#'Put it in a metal bucket outside with some sand' AND THEN WHAT?

[bumblebeebats]

How come almost every rechargeable device in the world has a lithium battery which will one day, at the end of its life, swell up into a ticking time-bomb full of fire and toxic gas, and yet whenever this happens and I phone up my local council waste management department/recycling center/fire safety advice hotline like "Hi, i have a bomb, who do i give it to" they're all like

[jellybeansmud]

so i got angry trying to catch an octopus. and now its 4:30 am and i finished a little something about how horrible it must be to be the farmer when your player is crazy stupid and trying to achieve everything immediately like they're a fucking speedrunner or something (<- thats me. i am like that)

putting it under readmore. unedited since im only getting two hours of sleep today even without editing

Solo Stress | Farmer & Elliott

| they/them for the farmer | 1693 words

It is a beautiful morning in the Pelican Town, and the local farmer is yelling at the sea like it just insulted their mother. It is barely seven.

You get used to it always being a bit noisy, living right by the sea, but swearing that was so loud it almost sounded like it was right inside of his cabin overpowered the usual sound of waves and seagulls quite a bit. Enough so that Elliott shot straight up from his bed before even properly waking up, running outside with his heart sinking to his stomach, fully expecting to find someone injured there, or to see fire, or a flood, or something of sorts. He rubbed his eyes, adjusting to bright rays of sun shining right into his face, and looked around the beach.

The area was peaceful enough. Definitely no natural disasters happening. All Elliott could find that was out of the ordinary were a kicked over bucket, a few sardines flopping helplessly on the sand next to it, and the town's newest resident, who stood by the edge of the water, screaming and gesturing around at such speed that the fishing rod in one of their hands hit the water from time to time, sending splashes half their height up in the air. After a minute of consideration, he called out to them before walking closer.

Olli whipped around faster than Elliott has ever seen a person turn in his life, fishing rod drawing a half-circle deep in the sand. Their, honestly, quite terrifying scowl dropped when they saw him, to his relief. The second that they looked at him like that was enough for him to reconsider whether it was a good idea to ask them what happened. He did so anyways.

"Fucking octop- octip- octopi, is what happened!" they hissed, throwing their hand up. Purple metal of their fishing rod shined brightly, catching a ray of sun, before it fell to the ground a good distance away from the shore. The farmer seemed to not even notice they threw it, caught up in their anger. "Motherfuckers get my fucking bait, almost break my arm thrashing on the hook worse than the god damned Legend, and then they rip my line like it's nothing! I've hooked two dozen of them just this summer, and you know how many I pulled out in the end? Fucking none!" The bucket almost joined the rod in the sand, but ended up falling several meters closer to the treeline. Elliott didn't know people could kick something this hard before. "Fucking none! They are just some fucking fish! What the hell am I supposed to do to catch at least one alredy?!"

He was, frankly, stumped here. This must've been the first time anyone in the town has seen Olli this angry, and it was over some bad luck with fishing. Elliott wished someone else was dealing with this right now. Unfortunately, Willy just left for a fishing trip on his newly repaired boat. Oh well.

"I... suppose, uh, out of everyone in town, Willy would be the only one who could give you any advice on that... Would you like to have some tea, perhaps? I would invite you to saloon, if it weren't this early in the morning," he tried. If he couldn't offer any advice, then distracting Olli probably was his best chance to prevent them from doing sonething stupid. Like smashing their fishing rod in half. Or fighting an octopus with a sword. He wouldn't be surprised if they tried that.

The farmer dragged a palm across their face to calm down, taking a deep breath, and just nodded in response. Their shoulders sagged as they followed Elliott to his cabin.

The Moonlight Farm was one of the best ones you could find in the country. Even if it couldn't compete in output with huge corporate farms, it definitely won all awards when it came to the quality of produce. It was almost unbelievable that the smell of starfruit that filled the room came from the dried cubes in the tea Elliott served to his guest and not a fresh fruit, so sweet and intense it was. The writer often wondered how Olli managed to achieve so much in two short years since their arrival to the abandoned, barren farm. Right now wasn't the best time to ask, though.

Olli was cutting a pomegranate with a pocket knife when he turned from his kitchen cabinets to the little table with a pair of cups in his hands. He grabbed a bowl for the seeds after setting down the cups.

"Brought this for you," the farmer said, smiling shallowly without looking away from the fruit when they heard the clink of the bowl placed in front of them.

"You are such a kind friend." Elliott sat on the other side of the table and smiled back. "You were planning to visit me?"

"Just wanted to bring a gift. There are a few more, too."

They pulled a bundle of cloth with several pomegranates inside from their bag that sat on the floor by their stool and placed it on the table. Each fruit looked pristine and absolutely perfect, like no fruit Elliott has ever seen anywhere but Pelican Town. He thanked Olli again, and they offered him the same faint smile.

"You seem really upset still. Are you trying to catch an octopus for something important, or is there something else bothering you?"

They didn't reply for a minute, popping the seeds out of the pomegranate in their hands into the bowl. They looked somewhere past it, however, eyes lost and unblinking.

"Uh... Just... Slept bad tonight and overreacted because of that, I guess... It's fine, don't worry, it's alright, it's- It's alright."

It really did not seem alright. Olli just pretended to focus on cleaning the fruit.

Elliott studied them while they seemed to not even notice his eyes on them. He didn't get a chance to look at them up close often, really. They were always around, and chatted with him (and everyone else in town) every day, but most of the time, they were in one place only for a few minutes before running off. The longest they stayed somewhere besides the farm was when they went fishing. Or to the mines, from what he's heard from Robin, who sometimes saw then enter them early in the morning and leave past sunset.

"Are you getting enough rest, usually?" he asked, realizing now that he has never seen them without these dark circles under their eyes.

"Yea, it was just... Um... Baahrbara had a lamb late into the night, I had to stay with her, you know, to see if they're alright. Just a..." Olli took a deep breath, poorly trying to hide either a sigh or a yawn. "Just one of those things."

It seemed like that one time he saw them arrive to the tide pools well past midnight when he got carried away writing was, perhaps, not just an one-time thing.

"And you were here today since?.."

Their face fell. Weak smile they held gave place to a sad, tired expression, and they slumped into themselves.

"...You know, don't you?" they asked quietly, not looking at him.

Elliott reached across the table to place his hand on their shoulder.

"You do a lot of hard work every day. You know you should take better care of yourself, right? Nobody would want to see you hurt yourself by accident because you were tired."

Olli stayed silent, bringing their legs up to hug them. Their long hair obscured their eyes, but Elliott was almost certain he saw tears behind their bangs.

"It's okay, Olli. You've helped the town so much, and you're still doing a lot of great things for us all. Do something for yourself, too, okay? You don't have to wear yourself out this much."

"People need the farm, y'know?" Their voice was definitely watery now. First time anyone in the town has seen them cry, too, probably. Elliott got up to hug them around the shourders. "I- We don't have the JojaMart anymore, I have to work harder so I can give enough to town, I can't just not do this! And there are public plans that need finances, so I need to sell enough to cover that, too, and- and- Yoba, I j- I just can't, Elliott, I have to work this hard! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He didn't say anything, patting their back while they cried into their knees. It only lasted for a brief minute, and then they forced their tears to stop, curling up tighter and hiding their face more.

Elliott fixed their hair, trying to look them into the eyes, and Olli glanced up for a moment. He smiled warmly at them.

"I'm sure Marnie wouldn't mind helping you with animals, right? And Shane need something to do, since he doesn't have a job right now. I can ask Leah to help with the plants, and most people would be happy to help with the harvests, if they have free time. This can even be a new little festival, don't you think?"

"They already have enough to do without this, it's my farm, I-"

"Clearly you can't do all that you want to do alone, Olli. It wouldn't hurt to ask. Think about it for a while, at least, okay?"

"...Okay. Okay. I- Thank you. I'm... I'm gonna ask Shane. That's... I think he will like my chickens. Okay."

"And take at least today off, please."

They looked up at him, eyes wet and pained, and he cut them off before they could say a word.

"For me?"

"...If it's for you."

"Thank you. I'll help you bring your things to the farm. Go to bed when we get there, you can always talk to people later."

Olli slipped off the stool right into hugging him.

Elliott collected their discarded bucket and fishing rod as they both headed out to the other side of the town. He hoped they will follow his advice. He really wanted to see them happy.

[el-oh-her]

Dear Texas, some advice from Wisconsin

I lived in a shitty trailer for most of my life in Wisconsin, so I know some of the issues you’re going through. I’m also a skinny bitch who cannot retain heat for very long. Here is some advice to help you out a little bit. It’s not a lot, but if it saves a life it saves a life. 

Please, please spread this around for the texans. We’re all in this together. 

Get some rolled up blankets and pillows and put them in front of ALL  the cracks of windows and doors. Windows and doors--especially yours- are not weather tight. This can help slow the heat escaping 

If you don’t have pillows or blankets to spare, but you’ve got some pants (jeans are good) or sweaters or literally any clothes you’re willing to sacrafice,  then cut the jeans and stuff the jean with the excess fabric, and tie the ends off. with strips of fabric or tape or whatever you have. 

If you have rooms that don’t touch outer walls, that is the room you should focus on. Everyone in the house should be in that room as much as possible. 

It might be weird, and COVID makes this a risk but if you gotta do it you gotta do it. Sleep in the same room--have the kids share a bed if there are some kids. Your body heat will get captured under blankets and if it’s too cold this is something you can do to naturally produce some heat. Again, it’s a risk because of COVID but do what you got to do to live. 

Buy heavy curtains if you can afford them, use blankets or large sweaters or whatever you have if you can’t, and hang them in front of windows and the doors. It’ll help keep the heat in. 

The fridge should be opened only when asbolutely necessary. Yell at your kids and your roomates. They’ll get mad at you now, but it’s a small thing that can help. 

Buy some water jugs (we used milk jugs because we had a lot of them) and when your water turns on, fill as many as you can. When your water shuts off, that’s the water you can use to flush the toiilet. My family had to do this all the time. 1 gallon of water is 2 bathroom flushes. Keep these milk jugs in your warmest rooms. 

Hot air rises, cold air sinks. Get the beds off the floor. I don’t care if your bed stand is made of layers of books. The further you’re from the floor, the better you’ll be--even if it’s a little bit. Sleep in the bunk beds if you have them. 

Your carbon dioxide that you exhale can be a natural heater. Sleep with your head under the blanket, or hang out completley under a blanket and after a while it will warm up. Probably don’t do this when you’re sharing the blanket because of COVID, but do what you gotta do to stay warm. 

LAYERS. Wear them. Under shirt under your regular shirt which is covered by a jacket or a sweater. Wear Leggings underneath your pants. Boys, either invest in some women’s leggings or use your pajama pants. Fuck, wear a skirt on top of it if you’re too cold. Fuck your gender roles, this is about being warm not being pretty. 

SOCKS. GLOVES. Wear them, even if you’re in the house. It costs a lot of heat to keep them warm, so if you’re cold and you can’t get warm, get some socks and some gloves on and it will help. I promise. 

Fuzzy / thick socks are popular up here, double your socks to get this same effect. 

When you’re outside, walk like you’re trying to get away from a murder scene. Walk like you have a test in 5 minutes and you might just miss it. You will warm up within 5 minutes of walking, and you’ll produce some sweat. It’s uncomfy for sure, but it’ll produce some heat. I have taken off my coat in terribly cold weather because I walked way too fast and got way too hot. Again, a little thing. 

Candles. Get them. Check your goodwills or thrift shops if the retailres are out of it. They don’t produce a lot of heat, but they do produce something. 

How to get the ice off your car. Turn your car ON and let your car heat up. I can only assume your car has a defroster setting but if it doesn’t, the engine at least should produce some heat, which is by the windshield so it will help just a little bit. 

WORST case scenario if you don’t have a scrapper is salt. Salt will help break down the ice. 

If you’re gonna try and DIY a scaprer use PLASTIC materials not METAL materials. Metal will fuck up your wind shield, I am pretty sure. Order a scraper from Amazon. 

BUY a SHOVEL. If you can’t get a snow shovel because of the demand of them, buy a BUCKET. Get something that can hold snow to move it.  

If there is no road salt or table salt to use to get rid of ice, use SAND. Sand is used around here when there’s no salt. It’s not as great and your cars will look gross, but get a car wash when the snow melts. 

YOUR CAR KIT: When you’re stranded in your car in the snow you should have all of the following: A shovel, a snow scraper, a warm set of clothes, an extra coat, a couple of blankets, a pillow (optional) and a first aid kid if you’ve got it. 

The cold drains your battery in your car faster. If you can afford it, take your car out for drives even if you’re not going anywhere. Take the whole fucking family in the drive, it’s a small enclosed space and you all can warm up for a little bit. 

WHERE you place your heaters to warm up your pipes is just as important as just putting heaters on your pipes. To make sure they don’t burst, make sure those heaters are in places where it is producing heat around as many pipes as possibe. My family also put a heater underneath the sink in the kitchen. 

Drip your sinks. Moving water is much harder to freeze becuse of the laws of motion and science and shit. letting your facusts drip will help prolong the life of your pipes before they burst. 

If your pipes burst stay calm. DON”T FUCKING FILM IT. Call to get your water shut off. I don’t know what to do with burst pipes, someone else probably knows. You need to get it shut off as soon as possible because if that water freezes, it’s going to produce more cold and it’s going to damage your house. 

Food. Everyone is probably raiding the snack asiles because they’re foods that don’t need food or heat in order to make. I get it. Instead I suggest making large meals when you have power and stick it in the fridge, but stuff that won’t be too gross eaten cold. Spagetti, pizza, potatoe salad, etc. Salads if there’s salad stuff around. Granola and yoghurt make parfaits and are a good thing to fill your stomach. 

There is probably more but I can’t think of any right now. A lot of this are all little things but everything adds up eventually. Minus the power outages, what you’re going through was my winter every year for almost 10 years--so I have nothing but sympathy for you. My pipes have frozen and burst and all the worst things.

Please, even if you’re not from Texas, even if you ain’t in america, pass thing along. Get the word out. We’re in this together. 

[absolutepokemontrash]

Beach Day!

Masterlist~

As requested by an anon, The Half Demon kids get to have their beach day! Please enjoy!

‘‘Twas a summer’s day in the Devildom, and school was out for the next couple of months, what else was there to do other than have a fun little beach vacation?

“Do we have towels?”

“Check.”

“Umbrellas?”

“Yep.”

“Beach toys?”

“Uh huh.”

L!MC and Lucifer were running through the long list of items as the rest of the family loaded everything into their (several) cars. Mammon grunted and shoved one of three umbrellas into a gap in the piles of luggage, they were all packing the rapidly filling car like they were playing a game of Tetris from hell.

“Ya know, you two can try and, I dunno, help a little?!”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and looked up from his list. “I am helping, Mammon. I’m making sure this doesn’t end up like the last family vacation we took.”

“What happened last time?” The soft voice of A!MC piped up, they were carrying roughly four different carryon bags into one of the cars.

“Mammon forgot to pack sunscreen during our last little visit to a human world beach and we all got horrifically sunburned. That’s why this year we’ll be visiting a proper Devildom beach.” Lucifer explained.

“That stupid mistake nearly cost me my perfect skin.” Asmo grumbled, A!MC patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t feel too bad, dad. You look great!”

“Oh little butterfly,” Asmo patted A!MC on their head, much to the kid’s delight. “Go on~.”

“Hey pop!” Mammon’s head whirled around as he looked for the source of the voice. “THINK FAST!”

A duffel bag slammed into the side of Mammon’s head, knocking him into the side of the car.

“What the hell M!MC?!”

The little culprit gave their dad a fanged megawatt smile and shrugged. “I said think fast.”

“M!MC, he can’t think fast, he doesn’t have a brain.” Asmo smirked over at Mammon, who not so graciously flipped him off. A blast of water from wiped both the smirk and some of the makeup off Asmo’s face.

“Whoops,” M!MC lowered their water gun. “Misfire.”

Lucifer massaged his temples as he watched this complete and utter chaos unfold. This was ridiculous, he turned to L!MC. “I refuse to subject you to this, I don’t was CPS to come knocking. You are riding with Lord Diavolo and I.”

“Wooop!” L!MC cheered, then paused. “Was I not riding with you two before now?”

——————

After arriving and unpacking, everyone set out to the beach, per Lucifer’s totally reasonable beach rules, no cameras within eight feet of the beach. Asmo had to compromise and take his Devilgram selfies at Diavolo’s villa in the five minute window of time before everyone set out for the beach.

While the group made their way to the beach, M!MC proudly presented their shiny new metal detector to the crowd of not too impressed family members. Well, everyone but Mammon, he was hyped as all hell to try and find buried treasure.

As M!MC and A!MC lagged behind and chattered aimlessly, something flew right into M!MC’s face. Reeling at the sudden loss of their sight, M!MC’s hands flew to their face and peeled the thing off of them. A…piece of paper..?

No, not a piece of paper, it was a map! Well, half of a map!

“Woah… Pop! Check it!” M!MC waved the piece of paper in the air. “What if we use this to find treasure or something?”

Mammon’s eyes practically sparkled as he swiped the map from M!MC. “Kid, we’re gonna be rich. Not the lame kinda rich either, we’ll be… multiple yacht rich!”

“Oh geez…” A!MC murmured.

By the time the entire group had gotten to the actual beach, Mammon and M!MC had already had the layout of their fabulous Hollywood mansion planned out and were busily describing the kinds of cars they wanted to own. Armed with only half a treasure map and a metal detector, the two set off down the beach.

L!MC, Belphie, and Satan snickered like a bunch of kids as they set up their new pink unicorn floaty. It was just perfect for just slightly ticking off Lucifer. A!MC hummed happily as they unpacked all their sand toys, perfect for making a sand-empire! The rest of the adults set up the umbrellas and beach chairs and practically deflated when all the work was finished.

Hang on- where was Levi- OH! There he was. He had ran right into the water and was petting Lotan. Man… Lotan was fucking massive.

“Hey, Luke,” L!MC called out. “Why are you wearing water wings? You know those things don’t work, right?”

“H-huh?” Luke tilted his head in confusion. Like a chihuahua- “What do you mean?”

“Well, water wings aren’t like life jackets, water wings only keep your arms out of water. If you start to drown, those aren’t helping.” L!MC dutifully explained. “There are documented cases in the human world of kids drowning with their arms still afloat because of the water wings.”

Luke was having such a good day forty five seconds prior, now he was petrified.

——————

“Ah, this is the life, right Sea Monster Levi?” L!MC leisurely floated around on their giant pink unicorn floatie as Levi swam around them.

Levi couldn’t exactly speak, but the terrifying eldritch shriek of delight was enough of an answer.

“See, you should go outside more often, the ocean is outside, fresh air is outside,” L!MC continued to list lovely things that just happened to be outside until Lotan poked four of his heads above water. “Lotan’s outside,”

Levi grumbled and slammed his tail into the water, sending a massive wave over to L!MC.

“Fuck.”

Those were L!MC’s last words before the wave crashed into them and tipped over the floatie, leaving them angrily starfish floating in the water. “You fucking hikikomori.”

—————

A!MC carefully placed their bucket full of sand onto the ground upside down and slowly pulled the bucket away. Perfect! That made a great castle tower! The sand-city that A!MC had concocted could put any city to shame, there was a town hall, a bank, a museum, and multiple construction projects headed by Luke. Well, the chihuahua wasn’t doing too well with his castle-building.

“Aww…” Luke pouted as his castle crumbled. “I ruined it…”

“You should add a bit of water to the sand, Luke.” A!MC said as they carefully placed some seashell decorations around their castle tower. “It’ll help stop your towers from crumbling.”

Luke vehemently shook his head. “There’s no way I’m going near that water. Not after what L!MC said…”

“Luke, L!MC’s just being a butt, you won’t drown-” A!MC was unceremoniously cut off by Lotan rising from the depths of the ocean and L!MC’s squawk of protest when he began to bat their unicorn floatie around.

“Y-yeah… I won’t drown, I’ll be eaten by a sea monster…” Luke shuddered.

“A!MC, I’m living here.” Belphie laid his towel out a little ways away from the sand-city and collapsed into a snoring heap on the sand.

“Great! A new citizen!” A!MC smiled and clapped their hands. “Beel, are you going to join us?”

Beel took a large bite out of a watermelon and sat down next to Belphie. “Yeah, I’m going to live here too.”

“We’ve got a real kingdom now!”

—————

The metal detector beeped for the thousandth time that day and M!MC and Mammon were beginning to get tired. They had found a total of 45 cents and a bottle cap, not the heaps of pirate treasure their map promised.

“Alright old man, dig.” M!MC lazily motioned towards the spot in the sand where the metal detector beeped.

“Why do I gotta dig?” Mammon whined. “You do it this time!”

“I’m holding the metal detector!” M!MC snapped. “Lookit! This shit’s heavy!”

“UUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH.” Mammon dropped to his knees and began to dig, unearthing a second bottle cap.

“Have our intrepid treasure hunters struck gold yet?” The taunting voice of Satan wormed its way into M!MC and Mammon’s ears as they both rolled their eyes.

“Why do you care, Satan?” M!MC sneered. “Shouldn’t you be off waxing philosophical about the demon condition or some other pretentious shit right now?”

Satan scoffed and shook his head. “So you haven’t found anything, shocker.”

“Ya didn’t answer the question, Satan.”

“Fine, you two dumbasses forgot to bring water after you immediately ran to go find your treasure.” Satan chucked two metal water bottles at Mammon, both of which hit him in the face. “So where’s your little treasure map?”

M!MC grumbled and pulled the map out of their pocket. “Here.”

Satan raised an eyebrow as he looked over the map, then looked back up at Mammon and M!MC. “I’d expect this level of idiocy from Mammon, but not you, M!MC.”

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” M!MC and Mammon shouted in unison.

Satan flipped the map around so it was facing the pair, he pointed at the X. “You’re supposed to be going that way,” Satan pointed back towards where they had set up the towels and umbrellas.

“…shit.” Mammon murmured. “I swear if we just wasted two fuckin’ hours on this-”

“Don’t blame me! I’m a mathematician, not a fucking geographer!” M!MC hissed.

“Actually, cartographers are the ones that make maps-”

“SHUT UP SATAN!”

——————

“Ugh… I hate the ocean now…” L!MC trudged over to Lucifer and plopped themselves down next to him. “0/10. Next year, can we go somewhere with significantly less seaweed?”

Lucifer wordlessly pulled a clump of sea-gunk out of L!MC’s hair and dropped it on the sand next to them. The fucking gunk-thing then began to MOVE-

“…is that alive?”

“Probably.”

L!MC grabbed the thing and threw it as hard as they could into the water. “I’m not allowing that eldritch terror the privilege of evolving.”

Lucifer chuckled and shook his head. “This is karma for the unicorn floaty.”

“That wasn’t even all my idea!” L!MC hugged their knees to their chest and grumbled. “Where’s Belphie, Satan and M!MC’s karma?!”

“I’m sure it’ll come soon.”

“Now would be nice…” L!MC growled.

“If you’re going to go sit and whine for the rest of the day you can walk back to the villa by yourself.”

“Ugh!” L!MC threw up their hands and walked away. “So Belphie can angst all he wants but I can’t?! This is bullshit!”

“LANGUAGE!”

—————

A!MC’s burgeoning kingdom had grown in population in the last few hours; Barbatos and Diavolo had moved in and were gleefully helping out with the construction projects (well, Dia was gleeful, Barbatos was standing off to the side holding lemonade), Simeon had joined in and was making a moat, and L!MC was designing the flag.

“Our walls will be impenetrable!” Diavolo proclaimed as he continued to reinforce the sand-walls. “No one would dare invade us!”

“Where’s our sand-army? I call dibs on being sand-general.” L!MC raised their hand. “Luke, you can be a sand soldier.”

“Huh?”

“Here’s your sand-sword.”

“L!MC this is driftwood…”

“Hit a bitch with it.”

“There will be no hitting of any bitches.” Simeon gently took the driftwood from Luke and chucked it into the ocean.

“Lame…” L!MC rolled their eyes.

A little while into the kingdom building, A!MC surveyed their land with a proud smile. Every little building was adorably decorated with shells and pebbles, the roads were laid out perfectly, the castle was stable… Ah. Perfection!

A familiar trio sauntered over looking down at their map and occasionally back up at the surrounding beach until they stopped right outside the moat outside of A!MC’s kingdom. Satan, Mammon, and M!MC looked up at the group and pointed their shovel and metal detector at them.

“Hey kiddos, and… not kiddos. We’re gonna need ya to move over. There’s treasure in the area and we gotta dig!” Mammon proclaimed, standing up straight and putting a hand on his hip.

“Uh… no?” A!MC sat down on their beach chair, but to them, it was more like a throne. “We spent forever building this, we aren’t just going to let you destroy it.”

“Can’t you build somewhere else?” M!MC waved their hand to a place farther down the beach that was just littered with holes from M!MC and Mammon’s treasure hunting. “Couldn’t have taken that long.”

“Are you stupid or just ignorant?” L!MC hissed, protectively moving in front of the sand-wall next to Diavolo. “This took literal hours. You three can piss off.”

“L!MC, don’t be dramatic.” Satan rolled his eyes, then looked to the adults. “Come on guys, this may actually lead to something historical. Can you guys move out?”

“Uh… fuck off?” Belphie sleepily looked up from his towel. “We were here first. Finders keepers.”

“Yeah,” Beel paused his job of helping clean up the toys and buckets. “Belphie napped here, this spots been claimed.”

Barbatos and Diavolo nodded in agreement.

“A!MC has claimed this land, therefore, it’s their kingdom.” Diavolo said.

“Guys, this ain’t a joke! There’s actual treasure here!” Mammon waved the map in the air.

“That doesn’t matter. our sandcastles, our rules.” Luke crossed his arms and huffed.

“Oh bullshit! Move over! Money and treasure is under your city and we’ll take it by force if we have to!” M!MC crossed his arms and glared.

“Really now~?” L!MC cooed, slamming their fist against their open palm. “Fucking try us.”

————

A fight would have broken out if it weren’t for Lucifer calling for everyone to eat. Everyone sat down on their towels and angrily munched on their macaroni salad and sandwiches.

Team Treasure hunter (it was generous to call them a team considering there was only three of them) were forming a plan to try and get passed the much larger Team Sandcastle. M!MC and Satan bounced ideas off of each other while Mammon stole everyone’s potato chips.

“So, we need to lure at least some of them away… but how?” M!MC stuck their hand into the much reduced bowl of chips and took out a fistful.

“Mmm…” Satan murmured. “Well, there’s a thief in our midst…”

M!MC knitted their eyebrows in confusion, then began to nod in understanding. “Ah… and we have someone very quick…”

Both Satan and M!MC turned to Mammon, who was polishing off the chips and counting their metal detector money. He stopped mid chew and tilted his head.

“What are ya lookin’ at?”

Over with Team Sandcastle, L!MC carefully traced Belphie’s hand onto a piece of paper with a vindictive smirk on both their faces.

“What are you doing?” Luke asked as he bit into his kebab.

“It’s an official declaration of war.” L!MC quickly finished up the tracing and proudly showed the picture of Belphie’s middle finger to the assembled team. “I think it’s very clear and concise.”

Simeon slapped a palm to his forehead as Luke let out a gasp.

“L!MC! That’s so vulgar and awful-” Luke’s irate yapping went completely ignored.

“It’s a very nice picture.” Beel calmly observed, turning over the paper in his hands.

“Enough about the declaration!” A!MC stood up and put their hands on their hips. “We need to take action immediately! I’m not letting our sand kingdom fall into their hands!”

“We know that A!MC, but we need to at least give them some kind of warning that we’re going to beat them into the ground.” L!MC said.

“They got their warning. Now is not the time for being polite, now is the time for curb stomping.”

“Is it just me,” Belphie leaned over to Beel and cartoonishly whispered. “Or is A!MC getting really intense about this?”

—————

Team Treasure Hunter’s battle plan did not go as well as they thought it would. Satan and M!MC did not factor the fact that Mammon would be stealing something and then running in sand, and next to no one can properly run in fluffy beach sand, what this poor narrator is trying to say is that Mammon got football tackled immediately because he couldn’t run after he stole something as a distraction. Oh well… at least the sand was soft…

Team Sandcastle’s superior numbers meant superior ideas, and one of their ideas was for A!MC to politely ask some of the beach dwelling creepy crawlies to attack the other team. Well uh… toes were pinched that day…

“Fools,” A!MC sat straighter in their beach chair. “All of them.”

“I’m loving the supervillain vibes, A!MC, but-”

“But nothing!” A!MC cut L!MC off with a huff. “I’m not a supervillain either!”

“Sounds like something a supervillain would say.” Belphie snickered, only to be blasted in the face with a water gun. A!MC was turning on their own people…

“Alright, everyone who dares to doubt me gets the water gun.” A!MC sneered. “My kingdom won’t fall!”

The kingdom fell.

One giant wave caused by Lotan and Levi playing in the water nearby crashed onto the beach and absolutely flattened the detailed sand kingdom. A!MC slowly moved their hair out of their eyes and turned to Lotan and Levi in the water.

“You… you…” A!MC growled, a tick forming in their right eye. “YOU SHUT-IN PIECE OF [Hello, this is the narrator, I’m very sorry but I cannot repeat what little A!MC said here. I hope you all can find it in your hearts to forgive them for this outburst, their kingdom just got destroyed after all.]”

Simeon vaulted forward and covered Luke’s ears while the rest of the group on the beach stared in wide eyed shock as their sweet little A!MC cussed out two giant sea monsters. This was… not what they expected from their beach trip…

Beel quickly recovered from his shock and scooped A!MC up into his arms. A!MC didn’t seem to care all that much as they continued to kick and scream profanity at the giant sea monsters. Beel lumbered over to Asmo and handed the screeching A!MC to him.

“This is yours.”

“…Beel dear,” Asmo looked at the practically feral child that had managed to shift into their demon form, then looked to Beel. “Are you sure?”

——————

Ever the opportunists, Team Treasure Hunter managed to dig in the area where the sand kingdom once stood. After roughly an hour of digging, Mammon struck something… wooden. Hmm…

“Hey I uh… think I found somethin’!”

“Really?” M!MC exclaimed. “Lemme see! Let’s get it out!”

“Allow me,” Diavolo motioned for everyone to move away and leaned in. He yanked a massive treasure chest out of the sand like it was nothing and plopped it onto the beach. “Oh! It is a treasure chest! How novel!”

Mammon jumped forward and yanked the chest open, inside was an absolute mess of glimmering gold and jewelry.

“DON’T TOUCH THAT.” Lucifer’s booming voice stopped Mammon dead in place. Everyone’s heads swivelled to look at him. “It’s probably cursed gold, you idiots.”

“As much as I hate to agree with Lucifer, we should at least check before we touch anything.” Satan crossed his arms and grumbled.

The gold was hella cursed and basically useless. No one went back to the villa happy.

———————

A!MC sulkily kicked off their shoes and flopped backwards onto their bed. They stared half-vacantly up at the ceiling, they were so tired despite the fact that they hadn’t even gone swimming… they had spent their entire day building that stupid sandcastle kingdom…

M!MC flopped down next to them and let out an explosive sigh. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry about your sandcastle stuff…”

A!MC sighed and shrugged. “Yeah… sorry about your treasure…”

“Yeah… so far this trip blows.”

L!MC flopped down next to A!MC and practically deflated.

“What’s wrong with you?” M!MC asked, rolling over onto their side to look at their cousin.

“I’m in mourning…” L!MC grumbled, holding up a piece of pink stretchy plastic. “Lotan ate my unicorn floaty.”

“Aww… I’m sorry L!MC.” A!MC patted them on the shoulder. “Let’s go fight Lotan and Levi for revenge.”

“A!MC. I’m grieving, not suicidal.” L!MC said seriously, then their face melted into a grin as they began to giggle. “Dummy…”

“I’m not a dummy! I think we might have a chance!”

“Yeah, a chance of gettin’ eaten!” M!MC snickered.

“Okay… maybe…” A!MC giggled.

“Hey guys,” Simeon knocked on the door and poked his head in. “We’re making a fire for s’mores, you all better hurry up before Beel gets to everything.”

The three kids stuck their thumbs up and got ready to go. S’mores fix everything!

————

Author’s note: Okay, back in like… May, I promised I’d write a beach day episode for these characters, and it’s finally done!!

The whole sandcastle war is something that actually happened when I went to a summer camp ^.^

It was less about digging for treasure and more about who had the best sandcastles, and I shit you not, a wave slammed into the rival team’s sandcastle. It was funny as S H I T. HA! TAKE THAT RIVAL TEAM! MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE MADE YOUR CITY SO CLOSE TO THE WATER!

[honey-dewey]

The Cowboy Conundrum

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/GN! Reader

Word Count: 3,128

Warnings: Jack gets heatstroke and suffers the symptoms (passing out, vomiting, etc.), but other than that it’s mostly just hurt/comfort

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell​

The prompt for this week’s Writer Wednesday was given, as always, by the lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog​, and the masterlists are created by  @clydesducktape. 

Out in the middle of the desert, the days were long and hot, usually unforgiving and always unbearable. The sand was gritty, the sun was cruel, and the lack of humidity was somehow a curse and not its usual blessing. 

Why the hell you were in a desert right now was beyond you, but apparently your work had decided to send you to the middle of God’s country, Arizona for something important, so something important you were doing. Well, you were waiting for your instructions in a cabin on the outskirts of some ghost town, but that felt close enough. You’d been here for almost three months, and at this point, you were entirely used to the boringness and the labor of day-to-day life in the desert. 

Thankfully, it seemed the gods were merciful today. Instead of heading into town for a drink or counting tumbleweeds as you always did to stave off the boredom, a horse approached you as you exited your cabin to grab water from the well. It wasn’t a particularly interesting horse, just a regular old bay horse with one small white sock, but what intrigued you was the horse’s rider, or obvious lack thereof. Fully tacked in western gear, the horse had no rider that you could see. No one on the horizon, no shouts above the dry wind, not even a whisper of whoever had sent this horse running to you. 

“Are you alone?” you asked, rubbing up and down the horse’s muzzle. “Are you all alone out here pretty boy? Hm?” 

The horse whickered, shoving against you and flicking his tail. You nodded, looking out over the sienna landscape. “Is there something out there?” 

Another soft whicker, and this time, you could’ve sworn you saw something, a glimmering mirage against the heat. A man, shambling upright, limping with every step. With one blink, he was gone, but the image remained burned in your head. You blinked a few more times, trying to dispel the mirage, but you couldn’t. 

“Oh what the hell,” you groaned, picking up your hat and placing it securely on your head. “What could go wrong?” Already in riding clothes, you wasted no time swinging up into the horse’s saddle and gripping the reins tightly in one hand. “Take me wherever.” 

Immediately, the horse was off, you along with him. Riding was as natural as breathing for you, and you actually felt nice with the wind threatening to upend your hat with every step the horse made. 

It took almost ten minutes to find anything, but the horse seemed to know where he was meant to go and took you there without hesitation. When you finally came upon the crumpled body of a man, you swung off the horse’s back before he slowed to a stop, running alongside him and falling before the man. He was unconscious, his skin as hot as the ground beneath him and as dry as the air you were breathing. You shoved two of your fingers to the side of this neck, just below his jaw, and found a pulse, wild and erratic, racing under the man’s skin. 

“Looks like heatstroke,” you said to the horse, flicking the brim of the man’s hat up and seeing his sun-flushed face. “Yep. C’mon, think you can carry us both?” 

The horse was surprisingly willing to carry you and the mystery man. He knelt down so you could position the man at the front of the saddle, and stood still when you swung yourself up as well. Because of the extra weight, what should’ve been a ten minute trip home was closer to twenty, but before you knew it, you were dragging the man inside your cabin, leaving the horse cool and comfortable in the attached stall beside the house. 

You groaned, hauling the man onto your only bed. You could take the couch until he recovered, you truly didn’t mind. Turning the ceiling fan on, you listened to it creak as you stripped the man of his clothes, piling everything to be washed in a basket by the door. When he was left in only his underwear, you began to relax. You’d need well water, which was typically cool, but for now, you grabbed an ice tray from your ancient freezer, popping out an ice cube and handling it carefully. The last thing you wanted was to drop the man’s temperature too fast, but you had to cool him down. 

In the end, you ran the ice cube across his skin, focusing on the sensitive areas the most, his face, neck, and armpits. He gave no response to the shock of cold, and you couldn’t help but fear the worst. How long had he been out there? You knew heatstroke victims could lapse into comas, and you were technically supposed to call emergency services immediately, but who the hell were you going to call out here? All you could do was treat him as best you could and pray to whatever God resided over your personal slice of hell that the mystery man didn’t die in your bed. 

You sighed, watching the last sliver of ice melt away. The man’s face looked a bit less flushed, and you ducked into your bathroom, coming out holding two thermometers. One was an oral thermometer, the one you were probably going to use, and the other was a rectal thermometer, the one you really should use. The second one was going to give you a more accurate reading, but holy shit. You hadn’t even technically met the guy yet, and you didn’t exactly think sticking a thermometer up his ass was the way to kick off your introduction. 

Giving in, you put the first thermometer in the man’s mouth, watching and waiting for the beep. When it dinged, you pulled it out from between his teeth and sighed. 104.2 degrees fahrenheit. Shit. Still in the danger zone. 

There was no getting around it now. You needed water, and fast. Your shower could only get to lukewarm before it stopped cooling, so you resigned yourself to hauling a bucket to and from the well. The horse looked at you as you sloshed water into the house, hurrying to get back to the man’s bedside before anything bad happened. Thankfully, he seemed to be better when you returned, dropping the remaining cubes from the ice tray into the water, cooling it down for a minute, and then grabbing a threadbare washcloth from the bathroom. The rag seemed to help more than the single ice cube, and you felt comfortable enough after wiping him down for a while to get up and leave him, the water-soaked towel still across his forehead, of course. 

While the man rested inside, you headed outside to tend to the horse, putting his tack away in the miniscule shed beside the house and getting him cozy with some water and hay. He seemed grateful, munching on the hay while you began to fill your laundry trough. It was sat on the porch, the metal tub and laundry line the only way you had found to wash clothes out here. Two buckets of well water did the trick, and then you were grabbing your washboard, soap, and laundry, ready to scrub. 

You were halfway through washing the man’s jeans when you heard a thud inside the house. Abandoning your laundry, you rushed back inside, seeing the man, awake, bent over on the floor, clutching his head and groaning like a wounded animal. You knelt beside him, helping him sit back on his haunches and then slump against the wall, skin flushed and warm against your damp hands. 

“You have heatstroke,” you explained clearly and slowly, grabbing a new wet washcloth and wiping the man’s skin down, taking care around his brown eyes. “You were unconscious in the desert. Your horse found me, and I brought you back to my cabin.” 

The man nodded loosely, his movements uncoordinated. You tracked his eyes, watching how they flickered around your face, never seeming to focus on one thing. “Are you nauseous?” you asked, grabbing an ice cube out of your second tray. You handed it to the man, gesturing for him to put it in his mouth. He did so, nodding as he went. 

“Dizzy?” Another nod, and you were standing to wring the warm washcloth out and re-cool it. 

“Headache?” The nodding increased in strength, and you winced, setting the cold towel against the man’s head, soaking his brown curls. “Pulsing?” You hated the confirmation, and you sighed. “Yep, heatstroke. Just gonna have to keep cooling you off, I guess.” 

You were hesitant to leave the man, but the laundry still had to be done. Eventually, you gave him an old paper-thin bathrobe and let him sit on the porch swing, sucking on ice cubes and watching you scrub his undershirt against the washboard. He never once complained, but he didn’t say anything else either, and you had to wonder, as you hung the shirt to dry, if the man could even speak at all. 

You got your answer over dinner. You insisted he eat plain toast, and he shook his head in refusal. It was a battle you were willing to fight, because you kept pestering him until he finally snapped, “Y’ain’t my damn mother!” His voice was raspy and sick sounding, but underneath that you could hear a richness to his words.

“Even so,” you said, not ready to give up just yet. “You need to put something in your stomach. Just one piece, please.” 

The man’s eyes softened as you pushed the plate towards him. “Half,” he countered. 

You shrugged, ripping one piece of toast in half and giving him the slightly bigger piece. “That works, cowboy.” 

He ate slowly, each bite small and hesitant. He was still woozy, staying in his chair only because of the study back and arms of the chair trapping him in. But his head bobbed and his eyes flickered open and shut, and you were certain his head was still killing him. 

“A good night’s rest will do you good,” you said as you finished dinner, helping the man up and into bed. “I’ll leave the fan on, okay?��� 

The man nodded, letting you tuck the thin quilt around his body and leave him with nothing more than a whispered goodnight. 

The next morning, the man seemed to be doing better. His skin was no longer as flushed pink as it was the day before, and he told you over breakfast that his head had finally stopped pounding so hard. It still hurt, but was no longer unbearable. 

Unfortunately, he was still nauseous and lightheaded, stumbling around the cabin and throwing up what meager oatmeal you’d convinced him to eat. It was hell as you followed him to the bathroom and rubbed his back, letting him cry into your shirt for a while before realizing being on the floor couldn’t be good for him. 

“Looks like it’s another bed rest day,” you said, helping him up off the bathroom floor. He swayed in your arms, groaning as you walked him to the bedroom. “I know,” you said slowly, pulling back the quilt on the bed. “But you just have to rest.” 

The man fell asleep quickly, and you left him with the fan on and an open window to let in some breeze while you went outside to get some chores done. It was mostly busy work, hauling well water to fill the house’s water tank, checking on the laundry, feeding the horse from yesterday, and caring for your own horse in the stall beside the mystery horse. By the time you walked back inside, it was nearing noon, the grandfather clock in the living room reading half past eleven. 

The man was awake when you entered the bedroom, and you insisted on taking his temperature. 

“Just a minute,” you promised, holding the thermometer out. “Then I’ll leave. I have to go to town anyway. Think you’ll survive on your own?” 

The man gave you a look as he put the thermometer under his tongue. When it beeped, he handed it to you, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “One hundred and three point six,” you said out loud, putting the thermometer on the nightstand. “Getting lower.” 

“That’s good,” the man said. “I think.” 

“It’s better than it was yesterday,” you said, looking over the small bookshelf in the room and picking a book. “Here. Read as much of this as you can before I get back please. I’ll see if I can’t find anything to help your head while I’m out.” 

You ended up leaving the man with his book while you saddled your horse up and rode into town. The trip was only a few miles, but you almost never walked it out of fear you’d end up with heatstroke, just like the man in your house. 

“Heya Sal,” you said, dismounting and walking up to the convenience store. “How you doing?” 

Sal looked up, his cloudy eyes unfocused. He was older than everyone in town by a wide margin, but no one dared try and help him, lest they end up getting a cane to the ankle. “I’m doing fine,” he said, finally focusing on you. “How are you?” 

“Oh I’m hanging in there,” you said, smiling. “Gotta get some groceries. I ran out of eggs yesterday, if you can believe it.” 

Sal shook his head. “Just don’t go drinking them raw,” he said as you entered the convenience store. “I did that in my youth and let me say, made me sicker than a dog.” 

Smiling, you let the cold of the air conditioning wash over you as the door swung shut. The store was dead empty aside from the owner, who seemed oddly excited to see you. 

“I haven’t seen anyone else all day!” He said happily, hopping over the counter to hug you. “It’s good to see you, how’ve you been holding up?” 

“I’m fine Joey,” you said, hugging Joey back and flicking a stray brown cowlick he’d missed when he was getting ready. “I found a heatstroke victim yesterday, and I’m no nurse, but I think he’s getting better.”

Joey winced. “Out here? It’s a miracle he’s survived!” he said. “Is he okay?” 

You shrugged, reaching around Joey to grab a basket. “Headache,” you said. “Nausea, he’s still running a fever, and he’s woozy, but he’s awake now, so I don’t have to worry about a coma.” 

“Sounds rough,” Joey muttered, picking up a bottle off a shelf and handing it to you. “Here. Painkillers. Should help the mystery man’s head.” 

You grinned. “Joey, you are a lifesaver.” 

By the time you got home an hour later, the sun was at its peak, and you were worried about the man inside. But your worries were just that when you realized he was fine, sitting up in bed and reading the book you’d given him. He looked up as you walked in, carrying the bag of things you’d gotten him. He took his medicine without complaint, even though you knew it was probably nasty, and seemed to perk up when you told him you’d bought him new clothes because his old ones were disgusting. He joined you yet again on the porch when you went outside, although this time you sat beside him, working patiently on a cross stitch project. 

“Do you like working on these things?” the man asked, handing you your thread snips. “When you’re bored?” 

You snorted, tying off the thread you’d finished using. “Yes,” you said sarcastically. “I’m a ninety year old woman who has nothing better to do than to work on a cross stitch in my rocking chair.” 

The man laughed, passing you the thread bundle you gestured at. “I’m serious,” he said, watching you expertly thread the needle you were holding. “You’re very good at this.” 

His words made you warm, and you shrugged loosely. “There’s not much to do out here,” you admitted. “So yeah, I guess I do like it, cowboy.” 

“Jack.” 

“Hm?” 

The man looked you in the eyes, smiling slightly. “My name is Jack.” 

Just like that, Jack was no longer a mystery. He was a constant in your life for two more weeks as he recovered, growing stronger by the day. You gave him chores to do, making sure none of them were too labor intensive, and he pulled his weight around your cabin, hardly ever complaining. At night, you and him would watch the sunset on the porch, sitting side by side on the porch swing. You took care to finish your cross stitch, the tiny, rhythmic X stitches in the fabric lulling you into a state of calm night after night. 

One day, almost three weeks after Jack had arrived, he told you he had to leave. 

“I’m gonna go tomorrow,” he said, tangling his feet with yours under the kitchen table. He had made dinner, the chili a nice warm meal after your long day. “I was out here traveling, and my people back home are probably worried sick about me.” 

You nodded. You understood, you really did, but damn did it hurt to see him go. You liked having Jack around. He was funny and smart and an excellent cook. A tiny part of you wanted to ask him to stay, and then you remembered you didn’t live here either. You were just visiting, exactly as he was. 

The next morning, you helped Jack pack his things, giving him a nice new shirt to wear. 

“It’s thin,” you said, handing him the vibrant red fabric. “So it should help keep you from overheating. Just remember to drink water and to stay cool please.” 

Jack chuckled, putting his hat on his head and tipping the brim up. “Will do.” 

As Jack got dressed, you walked out to his horse, holding your completed cross stitch. It was a beautiful pixelated version of the landscape, the tiny cabin illuminated by the rising sun. Slipping it and a letter into Jack’s saddle bag, you gave his horse one last kiss on the nose before going to tell your cowboy good-bye. 

It was hell watching Jack ride away. He waved to you as he kicked his horse into a trot, disappearing over the horizon line faster than you wanted him to. When he came back into view, miniscule and almost unseeable, his red shirt a stain against the orange of the sand, you waved again, He saw you and his hand raised, bidding you farewell one last time before he looked out over the sea of rising buttes and sienna sand, riding off and leaving you alone under the cloudless sky.

[zaynmirrors]

Fire on Fire: Part 16 (10k)

Pairing: 10k x mom!reader

                                                Chapter 16

I had made it back to Illinois with little to no problems, surprising to say the least. The dirt path in front of me stretched for what felt like miles. 

The farmhouse was well protected. Reinforced fences, and a giant metal gate at the entrance. As I continued to walk a thought hit me, what if I’d come all this and she wasn’t alive. 

I shook my head ridding the thought but not completely. I looked up at the gate unsure of how to get past as if by magic it opened, revealing a man holding a shotgun. 

I put my hands up, “sorry to bother you but I think you may have my daughter” I said trying to come off confident. 

He lowered his gun slightly and asked, “y/n?” I nodded and he gave a small smile. “Murphy said you’d be coming back, just thought there’d be more of you” 

I shook my head, “no sir, just me” He frowned but moved to the side allowing me in then he shut the gate behind us. 

From the moment he had shut that gate I was treated like family. Welcomed in by strangers who didn’t feel like strangers, strangers who had raised my daughter. 

Speaking of my daughter, Emma had grown quite a bit. She was almost three now, and her hair was long and unruly as ever. Truly it was just a mop of curls, taking after Angel. 

“Y/n dear, do you mind getting some water?” I looked over at Maggie, the woman who had been so kind to take in my daughter. Her face set with wrinkles, and grey peppering her auburn hair. 

I nodded and headed out to the well pump. Aware of the shadow I had trailing my heels. I smiled to myself and played oblivious. 

I set down the pail under the faucet and began to pump the handle until the water ran. I let go and let it fill the bucket while I awaited my attacker. 

Almost out of nowhere something small grabs a hold of my leg trying to knock me down, which some of her force caused me to stumble. 

I quickly fell to the ground and said “you got me” before hanging my tongue from my mouth causing her to giggle. Smiling, I sat up and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. 

Emma wasn’t really verbal especially for a developing toddler. It reminded me of 10K who never left my mind, he was always there.I pushed the thought aside, choosing not to dwell. 

She crawled out of my lap, walking toward the barn cat she was obsessed with. Shaking my head with a smile I stood and headed inside with the bucket. “Here you go Mrs. Maggie” as I placed it on the counter. 

She said her thank you and started a fire in the wood stove, ready to boil the water to make something delicious for dinner. 

I have to say the best thing about staying here has been the home cooked meals. It’s been nice to have warm food. All the food is grown here by the hands of Davis, Maggie's husband. 

Dinner was made and ate, with light conversation and a few laughs. Maggie and Davis were the first to turn in, Emma and I following behind shortly. 

I never got much sleep though, the bed was too soft after getting accustomed to falling asleep sitting up or on the ground. 

Emma snored softly next to me, I stared out the window at the starry night sky. Listening to the silence which sometimes seemed deafening. I closed my eyes with a small sigh and tried to drift off. 

10k stood, a frown prominent on his face. His arms crossed over his chest he opened his mouth to speak but only thick crimson rolled out. The liquid covered his chin and began to drip, some fell on his jumpsuit and the rest fell to the sand. 

He began making his way towards me, a thick crimson tear falling from his eye. 

“You left me” his voice quivered, the blood making his voice wet. “I needed you” 

“I know, I’m so sorry” my stomach turned, sick at the knowledge I had done this. 

He whimpered in pain as another red tear fell, leaving a Scarlett path down his cheek to join the pool on his chin. “I needed you too!” He spat blood flying onto my face, “I’m always going to come second to her aren’t I?” His voice was emotionless, and thick with blood. 

“You know that's not-“ he cut me off, shoving me backwards I noticed my feet were on the edge of the cliff. Another push and I was done for. 

“You’re going to have to choose between me and her, so who’s it going to be y/n” his eyes pierced mine coldly, they held no warmth or comfort. They stared harsh and venomously. “Choose!” He shouted, shaking me. 

I cried out, “I can’t! I can’t!” A tear rolled down my cheek. I looked back into his eyes hoping that this time there would be some sense of home but they were still a deep black hole full of cruelty. 

“You can’t have both” 10k deadpanned, letting go. He moved further and further away, it registered that I was falling the moment I felt like I was flying. 

Inhaling sharply I awoke as I hit the ground in that torment of a dream. Emma still slept soundly beside me, and the sky outside the window was still pitch black. 

Nightmares were another reason I didn’t sleep. They were always different, but unfailingly including Emma and 10K in some sense. I figured they were from leaving 10k the way I did, but now I have no clue.  As I stared out the window I wondered what he was doing and if he was alright. If he just so happened to be staring at the sky wondering the same thing. 

I jolted awake from another nightmare, unaware I had fallen asleep again. By the looks of it Emma was already up for the day. I stretched and got myself ready.  The smell of biscuits wafted through the house, “sure smells good Mrs. Maggie” I said a smile on my face as she came into view. 

“Thank you dear, Emma’s outside helping Davis in the field” she chuckles “that girl sure doesn’t sit still for long, always has to do something” I nodded, it was true. Emma had a constant need to be doing something, didn’t matter what it was as long as she was occupied. While being here there was plenty for her to do. 

I took a biscuit and headed to the bookshelf which was one of many and plucked out a book. I made my way outside to the porch, taking a seat on the creaky wooden porch swing. This would most likely be where I spent my morning. 

It indeed was, Emma had joined me for an hour before she went with Davis to feed the livestock. Maggie had joined not too long after that propping up in her rocking chair reading a book too. 

What felt like hours went by, listening to the peacefulness of no Zs. Emma crawled into my lap ready to curl up for her afternoon nap. She made herself comfortable, falling asleep in minutes. I set the book down marking my page. Resting back I closed my eyes hoping to get some rest without a nightmare, that was wishful thinking though. 

Gasping awake I realized Emma was gone again, quickly I wiped the tear from my eye and looked around to ground myself. 

I knew they weren’t real but sometimes they just feel like they are. “Bad dream?” Davis asked as he started up the steps, I just nodded. “I think I might have something for that” with that he went inside to which I followed. We went down into the basement, where he handed me a dream catcher. 

“Our son used to swore it helped” he smiled sadly at the memory, “maybe it can help you” I gave him a small smile and a thank you as I gingerly took it. Their son was about my age from what they had told me, lost out there in the apocalypse. They had no clue if he was alive or undead. I sometimes wonder if not knowing would’ve been better. 

“Honey are you down there?” Maggies voice floated down the stairs. Davis replied with a ‘yeah is everything alright’ to which she replied, “I think there’s someone at the gate” Davis sprung into action running up the stairs, Maggie and Emma were ushered down and told to stay put with me. I grabbed the nearest thing I could use as a weapon which happened to be a screw-driver. 

“Mama?” Emma asked small as she held onto my leg. There was not fear in the voice just curiosity. 

I shushed her, “It’s fine Em, we’re fine” making sure my voice was steady and unwavering. Unsure of what was about to happen, I was thankful I got to spend some time with my daughter if we were about to die. 

“-shoot you” My ears picked up the last line as, I heard the pounding of boots above us, I glanced at Maggie who had a bat, when she had gotten that I have no Idea. 

“I know they’re here” The voice was muffled and somewhat unplaceable, it didn't sound like someone I knew. Emma dug into my leg a little more, rubbing her back I quietly shushed her. There was a loud thud causing me to furrow my eyebrows. Maggie and I shared a look before hearing Davis say “Ah shit”

Part 17

[echo-hiraeth]

“Will you just shut that kriffing mouth of yours and listen for a second?” Din Djarin x GN! Reader

Summary: Reader was forced to kill someone when a bounty retrieval went rogue and is pestered by memories of the scene. Din tries to comfort them to the best of his abilities.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of violence and blood, injury, death, some fluff to balance it all out (:

Masterlist

It was supposed to be an easy job but it had (not surprisingly) turned into a complete shitshow. Karga had slid the puck across the table, informing the Mandalorian that it was just a harmless quarry. Din was eager to accept it and take things slow from there on out. Because for months now everything had been pure chaos and hecticness, it started to take a toll on the three of you.

The baby started getting more fussy and restless, sensing the stress and pent-up frustrations within the Crest. It had sounded like a dream, the perfect opportunity for the both of you to take a break.

“No matter what happens, stay in the ship”, Din ordered while slinging his pulsar rifle over his shoulder. “If you need anything, talk to me.”

He slid a tiny device into your clammy hand, a commlink. You looked up at him, giving him a half smile. No matter the stakes or risks, you always hated it when he left.

“Just be careful, please?” You gently rested your hand against his chest plate.

The bounty hunter tilted his helmet, trying to reassure his partner. “Don’t worry cyar’ika. It’s an easy job, should only take a couple hours.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. He’d survived way more dangerous trips, he’d be fine.

The Mandalorian turned to leave, opening the hull and promptly stepping outside. He reminded you to start up the ground security protocol and with that he took off. The shine of his beskar slowly fading away as he ventured into the distance.

Another bounty, another day alone on the ship. Well, that was until your foundling woke up and accompanied you. You spent an hour cleaning the ship, picking up dirty clothes and quickly sweeping the floors. By the time you got around to the small kitchen, you heard cooing and whining coming from Din’s cot.

As you opened the door you were met with those big brown eyes, melting your heart on sight.

“Good morning little one”, you mused, picking him up to press a gentle kiss to his fuzzy head.

He reached out, tiny hands cupping your face, as if trying to reciprocate the gesture. You chuckled, absolutely smitten by his antics. A chuckle of his own left his throat upon seeing you so relaxed.

“Let’s get you some breakfast ad’ika.”

 Karga was right, the bounty didn’t even fuss when Din went to collect him. He simply nodded and extended his arms, cooperating as the beskar-covered man secured the handcuffs around the quarry’s wrists. He was human, and if Din had to guess maybe in his sixties, face covered in wrinkles and scars, each telling a story of their own.

“I hope you didn’t have too much trouble getting here, the sandstorms tend to be quite intense.”

Din sighed, helping the quarry stand up and slowly guiding him out of the cantina. He rolled his eyes underneath the helmet, steadily becoming more and more annoyed with every attempt at conversation that left the old man’s mouth.

“Do you ever take that bucket off?”, the man questioned, gesturing towards the helmet.

“No living thing has seen my face since I swore to the creed”, the Mandalorian replied in a monotone voice.

“Oh so you can talk, you’re just stubborn.” The man let out a laugh, amused by his own remark.

The bounty hunter decided right there and then that his new guest would spend his time on the ship in the carbonite freezer, in silence. As the Crest came into view, Din started to pick up his pace, not caring about the sand starting to obstruct his visor.

“That’s the start of a new storm, if we don’t find cover soon, we’ll both be dead!” The man yelled, the sound of the harsh wind picking up almost drowning him out completely.

“Less talking more running”, the Mandalorian commanded, dragging the bounty by the collar of his shirt. Their bodies colliding in the process.

He tapped away on his vambrace, the hull of his beloved ship starting to open. Distracted by the storm, Din was surprised by the sudden laser blast flying past him.

“Give me my father and I might just let you live”, a female voice spoke.

Within a second he whipped around, face to face with a small woman, a blaster in each hand. She wore a mask, hiding her face from him and goggles to guard her eyes from the sand.

“I’m not asking again, Mandalorian.”

“I’m afraid I don’t negotiate easily”, Din sighed, reaching for his own blaster, only to find it missing.

“I suggest you listen to my daughter.” The man spoke, blaster held in his cuffed hands. He must’ve apprehended it when they’d bumped into one another.

Din tried to assess the situation and its possible outcomes. He quickly wrapped his arm around the man’s throat, holding him in a threatening chokehold while hastily grabbing the blaster from his hands.

He mentally scolded himself for being so uncaring and distracted. He could clearly use a break as well.

The girl quickly fired at him, pulling him out of his own head, aiming for the weak spot between his helmet and right pauldron.

He stumbled back a bit, hissing at the burning flesh.

“Next one won’t miss”, the daughter threatened, taking a few confident strides in his direction.

Without hesitation he fired his blaster, barely missing the girl who moved at a surprisingly fast pace.

She pointed the blaster at him once again, but before she could pull the trigger, she fell down. Din hit the quarry in the head with his elbow, his unconscious form falling the ground.

“Cyar’ika..” Din started, looking at your trembling form, blaster still aimed at the woman.

“There’s no time, get them inside, storm’s getting worse.” You’d tried to sound confident despite the obvious shake in your voice.

Din was left alone, quickly dragging the bodies into the hull of the ship while you went to the ‘fresher. Locking the door you had to hold on to the metal counter to steady yourself. Your knuckles turned white with the intensity of your grip. The sound of your shallow breaths filled the small space, only causing you to panic even more.

Meanwhile, in the hull of the ship, the Mandalorian had put the bounty into the carbonite freezer. He then kneeled beside the woman’s body, carefully removing her coverings. He shook his head upon seeing her face, she was young, just a kid. Despite being seen as a cold killer, he hated this, he hated having to involve innocent people into other people’s messes.

As he went to stand again, he felt a dull ache in his shoulder and remembered the injury he’d sustained earlier. He quietly made his way over to the fresher, while cautiously removing his pauldron. He stopped dead in his tracks upon hearing your soft sobs.

“Are you hurt?”, his modulated voice was faint and low.

You gasped, quickly wiping your eyes and splashing your face with some water.

“N-no, I’m fine. Are you?” You slid the door open, and were met with a tilt of his helmet that you interpreted as nothing but concern for you.

“You did what you had to do, to protect me, us.”

Your shoulders started shaking at his words, sobs filling the silence. He was never good at this but wanted nothing more than to help you, so gently, he put his arms around you. His embrace was gentle and soft, almost as if you would break if he were to hold you any tighter.

The tears freely streamed down your cheeks now and fell onto the beskar, rolling down his chest plate as your body trembled.

He winced a little when you went to wrap your arms around his neck. Your eyes quickly found his visor. His heart ached when he saw your glassy eyes, which were otherwise so vibrant and full of life.

“Is she dead?”, you croaked out, never averting your gaze from the visor.

Din hesitantly held your hands in his, slowly nodding.

“A-are you injured?”, you asked trying to regain control over your emotions.

“It’s just a scratch, I can take care of it, you sho-“

“Let me help you, please,” you begged while extending your arms towards the med kit.

“You really don’t have to.” He spoke softly.

You forced a smile, guiding him back to the hull and froze upon seeing the body, the woman. Her face was bare, revealing a young girl, a teenager, a kid. Scoffing, you looked up at the ceiling in an attempt not to break out in tears again.

“Let’s get you patched up.”

 After you tended to Din’s wounds, the storm had passed. He suggested you throw the body out of the ship, but you insisted he wouldn’t. A loaded silence filled the cockpit ever since, until he prepared the ship to take off.

“Y/n, you need to process this, seeing her body will only make it harder.” He reiterated, trying to convince you to leave her behind once more.

“She deserves a proper burial, just get us to the outer rim of this hellhole”, with that you’d left him and the baby in the cockpit, disappearing into your cot.

As you went to lay down and close your eyes, sleep quickly settled in, the sheer exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you. The earlier events plagued you, the scene replaying over and over again. Except she screamed and cried for mercy in your nightmare, which made you jolt awake. Your hands rested over your eyes as you started to sob again. You never thought you’d have to shoot, let alone kill someone, but here you were, a murderer, not even strong enough to face the consequences of their own actions.

Din rushed to your side upon hearing your cries and screams.

“What happened?”, he removed your hands form your face, wanting you to look at him.

“How can you stand to even look at me…”, you spoke through gritted teeth, voice laced with self-hatred.

“You did what you-“

You shoved past him while interrupting: “No Din, that’s not what I meant. How can you stand to live your life with someone so weak and pathetic.”

“What do you mean?”, he questioned, grabbing a hold of your wrist to keep you from leaving the small cot.

“What good is a partner if they can’t even kill to save their life.”

“Stop it.”

“I mean it, you should’ve just left me back there to perish in the sand.”

“I said stop that.” He grabbed your jaw and made you face him. “For Maker’s sake, will you just shut that kriffing mouth of yours and listen for a second.”

Your eyes started brimming with tears again as you slowly nodded your head.

“If I wanted someone to help me with the bounties, I would’ve gotten someone from the guild. I didn’t hire an assassin and I don’t need you to be one either. You’re here because I want you to be. You’re here because I couldn’t stand to not have you with me. You’re here because you keep me grounded.”

You took a step towards him, tears threatening to spill.

“Din I-“

“I’m not finished. The way you care for the kid.. the way you make sure that I always have food and water, the way you take short showers so that I have hot water as well. The way you pick up after us, how you tend to our every need and desire. You made this ship into a home for the three of us, with your love and care. I don’t want you to be okay with what you did because you wouldn’t be the cyar’ika that I’ve grown to care about.”

He stumbled back when you practically hurled yourself into his arms. His gloves hands rested on your lower back as you stood in a comfortable silence, the only sounds being his frantic breathing. A modulated chuckle escaped his armour as he sensed you nuzzling into him.

“Thank you”, you whispered into the space between his helmet and shoulder.

“Close your eyes y/n.. let me kiss you”, he murmured, hands gripping onto you more tightly.

You hummed, doing as you were told and soon you heard the clang of beskar against the floor. Before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours. He wanted them to speak for him, afraid that his words would fall short in trying to describe the complete and utmost adoration he felt for and because of you. His movements were eager and desperate, the lack of touch and affection over the years encouraging him to kiss you even harder. Your teeth accidentally grazed his lip, which startled him a bit. This caused the both of you to break apart, his hand quickly coming up to cover your eyes, just as a precaution.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”, he breathed, panting as his lips found yours once again.

You didn’t know what it meant, but you know that if he said it in Mando’a it must’ve been something he wasn’t ready to have you know just yet, but you didn’t mind, you had all the time in world.

[xyliane]

AUgust 7: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS 12 YEAR OLD

PROMPT THE SEVENTH: CHILDHOOD FRIENDS wait how can you childhood friends au killugon, I asked myself, forgetting that I had a whole-ass idea in my drafts already. this one’s a proper fic, too (minus editing cuz l o l it’s an AU writing challenge, not editing challenge). T, aged-up killugon, modern day au. ft ambiguous descriptions of social media, alluka, kalluto, and leorio in killua’s corner, and zushi and spinner in gon’s, brief discussion of getting plastered and dealing with a hangover. 5000 words.

0o0o0o0o0

The first sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Killua wakes up with a hangover.

This does not happen. Killua can count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten so drunk he’s had a hangover, and most of them are the fault of his little siblings. Little siblings who are now living together, whose couch he is currently painfully existing upon, half too hot and his toes way too cold. And the couch is too soft, an old secondhand thing he’d helped Alluka grapple up the stairs months ago after they found it outside an old dorm. He makes a notch in his very sore brain to blame the current situation on them. Kalluto might be kind enough to let a drunk big brother crash with them, but Alluka has a devious streak a mile wide.

Yeah. This is definitely their fault.

One eye slowly creaks open, surveying his surroundings through blurry vision. Nothing out of the ordinary here. He’s in the pajamas he’s left with Alluka forever ago, curled up under an old blanket he gave her for Nanika’s birthday. It’s covered in the Matrix code, all green letters on black wool. It barely covers him from chest to knees, which explains the cold toes.

Sunlight flickers through the curtains, cheerful and bright, and Killua pulls the blanket over his face. He’ll take cold toes over being blinded by his headache.

The second sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when a noise like a chainsaw burrowing through a marshmallow erupts from his phone buzzing on the coffee table, just barely out of reach.

Killua attempts to bury himself under the blanket. He’s not dealing with work today.

And then he remembers: He doesn’t have work. Work can’t bother him today. Not just because it’s a weekend—work never respected the sanctity of weekends, no matter that he was at least partially in charge and used to have a fancy degree hanging on his wall. He doesn’t have work anymore. Killua quit.

Which, well. That explains the hangover.

He’s still blaming his siblings.

His phone buzzes loud enough to break the sound barrier, and Killua decides, fuck it. He doesn’t have anything to lose. If it’s the-place-formerly-known-as-work, he can delete everything. If it’s Mom or Father, he can definitely delete everything. And maybe it’s a friendly person, congratulating him on giving up a job that for anyone else would have been an absolute money-making dream. He’ll delete those too.

It takes a few tries to unlock his phone, and it unfortunately involves opening his eyes, squinting against the glaring light of the screen. But once he does, he frowns. Maybe he’s seeing double. Or a hundredfold. Because he should not have this many notifications.

awwww cute, i hope u 2 find each other! the top one says. It has several hundred likes. Why is it in his notifications?

Scrolling down reveals that it’s not an anomaly.

wtf man how can you find a TWELVE YEAR OLD from FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.

Me and my mom went on a cruise around there once, it was really pretty!

this is so sweet T__T maybe this is him?

And then another hundred photos of brown-skinned men with varying degrees of shirt-wearing, all black haired and most of them buff in very appealing ways and all of them beaming at Killua.

“What the fuck,” Killua croaks as he scrolls through all of the images and messages. Maybe this is a dream. A really weird, hangover-induced dream about how little of a social life he has, that his phone is possessed by someone else’s. A warning of sorts, that he should never have installed any social media on his phone ever, not even for hookups.

The reason for all the notifications lies at the top of his own page. Just a few sentences, all-caps, with an image of an old crinkled photo of two boys on a tropical beach, grinning at the camera. Killua sees himself, white curly hair flying in all directions and pale skin sunburned and ruddy with the briny wind, happier than Killua can ever remember being. Next to him, one arm slung around his shoulders and the other holding a bucket full of seashells, is a brown-skinned boy with freckles dancing across his nose and the tops of his shoulders, brown eyes wide and laughing and black hair thick and spiked from some mix of wind and seawater and natural gravity defiance.

He didn’t know he still had this photo. It had followed him from childhood all the way through grad school, a carefully guarded keepsake hidden away from the watchful eyes of his parents and Illumi, before ending up in a box or a bag at some point in the last few years. Part of Killua thought he’d lost it in the move. He barely remembers much about being twelve, about the cruise he’d been forcibly dragged on. But he remembers…

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? yells the caption. WE WERE BEST FRIENDS FOR A WEEK WHEN I GOT DRAGGED ON A CRUISE BY MY ASSHOLE PARENTS. HE WAS 12 ON WHALE ISLAND 15 YEARS AGO. IF FOUND, DM IMMEDIATELY.

“Gon,” Killua breathes.

He gathers himself, wrapping the blanket around his head in a feeble protection against the morning, and lurches over to Alluka’s room.

He gets to bang on her door three times, confused spite winning out over his own pounding headache, before Kalluto appears out of their room, blinking blearily at Killua. “Shut up.”

Killua kicks Alluka’s door for good measure, and brandishes his phone in front of him like a weapon. “Not until you explain what the hell this is doing on the internet.”

Kalluto pales, then flushes, then pales again. “Oh. Um.”

At that, Alluka creaks her door open, guilty blue eyes far too awake for how close to noon it is. Killua kind of wants to kill her on principle alone. If he has to be hungover, so does everyone else.

“Explain,” he grinds out through his teeth.

The third and final sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Alluka puts on her most winning smile, the kind she uses to ward off angry customers and idiotic faux-academics on the internet. “Congratulations, Brother! I might have made you go viral.”

Killua throws his phone at her.

—————

Today’s going to be a good day, Gon decides. He’s been in the forests of East Gorteau for the better part of a month, which normally isn’t so bad. But this group has been…They’re nice enough, when Gon’s not spending half of his time explaining that, no, that species of plant does not make a good stew, and no, that species is endangered please don’t hunt them, and yes Gon is sure he doesn’t date his clients even after the hike, and no the reason the tent fell over again is because it wasn’t properly set up in the first place—

All of Aunt Mito’s complaints about tourists on Whale Island make so much more sense, now that Gon’s leading backwoods hikes.

But last night had been fun! Spinner had met the group at a pre-set campsite not far from their pickup so Gon hadn’t had to work the whole night, and he could relax with his friend over good food, more alcohol than he probably should have drunk, and not having to explain to Mrs. Yuldvin the difference between marijuana, buckeye, and poison oak again. Spinner had even taken care of the fire, although she had left him to rescue the Podomos siblings from the ruins of their tent with nothing more than a smirk and a wave. Nevertheless, Gon smiled through his headache all morning, because soon he’ll be home, and he can sleep.

Zushi is waiting in the parking lot once Gon’s done packing up the last of the gear and saying goodbye to Spinner, jeep idling while he flicks through his phone, thick eyebrows drawn together in increasing concern. He doesn’t even look up until Gon drops his pack onto the hood of the car, and he jolts so badly in surprise that he tosses his phone in the air.

“Are you okay?” Gon asks, and tries to peek at the screen.

Zushi pulls it up and away, a frantic look in his eyes. It won’t really keep Gon from seeing what’s happening, not if he wants to, but Zushi’s height is enough of a deterrent to make it hard. “You were gone way too long,” he says.

Gon leans against the hot metal of Zushi’s car. It wasn’t an unusual length for a trip, not really—this backcountry needs the length to be able to see and understand the region. Not to mention the Small Billed Swan preservation society keeping the whole place locked down except to authorized guides and trekkers. Zushi knows this. They’ve been roommates long enough that this isn’t even the longest time Gon’s been gone.

“You knew I’d be gone til today,” Gon says.

“Yeah, but…” Zushi’s eyebrows descend even further, scrunching his whole face up in worry. “You haven’t checked your phone, right?”

“No?” Even if he did have cell service, Gon never brings his own phone. He borrows Kite’s satellite phone, because it is more reliable and doesn’t need to be charged constantly.

“Okay. Well.” Zushi takes a deep breath, then another, one of Wing’s old meditation techniques. Despite his exhaustion and single-minded determination to sink into a real bed and sleep for a week, Gon feels a minor pang of worry. On breath three, he unlocks his phone and turns it towards Gon. “You’re a meme.”

On Zushi’s screen is a photo Gon can’t ever forget about. Backed by Whale Island’s sunbleached white beaches and the humid brilliant colors of summer, Gon sees himself—twelve, smiling from ear to ear, hair a mess from swimming and his shirt practically covered in sand from digging up all the seashells in his bucket. He’s got an arm around another boy, who’s caught mid-laugh so his blue eyes burn the same color as the sky, white curls even messier than Gon’s hair. They look like they’ve known each other their whole lives, like they’d still be best friends even if they haven’t seen or spoken to each other since the photo was taken.

Gon hopes Killua thinks so, too.

He cradles the phone in his hand, carefully zooming in on their faces and the errant crinkles visible through the photo. His own faded copy is in a drawer, having survived a whole trip around the world and countless apartment jumps. This one looks just as well cared for, in its own way.

“That…is you, right?” Zushi asks carefully. “Because Wing was asking, and half of Kite’s guide company is yelling about it on your social media page that you don’t even use, and now people are messaging me, and they’re saying the weirdest things, and the post is from last week, so—”

“It’s Killua,” Gon says. A smile spreads across his face, a mirror to the one he’d had when he was twelve. “That’s Killua!”

“Who?” the others ask, but Gon isn’t listening.

He spins, frantically searching his pockets for his phone. “Spinner, can you do me a favor?”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

Gon knew today was going to be a good day.

—————

It’s been a week, and Killua has quit all social media forever.

The steady buzz of his phone informing the apartment of his notifications is not his problem. Alluka’s the one who decided to hack into his phone and post something to his old public account, the one he mostly uses for photos of cats and complaining about terrible business precedents. He hasn’t posted much since school, and if anything, it should have simply vanished into the void of the internet.

He finds the culprit fairly quickly, and for once it’s not his sister’s moderate but dedicated video following.

“Old man, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Leorio lounges in Alluka and Kalluto’s living room, freshly out of his scrubs and looking pleased as all hell. “I just reblogged a fun post from my friend,” he says somewhat defensively. “You were a cute kid, Killua. What happened?”

Killua feels a growl creep up his throat. “You can’t just do that,” he snaps.

“It’s not my fault the people like my well-coiffed but rugged appearance and dedication to social justice in medicine.”

“You have 500,000 followers because you made a joke post two years ago, and some authorized user reblogged it five times. It has nothing to do with your ugly mug.” If Killua squints and plugs his ears, he can even see why people think Leorio’s attractive or whatever: tan skin, lean but strong as hell, actually takes care of his hair, not to mention a damn good doctor with one of the most prestigious institutions in Yorknew who spends most of his free time running health clinics in impoverished neighborhoods. That’s all swell. But then he starts talking, and Killua has no idea where the off button is.

Leorio spreads a hand out, gesturing vaguely with the glass of iced tea that he’d helped himself to out of Alluka’s stash. “It has everything to do with my ‘ugly mug,’” he says. “Which is why I used my powers for good and spread your post. Don’t you want to find him?”

“Not like this!”

“You were not going to find him at all,” Kalluto’s quiet voice pipes up from the kitchen. They have night classes tonight, but Killua has a feeling that even if they were supposed to be attending their Yorknew Uni lectures, they would still be here making Killua’s life worse. “You’ve had that picture for years, and you did not even try to look.”

Leorio gives him a judgmental look over the tops of his stupid tiny glasses. “You haven’t?”

It would be a losing game to bury his burning face in one of the throw pillows, so Killua does his best to cross his arms over his chest and glower instead. “I…tried.”

“And?”

“I don’t even know his last name!” Killua splutters. “I didn’t have his number or where he was from, other than his mom worked on the ship. And that cruiseline went bankrupt and liquidated everything before I could get out of the house, so I couldn’t even look that up.”

Kalluto crosses over from the kitchen and perches like a sweatshirt-wearing crow on the coffee table, their blue eyes carefully neutral under straight black bangs. “Alluka and Nanika would have helped. Or even Milluki, if you had explained the situation.”

“I was eighteen, okay? I just left home, and our parents were still being…shit, themselves, I guess.” He hadn’t even considered asking for help. Then again, he’d tried the moment he could, that first summer of undergrad where he didn’t have to come home and Illumi couldn’t spend half his time breathing down the back of Killua’s neck. He had a general idea of where they’d gone, maps of islands scurried away in the closet with the old photo and a bag full of seashells Gon had given him as a going-away present.

They’d been friends for a week, in the whirlwind way that only kids can be. The cruise ship was massive, and Killua’s parents were in meetings half the time and playing nice with the other rich people on board the other half. Killua had been bored witless, and Gon was everything he couldn’t have possibly imagined: encouraging Killua to go exploring, to stealing food from the kitchens, making him help clean up the decks, playing cards with the deckhands. Sneaking off the boat to visit an island without Killua’s parents while the ship was docked, scrambling over the burning hot sands and dashing through the jungle, diving into the waves fully clothed and competing to see who could find the biggest prettiest shells. Gon’d been Killua’s first friend, his first crush, his first…a lot of firsts.

Then the cruise had ended, and Killua forgot to give Gon his phone number. His address. Anything. They’d been so swept up in being friends, being best friends, it had seemed impossible that they would never see each other again.

Does Gon even remember? Why should he, when Killua hasn’t contacted him? Would they even be friends anymore?

Maybe he hadn’t searched hard enough. But part of Killua thinks he shouldn’t have tried at all.

The phone buzzes loudly, and Killua tries not to flinch.

“Hey, Killua. It’s okay.” Leorio leans forward, hands clasped over his too-long limbs and expression gentle. “If you want me to delete it, I will. Not sure I can help with the viral part of things, except maybe go through your messages and delete the gross ones, or at least find the weirdest ones for you to laugh at later.”

“Alluka and I have been doing this already,” Kalluto says, their posture a little too protective for Killua’s raw nerves at this point. “But perhaps you have some suggestions for what to do next, Dr. Paladiknight?”

Leorio smiles sympathetically. “Don’t read the comments? That said, most of your comments have been much more positive than anything I usually post. The masses seem to be genuinely rooting for you, kid.”

“I have only had to delete a dozen lewd messages for you this morning,” Kalluto adds, not mentioning the hundred or so that Alluka took care of yesterday.

Killua’s traitorous phone buzzes again, and that’s it. Time to bury himself in a pillow. Killua flops onto the couch, narrowly missing Leorio, and does his best to burrow into the cushions. “That’s just great,” he says into the fabric.

A comforting hand rubs against his hair, messing up the curls for a moment, and Killua refuses to admit that it’s nice, that he has friends like Leorio who even bother to care. “It could be worse. You could be dealing with this while still working a soul-sucking job making more money than most of us will see in our lifetimes, in exchange for giving up all of your morals.”

Killua groans loudly. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“You’re gonna need to do something, Killua! And hey, I might be able to set something up with my—”

“I already told you, no.”

“But it’s what you’re good at. And you wouldn’t be fucking people over to do it.”

“No.”

“Just listen for one—”

Killua lifts his head enough to glare as murderously as he can at Leorio. It must work at least a little, because the doctor shuts up.

Meanwhile, Kalluto is scrolling through Killua’s phone, poking at the screen occasionally. In the awkward silence, their sharp gasp is loud enough to shatter a window, and they hurriedly shove the phone in the pocket of their oversized sweatshirt.

Leorio raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Kalluto squeezes their eyes shut for a moment, then carefully places the phone on the coffee table, screen pointed innocently at the ceiling. “You will want to look at this one, Brother.”

“This isn’t another erotic sandcastle is it?” he says.

Kalluto shakes their head, and Killua’s stomach lurches up his throat. Alluka has been the one excited about this whole thing. But Kalluto, as reserved as they are, is a massive romantic. The whole thing might be Alluka’s fault, but Killua knows it’s Kalluto who almost lets themselves believe it’ll work. Despite all of the false positives, the people who send messages that don’t sound right or photos that have the wrong smile.

Killua doesn’t want to hope. It can’t possibly be Gon. But his hands shake nonetheless as he unlocks his phone and finds a new message in his DMs.

It’s not from Gon.

Instead, someone with the icon of a small-billed white swan in a soft small-billed hat and a handle of @flymypretties has sent a photo of a brown-skinned man with spiky black hair absolutely covered in dirt and grime. He’s waving at the camera, a backpacking bag propped against his shoulder and the widest smile Killua has ever seen beaming straight through the screen and into his chest. Next to him and half out of frame, a tall tanned man with massive black eyebrows and a tank top showing off an impressive amount of muscle has his head in his hands. Killua feels a sharp stab of sympathy, somewhere buried beneath the racing of his heart.

look im sorry about this but this idiot can’t find his phone and we r kind of in the middle of nowhere so reception’s shit. he wants to know if you admit he found the biggest seashell on the beach, whatever that means.

For a long, long moment—seconds? minutes maybe?—Killua can do nothing but stare at the screen of his phone. Leorio and Kalluto both look at him with a mix of curiosity and worry, Kalluto starting to slowly reach for the phone.

In a completely childish protective moment, Killua grabs it against his chest, like the image will vanish if he doesn’t keep it close.

“Is it…?” Leorio asks.

Killua swallows heavily, trying to think around the roaring of the ocean in his ears. “I think so,” he says faintly.

Kalluto’s eyes widen, and they spin on their heels towards their room. “I’m calling Alluka!”

—————

“Has he responded?”

“No!”

“…what about now?”

Spinner throws her hands in the air so violently that her hat falls off. “For god’s sake, Gon, it’s been an hour, you don’t even have your phone, and you still need to go home.”

Gon huffs and pouts. They’re still in the parking lot over an hour after the rest of the trekking group has left, and all the exhaustion that had settled into Gon’s body from the tour has been turned into a jittery energy that keeps trying to leak out from under his skin. He wants to go home immediately and dig out his copy of the photo, rub out the old fingerprints he and Aunt Mito have left on it over the years. He wants to find his phone and message Killua directly. He wants to wait right here until Killua responds, no matter how long it takes.

He knows it’s childish, to be this selfish. Spinner has work to do, work that she already put on hold to help with the last day of the tour. Kite probably will want to know what’s happening, or at least why his lead guide and his chief guide organizer have been stuck in a parking lot. And Gon can practically feel Zushi’s obsessive scrolling through social media, frantically trying to navigate Gon’s feeds without actually having access.

Gon needs to find his phone.

“Spinner, what if—”

It’s not that Spinner’s a large woman. Out of the three people standing in the parking lot, Zushi’s far and away the strongest, even if he is about as threatening as a large, muscular teddy bear. And Gon has only packed on weight and muscle over his years of backpacking around the wilderness, no matter that he’s not super tall. But Spinner goes for longer, harder treks on her own than anyone but Kite, and she packs in her own climbing gear on top of that, so when she tosses Gon into the back of Zushi’s jeep, he flies.

“Zushi,” she says in a low exhausted snarl, and he jumps right off the hood of his car. Gon probably would have felt bad for him, if everything wasn’t spinning. “If you do not take your roommate home, I am not responsible for the consequences.”

“What if you hear back?” Gon groans around the aches in his side.

Spinner rolls her eyes, and Gon knows she’s just tired. “I’ll let you know.”

“But what if my phone’s gone? What will I do if someone stole it, or if I can’t—”

“I’ll call you go home already,” she says, and slams the door shut on his face.

For a long moment, the only sound is Spinner storming away, boots thudding heavily in the dirt until her car door slams.

The jeep shifts slightly as Zushi quietly lowers himself into the driver’s seat and puts the key into the ignition. Gon wants to tell him to follow Spinner, so she can yell out the window as soon as Killua gets back to her. But Zushi looks about ready to bolt. So Gon slumps back in the seat, the rumble of tires crunching through gravel making his already jittery nerves shake.

A small voice that sounds a lot like Kite tells Gon that it’s better to wait, that it will be easier to have a conversation and determine if this really is Killua after a rest and a shower.

Gon doesn’t want that, though. He wants…

It’s been a long time since he was on Whale Island. Longer still since he saw Killua. That doesn’t mean he stopped thinking about either of them, during the quiet moments out under the stars. They’re part of him, like his lungs are part of him—essential and irreplaceable, buried so far inside that removing them would change him irrevocably.

What is Killua like now? Is Gon just as important to him as he is to Gon? He has to be. Right?

They make it home without saying anything else. Gon floats in and out between bone-deep weariness and electric sparks of nervous joy, and Zushi flinches every time Gon jolts himself from one to the other.

“Hey, are you…I mean, maybe not okay, but.”

Gon lifts his chin up sharply at the sound of his roommate’s voice, and notices the familiar apartment complex in front of him. Oh, they’re home. “I’m good,” he says, and grins.

“Sure,” Zushi says like he doesn’t believe Gon.

A dubious silence stretches out between them as they gather the rest of the gear, dropping it in a heap on the sidewalk. “You were kids, though,” Zushi finally says.

Gon shrugs and slams the door shut hard enough to make the vehicle rattle. “I didn’t forget. So I don’t think Killua would, either.”

Zushi’s eyebrows wrinkle on each other, like they can’t decide whether to go up or down and settle on some combination of the two. “What if he did?”

“He didn’t,” Gon says, more sure of that than anything else in his life.

Zushi’s eyebrows dance again, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Between Gon’s camping gear and Zushi’s leftover practice pads, it takes longer than Gon’s excitement can take to get everything settled enough to look for his phone. Well, Gon would have liked to look for his phone, but Zushi makes a pointed look at the shower. There are only so many places the phone could be in the whole apartment, after all.

Gon’s just drying off when Zushi knocks on the door. “I found it, but it’s dead,” he says, voice muffled.

“Then charge it!” Gon shouts. After a moment, he adds, quieter and less snappishly, “Please?”

A faint laugh echoes through the apartment.

By the time Gon can make himself a very early dinner of whatever he could grab out of the cabinets without thinking, the phone is charged enough to turn on. Sure enough, there are a wide variety of messages, mostly from Kite’s groupchat asking about the viral post. A few are from former hikers, people who Gon liked enough to share contact info, offering to see if they can get in touch. There are even a few—okay, how did they get ahold of his old social media page? It’s practically defunct, since Gon’s never had a phone capable of more than the most basic apps. And those are…

It’s flattering in a way, but Gon’s not really into that. Or them.

Zushi catches sight of the grimace, and takes one look over Gon’s shoulder before turning beet red.

By the time he’s gone through and deleted the vast majority of what had been filling up his phone, there’s still no message from Spinner, and nothing at all from Killua. Gon sighs and lies his head down on the table with a heavy thunk.

The other chair scrapes heavily along the tiles as Zushi sits, a mug of coffee in his hands. “What will you do? When he messages you, I mean.”

When, not if, an unexpected certainty coming from Zushi. Gon has the best friends in the world. “Talk to him,” Gon says. “It’s only been fifteen years, right? We promised we’d be friends forever.”

“A lot changes in fifteen years,” Zushi says.

“Not that.”

“Then why didn’t you look for him?”

Gon frowns. It had taken a long, long time, but Aunt Mito managed to track down the cruise captain the last time they were in port, tracing through old charters until the right names came up. But when she’d called them up, she’d been met with stonewall after stonewall, pleasant-sounding voices insisting in no uncertain terms that she would never speak with a member of Killua’s family, let alone let her son speak to his friend. By the time Gon was old enough to look himself, he found nothing but a mansion full of people whose eyes matched Killua’s in everything except for his warmth, who refused to even acknowledge Gon’s presence except to throw him out.

That had been years ago. It’s not that Gon stopped looking. Not exactly.

“I did, but I—” Gon starts to say, but his phone buzzes violently against the table, and they both jump out of their chairs.

“Is it—?” Zushi asks, breath in his throat.

It’s a message from Spinner. you owe me big time, kid, she says, followed by a phone number.

Gon rips his phone off the cable, a wide smile spreading across his face. “It is,” he says, and dials Killua.

—————

bzz bzz—

bzz bzz—

bzz b—

“H-hello?”

“Killua! Hi!”

“…Gon? Is that—It’s really…?”

“Killua, it’s you, I thought I’d never—”

“I did find the biggest seashell, and you know it.”

A breath, sharp and astonished. “The blue and white one, with green lines.”

“I found it, and I gave it to you.”

“I still have it.”

A snort of amusement, slightly damp. “I know. You promised you’d keep it.”

“I did. And I promised—”

“That we’d be friends forever.”

A laugh, delighted and teary at the same time. “I knew you remembered.”

“I did promise you that I would.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

(AUgust prompts)

[valiantly-onward]

The Serpentine War Ch. 5

Chapter 5: Fire And Water

Ray drew a hand across the back of his scruff. He needed a shave, badly. He used to shave every other day. But used to was so long ago. Ray hadn’t realized how many months had flown by until Maya mentioned something about his improvement since the New Year.

“What?” he said, parrying her strike.

Maya lowered her katana. “Your form. It actually looks like a form now.”

In Maya-speak, that meant brilliant, so Ray took it.

Maya frowned in concentration. She was about his age, seventeen or eighteen, and wore a simple red outfit that made Ray feel self-conscious about his own ripped jacket. Black hair hung lightly over her shoulders. She had a proud face - high cheekbones and dark, pretty eyes.

She raised the blade again. “I’ll defend this time.”

So she did. Back and forth they went, so painfully slow that Ray wanted to burst. But it was working - last week, they’d reviewed the moves at full speed and Ray kept up.

They worked themselves to a sweat until the monastery door slid open. They stopped to face Wu as he stepped down into the courtyard.

“Good morning, Master Wu.” Maya bowed.

Ray tried not to wrinkle his nose. Maya always called the guy Master but the word felt alien on Ray’s tongue, especially applied to a man who looked barely older than Ray himself (though Ray suspected he wasn’t). And Wu didn’t seem to mind, title or no.

Nevertheless, Ray nodded his head respectfully. Steam wafted from the teacup in Wu’s hand. In his other hand was the ever-present Nin-Jo, the bamboo weapon that Maya favored. Ray had laughed the first time he saw her training with it. Three seconds later, when the butt of the staff swung against his gut, he promised himself he’d never laugh again.

Wu sipped his tea. “Good morning. Today, we shall train powers.”

A frown flitted across Ray’s face, which Wu ignored. Ray thought of all those months ago, and the promise the Master made.

I am a ninja, Wu had said. But I will not teach you to be a ninja. I will teach you what you need to know to face the Serpentine. You will learn your powers. You will learn strength. More will follow in time.

But Ray had not faced the Serpentine. He had not learned his powers either. They refused to emerge. A dark thought lingered in Ray’s mind. Was it possible for Elemental powers to skip two generations?

Ray’s only consolation was that Maya was struggling too, and she’d been at this much longer than he had. At least she could move water. Fire would not listen to Ray.

Wu left his cup on the patio for a moment and stepped toward them. He set a water bucket down right before Maya - where had that come from? - and said, “Maya, remember what we’ve talked about. Flow. Move with the water, like the water.”

Maya nodded and faced Ray with an unreadable expression. From what Ray could gather, Maya was a private person, which meant that was about as much as Ray could gather. What little else he knew? A) she was pretty, b) she was smart, c) her presence at the monastery was about getting out from under her parents’ thumbs, and d) the two of them were alike like that. But unlike him, she’d been training with Wu for years.

“Ray,” Wu said, and Ray tried not to treat it like a rude interruption of his thoughts. “Your powers are being stubborn. But fire is not stubborn. It leaps out, eager to consume all it touches. Harness that feeling.”

“Let’s just do it.” Ray closed his eyes as he’d watched Maya do.

He tried. For many long moments, he tried. The mountain wind mussed his hair. He could hear the water in Maya’s bucket swishing. The good thing about Maya, he had to admit, was that she never rubbed anything in his face. Not even this.

No. Don’t think about the water. Just fire. Fire.

For a moment, Ray thought he’d found it. It was there, a word on the tip of his tongue, Serpentine sand slipping through fingers. Just - a moment - longer -

Ray growled with frustration and forced his eyes open. Maya was scowling at her bucket. The swishing was just the wind playing with it.

Ray kicked over the bucket.

“Hey!” Maya’s gaze shot up. Water spilled over the stones, darkening them.

“This is taking too much time!” Ray protested. He turned toward Wu for a moment, who looked concerned. “The Serpentine are out there and we’re here - doing this!”

When Wu said nothing, Ray fisted his hand and strode toward the monastery doors. “I’m just no good at this. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Ray,” Maya called.

Ray did not reply.

“Ray!” Maya bellowed.

Ray spun around, meaning to bellow back, but he pulled up short. Just between him and Maya, a small ribbon of red light flickered in the air. No, not light. Flame, disembodied from either candle or torch.

Ray stepped forward, circling the hovering flame but not touching it. “How -”

“You weren’t trying so hard,” Maya said. “Maybe that has something to do with it.”

He fumed. “So don’t try. How am I supposed to focus by not focusing?”

Then Wu stepped forward from his long silence on the patio. His expression hadn’t changed, still drawn and serious, but it seemed lighter somehow. He stopped between them, just shy of the fire.

“I believe we need to switch teachings,” he said finally. “Maya.” He tapped her shoulder with his staff. “You must be fierce. After all, a tsunami is the fiercest force in all nature. Ray.” Wu let his fingers curl around the floating flame. “You must flow. Let go. Fire can flow, and even become something beautiful.”

He gathered the spark above his palm and tossed it like he was tossing a ball. Ray caught it by reflex. It twirled over his fingers once before vanishing.

Ray opened his mouth to ask a question, but suddenly Wu stiffened, like he’d been struck. His gaze fixed on something over Ray’s head. Ray turned, squinting into the cloudy sky. Then he saw it. Up high, something was darkening a piece of the sun.

“Is that -” Maya started.

But Wu was already moving toward the red monastery doors. Ray exchanged a look with Maya, and rushed after him.

The dragon landed in the rocks outside the walls. Ray could tell immediately it was an Elemental dragon akin to the golden one Wu could create. Smoke rolled off its dark wings. It was grey, with cracks like white lava splitting its scales. Green frills sprouted around its neck.

As soon as the rider slipped to the ground, the dragon vanished in a whirl of grey smoke. The woman scrambled over the rocks, urgency in every movement.

“Wu,” the woman said when she reached the stairs. “They’ve done it. They’ve broken the line along the Sea of Sand.”

Wu took her arm as she nearly slipped on the stone stairs. “Their movements?”

“North. No Anacondrai yet, but they will soon follow.”

“They will try to break through the Echo Canyons. If we could hold them there…” Wu trailed off as he noticed Ray and Maya standing in the great doorway. The woman noticed them too. She wore purple robes, all cheekbones and dark hair. She pressed her pink lips together as she considered them alongside Wu. Ray was surprised that she looked about his age. But seeing as twenty-something Wu was actually a hundred years old or older, Ray didn’t trust his eyes much.

“Lei,” Wu said. “These are the young Masters of Water and Fire. Ray, Maya, this is Lei, the Master of Shadow.”

“That’s not an element,” Ray said.

Lei sniffed. “Don’t get haughty because yours is an Element of creation, Master of Fire. Wu, we need to move.”

Ray’s heart began racing. For these many months, Wu had apprised them of the situation. Small battles raged across the Sea of Sand. The Elemental Masters had erected a defensive line from Primeval’s Eye to the southern tip of the Echo Canyons. But there was only so much nine Elemental Masters could do against the armies of the Serpentine. That they had held out this long was incredible. But if the line was broken…

He realized Wu was frowning at him. Ray got the feeling that the guy knew exactly what was going through Ray’s head and he didn’t like it.

“You’re not ready, Ray,” Wu said.

“All due respect, Wu,” Lei interjected. “But it doesn’t matter if they’re ready or not. We need everyone.”

All was silent for a moment. Wu tapped his foot angrily.

“Tell the Elemental Masters to fall back to the Echo Canyons,” he said finally. “I will send these two with you to guard Jamanakai Village. Can your dragon carry them?”

Lei’s face seemed to fall a little but she nodded.

“Good.” Wu surveyed the three of them. “Come. Let’s get our friend some food, and then we’ll talk.”

~~~

The good thing about having nothing was that there was very little to pack. Ray stuffed a sleeping roll in his bag, along with an extra pair of underclothes and robes. The robes were the red ones Wu had given him upon arrival, the robes of a Master of Fire. Using the monastery forge, Ray had crafted an armored chest plate and pauldrons to go with them. But after he’d finished, staring at the dragon head engraved in metal and the red robes laid across his bed, Ray couldn’t bring himself to put them on. He didn’t feel worthy of them, not yet.

Maybe, at Jamanakai, he would.

Ray stepped out of his room. Maya was moving about in her quarters, just down the hall. For the first time, the door was thrown wide open. Ray slipped his bag over his shoulder and strode to the open doorway. Leaning against the frame, he watched Maya sit on her floor, her legs folded beneath her as she closed her bag.

Her room was cleaner than his, even though she had collected more things from her years at the monastery. A few seashells and stones sat neatly on a bedside shelf. Her screen window was open to the red-leafed trees that clung to the mountainside.

“He’s right,” Maya said, without looking up. “We’re not ready.”

“You’re telling me.” Ray knocked his head against the frame and let his eyes wander to the window. He started to say something but nothing came out.

Maya climbed to her feet. “You’re a good warrior, Ray. You’ve learned a lot in such limited time. Even without your powers, you’ll be okay.”

This was the most that Maya had ever said to him in one setting, and the nicest thing he’d heard come out of her mouth. Ray stared at her. “But my powers.”

“There’s something called true potential.” Maya hugged her bag. “Master Wu told me about it. When you reach your true potential, its supposed to help you unlock the full extent of your powers.”

True potential. “When?”

Maya shrugged. “If I knew, I’d tell you. I haven’t found mine yet. That’s why I can’t control water like I should.” She paused, hesitating. “I...procrastinated training all these years. Focused on weapons. Wu let me, but I don’t think he will any longer.”

Ray’s heart fell. If in years of training Maya hadn’t found her true potential, what hope did Ray have? “So I might never reach it.”

“I didn’t say that,” Maya replied.

“Didn’t you?”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Ray’s heart thumped unexpectedly, even as his frustration cooled. They always seemed so ready to argue - or rather, he did, but he wasn’t sure how to stop himself.

Maya looked away, taking her bag by the straps. “See you out there.”

She shoved past him into the hallway. Ray remained for a moment. He released a sound of frustration before pushing himself off the doorframe.

He paused as he passed the forge on the way back out. It was cold most days. Unless you counted Ray, it had been a long time since the monastery had a proper blacksmith. But it was in the forge that Ray felt the most like the proclaimed Master of Fire - surrounded by flames he could manipulate, by heat he was able to withstand when no one else could.

Ray stared at the hearth for a moment. Then he continued on to the courtyard, and Lei, and the war.

@greenygreenland

[sorry-apsalar]

See You in a Bit Chapter 1/4: I’ll Be Fine

On my Frender Drabbles Fic on Ao3, I finally got a request, it ended up being  much more than a drabble though, 4 chapters long in fact. The request was:  “Can you do Bender getting himself killed to save Fry?” So...

Content Warning for Major Character Death.

~

In hindsight perhaps Fry should’ve predicted that going on a mission without Leela was a dumb idea. But he’d been so excited by the thought of it just being just himself and Bender for once, like a date but not because they were working. Also, it had been a chance to prove that he was a competent pilot and capable of being in charge of a delivery mission. He’d even promised Professor Farnsworth and Hermes when they’d expressed doubts that he’d partake in no funny business; he’d just fly to the destination, deliver the package and go home. He’d done his best and truly had intended to keep that promise, even going so far as to say ‘no’ to Bender when he’d suggested they go off on a joyride with the ship before going to deliver the package. But alas, no matter his intentions, doing his best wasn’t good enough.

This was far from the first time he’d been arrested and imprisoned for unknowingly and/or accidentally breaking the law on an alien planet but it was without a doubt one of the more painful and scary instances. They’d beaten him black and blue, thrown him in a rusty jail cell and told him he was going to be publicly executed as soon as they had everything for it was ready. They’d lacked the decency to tell him anything about how long that would take.

Despite that looming over him, he’d managed to get some sleep – more like succumbed to unconsciousness – but not enough to make him feel even mildly rested. And now that he was awake everything hurt too much to let him drift off again. They hadn’t even bothered to take off his manacles off; a bit too tight, they chafed painfully against his wrists. His left forearm was broken and hurt worst of all which was saying something because he’d taken quite the beating and hurt all over as a result. At least his nose and mouth were no longer bleeding, right? Not that that made any of this much better. There wasn’t anything he could do about any of it except lie there, staring through the cage bars at the sandstone wall on the other side, and try not to move too much. 

If Leela had been here she would’ve been the one who’d volunteered to deliver the package to the Monarch since only one person was allowed in to see them at a time. And she would’ve been smart enough to not mistake them for a potted plant and then piss on them. In hindsight, that was pretty obvious; they were plant aliens living in a desert, what would a random potted plant be doing in a room he’d been pointed to as if it were the throne room? He’d really had to go though. And now, it was looking like he was going to die for it.

Ugh, he was such a dumbass. After all the years he’d had this job, one would think he’d eventually learn to be more careful in general, especially on alien planets, but nope. If he somehow got out of this alive, he was going to…

“Psst, Fry.”

“Bender?” Fry gingerly pushed himself up and looked all around the now suddenly darker room. It was empty. …

“Up here.”

There was a small barred window on the rear wall of his cell, up out of reach and the only source of light in the room; Bender’s face was now blocking it.

“I’m so glad to see you!” Fry was almost always glad to see him but never had he been gladder. “I was starting to think they were really going to execute me.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t let them do that. It just took a while to find you because I had to be sneaky about it after they kicked me out and told me to never come back or they’d kill me. Whatever you did really pissed them off, so it better have been something good enough to warrant all this trouble. If it’s because you got caught trying to steal something valuable, I’m proud of you for trying but disappointed in you for failing so miserably after having me as a role model all these years.”

If only it had been that, it would’ve been less embarrassing. “Uh… I’ll tell you about it later.” He wasn’t in the mood to be laughed at and had more important things to think about like… “How are you going to get me out of here?” Even if Bender removed the bars from the window completely, there was no possible way Fry could fit through even if he could reach it.

“Here.” Bender extended an arm through the bars towards him. In his hand was an old-fashioned metal keyring with two keys jingling on it. “I pickpocketed them off the security guard while they were ‘escorting’ me out after they were done dealing with you. If they don’t work I guess I’ll have to break you out the old fashioned way.”

Fry carefully grabbed them and with a little bit of effort managed to get the small key into the lock on his manacles. Thankfully it not only fit but also turned. Freeing himself of them completely hurt, especially his broken forearm, and revealed just how horribly chafed his poor wrists had become in the hours he’d been locked in them, but it was a relief to be free of their weight at last. Next, he tried the big key in the cell door and again, it worked.

“Thank you!” He turned to look at Bender again. “You’re the best.”

“Yep, I know!” Bender grinned smugly.

“How am I going to get past the guards though? There are some like right outside the door I think.” Fry couldn’t fight them at his best, but bruised, tired and with a broken arm, he stood a negative chance.

“Let me take care of them. I’ve scoped the place out, they got a lot of guards but a big enough commotion should draw most, if not all of them away. Give me like five minutes and you’ll be free to just walk out.”

“Uh… all right, wait a bit and then leave, got it. You going to be okay though? There are a lot of them and they’re pretty scary.” They’d certainly beaten up Fry real good and it hadn’t seemed to tax them much if at all.

Bender scoffed. “They’re plants, how tough can they be? I’ll be fine, I’m not some fragile meatbag like you. You owe me for busting you out though. The next ten dates or so are all on you, got it?”

“Yep, totally fine with me.”

“Cool. I’ll met up with you back on the ship in like… an hour probably. Have it ready to fly before I get there in case I bring company.”

“Okay! Love you and good luck.”

“Eh, back at you meatbag, see you in a bit.” With that Bender pulled away from the window, allowing the moonlight to shine in uninterrupted once more.

The next few minutes were torture. Waiting wasn’t pleasant even at the best of times which this was far from. There was no way to know what was going on with Bender or immediately outside the door and Fry desperately wanted out in general, making time crawl by. There wasn’t even anyway to know how long it had been since Bender had left, one minute, five, more? But at long last, just when Fry was sure he was going to be driven mad by all the waiting, there was a muffled commotion on the other side of the door followed by silence.

He waited a bit longer before venturing over to press his ear to it. … Nothing. So, taking a deep breath, he cracked open the door – thankfully it wasn’t locked – and peeked through the gap at the other side. A mid-sized room with a large table in the center; chairs surrounded it and the abandoned remnants of some kind of boardgame were splayed out on top. No guards though and the exit door hung open. Fry was free to go.

Holding his injured arm close, he made sure to pull the jail door closed behind and to disturb nothing as he headed for the open door. On the other side was an empty hallway. Having been dragged here half unconscious, he didn’t exactly know the way back out so… he went left just because.

By some miracle, he managed to stumble his way through only four or five hallways – all empty by some other benign power – before happening upon the entrance hall. He wasted no time making a break for it, going as fast as he dared when each jostle sent a bolt of pain through his broken arm.

He paused as he stepped outside. The air reeked heavily of smoke and more of those weird plant people were hurrying by on their weird creepy root feet. Presumably they were headed to help put out the fire, judging based off the buckets they carried. Thankfully if they even noticed Fry at all, they paid him no mind.

Pulling a bit further away from the palace entrance gave him the room to look back and spot the source of smoke. One entire side of the palace and several of the buildings next to it were on fire, the flames big enough to light up the night and silhouette the folks bustling around, trying to put it out. Yep, that was a pretty big commotion all right and would require everyone available to put it out before it spread too far. … With a grimace, Fry quickly moved on. Hopefully the damage it caused wouldn’t be too terribly bad and no one would be severely injured by it.

He encountered a few more plant people on his way out of the city but thankfully they were all too busy running to deal with the fire to notice his retreat. Once finally outside the city walls, the air was clearer, making it easier to breath. He wasn’t quite home free yet, but he was close. All he had to do was head for the ship, hidden amongst the sand dunes not far from here, and he’d be good to go. Hopefully Bender would be joining him there shortly because he was so done with this particular adventure.

Next

[yamithediaperdork]

Midnight Stroll (Soul eater)

Midnight stroll

It was a bright star and moon filled night out, something that a certain weapon wasn't all that happy with as he made his way toward the park in death city. When he'd originally planned this all out it had been with the understanding of a cloudy night to help him hide a little better and now that plan had gone to hell. Of course the fact he was even going to enact his plan outside meant that our hero wanted to be seen but still. who's our hero and whats the plan you may be asking? The Hero of course was Soul, weapon extorinair and always hungry for well, souls.And his plan was to engage in his bi monthly diaper waddle of shame. You see Soul wasn't like most boys his age who were off chasing girls and being all manly. his idea of a ideal date would be getting spanked silly, diapered and teased till he pooped himself and then being put to bed in a crib without a diaper change.  As you might expect, this made his dating options slim to none so he just handled his babying himself. Granted there had been a close call or two when his roommate Black Star had walked in while he was diapered but Soul had manged to get under his blankets before being seen.

It was that close call that had soul decide to take his diaper games public, though he really only went out around midnight, and only did a quick little walk (or waddle if you prefer) in a area where not many people were up/knew him. before he had done massive diapers under shorts, and a diaper and t-shirt but tonight's main event so to speak would be his most daring outfit yet, and this time he wasn't going to carry his big boy clothes in a back pack with him. This time he was going to leave them in the public bathroom at the park so he'd have no real way of wussing out and hiding in a alley, scrambling to get pants on over his diapers. Just the thought of how MUCH of a big dumb stupid baby he was going to be had him almost skipping as he made his way into the park and made a B line for the bathrooms.

In the bathroom stall Soul paused and caught his breath, mentally psyching himself up for what he was going to do  There was no two ways about it, while the THOUGHT of what he was going to do had him rock hard and squirming like crazy as he leaked into his Garfield briefs, he KNEW just how bad this could be if he was caught. Just picturing Maka or Death or really ANY of his friends finding out what a big baby he was had him whimpering even if he was totally ready to have a 'accident' if he kept it up. Still, he hadn't blown a ton of money to order these items in and NOT use them, and nothing ventured nothing gained. or some bullshit like that. In any case, he started to strip.

Walking out of the bathroom with a waddle in his step, Soul was crimson faced but grinning like a fool as he checked out his reflection in the mirror. looking back at him was a young man, in thick massive nursery print diapers that forced his legs apart and would be more then up for the challenge of holding ANY messes the so called big boy could make. On his feet gone were the sneakers and instead was a pair of white baby booties in his size with little silver stars decorating them. His scrawny chest was covered with a plastic bib, white with a silver trim and in silver letters proclaimed soul to be a 'messy eater.' In his mouth bobbing in and out, and attached to a string around Soul's neck was a white and silver Pacifier, with a extra large nipple on it so his whole mouth was filled and it was already making him drool like the big baby he was. the final piece of his new look was a oversized white and silver baby bonnet to A) help him look even more silly and B) help help his identity. 'You, are SUCH a baby!' he thought to himself, squirming and crinkling as he wiggled his hips. Giggling like crazy he waddled back over to the stall and zipped up the book bag with all his big boy stuff in it and hung it on the inside door hook, the closed the stalls from the outside. Sure anyone who pushed on the door would see no one was in there buttt it wasn't like the place was exactly hopping with a bunch of people so Soul was sure it would be ok.

the first few steps into the wide open area of the park was the most nerve wracking, there was NO where to dodge and try and hide once he walked more then five steps away from the bathroom and Soul felt like at any second everyone and their uncle was going to pop outta nowhere and point and laugh at him. 'Mental note..next time toke up first.' he thought, squirming and his belly full of butterflies as he waddle over toward the play structure. Plopping his butt down in one of the swings (and barley fitting) he looked over at the baby seat swing with want in his eyes but if his fat diaper butt could barely fit in a normal swing, they'd have to call someone to cut him free out of one of those. Swinging back and forth a little he closed his eyes and pretended that it was the middle of the day, and a group of kids were all gathered around pointing and laughing at him. 'oh nooo! they're all being sooo mean to widdle meee! where my mommy and da-' Soul was thinking , but with his eyes closed and getting carried away he didn't notice that the slick plastic of his diapers had been sliding on the seat and suddenly he fell off the back of the swing. '...owwwwww..' he whined mentally, looking up at the sky. Since clearly swings and his diapers were going to work out on this fine evening, Soul after picking himself up moved on towards the slide. Climbing on the metal ladder with it being somewhat narrow and his diaper so bulky was a little trickier then he'd thought it would be and his foot slipped more then once as he made his way up. 'I swear, if I hurt myself AGAIN on playground equipment I'm just gonna bring a bucket and sand shovel next time and play in the sand box.' Soul thought dryly. the fact that he was apparently too much of a baby to use this stuff meant for little kids though DID make him feel nice and babyish and he was all grins as he got to the top of the slide and started to come down..At least till the static cling and the bulk of the diaper and the smallish sides of the slide meant while he didn't get stuck, he got one hell of a diaper wedgie. 'Anddd I think I'm done with the playground.' Soul thought sheepishly, trying to pick his diapers out of his ass crack.

The next part of his little planned fun was a little bit more risky then just playing on the playground. the playground had been close enough to the bathroom that he could of dashed back in as needed, but now as he tapped his chin and looked in different direction, he was going to go and walk for a block in the city on one of those directions. He wasn't too worried about being jumped or attack since well, diapers or no diapers he was a fucking weapon, but still people seeing him, pointing and laughing, maybe even taking pictures.... It was everything he dreaded and everything he wanted and it didn't take long for any common sense to be drowned out and he picked the southern route, meaning a good 6 minutes of waddling just in the park before even hitting the streets. His nipples stiff under his baby bib, Soul took one last look back at the park, then waddled out into the city.

as fate would have it, the path that Soul took actually went by a new all night gay bar, something he didn't realize till he turned a corner and there was a group of 5 well muscled men out having a smoke. The sight made him freeze in his tracks which was bad because he was under a street lamp at the time and while he to unfreeze and back track, he got noticed. "What the hell.." Came a drunken voice. "Oh my god! Tell me I'm actually seeing this and it's not just the phantom blast shots I've been pounding!" "Pffftt..it's a little diaper boy!" "You lost little boy? come sit with uncle." Anther one called and patted his lap. "Heh, think they'd wipe our bar tab clean if we brought him inside?" The last one asked. Soul's paci was moving in and out of his mouth BIG time now as he unfroze, but was squirming like crazy as a deep red blush covered his face. the men got up and started to walk over, smirking, smiling and one of them was pulling his cell phone out! "A-Ah! N-No pictures please!" Soul squeaked out, letting the paci fall out of his mouth and trying to cover his face. "heh..Cutie offer cutie. turn around and wiggle that cute butt of yours for us and there will be no FACE pictures." Cell phone said. A huge whine came out of soul, but he had to admit this was exactly that kind of attention he had humped stuffies into oblivion thinking about. It wasn't like he was going to be able to outrun the guys even if they were clearly wasted with the massive diaper between his legs and he briefly thought about maybe just switching to pull ups for next time so he could take off easier if this sorta thing happened again. Banishing THAT thought from his mind he did a half turn so his pampered butt was facing the drunks and then he started to shake it back and forth and getting into it, reached back and slapped it a couple of times. "Oh, somebodies a naughty baby huh? Does your daddy and mommy know where you are?" "hehehe Nope~! And.." Soul paused, the attention and the feeling of all of this short circuiting any restraint. "And it's just my daddy. We live together but he doesn't know what a dumb diaper bitch I am and How much I love being a pamper filling humiliation junkie~" "..well I'm hard." came a voice he recognized as cell phones. Soul giggled and wagged a finger back and forth. "ah ah ah, Sorry Uncles..This diaper boy is a official virgin for life so I can't help you with that! No sex for me ever, just poopie diapers and lots of teasing!" Soul giggled, then swatted his butt again and rubbed the front of his diapers. "Oh man.. no one is ever going to believe this..even with the pictures." "I'm seeing it with my own two eyes and -I- can't." Soul giggled again but then his tummy gurgled and grumbled, apparently his greasy supper wanted to make a appearance. "..wait..is he going to.." One of the guys asked. Not having to look at them, Soul found himself more daring then ever and popped a squat, rubbing his tummy. "Ohhh nooo! the big dumb BABY has to go boom boom!" he whined in babyish tone, and dared a look over his shoulder. and then paled. the original five had turned into 15 men watching him and smirking and suddenly the idea of loading his diapers in front of such a big crowd didn't seem like such a good idea. "A-Ah on second thought.." He squeaked. "Aww come on, don't be a cock tease! you promised us a show!" a guy wearing a bandana and sunglasses at night protested. "I..But..This is too many..and.." Soul whined and squirmed, his guts churning and a muffled fart coming out of him. "...Ok guys we're scaring the baby. phones away, no one record little soul's accident." Came the voice of one of the original five and Soul relaxed for a second..then turned around, letting out a massive poot and eyes wide. "W-Wait you know m-my name!?!" He practically shrieked. "uh..Yeah. wasssss I not suppose to? you're kinda famous in town." the guy said rubbing the back of his head. "..I'm going to run away now." Soul said, voice going faint. He made it all of five steps in his effort to get away, over the protest of his crowd of 'fans' when he was forced to hunch over and pop a squat again. Those who watched the show would later on agree while the visual effect of watching a deadly weapon helplessly blort out his diaper so it was sagging and discolored was hawt..they could of done without the smell. Still when Soul had dropped to his knees and pounded a fist on the street, while crying out that he was making cum cums, that helped them put up with the stink.

The waddle back to the park took much longer, though with the heavy load in his diaper making him waddle worse then before and his legs weak from the force of his orgasm it wasn't that shocking. Several times he had to pause and rest against a lamppost, and just suck on his paci, having semi orgasmic after shocks as he thought about what he had just done. 'Well, Ones thing for sure. that's to sure fuel my stuffie humping for at least half a year.' He thought and giggled a little. Finally making his way back to the bathroom, and having to wave away flies now, soul had let the paci fall from his mouth as he was holding his nose. "guh, I'm fucking rotten. no more greasy joeys fried chili-dogs for me." He muttered softly and spotted his stall. and froze. because it was wide open. "Ohhh no. no no no.." Soul said, gulping and a shaky smile on his face. "M-My Book bag is GOING to be there. it's going to be there. it's going to be there." it became a mantra as he took one step at a time, a feeling of weakness washing over him. "it's going to be there. it's..it's.." Soul mewed as he made it and looked, tears welling up in his eyes. "It's..Not here..But..my house key was in there...I..I have to waddle home..In..In a poopie diaper..and..And get Black star to let me in.." the big baby went silent as it sunk in and then feel to his knees crying out and sobbing even as a second powerful orgasm wracked though his body.

Black star was less then pleased as the doorbell wouldn't stop. he'd had more then a few drinks before going to bed and shouted for soul to get the fucking door, but of course the white haired bastard was ignoring him. 'I swear..after I answer the door if he's still asleep it's hand in warm water time.' Black thought. in just his white boxers with little black stars all over it (Yes, he was THAT vain) he made his way down to the front door. Modesty wasn't really a big thing for him and to be fair with how late it was fuck whoever was knocking on the door and ringing the door bell, they could see him in his undies. Not bothering to use the peephole first to see who it was, Black Star just opened the door and started to snarl. "What do you fucking..want..Uh..soul?" he roared, then went from a pissed off face, to a confused one, then smirking. "Oh. My. God." Soul whined and blushed, squirming back and forth. "C-Can you just move and let me in already?" the big baby whined. "Bwhahahaha! I knew it! Maka and everyone else said I was crazy But I fucking knew it! I know that was a diaper I saw you in the other day!" Black star crowed, then paused and wrinkled his nose. "wait..is that smell coming from you?" "N-No! I mean..yes, but uh..I just..stepped in some dog crap! yeah! that's it an-" Soul tried to say, but Black star not only tugged him into the house, but turned him around and planted his palm on the massive mess in the back of soul's diapered, making the big babies eyes roll in his head. "You did! you totally fudged yourself! Oh man!" Black star laughed, and then kept patting the poor weapons droopy pampers. "I think we need to have a nice long talk about how things are going to change around here, don't you?" Black Star asked and smirked. "I..I Uh..Ohh.." the weapon mewed and spread his legs to allow Star a easier time of smushing his mush tush. "though first and foremost, the first thing that needs to be changed is your stinky diaper butt..little boy." Black star said and then kissed soul's cheek. As his third orgasm in under a hour wracked his body, soul couldn't help but think that maybe he should of just stayed in tonight and streamed a movie.

The end

[jackk-attackk]

Renovating the orchard: part three!

I spent a lot of time today working on the barn/farm area again! The trees are growing in nicely, and the ones I didn’t chop down and replant have fruit already (due to a little bit of me being impatient and time travelling) I was showing the whole thing to my mom and she came up with the idea of using another pair of stalls and simple panels to make a hayloft up at the top of the barn, which I really love!!! It’s just too high for me to get a decent picture of, with the location and everything, but I’m going to keep trying.

(you can kind of see it a little better here, along with the brand-new wind turbines on the rock jetty!!!)

I replaced the log lounge roof with solar panels, and I like that a lot better. I also made a custom design to put on the simple panels that make up the main-level “walls” of the barn, to better match the design I made for the doors. I found some log benches, seeds, saplings, and a few other random things in my inventory, balloons, and other places on the island that I’m redoing, and incorporated them around. I also set the turnips that I bought this week out, rather than keeping them in my inventory!

You can see that I had to move the whole cliff out further to accomodate the solar panels (and then the extra simple panels, too, anyways), so I had to redo the path, but I think it still looks good this way! (I redid the orchard path as well, but I’m not going to do any pictures of that until I have a sunny day and all of the trees have fruit!) I also got the garden faucet in, but completely forgot to take any pictures of where I put it oops—

Overall, I’m really happy with how this area is coming together! I think the whole thing has a really cute look, especially in the early morning light like it is here. There’s still some work that needs to be done, and I’m sure I’ll be fiddling with details for a while before I’m really happy with it! I still want to do some more patches of gardening in the gap between the fences and pumpkin patches, but still haven’t decided what to put there, so it’s going to wait for now. Since I’m from Pennsylvania, I’d really like to try and figure out a way to put a hex sign (or something that looks like one) on the barn, since pretty much every barn I’ve ever seen in my life has had a hex sign on it, but I’m not sure if there’s a way to do that. I wish you could hang wall items on simple panels, but I don’t think that’s possible, so I’ll just have to figure something else out!

Dated: 12/27/2020

Items used and how I built the barn under the cut:

Bamboo basket (1)

Bamboo shoots

Flower seeds

Hand cart (1)

Hand cart (1)

Hay bed (2)

Hose reel (1)

Log bench (2)

Metal can (1)

Pumpkin starts (24)

Sapling

Silo (1)

Simple DIY workbench (1)

Simple panel (8 total; 4 for doors, 4 for walls) customized with custom designs

Solar panel (2) OR log garden lounge (6)

Spiky fence (10 I think?)

Spooky scarecrow (1)

Stall (5 total) customized with dark wood

Tin bucket (1)

Turnips

Wind turbine (2)

Wooden barrel (2)

Wooden toolbox (1)

Garden faucet (1; not pictured)

Paths used:

Dark dirt path

Light dirt path

Barn construction: (inspired by @poppypier )

Build a 3x6 cliff. You need at least one space on one side and two on the other (between drop off to sand, cliffs, etc.) to fit a stall and silo respectively. You’ll also want to make a little extra space on the cliff for you to stand on to place items, so building it 4x6 to start isn’t a bad idea.

Lay a custom wood pattern on the ground on top of the cliff (this is just to make it so you don’t see the grass under the solar panels/garden lounges) over the 3x6 space you’re planning to use. I used a custom design pattern instead of the wooden path option so I wouldn’t have grass showing at the edges of the cliff, but it’s up to you what you use!

Place two stalls in the center, rooves sloping towards the outside, not towards each other. I recommend doing this first, as they’re a lot harder to place/move with the solar panels in place. Put two simple panels with a barn door design in front of the stalls (If you don’t want the upper story to have doors, just use whatever pattern you’re using for the walls on these panels!).

Put one solar panel on either side of the stalls, sloping the same way as the stall rooves. If you prefer, you can use three log lounges on either side for a lower wooden roof.

Demolish any extra cliff segments you constructed to start. Pave the area under the barn with the dark dirt path (or whatever other path/pattern you want).

Place two stalls in the middle of the cliffs, the same way you set up the two on top of the cliffs, and place two simple panels with a door pattern in front of them. (You could also offset these doors if you wanted, rather than putting them in the middle, but I like having them there because of the hayloft above them.)

Place two simple panels with a wall design up against the cliff face on either side of the stalls on the ground.

Put the last stall on one side of the cliffs and the silo on the other. You could also replace the silo with a sixth stall, if you prefer.

Decorate! I used log benches, a hay bed, some plants and seeds, a barrel, a bamboo basket, a DIY workbench, and more to decorate, but you can use whatever you want! Change up the colors, move the components around, shift the front doors to make them look open: use your imagination! You can put things on the stalls, too—especially any off to the sides, since you can’t really see the ones in front or get to the ones up top) for extra details or even storage! Add fences, fields, gardens, toy animals, tools, or whatever else you want to really get the farm vibes going.

Happy crafting!!!

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 15 - Forge

Hiccup has a new idea: flying UNDER a dragon. This needs a new harness. It also needs Gobber to know when to stop talking. Toothcup all but outright stated. (1722 words)

cw: Toothcup, sexual references (nothing explicit)

Hiccup looked at the night fury sprawled out on his floor, then back at the sketch he was working on. It showed Toothless, but with the addition of a new harness, sketched out to allow Hiccup to strap himself in underneath the dragon. It was an idea Hiccup had come up with after a long night of playing with Toothless and waking up in his scaly embrace, though what originally started as merely a few straps to keep him slung under his partner soon got the Hiccup Touch and bloomed into a full harness, designed to keep dragon and rider comfortable in a few different orientations, and even lock Hiccup in for Toothless to go flying with him. Hiccup sat back and appreciated his efforts; he had improved a lot since that very first saddle he had slipped onto Toothless so long ago.

"Alright, bud, what do you think of this?" He turned the paper towards Toothless, who rolled back onto his feet and plodded over. The night fury stared at his creation, occasionally turning his head to look at Hiccup or lifting a leg or wing to match himself against the drawing. After a minute or two, he thumped his tail on the floor, turned, and walked over to Hiccup's flight suit before pressing his snout against it and burbling.

Hiccup snapped his fingers and grinned brightly, scribbling a few more shapes on the plan. "Quick-release clasps to let me drop away and glide, great idea, Toothless." He tapped the end of his charcoal pencil to his mouth, searching for flaws they would introduce, but came up short. A good sign. "Oh, but I'll have to switch to your back after we use that; I don't think I'll be able to get back into the straps mid-air," he pointed out, then grinned and walked over to his dragon to scratch under his chin. "And I don't think this design supports a saddle. You don't mind me riding you bareback, do you, bud?" Toothless growled affectionately and nuzzled the human, pushing him back a bit.

Hiccup took a few steps backward, laughing, and picked up a measuring string. "That's what I thought. Alright, let's find out how big these things have to be. Could you rear back, bud?"

Toothless pushed back off his front legs, flapping his wings to stay steady. Hiccup walked up, string in hand, and pressed it against his scaly chest, then belly, taking note of how long each segment was. As he moved from one position to the next, he started to keep his hands on Toothless, enjoying the dragon's natural warmth and the pleasant texture of his scales. This drew out a low purr from the night fury, who placed his forepaws on Hiccup's shoulders. "Uh, Toothless? What are you doing?" the viking asked, only to be pushed down, a heavy dragon landing over him. Toothless felt him wince under his scaly body, and made sure to only lightly rest his belly on Hiccup's back, purring from the friendly contact. Hiccup laughed. "Oh, prototyping a use of the harness already, huh, bud?" Toothless growled in the affirmative, which got him a very pleasant rub from his rider. "Alright, then, but we're finishing up as soon as we're done with this."

Hiccup did finish the measurements after they were done. What he didn't count on, however, was the few hours between Toothless initiating and Hiccup getting his specs. They both fell into a satisfied, restful sleep at the end of the night, Hiccup in Toothless's hold, like when they fell into the demise of the Red Death.

---

"Mornin', Hiccup!" Gobber called into the forge, "yer up early. Oh, hello Toothless. Helped him start the fire, did ye?" He got a happy burble in response.

"Hey, Gobber," Hiccup called back, a little less enthusiastic. He had been hoping to be in and out before the experienced smith came in. Unfortunately, after an incident with a Deadly Nadder, two Gronkles, and Hookfang a week back, a lot of the pre-made inventory had become slag, at best. "I just figured I'd... help with the restocking a little!" Hiccup lied, "plus, there's just nothing like hammering a metal ring into place to work out some tension, am I right?"

The older viking waddled up to the workbench and eyed the work Hiccup had done. "No, ye didn't," he said bluntly, "and that means you have a project! Now come on, let ol' Gobber see what yer up tae."

There was a soft 'whoomf' from the furnace as Toothless reached in and stoked the fire some more. Hiccup sighed, and passed him the sketch from last night. "It's a harness for riding Toothless," he explained as his hammer fell on the softened metal, "it'll let me drop in my flight suit without having me jump off his back or Toothless invert." The young viking held the piece of metal he was working on up in his tongs, nodded, tapped a few more times, and then quenched it. "It uses my standard dual-controlled tailfin design to let Toothless fly along with me without risking losing control if my flight suit doesn't work quite right." Another batch of molten metal was poured into a mold.

Gobber picked up the design, turned it around a little, then put it back down. "And I notice you've put several places for the leg braces and stirrups," he mentioned.

Hiccup tensed. "Yeah, it's for... it lets me easily disengage and reengage if Toothless and I want him to steer solo for a while."

"Mm." The older blacksmith was not impressed. "And the one on the other side?"

"Uhh... for dropping off into a dive more easily?"

"Hiccup." Gobber took him by the shoulders and turned the young man to face him. "I'm not stupid. This isn't just for having fun with your flight suit, is it?"

Hiccup shook his head. Gobber picked up one of the finished pieces of metal, to be used to support the viking, and turned it over in his hands. "Well, for starters, you'll want two of these. One of them nice and sturdy, for flying over water in your flight suit, and the other to cover in something much more comfortable. Probably goat down. Ye won't get as haunted that way."

Hiccup gawked at him; Gobber shrugged. "Ye act like yer the first boy t'ever go through puberty. You should see what I made way back when I was a wee lad. Took me two days to assemble." He cringed and stared off at the memory, muttering, "nearly clean tore off me-"

"OKAY that's enough," Hiccup loudly interrupted, "that's... that's okay, I don't think I need to know that. Ever. Wow. Um..." he rambled, running his hand through his hair, "so, I think I'll just get one design done today and go flying with Toothless." He picked up the latest cooling metal and started to work it into shape.

The blacksmith laughed and clapped him on the back. Hiccup managed to keep a solid grip on the metal and also not burn himself on it, a skill he picked up during his years working with Gobber. "Well, good luck with yer 'project.' Before you two leave, could ye get Toothless to light up the rest o' the furnaces? We lost a lot of good axeheads and knives last week."

Hiccup looked over to Toothless, who was staring at a trio of Terrible Terrors across the street. "You okay with that, bud? Mind starting up the rest of the furnaces for Gobber?" he asked. The night fury turned towards him, nodded and rumbled, and then got up to spit a shot of plasma into each cold furnace as Gobber walked over to start melting down some buckets of metal in them. Hiccup finished shaping and cooling the last piece for the harness's basic configuration, then set the tools down to start sanding the metal. "So, uh, goat down?"

"Aye, goat down. Wool can be soft, but boy does it itch! And so hot, too; you should have seen the SIZE of the rash I got when I-"

"THANK YOU, Gobber, thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Hiccup said as he desperately tried to forget what Gobber had just said. "Do you do that on purpose?"

In between the clangs of Gobber's hammer-hand on metal, his laughter was clearly audible. "Ah, Hiccup, yer some o' the most fun I have around the smithy some days." This earned a groan from the dragon rider.

Once Hiccup had finished the metalwork, he and Toothless left the forge, confident that the leatherwork could be finished back at his workshop. Before they left, of course, Toothless helpfully batted at the coals burning in the furnaces, keeping the heat up for longer.

---

A few hours later, it was done. The harness had come together, Toothless had been fitted, and Hiccup verified he felt secure under Toothless's belly. With that, all that was left was to test it. Hiccup clung to his dragon's neck as the night fury flapped to carry them to the edge of the cove they had first met in. It was grassy, it had a pond... if something went wrong and Hiccup ended up face-down with a dragon on him, this was one of the safest places for it.

As Hiccup made one last check of the harness, Toothless playfully nipped at his shirt, tugging it up. Hiccup laughed and rubbed the night fury's snout. "Maybe next time, bud. Gotta make sure my outsides won't get rearranged as well." Toothless huffed, but his tail swished back and forth as he thought of a next time. Soon, Hiccup had strapped himself in, and dragon and rider approached the lip of the cove. Hiccup's heart was pounding, and he could feel Toothless's thundering against his back. All of a sudden, the grass below didn't look so soft. However, as he felt the night fury's body tense, ready to spring, he refocused on his feet against the tailfin pedals.

Toothless leapt, spread his wings, and dove for speed. His tailfin snapped out, and the pair pulled up. The dragon hugged his forelegs around his rider, and above the wind buffeting his face, Hiccup could feel and hear Toothless purring. He felt that, if he were able to, he'd be purring, too.

[fireinmoonshot]

REBEL | ARMITAGE HUX x READER | PART THREE

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE RISE OF SKYWALKER.

PART ONE | PART TWO Summary: Armitage Hux finds himself strangely fascinated by you, a Resistance fighter and pilot, even though he knows he shouldn’t. You know that there’s much more to him than you see on the surface. Pairing: female!Reader x Armitage Hux Fandom: Star Wars Word Count: 2421 Warnings: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER SPOILERS. A/N: Again, thank you so much for the lovely response on this fic so far. I’m genuinely having the best time writing it so it’s so lovely to hear that you guys are enjoying it too. I feel like this chapter really gets into the storyline and is the biggest sort of sneak at what’s coming up in the next few chapters! This was an absolute blast to write. I hope you have just as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Read it on Ao3 here.

Pasaana is unlike any place you’ve ever seen. As you wander around, you feel like there’s too much to even see. Too much to even take in, but you try to take it all in anyway. The music, the dancing, you’re smiling and you can’t help but think about how this place is exactly like the stories you heard as a child.

For a festival that’s only held every 42 years, you can’t believe your luck.

You know it’s not why you’re here. That you’re here for a more important mission. You don’t even notice your receiver buzzing away at your side because you’re too enthralled in all of the music and the pure joy in the air – and too busy trying to get information out of the locals.

There’s a necklace safely placed around your neck from one of the locals when things start to go wrong. Rey runs up to you just as you rejoin Finn, Poe, Threepio and Chewie. She looks panicked, and you instantly feel on edge.

“We have to go back to the Falcon. Now.”

“Why?”

“It’s Ren.”

There isn’t even a moment of hesitation when it comes to her words. You know that she’s right. You trust her. She’s told you before about the Force connection she has with him, and the group of you take off running instantly, back towards where you left the Falcon.

You run straight into the back of Finn when you’re spotted by the Stormtrooper.

“Hold it right there! I’ve located the Resistance fugitives. All units report to–“

You flinch as a dart comes out of nowhere and takes him down.

Whoever it is, you don’t recognise them, but as they tell you to follow them, you all realise you don’t have a choice. The Stormtroopers – Ren himself – know where you are. And someone is here, willing to help, and you take the offer. The fun of the festival is long gone, the only happy memory of it the necklace still around your neck, as you step onto a transport in an attempt to leave and hide.

But the smile that had gone from your face doesn’t take long to return when your savior removes their mask and reveals himself to be General Lando Calrissian. And you know, that even for a short amount of time, you’re in good hands – safe hands.

–

When you finally make your way to Ochi’s ship, your shoes are filled with sand and you’ve never wished for a long drink of water more than you have now. Pasaana is hot, especially after flying over it on speeders and being stuck underneath the sand itself.

Finn helps you up the rocks, along with Poe, until you’re finally at the ship. But with Rey gone again, there’s worry in you as you board the ship and take it all in for the first time. It’s dusty, and you want to sneeze as soon as the door opens. But you slowly and reluctantly start searching while Finn and Poe attempt to get the ship running – you highly doubt it will. It looks like nothing but an old rust bucket.

You’re lifting a sheet off of something to check what’s underneath when your elbow knocks into your receiver, attached to your waist. You’d forgotten it was even there, but you pull it off your belt and check the screen anyway, cringing as you see three missed calls on the screen.

And there’s only one person who knows the frequency they’re on.

“Damn it,” you mutter under your breath. Hux had tried to reach you – probably to warn you about the impending arrival of the First Order on Pasaana, and you hadn’t even noticed.

You know there probably isn’t a chance of an answer, but you try and reach him  once, and then twice for luck, just in case. Both times, there’s no reply. You can’t blame him. How he even knows you’re with Rey and the others, you don’t know. Probably some sort of gut feeling, but you can’t help but smile at least a little at the fact that he’d likely tried to warn you.

Even if it hadn’t worked.

“Chewie, tell Rey we gotta go!” Finn’s voice comes from the cockpit.

Wanting to be of use, you holster the receiver again beside your blaster and join Chewie. Wherever Rey is, whatever she’s doing, you have no idea. But you can hear the urgency in Finn’s voice and you know leaving now is important.

When the both of you leave the ship and start to run after her, neither of you notice the Knights of Ren hiding and watching you from the other side of the rock.

–

You can’t fight the Stormtroopers or the Knights of Ren when you and Chewie are captured. You try, for a brief moment, but there are too many of them and too little of you. Even if you yelled for help, you know it wouldn’t make much of a difference. And so you allow yourself to be captured, with no other choice.

They take your belt and confiscate your blaster and your receiver before pushing you onto the transport with Chewie. One Stormtrooper pushes you a little too forcefully and you fall to the ground, knees slamming into the hard metal of the floor. You wince and crawl to the side of the ship where you sit, arms bound and staring at your captors.

This is not how you envisioned today would go.

–

Armitage is sitting, staring out at space and entirely lost in thought about the recent news that you are with the scavenger on Pasaana when an officer comes up to him.

“General Hux, a transport has arrived back from Pasaana.”

He turns and looks at them, eyebrows raised. “And?”

“It’s brought back valuable prisoners.”

On the outside, he smiles as he stands and follows the officer to where the prisoners are being held. But on the inside, he’s crossing his fingers and hoping it’s not you that’s been caught. He’d missed you when you tried to contact him, too busy talking with Allegiant General Pryde, but now he wishes he’d been able to answer. To warn you, to talk to you even just a little. He doesn’t know what he would have said, but anything would have been better than the silence.

If you’re being held prisoner, he doesn’t know if he can ever forgive himself for not trying at least one more time to try and contact you. An attempted warning is nothing if it doesn’t work.

He’s holding his breath as the doors open. His eyes first fall on the wookiee – the one he recognises, famous for flying with Han Solo for years before, but then it’s like his heart stops in his chest as he sees you, standing behind him, pushed forward by the Stormtroopers. You look tired, and there’s flecks of sand in your hair from the Pasaana desert and he instantly becomes defensive as he notices the grip the Stormtroopers have on you.

He wants to say something.

He can’t say anything.

Briefly, Armitage meets your eyes. He tries to convey something but he knows he’s probably not doing a very good job at it. In your eyes, he can see hatred mixed with fear, and he doesn’t like it at all. He hopes the hatred isn’t directed towards him.

“A wookiee and a Resistance soldier?” He puts his best General voice on, and hopes you’ll know the difference. “Keep them here. Don’t do anything with them until I fetch Allegiant General Pryde. He will decide what to do with the prisoners.”

–

He returns not long after with Allegiant General Pryde in tow.

“Take the beast to interrogation six,” he says, as he looks at the wookiee. And then, he turns to you. His lips twitch up ever so slightly and Armitage can tell what he’s thinking. If he were braver, he would say something, do something. But he’s not that brave.

Armitage’s hand balls into a fist at his side. You notice.

“As for the girl… interrogation seven. I feel we’ll get more out of her than we will out of the wookiee. When Ren returns, I’m sure he’ll be interested to talk to her.”

With that, Pryde walks away and leaves Armitage standing with the Stormtroopers, the wookiee and you. Immediately, they start escorting the wookiee one way, but before they can start to pull you away, he steps forward.

“I’ll take her and interrogate her myself before Kylo Ren returns,” he says simply. “She might be willing to speak more openly to someone not hiding behind a mask like yours.” He fixes them with a look, and they all disperse, leaving him alone with you. Gently, he grabs your arm and leads you down a different corridor.

He hadn’t been expecting to see you again so soon. It hadn’t even been that long. But clearly, you had other plans rather than waiting till your next meeting. Most of all, though, he was glad that you were safe – or as safe as you could be trapped on a First Order ship. At least you weren’t in the transport that the scavenger had destroyed.

“What are you doing?” You speak through gritted teeth. “Are you actually planning on interrogating me? You know I’m not going to say a damn thing.”

“Of course not,” he replies. “I’m getting you out.”

You force him to a stop, not caring that you’re in the middle of a corridor where anybody could see you, and shake your head. “No, I’m not leaving without Chewie.”

“Chewie?”

“The wookiee. I’m not leaving without him. Take me back to him, lock me up, I don’t care. I’m not leaving this ship unless he’s with me.”

Armitage takes a deep breath and then pulls you out of the corridor and into a small side alcove, out of the view of the cameras that cover almost every angle in the ship. “If you don’t escape, they will torture you for answers. Kylo Ren will return and he can use the force. He can get answers out of you easier than he can with a wookiee. They don’t need to translate your words. I’m trying to help you here. Would you just let me? I’m not good at this.”

“I don’t fear death or torture.”

“Oh? Well, I do. Now let’s go.”

He takes your arm again and starts to try and push you out of the alcove, but you stay firmly stood in the same spot. You don’t intend on leaving without Chewie, not even if you end up dead in the process. You fix Hux with a glare.

“I am not leaving without him. If you want to help me, take me to him.”

Now, he was getting annoyed. “Why are you so stubborn? I don’t just help anybody.”

“I don’t care.” You keep your stance. “Take me to Chewie or let me be tortured and interrogated by Kylo when he comes back. I don’t care. There is no way I’m leaving Chewie up here on his own just because you want to help me escape. I’m not going. Unless you can help the both of us escape, stop trying.”

He stares at you then, for a moment. His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are dark. But then you look at him with something different in your eyes, and you mutter a small “Please” and he can’t let you down.

He’s never had a friendship like the one you seem to have with the wookie

e. He envies it, just a little. And so he sighs deeply and shakes his head at you.

“You are impossible. You are aware of this?”

“I have been told that before. By you, I think.”

He shrugs. “That would make sense.”

Armitage sighs and shakes his head. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks around. He doesn’t want to actually take you to interrogation. He knows that won’t end well. But what options does he have? You won’t allow him to help you because of your… Chewie and he realises now that you won’t budge, no matter how much he pushes.

“What am I supposed to do with you if you won’t let me help then?”

You shrug a shoulder. “Lock me up. Wherever Chewie is, lock me up. If anyone says anything, tell them that I refused to say anything so you’re waiting until Ren is back.”

He hates to admit it, but it’s not actually a bad idea.

Well, he doesn’t like the idea of locking you up and imprisoning you on the ship, but really, he’s been left with no other options.

He just hopes he can manage to get you and Chewie both out before Ren returns.

“Fine, let’s go.” He starts to make a move but you reach out and grab his sleeve with your hand – it’s a little awkward considering you’re still cuffed, but it works in pulling him to another stop. Armitage turns around and raises his eyebrows at you. “What is it this time?”

“When I was on Pasaana – you tried to contact me. I didn’t hear the receiver, I didn’t even check it until it was too late. But… why were you trying to reach me?” It’s one thing that’s been bugging you all day, even though you think you already know the answer.

Armitage pauses. He glances at you, and then down at the ground. He can practically feel his cheeks turning pink and he huffs as he finally meets your eyes again.

“I was trying to warn you that Ren was looking for you and your friends. I was hoping that it’d ensure your safety. If I could warn you, you could get out of there before he knew even where you were. But then he found you, and it was too late.”

You smile despite the fact that it’s just confirmation to you – it was what you suspected, him trying to warn you. “So there is a heart in there after all, Hux. I never would have picked you to be someone to warn others of impending danger.”

He narrows his eyes. “Yes, well… me neither.”

“Desperate times, desperate measures,” you offer.

“Something like that, I’m sure.”

With that, you allow him to move you from the alcove again and finally take you to be locked up. You’re not excited about the fact, and you’re not particularly confident that you’ll be rescued either, but you’re hoping. Hope is all you have.

—

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[pedropascalispunkkkk]

Clear As Day

Hey!! So this is my first fic pls be nice to me :)) I had a lot of fun writing this so if y’all have requests I WOULD LOVE THAT

Sorry if the formatting is weird I’m copy-pasting so ya ya anyways here ya go:   

Uhhhhh ch 1? Title: Clear As Day

You watched your feet shuffle along below your body, dragging along the course, red sand that covered both the earth below you and your entire body after a day of scavenging. You could barely feel your body, the long day putting a numb ache over its limbs. Finally, you reached the trading post that served both as a cantina and as The Guild’s home base. You always admired the bounty hunters, longing dangerously to be a part of the world you seemed so separate from. Specifically one bounty hunter… But both your body and mind were too tired of the heat and sand to think about that. So dazed were you in your stupor, you didn’t notice the hunk of metal  in front of you before you ran into him.

“Stars..” Rubbing your head, you see black dots from the dehydration and collision. Barely glancing up from your spot on the ground, you feel eyes staring holes in you. Slowly, your eye’s peek up and travel along, oh maker, beskar armor. This was not  how you wanted to introduce yourself to the Mandolorian. You feel your face flush as you scramble to your feet, almost falling again in your rush. He catches your arm and pulls you up. Light bounced playfully off the black visor of his helmet, dazzling you for a moment before you remember yourself.

“Uh, thanks.” Your voice was high and pitchy. Clearing your throat, you tried again. 

“Thank you.”

No answer. Just the cold visor scanning your face. You weren’t oblivious to his gaze dropping for a moment, and you were almost flattered before remembering your cargo. Juggling the scrap metal and parts you had scavenged that day, you found yourself blushing again. 

“Sorry for tripping over you,” the words fall from your mouth, meant to be a joke, but when he doesn’t laugh, your ears burn. Stars, that was stupid. 

An awkward moment of silence passes. Then he turns away and heads toward Greef Karga at the bar. But not before turning his head nonchalantly and scanning your body shamelessly one last time. Hearing a soft chuckle, you watch him settle into the booth that Karga was holding residence in. 

His eyes locked onto you as you shuffled to the trading booth, scrap and parts in tow. You needed this sale. You didn’t even have anywhere to stay anymore, and the water in your pack was diminishing quickly as the 2 suns on the planet made their closest orbit of the year. The ugly man at the counter, Finor, the person you despised most on this maker-forsaken planet, must’ve sensed your despair, and grinned smugly at you. Disgusted, you felt his eyes oggle your chest without shame. 

“Tell you what, sweetheart. This scrap right here isn’t even worth the trade. But I can think of something else I might want…” Before you can even act, his hand crept onto your wrist, his palms clammy and damp with sweat. Trying to jerk away, you didn’t even notice the Mandolorian had come up to the post. In one swift movement, he had Finor’s arm bent at an uncomfortable position, his hate seething through the shiny helmet. As he let go, Finor glared at both you and the man in armor beside you, seemingly unable to decide what to say, ultimately deciding on, ”You can forget ever making a trade with me, you slut.” The ugly words tumbled from his mouth and it felt like a punch to the stomach. The Mandolorian stiffened at his words, clearly angry. You felt his hand on your arm before you heard his words. Maker, even through the gloves, his touch melted you, and you forgot the ugly man in front of you.

“Come with me,” his voice rasped through the modulator, with a sharpness, but warmer than you expected. You nodded as he walked out of the cantina with you in tow. With a nod to Karga, the Mandolorian tugged you along the dusty streets of Mos Eisley. You followed in silence, but also in shock. You, you, were with THE Mandalorian. If you could be, you were more shocked when the two of you came to the open dunes outside the city’s docking ports, and he walked you to his ship. Wordless, you stared up at his visor, suddenly extremely aware that a) you knew near to nothing about this man, and b) you two were standing way too close than strangers should. All the fantasies your mind had formed about him, and none, none, of them went like this. Your breath hitched when he reached over your shoulder, and ‘oh maker is he about to hug me?’ Thoughts race through your head and your ears start to burn again as his helmet gets closer to your face. And then… he presses a button on the outside of the ship’s door. What the fuck were you thinking?? This was a warrior, a mandalorian! He didn’t care about you, he was just trying to reach the door. He stepped back and looked away from you, thoughts racing through his own head. Why did he get so close?? Was he making you uncomfortable like that creep? The moment passed as quickly as it came, and despite your embarrassment, you managed a question.

“Um,” you said, chewing your lip nervously. “What are we doing here?” If you were paying more attention, or if you had looked a tiny bit closer you would’ve noticed his hands gripping into fists, opening and closing, almost nervously. But you were paying attention, and your gaze dropped for a moment as you hid a smile. Why was he nervous? 

“I want to hire you.” The words were like a bucket of cold ice water over your head as you jerked your head back up to face him. 

“You. uh. You, what?”

He glanced away impatiently. He didn’t like to repeat himself. 

“Um. Are you sure? I don’t want any pity or anything because of what happened at the bar-”

He interrupted you.

 “It’s not because of that. You know I’ve been watching you, the same way you watch me.” You felt a sparkle of humor in his voice, slightly relieved that he did have some human traits. He wasn’t perfect. (But he was, really.) 

“I know how good you are with kids. I’ve seen you with the kids in the street before. I need a caretaker.” He must’ve noticed as you tilted your head curiously. 

“Not for me!” He stammered, scratching at his hip with his gloved finger. For the first time in a while, you laughed. In your mind, it was just your same old laugh, more of a chortle, really. But to Mando, it was a bubbly, melodic sound that he hadn’t heard in his life, and right then and there, he decided he would do anything to hear it again. You couldn’t see his smile under his helmet, or the shift of his eyes as his ears burned in happy embarrassment. 

“For uh, for him.” You moved your eyes to the direction he gestured. The ship…? But no. Right when you looked at the doorway, a tiny green face popped up, wearing what looked like a paper bag. His humongous ears twitched, and he stared at you with eyes filled with stars. You smiled, first at Mando, then the child as you didn’t hesitate to scoop him up, propping him on your hip and tickling his chin with your other hand. 

Mando watched as you bounced Grogu on your hip and giggled at his funny coos and babbling. 

Directing your attention away from him, you look back at Mando.

“Yeah I think I could swing it,” You say, trying to seem nonchalant, although in your head you were bouncing for joy at the idea of leaving your planet, leaving behind the desert, the sonic showers, the dust, and going with Mando. He nods, seriously, and without hesitation, he walks up the ship’s ramp, clearly expecting you to follow. 

Your exhaustion, which you had almost forgotten, slammed into you like a heavy wave. Shoulders slumped, you follow Mando up onto the ramp. Leaning against the door frame, he watched your face contort with fatigue. When you were finally in the ship, you slumped against the wall opposite Mando. The child wriggled in your grasp, wanting to be released. You obliged happily, glad to be rid of any extra weight. Mando glanced at you, then up to the cockpit, then back at you. You watch him begin the climb up the ladder to the cockpit as you slide to the floor, pressing your cheek against the cool, metal walls. He returns shortly, a paper cup of water and a blue fruit you didn’t know the name of in hand. Too exhausted to stand up, all you could do was stare at Mando as he offered the food to you. It was awkward, you couldn’t lie, but your body literally would not permit you to stand. You were spent. So, after a few moments of understanding, Mando knelt swiftly and left both the cup and fruit beside you on the floor. In the quick movement, a wash of air flew off him. Maker, he smelled good.  Like cinnamon, a little like whiskey, sweat, and some sort of clean soap scent fluttered into your nose. How did he smell so good? He was in a metal suit all day on a 115 degree planet. It made no sense. As swiftly as he came, he left and went up to the cockpit, but not before looking back in time to watch your eyes stutter closed. He couldn’t help but laugh softly under the helmet, a  whisper of a smile glancing over his lips as he went up the ladder to the cockpit. 

It had been 6 hours since you had joined the Mandalorian’s crew, if you could call it that. It was more of a rag tag team consisting of one battle-tested bounty hunter, a literal 50-year old baby, and you. The girl from Tatooine. 

Rolling over, you felt a cold surface pressed below your face. The floor, you realized, as you sat up. A strange wetness accompanied your stomach as you sat up, only to realize the fruit Mando had brought you was squished against your shirt. Mando. Shit. This wasn’t a dream? You were on Mando’s ship. How…? The sequence of events flooded back into your mind, and redness peaked over your ears. Shit you needed to shower. The fruit had left a sticky residue across your front, and stained one shirt of the two you had brought with you. Frantically, you search for your bag. It leaned against the wall behind you, and you searched desperately for your other shirt. Only… it wasn’t there? Shit shit shit. You forgot that you had already traded it for extra water rations on Tatooine in Mos Eisley. You stand up, a little too quickly, and black spots flood your eyes. You were still very dehydrated. Remembering the cup of water next you, and ever so grateful you hadn’t knocked it over in your sleep, you drank greedily. 

Now, a shower. Scanning the room -well it wasn’t really so much of a room than a hull- you spotted what looked like the door to the fresher. Already pulling at your shirt, you open the door. ‘Thank the maker’ you thought to yourself. For a moment you weren’t really sure whether the room was the fresher or Mando’s quarters, and relief flooded your mind as you closed the door behind you. 

Hot water seeped into your scalp for the first time in your whole life. Used to sonic showers, and never having traveled before, you had never experienced so much water before. Your whole body reveled in it, soaking up the scent of the air. Spreading the soap you found all over (you hoped Mando wouldn’t mind you using it,) you scrubbed at your skin until it was red and clean. 

As you stepped out of the warm water, you realized your fatal mistake a little too late. You didn’t have any clean clothes. Your pants and shoes were fine, but your shirt was still damp with blue stains. You could either wear the dirty shirt, or you could risk going out in just a bra and try and check your pack again. 

All while you mulled this over, you didn’t realize that Mando was just outside the door to the fresher. So when you finally came to the decision and decided to just go in the bra and your pants, it was a bit of a shock to come face to face with him nearly half naked when you opened the door. Frozen with shock, you felt his eyes do a once over of your body, before slowly turning his head and holding a… shirt out at you? You stammered out an embarrassed ‘thanks’ before turning on your heel and retreating into the bathroom to pull the shirt on. How did he know? Pulling the soft black t-shirt -his t-shirt- you smelled what was becoming a familiar smell of Mando. Bunching the fabric up to your face, you inhaled deeply. It felt so safe and comforting and clean. Still hot from your shower, and the little encounter you just had, you bunched the long sleeves up on your elbows, and turned to exit the fresher, stopping short with your hand over the doorknob. You heard the awkward shuffle of feet outside as Mando scrambled to go up the ladder. Was he  waiting  for you? A light blush settled over your cheeks, and you stepped out and into the dry, cool air of the hull. Hyperspace was cold, after all. You looked up just in time to see Mando’s boot slipping up the man-hole to the cockpit. You followed suit after checking that Grogu was sleeping in his little cradle with the shell locked tight overtop him. 

Stepping up into the tight nook of space the cockpit was in, you felt a tension buzzing in the air. 

“Hey, the kid is still asleep.” You spit the words in the heavy air, hoping to break the heaviness that was in your lungs. Maker you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Ever since you first saw him on Mos Eisley, he made you feel like this, even before you had ever spoken to him.

He didn’t respond, his eyes just boring holes into you as he stared up from his seat. You shifted your weight under his gaze. You were not about to just let him make you feel like prey.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that? It’s pretty rude.” You say, but the joke is lost between the two of you, and the air is dead. 

He just shakes his head, and gears whir as he turns his chair to face hyperspace. How can he say that all he was thinking about was you? How he wanted to see you coming out of the shower again. How he wanted to see you wearing his clothes everyday. But how could he say that? It was clear to him that you didn’t want that from him. Clear as day.

[sinsofsaints]

The Puppy Cantina

Today we will be talking about puppy hydration. I have two puppies. Sammie my Rottweiler.

And Bella my Pitbull.

They love being outside. But here in Phoenix it gets super hot. Sammie likes to dig holes and then lay in them. Even with the dog house right there or the doggie door so they can come inside and lay on the dog beds. They just prefer the outside.

So I was looking at ideas on how to keep them hydrated outside. A water bowl is usually gone in a few hours. The thought of a store bought one that holds 2gls. Not a bad idea, but plastic in this environment and the water will always be hot. One day I was walking around Walmart and I found this bucket and the light 💡went on.

Yes! That will work. Fill it with water and keep it on the covered porch area. Every couple of days dump the ice bucket from the freezer into it. This also keeps the freezer ice fresher. So this was a great idea but after the first day, I came home and realized that all the water was gone. Confused on what the heck happened to 7 plus gallons of water. I checked the security cameras. Behold, Sammie put both her front paws into the bucket and then scooped out all the water. The water ran down and off the porch to the sand. She then digs up that area and lays in it. Dang crazy dog.

So how to fix that.....cover the bucket.....some kind of dispenser. Looked around for ideas. What came to mind was a livestock bowl. So at Tractor Supply I found this thing.

Yes! That will work. So this is designed to hook to a water hose and fills automatically. The water hose will have hot water in it. Baking in the sun so let's connect dispenser to the bucket with wood and cover the top with wood. Galvanized metal and wood...looks great.

After the sketch, it all looked good. But after fitting everything together, realized the dispenser sat too high on the bucket. So stacked wood to make a base.

Then screwed in the front wood panel to hold the dispenser.

Installed the pipes.

And the with hinges. I screwed them to the wood and then frogged them onto the bucket.

It works great. Now the puppies try to scoop out the water and only a little from the bowl comes out. Then it refills itself. The water stays cooler and usually last about a week or so. And every few days I add ice to it.

The first one I made lasted 2.5 years then ended up with a hole in the bottom of the bucket. So I looked into how to coat the new bucket, with something non toxic to puppies. A spray rubber of sorts. Turns out Flex Seal is safe for puppies and food grade too. Now I replaced the bucket with the new coated one. All is right again.

Thanks for reading. This has been a Sins of Saints Creation. Any questions please let me know. Either here or Facebook. I may post in other places too.