#I guess enjoyed learning more about sea creatures than land creatures

[jacuzziwaters]

I feel like I'm the only person that never had a dragon phase. Like don't get me wrong a huge lizard that breathes fire and flies is something that middle school me liked of course but not as much as I loved krakens. Idk why a giant deep sea creature interested me so much but it did. Honestly it still does.

[siriuslychessi]

The Call of The Sea 1/2

For the @jilychallenge March 2024 Theme: Fairy Tales

Tale: The Three Enchanted Princes

Quote: “Never had she danced so beautifully; the sharp knives cut her feet, but she did not feel it, for the pain in her heart was far greater.” The Little Mermaid / HC Andersen

Prompt: The third part of your prompt is a scenario: A is a member of a ship’s crew travelling to far away lands who discovers B as a stowaway?

Partner: @charmsandtealeaves

AO3 | Fanfiction

The call of the sea was something that many people felt in their times. The sound of the waves and how it swiftly soothed your thoughts and heart when you were in its presence. That was true for all, land or sea creatures. 

The water had a pull that no one could explain but that everyone could feel. 

The sea always had a plan, but it wasn’t easy to read or guess until you were already in it for the ride. 

Lily could feel the pull upwards, she guessed she always could, maybe because she wasn’t fully a siren, like her peers: she was a mermaid. 

Mermaids were a breed on their own, they were half human and half siren, they looked half human from the waist up and like a fish from the waist down. Mermaids could speak to humans if wished to, and could be outside of the water for a longer period without perishing, which made sirens a bit jealous, as their shapes were less human and more scales, and they felt exiled and rejected by the human world.

Lily had known this since birth, her parents explained this to her sister and her when they were younger, they were being raised to be human, as their mother, but the sea had a great power and just one drop of salt water would change their legs to fins. That was until it would be time they needed to choose: if to remain out with the humans, or back into the water and be with the sirens; a decision only they could make. 

Petunia become so obsessed to not be spotted out as a anything other than the perfect woman, someone that the society at Gryffindor’s kingdom could look up to, maybe someone with a good stable job could take her as a wife, move into the mountain to not be tempted by the sea, to not even turned into those despicable creatures she saw in the books. 

But Lily was curious by nature, she loved the sea breeze that was carried to their home from the beach, and loved to go and see the waves, when they were calmed, or raged on. The changing colours of the sea when at dusk or dawn. How the water seemed more alive than anything she ever saw before. 

She never thought of leaving her parents, her sister, her whole life, but until it was time to decide she would enjoy every last bit of her ability to be in both worlds.

Next to the shore is where she met Severus, a pale kid that always seemed to be around the water. He collected small things and trinkets that washed ashore, same as Lily did, curious of their meaning and stories. 

Their friendship built slowly, as some of the local kids picked on him, just as his father mentioned the sirens picked on him. Made Lily be more defensive of her friend.

It was not long until Severus discovered Lily’s secret. Her green fin came by accident while they were playing, and Severus' eyes grew bigger than she ever saw them. 

“I can explain,” started Lily, hoping that he wouldn’t be freaked out, losing the only person that loved the sea as much as her.

“You’re a mermaid!” the enthusiasm in his voice was palpable. 

“I… you know what I am? Aren’t you scared?” Lily asked, a bit worried, hoping that she would be dried soon enough to get back to being human. 

“No! You are special, like me!” The boy moved to the water, and an eel shaped tale, matching his dark hair.

After that the days spent with Severus became more and more, asking about their parent’s stories and the choices they would make once the time came to see if the sea was stronger than the land. Severus talked to her about how they could travel the world without anyone eavesdropping or teasing them. How they could try to learn things from the sirens, ancient magic that would help them to protect themselves, to cast away any danger.

Lily spoke about the wonders of the world and the places she would love to visit, how she wished she didn’t have to choose, because in spite of not loving some of the locals, she adored her family and could never leave her parents, who adored her so.

Each one of them kept talking about their dreams and Lily understood that Severus wanted to reconnect with his mother’s side. His father didn’t take it well that his mother wasn’t honest about her past, so the redhead understood his friend’s wish to know more about Eileen, and her side of the family. 

And Severus understood that Lily wouldn’t come with, at least not willingly. 

Lily already had the talents of a great mermaid, she would fit greatly in the sea, her curiosity would know no bounds if she came with, but she was too afraid of leaving it all behind. Even her terrible sister and the dull people at their local school. 

She was meant for more, she was meant to be at his side, and he certainly wasn’t staying with the village idiots. 

So he made a plan. 

There was one of the wealthy kids that always despised him, it was mutual, Severus thought he was entitled, him and all his friends. Thinking they could do anything and not face the consequences, he thought it was time they would.

Severus would kill two birds with one stone. 

On a full moon night, when the tide was at its highest; the mermaid boy cursed the local kids. 

He transformed them into the animals on their family’s crest: a stag, a dog, a werewolf and a rat.

In their rage they decided to pursue the young boy, and Snape, knowing where Lily would be waiting for him, ran towards the shore, the animals at his talons.

“Lily, run! They won’t stop!” he said, grabbing her hand and moving towards the water. 

“Who won’t stop? Why are these animals following you?!” she asked, running with him.

“They came after me, as they always do at school, and I panicked!” he lied, “I used my magic and turned them into animals, now they won’t stop following me!” he still ran towards the water, “We need to jump, they won’t be able to swim like you and I!”

“You used magic?” it was something that a fully human couldn’t do, Lily could barely make some fishes and flowers, but this was another level. She heard the explanation and nodded, he was right, they could outswim the lot and figure how to reverse things later. 

Once her body hit the water she felt the change, her lungs stopped asking for air and her legs became a vibrant green fin that matched the colour of her eyes, her sight adjusted to the darkness and she could feel her body lowering her core to match the coldness of the sea. 

She had done it so many times before that it felt like second nature, but something was wrong, something was different that night. 

Severus grabbed her hand again and began to swim, before she could notice what was different about transformation, and they kept swimming until they were on the other side of the island.

There they went out of the water and Lily saw the full moon shining above them.

“Oh no, no, no…” Lily desperately moved towards the shore, it couldn’t be true, she couldn’t have forgotten something that important, could she? 

“What’s wrong?” Severus played dumb, his plan worked perfectly Lily never doubted him. 

Lily tried to shake the water from her body, feeling the sand stick to her skin and scales with every movement, feeling it really hard to get on to the dried part of shore, the words of her parents resonating in her head: You can be part of both worlds until the full moon that lands on your birth month on your 15th year. On that day you shall decide if you will remain in land or sea and be forever part of one or the other.

“It’s a full moon, Sev!” she cried, trying to think quickly, Severus had already turned 15th at the beginning of the month, they had a whole day planned before he would turn to the sea the next day, just a day out doing the things he wouldn’t do under water, before they wouldn’t be able to. It was supposed to be tomorrow, she had it marked, she remembered, she wanted to make it special. 

“Is it?” he looked up, “Oh, I would have missed it.” He added, as if trying to take her mind off what was happening, he knew it would take some adjustment, but there was nothing she could do, this was permanent, and Severus' plan had worked. 

“But I didn’t want this!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Lily, I didn’t know. Maybe since you haven’t turned 15th yet it won’t be permanent?” he tried to console her, even if he knew that was not how it worked.

They waited until morning for her legs to come back to her, Lily cried on Severus’ shoulder when she knew it was irreversible.

The sea was her new home now. 

Severus managed to console Lily saying they were in that together, that they could face the sea, and pointing out how choosing the water might lead her parents to believe she abandoned them.

“But maybe there’s a way,” Severus explained, “We could search for magic, the sea is full of it, maybe there’s a way for you to get back to them we can search for it.”

And that was where Lily’s world became so much bigger, and smaller at the same time.

It had been 4 years since that night.

And every full moon the heir of Gryffindor and his friends transformed into animals, they moved around the forest of the island, trying to avoid being seen, to let the village know their secret. They had learned to communicate in animal form, and managed to explore the far ends of the island without being bothered by anyone. No one paid attention to a deer in the middle of the forest, even if the dog and the wolf had to hide at times. 

They have tried with the local healers and witches to find a cure for the curse, they tried different remedies, studied similar cases, and they came up with nothing. No one had seen that particular kind of curse, they didn’t know how to reverse it.

Yet James didn’t lose hope. He wanted to find a cure, if not for him, for his friends. 

He heard about a cure in a faraway land, something that might help them. 

They sailed with a small trusted crew, people that knew about their curse, that could mind the ship when full moon came, and parted to the lands of Hogsmead in hope to find something, even a small lead. 

The people at the docks were eager to help, but when asked about the magicians and scholars they seemed a bit guarded. 

“Do you believe we’ll find something here, Prongs?” asked a handsome black haired man, with a black dog at his side. 

“I’m not sure, Padfoot.” The heir ruffled his hair, irritated by the situation, it wasn’t exactly a short trip. “They are hiding something, I can feel it, but I can’t force them to tell me.”

“You can bribe them to.” The shortest of the group spoke, taking a bite of the apple in his hand. 

“Not everything can be bought with money, Wormtail.” The last man spoke, looking at their surroundings, trying to find a way to get the information or at least someone willing to talk more than the people at the docks. 

“Money usually helps loosen people’s tongues, Moony.” the man named Wormtail replied. 

“So does alcohol,” Moony said, pointing to a tavern. 

“Now you are speaking my language.” Padfoot grinned and walked towards the pub, the black dog staying put next to Prongs as if waiting for proper instructions. 

“We should divide and conquer,” Prongs added, “I need to stretch my legs, I might be able to find something more information elsewhere. I’ll meet you back here later to discuss.”

“Whatever you say, Lord Potter.” Moony teased. 

“Sod off,” Prongs chuckled, walking in another direction, the black dog following him instead of the group, like guarding him while his owner was elsewhere. “I’m sure you are tired of wooden walls too, huh?” He talked to the dog who just wagged its tail and followed the path to the market. 

The heir spoke to the townspeople, asking if there was a library, or maybe a school where he could find some information about ‘family history’. He was lying, of course, but it seemed that it would get him more information than magic and curses. 

He got a few details, some information about scholars and masters, a few apples, and a bone for the dog; who was happy for a new toy. 

They found themselves near the water again. Prongs didn’t like to be cooped up in the ship, but he loved the sea and the breeze on his hair, he loved it when the wind made them travel faster, with no bounds to be seen around. 

He descended some rocks, where he knew the dog could follow, just to hide from any unwanted company, just wanting to relax and go back to his pursuit, his mind needed a rest before trying a new approach to the situation, when Astro barked. 

Nothing was to be seen there, Prongs assumed it was a crab or something, so he decided to ignore it. “You just got a bone, lad, why don’t you just finish that before going for seafood?” He teased the dog and scratched his ear. 

What Prongs didn’t know is that he wasn’t exactly alone, as near there was a familiar redhead that really hoped she hadn’t been seen. 

“Do you think this time around we'll find something?” Prongs knew the dog didn’t understand him, he did this when he was alone, talked to the freaking dog like a madman, but he felt guilty that they were curse, he started things with Snape, he didn’t like the man, but he never intended for his friends to get involved in his mess, and he couldn’t exactly talk to his friends about it. “It would be nice to get rid of this thing, wouldn’t it? I’m sure the lot want to go to Lady Evans’ wedding and not have to excuse himself mid feast.” he continued.

Lily’s heart raced. 

What thing James wanted to get rid of?

Petunia was getting married?

“I’m sure there are lots of things that they would want to do without the fucking curse.” James sighed, and ruffled his hair once more, sighing in frustration. 

He sat there, with Lily trying to see what else he would say about her sister, was she in danger? Was she cursed? What had happened all those years? She needed to know

“I think we should get going, don’t want to worry the lads, we might be able to find something on the way back.” She heard the sound of the fabric moving and the claws of the dog climbing off the rocks as they left. 

Lily needed to find Severus at once. 

Severus was with the Sirens, as always, lately he looked even darked and more scaled than before, like he was turning more Siren than before. He spent so much time in the deep sea that Lily started to worry, even when he told her that there was nothing to worry about, he was just learning new magic spells and more of their people. He thought they were fascinating. 

Lily felt the particular kind of Sirens Snape frequented were the non kind ones, but she needed a favour and the discussion could wait. 

“Sev, I need your help.” she offered as she approached her friend, he was mixing something that didn’t look particularly helpful, it looked dark and murky, like the waste water from the islands. 

“Of course Lily, what happened?” His voice seemed sweet, but lately she felt it laced with something else, something she didn’t like. 

“I want you to do the leg spell, the one you learned from the Sirens. I need to go see my sister.” The urgency in her voice made Snape frown.

Until now Snape had managed to get Lily’s desire for legs under control, she went up to the surface, saw the towns near the shore and came back to help with some of the spells, none of the curses, and she was distracted from her previous life. 

Or that is what he thought.

“Why now? It’s not perfect, I’ve told you.” He kept working on the murky liquid, as if it was more important than her and her issues.

“I know, I don’t care, I think she might be cursed.” she blurted, trying to get Severus’ attention somehow. 

That was the first time Snape fully turned to her, forgetting the concoction. 

“Why do you believe that?”

“I…” James was a sore topic for Severus, but if her sister needed help Lily needed to try. “The Potter heir is in the island, he was talking about Lady Evans' wedding and a curse. Tuney is getting married, and I need to make sure it is not because she is cursed, but because she is happy, I don’t care if the spell is not ready.”

Snape knew that he couldn’t out himself, he couldn’t tell Lily that the curse was on the Potter’s heir and not her sister, that would make her turn away from him, she already doubted him so much. 

“ I’ll go to the Sirens myself if I have to.” Lily was determined to help her sister, this was one thing she wouldn’t back away. 

“No!” he was rushed and harsh, and it made Lily flinch, “They don’t trust you, you go too much to the surface, they might trick you.” He corrected himself quickly, if he wanted Lily to come back to him he needed to do the spell himself. “The spell will give you legs, but it will be limited and painful.” he explained, “ as everything with sea magic, it is tied to the moon, so I can give you legs, until the next full moon, then you must return to the sea.” 

Severus explained, he was clear, and dry with his words, he had offered the spell before, he said it was unfinished, Lily supposed because it was not permanent, and it will cause her harm. If the roles were reversed she would be against it as well. 

“I understand, I’ll endure, I just need to make sure she’s safe.” 

And with that Snape gave Lily her legs. 

[chaozsilhouette]

Turbulent Beginnings

This forms the opening act to Macaque’s story, showing just how different his and Wukong’s early lives were and why he took Wukong’s disappearance so hard.

The idea Macaque was born from the wind was inspired by @animemoonprincess. And yes, I am a shameless fan of Macaque originally having white fur. The angst is just too perfect.

Brace yourselves, this isn’t going to be pretty. I am essentially shoving our boy through an emotional meat grinder.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On a remote island, a day’s travel from China’s eastern shore, a massive hurricane raged as it had since the beginning of this world. The surrounding storms fed into it as its winds carved stone. No life had dared blossom on its soil out of fear of a painful demise. The merciless storm drank deeply of the waters of the sea, draining all aspects of potential and life before casting it aside. Not even curious spirits were spared.

Various deities had wondered why such a storm existed or why the Jade Emperor allowed such a dangerous presence to continue unchecked. Most believed that since the hurricane was stationary and prove no threat to the established order of the world, it was not important.

One day the hurricane vanished. As though it had never existed. Or rather that it had been transformed into something else.

It was the night of a new moon and with the hurricane gone, the island experienced its first cloudless sky. The only one to witness the momentous occasion was a monkie with pure white fur and six ears. Minding his manners, the nameless monkie bowed to the four winds in greeting.

The newborn proceeded to spend his days searching the island for something. Some clue as to the reason behind his birth. He could hear strange voices and words he didn’t understand yet at the same time could. He knew he wasn’t the only creature alive, so why was he alone?

For food, he walked his way through a cave system towards the sea, where he enjoyed the fish that were drawn in through the whirlpools and the mussels that clung to the sharp rocks. He grew to savor the taste of life, even though there was a part of him that craved something different.

Almost forty years passed before he mustered the courage to leave everything he knew to seek out those voices. He gathered all the driftwood and rope that had drifted onshore over the decades, fashioned it into a makeshift raft, and sailed towards the closest source of voices.

His voyage was actually pretty boring once he cleared the whirlpools.

The only exciting part about it was when that strange fish tried to sink his raft. It was bigger than any fish he’d previously seen with a mouth to match. Didn’t mean it survived past the first blow. Taking a bite Macaque wasn’t sure if he liked this fish. The muscles were tough and the flesh was rough on his tongue. He didn’t particularly like the taste. But there was enough to feed him for a full day.

In the end, he chose to eat a third of the fish’s muscles along with its heart before tossing back into the water.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Docking on dry land was an experience that would haunt him for years.

At first, he was filled with wonder at the sight of buildings and new creatures riding rafts far bigger than his.

When he stepped onto shore the whispers began.

The creatures, who he later learned were called humans, were pointing out his ears. They acknowledged his obvious intelligence. He heard them grip wooden instruments tightly. It was as if they expected him to do something.

No one made a move against him. No one approached him, but he could tell he wasn’t wanted. Everywhere he turned he saw eyes that cursed his every existence.

He didn’t stay in that village for long. In his mind, satisfying his curiosity wasn’t worth being stared at as though he was the source of all evil.

Demon.

That is what they called him. Was that what he was?

He didn’t know, but he didn’t like it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He aimlessly wandered the countryside for far too long.

The first act of kindness he received was from a couple who could not have children of their own. He stumbled upon them by accident, but instead of the normal fearful expressions he’d come to expect they greeted him with genuine smiles and an offer to join them for dinner.

They took him in and treated him like family. He became the son they always wanted. They taught him how to properly speak and how to walk comfortably on two limbs. They blessed him with a name.

They were kind and nurturing. In another world, they may have been called bodhisattvas. But sadly, due to them being ordinary mortals, his time with them only lasted four decades.

He buried them with love but grew resentful of his weak emotions.

He learned what it was like to have someone welcome him home after a long day. He learned to savor the taste of a mother’s home-cooked meal. He enjoyed having a father figure who was willing to teach him old military tactics. He experienced friendly competitions to see who could paint the most accurate portrait of a flower they saw earlier that day. It was everything he never knew he craved and then it was gone. Leaving him with an empty home and a broken heart.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Nearly fifty years later he joined a band of traveling performers.

Their natural oddities allowed them to see who he really was and welcome him into their party. With their compassion, he was granted the opportunity to heal. He learned that despite the group’s large size, very few of them had any direct blood relations. What made them special was how they created their own family and turned what many called strange into something beautiful. Out of respect, he delved into the world of entertainment, found he had a natural talent for it.

When he took the stage people assumed he was in costume, but that didn’t matter. The applause of the audience was a gift he cherished. The sheer passion this family expressed through every second in life warmed his heart beyond words. They were just what he needed to bring him out of his depression.

Alas, it was not meant to stay.

One night their camp was ambushed by a group of demons. They were nothing special, hardly worth mentioning. But for him, back then, it was a fight he never imagined. He could easily handle human bandits, so could his family, but never had he traded blows with a small army of his fellow demons. With the rising of the sun, Macaque stared at the cruelly bright sky covered in blood. All around him bodies lay scattered, life essence soaking into the ground. Despite being tasked with fighting off nearly five dozen demonic opponents he managed to survive with barely a scratch, but he was alone. Again.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tried to change things by sticking to his fellow demons. At least they lived longer.

Somehow that ended up with him becoming the apprentice to a demon healer for almost a century. She was a cold-hearted bitch with a heart of gold. Meticulous in her work, masterful in deduction, and short-tempered with the foolish. She gave everything to her practice and expected the same from him. It was bitter work, but he found it fulfilling. The knowledge that he now possessed the ability to restore others to peak condition settled some unknown part of his soul.

Of course, they would have visitors who wished to take advantage of her skills or steal the medicine. Between the two of them, they protected their clinic, but they weren’t always together. While she may try to hide it, she wasn’t the strongest demon out there. Apparently, the entire reason she got into medicine was to uncover why she was so weak. Centuries of research turned up nothing, but it did make her incredibly skilled at using poisons with her knives to compensate.

One day after he returned from gathering ingredients, he pulled back the door to find the shop in disarray, five unknown bodies slowly dying of extensive blood poisoning, and his master bleeding out from her severed arms. She always said she had no intention of entering Naraka alone.

Guess she kept her word.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The cycle repeated itself over centuries. He would experience a brief window of happiness only for it to be savagely stolen from him, leaving him to mourn and curse his weak heart.

The small glimmers of kindness humanity showed him only made him curse their race even harder when he couldn’t walk into a village without being harassed. The humans who had proven stronger were sadly a rare breed. He was rare to encounter one a century and often they perished at the hands of their kind rather than by demons.

There were times when the ignorance had gotten so bad he’d taken to traveling with a constant glamour, disguising himself as an average human. Whenever he was in the presence of other demons, he allowed his true form to manifest, however, he made it look like he only had a single pair of ears. Standing out was the easiest way to wind up in a complicated situation he had no interest in trying to defuse.

That’s not to say his time was wasted.

Quite the contrary, he had learned much during his travels. He could hardly be compared to the happy young monkie, who was ignorant of the dangers and hardships this world held. In a sad attempt to fill the void, Macaque sought out wisdom and strength. He located masters of both the mystic and martial arts. He may have had to lie about his age, he was becoming quite the accomplished liar, but the results were more than worth it. With every stop, he found himself growing more certain of his strength and his identity.

Eventually, he discovered a strange monastery hidden in a cave in the face of a mountain.

He had never seen anything like it during his travels. But what truly drew his attention was the feeling the temple exuded, every stone exuded a strange aurora. Something powerful dwelled within, powerful yet there was an undeniably human quality to it all.

Hiding beneath his usual glamor, Macaque approached the temple with the desire to discover exactly what was being taught. Before he knew what was happening, he was speaking to the immortal sage who was running the joint. Master Subhuti welcomed him to his home and offered some tea. The disguised monkie was bombarded by dozens of questions, all of which he attempted to answer as though he was a normal human.

The master welcomed him as his newest disciple and showed him his new home. Later he learned the master could see through his disguise and sensed his potential. Apparently, the old immortal believed that the monkie would do well to learn his disciplines and he was fascinated by the monkie’s natural talent.Said something about how with proper guidance only the Buddha would be able to peer past his façade.

The monkie even received a new name to celebrate his rebirth. From that day forward he was Liu’Er Mihou, or the Six-Eared Macaque. He liked it. While he cherished the name his first family gifted him, he felt this was a good sign. A tribute to show that he was a changed monkie.

Regardless, he refused to drop his glamor. He had seen too many demons be cast out and attacked for getting sloppy. The other students were not thrilled about the newcomer showing them up and he wasn’t willing to give them a true reason to despise him. He learned quickly, more so than any other human disciple, but that put him at odds with those who were still struggling after years of training.

Macaque distanced himself from the others. They weren’t that interesting anyway. He didn’t care that they talked about him behind his back or were fully aware he could hear them. He couldn’t risk getting close so soon. He was determined to break the cycle. He didn’t care about immortality. He didn’t care about obtaining power. All he wanted was to end the pain. So far things had been working out in his favor.

Then heshowed up…

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

That trice damned monkie with peach-colored fur and markings like a golden mask. He was so naïve about the world. He treated everything as though it was some exciting game. His upbeat energy made Macaque sick. Some twisted part of him wanted to snap his neck just to end it, but a small part was fascinated by it. The other monkie reminded him of a time he had almost forgotten.

The Monkey King, or Sun Wukong, didn’t bother hiding his true appearance. Truthfully, Macaque wasn’t sure he knew how or that he should. He didn’t seem to notice how other students would keep their distance or how they kept their conversations as brief as possible without crossing the threshold into being considered rude.

He was so earnest and happy, it was painful. The new monkie pestered everyone about everything, it was like dealing with a newborn, but it seemed Macaque was his favorite to bother. The worst part was how he stared at Macaque as though he could peer past his glamour. Although Macaque wasn’t sure if that was truly possible. The Master could, but he dedicated centuries to refine his skills. Wait. How old was this annoyance? Perhaps he could smell he wasn’t like the other disciples.

Either way, he knew it was just a matter of time until the truth got out. He just didn’t expect it to be when he was changing.

Each student was offered a meager room for privacy. They were all the same size and offered little to no space for any customization, but the walls were enchanted to cut out sound whenever the doors were closed.

Behind those flimsy walls was the only time Macaque allowed his glamor to drop. While he valued being cautious, even he couldn’t keep up the glamour indefinitely, much less when he was asleep.

It was in that small space of safety that he discovered he wasn’t alone.

He had just allowed himself to relax when a smiling face covered in peach fuzz was shoved into his own.

“I knew it! You’re like me.” Sun Wukong happily exclaimed, stars practically dancing in his eyes.

“Shut up.” Macaque clamped his hand over the other’s mouth. Checking to ensure no one else was present and the door was shut, he faced the intruder. “Have you told anyone?” He hissed, while berating himself for failing to check the ceiling. You always look up when scanning a room, he knew that.

“Nope. Why are you hiding? You’re beautiful.” The cheerful demon spoke as though they were old friends. His golden eyes took in every hair of his fellow monkie’s true appearance.

“I’m a demon. And there is nothing beautiful about me.” Macaque growled.

“Yes, there is.” Wukong insisted. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you hiding? The Master let me in, I wager he knows about you, so why?”

Sighing, Macaque massaged the bridge of his nose. “I have been hurt enough times to know keeping a low profile is optimal in survival. It is better to keep one’s head down than risk getting called out.” From observation, he knew the newer student wouldn’t leave until he received answers, so the best option was to just give him what he wanted and pray he knew enough to leave.

“That’s no fun.” Wukong stuck his tongue out in distaste. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. We were born this way.” He jumped high into the air only to catch himself on his tail with a cheeky grin. “So, they’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Cute speech. But my answer is no. Now leave.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix that attitude right up.” Thankfully Wukong left, but not before sending a smile laced with mischief his way. “See you tomorrow.”

Macaque prayed to every deity that would be the end of it. But even he knew it was a futile attempt.

“Do you have a tribe?” Wukong asked, hanging by his tail from Macaque’s favorite tree.

A startled Macaque blinked at the random question. “A what?”

“A tribe. A family. A place to call home?” Wukong asked smoothly even if he wasn’t familiar with the term family until recently he knew it was important.

“Not anymore.” Glaring Macaque returned his focus to his meal.

“Aw.” Wukong knew that look. He had seen plenty of monkeys wear that arura after watching other tribe members die. “Then you should come with me!”

“What?”

“Yeah. You can join my tribe. There are dozens of us back home. Plenty of food and water, you’ll constantly be surrounded by others like us.”

“Other demons?”

“No.” Wukong smiled as though he told a funny joke. “Other monkeys.”

“There is no reason for me to join you.” Macaque stated, wishing he could finish his lunch in peace.

But Wukong wasn’t letting him go that easily. “And there’s no reason for you to refuse.” He stated, ignoring any and all social cues or common sense for respecting personal space.

It went on like that for years. Every day Macaque would awake to find gold eyes staring at him, waiting for his answer to change. Breaks were spent dodging the hyperactive monkie as he tried to eat alone. Training sessions soon found him sparring with the same partner.

The monkie was stubborn no doubt and Macaque feared his actions were slowly breaking down his walls. The pale furred monkie missed having a connection. He adored being able to talk to others, but whenever he opened up he only got hurt.

But maybe, maybe this time could be different…

Wukong was training to obtain immortality. He had already proven to be stronger and more clever than anyone he’d known. The simian showed that he wanted to know him better. He constantly tried to touch his fur, something he called grooming, which felt pretty nice.

Maybe…maybe this time he could truly have a home.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

A streak of light accompanied by a sharp whistle pierced the night sky. For a brief moment, it vanished before exploding in a beautiful display of color and light.

On the monastery’s rooftop, Wukong backflipped in joy at the sight, his golden eyes wide. “Happy New Year!” The monkie cried. In the village below, he could make out dozens of voices echoing the greeting.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw them, fireworks were a sight he always adored. “This has got to be mankind’s greatest invention!” The flowers of fire were simply too beautiful. So unique. Nothing on Flower Fruit Mountain compared to such beauty, it made him thankful he decided to leave.

From the corner of his eye, Wukong noticed that his companion was clutched his ears wincing with every detonation. “You okay, bud?”

“I’m fine. Just loud.” Macaque said. He was truly questioning his sanity by joining Wukong on the roof. Normally he barricaded himself in his room, but his friend was so thrilled about sharing their first New Year together he couldn’t say no.

“Oh.” Somehow the new set of fireworks didn’t look that attractive. “We can go inside if you want.” They were beautiful, but nothing was worth feeling helpless as his friend curled up in pain.

“I’ll be fine. I’m adjusting to the volume. No different than punches that break the sound barrier, right?” Macaque tried flashing a confident grin to varying success.

Wukong suspected that Macaque was lying, but learned enough to know further prying would just cause the other monkie to simply shut out the world. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

“You made a persuasive argument.” Anyone who could harass him for nearly five years straight proved their determination.

Wukong playfully stuck his tongue out. “Hehe…Seriously though, I’m happy you chose to be part of my tribe. No one should be alone.”

“Then why have I been for so long.”

“I doubt even Master knows. But you won’t be able to say that anymore.” Wukong wrapped his arms around his best friend. Pulling him close, Wukong faced the fireworks, unconsciously grooming Macaque as he savored every pop of color.

Beneath those gentle digits, Macaque steadied himself against the soothing heartbeat of the one he slowly learned to trust. As the display continued, the pale monkie learned to appreciate the human’s creations. Turns out they weren’t so bad so long as you have the right company.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

“I’m sorry. You’re what?!” Macaque’s response was perfectly justified. There was no way he just heard what he thought he heard.

Wukong flashed a blinding grin. “I’m heading to the Celestial realm. I’ve been given a position in Celestial Bureaucracy.” Not seeing any problems whatsoever.

“Why?” Just why? From everything he heard about those stuck-up deities, they would never hand over a position to anyone without requiring the completion of an impossible task, much less to a demon. Least of all a demon who has done nothing but terrorize others and unleash chaos whenever he went.

“Don’t know. But I got to go right now.” Wukong shrugged as he finished packing. The Gold Star of Venus was waiting just outside the waterfall.

“But what about Flower Fruit Mountain? What about your subjects? What am I supposed to do? How long are you going to be gone?” Macaque fired off a rapid stream of questions. Panic was beginning to take hold.

Wukong, however, was as calm and confident as ever. “Stop worrying so much. Look I’ll be back as soon as I can. Until then you’re in charge.” He finished as though it was obvious.

“Me!” A white tail nearly burst into twice its normal size in shock. “But I have no idea how to run a Court!”

“Neither do I. Not in the traditional sense at least. Look just keep an eye on things. Protect the monkeys from hunters and malicious demons. Sometimes one of the allied demon kings will ask for some help. It’s nothing you haven’t helped me with before. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle things until I get back.”

Seeing his companion and good friend growing even more lost, Wukong closed the distance and took his face in both hands. “This is a good thing. If I can make this work, none of us will ever have to worry about being hunted or not having enough food ever again.”

In a snap, Macaque grabbed the king’s arms. “What if I don’t care about any of that? What if I just want you to stay?”

For the first time in their conversation, Wukong’s cocky attitude vanished replaced with a loving smile. Gently prying Macaque’s claws off his shirt, Wukong placed his cheek on a palm as he kissed the knuckles of another. “I can’t. This is too good an opportunity to pass up. This isn’t goodbye. I’ll keep in touch. The time will fly. We’ll make this work. Trust me.”

“Alright, Wukong. I trust you.” Macaque said, ignoring every fiber of his being that screamed this would end poorly.

“If things go wrong, remember I’m just a telepathic call away.” Summoning his cloud, Wukong back flipped onto it with his bag. “Monkey King, out!”

One sonic boom later and he was gone, along with a good chunk of the cave walls.

“Hpmh. That’s my idiot.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

How did this happen? How did this happen?!

One moment they were fighting for their lives against the army of the Celestial Realm and the next Macaque bore witness to Wukong being carted away in a diamond snare.

Now as he stared at the charred remains of what once was a growing village of monkeys, Macaque felt something within him change.

For almost two months he had burned in celestial fires. The sounds of the dead and dying rang out, making his namesake almost bleed. He choked on the ashes of the mortal monkeys. The air had a strangely sweet and bitter taste to it.

Macaque lost count of all the times he charged back into the fires to save as many heartbeats as he could. He wasn’t sure but he suspected he blacked out more than once. With every heartbeat that stilled before he could reach them, a part of him followed them into Yama’s realm.

Finally, the fires had died down. They didn’t have anything left to burn.

All around him he saw the pitiful leftovers of what was once a thriving community. He had treated the survivors the best he could, but he lost his medical equipment in the blaze. The only ones he didn’t have to worry about were the monkeys Wukong made immortal, but he did what he could to ease the pain.

But still, he wondered why…why were they staring at him as though they were confused?

Maybe he was overthinking everything. He just worked through 49 days without any sleep. Everything was stable for now. The best course of action was to wash off the ash and get some much-deserved rest.

There was nothing the Celestial Realm could do to Wukong that he couldn’t handle. Besides Macaque didn’t even know how to get there even if he was at full strength. Wukong couldn’t die so it was only a matter of time before someone tripped up allowing him to return home.

He just had to be patient.

Stepping into the clear river, Macaque’s jaw almost dropped as the water around him immediately turned gray. He didn’t realize he was that filthy.

He started scrubbing himself, ducking under the water to ensure he didn’t miss a spot. He had to move a few times due to the sheer amount of shoot and ash that clung to him. The entire cleaning process took a full hour before the water ran clear.

Stepping out, Macaque felt more refreshed than he ever remembered. Shaking to remove as much access water as possible, all the towels were soot so he had to make do, he paused by the waterside to see how much fur he lost. But what he saw met none of his expectations.

Instead of fur that invoked images of the moon, he was cloaked in the color of the darkest ink.

“What happened to me?”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Five hundred years.

Five hundred years he searched, for any trace of the legendary Five-Fingered Moutain Buddha used to trap Sun Wukong only to find nothing. Macaque scoured far and wide. Neither the winds nor the shadows could lead him towards his friend.

He picked fights with countless demons who claimed to witness the great Monkey King brought low. It barely took two punches before they broke down crying how it had been nothing but a lie, how they only repeated rumors.

He bargained for any information he could find, but all accounts claimed the mountain didn’t exist. Many refused to answer him on principle of not interfering with the Celestial Realm’s issues. Their last mistake. Others took Wukoong’s punishment as a sign to amass as much power as possible out of fear that they would be targeted next.

Macaque had witnessed the formation of more alliances and territory grabs in the past century than had been recorded in the last thousand years. Demons were becoming more power-hungry and suspicious, which meant even more trouble for the humans. Things were becoming so chaotic, Macaque had to wonder if it was planned.

But he couldn’t dwell on that.

He hadn’t visited Flower Fruit Moutain in years. His clones kept guard, but slowly he was losing the drive to keep replenishing them. The only reason he called that mountain home was because of Wukong. It wasn’t home without him.

But he had to keep looking. Had to keep trying. He would find his friend.

Somehow.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tricked himself into thinking this would be different. That he would no longer be alone. That finally he had found a family he could keep.

He was an idiot!

The truth was he was no different than anyone else. The world was Sun Wukong’s toy chest and Macaque was merely a shiny new trinket to bat around until he grew bored. Seeing him with that group, knowing that he chose them over their past, was too much.

He was sick of being left behind. He had been left alone so many times. What made him think he couldn’t be replaced?

He could have attacked, ripped their precious monk to pieces, he could have...should have...but he was tired.

Returning to Flower Fruit Mountain was a chore, but one he swore he would never complete again. The monkeys questioned his return, asking where their king was and if he’d return soon. Macaque ignored them all. He simply walked to the part of the manor he and Wukong had shared for years, where he had been waiting for his return.

Staring at all the knickknacks and souvenirs they had collected from their adventures, Macaque made up his mind. Grabbing a large sturdy bag, he swiftly packed his essentials. In another, he packed non-perishable goods and water containers.

Stepping out, a flash of something peach-colored caught his eye. Spinning around, hope burning a hole in his chest but his dreams once more were proved false. It was just the special peach tree Wukong had planted from the leftover pit he had saved from his time in the Celestial Realm. Apparently, it had reached maturity and was proudly bearing the first fruit Macaque had seen despite having been planted nearly half a millennia ago.

Macaque wasn’t sure why it was so special, Wukong just winked and said it was a surprise for when they could share a fresh one. Feeling something wet on his arm, Macaque looked down to see his hand stretched towards the tree and the memories he held. Feeling his cheeks, he realized he was crying, which was strange as he didn’t think he had any tears left.

Spurred by longing and spite, Macaque plucked six peaches from the tree and stuffed them into his bag. It wasn’t like Wukong was going to miss them. And he needed the food.

[beskarberry]

Silver and Steel

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 2 (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

It was then you noticed the open wall next to you. The steel panel was slid open to reveal a vault packed corner to corner with more firepower than you had ever seen in one place. Your eyes roamed from blaster to rifle to flamethrower, noticing that not all of them were made for five fingered hands. This wasn't just an armory, it was a trophy case.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 7.5k

Content warnings: ALOT. Descriptions of violence (a little spicier than canon) blood mention, near death experiences, hurt/COMFORT, fluff, smut exhaustion sex, top!reader.

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it but yeah PLEASE READ THOSE CONTENT WARNINGS!! It all works out ok in the end! Also good chunks of this was inspired by a particular filk song called Call the Navigator which I’ll link in the replies so the external link doesn’t ef up my post.

<-Previous Next->

"Med pack... junk....junk....spotchka?....is that all you've got?"

You were bent over a deep supply crate, your legs barely touching the ground while you dug through what you had hoped would be the food stock. There were several banged up tins of rations and a handful of miscellaneous junk, but nothing that looked real food. You were clean and dry after your shower, but the energy that had been spent in this very supply room just an hour or so earlier had to be replenished. "Where’s the rest of it?"

The silence coming from the cockpit was expected, but still frustrating. With a huff you grabbed two food tins and made your way through the old ship towards the ladder. At the top though a small antechamber you found your new comrade seated in the pilot chair, fussing with the buttons on the console. On either side and slightly behind his chair were two other passenger seats, though the one on his left was missing a good deal of padding. The cockpit was poorly lit save for the lighted console and the dusty starlight overhead. Though you were in the air, you could tell you were still on Tatooine. Hooray. Why are we still here? The great Dune Sea stretched out on all sides, sparsely dotted with sand people villages, but you couldn’t see any of the large space ports such as Mos Eisley or Mos Espa. In the ships’ darkness you couldn't tell what the lumpy thing was in the other chair, probably blankets or laundry. You went to toss it off the seat when a pair of huge black orbs peeped out from the heap of fabric.

"The fuck is THAT?!" You rocketed backwards, dropping the food tins in the process. The bug eyed creature made a soft cooing noise and lifted the rest of the blanket off itself, allowing two gigantic green ears to pop into view. It didn't look like a threat, in fact it looked kinda cute, but you knew it could still be dangerous. A pair of stubby three-fingered hands made grabby motions at you, the little creature giggling at your bewildered face. " Where'd you find this thing, is it some kind of pet?"

"He's not a pet." Finished fiddling with the console, Mando turned in his chair to readjust the blanket that had slumped off of the small beastie. It squealed happily and wiggled in its comfy cocoon before noticing the food tins that were still on the floor. He pointed the tiniest claw at them and chirped at you, demanding to be fed. "You'd better give him one of those before he gets mad."

It took you a moment to process what he said before scooping one of the tins off the floor, peeling back the lid and placing the dish in the seat next to the little thing. He greedily scooped the mystery mash into his tiny toothy mouth, gibbering between bites. You picked the remaining tin off the floor and leaned against the door frame, watching it happily chow down.

"If it's not a pet then what is it?"

"He's my..." the Mandalorian paused, fishing for the right words to say, "...he is my child."

That was not at all the answer you expected, if he had said emotional support gremlin you would have been less confused. The baby was still making a mess of his dinner, almost dropping his plate before Mando snatched it and set it carefully back in his lap. You had seen first hand that there was a human under all that metal plating, and your tired brain fizzled trying to make the connection between the two very different beings. Mando could tell by your puzzled face that he had some explaining to do.

He told you the tale of how he had been charged to bring the baby in as a high credit bounty, but after he used the reward to get new armor he went back and stole the child away from its captors. He talked about the Mandalorian concept of a 'foundling' and that he himself was one too. At some point you had popped your food tin open and started eating, though you were so captivated by his story that you couldn't remember doing so. When he'd finished you set your empty dish on the busted chair and gently held your hand out for the child to grab with one mush covered paw, who babbled excitedly at his new friend.

Behind you his parental guardian was rigid, ready to take you out if you made one wrong move against his precious cargo. Though he had been the one to steal you away and forgo freezing you in carbonite he still didn’t exactly trust you, your reputation as a hunter-killer was what had driven your bounty so high. He knew you were disarmed, but what else could you be capable of? However, you weren't paying mama-hen Mando any mind. Instead you let the baby play with your hand a bit before he returned to his food. You decided that the only place left to sit was on the floor. Squished into the tiny space between the passenger and pilot seats was cramped, but it gave you a fantastic view out the rounded transperisteel window into the vastness of the night sky.

“Your story sounds awful familiar.” You turned your attention to the metal clad man, watching him fidget with the steering controls. “You abandoned a guild reward for anothers wellbeing, like I did. Someone that didn’t deserve to be dragged back in cuffs. Is that why you picked up the puck on me? Some kind of kindred spirit something or other?”

“We’re nothing alike.” He was watching out the window, focused on flying the ship to unknown destinations, but he was bouncing the leg farthest away from you. So when the cogwheels turn in your head, the machine moves somewhere else. If you hadn’t experienced his human body first hand you could have easily convinced yourself he was a droid.

“Now that’s not true. You told the guild to get fucked because your moral compass was pointing the other way. I didn't just let that quarry go y'know? It was more than that. There was... there was someone she had to get back to. And the New Republic was just gonna lock her ass up and for what? It wasn't right." You remembered that Togruta woman, pointing a blaster at you with tears in her eyes and her belly swollen with a child that did not belong to the man she was being forced to marry. A few thousand credits weren’t worth another child being made an orphan, and you gave her your ship to escape in while you led hunters on a wild-bantha chase away from her. You knew it drove the guild insane but you wouldn’t have it any other way. A tiny green foot poked itself out from under the blankets by your head, bringing you out of your reverie. On reflex you tucked it back into the safety of his blankies.

Though you thankfully didn’t remember much of your early childhood, you knew you had come from Corellia. You didn’t know if you had parents or siblings, but there had been many other young street urchins in your alley behind the shipyard, and all you had then were each other. You never planned on having any kids yourself, but they were still something to be protected. At all costs, if necessary. “I’m guessing this little dude is happy with that decision.”

Mando had begun to take the ship closer to the ground, it was almost totally dark outside but you could see on the radar there was a large mountainous formation up ahead. Carefully, he landed the beat up craft on a sturdy outcropping of rocks, kicking up whirlwinds of dust and sand. Far out over the sand you could see a collection of lumpy looking ruins that were slowly succumbing to the march of the dunes. You guessed this was where your quarry was hiding out.

The baby was starting to get sleepy, his huge eyes disappearing slowly as the weight of his eyelids became too much. His little head rolled forward, threatening to toss him off his seat. Your big mean bounty hunter heart couldn’t take it, so you scrambled to your feet and scooped the baby up in your arms, sitting down in his seat to get him situated in your lap. He fussed and squirmed a bit, but you had learned a no-fail trick from the Corellian ship builders that would often help to sneak orphaned children onto their ships and off that skughole of a planet towards a better life. Many years ago they had done the same for you.

“Oh, I have sailed the midnight sea from Hoth to Arvala-5.

Seen the Cloudshape Falls of Alderaan, met rocks that were alive.

But soon I came to realize as world to world I roamed,

That nowhere in the galaxy could really be my home.”

The songs you knew were often sang by whole crews of starship sailors, loud enough to shake their durasteel walls, but you dropped your voice low and soft to turn the star-shanty into a lullaby. The baby was watching you with glittering eyes, he had stopped his wiggling and curled up tightly against your chest.

“So call the navigator, set the course and go!

We've stars and planets to explore, my wild heart tells me so.

Beneath the metal decking I can hear the engine sigh

And all I need is a mighty ship and a staaaa-aarr to guide her by”

A tiny yawn betrayed his wondrous eyes, and he gave up and closed them shut, rubbing his little hands on his face. You lowered your voice to almost a whisper.

“I've seen a million beauties and I've known a million fears,

And life is what I've found between the laughter and the tears.

Still I will sail the last frontier through worlds both tame and wild,

And marvel at their strangeness with the wonder of a child”

Soft snores were your only applause, the baby having drifted off mid stanza. You hummed a few more lines of the song to be sure he was asleep. The cockpit was as dark as the surrounding sky, but the glint of silver caught your attention. Starlight reflected off the beskar plates in a way that made the black of his visor seem darker than the heart of a collapsed star, and just as deadly. The Mandalorian was watching you intently, completely motionless.

The precious moment with the baby had made you very forgetful of the dangerous situation you were actually in. You had been captured, you were this man’s prisoner and yet here you were all cozy in the chair with his adopted son in your lap. You glared back at him, matching his fierce gaze when the little green bundle moved to get more comfortable, one tiny hand catching claws in the top you were wearing; a tunic that did not belong to you.

“Here, you take him then.” Your voice was hushed so as not to wake the child, and you raised him up gently to try and unhook him from your shirt. Immediately there were two gloved hands coming to lift the baby off of your lap. He was a monolith of leather and metal, but the way he pulled his son in close was so gentle that all the ferocity of his profession dissipated like mist. Mando carefully tucked the blanket under the sleeping little baby and wrapped him up tight before slowly turning away from you and the flight deck to head down the ladder in total silence, leaving you alone in the dark.

You watched him go, the top of his shiny silver head disappearing into the floor. Without the sounds of life in the cockpit the quiet of the night weighed heavy on your ears. He still hadn’t told you why he had kept you out of the carbonite, all you had done was let him use you as his personal play-thing... and maybe murder off some of his bounty hunting competition, but that wasn’t much to go off of. You had done worse for much less. Put your skills to better use, that’s what he had said. Absently you toyed with the end of your sleeve, no, not your sleeve. His sleeve.

That was another thing, what reason did he have to show you hospitality when his first interaction with you had been so violent? Binding you and marching your ass through the desert after he had fucking shot you. Your escape plan had almost worked, ha! All you would’ve had to do is tire him out and run but that had backfired entirely. The apex of your thighs still thrummed with sensation, warm and blissful. Though you’d had lovers in the past you usually didn’t still feel them so deeply afterwards. The smell of the fresher soap still clung to your body and clothes. Clutching at the collar of your sweater you pulled it to your face and breathed deep, letting the heady scent of it fill your lungs.

“Let’s go. We have work to do.” The modulated voice coming from the ladder startled you from your guilty indulgence and sprang you to your feet, but the source of the voice was already back down the ladder. You sheepishly followed suit.

“You plan on telling me what we’re up to exactly?” Down below the Mandalorian was loading himself with ammunition, each and every slot on his many bandoliers was packed to the brim with charges. His pulse rifle was slung over one shoulder, clanking up against a new piece of equipment you hadn’t seen before. Some kind of jet pack maybe.

“I have two bounties to catch on Tatooine. One of them conveniently fell into a sarlacc pit. The other one's hiding out down there." A bounty fob blinked red in his hand; quick flashes indicated that the target was close by. “If you help me with this, you’re off the hook. I’ll tell Karga you’re dead and the guild will stop sending hunters after you. But-” He turned to face you, he was holding your beat-up old back pack by one ratty leather strap. "If for one second I think you'll turn against me, I'll take the half credits for your corpse."

"You're one to talk!" You hissed, storming up to the gunslinger with the ferocity of a lothcat. "You kidnapped me! I didn't ask to be here."

The man in question didn't budge under your verbal assault. "Do we have a deal or not?"

He forced your backpack into your arms to accentuate his point. You ripped it from his grasp and stormed to the other side of the cabin. Everything was still inside; a pack of bacta patches, a few mementos, three busted tracking fobs and some blaster charges. Speaking of blaster-

"Where’s my gun, Mando?" Your question was answered when you turned back to face him. He was holding it by its barrel, extending the grip towards you. You met his visor with contempt, but took the old blaster from him carefully as not to cause a misfire. It would be nice to not be on the run from a guild you had pledged your loyal services to for so many years, that now wanted you delivered back to them in carbonite; and you knew that Karga would trust his favorite hunter. The life of a moisture farmer wasn’t what you dreamed of when you escaped Corellia. Fuck that. "Yeah, it's a deal. One hunt and I'm gone."

It was then you noticed the open wall next to you. The steel panel was slid open to reveal a vault packed corner to corner with more firepower than you had ever seen in one place. Your eyes roamed from blaster to rifle to flamethrower, noticing that not all of them were made for five fingered hands. This wasn't just an armory, it was a trophy case.

If he didn't want you to ogle his wares he should have closed the panel, but instead he joined you at the wall, picking up some extra plasma cartridges and a vibroblade with a curved handle, which he pushed into your hands. "Will that be enough?"

Either you trust me or you don't, pick a side, tin can. You didn't answer him right away, opting to pull a chest holster and another couple of blasters down from the wall. You cinched the holsters tight and tucked a blaster in on either side, slung a disruptor over your back and stuffed the knife in your boot. Once you had everything in place you stuck your fists on your hips like a superhero with a confidant nod. "Yeah, that should be good."

Mando was watching you with intensity, his visor going over each of your weapon choices. He tugged on your holsters’ cross straps to make sure they were secured. You rolled your eyes at him, "I know how to dress myself, sir."

No answer. Typical. He stopped fussing with your straps and turned back to the wall, selecting a heavy multi-ammo bandolier. He stepped closer to you, wrapping both arms around your waist to fit the belt in place on your hips. You tried to convince yourself that it was the cool beskar of his chest plate pressed up against you that sent a shiver down your spine. The physical contact was over as quickly as it had been initiated, and then he was back in the vault fishing out the tiny silver explosives that fit neatly into the circular latches on either side of your belt, handing them to you without a word. Finished with his selection he pressed a few buttons on his vambrace, one to slide the armory shut and another to summon an egg-shaped hover crib to float to his side. Inside its shell the child was sound asleep, a heart-melting smile on his tiny little face. As adorable as he was, you furrowed your brow in confusion.

“Is he coming too?”

“Where I go, he goes.” Mando said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He strode back to the supply crate you had been digging through earlier and packed a handful of rations into a bag for the journey through the dunes. Cool desert air gusted into the stuffy cabin as the access ramp fell open, and the three of you headed out into the darkness of Tatooine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your dreams were hazy and feverish, shots of blaster fire flickered through the fog from unknown assailants. The smell of blood and blast plasma strong in your nose even while unconscious. You saw the sneering face of a Twi’lek twist in agony and purple blood painted his face before he winked out of existence, replaced in your mindscape with bloody hands. Your hands. Then there was cold beskar on your cheek and strong arms hauling you from the carnage. Harsh wind in your ears and the ground spiraling away beneath you. The howling wind so loud you couldn't hear the questions being barked in your face. Pain, the smell of burning skin, then nothing. You felt objects moving frantically nearby, and something soft and green was pressing into your ribs. Your eyes, heavy as they were, fluttered open to see two huge black orbs staring up from your side where bright red blood was staining the sheets under you. Is that ... my blood?

“Hey green bean...what’cha up to?” Your voice was hoarse and weak, scratching its way out reluctantly past chapped lips. Talking made your head pound, you reached up to cradle your aching skull when two leather tipped hands caught yours and held them steady.

“Easy... Don’t move too much. Please.” Your hands were gently set back down at your sides, shooting pain up your arms. A large black and silver body was hunched beside you, frantically sticking bacta patches to your skin.

“Mand...do? What…what happened?” Your voice was barely a whisper, so faint the recycled air of the cabin threatened to whisk it away.

“You got the bastard, but that fucking Twi' managed to get a shot off in your gut point blank before he went down. You shouldn't have survived that but you did.” Is that a compliment? He was wrapping a long gauze bandage around your arm, fixing the bacta patches in place so they could do their thing. It hurt, but not as much as you thought it should have. Down by your side the child had rolled into you face first, passed out cold next to an emergency cauterizer. Mando nodded at his sleeping son, “And if it wasn’t for him, you’d be dead for sure.” 

The baby? How is he involved with this? Thoughts echoed loudly in your skull, and you decided that thinky time was over. The little guy had the right idea, you should sleep now, embrace the comfort of the dark behind your eyes, let it swallow you whole.

“Hey hey hey! Not yet. Stay with me, ok? You need to drink something. Here.” An armored hand slid under your head, urging you to sit up just enough to take a drink out of the metal canteen pressed against your lips. “You need to stay awake, just for a little while.” Cool water graced your dry mouth and dripped onto your chin. Embarrassed by your mess you tried to wipe the droplets away but once again your arms were halted in place. A rough piece of fabric dabbed at your face.

“I’m not a baby, Mando. I can take care of myself.” The creeping sting of blast-burn that still scalded your skin told you that might not be true. The bacta was just starting to seep into your bloodstream, but it would take some time to work its magic.

“I know that. I was with you down there in the fray. A rancor would have been less terrifying to face than you. But right now I need you to hold still.”

Another compliment? Or was that sarcasm? You’re losing your edge, tin man. You tried to roll your eyes but the effort made your head spin; you glanced around the cabin, trying to avoid meeting the visor that was pinning you to the cot. Strewn about the floor of the ship was what was left of your holsters and weapons, splattered with red and purple blood. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked like one belt had been blasted to smithereens, torn strips of leather the only indication it had been there at all. Farther away you saw a dark block in the carbonite freezer. The Twi’lek from your nightmare was frozen solid, though from his limp posture you guessed he had stopped moving long before he was put in the chamber. One of his long lekku had been cut clean off, and even in carbonite you could see the wound was fresh. Something long and curved stuck victoriously out of the center of his chest. Your vibroblade, lodged to the hilt in his sternum.

Mando was still kneeling on the floor by your side, and though you couldn’t see his face his hunched shoulders gave you the feeling that he was distraught. He still had your head resting in his palm, his thumb absently toying with your hair. Maybe it was the bacta running through your system that made you start to feel warm and gooey on the inside, but the sensation of his hand on your scalp felt... nice. Nice to be touched in a way that wasn't just for survival. Though you had already felt his hands on your body this was something else entirely. Sincere. Maybe it was just the first time somebody near you wasn't trying to kill or capture you. You foolish girl, you've already been captured. Are you so lonely that a gentle touch makes you melt? Maybe it's you that's losing your edge.

"You should have left me for dead, cashed in on that half credit reward."

"That is not The Way." His mantra was rehearsed, spoken as easily as he drew breath, but you could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“Well... thank you for not letting me bleed out.” You could see the top of the baby's green little noggin still curled up against your side, though the part of your ribs he was leaning on didn’t have a single mark. You looked for the blast wound that Mando was supposedly talking about, but aside from a handful of plasma burns your skin was smooth and healthy; the pool of dried blood under you was the only indication anything had been there at all. What kind of mando magic is that? And what did he mean about the child? Your first thought was how disappointed you were there wouldn’t be a good scar. Your second was realizing your top was missing. Shreds of it were still on your shoulders, but the front had been ripped off completely to get to your vanished wounds. Mando seemed like he didn’t even care, he had been so focused on patching you up that the idea of modesty was thrown out the window, but you couldn’t help teasing him. “There’s not a scratch on me, Mando. You just wanted me topless, didn’t you?”

His thumb on your scalp froze, his visor going from your face to your chest with rapid snaps. Without letting your head drop he used his other hand to tear his cloak from his back and throw it over you and the sleeping baby. “Better?”

Party pooper. “Yes, thank you.” Why is he being so nice? He must have ulterior motives, right? Why keep me alive if not to cash in on that bounty? You decided to push his buttons some more. “This bed sucks. Is this why you're so crotchety? Because you sleep on this Maker-forsaken thing? It’s making my back hurt.”

The cot you were on was spartan at best, more of a cloth covered bucket than a bed. It was recessed into the wall opposite of the armory, bits of machinery and droid parts hanging over the space above you. There wasn’t much of a gap between your head and the durasteel plating of the ship’s hull. Your teasing was rewarded with a long, tired sigh. The hand that cushioned your head moved down to your shoulders, pushing on you so that you sat up straight. You scooped the baby off of your side and into your arms, trying to ignore the dried blood from your wounds that stained the sheets before swaddling the sleeping bean in his father’s cloak. The metal man rose from the floor, letting go of you just long enough to remove his cross-belts and unlatch his chest plate, setting them on the floor with a dull thunk. He squished himself between the wall and your back, his dorsal plate scraping loudly without its cape. He scooched one armored leg around you until it was between your hip and the wall on your side, pulling you into his lap and turning his whole body into a pillow, letting your torso rest on his. He was used to the sharp metal bed frame, but that didn’t mean you should be subjected to it.

“Is this ok?”

You could only nod, your cheeks flushing red with a mix of emotions. It was more than ok, his formidable body was warm and comfortable. His arms wrapped around your waist, helping to support not only you but also his foundling. The spice of him was strong now with him on your back, worn leather and metal and that damn fresher soap that was making a fool out of you. Underneath his steady breathing the sound of something rhythmic caught your attention, it was quick and faint, but unmistakably the sound of his heartbeat. His heart is racing. Listen to that engine purr.

Behind you a man with a name you may never know watched your chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, not with lust but something unfamiliar though not unwelcome. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, whether from the ordeal of keeping you alive or the fact that you were in his arms again he couldn't be sure. He sighed, trying to convince himself to calm down, but the deep breath he took only flooded his senses with the essence of you, threatening to melt the beskar off his head with the heat rushing to his face. He couldn't help the way his fingers traced over your skin, careful not to undo any of the bacta patches. He jumped slightly when your hands found his, but the weight of the child still in your arms made it difficult to reach your fingers. The glove you were touching was suddenly empty, and a bare hand snaked out from under the cloak that kept you modest. With the press of a button the child’s pram floated its way over to you from the supply crates. The baby’s adopted father carefully lifted the sleeping creature off your lap and into his hover crib, another button press on the vambrace and the shield door slid closed.

His hand returned to the safety of the cloak, pulling the other glove off before finding your fingers again. His skin was so warm you couldn't help but imagine his hands somewhere more intimate. Evil, evil bacta... Maybe you wouldn't have to.

"I should thank you properly." It was impossible to hide the tiredness of your voice, but he was close enough you only needed to whisper. His grasp tightened around you, your once plush pillow was now a rigid wall of muscle.

"You should go to sleep." the sound of his baritone words so close to your ear made your skin prickle. Too late for that. Slowly you guided his hand down your belly until your tangled hands bumped into your belt line. A low growl rumbled out of the modulator.  “Cyar'ika... you need to rest."

The alien term of endearment made you hum, but you ignored his words of warning and pushed his hand under the tough fabric till his fingertips found your heat, both of you gasping softly at first contact. His free hand fumbled with your button, and after some difficulty you undid it for him along with the zipper. With space to work, with his wrist moved freely, lazily rolling a calloused fingertip against your clit; remembering his lesson from the first time he experienced your body, his touch was light as a feather.

There wasn’t much you could do for him in the position you were in, so you leaned back against him and relaxed, letting him enjoy you at his own pace. The bottom of his helmet was pressed into the crook of your neck, and though it was sharp you could feel something warm and soft underneath it. So there is a real man under there. Scruffy stubble brushed at your skin and sent goosebumps down your chest. Under the beskar his eyes followed the prickling trail that lead under the tattered cloak you still wore to your breasts, watching the way the fabric pointed where your nipples grew hard for him. His other hand couldn’t resist finding its way to your pert peaks, rolling them between his fingers in that way he knew flushed you with heat. Soft gasps rewarded his ears as he worked at your breast and clit, rubbing them in tandem. Your hips rolled into one hand and your back arched into the other, urging him to help you build your climax. He obliged, adding a second finger to pinch your clit softly between strong digits until you fell apart around him.

The pressure that was building behind you and pressing into your spine told you that if you wanted more from him you would have to give him a better angle. You started to get up, but the hands on your sensitive spots held you in place.

“What about your injuries? I don’t want to hurt you.” What injuries? There’s nothing left! His voice was filled with sincerity, a far cry from your first encounter. You didn’t answer him, instead you found each of his hands and squeezed them with a hum, asking him to trust that the bacta had set in and made you comfortable enough to move from your impromptu med bay. He slid his fingers out from your burning core, dragging the wetness from your cunt over your skin until his palms were on your back, helping to push you up off of him. The teeny tiny bed frame made it difficult to spin yourself around until you were facing him, and even more difficult to kick your pants off as you passed over top of him, but he never took his hands away from you to keep you steady until you were seated in his lap.

Straddling his waist you rolled your hips over where his cock was hidden from you, making him shudder under your legs. His arms glided from your knees to your hips, languidly making their way up your sides and past your breasts to the last remaining tatters of the black knit sweater he had allowed you to wear. Hooking a thumb under its ruined edges, he slid it up over your arms and cast it away into the darkness of the ship. His hands went right back to working at your breasts, massaging them like dough in time with your grinding hips. You took a moment to admire how he looked underneath you, his remaining armor glinting in the hazy ship light as his hands searched for every sensitive inch of your chest. You knew from legend that his helmet could never be removed in front of you, but you’d never heard anything about the rest of his clothes. Where his chest plate had been was a strappy flak jacket dotted with magnetic fasteners. Your hands went slowly to the first clasp, and the hands that were so indulged in you froze, his body stiff between your legs.

“Is this ok?” The irony of you repeating his question from earlier back to him made your lips turn in a sly smile. 

“Y-yes.” His voice was nearly imperceptible, and you realized that he was shaking. You looked to his visor, watching him nod in consent before you continued. He dropped his hands to your hips, pulling down on your thighs and rutting up into you while you busied yourself with the complicated under armor until it fell away at his sides, revealing a pair of suspenders and an identical black knit tunic as the one that had been shredded off of you. You didn’t have the energy to peel every article of clothing off of him, so this would have to do. Without his cloak bunched around his shoulders you were able to see the flesh of his throat, so warm and inviting that you wanted to sink your teeth into it.

You bent down to nibble at the exposed skin, and the filthy moan that rattled out of the helmet sent shivers down your spine. The taste of him was exquisite, better than you could have imagined under all that fabric and leather. The overwhelming cocktail of his scent straight from the source made you bold. You kissed your way around the edge of his helmet where the metal met his skin until you found his pulse point and made good on your desires. His body convulsed when you bit down, sucking at the tender skin until you left blooming marks that would be there for days.

“Cyar'ika... Please...“ There was that word again, you didn’t know what it meant but the way he breathed it like a prayer felt like warm honey in your belly. Releasing his tormented neck you ran your hands down his broad chest until your thumbs bumped the leather suspenders that lead you down to his waist line where you were able to tug the edge of his shirt free, giving you a delicious window of his tummy; well-muscled and dusted with dark brown hair. 

“What’s wrong, tin man? Nobody ever touch you like this before?” He was still shaking while you ran your hands under the edge of his shirt and through the soft treasure trail of fuzz from the top of his belt line to the bottom of his ribs. He couldn’t answer you, his breath caught in his throat at the sensation of your hands on his skin, but you were starting to put the pieces of his puzzle together. No, probably not.

You decided not to torture him any longer. The fabric of his pants was nearly stretched to capacity and wet with your slick. You had to stretch one leg out onto the floor to get enough of a footing to lift yourself high enough off him that you could free him from the canvas prison. His cock nearly burst out of its confines, and your face flushed red at the sight of him standing proudly at attention, twitching in your hands with a flood of shimmering precum made just for you.

His chest was heaving, ragged breaths forcing their way out of his modulator before you’d even taken his length. You used your hips to notch him at your entrance and his grip on your thighs clenched like a steel trap. Slowly you lowered yourself onto him, letting him fill you until you were stretched wide. Your eyes met his visor, though from the way it was tilted you knew he was watching himself disappear into you. His arms wrapped tightly under your ass as he thrust into you hard enough that he lifted you off the cot, quickly scooting both your bodies down the bed until he was flat on his back. You tried to stay upright, but his pounding soon had your head spinning until you were falling forward into his chest, digging your arms around his shoulders in a way you were becoming familiar with. Your hands found their way to the back of his helmet to where his hair line started, sneaking a few fingers under the metal edge to tangle in his curls. The Mandalorian’s hands were on your waist, holding you in place while he rocketed up into you, filling the ships cabin with the sound of wet slaps. His thick cock hit different from this angle, grinding up against the sweet spot deep inside you with each rut until you started seeing stars behind your eyes. He could feel you building up around him and he quickened his pace until you were gasping his name.

“M-mando! I... I’m gonna....” Your muscles coiled with heat until you burst, your sweet cunt fluttering around his still pumping cock until he went cascading over the edge of ecstasy with you, his helmet vibrating with a guttural roar. His feverish body shook, giving you a few short thrusts to milk the cum from his cock until it spilled out from where he was lost inside you.

His shaky arms held onto you so tightly, as if you would blast away into space if he let go. The endorphins flooding his head made him want to pour his heart out and tell you everything, bare himself in body and soul for the first time in his life. He wanted to tell you how nice you had looked in his clothes, how the loose knit fabric draped over your breasts was a work of art; even more so when you were standing before him armed to the teeth in his hunting trophies. How seeing you slice that fucking Twi’lek to ribbons was more graceful than any ballet. The sight of the bloody hole that had been burned into your side had made his skin crawl. Mando wasn’t ready to explain the child’s healing powers, he barely understood them himself; but if it wasn’t for the baby he would have been burying your corpse instead of tending your wounds. Instead of experiencing your living body like he was now.

His heart fluttered at the thought of his foundling healing you with his baby sorcerer magic, his tiny green paws pushed on your side where the blood was spilling from your wound. The thought of you dying for his bounty made him sick, but pride flushed the sensation away when he thought back to that first day with you up in the flight deck. How when his baby boy was restless that you acted, not with malice but with tenderness and care. He'd never wanted to rip his helmet off faster in all his days than when you sang his son a lullaby, the sweet tune of it filtering through his sensory equipment, and he longed to hear it as it was meant to be. In that moment he had been entranced, but the fierce glare of his visor had made you feel threatened. He didn't want that. He wanted to make you feel safe. The same way you had made his child feel, the same way you made him feel now. Like the galaxy itself couldn’t tear you from him.

But the ugly truth was that soon it would all end when you both went your separate ways. All the feelings he wanted to confess to you died in his mouth, leaving a bitter taste that brought him back to reality. You still straddled his waist, and though the blood had long since left his cock it still sat neatly in your heat, letting him feel your gentle heartbeat around him. Carefully he pulled himself free from the apex of your thighs and rolled you both sideways onto the unforgiving cot, letting gravity shuffle you down until you were nestled in the crook of his arm. He couldn’t help brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, meeting your half lidded eyes with his own behind the visor.

“I don’t think I can get to the fresher this time.” Your voice was barely a whisper, and the edges of sleep crept unbidden to your eyes; the traumatic activities of the day finally winning over your endurance. “You’re probably going to have to burn these sheets.”

Mando hummed with indifference, though for you he would burn all of Tatooine down if you asked. All the lovely thoughts that had danced through his mind came rolling through again, haloed in the warm light of afterglow. Only one made its way past his lips, sneaking out of the helmets’ modulator like a prayer.

“How does the song end?”

“Mmm?” You were so close to sleep, so cozy and full of cum that you knew would be a fun mess for morning-you to clean up. You wracked your brain trying to remember what the hell he was talking about. The star-shanty? “Why, do you need a lullaby too?”

“N-no. Just curious. When you leave, my foundling might ask me about it.” Liar. The calloused hand gliding up and down your spine brought the original contract you made with him ringing through your skull. One hunt and I’m gone.

“Leave? I’m not going anywhere until I see you tell Karga face to face that I’m rotting in a sarlacc pit. No take-backs. That old dog will probably dance when he hears he won’t have to part with his credits and I want to catch it on holo-corder.”

The rumbling sigh deep in his chest sounded more like an engine powering down than a mortal man, and it told you more than words ever could. The arm you had around his chest was met with strong fingers that intertwined with your own. He doesn’t want me to go. Who are you, Mandalorian?

“Tell me anyway? Please?” His arms tightened like a fortress around you. His words were distant, echoing out from somewhere in dreamland instead of right by your ear. Alright you big softie, if you’re going to beg me. You sighed heavily against him, trying to recall the songs of your distant past. 

“The nights are long between the stars, and lonely too for me,

I wonder how I might have fared with home and family.

But the bonds of friendship I have formed will last my lifetime through,

Security is not for me, my dreams are all of you.”

The same soft snores that had been your original encore with the baby now ghosted in your ear, muffled by the mysterious beskar helmet but still unmistakable. Like father like son. 

The weight of his arms around you was like nothing you had ever felt in your years on the run. You had traveled so far and met so many living beings but not once had you let another share your bed while you slept. You could get used to this. The thought was the last you had before sleep overtook you, your body slumping against his while you dreamed of silver and steel.

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[hankwritten]

The Weight of Other People’s Thoughts

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for @lilythedragon05, Scotland

It was a bad idea to follow that tugging cord at the center of his being, the one that called him to Ullapool, and he never would have dared to entertain it if he knew it would have brought him here.

Jane sat by the ocean, stone’s throw from the town, but his distasteful frown kept his eyes locked firmly ahead instead of gazing dubiously at it. What had he been thinking? Coming to Ullapool had only make him feel worse, not better, a smirch against Tavish’s memory if there ever was one. Rubbing in Tavish’s face that he’d never go home again—and here Jane was, free to frolic across the whole damn planet, even if it took him to stupid countries ending in ‘land’.

He leaned further over his knees, barely feeling the sea breeze as he thought about his dead friend.

His murdered friend, he reminded himself. Murdered by someone who he thought he could trust, who now had to carry that guilt with him for the rest of his life.

Everywhere Jane looked it reminded him of Tavish. Maybe that’s why he’d come: self-flagellation. Appropriate punishment. Or maybe he was so desperate not to forget, he’d take the pain that came with remembering. Torturing himself truly, since he could look on the hills and surrounding coast that he had once only known through enthusiastic descriptions, see for himself the places where a young Tavish had played with dummy-grenades. He could imagine him talking to the local shopkeeps. He could practically see him walking up this very path, groceries in one hand, a newspaper filled with fried fish in the other as he took a large bite out of it-

Wait.

Tavish stopped dead, his face enveloped in utter shock. Still mid-chew, he said, “Jdra-ne?”

Jane leapt to his feet. “Apparition!” He pointed an accusing finger at the offending spirit. “Do not think for a second I will be cowed into repentance by the spectral manifestation of my guilt!”

Tavish nearly choked as he tried to swallow his bite of fish. “I…what?”

“Ghosts serve no purpose on my journey to recovery,” Jane continued. “Not even ones that look like my dead friend! Be gone creature of the other world!”

“What I- I’m not bloody dead.”

Jane squinted at him. He definitely didn’t look dead, totally opaque, no fettered chains representing his sins in life and his guilt over failing to help his fellow Man.

“…Are you sure?” Jane pressed.

“You’d think someone would know if they were dead,” Tavish grumbled poignantly, now glaring at Jane for some reason.

“I killed you though. It was-” -pickaxe right through the sternum, crushing, all the red bits coming out when they should have been in- “That was definitely fatal.”

“Aye, was, but I managed to limp my was back into Respawn range. Took a better part of an hour, but I made it.”

There was something odd to Tavish’s voice, something he wasn’t saying, but the realization that he might actually-seriously-really be alive was starting to set in and Jane was too afraid to believe it.

He took a step closer, past the bench he’d been enjoying his solitude at and completing a full circle around the Demoman. Tavish’s head followed him all the while, up until Jane came to a stop in front of him. “…Promise you are not a ghost?”

“I’m not a ghost,” Tavish said, as convincingly honest as he’d always been. Not that his acting skills hadn’t covered for his mendacity before-

-no, no that was a trick, it all turned out to be a lie a damn lie-

“Fine then. You’re not.” Though Jane would keep his eyes peeled for phantasmal anyway. “What the hell are you doing here then?”

“I live here,” Tavish huffed. “Gravel Wars are over, wasn’t going to spend the rest of my years in some blighted desert. Better question is what are you doing here, yank?”

Crap. Well, maybe a half-truth would suffice. “You always talked so much about Scotland I thought…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

Tavish stood there, one hand still clasped around his groceries. The moment dragged on, vast seas of unsaid things between them, of regrets still festering, to which he ended with, “would you like me to show you around?”

Jane looked down, trying not to stare at his shoes but instead at the foreign soil around them. “…Sure. Why not.”

“Everything is incredibly vertical,” Jane complained as they climbed up yet another hill Tavish insisted was part of the journey.

“Aye, that’s why they call it the Highlands, BLU.”

Jane hated how fucking smug he sounded. Hated, and missed it all the same, missed how this bastard could set a fire in his gut just with one of his damn smiles.

“And there she is,” the Demoman said proudly as the crested the final ridge.

“Damn. Really went to crap in the last couple centuries.”

“Oi, don’t point fingers at me! I’ve only been around for forty of those.”

DeGroot Keep was shriveled and hunchbacked since Jane had last seen it, folding under its own legacy as ages had eaten the tallest spires first and chewed its way down to the cob. Still, he could just make out the choke points, the parapets, the places he used to go charging into with his mêlée weapon held high—all sanded down by the years, the vaguest memories of control points where a portal in time had briefly allowed Jane to witness their existence.

“So what,” he asked, following Tavish into the slight dip in the Highlands where the Keep nestled, “you live in here like some sort of anti-Italian?”

“An anti- what now?”

“Anti-Italians! Despises sun, allergic to garlic, doesn’t show up in mirrors, no sex life. Basic literary reference, RED.”

Tavish rolled his eye. “No, I’m not squatting in the dilapidated castle. Got a perfectly nice home down in the village, I just happen to have inherited this along with…all the other crap.” He waved his hand. “I’ve considered shelling out to having it restored but…dunno. Seeing it go from its heyday to this makes me think that in another couple hundred years it’ll just fall apart again.”

He sat on a piece of tumbled rock, one that used to hang over the Keep’s gate, a bright and shining keystone now used as a stool. Jane joined him.

“Don’t get much of this at home, do you? Old crap. Yer country’s still a wee babe you know, nothing’s even falling apart yet.”

“Incorrect!” Jane amended. “There are plenty of old things in America!”

“For last time lad, Thomas Edison wasn’t immortal, and he didn’t be build a second Shangri-La under Pennsylvania Avenue.”

“Your statements reveal both your ignorance and your compunction, but I was actually talking about mounds.”

“Mounds,” Tavish repeated dubiously.

“Yes! Mounds! Fourteen hundred years ago Americans were building ceremonial mounds in order to track celestial events! They look like animals from the top, lynx, bears, fish, all that crap. I used to walk next to this bird one every day on the way to school.”

Tavish blinked at him, tilting his head. “No offense Jane, but including Native people usually isn’t in your worldview. Where’d you even learn all ‘o that?”

“My mother taught me, so think insinuating more cyclops—lest you show disrespect against her memory and I am forced to take out your other socket!”

Tavish raised his hands defensively, but there was a smile creeping at the corner. “Alright, alright, I get ye. A Mum’s honor is a serious thing.”

“Hm. Good.” Jane glanced ahead, suddenly afraid of lapsing back into silence, as though Tavish would start to slip away from him if they did. “How is your mother?”

“Ah…she passed some years back.”

“…I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright.” Tavish paused. “I still see her sometimes.”

“Metaphorically or…?”

Tavish glanced at him, but then away just a quickly, as though frightened of what he might see. “I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright with you.” Instead, he stared ahead, the sun setting between its cradle within the mountains. “Heh. At least there’s something that’s the same no matter where you go. Always a sunset.”

“Guess so.”

Still, Jane found he liked this one better than the ones back home. At least, better than all the ones he’d seen before he’d met Tavish.

The next day was spent in the village, and Jane couldn’t help but yearn for more of Tavish’s time, more of his attention. His friend. His friend who was still alive. Tavish had a kind word for every person they passed, all of whom didn’t seem to notice Jane at all, simply starting up a conversation with their fellow local and submitting to the rhythm of the morning. Breakfast was some sort of potato scone, but Jane wasn’t hungry, so he just walked beside Tavish as the other man ate. They found themselves at the same bench where they’d first run into each other.

“So,” Tavish asked. “Ullapool everything you thought it would be?”

“Hm. It’s…nice. It is obviously not perfect for geographical reasons entirely outside of its control, but. I understand how it made you the man you are.”

“Me? Nah.” Tavish wiped off his mouth with his sleeve. “I made myself like this.”

Again, he wouldn’t look at Jane, wouldn’t say what they were both thinking. That things had gone wrong, that they had both fucked up. One of them more than the other, but Jane had found him again, and maybe they could still figure something out, still have time to unearth all that they had deemed too dangerous and buried in the sand.

Jane reached forward, and put his hand over where Tavish’s was resting on the bench.

And watched it pass straight through.

Jane sprang away. “I knew it! I knew you were a ghost!”

Likewise, Tavish stood up sharply. “I am not. I bloody told you I was’t.”

“Liar! I will not be swayed by any more perjury from your ethereal mouth!”

“I’m not lying!” Tavish snarled at him, his eye dark and narrowed, burning hotter than the words would imply. “I never lied. I never wanted any of-”

“Blasphemy!”

“Would you just listen for-!”

“You cannot guilt me apparition! For I know that-”

“Shut up! Just fucking shut up!” Tavish’s fist closed around the neck of his scrumpy bottle, half drained before noon, and threw it full force at Jane’s head.

Jane raised an arm to block the incoming blow, but the impact never arrived. A second ticked by, then two, then three, and slowly he lowered his forearm to reveal the panting Demoman behind it, shoulders heaving and an inscrutable expression tearing across his features.

“How’s that for the truth you bleeding idiot,” he said.

Jane looked to Tavish, then rotated his neck slowly, staring at the bottle that had landed in the grass behind him. He blinked, willing what he was looking at to make sense, to suddenly disappear and go back to where things were a second ago. To believe he hadn’t seen that bottle connected with his own nose.

There was something he didn’t want to do, but he did it anyway, turning his gaze forward inch by agonizing inch, staring down at his own hands. Fully taking how translucent they were.

The moment shattered, Tavish tore his eye away. “Fuck. Fuck I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve…”

Jane was still looking at his hands. There was panic, deep and overwhelming rising within him, but there was no raised pulse to accompany it, no sweat on the back of his neck.

He lifted his chin to Tavish. “What? I don’t…”

“I didn’t die,” Tavish said thickly. “You did. I killed you and I walked off and you just bled out for who knows how long and-”

-the pickaxe but also a sword, just as deadly buried two feet into his chest and the man above him trying to shove it in a few extra inches, strangled screaming as it pushed deeper-

Jane hadn’t been paying attention to the last half of Tavish’s muttered confession. The Demoman was crying now, pawing furiously at his one lone eye as stared out valley below them, looking anywhere but at Jane as his sclera turned red.

“I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “Christ Jane I’m so fucking sorry. If you came to haunt me or whatever I just- I just want you to know that you can’t hate me more than I hate myself. That it’s been killing me every day since.”

He collapsed on the bench, curling away from Jane as he buried his face in his hands.

It could have been some sort of trick. A ghost bottle or…no Jane wouldn’t even try. He attempted to remember what flight he had come in on but couldn’t. He grasped for how many years since the Gravel Wars had ended, and couldn’t find the answer.

Jane was a ghost, yet everything still hurt as much as it had when he had lived. Immaterial, and he still so badly wanted to touch Tavish’s hand.

He sat on the bench next to him. “I didn’t come to make you feel bad, Tavish.”

“Then why did you come?” It sounded like it was meant to be venomous, but instead it only sounded empty—empty and wet with tears, like a plastic bag trampled into a puddle.

Jane looked down at his hands. His useless, ghost hands that he could still knit together. “I…I wanted to see you,” he said truthfully. “I missed you.”

Tavish looked at him, bleary-eyed. He whispered, “I missed you too. So damn much.”

“Whatever I was doing before, I missed you enough to come here. To someplace I thought you would be.”

A panicked jolt crossed Tavish’s face. “You’re not leaving, are you?” The same man who a moment ago thought Jane had come to smother him with guilt was despondent at the idea that Jane might go after all, that he wouldn’t get a chance to hurt himself with his own regret anymore.

“No, no not yet,” Jane said. He tried his best to wrap and arm around Tavish’s shoulder. The mortal shivered where their skin met.

“Okay,” Tavish said quietly. “Okay. Good. Thank you. I don’t think I can…When I saw you sitting up here I couldn’t believe it could be fore something good. That the only reason you’d want to haunt me would be because you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

It was true. Even though he remembered now, remember lying there, thinking how they’d killed each other, Jane had only ever hated the man who’d believed the TV’s lies.

“I really did come because I was thinking of you. Missing you.” Jane paused. “Today was fun. I’m sure you have a lot of other places to show me, right private?”

“…Sure. Sure whatever you want.” Tavish wiped at his nose. “I’m sorry Jane.”

“It’s alright Tavish.” He held his head in the crook of Tavish’s neck. “I’m sorry too.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

17 chosen and 20 lunar for Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go!

Lieutenants Log, stardate 10015, Joseph Stern recording

We’ve finally arrived at an agreement with the Aquariads, the species who control this moon. They will allow our research team unfettered access to the planet, but at an odd price. They requested one of our crew agree to be married off to a high ranking member of their governing council. 

I suspect, but cannot prove, that this is not a desirable being to be married to. He’s a revered seer, and yet they’re willing to couple him to a human and not one of their own? Suspicious.

Myself and the other single members of the crew were all given extensive questionnaires on everything from our sexual preferences to our daily habits. It took me a good hour and a half to finish it. 

After a full earth day of waiting, we received word that chief astrobotanist Duck Newton was the chosen human. I have no idea how this happened, as Duck has little tolerance for what he views as “woo-woo” things like precognition. But he was chosen all the same. 

Because this is Duck, he grumbled a bit, but cheered up when he learned he would only be required to stay with his new husband for three weeks before joining us on our field word, and that we can send him specimens for identification and research. If we decide Aquaria is the planet we’ve been looking for and establish more permanent research stations here, Duck will be expected to spend at least a few days a month with the seer. Mama made it clear that if the idea was truly not something he could agree to, she would call the deal off and we could try another approach. Duck said that wouldn’t be necessary, and that he could think of far worse things they could have asked of us. 

We deposit him at the seers home tomorrow. After that, we begin our exploration of Aquaria, fourth moon of the plant Oceana and (hopefully) the home of the antidote we’ve been searching for. 

Joseph Stern, Lieutenant on the spaceship Amnesty, signing off.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Duck waves to the skiff as it pulls away, his planetside bag slung over his shoulder. There’s only one way to go; down the single stone levee, decorated with beautiful tiles, to the massive mansion at the end. 

It reminds him of the photos of Venice he’s seen in old National Geographics, beautiful buildings floating atop a planet of water. He knows Aquaria has islands, but the majority of it’s cities are on or near the water because most of its residents live beneath the waves. They remind Duck of mermaids, with scaled tails and fins giving way to humanoid upper bodies and faces. As far as creatures to get politically married off to, he could be staring down worse. 

There’s still the problem of not knowing why this mer is off by himself and without a partner. Or, as becomes obvious once Duck is inside, any company at all. The other high-ranking aquariads they’ve met come with miles of attendants; here there’s only the high, curved ceilings and rippling water. Maybe the guy is shy? Or maybe he’s a dick? Or just real fucking scary to look at?

As he walks further into the house, he notices the tiled walls are covered in striking murals that, when coupled with the odd half-light allowed in by the green glass windows, makes him feel as though he’s wandering through a dream. The pools and canals criss-cross the floor, and really the ground is more water than concrete, the fact he’s able to walk at all is a concession to the fact some aquariads evolved to be land dwelling. 

A splash makes him turn, and in the pool to his right a black fin cuts the water. He steels himself to not insult the alien he’s now legally attached to. The figure rises from the water, setting his arms on the edge of the stony floor and Duck steps back as a wide, toothy smile appears in an angular face. 

“Hello, Duck Newton.” His tail is the same black as his fin, and his silver hair is tucked behind ears of the same color, which Duck has learned can fan out as a way of communicating. 

“Uh, hi. You must be-”

“Indrid Cold, yes. Apologies, a peril of my profession is that I will always be a little bit ahead.”

“Right. So, uh, guess we’re gonna be seein a lot of each other the next couple of weeks.” He aims for a joking, nonchalant tone. 

“Yes, as we’re married.” He cocks his head, confused, then grins brighter, “Oh, oh I see, you are attempting levity because this is all very awkward. I, ah, I appreciate that. Here, let me show you where you’ll be staying” Indrid pushes off the wall, swimming gracefully on his back as Duck follows him down the hall. The center of the house has more skylights, allowing him to see that his host’s fins aren’t pure black; small silver and white dots are scattered across it. He wonders if he could find constellations in them.

“Here we are.” Indrid gestures to a room, one where the only water is in the form of two deep blue half-circles on the left and right walls. The center of the room is a large bed, linens gleaming whites and pale greens, and the skylight nestles against a chandelier of finely detailed rosey glass. 

“Holy shit.” Duck sets his bag down on a trunk near the door.

“Do you like it?” A flash of yellow up Indrid’s fin, echoed in the dots on his tail.

“I mean, anythin looks ritzy after months on a spaceship but” he turns, smiles, “yeah, I do. Thanks for giving me such nice digs.”

“You are most welcome. Now, this room is designed to give guests privacy. See that red panel on the wall? If you press it, it opens the pool on that side up to the rest of the house, allowing myself or servants to come in and help you.”

“So you do have staff.”

“They’re, ah, more like errand folk. None live here.” Indrid clears his throat, “I can show you the rest of the house, although if you need to sleep I can let you be. I am, ah, not entirely clear on where your internal clock sits now.”

“Aquaria’s days are about four days longer than earth’s, so I ain’t too thrown off. Happy to see more of the place.”

Indrid nods, and Duck follows him out of the bedroom. Most of the other rooms they pass are sparse squares of walkways and still water, under which lies the parts of the house Indrid uses. When they reach Indrid’s quarters, he spots what looks to be an artists’ studio under the clear blue water. 

“You paint?” He kneels and peers down for a better look, Indrid bobbing nearby. 

“Indeed. Art helps me make sense of my visions, and I enjoy it besides. In fact, all the murals you see in this house are my doing. There are even more under water.”

“Damn, that’s fuckin incredible. If I get my SCUBA gear rigged up, maybe I can get a tour?”

“Scu--oh, yes, an underwater breathing apparatus. We have a much smaller device that can help you breathe and sea down here” he dips his head at the pool, “unfortunately, the one I commissioned for you will not arrive until close to the end of your stay. They, ah, did not give me much time to prepare. Hence the lack of many comforts I might otherwise give, as well as places for you to and I to talk, eat or do, ah, other activities together.” The yellow intermittently flashing up his fin gives way to a burst of pink. 

Oh, right. Duck pulls up his infopad (given a generous waterproofing treatment prior to his leaving Amnesty) and opens the contract he signed. 

“Yeah. About that. Says here they expect us to, uh, ‘consummate’ the marriage.”

“I’m aware” Indrid’s voice creeps up.

“Do you...wanna do that now?” He spins a finger in the water.

“I, ah, I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, seems like we could just get it outta the way, rather than have the fact we gotta fuck someone we didn’t pick hangin over our heads?” 

“This...this is not at all how I wanted this to go.” 

Duck looks up and immediately wishes he could reverse time; Indrid looks genuinely hurt, ears flicked back like a scolded dog. 

“Duck I, ah, well, you did not choose me, that is true. But I chose you.”

“Well, fuck.” He sits down with a heavy sigh, “figured some big wigs used those surveys to pick me out. Guess what they say about assumin things is true.”

“.....”

“It makes an ass outta you and me?”

Indrid blinks, then snickers, “Your humor is part of why I chose you. It is very bad, but also extremely good.”

“Glad you think so. Pretty sure Mama was ready to blow me out the airlock for some of the ones I made on the way here.” He knows he’s dodging the conversation they should be having, but how the fuck is he supposed to respond when an alien mermaid tells him he picked him to be his husband?

Indrid swims over so he can rest his arms and chin on the stone, glancing shyly up at Duck as he says, “I suppose I also made an ass of myself, as you would say, by assuming you would not see this as an obligation.”

“I mean, even if you chose me, don’t this feel like an obligation to you?”

“No. For me, it is a reminder that most of my kind are too afraid of me to even give me a chance to court them. And that the council thinks I will get into too much trouble without someone to distract me now and then, and decides the company I am worthy of is an alien explorer with no interest in me.”

“I mean, the only reason we agreed to this is because there might be a plant on Aquaria that can treat the illness runnin rampant back home. So at least it’s for a good cause?”

Indrid flicks his ears, red running up his fin, “What you are doing is noble. What I am doing is being used as a way to keep your exploration team in line.”

Duck winces, “Fuck, I’m, uh, I’m just gonna stop talkin now.”

For an agonizing five minutes they sit there in silence, contemplating their situation and stealing glances at each other. Duck always tried to do the right thing, tried to live an honest life and treat the people in it with respect. He’s been kind and polite to beings up and down the galaxy. He can extend some of that to his own husband, can’t he?

“Indrid?”

The alien raises his head.

“Can we start over?”

“Yes. But I do not see how-”

Duck holds out his hand, “Name’s Duck. Thanks for invitin me in and lookin after me the few weeks.”

Indrid’s smile widens as he understands the game, and he takes the human’s hand, “A pleasure to meet you. I am Indrid, seer to the court of Aquaria, and your anxious husband in spite of the now-changing, much more pleasant futures.”

They finish their tour, the humid air less stifling in the wake of their confessions. Indrid shows him the kitchen, the sitting room, and the gardens which, to Duck’s delight, are as much above the water as below. 

After that, Indrid excuses himself to attend to seer duties and Duck goes back to his room to unpack. As he’s putting away his toothbrush and razor near a large, elaborate tub carved from golden stone, one of Indrid’s admissions from earlier floats through his mind, bobbing there like a buoy until he gets a chance to ask it.

When they’re in the gardens, Duck taking notes as Indrid dives and surfaces with new things to show him, the human slips his feet into the water and says, “Indrid? You said my offerin to fuck you wasn’t what you wanted. What, uh, what did you want?” 

The alien blinks, slowly, pink and teal flashing in his tail, “It is a bit silly in retrospect, but since I knew we would not have time for a proper human marriage courtship, I thought I could mimic the process leading to a one night stand; that way you would be romanced in a manner that made you both comfortable with me and the concept of sex with a relative stranger.” 

Duck chuckles, “Always wild to find out how human stuff gets interpreted by the rest of the galaxy. How’d you even come up with what you were gonna do?”

Indrid crosses his arms, mock affronted, “I will have you know I have seen a great deal of human media, courtesy of our minister of defense.”

“Oh yeah?” Duck shifts onto his stomach, sends a small splash Indrid’s way, “what was this night gonna involve, then?”

“Food, dim and therefore, apparently, romantic lighting, dancing to sensual music, and then hopefully some kissing.” The pink in his tail intensifies, “and then working out exactly how to have sex human.”

The mixture of enthusiasm and being utterly out of his element charms Duck to no end; not to mention it’s the most thought someone’s put into a hook-up with him in the last three years. 

“Seems to me you got the gist of it. Though I really wanna know what you picked out for ‘sensual music.’”

A playful glint enters Indrid’s glowing eyes, “I will show you, but we must go through the whole evening, otherwise it will seem like a disjointed choice. With, ah, with the understanding that you are not obligated to kiss me at the end.

“You got a deal.”

“Wonderful” Indrid claps his hands together, “wait right here.”

Indrid disappears in a whoosh of black and silver. When he returns, he hoists six opaque domes onto the floor in front of Duck, “I initially planned to eat in the sitting room, but you like this room much better, so we can have dinner here.” With that, he double-taps the top of each dome, revealing a confusing buffet. 

“Uh, are those french fries?”

“Yes. You are from the United States of America, and so I chose foods that would make you feel at home.” Indrid points to each plate in turn, “french fries, steak, a turkey with cranberries, lobster, macaroni with cheese, and an apple pie.”

The pie is covered with an odd, yellow meringue, the turkey is the size of a quail, and the black shell suggests this is not a kind of lobster he’s eaten before, but Duck can’t stop smiling.

“Also I took care to be sure none of the necessary substitutions were poisonous to you.”

“Thanks, Indrid.” He means it; in their travels they’ve learned it’s not only humans who think everyone lives and eats exactly the way they do.

Everything except the french fries tastes strange but he finds the meal, like it’s orchestrator, intriguing in it’s oddity. Indrid brings two cool, white bottles from below, offers Duck tastes of each. One is like the celery soda he drank on a dare, the other like root beer if it wasn’t gross. He keeps the second one next to him as the meal progresses, Indrid asking him all kinds of questions about botany and himself. When dinner is over, Indrid guides him two rooms over, grinning excitedly. 

“I will start the music; one moment.” 

A few seconds after he dives, a chrome cylinder descends from the ceiling and music fills the air.

Ninety-nine red balloons

Floating in the summer sky

Panic bells, it's red alert!

There's something here from somewhere else!

He giggles, sits down so it’s easier to call, “Indrid? Not sure you got the right song bud.”

A silver-haired head pops up, “Not romantic?”

“Nope.”

“Hmmmm” He lifts a small, white rectangle and the song changes. 

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

He's in the army now, a blowin' reveille

He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B

“N-not quite” The laugh is stronger now.

“Drat. How about….”

I threw a wish in the well, don't ask me, I'll never tell

I looked to you as it fell and now you're in my way 

Indrid looks hopefully at him.

“Ain’t what I’d call sensual, but you’d hear it at the kind of place you’d pick up a date.”

The alien beams, starts shifting back and forth to the beat, “shall we dance?”

Duck blushes, pretends he doesn’t know why, “Uh, probably should have said this earlier, but I ain’t much of a dancer.”

Indrid swims to him, stopping close enough that Duck can see the lines on his face that reveal they’re close in age, “That’s alright. Sometimes conversing while having a drink is acceptable behavior, correct?”

“Yeah.” Duck doesn’t bother to hide how intently he’s watching as Indrid dives, his form elegant and ethereal beneath the water. 

They sit sipping a hard cider that tastes of papaya and flowers instead of apples until the three other moons glow bright in the skylight. Duck yawns, and excuses himself for the night. 

“Thanks for a great evenin, Indrid.”

“You are most welcome. A pity I could not make the music work.”

He’s here for another three weeks at least. And Indrid is floating through the darkening water like a dream he’s tempted to chase.

“Guess you’ll just have to try again.” Duck winks. 

Indrid’s ears frill slightly and he flashes bright purple, “Yes, my dear husband, I suppose I will.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s routine is not the one he usually has while docked on a planet. Every day for the last week, he wakes up, joins Indrid for a leisurely swim, works on his research, and then spends his evening with a weirdly cute alien trying to accurately recreate the earth dating experience for him. 

The second night, he asked if Indrid would bring him some of his favorites for their next meal. The steamed coconut crab was a hit. The mantis-squid served still swimming, less so. From then on, when Indrid put in his food orders to the cooks at the main court, it was for a mixture of earth and Aquariad dishes, each one leading him or Indrid to share an anecdote from their time on their home planet. 

For the last two nights, he’s lifted the partitions on the pools in his room so Indrid can talk with him until neither of them can keep their eyes open. He wonders if it would be rude to ask him to stay, to sleep in such a small space just so he could be the first thing Duck sees when he wakes up.

There must be floating beds he could put in Indrid’s room, or maybe a hammock he could hang in the garden. 

Duck now understands that Indrid’s powers make him politically valuable, but also mean his fellow residents of the lunar city see him as dangerous, as knowing things they’d rather keep secret. Duck understands, especially if their only time encountering the seer is when he glides his formidable, dark body from the depths of his inner sanctum. But all he can see is his Indrid, awkward and well-meaning, whose fear of Duck disliking him has given way to genuine affection. His Indrid, who now pulls himself up onto the stones so they can sit shoulder to shoulder after breakfast or before dinner, whose tail Duck’s fingers beg to caress. 

His Indrid who is, at this moment, continuing his losing battle with earth music. 

“How about this?”

Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen

Thank you for all the joy and pain

“Oh fuck no” Duck guffaws, “anything but him, ‘Drid, he’s a boner killer if there ever was one.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad,  but I will be speaking to Vincent about his human music suggestions.”

“For the love of god, turn it off.” Duck flails for the remote.

Indrid sticks out his tongue, “Very well, but I am this close to pulling you down here and seeing if you can do any better.”

“You wouldn’t dare” Duck is still laughing, eyes closing as he does, which means he gets only a splash of warning before he’s yanked into the pool. He comes up giggling and spluttering, “now, is that any way to treat your husband?”

Indrid’s laugh is a siren song, “No, I suppose not.” The music clicks off as Indrid steadies him by curving his tail behind his legs, “how should I treat you instead?”

Duck drapes his arms over Indrid’s shoulders, “You been treatin me pretty damn well, dunkin me aside.”

A flicker of pink and yellow as Indrid rubs their cheeks together, “And if I wanted to be even better?”

“I, uh, I mean if you wanted to we could tryYYYYohfuck” he hunches forward as Indrid’s tail drags across his dick. The clothing on Aquaria is thin, so he can feel the cool scales tease his skin. 

“Oh, oh dear, apologies, I was only trying to embrace you further, I forgot yours do not stay concealed until they’re needed.”

“You, you keep doin that and it’s gonna be needed real quick.”

“Oh?” red eyes narrow wickedly, “does my sweet husband need attending to?” Another drag of his tail, much more deliberate, and Duck grinds his hips in reply. 

“Only if you want to.”

“I do, so very badly.” Indrid nuzzles his nose, “may I take a little while to acquaint myself with your wonderful body?”

“Uh huh.” Duck tugs his shirt off, throwing it onto the land and then giving his shorts the same treatment. 

“Ohhhhhhyes.” Indrid purrs, fins and tails shimmering purple and gold. Then he sinks down, swimming in a slow, tight circle around the human. Pleased chirps and trills bubble up to Duck’s ears. Cool fingers play along his legs and belly, eventually finding his dick and offering an experimental stroke.

“Fuck” he groans, and Indrid does it again, kissing his navel as both hands rub and tease his dick and folds. Indrid is clearly experimenting, maybe even using his visions to guide him, and Duck eagerness to get off succumbs to just how fucking hot it is to have a partner this enrapt by his body, to have them explore it like some awe-inspiring landscape. 

He spreads his hands out and runs them along Indrid’s torso and tail; the scales are just as wonderful under his fingers as he hoped, and he can feel Indrid sigh happily as he pets him. 

Then lips close around his dick and he makes a series of undignified noises, digging one hand into Indrid’s hair to encourage him. 

“Ohmyfuckinchrist, Indrid, yes, fuck please keep suckin like that.”

Indrid wiggles his whole body in response, happy trill underscored by a firmer suck. Duck can’t get enough of his body beneath his hands, of his mouth on Duck’s skin, and he wonders if someone can black out from how good a blowjob feels. 

Indrid’s fin breaks the water and Duck runs an appreciative thumb along the top. Funny, there’s a little depression between it and the membrane of the fin. Curious, he drags his pinky along it. 

The alien bursts upwards with a loud chirp of joy, “Ohgoodness, yes, oh that feels nice please do it again.”

“Yeah? My cute, needy husband need me to play with his fins to get off.”

“Not, not technically by my gods does he want you to.”

“Don’t worry darlin, I will--uh, ‘Drid? Is, is that your dick?”

Indrid follows his gaze to the thick, bumpy shaft emerging from his tail, it’s tip crowned with short, searching tendrils.

“Yes. Also an ovipositor, hence those lumps.”

“Holyfuck. Uh, I, I ain’t sure I’m ready for that yet.” 

“That’s perfectly alright. Though it does mean my cock is not going into you tonight; I’m not sure I can control my bodily responses enough to avoid ovipositing accidentally.”

“Lots of others things we can do.” Duck bites the tip of one ear, making the other flare out.

“Indeed. I say we start with this.” Indrid’s tail encircles his waist just as Indrid shoves his cock between his thighs.

“Like, like the way you think sugar. Fuuuck, fuck that’s good.” The bumps from the eggs have just the right amount of give as he humps them, Indrid matching his tempo with his thrusts. He keeps his arms around his husbands neck, kissing him furiously. Indrid kisses back with a chirp, gold flashing in his scales, and Duck knows he won’t want to kiss anyone else for a long, long time. 

The tip of Indrid’s cock bumps his ass and he groans at what that suggests about it’s size. 

“I’m, I’m takin this fuckin perfect thing all the way before I go.” He bucks his hips harder to make his point, “gonna let you fuck me open on it, fill me up, wanna know what it’s like to cum with you inside me.”

“Oh gods” Indrid whimpers, hiding his face in Ducks neck as he squeezes his thighs together. 

“And, and you’re gonna be a dutiful fuckin husband and fill me however I say, ain’t you?”

“Yes, yesofcourse, goodness Duck I, I’m-”

“Heh, you like that, mr high and mighty seer likes bein bossed around. Well, lucky you, because now that I know just how fuckin good you are at fuckin me, gonna have you doin it ever, fuckin, day.” He jerks his hips hard, three times, and Indric cums with a cry, cock pulsing as he sinks his teeth into Ducks shoulder. Duck doesn’t let up, chases his orgasm over the bumps and ridges until he nearly whites out with pleasure, clinging to Indrid tighter as his body gives up on supporting him. 

After his cock retracts Indrid, still holding Duck up with ease, swims to the button that orders a cleaning cycle on the pool and deposits the human back on the stone. 

“I dearly hope your team finds what you need on this planet so that I may see you beyond these few weeks.”

“Sex was that good?” Duck teases, petting Indrid’s hair as he lays his head in his lap.

“No. Or, well, yes, but more than that you are so, so very wonderful. I wish to get to know you more, to show you even more of my world and my skill in bed.”

Duck kisses the top of his head, “I hope so too.”

-----------------------------------------

Communication log between leader of Amnesty Mission at Astrobotanist Duck Newton. 

Mama: Got some promising leads. Will be back to pick you up in three days. 

Duck: Glad to hear it. But take your time, no need to rush only my account. 

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Wyvernlair

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Three

A JSE Fanfic

Ta-da! Another chapter! :D This is the one I was talking about, with a lot of worldbuilding and new characters. It’s also one of my longer stories, and I had to cut out a scene near the end, but don’t worry, you’ll see that next time. Now that Chase is officially part of the Masked Phantoms, it’s time for him to get to know the layout of Wyvernlair, meet new people, and learn new things. So get ready for a whole lot of all that. Hope you guys enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It was clear that Jackie was eager to have someone new to show around Wyvernlair. He led the way, pointing out important features of the camp. Most of the center area was taken up by tents for people to stay in. In addition, there was an area dedicated to cooking, with campfires and stacks of pots and dishes, a wide, clear area for people to practice sword fighting and other combat, and a large space for storage.

All this was fairly normal for any camp. Or at least, that’s what Chase figured, considering he’d never been in a camp of any kind. But he was pretty sure that the massive skeleton made Wyvernlair much different than any other camp. Every bit had been planned around the bones embedded in the ground. The tents were encircled by the dragon. The cooking fires were dotted around the leg bones. The combat field was spread out along the wings that extended out from the rest of the body. And the storage was inside the oversized ribcage, canvas stretched over the gaps to keep out the weather.

Inside the ribs was the most incredible place Chase had ever been. He kept his head craned upward, following the curve of the ivory bones, each one big enough that it would take three full grown men to encircle it. The storage inside the ribcage was much less impressive in comparison, though he did have to admit he’d never seen this amount of weapons, armor, parchment, and foodstuffs in one place. Not to mention all the miscellaneous items as well, like lanterns and chests for storage.

“Oh, you need a jacket!” Jackie suddenly said, bringing Chase back to the conversation. “You can take one of the communal ones, over here.” He grabbed Chase’s hand and pulled him to the side of the ribs, where the chests were full of various clothing, each labeled with types and sizes. “Unless you’re a cloak person?”

“Uh, no, I...jackets are good,” Chase said dazedly.

“Great! What are you, a five?” Jackie waited for Chase to nod, then headed over to the appropriate chest. “We don’t have that many fives left...a lot of people have measurements around there.” He flipped open the chest lid. “Um...yeah, there’s just one. Hope you like yellow.” After a bit of rummaging, he pulled out a dull flaxen jacket and tossed it in Chase’s direction.

Chase fumbled for a bit before catching it. It was a fairly normal jacket, and he quickly pulled it on. Autumn in the mountains was not a time to walk around without one. He’d been chilly all through their walk.

“Alright, all that’s left is the skull,” Jackie said. “I don’t know how often you’ll be in there, but it’s good to—”

“I’m sorry, I’m still caught up on the fact that I’m inside a dragon skeleton,” Chase interrupted.

Henrik, who’d been following the tour quietly and letting Jackie do all the talking, suddenly burst into laughter. “I told you. It is shocking, isn’t it?”

“Well...yes!” Chase looked back up at the curve of the ribs above him, slowly shaking his head. “I heard dragons were large, but I didn’t really...picture it, before this.”

“Technically, this is not the skeleton of a full-blooded great dragon,” Henrik said.

“What?”

“The dragon that most people think of, with four legs and two or more wings? That is a great dragon,” Henrik explained. “I’m sure you noticed this one only has two legs; it was likely a wyvern/great dragon crossbreed.”

“Hence the name ‘Wyvernlair,’” Jackie added.

“What’s the difference?” Chase asked.

“Wyverns only had two legs and larger wings. They walked a bit like birds do,” Henrik continued. “And they were usually much smaller. There are some accounts of humans riding them. So this was either an abnormally large wyvern, or it was a crossbreed with the great dragons. Which, yes, could grow as big as this, but that was not so common.”

“Elders,” Chase muttered. The fact that there were once creatures as large as this roaming the land, big enough to encircle half a town...it made him glad they weren’t around anymore.

“It was really lucky that we found this place,” Jackie said. “Not because of the skeleton, but because of its location. There are no trees growing near the bones, so we have room to spread out, and we have our backs to a rock wall, which makes it more defensible.” He paused. “Anyway, the last part on our tour is the skull, and then we can set you up with a tent. Oh, actually, the spare tents are kept here. Let’s grab that now.”

“I get my own?” Chase said, surprised.

“Of course, we have plenty to spare,” Jackie said casually. “We brought a whole bunch up, but recruitment has been slow.”

“Nonexistent,” Henrik muttered. He reached into one of his belt pouches and took out a small flask, taking a quick drink.

“Well...yes,” Jackie admitted. “But let’s go, we’re almost done!”

The skull was just as massive as the rest of the skeleton, with wicked sharp teeth as tall as Chase. He stared at them as Jackie and Henrik led him around to the back, where there was a slight gap where the skull met the spine. They passed through that gap and ended up inside. Much like the ribs, the skull had been converted into a room, with canvas blocking the eye sockets and nasal cavity to make a rough roof. This wasn’t as large as the storage, but it was still at least three times as large as Chase’s cottage. There were more chests in here, and a few rickety desks where people—masks always nearby—sat, reading and writing on parchment. They all glanced up as the three men entered the room, then looked away.

In the middle of the skull was a large circular table, made of solid, dark wood and surrounded by chairs. Various maps were spread out on the surface of the table, held down with weights.

Chase glanced at the largest map, and immediately recognized it as a map of the kingdom of Glasúil. A detailed one, too, covering almost all of the island. The Dragon’s Teeth mountains ran down the center, with the smaller Northaven range branching off to the east, along the northern shore. The Southern Moors were present, slowly merging into the sea. Rivers and forests he’d never heard of crossed the parchment, and each major town and city was represented by a labeled black dot. The only part of the map left blank was the area to the west of the Dragon’s Teeth, which simply had “Wyldwood” written across it.

“Oh hey, you like the maps?” Jackie asked, noticing Chase’s attention. “We use those for planning stuff. A lot of strategy and meetings happen here. This is also where we keep all our records and sort through all our messages with other Phantom locations. Since you’re part of the group now, you’ll eventually go on missions, and if that’s the case, you’ll have to write a report and deliver it here.”

“Missions?” Chase repeated. His head was starting to swim a bit with all the new information.

“Well, if you want to,” Jackie said awkwardly. “I mean, you could stay here and do medicine with Henrik, or be part of our administration—”

“Administration?” This time, Chase laughed a bit when he repeated the word.

“Organization is very important,” Schneep emphasized. “There are a lot of us, and we do a lot of things. If we have no organization then we do not know what we’re doing!”

“Yeah, and those things we do are...missions,” Jackie said.

“Alright, what kind of...missions?” Chase asked.

“Depends. We might need to investigate someplace, or something, or someone. We might need to go in and stop an act of injustice, or rescue people who’ve been hurt.” Jackie paused. “If...if we’d heard about the King’s plans for the mountain villages to burn, then we could have...shown up. In time.”

Chase felt his stomach twist at the mention of the burning villages. There was guilt in Jackie’s voice; he clearly felt awful that the Phantoms couldn’t do anything to prevent that. “Well.” Chase took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to make sure things like that don’t happen again.”

Jackie nodded. Henrik placed a hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to steady him. He drew himself to his full height and stiffened his posture. “Exactly. The King may think he can get away with any of this, just because of his position. But the people will not stand for it. We will not stand for it. As long as his actions cause death and damage, we will work to remove him.”

For a moment, Chase was in awe at the resolve Jackie showed. He wasn’t that physically intimidating, being almost a head shorter than Chase and a head and a half shorter than Henrik, but he had a commanding aura. Maybe the strength of his conviction was catching. “Exactly,” Chase said. “That’s—that’s what I want to do.” His simple statement sounded lame in comparison.

Jackie smiled. “And that’s why we’re so glad to have you.” He relaxed a bit, looking over at Henrik. “And if Schneep likes you, then I do, too.”

Chase couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I-I’m sorry? What did you call him?”

Henrik’s expression fell. He took his hand off Jackie’s shoulder and pushed him with his shoulder. “I told you, stop using that.”

“But it’s so fun to say,” Jackie said cheerfully. “Chase, did you know that Henrik’s surname is Schneeplestein?”

Chase fought to stifle his giggles. Now he remembered that particular fact from his first meeting with Henrik. “That’s—well, I’m sure that’s a usual surname in Alterde—”

“It is not,” Henrik said wearily. “It sounds just as ridiculous over there. Go ahead, laugh about it. Get it out of your mind now.”

“No no, I’m fine, I promise.” Chase coughed a bit, clearing his throat of laughter. “At least you have a surname.”

“Ah, it is common to have one where I am from,” Henrik waved away the comment. “I know here it is a nobility thing, but not in Alterde or its neighbors.”

“Really?” Chase said, interested.

“Really. And it is much easier than your family names,” Henrik said bluntly, turning to leave.

“Hey! Wait for us!” Jackie took Chase’s hand and the two of them followed Henrik out of the dragon’s skull.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Chase? Are you awake?”

The first thing Chase heard when waking up was someone calling his voice. Instinctively, he rolled over and stretched his arm to the right. Only to be met with nothing but empty space. Oh. Right.

He opened his eyes to a canvas wall and ceiling. He’d gotten his tent yesterday, and Jackie had shown him how to set it up in a spot near the dragon spine. From there, the rest of the day had passed slowly. Awkwardly, too, as Chase didn’t feel up to approaching any of the masked people who were part of the Phantoms. It felt...strange. Like he was constantly intruding on something. So he just spent time in his tent, and when dinnertime rolled around, he showed up to get some stew from the cooking fires then went off to eat on his own. Eventually, the sun set, and he figured that was time to go to bed.

“Chase?” The voice called again.

“Henrik?” Chase asked, sitting up and wiggling out of the bedroll he’d been given.

“Oh, you are awake. Can I open the flap?”

“Go ahead.” It wasn’t like he was indecent or anything. He was actually still wearing his clothes from the day before. Maybe he should check out the storage, see if they had anything else he could use.

Henrik pushed open the flap of the tent and ducked inside, pushing his owl mask up onto his forehead. “Ah, good. I have something for you.” He held out a folded piece of parchment.

Puzzled, Chase took it. “What is this?” He asked as he unfolded it.

“Well, now that you are a Phantom, there are some things you need to be familiar with,” Henrik said. “Jackie put together a schedule for you for today.”

Chase silently looked at the words. He blinked. Then squinted. Then looked back up at Henrik. “Um...I’m sorry, but I...can’t read this.”

Henrik didn’t even have a response for that. “You...cannot read?”

“I can, but only a little,” Chase admitted. “I know the alphabet and numbers, but as for words, I can read what I’m familiar with. Food, animal names, archery gear. Things like that.” He trailed off into a mumble, somehow embarrassed. Reading had never been an issue before. Everyone in town knew enough to get by. But now, he wondered...was that not normal?

“That’s okay,” Henrik said, picking up on Chase’s tone. “Jackie was the same way. We had to teach him.” He chuckled a bit at the memory. “I will explain, then. After breakfast, you will meet with Nemet in the infirmary, she will give you a basic medicine check. To see what you know and fill you in on anything you need. Then you will head down to the tip of the tail, and meet a man there called Tripp. I understand you do not know that much about magic, so he will give you an overview. Then there will be lunch, and then you will head to the combat field to start training with Holly and Lukas.”

Chase started. “What was that last name?”

“Lukas,” Henrik repeated. “You will probably be working with him more, since you seem inclined with bows, and not closer combat.”

“Right.” Chase nodded. That name sounded familiar, like he’d heard it recently...

“Then come back for dinner, and I will check up on you,” Henrik continued. “And by then, hopefully you will know what you want to do most in the group. Medicine, organization, and such. And we will get you a temporary mask.”

“So, why masks?” Chase asked. “I like the idea, but...why? Who came up with it?”

“Oh, the mask concept was Jackie’s idea, but the animal part was added by—by someone else,” Henrik said. There was an odd pause there...was he going to say something else? A name, perhaps? “We wear masks so people will not recognize us. Many of us have friends and family who would be at risk if the King’s people knew we were working against him. Like, for me. You know I am a traveling doctor, yes? Well, when I met you last year, I was already working with the Phantoms. Can you imagine what would happen if someone recognized me as a rebel?”

Chase shivered. “Yea, I can.” If the King was willing to burn down the mountain villages for an unknown reason, what would he do to find one of the rebels? With that thought in mind, he slowly stood up. “So...I’ll get started, then. Meeting with all these strangers.”

“Do not be nervous, Chase,” Henrik said gently. “Everyone new we find has to go through something like this. And these are some of our best people.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “That’s good to know.” Still, his stomach was slowly tying itself in knots as he headed towards the cooking fires, about to start the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a quick breakfast of toasted bread—light, but with those stomach knots, still hard to get through—Chase headed up the gentle slope towards the infirmary cave in the rock wall. Slipping through the flap in the canvas, he found it unchanged from the day before, when he’d been discharged. Nobody was inside, except for...

“Ibis?” Chase asked.

“Hello, Chase.” Ibis smiled at him. Her mask was off, revealing her features and round, dark eyes for the first time. “It’s good to see you again. And please, my name is Nemet.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m supposed to meet with you.” That explained why she was standing near the entrance, she was waiting for him.

“Yes, yes.” Nemet nodded. “Henrik has told me to give you a basics in medicine.” She turned and headed towards the back, indicating he should follow. “Come, come. This shouldn’t take too long.”

Nemet had set three chests on top of each other, making a sort of rough chest-height table. On top of the flat surface of the chest-table were a series of bottles and bags, each one neatly labeled. “Here. These are some of our common tonics and medicines we use here. Tell me what you recognize.”

Chase considered the layout before him. There were probably about thirty in total, if he had to guess. “This is for colds, right? And fevers? And this one, too. And these dried leaves, they’re for nausea. Oh, and this will put you to sleep if you put it in water or stew. This is a salve, also for fevers. And this is a balm for sores. And this will stop infection on cuts and scrapes. And...that’s what I know.”

“Impressive,” Nemet nodded.

“Really? That’s only a fraction of the total,” Chase said doubtfully.

“Most people who join up only know redleaf, bainruish, and seedbane.” Nemet indicated each medicine as she listed them. “Fevers, cuts, and...well, I’m sure you know what seedbane is for, even if you said nothing. You are married, after all.” She laughed as Chase slowly turned red. “Ah, my apologies. The point is, you are ahead of most others.”

“Do we really need all of these?” Chase asked, quickly moving on.

“Oh, yes. You know that when people gather together that sicknesses spread easily. Many of these will help to cure a specific disease, while others are a general tonic, like redleaf.” Nemet paused, then picked up about ten of the medicines and put them on the floor. “Henrik says you are not so much caught up on magic, so we will leave these ones out of our discussion for now.”

Chase started at that. The concept of mixing medicine with magic made him...uneasy. He may not know that much about magic, but he knew it could be dangerous. “I was wondering, Nemet, what did you do before you joined the Phantoms? I know Henrik’s a traveling doctor, are you the same?”

“Not exactly.” Nemet shrugged. “I was a student of medicine back home.”

“And where was that?”

“A land called Kha’Nyphthis.” Nemet grinned a bit at Chase’s confused expression. “You would not have heard of it. It is to the south, on another continent, but not the same continent as Henrik’s Alterde. We have great schools and libraries there, the best in the world. I was learning to become a doctor, and had almost finished my schooling, but one of the final requirements was to learn the medicine of another land. I chose here, Glasúil, because you are well-known for your medicine. But then I arrived, and saw the state of things, and...ah, well.” Her expression fell for a moment.

“I’m...sorry,” Chase said awkwardly. “Do you...ever think about going back?”

Nemet nodded briefly. “Of course. I have family, friends. But I cannot just abandon things. It’s not in my nature to leave things unsettled.” She took a deep breath, and moved on. “But as for your basics in medicine, let me start by getting you familiar with the ones you didn’t know.”

It was a while later before Chase left the infirmary, his head feeling stuffed with all the new information Nemet had drilled into him. Already, some of it was starting to slip away. And he immediately knew that he could never be a doctor. If these were the basics, he couldn’t even begin to think about what would be required to complete the training to become one.

But he didn’t have time to let all that new knowledge sink in. Judging by the sun’s position, it was getting close to noon, and to lunch. He still had to meet up with someone else before it was time to eat. So he hurried onward, running along the curve of the dragon’s bones, following them as they got smaller and smaller, until they eventually merged into the packed ground. Chase slowed to a stop and looked around, confused. This was the end of the tail, wasn’t it? So...where was—

“Hey you’re the new one, right?”

Chase yelped and spun around. A man was sitting between the spine bones of the dragon, almost unnoticeable in the shadow between them. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said slowly. “Are you, uh...Tripp?”

The man nodded, hopped to his feet, and walked over to Chase. Standing up, he was short, even shorter than Jackie. He wore a dark brown cloak that reached his knees, and of course, a mask. This one was shaped like a ram’s head, complete with curved horns, and the black symbol on the forehead was actually four different symbols arranged in a diamond formation. After a moment of looking at them, Chase realized they were the suits often used on playing cards. How...odd. The man reached up and took off the mask, ruffling his golden brown hair and revealing dark eyes. “Tripp, son of Seamus,” he said shortly. “And you are...?”

“Chase. Son of Brody,” Chase said automatically. “Henrik told you I was—”

“You’re not up-and-up on magic and need a course, yea,” Tripp interrupted, swinging his mask around his finger. Chase took a step back despite already being far away. If that went flying, those plaster horns would do some damage. “And he asked me to do it ‘cause I’m our second best guy.”

“You’re the—?”

“What do you know already, Brodyson?” Tripp continued. “Ever met a magic-wielder?”

“There were a handful in town—”

“Sorcerer, wizard, enchanter, oracle, witch?”

“I...what?” Chase blinked. “I...think they were all sorcerers.”

“How many?”

“Only a handful, about six or seven?”

“For a village of four hundred or so people?” Tripp laughed. “Everyone must’ve been magically impotent.”

“Could you slow down?!” Chase snapped. “I thought you were supposed to teach me about magic, not make fun of me for not knowing anything!”

Tripp paused. Then grinned. “It’s just banter, Brodyson. I didn’t mean offense. But hey, you called me out. Good on you for that. My apologies.” His grin faded. “But I’m not jokin’ about that. There should’ve been at least four times that number of magic-wielders in a town that size. What happened? Were the seekers bein’ lazy for the past few years?”

“...Seekers?” Chase repeated, puzzled.

Tripp looked up at the sky. “Oh, elders. They haven’t been showin’ up at all, have they? If you don’t even know about them—alright, we’ll start from the beginning, then.” He sat down on the ground, folding his legs under him. Slowly, Chase sat down across from him. “You know of the five branches, right? I’m pretty sure everyone in the world’s at least heard their names.”

“Yes,” Chase said, nodding. Wizards, sorcerers, enchanters, oracles, and witches. He mostly heard about them in stories, and was especially fuzzy on the details about those last three.

“A common mistake people make is thinkin’ these are all different things.” Tripp started drawing in the dirt with his finger. “When really, all magic is the same. It’s like a tree—just because each branch might look different, doesn’t mean they don’t all come from the same trunk.” And, in keeping with that metaphor, he drew a rough outline of a tree with five different branches. “All magics can work with each other, and there’s a lot of similarities in between them. For example, do you know the difference between wizardry and sorcery? They’re the two most well-known of the branches.”

“Um...if I’m being honest, I’d always been under the impression that wizardry was more powerful,” Chase said tentatively.

Tripp snorted in disbelief. “Some wizards would like to think that. But no. More varied, yes. But not more powerful. Here, it’ll be easier if I go over them all one by one.” He started to draw symbols by each of the branches, starting with a crude stick figure. “Sorcery is the most common magic besides witchcraft. It crops up in people at random. If you got twenty-five people in a room together, one would probably be a sorcerer, even if they didn’t know it. Its source is inside the person themself. And what it does is manipulate the world. Like...this.”

He pressed a flat hand against the ground next to him. After a moment, the dirt started to move. Then suddenly, pillars of rock shot through the dirt, rising from underneath the surface. Chase gaped as the solid stone started to twist, winding around each other to form a braid of rock. Then Tripp removed his hand, and the rock froze, as if it had never been moving in the first place. For a moment, Chase was stunned, then he managed to ask, “S-so you’re a sorcerer, then?”

“Exactly,” Tripp grinned. “Why d’you look so surprised? You said you knew sorcerers before.”

“Well...yes, but I hadn’t...seen their magic too much,” Chase admitted. He remembered one time when Gwen, the weaver’s daughter, had pulled water out of the well. It just streamed out of the depths and sailed right into her bucket. But occasions like that were few and far between.

“Hmm.” Tripp scrunched his face up, thinking. “Well, besides that. Each branch of magic has its strengths and weaknesses. Sorcery’s strength is that it comes from within. As long as a sorcerer doesn’t drain too much energy, they can use their magic forever. And its weakness is that you need a material to manipulate. Like just now, I reached down and pulled rock up from underground. But there’s a limit to the range where your magic can affect things.”

Chase nodded. “What about wizardry, then?”

Tripp sketched a rough outline of a necklace next to another branch of the tree. “Its strength is its variety. Wizards aren’t limited by what things are present, they can conjure out of thin air. But its weakness is in this: the ‘focus.’” He tapped the necklace drawing. “Unlike sorcery, wizardry doesn’t come from within. Wizards are channelin’ it from outside, from the layer of magic that coats the world. But to do so, they need a specially-made thing called a focus. It’s usually a necklace, ‘cause that’s handy, but it can be any shape, as long as it’s made the right way. These dragon bones, for example. They’d be real good to make focuses with.” He knocked on the nearest bone. “About one in fifty people are able to channel wizardry.”

“And now we reach the end of my knowledge,” Chase mutters. “What’s the next most common?”

Tripp paused. “Enchantment.” The image he drew in the dirt now was a misshapen lump. “Damn. That’s supposed to be a brain.”

“Ah. Right. Because enchantment is the magic of the mind, isn’t it?” Chase recalled, casting his memories back to the stories he’d heard that included enchanters.

“Hmm. Yea.” Tripp pursed his lips. “How do I explain them...Well, strengths. They’re the only magic that can work with your mind. Illusions, talking in your head, things like that. But as for their weaknesses, enchanters can’t change the world for real.”

“Is it true that enchanters can control your actions?” Chase asked. “There’s a story, the Dark Damoen—”

“The crazy old man who made Erinthold worship him as a god? That’s a famous one.” Tripp nodded. “Well, it’s true. Some could change your thoughts and make you do things you wouldn’t. But that takes a lot of power, and besides, most enchanters are decent people, like all the rest of us. It’s just that we remember the bad ones because they shock us. And only about one in a hundred people are enchanters, anyway. Don’t worry about it. There are a few Masked Phantoms who are enchanters.”

Chase nodded slowly. The thought of the old story sent shivers down his back, but he should probably trust the magic-wielder. He clearly knew more “What about...the oracles?”

Tripp drew a symbol of an eye in the dirt. “Those are the rarest one. You only get an oracle one in a thousand, if you’re lucky, and they’re not usually that powerful. You’ve probably heard that they issue prophecies of what’s to come, or that they might even be able to manipulate time itself. Well that’s all bullshit.”

“Wh—” Chase was so surprised at the frankness that he choked on his own gasp. After a few moments of coughing, he continued in a hoarse voice. “What do you mean?”

“Oracles can’t manipulate time, that’s the most insane rumor goin’ round about magic there ever was,” Tripp stated. “They get visions of what’s most likely to happen. It’s not for sure, and really, most oracles are wrong. But huge strength there, knowing the most likely future. And it comes with a big weakness. A couple, actually. One, they have to speak their visions out loud while it’s happenin’. It’s a magic...what’s the word?” He snapped his fingers for a bit. “Compulsion. That’s it. They’re literally forced to do it, can’t stop that. And two, the visions are all they can do. They have no other magic. And because of that, some say that oracles are cursed, not gifted.”

Chase thought about that. If he had the choice, would he take knowing the future for being forced to share it? Maybe. Maybe if he knew what could happen next, he could stop terrible things. Like...his heart panged, and he shied away from the thought. No, that didn’t sound too bad. People would also know what the future held, what of it? He’d take that risk.

“And the last magic,” Tripp said, snapping Chase out of his thoughts. “Witchcraft. It’s actually the most common.”

“Really?” Chase said doubtfully.

“I bet you’re goin’ by the stories, where witches are old people that stay in shacks and give out potions,” Tripp said, drawing a bottle next to the final branch. “But really, the magic of witchcraft isn’t in people, like all the others. It’s in the land. It’s part of the world’s magic. Plants with strange properties, the parts of magical animals...these can be mixed together to create amazing effects. And anyone could learn how to do it. In fact, most of us here have.”

Chase suddenly remembered earlier, how Nemet had put away some of the medicines during their meeting. It was because he didn’t know much about magic...“Wait, you mean anyone could make potions? Become a witch?”

“Well, not anyone,” Tripp muttered. “If you have magic of your own, you can’t learn witchcraft. The knowledge just slips away, and if we try anyway, nothing works, even if it should. You can’t use more than one magic. It’d be like tryin’ to hold onto every single branch of a tree.”

“If the tree was small, though?” Chase joked.

“It’s not. The magic tree is big, and the branches are the type where you need to hold on with both hands,” Tripp said firmly.

“Oh. I...see.” Chase cleared his throat. Clearly, using more than one magic wasn’t something to make light of. It was too impossible. “And...what about those seekers you mentioned earlier?”

Tripp was eager to move on. “Seekers are wizards that can sense the presence of magic. What’s supposed to happen is that these seekers are supposed to stop by every town twice every year. In practice, that’s faded away. Most towns only see them once a year, and the farther away you get from Suilthair, the less often you’ll see them. My town where I grew up, they came by every three years. But if you don’t know what they are, then...have you ever seen them?”

At that, Chase had a vague memory of a group of strangers visiting Hilltown when he was a child. They were dressed finely, and the image of an elaborate brooch one of them was wearing flashed in his mind. The next day, Hanson, an old friend of his, announced to all the kids that he was going away for ‘special school.’ “Not in years. Long enough for me to forget what they are.”

Tripp huffed. “I bet it’s not worth the effort to come all the way up here. Bunch of nambies.” He rolled his eyes. “Seekers are employed by the royal family. They find young magic-wielders and offer to give them schoolin’, to learn how to use their magic. Schoolin’ that’s funded by the crowns. It’s not required—I never went—but it’s encouraged. Otherwise you might end up having magic shootin’ out of your—”

“Is that why most wizards side with the King?” Chase asked, remembering what Henrik said about the source of the village fire.

“Part of it. But wizards especially have a reason to keep on the King’s good side.” Tripp paused. “Those focuses I told you ‘bout, that wizards need to use their magic? The crowns fund the makin’ of those, too. And the sellin’. And everything about them.”

“Oh.” Chase’s eyes widened with realization. “So...if a wizard decided to oppose the King, then there’s a chance that...they wouldn’t have access to a focus anymore? And...their magic?”

Tripp nodded. “That’s why most of us magic-wielders in the Phantoms are sorcerers and a few enchanters.”

“No oracles?”

“Oh, elders, no. You heard how hard they are to find. Wish we had some, though. That’d be helpful.” Tripp stretched his arms, then stood up. “Anyway, that’s all I have to say. You got it all?”

“I think so, yes,” Chase said slowly. He looked up to the sky, mentally reviewing everything he’d heard. Sorcery, wizardry, enchantment, oraclulary, and witchcraft. All very different, all with things they could do and limitations that slowed them down. That made sense. He nodded to himself...and then noticed the position of the sun. “Shit!” Chase shot to his feet. “It’s noon! I have—after lunch, I—”

“More meetings, huh?” Tripp raised an eyebrow, then pulled his ram mask back on. “Let me guess...Lukas and Holly? Better hurry, Brodyson. Not good to be late for those two.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase swung by the cooking fires to grab some food, then hurried over to the combat fields, along the dragon’s wings. Originally, he wondered if the wing bones would get it the way, but apparently the dragon had died with its wings spread out as far as they could be, leaving ample room in between the bones. The packed dirt was lined with targets, crude dummies made of sacks of hay tied to sticks, and racks of wooden training weapons. Occasionally there were random chests or tents set up to create obstacles to fight around. As he ran out onto the fields, he passed many people, some sparring in groups, others practicing on their own. None of them paid him any mind.

Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure where to go. The fields took up all of the space cleared by the wings, which was, as it turned out, quite a lot. Maybe he should have asked Henrik for descriptions of the people he’d be meeting with. Feeling his nerves eating away at his stomach, he turned to the nearest person, and asked, quietly, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Lukas and Holly?”

The person turned around, looked down at him, and smiled. “Oh, it’s you! You’re the new one!”

“Um...yes,” Chase said slowly. It was just now occurring to him how...big this person was—this woman was, actually, judging by her voice. She towered over him, and her sleeveless tunic showed off the muscles of her tattooed arms. Strange to be wearing no sleeves in the chill mountain air, but she probably wasn’t bothered.

“I’m Holly.” Her smile widened. “Daughter of Rose.”

“Oh!” Chase blinked. That name didn’t fit her at all. But alright, he wasn’t one to say anything. “Chase, son of Brody.”

“Lovely to meet you.” Holly grabbed his hand and vigorously shook it. She wasn’t wearing her mask, but it hung around her neck. A bear. And the symbol on its forehead was the same as the one on Jackie’s wolf mask: a circle with two dots inside.  “Me and Lukas, we’re in charge of combat up in Wyvernlair. Speaking of which...” She turned around. “Luke! He’s here!”

Chase leaned around Holly to look at who she was addressing...and suddenly felt cold, despite his jacket. Now he remembered where he heard that name before. While he’d been sick with the shivering in the infirmary, he’d overheard a conversation between Jackie and a man in a fox mask. That man had wanted to throw him out of camp, but Jackie had refused...and now, Chase was staring at that very same man.

“I can see that,” Lukas said shortly. He was facing a series of targets, and didn’t turn to look at Holly and Chase. Instead he merely took another arrow from a quiver on his back, nocked it on his bow, and shot. The arrow flew straight into the center of the farthest target, which was barely the size of a hand spread wide.

“No you can’t, you didn’t even look!” Holly scowled, and turned back around. “Sorry about him, Chase. He’s been snippy.”

“Well I wouldn’t be snippy if I hadn’t been standing out here for an hour, waiting for someone who didn’t bother to show up on time,” Lukas snapped.

“I’m not an hour late,” Chase protested weakly. Even behind the fox mask, Lukas’s expression was twisted with frustration and annoyance.

“It’s a matter of principle,” Lukas said, finally turning to face Chase. When he did, Chase noticed the symbol on his mask for the first time: an X, with a dot to either side.

“Let’s just get into it,” Holly said, folding her arms. “Now, Chase. You’re a hunter, yes? So you have some experience with shortbows.”

“I can shoot, yes,” Chase agreed. “But I’ve never heard the term ‘shortbow’ before.” Lukas rolled his eyes, a motion that was partially hidden by the mask but still visible enough for Chase to catch.

“It means a smaller bow, in comparison to Lukas’s massive beast of a longbow over there.” Holly gestured towards Lukas’s bow; it was almost as tall as him. “Shortbows are better for mobility and closer range, while longbows are more suited for staying stationary and shooting long distances.”

“Ah.” Chase nodded. That made sense; bigger bows were more powerful, but also harder to draw back and move around. Amabel once tried to shoot Chase’s own bow when she was seven, and couldn’t pull the string even a little.

“I’m assuming you’re a fairly good shot,” Holly said, rubbing her chin. “So you’ll probably need to work with me more. I’m in charge of close-range combat, while Lukas handles the long range, with bows. So if we’re to—”

“Hold on a moment, Holly,” Lukas interrupted. “I want to see what he can do.”

Holly shot Lukas a dirty look. “There’s no need—”

“Of course there is. We should know what our starting point is.” Lukas turned and walked towards a nearby weapons rack, picking out a smaller shortbow and a quiver of matching arrows. He headed back to the others and thrust the tools at Chase. “Show me how well you hunt.”

“...alright. I will.” Chase took the bow and quiver slowly. He didn’t like being tested, especially not when the test was proposed by a man who clearly thought he was some sort of spy for the King and might be looking for an excuse to kick him out. Should he pretend to be worse than he actually was? No, that would just be complicated. He’d shoot normally.

He stepped up to the place Lukas had been standing, facing the targets, and strapped the quiver onto his back. For a moment, he examined the bow. Solidly built. Looked newer than the one he used back home. And had these odd curves...was this a recurve model? He’d heard of them, but never used one before.

“Soon, please!” Lukas called.

Holly promptly hit him on the back of the head. “Take your time, Chase! Don’t worry!”

Chase nodded. His mouth was suddenly very dry. But he swallowed his nerves, adjusted his stance, and nocked an arrow. He hit it against the back of his head in the process of taking it out of the quiver—not being used to wearing it on his back—and glanced back at the two watching to gauge their reactions. Holly looked supportive, but Lukas was unreadable. He looked away again.

There were ten arrows in the quiver and ten targets set up in front of him. He must need to hit all of them. So he drew back, aimed, and let loose the arrow.

Ten arrows.

Five of them hit the closest targets. Two of those hit their target’s center.

One hit the edge of one of the farther targets.

The remaining four missed.

Feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned back to Holly and Lukas.

“Wow. That was the most utterly average thing I’ve ever seen,” Lukas said bluntly.

“You hit more than I can!” Holly said positively, giving him a short round of applause. “That’s great!”

Chase nodded silently. “I...I’m not used to this bow.”

Lukas hummed. He went to collect the arrows, giving Chase a side-eyed look as he walked past. It seemed as though his suspicions hadn’t been assuaged. If anything, he looked even more wary.

Holly walked up to Chase and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Chase promptly lost his balance from the force of the contact, and Holly helped him right himself. “Sorry about that,” she said. “And sorry about Lukas. He’s just...he has a hard time trusting people. I’m sure you’ll win him over.”

“It’s fine,” Chase said distantly. “I mean, not everyone’s going to immediately welcome someone new into a group like this. You need to keep secret. There are risks.” Still, Lukas’s distrust, combined with his mediocre shooting skills, left him feeling a bit down. Like a cloud passing over the sun, everything just seemed...disappointing.

Lukas returned, arrows in hand. “Do it again,” he said.

“Elders and Sisters, Luke, we don’t have all day,” Holly protested. 

“He needs to practice,” Lukas said, stone-faced.

“He needs to start with me! You can’t handle all your problems from a distance, especially in our situation. What’s he to do if a King’s man jumps him from behind and all he has are arrows?”

“It’s fine,” Chase repeated. He rubbed his arm; they hadn’t given him an arm guard, and despite the jacket fabric, his skin still stung from the bow string. “We have until dinner.”

Holly gave him a look, but sighed and stepped back. “One hour of shooting, then it’s my turn.”

Lukas nodded. “Deal.”

Chase sighed a bit, and took the arrows from Lukas. It was turning out to be a long day.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Cowboy.”

Wanted to try something new.  Aliens meet different ways of living. Was trying to really capture the small town farming feel in this one. Granted I grew up in and near places like this but was from the burbs technically, so, lol, hopefully I did it justice. 

The sky over Jakar was a light violet purple.

Strings of long striated clouds cut across the sky at intervals looking like the ripples you see on the face of a sand dune. The Sun hadn’t yet risen hiding just below the distant horizon. The air around them was warm, but not tropical, rather moderate.

Standing on the loading ramp to the Harbinger and staring out over the strange moon, they could see for miles and miles onto the unbroken horizon. Under the purple sky, there were no trees or rocks, just acres and acres of evenly spaced crops gently rolling over minute hills and shallow divots in the earth. A gently wind blew up from their front rolling over the ground and bringing with it the cool moist scent of fertile dirt.

The sun inched upwards over the horizon, casting a honeyed yellow glow over an unbroken sea of green. With the engines of the ship off, and not a soul in sight, the scene before them was absolutely silent, almost surreal.

As they watched, a ripple of wind blew up from their right churning the green sea before them into a stormy sea. The plant stalks rolled in waves under the slow push of the wind, which, when it reached them, brought the subtle whisper of leaves brushing over each other.

All together, if they closed their eyes, they could almost imagine the sound of a distant sea.

Both Krill and sunny were riveted to that quiet morning in fascination. 

They had never known a thing to be so beautiful, so quiet.

And even though the land was touched by man, the quiet serenity almost had them forgetting that fact.

They stood like that for many minutes, enjoying the silence until a distant sound rose up from the horizon.

Krill craned his neck and Sunny shaded her eyes.

It can in beats of four, a rhythmic thudding of…. something .

They were alerted by the dust cloud, brown tinged purple rising up from the right.

Looking a little longer,they watched as a very strange creature galloped towards them. The animal had four legs, a long snout, a thick neck, and streams of long hair flying from it’s head and rump. THe joints of its front legs faced the wrong direction.

Krill shifted back up the ramp a little ways.

The beats of the animal’s feet grew louder as it got closer, and only then was Krill able to see that, to his shock and dismay, there was a human riding astride it’s back, just casually sitting atop the one ton beast as if it was nothing bouncing up and down with the animal’s jostling movements.

He stared dumbstruck alongside Sunny as the human pulled to a stop gently tugging at the contraption which had been fixed around the animal’s head.

A familiar tawny, and black dog came chasing after her tail wagging, her ears perked.

Waffles skidded to a slow trot and began frantically sniffing through the nearby plot of plants.

Sunny and Krill stepped forward as the human, turned to look at them, restings his hands against his upper thighs as the beast lowered it’s head to sniff at the ground.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Sunny asked the commander.

“A better question is what the hell are you riding.” Krill could already tell this day was going to make him angry, “Aren't you well aware that falling off that thing could kill you, not to mention if it decided to cave your head in with its feet.”

Commander Vir pulled the patterned cloth triangle down from around his face, eyes mostly shadowed by the brim of the very dorky hat he was wearing. The shirt he had on was long sleeve and mid range blue in color with a collar, and matching jeans with a very strange set of heeled boots.

“Forgot you've never seen a horse before.”

He kicked one of his feet up over the top the back of the creature and let himself gently down onto the dirt.

The large animal turned it’s massive head, nudging him in the chest with it’s soft pink snout.

He smiled and rubbed it’s nose.

“A horse?”

“Yes, one of man’s greatest achievements.”

The horse threw its head up and down as if in agreement.

“A knobby kneed dog creature?”

“No a knobby kneed beast of burden, from the back of which humanity conquered the world. He patted it’s neck, “These guys are the reason humanity got as far as it did, at least one fo the reasons.

Krill stared at the ‘horse’ nervously staring into its wide dark eyes, sensing a hint of cunning intelligence that he did not particularly appreciate. Sunny stepped forward a bit, and the horse lifted it’s head, wide nostrils flaring menacingly. 

It stepped back, and the commander held firm, “Woah, easy girl. It’s just sunny.”

The horse didn’t seem convinced, and Sunny stayed at a polite distance.

“Commander, I must insist, that beast could kick your head in if agitated.”

“Oh I know. Believe you me I know.”

The horse tossed it’s head.

“Can we get back to the important question of….. What the hell are you wearing?”

He looked down, “This, my fine friend is the historic gear of the Cowboy, and early symbol of the west, your rough and tumble man’s man who lived rough, worked hard, and is, arguably the symbol of human manifest destiny.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

The commander sighed, “Look they were total badasses who rode horses, shot guns, and drank too much.”

“Badasses who wore heels?” Sunny wondered 

“Yes, yes they were.”

“And where did you get that outfit exactly?”

He tugged at the shirt rather proudly, “My mother made it for me, you know because that is what she does for a living.”

“Do you often commission really dumb clothing from your mother.” Sunny continued to tease.

“I have an outfit for every major time period from here to to the early Byzantine empire.” He bragged, not that it meant anything.

Her continued teasing was cut off as more noises rose up from the distance, the sound of hooves and the shrill chatter of, what Sunny could only assume was the horses. A larger dust cloud was riding up this time, and as she watched, another group of human came riding down the track. At least three of them riding horseback and wearing outfits much the same as the commander now wore. Though one of them was riding on the front of a strange wooden vehicle pulled by the creatures.

And krill had thought current human technology was primitive.

The two men, and one woman came to a halt just to their side, and looking them over, Krill couldn't help but notice the strange nature of these humans, tanned dark by the sun, their skin tough and calloused, especially about the hands. Though it was early morning they were already covered in dust. One of them touched the brim of his hat upon seeing them and dismounted from his horse walking over to shake the commander’s hand.

“I’m gonna assume your Commander Vir.” He looked around, “Seeing as you’re the only human here.”

“Yes sir.”

His voice was deep, and rather slow with a sort of relaxing quality to it, though there was an edge of steel behind his voice, “Didn’t think you fancy space captains knew how to ride horses.”

“My father worked on one of the farming conglomerates when I was a boy. He made sure we knew how to ride.”

“Smart man.” The old human turned his steely brown eyes on them looking sunny and Krill up and down though he didn’t seem all that surprised. He held out a hand to sunny, “Looks like you’ve got plenty of hands to shake.”

She chirped a laugh and took his hand surprised at how strong  he was, how rough his hands were.

Krill received a nod which was more than alright by him. He turned back and motioned to his companions, “Meet, Jack my son, and Liz y daughter. They volunteered to help out with our little problem.”

“Smugglers you were saying.” 

“Yes. We think they are some of those Tesraki types using our fields as stop points. Wouldn’t mind it so much if they didn’t keep destroying the product. They tend to land where we plant the pink orbs-” He looked at sunny, “Think they are from your planet. A bitch to get to grow here, we have to cut the soil with imported volcanic ash to get them to grow, and every time those bastards show up we lose a yield.” 

His daughter motioned at Sunny and Krill to climb up onto the strange wooden death machine with wheels. At first Krill refused, but sunny grabbed him and hauled him upwards, sitting on one of the  wooden benches. 

Krill reused to sit.

He could see splinters.

“They aren’t supposed to be in for another few days though.” The two men had mounted their horses and were riding side by side now as the ‘what krill learned to be a cart’ started up, rolling over the uneven ground and threatening to rattle his brains out of his head.

“Doesn’t this thing have shocks.” he moaned 

The humans laughed, and the head human turned back to look at him, “Don’t need socks on a wagon…..” He paused, “This one ain’t mch for country livin’”

The commander snorted, “He isn’t much for anything new. Guess you could say he’s a big city surgeon. I don’t think his  species has been without automated assistance for the past ten thousand years. But Sunny there probably gets it, her clan was mainly gatherer types.”

“Yeah, I heard about the Drev. Don’t live so differently from us all told.” beside them lines and lines of crops grew up in the distance, a never ending line broken up by nothing more than a distant building rising many stories above the fields. Massive silver constructions in cylinders with pointy tops.

“What are those?” Sunny asked, pointing.

The daughter looked “Those are silos. Once we harvest the produce, all the food goes in there for storage until we sell it.”

“So much food.” Sunny muttered 

Krill didn’t like the look of them, they appeared dangerous. Up ahead of them, the dog, waffles seemed to be enjoying herself romping about over the dirt road and through the first few lines of plants her tongue lolling her ears up.

“Your Shepherd seems happy.” The man commented, “Better then being cooped up in a flying tin can.”

“Yeah , she doesn’t get to go outside much these days.”

Looking up into the distance, Krill could just make out a slow break on the horizon. They were trees as far as he could tell, which surprised him since they seemed far to big to be here, as unnatural a species as they were.

“Are those oak trees?” The Captain asked, incredulous.

“That they are, got them imported in one of those massive fraighters. Putting them in the ground was complete bullshit, but they took surprisingly well. We wanted the two to be a bit more cozy. 

The closer they got to town the more people they could see. Children ran in and out of the crop lines chasing each other and laughing. 

Women carried baskets with them plucking bright red berries from tall growths of plants turning to wave at them as they passed.

Horses loitered, tied up on the sides of the road next to large, elegant houses in a style Krill had never seen before.

“Wow.” The commander muttered, “This is…. Wow.”

The man smiled, “Much as I love earth, you can’t live like this any more. No more small towns. When I heard how cheep they were selling land up here for, I couldn’t resist. Worked for one of those corporations like your father, and that’s when I heard about the deal going on. Come up here, farm the land and get the property for free.” He motioned to the houses and the barns, “Built most of it with our own two hands. Machinery is a bitch to get out here, so most everything we make by ourselves.”

Krill and sunny stared on in complete fascination. The wooden buildings held together by nothing more than sharp metal spikes, still multiple stories tall and with glass windows. What little technology there was was overshadowed by just how provincial everything was. People carrying buckets of water with their own two hands, polishing boots, and sawing off planks of wood with manual blades.

And despite that, how much more difficult everything probably was, they seemed happy. The people themselves were rough, but well put together, tanned skin, and bright eyes over calloused hands and straight backed postures full of confidence and pride. As they rode past they received nothing but friendly smiles and waved greetings.

Adam was practically a pampered, prim little pretty boy in comparison to the rest, and he was a one eyed, peg legged, space captain for intents and purposes.

A pleasantly plump dark skinned woman waved at them from her porch, where she sat in a very strange looking chair, which instead of legs, had skids? And rocked when she shifted her weight. Which seemed to be the intention.

Sunny and Krill raised their hands back, not sure of what else to do.

The man at the front sighed, “Man you can’t live like this anymore, not on earth anyway.”

Commander vir was looking around with an appreciative smile, “it’s like going back in time. Dam…. it’s nice here.”

“Almost makes you want to get your feet back on solid dirt?” The man wondered 

The commander laughed, “I don’t think so. Your town is great, but there is nothing like the majesty of waking up and seeing the rings of saturn outside our bedroom window, or a nebulae thousands of light years wide, or stepping out of the ship and just…. Floating weightless like nothing can hold you down ever again.”

The man shuttered, “Can’t imagine.”

“Can’t imagine but can’t forget.”

Adam’s horse tossed it’s head and he patted it on the neck.

The other human shook his head, “Cut from a different mold I guess. I’d like nothing more than an honest day’s work under the sun getting my hands dirty. None of that outer space politics.”

Adam laughed, “I suppose I forget about politics most of the time. Honestly consider myself more of an adventurer discovering new planets and new species bravely going where no man has gone before sort of thing.”

The two of them laughed together.

Krill wondered at the strangeness of humanity. Here were two men, one of them a ship captain venturing into the unknown on one of the most advanced pieces of human technology ever created  flying shuttles, talking with aliens and traversing the galaxy, while there was another human a lover of dirt beneath his hands, with no desire to leave his home, or likely even go outside it’s farm’s radius, content with living the same day for the rest of his life, with the same people, building everything with his hands, living without what seemed to be the most basic of human technologies.

And here they were sitting together speaking and laughing.

Getting along despite being so different.

Because humans can just do that.

Humans understand. 

[musicalskater59]

Daylight December: Mermaids

A little bit on the longer side, but this one kind of needed me to do a little world building so I hope that doesn’t bother anyone. I remembered someone on here doing a bunch of Jim Mermaid AU drawings so I took some inspiration from that and just ran with it! If I end up finding the drawings again, I’ll @ the artist since I want to give them credit for the idea.

But anyways, I hope you all enjoy! 

For as long as I could remember, I was told that humans were dangerous. Well, besides my mother, that is. Blinky was sure to distill that within me. It was one of the first rules you learn about when you're greeted into Mer Market. Never trust humans.

I looked up toward the dark-haired pirate as she treated the small gash I had on my right forearm.

But she started to make me feel as if some were worthy of trusting.

It wasn't the first time I had crossed paths with Claire. She's the second in command to well-known sea thrasher Captain Anger Rot. The last apprentice to probably one of the most notorious pirates this side of Atlantis, Morgana La Fey.

But she was a lot more caring in comparison to her counterparts. Unlike the wealth desiring Angor Rot, all she wanted was to protect the sea from outsiders. Protect the mythical creatures she encountered as well as making hell for those that threatened our existence.

Even if it was again her own family.

But besides that, she was a beauty on the inside and out. Her dark nearly black hair kept under her normal purple durag and leather tricorn cap mixed with her loose-fitting white blouse and dark britches made her a sight for sore eyes no matter how long she was at sea. Her smile was pearly white unlike some of her fellow pirates which she always chalked up to the fact that she was sure to take care of herself no matter how long they were away from land.

But that wasn't all that I liked about her. She's witty and sharp. Always ready to fight for what she believed in a moment's notice. Her bravely was something that the toughest of men would envy her. Her strength was more than all the men around her combined, both physically and mentally.

She was a beauty in that regard. In all regards, really. But am I ever going to admit that to the pirate? Probably never.

Was I desperate to have her within my life and was I desperate to do so? Oh incredibly so.

"You need to be more careful, Jim." I snapped back into reality as I looked over toward the pirate to see a soft look in her deep hazel eyes. "You shouldn't be near the surface so close to sunrise. You know the risks." I smiled at her worry as I leaned my weight onto my left hand that was held back behind me.

"I know. I just saw some of the other creatures getting captured. You know-."

"That you would never live with yourself if you knew you could do something, I know." A smile appeared on her face as looked back down at the small gash she was treating. "You and I are two of the same with it comes to that."

"Don't you need to get the ship ready to sail once more? I don't want to be a bother."

"Not when I know if this doesn't heal that you'll end up causing harm to yourself. The water may help full-blooded mermaids, but I know it would not be kind to you if you just dive right back in." I gave the pirate a wide smile as wiped something onto the gash. A stinging feeling going up my arm, but I didn't mind it. I've felt worse, honestly.

"I just don't want to get you in trouble with Angor again."

"Angor can hold his ass." I couldn't up but laugh at her response as she brushed something onto the wound. Something that felt like it hardened around the soft flesh. "This liquid hardener should keep your cut from making you lose too much blood when you enter back into the water."

"I can't thank you enough, Claire." I gave her a thankful smile which she replied to with a soft one of her own.

"Anytime, Jim."

"I guess I should dive back in then, huh?"

"Well," I noted how she tucked a small bit of her lip under her teeth as she sat down beside me on the ship's deck. "I didn't say that now did I?" I blushed at her words as she took the space next to me. "It's not often I get some downtime with ya."

"Downtime? That's a thing within this world?" She let out a laugh which caused my heart to flutter within my chest.

Like a true angel of the sea. Great mother of Poseidon, I swear fate is tempting me within this moment.

"I guess not. Not when I'm in the shadow of Morgana La Fey." She reached out and nudge my right shoulder with her fist. "And definitely not when you're being hunted on the daily."

"Gil-ty as charged." I gave her a smirk as she just rolled her eyes at me.

"You punny bastard."

"You wouldn't like me any other way, no would you?"

"I quite like you the way you are."

"Half-mermaid and all?"

"Half-mermaid and all." She giggled at me as the sound of heavy footsteps appearing from the back of the deck.

"CLAIRE! Where is that sea witch?" Claire just gave me a smile as Angor's voice boomed from where I could guess was his captain's quarters.

"You should go before he sees that I let you linger again."

"Don't be in too much trouble, eh?"

"I wouldn't be me if I wasn't in trouble, would I?" Her smile widened before she suddenly leaned in and pressed her lips to my cheek. This action causing a bright blush to take over my face with ease as she pulled back from me. "I see you around, yeah?"

"Wouldn't imagine anything else, Claire."

"Stay safe, Jim." I rose to my feet and made my way toward the railing before looking back over toward her.

"You as well, Claire." She gave me a sweet smile as I leaped over the railing and made my way back into the water. My legs instantly transforming into my normal blue tail before I swam off toward where I knew Mer Market was. Alrighty knowing that I was going to get a talking to by Blinky for putting myself in danger once again.

But was it be worth it.

I smiled as the burning blush was still apparent on my cheeks, despite the cold seawater engulfing my figure as I made my way deeper and deeper to the seafloor.

Yes. Yes, it was.

[livewireprojects]

So I was working on a pic for day 16 but I was working on it after work so didn’t have much time before 5pm to get pics.(I need a scanner one of these days) At some point I just looked at how dark it was getting in the room I take pics in & gave up. I also don’t know what to do for day 17, I want to guess something like Future Foundation or characters being in the simulation from DR2 due to the name of the project but I dunno. I might do something but the theme future is coming up so I’ll likely save it for that.

I’m rambling & kind of feel bad for my posts for day 15 So day 16 was alternate universes & I really enjoy AUs though a large amount of the ones I like are crossover plots. Most of the pics aren’t crossover based & are largely just based on past RPs. I made a bunch of pics & didn’t want to spam with posts for each so I tried to put as many as I could together.

The first three pics are based on a thing I call Monster Community AU thing, pretty much characters are secretly some kind of creature(witch, alien, merpeople, harpies, etc) living among humans but sometimes do things in secret areas other monsters hanging out at like a community of monsters.

The two scenes here are from different mermaid RPs, both from my Monster Community AU stuff again. Both pics involve RP plots that were DR1 happened, DR2 characters were trying to survive the aftermath of the world going mad(pretty much surviving in the destroyed city until finding somewhere or something) & some other stuff I’m going to leave out due to rambling. Just know this is technically a simplified version of the series post-DR1(if that makes sense? probably not) that was used because I keep doing shit in RPs.

The one to the left is from a plot were the survivors find a cave they end up staying the night in only to decided to check further & find themselves in a place other monsters are living in. For some reason Makoto is a grey eyeless big mouth monster, I think I was obsessed with a design I saw on Tumblr but can't find anymore. Byakuya is an octopus merperson because for some reason I imagine he'd be on if he was a merman. The second one is vampire Byakuya is living in a mansion his family had by the sea on a cliff area that leads to the beach. He ends up learning Makoto is a merperson(whose parents tried to keep him from learning about other creatures for safety) & expecting their kids. Makoto is a species of merperson that make nests in the sand when they have kids so Makoto had to stay in the water until the babies could swim by themselves. Byakuya will probably have some special pools setup in the house for the twins since they'll be to young to go into human form after the being old enough to swim.(It'll only be a couple months) At the moment Makoto is in a cave inside the cliff that leads to the ocean, some how the inside of Byakuya's mansion has a secret stairway leading down here. Makoto can't leave the water because his nest is here & his merperson instincts don't want him to leave until the babies hatch & are old enough to swim. Due to Makoto's parents hiding his & Komaru's mermaid/creature side Makoto didn't think much on the fact he was a merperson until he got pregnant & his instincts demanded he make a nest... That's also how Byakuya learned his family had a secret area of the mansion & proceeded lug a futon mattress/blanket down there to be close to Makoto. I didn't think much about it at the time but I guess something lead to his parents getting protective & scared if someone knew they were merpeople, then again there's a Japanese myth about eating mermaids/some kind of fish people would cause immortality. I almost forgot this but Byakuya hung up a net & decorations so the babies when down in the cave don’t swim into the sea.

This one is based on an RP were Byakuya is a werewolf while Makoto is a harpy. DR1 happened, Byakuya & Makoto had a relationship but went their separate ways to find their families(see if there’s hope of them still being out there) while working on getting their lives together.(Since with the despair event they likely need to recover/figure out what to do now)

Byakuya at some point is house sitting for Hinata & Komaeda(originally it was his vacation cabin in the woods but something changed forget why) when he ends up having to help a harpy who lost their nest because a tree landed on it. He took the harpy in because they didn’t have anywhere to go & the crash broke one of their wings. He was to tired to think much about figuring out who the harpy was after patching them up because he was tired.

Byakuya ends up learning in the morning that the harpy is Makoto & pregnant. Byakuya reassured Makoto knew he was safe now & he(Byakuya) isn’t going anywhere. Byakuya later learned Makoto found his family but someone attacked & ditched him in the woods while injuring his eye. After that Byakuya helps Makoto recover & they eventually move to his vacation house when Hinata & Komaeda come home. Byakuya has a nursery for their eventual kids & Makoto ended up staying in the nursery sitting on the egg Ichigo was in when he had the twins. Len kept barking when he found her until she finally hatched.

Here’s Makoto perched on Hinata’s couch singing a bird tune as Byakuya listens, sometimes the blond will sometimes whistle which makes Makoto squeal in delight because it sounds like Byakuya trying to mimic a bird. Makoto is meant to be a House Martin harpy because the bird is cute & has fuzzy feet. Makoto’s hood/cape is just his hoodie tied to his neck, he can slightly still see out of the injured eye but without something to protect it things seem to bright during the day through that eye.

This was the pic that lead to not posting anything the other day, as you can tell I made more pics right after managing to finish it. This pic is once again based on an RP(well two of them), for some reason I really liked doing this plot. The AU is pretty much everyone lives in a world of animal centaurs(in Kazuichi's case he's a shark merperson) & for some reason this is before modern technology exists. Everyone lives in caves that have been carved into homes with some having multiple rooms, they have furniture made from leftover stone, wood, some other stuff & clothes made out of normal animal skin like they're in Brother Bear or something. Given the state the world is currently at they seal off the entrances to their caves in the winter after making sure to have enough food to last it.(There's some that have the ability to hibernate luckily) I have absolutely no idea why I enjoy this so much. So Byakuya is a wolf(lol blond wolf fur) & Makoto is a pygmy goat(I made him a little bigger because again awkward size) but for the first RP I kept switching the species(from pudu deer to pygmy goat) because I was obsessed with those animals at the time. It ended with S having Gundam call Makoto a goat/deer hybrid so he's a deer goat in the first RP.(I didn't switch it often but kept talking about confusion) In the second RP Makoto stayed a pygmy goat for the entire RP. Len is a wolf centaur & Ichigo is a goat centaur, Byakuya & Makoto had other kids but they're preexisting characters(Komaru & Chiaki for some reason) & I'm mostly focusing on these characters.(I don't actually know what I was getting at) The twins are a couple days old, since Ichigo is a pygmy goat she's already active. Byakuya is laying down so she won't get hurt, Ichigo & Makoto's goat side makes them enjoy climbing things so the little baby is climbing on daddy. Len's eyes & ears haven't opened just yet so he's kept safe in a portable cradle thing since he's to small to play with his little sister right now.(Makoto will retuck him in in a moment) Makoto has a poncho thing because he has trouble keeping warm which luckily his kids didn't inherit. Also Byakuya is pretty strong so he can take his daughter & his mate trying to climb on him especially when Makoto is pregnant. It's ok & doesn't bother him in fact it's kind of cute especially since sometimes after that Ichigo will do a little jitter dance that baby goats some times do.(He'd also whether they climb on him or a stool thing than try to climb the side of their home or something bigger due to worrying about the two hurting themselves.

Byakuya & Makoto have slightly long hair because it's hard for them to cut their hair with a dagger Byakuya worked on for hair cutting. Byakuya is hoping to eventually trade something for a mirror some traveling trader visits, maybe see if someone in the pack can help with cutting hair not that it matter much.

Go check out @naegamimonth​

[zebrabaker]

The Mermaid, A MLB Oneshot

THIS IS A ONESHOT, DO NOT ASK FOR MORE!

Adrien was bored. He was in yet another lesson, and his father was expecting him to spend time with Princess Chloe later. Better her than Princess Lila, at least. Finally, Madame Mendelieve closed her book, and headed for the door. Adrien sat still until she was gone, before jumping up out of his seat. He stretched his back and ran for the door that lead to the servant’s passages. He ran along the narrow, winding paths, before reaching the small courtyard where his best friend, Nino, was practicing his guitar.

“Hey man! How were lessons?” Nino adjusted his hat and looked up at him, smiling. This was why Adrien liked Nino. He didn’t treat him like a prince, but like a friend. It was refreshing.

“Boring as ever.” Adrien huffed, and joined his friend in the bench.

“Well I have some good news! Captain Theo has brought back something awesome from his latest trip! You’ll never guess what it is.”  Nino smirked and plucked a string.

“What? Another treasure chest?” Adrien scoffed.

“Nope. An actual mermaid!” Adrien froze. A mermaid? No way.

“Be realistic, Nino. Mermaids are just myths.”

“No! I saw this one myself! We can go see it tomorrow morning, I’ll set it up. It’s gonna be so cool!” Nino bounced, excited.

“Alright, alright. For now, let’s head in; it’s almost time for lunch.” Adrien gave Nino a hand up, and the two reentered the palace

X0X0X

Marinette swam back, assessing the glass that held her. She flicked her tail as she thought, before nodding. She angled her shoulders, braced her arms, and slashed her tail down. Her body jetted through the water, and she rammed against the glass and bounced off. With a growl, she watched the glass. Nothing. She had rammed the glass dozens of times and nothing had happened! A weak chuckle came from the outside of her tank, and she glared at the human leaning against the wall across from her enclosure.

“That won’t work, little fish. The glass is bulletproof. No matter how many times you ram into it, it won’t even crack. You may as well rest. The prince will be here to see you in the morning.” He smirked at her before strolling away. She had to get home. She couldn’t stay here! Without her, the sea would die! She swam back, assessed the glass, and readied herself again.

X0X0X

Adrien followed Nino deep into the basement of the palace. They weren’t near the old dungeons, but he still felt uneasy.

“How much further?” He hissed to Nino.

“Just through here. C’mon!” Nino grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the doorway into a dark room. Nino flipped the lights on, and Adrien glanced around. One wall was glass, and looked like an aquarium. The bottom of the tank was coated in sand, with pearls of various sizes and colors scattered about. There were a few strands of seaweed swaying in the water, and the largest clam shell he had ever seen was sitting open in the center. It looked like it could host a mermaid, but that was just it. There was no mermaid. Adrien turned to Nino and sighed.

“I told you, Nino, mermai- “Adrien was cut off when he heard a large thunk from the other side of the glass. He wheeled about, and felt his jaw drop.

Floating on the other side of the glass was an honest to god mermaid. Her hair was black, and her tail a vivid pink, almost red. Her eyes, which glared hatefully at him, were a shimmering blue. Her skin was paler than a pearl, and she had a splattering of freckles. She pounded a fist against the glass, and he realized she had been making odd sounds at them.

“Whoa. She’s…” Adrien trailed off, unsure of what to say. Lovely did not fit, nor did beautiful. She was flawless.

“Creepy? Yeah. I mean, it’s pretty and all that, but something about it just sets me on edge.” Nino shuddered. Adrien glanced at his friend, confused. She was not creepy! She was the most perfect thing he had ever seen. He glanced back at her and sighed. She was swimming away now, tail slashing through the water.

“Where is she going?” He asked Nino.

“It keeps trying to break the glass. It won’t work, though. The glass is bullet proof.” Nino knocked against the glass, smirking. “Just think, the kingdom of Agreste has it’s own personal mermaid. I hear that their singing can convince men to throw themselves overboard. Wanna see if it’ll sing for us?” Nino pulled his guitar from his back, and strummed a cord. Suddenly, the mermaid was there, face and hands pressed up against the glass. She was staring at Nino with her pupils blown wide. He continued to play, a small shanty he had learned from the sailors down by the docks, and the mermaid began to hum.

X0X0X

Marinette would never admit, but she loved human music. They could not sing, not like her people, so they had made things to do it for them. The darker human was using one right now, pulling at strings and watching her. She began to hum, wanting him to play more. When he did not stop, when she began to sing in her mother tongue.

“Oh, the waves roll low

And the waves roll high,

And so, it goes,

Under a bright blue endless sky.

Waves try to measure,

The days that we treasure,

Wave hello and wave goodbye.”

It was an ancient lullaby, one that every merfolk heard from their parents at some point as a baby. The humans were staring at her, wide eyed. The pale one hit the darker one on the arm, and said something she could not hear. The darker one gulped and began to play again. Marinette beamed and quickly thought of another lullaby, one Queen Anarka had taught her the last time she and her children had come to visit.

“Hush now, mo stoirin,

Close your eyes and sleep.

Waltzing the waves,

Diving the deep.

Stars are shining bright,

The wind is on the rise.

Whispering words, of long-lost lullabies.

Oh, won’t you come with me?

Where the moon is made of gold.

And in the morning sun,

We’ll be sailing.

Oh, won’t you come with me?

Where the ocean meets the sky.

And as the clouds roll by,

We’ll sing the song of the sea.”

Marinette held the last note, and sighed when it was done. She loved that song. It sounded better when her friends acted as her chorus, but it was okay on her own. The door opened behind the two humans, and let in the one who had caught her. He was tall and had dark hair, wearing a great deal of dark fabric. The two smaller humans spoke with him, before leaving with him. Marinette sighed. She hated being alone. Merfolk were social creatures, almost always together. Worst of all was that the small space she was kept in was dark, with no lava pockets or glow fish to give her heat and light. She shivered, and swam into the seaweed patch. Her family would get her out of here soon.

X0X0X

They returned the next day, the pale one and the dark one. This, time, neither carried an instrument. Instead, the sat and stared at her. The pale one began to sing, and the dark one reluctantly joined him. Marinette recognized the song. It was a love song! How dare this puny human try to woo her! She glared and sat down inside the large clam shell, turning her back. She was engaged, as any merfolk with eyes could tell. Of course, human’s might not be able to, but she still would not sing with them. She sat with her back turned until they left. She would be out of here soon enough.

X0X0X

Adrien burst into Nino’s room, beaming.

“Whoa, Adrien! Is everything okay, dude?” Nino stood from his bed, setting aside his headphones.

“I just had the best idea, Nino! A festival! We call for the most talented musicians in the land, and we have them perform with her! We can move her cage into the square! It’ll be great!” Adrien was bouncing in place.

“That’s a great idea, dude! We’ll have to ask Captain Theo, since he’s the one who caught it though.” Nino grabbed his headphones and headed for the door. “Let’s go ask!”

X0X0X

He had said yes, and preparations began at once. Adrien commissioned a large tank, big enough that she could swim around. Nino began sending invites to the best musicians in all of Agreste. Soon, the big day came. The tank was placed in the square, and the mermaid had been moved while she slept. She had woken up dazed and confused, swimming about and looking out at the square. She had caught sight of the water on the other end of the square, and had been staring at it ever since.

X0X0X

She knew humans were foolish, but this was extreme. She was within just a few yards of the ocean; she could hear it calling out for her! She hummed, low in the back of her throat, and waited. After just a few minutes, she heard the reply.

“We cannot reach you, princess! You are too far! Try to move closer!” It was Sir Pierre, head of the guard. She looked around, frantic. She was so close! She just had to move this tank! She rammed her shoulder against the side, and growled when nothing happened. She tried, again and again, to move closer, but all she did was slosh water over the edge of her tank.

“I can’t! The cage I am in is too heavy! I will distract the humans while you look for a way to get me out!” Marinette swept around the cage, looking at all the humans staring at her. She saw several in a line, each holding an instrument. The pale one who visited her was standing on a platform, facing the crowd. He began to speak, and one of the humans in line stepped forward. Two others came over and quickly assembled a device next to her tank. Once the machine was all together, he smirked at the crowd before pushing several buttons. The machine began to emit horrible sounds, but the humans seemed to enjoy it. She slammed her hands over her ears, and shook her head, trying to block out the noise. It sounded like the machine was trying to make music, but was failing. Horribly. It was dull and lifeless, lacking soul. After a few seconds of this torture, the pale one spoke again. The one controlling the machine yelled at him, before stomping off. The two humans form before disassembled the machine, and another human stepped forward. This one had vivid hair and dramatic clothes. It strummed at it’s guitar, and began to sing.

“Record scratch; Steve Miller Band, Tattooed necks and tattooed hands. Oh, how don’t you drown in a rain storm? Fresh regrets, vodka sweats, the sun is down and we’re bound to get exhausted and so far from the shore.” Marinette trilled when the human began the song. She knew this one from a few fishing boats playing it while they were working! She gladly joined in, shimmying her tail to the beat.

“You’re never gonna get it, I’m a hazard to myself, I’ll break it to you easy This is hell, this is hell! You’re looking and whispering; you think I’m someone else. This is hell, yes. Literal hell!” She struggled to form the words, as she did not speak the human tongue. “We don’t have to talk, we don’t have to dance, we don’t have to smile, we don’t have to make friends. It’s so nice to meet you, let’s never meet again! We don’t have to talk; we don’t have to dance; we don’t have to dance!” By the end of the song, Marinette was panting, and had almost been distracted from why she was doing this. A few other artists tried to get her to sing, but only one succeeded, a small girl with a violin. After her refusal of another artist, she saw a flash of teal out of the corner of her eye. She twirled in her tank, pretending to be jubilant, but really trying to make sure she hadn’t just imagined what she saw. There he was, hiding in a corner! He winked at her and she couldn’t help but trill.

The pale one was smiling at her, like she was a sea-lion who had just done some cute trick. How ridiculous. Another human came up to him, with long hair the same color as the pale ones. She wore a dress that trailed behind her, and sneered at Marinette. The pale one smiled at her, and the female said something to him. He nodded, and she approached the tank. She snapped her fingers, and a red-haired human approached, carrying a stool. The blonde sat, and began to sing. Marinette slammed her hands over her ear frills and whined. The girl couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket! The blonde snarled, and slammed a hand against the tank, causing ripples in the water that disoriented Marinette. She shook her head, trying to think clearly. The blonde stormed off, and the pale one addressed the crowd before chasing after her.

X0X0X

This was not going how he had planned! The mermaid was supposed to sing with all of the best musicians Agreste had to offer. Instead, she had sung with Jagged Stone and no-one else. He had finally decided to let the commoners try, but only a small girl with a violin managed to get the mermaid to perform. He had panicked, and turned it into a contest. Chloe had then decreed that she could easily make the creature perform, and had begun singing a song from her homeland. The mermaid acted as if she was in physical pain, and Chloe had thrown a fit before storming off. He had told the audience they were going to give the mermaid a break, and chased after her. It had taken half an hour to calm her down and drag her back. By the time he had gotten back onstage, most of the crowd had left, with only a few bored teens still gathered around the tank.

“Your Highness, may I try?” A tall boy with hair that faded to teal at the tips was standing by the stage, gazing up at Adrien hopefully.

“You can try, but there’s no guarantee she’ll respond.” Adrien shrugged. This boy didn’t even have an instrument that he could tell, but it couldn’t hurt. The boy nodded, and headed for the tank, where the mermaid was watching him approach. The boy sat on the stool Chloe had abandoned and smiled at the mermaid.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly, lavender’s green. When I am King dilly, dilly, you shall be queen.” The mermaid beamed and twisted about as if twirling.

“Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so?” The mermaid sung back, not in the stilted words of before, but flowing and smooth. There was a challenging look in her eye, one that was matched by that in the boys.

“T’was my own heart, dilly, dilly, that told me so.” He shot back, smiling. The two began to sing in unison, and it entrapped Adrien, making him unable to look away.

“Call up your men, dilly, dilly, set them to work. Some to the plow, dilly, dilly, some to the fork. Some to make hay, dilly, dilly, some to cut corn, while you and I, dilly, dilly, keep our selves warm. Lavender’s green, dilly, dilly, lavender’s blue, if you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you.”

“Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, and the lambs play. We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm’s way.” The mermaid took over, placing one of her hands flat against the glass, while the other was fisted over her heart. “I like to dance, dilly, dilly, I like to sing. When I am queen, dilly, dilly, you’ll be my king. Who told me so, dilly, dilly, who told me so? I told myself so, dilly, dilly, I told me so.” She pulled out the last note, and Adrien was shocked to see the usually hateful mermaid, smile tenderly at the blue-haired boy. Then, there was a crash from behind him. Adrien wheeled around, trying to find the source, only to see a broken vase laying in the road.

By the time he turned back around, the blue-haired boy had thrown something into the tank. The mermaid grabbed it, and leapt out of the tank, flinging it about her shoulders. She landed not as a girl with the tail of a fish, but a seal. The boy scooped the seal into his arms, and ran for the water. He tossed the animal in, before turning to face Adrien.

“Take her again and we will sink your nation like we did Atlantis!” He bellowed, before diving into the water. Adrien ran to the edge of the dock, and waited, frantic. The boy was human, he would need to breathe eventually. He stood, frantically searching the water, before he saw them. The two were holding each other tight, wrapped in each-others arms. She was back to being a mermaid, her tail flicking just below the surface. When the young prince finally dragged his gaze to the boy, he was shocked. He now had a tail, longer than hers, that shimmered green and teal. The two were speaking in a language he did not understand, but from the way his hands cupped her cheeks it was a private moment. The mermaid flashed him a furious glare, before diving into the ocean.

“What just happened?” He asked.

“Dude.” Nino muttered. “I think your pet just ran away.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

In the year of 2021, no one cares about Tru Calling... and yet when I thought of writing some mermaid AU for mermay, Tru and Jack were the first ones to come to mind. I hope someone enjoys... Oneshot. Little Mermaid inspired.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31612613

Safe

Tru was a mermaid, who honestly loved her kingdom… but she longed for the land above, for all of the treasures that were housed there.

Or moreover... Tru loved what she had spied about humanity’s medicine, and she wanted to find a way to bring it into the sea. But she also knew this idea would never go over well, since her people rightfully hated what humans did to the environment.

Though what if she could find a way to heal fellow merpeople, without them ever learning that the knowledge came from the surface? It was Tru’s plan to try and get some of the stuff, and keep everyone in the dark about it, but there was also the chance she was too popular for that to happen. Since most of the time, mermen and mermaids alike followed their princess all over.

And it was that reason was why she'd decided that she needed his help: her mother’s enemy’s adopted son, who was worse than he was.

But desperate times called for desperate measures, so Tru was about to try and swim to Jack’s master's grotto… but before she could do that, she was stopped by none other than Jack himself.

And Tru would have blamed his suddenly being so close to her, on him secretly being a mind-reader or something… but she knew that it was no doubt because he was obsessed with her and liked to follow. So, why was she trusting him again? Tru asked herself, biting into her lip something fierce.

"Jack, what are you-"

But Tru’s words were cut off like scuba divers often were by seaweed, as the octopus swam over to Tru and twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. Tru hated to admit that she somehow felt… content like this in his presence, but she truthfully was.

"Off to see if anyone down here can help you become a doctor?" Jack deadpanned; and he guessed Tru’s thoughts as easily as one could figure that it was going to storm, just by seeing how dark it was.

Tru did not want to dignify this with a response, and  instead wanted to try to zing him with one of her own deductions, while swimming out of this Trench and into shallower waters. "I assume, Jack, that you're only here to live vicariously through me? Didn't you say once, that you also wanted to study herbs, too... but every time you do, you get sent back in time to before you got close to them?"

And Tru had expected that Jack may do many things with her accusation: to deny it, perhaps. Or to be angry that she'd guessed right… or even to be sad about his awful plight.

But what Tru had not expected, was for Jack to grab her and kiss her, and for her to surprisingly not hate it and pull him closer.

Jack was being shockingly gentle with her, Tru thought, just lightly pressing their lips together and wrapping his arms around her waist. It was Tru who was being more aggressive, in running her hands through her enemy's hair and wrapping her tail around his left side.

As they kissed, Tru thought she could guess Jack's meaning for all of this. He was probably saying: 'Thank you for believing me, about the horrible powers I got from Richard. And for hopefully realizing that when I go back in time and then travel back to the present, looking like I had my hand in the cookie jar, I really didn't do anything.'

And it hurt Tru that he had so much guilt about him, she supposed, but not enough so to really be able to put her finger on all of it. Which was why she still had questions when they finally broke apart. "Jack, what-"

The question Tru had begun to ask, was answered by the sadness in his eyes. And as if to prove his misery even moreso, he then swam up up up towards the sun, as if he were going to let it fry him, and Tru followed suit.

"If I help you get these meds, Tru, promise me you'll find a way to heal me from what I can do first."

And Tru gasped then; not because she couldn't believe Jack would ask that of her, but because he'd doubted that she would be good enough to do that in the first place. Shouldn’t the fact that she wanted to save people’s lives have been a big enough clue about that? "Yeah, Jack. Of course. I was planning on owing you a solid if you did this for me."

With clear relief written on his face then, Jack swam down back towards Tru.

And she thought that if she was going to operate on sea creatures first—because she did eventually want to get to humans somehow; she did—then she had an excuse to stay with Harri a little longer. So really, Jack had done something for her, huh?

[booklovingturtle]

Cardan finds out how Balekin tortured Jude

This turned out to be longer than planned. As soon as I submitted my last final assignment for the semester, I opened up Tumblr and wrote this for @duarteegreenbriar bc of this post. You can def expect another fic where he finds about Locke *wink wink*

I hope you enjoy it! This is kinda like hc/fic based in QON while Jude is still exiled. Also its unedited because I wanted to get this out before I went on Christmas break. 

“We have news for you,” was the Bomb’s way of greeting Cardan one earlier morning. Yellow and pinks drops of sunrise had just barely started to fall over Elfhame when he received the Roach’s message, asking to meet.

Not too far into Jude’s exile and a few months since the old Court of Shadows had been demolished meant that the High King and his Queen’s band of spies were meeting in an old cellar long since forgotten in the palace. The only way to even enter it was through an opening Cardan had used his new-found magic to make. The opening was hidden in a fake armoire of one of their guests rooms. The room itself was perpetual damp, insufficiently furnished, and lacking any of fun memories the old court held. But it was well protected from prying ears and hard to access so it would due.

“How are my favorite pair of mischievous friends?” Cardan smirked reflexively at the serious look on their faces. His tail twitched uncomfortably beneath his clothes.

Mouth in a thin line. Back straight. Eyes narrowed. Hand on nearest weapon. Yes, everything about the way they stood told him whatever he was going to hear would not be pleasant.

“We have news,” the Roach mimicked his companion’s no-nonsense tone.

“So I’ve heard,” Cardan rolled his eyes. He retied the thick red cape he’d thrown on himself to fight of the chill of the cellar. It gave his hands something to do other than twitch at his sides. “Jude?”

“Yes and no.” The Bomb started. “She’s fine. Safe as usually doing some odd jobs for a faerie in the mortal world.”

“This about what happened before her exile.” Roach continued. His beady eyes were unreadable as usual. “We looked into Balekin’s connections with the Sea as you asked us to. We found out what Orlagh had been doing with Jude while she was imprisoned.”

A lump sat in his throat. No matter where she was Jude always felt like the center of his world. He couldn’t go longer than an hour awake or asleep without thinking about her. Her time in the Undersea had only intensified the problem for him.

“Out with it. What did you discover?”

“You already know that Balekin thought he could glamour her. I-” the Bomb looked anxiously at the Roach. They shared a glance and she pulled a weathered envelope from inside her coat. “We think it might be best if you just read this. It’s a collection of court documents detailing what the Undersea would do to her.”

“I don’t understand. Why would they keep records of that? What use do they have of collecting memories of Jude’s torture? I thought those events were mostly private for Orlagh’s own pleasure.”

“We can only assume that there were more people attending them than Jude was led to believe. Perhaps as secret spectators. One can only guess what Undersea’s Queen was plotting.”

“There’s more. Some came from Balekin’s personal journals, uncovered despite Orlagh’s attempt to destroy any evidence of her alliance with him.”

Cardan couldn’t stand their cautious looks. He turned to face the wall behind him. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to feel such a heady mix hate and fear and sorrow and freedom all at one time. Every mention of Balekin’s name was like a blow to the stomach.

“Just tell me what happened.”

“We think it might be best if you read it. You don’t have to. There’s nothing really useful to us if you’d prefer to not know exactly what they did.” The Bomb said I’m a voice usually soft for her.

“She’s right. But I think it’s important that you know regardless. Take the papers. Read them if you want to. When you’re ready.” The Roach said in a way that suggested that it shouldn’t have even been an option to not read what was contained inside the envelope.

Cardan faced them again. The Bomb handed him the collection of papers and left. The Roach stayed back long enough to warn the High King.

“It won’t be easy. What you find in there.”

Cardan looked him in the eyes, trying to find some comfort or understanding that he could lean on. Instead he just found pity.

“Thank you. Tell the Bomb that I appreciate it. No matter what I find.”

Roach nodded and walked out of the cellar. Within seconds it was just Cardan standing in a damp cellar by himself. He stared at the weighted envelop. It felt like it was full of explosive lead, not weathered folded leaves of paper.

Cardan tucked it into his belt and trekked back up to his room. The guards lined outside of his chambers looked curiously at the sight of their High King. He closed the door behind him and stripped off the heavy cloak. Cardan sat at the bench at the foot of his large bed. He wasn’t sure if it was his right to know what happened to her during her imprisonment. If Jude had wanted to share those details with him then she would have.

Cardan stared at an empty corner of his room. A spiraling curl of vines snaked up the walls. White dahlia’s sprung up amidst the green leaves. He’d been practicing how to control his pull of the land for a few months now but it still felt odd to be able to sway nature this way and that.

He thought about the dizzying display of power he’d used when he was face to face with Orlagh. It had felt as if the very land he stood on bowed beneath his fists. He knew she’d never admit it but he remembered the look on Jude’s face when she’d first realized what was happening. She was impressed by all that he’d learned to do while she was gone.

Not gone. Captured. Held prisoner.

Cardan didn’t let himself second guess his decision. He yanked the envelop open and scanned the first few documents.

The mortal is starting to loose it’s sanity. It’s clear even the glamour can’t help it hold on much longer. It is much thinner than it had been when Orlagh first brought it. There are also a considerable number of marks left along its body. Rumor has it the princess herself may be responsible fo them.

Cardan felt like throwing up. He remembered how Jude had looked like a ghost when she'd first returned. All bones and angles when she’d been hard muscle and soft skin.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the images of her skin touching his. Of his fingers touching her. The papers in this hands made him sick to his stomach. They called her an it. And said she had marks. Not one but many.

The dahlia’s crumbled up and withered to dust. Hot pink heart-shaped buds bloomed in their place.

He flipped to the next page, recognizing the handwriting of the thick stationary paper. His hand was shaking by the time he go to the end of the torn journal entry.

Jude has been an interesting toy. A fun toy. Her attachment to my brother has been a mystery. I though perhaps she had some sort of secret or piece of black mail to hold over him. Even with the glamor, she hasn’t revealed anything if she does. Though the nature of their relationship is still unknown, I believe I have a way of figuring it out.

Cardan stood abruptly. His body hummed with nervous. His tail wriggled uncomfortably until it came loose. It swung behind him and Cardan had to step away from the bench to keep it from slamming against it. The next journal entry had him regretting he’d stood up.

Any suspicions I’d had of their relationship have been answered. I used a glamour to force her to kiss me as she would kiss my brother. It worked perfectly. It was horrendous. I hate myself for even asking her to do it. For degrading myself enough to touch a creature like her but it worked. She kissed me with all of the fires that mortal are described to feel when they love something. Their bright and easily extinguished fires. She looked at me as though I was the only man she’d ever seen and ever wanted to touch. I almost withdrew the demand but I’m glad that I didn’t. Had I gone back on my command, I never would have understood how deep her affection for him went. She truly cares for him.

The next question is how much does Cardan care for her? It’s clear he’s fascinated by her. Curious about her. But cats are curious of mice when they first chase after them. It’s after they’ve caught them beneath their claws that they bare their fangs. Perhaps that’s what Cardan has been doing. Though knowing the naive nature of my brother’s heart, I highly doubt it. I’ll find out soon enough. for the girl’s sake, I hope it’s later rather than sooner. Should Orlagh let her live long enough to ever see Cardan again, I’d love to watch him destroy that mortal love of hers.

Cardan’s knees gave out from under him. He stared at the letters for what felt like centuries. They didn’t feel real. Balekin had forced Jude to kiss him. He knew she wasn’t glamoured as he thought she had been. That meant Jude had to kiss him completely aware of her actions. She had to force herself for kiss Balekin in a way that would convince him of her love for his brother. Cardan reread it a forth time, praying that somehow the letters would rearrange themselves to tell him a different story.

Distantly he realized why the Bomb and the Roach had opted out of telling him themselves. How did you tell the High King of Elfhame that his abusive older brother forced the woman he loved to kiss him.

The paper crinkled in his hands. Cardan released an angry growl. His blood boiled as he read it for a sixth time. She never mentioned it. Not that they had much time before her banishment to talk through all the details. Nor was it likely that Jude, with her affinity for secrets and lies, would tell him the truth about the situation.

Cardan paced back and forth in the room. If she would just answer his damned letters. If he could just get her to come back to Elfhame and talk to her. To see her. To apologize for what happened between them. Between her and Balekin. He was never more grateful than he was in that moment that she killed him.

After reading the letter Cardan almost wished he’d come back to life just so he could drive the blade through his older brother himself. Cardan heard the crackling fire of the hearth. He threw the stack of papers into the fire. A thick puff of smoke fizzled out of the flames as they blackened into ash.

The ugly words disappeared from existence but the High King would never forget the torturous curves. He’d never forget what the Undersea did to her. What Balekin did to her.

Cardan rushed to his desk, brashly scribbling out a missive to send to Jude.

Jude, he started the letter. Jude. He couldn’t think of anything else to write to her. Jude. Please come back. Just come back. Jude. I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I promise. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude .Jude. Jude.

He’d filled the paper with her name. If he couldn’t see her then maybe the letters of her name would be enough to erase the sickness he felt after opening the envelope. 

-

Author’s Note: I couldn’t figure out how long she was exiled bc I’m still on campus and my books are at home so excuse the ambiguous timeline. If anyone knows the answer to how long she was imprisoned/exiled/when the letters were written please let me know.

[flyiing-giraffe]

Update #2

Ahhh, sorry I'm late! Hope you're all having a good week!

Working my way through the revisions of the older chapters! Really glad I'm doing this; I feel like I didn't really have the time to do the sentence-level revisions because of how I set the schedule. For the next one I think I'll definitely try something else.

I've been working on a pretty time-intensive project for my family recently, so I haven't has as much writing time as I would like, but hopefully I can take a lot of time for Haunted on the weekend.

It was an unexpectedly good day for kudos! Thanks again to everyone who has commented/left kudos/reblogged/retweeted stuff! It means a lot to me!

Below the cut is a scene from ch.5. In the final version it is replaced with the turtles scene, although it takes place on the boat (the trip was longer in the original version). Also I was messing around with canva and I made a collage Anyway, have a good week! Hope you enjoy!

“Hey, hey wake up.”

Crocodile blinks slowly, looking up to see Doflamingo leaning over the bed, a hand on his shoulder.

“What time is it?” Crocodile grumbles, turning over.

“It’s five, but just come with me for a minute, won’t you? I got something to show you.”

Crocodile groans, but begrudgingly gets up.

Doflamingo looks as exhausted as he feels, and Crocodile promises himself that they are actually going to sleep tonight.

It’s just so tempting not to.

They both have two entire lifetimes of sexual experience; naturally, they’ve been putting it to good use.

As if to remind him of the consequences, Crocodile’s entire body protests when he gets up.

Doffy wraps a fleece blanket around his shoulders and hurries him out of the bedroom, up onto the steps. The sun has not yet risen, but the night’s blackness has receded, leaving a blueish-gray sky in its wake. They move to the port railing. For a moment, nothing happens, and Crocodile is ready to start complaining about being awake for no reason when a spout of water shoots up a ways out from the boat, followed by the spine of a whale.

“I’ve been trying to pinpoint them for the last two days,” Doffy says, resting crossed arms on the railing and leaning forward.

Crocodile pulls the blanket tighter around himself and mimics Doffy’s posture. The whales breach the surface, their great tails disrupting the ocean as the dive back down.

They are absolutely enormous; truly a magnificent sight. They are possibly feeding, or engaging in some other group activity, because they stay in sight of the boat for much longer than Crocodile would have expected. By the time they are beginning to move off, the sun is shimmering on the horizon, turning the sea pink.

“Are you happy?” Doffy says, suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

It’s a very vague question, really. Generally? Right now? With the vacation?

“I mean, are you… happy, here. In this life, I guess. Does it… is it—does it feel worth it? To have come back?”

“I… it’s difficult to say. Why do you ask?”

“The whales. They’re some of the biggest things to ever live on this planet, you know. But I’ve seen creatures as big as islands. I’ve see men taller than houses; people who could turn into dragons or fire, or could level mountains with a sword. I think of those wonders, and this life fades like an old photograph. I wish I could onlysee whales. As they are. Understand them entirely in their context; be in awe of them. But they seem like… afterimages.”

Crocodile looks out at the ocean, where the pod is moving away from them. A whale jumps out of the water, briefly, landing with a huge splash. It is impressive. But, of course, he has seen better.

Crocodile sighs.

“We should learn to swim.”

Doffy laughs, startled, and turns to face him.

“What?”

“You are right, that there aren’t many things which can compare to what came before. We lost… so much. But there are things we can experience, that we can build, here, that we weren’t able to have before.”

Doffy smiles slightly.

“Like learning to swim.”

“Exactly,” Crocodile says with mock solemnity.

Doffy giggles, looks back out to the ocean. The whales are almost gone.

“There is much to grieve for,” Crocodile murmurs, “But there is… freedom, too.”

“Yes. I suppose so.”

They stay there, watching the sun rise over the water.

“Come,” Crocodile orders, when the whales are well and truly gone and the sun has cleared the horizon, “Back to bed.”

“To do what?” Doffy asks, eyes lighting up hungrily.

“To sleep, you insatiable wretch. I’m exhausted, and so are you.”

“Aww, is my darling Crocodile getting too old to keep up with me?” Doffy mocks.

Crocodile rolls his eyes, beginning to walk back towards the cabin. Doffy trails behind him.

“Shut up and let’s go.”

“If you want me to be quiet, I can think of a few things we haven’t tried yet that involve my mouth and your—”

“Enough,” Crocodile turns around to find Doffy at his back, grinning unrepentantly.

“Once more,” Crocodile says, sternly, holding up a finger, “And then we are going to sleep.”

“I think what I have in mind will convince you otherwise.”

“We’ll see,” he says, descending the stairs. Privately, he thinks Doffy may win this one, though. He does have a way with his mouth.

[purplesurveys]

1110

survey by evening-hush

Can you drive yet? Tell me what you think about it: I love being able to know how to do it. It’s super convenient and I appreciate how it allows me to travel on my own time and schedule.

What is your favorite time period in history to learn about? When it comes to learning history, it’s not really so much a certain period I like reading about but rather the sub-topic under it. That said, I like learning about social history the most. I’d much rather learn about the recipes people used to make than the weapons they used in war, or who conquered which lands.

What's the saddest report you have ever seen on the news? It unfortunately makes for somewhat frequent news here, but I always hear of news clips covering discarded fetuses - and sometimes even days-old infants - located in a trash bin. It makes me infuriated too, but for the most part it’s heartbreaking.

Describe what your smile looks like: I think I have quite a cheery smile. I just get insecure sometimes because of my teeth, but most of the time I like to smile big and have it look genuine.

What colors do you associate with all of the four seasons? As someone from a country that doesn’t actually get to experience any of the four seasons, here’s what I think of each: winter is white, summer is sky blue/yellow, spring is yellow/pink, and fall is maple-ish/orange.

In your honest opinion, what is the scariest sea creature you know? Erm, probably those deep-sea creatures that look more like rocks than fish.

Don't you think old people are awesome? I think most Baby Boomers suck, but there are some rare gems out there, I guess.

What is your favorite day of the week? Why? Friday, of course. Reaching the end of the day, knowing there’s a full weekend ahead of me, feels super relieving and freeing.

What time do you usually get to sleep at night? It varies. On weekdays I’ll sleep anywhere between 9-11 PM; and more recently, for weekends, I’ve been trying to stay up until midnight or beyond because I want to be able to catch up on the hobbies I don’t get to do on weekdays.

When you text, do you use text lingo? If it’s with a friend, yes. Never with a client or anyone I’m communicating with for official work purposes.

Oh! What's your name? Robyn.

Who would you cast to play you in a movie? I guess the obvious choice would be Vanessa Hudgens since she’s Filipina?? but idk. It would be neat to have someone as badass as Florence Pugh or Emma Stone to play me, though.

If you could go back in time & live in any decade, which would it be & why? I’d shake it up and pick some random, obscure, perhaps unremarkable decade like the 1570s. Just so I have absolutely no clue what to expect.

What superpower do you think would be the most handy in times of trouble? Manipulation of thoughts/emotions. It’s not the most ethical, but that’s not what we’re talking about here lmao.

Do you believe there is just one love for everyone, or...? I believe everyone can have their own truth when it comes to love.

What natural disaster scares you the most? Earthquakes.

Why are you best friends with your best friend? She just gets me, I guess. We get along very well, our humors match perfectly, but most of all she’s patient with me and I’ve always been able to see that she genuinely cares about me.

What quirk bothers you the most about other people? People are so quick to cancel others these days; it’s amusing to watch people enthusiastically pick fights over just about anything.

Would you ever marry for money? The idea itself is attractive, but I’m not sure I would actually push through with it. I think I have to love someone should I ever marry them.

What is one of the toughest things you have ever had to do? Move on with my life. Acknowledge the ugly emotions and acknowledge that I’m not doing ok.

What outrageous career could you see yourself wanting to do? This is outrageous for me, but modeling. The career itself is not strange, but I used to want to be a runway model in my early teens and it’s funny to look back on now.

Do you world peace is truly a possibility in the future? No.

What song lyrics best reflect your personality? Idk about personality, but right now, “Why do memories glow the way real moments don’t?” is super relevant to my life at the moment.

In what way would you want to help change the world? Being one with marginalized groups in their various fights and causes.

Do you think it is important to tell the truth or spare someone's feelings? It depends on the gravity of the situation, I guess? Like white lies are fine, but in more serious situations it’s always better to tell the truth. I remember that when my great-aunt died last year, all her siblings made it a point not to inform their brother (my great-uncle) who recently had a heart surgery and was thus very vulnerable and could possibly have an attack if he ever found out. They kept it from him for nearly the entire year and it drooooove meeeeee nutsssssssss. I suppose it was understandable for the first few days, but when those days turned to several months, I started to wish they’d tell him sooner because I felt like it would be a lot worse once he learned she’d been dead since the start of the year. Anyway, I was recently informed he knew about it already and I never heard drama come out of it, so I guess it was dealt with well.

What is the most awkward moment you have ever had to endure? Ugh, probably that time an online delivery arrived at home and it was a fucking vibrator/dildo meant for my parents.

When driving down the road looking for an address do you turn the radio low? Hahahaha yessss.

Pretend you are a really good cook, what meal would you make? Risotto.

What is your favorite piece of clothing in your closet? Why? My mom jeans. It’s a classic look that always works, plus it’s super comfy.

What do you think of when you look at the stars? Looking up at the stars means I’m thinking hard. It gets me in a reflective mood.

If you could say ONE THING to the president, what would it be? Ughhhh fuck you get your presidency over with already we are all fucking tired.

What is your favorite kind of weather? As long as it’s chilly I’m happy.

If a turtle doesn't have a shell, is he homeless or naked? Both, I guess?

What's one thing you feel you must do in your life before it ends? Travel to a different continent.

What Disney princess are you most like? Personality wise, I mean. Ariel was such a hopeless romantic and reckless and dumb when it came to love, so let’s go with her.

Tell me about your worst fashion mistake: I was a late bloomer and let my mom buy my clothes for me at ages where I definitely should’ve already stopped doing so.

Do you believe in astrology? No.

Do you look into people's eyes when you talk to them? Not always.

You can have one of the following two things: trust or love. Pick one. Don’t they come together though? If I love someone it means I trust them?? But it’s whatever. I’ll go with trust.

Are you the kind of friend that you would want to have as a friend? Yeah, I think I’m thoughtful and I like that I’m good at remembering small details about my friends. I’d love a friend like that.

What would be harder for you, to tell someone you love them or that you don't love them? Probably that I don’t. I’ve never had to do it before, either.

What do you think is the most important thing in this life is? Self-satisfaction.

What did you think about this survey thingy? :] Nice roster of random questions! I personally enjoyed it.

[let-it-show]

All The Love I Found In You 10/11

Finally got this part out! A fair warning, there is angst and a little darkness. Part 9 is right here! Well, Elsa goes to find Anna. It’s cold and emotional but also Gale’s just the best. Please go HERE for the 11th and final part! Tag as usual for @hellodemoiselle !!

"Don't panic. Do not panic. That won't help. Don't panic." Elsa paced the floor in front of the bed and pulled at her fingers as she looked down to stare at her palm. Her heart was racing in her chest and she was trying hard to shut down. It was all she could do to keep from closing her eyes and holding her arms. She counted her breaths and tried to feel better.

Anna couldn't be far. She probably went to the washroom, or even the bath. Elsa was being idiotic! Anna just had to get up, and she had bad timing, that was it. She'd stay put.

In the next moment Elsa dropped down on the bed, sitting on the edge and watching the door. Any moment Anna would walk in and she could get the fireplace going for her after giving her a kiss. She ran her hand over the blanket, it was smooth and soft and - she jumped back up.

The bed was made, no clothing on the floor. The glasses of water were gone too. That meant Gerda came in which meant Anna had indeed left it for the day. "Gerda!" Elsa yelled and dashed to the doorway. She shouted down the hall as she hurried. "GERDA!"

It was as she ran by that Gerda came out of her quarters, eyes wide and alarmed. "Dear! ...Your majesty, what ever is wrong?"

Elsa slid to a stop and nearly toppled when she turned to return to Gerda. "Gerda!"

"Yes?" The poor confused woman held out her hand. "Queen Anna, has something happened?"

Elsa grabbed her hand and let Gerda squeeze her own gently in an effort to calm her. The woman reached for her as if to pull her into a hug but as Elsa didn't move forward as well, Gerda paused. Anna must be okay hugging her, Elsa guessed, but she couldn't force that at the moment.

At the moment she had to focus on saying the right name.

"Gerda, where did uh, Elsa go?"

"Elsa? She said she was going to go visit her ice palace."

"The one on the North Mountain!?" Elsa asked incredulously. Why would she go there? Anna did enjoy going there to see Marshmallow and the Snogies in the past, but since it had been rebuilt she always seemed a bit tense when it was mentioned.

Elsa always knew she should have asked why. She thought at first it was because everyone had moved from there to a part of Ahtohallan. Marshmallow enjoyed going to the deeper levels of the glacier, unlike Elsa it was apparent he could delve as far as he pleased... The point was he didn't stay at the ice palace anymore and Elsa figured it made Anna feel weird.

She had also changed the construction slightly with a balcony that led around the mountain itself, to see the sun rise and fall and watch the sky with more of a view. She had thought Anna would like that, but she never expressed interest in going back more than once.

"Yes, that one," Gerda said and broke her concentration. "She didn't say why. I did not ask, your majesty. I nodded and asked when she would be back. She just said later."

"I see..." Elsa had no idea what that might mean, but it didn't matter. "Gerda, please tell the council I am leaving for the day. I need to get Elsa back soon for...for...something we talked about with Menander," she told her lamely.

Gerda nodded slowly. "Of course..." she said though concern was evident in her voice.

Elsa just smiled at her to try to reassure her. It was shakier than she meant it to be. "Okay. Thank you, Gerda. It's nothing bad, I just really want to find her," she said, not knowing how true that might be. It was her anxiety talking, it had to be her anxiety.

She stepped away abruptly. She didn't have anything else to say and didn't want to freak her out more. So, Elsa decided the best thing to do was stroll away and...out of sight. The first thing she was going to do was figure out how to get to the North Mountain. She could leave it be until Anna returned but she felt a sense of urgency.

Without Anna she wouldn't focus on anything anyway.

Even as she started to leave she turned around to the room again to get a cloak. The mountain was going to be cold, very cold, and she was awful at dealing with that still. Elsa chose a dark blue cloak and pulled a pair of light blue pants to wear under the dress. Some gloves found their way into a little tan cross-body bag with the crocus on it and then she was set.

The problem was that the North Mountain was not close at all. When she had gone before she created snow creatures to pull her along or to ride on. Before it had been rebuilt, sometimes Kristoff took both girls there in his wagon.

Elsa didn't have any idea what to use. She had no powers, no Kristoff, and asking anyone about getting a ride up there would bring up various questions she wasn't interested in dealing with.

Maybe a walk through town would bring her some sort of solution. If she went to the outskirts where some smaller shops were along with farms, she could find someone to take her in secret. The chances of someone just having a horse for her to use were slim, and talk would still get out...unless she bribed them, perhaps.

Her head was a mess.

On the way out the guards asked her if she needed anything, if she needed assistance, anything like that. She thanked and dismissed them and hoped they would leave her alone. She saw some of Menander's men as well and realized she would miss him leaving. Relief was found knowing he wouldn't feel snubbed by her. If anything he had encouraged her to follow after Anna.

When she was a short distance away from the castle gates, she got a pleasant surprise.

Something lightly tickled her face and swept her braid. In the air she swore she heard the light sound of laughter mixed with chimes, happiness and pure joy meeting. The wind was just a little warmer than it should be and she could pick out a few leaves zipping around.

"Gale," she said quietly, a smile on her lips as her spirit friend surrounded her in a hug. Even without her powers she could feel Gale's calm. Elsa felt she could cry, overwhelmed at seeing Gale again - or feeling her mainly. Even if she didn't miss the forest and hadn't thought much about her life there...

Gale was always welcome.

"You found me, you know who I am, don't you?"

As an answer Gale swirled calmly around her and chimed slowly. It made perfect sense to Elsa. Gale was glad to see her despite being in the wrong body. Elsa laughed, and her smile only grew. Affection from her strange friend was exactly what she needed. Gale played with her braid and danced gently against her cheeks.

"Ah, I didn't even know how much I needed you!" she said, looking to see if anyone was nearby. She didn't care if they saw her talking to the wind, everyone knew Anna did that, but she wanted it to be more of a private moment. "A lot has happened, Gale. I'll tell you, I really will, but I'm trying to find Anna if you care to accompany me. I have to get to the North Mountain..." she explained. She thought about asking for help but felt strange doing so.

Though around the forest and Ahtohallan Gale was all too happy to scoop her up playfully, she found herself shy to ask her to bring her to Anna. It was also a little scarier without powers to rely on. And yet...

Anna let herself be floated around and swept away by Gale whenever they saw each other. She had fun with the wind and Gale always seemed to tinkle cheerfully after spending time with Anna. Who wouldn't...?

"What do you think?" Elsa asked her, and again Gale wrapped around her. She swept Elsa's cloak suddenly and took off into town eagerly.

Perhaps that was her answer, and Elsa hurried to follow.

She hoped Gale would understand her decision and still see them from time to time in the castle. How was the wind spirit able to make her feel so thrilled so quickly? Would she feel so good when she learned?

Somehow Elsa had an idea Gale was already aware...

There was no way of knowing for certain yet and so she just kept following her into the town. Elsa needed to deal with Gale's knowledge later and focus on getting to the mountain right away. Maybe she should just ask Gale. There was no shame in it, and Gale might like it.

Elsa hadn't gotten very far before there was suddenly there was...something in the air coming towards her. Some object just flying her way. She stopped in confusion and stared. Of course she knew Gale was up to something, but what? Whatever it was looked thin against the sky but it kept coming closer.

Oh.

It was a carpet.

Gale landed it at her feet. "Should I just get on?" Elsa asked despite knowing. Gale chimed and Elsa stepped onto the carpet. It was black with green and purple leaves printed on it, and she quite liked it. As she allowed herself to sit down on the carpet - standing would be a hazard - she couldn't help admiring it. She had to purchase it since she was going to use it as transport, but she might have bought it anyway.

That was to be dealt with later and for the time being she felt her heart flutter as the carpet began to lift up. She knew she would be safe. She trusted Gale.

As she felt herself being raised into the air, she sought out something to cling to. All she had were the edges of the carper and her knuckles were white as she kept a tight grip. She took deep steady breaths as she felt the carpet move forward as it went up. Keep calm, it was okay, it was okay, she'd done other crazy things, she really had.

Before she knew it she was zooming over the houses and off toward the mountain.

If she had her powers she would have felt a lot less terrified. She trusted the spirit thoroughly. However, her entire past she had her powers to rely on in anything dangerous. How did Anna let Gale play with her so carelessly, zipping her over the trees and over the sea? Her bravery was something to behold.

Up in the air the cold hit her harder. Gale was trying to be efficient in her transport but the speed was freezing Elsa's cheeks, nose, lips...it was all uncomfortable. Elsa shivered and debated between holding the carpet or her shoulders. Her hands felt cold and dry but she couldn’t get herself to reach into the bag for her gloves.

If they never switched back, she was going to wear multiple layers of clothing every day for the rest of her life. She'd felt cold once before but that was different. She'd frozen before she could even try to process it.

Gale lowered slightly and slowed down. Elsa could only figure that she had sensed what was happening. After all, she didn't need to have powers to communicate with her friend.

The problem with a slower ride was that it only twisted Elsa's stomach into more knots. She wanted to see Anna so badly, she wanted to ask her how she still hurt and how she could fix it. Her head told her she couldn't.

At last the tall mountain came clearly into view. Elsa had wrapped herself more fully in her coat as her mind ran wild. She sat up a little straighter as she saw the gleam of her castle resting against the mountain and circling around the top. It sang to her, welcomed her. The serene palace felt like an echo of Ahtohallan as it tugged her heart so powerfully.

Whatever waited for her was what she was meant to find. Her true home. There was no question who she would see and her excitement began to pulse through her, hiding the nerves in her gut.

Floating closer she could see a figure watching, waiting. How Anna got there so quickly she could only guess. She probably made a high-speed polar bear that took her as Elsa sat in her meetings, or maybe Gale gave her a lift before Elsa found her. It didn't matter.

Anna wore a flowing light green dress with purple and pink gems glistening all over it. She had affixed a short purple cape that was semi-transparent. Her hair was down, over her shoulders as she rested her hands on the smooth railing of the balcony. A few feet behind her was the side of the mountain the palace leaned against. Her face held an unsurprised look, eyes focused on Elsa. The was a little smile on her face.

Slowly the carpet lowered, hovering just over the icy surface. Anna turned to face Elsa and offered her hands. Elsa eagerly took them. Her own hands felt numb from the air and Anna's still held human warmth in them even if it wasn't very strong. Anna's helped her step down and squeezed her hands gently. Gale swirled around them both calmly before trailing away, taking the carper with her.

"Here you are," she said to Elsa and her smile faltered just slightly.

"Why here?" Elsa asked as she slowly looked around. The view in the daylight was spectacular but she couldn't really focus on it. "Why the palace?"

"Felt like I needed to be here, I guess. And I needed somewhere I could really think, really feel...ah...free." She immediately looked guilty. "Not that I feel trapped! I..."

"I know." Elsa understood entirely. "This place is good for thinking, for clearing your head."

"It is." Anna began to smile again.

Regardless of the returning smile Elsa felt something was off. "Anna...I need you - I really need you to be completely honest with me about everything you've felt. That's-even if there's something you're scared to say. Even if you feel you could hurt me."

"I couldn't stand to hurt you," Anna said truthfully as she looked down at their hands.

"And yet, I've hurt you again and again," Elsa tried to catch her gaze as Anna had done so many times before. "Speak up."

"I've been honest. I was so sad when you stayed behind. I was heartbroken. I don't know how I made it through to now in the first place." She kept looking down. "The night we seem to have switched, I was curled up in that bed thinking I wouldn't be able to take it anymore. It felt like I reached my limit. I don't even know what I mean by that..."

"That night I wasn't just watching the storm, Anna." It was Elsa's turned to squeeze her hands and tell the truth about those circumstances so she could block out the crushing misery that had been Anna's state of mind. "I went out there and stood in it, I wasn't careful, my thoughts had become overwhelming. I wanted to distract myself from the way I missed you. The way I yearned to have you at my side. I stood where the lighting could strike and the rain could hammer down and I just didn't care. My head was too messed up. I was reckless, what am I without your love to hold?"

"You were out there...on purpose? I knew that but you went out..." Anna asked right away, as soon as she could. She was looking at Elsa with confusion. "You were doing that with me on your mind?" Anna's eyes narrowed and her grip on Elsa's hands loosened.

Elsa didn't let them go. "I know! I know, Anna, I..."

"I was sad, but I was just in bed. I wasn't careless!" she said angrily. She pulled her hands away.

Elsa wilted. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have-I know I-"

"All you had to do was come back! You didn't have to put yourself in danger! You didn't! I was right there at the castle, I was laying in my bed with my eyes sore from tears and head pounding. You only had to come in and stroke my face like you do when you arrive in the night. You just had to crawl into the bed like you do and put your arm around me. Any of that! Instead you stood in a storm! Is this the way you show me your love, Elsa?" Anna had stepped back and snow grew around here, swirling from the ground.

"Anna it-it was just a storm! I could duck into Ahtohallan anytime I wanted, I could make an ice dome to hide in anytime...I was in an odd state and I felt like I was about ready to rip my hair out trying to understand what was going on inside me. That's not an excuse, it's-"

"Then what is it?" Anna asked as snow whipped around. The cold intensified.

Elsa's teeth chattered. She held the cloak around her and tried to stay warm but the chill was burrowing under her skin and into her bones. It scared her. It hurt her. "Anna..."

"I want you to stop doing that!" A blast of cold air almost knocked Elsa over and made her feel even worse. Her mind raced to find what Anna meant. Why was she flipping out so terribly?

"Stop doing what!?" Elsa yelled in confusion. She was getting lost. Stop being reckless? Stop leaving? Hadn't she agreed?

"Stop risking your life like it means nothing!" Anna yelled back, and all the snow came at Elsa with a 'whoosh' sound, knocking her down entirely that time. She landed on her butt and slid, no resistance on the ice. It hurt. And she was cold all over.

She felt a lot of guilt knowing that there was a time she made people feel that way. She'd always felt bad about it, but...

But she made herself focus on Anna even if her head spun and all she wanted was to be warm with Anna. "I haven't done that..."

Anna took a deep breath before she managed to find her words. "I heard whispers that when Hans confronted you in the dungeon about the eternal winter, you had spoken wishing he had not saved you because you were a danger. When you thought-thought I was dead you turned your back to Hans to let him strike and kill you. You gave up!"

"I thought you were gone, and because of me-"

"Then when you crossed the dark sea...I tried so hard to protect you. I tried so hard." Anna sobbed and tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I told you I believed in you and begged you not to leave alone and you still did. You did it, and you-you died. You actually died. Elsa do you know what that did to me?"

The wind settled. The snow settled and an eerie silence took over the mountain. She missed the little snowmen Anna had produced before. Elsa studied Anna as she pulled herself to her feet and turned her words over in her head. "We've talked about this, a couple of times," she said, recalling a chat they had late at night some weeks ago. "Anna I don't know what else to say. I'm so very sorry for how I hurt you. I will do anything I can to make it up to you! I cannot erase what happened, I can only ask for you to trust me."

"It's a pattern Elsa. You've tried to throw yourself away numerous times now. You don't see your own value, no matter what."

Elsa walked forward and opened her mouth to protest, but realized Anna was right. She stopped and stood.

Anna wiped her face, tears flowing freely. "I'm scared for you. I'm so scared for you. I love you so much and I'm terrified to lose you. Maybe if we stay like this, if I'm in your body, I can protect you. I can protect me. I can't feel what I felt in that cave again, I can't feel what I did when you closed your door to me, I can't..." Her cries overwhelmed her and she dropped her face to her hands. "I can't lose you. I can never lose you."

Stay like this...

That's what Elsa had pushed her to. She felt sick with herself and scared for Anna at the same time. She also had no idea what to say, how to respond, because even though she meant every assurance she uttered the words held nothing until she could prove it.

Well, maybe she could. "Anna...may I..." She wanted to ask if she could step closer, but it felt like a bizarre question. She reached for her hesitantly with one hand, the other clutching the rune around her neck.

"Yes. Always yes. I'm scared of losing you and even more terrified of never being held by you again." Anna looked up from her hands slowly. Snow glittered and swirled slowly around her ankles. Elsa knew it wanted to rise once more but Anna was tired.

Elsa carefully took her in her arms and simply held her at first, her face in the crook of her neck. She couldn't think of words that would convey all the guilt she felt. "I know I messed up," she said and her voice came out thick as she shifted her head slightly. Her eyes stung and she knew she was crying even if she hadn't felt it sneaking up. The troubled breathing from Anna didn't help. "I wanted to protect you for so long I stayed away, both behind the door and when I ran on coronation day. I don't want to...I don't want to die or throw myself away, Anna. I was ready to let Hans take my life because after all I put you through - put us both through - I thought I had still lost you. I couldn't protect one person I loved, how could I protect a kingdom? I know it was a foolish thought. I was struck with grief and how I wish you hadn't had to see that." She really did. She put ice and pain in Anna's heart.

"Elsa..."

"You tried so hard for me in the forest. I just kept pushing you away and I regret it deeply, Anna, I regret it more than I can say." That was when Elsa broke into very real, harsh sobs. They erupted painfully from her chest and throat. "I didn't understand exactly what was happening to me and it was a mystery I was so focused on unwrapping and fixing. I hurt you, the person who most believed in me and gave me all the strength to do what I wanted to do, I hurt you. I..." Then she left her.

Elsa's shoulders shook and she cried hard. She couldn't remember a time when she sobbed so much aside from when she thought Anna had perished as a frozen statue.  Tears streamed continuously from her eyes and she couldn't silence the sounds escaping her. She couldn't tell if the shaking was from her or her sister, they cried together as one soul and even in her remorse it felt fitting.

"Elsa, I...I forgive you but I..."

"Please, even if you didn't, I'm not leaving you. I refuse to leave you. You don't have to stay as me to protect me. I hope you don't." Elsa turned to kiss her damp cheek, afraid Anna might pull away but she didn't.

"Do you miss your powers?" Anna asked, and there was a slight tone of helplessness.

She did, she wouldn't hide it. "Yes, but more importantly..." She kissed her again. "I miss your cheeks, I want to kiss the freckles on your cheeks, not mine. I miss watching your hair in the wind, miss the way your hands are so warm in mine." It was all true. She wanted to kiss Anna in Anna's body, wanted to taste Anna's mouth and skin and feel Anna's body hugged close to her own. She ran her hands down her arms as Anna studied her.

"I-I want to rest my head on your chest, not mine," she said awkwardly and her eyes went wide as she seemed to realize what she was saying. "Not because your chest is-mine isn't-"

If they weren't both crying and things weren't screwed up, it would have been so cute.

Elsa searched her face and kissed her lips briefly, sliding down in front of her as her hands moved to trail down Anna's sides. She knelt in front of her and rested her head on her stomach, arms around her again. "I want your cute stomach, I can't kiss my own." That was true. It felt too strange and she felt a little flutter against her cheek as Anna attempted an awkward laugh. Elsa smiled despite her tears.

Elsa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I just want my Anna, I want my true love in her own perfect form. And I want to spend all my days making sure she knows I won't leave her again."

That was when it happened.