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#then sometimes orange before turning brown/gold/yellow !!
myxomycota · 8 months
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i was so excited to discover this log of Dictydiaethalium plumbeum yesterday!! i’d only seen pictures of this strange slime before but i wasn’t sure whether it was present in Aotearoa because it has no previous iNaturalist observations here. Upon further investigation i learned it was first observed here in 1915, and has only three other confirmed observations in the country since then !! I tried my best to capture the perfect bubblegum pink of the immature slime but its very reflective… oh and shoutout to its little purple springtail friend :-)
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ashintheairlikesnow · 6 months
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as diwali starts to roll back around again i can’t help but think about eli. i know there was a reference in one of his fics to holi (when i tell you i SCREAMED) and it made me so happy (I SCREAMED)
anyway. would it be possible to receive a little snippet about eli’s feelings this time of year? no pressure ofc i’ve just got the brainrot
(It's true! Eli was born and spent his early childhood in India, before his parents moved to the United States when he was twelve years old. His earliest memories take place in northern India - his family is from Uttar Pradesh)
-
When he turns all the lights out, the lamps flicker and dance with a warm yellow and orange, placed on small tables on either side of his bedroom door. The rest of the room is lit with candles only, but at the doorway - the boundary between his own space and the space that others inhabit every day - he has placed the diyas. He has more in the window, just two small ones, but still.
Diyas - the small earthenware lamps he has lit using cloth wicks soaked in oil, bought from a store where a woman had greeted him with grandmotherly familiarity and a lyrical voice that had nearly split his head in two with a powerful memory.
Eli had stared at her while she gave him cheerful advice on which brand was best on something - he doesn't even remember what any longer, although it must be one of the things he bought, because he didn't argue with her.
But it wasn't her he was listening to. It wasn't the flat florescent light of the store he saw.
He heard his mother's voice, saw her lighting the lamps, her hand on his head as he pressed against her leg, holding tight to the sheer fabric dotted with gold threads in tiny circles she wore over her loose skirt. He remembers it being blue, and that single detail hurts in a way he can barely breathe past.
She had dressed to go visiting through the neighborhood, where everyone else also had lamps and there was laughter and singing everywhere he looked, and the house smelled like sugar and spices from what she had been cooking to take and share, but they hadn't yet left.
Nazadeek se dekhen, Jairaj, had come the memory of her voice. Eli had frozen in the aisle, staring at the woman, her lips moving but his mind was years ago and thousands of miles away. Bhay par aasha. Andhakaar par prakaash. Kya aap dekhate hain?
He had bought the lamps in a rush - a half-dozen of them, without question. Then he'd ended up leaving with another two hundred dollars' worth of anything that made his head hurt worse, anything familiar. He felt like he must look completely insane to those who watched him, squinting against a migraine and sweeping what felt like entire shelves into his rickety basket, and yet he couldn't stop himself.
Somehow he wound up with eight separate chutneys, an armful of spices in what he thought must be the exact jars and brands hiding underneath his thoughts, waiting to break free. Coriander, cumin, cardamom, mustard seeds, fenugreek, fennel seeds, tamarind, ajwain, asafoetida, chiles, fresh curry leaves even. He couldn't stop. He found bread, not just naan but paratha, ready-to-eat, in a refrigerator towards the back, and shoved it into his basket as well.
Paneer, he remembered paneer, cheese so fresh it squeaked sometimes between your teeth. His mother would fry it until it was brown and he would come home from school sometimes to a snack of chili cashews and spiced paneer, along with her smile and her voice calling, Jairaj!
The whole damn store smelled like something he had once known as well as his own hands, and now was strange to him and he chased the memories, even as his head hurt worse and worse.
Next to the cash register, there were little plastic containers with familiar round balls of dough inside, soaking in syrup. Eli's voice had caught in his throat, and he had wordlessly shoved one of the containers at the cashier, who had given him a slightly puzzled smile and wished him a good day.
Sitting here in the doorway, enjoying the lamplight coming from the diyas, he pops open the plastic container, inhales the strong scent of sugar and rose, with a hint of pistachio.
He is absolutely going to pass out from the pain in his head, but not before this.
Not before this.
He reaches inside, picks up one of the gulab jamun, and bites into it. Tears sting as he chews and run hot down his cheeks. Behind him, thousands of miles east, thousands west, a lifetime away no matter how you measured it, there were people laughing just outside the window as his mother offered to let him have just one taste before they took the rest for sharing, in a neighborhood lit with a thousand lights in every window, at every doorway, declaring that darkness did not win, that evil could not vanquish good, that hope remained even after despair.
Maybe his mother is still sitting, somewhere, with her own diyas lit and maybe even with the rangoli in its geometrics and curves laid out in fine colored sand seeming to dance in the light. Maybe his mother still cooks to share with a neighborhood full of lights.
Maybe she thinks of him, out there, wherever she is. Maybe she remembers a boy named Jairaj, when the remnants of that boy no longer can.
Eli weeps. He cries while he eats every single perfect chewy sweet ball in the container, and for the first time he can remember... Eli prays.
He can't remember the right words.
But he hopes that the memory that he did know, once upon a time, is enough.
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rune-writes · 6 months
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Spruce Tea
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Word Count: 2008
Rating: G
Pairing: Cloud Strife/Tifa Lockhart
Summary: Autumn of 0002. An infantryman suffered an attack outside of the Nibel Reactor after protecting Tifa. Hoping to help alleviate the pain, Tifa climbs the mountain once more in search of spruce leaves, which her mother once said is good for one's health.
Note: written for @clotiweek 2023 Day 1: Spruce - Healing.
Read on AO3.
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Mother said spruce tea was good to for one’s health—
Tifa thought as she slowly made her way through the dead leaves littering the forest floor. Pick the ones on the lower branches, wash them, brew them. They used to keep a jar of it all year when her mother was still around. Tifa used to believe that was all her mother needed to get better, so she’d learned everything she could about the tree—where best to forage it, how to best extract its properties—but of course that had all been wishful thinking. No herb could save her mother, if modern medicines couldn’t. Still, the knowledge hadn’t all been for naught. 
Tifa adjusted the shoulder strap of her satchel. Nibel mountain in the fall always looked especially beautiful. An orange glow permeated the red-and-brown foliage, seeming to turn everything it touched into gold. The breeze was cool, rattling the boughs and their leaves and pushing the wide rim of her cowboy hat back. She pushed it back down, securing the cord more firmly beneath her chin. 
It had been a while since her last trek through these trees. Her lessons with Zangan would sometimes bring her deep into the forest, but she’d never gone this far alone. Probably that time when she’d climbed the mountain after her mother’s death only to fall down a cliffside. Cloud had taken the blame for it—the adults all saying he was a bad influence, none of them listening to a word she’d said. That had probably been the start of the rift between them. Not that she was particularly close with him before, but they were neighbors and their mothers were friends. She’d thought they could be friends too. But no matter what she did afterwards, the distance always remained. He was so far away. A glance here, a smile there; her father watching them like a hawk. 
The line of birches and oaks slowly gave way to browning conifers: firs, pines, cedars. The leaves were still mostly green, though Tifa could spot several browns and yellows. She took a path she vaguely remembered from memory, ducking under an especially low bough of fir. The spruce trees should be just around the corner, she thought. 
Somewhere ahead, birds chirped. A gust of wind brought the fresh scent of pine to her nose. Tifa closed her eyes and breathed it in. 
“Tifa?”
Tifa stopped in her tracks, lips parting in a half-smile. “Cloud,” she greeted, turning around and expecting to see a fresh-faced blond-haired boy— 
No one was there. She blinked, then blinked again. Light shimmered in the empty space, a circle of luminance on the forest floor. Her smile turned to a frown. Of course he was not here. She wasn’t seven. There was no Cloud to come and fetch her. 
***
The call had stopped Tifa in her tracks. She turned, then found Cloud in the space next to a birch tree, hand on the trunk as he bent down, catching his breath. Sweat glistened on his forehead. 
“Where are you going?” he asked through his still-apparent exertion. He held a stitch on his side. Tifa looked past his shoulder. She’d gotten well away from the village—she could hear no more of the afternoon din from the village square. Had he followed her all the way here? 
She turned back around and pointed in the general direction ahead. “Somewhere,” she said. She hadn’t actually been there before. Her mother had only told her of the spruce trees in the mountain. Tifa had seen the leaves kept in a jar at her house, watched whenever her mother took it out and ground them before brewing them in hot water. Her mother only drank it when the coughing fits were worse. She noticed because whenever her father came home and saw her mother in the kitchen with a cup in hand, his lips would always pull taut. I’ll make you tea, he’d say, ushering her mother to their bedroom. Now rest. Her mother always went without much protest. 
But then the fits began again that morning. The spruce jar in the cabinet was empty. Her father had been away so she couldn’t ask for his help. She’d meant to tell her mother, but when she’d peeked through the gap in her mother’s bedroom door, she’d glimpsed her propped against the bed frame with her favorite cream shawl wrapped around her thin shoulders. Asleep, or trying to; weary lines made creases across her pale skin. Was it just her or did her mother’s cheeks look even more gaunt than they usually were? 
An unwanted thought buried itself in Tifa's mind: that her mother’s health had worsened. So, Tifa had taken it upon herself to look for those spruce leaves up in the mountain. Not that she knew where they grew… She could probably tell from the shape of it, though. She knew them by heart. It shouldn’t be too hard. 
When Tifa explained her reasons to Cloud, she was met with a frown. 
“Do you know where those trees are?” he asked. 
Tifa’s lips pursed in self-defense. “I know they’re up in the mountain.” 
“The mountain is huge. By the time you found it, night would have fallen.” 
Tifa set her jaws. Her mother was sick. She wasn’t going to let her die. 
Tears pricked her eyes. She whirled on her feet, a new sense of purpose in her stride. But Cloud caught up with her, easily keeping pace. 
“I’ll take you there,” he mumbled. 
She cut him a glance. The frown was still there in the stubborn set of his jaws, but his rich blue eyes stared fixedly ahead. She found herself giggling and her steps slowing down. Pain she hadn’t noticed before shot up her legs, and she realized her shins beneath the hem of her white knee-length dress harbored cuts and grazes, the wounds welling red but not deep enough to bleed. 
“Here.” Cloud extended his hand, face angled to the side. With a smile, Tifa grasped his hand and let him lead her to where the spruce trees stood. 
*** 
The trees were where Tifa remembered them. Pride swelled in her chest as her memory indeed proved right. She circled the copse, seeking the right kind of leaves. Not too brittle, not too fresh. A little hard, seeing as most of the evergreen were already transforming to brown or red. But she found it nonetheless, amidst the yellows. Carefully stepping over treacherous ground, Tifa ducked beneath a branch and reached up to touch the hard, needle-like leaves. A small smile formed across her lips. She fished the flip knife from her bag and cut a hefty amount that should last ‘til winter. 
The sun had already moved halfway toward the distant horizon by the time Tifa returned to her house. The lamps hadn’t been lit; her father was still out. She crossed to the kitchen, slid her satchel over her head and placed it on the counter. Grabbing a colander from the cabinet, she dumped all the spruce she had gathered, then placed them in the sink and turned the tap water on. She picked away the dirt as she washed the leaves clean, trimming the dead parts out. Then she let them dry on a tray under the patch of sunlight by the window.
When evening fell, Tifa had already packed the leaves away in their glass jar right before her father got home. She already had their dinner ready, laid out on their small table. He noticed the tea. 
“What’s this?” he said. 
Tifa shrugged, feeling rather self-conscious. “I went out a bit.”
Her father sat down, grabbed the cup, and breathed in the scent. The rough lines of his face twisted in a wash of nostalgia. His lips wavered as he smiled, bringing the ceramic rim to his mouth and taking a sip. He paused, savoring the taste, or perhaps lost in memory. 
“It’s good,” he croaked, blinking rapidly. He reached up to wipe the corner of his eye. Tifa hadn’t noticed the tension coiling in her shoulders until she released it in a long, shudder of breath. Her father cleared his throat. “What’s the occasion?”
Tifa’s gaze fell to her dinner: mutton, grilled and coated in gravy, with a side dish of mashed potatoes and peas. “You…heard of the attack at the reactor…right?” Tifa began. “One of the Shinra men got hurt while protecting me. I wanted to make sure he’s alright.” She felt her father’s scrutiny, her own backlash rising at the back of her throat. Her father had been mostly lenient with her autonomy. He’d let her train with Zangan, explore the forest and mountain alone, and become their village’s official guide, but apparently, it was too much to leave her alone in men’s company, even though Tifa could probably break most men’s arms now with a flick of her wrists. She had suspected—still suspected—it was because of her fall, but that had been seven years ago, and the source of his ire—misplaced, though it was—was nowhere in town. 
The thought sent a pang to her heart. Two years and not even a letter to say how he was faring. Claudia never showed it on her face, but Tifa knew the absence of news from her son gnawed at her heart. 
“I was their guide,” Tifa said again. “I should’ve made sure the path was clear.” It was as much her fault, as the fall had been.  
Her father eventually conceded and Tifa beamed. When it was time for her to visit the inn, she grabbed the glass jar she’d set aside for the infantryman and kissed her father’s cheeks. Zack greeted her at the inn’s foyer. 
“Ah, you just missed him,” the SOLDIER said after Tifa told him the reason for her visit. “But I’ll pass your message along. Your well wishes too.” He meant to take the jar from Tifa, who had a mind to keep it and give it tomorrow instead. But it would probably be better for the infantryman to have the tea tonight, before duty took him elsewhere. She let Zack take the jar from her.
“Is he alright, though?” she asked. “I thought he’d be in bed for the rest of the day.”
“He’s made some good recovery, yes,” Zack said, then paused, noticing her pout. His face softened. “Don’t worry. He’s tough. He wouldn’t have jumped in front of you like he did otherwise. But I’ll make sure he gets the rest he needs. There was a prior engagement he couldn’t afford to cancel.”
Tifa nodded, his reassurance failing to quiet her concern.
“Speaking of, Tifa,” Zack said again, “about that boy you mentioned.”
“What?”
“The blonde-haired boy.”
Tifa blinked. In her quest to gather spruce leaves, she’d completely forgotten her email to Zack, inquiring after Cloud. Heat quickly rose to her cheeks. “Forget about it!” she said, a tad too forceful. She fumbled, hands waving in front of her. “I’ll, uh, just leave the recipe with you, then.” She crossed to the receptionist table, asked for pen and paper, and wrote down her mother’s recipe for the spruce tea. Zack had a smirk on his face when she handed it to him. It made her bristle, rather self-consciously. She ducked her head, murmured a “bye, then” before withdrawing from the inn, Zack’s quiet chuckle following her retreat. 
Outside, fresh, pine-scented wind rolled down from the mountain. Tifa breathed it in, letting it cool her nerves. Across the square, beyond the water tower where Cloud once made his promise, Claudia’s window-lit cottage sat hunched like a small giant next to her own two-story house, with smoke puffing out of the chimney and a pretty arrangement of potted flowers decorating the front. Maybe she’d give the woman a visit tomorrow. Who knows? Claudia might impart some more homemade recipes to her, not least of all her infamous stew. With a silent prayer to the stars for Cloud’s good health and well-being, Tifa slowly made her way back to her house. 
~ END ~
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bitchfitch · 1 year
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The man set the brown plastic bag of convenience store groceries on the gold gilded table. The rustle of plastic against plastic nearly drowned out the quiet whimpering coming from the room beyond. He sighed, and left his coat draped over one of the chairs after he fished the tiny sewing kit out of the pocket.
"Smiles?" he called as he stepped into their main room. His face twisted into a grimace as he saw exactly what he had expected to.
Grinning Thing was curled up on their lounge. Their face pressed tight into the crook of their arm with their favorite blanket covering their lower half.
Their back was ripping open again. The pale skin shearing in strips as they squirmed and twitched within their own body. The spindly legs that had pushed through the gaps shook and jerked, the tears bleeding a nearly clear gold. that drenched them and the velvet they rested on. Scrawny damp wings that were folded wrong flicked in an imitation of fluttering. Their bases still deep inside of Grinning Thing.
The man settled on the floor beside them, soothing a hand along the papery skin of their side until theirs came to grab it. Their fingers twining with his and squeezing their palms together in a weak quest for comfort. They coughed, a gush of slick blood poured from their wounds. The malformed and barely formed thing within them leaking out as it sometimes did. Long away was the day of their pupation, this was just another rupture and step towards it.
"Hurts," they whined.
"I'm sure it does," he squeezed their hand and pressed a kiss to their shoulder. "Will you let me sew it back up again? I have the pink thread you like."
They nod, wincing as they do, "Bath after."
"Bath after," he confirmed for them.
Taking his hand away from theirs he set to work. Carefully guiding the soft carapaced appendages back throught the holes they had punched through, before sewing each back shut in turn. The seams of past ruptures littered Grinning Thing's back, the pink and green threads stained to a sickly orange and yellow by their blood. They swore they didn't hurt, but the man would always doubt that. Grinning Thing jumped too much when he kissed along one for him to believe they were numb.
Their breathing eased, their coughing quieted. The man wiped his hands on his ancient jeans and stood to pick them up. They weighed far less than they looked like they should, like they were hollow and only skin thick.
They let their head rest on his shoulder, their hair greasy with sweat and their frozen face stained with tears. They couldn't close their eyes, but he'd learned to see the specific softness in the muscles of their face and the droop of their thin brows to know when they'd fallen asleep.
They liked baths with bubbles and fizzy bath bombs. Water so hot it left burns on his skin. He knew they were far too exhausted to enjoy any of it. He shouldered his way into their room. The massive king bed in the center welcomed Grinning Thing into it with a puff of the overly soft sheets and thick comforter. He pulled a blanket over them, put the silly little stuffed dog he'd won for them at an arcade against their side, and pressed a kiss to their forehead before stepping away and closing the door with a soft click.
The mess on them would be a bitch to get out of the bedding later, but for now they could rest and recover while he got dinner ready for them both.
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faithfulcat111 · 1 month
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The Color Series
So @throttlegainwell asked for some BTS on my color series and I am, of course, more than happy to provide :D
I think I want to talk about my color choices because I've talked briefly about one character and no one else's.
So, like six months ago now, I posted my Across the Vale series, which was character sheets for a DnD AU I had made of Stranger Things. Which was loads of fun to construct. And that is where I got many of my colors for the color series from. But, not all of them. Because I had, at the time, all the hex codes for the colors written down on a few different post-it notes and they were randomly picked based on vibes.
When I started the color series itself, I needed proper color names. So I started with those hex codes and looked up each one to get the color name. I have like three different sources I used to get color names from and I kept most of the colors. But, not all of them. Because some of them just... were not great. For example, only two of Jonathan's colors were roll-overs as two of them were just way too close together (as it turned out) and the fourth was University of California Gold. And as much as I laughed when that came up, I was not using that.
Now the DnD series had only four colors each, so everyone who had a DnD sheet got a bonus fifth color and from that I picked one where I liked the color name. If I didn't like the color name, I would pick something that was a similar shade to one that was dropped.
That worked overall. Many characters got colors similar to their color vibe in the show. Purple for Nancy, blue for Steve and Mike, yellow for Will, brown for Jonathan. The other kids don't have "colors" but I picked green for Lucas, red for Max, and orange for Dustin because the vibes. Joyce (which I've talked about somewhere before) got a blend of Jonathan and Will, also being very earth-toned. For El, I wanted to make her more faded cause she is still learning who she is. So she has purple and pink (mainly pink) tones, but they are very grey-leaning. I did something similar for Hopper to tie them together, green but very grey-leaning.
Robin, Argyle, and Erica got way more fun vibes. Robin's is quite literally the lesbian flag. I pulled the hex codes initially directly from it. I wanted Argyle to similarly be very fun colored, some of his are from the pansexual flag, but they are overall very bright and fun. For Erica, I experimented a bit and many of her colors are pulled from her outfits leading to fun array of colors as well. Dmitri, well, I intended him to be the Russian flag. It was an accident he ended up so bisexual themed XD
Everyone else got one color assigned to them. They didn't have color sheets, so I was starting everyone else from scratch. I would think of what color generally fit them and then go through my color name sheets and find a color name that fit them. Lots of scrolling and searching. With some, I did follow the Erica route and pull the color from something they wore, like Chrissy and Heather. Some were pure vibes like Eddie or Karen. I still have the huge list saved of everyone's color assignments.
One thing I did try to do when making the sets is make sure no one had the same middle blend color. Sometimes, with the larger sets, the second or fourth would be the same somewhere. But the middle one was always unique. This was quite a challenge sometimes. With the characters with multiple colors, I would just change out the color they were for another when I noticed the blended color was the same. Photocheer was actually very difficult because of this. I think using the color Rabbit for the Jonathan side was my second-to-last choice. I really struggled with it. But I have a second list of all my blended sets and their colors. And as I made more and more, I started having to ctrl+find to make sure the color wasn't used elsewhere already. Cause many of the sets I posted in January were already made before I started making the sets I posted in December. So it became a problem really early on in the posting process. I think I managed to pull off never using the same photo twice as well, but I could be wrong.
One type of set for this series that I'm actually kind of sad that I haven't made is any friendship sets between the main teens and the kids outside of siblings and group sets. But it is a kind of set I would want to make equal and there just isn't good interaction between some characters that I would be able to justify to myself.
I hope that works as those are some of my thoughts on making this series! I am happy to go into more of any specific part if anyone has any further questions. This series really was a labor of love and it introduced me to so many ships. Like holy cow... But also, I hope I got to introduce some to you guys too.
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stesierra · 3 months
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ROYGBIV Tag! @starbuds-and-rosedust tagged me!
Tagging @dyrewrites and @alnaperera and anyone else who's interested!
Rules: Search your your writing for the colours of the rainbow and post the excerpt.
I pulled from Cast Out.
red
The sky glowed red. Red, as the sun set and winked in and out of the clouds like the twitching of a nervous eye. It caught the plumes of smoke that rose from the desert. From the cities. From the mountains. It carried the caramel sweet scent of meat cooking, although I'd rarely smelled it – only once, when a farm elp had died of old age and the whole city had split its flesh among themselves, so it wouldn't go to waste. My parents had brought home a whole pound, and baked it with our lentils and goat-cheese.
I tried to look down, to find the fire, and was swept into the sky like a dizzy bird. I think I threw up, somewhere over the highest peak in the world.
orange
Sefi reared up and nipped her nose.
Thesil jumped, her mouth opening in a startled o. Sefi tumbled from her arms to the ground, achieving a half-graceful landing. The pleased goose pottered about my ankles, preening her wings and tail. My scolding did nothing to dissuade her.
"It's all right," Thesil signed once she stopped holding her nose. "My ducks did that sometimes."
I remembered, then, our discussion when we first met. "Three ducks."
Thesil went back to talking, as if she didn't know the signs for what she wanted to say. "I raised them from ducklings. They were gold and blue when they grew up, with brown bellies. Fat little things, always begging for scraps."
Lira had paused to wait for us. I started walking again, Sefi trailing at my heels. "Did they live in the house with you?"
"The garden. We had a marble pond filled with orange box-minnows and tiny golden crabs, and the ducks swam out there. Father was always annoyed when they shed feathers all over the grounds."
"We always diapered Sefi. We didn't have anywhere to keep her but inside."
"She must've missed swimming."
I smiled. "She would join me in the bath."
yellow
I reached the wagon at the same time as Abursa. She nodded to me and turned to say something to the perfecta man. He pulled the tarpaulin off the wagon bed with a flourish.
A wooden donkey lay on its side in the wagon, its legs longer and more graceful than any real beast's, its ears feather-plumes, its eyes balls of swirling glass. Its torso shattered by some massive impact that had smashed wood and cut a hole as long as my arm.
I caught a glimpse of the exposed core, glowing a subdued ugly yellow, before the scent of the oracle ore hit me. I staggered forward, visions creeping in at the edge of my sight, and fell to my knees beside the wagon.
green
The door opened under the woman's unblemished hand. Holy Efra vanished into its darkness. Her attendants followed. I hung outside, like a moth floating in her wake. A fragrance filled the air. Oracle ore. I forced myself forward and followed Holy Efra in.
She sat on a low wooden couch, her boots folded under her thighs, the lamp on the wood next to her. The attendants stood to either side of her couch. The room had no windows, no skylight, no other doors. The walls were stacked with cedar boxes. They smelled like sap and earth. They smelled like ore. I wanted to stay forever.
Holy Efra leaned out and picked one up. The lid slid away under her fingers. The box was velvet-lined, and empty.
One of the men pulled a great chest from underneath her couch and slid it in front of her. It was metal, big and solid enough to be a casket. It took both men to lift the lid. It tipped off, and when it landed the stack of cedar boxes trembled. Powder, green and glowing and fine as flour, filled the casket to its brim. It lit the ceiling and the chins of the shaking attendants with a green aura. Holy Efra did not shake. She reached out and ran her fingers through it. Her eyes looked into the distance, like she could see through the wall. Like she could see me.
The ore smelled so strongly I felt as though someone had pulled me apart and rebuilt me out of the scent. It was heady, empowering, irresistible. I should have fallen into visions within visions. But I didn't.
blue
When I woke, I was upside down.
The blood rushed to my head, making my face throb. But only parts of it. My cheek pressed into the weave of a net, which left numb squares across my skin. I tried to lift my head, but my weight twisted my neck and jammed my skull against my shoulder. I couldn't move, not even to free the pinched hair that pulled at my scalp. From the way I swayed when I attempted to wriggle, and the breeze that stirred against my skin, I guessed that Amaz had strung me from a tree.
All I could see was a patch of cracked earth below me and a beetle crawling on a single dead plant stem. It was speckled blue, except for its long black legs.
indigo
Couldn't find it.
violet
Couldn't find it .
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the-tigr0u · 1 year
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【𝐶𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝐶𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑖】
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♔〘IƊƐƝƬIƬƳ   RҼƇƠRƊ〙♔
F U L L  N A M E
-Ciara Livia Cocanovacci-
N I C K N A M E S
-The SunBird-
-The FireBird-
N A T I O N A L I T Y
-French-Italian-
G E N D E R
-Woman-
S P E C I E S
-Human-
A V A T A R
-Ra, Solar God and Creator of the Universe-
-She’s his avatar since 3 years now-
A G E
-26 y.o.-
B I R T H D A Y
-23 of August-
A S T R O L O G I C A L  S I G N
-♍︎ Virgo ♍︎-
F A M I L Y
-Franco Cocanovacci (Father♱)-
-Elise Cocanovacci (Mother♱)-
-Patience Aurora Cocanovacci (Little sister)-
R E L A T I O N S H I P  S T A T U T
-Single-
-Moderately easy to have in a relationship, as she’s very shy and reserved-
-She never had anyone in her life before-
P R O F E S S I O N A L  S T A T U T
-Paleontologist and Archaeologist, as well as Cryptozoologist-
-Work for several different museums and is therefore required to attend many excavations-
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" -  A n d  i f  I  o n l y  c o u l d   -
-  M a k e  a  d e a l  w i t h  G o d  -
-  A n d  g e t  h i m  t o  s w a p  o u r  p l a c e s  - "
♔〘  lƠƠƘՏ 〙♔
H A I R
-Naturally dark brown-
-Short plunging square haircut with a bang-
-Colored in gradient at the tips, from yellow to red-
-Can still tie up her hair-
E Y E S
-Brown-
-Big, bright and curious gaze-
-Wears round glasses-
-Turns white when she wears her costume-
S K I N
-Porcelain and soft-
H E I G H T
-1m62  (5,3 ft.)-
W E I G H T
-///-
C O R P U L E N C E
-Chubby-
-Generous curves-
-Relatively small and discreet-
S C A R S / M A R K S
-On the right hip-
-On the right ankle-
-A burn on the left scapula-
T A T O O S
-None-
P I E R C I N G S
-Lobe from both sides-
C L O T H I N G  S T Y L E
-Loose and comfortable clothes-
-Often clothes with wide sleeves-
-Is very fond of the Pin-Up style-
-Loves cute or quirky jewelry-
-Love to dress up for different parties (Halloween, Christmas, etc.)-
-May wear dresses, but on very rare occasions-
-Ra's costume is made up of a lot of gold, jewelry, rings and bracelets, but also a crown with a stone representing the sun with a snake wrapped around it, like the crown of Ra-
-The suit contains a lot of gold, some gems, and its colors are mostly warm, like orange and yellow-
-Her mask represents falcon’s head, the mask however completely hides her sight, she wears it only when she fights, as she becomes blind and is guided by Ra himself-
-She can also wear big wings-
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"  - O h ,  I  h o p e  s o m e  d a y  I ' l l  m a k e  i t  o u t  o f  h e r e  -
-  E v e n  i f  i t  t a k e s  a l l  n i g h t  o r  a  h u n d r e d  y e a r s  -
-  N e e d  a  p l a c e  t o  h i d e ,  b u t  I  c a n ' t  f i n d  o n e  n e a r  -
-  W a n n a  f e e l  a l i v e ,  o u t s i d e  I  c a n ' t  f i g h t  m y  f e a r  - "
♔〘ƤՏƳƇӇƠlƠƓƳ〙♔
S E X U A L I T Y
-Pansexual-
P E R S O N A L I T Y
-Shy, modest and reserved-
-Introverted, often lonely-
-Sometimes clumsy-
-Whimsical and dreamy-
-Rather fragile and sensitive in appearance-
-Studious and curious, she likes to learn-
-Very smart and clever-
-Sweet, generous and warm once open to others-
-Adorable and always ready to help-
F E A R S
-Apiphobia (Fear of bees and any other insect of the same kind)-
-Aquaphobia (Fear of the water)-
-Thalassophobia (Fear of the seabed, the abyss)-
-Nyctophobia (Fear of the dark)-
-Claustrophobia (Fear of tiny spaces)-
P A S S I O N S
-History-
-Literature-
-Science-
-Saxophone-
-Art-
-Languages-
L I K E S
- Music - Reading - Writing - Learning - Learning new languages - Playing Saxophone - Painting and drawing - The Renaissance - Mythologie - Traveling - Italian landscapes - Collecting films - Video games - Nature walks - Roses - Winter and snow - Tea and hot chocolate - Fireworks - Celebrations -
D I S L I K E
-Bees/wasps/bumblebees/etc. - Heat - Conflicts - Feeling forced or constrained - Loud noises - Onions and honey - The smell of cigarette - Swim - To use her costume -
C I G A R E T T E
-No-
D R U G S
-No-
A L C O H O L
-Rarely-
-Can’t handle much of it-
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" -  T e l l  m e  w h y  I ' m  w a i t i n g  f o r  s o m e o n e  -
-  T h a t  c o u l d n ' t  g i v e  a  f u c k  a b o u t  m e  - "
♔〘ƠƬӇҼRՏ〙♔
E X T R A S
-Her weapons are two daggers with blades made of amber and handles of gold and precious stones, which can be easily worn with chains. Additionally, those blades can slice through metal and stone when energized with the sunlight-
-Having very little knowledge in combat, Ra offered her a mask making her blind, and thus, Ra himself guides her body during the fight-
-She speaks more than ten different languages, and Ancient Egyptian is one of them-
-Her wings allow her to fly-
-The ultimate power offered by Ra, in a case of extreme emergency, is a total control over the sun, its strength, its heat and its intensity-
-She can't use her costume at night. Indeed, every night, Ra must fight Apophis in the kingdom of Duat, in order to prevent the latter from plunging the world into eternal darkness. Each sunrise is therefore a victory, and it is at dusk that Ciara can finally recover her powers, and see Ra again-
-Her white eyes allow her to see in the dark-
-Her voice : Lauren Paley-
P O S S I B L E  S C E N A R I O S
-It is possible to reproduce or use the scenario of the movie The Mummy. Ciara would be looking for the Book of Amun-Ra (It’s also possible to make Klaro appear, looking for the Book of the Dead)-
-Perhaps at an excavation site, in a museum, or in Egypt-
C R U S H S
-Steven Grant-
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O T H E R  P O S S I B L E  R E L A T I O N S H I P S
-Ra-
-Confident, protector, mentor-
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-Marc Spector-
-Best friend, confident-
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-Jake Lockley-
-Ambiguous friendship-
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-Layla El-Faouly-
-Good friend, met her on an excavation site-
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P L A Y L I S T
youtube
youtube
youtube
youtube
F U L L  P L A Y L I S T  H E R E
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ehe-ttenandayo · 1 month
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“Why would an eremite pray to an adeptus?”
A jolt in the back. The only person inside the darkened temple stood up and turned his black eyes towards the entrance, the only source of light. His clothes, browned by sand and mud, and a red scarf tied to his left arm, revealed him as an eremite to the person who asked, a liyuean man in clean red robes lined by strings of black and gold, standing at the door.
“Fear not, it is nothing but curiosity” The man continued, walking inside the temple towards the altar behind the Eremite. His steps did not make a sound on the planks beneath them. “An Eremite, alone, inside a temple of Liyue? This is not a common occurrence.”
The liyuean spoke slowly, savoring each word and smiling complacently. He was just stating the obvious, as the eremites, from Sumeru, were people that always moved in groups, specially outside of their own region; but each word was stinging somewhere inside the Eremite who clenched his fists. The light of the entrance couldn’t reach his face, but his body showed he was ready to fight.
The man sighed.
“I see, I understand. Apologies, I might have acted rashly. Please, do not move.”
Carefully, the man stepped into the shadows beside him, where the sound of wood and a creak announced the opening of a window, and another, and another. The shadows slowly faded into the brown of the small wooden temple, no carpets, no curtains, but a table covered by a pale red cloth with a few incense sticks and a candle on it. Behind, a hole in the wall held a small stone statue that had seen better years.
As soon as he noticed the figure, the Eremite’s body relaxed and turned to face it, it was a coarse stone that took the shape of a four-legged animal standing on a rock, a pair of feathered wings grew from its back, and a neck severed by erosion told him its head was lost a long time ago.
His first encounter with a god of Liyue was not what he expected, as all the opulence that he heard of was nowhere to be found inside of that ruined temple. However, that placed had something making him stay.
The sweet aroma of incense began to fill the air, and the liyuean man stood by the eremite’s side who, once again, jolted. But the man just joined his palms and closed his eyes in an action the other recognized as an invitation to do what he came for. The eremite joined in the prayers telling to himself that, even if the rituals were different, the inner workings were the same: relax your body, close your eyes, look inwards, into your dark.
A plead of freedom echoed inside of him, but the answer he got was the pain of the last months, showing itself as a beating mass that cracked and burned in orange and yellow. His body tensed, he wanted to run away once more, but his legs did not answer as the mass grew closer, bigger, and the cracks showed him the memories he tried to avoid.
The flames, the slashes… The spear across his mother’s chest…
The incense tingled in his nose and he found himself back to the present. For how long was he praying? Did nothing bad happen to him? Did the man notice? He looked up, and found the liyuean facing the altar, checking the few belongings of the temple.
It took the man a moment to notice that the eremite finished praying and, by the time he turned, he found the same defensive stance from before.
He sighed a second time.
“Your prayer did not give you the answer you wanted; I suspect.” He spoke. “I am sorry, for this god is fickle, and sometimes it takes more than coming here to get the help we want. However, I propose an alternative, as I am sure that it helps when you talk to someone, let me ask one more time, why is there an eremite inside of the temple of an adeptus?”
The question did not surprise the eremite this time, but no explanation would make him answer, no matter how many times he was asked, not after what he lived. The incense tingled again and a memory flashed in his mind, a pyramid standing over a valley of sand, rumored to ward a god, the same god that abandoned him when he needed him the most.
And sorrow stung in his chest, just for enough time to make an opening.
A voice withered by months of solitude came from the eremite’s mouth. “My god abandoned me. I lost everything.”
By the time he took his hand to cover his mouth it was already too late. His cheeks turned red and his heartbeat deafened him. Now the man knew everything and would use it against him sooner or later.
But in front of him stood a man with a smile that looked exactly as his father’s when he messed up. A smile with lips together that made him feel that everything would be alright. And if that smile found him here, maybe it was a good time to speak, he would ask and he would get answers, and the wish he had would finally come true.
After all, temples are for change, now those months of solitude and running away would end.
Was the incense ever so suffocating?
The liyuean man’s lips parted revealing a row of sharp teeth. He extended his right arm to let it grow and change into one as big as his whole body, covered in red fur with black stripes. His hand, now a paw with five black claws coming out of it, turned to point at the eremite.
“That is all I needed to hear.” He spoke. “Everything will be better now.”
And swung his tiger arm at the eremite.
Next->
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Text
OC “Wiki Pages”: Allegra
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—-
Nicknames (aka): Legra
Affiliation: Vermillion Rose School of Performance
Family: Unnamed mother, unnamed father, unnamed sisters
Friends: Kira, Bia, Zora, Carnation, Sapphire
Color: Mustard yellow, canary yellow, orange, light purple, brown, black, gold, tan
Special Features: Ring-shaped hairstyle, antennae, diamonds and round triangle shapes on wings
Character Influences: Mikey (TMNT: Mutant Mayhem), Iridessa (Tinker Bell)
Likes: Gymnastics, acrobatics, fun, circus acts, trapeze, rainbows
Dislikes: Onions, sharp objects
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/her
Birthday: July 24
Quote: “Eeeee!”
—-
Debut: TBA
—-
Allegra Cladyella is a character in Unikitty!: Big Bright World. She is an acrobatic fairy from Botania who is friends with Kira, Bia and Zora.
—-
Physical Appearance: Allegra is a wide-figured clouded yellow butterfly. She was light orange as a caterpillar. Her torso and hair are an orange color, and her face, arms and legs are a mustard yellow. She wears a pair of square glasses over her purple eyes. On her face, there are also freckles and a brown birthmark over her right eye. Her light yellow wings are bordered with flaxen yellow. There are diamond-like shapes on the top side and rounded triangular shapes on the bottom. Her hair is styled in the shape of a ring. 
Personality: Allegra is the liveliest, perkiest, and peppiest fairy those around her know. She takes great pride in herself and the things she does. Though Allegra likes it when things break her way, she doesn’t get upset when they don’t, and she just rolls with it. She is a persistent, hardworking and extroverted girl with a sharp wit. She is charming and talented, and she’s regarded as one of the most beautiful fairies in her tree. She’s a fun-loving acrobatics and gymnastics kid who likes to perform trapeze acts. She loves when people come to watch her flip and swing on the trapeze. Sometimes, she might fall down, but she doesn’t let her misses define her. 
As skilled as she is, Allegra isn’t an expert at what she does. She’s totally fine with her popularity, but it gets overwhelming for her sometimes. She’s subconsciously afraid she could do something or say something that turns people away from her. She always tries to get back up again, but before that, she wonders if she’ll be judged for any of her mishaps. She fears going against what she tries to be, especially if she does without knowing it. 
Abilities: At her performance school, Allegra is training to be a circus performer. Because of this, she is a graceful trapeze artist. She is skilled in the swinging trapeze and the flying trapeze. She also has learned static trapeze moves. Allegra is an energetic acrobat and an adept gymnast as well. She’ll often talk to her friends while doing handstands or cartwheels. She’s also good at making it work, in a just-going-with-it way. 
—-
Trivia
Allegra’s hairstyle alludes to the hair hang, an aerial circus act where performers are suspended by their hair on a rig.
Allegra is 17 years old.
Jezabat has two headcanon voice options for Allegra: Kristine from Hailey’s On It, or Princess Pea/Princess Presto from Super Why.
Her name in the Spanish and Portuguese versions is the word for joy in those respective languages.
—-
In Other Languages
Arabic: أليجرا / “Ailijra”
Spanish: Alegria
German: Allegra
Swedish: Allegra
Italian: Allegra
Swahili: Allegra
Portuguese: Alegria
Korean: 알레그라 / “Allegeula”
Japanese: アレグラ / “Aregura”
Chinese: 阿莱格拉 / “Āláigélā”
Polish: Allegra
Greek: Αλέγκρα / “Alénkra”
French: Allegra
Russian: Аллегра / “Allegra”
Hindi: अल्लेग्रा / “Allegra”
Thai: อัลเลกร้า / “Xạllekr̂ā”
Turkish: Allegra
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killmebythebeach · 3 years
Text
A bunch of head cannons (Maybe too much). Also in talking about the characters.
I think Dream is that one design where his skin is just the static tv screen. He just constantly emits that fuzzy noise, Sam crafted him the smile mask that he can see through so he doesn't scare people.
George is just kind of the server itself. He's the same species as Hannah, but a mushroom and more powerful. If he stays awake too long, the server just kind of freezes. This is also a reason XD keeps him sleeping, it's his way of talking to George and he thinks the server is like his soap opera of mortals.
Callahan is sort of like the person who makes sure George doesn't get killed or dies while asleep, making sure he's surrounded by mushrooms and such. Deer hybrid <3
Alyssa joined the server because she knew all her friends were idiots and didn't want them to die immediately. But once the elections rolled around, she felt the pressure of choosing sides and ran away to the desert, only keeping contact with Ponk. She actually lives just a couple miles from Foolish's summer home. Her communicator actually died after a couple months and she had no way of charging it, so she lost contact with everyone.
Sapnap is a magma cube hybrid and can jump higher than most, his natural temperature runs hotter, and is fire proof. Bad found him in the nether when he was maybe 10-15 years old.
Sam was actually a normal creeper, but gained player like sentience from being struck by lightning. Instead of becoming charged, he gained intelligence and met the others on the server. Callahan taught him some Redstone, but from there he figured out a lot on his own. He's also a creeper centaur.
Ponk is actually a descendant of a fairy, a lemon tree. Their mask was also a gift from Sam because after the second or third time their tree was burnt, their immune system was weakened a considerable amount. Alyssa also wore her mask for them.
Bad is a size shifting demon from the nether, more specifically soul sand desert. He uses soul fire to gain strength, so because the egg died when near it, he was just a little weaker than normal. Because he's a demon he needs a tie to the overworld to stay there, he tied his soul and lives to Skeppy.
Tommy was grown in a lab to be a hero, project: THESEUS. The lab gave him small enhancements, like slightly stronger and just a bit more resilient, to make the Above Average Boy (TM). He then ran away to meet Wilbur. When Dream asked Wilbur if he wanted to come to the server, he asked if Tommy could go first to see what it was like. He also actually really likes gardening and making up funny songs to Wilbur playing guitar. He also made funny lyrics for his discs, but he's still a bit scared to take them out of his ender chest. Other than bringing attachment, Dream also exiled Tommy to see what his lab enhancements could do.
Tubbo is an adaptive hybrid! His hair was blond, shifting to brown when Wilbur found him, getting blue eyes from Tommy, growing small horns under Schlatt, parts of his skin being static when Dream was "helping" him with his presidency, and parts of his scars tinging black and green from Ranboo and Micheal. Tubbo also helped Wilbur write part of the anthem. He likes living in the snow because the Manberg flag had magma blocks on it, casting a heatwave over the country, and after L'Manburg blew up it got really hot from the exposed stone in direct sun.
Fundy can actually hold his breath for a very long time and swim very well because of Sally teaching him and his salmon genes. The yellow things on his hat are actually shells, and the stripes on his jacket are trans colors. Also with his dreams, he saw Eret was going to betray them but didn't think it was real, or didn't want to. He also saw Wilbur blow up L'Manburg but chose not to believe it, thinking his father could still be saved. He actually saw pretty much everything, but didn't quite understand what they were until after doomsday.
The necklace Punz wears is one of those picture lockets, but he lost the picture and can't remember what it was. The first time Dream paid him was when Dream asked for help and Punz made an off hand joke about getting money, and then Dream thought he was being serious. Him, Dream, and Sapnap were like brothers, and Punz got sadder every time he saw Dream pushing people away and diving deeper into darkness.
Purpled is an aliensent to see if the planet was colonizable, but then crashed and was stranded, all his communications down and his ship barely able to hover fifty feet off the ground. When Quackity blew it up, he essentially got rid of his chance of ever going home. Purpled's species can shapeshift, so he turned himself into the first person he saw, Punz. Eventually before trying to communicate with the native life forms, he edited his form a little so they weren't identical, keeping purple eyes and antennae, changing the colors slightly, and changing the voice up. When he moves away from the main SMP, Ponk makes sure to check up on him and that he has a way to check his communicator.
Wilbur came a month after sending Tommy. His father being a patron of life and his mother the goddess of death, he met in the middle being born as a human. The only reason Ghostbur was as active and present as he was was because he was so connected to both life and death. Since his corpse was decaying for as long as it was, Wilbur is now super weak, his flesh is thin and his eyes are rotted and gone. Much like Ghostbur, Wilbur in limbo saw what people said about him, and Ghostbur could hear that from the back of his head. Now Wilbur can hear what people say about Ghostbur and he hates it, not wanting to be connected to what he thinks like a shell of himself.
Schlatt is a ram (duh) and actually does the fainting goat thing. So when he died of a heart attack, no one knew at first if he was actually dead or not. His alcoholism stems from the revive book, as the possibility of tampering with death made him existential and scared, so to cope he drank. There are also a ton of other stuff other than revival in the book, but it's in galactic.
Skeppy was just a normal human, but after making the pact with Bad, Bad put a spell on him. Parts of him turned into diamond, protecting both his and Bad's lives. He however, is unaware of this. With the egg, he would just sit on it, the diamonds chipping away to make room for the vines.
Eret was cursed by the Wither Cult, giving them white eyes and a slowly deteriorating memory. Not sure what to do, Foolish dropped them off at the SMP. Sometimes they would dream about old memories from before the curse, but it was just glimpses so he could never tell what they meant. Once they were king, they made the Herobrine shrine subconsciously, not really sure what it was after. They also had a strange affinity of beacons and resurrection, some of their memories resurfacing when they tried to help Phil and Ghostbur revive Wilbur after doomsday. The reason people are more scared of their eyes than any other wierd eyes was because he generally looks like a normal human, but the wither along with their Herobrine origins creates an uncanny valley that people are shocked by.
Jack had red and blue irises before crawling out of hell, but after coming back the whites of his eyes also turned red and blue. He always wears 3d glasses so no one noticed, but he just thought no one cared enough to mention it. He also has a bunch of scars and burn marks that no one but him can see, therefore no one asks about them or thinks something is wrong, cementing the idea that no one cares about him.
Niki is a blaze hybrid (stole this from @/420technoblazeit) whose fire hair color changes based on strong emotion, something she bond with Tubbo for as a fellow shifter. A soft yellow in L'Manburg, brighter orange in Manburg, hot pink on Doomsday, a soul fire blue with the syndicate (which Techno hates), and a dead grey when she found out Wilbur was alive. She was also old child hood friends with Ranboo and Eret, leaving Ranboo for the SMP. Ranboo, unfortunatly, doesn't remember much more than her name. She also knows galactic from Ranboo, so she talks about her troubles to Shy the Enderman. She doesn't really know how to talk to Puffy anymore after Doomsday or finding out how she wants to protect Tommy.
Quackity can perfectly replicate someone's voice and, with a lot of effort, can completely change his form to another player. He also has very small yellow wings, too small to fly, so he almost always hides them. He used to constantly change his voice for jokes with Karl, Sapnap, and George, but he doesn't like doing it now in Las Nevadas, as he sees it as unprofessional. However, sometimes he uses when he visits Dream, changing his voice to people like George and Sapnap to make torture more effective.
In the In Between and Other Side, Karl actually looks like his old skin, or his natural state (the big purple one that inspired his sweater). But most of the time in the normal world, he looks human. With effort he can bring out the interdemential being thing, something only Quackity and Sapnap know about. The more he time travels, the easier it becomes to change, and he's even started defaulting to the other form.
HBomb is actually just a normal news reporter, sent to interview and record what's going on in the server, his first big story being the election. Upon Doomsday, the stress of seeing everyone alone, fighting, and disconnected, he ran away from the world, essentially becoming a cat lady. His undercover reporter persona is actually the cat maid. He eventually came back to the server to see how he could help after Doomsday, befriending Niki again and living with her in the underground city.
Techno is a piglin, so he's scared of soul fire. He forgot to tell Phil before he decorated the syndicate room, so he just suffers in silence. He also does better when around a lot of gold, like in the nether, and he feels drained and slightly weaker without it. Instead of just putting gold around the area (it would ruin his property value), he just hibernates. He has an emerald earing, like all of the syndicate, but his is a locket that unfolds into pictures of the syndicate.
Ant always wears a red hoodie, now ruined by the egg, that used to be Red's. On Red's death anniversary, him, Bad, Skeppy, and Sam would make cake and put flowers on his grave. He missed the last one because it was during the egg, but for a brief moment after Puffy killed him he saw Red. Red then promptly and bluntly told him to stop being a pussy (haha, cat) and that he shouldn't do all this just to get him back, one of Ant's motivators to make amends with the people he hurt while with the egg. Ant is also a shapeshifter, but can only turn into a cat.
Phil actually used to work under Foolish as a patron of life but then he had a son with the goddess of death, so his title was removed so he could be with her and he became an Angel of Death. Kristin noticed how sad he was after being released, so she gifted him wings. They were however, destroyed on November 16th. His chat also serves as messenger pigeons, which were used to send letters to Wilbur.
Connor is actually just a hedgehog who somehow befriended Schlatt. Even before the haunted mansion, Karl vented to him about his time travel troubles, not knowing he was a sentient player. As a hedgehog, no one really cares where he goes, so he goes outside the server limits to meet his friends from the haunted mansion.
Puffy is a distant relative of Schlatt, but instead of politics she went into piracy. With her mom, she went travelling the seas. One say, a storm came and wiped out her ship, her crew, her mom, everything but her. The reason she survived was because Foolish saw her and saved her. Unfortunately, Puffy hit hee head in the crash and doesn't remember anything.
Vikkstar is the equivalent of a big time celebrity, so of course his endorsement of POG2020 was a big deal.
Lazarbeam is literally just a ginger bread cookie.
Ranboo has actually met a lot of the smp before actually joining. He's met Niki, Fundy, Eret, Punz, and Dream at least. He also sees the inverted colors Enderman see. His suit was actually a gift from Eret before they forgot how to tailor. He got the crown from Techno after joining the syndicate, claiming he didn't want any syndicate members to look like trash.
Foolish came to the server most recently to check up on Eret, but he couldn't bring himself to leave again. When Puffy adopts him, he can't say no because he remembers saving her. His initial goal was to kill an ender dragon to claim the XD title and become a full god like DreamXD, but after realising someone already killed it he went into his totem if death phase. Upon meeting Eret, he got over it and they went on some silly adventures, Foolish now taking a more peaceful route.
Hannah is essentially a weaker George, as her power is tied to the plants themselves and not the entire server. She however has a lot more physical power because rose dryads like to fight because they have thorns. Since roses can be taken out a lot easier, she is essentially a glass canon. Also when around any plant, she can make it grow faster than normal.
Any guest on the server? Corpse, Pokimane, Lil Nas? They were all Slimecicle. That's how he knows where everyone is from, even outside of Las Nevadas. No one else knows this. He's also ancient, if he met Phil they would probably recognise eachother. There was an actual Charlie Slimecicle who was not a slime, but after being launched into orbit this Slimecicle decided to impersonate him.
Michael Mcchill is a sort of bounty hunter. He came to the server after hearing of all the crime, assuming there'd be a lot of bounties to collect. However, he soon learned that no one really cares if you commit a crime. He then took to reading news articles made by HBomb to see if there were any past open bounties. But after reading for a while about the server's wronguns, mostly Dream, he began to sympathise with them. And he's also a speedrunner, so maybe he could help with some bounties across other servers!
This was a very long post and i apologize, but it was so fun to finally write all these thoughts down! I hope you liked them! I can't even fit all the tags I want.
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crystal-moon-101 · 3 years
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Since I saw people talking about Ben's little big chill kids, I thought I'd finally do some headshots of my ones, who are also a part of my Ben 10 Next Gen. For me, I've always imagined that for young necrofriggians, they all start out looking the same (Beyond some size difference), but as they grow older, they'll start to develop their own patterns, small body traits and shades of colour, as showcased here. I'll share the little info on each sibling, and the basics of who they are as a person. When Ben first found them again, saving them from poachers and going full mum mode, they had been developing these different psychical traits, but not enough to identify each properly on their own, so while giving them names, Gwen used bandana pieces to colour code them, and each kid still wears theirs to this day, slightly modified. So here they are now, as full grown young adults. You can follow from left to right each row, or just the colours next to their names. -North (Black)- The largest and physically strongest of the kids, North acts as the leading member when Ben isn't around, doing their best to watch out for their siblings and be a middle ground to them. It's been this way since they were born, looking out for them and doing whatever they can to protect the others. This has resulted in North collecting quite a few scars and wing tears, though they wear them with pride, wanting to display how strong they are to others. They often looks up to Ben when it comes to being a hero, in how their mumdad protects others and the galaxy, and wants to be a fighter like him one day, often asking to train with their mumdad whenever he's around. Ben has suggested Plumber training for North, but they're still thinking about that. -Tundra (Red)- Tundra is a very curious one, and is known to wander off when things catch their interest. They prefer using experience to learn from, thus making them quick on their feet when something happens, and good at thinking logical. When the siblings are struggling with something, or come across some kind of problem, it's often Tundra who provides the quickest answers that should go well for them. That being said, due to their wandering, they gave gotten into trouble a few times and need to be saved by their siblings or Ben, as despite how smart they are, they can be a bit of a ditz when something catches their interest. -Grey (Silver)- Having a connection to the earth bellow, Grey often spends their time searching caves, and any hidden areas they can find. They especially love to research and find minerals of any kind, ranging from metals to gems, sometimes even studying their metal lunch for the day before eating it. Because of this, they can be carelessly dirty, and aren't the cleanest of people, but does pick up after themself when reminded. Grey is also pretty close with their sibling Storm, and surprising Gwen and Ben when first hearing the two call each other "Dweeb" and "Doofas", when first meeting them again. -Storm (Brown)- As someone who likes to spend a lot of time flying and high in the clouds, Storm is fascinated by the weather and how it behaves, and feeling the cold fresh air and challenging themself with flight training. This has provided them to have the most agility in the air, and knows the best ways to build up speeds, while also not draining themself. Whenever they aren't flying around, they're doing research on the weather, very keen to be a meteorologist one day. Whenever Ben visits, they will often ask him about the weather on other planets, and any adventures he's had in the sky. Storm is also pretty close with their sibling Grey, and surprising Gwen and Ben when first hearing the two call each other "Dweeb" and "Doofas", when first meeting them again. -Crystal (Blue)- Graceful on their feet, Crystal is a charming and gentle person, with a keenness for the art of dancing, especially when hovering in the air. This was something sparked in them when seeing how the patches in their wings, which are see through, glittered and reflected light through them, making Crystal often move around to see what they could get them to do, and the introduction of dancing was something they latched onto as a result. They are one of the hardest of the siblings to get angry, upset or rile up, and often goes with the flow and speaks in a slow and soft voice. Because of their kind nature and beautiful display of their wings, Crystal has attracted many others who are interested in them, many falling for them after meeting Crystal for a mere minute, though they tend to pretend not to notice, and turn down those who ask. -Orion (Orange)- Having an eye for art, Orion is a skilled painter and drawer, while also dabbling into other art forms to create things, their room filled with their works of art, and often creating gifts for others. From when they were little, Orion has always admired their auntie Gwen, and are always keen and eager to hang out with her when she visits, showing every new drawing and painting they have made while she was away. In fact their fondness for auntie Gwen is why they picked the orange bandana, as it reminded them of her hair. -Neva (Green)- Fashion focused and head strong, Neva is a keen one, who knows exactly what they like and isn't afraid to say it. They love designing things to wear, especially since fashion isn't that big on Kylmyys, and Ben brings them fabrics and items they request from earth whenever he comes by on a visit. Though, despite Neva's expensive tastes, they are most certainly aren't a snob, and more often than not create outfits and accessories for others that Neva knows they'd like, and wants to bring out the best beauty in them. Though admittedly, they can get a bit carried away if someone asks for fashion advice, or even brings up the idea of something related to it. Neva also a bit of a business mind too, having gotten some clients recently on their homeworld after seeing what Neva could make. -Raine (Aqua)- A very sweet young one, Raine has a keen eye for collecting things, particularly shiny or unknown stuff. From gemstones to simple earth utensil, if something interests them, Raine is known to take it with them, sometimes snatching without thinking. They don't mean any harm, and just sometimes think before acting, and will give something back if they've realized what they've done, but if it's clear they can keep it, then they aren't one to share, though do like to show off what they have with joy. They are also very well organized, knowing where everything they own is, and even when their siblings misplace something, having a photography memory and mental list of things. They may own a lot of stuff, but that doesn't mean they want to live in a pigsty. -Vale (Yellow)- Being one of the quiet ones, Vale likes to keep a lot to themself, and don't speak very often, only when they need to. They spend a lot of time outside, observing nature as it passes by them, using a little diary to note down what they see, hear, feel, smell and even taste. They like to appreciate silence and the world around them, and the beauty of nature, and collect little things to store away in their diary as memory. Whenever they visit earth, they love to visit the forests in the spring and summer, seeing the range of colours blooming from flowers, and has many flower prints because of this. -Lux (Beige)- Quite the basic of people, Lux likes to live life in a simple way, and tends to try and stare clear of any chaos, which is quite hard when you have 13 wild siblings. Because of them, they can come across as annoyed and frustrated at times, and can be blunt and honest, but they do love their siblings, and is often the one that says what's needed to be said. Lux also have massive wings compared to their body, a ratio none of the others have, and use to trip over their feet a lot growing up. Now, their massive wings are a great way to hide away when they're not in the mood to talk to read a book, or to hug a family member when seeing them down. -Micha (Pink)- Bubbly and sneaky, Micha has been dubbed the "Pink Ninja" for a reason, someone almost always able to hide away and sneak up on others. They love to jump scare people, and has found more and more crafty ways to get around without being noticed, even without their ability to go invisible. They love to pull jokes and get a laugh out of people, and Micha is known to have a snort with their own laughter. It's always their mission to catch Ben off guard when he visits, as each time it gets trickier due to him knowing it's coming, and his training and skills build up over the years, but Micha always finds a way in the end. -Zodiac (Gold)- Patient and often neutral toned, Zodiac is often seen to be pretty wise. From a young age, they've always loved stories from history, especially those about myths and legends they hear from around the galaxy, and spend a lot of their time reading and researching anything they hear about, always keen to hear a new story they may have never heard about before. It always fascinates them how much Ben has seen and done, and the stories he tells, Zodiac is practically fond of those about Alien X and Celestialsapians, and wants to meet one one day. -Alaska (White)- High on energy 99% of the time, Alaska is always zooming around and never has time to stop. They rarely sit still for long, and it takes a lot to drain them of their endless energy, always moving in a blink of an eye. Because of this, Alaska is the fastest of the crew, which has come in handy often. But they can be easily bored, and a little frustrating to deal with when they don't pay attention, but they do like to spend that energy by jumping around each sibling to spend the day with, and wants to engage in all of their activities to support them. -Arlo (Purple- The smallest of them, Arlo was born the runt of the group, but thanks to their siblings, especially North, they managed to survive childhood when most other necrofriggian runts would have died. This makes Arlo the baby of the group, and the one they all want to protect, even if it can be a little baring at much, wanting to prove they can be strong on their own. And Arlo somewhat got their wish, when reaching a certain age and Ben learning that one of his children had the spark, thus meaning Arlo is an Anodite, and is able to use magic, though they're far from being perfect at it, and their small body sometimes struggles to keep up. But each day Arlo practices, wanting to feel more than just the tiny one, but they are generally kind and great with emotions, being very supportive and just trying their hardest.
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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years
Text
melting fire
Bela had never been so hot before.
Delirious and fever-stricken, she squirmed on her bed, desperately trying to escape the burning heat inside of her. It was like she was laying in the hot sand of a desert, slowly being fried by the sun that wasn’t there. Because she was in her bedroom, shrouded by dim shadows, and the only light was coming from a singular gas lamp on her desk, flickering faint yellow-gold across the floor. But it was so hot, the blankets like plains of fire on her skin, doing little to bring her any comfort.
A soft moan managed to escape Bela’s flaking lips. Her mouth was dry, tongue like burnt coals. She desperately needed water--not even blood, but nice, cold water--but she couldn’t get up. She could barely even move aside from her twisting and turning in a vain attempt to get comfortable.
Her breath came out thin, reedy, and too-hot. She thought she could spout flames, maybe. She had to be burning alive.
There was a squeak as her bedroom door creaked open. She pried open her heavy eyelids to see two silhouettes creeping towards her bed. She instinctively bared her teeth and spat at the trespassers, too weak to raise her claws to defend herself.
“Someone is cranky,” teased a voice.
Wait-- she knew that voice.
Bela settled as her sisters perched on the edge of the bed.
“Sorry,” she rasped, her voice weak and hoarse from illness. “I’m kinda delirious.”
“Kinda?” Cassandra raised an amused eyebrow. “Do you know what you were doing before you passed out earlier?”
“Do I want to know?” Bela asked nervously.
Daniela helpfully supplied her with details: “You were all wobbly and Mother set a hand on your shoulder and said it was to keep you from falling. Your response was, ‘It’s okay, five-second rule.’”
Bela’s face flushed red--redder than it already was than her fever. “Oh--”
Daniela didn’t relent: “And then you started stroking Mother’s arm hair and said, ‘You’d make such a good carpet.’”
“Okay, that’s enou--”
“You also said, ‘my bones feel wet, may I have a napkin?’”
“Daniela--”
“Oh, and we can’t forget, while at breakfast and you were still trying to act like you were okay: ‘Coffee doesn’t taste like coffee, but it sure does taste like brown.’”
“Okay, okay!” Bela yelped, then coughed into her blankets. “I get it. I was out of it.”
“Very out of it,” Cassandra said, stroking her claws through Bela’s sweaty hair. Bela, rationalizing that she couldn’t get any more embarrassed than she already was, leaned her head into her sister’s touch, letting out a soft purr of contentment. Cassandra’s talons were nimble and uncharacteristically gentle against her burning scalp.
“Where is Mother?” Bela asked.
“Aww, are we not good enough company for you, Beli?” Daniela teased playfully.
“I didn’t say that!” Bela squeaked. She hunched her shoulders in. “I was just wondering.”
“Somewhere around here,” Cassandra said vaguely. “She’ll probably come to check on you soon.”
Bela nodded sluggishly. Her head was beginning to fill with fog again. “Alright…” she murmured.
“Aww,” Daniela cooed. “She’s getting all silly again.” She reached out and lightly dragged her claws down one of Bela’s clammy cheeks, probably thinking she was being comforting, when really her touch was just ticklish.
Bela bared her teeth at her, though she barely opened her eyes. “Shut it.”
Daniela tittered.
“Well, we’ll let you rest,” Cassandra said, tugging on Daniela’s arm.
“Sleep well!” Daniela said as she was pulled out of the room.
“Thanks,” Bela replied.
The door shut and she was left in darkness once again.
Bela rolled onto her side and curled up in her blankets. A moment later, she rolled onto her other side, but it did little to help her discomfort. Her body was aching all over and no position was good enough.
Outside, the wind was howling. Another snowstorm was blowing in, loud and powerful. She turned over again to watch the snowfall. The snowflakes flew like dozens of little whiteflies behind the glass, twisting and twirling through the air. It made her think of her own flies, and she broke off a piece of her skin into a cluster of insects. She was desperately lonely and wanted something to interact with since she didn’t have her sisters or mother there with her.
With blurry eyes, Bela watched dazedly as her insects flew around her head. She held out a finger and they lined up on it in a perfect arrangement: blowfly, flesh fly, dogbane beetle, Spanish fly, black vine weevil, drain fly, green bottle fly, clothes moth, click beetle, room spinning, ears ringing, eyes shutting…
Bela’s head jerked back when she began to nod off, sending her bugs into a scattering cloud of frantic wingbeats. She blinked her eyes furiously, but it did little to dispel the fuzziness over everything. It was like she was looking underwater. She rubbed her heavy eyelids, and moving her arms was like trying to move solid beams of lead.
Her fever flared. She moaned weakly in pain.
Her skin was baking, boiling right off of her bones. Her limbs were sacks of heated stones and smoldering embers that she had to drag around with her, and her ears simply felt like they were lit on fire. Her cheeks felt like someone was holding hot iron to the sides of her face and wouldn’t let go, no matter how loud she screamed.
To put it simply, she was like a roasted lamb on a spit, rotating slowly above hungry flames. Sometimes, she had fallen into their orange-gold mouths. She could almost feel the flaming tongues licking at her skin…
Bela squirmed, whining faintly. She couldn’t handle this. She couldn’t take this heat. She used to think the cold was bad, but this-- this was just awful.
She had to escape it.
As though beckoning her, the blizzard howled.
Bela raised her head--which was rather difficult, as it felt like it weighed a ton--and squinted. The snow usually wasn’t very enticing, but something about it now seemed to call to her. It was inviting her to join its cool embrace, promising to soothe her raging fever. She had to oblige to it.
Sliding out of bed, Bela staggered towards the window. The glass was cool against her palms when she pressed her hands to it, but felt even better on her burning forehead. She let out a sigh of relief as the chill invaded her, but it wasn’t good enough. She needed more. She needed to be rid of this fire inside of her.
Bela pushed against the window. It didn’t budge. She whined and pushed harder. It still didn’t budge. Mother kept them locked for good reason, but Bela needed to get out now. She felt like she was being cremated and didn’t know how much longer she could handle it.
Finally, after a few moments of desperate struggling, the window relented under her assault and she was embraced by the soothing cold. It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. It felt…nice.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Bela relaxed her body and shut her eyes to rest.
--- --- ---
Alcina was alerted by the sound of glass shattering. She had been idly flipping through a book when she heard the horrendous smashing sound. Instantly, she snapped to her feet and began striding down the hallway until she got to Bela’s room. Upon opening the door, she was greeted by a blast of cold air, which was as freezing as the black ice that suddenly sprinted through her veins.
“Bela?” Alcina shouted. Stepping inside, she noticed that the window was broken open and her eldest daughter was nowhere to be seen. “Bela?!”
Alcina rushed over to the crater created in the glass and looked out. Despite the darkness of the night, she could still distinctly make out the figure of Bela in the snow below.
She didn’t look like she was moving.
“Bela!!”
Alcina ran out of the room, where she was promptly met by her other two daughters. They both instantly leaped away from the doorway with yelps when the cold wind brushed against their legs. She quickly shut the door.
“Mother, what happened?” Cassandra asked.
“Stay here,” Alcina said instead of answering. She then turned and sprinted down the hallway and outside, nearly clipping her head on the doorframe.
When she found Bela, she may have been more concerned about her falling from the second-story window if it wasn’t for how leached her skin was. Her eldest daughter was icy to the touch, her skin as brittle as weak glass in the unforgiving cold. Alcina scooped her up into her arms, holding her close to her chest to protect her from the vicious lashing of the snowstorm as she carried her back inside.
Bela had been out there for less than three minutes, but Alcina’s mind was still running in panicked circles. Was it enough to kill Bela? Was her baby girl about to die in her arms? Alcina’s heart seized at the mere thought of losing one of her daughters. She frantically went over her own notes in her head: the flies generally began hibernating at temperatures below ten degrees Celsius, and it was definitely below ten degrees Celsius out there. When that happens, their metabolism drops and they go into a state of lethargy, which then causes extreme weakness and fatigue. There was also the pain and sensitivity that came from the cold, and though Bela didn’t seem like she was in freezing agony, Alcina still couldn’t be too sure.
It was then that Bela stirred, and Alcina snapped her head down. Bela was squirming in her arms, whining ever so faintly. She didn’t seem to be in pain, she just seemed distressed and very uncomfortable.
“Mother,” Bela panted. “Please--”
“It’s alright now, my love,” Alcina said, carrying Bela over to one of the many fireplaces in the castle, swiping up a blanket folded over a cushioned chair as she went. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” She squeezed her daughter close to her chest, not quite realizing that she may have been smothering her. “It’s okay. Mother’s here now.”
“No-- no--” Bela tried to wiggle out of her grasp, but she was much too weak. “Hot-- too hot--”
Alcina frowned. She had been wondering how and why Bela got outside, but now it made sense.
Was her fever really that bad?
“You can’t be cold, darling,” Alcina said, crouching down in front of the fire, not releasing Bela from her vice. She wrapped her in the blanket, despite her wriggling. Under her touch, Bela's skin was still worryingly frigid and dry. She hoped the snow wouldn't leave blisters. “You must stay warm.”
“No--” Bela’s claws tugged feebly at Alcina’s dress. If it weren’t caused by illness, then it may have been cute. “Mother, please…”
Alcina sighed. She shifted Bela into one arm (it wasn’t exactly hard to do) and brushed her sweaty hair out of her face. Bela leaned into the touch, her eyelids fluttering shut. She purred faintly.
“You need to be warm,” Alcina told her. As hard as it was to resist her child’s begging, she couldn’t just go throw Bela out into the snow. She had to keep her near the fire, where her body could go back to its normal temperature.
Alcina cupped the back of Bela’s head and pressed her face into her neck, rocking her slowly. She should have kept a better eye on her. She should have been there, taking care of her. Now an awful chill had taken lodge in her precious daughter’s body and she was worried that it wasn’t going to come out.
“Mother?”
Alcina turned to see Cassandra and Daniela. They both looked simultaneously curious and worried.
“Is Bela okay?” Daniela asked.
“She will be,” Alcina answered, holding Bela closer until she was holding onto her like a baby koala bear. She was hoping her body heat would help dispel the ice inside of Bela’s own being. “Your sister thought it would be a good idea to break her window and go out into the snow.”
“I’m hot,” Bela whined. She quickly followed her words up with a purr as Alcina stroked her hair.
Daniela giggled. “Beli, I thought you were the smart one!”
“‘M gonna…turn you into a ceiling fan,” Bela growled without opening her eyes. “But…too tired… Maybe later…”
Daniela giggled again. Cassandra snorted into her hand. Even Alcina, despite her worry, couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Darlings, can you get a wet rag for me?” Alcina asked her other two daughters.
Bela chuffed against her neck.
“A moderately cold one. But not too cold. Just slightly below lukewarm. Please.”
Cassandra and Daniela both nodded and raced off to retrieve the item before the other.
Slowly, the cold was draining from Bela’s body, chased away by the tag-team effort of the fire and Alcina’s body heat. Her fever, however, quickly became apparent once again, searing right through the back of her gown and into Alcina’s hand while she rubbed up and down her spine. No wonder she had broken a window just to get outside; she was burning up.
“I’m sorry for not keeping a better eye on you,” Alcina said, shifting her daughter in her arms. “I should have been watching you to make sure this never happened. Though, I never expected you to break a window…”
“Not your fault,” Bela said, her breath hot against Alcina’s neck. “I was being stupid.”
Alcina leaned her back slightly, cupping the back of her head with one hand. “Are you slightly more awake now?”
“A little,” Bela said, her eyes glassy and half-lidded. “Feel like I’m on fire, though…”
Alcina frowned and tucked Bela back against her. She worriedly ran her fingers through Bela’s hair, which was damp with a mix of sweat and melted snow.
“I’m sorry I can’t do more for you, my darling,” Alcina said. “Damn, why did you and your sisters have to be weak to the cold? I would run you an ice bath if that didn’t put you at the risk of--” She didn’t finish that sentence. She shook her head. “Why flies? Why something that can’t survive in the cold? Why not something like-- like-- like birds!”
“Better than being hurt by heat,” Bela pointed out. “Then the fever probably would have killed me already.”
Alcina winced. “I suppose you’re right.”
“‘Course I am. ‘M the smart one.”
That got a small chuckle out of Alcina. “Your hubris is showing, darling.”
“No, yours is,” Bela mumbled, drifting off into a feverish, half-awake daze of slurring and purring.
Despite her remaining worry, Alcina couldn’t help but chuckle once again. She rocked Bela slowly until Cassandra and Daniela returned with the rag, Daniela being the one to present it to her. She thanked them, then shifted Bela in her arms so she could wipe her face down with it. Bela shuddered at the cold water on her heated skin, but let out a soft coo of pleasure.
“Thank you,” Bela whispered, cracking open her eyes slightly.
Alcina gave her a tender smile. “You’re welcome. Now, rest, my sweet girl. I will watch over you until you feel better.”
Afterward, she would make arrangements to strengthen the windows.
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loquaciousquark · 2 years
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8th Justinian. Cool today for the season, which means I’ve only had to change undershirts twice from perspiration
The first entry in a new volume is always one of my favorites. Something about the uncracked spine, the smell of clean parchment not yet grimed along all the edges, the spell of wondering what might happen to fill the rest of it. I tucked the last one on its shelf this morning after I closed it out and stood a moment admiring the row after, two dozen lovely little leather bindings all lined up soldierly, red and gold and brown and black and even Kirkwallian orange, thanks to a particularly generous moment from Aveline after her captaincy ceremony.
I had a shelf like this in Lothering too. I started keeping journals when I was—oh, I hardly know. Thirteen, perhaps? Fourteen? Old enough to form cogent thoughts, young enough that my terribly enormous fears barely spanned the fields to the creek behind the house. Young enough that I still pretended to be angry when Carver looked through the pages, though I was secretly flattered by the jealous attention (much easier to admit in two decades of hindsight). Mother encouraged the habit, thought it might improve my penmanship. It did, as it happened, though it also improved my tendency to practice witticisms in print first before testing them on my siblings. Poor Carver. Poor Bethany. However did we make it out of childhood together all under one roof?
That shelf is ash now, I suppose. We saw the house burning from the road, saw the darkspawn slithering over the waterwheel Da had set up at the creek. I know the curtains Mother made were alight—I watched the yellow print go black with char. I can’t imagine the rest of the house didn’t burn with them. We took so little with us...
I wish I could read them again. Bethany lived in those pages, if nothing else.
But! Wishes and fishes and an infinite sea; Orana’s brought tea and the dog needs a walk. Third shirt of the day, here we come!
12th Justinian. Evening. Stifling as a Fereldan oven on a feastday, and just as thick with the inexplicable odor of turnips and gravy
Lovely morning, quiet afternoon for once. Had a few jobs out on the Coast, nothing terribly onerous; more wonderfully, the sea was cool and salty and the spray was marvelous on our sweating faces after we tipped over the last of the bodies. I offered for us all to go swimming, but instead we just sat on a low black cliff and watched the water for a while, talking of nothing in particular. Merrill was weaving flower stems together to make a little green net; Isabela took it after a bit and started tying seagrass to its edges for a fringe. It was bleached by the sun and a touch stiff, but it still drooped magnificently when I held it over Fenris’s eyes like a little veil, like the ones the sisters sometimes wear on Satinalia. He must have been in a markedly good temper; he tolerated it for near half a minute before brushing me away, and even then he was smiling.
I can’t remember the last time he and Merrill shared in a joke, even something as small as this. Maybe several months ago at Wicked Grace, when Isabela dropped her hidden Angel of Death card by accident while she was fishing out her raise from her bodice, and Merrill puffed a bit of magic at it before Isabela noticed to send it flying across the table. Fenris caught it and tucked it into his cuisse quick as lightning, and by the time Isabela realized it was missing we were three hands in and drunk enough to reveal the secret immediately. Even Fenris’s stoneface gave way like wet clay when I plucked it out of his collar.
Even Anders laughed. Raucous, too, throwing back his head and tears squeezing out of his eyes. Was that the last time I saw him laugh?
Later—early?
Woke up from a dream and couldn’t sleep again. Fenris is still out like a doused torch. His arm was so heavy on my waist I couldn’t lift it and had to roll away from the weight instead, like a little Fereldan sausage on a turning spit.
It wasn’t even a bad dream, just—one of those quiet ones that make you rueful nostalgic. The little house in Lothering, curtains and all, and Mother and Da were there, and Bethany, and Carver covered in mud for some reason, and we were sitting down to table when the front door opened and Fenris came in to join us. Snow blew in with him, and he stamped his feet (booted), and Bethany laughed as she helped him with his scarf, and Carver dished him a plate and slapped him on the back as he sat down next to me. Da was smiling over his glass, and he winked at me as Mother chattered about the journey and the roads and grandchildren...
Funnily enough, it didn’t hurt at all when I woke. I thought it would. I lay there waiting for the iron clench, and it never came. It was only warm, a little candle in a window you might glance into from the evening street, a glimpse of a life that might have been, once, but has long passed by, and then you walk on your way again, gladdened for having seen it.
Fenris has at last mumbled a protest at the magelight. I think I’ll try to sleep again.
15th Justinian. Hot and clear, not a cloud for miles and miles. I bet I could see Amaranthine from the top of the Chantry spire if I tried
I should very much like to take a shovelful of nug dung and liberally coat the front door of every gossiping noblewoman in this city. Have they nothing better to do?
Word has spread, apparently, that the Champion has taken an elf for a lover. One would think his semi-permanent residence at the mansion & his attendance at Pelarie & Jule’s wedding hand in hand with me would have been clue enough, but these have apparently been heretofore ascribed to mildly inappropriate servitude. A natural assumption, it seems, given his master is a Fereldan doglord with no higher aspirations than an herb garden which doesn’t wilt in summer and blood-stain-less pants. Lord Stinton Fucking Forrester and his hideous mother came today to tell me—in essence, anyway—that the entire neighborhood had somehow seen me kissing Fenris the other evening at the wall that leads down into the Hightown market square, the one all covered in ivy and turned at an angle from the main stairs. Frankly, it’s rather private from prying eyes, especially when one is doing one’s covert kissing in the dark as we were, so I’m not entirely certain how we were so acutely observed unless Stinton lurks more in shadows than he lets on.
Thank the Maker Fenris was out visiting Sebastian. I don’t think he’d have been angry; for all his occasional acrimony, he can be remarkably diffident when it comes to his own social defense, as if he’s never entirely sure what he’s due. Worse, he might have believed them, even for the briefest moment, and all the wroth of the Maker I upended over their entitled, mercenary, cruel heads might not have undone the wound.
Stinton cried. Little boy that he is, soft-handed and soft-brained, his head full of his mother’s stuffing. I pitied him at the end, though I didn’t regret the anger. Lady Audrey sat cold as marble, her eyes wide at my language (or my general coarseness, possibly, given I was still wearing the stained house-robe from last night’s midnight stew snack), and when I at last told her I would no more welcome her advice on my bedfellows than on how to slaughter a dozen men with fire and a six-inch blade without their noticing, since she clearly was so interested in speaking of things she knew nothing about, she sucked in her cheeks so hard she looked like one of those little eyeless dolls Xenon keeps at the Emporium to dissuade theft.
She told me I was poisoning the streets of Hightown. I told her I was about to poison her right off my sofa if she didn’t leave. Stinton apologized in a whisper on their way out, though he didn’t say for what. Orana looked almost angry as she shut the door behind them.
Hm. Magnanimous as I am, I can admit that it was the most impressive flounce I’ve ever seen. Even the de Launcets were never so Orlesian in their exeunt.
16th Justinian. Early, steaming hot again, light clouds
I told Fenris an abbreviated version when he got home. We then spent the rest of the afternoon refreshing the lyrium of his tattoos (I was right; it took me significantly less time this go-round. Or—it would have, at least, if I hadn’t stopped to lick most of the tattoos as I cleansed them) and the rest of the evening refreshing ourselves with each other. I think I can write without blushing that the toy Isabela suggested to us is an unequivocal success.
Aha. It seems the blush marches on impassively, regardless of my wishes. Well, so be it. I will not be ashamed within these pages that my lover brings me pleasure, and I take pleasure in giving him his.
I worried at the start, you know. Oh, all the usual things: the fears that I might somehow remind him of Danarius; that he might not recognize the difference between an enraged mage sapping the lyrium dry and a mage caught up in the throes of—well, something infinitely more pleasant; that Danarius might have embedded certain cruel proclivities deeper even than I could reach. Everything which comes with taking a man who was a slave as a lover. I was more than willing to try, because—well, Maker, look at him—but what if—what if—?
I asked him last night where he learned to be gentle. He was quiet a long time; then he said he wasn’t sure. He said Danarius could be gentle when he wanted, when Fenris had pleased him, though it was still a selfish sort of kindness with no consideration for Fenris in the offering, if that makes sense. He said he saw slaves, sometimes, with other slaves, despite that it was a temerarious thing and as prone to pain as his own, though for different reasons.
I asked if the Fog Warriors had been gentle. He said yes, and his eyes softened the way they always do when he speaks of them, and he fingered the amulet we’d found together in Orlais. Shameless, too, he added, and laughed. My heart hurt it swelled so quickly, and I asked him if he would show me someday what he saw. 
Someday, he promised, and then he kissed me and set the lyrium blazing, and I forgot quite everything else almost immediately. He knows so well how to distract me now, and I can hardly help but encourage it. I am in many ways a selfish lover myself, and I know he finds immense satisfaction in striking me dumb however he can.
Somewhere in these journals is our first meeting. It might even have been the start of the new set I began here in Kirkwall. I wonder—if I went back and read it now, could I know? Could I see all the ways it would wend together and apart again, all the ways it would be wonderful and all the ways it would hurt, desperately...
It was worth it. If nothing else, I know every moment was worth this.
25th Justinian. Still hot and flaring hotter, along with the tempers of every scorching templar and mage in this city
Orsino has written me. I wish he hadn’t. He wants me to come to the Gallows tonight and speak to him. He says Meredith has gone mad.
I don’t want to be part of this. Anders was with me when I read the letter and he hardly reacted at all; he’s been nothing but cold rage for weeks, and when I read the last line he gave only a bitter scoff. “He’s only just now noticed?” he said, and laughed. It was not a kind laugh, and it echoed on the rocks of the Wounded Coast like a bad copper that refused to disappear. Isabela just looked uneasy and Varric said we ought to get back to the city as soon as we could.
We passed a group of templars in Darktown on the way back. They all turned their heads in silence to watch us pass. They patrol now like guardsmen, though Aveline swears she stamps it out whenever she sees it and will not uphold arrests they bring to her. They watched us in silence, and I could feel the hostility in their eyes like the burn off ice.
I cannot describe in words how much I do not wish to go to the Gallows. This city is a maw, endlessly gorging itself on our pain, and everything in me says this meeting will tip a balance one way or another to feed the city further.
Fenris says he’ll go with me. Aveline, too, as she fears Meredith attempting to seize what’s left of the unclaimed power in Kirkwall. Varric just wants to watch it happen, I think.
There’s something tight and hot in the air, like a wire out of a forge drawn white as diamonds, and it’s been stretching and stretching for too long. For years, maybe. Something is going to snap tonight.
Well. What am I good for, if not helping people and killing people? Might as well see which will be most useful when Kirkwall comes collecting its due at last.
Later—
Elthina is dead.
Anders
The Chantry
Anders
I wanted to kill him.
I let him go. Sebastian left. He was enraged. I did that to him. He said he would
Oh, Anders, how could you have
We’re trapped in the Gallows with a dozen Circle mages. We ran through Lowtown and the docks—Carver is here—I would not slaughter the mages for her and Meredith is coming with every templar in the city to slaughter us instead. We’re just waiting—I want to go and meet them but Fenris says we’re more defensible here. She called the Right of Annulment. She
Fenris says
I can hear pounding on the gates
I don’t know what time it is. Near dawn. We’re on Isabela’s ship, sailing who knows where—away. Fenris is here with me, standing at the rail and watching the seas behind as I write because my mana’s sapped dead to ashes and there’s not a damned thing I can do for anyone but sit here and seep blood. Merrill is here too, and Carver, and Varric. Aveline stayed. Anders—Maker knows where Anders has gone. Sebastian is probably whipping a horse into a frenzy on some northward road to raise a Starkhaven army in revenge. He sang the Chant to me, held my hands when my mother died. He made pancakes for all of us that morning after Satinalia. He gave me gifts on the annums and told me he trusted me, and we walked Sundermount once arm in arm because it made him laugh
Meredith is dead. She went mad. Orsino went mad, and he is dead too. Kirkwall glories in its feasting tonight.
Anders
I’ve lost track of the days. Three we’ve been on the water, I think. Anders blew up the Chantry. The sela petrae, the drakestone—he used me. Used my affection for him, or at least for who he used to be. He killed Elthina and a dozen sisters preparing for evening vespers. Scarlet light blossomed into the sky when it happened and blew a ring of rubble into the city around us; I’ve no idea if others died in the wake. Probably so.
Meredith stabbed me as I fought her at the end. It reminded me of the Arishok, but this time I’ve no Anders to take the weight of the healing for me. Just my own blunt instrument and enough regrets to bend the back of a high dragon.
This is such a mess. What a burning mess I’ve made of all of this.
We’ve stopped in Ostwick for supplies and to post a few inconspicuous letters. The postmaster said it’s the 30th of Justinian. Five days since
Fenris has gone into town with Carver to see what news they can find. Merrill is in the galley trying to make something edible. Let me try to make sense of this.
We went to the Gallows. A mage there sent us to Lowtown, where we met Orsino and Meredith in high dudgeon and higher argument. They fought; I took sides; Anders intervened and said there could be no half-measures, no peace.
The Chantry exploded. Elthina died, and the sisters with her...
I told Meredith I would not allow her to kill every mage in Kirkwall because of the actions of one madman. Anders flinched when I said it, and I was glad it hurt him. She left to gather her army. Orsino asked me to deal with my mess, though not in so many words.
Sebastian was furious. He wanted to kill Anders in that moment; he would have, if I hadn’t stopped him. I think he only refrained because he thought I would do it myself.
I was going to kill him. I had the knife in my hand. He sat before me like a prisoner awaiting execution, and he told me he deserved it. He did deserve it. Sela petrae and drakestone, and my insipid bumbling distraction of a conversation with Elthina, no thought in my head that I was consigning her to death with every word.
I did not love Elthina. Not in the way Sebastian did. She let Petrice die, which I was glad of, and she gave Sebastian a heart when he needed one. She fed the poor and housed the homeless and led the pyreside service for Mother when she died. She stood aside and watched Meredith and Orsino tear the city apart and did nothing. She placated and soothed and murmured and did not act and—
Flames! This hardly matters, does it? She died, and any hope for peace died with her.
There can be no peace, he said.
I called him a murderer to his face. He agreed with me, and he was ready to die at my hand. He saved Carver’s life in the Deep Roads for my sake, and he played Wicked Grace with us and bought us drinks and saved my life a thousand thousand times over the years. He kept me alive after the Arishok. He helped the poor of Darktown for a decade. We danced the Remigold together on Satinalia. He was my friend...
I couldn’t kill him in the end. I tried. My arm would not move, and Toby came up and leaned heavy on my knee and whined, and I couldn’t kill him. I told him to leave and never come back—I never wanted to see his face again.
Sebastian shouted at me. It all fell apart so quickly.
Sebastian left in a black rage. He will return with an army to the city to—I don’t even know. To raze it to the ground, perhaps. To finish what Meredith began. To annex it into Starkhaven’s rule and come down with the iron fist upon all those unholy in its borders. What revenge would satisfy him? Even the Harimanns came up empty in the end, when we learned the demons were behind it and taking their lives became a hollow thing. I don’t think I’ll see him again without fury between us. I loved him, as I loved Anders, and I’ve lost them both.
Maker, if only I could lay this work at the feet of a demon. If only I could find one clear spark and say this, this was the cause, this evil and no other. Even Justice’s wrath is not enough to bear the blame alone.
Fenris is back. He says word of Kirkwall’s uprising has spread quickly. The Seekers are looking for me; there is a reward. We will take to the water again within the hour. 
A thousand sovereigns, I’m worth. Alive, at least. No word on the price for the dead.
1st Solace. A clear day, cool, with a southerly breeze
Carver has decided I have, in his words, moped quite enough about all this, and has taken me under his arm and rapped my head with his knuckles until I cried uncle three times. Fenris only watched, bastard that he is, and by the time Carver was satisfied I was red-faced and livid. Nice to feel something though—anything, to be honest—and when he pulled me into a monstrous bear hug after it was all I could do not to break down and burst into very soggy tears right in the middle of his fancy Warden blues.
I had no idea he’d been so worried.
Damn Anders. Damn them all! Damn Meredith and Orsino and the whole bloody Circle. This didn’t have to happen!
Fenris says I’m not allowed to write again until I can do so without tearing the page apart with the pen. Andraste’s pyre, teach an elf to read and suddenly he’s got Opinions about everything literary, I swear to the Maker!
2nd Solace. Light drizzle today, enough to cut the heat. I’m huddled under a tarp on the stern deck and very grateful for it
Everyone else is belowdecks besides Isabela, the cowards. What little rain ever hurt anyone? One drip off an eave and Fenris hunches like an angry bedraggled cat. He’d never survive a Lothering spring.
Isabela says we should reach Wycome this evening. Aveline is to have posted letters for us there, we hope. Any news would do me good at this point; I can’t stop thinking about Orana, and Bodahn and Sandal. We had plans for this, contingency ideas to make sure they were away safely, but until I hear from her and know—
Enough. Worrying is nothing but borrowed misery. My mother taught me that. Where was I?
We fought through Lowtown and the docks. Carver appeared in the midst of the fighting like a gift from Andraste Herself and told me that if I were to start any wars without him, he’d take me to task and no mistake. I won’t lie; if the ferry had sunk on the way to the Gallows, I wouldn’t have minded overmuch. But it didn’t, and we landed...
There were abominations everywhere, mages desperate and dying in scores. Templars too, who attacked on sight, and Varric took a resounding crack to the skull that nearly robbed him from us before the real fighting even began. Thankfully I had enough lyrium draughts on me to get him back into fighting shape and still be square after, and then we stormed the Gallows in a fury that would have made Anders proud, if he hadn’t become, you know, a riotous murderer.
(Is it fair for me to say that? How many have I killed over the years? Were they all as guilty as I hoped?)
We were pinned deep in the Gallows. That’s when I wrote the earlier entry, when we had nothing to do but distribute potion and wait for death to come. It was—dare I say—nice in some ways to speak to everyone at last, one by one, and say—well, not goodbye, but...thank you, perhaps. Isabela stayed with me and did not leave. Merrill wanted to know if it was all a dream. Varric said he wasn’t one for long goodbyes. Aveline said she never doubted me (almost never)—which was nice to hear since I was half-certain I was about to make Donnic a widower. Forgive the smear on that last word; the ship dipped in a trough and a great slop of rainwater fell from the edge of my tarp cover to the page. Still legible.
Carver said it was good to be at my side again, the way a brother should be. And Fenris
Fenris
I suppose I should just say that if Stinton Fucking Forrester had been there, he’d have had no doubt of our relationship left.
He stayed with me to help the mages, and I loved him for it. I asked, and he stayed. I never doubted he would come with me when I asked, and my heart aches for some inexplicable reason at that understanding.
I love him; I know he loves me in return. That’s all. That’s enough.
Later—pulling into the dock at Wycome, still cool from the earlier rain
I had to stop earlier for lunch, and then Fenris & Carver wanted to discuss our plans with Varric. We have some now—plans, I mean—which is more than before, and I’m grateful to them for taking the lead here. It’ll just depend on if Aveline’s been able to send word.
Anyway, Orsino lost his mind to blood magic and turned into an absolutely disgusting many-armed monstrosity that took a thousand years to kill. I don’t know why. I don’t know—we killed the templars that came so quickly, and we lost no one in the doing, and still when it was over he looked despair in the face and welcomed it, and he gave in. We killed him, and everything he knew died with him.
He knew of Quentin...he knew...
But enough. That’s done. I can’t change it now.
We fought our way out to the courtyard again, the Gallows cleared and what mages survived huddled in a pitiful pile behind Carver’s watchful back, and then Meredith came to meet us with curly-haired Cullen at her shoulder. He wanted to simply arrest me, he said—as if that would have been any better under Meredith’s gauntleted thumbs—and she pulled a gleaming red sword from her back and slung it towards me, and even from across that little distance I could taste the iron ring of red lyrium baked into every inch of that blade.
I heard Varric swear. I saw the madness take hold in Meredith’s eyes when Cullen defied her orders and relieved her of command, when she ordered them to kill me and they would not. I saw the power leap from the sword into the cobblestone of the courtyard and slither into the statues watching, the great guardians with their many faces and the twisted, tortured bronze slaves that Fenris misliked so many years ago.
There is something deeply and ironically funny about that. That a penniless Fereldan refugee who came to this city with nothing but the clothes on her back and half a dead family ten years ago somehow grew important enough that the city’s erstwhile ruler wanted her dead among all others. Is this what they call making it?
In any case, the statues came alive. We fought them, and they—died? Is that the right word? I do wonder how deep her reach ran, if the great Twins that guard the harbor mouth came alive too, and, since they’re fixed knee-down in stone, settled for throwing stones at passing ships until the chains were raised. They all died, regardless, and at the end it was only Meredith and the red mad light of lyrium as she quoted Benedictions and called on the Maker to smite me dead where I stood.
She
Why is this so difficult to write
She got me by the forehead, once, near the end. I’d been caught up in a fight with one of the great hulking bronze slaves, its faceless head bearing down on me like a tidal wave as it fell in death, and then next thing I knew I’d been snatched from behind and Meredith had my head in one burning hand and her other hand—or at least the sword she held in it—thrust right through my gut.
After all this time, journal, I will not lie to you. I was absolutely furious. After all I’d done for the city, after giving up a perfectly good kidney, how dare she take my other! How dare she give Fenris even an ounce more of grief? How dare she make enforcing the people’s safety even one step harder on Aveline?
(It occurs to me as I write this that perhaps I should have simply been angry she stabbed me in the first place, but—alas. Where our hearts go, so too do our sorrows follow, etc.)
But thank Andraste it was more a glancing blow, due mostly to one of Sandal’s precious runes reinforcing the armor, and instead of skewering me clean through she simply ripped out a bit of my side and went through fat and muscle only. Nothing vital. Not that Fenris was anymore pleased by this, considering how ghost-clear and blinding blue he went as he came up behind her and swung his sword down on her neck. Not quite the impartial observer of the Arishok fight this time.
It was enough. She dropped me; I turned my staff to the bladed end; I put it through her throat. She screamed, then, and cried out to the Maker, and she burned...
She burned. On her knees, screaming upwards, and then she died. The sword withered into nothing and was gone, as beautiful as the sparks off a bonfire and as brief.
Cullen let us go. He could have stopped us if he wished; I was hardly in a position to do anything about it. Fenris was bleeding heavily from a blow to his forehead that had one eye clenched shut, and Varric’s right shoulder was dislocated. Aveline’s shield had broken clean in two and dangled from her arm. He could have stopped us.
He didn’t, and we fled. Isabela collected her crew from the docks once the ferry landed, rousing them from hammock and brothel, and we boarded without once returning to Lowtown, to Hightown, to—to anything. They were already raising the chains in the bay by the time we slipped across them.
And here we are.
Wycome is lovely in the dark. I’m not allowed to go ashore per the various threats to my personage from various interested parties, but from the ship’s rail I can see the candles gleaming in windows and across the streets, hear the calls of dockworkers to each other and laughter spilling out of bars as they go home to their families. Green bunting hangs over most main streets, shining gently in the lamplight. A lovely town. A quiet town, at least so far. Carver hasn’t come tumbling out of some tavern with half the village swarming like bees behind him, so I suppose they must be succeeding in their goals. All I can hope for, now. I gave what I had to Kirkwall and it wasn’t enough.
Maker and his blessed Bride, how twisted is it that I still love that city despite its horrors?
3rd Solace. There is no entry for this date, only a series of letters, many times folded and unfolded, tucked into the crease. The first is from the captain of Kirkwall’s guard, assuring the reader that her household is alive and well and that guards have been posted around her home to defend it from looters and rioters, and that the city is in as much order as could be expected after such events. The second is from a household maid, insisting that the reader’s home is being kept in a state ready for her return, that she herself is happy and healthy and safe, and that she has many friends looking after her in the meantime. The third is from the reader’s uncle, recommending the reader stay away a little longer if she knows what’s good for her, lest her long nose get cracked for poking in places it doesn’t belong. All three letters have rippled stains along the edges, as if they have been dampened more than once.
6th Solace. A clear day, cool, beautiful, light clouds and a clean eastern wind
The parting’s come at last. I didn’t want it to. Varric is to go back to Kirkwall. Merrill, too, to assist with the alienage and the elves there, and Carver must return to the Wardens. He’s already lingered too long—he told me that helping start a war was one thing as far as his commanding officer was concerned, but being late to muster was something decidedly worse. Isabela will ferry them back to the city in a matter of days now that the worst of the fervor has been curtailed. I wanted to go with them desperately, but there are still flyers everywhere with my face on them. My name, and a price on my head. I told Fenris it was nice to be so wanted, and he only rolled his eyes.
He will not go without me. I should feel guilty, I think, that he has given up everything he’s built to stay here with me, but—I don’t. I love him, and I want him near me. Perhaps not quite as near as the hammocks on Isabela’s ship forced us (that, I think, would strain even the most harmonious marriage on the continent), but when I said I would stay ashore and travel northward, he said without a moment’s hesitation that he would come with me.
I wanted to ask if he was sure. I know he grieves the loss of (damage to?) his friendship with Sebastian. I wanted to ask if it was worth it...
But his eyes were strong, green as glass and just as clear, boring into me like the outstretched hand of the Maker himself, and I knew to ask would only hurt us both. So I just kissed him instead, and let him hold me with our foreheads together for a little while, until we could both breathe again and pretend the salt on our faces was from the spray the ocean threw against the side of the ship with every rocking swell.
We will go back, one day. I can feel it in my blood. For better or worse, Kirkwall is the forge that made me; it’s as much as part of me as my bones and my magic. When it is safer—not safe, because if I have learned nothing over ten years I have learned that city will never be safe—we will go back, because even if it is not safe it is mine.
For now we will go north. Not too near Starkhaven, just in case Sebastian’s rage still burns too brightly, but enough that the fires spreading out of Kirkwall are more likely to be embers instead. The Vimmark Mountains are eminently passable this time of year, and there are many small villages between here and Starkhaven where we might take shelter and rest. Wildervale, perhaps. Perhaps one of the hamlets outside the city, if we need be even safer.
Ten years we spent in Kirkwall together. Fenris and me, and Aveline and Merrill and Varric, and Isabela, and Anders and Sebastian. Even Carver for the first little while, and again, later, when he could be spared from his duties. How many nights at The Hanged Man can I remember? They all blur together in the memory of warm candlelight, terrible whiskey and worse stew, and laughter so loud it shook the rafters in Varric’s suite.
I leave my mother in Kirkwall too. The house she grew up in and the one she returned to as a widow, her ancestry marked out in browning portraits hung along every wall and spidering genealogies tucked into the library shelves. The books Fenris used to learn to read are there, and the last bottle of Fereldan ale Aveline gave me. Mother’s room, and her ashes...
I leave the foundry ash in Kirkwall. Darktown always smelled of it, especially in winter when the chokedamp rose. Lowtown, too, when the wind was high and the foundries particularly hot. There’s suffering seeded through every line of iron you ever made, and that I leave behind willingly and without rancor. The passage to Anders’ clinic and its sticky key will stay a memory for me alone, still precious for all the pain of it now.
Hightown I leave to you, Stinton Fucking Forrester, and Lady Audrey and your awful husband; and to Jethann and the Rose; and to Aveline and Donnic and the rest of the guard who’ll have to clean up after my mess. I’m sorry for the wreckage I’ve sown in my wake; if you give me long enough I’ll be back to claim it. Raise the walls again, Aveline, and brace the buttresses against Sebastian’s rage. There will be blood in those streets again, but if I have any say in it it won’t be Kirkwall’s.
Give my love to Orana, Merrill. Keep her safe, and Bodahn and Sandal, wherever they’ve gone. Don’t let any Orlesian merchants come and bully her. I’ll be back. I’ll bring her a new shawl when I come, and I’ll take her to another mummer’s show, if she wants. Merrill, watch over the alienage. They need you as much as the vhenadahl for your protection.
Sebastian...be tempered. Don’t let the anger swallow you whole. If nothing else, I know Elthina taught you how to move through grief.
Keep Kirkwall safe for me, Varric. You’re the only one I know who loves her as much as I do, and you’re the only one I can trust to keep things running while I’m gone. Take as much of a percentage as you like from whatever you need of my funds. Void, take all of it. You’ve earned it and more. Isabela will bring me when we’re ready. I know the ports she sails for during a storm, now.
Anders
Anders, be well. Maker, be quenched, if not happy.
And Fenris—
I have nothing left for you, my darling, but all myself. You’ll have to settle for me and be satisfied. My love is a brutal thing, more prone to killing than kindness, but you knew this when you took me on. Let the thunder roll down around us as it will; I can bear anything so long as you stand beside me.
I do love you, Fenris. You don’t even need to tear my heart out to see how deep you’re written in me. Call me avis every once in a while and you’ll keep me in love for the rest of my life.
All right. All right, that’s enough. The ship has raised anchor with a rush of green seawater and the gulls are screaming, and Fenris keeps trying to steal my pen so I’ll wave the Call off. A good day for a parting, clear sunny skies and a clean wind, even if Varric’s too short for the rail and Isabela won’t look back at me. At least Merrill and Carver are waving.
All right. We’ve coin and food and a plan. More than I had the last time I fled my home. Fenris is with me, and that’s enough. He’s smiling at me even now, infinitely patient as I finish these last few words. How grateful I am! And he knows it, too, if the curled smile is any indication as he leans over my shoulder to read the last bits along with me. Avis, he says to me as he reads that passage, a bit surprised, though there’s still open tenderness in his voice.
That’s enough. I’m ready. Whatever comes next, I’ll meet it gladly. 
I’m ready.
end.
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jd-loves-fiction · 3 years
Note
Oberyn Martel smut please 🙏 (you know my limits)
🌙Gotta love prompt lists :))
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fantasy land, not a good example), voyeurism?, creampie, a hint of a breeding kink, P in V sex :))
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[11:48] "Sunflower?" Your lover, Oberyn, calls out to you as he's greeted by the warmth of the harsh sunlight and not of your body beside his.
"Good morning, my prince." You greet him in a warm, sultry tone, your voice buzzing through his veins like sweet dornish wine. You lean against the wall next to the door, having just stepped in, which was probably what awoke him.
Oberyn turns towards you, tangled in colorful silk sheets, still squinting against light, before his brows relax as his eyes land in you.
“Are you wearing my shirt?” His voice is deep and raspy while his eyes open wider to take more of you in. Your beautiful body, draped in a fine, flowy shirt, so long it should really be called a dress, open to reveal some loose pants. All in warm shades of yellow and orange and with sun details. No jewelry. You seem to have gotten up in a rush. But what a sight you are.
"Good morning to you too.” You chuckle, cheeks heated under his intense stare that sweeps over you, committing every detail to memory while you do the same to him. Silk sheets pooled around his waist as he sits against his hands, miles of tan skin on display beneath the golden light of morning. And what a sight he is.
A smirk curves your lips as push off the wall and start walking towards the Prince of Dorne. Your hands play with the shirt's edges teasingly, seemingly deep in thought.
“Wanna see what I’m wearing underneath all this?” One dark brow raises as words wrapped in honey leave your lips slowly, one knee on the bed as you look down at where he sits.
Warm fingers slip beneath the shirt's opening, brushing against your skin as he smirks, greatly amused by your brazen attitude.
Oberyn always did prefer the not so timid ones.
"Take it off. Slowly.” His eyes remain glued to yours as you begin undoing the buttons, revealing more and more skin, slowly, just like he asked.
The light fabric slides off your shoulders like water, falling to the floor like waves to reveal you bare underneath. Oberyn's eyes immediately zero in on all the newly freed skin unabashedly, drinking you in like a man parched. And hungry, by the look in his eyes.
“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”
"Good thing I'm the only one you have to focus on, right now." Your hands move to his shoulders as you lean forward until your breath brushes his lips. The Prince's hands moved around to your back, stroking your skin as his eyes bore into yours, never straying, even as yours did towards his lips.
Your beloved Prince is a patient man when it comes to love. So it's no surprise that you gave in before he did, pressing your lips hard against his.
Oberyn's hands pull you down onto the bed before he places his naked body over your yours, never once parting from your lips.
He takes the pants off of your body too, raising an eyebrow at the bareness beneath, before his lips descend upon your neck, leaving kisses and nips as he makes his way down.
"You see that mirror over there?" He asks, pointing towards a corner blindly as he refuses to let up on the marks he leaves on your skin. You spot what he was referring to and tell him so, rather quickly.
It's new, shiny and surrounded in gold leaf details like most things in the room. It mirrors their opulence as well as the abundant sunlight that enters he space. You nod at his question, still admiring the fine piece of decor.
"I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me.”
Oberyn Martell is nothing if not a creative lover.
You bite your lip at the image his words paint in your mind, so vivid and filthy.
Such is a poet's power.
"Come on." He says with a tap to your leg, sitting at the edge of the bed and waving you over with the soft wave of a hand. You sit between his spread legs, body limp over his as his hands immediately start exploring your body shamelessly. They grasp your breasts as his nose finds the side of your neck, taking in your familiar, comforting, scent.
His hands press you back to his chest as they wander down to your thighs, parting them until they're placed over his.
"Look at yourself, petal. I want you to see the beauty that I see. Even as I ruin you." He whispers directly into your ear as he digs his nails into your thighs, before one moves to hold your chin, turning it towards the mirror to ensure you’re looking in the right direction. Your eyes lock with his first, brown and filled to the brim with lust as they run over your skin, before they find your own and fuck.
You look like a mess already.
Bitten, spit-slick lips along with dark red cheeks and hazy eyes. Your chest rose and fell as Oberyn stares you down while massaging your thighs.
"My beautiful sunflower." He whispers sweetly, kissing beneath your ear as his fingers moved to your center. "My sun." You breathe back with a sign, turning your head to kiss your lover, unaware of his movements as his long fingers inch closer and closer to your core.
You jump as they make contact, hands flying to grip his arm in surprise as your noises are muffled by the prince's incessant lips. He teasingly brushes his fingers through your folds, only lightly nudging your clit on the way up and making your breathing stutter.
"Oberyn, please." You groan, looking into his eyes through the mirror and feeling his cock twitch against your back as you do.
"When you ask so nicely..." He trails off teasingly, winking at you in the mirror, before he slips one finger inside you, his other hand against your sternum as your back arches at the feeling of his finger so fucking deep already.
And then he fucking curls it, right against that spot that nearly makes your hips rise right off the bed. "Oh, already?" The damn tease asks, smirking beside your cheek as he knows the answer already.
"Your accuracy-- ugh, grows sharper everyday." You struggle to keep a steady tone but it falters and leaves you panting when the hand on your sternum drifts to join the other, right over you clit. "M-My sun."
His chest fills with pride at your praise. His ego needed no more stroking but, you just loved him too much not to tell him the truth of your feelings at any moment. This raw honestly is the base of your love, after all.
He inserts another finger in, as a reward of sorts, sucking dark marks onto your neck as you whimper while he stretches you.
As you breathe in deeply, attempting to get more air into your lungs to make up for all that you're losing with your pleasured gasping and panting, you smell something sweet and something spicy, no doubt from Oberyn's beloved candles. You remember calling him a mad man for having so many in a room filled with beautiful curtains and tapestries.
But his particular scent is overpowering, leather, the sea and something stronger that you can't identify. But it's him. And it smells warm and free.
"Come on, petal, eyes up." He reminds you gently as your eyes had fallen closed sometime during your reminiscing, briefly inserting another finger inside you. Before he pulled out, deeming you ready and himself impatient.
For all his patience, Oberyn Martell's blood runs hot with intense emotions only. And in this moment, he feels drunk on lust. He doesn't feel like waiting any longer.
"On your hands and knees." He orders, no nicknames, no sweetness, just pure need and a fading patience.
You do as he asks, arching your back to tempt him further and receiving a light smack to your behind as a warning.
He spreads your legs further until he's satisfied, lining his cock up with your soaking entrance. "Ready, sunflower?" It warms your heart that despite his fervent need to fuck you, he still asks if you're ready. You respond breathlessly with a 'yes'.
As his cock enters you, your breath leaves you along with any coherent thoughts. Even after so long, you're still caught off guard by him for the first few moments.
He nearly presses against your cervix once his hips meet your ass and the feeling makes your arms too weak to hold you up.
Your shoulders go down, and it feels as if he's moved even deeper if possible and it's giving your brain a hard time, mouth unable to close as drool escapes it.
"Oberyn! My love..." You moan and whimper as he starts thrusting, speed building until he's moving as fast as he does on the battlefield.
His hand settles over your throat, using it to pull you against his tan chest and to angle your face towards the mirror. "Look at yourself, my sunflower. See the beauty I get to see everytime I pleasure you." His voice was harsh, accent stronger than ever as he speaks, two skilled fingers moving over your clit quickly, urging you to show yourself the face he likes to tell you about after your passionate endeavors. He tells you it's the most beautiful sight he's ever been blessed with, and just seeing is enough to get him to the edge.
Perhaps it is simply a poet's flattery. But it's nice to hear nonetheless.
And now, you'll get to see it, if you can keep your eyes from rolling back, that is.
You try to call out your lover's name in between gasps and whimpers, but fail as his hips seem to speed up even more.
"Let yourself go, my love. And don't look away."
Your release consumes you, cum dripping down your thighs as Oberyn continues his movements mercilessly despite your trembling legs. Your hands grip his hair tightly, making him groan right into your ear as your cunt flutters around his cock.
"Oberyn, please-- fill me up, my prince, please." You babble out desperately as overstimulation begins to set in, making your vision blurry with tears and your whimpers even more high pitched.
"Fill you up, my petal? Oh, I can only imagine how beautiful you'd look swollen from my seed." He moans from deep within his chest, rumbling against your back as he drives himself crazy with his own words alone.
A few more thrusts and he spilt his cum inside you with moan that left you wet and wanting more all over again, before he placed a gentle kiss on your hair as he brushes it out of your face.
"You see it now, my sunflower? The gorgeous faces you make? Should get them painted, immortalized, no?"
Maybe it wasn't simply a poet's flattery.
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doodlegirl12345 · 3 years
Text
Mirror Image {1/5}
Happy early Halloween everyone! It’s Doodle here trying something new today with writing my first Halloween story with one of my favorite characters that enjoy writing about recently. I hope you like it as I never written one before.
So here’s the first part of my newest multiple part story: Mirror Image. I hope you like it!
Also available on Wattpad
Mirror Image
Deception.
Things aren’t always what they appear to be, often there is more than one side of the story. Sometimes it can be a common misunderstanding because we let our fears and prejudices do the talking. It’s easier to accept the simple answer for what’s wrong than to try to find the truth even if it does not align with your beliefs or biases. But there are moments when deception is created just to make rips and waves in relationships and friendships. To either create hysteria, destroy relationships or just complete utter malice.
The wind howled over the city of Paris, the days of fall were already numbered. Air has already become chillingly crisp and leaves have turned from forest green to shades of orange and light gold. The city was in that certain period where warmth of summer had disappeared but the icy grip of winter had yet the chance to intrude.
It was already the day before Halloween.
Filled with to the brim of activity, the Dupain-Cheng residence was experiencing liveness from above and below as the first floor’s bakery was occupied with clientele buying treats for tomorrow’s festivities. Meanwhile, on the top floor in Marinette’s bedroom, the majority of the designer’s best friends sat on the bedroom floor that was covered with old newspaper pages and various craft supplies strewn about. There are various colors of glitter and bottles of acrylic paint, spools of ribbon, glue, fabric swatches, fake flowers, paintbrushes, paper plates for pouring and applying paints, a pile of scrapbooking paper and many other crafting supplies and tools. The girls were chatting with each other while working on their own individual projects. Alya was arranging several fake silver roses across the band of a black witches’ hat with a silver brim. Alix started gluing a pair of large white fabric rabbit ears, one on each side of the black top hat that was sitting on her lap.
Rose began drawing a large outline of a crown on a piece of glittery gold scrapbook paper with a black sharpie. Right beside Rose, Julkea sat using a small paint brush and applied small specks of red paint to look like blood on a tattered white sash with black lettering that said: PROM QUEEN. Mylène cut off a long piece of sky blue ribbon from it’s spool with a pair of pink scissors. Then tied the ribbon around the neck of a tied a brown cairn plush toy before putting it into a brown wicker basket. Meanwhile in the midst of it Sabrina Raincomprix sat next the group dragging a sponge brush covered in a mixture of silver glitter and mod podge against a pair of white costume angel wings while in deep thought. Instead of her usual outfit, the redhead was wearing a chunky sunny yellow oversized sweater, black skinny jeans, black ankle boots, a silver charm bracelet and a matching silver metal headband with silver decorative leaves on the band.
She was thinking about what happened today at school wondering if she had the right to be mad for what happened to her.
Or that at this point it should just be expected.
To many people’s surprise in the past couple months Sabrina has become close friends with Marinette. It all started near the end of the previous school year when the two girls were paired up for the student biography project for their Ms. Bustier’s history class. It was rocky at first due to the ginormous blonde elephant in the room. But the girls were able to overcome their problems and became fast friends. Sabrina since then has apologized for her misdeeds. Things have gone well between the two girls as Marinette helped Sabrina discover her hobby of cosplaying, taught her simple sewing skills and helped design costumes for her social media page.
Sabrina had even befriended the rest of the girls after being invited to Marinette’s slumber party during the summer, cementing the group’s newfound closeness. Over time Sabrina had distanced herself from Chloè, eventually breaking off the troublesome friendship. As the redhead would rather embrace Marinette and the rest of her friends’ kindness than Chloè’s cruelty.
Today was another example of Marinette’s kindness as she invited the group this week to come over to her house for a small costuming party where the girls could finish up their costumes using Marinette’s crafting supplies for tomorrow’s event at the school. College Francoise DuPont’s first ever Halloween dance. The dance had been the talk of the school for weeks as the student council association decided to throw this year to help supplement their funding. The feeling of excitement was no different in this group as the girls continued to work on their costumes for them to be their very best.
The girls continued to chat while they worked when the bedroom’s trap door opened revealing Marinette coming up the stairs through the entrance with two white bakery boxes, a pack of napkins and a pack of paper plates in her arms. Trailing behind her was Kagami who was carrying a bag of plastic cups and a pitcher of apple cider.
“Finally we were able to get the food up here,” Marinette let out a sigh of relief as she placed the boxes in the center of where the girls were sitting. “Sorry it had taken so long girls, the bakery was so busy I was lucky to grab what I could.”
“It’s okay, M,” Alya said, still working on her hat. “Don’t sweat it.”
“It was so packed down there,” Kagami added, placing down the cups and pitcher beside the boxes.
“Yep it seems that everyone needs treats for tomorrow,” Marinette turned to Kagami. “Thanks for helping me bring up everything.”
“No problem, the last thing we needed are things dropping because you’re overwhelmed,” Kagami told her. “It was best that you didn’t carry all that stuff alone.”
The designer nodded then announced to the group. “Alright so I brought up a mixed dozen of apple cider donuts and pumpkin spice donuts in the box on the bottom. The box on top has mini caramel apple tarts and mini pumpkin tarts. Kagami brought up apple cider and the cups. If someone one doesn’t want apple cider then just say something as there are some water bottles in the fridge downstairs. I just didn’t bring it up as Kagami had enough to bring up without spilling something.”
Marinette passed around a bottle of hand sanitizer for the girls to use before eating. Afterwards Juleka opened up the box of tarts.
Rose took a mini pumpkin tart from the box and took a bite. “Wow these are great Marinette, if all the desserts that your parents are going to send over for tomorrow are half as good then the dance is going to be a success based on desserts alone.”
“Thanks Rose, I’ll tell my parents that you liked them. After this I gotta help them with packing all those Halloween cupcakes, brownies, tarts and candy apples,” Marinette told her. “My dad right now is in the back of the bakery starting to do the prep work for this large order.”
All the girls started to divide the sweets amongst themselves, continuing to talk about the dance at seven as they all had plans to hang out with each other. Sabrina grabbed two mini caramel apple tarts, putting them on a plate and poured herself a glass of apple cider, figuring that maybe listening to the chatter would take her mind off things.
It was better than thinking about…her.
Her friends continue to speak about the dance being held in the school’s courtyard utilizing both levels. Along with the Dupain-Cheng family’s bakery that the local pizza place was also going to cater, sending over multiple pizzas, various wing dings with assorted dipping sauces and garlic knots.
Then they discussed their costumes that they were working on for tomorrow. Marinette was going as a garden fairy, Alya was dressing up as Claudia, the celestial witch from her favorite fantasy tv show Midnight Coven and Kagami was dressing up as Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games movies. Alix was going as the white rabbit from the Alice in Wonderland tale, Rose planned to dress up like Princess Peach from the Super Mario Bros video games, Juleka was going to be a zombie prom queen, Mylène was going to be dress as Dorthony from The Wizard of Oz and Sabrina had decided to go as a angel. Hence the wings that the redhead was painting earlier. Few of the girls then mentioned their boyfriends’ costumes as they that were going to join them at the dance tomorrow.
Mylène told the group that Ivan was going to go as the grim reaper. Alya said that Nino was going as Dracula but was going to run the DJ booth for the majority of the night. Marinette said Luka was going to be a zombie rockstar. Kagami told the group that Adrien was going dressed up as Dread Pirate Roberts from one of his favorite movies: The Princess Bride.
Sabrina went back to working on her wings after she finished her tarts. When Kagami sat down beside her, holding a plate with three mini pumpkin tarts in one hand and a brown paper shopping bag in the other hand.
“Hey Brina,” the fencer placed her plate and shopping bag on the floor.
“Hi Kagami,” the redhead moved a bit to the side making more space for her friend.
The two girls had met each other at Marinette’s slumber party. Afterwards they exchanged numbers and started to hang out with each other sometimes with the group and other times just the two of them. They actually had a few things in common with being new to this friendship thing, often feeling the odd one out and most importantly they just simply enjoyed each other’s company. Sabrina was elated at the start of the school year to find out not only because her other friends were in Mrs. Burke class with her but so was Kagami.
“So considering what happened today,” her friend asked, pulling a pack of wooden skewers for her shopping bag. “Are you okay?”
“If you are talking about what in English class, I’ll rather delete that from my memory and not talk about it,” Sabrina told her looking at the crumbs on her own plate. “Especially since there are so many better things to talk about…like apple tarts.”
“You really think that talking about apple tarts is going to make you feel better?”
“Why not? It’s better than thinking about Chloè, at least apple tarts didn’t try to embarrass me in front of the class during my book report presentation. Neither did apple tarts treat me like a servant for nearly a decade or tormented my friends. Apple tarts also didn’t paint a target on my back for the rest of the school year to be their new pasty.”
“Wow, apple tarts sound great. Does anyone know how I can be their friend?” Marinette chimed in, she was sitting next to Alya while working on her pink flower crown. “But to be honest Sabrina, I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Me too,” Alya added. “So are you really alright?”
“Not really, I’m just annoyed and frustrated,” Sabrina sighed, throwing her head back. “I thought that finally I made it impossible for her to get underneath my skin, especially over the past couple weeks. But then she embarrassed me in front of the class and heckled me during my presentation.”
“If this is any consolation I thought that what happened was more distasteful on Chloè’s part than yours,” Mylène consoled her. “It was clear you were the victim.”
“I agree, she was acting like she was one of those YouTube commentary channels but ten times worse,” Juleka took a sip of her apple cider. “At least those channels can be funny and actually have wit. Plus she started to read off spoilers halfway through, like who does that?”
“I know I actually was considering reading that book before she ruined it,” Rose rolled her eyes. “She must have been reading off one of those reading summary sites.”
“A Garden By Another Name is still a good book, Rose,” Sabrina told her. “Even though she spoiled that Sylvester dies at the end it’s still worth it. I just hate how deliberate it all was.”
“It’s Chloè,” Alix poured herself another serving of apple cider. “Isn’t nearly everything she does is deliberate and malicious?”
“Well yeah,” Sabrina nodded. “But I think that she did this because she knows how much I hate public speaking. Back when we did projects together I would do all the work while she would present. It was one of the few good things from our friendship. But since I broke off our friendship she’s just been gunning for me.”
“Well at least Mrs. Burke pulled Chloè out of class during your presentation and talked to her,” Kagami reminded the group. “That should count as something, right?”
“I’ll doubt it,” Marinette told her. “Even our previous teacher Ms. Bustier pulled her out of class a few times around the end of the year and it didn’t make a difference.”
“Well it’s not that shocking,” Juleka said. “I mean even Ladybug and Chat Noir gave her a chance and she ruined it. That’s why she got replaced with Honeybee.”
“I like Honeybee better anyway,” Alix said. “She had my respect the moment she shut down Chloè from bullying her into giving up the bee miraculous on her first day.”
“Definitely, I was there, remember?” Alya added. “The moment before she said it was quiet you could hear a pin drop.”
“That’s one of the reasons why I like her,” Juleka said. “Plus she really helped us out when Pizza Creature attacked us during Marinette’s slumber party.”
“She’s gotten pretty popular these past couple months,” Marinette mentioned. “I even got Manon even asking me to make a doll of Honeybee for when she comes over. But I have been so busy lately I haven’t got the chance to sit down and do it.”
“If you are really in a pitch then you can just get one,” Kagami started on her fake arrows. “When Adrien and I went on our date to the arcade last Saturday. I saw a lot of Honeybee merchandise at the prize counter including plush dolls. You could take her there and help her win one, it could be a fun babysitting activity for the two of you.”
The girls continued talking, listing multiple positive traits of the most recent addition of the French Miraculous Hero Team. All that Sabrina could do is to keep her lips spreading into a smile so big that her face would break into two. She had a secret that she couldn’t tell anyone: she’s actually this Honeybee that the girls spoke so fondly of. It all happened the same day that she and Marinette were paired up for the history project. Her father was attacked by a villain named Lord Justice. Sabrina was approached by Ladybug to fill the spot of the bee miraculous holder that was forced to be vacant due to the disgrace of its previous user. At first Sabrina rejected the offer due to loyalty for her former friend. But after long winded hesitation she had accepted growing into the role nicely. Just last Thursday she had helped Ladybug and Chat Noir fight the sentimonster null-void who was paired with the villain Trap Master.
“Sabrina you’re smiling,” Kagami pointed out to her friend. “So do you feel at least a little bit better?”
“Oh definitely,” the redhead giggled, wondering if the other heroes felt this way when others talked about them in the third person or was that just her? “Much better.”
“So wait, is Chloè going to the dance tomorrow?” Rose asked the group.
“From what I heard, yes,” Mylène told the blonde. “She was telling everyone who was willing to listen this morning before class started that she was going, wearing a custom made costume from New York.”
“Oh great,” Sabrina’s smile dropped.
“Right when I thought I already had my weekly dose of Chloè. I wonder what she is going to pull this time, tomorrow is going to be Halloween after all.”
“You know maybe some of us should ditch our costumes and dress as security guards to protect Sabrina,” Alix suggested. “Just in case Chloè tries anything.”
“Wait,” the redhead looked over to her. “Are you actually serious?”
“Well maybe not about ditching the costumes as I literally already bought everything for mine,” the rollerblader admitted. “But having your back so Chloè doesn’t mess with you tomorrow, I can do that.”
“Me too,” Marinette told her.
“And me,” Alya added.
“I will also,” Kagami said.
The rest of the girls nodded in agreement saying that they also had Sabrina’s back for tomorrow.
“You all would really do that for me?” the redhead asked the group.
“Of course, Sabrina,” Rose told her. “You are our friend now and friends have each other’s backs.”
Sabrina smiled as she was so touched. Moments like this reminded her that she finally made the right decision when it came to choosing her new friendships.
“Thank you girls, that really means a lot to me. Hopefully, there won’t be anything to worry about. Either way, let’s hope that tomorrow is a drama free night for once,” she raised her cup of cider. “Here’s to a drama free night?”
The girls looked at each other then picked up their cups saying in unison, “Here’s to a drama free night!”
The following night’s pitch black night sky was clear as air was cold and the streets were crowded. People in costumes were roaming the streets with the intention of attending holiday festivities or attempting to gain free Halloween candy from going door to door. At the College Francoise DuPont multiple students stood on the building’s steps in costumes meeting with friends and waiting in line for admission into dance from the ticket table. Located on the final step of stairs in front of the building’s doors.
A Paris police car pulled up in front of the school. Once the car was parked Sabrina stepped out wearing her costume. A long sleeveless white lace layered dress that went a little bit beyond her knees with a matching white lace shrug, solid white tights underneath, a pair of closed toe white wedges, a small silver purse with a matching silver chain strap, a solid white hairband and a long plastic pearl necklace with matching bracelets. She looked over at the line of people on the steps then smiled back at her father who was in the driver’s seat of the police cruiser.
“Thanks for dropping me off, Dad,” Sabrina told her father through the opened passenger side door. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem Sweetie,” he told her, reaching down on the bottom of the passenger seat pulling out her pair of angel wings. “But I think you’re forgetting these without them your costume doesn’t make too much sense.”
“My wings!” Sabrina took them and slid them on akin to backpack straps. “Thanks I just was so excited I totally forgot.”
“I hope that is the only thing you have forgotten. You got your phone and house keys right? Remember Officer Richardson promised to pick you up tonight at eleven since her shift ends around the same time as the dance. Since I have a late shift tonight. But you’re still responsible for letting yourself back in. If not I do have a spare key with me but can’t do anything about your phone.”
“I got them, Dad,” Sabrina opened up her purse pulling out her house keys and cellphone. “I also got my ticket for the dance too.”
“Good, remember if there is an emergency call Officer Jenkins to pick you up as she’s on desk duty tonight and agreed to be your emergency ride,” her father said as Sabrina put her phone and keys back into her purse. “But have fun with your friends.”
“Trust me I will, now I should go as the doors close at eight and the line is already long. So just stay safe tonight Dad.”
“Will do.”
Sabrina waved goodbye at her father then shut the door before walking toward the steps of the school. She stood in line, once it was her turn the redhead approached the ticket table. The ticket taker at the table was a girl who was Sabrina’s age. She had ebony skin, long jet black hair done in microbraids that was pulled into a low bun and kind almond brown eyes. The girl was wearing a blue and silver full length princess ball gown with a name tag sticker with the name Chantelle written in black sharpie on the dress’ bodice, white full length gloves and a silver plastic tiara. From the look at her costume, it was clear that she was dressed as the fairy tale princess Cinderella.
“Hi, I really like your costume. You look really pretty,” Sabrina smiled. “You’re dressed as Cinderella right?”
“Yeah thanks,” Chantelle smiled but then started to look at the angel intensely.
“Um…is everything alright?” Sabrina asked, noticing the staring.
“Yeah it’s just…didn’t I already let you in the dance a few minutes ago?” The ticket taker asked. “I remember letting someone in who had red hair and was wearing the exact same costume as you.”
“Uh no, I just got here,” she told her, pulling out her ticket, a square of orange card stock with black font. “Here’s my ticket if you don’t believe me.”
The angel handed over the ticket to Chantelle who looked over and examined it.
“Looks legit,” said the Cinderella, putting it in the metal box on the table. She then reached underneath the table pulling out a basket with orange rubber wristbands handing Sabrina one. “Here’s your wristband. Just wear this during the dance as it lets everyone know that you gave your ticket at the door. Sorry for questioning you, I guess the costumes are starting to blur together for me. Just in the last couple minutes I have let seven Ladybugs and six Chat Noirs.”
“It’s no problem, Chantelle,” Sabrina slid on her wristband. “Thanks for the wristband.”
“We’ll have fun at the dance,” Chantelle told her while Sabrina walked through the entrance of the building.
Soon as Sabrina entered into the school’s courtyard she could hear a blast of music as she stepped onto the courtyard’s steps. Suddenly there were the sounds of birds squawking and thunder rumbling while eerie music played on top of it. Singers started to vocalize with other unsettling sound effects before the vocals started between a trio with harmonious singing.
🎶 I see you jump, coming down with goosebumps
If you dare to go there, you’re gonna get so scared.
(They’re haunting you) (Yeah because they’re wanting to).
All ghouls, ghosts, the zombies coming back from the dead.
Watch out before you lose your head.
They’re haunting you) (Yeah because they’re wanting to).
All the essential guests, this scene is not a dream.
I can already hear you scream.
Body shaking in a nightmare that you won’t ever be awaking…🎶
From the appearance of her surroundings it was clear that the dance committee had turned the plain courtyard into the ultimate Halloween party zone. Fake cobwebs and spiders plastered the walls. Plastic skeletons and large ghoulish figures surrounded the entrance and throughout the courtyard. Dusty fixtures that looked like they were lifted from a haunted house such as candle operas and small pieces of furniture. Jack-o’-lanterns were placed in the corners. Beyond the steps of the courtyard was a dance floor filled with students dressed in various costumes from classic movie monsters and ghouls to TV show characters and real life superheroes.
Next the dance was the DJ booth that was covered with fake cobwebs where Nino was working the turntables. He was dressed as Dracula, wearing a long sleeve white frilled shirt with a burgundy vest, black trousers, white gloves, black dress shoes, plastic fangs in his mouth and a black cape with a large vampire collar. There was a faint smell of garlic that must have been coming from the long buffet table near the dance floor. On one side of the table had a large punch bowl with orange fruit punch, cans of soda and bottled water. For the main entree down the table there were multiple paper plates with two slices of pizza with various toppings each, three large aluminum warming trays filled with wing dings, and two large trays of garlic knots.
Dessert was platters of Halloween cupcakes, brownies, mini pumpkin tarts and caramel apple tarts, and individually wrapped candy apples. All the food was up for grabs as it was clearly self-serve. On the perimeter of the courtyard was a few white circular tables with a bowl of various fun size candies for the attendees to sit down, eat and relax. Both the levels were being utilized as the top level where people played Halloween theme carnival games such as the bean bag toss and the ring toss. Overall the whole dance set up was pretty wicked.
Sabrina looked around very impressed as this looked nothing like the drab courtyard that she had walked through yesterday before going to Marinette’s place. The angel started to look through the crowd to look for her friends as Marinette texted in the group chat that she, Luka, and Juleka were going to try to snag some tables in the back. So everyone in their large group could have a seat since the three of them were going to be one of the first ones here due to helping with the bakery’s catering delivery. Sabrina noticed on the dance floor a girl with long brown curly hair and fair skin was dressed as her superhero persona, Honeybee. The girl’s brown curly hair was pulled in a high ponytail with a black headband ribbon like antennas, she had a plastic gold hair comb in her hair. Her suit had a black collar that covered her neck and little beyond her shoulders, full length black gloves with fluffy pollen-like cuffs and torso and rib cage was bright yellow with a large v shaped stripes across the chest and two thinner v shaped striped stripes underneath. The bottom half was black pants with black knee high boots with a yellow triangle knee and yellow wedge heels at the bottom. On her face was a domino mask which was divided longways with the top being yellow while the bottom was black. The girl was dancing with two other girls who were dressed as Ladybug and Rena Rouge.
Oh my gosh! Someone actually came dressed as me…well Honeybee? Sabrina thought. Yesterday I thought that the girls were exaggerating but I guess the Honeybee hype is real! Maybe I should compliment the girl’s costume or would that be too arrogant-“
However before she could finish that thought Sabrina heard a familiar voice behind her cutting into her thoughts.
“You know I think it’s pretty funny that you decided to dress up as an angel considering what you just did, Sabrina.”
Sabrina felt her blood run cold as she spun on around her heel afraid to see if it was who she thought. But as soon as she did, her eyes narrowed.
It was Chloè.
The angel’s former friend was wearing a red and black poofy medieval styled dress with vertical glittery gold and red trim with the center of the dress’ bodice had a row of red glittery hearts. The dress had a sweetheart neckline, a white laced Medici collar, short puffy sleeves, a two layered skirt that went a little beyond her knees with the bottom layer being all black tulle while the outer layer was black dotted with red glittery hearts. She was also wearing black tights, black high heel ankle booties, a circular black cross body bag on her shoulders and a gold crown sat on her head in one of the rare moments that the mayor’s daughters had her hair down.
“Oh hi, Chloè,” Sabrina gave her the coldest of glares.
“Don’t look at me like that!” the mayor’s daughter snapped. “I was just commenting on your costume.”
“Well what are you supposed to be?”
“Duh, isn’t it obvious? I’m the Queen Of Hearts. You know from Alice In Wonderland.”
“So you’re dressed as a belligerent queen?” the angel asked, her tone was condescending. “Oh Chloè honey, this Halloween dance you’re not supposed to come as yourself.”
Suddenly Chloé’s face burned bright red from anger. “Hey I was trying to be nice here and was going to compliment you for what happened with Loser-nette and her friends. It’s clear you ditched them after finally realizing how lame they are!”
“Loser-nette? Wait, are you talking about Marinette?”
“Of course who else? I mean look at her costume! A fairy? What is she, three years old? But in all seriousness, did you do all that to impress me or something? If that’s the case I might be able to forgive you for acting out these past couple months. I thought that I was harsh but it is clear that you definitely have a mean streak too. So could be friends again and just in time too. My closet is such a mess you can reorganize again just like in the old days!”
Chloè grabbed her hand which caused Sabrina to yank it away flabbergasted. “What? No! What are you talking about Chloé?! If we are talking about apologies and forgiveness then you owe me for trying to embarrass me in front of the class during my book report presentation yesterday!”
“Oh please don’t act all high and mighty considering what you have done,” Chloè pointed an accusatory finger at her. “No wonder that we were friends, we’re so much alike.”
“I’m nothing like you!” Sabrina hissed. “Also don’t you dare even call Marinette a loser again. She’s been twice the friend in these few months compared to what you have been for almost a decade! She doesn’t belittle me or hit me like you used to do. So I don’t know what mind games that you are trying to play with me tonight. But I’m not dealing with it so leave me alone!”
The angel then spun around on her heel matching down the courtyard’s steps in a huff.
“The nerve of Chloè,” Sabrina thinking started to take deep breaths to calm herself down. She entered into the crowd to find her friends. “Wait until the group hears this, she’s really unbelievable.”
After walking toward the back of the courtyard Sabrina spotted her friends sitting at two round tables in the back.
“Hey everyone,” she approached the tables. “Happy Hallo-whoa what the heck happened here!?”
The angel’s eyes widened in complete shock as she looked at her friends who were in utter disarray. She looked over at the table left of her where Marinette, Luka, Alya, Kagami and Adrien sat. Marinette sat at the table, her loose hair and flower crown soaking wet as trails of what looked like orange fruit punch dripped from her face, shoulders and neck. Droplets of the orange liquid stained on her dress, a soft pink full length dress with spaghetti straps decorated with fake pink flowers and green leaves. On the dress’ corset bodice there were stains of bright orange cupcake frosting and white sprinkles smeared into the fabric and fake flowers. The glittery pink wings on Marinette’s back were bent as if someone had tried to crumble them but stopped halfway through.
Luka sitting next to the garden fairy, like her, his hair and face was soaking wet with orange fruit punch. His full face of zombie make up was dripping leaving gray streaks contrasting with his natural skin complexion. The faux leather jacket that he was wearing was covered with cupcake frosting and his distressed t-shirt with a graphic of a zombie’s rib cage had orange punch stains. His ripped jeans caked with frosting and a dark amber brown liquid that looked like barbecue sauce. The only parts of Luka’s costume that were not covered with food were his black converse sneakers and black fingerless gloves. Sabrina noticed that the zombie rockstar’s eyes were red, not colored contacts but it looked like they were irritated as if someone got into them.
Alya sat at the table with her witch’s hat on the table next to the candy bowl. The hat looked like someone had stomped on as a few of the silver roses were missing and dirt was on the brim. The celestial witch was covered with pizza stains and dipping sauces. Alya’s costume a black lace half jacket, had stairs with what looked like ranch and buffalo sauce on the collar, back and sleeves, her black lace front dress and black tights with speaks of silver glitter was covered with pizza sauce, cheese, pepperoni and sausage. Her black ankle booties were wet with fruit punch. The only thing that was still intact beside her glasses was her jewelry: a silver crescent moon pendant and a pair of large silver hoop earrings with silver star charms threaded through the hoops.
Kagami stewed with annoyance and anger as she had brownie stains, spots of ranch dressing and barbecue sauce stains on her black unity jacket with gold mockingjay pin and black t-shirt, her olive green pants had punch stains at the bottom that was dripping on her soft brown over the ankle boots. Adrien sat in his Dread Pirate Roberts even though he was wearing all black you could still see the food stains as cupcake icing streaked his black v neck pirate shirt and black pants. His black skull cap, black masquerade mask and sash was soaked with orange punch, leather gloves were covered with ranch dressing and his pirate boots covered with smooshed brownie crumbs.
It was no better at the other table as Rose sat in her Princess Peach costume, a bright pink princess ball gown with puffy sleeves covered with brownie stains and had a candy apple stuck to the skirt of her dress. Her white full length gloves covered with red candy coating as if she tried to pull off the candy apple. The gold crown on her head looked lopsided as if someone tried to pull it off her head, the poor girl looked like she was about to cry any moment. Juleka sitting next her got the similar treatment as her brother as zombie makeup streaked her face contrasting with her natural complexion. Her black glittery tattered prom dress with puffed sleeves and PROM QUEEN sash was covered with flakes of red candied residue from the candy apple and soak with cola. Ranch dressing covered her black full lace gloves and specks of orange frosting covered her silver plastic tiara and dark hair that was pulled into an updo.
Alix had buffalo sauce and ranch dressing on her black overcoat of her white rabbit costume. Brownie stains on her white vest shirt and black shorts making her clean black and white striped tights and black combat boots out of place. Noticeably Alix did not have the top hat that she had worked on yesterday. Mylène’s blue pinafore dress for her Dorothy costume was covered with smeared brownie stains and barbecue sauce. Her hair that was pulled into twin pigtails had orange icing and cupcake crumbs. Lastly Ivan sat beside his girlfriend with cupcake and brownie stains on the black cloak of his grim reaper costume. On the table there was a plastic skull mask with a large crack in the middle.
The floor around them was littered with remains of pizza, brownies, wing dings, cupcakes, candy and candied apples.
The group collectively glared at her.
Kagami narrowed her eyes, voice cold as ice. “Did you seriously just ask us that?”
“Um yeah? It looks like all you went through a food fight. Or is this an abstract group costume that no one sent me a text about?” Sabrina nervously laughed as she saw her friend’s features did not soften. “It’s not the best time to joke now, is it?”
“You know Sabrina, you have some real guts coming back here after what happened,” Alix told her. “You are either the bravest person that I ever met or the most stupid.”
The angel raised a brow, completely confused. “Excuse me?”
“Nah Alix, I don’t think it’s stupidity that caused her to come back here,” Alya glared at the angel. “I would say audacity knowing she did.”
“To be honest the whole thing was just an act of betrayal. Especially to the people who were brave enough to give her a second chance,” said Juleka. “So much for a drama free night, huh Sabrina?”
“What are you talking about?” Sabrina asked.
Rose slammed her hands on the table standing up from her seat. “Sabrina, I thought that we were friends!”
“We are Rose,” she walked toward her friend as she looked like she was going to cry. “Why would you ask that?”
“Then why did you do this to us?!” the blonde asked back.
“Wait, do you all think that I did this?” Sabrina asked.
“Think? We know we did, just minutes ago you came here starting to throw food on us after dumping some punch on Marinette’s head!” Luka told her, he looked angry and disgusted.
“What? I would never do that!” Sabrina said. “Why would you say that?”
“He said that because it happened. You brought food from the buffet table and threw it on us!” Adrien chimed in. “What you couldn’t throw you smeared on our costumes. Ring any bells? You were literally laughing your head off. By the way, can I have my plastic sword back?”
“Your what?” the angel asked.
“My plastic sword,” he told her. “You took it and I want it back. Also give back Kagami’s quiver and arrows too. You literally stanched it off her back.”
“My hat too,” Alix added.
“I also want my basket back too please,” Mylène pleaded. “That Toto plush that was in it was the gift that Ivan got me for Valentine’s Day. It’s practically irreplaceable.”
“But I never took those things-“ Sabrina started.
“At least she didn’t kick you in the shin,” Luka crossed his arms. “Seriously, what are those shoes steel toed?”
“Wait, now you all are saying that I stole from you and even hit Luka?!” the angel exclaimed. “Okay is this some twisted Halloween prank or something? If it is, then stop it right now, I’m not laughing!”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Alya said.
“But I didn’t do anything!” she told her. “How could I when I just got here?”
“But we all saw you Sabrina. You dumped some punch on Marinette, hit Luka and threw food on us. Now if you just explain why you did it then maybe we…” Rose started but looked around at the group who had the look of disapproval on their faces. “I mean I might forgive you for what happened.”
“BUT I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Sabrina screamed out of frustration causing Rose to reel back. “Is that loud enough for you all here to get it!”
Juleka stood up from her seat stepping in front of Rose putting an arm protectively in front of her girlfriend. “Okay you need to watch your tone.”
“Why? You’re all treating me like a criminal!”
“So you think that yelling is going to make us believe you? Especially when we all saw you do it?”
“It must have been someone else!”
“Oh yes, because you have a secret twin sister that no one knew about until now,” Alix said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is that the lie you’re going with?”
“But I’m not lying!” Sabrina hissed at her.
The group went back and forth with Sabrina, some of them practically giving testimonials about what she had supposedly done to them. Some of them were demanding her to confess while others were simply demanding an explanation on what happened. Sabrina denied it all stating that what they all described was far from the truth asking them why would she do any of that to people that she considered friends.
“That’s what we want to know, Sabrina,” Alya stood right in front of her. “After all we’ve been through, you would turn on us so quickly without remorse.”
“But that’s the thing Alya, think about these past couple months. All of you have been so nice to me,” Sabrina reminded the group. “You all have made me realize that friendship doesn’t have to be just one sided. Think, why would I want to ruin all that? Especially when I value all your friendships so much?”
The group all looked at each other as if the words that Sabrina said got them all to consider for a second.
But then Ivan simply said. “Well I saw you were talking to Chloè before you came back here.”
Sabrina’s eyes widened as if she had gotten caught while there was a collective gasp from the group causing questioning faces turn back into harsh glares.
“Why would you say that?” Sabrina asked him.
“What are you calling Ivan a liar now?” Mylène demanded.
“No! I mean she did approach me when I got here-” the angel started.
“So is this what you’ve been doing the whole time?!” Kagami stood up interrupting her, clear hurt was in her eyes. “You were pretending to be our friend so you could just backstab us for Chloè?! You’ve been nothing but a liar!”
“Kagami, I would never lie to you,” Sabrina told her. “We’re best friends, remember?”
“Then you remember how much I don’t tolerate disrespect,” her best friend’s features hardened.
“Actually it makes sense that Chloè is involved somehow,” Alix said. “This is Sabrina we are talking about.”
Sabrina turned to the white rabbit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What I mean is that the only time you really act up is when Chloè is involved,” she explained. “You stole Marinette’s diary last year to help Chloè win the class election. You also helped steal her Marinette’s hat design for Adrien’s dad’s competition.”
“You also locked me in the bathroom during picture day,” Juleka added.
“Juleka, I thought we were past that!” Sabrina told the zombie prom queen. “Besides, I’m in a much better place now! I’m my own person!”
“If you are your own person then how about you own up to your actions and tell the truth,” Luka told her. “Instead of pretending it didn’t happen.”
“I am telling the truth! Why won’t anyone believe me?!” Sabrina snapped at him. She then looked at Marinette who had remained practically silent during the whole confrontation. “Marinette, what about you? You haven’t said anything during all this. You don’t believe them, right?”
Marinette looked at her, eyes shining with pain and disappointment. “I want to believe you Sabrina, I really do. But like the others I know what I saw. You did this, I just want to know why as I thought we were friends.”
Sabrina’s features hardened with anger and sadness, crying out. “I can’t believe this, after all we’ve been through these past couple months none of you believe me! If I knew things would turn out like this! I…I WOULD HAVE SACRIFICE ALL YOU GIRLS TO PIZZA CREATURE INSTEAD OF MYSELF!!!”
There was a beat of silence as the girls of the group glared at her. Instant regret appeared after those words came from of Sabrina’s lips.
“I-I-I didn’t mean that…” she trailed off.
“Sabrina, I really think you should-“ Alya started.
“It’s just you all been pushing my buttons for the past couple minutes,” Sabrina interrupted, looking like she was about to cry. “Something bad was bound to slip out.”
“I think you should leave,” said the celestial witch. Her voice sounded somewhat sympathetic but stern. “It would be best for everyone if you did.”
The angel looked around at the group hoping that someone would come from her defense. But the looks of her supposed friends said otherwise as some avoided eye contact while others looked straight at her as if they wished that she was dead.
“What are you looking at us for?” Juleka asked icily. “SHE SAID LEAVE!”
Without any other choices, Sabrina did what she was told as tears started to appear in the corner of her eyes. She held her head up high, walking away from her friends, disappearing into the crowd. Before her resolve crumbled into full blown sobbing as she entered the nearby girl’s bathroom.
The angel ran into a stall locking it as she didn’t want anyone to see her cry as confusion swirled in her mind. She leaned against the stall door wondering possessed her friends to treat her this way? How could she forgive them after this? Did she even want to? If she didn’t, wouldn’t she be alone and friendless? Would she have to go back to Chloè? Has she sunk so low without even realizing it?
These kinds of questions paddled back and forth in her thoughts.
Suddenly she heard the bathroom door swing open and a pair of footsteps entered into the bathroom. Sabrina stood still as she was not ready to talk to people
even if it just was simple human interaction. Especially being a sobbing mess right now. Seconds later the door swung open again as the sound of sets of footsteps entered the bathroom.
“Hey! Don’t you two girls see this bathroom is occupied!” a very familiar voice yelled. “So get out!”
A beat of silence went by Sabrina listened closely. That voice was so familiar, identical even.
“Don’t be stupid and act like you didn’t hear me!” the familiar voice continued it sounded like they were near growling. “Get out now before you regret it!”
The door swung open again as it sounded like the two girls, whoever they were, exited the bathroom.
That voice, it sounds just like mine. Sabrina thought while unlocking the stall door.
She stepped out of the stall letting the door swing behind her as she saw it leaning against the bathroom’s sink or more like her?
A redheaded girl wearing the exact same costume, same long sleeveless white lace layer dress that went a little bit beyond her knees with a matching lace shrug, solid white tights underneath, a pair of white wedges, a small silver purse with a matching silver chain strap, a solid white hairband and a long plastic pearl necklace with matching bracelets.
Her facial features, hair, body and build was exactly the same as Sabrina, right down to the finest detail.
A complete mirror image.
The mirror image simply smiled ignoring Sabrina’s stunned expression, saying in poor girl’s own voice:
“There you are Sabrina. It’s been so long since we had talked.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End Of Part 1
Thanks for reading! 😊
OMG! Sabrina has a double! Who or what is this double? Where did this double come from and what are their plans? Why did they attack Sabrina’s friends? Will Sabrina fix everything or will she lose her friends forever? Find out in part 2 of Mirror Image!
I hope you like this story. As mentioned before this is my first time writing a Halloween story so this is uncharted territory for me. This story was inspired by two episodes from the well known anthology series The Twilight Zone. If you never heard of it I highly recommend it if you like spooky horror stuff. Note the original series is in black and white as it came out in the late 1950s/ early 1960’s. However there’s tons of clips on YouTube if you’re curious.
The episodes that I’m referring to “Mirror Image” (hence the name) which talk about the concept of doubles and doppelgängers. While the second episode is “The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street” that talks about group paranoia and turning on each other.
I thought it would be interesting to lean more with the uncanny instead straight up horror with this one. But again if suddenly I found a random clone of me in my life like Sabrina I would count it is horror story. I would have so many questions like how did they get here?
Overall, I hope you like this story as I actually started concepts in late September. At first I was considering it either a Marinette, Alya or Kagami story. But it just didn’t fit so considered dusting off Honeybee Sabrina as this was a AU story anyway. Plus it made the group feelings of betrayal being more plausible as Alix mentioned in the story. While Marinette, Alya and Kagami does not have that background so it would not much sense compared to Sabrina.
Hopefully the rest of the story will be satisfying for everyone. Due to timing and me being a student the last part may or not be posted on Halloween. If not the following week in November but this story will be finished eventually.
If you made it this far I really appreciate it.
The song for this week is “Calling All The Monsters” (2021) by Thriii featuring Messager. Funny enough I might be showing my age here but I loved the original one while I was a kid. So I was delighted to find a new version right around the time I was writing. If it not obvious the lyrics in this one are inspired by this song. Here’s the lyric video
I’ll just put this right here: I DID NOT WRITE THE ORIGINAL LYRICS. HOWEVER THE STORY ITSELF WAS WRITTEN BY ME.
Mirror Image {1/4} is also available on Wattpad.
See you next time! 👋
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val-aquenta · 3 years
Text
Last day of Mace Windu Appreciation Week! The prompt: Freeform.
Here on ao3
A little fluffy moment betwen Knight Mace WIndu and Youngling Obi-Wan Kenobi. Thank you all for reading!
Mace had never meant to return to the Temple yet. As a new knight, he was meant to be out and about on missions, resettling into the sway of travelling without a Master, yet here he was. Staring down at a young child who was looking rather tearful. He knelt quickly, one hand lingering on his knee. The boy was red in his face and looked, in Mace’s opinion, positively adorable. “Forgive me, young one, I did not see you there.” There was a soft sniffle and the boy rubbed his face before looking back up, his expressions more in control. He smiled, “There you are. Now, did I hurt you?”
The boy shakes his head, looking at his hands. Oh my Force, he’s so tiny. His hands! Mace thinks watching as the boy stands up and looks up at him. “No, Master…”
Mace gently shakes his head, “I’m a knight, young one, not a Master yet. My name is Mace Windu. What’s yours?” Mace prompts.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The boy, Obi-Wan shifts slightly, looking around before turning and looking back at Mace. 
“Do you have anywhere you’re supposed to be?” He asks, head tilting slightly to the side. 
Obi-Wan looks at him with a soft smile. “Yes? But… Bant left me behind on accident, so I… I think I’m lost.” The boy’s face scrunches up in confusion. “I’ve just been walking around…” 
“And managed to get into the closed-off section?” Mace hums. He stands up. “If you would like, I can take you back to the creche?” Obi-Wan nods, stepping closer to Mace and reaching out to tug on his fingers. 
“Do you think Master Dolan will be angry?” Earnest eyes raised at him. He swears there’s a little sparkle in those eyes. 
“I think he's likely worried, Obi-Wan.” Mace looks around for a second and then begins leading the way out of the closed sector of the Temple. Back when there were more Jedi, these rooms would have been used, but now that their populations dwindled entire sections were closed off as keeping them running simply became too costly for the meagre funds the Republic sent their way. He looks down at Obi-Wan, consciously slowing his pace so that the child can keep up comfortably. Obi-Wan is quiet, remarkably so. His steps are soft little pads on the stone floor. There is a light humming coming from his companion. A song from the creche, he recalls quickly. 
“Knight Windu, how old are you?” Mace raises his brows at Obi-Wan who flushes. “I-I’m sorry Master, you don’t have to answer.” 
“Not to worry, Obi-Wan. I don’t mind, but take note that many other beings do mind.” Obi-Wan nods. “I’m 22.” 
There is a pause before the boy murmurs, “15?” Mace looks down at the boy in confusion, sending a small pulse into the Force. Obi-Wan looks up and startles a little. “Oh… 15 years difference. Between you and me.”
“So you’re… 7?” Obi-Wan nods, seeming very proud of his age. “Very old, huh?”
“Master Dolan says that soon I’ll be able to get my own crystal to build my sabre, though the power will have to be re,” Obi-Wan pauses to suck in a short breath, “regulated. Is your lightsaber regulated, Knight Windu?”
“Sometimes. If I’m sparring with friends for example. Or teaching young 7-year-olds.” He smiles gently, indicating the boy to turn left. “Here we are, just a little bit more.”
“Can I see? Please?” Obi-Wan looks at him. “What colour is it? And what about your hilt design. I’m not sure what I’d want from my hilt, or my regulator or anything, but Master Dolan says that I’ll know when the Force wills it. Did the Force tell you about your sabre, Knight Windu?” Mace blinks, a little shocked before a smile tugs the corners of his lips up. 
“I suppose it did.” He hums thoughtfully. “I had a plan, I suppose, a vague idea of what I wanted the hilt to be made of, the approximate size, the feel of it in my hand, but I had no idea how it would actually look until I made it.” He unclips his sabre, showing the general size and shape. “And the colour of the blade? Now that was a surprise.” Leaning away he thumbs it on, the purple hilt bursting forth with a comforting hum. Obi-Wan’s eyes are wide as plates, shining in the purple light. Mace thumbs it off after a moment, clipping it onto his belt. “But, perhaps you will have a different experience. Shaak, that is Knight Ti, she had a pretty detailed diagram of her lightsaber, though she tweaked it a little when she built it.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen purple. Why is it purple?” Obi-Wan shuffles closer, looking up at him. “I’ve seen all kinds of colours between green and blue and yellow and orange and I think I saw a white blade once, but I’m not sure. I was really small. But I’ve never seen purple.”
“I don’t know why it’s purple. It simply is.” Obi-Wan, if possible, looked even more enthralled. “And you? What blade do you think you will have?”
“Well… when I have visions, I see different blades all the time. Sometimes they’re all black and rough while sometimes they’re gold and silver. Master Yoda says that it's because there are so many futures and I see different ones.” He pauses for a moment. “I do want a type three aurek silver hilt, though. They feel right.”
“Uh-huh.” Mace smiles. The young boy is truly endearing with the way he talks at such a rapid speed, stopping quickly for breaths and breaks. “Oh… we’re almost here. Do you know where you are meant to be?”
Obi-Wan looks up at him. “Well… Master Dolan said we were going to go to visit the archives.” He paused for a moment, hand fiddling with the edge of his sleeve before Obi-Wan looked up. “I don’t know where it is, though.” Mace blinked and smiled softly, projecting a soft reassurance, something that he recalled his creche master doing whenever he was overwhelmed by something. 
“It is no problem, Obi-Wan. I can take you to the archives, and we’ll find Master Dolan together, alright?” He reaches down and offers his hand. 
“Are you… sure?” He speaks with hesitation layering his voice. “I mean, Master Dolan says that Jedi are busy. Aren’t you busy?” Nevertheless, Obi-Wan reaches out and places his small hand in Mace’s trotting along beside Mace as they walk towards the archives.
“I’m on a break,” Mace admits, smiling at a friend who gives them a strange look before shrugging and hurrying along. The pack on their shoulder indicates a new mission.
Obi-Wan goes through the information before nodding seriously. “Master Aliya says that it’s important to have breaks during difficult tasks to not burnout.” The young boy lets out a huff before continuing, “I guess it makes sense you’re resting.” Mace almost wants to laugh, but he fears that the endearingly serious face would lift off of Obi-Wan’s face. 
“I would hope it does,” he offers seriously instead, squeezing Obi-Wan’s hand as they turn a corner almost running right into Master Rancisis. They manage to sidestep, getting a humoured look from the old Master before he slithers down the hallway. They’re almost there, and Mace feels strangely sad about it. The youngling had managed to burrow his way into his heart easily. Kira would say that most things manage to burrow their way into his heart, but he thinks even she would have problems saying no to Obi-Wan’s large eyes. “We’re almost here.”
Obi-Wan perks up, studying the hallway intently, wanting to memorise the route. “Master Yoda told us that the archives are one of the best-kept databases in the Republic. Have you ever seen another like it?” Mace thinks of the seemingly endless rows of blue holos as well as the flimsi copies kept in a more controlled environment to protect them from environmental damage. Indeed, many universities find their way into the database to use it for research. There is an open policy for the archives, though only a select few can change the contents within. He would say that no, he had not seen a library as vast and diverse and well kept as the archives, but he is not sure how much of that statement comes from a healthy fear of Madame Nu should she find out he’d said that. He’d rather not be on the archivist’s bad side. 
“Few have matched the archives' size and wealth of knowledge, though there is a vast library on Alderaan solely composed of original documents.” Obi-Wan looks at him curiously, urging him to continue, “It is more difficult for knowledge to be shared from that library due to the fact that the documents have not been recorded digitally, but it is still a vast library and a sight to behold.” He had visited it twice with Cyslin and the smell of old books paired with the elegant covers had very much seemed Alderaani. “Well, here we are. The archives. Let’s look for Mater Dolan, shall we?” Mace squeezed the hand softly, shooting Obi-Wan a smile. 
Obi-Wan grinned back and followed him, turning the corner. Almost immediately a large wookie was in front of him, and then he was kneeling down and reaching for Obi-Wan. “Thank the Force, Obi-Wan. Where in Force’s name were you? I’ve been worried sick! You and your habit of wandering…” Large hands flutter around, turning Obi-Wan from one side to the other before finally deeming him alright. The reddish-brown fur which had been standing on end in an agitated fashion smoothed down. Master Dolan’s eyes shifted from intently studying Obi-Wan’s face to looking at Mace. “Thank you so much for bringing him here. I was about to call the Temple guards.” The wookie says, head bowing in thanks. 
Mace smiles, “Oh it was no problem. Obi-Wan was a good walking companion.” He shot the boy a smile who still managed to smile back, large hands still resting on his shoulders. Master Dolan begins muttering under breath about how he was ageing prematurely and how ‘all these grey hairs are a result of your habit of wandering, young man.’ Finally, it seemed the wookie truly calmed and stood, towering over Mace though there was a gentleness in his eyes that made it feel calming and comforting. Obi-Wan stood by Master Dolan’s side, head leaning against the Master’s leg with a tired smile. 
“I’m Master Dolan,” he introduced himself, taking in a deep fortifying breath. “I can’t thank you enough, Knight…”
“Ah, Mace. Mace Windu.” Mace bowed a bit in greeting, “And truly, you don’t need to. Obi-Wan is a kind soul, I enjoyed our short walk back.”
“Nevertheless, I thank you.” 
“Ah, well, alright then. But I assure you, it was not an inconvenience at all.” Mace assured. 
The frazzled creche master calmed fully, looking down at the young child and giving him a little poke for attention. “Come now, what do you tell Knight Windu, hmm?” 
Obi-Wan blinked adorably before bowing respectfully, “thank you, Knight Windu, for bringing me back to Master Dolan.” His voice was somewhat soft, but strong still. 
“Well, thank you, Obi-Wan, for your company. I enjoyed our conversation very much.” The young boy perked up before turning to hide a bit behind the wookie Master’s leg, face bright red in embarrassment. Obi-Wan appeared to try and speak, but only a small squeak came out before he retreated further back behind the cover of the legs. 
After a while, though, the young boy found the courage to speak and peeked out, “I like talking with you, too,” he says seriously before retreating even further until he is practically hidden by the Master’s leg. 
“Well, I best be going. Master Dolan, Obi-Wan.” He bows in farewell, receiving one in response from the two. “May the Force be with you.”
Master Dolan smiles and replies in the same manner, “And with you.”
“Always. Obi-Wan adds, peeking out and waving his arm goodbye. “Bye, Knight Windu!”
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