#i swear though i saw the forced hand garments and went also i really need to follow through with learning the cybertronian

[return-to-pterosaur-phase]

this is literally the first episode of ben 10

[selinakidreams]

pairing: merman! dabi x gn reader

warnings: nameless character deaths, a singular mention of nausea + throwing up, unfortunately a lot of blood mentions, near death experiences, SHARK! THERES A SHARK IN THE WATER ! (I SWEAR this is supposed to be pretty but the warnings make it seem otherwise) slight soulmate au?, dabi had a SINGULAR moment of softness.

a/n: guys I don’t even know what this is and it’s unedited,, but welcome to my contribution to mermay ! I had two scenes plain as day STUCK in my head and I just needed to get them out,,, honestly this was just supposed to be a short lil thing but I’m invested,, so here this is

ps, though this may not be edited... I would like to thank all my monster fucking moots who helped me to piece together the perfect mer version of dabi— I love you guys so so so much.

looking out into the darkness of the night, unable to locate the horizon from your position at the edge of the ship- you lift your gaze to the sky with a small sigh.

an unimaginable amount of stars litter the atmosphere, the clear view above could never be tiresome.

the city was no place for you; too crowded, full of men who were trying to court you for your fathers money and your beauty, not enough adventure. the ocean offered a type of freedom land could never- granted, the ship wasn’t much different from the bustling towns in the sense that all the soldiers would eye you like you’re a slab of meat.

the only difference given at sea is that you’re able to put those undesirable fuckers in their place. given your ranking, your power obsessed father wasn’t completely useless.

escaping to the empty deck had been your big feat today; everyone below was gulping down wine by the barrel when you managed to slip out. it was much colder out here, the chill of the salty wind was refreshing, sobering you up quite a bit- but still mentally fuzzy enough to tempt yourself into discarding edict and loosening up your tighter garments.

your drunken attention span shifted from fiddling with your bow in the back to the inky deep water...

what was that?

ripples were quietly dancing on the surface, the warm light reflections coming from the ship’s sconces moved along with them.

it had been really fast, so fast that you were almost left to wonder if you had actually imagined the most vibrant blue eyes you had ever seen... bobbing in the ocean.

two days. it had been two days since you had first “spotted” them and absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. the sailors still went about uglily gawking at you, your captain of a father was still behind the wheel, barking orders at everyone, while you went about your business. Sighing, the image of the eyes still fresh in your mind, you prepared to be lowered into the shallower sea.

upon hearing that there was a small island not too far from your current coordinates, you commanded a stop be made, needing to take some time away from the close knit quarters you constantly share with those horrific pigs. thankfully, no arguments surfaced and you headed straight for the dinghy. it had been surprisingly easy.

the trip wasn’t too long; you patiently waited for the tip of the boat to breach the soft sand, excited for what awaited you. it was such a lovely sunny day, big puffy white clouds dotted the expansive blue sky while the palm trees at the base of the beach greeted you with a steady sway.

once your boots sunk into the wet sand, you turned to the two other men who had escorted you and informed them that you were not to be followed- but to wait right there- which in retrospect, was not a good idea. that was too much trust and responsibility that was placed in their incapable hands.

you wasted no time trudging through the lush greenery to get to the other side of the island, wanting to be as far away from the crew members as possible. 

it couldn’t have taken you more than two hours for you to reach an elaborate array of tide pools sporadically placed on a flat uneven rocky surface, some being lapped over by waves while others sat calmly- living in their own little world.

you had to look in each and every one of them.

wide eyes and mouth open, looking at all the lives in the crystal clear pools was an absolute marvel. some only held a few small sea anemones of different colors while others not only held the soft flowery plant but also housed fighting crabs of all sizes, large chunky starfish, and even a fish or two!

you took careful steps towards the end of the rocks, towards the ones where the waves were constantly restocking the pools with new life, your heart flipping in your chest at the colors of the crashing waves.

peering down into one of the deeper ones, you found it hard to take your sights away from the glistening sun streaks that cut through the water; a small gateway to the open ocean was at the bottom of this pool. it’s like you were hypnotized. making yourself comfortable, you laid yourself down next to the glistening water and began to break the calm surface with your finger tips, eyes trained on the tiny ripples.

“they left you, you know.”

you felt so at ease with the sound of the waves crashing around you, you almost didn’t hear it. it wasn’t until the nagging feeling that you weren’t alone hugged you in all the wrong places, that you looked up... only to be met with nothing.

scrunching your brow, the tranquility you were feeling before suddenly slipping through your fingers. you sat up, but not before you held a lingering glance at the glowing water once more. that’s an image that will stay in your mind; you almost wish you had your sketch book.

your mind went blank when you saw something block the light as it swam by... something big. the next few minutes happened in a blur. after scrambling up to get away from the pool, a huge body washed up on a nearby rock plateau and by no means was it graceful. your heart dropped to your stomach as you watched the lifeless body get smacked with harsh waves.

he was wearing your ship’s uniform, now drenched in blood.

nothing came up when you fell on your knees and lurched over, your eyes squeezing shut- the gruesome image of the crew member engrained in your mind.

“they got what they deserved.”

this time when you whipped your head up to follow the velvet voice, you fell into an almost trance. those breathtaking turquoise eyes you had seen a few days ago were now staring right at you, not too far away.

you couldn’t help the gasp that you inhaled as you fell back. looking at him in his entirety- you must have been hallucinating. growing up hearing the tales of deep sea monsters and nasty magical land creatures could never have prepared you for what laid in front of you.

it was such a drastic change; going from looking at something so appalling to something so... flawless... it was indescribable.

on display, your eyes followed the curled figure- wet white hair flopped against a pale forehead, the tips of his pointed finned-ears peaking out from the wet hair. there were deep dark purple markings starting underneath his eyes, slightly mimicking bags that then restarted at the bottom half of his face- all the way down his neck, ending at just the top of his chest. the markings then continued down his arms, right up to his knuckles contrasting the pale thin slightly webbed fingers that merged to sharp claws, gleaming in the sun. his toned chest eased into a pearly type of color around his hips before submerging into a black ragged tail- but it did the strangest thing. when the sun reflected off of it, a blue so royal- that you’ve only seen it on the most expensive of garments- came to life. the dorsal fin looked just as rugged as the tail did, but his odyssey fluke was splayed out so beautifully, you didn’t give it a second thought.

it wasn’t until you took a second glance that you noticed there was a red tint to his claws that you put into context what was said earlier.

“did you- di- you killed that man?”

his voice came out as smooth as silk, “I did.”

how could you be so dense? this was a creature that came from the sea- a ruthless underwater world. he was a predator. but wait-

“you can speak- you s-said.. did you kill them for me? are you going to-?”

“I killed those men because of all humans, the ones who betray others for their own greed serve no purpose.”

he didn’t tell you more than necessary in his opinion, but he was smart enough and old enough to know that you’re still going to ask more.

it seemed you were sitting on quite the pile of questions but he wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence. it was clear that you were mulling over what should be said first.

“was it you I saw at sea the other night?”

out of all the things you could ask, that was the only thing your mind had on repeat- the only thought present.

“and if it was?”

after receiving two similar vague reactions, something in you was screaming for something to happen. the interaction seemed to be going nowhere and here you were, in front of a creature that you’ve heard so much about but never actually met- a drastic change in interaction was calling, and who were you to ignore it?

in hindsight, it was a terrible idea.

one minute you were on land, next you were shedding your heavy, restrictive clothing- the mer watching with a slight smirk and a heavy gaze- then seconds later, were in the violent push and pull of the ocean. luckily you were far enough to be out of the rocky reach, but the current was too strong. you were being swayed back and forth with too much force.

if it had been your first time in the ocean, you would have been a goner- you would have washed right into the sharp jagged edges; a terribly painful way to go. but thankfully, flowing with the ocean had been your specialty since you were young. incredibly masculine and dirty, but you simply couldn’t stay away. the watery depths have lured you in and there was no escaping the spell it had casted on you all those years ago.

maybe that’s why you dove in. or maybe you wanted to see what the mer would do. whatever the case, there you were in the lull of the tide and running out of air. breaching the surface was your main goal, urging your arms and legs to snap out of the shock of the cold water.

eyes on the bubbles traveling upwards, you finally get your arms to push through the current almost missing the dark shadow swimming closer and closer to you, getting larger and larger.

a quick sideways glance in the clear water showed something large with many many rows of teeth out on display, heading toward you and gaining momentum.

a shark.

a... shark.

of all the ways you possibly thought you could go... this was not one of them. it’s almost ironic- the one way you thought you wouldn’t go would end up getting you.

breaking the surface, you gulp your last breath of air- painfully waiting for the horrifying moment when powerful jaws clamp around your body... but it never came. all you felt was a strong current zip past your feet, slightly pulling you along with it.

you’re heart was pounding; adrenaline coursing through your veins, breathing choppy as you whip your head in every which way to see what was going on in the water beneath you. then you saw it.

blood.

just then, the gory image of the crewmate’s body flashed into your mind. there had been another sailor... the mermaid didn’t pull up two bodies- he wasn’t the only predator in the water.

before you could evaluate further, you were pulled by the ankle under the water and into a place where the blood hadn’t seeped yet.

not enough air was sucked in before you submerged, so you frantically searched for ways you could reach the surface again- not even thinking about the now-absent steady grip that dragged you under.

then you felt it. pointed claws lightly tracing up your sides before his handsome face was leveled with yours. if seeing him on land wasn’t good enough, seeing him in his element was nearly heart stopping.

but your lungs were going to collapse before your heart could-

or so you thought.

he flattened his palm around your waist, cupping it gently before he inched his face toward yours, lips slightly ghosting yours, as if asking for permission.

with his toned body pressed against yours, it was hard to think straight, but the most prominent siren going off in your mind was the fact that you were loosing oxygen, and quickly. you found yourself panicking in his grip. was this really the time?

his lips were on yours in less than a second, your struggling becoming more and more apparent- but it was when he got your mouth to open that you realized what he was doing.

A mermaid’s kiss gives you the eternal breath; the ability to breathe under water.

pulling away, he watched as your eyes went wide, the small smirk you’d seen before had appeared once more.

the sensation was otherworldly; though there was a heavy pressure in your chest as the water was filtering in and out of your system, you were breathing underwater.

slowed down by the new density, you lifted your head to look up at the mer- no doubt the most excited and bewildered expression on your face, just to realize the size difference. he was huge- how had you not noticed this on land?

the more human half of his body had to be around the six foot range, his muscular tail roughly adding another ten. the massive figure floating around you was... beautiful.

he had the softest gaze when looking down at you, it nearly shocked you more that the new incredible ability had. he didn’t seem like the type to be full of expressions; it was such a warm and familiar look, something that you hadn’t seen in a long time- and one you typically didn’t see on a stranger’s face, much less a merman you had only just met.

opening your mouth to say something-if you could, that is- his expression changed in a blink, fear now contorted his features.

everything was so fast with him; his arm wrapped around your waist in mere seconds before speedily guiding you through a passage of underwater tunnels that lead to somewhere you assumed to be in the middle of the island- a lush green grotto.

once you resurfaced, you inhaled a breath you didn’t realize you needed; the new air burned your lungs- you almost didn’t want to breathe.

“just keep breathing. it will get easier over time.”

he almost sounded... bored? a complete one 180 to what you had just witnessed in the water.

the mer guided you up to the pool’s edge, lifting you with ease until you sat with only your legs dangling in the water.

outwardly, it stayed quiet for a while. there wasn’t much noise around besides the occasional bird call and the delicate sound of waded water.

your breathing had slightly evened out but you weren’t too confident in your voice, so keeping your mouth shut seemed like the best option.

what now?

tag list: @zhongh-li

[bosspigeon]

one for sorrow

Pairing: Gen, M!Detective/Mason Word Count:  3483 Summary: Juniper Fenn reflects on memories, nursery rhymes, loneliness, and wanting to be wanted.

Just a little (uh... kinda big, actually?) character study for my soft boy, Juni! It wound up a lot more emotional than I originally intended, but I like having this insight into his character.

CW for (implied) deadnaming, misgendering, coming out, and in the last portion a non-graphic post-sex scene with some allusions to said sex ahfdsjh.

                                     One for sorrow, two for joy.

He thought the needle would hurt more than it did. He closes his eyes and looks away, and the artist gives him the hairy eyeball when he clutches at Tina’s knee, like she’s afraid he’ll jump off the bench and bolt for the door. He wants to ask if that’s happened before, but he thinks he’s made enough of a fool of himself so far.

“You sure you’re good?” she asks, giving him an out. Somehow, that just strengthens his resolve.

He takes a slow breath and nods, closing his eyes.

He hears the buzzing, and when the machine first touches skin, he almost jumps, but he’s more worried about looking like more of a baby than he already does than he is startled, so he bites his lips and forces himself to holds still. And it does hurt, but not like he thought it would. He squints one eye open to watch the progress of the first line over his skin. He expects to be repulsed, like when he’s having bloodwork done, and he has to look away from the needle going into his arm. But this is different, somehow. Doesn’t make his stomach turn.

“This is the quietest I’ve ever seen you,” Tina teases, when the first wing has taken shape. He almost jumps again, but he manages to contain it to a twitch. He’s going to tip the artist as much as he’s able after this is done, just for dealing with someone as fidgety as him.

He chews at his lip. “It’s… I dunno. I wouldn’t say it feels good, but it’s kind of soothing, in a weird way?”

She leans over, watching, and the artist gives her a bit of a look, so she backs up again. “Have you told your mum?” she asks.

He snorts out a laugh and looks away, back at the stencil on his arm that will soon be filled in with black feathers and ringed with flowers. “Of course not. She’d probably kill me.”

“She doesn’t like tattoos?” Tina tilts her head, watching his face like she’s waiting for him to start whining about how it hurts. She’s always been the tougher of the two of them, and he’s got no illusions about that, so he’s sort of proud of himself for keeping his cool—as much as he’s got anyway.

He shrugs the arm that’s not under the machine, and wonders when he’ll get his next tattoo. He’s already got ideas for more, and knowing that it’s not so bad as he was worried it would be is exciting. Not to mention, it’s something that’s just for him. Not for anyone else. He’s… never really done anything like this before. “I don’t know what she likes, but I doubt she’d approve.”

She sucks her teeth and he squeezes her knee again when she gives him that soft, sad look she sometimes does when his mum comes up in conversation. “What’s it going to be?” she asks suddenly. Tina’s a good friend, changing the subject before he can get moody about it.

“A magpie,” he says softly, looking back down to watch the lone bird slowly taking shape on his skin.

                                       Three for a girl, four for a boy.

He asks what happened to all the pretty paintings around the house when he’s ten, because they disappear sometime after one of Mum’s visits, when she seemed more distant than usual. Maybe she hopes he won’t notice, but he misses them immediately. The house is too bare without them, it feels so lonely. It’s always been lonely, ever since Dad passed, but the bare walls make it even lonelier. Mum brushes it off, of course. He’s used to it at this point, so he doesn’t push her, but he’s also stubborn, so he goes looking. He’s even more determined when she tries to shut him up by replacing them all with clean, impersonal prints in neat little frames. He finds them in the attic, tucked away in a box, each one slipped carefully into a protective sleeve or folder and wrapped in tissue paper. He finds a dreamy matted watercolor of him as a baby, fat and freckly and smiling with no teeth, and he has to take a minute to sit down and cry as quietly as possible before he can start going through the rest. There’s a folder of scrawled pencil portraits, too. He finds one of Mum sitting on a pier, peeking back over her shoulder with her hair blowing in the wind. She’s smiling. He can’t remember the last time he saw her smile.

There’s a self portrait that makes him laugh through his tears, because the reflective surface Dad seems to have used as his mirror is a Christmas ornament, so his face is distorted, one eye huge, his tongue out, drawing himself drawing. He keeps that one for sure, and a few of the other ones he thinks he can get away with. An oil pastel of a wooden swing dripping with honeysuckle, a colored pencil drawing of the library, a few studies of people and plants and animals, and another watercolor of the three magpies, sitting in a juniper tree.

There are three magpies painted on his bedroom wall, from back when it was his nursery. Dad painted them right after he was born, before they brought him home from the hospital. They’d waited until he arrived to know what his gender would be. Of course, he went and messed that up, like he did most things. Sometimes he wonders if Dad would be disappointed, or if he’d think it was funny.

They used to be above his crib, and then his bed when he outgrew that, but he moves his bed to the opposite side of his room when he’s fourteen, and covers them with a poster. He thinks for sure Mum’s going to give him an earful about it, but he’s surprised she hasn’t tried to cover them up herself. He supposes it’s not really an issue, since when she is home, it’s not like she spends any time in his bedroom.

And then he's sixteen, and he’s been practicing his watercolor for years at this point. Sometimes, he creeps into the attic when he’s got the house to himself, rifles through Dad’s paintings, studies his style for as long as he can. He’s been old enough not to need a proper nanny for years now, though someone comes to check up on him frequently and make sure he’s got food and necessities, but beyond that he’s got plenty of time alone. He sits in the attic until he's sore from the wooden floor, trying to think of how Dad’s hands might have looked while he worked, the speed and angle of his brush strokes. He doesn’t think he can find anything new at this point, as many times as he’s snuck up here to look at Dad’s work, but out of the blue, he finds what might have been a really nice landscape, if it weren’t marred by fat little handprints in bright yellow and green, as if he’d smeared his hands across the palette the second Da took his eyes off it, and slapped them down in the middle of the paper. He comes back to it a lot, when he spends time in the attic, because when he looks at it, he swears he can hear what he imagines Dad’s laugh sounded like, his voice calling him a little menace with all the fondness in the world. 

And then he’s eighteen, and he’s alone on his birthday. Mum calls, tells him she loves him and she would come and visit him later on, so they could do something together, but she couldn’t take the day off. She tells him how proud she is of her daughter being all grown up, and he winces, but keeps his mouth shut.

And then he maybe gets a little bit drunk, drags out his paints and brushes, rifles through the portfolio hidden carefully in the back of his closet, and finds the painting with the juniper tree and the three magpies

He takes another shot to steady his nerves, and paints in a fourth.

                                      Five for silver, six for gold.

He shouldn’t be surprised Mum doesn't come to his graduation, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. She’s busy, she’s always been busy, she’s been busy since he was a toddler.

He was stupid to believe anything he did would be important enough for her to bother with. To believe that he could matter to anyone enough.

Tina’s stepmum had more foresight than he did, inviting him along to her and Tina’s celebration dinner at a fancy restaurant out of town, and he has to take a minute to cry in the bathroom after they proudly present him with a messily wrapped gift and a card that practically explodes with glitter when he open it, but he can’t even pretend to be annoyed because it has his name in it, and while he's trying very hard not to break down crying in public, Tina hugs him so tightly his spine creaks and tells him she couldn’t have wished for a better brother.

When they drop him off at home, his eyes are still red and a bit wet, he’s full of good food and affection, and he’s smiling like an idiot in spite of the fact that he can’t stop sniffling. The heavy sterling silver magpie skull charm rests against his collarbone, the weight comforting in a way he can’t hope to put into words. He'll never forget Tina’s dewy, smiling eyes as she clasped it around his neck and told him proudly, “Now you’ve got two.'"

He falls into bed holding the charm, reluctant to take it off, but knowing he should put it somewhere safe before bed. He exhales a happy sigh, laughing a bit wetly to himself.

And then his phone vibrates in the pocket of his slacks, and his heart seizes in his chest.

He doesn’t have to check the ID to know who it is. Nobody ever calls him, and his eyes flicker anxiously to the pressed dress in its plastic garment bag still hanging untouched on the back of his closet door. He’d given Tina the expensive name-brand heels for her own graduation outfit, because even if he did want them, he couldn’t walk in the damn things anyway. Lucky for him, they wear the same size shoe.

He takes a moment to calm his breathing, but that means he has to fumble to answer the call before it ends, and he winces when he sees two more missed calls in his log. “Mum!” he blurts, his voice instinctively pitching higher. “Hi! How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she tells him easily. “I’m sorry again I couldn’t make it today. There was  a—”

“A big project, I know,” he finishes. It’s always a project, or a trip, or a meeting. The details are always scant, but Mum knows how to make it sound big and important and in need of her attention. He’s tried not to be bitter about it, but there’s always been a part of him that wishes, for once, she’d decide he was important enough to need her attention. “It’s okay, Mum.” It’s not, it never was, but it would be selfish of him to tell her that. She’s got enough to worry about.

“Well, I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten, so I had a gift delivered. It should have arrived today.”

He bites back a sigh. He wonders if it would be easier if she had just forgotten. If it would hurt less than knowing she always made the decision not to see him. “Oh, I’ll go check!” he blurts, trying to inject as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. He rolls out of bed and heads for the door, poking out to check the mailbox. Of course, inside there is a slim, rectangular package, wrapped in tidy brown paper. The address and names are printed on stickers.

He takes it inside with the phone tucked against his shoulder, weighing the box in his hands. It’s light, and he wants to be excited about whatever it is, but he’s suddenly drained from the day, from crying and laughing and crying some more.

The dining room, somehow, has always felt more lonely than anywhere else in the house, and he’s never been able to figure out why, but he puts the package on the table and starts picking at the neat wrapping. Mum is quiet on the other end of the phone, waiting, and Juni wants to break the odd silence, but can’t even begin to think of what to say. He wishes he didn’t bite his nails, because it takes him way too long to break into the pristine paper, and inside is a long red jewelry box. When he lifts the lid, there is a delicate gold necklace resting on a soft velvet pad, understated and objectively lovely, if not really his style, but it’s the note that flutters out of the box that catches his attention. His eyes skim the note, expecting her usual platitudes that he sometimes wonders if she has someone else type for her.

I am so proud of the woman you’ve become.

His breath leaves him in a painful, strangled rush, his lungs squeezing tight in his chest. And before Mum can speak, he blurts "I can't take this," trailed by a ragged sob.

“Of course you can,” she says gently, kindly. “I know how you get about expensive gifts, but really, it’s no trouble—”

His head fills with screaming static when she calls him what she’s always called him, what she doesn’t know better than to call him, because he’s never told her. He’s never had the chance, it’s never been the right time, it felt wrong not to do it in person, but whenever he sees her in person he feels like he shouldn’t waste the time with her by bringing up something so…

“My name is Juniper!” It explodes out of him, louder than he’s ever been with her, and it stuns her into silence. “I’m not your daughter!” he cries desperately, “I’m your son. You can’t be proud of the woman I’ve become, because I’m not a woman!” He sounds insane, he knows he does, shrill and frantic, but his heart is hammering so hard he feels dizzy, the walls are yawning wide around him, the dining room feels huge and so empty and so bleak. He’s never felt more alone in this dark, quiet house he’s spent his entire life rattling around in than he does in this exact moment, and it’s suffocating. His phone drops from shaking fingers onto the floor, and he drops with it, curling into a ball and struggling to remember how to breathe, dizzily hoping he won’t need to go scrambling for his inhaler. His fingers clench so tightly around the heavy silver charm he’s almost worried he’s going to snap the simple leather cord, but he needs to ground himself or he feels like he’ll dissolve entirely.

He hears Mum calling the name that’s not his, and when he finally manages to fumble his phone with nerveless fingers, he winces seeing the screen is cracked. “I’m sorry,” he sobs weakly, his eyes burning with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He can’t even be sure what he’s apologizing for, but he knows he has to, especially when he slams the end call button and buries his face in his knees so he can cry alone in the dark.

                              Seven for a secret, never to be told.

Juni’s skin is starting to get clammy, but he’s too comfortable to move. Eventually, he’s going to have to, if for nothing else than to get up and get cleaned up, but for now, he’s happy, if a little chilly. He nuzzles into the soft curls dusted across Mason’s chest, and lets his eyelids fall to half-mast, just open enough to absently count the freckles hidden under the chest hair, inevitably lose count, and start counting again. Mason smells good, cooling sweat and sandalwood, and dozy as he is, it takes a moment for Juni to realize he doesn’t really smell like smoke at all anymore. His room doesn’t smell lke smoke, either, he realizes. His heart thuds hard behind his ribs.

He gets distracted when a shiver rolls over him, the chill suddenly overwhelming against his sticky skin, and he curls further into Mason’s chest in an attempt to leach some of his warmth.

Mason clicks his tongue, and Juni’s whole body stiffens, worry zinging into his gut to rattle around there like a bird in a too-small cage. Mason shifts underneath him, and he starts to roll away, to apologize, to get out of his hair, before a strong hand clasps the back of his neck.

“Hold still,” Mason grunts, sitting up and patting around for the edge of the blanket. He pulls it out from under them both, which almost sends the detective rolling off the bed against his will this time, but Mason's hand shifts down to spread across his lower back and hold him steady until he can get them both tucked underneath.

He flops back against the pillows again, one arm tucked under his head and the other loose at his side, and slowly, cautiously, Juni crawls his way under it. The hand lands  on his hip and squeezes, and Juni settles his head back on the vampire’s chest just in time to hear the pleased little rumble there. He flushes down to his chest and bites his lip, distracting himself by petting at Mason’s chest hair.

And then he pokes his flat, brown nipple and says, “Boop!” on some stupid impulse, and giggles like an idiot.

Mason scoffs and rolls his eyes, but shifts so that Juni’s thigh hitches up over his. “Keep that up, sweetheart, and we’ll be going into round two sooner rather than later.” Juni can feel the truth in that statement against his thigh, and he blushes so hotly he knows Mason can feel it at every point their bodies are touching. He might be approaching supernova levels of heat when Mason smugly adds, “Well, round two for me. Three for you.”

He hides his face in Mason’s chest with a long groan. “I’m going to explode,” he declares. “I’m going to collapse like a dying star.”

Mason laughs, sharp and startled and shockingly bright, and Juni’s head shoots up so he can see his face. His hair is a mess, but of course it still looks amazing, hanging around his face in loose, sweat-damp spirals. His vulpine grey eyes are crinkling at the corners, even his sharp nose wrinkling in a way that makes Juni’s heart almost stop. And his mouth, usually either pinned into a scowl, or twisted into a sly (and stupidly attractive) smirk,  is curled into a smile, breathtaking in its open softness.

God, I love you, Juni wants to cry, his heart pounding in counterpoint to the desperate, silent declaration he traps behind his teeth by digging them into his lower lip so hard he’s almost afraid he’s going to make himself bleed. And it doesn’t stop. I love you, I love you, I love you drums in his chest, hums through his blood, and when Mason catches him looking, he reaches out to push the tangled forelock of curls hanging in Juni’s eyes out of his face, cupping his cheek to pull him into a kiss. Juni shivers and braces his hand on Mason’s chest, feeling the vampire’s heart thumping there, steady and stable and achingly familiar. His own matches it beat for beat, and thankfully his mouth is too occupied for the pulsing plea of love me, love me, please love me to spill out. So he dives into it, clings to it, and when Mason breaks away to let him breathe, Juni buries his mouth against the arch of his throat instead, presses messy kisses to his collarbones, his chest, his shoulders, throttles the words before they can escape him and pushes them into touches instead. Touches can’t damn him the way words can.

There’s a soft, shameful part of him he ignores like he always has that whispers to him that maybe, just maybe, if he pours enough of himself into every kiss, every touch, that the words will finally be understood. That the weak little part of him he buries deeper and deeper every time it cries out will finally be seen, and answered, and cradled tenderly in someone’s strong, freckled hands.

But until then, it will sit there in his chest under lock and key and ache, like all his secrets do.

[tsbikersau]

Chapter 4

The days before a race in which Roman took part were always a bit blurry and hectic, even for Logan. Roman always got antsy, more and more so with each day bringing him closer to the race. It would not be anything that bothersome if he wasn’t trying to cover it up with being the most boisterous version of himself, and to top that off, he was very adamant at staying in the garage.

However, he was never racing against his brother before and no one could have predicted the mess he was.

Logan sighed after hearing Virgil almost yell for Roman to “leave me the fuck alone, Princey, or else I swear to God I’m sticking this wrench up your…” followed by a crash of things falling from the table. It was more than enough, Logan decided, standing up and dusting off his work pants.

He enjoyed getting to work with the machines, it was a much needed distraction from the administrative obligations of his position. He started noticing that he was actually working in his field of expertise less and less as the time went on, which was not ideal, but a necessary transition. He missed it, as much as he knew there was nothing to do about it, so it did made him a bit disappointed to have to cut this short because of the tension that needed to be resolved.

“Roman,” he spoke up, voice level, not leaving any space for arguing. “We appreciate your company. Still, you are coming with me.” He watched Roman open his mouth but one look made him shut it without argument. “Five minutes.”

Logan was aware that it came out more like a command and was directed towards the only one in the garage that technically wasn’t his employee, but it had to be done to be effective. He had to interfere before all the work got so stretched out that they would scramble to finish all checks and preparations on time.

Logan raised a brow at Roman, waiting for an affirmative. The expression made Roman snap out of whatever was going on in his mind and he nodded in the sudden silence that swept over the garage, cheeks just barely tinging with pink, while everyone was put on alert by the sole tone of their boss.

Accepting the gesture as the sign that the other agreed, he walked into the small changing room to get out of his work jumpsuit. He put it up on the hook in his locker, fighting with the small prick of resignation. He could have predicted that it would end in a similar way but he was just… stressed. Somehow the chaos in the garage always managed to seep into the administrative work as well; it was the usual, really, he was prepared for that. It did not help the stress, though.

He shook his head and closed the locker. Roman needed to get out of the garage before he made the situation worse. Virgil or Patton would take care of his work once they have the nuisance out of their hair (as much as it pained him to admit it to himself, and as much as Logan understood where Roman came from, in moments like this, he was a nuisance).

And the rest needed all the peace that they could get in the havoc before final deadlines.

He exited the room, his usual attire back on. All eyes turned to him for a second at the sound of the door opening.

“Virgil, Patton, would you be alright with closing up when you are done?,” he asked, hoisting his jacket up to rest over his forearm as he checked if his own keys were in the pocket of his slacks. They weren’t.

“Sure thing, boss,” came the answer from Patton, alongside a smile. He would never say it out loud, but his relief at getting rid of the distraction wasn’t all that hidden in the expression nor the tone of voice. Patton didn’t like to show that he minded the presence of any of them, especially knowing that it was just distress making the racer act like he did, but even Patton had his limits.

“And Roman?” Logan just quickly ducked into his office to take the lanyard with his keys off the hook by the door, but Virgil still had to raise his voice just a bit to make sure he was heard.

“Outside.”

“Thank you.” He decided to walk out of the big garage door so that he could pat the shoulders of his friends. He knew they were just as affected by the whole ordeal. “Don’t overwork yourselves. You are doing a great job.”

Virgil only smiled at that, always grateful for the praise. He knew that Logan appreciated them greatly without him having to resolve to over-the-top compliments. Patton laughed and waved his hand in a clear sign for Logan to just go.

“Have fun!,” he added as Logan was about to exit.

He had to go around the building to the front to meet up with Roman. The racer was standing near the door, back leaning onto the front of the building, arms crossed, foot tapping quite rapidly. If it wasn’t for the mix of worry and guilt in his expression, one could have assumed he was irritated.

“Roman,” Logan spoke up, startling the other.

“Oh, hi,” Roman slapped a hand over his face and groaned something like a more high pitched ‘oh hi’, clearly mocking himself. It made Logan smile a tiny bit. “I’m a mess, aren’t I?” he said a bit louder, this time meant to be heard.

Instead of answering, Logan motioned for the other to get off the wall and start walking, forcing down a chuckle. It felt like a foolish thing, truly, seeing how he had laughed at Roman’s jokes before, but for some reason the situation made him feel like he had to be on guard.

Another mental note to find some time to analyse his feelings and reactions, and the abnormalities thereof was made that second. For some reason the sole prospect of it made his stomach churn unpleasantly. He knew he was not going to like the result of that analysis.

It might have had something to do with the fact that he did know what the result may be.

But as for their present predicament, the thing was, he didn’t really have a destination in mind when he put the plan in motion. He didn’t mind just walking aimlessly for a bit, though.

The street wasn’t busy; it wasn’t empty either. On their side of the road the wall of buildings was all shops of various kinds. There was a dedicated sweets shop, made to look vintage - Patton loved it from the very first time he saw it. They did have some good chocolate selections, Logan just wasn’t the biggest fan of pure sugar sold in the form of candy.

There was also a small tea and coffee shop, selling the mixes but not a place to drink them. Virgil went in once and had to leave relatively quickly: as nice as the shopkeeper was, she was too overbearing for him. He went back in a few days later, this time more prepared (and a bit forced to, as he procrastinated getting his Secret Santa gift, his first contribution to the small tradition Patton started with Roman a few years prior and convinced Logan to take part because “it wouldn’t make sense with just the two of us!”. Virgil didn’t want to mess up and ended up stressing way too much, unnecessarily - later on, out of his earshot, Roman would be gushing to Patton about how nice and soothing the tea Virgil chose was).

And there was also the gear shop, just a bit further down, one that picked Roman’s interest as they were soon to passing it. They’ve been walking in a comfortable silence up until that point, not really realising it and not feeling the need to break it, both lost in their thoughts.

“Would you mind if we…?” Roman spoke up suddenly, motioning to the front door as slowed to a stop.

“Not at all.” How could he mind the detour when there was no set destination in the first place?

The inside was filled with shelves, somehow making use what little space they’ve got while simultaneously making it seem not that crowded. It focused more on the accessory side of the market rather than spare parts (Logan would have so much less trouble if he could just supply there, no need to worry about deliveries, he could just send someone over and that would be all), but their businesses complimented each other quite well.

It’s funny, how fate works. The shops came to be separately and without any previous planning. Logan’s crew didn’t know the owners and the owners didn’t know Logan.

He assumed they would know Roman, the rising star of motorcycle racing, though. In the past moths he’s become a recognisable face.

“Hey, look at this,” Roman called out almost immediately after walking into the shop, moving straight to one of the racks.

He took the sleeve of a jacket that was hung there to show what he was looking at before taking it off and holding it up, his head tilting to the side and eyes going back and forth between Logan and the jacket itself.

It made Logan feel weirdly scrutinised. Not the most pleasant sensation, he noted.

“It’d suit you if you raced,” Roman said, smiling softly for a second before catching Logan’s eyes, expression instantly losing that gentle fondness to make space for something that looked a bit more casual.

And it still managed to make Logan’s heart beat two beats a second for a small while.

“Thank you, Roman, I would rather keep on living,” he answered simply, voice and expression as deadpan as he could muster. He was going to indefinitely ignore all the physical abnormalities for now. It was not the time, nor the place for unpacking them.

Roman laughed at the words and stared to hung the garment back. “You know, you should come for a ride one day, you just might catch the adrenaline bug, Big Boss,” he said, not looking away from the task at hand.

“I seriously would rather not,” Logan repeated, turning to his side to look what the shelf there had to offer. Just don’t look at Roman, there was something almost dangerous in his eyes.

“Even with me?”

The question made him pause, or maybe was it the slight nervous undertone to an otherwise seemingly nonchalant question. Logan’s eyes went back to Roman, the surprise surely clearly visible. He was aware that the question was innocent, that he might be mistakenly taking it as sounding this particular way because of his own internal turmoil in relation to the racer, but Roman’s expression looked set and determined.

Logan tried to find a suitable answer but he couldn’t. He tried to speak, but found no voice there. Everything he tried out in his head to say sounded wrong. When did all of his words leave him?

“Logan, are you okay?”, Roman came up in front him, not too close, eyes suddenly filled with worry as he put one hand gently on Logan’s shoulder.

The contact made Logan flinch slightly, the result not being prepared for it (or maybe the overall speed of his mind trying to process his own behaviour that made him just a bit not in the present), which made Roman almost take it back before he must have realised that it was just surprise.

Or hope it was surprise. Logan wouldn’t know, but once he exhaled and let himself come back to now and here, relaxing his tense shoulders as he took in a deep breath, he appreciated the contact.

“I apologise for making you worry”, he said calmly after a few more seconds passed. His composure was back as if nothing happened, even though internally something still tried to fill him with some kind of emotion. “I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?”

Logan offered him a small smile. “I am sure”.

“Okay.” Roman took his hand back, also offering him a smile. Maybe a little unsure and concerned, but a smile nonetheless.

This time it was Roman’s turn to motion for them to keep moving.

They didn’t achieve anything by their short visit in the shop, aside from a small scene Logan hoped no one took notice of.

And as they neared Logan’s garage, having decided to come back on the condition that Roman will at most sit there quietly and read one of the books Logan kept in his office, the biker in question turned to Logan and smirked slightly, the worry now gone after Logan was able to converse with him on their way back.

That expression was well known to the other and it meant nothing but trouble.

“That date is still on the table, though, if you ever decide you do want to do something exciting for a change,” Roman said and vanished into the building, leaving Logan stilled in his steps for a second, heart picking up the speed for a few beats before he managed to bring himself back to reality.

Roman did not mean that. He was smirking, his voice tinted with humour. He was just teasing, he must have noticed the same thing that Logan did, that his first question sounded like an invitation on a date. Just a bit of teasing. A joke. Nothing more.

For the first time in his life, Logan wished it meant more.

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

Masterpost  ---  Next Chapter >>

Taglist: @xandromedan @mariita-2006 @compactdiscdraws  @private-snippers @bullet-tothefeels

[mulletcal]

room for two - an ashton irwin one shot

a/n: hi lovelies! i’ve had this sitting in my docs for a while.  i originally wrote it as part of the fic gift event as a gift for the lovely @sexgodashton​ but chose to post the poly!mashton one instead, also this one came in under the word count requirement LOL. so enjoy some soft ash content to celebrate superbloom coming this week!!!

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none

***

Ever since you had moved to Los Angeles, you felt as though you struggled to find your place there. It felt hard to find something genuine or unique in a place full of creatives, and full of people who mainly wanted advantageous relationships. You knew what you were getting into when you moved to the city of course, but it just took a minute to find your footing.

Once place that always seemed to give you solace though was a movie theatre- it was hiding on the outskirts of the city, or rather hiding in plain sight. It was small, only two screens on the inside; you were told it was built in the 1940’s, it being one of the final few in the entire state that had yet to succumb to the design pressures of modern theatres. There were two staircases to go up to the respective theatres, the railing an intricate wood design you loved to trail your fingers over every time, noticing some small detail you had never seen before.

Something else you loved about this particular theatre was that they held Two Dollar Tuesdays. Every Tuesday, they would screen 1-2 movies per screen; usually they were black and white films made in the 50’s, which you enjoyed because it made you lose yourself for a little while - but on occasion they would do a night where they showed movies made within the last twenty years. 

Work had been busy the last couple weeks, so you had missed the past few weeks of showings. Thankfully they weren’t films that you were overly eager to see, or else you’d have forced yourself to rush through the last few things you needed to do during the day so you’d be able to make it in time. This week though, you checked their website as you typically would Monday night and saw they would be showing Burlesque - one of your favourites, so you knew you had to go. Finishing up your day at a decent time, you knew you had just enough time to leave work and get to the theatre to buy your ticket.

When you arrived, it seemed unusually dead, your head cocking to the side as you walked up to the ticket booth.

“Slow night?” You asked with a small smile to the woman behind the counter.

“We decided to show one of the Avengers movies, can’t remember which one now, but it started a bit ago, everyone’s in there,” she chuckled, sliding you your ticket, “You’re the only one for Burlesque so far.”

On any other day, you wouldn’t mind a slightly busier theatre; but after the last couple weeks where you had been drowning in work, the idea of having a movie theatre all to yourself sounded heavenly.

You headed to the concession stand, gathering some goodies to enjoy during the movie before heading inside. You opted for the second row from the top, directly in the middle of the aisle.  

The lights had just been dimmed for the start of the movie when another figure entered the theatre; the man appeared tall, sneaking in slightly hunched over as if he was going to obstruct someones’ view.  When the man realized you were the only other one in the theatre, he stood to his full height, and you could swear you heard him say ‘Oh’.

He began to study the seats, almost as if there were some sort of method to the seat he picked.  After a moment, you sat up straight to say something to him- then again, did you really want to share your peaceful evening with someone else? From what you could see given the glow of the screen, his features seemed appealing enough, so it could be an opportunity to toss in some harmless flirting.

“Do you wanna sit beside me?” You asked, a small smile on your face, “I arguably have taken the best seat in the house, and I would hate for you not to enjoy the show as much.”

The mans’ head picked up when you started your sentence, a smile growing on his lips when you finished, “Well that would be lovely, thanks.”

You watched as he made his way up to where you were seated, realizing he was much taller than you originally thought, his black joggers accentuating his long legs (and thick thighs, but you definitely weren’t looking). Chewing your popcorn in thought, you missed him sitting down and extending his hand, too distracted by your racing mind.

“Oh sorry, what did you say?” You asked, blushing a little, though he couldn’t see it. 

“My name’s Ashton,” He said, his Cheshire-like grin never leaving his lips.

You shook his hand, returning it to your popcorn after that and turning towards the screen to watch the movie.  Throughout the movie, you noticed Ashton mouthing the words beside you, making you bite your lip to keep from giggling softly. You failed at one point though, at a particularly sassy line where Ashton was moving his head along with the words he was saying.

“What?!” He asked, turning to you while a giggle fell from him as well.

“No, nothing! I just… you know this move probably as well, if not better than I do.”

“Well I don’t see you lip syncing along.”

“I could but really you are the star of the show,” Your words were almost barely audible through your laughter.

Ashton shook his head and turned back to watch the movie, never ceasing his lip syncing. 

In your haste to get to the movie theatre after work, you had forgotten that the theatre tended to get drafty the longer you sat there. You often spoke with the employees after the shows, listening to their stories how they believe the building was haunted; but you figured it was just the 80 years of wear and tear on the building. You shivered at one point, not catching how Ashton’s eyes flickered over to you; when it happened again, Ashton tugged off his bright orange hoodie, holding it out to you.

“Here, you’re shivering,” Came his quiet request, eyes meeting yours.

“Oh, it’s okay! I don’t want you to be cold,” You spoke with a frown, placing your hands over his in attempt to push the hoodie back towards him.

“Your hands are what are gonna make me cold, please put this on and warm up.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but Ashton tossed the garment onto your head, not giving you a chance to. Once you slipped the hoodie on, you muttered a soft ‘thank you’, cuddling into the hoodie that was not only incredibly warm from Ashton’s body heat, but smelled like his cologne- it was bright, citrusy, and washed you in a warm feeling that instantly made you relax. 

Ashton turned to grab the snack he had purchased, giving you a perfect opportunity to see some (more) tattoos. 

“Nice rose tattoo,” you complimented, going to set your popcorn on the floor.

“Thank you! I got it for my sister,” His fingers traced the tattoo, a fond smile gracing his lips. 

“I love roses.”

“Mm, I’ll have to remember that.”

Another blush crossed your cheeks, and you weren’t sure if you were growing warm from his comment, or the sweater was doing its job. If anyone were to ask, you would 100% blame the sweater.

You couldn’t help but feel a little sad as the movie drew to a close. It was the most relaxed you had felt in a while, and also the man beside you was drawing you in slowly but surely. You knew after the movie was over, you’d never see this handsome stranger again, unless he happened to come see the same movie no one else was interested in.

Ashton stood and stretched when the credits rolled, and the lights were switched back on, giving you the full ability to see just what this man looked like. His disheveled black hair, hazel eyes, and dimples that just highlighted his charming smile; he was more breathtaking than you originally anticipated, and you knew you should try to make a move before he walked away.

When you went to take off the sweater to give it back to him, he grabbed your hand to stop you. 

“Hang on to it,” Ashton shook his head, rolling his lower lip between his teeth.

“You don’t want your sweater back?” You asked, confused.

“You look better in it than I do, and…” he trailed off, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I thought maybe you could give it back to me on our date?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, a smile of disbelief crossing your lips, “A date, huh?”

“I mean, only if you wa-“

“Ashton, shut up I was playing with you. Of course I can give it back to you on our date.”

Ashton was smiling wider than he had all night (that you’d seen, anyways) as he walked you back to your car, the two of you exchanging phone numbers before you got into your car. You’d have to remember to come back next week to tell the girls that worked at the theatre, because you knew they’d be invested.

tag list:  @talkfastromance4​ @calmlftv​ @notinthesameguey​ @loveroflrh​ @mantlereid​ @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​​ @ashtonlftv​​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @monimickell​ @petunias-pet​ @treatallwithkindness​ @castaway-cashton​ @tea4sykes​  @wheniminouterspace​ @another-lonely-heart​ @myfavfanficsever​ @xsongxbirdx​ @stardust-galaxies​ @karajaynetoday​ @bestyearssos​ @cheekysos​ @suchalonelysunflower​ @aquarius-hood1996​ @wildflower-cth​ @becihadshawn @youngblood199456​ @cxddlyash​ @kindahoping4forever​

[anime-alyssa]

one of our own

breeding kink. also on ao3. please consider donating to my ko-fi if you like this. also, this is only my second kink fic so please be nice. smut below cut.

You didn’t intend to wind up with a Mandalorian partner. You had accepted that at this stage in your life you were fine being alone and that a partner was probably not in your future. You were fine with that, you had your food stall anyway, your boss would literally kill you if you ever stopped selling for him.

That was until you turned around in your shop and saw a little green creature sitting in your chair, smiling at you and giggling. It made you jump out of your skin, even though it was absolutely adorable.

“Oh gosh - hey little… little friend?” you spoke to it softly. It gargled in response and reached its arms out to you. “Where are your parents? How did you even get in here?” you received no response as you picked it up, sighing and looking around the market. It was nearly deserted, almost time to close up anyway. You reached into what you had brought for dinner - some fish you had managed to sneak out from the stock room - and held it out. “You hungry?”

The thing swallowed the whole fish in one bite, surprising you but also causing you to laugh. It was something you had needed today - you had been treated like garbage by your boss cause sales were down after he raised the prices. Maybe this little thing was the small pick-me-up you needed. But you needed to find its parents - where ever they may be.

“Hey! You - put him down!” you nearly jumped out of your skin at the yelling from across the stall. A Mandalorian came running out of the shadows and over to you.

“I’m sorry - what?” you asked. The little green creature looked over to the Mandalorian and started to laugh, but excitedly tried to get itself out of your arms and over to the Mandalorian. “Hey - watch yourself - be careful!” It had already jumped out of your arms and to the Mandalorian by the time you managed to get that out.

“Where did you find him?” the Mandalorian asked, a lot calmer than before.

“He was sitting on my chair behind me - wait is he yours?” you asked him. The Mandalorian said nothing as something on his hip was beeping, in the direction behind you. So he was a bounty hunter, here looking for something. That didn’t answer your question about the kid though. “Taking a kid on a hunt isn’t exactly a good idea, you know - ”

“He likes you. Can you watch him?” he asked, holding the child back out to you.

“Uh, sure I guess but we close soon and you don’t know where to find me - ” By the time you looked back up after taking the kid again he was gone.

He found you in record time afterwards. Turns out the quarry that he was after was your boss who owed a big deal of money to someone on Tattooine and they had enough of him not paying them. Of course, this left you jobless but thankfully, the Mandalorian had an idea: you work for him and help take care of the kid.

You didn’t have much of a choice but to accept his offer. He had taken your former boss back to Tattooine which left you without another option, honestly. You didn’t mind it either, it got you off this planet and helped you start a new life. The Child was absolutely enamored by you, and you discovered a couple months later that so was the Mandalorian. You would have been lying if you said you weren’t feeling the same way back.

It sort of happened and you swear that it’s all the kid’s fault, with his freaky powers that you didn’t understand. You swear that the little green monster knew all along that you two would be together. It was probably why he showed up in your shop in particular - you believed in fate and you swear that was fate.

Din slowly opened up to you after a month or two, fully explaining how he got the Child in his care. You learned The Creed of the Mandalorians and what it meant, he even started to teach you how to fight, just incase. You pestered him to learn some Mando’a as well, just basic phrases and he taught you that too. You don’t know exactly what it was that flipped a switch in his head, but all you know is one night you fell asleep in the co-pilot’s chair with the kid nestled into your chest and the next day he was confessing his feelings to you.

You got comfortable around another. He felt comfortable enough to take off everything (minus the helmet) around you when you were in flight, to sleep with you next to him, to actually talk to you and not just say two sentences at a time. The sex was great too - he was the biggest person you had ever been with and probably would ever be with. After not letting himself have it for so long due to the kid and not being able to get away, he went wild and you were actually shocked that you didn’t wind up pregnant.

A few more months after that he asked you to be his riduur. Your stomach fluttered as he asked you and immediately you both managed to say the vows, where he took his helmet off in front of you for the first time. He was incredibly nervous, shaking the entire time but so were you. This was a huge fucking deal and the fact that you of all people he picked - it made you feel so incredibly lucky.

Din enjoyed the newfound freedom of being able to have his helmet off whenever he was in the ship now, and you got used to seeing him without it. Even the kid got used to it. You and the kid were nearly inseparable and it sparked something in Din he never thought he would feel.

Every time he saw you with the kid, Din got a strong urge to have children of his own with you. Which is something he never thought he would want - bounty hunting is no place for a child and he wouldn’t want to raise one on a ship all the time. But the way you interacted with him - you were so caring, gentle, and understanding. He can’t help but picture what it would be like if in your other arm there was a little you, or a little Din.

You started to notice, and you weren’t even sure he knew what he was doing. Or he might, you had no clue. Din talking about his feelings was not something he did easily - you knew that. But the way he would stay inside you longer after he came, propping your hips up to meet his; there was no doubt about it what he wanted. You weren’t stopping him either, but also it was something that needed to be talked about. You already had enough full hands with your little green child, another one would be a lot more work and he would certainly need to change things up in terms of his work. It was difficult for you to think about, his work brought in credits which in turned brought you all food.

You were still thinking about it when he came down from the cockpit, sitting on a crate and watching the kid run back and forth for no good reason. You were letting him get his energy out before putting him down for the night, since he still had a lot of it. Din stood behind you, hand on your shoulder. It was going to take three days to bring the quarries he had collected back to Karga, and you had just left the planet. Three days trapped in a ship with your husband and the baby. You’d survive, right?

“What’s he chasing?” Din asked you, watching the little green bean running in circles now, laughing like a mad man.

“Absolutely nothing.” you replied back with a laugh. You didn’t need to look up at Din to know he probably rolled his eyes at the sight of him. You sat in a comfortable silence, eventually Din taking a seat behind you. “You ever sometimes just… imagine what it would be like - maybe if there was one more? But ours?” You swear you could hear Din’s breath catch in the back of his throat as you proposed the idea, thus confirming your thoughts earlier. It was more of a choke, a cough.

“That’s - that’s a loaded question. Why?” he asked, regaining his composure. You turned around on your crate to face him sitting behind you, and looked at him. Din was absolute shit at hiding his emotions on his face - because normally he at least had a mask on to do the hiding for him. He was trying his hardest to hide the surprise on his face.

“Just a thought.” you shrugged. The kid then, as the force would will it, tripped and started crying, prompting you to jump up and go to his aid. Din let go of the breath he didn’t know that he was holding and groaned quietly when he felt a tightness in between his legs. God dammit. He was really fucked. “You’re fine. Let’s go to sleep now.” you cooed to the kid. Din’s eyes followed you over to the cradle as you set the kid down inside of it, settled him, and shut the lid once he fell asleep.

You could tell something was up with Din when you turned around. He was staring at you intently as you walked back over to him, setting yourself in his lap this time rather than next to him. Immediately you felt the problem - it was hard not to, he was so big that there wasn’t much he could do to hide it.

“You drive me crazy.” he said to you. You smiled down at him as his hands made their way to your hips and his lips hovered over your neck and up to your jawline slowly. God you loved that he didn’t have to keep his mask on now. It made moments like this way hotter than before, though sometimes you have him put it on. “What am I gonna do with you?” he asked.

“I think the real question is what would you do without me?” you whispered to him, hand just so happening to fall over his clothed erection. He let out a groan and slowly ground his hips up towards yours. “You seem to have a problem. Let me fix it.” You got up and took his arm, dragging the pair of you over to the bunk.

He was on you in seconds, turning you to face him and bringing his lips down to yours. Your hands went into his hair immediately as his found your ass, pushing you back further and further until your legs hit the bunk. Your hands left his hair to work on his tunic and he got the message, helping you take off the garment and throw it to the side. You licked your lips as he did the same with your sweater, helping you lay back onto the bed afterwards and immediately bringing his mouth onto one of your nipples.

“Shit Din!” you breathed out. While his mouth was working at your nipple, biting and sucking away, his other hand was trying to get your pants off. You lifted your hips to give him a little help and he got them off the rest of the way. He started to kiss his way down your body and you moaned in excitement as he got down lower and lower.

“You want me to do this or do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, pressing his lips to your bud and letting his tongue drag over your folds. A moan escaped your lips as he did this for a few seconds before he pulled back, waiting for his answer.

“Is both an acceptable answer?” you asked him. He rose his eyebrow up as if to say ‘what do you think?’ before he licked another stripe up your core. He came back up to your nub and sucked on that gently some more before his tongue went in between your folds again, having you a moaning, desperate mess for him. “Fucking - fuck me Din - oh god I need you - ”

He was up on his feet to get his own pants off before you could even finish. His cock sprung out of his pants the second he got them down and then was back on top of you in a flash. He spread your legs out for him and lined his cock up with your throbbing wet core, waiting for him to enter you. He sunk into you slowly and you moaned, the size of him never something you could get used to.

He moaned in relief, head hanging by your neck. He put his lips onto your neck and began sucking on a sensitive spot for you as he began to thrust into you. He didn’t start out slow, he started out at a moderate pace (for him), one of his hands taking a fistful of your hair into it and the other palming your breast. He moaned into your neck with every thrust, tightening his grip on you as his pace quickened.

You moaned as the hand that was in your hair went down and under your hips angling them up towards his, giving him an opportunity to fill you more. You started to see stars as your core grew warmer and warmer and your high built inside you, the walls inside you barely holding yourself together as he plowed into you. Din was thrusting into you completely and slamming back in after almost taking his entire cock out with every thrust. He was rough, his groans and your moans echoing off the walls.

“Feel so - fuck you feel so good - gonna fill you - fuck I’m gonna fill you up.” he groaned out into your neck as he continued to hit your g-spot. He had a steady rough pace, his hips snapping into you quickly as you could hear the sounds of sex around you. “Fuck, shit, fuck - ” Din moaned out to you, the hand on your breast squeezing it making you cry out. You were so close, so so close -

“I’m so - so close Din - don’t stop, keep going - ” you breathed out as he did just that. The pace he set after that was unlike anything he had done before. You were bouncing back on the bunk as he pounded into you, Din muffling his own moans into your neck as the hand on your breast left its position to help him steady himself above you. You screamed as he fucked you faster now, your walls starting to tighten and you felt your orgasm coming up quickly to take over your body. “Gonnacomegonnacomegonnacome - Fuck Din!”

In a white hot flash your orgasm took over your body, your walls closing in on his cock and screams erupting from your mouth. Your back arched against the bunk and into him and the only thing you could grab onto was him, your hands on his shoulders leaving indents and scratches as you came. Din fucked you as you came undone around him, feeling his own high about to come on as your cunt convulsed around his cock.

“I’m gonna - gonna come - fill you baby - so good - fuck - ” He said as his own high took over him, his seed spilling inside of you and cock twitching as he came. You were still trembling when he was coming in you, panting for breath as you came down from your high. You were covered in sweat as he was moaning above you, hoisting your hips up and gluing them to his own. He began to pant to catch his breath too, high long over and cock beginning to soften inside of you, when he finally pulled out. His arm was still under your hips as he collapsed next to you, as if maybe that would make everything stay inside you. You waited a few minutes before speaking up again, trying to form your thoughts into words.

“I want one too.” you said to him, still laying on your back. He perked up to look at you. “One of our own. I want one too.” you said to him. Redness creeped up on his face as he tried to form a thought to fight back with. “You’re not one for subtlety without the mask, Din.” you said with a laugh.

“Need to work on that.” he mumbled, pulling you close to his chest. You gave him a laugh as he held you while you fell asleep.

Nine months later, Din Djarin got his wish with a beautiful little girl. It only made him want more.

[chaos-weekly]

Didi was never going to admit this, not even to Nollie, but Jude Jackson had a nice set of abs. Of course, that was one of the last things she saw before quickly falling asleep in a bed that smelled exactly like JJ. She’d been swathed in all night when he’d had his arm around her, and now she was wrapped in it even more. At least he smelled nice.

When she woke in the morning, Didi went through her mental checklist meant for whenever she woke up in a bed that wasn’t her own.

Was she alone? Yes.

Had she fallen asleep alone? Yes.

Was she naked? No.

Had she had sex? No. Although the thought had definitely crossed her half asleep mind after seeing JJ’s abs. And his arms and pecs and shoulders and back and ugh. He was hot. She hated it.

But she was in JJ’s bed, and it wasn’t for a weird reason or a sexual reason. Which was probably even weirder than a weird reason—it not being sexual. Sighing, Didi sat up and pulled on her bathrobe—really, it was a silk robe just like the one Nollie had been wearing the night before. Short, maybe, but it covered even more than the t shirt she had slept in over her underwear.

Didi didn’t look at her phone, just grabbing it on her way out of the room to find food. A glance at the couch showed that JJ was still asleep, sprawled across the couch looking incredibly comfortable. A glance at the fridge showed her that JJ needed to go grocery shopping. He had some milk that was close to expiring, some cheese, and a few other things. No eggs to make herself an omelette. Figured. He was a bachelor. Maybe not publicly, but he was.

“Okay, I’m ordering takeout,” Didi said, walking over to the couch. She reached down, shaking JJ’s shoulder. He murmured incoherently. Of course he was a heavy sleeper.

“I’m ordering breakfast. What do you want?” she asked again, louder. This at least got him to open his eyes. He looked at her in confusion, and she was pretty sure he was surprised for a second there. Probably shocked to see a woman he hated waking him up with promises of food.

“What’s your favorite place for breakfast?” Didi asked again, shaking her phone for emphasis. He squinted at her in the morning light.

“The diner down the street. Mary’s Place,” JJ answered after comprehension finally settled in.

“Cool. Now sit up, I’m not sitting on one of those bar stools while I wait.”

“So demanding, baby girl,” JJ muttered. It wasn’t worth glaring at him for the nickname, though. That would probably only encourage him. Luckily, though, he did sit up.

It took a few minutes for her to order their food for delivery, but she did finally get it. It was only then that she checked her texts. Nollie wanted to make sure she was okay and that JJ hadn’t been murdered. Nothing from Xander, which was a little weird. She expected him to bother her about sleeping with JJ. There was one from her mom, saying how nice she looked on the white carpet and asking who her handsome date was. Didi smiled and rolled her eyes. She and her mom had grown apart since their poolside Madonna days, but her mother was still an important person in her life. Work just happened to keep Didi plenty busy.

Then she saw that Jared had texted her at six am. All too early for a Sunday, but what he’d said was even worse.

‘For my sake, I hope you got lucky last night.’

What?

Jared had always been, not interested, but concerned with her sex life and how it impacted her career. She understood it from a publicity angle, but this had nothing to do with publicity. This was just creepy and. And. And Didi didn’t know what else!

“I’m going to murder him,” she stated, still shocked. What else was there to say?

“Xander isn’t that bad,” JJ joked, but he sobered up when he glanced at her phone screen.

There was a lot of colorful language to follow for the next thirty seconds. And many angry and confused exclamations. Didi was pretty sure someone finally hated Jared as much as she did.

“That’s none of his business,” JJ finished, running both hands through his wild red curls. He had stood up, and his swearing had left him breathless. Didi felt the exact same way.

“Yeah, well, he apparently doesn’t think so,” she spat out in frustration. She locked her phone and let her head fall back against the couch.

“How on earth does he think that’s an appropriate thing to say? How does he have a job if he says things like that?” JJ was appalled, and it comforted her knowing that he was as freaked out as she was. Actually, he was probably more freaked out. He wasn’t used to behavior like this from his manager.

“Because hooking up with other famous guys has landed me in plenty of hot water because Hollywood sucks. Because he still thinks I’m the reason Xander and Leah broke up. Because he thinks he can make every personal part of my life his business.” She dropped her phone, eyes squeezed shut. As soon as this fake dating contract was up in six months and three weeks, she was firing Jared. And probably suing him, too. She had legal grounds for that, right? If not, Didi would find legal grounds.

JJ swore again and finally sat back down on the couch. “Jake is bad, but he’s not like that. That’s screwed up.”

She sat back up with a resigned shrug. “I’m firing him as soon as I can. He’s done enough crappy things already, but this is straight up creepy.” Didi shook her head, done with this topic.

“How is Jake bad?” It didn’t occur to her that this was her first actual conversation with JJ, who still seemed rattled by Jared’s creepy comment. But thankfully, JJ understood that she was dropping the topic.

“He’s a workaholic. Doesn’t have faith in us making it last. Obsessed with taking every opportunity for fame. We don’t get much free time. Only reason I’m here right now is ‘cause of the photo op arranged for later.”

That sucked. Big time. Jared was messed up, but at least he didn’t control every aspect of her life.

“That sucks,” Didi said, eyes downcast so she wouldn’t stare at his chest. He was still shirtless. But she wasn’t about to complain.

JJ shrugged, but the knock at the door kept him from saying anything more. He got up and returned a minute or two later with two leftover boxes and silverware.

“Here ya go, princess ,” JJ said when he handed her her box. This time, Didi didn’t roll her eyes at the pet name. It wasn’t as bad as sweet thang or baby girl. Doll hadn’t been too bad either, though. Not that any of this mattered. She was here for seven months and then JJ would be out of her life for good, and everyone would be better off for it.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, a lot quieter than normal. Thankfully, JJ didn’t try to bring anything up again, so they ate in a silence that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. After eating, while she was getting ready for the day, he cleared out one of his bedroom drawers. It surprised Didi, but she placed her travel toiletries in there without a word.

“Hey, JJ?” she asked as he walked her towards the door. Didi was dressed now, a garment bag for last night’s gown in one hand.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Don’t mention the Jared thing to Xander. He’ll flip out,” she requested, her voice surprisingly soft. Maybe this had rattled her more than she thought. Xander may have been preparing to tease Didi and JJ for the next seven months, but he was partially doing it to bother them for laughs. He would probably try and publicly bring down Jared for what he’d said. Except because of contracts and NDAs, Didi would get sued if that happened. It would be an even bigger mess, and she loved her best friend, but she didn’t need his protective side to kick in.

JJ looked a little surprised by her request. “I wasn’t gonna. Why would I tell him?”

Great. This was awkward. “I dunno. ‘Cause we’re both friends with him, I guess.” She had definitely read the situation differently.

“Not his business unless we want it to be,” JJ pointed out, opening up the door for Didi. As expected, a few paps were out front of his small townhome. Show time.

Didi flashed him her biggest grin, standing on her tiptoes and launching herself at JJ with a giant hug.

“Sorry,” she whispered, not for the hug, but because she felt bad dragging him into her Jared mess. Not that she’d even dragged him in. Jared had forced everyone into this situation.

But at least Didi could have some fun with it. She pulled JJ’s head closer to hers, and pretending to whisper something in his ear, she nipped the top of it. It was flirty, but still gentle. And also in full view of the cameras.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby,” she called out once she was almost to the car that would take her home to Nollie. Didi was pretty sure they weren’t actually seeing each other that night, but the words slipped out. She gave JJ, who was smirking at her, a wink.

Maybe he wasn’t as absolutely horrible as she thought. He had nice abs, if nothing else.

[completelynobody]

12 years ago...Western Frontier

"Fall back! It's too strong!"

Malantor, the apprentice grade wizard of the Order of Mystery, pleaded with his surviving compatriots.

He'd seen the terrible might of the troll, and it frightened him.

His comrades in arms were all now either dead, dying, or wounded in some way.

J'drac, the brave warrior fell first. His mighty greatsword still lodged in the trolls healing shoulder. His head rolled to a stop at the wizard's feet, as his body slumped to the ground more than ten paces away.

Mithrigal, the beautiful elven rogue, sat with her back against a nearby boulder. She frantically clutched at her exposed bowels, trying to tuck them back in. Weeping as her life ebbed away.

Ronsakil Goodbarrow, the Halfling cleric was nowhere to be seen. The troll's surprise attack had cost him the most. The last anyone heard of the cleric, were his cries as he was thrown over the side of the black gorge, disappearing into its dark abyss.

Lem Faso, the bard, was already running. Deep claw rakes in his back were bleeding so profusely, Malantor considered parting ways with him. He was certain the troll would have little difficulty tracking the poor musician and finishing him at his leisure.

Out of options, the troll had turned its attention on the wizard.

Before Malantor, could react, the troll was on him. Closing the distance with preternatural speed.

As it plunged a claw through the wizard's abdomen, Malantor could only marvel at its agility.

The wizard faded running out of breath before he could finish the incantation to his spell.

Minutes passed, and the troll wrenched the head from his prey. As he did something sparkled and caught his eye.

He poked a gore caked claw at the shining bauble in the bloody pool. The meat was adorned around the throat with the item.

The troll liked shiny items, and kept a hoard of them nearby. Meat often came bearing shiny trinkets that he collected after every feast. This item would be no different.

Feast he did.

Hours later, he awoke from his post gorging rest and decided to collect his treasures.

The metal skin the hurtful meat wore, the tiny yellow pieces of metal the pointed female kept in her skin-bag, and of course the shiny trinket the last meat to fall wore around its throat.

He filled his own skin-bag with the tiny yellow metal bits.

He tucked the metal skin under his arm, and bent down to pick up the trinket.

As he did, some of the metal skin was dropped. The troll growled, and picked it back up. He then went to retrieve the shiny trinket.

Again some parts of the skin fell out from under his arm.

In a rage he threw it all back on the ground and considered his dilemma.

An idea came to him. If the meat wore the trinket around its throat, maybe he could as well.

He carefully took the looped part of the trinket, and tried to fit it over his head.

Of course it wouldn't fit. Not wanting to break the fragile looking loop, the troll picked up a large stone.

He proceeded to smash the side of his skull in. With each strike, his head grew a bit more narrow.

Eventually, the loop slid down around his neck.

Suddenly.....

As the trinket fell against his chest, and as it came to a rest, a sort of clarity came over the troll.

The pain in his head bothered him more. He suddenly realized that simply because the pain goes away, and the wounds do heal, it may not be a wise plan to cause himself harm.

He looked at the worthless armor and scoffed.

He then paused.

Armor? Where did that word come from?

Oddly it occurred to him that some of the prey that came through wear armor, yet not all. He wondered at that. He then realized he'd never considered this before.

He went to the remains of the one who was wearing the amulet.

Again, he wondered....

Amulet?

Where were these words coming from?

Not a time to ponder that. He was more interested in why they all didn't protect themselves the same way.

He poked through the unarmored prey's belongings. He found an unusual item. He remembered finding items like this in the past.

Normally, there were bound in skin of some sort, and contained many pieces of parchment with odd little drawings on them. Sometimes though, they too were adorned with the yellow metal.

He remembered taking one from some prey many years ago.

At any rate, he opened the item and looked again at the odd drawings. What were once incomprehensible doodles, now formed thoughts in his mind as he looked at them.

This was a book. He remembered hearing the word once. But this was the first time he drew the connection.

As he read through the book, his mind was tickled by the things contained within. Magics, and rituals. Spells and incantations.

There were also many notes written in the book. Most of the freshest scribblings spoke of yet another book.

A book that, when read, would make the reader brilliant. The troll wasn't positive what brilliant meant, but he knew he wanted to be brilliant.

The book he was reading, also had tales written within, about someone the writer constantly referred to as "Master". From what the troll could gather, this prey didn't much like the master, but he did respect him.

After several hours of reading, the troll learned many things.

Armor was worn by those who used weapons in battle. But those that wielded magic did not.

The troll considered something...Since he could shrug off almost any wound, he didn't really need to wear armor.

So then he would learn magic. He would learn it, and grow powerful.

8 years ago...Subterranean Grotto somewhere in the Dwarven Kingdom.

"Tell me your secrets Rock Druid!"

Morlakash, the Troll Wizard, held the Dwarf by the throat and pressed him hard against a mighty stalactite.

The terrified druid sputtered.

"What do you want? W-w-what secrets are you after?"

The Troll pressed his face close to the dwarf's.

"Tell me of the nodes little prey, or I will suck the marrow from your thick little bones."

The Dwarf's eyes grew even wider. He was astonished at the Troll's mannerisms before, but its knowledge of the existence of the nodes was baffling. Not a single surface dwelling creature knew of their existence. None that would still be alive anyway.

Either this creature was the oldest living thing on the surface of the world, or it had somehow gotten access to secrets so ancient, they were written in the dead languages of the prehistoric giants that once roamed the world.

Whatever the case may be, he was in the clutches of a Troll. A Troll that commanded magics that only a highly skilled wizard could possess. He was in no position to remain evasive.

"The nodes are gateways. They lead to the deepest reaches of the sunless lands. But nobody from our world has journeyed to those depths since...."

The Troll pressed harder.

"Since who?!"

The dwarf shook, clearly unwilling to continue, yet even more unwilling to become this monster's next meal.

"Since the banishing!"

The Troll wizard began to drool. He let his slather wash down the Druid's neck and chest, soaking his garments.

"Explain!"

The druid wept.

"A thousand generations ago, there was a civil war among the elves. The insurrection was put down, and the losers were brought to us. Their punishment was banishment to the deep. So the elders of my order activated a node, and sent the banished, and their families into the darkness below. But something went wrong. Too many went through and the node's power was completely exhausted. We lost the power to travel below. So our elders sealed off the node and struck all records of its location from our histories. Their hope was that if left alone long enough, it may eventually regain some of its power."

The monster withdrew slightly.

"And where is this hidden node? How is it sealed?"

The druid lost any color he had left.

"I-I don't know. I'm not even supposed to know what I've already told you."

The Troll simply quirked a brow and opened his jaws wide.

As it leaned forward, the dwarven druid smelled the acrid breath, and heard the horrid hiss.

"I may know where another one is!"

The Troll stopped, and the druid could swear he saw it smile.

"Go on.", the Troll croaked.

"According to my research, there are other nodes. Possibly hundreds. But their locations are secrets lost to time. I do think there may be one within reach to someone dedicated to reaching it."

"I'm growing impatient. Less story...more location, or I will be forced to engage in laceration."

The druid stopped.

"A mountain to the north. I'm almost certain there's a node there. I've not been able to investigate it myself though. Too many goblinoids. And their damned king has them far more organized than anyone can believe."

The Troll nodded.

"You have been most helpful."

It then proceeded to plunge its talon through the dwarf's abdomen. It scissored its claws up wards and clutched the lungs and heart of the gasping druid. With a squeeze, the air was forced out and the heart's rhythm was ceased. Death followed quickly.

It allowed the corpse to fall to the cavern floor with a plop. And without giving it a second glance, Morlakash cast the necessary rote to teleport away.

4 years ago...The Goblin-Hold

Morlakash stood before the throne of the Goblin King. He couldn't determine the nature of the creature seated so casually on the throne. Whatever it was, it was sealed from brow to toe in blackened full plate, with a bucket helm. All he saw through the slit in the visor were two gleaming yellow eyes. More points of light, than actual pupils though. His scent was nothing the Troll could place either...yet for some reason it seemed familiar.

"Majesty, I humbly request more...support. The Orcs you placed in my command have all been spent. Mostly due to their own intemperance, or stupidity. As yet, my search has been fruitless. But I am confident that very soon I will find what we seek. The power of the node is within our grasp."

The Goblin King nonchalantly rolled a cannon ball in the palm of his gauntleted hand as he silently contemplated the Troll-wizard's request. After several long minutes, a voice that seemed to radiate from the creature rather than be spoken, and, to the troll sounded like a whisper echoed out from a deep cave, answered.

"You have lost many of my devoted in search of this fabled node. And yet, you unapologetically return, time after time, to beg me for more. My minions grow weary of being relegated as fodder for your endless pursuit. I will grant you ten more followers troll. But know this, if you fail to find what it is you seek, do not return to my court again. What's more, if you prove to have sent my followers to their doom in vane, I will hunt you to the farthest reaches of this world. Your acid bleached bones will decorate my lair, and your treasures will be spent on human whores for the pleasures of my most loyal minions."

He squeezed the cannon ball and it began to melt in his grip.

"Do we understand each other?"

Morlakash nodded, and bowed reverently.

"We understand each other perfectly majesty. I offer you a thousand thanks for your gracious patronage thus far. And I wish you a million times more power than the vast kingdom you already possess."

An echoed laughter radiated from the King.

"Not if I depopulate the one I already have by commanding them to follow you. Now go. Bring me back results."

The Goblin King motioned to a group of Orcs leaning together and laughing gutterally at their own crude humors. At once they came to attention and fell into rank behind the Troll. The entire group were dismissed with a wave of his fingers.

2 years ago.... Somewhere deep beneath the Goblin-hold

"Morlakash! We've found something up ahead. You won't believe it, but it seems to be...."

The Troll-Wizard grabbed the Gnoll scout by the throat and squeezed.

"It seems to be what?!"

The Gnoll struggled free and caught its breath. It rubbed its throat as it answered with contempt.

"It seems to be a city."

The Troll scoffed.

"Impossible. The only sentient creatures down here were banished several thousand years ago. They'd be long dead by now. Not thriving in this sunless place."

The Gnoll growled. Then shoved a spyglass into the Troll's chest.

"See for yourself! You may be the smartest Troll ever, but you're still a fool!"

Morlakash calmly peered through the lenses and growled to himself. As he scanned the site-line, he considered the best order in which to consume this troublesome scout's internal organs. He suddenly saw it.

Despite the incredibility of it, there was most certainly a city there.

Walled, and fortified, same as any surface city. However, the architecture was adapted for this subterranean locale.

Above the city proper, a huge stalactite was obviously excavated, and converted into a formidable looking fortress. This is where Morlakash guessed the city's seat of power resided.

He lowered the spyglass and spoke swiftly to the scout.

"Take a party back through the node, and tell the King what we've found. "

The Gnoll rubbed his claws together.

"A siege? I love a siege."

Morlakash gruffly responded.

"Go! Now! We don't move without the King's knowledge, or support."

The Gnoll scampered off, followed by a few of its brethren, and several goblins.

Meanwhile, Morlakash summoned his other lieutenants.

"We dig in here and maintain a low profile, advance position. If and when the Goblin-King decides we move on that settlement we will be the vanguard. Success or failure will depend on what information we may gather."

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

[iruka-2013]

Fanfic: Winds of Change - Airbending Master (8/11)

Summary: Book 3 AU in which Asami becomes an airbender and goes with Tenzin to the Northern Air Temple, while Kuvira joins Team Avatar. Approx. 46,000 words so far. (Based on this post by Ikkinthekitsune.)

Previous Chapters:

Prologue: New Airbender

Chapter 1: Thief

Chapter 2: Captain of the Guard

Chapter 3: Traitor

Chapter 4: Level Zero

Chapter 5: Earthly Tethers

Chapter 6: The Crew

Chapter 7: Red Lotus, Part 1

My fanfiction master post

An awesome art commission for this chapter by dionysiajones!

Korra shivered as her eyes rested on the cold gray fog outside the airship’s window. Somewhere across hundreds of miles of mountainous wilderness the Air Nation was facing extinction. Again.

Tenzin, Pema, and the kids. Kai and the new airbenders. Asami. I got them into this mess.

 She listened with half an ear as the strategy session behind her dragged into its second hour. “I still say an approach from below is best,” Lin Beifong was insisting

 “Their lava-bender would melt the mountain out from under us,” said Su. “We’d never get near the top.” Korra hadn’t heard Zaofu’s matriarch speak so firmly for days; Su had been deferring more and more to Kuvira since the debacle with Aiwei.  

 “It’s no better attacking from above,” said Tonraq. “The combustionbender would blast us out of the sky.”

 Korra heard Lord Zuko’s voice in her mind: Bringing back the Air Nation was Aang’s biggest dream. He would have done anything to make it happen.

 “Korra.” Kuvira’s voice broke into her thoughts. “You’re the Avatar. You need to be part of this discussion.”

 Korra looked down at her hands, tensed and rigid on the windowsill in front of her. “There’s nothing to discuss, because fighting them won’t work. We all know there’s only one way to save the airbenders now.”

 After an uncomfortable pause, her father spoke. “Korra…”

 She inhaled deeply and squared her shoulders, turning to face her friends. “There’s no other way. We have to give Zaheer what he wants—me.”

 “No.”

 Korra blinked. “Kuvira?”

 The metalbender stood stiff with fury, hands clenched at her sides. “After everything he’s done to my city and my friends, I will not stand by and let Zaheer win.”

 “This isn’t letting him win,” Korra protested. “I’m just saying you can worry about me after the airbenders are safe. The world needs the Air Nation back.” She looked away from Tonraq’s pained expression and swallowed her next words: If things really go wrong, I can be reborn. They can’t.

 Kuvira seemed to read her mind. “You’re no more expendable than the Air Nation is. I have no intention of letting you fall into the hands of these barbarians.”

 “Kuvira, protecting the Air Nation is my duty as Avatar. If there’s even a chance Zaheer might let them go peacefully in exchange for me, I have to try.”

 The captain’s eyes held hers. “First, I wouldn’t trust a monster like Zaheer if he told me the sun rises in the east. Second, you seem to think the decision to surrender is yours alone. Tell me one thing. When the Queen had us imprisoned, you refused to use the Avatar State to escape. Would you use it against Zaheer?”

 “No,” Korra whispered. I’d think of another way out. Any other way.

 “In other words,” Kuvira said flatly, “you’ve already decided to throw your life away by cutting yourself off from your allies and holding back your greatest power against a terrorist who wants you dead.”

 Korra grimaced. “It’s not like that. I just—”

 “I won’t let you put all our lives in danger by walking into a fight you’re determined to lose.” Kuvira turned to her metalbender lieutenant. “Shan, tell the pilot to turn this ship around. We’re going back to Zaofu.”

 Korra stiffened with shock. “What? No!”

 “Kuvira—” Su frowned.

 Kuvira squared her shoulders. “Do I command the Security Force or not?”

 After a moment, Su nodded. “Yes. I trust you, Kuvira.”

 “Good.” Kuvira folded her arms and pinned Korra with a glare. “At least someone does.”

 Fuming, Korra dragged her fingers through her wolftail. “Kuvira, we need to talk. Alone.”

 Zaheer was the first to attack. Her staff spinning, Asami charged forward and met him in the center of the open courtyard where Tenzin had clashed with the three invaders a few minutes before.

 Her watching master and the rest of the world faded away, and she knew only the thundering of her heart and the blur of her staff countering one concussive air blast after another. Zaheer was untrained and unarmed, but what his fighting lacked in finesse it made up for in sheer aggressiveness.

 Step by step, his relentless assault drove her back. She had only seconds to reverse the battle’s momentum before he trapped her against the courtyard wall.

 Gritting her teeth, Asami sharpened air into a wind blade and sent it whipping invisibly toward Zaheer. He threw himself backward, narrowing his eyes. Then his arms came up again, mimicking her movements.

 His attack, though slower and blunter, was unmistakably a second wind blade. Even as she broke its momentum with a slash of her staff, Asami’s blood ran cold. Zaheer had grasped in a few seconds a technique that had taken her weeks to learn.

 Who is this guy?

 He attacked again, grinning like a tiger-shark on the hunt, forcing her to meet the next wind blade halfway lest it slice her staff in two. At last the combustionbender snarled as she summoned fire to her hands and charged into the fight, with Ming-Hua the waterbender close behind.

 Asami swept her staff through the air, ripping a wind blade through the twin jets of fire—noting in a distant part of her mind that the woman’s combustionbending had not yet recovered from the crack on the forehead Kai had given her.

 Spears of ice followed fire; Asami shattered them with a furious backhand swing, spinning beyond her enemies’ reach. From the corner of her eye she spotted Kai peering over the edge of the balcony behind Tenzin, ready to pull the hostages out of danger as soon as she drew the invaders away.

 Asami ran for the edge and vaulted across the gap to the massive curve of the outer wall, sprinting diagonally down the side of the Temple. Grasping the stones with watery appendages, Ming-Hua swung down after her.

 Zaheer’s eyes narrowed as he watched the two women disappear around the curve of the tower. Self-taught airbending had its disadvantages; the Sato girl had clearly learned a few tricks he hadn’t.

 He drew back and turned to P’Li. “She’s leading Ming-Hua to the lower levels. I’ll cut her off. You stay here and guard—”

 He looked behind him and stuttered a halt. All three of his remaining hostages—Tenzin and his two unconscious siblings—had disappeared.

 Monkeyfeathers!

 So the girl had an accomplice. They would have to move quickly. With P’Li on his heels, he sprinted for the stairs.

 All the way to her cabin, Korra fumed. When she had latched the door behind them, she turned on Kuvira.

 “You want to know how much I trust you? I’m going to tell you something only a handful of people know—the Avatar’s weakness.”

 She paused for a deep breath, remembering Tenzin’s warning: “Guard this secret with your life, Korra. Failure to keep it safe would mean the end of the Avatar line.”

 Kuvira needed to understand. Korra steeled herself and forced the words out. “The Avatar State is my greatest power, but it’s also the only way the Avatar can be destroyed. If I died in the Avatar State, the reincarnation cycle would be broken for good. No more Avatar.”

 Kuvira furrowed her brow. “Who else knows about this?” she asked after a pause.

 “My parents.” Korra leaned back against a metal bulkhead, folding her arms. “The head of the White Lotus. Tenzin told me about it. He always warned me to be careful with the Avatar State, but when I finally got access to it, I went way overboard. That cost me big time during Harmonic Convergence. I almost lost everything—Raava, the Avatar Cycle, the whole world. I won’t risk that again, even to save my life. That’s why I don’t break out the Avatar State every time some petty tyrant poses a threat.”

 “It makes sense,” Kuvira admitted, “but I still don’t like it. It’s like going in with one hand tied behind your back.”

 “I don’t have a choice. The world is out of balance without the Air Nation. I need your help to save them, Kuvira.” Her eyes drifted to the porthole. “I never wanted things to turn out this way.”

 Kuvira put a hand on her shoulder. “None of this is your fault. Zaheer is a dangerous fanatic who needs to be stopped. If you can’t fight at full strength, then Zaofu will even the odds and get you and the airbenders out of this alive. I swear it.”

 Korra gave her friend a brief, warm smile, then sighed. “Threatening to wipe out his own people… I know airbenders are supposed be detached, but that’s just crazy.”

 Kuvira didn’t disagree. For a while they stood together in silence, staring out at the swirling mist.

 While P’Li and Ming Hua followed the Sato girl, Zaheer took another route to the lower levels. With luck, he might even head off the hostages and their rescuer.

 Passing a corridor, he was stopped by the sharp, metallic scent of blood. He followed it to its source in the sanctuary and found what was left of Ghazan.

 The lava-bender’s tunic was stiff with reddish-brown crust, and when Zaheer knelt in the congealed blood on the floor and tore open the ruined garment, he saw that Ming-Hua hadn’t been exaggerating. Ghazan’s body had been ripped apart from the inside. It looked as if his lungs had ruptured.

 Had the Sato girl reversed his own favored technique by forcing lethal amounts of air into Ghazan’s body? Too slow. The lava-bender’s death had been violent, messy and—judging from the astonishment frozen on his face—almost instantaneous.

The forbidden art of voidbending. Exactly what we need to destroy the Avatar.

 If the Sato girl knew this technique, why weren’t he and his friends already dead?

 The answer was obvious: She’d been taught to hold back, to use the minimal force necessary. Typical Old Air Nation.

 Zaheer extended two fingers and closed Ghazan’s eyes. Don’t worry, old friend. I’ll make sure your death is not in vain.

 Before he destroyed the Sato girl, he would make her understand what it truly meant to be an airbender. She had introduced an element of chaos into his plans, but the universe had its own purposes.

 Zaheer paused to bow to the molten remnants of Guru Laghima’s statue, then left the sanctuary with a smile on his lips.

 Sprinting across the walls of the Air Temple gave Asami a new perspective on the destructiveness of Zaheer’s attack.

 Courtyards had been melted into reddish-black pools of lava, roofs and walls blasted to rubble. It was as if the entire mountain had been struck by a monster hurricane. The curving wall of the tower that flew past under her feet was one of the few left intact.

 Asami leapt over to what was left of the next tower and charged down toward one of the storage rooms with access to the lower corridors. The ancient airbenders had built several human-sized windows into every wall, but they were no longer needed here, with most of the roof blown away by a combustion blast.

 Darting in through a ragged hole, Asami reoriented herself and skidded to a stop, a cold, sick lump forming in her stomach. The room was a shadowy war zone of wrecked equipment, strewn with debris. The floor was covered with charred splinters and shreds of orange waxed paper—decades’ worth of labor on airbender glider-staves, destroyed in a single day.

 Asami’s nose caught a telltale whiff of rotten eggs. The combustion blasts had damaged the nearby gas lines.  

 The criminals who had caused this chaos would be right behind her. She made for the door, but before she reached it another figure dropped through the missing roof, barring her path.

 She fell into a defensive crouch, then relaxed. “Tenzin.”

 The master strode forward like a towering storm cloud. It was a miracle he could still stand, let alone follow her. Nevertheless, his expression made Asami wonder whether she had been wise to drop her guard.

 “We need to talk,” he growled, twisting the staff from her hands and tossing it to the floor amid the splinters.

 His eyes blazed feverishly in their bruised sockets as he gripped her upper arms. She had seen Tenzin angry many times during her airbending training, but never furious enough to lay violent hands on one of his students.

 “Tell me what you did.”

 Asami swallowed. “What you warned me never to do. I killed one of them.”

 Tenzin’s fingers tightened painfully. “With airbending?”

 “The wind sword,” she answered, wincing. “The air in his lungs—”

 He released her suddenly. “Oh, no.” His surge of adrenaline seemed to wear off all at once, leaving him tottering like an old man. “Your Fire Nation blood… I let myself get complacent. I never thought…”

 “Tenzin, I was defending myself.” Asami’s own voice sounded strange to her. “I kept from being captured, and I helped Kai free the other airbenders. What did I do wrong? Why does my bloodline matter?”

 Her master’s blackened eyes were haunted. “Just as every power has the potential to be used for good or evil, every nation has its own forbidden bending art. Project your chi inside another person, asserting your will over theirs—then scorch their bones, bend their blood, crush their lungs. The ancient airbenders reserved their severest punishments for what you’ve done.”

 Tenzin put his face in his hands. “Balance requires accepting both sides of airbending, the good and the bad. But I should have prepared you better, should have warned you about the choice…”

 Asami felt cold. “Are ancient rules more important than Korra’s life? These people are out to kill her, and they don’t care who gets in the way.”

 “Ancient rules exist for a reason!” Tenzin thundered. “Asami, your actions have put yourself, Korra, and the entire Air Nation in the gravest danger. If being an airbender means anything to you, I want you to swear—”

 He cut off, spotting movement out of the corner of his eye. Zaheer appeared in one of the broken windows, and within moments his two friends joined him—the waterbender through the tower’s opposite window, the combustionbender through the roof—surrounding the two airbenders and pinning their backs against the wall.

 The rogue airbender focused on Asami. His manner was deliberately relaxed. His compatriots followed his lead, blocking the exits but not yet moving to attack. “Asami Sato. You came to this Temple to learn about airbending. Has your master taught you about the greatest airbender of all, Guru Laghima?”

 Tenzin’s voice was grating and hoarse. “If you still want to fight, Zaheer, I’m ready. Leave my student out of this.” As he raised his hands again, Asami could see how blatantly untrue her master’s claim was. He could barely stand.

 Zaheer’s lip curled. “Your time is past, old man. Let the next generation choose its own way.”

 Asami detected a subtle change in his inflection as he began to recite: “‘New growth cannot exist without first the destruction of the old. To destroy the old, one must abandon the world and enter the void. Humans cherish human life, and by that they are bound to this world. Thus, the only way to abandon the world is to abandon one’s humanity.’ You’ve already taken the most important step toward that goal, Miss Sato.”

 “You’re twisting those words,” Tenzin snapped. “Guru Laghima was a peaceful man who would never condone—”

 Zaheer ignored the master. His burning eyes caught and held Asami’s. “When Harmonic Convergence gave me airbending, I knew my friends and I would be the ones to restore true freedom to this world. We are called the Red Lotus. We’ve already decimated the Order of the White Lotus and assassinated the Earth Queen.”

 The Red Lotus. The name tugged at Asami’s memory, but the news of the Queen’s death punched her in the gut. Yes, the woman had had her and the other new airbenders arrested and imprisoned, but this…

 Air is the element of freedom. You and Korra both saw how her rule was wrecking the Earth Kingdom. Zaheer actually did something about it.

“You’ve reinvented an ancient, forbidden art called voidbending—the ultimate airbending technique. With it we can take down tyrannical rulers all over the world, perhaps even rediscover other airbending powers lost for thousands of years. Now you have a choice: Fight to sustain a dying world order, or join the Red Lotus in clearing the way for new growth. The pacifism of the Old Air Nation is outdated and irrelevant to the modern world. The only legitimate use for airbending is to destroy national governments and borders. Only then will we truly attain peace and balance.”

 Hearing some of her own arguments from Zaheer’s mouth, Asami felt a sudden, dizzying sense of déjà vu. She remembered another such crossroads—Korra and the boys at the mercy of the Equalists, and her father’s words tempting her toward violent revolution.

 Last time, she had stood alone. Now, whatever his doubts about her fitness to be an airbender, Tenzin was with her—too exhausted to argue anymore, but fired with determination to keep fighting for what he knew was right.

 For all their differences, he understood Asami as her own father never had. She didn’t regret leaving her life in Republic City to follow him into the strange new world of airbending.

 Study time is over. What kind of airbender are you going to be?

 The rotten-egg smell had gotten much stronger. Asami caught Tenzin’s gaze with a pointed look, and his bruised eyes widened as he noticed the smell and realized that the heavy gas was swirling invisibly around their feet. They needed to get out of here.

 She forced herself to speak calmly to Zaheer. “Tenzin’s teachings aren’t outdated. He’s the greatest airbender in the world, and you’re a monster. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

 Zaheer’s eyes narrowed. “That’s unfortunate. If you won’t join us, then you’re nothing but bait to lure the Avatar into our trap.” His hands began moving. “And you, old man… You’re no use to me at all, except as practice for what I’m going to do to Korra.”

 Asami recognized his bending motions, though she had never seen another person perform them. Nor had Zaheer. He was feeling his way through the movements for the forbidden art he had called voidbending—bending the air inside another person’s lungs, using it to rip them apart.

 Tenzin sucked in a ragged breath as Zaheer’s chi pushed his own battered life force aside and grasped the air in his chest.

 “No!” Asami whipped her arms through the air, preparing to blast Zaheer.

 Ming Hua was ready for her. The water pouring from her sleeves hardened instantly into ice claws that swiped at Asami’s blind side.

 Tenzin threw himself into the gap between them. The sharpened ice caught him across the right side and back, ripping through his robe and cutting deep into the flesh beneath. At the same moment, Asami’s air hammer slammed Zaheer against the broken stone wall. He slumped to the ground, stunned.

 Asami spun toward her master. Tenzin was on his knees, a dark red stain spreading across his robe. Asami’s heart twisted at the sight, and she reached out for her element with a desperation she had felt before only when she’d killed Ghazan.

 Then she stopped herself.

 No—never again.

 The combustionbender was shooting fire from her palms. Asami redirected her own burst of chi to form a swirling shield of air around the two of them, which was engulfed in flames. She dropped to her knees beside Tenzin, maintaining the shield with one arm and trying to pull him up with the other.

 Despite the firestorm outside, an eerie calmness prevailed around the two airbenders. Asami heard Tenzin struggling to speak and bent closer to hear him, ducking under his arm and pulling it across her shoulders. She watched helplessly as red blood suffused the yellow of his tunic.

 “Zaheer’s right… about one thing,” Tenzin gasped. He pulled away from her supporting arm, his fingers groping for something on the ground. He pressed her airbending staff into her free hand, its grain mottled with bloody fingerprints. “The choice must be yours. Make it well, Asami.”

 Asami’s heart rose into her throat. “Weren’t you listening? I made my choice, Tenzin.”

 The protective bubble was collapsing around them. There was no more time for talk, but Tenzin’s mouth quirked upward as his eyes slid closed.

 “Tenzin…” Asami bit her lip. Her airbending had dissipated the flammable gas nearby, but a much greater buildup would be trapped in the corridors, hidden passages, and other pockets beneath the skin of the Air Temple, including the one behind the door at her back. One good combustion blast would blow the tower’s remnants off the mountainside.

 If the Red Lotus noticed the smell at all, they seemed to attach no importance to it. All their attention was on Asami. She let Tenzin’s body slump to the floor and rose in time to air-blast two bending attacks at once.            

 “I’ve got you,” the combustionbender growled. “Let’s see you deflect this!”

 With horror, Asami watched the ephemeral circles of combustionbending form around the woman’s third-eye tattoo. She began spinning her staff furiously, fighting to pull together another air shield around herself and Tenzin. If Kai could deflect a combustion blast at close range, maybe she could too.

  An escalating series of booms ricocheted off the ruined tower walls. The concentrated line of fire lanced through her shield as if it weren’t there, and the staff tore itself apart against it. The door was ripped to splinters, and the gas behind it ignited in a fiery concussion that rippled through Asami’s barrier from behind, flash-burning her skin and tearing her feet from the floor. 

 Her head struck the remains of a crumbling wall, and everything went black.

 Zaheer struggled to his feet in time to see his friends engulfed by the gas explosion.

 P’Li… Ming-Hua…

 The blast ripped a hole in the side of the tower where the door had been. The shock wave shook loose the ancient stones above and below, and the floor disintegrated into a rubble of rocks and splinters, beginning the long slide into the canyon below the Air Temple.

 Before it could take him with it, he pushed off the remains of the wall behind him and lunged for the edge of the cliff, where P’Li crouched at the center of a vortex of firebending. In seconds, the remains of the tower were spread down the cliff face. Tenzin was nowhere to be seen.

 “You little spider-rat!” P’Li screamed as her head came up. “How dare you…!”

 “Where’s Ming-Hua?” Zaheer coughed, smoke stinging his eyes as he peered into the blackened pit that had been a corridor.

 “Ming-Hua!” gasped P’Li. Without waiting for Zaheer, she plunged forward. He followed, extinguishing flames and blowing away smoke as he went.

 They quickly found their comrade, or what was left of her. Her waterbending had been no match for the force of the explosion that had blasted her against the wall, vaporizing hair, clothing and most of the flesh beneath. P’Li paused over her for only a moment before rising to her full, furious height, fists clenched, a wail of grief trapped in her throat.

 Her eyes went to the one place in the hall that hadn’t been burned black—the spot surrounding the singed, crumpled body of the Sato woman.

 Her air shield hadn’t blocked all of the blast. Bits of her hair had melted, her clothes gave off wisps of smoke, and her exposed skin had the crimson color of a bad sunburn, but she stirred faintly and groaned. She was alive.

 P’Li crossed the distance to her in a few huge strides. Before Zaheer could stop her, she had picked up their last hostage with one hand and pinned her by her throat against the soot-covered wall. She raised her other hand in the air and kindled a sheath of flame around her fist, pulling it back to strike.

 “P’Li, stop.” Zaheer gripped her shoulder with blunt fingers. “I promise you, we will avenge Ghazan and Ming Hua. But we need her alive.”

 For a long moment the only sound was P’Li’s ragged breathing. She drew back her lips in a snarl, yanked the airbender forward like a rag doll, and threw her against the wall again. The girl collapsed, limp and unconscious.

 “How alive?” P’Li asked, cracking her knuckles.

 “Enough to give the Avatar nightmares.”

 P’Li laughed bitterly. “I love the way you think, Zaheer.”

[To be continued...]

A/N: Eight months is my longest writing gap yet, at least for this fic, but I hope the finale arc (which has grown from three chapters to four) will be worth the wait. 

Thanks to dionysiajones, whose great work on the art I commissioned of a scene from this chapter helped keep me going during the final stages of finishing the story. 

Comments welcome as always!