#you can't really see it but it has a sand texture

[delta-pavonis]

Fic: Send a Thank You Note

(a continuation from Jo and Hob BFF shenanigans... @teejaystumbles you wanted to know what happens next!)

Dreamling || Rated E (CW/tags: nsft, getting together, this is really just an excuse for a bit of smut, Dream is a smartass (affectionate), bisexual Hob Gadling, just because Dream is on top doesn't mean that he doesn't want to take dick)

"Hob," Dream stops in the shadow between two streetlamps. Perhaps that is why his expression seems darker when Hob turns to him, one eyebrow raised, and nods for his friend to continue. "Was Johanna Constantine accurate in her assessment of your desire for me?"

Hob flushes again. Not quite the shade that Dream had observed on him earlier, but it's close cousin. It is sweet. And probably answer enough. But he waits to hear what Hob would say.

"Ah, well..." Hob meets Dream's eyes despite the butterflies trying to make him turn tail and run. One hand flies up to tug at his ear and Hob feels fifteen shades of 1789 all over again. "She does like to embellish the truth, and it is not like I am beholden to exactly what she said, but it isn't like I am against somethi-" He is stopped by delicate fingers on his jaw.

Dream has stepped into Hob's personal space, knows he is closer than the propriety of this age would dictate, which is exactly his intention. He takes a moment to marvel at the warmth of Hob's skin, its texture from stubble, how it trembles when Hob sucks in a breath through his teeth.

The hiss of air draws Dream's eyes to Hob's mouth in a way that is too heated to be unconscious. Hob has wanted this, to just be touched by Dream, by his Stranger, for so long. He lists forward, he can't help it, and when those fingertips press just a little more firmly into his face Hob swallows hard, licking his lips.

The sound that catches in Dream's throat upon seeing that tease of Hob's tongue should embarrass him. It should. He is a King. He is more than a god. He is Endless.

He, as the current turn of phrase goes, doesn't give a single fuck.

Dream might as well sky-write his intentions in lightning for how slowly he moves forward. Hob feels the anticipation as a physical weight pressing into his chest, restricting his breathing to shallow huffs. Dream's palm slides up to cup the stubbled jaw and he leans imperceptibly closer. They don't even close their eyes, Hob lost in endless blue even as their noses brush and Dream's lips touch the barest bit to his.

Hob is the one who caves, bends like tall prairie grass in the wind, hands grabbing at Dream's coat as he closes his eyes and kisses Dream for all he is worth. If he is only going get one shot, he might as well do it right.

But the answering rumble that comes from Dream - part growl, part purr, part groan - causes something in Hob to snap.

The kiss becomes a battle and before Hob can muster his forces for a second attack, he has backed Dream into a wall with a thud.

He opens his eyes. And sees dark green with very familiar brass numbers.

Not a wall.

Hob has Dream pressed up against his front door. Which was previously three blocks in front of them.

But Dream is still kissing him like the only air he can breathe is in Hob's lungs, so he doesn't have time to worry about it.

Dream takes his hand out of his coat pocket, dropping any remaining grains of sand, and pushes off the door with his hips and shoulders. After a twist, Hob's back hits the door harder than Dream's did, the door knocker rattling and a low moan pouring into Dream's mouth. He grabs Hob's thighs just beneath his ass and hefts, sliding Hob up the flat surface until he is at least a head taller, until he can suck on that tempting throat and feel those moans from the outside.

Hob clings to Dream's neck and shoulders, head falling back and Jesus fuck if he knew being manhandled like this was such a turn on he'd have sought out beefier partners sooner. Then teeth bite into his neck hard and Hob yelps.

"Do not dare think of others whil-" Hob's tongue in his mouth stops Dream from continuing that sentence for a solid two minutes. When they part, he has other priorities. "Daydream of your bedroom."

Dream's voice is a command and Hob immediately has the room in his mind's eye, imagines pushing Dream down into his sheets, crawling over him and then there is a strong breeze and...

It is a simple trick to take the location from Hob's mind, step them into that dreamspace and then from there into its Waking World counterpart.

"Bloody hell." Hob looks around, wide-eyed. When he turns back to Dream his pupils are blown and his mouth sinfully red. "You are going to explain that to me." He looks down, gets distracted, and starts biting at Dream's lips again. "Later. Explain later." They tumble into the bed, completely clothed, shoes still on, and Hob is about to pull away to say something sensible like "We should talk about this first," but then he hears Dream's fingers snap and suddenly there is not a scrap of fabric between them. "Oh, fuck me."

Dream hums, pressing as much of his skin to Hob's as he can manage and still maintain the boundaries of this form. "One of many options." He finds that the hollow above Hob's clavicle tastes lovely when sweat beads there, laps it up in long swipes that make the human beneath him shudder. "Is that what you would prefer?"

"Oh god," Hob wraps a leg around Dream's hip and grinds them together. "Anything." He repeats the motion and they both groan. "Everything. Yes."

Hob's incoherence strokes Dream's ego and he preens as he sits up, straddling Hob's thighs. The distance allows him to take in Hob's wrecked state, his mussed hair and flushed cheeks and sweat-damp chest. Their cocks brush against each other and Hob hiccups out a groan. When he wraps a hand around Hob the human arches and wails, clawing at Dream's thighs.

Dream knows what he wants, gives a thought to preparing this body for it, adding oil to make slick body parts that are not usually so. He lets go of Hob's dick and crawls forward, one hand on Hob's chest. "While I do abhor proving a Constantine right..." he reaches back and grabs the base of Hob's cock.

"Fuck! Dream we haven't oh Christ you are wet and open." Hob goes from alarm to awe to ecstasy in half a heartbeat, so quickly he feels dizzy. Then Dream starts to sink down and Hob holds on to bony hips for dear life as he watches his cock disappear into Dream's body. When Dream is fully seated Hob falls back into the pillows with a sob. "Dream. How?"

He plays with Hob's chest hair, runs nails over a peaked nipple, as he speaks. "I am the Shaper of Forms, Hob. I can take whatever form you, or I, need. Or want."

Hob tries to process that for a minute, staring up at the ceiling. "You... we are going to need to have a looong conversation after this because otherwise my bi ass is going to lose my job for not showing up for the next three weeks."

Dream laughs, a rumbling chuckle that Hob actually feels in his cock. "What a shame it would be," he starts rocking his hips, dropping down on just about every word, making Dream's speech keep time with the fucking, speeding up as he goes, "for you to be jobless. To have so much free time. Whatever would you do with yourself?"

"Alright, you sassy minx," Hob snaps his hips up as he pulls Dream's hips down and there, that made the eldritch being in his lap really moan. He repeats the motion until they have a rhythm, until they are lost to it. "Close," Hob whispers too soon, "I can't..."

Dream drives himself down harder and relishes Hob's cry. "We can strive for stamina later," he takes one of Hob's hands and wraps it with his own around his cock, fucking into the channel made between their palms. "Come for me, Hob. Please."

It is the please that does it, makes Hob arch and roar and come so hard he almost-

And then Dream's hand clamps down with his, what Hob would have thought would be painfully tight around his lover's cock, and his pale, lithe body, too, arches and then clenches so fucking tight around Hob that it stretches his orgasm longer, pulls more semen from his body in an impossible, lava-hot rush.

Dream watches as his own spend shoots up onto Hob's neck and face and even into his hair. Their is an additional frisson of pleasure that runs through him that he has marked Hob in such a way. He reaches up and smears some of it onto Hob's lips, who sucks at it greedily with a little whine.

Hob pulls Dream down onto the bed, a quiet grunt as his soft cock leaves his lover's body. His lover. They are on their sides, facing each other, and Hob's hand finds Dream's on his hip, tangles their fingers together. The silence that falls between them is warm with smiles and humid breaths.

"Hob, I know that humans do not always..." Dream frowns, gathers his words, and tries again. This is always where the Prince of Stories trips up, when trying to tell his own. "I realize that acting on physical attraction is not an indication of romantic intent. I would know your intentions, if only to moderate my own actions accordingly."

It takes a second for all that to filter through Hob's sex-addled brain, for him to parse the meaning of so many multisyllabic words, but when he gets it Hob can feel his eyebrows knitting. He traces Dream's cheekbone back to behind his ear and further to cup his skull and bring their foreheads together. "Listen carefully, my Dream," Hob hears his friend's breath hitch at that and he smiles, "Yes, as I have recounted the last one-hundred and thirty odd years to you it has probably been clear that I have been what most would characterize as a shameless slut. But if anything could temper me..." Hob takes a shaky breath. "I have wanted to approach you with romantic intent since June 8, 1489, when I realized how long, truly, it would be until I could see you again. So no moderation is needed, dove." He kisses Dream once, just a chaste press of lips. "Because I want all of you."

Dream surges forward and over Hob, gripping the strong muscles of his neck as they open to each other. They part because they are both grinning too widely, laughter too close to the surface, for their mouths to easily fit together.

"Oh gods," Hob giggles, "I am going to have to tell Jo."

"About that," Dream hums, all imperiously satisfied smile, "I might have let images of our, ah, activities filter into her dreams."

"Oh no, Dream. You didn't!" Hob is overcome with a fit of guffawing laughter that doesn't slow until his diaphragm hurts. "Are you telling me that you sent her the metaphysical equivalent of a picture of us in bed?"

Dream lets himself be distracted by the movement of Hob's neck, by tasting the curves of the muscles of his shoulders. "Perhaps."

Hob lapses into a fit of giggles again. "She is going to kill you."

"I would like to see her try." Hob can feel Dream smile into his skin. "Because I have a feeling if she truly has ill-intent then she will have to get through you first."

Hob laughs again, fingers tugging at Dream's hair until their eyes meet. "Aye, you are probably right, love. You are probably right."

[oneatlatime]

The Desert

Alternate title: Gimme Appa back.

"But I believe, Aang can save the world." no pressure kid.

I had completely forgotten about these two chuckleheads. For once the 'Previously On' segment is useful rather than spoilery.

Ok Aang is going to get the world's biggest pass this episode, because he's in the suckiest of all situations. But even so, how exactly was Toph supposed to come and get them, when she was both actually blind for once and the only reason the library hadn't drowned them yet?

Aang has something of a history of running away. Does going after Appa count as running away from his friends?

Zuko's theatre kid tendencies are genetic.

The way Iroh said "What Now?" you know he was actually saying "fuck's sake."

Zuko's hair seems to grow very quickly. I thought that I could use his hair growth to measure time passing but this is not tracking. He barely had a buzz cut in The Chase and now he's fluffy.

Two things: a) this guy has eyes greyer than Aang this episode. b) He's cocking his hands like that ridiculous Henry Cavill scene from Mission Impossible where he cocks his biceps.

This guy's spear has piercings. And is coming out of a Dragon's mouth.

I don't know that I'd call these guys legendary. They're zero for two against an Avatar in Drag and two starving refugees with three functioning arms.

Doesn't Katara ever change out her water? Or even use it up and have to refill it?

I said it last episode, and I'll say it again: why did five people, a lemur, and a ten tonne sky bison travel into a desert famous for its desertiness with only a single water pouch between them? Admittedly, if they'd brought extra water and left it on Appa, they'd be having the same problem, but still...

Is a kids' show actually going to go there?

They actually went there!

Honestly if you're dying of dehydration in the desert, eating strange plants is absolutely the way to go. I'd rather trip my way into the afterlife than just shrivel up and die.

I love the way Aang's glider shadow moves over the dunes. Another one of those tiny details that the animators could have left out, but they didn't!

Sand benders must get crazy high speeds if Aang can't spot even a trace of Appa from up high. He wasn't Appa-napped very long ago.

Everyone go watch the scene where Aang blows up the mushroom cloud. Go right now I'll wait. And pay attention to Sokka's mouth. It does the wave.

His mouth does the wave and his arms do the worm. Someone really had fun this episode.

Zuko breaking the world record for highest number of Fire Nation wanted posters. Despite being the only person on that board who's unquestionably loyal to the Fire Nation. What a nice reward he got for his loyalty.

How is that one wrestler dude's hair so shiny?

Why, other than plot convenience, would Zuko and Iroh be at the Ice Spring?

I see now that the left hand shadow is Sokka with a Momo on his head. But for just a second I thought it was Ramona from Scott Pilgrim.

There are some really beautiful colour gradients in this desert.

"We won't survive without Appa." Well yes, but you have to try.

If this is a normal desert they're going to freeze their butts off overnight.

No comment. Just vibes.

Hey this is a Katara episode! Toph is blind, Sokka's zoinked, Aang's given up, so it's Katara time baby!

This episode has no business being this pretty.

"Sokka. I was there." I'd be very surprised if Katara's voice actress doesn't have an idiot older brother. That line was delivered a little too perfectly.

I'm not going to comment on every Sokka is high joke, but rest assured I'm finding them all hilarious.

Those drinks cost a gold piece each. Where did they get five gold pieces from?

Colour me shocked. The chuckleheads actually had a good idea for once.

Colour me shocked again! I vaguely predicted this!

Zuko. Honey. How are you this dim? He's so very good at missing exactly what's in front of him.

"Gold?"

Big muscles. No brains.

Very pretty. The sand texture is good too.

Well that was mean.

Passive aggressive glider deployment. Also how low is that cloud if Aang can reach it to bend it?

Aang is not shining this episode (understandably) but Katara is going from strength to strength. I NEVER would have thought that she was someone who could keep her cool under pressure like this. Happy to be wrong!

I have no idea if Sokka is going to remember or be aware of this epic trip he's on, but this is probably the best time he's had in months. Certainly since Yue died. He deserves this. Bad timing, but he needed a break.

"You must forgive my nephew. He is not an initiate, and is dumb as shit and incapable of reading the room."

Why is there a flower shop in the middle of the desert? What clients do they have? Obviously it's a front for this pai sho secret society thing, but why did they pick such a nonsensical front?

Toph has so much personality that it's easy to forget how tiny she is. Like a little gargoyle.

Sokka talking like a Greaser was the thing I didn't know I needed.

Poor Katara. Now you know how your brother feels every time he has to save your bacon from your weekly prison break.

I am losing my mind over these colours. Especially after The Library.

"I have a natural curiosity." I'm going to start using that.

Oops they found the circle bird nest.

Hey showrunners, you're going to take Momo from me too? You sure you want to do that? After last episode? Don't give me a pretty sunset with a latte swirl. Give me back Appa, put down Momo, or I'll sic Toph on you.

I do like Toph as a piece of artillery.

Turns out a combined Appa and Momo -napping is what it takes to get Aang to break his no killing rule. I now know how to defeat the Fire Lord.

The Audacity. Going to Ba-Sing- however the hell that's spelled. The sheer audacity. But then what? What's the plan after they get there? Just live the rest of their lives?

Rejected Mortal Combat guy.

You ever have one of those days where you do only your top lip?

Whoever made that door, and that lock - good job!

Nothing to see here, just making a delivery of two giant planters in the middle of the desert. The Owl decided to spruce up his entryway.

Y'all are fucked. Y'all deserve it. Aang has completely lost control. He's spent the whole episode losing it more and more and now he's gone completely off the rails. Has he ever zipped into the Avatar state that fast before?

Never underestimate the power of a woman who's fed up with everyone's nonsense. Just so fed up.

Well that was sad.

Badass name of the day: Malachi Throne, voice of a character whose name I don't recognise.

Final Thoughts

This was Katara's episode. I'm not going to forgive not getting Appa back, but Katara actually keeping a level head for once was an unexpected delight.

This episode was pretty unrelentingly heavy in the A-plot, which is why I don't understand why Sokka and Momo tripping worked so well. It did work, and I very much enjoyed it, but it should have stuck out like a sore thumb and it didn't. The beat up Sokka quota fulfillled from within by chemicals was a nice creative touch.

I am very happy to see Iroh take the wheel, although I'm not convinced there's a long term plan here beyond get food and shelter. Which, fair enough, goals tend to be short term and immediate when you're in dire straits.

This episode really stomped all over Aang. And then stomped some more. I was surprised how negative and shouty he was at the beginning, but by the end I was surprised how long it took him to lose it. Apart from his staff and his clothes, Appa really is all he has left from before he got frozen. That sandbender punk was rotten to the core.

So I guess we're going to the earth kingdom capital regardless of the eclipse information. Is the rest of the season going to be getting there? I also can't help but notice that it's where Iroh and Zuko are headed as well. Zuko could actively run in the direction opposite to the Avatar and he'd still end up tripping over him. The earth Kingdom is ginormous. And yet, like every two episodes Zuko runs into the Avatar. Is it fate? Is it plot convenience?

I should dislike this episode. It's 24 minutes of our faves getting beat down and not finding Appa, with a b-plot of Zuko being more oblivious than usual. I should dislike it, but I don't. This is definitely going on the rewatch list. It was a very pretty episode, which helped. Beyond that I can't put into words why I liked it, but I did!

[jacksdinonuggets]

Blake And Autism

I'm not sure if i've said this before but Blake has autism. He was diagnosed in his preteens after his hell school counselor recommended he get tested (Yes, he currently is a dropout). Apparently his parents knew he was autistic from a young age but never told him because they thought it was just a phase he'd grow out of. Just to be clear, his parents didn't accommodate his needs. They used the method, "Out of sight, out of mind". -He does a lot of masking. When he first met Charlie, he tried to mask so hard, trying to seem "Normal" -after a couple of meltdowns, he had to tell the group. They didn't mind though. a lot of the other little's had it too! -He has a limited emotional battery. if he gets way too drained, he starts to slip and go into meltdown mode. -his meltdowns are very tantrumy. He will scream, cry, and pout. though they do get self-destructive. he will bite and scratch himself, as well as pull at his hair. -He has special interests. one being dinosaurs! He loves all kinds of dinosaur things and has recently taken a liking to pirates -he has issues with sensory stuff, which is why he'll mostly just be in a diaper and t-shirt. -surprisingly, he doesn't mind being wet (when it comes to diaper stuff). one of the main reasons he uses it is to self-soothe. He'll poke and squish it sometimes, liking the way it crinkles or squishes. Charlie or Hez will give him a crinkle blanket or cube, since they don't want him touching it too much (germs and stuff). -he'll spend hours doing sensory play, though he's not a big fan of sand. He does enjoy water though. the way it splashes and the weird density and pressure it has. -He'll often get obsessive over small things (you can see it in his journal entrees). he gets really worried about what others think. -his stuffed animals have to have this certain texture or he can't use them. -he gets confused easily and won't understand tones. sometimes he'll try to understand what a person is thinking and accidentally makes accusations. (That's all for now!)

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 15 of Nona the Ninth

I wonder just how literal this actually is

I don't know that someone watching you like that necessarily means you're being protected in this city. So if this is about the Angel, what does Hot Sauce think Nona pretending to talk into a radio had to do with it?

I wonder if something has happened to Camilla and Pyrrha, like BOE didn't actually take them back to the apartment, or something? I would think that with Corona there nothing bad would happen, but who knows

Things Nona likes to eat:

Sand

Leaves

Ice cubes

Pencils

I'm not really seeing a pattern here with organic/inorganic or any kind of consistent textures she likes, but so far her likes do seem to be mainly texture-based rather than taste-based or something like that

I would think they were burning them because of some superstition that that was how they had to be killed, but I guess it's just because they want them to suffer? And even though burning is how they dispose of all bodies now, there are people who think necromancers can't be killed that way? At any rate, it seems unlikely that anyone will suspect Pyrrha's real reason.

It's interesting, when I read this back in Chapter 11:

I didn't initially get that Pyrrha had killed them, it was only when I reread the chapter again to do the writeup that I realized it. And at the time I was like, man, I'm glad I reread the chapter, because I'm super dumb and wouldn't have figured this out otherwise, but now I see that we're probably not meant to realize that Pyrrha killed them until right now in Chapter 15. Doing this as a liveblog and not letting myself read ahead until I've written something about the previous chapter has really had this effect where I figure out so many more things than if I were just reading it normally by myself. I don't know how much engagement I'd get if it were some other book that's less tumblr-famous, but honestly, this seems like a great way to read books to me

So I think Nona is definitely translating people's names automatically, and they must be using a language here that is different from whatever language Born in the Morning's name is actually in. The names Nona has used that don't seem to be translations so far are, if I've kept track right, are Camilla, Palamedes, Pyrrha, Judith, Kevin, and Joli. Presumably the main characters' names remain the same regardless so that the book is not completely confusing, but also I don't think these characters who only speak House would know the original languages that their names are in, and as I stated earlier, presumably Kevin doesn't know Irish. I wonder what Joli is supposed to mean, in what language? But I do note here that Hot Sauce doesn't correct her about Honesty's name, so Honesty's name may actually be in the language they are currently speaking. I don't think it was ever established what language they primarily speak at the school? Obviously the teachers have to be speaking to Camilla and Corona in House, but I somehow doubt that Honesty's name would be a House word

Right, I think someone told me this earlier, but this is where it's actually revealed in the text

I wonder if Nona fully realizes that Hot Sauce and Pash and the other people who hate the "zombies" consider Palamedes and Pyrrha part of that group? It seems like she should, but then she also says things like this

So I guess this is why they check to see if Camilla and Pyrrha and Nona are alive, because they are worried that they might put them in the car and then some off-screen necromancer explodes their bodies?

You know, I know the Nine Houses aren't great, but I think that might be a war crime, actually

So I would have thought that the Secret was going to be Nona's secret healing abilities, which she's talked about having to keep secret multiple times now, but this seems to be something else, something related to not having some organ? Obviously not a life-critical one, or Hot Sauce would assume there was some necromancy going on. But what non-life-critical organ could Harrow be missing, or did it go missing when she was revived by Pyrrha? It is true that Lyctors can't regrow organs

[rubberduckyrye]

Any other headcanons you have for the twins?

I basically post them as I come up with them, but let's see!

I HC that both the twins are really bad at drinking regular water. Sparkling water or soda or DEATH.

Rochi probably loves boba tea! Chewy boba good texture.

On that note I think the twins would make sparkling tea with boba. I bet that ends very well for them, totally.

They both love bubbly coffee!

Okay but I feel like it would be funny if Rochi was a bit of a boba addict. Adds boba to all of his drinks. Kokichi likes his boba but he's more of a soda addict. Both twins tease each other relentlessly about the different textures they prefer.

When Kokichi was a baby he'd chew on socks fresh from the laundry basket. I imagine that Rochi ate sand at the beach. Keep these two babies from putting weird things in their mouths!

Despite the fact that both twins can eat at the same pace, if Kokichi eats too fast, he gets hiccups. Rochi teases him relentlessly like "Awww my baby brother's got hiccups~"

Kokichi can and has shoved Rochi off of couches and chairs for this

Especially when they were little, Kokichi and Kurochi would rough house, play tag, play hide and seek, whatever--ofc not at Kenzo's, but they had a lot of games to play once they were out of that house.

Rochi is still a big mama's boy. I imagine he gets shy around maternal figures in his life, like in a little kid wanting something but being afraid to ask for it kind of shy.

Both of the twins are geniuses by their own right--Kokichi with social and psychological aspects, and Kurochi with mathematics and problem solving.

Fun fact: This was a thread that never got ficified, but both Kokichi and Kurochi got crushes on Jaden when they were but babies. They fought over him and made Jaden cry. They never fought over any boys ever again.

I think when Kokichi was little, before he became the leader of D.I.C.E., he wanted to be a pilot. Not for an airline, but an independent pilot. Rochi wanted to be a super awesome secret spy.

Both twins chug random liquids to freak other people out for fun. Extracts are a favorite, but I can't imagine that it ends well for them.

and finally: both of the twins can be really big bed hogs. They just got so used to each other hogging the bed that they just kind of lay on top of each other when the other one is hogging the bed. They only do this when they feel safe and comfortable though--otherwise, when anxious, they tend to take up less of the bed, and are more prone to cuddle whoever is lying in bed with them.

[kalak]

Luke on Hoth. Luke sees miles and miles upon snow and ice stretching out and assumes that it has the same consistency as the sand dunes from tatooine.

That's not the case, obviously, but luke is fascinated by the texture and the clumpiness of snow; you can't really mold sand into structures without some moisture and you didn't go around dumping water on the ground on tatooine. (in fact, I think Luke would have been gobsmacked by the fact that you can build sand castles and massive sculptures out of the stuff when he goes to a beach for the first time)

He has fun with shaping and decorating little snowmans - han gets the idea of building a real life sized replica of the falcon; he knows his ship so well that he can do it with his eyes closed, he insists - they end up with a massive snow frisbee.

And then Luke finds out about snowball fights - its all downhill from there. Luke and Han acquire the high ground by climbing up on the massive snow frisbee, and they accumulate a frankly insane amount of snowballs; Luke keeps lifting and shaping additional snow with the force so they never run out of ammo. It all ends when an enraged Chewie drags Han down by the scruff.

What Luke didn't expect however, is that snow melts. After the fun is over and they make it back into the warmth of rebel base, all the snow that has settled into the nooks and crannies of luke's attire melts, Luke feels a certain burning sensation on his skin due to the tempature difference of in and out, and wow, this is terrible. Leia harshly reprimands them both and then ushers Han and Luke to make them hot chocolate.

[darkfictionjude]

If not spoilers can we have some facts about Magenta life?

Here’s a fact:

There’s not really much to tell about her life before she came to Hollywood, she was raised in farmland. The first time she kissed a girl was when she was 12. She ran away.

In Hollywood there’s a bit more. Today she would likely be diagnosed with some form of autism. To counteract her sensory issues she was gifted pink satin gloves by the director of her first movie she did when she was 17, and she’s bought more ever since. She lives farther from most other stars, outside of LA. She married again to a big Hollywood producer but when you meet her she’s no longer with him. That fight she had with Mary Pickford was started by her, deathly afraid of water and so has never been to the beach in LA plus she can’t stand the texture of sand

[nine-of-words]

No Vacancy (Part Six - END)

M Orc x M Merfolk Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG

Wordcount: 4035

Content Warnings: Spawning, Slit Fucking, Anal Sex (Reader Bottoms)

It’s actually finished~ If you made it here, then sincerely, thank you so much for reading! It’s made me really happy to see the same handful of names trickle into my notifications as each part was posted. Hopefully I’ll see some familiar names for the next story I post here, too. :)

You wake up with the sun in your eyes, and the texture of coarse, pebbly sand against your back. Cool waves lap against your partially submerged flank in a gentle rhythm. A small crab that was investigating you scuttles away, escaping from the tide rolling in.

…Right. After you reached the end of your stamina last night, you fell asleep on a sandbar.

You had wordlessly taken the contract from Varuj and ripped it to shreds, leaving its finely torn pieces to disintegrate in the ocean.

Then, you took off like a torpedo.

You had swam and swam, as fast as you could muster and as far as you could go, fueled by nothing but your unbridled rage.

Surely it was all some kind of trick- that the rune previously stamped on your back would still trip some sort of alarm when you crossed an arbitrary boundary. 

But it never did.

You still kept swimming until the buzz of anger in the back of your head subsided; the physical act of pushing your body to its limit is always a reliable way for you to work off any overwhelming negative feelings.

You swam so hard that you were far over the border before you realized- 

The rune is really gone. Your debt is really gone.

…You're free.

Sure, it may have taken you swimming all the way to the western Zephyric Ocean in a belligerent fugue to finally let that sink in, but you got there eventually.

Freedom from your pervasive debt has brought every bit of peace of mind as you had hoped for, now that you’ve worked off the initial anger and sense of betrayal.

But even laying here in this beautiful and serene tropical beachscape, you can't help but already feel a bit bored.

You want to be moving. You need to be doing something. You need a goal. Stagnancy has never been your style.

The question remains: what are you going to do now?

Going back to your family isn’t an option for you. You refuse to show up and be used as a scapegoat for another one of their debts. You’d rather be alone than used.

But as far as purely sea-faring Merfolk like yourself are concerned, the only real requirement for life is being able to catch or forage enough food to sustain yourself - something you're fully capable of doing. Everything else is ultimately a luxury.

So, the world is your oyster. You can do anything you want, really. It's not as if you don't have options.

You can always go back to courier work - the honest, above-board kind you did before getting wrapped up in pirate business. Or, you could always pivot into one of the other various aquatic based vocations. Or, you could just take the opportunity to travel with nothing tying you down…

But what is it you actually want with your newfound freedom?

A slow sigh filters out from your lips, and you compact the damp sand underneath your webbed hands in thought.

Deep down, you know there’s already somewhere you’d like to be. It's just a question of how long you're going to be stubborn and deny it to yourself.

Or… you could just skip that step altogether. The trip here was more than enough self-reflection for you.

Moreover, it's already a week into Spawn and you haven’t mated with your partner even once, and your body isn’t very pleased about it.

You slowly move off of the sandbar and into deeper water.

The trip back to the Indra-Thalassic is one of a much more leisurely pace. It’s sort of nice to swim languidly through the water column for a change. Instead of trying to keep a tight schedule to make a looming deadline.

Taking a more leisurely pace outside of tunnel-vision allows you to notice so many more things. It feels weird to think about, but the way you’ve been rushing from place to place the last five or so years, you haven’t really stopped to notice much of anything. You haven’t had the time.

So, the sea moss growing on a long-capsized vessel catches your attention. So do the different shapes and textures of an expansive coral reef that you’ve rushed by countless times before. So does the shimmer of a particularly large school of bait fish, whose scales reflect light filtering from above in every color of a prism. What once might have been annoying obstacles or something you didn’t give any thought to are now opportunities to slow down and enjoy a pleasant moment, for no other reason than to experience it.

You only become more convinced of your own conviction to return as you continue the journey back- but there's still the question if Varuj will even accept you when you get there. You didn't exactly leave on great terms.

You'd be lying to yourself if you claimed you weren't gutted by the thought of him turning cold on you now, after everything…

The closer you get, though, the more of a yearning, aching tug in your abdomen there is. Even if you wanted to turn around because you doubted Varuj’s desire to see you, you find yourself continuing on. You’re spawnlocked to him, after all, and the need is too big for you to just ignore.

Finally, the familiar shape of the keel of Varuj’s ferry becomes visible in the distance, seemingly stationary. You find yourself slowing to a gradual stop as you get closer- not even the dull thrum of the need to Spawn in the background pushing you towards the boat is enough to override your overwhelming sense of shame. At the same time, the pull of tremendous lust is only getting more intense the longer you stay this close, yet out of reach. 

You don’t think you’ve agonized about boarding any other boat even a fraction as much as you have this one. Even having to return to Uttar’s ship after each job didn't make your nerves wind this tightly.

This time there seems to be a plausible reason to stall though, as it sounds like Varuj is having a conversation with Rosing on the edge of the lower deck. Nothing seems too out of place, though they are anchored pretty far from shore, though that might be due to the clearly over-crowded port visible on the horizon. 

“... be safe.”

“...don’t overwork… hot out…”

Whatever they’re saying doesn’t carry quite far enough for you to make out clearly, but going off of the snippets you do hear and their body language, it seems to be a departure. 

Your assumption is almost immediately proven right when Rosing hops off the lower deck with a waterproof pack on her back, quickly swimming off towards the harbor.

Is she going to swim the whole way to port? The old lady must be more fit than you thought…. As if she could hear your thoughts she stops dead in the water, turning her head to lock membrane-shielded eyes with you.

What the…

Before you can comprehend what to even do in this situation, she gestures to her eyes and then back at you, and then points forcefully to the boat with the sternest look you've ever seen her give, which is saying something.

Her pink frills flare out and you don't need to be fully fluent in kobold variety of sign get the message she spells out:

<Fix your mess.>

If you weren’t generally on friendly terms, you would be truly terrified. 

You're shocked motionless for a few seconds, then slowly nod. Seemingly satisfied, she nods back, then turns to continue her swim towards the harbor until the distance swallows her form.

You’re… going to get on the boat. You’re going to swim right up and climb onto the lower deck like a civilized person and talk to the man you love like it’s a normal conversation and like you haven’t been acting on raw, wild emotion for the last full day.

…Any minute now.

What started as somewhat cowardly lollygagging turns into more captivated observation. From your adjusted position treading water, you now have a clear view of Varuj working on the boat.

He’s dressed in a way you’ve only seen him a handful of times, usually when there’s no one else on the boat but you and Rosing, and it’s a sweltering, humid day like today; a brightly patterned orange lungi tucked up on itself, and nothing else.

He seems to be doing some general maintenance; he’s scrubbing the floors with a deck brush, his broad pecs and arm muscles contracting and stretching with each stroke. It's hard to not let your mind wander back to the last time they were wrapped around you.

The persistent warmth spreading across your stomach is hard to ignore now, as is the throbbing growing more overt by the minute.

The last vestiges of your anger at him you were holding onto ebb away as you watch him go about his work. The small quirks in his behavior shine through even when no one's around to see, and it only makes the smitten feeling that much worse.

By time he appears satisfied with his cleaning job, he's sporting a sheen from the effort, the ruddy undertone of his dark skin accentuated by the exertion.

Varuj approaches the closest edge of the lower deck. You wonder for a moment if he's spotted you, but the angle doesn’t seem like it’d be possible for him to see you in your position off to the side.

“Whew-” He wipes the sweat from his brow, looking out from the open ocean-facing side of the ferry for a few moments.

Seemingly finding nothing, he heaves a long, drawn out sigh.

Then he begins to undo the gathering of fabric around his waist.

Your gills stop pumping on their own momentarily in anticipation, though it feels a bit silly when you realize it. It's not like you haven't seen him naked before…

Regardless, as soon as the colorful fabric is parted and falls aside, every other thought empties from your brain. Your pupils constrict in intense focus.

After scanning the horizon one more time, Varuj steps off the deck and plunges into the water feet first with a splash.

And then, you’re face to face underwater. If his eyes weren’t screwed closed to keep the salt water out, he’d suddenly be staring you down, just out of reach.

You’re struck with intense concern for a moment- What is he thinking?!- but then he swims back up to the surface. You follow him up without even thinking about it, rising chest and shoulders out of the calm waves.

“Haah!” He lets out a deep, chesty bellow of air in relief as he breaks the water, spraying a mist of droplets in front of him. He splashes a handful of cool water across his face and scrubs it in, then slicks his hair back. The now wet gold studs in his ears and nose glitter in the sunlight.

Your blood pumps audibly in your ears. Your skin tingles with barely contained arousal.

He’s too close now. 

You can’t take it anymore.

And just as you’re losing your hold on yourself, he lowers his hands and opens his eyes. 

There’s a moment of utter bewilderment at the whole person suddenly in the water in front of him, but then the light of recognition quickly appears in his eyes.

The tenuous grip you still had on your restraint snaps. You access your full swimming speed and close the distance between your bodies before he can open his mouth to speak. Your already spawn-elongated fins stiffen and fan out in excitement. 

You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms over his yoke. You grasp him by the base of the neck and crush your lips against his, barely avoiding getting a mouthful of ivory.

When he recovers from the initial shock, you feel one hand grab your waist underwater, the other arm assumingly working double-time to keep him floating.

His lips taste like salt and his thick hair feels good gripped against the webbing between your fingers. You bring your other hand to hold his jaw, and keep ravenously kissing him like you need it to live- your gills filtering the water you’re still half submerged in- and you suddenly remember that he quite literally does need air to live. You abruptly break off, though it’s extremely difficult to pull your mouth off of his.

“Oh- hi,” He takes a large lungful of air and laughs when you part. A wide, surprised grin appears between his curved tusks, and water still drips down the bridge of his nose. “That’s…That’s certainly a way to say hello.”

“I-Hah- Fuck it, we can talk later-!” You groan and dig your fingers into his shoulder, pressing more desperate kisses to his neck and chin, stubble pricking your lips. “Right now- I need you!”

“Okay- Mmph-” Varuj says, half into your mouth as you keep kissing him through his words. “Let’s get out of- Mmf- the water-”

He has a point. You’re very fit, but you don’t think you have the strength to support a fully grown, densely built orc man in open water without the risk of drowning him, especially not in your current mindless, urgently horny state.

Varuj breaks away from your grasp just long enough to hoist himself back up onto a sitting position on the lower deck. You can barely wait for him to get situated further aboard before you leap out after him, sloshing a surge of seawater over the deck as you go and knocking Varuj onto his back in the process.

He lets out a slight grunt when the air is knocked out of him and sits back up halfway, but you can’t stop now. You plant yourself between his slightly spread legs, supporting yourself with either hand on the deck beside his torso. 

You lean down to kiss him, feverish and unrelenting, pressing yourself to him.

Varuj’s fingers thread through your braids and find the sensitive spot behind your facial fins, holding you firmly for leverage while his tongue struggles with yours. Teeth press gently into the spongy tissue of your tongue and the soft give of your bottom lip. 

You rub your swollen slit against his already half-hard cock, further coaxing it to stand. The movements are no longer fully under your control now, instead purely driven by lustful instinct to mate.

Even this is almost too much for you in your overstimulated state. Each slippery, supple drag and glide causes the many nerves in that area to send jolts of thrill directly down your spine. Every deep seated groan uttered into your mouth rumbles against your chest. 

It feels too good- the simple fact that it’s him is almost overwhelming in its correctness.

Finally feeling a sufficient level of stiffness against your warm, pinked stomach, you raise your chest and stomach off of him, freeing up a clear view of where your flank is pressed against his groin. You split your vent with the fingers of one hand. Now lacking any resistance, your cock, almost insultingly agreeably, quickly slides out from the top portion of your slit, past the purple webbing between your index and middle finger.

You knew being spawnlocked was why you were having such trouble before, but it’s still giving you an incredible vindication to see hard evidence with your own eyes that it’s indeed the case.

You’re not defective. You’re just in love with him.

Varuj's hands find the sides of your flank, gripping you in expectation. A shuddering sigh seeps out of your mouth at the supportive pressure of his fingertips on your body.

"Aah-" He watches intently down the hirsute surface of torso as you catch his flushed, glistening cockhead in the squishy cleft of your vent.

Assured that you’re lined up correctly, you switch your attention to watch Varuj’s facial expressions twist in pleasure as you work.

He lets your name spill out on a reverent exhale, and his cock starts to easily disappear inside of your drenched slit as you sink yourself down his length.

You take him all the way to the hilt. Grinding your pelvis down against his as far as it can go, you can feel the metal piercings at his cock's base. They roll over the thin, sensitive membrane between the underside of where your cock rises from and the rim of your hole, making you shudder.

You shamelessly chase more of the feeling, lifting yourself to plunge back down and hit the spot that’s making your voice hitch in your chest over and over again.

“Nngh-” Varuj thrusts up into you, meeting your movements as well as he can, being pinned to the deck by your weight. Any remnants of politely waiting for you to do what you like seem to fall away, with his strong grip helping to force you back down after each rise.

You’re already barely hanging on when Varuj moves one hand from his hold on the round of your lower hip, and instead wraps it around your quivering dick. He starts to stroke you at a relentless pace, clearly only one goal in mind and not wasting any time getting there.

You’re stunned rigid, muscles locking up, dazed- and completely unwind in a blur. Varuj’s hand continues to pump you through, not seeming to not notice, or at least not mind, that you’re shooting directly across his abdomen.

An almost euphoric sense of relief washes over you, all of the hot sting of this wave of biological need purged from your body now that you’ve gotten the release you were seeking.

Varuj continues to jab upwards into you, and you continue to weakly squeeze around him as much as you can muster. Your arms tremble trying to hold yourself up after the soul-wracking peak you just experienced. 

It doesn’t take much longer for him to cum, the spreading feeling of heat a fulfilling end to your shared efforts.

After a moment, you limply slide off of him with a soft thud, the side of your body still touching his. You stretch out in the sunlight, trying to soothe the ache in your sore muscles. 

Varuj chases his breath next to you, eyes glazed in the kind of way that only a draining will do.

After a few moments, he reaches out his hand, hesitates for a moment, but then lays it on your shoulder blade. The weight of his calloused palm on your still overly reactive skin is so soothing and welcome. 

You let out a soft groan in approval, flexing the muscle underneath.

“...You came back.” Varuj observes. The statement is more of a question though, with how his voice threatens to falter.

“Yeah, I did.”

“...Is it because it’s Spawn?” He finally manages to get the question out, even though it sounds like he’s expecting an answer he doesn’t really want to hear. “It’s okay if that’s the case, But if I’m only going to see you two months of the year, I… would like to know that up front...”

While it was primarily Spawn that drove you back in a physical sense, you know you would’ve come back eventually, regardless. You wanted to.

Lucky for you, you can actually communicate now that the mental fog has temporarily lifted, allowing you to think clearly once again. 

“No- Well, kinda- but not only because of that.” You rub your forehead and try to explain yourself, a bit guilty that your behavior is what brought him to even be questioning your motives in the first place. “I wanted to see if the offer from before still stood.”

“Which… parts of it?” Varuj asks tentatively, with the smallest bit of hope.

“The job, the place to live.” You say, and then forcing yourself to be vulnerable, add: “You.”

“Of course! Nothing would make me happier, if that’s really what you want, hahah-” He says in astonishment, excitement building in his voice despite some clearly enforced reservation. “Er, it’s just that, how you left after the ordeal with the contract… You were so mad. I thought that you’d never want to see me again.”

“Yeah, I thought about it.” You laugh hollowly and motion with one hand to the fact that you’re literally skin to skin now. “Didn’t last long.”

“Right.” The smile fades from his face slightly, and his eyes are focused somewhere far away. He chews on his lip in thought. “It would still have been worth it.”

You heave a sigh, realigning his focus to the present

“You know... I was so mad that I didn’t thank you at all, even though I should have.”

“Oh?” He sounds legitimately shocked. “You’ve come around?”

“Listen. I still don’t like how you did it, but… it did fix the massive problem I had.” You poke your finger squarely between his pecs for emphasis. “Even I’m not stubborn enough to ignore that fact… So… Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it-” He practically beams at the admission of gratitude. “I would do it again in a heartbeat, if I had to.”

A frown furrows into your brow. You can feel your chest grow tight, torn between feeling loved and knowing he was willing to throw your developing relationship away for your happiness, at the expense of his own.

It’s stupid. It makes you want to shake him. You settle for kissing him again, instead.

It’s a bit silly, realizing how much that sentiment had incensed you before you had the length of half the Zephyric to mull it over. But now, you think you understand why, even if you disapprove of the method.

“You’re a fool.” You say when you part, still pressing smaller kisses on his face, softer ones this time than in the water. You can’t help but notice just how sharp the short, recently unmaintained hairs on his cheek and jaw feel, and rub your palm along them. “And you need to shave.”

“For you, certainly.” Varuj laughs heartily, voice dripping with affection.

You lie in comfortable near-silence on the deck for a while, soaking in the sun’s rays.The only sounds are the gentle lapping of waves against the hull below, and the occasional cry of passing gulls. 

Your head is carefully nestled against the soft, dark hair on Varuj’s broad chest, so that the point of your horn is turned away. You could almost believe he’s fallen asleep, if it wasn’t for the occasional movement of his hand to stroke down your dorsal fin or trace the stripes on your side.

All of the familiar scenery of the boat seems to take on a new sense of comforting beauty to you - the freshly cleaned deck, the thick cords of rope, the port holes, the violently orange life rings, the benches where the tourists sit. Though, as you stew in the feeling, you realize it might’ve been there for some time now, and you’re only now noticing it.

 It’s something you haven’t felt in quite some time.

You’re home.

“One minor thing, though, so there are no hurt feelings from… let’s say, misaligned expectations.” Varuj clears his throat and starts speaking with an almost playful lilt to his voice. You turn your eyes up to him. “You already know that I love you. I'd at least like to know if you feel the same way?"

You hesitate, your mind grinding to a halt, and you can feel blood flood into your cheeks. 

He has to be teasing you at this point - poking at a soft spot he’s already identified.

It’s hard to discard some of your pride and admit this weakness, but you try your best.

"...I do." You admit in a hoarse tone barely above a whisper. You know what you feel for him- but you’re still not quite there yet when it comes to saying it out loud. “...Don’t make me say it...”

“Hahah- You don’t have to yet, there's no rush.” You can hear the elation coursing through his voice from the simple confirmation, even if you didn’t say the words verbatim. “I only wanted to be completely sure...”

“Good. …Because I’d rather show you.” 

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

[whispersafterdusk]

Heart of Stone - ch 15

"I might make a tiny one to join the quartz and heart on my shelf."

"Really?"

Dawn grinned at him from over a shoulder; she'd been walking in slow circles around the natural rock stack, studying it from every angle. Unsuur had sat down in the sand a few feet away, letting his attention wander between her and the stack as it wanted to. It was great having two things he really liked both in his line of sight at the same time.

"A bit of clay, some paint, some texturing... Might take a few tries to get it perfect but, yeah, really."

He smiled; she came over to sit next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. She liked being in contact with him as much as he did with her whether that was holding her hand or having an arm around her (and it was both fun and comforting to rest his chin on top of her head - he could do that whether she was sitting or standing in front of him. It was easier when her hair was down but she still laughed every time he did it).

"Can't wait to see it, then." ((Continued below cut. Very mildly spicy part warning))

She hummed happily before lifting her head and looking out across the landscape. "I'll definitely show you once it's done - not sure when that will be since I'll be starting work on Catori's sandrunning stuff sooner or later."

"Sandrunning?"

"Have you ever gone sledding?"

Unsuur shook his head. "Sandrock barely gets a dusting of snow in the winter and it's always gone the next day. I've seen sledges that haul things across sand but those were pulled by animals or people, not really ridden. Something the size of a sledge sounds kind of dangerous to let slide down a hill too."

"Well, Catori wants to build sleds - NOT big ones! - and have people go sledding down the dunes along marked courses. She mentioned something about races and times and prizes too."

"How would that work?

"A race, or sliding down a dune?"

"Both, I guess. I've never thought of sand as slick. I've definitely rolled down dunes before but not usually on purpose. At least it'd be a soft landing if someone falls off."

Dawn laughed and trailed her fingers through the sand in front of them. "Something flat and polished enough should zip down a hill pretty well. Weight might be an issue but I'm not the one building the sleds so I don't know what Catori has planned for those. I'll be building everything else - the sign-up kiosk, the banners, the boundary markers... She's planned out several courses for people to try their hand at so after I get it made I then have to go install everything. That part will probably take longer than actually building them."

Unsuur turned to sweep his gaze across the surrounding area; that was a lot of desert out there to build in. "That sounds like a lot to do."

"It is. It'll mostly be a lot to move but it's all simple to assemble once I get it out here. I'm still waiting on the final blueprints since the whole idea isn't completely finalized with City Hall yet."

"I'll help. And if I'm not around to help you can borrow Boulder to help you carry things." At his name the horse lifted his head from a patch of scrub grass, flicking his ears toward them. "-not right now buddy, sorry to interrupt your graze."

Boulder huffed and went back to nibbling on the grass. Dawn smiled over at the horse. "I'll keep that in mind but I am seriously debating getting a horse for myself. Elsie said Cooper would be willing to sell me one if I got a proper stable built. --oh! That reminds me! Did I mention that Heidi's got me officially penciled in to start on expanding my house?"

He shook his head. "You hadn't, but I was assuming now that the bridge was done that that wouldn't be too far behind. Same plans as the ones you showed me before?"

"Yep! She thinks they can get it done in three or four days since they don't need to worry about any sort of plumbing. Once they're done I'll add on a stable myself -- it won't need to be very big, just enough to hold two horses."

Unsuur looked back to her. "Two horses?"

"My horse and Boulder, just in case you have him with you when you're visiting," she answered, gently nudging him with her shoulder. "He should have a spot to rest and unwind too."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it, and he can have more than just Truth as a friend then."

"And I can sneak him treats," she added, with a sly grin.

Unsuur smiled and leaned back so he could slide his arm around her, then he brought his other arm over so he could seize her around the waist; she squeaked in surprise as he lifted her over his thigh and settled her in front of him between his legs. "Not if I keep you right where I can see you."

That got him a light swat on the arm but she leaned back against him contentedly.

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

"And he bought everything? That's impressive."

"Just as expected! Soon Amirah and I will have what we need -- she can fully embrace her craft and I'll have access to BOTH my hobbies again."

"What glass stuff do you plan on making first?" he asked as he sat down on his stool at the jewelry bench, reaching out to slide Dawn's out for her.

"I haven't decided yet. Normally I'd discretely scout out what's selling but it's just Arvio here, and...my personal feelings about him aside, I know his profit margins have to be razor thin with Sandrock's economy being what it is. My main source of income is basically guaranteed since builders are always needed." She came over and sat down while twisting her hair up into a messy bun.

"So competing with him wouldn't be fair," he concluded, and she nodded as she turned the little light on over the bench.

"Right. That won't stop me from making things but whatever I make will be because I felt like it, not based on any market research." With the light on she pulled out a notebook from the cabinet by the bench and flipped it open to a page with an elaborately wire-wrapped and polished amber pendant drawn out - front, sides, and the back - in dark pencil lines. "For tonight though, this--" They both flinched slightly as the little tin timer went off - it seemed much louder than usual considering how quiet the evening was otherwise. Laughing, Dawn stood back up. "Hold that thought, I need to put in the next batch of fiber."

"Still making rope?" he asked, a little amazed at the sheer amount he knew she'd already made and here she was still making more.

"Yep," she sighed, picking up the top bundle of plant fiber off a small pile and loading it into one of her machines. "Believe it or not we're using a fair amount of fencing too -- we pulled a lot of scrap wood out of Gecko Station for it but there's a limit to how much wood we can use on this project. If it doesn't take off then that's...basically a lot of wasted lumber."

"I don't think it'll be wasted," Unsuur said. "If even one person enjoys themselves then it was a good use."

Dawn came back and flopped down on her stool. "True, I guess. Anyway, like I was about to say, this is tonight's plan -- I probably won't get it done in one sitting but what do you think?"

Unsuur looked the sketch over - it seemed like it'd be about the size of the top joint of his thumb when finished. "I like it, it reminds me of a bird's nest. Where'd you find the amber?"

"In among some lapis lazuli near Gecko Station -- it was wedged in and I wouldn't have seen it if I hadn't, by pure coincidence, quarried that particular outcrop. I'm not sure if someone dropped it or purposely hid it there but I guess it's mine now."

"I'd just call it a lucky find then and not wonder about it too much."

She grinned over at him and moved the notebook to a clipboard hanging from a hook attached to the wall in front of them. "Very lucky. Would you like any of the lapis lazuli? I only meant to take a small amount but it cracked and broke apart more than I was expecting."

"Sure. It'll look great next to my painite."

"Wha- you have painite?"

"Yes. It's not very big though."

"That's still really rare!"

"Do you want to see it sometime?"

"Yes!"

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

"It's all about focus and balance." ...both of which were hard to concentrate on since Dawn was sitting across from him watching as he delicately settled a fifth rock on top of a new stack. "Along with a steady hand and quiet mind."

"I'd like to think I have both...usually, depending on how my day is going," Dawn laughed softly. "Some days you don't need 'steady' or 'quiet,' you need 'sledgehammer.'"

Unsuur very slowly backed his hands away from the rock and held his breath for a moment; it stayed balanced - not even a wobble - and he exhaled silently through his nose. "Luckily you don't need a sledgehammer, or a pickhammer, or even a regular hammer to make a rock stack. Just your own hands and imagination. And rocks, but that goes without saying."

Dawn laughed again. "And good company?"

"...yeah, the company is definitely making this way better than usual," he answered after a moment. "Do you want to try?"

"I..." she started, drawing the vowel out as she pulled her pocket watch out of the top pocket of her overalls. "-dang it. I would love to but I have to meet Mi-an over at the old outpost in twenty minutes."

Wow. They'd come out here two hours early for a walk and some rock stacking...had it already been that long? "That's ok. We can come back to this another day. Will you two need any extra hands?"

"We're just doing final measurements and putting out some color-coded temporary posts to mark where the courses are definitely going. Need to make sure our numbers are right and there's no unexpected obstacles that've been unearthed since we were last out here," Dawn replied, standing up and brushing her knees off. "Tomorrow is when we'll be hauling everything out for the final set up. You can help then if you'd like."

"Count me and Boulder in."

"Does Boulder know how to pull a wagon?"

"...I'm not actually sure. I bought him from the ranch a few years ago so I'm not sure what Elsie or Cooper might have taught him aside from getting him used to a saddle and rider. He can carry things and people on his back though."

"We'll figure it out. I'll see you tomorrow." She stepped over and, once he was back on his feet, hugged him tightly, then tilted her head up toward him.

Unsuur bent slightly and kissed her, then before she could pull away kissed her a second time for good measure, absolutely adoring how it felt to feel her giggling against his lips. Little surprises like that never failed to make her laugh. "Bright and early?"

"Unfortunately," she said, tone flat, but then she smiled and headed off across the dunes.

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

"I...am done...building...in the middle...of a desert," Dawn wheezed as she threw herself down in the sand, flat on her back with her arms and legs spread.

Unsuur understood the sentiment well; they - meaning her, Mi-an, Unsuur, Elsie, and, surprisingly, Catori as well - had all met up at sunrise, packed all the sandrunning pieces into a wagon that Belle was pulling (Boulder toted all the water along with a satchel of snacks to keep them going) and headed out into the Eufala to install everything. Unsuur and Elsie had been mostly muscle, Catori had been 'supervising' and Mi-an and Dawn made sure everything fit together and was secured, and though he felt like he'd not done much actual work (...to be honest, he didn't really consider what Catori did to be 'work' either compared to everything everyone else was doing) his hands, arms, and feet were aching, he was hot and grimy, and a little hungry as well.

Mi-an dropped down on Dawn's left, fanning herself with the folded remains of a blueprint. "No kidding! Whew! After all this...wanna dunk my head...in a bucket of water," she panted.

Unsuur moved over to sit next to Dawn on her other side. "Don't let Burgess catch you."

"I was joking! ...mostly," Mi-an said with an exhausted smile, moving to lay down in the sand as well. "I wouldn't waste water like that - no dunking unless it's in my bathtub!"

Catori ambled up to them, writing rapidly on a clipboard in her hands. "Oooh, I can't wait to let Matilda know we're ready for business! Opening day is going to be big! BIG big! I'm advertising in every city, town, and village in the Free Cities! If it's got people, I'm sending it flyers!"

...that sounded like a lot of people. Could Sandrock even host however many 'a lot of people' ended up being? Hopefully Matilda had a plan of some kind. "When did you plan to open?"

"Soon," Catori chuckled. "I'm aiming for one week, maybe sooner if the flyers get made and mailed out quicker."

Unsuur glanced down to Dawn, noticing how sand was beginning to cake itself to her arms thanks to the sweat. "So a week before you get to see people enjoying what you've built. -- and you too, Mi-an. Those sleds look fun."

"Heeeeeeey!"

They all looked up at Elsie's yell - she was about twenty feet away with Belle and the wagon, waving at them, and didn't seem to be in danger or anything, just needing their attention; Unsuur relaxed a little, leaning back on his hands behind him and stretching his sore legs out.

"If y'all want a ride back then c'mon!"

"Guess that's our cue. Let's get home," Catori said, tucking the clipboard under an arm.

Mi-an sat up with a groan then stood and offered Dawn a hand up. "Coming?"

Dawn shook her head. "I'll walk. I need...to rest a bit before I try moving."

Mi-an giggled some and looked to Unsuur; he shook his head. "I'll stay with her. We can ride back on Boulder."

Dawn offered up an exhausted wave as the other two headed off; Unsuur got up and headed over to Boulder to retrieve a canteen of water and bring it back over to her, sitting down again with a quiet grunt he couldn't quite suppress. "Thirsty?"

She shook her head; Unsuur took a few large gulps and braced the open canteen between his knees, leaning back on his hands again. They were sitting in direct sunlight but there was a decently strong breeze blowing up from the canyon and over the dunes so the heat wasn't outright terrible but he was looking forward to heading home and sitting in front of a fan for awhile. Along with the aches from all the physical work he had a heat headache forming behind his eyes and starting to pound in his temples.

"I don't really like how worried she was."

"...huh?" Unsuur said, turning to look down at Dawn. "How who was worried?"

"Catori. She might have been acting excited but I think when she thought no one was looking at her she didn't seem all that confident."

"She's been trying to find a big success for awhile now. Sandrunning seems pretty fun though -- if you aren't afraid of crashing into those big rock formations. I'm surprised she didn't try to avoid those more. No matter how politely you ask, a rock isn't going to get up and move out of your way."

Dawn laughed quietly and rolled over to lay on her stomach, letting a handful of sand trickle through her fingers. "I'M just hoping no ruins or scrap or anything dangerous like that gets uncovered by a storm or something between now and opening day."

"Oh, yeah. That would be bad. We can check for that sort of thing before the big day though."

"Mmhmm," she hummed, nodding. "Do you need to head back soon?"

"Not really. I told Justice I wanted to help set things up and he agreed, mostly because he wanted me here to protect you all from any monsters or bandits. I might need to write up an official report stating everything went ok and we weren't attacked but he gave me the entire day to help."

"I have some time to kill before heading home -- they're putting the roof on the addition today and I don't want to be in their way."

"Are they almost done?"

"Just about. There's the roof and the flooring inside to finish up."

Unsuur reached over to rub a hand across her shoulders, which switched to brushing sand off her back. "Considering they kept pushing their start date back I bet you'll be glad to have them out of your space."

She groaned. "You have no idea. If I'd known sooner that they were having supply issues I would have gone out and gathered all the materials myself so I wouldn't be trying to do all THAT-" she gestured toward the sandrunning kiosk and courses beyond "-with people underfoot all day." After a pause she planted her hands on the ground and shoved up, pushing herself to her knees. "I think I've recovered enough to head back. Want to get a drink at the saloon?"

...he sort of did, but that headache... "...I want to, but I think I got a little too hot today and need some time to cool off first. I've got a headache starting but some rest and maybe a few painkillers ought to keep it from getting worse."

Dawn blinked at him then took him by the arm. "Let's definitely get you home then. I can get Boulder settled in the stable for you."

"Thanks but that's all right - I can manage that before I rest."

It was a short walk over to Boulder; Dawn did finish off the water in the canteen and Unsuur helped her fully brush off before hopping up behind her in the saddle. After a quiet ride back to town Dawn helped him get Boulder unsaddled and rubbed down; as they were working Amirah spotted them and hurried over and had a quick conversation with Dawn - too quiet for Unsuur to overhear so he didn't have to feel weird about eavesdropping - before heading off, then he frowned as he realized whatever they'd discussed had left Dawn frowning too.

"What's wrong?"

She let out a loud huff then put on what he could only describe as a brave face. "Nothing, it's... It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

He usually hung Boulder's saddle from a large wooden peg in the wall and missed it twice since he was looking over at her and not at what he was doing (or trying to do). "-are you sure?"

"Not yet," she answered quietly. "...I'll tell you about it later if-- if it turns out to be nothing, I'll tell you."

"...that sounds like if it DOES turn out to be something then you won't."

The smile she gave him was strained. "I won't keep it from you but it might take me awhile to calm down enough to talk about it. -- anyway, you should head home before your headache gets any worse. I'm sorry that helping me made you sick."

He came out of stable and pulled her into a hug. "It wasn't just because I was helping you -- every so often I get overheated and don't feel good for awhile. Rest always helps so you don't need to worry about me."

She momentarily knotted her fingers into the loose fabric of his jacket at the small of his back, crushing herself in against him, then inhaled deeply and stepped back. "Have a good nap. I'll drop by later to check in on you."

"Ok. We can go get that drink then."

Her parting smile was a bit more genuine but he still felt a twinge of concern as she walked away; what had Amirah said to her? Hopefully it wasn't bad news about their arrangement with the Mysterious Man...Dawn had been so excited at the prospect of blowing glass again. The thought of her being disappointed made him a little sad but there wasn't anything to gain by theorizing on whatever news Amirah had shared - she'd share when she was ready.

He ended up sleeping longer than he'd meant to but he felt much better afterward - no headache, normal body temperature, still hungry but that was to be expected since he'd technically napped through his lunch and while he'd eaten breakfast all he'd had since then was a few pieces of jerky. There were still some aches and pains, and a few new blisters on his hands from all the work, but overall he felt good -- time to go get that drink with Dawn, if it wasn't too late. It was at least nice out now that the sun had set and the walk over to the workshop was a short but pleasant one, but the pleasantness was dashed when a red-eyed Dawn opened the door and immediately stepped back to half hide herself behind it.

"H-hey. Um, feeling better?"

"I'm fine. What's wrong?"

There was a loud sniffle; she didn't look sad, more...angry, and was trying and failing to hide it. "It's-"

"-clearly not nothing. I can tell that much. Is Amirah backing out of your deal?"

She let out a sharp exhale and pulled the door open fully, gesturing for him to come inside and sniffling again. "No, it's not her - she actually warned me that-- stupid Arvio-"

Unsuur frowned; anything to do with Arvio was proving to be bad news. He wanted to ask - really badly - what he'd done, but considering their earlier conversation it was probably better to let her decide when she wanted to talk about it, whether that was right now or later.

The smell of fresh varnish and tar washed over him as he stepped through the doorway and she closed the door behind him. Off to his left was the new addition to the house; there was a curtain hung across the doorway that covered the top half of the opening and revealed bare floor studs beyond it. There was also a broom and dust pan leaning against the wall beside it with a small pile of sawdust pushed up against the baseboard -- the construction work crew hadn't been in the yard so he assumed they had finished for the day and would complete the flooring tomorrow (and, hopefully, wouldn't have left until the roof was done).

"Sorry but I don't really feel like getting a drink now," Dawn went on after a moment. "I'm just...ugh, I'm so -- I shouldn't have believed him!" She punctuated that with a little stomp of her foot, before plodding over to drop onto her couch. "He's no different from any other ass that just wants a pretty girl on their arm..."

"Wait, so did he... He knows you and I are a couple, doesn't he? I thought the entire town knew at this point." Unsuur went and sat next to her, fighting against the annoyance rising in him -- surely, surely, Arvio hadn't tried to ask Dawn to be his girlfriend knowing that she was Unsuur's?

"Oh he knows. That's why he was trying to- and why Amirah warned-" she cut herself off and grabbed one of the throw pillows from beside her and pressed it against her face, growling loudly into it before continuing. "He had some grand plan of inviting me to a fancy party under the pretense that there'd be a small group. In reality, I would be the only one there so he could convince me to give him a chance."

Her voice was muffled thanks to the pillow but Unsuur could hear her clearly enough that the annoyance bloomed into anger; not only had Arvio lied to him, to try and hinder his shot with Dawn, but now he'd lied to her too and was openly trying to steal her away? The man had always struck him as young and lacking life experience (not that Unsuur was much older or more experienced) but...he wouldn't have thought the shopkeeper capable of such actions.

"I...don't know what to say or do about that," he said (once he was certain he had his tone under control). "Lying and trying to steal someone's girlfriend isn't technically illegal so all I can do is be mad at him."

Her hands visibly clenched the pillow harder and a breath later there was another frustrated growl, or maybe it was a quiet scream - it was hard to tell. "Little rat." Slowly she slumped over onto her side, her legs gently bumping into his as she shifted. "Uggh...and I can't even choose to just avoid him! He owns the only general store in town!"

"Yeah." Again, no idea what to say, especially now that he was angry too; a cramp in his thumb drew his attention to his hands - they were clenched in his lap and he hadn't noticed he'd done that. He flattened his palms against his thighs and closed his eyes, slowly inhaling and picturing a few of his favorite rock stacks, mentally going through their creation step by step and feeling his anger gradually fading away to a deep disappointment.

When he was certain he was calm he stood long enough to put one knee up on the couch to support himself so he could lean over Dawn and gently pry her fingers off the pillow and move it away. There were twin damp spots on the side that had been pressed to her face and her eyes and cheeks were wet. With the pad of his thumb he swiped away a few tears and smiled down at her, getting a weak one in return, and he bent to gently kiss her.

When he went to straighten she grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, keeping their faces close; vaguely he was aware of her shifting under him, turning and bringing her legs up on the couch and scooting a bit so she was laying on her back under him, then she was pressing in with hungry kisses - way more passionately than they'd ever kissed before. It kind of knocked every conscious thought out of him, leaving him acting on instinct alone and his instincts seemed to know exactly what was needed for the situation; he slid his knee back so he wasn't so hunched over and switched to using a hand to hold himself upright as they kissed. One of her hands left his collar and moved, coming to rest firmly on his shoulder and drawing him down further a couple more inches so he shifted to brace himself with an elbow instead, to allow himself to be pulled down but not leave his full weight on her smaller frame.

When they finally came apart Unsuur sucked in much needed air; their noses were just grazing one another, her breath hot in his face, and he could feel as well as hear the little whisper:

"Stay?"

Stay? Stay. Here. Tonight. That thought managed to make it through and it was exciting, and scary, but mostly exciting (which was embarrassingly obvious by now - his pants felt three sizes too small at the moment). Wordlessly he brought his other knee up on the couch so he was straddling her thighs and slid his free hand under her at the small of her back, and nodded.

They didn't spend much more time on the couch; the walk to the bed was more of a stumble full of roaming fingers and tossed clothing. Neither of them had actually planned for this happening tonight so they had to stop just short of full intimacy but builders had very talented hands and Unsuur was very good at following directions. After tonight he would need to start carrying around protection--

...which he would need to buy from... Oh, damn it.

Well, whatever. Let Arvio really see just how out of reach Dawn was to him, and maybe he'd stop pursuing her and making her upset.

(Or maybe Fang would have condoms - that seemed like the less petty option).

Though Dawn's bed wasn't any bigger than his they still fit comfortably together, like they'd been made for one another; he did wake up once and was confused about where he was for a moment, then remembered and smiled and buried his face into Dawn's hair and fell back asleep. The next morning they woke still curled up together - it didn't seem like either of them had moved - and had a slightly embarrassing scavenger hunt to find where they'd tossed all their clothing.

He ducked into her bathroom long enough to wash his face and run his fingers through his hair - it would at least look passable until he could get home to comb it properly come lunch time. Dawn was over near the stove with the kettle on a burner when he came back out and she offered him a shy smile as she grabbed the tin of coffee grounds out of a nearby cabinet.

"Want breakfast before you go? Coffee?"

Unsuur glanced at the clock on the wall near the bookshelf -- 9:15. "Actually, I should get going before Justice comes looking for me."

"Early start today?"

He silently pointed at the clock; she looked over and he saw her eyes widen. "Ahh! I didn't set my alarm last night -- forget Justice, it's Yan who'll come banging on the door!" She hurriedly put the coffee grounds away and emptied the kettle back into the pitcher of water in the fridge, then began frantically pulling her hair up while jogging for the door. Chuckling quietly to himself - he was in a really great mood that not even the prospect of Yan could ruin - he followed her out and kissed her at the gate before she went rushing off toward the Commerce building.

Unsuur jogged that way as well but continued on to the Civil Corps building where he found Justice inside at his desk filling out a form.

"Sorry for being late, sheriff -- anything different today?"

"There you are, I was starting to wo-" Justice looked up as he started talking, took in Unsuur's appearance, then snorted and shook his head. "-never mind, not worried now and I don't need details. And, nah, just...get to your usual patrol. Try not to be too distracted today either, all right? We're expecting an uptick in tourists with that sandrunning thing planned and I'm hoping we don't have any trouble with them."

"Yes sir."

He turned to head back out the door then paused as a thought occurred to him - one that he felt bad for not having thought of it last night. "Hey, Justice. Exactly where does behavior cross over into harassment and how are we allowed to handle it?"

Justice stopped writing mid-word and looked up, looking equal parts confused and suspicious. "Uh, well, it's -- why? Who's harassing who?" He paused, then frowned. "Is someone harassing Dawn?"

"I'm not sure if it fully counts as harassment yet. Which is why I'm asking where the line is."

"Well, the definition of harassment is any behavior that threatens, intimidates, or demeans, or just plain isn't invited, welcome, or causes alarm without a legitimate reason. --not that there's many reasons to legitimately harass someone in the first place. What's going on?"

Unsuur hesitated - he didn't want to come across as 'the jealous boyfriend' so he needed to word this plainly and directly. "In that case it is, and it's...Arvio. He's bothering Dawn, the forced romance type of bothering, even though he knows we're a couple."

Shaking his head Justice stood, tossing his pen onto the desk. "Not again... I'll go have a friendly chat with him-"

"-wait, again?" Unsuur interrupted. "He's done this before?"

"Yeah, to a few girls that have since left Sandrock. Pretty sure one of them left because of him but also her shop wasn't doing so hot at the time either...last I heard she's got a successful little boutique out in Walnut Groo-- uh..." he stopped and took a breath. "So, uh, anyway, you head on out to patrol and I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, sheriff. I'll see you later."

With Justice following behind Unsuur went back out into the heat, walking together until they reached the stairs where Unsuur broke off to go up toward the temple and the sheriff continued on toward Arvio's.

So Arvio had done this sort of thing before, huh... It must have happened before Unsuur had arrived in Sandrock, or something. He couldn't think of anyone who had left in recent years that had ever mentioned being bothered by the shopkeeper. And, it was a good thing Justice was handling it; he hadn't wanted to seem like a jealous boyfriend in front of the sheriff but...he also didn't want to come across as a vengeful or possessive one either, and Arvio would probably listen if it was Justice giving the talking to instead of him. It was still going to make things very awkward between them all but if the guy couldn't learn when to stop then he sort of had it coming.

...oh, yeah, he needed to stop by Fang's today. He should really remember that.

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

"And then tuck that end - no, the silver end - into that last loop you made."

Dawn was sitting behind him and casually draped over his shoulders, occasionally taking his hands in hers to show him how to thread or loop wire, and her voice was low and gentle and right at his ear as the wire heart knot - a smaller one, so she could wear it around her neck - steadily took shape in his hands. He'd chosen primarily copper with some silver threaded through, with a waxed leather cord; this was his third night working on it and Dawn assured him he'd get it done tonight (maybe...he was starting to get sidetracked) and that any lopsidedness he kept insisting was there was all in his head -- she was the builder, and this was a tinier version of what she'd made for him, so...he was going to trust her on that.

He stuck the silver wire through the last loop he'd made, grasped it with the padded pliers to pull it tight, then gently slipped it through to the backside of the heart. "All right... Now what?"

She pressed a kiss to his temple. "Now you're done. Twist the end with that extra copper tail and then pull it up toward the top where you're going to curl it into a loop, and then you'll attach one of the spare jump rings I brought and that's that."

His hands still felt hopelessly clumsy with the wire (it looked more fragile than it actually was) but with the needle nose pliers he managed an even twist and a narrowed loop at the top. Dawn took the heart and pliers from him, tightened the loop just a bit to keep the pointy ends secured, then stuck the ring in place and threaded it onto the cord; she shifted around to sit on the bed next to him and held it up around her neck.

"How's it look?"

"Better than I thought it would. You're a good teacher."

Laughing she clicked the clasp into place and craned her neck to look down at it. "Now this I can and will wear without worrying about damaging or losing it somewhere."

He had a sudden, and very vivid, mental image of her wearing the knot and nothing else, and felt himself flush from his hairline to his shoulders - if that was even possible. Without a mirror he couldn't tell for sure but knew he'd gotten real hot rather quickly.

"Uh, um, yep. It looks nice on your shelf. The stone heart, I mean. Because it's sitting on your shelf still, safe and sound," he said, standing up and taking his jacket off. "Sorry, it's hot in here. Want me to turn on a fan?"

Dawn giggled and leaned back on her elbows, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "I'M fine."

He tossed his jacket over a chair at his table and came back to sit next to her. "Whew, better... Tomorrow's the final check for the sandrunning courses, right?"

She nodded. "So far as I know - Catori wants to head out there around 10."

"Ok. Justice said he wanted to tag along for this one so I'll let him know in the morning."

"All right. And, so we don't accidentally oversleep again, I should probably get going."

Sad, but true. Unsuur helped her pack up the wire and the few tools she'd brought over, made sure there weren't any tiny slivers of wire left in the bed or on the floor, then walked her to the door and kissed her goodnight. He stood out on his front stoop until he saw her walk into her own house then went back inside and sat down on his bed, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, directing his words over toward the wall to his left. "-no offense Wilson but whenever she spends the night here I'll have to cover your eyes, or I can put you in the wardrobe if you'd be more comfortable in there. ...yeah, I'll think on it some more, you live here too but we also don't need an audience for, um. That."

After some time to cool down he finished doing the dishes and got into bed, letting his mind wander (but not TOO far - he didn't need to cool off again) and morning seemed to come too quickly. He made and ate breakfast and was in the bathroom when his entire house shook with a massive blast accompanied by the sound of a shattering window and a lot of water rushing...somewhere.

He hurried out of his bathroom and looked around; one of his front windows was broken and there were smoking, twisted metal pieces sitting on the floor just beneath the sill, with an acrid smell starting to fill the room as shouts and screams came from outside.

Barreling through his front door he came out to a scene of chaos: the water tower was a smoking and busted wreck, the water inside it had flooded this end of main street, and Justice and Pen were shouting back and forth at each other as they-

-chased Logan. Logan was here in town!

Or, he WOULD be in town for another twenty seconds, maybe. Astride his goat he was already galloping away, with Pen chasing him on foot and Justice trying and failing to saddle Truth, settling for just reins and riding bareback as he took up the chase too. Unsuur knew he wouldn't have time to even get Boulder out of the stable so he took off on foot as well, sprinting down the street -- he didn't think for an instant that he could catch up to Logan but maybe he could keep him in sight long enough that they could finally track him to his hideout.

The tracks had just come into view when the warning whistle for the train blared -- Unsuur couldn't be certain whether the train driver either didn't see Logan coming or actually intended to hit him with the train but as Logan neared the tracks the train was beginning to pull away from the station; ahead of him he heard Justice yelling for Logan to stop, for Truth to go faster - just yelling in general - as he pulled ahead of Pen who still stayed close behind him, and they all got to watch as Logan raced across the tracks and the train separated them.

Unsuur's heart dropped right through the soles of his boots when, as the train got out of the way, he saw Logan had slowed and was approaching Dawn, who was standing rigidly at the corner of her yard - still IN her yard, thankfully, so there was a fence between them even if it wouldn't do much to stop Logan from--

From...

He didn't want to think about it; instead he pushed himself into the hardest sprint he could manage. Even though it was just a handful of seconds it felt like forever, and he was immensely relieved when Logan finally turned his goat away and thundered off down the tracks away from Dawn (and them, but at this precise, specific moment in time, Dawn was all he cared about).

Justice and Pen kept going, chasing and hollering at Logan; Unsuur skidded to a halt and partially plowed into the fence, knocking the top slat loose on accident.

"Are...you...all right?" he panted. It felt like he was inhaling fire with every breath.

"Y-yes, I-- what happened?! That was Logan, and--"

"I'll be back," he interrupted, turning to rush off after the others.

Dawn was ok. He could safely leave her here in town and do his best to finally bring Logan in. Keeping Logan in view was now not possible for him or Pen, slow as they were on foot, so hopefully Justice could keep up and keep eyes on him but all Unsuur could do for now was run.

[shytastemakerthing]

If its alright, can I have a TWST matchup? Romantic and platonic if possible pls! Sorry if I overdid it I got a little anxious about what to put lol. Take your time and make sure to take care of yourself. 💙

I am about 5'6 with chest length brown hair that I am growing it out so I can do hairstyles with my sister. I'm nearsighted plus see double so I wear glasses. I have eczema on my arms. I am around 120 pounds and prefer wearing soft baggy gender neutral clothing. I normally look a tamed mess now a days cuz I'm at home 24/7 taking care of my grandma, but when going out I try to look "presentable".

I'm a Scorpio and my MBTI is INFJ-T. I am autistic so how I interact with people varies. Around people I don't really know I'm really quiet and polite, but towards people I don't like I tend to be more passive-aggressive and bitchy. I've had a few friends say that I'm terrifing when pissed off or if someone is being bigoted. I do know that I'm pretty quick to start a fight verbal or physical if my friends are being messed with. I do like to tease my family and friends a lot, but if I see I'm getting close to a boundary I try to pull back. With loved ones I'm overall just more comfortable with being a little silly.

I have pretty simple likes and dislikes. Like I love animals and have had various pets in the past as well as a dog right now. Drawing is one of my passions though I'm trying to get past my anxiety of showing people my art. I absolutely love to sing and I'm willing to listen to (almost) anything, but I love musicals more than anything. It's pretty easy for me to starting rambling about something I'm hyperfixated on then get a little embarrassed. I enjoy the cold more heat because I'm prone to heat strokes. Though exercising is difficult for me I love roller skating. My whole family loves video games so I grew up playing and really loving them. I have difficulties reading so I don't really enjoy it and use to hate it. I have a couple of fears like bug, clowns, and swimming. Sometimes talking is really hard for me cuz of my memory issues, slight lisp, and overall difficulty with pronuncing words, so I don't talk much and enjoy listen to people a lot more.

My love language is pretty evenly spread out, but I enjoy quality time with some sort of physical contact the most.

Varies health stuff that are unfortunately important about me: So, I was born without a sense of smell and with it food is very difficult for me. Most food looks very weird and gross to me, so I rely on texture the most with food. I do have fun making people skirm when they forget about my lack of smell though. I have a diagnosis for anxiety and memory issues, but my therapist agrees that I have more mental health related things. When I was young I had gotten myositis in my legs. Myositis is just muscle weakness caused by your immune system attacking your muscles. Symptoms come and go in episodes/flare ups so when I first got it I was in a wheelchair for six months. I still can't fully recover my leg strength so walking is still difficult if I do it too much.

Hello and thank you so much for this request! I hope that this match-up finds you well and I am so sorry as to how long it took for me to get this out to you! I hope that you enjoy it! I will do the romantic one first and as soon as I catch up on requests, I shall do the platonic!

Tw: None

I match you with...........

Jamil Viper

He is very much used to taking care of people (Kalim), and he has been doing it all of his life.... but it is different for you

Because you are his beloved partner

While he is forced to take care of Kalim, he takes care of you because he wants too

Is your eczema beginning to act up once more? (As someone who also has eczema, I understand this quite literal pain), he has the best remedies sent in from the Scalding Sands and will certainly help.

You don't know where he gets that lotion but by the sevens, the relief that you feel as he puts it on is unreal

With your lack of a sense of smell, he knows that this will certainly impact your food tastes and he will adjust accordingly

Jamil pays extra attention to how to react and respond to certain foods and will make adjustments to better suit your tastes, just so long as you are able to enjoy yourself

Another one who can't stand bugs (rather ironic for a man who grew up in what is basically a desert.... which is known for a lot of bugs), so good luck having some help when it comes to taking care of them

Okay.... if it is really small, he may try to squish it or something, but you have had to stop him more than once from lighting the thing on fire

You both enjoy whatever time it is that you are able to have with one another. He is usually quite busy, between taking care of Kalim, his club, duties as a vice hoursewarden, on top of his normal studies. But if you are both just able to be in the same room as one another, he certainly loves that

Speaking of his club, you are more than welcome to join him at the Basketball club. It's nice and air conditioned so you don't have to worry about getting too hot, and he loves that you come to see him

Overall, Jamil is a very attentive lover, doing what he had to be able to meet your needs and to ensure that you are well taken care of. He will continue to love and cherish you for as long as you allow him.

Thank you for your request!!

[paradoxgavel]

hi hello. i saw your tags and, as someone who lives very close to the ocean and has a parasocial relationship with it, i feel it is my moral duty to take you to the sea even if i can't actually take you there physically. so take a deep breath and close your eyes (metaphorically speaking, you do need them open to read this) and let's get you to the beach.

It isn't always this amazing, scenic destination like you see on postcards. Often times it's cold, it's windy, the sky is gray and the water is too loud. Sometimes the sun really beats down on you and the sand is pokey and itchy against your feet and there's too many people. Sometimes the beach just sucks.

But today you're stepping foot on the shore for the very first time, so today, it is perfect.

The sky is a blue so sharp and vibrant. It's dotted with clouds, a gentle scattering of pillowy white that shields you from the piercing sun. There's a breeze that soothes away the day's heat and sweeps handfuls of wildflowers to your nose, tangles of fresh seaweed, and a salt so potent it lands on your tongue.

You kick the shoes away from your heels and let your toes sink into the warm sand, and the soles of your feet are met with thousands of shells worn with time that cushion your weight with each step forward. The feeling is admittedly a little odd. There isn't a sting, but its course texture demands your attention, only easing into a softer hold against your skin as you near the water's edge, and your feet begin to sink, ever slightly, as the water laps with wide arms to call the sand underfoot back home.

It's here where something magical happens. When your toes curl into the muddy texture beneath and foam threatens to embrace you up to the ankles. The water — when you finally allow it to greet you — is cold and sharp like taking a deep breath on the first day of winter. This, unlike the sand, does have a bite. It's a feeling you don't mind — not after the second time the small wave dances against your ankles, or the third time, or the forth. It's a chill that tickles up your skin and reminds you that you are alive.

And the world continues to move. The wind blows petals from the trees and sweeps an umbrella from its place a few paces away, the birds overhead are circling with conversation, the ocean reaches for you with hands of cool seaspray. A child to your left is giggling and showing their mother the shell they just found. A dog barks from the walkway bench in the distance as its owner greets an old friend. The ocean stretches on before you, a blue more brilliant than even the sky, for miles and miles, as far as the eye can see and even past that.

You remember things that you thought you lost. Memories of being warm, of being cherished, of being alive and a part of life and you think that here, at what feels like the very edge of the world, that everything will be alright. You will be alright.

But maybe that's just the ocean talking.

Aww, Muzz, this was absolutely lovely! :'0

You have such a beautiful way with words, I swear. I really really loved this. Thank you so much!! ;v; 💕

[hangesbrattyapprentice]

Chains in the Sand

2

Zeke has complex plans. His captive opts for quick and simple.

Chp 1 here!

cw: allusion to canon-typical violence, injury, and death, angst, kidnapping, manipulation, yandere behaviour, zeke being messed up in general, mentions of miscarriage, suicidal thoughts, nudity, eventual smut.

Dark content in general. My dead dove radar is very skewed so I can't really tell how dark this is but please read at your own discretion and MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!

I finally finished editing chaper 2!! This has taken me forever but I'm so excited it's seeing the light of day. Really hope I'm getting Zeke right. The man is funny and I'm german not.

Walking into the small pharmacy, Zeke stood out among the dust motes caught in the afternoon sun, his towering form commanding the cramped space, golden hair catching the dim light, almost glowing. He was a sight not easily forgotten, even when he was trying to be inconspicuous.

He sidled up to the counter, leaning on it casually. The surly, middle-aged pharmacist barely glanced up from his ledger. It was only when he noticed the Marleyan crest on Zeke's arm that his gaze finally travelled up to meet the infamous Beast Titan's eyes, round lenses flashing with reflected sunlight.

"Can I help you?" he asked, the words more a grumble than a polite inquiry.

"Ah, yes indeed. You see," Zeke began, producing a slip of paper from his pocket and sliding it over the counter. "I have a prescription to fill."

The pharmacist looked him up and down disdainfully as Zeke smiled cheerily, eyes crinkling. Then he looked back sceptically at the forged prescription that the chief warrior had just handed him.

"Antibiotics…painkillers…” he mumbled, reading off of the list, “What do you even need all this for? Don't you titan shifters just heal right back up? Can you even feel pain?" He added a muttered "abominations" under his breath.

Zeke had been prepared with a lie about his grandmother’s health, but it didn’t seem necessary. Not for this bore of a man.

"Can we feel pain?" Zeke repeated slowly, smile growing contemplative. "Let's find out."

He brought the edge of his nail to the back of his hand and drew a sharp line of blood along his skin. The pharmacist followed the movement with widening eyes.

A golden spark crackled along the broken skin of the hand he held up, momentarily accentuating the sharp-toothed grin lurking just beyond it.

The pharmacist whimpered in horror, hands coming up to shield his face.

"O-oops," Zeke chuckled, the spark disappearing. He examined his now flawless hand with feigned surprise. "Look at that! No scar, but it stung like a bitch. Guess we feel pain after all. Now, about that prescription...”

His tone was as light as ever, but there was a new edge to it now, hinting at the power that lay beneath the jovial demeanour. The pharmacist, with trembling hands, filled the prescription without another word.

“Many thanks,” Zeke murmured, taking the bag from the pharmacist and heading towards the door. Just before he left, he turned back, a wide grin on his face. "You know, we may be abominations," he said, "but we do know how to take a joke, eh?"

As Zeke emerged from the stuffy confines of the pharmacy and re-immersed himself into the textured thoroughfare of one of Marley's more disadvantaged districts, he found himself drawn into a world that breathed life in ways entirely different from the neatly trimmed military headquarters that he was used to. Hell, even the internment zone wasn’t this shabby.

These streets wore their narratives openly, visible in the hardened grit underfoot and the scarred facades of the buildings that leaned into each other like old gossips determining a victim’s fate. Armband somewhat obscured by his satchel, he moved with an easy grace down the streets that would ostracise his kind most of all, and were all the same too caught up in their struggle to survive to notice another stranger. It was here, in the midst of this raw, indigent tapestry that Zeke had concealed his captive, the secret pawn that would launch his endgame.

The Warriors were unnerved, their confusion palpable. Reiner, especially, seemed to be teetering on the edge of distress, looking like he was just one more cryptic remark away from a meltdown. Zeke hoped the man would hold up for another few years. Having to deal with eager little Gabi now would be tedious. His team all questioned his decisions, his motives, wondering why he would go to such lengths to save this woman and, worse, keep it from General Magath. Their eyes searched for answers each time they glanced his way, looking like a bunch of toddlers trying to solve a puzzle. But the wheels of his mind had always turned in directions the others found inscrutable. He remained tight-lipped, confident in their loyalty even though he had no intentions of revealing his plans.

With the Paradis mission having failed so spectacularly, he didn’t see Marley renewing their efforts anytime soon. Zeke needed to personally open up negotiations with Paradis as soon as possible. Given his reputation, the Islanders weren’t likely to roll out the red carpet for him. She was his ticket – a valuable bargaining chip when the time came to convince Paradis of his ‘benevolent’ intentions. After all, what better way to gain their trust than to play the knight in shining armour to one of their own? It all fell together rather brilliantly.

Mila, Reiner had told him her name was. Scout and wife of Levi Ackerman. He shuddered at the thought of that man. That inhuman shadow that had almost singlehandedly cost them the battle and the entire Paradis mission. That savage who had stuffed a blade in his mouth and then asked him if he had no manners. The thought made him scoff indignantly. How uncouth.

What a stroke of luck, though, that his pretty little wife had fallen right into Zeke’s hands. Why any woman would agree to put up with such a gloomy man was beyond him but then again, she was full of mysteries, this Mila. Two days had passed since he had brought her to the shack at the border of this district, acquired with Yelena’s help. Each day since was punctuated with moments snatched away from his military duties, discreet visits, and an assortment of tasks that fell considerably outside the purview of his usual routines. Bathing her, treating her burns, feeding her, all while she hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words. She was rather like a doll. His pliant, taciturn, life-sized doll.

But rather than feeling inconvenienced, Zeke found himself drawn to his new role. He would never admit it if asked, but there was an almost perverse gratification to be derived from having someone so utterly helpless and dependent on you. The fact that it so happened to be this woman was just the cherry on top.

There was something beyond that. Something captivating about her demeanour, her acceptance of his ministrations coupled with an aloofness that bordered on indifference…

He had thought it would be different, thought that once the sedatives wore off, she would resist, fight, try to escape. Maybe he had even hoped for it a little. But she was nothing like the fiery rebel he had expected from Paradis.

No, she was different. Her rebellion was her silence, her refusal to grant him any insight into her thoughts. It left him feeling oddly…challenged.

He knew that her quiet submission likely stemmed from the belief that her comrades and her husband – not to forget their unborn progeny – were dead and that the war had been lost. The spark that he’d seen light up her eyes as she confronted the Cart was now reduced to dying embers, mirroring the loss she must feel deep within.

He was willing to bet that if she were to discover Levi's survival too soon, if she were to find out that her husband lived and her people still fought, the untimely revelation might just stoke her dwindling fire into a roaring blaze, one that could threaten to burn his plans to cinders. He might even be forced to extinguish her flame permanently.

Fortunately for him, that morsel of information was currently under his discretion, waiting for the right or, perhaps, wrong moment to be unveiled.

The fact that she did not remember him, didn’t associate his face with the monstrous Beast Titan who had wreaked havoc on her world, was another blessing in disguise. He was, to her, a benign caretaker, a distant figure who tended to her needs, his shifter alter-ego safely concealed behind the façade of humanity, albeit from an enemy camp.

Well, maybe “benign” was a stretch after how he’d had to leave her that first night. She was in no state to run away but he wasn’t going to take any chances. Hearing the clinking of the chain he would use to keep her restrained, her face had shown the first hint of a reaction. Panic painted thick across her features, she had tried to bolt right away, leaping up from her seat on the trunk. He had easily caught her by the ankle and dragged her, facedown, back over to him. She’d landed an impressive kick to his jaw, but the fight in her was nowhere near a match for him. He’d looped one end of the chain around her ankle and locked it tightly in place. The other end of the chain was secured around the ceramic stand of the sink, just long enough to allow her to move between mattress and bathroom but not reach the door. The impact from the fall couldn’t have been easy on her but she didn’t cry or even struggle after that, only falling back into her defeated resignation as he treated yet more scuffs on her skin.

The memory of the chain's cold weight in his hands and the look in Mila's eyes stirred a morbid excitement within him. He'd told her then, his tone laced with a gentle insistence that masked his true intent, "It’s for your own good, Liebchen. If anyone sees you, they will kill you. I'm your only chance at survival now. Trust me."

He hadn’t been lying, after all. Be it as a Paradisian spy, an Eldian escapee, or even just a helpless woman, she wouldn’t last a heartbeat in this city. Her wide eyes had borne into him, reflecting the flickering lamplight, brimming with the horrifying truth of his words.

Finally, some emotion.

With the day's fading light casting long shadows on the worn-out path, Zeke approached the shack, silently shaking his head at Yelena’s impeccable taste in real estate. He pushed open the door, the creaking hinge echoing that drawn-out anticipation that the room’s sole inhabitant provoked within him. He found her exactly where he’d left her – chained, curled up on the mattress, the dim light filtering through the crack in the door painting her in an ethereal glow.

The whole scene looked like something right out of a painting — 'Mila and the Mellow Lamp Light' — or something equally profound, he smirked sardonically to himself.

As he approached, her eyes flickered open, the barest hint of surprise registering on her pallid face before it was smoothed over with that familiar mask of stoic acceptance.

"Well, well, Sleeping Beauty, we meet again," Zeke commented lightly, letting a smirk curl at his lips as he nudged her with the toe of his boot. "I hope you're hungry because I'm not just good looks and charm. I can cook, too. I’m a man of many talents, you could say."

The corner of her mouth twitched in what might have been a smile or a grimace in the making, it was hard to tell. Zeke chose to interpret it as the former.

Easing himself onto the floor next to her, he lit the room’s only lightbulb and unwrapped the food he had brought - a warm, fragrant chicken broth that his grandmother – not he himself – had prepared that day. It was humble fare, but nourishing – a small mercy for her stomach, no doubt still churned by medications and anxiety. He noted the packet of milk rusks he’d left her with, only half-eaten on the counter.

“You shouldn’t be skipping meals with the antibiotics you’re on,” he noted, eyeing her sideways.

The smell of the broth seemed to draw her out. Her eyes, weary yet startlingly vivid against her pallor, met his as she uncurled herself, propping up against the wall with noticeable effort. Her stare clearly conveyed that she couldn’t care less. Zeke chuckled in an attempt to distract himself from how he was holding his breath in wait of her every move. Somehow even in this pitiful state, she managed to portray grace.

“Get any sleep?” he asked as he held a spoonful of broth up to her lips and watched her for any signs of resistance. There were none. Just a small shake of her head and silent acquiescence as she parted her lips to accept the food. He hummed, noting to himself to try and get her to sleep before he left later that night.

There was that perverse satisfaction again, this time in the feel of her mouth closing around the spoon he held. As he spoon-fed her, the shack seemed to shrink around them, the space stretching thin and delicate as if one word too loud might shatter it.

Zeke found himself fascinated by his captive. It wasn't affection, nor empathy – Zeke didn't believe in such frivolities – but rather a gnawing dissatisfaction that he just couldn’t put his finger on. Zeke liked the feeling of power, of being in control. And with her, he had those things. He was her sole caretaker, her protector, the only one she could rely on in this derelict shack a world away from everything she knew.

And for her part, she gave him that power. Save for her…bumpy introduction to the chain, she did everything, let him do everything, without so much as a flinch. Her complete submission to him was dangerously heady.

And yet, there was something in the way she held his gaze, that silent challenge in her dark eyes, that kept him on edge and roused his blood.

Zeke was no stranger to the deceptive lure of emotions and how they could cloud judgement - hadn’t his own dear parents been prime examples? And yet, he found himself unable to resist the call of this particular siren. After all, he was a man before he was a Warrior, a human before he ever became a titan.

Was it the power he held over her, the knowledge that she was at his mercy, or was it her resilience, her defiance even in surrender that drew him in? These were questions he did not quite have the answers to. All he knew was that he needed her trust, needed her faith in him, however misplaced it might be, for his plan to come to fruition. And that meant playing this dangerous game, treading on the edge of dealings he couldn't quite decipher.

He watched her, spooning another mouthful of the warm liquid into her mouth, every little movement adding to the surreal tableau that was his existence ever since Paradis – since her.

A stray drop escaped the spoon, tracing a path down her chin, interrupting his thoughts. It was a harmless thing, but one that reverberated within him, jolted him to the core.

Abandoning the spoon in the bowl, he found himself reaching out, his thumb catching the errant drop. With a swift motion, he swiped it up, guiding it back to her lips.

Her response was almost instinctual, immediate. Tongue darting out to lick the droplet off of his skin before her lips closed around the pad of his thumb and sucked.

He couldn’t help it. He cupped her chin, fingers pressing into her plush skin, and when her big, dark eyes slid up to his face in question, she caught his heavy-lidded gaze locked on her lips.

There was that something again, in the way she held his gaze then. A flash of life in her eyes that caught him off guard. It was a fleeting moment that held a world of implications. It was an assertion of her spirit, an unspoken declaration that she was not entirely defeated.

He chuckled, swiping over her bottom lip, pulling it lightly as he withdrew his hand. He found himself debating his next move. The lingering sensation of her mouth around his thumb pulsated within him, an alluring beat that wouldn’t subside. The line between their roles blurred ever so slightly, making him waver between motive and desire.

Yet, for all the uncertainty, one thing remained clear. Zeke was prepared to push boundaries, to navigate the tumultuous currents of this game with her. But whether it was out of mere morbid fascination or bordering on a toxic obsession, he knew he would not act unless he had her complete trust. After all, the fate of all humankind hinged on this precarious connection.

“Careful, Liebchen,” he grinned crookedly, “I’ve been told I’m an acquired taste.”

Her lip curled. This time it was definitely a grimace and he couldn’t help but laugh.

She ate the rest of the broth with extra care, scowling at him every once in a while. When the container was empty – one of the two that he had brought her – he got up to prepare a bath.

“Wait.”

He looked down at her, unsure for a second if she’d really spoken or if he had imagined it. But at her insistent stare, he slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress by her feet.

“Could…” she staggered, seeming to lose her nerve as soon as she’d gotten the word out. He turned to face her fully, waiting patiently for her to continue. 

“Could you tell me what happened…please?”

“What would you like to know? Do you not remember what happened to you?”

“Not me.” She shook her head, voice wavering. “The others.”

“The scouts?” He asked, eyebrows raised, and she nodded.

He had been waiting for this, yearning even, patiently. Finally this doll would talk to him. Finally, he could break her fully before mending her, reshaping her into something more suited to him. His puppet.

The mask of sincerity he donned was well-worn. It made his eyes widen slightly, the blue of his irises slashing through the defences of his victims.

“They’re gone, Mila.” His pulse raced in anticipation but he made sure to portray calmness, only mirroring her faint frown before twisting the dagger. “They were decimated.”

She shook her head again slowly, murmuring, “surely…not everyone. What about Levi?”

Zeke frowned in mock consternation. “Who?”

“Levi!” she gritted out, “the Captain of the Survey Corps. The one who murders titans like they’re ants. You must know. And the Commander, what about him? Where are they?”

His frown turned sympathetic, eyes softening. “Ah…he was your husband, wasn’t he?”

She remained scowling at him, breathing hard after her outburst.

“Berthold and Reiner…they told me about the battle. Your Commander led a suicide charge that killed everyone. And the Ackerm- Levi,” he corrected when the fire in her eyes blazed hotter, “fought bravely, but he couldn’t defeat the Beast Titan. I am sorry, Mila…”

“No…” she shook her head again in denial. “No…no. They’re lying.”

“They’re not ly-”

“Were you there?” She hissed at him, challenging, “did you see it?”

“Ah, well…” Zeke scratched the top of his ear, biting his lip to hold back a treacherous smile.

“Then you don’t know,” she growled, but it was more plea than accusation. He could clearly see how pitifully she was holding on to her last thread of hope. And he gleefully snipped it.

“Mila.” He looked her right in the eyes, drawing her wavering gaze until it finally settled on him.

So close, he chanted to himself as he watched for the change in her features that he knew would come. She’s so close.

“They’re all dead.”

The tiny wrinkles between her brows faded away as her eyes glossed over. Her chest heaved with shallow breaths. Zeke calculatedly reached out towards her, then paused and placed his hand on the mattress near her foot instead. He sighed, somewhat dramatically.

He watched as the hope drained from her eyes, replaced by a despair so profound it made him shudder. There was something intoxicating about the power he held, something so darkly satisfying about watching her grapple with his words. It didn’t take long for the tears to tip over her dark lashes and roll down her cheeks, the lines of her beautiful face twisting into a thing of desolation. Her body moved as if to hug her knees to her chest, but the attempt to bend her injured arm instantly made her flinch. She settled for hiding her face in her right hand instead, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. His cock jolted almost viciously at the sight.

He made sure to wait a suitable amount of time before casually patting the mattress and getting up again to draw her a bath.

She stopped him again.

“Why am I here?” Voice thick and broken, her hand fisted into the hem of his trousers to hold him back. “Why didn’t they just kill me?” She wailed softly, and he could see it in her dewy eyes that she wished they had. She wished for death like she hadn’t even two days ago when he’d lifted her out of that trunk. Left to her devices, she might even have granted herself that reprieve. But he had different plans for her.

Zeke sat down again, disentangling her hand from his clothes and holding it in his instead. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles on her skin as he drank in the pain pouring from her being.

“Because,” he explained simply, “I told them not to.”

That seemed to give her pause. Her gaze dropped to his hands softly caressing hers and she pulled away abruptly.

“Why?” she asked curtly.

Zeke raised his hands, palms out, in a gesture of capitulation. “I want to send you home, Mila.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“Home?”

“Yes.” Mila’s face was a portrait of confusion, and he wondered how to explain Paradis to her in a single sentence. He settled for, “inside the walls.”

“You mean the home where you people have been sending titans to slaughter everyone? That home?”

“Ah,” he gave her a sheepish grin, hand coming up to scratch at his ear again, “that’s the one.”

Even though she looked murderous, her lips twisted into a grin of her own as she chuckled hollowly. It devolved into a full fledged, throaty laugh and Zeke was so caught up in the grim, maniacal beauty of the sound that he failed to notice her fist close around the forgotten spoon until it was too late.

Comments, thoughts, and feedback are all greatly appreciated! ^^

[misdreavusmishap]

⚡️⚡️ RO-TO-TO! VIDEO INCOMING. ⚡️⚡️

Pewter City. What a sight, huh? Just about as simple as a small town could get. Look, some trees. A Pokécenter, and by Arceus, a Pokémart! ... Well that actually is pretty impressive, seeing a Pokémart separate from a Pokécenter. Most days they tend to be merged together. Anyways.

Derek, with Lady Zee by his side, makes his way towards Pewter City Gym, and despite the early morning scenery he would usually awe over until noon hit, he was on a mission; marching steadfast to kick off a start to this Kantonese Gym Challenge he seemed... ever so uncertain about before. Even for him, with his near-blank stare, you can see small gleams and glimmers of confidence. Zee is holding his fresh forearm cast, give or take an obvious sign of reluctance. There's some back and forth murmuring about "Are you sure you're okay?" and "I'm fine" an overabundance of times, before the two of them briefly stop in front of the door. Derek sighs out some of his predisposed adrenaline, while Zee turns her head up, regaining a friendly smile from her once worried expression.

"I think you're going to do great! I'm with you every step of the way, alright?"

Derek scoffs, smiling right back.

"Thank you."

While Derek makes some slow and graceful slides through the door, Zee is practically throwing herself in, pulling Derek some with her. A cold breeze, and a healthy amount of sand and dust later, they're in.

The place is huge, despite what it looks to be on the outside. Gyms were always like magic tardis rooms, weren't they? The Rotom recording flies around some in the open area, inspecting the blue wall, judging the dirty shirt of the singular lead-up trainer below. Seriously, it looks like he hasn't changed that thing for weeks. Derek immediately spots a path to avoid the straight road that leads to Brock, after all, who needs to battle in a gym? He runs his way around the rock-textured walls, and as much as the trainer tries to make eye contact, they remain completely ignored. Derek's on a mission, he's not here to battle every trainer he sees. Zee acknowledges them, waving with a friendly smile; But since this isn't her gym challenge, the trainer simply waves back, sighing a little. It seems this happens often enough.

Derek stumbles up the very short flight of stairs, Zee practically skipping up behind him as they face the now turned away Rock type Gym Leader. Derek hesitates, it's been a while since he's done this, hopefully he's not too rusty.

"Alola."

"Alola!"

"...Hm?"

Why, we couldn't have expected this.

It's Brock! but... with an actual sweatshirt on instead of a stupid standalone vest. And he has a beard. And a mustache. Sheesh, things must've really gone downhill for this kid since the golden days. Let me...

...

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S 43!?

An Omanyte by his side squeaks, hiding behind one of his shoes, grabbing his shin as a makeshift shield.

"Oh, Alola to you two, as well!"

The two can't help but be confused at the mirror of their greetings. Brock wasn't from Alola, was he?

"Huh? What's the matter? ...

Ohhhh.

Don't look so shocked! I took a visit there not too long ago with some old friends of mine. Besides, we get plenty of Alolan tourists around here, too. It's just part of the dialect, you know?"

"Oh, that's wonderful! You'll have to tell me about your visit after the battle!"

Derek doesn't verbally respond, he just laughs it off.

"Ah, maybe! So then, who's our contender?"

As Brock says this, he hopingly looks to Zee.

"... It's, me, actually."

"I-

Oh

RIGHT! Mr. Alloy, isn't it? Great to have you!"

"That would be correct. And thank you."

"Alright! Recognized as an experienced trainer, isn't that something?"

"...mhm..."

⚡️⚡️"AND SO BEHOLDS THE BATTLE BETWEEN A FOOL AND A MASTER. AN AMATEUR AND AN EXPERT. MAY I PRESENT. METALHEAD. AND THIS GUY. CAN YOU BOTH HURRY UP, I WANT TO GO BACK TO OUR NOT-HOME HOME."⚡️⚡️

"... I am incredibly sorry about him... I... can't exactly stop him, you see."

"Ah, all is well! Challengers tend to enjoy recording their battles often enough!"

"Hee!" ✨

"Right then! With that said, let's get on with it!"

Zee shuffles out of the frame of the camera, excusing herself to the sidelines as the battle arena seems to open up, Derek and Brock backing away from each other, hands on their Pokéballs in thought. As Zee finds herself in a comfortable position in the crowdspace, she yells

"Best of luck, cousin! You've got this!"

Normally, the starter of a battle is often determined by chance, whoever tosses their Pokéball first, and then the other compromises with the best counter. However the Leader then Challenger approach makes this process a bit easier. Instead, Brock simply flicks his wrist forward, sending the Omanyte at his side into battle. This wasn't the direction Derek was expecting this to take, the Omanyte being water type and therefore Lotus being ineffective in this situation. So instead, he grabs hold of the Dive Ball, sending out Jubilee, his newly evolved Galvantula. Zee winces at the spider, backing up much more than necessary, almost against the wall. Brock cocks his head some, but he can see what's going on. He shoots his hand out, commanding a move.

"Omanyte, Rollout, let's go!"

The Omanyte tucks into its shell, charging a spin in place before launching itself at Jubilee.

Despite taking the hit well, she does seem somewhat disoriented. She couldn't see where the attack was coming from, after all, she wasn't given any forewarning. She shakes off some kicked up rocks from her periwinkle fur, lifting up her mandibles afterwards. With some light shocks of electricity, she searches for her target.

left. zip

right. zap

left right. zip zap.

warmer. zip zip.

Gotcha.

Derek takes notice of Jubilee's newfound awareness, and acts accordingly.

"Jubilee, Electro Ball."

With one, two, three notches of charge, she fires the ball of electricity at the small water type, nearly taking it out in one hit. It shivers, struggling to get itself back up on its tentacles.

"Agh, you alright, buddy? I know you're new at this,"

Brock leans down, giving the Omanyte a comforting pat on the shell. It trills, shaking the shock off of itself and prepping itself for the next attack. Brock nods, standing back up.

"Alright, Rollout, one more time!"

This time, Jubilee knew it was coming. She knew where the Omanyte was. She knows the amount of time it took for the Rollout to hit after the attack was commanded. She jumps out of the way, and out of pure instinct, uses Electroweb on the Omanyte now below it. Upon the attack landing, the fossil Pokémon faints, retreating back into its Pokéball.

"... Huh. Would you look at that."

Zee cheers, though jumping when the spider turns in her direction; acknowledging the sound of her voice. By all means, Derek did not call that move, but it was within the turn pattern, so it didn't call for a disqualification. It was odd, but Pokémon develop habits and methods to their madness, so every one's battling style is bound to be different. He grabs for his belt, throwing out his Graveler, who happily punches all four of its fists together to pump itself up. Derek takes a moment to assess the risks here, and decides to withdraw Jubilee; swapping her with Lotus, who turns to look at Derek for treats almost immediately, rather than acknowledging the battle.

"... No, no... Lotus, turn around, please."

You can almost see the spider mouth "oh" as it sees its opponent, swiftly switching to a battling stance rather than a friendly, socializing one. Before Derek can send out a command, briefly forgetting who's turn it was, Brock confidently shouts out a move.

"Self Destruct, let's go!"

It's much before Derek can react. 1. 2. 3. Explosion. The blast nearly takes out Lotus with it, but the Graveler holds on, even after seeming to sacrifice its health. He takes a moment to catch up to what's just happened, but quickly ciphers a response.

"Scald."

And with a prep, and a sudden ray of boiling water, the Graveler is down as well.

"Hey, not bad! Just about what I expected. Don't expect me to go easy on you from here on, though."

"Mhm.."

With another snap of Brocks belt, he sends out his Kabutops, who seems immediately ready for battle, just like the last Pokémon. It crouches down some, ready to lunge towards Lotus well before he could be withdrawn.

"Absorb!"

The Kabutops holds its razor sharp hands together, drawing a green aura in the air around it, before lunging it towards Lotus, then reeling it back towards itself. With the remainder of Lotus' energy drained, he faints, collapsing to the gym floor before being swiftly returned to his pokéball. Derek looks visibly pained, of course after he boasted about how easy this gym would be, it now proved to be somewhat of a challenge. Most of the pokémon on his team were essentially useless here, either not being the right level or not having a proper typing advantage; hell, one not even having fighting moves at all, just Innards Out as an ability. In a panic, he switches back to Jubilee, who immediately begins searching for her target again.

Locked.

"Jubilee, Electroweb."

Jubilee spins around once, before raising her head and spitting out the attack from her mouth. Within seconds, the Kabutops is now encased in a static-bound web; and as much as it tries to cut through the threads with its claw-like hands, it's only tangling itself more and more. Although Brock tries to command it to use a move, it's completely stuck, it can hardly get up off the ground. Instead, Derek commands once again, shooting his hand out.

"Electro Ball."

And with a sudden blast, the Kabutops is down as well, Electroweb dissipating as it collapses into its fainted stance. With that, it only leaves one opponent at the stakes; though unfortunate to deal with, given that Lotus has fainted to the aforementioned Kabutops. Out slithers the Onix, towering over Brock and wrapping itself like a snake ready to attack around the stadium. It looks down at the Galvantula below it, then roars.

Jubilee looks in its direction, chattering with confusion. That was a loud noise. What was that loud noise?

Right.

Derek retreats Jubilee. but. Now what does he do? He can't-

...

well he could.

With a rare snatch to his 6th bag lock, he grabs Pyuku's pokéball, sending it out onto the battlefield. Despite Brock's time in Alola, he doesn't seem to recognize this thing at all. Upon the switch in team members, though, it's once again Brock's turn, and there's only one way this could go.

And just as he thought, Brock goes for an exceedingly powerful move.

"Alright, Onix, you know the drill! Take Down, let's finish this!"

The snakely rock slithers around Brock a couple of times, before speeding up, marking the perimeter of the stadium, speeding up, faster and faster as it goes, an orange aura begins to make itself evident around the creature's face. Once the force of energy turns a yellowish-white, it makes an impact on Pyuku, practically squishing it inside out.

And after a moment, Brock begins to realize what's happened.

With one hit, Brock's not only managed to one hit K.O. the Pyukumuku, but his own Pokémon as well, which has now been covered with multiple of Pyuku's hands, as to visually represent how it'd dragged its opposer down with it. And with that final debunkle, the battle is over, and Derek proves victorious.

Though grossed out by the choice in Pokémon, Zee uproars once again.

"Aaaaa! See! You did so well!"

... Derek pauses to think for a moment, but his once stoic and well-invested expression breaks off, showing a cheeky smirk underneath. What a way to start a Tuesday, huh? Zee runs over, tackle-hugging her cousin in the sheer excitement of victory-- only for Derek to now be doubled over in pain.

"Zee. Zee Back"

"Oh-

Arc I'm sorry!!! I'm just-"

"You don't need to explain yourself. I'm happy, too."

He laughs, backing away from the hug, the two of them exchanging grins for a moment before Brock beckons the air in front of Derek; holding something behind his back.

"Well, you won, fair and square. I completely forgot Pyukumuku's entire offense was. That. I do think I owe you something, though."

⚡️⚡️ RO-TO-TO! VIDEO END. ⚡️⚡️

Dialogue Key:

(Derek)

(Zee)

(Brock)

⚡️⚡️(Tik)⚡️⚡️

Lady Zee belongs to the blogrunner of @ladyzee-oddityhunter! Big thanks to her for letting me include her in this piece of writing ^ ^

If anyone would like to use my aged up Brock design in your canon, feel free! Just please remember to give credit via @spikyegg. Thanks for reading!

[edwardos]

[Minecraft Blog 2024 500th Post]

Edwardos is a small blog, but it's come a long way. So has my modding skill in the last 15 months. Welcome to an incomplete exhibition of what I've spent that time working on, a work-in-progress Minecraft Beta 1.8 revision mod. It's called Noticeably Beta 1.8, and here come some of its sparkly images!

Starting out this afternoon with a fresh NBODE survival world so I can naturally show you what's in it, you can see I have no hunger bar... Note also the orthogonal grass.

I think that tall grass looks way better. It was a real challenge to implement, too. One of the first changes I did!

Hunger has no place in a mod like this. The purpose of Noticeably Beta 1.8 is to revise Beta 1.8 until it's still familiarly Beta 1.8, but considerably good. I am trying to turn a copy of Beta 1.8 into the ultimate patch based on Beta 1.8 (for now).

Tall grass cuttings and dead bushes can be obtained easily by attacking them with any sword.

I deliberately wrecked the achievement system's shit - e.g. I got rid of that annoying notification to open your inventory every time you start the game from scratch - but it's more unintentionally broken than I thought, more to come on that later.

I have reprised my Chain Links days by adding the logical chainmail armour crafting to this mod as well. The chain links are in the inventory's bottom right.

We have a Survival Test style score counter in NBODE. Actually, we also have one for experience.

In a new house. It uses four of my new blocks in this image alone. I'll leave you to work that out...

Noticeably Beta 1.8 is spooky. There are a lot of Creepers. I'm not responsible for that part, I think Beta 1.8 just literally spawns more Creepers. And you can't sprint. I'll let you off the hook, that ceiling is hard sand. I was inspired by a grungy sand castle in a cartoon I saw to make a variant of sand that doesn't fall. It's smarter than you think.

Emeralds generate at high altitudes, but not in a way that you just see them plastered all over the sides of rock cliffs.

The emeralds can be crafted into tools. But not armour. It's smarter than you think.

I was being chased by this Creeper in SECOND-PERSON MODE.

In a stroke of fortune he revealed two of the other features I was supposed to showcase, invisible clay deposits and mineral gravel.

Mineral gravel has random drops of dust stuff, and like emeralds it's in the mountains.

You can do this.

It wouldn't be Beta 1.8 without newly having access to these.

The idea with building blocks in this mod is that you don't find different kinds of rocks in the ground to craft those. Instead, you collect OG rocks and gravelly deposits and you mix them together until you get tarmac, or soilstone. Or soilstone cobble (which was a totally original texture and REALLY hard to draw). Or varnished sandstone. Or broad sandstone. Or hard sand. The underground stays classically uniform.

I didn't have time to find that other one, but this isn't the only new gem I've added. My take on balancing is goooooooood...

Giant mushrooms in Beta are fantastic. Now you can make food out of any of them.

And they stack to two now.

That's not very noteworthy in a hunger system Minecraft game, but when starvation is totally gone and food instantly heals hearts, having 8.0 points on your hotbar slot at once is a big deal.

I'll be real with you, this is an annoying bug I have to fix. You may have noticed that this is the second time this post has seen me get the wooden sword achievement now. It's a pretty bad one. I only discovered it while playing this version tonight.

Now, some of my other vicious fix attempts on the other hand, now those...

Those are on point.

And that leaves us with the end of Post 500 for this convenience storefront of Tumblr. But before I go, I gotta say something... I started this mod in December 15 of 2022, and it's been a real journey. I've been proud of my idea to do this with Beta 1.8 since it was just an idea. And it's more than an idea now, it's the tangible result of a newbie modder with not much Java experience spending months of effort to get better at the job than he ever dreamed.

However, there's a sad side... With Minecraft, I've for a long time been absolutely terrified of plagiarists, or people otherwise getting to claim my ideas before I can. Actually my life on every topic is like that. I have too many ideas and I want to somehow protect all eleventy of them. I can't really say why, but I am feeling the pressure to get the full release of the first patch of Alpha of this mod done in a short amount of time so I can release it publicly as fast as I can. I'm feeling halfway certain my time is running out. I don't want to lose the race, if there is one. See, I had it within reason that I was going to be the first to make a revision mod of Beta 1.8. It makes sense, right? And as far as I know I'm the only person who calls this genre of mod a "revision mod". Nobody in the Minecraft community seems to popularly take Beta 1.8 seriously, not retro fans or people on the new edge. I was smart enough to realize it might have a special set of hidden talents, even though it's known as the "hated" update. But somebody else might screw with that. Can call it paranoia, hopefully.

Thanks for reading my blog. It's not "taken off", but on any posting day I see random 5 note clusters in my activity immediately when I get posting, and honestly I guess I just want to say that makes me happy. Now let's hope I can achieve another one of my dreams.

[justamanlookingforham]

Maybe-if you can hear me, then maybe it means I'm real....

Summary: skip button ending, the Narrator's despairing over Stanley pushing the button, he can't sand this silence anymore...but then he thinks of a solution :)

Warnings: general angst, major character death, descriptive violence and death, panic attack kinda

That should be it

My first uploaded fic! I hope I got the Narrator's voice right.

Sorry for any mistakes, I double checked but I am dyslexic so....eh

The end is never the end is never the end is never the end is[Loading]never the end is

He loaded in his avatar. He had hoped, with a foolish optimism, that perhaps if he touched Stanley, jostled him, shaked him, moved in some way, perhaps this absolute nightmare would be done with.

His hope was in vain.

He stood infront of Stanley, and if he had to be honest...looking at his protagonist face to face scared him.

Isn't that something? To fear that which you've created. But gazing at him here, and not in the distant monitor's of his omniscient office, well it allowed him to really see Stanley's eyes.

He was sure Stanley's eyes normally buzzed with life. They likely shone when he did something he knew would get on the Narrator's nerves. And they definitely rolled when the Narrator scolded him. But now they were void of emotion, and the only thing they reflected were the grains of dust depending from the ceiling. And this absolute apathy looked wrong on Stanley's face. So wrong he wanted to wipe it off. So wrong that his hands shook as he moved to grip Stanley's shoulder. The pads of the Narrators fingers grazed the rough texture of his work suit.

Nothing.

He pressed his fingers down.

Nothing.

He clasped both hands around Stanley's arms and shook him.

Nothing.

He foolishly beat a dead horse and called out Stanley's name.

Nothing.

He grinded his teeth. His voice shook and his desperate mind delusional him as he began to call louder. More desperately. He dug his fingers into Stanley's arms, hard enough to draw blood if either of them were actual people.

Still nothing.

He felt heavy. He wasn't used to that feeling. He wasn't use to having a body in the first place. He felt like he was being mangled from the inside. Needless to say he didn't much cafe for it.

"Please... Stanley......."

But Stanley's absent eyes remained. Hallow and peering through him. Not even blinking.

The feeling of his insides morphed, now heavy and cold. It clogged his throat and fogged his brain with thoughts that spiraled down into an abyss.

He was alone. And he couldn't describe this feeling to anyone, because no one was there. He was all alone. He has no Stanley to listen to him. To respond in his own non-verbal way. In fact thinking of Stanley made it worse. Much worse if he had to say. It was painful. It was painful, and- and wet, and so cold. Why was loneliness so cold. Why did he feel so hallow on the inside. Like everything meaningful was forcefully scraped out and now all that was left was a Grey shell.

He let go of Stanley to soothe himself to, but this proved to be a stupid and careless act. He had tilted Stanley's center of mass while he could do not but watch, to frozen by his new found grief to move in time.

Stanley's head met the concrete with a smack, making the Narrator wince. Naturally he bent down to check for injuries on his protagonist and he'd love to say he kept it together but that would simply be alive. It was useless to do, but he found himself silently crying anyway.

"Oh, dear boy"

He pressed his hand to Stanley's head and fluffy hair met his wrinkled hands.

"Please forgive this fool"

His voice shriveled at the word fool and with that he broke into open sobs. The sound of insecent crying was the only sound in the cold dusty room, but with Stanley gone there might as well been no sound at all.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry"

He didn't know what to do. He couldn't get rid of the blasted button. The door disappeared somehow, and he couldn't force a restart.

The only natural way for the game to restart would be to finish the ending or for Stanley to...well die.

He looked down at Stanley's pale, unmoving form. The Narrator had closed his eyes so he looked as if he were peacefully sleeping and would wake up soon.

...If Stanley dies the game would restart.

He slowly dragged his hands down, letting the one in Stanley's hair trail across the soft skin forehead, cheek, chin, and then neck.

He felt apprehensive. Surely this would work right? It had to! The game always restarted after Stanley died. It was one if the key rules to this universe. Then again he was also supposed to be able to control this world and look where he was now.

The thought made him shiver. What if he killed Stanley and the game didn't restart. He'd be alone. He'd be truly alone. Forever. His hands started shaking. They very idea made him sick to his stomach. But then again, how did he that he wasn't already destined to forever be alone with the way this path was going. What if Stanley wasn't going to wake up? It had already been... well he didn't actually know. Time was already peculiar without the stupid button. For all he knew it could have been a few minutes sense the last button push or a few millenia. Eons were cramming into his brain pounding on the inner walls of his head, and all he knew was that he couldn't stand another second .

He again looked down at Stanley's peaceful form. Slowly his grip on Stanley's neck tightened. Well it would only be a second, wouldn't it?

His thick hands pressed harder into pale skin. He hoped Stanley was gone enough to not feel this. Perhaps that thought was just to ease his conscious.

The Narrator felt vile when he heard a strangled cough beneath him so he closed his eyes. He decided to think of his times with Stanley. The fun times. When they playfully bickered with eachother.

A troubled gasp. Then tighter grip.

Soon They'd be back to those times. Stanley would forgive him. He surely would. Stanley's died in plenty of endings before. This isn't any different.

Theres shivering underneath his hands. It quickly stops and then-

[The end is never the end is never the end

is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end

is never the end is Loading is never the end

is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end

is never the end]

...

"This is the story of a man named Stanley"

[convexicalcrow]

Today's mood was 'procrastinate on the mortuary temple by doing the oasis room' so. :D It was a bit tricky to work the entrance in around the pillar but I think I managed it. It's kinda hidden away, like you can't easily see it. Which is why I added all the cherry leaves so it stood out a lil more. :D Also, particles. I wanted the pretty particles. <3

I wanted to expand on the theme from the flower corridor on the other side of the pyramid. I didn't want to make it look too stylistically different from the rest of the pyramid, so I borrowed the same pillar design from there but used it on the edges of the room instead of down the middle. It's been adapted a little bit to fit but it's essentially the same design.

The room has a lot - and I mean A LOT - of vertical space while also being quite narrow, so I decided to make these little walkways around the edge of the room to still make it feel Big and Grand even though it's not that big. I got two floors of this and there was STILL ROOM above that. A LOT of room.

This is the rest of the room that leads to a balcony outside like the front has. It's simple, and maybe I could add more on the carpeted area, but I'm not sure I will. Also I think the biome blending really gives the trees a much nicer look than if they were all the same colour.

This is what I built (VERY CAREFULLY D:) around the door Cub put in, just to make it feel like it fit in a bit more. I wanted to keep with the colour palette, to keep it ornate, but not decorated like the front. No colour, just shapes and textures. And I think it looks much better. I'll probably put in something similar on the balcony as there is on the front, but that's for later. And it might change a bit still but that's the basic design.

What I want to do is take this idea of sand having piled up around the door and extend that around the entrance here, and perhaps around the base of the pyramid. Maybe there's some strong winds coming in from the mesa behind it that's pushed all the sand up against the walls. That kind of thing. I also want to tidy up the terracotta on the side to the left of this one that's all just starkly cut out, and make that look more natural.

This is the space I had above once I was done with the pillars and flowers and such. I haven't quite decided what to do with it, but I might do some more oasis-like gardens and pools. Make it like a healing space maybe. I had thought about making little ponds or hills of dirt, little spots of more organic landscaping up here as opposed to the formality below. But we'll see. It definitely needs a pool or pond or some kind of water thing tho.

I'm thinking this might be a small chapel or shrine area, or perhaps some kind of storage idk yet. It's really too small to do anything useful with but I don't want to leave it empty. So we'll see what I come up with when I tackle this floor.

Also finally I, uh, got myself a Pharaoh head. >_> bc it didn't feel right to just have old man Cub up there. It needed to be the Pharaoh. And, Cub, dammit, didn't have any Pharaoh heads in his storage, just Old Man Cub heads. XD So I had to do it myself.

honestly my java skin history is A Mess bc I don't have a default skin at all like I do when I play Bedrock so it's just a whole pile of random skins, Hermit skins, and whatever else takes my fancy lol. XD I think my player character on java must be some sort of void eldritch creature the way they have no known form and take on other ppl's instead.

...it's not bc i refuse to learn how to edit skins it's just my vibes i swear XD