#bartfiction

[bartkartoffeln]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I wrote a tiny something for the Critical Role Shadogast fandom. It’s subtle and short, and harmless. 

[bartkartoffeln]

Zelgan BB 2017: Story Posting

Greetings!

As the ZelganBB tumblr has been silent for weeks for unkown reason, I will not wait for them to return. As per schedule, today the posting of art and stories should start. I will upload my story tomorrow on AO3 and FFnet. I will post the summary here, together with the links to the mentioned platforms.

I don’t know if there is an artist for my story. I will post it anyway. I wrote it for myself. I even finished (almost) in time.

So stay tuned. :)

[bartkartoffeln]

Holes of Green

This is for @ludicrousnerdlamb. I know, you requested this quite some time ago, but I hope it’s not too late for this. This is not beta-read. Any suggestions for improvments are gladly heard.

After this prompt.

Holes of Green

The rain battered against the windows, painting dark patterns on them. Grey skies loomed over the house, the garden, the world. Today, the water from above brought no calm, relaxed mood. It filled him only with more loneliness and despair. There was barely somewhere he could go to drown the void of his patchwork soul. Most of the time, he just felt drained, except for holes of anxiety and pain and insecurity, only seldom lit by sparks of happiness and love.

Retreating from the window, he crawled onto the mattress of his bed. A big bed, but the other half of it was empty. No one there to snuggle with. Still, here was the most comfortable place in his room. Here he could hide under a blanket and pretend to be whole, if only in his dreams.

Lightning flashed outside, casting eerie shadows in his room. The cracking thunder followed. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the storm, letting them fill him out until the voices in his head were drowned. The water dripped into his soul, found the hollow places. Drip, drip, drip.

All too aware of his incompleteness, he shifted his body to the side and curled. The water followed, sloshing in the holes of his self. He curled more, gripping the blanket hard, wrapping it like a cocoon around his form. Slowly, the water soaked him from the inside.

When the rain stopped finally, he felt sodden, the blanket like a prison and his body heavy. Moaning, he tried to kick free from these burdens, panting heavily. Opening his eyes, he saw the warm sunlight above him, falling through a vivid, bright green roof of leaves.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly stretched a hand into the air to catch an exceptionally pretty sunray, which teased the dancing water dust swirling about. When his fingers touched the light, it flowed right into him, making his skin glow. Such a warm feeling, and a little tickling.

It spread over his arm to his head and down the back and stomach, until it reached his feet. And in his holes, something stirred. Tiny tendrils of green conquered the dark cavities of his soul, wiggling, stroking, caressing. Delicate vines with leaves in all the shades of green and purple occupied his dark holes.

Velvety soft moss sprawled lazily inside him, growing more and more to make itself at home. Ferns and flowers, bushes and herbs took up residence, filling one hole after another, until none was left.

They vanished, those dark spaces, and for once he felt whole. So very whole and healthy, strong and at peace. Lovingly, he stroked moss and vine and fern, enjoying the different textures between his fingers. With a deep, relaxed sigh, he closed his eyes again.