#probably closer to Goat Rock
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California
#feralchaton#my photography#somewhere between Big Sur and Jenner#probably closer to Goat Rock#my old hangouts#california coast#sunset#pacific ocean#highway 1#pacific coast highway#pch#tails of a feral kitten#california gold
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The Minisodes are a Mirror
I've been thinking about the minisodes and how they are a mirror for the three part story we're currently in the middle of and I just wanted to collect my thoughts a bit.
#1 - The Clue/A Companion to Owls
This is a mirror for season 1. Crowley and Aziraphale joining together to defy Heaven and Hell to save humanity. There are a ton of interesting things happening in this episode. Aziraphale trusts Crowley not to destroy the children. Aziraphale eating that entire cow. It's insane, the gluttony of it. It means something about him and his connection to earthly things. They even use the ribs (that he licked clean btw) for their little ruse against the angels. For some reason it brings to mind the body swap in season 1. Aziraphale learns to possess a human(something he's probably not supposed to do, like eating) and use that new skill to fool Heaven and Hell. But the most important in this sitting together at the end.
So sad.
They're sitting on a nice rock that looks like a bench, as far apart from each other as they can get. It's a reflection of where they were in season 1: together but apart. An angel and a demon who go along with their side but only as much as they want. Not and Us yet (which they still aren't).
A few other questions I had:
Turning the goats to crows, why? Crowley has a crow statue on his desk in season one. Connected? A memento of that time?
Aziraphale says he is on "Gods" side. Is that a nice little side step that allows him to defy other angels but still be "the good one?" Or a foreshadowing of what's to come next season?
Crowley says the wine is from a "promising little vineyard" Châteauneuf-du-Pape perhaps?
All the angels and demons assume you can cause humans to fall in love with miracles, but Aziraphale KNOWS you can't. I wonder about that story.
#2 - I Know Where I'm Going/The Resurrectionist
This minisode is a mirror for the current season. It starts with Crowley and Aziraphale puzzling over a half naked Gabriel only to be distracted by a lesbian couple and basically ruin their lives by trying to help.
Look at that thigh.
Sure, Azripahle gives Elspeth a bunch of money, but we never find out what really happens to her. Not yet anyway. The more important part is the argument about doing wicked or immoral things for the greater good. The reuse of the name Dalrymple is interesting because it's a call back to The Thundergun of Witchfinder Colonel Dalrymple aka the gun Aziraphale tries to shoot Adam with. And it foreshadows the end of the season with Aziraphale leaving Crowley and going to heaven (something everyone on the internet is SCREAMING is wrong, including me!!) because he thinks he can do something good by it. But is it wrong? I guess we'll find out.
Some interesting things:
More foreshadowing? Is God gone? There is a conspicuous absence of the voice of God in this season, except for her half heard diatribe to Job. If she's around, is she only talking to humans?
Michael's Prophecy:
"There will come a tempest, and darkness and great storms. And the dead will leave their graves and walk the earth once more. And there will be great lamentations. (Everyday it’s getting closer)"
It's definitely foreshadowing the next episode, which is full of darkness and explosions and clouds and fog. But I think it's also a prophecy of what's to come in season 3. Just like:
#3 - The Hitchhiker/Nazi Zombie Flesheaters
I think this minisode is just one big foreshadow for season 3 and that's why it doesn't make a lot of sense yet. So, let's look at where the furniture isn't and see if we can guess some things? Feel free to play along at home.
But first can we look at the titles of these three episodes:
The Clue - A Companion to Owls. Is the clue the companion to owls? Job? Or is the clue in the meaning of owls: wisdom and sorrow? The Clue in the framing story is the song "Everyday" and a quote "I remember when the Morning Stars sang together, and all the Angels of God shouted for joy." The sorrow of owls is their song, the sound they make represents lamenting, so music might be important next season. (Didn't King David have something to do with music? Or is that just a song I know?) Crows are enemies of Owls and Crowley has a thing for Crows, the statue, the goats, the book he gives Muriel.
I Know Where I'm Going - The Resurrectionist. I know where I'm going can mean "I know what I'm doing" (trust me) or "I know what direction I'm going in" and that direction is to to Resurrectionist! It's literally what happens in this epsiode: everyone goes to the Resurrectionist in the past AND the present. Or maybe it's a metaphor for death, a place everyone (human) goes. Or maybe The Resurrectionist, who represents the Metatron, the moral quandary of doing bad things for good reasons, represents NOT listening to God or yourself (and thinking you know what you're doing), but falling for the lies of people who claim to be doing good when they're actually not. There is also the Ressurectionist as metaphor for rising from the dead and there is a lot of hints about coming back from the dead this season: Lazarus as a unit of measure, the word Ressurectionist, literal zombies, talk of a second coming, probably more stuff I can't remember.
The Hitchhiker - Nazi Zombie Flesheaters. So “The Hitchhiker” is a short radio play by screenwriter Lucille Fletcher. It was first presented in 1941 on the Orson Welles Show and was later made into and episode of the Twilight Zone. It's also the name of a horror anthology TV show from the 80's, which is fitting for this episode, because it feels like an episode of the Twilight Zone or a horror anthology story. Mostly because of the literal Nazi Zombie Flesheaters and a good dose of "be careful what you wish for" moralizing.
So what can this episode tell us about next season? I have a couple of thoughts:
We have the idea of human magic. These zombies aren't just anyone, they are occultist Nazi's that were meeting with Aziraphale in season 1 to buy books of prophecy. They particularly wanted the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, reminding us that some kind of real human magic exists, and that these Nazi's know about it (and they are now undead Zombies roaming the earth). There is also the mention of Free Masons, a secret organization that may or may not be into the occult. I suspect we'll see some kind of human occult/magic in season 3. Which make's sense with the second coming because by some accounts Jesus was an occult magician in his day.
We also have human magic. The regular stage kind. Here it is used as a kind of trust fall for Aziraphale and Crowley.
So sweet.
I suspect the boys will be placed in a situation where they will have to trust each other or die. Maybe there will even be a lose of power like this time. But they will definitely have to trick someone using mundane means. All three minisodes are about tricks (and arguably the whole season), the three ribs turning into the children, the melting the corpse and stealing the laudanum, the whole magic show episode. There will be a tricks, illusions, making things seem like they aren't. If there isn't I might be sad.
#good omens#good omens 2#good omens meta#This is such a hot mess#hopefully I'm not just crazy#hopefully someone smarter then me can make something of this#I'm an eating up all the meta and it's fabulous#feral thoughts
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violent delights
twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader
chapter six: an old scary story
previous chapter ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ chapter seven
summary: with edward still in her thoughts, will her trip to la push answer all of her unsolved questions?
warnings: blood, gore
words: 1.4k (unedited)
I tossed and turned in my bed, attempting a nap after today’s events, all that should’ve drained me completely. From nearly passing out in Biology, those images, the blood. I shivered at the thought. Then, Edward. No. I should be thinking about what I’d seen, how the world around me had gone completely silent as the nightmare of images had flared through my mind. But, no. All I could think about was Edward’s last words to me: Maybe another time. Just the two of us. It was all too much to take in at once.
Once I settled myself down on my desk chair with my computer lighting up my dark room, racking my brain for something to search. An answer to what I’d seen. The dreams I could ignore and blame my acute sense of imagination. But to be completely pulled out of my reality, to be shown gruesome images in the middle of Biology was something different entirely. I couldn’t even blame my trauma on that episode.
All that I could think to search was: ‘images flashing in my mind,’ which had brought me to the term hypnagogic: relating to the state immediately before falling asleep. I wasn’t asleep. Faint, yes. But no, it didn’t feel right.
The more I searched upon the hypnagogic state, it related more to hallucinations; things that couldn’t possibly be as clear as what I’d seen at all.
I’d given up by the time I decided to search up on visions, seeing images throughout the day, being pulled out of my conscious thought, but all signs had pointed towards severe mental issues and that I should get help immediately.
Maybe it was the shock. Maybe the blood had caused some sort of unusual hallucination from that night, maybe things that had completely blocked out my mind had risen up. But the boat? The dock? There were people… with red beading eyes. All of that was new.
I sighed, defeated, plopping down on my bed.
After a couple of minutes, I read the clock on my nightstand: 7:00 PM. I got up, deciding to go downstairs to start dinner.
I decided to reheat Harry Clearwater’s fish fry, frying it back in the oven and boiling a pot of rice along with a frozen pack of broccoli in the microwave. When I was nearly done, I heard my dad coming through the front door.
“Hey, Y/N/N,” he said, setting the mail on the table.
“Hey,” I started.
He started taking out plates and silverware out of the cabinets.
“Hey, Dad?” I asked. “Do you know a place called Goat Rock or something like that?”
“Yeah, why?”
I shrugged. “Some kids were talking about camping there.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “It’s not a very good place for camping. Too many bears. Most people go there during the hunting season.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. “Nevermind, probably got the name wrong.”
He only nodded, serving himself a plate of everything. I did the same. Then we both ate in our usual comfortable silence.
The beach trip had gone as usual, except it was Mike driving Tyler’s van because of my dad’s success in suspending his license. The rest of the group attempted to surf in the icy waters while Angela and I sat in the back of Tyler’s now dented van with the comfort of our sweaters and blankets. After an hour, we decided to set down blankets close to the water so Angela could take photographs.
Once they came back to shore, we all settled down in the sand.
I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the waves soothe my ears, tuning out the conversations about the dance (one that I probably shouldn’t go to since I’m without a date).
Before I drifted off, I heard a new group’s voice coming closer, opening my eyes, I saw a familiar face amidst the crowd. “Jake?” I called.
“Y/N!” He smiled, attempting to jog towards us.
“Guys, this is Jacob. You all remember Jacob right?” I greeted. Jacob had been there for all of my birthdays and had sometimes joined us on our beach trips, but he mostly kept to himself, only bothering to conversate with Angela, who was the least intense of the group so I didn’t blame him.
They all nodded, exchanging ‘hi’s’ and smiles.
Jacob plopped down next to me, asking about my car, which turned into an entire conversation about his growing obsession with cars ever since his dad let him work on mine over the summer.
Lauren walked by, an obvious hint of jealousy in her eyes. “Y/N,” she called out. “I was just saying to Tyler that it was too bad none of the Cullens could come out today. Didn’t anyone think to invite them?” Her tone was almost mocking.
I didn’t say anything. A boy had spoken up, he looked quite older than the rest. “That doctor’s family?” Lauren nodded. “The Cullen’s don’t come here.” A look of disgust plastered on his face.
I stayed silent. From the looks of the school, I knew the Cullen’s had a hard time fitting in, but they didn’t seem to care about social cues or how others perceived them. Even my father heard the gossip of the town surrounding the Cullens, but even he knew that they were good people, and that was a judgment that I was willing to trust more than gossip. Plus, I knew Edward. At least I think I do.
Once Jacob and I separated ourselves from the group, I sprang up a question: “Was that Sam? Thought he said he was too old to hang out with us.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled.
“What did he mean by ‘the Cullens don’t come here’?”
“Oops. Caught that, huh?” He laughed it off. “I’m not really supposed to say anything.”
“I won’t tell anyone. I’m just a little curious.”
“It's really just an old scary story.” He laughed. “Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from – the Quileutes, I mean?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, there’s one legend that claims that we descended from wolves – and that the wolves are our brothers still. It’s against tribal law to kill them.” Wolves? He continued on, “Then there are the stories about the cold ones…”
“The cold ones?” I asked, feeling a shiver down my spine.
“Yeah. The legend with the Cullens is that they supposedly descended from this, like… ‘enemy clan’... According to the legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land.”
I nodded, letting him know to continue on.
“The cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf–well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves."
My eyebrows furrowed. “Enemies how?”
“The wolves served to protect, while the cold ones… feasted.” I was getting impatient from his sugar-coating.
"So you see," Jacob continued, “the cold ones are traditionally our enemies, but this pack was different. They didn't hunt the way others of their kind did – they weren't supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-grandfather made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, we wouldn’t expose them to the pale-faces.”
“What do you mean by ‘hunt’?”
“They claimed that they didn’t hunt humans. They supposedly preyed on animals instead.” Oh. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this story.
“So, how does this fit in with the Cullens?” I breathed out, knowing the answer. “Are they like the cold ones that your great-grandfather met?”
"No." He paused dramatically. “They’re the same ones." I tried hard to keep my expressions flat, but failed as I saw the look on Jacob’s face. He smiled, looking almost pleased with himself.
“So… what are they? The cold ones?”
“Blood drinkers,” he replied, his tone darkening. “Your people call them vampires.”
Vampires. I didn’t realize how big of a breath I’d taken, releasing it slowly before speaking up. “Wow.” I laughed. “You’re a really good storyteller.”
A bit of a silence rose between the two of us. Vampires? Werewolves? I was dying to know if there was more. An answer to all of my questions.
“What about witches?” I forced out.
“What about them?” He seemed surprised by my question.
“I mean like… witches? Maybe even sirens? Seers? You think they exist?”
“They’re just stories, Y/N.” He laughed it off.
“Yeah. Right.”
“Pretty crazy, though, isn’t it? No wonder my dad doesn’t let us tell anyone about it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “Please don’t say anything to your dad. He was pretty pissed when he heard some of us weren’t going to the hospital since Dr. Cullen started working there.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
next chapter
a/n: this chapter is superrr short and booooo no edward </3 but i really loved the book's telling of the legend of the quileutes and the cullens !!
tags: @measure-in-pain @brekkers-whore @rejectedbimbo @leilanileila @anothercoffeeblogx @cevans-winchester @trawberry-fire (if you'd like to be tagged, either comment on this post or click the link below!)
taglist ₊˚⊹♡
#violent delights#edward cullen x reader#edward cullen#edward cullen fanfiction#edward cullen x y/n#edward cullen x you#twilight#twilight rewrite#twilight fanfiction#robert pattinson x reader#robert pattinson#violent delights fanfiction#violent delights fanfic
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Submitted via Google Form:
Hi, I'd like to build a planet with land across the entire planet that is mostly an alpine. I'm thinking that the majority of the land will be tall mountains with almost all shorelines being tall cliffs so even areas close to the ocean can quickly become tall mointains. Places near the equator will have the highest mountains to offset being closer to the sun. How about resources though? What would be abundant, what puld lack? How about other geographical features and conditions that allow a planet to look like this?
Tex: What happens when the tectonic plates meet? Mountains are created via only one type of plate movement (Wikipedia), but due to physics the opposite side of that plate would create the opposite result (Wikipedia). In order to dissipate the forces caused by a plate causing convergent and divergent boundaries, the horizontal movements of a transformation fault would develop (Wikipedia).
Resources can be boiled down to approximately two things: what grows in water, and what grows in soil. For the former, oceans, seas, lakes, and related areas would need to exist and be large enough to develop life of higher trophic levels. For the latter, it would need enough erosion of rocks to create soil, and be propagated by bacteria to facilitate a healthy environment to propagate photosynthetic life and the upper trophic levels that rely on it. (Birds exist, but also birds must roost, so for all intents and purposes they rely on what grows in soil.)
Anything that has above-water places high enough to create what we would subjectively perceive as mountains would have to be an extremely geologically-active planet, where the plates are constantly moving. This would mean things like lots of volcanoes, and likely an atmosphere saturated in gases like sulfur. Extremophiles can grow in these conditions, but because of energy conservation in a geologically-hostile environment, they’re not likely to grow very big.
If you wish for something different, it might be a “dead” planet, in which there’s little geological activity and the state of things like mountain ranges and placement of oceans are effectively locked into place. This would mean an inert core, and possibly a dying planet or else one in a solar system where it’s faced with a dying sun or outside the goldilocks zone of a reasonably active sun.
Addy: So, resources. That's my jam. If you've got a heavily alpine area, you're generally on mountains or mountain slopes, which generally means you're going to be on a whole bunch of rock. That rock could be sedimentary or metamorphic (igneous is also possible, basalt mountains do exist), but it's still rock. Things that rely on heavy amounts of soil - sand, clay, loam, otherwise - will struggle to form into industries.
You might have 3-4 feet of soil ("soil" includes sections that are mostly gravel – if you're looking for dirt, probably only a foot or two). Looking at a couple examples, I'd say you're probably going to get sandy loam, loamy sand, and gravelly loam. Great drainage, not good for food crops. Since you're alpine, that's going to mean you're above the tree line, so timber is going to be scarce as well. Neutral pH to somewhat alkaline, if that matters to ya. Also, above the tree line, the winds get to be very, very harsh - harsh enough that most plants can't survive up there, so crops are doubly not an option.
If you've got a freeze-thaw cycle, then the ground is going to sprout rocks every year in the spring (literally, the freeze-thaw cycle pushes rocks up towards the surface from under the ground, so you get new rocks in your fields every spring as it starts to thaw), so stone for walls and homes will be plentiful. Insulation will likely come from packed earth (e.g. Icelandic turf homes) or animal hides (e.g. yurts). Without good soil for growing, you're going to likely see a lot of animal husbandry - yaks, goats, oxen, and sheep. Maybe small horses, but no large horses; large, Western horse breeds don't do well if they're only grazing - they generally have feed grown for them. Draft horses are large enough that they have to have food grown for them. But ponies are an option.
Your sand will likely be difficult to get separated from the loam/gravel, so glass will be a tricky industry. Clay will be hard to find, so pottery is limited. Also limiting those industries is a lack of easily available fuel - without timber or peat, you've got limited options on what you have available to burn.
If, by alpine, you're also talking about mountain slopes (and maybe valleys?), then you'll have lots of timber. Lots and lots and lots of timber, so long as you don't clear-cut. Berries will be plentiful in the spring and fall, you'll generally have a decent supply of water, you can grow crops if you're careful about your growing seasons (and the ground acts as a refrigerator, so root cellars and similar structures act as a way to preserve food through the winter months), and you've got wild game to supplement.
Animal husbandry is still an option, though you'll almost certainly need to grow feed to keep them fed over the winter. Goats would do better than sheep, I think, but birds (chickens, ducks, partridge, geese) would probably be the easiest animal to raise. With birds, you'll also get down, which will help for quilts and bedding to keep yourself warm at night. Sheep/goats will get you wool, which will be good for clothing to keep warm. If you've got different animals, whatever birds/mammals they've got nearby that can fill the niche.
For fuel, you've got wood and charcoal. Charcoal is made from wood, and it burns hotter and cleaner than wood. Good for large kitchens… or for kilns. Or for metalworking. Or for writing/art. Wood is easier to get, and more suitable to everyday use.
Valleys tend to accumulate clay, gravel, or sand, depending on how fast the water flows. Steep slopes mean fast water, so you'll mostly get gravel. Mild slopes mean slow water, so you'll get a lot of clay (such as many river deltas, where they meet the ocean). Moderate slopes mean medium-speed water, so you'll get sand (or sand with gravel). River sand may not get you high-quality glass, but you can still make basic glass out of it. When the rivers freeze in the winter, you'll have lots of ice. That can be stored underground in ice houses, so that you have ice year-round.
For lime/quicklime, you'll need shells (so beach) or limestone (so depends on mountains type). Lime is used for a variety of things - making mortar for bricks, removing impurities when making iron, making concrete, etc - but you need limestone (or shells, like oyster shells) and fuel to make it. So that really depends on the type of stone the mountains are made of.
Salt may or may not be plentiful, depending on what the mountains are made of. You've got very little ocean access (since cliffs), so drying out seawater for salt isn't going to be effective for large-scale production.
Either way (with or without trees), trade will be difficult. Overland trade will have to deal with snow, ice, and uneven terrain (plus possible food issues for pack animals). Sea-based trade would have to deal with getting goods up or down those massive cliffs without damaging or dropping them.. and also getting people down there, too. Huge altitude changes.
Wootzel: If your main concern is having your planet chilly, you could look at Earth during the last ice age as inspiration. This would probably result in having a planet with a LOT of nigh-unlivable area near the poles, but it could be a way to make most of your land quite cold without having to rely as heavily on high altitudes, if that’s something you want to look into.
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Can we get something like Lancaster Heartbreak but with DragonSlayer and make it something like...ermm...uhh...DragonSlayer Heartmend where Yang heals Jaune's heart or something like that?
Dragonslayer Heartmend (Part 1)
How interesting...
---------------------------------------------------
"So this is where you've been hiding, huh?"
Jaune looked behind him and confirmed the voice to be Yang's. He sighed. He was so sure nobody followed him. He turned back to the sunset.
"Hi, Yang."
"Nice place." Yang sat next to him. "How'd you find it?"
"I was out on patrol, being chased by a Grimm." He pointed down the ledge where their feet dangled. "Managed to ambush it and push it off the edge. Landed right on those rocks and poofed away."
Yang whistled. "Nice~! You really became a badass since Beacon."
"Thanks."
"No, really. You used to be, well..."
"Vomit Boy?" Jaune raised a brow.
"Yeah, that." Yang chuckled. "You used to lose to Cardin, get the snot kicked out of you by, well, pretty much everyone, and you didn't even have a landing strategy when you showed up!"
"Was that something you learned back at your old school?"
"Nah," Yang leaned back, "I learned that when I tried to fly like my hero." She chuckled. "It turns out that I'm just not cut out to be like Roku."
"Hmph." Jaune smirked. "And here I thought you would be your own hero."
"Actually, my real hero would be my mom." She sighed. "I only picked up Roku after she died. I mean, it's not like I had anyone real in my life to fill that gap."
"Yeah." Jaune gazed down at the cliff. Memories of his hero flowed through his mind. His best friend. His mentor. His lo- Jaune shook his head.
"Hey, you okay?" Yang asked.
"Yeah." Jaune rubbed his eyes. "Sun just got in my eyes."
"Alright."
The two continued to watch the sunset as the orange glow of twilight continued to shine it's final farewell. Yang moved a bit closer to Jaune, testing his boundaries before resting her head on his shoulder.
"I miss her, too."
Jaune didn't say anything. He just sat there, staring at the sunset. With a blink, he felt something warm sting his eyes and coat his cheeks. He remembered something a lot like this, back at Beacon. With a dry throat, he spoke.
"Yang," he began, "do you believe in destiny?"
"Mm..." Yang hummed in thought. "Not really. Things just kinda happen, you know. Not like we're meant to do something, or be somewhere, or live a certain way." She glanced down at her arm. "Whatever happens happens, y'know?"
"Yeah."
"Jaune?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you believe in destiny?"
Memories swam in his head again. The crisp autumn air. The warm sunlight. The distant sounds of joy and whimsy. The smell of sugar and honey-scented shampoo. He felt a pain in his chest.
"Not anymore." He looked down to Yang. "I'm gonna head back now."
"Okay." Yang lifted her head from his shoulder and stood up. She stretched her arms up and groaned.
Jaune stood up. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fi- Whoa!" A rock fell from above, almost hitting her. She stepped away, but found herself falling over the edge. She shut her eyes, suddenly feeling her a jolt and a sharp pain in her arm.
"I gotcha!" Jaune called, keeping a tight grip on her arm. He pulled her back to solid ground, catching her in his embrace. "You okay?"
"Yeah..." Yang kept her hand to his chest. She could feel his heartbeat thumping through his chestplate. She stepped away, and his arm moved to her back. "So, uh, you think that was destiny being pissed at us?"
Jaune chuckled. "I doubt it. Could have just been a goat."
"Yeah, probably." Yang chuckled. "But let's not test that theory. Let's head back down before destiny tries something heavier than a rock."
"Yeah." Jaune agreed. "Don't want it to know we think it peaked."
"Shut up." Yang jabbed his arm. "Puns are my thing." The two shared their mirth as they made their way down. On the way, Yang felt a warmth in her chest. Something about seeing him smile and laugh made her feel good, too. Really good.
Really, really good.
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Since you're not feeling well, a little happy ficlet prompt:
Fluff from the fifth song in your Spotify Likes!
is this fluff? i really don't know. i actually have no idea what the hell this even is but i think you can probably take the weirdness up with mr. john darnielle anyway
Rodney knows his team will always come for him, but even with that surety, he's still struggling to stay calm as he's taken prisoner for unspecified claims of "witchcraft."
"It's not witchcraft, it's physics, you absolute morons," he'd shouted, voice going shrill and strident, but the villagers had ignored both his protests and his attempts to explain the experiment he'd been conducting, dragging him away from the outpost while the others were exploring nearby.
The tiny village is, it turns out, a front for a much larger society—and you'd think they would fucking check for that at this stage, but no—and most of the community lives in a system of white-rocked caves. They bring Rodney to a small room, attach him to a chain in the floor and cuff his hands together, then leave.
It's two days before he sees another human face, and when he does it's a woman who seems to be some sort of bureaucrat, flanked by tall, broad-shouldered guards.
"Wizard of Atlantis," she says, and Rodney tries, really he does, not to roll his eyes. He thinks he should probably be commended for this, but no one ever seems to appreciate these efforts from him. "Your warriors have come to plead for your release."
"Oh, finally," Rodney mumbles, sighing heavily and standing up. "Let's get this show on the road, then."
The woman's eyebrows climb, but she directs one of the guards to unlock Rodney from the floor chain, and then he's led into a cavernous room, his team standing in the middle of it, each of them looking perfectly deadly in their own way.
"As you can see, warriors," the woman says, her voice echoing off of the stark-white walls, "your wizard is unharmed. However, we cannot allow him to be released, lest his evil magic bring ruin upon our community."
Rodney opens his mouth, but John gives him a look, so he closes it, decides to let his team do their thing. The room is full of guards, but they haven't confiscated their weapons, so Rodney's well aware of the odds if this goes poorly.
Teyla steps forward. "We understand your people fear Dr. McKay's powers, but I can guarantee that if you release him, your home shall be left standing." She shifts her weight, a subtle change in stance from diplomat to deadly. "If you refuse, I cannot make the same promise."
"You are but three warriors," the woman scoffs, and Rodney watches as Ronon smiles, sharp and gleaming like the blade of a knife.
"We got all the way here, didn't we?" John offers, and Rodney clocks, now, the small signs of a previous struggle on each of them. They fought their way in, he realizes.
"They must be in the wizard's thrall, to be so willing to offer their own lives for his," whispers another bureaucrat. "Truly his powers are fearsome indeed."
"Let him go," Teyla says, her voice taking on a steeled edge, "and we will return beyond the stars, never to trouble your people again."
One of the guards moves closer to Rodney, puts a hand on his shoulder, and Rodney can hear Ronon growl.
"We're not leaving without him," John says, low and dangerous.
Someone leans in, whispers in the lead woman's ear, and she nods, turns to the guards.
"Release him," she says. "We do not wish to draw any more harm to our people."
"Once again," Rodney says, as they release his handcuffs, "not practicing any type of magic, and, if I were in fact capable of magic, wouldn't I have been able to teleport my way out of here in the first place?"
Teyla steps up, her eyes sweeping quickly over Rodney, taking inventory.
"It is good to see you unharmed." She reaches up, putting a hand on the back of Rodney's neck and drawing him in, pressing her forehead to his for the space of a few deep, quiet breaths.
"Why didn't you tell me you could do magic?" Ronon asks, his mouth quirked up at the side, and Rodney breathes out a laugh, rolls his eyes.
"As I said moments ago, if I could—"
"C'mon, McKay," John interrupts, clapping a hand on Rodney's back. To an untrained eye, it's a simple gesture of camaraderie, but Rodney's been on the receiving end of this touch enough times to know that John needs to feel out the solidity Rodney's body for himself, to know he's alright. "Atlantis needs its wizard king back."
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Sneak Peak of "The Ballad of Beatrice"
...Beatrice's consciousness swirled in and out as she slowly came to. She was probably more tired than she thought, after she was seeing that weird gem glow. She groaned as she could hear voices above her, but couldn't piece together proper sentences.
"...What is..."
"...Is she...
"...Stay Close Chi..."
"...scar! No Osc..."
By the time Beatrice slowly opened her eyes, a wet tounge on her cheek fully woke her up. "Wha-Huh?!" She shouted, as her vision straightened out, but she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Sitting on her stomach sat a small orange fox with a red bandana, but that wasn't the thing that made her eyes shrink in shock.
Standing above her were 3 small goats, one of them with significantly longer ears, and a Axolotl wearing a blue cape with a gem into it. Beatrice gave a gasp as she quickly sat up, making the animals jump back in fear. Looking around, Beatrice saw that she was no longer in the comfort of her home, But rather in the middle of a forest, in the middle of the night.
"Wha-But-H-How did I?!" She stuttered, looking around at her new surrounding, while catching a glimpse of the 3 goats hiding behind a rock "Aah! W-What is that thing! What's it doing?!" She heard one of them panic "Is it another troll?!" She heard another one say. "I-If it is. I can take it!" She heard the 3rd one say.
Beatrice scrambled up to her feet "Wha-Troll?! I'm not a troll!" She shouted, but backed away as she saw the Axolotl forming purple orbs in his hand "Don't worry children. I can handle this." He said. "W-Wait! I don't even know where I am! Or how you're doing that!" Beatrice shouted, hoping to make the purple orbs go away. "W-Well. If you're not a troll, then what are you?" She heard one of the goats ask.
"Um. I'm a human." She said, causing the goats to look up in curiosity "Um...a "Hoo-Man?" What's a Hoo-man?" A goat with glasses and a red sweater asked "Is it like some kind of monkey?" He asked. "Erm...well it complicated." Beatrice replied, as the Axolotl walked closer to her, curiosity in his eyes...
To be Continued...
@bbu-fan-blog @billiebustupofficial
#Billie Bust Up#BBU Billie#Billie#BBU Oscar#Oscar#BBU Lily#Lily#BBU Aristotle#Aristotle#BBU Lewis#Lewis
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highlights from the goats concert also for posterity:
full band 'minnesota' that rocked so fucking hard
again that 2 piano matt and john 'wear black' that shifted something in me
live jazz 'no children' before john was like "wait that's not the time signature for this song" and slamming into the original version
'cry for judas' probably twice as fast as the studio version, excellent for yelling
(and here i will shout out the absolutely stunning angelic individual a few folks down from me at the people fence, they were so tall and had such perfect curly blonde hair, and i kept looking over at them when i didn't know the words bc they were always singing along)
'damn these vampires' was another absolute barn-burner
followed immediately by "this is a song about when someone has their hands around your throat....and you like it" like what a fucking intro to 'choked out' which i personally believe should always be played twice
like truly "worried look on the face of the ring side nurse/at one for once with the universe" is the "cellar door" of mountain goats discography and hearing a whole venue singing it gave me goosebumps
BEST PART the openers were local-ish and were so fun and charismatic and had such a relationship with the crowd and obviously the mountain goats and when they played 'this year' as a closer they brought pool kids back on stage to sing and dance it out with them and it was so fucking fun
#:)))))))#the mountain goats#and THEN i drove home through the mountains for 2 hours in the middle of the night#cannot recommend#also i'm pretty sure i got double charged at the parking garage#but what can ya do
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@lisa-and-shadow see if this one works?
Nico could have taken a day of rest before pushing on to the Dry Steppes. He doubted it would have made a difference, but he was desperate to put Scosglen and that whole damn mess behind him.
He would have to tell Lorath of course. He deserved to know what happened to his friend, but after that all Nico wanted was to sleep. Maybe he’d get lucky and get at least a few hours of rest before the nightmares hit.
It was dark when he got to Ked Bardu, but there were still a few stragglers on the streets. Enough to direct him to the inn, and perhaps from there he could find Lorath.
Whatever Lorath had discovered about the Pale Man was probably not good. The innkeeper swore at Nico when he’d asked, apparently the ‘old man’ had made a name for himself the last few days. Drinking the entire stock of rum, picking fights with strangers, arguing and ranting in an unknown language to anyone with an ear, and worst of all, not paying his tab.
Nico got directions to where he’d last been seen. He had to pay for a room and cover Lorath’s tab, and he was pretty sure the innkeeper threw in a few extra charges there. (Thank fuck killing demons was actually lucrative business, as long as you survived long enough to spend the gold)
Nico found him near the stables, leaning heavily against the wall and talking to a goat.
“Should’ve seen the signs really. He was always fucking pushing boundaries. But fuckin’ hells, not even I could have expected this shit-“
“Lorath, fuck, there you are.”
At his name, the man jerked, bleary eyes meeting Nico’s and for a moment there was no recognition.
“Who in the hells are you?”
“…You told me to meet you here Lorath, remember?”
“Ah.” Lorath rubbed a hand over his face, “Right. I’m just surprised you’re not dead.”
Nico took a step closer.
“Lorath what happened? Who is the Pale Man?”
Lorath wavered. It seemed as if he was on the verge of telling Nico, before his face went blank.
“He’s… No. Just… no.”
Nico recognized that expression. He’d seen it those weeks ago, when Lorath had told him about Malthael and Westmarch. That haunted expression which meant Lorath just wanted to drown himself in enough ale to forget, even if only for a few hours.
Well, as he had proven those weeks before, there were other methods of distraction.
“Alright then, not tonight.”
He took another step closer and put a hand on Lorath’s arm. Lorath’s eyes traced a path from his hand up to his eyes, and Nico could tell when he remembered what happened weeks ago because his eyes darkened, and he swallowed hard.
Nico waited.
Lorath’s hand curled around one of the leather straps of his armor, pulling him in closer.
“Listen here Wanderer, either leave me to my drinking or- “
“Or?” Nico crowded Lorath, pushing him deeper into the relative privacy of one of the empty stalls. He leaned in, lips brushing against Lorath’s jaw. Lorath tilted his head back with a sigh, and Nico took the opportunity to gently press a smattering of kisses along his throat, the coarse edge of the beard tickling his lips.
“Or be a more enticing alternative.”
Nico bit down. Lorath groaned, pulling him closer. Nico slid a leg between Lorath’s thighs, pressing him against the wall and rocking his hips against the growing erection.
“I suppose I’ll have to prove myself then, won’t I?”
He layered Lorath’s neck with bites and kisses, not bothering to be careful with his teeth. The opposite really, taking care to leave marks that wouldn’t be easily covered by Lorath’s beard or his cloak.
“Watch your fuckin’ teeth.” Lorath’s hand reached up and grabbed his face, thumb sliding along his cheek, then into his mouth. Nico’s tongue slid along the flat of his thumb, and he closed his lips around it and sucked gently, eyes meeting Lorath’s, who groaned heavily.
Lorath pressed harder against the tongue with his thumb, then traced up along the teeth, rubbing over the sharp canines.
“Better not feel those, dog.”
Nico grinned and bit down. He was rewarded with Lorath’s sharp gasp, his legs spreading wider.
“Guess you’re gonna have to take that risk, old man.”
He knelt down, bunching Lorath’s robes to the side and pulling his pants down to his knees. He lavished his thighs with kisses and bites, ignoring the erection in front of him. One of Lorath’s hands reached down and sunk into Nico’s hair, pulling at it in vain to get Nico’s mouth to where he really wanted it.
Nico ignored the pain, in fact it encouraged him to skip over Lorath’s erection entirely, leaning up and biting at his stomach instead. He relished in Lorath’s grunts of frustration.
“Fucking hells, you better not be expecting me to beg–“ Lorath cut himself off with a groan.
Well, that was an interesting thought.
“Next time.” He promised (if there was a next time) and rewarded Lorath’s patience by sliding his tongue over the head of his cock.
He took the next few minutes to explore and discover what made Lorath shake. There was a particular vein under his cock that, if Nico stroked it with his tongue, made Lorath’s hips jerk forward. If he cupped his balls and gently massaged them, Lorath gave a deep rumbling groan that almost sounded like a purr. And if he very carefully scraped his teeth along the side of his cock, it made Lorath curse and whine, futilely pulling at his hair.
After a few moments, Nico stopped moving entirely, cock still halfway down his throat, looking up until Lorath made eye contact. He paused, saliva pooling in his mouth, dripping down his chin.
Waiting.
Lorath groaned loudly. He gripped Nico’s hair tighter and began to thrust, fucking Nico’s mouth at his own pace. Nico relaxed further, using the same meditative techniques he used when fighting to keep control over his gag reflex. (Hah, if his teacher could see him now.)
Lorath’s thrusts grew jerky and erratic, his panting getting faster and louder. Nico pressed in closer, lips reaching the base of Lorath’s cock, nose brushing against his stomach, throat contracting over the head of his cock-
“AH!”
Nico’s arms wrapped around Lorath’s legs, one hand curling over his thigh, the other gripping his ass tightly, keeping him on his feet as Lorath came down his throat with a shout. His whole body going weak from the force of his orgasm.
He carefully pulled away as Lorath slowly came down from his high. Nico rested his head against Lorath’s thigh. His throat was burning, his legs were killing him, his pants tight and sticky from coming completely untouched, but he had never felt better in his life.
He carefully got to his feet, gently tucking Lorath back into his pants.
“I suppose that’s one alternative to a night of drinking,” Lorath helped him to his feet, pressing his hand against Nico’s groin and raising an eyebrow at the wetness, “Well, I was going to offer to return the favor, but it seems you enjoyed that as much as I did.”
“Oh, we’re not done here Lorath.” Nico’s voice was wrecked. Deep and gravelly.
“Oh?”
Nico grinned wickedly, pressing a deep kiss to Lorath’s mouth, making him taste the saliva and his own cum. Then leaned over and licked his ear. The damaged one, tongue feeling the texture of the long healed-over scar.
“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your own damn name.”
Lorath hummed in pleasure.
“Lofty promises. Let’s see how well you keep them.”
---
The trip back to the inn passed by in a blur. The innkeeper glared at Lorath as they entered but said nothing as they passed upstairs to the room. The room itself was small and sparsely decorated. (Nico wondered if the innkeeper had given them the smallest room intentionally). But it had a bed and four walls which suited their purpose well enough.
Nico paused when they entered, watching Lorath as he stripped down.
For all that he was an old man who drank too much too often, there was a strength to that body. Nico had seen him carry that 120-pound dead buck over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. Had seen him wield that long-handled axe with a grace and ease that men half his age would be envious of.
He was tempted to change his initial plans. To feel that weight press him down onto the mattress, the strength of those arms pinning him down.
But perhaps next time (oh please let there be a next time). For tonight it seemed as if Lorath wanted another to take control. And Nico loved nothing better than giving his partner whatever it was they needed.
Lorath spread himself on the bed, unabashedly letting Nico gaze his fill.
“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts already, Wanderer.”
“Just admiring the view.”
Nico held eye contact as he began to strip out of his armor. Crossbow and swords placed carefully along the wall, the multitude of throwing daggers (at his sides, strapped to his arms, his legs, even the one in his boots), the potions and poisons hanging from his belt, all carefully removed and placed onto the small side table.
Lorath hummed approvingly, Nico could see his interest growing with each weapon revealed.
“I don’t suppose you have any oil or lubricant in one of those pouches of yours? Or this night might yet end in disappointment.”
“Lorath,” Nico tsked chidingly, “You should know by now preparation is key for those who make a living adventuring.” And from one of the bags, he procured a small jar, with a thick oil for this express purpose.
(Nico had bought this oil a few weeks back. He had waited for some time after that one night they shared in the cabin before returning there once again, so as not to seem too desperate. He had been hoping to entice the man into another pleasurable night, before the blizzard and the damn villagers in Nevesk had thrown all his plans out the window.)
“Hmm, well I suppose it’s a good thing I’m dealing with a professional.” Lorath’s tone was mocking and it drove Nico crazy, “If only this one would hurry up.”
“I thought age was supposed to come with patience hm?”
“Not for this old man, now are you going to come here and fuck me or do I have to do it myself?”
“Well since you asked so nicely.”
Whatever retort Lorath had was cut off as Nico kissed him, pressing him down into the creaky mattress. Lorath arched up, deepening the kiss, his hand sinking once again into Nico’s hair. Nico moaned.
“Like that, do you?” Lorath asked, tugging sharply at his hair.
“Oh yes, about as much as you like pulling it I wager.”
Lorath grinned, and then flipped them over.
Nico raised an eyebrow, “I thought you wanted to get fucked old man?” He trailed a hand along his side, reaching down to squeeze at Lorath’s ass.
“Oh I do.” Lorath lavished kisses down Nico’s neck, licking a long stripe along the tattooed image of an arrow piercing an eye along his throat. “But you had your fun earlier, and now it’s my turn.”
There was another tattoo of a broken dagger along his chest, and Lorath followed that with lips and tongue to his nipples, lingering there to enjoy Nico’s moans, hands sliding along his hips, those muscled thighs.
Nico didn’t bother restraining himself, arching into Lorath’s mouth and unabashedly moaning, gripping Lorath’s arms and back and feeling the tense muscles under his grip. Nico could feel a scar along the back of Lorath’s shoulders and his lips ached with the desire to lick it.
“Fuck you’re loud,” Lorath groaned, pausing to rest his head against Nico’s chest in order to catch his breath.
“Me? You’re the one who was practically yelling out to all of Ked Bardu when you had your dick in my mouth earlier. Was tempted to gag you so we wouldn’t get caught.”
Nico wasn’t sure which idea affected Lorath more, but either way Lorath let out a shaky loud moan, hips grinding down against the mattress desperately.
Nico gripped his arms and pulled Lorath back up, kissing him roughly, and flipping them over once more.
“Can you not shut up?” He reached up and pressed two fingers into Lorath’s mouth. Pressing down on his tongue roughly, then pressing deeper into his throat, “This isn’t your cabin in the mountains Lorath. There’re people here, these walls are thin, and everyone is going to hear you getting fucked and moaning for it.”
Lorath just moaned louder, his eyes fluttering shut, his hips arching up, cock rubbing against Nico’s.
Frankly, Nico probably could have cum just from this. But he’d made a promise and it would be in poor taste not to keep it. So, he pulled back and reached out with his other hand for the jar of oil, searching for wherever it had fallen on the bed, and making a triumphant “Ah hah!” when he found it.
He slid down Lorath’s chest again, unable to resist one last kiss to the red and aching cock. He slicked his fingers in the oil and began to prepare Lorath. He was a man on a mission; one finger, then another, using his other hand to spread Lorath’s ass and thighs open further.
He could see Lorath out of the corner of his eyes, one hand gripping the sheets tightly while the other clawed at the wall. He was panting and whining, rocking his hips against Nico’s fingers. Absolutely beautiful.
“Fuck, I’m ready, fucking come here already.”
Nico hummed, curling his fingers once more just to hear Lorath grunt before pulling back and slathering his cock with the oil. He didn’t know how long it had been since Lorath had last been fucked, so he opted for more oil just in case.
He tried to go slowly, careful not to hurt him, but Lorath’s legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him in roughly. As he bottomed out they both let out loud cries.
“O-old man you need to fucking shut it.” Not that he was any better.
He slid back, adjusted his angle, and slid back in. Setting a rough, impatient pace.
Nico wasn’t going to last much longer. Between the days of travel and the earlier incident at the stables, he was reaching his physical limit. He gripped Lorath’s hips tightly and thrust roughly, the cheap bed creaking and shaking with the effort.
“Fucking- fuck, touch yourself.” He pleaded in a shaky voice.
Lorath obeyed. One hand had reached back to press against the headboard, using it to brace himself and press back deeper onto Nico’s cock with every thrust. The other reached down and began to jerkily stroke his own cock.
It was enough to push him over the edge. He moaned loudly, cum splattering all over Nico’s stomach and chest, dripping down to his own stomach.
Nico gripped Lorath’s hips tight enough to leave bruises, and pressed in closer, almost falling over from the force of his own orgasm.
He very carefully pulled out. Lorath looked like a mess, soaked in sweat and cum. The sight was almost enough to push Nico for another round (if he wasn’t already so damn tired).
Lorath’s own exhaustion must have caught up to him because Nico could already see the relaxed muscles and slow heavy blinks giving way to sleep.
Nico longed to join him, but if they fell asleep like this now then the next morning would be even worse.
Groaning, he got up off the bed. There was a pounding at the door and Nico, not bothering to get dressed, stumbled over to it and gingerly cracked it open.
It was the innkeeper, a stern woman who met his gaze unflinchingly.
“Are you two done? People are complaining about the noise.”
Nico glanced over at Lorath, already beginning to doze off.
“Yeah. For tonight at least.”
The innkeeper glared at him for a moment and sighed. She pushed the door open further and Nico realized she was carrying a washbasin full of water, two cloths hanging off the side. She set it down in his room, and handed him two jugs, also filled with water.
“Drink. It is dangerous to get dehydrated in the desert, and your friend had already been drinking for days.” She pointed a finger at Nico’s face, “Make sure both of you drink the whole thing. Understand? I don’t want to have to call the healer because two idiots didn’t drink enough water when having sex in the desert.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She glanced over at Lorath and the filthy sheets with an expression that said she had seen this sort of thing thousands of times before and none of it phased her anymore.
“I’ll bring you some clean sheets as well. It will cost you extra.”
Nico looked over at their discarded clothes, still filthy from their earlier activities.
“I don’t suppose you know anyone who can wash these clothes too?”
She sighed, gathering them up, “There’s a washerwoman who can get these ready for you by the morning. It will cost you extra. I can have them delivered to you in the morning.”
“Let me guess, it will cost me extra?”
She hummed approvingly, “Good. You are learning. Now let my customers sleep in peace or I will throw you out, no matter how much gold you carry, stranger.”
And with that she left.
Nico washed his face in the basin, took one of the cloths and carefully cleaned up Lorath, using the other cloth to wipe himself down as well.
He woke a grumbling Lorath long enough to get him to gulp down the water and pull the soaked sheets out from under him. Then covered him with the clean ones.
There, he hesitated. The spot on the bed next to Lorath looked so inviting. Nico ached to fit himself in that empty spot. To pull Lorath’s head to rest on his chest, card his fingers through that soft grey hair, press his nose against the top of that head, sleep wrapped up together and wake him with a kiss when the sun rose.
Except.
Except that last time, in the cabin, Lorath had (not unkindly, but firmly) kicked him out afterwards. There had been a distinct difference between sex, and the intimacy that came from sleeping beside one another. And Lorath had made it clear that he was far more comfortable with one than the other. Nico didn’t want to cross that boundary without Lorath’s explicit permission. Strange, how it seemed so more intimate than fucking him.
He lingered for a moment, taking in the deep, even breathing, the snoring, Lorath’s face relaxed in post-orgasmic sleep in a way that it never did while awake. Nico sat at the edge of the bed and watched him sleep. Like a dog, hoping his master would notice his silent plea and give him permission to climb up onto the bed.
But of course, Lorath did not.
Eventually the exhaustion won out. He grabbed one of the extra sheets, picking a suitable-looking spot on the floor to lie on and wrapped it around himself. It was a warm night thankfully, and he’d slept on harder surfaces before.
In the morning the hunt for Lilith would continue. Lorath would have to tell him what he’d discovered about the Pale Man, and Nico would tell him about the mess in Scosglen and the Temple of the Firstborn.
But not tonight. Tonight they would rest.
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vignette vi: an outing
note: it's vignette 6 because it should go after vignette 5. vignette 5 currently only exists in my head, which is why I'm not posting this on ao3. consider this a preview or something.
summary: Camelot's two most specialest little guys go on a picnic. Arthur's not there. He's busy. | (Merlin/Gwen; implied Merlin/Gwen/Arthur. 2.9K words) | Part of my merwenthur series.
This one directly references an event that happened in fleete's fic but you can tell what happened even if you haven't read it, or if you don't remember it.
An Outing
“Gwen?” Merlin calls, pulling on the reins of his horse. Chestnut stops and then obediently starts to turn on himself, describing a semi-arch, until Merlin is facing Gwen.
They were riding abreast until a moment ago, when Gwen stopped to look at the craggy outcropping towering near the river, and then at the mossy rocks on the river bank.
Merlin trots back to her.
“What is it?” he asks, and then he follows the direction of her gaze. “Oh,” he says. Realising.
They haven’t been back here since the incident.
“Not here,” Gwen says, and Merlin nods.
“A bit further ahead,” he says.
They ride on.
They find a nice spot under some trees bordering a clearing. White and yellow wildflowers are scattered all across the glade, and there is a lovely breeze, and the treacherous river burbles happily in the background, but at least the crag is not looming over them anymore, an odious reminder of that awful day.
Gwen spreads the blanket under the trees and starts unpacking the food while Merlin tethers their horses. Gwen’s mare headbutts him affectionately in the chest as he ties her reins to a branch, and he stops to pat her neck and give her a friendly scratch behind her ear.
Gwen smiles.
They chatter leisurely as they eat. The food is nothing elaborate, just something Merlin grabbed quickly from the kitchens, but still fit for a royal — cold meats, fine white bread, goat cheese, walnuts in honey, and a few strawberry tarts, slightly squashed during the ride but no less delicious for it.
“Do you think Arthur’s made it to Nemeth already?” Gwen asks, licking some honey off of her thumb.
Merlin tries to reply, having apparently forgotten he was biting into a tart. He stuffs the rest of it in his mouth and gulps it down, quickly — probably painfully — half-chewed.
“Should have,” he says, sounding a bit choked, and spraying crumbs of pastry all over his neckerchief. He frowns down at it in annoyance and gives it a little shake.
“You’re ridiculous,” Gwen says, with immense fondness, and Merlin shoots back, nonsensically, “You’re ridiculous,” before reaching for a waterskin.
He tips it into his mouth. A lonely drop trembles on the rim and falls onto his tongue.
“Ugh,” Merlin says. He makes as if to get up to refill it, but Gwen takes the waterskin from his hand.
“I’ll go,” she says.
Merlin gives her a look that falls just short of an eye-roll. “I can refill a waterskin without drowning myself, you know,” he says, but he lets her go.
She can feel his eyes on her back as she crouches on the wet rocks of the bank, holding her skirts up to her waist.
When she sits back on the blanket she hands Merlin the waterskin, and she watches him gulp down the fresh water greedily, with his eyes closed and his head thrown back. Her eyes linger on the bump in his throat, bobbing up and down. A drop of water escapes the corner of his lips and slides sideways towards his jaw, then down the pale column of his neck, before disappearing into his neckerchief.
When Merlin opens his eyes, he catches her staring.
“What?” he asks, corking the waterskin. Lips wet. He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.
“Nothing,” Gwen says, and she scoots closer, and takes his face in her hands and thrusts her tongue into his mouth.
Judging by Merlin’s reaction, it’s unexpected but not unwelcome. He makes a little noise of surprise high in his nose and he pulls her closer by her waist, kissing her back just as hungrily.
“I’ve missed you,” Gwen whispers between kisses, against his lips.
“You see me every day,” Merlin says, dumbfounded — which is a bit stupid, but he’s understandably distracted by Gwen nipping at his neck and clenching her hands in his hair.
“No, I meant— this,” Gwen says, going in for another, more demonstrative kiss, and sneaking a hand under Merlin’s shirt to stroke the bare skin over his stomach.
“Oh,” Merlin breathes. He pulls back. “You want to…? Now?”
Gwen nods.
“Here?”
“There’s no one around,” Gwen says.
Merlin glances around, looking like he’s internally debating the wisdom of Gwen’s proposition. The spot they are sitting in is secluded by the trees, and they haven’t met any other rider on the way here, but they are still on the castle grounds, and there’s a small chance that some knights might ride near them on patrol.
If Merlin denies her, Gwen thinks she might expire on the spot. It’s been ages since she’s been touched and taken passionately, as she is burning to be touched and taken now. It’s been even longer since she and Merlin lay together — and the number of times they’ve done it without Arthur present can probably be counted on the fingers of two hands.
“We can be quick,” Gwen says, and that’s apparently what it takes to tip the scales.
“Yes, all right,” Merlin says, and Gwen kisses him as she climbs on top of him, straddling his legs, and then she pushes him flat on his back.
It is, indeed, a very quick affair.
She undoes Merlin’s front laces and tugs his trousers and braies out of the way, then she hikes up her skirts, and after a quick, “Is this all right?”, and Merlin’s frantic, “Yes, yes— gods” — she sinks down on him.
It burns, a little, and she tries not to wince.
What follows is more grinding and rubbing than actual thrusting, really, but it feels good, and then it starts feeling better, so much so that she forgets her initial discomfort. When Merlin tries to grab her waist, presumably to take the situation in hand, Gwen grasps his hands and pins them to the ground on either side of his head, and Merlin gives a little laugh, but he lets her keep them there. She bends down to kiss him and to pour her moans into his open mouth as she reaches her climax and shakes helplessly with pleasure, tasting strawberries on her tongue.
“Gwen,” Merlin says, his voice tight, his body tense, as she nips at the corner of his mouth — a warning. She straightens and pulls herself to her knees, just enough to let him slip out of her.
She leans back on one hand and she reaches back with the other, blindly, stroking him clumsily due to the odd angle, but Merlin is so close to coming that it doesn’t seem to matter much. He caresses her thighs and squeezes his eyes shut, arching his neck with a moan, thrusting up into her hand — and the sight of his face, and the feeling of him in her hand, hot and hard and wet from being inside her, are almost enough to push Gwen over the brink again.
Merlin comes with a little grunt, spilling his warm seed over Gwen’s fingers and the back of her thigh.
“Gods,” he breathes out again, once he’s finished pulsing in Gwen’s hand. His body goes limp, and his arms fall from Gwen’s legs.
Gwen gives the softening flesh in her fingers a gentle squeeze, chuckling at Merlin’s sharp intake of breath. She pecks him on the mouth and slides off of him, lying down next to him, and wipes her hand on the grass. Merlin pulls up his trousers.
They stay like this for a long moment, waiting for their breath to slow down.
“Well,” Merlin drawls, after he’s sufficiently recovered. “That was…”
“Yeah,” Gwen confirms.
“I’ll have to be careful,” Merlin says. “Drinking water around you.”
“Oh, shush.”
“Now that I know it might set you off,” he continues, undaunted. The cheek of him. “Wouldn’t want you to get the urge to climb on me in polite company.”
“Well, excuse me for having needs,” Gwen says, peeved, but also slightly embarrassed.
“I wasn’t complaining.”
“No, you were making fun of me.”
Merlin turns to look at her, looking a bit chastised. “I wasn’t.”
“You were! Just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t mean I—”
“That’s not… I was only teasing you a little. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about it. Sorry.” He rolls onto his side and places his hand on her belly. “It was unexpected, that’s all. But I enjoyed it. Very much.”
He kisses her cheek, sweetly, and Gwen feels like she could cry.
“Me too,” she says. “It’s just… It’s been a while.”
Merlin hums in agreement.
She could leave it at that. Perhaps she should leave it at that. But she feels like confiding in someone, and it can’t be Arthur.
“I don’t mean between us,” she clarifies. “I mean… in general.”
“Oh,” Merlin says. And then: “How long?”
“This was the first time since Ygraine’s birth,” Gwen admits. “And another few months before that.”
“Oh,” Merlin repeats. He sounds surprised.
“I take it Arthur hadn’t mentioned it to you.”
“No,” Merlin says. He taps his fingers nervously on her stomach. “He’s not going to be… upset about this, is he?”
They don’t have rules, exactly. They have discussed, in the past, what is acceptable to do when one of them isn’t present, and concluded that anything they would do if they were all three together is acceptable to do as a couple.
She is fairly certain, however, that when Arthur left for his diplomatic visit and insisted that Merlin stay behind to “look after her”, he didn’t have this in mind — them coupling in the woods, not even taking the time to remove their clothes, like a pair of youngsters who had just discovered sex. But still.
“No,” she replies. “Well, he shouldn’t. It’s not like I’ve been denying him. He could have, if he wanted.”
It must come out more bitter than she intended because Merlin shifts to better look at her face, and his expression goes wary.
“Is everything all right between you?”
“Yes!” Gwen hastens to reassure him. She feels suddenly guilty for making it sound as if it were all Arthur’s fault. “I mean, we couldn’t right after, of course. The midwives said to wait at least a month to give everything enough time to… to heal properly. And then we tried, and it was a bit of a disaster, and we thought we’d wait a little longer. And then…” she laughs, humourlessly. “I don’t know. We were always too tired, or Ygraine was crying, or we were not in the mood.”
If Gwen were being entirely honest and fair, and not merely indulging in self-pity, she would mention the couple of times she rejected Arthur’s tentative advances. She remembers tearing his hand away from her chest in annoyance, one night in bed, because her breasts felt heavy and tender, and the last thing she wanted after having her nipples gnawed on by a baby for what felt like an eternity was to have a grown man play with them. She knows she’s not entirely blameless. But it’s been a while since the last time Arthur even tried.
“I’m sure that’s normal,” Merlin says, reasonably, “after having a baby.”
“I suppose,” Gwen says. But she can’t help herself. “What if he’s not attracted to me anymore?”
Merlin laughs.
“I’m being serious!”
“No, you’re being ridiculous,” Merlin says, but he says it gently. “Truly, this time.”
“I don’t look the same,” Gwen insists. “You haven’t seen my body lately. It’s not the same.”
Tears prick her eyes. Of all the things to get upset about.
Ygraine has been the most wonderful thing to ever happen to her, and the most nerve-wracking. She loves her, more than anything and anyone in the world, with a frightening ferocity. She’d give up her own life in a heartbeat to save Ygraine’s, even if it meant giving her only one more day on Earth. She can’t bear the thought of a world without her daughter in it — and yet she thinks about it, constantly. Endless hours spent worrying about Ygraine’s breath stopping in the middle of the night, about her not surviving a fever come winter, about her wasting away when she refuses to latch on her nipple.
And, on top of it, all the worrying about not being a good mother. About doing things wrong. About not being enough. Now more than ever, she finds herself desperately missing her own mother at the oddest times. And sometimes — rarely, fleetingly, with a deep sense of shame — missing her old self; the Gwen she used to be before she became an anxious, imperfect mother.
Perhaps it’s simpler to fixate on the fact that her breasts are not as perky as they were, and her stomach not as taut, and her body not as slim. Easier to think about than all the rest.
“Gwen,” Merlin says, and he cups her face with his hand. “Arthur loves you. As do I. We’d still be attracted to you if you grew a horn in the middle of your forehead.” And, having said that, he kisses that very spot.
Gwen holds his wrist and closes her eyes. The ugly memory she’s been trying to suppress since they rode past the stretch of the river where Merlin almost drowned resurfaces. “I can’t believe we almost lost you.”
“No point in dwelling on it now,” Merlin says. In a lighter tone, he adds: “Besides, I’d say it was more than worth it. Such a passionate kiss, from such a beautiful queen? There are knights who would risk death a hundred times for the mere chance.”
“Oh, don’t joke about it,” Gwen says, thumping him weakly in the chest. She doesn’t feel like laughing at all. “It was horrible. We thought you were dead.”
Merlin sobers up. She buries her face in his chest, seeking comfort in the warmth of it, and in its gentle rise and fall.
Merlin holds her.
“I think I was,” he murmurs.
Gwen sniffs. “What?”
Merlin doesn’t reply. He remains silent for such a long time that Gwen starts to think she just imagined him speaking.
Then he takes a deep breath.
“I think I did die,” he says — not much louder than before but more assuredly.
Gwen pulls back to look at his face. He looks serious and… concerned.
“You think you died,” she repeats, slowly. Trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible, because Merlin looks like he regrets saying anything about it, and like he might deny it all if she sounds too sceptical.
He hesitates, then nods. “Possibly.”
Gwen nods back. “And… came back to life?” she offers, tentatively. Just to make sure.
Merlin rolls on his back with a frustrated sigh. “I know it sounds mad,” he says, but he doesn’t deny it.
“How?”
“I don’t know.” He rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps I’m wrong.”
But Gwen thinks back on that day. The image of Merlin lying on the grass, wet and pale and entirely unresponsive, is imprinted on her mind. She remembers his ice-cold lips. His unmoving chest.
“You weren’t breathing,” she says. To herself, more than to Merlin. “Arthur tried to get you to breathe again for… it felt like ages.”
She remembers Arthur violently thumping Merlin’s back, for the most interminable moment of her life. She couldn’t tell how much time passed before Merlin started coughing out water and sucking in air again. Enough for both Arthur and her to think him dead.
Merlin’s expression doesn’t change.
“There have been… other incidents,” he says. “Times when, by all rights, I should have died. I just thought I was extremely lucky.”
He smiles, but it’s almost mocking. As if in disbelief at his own stupidity.
“Are you saying you can’t…?”
“I don’t know!” Merlin repeats, sounding exasperated — but not at her. He sits up and buries his hands in his hair. “I’ve never told anyone. Not even Gaius.”
He’s not just concerned. He’s frightened. She can hear the hint of distress in his voice. She wonders if this is something he’s been secretly thinking about, mulling over the possible implications, or if he shoved it at the back of his mind, refusing to even acknowledge it, much like Gwen has done with her own memory of that dreadful day.
She sits up, too.
“It’s not really something I can test out, is it?” Merlin says. “And I’m not too keen to try, to be honest.”
“Please don’t,” Gwen says. She pries Merlin’s hands away from his face and she pulls him to her chest. Merlin offers no resistance. He folds on himself to wrap his arms around her and rest his head on her bosom like a child. She kisses the top of his head and pets his hair, and doesn’t say anything as silly as I’m so glad you’re alive.
She doesn’t ask him any more questions about the matter, either.
“This was lovely,” Gwen says later, as they ride back home.
She can’t even remember when she last spent time away from the castle without Ygraine. She feels invigorated. She wonders if she should feel a bit guilty about it, but Ygraine adores Iona, and it’s only been a few hours after all.
“I’d love to do this again when Arthur’s back,” she says. “While the nice weather lasts.”
“You should,” Merlin says. “I’ll look after Ygraine, if you’d like.”
Gwen shoots him an incredulous look. “I meant the three of us, of course.”
“Oh,” Merlin says. “Of course.”
He looks as if he’s trying not to smile too widely, and he mostly manages, but he starts humming an aimless tune, and he keeps it up all the way to the castle.
#i shouldn't even post it probably. but I wasted like 2 days on this (i'm very slow ok)#and i just want it out of my head#i'm busy for the next few weeks so i'm not sure when i'll have time to write more#so there you go. entirely self-indulgent merwen#contains: vaguely described sex; comma abuse#vignette 5 would be like. the merthur counterpart of this#if i ever get to write it (it's the hunting trip)#it only goes before this one for chronological reasons#if you care#have a good day#*#merwen
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Tavern in the Mists
Sapphire’s first Encounter with the Black Prince.
An inn, in the mountains, was not a hiding place Sapphire would have imagined. She would have picked a cave, or the deep parts of a forest. But she was not the prince of Stormwind. She did not have plenty of guards to look over her. As she climbed the stairs, she saw only one person, high on the rocks, with a crossbow in their hands. It was not the visible guard that concerned her, but the ones she couldn’t see.
If there was not active warring going on, Sapphire would have liked to spend a bit more time in Pandaria, enjoying the sights. It was nothing like anywhere she had been before. Horned goats grazed the short stubby grass that grew on what little soil was clinging to the rock mountain faces. Scraggly pale trees with thick needles sprang up stubbornly from the rocky outcroppings. The cold mountain air was a welcome sensation.
The Tavern in the Mists was a quaint little place. None of the few pandaren looked twice at the girl walking.
Not many people were in this Tavern of the Mists. Two fierce women, one orc and one human, were lurking in one corner. A few pandaren were at the bar. A man, heavy with Stormwind armor, stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to the second floor. Sapphire nervously approached him, pulling out a letter with fine writing and a lion wax seal.
“Hi, there. The Prince of Stormwind sent me this and-”
The stern guard just glanced at the paper before stating matter of factly.
“He’s in the room on the left.”
Sapphire nodded shyly and ascended the stairs. Another guard sat at the end of the hall, seemingly asleep. The one back down at the base of the stairs probably wouldn’t like to see that, but Sapphire didn’t find it necessary to sell out the poor guard. She went to the doorway on the left, and peered in curiously.
She saw two people sitting at a low table, with some sort of game going on. The splash of golden hair on the one whose back was turned to Sapphire helped her recognize Anduin. He moved a small piece from the game and leaned backwards.
Anduin could not see her, but his companion now took an interest in Sapphire.
Though he appeared human, there was something about him that made Sapphire doubt that he was one. He was similar in age to both Anduin and Sapphire, with dusky skin and even darker hair. The clothes he wore looked even finer in quality than Prince Anduin’s. He cupped his cheek in one hand thoughtfully. His eyes glowed a menacing blood red. His lip raised into an arrogant smirk. When his gaze moved up to her antlers, Sapphire felt heat rise up into her face. This seemed to amuse him even more.
“I don’t remember ordering venison,” He said in a loud, confident voice.
Anduin lifted his head, leaving his concentration. He glanced back. He recognized Sapphire instantly.
“Lady Sapphire!” Anduin started to say cheerfully...until he connected the dots to her and Wrathion’s comment. He whirled onto his commpanion, furious.
“Why...You should apologize immediately, Wrathion!”
This Wrathion character just leaned back in his chair and spread his hands open.
“I knew that would set you off.”
“Seriously, you insult someone just to annoy me?” Anduin said, voice raised in anger.
Wrathion’s smirk widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but Sapphire beat him to it.
“You should apologize. To Anduin,” She said.
This brought Wrathion’s full attention to her. He sat there for a second, just staring at her. Then he sighed.
“Dearest apologies, your Highness,” He gushed with emphasis. Anduin rolled his eyes.
Wrathion got to his feet and went to leave the room but stopped just at Sapphire. With him much closer, Sapphire could smell a faint hint of smoke and sulfur. She bristled defensively as Wrathion took her hand in both of his.
“Apologies to you as well. Sapphires are seen as promoters of good health and a symbol of innocence. An apt name for such a beautiful creature such as you.”
He leaned forward and kissed her hand, lingering for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, Sapphire saw Anduin scowl deeply.
Wrathion released Sapphire’s hand and glanced back at Anduin.
“I’ll let you too catch up!”
With that he left. Sapphire had a feeling there was something bigger going on, judging on how irritated Anduin looked. But he tried to hide it with a warm smile.
“I’m glad you are here! He’s been my only companion besides the guards. Oh, and Jasper.”
The Prince pointed to a little cushion in the corner of the room with a black ball on it. Sapphire immediately went over to the cat, who meowed in recognition. She stroked Jasper enthusiastically.
“He’s gotten big!” She giggled, plucking up the cat and carrying him over to the table. She sat down where Wrathion had sat.
“I’m afraid I can’t deny him anything. That includes the food off my plate,” Anduin teased. Jasper purred happily. At least Arthas would be less grouchy to hear Jasper was more than pleased with his new owner.
“Is the only reason you invited me here was you were bored?” Sapphire asked.
Anduin’s eyes widened. “N..no! Of course not. I thought perhaps you would enjoy a bit of Pandaria? You left so quickly the last time. I assume you didn’t linger.”
Sapphire shook her head, and glanced around at the unique surroundings she was in.
“I basically came, gave you that letter, and left. The journey up to here was quite beautiful. It’s nice and cold here.”
Anduin nodded. “There’s hot springs just out back. They’ve been wonderful for my recovery.”
Sapphire leaned sideways to look at his leg and the cane sitting next to it. She bit her lip.
“The pain is still bad?”
Anduin shrugged nonchalantly. “I have good and bad days.”
Sapphire knew all about causing pain, but not really much about taking it away, so she felt a bit helpless. Anduin seemed to sense her sudden mood change.
“I’m fine, really! I am lucky to be alive, thanks to the Light.”
Despite all the pain Sapphire had gone through, they seemed to pale in comparison to what Anduin experienced. What’s a broken rib, or a slashed face compared to near death and practically every bone in one’s body broken? She only knew what happened from secondhand accounts. He had not said much about it to her.
The Warchief of the Horde, Garrosh Hellscream, had been the cause. Sapphire wasn’t following the conflict much. The only “faction” she’d ever had loyalty for was the Scourge. Her old orc friend, Volugg, had once said Garrosh’s name with open disgust but he had still spoke of the Horde with pride. The sight of Anduin lying in a bed covered in bloody bandages and unable to even sit up, had soured her previously neutral opinion of the Horde.
Jasper jumped out of Sapphire’s arms and walked boldly across the table, knocking the flat pieces off the board. Hopefully Wrathion had not been too invested in that game. Anduin didn’t seem to mind. The prince reached out and Jasper rubbed his head against him. The cat pawed at him until Anduin picked him up. The prince held the cat up to his face and rubbed Jasper’s cheek against his with a smile on his face.
He changed his attention back to Sapphire. “Have you had any Pandaren cuisine yet?”
Sapphire shook her head, confused. This gave Anduin all he needed.
“We should order everything then! I love the bean buns, fish cakes, and of course the stir fry-”
He went on a tangent about all the different kinds of food. She let him. Nothing sounded unappealing to her. Anduin called in a guard to bring them food. After a short time, the small time was overflowing with all kinds of pandaren food.
Peaches, sweet and juicy, quickly became Sapphire’s favorite. She ate them raw but dripping with honey or inside the crust of a golden pie. Despite being in the mountains, there was fresh seafood. Poor Chompers and Ethan were missing out of good food. Sapphire imagined them back home in Icecrown, either suffering from Arthas’s cooking or resigned to military rations.
She reached over to grab some of the bean buns Anduin had complimented so highly, but was caught off guard by movement. A small shadow high in the corner of the room inched closer to look at the both of them.
Sapphire had only ever seen undead dragon whelpings, but some of them had enough flesh on them for her to connect the dots. Most of the ones in the Frostwing Halls had been of the blue dragon flight, but this dragon whelp was black as penguin feathers with a belly of honey. He glowered down at them with blood red eyes. Wrathion.
#story writing#story#fanfic#wip#my writing#writing#Wrathion#World of Warcraft#OC#Anduin Wrynn#rough draft
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another prompt from @blossom-adventures over in @nirnwrote land! the prompt was "that was a warning" combined with a sudden thought about "whatever happened to Maven Black-Briar's husband anyway?"
--
The minute Sophrine bent down delightedly to pet the goat–because really, who would have expected to see a goat on Solstheim? –she was greeted by the sound of an arrow whizzing past her ear.
“That was a warning,” called a gruff, Nord-accented voice from near the farmhouse. “You get any ideas about stealing, the next one’s going in your heart.”
Sophrine held up her hands in surrender, turning to face the man sitting on a bench nearby. “No stealing, I swear! Just goat-petting. I’m one of those animal-loving tourists you sometimes hear about.”
The man snorted. He was an older gentleman, rather good-looking, with silver-streaked dark hair and a drooping mustache. He rather reminded Sophrine of someone, though she wasn’t sure who.
“Don’t suppose you might be a customer as well?” he said. “Anyone in Raven Rock will tell you that old Sid’s goat cheese is the finest on the island. Well, the only goat cheese on the island. It is good, though.”
“I’d love to try some. I am a goat cheese connoisseur.” Sophrine took a few steps closer, squinting. “You look familiar, somehow. Did I ever run into you on the mainland? Or one of your relatives, maybe?”
“Doubt it,” Sid replied gruffly. “I don’t go to the mainland. You’re probably thinking of someone else.”
“Maybe, but I still think…that’s it!” Sophrine snapped her fingers. “Have you ever been to Riften? I saw a painting of a man that looks just like you, fellow named Siegfried…” Her eyes widened as understanding hit. “Siegfried Black-Briar.”
Sid went pale, but his expression didn’t change. “Never heard of him. Grand fella like that wouldn’t spend much time in Solstheim.”
“No, I imagine he wouldn’t,” Sophrine agreed. “Especially as he was eaten by giants fifteen years ago. Unless, somehow, he wasn’t?”
“If he wasn’t,” Sid said gruffly, “he’d have had a good reason for wanting folks to think he was.”
“Oh, I believe it.” Sophrine took a cautious seat next to the old farmer. “I can’t help wondering what that reason was.”
“Look, you’re not some sort of mercenary sent to harass suspected fugitives, are you?” Sid demanded. “I may be old, but if you try anything, I’m still more than able to defend myself.”
“Nothing of the sort. I’m just a deeply nosy woman who loves a good story, and it sounds like you might know one.”
Sid took a long swig from his mug and, resignedly, nodded. “I might know an interesting tale. None of it true, of course. Let’s say there was this young man, about thirty years ago, traveling around the Rift. He’d made a good living as a sellsword and was feeling ready to settle down, have a family. And then let’s say he met this girl.”
“Pretty?”
“As a picture. Rich family, too. One thing led to another, and soon enough there was a wedding and a few youngsters. Maybe along the way the wife’s parents passed and left her a tidy fortune. Sounds like a good life, eh?”
“The best! But I suppose it didn’t last?”
“Afraid not. The wife, you see, was always an ambitious one, and the money brought out the worst in her. She got involved in all sorts of schemes and scams, and it got harder and harder to remember she’d been a bright, likable young woman once. The kids weren’t turning out well either–how could they, in that kind of house?”
“That must have been hard on their father,” said Sophrine.
“He was a weak man, and it took him some time to wake up. Then something happened that made him realize he couldn’t stay.”
“What was it?”
“There was this family,” said Sid. “Nice people, traditional–worshiped the Nine, worked a farm outside the city. It was nothing very prosperous, but had a beautiful location. Well, the ambitious woman decided she wanted that land to build a new hunting lodge. She offered the family a good price, but they wouldn’t sell. So…” Sid shook his head heavily. “She turned them in to the Thalmor as heretics.”
Sophrine couldn’t suppress a gasp. Even for Maven, that was evil. “What happened to the family?”
“They were all arrested–the ma, the pa, even the little girls–and the house was burned to the ground. The jarl seized the land and sold it to the rich woman and for dirt cheap. That’s when the husband realized his family had grown rotten to the core, and it was time to escape before he himself was beyond redemption. And he’d have to disappear permanently, so his wife would never track him down.”
“I can’t blame him,” said Sophrine. “How did he manage it?”
“Luckily, there was a giant camp near town. One night the husband killed a troll and dressed it up like him. When he tossed it into the camp…well, giants don’t refuse a free meal. A few days later, when the guard finally investigated, all they found was a few bones, some clothes, and a wedding ring.”
“By which time, I bet, the husband was already on a ship.”
“Indeed he was. And–were he real–I imagine he felt free for the first time in years.”
“The life of a farmer would suit that sort of man much better, I’m sure,” said Sophrine. “Still, I can’t help but think: no matter how horrible they were, would a man like that ever miss his family?”
Sid gazed out over the pasture, eyes rather misty. “S’pose he might,” he said. “At least, what they could have been, back before all that greed and cheating. Even if he knows there’s no going back.”
“Maybe it’s for the best if they think he’s dead,” said Sophrine. “But could it also be for the best if a random stranger–who has a surprising amount of pull in Riften–were to keep an eye on them? She could make sure they don’t go too far.”
Sid offered her a faint, somewhat surprised smile. “Aye,” he said. “He might well appreciate that.”
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December 25, 20XX
What happened to Dess Holiday? Does it have to do with the mysterious doors everyone's afraid of in town? And what does Kris know that they can't share?
Low key inspired by @therivertm 's Dess Holiday Art-- plz give them love I love it so much it's cannon to me
I wrote a surprise chapter two!
Ao3 Link
.o0o.
“You are such a scaredy-goat, Asriel. Lighten up, will you?” Dess Holiday punched his arm with a snicker. “It’s just a bunker.”
“I am not scared, I just think your parents are going to want you home soon– we’ve been out kind of long, haven’t we?” Asriel tugged his thick winter coat a little closer to him. It was a particularly cold Christmas this year in Hometown– so much that even Boss Monsters like Asriel were starting to feel it too.
“Sounds like a scaredy goat,” Their little sibling, Kris joked with Dess.
“See? Even Krismas supports me. I mean– I get Noelle being all skittish, but you, Azzy? Oh my wounded heart,” Dess sighed dramatically. Kris snickered. Asriel rolled his eyes.
“Well someone should watch Noelle anyways,” He said, looking down at the smaller deer by his side.
“H-hey, I’m not scared either,” Noelle put her hoof down.
“Is that so?” Dess said, pulling out the bolt cutters from Kris’ backpack, then snapping the single lock on the bunker door. Noelle jumped at the sound, hiding behind Asriel.
“Noelle, stay with Asriel, you’ll be fine and safe with him. Me and Kris’ll just have all the fun, isn’t that right Krismas?” Dess elbowed her little partner in crime.
“Yeah! Me and Dess’ll have all the fun,” They crossed their arms with a smug smile. Asriel rolled his eyes.
“Take my flashlight, Kris. And if anything goes wrong, just scream, alright?” Asriel reached into his own backpack and handed Kris the flashlight within. Kris nodded.
“Azzy, relax. It’s an abandoned bunker– it’s probably just from Y2K or the Cold War or something– relax,” Dess tugged open the rusted metal doors, made extra difficult by all the snow. She wanted it to open all the way, but really only got room for Kris and herself to fit.
Asriel rolled his eyes. “Don’t take too long either, or else I’m gonna have to go get hot cocoa and then you’ll also be all on your own explaining to mom what took you so long.”
“Better get on it then,” Dess winked before going into the darkness.
“Be safe!” Noelle shouted, hoping Dess heard. Kris punched Noelle on the arm in a similar way Dess punched Asriel with a grin before heading down in the darkness too, closing the door behind them.
It was pitch black for a moment before Dess and Kris were able to turn on their flashlights. It helped, but only a little, still pitch dark in most areas.
“Some bunker, eh Kris?” Dess lightened the mood for the seven-year-old. Kris nodded in agreement.
“It’s a lot bigger than I expected,” Dess said, wandering over to the far left, hitting a brick wall. She traced it with her finger a moment before continuing onward, Kris following shortly behind, the sound of their water bottle swishing with each step.
Dess then picked up a rock, walking a bit and tossing it in the air.
“You know, I’ve seen some weird shit before, but this place does feel pretty weird. It’s less of a bunker and more of a… well I dunno, but it’s weird. Like a secret valley or town underneath Hometown. Sounds straight out of an 80s movie,” Dess snorted, adjusting one of the straps of her backpack– her baseball bat causing a distortion in weight.
“Yeah, this shit’s weird,” Kris said, adjusting their own backpack too. It made Dess laugh whenever Kris copied her like that. Noelle did the same thing with Asriel sometimes– it was like a sibling-not-sibling thing.
“Don’t go telling Ms. Toriel I said that around you– god knows she gets all huffy when I even say it around Azzy,” Dess reminded Kris of their rule. The kid nodded, zipping their lips and tossing the key.
“Atta’ kiddo,” She side hugged them. Kris snickered and pushed her away, and the pair kept on walking until they reached a dead-end ledge.
“Woah– wanna bet how deep it goes?” Dess smirked, tossing the rock in the air. Kris guessed ten million miles, Dess guessed seven before tossing it down.
She counted: “one, two, three, four, five, six, seven– shit, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve… Jesus– you might just be right, Krismas!” She kept an ear out, but even after waiting what felt like an eternity, they never heard a thud.
“Cool!” Kris seemed real proud of themself. Dess rolled her eyes and pulled their red horns over their eyes, causing them to quickly fumble to get them up while Dess laughed, careful to not let them go too close to the edge.
Dess shined her flashlight directly down, but all it shed light on was dust and dirt. The more she stared, the more she started hearing something… weird. Was it a whisper? A song? The wind?
“Hey Krismas, this was fun, but how's about you and I start heading back, hm?” Dess lightly tapped their arm, still unable to stop looking down. Kris looked down too, and Dess full on grabbed their arm.
“Kris, we should go, no?” She smiled.
“Why? You scared of the dark?” Kris smiled. Dess again rolled her eyes.
“You of all creatures know I’m not. But c’mon– Asriel was right, it’s getting late and your mother is the worst worry-wart I know– even worse than Noelle sometimes. Let’s go,” Dess gestured back towards the door– wherever that was, exactly. It was too dark to see it even from here.
Kris sighed. “We just got here though.”
“Yeah, well a void can only be cool for so long. Let’s get some cocoa to make up for it– my treat. How’s that sound?” Dess said, successfully getting Kris to follow as she started slowly heading back the way they came.
“Fine… but only if you let me get extra cinnamon– Noelle too,” Kris huffed and crossed their arms.
Good, at least they were listening to her.
They started back, marching onward and onward and onward and onward and onward… and on…ward– they definitely should’ve reached the door by now.
Dess glanced over to Kris– they hadn’t seemed to notice yet. Dess looked behind her– the void was still right behind them? That didn’t make any sense– they had been walking for like– at least five minutes, that–
A gust of cold air rushed behind them. Dess felt something cold and wet grab her ankle. She yelped, but before she knew it she was eatting dirt and being dragged away.
“DESS!!” Kris screamed, chasing after, desperately trying to grab her hand while Dess tried to cling to grass and rocks, but nothing worked.
“Kris! Get Asriel!! Get Dad!” Dess looked behind, but feeling Kris hold her hand snapped her away from that.
“Kris, let go!” She ordered.
“No! I–”
The pull turned lightning fast, and the two fell down, down, down into the abyss.
Dess grabbed Kris, shielding them with her body as best she could with that something still grabbing her ankles.
Before they hit the ground, the two were somehow separated though, as she landed on the ground with a thud.
She laid still for a moment, many many thoughts running around her head.
Am I dead? Did I just die? Did Asriel or Noelle hear me? Shit– is Kris dead too? Oh god– Miss Toriel is gonna kill me–
She sat up immediately, gasping at the sight in front of her; Kris was– blue??
“Krismas, a-are you okay?” Dess went over and shook her shoulder.
Kris groaned before sitting up, getting a glance at Dess and mumbling, “nice dress, princess,” before snorting.
“What-? I–” Dess looked down and realized she was wearing a blue robe with white star detailing– and Kris was dressed like a… knight? What?
Okay, now they had to be dead, because this made no sense.
👎︎♏︎♍︎♏︎❍︎♌︎♏︎❒︎ ☟︎□︎●︎♓︎♎︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎ ◻︎●︎♏︎♋︎⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♐︎♓︎■︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ❍︎♏︎♏︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎📪︎❾︎
“December Holiday, what a pleasure to finally meet you,” A voice in between a whisper and a cough rang between Dess’s ears. She immediately stood up and went for her baseball bat, gripping it tightly– not even noticing it looked more like a shard of ice than of solid oak.
“Who’s there?”
Nothing.
“I’m not fucking scared of you! S-so just show yourself already!” She shouted, her face red and hot.
“Me neither!” Kris added in support. Dess kind of hoped they’d shut up.
☞︎♏︎♋︎❒︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♌︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⬧︎♏︎ ♓︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎♓︎⧫︎◆︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ 👎︎♏︎♍︎♏︎❍︎♌︎♏︎❒︎ ♎︎♏︎♋︎❒︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎❼︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♎︎♋︎⍓︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♏︎⧫︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎□︎■︎♏︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ❍︎♏︎
“Fear would be very wise in your situation, December dearest. It’s not every day you meet someone like me.”
It was then Kris pulled on Dess’s robe and pointed to a– a tree? Down here?
“Get behind me,” Dess whispered. Kris thankfully listened.
“Someone like you, huh? And what would that be, exactly?” She spat on the ground– something she picked up from the guys at baseball practice.
✋︎ ◆︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎♍︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ❒︎□︎⍓︎♋︎●︎⧫︎⍓︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎ ♏︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎♏︎❍︎♏︎♎︎ ⬧︎♍︎♓︎♏︎■︎⧫︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎⑤︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎⑤︎ ✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ♋︎ ♐︎❒︎♓︎♏︎■︎♎︎📬︎❾︎
“I used to be practically royalty, an esteemed scientist… but for now… I am a friend.”
“Yeah, real friendly of you to hide behind a tree. Why don’t you show yourself, then I’ll decide if you’re a friend or not,” She slung the bat across her shoulders.
👍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📪︎ ✋︎ ♒︎♓︎♎︎♏︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎♋︎🙵♏︎⑤︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎ ♓︎♐︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♓︎■︎⬧︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎⑤︎
“Child, I hide for your sake… but if you insist…” The figure’s laugh sounded like it was drowning.
The first thing to wrap around the tree was smoke, then some black liquid–ooze thing, then skeletal hands that wrapped around the trunk, then on the ground and then a face– almost entirely perfect, except for the darkness oozing from his lip down his chin on his left side, and giant holes in both palms of his hands.
“Holy shit!” Kris shouted. Dess stepped in front of them while the figure laughed.
✌︎♒︎📪︎ ♋︎ ♒︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎❼︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ⬧︎□︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ✋︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ ♏︎⌧︎◻︎♏︎❒︎♓︎❍︎♏︎■︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ □︎■︎ □︎■︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎□︎⬧︎♏︎
“Ah, a human. It’s been so long since I’ve experimented on one of those,” His eyes had a glossy shine to them that quickly faded.
“If you want them, you’re going to have to go through me,” She held up her bat to the swinging position.
☹︎♏︎♐︎⧫︎ ♒︎♋︎■︎♎︎♏︎♎︎📬︎ 💧︎□︎ □︎♎︎♎︎📪︎ ⬧︎□︎ ❒︎♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎ □︎♐︎ ♌︎□︎⧫︎♒︎ ❒︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎ ♒︎♋︎■︎♎︎⬧︎
“Left handed. So odd, so rare for a child of both right hands,” He noted her position. Dess gripped the bat tighter.
“Are you gonna fight, or not?” Dess huffed.
👍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📪︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♌︎♏︎ ❍︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ □︎♐︎ ♋︎ ♐︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎●︎●︎
“Child, it would not be much of a fight at all,” Ifa skeleton’s smile could grow, his would’ve. He stepped (more like crawled? Honestly, his form was incomprehensible to Dess) and Dess stepped up too.
“Don’t you dare get any closer, or I’ll swing, and that’s a promise,” She glared. With a flick of his wrist, Dess was suddenly pushed five feet over, tossed to the ground, rolling with a thud.
“Dess!” Kris shouted.
☹︎□︎□︎🙵 ⬥︎♒︎□︎❼︎⬧︎ ⬧︎♍︎♋︎❒︎♏︎♎︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎
“Look who’s scared now,” The creature placed a holey-hand on Kris’ cheek. Dess sprang up, grabbing her bat again and running straight towards the man. However, when she was about to strike his skull, she became frozen solid.
✌︎ ♒︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎⑤︎ ✋︎ ❍︎♓︎⬧︎⬧︎ ♒︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎⬧︎⑤︎ ⬧︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ ◻︎□︎⬥︎♏︎❒︎♐︎◆︎●︎ ⬧︎□︎◆︎●︎⬧︎⑤︎ ⬧︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ ♑︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎ ⬧︎◆︎♌︎🙰♏︎♍︎⧫︎⬧︎
“A human… I miss humans… such powerful souls… such great test subjects,” More darkness oozed from his mouth.
Kris spat in his face. “Get your hands off of me, you creep!”
The man did not even flinch. Instead, he flicked his free hand, a glowing red heart appearing–
Holy fucking shit– that looked like a human soul–???
Kris seemed to recognize it too.
👎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎□︎■︎❼︎⧫︎ ♐︎♏︎♏︎●︎ ♋︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ♋︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎📪︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎
“Do not worry child, you won’t feel a thing for a long, long time,” He spoke, before his arm went directly into Kris’ chest, leaving them limp.
“KRIS!!!” Dess wanted to scream– but she was still frozen. Still– her rage built and built and built– soon she started burning red hot, and before she knew it, she was somehow moving– and cracked the creature's skull so hard it too started to ooze.
The creature made a horrific shrieking noise as Dess and Kris fell to the ground. However, Kris wasn’t moving– their body turning from blue to ashy gray. Dess panicked before seeing it– their soul. Dess leapt for it, but he got it first, grinning as he crumbled it to dust.
“NO!” Dess pleaded, before noticing the shiny red one that he was going to replace was still their–
Oh god– what to do, what to do–
She knew what to do– but god what would it do???
Dess closed her eyes, grabbing the red soul and immediately shoving it onto Kris as fast as she could, closing her eyes to shield herself from the brightness.
The creature laughed behind her until everything went dark again and–
Oh thank god, Kris was starting to regain color.
✡︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♐︎◆︎■︎■︎⍓︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📪︎ 👎︎♏︎♍︎♏︎❍︎♌︎♏︎❒︎ ☟︎□︎●︎♓︎♎︎♋︎⍓︎
✡︎□︎◆︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ ■︎□︎ ♓︎♎︎♏︎♋︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ 🙰◆︎⬧︎⧫︎ ♎︎□︎■︎♏︎
“You are a very funny child, December Holiday,” The figure was suddenly right behind her. “You’ve no idea what you’ve just done.”
“You want to fight again?!” Dess grabbed the bat and stood, but quickly became frozen again.
❄︎♒︎♏︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♏︎⌧︎◻︎♏︎❒︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ◻︎♋︎♓︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ■︎♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♋︎♌︎●︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎◻︎❒︎♏︎♒︎♏︎■︎♎︎⑤︎ ✋︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎⬥︎♒︎♓︎●︎♏︎⑤︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♑︎❒︎□︎⬥︎ ⧫︎□︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ⧫︎❒︎◆︎♏︎ ⬧︎◆︎♐︎♐︎♏︎❒︎♓︎■︎♑︎
“The Human will experience pain you will never be able to comprehend… It will take awhile… but they will grow to know true suffering,” He looked over at Kris like he was somehow proud of all of this.
Dess could only growl at him.
☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♌︎♏︎♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎♓︎♋︎❒︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ◻︎♋︎♓︎■︎ ⧫︎□︎□︎📫︎ ⧫︎♒︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎ ✋︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎🙵 ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ✌︎■︎♑︎♏︎●︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ⬧︎◆︎♐︎♐︎♏︎❒︎ ❍︎□︎⬧︎⧫︎ □︎♐︎ ♋︎●︎●︎📬︎ ✋︎♐︎ □︎■︎●︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♍︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ⬥︎♋︎⧫︎♍︎♒︎
“Little Star, you will become familiar with pain too- though I think The Angel will suffer most of all. If only I could watch,” He turned his head upward.
Little star? The Angel? Jesus christ– this was insane talk. She tried summoning the deep rage– that fire that had freed her, but alas it didn’t happen again.
The creature seemed to notice this, and laughed a little, chunks of black gunk flinging out, and onto Dess, burning at the touch like ice on salt.
✋︎ ♒︎□︎◻︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎♓︎♎︎ ❻︎✋︎ ●︎□︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎◆︎■︎📪︎ ☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎📬︎ 💧︎♒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♍︎♏︎❒︎⧫︎♋︎♓︎■︎●︎⍓︎ ❍︎♓︎⬧︎⬧︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎
“I hope you said ‘I love you’ to the sun, Little Star. She will certainly miss you,” He placed a bony hand on her face.
It was then Kris stood up, dizzy but still able to shout: “You get away from Dess!” with– wait, was that a sword??? In hand. The creature merely flicked his hand, flinging Kris into a wall– was that a real wall? Or a wall he made up just to hurt them?
Kris kept getting up though– over and over again, trying to get closer and closer to the creature. He tried to ignore it, but after a while, it gagged his curiosity. He watched as the human ran over and over and over again to save Dess. Meanwhile Dess wanted to scream for Kris to run– to stop getting themself hurt and go home to Asriel– to go and protect Noelle like that.
However, after about five or six times of this, the creature whispered: “☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎”
“Human…”
This caused Kris to pause for a second on the ground, and it was then Dess felt a pair of hands around her neck squeezing tighter and tighter.
Kris looked up with terrified eyes.
Dess kicked in the air, pulling against the hands with all her strength– but nothing helped.
“Jesus– not like this– not in front of Kris– not deep underground because of my own stupidity,” Dess prayed and closed her eyes as she continued to thrash and kick, even trying to bite.
Kris dropped their sword, and Noelle was dropped to the floor– which hurt her much more this time than the original fall. She could feel the bruises forming as she forced herself to sit up– pretty sure she also sprained her wrist.
👎︎♏︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎❍︎♓︎■︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♋︎●︎⬥︎♋︎⍓︎⬧︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♓︎⧫︎⬧︎ ●︎♓︎❍︎♓︎⧫︎⬧︎📪︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎❍︎⬧︎
“Determination will always have its limits, it seems,” He whispered more than said, causing Dess and Kris to both shudder.
“Y-you’re not indestructible– you and I both know that,” She referred to her handwork as she tried to stand.
In the blink of an eye, he was in front of her.
🕈︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎⍓︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ⬧︎♓︎♎︎♏︎📪︎ ✋︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ■︎♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎📪︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ♎︎♓︎♏︎ ♋︎♑︎♋︎♓︎■︎⑤︎ 💣︎♋︎⍓︎♌︎♏︎ ✋︎❼︎●︎●︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎■︎ ♌︎♏︎♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎●︎♏︎
“With you by my side, I will never, ever die again… Maybe I’ll even become whole,” His smile actually did grow this time.
“W-what do you mean–?”
☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎◻︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎●︎⬥︎♋︎⍓︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♋︎■︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ◻︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♏︎♍︎⧫︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎◻︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ◆︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✌︎■︎♎︎ ⬧︎□︎ ✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ♑︎♓︎♐︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎🖳︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⧫︎❒︎◆︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎◻︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⧫︎❒︎◆︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎ ♎︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎♓︎■︎⍓︎📬︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ❍︎⍓︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎♓︎□︎❒︎📬︎ ☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎◻︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♑︎□︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎ ◆︎⬧︎ ♋︎●︎●︎📬︎ 🕈︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ✌︎■︎♑︎♏︎●︎ 👎︎♏︎⬧︎♍︎♏︎■︎♎︎⬧︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎📪︎ □︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ♋︎●︎●︎
“Little Star– you’ve always wanted to protect and to help and to be of use. And so I am gifting this to you: your truest purpose– your truest destiny. You are my SAVEior. Little Star– you are going to SAVE me. SAVE us all. When the Angel Descends, you will SAVE her, once and for all.”
“Stop calling me ‘Little Star’! And I’m nobody’s savior!” Dess stomped her foot, getting more of his goop on her and burning her already throbbing ankle and hoof.
✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ♋︎♐︎❒︎♋︎♓︎♎︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎□︎♓︎♍︎♏︎ . ☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎
“I am afraid you do not have a choice.” He turned away towards Kris. “Little human–”
“GET AWAY FROM THEM!” She shouted, but once again, was flicked away and slammed– this time a cracking sound kept Dess on the ground as it suddenly really, really hurt to breathe.
✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ♒︎♋︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⍓︎♏︎⧫︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎📪︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎ 😐︎■︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎♋︎❒︎🙵 ♓︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♏︎♋︎♎︎⍓︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬥︎♏︎●︎♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎❒︎ ⚐︎◆︎❒︎ ✌︎■︎♑︎♏︎●︎ ⍓︎♏︎⧫︎📬︎ 👌︎◆︎⧫︎ ♎︎□︎■︎❼︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎◻︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎●︎●︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ⬥︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ❒︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎
“Your time has not yet come, Human Knight. The dark is not ready to welcome you or Our Angel yet. But don’t worry– you’ll know when the time is right,” He spoke to Kris, who was more focused on Dess and crying.
👎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♋︎♐︎❒︎♋︎♓︎♎︎📪︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎📬︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♐︎❒︎♏︎♏︎ ⬧︎□︎□︎■︎ ♏︎■︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎
“Do not be afraid, Human. You will be free soon enough,” He patted their head. Kris started to growl– as they often did when angry– and the sword appeared in their hand, and they swung for the creature– but only fell through, now covered in the burning liquid. Kris cried in agony.
✋︎⧫︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⍓︎♏︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎📪︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎📬︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♏︎♋︎♎︎⍓︎📬︎ 🕈︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎
“It is not yet time, Human. You are not ready. When you are, you will know,” The man shook his head, as if he was disappointed. Kris looked back at the man– their eyes glowing red like their new soul.
👎︎□︎■︎❼︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎●︎●︎ ♑︎♏︎⧫︎ ◆︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬧︎□︎□︎■︎ ♏︎■︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it soon enough,” He winked, before flicking his hand, sending Kris far, far, far, far away– maybe even back to the doors.
“KRIS!!!!” Dess shouted, her ribs immediately making her regret that as a stabbing pain infected her whole body.
👎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♌︎♏︎ ⬧︎♋︎♐︎♏︎📪︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ●︎♓︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎ ■︎□︎❒︎❍︎♋︎●︎ ●︎♓︎♐︎♏︎📪︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📬︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ □︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ♒︎♋︎■︎♎︎⑤︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎ ●︎□︎⧫︎ □︎♐︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♎︎□︎
“Do not worry. The Human will be safe, for now. They will live a normal life, for now. You on the other hand… You have a lot of SAVEing to do.”
Dess scowled and spat on him.
✡︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♑︎□︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♋︎ ♑︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎📪︎ 👎︎♏︎♍︎♏︎❍︎♌︎♏︎❒︎📬︎ ✋︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎⬧︎□︎■︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♋︎♓︎⧫︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♑︎♏︎⧫︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎🙵 ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎
“You are going to be a great Star, December. I personally cannot wait to get to work with you.”
“Noelle… Dad… Mom– I’m so sorry,” Dess whispered under her breath as she tried not to cry, lest the stabbing pains increase even more.
👎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ✌︎■︎♑︎♏︎●︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎□︎□︎■︎ ♏︎■︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♌︎♏︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎♐︎♏︎♍︎⧫︎📬︎ ☺︎◆︎⬧︎⧫︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎♐︎♏︎♍︎
“Do not worry, your Angel will see you soon enough, and then everything will be perfect. Just perfect.”
And everything went black.
.o0o.
Kris was slammed against the door to the outside, it bursting open the moment Kris touched the metal. The doors promptly closed the moment Kris was fully out. Kris paid no mind to all the pain they were in, banging against the door screaming for Dess to come back.
“Dess, please!!! Come back!!!” They pleaded, feeling their burns pulling and stinging with every movement. They tried everything– they pulled on the doors, they pushed them, they kicked, they bit, they threw things, and more– but by the time Asriel and Noelle returned with hot cocoa, Kris’s knuckles were now bloody and their voice hoarse from shouting. Asriel dropped his in the snow to go to his sibling’s aid.
He had to grab Kris and sling them over his shoulder while they kicked and screamed so they could get them to the hospital. The entire time Noelle was following behind, asking about where Dess was.
Kris couldn’t focus on much– they wanted to go back and scream and shake those doors again– they wanted to beg that creature to give Dess back– to explain what the hell happened to them down there. They didnt want to have to look at Noelle as she sat there and quietly asked every person she saw where Dess was with just her eyes.
Kris didn’t know– Kris didn’t know. She was– underground? Maybe? It didn’t seem like the real world though– it was different– it was darker, it was different.
Kris was a knight down there, and Dess was able to glow with blue fire at her fingertips as she lit her baseball bat on fire.
After doctors wrapped their hands and legs in bandages, Toriel and Asgore burst in, Toriel showering Kris in a bunch of kisses, asking Asriel and the nurses a billion questions, while Asgore gave them and Noelle a flower and tried to joke about their mother’s worry (which Toriel did not enjoy).
Asriel had tried several times for Kris to tell him what happened, but Kris just couldn’t speak. It was all so much. The power that thing possessed– it was mortifying.
Did they die????
The nurses whispered things to Toriel and Asgore– things that made them both gasp.
Noelle remained in the room for a very long time.
“Kris… i…is Dess still… there?” She asked, her hands folded in her lap.
Why the Holidays hadn’t shown up yet, they didn’t know.
Kris nodded a little.
Noelle’s eyes stayed low.
She waited for the doctor’s to stop talking before tapping on Asgore’s shoulder and asking to go out of the room for a moment.
Toriel was relieved to have him out, as she now had more room to be with Kris and Asriel. Toriel’s questions were less “what was going on” now and more “how are you doing? When was the last time you ate? Are you feeling any better? How did this happen?”
Kris wanted to fall asleep, but they couldn’t. That… that thing was in their mind now. Maybe even permanently.
After Asriel told mom to lighten up on all the questions, Asgore came in and told their mother that he was going to gather the other cops plus the firemen to go and find Dess, and that he’d be back tomorrow. Toriel sighed and told him that maybe his own child mattered more, but sure if he HAD to work on Christmas he could, and Asgore left with a sigh.
Kris didn’t like seeing them fight like that. Neither did Asriel– they could tell.
Toriel sighed, and announced she was going to speak with more doctors, leaving them and their brother alone.
Asriel pulled up a chair real close to the hospital bed.
“...You wanna talk about what happened now that it’s just you and me, Kris?” Asriel asked.
Kris shook their head. They still couldn’t explain it.
“That’s fair, I’m not mad,” Asriel sat back in his chair, his leg bouncing though.
“I…Is there any chance Dess is okay though..?” He asked.
Kris’s eyes welled up a bit as they shook their head.
“D-damn, I– I shouldn’t have asked,” He pinched his eyes to prevent tears.”That’s– I– okay…It’s– It’ll be okay. Dad and the others will save her soon enough– we know she’s down there somewhere, right? It’ll be fine,” He forced a smile.
Kris hated his forced smile.
“It… It’ll be fine– Dess will be fine in no time… poor Noelle though…” Asriel looked at the door.
Kris followed his eyes, and could see a bright red and green banner just outside their door’s window that read “MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!”
And that was when they began to weep.
“You are such a scaredy-goat, Asriel. Lighten up, will you?” Dess Holiday punched his arm with a snicker. “It’s just a bunker.”
“I am not scared, I just think your parents are going to want you home soon– we’ve been out kind of long, haven’t we?” Asriel tugged his thick winter coat a little closer to him. It was a particularly cold Christmas this year in Hometown– so much that even Boss Monsters like Asriel were starting to feel it too.
“Sounds like a scaredy goat,” Their little sibling, Kris joked with Dess.
“See? Even Krismas supports me. I mean– I get Noelle being all skittish, but you, Azzy? Oh my wounded heart,” Dess sighed dramatically. Kris snickered. Asriel rolled his eyes.
“Well someone should watch Noelle anyways,” He said, looking down at the smaller deer by his side.
“H-hey, I’m not scared either,” Noelle put her hoof down.
“Is that so?” Dess said, pulling out the bolt cutters from Kris’ backpack, then snapping the single lock on the bunker door. Noelle jumped at the sound, hiding behind Asriel.
“Noelle, stay with Asriel, you’ll be fine and safe with him. Me and Kris’ll just have all the fun, isn’t that right Krismas?” Dess elbowed her little partner in crime.
“Yeah! Me and Dess’ll have all the fun,” They crossed their arms with a smug smile. Asriel rolled his eyes.
“Take my flashlight, Kris. And if anything goes wrong, just scream, alright?” Asriel reached into his own backpack and handed Kris the flashlight within. Kris nodded.
“Azzy, relax. It’s an abandoned bunker– it’s probably just from Y2K or the Cold War or something– relax,” Dess tugged open the rusted metal doors, made extra difficult by all the snow. She wanted it to open all the way, but really only got room for Kris and herself to fit.
Asriel rolled his eyes. “Don’t take too long either, or else I’m gonna have to go get hot cocoa and then you’ll also be all on your own explaining to mom what took you so long.”
“Better get on it then,” Dess winked before going into the darkness.
“Be safe!” Noelle shouted, hoping Dess heard. Kris punched Noelle on the arm in a similar way Dess punched Asriel with a grin before heading down in the darkness too, closing the door behind them.
It was pitch black for a moment before Dess and Kris were able to turn on their flashlights. It helped, but only a little, still pitch dark in most areas.
“Some bunker, eh Kris?” Dess lightened the mood for the seven-year-old. Kris nodded in agreement.
“It’s a lot bigger than I expected,” Dess said, wandering over to the far left, hitting a brick wall. She traced it with her finger a moment before continuing onward, Kris following shortly behind, the sound of their water bottle swishing with each step.
Dess then picked up a rock, walking a bit and tossing it in the air.
“You know, I’ve seen some weird shit before, but this place does feel pretty weird. It’s less of a bunker and more of a… well I dunno, but it’s weird. Like a secret valley or town underneath Hometown. Sounds straight out of an 80s movie,” Dess snorted, adjusting one of the straps of her backpack– her baseball bat causing a distortion in weight.
“Yeah, this shit’s weird,” Kris said, adjusting their own backpack too. It made Dess laugh whenever Kris copied her like that. Noelle did the same thing with Asriel sometimes– it was like a sibling-not-sibling thing.
“Don’t go telling Ms. Toriel I said that around you– god knows she gets all huffy when I even say it around Azzy,” Dess reminded Kris of their rule. The kid nodded, zipping their lips and tossing the key.
“Atta’ kiddo,” She side hugged them. Kris snickered and pushed her away, and the pair kept on walking until they reached a dead-end ledge.
“Woah– wanna bet how deep it goes?” Dess smirked, tossing the rock in the air. Kris guessed ten million miles, Dess guessed seven before tossing it down.
She counted: “one, two, three, four, five, six, seven– shit, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve… Jesus– you might just be right, Krismas!” She kept an ear out, but even after waiting what felt like an eternity, they never heard a thud.
“Cool!” Kris seemed real proud of themself. Dess rolled her eyes and pulled their red horns over their eyes, causing them to quickly fumble to get them up while Dess laughed, careful to not let them go too close to the edge.
Dess shined her flashlight directly down, but all it shed light on was dust and dirt. The more she stared, the more she started hearing something… weird. Was it a whisper? A song? The wind?
“Hey Krismas, this was fun, but how's about you and I start heading back, hm?” Dess lightly tapped their arm, still unable to stop looking down. Kris looked down too, and Dess full on grabbed their arm.
“Kris, we should go, no?” She smiled.
“Why? You scared of the dark?” Kris smiled. Dess again rolled her eyes.
“You of all creatures know I’m not. But c’mon– Asriel was right, it’s getting late and your mother is the worst worry-wart I know– even worse than Noelle sometimes. Let’s go,” Dess gestured back towards the door– wherever that was, exactly. It was too dark to see it even from here.
Kris sighed. “We just got here though.”
“Yeah, well a void can only be cool for so long. Let’s get some cocoa to make up for it– my treat. How’s that sound?” Dess said, successfully getting Kris to follow as she started slowly heading back the way they came.
“Fine… but only if you let me get extra cinnamon– Noelle too,” Kris huffed and crossed their arms.
Good, at least they were listening to her.
They started back, marching onward and onward and onward and onward and onward… and on…ward– they definitely should’ve reached the door by now.
Dess glanced over to Kris– they hadn’t seemed to notice yet. Dess looked behind her– the void was still right behind them? That didn’t make any sense– they had been walking for like– at least five minutes, that–
A gust of cold air rushed behind them. Dess felt something cold and wet grab her ankle. She yelped, but before she knew it she was eatting dirt and being dragged away.
“DESS!!” Kris screamed, chasing after, desperately trying to grab her hand while Dess tried to cling to grass and rocks, but nothing worked.
“Kris! Get Asriel!! Get Dad!” Dess looked behind, but feeling Kris hold her hand snapped her away from that.
“Kris, let go!” She ordered.
“No! I–”
The pull turned lightning fast, and the two fell down, down, down into the abyss.
Dess grabbed Kris, shielding them with her body as best she could with that something still grabbing her ankles.
Before they hit the ground, the two were somehow separated though, as she landed on the ground with a thud.
She laid still for a moment, many many thoughts running around her head.
Am I dead? Did I just die? Did Asriel or Noelle hear me? Shit– is Kris dead too? Oh god– Miss Toriel is gonna kill me–
She sat up immediately, gasping at the sight in front of her; Kris was– blue??
“Krismas, a-are you okay?” Dess went over and shook her shoulder.
Kris groaned before sitting up, getting a glance at Dess and mumbling, “nice dress, princess,” before snorting.
“What-? I–” Dess looked down and realized she was wearing a blue robe with white star detailing– and Kris was dressed like a… knight? What?
Okay, now they had to be dead, because this made no sense.
👎︎♏︎♍︎♏︎❍︎♌︎♏︎❒︎ ☟︎□︎●︎♓︎♎︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎ ◻︎●︎♏︎♋︎⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♐︎♓︎■︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ❍︎♏︎♏︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎📪︎❾︎
“December Holiday, what a pleasure to finally meet you,” A voice in between a whisper and a cough rang between Dess’s ears. She immediately stood up and went for her baseball bat, gripping it tightly– not even noticing it looked more like a shard of ice than of solid oak.
“Who’s there?”
Nothing.
“I’m not fucking scared of you! S-so just show yourself already!” She shouted, her face red and hot.
“Me neither!” Kris added in support. Dess kind of hoped they’d shut up.
☞︎♏︎♋︎❒︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♌︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⬧︎♏︎ ♓︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎♓︎⧫︎◆︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ 👎︎♏︎♍︎♏︎❍︎♌︎♏︎❒︎ ♎︎♏︎♋︎❒︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎❼︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♎︎♋︎⍓︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♏︎⧫︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎□︎■︎♏︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ❍︎♏︎
“Fear would be very wise in your situation, December dearest. It’s not every day you meet someone like me.”
It was then Kris pulled on Dess’s robe and pointed to a– a tree? Down here?
“Get behind me,” Dess whispered. Kris thankfully listened.
“Someone like you, huh? And what would that be, exactly?” She spat on the ground– something she picked up from the guys at baseball practice.
✋︎ ◆︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎♍︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ❒︎□︎⍓︎♋︎●︎⧫︎⍓︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎ ♏︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎♏︎❍︎♏︎♎︎ ⬧︎♍︎♓︎♏︎■︎⧫︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎⑤︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎⑤︎ ✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ♋︎ ♐︎❒︎♓︎♏︎■︎♎︎📬︎❾︎
“I used to be practically royalty, an esteemed scientist… but for now… I am a friend.”
“Yeah, real friendly of you to hide behind a tree. Why don’t you show yourself, then I’ll decide if you’re a friend or not,” She slung the bat across her shoulders.
👍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📪︎ ✋︎ ♒︎♓︎♎︎♏︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎♋︎🙵♏︎⑤︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎ ♓︎♐︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♓︎■︎⬧︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎⑤︎
“Child, I hide for your sake… but if you insist…” The figure’s laugh sounded like it was drowning.
The first thing to wrap around the tree was smoke, then some black liquid–ooze thing, then skeletal hands that wrapped around the trunk, then on the ground and then a face– almost entirely perfect, except for the darkness oozing from his lip down his chin on his left side, and giant holes in both palms of his hands.
“Holy shit!” Kris shouted. Dess stepped in front of them while the figure laughed.
✌︎♒︎📪︎ ♋︎ ♒︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎❼︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ⬧︎□︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ✋︎❼︎��︎♏︎ ♏︎⌧︎◻︎♏︎❒︎♓︎❍︎♏︎■︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ □︎■︎ □︎■︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎□︎⬧︎♏︎
“Ah, a human. It’s been so long since I’ve experimented on one of those,” His eyes had a glossy shine to them that quickly faded.
“If you want them, you’re going to have to go through me,” She held up her bat to the swinging position.
☹︎♏︎♐︎⧫︎ ♒︎♋︎■︎♎︎♏︎♎︎📬︎ 💧︎□︎ □︎♎︎♎︎📪︎ ⬧︎□︎ ❒︎♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎ □︎♐︎ ♌︎□︎⧫︎♒︎ ❒︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎ ♒︎♋︎■︎♎︎⬧︎
“Left handed. So odd, so rare for a child of both right hands,” He noted her position. Dess gripped the bat tighter.
“Are you gonna fight, or not?” Dess huffed.
👍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📪︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♌︎♏︎ ❍︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ □︎♐︎ ♋︎ ♐︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎●︎●︎
“Child, it would not be much of a fight at all,” Ifa skeleton’s smile could grow, his would’ve. He stepped (more like crawled? Honestly, his form was incomprehensible to Dess) and Dess stepped up too.
“Don’t you dare get any closer, or I’ll swing, and that’s a promise,” She glared. With a flick of his wrist, Dess was suddenly pushed five feet over, tossed to the ground, rolling with a thud.
“Dess!” Kris shouted.
☹︎□︎□︎🙵 ⬥︎♒︎□︎❼︎⬧︎ ⬧︎♍︎♋︎❒︎♏︎♎︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎
“Look who’s scared now,” The creature placed a holey-hand on Kris’ cheek. Dess sprang up, grabbing her bat again and running straight towards the man. However, when she was about to strike his skull, she became frozen solid.
✌︎ ♒︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎⑤︎ ✋︎ ❍︎♓︎⬧︎⬧︎ ♒︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎⬧︎⑤︎ ⬧︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ ◻︎□︎⬥︎♏︎❒︎♐︎◆︎●︎ ⬧︎□︎◆︎●︎⬧︎⑤︎ ⬧︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ ♑︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎ ⬧︎◆︎♌︎🙰♏︎♍︎⧫︎⬧︎
“A human… I miss humans… such powerful souls… such great test subjects,” More darkness oozed from his mouth.
Kris spat in his face. “Get your hands off of me, you creep!”
The man did not even flinch. Instead, he flicked his free hand, a glowing red heart appearing–
Holy fucking shit– that looked like a human soul–???
Kris seemed to recognize it too.
👎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎□︎■︎❼︎⧫︎ ♐︎♏︎♏︎●︎ ♋︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ♋︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎📪︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎
“Do not worry child, you won’t feel a thing for a long, long time,” He spoke, before his arm went directly into Kris’ chest, leaving them limp.
“KRIS!!!” Dess wanted to scream– but she was still frozen. Still– her rage built and built and built– soon she started burning red hot, and before she knew it, she was somehow moving– and cracked the creature's skull so hard it too started to ooze.
The creature made a horrific shrieking noise as Dess and Kris fell to the ground. However, Kris wasn’t moving– their body turning from blue to ashy gray. Dess panicked before seeing it– their soul. Dess leapt for it, but he got it first, grinning as he crumbled it to dust.
“NO!” Dess pleaded, before noticing the shiny red one that he was going to replace was still their–
Oh god– what to do, what to do–
She knew what to do– but god what would it do???
Dess closed her eyes, grabbing the red soul and immediately shoving it onto Kris as fast as she could, closing her eyes to shield herself from the brightness.
The creature laughed behind her until everything went dark again and–
Oh thank god, Kris was starting to regain color.
✡︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♐︎◆︎■︎■︎⍓︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📪︎ 👎︎♏︎♍︎♏︎❍︎♌︎♏︎❒︎ ☟︎□︎●︎♓︎♎︎♋︎⍓︎
✡︎□︎◆︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ ■︎□︎ ♓︎♎︎♏︎♋︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ 🙰◆︎⬧︎⧫︎ ♎︎□︎■︎♏︎
“You are a very funny child, December Holiday,” The figure was suddenly right behind her. “You’ve no idea what you’ve just done.”
“You want to fight again?!” Dess grabbed the bat and stood, but quickly became frozen again.
❄︎♒︎♏︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♏︎⌧︎◻︎♏︎❒︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ◻︎♋︎♓︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ■︎♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♋︎♌︎●︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎◻︎❒︎♏︎♒︎♏︎■︎♎︎⑤︎ ✋︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎⬥︎♒︎♓︎●︎♏︎⑤︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♑︎❒︎□︎⬥︎ ⧫︎□︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ⧫︎❒︎◆︎♏︎ ⬧︎◆︎♐︎♐︎♏︎❒︎♓︎■︎♑︎
“The Human will experience pain you will never be able to comprehend… It will take awhile… but they will grow to know true suffering,” He looked over at Kris like he was somehow proud of all of this.
Dess could only growl at him.
☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♌︎♏︎♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎♓︎♋︎❒︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ◻︎♋︎♓︎■︎ ⧫︎□︎□︎📫︎ ⧫︎♒︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎ ✋︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎🙵 ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ✌︎■︎♑︎♏︎●︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ⬧︎◆︎♐︎♐︎♏︎❒︎ ❍︎□︎⬧︎⧫︎ □︎♐︎ ♋︎●︎●︎📬︎ ✋︎♐︎ □︎■︎●︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♍︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ⬥︎♋︎⧫︎♍︎♒︎
“Little Star, you will become familiar with pain too- though I think The Angel will suffer most of all. If only I could watch,” He turned his head upward.
Little star? The Angel? Jesus christ– this was insane talk. She tried summoning the deep rage– that fire that had freed her, but alas it didn’t happen again.
The creature seemed to notice this, and laughed a little, chunks of black gunk flinging out, and onto Dess, burning at the touch like ice on salt.
✋︎ ♒︎□︎◻︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎♓︎♎︎ ❻︎✋︎ ●︎□︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎◆︎■︎📪︎ ☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎📬︎ 💧︎♒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♍︎♏︎❒︎⧫︎♋︎♓︎■︎●︎⍓︎ ❍︎♓︎⬧︎⬧︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎
“I hope you said ‘I love you’ to the sun, Little Star. She will certainly miss you,” He placed a bony hand on her face.
It was then Kris stood up, dizzy but still able to shout: “You get away from Dess!” with– wait, was that a sword??? In hand. The creature merely flicked his hand, flinging Kris into a wall– was that a real wall? Or a wall he made up just to hurt them?
Kris kept getting up though– over and over again, trying to get closer and closer to the creature. He tried to ignore it, but after a while, it gagged his curiosity. He watched as the human ran over and over and over again to save Dess. Meanwhile Dess wanted to scream for Kris to run– to stop getting themself hurt and go home to Asriel– to go and protect Noelle like that.
However, after about five or six times of this, the creature whispered: “☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎”
“Human…”
This caused Kris to pause for a second on the ground, and it was then Dess felt a pair of hands around her neck squeezing tighter and tighter.
Kris looked up with terrified eyes.
Dess kicked in the air, pulling against the hands with all her strength– but nothing helped.
“Jesus– not like this– not in front of Kris– not deep underground because of my own stupidity,” Dess prayed and closed her eyes as she continued to thrash and kick, even trying to bite.
Kris dropped their sword, and Noelle was dropped to the floor– which hurt her much more this time than the original fall. She could feel the bruises forming as she forced herself to sit up– pretty sure she also sprained her wrist.
👎︎♏︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎❍︎♓︎■︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♋︎●︎⬥︎♋︎⍓︎⬧︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♓︎⧫︎⬧︎ ●︎♓︎❍︎♓︎⧫︎⬧︎📪︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎❍︎⬧︎
“Determination will always have its limits, it seems,” He whispered more than said, causing Dess and Kris to both shudder.
“Y-you’re not indestructible– you and I both know that,” She referred to her handwork as she tried to stand.
In the blink of an eye, he was in front of her.
🕈︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎⍓︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ⬧︎♓︎♎︎♏︎📪︎ ✋︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ■︎♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎📪︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ♎︎♓︎♏︎ ♋︎♑︎♋︎♓︎■︎⑤︎ 💣︎♋︎⍓︎♌︎♏︎ ✋︎❼︎●︎●︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎■︎ ♌︎♏︎♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎●︎♏︎
“With you by my side, I will never, ever die again… Maybe I’ll even become whole,” His smile actually did grow this time.
“W-what do you mean–?”
☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎◻︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎●︎⬥︎♋︎⍓︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♋︎■︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ◻︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♏︎♍︎⧫︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎◻︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ◆︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✌︎■︎♎︎ ⬧︎□︎ ✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ♑︎♓︎♐︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎🖳︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⧫︎❒︎◆︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎◻︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⧫︎❒︎◆︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎ ♎︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎♓︎■︎⍓︎📬︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ❍︎⍓︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎♓︎□︎❒︎📬︎ ☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎◻︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♑︎□︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎ ◆︎⬧︎ ♋︎●︎●︎📬︎ 🕈︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ✌︎■︎♑︎♏︎●︎ 👎︎♏︎⬧︎♍︎♏︎■︎♎︎⬧︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎📪︎ □︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ♋︎●︎●︎
“Little Star– you’ve always wanted to protect and to help and to be of use. And so I am gifting this to you: your truest purpose– your truest destiny. You are my SAVEior. Little Star– you are going to SAVE me. SAVE us all. When the Angel Descends, you will SAVE her, once and for all.”
“Stop calling me ‘Little Star’! And I’m nobody’s savior!” Dess stomped her foot, getting more of his goop on her and burning her already throbbing ankle and hoof.
✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ♋︎♐︎❒︎♋︎♓︎♎︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎□︎♓︎♍︎♏︎ . ☹︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎
“I am afraid you do not have a choice.” He turned away towards Kris. “Little human–”
“GET AWAY FROM THEM!” She shouted, but once again, was flicked away and slammed– this time a cracking sound kept Dess on the ground as it suddenly really, really hurt to breathe.
✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ♒︎♋︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⍓︎♏︎⧫︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎📪︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎ 😐︎■︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎♋︎❒︎🙵 ♓︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♏︎♋︎♎︎⍓︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬥︎♏︎●︎♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎❒︎ ⚐︎◆︎❒︎ ✌︎■︎♑︎♏︎●︎ ⍓︎♏︎⧫︎📬︎ 👌︎◆︎⧫︎ ♎︎□︎■︎❼︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎◻︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎●︎●︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ⬥︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ❒︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎
“Your time has not yet come, Human Knight. The dark is not ready to welcome you or Our Angel yet. But don’t worry– you’ll know when the time is right,” He spoke to Kris, who was more focused on Dess and crying.
👎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♋︎♐︎❒︎♋︎♓︎♎︎📪︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎📬︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♐︎❒︎♏︎♏︎ ⬧︎□︎□︎■︎ ♏︎■︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎
“Do not be afraid, Human. You will be free soon enough,” He patted their head. Kris started to growl– as they often did when angry– and the sword appeared in their hand, and they swung for the creature– but only fell through, now covered in the burning liquid. Kris cried in agony.
✋︎⧫︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⍓︎♏︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎📪︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎📬︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♏︎♋︎♎︎⍓︎📬︎ 🕈︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎
“It is not yet time, Human. You are not ready. When you are, you will know,” The man shook his head, as if he was disappointed. Kris looked back at the man– their eyes glowing red like their new soul.
👎︎□︎■︎❼︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❼︎●︎●︎ ♑︎♏︎⧫︎ ◆︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬧︎□︎□︎■︎ ♏︎■︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it soon enough,” He winked, before flicking his hand, sending Kris far, far, far, far away– maybe even back to the doors.
“KRIS!!!!” Dess shouted, her ribs immediately making her regret that as a stabbing pain infected her whole body.
👎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ☟︎◆︎❍︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♌︎♏︎ ⬧︎♋︎♐︎♏︎📪︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ●︎♓︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎ ■︎□︎❒︎❍︎♋︎●︎ ●︎♓︎♐︎♏︎📪︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📬︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ □︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ♒︎♋︎■︎♎︎⑤︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎ ●︎□︎⧫︎ □︎♐︎ 💧︎✌︎✞︎☜︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♎︎□︎
“Do not worry. The Human will be safe, for now. They will live a normal life, for now. You on the other hand… You have a lot of SAVEing to do.”
Dess scowled and spat on him.
✡︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♑︎□︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♋︎ ♑︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎ 💧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎📪︎ 👎︎♏︎♍︎♏︎❍︎♌︎♏︎❒︎📬︎ ✋︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎⬧︎□︎■︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♋︎♓︎⧫︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♑︎♏︎⧫︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎🙵 ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎
“You are going to be a great Star, December. I personally cannot wait to get to work with you.”
“Noelle… Dad… Mom– I’m so sorry,” Dess whispered under her breath as she tried not to cry, lest the stabbing pains increase even more.
👎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ✌︎■︎♑︎♏︎●︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎□︎□︎■︎ ♏︎■︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♌︎♏︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎♐︎♏︎♍︎⧫︎📬︎ ☺︎◆︎⬧︎⧫︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎♐︎♏︎♍︎
“Do not worry, your Angel will see you soon enough, and then everything will be perfect. Just perfect.”
And everything went black.
.o0o.
Kris was slammed against the door to the outside, it bursting open the moment Kris touched the metal. The doors promptly closed the moment Kris was fully out. Kris paid no mind to all the pain they were in, banging against the door screaming for Dess to come back.
“Dess, please!!! Come back!!!” They pleaded, feeling their burns pulling and stinging with every movement. They tried everything– they pulled on the doors, they pushed them, they kicked, they bit, they threw things, and more– but by the time Asriel and Noelle returned with hot cocoa, Kris’s knuckles were now bloody and their voice hoarse from shouting. Asriel dropped his in the snow to go to his sibling’s aid.
He had to grab Kris and sling them over his shoulder while they kicked and screamed so they could get them to the hospital. The entire time Noelle was following behind, asking about where Dess was.
Kris couldn’t focus on much– they wanted to go back and scream and shake those doors again– they wanted to beg that creature to give Dess back– to explain what the hell happened to them down there. They didnt want to have to look at Noelle as she sat there and quietly asked every person she saw where Dess was with just her eyes.
Kris didn’t know– Kris didn’t know. She was– underground? Maybe? It didn’t seem like the real world though– it was different– it was darker, it was different.
Kris was a knight down there, and Dess was able to glow with blue fire at her fingertips as she lit her baseball bat on fire.
After doctors wrapped their hands and legs in bandages, Toriel and Asgore burst in, Toriel showering Kris in a bunch of kisses, asking Asriel and the nurses a billion questions, while Asgore gave them and Noelle a flower and tried to joke about their mother’s worry (which Toriel did not enjoy).
Asriel had tried several times for Kris to tell him what happened, but Kris just couldn’t speak. It was all so much. The power that thing possessed– it was mortifying.
Did they die????
The nurses whispered things to Toriel and Asgore– things that made them both gasp.
Noelle remained in the room for a very long time.
“Kris… i…is Dess still… there?” She asked, her hands folded in her lap.
Why the Holidays hadn’t shown up yet, they didn’t know.
Kris nodded a little.
Noelle’s eyes stayed low.
She waited for the doctor’s to stop talking before tapping on Asgore’s shoulder and asking to go out of the room for a moment.
Toriel was relieved to have him out, as she now had more room to be with Kris and Asriel. Toriel’s questions were less “what was going on” now and more “how are you doing? When was the last time you ate? Are you feeling any better? How did this happen?”
Kris wanted to fall asleep, but they couldn’t. That… that thing was in their mind now. Maybe even permanently.
After Asriel told mom to lighten up on all the questions, Asgore came in and told their mother that he was going to gather the other cops plus the firemen to go and find Dess, and that he’d be back tomorrow. Toriel sighed and told him that maybe his own child mattered more, but sure if he HAD to work on Christmas he could, and Asgore left with a sigh.
Kris didn’t like seeing them fight like that. Neither did Asriel– they could tell.
Toriel sighed, and announced she was going to speak with more doctors, leaving them and their brother alone.
Asriel pulled up a chair real close to the hospital bed.
“...You wanna talk about what happened now that it’s just you and me, Kris?” Asriel asked.
Kris shook their head. They still couldn’t explain it.
“That’s fair, I’m not mad,” Asriel sat back in his chair, his leg bouncing though.
“I…Is there any chance Dess is okay though..?” He asked.
Kris’s eyes welled up a bit as they shook their head.
“D-damn, I– I shouldn’t have asked,” He pinched his eyes to prevent tears.”That’s– I– okay…It’s– It’ll be okay. Dad and the others will save her soon enough– we know she’s down there somewhere, right? It’ll be fine,” He forced a smile.
Kris hated his forced smile.
“It… It’ll be fine– Dess will be fine in no time… poor Noelle though…” Asriel looked at the door.
Kris followed his eyes, and could see a bright red and green banner just outside their door’s window that read “MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!”
And that was when they began to weep.
#deltarune#dess holiday#kris dreemurr#my fics#noelle holiday#asriel dreemurr#whumptober 2022#technically#fjdaskfjk;ads#i wrote this bc i love hurting people#angst#feels#tw violence#tw burns#tw body horror#i think???#idk gaster's weird like that#anyway darkworld dess when???#fuck it-- any world dess when????#my queen#love them#also asgore and toriel are THE divorced couple#god i love their energy#i wrote this instead of studying
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More B-Sides for @probably-some-goat’s Self-Insert Fanfic The Dragon and The Fox
This one got way longer than the last one, but I still kept it three stories to a chapter, so everyone’s just gonna have to deal with it. Also I gave each one a title.
In which we are experiencing the mundane
-Sharp cold, sharp stare, sharp blade-
Genji’s deadly stare stabbed across the market alley the four man Shambali crew had found themselves in, landing directly on Emile who was committing the heinous crime of standing within proximity to the ninja’s little brother, while Genji himself was stuck across the way from them besides his Master, Zenyatta, who was currently complimenting the craftsmanship of a quilt.
Emile had grown rather use to Genji’s protective stare at this point, and despite the Ninja’s seemingly endless collection of sharp objects on his person at all times, the human couldn’t help himself from wanting to see how far he could push it.
So here they stood, in their split teams of two, looking over bedding and blankets and pillows for Zayne, who had spent nearly an entire month now in what use to lay claim as Emile’s bed and room.
The plan was simple, locate a comfortable blanket and pillow set for Zayne that can still fit into Emile’s bedroom, as it is the only room in Master Mondatta’s house with proper heating (a fireplace).
Emile rocked on his heels to glance over at the beautifully knit fabrics Zayne was currently touching with the tender stroke of someone who cared more about a blanket’s texture than it’s warmth. He glanced again cross the way at Genji, who had shuffled only slightly down the road to keep close to Zenyatta, who was known to wander and get lost in the market if left to his own devices for too long.
A smirk crossed the mechanic’s face as he leaned barely a centimeter closer to the short man beside him. Genji’s shoulder’s tensed and his glare sharpened ten fold. If he could explode Emile with his mind, he would. This only encouraged him.
Emile gave Zayne’s shoulder a little nudge, the slightest brush, just bump enough to get his attention before reaching around him to point at another blanket, saying something just soft enough for Genji not to hear.
Oh how it burned the ninja up. His face was no doubt red under mask and fabrics he cloaked himself in to hide what human he had left. He knew Emile would never do anything bad to his brother, the little man was a monk blatantly and unabashedly in love with Zenyatta. He couldn’t hurt a fly. And yet Genji’s hand rested on a blade he’d put to his hip as he continued to stare.
“My student,” Zenyatta’s voice flinched Genji out of his spiteful concentration, the monk was holding two soft blankets, one white and one brown, “Do you think he would like these? They are rather soft.”
Genji glanced between the two blankets, the white one was covered in a hand dyed pattern of snow foxes, the brown one had one large image of a musk deer on it. Genji shifted how he stood to better face his master, with his left arm hidden from the view of his brother, he tenderly rested his hand on the fabric. It was soft. It reminded him of the blanket they’d shared as children, covered in a childish dinosaur pattern, the perfect amount of warmth for Hanamura winters.
Zenyatta tilted his head slightly as Genji gripped the blanket in his hand, a weak shaking to his grip. Before the monk could press his student, a call came from behind the ninja, the other group approached rather loudly.
“Winner winner!!” Emile shouted, as he and Zayne ran in tandem. Genji quickly hid himself in his robes once more and swiftly turned around. Emile and Zayne ran practically cheek to cheek, wrapped together in a thick futon draped over them, the two’s cheeks and noses red from the cold.
Zayne broke from the warmth of what is meant to be used as a mattress and ran up to Zenyatta, taking hold of the white blanket, “It’s adorable! And so soft. Where’d you find this?”
Zenyatta chuckled and began to show Zayne the stall he was looking at, the two chattering with the stall owner about her adorable patterning.
Emile, meanwhile, was left covered in a heavy futon with a blade to his neck, with Genji folding himself over the mechanic to keep the threat a little secret just between them.
Truth be told, Emile didn’t really think Genji would kill him if it came down to it. He wanted to believe that anyway. So despite the blade to his neck, Emile gave a chuckle and smiled up at Genji.
“Lucky find, huh? This futon wasn’t all that expensive either, and it’ll fold up under my bed pretty easily.”
“I’ll kill you.” Genji’s threat rumbled in his throat, and Emile did what he could to not take it seriously.
“Can we get your brother out of my bed first? I’d like to die comfortably in my sleep, at least.”
“Now now you two, there is a time and place for such brazen affection and the market is not it.” Zenyatta’s teasing voice chimed, followed by a laugh from Zayne. Genji quickly sheathed his blade and whipped around to face his master, glaring down at the monk for daring to insinuate something between himself and the foolish mechanic that would toy with his brother like this.
Emile shouldered past Genji, “Zen it’s cooooooold.” He whined, pressing his red fingers into the monk’s exposed shoulders, sighing at the immediate warmth from Zenyatta’s systems.
“You should wear gloves.” Zenyatta spoke, moving Emile’s hands to his cheeks, “Master Mondatta bought you gloves for this very reason.”
“Zayne’s wearing my gloves.”
“My gloves now.” Zayne wiggled his warm, gloved fingers at Emile teasingly, making the mechanic whine. He complained to Zenyatta about how mean Zayne was taking all his things. Zayne laughed and countered that Emile offered them to him. Zenyatta commented they should both give up their worldly possessions and live as nature originally intended.
“Naked?” Emile questioned.
“Precisely.” Zenyatta answered.
Genji watched his brother and Emile shove into one another as they walked, again wrapped under the futon for warmth, though now with Zenyatta as their walking heater in the center. He listened to his brother laugh, genuinely and joyfully as Zenyatta and Emile doubled down on teasing him. He watched him walk ahead back to the Monastery together with them, cheeks red from cold and from smiling ear to ear the entire time.
Genji watched his brother, despite the past, move into the future with a smile on his face and friends by his side,
and felt a little lonely walking on his own steps behind
-----------------------------------------------------
-Just Tea-
Zayne sat stiffly, legs folded under him in a seiza style, as he’d been raised and taught to do. His hands rested in clenched fists on his knees, which were held tightly together. He stared directly into the hot cup of green tea before him that had been served in a yunomi, no doubt an attempt to bring comfort of his home into the room, though all it did was remind him of a past best forgotten.
“Thankyou for agreeing to have tea with me, Zayne.” Mondatta spoke across the tea table, holding a cup of green tea himself, though unable to drink it.
“Agreeing” probably wasn’t the right word for this arrangement. Mondatta had caught Zayne off guard this morning after he’d finished cooking, just coming into the kitchen to talk to Emile about something, ask a question about something, Zayne doesn’t remember. He wasn’t able to listen well. Until his name was spoken, and Mondatta asked if he had a free moment that afternoon, if he might join Mondatta in his room for some tea.
It was an invite Mondatta meant to give Zayne a choice to, he could say no. But something about it felt more than just a chat over tea. It was a summon by the Master of the household, no more a request than being enlisted into the army. There was no other option. In Zayne’s head, anyway.
So here he sat over a hot cup of tea, shaking in terror for no logical reason across a short table from Mondatta, Master of the Shambali. He felt he might throw up. Maybe that would be enough of an excuse to leave.
Mondatta had clear, peaceful body language. He sat with his legs crossed in a burmese style, clearly not able to get up quickly if he needed to. His hands were visible, resting just above the table holding his tea delicately with his fingers, the palms of his hand resting on open air. He was still, even as he spoke, which normally he would punctuate with tilts of his head, he remained unmoving.
Yet despite all of this Zayne’s brain, bruised and battered by a man now buried six feet at the Shimada family shrine, still registered Master Mondatta as a threat to be on edge near.
Mondatta hummed softly, “I left the door open encase you felt the need to leave during our visit, but it made the room rather drafty. Are you keeping warm? These mountains can be rather brutal.”
“Yes, sir.” Zayne’s response came stiff and automatic, making him sound more robotic than the Omnic he sat across from.
“Good. Have you settled in well? My brethren can be rather excitable about humans, I do hope they didn’t overwhelm you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And that shadow of yours, he is doing well, I assume?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mondatta gently placed his tea on the table, and Zayne flinched at the sound, light at it was. He feared he may have done something wrong, responded incorrectly, angered the monk across from him.
“Well then, would you like to join us, Shadow?” Mondatta asked to the open door behind Zayne.
On the other side, against the wall Genji flinched at being caught for the second time now evesdropping on his brother’s and Master Mondatta’s private moments. His face flushed as he sunk to a squat against the wall.
“No thankyou...” He spoke.
Mondatta chuckled at his dry answer, “Ah, perhaps next time, then?”
“Probably not.”
Mondatta continued his light laugh, once again picking up his tea cup, “I see, a shame. Do let me know if you change your mind, little shadow.”
“M-.. Mondatta, sir...” Zayne’s voice croaked, his shoulders seemed a little less tense, and his shaking had calmed ever so slightly. He still refused to look up, but this little moment, hearing someone give Mondatta such a simple answer as ‘no’.. It reminded him this man was not Sojiro, was not an unreasonable tyrant, he was Mondatta, a man who can take a no.
“M-May I- Could- Pl-PLEASE EXCUSE ME.” Zayne finally said, much louder than he expected, leaning forward to bow, his forehead hitting the edge of the table with a loud Thunk.
Mondatta gave a soft chuckle, “Of course,” the monk had more to say, but Zayne got up and took off for the door faster than he was expecting, “Oh- But if you’d do me a favor,” He’d just barely managed to say before Zayne was out the door and around the corner.
The man turned to look at Mondatta for the first time sense he’d entered this room, the beautiful white robes and metal plating of the Omnic were now stained with tea from the monk’s and Zayne’s cups, both of which were tipped over and spilling out over the table.
“Would you mind seeing if Emile is free?”
--------------------------------------------------
-The Mechanic’s Morning-
“And where are you three off to?” Master Mondatta’s voice called at the steps to the main temple as three of his students escaped down the stairs.
Emile, the only human in the Shambali and one of the three escaping evening meditation early, came to an abrupt stop at Mondatta’s voice, and if it wasn’t for his compatriots grabbing him, he certainty would have tumbled down the stairs.
“Just escorting the human to the restroom.” Zenyatta, the smaller of the two Omnic runaways lied quickly, pulling Emile back to a stand, “You know how humans are with their. Fluids.”
“I see. And you both need to go with him?” Mondatta pressed, hands folded behind his back calmly.
“Yes, of course.” The largest of the three spoke. An Omnic of rare craftsmanship, Ramattra could be picked out of the rest of the Shambali crowd rather easily, “You are the one who tells us to never travel alone, Master.”
Mondatta gave a hum, in hindsight it was clear he wasn’t buying these excuses, but in a moment of compassionate weakness for his younger brothers, he allowed the three to escape without much more a fight.
The human, a little man with white hair and red eyes, no older than 15, darted down the temple stairs, his fellow runaways in toe. It may not be apparent by appearances, but the three were all the same, childish age at the time. They sat impatiently in meditation, and laughed running through the monastery streets, all as you’d expect children to do.
Together, free from evening meditation, the three climbed on the roofs of the monk village, watching the sun set over the mountains that surrounded their homes. They laughed and shoved free in a quiet village together, and when Emile tripped they’d laugh at him as they helped him up, and he’d laugh along with them, shoving his snow cold hands against the warmth of their metal systems.
But those days are over now
Emile yawned awake, finally back in his own bed after an entire month of sleeping in his work room. He stretched, and smiled at the framed photo of the Shambali group photo beside his bed, easily finding Ramattra in the crowd of Omnics.
It’s a good thing he stuck out so much, Emile thought to himself as he stood and began to get dressed, pulling on two layers of robes he’d been given from Mondatta. He glanced under his bed, Zayne’s futon was already neatly folded underneath, his blanket rolled into a nest for his invisible fox friend.
“Please excuse me.” Emile spoke, though he didn’t know if the fox was there at present, and scooped the empty candy rappers out from under the bed, throwing them into the slowly dying fire. He’d be sure to throw some wood in when he got back.
He met Zayne in the kitchen, eating a quick breakfast of toast with butter, despite the ninja’s offer to make him something more.
“I’ll be late to morning meditation. Are you coming?”
“Pass.” Zayne said, poking at his food.
“Good. Then you can start laundry.” Emile hummed as he turned to head out, running face first into Mondatta’s chest.
“Oh- easy there, my student. Are you alright?” Mondatta gently moved Emile back, checking him over quickly.
“Master Mondatta!” Emile beamed, more than use to banging into solid metal face first at this point, “Good morning! How was the sunrise?”
Mondatta chuckled, “Beautiful as ever. Heading to morning meditation?” Emile gave a nod that caused Mondatta to look him over again, “Have you already eaten? And is that all you are wearing? It is rather cold this morning-”
“I’ll eat more after meditation, and I’m plenty warm, we’ll be late, Master.” Emile reminded the worrying monk, pushing past him to rush out the kitchen door.
Mondatta watched the human go, then turned back into the kitchen, “Ah, Zayne, good morning. I was wondering, would you happen to be free this afternoon?”
Emile ran through the Monastery’s village square, passing already empty homes of monks who were on time to meditation, leaving only one still remaining.
“Good morning, Emile.” Zenyatta greeted, only just now stepping out of his house to get moving to the temple.
“Zenyatta! Good morning!” Emile waved as he approached, an attempt to slow down so he could walk along side Zenyatta was made, and unfortunately resulted instead in the mechanic tripping just a few inches from his destination at Zenyatta’s side.
Emile hit the ground with a hard splat, not an uncommon occurrence, and laid there still for a moment, listening to Zenyatta attempt at holding back his laughter as the monk extended a hand to assist him up.
As he took Zen’s hand, Emile glanced past the monk, “Still no Genji?”
“Still no Zayne?” Zenyatta countered, pulling Emile to his feet and assisting him in brushing the well trotted snow from his robes.
“No winner today, it seems.” Emile stretched, shaking the sting from his hands as he and Zenyatta began walking side by side to the temple.
“A shame. I was looking forward to hearing a song about what a good teacher I am.” Zenyatta cupped his cheek and shook his head to add a little extra drama to his dry comment. Emile laughed and elbowed him.
“Yeah right this bet’s hardly fair, you’ve had Genji way longer than I’ve had Zayne.”
“True. I am also a better teacher, I really do have every advantage.”
“Oh that’s it,” Emile gave Zenyatta a harsh shove knocking him into a snow drift on the side of the path, causing the small Omnic to vanish into the pile. The human laughed in victory, until a robotic arm shot out of the pile, grabbing a hold of the collar of his robe, and yanking him into the dirft with him.
The two laughed, pushing and throwing snow in the pile, missing the crunching of snow approaching them.
“Well, aren’t you two lively?” Asked Master Mondatta, hands folded neatly behind his back as he glanced down at the snow drift. “Come now, or we will all be late.”
Emile and Zenyatta both pulled themselves from the snow, still giggling slightly to themselves as they started down the path once more, taking turns stepping in and out of the footsteps their master left behind as he walked ahead.
Yes, those days are over now. They’re 5 years older, 5 years wiser, one brother less and two brothers more, but they still laugh when they fall and run in the streets and throw snow and fidget during group meditations, because they are still themselves.
And no matter how much time passes, they are still Mondatta’s precious family.
#Emile's Writing#THIS TOOK ME TWO DAYS AAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH#DFKJHGKDFJHKFDJKHDFJKG#HELP ME#Self insert#Self ship#Self insert fanfic#I got emotional at the end of the last one I'm sorry I'm thinking about Ram and Mondatta and I love them okay I love them a lot#All three of these stories were completely different yesterday btw#I came back and rewrote like each one because they were too long#And THEN THEY'RE STILL TOO LONG#HOW'D I DO THAT#Anyway I like writing self insert fic now but I feel like I'm oversharing so fjgjdfkg#I dunno if they'll be another B-Sides it depends on if anything in Dragon and Fox inspires me#Becuase this is starting to feel like cringe oversharing and we all know how I am about sharing my thoughts unprompted kfdjgkdfk#ANYWAY ENJOY
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2024 Lanzarote Spring Sun
Tuesday 9th April
Today was a busy day.
I had been asked to plan a route yesterday. A route to Mirador del Rio to see the sunset.
First stop: Lanzarote Aquarium. We enjoyed looking at the fish and the sharks and stuff. They had an ocean tank with Grey Sharks and a Zebra shark and another with blacktip reef sharks. It was an interesting place.
Lunch: We crossed the road after leaving the aquarium and went to the Grandfather Bar, which had a €6 burger/fries/drink deal. It was actually pretty good.
Second Stop: We had aimed to go to the pirate museum next. We headed into Teguise, and had to loop around once or twice to get to the entrance. Some dude was putting down a barrier and told us we couldn't go to the castle on the hill. We exited and entered a front yard with a billboard next door, and concluded that the museum went out of business a few years back and was turned into houses. We had to give up on the museum... :(
On our way to the next point of interest we came across the Stratified City. A city of volcanic rock, which has been weathered into all sorts of interesting shapes.
Stop 3: Cactus Gardens.
I'd seen this when looking for things to do and dismissed it due to the high winds. Dad and my little brother had also both dismissed it as probably going to be a little bit shit. It was amazing. The bronze work gates, and railings, the wooden cactus themed door handles, the volcanic stone walls and buildings. Not to mention the number of rad cacti that were there. We only had 40 minutes there, but it was awesome.
Stop 4:
We stopped in Arietta and Punta Mujeres to admire the massive crashing waves, which had already demolished the end of their pier.
Stop 5: Casa Museo de César Manrique
We then headed inland to the home of the island's favourite artist, César Manrique. He had some abstract paintings that weren't so well received amongst our number, but his home (a slightly eccentric renovation on an old Palm Orchard Farm House) was really cool. He had a massive conservatory window in his bathroom, but had then walled the outside to prevent onlookers. He also designed Mirador del Rio.
Stop 6: Caleta Del Mojon
Deciding that we had slightly too much time to kill to just go to the viewpoint, we ended up stopping on the side of the road near the coast. The black volcanic rock and the white sand were gorgeous contrasts. The waves were also breaking over the craggy coast reaching 40 feet high. My little brother, dad and I all went out closer to the waves, getting buffeted by the winds, the sea spray, little bits of sand, and the hot sun. It was awesome though.
Stop 7: Mirador Del Rio
We drove back inland towards the viewpoint. But it was (ridiculously) closed. Barrier down and all. We couldn't enter. We couldn't park (there's a one way loop). We couldn't hang around 90 minutes until sunset and my little sister needed to go to the bathroom.
Stop 8: Bar Folelé
We drove back south again to a bar. We had drinks. We tried some pumpkin pie, Grandma Pie and Goats cheese with fig. We then hurried back into the car
Stop 9: Mirador de Guiante
We busted ass getting to the Guiante viewpoint and got to witness the sunset from a fantastic vantage point. And we were relatively sheltered from the wind.
We then headed home in the dark. Ate pizza and then scurried off to bed.
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Eivu's Travels [Vintage Story; 6]
I started my second day by hunting food. Rabbits turned out to be a little too nimble for me so I mostly hunted a few salmon. My hunting was abruptly stopped, when I thought I could take on a singular goat. Turns out goats attack as a group and I suffered my second death due to my own hubris. But this did in-directly lead to two important discoveries: animal carcasses can be broken to get bones, and throwing the spear seems to do more damage than stabbing.
Soon after I nearly died a second time when I mistook a boar for a raccoon. Luckily I was able to survive the encounter.
The lifestyle of a scavenger seems to be somewhat profitable for gathering food as I was able to find a bighorn lamb who had died to fall damage. Unfortunately, these "crushed" corpses don't gives as much loot, and all I got from it was bones.
Turns our this place had been some mass-culling location for bighorned lambs as there were not one but five of these corpses and I walked away from the location with 2 red meat and 8 bones.
Hunting wasn't all I did, since I managed to find some turnips too. I am now one step closer to becoming a farmer myself so that I won't have to nearly die when I want to eat.
However, the true treasure still remained far from my grasp: clay. To aid in my efforts, I made myself a small scale quarry to hopefully dig up clay. Alternatively, all the dirt is nice to have so I can build myself a better way to get to my mountain abode.
As the sun began to set, I retreated back up my mountain and began to cook the meat I had hunted earlier.
Whilst trying to stack some of my granite rocks on the ground for storage's sake, I made an important discovery: Granite can be knapped just like flint, but it requires two granite unlike flint which only takes one.
With this information, I took the time given by the night to make myself a hoe, so that I could at some point start a farm and get a more secure source of food.
Having now read the farming part of the survival handbook, I figured that the roof of my house probably couldn't grow cattails without the use of a watering can (which I don't have atm) and so I replaced them with a spruce sapling.
Whilst trying to put torches down, alt-tabbing got the best of me and I died to a goblin creature. Now I have the very annoying job of running back to my house in the dark. Hopefully I can use Horace's wagon as safety
Thankfully I spawned on Horace's side of the lake. After a short period of being confused, I managed to make my way through the goblins and into his wagon. There I also learned that I can use the beds in his wagon for free!
Naturally I tried to steal them, only to be greeted with the message "No privileges here, claimed by Trader". You may win this time Horace, but mark my words. Those beds will be mine.
I also discovered that the dead goats I found earlier could have been a result of the goblins as when I woke up, one was busy fighting with a boar outside Horace's wagon
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