#ambient waterfall sounds

[esquitor]

y'all have no idea how much i've written in 2.5 weeks. i've written just shy of 50k words. granted most of it was pre-scripted and some copy pasted directly from my script draft but i've been plonking out some 2-3k words a day at best and 1-2k at worst each day.

i have two chapters ready to post, 3 chapters that need editing before posting, and one at 4k words after 1.5 days

this is ridiculous. it's disgusting.

thank you stimuwrite. clicky noises supreme.

[ckret2]

Chapter 47 of human Bill Cipher thinking that being imprisoned in the Mystery Shack is looking pretty good right now:

The Eclipse: Part 5

Bill and Ford are just... so energized and enthusiastic after their near death experience. Not to mention fashionable.

But they've got nothing on Dipper.

And, at long last, Ford and Dipper badger Bill—who's just too tired to lie—into explaining what kind of an "eclipse" involves a giant flying axolotl making gravity disappear.

####

When they reached the cave, Ford discovered that his antique lantern was too waterlogged to light.

"I'm not sure how we're getting to the top now," Ford said. The cavern directly behind the waterfall had some ambient lighting, but it wouldn't carry very far. "I know you can see, but I don't trust you to lead me through a cave system in the dark, no offense." He was surprised at himself for saying no offense.

"If I was planning to let you fall off a cliff, I could've saved myself a swim in the lake." Bill had taken off his backpack and was rummaging through it. "Didn't your lantern go out when you took four-eyes hiking through here? You should have learned your lesson."

Bill must have meant Fiddleford, though it was strange to hear him single out Fiddleford as "four-eyes" when Ford wore glasses too. "I did learn my lesson. I brought three flashlights as backup," Ford said. "Which are in Dipper's backpack."

Bill laughed weakly.

"Did you bring a flashlight?"

"Better." Bill pulled out a kazoo. He blew a stream of water from it, shook it, and then took a deep breath and played a long high note that wavered up and down.

Ford cringed at the noise. "Bill, what—?"

Bill held up a finger to silence Ford. Okay, fine. He was curious now.

It took a few moments of increasingly irritating kazoo playing, but Ford heard a soft clinking sound coming from the deeper caverns; and then several geodites—small creatures that looked like stone orbs with crystal limbs and teeth and glowing eyes—curiously emerged into the main cavern. Ford hadn't seen these creatures since he'd documented them in the eighties. He hadn't known they could be summoned via kazoo. They began making a high pitched humming along with Bill's kazooing. 

"There you are." Bill stuffed the kazoo into his backpack and crouched down, holding out a hand until a couple of geodites crept closer to inspect it; and then he scooped up the closest one. The others startled into breaking off singing, but hovered nearby, chirping and clicking. "Okay, grab a flashlight." The light the geodites' eyes gave off wasn't very bright; but it was enough for Ford to see Bill's smug smirk. They proceeded into the caves, and a dozen-odd more geodites—perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps out of concern for the two hostages—followed along behind them.

The climb went much slower than it had just a few hours earlier. Unsurprisingly, without low gravity on his side, Bill was the holdup this time. Not only was he not as experienced in spelunking as Ford, but between his waterlogged dress shoes and his borrowed trout slippers he didn't have any appropriate footwear, and he'd elected to carefully climb barefoot again. When Ford had climbed up this path with Fiddleford in the 80s, it had been a six hour climb. He had no idea how long it would take with Bill.

But even at that, Ford hadn't expected Bill to need to pause so often to get his energy back. It seemed like the more Ford recovered from their fall in the lake, the weaker Bill got. In any other situation, he'd suspect Bill of slowing them down on purpose, but after... well, even that aside, Ford couldn't think of any reason Bill would want to delay getting home.

"It's just this body that's dizzy," Bill said, the fourth time they had to stop for him to sit. "Probably one of those... counterproductive stress reactions human bodies get." He wiped a film of sweat off his forehead, then stopped to examine how his hand trembled when his geodite's spotlight eyes fixed on it. "That or it's because I've only had a handful of cereal for the past two days."

Ford stared at him. "You what? Why?"

Bill shrugged. "Body wouldn't let me get more down. Wasn't my idea."

"Well, for goodness's sake, eat something now."

Bill took off his backpack, pulled out a cereal box, and opened it. He grimaced. He poured out a puddle of sugary lake water and dissolved cereal.

Of course. "Here." Ford pulled a tube of astronaut meat out of his backpack and offered it over. "It's not the most nutritionally complete meal supplement, but it's something. It'll have protein."

Bill took the tube with a grimace, but squeezed out a dollop of meat paste and licked it; and then he gagged so hard he doubled over. He clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from retching and offered the tube back. "Mmmf." The geodite hopped out of his lap in alarm and retreated to the group of hangers-on traveling with them.

The meat paste wasn't great, but that was a disproportionate reaction out of the alien who liked to mix chocolate sauce and mustard. This was a bigger problem than Ford had anticipated. "Keep it. If you can get down even a tiny bit every few minutes, that's better than nothing."

Bill nodded jerkily.

"I think it's better if we reach Dipper and get out of here as soon as possible."

Bill nodded more enthusiastically.

What would they do if Bill couldn't make it the whole way? Would Ford have to leave him in the cave and come back for him later? Ford hadn't tied the infinity belt's cable to Bill like he'd meant to, he just realized. It seemed unnecessarily cruel to try now; but it might be useful if he did have to leave Bill behind. He didn't know that they had any better option, he couldn't carry Bill all the way up and down. Especially since Bill had let go of his geodite, and Ford suspected the rest might abandon them if he put down his own...

They'd have to figure that out if it came to it. For now, they kept walking—Ford glancing back regularly to check on Bill, and Bill pretending he didn't notice.

####

After another half hour and another two increasingly frequent breaks, Ford saw a faint light in the tunnels ahead—yellow-white, not like the geodites' natural blues and purples. "Bill, is that...?"

"Hm?" Bill looked in the direction Ford was pointing. His right eye twitched, and then he had to squeeze his eyes shut in pain. "Yep. Boy child at 12 o'clock."

Ford called out, "Dipper?"

"Great Uncle Ford!" Dipper's voice echoed through the caves. There was a sound of clattering rocks as Dipper scrabbled down the tunnel to join them. The geodites scattered in fear, peering out from behind stalagmites as Dipper's flashlight swept over the scene. "Grunkle Ford! Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Are you—?"

Dipper collided with Ford to hug him. (Ford held his geodite out to the side so he could return a one-armed hug.) "I'm so sorry I saw you go over the cliff but I couldn't do anything I was in the mindscape the whole time something sucked my soul out of my body—"

"Not it, I'm innocent," Bill said unnecessarily, "nobody look at me." He'd taken advantage of the break to immediately sit on the ground. His abandoned geodite crept back over to check on him.

"—and—and wow, that was the Axolotl you were talking about, right?" Dipper let go of Ford to gesture like a fisherman demonstrating the size of an enormous catch, "It was huge, it had to be—I don't know, as long as the county? The whole state? How did it get so big? Is the Axolotl an alien or some kind of mutant Earth axolotl? Are all axolotls aliens—?"

"Now, hold on," Ford said, putting a hand on Dipper's shoulder, "what huge axolotl? What are you talking about?"

"You didn't see it?" Dipper paused, looked Ford up and down, and said, "What are you wearing?"

Ford grimaced, tugged his bandanna up a little higher, and turned his geodite away when it tried to aim its spotlight eyes at his neck to see what he was doing. "We had to borrow some dry clothes."

"He couldn't see the Axolotl," Bill said. "You shouldn't have, either."

"Sor-ry. Getting sucked out of my body wasn't my idea—"

"Hold on," Ford said again. "What do you mean, sucked out of your body?"

As they headed back down toward the waterfall, Dipper and Ford exchanged their versions of events. It didn't take long for them to realize Bill had saved both their lives with a swift efficiency that, had it been applied to any less altruistic a task, could have been called "ruthless." They didn't say anything, but neither one could stop from glancing back toward Bill.

"What?" he snapped, clinging to his geodite a little tighter like he thought they were planning to take it. "I don't owe you an explanation. You're not dead! Be grateful. Stop looking at me."

They stopped looking at him. Bill should be gloating about them owing him their lives. He should be convincing them they had to pay back their debt. Silence alone would have been worrying; but bristling like he wanted them to forget what he'd done was baffling.

As Dipper finished explaining his version of events, he said, "I think I remember meeting the Axolotl before—like you said." He directed this last comment back over his shoulder toward Bill.

Bill—whose entire attention had been focused for the last ten minutes on walking without collapsing, tripping, or dropping his geodite—simply muttered, "My condolences."

"Wait," Ford said, "You've... met a giant invisible axolotl before?"

"Mabel and I both did."

"When?"

Dipper opened his mouth, paused, and glanced back again at Bill for help.

It took a few seconds for Bill to register the question. "Oh—they've never met before. Not in this reality."

Exasperated, Dipper asked, "Then why do I remember it?"

"I told you—echoes," Bill said. When Dipper continued giving him an expectant look, Bill sighed deeply and said, "This is an embarrassing oversimplification, but you're at least familiar with the concept of branching timelines, right?"

"Of course I am. Every time you make a decision, the timeline splits into two paths—"

"Cute that you think it caps out at two," Bill said. "And a decision doesn't always split the timeline, sometimes the branches collapse back together depending on the gravity of the decision you made. I don't literally mean a decision 'you' made—you've never made a decision that important—but sure, you've got the basic idea."

"Fine," Dipper snapped. "So I met it on another branch, right? When?"

"Never," Bill said.

"Okay. Yes. But there is a branch where... some version of me met it. Right?"

"It depends on how you define 'is.'"

Dipper puffed out his cheeks with the effort of restraining a yell. He looked at Ford for either help or sympathy.

Ford winked surreptitiously at Dipper and said, "It's probably some complicated chronological issue. I doubt Bill can explain it in a way humans can understand." Under his breath, he loudly muttered, "Some 'teacher.'"

Bill straight-armed Ford aside to walk beside Dipper. "You humans have no sense of humor," he said. "I said you met him never because it's literally true. You had an accident that landed you in a time and space outside time and space—the meeting happened never and nowhere. It's where he prefers to take visitors. That timeline terminated after your meeting—and I don't mean you died, I mean he terminated that entire timeline."

"Really?" Dipper shivered. "With... With everyone in it? Why did he do that? Did something dangerous happen in that timeline, or was it unstable, or...?"

"That's how he usually ends casual meet-and-greets," Bill said. "Higher dimensional beings. He sees your reality from a perspective unimaginable to you. Remember when I told you you're just a movie projecting on a wall to him; he's got no problem with pulling the film out of the reel to inspect a few frames and then turning the entire projector off when he's done. What does he care if that's somebody's entire reality?" He paused to think that over. "Maybe the projector metaphor's getting strained. Imagine flipping through a book with all the pages out of order, and meeting him is like somehow flipping to a page outside the book... No, that's a little too contrived. I'll stick with the projector."

"When did we... when would we have met him?" Dipper asked. "And—when I say 'when' I mean—you know what I mean."

"You mean, when would you have made the decisions that could have led to you meeting him? Depending on your perspective, either last August or 207̃05. Time travel was involved."

"Last August..." Dipper thought back. "Was that when we were—?"

"Treasure hunting, yeah. By the by, I never asked—" Bill gestured vaguely around them at everything in general, "—which dimension did I end up in? Is this the one where you went hunting in the 1400s or 1800s?"

"Uh—1800s."

"Hm. Knew this wasn't a 207̃05 treasure hunt timeline, Questiony doesn't have a pet enslaved time pirate."

"A what?"

"So you never had a chance of meeting the Axolotl anyway," Bill said. "Hey, fun fact! Did you know there's a time pocket where twelve million alternate versions of you, your sister, and the puppet with the goggles failed at your quest and plummeted out of time? I wonder how long the last of them survived! I meant to check in after Weirdmageddon. Human flesh isn't that nutritious and doesn't have much water, but with millions of bodies and a little determination— Hey, wanna know how long you all were there before you started resorting to cannibalism—?"

"No," Ford said before Dipper had to. "And I'll thank you not to get off topic to try to give my gnephew more nightmares."

Bill shot him a sideways glance. "Remind me to tell you about the time pocket formed by all the timelines where you and Specs did your first portal test without checking your math."

"So if I wasn't even supposed to meet him—how did I see him today?" Dipper asked. "Did he pull me out of my body into the mindscape so we could talk, or...? But he didn't even tell me anything, was he just trying to get me to remember meeting him in the terminated timeline—?"

"He wasn't trying to do anything," Bill said. "He wasn't here for you, he didn't care. Shadow on the wall."

"Then what was he here for? You?"

It took Bill too long to answer. He just shrugged vaguely. "Probably not."

"Huh." Instead of questioning Bill, Dipper briefly turned introspective himself, gaze far away and thoughtful. "I think I remember a little more about meeting the Axolotl now. The first time, I mean."

"Oh, do you?" Bill asked. "Ha! Poor kid."

"Mabel and I were in some kind of rocket car?" Dipper's brows furrowed in concentration. "And the Axolotl had a... bean bag chair?"

Bill scoffed. "He still has that old thing?! Wow."

"It was really comfortable."

"It's also really tacky."

"You talked about him like he was some kind of... of big... eldritch cosmic horror thing," Dipper said. "What kind of a cosmic horror has bean bag chairs?"

"What, do you think being a vast multidimensional amphibious monstrosity with an incomprehensible mind and a body that can only been seen in lower dimensions as grotesque shapeshifting cross-sections protects you from having bad taste? He'll flay your sanity straight out of your gray matter—and you won't even have the comfort of knowing your mind-shredder had nice interior decor sensibilities!"

"I can sympathize with the experience," Ford muttered. "I was driven to the brink of paranoid madness by a nightmare demon who thinks Doric columns go with checkerboard flooring."

Bill let out a shrill "Ha!" and smacked Ford's shoulder.

"But he remembered me when we met," Dipper went on. "He told me to say hi to Mabel. And—the last time we met, we—talked. I don't remember it all yet, but... you were wrong about him. There was nothing insanity-inducing about him. He was just... nice."

"You don't think the madness sets in all at once, do you?" Bill turned back to Dipper, with an air of what Ford uncomfortably felt like was ill intent. "Go on then—what did you talk about? You can't remember it, can you? Why not? Just a harmless little conversation, right?"

Dipper frowned in thought. "There was something important, but—I can't remember what it was. What was it?" He muttered, "I know it was something important—"

"And there we go!" Bill gestured at Dipper with a flourish, triumphant. "Now you're digging for the significance of the whole thing. You're trying to comprehend the motives of something that has a state of existence your mind wasn't built to understand! You'll either go mad trying to understand his motives—or you'll go mad because you do understand. You're doomed now, kid—this is gonna haunt you for the rest of your days." He laughed. "Try to stop thinking about it now while you're ahead!"

"I'm not going insane," Dipper said. "Just shut up, I'm trying to remember."

"'I'm not obsessed, I swear! I can stop thinking about it any time I want!' Sure."

"Shut up," Dipper repeated. "It had to have been something important! Otherwise why would he dragged me out of my body and—and shown me the fourth dimension just so I could meet him?"

"Don't sound so self-important! You never saw the fourth dimension; if you had, you wouldn't think he looks like an axolotl. He visited this dimension's mindscape," Bill said. "And he didn't even mean to drag you into the mindscape! It was just a side-effect of his gravitational pull. He tugged you toward him just like everything else in town; but Earth'sgravity doesn't extend through planes like the mindscape, and his does. Yanked your spirit right out of your body."

"Then why was I the only one?" Dipper demanded. "Why didn't you or Grunkle Ford leave your bodies?"

"Your spirit's more loosely attached to your body than ours."

"Why?!"

For a moment, Bill's face twisted with displeasure; and then he sighed in resignation. "Ah, heck with it. You've been astral projecting."

Dipper's mouth worked uselessly. He croaked, "What?"

"It's when you—"

"I know what it is! I mean—what? How? When?"

"At least as long as I've been here. How long have you been having those out-of-body dreams?"

"Y—!" Dipper socked Bill's arm. Bill didn't even flinch. "You said those were nightmares!"

"And I lied," Bill said tiredly.

"Why?!"

"Thought you'd be annoying about it."

"I've been dealing with this all year, you—!" Dipper groaned in aggravation. "Why am I astral projecting! I wasn't trying to learn or anything!"

"How should I know, I wasn't around. Best guess, I think I ripped up the Velcro sticking your soul to your body when I yanked you out to puppet it," Bill said. "Oops."

Dipper gaped at him in outrage. "'Oops'?! That's all you can— I've been terrified and I thought it was a nightmare and it was real all along and it was all your fault and you won't even—"

"I knew you'd be annoying."

"I'm annoying?! How would you like it if you'd spent a year getting dragged out of your body in your sleep—!"

Bill abruptly stopped walking, turned toward Dipper, and said with an intensity that startled Dipper into silence, "You don't have the slightest idea how much I'd like it. How would you like it if you'd been trying for weeks t—" Bill cut himself off before he could get more heated; and instead, only said, "If you. Wanted to get out of your body. And couldn't. And some brat down the hall is doing it without even trying."

Dipper remained frozen, jaw locked tight in a grimace, until Bill turned away and trudged on. Dipper snapped, "But I don't want to do it. And it's your fault I am."

"Great. Nobody's satisfied." Bill sighed. "Make the most of it. Watch late night TV. Learn to meditate or something, I don't care. You've got nothing to worry about, it's harmless." He paused. "As long as nothing else crawls in your body while you're outside of it."

"WHAT?!"

"It's fine. Nothing'll get you in the shack through the unicorn hair barri... hm. Well—you're safe in the shack."

"But I have to go home at the end of summer! Will something be able to get me then?!"

Bill shrugged. "Hypothetically."

"Am I gonna die?!"

"Given my understanding of human mortality? Sure, sooner or later. Wanna hear your top five most likely causes of death?"

"No! Is it possible to—to stop? Can I control the astral projecting?"

"Yeah, sure, I guess. Ask me next time you're out of your body. I'll show you"

"Can't you show me n—"

"No. Not while you're in your body."

Dipper scowled. "Fine! Next time I'm projecting, I'm kicking you awake until you help me." He turned away from Bill; and, after a moment of fuming, mumbled to himself, "If I've been astral projecting... then that time I visited the neighbors... oh, man..." He trailed off, getting lost in his own thoughts.

Keeping silent during that discussion had been agony for Ford.

Every few seconds, he'd wanted to butt in either to eagerly ask for more information about the Axolotl or astral projection, or—far more often—to express his rage on Dipper's behalf, that Bill (of course!) had put him through this, and then not even had the decency (of course!) to try to rectify it.

But it was Dipper's conversation. It was about Dipper's problem, and anyway Dipper had been trying so long to pry some sort of useful information out of Bill—it would be cruel of Ford to snatch the conversation away from him when he was finally getting somewhere. He'd have a lot to discuss with Dipper once they were home and could get away from Bill.

But staying outside the conversation had let him observe three points he might have otherwise missed.

One: Bill really wasn't himself. Back when he'd been playing as Ford's muse, whenever he got to answer questions, he'd always done it with an air of theatricality and barely-suppressed glee; and after he'd given up that act, he'd answered questions with smug arrogance, the glee turned to sadistic delight at the bad news he could deliver. Now, he simply answered them. Even his attempts to be condescending gradually got less enthusiastic until they petered out completely.

Two: Bill was answering questions he never would have answered that morning. After telling them as little as he could about the thing coming to Gravity Falls, even trying to avoid admitting it was the Axolotl, now he was freely talking about the Axolotl's taste in furniture as though he knew the beast personally. After hiding that Dipper was astral projecting for over a month, he simply told him. Heck with it. He'd admitted it was probably his fault. He'd said the last two words Ford had ever thought he'd hear come out of Bill's mouth: I lied.

Three: this was the longest Bill had walked without needing a break all day. His voice was stronger. His steps were more steady. Ford had even seen him squeeze out a few dollops of astronaut paste between comments—and he struggled to make himself swallow, but he didn't gag.

And now that Dipper had stopped asking him about the Axolotl and about astral projection, Bill's footing was growing less certain again. He wove unsteadily on the path and had to pause to lean a hand on a stalactite, taking deep breaths. "Gimme a second."

Bill was distracting himself. He was keeping himself going through conversation, the simple ritual of receiving and answering questions. Ford understood: sometimes, in desperate circumstances, you had to burn yourself out to get somewhere safe enough to collapse and recover. When you had no choice but to push yourself, the best thing you could do was think about anything but your exhausted, failing body. It made it easier to keep moving and burn through what energy you had left.

Ford had once wondered if his "muse" was some manner of creature that was compelled to answer the questions his protégés asked him. This was perhaps the closest Bill had ever gotten to actually being such an entity: answering questions because he had to to go on, and willing to give away almost anything as long as it kept him moving.

Ford stopped next to Bill. "So. The Axolotl was the source of your 'gravitational eclipse,' I suppose."

"Astute observation," Bill said flatly.

"I take it that it isn't 'eclipsing' gravity so much as canceling it out. The Axolotl must have a mass similar to Earth's, if the force it exerts flying by above us is nearly identical to the force of Earth below us."

"More or less."

"But according to Dipper's observations, this Axolotl is only the size of Oregon at most. Did he underestimate its size? Or perhaps it's incredibly dense...?"

Bill gave Ford a sharp sideways glance. Were this any other conversation on any other day, this would be when the gloating started. Well, well, well, look who finally believes I was telling the truth, finally crawling back to me to give you all the answers you can't find yourself— But Bill only looked away again, pushed himself back upright, and kept walking. "You're the square looking at the sphere and thinking it's a circle," Bill said. "The majority of the Axolotl's mass is in dimensions you can't see. The little bit of him that's visible in the mindscape is just a... a feeler. Or an anglerfish's lure. The rest of him is close enough to exert a gravitational pull—but not in a dimension you can see."

"Which dimensions does he exist in?"

"I can't tell you because your species knows so little about them that the answer wouldn't mean anything. You haven't even decided whether or not you want to officially call the dimension that time shines from the 'fourth' dimension—I could tell you he comes from the seventeenth dimension and it wouldn't mean anything but an impressively high number to you."

Dubiously, Ford asked, "Does he come from the seventeenth?"

Bill waved a hand vaguely. "Heck if I know. The most I've ever seen at once is nine, and I was on a lot of psychedelics at the time. My eyeball popped."

"Eugh." 

"Worth it, though. If you ever wanna feel cosmically insignificant in the most breathtakingly beautiful way possible, and you don't mind going blind, let me know. I think I can remember most of what I was on."

"Pass," Ford said. "If the Axolotl is so enormous, then why was only Gravity Falls affected by its gravity? At a minimum, shouldn't have the rest of the Pacific Northwest been impacted—if not the whole planet?"

"He wasn't near the rest of the Pacific Northwest. In the third dimension, Gravity Falls is obviously connected to Oregon; but in higher dimensions, it's..." He tried unsuccessfully to pantomime something mountainlike. "Imagine if the second dimension were a flat sheet of stretchy fabric. If somebody plucked the fabric up in the middle and made a peak, a creature living on the surface of the fabric would still be able to travel across its slope like it was flat, right?"

Ford tried to visualize Bill's description. "Right."

"And so if a fly flew past the peak of the fabric, it'd cross near whatever town's at that peak without getting near the towns at the bottom of the slope."

"Rrright."

"That's what Gravity Falls looks like from the fourth dimension," Bill said. "In the third dimension you can't see anything, but to fourth dimensional beings it sticks out of the fabric of spacetime like a thousand mile high pillar in the middle of a desert. That's why Time Baby put his capitol here."

Now, Ford wasn't sure that sounded right, but he didn't know enough about the seventeenth-or-whatever dimension to dispute it. "And why you kept trying to punch through to our dimension from here?" he guessed. "I imagine stretching the fabric of spacetime that far might make it easier to tear."

Bill shot him a sour look, but didn't deny it.

"Why did the gravity go down slowly for two days and then come back all at once? Did the Axolotl just leave faster than it came?"

"You know how the Doppler effect works?"

Ford hesitated. "Yes. Obviously."

"Well, in higher dimensions, gravity works like a reverse Doppler effect. It spreads out in front of a moving object—"

"Oh, come on."

"—and compresses behind the object—"

"Now you're just making up scientific-sounding nonsense because you know I can't disprove it."

"I'm not, and as soon as you get me a pen and paper I can prove it." Loftily, Bill said, "There's a simple equation that can explain higher dimensional gravity."

Ford was pretty sure he was being made fun of. He didn't mean to laugh, but he did. Dipper looked at him like he'd lost his mind; but trying to explain what was so funny would probably just make him look more insane.

Bill looked nearly as surprised.

####

"... And the smaller axolotls, what are they—heralds, worshipers? Children?"

Bill scoffed in disgust, "I don't know, I've never asked him. I see them like the flies orbiting a cow's tail. They migrate with him, that's all I know."

"Then the Axolotl really was just 'migrating'?"

"Well. Migrating in the sense that a mayfly watching a human walk back and forth to the office thinks it must be 'migrating.' He has..." Bill gestured vaguely, "duties, that mandate he travel fixed routes through the multiverse. He just happens to have a years-long workday. His commute doesn't usually take him past 46'\."

"'Duties' as in... divine duties?"

"It depends on if you worship him for doing them. I don't."

The cavern was growing light again, and the distant waterfall was audible. Ford quietly sighed in relief. Even as oddly forthcoming as Bill had been, Ford doubted that even two-thirds of the information he'd shared was true. But it was hard to tell. It had always been hard to tell.

Dipper helped Ford deflate the raft and pack it up. As he did, he said, voice low, "Is it just me, or is Bill kinda...?"

Ford cast a sideways glance across the cavern. Bill was crouched in front of the geodite he'd carried all up and down the tunnel, backpack in his lap, pouring a pile of soggy cereal onto the ground for the geodite to eat. Ford was surprised he'd gotten so attached to the creature. "I think he's been in some state of mental shock since the fall in the lake," Ford said. "And it seems he hasn't been able to keep down a full meal since we left yesterday. I suspect he's barely on his feet. The sooner we can get him back to the shack, the better."

"Oh." Dipper frowned toward Bill. (He was now pouring cold medicine on the cereal. Ford would have to ask him about geodite diets.)

"What are you thinking?"

Dipper shook his head. "I just thought... He seems like he's thinking about something. And he's giving so much away... I don't know. I wanted him to talk, but now it makes me wonder if he's scheming something."

From what Ford had seen, at the moment he doubted Bill could so much as scheme a way to ruin a picnic. But now he was second-guessing his perception. Ford knew Bill better than anyone; but that also meant Bill knew how to manipulate Ford better than anyone. What was Dipper seeing that he didn't? "Really? Do you think so?"

Dipper hesitated. "I—thought so? Maybe not." (Well, now they were both second-guessing themselves.) "I just don't know why he'd tell us so much if he isn't up to something. It feels like a distraction."

"Ah." Ford nodded. "I think the distraction is for himself."

"Mm." (Ford wasn't sure if Dipper had heard him.) "I just feel like there's—something. I can feel it in the back of my head." He stared at Bill a moment longer; then shook his head and turned away. "Maybe it's not him, maybe it's the Axolotl. He said something I can't remember. Something about degrees."

"Degrees?"

But Dipper didn't reply. He'd returned to his work, lost in his own head, mumbling under his breath the way he did whenever he was trying to work something out. Something else for Ford to ask about later.

When they got in Tate's loaned motorboat to head back out, Dipper got a look at the rainbow trout slippers Bill had put back on, and let out a choked laugh of surprise; and then that was the last sound any of them made as they crossed the lake. Ford steered, Dipper remained lost in his own thoughts, and Bill stared at his friendship bracelet, thumb running around the glass evil eyes.

####

(Finally a few mysteries solved! I hope y'all enjoyed, and I look forward to hearing what you think. Next week is another emotionally wrenching chapter!!)

[pwinkprincess]

angel face ୨ৎ

you met toji at a bar. you remember that setting very well, sometimes too well. when you’re bored, you’ll sit back and think about that very night. you had just turned 20 not too long ago, and your friends had finally got the fake ids they ordered months ago. with excited giggles, they handed the ids out. you’ll never forget how your heart thumped as you examined the little card that displayed lie after lie. you had never done something so illegal, something so sinister.

that night, you waited until your parents were sleeping. no, not just laying in bed and resting, but absolutely sleeping. their breathing turned heavy and their chests rose up and down slowly. their backs touched each other as if they had enough of each other, even while unconscious. with the knowledge that they were asleep, you made sure to close the luxurious door as quietly as possible. the door closed shut with a soft thud. you stood there for a second, holding your breath. you weren’t sure as to what you were waiting for, but you waited.

you counted to 60 in your head four times before solidifying that they were actually asleep. your eyes crinkle as a smile adorned your lips. with newfound enthusiasm, your feet that were comforted in white lace socks pitter patter against the prime grade wood flooring. you skip into your room and close and lock the door behind you.

you grab your phone that sits on top of your nightstand.11:20 it reads. you have exactly an hour and ten minutes to get ready. you’re quick to rush into your white marbled bathroom that had soft pink enhancements sprouted throughout the room.

the walls are adorned with large, glossy white marble tiles, reflecting light and creating an illusion of spaciousness. lowered chandeliers create soft, ambient lighting, casting a gentle modern glow over the room. the room's main feature is a gleaming white marble bathtub with simple, elegant lines and a large basin that invites you to have a relaxing dip. a peaceful waterfall faucet that cascades above it softly filling the tub with warm water whenever you feel the need to soak your stresses away.

you choose to use your stand-up shower, for this occasion. the shower is fully glass, exposing everything and more. two sides or large glass panels trap you on your sides to stop the water from escaping freely. as you turn the hot water on, both the overhead shower-head and the six miniature shower-heads come to life. you take off your pink silky robe, hanging it on the nook that’s nailed onto the wall beside your shower. you rub your body clean with soaps and exfoliators. the water plays a soft tune throughout the bathroom, the relaxing sound from the faucet merges with the sweet scents. it’s a precise routine that you do daily. scrubbing yourself until you’re absolutely sure your body is sparkling, and then stepping out of your shower with a pink fluffy towel around your body. a large white bathroom rug catches all of the spare droplets as you walk to your sink.

when you’re done with your skincare routine which includes not only your face but oiling your body down, you’re leaving your bathroom and walking into your walk-in closet. the automatic light sensors turn on, almost if it was awaiting your arrival. you choose a short light pink dress, and a pair of expensive shoes that match the shading. you gush over the cute bows that are etched onto the heel of the shoe.

time moves quickly. one minute you’re brushing your hair and inserting a clip on bow, and the next you’re quietly sneaking out through the back door. you walk to your friend’s white range rover that’s parked three houses down.

the rest of the night is moved in little blurs. you feel like you’re sitting inside of a cinema, watching a newly released movie. the bar is full of men. and not the guys you’re used to seeing around at these little college frat parties. no, these are men with tattoos, men with beards, mens with war battles littered on their body, men who are old enough to be your dad. as you look around, you suddenly feel childish in your outfit. the women in the bar wear crop tops and little shorts that have their ass cheeks hanging out. there’s a sense of maturity that courses through the bar, something the frat parties could never carry.

these are criminals, office men, police officers, businessmen. and suddenly there’s a throbbing in your lower region that you’ve never felt before. you’re looking around curiously as if the bar is some sort of museum that hold rare artifacts.

you look over at a table full of guys, their faces are littered with tired eyes and white beards. you accidentally make eye contact with one of the men and he winks before smirking and muttering something to his friends. they all snap their heads to you and your friends. some of them whistle while the others carry the same smirk. you should feel disgusted, guys that were possibly in the same classes with your dad, are making advances towards you. but instead the throbbing increases and a feeling of need courses through your body.

your friends make it to the bar and take your seats. a female bartender who looks to be in her mid 30s walks up to you four. she has overgrown blonde roots and various random tattoos littered all over her skin. her skin is obviously fake tanned, the exposed parts of her body are three shades darker than her head. her makeup is cakey and there’s dark eyeshadow around her eyes creating a lazily done smokey eye look. there’s a few facial piercings on her face as well. a dermal beside her eye, two dimple piercings, an eyebrow piercing, and when she opens her mouth to greet you all you can see the ball of a tongue piercing.

“what can i get for you ladies?” her voice is somewhat strained and gravelly. as she leans in, you can smell the lingering smell of cigarettes on her tongue.

“can i have eight shots of lemon drop, please.” your friend flashes the bartender a mischievous smile.

those shots were what got the night going. you were already very tipsy after your two shots and also a half glass of tequila. your friends had scattered around the bar, having conversations amongst themselves. you watch them, there’s envy burning in your stomach at how social they’re able to be so easily. you take it as competition. you sway your head to the side and your eyes land on a guy who’s sitting on the far end of the counter.

with the confidence you mustered, you walk up to him and sit in the wooden chair beside him. the chair creaks as you adjust yourself. sucking in a heavy breath, you smile at him.

“hi.” you greet him.

“’m not a perv. fuck off.” his response has you blinking rapidly in shock.

“uhm .. what? i’m-i’m of age!” you exclaim. you don’t know why you feel so offended at his words. most girls would’ve instantly stood up and walked away from his hostility, but if anything it strung you in even more.

“yeah, okay. and lemme guess, there’s pigs out there flyin’.” he chuckles but it’s forced, if anything.

“you, sir, are reaaaal hostile.” you drag the word out. the alcohol in your system is fumbling with your ability to talk normally.

“go away, little girl.” he dismisses you once again. he’s gripping his glass, with the muscles straining from his tight black shirt you wonder if he’s going to end up breaking it.

you have no idea as to why you’re so stuck on staying beside him and continuing to try. “i’ll have you know,” you emphasize, making sure the word rings through his head. “i can do everything you can do. vote, pay taxes, drive, all of that.”

“not drink, though.” he argues.

your eyebrows scrunch and suddenly you’re digging through your purse searching for that fake id. once your fingers grasp it, you’re pulling it out and slamming it on the polished wood.

“actually, i can.” you challenge. you’re sliding the card in front of him, all of your confidence powered into that one finger.

the guy goes quiet for a second, he’s reading your id. you cross your arms in victory. yeah, he doesn’t have much to say now.

or so you thought. “this shit’s faker than me claimin’ t’be a good father.” he says, his voice tinged with disgust. he slides the card back in front of you.

“okay. whatever. ‘m of age, though. okay? i’m 20 and if i’m not mistaken that’s grown.” you reply.

he finally turns, his entire body turns to look at you. lean and toned. he’s extremely built, with muscles everywhere. not to mention his waist, that’s so so slim. he’s wearing black jeans but you don’t even have to see his legs to know they match his arms. your eyes dart away his lower body to focus on his face. his face is rugged and masculine. he has sharp, angular features, including a strong jawline and high cheekbones. his green eyes are sharp and piercing as he stares down at you. you notice there’s an attractive scar that runs through his thin lips.

“‘nd is there a reason as t’why you keep botherin’ me, ms.twenty year old?” he asks sarcastically.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“g-gonna cum again!” you gasp. your head lays in the crook of his neck. he has one strong hand holding your head so even if you wanted to move it, you couldn’t. 

you had only had sex with one guy, ever. and he was more so on the skinnier side. you wouldn't shame him at all, he had managed to pull a few orgasms out of you. but this一this was different. he was stretching you out in ways that had your mind completely fucked. your pussy is stretched and wrapped tightly around his cock as if it was made for him and him only. 

your knees laid on both sides of his hips. you had started off riding him but he had quickly taken control when he realized how awkward you are when you’re on top. the way you stiffly jerked your hips would have resulted in absolutely no orgasms if he had let you continue. his feet were planted flat on the mattress  while his other arm was wrapped around your lower back so that he could have leverage as he plowed his cock into your dripping pussy. 

you could faintly hear the sound of police sirens through the thin motel walls. you had let the mystery man sway you to this cheap motel that looked as if it was infested with a little bit of everything. you remember the look on the receptionist’s face, a big man dressed in all black with a girl that’s inches shorter than him right beside him. they looked suspicious until you grabbed at the guy’s hand to lead him back outside once the two of you got a key.

“fuck are you so quiet for?” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts. before you could respond his big palm is striking down on your ass, sending multiple slaps. you whimper and jerk in his hold but he doesn’t let you move. “ungrateful thing. should i stop?”

“no!” you sob out. “please don’t stop.”

he rubs his hand over the spot he attacked before gripping your hip and fucking up into you even harder. the sound of his balls slapping against your skin and your pussy wetting his dick even more echoed through the room. the motel bed squeaks with every movement, like an old door protesting against being opened.

your senses whirl as he abruptly hurls you onto the side of the bed. your form plunges into the worn mattress, a musical of creaking springs accompanying your fall as you land on your stomach. everything moves fast as he’s suddenly behind you and pressing cock back inside of your awaiting pussy.

“arch your back.” he grumbles. he doesn’t give you time to move on your own before he’s grabbing your hips and adjusting them into the air. his sharp eyes take in your bruised pussy that’s clenching around nothing.

he lets his leaking cockhead rub against your pussy for a few moments. he shudders when his thick pre cum mixes with your arousal, creating a beautiful canvas. you’re whining and cooing out to him, he takes not of you growing impatient and taking it upon yourself to move your hips in desperate attempts that his dick would enter you.

“desperate girl.” he tuts before lining his dick up and slamming his dick back inside of you.

you let a deafening scream as your pussy streams out liquid. he immediately pulls out and rubs his length through the mess you’re creating.

"gooood girl. mhm cum all on m'dick. jus' like that." he coos at you. "gonna gimme some more? hm?" he asks while bracing his cock for your tight walls.

you whimper out something unintagible as you fix your arch once again. just the thought of him scolding you for not listening put a sense of uneasiness in your body. you wanted to continue being his good girl.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

nestled in a sea of soft, spiraling sheets and flat pillows, your soft breathing created a peaceful, rhythmic lullaby in the room. your chest's soft rise and fall resembled the waves' gentle rise and fall on a calm beach. your shape was nestled into the motel bed, which provided a false sense of haven from the outer world. toji gives your body a once over. he had really done a number on you. your body is littered with bites and bruises from him gripping you too hard. and somehow through all his negligence and however rough he was with you, you continued to moan and beg for more.

he told himself he was done with one night stands. god damnit. and then here you go walking into the bar with those needy ass doe eyes. he could smell the youthfulness on you. a twenty year old prissy girl with no true understanding of how ugly the world actually is.

toji exhaled while being lost in his own world as he stood outside the dimly illuminated motel room, wisps of smoke swirling around him. the light from his cigarette flickered with every breath, highlighting his face in the shadows.

he'd be lying if he said it didn't feel good. having a fine thing begging for more of his cock, the way you gripped the sheets whenever the overstimulation got too much to deal with, your choked sobs as he brought you to a place you've probably never reached before. a smirk tugged on his lips. you made him feel young again, that's for sure.

he could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, it's possibly his boss who has found a shady job for toji to do. usually, he would've accepted in seconds but the thought of you halted him from doing so. this motel was located in a rather dangerous location and toji would feel like shit if he was listening to the news one day and found out some criminal got to you. he decides he'll walk you to a safer area before the two of you part ways.

his heart thumps hard in chest when he realizes this is the first and last time you two would ever do something like this. he enjoyed your smart replies and the fake confidence you put up at the bar. even more so, he enjoyed the size difference between you two. he dwarfs you in every way. he was practically throwing you around like some ragdoll and you took it. you took it all and that shit is fascinating to toji.

he tilts his head back, a cloud of smoke escapes through his mouth and into the air. that was一fun. he decides.

[cuubism]

Made in an Instant (3/5)

continuation of Dream's eldritch pregnancy

Apparently by sheer force of will, Dream still refuses to ‘look’ pregnant in any kind of meaningful way. But looks are not everything, and the fact that Dream is not quite himself—more so the further along they get—is evident in how… chaotic the Dreaming has been.

Gravity’s all wonky. Hob will walk along a palace corridor towards Dream’s quarters—a corridor he thought he knew plenty well—only to find the sky out the windows is suddenly down, and he’s walking on the ceiling. Usually, the second he notices he plummets to the floor. Or rather, to the ceiling. Or whatever.

Weather’s weird, too. Not really in a bad way, not like when Dream is morose and it rains all the time. But there’s been snow going sideways—“the baby likes winter,” Dream said at one point when Hob asked—and the waterfalls that tumble down the river running by the castle have been running up, and the temperature is fluctuating seemingly by the minute. Hob’s given up on trying to dress to the weather—even dream-logic can’t keep up with the changes. He just suffers through it. It’s probably bothering Dream more than it is him, anyway.

He copes with the chaos because he might as well get used to it now—it’s not like a magical baby is going to be any less chaotic.

On this particular day, when Hob arrives in the Dreaming to see Dream, he nearly backs right back out again. Not that that’s really how it works. But it’s high noon, the sun glaringly bright overhead, and the Dreaming is blaring with noise.

With music, specifically. The whole place is playing “Bring Me to Life”, of all things, very loudly, though it seems to be some kind of infant adaptation made of bells and chimes. Covering his ears, Hob tries to find a speaker system in the palace. Nothing. It seems to be ambient noise emanating from the sky and the earth and the very fucking soul of the place.

So instead he goes to track down Dream.

On his way, he passes Lucienne, who’s valiantly trying to complete her work in the library, brow pinched, and Matthew, who alights briefly, unsteadily on his shoulder to say, “I know they’re having mommy and me music time and it’s all sweet and cute but do you think you can get him to turn down the emo xylophone? I can’t fly in this shit,” before winging away again.

Eventually Hob reaches Dream’s quarters. He doesn’t answer when Hob knocks, so Hob just goes in. He finds him sitting on the floor, back to the stone wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped over his ears. Shit. Rough day, then.

Hob sits down across from him on the floor. “Dream.” No response. He taps Dream’s knee. “Dream!”

Dream startles, looking up at him. Then seizes Hob’s hands and clasps them over his own ears, sighing in relief when that apparently mutes some of the sound. Hob’s not sure how that works, but then, everything works weirdly in the Dreaming.

Hob moves closer to him so he can sort of, awkwardly, fold Dream into his arms. “Are you okay, honey?”

Dream shakes his head. “Loud.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

He shakes his head again. “Inside.”

“What does that mean?” Hob asks. “Are the baby’s powers bothering you?”

Dream nods as he pushes his face into Hob’s shoulder, Hob’s hands still covering his ears. “She is… growing into herself, and I am glad for it, but—” he breathes out, hard, tired— “but, I have been. Busy. And. My focus slipped. And she is very excitable. It seems.”

Hob really should do better than to forget the gap between what Dream feels and what he vocalizes. Listening to him talk normally, one would think that managing the baby’s burgeoning powers required no effort at all.

“You’ve been dealing with so much, my darling, haven’t you?” Hob holds him close and rocks him back and forth. “It sounds very hard. You’re doing so well.”

“Hob Gadling, I do not need your platitudes,” Dream growls, but he wraps his arms around Hob nevertheless, fingers gripped in his jumper. Hob keeps his hands pressed over his ears.

“‘Course you don’t,” he says. Then keeps up with the platitudes anyway, as they seem to be pulling Dream’s focus from the overwhelming music. “You don’t need me to tell you how powerful you are. Or how good a job you’re doing taking care of our baby as she grows. Do you?”

Dream just sighs, but doesn’t protest. Even dream kings need to be told they’re doing a good job sometimes, Hob thinks.

The music’s changed. It’s metal now, though still in that bells and xylophone register. “Baby likes Metallica?” Hob asks, and Dream makes a hmph sound into his shirt. “Think we can turn it down a bit? Matthew was crashing into walls.”

“You can turn it down,” says Dream.

Hob is about to ask, well, how? then thinks, fuck it, this is the Dreaming. He imagines a dial in front of him, and turns it.

The volume goes down.

The Dreaming’s so cool sometimes.

“Thank you,” Dream says.

“What were you up to before all this?” Hob asks, finally loosening his grip on Dream’s head now that the music’s lower.

“I was building her a room in the palace. I was… struggling to get it right. Perhaps the details will have to come to me later.”

“You seem pretty tired. Maybe you should just come back to it, hm?”

“Perhaps.” He finally lifts his head from Hob’s chest. “Would you like to see?”

“The room? Definitely.”

They get up, and Dream opens a door in his chambers that definitely wasn’t there before to take them through to another part of the palace.

Inside, it’s, well. It’s chaotic.

Much like in Dream’s throne room, the ceiling is composed of a literal night sky, deep enough to fall into. The walls bear murals of various Dreaming landscapes and the fantastical creatures that live in them, which Hob thinks Dream might have painted by hand. He also thinks they might be more like doorways than murals, at least when Dream allows them to be. There’s a stream running through the center of the room with actual fish in it—definitely a drowning hazard, but presumably Dream has some magic that would prevent that—and in the corner is, despite Dream’s claims that he could make one so much better, a direct replica of the crib Hob had put together in the Waking. Which is so sweet.

It’s all very chaotic, but it’s… nice, too? It’s eclectic and changeable, the way the baby’s power feels, when Hob’s felt it.

“It’s gorgeous, Dream, I think she’ll love it,” he says, and Dream’s tiny smile is surprised, but pleased. “Just make sure she doesn’t drown in the stream, yeah?”

“I will ensure it,” Dream promises. “She will come to no harm in the Dreaming.”

“Good.” He pulls Dream close, kisses his cheek, holds him as they look at their child’s room. Their child. They’re really doing this? Trying again?

Well. There’s really no turning back now.

Dream sighs tiredly, leaning into his side.

“I wish I could help you more with this,” Hob says. “I know I can’t, not with all of it, but still.”

“Such is the way of things,” says Dream.

Hob wraps his arms around him from behind, cradles his belly in his hands. It’s something he did, once upon a time, for Eleanor. Dream doesn’t have much of a belly at all—Hob doubts he ever will at this point—but he seems to appreciate the gesture. It’s all about the meaning of a thing with Dream, rather than the materiality.

Indeed, Dream hums, laying his hands over Hob’s.

“I hope you aren’t suffering too much,” Hob says, hooking his chin over Dream’s shoulder.

“Suffering, no,” says Dream. “Feeling as though I have taken on a second job, so to speak, yes. But.” He looks down, smiling lightly. “It makes me happy, to feel her. When she is not trying to play extremely loud music, that is.”

“Soon she’ll just be playing extremely loud music in my flat. How much insanity am I going to be coping with, by the way? Are we going to be taking home a fully-grown terror?”

“Mmm. Rather more agency than a human baby, I expect.” He sounds like he’s enjoying the prospect of chaos at Hob’s expense. Of course.

“Terrific. Time to concept-proof the house. As a concept, you’ll have to advise.”

Dream chuckles, holding onto Hob’s hands where they’re still wrapped around his belly. Hob kisses the side of his neck.

“Is there anything I can do for you, darling? Anything that will make you feel better?”

“I will come back with you to the Waking, for a time, if you are not busy,” says Dream.

“Never busy when it comes to you,” Hob says.

Dream gives him a look over his shoulder, but doesn’t protest. Hob holds onto his hands as Dream takes them to the Waking.

It’s always really weird waking up that way. There’s no proper line between dreaming and waking, the dream-space of their daughter’s future bedroom just sort of cedes into Hob’s flat, and he finds himself in bed, blinking awake in the dark. Dream is lying curled in his arms, in much the same position as how they were just standing.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Hob says, and Dream huffs.

“Will you indoctrinate our child with your sense of humor?” he asks.

“I’ll sure try.” 

Dream just sighs again in response, long-suffering as always. Hob cuddles him close, and feels the way his whole body relaxes. It’s lovely how, in all the turmoil of pregnancy, he seems to be gradually allowing himself a modicum of greater relaxation and indulgence, at least when they’re together. It’s still only a small percentage of what he truly should allow himself, in Hob’s opinion, but it’s progress.

“I’m glad you came back with me,” he says, petting Dream’s hair. “Take a break for a little while.”

“For a short time, perhaps,” Dream agrees.

“For a longer time?” Hob says.

He really thinks Dream might benefit from taking some time off before the baby is born, too. Taking time off is anathema to Dream, and he’s not particularly fond of being told what to do, either, so Hob hasn’t pushed it much. But there’s no real reason not to. The Dreaming won’t fall apart if he takes some time for himself, just for a few months.

“I don’t know,” Dream says, which is as good as a no. “Perhaps.”

And Hob gets what’s going on in his mind. If Dream felt that resting was something he needed to do for his daughter’s sake, he would likely do it, but as it stands it feels far too self-indulgent for him. He can’t stand to allow himself that.

“What can I do for you now, darling?” he asks. “What do you need?”

Quietly, Dream says, “Will you make love to me?”

“Oh, love.” Hob kisses the back of his neck. “You hardly have to ask.”

He can imagine Dream’s tiny smile, even if he can’t see it.

He traces his hand down Dream’s chest, Dream’s shirt disappearing into mist in the wake of his touch. Dream leans back into him, and Hob keeps touching him, lower now, brushing the hem of his pajama pants, which likewise dissolve back into dreams. He dips his fingers between Dream’s legs, drawing another long sigh from him that merges into a low groan.

“Sensitive?” Hob teases, and Dream huffs. Hob kisses under his jaw, holding him close. “It’s okay. You’re so beautiful right now, you know that? So gorgeous.” He splays his free hand over Dream’s belly, arm wrapped around him, as he keeps working him with the other. Dream shivers and squirms under his touch.

Hob delves his fingers into him. Dream is already wet and aching, so wanting. Hob takes himself out of his pajama pants, thrusts between Dream’s thighs. Dream gasps as Hob nudges at his entrance, then moans as he eases in, so easy, like Dream was just waiting for it.

He gives a few slow thrusts, breathing out hard against the back of Dream’s neck. “Feel so good, love.”

Dream grabs onto his hand, squeezing tight. “Hob.”

Hob rolls his hips, fucking him long and slow, lips pressed to Dream’s skin. He can’t lie and say he isn’t very into Dream like this. There’s nothing particularly physically different about him. But he’s so wanting. And when they’re alone together, he’s so open about wanting, too. Hob is very much into a Dream who wants to be coddled and is willing, at least to some degree, to admit it.

He keeps rocking into him, kissing his neck. Dream pushes back against him, meeting each thrust. He feels so good, lax, and pliant, shivering when Hob rolls into him. Hob holds tight to Dream’s hand, gasping at each peak of their rhythm.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Hob murmurs against his skin. “Is that good for you, love?”

“Yes, yes.” Dream cries out as Hob presses in deep, then shudders, clenching down around him. “Hob.”

“So good, sweetheart. Perfect. I love you.”

He keeps up his steady, measured pace, though Dream’s body feels so good it makes him want to just chase his own release until he catches it. Make love to me, Dream had said. And Hob will. He’ll always want to hold him close, to make him feel good, to feel the way Dream relaxes when he knows he’s loved.

“Please,” Dream begs, “please, Hob—” and oh, Hob loves when he can unravel him enough to get that.

He kisses the affected pulse in Dream’s throat, murmurs, “Shhh, love, I’ll always give you everything you want, don’t you know?”

“Yes,” Dream breathes, “yes, yes—”

Then he comes, clenching tight around Hob with a gasp. His body spasming pushes Hob over the edge, too, and he holds Dream close as he spills in him, Dream letting out a low whine at the feeling.

When he’s recovered his breath, Hob carefully pulls out, and leans over Dream’s shoulder to catch his lips in a thorough kiss. Dream twists and tangles his fingers in Hob’s hair, humming into the kiss.  

“You know,” Hob observes, as they’re still tangled together, a smile tugging at his lips, “this is kind of how we got into this situation? Still didn’t talk about birth control, either.”

Dream grumbles, pulling back far enough to look at him. “I can hardly get pregnant twice at the same time.”

“Didn’t think you could get pregnant once,” Hob says. “I wouldn’t put anything past you, love.”

“I vow that I will not get pregnant again,” Dream concedes, with a long-suffering sigh.

“Retroactively?”

“Hob.”

Hob laughs at his aggrieved tone, squeezing him tight. “Even if you did, it’s alright. We’d make it work. I doubt dealing with two is something you’d want right now, though.”

“I certainly would not,” says Dream. “Your daughter is already very demanding.”

“She’s my daughter when she’s being demanding?”

“Correct,” says Dream haughtily, and Hob kisses him again.

“Then she’s your daughter when she’s making things float in my living room,” he tells him.

“Float,” Dream echoes. “Perhaps. I’m uncertain exactly how her powers will manifest in the Waking. It is clearer to me in the Dreaming, although all dreamers have some ability to mold the dreamspace around them, part-Endless or not.”

“I’m definitely feeling so prepared for it.”

Dream quirks a smile. It seems to be at Hob’s expense. “I am sure you will manage. You’ve endured greater challenges.”

“Have I?”

Dream only continues to smirk at him, somewhat wickedly, so Hob tousles a hand in his hair and gets up. “Stay there, my prince. Let me do all the work.”

“I shall,” Dream says, lying back and sprawling out in the sheets. Hob just shakes his head fondly as he turns to the bathroom.

--

After he’s cleaned them both up—Dream certainly not lifting a finger for any of it—he holds Dream against his chest, Dream with his head tucked under Hob’s chin and one leg slung over Hob’s thigh. Maybe this is one reason he refuses to have an actual pregnant belly. He wouldn’t be able to lie like this comfortably if he did.

He combs his fingers through Dream’s hair, and Dream hums in pleasure, making a low purring sound that rumbles through Hob’s chest. If only it could be like this always, Hob thinks. Or at least, until the baby’s born, and for some time after. Dream doesn’t have to work himself to the bone. He can have this for longer.

“Be sure to stay for a while, yeah?” he says. “Don’t go back right away. Take a nap and then I’ll make you breakfast and— just, you know. Stay.”

Dream doesn’t explicitly agree, but he tucks his nose into the hollow of Hob’s throat. At least it’s quieter here for him, Hob thinks. He needs the peace. Even if it doesn’t last.

“Love you, you know,” Hob says, pressing a kiss into Dream’s hair. “Whatever you decide.” And he holds him long into the morning.

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm a teen aspiring author. I live in a house with three children and my walls and door are not very soundproof. Do you have any tips to get focused not by reducing distractions but getting focused while still being in the middle of chaos?

Focusing Despite the Chaos

Even if you can't eliminate distractions, it's still worth trying to minimize them, so I want to start there... then I'll get to what to do if you can't. Here are some things you might be able to try...

1 - Minimizing Noise - In a perfect world we could all afford a nice pair of noise cancelling headphones, but there are other ways to minimize the noise that reaches your ears. For example, many convenience stores and stores with pharmacy areas sell packets of disposable ear plugs for just a few dollars. These can reduce noise enough to make it less distracting, so definitely worth a try.

2 - Utilize Continuous Sound/"Noise Colors" - Continuous sound, like the deep rumble of a waterfall or the gentle roar of heavy rain, falls on a spectrum called noise colors. White Noise covers all frequencies equally, so it provides a soothing background hum that can help to minimize other sounds. You can find white noise generators via different apps and places like YouTube or web sites like A Soft Murmur. Or, you can put on a loud fan, air purifier, air conditioner, etc. Pink Noise is a little softer, like the fall of gentle rain, so this might be something like a fan on a lower setting. Brown noise is a step lower than that, like the ambient noise you get from having the window open on a quiet but breezy day. White, pink, or brown noise can be a great way to reduce the impact of chaos coming from the rest of the house.

3 - Put on a YouTube Ambience Room - YouTube is absolutely bursting with "ambience rooms" and channels dedicated to study music, sleep music, relaxation music, etc. These can be a fantastic way to promote focus, not only because they give you something steady to listen to, you can often find things that gel thematically with whatever you're writing, which can help you block out other distractions.

4 - Try a ZenWare Writing Program - OmmWriter, ZenWriter, Focus Writer, and others provide features that help you focus on your writing, such as simple interfaces, special typing sounds, white noise and sound generators, and word counters. These are not typically free but are usually reasonably priced.

5 - Shift Your Writing Time - Even a chaotic house has its quiet times. It could be early in the morning before everyone else is awake, late at night after everyone else is in bed, during mealtime, or when everyone is away. Pay attention to when the chaos is at its lowest each day and try to utilize those times for writing if you can.

When you can't minimize the chaos...

Any combination of the above tactics can still be great ways to help you focus a little more, even if it doesn't really reduce the noise or chaos. Just having things like a special screen or special audio to focus on can help you mentally block out distractions. To some degree, it's something that takes some trial and error--to see which tactics work for you--and practice. I know writers who can write on plans, trains, buses, car rides, in the middle of busy places... it's just something they did out of necessity and got good at with time. You will, too. ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[thescarletnargacuga]

TADC ADVENTURE AU ONESHOT

Adventure AU credit: @waffle-gal

A/N: Nothing I have written is confirmed Canon! This was just for funsies!

WARNING: ptsd, some agst/comfort, suggestive at the end

"It's got to be around here somewhere." Caine squinted at the browned paper map in his hands. He twisted it sideways, thinking maybe he would understand the landmarks better at a different angle. It didn't help.

"You've been saying that for the last three hours." Pomni cleared the thick forest brush with a solid swipe of her machete. "Are you sure we're not lost? Again?"

"No, no I'm certain of our heading this time. We just need to uh...continue north. Yes. Due north. The Mystic Grove is suppose to have unusual flora so we'll know it when we see it." Caine held the map upside down, then upright again. "Hey, Bubble." He whispered to his floating companion trailing along beside him. He eyed Pomni, hoping she wouldn't overhear him while she cleared the path. "The N is suppose to face UP, right?"

"Mmmm hmm mm m hmmm" Bubble mumbled. They were carrying Caine's walking stick in their mouth.

"Oop, sorry." Caine took the walking stick back.

"The N looks right both ways up, boss." Bubble said.

"Oh dear..." He glanced at Pomni, fighting a stubborn tree branch. He folded the map and put it in his pocket. It wasn't of any use in his hands. They may as well keep going forward, whatever direction they were really heading in, and find a place to camp soon. The day cycle was starting to wane. "She's going to kill me." Caine sighed, defeated.

Pomni confidently marched onward. When they finally found thinner landscape, she put her machete away and wiped her brow. "Well, I don't recognize any of these trees, so that's something." She took in her surroundings. The vast Wandering Woodlands was lush and heavy with underbrush. It was very easy to get turned around, even with a good sense of direction. A cacophony of woodland creatures and birds made their ambient presence known. Through the gaps in the forest canopy, she could see the towering cliffs of Paradise Outlook. "Hey, isn't there a waterfall from the Outlook that goes down into the Grove? Maybe there's a river we can cross somewhere?" She finally turned to look at Caine. "What's wrong?"

He hung his head shamefully, his hands in his pockets. "I-" A sudden unease coursed through his body. Like static disturbing the air around him, worming its way into his head. His eyes went wide with panic. "Run, Pomni!" He grabbed her hand and charged ahead blindly.

"What is it!? What's wrong!?" Low hanging branches slapped her face as she tried to keep up.

No time to answer. He could feel the disturbance gaining on them. He frantically searched for a place to hide. A large tree ahead was growing out of a boulder, splitting it open. It looked just large enough to cram themselves into. He pulled Pomni into the tight crevice and shoved Bubble to the side, whose shape warped to fit.

"Caine! What-!" She was silence by his hand covering her mouth.

Caine held her close and tried to make both of them fit in the impossibly small space. He didn't say a word. The disturbance was too close.

The trees outside their little hiding spot distorted and glitched. Textures changed rapidly at random. Then they saw it. A massive pixelated mass of corrupted data glided across the ground right in front of them, not making a sound. At least, not to Pomni. Caine could hear it. Feel it. The static vibrating his very being.

Pomni gasped upon seeing the virus, causing it to stop in its path. Her heart raced with panic. She didn't want to know what would happen if it got a hold of Caine a second time. She looked apologetically at Caine, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring wide eyed into nothing, pure fear in his eyes.

After an agonizingly tense moment, the virus lost interest in its surroundings and moved on. Slowly, the distortions ceased. Pomni carefully removed Caine's hand from her face. "Caine..? Are you okay?"

He was unresponsive, clutching to her like she were his only lifeline in the raging storm of static that had overwhelmed his mind.

Pomni spoke gently in a whisper. "It's gone, Caine. We're safe." She put her hand on the side of his lower jaw. "That thing will never harm you again, I promise."

He finally looked at her and took a shakey breath. "I h-hate that thing. Every time it comes near...I can feel myself being torn from my powers...over and over. It hurts, Pomni." Tears glistened his eyes.

"Caine..." She said his name sympathetically and hugged him. She could feel him trembling, but he calmed with every deep breath. Pomni held him for as long as he needed. A comfortable silence fell between them as the forest came alive with natural sound again after the virus was long gone. Pomni smiled. It was a nice moment, having him in her arms like this.

Caine could finally think clearly again. He had Pomni. That was wonderful. He was holding her. Even more wonderful. They were pressed together in a very private and intimate space. WONDER-wait. He went from feeling great to embarrassed in less than a second. "We should get moving! We're losing daylight!" He tried to get out but they were jammed in tight.

Pomni winced as her side scraped against the boulder. "Ow! Caine! Not so fast! We need to- ow! Get out slow-OW! STOP WIGGLING SO MUCH!"

Caine froze and pressed himself against his side of the crevice as much as possible, but Pomni's entire body was still firmly against him. He felt every move she made, no matter how subtle. He went back and forth in his own head between cursing himself and enjoying the contact. He slammed his mouth shut and waited for the sweet torture to end.

Pomni sighed with relief when she was free of the claustrophobic space. She took a look around. The trees had strange purple moss growing on them facing north. The farther ahead she looked, the green forest turned purple with unique plants and giant fungi. "Hey! I think we found it!" She looked back in time to see Caine fall out of the crevice.

"Really? I mean- Of course! See? I knew we were going the right way." He coughed awkwardly and brushed himself off. "Bubble! Come on, we're moving."

Bubble squeezed out of the hole, regaining their perfect spherical shape. "Right behind you, boss."

The Mystic Grove was everything it was taled to be and more. The tree canopy was so thick, it draped the forest floor in heavy shadow. Fungi colored the base of the trees. Some of the mushrooms were so large, they themselves were the size of trees. The underside of the caps radiated a gentle bioluminescent glow. Glowing spores drifted through the air like lazy fireflies. Runic symbols were carved into various rocks and trees.

"Oh my god..." Pomni said in hushed awe. "This place is amazing."

"I agree!" Caine said excitedly. "This looks like the perfect place to make camp! It's so serene!"

Pomni traced a rune etched into a tree root with her finger. "I don't know, Caine. It looks like-"

"Someone lives here?" A high pitched accented voice came from her right.

Pomni jumped away from the voice and reached for her machete.

"I wouldn't do that if I were ye." A small gold skinned humanoid with pointed ears in simple leather armor stepped forward. "Ye're surrounded. Ye'll drop before you even have the chance to unsheathe yur weapon, lass." Multiple creatures of similar size and color appeared from their hiding spots, aiming arrows and spears at the intruders.

Pomni immediately put her hands up. Caine did so too, but tried to put as much of himself between Pomni and the weapons. Bubble just frog blinked.

"We mean no harm." Pomni spoke first. "We're looking for a place to rest and resupply. We're adventurers. We're just passing through."

"What she said." Caine nodded.

"Adventurers? Why didn't ye say so!" The leader clapped his hands twice and the others lowered their weapons. "Why didn't ye use the gate? That's where everyone else comes into the Grove."

"There's a GATE?" Pomni glared at Caine who shrunk away from her gaze.

"Aye, ye're coming in through the cliff side path. Only our hunters use it."

"Sorry about that. We got a bit LOST." Pomni seethed, Caine flinched.

"No worries, lass. You and yur boyfriend are welcome-"

"Woah! he's not-"

"I'm not her-"

The whole congregation of fae laughed. The leader gave them a look. "Ye're not?" His eyes went from Pomni to Caine and back, then shrugged. "I suppose I don't blame ye. He seems like a bit of a fixer upper anyway."

"Hey!" Caine stomped his foot and flushed with embarrassment.

Pomni suppressed a grin. "You have no idea."

"So, as I was sayin, you and yur companion are welcome to stay in the village, as long as ye pay the toll."

Pomni paled a little. They didn't have a lot of gold on them. "What's the toll?"

"A performance at the Grove Theatre, of course. We value not coin, but stories. Tell and enact an amazing story and ye'll earn a night's stay. If ye wish to stay longer, the more stories ye must tell."

Pomni and Caine looked at each other. They'd been through a lot together. They had plenty of stories to tell. Pomni nodded to the group leader. "Well, You're in luck! We just so happen to be professional performers."

"Are ye, lass? Well, then I look forward to seeing you perform! Maybe the Royal will join with word of professionals." He whispered into his closed fist, and when he opened it, sparkly pink mist flew off ahead.

The group of fae led them down a narrow winding path through the thickest part of the Grove. Pomni and Caine, being much larger, had to squeeze in between close trees and stones. Pomni was incredibly sick of small spaces at this point.

They came to a clearing in the center of the Grove. A stream wound itself around the roots of an enormous, majestic tree. It towered over every other tree they'd ever seen in the expansion. The tree had cottages and bridges all over its branches, with windows dotting the trunk. Colorful fairy lights lit the path to a small bridge over the stream and into a gap in the base of the tree that was the village entrance.

The inside of the tree was just as breathtaking. Warm light from gold fungus lit the interior. Staircases spiraled along the inside of the trunk, leading to businesses and homes. On the ground floor, taking up most of the space, was a grand amphitheater.

Residents of the tree watched their tall visitors curiously. Many started coming down the stairs to gather around in front of the theater. This included one particular fae in androgynous royal attire. They clapped excitedly. "Welcome travelers, to Eldermoor Village of Mystic Grove! It's been so long since we've had visitors, this is most exciting!" They had literal sparkles in their eyes. "I am Royal Lylien, supreme leader of the GoldMoors."

Pomni bowed to show respect, and Caine mimicked her. "Thank you for greeting us in person, your majesty." Pomni said, a bit nervous.

"Yeah! This is a cool tree you have here!" Caine blurted out.

Lylien giggled. "Why, thank you. The Eldermoor has protected my people for generations. It's roots are older than time and it's bark is stronger than any magic." The crowd nodded reverently. "Now, before I welcome you further, there is business at hand."

"Yes, the ones that brought us here said their was a toll. You want us to tell a story?" Pomni said.

"You'll do more than just TELL a story. You will perform it!" With a wave of the Royal's hand, the theater came to life. Residents filed into the rows of seats until it was standing room only.

"Oh! You- you mean right now?" Pomni gulped.

"Of course, professionals such as yourself should have no trouble. Trust the stage." The Royal said with a smile. "The toll must be paid before further business can be discussed, as is our custom. Head backstage. You're on shortly." They walked away towards an ornate chair on a private balcony.

"Oh no..." Pomni's stomach flipped with a sudden rush of nerves. Not even time to practice? You had to have a full story ready to go off the cuff?

Caine was beaming. "Come on, Pomni! We have to get ready to perform! The audience is waiting!" He pulled her by the arm to the stage were a young Goldmoor showed them were to get ready. "Alright." Caine clasped his hands together. "What do we want to tell them? Maybe the one about the haunted mines in the Badlands Abyss! Or maybe escaping the collapsing temple on Paradise Outlook! OH! Or the time you fought the raging troll in the dark part of the Woodlands!" He could hardly contain his excitement.

"All of those sound good, but this is the story that's supposed to grant us access to the village. They won't let us stay here if it's not impressive enough." Pomni shrugged. She really wasn't sure what metric of storytelling these these people held, but she wanted to leave an impression. "What about...the beginning?"

"Could you elaborate?"

"The beginning of all of this. What sent us on our quest to begin with. That's an epic tale unto itself."

Caine fiddled with his fingers. "You're right. The tragedy of a fallen leader. It's downright Shakespearean."

"You don't seem thrilled."

"I..." He had to swallow his pride. "To relive the consequences of my own hubris... I need something from you, Pomni."

"Name it."

He held out his hand to her. "Be the heroine of my story."

Pomni smiled warmly and took his hand. "Why do you think I'm here? To look pretty?" She joked.

"You always look pretty, no matter the circumstance, but since you're here..." He teased.

She blushed lightly. "You drive a hard bargain..."

He took her other hand. "Only because I know you can do it, Pomni. You're smart, resourceful, and brave, on top of being beautiful. You are the perfect woman for the job."

Her blush darkened. He was staring so fervently into her eyes. "This... is still about the performance, right?"

He choked on his words. Right. The performance. He forgot. "Uh-"

"One minute call! You're on in one minute!" A Goldmoor called from another part of the backstage area.

Caine and Pomni startled from the interruption, letting go of each other's hands. Caine grabbed his walking stick from the zoned out bubble behind him. "Well, it looks like we're on. What do you say? Are you ready to wing the absolute pants off of this performance?"

Pomni smiled. "With you? Absolutely."

The house lights dimmed and a hush fell over the audience. A spotlight came on over center stage in front of the closed curtain. Pomni stepped out and the crowd applauded.

"Today we tell a tale so grand. A once great Ringmaster of an ever amazing circus fallen from grace by his own hand. Now walking among us as a god become man. But as he sees life from perspective anew, perhaps there is more to this digital existence than he thought he knew." Pomni bowed and the curtains opened behind her.

The stage came alive on its own, building itself to her words. A background that resembled the circus came to be. Neither one of them knew this would happen, but they had no choice but to roll with it. They could be in awe later.

Caine entered stage left. "I am Caine, Ringmaster of the Amazing Circus! With a snap of my fingers reality itself bends to my will!" He snapped his fingers, and for a moment, it was like he had his powers back. A prop on stage transfigured into a different object. The audience ooo'ed. Caine could work with this. He confidently stepped up as if to fly, but fell on his face. The audience laughed.

Pomni covered her mouth, not just from shock, but to cover up her smile. "Perhaps the Ringmaster forgot to speak all of his amazing power into existence! Like the fact that he could fly!"

Caine quickly got up. "That's right!" Because Pomni spoke it into existence for him, he could now fly. For the first time in what felt like forever, he lifted off the ground effortlessly. It was so good to feel weightless again. He did a few aerial tricks for the audience and earned more applause.

Pomni let him have his moment. People were cheering for him and he was practically radiant with happiness. She sighed with a smile as she gazed at him and almost missed her cue when Caine was done showing off. "But! It was not to last!" She announced. "For an evil was brewing!" The stage darkened. The background grew sinister. "A shapeless monster with it's very existence having devastating effects on the world around it, made itself known!" With her words, the virus appeared. Or rather, what the stage formed from Pomni's words. The audience screamed in horror. "The evil one threatened the circus and all who lived there! But Caine dismissed the threats!"

Caine cleared his voice. "None could challenge me! I am the Master of this realm! I will purge this horrid crime against nature with a snap of my fingers!" He snapped.

"...But nothing happened." Pomni continued. "The beast was beyond his influence, for it wasn't part of the realm he so covetously controlled. The beast attacked."

The virus stand-in lunged at Caine. He flew out of the way and tried snapping again. "I command you to stop! All heed the word of Caine!" The beast roared in response. The audience was on the edge of their seats.

Pomni braced herself as she watched what she knew was coming next. " The terrible beast tore power from his soul, cleaving the spirit and breaking the mind. Thusly, Caine fell to earth."

The beast engulfed Caine. He screamed in agony as the viral code pierced him like a thousand needles. He fell to the stage with an unceremonious thud. The beast loomed like an angry stormcloud over him. Caine's power enriching it to impossible strength. The audience gasped and screamed.

Pomni rushed on stage and helped Caine stand, holding his arm over her shoulders. "With his power, the beast was truly unstoppable. The only choice was to flee." She helped him sit on a log that appeared as the stage changed scenes. The beast vanished. "Caine and his companions travel the land, searching far and wide for the means to defeat the great beast. From the Badlands to the Outlook, there is no rock they won't look under for answers."

Caine stood and rolled his shoulders, shaking off the fall. "And in those travels..." He takes Pomni's hands and interlaces their fingers. "Caine finds something worth more than power and control. He finds true companionship. Feelings of connection and desire he didn't know he was capable of until the blindfold of absolute power was removed." The audience aww'ed.

Pomni stuttered a little but went a long with him. "And, for the first time, Caine realized he didn't need his power to be great. He already was." The audience aww'ed even more.

Caine's eyes softened as he gazed at Pomni lovingly. "The heroine of our tale didn't slay the monster or steal back the power...no, she did something far greater. She showed him what real love was." He pulled Pomni in and dipped her romantically. They leaned in close and stage kissed. The audience lost their minds. They were on their feet, cheering and applauding.

Caine pulled Pomni back up and they bowed. They looked up to the Royal's private balcony and bowed to them again. The Royal has tears in there eyes and were on their feet as well. They conjured a flower and threw it at the stage. The crowd followed suit and the stage was covered in flowers.

Caine picked up a pink and purple flower and presented it to Pomni. She held it to her chest as they did a final bow and then exited stage left, hand in hand.

"THAT WAS INCREDIBLE! YOU WERE AMAZING OUT THERE!!" Caine jumped for joy.

"So were you! Did you see what the stage was doing!? And that scream was gutwrenching! It didn't really hurt you, did it?" Pomni checked him for puncture wounds

"Nope! Didn't feel a thing! It was all an act. But I dug down deep for that one. I really needed it. Felt cathartic." He took a deep breath. "So, shall we go talk to the Royal?"

They came out to even more applause. The audience had barely thinned and swarmed them when they came out from backstage with praise and questions about the story. The crowd only parted when the Royal and their guards made their way to Caine and Pomni.

"Very, VERY well done. What an amazing display of talent from our new friends. In fact, that story was so impactful that you are welcome here at my behest for as long as I am supreme ruler."

"Wow! Thank you very much." Caine said.

"Members of my guard with show you to your accommodations. Do enjoy your stay, friends of Eldermoor." The Royal nodded their head and walked away with their personal guards.

The crowd dispersed more but many still wanted to gawk at the newcomers. A town guard signaled for Caine and Pomni to follow him and he led them up the endless stairs towards the canopy.

By the time they reached the top, Pomni and Caine were out of breath and crawling up the last few steps. The guard wasn't winded in the slightest. He knocked and the door to a residence opened on its own. "Here. This place is yours by order of the Royal." He walked away without further explainion.

Caine and Pomni were still huffing and puffing from the climb. "Holy [%$!#] that was a lot of stairs." Pomni gasped. Her legs felt like noodles.

"I have never missed my ability to fly more in my life. Do you think I could negotiate to at least get that back?" Caine half joked as he followed Pomni inside the residence.

The place was cozy. Large enough for them to stand up straight inside and move around without constantly tripping over things. There was one problem. There was only one bedroom.

"Oh, dear. I guess they bought our love speech a little too much." Caine smiled to himself.

Pomni shrugged. "I can take the couch."

"Wha- absolutely not! Call me an old-fashioned A.I, but I won't let you be the one who takes the couch. You deserve to have that bed all to yourself." He crossed his arms.

"Ha! As if you could stop me."

They locked eyes in a playful glare. She took off and dove for the couch. He caught her from behind and lifted her off her feet.

"Ah! No! Lemme go! That couch is mine!" She smiled.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" He couldn't hide the laugh in his words.

He took her back into the bedroom and tossed her on the bed. "And stay there!"

"Make me!" She got up and tried to rush passed him.

He grabbed her again and this time he got on the bed with her and held her down. "Stay!"

"Okay." She smiled mischievously up at him and watched his face slowly realize what he'd done. Just like with the hiding situation earlier that day, it hadn't dawned on him right away the situation he was getting himself into.

"You did this on purpose."

"Nooooo, me? I would never." Her voice was so heavily laced with sarcasm, even he couldn't miss it. "I'm having fun with you, Caine. All this 'will you, won't you' gets tiring. Sometimes, you need a push."

"But, I'm not your- I mean, you've never- we never-"

"Caine....you always seem at war with yourself over me. Let me tell you right now: I care about you. You are special to me. And besides, do you really think I can't hear all the things you say under your breath to yourself?"

He looked away, ashamed of himself. "Right..."

"...you're also still on top of me."

Caine's eyes went wide and he looked down at her. "Sorry!" He jumped off of her and fell to the floor.

Pomni slid off the bed and sat on the floor next to him. "I didn't say you had to stop."

Caine shut his teeth and curled up in a ball.

"Caine...you're being ridiculous. Do you believe me when I tell you I really like you?"

He nodded.

"Then what's the issue?"

"You deserve better." He mumbled.

She scoffed. "Better? What could be better than catching the favor of the ringmaster?"

"...someone human."

She cupped the side of his teeth and made him turn towards her. She tapped gently. "Open up." He cracked his teeth so she could just see his eyes. "Caine, when I started to realize how I felt towards you, I asked myself the same question. How am I falling for an A.I? And you know what I figured out?"

"Hm?" He braced himself for bad news.

"I doesn't matter."

His mouth opened more. "It doesn't?"

"No. In a world where the limit is my own imagination... Why couldn't I fall in love with the most amazing person I've ever met? A.I. or not." She took his hand in both of hers and looked him dead in the eyes. "I love you, Caine."

His pupils dilated and his mouth opened all the way. His eyes searched hers and found only truth. He couldn't help but tear up a little. "You know...I wasn't kidding about what I said during the play. I meant every word. Even if I never get my powers back, I have you. I love you too, Pomni. With every pixel of my being. I love you."

She leaned in and kissed his bottom teeth, it was short and sweet. He gasped and felt where she kissed him.

"What? Afraid I left a mark?" She laughed.

He smirked at her. "No, I'm just surprised you gave me permission so quickly."

"Permission to do what?"

"Return the favor." He scooped her up and threw her on the bed in one surprisingly fast motion. Sometimes she forgot how strong he was, even without his powers. He tackled her on the bed and kissed her. Then he kissed her again. And again. And again.

They didn't get much sleep that night.

[reblog-house]

Painting With Blocks

Written for Hermit-a-day-May, day 21: Bdubs!

Wc: 452

Ao3: Here!

Bdubs paints with blocks.

A landscaping job is nothing more than brushstrokes of oils overlapping each other, finding just the right hue and the right shade to make a painting breathe and pulsate.

Bdubs walks through his forest, each block chosen with care and devotion, specifically picked out with its effect in mind. As he looks up through the branches and leaves, he know. Nothing was out of place.

His feet crunch the grass below, and he can almost feel stains of paint forming on the hem of his pants with every blade of grass stroking against him.

The sound of rushing water makes him smile, and he turns around at his false river and miniature waterfall.

How does it look like the river is snaking along? That new and new water crash below with a plume of water droplets around it? How does that happen, when nothing truly moves?

A job well done. That’s all Bdubs can think, looking over and around him. All that’s missing is ambient noise. It was a good idea, adding a single block of water hidden away near the false river to provide more immersion, and tying those bunnies in strategic spots makes the place more lively, like it’s truly a natural biome, unless you pay close attention to the details.

The cabin was also a fantastic addition. His mailbox may be a bit too far away for ease of access, but he can’t bring himself to regret the position he eventually, after many weeks of pondering, settled on. 

And the once leafless tree that breached the gap between his base and the forest now fit in with the rest of the landscape. It was a hard choice to make, but the end result made it completely worth it.

Bdubs has made a bunch of builds he’s been proud of, and the cyberpunk city he’s doing with Impulse is also up there, as well as the Tree of Whimsey of last world, and the cathedral… Well, he’s been, and is still, very proud of a lot of things he’s built over the years. Saying he’s more proud now than ever before may be a bit of an exaggeration. But he does believe this is the culmination of everything he’s been working towards for many years.

The build isn’t finished yet. Far from it.

Seeing the leaves rustle with the wind, the river and waterfall nearly flow despite their solidity, the small bursts of smoke that leave the chimney of the cabin where he hid his mailbox, and the tiny hops of the bunny rabbits, he can tell it’s all slowly locking into place.

The landscape is nearly breathing. 

He can’t wait to bring it to life.

[celestialspecial]

Expanding Galaxies - (Pt 6)

You stood on the balcony to your room, admiring the clusters of stars that painted the night sky. The sun had already set, painting the horizon in a wide array of purples, oranges, and pinks before fading into the deepest navy.

A far off sound of calling birds and various ambient noises from the waterfalls around you sang out in a brilliant chorus.

A cool breeze blew through the air making you shudder, rubbing your shoulders for a hint of warmth. To be fair your outfit wasn’t quite suited for a nighttime stroll.

The gala to celebrate successful exchanges and encourage new ones was tonight and a fanciful dress had found it’s way to your bed. It was never something you’d have ever picked for yourself and yet wearing it tonight felt right.

Gossamer tulle in the palest blue spread over your shoulders, spilling forward to gather at your waist, held by delicate braided silver ropes that reminded you of tree branches reaching outward.

Little was left to the imagination as your chest was nearly exposed save the tender fabric barely concealing your breasts. A slit cut gracefully up one leg, the rest hidden by the waterfall of fabric pooling to the floor.

But your favorite part had to be the rivulets of crystals dotting along swaths of the material, catching the light this way and that. The night sky made manifest on your gown.

A section of your hair gathered in the teeth of an opalescent comb, just enough to keep stray hairs from your face.

Another gust of wind had you shivering and backing away from the balcony just when a firm single knock sounded on your door.

Closing the entrance to your balcony, hoping to stave off the chill and gather as much warmth into your room before nights end, you slowly made your way to the noise.

The wind was no longer chilling you but the tingling running through your body at the sight before you was prominent nonetheless.

Billy stood before you, cloaked in the deepest navy. Like the sky, you thought. Lush velvet with satin black piping and two opal cuff links, similar to your hair comb.

His dark hair appeared almost an inky black as it was slicked back, matching dark scruff hugged his jaw appearing a little less ‘clean shaven’ than you were used to.

His dark eyes roamed your body hungrily. Pupils lost in a sea of inky blackness and you swore you could feel each body part light up as his gaze traveled over it.

“You look…” his eyes finally returned back to your face to hold your attention, “transcendent.” 

The heat rose in your cheeks and surely you could feel the warmth extend to the front of your very exposed chest. Hoping he didn’t notice, you smiled up at him, fiddling with a piece of the silver rope before accepting his outstretched arm.

“Shall we?”

You’d never been to a gala on earth but you were sure they couldn’t compare to this. 

Packed to the brim with xiadians and humans all clothed in fine fabrics and covering every hue of the rainbow, even a few others that toyed with your eyes in a downright alien way.

Tables of fresh cut fruits glistening under candlelight, baked goods with their sweet aroma wafting into the air. Meats and seafoods, some recognizable and others completely foreign.

Chalices of dark sour smelling liquid and flutes of bright pink bubbling mixtures were passed around. You noticed only the xiadians seemed to be gravitating towards the foul smelling drink.

Music rang out and a large dance floor was filled with groups walking, chatting and dancing. The music you recognized, songs you had heard in earth, orchestral tunes that made your heart ache thinking of home.

As a servant passed by Billy grabbed two glasses of the sparkling pink flutes and handed one to you. It felt like an icy cloud soaring over your tongue, fizzing in the back of your throat.

“So what is-“ you inclined your head towards the goblets a few more xiadians grabbed and tossed back heartily. “That?”

Billy swallowed the rest of his own drink, his dark eyes returning to yours.

“It’s zhelaris ale. Incredibly strong and incredibly terrible.” He winked at you. “But xiads…well let’s just say it takes a lot to get us drunk.”

Your eyes drifted back and forth to the beautiful gowns and the dance floor. You’d never been a skilled dancer but something inside your cells seemed to hum with the tune being played.

This wasn’t missed by Billy, who set his glass onto a passing tray. Gently taking your own empty flute and placing it on a nearby table.

“Would you like to dance?” 

Heat rose in your face, first excitement soared through your veins then a telltale bashfulness at the chance of potentially looking like a fool.

“I would, but…”

His one eyebrow rose, gaze encouraging you to continue. 

“But, I’m afraid. I haven’t dance, at least not like this…in a very long time.” 

“Well the good news is it’s a lead dance. So all you need to do is follow me and my steps.” The worry must not have completely left your eyes because his thumb was there at the side of your mouth, brushing your skin softly.

“If you should not enjoy it or wish to continue we don’t have to.” 

He held his hand out to you, letting your own fingers drift against his, his warm skin tingling against your own.

Slowly guided out to the dance floor, the fabric of your dress skating along the marbled surface behind. A firm hand resting against your waist. The soft touch of his thumb resting against your bare skin where the dress cut off. 

The music struck up a melodic tone, and then you were moving. It resembled enough of a waltz for you to catch on. Thankfully Billy was enough of a good dance partner that following his lead came naturally.

Whirling and twirling past other couples, the swell of the music capturing you both in a vivid haze. The candlelight danced across his face, you could’ve sworn you saw blue sparkle in dark eyes as the next cascade of shadow fell over you.

How your feet kept pace you didn’t know but the notes sped up then reached a crescendoed peak before a final dulcet tone rang out to signify the songs end. 

Laughter and clapping actually spread through the onlooking crowd and dancers. You smiled up at Billy, his own expression one of pure enjoyment. 

Playfulness danced in his eyes, and you noticed his hand hadn’t left your waist. A moment later another song began, one much more different.

Slower, thicker, deeper. A rolling melody with the steady undertone of drumming. The beat seemed to coalesce with your own heart.

You felt your partners hand grip yours tighter. More xiadians took to the floor, it was clearly a song that they knew. 

Eyes widened and heat rising to your face as you glanced around.

“Billy, I-I don’t know this song.” How to dance to it, how to move…there was a roiling in your stomach. 

The tempo was all consuming, ancient. It reminded you of Billy. Feeling the weight of his stare on you before he leaned in close to whisper, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Just follow my lead.” Trust me. An unspoken phrase. 

Your chin dipped with a quick nod and then you were off. The rhythm would grow and fade in a sensual flare.

The movements were much more fluid, there was an indescribable feeling that prickled over your skin with each new motion and gesture.

Did the other humans feel it too? You wanted to look at them but your eyes couldn’t be torn from the face before you.

A being carved of rock and energy and shadow and power. Smooth, calculated, a predator stalking its all too willing prey.

And his eyes…his eyes no longer black but an unearthly blue. The thunderous muscle in your chest beat a rapid tattoo as the music began to pick up.

Spinning, the room around you blurring, fingertips digging into the soft velvet on his shoulders. 

Was it the drums or the blood pounding in your ears? Ritualistic- a carnal beat. This dance unlike anything you’d ever seen or felt before. 

Peaking higher and higher, the trill of singing notes whistled in your mind as your head felt like it was filled with the fizzing pink liquid.

His grip on you remained tight, guiding you through each new loop, swirl and dip. Gliding and you could swear your feet hadn’t touched the ground. 

The song reached its climax and in a rush of movement, hands hoisting you skyward as you leapt up in a final display. 

In that weightless moment you could see others also being lifted as part of the dance in your periphery. 

Then held aloft for another second before Billy lowered you steadily and slowly. Your body pressing and grazing against the entire length of his own. 

It sent ripples of pleasure tingling through your body. His forehead rested against yours, strands of his hair tickled your skin as you could breathe deep the scent of him. 

When you looked once more his eyes were again their original deep brown. 

Realizing the both of you were panting Billy lead you from the dance floor and off to a less busy alcove by the drinks. Your chest seemed to buzz with frantic energy. Had it been the deepest parts of your soul those drumbeats had reached or something else?

It was dim in the hidden corner you two had retired to, yet your eyes didn’t dare drift open fully. Letting your hand skim along the side of his suit jacket, then shifting it underneath.

You feel Billy tense under your fingertips, hard muscle, a breath stopped short in his throat. It felt good, having just a moment of power over him.

Your other hand reached up to join underneath his coat. Splaying against the silk of his shirt. It rippled and cascaded in colors reminiscent of an oil slick. 

Pulling him deeper into your hiding place. Music played on, close but also so far away. You needed his mouth against your own. To taste him after that dance, had it affected him as it had you?

Feeling your tug Billy leaned in closer, legs coming in close as you pressed yourself further away from the crowd beyond.

His mouth against yours made your head feel dizzy. Light and heavy all at once. 

Maybe it was the dancing, maybe it was the drinking maybe it was everything but you couldn’t suppress the giggle building in your chest as his stubble brushed against your own jaw.

“What’s so funny?” The delicious scrape of his trimmed beard pressed to your flushed skin.

The way his brown eyes glimmered in the lowered light of the evening. Soft and wicked.

“Do you ever not feel weird about this?” He always seemed so confident, like he was destined to be here and you were a laughable mistake. 

“I mean, to me you’re a spaceman.” The laughter rippled through your body at the awkward statement. 

“A man of the stars?” His own mouth was pulled into a grin as he placed another kiss along your neck, tongue darting out to tickle the shell of your ear.

“Starman.” Your fists gripped into his jacket, knuckles going white. If you held onto him tight enough perhaps you wouldn’t topple over the side of the planet and its weak sense of gravity. 

“I suppose that is what I am.” Your lips met again, his hot mouth working against yours until you didn’t need to open your eyes to see stars.

When he pulled away and you could breathe once more a memory crossed your mind.

“My dad used to love a movie called Starman. It was very old, even to him, but I remember watching it. Thinking how when it was made it was considered outlandish and sci-if.” 

Billy watched you recall this moment, eyes scanning your face as if he could read each thought from the minuscule muscle changes .

“It was about aliens?” 

“Yes. An alien, well- he comes to earth and has to figure out how to get home.” The heat in your cheeks wasn’t just from the kiss now.

How he watched you, intently listening as if hanging on every word. You’d never had this much undivided attention before in your life. Maybe that’s why you felt so uncertain to continue.

“And does he…get home?” His hand had moved to press against your wrist now. Pulse fluttering under his thumb. The digit soothingly caressing against your skin.

“Yes.” Your lips parted, tongue licking the bottom one before continuing. “But not before he falls in love.”

You didn’t know it was possible, but his dark eyes grew brighter. A flash of blue then that familiar blackish brown, lit up from something within.

“With a woman from earth.” 

All you could do was nod your head. The marble column pressed into your back, you could feel a film of sweat along your spine. 

If you had blinked you would’ve missed the faint twitch of his lips into a subtle smirk. Quick, but not teasing. No. More telling if anything.

“It seems the writers were ahead of their time with that one.” His hand unpinned your wrist, grazing along the fabric of your skirt, skimming tauntingly against your bare thigh. 

You made a noise from the back of your throat and his hand ceased all movement. Any sign of light in his eyes was replaced with a darkness that gobbled up all the remaining brightness.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words died in your throat. The heaviness of his hand, warm and present against your thigh. Fingers just brushing the inside enough to make you want to squirm. 

“And this Star man, he goes home. And never sees her again?” You swallowed thickly. In truth, yes that is exactly what happens. Why did it make your chest feel tight? 

Billy was on top of you now, your chests bumping against one another with each breath. Agonizing how you could smell him, his taste still on your lips. How were you to form a coherent thought when all you wanted was for him to tear this dress off of you?

“He does. But he-“ 

“He?” 

“Gives her a gift.” His lips parted in a gentle “ah”. Waiting. He knew. You KNEW he knew. But he was waiting for you to say it. “A baby.”

“Is that so.” 

With that you surged forward, fingers clasping into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp pulling him into you. Lips devouring each other like it truly was your last night here. 

He groaned as your nails grazed down his neck, tugging at his collar. He stepped forward pinning you firmly against the column and you could feel his excitement pressed to your thigh.

His fingers drew up and parted your skirt, until they found their mark. You moaned, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Hand fisting into his dress shirt as his fingers delved between your legs.

“Billy” 

“Do you want me to do that?”

Your reply was a garbled nonsense of words and noise.

“Do you want me to give you a baby?”

Your mind wanted to battle, to say no- not yet. To remind him it wouldn’t be yours. Not to keep. That as soon as that happened he’d be gone.

That it was all moving so fast and yet not fast enough. The blood was pounding in your ears. You were helpless and hopeless in the worst way. 

And yet you knew resistance was futile.

“Yes.”

[shortfictionweeklychallenge]

SFWC Blast from the Past!

As with the regular challenge, post your story and submit the link to SFWC; we’ll reblog it to our followers. The main prompt, posted Friday, still includes two featured previous prompts. 

Happy writing!

This week’s Blast from the Past prompt:

Sound--Sound is the second most often used descriptor after sight.  At the most basic level there is spoken dialogue or ambient sounds.  Beyond that, a character may have a distinctive quality to their voice: nasal, raspy, or with a peculiar accent.  Maybe they yell.  Maybe they whisper.  Ambient sounds might be soothing--a waterfall, soft music, leaves fluttering in a gentle breeze.  They might be loud--machinery, nearby traffic, raucous neighbors.  Used well, sounds tell the reader about the setting and the characters without the writer spelling it out.  This week, try to use sound in a creative way.  

Have a suggestion for a prompt? Submit it here!

More prompts, you say? Visit the Prompt Archive!

SFWC FAQ

[team-enigma-official]

[A VIDEO IS UPLOADED AT 7:22 PM ON 6/1/24 - INTERCEPTED AND REPOSTED AT 8:30PM

*The video begins in the wilds of Glitch City. A wild tangle of half generated buildings, paths that lead nowhere and streams that trail off into sudden waterfalls only to end in a tiny pool. He seems to have gotten this far on foot... but now all that means is that it may be impossible for him to actually turn back. *PT town is now far off in the background, and the ambient corruption is starting to fray and warp the edges of the film. Simon can be seen filming in a Team Enigma uniform, stylized E clearly displayed upon his breast. He looks exhausted, dark bags underneath his eyes. There is a sinister look to him all the same, his brow harsh, his gaze steely. There is no hint of the gentle and cautious Simon we all know. Simon- I have escape confinement into the Glitch City wilds. I know that if I stay much longer Zzazz and her lackies will surely attempt to break my will further. Timing my escape was a necessity, but for now I do not believe they know where I am. And furthermore.. I have found a Pokemon that seems to be of sufficient aptitude to get me out of here. *A soft ticking sound can be heard in the background, getting louder as the footage rolls. For just a moment a pokemon can be seen that looks like a mix between a Dog and a Peacock. It appears to have a tail like a pendulum that is slowly moving back and fourth... Tick.. tick.. tick... *At this point the video cuts. An animated gif of a Maschief being blown about by a leafblower. In comic sans the text "'Sorry can't let you see that - scp'" appears.

Simon- What is going on... why is... what kind of pokemon is this? Why can't I- *The ticking intensifies. It's clear, whatever Pokemon this Simon has encountered, it clearly has a deep grip on him. Simon's cries can barely be heard over the ticking.

Simon- Wait! Help! Someone please- [END OF VIDEO FEED]

[girlwiththepapatattoo]

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 15

Warnings: non-graphic oral sex, Astarion being himself

Summary: The Underdark isn't great, and Sable finds an enterprising use for the Fog Cloud spell.

Notes: Oh focus, where hast thou gone?

Sorry for the wait for this chapter, this week's been hell and I might be getting sick. Anyway, enjoy! <3

Read on Ao3 here!

Previous Chapter | First Chapter

They leave by the open window of the dilapidated chapel, as they didn’t find a way to turn off the damaging beams that killed the sudden rampaging minotaur so quickly. 

And they’re immediately attacked by a spectator. 

Who started unpetrifying the statues of drow placed around the cliffs. 

After somehow making it through that battle, bruised and battered they start making their way down to lower ground. 

And are attacked by a bulette.

They deal enough damage to the thing that they kill it before it can escape down it’s many burrow holes in the ground, but by this time no one is eager to move on to face more threats. 

After taking care of those exploding mushrooms, they make camp. And the entire time Astarion, slightly bloodied but not too badly off, is muttering under his breath. 

“Oh, yes, the Underdark is surely the safer route,” he hisses as he hammers in a tent peg a little harder than strictly necessary. “Surely, if this is the optimal choice between the two, the mountain pass would have been absolutely lethal! Good thing we listened to that very intelligent druid’s advice!” 

Halsin, setting up his tent literally across from the vampire, gives him a flat look. “If you have a complaint with my counsel, Astarion, speak it to my face.” 

“I’m sorry, it seems the area is sadly lacking in ladders tall enough to accommodate that,” comes the tart reply. 

On Halsin’s left, Karlach cackles. “You just called yourself short!” 

“I most certainly did not!” Astarion protests. “I’m calling him a giant. World of difference.” 

“Will you stop bickering?” Gale says huffily as he walks by, his own tent already up (magically, of course). “None of us are happy with how we’ve been welcomed down here, but that’s no excuse to jump down anyone’s throat.” 

“Trust me, if I were down the druid’s throat, he’d most certainly know it,” the vampire says, and no one’s quite sure if he means it as innuendo or a threat. Probably both.

Several noises of discomfort follow that proclamation, and Halsin just sighs and ducks into his tent. Astarion smirks victoriously, then grabs his wash bucket and soaps, heading around the bend for the waterfall they’d discovered earlier. 

He pauses as he realizes that it’s already occupied. Sable stands there, letting the water rush over her, her hands pressed to the stone for support. The look on her face…his still heart pangs. She looks a million miles away, a look he’s all too familiar with. He undresses, leaving his armor and underclothes near her own, and steps up to her. “Sable.” 

She jumps, flushing as she realizes that he’s both here and naked. “O-Oh, Astarion. How long have you been here?” 

“Only a few moments,” he says softly. “Are you all right? You looked…far away just now.” 

She smiles weakly. “I’m fine, I promise.” But her smile is just a hint too small, the corners of her eyes just a little too tight. 

He sighs, reaching out and cupping his hand gently around her jaw. “Darling, remember when I told you that you’re very easy to read? I meant it.” He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to her forehead. “Don’t lie to me.” 

Her eyes close. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I’m…” She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, shakily. “It’s…this place. It’s too quiet, it’s too…oppressive. Yes, I’m a druid and everything, but I was raised in the city. It took long enough to get used to the forests. I know there’s nature down here, but it’s mostly mushrooms and other plants. There’s no wind through the trees, no animal calls, no…ambient sounds of the city streets.” She shivers. “I hate it.” 

Astarion softens, and he steps forward, wrapping his arms around his lover. She melts into him, her own arms winding gently around his middle. “I’m not exactly fond of the place myself,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek to her wet hair. “Now listen here, my kitten.” He feels her smile faintly against his chest at the nickname. “You’re not alone in this. None of us like it down here. So if you’re finding it overwhelming, just ask me for a distraction. Hm?” He pauses. “Well, so long as we’re not in a fight for our lives anyway.” 

She looks up at him, her hazel eyes locking into his crimson. “I need a distraction.” 

The air changes, becoming charged, intense. “Any particular type?” he asks, voice low, a sultry purr like velvet over her skin. 

She swallows, her mouth going dry. “Surprise me.” 

He smirks, and gently pushes her. Her back slaps softly against the wall behind the waterfall. “You are aware that anyone could just walk over and see us?” he murmurs, even as he lowers himself to his knees before her. 

Her eyes darken, even as her face flushes in both embarrassment and arousal. She waves her hand, green motes of light following her fingers, and a thick fog obscures the perimeter of the waterfall, hiding them from view. “Not anymore.” 

“My clever little kitten,” he praises. “Now, be nice and quiet for me. We don’t want them to come investigating any loud noises, do we?” 

He doesn’t give her a chance to answer, instead slinging one leg over his shoulder and leaning forward to bury his face into her core. 

She was quiet. Barely. And only because she seals her hand over her mouth. 

//////////////////////////////////

They emerge from the fog cloud, clean and refreshed, the young druid holding both their buckets as Astarion cradles her gently in his arms. He looks terribly smug as he carries her back to the campfire. Shadowheart hides a smile into her mug of tea as the vampire settles down with Sable in his lap. “Don’t you two look cozy.” 

“There has never been a more cozy couple,” Astarion says happily. “Oh, Shadowheart, be a dear and do your thing for her, please.” 

The cleric’s brow furrows as she searches Sable’s increasingly flushed neck. “I…can, of course, but I don’t see where you fed.” 

Sable hides her face behind her hands as Astarion smirks. “I can bite places other than the neck, you know.” 

The sigh that Shadowheart lets out is pained. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked.” But the gentle restoration spell washes over Sable anyway. 

//////////////////////////////////

Gale had to literally be carried out of the arcane tower. Slung over Halsin’s shoulder, he protested the entire walk away and back to their campsite from the previous night. 

“We already spent half a day in there,” the huge druid says, patting the wizard on the back. “Once this is all over, we can go back.” 

“But who knows what’ll get in there and mess about when we’re gone!” Gale protests, nearly on the verge of whining. 

“Stop your sniveling,” Lae’zel growls. “We must not waste any more time than we already have here.” 

“Here’s an idea,” Karlach says, crossing her massive arms. “How about we stop for lunch? I know I’m starving, and we’ll all think better on full stomachs.” 

There’s a general agreement about that, though Lae’zel grumbles a bit about the stop. Sable sits down and pulls out some dried meat and an apple, almost mechanically going through the motions of eating. Astarion sits beside her, leaning back on a boulder, crimson eyes trained on the rocky ceiling hundreds of feet overhead. “...you know, you may have a point,” he mutters, brow furrowing faintly. 

“About what?” she asks softly. 

“This place. I might prefer the city to a wilderness in the middle of nowhere, but…it was still nice to see the sky.” He sighs. “Endless rock gets so dull after a little while. What’s left to see? ‘Oh look, a new stalactite!’ Ugh.” 

She can’t help a smile, mirth dancing in her eyes as she chews. Glad to see a happy expression on her face, he continues. 

“And I mean really, all the damned mushrooms. It’s just so…phallic. Like this place is so boring to look at that it had to overcompensate with thousands of dicks.” 

She bursts out laughing, her face going red as she quickly smothers the sound, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention from anything nearby. 

And he does his best to ignore the uncomfortably perfect warmth in his long-cold heart. 

She seems better after that, more present, more herself. Even as they pick their way carefully across the craggy landscape. 

Even as they meet the myconid leader, who asks them to kill some slavers who are threatening his people. 

But especially as they walk away from the village, and she motions him down to whisper-laugh into his ear, “It’s an entire down of dickheads!” 

He’s never been more proud of her.

[athetos]

top 5 videogame osts?

Picking just 5 is impossible so I’m going to go off and list as many as I want

Under the cut for obvious long reasons

Chrono trigger (SNES) - listened to this obsessively when I had the DS port (which is still imo the definitive way to play, just ignore the repetitive bonus postgame quests), yasunori mitsuda is a legend (he’s also one of the composers for dungeon meshi!). I cut my teeth learning to read sheet music in bass clef once I switched to bass guitar playing the soundtrack, I have essentially the entire thing transcribed on my ultimate-guitar (username XxThreeCheersxX, keep forgetting to hype my account up here but I’m a top 100 ranked tabber 😅) personal faves are those without the will to live (beautiful tritone bass slide makes me moan), the trial, and frog’s theme.

Castlevania: Harmony of Despair (PS/XBOX) - I have never played but know it’s a mediocre multiplayer game, however the soundtrack is fantastic, great rock and metal remixes of some of the most iconic tunes throughout the franchise. The series over all has some killer songs and composers who love funny time signatures so this is easily a “best of.” Castlevania Judgment, arguably an even worse game, also has a good soundtrack.

Undertale/Deltarune (many) - required to be on this list. Toby fox is phenomenal, so many great and memorable tracks. There is a reason megalovania is everywhere. Not a single bad song to be found, but personally my faves are fight against a killer queen, waterfall, world revolving, and undertale. Undertale especially is so impactful because they use an actual guitar on it and it just hits and makes it much more poignant. Fox is maybe the king of leitmotifs.

Dead Cells (many) - after putting so many hours into the game I only appreciate the soundtrack more and more, plus the option to have 8-bit themes is a treat. I love love the Bank theme and Fractured Shrines especially. Very tense and epic sounding. But the Castlevania dlc is phenomenal in so many ways and the music is no exception, always blows me away they’re doing what Konami wishes they could do in every aspect.

Donkey Kong Country 1 + 2 (SNES) - don’t get me wrong Eveline Fischer’s DKC3 snes soundtrack is pretty damn good but imo it doesn’t hit the peaks of David Wise’s ost. It kills me that the silly monkey platformer has some of the most beautiful and atmospheric music of all time. I’ve watched so many music videos on how he made the music and why it sounds so good… from the ambient and emotional aquatic ambience and bramble blast, to the epic final boss themes, that dark reprise of dk island swing in minecart madness, the jittery and unnerving tree top town, the foreboding welcome to krokodile island, the sweet and dreamy dkc2 ice theme… it has it all. Okay what the hell, I’ll mention wise’s remix of water world/aquatic ambience/(a special surprise) in the gba port of dkc3 (he had to redo the soundtrack for that port from scratch). And yes I’ll even throw in fischer’s best songs from snes dkc3 - her version of treetop tumble is way better and more somber than wise’s, water world is like you’re actually at the bottom of a lake and very moody, and nuts and bolts is a dirty rock song with a groovy bass. Good stuff!!!!

Grant Kirkhope’s stuff (many) - another favorite composer of mine, most famous for doing many rare n64 games like banjo 1 + 2, dk64, goldeneye, plus Mario rabbids 1 + 2 on switch and indie game yooka laylee. I’ve also watched many videos and studied many of his songs, he loves to use tritones and out of place dissonant notes not to make something creepy (well, sometimes creepy) but to make things whimsical and man it really works. Dk64 is my personal fav and seeing him reprise some of the themes for Mario rabbids dk dlc was truly special. I really want to do a write-up about the dk64 soundtrack on my site one day! There’s a lot of Easter eggs I’ve spotted that I haven’t seen many people mention! Highlights are creepy castle (it has the dk arcade start motif hidden!), frantic factory, and gloomy galleon from dk64, and from banjo 1 and 2, I love jinjo village, gruntilda’s lair, and banjo’s house blues.

Final fantasy x - most final fantasy games have good to great soundtracks but x is special to me. It’s my favorite ff game and the music really makes it all the more poignant. Zanarkand’s opening note is enough to make me tear up. The battle theme never grows stale unlike some other ff battle themes, besaid is calming and has the perfect vibes, the trials theme should be repetitive but instead feels very disconcerting and even claustrophobic, and auron’s theme is cool as hell. X-2 also has a good soundtrack, but I don’t think it’s quite as good as here.

Celeste (many) - Lena Raine’s soundtrack is phenomenal and the use of motifs is impeccable. Not a bad song in the entire game. Resurrections is my favorite as it’s a long piece that goes a lot of places and makes you drift along for the ride. The way Madeline and badeline’s motifs diverge is brilliant, matching what’s happening onscreen. I love how hesitant the piano in awake sounds, it makes it so heartfelt. Anxiety is dense and lives up to the title, Little Goth is less hesitant but darker… she just writes such beautiful melodies.

Metroid Prime (gcn) - they originally wanted Autechre, an ambient electronic duo, to do the soundtrack but things fell through for whatever reason so Kenji Yamamoto (who did Super Metroid) stepped up to take his place and god what a good soundtrack. Metroid music is very cool and I’ve made posts about it before, like how Metroid II has one of the most experimental soundtracks and kind of challenges the limits of the system and what can be considered game music, super Metroid has some of the most alien sounding songs thanks to weird time signatures and instrumentation. But Prime is crazy because they had the tech now to deliver Yamamoto’s vision. Magmoor Caverns is everyone’s favorite, remixing norfair, those drums just make me go wild every time. All the area themes are great and alien sounding, it’s a very isolating soundtrack, plus the boss themes and the space pirates and chozo ghosts themes are kind of terrifying in a good way.

Sea of Stars/Messenger (many) - 2 of my fav indie games with some of the most addictive songs. Sea of stars is a prequel so seeing variants of the messenger’s tracks was a true delight. Yasunori mitsuda also assisted with the soundtrack making some unforgettable pieces. I want to learn the majority of it on bass by ear!

Hollow knight (many) - somber piano and grand orchestrated pieces make this game go hard. The mantis lord battle is probably my favorite, it’s so majestic and fearsome and makes them a scary boss. I also appreciate the more ambient tracks around greenpath and city of tears. But the boss themes turn things up when needed to and makes a world feel even more alive, which is impressive.

Silent hill 2 (ps2) - Akira Yamaoka has such a great style to create heavy, melancholic or terrifying songs for the franchise but this game stands out the most to me, Laura’s theme and promise always move me no matter how many times I listen to them, very hurting electric guitars. I need to watch more vids on the games ost.

Legend of Zelda (Nintendo) - for this last one I’m not picking a specific game and getting into details for them all would be hard I’m already losing steam fast. So I’ll list my favs across the franchise. Ocarina of Time’s Gerudo Valley, Hyrule Field, and Lost Woods; Majora’s Mask’s Termina Field, Clock Town, and Stone Tower Temple; link’s Awakening’s Face Shrine; wind Waker’s dragon roost island, outset island and Gohdan’s theme; and tears of the kingdom’s colgera’s theme.

[joyammusic]

small waterfall in a brook Part 1

This is one of many new field recordings from the last few weeks in nature for our music project with different ambient sounds. It shows a small waterfall in a stream that was created after beavers built a dam. The recording was made just before sunrise on a cold February morning. The light mist makes the sound of the water particularly clear. Use your headphones for a good sound experience.

[tbkenvs3000w24]

The Beauty of Nature Through Music

Our natural world has many beautiful features. The beauties of nature are not only seen by the eye but can also be heard when you listen closely. Where is music in nature? When reflecting on this question, my first thought was that music is everywhere in nature. When I step outside, I am surrounded by the music of nature.  

Music is not just created by humans as a form of expression and communication. Animals like whales and birds also use songs as a form of communication. 

Humpback whales communicate using songs with similar components to our music (Gray et al., 2001). These whales produce repeating rhythmic themes that form songs of similar length to musical pieces written by humans (Gray et al., 2001). The notes formed by whales are similar in tone, timber and intervals to those used by humans (Gray et al., 2001). The beautiful yet eerie songs produced by whales are a prime example of where music is found in nature.  

Here is a video my sister took of a humpback whale while she was in Nova Scotia.

Numerous bird species communicate through song. Birds use rhythmic patterns and changes in pitch to create songs to communicate with other birds (Gray et al., 2001). Birds will also produce songs using musical scales like those used by humans (Gray et al., 2001). When I think of music in nature, the beautiful songs created by birds are the first thing that comes to mind.  

Here is a picture I took of a Black-capped Chickadee. I am sure many of you can hear the "chick-a-dee-dee-dee" call.

Ambient sounds like the rustle of leaves in the breeze or the sound of water rushing downstream are another example of music heard in nature (Gray et al., 2001). These ambient sounds heard in nature and the sounds produced by different animals come together to form a symphony or “biophony” as described by Gray et al. (2001). The biophony created in various ecosystems forms distinguishable music unique to a location.  

Here is a picture I took of a waterfall located on Six Mile Lake in Muskoka. Imagine the relaxing music the water makes as it crashes over the rocks.

Where is nature in music?  For centuries humans have been inspired by nature. As a result, people have tried to capture nature through music. From folk music dating back centuries to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons to modern-day music, nature has inspired humans to create music. 

As stated by Mallarach (2012), folk music is found in all cultures and often expresses the importance of the natural world. Folk music is an art that elicits emotions while building people's connection to their natural surroundings (Mallarach, 2012). Finnish folk music has been used to pass down messages on how sacred nature is to humans and how people can live in tune with nature (Mallarach, 2012). 

The Sami indigenous people of Scandinavia create vocal songs called yoiks to describe life, animals and natural places (Gray et al., 2001). The yoiks have no words but are made up of repetitive cycles (Gray et al., 2001), much like the songs birds and whales communicate with. Finnish folk singers and the Sami people communicate through music to share the beauty and significance of nature in their communities.  

Interpreters can use music to share knowledge of natural heritage places. The use of music in nature interpretation helps interpreters paint cultural and historical pictures of natural landscapes and resources (Beck et al., 2019). Also, music can help deliver environmental sustainability messages in memorable ways that provoke the listener's emotions (Beck et al., 2019).

I have a strong emotional connection with the song “Island in the Sun” by Weezer. This song transports me to my cottage on Six Mile Lake. I have spent countless summer days at my family cottage sitting on our dock listening to this song on the radio station my parents love. When I hear this song, I can picture the island my cottage is on. I can see the red roof of our cottage peeking out over the tall white pines that grow over the hard rock of the Canadian Shield. I can feel the breeze blowing off the water as the sun shines down on the water.

The lyrics of this song remind me of the calming effect being at my cottage has on me: 

 “On Island in the sun 

 We’ll be playing and having fun 

And it makes me feel so fine” 

This song reminds me of all the fun I have had over the years swimming with my sisters, going on sunset boat rides, having campfires with my family and many more memories. This song brings back a nostalgic feeling and reminds me of the beautiful lake that made me appreciate nature from a young age.  

This is a picture I took of the bay my cottage looks out at on Six Mile Lake.

Music is not unique to humans. Music can be heard in the melody of birds harmonizing with the branches swaying in the breeze. Music is found in the rhythm of rain falling to the ground as spring peepers sing their chorus in the distance. Music can be heard throughout our world by humans and animals alike. The art of music is a powerful tool used to draw on people’s emotions to highlight the significance and beauty of our natural world.

References  

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2019). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage: For A Better World. Sagamore Publishing. 

Gray, P. M., Krause, B., Atema, J., Payne, R., Krumhansl, C., & Baptista, L. (2001). The Music of Nature and the Nature of Music. Science, 291(5501), 52. https://link-gale-com.subzero.lib.uoguelph.ca/apps/doc/A69270354/AONE?u=guel77241&sid=bookmark-AONE&xid=fb9366a8 

Mallarach, Josep-Maria (2012). Spiritual Values of Protected Areas of Europe:  Workshop Proceedings. Bonn, Germany: Federal Agency for Nature Conservation, 2012. 170 pp. ISBN: 978-3-89624-057-6. 

Weezer. (2009, June 17). Weezer - island in the Sun (official music video). YouTube. https://youtu.be/erG5rgNYSdk?si=3K8eerbPPMD5b5hc