#from behind a one entrance mountain range

[nonspecific-bird]

Apparently city-states start out as a settler at turn 1. Never really gave it any thought, guess i always just assumed they spawned in with it already built.

[naffeclipse]

Desert Light

Cryptid Sightings/Signs of Life Crossover

Commission Info

My dear friend @jackofallrabbits commissioned me for a darling little crossover of Cryptid Sightings and their fic, Signs of Life, with @maudiemoods's permission, of course. If you haven't read Signs of Life, you really should and you can find it right here! I had so much fun writing both the cryptid hunter and the scientist interacting, and both monster boys are delightful here! I hope you enjoy <3

———

At nightfall, the desert is dipped in inky blues under a starry sky spilling over the entire expansion over your head. You forget how big the desert feels without trees or mountains to cut into its horizon as if the very heavens are staring down at you with twinkling eyes. The dry ground becomes darkness littered with muted sagebrush. The road is cracked and sunbleached, rocking your dark green truck and airstream. Along the lonely stretch of road, a convenience store with fluorescent lights cuts through emptiness like an oasis of gasoline, candy bars, and potato chips.

Moon hunches low in the passenger seat. Pale eyes gaze at you through the dimness within the truck's cabin. Patches along his nightcap catch on stray starlight, winking on the stitches you sewed by hand.

“It’s late,” he rasps in a low voice.

“I know, sweetie,” you sigh and rub your eyes while keeping one hand on the wheel. “We’re almost there.”

“You’re tired.” His hand strays across the seat to rest on your leg. His cool digits jolt you gently back to alertness.

“It’s only half an hour more,” you give ruefully. “Let’s stop here. I’ll grab a soda then we’ll be on our way.”

He grumbles, vibrating his animatronic vessel with displeasure. A word against caffeine is surely on his tongue, but the jostling from pulling the truck and airstream onto the cracked pavement underneath the almost neon-white light of the gas pumps cuts him short.

The desert hosts paranormal encounters ranging from the chupacabra to aliens. The latter is why you ventured here. Without F.E.I. providing you exact intel and evidence, it’s up to you to conduct your research and discover possible sightings but what you’ve unearthed so far has been solid.

This one in particular speaks of an alien. A towering but thin, long-limbed being spotted around a motel just as remote and lonely as this convenience store. You throw the truck in park and hop out. A lone car is parked alongside the building and another is parked further away, as if trying to hide away from the lights.

Soundlessly behind you, despite the bells tied around his wrists with ribbons, Moon appears like a metallic shadow. Hopefully, the convenience store attendant isn’t against animatronics in their store. He tilts his head for a moment towards the outermost vehicle, his pale optics narrowing before he follows after you.

If he sensed a heartbeat hiding in the darkness, he would have told you.

You pull open the door with a quiet jingle announcing your entrance. A small sign, old and worn, on the checkout counter promises the attendant will be back in a few. You deflate slightly. You had hoped to ask someone in this area about the sightings.

“There’s someone here,” Moon murmurs close to your ear like a breath from a ghost.

Quiet footsteps echo back beside the fridge section of drinks, concealed by shelves of beef jerky, peanut butter cookies, and chocolate bars. Curious, you strive forward. You might still have a chance to speak to the lone employee who may be restocking the cases of beer or soda, but when you round the corner with a cool presence at your back, you stop still.

A person straightens, clutching a few water bottles to their chest, their eyes immediately landing on you, framed in glasses. You look down to the hoodie they wear: dark fabric with a green alien face; a charming, stereotypical depiction of extraterrestrials. Do they sell those here?

“I like your hoodie.” You smile. “Do you work here?”

The person immediately fixes their glasses and beams. “Thank you. It’s a bit too warm for this climate but it’s cute. No, I don’t work here. Is that an animatronic with you?”

You blink but turn back to allow Moon more of an audience with the curious stranger. He regards them with a coolness but no malice. You give a slow nod.

“This is my friend, Moon.” 

The stranger steps closer, studying him with vim and vigor before adjusting the many water bottles in their arms. Underneath their arm, tucked into their armpit is a notebook. They lift a hand towards Moon.

“What model are you?” they ask, eager. “How long have you gone without maintenance? Your wires are exposed and your endoskeleton could use a polish.”

Moon stares. A slight twitch runs through his limbs. You step back between Moon and the stranger, your pulse jumping slightly at the spew of questions—many that have no good answers. Could they be familiar with where Eclipse found their half-burned, abandoned vessel?

You introduce yourself quickly, keeping Moon behind you and out of reach of the stranger. “What’s your name?”

They slowly lower their hand, disappointed. “Ah.” They’re silent for a moment, and you can see the gears working in their mind before decidedly saying, “You can call me Doc.”

That’s funny. Surely it must be a nickname though you have no qualms with a stranger giving you whatever moniker they please, but Moon’s hand falls to your shoulder. His digits curl slightly over your collarbone, as if in warning. Right.

“Alright. Doc,” you smile.

They smile back. “Is your animatronic—”

“I’m sorry,” you say, very apologetically but firmly, “but I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about happenings in this area.”

Doc grows still, their expression guarded. You catch their eyes flickering towards the door and then landing back on you.

“What are you referring to exactly?” they ask tentatively, almost nervously.

“There have been reports of unusual occurrences in this part of Nevada.” You wish you bought your book of cryptid information with you. If they’ve seen anything, you will need to write it down. Instead, you focus on slowly bringing them into your question. If you went around asking any person if they saw aliens right off the bat, no one would take you seriously. “Have you seen anything strange or simply unexplainable?”

“UFO sightings in Nevada are very common,” they say so bluntly, it causes you to blink. They set the water bottles down on a shelf occupied with chip bags and shift the notebook closer to their chest, holding it like a shield. “Did you know that Nevada has the highest rate of UFO sightings per capita in the U.S.?”

“I did know that,” you say, impressed that they know it as well. You lean closer in your curiosity. Do they believe in cryptids? “Have you researched such things before?”

They fix their glasses and lower their hand back to their book only to lift it again and fidget. 

“Recently I have,” they admit.

A coolness radiates behind you. In the corner of your vision, Moon tilts his head. The bell on the end of his nightcap falls over his shoulder. What doesn’t he like? Surely they can’t be a rulebreaker. Moon would have reacted much less pleasantly to such a person. 

They touch their glasses again, and the frames fall slightly askew on their face. “Have you heard anything about an alien?”

You brighten with the question. At last.

“Yes. That’s why I’m here,” you hold a hand to your chest, “to locate any confirmation or evidence about an alien sighting near a motel a little ways from here. Nothing has been reported as violent, but it’s most likely an incident will occur soon unless properly dealt with.”

Their hands furl and unfurl, anxiously touching their glasses, pushing them up the bridge of their nose, and shifting. Are they alright?

“Most of the time sightings of cryptids, including aliens, are just everyday objects seen from a weird angle,” they ramble slightly. 

You pause, watching them. Are they afraid to tell you what they saw? You’ve encountered poor, terrified people who fear even speaking a word of what they’ve experienced will mark them as unstable and insane. Even worse, it might somehow lure the presence that frightened them in the first place back.

“Yes, that’s true,” you admit, but only half of the time. There have been a plethora of hoaxes, pranks, misunderstandings, and of course, misidentifications of objects that have been spun into debunking the cryptic world, but you carry the scars from a true encounter at the base of your thumb. “But have you witnessed anything you would consider to be unearthly?”

Do they know something they can’t seem to tell you about?

Doc shifts again. Their hand strays to the notebook they carry, and touch the well-worn spine. Is it as important to them as your cryptid book is to you?

“No,” they fidget a few times anxiously, “Is there anything I can do to help you with your animatronic? I am an engineer.” 

Moon twitches behind you. Their eyes immediately fall to the movement and frown.

“Are you experiencing a malfunction?” they ask, and start to reach out again. Moon clenches your shoulder tighter.

“No, no!” You hold up your hands defensively. “That’s very generous to offer, but Moon is fine, thank you.”

They frown. Unconvinced, they continue to pry around your person to stare at the cryptid possessing a vessel. You’ve never had this problem before. So many people are put off by the strange, inexplicable presence of a demonic cryptid—a sixth sense warning of danger, but Doc heeds no such deterrents.

“He is experiencing micro spasms which may be a symptom of a conduction failure in his wires or a deeper issue within his processor.” They face Moon entirely, and he stares back unblinkingly. “When was the last time you went in for routine maintenance?”

“We don’t need maintenance,” he rasps. You cover his hand as it clenches you tighter still. A coolness swells around him and you hope Doc mistakes it for the coolness of the fridges.

Confusion twists their brow. Doc parts their lips to offer a rebuttal to a clear inconsistency with their framework and the fact of the matter, but Moon twists behind you. His grip never leaves your shoulder, his fingers digging into your collarbone as the jingle of the bell at the front of the store rings.

Then the lights flicker. A sharp fade of every light bulb overhead and even the light within the fridges drops the convenience store into darkness. Your heart tumbles in your chest. You didn’t bring your crossbow or your detector. Only a knife sits strapped to your hip, hidden by your patched, green jacket. 

Your eyes flash to Doc. You take them by the arm and their expression shifts to alarm behind their glasses.

“Move,” you whisper sharply. “Stay with me and be quiet.”

“I need to leave,” they say, strangely focused, but they don’t struggle when you guide them down the row of fridges to the last column of shelves in the back of the store. They don’t understand. Something else is here. Something not of this world. You must protect them from it.

Moon follows quietly behind you, his fingers spasming as they curl like claws. His pale eyes dip into crimson, alert and vicious. 

“Not a heart,” he mutters, and you glance at him. “Something else… Something strange.”

He stands between you, and your entire body clenches. A towering being begins to prowl under the flicker lights, slipping in through the door. You used to fear your dear friend placing themselves between you and the threat, but they are far more terrifying than any cryptid you have hunted.

The sharp contrast of the fluorescent light bulbs and the sudden darkness spears a sharp ache into your eyes. Carefully, you place Doc behind you, but they offer another protest again. 

“Be quiet,” you murmur firmly, “It’s going to be okay.”

“Ah, you don’t understand.” Doc’s eyes fall past you, towards the frosty doors of the fridges. “He’s—”

A sharp scratch of nails cutting over glass causes your shoulders to hunch up and a grimace to twist your face. You free the knife from your hip. It is the only defense you have for you and Doc. You should have been prepared for the alien to strike here, so close to the original sighting site, now creeping in close to find more precious victims to devour.

Doc reaches out, past you.

“You have to let me pass,” they say calmly. “He wants me.”

You turn to look over your shoulder, confusion painting you in flickering lights.

“Who does?” you ask.

The glass scratching stops. You stiffen, reading your knife as Moon tenses. Creeping from the row of fridges, a figure straightens. Tall and spindly, but with an unnerving aura of strength to his long limbs, an alien stands before you. Deep red and galaxy-speckled skin coats him, and you catch a strange symbol on one of his hands, like the moon eclipsing the sun. A dark hoodie with an alien ship covers his lanky form poorly—not unlike Doc’s. A sharp crown of jutting adornments sits upon his head. A waving veil of starlight falls behind his skull. 

His three eyes, bright and glinting, like a predator about to bounce, immediately find the person behind you. One eye is dark. His grin splits into a wide, hungry thing with razor-sharp teeth.

“My light,” his voice is low and dangerous, “I have been waiting for you.”

Behind you, Doc looks up at the towering, otherworldly beast, but there is no fear in their eyes.

“Stay back,” you immediately brandish your knife. Moon spreads his arm, ensuring that there is no passing him without going through him.

A dark chuckle falls from the creature.

“You dare think you can keep my light from me?” He spreads his arms, four limbs of sinew and bone, claws flashing with a desire to rip flesh from a body. “I will give you one chance to let my light go.”

Moon stands tall between him, silently gauging him like a proper opponent. Is the alien taller than your sweetie in their true form? You’re afraid he is.

“No,” you breathe, “You’re not taking them.” 

A soft sound arises behind you, distress mingling with breath. Doc must be terrified of the abrupt encounter. How could they have ever known an alien would mark them as his quarry?

A snarl rips through his chest, deep and vicious. His hands grope the surrounding shelves, fitting between cookies and candy bars. His hand swipes a few basic camping supplies, spilling ropes and canisters onto the ground. He catches a stainless steel one in his lower set of hands. In effortless brutality, the alien concaves the metal before his claws pierce the container entirely, crumpling it as if it were a soda can. Your gut clenches. 

“I will paint this tasteless floor in your blood,” the extraterrestrial growls, gnashing his teeth.

In response, a sharpness erupts from the sides of Moon’s chassis. Shadowy appendages, seeping black ooze over bony limbs with hands and claws of crimson, stand at the ready. You suck in a sharp breath.

“You will not touch a hair on our heart’s head,” an abysmal sound leaves the animatronic, layered and demonic.

The alien tilts his head, eyes widening at the challenge. 

“My, my, and what are you? No matter, I will tear you apart.” He laughs again, echoing with chilling amusement. Dread hooks deep into your belly.

“Eclipse, it’s okay.” Doc moves underneath your arm. 

Your knee-jerk reaction is fierce. You catch them by the back of their hoodie, scrunching fabric in your fist to keep them tethered close to you. They stop and look back at you. When they smile, it’s heavy. Guilt touches their edges, anchored by worry. 

“Ah. I know he’s frightening, but he’s not going to hurt anyone.” They tug on their hoodie, trying to loosen your grip. “You can let me go.”

“Yes, let them go,” the alien licks a dark tongue over his teeth, “and I might spare you all.”

“What—no, he’s…” you stumble over your tongue then stop, confused. “Do you know this cryptid?”

“Ah. Alien,” they correct you. “Yes. Eclipse would like me back now, please.”

Moon glances at Doc. Confusion pulses in his crimson gaze. The end of his nightcap falls over his shoulder. 

“They’re not afraid,” he rasps. He stares down at Doc’s chest. He can sense a heartbeat, the rhythm of it, and how fast it gallops in a person’s chest.

Your lips part wordlessly. 

There was a time when you believed cryptids were only monsters. Machines capable of great destruction and horror. You never dreamed a demonic cryptid would be capable of kindness and goodness, and care so much for little ones.

Your fingers slip from the fabric. Moon allows Doc to sweep underneath his arms. Their eyes fall to their shadowy limbs, and their hands shift to their notebook. Your heart clenches, caught in the camaraderie urge to take notes of your sweetie’s true form and fearing what Doc would do with such information. F.E.I. is still out there. There are other cryptid hunters. 

But they stop themselves. Fixing their glasses, they quickly step back into the alien’s reach. You clench the knife tighter, afraid as four pairs of hands descend upon them.

“We need to leave quickly,” Doc says as the alien kneels and hunches lower to look over the human, combing for harm or mistreatment. “We’ve already made a mess and stayed here for too long.”

“This isn’t a mess. Yet,” the alien answers, his voice murmuring like a lover in the night. The threat is not lost on you as Moon growls a warning. The alien flashes a smug smile, all teeth, and arrogance before he concludes his checkup on Doc. “Let’s go, my light.”

Doc nervously looks back at you, almost as if they would look to say more, explain, or even ask you about Moon’s extra, shadowy arms. Instead, they weakly wave, like this is a goodbye they wish didn’t have to happen.

The alien lifts them into his arms as if they weighed as much as a feather.

“Wait,” you step closer. Two arms, one metallic and blue, one shadowy and crimson, stop you. He keeps you back from the otherworldly being. “Are you safe?”

The alien scowls at you. Doc only smiles softly. 

“Yes, friend.” Their eyes linger on Moon. “You’re so impressive. I would love to know more about you.”

A ripple of what you think is jealousy takes over the alien. He turns away with a flash of teeth, and steps quickly, sweeping through the store and out the door with a sharp jingle. In moments, the alien carries the small human out into the night. You stand there, stunned. 

Moon straightens. “Their heart is still steady. They feel safe with him.”

Oh.

Moon slowly faces you, two arms touching your sides and holding you close. You lean into his embrace.

“I hope they are,” you murmur. The lights stop flickering in the gas station and the stars outside shine brighter in the darkness. A car speeds away, down the desert road.

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 : part 2

꧁ eddie x female reader  :: read part 1 here

a multi chapter mini series— based on thoroughfare by ethel cain

listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)

summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. you’ve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling you’ve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope. 

5.6k triggers: 18+ only, smut, piv no condom, oral m&f receiving, loneliness, hard times heartache, finding yourself, humor about rocky mountain oysters 🐂 🦪 etc.

Indigo thunderheads belt a rhythm of applause across the Schell Creek Range. Strikes of lightning shred the sky into a kaleidoscope of colors, sharp acidic white and lavender swim in the night sky. The temperature had dropped enough to create the perfect recipe for a late summer storm, and Eddie’s truck was in the center of it. 

  The windows had been fogged up for a while now, the heat from your skin causing the condensation to build across the windshield. Frustration laid sourly beneath your surface, aching for his touch, high on his movements and the way he kept licking his bottom lip.  

  The tension bubbled and boiled so hot you could barely handle the extra heat emitting from your body. 

Eddie had readjusted himself more times than he probably had in any part of junior high. A single glimpse of your legs uncrossing and recrossing would start the process all over again. 

  You tried to busy yourself with counting the yellow dashes on the road, naming the fifty states in alphabetical order, but nothing- nothing, was stopping that steady roar of want.

  Rain had pelted the windshield in steady drops, but the last ten minutes had increased into a torrential downpour, just enough for the windshield wipers to have a hard time keeping up. There was simply no outrunning this storm. 

  “Shit,” Eddie hums, squinting at the disappearing road, “we’re gonna have to pull over, gettin’ hard to see.”  

  The small talk between you and Eddie had been just that today. Miniscule conversations that were cut short with one word answers, and longing glances so thick you had to physically peel your eyes from the way his throat danced when he took a sip from his water. 

  “There’s a town coming up,” you say, heart thumping your delicate finger moving along the lines of the map.

  Eddie looks at you, his throat going bone dry at the way the shadows played on your skin, and he has to swallow more than once to utter a response, “s-sounds good to me.” 

  Another night on the road. Another shady motel that smelled of stale cigarettes and regretted decisions. The weeks behind you were spent exactly like tonight. A day filled with burning rubber on the asphalt and exploring the smallest of towns on the map you had insisted on buying. 

  Sometimes, you’d both tuck in early for the night, checking into the nearest motel with a vacancy and the promise of a hot shower. Other nights you ate a questionable cheeseburger and fries at some shithole of a bar listening to live music, nursing a beer or two. 

  No matter what the day held, Eddie’s gentlemanly ways never faltered. He always let you shower first. Offering you first dibs on the paper wrapped soaps and the mini bottles of shampoo, and you made sure to leave enough conditioner for him.

  He was traditional in that way, any diner you went to he sat facing the entrance, eyes sweeping for exits. In the motels, he slept in the bed closest to the door, there was no use arguing with him over these small little acts of preservation. Your groans of protests were met with the same kind of answer each time. Take note sweetheart, I might just be the last chivalrous guy around. 

  What Eddie didn’t realize is that he probably was. 

  “… should have realized she was up to no good when she kept feeding me drinks all night and eyeing my ring.”

  You nearly choke on a slice of pizza you’d ordered while waiting for Eddie to get out of the shower. The bathroom door swings open and he emerges from the steamed room, wet hair beading against his bare shoulders. 

  The greased stained corners of a pizza box sat on your bed. Feet crossed beneath your legs, hair wrapped in a towel, you held up a finger and spoke with a mouthful, “Wait, wait wait. When was this?” 

  The same sweatpants he always wore to bed were slung low on his hips, showing off the gray elastic of his boxer briefs. He threw a white tank top from a pack of six over his head, and you watched as it clung to his chest still wet from his shower, hiding the silvery peek of a chain necklace. 

  “My first week leaving home,” he sighed, reaching for a slice, leaning his long frame onto his side laying on the edge of the bed, “just a tad bit naive.” 

  A laugh bubbles from your throat and you try to hide it behind your hand, “so, innocent little Eddie got his ring stolen after thinking he hit the jackpot with Tracie?” 

  “No no, this was Tiffany,” he said, chucking a parmesan packet at you playfully, a laugh erupting from him, “c’mon now, listen to the story.” 

  “Okay, okay!” you surrender, “what happened next?” 

  He sits up animatedly, smile stretched like taffy across his face, “well, we went back to the motel and when I woke up…truck was still there, cash never even touched. The only thing she took was the ring and the boots right off of my feet.” 

  “Nah uh… you’re lying.” 

  Eddie’s smirk grows wide, and he takes another bite of his pizza, “looked pretty dumb walking into that boot store with just socks on.” 

  You both laugh until the tears slide down your cheeks. Like old friends who had known each other for years, giggling at jokes only the two of you found funny. Eddie made you feel comfortable the second you sat in his truck, with him it wasn’t complicated. Something foreign to you, but you found it easy to adjust to his easy going ways. 

  “Alright,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “you heard all of my on the road woes, time you tell me something I don’t know.” 

  You slink further down the bed, head resting on the pillows, ankles crossed by Eddie's outstretched legs. 

  “I don’t like olives, or mushrooms.” 

  Eddie raises his eyebrows, “whoa, pump the brakes… you’re gettin’ a little too deep here.” 

  You hold up a suggestive finger in front of your smirk and he laughs, “c’mon honey, tell me why you were walkin’ on that road the day we met.” 

  Flashbacks of slamming doors and yelling voices ring loud in your ears, and you sigh, “it’s a long story.” 

  “Good thing we don’t have anywhere to be, huh?” 

  Picking at your nails you think back to the childhood— or lack thereof, that you were raised in. The anger, the hurt, the emotional pain still heavy on your chest. From the sound of his life and the way he talks about the love his parents had for one another, you doubt he wouldn’t be terrified of the demons you’d faced. 

  A slow shake from your head and you look up to his eyes in the warm auburn light. Brimmed with care and full of trust, you shudder from the intensity. 

  “No judgment here,” he says softly, laying a hand on his chest, “I promise.”

  Taking a deep breath you stare at the chipped polish on your toes, working your hands into a rub as you begin the wretched story of your life. 

  The small town you’d seen on the map shouldn’t have been given a name at all. A one horse town would have been too much to describe the absolute barren grounds of what laid ahead of you. 

  A green sign proudly stated the name of it and the population count “8 , no services.” A building that should have been scheduled for demolition had a single light above the sign that said “vacant” flickering like morse code. Looking around, this was it, the entire motel looked to be the size of a small home. 

  Eddie eased the pickup in front of what seemed to be the front office after noticing a television glaring through a filthy window. The rain fell harder now, beating down against the truck so loud you could barely hear him as he told you to stay put.

  A large sigh heaves from your lips the second his door clicked shut. You needed to get a grip on yourself. But you can’t, finding yourself smoothing down your shirt, rummaging through your bag to rub deodorant beneath your arms. 

  Pulling down the visor, you can see the heated flush on the apples of your cheeks in the tiny cracked mirror. You’re a mess as your mind slips to the way his jeans squeezed on his ass and seem to tighten against the zipper, the flutter of his lashes when you caught him looking— your thighs shut together to find relief.

  The driver's door opens the same time you snap the visor back into place and there he stands, drenched from head to toe. A look of bewilderment on his face. The eyes that sparkled were suddenly set into a gloom as he slid behind the steering wheel and sat, staring ahead. 

  “Everything, okay?” 

  “Oh yeah, no worries, just uh.. little snag, but I have an idea,” his smile warms you from the inside out and your thighs press together tighter, air breached from your lungs as your stomach plummets. 

Your voice grows small as you finish the lengthy tale of your life, and you wipe your runny nose against the end of the towel. 

  The radio plays Elton John’s Your Song gently in the background and you tuck your feet under your legs. Picking at the pilling fabric of the comforter, letting out a gentle morose sigh. 

  “Sorry to be a Debbie Downer.”

  Seriousness clouds his eyes, and he looks almost sad as he leans forward and hooks a finger under your chin until your eyes meet his, “dance with me?” 

  Warmth radiates from him, the feeling of home lies in the depths of his eyes. Reaching out. 

  “Here? Now?”

  He climbs from the bed leaning a hand down to yours, “yeah,” he shrugs, “I like this song.” 

  Don’t have much money but..boy, if I did

I’d buy a big house where, we both could live.

If I was a sculptor but then again no

  He stands tall above you, looking down the slope of his nose, a smile on his lips at the timid way you approach him, hands held out in an offering of you weren’t even sure of what. 

  “Just letting you know now, that I haven’t danced since the Prom, and even then it was—”

  Eddie grabs your hands and pulls you gently into him, stepping back to leave space. Your hands slither up against his biceps and land on his shoulders, thumbs flicking gently over the firm muscle there. 

  “I’ll lead,” he says, keeping his hands above your hips, touching the bottom of your ribs with his large fingers, “this okay?”

  Screaming internally, you simply nod with your eyes closed. Going solely on his touch as Eddie begins to sway you both from side to side. 

  Where you are clumsy, Eddie is surprisingly limber on his feet. His hands move you this way and that, and he chokes on his laugh when you move your feet forward when they should have gone back and your toes crush into his. 

  But the suns been quite kind while I wrote this song

it’s for people like you that keep it turned on

So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do

  Your skin is ablaze where his palms hold you tight, heart thumping in your chest in a rhythmic staccato of its own accord. His eyes look dreamy in the low light, long lashes sweeping the highs of his cheeks when he blinks. 

  You're so caught up in his beauty that you don’t hear the low murmur of his voice the first time he speaks. 

  “Sorry?”

  Eddie chuckles and you can feel it bubble from his chest, “I said, it’s nice right?” 

  “The dance?” 

  “Well,” he says with a small smirk, “that too, but I was talking about the song.” 

  Heat rises in your cheeks and you bite your lip, but he doesn’t notice because he’s soon leaning forward, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. 

  His voice is like liquid smoke, curling around you and wrapping you into the warmest embrace, one that you’d gladly die in. 

  “You’re not half bad at this,” he says with a grin that you can hear with the squeak from his cheeks.

  Leaning back you look him in the eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in the desert browns, “maybe i’ll take up line dancing.” 

  “That,” he says with a laugh, twirling you away from him in the most un-graceful way your body could move. Ankles knocking into one another, toes burning against the short carpet. “I would pay to see.” 

  You spend the rest of the song dancing and giggling at his stupid jokes and the way he whips his long hair around.

  More than just friendship brews between you. His arms held you against him, not letting you go. Eddie’s voice curls into a whisper against your ear, his barely dry hair tickling your shoulder,  “I’m happy you’re here with me, and I’m sorry you were treated that way.” 

  Your head angles into his chest, and you lay your cheek against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “I’m happy to be here too.”

  The cheese had gone stone cold on the forgotten pizza, song after song you swayed back and forth until Casey Kasem started taking requests on the radio.

  The rain seeps through your thin shirt as you stand at the door with your bag slung over your shoulder, patiently waiting for the key to work. 

  Eddie must have jiggled it into the sweet spot after a few minutes of working the handle, swinging the door open and ushering you inside just as a loud clap of thunder booms across the sky. 

  You jump on instinct and Eddie snuffs out a snort as you run your hand along the wall to find the light switch. 

  The lights sputtered and hummed to life, showcasing cobwebbed corners and illuminating the orb of dead flies. The wallpaper was peeling away from itself in long tawny strips, curled to a crisp on the edges. A sign written in cursive was crudely taped to the tv saying “out off of order”. 

  But out of all of the eyesores in the room, there was still something off. 

  One bed. 

A week and hundreds of miles stretched on from the night you and Eddie had danced together. He noticed you smiling more, the barriers you had up were lowered,  and no matter how much he tried— he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

  The bar you had stopped at to get supper was packed. Peanut shells coated the floor and there was a fight breaking out in the back corner. Eddie’s hand warmed your lower back as he pointed you towards a small table. 

  A waitress dumped handwritten menus with faded ink at your table. He watched your eyebrows raise in question as you read the appetizers. 

  “Fresh Rocky Mountain Oysters fried in a cornmeal blend?” you questioned, “what even is that?”

  Eddie’s lips pressed tight to hide a laugh, “well they’re not real oysters… and the Rocky Mountain part is more or less a nod to where they came from.” 

  Your eyebrows tick up in confusion and then disgust as he explains just exactly how and what those “oysters” are made from. 

  “Yeah… think I’ll just stick with the cheese balls.” 

  He laughs as your mouth turns to a frown. “Good choice. The sign outside claimed they had the best bison burgers in the state, that’s what I’m gonna get.” 

  “Does that come with or without testicles?” 

  He doesn’t miss a beat, “hopefully without those suckers are expensive.” 

  Your laugh sounded loud in his soul, your smile sung to him anytime he saw it, and fuck, he wondered if you knew just how gorgeous you really were. 

  A singular mattress. For you and for Eddie. 

  Before you can say anything Eddie’s already apologizing, “I swear, this is all they had…” he says, letting out a large sigh, wiping the rain from his face with the sleeve of his soaked shirt. 

  He shuts the door and clicks the locks into place before he moves his things to the other side of the room, “you take the bed, I’ll make do with the floor.” 

  Your brows crease and you pout in disbelief, “don’t be ridiculous Eddie, I’m not gonna let you sleep on the fl—” 

  “I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he smiles, a tired look on his face as he hauls his duffle bag into the bathroom, wet fringe sticking to his forehead, “don’t worry bout me…gonna change quick.” 

  Rifling through your bag you dress into your pajamas quickly. Your stomach turned. It wasn’t right, you would not let him sleep on the floor of this dirty room. This entire trip he had been paying for the motel stays, and you’d be damned if he was going to have a sore back because of… this. 

  A single curse is muffled through the thin walls followed by a chuckle, “hey, you can add another thing to the list of shit going wrong tonight.” 

  The carpet was damp beneath your feet as you moved to the bathroom, “what happened?” 

  Eddie throws open the door, sporting a black pair of boxer briefs sprinkled with rain drops, and nothing else besides a splatter of pink blush on his cheeks. You almost choke at the sight of him. 

  Despite the circumstances, a smile remains on his pink lips, “all of my clothes are soaked.” 

  With the burning tension and your body screaming all day in the cab of the pickup, your mind was preoccupied. Not even registering that his bag had been in the bed of the truck, soaking up every drop of rain it could into its blue canvas shell. 

  You’ve seen him bare chested before, but the way the rain clung to his skin, he looked ethereal, and your stomach lurched when he stepped around you, his arm sliding against yours with a potent electricity. 

  “We um…” your tongue felt like velcro stuck to the roof of your mouth, peeling the first layer off of it for sure as you spoke. Grabbing a pair of his jeans from his bag to hang up over the back of a dusty chair, you suggest, “we can hang your stuff up to dry, hopefully by tomorrow they’ll be alright.”

  You work quickly, pulling pants and shirts from the bag and hanging them in various places, hoping that the heat from your cheeks would subside if you didn’t look at him. 

  He holds the last pair of pants in his large hands. Holding them out he suddenly withdraws, holding the bundle of wet fabric high above his head, laughing as you reach on your tiptoes to grab them. 

  The pout on your lips makes his quirked smile spread across his cheeks as you stretch further to reach his arm. Laughter erupts from him. 

  Your thin cotton shirt is smushed into his wet chest, your breath catches in your throat when your nipples harden from the cold touch of his skin skimming over yours. He stops entirely, bringing the pants down and tossing them on the nearest chair, those deep eyes never leaving yours. 

  His hand runs the length of your arm, starting at the knob of your shoulder, trickling with feather light touches down to your fingertips, entwining them with his. Pulling you gently closer into him.

  A sigh fell from his lips so beautiful it could make Medusa blush, and you nearly passed out from holding in your own breath. 

  His other hand rubs against your cheek, calloused and strong, and your insides melt to jelly at his touch. He  presses his forehead to yours, and you move your hands around his waist, pressing your fingertips into the meat of his lower back. 

  For years you have been afraid, never trusting anyone, especially men. But with him it was different, he was gentle, kind, and caring. It was as easy as breathing, and came on as quickly as falling asleep. Here in his arms you felt content for the first time in a long while. 

  Eddie’s heart beat is thumping loud but sure. “You’re beautiful… do you know that?” 

  The heat ignites in your core as his words seep into your skin. Shaking, you clear your throat to steady yourself, “you really think so?” 

  He nods his head, “It’s been a long damn time since I left home,” he nearly whispers, “nothing left… but now that I met you, I finally know just where I’m headin’.” 

  A tear leaks from your eyes and he kisses it away. His lips felt like satin on your skin, and you sucked in a breath at the feel of them. His eyes looked into yours and he whispers, “don’t cry, sweetheart.”

  You needed him, craved to have all of bim. And you surprised yourself as you raised on your toes, pulling him towards you. His lips pressed lightly into yours and you swore your breath was taken away even though you were expecting it. You open your mouth and welcome his tongue, eyes rolling in your head as he massages it with yours. 

  Eddie’s hands wrap against your shirt, feeling your bare skin pressing you further into him as you whimper into him. 

  The carpet squashed beneath your feet as you walk backwards towards the bed, a frenzy of locked lips and wandering hands. Fingers tugging into his curls, Eddie moans against your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips. He breaks from your lips, his wet and spit licked. 

  The brown eyes you’ve been accustomed to staring in never leave yours as he sits on the bed, leaning back on his elbows. The shine of his chain gleaming in the dull light. 

  Thunder raps loud outside, wind thrashing and howling against the window. Your fingers roll against the hem of your shirt and you don’t think twice before hauling it over your head, moving towards Eddie and the impressive length bulging from his boxer briefs. Your knees touch lightly.

  His lips suck between his teeth as he drinks you in. Lazily eyeing over every curve, every imperfection, the tight peaks of your nipples. 

  You climb over, your knees sinking into the bed on either side of his narrow hips, resting on his lap. With one hand cupping his cheek, you lower your lips to his skin. 

  He groans when you kiss the hollow of his throat, kissing up his neck until you nip at his ear lobe, sucking that small silver hoop into your mouth.

  “So pretty like this,” he murmurs into your ear, “like an angel.” His hands roam over your skin with blunt nails. Up and down your back his touch electrifies you. Your own noises unravel as he grows beneath you. 

  Murmuring his name, you arch into his touch, elongating your neck until his ravenous hands skim the delicate skin of your breasts, thumbs rolling against your nipples. His mouth attaches to your skin and you whimper when he rolls you over and lays you down on the dusty comforter. 

  Your ankles cross behind his back as he grinds into you, kissing you so deeply you couldn’t get enough. He was gentle with you, waiting for your nods of approval as he slipped your panties off. He trailed kisses down your cheek to your neck as his fingers swirled up and up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their trek. 

  Thunder and lightning competed for attention outside but you were lost in Eddie. Wrapping your fingers in his hair when he circled your clit, whimpering when he slipped his finger into your wet sex. 

  You weren’t sure where your moans ended and his began, but when he added a second finger you swore lightning broke through the window and struck against your eyes. 

  He was deliberate yet slow as he coaxed you along, kissing and licking at your neck, his hair sticking to his sweaty skin and yours. The wind picked up more and rattled the door as your legs shook beneath him, coming undone by his hand. 

  You laid in a dreamy haze and when you opened your eyes you realized the lights had gone out from the storm, but a flash of lightning lit Eddie’s skin in sheets of white light as he pushed himself up, taking one last kiss from your lips. 

  He didn’t hurry you along as you reached for the waistband of his underwear, only groaned when he popped up heavy against his stomach, a beaded pearl already formed on his tip. His impressive length seemed to grow before your eyes as you placed a hand on him, and he hissed as you tugged him. 

  He was stunning, kneeling before you, shining with sweat, his lips bit between his teeth from your hands stroking him. You laid down again, opening wide with a smirk twisted on your mouth. 

  Lining himself up with your entrance, your hands skimmed down the muscles of his back, feeling the way they rippled when he pushed himself in, your combined whimpers deaf against the thunder cracking. He was large, an ache you wanted between your legs again and again if he wanted. 

  Eddie’s eyes meet yours as he collects your lips with his, and you nod for him to go deeper. He stretched you until your breath quickened, making sure you were okay, kissing your cheeks, your eyelids, the spot behind your ear. It was soothing the way he took care of you, and when you told him he could move, he drug out of you slow, your walls constricting around him. 

  Cursing he squeezed his eyes shut as you clamped around him, and when he drove back into you, again and again, you swore you found Heaven. 

  You were both hard-pressed for air and sweating, your name falling from his lips in broken syllables as you both unraveled. Heaven was in his arms, in his smile, in the way his fingers laced with yours and pressed down into the mattress as his kisses deepened. 

  The storm raged war against itself outside but neither of you noticed. Tangled in eachother’s arms and once again joining together under the sheets, this time his lips pressed to your ear as he held you tight to him and took you from behind as you both laid on your sides. 

  Hours passed taking the clouds and thunder away. The only thing remaining on the mattress was a bottom sheet, one end still tucked and clinging for dear life. You didn’t know when you both ended up on the floor, and you didn’t mind the bite of the carpet on your knees as you wrapped your mouth around him. His moans spread across the room, no thunder to mask it. 

  When sunlight streamed through holes in the moth bitten curtain, his head laid on your bare chest, your hand in his curls. Dust danced in the warm rays across the room, laying heavy with the rest of the unkept space. 

  The buttery rays spread across your naked bodies, displaying the wine splotched skin marks on your chest. Your thighs had similar stains, ones that were licked better by the one who gave them. He had traces from last night on his neck and hips too, uneven stamps of purple and red painted from your mouth as you claimed him. 

  The two of you slept until the sun wavered to the west. . You had curled into him like a caterpillar in a cocoon, his breathing fanning your face as he gently snored, curls messy and frizzy. 

  Eddie’s clothes finally dried in the musty motel room, and you packed up and left when the sun was starting its radiant descent behind the mountains. 

  The small town was covered in wreckage from the storm, White Fir needles sprinkled the roads like confetti, branches laid across sections of the road that Eddie had to maneuver the truck around. But you finally made it back to the highway. 

  Back on the road. 

Weeks passed and things went back to the way they had before. You didn’t share a bed again, and you didn’t bother to ask why. Looks still lingered, but neither of you crossed that line again. 

  You knew Eddie was looking for something that was more than what you could offer, and maybe he was caught up in the heat of the moment, maybe the storm swayed his opinion on you just for that night. 

  It killed you to not feel his touch, not feel the warmth from his body heat as he slept, not feel those lips on your neck your thighs your chest. The ache between your legs lasted days, but it was nothing compared to the hurt in your chest. 

  He didn’t know you wiped tears away every night when the lights went off or during your shower. What you had together that night was something special, and you’d cherish it for the rest of your life. 

  It wasn’t until you were on the border of the western state that you noticed him starting to act differently. His stares became longer. He stayed up talking with you until the witching hour. Maybe he would miss your friendship when he got to where he was going, you’d miss him. But you knew your time together was coming to an end.

  Still, you braved a smile on your face for him. No strings attached, the only thing left between you was the shared bench of his truck and that stormy night where you both spent the storm in each other's arms until dawn. 

  He was still Eddie, still made you laugh and was the gentleman he always had been. But whatever started in that motel room lived and died there. 

  Those feelings you had for him were smoldering and you had to remind yourself that once you hit California it would be the end of your journey with Eddie. The man who saved your life in more ways than you could imagine, showing you kindness and compassion. 

  That was why he was on the road the same day you were. Fate brought him to you as a gift, an offering to soothe your soul from the wickedness you’d encountered, and for that, and Eddie, you’d be forever grateful. 

  California was on the horizon, and you had stopped at a small restaurant on the Nevada border before crossing into the final stretch of your journey. The food was good but the conversation was light, as if you both knew the end was nearing. 

  He had to look away from you more than once, shaking his head in the middle of a conversation as if to preserve himself from being hurt. 

  On the way back to the truck you felt the book start to close between your stories, and you nearly wept at the thought of never seeing him again. 

  “So,” Eddie asked, kicked a rock back to the truck after finishing up supper. “Where to now?”

  You slurped the rest of a Cherry Coke and made a confused face, “what do you mean? I thought you were going to California, lookin’ for love?” 

  He paused when you reached your door, eyes peering into the distance. “I made it this far without it.” He turns to you, looking so deep into your eyes your soul waved back at him. A smile creeps on his face, “well maybe not, cause look at what I’ve got.” 

  Your breath hitched in your chest and he closed the space between you, his hand on your cheek, the other on the door, “you might not be my love, but baby… I doubt it.” 

  Your eyes brim with tears as he presses his lips to yours. Lacing your fingers around his neck, he lifts you up into a hug, spinning you around in the desert sand. 

  He sets you down, placing his hands on your lower back, moving you gently in the same dance you had done months before. “I never told you,” he began, murmuring into your ear, “that day we met, not a single radio station would come in, I drove a hundred miles that day and nothing. But when I popped over that hill, and saw you walking with nothing but turmoil and angst on your shoulders, a song finally played, something I hadn’t heard in years.” 

  You move your head from his chest and smile looking up to him, “what song?”

  “The same one that played the last time we did this.” he said with a smile, “I knew when it played again that you were meant for me baby, that I’d found what I’d been looking for.” 

  And for the first time since you were a child, you knew that not all men were angry and hateful. Some of them were good, and handsome, and made you smile so much your cheeks ached. You felt your heart finally heal. Eddie sewing it shut, and the smile on your face mirrored his own. 

  “Told you I was lucky…now tell me love,” he said, kissing your lips and holding your face in his hands, “where are we going next?”

  You squeezed him against you and looked up at him, at the love you had also found that you weren’t expecting, “anywhere with you and all of your dumb luck is the only place I think I’d ever wanna be.” 

  …and you said “hey, do you wanna see the West with me? Cause loves out there and I can’t leave it be.”

  And I said “honey, loves never meant much to me, oh, But i’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need.” 

🌵 taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @micheledawn1975 @dashingdeb16 @hereforshmut @welc0me-t0-hellfire

@aropodcastfuck @erinekc @sage-glowstick @emma-munson @b-irock

@miaajaade @bastardstevie

[thepoisonjackal]

Do you have any headcanons or concepts of how houses would look for each tribe? I’m always so curious about what people think

Sure I can write some thoughts! I might doodle these later but I'm not the biggest fan of drawing buildings so we'll see. This is all coming from my OC Universe, but it's mostly consistent with canon too.

Skywing: It's said they like caves, so commoners and nomads probably just find whatever random cave they can find. If they actually take the time to build it, maybe they could carve out more intricate rooms, windows, pillars and carvings, and maybe the richer ones could get wood for balconies/struts/furniture. If they're built from the ground up, mostly a lot of stone work, stained glass for richer homes, tall pillars, not a lot of stairs (more for flying in and out) so a lot of open areas and big doors/windows to fly out of if needed.

Mudwing: Although the poorest live in those packed mud hut things, the common house is a beaver dam thing with an underwater entrance, an underground basement (though not very big) with more of a terracotta/brick based structure above ground. They're very warm and very open plan, not individual rooms per se but more of a big ol studio for all the sibs to live in. And you'd get a bunch of these in a village. The richer could probably afford wood stilts to get raised houses outside of the water made of wood, though not every mudwing prefers that because they like the mud to sleep in. So it's more of a merchant stall type thing rather than somewhere you sleep. The palace would be a mix of wood and terracotta brick, with a lot of water features.

Icewings: Most icewing houses are igloos or underground bunker type things. It also depends on where you're at. In the more mountainous areas, they could probably make relatively simple stone buildings that look more like fortresses/fortified castles, with snow and ice being used as mortar inbetween the stones. The rich houses and palaces though are in the heart of the ice kingdom, where it's coldest, and the houses are made of pure ice, either carved or made with frostbreath. Wood isn't the best for the cold, so they wouldn't bother importing it.

Seawings: Underwater, it's mostly underwater caves, or coral reef areas. They might be able to bring around some stones to create a little hut out of, but they're usually nothing super elaborate. Houseboats are popular for merchants because they can move their stuff around and catch the attention of swimming seawings. On land, on the shores, they would use stone and wood that they can get near the shore and from the sea. They're usually nothing super fancy or crazy, just functional for seawings who have business on the land more than they do the water. The palace would be in a coral reef area, with a lot of underwater/underground rooms. There would be a little bit above ground for when non-seawings visit, but its not used very much if there's not guests.

Rainwings: Pretty much just what canon says. A lot of wooden platforms, a lot of rope bridges and wooden huts with leaf canopies, it would be very layered and open for everyone to fly around. I don't have much to say here, I love the canon rainwing kingdom.

Nightwings: (In my OC universe they live in the mountains where Jade Mountain is in canon, so the range between the desert/rain forest area) Nightwings love the canyons more than the peaks, so they also love caves, but they adore taking their time with every single one and meticulously carving something into every cave wall. Rope bridges connecting the canyon walls, a real maze carved out behind each wall, and plenty of wood and gemstones embedded to show their wealth. The palace is built into the highest peak, with it being quite narrow relative to other palaces, but going very, very deep into the mountain with a lot of layers. There are a few towers and windows seen from the outside, however.

Sandwings: A lot of sandwings are nomadic, and towns are built around oases. The buildings are made of sandstone and brick, and due to most sandwings moving around a lot, inns are more popular than individual houses, though there are still houses for those who don't feel like moving around a lot. They tend to be not very noteworthy, mostly square with only a story or two, but with paintings and tapestries to spice it up. There's also tents for those going out into the desert and those who just want to rest in a town without getting an inn. A lot of sandwings also travel at night/dawn/dusk and sleep during the heat of the day. In the richer communities, they'll add wood and glass, and fancier inns. As for the palace, honestly I just visualize something that looks like the Taj Mahal or the Kremlin Palace. A lot of sandstone, glass, taller towers and walls, and water features to show off wealth.

[l1tw1ck]

Adventurers have always been known far and wide as a group willing to do things no same person would do, including exploring an area known as the wilds, a dense forest that surrounded all the kingdoms in the area containing all matter of dangerous mythical beasts. Beyond that was a mountain range not even the bravest dared go near in fear of the dreaded dragons.

This however didn't stop lux, a war mage, from deciding to explore it anyway. After all, one could only imagine what riches could be hiding in those mountains.

After weeks of travel and either hiding from or defeating various monsters lux begins his ascent on the mountain, making good progress until sunset when he finds a cave, deciding to stay for the night.

The cave was deep and dark, with no end in sight from the entrance. Lux summoned a fireball to light his way, delving deeper and deeper into darkness until he stepped on something, and lighting the area a bit more revealed a massive wealth of gold, completely unguarded, or so it seemed.

Mere minutes after his discovery lux can feel something behind him, the eyes of a predator boring into the back of his skull, a deep growl echoing from something dangerous.

He can barely turn to look at the massive beast before the dragon pins him, readying a mouth full of lightning. Lux squeaks in terror, struggling in an attempt to escape as he attempts to use his magic which stops the dragon from killing him, at least for a moment. Instead the beast seems to smile, or at least the best it could as it lets out a pleased growl, sniffing at the little human before huffing.

What our little war mage wasn't expecting to happen next was the ripping of his armor, followed by the descent of two absolutely massive cocks covered in bumps and ridges. The cocks practically dropped on top of him, the precum sending small electric shocks on the areas they touched. And those were going to be inside him.

Once he was well and truly terrified, the dragon began to slowly push inside both holes, seemingly uncaring of how he could so easily break. He can't do anything but twitch once the cocks completely stuff him, as he's so full.

He can't help but cry out as it rocks its hips, spearing him on twin cocks over and over again until he can't help but clench around them, squirting through rough thrusts.

It feels like hours before the dragon shows any change in pace, although by that point lux is too out of it to notice, poth ends having produced a puddle of drool that he lies in. But the dragon doesn't seem to notice (or care) when it rams itself in one last time and released torrents of hot, sparking cum, both holes being pushed well past full.

Hours later upon regaining consciousness lux is surprised to see that despite his soreness there's a pair of arms wrapped around his waist as well as a scaly tail around his thighs. looks like he's in for a long long few weeks at the least.

I might do a part two do this at some point. It would just be a lot more plot and world building. Also, could I be 🪻annon pretty please?

delicious 🤤 🙏🏾

and yes u can

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Affordable living in Mountain View, Hawaii with this off-the-grid yurt. There are a few catches, though. The solar power system is hooked up to the house next door and will be disconnected. A new owner will have to set up a new solar system—including panels, batteries, and an inverter. $179K.

Yurts are made of fabric and wood, but this one appears to have a metal outer shell wrapping.

A yurt is one large space, and you set it up as you like. The floor looks like bamboo.

The stylish bamboo furniture comes from Bali and is included.

There's a cute kitchen.

The sleeping area is next to the kitchen.

Screen walls form a closet behind the bed.

In Hawaiian fashion, the home features a large lava rock shower.

It has a composting toilet that you fill with peat moss, then spin the handle, and it becomes fertilizer. And, there's a lovely covered deck.

The owners were going to make a cesspool for the toilet, but when the backhoe started to dig the hole, they discovered this lava cavern. So, they had lava rock built around it. It’s just a cool feature, and they are fairly common in the area.

Naturally formed stalagmites and stalactites adorn the cavern. The lava-rock formations—created by water seeping through the porous rock—hang from the ceiling and protrude from the floor.

It looks like hot wax dripping from a candle.

You can see how deep the cave is- that's the ladder entrance way down there.

The home is in the Fern Acres subdivision and there's a variety of different homes in the neighborhood, where new-construction houses are in the $400,000 range and most of the roads are paved.

Each of the homes is on a 2-acre lot. The subdivision itself is about one-third developed. Each lot is 100 feet wide and 871 feet long, so it’s long and skinny.

The yurt is set back 500 feet from the driveway, so it’s pretty private.

 It was built in 1993, on a lot teeming with tropical landscaping. Since it's not a traditional home, it can't be financed, though.

[wordsformizu]

Your Father's Daughter

Mizu x Reader

word count: 3.8k

Chapter 13

When you came to, the skin on your cheek was greeted by the hard cold ground, shocking your body into wakefulness. A couple blinks, and you were scurrying to your feet in adrenaline filled panic. Your body ached, the sudden movement causing you to drop back to the ground, and you began to take in your surroundings as you started to calm yourself. 

Outside. You had made it outside. Clenching the hard snow in your hands, the memories had started to slip back into your mind. The running, the screaming of women, the gunshot that went off. You started to recall the last few hours you had spent in the mountain side prison with the apprentice and his master.

His master. 

You scanned your surroundings closely now. A few feet away lay his body. As quiet as possible, you crawled closer to him. The details of his damage became more clear the closer you reached until you were hovering over him. He had scarring on his skin, disrupting the smooth texture it usually had. Dried blood painted his face, some now washed off with the help of the melting snow. You could see his clothes had burn marks and tears from the fighting he did to push through the prison. His back moved slightly under his clothing. He was breathing. 

A surprising sense of relief washed over your mind like sudden rain on a pit of fire. You didn't dare reach out to touch him, but his breathing no matter how shallow his breaths were, gave you some peace. Especially with what it took for you all to make it out. 

Flashbacks of the last few hours passed behind your eyes. The bodies of the guards left on the floor as you two and the rest of the women made their way out the prison. The dim lit hallways as you all tried to use your memory to find your way back. That's what the guards had not accounted for. It had been so long since any of the other prisoners had seen their entrance in, they had forgotten how to leave and in doing so they became even more docile with their imprisonment, losing hope of escape. Not you, and clearly not the two men locked up with you. Hope was as reliable as a bad rope, but you all held onto it and looked for opportunities. Ringo receiving the beat down he had by the men with egos as big as their heads and coming back with the key to your escape was the first glance of freedom. His master making himself a target was the second. 

You remembered how it all went, the memories rushing you as you watched him breath on the cold winter floor. The scent of panic radiating off the prisoners, the rush of adrenaline in your veins as you pushed past. Soon you caught Ringo’s master stop at a corner, glancing around before dashing off somewhere else. You scoffed. Of course. This was his chance to escape. The prisoners were set free, but their freedom was no ones responsibility but their own. You looked around and found Ringo, guiding them. Still recovering from his bruises, yet he moved with agility and patience. He bent over to help those that he could as you all looked for another door, something that could lead to the outside. 

“Stop right there!” A man's voice rang out from the opposite hallway. Behind him were more guards to back him up and retrieve all the prisoners. You all had made it this far, and you refused to go back there because everyone was moving too slow. The blue eyed man had decided to take his leave the moment he could, and it was probably best you made the same decision. The selfish live longer.

The familiar sound of choking on blood, followed by a loud thud was heard from behind the man. You heard a sword slice the air before the cruel sound of its blade splitting skin, and then another body hit the ground. The men turned around to meet eyes with the bloodied samurai, now reunited with his blade once more. His fingers clasped around it with ease, almost like it was a part of his limbs. He readied himself for the next person to come his way now that his presence was known, and they charged him. 

Once again you witnessed the dance of his fighting technique. How his blade moved through the air, through the bodies of the guards. He became as fluid as the blood  he was spilling onto the walls of the prison. 

You stood and watched him for a second. He could have left. It was smarter if he did. There was nothing benefiting him in returning. The prisoners, bruised, weak and scared, moved like cattle. They would have held him back further. His apprentice, though kind and true at heart, could be replaced and you got the sense that he preferred traveling alone anyhow. He didn't need to return, and yet he did once again fighting another battle for those who can’t defend themselves. His eyes lit up with adrenaline as he sliced through the guards and for a minute you were reminded that he was the infamous onryo plaguing Japan. This demon performing the acts of a savior. 

He was still a demon nevertheless. 

You snapped back into your reality at this moment, the memory of his lightning blue eyes in the dark fading from your vision as you stared at his now closed eyelids. You couldn't let yourself get confused. He was still the enemy, on a mission to destroy the man who raised you. It all came rushing back to you now. Yes, his distaste for your father. The words he had said about him. Now that you have seen his skill, you know what he is capable of. It plucked a feather on the wings of your pride, but you had to admit that he was dangerous. 

Killing him here would put an end to all of this. You had no weapons on you currently, but even if you did you weren't sure if you could. You told yourself it was because he was laying at a bad angle, and if you didn't slice accurately or bash his head in with enough force you risk waking him up and entering a challenge you didn't have the energy to accomplish. Maybe he would die out here, you thought to yourself as you moved away from his body. Maybe an animal more savage than him would come here with an empty stomach and feast on his body. Maybe the cruelty of winter's nature would take him, opening the soil and embracing him under a blanket of white. Maybe it could do it for you, because in that moment you couldn't bring yourself to. 

You moved slowly, creeping away from his body until you could safely turn around and dash off into the woods. Ringo was nowhere to be seen, but he wasn't yours to concern over anyway. Once again it was just you on your own, like it’s always been. Branches slapped at your arms and ankles, and the cold air bit at your lungs as you ran through the woods, looking for anything to lead you to somewhere you recognize. Your memory brought you back to the escape now as you ran.

Through the dimly lit halls, around corners you used your memory to find your way back to the entrance you had taken just to find it surrounded. Luckily they didn't hear you, so you slipped back behind the wall and watched as they closed and locked the gate. They must have been notified that there was an escape happening. You cussed under your breath, and turned quickly. This would make it more difficult, but not impossible. There was a way out. There was always a way out. You’d either find one, or you’d make one.

You carried this same mentality with you while you traveled the woods. Minutes turned to hours as you gathered your surroundings, using them to guide you home. You couldn't have been far from the prisons in the mountain, meaning you weren't far from the project your father had them directing people from. You recalled the map your father has shown you on several occasions, and you remembered that his home was in the center of all of his projects. In his new world he was creating in Japan, he would be the center of it. The sun would be him and his grace would be the light and all would be right. You believed in his vision. You believed in him. 

Days went by as you continued your travel back home. The anticipation of seeing your father again fueled you. You had so much to tell him. About the people in the village. About the prison. About the samurai you left to die alone. Regret pinched at your sleeves like a stubborn child. Though it was weak, he was still breathing. On a normal assignment, you would have already spilled his blood. On a normal assignment, you would have made sure he never stood back up. You wouldn't see him again, you told yourself. He would die in those woods, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of your lack of action. If he was smart, he would realize that coming for your father has cost him more strain than anything. He would turn around and leave his mission behind. He would wake up and realize the returned favor for saving your life and everyone else's in the prison. He would seek out a different mission, you hoped.

But next time you saw him, you would not hesitate. 

The sound of swords slicing through the air and hitting skin was heard behind you as the memory slipped itself into your focus again. Finding the exit was the most important to you at this moment and you made it your goal to get to one, but as you scanned hallways to hallways, realization gleaned over you like a cloud. They were locking the gates, closing the doors, making it impossible to leave. 

When you were beginning to lose hope, a small light flickered over your frantically searching eyes and you realized in that moment what it was. A window of hope, literally. In a room down the hall there was an opening close to the ceiling. It was probably used for aiming out the side of the mountain with arrows or now supplied guns for trespassers. Moving towards it, you leaped into the air to hold onto the ledge and pulled yourself up with as much strength as possible to take a peek on the other side. It wasn't much of a fall, probably a few scratches or two, and the hole was big enough to fit a grown man. This would be perfect. For all of you.

You ran back to the group and Ringo met your eyes first. Tilting your head quickly in the direction you just came from, you and him took the group and started running towards the room again, and one by one you and the apprentice began lifting the people up and helping them out the window. Some were scared, fearful of what was lying for them outside these walls but you pushed for them to leave anyway. Anything was better than this prison..this prison that was burning. 

Unsure how, the scent of burning wood and smoke filled the air as Ringo pushed the last woman out. His master was still nowhere to be seen, but you could hear the fighting getting closer. Ringo reached over to you now, offering to help you first out the hole when you backed away from his reach. 

“You go.” You told him quickly, reaching for a wooden stool he could stand on.

“No, I can’t do that. I need to make sure you're safe-” 

“Now is not the time for hospitality. Go, Ringo.” Harshness brushed the edges of your tone. You weren't even sure why you were letting him go first. The selfish live longer, and yet here you were offering a chance of survival to someone else. Someone who was kind. 

“The women trust you,” you said softly “They’ll need you out there to lead them as far away from the prison as possible.” 

To that he nodded, but not before placing a nub on your shoulder and offering one of his small smiles. You watched him leap up on the ledge before leaning over to push him up with as much strength you could muster. The plush of his skin slipped from your hands as he fell out the window and you were dragged to the floor. The air in your lungs left as the weight of a man straddling you dropped onto your chest. One of the guards had finally found you all but was too late as now all the prisoners had escaped. You could see the rage in his eyes as he lifted his fist and struck your face. The sudden pain made you blink in and out of consciousness, and eventually you felt his hands around your throat. You flailed your legs as much as you could, and held onto his wrist with one hand while the other searched his person for anything to break you free. Spitting your blood in his face didn't seem to faze him either. He was determined to kill you. This is how you would die then. In the grasp of a soldier hired by your father. You began to lose consciousness for longer than just a few seconds, your grip growing weaker. 

Blood spilled onto you as his grip weakened and you gasped for air. When you opened your eyes, you saw the blue carefully sculpted sword directly in his scalp as he was still looking down at you before he died. The sword was removed, and his body kicked over to reveal the blue eyes of the man who killed him for you. He leaned over to offer you his hand, and you reached for your neck instead, rubbing the sore spot you knew would bruise. With shaky limbs, you stood up and limped towards the window. Here you let him help you as he climbed up too. The smell of smoke and blood left your lungs as you both lept from the window and into the fresh mountain side.

The smell of smoke and blood greeted you now. 

After days of searching, you found your fathers home but something was different. Instead of being greeted by his guards, you were greeted by a great flame instead. You watched from the hills in genuine confusion and distraught. How could this have happened? This area was guarded heavier than any kingdom, you had thought. The fire looked recent, like it had only started a few hours ago as it was still in its blaze. That did not stop you from running down the hill, past the gates, and into the place you once called home. 

Bodies lay to the left and right of you, the traps set out to catch intruders set off but with no intruder caught in them. Confusion circled your mind, racing like an untamed horse. How could this have happened? What could have caused this? Where was your father?

You could barely breathe, panting frantically as you ran through the halls of your burning home. Your limbs ached as you climbed steps, flung open doors, dodged planks of wood falling from the walls and ceiling. He was your number one priority. How could you have been gone for so long. How could you have left. The memory of your father’s hesitation to send you on this mission flashed behind your eyes. The look on his face, his silence. The frustration in your heart began to build on top of eachother until you finally belted out his name in hopes he’d respond. 

“Father!” You shouted. Louder than you’ve ever shouted his name before. It sounded frightful coming from your voice. Like the little girl he was still raising. Like the little girl he rescued. 

You turned the corner and finally spotted him in his office. He was standing with his back towards you, focused on whatever was before him. The room was ablaze. All his papers and paintings peeled black as the fire ate them, and the wood splintered and cracked as it fueled it more. Your father stood tall, no inch of fear or acknowledgment of the chaos around him. Tall and still as he focused on what was before him. You stepped a few paces towards him, and your eyes widened in shock.

For centuries, demons have been a topic of discussion in religious context. Your father told you they were once angelic beings who rebelled against their god, and therefore forced to live in the fiery pits of torturous chaos. That they wandered the earth in hopes to drag down the souls of the unfortunate so that they wouldn't burn alone. Onryo, demons, abandoning their purpose so they make theirs to lead you astray from the path of light and destroy everything you’ve ever known. 

You should have killed this one back when given the chance. 

“Your assignment has found his way to our door.” Your fathers voice was calm and he spoke in a tone like he was just relaying facts. As if his mens blood werent seeping through the floorboards. As if the walls were not burning around you. Catching your breath was difficult for all the smoke, but the smoke didn't stop you from meeting eyes with the demon himself. 

His blue eyes now almost glowing a brighter blue from all the adrenaline possibly running through his veins. His resting scratched up face that once lay in the snow, now covered in more scratches and fresher scars from the fighting it took to get in here. He looked beaten up. He looked vengeful. He looked everything, but ready to back down. 

“What an entrance, don’t you agree?” here he turned his head to look you over. You met eyes with his and warmth ran through you. Though the room around you both was engulfed in flames, his blues eyes were calm. The building was barely standing, and yet he welcomed you home with a simple glance. The anxiousness you had felt before began to melt off of you piece by piece as you were engulfed in his flame of safety and confidence. Home was never this building. Home was your father. 

“There is no time for family reunions. You die tonight.” spoke the demon, his voice raspy and deep as he picked up his blade. You stepped into the room now, rushing to your fathers side. Here you were again except instead of defending your fathers name, you were defending his person. You would die for him in this moment. In any moment. Your face dared the man to step further. You read the determination in his, but behind it lied something else. Something of regret. 

A firm hand reached your shoulder and held it. You felt his thumb stroke your shoulder as his other hand led down your arm, placing a weapon in your hand. You felt the trigger guard in your hand as your fingers became familiar with the gun your father had placed in them. He then began to lift your arm like he had when he was teaching you to use the weapon. You stared down the jaw screw and met eyes with the samurai again who had readied himself for the shot.

The shot that you could not take. 

Memories fought with your body, holding your finger. Sure, if the man had rushed you in this moment you would shoot him without hesitation, but he wasn't. He wasn't moving. He was staring at you with the same look of regret hidden behind determination. The same look you were positive you were wearing as well. You could kill the man who threatened you. You could kill the man who stepped any closer to your father. Could you kill the man who saves others in need? Could you kill the man who saved your life? Who kept you safe when he didn't need to? Why were you hesitating in this moment? Why were you hesitating at all? 

You heard a scoff.

You tore your eyes away from the man to look at your father and a chill ran down your spine. You prided yourself in knowing your father. The emotions he had on display. Sometimes what he could be thinking. No one knew him better than you, but here you couldn't recognize him at all. You couldn't read any emotion on his face. It was expressionless and bare, and words seemed to leave his mouth like an echo in an empty vessel. 

“Stupid girl.”

Next his hand, quick and heavy, covered your face entirely. You were still processing the painful grip of his fingers around your face before the pain of another hard object hit the back of your head. A desk? A wall? You weren't sure. You felt your body fall to the floor and the gun drop from your hand. You began to blink in and out of consciousness. 

His shadow was the only thing that offered shield to your body as he walked over you and towards his next target who now couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You tried to get up, but your body fell weak again. Blood spooled out of your mouth as you coughed and writhed on the heated floor. Your eyelids felt heavy as you tried to keep them open, fearful for what you would meet if you let them shut. 

You heard grunting and a sword slicing the air. You felt the vibrations of the burning wooden planks hitting the ground you lay on. You felt your body ache as you rolled to the side, trying to move and cling onto life still. You felt the warm blood spill from your mouth and pool around your cheek on the floor. You felt an arm. You flinched reflexively. You were scooped up and held tightly and a few paces later you heard footsteps, a broken wood, and felt the cold sensation of fresh air grace your skin.

You had opened your eyes at this point. Your father stood above you as you fell from his grace. You met your (E/C) eyes with his cold blue ones that stared down behind the samurai’s raven hair that danced in the wind as he took you under with him. The moon watched all from above, and the water below greeted you both with its cold embrace.

[rosemaidenvixen]

Between Daylight and Darkness

Chapter 5

<Previous Next>

Ao3

Over his many years in Trollmarket, and even Dwoza before that, Blinky had inadvertently found himself at the root of several market-wide disturbances. Usually as a result of his attempts to root out conspiracies. While Blinky considered a temporary chaos a necessary sacrifice in rooting out hated conspiracies from their market, others did not share this view, namely Vendel…among others.

But while today's events hadn’t been the result of one of Blinky’s attempts to uproot a conspiracy, the fact remained that this had the potential to be the largest catastrophe attached to his name yet.

Blinky cautiously peeked outside the stairway entrance, the cacophony of noise having greeted him halfway up the stairs, dreading what he might see.

Dozens of trolls rushed about, nervous chatter passing back and forth in voices ranging from hushed to booming. The word Trollhunter repeating again and again, underneath that was the occasional muttered ‘fleshbag’. Both the young Trollhunter and wayward humans had been lost somewhere in the crush of the crowd and the maze of buildings. The absence of their new Trollhunter and a lack of new information was making the crowd’s energy rise to a fever pitch. It would surely boil over unless someone stepped in and calmed them down.

And unfortunately it looked as though that someone was him.

Blinky climbed to the top of a large boulder, clearing his throat in preparation of raising his voice “Friends friends settle down! No need for a panic,”

Not every eye in the crowd turned towards him, but enough of them did that Blinky had to stop himself from squirming under their gaze.

“The new Trollhunter’s been chosen!” a voice called out from the back of the crowd “I saw them! They were here and then they ran off!”

Folding his two left arms behind his back Blinky used a right to point at the shouter “Right you are. The new Trollhunter is here, AAARRRGGHH and I escorted them to our fair market and their training will start post haste. So no cause for an uproar. You may all go about your bus–”

“They can’t be the new Trollhunter!” a new voice closer to the front cut in “They’re too damn young! Practically still a whelp!”

“Well you see–”

“And what about the fleshbags!? How’d they get in here?”

“Ah that’s an easy explanation, our new Trollhunter was protecting them from Bular–”

The second the Gumm Gumm prince’s name left his mouth a spike of alarm shot through the crowd, murmurings turning to panicked shouts and roars. 

Blinky froze, one hand still perched in midair.

Oh dear….

“But never fear! Bular was halted by the wards! There’s no danger here–”

His voice was lost in the din of the crowd, the trolls before him working themselves up into a frenzy, threatening to–

“What is the meaning of this!” 

In an instant every troll present in the square fell silent, Blinky included, swiveling towards the new voice. The crowd parting like all of the sea as Trollmarket’s elder made his way through.

“What sort of calamity justifies this ruckus?”

Both sets of hands netted behind Blinky’s back as he grinned down sheepishly at the approaching Vendel.

“Ah well it’s quite simple really, AAARRRGGHH and I found the new Trollhunter on the surface. They were in the process of rescuing a group of humans from Bular. Me and my mountainous companion then guided them to the safety of Trollmarket where…where…ummm…”

“Where you lost them,” Vendel said flatly “And unleashed a group of panicked humans upon our peaceful market,”

Blinky forced his grin so wide it hurt.

Vendel let out a low groan and kneaded the skin between his eyes with one hand, after a few moments he lifted the hand away from his face, jabbing a finger at Blinky then down directly in front of him.

Guts twisting in on themselves, Blinky got down from his perch and approached, AAARRRGGHH joining them until the three were bunched together.

“Only you could turn a simple retrieval mission into complete pandemonium…” Vendel muttered with a shake of his head.

“But at least we found the Trollhunter!” Blinky cut in “And brought them safely here, both them and the amulet out of reach of the dark clutches of Bular,”

“Believe me I know,” Vendel raised his head to look back at him “And I am more grateful than words can say for your doing so,”

Blinky felt all six of his eyes go wide  “Really!?”

Vendel flashed him a rare smile “Yes, but now that the immediate danger is past we must do damage control,”

He pointed the head of his staff at Blinky “Find where in Trollmarket our new hunter has run off to,” the staff pivoted up towards AAARRRGGHH “You gather the stray humans. I will settle the crowd, we’ll meet back up at my dwell with the Trollhunter to discuss what comes next,”

Both Blinky and AAARRRGGHH nodded affirmatively at this then began to move away to carry out their assigned tasks. Blinky made it a few steps then paused and turned back

“Ah! Vendel, what shall we do about…” he trailed off, the words sticking in his throat.

“About what Blinkous?”

“About…Draal,”

The mood between the three trolls shifted instantly, a shadow falling across Vendel’s face.

“We shall deal with Draal when the time comes, for now let’s focus on the problems we can control,”

With a quick nod and a heavy heart, Blinky turned away  and left the others behind as he headed down to narrower, less populated corridors of Trollmarket. Scanning every alley and crevice as he went.

Now if he was a wayward Trollhunter where would he hide? He was familiar enough with the various avenues to guess at which corridors to start, but Trollmarket was vast with many hidden nooks and crannies, more than enough places for a young troll to hide. Thankfully the commotion at the main entryway had attracted a large chunk of the market’s population, leaving the rest of the market sparse, so he wouldn’t have to fight through crowds while on his search.

Not to mention fewer trolls to hover over their new hunter and frazzle them more than they already were.

Reaching a crossroads, Blinky paused as he surveyed the paths ahead of him, tapping his chin thoughtfully. After a moments debate he chose his path and hurried on ahead.

It was no wonder the whelp had become overwhelmed and run off. There were full grown trolls that would quake at the responsibility of bearing the amulet of Daylight, to say nothing of how an unblooded stripling would react to such a monumental–

A blue flash in the corner of Blinky’s eye stopped him in his tracks, pulling his attention to a small alley. Moving quickly, he hurried over to the narrow stone corridor, sending a quick plea to Gorgus that his search was at an end. 

And perhaps Gorgus did decide to take pity on him because the Trollhunter sat just inside the alley. They were huddled on the ground holding their knees to their chest, breathing so fast and hard their whole body was quivering. Blinky fought to keep from wincing but couldn’t quite keep the grimace off his face.

This troll was so so young. Tusks small and horns rounded, nary a scar or a gouge to be seen. Where had this young troll come from, let alone come across the amulet? Blinky was familiar with all the whelps and striplings in Trollmarket and this fellow wasn’t any of them. The only thing he could think of was that they were part of a clan of surface dwelling nomads. But who would struggle with a whelp on the surface when a protected market full of resources was right below their feet…

Blinky shook his head. However it happened the amulet had chosen this stripling and they were here. It wasn’t within Blinky’s power to lift this burden from their young shoulders, but he could provide them sanctuary and the training to grow into their calling.

He cleared his throat softly, just enough to grab their attention.

The stripling stiffened, instantly going stone still on the ground.

“Are you alright?” Blinky spoke quickly, hoping to stop the young Trollhunter from running off in a panic again “You weren’t injured in your struggle with Bular were you?”

“No I–” the stripling gulped down a deep breath “I– I’m fine. That…Bular guy, is he…gone?”

“For all intents and purposes, yes. He cannot penetrate Trollmarket’s wards, you, and those humans you rescued, are safe down here,”

The stripling flopped back against the wall, arms and legs tumbling limp at their sides, practically melting into the stone, a deep shuddering breath escaping their chest.

“Oh, oh good, they’re…they’re safe,”

The corners of Blinky’s mouth twitched up into a smile. To have such care for even humans, going out of his way to rescue them from Bular when many a troll would have let them be slaughtered rather than risk their own stone. The young troll in front of him was still very much a stranger, but Blinky knew they had a kind heart. A thing which would serve them well as Trollhunter.

“So…this place is…Trollmarket?”

In an instant the smile dropped off of Blinky’s face. The stripling’s unfamiliarity with their surroundings was…troubling. Even exiles and surface dwelling nomads were still aware of Trollmarket. The only reasons he could think of such a young troll being completely oblivious were…tragic ones.

Blinky shook his head and stepped into the alley.

Well whatever their background was, this whelp had a home and community now.

“Correct, Trollmarket is hearth and home to many a troll,” he extended a hand down towards the stripling “Including you,”

The stripling blinked at the offered hand before turning their gaze up towards Blinky “T– troll, right,”

After a brief moment of hesitation they gripped the offered appendage and allowed Blinky to assist in pulling them up, standing on shaky legs.

“I am known as Blinky, son of the Galadrigal clan, Trollmarket’s principal librarian and scholar. Might I have something to call you?”

“J– Jim, son of…Barbara?”

“Well then young Master Jim, I am sure you have many questions,” Blinky stepped backwards out of the alley and stretched out his two right arms “I am happy to provide you with answers. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I know where we can discuss these matters in private,”

Jim appeared startled at his words, but he nevertheless stepped out of the alley after him “That– that would be great, thanks,”

Blinky fought down another smile as he turned and began leading the new Trollhunter towards Vendel’s dwell. Feeling not entirely at peace, but lighter than he had since before Kanjigar’s fall.

[ratsoh-writes]

Hey y’all! Say hello to

Ebott~

Or at least the first wip of the ebott map! I have all the main (above ground) locations so far!

For those who are wondering, dark brown is rocky hilly land/cliff sides, rusty brown is mountain ranges, khaki is grassland, green is forest, and light tan is beaches obviously lol. I don’t think I need to say what the blue areas represent.

I’ll add descriptions of each landmark below the next picture.

Alright starting from left to right:

Atlantis: home of the hadal monsters, the majority of this city is underwater, but some of it is accessible through the cliffs of bluefin island as well as floating buildings anchored to the shallower ocean around the island. The majority of Atlantis city houses its people in the curved section of the ocean trench by bluefin island. The buildings are carved into the rock.

Seashore: ebotts second largest beach town, seashore is a beautiful place where the majority of ebotts fishing trade takes place. It’s a popular vacation spot more for ebotts residents, but it does get some tourism too during holiday season.

Echo hills: the southernmost city of ebott, echo hills is a small city surrounded by grassy farmland. Due to the location, the place is raining more than not, and is perfect for crops that need lots of water! Echo hills is best known for its rice, producing just enough to sustain ebott.

Remembrance: located to the west on wells island, remembrance town houses one of the maintained entrances to the connected underground’s. It is also the point where the famine monsters were found and rescued. Here the royals placed the memorial of those left behind. Massive stone statues carved all over with the names of family who died underground or were left behind in the crash surround the caves entrance. A small town of monsters maintain the area, and some livestock are raised there as well.

The great dam: exactly what the name suggests, it’s just ebotts biggest dam. It’s part of the national forest so only a handful of maintenance workers and rangers actually live there. The dam is connected to waterfall lake.

The national forest entrance: this is the official way to see the national park, and access the maintained trails. Most of the park rangers live near here as well. There’s a small tourist trap too selling gift items, and farther up is a hunting lodge that opens during open season.

The Temple: located right in the middle of ebott, the actual temple building sits on top of three large mountains near kidney lake. The temple houses ebotts history and is a popular tourist spot. It also houses one of the maintained entrances to the underground, connected to some of the upper levels of waterfall.

NEW EBOTT: the largest city of ebott, and the capital of the county. New ebott has it all! The education, entertainment, shopping and jobs! And of course all the important big government buildings are here as well as most of the royals! New ebott is the only city connected to all the railroads and has the largest airport.

Rails Way: a city surrounding an important train stop, rails way is the in between rest stop between Portland and new ebott. Besides the trains passing through, it also is where trucks in ebott are made and fixed for the most part. There’s a few other factories in the city as well, like a few metal processing plants.

Metta Land: north to new ebott, this is basically a theme park, mega mall, and Hollywood all rolled into one spot. Metta land is so big that there’s even a few villages around it where its employees live. It also houses the only man/monster made entrance to the underground, going straight to hotland of course. What happens in metta land stays in metta land

Portland: this is the second biggest city of ebott located on the east. Almost all trade ships stop here. Portland is a bustling business city full of factories, and has a few houses of education too! It also houses most of ebotts navy and has the second largest airport.

Cape resort: located on the southern rocky cliffs, cape resort is in fact not a resort. It’s rocky, cold and generally horrible to live in if you’re not an aquatic monster lol. However it has an oil rig. Lots of hadal and sea monsters live there maintaining that oil rig.

New hope: new hope is a beautiful mountain town housing the entrance to snowdin, the largest entrance to the underground. It gets the largest amount of tourists year round and is a popular ski location during the winters as well. The parts of new hope that aren’t for tourists are mostly farmland or forests put aside for logging. Plenty of vineyards are in this area

Ridgeside factory: Ridgeside factory is ebotts main power plant and is directly connected to the core in hotland as well. It’s surrounded by a few villages too where more outdoorsy monsters live. Those who don’t work at the factory are either from hotland or are miners. The mountains in the area are littered with natural caverns being used as mine entrances

Golden valley city: the golden valley refers to the surrounding farmland, but in the very middle of it is the golden valley city. It is a rural type of place, is where the majority of ebotts produce passes through before being sold, and is a huge art center of the country. Just about everything above ground is grown in the valley surrounding the city.

Steeler city, the third largest city of ebott, steeler is where golden valley ships their produce to be preserved and spread around the rest of the country. Steeler is full of factories and restaurants. The most famous eating places of ebott are located here!

Crimson gate bridge: it’s a massive bridge named after the Golden Gate Bridge in California. This bridge is actually a sunny gold color, but they named it crimson in fear of being called copycats

Corncopia: a third farming community located between the split between white water river, ebotts biggest river. Corncopia is absolutely gorgeous but space is limited so it’s a fight to get any land there. The prime spots are taken by the rich for their homes or by the big wig farmers who cemented their place when the country was first forming

Not listed on the map is the underground! Ebott still has all the underground chambers from when the monsters were sealed away. New entrances to the underground are being discovered each day, and still plenty of monsters live there, preferring the comfort of a home they knew from before. Since there no longer trapped inside, the underground has become pretty comfortable. At least the discovered parts are ;)

I’ll describe the three main areas from smallest to largest

Hotland: hotland is really only a small thin chunk of the underground. A long but thin lake of lava surrounded by rocky chambers makes up the areas of hotland. The most popular spot of course is hotland city, connected to metta land, it’s pretty much the Vegas of ebott these days. The less visited spot, core, is a small town housing the core, connected to Ridgeside factory, and housing several research centers.

Snowdin. Snowdin is actual just the name of the small quaint town close to the underground entrance in new hope. They have year round skiing, and a pretty boat ride through waterfall straight to hotland for tourists. The outskirts of snowdin however have several villages filled with farmers growing magical crops that thrive in the cold temperatures.

Waterfall: it’s estimated that nearly 80% of the underground chambers are waterfall lands. Humid, cool but not frigid, and filled with varying levels of fresh and salt water, waterfall is underneath the majority of ebott, and even extends into the ocean some. Almost all of ebotts magical crops are grown down in the lived in parts of waterfall. It’s because of this area that ebott is self sufficient in feeding its people. Waterfall also houses the fourth and fifth largest cities of ebott; New Shell and Lily pad Fields.

Whew! That was a lot! I’ll probably add more to the map later on, but I think this is good for now

[rebelscums]

You Drew Stars (Hunter x Jedi reader)

Ratings: Angst

Summary: Mess around and find out.

Pt 10 to You Drew Stars

“We’re almost there.” Tech’s voice rang out through the otherwise silent cockpit as he exited hyperspace.

Hunter glanced up from sharpening his knife and took in the view of the large planet. The world seemed flush with life as mountains rose and trees filled the land. You wouldn’t think that this world would have a secret lab conducting unlawful experiments with kidnapped clone troopers… Clearly the perfect choice for the empire to set up such a dangerous operation.

“We will have approximately three minutes when I land to get inside without being detected by security.” Tech stated once again.

“Got it.” Hunter put the storm trooper helmet on that Rex obtained for them.

He already didn’t like the way the suit fit him or how it was a lot less mobile then the uniform he used to wear when he was fighting for the republic… How times have changed.

“Wrecker, make sure you get the ship somewhere inconspicuous and wait for our signal… And it all else fails… Do what you do best.” Tech stated.

He then motioned for Wrecker to take the controls as soon as he landed the ship near one of the secret entrances to the mountain.

“Let’s go.” Hunter stated.

Echo and Tech followed behind him, each wearing an identical storm trooper outfit to Hunter’s. They remained quiet and vigilant as they entered the mountain and made their way up one of the ventilation shafts.

When Echo peaked his head out and saw that the coast was clear, they exited the vent and began pretending as if they belonged there.

The three stayed clear of any suspicious personnel that could blow their cover as they made their way to the level that they were keeping clone troopers.

“Up ahead and to the right.” Tech voice spoke through their personal comms.

They entered the room and was met by rows of multiple clone troopers being held against their will.

“He should be in one of these cells.” Echo said as they began their search.

Each cell was met by another familiar face, but none with the signature crosshair tattoo and permanent scowl.

…

“Can I come with you? Please? I can’t just sit here waiting a moment longer. I’ll go crazy.” Omega pleaded with Phee as she was boarding her ship.

“I know, but your brothers insisted that you stay here and I didn’t expect an urgent call from Sid. It should only take half a day tops and I’ll be back for dinner alright?” Phee tried to say.

“See! You said it yourself. Only half a day tops which means I should be able to go with you!” Omega begged and the look in her big eyes that quickly made Phee fold.

With a sigh, Phee motioned for the young girl to follow her, “Alright, but you have to listen to everything I say. Promise?”

Omega nodded eagerly as she strapped herself in the copilots seat, “Promise.”

“And I expect to get one of those smoothies that you and Wrecker have been making.” Phee said with a small grin.

Omega crossed her heart, “As soon as we get back I promise to make you one.”

…

“Do you think he might be on another level? Did we miss something?” Hunter asked as he looked into another cell.

Each cell they past left an empty feeling in each of their hearts. One, that their clone brethren were locked up and two, because their brother was nowhere to be found. The image of what has become of their brothers in arms have left a permanent scar in their minds.

Tech shook his head, “Negative. All clones have been stationed here in this cell block.”

“But he’s not just any type of clone.” Hunter shook his head, “They could have transferred him somewhere else.”

“I highly doubt that. He has to be here. There is no other place where he could be.” Tech urged as they moved forward.

“I’m going to check the layout and see if there’s a turn up ahead.” Tech looked at his data pad following behind Echo and Hunter.

“Let’s not give up just yet. We’ll keep searching until we find him.” Echo said with certainty laced in his voice.

…

“What did Sid say that she needs to talk about anyways?” Omega wondered as she swung her legs.

“Don’t know.” Phee shrugged, keeping her eyes on the stars while she flew her ship, “She just said that it was important. Maybe if we’re lucky enough, it’ll be another treasure hunt.”

“Oo!” Omega’s eyes lit up, “We haven’t gone in one of those in a while! That would be fun and I’m sure my mo-” Omega suddenly stopped swinging her feet as her happy expression fell realizing she caught herself forgetting again.

“I lost my mom when I was young too.” Phee mentioned when the silence grew heavy, “She was an amazing women. The best treasure hunter in the entire galaxy and one day… Something went wrong and I never saw her again.” Phee spoke gently, “It’s the memories that you have that counts so don’t be sad. Be proud.”

Omega nodded, “I just… I feel that she’s still here with us somehow.”

“I feel like that about my mom too.” Phee said.

Omega fell back into her seat, leaning her head against the headrest, “She would have liked a treasure hunt.”

Phee smiled softly, “I’m sure she would have.”

…

They were cutting it close as their pace quickened with each turn. They knew that it was only a matter of time before storm troopers will be poking their heads around the corner and figuring out they weren’t actually one of them.

This whole mission was dangerous and yet none of them would turn back. Not if it meant saving their brother.

“There!” Echo quickly pointed towards one of the last few cells.

Hunter let out a breath of relief as the three of them ran up to the cell.

There they found Crosshair, barely moving on the ground with bruises swelling over his skin. It looked like he had been through hell…

What happened to him? Hunter thought as Tech quickly got to work on disarming the cell shield.

“None of the others look as bad as he does.” Echo mentioned what Hunter was just thinking, “They wouldn’t have done this to just any clone… There must have been a reason…”

Hunter and Tech both nodded in agreement.

“Maybe because of Omega?” Hunter questioned.

“That is highly plausible. The cell should be open… Now.” Tech stated and suddenly the shield vanished.

Hunter and Tech quickly made their way to help their brother up as Echo stood guard.

“Crosshair.” Tech gently shook his brothers arm and doing a quick scan to check his vitals.

To that touch, Crosshair reached up and held his brother’s arm in his own death grip.

“Don’t touch her.” Crosshair growled before he fell unconscious again.

“Her?” Tech furrowed his brows underneath the helmet, “Crosshair, who are you talking about?”

“What does he mean by her?” Echo asked as he glanced towards the three in the cell.

“I don’t know, but we have to go. We’ll ask him later.” Hunter shook his head before helping Tech lift their brother in their arms.

“Echo, we need to get to a database. Rex requested we obtain all information about Project Light.” Hunter ordered and as quickly as he was trained to do, Echo tracked down where they needed to be.

“You need… Go…” Crosshair was once again fading in and out of consciousness as he muttered each word, “In… Trouble…”

“We’ll go soon, brother.” Hunter tried to console his brother as they entered a room filled with computer systems, “Just hold on a bit longer.”

Echo quickly inserted himself into the data base and began searching for the proper file that he needed.

Suddenly they were sealed shut inside the room as red lights and a loud alarm started blaring throughout the base.

“I think they suspect we are here.” Tech stated as a matter of fact.

Echo, Tech, and Hunter took off their helmets.

Hunter sighed, “Didn’t notice.”

Hunter looked to Echo with urgency, “Echo where are we at with those files?”

“Almost there.” Echo muttered without looking away from the screen, “You just need to buy me some time.”

…

“Come on. Up out of your seat little copilot.” Phee patted Omega’s shoulder as soon as she landed the ship.

The two were off the ramp and heading towards Sid’s bar without a worry in their mind, save for the boys of course. They both only wished that they would come back safe and sound with Crosshair.

“Oddly quiet tonight.” Phee remarked as she noticed the streets were pretty bare, unlike what she was used to seeing.

“I’m going to head to Sol and grab some cakes for my brothers if that’s okay?” Omega asked.

Phee nodded her head, not seeing the harm in it, “Sure thing. Grab me a snack while your at it too. Something fruity.” Phee smiled as she pulled out some credits and handed them to the girl.

Omega nodded her head and took off, leaving Phee to continue the rest of the way to Sid’s.

“Hey Sid!” Phee called out the the older woman as soon as she stepped into the bar.

It only occurred to her then that the place was empty also and a unwanted feeling began to make its way through her chest, sending pulses to her brain that told her to run.

“I’m sorry, but I need to know where the kid is Phee.” Sid appeared from her office, followed by two storm troopers, a short man in a coat and…

“You…” Phee’s eyes widened at the sight in front of her.

The cloaked woman’s body was covered by a black coat with a hood to conceal her face.

Phee held her breath as she waited for the mysterious form to reveal themselves. Slowly, the figure pulled the hood down with a metal arm to reveal a face that confirmed Phee’s gut feeling.

Phee breathed out in disbelief and happiness, “You’re alive.”

It was the man in the coat that spoke next.

“My name is Dr. Hemlock. Sid here told us all about you and how much you love treasure.” He threw a bag onto a nearby bar table and the remnants inside revealed jewels that she has never even seen before, “I know you are a smart woman and you don’t want to be caught up in this mess so be a dear and tell us where Omega is.”

Phee glanced at the bag intently. She slowly looked at the Jedi who had a glazed look over her eyes as if she wasn’t even present.

“What did you do to her?” Phee glared at the doctor.

“Don’t mind your friend, she wouldn’t even remember you even if you tried to tell her.” Hemlock waved his arm and without a second thought, the General ignited her lightsaber.

“Now. I am pretty sure I have made us a fair trade here.” Hemlock said and this time his voice was far from kind, “Tell me where the girl is.”

…

Hunter could hear footsteps quickly approaching them. He placed the rest of Crosshair’s weight to Tech before he smashed the key code to enter the room.

“That should buy us some time, but not a lot.” Hunter stated, but with a less than confident look as the banging continued outside of the door.

“Hunter…” Echo’s voice was oddly quiet as he stared at the screen in front of him.

“What?” Hunter turned to look in Echo’s direction.

He didn’t like the way that Echo looked up as if he had just seen a ghost.

“What is it?” Hunter repeated, his voice snipped as he waited for Echo to give him an answer.

“It’s.. It’s the general…” Echo took a pause to collect himself, “She’s still alive.”

…

Omega felt herself slow her run as she reached the Sol cafe. The lights had been shattered inside, leaving the cafe as dark as the street outside.

“Omega?” A familiar voice called out to her.

She hasn’t heard it in quite a while, but the waiter poked his head out from behind a booth with wide blue eyes, “What are you doing here?” Indul asked.

Omega rushed to him, wincing as she saw the deep gash that scarred his right leg.

“Are you alright? What happened to you?” She asked as she looked around at the destroyed restaurant.

“I don’t know who they are… There was one one… Black robe, they wore a hood and wielded a lightsaber. They killed Jun.” He pointed shakily to the kitchen.

He looked up panicked and scared, “They came in here looking for you Omega… You need to run. Get away as far from here as you can.” He struggled to talk through the steering pain, but the urgency was president in his voice.

Her hands hovered over his wound, not sure of what to do, “I can find Phee and she can help you.” Omega said as she stood.

“I don’t need any help.” Indul shook his head with a sigh, “But you can’t go out there by yourself.” Indul struggled to stand, “I’ll go with you.”

Omega immediately shook her head and gently sat him back down, “I’ll be fine, you need to stay still.”

“Mary is grabbing some medical supplies for my leg.” Indul assured as he placed his hand on top of hers, “Go… And may the force be with you.”

…

“Tick tok.” Dr. Hemlock spoke in a bored tone as he glanced at his watch.

“I won’t.” Phee shook her head as she took a step back and crossed her arms, “I don’t know how many pirates you’ve come across, but I ain’t one of them.”

Hemlock sighed, “I really hoped that you would have been more easily suaded like your dear friend Sid here, but I suppose it can never be that easy twice, can it?” Hemlock motioned to his new toy, “Kill her and find the girl.”

The Jedi stepped forward, a murderous look in her gaze as she lifted her lightsaber.

Phee raised her hands up, “You don’t have to do this. Please.” She said as she took a few steps back, the jedi matching with a step of her own.

Suddenly the doors to the cantina swung open and two cans of smoke rolled through the doors.

“Hurry!” Omega shouted to Phee who took no time in following the young girl out the door.

The two bolted down the street as they headed straight for their ship.

“How did they find us?” Omega asked.

“Sid sold you out kid!” Phee said as they ran.

“What? No. That can’t be!” Omega yelled shocked.

“We’ll talk about it later, this way!” Phee yelled as they took a right.

They were almost to their ship when suddenly large rubble and stone broke from a building, sealing their path shut. As they turned they could see the glowing purple from a lightsaber.

“Who is that?” Omega asked as she squinted at the cloaked figure.

“It’s…” Before Phee could answer, Omega was falling to the ground in a heavy sleep.

As Phee looked up in shock, she watched her old friend wave her hand and in a second she was out like a light.

…

“What do you mean?” Hunter’s voice was cold.

He could quiet literally hear his heart beat loudly in his eardrums blocking out the banging on the locked door as he stared at the screen that showed the very being he couldn’t live without.

He could see her face, void of any emotion as she stared at whoever had taken the photo. Her scanner showed active on the screen with the word successful project written in the top right corner of her file. His mind was racing with confusion as he tried to piece together what could have happened to her during these last few months…

The pain she must have endured. That thought alone sent a knife through his heart.

“She must have been alive when… They took her.” Echo muttered as he glanced at his brother’s reaction, “She must be who Crosshair was trying to protect…”

“Alive?” Tech echoed the word as Crosshair leaned into his side. He kept a tight grip on his brother to keep him balanced, but that didn’t stop the lump that formed in his throat, “She was alive and I left her.”

Hunter’s fury laced in his bones as he ripped the frame piece from piece. His voice roared through the sealed room as he ripped through everything he could find. Echo, Tech and Crosshair stood against one of the walls as they watched Hunter mentally loose himself. They listened to the sound of the shields disappearing in the next room, letting them know that Hunter had just inadvertently released the clones being held hostage.

“We left her.” Hunter’s voice was barely a whisper.

He headed straight to the sealed door that now opened up to the stormtroopers on the other side. Each swift movement, each yell gave way to a storm trooper falling to the ground until Hunter stood above them remaining victorious and blinded by rage.

His brothers slowed stepped to the entrance of the room, watching their brother with concern.

Hunter stood there, unmoving as each clone warily stepped out of their cells.

“Burn this place to the ground.” Venom laced his voice and fire filled his eyes as the sirens blared and the battle cries of his brethren rang out through the halls.

“We’re bringing her home.” Was Hunter’s final words as he grabbed his blaster and led his brother’s back to the Marauder.

Just hold out for me a little longer mesh’la, I’m coming for you.

[saphirered]

Hi!! Could I please request a newly mated Rhysand? 😍

I got a little carried away with this one. Warnings for smut. Very freshly mated during this fic and of course we have to haunt the Court of Nightmares a little bit with some shenanigans. Enjoy! 😘

Happy lives make for poor stories, or so you’d told Rhysand when you became more acquainted. You were exactly everything he could do without in his life back then; high ambitions, an unwillingness to compromise, a decent moral compass though easily discarded when the goals outweigh the means, a mind weaponised and an appearance to match. He knew you’d be trouble the moment he laid eyes on you and from that moment he knew he was screwed because despite all alarm bells, against all better judgement he felt himself gravitating towards you and he found; you have a good heart, a truly good heart. Even now, the Court of Nightmares has gathered for a banquet in your honour and you have the guts to be fashionably late, leave all the dimwits and fools wait simply because it is some petty payback for those who would rather see failure, see his failure. Fear and cruelty are the only things these people respond to and you are daring them to lash out, to test you and remind them this time, it is you who is in control. If that isn’t a turn on, Rhysand doesn’t know what is. Finally the doors open and in you stroll. He’s doomed. Completely and utterly doomed. 

The throne room falls quiet, not but the clicking of your heels against the stonework echoing throughout. The crowd parts for you, creating a direct path towards him. Rhysand leans his chin on his curled fingers, trademark smirk studies your every move, your wicked stare that promises mayhem, the sway of your hips, garments formfitting and bordering inappropriate. You’d made a conscious choice to be a menace today. He supposes he should not expect anything less from his mate. He had suggested a quiet night in, somewhere far away from this world, this life. You’d made a counter offer of the opposite; a grand feast in the lion’s den. Leave it to you to suggest a power play against the Court of Nightmares; your first public act together and marking the beginning of your lives together. He’d argued that perhaps the cabin up in the mountains would be better suited for the activities after the completion of your bond. But when you retorted that you had no opposition to an audience. Eyes did not have to be present for your coupling of course, but plenty of ears would hear even behind closed doors. Let them hear. Let the whole court know for all you care. Though you made clear you’d not mind the time or place as long as you shared it with him. He gave it some thought and the images he’d seen in your mind, the ones you pushed towards him left him in agreement with you, and somewhat hot and bothered; something you’d apologised for and took care of on your own terms. He did not complain. 

Not once do Rhys’ eyes leave you, not when you size up the crowd, not when your wicked grin spreads at the eyes on you, ranging from reverence to disgust. Good. Perfect. The crowd closes behind you, cutting off the path to the doors once more but you have no eyes for what lays behind you. You feel that burning stare, that gentle tether that pulls you closer towards the steps of that throne atop which sits the violet eyed devil himself. 

“You’re late.” The voice in your mind seems amused. You don’t fight a smile.

“Fashionably on time. Don’t blame me for your lack of dramatic entrance.” Rhys’ laughter echoes through your mind even though his face displays nothing but smugness. Finally you make it to the steps in front of which you stand back straight head held high. He straightens himself in his seat. The crowd does not dare whisper but waits in suspense. You take another step forward, and then another, up the stairs until you’re on the platform. 

“You know it’s customary to kneel before your High Lord, or have did you decide to leave your manners in our chambers?” At the top of the steps, but a few feet from him you bow, deeply and give him an ample view of what you up on display oh so intentionally. Tease. 

“If you wanted me on my knees you should have just said so, my dear.” You muse and Rhysand doesn’t respond. He gets up from the throne and covers the short distance between you two until his boots are within your vision. His fingers lift your chin until you’re staring up at him. Eyes defiant, plump lips slightly parted, and all in all you are a vision that promises mischief. Rhysand is tempted to dismiss the court and take you right here right now. Or perhaps he he’d neglect dismissing them and see how many of them will favour disappearing as he extracts every moan and whine from you he can. The thought is certainly tempting but the satisfaction of dragging this out for just a little while longer makes the end goal all the sweeter. 

“Excuse my tardiness, High Lord. I was seeing to some final preparations for the day’s events.” The insinuation of that statement gains plenty of chastised expressions as it does blushes and looks of disgust. Rhys urges you to rise and you do. He strokes the side of your face until his hand cups your cheek. You lean into the touch, tilting your head at an angle ever so slightly and look through your lashes; an invitation. His lips press to yours. The kiss is anything but chaste. It is heated, leaving a longing for more. You feel his hand press against the small of your back, pushing you closer against him and you curl yourself into his form, wrapping your arms around his neck. Managing to extract a muffled moan from you when the hand on your back wanders lower, he pulls away and leaves you pouting, brushing away a stray curl. 

“Your punishment will be determined later.” That is a promise. You resist the urge to scoff. “I think we’ve let them wait long enough, darling. Let the banquet begin.” He takes your hand in his, and guides you along to the head of the table. There’d been a seat at the other end; set up for a High Lord’s partner as opposed to a spot on his left side, but Rhysand has no intentions of letting you sit so far away from him. Instead he guides you along to his seat, sits down in his throne-like chair and you do not miss a beat, sitting down on his lap sideways, back to the arm of the chair, and legs draped over the other, as he rests an arm around your back settling on your waist. Keir, at his right side looks ready to oppose but it takes a single look from his High Lord to shut him up; this is nonnegotiable and right now you and Rhys can make the Darkbringer commander’s existence a whole lot more miserable. 

Plenty try to ignore the elephant in the room. Others have simply accepted this is just how it’s going to be. And some cannot look away for a variety of reasons. The High Lord and his mate engage in rather intimate displays of affection to which the whispers are but innocent and the wandering hands and gentle caresses are only so much away from bedroom habits. Rhysand has been careful to display anything truly loving and soft in fear of a weakness shown to these animals waiting for the opportune moment to strike but you are his mate. No one would be so stupid to make a such a reckless move. You’d assured him all would be well, had teased him enough to have him forget about showing that softer side and lean into your provocative intentions, enable them and retort with his own. He’d seen and felt the growing displeasure of some of his courtiers and it’d became a fun game with you to see how far you could push them, which one would break first and speak up. Your money was on Keir. You’d actively been gunning for him to try and get him to break but he’d proven more resilient than even Rhys expected. Though, you’d be right. 

“Enough of this. If you wish to fuck your mate, do so but dismiss the court. This is a disgrace.” The male grumbles in disgust making you pull away from Rhysand amused.

“I win.” You muse leaning your head against his shoulder as you cross your legs, playing with the lapel of his jacket. Minx. Rhys turns his attention begrudgingly away from you and is forced to face his uncle. That doesn’t stop him from brushing his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh higher up to your hip with each passage, feeling the goosebumps form at the light touch. 

“I’ll dismiss this court when I feel like it, Keir. Remember your place.” There’s no warmth in his voice, not like the words he’s spoken to you, only the dead of winter remains in that tone, in his eyes, across his features. This is the High Lord of the Night Court showing he does what he wants and is not to be questioned. The Darkbringer opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. First his glare is directed at the High Lord but quickly it turns to you when he sees your fingers moving and still, and with it hold his ability to speak. “You were saying?” Rhys seems almost disappointed at the lack of reply, and indifferent to the choked sound that does escape Keir’s lips when you decide to squeeze on that invisible hold just a little tighter. The majority of the table has stopped eating, all eyes falling on this display, anticipating what will come next. 

“I’m sure the steward had nothing but the best intentions at heart, my love.” You kiss along the underside of Rhysand’s jaw as you cast your eyes to the crowd. 

“I suppose they do look a bit… shall we say bothered?” Rhys muses and you feel a pinch to your hip but cover your response, and let your hold on Keir drop. The male breathes as if he never had before, bracing himself on the table. “Well then. Do you wish to leave and skip this celebration of my charming, beautiful, benevolent mate?” With the promise of death he gazes over the courtiers. Silence looms as the tension rises. No one dares respond. Even Keir has gone silent again, though he bites his tongue with an equal venom in his gaze as you offer the male. Rhys goes to kiss you again, if only to make a statement but you stop him, and simply peck his cheek before your rise from his lap, and step up onto the table, careful to avoid the grand dishes and plates. You make sure to look at your guests, stare each and every one of them in the eye as your mate studies you, as you put on this display. You bend down in front of a male; blonde hair, grey eyes expression unreadable like a properly schooled member of the Court of Nightmares. 

“Does all of this make you uncomfortable?” You hum with a kindness that this court regards as a mercy before the axe. The male takes a deep breath but doesn’t respond. You just hum displeased and rise again. “I believe your High Lord asked you all a question.” You turn on your heels gracefully and grin wickedly at Rhys who simply offers his hand in your direction even though you’re some distance away. You reply to his summons and slowly make your way back over to him. He rises and helps you off the table onto the floor. He breaks away from your gaze, and back is the coldness. 

“Out. Now.” They don’t need to be told twice. Some winnow, others rush as the doors are opened and every single soul present in this hall makes themselves scarce until it’s just the two of you left, until those doors fall closed once more. 

“Dare I say that was a success?” You grin and the answer is provided in action as opposed to word. In a swift motion the plates, cutlery and glasses are pushed away, clearing the table space. You’re lifted off the ground by your thighs, wrapping your legs around Rhysand’s hips as he sets you on the table as his lips brush along your cheek and jawline, until they dip lower, down your neck licking and kissing and sucking until you make the little sounds you do, until your pleased laugh turns to a moan. 

“Very much. That was quite the display. Though the game’s over now.” He smiles against your throat as he pulls your hips closer against him, until you feel him pressing against you, feel his excitement. You pull him away from your neck, cup his face stroking your thumbs over his cheeks.

“Oh the game has just begun, my love.” You smile sweetly, letting your hands drop to his chest, playing with the closures of that perfect jacket until he grasps them in his. 

“We have a bond to complete, don’t we?” Those words spark a fire within you, despite the fact you play innocent. You know he peers through that pretence with ease. You’ve let your walls down after all, invited him to witness your every thought unfiltered. 

“No foreplay?” You joke as you pull back. You push him down by his shoulders until he is seated once more. When you feel his fingers brush up your thighs, sliding beneath the fabric of your attire you simply cross your legs tutting. 

“Must you torture me so? Have you not had your fill with the court?” He jests as with a wave of your hand a covered dish appears off to your side. Despite its cover Rhysand is instantly reminded of something homey, something comforting. Never has he felt it, or thought himself capable of feeling this here in the Court of Nightmares. When you pull away the cover it becomes stronger, the scent of spices and herbs perfectly mixed with the ingredients to create a delicious looking curry. You bend back to grab a spoon and take the bowl in your other hand. 

“Don’t make me lose my patience.” You roll your eyes only to be replied with a pinch to your thigh leaving you gasping. “You know, we could just postpone a little longer.” You can barely speak those words even if they are a joke. You want to get this over with too at this point. All standing in your way of solidifying this mating bond is that curry you prepared. 

“Of course we could.” Rhysand does not miss your tone and the aversion at the mere thought of delaying this union even longer. He shares your sentiment. 

“Another week?” You suggest as you heap a spoon full of rice and curry. 

“Why not a month?” He retorts and you’ve had enough. You push the spoon to his lips, parting at your offering and successfully shutting up any further witty comment or retort. 

For the first time in a very long time, or perhaps even ever Rhysand feels his mind quiet, peaceful and void of all distraction. His focus is only on this beautiful creature that sits in front of him. Everything around him ceases to matter because this world is not the one for him if it lacks his mate; the one who loves him unconditionally, who knows him, who accepts him, the one who looks past his horrors, and holds him when the dark becomes too much, who embraces him when he comes to fear what lies ahead, when he loses courage and the path to true darkness is as easy as it is tempting. You reminded him he’s a fighter not because you push him to fight, but because you gave him something worth fighting for. Everything just makes sense, even if he doesn’t have the answers. Everything just feels right and as it should be. 

He sees your eyes, waiting for a further response and equally dazed at first to come to these realisations, but there’s that serenity; a calm in the storm that surrounds the two of you. He sees your eyes, sees through them and stares straight into your heart and he knows that it holds a love to be true, he knows part of his heart will always be with you no matter where he goes, and the knowledge that part of your heart will be with him, it is comforting and reassuring. You will always have each other. When this world crumbles, he will stand beside you and it would be a damn good life. You put the empty bowl aside, spoon with it and breathe. The rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your lungs expanding and retracting, every twitch of muscle he’s aware of it all. You cross your legs a little tighter rubbing your thighs together as your hands collect in your lap hesitantly. Rhysand reaches out, takes your hands in his, and brings them to his lips pressing a kiss to your palms and knuckles lovingly. He might feel that frenzy in his veins spark to life further, and by the looks of you too but that does not mean he cannot be loving, cannot show you how much he appreciates you, cherishes you and above all; loves you. 

“This is it.” You breathe. His fingers trail up your arm until they settle on your neck and cup your face. He stands and you finally uncross your legs, allow him to step in between. Ever so sweetly does he plant his lips against yours.

“This is it.” He kisses you once more, lets his hands wander, but careful to avoid any sensitive areas just yet but not missing the opportunity to spark shivers within you, when they trail down your sides and come to rest on your hips. He pulls you closer to the edge of the table, fingers brushing up and down your thighs, inching closer to the inside, inching closer to your apex and leaving you short of breath in anticipation already. He looks you straight in the eye, ever so close, takes in every response. He hasn’t even touched you proper yet as you fight the urge to lean into that gentle touch, so terribly close to where you want him to venture. 

“What do you want?” He asks. The question is not lewd nor innocent. It seems so trivial yet so meaningful.

“You.” You gasp as he brushes along those sensitive nerves. A soothing kiss finds its way to your cheek where you can feel the curl of his lips form a smile. You bring your own hands up to cup his face and hold him in place. “I want you and I’d like to have you now.” One of your hands trails down his chest, lower and lower. His breath catches when you brush over the straining fabric of his trousers and feel him twitch. 

Rhysand has other plans. While he certainly appreciates your advances and has every intention of taking you on this table he’ll be patient. He strokes along the apex of your thighs, but halts your own hand settling on him. He tuts and trails kisses along your neck down, lets his teeth graze across your bare skin, pushing aside the fabric that barely covered you in the first place, until he kneels between your legs. A kiss sucks along the supple skin, and another, and another. Your hand settle within his hair, brushing through, as he holds onto your hips, keeps you from moving too much. You are so sensitive at this point, your breathing already laboured from the littlest attention, and the knowledge of what is to come. You relish in it, when you moan his name, and whine when he pulls away those skilled fingers all too soon. 

You feel his chuckle against the skin of your thigh, and finally he obliges, finally you feel his lips kiss that final path to your centre, where they settle, where his tongue flicks and teases you so. He has the gall to look up at you amidst your pleasure, and show that cockiness knowing he can make you feel this good. Before at each hint of you getting close to release he slows down or pulls away entirely, but then finally when you struggle against that hold on your hips, when you wrap your legs draped over his shoulder and cross your ankles, your moans turn into whines and you all but beg for release, that’s when he finally gives it to you and leaves you wholly breathless. He lets you ride out the waves of pleasure until the built up tension fades, and your breathing calms. Only then does he pull away slowly. He would have let you settle, before he would extract another orgasm from you, and another, but you have something else in mind and who is he to refuse to you these demands. You unwrap your legs from him, make him rise. 

“Take it off. Now.” You demand winded. He laughs, but you grasp the lapel and pull him closer against you, wrap your legs around his hips and grind yours into him. To no surprise you feel his presence, feel the self restraint he’s been holding onto for your own pleasure and you seek to destroy that restraint. 

“As you wish.” He begins undoing the buttons of his jacket but goes too slow according to you because before he knows it you’re helping him discard the garment as well as the shirt beneath. Electricity sparks through his body when he feels but the faintest brush of your fingers against his abdomen when pulling the garment over his head. He knows it’s intentional simply by the look you give him and so in turn, whatever scraps may have been covering you, he tears away, leaving you truly exposed to the cold air. You undo the closures of his trousers and pull him free; revenge, as you wrap your fingers around him and give a slow stroke. You place your hands on his shoulders after he casts aside the final constraining fabrics leaving you both completely and utterly bare. You feel him press against your entrance, the sensation alone extracting a gasp, eyes shooting to his in ecstasy and wanton. 

“Fuck me.” Another order and one he would oblige, pushing his hips forward. A court embarrassed. A mating ceremony completed and now the celebration of this union between the two of you. You were meant for each other. 

[whiteravengreywolf]

Big Iron - a Wolfwren fanfiction

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm back with a new multichapter story, this time it's a cowboy AU! Here is the beginning, and if you want to read the whole first chapter, the link will be at the end!

Sabine wiggled in her saddle as she struggled to find a comfortable position. She had been cleared by the doctor back in Lothal but that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel any pain anymore. The knife wound in her abdomen flared up every so often, especially after a long day on horseback. That was also why she rode behind Bo-Katan, so her partner didn’t notice that she was uncomfortable. And anyway, they were almost at Nevarro.

The city’s entrance was marked by a rectangular arch. In the letter Bo-Katan had received, they had been instructed to cross the town then follow the road into the mountains. Sabine didn’t know what to expect out of Nevarro. The town seemed animated enough, with people going about their business on either side of their horses. She spotted a group of children rushing out of the school. She heard the sharp ringing of a hammer falling on metal coming from the direction of the blacksmith. Jolly music echoed out of the bar. It seemed a typical mountain town, with ranches spread out all around it.

A notice board by the sheriff’s office caught Sabine’s attention. She recognized most of the wanted posters on there. Once upon a time, she would have gone hunting for one. But since the accident – Bo called it an accident; Sabine thought it was just the risk that came with the job – they hadn’t taken a single job. Right there in the middle was the wanted poster for the White Wolf. She had been this close to getting them too, she thought bitterly as her horse walked on by.

They left the town and Bo took a right, up into the mountains. They trotted past fences. Wine seemed to be a prominent Nevarro business, if all the vines were anything to go by. Each vine had been grown in the same T shape, all side by side, so they looked like rows of dancers holding hands.

Sabine and Bo climbed higher still, until they reached a plateau, the entrance of which was marked by an arch. Mudhorn Range was written on top. The ranch was made up of large pastures for the horses, a stable some ways away from the main house, which sat in the center, at the end of the dirt road. Beside it was the barracks for the stable hands.

They approached the main house. It was one-story, rather small for a ranch home, with a porch shadowing the front door. A little pond sat near it. When the two bounty hunters arrived, a little boy stepped away from the pond. His face was shadowed by a hat so big it looked like he had huge pointed ears. He was holding a little frog he had probably found in the pond, as the amphibian struggled to jump out of his grasp.

Bo-Katan climbed off her horse and turned to the boy.

“Your father’s here?” she asked.

“Da,” the boy yelled.

[dragongirl028]

Take To the Skies

Holy shit! My first fanfic on Tumblr!? And it’s Onyx Equinox related!? You bet it is, and YOU BET IT IS!!! (Heh, heh ... bet? Get it!?)

Word count: 1521 (😨)

“I love you, Izel.  It’s okay.  Be br—”

Before she could finish her words of reassurance, a warm feeling instantly emanated from her throat and quickly flowed down her chest as a profuse stream of blood ran down from where the obsidian knife slashed across her neck.  No pain, no haunting gurgling; just darkness and an almost complete silence, were it not for the light breeze blowing west and the steady drops of blood pooling between her feet.  Seconds ago, she was standing; as the supportive hand of the priest drew away, Nelli’s body fell backwards, and her descent down the cenote began.  Her headdress, with its elegant streams of quetzal feathers dancing wildly as she fell, soon came off of her head entirely just before her body made contact with the groundwater in a loud splash echoing throughout the sinkhole.  From a fast-paced descent to a slow, cradling slump, Nelli’s body unhurriedly lowers towards the large, glowing gate to the Underworld hidden deep within the cenote’s waters.

A bright flash of white shines as Nelli’s body crosses the gate.  Seconds later, she finds herself seemingly alive, standing on the edge of a dense jungle.  Ahead of her is a small, yet foreboding range of limestone mountains, the sun’s rays shining behind them just as they were as the star ascended in the mere final minutes Nelli had in Uxmal.  The ground ahead of her is reminiscent of xeric shrubland, occasionally dotted with palo verde trees colored with their typical yellow-orange flowers.  She looks down upon herself—the elaborate sacrificial attire no longer drenched in her own blood; her feet, hands, collarbone, and parts of her face still painted in bright Mayan blue; her headdress firmly in place atop her head.

“What is going—”

A gust of wind blows behind her.  Nelli braces herself momentarily, closing her eyes before they snap open at the sound of a loud roar coming from above.  She can only stand in awe as her eyes widen upon seeing an enormous teal and red serpentine-like creature weave though the sky, its flowing scarlet mane of fur-like feathers trailing along its back as the creature flies to the peak of the tallest mountain centered among the range.  One thing comes after another, and a large flock of macaws emerge from the jungle and fly above Nelli, calling as they too, fly towards the mountain range, some scattering to different peaks, while others make a beeline towards the centermost peak.  The wind settles slightly, and after a momentary pause to collect what she just witnessed, Nelli finds herself staring at the most prominent peak of the mountain range, entranced.  Wordlessly, she finds herself walking towards the peak, almost as if something is drawing her in.  As she moves, an occasional rattlesnake either retreats into its burrow, or silently gazes as she walks by.  Passing by a tree every once in a while, butterflies flit around the flowers, some coming close to her face, to which she smiles warmly.  Eventually, she finds herself at the base of the mountain, and a smooth, almost frequently treaded path weaves its way up the peak.  Wordlessly, she begins her ascent.  Nelli takes her time climbing, and despite the growing elevation, she doesn’t find herself needing to catch her breath or take a momentary pause.

Many hours pass, but eventually, Nelli reaches the summit.  She gazes at the horizon from which her journey began, the jungle’s green expanse contrasting with the somewhat drab shrubland sandwiched between it and the mountain range.

“Well … I’m glad to see you’ve finally arrived.”

At this, Nelli turns around and widens her eyes.  Sitting upon a marble throne—painted in a range of red and green paints, armrests stylized as feathered serpent heads, and a top adorned in intricately carved marble quetzal feathers—is Quetzalcoatl.  Appearing in his King Form, he resembles a youth with white hair and yellow eyes, wearing an ornate headdress and red beak mask.  Yellow face paint runs vertically down his face surrounding his eyes, a bisected conch shell hangs against his chest, and his shoulders are covered by a green serpent, whose body trails down the god’s back into a train of dark green feathers.  Resting on his left hand is a macaw casually preening itself, which the god lightly moves to one of the trees bordering his throne, raising his hand high enough for the tropical bird to reach.

“I must say, you look elegant.  Then again, a noble and willing sacrifice such as yourself deserves especially ornate attire.”

“Quetzalcoatl!” Nelli exclaims before quickly but respectfully bowing on her knees.  The god chuckles slightly.

“Now, now … no need to be so formal.  You can stand.”

Nelli hesitates for a moment before slowly rising back to her feet.

“You chose me?” Nelli inquires.

“Are you surprised?  Why, I figured your attire would give you as much of a hint.  Your willingness to sacrifice yourself in place of your brother was an incredibly noble act.  Not just any god could take such a willing sacrifice.”

“But you’re opposed to human sacrifice.  Why would you want me?”

At this, Quetzalcoatl pauses momentarily, staring intently at Nelli.

“… Because I need your assistance to help me save humanity.”

Nelli’s eyes widen slightly and her mouth drops open a bit.

“… What?”

“I’m sure you heard about what happened at Dani Baán.”

Quetzalcoatl pauses for a moment and chuckles slightly.

“Well, of course you did.  Otherwise, why would you have been sacrificed, besides taking the place of your brother?  Anyway, Mictlantechutli shamelessly began a holy war by abducting Dani Baán due to the ongoing blood drought; though, I know this isn’t the only reason for the destruction of the city.  In due time, I shall tell you what I know.”

Nelli furrows her brow slightly, but continues listening intently.

“Tezcatlipoca believes the constant wars and infighting taking place among humanity have spilled wasted blood which could otherwise feed us gods.  He intends on starting the world anew at the equinox.  I believe your kind is worth preserving.  So, I have chosen your brother to close the five gates of the Underworld.”

“Izel?  But he’s never fought anyone, let alone traveled great distances without me.  How is he even supposed to find the gates to the Underworld!?  And even if he does find them, can he even do this—close five gates and save humanity—on his own!?”

“Oh, he’ll have help, I assure you.  Nobody can do this alone, not even a god.  I have bigger plans for him besides closing the gates, which I will also divulge to you in due time.  However, I can’t keep watching over my champion, lest I catch Tezcatlipoca’s attention.  This is where you come in:  I need you to follow Izel on his journey and report back to me whenever you can.  You can … nudge him along a few times as needed; otherwise, you must maintain a fair distance from him, and don’t intervene or interfere in any way.  Or else, Tezcatlipoca will take notice.”

Nelli looks down at the ground in front of her before speaking.

“Izel has always been rather fearful.  I don’t doubt that—even with help—he’s going to be afraid and unsure of himself.  But if you truly think he’s the one who will save humanity … and from what I’ve seen when I’ve encouraged him to persevere … I think this journey will mature him.  Whether or not he succeeds, he’ll be remembered by the gods, and perhaps our descendants, through legend.”

At this, Nelli looks up at Quetzalcoatl with a stern, yet determined expression on her face.

“I’ll help you, Quetzalcoatl.”

Underneath his mask, Quetzalcoatl smiles.

“But … how am I supposed to follow Izel and report back to you?”

“I expect you … to fly.”

At this, Quetzalcoatl rises from his throne and a gust of wind blows from behind him to the west.  Various dark green feathers from the long train behind him fly towards Nelli before spinning around, enveloping her completely.  Small rays of cyan light penetrate through the spinning mass of feathers, which distorts into a large ball floating towards Quetzalcoatl, who now has his right arm outstretched.  Finally, the mass of feathers disappears and the wind dies down, revealing a medium-sized heron with white feathers, black legs, and cyan eyes, perched on Quetzalcoatl’s arm.

“Not only will you be able to fly, but you’ll be able to travel great distances instantaneously with my power in order to reach me.  You should be proud, Nelli.” Quetzalcoatl praises while looking ahead to the now setting sun.

“Not only will you watch history be made, but you will see your humble brother ascend to eminence in more ways than one.  Now, go, follow him, take to the skies.”

At this, Nelli flaps her wings once and rises before taking off in the direction of the sun.  Quetzalcoatl lowers his arm and simply watches in silence as his emissary flies further west before disappearing in a flash of light—her duty having just begun.

[musclesaber]

The Quest for Size

Part 1: From Small Beginnings

[Story Gallery] [Next Part] [Latest Part]

Daladon was on his way home from one of the worst days he’s ever had when he stumbled upon a cart vendor with potions, clothes, and other goods. Daladon is in for a surprise when he meets the owner of the shop and see’s what some of these goods are capable of.

The bell rang through the halls of the Marian Smith factory as Daladon Pentorn breathed a sigh of relief that the day had finally ended. “Freedom at last,” exhaled the exhausted human. Standing up from his desk, he grabbed his worker’s jacket and headed to the door, “I thought today would never end.” He pushed his way past many factory workers that out sized him, but he ducked and squeezed through the big muscular men in the crowd making his way outside. Walking towards the town square as the sunset painted the sky around him, Daladon rubbed his eyes as the lanterns in town began to light up.

“Dal! Wait up!” called a large half-orc stumbling out of the factory. Daladon turned his head and saw his friend Brucelog Gondar running towards him. The 6’3 half-orc had plenty of muscle packed onto his frame, and a sizable midsection poking out from below his white undershirt. 

“Go away Bruce. I’m not in the mood tonig-HEY!” Daladon was caught off guard as Bruce grabbed his torso and hoisted Daladon up onto his shoulders. “Bruce, put me down! Today sucked and I just want to go home.”

“I’m just your giant transport service. We’re going out. We need some drinks after today,” said Bruce as he sauntered off into town with his smaller friend on his shoulders. “And I already heard what happened. My dad let me in on everything. He told me that you might’ve misread a measurement on a giant’s breast plate and now we have to waste a lot of metal remaking it,” said Bruce as he turned right towards the local tavern, Triple B’s. 

“One, you’re not a giant so stop carrying me around. Two, I’m not in the mood to go out tonight. And three, that 8 looked like a 9,” said Daladon as he steadied himself on his new elevated position. 

“While I agree with you Dal that it did look like a nine, 80 feet long and 90 feet long makes a BIG difference in what we’re building.” Daladon grimaced a bit and sat back on his friend's broad shoulders as they rounded the corner.

“At least take me home and let me change. I don’t want to go out in my work clothes,” said Daladon as he pulled his friend’s black hair.

“Ouch, fine. I’ll put you down. But you’d better come back out. No “Oh I’m tired and wanna be alone” crap. Come be with your friends. Kimlen even said he’d come out tonight. Plus Jaren and Siv told me that there’s a private party in the back room that they can get us into.” Bruce grabbed Daladon’s hips and put him down at the entrance to the tavern. “I’d better be seeing you soon,” stated Bruce as the tall half-orc walked through the wide double doors.

Daladon looked into the tavern at the candle lights inside, lighting up with energy and the sound of coins clinking against wood faded away as he turned towards a shortcut home. Daladon sat with his thoughts as he walked back behind a few houses with their lights off. Making his way to a dirt path back to his house. Most people were already home in bed at this hour, but his boss made him stay until the final bell of the workday rang due to his performance today. He gazed out onto the mountains on the edge of town and he saw a few torch lights moving up the steep ridges. Despite being many miles away, Daladon could see every subtle move the giant climbing the mountain side made. It helped when the torch the giant was carrying was a tree he plucked from the Earth.

As he locked eyes with the flame quickly disappearing over the peak of the mountain in the distance, Daladon’s cheek was met with sharp pain as he ran into the back of a cart. With a loud thud, Daladon hit the ground and rubbed his head. “Damn, where’d this come from?” He sat up and looked at a wooden cart blocking his path home. Daladon stumbled up to his feet and walked to the other side of the cart to where a sales window sat. “Hey buddy, you’re not allowed to park carts on these paths,” said Daladon as he looked inside the window. But much to his surprise, it was completely abandoned. Only a few crates scattered here and there on the floor with dust collecting.

“Sorry about that!” called a voice from back where Daladon came. “I’m right here. Sorry, I just put my cart there for a second so I could find where I needed to set up shop. ” Daladon sighed then started walking out to the side of the cart where the voice was coming from. 

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t paying attention to wher-” Daladon stopped immediately in his tracks and stared at a massive man bounding towards him. Not only was he probably 20 feet tall, he looked as big as a whale with how much fat was on him. His tight blue shirt exaggerated every jiggle and jostle his belly made as he screeched to a stop in front of Daladon.

“Yeah, but still, I am parked illegally. I’m a bit turned around. I just got here a few minutes ago and I am already lost,” said the giant as he casually picked up the cart and hoisted it onto his shoulders like it was nothing. “Hi, I’m Sam, the Sizemologist,” said the giant with a smile as he threw his cart like a hammer throw towards Triple B’s. With a light bounce off the ground, the cart landed perfectly next to the tavern. “Bullseye.”

“You’re a- a- a-” stuttered Daladon as he looked up and up at Sam as his belly eclipsed most of his view.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Forgot this far away from the city, you don’t see many people like me.” The big man waved his hand a bit and suddenly his size started to diminish away. His belly receded into his clothes as his bright blue shirt stayed taut against him. Sam’s face came more into Daladon’s view as he shrunk down in height as well. His elven features became more and more apparent as the fat drained away. His platinum blonde hair stuck out of his hat and curled around his pointy ears as he stopped shrinking himself. Landing at about 6 feet tall with a nice beer gut on him. “And before you say it, no I’m not a giant or a gainer.” Sam walked past Daladon whose face was still frozen with excitement, lust, and fear all at once.

“But you were just like 50 feet tall or something. And had a belly bigger than my whole body,” said Daladon as he turned to see Sam walk back towards his cart.

“I don’t get my size like most people around here do,” said Sam as he gestured Daladon to his side. “But I am sorry that you hit my cart. I didn’t think I had parked it anywhere that might get hit by someone. But I guess this is a chance for you to see my stock. Here, why don’t you come in and I can show you what I got. Maybe even get you a drink on me,” said Sam as he disappeared and walked behind the cart.

“Thanks uh Sam was it? But I really do need to get going. I promised my friends I’d meet them out at Triple B’s after I went home and changed. And I really need to feed my chinchillape. He’s been home all day,” said Daladon as he resumed walking along the path towards his house.

“No no no, come in. I insist. Besides, I’m working Triple B’s tonight. I can give you something to wear so you won’t be late. It’s just like you took a bit of a detour. And now your chinchillape will be fed and thinks you’re there with him now,” said Sam with a snap as he quickly walked back to Daladon and put his arm around his shoulder, ushering him behind the cart. “And I might just have something in my shop that you’ll absolutely love.” Even at his shrunken size, Sam easily pushed the 5’5 skinny Daladon into the cart. 

When Daladon stepped up into the cart, he was apprehensive about going in since the cart didn’t even look big enough to fit Sam’s belly alone inside. But to his surprise, he walked into a room almost bigger than his own tiny home. “Woah, this place is massive.” The ceilings were 20 feet high above his head and there were shelves full of boxes all around them. 

“Sorry about the mess. I packed up my shop in a bit of a rush earlier so I haven’t had much time to make things look nice,” said Sam as he shut the door behind Daladon. A snap rang through the room and suddenly, the boxes vanished and were replaced with bright shiny jars with various colorful liquids sloshing around inside. Daladon’s eyes lit up with amazement as the room went from an empty warehouse to a lively storefront. Lights began to string along the shelves connecting them as signs fell down from the ceiling reading Eat Me and Does This Make Me Look Big?.

“So, are you some kind of magician or something?” asked Daladon as he walked forward and browsed the shelves. 

“A sorcerer actually. And a pretty good one at that,” said Sam as his smaller, but still substantially sized belly pushed into Daladon’s back as he walked by. “But that’s only a side hustle to my true love. Alchemy.” Sam grabbed a couple of glass bottles off the top of a shelf and an empty glass jar. Daladon looked at the big man now walking behind a bar and watched intrigued as he poured orange and green liquids into the jar. 

“Aren’t all the sorcerers supposed to be in Sizeopolis? I didn’t know y’all were allowed to leave.” Daladon wandered around the big room as the brown mixture changed colors to a dark purple in Sam’s hand. 

“Most of us train there, but we aren’t required to stay,” said Sam as he sprinkled little green flecks down onto the drink. “After we complete our apprenticeship, we’re free to travel the world spreading size and magic to everyone. Or at least that’s what the administration says we should do. But many do stay in Sizeopolis after they graduate for all the jobs they offer magic users there.” Sam stirred the mixture as the specs of green dissolved and the mixture turned white.

Daladon continued to look around the shop in amazement at all of the different items that must be magical. A jewelry section lined with necklaces and earrings with beautiful crystals sprouting from them. Plenty of rings on display varying in size from a normal sized ring to a hula hoop sized one. “Do you get a lot of giants buying wedding rings in your shop?” asked Daladon. 

“Uh…sure,” said Sam as he garnished the drink with a pink flower. Sliding it towards the edge of the bar, he grabbed a bottle with a blue liquid out from behind the bar with his other hand. “I have one funergy drink for…sorry, I just realized I never got your name.”

“My name is Daladon. Daladon Pentorn,” said Daladon as he walked away from a purple silk nightgown shimmering in the lights.

“Nice to meet you Daladon. Consider this one on the house as an “I'm sorry for parking my cart somewhere I wasn’t supposed to” apology drink.” Daladon grabbed the glass from the bar and took a sip. 

“Mmm, this is delicious!” Daladon put the glass to his lips and started to drink up the white liquid until the glass was empty. “What was that stuff?”

“A funergy drink. It doesn’t take magic for me to tell that you’re beating yourself up about something,” said Sam as he waddled around the back of the bar. “Sit a spell. Tell Big Sammy about your troubles URP!” Sam let out a belch before taking another swig of his drink and keeping the bottle in his mouth so he could grab a few crates out from under the bar. 

“It’s just work. I work at the Marian Smith factory in Grimford and I hate my damn job. I don’t like it, I’m not good at it, nobody there thinks I'm right for the position, it’s just a terrible set of circumstances,” said Daladon as he sat down at the bar. Running his hands through his short dirty blonde hair.

“From what I’ve heard, Marian Smith factories change drastically depending on what managers you have. Maybe you could go to a different location,” said Sam as he downed the last bit of his bottle. 

“I would, but I don’t like the work. I don’t want to be a factory foreman for the rest of my life.”

“Then quit. Sounds like you’ll be a lot happier for it. And you won’t need a funergy drink to get you to go out with your friends.” Sam started unboxing the crates to reveal large jugs labeled Big Dick Energy with a cartoonish twink holding a bottle up against his impressive bulge packed tightly into a cyan colored speedo. 

“I can’t. The job pays too well for me to leave. Especially in this economy,” said Daladon as he massaged the back of his sore neck. “Besides, businesses are shutting down left and right around here. It’s not like there’s a good option to go to if I do quit.”

“You could always be a traveling salesman. I’ve found it’s not a boring job in the slightest.” Sam grabbed another crate and unloaded some more jugs. This time labeled Big Ass Energy with a similar twink now turned to the side the bottle perched on his huge ass in a speedo. 

“Yeah, but I’m not a powerful wizard from the big city who can conjure size from nothing,” said Daladon. He picked up one of the jugs and started to read the small print on the back. 

“I’m a Sorcerer. There is a difference. Wizards are very cliquey and kind of snotty.” Sam grabbed a final crate and unloaded another set of jugs labeled Big Bara Energy with the same twink on the bottle now looking like a twunk with his big bicep balancing a bottle on it. “And I can’t conjure size from nothing. Like I said before, I’m not a giant or a gainer. I use magic to change my size.”

“What’s the difference? All I know is you were like 10 times my size and shrank right in front of me to a normal size. I assume you can grow to that size again if you wanted to. So if it looks like a giant, it is the size of a giant, I’m gonna say you’re a giant Sam.” Sam rolled his eyes a little as he set all of the jugs down on the edge of the bar. 

“I mean yes, I was the size of a giant, but I don’t belong to the giants. I can’t just grow or shrink my height because I want to. I have to focus on a spell to shrink me down.”

“But you didn’t say anything before. You just shrank.”

“That’s just because that small of size manipulation can be done with a simple flick of the wrist.”

“That’s a small spell? But you were so big.”

“I wasn’t THAT big. At least not compared to the giants I’ve seen in Hitclo or Sizeopolis.”

“It’s clear you don’t get out around these parts often. We don’t have any giants in Grimford. Or at least any that stay in town for long. Most shrink down to get their deliveries and are off back to Hitclo or wherever they’re going. The tallest guy that stays in town is my friend Jaren and he’s 7’6,” said Daladon as he started to twist the top off of the bottle of Big Ass Energy before getting swatted by Sam. 

“No drinking these. These are for a private party,” said Sam as he placed a final jug on the bar. “You probably want to set that down by the way. And maybe stand back.” Daladon frantically put the jug next to the others and got up from his bar stool as Sam began to circle his arms over the jugs. “Animatré grandonta meriandé! Animatré grandonta meriandé!” Sam started to chant and Daladon saw yellow sparks forming on Sam’s finger tips before cinders fell down onto the jugs below. 

Daladon braced himself and rushed behind a display of cakes, cookies, and muffins that read Eat Me in icing on them. When Sam stopped chanting, Daladon watched and waited for something to happen. “You didn’t have to step back like that. Nothing’s gonna explode. Not yet at least,” chuckled Sam. Daladon emerged from his hiding spot looking intently at the jugs. Walking back, Daladon could tell something was different about them, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“A big light show for better booze for the guests?”

“Give it a second. Just watch.” Sam smiled and turned one of the jugs to face Daladon. Looking closer, Daladon saw the twink on the jug now waving at him. 

“Awe, that’s cute,” said Daladon as he waved back to the tiny label twink. The twink then grabbed the sides of the label and pulled himself out of it. Daladon’s eyes nearly gouged out of his head as he saw more little men jumping out of all the big jugs and onto the floor. “Well would you look at that. Finally, someone who’s shorter than me,” said Daladon with a satisfied smirk on his face, staring down at the little men that were maybe 8 inches tall. 

“Wanna bet?” chuckled Sam again as he peered over the counter at the 12 little men standing on the ground. “Come on guys. Up and at ‘em.” The twinks all looked at each other and smiled as each one began to grow. Looking down at the twinks, Daladon stared in shock as the twinks that couldn't even reach his knees were now growing up to his waistline.

“They get bigger too?” asked Daladon as the twinks swelled up higher and higher. Now level with Daladon’s nipples.

“Indeed they do. And you haven’t even seen the best part,” said Sam as the twinks continued to grow. Each one fighting for space near the bar as their bodies expanded up to Daladon’s neckline. Daladon stepped back as they reached his height and didn't stop getting taller. The room was getting more and more cramped by the second as 12 large men started to crowd around the bar. Growing up and up and up until settling at 6’8 towering over Daladon. 

“Well, I guess I’m the shortest again. That didn’t last long,” sighed Daladon as he admired the big men in their very tight speedos. 

“And we’re gonna be specific tonight boys so get your best assets ready.” All of the men let out some moans as their bodies started to change again. Daladon looked at all the men surrounding him and realized what Sam meant by assets. Each man started growing differently depending on which bottle they came from. The Big Dick Energy twinks’ speedos started to stretch as their cocks elongated in them. The dick print became more and more prominent until the sides were bowing forward to accommodate the growing python and two orange sized balls under it.

Looking at some of the others, one of them was getting pumped full of muscle as his toned swimmer’s body blew up to bodybuilder levels of big. His pecs inflated out towards Daladon’s face. His biceps were getting pushed away from his torso because of their massive size. His legs got separated as his quads swelled into each other. A row of abs appearing right above the defined 6-pack that already was there. He was turning into a mass monster.

“Excellent guys. You all look fantastic. Now head in there and you’ll meet, oh what was his name, hold on.” Sam ruffled through a few stacks of paper behind the bar as Daladon gawked at the sexy men around him. “Ah ha! Found it. Go find a guy named Siv Drucian. He’ll help you guys get set up.” The boys all nodded at Sam and then started walking past Daladon going to other parts of the shop to get various bottles and cases of potions. Their big bulging bodies bumped into him as they walked past. Especially the ones whose hips had widened. Daladon turned his neck to watch an ass with cheeks the size of basketballs walk by and he was practically drooling over him. Their speedos looked more like thongs with how much strain they were putting on them. 

“Wow, they’re gonna be serving us at that private party at Triple B’s? I think I’m now much more willing to go out tonight,” said Daladon as he stared at the big men sauntering out of the shop. 

“No, that's just the funergy kicking in,” said Sam. “Oh and Ricardo, see me before the event starts for the specialty drinks tonight.” One of the hunks on his way out waved at Sam and ducked out the door.

“So will those guys be selling your potions tonight?” asked Daladon, retaking his seat at the bar with a noticeable bulge at attention in his pants. 

“Indeed they will. They’ll be your cock and tail waiters tonight ready to give out some specialty potions requested by our employer. And if you think that they’re great now, you should see them when we’re hired as performers,” said Sam as the last one squeezed his wide hips out the door and shut it behind him. 

“Damn. Now I wanna tell my friend not to perform tonight so I can watch them.” 

“Your friend is working this party?” asked Sam as he looked up from collecting more bottles of potions. 

“A couple of them actually. Siv, the guy your boys are meeting, he’s one of my friends. Love that guy.”

“He’s the one performing?”

“No, he’s just the bartender. My friend Jaren is the one performing.”

“Oh yes, the giant boy. Well knowing who we’re serving tonight, I’m sure they’ll love a guy that big,” said Sam as he walked out from the bar. “And if your bartender friend needs any help with the drinks, I can make just about anything. And what I can’t make, I can conjure. Now I do believe I also told you I’d get you something to wear for tonight.” Sam wiggled his fingers and the sign that read Does This Make Me Look Big? lit up. 

“I don’t know Sam. I don’t really have the size to call anything about me big,” said Daladon, looking down at his fairly average body.

“Nonsense. Anything can be big. You might feel small right now, but I’ve met men that live life at a fraction of your size. As well as men who live life bigger than entire planets.” Sam pat Daladon on the back and led him through the shop. “But maybe I could give you a little bit of an upgrade if that funergy drink didn’t get you one hundred percent ready for tonight.” Reams of fabric started flying off the walls into Sam’s hands as he occasionally muttered something to himself. “Now what size do you want?” 

“Well I wear a small shirt and have about a-“

“I didn’t ask what size do you wear, I asked what size do you want?” Daladon stopped in his tracks once Sam sat down at a sewing station. 

“You could make me bigger?”

“That’s what I do. It’s what I LIVE for. Now tell me, what kind of body do you want to have tonight?” Sam started cutting bright blue fabric and mumbling things under his breath again. 

“Um, I don’t know. I definitely could be taller. Maybe a bit of muscle, but not like aggressive muscles. A bit of fat is fine. Ooo actually a belly would be nice. Maybe not one as big as yours though.” Daladon paced behind Sam and continued to ramble off parameters for what he wanted his body to be.

“I’ve got limited fabric here so I can’t do all of that, but I think I’ve got a good snapshot of what you want.” Bright blue fabric started to unfurl around them and sewing needles flew through the air. Sam’s muttering began to get louder and louder into a full blown chant. “Exeto incantrabe god petsha yunn marcotauph!” Sam shouted aggressively and raised his arms into the air again. Scissors started slicing through fabric followed by needles threading in and out, connecting everything together. Daladon watched in disbelief as reams of fabric spun around them creating a vortex. But Daladon’s smile began to fade when a blue singlet formed before his very eyes with a weird patch of yellow fabric on the left pec.

“A singlet? Really? Sure, you’ve got your cock and tail waiters that look like they’re models in Sizeopolis, but I don’t think that’s my style Sam.” Daladon walked to put his hand on Sam’s back on the chair while the singlet floated down. 

“The magic you have to say with words takes a second. Here, go try it on and then tell me if you got anything like it at home.” Sam sat up and handed Daladon the singlet. 

“It does look like you got the measurements right,” said Daladon as he held it up to his body. 

“Trust me. I always get the measurements right.” Daladon turned to go to the dressing room where he slid the curtain shut and started undressing from his work clothes. Daladon held the singlet up to him once he was just wearing his underwear. After taking a deep breath, Daladon brought the singlet down to put his legs in. Pulling the singlet up and pushing his arms through the holes, Daladon looked at himself in the mirror. 

“Maybe a little tight,” said Daladon as he tugged the straps up to be perched on his traps. 

“Give it a second!” shouted Sam as the yellow patch on Daladon’s left pec began to shine. Daladon let out a small moan as a shiver ran through his body. He felt his cock immediately start twitching as a warmth flooded his system. 

Daladon’s body began to expand with size. It was very small and unnoticeable at first, but Daladon could feel the sides of the singlet digging into him a bit. Looking down at himself, he saw his pecs blowing up under the blue fabric. Daladon couldn’t help but grope his chest and feel the muscle that was forming on his chest. The straps dug into his shoulders as his traps and neck thickened. He looked to his side and saw the strap of the singlet extending out into a sleeve around his growing arms. As the sleeves formed, he could feel his biceps pushing back against the fabric as they swelled with size. 

Daladon was pulled away by a new sensation. The fabric around his crotch was getting tighter and tighter. He could feel his dick fighting for space in the singlet as the underwear inside snapped. Unable to hang on due to his widening hips. Daladon moaned again, his cock now free to surge up in size. He looked down at his remarkable bulge he sported now. Pulsing with life, the beast swelled bigger and bigger with every heartbeat. Extending out to 10 inches long with balls as big as eggs and still growing. He also saw the fabric around his legs receding into the singlet. Cutting itself off to look like booty shorts, strangling his massive quads inside them. The last of his underwear sliding down the pant leg in tatters on the floor.

Turning to the side and looking in the mirror in front of him, Daladon got a great view of his dump truck ass. Grabbing the big cheek, it felt heavy as he shook it. He couldn’t help but feel himself get hard over how huge he was getting. He smacked his ass and practically moaned when he saw the ripples cascading along the fabric. He stopped admiring himself as the singlet’s fabric started to recede again. This time it moved upwards from his waist, exposing his belly button that started to swell out in front of him. His once flat stomach rounding out as he heard a gurgle emit from his belly. He reached down to pat his swelling orb of a belly and ran his hands along it. Feeling how expansive it was. The fabric stopped just under his textbook sized pecs as the yellow patch of fabric started to fold and morph into an S symbol. And it wasn’t just an ordinary S on the outfit, it sported a curled bicep on the top right tail, a couple of moobs followed by a heavy belly as the curve on the left side, a perfectly round belly on the right curve, and a massive cock as the bottom tail of the S.

“Woah,” said Daladon. He couldn’t believe the sight before him. He stood there looking like he was out of his own wet dream. Not only had the singlet made him bigger, it also had heightened his other features. He now sported a nice square jaw line as well as bright blonde styled hair. The singlet itself had morphed into a top that covered Daladon’s chest with long sleeves on his arms that had holes over where the peak of his bowling ball sized biceps were. He could barely see the booty shorts he was wearing below his pecs and belly, but looking in the mirror, they left nothing to the imagination. The blue fabric accentuated his cock and balls perfectly. Making them look absolutely stuffed in the shorts. And after seeing how much size he got in his ass, he guessed the entire outfit was fighting for dear life to contain his size. 

“Well don’t leave me in suspense! Come out!” called a giddy Sam. Daladon turned and walked out of the dressing room to see Sam smiling up at him. “Damn I’m good,” mused Sam as he let out a whistle looking Daladon up and down. 

Daladon’s already big smile grew even bigger as he realized he’d grown taller too. Before, he was eye level with Sam’s pecs, but now Sam was eye level with Daladon’s. “This is incredible! Thank you, thank you, thank you Sam!” shouted Daladon. Running up to Sam and crouching down to give the big man a hug only to hoist him up into the air with glee. 

“You’re welcome, big guy. Now, go have fun with your friends. Enjoy your night,” said Sam as Daladon released him from his tight grip. 

“I’ll be sure to tell my friends to tip your boys well tonight,” said Daladon as his heavy footfalls shook the whole shop. 

“Don’t worry about it. We’re already getting paid handsomely by whoever’s throwing this party. But I’ll see you in there.” Sam winked at Daladon and Daladon threw the door to the shop open and ducked out of the shop, but not before squeezing his hips out. Smiling to himself, Sam turned and waddled back to the bar and began making drinks for tonight. 

[leon-swedfinqs]

Beautiful Eyes , Shielded and Guarded

Warnings: mentions of arachnids (nothing crazy happens here)

On a mission, Aziraphale finally gets to see what his travel partner has been hiding behind those glasses.

"Okay, so based on this request, there is a, uhhh....'A grand treasure of immense value that has been in my family for thousands of years. It is stored in a guarded vault hidden in the back of the Craven Mountain range's tunnel system'," Crowley read aloud as he held the paper slip close to his face. "Oh, there's a P.S. written at the bottom. 'P.S. There are a lot of arachnid monsters living in the cave. They are harmless'. Harmless my ass," he scoffed.

The two were currently standing at the entrance to said cave system, its opening a gaping hole surrounded by moss-covered stalagmites. It had taken them a day to travel up the mountain from the village they have claimed as their 'homebase', and this request was one of their first direct orders under their new "adventurers for hire" shtick. The request offered a reward of up to two hundred gold pieces each for the safe return of the familial relic. However, there was the footnote of 10 gp removal for every dent and scratch they found on the item (whether or not they made the marks or not).

"Oh my..." Aziraphale hummed as he looked down the cave. "I was expecting this to be lit, considering that historically this cave system was used for mining minerals. I didn't bring any torches, we'll both get lost," he sighed. "N-no matter! I can just lead the way, my halos should emit enough light for us to navigate with no issue."

Crowley rolled his eyes as Aziraphale started to march forward, pretending that he was a beacon. Either he didn't get enough sleep last night and his encyclopedic knowledge wasn't catching up to him, or the cleric simply forgot that he A: has a sword that just seems to catch on fire randomly, and B: he's traveling with a tiefling that has dark vision. For now, he will indulge in this idiocy until his patience runs out and he decides to run forward and find the relic so they can earn their money.

That patience lasted a total of...15 minutes, give or take. The cleric's halos only emitted enough light that the human could see roughly 5 or so feet in front of him, and even then it wasn't a very clear view. The poor bastard kept knocking his feet against rocks or would get incredibly close to walls before eventually turning to a new direction. Honestly? It was downright a bit pathetic, and Crowley was getting a bit tired of his stubbornness.

"Alright, we are going to be here forever," Crowley huffed as he picked up the pace. He easily breezed past Aziraphale, his tail lightly flicking against the cleric's calf. Aziraphale immediately stopped and blinked in surprise.

"Wh-Crowley! Are you crazy? It is dreadfully unsafe to walk into a cave system you can't easily assess! You, you can get lost, or hurt! Or worse!" Aziraphale balked. Crowley snickered as he turned on his heel to face the man.

"Dark vision," he smirked as he tapped his sunglasses. "Tiefling and all. Remember?"

"I-uh-"

Crowley turned on his heel again, shoving one hand in his pants pocket, and the other he used to wave back at the human. "You go ahead though, 'light your heavenly way' and all that, angel. I'll see you there."

"Crowley! Wait!" Aziraphale called out into the darkness, left with only the echoes of the footsteps from the rogue's boots.

Wandering through the cave after that, for Aziraphale, was a bit of a struggle. Every few seconds he would glance over his shoulder, occasionally checking to see if Crowley was somehow behind him again, or was simply waiting for him around a corner and would say something along the lines of: "Oops! My bad angel! I know we have to stick together, it's safer that way, considering there are supposed to be monsters in these caves. Don't want either of us getting dreadfully hurt!". The logical side of the human, however, knew that this wasn't the case, and that he was going to be alone for the time being.

Multiple times, Aziraphale considered giving in and pulling out his sword to act as a torch. However, after the previous mission, he still felt apprehensive to even touch the damn thing, so he kept refusing those thoughts and continued to march forward with manufactured motivation. He studied the map of these caves multiple times the night before in their camp -- due to the fact that these used to be utilized for mining purposes, all of the tunnels eventually convened in the same location so that the workers wouldn't get lost in the maze and accidentally die (from a multitude of different causes).

Just the sudden change in the sound of his footsteps bouncing off the cavernous walls alerted Aziraphale that he had stumbled into central cavern, though something else shifted as he entered—although it was luckily subtle, his nose twinged with the unpleasant scent of dust and ammonia. He coughed back a gag.

Aziraphale instinctively went to turn away, though he paused as a soft glint in the darkness caught his eye. Something just a few feet in front of him had managed to catch the light of his halo and twinkled back. The cleric approached and reached down to retrieve a small silver platter that appeared surprisingly immaculate for the state of the surroundings. No scratches or dings, and strangely it seemed bare of dust. Regardless, Aziraphale smiled as he slipped it into his pack.

Now further into the room, more items seemed to shine back at him in the dark. Aziraphale happily retrieved each like a mouse following a crumb trail. More and more potential money lined his pockets as he found tiaras and vases and candlesticks, all pristine and beautiful. Each piece seemed incredibly sophisticated, though as Aziraphale picked up the latest trinket, he paused. They appeared to be dark and glittering. Onyx stones? No no, as he bent down and got a closer look, he’d instead found a pair of dark spectacles.

Familiar dark spectacles at that.

Aziraphale frowned as he gently picked up the glasses and turned them over in his hand. The shields on the sides, the small silver jewels at the hinges — these were definitely Crowley’s glasses. Folding them carefully, Aziraphale pressed the glasses close to his chest to protect them as he continued to creep forward. If his glasses were haphazardly discarded like this, then the tiefling must be in this room somewhere.

As the cleric carefully stepped through the cavern, the light brought his attention to a strange silhouette a few feet away, seemingly dangling from the ceiling. His mind echoed Crowley’s words from earlier about the “large arachnid monsters” that lurked within the caves, which he was (thankfully) yet to encounter on this endeavor.

Aziraphale instinctively moved to touch the hilt of his sword, though before he retrieved it from his sheath, his fingers clenched and relaxed. After everything, he was still making a conscious effort to avoid using any kind of physical attacks to handle situations, especially those learned back at his home. Not to mention, if he had been cursed to bear the scar of magic, he would follow Ecliel’s divine plan, all the same and only use his blade as a last resort. Not to mention, if there were truly ammonia dowsing, the cave it may be unwise to light a spark lest he char himself. Still, he needed to examine the silhouette and hesitantly he approached with light steps and silent breaths.

Aziraphale prepared himself mentally to be face-to-face with a terrifying creature. Instead he found himself face to, well, upside down face with his dark-sighted travel companion.

Crowley was strung up in layers of enlarged gossamer, such that only his head from the chin up was exposed, and the rest of his body was strung up securely. His face looked red, no doubt from all the blood rushing downwards in his flipped position. Surprisingly, through all of this, he seem to have found some tranquility—enough to sleep, though his expression was slightly pinched.

As Aziraphale leaned in a bit to investigate and make sure he was unharmed, the dreadful snake let out a loud snore and blew air directly into his face.

Aziraphale rapidly blinked as he was caught off guard. “Oh for goodness sake…”

He seemed fine.

With a huff, the cleric leaned back and lightly slapped Crowley’s face. When the first slap didn’t work he reeled back and slapped a little bit harder. This caused the tiefling to sputter and cough as his eyes flew open and his body jerked, causing him to lightly swing back and forth.

“Gah! Fucking—ow!”

Aziraphale had prepared some kind of snarky quip, maybe something along the lines of “good morning” or “so how did running off on your own go?” But before the words could pass his lips, his entire train of thought seemed to come to a screeching halt.

In the dim space between them, only illuminated by his dual halos, Crowley’s face was illuminated and unobstructed by his usual obsidian shades. He did admittedly find his new companion quite intriguing when they first met and saw that Crowley adamantly refused to take off his sunglasses at all times, but now that Aziraphale saw what his behind the lenses, he was frankly, well…

Enamored.

He was met with the most brilliant yellow eyes that glistened like gems, specks of orange and brown hidden within the iris. The pupils were slits, which curiously made the nickname ‘snake’ that Aziraphale would call Crowley in his head very fitting. They were incredibly unique and downright beautiful. Why would Crowley ever want to hide these?

“Ngk-Ecliel Aziraphale, I can’t fuckin-do you mind??” Crowley hissed as he squinted and tried to swing backwards away. “Can’t you turn those goddamn things down???”

Aziraphale blinked and stepped back, his face turning a bit red in embarrassment. It seemed as if the light emitting from the halos had become brighter as he stared.

“Ah, um…” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Shall I get you down from there?”

[inmyfxith]

Undying Devotion

Pairing: Sully family x f!Omaticaya!reader / Aonung x f!Omaticaya!!reader (mostly at the end)

Warnings: Mention of harm (nothing graphic)

Words: 4k4

-> Requested.

Kneeling behind a bush, your gaze never left the imposing stature of the Hexapede you were trying to chase. Since High Camp, you had followed its tracks, inspecting the ground with great care to detect its footsteps among all those who had trampled this land. You had sniffed the air, letting the breeze blow the few braids that were not held in place at the back of your head, to find his scent. That's when the hunt really started. A chase that brought you alive, a chase that gave you a daily dose of adrenaline during the search, and dopamine once the beast was in your sights. With your father's bow in hand, you moved with the utmost discretion so as not to reveal your presence to the innocently grazing animal. Once you were within range, you strung the bow the way Jake Sully had taught you, elbow up, palm caressing your cheek, gazing straight at the target. After taking a deep breath to adjust your shot, slow your heart and stop your arms from shaking, the arrow shot out and into the neck of the animal, which let out a shrill cry of pain that broke your heart.

Killing living things was never fun for any Na'vi who respected the world around them, but you needed it to live and prosper. Leaping over your bush, you laid your bow on the still cool, wet grass, pulling your hunting knife from its sheath. The beast, which had fallen on its side, was flailing its legs as if trying to escape, shouting to anyone who would listen to come help it. Kneeling beside it, you placed your hand on its head while closing your eyes before thrusting your blade into its heart to put it out of its misery.

In the middle of the forest, you had cut out the skin, the flesh, the entrails to make it easily transportable. Everything usable was wrapped in the large skin that you had just removed and sealed with sinews from other animals, taken from a previous hunt. Although heavy, the hide found its place on your shoulder and, before returning to camp, you made a detour to what remained of the Voice Tree. There, laying the remains of the animal in front of the half-burned tree, you opened your arms, closing your eyes again to let yourself be overwhelmed by the energies that seemed to endure despite the wounds that the place had suffered.

"Great Eywa, mother of all living things, I come before you with gratitude and reverence. I thank you for the abundance of life that surrounds me and sustains me, and I offer my respect and devotion to your wisdom and power. Today, I have hunted and taken the life of one of your creatures, a powerful and noble beast. I ask for forgiveness and understanding, for I know that all life is precious and interconnected in your grand design. I honor this creature and offer its life back to you, to be returned to the cycle of life and death that you have created. I ask that you bless and guide me as I use this gift of life to nourish and sustain myself, and that I always remember the responsibility and respect that comes with taking a life. Great Eywa, may I always be in harmony with your creation and your will." To end your prayer, you placed the heart of the beast at the foot of the tree, in the image of a religious sacrifice before resuming your journey to the refuge of your clan.

Since the return of the skypeople and their new quest to destroy the forest, the Omaticaya had been forced to leave the tree house, falling prey to a threat they could not afford to face directly. So the Olo'eyktan led his people to a more secure and discreet base in the heart of the Hallelujah mountain range. Although this new camp was nothing like the comfort of the tree house, the clan had eventually acclimated to this refuge, making it a new home. Approaching the entrance to the cave, you clicked your tongue in a steady rhythm, announcing to the Na'vi in charge of camp security that you were not an enemy. Seeing you appear from behind the thicket, some of you nodded more respectfully than sincerely. As soon as the shadow of the stone enveloped your face, you found your way back to the hut you shared with your mother, passing the former hut of the Sully family, now occupied by Tarsem. This path had become almost unbearable to take, but it was the shortest way knowing that what you managed to extract from the animal was too heavy to make the journey longer.

You had the impression that the Sullys had left the clan the day before, you remembered the day you heard the news of their departure with great accuracy. The situation was the same, you were returning from hunting and had just dropped off the corpse of a beast in front of their hut when you came upon Tuk organizing her affairs, her eyes glistening with tears. You smiled, imagining that perhaps Neytiri had ended up asking him to sort her toys. Unwittingly, your foot hit a carved wooden figure of the great Leonopteryx, Jake's legendary ikran that looked so much like your own that sometimes when you roamed the skies, some people claimed the last shadow had returned. When she didn't seem to see you, you took the opportunity to surprise her, reaching under her arms to lift her over your head and make her look like she was flying. The little girl, surprised, started to laugh, making a sound more sad than happy.

"What's the matter with you, Tuk Tuk?" You asked, your arms around her waist and your head resting on her shoulder while your knees were on the ground. Tuk rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand before sniffling loudly. She pivoted so that she could easily wrap her arms around your neck and find comfort in the crook of your arms.

"We're going to leave," she said in a trembling voice. Not really understanding what she was getting at, or what she assumed, you looked around until you came upon Kiri carrying a woven basket, presumably to store provisions. You tried to question her silently, but the girl remained silent, almost ashamed to have to tell you the sad truth. The Sullys were preparing to leave the clan. The Sullys were about to leave you.

Sitting in the grass, the breeze caressed your face as you watched Kiri rest before the big departure. As always, her motionless body was surrounded by forest spirits floating around her. Her expression, peaceful, made her face almost childlike. She was so amazingly gentle that it made you want to protect her. And that was what you had always tried to do when other children had made her the focus of their teasing. You had always been close to the Sullys, but especially to her, acting as a big sister, standing in for Neteyam in terms of her protection. Even though you had already been settled for several hours, and the calmness surrounded you, you were already dreading the moment of farewell because, even if Kiri had asked you, it was impossible for you to leave the High Camp, to leave your mother. And, as you put down the carcass of the hunted beast in front of your hut, a simple glance towards the one of the Olo'eyktan made you feel a strange feeling of mourning.

Tears had rolled down your cheeks as you said your goodbyes, which you convinced yourself were just goodbyes.

"Don't cry, we'll see each other soon," Neteyam said as he hugged you, but the truth is that without them you were lost. Without them, your perfect world would fall apart. You missed Lo'ak's jokes, Neteyam's strange wisdom and Tuk's laughter. The Sullys were your family. Your mother was also deeply affected by their departure; Jake and Neytiri had always made it a point to care for her after your father's untimely death. That's why, while she was brooding in your hut, you put your own emotions aside, pretending to live in harmony with yourself to give her a new environment. Besides hunting and fishing, you spent your free time in the human laboratory observing Grace's avatar as you used to do with Kiri. Before she left, she had almost made you promise to take care of her mother, as if you had the right skills to do so. But you thanked her inwardly when, weeks later, as you found yourself straddling Grace's avatar incubator, you heard Norm start to panic. He had probably forgotten you were there because he didn't hide the reason for his behavior for a second.

Drops of sweat were still beading on his forehead as he hurried to gather medical supplies. As you approached the radar that he kept on day and night, the screen displayed a small mound of islands on one of which a small green dot was flashing with coordinates. You didn't know what it was all about, an earthquake, an important discovery, the imminent arrival of the skypeople in the camp. But your questions ended when Max entered the laboratory after having put several avatars to sleep.

"It's Kiri!" Norm threw to him without further context, drawing your attention further.

"What Kiri? Norm, what's going on with Kiri?" You questioned him, leaving the concern that had just arisen in you. The scientist then became aware of your presence and his mistake. Seeing that he didn't answer, you approached him, frowning and taking a threatening look that you would have preferred not to show. Turning back to Max, he told him they had to leave as soon as possible and, before you had a chance to respond, the two men began to gather equipment.

Your instinct controlled your emotions faster than your reason and, returning to your mother's hut, you suddenly began to cry. Your mind was racing with conjecture, imagining that the worst things in the world had happened to your best friend, one of the people who meant the most to you, and you weren't even there for her. Returning from the gathering with a small group of other women, your mother found you kneeling by the semblance of a fire that was still crackling, your eyes filled with tears, and your cheeks pink with the saltiness of the tear fluid. Without waiting, she dropped her basket to join you, taking you almost instantly in her arms and asking you what could be causing you so much grief.

"I failed, Mom," you blurted out, holding back another sob, letting her arms wrap around you and finding a protection that normally only you could provide. She stroked your hair, rocking you gently, waiting for you to tell her more.

"I failed," you repeated before you realized what you were doing. Of course your mother would never hold you responsible for the situation you found yourself in, it was natural to snap from time to time. Still, you broke free of her embrace, exhaling the air from your lungs several times to regain your composure before explaining the situation as clearly as possible.

"Imagine that the person you love most in the world is in danger, that you know where they are, but you can't get to them because you have obligations elsewhere. And then you feel guilty and helpless and..."

"Sweetheart, we can't help everyone," she took a deep breath at the unconvinced look you gave her. "You know, when the skypeople started this war years ago, when you weren't even an idea, your father saved me. By then he had already become the Olo'eyktan of our clan, and while I was walking in the forest collecting berries, some Men captured me. I was afraid, I was almost beginning to think that Eywa had abandoned me. That I was paying for all the bad things we had done, even without realizing it. And, just when I thought it was all over, he came and saved me." She rarely spoke of Tsu'tey, the man who had saved her and made her his Tsahik. Her eyes had become almost glassy and, she was no longer looking at you. "What I mean to say, my darling, is that I don't need to be saved anymore. I know you promised Eywa to protect me, to take care of me. But that is not your role, and it never was." She approached you again, this time placing her hand on your back. "So if your greatest desire today is to go to Kiri. Then go, I offer you my blessing. And I will pray to Eywa every day for you to find her.”

Although still full of guilt, but this time for a different reason, you packed a few things, including your bow and some arrows, before putting on your flight gear. The helicopter's propellers had just started turning when you mounted your ikran, ready for a journey of several hours.

As your ikran flew over the beach of the village of Awa'atlu, your determination to find Kiri overrode the fact that many of the native Na'vi on the islands seemed almost afraid of your mount's size. When Norm and Max's helicopter found a place to land on one of the stretches of beach, you jumped onto the warm sand, letting your ikran fly away until your next call. With your bow on your back, most of the Metkayina took you as a threat at first before you spoke the next words.

"I am looking for Kiri. Kiri te Suli Kirevsi'ite." Although they spoke the same language as you, everyone seemed to look at you as if you were from a completely different planet. You were about to get angry when the crowd split, creating a path for a small group of boys. At the head of it stood a proud boy who couldn't have been much older than you. He looked at you from head to toe with a look in which you detected a haughty side and another indecipherable expression. As no one seemed inclined to answer you, you let out a sharp cry in the air and, only a few moments later, your ikran came to rest on the sand, a few meters behind you. You didn't take your eyes off the boy, however, he had come to test you, and the mischievous smile he gave you when he saw your beast was enough to convince you that this game was won.

With a nod, he urged you to follow him, and so you did, still holding your bow firmly in your hand. After a few steps on the warm sand, you finally spotted Neteyam, leaning against a palm tree, sharpening the tip of a spear made of a lighter wood than you were used to using. Neteyam was like you, he always needed to keep himself busy so that his mind would not wander to and fro. The young man who escorted you walked with a pride that, beside you, seemed almost out of place. He sometimes glanced over his shoulder at you, as if he were trying to find a way to engage you in conversation but couldn't.

"Sully! Someone's here for you." The boy tossed to Neteyam who instantly raised his head before throwing his spear to approach you as if there was no way you were actually standing in front of him. Neteyam stopped a few inches away from you, as if to make sure it was really you before taking you in his arms. It was a strange sensation, you felt alive again, as if you had just found your home.

"I promised you we'd meet again," he whispered before your gaze caught the shadow of questioning that passed before his eyes. He was probably wondering how you had found them, or why you had decided, only now, to join them. To cut short all that, you spoke up, explaining the situation.

"Norm told Max that Kiri was in danger. You know how much your sister...you know how much you mean to me, I could stand there with my arms crossed...so I followed the helicopter and, here I am." His expression suddenly changed, showing the concern he was trying to curb by sharpening his spear. Without adding anything more, he moved slightly away, pointing with his chin to the hut where his family had been living for the past few months and where Norm and Max had just been unjustly thrown out by Neytiri, whose voice you recognized. Neteyam then glanced at the young man who had brought you to him, offering him a nod of thanks before putting his hand on your back to lead you forward.

As you walked toward the hut, your heart began to beat so fast that you thought it would burst out of your chest. The hand that held your bow began to get sticky because you were afraid of what you would find. Neteyam told you to wait for him a few meters away from the hut, so that he could tell his family about your arrival and make sure that everything was okay. So you observed the surroundings, the crystalline sea, the few Metkayina who were busy fishing for animals more elegant than those of your forest and, as your gaze had just landed on the strange aquatic mount of the members of this clan, a voice diverted your attention. Swinging back toward the hut, Tuk ran toward you, arms open and shouting your name. Laying your bow at your feet, you knelt down to welcome him into your arms.

"I see you missed me, Tuk Tuk. Guess what, I missed you too." You whispered before kissing her forehead. In the frame of the hut, Neytiri was helping Kiri stand and when your gaze met hers, you felt relieved to see that she was alive. Soon Kiri told you what had happened since her family had arrived at the Metkayina home, and why Jake had felt compelled to call in Norm and Max. Although she was almost angry at him for thinking of them, Kiri told you that she was glad he had done so, because you had been able to find her.

Awa'atlu was an amazing place, so different from what you had always known. You were not one of the few Metkayina who looked at you with a worried expression every time you passed by. Perhaps they thought that at any moment the beast you were riding would appear from behind the horizon to take them away from their beloved beach. You missed your mother, and High Camp, hunting had become different here as you turned to fishing under the wise advice of the boy who had led you to Neteyam, and whom you understood to be the son of the clan chief. Tonowari had not made your presence known because of your attachment to the Sully, and he probably just assumed that you were related. The boy in question, Aonung, always seemed to find a way to approach you, whether you were in the water or on the beach. Without really addressing you, he would sometimes tell you the extent of his exploits which, to be quite honest, sometimes seemed slightly ridiculous. Kiri had, of course, told you the story of her altercation with him, which had caused Lo'ak and Neteyam to be beaten up by Jake. So your regard for him was lower than he would have expected. Despite this, you were not unpleasant in his presence, keeping in mind that if he could afford to fight without consequences, he would probably be capable of many other things.

Within a few weeks, you had almost found a place with the Metkayina, learning to live like them and in harmony with the new marine ecosystem. However, the calm could only be short-lived, and before you even had time to make your first trip back to the mountains, the skypeople emerged as a threat on the horizon.

"I forbid you to fight, you are much too young." Being able to understand what was at stake with the skypeople's return, it took you only a few seconds to grab your bow and prepare to ride the heir of the last shadow towards the fight. But Jake didn't seem to think so, and as you were about to leave your hut to meet Kiri and Tuk in the water, he grabbed you by the arm.

Frowning, you broke away from his grip before proudly announcing, "Far be it from me to disrespect you, but it turns out that today you are no longer my Olo'eyktan, nor even my father." Taking on his grave air, he merely offered you a nod, aware that he could not retaliate without a valid argument. Not even your mother could have dissuaded you from going on a crusade, because she would have been one of the first arguments. By ridding Pandora of the enemy, everyone could live in harmony. So it is with determination that you joined the girls, ready to protect them from all possible dangers. But, while you hoped to find in Awa'atlu a strong position, Lo'ak came to divert your plans. Since Kiri had wanted to follow her brother, you followed him, discovering there the impressive Tulkun who answered to the name of Payakan. The boat then emerged from the horizon and, as everyone left the tulkun on the back of their ilu, Tsireya offered you to get on hers, or rather she pulled your hand to force you to leave.

The rest, you knew, was inevitable. Lo'ak, Tsireya and Tuk were captured. Having managed to escape thanks to the pockets of air provided by the immense underwater vegetation, you watched from afar the few attacks of Payakan, amazed by the beauty of a beast that you had surely involuntarily underestimated. You could not afford to remain helpless in the face of the situation and, calling your ikran, you rode it to the boat, your bow attached to its seal, you managed to hit a man while flying over the boat before your mount caught him to throw him into the ocean. As the ship slowly began to sink, you landed. Neteyam and Lo'ak were still on the ship, you had seen them go inside the iron giant, cursing them inwardly. The metal was cold, adding perfectly to the atmosphere of the place. Your bow still in hand, an arrow ready to be shot, you groped your way forward, using your keen hearing to find your prey.

Kneeling behind a thick metal plate, your gaze never left the imposing stature of the Na'vi soldier who held his weapon so firmly that it appeared to be an extension of his arm. From the small gap through which you had entered the ship, you had followed their tracks, inspecting the ground with great care for mud or any trace of passage. You sniffed the stuffy air for an unfamiliar smell. That's when the hunt really started. A chase that made you come alive, a chase that had once given you a daily dose of adrenaline during the search, and dopamine once the beast was in your sights. Gunshots rang out to your right, drawing not only your attention but also that of your prey, who rushed towards the origin of the noise. Following quietly, you saw Neteyam, Lo'ak, and Spider, safe from their enemies' fire, as a Na'vi lay dead on the ground. Other soldiers appeared next to the one you had initially tried to chase away, and while Lo'ak and Spider had just jumped into the water to escape, Neteyam would not have made it, and you were more than aware of that.

Without thinking, you shot your arrow, hitting your prey in the head, forcing him to the ground, diverting for a moment the attention of the soldiers who now had to fight on two fronts. You had just given Neteyam time to flee, and he had seized your opportunity. But now the soldiers knew where you were, and even if you tried to turn back, bullets were raining down on you.

When the air hit your face again, your first action was to call your ikran, which took only a few seconds to reach you and allow you to leave the ship. Aware of your flight, the soldiers regrouped on the deck to prevent you from flying further. Even though you were skilled, two bullets managed to find their way into the flesh of your arm and thigh, causing the pain you were unprepared for. Squeezing one of your wounds, you let your mount pull you back to solid ground as the world slowly began to spin around you. Setting foot on the sand, the pain in your leg was so sharp that you could only take two steps before you collapsed to the ground, letting the waves caress your feet and the sun warm your face.

You emerged into the Sully hut, Tuk's face close to yours.

"Hey, Tuk Tuk, did you miss me?" The little girl offered you a smile and, you winced as you tried to lift your arm to ruffle her hair. You then straightened up, admiring the bands that now adorned your arm and thigh. If Tuk and Neytiri were here, then the battle had to be over. "Did everyone make it?" You asked Neytiri then, suddenly overcome with a sense of apprehension that you had to keep quiet. The mother of the family offered you a smile similar to her youngest daughter's, nodding in response. Then you let out a sigh before lying back down, relieved to have helped bring peace to Pandora.

By the time you were well enough to leave the hut on your own, the Metkayina were already holding ceremonies to celebrate the return of a peace that would probably not last.

As the campfire crackled and popped, you sat silently, lost in thought. You gaze was fixed on the distant horizon, where the first rays of dawn were starting to break through the darkness. Despite this, you noticed Aonung while looking to the waves.

He leaned back against a nearby log, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded you with a cocky expression.

"Nothing in particular," he replied. "Just thought I'd come and see how you were doing." You snorted, clearly not believing him.

"Right," you muttered sarcastically. "Because that's exactly what you're known for, isn't it? Your kindness and concern for others." Aonung's smirk deepened, enjoying the banter between you.

"Touché," he said, chuckling lightly. "But you have to admit, it's more fun when we're not at each other's throats." You rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, you couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at the corners of your mouth.

"I guess you have a point there," you conceded. Aonung pushed himself up from the log and walked over to you, his expression turning serious.

"But in all seriousness, how are you doing?" he asked, his voice softening. "Do you need any help with your wounds?"

Tag -> @eywas-heir ; @cullenswife ; @liyahsocorro