”

 “Right. Let’s all meet at the Round Table,” Douxie said. While everyone processed to the Hall, Douxie spotted Zoe and Krel heading elsewhere. “Where are you going?”

 Zoe and Krel looked at each other.

 “We need to grab something from the study to show everyone,” Zoe said. She took his hand. “It’s pretty important.”

 Douxie raised a brow, but didn’t question it. He gave her hand a squeeze. “Alright, love. See you in a bit.”

 Zoe blushed. “Right back at you…love.”

 Douxie smiled and kissed her knuckles, ignoring Krel’s deepset grimace.

 “Ai yi yi….”

 Aja was addressing the group when Douxie joined them. “All of my troops will be here in less than one horvath. We will have an entire planet of soldiers. Izita and Eli will command our aerial fighters. Varvatos and Zadra will lead our troops on the ground.”

 “Harmonia and the Quagawump trolls are with us,” Jim said. “Other than them, we’re not too sure. But it definitely ups our numbers. And these guys can dish it out and take it no problem. Doux?” 

 Douxie winced. “Zoe’s got plenty of magic-doers on our side. If I have convinced anyone, most of them might be after my neck as well, haha…Um, Nari! What’s your game plan?”

 “I will do my best to keep my siblings away from the Heartstone,” Nari said. “When they arrive, I will behave as though I am still under their spell. It will give me a chance to strike them first.” 

 “A surprise attack. Nice,” Jim said. 

 “Douxie, when I give my signal I will need you, Zoe, and Claire to join me,” Nari said. “Then we will perform the spell I taught you on them.”

 “But…I thought you said we didn’t need the spell to beat them,” Claire said.

 “We do not need the spell to kill them. But I do not want to kill them. The spell will only remove their physical forms—” 

 “You don’t want to kill them?” Walter snarled, slamming his fist on the table. His pupils were black slits. “After everything they’ve done, everything they’ve taken, you still want to play your little mercy game, nymph?”

 “Walter…!” Barbara pleaded.

 Nari looked upset. “No, no it is not a game. That is not at all what I—”   

 “You said it yourself. So many lives have been lost because you didn’t deal with the Order sooner. And here we thought you’d come to your senses—”

 “Hey!” Douxie stood behind Nari and glared Walter down across the room. “I think you’ve said enough, mate.”

 “Nomura would’ve said the same thing,” Walter hissed. Grief mingled with the rage in his eyes. He hung and shook his head. “I…I apologize, Nari. But they need to pay for what they’ve done.”

 “That doesn’t mean we have to take their lives,” Douxie said.

 “So then what? We let them have another chance at fulfilling the apocalypse?”

 “We shouldn’t let hate be our motivation, Walt,” Jim said.

 “Hatred has nothing to do with wanting to save the world, Young Atlas.”

 “Varvatos Vex is leaning more towards the winged green one’s reasoning,” Varvatos said.  

 “No surprises there,” Toby muttered.

 “Whether or not the Order dies, we’ll need to find an opening first,” Aja said. “These are ancient, powerful, and skilled fighters. We have to make them vulnerable, and that won’t be easy.”

 “I think we have a solution for that.” Zoe and Krel stood in the entrance way. In Krel’s hands was an Akiridion coded shotgun with a long, bell-shaped barrel. He placed it carefully on the Table.

 “That’s pretty brutal, dudes,” Steve said.

 “Not that kind of firearm, Steve,” Krel said. “Zoe and I have been working on something for the past couple of delsons.”

 “We didn’t want to say anything and get everyone’s hopes up, in case we couldn’t make it work,” Zoe said. “But I think we’ve done it.”

 She nodded at Krel. In his palm was a chip the size of a strip of gum. Krel glided his finger over it, activating the holographic blueprint of what looked to be a net, dots connected across its webbing like constellations. Upon further inspection, Douxie realized the lines and points created magic runes. Powerful ones.

 “Now what’s this all about?” Charlemagne asked.

 “The arcane nets. We built two of them,” Krel said. “One for Bellroc, one for Skrael. I’ve loaded them both into this net gun.” He held up two fingers. “Two shots. If we can trap them in these nets, their magic will be completely nullified.”

 “Come again?” Douxie said, sharing everyone’s bewilderment. “How’s that even possible?”

 “Well we were starting to think it wasn’t,” Zoe said. “Even though magic and Akiridion tech are compatible, the nets weren’t working. But…I had a friend of mine send me some of these.” She held up a bundle of cloth, pulling back layers to reveal a colorless transparent stone, smooth as marble with spinning threads of monochrome within. Bits of it had been chipped off.

 “What is that?” Eli asked.

 “A sealing stone!” Douxie met Zoe’s gaze. “So...you think these arcane nets will work now?”

 “They should,” Zoe said.

 “Should? Meaning you didn’t test them again?” Jim asked.

 “We didn’t want to risk it,” Krel said, glancing at Zoe. “I was able to replicate your original Amulet’s power. Our theory is that incorporating these stone fragments into the arcane nets will yield similar results. If that’s the case…Zoe would lose her magic abilities for one horvath. Maybe longer, depending on how the technology and magic have configurated. Which would not be good.” 

 Douxie sighed. “No arguments there.” 

 “I really do think we have something here,” Zoe said. “But regardless, we have to try. Removing the Order’s magic is our best shot.”

 “Literally,” Toby said.

 “Then let’s go for it,” Jim said. 

 Krel nodded. “Leave it to me.”

 “We’ll turn those Arcane Butt-klebs into magicless burritos!” Aja declared, punching her two left palms.

 Steve hooked her waist with his arm. “Right on, Queen babe!”

 “When that happens,” Walter glowered at Nari, “what will you do?”

 She met his gaze, pain and conflict within her own. “I am sorry. For all of this. I promise I will do everything in my power to stop them. But I will say again. I do not want to kill my siblings.” 

 More anger darkened Walter’s face. 

 “The Order won’t win, Walt,” Barbara said. She moved in front of him and touched his arm. “Isn’t that all that matters?”

 “No,” he said softly. “It isn’t.”

 “I know what it’s like to lose the ones I love,” Krel said. He shared a sad glance with Aja. “It’s unbearable. I was so angry. I almost did something I would regret.” He looked at a repentant Varvatos. “I miss my parents every delson. But vengeance isn’t the answer.”

 “I miss Nomura like crazy. We all do,” Claire said, blinking back tears. “But Nari still cares about them. And…I care about what she wants.” She smiled in Nari’s direction. “No matter what, she’ll do the right thing.”

 “We can still do right by Nomura, by everyone, without letting our anger control us,” Jim said.

 Uneasy silence fell over the Hall as Walter continued to pin Nari down with his stare. Several long seconds passed before he folded his arm and looked off to the side, having nothing else to say.  

 Douxie cleared his throat. “Right. That’s our plan then. Nari will handle the Fire and Ice Titans. Aja and Krel will focus on securing the arcane nets around Bellroc and Skrael. The rest of us will deal with whatever monstrosities emerge and wait for Nari’s signal. But take blows at the Titans whenever you can. We have to keep them away from the Heartstone or it’s game over.” His eyes swept over all their faces and his chest tightened. “Stay alive.”

 The rest was unspoken.

 Jim put his hand out. Claire and Toby joined him, then Aja and Krel, then Douxie and Zoe, Steve and Eli. Archie leaned in off Douxie’s shoulder, extending a wing towards the pile. Nari beamed and went up on the balls of her feet to reach. Barbara and Walter stood behind Jim with arms outstretched. The Blanks tried to squeeze in wherever they could, Luug wiggling in Lucy’s hold. Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, Varvatos, and Charlemagne formed a protective outer circle. The Guardians of Arcadia regarded one another. United in their resolve, and moved in their hearts by the friendships they’d made. 

 This family they’d become.

 ◇

 Jim looked at himself in the window. His mom had boarded the last evacuation ship with the rest of Arcadia Oaks. But not before showing him a light blue diamond ring on her left hand. 

 “That’s awesome, Mom,” Jim had said, hugging her close. “I’m happy for you guys.”

 “Thanks, sweetie.” Barbara took her son’s face in her hands and just looked at him. “I want to say ‘Don’t be a hero.’ But I know that nothing can stop you. You’ve always been a hero. My hero. It’s just who you are.”

 “You were my hero first, Mom.” Jim sniffled. “I uh…I think NotEnrique would make a perfect flower girl.”

 Barbara laughed and hugged him. “All your friends are invited.”

 All Jim could do was hold her tight and let his tears fall.

 Now as he watched a deep crimson hue bleed across the black sky, Jim’s fears were tamed. He closed his eyes, feeling the fit of his armor and the weight of Excalibur on his back. His body burned, but it didn’t hurt.  

 Don’t think. Become.

 Jim opened his eyes to his troll self in the glass.

 “Many of you fought alongside my mother and father,” Aja said. She was broadcasted on every screen of the Akiridion fleets headed for Earth, her people listening intently. “Thank you for fighting by my side now, for this little mudball planet your King In Waiting and I have come to love. But this isn’t just a battle for Earth. This is a war for the universe itself. House Tarron and Akiridion-5 will always fight for what’s right!” 

 In the Hall of The Round Table, Krel ran his fingers over the net gun. He’d never been much of a warrior. At least, that’s what he’d come to believe. Maybe he couldn’t lead an army, or skillfully wield a serrator with three hands behind his back like his father could. Instead his greatest declarations, his statements in the face of adversity, had always been what he built with his mind and hands. It was how he protected what mattered most.

 Krel strapped the net gun to his back. 

 Maybe the core of who he was was enough.

 [It’s okay to be afraid. I’m quite terrified myself, if I’m being honest. I may be a Master Wizard now, but I’m the furthest thing from invincible.] 

 Douxie stilled his thumbs on his phone, thinking. He took a breath and kept typing.

 [Merlin used to tell me a wizard never makes mistakes. So I want to relay that to you, fellow magicians. And it doesn’t matter if we’re on top of the world or at the darkest, lowest points within ourselves. Unexpected possibilities await us. Isn’t it astounding, what a little bit of magic can do?]

 [I have my doubts. But it won’t stop me from trying. It won’t stop me from fighting for what’s right. I hope any fears you have won’t stop you either. Take heart. Be courageous. Stay true. Then nothing will be impossible. Not even today.]

 He sent it to the massive text group he’d compiled. 

 “That’s a good little speech,” Zoe said, peeking at the screen to skim.

 “Encouragement goes a long way,” Douxie said, pocketing his phone. “The current situation is a wee bit stressful.” 

 “Just another doomsday.” Zoe faced him as he took her hands. Douxie kissed her and warmth fluttered through her.

 “I can’t believe I can do that whenever I want to now,” Douxie said, grinning against her lips. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

 Zoe narrowed her eyes. “I think you’re really hot.”

 She had no idea a person’s face could go that red that fast. Douxie was rendered a flushed, sputtering statue of a man. Zoe snickered into her fist.

 “Do you…you really think…so?” Douxie murmured, barely above a whisper. The answer was yes but Zoe just kept laughing.

 Nari had mounted her Titan and moved deeper into the forest until Camelot was in the far distance. She watched the red stained darkness, scanning way beyond the town’s borders for further sign of her siblings. It came in the form of a screeching roar piercing through the thunder, and a thin layer of frost draping across the woodland. The Forest Titan reared its head towards the sound, lifted its front legs away from the cold. Nari faced the clouds as the Fire Titan descended from their depths, streams of red fire turning sheets of rain to mist. The landscape ruptured as giant icicles exploded from the horizon and rapidly overtook the forest. The Ice Titan smashed through an icy wall, stomping its way closer.

 The Forest Titan inched forward to meet its siblings. Nari steeled herself, hid her emotions away as Bellroc circled above before landing beside her, the earth trembling under the Fire Titan’s mass. Her eyes fell upon Skrael, and she had to grind her teeth to halt any outward reaction. His left arm had been severed. In its place was a new appendage of black ice, markings of fiery red and frosty blue wrapping the limb like tattered bandages. It remained stiff and unmoving at his side. Skrael’s eyes glinted with cold, lethal hatred. Nari had never seen him so angered.

 “How sentimental of you to wait for us, Nari.” Bellroc’s low reverberating voice grated Nari’s ears. “Would you look at what your disgusting ‘friends’ did to our brother. They deserve the agony we’re about to inflict, don’t you agree?”

 “Enough waiting!” Skrael spat. “I’ll kill them all. I want to watch them all writhe like worms and suffer! Nari!”

 Nari swallowed. She willed her Titan to stand by Skrael’s side. A sickening grin stretched across Bellroc’s face. The three Titans advanced towards the Heartstone’s light, ice and lava trailing behind. As they entered the town and neared the Heartstone, they were met with the Guardians of Arcadia already there, standing guard upon surrounding rooftops. 

 Douxie magicked up a megaphone. “You can stop right there, you elemental goliaths!”

 “So you survived,” Bellroc hissed, “only to prolong your death.”

 “We won’t let you do this,” Douxie said. His gaze flicked to Nari. “You’ve taken far too much, not only from us, but from the world you convinced yourselves you were protecting. When in reality, you’re nothing but heartless killers. You may have taken our friends. You may have taken Nari. But your campaign of terror ends today!”

 Jim drew Excalibur. Claire’s palms filled with shadows. Toby twirled his hammer, Aaarrrgghh slamming tiles with his fists. Blinky was manning one of the mech suits, having loaded its cannons with dwarkstones. Walter leapt into the air and drew two knives.

 The Creepslayerz struck their poses, Steve brandishing Toothache and Eli locking on with his serrator gun. Aja and Krel each had their own hoverboards now. Aja configured her serrator into a laser and took aim, Varvatos following suit. The Blanks smiled wide and flashed their cannons and torches. Luug growled with all four mandibles curled. 

 Charlemagne soared above and roared a battle cry. Pink electricity whipped between Zoe’s fingers. Smoke billowed from Archie’s jaws. Douxie poofed away the megaphone to replace it with his staff.

 “Nari was never yours,” Skrael snarled. With a swing of his staff, the Ice Titan summoned an enormous shroud of cold mist. From the haze came a countless host of frospecters.

 “You have our thanks for the entertainment,” Bellroc said. The Fire Titan belched a river of lava. Salamanders the size of crocodiles with igneous scales and feral six eyed hellhounds emerged from the infernal current by the thousands. 

 The Forest Titan bashed the ground with its front legs, hoards of carnifloras spewing forth from the earth. Gigantic venus flytraps, some with more than one head. Trees with multiple mouths crammed with razor teeth. Plants of every variety, sharp and pointy and drooling. A bloodthirsty jungle.

 “You really think you can stand against us?” Bellroc shouted with a crazed smile, their firestorm eyes flaring. 

 Aja brought her hoverboard higher and yelled, “Actually, we do!”

 On command, the entirety of the Akiridion fleets parted the black clouds, filling and illuminating the sky electric blue. Three hundred foot combat robots dropped from hatches, crushing buildings as they struck their landings. Hundreds of battle pods zipped alongside ships. One pod dove low. Izita opened the hatch for Zadra to leap out. She freefalled then flipped to land next to Varvatos, her double sided scythe drawn, not a single sweat broken. At that moment, Stuart’s taco truck came weaving down the road with its horn blaring.

 “Hello there, your Majesties!” the putrid green alien hollered out his window. “Lovely weather for a brawl!”

 Bellroc and Skrael glowered as more reinforcements came pouring into Arcadia Oaks from all sides. 

 Clans of trolls came rolling in. Quagawumps, flocks of Stalkings, the Geowarts with their gemstone blemishes, Gobble’s Grotto trolls, the diamond horned Diamarket trolls. Trolls with tiger stripes and polka dots, mohawks and walrus tusks, long necks and long limbs, blind trolls, deaf trolls. Trolls from far and wide. The Krubera came marching, wielding swords and spears. Gnome Chompsky rode in on NotEnrique’s back, hoards of gnomes flanking them.

 “Just in time for the party!” NotEnrique said. He waved at Claire. “Good ta see ya, sis!” 

 Chompsky cackled his gibberish, raising a tiny knife. Excited garble rose from his fellow gnomes.

 Luma strode forward with all of Harmonia. And, to everyone’s surprise, the Moonglow Hollow tribe had joined them.

 “Eeeek!” Alabaster squealed, his spear shaking in his hands. His trolls mirrored his fright. “B-B-Big scary— I want t-to go home, I want to go hooome!”

 “And you shall,” Luma said, drawing her dagger. 

 Last to arrive were armies of spell-casters hailing from all across the globe. Village healers and street performers. Shamans and psychics, alchemists and summoners, warrior mages and potioneers. The technomancers of Hex Tech. Vigilante warlocks and enchantresses. Even a few other shadowmancers. Wizards and witches who’d answered the call poofed, manifested, teleported, levitated into place alongside the heroes, magic at the ready. 

 Douxie jumped when an old stone-faced sorcerer glared his way. “C-Clancy Pendragon! Glad you could make it, old pal! Your turnips doing well?”

 “I’m not your pal, Casperan” he grumbled.

 “Hope that’s a yes…,” Douxie murmured.

 The Arcane Order seethed and summoned even more monstrosities. Volcanic behemoths and skeletal frostbitten wolves the size of horses.

 Cords of lightning lacerated the slate heavens. Thunder vibrated the atmosphere. The rainfall was cool and humid, relentless as both armies held in charged anticipation.

 Bellroc sneered. “How shameful. Our fellow creatures of magic, you’ve all condemned yourselves with the mortal vermin.” They raised their staff. “Come, my siblings. Let us slaughter them all and torture their spirits as we reclaim this world!” Their eyes fixated on the Heartstone. “Yes, this wretched world and the stars beyond…Mine…It shall all be m—”

 The Forest Titan rammed its sharpened antlers into the Fire Titan’s side, while its hind legs brutally smashed into the Ice Titan. Below, every single carniflora suddenly turned on the beasts of flame and frost, strangling and swallowing whole.

 Warrior shouts erupted, rivaling the thunderclaps.

 “For glory and Eternity!” Luma cried.

 “For Nomura!” Walter snarled. 

 “For the good of all!” Jim roared. His friends echoed him.

 The Guardians of Arcadia and their allies surged forward.

~

Previous Chapter

Author’s Notes : I’m so tired lol

Those of you who made it to the end of this insane chapter, thank you so much reading. Changeling!Jim wielding Excalibur has finally entered the ring >:D Also ZOUXIE!!!!!! >w<

Someone asked me who exactly the Great Eternity is. The best way I can explain it is by comparing him to the Arcane Order. Whereas the Arcane Order were the one pulling the strings throughout the series, I wanted Elyolam to be that but for the good guys. Hopefully it’ll make more sense by the end!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Bless and thank you again for reading and for all your comments. I’m determined to have this fic completed by July 21st. In the meantime, onward to the final battle!

#rika tries to write #the eternal day : tales of arcadia #jim lake jr #claire nunez #toby domzalski #toa blinky #toa aaarrrgghh #jlaire #steve palchuk #eli pepperjack #aja tarron #krel tarron #staja #varvatos vex #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #zoe ashildr #toa zoe #ZOUXIE #toa archie #toa nari #nari of the eternal forest #toa bellroc #toa skrael #elyolam the great eternity #my oc(s) #tales of arcadia #trollhunters rise of the titans #rise of the titans #rott rewrite

[avyukta01]

An Interior Designing Starting Guide- Avyukta Handbook

Some common questions we all have while working on a project. Avyukta is here to help you with answers for them.

What is the best color scheme for a small living room?

Light and neutral colors, such as whites, pastels, and soft grays, can help create a sense of openness and make the room appear larger. Avoid using dark or bold colors as they can make the space feel more cramped.

How to create a cohesive and balanced look in a bedroom?

Choose a consistent color palette and stick to it throughout the room. Use complementary patterns and textures to add visual interest without overwhelming the space. Make sure furniture and accessories are appropriately scaled and balanced in the room.

What are some tips for maximizing storage in a small kitchen?

Utilize vertical space by installing wall-mounted shelves or cabinets. Use organizers and dividers in drawers and cabinets to maximize storage efficiency. Consider utilizing the space above cabinets or using hanging racks for pots and pans.

How do to choose the right lighting fixtures for different rooms?

Consider the purpose of the room and the desired ambiance. For task lighting, such as in kitchens or home offices, opt for brighter, focused lighting. For ambient or mood lighting, choose fixtures that provide a softer, diffused glow. Combine different types of lighting, such as overhead lights, floor lamps, and table lamps, to create layers of light in a room.

What are the latest trends in bathroom design?

Some popular bathroom design trends include using natural materials like stone and wood, incorporating smart features like digital showers and touchless faucets, embracing bold and vibrant wallpaper or tile patterns, and creating spa-like atmospheres with features like freestanding bathtubs and rainfall showerheads.

How can one make home offices more functional and aesthetically pleasing?

Choose a comfortable and ergonomic desk chair and set up proper lighting for task-oriented work. Declutter the space and invest in storage solutions like shelves or file cabinets. Add personal touches and decor that inspire productivity and reflect your style.

What are some creative ways to incorporate artwork into home decor?

Create a gallery wall with a mix of framed artwork, photographs, and other decorative pieces. Use floating shelves or picture ledges to display artwork. Consider using oversized or statement pieces as focal points in a room. Experiment with different arrangements and heights to create visual interest.

How to create a welcoming and inviting entryway?

Ensure proper lighting to create a warm and inviting atmosphere. Incorporate a focal point such as an artwork, mirror, or decorative piece. Add functional elements like a console table or bench for storage and a place to sit. Use a rug or runner to define the space and add texture.

What are the key elements to consider when designing an open floor plan?

Establish zones or areas within the open space using furniture placement, rugs, or different flooring materials. Ensure visual harmony and consistency in color palette and style throughout the space. Consider using furniture with open or low profiles to maintain a sense of openness.

How to choose the right furniture and accessories to fit one's style and space?

Start by determining your desired style, whether it's modern, traditional, minimalist, or eclectic. Measure your space and consider the scale and proportion of furniture to ensure it fits properly. Choose furniture and accessories that complement the overall aesthetic and color scheme of the room. Don't forget to consider functionality and your specific needs.

We hope these answers help you with your interior design endeavors! Visit avyukta.com for further help and to find the perfect fittings for all your visions.

#interiordesign #interiors #homedecor #moderndesign #luxuryinteriors #decoration #designidea #livingspace #workspacedesign #furnituredesign #WallArt #MinimalistDesign #BohemianStyle #ScandinavianDesign #EclecticDecor #KitchenDesign #BathroomInspo #BedroomDecor #InteriorStyling #HomeInteriors #InteriorArchitecture #HomeRenovation #ModernDesign #ContemporaryInteriors #ColorPalette #designartist

[diademreigned]

[ TAKE ]  for the taller muse to find the shorter one has ‘borrowed’ a shirt/sweater/jacket etc.  which is oversized on them.  -Tall and SMOL prompts Stella to G’raha

The halls had been quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace passed the stairway that rounded up toward where the bedrooms of the Inn had been scattered. The burning of the lanterns mounted on the walls. The bellowing of the rainfall through the windows, but all that could be seen was the smacking of droplets about the glass.

It didn't disturb the scholar one bit, leaning over the table as he flipped through the centuries old tomes that had since collected dust on old shelves, now seeing the light of day; clean and loved. Red eyes flicking through line after line after line, focused and attentive.

She should be down pretty soon, he had to remind himself, reaching forward to tear the tome from the furniture and into his hands, caressing it with care and delicacy.

"Interesting. . ." G'raha whispered, holding one of the pages to finish reading and then turning it. "Seemed unlikely and yet. . ."

Something caught his attention and his ears pricked, turning his head up toward the stairs that rotated higher and higher. Ears lifted in the air found itself forcing a large smile to press up through the cheeks when he noticed who was coming downstairs. Blessed with the warmth of a robe around her person, the scholar took note that his precious Au Ra had finally finished whatever she had been doing. Not to say it took a bit, his patience had never once worn thin for her.

"Aaah, my lady," he beamed, shutting the book and setting it upon the table once more. "I've been awaiting you." G'raha pushed himself off the table and moved toward her. "Seems we must always occupy each other in the later hours, no? I am most honored."

Reaching forward, when she lifted it, G'raha pressed a kiss to the fingers he held like they'd been shaped in porcelain. He could hear her chuckle softly as a reaction, ears flicking to catch the sound, fearful he'd forget it.

"Is it not too humid? Surely you've not caught sick from your mission earlier," his expression turned to worried and concerned, until he watched her hands move elsewhere. Curiosity burned in his pupils, trying to remain gazing at her face as her fingers moved to discard the robe.

Something about what she'd chosen for the remainder of the night drew some familiarity to the Miqo'te. It wasn't at the right away, but with a head tilt . . . he began to support his internal theory.

"Is that - are . . . By the gods, you're wearing my shirt!" His ears shot up like rockets, twitching with excitement and jubilee when she practically wore it like a pajama shirt. She displayed herself as a goddess amongst the Twelve and here she was wearing his shirt of all things!

G'raha was not complaining of course, it was the initial realization that ultimately had stunned him, before his own rubies collected a dash of sunlight to brighten his expression.

"I confess I had no idea you would - that is . . . How did you come to acquire - That is a rather ignorant question, is it not?" He pushed a fist to his chin in contemplation before he couldn't help but find himself grinning from ear to ear and becoming giddy.

She looked rather dashing in it didn't she? Even if it were just a shirt. Reaching forward, G'raha cupped Stella's face between his hands, bringing her toward his own.

"You are brimming with a beauty none shall surpass. 'Tis rather foolish of me to say such when you're wearing something as simple as my own garments. I daresay you - . . . You truly - My inspiration!" He pulled away, feeling his cheeks starting to burn when Stella had sooner rather than later pushed out a laugh. "I hadn't an inkling of the differences between our heights. It fits you so horridly but only in size alone. I cannot fathom - !"

G'raha held the Au Ra's hands in his own, pulling her across the lit candles around the room until he got to the table. "I would say that tomes can wait and yet - I cannot in good faith seek out another for company that has much been too fine." Their foreheads touched, candle lights waved in the wind, and his heart had accelerated.

Be still . . . you are quite obvious.

#G’RAHA TIA // ♦︎ — › asks. #:: oathofpromises :: #STELLA CAELUM * relations // ♦︎ ꜱᴏɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ — › oathofpromises. #:: queue :: #the way he's just fan girling because he caught her wearing his shirt #HE'S SUCH A DORK I LOVE HIM

[tepidjasminetea]

Chapter 1 of a novel i might write

Lyanna woke to see the fog crawling over the barren winter heath. To the north, the vast withered land stretched on for eternity until it reached the foot of a mountain and submit to their stoney facades and sharp edges. The sun had not fully risen from the soft bed of night, but it was stretching slowly over the tip of mountain to shower the land with shimmering warmth. She pulled the sheepskin closer around her body and tucked her frizzled golden locks behind her ear. Turning her head to the south she could see the Walls of Ardis, the limestone walls were the height of a ten thousand men stand atop one another, encircled by a man-made moat that ran three-hundred meters deep and with archer towers scaling the sky every 100 meters, it was impossible to scale. To attack was to commit yourself to a long and ardous siege, to waste away outside as lords and nobles feasted in the lofty castle with half-a-decade worth of provisions stacked in the cellars. The Ardis had only fallen once before when the Gate Master went rogue during the Revolution of 1512. She remembered that clearly, how her grandmother shook her awake hurriedly in the middle of the night, handed her off to a nameless knight that died a week later without so much as a word of goodbye. She wasn’t actually there when the city fell, but in her dreams she could see the silver pillars of the palace crumbling to dust. 

The bittersweet taste of jasmine tea swirled in her mouth as she gathered her belongings and covered her tracks. Lyanna was heading south towards Ardis. There would be a lone traveler clad in iron and a red cloak that boasts the Linari flag, he would be returning from the Battle of Skellegg that happened three weeks ago. His entire battalion was decimated during the fight, there was no one left in the military that knew Gavin Ferndrost. A prisoner of war returning to his home country, weak, mutilated, underfed. Most importantly, easy to kill. 

From the distance she saw her canaries returning from the south, stretching out her hands, she called out, “What news do you bring me?”

You must make haste, dear princess, Kori chirped, pack up your things and get on your horse. He has not awaken yet, but he will be soon. 

You exaggerate, he is still in bed with his whore, Mori interjected. I believe he will wake at noon, the earliest. He spent much of his silver on wine last night. 

“Is he with the beautiful one with the green eyes?” 

Yes. 

Lyanna strapped her bag to her brown thoroughbred and mounted the mare, “the poor beautiful girl, she’ll be waking up next to a corpse.” 

The wind swept landscape was welcoming and easy on the eye as her mare galloped through the heath made soft from last night’s rainfall. The occasional tree graced the horizon like a watchful guardian that provided shelter, warmth, and a landmark for travellers. As she found herself increasingly southward, the grass became taller and denser, they danced in the wind like a tribe receiving their chieftain back from a bloody war. The wilderness gave way to paved gravel roads and soon she began seeing snap bean farms dotting the scene. 

She reached her destination as the sun finally peaked its head over the mountains and stretched it’s sleepy form over the sky. From her shadow she saw that it was nearly noon. 

See, I told you to be quick, Kori gloated. 

Mori ignored her stinging jab, he’s on the third floor, you will have to climb, princess. 

Lyanna made her way around to the back of inn and found her way onto the roof from the seemingly forgotten garden in the back, a monstrously large oak tree reigned supreme over the weeds and stinging nettles. Gripping the thick branches of the tree, Lyanna climbed up to the third floor, her cape was caught among the branches as she jumped from the tree to a wooden ledge. A piece of mud covered fabric hung in the wind. 

Peering through the window Lyanna could see the solider’s injured body tangled with the porceline white limbs of the whore. Both were still asleep and their chests rising and falling peacefully. The man was younger than she expected, his sleeping face was a picture of youth, not a single wrinkle or worry line. Freckled cheeks and a long scar running from his collarbone to his chin. Around his neck laid a bronze medallion, a lotus encircled with words that Lyanna could not read from this distance. It must have been a memento, she wondered who gave it to him, was it a friend? A mother or a father? Perhaps even a lover. Whoever it was, it meant that someone, somewhere, dead or alive, was waiting for his return. His hair was short and dirty, covered with dirt and other grim he picked up during his travel. His arms were ropey with muscle, while she could see his ribcage poking out from his skin. Sores of all different shapes and sizes dotted his body like dandelions in spring, his left thigh was wrapped in bandages that looked fresh but blood was already soaking through, staining the bedsheets below him. 

The sight of a couple sleeping so serenely was stinging to her chest, it reminded her of Naruse and his equally freckled face. 

Silently and swiftly Lyanna vaulted over the window sill and made her way over to the bed, delicately she pulled out a small sewing needle wrapped in linen. The needle had been submerged in pufferfish blood while being forged to cool down the steel. In Roliah needles like these were called ‘Pufferfish’s kiss’ and were used to hunt boars and other large beasts. 

“Sleep gently fallen soldier, and walk peacefully through the shadowlands. Today is the day all your sorrows end, today is the day you leave your sword behind.” She whispered gently to herself as she slide the needle slowly into his left chest. 

He shall sleep peacefully but you never will again. Naruse’s voice passed through her like a ghost, leaving her cold and shivering. Like a scene from her dream, Naruse’s face was crumbling with pain, choking and grabbing at his chest. 

Lyanna gasped and stepped back from Naruse. He was reaching out to her, his black hair matted across his forehead in sweat, his blue kaftan wet with blood. All she could say was, “sorry.” 

Princess! You woke them! Kori’s voice rang her back to reality. 

Her hand was sticky with red hot blood, and she was shivering. Her limbs trembling as if she just scaled the walls of the Ardis. It wasn’t Naruse that was dying, it was the Naruse-like boy. The needle had gone in wrong, it had gone into his arteries. Lyanna watched as his grey eyes seeped with fear and confusion slowly dull as the pretty girl shook his shoulders. His expression was similar to Naruse’s. All men die in fear, so it seems. But what kind of expression did Naruse make? Did he look like that? She had thought initially that they looked similar but now searching her memory she could not conjure the picture of his face as he died. He didn’t have grey eyes, that is for sure. 

It was the whore’s scream that move her again, in one swift motion she unsheathed her dagger and lunged forward at her. She screamed as she fell off the bed and tripped over the sheets trying to reach the door. She screamed as Lyanna grabbed her legs to hold her still. She screamed as Lyanna begged her to be quiet, she continued to scream until she was dead, until the only thing pouring out from her mouth was blood. 

#fiction #writing #fantasy #give me feedback #women writers

[the-home-maintenance-genie]

"Breathe Easy, Let Gutter Cleaning Indy Handle the Cleaning!"

Maintaining your rain gutters clean is a vital part of your home upkeep. Gutter cleaning can be done both by doing it yourself or by working with a professional. If you decide to do it on your own, you need to know a few of the steps that you can take to get rid of the gunk that gathers in your rain gutters.

Rain Gutter Cleaning Price Having your rain gutters cleaned on a regular basis is a fundamental part of protecting against water damages and also structural damage to your house. When it concerns gutter cleaning, costs differ widely, depending on your home's dimension, condition, and other elements. Luckily, you can get a better concept of exactly how much your gutter cleaning will certainly set you back by comparing rates. The national average cost for gutter cleaning varies from $125 to $175. Some companies provide price cuts as much as 20% for repeat customers. They might additionally bill extra for downspout cleaning, repair work, or various other services. Prices vary substantially, specifically by state and region. Some rain gutter cleaning business charge a lot more for gutters that are high or high-pitch. They might likewise bill additional for houses that are removed, or have complicated roofing lines. The quantity of time it takes to clean a rain gutter additionally impacts the price. Some professionals estimate prices by the square footage of the residence, while others utilize the length of the rain gutters.

DO IT YOURSELF - Removing Gunk Getting rid of gunk when gutter cleaning is a job that can be both messy and hazardous. It can likewise be a task that needs correct equipment as well as protective equipment. You ought to additionally know that this is a location that can draw in unwanted pets and pests. Maintaining your gutters clean can stop a host of wellness troubles and also damage to your residence. Gutters can come to be clogged with fallen leaves as well as various other particles, bring about water damage to your home. Unclean gutters additionally bring in pests and also various other critters, which can spread out bacteria. They can also work as a reproduction ground for mold and mildew. It's vital to clean your rain gutters at the very least yearly. If you stay in a location that gets constant storms, it's a good thought to clean your rain gutters more frequently. There are numerous types of gutter cleaners offered. Some make use of damp or completely dry cleaning approaches. Some might even use a pressure washer to remove the gunk.

Maintaining Your Gutters Clean

Maintaining your gutters tidy is an essential house maintenance job. They help safeguard your home from water damages as well as protect against rot as well as sagging roofings. They likewise give a clean and also specified want to your home. The rain gutters are the main network for water to move away from your home. When they become stopped up, they can create significant damage to your house. Clogged gutters can likewise bring in parasites and also trigger leaks that can harm your siding or structure. In enhancement to the damages, a stopped up gutter can bring about serious wellness problems. Gutter cleaning need to be done at the very least twice a year. This is specifically vital if you reside in an area where there is a lot of rainfall. The rain gutters will last longer if they are cleaned on a routine basis. During the winter season, drainage might ice up as well as increase within the openings of your rain gutters. This can lead to gaps in straight connectors and loosened up wall mounts.

Do it yourself or Professional?

Cleaning your rain gutters is one of one of the most essential upkeep jobs for your home. It keeps water far from your foundation. Whether to do your own rain gutter cleaning or hire Gutter Cleaning Indy is a choice that depends upon a variety of variables. If you're in the market for a rain gutter cleaning service provider, make sure you're inquiring about the specials and also matching up prices. Relying on the size of your home, rain gutter cleaning can differ in cost. It's also crucial to consider just how lots of direct feet of gutters you have. You might also have to pay for specialized tools. While gutter cleaning might look like a reasonably easy job, it's essential to be mindful. Using the wrong tools can create damage to your residence. Additionally, many individuals choose incorrect cleaning items that can cause mold as well as mildew. Having a skilled professional tidy your gutters will avoid significant problems down the roadway. Professionals will certainly also have the ability to detect problems before they come to be a problem.

#gutter cleaning #gutters #Indianapolis

[k00280613]

Temporary Project: Secondary source, Study of wild Platycerium/stagehorn ferns

Platycerium are epiphytes, which means they cling to tree trunks or branches in their natural habitats. Surviving on the occasional rainfall that runs through the tree, catching falling leaves and debris which also provides nutrients.

As a result, Staghorns are frequently grown on mounts attached to walls. Using this unique growing method, I'm considering growing a variety of plants on boards, much like hunters do in their trophy rooms.

17/11/22

[paraphysics]

@rcbf4 | “ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ”

The clouds were so full they began to droop from the sky, hanging low enough so that tall trees brushed it with their fronds. Rain gently pattered on a classroom window — just enough moisture to tell the gloomy weather would persist in a steady, light, fall as opposed to a flash storm. Tom watched raindrops leave streaks through the dew that set on the large pane as they crawled downward. He listened to a wall - mounted clock tick quietly, the rain wasn’t heavy enough to obscure the rhythmic sound. “ Tom ? ”

There were different types of rainfall. Sometimes the sky cried, sometimes it bled. Then there were moments like these where it cascaded because it needed to. The clock began to absorb the environment, Tom’s eyelids crept down as a gentle ticking filled the room — reverberating, coming from every direction. “ Tom. ”

The clock retreated back to where it sat on the wall. Tom’s eyes opened and he looked over his shoulder, expectantly, towards his colleague Doctor Matheson. She gestured with a red pen towards a black flip phone vibrating on the edge of her desk, “ Phone’s ringing. ”

“ oh. ” He made his way over to her desk and picked up the cellular device. ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ. Doctor Matheson looked up from the paper she was grading, “ Is everything okay. ” her brow furrowed in concern.

“ yeah. ” Tom shot back automatically, strolling over to the large classroom window with one hand in his pocket and the other on the answer button.

“ hello. ”

#ɪɴ ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴅ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ. [ ᴍᴀɪɴ ] #yes he has a flip phone. #rcbf4

[gutterslincoln]

Gutter Cleaning Lincoln - How to Get Rid of Gutter Gunk

Keeping your rain gutters clean is a crucial component of your home maintenance. Gutter Cleaning Lincoln can be done both by doing it on your own or by hiring a skilled professional. If you decide to do it on your own, you need to understand several of the actions that you can take to get rid of the gunk that collects in your rain gutters.

Gutter Cleaning Cost

Having your gutters cleaned frequently is an integral part of protecting against water damages and also architectural damage to your home. When it involves gutter cleaning, rates differ extensively, depending on your home's dimension, state, as well as various other elements. The good news is, you can get a far better thought of just how much your rain gutter cleaning will certainly cost by comparing prices.

The nationwide typical rate for rain gutter cleaning varies from $125 to $175. Some companies offer discount rates around 20% for repeat clients. They may also charge additional for downspout cleaning, repair work, or various other services.

Rates vary considerably, especially by state as well as area. Some rain gutter cleaning service providers charge much more for rain gutters that are tall or high-pitch. They may likewise charge additional for homes that are removed, or have complicated roof lines.

The amount of time it requires to clean a rain gutter additionally influences the rate. Some contractors estimate costs by the square footage of the house, while others make use of the size of the gutters.

DIY - Getting Rid of Gunk

Removing gunk when gutter cleaning is a job that can be both untidy and also unsafe. It can likewise be a task that calls for proper equipment and safety gear. You need to additionally realize that this is an area that can bring in unwanted pets and also insects. Keeping your gutters clean can avoid a host of illness and also damages to your home.

Gutters can come to be clogged with fallen leaves as well as other debris, causing water damage to your residence. Unclean rain gutters likewise draw in bugs and also various other critters, which can spread out germs. They can additionally act as a breeding place for mold as well as mildew.

It's essential to clean your gutters a minimum of annually. If you stay in a location that gets regular tornados, it's a great concept to clean your rain gutters a lot more frequently.

There are several sorts of rain gutter cleaners offered. Some use wet or dry cleaning methods. Some may also make use of a pressure washer to remove the gunk.

Maintaining Your Rain Gutters Clean

Maintaining your gutters clean is a needed residence maintenance task. They assist secure your home from water damages as well as avoid rot and sagging roofing systems. They also supply a tidy and also defined seek to your residence.

The rain gutters are the primary channel for water to stream away from your home. When they become blocked, they can cause severe damage to your home. Clogged up gutters can also draw in bugs and also cause leaks that could harm your home siding or foundation. In enhancement to the damage, a stopped up rain gutter can result in serious health issue.

Rain gutter cleaning should be done at the very least two times a year. This is especially essential if you stay in an area where there is a great deal of rainfall. The gutters will certainly last much longer if they are cleaned on a normal basis.

During the wintertime, overflow might freeze as well as increase within the openings of your gutters. This can cause gaps in straight connectors and also loosened wall mounts.

DIY or Professional?

Cleaning your rain gutters is one of the most vital upkeep jobs for your residence. It keeps water away from your foundation. Whether to do your own gutter cleaning or employ an individual is a decision that depends upon a variety of variables. If you're in the market for a rain gutter cleaning service provider, see to it you're asking concerning the specials as well as comparing prices.

Depending upon the size of your house, gutter cleaning can vary in price. It's also essential to consider just how lots of direct feet of rain gutters you have. You might additionally have to pay for specialized tools.

While gutter cleaning may appear like a reasonably straightforward job, it's essential to be cautious. Making use of the incorrect tools can create damages to your house. Furthermore, many individuals choose inappropriate cleaning products that can result in mold and mildew.

Having a skilled professional tidy your gutters will prevent significant issues in the future. Specialists will certainly additionally be able to find problems before they become a problem.

#gutters #gutter cleaning

[kitchencabinetssurrey]

Elevate Your Space: Modern Bathroom Renovation Trends in Surrey for This Summer

As temperatures rise and summer beckons, it’s the perfect time to revitalize your living space, starting with the heart of relaxation—the bathroom. Modern bathroom renovations are all about creating a serene sanctuary that seamlessly blends functionality with style. This summer, immerse yourself in the latest trends that promise to elevate your bathing experience to new heights.

Minimalistic Marvels:

Embrace the ethos of "less is more" with a minimalist bathroom design. Clean lines, sleek fixtures, and clutter-free surfaces characterize this trend. Opt for floating vanities, wall-mounted toilets, and frameless glass shower enclosures to maximize space and create an airy ambiance. Choose a neutral color palette or incorporate subtle pops of color through accessories for a contemporary touch.

Natural Elements:

Bring the outdoors in by incorporating natural elements into your bathroom design. Organic materials like wood, stone, and bamboo add warmth and texture, creating a spa-like atmosphere. Consider wooden vanities, pebble flooring, or stone accent walls to evoke a sense of tranquility. Pair these natural elements with soft, earthy hues to enhance the calming effect.

Smart Technology Integration:

Make your bathroom smarter and more efficient with the latest technological innovations. From motion-sensing faucets to programmable LED lighting, there are endless possibilities to enhance convenience and comfort. Install a smart shower system that allows you to customize water temperature and pressure, or invest in a high-tech toilet with features like heated seats and built-in bidets for a touch of luxury.

Statement Lighting:

Lighting plays a crucial role in setting the mood and ambiance of your bathroom. This summer, opt for statement lighting fixtures that serve as both functional and decorative elements. Pendant lights, chandeliers, and wall sconces can add drama and sophistication to the space, while recessed lighting provides subtle illumination for tasks like grooming and makeup application.

Bold Patterns and Textures:

Dare to be bold with eye-catching patterns and textures that add personality to your bathroom design. Consider incorporating geometric tiles, intricate mosaics, or textured wallpapers to make a statement. Mix and match different patterns and textures for visual interest, but remember to keep the color palette cohesive to avoid overwhelming the space.

Luxurious Spa Retreats:

Transform your bathroom into a luxurious spa retreat where you can escape the stresses of daily life. Invest in indulgent features like a freestanding soaking tub, a rainfall showerhead, or a built-in steam room for the ultimate relaxation experience. Add plush towels, aromatic candles, and soothing music to create a serene ambiance that promotes wellness and rejuvenation.

Green Solutions:

Sustainable design is becoming increasingly important in modern renovations. Incorporate eco-friendly materials and energy-efficient fixtures to reduce your carbon footprint and create a healthier environment. Install low-flow toilets, water-saving faucets, and LED lighting to conserve resources and lower utility bills. Additionally, consider adding plants to your bathroom decor to improve air quality and bring a touch of nature indoors.

This summer, embark on a journey of transformation with a modern bathroom renovation that reflects your personal style and enhances your everyday life. Whether you prefer sleek minimalism, natural elegance, or high-tech luxury, there are endless possibilities to create a space that inspires and rejuvenates. Embrace the latest trends and let your imagination run wild as you elevate your bathroom into a sanctuary of serenity and style.

Luxury bathroom renovations contractors in Surrey BC & North Vancouver area. We offer free designing and consultation. Call us today.

#Kitchen Cabinets Surrey BC

[wisehomes]

Revitalizing Downtown: The Ultimate Guide to Bathroom Renovation

In the heart of any thriving city lies its downtown, pulsating with life and embodying the spirit of urban living. As the epicentre of cultural, commercial, and social activities, downtown areas continuously evolve to meet the demands of modernity. Among the many facets of urban renewal, Bathroom Renovation Downtown is vital in revitalizing downtown spaces. We delve into the significance of bathroom renovation in downtown areas, exploring trends, challenges, and expert tips to transform these spaces into beacons of contemporary urban living.

Understanding the Importance of Bathroom Renovation in Downtown Areas

Bathroom renovation plays a pivotal role in enhancing downtown establishments' overall appeal and functionality. Whether it's a bustling restaurant, a trendy boutique, or a boutique hotel, the restroom facilities leave a lasting impression on visitors. In a downtown setting, where foot traffic is high and first impressions are crucial, well-designed and meticulously maintained bathrooms contribute significantly to customer satisfaction and retention.

 Trends Shaping Downtown Bathroom Renovation

1. Space Optimization:

In downtown areas where real estate is at a premium, maximizing space efficiency is paramount. Compact fixtures, such as wall-mounted toilets and floating vanities, help create the illusion of spaciousness while ensuring optimal functionality.

2. Sustainability:

With growing environmental consciousness, downtown businesses increasingly embrace eco-friendly bathroom designs. Low-flow toilets, sensor-activated faucets, and energy-efficient lighting reduce operational costs and demonstrate a commitment to sustainability.

3. Luxurious Touches:

Downtown establishments often seek to elevate the customer experience through luxurious bathroom amenities. From lavish marble countertops to rainfall showerheads, integrating upscale elements adds a touch of indulgence and sophistication to restroom spaces.

4. Technology Integration:

Smart technology has revolutionized how we interact with our surroundings, and bathrooms are no exception. Automated features such as touchless flush systems and smart mirrors enhance hygiene and imbue restrooms with a futuristic allure.

 Overcoming Challenges in Downtown Bathroom Renovation

1. Regulatory Compliance:

Downtown renovations are subject to stringent building codes and zoning regulations. Ensuring compliance with safety standards and accessibility requirements is essential to avoid costly delays and penalties.

2. Historic Preservation:

Many downtown buildings boast historical significance, presenting unique challenges for renovation projects. Balancing modern amenities with the preservation of architectural heritage requires careful planning and collaboration with preservation experts.

3. Limited Space and Accessibility:

Narrow layouts and restricted access pose logistical challenges in downtown bathroom renovations. Creative design solutions, such as installing space-saving fixtures and implementing universal design principles, can help optimize functionality while ensuring ADA compliance.

Expert Tips for Successful Downtown Bathroom Renovation

1. Prioritize Functionality:

In downtown settings with high foot traffic and frequent restroom usage, prioritize functionality over aesthetics. Focus on durable materials, easy maintenance, and efficient traffic flow to accommodate peak demand periods.

2. Create a Unified Aesthetic:

Maintain consistency in design elements throughout downtown establishments to create a cohesive brand identity. From signage and lighting to fixtures and finishes, a unified aesthetic enhances the overall ambience and reinforces the brand image.

3. Invest in Quality Materials:

Opt for high-quality materials that can withstand the rigours of downtown usage. Durable flooring, moisture-resistant surfaces, and vandal-resistant fixtures ensure longevity and minimize maintenance costs.

4. Embrace Versatility:

Flexibility is critical in downtown environments where spaces often serve multiple daily functions. Design restroom facilities that can adapt to changing needs, whether accommodating families during the day or catering to nightlife crowds in the evening.

Bathroom renovation holds immense potential in transforming downtown spaces into vibrant hubs of urban life. By embracing innovative design trends, overcoming challenges, and implementing expert tips, downtown establishments can elevate the restroom experience for visitors and residents alike. As cities continue to evolve, investing in revitalizing downtown bathrooms is not just a matter of necessity but a testament to the enduring allure of urban living.

#kitchen remodeling #bathroom improvement #home renovation #interior design #home remodeling #bathroom renovation #bathroom remodeling #interior renovation #kitchen remodeling services #material selection services

[bathroomshowersbycascada]

https://cascadashowers.com/products/9x26-bologna-led-music-shower-system-by-cascada-showers

Cascada 9” x 26" Digital Shower System (Wall Mounted) with built-in Bluetooth Speaker, 4 Functions (Rainfall, Waterfall, Body jets, and Handheld Shower)

#cascadashowers #rainfallshowerheads #wallmountedshower #matte black #LEDShower #rainfallshowerhead #rainfallshower #rainfallshowersystem #bestrainfallshowerhead