#mushroom sweep ... without a doubt i knew it .....

[mushroom-winners-proof]

*slides my main sketch book cover I made when I accidentally got paint on the flap and then blacked out and became conscious again to that*

This was all it was and yes I am still finishing my todays tunes but it’s something small so I can squeeze it in :) also majestic mushroom shield won one of the other rounds so :)))

OOH pretty :]] epic even :]]]

[thetravelerwrites]

Growing Pains (Centaur Dads)

Rating: General Audiences Additional Tags: Adoption, Gay Dads, Exophilia, Centaurs, Kids Series: Part 17 of Shelter Forest: The Towns Words: 2,068

When their son comes home from school upset, two centaurs must figure out how to have The Big Talk about what adoption means. Please reblog and leave feedback!

Rollie stalked through the front door with his head down and dropped his writing board by the hall tree. Without bothering to say anything to his fathers, he immediately went to his room, not quite slamming the door but certainly shutting it with more force than normal. Beyram, a Rahvan centaur, and Alphons, a Haflinger centaur, looked at each other in concern and made their way through the open layout of their cottage, knocking on their son’s door. Rollie was a bright, happy eight-year-old child, so for him to be silent and brooding was wildly out of character.

“Rollie?” Beyram asked. “Everything alright?”

Rollie didn’t answer. 

“We’re coming in, alright, son?” 

Again, Rollie said nothing, and his fathers eased the door open. Rollie sat on his bed with his arms crossed sullenly, a tear rolling down his face. 

“Hey, buddy,” Alphons said gently, patting his back softly. Both centaurs folded their legs carefully and knelt next to the bed. “What’s going on? What’s got you so upset?” 

“The kids at school make fun of me,” He said. “They said it’s weird that you both have four legs and that I only have two. They said it means that I’m not your real son.” 

Alphons and Beyram looked at each other and winced. They knew that they’d have to have this conversation eventually, but they hadn’t known it would be so soon. Rollie had only just started going to the local school, and while he enjoyed it at first, he slowly seemed to become more introverted. Now they knew why. 

“Listen, buddy,” Alphons said. “You are our real son. Just because we adopted you doesn’t mean you’re not our son.”

“Adopted?” Rollie asked, looking up in confusion. “What does that mean?” 

“Well,” Beyram began reluctantly. “Da and Pa can’t have babies like other families can–”

“Why not?” Rollie asked guilelessly.

“Oh, god, we don’t need to have this conversation too, do we?” Alphons said in an undertone. Beyram ignored the question.

“Since we can’t have babies the normal way, we decided to look as hard as we could for a child that we could love, and we found you and brought you home with us. That’s what adoption is. It doesn’t matter that we’re centaurs and you’re human, you’re still our son. You’re someone we picked out specially. We chose to love you and be your fathers.”

Rollie frowned, still looking confused. “I don’t understand.” 

Alphons and Beyram looked at each other, at a loss for what to say. 

“So… I am different from you? You’re not really my parents?” 

“No, that’s not it at all!” Alphons insisted. “Of course you’re our son! You can’t ever doubt that! You’re our son and we love you!”

“Listen, son,” Beyram said. “Let’s take a trip tomorrow. We’ll show you what we mean. Alright?” 

“A trip to where?” 

“The place we found you. It’s called an orphanage. It’s where you became our son. Would you like to go see it?”

After a moment of contemplation, Rollie nodded. “Alright.”

The next day, Rollie sat on Alphons’s back and the three of them set off for Coleville, where there was an orphanage that was run by a lizardman named Cetzu and his human wife. It took about a week for them to get there since they traveled slowly and took frequent breaks. They wanted Rollie to have fun on the trip as much as he could, so they went camping and mushroom picking and frog hunting and lots of little activities that Rollie loved to do. He seemed in much better spirits during the journey. 

They reached Coleville and went straight to the orphanage, where Cetzu was outside, sweeping the front steps. Alphons and Beyram had sent a letter to Cetzu in advance, so he had been expecting them.

“This is where you lived before we adopted you,” Beyram said as they came up to the building. “You were only a baby back then, so it’s no surprise you don’t remember.” 

“I lived here?” Rollie asked. “Why?” 

Alphons nudged Beyram, and he fell silent. As far as they were aware, Rollie had been left on the doorstep of the orphanage when he was only a few days old. Thankfully, the orphanage regularly paid mothers in the town to be wet nurses for the infants, otherwise Rollie would have starved. They weren’t sure how to break it to Rollie that he had been abandoned, and had carefully avoided answering direct questions. They knew they’d have to explain it at some point in the trip, but they were dreading that conversation. 

“Welcome!” Cetzu said, rushing forward to shake hands with the centaurs as they arrived. Cetzu was quite tall, but the centaurs dwarfed him by a wide margin. “I’ve been waiting for you. My goodness, is this Rollie? He’s gotten so big!” 

Rollie wasn’t normally shy with strangers, but the nature of the trip had caused a bit of trepidation in him, and he hid a little behind Beyram’s foreleg. 

“Hi,” He said in a small voice. 

“Hello, there,” Cetzu said brightly. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember me, you were barely a year when you left us.” 

“Da and Pa said I lived here when I was a baby,” Rollie said. 

“That’s right,” Cetzu said. “My wife and I looked after you until your fathers came to get you. Would you like to come in and meet the other kids?” 

Rollie nodded and stepped forward toward the garden where about ten other children were playing. He only needed a small amount of encouragement before he was darting around with them, playing chase. 

“We really need your help, Cetzu,” Alphons said a little desperately. “We’ve been hedging the question, but we can’t avoid it forever. How are we supposed to explain that he was abandoned?” 

“Well, we don’t know that he was abandoned, necessarily,” Cetzu said. “It’s entirely possible that his parents died or met with an unfortunate fate. It does happen.” 

“You know what I mean, though,” Alphons insisted. “He keeps asking why. We don’t know how to explain it to him without hurting him.” 

“Well…” Cetzu said sadly. “There may be no avoiding a little bit of upset, I’m afraid. But your job as his parents is to reassure him that he’s loved. Regardless of why his birth parents gave him up, you chose him and you love him. Just make sure he knows that. That’s really the most important thing.” 

“Yes…” Beyram said, watching his son play and laugh. 

“Maybe ask the other kids to help you,” Cetzu suggested. “You’d be surprised how well kids grasp these concepts, regardless of their age. They’re all dying to get adopted. If Rollie hears how excited the kids are to find their own parents, he may understand how special it is to be chosen.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Alphons. “It’s is alright to talk to the children?” 

“Of course,” Cetzu said, stepping aside and waving to the children. “Go right ahead, I’m sure they’d be happy to.” 

Beyram and Alphons stepped into the garden fence. The kids stopped their game and gathered around the centaurs, their faces curious. It wasn’t surprising: centaurs were unusual here on this continent. Beyram and Alphons only knew of two or three others in the region, and they very rarely crossed paths with them. 

“Circle time, kids!” Cetzu said, motioning for them to sit. “Leave room for our new friends.” 

The kids circled up and sat expectantly. Cetzu sat with them and instructed Beyram, Alphons, and Rollie to sit alongside them.

“So,” Cetzu said. “Our new friend Rollie just found out he is adopted. What do you all think about that?” 

Every one of the children raised their hands. 

“Coby?” Cetzu said, pointing at a young boy of perhaps seven. 

“I think it’s great!” Coby said. “I can’t wait to get adopted!” 

“Why?” Rollie asked him. 

“Because I want to have a family, like all my friends from town. I want to have parents and siblings who love me.” 

“How do you know they’ll love you?” 

“Why would they adopt me if they didn’t want to love me?” Coby asked, his head tilted. 

Rollie looked introspective. “How come you don’t have parents? What happened to them?” 

“Nothing,” Coby said matter-of-factly. “They just didn’t want me.” 

“Why?”

“Rollie, that’s rude,” Beyram said in an undertone, but Cetzu shook his head. 

“It’s alright,” Cetzu said, turning back to Coby. “Do you want to answer that question?” 

Coby shrugged. “I don’t know why they didn’t want me,” Coby said. “But that’s not my fault. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m great.” 

The other kids laughed, and Rollie cracked a smile. He still seemed a little confused, but he kept asking the others questions. The others had similar things to say, that they were abandoned or that their parents died or couldn’t take care of them for whatever reason. Beyram and Alphons weren’t sure if Rollie really understood, but they were happy he seemed engaged in the conversation. 

Rollie asked them if they really wanted to be adopted, and they all said yes. When asked why, the answer was the same: They wanted what every other kid in town had. They wanted a family. They wanted to be loved.

Rollie asked the other kids questions for hours, until the sun began to set. Cetzu invited the family to have dinner there, and they accepted. After dinner, Beyram and Alphons left a large donation to the orphanage and left for the local inn. It had a stable room that was rented out to four legged folks, and Beyram booked it. 

As they were settling down for the evening and laying out Rollie’s bedroll, Alphons asked, “Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m alright,” Rollie said, getting under the blanket. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” He said, looking up at his fathers, who were kneeling next to him. “I get it now. I’m special. That’s why you chose me, right?” 

Beyram smiled. “That’s right. You see,” He said, scratching his neck. “When Da and I got married and began living together, we always knew we wanted to have children, but we knew we couldn’t go about it the normal way. We always knew we needed to go about it differently than other families, so we knew we were going to adopt. It took us time to get the house set up the way we wanted and get everything prepared, but as soon as we did, we started looking for our baby.” 

Alphons nodded. “It was a while and a lot of trial and error, and we were worried we may not find the right one, but then we saw you, and it just clicked. We realized you were our child, and you always had been. It just took us a while to find you.” 

Rollie looked pensive. “What happened to my other parents?” 

Alphons sighed, apprehensive. “We don’t know, son. All we know is that Mr. Cetzu and his wife found you outside on the doorstep. There could be any reason why, but we don’t really know.” 

“Hmm…” Rollie hummed. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Rollie said, standing up out of his bed and throwing his arms around Alphons’s neck for a hug, and then did the same to Beyram. “You’re my parents now. And you love me, right?” 

“Of course,” Alphons said, ruffling Rollie’s hair. “We love you very, very much.” 

“Absolutely,” Beyram said. “We’ve loved you since the day we laid eyes on you, and we always will. You’re our son.” 

“Then it’s fine,” Rollie said, getting back into his bedroll. “Goodnight, Da. Goodnight, Pa.”

“Goodnight, son,” Beyram said. 

“Goodnight, buddy,” Alphons replied. 

Rollie wanted to stay another few days before returning, so it was almost another two weeks before they made it back home. Beyram and Alphons were both worried that Rollie wouldn’t want to return to school, but contrary to their expectations, he wanted to return right away. 

When he returned home from school the first day back, he gave his fathers a hug around the middle and sat at his little table for a snack.

“How was school, son?” Beyram asked. “Did the kids pick on you again?” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t care,” He said nonchalantly. “They didn’t get chosen, so they don’t know anything.” 

Beyram and Alphons smiled, kissed the top of Rollie’s head, and gave him his apple slices.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[manias-wordcount]

sitting on spikes lap please it is all i think about

Mushroom Sonata (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼! 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝟭𝟳 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗲 (𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗮/𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲) 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼/𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘄 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗮 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁. 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

He’s not sure how he ended up being so lucky with you.

“Shh, shh it’s okay. You’re okay.” He finds himself softly cooing when the quiet noises you’re making start to sound distressed. “Just stay still for me, okay.”

He has you situated on his lap- a perfect little fit. His arm slung around your waist, only tight enough to lock you in place and prevent you from stumbling off again. Your hands are gripping his forearm, but you're not trying to pull him off. Instead, you seem mesmerized by it. As if you’re not completely sure where it's coming from. At least, that's what you’re like when you’re not insistent on squirming around and putting up a fight for the sake of being difficult.

“Umm…” You mumble out an incoherent response as you turn to sit sideways in his lap and look at him. He meets your eyes, and he can tell you’re not all there. You’re staring past him, blinking slowly and lips quivering in a frustrated pout. “Uh…”

It’s hard watching you like this. All confused and flustered. He tried to explain to you what happened- that you must have had a worse reaction out of all of them or that you must have eaten more than one. Whatever the reason was, you were still obviously under the influence of the mushrooms. He came off his high feeling like his head was full of cotton and his body like lead. When the group found you, curled up and sleeping off your buzz, admittedly he felt a sense of relief knowing you didn’t have to go through what he’s facing at the moment.

But then, you woke up.

There was no doubt that it was still in your system when the first thing he saw you do was to try to walk over a ledge as if there was still ground beneath your feet. Naturally, he caught you. Just barely managing to sweep you off your feet and into his arms in the nick of time. There’s no way he would let you get yourself hurt so easily, but the second he put you back down on the ground you were off again. This time, giddily tripping over your own feet as you bounded over to Jet. And by the time you were caught about to faceplant once more on your way to visit “Faye-Faye!”, Spike knew he had to intervene. Simply monitoring you wasn’t going to be enough. Not when your usually docile and quiet demeanor had been thrown out the window the moment you felt like you were floating on a cloud.

You weren’t content with going back to your room. You’d lay down on your bed for a second, get distracted with something on the other side of your room, and then you’d be on your feet, trying to escape. Even with Spike standing in your doorframe and body blocking the exit, you were very adamant about trying to push past him. Eventually, he relented and allowed you to sit in front of the TV if you behaved and watched quietly. But then you started to grow upset. He couldn’t tell what was wrong- just that you were growing antsy, fidgeting a lot more, and not looking at the TV as much.

Without thinking, he turned off the TV reached out a hand to place on your shoulder, and ask if you were alright. What he didn’t expect to see was you all teary-eyed and frowning before grabbing his arm and tugging him down beside you while burying your face in his chest. He should have forced you to go to bed at that point. To lay down, give you his headphones, and just sit with you in your room until you eventually dozed off so you could sleep away the rest of your high. But how could he? Now that you’re curled up in his lap, all nice and pretty, he’s having a hard time thinking about letting you go.

As if he was strong enough to do so in the first place.

“I got you…”  He hums lowly, his hand coming up to rub your side affectionately. Selfishly, he does it by your ear just to see how sensitive you are in this state. To his amusement, you instant shiver at the sound, before making another wordless sound of frustration and tucking your face in his neck. “Nothing bad is gonna happen while I’m here, alright?”

It takes a long time, but you do respond. It’s just a small nod. Something that would have been barely noticeable if it weren’t for the way he can’t help by hyperfocus on you. Especially when you’re not able to fend for or control yourself entirely. But it’s enough of reaction to tell that you’re starting to calm down. Starting to think straight at least, and right now that’s all he could hope for.

After the little moment of reassurance he gave you, the air between you too starts to grow quiet. You’re not fidgeting as much. For the most part, you’ve seemed to have grown completely still. Though you still have your moments, you haven’t tried to wrestle yourself out of his grip anymore. All you do is try to make yourself comfortable in his lap. Sometimes, you even wrap your arms around him and try to hold him closer. Part of him wishes he could see his own face right now. There’s no way there’s no a stupid grin plastered all over his face with the way you’ve been clinging to him so needily. It’s all he can do to stop himself from saying something he’d regret.

Something like “I love you.”

But for now, he just sits there on the couch and holds you in the silence. Enjoying the way you fit comfortably in his arms as if he was made to embrace you. Enjoying the soft sensation of your eyelashes dragging against his skin as you keep your face tucked against the skin of his neck. Enjoying the tiny puffs of your rapidly evening breath, a sure sign that you’re almost in dreamland. Enjoying you.

And maybe once you’re feeling better, you could enjoy something like this with him too.

[handy-dandy-monster-candy]

Louis

Rating: SFW Length: 1412 Pairing: Male Vampire Lover x Male Vampire Reader

For my sweet anon, who wanted domestic vampires.

xxx

“They’ll be gathering the pitchforks soon,” I say, chuckling as I peek through behind the curtains to the town at the bottom of our hill.

“Hm?” hums my lover, Louis—a statuesque man with hair and eyes as gold as a king’s crown. “Who, my love?”

“The townsfolk,” I impishly reply, coming away from the window to cross the room to where Louis sits, reading. I flounce my way onto his lap and he huffs his amusement, tossing his book onto the small table beside his winged chair and gathering me into his muscular arms.

“Do they whisper about us still?” he asks, smiling with his fangs on display.

“Always,” I say, tucking his hair away from his face and leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

Louis hums his content, squeezing me gently. “Let them talk,” he whispers, nuzzling his nose down against mine in a bunny kiss. “What fault is it of mine that I didn’t know the old baker had died years ago?”

“It’s my fault for craving his fruit tarts after so many years,” I grumble, pouting; I was an excellent chef and baker in my own right, but some cooks kept their secrets guarded jealously, and I could never recreate that particular baker’s tarts to my satisfaction. “Do you think they’ll let me copy his recipe book now that he’s gone?”

“I’d gladly steal it for you,” says Louis, smiling softly and slowly in that way that lets me know he’s all about mischief.

“Louis! I’d never want to leave them without their tarts.”

My lover makes an irritable noise in the back of his throat. “Much more charitable than I,” he mutters, pressing kiss after sweet kiss to my lips. “I would deny them everything if it gave you what you wanted.”

“I know,” I giggle, squirming happily under his onslaught. “Because you love me.”

“Because I adore you,” he corrects, standing up and setting me daintily on my feet. “Because I worship you, the only man I consider my equal, my minx, my muse, my inspiration.”

“Flatterer,” I laugh, feeling myself flush with pleasure; he always knew how to make my heart flutter as gaily as a boy’s after all these years.

Louis takes my hands and kisses them, nipping at my knuckles with his sharp incisors. “It is all true,” he says, drawing me close just to spin me away from himself, but never too far away to reel me back in so that we dance chest to chest. “You are my recovery.”

This stirs my heart more than I can express. I remember a time when Louis was a tormented soul, feeding upon humans and starving himself in the times between, weak and trembling and pale. Now, we feed upon our healthy cattle and never to excess, and my lover is graceful and flushed beneath his golden skin. He moves with confidence instead of shame, and his magic comes to him quietly and steadily instead of being a wild and intemperate thing.

“Come downstairs and brush the girls with me,” I wheedle, trying to distract him from his amorous thoughts.

“In a moment,” he says, humming an old and beautiful tune as he takes me around the room. He’s watching me intently, and at my questioning look, he says, “Your eyes are the most beautiful colour I have ever seen, my sylph.”

I flush all the way down to my neck, biting my lower lip with my own fang. “They’re only brown,” I mumble, dismissive.

“They are like the finest red wine in the sunlight,” he insists, voice quiet and tone earnest. “Like burnt sugar and rich clay and all of what our flowers grow in.”

“Louis!” I say around my laughter, spluttering and shying away from him. “How silly you sound, you gilded god!”

Louis grins and kisses the inside of my wrist, up along my arm. “And you are my caramel dryad, whose very touch brings life.”

“Stop it, you goose egg!” I’m all a-titter, laughing like a vapid coquette. “Come downstairs and spend time with me outside of this stuffy library.”

“You decorated this library,” he reminds me, taking my arm and sweeping me out of the offending room.

“And I think it looks appropriately stuffy, like a library should,” I reasonably reply, feeling mischief making my old bones light and my steps airy. “Shall we tend to the garden together? The magnolias are in full bloom.”

“I know it,” he says, leading me down the stairs and through the old kitchens to the back yard. “I saw Matilda dozing beneath one earlier, with flowers on her horns.”

“Oh, I hope she births soon,” I murmur, anxiety fluttering in my chest.

Louis brings my hand up to kiss, nipping my knuckles sharply this time, to get my attention and turn my thoughts away from my fretting. “She’ll be fine. She’s done this once before.”

“Oh, I know,” I tut, mostly at myself, “but you know she’s my favourite.”

“Is she?”

“Don’t give me that look. Second to you, as always.”

“Hm.”

“Pouty baby.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“You’re pouting on the inside.”

“You can see inside of me? How exposing.”

“Only sometimes,” I say, linking my fingers between his as we walk down to where our cows are still grazing on pasture as the sun goes down. “Sometimes you’re like a wall, but the wall still has writing on it.”

“I should hope that you can read it, after 250 years.”

“Two-hundred fifty-three,” I smugly rectify, smiling up at my lover even as he rolls his eyes.

“Precisely,” says Louis, flashing a fang and squeezing my hand. He takes me to the shed where we pick up our tools, from brushes to hedge trimmers. Usually his magic would keep the grounds manicured, but I still love getting dirt under my nails and tending to my flowers. I’m lucky to have found a vampire so accommodating to my whims.

We share dinner together and I tell him about my day running around the estate, finding things that need doing and getting them done. There are still parts of the castle that are filled with dust and cobwebs after we moved in a decade ago, and I’m determined to bring them to light. Louis listens to me with interest and tells me of his business dealings with far-off merchants, which he’s been trying to include me in for a few generations. I’m finally coming around to the idea, despite being spiritually averse to mathematics and the thought of dealing with finances making me break out in hives.

“You’ll do marvellously,” Louis tells me, smiling at me from across our meal; it’s a human meal and it won’t sustain us, but the mushrooms are divine, if I do say so, myself.

I scoff, picking at the food in front of me. “You say that…”

“I mean it.”

“You need a head for finances if you’re to be a businessman.”

“Only if you deal with finances. I’ve long thought you would be a good businessman by charm and guile alone, regardless of your skill with maths.”

I cough around my wine, snorting softly. “That’s a very lovely way to say that I’d get by on looks alone.”

“You would not,” Louis snaps, tiring of my self-deprecation. “You are beautiful, yes, but clever besides, with an eye for business and a resourcefulness that kept you alive around me when I was at my worst. I will tolerate many things, my love, but down talk of yourself is something I will not.”

I avert my gaze, shamed and humbled all at once. “Even after all this time, I wonder why you—”

“Do not,” Louis firmly replies, pushing aside his plate and rising, “doubt my love for you. I would destroy this world and everything in it if it meant a better place for you to thrive.”

“Louis,” I sigh, allowing him to pull me up against his chest and nuzzling in at his broad chest. “I know it. I know it, my love. I’m sorry.”

“No,” murmurs Louis, kissing the top of my head and tucking me closer still. “Don’t apologise to me. Do better by yourself. That’s all that I ask.”

“I will,” I promise, looking up into his golden eyes and his fine, enigmatic features.

Louis smiles in the way that he only smiles for me, stroking along my back. “That is all that I ask,” he says again, and kisses me soundly.

[snowbreeze64]

Der Katzenprinz, fully illustrated, under the cut. Drawings by me. 

Google slides link to read it as a book: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1gmGwl4eBx_yG-P6t69AyU7ZUgjpGuptFKpnL6QmhkpQ/edit?usp=sharing

Image ID’s

Title page: The words DER KATZENPRINZ are calligraphied across the top of the page, arcing over a drawing of a cat holding out a top hat. The edges of the cover have swirling designs on them. The words, the cat, and the designs are all gold leaf on a black background.

Page 1: Text reading "Once upon a time, in a little house on the edge of a great white wood, lived a young boy with his mother." The illustration is of a wood and thatch cottage in a birch forest. Standing in front of it are a young boy and his mother.

Page 2: Text reading "The poor boy was sick, and spent much of his days in bed, watching the days pass by from a little window in his room." The illustration is of the young boy, who is pale with orange hair, blue eyes, and wearing a green vest, sitting in his bed, looking out of a window.

Page 3: Text reading "The boy's mother loved him very much, but as it was just the two of them and the boy was ill of health and frail of form, every day she had to make the journey to town, where she worked in the kitchens of the local lord." The illustration is of the boy's mother, who is wearing a pale dress, waving goodbye to the boy, who is sitting behind the window.

Page 4: Text reading "While she was gone, the boy would mind the house, read one of their precious few books, and observe the bees and the trees and the birds in their flight, as he spent the greater part of his time resting in bed." The illustration shows the boy sitting in his bed, looking at birds flying outside, and sitting on the ground reading and playing with wooden blocks.

Page 5: Text reading "The boy knew that his mother loved him and that her time away was all for his sake, and he was grateful, and loved her in return. But it was a lonely life, spending his life rereading some of the same books or talking to the air in their little home on the wood's edge." The illustration is of the boy sweeping the floor of the cottage in front of the fireplace.

Page 6: Text reading "One day, as the boy sat in bed, looking out at the fields that lay between his home and the woods, he noticed a cat, making its way out of the forest. It was not long before the boy realized this cat, clearly making its way toward his home, was no ordinary cat, for upon his head, he wore a little top hat. The illustration is of a black cat with green eyes, two white dots above its eyes, and one white splotch on its chest, wearing a top hat and walking out of the birch forest.

Page 7: Text reading "As if that were not strange enough on its own, as the cat pattered up beneath the boy's window, he stood, doffed his cap, took a bow, and said, "Greetings young master. You look as if you could use a bit of dancing." The illustration is of the cat doffing his hat and bowing to the bow, who is leaning out of his window.

Page 8: Text reading "The boy, stunned by these words from the dapper little cat, could scarcely find his voice. "Oh no, sir," said the boy, "I don't know how to dance, nor am I made for it." The illustration shows the boy leaning over his windowsill, looking down.

Page 9: Text reading ""Nonsense," said the cat, "Why, anyone can dance, if they look to. Come out of doors and let me show you." And as he spoke, the cat donned his hat and began to turn in circles and dance." There are three illustrations of the cat in various dancing positions.

Page 10: Text reading "The boy was curious, but said, "Good sir cat, " am afraid I am ill, my lungs are too weak, and my bones are too frail." "Maybe they are, and maybe they aren't," the cat replied, "But either way, you do not want to languish one more day in bed, watching the world go by, do you? Come, take a walk with me through the fields, and I will show you how to dance." The illustration is of the cat holding his paw out to the boy, still leaning over his windowsill.

Page 11: Text reading "Overcoming his doubts, the boy managed the climb down from his window and walked a few steps closer. This was no ordinary cat and no ordinary day. And though he felt unsure, his heart did leap a little, and he began to follow the marvelous little cat through the grass, slowly at first, but with more vigor as they crossed the fields." The illustration shows the boy and the cat walking away through a field of tall golden grass, with a blue sky above.

Page 12: Text reading "And eventually he found himself stepping under the shade of the woods for the first time in a great many years. All the while the cat frolicked and capered as they wound their way deeper into the wood, and eventually the boy found himself stepping into a ring of trees." The illustration shows the boy and the cat sitting in a ring of red mushrooms on vibrantly green grass, with a circle of birch trees around them.

Page 13: Text reading "That cat whirled about, his hat in hand. The furry little dancer twirled around the boy, laughing and calling while the boy watched, his mouth agape. And then quick as a flash, the cat brought his top hat down right atop the boy's head," The illustration shows a paw tugging the brim of a top hat down over the top half of the page.

Page 14: Text reading "who was very suddenly plunged into darkness." The text is white on an all-black background.

Page 15: Text reading "But only for a moment, because all about him, shining in the dark, he saw the glow of hundreds of eyes, feline eyes, glimmering in the dark." The background is still black, but it is lit up with cat eyes of different colors staring out of the darkness.

Page 16: Text reading "Suddenly, about him lanterns flared to life and the boy saw he was no longer in a wood at all. Here he saw a grand ballroom festively decorated and filled to the brim with cats. Big cats, small ones, old cats, young ones, cats of every breed and color, and in the center of the great hall upon the stage stood the boy's feline guide, only now he was dressed in very fine robes, and upon his head sat a thin golden crown of wrought golden leaves." The illustration shows a red carpet leading up to the cat on a dais, features now sharper, wearing a red cape and a crown of golden leaves. To the right and left of the red carpet are various other cats, bowing and curtsying.

Page 17: Text reading "The boy stood in wonder and amazement as the great host of cats bowed to their prince and then in turn, bowed to him. "The world of men is heavy and hard," the princely cat proclaimed. "But here across the veil we move with a lighter step. Dance with us, child, and forget your troubles for a spell." All at once, scores of cats closed in around the boy, purring and turning about his legs as thick as the sea, and as they moved, so too did the boy's feet." The illustration shows the boy surrounded by the outlines of cats. Their colors blend and swirl into the golden background behind him.

Page 18: Text reading "He swirled amongst them like a cork on the water, and before he knew it the boy was dancing, dancing and dancing as he never imagined he could, and his breath, much to his surprise, was hearty and hale. He found he no longer felt ill in the least. Hours passed and he and all the cats danced without end, and the prince of cats more than all of them." The illustration shows pairs of cats dancing in the background as the boy and the prince of cats dance in the foreground. Red and gold leaves shed off of the prince's cape and crown.

Page 19: Text reading "After a long while, the boy suddenly remembered his mother and immediately feared she would worry. He stopped in the middle of the great hall and called out to the prince of cats, "Forgive me, Sir Cat, but I can no longer stay. My mother will worry. I have to return."" The illustration shows the boy standing before the cat, whose cape swirls up in front of him, turning orange at the ends.

Page 24: Text reading "All the cats parted before him and the prince approached the boy. "Are you sure, boy? You could stay and dance with us for as long as you wish, forever and ever and ever." "I cannot," the boy replied. "My mother has only me and I would not leave her alone. Forgive me."" The illustration shows the prince, now back to his original form, holding out his top hat to the boy.

Page 25: Text reading "The prince of cats looked upon the boy with a sympathetic eye. "Not at all, young one. Fear not a whit. You do your mother credit." And with that, the prince of cats stepped closer. "Do not look so crestfallen. Take our cat's grace with you. You can always dance if the will is there." And from behind his back he brought out his top hat again and pulled it over the boy's eyes, and once again, all was dark." The illustration shows the boy smiling, the top hat on his head, as yellow and green leaves blow past him.

Page 26: Text reading "Sometime later, the boy stirred and his eyes fluttered open. He looked about and discovered he had been asleep in the wood and the sun now dappled his face through the trees. Next, he noticed a threadbare, patched top hat lying in the soft grass beside him." The illustration shows the boy sleeping in the ring of red mushrooms, the top hat next to him. They are bathed in golden evening light.

Page 27: Text reading "He gingerly picked it up and stood within the circle of trees. As he did so, he took a deep breath and smelled the earth and the forest, and as he did, he realized his breath was strong and his legs hardy." The illustration shows the boy holding the top hat in front of him.

Page 28: Text reading ""Danke," he said as he looked down at the hat in his hands. And placing it upon his head, he smiled, picked up his heels, and quietly started to dance his way all the way back home." The illustration shows the silhouette of the boy wearing the top hat and dancing down a path, along with the silhouette of trees and birds flying in the distance. The sky and the words are made of gold leaf.

Golden calligraphy reading "DAS ENDE." on a black background.

[hardman5509]

A Gift For Keine

@touhousecretsanta

Howdy there @kikuhan I’m your Touhou Secret Santa, and I got a story for ‘ya! This one goes around your request in a roundabout fashion, but I figured something different would be more interesting.

I don’t know much about PC-98 characters (outside of the obvious ones), so I stuck with the ones I knew about. Hope you enjoy it!

Living out in the middle out of nowhere did have a massive downside to that. Mokou didn't have money. She generally lived off things that she could find lying around...or stealing. She had a habit of stealing a whole lot, even more as of late due to the growing number of powerful individuals coming to Gensokyo. It seems like there's someone new coming in every other day.

Back on topic, Mokou didn't have any money of her own. And she wanted to get something for...that holiday...that green-haired girl that lived at that mountain shrine raved all about at this time of year. Christmas, right? It's weird, but people were getting into it. Even more with the humans. They loved it! They would gather around in the middle of the village, surrounding a large tree, and decorate it. They would also go out and give each other gifts...

And that's the part that has Mokou worried. No money, no gift. And she really wanted to pay Keine back.

It was Keine that introduced her to the holiday in the first place after all. Keine spent most of her time working with the humans, and while she did initially criticize the event, she did end up accepting it. Mokou had noticed it, along with Keine's own problems. Keine had been greatly affected by all of the new people that made Gensokyo their home, as that meant she would have to work longer and harder to protect the Humans. Whenever she came by to visit, Keine just seemed to be out of energy, always tense, and more ready to snap.

“Sorry.” Keine would then apologize. “It's just...”

Mokou knew that Keine really needed a break. And that would be impossible, Keine didn't really trust anyone that's not human. Mokou...technically still counts as one, but Keine just refused to allow her to take over. So getting her to take a break isn't going to be what Mokou is going to get her, she's going to get her a gift that would help Keine relax!

And in fact, that weirdo shopkeeper is selling something from the other world that might help with that. It's a machine that massages your feet; that sounded perfect for someone like Keine. Mokou puffed out her chest as she started to look around for somewhere she could get some money, and fast. The Human Village is out of the question however, she didn't want to tip Keine off to her plans. Shrine-duty isn't going to pay her anything, let alone if she decides to go and work with Reimu.

...so that left...

“Huh.” Eirin mused out as she looked over the annoyed-looking Mokou. “I guess I could pay you for help, but I'm more concerned that you will just start a fight with the princess...”

“I don't care about the princess, I just need the money.” Mokou interrupted. Eirin responded by tossing a pill that was nearby at Mokou's head. Mokou just let the tiny thing bounce off her forehead. “I need the money for a Christmas gift.”

“Really?” Eirin tilted her head. “Just a Christmas gift? Wouldn't you like to have money all the time? I mean, I could use some real help around here, and if you had more money, you could leave the forest behind...”

“Just a Christmas gift.”

“Okay.” Eirin grunted. “I guess if you just want some spending money, I can hire you on as a janitor.”

“Done, deal, where's the mop, I'll go ahead and clean up.” Mokou breathed out as she jumped up to her feet.

“I don't need anything cleaned right now.” Eirin followed suit. “When I ask for you...“

“Break-time? Break-time.” Mokou spoke out and pulled out one of the few things she has left, a pack of cigarettes. A commodity of the other world, and yet damn expensive here in Gensokyo. She's lucky to get even one packet like this and she had to trade some herbs she found in her part of her woods to get them...

And Eirin snatched them and then promptly tossed them into the trash bin. “You're working in a medical facility, smoking is only allowed outside.” Eirin told. Mokou almost felt tempted to go ahead and just leave...but it's either this or working at a shrine. And yet, the endless and repitive nature of shrine work would probably allow her to take a drag every now and then...

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

Mokou had another surprise awaiting her when she went outside. Marisa! Mokou's entire body started to tense up upon seeing that walking bundle of chaos. Marisa waved. “Yo, firebug!”

“Hey.” Mokou replied as she looked away. “What brings you around these parts?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” Marisa wagged a finger at Mokou. “Isn't this the place you regularly trash in your eternal revenge against Princess Lazyass?”

Mokout did have to stifle a little laugh. That does accurately portray Kaguya. “Got a job here, janitorial. Need money, end of story.”

“Oh, really?” Marisa raised a eyebrow at that. “Same actually! I need some mad money for a little project coming up, and Eirin is hiring all sorts of people right now.” Marisa put her hands behind her back, starting to rock and back forth on her feet. “So, what did you have to bribe her with in order to get a job? I had to give away some of my best mushrooms.”

“I went in and asked.”

“Really?” Marisa groaned. “Just like that? I think I have just been bamboozled...” She paused for a second, before looking around the area that Eientei is situated in. The Bamboo Forest. Marisa pointed at a wall of bamboo and laughed, in the same manner as a little girl would have. Mokou pursed her lips and sat down on the steps. “C'mon, you have to admit that was kinda funny...”

“Sure, real riot.” Mokou sighed. “Look, I just want money for a Christmas gift. I don't want any trouble or shenanigans...”

“Doubtful you're going to be avoiding those, the latter sort.” Marisa pointed out. “Tewi has set traps everywhere. She might be setting them up right now as we speak. Probably putting around our main areas of work. We could be taking out the trash, and boom!” She made her hands flutter around. “Down we go into a traphole!”

“Pfft.” Mokou blew out. “I'm used to that little idiot's traps. If we just fly around, we can avoid her pitfalls.” Mokou did a little demonstration as she started to float up. “See? This will be easy...”

“Alright, we can totally do that.” Marisa nodded, pulling her broom out of nowhere. “Of course, with my broom, I can carry more than you can.” She tapped on the broom. “So, you feel like a little competition? I don't think that Eirin can pay us equally, so she's going to shell out the big bucks to the best worker...”

“I just need the money.” Mokou told, swiping her hands around in the air. “Even if you are paid twice of what I make, I don't care. Once I get enough to afford the item, I'm leaving.”

“C'mon...” Marisa cooed as she got right up next to Mokou. Mokou groaned and flinched at being so close towards Marisa. “Surely you got the spirit of competition about you. You are plenty fiery after all...” She bumped an elbow into Mokou's shoulder. Mokou let out a small snarl. “Don't you want to earn so much money at once that you can quit early?”

“Leave me be.” Mokou told as she gently pushed Marisa off to the side. Marisa took it well and giggled like the little imp she is. Mokou decided to take her break elsewhere, you know, anywhere that's not here. Mokou figured the best place to be would to be behind the big barn like building. Possibly the place that Eirin keeps all of her victims, the results of her experiments...or both!

Still, possibly a good and shady spot. Mokou walked on over to the barn and then down into a large pit. The mocking laughter of a little rabbit girl following soon after. Mokou just took a deep breath and focused on staying calm. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At least she got to work on the inside after that. Sweeping around, cleaning dishes, and properly cleaning up lab equipment is all boring work. But it keeps her away from Marisa, Kaguya isn't bugging her as she's sleeping off an all-nighter of games,  and possibly from Tewi. No telling if Tewi has somehow managed to booby-trap the inside of Eientei, and the other people living here had jut gotten used to it and knew where the traps were.

Except Reisen. She never learned.

Mokou walked over the fallen Reisen and back into the main lab. “Swept all the dust away.” She told onto Eirin.

“Good, good.” Eirin sighed as she scrawled out a quick note. “Now, I got a important task for you.” She pulled out a wrapped package. “This is a easy one. I need you to deliver this to the Hakurei shrine. You should know where that is, right?” Mokou nodded. She had been there a few times before, and it's not like a hard place to find. It's just that nobody in the right mind would go and visit it without a decent reason to do so.

“So Reimu afforded something?” Mokou asked as she took the package in hand. She knew better to try and shake it.

“Oh no.” Eirin shook her head. “It's for Suika. She can actually afford me.”

“How?”

“I don't ask questions, and I accept payment first.” Eirin held up a finger. “Now, get going. I might not have a time limit on deliveries, but I am considering it in the future. So uphold my future reputation.”

Mokou sniffed as she exited out of the room with the package in hand. This should be easy. Just fly on out to the Hakurei Shrine, slap the package into Suika's face and get back to Eientei in time for payday. Hopefully payday and not more work. Mokou would like to get paid and leave. Still, this chore has to be more interesting and less annoying than menial labor, right?

“Hey, whatcha got there?”

Mokou groaned as she stepped away from a curious-looking Marisa. “Package. Special delivery. Need to get going.” She explained.

“What's inside, and who's it for?” Marisa questioned as she peered all around the package, somehow managing to keep up with Mokou moving it. “Hold on, I think I see a name...the shrine, huh?” Marisa's expression changed upon seeing the name of the location; going from curiosity to something like a blank stare. “What did Reimu order?”

“None of your business, got to go!” Mokou growled as she spun around, tucking the package underneath her armpit and scurrying on outside.

“Wait up!” Marisa called out, summoning her broom out of nowhere and starting to chase after Mokou. “If it's going to the shrine, you should let me do it! I know the people there a lot better than you! And I'm faster than you too...”

“Don't you got something else going on?” Mokou shouted back as she hopped off the stairs and took flight. “Like sweeping or something?”

“Oh, it's nothing! It can wait!” Marisa shouted back as she continued to give chase. She sounded actually concerned. That's a oddity to hear coming from Marisa. What about this package is so bloody important to her? Mokou would...not care to ask, nor really care about Marisa in the first place. Besides, if Marisa is so insistent on following her around, than that means she would most likely lose her job for abandoning her post...

...which will mean that Mokou will have more work to do. Oh dear.

“Hey Marisa!” Mokou called back, almost letting a little bit of panic enter into her voice. “If you get fired for following me around, than that means I will get the higher pay!”

“It's okay, it's okay!” Marisa called back. “I just think it's more important that I deliver this package, and hey, there's got to be more jobs for me out there! Really, just let me deliver the package to Reimu!” Marisa started to pick up speed, zooming dangerously close to Mokou's side. Mokou let out a sharp yelp as she quickly darted off to the side, heading back into the woods.

“All this over a package?” Mokou called out as she dipped around the various trees. “C'mon...”

Her little speech about why Marisa is throwing away her job was crudely interrupted by a even cruder trap. A log about the same size of Mokou came crashing right into her face. Mokou groaned as she fell down onto the floor of the forest into a crumpled mess, for all of a second right before she fell through the floor and into one of Tewi's pitfalls.

“Ohmygosh!” Marisa spat out as she safely landed next to the pitfall. “Is the package okay?” Mokou groaned and feebly held up the package, somehow remaining intact despite having been through three impacts. “Thank goodness!” Marisa chuckled as she took the package and soared up into the sky.

...oh right. Tewi. Everyone in Gensokyo can fly. Of course the trap-loving smart-ass would build trap in accordance with that specific trait. Why did Mokou assume that going through Tewi's stomping grounds would work out in her favor? She crawled out of the pit as fast as she could and started to go after Marisa. No doubt that Marisa would head in the direction of the shrine!

And this time she's going to avoid the forest entirely by flying over it.

“Shrine dead-ahead!” Marisa called out as she noticed the big and obvious shrine dead-ahead of her. “Alright shrine maiden, get ready to meet the sexiest, most brilliant, delivery-girl in all of Gensokyo!”

“Dead is correct!” Mokou snarled as she reached on out and grabbed Marisa by the shoulder, managing to toss the witch off her broom. “I'm not going to let you to get away with leaving me behind!”

“Woah!” Marisa shouted out as she did a barrel-roll around in the air, managing to readjust herself in the air. “Watch the package, watch the package!” Marisa shuddered as she clutched the package close to her chest as she rolled around in the air, hoping to somehow avoid Mokou coming after her. At least Mokou cannot bring out spellcards or her famous kicks without endangering the package.

“Just hand the package back to me!” Mokou shouted as she grabbed Marisa by the shoulders, intending to give Marisa a little demonstration of what falling to Earth feels like. Marisa screamed as the big green earth beneath her started to get bigger right before she impacted through the ground, leaving a Marisa-shaped crater in their wake.

“Mine, mine!” Mokou screamed as she wrestled the package out of Marisa's hands. “Now to complete the delivery...”

“Ahem.”

Mokou pulled herself out of the ground and found herself looking at the shoes of someone stomping said shoes against the ground. “I believe you just marred my grounds...” The person spoke, while rapping a certain wooden stick against the palm of their open hand.

“Ah.” Was the last thing that Mokou got to say before she canned in the head by a big orb with the Yin-Yang symbol on it.

“Oh, Reimu!” Marisa waved out of the hole as Reimu dragged the now unconscious Mokou out of the Marisa hole, allowing Marisa to drag herself out of it. “I got a package here for you...”

“Didn't order anything.” Reimu told as she let Mokou flop on down to more solid ground. “You sure you were supposed to deliver to me?” Marisa pointed to the package, still wrapped up in Mokou's hands. Reimu went on over and gently tugged it out of Mokou's clutches. “Huh, it is for the shrine...”

“Hey, my thingie arrived!” Suika cheered out as she came out of nowhere and took the package. “About time too...” She looked around, noticing both Reimu and Marisa. “Hey, now, this is a surprise...” She giggled out as clutched the package close to her chest. “You gots to wait for it, Rei...”

“What is she on about?” Reimu questioned.

“Wish I knew.” Marisa shrugged. “Hey, Reimu...” Marisa put her hands behind her back and stood right besides Reimu. “You got a nice...haircut? Right?”

“Marisa.” Reimu firmly stated.

“Hey, just making small talk.” Marisa held up her hands. “I best return to my work, along with my...” She strolled on over to the still unconscious Mokou and managed to hoist her on up onto he shoulder. “Co-worker here...”

“I hope you two are willing to come on back here and fix the damage...”

“Her, not so much. Me?” Marisa put her fee hand onto her chest. “Absolutely! Later Reimu!” Marisa whistled, and her broom suddenly zoomed on over to her, where she threw Mokou onto the broom and then she flew off. Reimu shook her head as she watched Marisa fly off. Besides the obvious wishes of Marisa not stealing stuff and her not destroying property, Reimu just wished that Marisa would just go ahead and confess her love.

When even Cirno can recognize it, you know you got some serious issues. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Package delivered madam!” Marisa saluted, with the still dazed Mokou doing the same.

“I recall only sending one of you to go and deliver it...” Eirin commented on. “But as long as you did your chores on the outside, I don't mind if you go together...”

“Oh those.” Marisa shrugged. “They could wait...”

“Marisa.” Eirin firmly interrupted, her eyes going a bit wide. “I asked you to go and dispose of some chemical waste...you did go and did that, right...?”

“MISS, THERE'S A GIANT SLIME MONSTER OUTSIDE AND IT WANTS TO EAT ME!”

“Marisa, you're fired.” Eirin pointed towards Marisa. “Help me kill the slime monster and I'll at least pay you. Mokou, help me kill it and you can keep your job.”

“Guess I don't have much of a choice here.” Marisa shrugged. She pulled out of her Mini-Hakkero, giggled exactly like the mad woman she is, and ran outside, accidentally smacking Mokou in the face. This at least got Mokou to return to being mostly 'sane'. Eirin clapped her hands, and that got Mokou to scramble on outside.

As the three got outside, they found Reisen being pummeled around by a giant slime monster. It had wrapped a tentacle around Reisen's waist and is now treating her like a hammer and there's nails everywhere that needed to punched in. Reisen's usual sort of moans and groans echoed throughout the area.

“We need to stop the creature before it escapes out of the forest.” Eirin told as she notched an arrow into her bow. “Lethal measures permitted, just try to avoid damaging Eientei.”

“MISS!” Reisen cried out as she got, rather luckily, tossed aside by the creature. Extra lucky that she got sent through the roof of Eientei, and not into the bamboo forest where she could have been impaled by the bamboo or land into a nest of some nasty creature that would have stung her a million times. Kaguya, on the other hand, will just pelt her with a newspaper a dozen times.

“I'll give it a nice bath, with my magic! Master Spark!” She fired off her trademark (stolen) attack right at the center of the mass, causing the slime to bubble and boil, but remain still. “Hey, now it smells awful!” Marisa groaned as she had to stop attacking to press on her nose.

“It's made out of various amounts of chemical waste that came from my results in my lab experiments.” Eirin groaned as she fired off an arrow, aiming at where she noticed the biggest globs of concentration within the slime, assuming it to be the nucleus of the being. The arrow didn't even make it halfway through it before the slime dissolved it. “So don't burn it! The fumes coming off it would be toxic to even youkai!”

Mokou looked down to see her hands a-flamed. “Welp, might as well take a break then...” She sighed before Eirin put a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her from going anywhere. “What, you want me to kick it?”

“Better than nothing!” Eirin motioned her head on over to the slime, with Marisa flying around it and hitting it with non-hot lasers. She didn't look to be having much fun. “If you and Marisa can punch a hole into it, leading to that big discolored blob in the middle, I can hit it with an arrow and kill it!”

“Oh, eew...” Mokou sighed. “Fine. But I am getting paid for this right?”

“Well, this is part of your job, cleaning up messes, ain't it?” Eirin chuckled as she notched another arrow. “Just get me to the core!” Mokou nodded as she ran forward to the really foul looking monster. She figured a little fire wouldn't hurt anything, just as long as she keeps it concentrated into a single kick. Just enough to give the kick a little more kick...

Great, now she sounds like Marisa.

Spinning around, and with fire surrounding her right leg, Mokou kicked through the slime. “That's it!” Eirin told. “Almost there...”

“Let me finish this in style!” Marisa called out as she zipped on down to Mokou's level and unleashed another powerful beam, aiming where Mokou had kicked in before. It did punch through a little bit more, but then Mokou and Eirin noticed the smoke coming from the gap...

“Marisa?” Eirin coughed out. “Did I tell you to not use fire?”

“I thought it would be...” Marisa coughed in return. “...fine, now...”

“How...” Mokou hacked out. “...did you get to live this long?”

“Well...” Marisa giggled, throwing in a small cough. “Good luck, good friends and good looks mostly...”

“Ugh!” Eirin grunted as she pulled a gas mask out of her pouch and slapped it onto her face. “I should just bought the mushroom off you!”

“Wait, what?” Marisa asked, her voice now clear of any congestion. “I could have gotten more?”

“I only agreed to let you have the job as it would be easier to keep you around than have you run around as free as you want!” Eirin told as she grabbed a second mask and slapped it onto the reeling Mokou. “Plus it would cost me less to pay you a minimum wage than to pay out for that rare mushroom!”

“Well, I don't feel like helping you out anymore.” Marisa crossed her arms. “Seeing how now you owe me a greater deal of mon...”

The slime monster decided to go for the easier target of the standing witch and continue its favorite game of 'hammer girl'. Bad sexual innuendo aside, Marisa got the usual Reisen treatment and got pummeled around for a bit before being sent flying off. Unlike Reisen however, Marisa actually remembered she could fly and managed to tuck herself into recovering in the air.

“Hey, I ain't no comic relief character!” Marisa groaned. “That's it, you want some real power?” She pulled out her Mini-Hakkero and aimed it down towards the slimeball. “How about a real big Master Spark?” Energy started to gather around into the mini-generator, making the air buzz with heat “I'll eradicate you with one good shot, 'ze jerk!”

“We should run.” Mokou thumbed behind her.

“I don't think that's going to help much...” Eirin sighed.

“LOVE SIGN: MASTER SPARK!” Marisa shouted, unleashing a full strength blast of rainbow energy out of her hands, with the creature caught right in the middle of the explosion. Good news? The beam nor the shockwave of it ended up damaging Eientei, and hey, it destroyed the slime creature. Bad news is that instead of disintegrating the creature, it splattered gloriously and gore-ly all over Eientei.

“On second thought, you were right.” Eirin remarked as took off her gas-mask. At least that prevented her from getting gunk in her mouth.  “Where's Marisa now?”

“Running off.” Mokou told as she looked up, seeing Marisa quickly darting away.

“Oh well, don't have to pay her then.” Eirin shrugged. “Tell you what.” She pointed on over to Mokou. “Clean this up and I'll double...”

“Triple.”

“Triple your payment.” Eirin sniffed as she swiped her hands of the goo, sending it flying on over to Mokou's face. “See you in about three hours.” Eirin groaned as she went back inside.

Mokou looked all over the area. The slime is covering everything. And she meant everything. The trees, the bamboo, the roof, the side of the building, the floor, her and the returning Reisen. She just groaned and went back inside. Mokou wondered if she could possibly burn the slime away, but being someone with a brain, she remembered that the slime would produce some toxic fumes if she tried to burn it.

She located the mop and water bucket. It too was covered in slime.

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

It took six hours, but Mokou had managed to clean up most of the slime. At least all of the stuff that's within general view. Surely the scant amounts of slime wouldn't turn into anything. They would just fade away at some point. Mokou got her tripled payment and got away from that crazy place. She didn't want to stick any longer than she had to. No telling what would happen next. There could be a explosion, someone from the moon...

She got the money, she got what she came for, time to get that gift (and some smokes now that she had some money to spend) and wait for Christmas day. This gave Mokou time to really calm down after all of that crazy nonsense that had gone down at Eientei. And then came...

Christmas time! Snow had started to fall, people were wearing all sorts of festive wear that made Mokou's eyes hurt a bit, and Keine could finally get a break from teaching/defending the humans to relax. The perfect time to present her gift! Mokou ran on over to Keine's house with the package in hand.

“Yo, Keine!” Greeted Mokou as she just invited herself in.

“I would appreciate if you would at least knock first.” Keine sighed as she put down her pen. “So, what's up?”

“I got a gift for you!” Mokou told as she held out her wrapped-up gift. “I worked hard for it.”

“Oh, Mokou...” Keine immediately relaxed and put a hand on her chest as she saw the crudely-wrapped up gift. “You really got this for me? That's so sweet, but you really didn't have to...”

“Nah I wanted to.” Mokou shook her head. “You work so hard for...peanuts? That's the word they use, right? What I mean you do a lot for little...”

“It's only right I chose this life.” Keine sighed as she stood up. “Because someone has to.”

“And because you don't trust anyone else to do it?”

“Look, I keep on seeing other powerful people squander what they have on such...ridiculous things.” Keine sniffed. “Reimu would rather sit around the shrine all day and invite in youkai than to tend the needs of humans. Marisa does her own thing all the time. And I do not dare to ask of the youkai or the other individuals affiliated with youkai...”

“Like Sakuya?”

“Her loyalty to her mistress means that she will prioritize gathering of blood over protection.” Keine scoffed. “There's just not so many people around that I can entrust the protection of humans over.”

“Then why not me?” Mokou asked holding the present close to her chest. “My immortality means I can keep it going for a long time...” She drew in a long breath as she ended up stumbling around with her words. “Well...” She breathed out. “You know. That thing.”

“It is something that I will not ask of you.” Keine shook her head. “Maybe once I do pass away, but while I live, it is my burden. Asking a friend, let alone you, is not something I can ask of you.”

“Let alone?”

“Oh, you know...” Keine chuckled as she looked away rather shyly. “Someone...like you. Someone to enjoy Christmas with.” She walked on over to a mini-icebox, opened it up, and pulled out a bottle of what looked to be a good vintage of sake. “So, how about it? You want to spend a night with me? Just you, me and this bottle of sake?”

“Yeah...yeah.” Mokou sighed. “That would be great. I got nothing else going on...”

Keine breathed out as she went on over to her couch, sake in hand. She sat down and patted the seat next to her. Mokou put a small smile as she sat on down right next to Keine. Mokou wasn't ready for the next bit of Keine resting her head onto her shoulder. Mokou's cheeks flared up and she felt the need to play with her collar. Room got a bit too hot for her liking.

“Oh yeah.” Mokou found a small way out of this. “Your gift. You wanna open it?”

“Might as well!” Keine giggled as she took the gift and tore through it.

“So you like it? It can massage you, so you can...”

“Eeerr, Mokou? This is a massager...”

“Something wrong? Not the right size for you?”

“No, you see...this is for adult use.”

“But you are an adult.”

“...private adult time.”

“Oh. Oh.”

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

“Merry Christmas Reimu!”

“I don't celebrate it.”

“I got you something for free, ze?”

“Ah. So you did.”

“Really awesome, isn't it?”

“I don't know, Suika got me the same thing as well.”

“Oh.”

“...look, if you want to bang, just ask nicely.”

“Ah.”

[fernwehbookworm]

Haunted- Chapter 6

Lena feels giddy with her first bite of food. Solid food. Because she is solid again. The warm tomato sauce bursts across her tongue, mixing with the garlicky crust and earthy flavor of mushrooms. A tomato slice pulls off with the melted cheese and Lena moans into the bite. Kara laughs from across the table in the rundown pizza place tucked into a forgotten alleyway. It was the best pizza Lena had ever had, living up to Kara’s claims. The pizzeria sold by the slice or the pie, Lena getting the former, Kara ordering the later. Which didn’t surprise Lena at all, after practically being by her side for a week. The Pizzeria was also open twenty-four hours a day, which was great for the starving CEO at 5 am.

Lena wipes at her lip self consciously as she notices Kara staring. “What?” Lena asks.

“Nothing, just still can’t believe you are actually here.”

“You’re telling me.” Lena laughs, “I was very worried when you went to your sister’s. I didn’t think I would ever be able to reach you.”

“Hey, I was freaked out. But we are here now.”

“Yes, we are.” Lena smiles softly. “Does this count as our first date?”

“Only if that means we get a second. This isn’t what I was thinking when I asked you out. I planned on roses and candles and probably some cheap champagne.”

“I think this is perfect.” Lena takes another bite and chews quickly before continuing. “Everyone always wants to woo me. To give me fancy things and impress me with money. This,” Lena gestures with her slice around the dimly lit pizza parlor, “This is wonderful.”

“Good, because I am far from fancy.” Kara smiles, a blush coloring her cheeks as she and Lena lock eyes. Kara only looks away when her phone rings.

“It’s Alex. Hold on,” Kara says and Lena nods. “Hey, Al. Any news? Okay, great. Yes, I’m sure she will want to be there. Thanks. See you soon.”

“Well?” Lena asks as Kara hangs up.

“They will have the warrant within the hour. They have enough to seize records, thanks to you. The team is gearing up to arrest Max Lord. I figured you would want to see that.”

“See it? I want to be a part of it. Come on.” Lena stands and takes one last bite of her slice and drops a large bill on the table. Kara scrambles to follow after Lena with her pizza box.

“Where are we going?” Kara asks through a mouthful of triple meat pizza.

“Lord Tech, of course. I need to talk to Max himself, plus he’ll need to be distracted. Otherwise, once he catches a whiff of the feds, he will disappear.”

“So what's your plan?” Kara asks.

“To go rub it in his face that I am not actually dead and then keep him talking until your sister busts down his door and cuffs him.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a plan. How are you getting in?”

“Oh honey, I’m a Luthor. I can get in anywhere.”

Lena flags down a cab and Kara climbs in the back seat with Lena, continuing to eat her pizza. Kara offers Lena a slice but Lean declines. Kara just shrugs and hums happily as she finishes the last three before they get out in front of Lord Tech. Lena straightens to her full height, gathering an air about her that directly contradicts the sweats she had put on to replace the lab clothing she had been trapped in, collected and held for testing, of course. The MIT sweatshirt even covers most of her hands and Kara has tried very hard not to be distracted by that fact.

Lena strides into the building like she owns it, not even stopping as a confused security guard calls out for her to but then choking off their commands as they realize that a ghost has entered the building. Kara trails behind, unwilling to let Lena out of her sight now that she isn’t at risk of losing her.

The elevator is quite as Lena begins to set up the chess pieces in her mind. She is thinking through the moves Max and she had been playing for since taking over for Lex. She will play him like a fiddle until the FBI shows up. Lena smirks at the thought.

“So… this is my most interesting first date. Saving my date from completely disappearing, pizza, and now an arrest. I don’t think I can ever top this.” Kara breaks the silence and into Lena’s thoughts.

Lena laughs. “Yeah, it is pretty memorable. You are pretty memberal.” “And you are very pretty.” Kara grins, cheeks stretching with the width of it. Lena laughs again and that is all Kara wants to hear. It is a great laugh.

“I have a feeling that the two of us working together will be a great thing,” Lena says honestly.

“Me too, but we can still go on a second date right? This isn’t going to be one of those situations that you don’t date people you work with, right?”

“I just don’t date people who work for me. Not with me. The better the chemistry, the better the result.” Lena winks. Kara is saved from stuttering out a response when the elevator doors open and Lena strides out. The CEO is no doubt on a mission. Kara is just along for the ride as the powerful woman tears a warpath past upper-level executive offices and makes her way to the giant doors clearly installed to stroke Max’s ego, his initials inlaid in gold, taking up the entire floor to ceiling doors.

Ignoring the stuttering secretary, Lena pushes the doors open and sweeps into the room. Kara mumbles an apology to the woman before brushing past also. Max stands quickly at the intrusion from behind his desk. Lena suppresses a chuckle. Max gathers himself and straightens his tie.

“L-Lena Luthor. What are- How are you not—”

“Dead? Yes, it seems like it was quite a misunderstanding.” Lena makes her way to the wet bar and pours herself a drink. “Want anything Kara? Max here only stocks the best whisky. It’s really his only redeeming quality.”

“Oh, umm, no thank you. Whisky isn’t really my thing.” Kara decides to hang towards the door.

“And who is this?” Max asks, noticing Kara only after Lena drew attention to her.

“Oh, the reporter who saved my life after my lab accident. She really is quite brilliant. And her story on my death will be printed in the morning, and then her story on my resurrection will be printed the day after. But I am sure, her article on your arrest will earn her awards.”

“My arrest?” Max repeats, indignantly.

“Why yes. You see, Max, you slipped up. You got sloppy and greedy while I waited for the opportunity to strike. I—” Lena is interrupted by Max’s phone ringing.” Don’t you need to get that? Could be important.”

“No, I am much more interested in how I might be arrested. You and I both know that I am too careful.”

“Oh, you used to be. But I think you have grown careless in your own age. Also without Lex protecting you and holding your hand, you got in over your head. I mean, really, trying to kill me when you were literally the only one who knew my plans had changed. That was just idiotic. And then, your man didn’t even do it right. He left it up to chance. An experiment gone wrong. Granted, it was almost clean. You almost got away with it, you just didn’t count on such a connection between me and a stranger.”

“What are you even talking about?” Max seems to be reigning his composure after his initial surprise.

“Are we really going to play this game?” Lena sighs after taking a drink and sets her glass down, purposefully next to the coaster. “Fine. I know Max. You sent in a sloppy assassin to kill me after I told you I couldn’t make our meeting because I was stuck in the lab. He just changed the settings on my matter transporter and it didn’t kill me. Instead, I was stuck in a state in between being molecularly solid and being separated. Luckily, I was able to anchor myself to my favorite pen and then communicate with Miss Danvers here,” Lena pauses to point to Kara, who wiggles her fingers in an awkward wave, “And she was able to reverse the conditions to bring me back.”

“And what proof do you have of all this pseudoscience you claim to be happening?”

“Oh not much on the actual science yet, but the assassin and your shady dealings, plenty.”

Max smirks. “That seems unlikely. Why else would you be here? You are just trying to scare me into confessing something that is untrue.”

“Oh, no. I’m just here to watch.”

“Watch? Watch what?”

A commotion sounds in the hallway and heavy footsteps thunder towards them. Kara moves away from the door and urges Lena to the side of the room as Max’s eyes go wide and fix on the closed office doors.

“Watch you be dragged away kicking and screaming,” Lena smirks as the doors burst open jackbooted, FBI swat troops storm in. The women raise their hands but are completely ignored as the agents surround Max Lord.

Agent Danvers strides into the room and begins reading out the arrest warrant and Max’s rights. She pauses briefly to salute Lena silently before shoving Max out the door.

Kara is busy watching her sister and doesn’t notice Lena dialing her phone.

“Yes, Jess? Dump our stock in Lord Tech. I have a feeling it’s about to tank. And anything of L-Corp buy up. I'm about to rise from the dead."

A couple of agents stay back to escort Kara and Lena from the building. By the time the reporter and CEO make it to the lobby, a massive crowd has gathered out the doors and Max Lord is struggling as he is pushed through the crowd. He bites comments at the reporters, jerking his head side to side, much like a muzzled dog on a leash. Lights flash like fireworks and Lena holds back, slowing to a stop just short of the doors.

"You should probably wait. This will be a mess." Lena says softly, taking a moment to actually look Kara in the eye.

Kara smiles softly, "Hey, we've made it this far together. I'm seeing this through with you."

Lena seems to deflate with relief to not have to face the mob alone. Then she takes a deep breath to build herself back up. One of the agents opens the door for them, the other leading the way with the first following behind the two women. It takes a moment for the press to turn from where Max Lord was loaded into a government SUV and to turn to look upon the newcomers. Kara could have sworn she could hear a pin drop in that second. But it would have been lost in the next as the reporters scramble to get a  good look.

More agents force themselves between the crowd and the CEO, forming a small circle to give her room. Lena ignores all questions and waits for the chaos to die down as she levels a glare over the crowd. Soon just the flashing of lights and shuffle of feet fill the air.

"Now, I realize you have many questions. I will not answer most of them, the exclusive will be going to Catco because, with their reporter's help, I was able to contact the FBI and help provide information for them to arrest Max Lord. As you can see, I, Lena Luthor, am not dead. Nor was I ever. I sincerely apologize for the multiple power outages and L-Corp will be working to help those affected. The rest of the story can be read tomorrow through Catco. Good day."

Lena strides towards The final government SUV without waiting for more questions, Kara right on her heels. The questions come anyway, some even thinking to throw some towards Kara. Kara follows Lena's lead and ignores them all. Once an agent closes the door, all the shouting is finally muffled and the flashing lights are barely visible through the darkly tinted windows.

Lena deflates once more and leans her head against the glass, closing her eyes. Kara watches her. That's all Kara feels like she is doing, too afraid of Lena suddenly disappearing again. Without looking, Lena holds out her hand and Kara just stares at it. Lena sighs and opens her eyes to look at Kara.

“I thought there was going to be handholding that came with our dating?”

“Dating?” Kara asks, still confused.

“Well, we had one date, and I would like to go on a second. Multiple dates usually means dating. Unless you didn’t enjoy our first date?” Lena raises an eyebrow at Kara.

“No! What? I mean, yes! I had a great time. How many people have a first date that ends in the arrest of a corrupt businessman?”

“I’ve had three. Granted, the man was the date for the other two, so this is far better.”

“This has been the best first date I have ever had.” Kara twines her fingers with Lena’s and relaxes against the seat of the car.

After a debriefing with Alex, Kara and Lena were free to go. Kara shuffles a bit on the sidewalk outside of the building, unsure what to do. She wasn’t really ready to go home just yet. “Would you like to come back to mine and watch a movie?” Lena asks as if reading Kara’s mind. “I need to shower first but we could order more food and just hang out. I don’t think I’m ready to be alone yet.”

“Me either. Is that weird? I mean it was only a couple of days, but it's like I am so used to your presence now, it will be weird to be without.”

Lena smiles softly, “Same. Come on.”

A short cab ride later, and the couple make it to Lena’s penthouse. Kara tries not to snoop too much as Lena showers but Lena did say for Kara to help herself to any drinks in the fridge and pick from the take out menus in the drawer. Kara orders from her favorite Chinese place and settles on Lena’s much too comfortable couch to look through her video streaming services.

Lena is out before the food arrives and she pays cash when it does. It’s a weird sort of domesticity that Kara feels settling over her as Lena pads towards the couch with a paper bag in her fuzzy socks. Kara smiles at her and Lena grins back.

“There are some sweats and a t-shirt I put in the bathroom if you want to change,” Lena says while unpacking the red and white cartons.

“Sounds perfect. I’ll be right back.”

A quiet evening in with a wonderful woman is just what Kara needed after all the chaos and panic of the week. The food dwindles to just enough for leftovers as Kara and Lena pick at it. Lena stands to put it away before settling on the couch, right next to Kara. Without thinking, Kara lifts her arm and places it around Lena’s shoulders, pulling her close. It felt like something she had been doing for years, not for the first time. Soon the two begin to slowly sink lower and lower into the couch, and by the time the credits roll, Kara is half asleep on her back with Lena snoring softly in her chest. Kara manages to reach the remote to turn off the TV and pull a blanket over them. There was no way she was waking Lena now, plus the couch was really comfortable.

[lesdemonium]

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope Chapter 10

Ship: Geraskier Word count: 29146 (total) Chapter: 10/16 Summary:  

“Such a nice, beautiful sound,” the fae crooned. “If only he were this way always.”

Julian’s mother stood up. She claimed she was prepared to stop the fae, to protect her baby, but in Julian’s darkest moments he doubted this part of the story. His mother loved him, of that he had no doubt, but she had been young and weary, and even years later, she couldn’t quite get the twinge of exhaustion out of her eyes when she recalled Julian’s infancy. Even if she had been keen on protecting him, the fae was too close, too fast, too set on his plan.

“A gift, for the new mother,” the fae continued. He leaned a hand in to stroke Julian’s cheek. “I give you the gift of obedience.”

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier’s mother with Jaskier’s obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the “gift” became more of a curse.

Additional tags: AngstAngst with a Happy EndingHeavy AngstUnrequited LoveNot Actually Unrequited LoveAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceCanon EraNot Canon CompliantCursed Jaskier | DandelionAlternate Universe - Ella Enchanted FusionCurse of ObedienceRape/Non-con ElementsImplied/Referenced Rape/Non-conJaskier | Dandelion Whump

read on ao3 - read chapter 1 on ao3

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They stole away early in the morning, before the sun even crested over the horizon. It was so early, the estate was quiet. Even the cooks hadn’t yet risen to prepare breakfast.

Geralt and Jaskier moved silently through the house, lest they wake anyone, and even Roach seemed to understand the need for stealth, as she let them lead her away without so much as a sniff. They didn’t speak, and hardly even breathed, until they were safely hidden beneath the canopy of the forest.

“What are we meant to be looking for?” Jaskier asked, and though he knew they were at least a mile away from the estate, he still kept his voice low. The sun was just beginning to shine light, its rays scattered by the branches and leaves around them.

“Signs of fae activity. My medallion will vibrate when we’re near, and we’ll see… flowers. Mushrooms. Things will be growing just a bit too uniformly to be an accident.” Geralt shrugged, and he stopped at a low-hanging branch. “We will need to go deeper. We’ll leave Roach here.”

Jaskier nodded. He could still see the faint outline of Lettenhove’s walls on the horizon, but they were far enough that there was no chance of anyone stumbling upon the mare. She would be safe, and have plenty to munch on as she waited. Jaskier rubbed a hand over her neck and she snorted dismissively at him.

As they searched, Geralt would bark out instructions every so often.

“You’ll need to be polite, but you don’t want to thank them for anything, or they’ll take that as a sign you are now in their debt,” he said, and Jaskier nodded.

“If they offer you anything, you won’t want to accept it. Not food, drink, clothes, or anything else.” Jaskier hummed in return.

“They like music, and bards especially. They might ask you to play for them. It’s a trick. They’ll use it to trap you.”

It was comforting, really. Jaskier had no idea what to expect, and it was a relief that Geralt did. It seemed to bring Geralt some comfort as well, being able to pass on information to Jaskier. Jaskier could see the tense lines of Geralt’s shoulders, the way his muscles were flexing needlessly and his jaw was working. Geralt was nervous.

Jaskier pressed a hand to Geralt’s back, between his shoulder blades. Geralt looked at Jaskier curiously, but Jaskier only smiled back at him. He kept his hand there, though, until he felt the tension ease, just a little, from Geralt’s muscles.

They kept looking. It took hours of carefully combing through the trees until finally, finally , Geralt’s medallion began to vibrate. The sun was high in the sky and Jaskier was beginning to feel hunger, but he pushed the feeling away in favor of scouring the ground for signs of fae activity.

“Geralt, what about that?” Jaskier asked.

He pointed at the line of flowers and mushrooms, a few meters ahead of them. The wildflowers were beautiful, all purples and blues and pinks and so much green, interrupted here and there with little sprouts of white mushrooms. The flowers were in clumps, some dragging out as wide as a meter, but every clump ended abruptly in a line poised between two large, thick-trunked trees. The line was too straight, too clean to be an accident.

Jaskier turned his attention to Geralt, and looked at his medallion pointedly. Jaskier could just barely see it vibrating. Geralt nodded, and wrapped a hand around his medallion. The witcher took a step forward, but before Jaskier could follow, he threw out a hand to stop him.

“Jaskier, I don’t think this is a--”

“How do I get through, Geralt?” Jaskier asked. He touched Geralt’s arm, lightly pushing it down, and stared at him beseechingly. “I have to do this.”

Geralt hesitated, searching Jaskier’s face for any sort of crack, but Jaskier knew there was nothing there but steely resolve. He had to do this. Geralt nodded, then took Jaskier’s hand, lacing their fingers together and stepping toward the flowers.

“Geralt, no, you can’t--”

“I will not let you face this alone, Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted. His tone was decided, final, and he didn’t bother looking at Jaskier before he led them to the flowers. He stopped just before the line, and took a deep breath. “We should just need to walk through, and we’ll be in the Feywild. Are you certain you want to do this?”

Jaskier didn’t answer him, there wasn’t any point. Instead he took a step forward, taking Geralt with him.

It happened so suddenly, Jaskier couldn’t even note the moment they passed through the plane. It only felt like taking a step forward, but suddenly his surroundings were different. The trees were larger, blocking out all sun, and their leaves and vines tendrilled down around him. The floor was littered with bright, impossibly bright flowers, many of colors Jaskier couldn’t name, and was sure he had never seen before. There was a living quality to everything around him, in a way that the forest on their own plane did not possess.

Before them was an enormous, grand archway. Thin branches wove together to form the frame, and green, blue, and purple leaves clung all along the arch and hung down. Jaskier longed to touch it all. He felt the immense need to spread this grove’s beauty to his fingers, because his eyes alone could not take it.

He didn’t. Instead, he led them through the archway, and into the court, toward the music he heard in the distance.

The court itself was… unfathomable. Jaskier tried to keep his eyes forward, to focus on the fae in the center of the large, open grove--the queen?--but it was hard not to notice the beautiful, otherworldly creatures around him. Each one was a varying degree of human-like, but each one was ethereal.

All sound stopped as Jaskier and Geralt stepped through the archway into the grove. Even Jaskier, who flourished under attention, found himself resisting the urge to shrink back into himself. He felt the weight of hundreds of eyes and his steps stuttered, but he and Geralt continued on until they were before the queen.

She sat on a majestic throne of vines and bark, and though it had been carved into a seat, Jaskier was sure even her throne was as alive as anything else here. She looked inhuman--with large ears extending past her shoulders to a point, and long, swooping horns before a crown of flowers and leaves. Her face was pointed, from her chin, to her nose, to the edges of her eyes, a sharp elegance that should have made her look cruel or monstrous, but instead made her look striking and imposing and beautiful. Interest burned in the deep, deep green of her eyes, and Jaskier understood, immediately, how anyone could fall under her spell. If Jaskier wasn’t so clear on his goal, and his hand held so tightly by his witcher, Jaskier was certain he would have fallen, too.

“It is not often we get a human or a witcher here of their own volition, much less both at once,” the queen mused.

Jaskier fell into a sweeping bow, though he did not let go of Geralt’s hand. A half-breath later, he felt Geralt bend as well. When he rose, he put on his most charming smile.

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance,” Jaskier said. “Your court is beautiful; I am but a humble bard, and even with my skill in poetry, I do not believe I could capture the true nature of its beauty. Or yours, for that matter.”

The queen smiled, seemingly satisfied, and she raised a hand to her face. Her pointed fingers, almost talon-like, scraped gracefully along her cheek. “I am Ignea, Queen of this court. You,” she pointed a finger at Jaskier, “want something. What is it?”

Jaskier bowed his head again, if only to buy time to consider his words. “I am looking for a fae named Lazuli.”

The fae around them murmured amongst themselves, and Ignea’s eyebrows rose high on her face.

“What could you want with Lazuli?” she asked.

“Lazuli has given me a gift. I wish to return it.”

The murmuring around them grew louder. Geralt’s hand squeezed Jaskier’s, maybe in warning, but Jaskier did not tear his eyes away from the queen. Not until she held up a hand, silencing the chattering around them, and tilted her head pointedly to her right.

From the shadows stepped another fae. One Jaskier had seen so many times in his dreams, he was half convinced he was dreaming now . His features were just as pointed as his queen’s, but while her skin was in hues of gold and browns, Lazuli was painted with blues and greens. What little light there was reflected off his face in a way that seemed almost metallic. There were no whites to his eyes, only a deep, deep black.

“Lazuli,” Jaskier said. He had intended to say so much more. He had a speech planned and everything, all the things he would want to say if he ever came face to face with the fae. As he looked upon Lazuli, though, his voice failed. All he could do was stare as the fae came closer.

“I remember you,” Lazuli said. His voice was deep, musical, a rumbling baritone that cut through the silence like a song. “You wailed so loud, I could hardly think. All hours of the night and day. You ran your mother ragged.”

Jaskier swallowed, the muscles in his jaw working hard to clench his teeth at the mention of Jaskier’s mother. “You made me obedient,” Jaskier answered.

Lazuli nodded. “Your mother begged me to take you. I only wanted you to stop, but she wanted you gone.”

Jaskier shook his head. “No, that’s not--she told me--she said she tried to stop you. That you made me obedient so you wouldn't hear me anymore.” His voice sounded weak even to his own ears. Had his mother tried to give him to the fae?

“Humans lie,” Lazuli snarled, and the other fae in the court voiced their displeasure, snarling incoherently at Jaskier. Jaskier glanced around at them, but the angry cacophony didn’t seem directed at him so much, as humans in general.

Queen Ignea held up her hand again, and silence overtook the grove once more.

“She brought you to the forest, placed you in a faery circle. She begged for someone to come, to take you, and I came. I don’t take infants, particularly not ones who cry as you did,” Lazuli said.

Lazuli’s words made Jaskier feel hollow. Still, he focused on Lazuli’s inky black eyes, his face betraying no emotion.

“Obedience was a compromise.”

“She lied to me,” Jaskier breathed.

Lazuli’s smile was cruel. “You lie as she does.”

Jaskier blinked, but there was no point in arguing with the fae. He was right. How else had he survived this long, but by lying at every chance he could? How many half-truths had he told to avoid his curse? Jaskier built himself a home of deception and misdirection.

“My mother is dead,” he said instead.

“And now you are here to have her wishes undone.”

Lazuli was amused. His lips stayed quirked in that cruel smile, and a glimmer of humor shone in his dark eyes. Jaskier nodded.

“I do not take back my gifts, human. Why should I make an exception for you?” Lazuli asked.

“My life is not my own. At best, I am an accidental captive of other humans who would have me serve them. At worst, I am enslaved to their whims. My mother has trapped me with her lies and her cruelty. I wish to be free, for the first time in my life, to be my own person. I ask that you do not punish me for my actions as an infant, or the lies of my mother. Were we not both victims to her?” Jaskier asked, and though his hands shook, his voice was steady.

Something softened in Lazuli’s face.

“Humans lie,” Lazuli repeated, and though he pointed an accusing finger at Jaskier, this time he did not snarl. The court did not murmur in agreement. In fact, the grove seemed still around him. “You lie as she did.”

“She gave me no choice. Lying and tricks are all I have.”

Lazuli seemed to consider this. He stepped closer to Jaskier, and Jaskier did not move under his scrutiny. Lazuli circled him first, then circled Geralt. Geralt was just as stiff as Jaskier, and his grip remained firm on Jaskier’s hand. Lazuli stopped in front of Geralt, examining the witcher’s face as his head tilted to the side, and Geralt met his eye. Lazuli’s face broke into a wide, toothy grin.

“This one is yours,” Lazuli said, his face flicking back to Jaskier. “And still you lie.”

Jaskier’s mouth went dry. He tried, in vain, to rewet his lips, to speak, but Lazuli cut him off with a hand as soon as Jaskier’s mouth finally opened to speak.

“You will break the gift yourself.” Jaskier wanted to argue, but Lazuli’s hand was still raised. He had studied all he could of Seelie Court rules, and none of them implied that interruption was untoward, but Jaskier wasn’t willing to take a chance on that. “Tell your truths, and you will never be compelled to again.”

Jaskier’s mouth opened again, and he wanted to press more, to ask Lazuli what truths he meant , but Lazuli turned on his heel and disappeared back into the grove. The stillness ended around them, and once again Jaskier could hear the chattering of the court’s fae.

Ignea stood and strode toward them, and Jaskier could still clearly read the interest on her face. Her fingers reached out and the talon-like ends trailed across Jaskier’s cheek. They were not sharp, Jaskier was surprised to find.

“You have a beautiful face, and I suspect a beautiful voice. I would have you grace my court with your music,” Queen Ignea said, and Jaskier’s blood ran cold.

“You flatter him,” Geralt interrupted. Ignea’s eyes cut to the witcher curiously, clearly delighted that he was finally speaking. “Has he not been put through enough? He has been entertainment enough for the humans; do not ask it of him for your court.”

Ignea’s lips quirked in a small smile and she turned her attention to Geralt, though her fingers trailed down his chest rather than his face. “I see. He is yours, as well, mighty Witcher.” She tapped a finger against Geralt’s chest, just over his slowly beating heart, then drew away, back to her throne. Ignea sat herself upon it and flicked her fingers dismissively. “You may leave the way you came, before I am tempted to keep you both.”

Jaskier was glad for Geralt’s steady presence beside him, leading him out of the court and through the crossroads again. He moved as if he was in a trance, just barely managing to keep one foot in front of the other. The journey back felt longer, as if they had to traverse miles before finding the exit, and perhaps they had. Or, perhaps, it was simply an illusion sent to confuse Jaskier and allow the queen to keep him.

Still, at Geralt’s lead, they found themselves back in their own plane, stepping over the wildflowers at the entrance to the crossroads. It was dark now, though Jaskier still was unsure how long they had spent in the Feywild. Had it been minutes, or hours? It didn’t seem to matter, but Jaskier still found himself unsettled.

Geralt led them far away from the crossroads in silence. They returned to where they had tied up Roach, and Geralt led them farther still, until Jaskier could no longer see the walls of Lettenhove in the distance, and Geralt could no longer feel the thrum of magical, fae activity. The moon was high in the sky before they finally made camp, and Geralt barely had their bedrolls laid out before Jaskier was collapsing onto one.

Their camp was set up solely by Geralt as Jaskier curled his arms around his legs and stared. When Geralt joined Jaskier, Jaskier pressed his face into Geralt’s chest and let out a shuddering breath. He went boneless against his witcher, and Geralt lowered them both to the ground. Only once Geralt’s arms were safely wrapped around Jaskier’s body did Jaskier finally allow himself to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

read chapter 11

[nicole-lynne]

All The Love Songs - Chapter 2

Summary: Thea has a few strange interactions with Jake and she goes to the Greta Van Fleet concert. 

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x OFC (eventually) and Thea x Mason (OMC) 

Notes: I changed Thea’s nickname to Teddy so there is one change!  I hope you guys all love the story! Please like, comment, reblog, and follow ^_^ 

If there was a higher power in the world, they would strike her down with a very contagious flu that would require her to stay in bed for an undetermined amount of time. They would cause a blackout, an alien invasion, or a zombie outbreak. Any possible thing that would make it impossible for her to go to this show. 

Instead, Thea was trying on her twelfth outfit of the night, which was actually the first outfit she’d tried on. Her favorite black leather skirt paired with a maroon shirt with an embroidered rose on it for the band, adding her thigh high boots to the outfit for good measure. With her dark hair curled loosely down her back and her smokey makeup, the look was absolutely killer. 

So why did she feel completely self-conscious and nervous? During the most difficult time of her life, New York had become her safe haven. Her friends had become a harbor in a dark night. That feeling had been washed away with a single ten minute conversation with her ex boyfriend and the fear of having him step into her new world. 

There was a quick rap at the door and Sam popped his head in. He had his black leather pants on with a bright teal button up hanging open revealing his muscular chest. 

“Hey squirt, I was thinking it was almost time to head out.” Looking you up and down, his eyes bugged out of his sockets. “Wow, you look stunning.” 

“Thanks, Sammy.” She looked down sheepishly. “Very classic look for a rockin’ show. It’s going to be a great night.” 

“I hope so. Josh said he thinks an agent might come so it would be great if something could come from that. I really want this to work...” 

Thea sank down onto her bed and pulled her feet under her, motioning for Sam to follow. It wasn’t very often that she had to give Sam a pep talk. Most days, he was a high-energy, optimistic person who could make her feel like nothing else in the world mattered. 

Today, she could see the doubt behind his brown eyes. 

“You’ve got amazing things in your future, Sammy. That agent would be an idiot if he passed you guys because Greta Van Fleet is the hot ticket. And just know that I’ll be there cheering you on every minute.” 

He patted her knee and shot her a thankful look, “I’m glad I’ve got you, squirt. Our shows wouldn’t be the same without your face in the front row.” 

Since the first show, Thea had always been front and center, cheering the loudest or being the only person in the crowd dancing. At first, people made fun of the spastic girl, but once Greta became a regular, more people started to see their potential. Pretty soon, the whole place was packed for their shows. But Sam still saved her a spot right at the front of the stage. 

“I would never miss a show, at least until you get rockstar famous and are playing like five shows a week. You might have to give me a break then.” 

“Nope, you have to be there. You’re my good luck charm.” 

“Sam!” Gina screeched from the kitchen. “Danny just called, we’re gonna be late!” 

Sam hissed through his teeth. “Oops, okay we better get down there before Danny shits a brick. That’s when you know it’s bad. You coming, tiny?” 

“I’m not sure if Gina is ready or not, can you wait for us?” 

“Sam!” 

“Uh, can you catch up to us? You know how particular Danny is about his pre-show meal.” Thea gave him an understanding smile and Sam jumped forward, kissing the top of her head before bounding out of the room like a golden retriever. The front door slammed and then it was dead quiet in the apartment. 

Gina appeared at the door, a dark purple tank top contrasting with her brown skin. In the darkness, she looked like a sunset on a winter day.

“Babe, you look fabulous! I love that purple color on you.” Thea gushed. “How did I manage to get such a snack for a bestie?” 

“Pure luck, I would guess.” Gina flipped her curls off shoulder theatrically then gestured for Thea to follow her to her room. “I need your help, I can’t decide on the black skinny jeans and boots or the matching purple skirt.” 

Thea circled Gina a few times, evaluating the options. “What about that black skirt you have with the zipper up the front? Then you add your grey booties and your crop leather jacket.” 

“This is why I keep you around.” Gina dropped to her knees and started digging through the bottom of her closet. “So are you ready for tonight?”

“Ehh...” 

“You’re definitely going to turn some heads tonight, you little firecracker. I guess the question is, whose head do you want to turn?”

Thea fell backwards onto Gina’s bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Can we just skip tonight and order take out?” 

“No, you’re avoiding the question. And besides, I do not look this good just to sit on the couch with you.” She lifted her head somewhat to see Gina putting the finishing touches on her outfit. “Now, let’s go before you chicken out like a pussy. All your men are going to be waiting on you.” 

It was now or never. Run and hide from an uncomfortable situation or walk straight into it like the boss that she knew she was. 

~~~

The girls entered the hole-in-the-wall italian restaurant and looked around for the group, finally spotting them at a table in the corner. Jake and Danny were yelling over each other while McKenzi, Danny’s girlfriend, tried to play referee to their argument. No one had noticed them yet. 

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to practice your set at 3 in the morning, it’s ridiculous.” Jake’s hands were flailing around while Danny was shaking his head furiously. 

“If you can blast your music when you’ve got a girl back, then I can play the damn drums. Fair is fair.” Danny retorted, crossing his arms firmly. 

Beside her, Gina nudged her in the ribs but Thea just pretended she hadn’t heard that last part and cleared her throat, all eyes falling on her. 

“My bodacious babes, you both look dazzling!” Josh pronounced, knocking his chair back and motioned to the empty chairs.

Her first instinct was to sit in the chair next to Jake, but his attention was diverted to the glass in front of him, avoiding making eye contact at all costs. Rolling her eyes, Thea slid into the seat between Josh and Sam, across from Danny and McKenzi, letting Gina across from Jake. 

“So are you guys pumped for tonight? Tyler said it’s supposed to be the biggest crowd you’ve ever had.” 

“When did you talk to Tyler?” Sam asked quietly, only so Thea could hear. 

She raised an eyebrow, “Hmm, on Wednesday I think it was. I went by the bar after work and he was there. Why?” 

“I don’t like that guy. He hits on every girl who walks in there, it’s annoying-”

McKenzi tapped on the table, stopping whatever Sam was going to say next. “And why shouldn’t he hit on her? She looks hot! You’ll have to beat the guys off with a stick tonight.” 

A few seats down, Gina choked back a laugh into her water. Thea shot her a murderous glare and smiled at the girl. “Thanks, Kenz, you look amazing too. That fringe jacket is to die for.” McKenzi excitedly ran her fingers through the strings, making them dance in the air. The rest of the comment vanished into thin air. 

“Can we please get back to the matter at hand?” Josh’s voice boomed over everyone else. Thea shrunk her seat, unprepared for them to go back to discussing Jake’s love life being interrupted by drums. “The setlist for tonight is still undecided.”

 Oh thank god. 

The boys all launched into a discussion about which songs would be best in which order. It gave her the chance for her mind to wander. To think about if Mason and Declan had gotten the apartment, why Jake was avoiding eye-contact, what Mason might wear tonight, how drunk she wanted to get. 

A light tap on her shoulder brought her back to reality. “Hey, are you alright, tiny?”

“Yeah, I’m great. Just have some stuff on my mind, I guess I spaced out.” Her eyes flashed over to Jake, who was in the middle of a passionate discussion with Gina on the effects of music on mental and emotional health, before looking back down to the table.   

“Anything I can help with?” 

She patted his knee appreciatively, “not really, Sammy, but thank you.”

The best thing and worst thing about Sam was that he was an observer. In an instant, he could zero in on the smallest dip in someone’s mood. Most times, it was the thing she looked forward to at the end of a long day. However, when she was trying to keep a secret, it made things a lot more difficult. 

Thea nervously picked at a loose thread on the table cloth, praying that something would grab Sam’s attention, and thanking the lord when the waitress walked up to the table. The girl moved out of the aisle and squeezed in the small space by Jake’s chair, flashing him a flirty smile. 

“Hi, I’m Sienna. Have you guys decided what you’re in the mood for today?” She asked enthusiastically. The group all nodded at each other, agreeing that they were ready to order. “Well let’s start with you cutie.” Her hand was a feather on Jake’s shoulder and she leaned in close to him.

A giant pile of jealousy slammed onto Thea’s chest as she watched Jake return the waitresses smile from across the table. A vision played in her mind of sweeping her hand off his shoulder and then pulling him in for a kiss, making it clear that he was hers. 

“Ahem, T, it’s your turn.” Sam jostled her shoulder, startingly her. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” frantically, she grabbed for the menu and scanned it, ignoring the feeling of Jake’s dark eyes boring a hole in her skull. At this very moment, she wished that a hole would open up and swallow her for eternity. 

“She’ll have the chicken fettuccine with no mushrooms and mix in little marinara sauce please.” 

Thea’s head snapped up to see Jake ordering for her. The waitress looked back at her and Thea slowly nodded her head indicating that was really what she wanted. Sienna gathered the menus in her arms and trudged off to the kitchen. All eyes at the table moved to look at Jake in complete confusion. 

Jake sat still for a second before shifting in his seat uneasily. “What?” He croaked out.

“Uh how did you know her order, dude?” Danny’s forehead crinkled. 

Jake stared at him blankly, “because it’s her favorite dish here? Even though she acts like she’s gonna get something new, she orders it every time.” 

On the inside, butterflies were flying around in Thea’s stomach at the thought that Jake had noticed her. He had noticed her in a way that wasn’t only meant to be physical. There was something that made him remember the things she ordered and her behaviors. She wanted to squeal and dance and jump around like a crazy person. 

On the outside, she was cool as a cucumber, instead just giving him a thankful smile and putting her attention on Josh, who had already begun telling his next dramatic story. 

This didn’t change anything. They were still just two people in the same friend group, nothing more. Nothing more to the public eye. 

~~~

“I’m gonna need a round of shots to make it through tonight.” Gina chuckled at Thea’s whiny tone. “And gin. Lots of gin.” 

“Alright, this round’s on me.” 

Elbowing her way past groups of people to the bar, Gina already looked completely done with the crowd. The entire place was packed wall-to-wall with people, all mingling with each other, creating a single hum of mixed voices. It was dimly lit, the only light coming from the few fixtures scattered on the walls. 

She’d spotted a few Greta Van Fleet shirts floating around, and for a second, she wondered if it would be possible to spot the agent or if they would blend right in with the sea of faces. 

“I swear to god, I will murder someone by the end of the night. It took so long for Tyler to even get to me. All those stupid girls were flocking around him like seagulls.” Gina huffed as she slammed the tray of drinks down on the table. 

Thea snatched a shot and downed it in one swift motion. The alcohol burned the back of her throat and sat warmly in her stomach. She reached for one more and shot it down quickly too, grabbing the gin and tonic to chase it down. 

“Dude, I need you to slow your roll.” Gina looked baffled.

“Sorry, G, that was just a weird dinner.” Her throat was on fire from the alcohol.

Gina took a shot of her own. “Yeah, what the hell was up with that? First he acted like you didn’t even exist and then he’s quoting your food order like it was a sonnet. Aren’t you guys supposed to be acting normal or something?”

“I have no clue what’s going on. I’m not usually in this type of position. I don’t know how to be friends with benefits with someone that I like-like but that someone doesn’t like-like me back.”

 “No one does. Because you’re not supposed to get in these situations when you like someone. It only leads to heartbreak.”

Thea pouted, “I didn’t intend on getting in this situation, jerk-” 

“Teddy! Gina!” Mason’s voice called from behind them and they turned in their chairs to see Mason and Declan weaving between the bodies. Impulsively, Thea grabbed another shot and slammed it down. Gina grumbled under her breath and moved to stand up, pulling Thea out of her seat too. 

She hugged Declan casually and stepped towards Mason, gulping as she looked up at him. Instead of his usual jean jacket, Mason had a red sports jacket on over his black hoodie. Damn he looked good, like always. He held out his arms and she stepped into them on instinct, her heart fluttering as he wrapped her in a strong hug. She inhaled the sweet scent of bergamot and cedarwood, the smell of the cologne he’d worn since she’d bought it for him in freshman year, and a slight hint of his favorite gum, winter mint. It was invigorating.

“Well, I had gotten us all shots, but T took yours, I’m sorry.” 

Mason laughed at Gina’s sour face, “it’s all good, G, I’ll just grab a couple beers. You guys want anything while I’m up there?” 

They all shook their heads no and sat back down while Mason disappeared into the crowd. Declan started joking about why they’d been late and the girls both started cackling at them getting lost. 

“How do you get lost? It’s a grid system, Dec!” Thea exclaimed zealously. 

From the side of the stage, Sam watched as Gina and Thea greeted two random guys with hugs. One guy headed towards the bar, but the other one planted himself right in between them. 

“What the fuck?” He muttered to himself. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam jumped at Jake’s voice behind him.

Looking away, he tried to pretend he hadn’t just been staring at the girls. “Uh, it’s nothing...”

“Samuel, just fucking tell me.” 

“I just didn’t realize that Gina and Thea had invited some friends to the show. It’s not a big deal.” 

Jake peeked around the corner, his eyes instantly finding Thea at her usual table just as a guy walked up behind her and squeezed her shoulder. She beamed as he sat down in the chair beside her and laid his arm across the back of her chair. 

Keeping his face neutral, he looked back at Sam. “The more the merrier, huh?” 

“Yeah, I just don’t recognize them...” 

“They’re probably just friends from work.” 

Sam sulked. “Do you think they could have boyfriends? They haven’t mentioned any guys to me, but you know girls, they’re weird as hell. All four of them look pretty chummy.” 

“I doubt it, dude. You live with them, I think you’d know if they were hooking up with people.” Jake shook Sam’s shoulder roughly, “don’t focus on that. Focus on melting these people’s faces off.” 

“Gentleman, the time is now!” Josh flourished his arms into the air and stepped out onto the stage. 

The crowd roared loudly as the rest of the lights dimmed, only the stage lit up. One by one, the guys followed after Josh. They were all dressed to the nines. Josh lit up the stage in his paper white jumpsuit, a little white feather earring dangling on the side of his head. Danny was wearing his favorite leather vest without a shirt. And Jake, he looked like a god tonight. He had a black jacket with beautiful gold emblems open over his bare chest. 

Without hesitation, Thea jumped up from her seat and walked toward the stage. She glanced back and saw the rest of them still sitting. “Aren’t you guys coming?” 

“I’m gonna sit back here for a bit, babe. I like being able to see the whole stage.” Gina called, clapping loudly. Mason’s eyes darted between Gina and then Declan before following after Thea. 

“Somehow, you still have me chasing after you.” He joked, nuding her shoulder.

She looked back at him and winked, “this will be worth it, trust me.” 

She rushed up to the center stage and waved at Sam excitedly. He nodded back at her just as Jake ripped into the first riff of Highway Tune. They shredded through the song and immediately went right into Edge of Darkness. This was her favorite song because Jake had a remarkable solo for almost five minutes. 

Once in a while, she would make a silly face at Sam but he ignored her every time. Her heart sank at the thought that maybe Jake had told him their secret. Her eyes drifted to watch Jake, his head was thrown back and his eyes were scrunched closed while he played the notes. 

“These guys are awesome! How did you say you know them?” Mason’s voice was right in her ear causing goosebumps to prickle across her skin. 

She leaned in a little bit and tilted her chin so he could hear her over the music. “They’re my best friends. Sam, the bass player, is me and Gina’s roommate.” 

Mason moved his head back and blinked in surprise. “They’re really good, that guitar player is fantastic.” 

“Yeah, he’s on fire tonight!” Thea bounced up and down just as Josh stepped back in to finish up the song. 

~~~ 

After an hour, the band finished their set and disappeared off to the side of the stage. Thea let out a deep breath, the adrenaline making her heart pound, and grinned up at Mason. She had forgotten that he was there after a while, being so focused on Greta playing a flawless set. 

Her eyes had constantly been changing from Sam, who had barely glanced at her the whole time, and Jake, who had been so focused on the songs that he had barely even looked up. 

“Come on, let’s head back to the table.” She stepped backwards towards the back of the bar. “What did you think?” 

“They’re great, they all seem to have real talent with their instruments. The singer-” 

“Josh.”

“Yeah, Josh, he’s amazing. His voice is so old school rock n’ roll. I love it.” 

They returned to the table just in time to hear Declan raving about how good the show had been. There was a small feeling of pride in Thea’s chest to know that her friends enjoyed the band. These were her guys and it felt good to see the reactions from newcomers. 

“Oh my gosh, they did amazing!” McKenzi shouted over the rest of the voices as she plopped down in an empty chair, looking completely dazed and her hair was flying all over the place. Gina leaned across the table and tried to tame some of her flyaways but it was a lost cause and they both started giggling. 

From across the room, Thea could see the boys breaking down their equipment. Every one of them was completely in sync, moving one way while someone else moved the other way. It was clear they were one unit and that’s why everything worked as well as it did. 

Danny finished putting away his bass drum and the group jumped down from the stage and crossed the room. Josh swept around the group and placed a kiss on top of Gina’s, McKenzi’s, and Thea’s heads lovingly - something he did after every show as part of his ritual as a way to thank all the positive spirits. 

Slipping into the chair next to McKenzi, Danny pulled her into a tight embrace, leaving splotches of sweat on her shirt. Behind them, Sam and Jake hovered back, both of them watching Mason and Declan with blank stares. Thea squirmed uncomfortably at the tension she felt was being directed right at her. 

“Ahem, guys, this is Declan and Mason, some friends from high school.” Gina finally spoke up. “Dec, Mas, this is Josh, Sam, Jake, Danny, and Danny’s girlfriend, McKenzi. Sam is mine and Thea’s other roommate.” 

Mason shook everyone’s hands as Gina introduced them and Thea cringed at the intensity that Sam squeezed his hand when it was his turn, but Mason just grinned like it hadn’t even phased him. He had never been one to back down from an awkward situation. 

Now that everyone had officially met, maybe the rest of the night could go off without a hitch, Thea prayed. She couldn’t keep herself from wondering what Jake might be thinking, he hadn’t looked at her once since the restaurant. 

“Are you guys gonna sit down?” Thea asked curiously. 

“I’ll be at the bar.” Jake replied tersely before bee-lining it away from the table. Thea’s lips parted in surprise before her eyes moved to look at Sam sadly. 

“Sammy?” 

“Ya know, I think I’m gonna get a drink too.” He replied bluntly. 

Thea glimpsed over at Gina desperately who gave her a half-hearted shrug in response. Both boys stood side-by-side at the bar, their shoulders filled with tension, and she so badly wanted to follow after them but it was clear they wanted some space. 

Her heart dropped slightly as she saw a girl saunter up to Jake and start flirting with him. Instantly, he had his charming smile on and was leaning in so he could hear her better. Thea could feel the tears burn her eyes but she blinked them away as quick as possible. 

“So,” Josh clapped his hands together loudly, “Mason and Declan, you guys went to highschool with our girls?” 

“Yep, since sixth grade. We were attached at the hip for most of it.” Declan said before taking a sip of his beer. “Mason and Teddy dated for like four years too.” He said and everyone’s eyes went wide. 

“Who’s Teddy?” McKenzi asked, her brows crinkled deeply. 

“Um, Thea? Ya know, short for Theadora.” Mason sounded a bit baffled. 

Danny chortled, “T, your name is Theadora?” 

“What of it, Wagner?” Thea hissed and Danny’s face went pale as he shrunk behind McKenzi’s shoulder, but she pushed him away from her. “Anyways, can we please move on from my hideous name, please?” 

“So, Mason, what kind of job do you have?” McKenzi intervened, clearly seeing how embarrassed Thea was feeling at the whole situation. One reason that Thea hoped Danny would never let that amazing woman walk out of his life.

Mason gave her appreciative smile for trying to divert the conversation. “Oh, I just started working for Atlantic Records Group as a talent agent.”

[out-of-this-dimension]

Night, Leon & Krystal (platonic)

11 ALW; THORNBITE OUTPOST, KEW -- 

She was a diamond in the rough and she knew it.  This world Krystal had found herself in was barbaric and nightmarish.  She stood out from the others and the vixen could not exactly say if it was in a good or bad way.  When she walked Thornbite Outpost, she could tell that there were eyes following her.  Was it her azure fur? Was it the way she carried herself?  Was it her Star Wolf uniform, perhaps?  Did they know who she was?  … Did they know her secret?

Kew was a lawless land.  Perhaps that was why Star Wolf visited it so often for supplies and for work.  Its forests, filled with briars and flora the size of grown men, were hostile and maze-like that it was no wonder bodies were found every so often.  Usually they died of starvation.  There was no real Cornerian rule here-- not anymore, at least.  Kew’s close enough proximity to Venom had made it a haven for Lylat Wars refugees-- the refugees that hadn’t gone with Andrew and his rebellion or Wolf and his promise of a sanctuary for the downtrodden outcasts of society.  They lived in small colonies and they fought over their land.  Anarchy wasn’t quite the correct word to describe it.  But it felt close enough to it.  

Krystal walked through the outpost’s gates, not really caring to look back over her shoulder at the ramshackle town some of the Venomians had built.  Panther had gone to bed after drinking a few too many beers.  Wolf was catching up with some outlaw buddies of his.  Leon was spirits-know-where but she bet he was doing something productive.  

The forests didn’t scare her-- it never had.  There was an allure about it that drew her in that particular night.  A glittering blue fog had rolled in around the outpost, sweeping about the base of the tree trunks like a floating river.  Glowing mushrooms ate at the sides of trees, making the pitch black of night seem a little less scary.  There was something mystical about this place that reminded her of home-- of Cerinia.  Maybe that was what compelled her to go exploring in the dead of night.

She walked until the outpost behind her was obscured by the darkness of night and the thin trees both.  The isolation made her breathe easy.  She let her shoulders relax.  Krystal felt like she had to keep up appearances with the others-- maybe it was because she had been told by Peppy to spy on Star Wolf.  She had been playing the role for awhile now… so long that it sometimes felt a little too natural but not long enough to forget what this all was-- a big sham.  A big sham that she… felt guilty about.  Felt stifled by, at times.  Sometimes, she wished she could just leave her communicator with Peppy turned off forever.  Sometimes, she wished she didn’t have to report in.  

Sometimes?  She wished the sham was real.  And sometimes?  She realized she could make it real if she wanted to.  

“And where do you think you’re going?” a voice came from behind.  “Not running away to report our whereabouts to the Cornerians, are you?”

The vixen turned around.  It was very rare for anyone to sneak up on her.  She realized his thoughts had been quiet if he had been able to come this close to her without her detecting him.  For a moment, Krystal admired his ability to keep his emotions under such tight control.  But then she recognized the danger in that.  And the implications of his words.

“Still don’t trust me?” the vixen asked with a raised brow.  She told herself to play it off.  Leon was the most paranoid out of the group so this sort of interaction was within his nature.  “I’ve been on the team for a month.  If I was going to betray you, wouldn’t I have already done it?”

“That remains to be seen,” Leon answered. “But typically innocent people don’t go wandering off in the night.”

“I’m not running,” Krystal pointed out.  “I just wanted to go for a walk is all.”

Leon did not look convinced.  He folded his arms over his thin chest.  She took note of the dagger strapped to his forearm, concealed underneath the sleeve of his uniform jacket.  Had he come here armed in case they ran into trouble?  Or was there a more sinister motive?

“This planet reminds me of Cerinia,” Krystal said to him, taking her gaze off of him for a moment.  “There’s an ancient wonder here.  I’ve… missed it.”

The reptile’s expression softened ever so slightly.  He glanced up at the glow of mushrooms decorating the trees.  Their glow was so bright that even in the night, Krystal did not feel like she needed a torch or to even draw her staff to provide more light.  

“Panther does not talk often about Cerinia.  I imagine there are still… wounds,” Leon said after a pause in their conversation.  “But from what he told me, it was truly a beautiful place.  A pity what became of it.”

“I wish I could go back sometimes,” Krystal said. “Do you feel the same about Venom?  I… know it’s still there, but… surely you must miss it too?”

“I do and I do not,” Leon replied.  “Life in poverty is not glamorous.  I do care for my family, though.  Even if perhaps they are upset that I chose to leave Venom for good.”

She could sense emotions rising up past that callous barrier he had created.  There were bits of regret.  Bits, perhaps, that the lizard did not want to admit.  His steadfast loyalty to Wolf may have granted him wings out of a rough lifestyle… but perhaps it had taken away more than Leon wanted to say.  Krystal doubted, though, that he would have done things differently.  She knew him better than that.

“Panther… really likes you,” Leon stated, carnelian eyes narrowed to slits. “I only followed you to make sure you were not doing something that would hurt him.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Krystal said, the lie flowing through her like water.  Fluid.  Seamless.  She had gotten so used to lying that it felt as natural as breathing.  She was not sure that was a good thing.  “Panther… he came into my life at an odd time.  But I’m grateful to him.  He really helped me out.”

When she spoke of Panther, it made her feel guilty.  She never lied when she spoke about him.  Every soft moment they shared, she knew those moments were real… even if her reasoning for being on the team was fabricated.

“I understand that your departure from Star Fox was not… a mutual agreement,” Leon replied.  “At first, I thought you joining the team was odd to put it mildly.  Did Fox not indoctrinate you into thinking we were heartless ruffians without a shred of loyalty between us?”

The vixen felt her heart sink, remembering her last conversation with Fox.  It had been a gradual build, like a tea kettle threatening to boil over.  The vulpine’s personality had shifted after the aparoid invasion.  Their arguments had gotten more frequent.  Krystal’s longing to find more of her people had gotten stronger. Fox had wanted her to focus on the missions.  She couldn’t, though.  She couldn’t focus.  And his temper had begun to flare up to new heights.

“If Wolf had kicked you from the team… what would you have done?” Krystal asked Leon and she saw surprise cross his features.  “Sometimes, you think you’re a good person.  And then you realize that you’re angry.  And sometimes, being angry… makes you realize that you were perhaps not as good of a person as you thought you were.  At first, I joined this team because of Panther but I will admit.  I wanted to hurt Fox.  I wanted him to feel the loneliness, the shock that I had felt when he had dismissed me.”

“If he had done that… I am not sure what I would have done,” Leon admitted quietly. “Star Wolf has been my life for so long now.  Perhaps I understand your plight a little better now.”

“I appreciate that you came to check on me for Panther’s sake,” Krystal said with a small smile. “I won’t lie.  I do love him.  I want him to be happy.  He deserves that much.”  She paused, then added. “Walk with me?”

Leon looked apprehensive but nodded.  The two began to walk in the dark forest, keeping a moderate pace.  The lizard looked to her, studying her face carefully.  Their conversation turned to silence as they wandered, curving around the outskirts of the outpost and keeping to the trees.  Small glowing wisp-like spores fell from the treetops and Krystal caught one in her palm and held it up for Leon to see.  The lizard observed it carefully before giving it a nod of approval.  Krystal let the spore fly away.

They continued for some time, the quiet interrupted by occasional chatter.  She could tell he was analyzing her even without using her powers.  The more they walked and talked, the more she could feel him relax.  Krystal supposed she ought to have been happy.  But her heart panged with guilt one more time and she tried to distract herself by just keeping her eyes forward.

When the outpost gates came into view once more, Leon stopped.  He turned and looked at her carefully.  His scrutinizing gaze made her feel mildly uncomfortable.  The vixen carefully distracted herself by adjusting some of the fringe of her bangs. 

“What you said earlier was wrong,” Leon stated with such brutal honesty that Krystal flitted her ears back in surprise. “Being angry… is normal.  It doesn’t make you evil.”

“I…” the vixen began. “I suppose there’s truth to that.”

“Remember that,” Leon replied and walked towards the gates.  

Krystal stared after him, wondering if somehow he had been able to read her thoughts.  After a minute of careful consideration, she concluded he had not.  Yet there was something about him that made her feel as though she could see through him.  Maybe it was the way he looked at her.  Maybe it was his precise choice of words when he spoke to her.  Regardless, it… unnerved her.  And somehow?  It was relieving.  It felt like she had gone her whole life wearing mask after mask.  Sometimes, having someone seeing you for what you were was comforting.  

It certainly made her feel less crazy, at least.

And perhaps it was the final straw.  The final instance that made her realize she needed this.  A new start.  A new team.  She needed to turn off her communications with Peppy.  She needed that breath of fresh air.  

“Are you coming?” Leon asked.

“Yes.  Yes, I’m coming,” Krystal replied and hurried inside after him.

[vannahfanfics]

May I please request a RokuNami fanfic where Roxas comforts Naminé after the events of KH3? I really love your writings, and I’ve been craving for some good RokuNami content for a while, so I’d take a chance and make this request. I know you’re busy with other stuff, so please don’t worry about how long it’ll take for you to finish it. 🥰

Thank you very much for your patience! ^u^ I hope this is to your liking. I’m not sure if you other other requests in queue right now, but if so, I’m going through them as fast as I can so stay tuned~

Existence

The emerald leaves quivered in the rolling breeze, filling the earthy air of the woods with the sound of their rattling rush. The gentle cacophony complimented the resonant birdsong echoing overhead. It was punctuated with the drumming of a woodpecker boring his nest into one of the sturdy oaks of the little forest. A pair of squirrels rummaged among the fallen acorns, stuffing them into their cheeks pouches until they bulged profusely. The rest they buried in a little pocket of soil, likely to be forgotten and give birth to an oak sapling in the coming summer. Naminé's blue eyes watched the small rodents closely, while her hand skated across the paper, penciling a rendition of the brown squirrels to life. 

The rustling of her pencil case startled them into the trees. They clawed up the trunk to vanish among the green leaves and peer down at Naminé with beady black eyes. Naminé chuckled at their skittishness and retrieved her green colored pencil to add more details to the grass, ferns, and trees in her drawing. Once she finished, she brushed away the eraser bits and pencil chunks and admired her handiwork. She had captured the little wood in everlasting purity, down to the pair of squirrels prancing about for their meal. 

The squirrels' tails twitched as a twig snapped, piercing the tranquil atmosphere like an arrow. Naminé peered around the girthy trunk of the tree amongst whose roots she lounged to sweep her gaze around the small wood. At first, she could see only mulberry bushes and thickets surrounding the dirt path, until a sprout of blonde hair appeared around the edge of a skinny birch. 

"Naminé?" Roxas called, cupping his hand to his mouth. His voice carried through the empty air to breach the corners of the forest. 

"Here!" she answered with a little wave. Roxas’ ocean-blue eyes landed upon her, and his lips curled upward into a small smile. Naminé immediately dropped hers to the ground as the clawed hand of guilt twisted her heart. He really shouldn't be smiling at me… she thought sadly. I'm mainly the reason he suffered so much and even… had to disappear. She reclined back against the sturdy oak, anxiety bubbling in her belly as his crunching footsteps grew ever closer. 

"Naminé?" His voice was soft and troubled. Naminé did not deserve his concern. Flushing with shame, she played with the corner of her notebook, thumbing the stack of pages. Her mouth twitched as Roxas squatted down beside her to inspect her latest creation. "You've gotten better," he remarked. She dared to peer through her peripheral vision at him and found him warmly admiring the artistry. "It almost seems like I'm looking at a photograph." This time, the exaggerated compliment made her blush. 

"It's not that good." 

"I certainly couldn't make something like this," he insisted with a loose gesture over the page. Despite herself, Naminé smiled. It was always nice to receive compliments on one's work. Yet… she thought uncomfortably as the doubt crept back into her mind. He shouldn't be so nice to me. He can't have forgotten what I did. "What's that funny look on your face for?" he asked and plopped down in the grass beside her. Naminé's cheeks brightened, and she resumed fiddling with her drawing notebook. 

"I-I thought you were with Hayner and the others playing Struggle?" she said, hoping the conversation would shift without much resistance. Roxas sneered and drew his knee up so he could lay his arm over it. 

"I was, but Hayner's a sore loser. I demolished him three sets in a row, so he decided to give up." Roxas' brazen confidence made her giggle a little. She could very much imagine competitive Hayner flinging the foam Struggle wand after suffering such a humiliating defeat. Roxas smiled brightly at her little chuckles. "Anyway, Olette suggested I come check on you. You've been out here a while."

"I suppose I just got side-tracked. There are a lot of good things to draw out here." Roxas raised an eyebrow and gestured at her drawing pad. She flushed fiercely, feeling somewhat self-conscious, but would not deny the boy his perusing pleasure. He slid the book from her lap and began to flip through her most recent drawings. A curious bluebird peeked up at them, seemingly disgruntled that its meal of an earthworm had been interrupted by watchful eyes. A cluster of slimy brown mushrooms crowned by three white-winged moths bunched among the roots of a tree. A mottled thrush struck a snail’s shell against a rugged round rock, hoping to crack it so it could feast on the gooey creature inside. A patch of dandelions swayed in the gentle breeze; a few of its delicate seeds floated on the wind to a new home.

“Wow,” he breathed in admiration. Roxas’ eyes absorbed every minute detail of the colored pages like he was attempting to glean some hidden meaning within the pencil wax. Naminé flushed and fidgeted beside him. She had never really let anyone pore over her drawings like this before; she wasn’t used to such a high level of praise. And on top of that, coming from Roxas… I am undeserving. “Naminé, these are really gre- Hey, why are crying?” he gasped, dropping the drawing pad.

Naminé had even realized that tears had sprung to the corners of her eyes. Looking away in embarrassment, she wiped them away with the knuckles of her index fingers. “Naminé? What’s wrong?” His tone of voice was just so kind, so pleading. Would he forgive her if she apologized? The weight of her sins was suffocating on her chest, making it feel like her lungs were gripped in a steel vise. Whimpering pitifully, she just inched away from him, hugging her knees to her body. Subconsciously, Naminé thought that if she squeezed herself tight enough, she would blot right out of existence- just like she had doomed him to be all that time ago. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Roxas raise a hand, hesitant to touch her.

“… I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Roxas’ fingertips brushed lightly over her elbow, sending electric sparks jumping through her nerves. Naminé twiddled her thumbs nervously and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “… Is it me?” he asked suddenly. Naminé’s cheeks burned apple-red, ashamed that her actions would lead him to question himself. Hastily, she shook her head, making her platinum-blonde hair bounce around her shoulders.

“No! It’s me!” she corrected loudly. When she realized she had all but admitted the source of her anxiety, she flushed darker and fisted the soft fabric of her white dress. There was nothing for it now; she had to confess. “It’s me,” she repeated in a small voice. “I just can’t understand why you’re being nice to me.”

He blinked slowly.

“Um… Well, I don’t understand why you think I shouldn’t be nice to you.”

“Because it’s my fault!” she shouted, finally forcing herself to look him in the eyes. Roxas’ oceanic irises were swimming with confusion, which only served to frustrate her more. “It’s my fault you had to disappear.”

“Oh. That.” His tone was flat and unfeeling. He shifted, pressing his back against the trunk of the tree and parting his legs slightly to begin plucking up the grass blades between his thighs. He wound the thin green shoots between his fingers until he tore them asunder, making the tiny fibers snap one after another. He fiddled with the grass a long time, and soon a pile of destroyed grass blades piled up between them. She watched him anxiously, barely breathing, but had not the courage to probe his mind. “It certainly wasn’t how I wanted to end my summer vacation, even if it was entirely fictional,” he said with a wry, pained smile. Naminé’s fragile heart cracked, and a wave of sickening nausea rolled over her, making her press her arms around her belly. I knew it… He hates me… she thought with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“But I don’t blame you.” She gasped and looked at him incredulously to see him genuinely smiling. “You were a Nobody too, once. The fact that we shouldn’t really have existed in the first place was something we both had to come to terms with.” Naminé squirmed beside him. He wasn’t wrong.

Roxas frowned and tossed one of the shredded grass blades into the air, watching as the breeze caught it to carry it over to the squirrels, which had resumed their hunting among the acorns. His mouth twitched into a smirk. “Sure, you rewrote Sora’s memories, and they ended up bleeding into me, but it’s not like you knew that would happen. Regardless of anything you or I could have done, the result would’ve been the same,” he shrugged and rolled his head to look at her reassuringly. She leaned forward with a broken look.  

“I did everything I could. Riku and DiZ thought we were just Nobodies, but…” she clasped her hands over her heart and grimaced miserably. “I wished more than anything that you and I wouldn’t have to return to Sora and Kairi.”

“And I knew that,” Roxas smiled and turned his head upwards to peer at the patches of sunlight filtering in through the leaves. He picked up a small leaf that had been ripped from the branches by an animal or a fierce gust of wind and tossed it up. It spun slowly as it floated back down to land on his lap. He repeated the action, smiling wanly. “Deep down, I knew that, so I never blamed you.” He tossed the leaves aside and rested his hands behind his head, in a very Sora-like gesture, but it carried the air of confidence that was so inherently Roxas. “Besides, thanks to Sora being hopelessly stubborn, we’re all here now, right?” he smirked and gave her an amused side-eye. “So, don’t cry anymore. He wouldn’t like it if you did, and for the record, neither do I.” A pink haze drifted up to her cheeks, and she resumed fiddling with the hem of her dress. She wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.

So, she settled for something simple.

“Thank you, Roxas.”

He smiled kindly at her and crossed his legs, leaving one hand behind his head while the other held out her drawing book to her. Naminé took it with a grateful smile and flipped it open to a blank page.

“What’re you going to draw now?”

“The two of us.” His smile widened, and he settled more comfortably against the robust trunk of the tree before drifting his eyes shut. Naminé didn’t necessarily need him to serve as a model, but she was grateful for his company, nonetheless. Using a light gray pencil, she sketched out the frame before she plucked a honey-gold one from within the confines of her pouch. She held it up to the light, admiring the way the sun made its golden hue shine all the brighter. It seemed like the pencil contained the sun’s rays itself in solid form.

“I don’t suppose you have a name for your drawing yet?” he asked her with a smirk, cracking an eye open to peer at her through blond lashes. Naminé smiled and set the golden pencil to the paper, sketching out his fluffy hair.

“I think I’ll call it Sunshine.” He blinked, then looked up at his curling bangs. He snorted in laughter and pinched a few of the thick strands between his thumb and forefinger, twisting them around.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He scooched closer to her, slipping an arm around her shoulders rather than crushing it up against her side. Naminé didn’t mind, but his closeness and rapt attention brought a flush to her cheeks anyway. He was like sunshine, bathing her in his warmth as she slowly brought the pair of them to life on the page- seated under a sprawling oak tree, tucked within its roots, smiling and laughing together. It was the future she had imagined for them all those many moons ago, when their lives were forfeit, and they simply begged for existence. Smiling happily, she leaned her head against his shoulder, and in turn, he pressed his cheek into the top of her head with a little nuzzle that tickled her scalp.

“Roxas?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad things turned out this way.”

“Me too, Naminé.”

Grinning, she continued to breathe life into the page, capturing the absolute reality of the two of them side-by-side in the quaint little wood. She took extra care to paint the smiles on their faces, capturing forever the joy the two of them were so plainly feeling.

Thank you for always being there for me. 

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork

[rustleandeddy]

Chapter 14

Reading a book that is many times larger than one’s body is a slow and challenging endeavor. Rustle learned this in no uncertain terms as he flitted to the corner of a page and peeled it back to begin another spell. All of the incantations he’d encountered in Eddy’s spellbook thus far had been far too dangerous for him to risk miscasting. Aside from refreshing his memory of the ice spell, his perusal had done little to reveal any tools that might help him find Eddy. It was profoundly discouraging.

“There must be something,” he murmured, unwilling to give up.

The shapes on the latest page formed words in his mind. This spell was a short one. It’s title was simple, if a bit ambiguous.

“Stir the currents… Utter the following words with light focus while gesturing ones hands in the desired direction.” He paused. “This might be safe to cast. Even if it isn’t, I am wasting time here if I don’t try something.”

He buzzed upward, dragging his bubble with him, and glanced down at the shifting shapes below. His lips formed the awkward, unfamiliar wording, and he thrust his arms forward. The effect was subtle, and not immediate. At first he thought the spell had failed entirely. But then he saw that the bubble was rippling forward.

Rustle allowed himself to drop down until all but his head was dipped into the warm water, then repeated the spell. There was no doubt. The water around him moved in the direction he’d waved his arms. It was a tiny motion, barely enough to disturb the bubble or jostle his wings. The size didn’t matter, though. What it helped him realize was the real prize.

The water moved just like the wind did. He wasn’t the best manipulator of wind by any stretch—though he’d improved markedly over the course of the day through sheer necessity. But until this moment he’d never truly been able to link the motion of water to the same flexing of will that allowed him to stir the breeze. Now he had. It was as though someone had lit a candle in a darkened room, and now he could see what had always been there.

He cast it again and felt its motion. This was so like the magics that were a part of him from birth. It was just a matter of this twist of the mind instead of that. And he knew he could navigate by the breeze. He knew he could follow it to the outside, no matter where it led, and feel its presence, even when it was far from him. He cast the spell yet again. In a half-heard whisper, he heard the water begin to tell the same tales.

Again and again he cast the spell. Each time he learned a bit more of how the water differed from air, how to adapt what he knew to what he needed to know. Finally, he set the spell aside and instead attempted to sculpt the water around him not with words, but with the same innate magic that was as natural to him as flying.

It took more will than he imagined should ever be necessary for a spell, but finally he felt a sluggish imitation of the spell’s effects without the spell. The amount of strength he poured into moving the water would have been enough to cause a veritable gale if he’d been directing it to the air, but that didn’t matter in the slightest. What mattered was that, just as Merantia had done with her written language, the sea had just made it’s own voice known to him.

He took a deep breath and let the bubble drift away. His mind became still as he listened to what the currents could tell him. From the wind, he’d already cobbled together an image of much of the cavern, and he knew that there was no connection to the surface. Now a similar, complementary image of the flooded cavern came to mind. It wasn’t yet enough for him to navigate by. He could feel that there was, for now at least, no direct connection between this place and the rest of the sea. And he could feel which of the tunnels around him dug deepest into the earth. He could feel chambers, vast and unexplored, that had been just beyond the reach of his glow as he’d flown about.

There was no clear path to the dull flicker of Eddy’s spirit in the depths beneath, but there were chambers that seemed closer to it. That was enough for him. He launched to the surface and darted toward the largest and deepest of them. It was his best chance to find Eddy.

#

Cul swam along, sweeping his sensitive eyes left and right. The rift that held Eddy’s farm wasn’t very wide, but it was deep enough to be almost devoid of light, even in the middle of the day. He was limited to what light his own personal glow could provide, and thus could only search a small patch of the rift at a time.

He tried to keep himself from being distracted, but the words of his teammates refused to leave his thoughts. They thought he was falling in love with Mira. Absurd! She simply knew more about the surface than anyone she’d met in ages. Why wouldn’t he talk to her? She spoke quite intelligently as well, and seemed to be quite the trader. Weren’t those worthwhile reasons to have a chat? She was quite lovely too. A strapping young merman like him would have been a fool to pass up a chance to spend some time with her just because she was a shore-lover.

His argument was absolutely solid. He knew he was right. He also knew the only things doing a better job at keeping his mind spinning than the implications of his burgeoning feelings for her were his thoughts of her specifically. Her face, her voice.

He shut his eyes for a moment. Infatuation. That’s all this was. Again, entirely natural. She was lovely and interesting. It was infatuation. Entirely different from love. Those two didn’t know what they were talking about.

The circles of distraction shattered as he heard two high pitched chirps of a horn. He shifted his direction toward one of the rift walls. Bult had found something.

Though it took scarcely a minute to reach the source of the trumpet toot, Sitz was already there when Cul arrived. The merman had been busy. The pouches of his outfit were notably more tightly packed than they had been when they’d parted ways. Bult’s own harvest was even less subtle, with the feathery tips of some stolen fronds sticking out of a pouch on his side. He’d also taken the liberty of snatching a few snails to munch on.

“You two are going to get a thump from Trendana when we get back. We weren’t supposed to be robbing this place,” Cul said.

“How is she going to find out, unless you snitch?” Bult said.

“Yes. Or if she has eyes.” Cul batted the bit of improperly stowed frond.

Bult tucked the evidence out of sight. “It’s just a few fronds… Hardly anything…”

“Did you just call us over here to let us know what a lousy thief you are? Or was there more to it?” Sitz asked.

“Just follow me,” Bult muttered.

He swam down to the floor and along the base of the rift. The others stayed close behind. It took a trained eye to see what had convinced him to summon the others. The entire base of the rift was made up of stones that had broken free and tumbled down over the untold centuries. A quick glance would have suggested this stretch of the rift was just more of the same. But the fractures here were fresher, free of the thick growth that clung to everything else. And there were caves as well. Plenty of little shallow caves, some still visible above the mounds of stone. Others were half-obscured by fresh debris. One could only imagine how many others were entirely hidden.

“You called us over here for this?” Sitz said.

“A merman could fit in one of these caves. If he’d been in one when the trembler hit, he might have been trapped.”

“Why would he be in one of those caves?”

Bult shrugged. “He’s a shore-lover. They like little places, right? And look here. This one’s got empty shells in it. Maybe he eats lunch in one of these caves. And he’s got a mine, right? If these things can get buried, a mine can.”

“We’ve got to tell Mira,” Cul said.

“She’s going to make us search all of this and we’re going to end up missing our first shot at a proper chance to trade in weeks,” Sitz objected.

“Someone could be hurt, Sitz,” Cul said sharply.

Bult nodded. “We took her gems. A deal’s a deal. And I’d want someone looking for me if I got trapped.”

“You wouldn’t have got trapped because you’re sensible enough to live your life in the open sea, not cramming yourself into little hollows like an eel…”

“Sitz…” Cul rumbled.

“Fine. But if we miss Casta’s Drift, remember who just had to look around for nothing.”

***Maybe have a bit of a discussion about ownership, as foreshadowing for how this place will be valuable afterward.***

#

“What do dwarves eat?” Eddy asked, rocking his improvised cart up and down as he watched Mab work.

Eddy had thought it would take only a few replacement gears and a few minutes of work to get Borgle up and running again, but Mab had been working for far longer than it would have taken to install them. Considering her evident skill with machinery, he trusted she knew what she was doing. As a bonus, this gave him the opportunity to indulge his curiosity about this fresh resource on the nature of things beyond the sea.

“Mira says people from the surface eat things that grow in the sun and things that eat the things that grow in the sun. We do the same, except also we eat things that grow in the warmth down below where the sun isn’t. You live in caves. Caves are places where the sun isn’t. So what is there to eat?”

Mab looked wearily to him, then leaned back into the open hatch of the digger. When she replied, her voice had the tinny resonance of Borgle’s insides.

“We eat plenty. Mushrooms grow in the mountain. Bats and lizards live in the mountain. We trade for wheat and cabbage and potatoes. And we brew ale.”

She paused and pulled herself from her work for a moment. Her eyes were shut. She seemed lost in a lovely memory.

“Oh… the ale. The mead. Even the rotgut. I can feel it on my lips now. I can feel the nourishing burn as it trickles down my throat…”

“What are these things you are remembering?” Eddy asked.

“You don’t know ale?”

“No.”

“It’s booze.”

Eddy blinked expectantly.

“Don’t you drink? … No, I suppose you don’t.” Mab scratched her head. “How do you drink?”

“Fresh water? It comes from the food we eat… What is booze?”

“It is a beverage. A whole type of beverage. The finest type of beverage. Great, brimming tankards of foamy golden delight. The perfect balance of bitter. Or the harder stuff. Like drinking fire.”

“That sounds like it would be not very much fun.”

“You only think that because you haven’t done it. A little bit of booze eases away the day’s troubles. A little bit more hides the woes of life in a pleasant fog. And a lot more makes it so hard to think you just give up on it and enjoy the night.”

“Oh… oh… This is like pannet.”

“Which is what?”

“Pannet is like a dough. It is made by the mermaids up at the surface. They leave things in the sun to… turn… not good.”

“Ferment.”

“Yes. The spell for talking is weak. But they leave it in the sun for that, and then mix it into dough for serving at festivals. Very pleasant. Except if you eat too much. Then, headaches the day after.”

Mab nodded. “Yes. That’s booze.”

“I would like to try some.”

“I’ve made some from these stalks, but it is barely worth drinking. And if you’ve never had liquor, best not to start with the stuff the dwarfs drink. Talk to some elves. Their stuff is fit for infants.”

“I would very much like to meet an elf! Only I have met merfolk and a fairy and now a dwarf and one time a human very far in a boat who didn’t see me.”

Mab shook her head. “You don’t want to meet elves. I don’t even think elves want to meet elves. I never met an elf who liked anyone else half as much as he liked himself.”

“Always some are bad of a type of person. But always some are good as well,” Eddy said sagely.

“You find me an elf worth half what the worst dwarf is worth and I’ll give you a barrel of the finest ale.”

“I will do this!”

Again she shook her head. “No, you won’t.”

She clicked a final cogwheel into place. Eddy didn’t need to ask if Mab was through. Borgle made it clear. The mechanism rattled and chimed ecstatically, then raised itself up on its many legs. At first it wobbled and teetered with its blunt nose pointing straight up, then it rearranged and curved a few legs to angle itself to face the others.

“You did it, Mab! You are very much good at fixing!” Eddy crowed.

Mab mopped some sweat from her forehead. “Now to see what good it will do. Can we use this thing to get out of here?”

“We can! Borgle will help us because he is a helper in our adventure! All we need to do is know what it is Borgle should help us by doing. When I ask him to dig, he digs down, and down is not where we need to go.”

“This is why you don’t use magic to give a machine a mind. A hammer doesn’t disobey.”

As they spoke, Borgle rolled itself from leg to leg until its two operational eyes were on the bottom of the ring, putting it in a much better position to look Mab over. The merry ticking melody of its workings gradually became harsher. The points of light in its eyes darted about, focusing on various bits Mab’s equipment. One of its pincer-tipped legs curved forward and poked at the gearhead hatchet on Mab’s belt. Borgle gave an accusing whir and gestured with the same pointer to the open hatch on its side.

“What’s this about?” Mab asked irritably.

“I think… Oh, I see. If I may speak to Borgle in my native tongue? It is the language Borgle knows. I think.”

“Do what you must. But I don’t like how that thing is looking at me.”

Eddy cleared his throat and looked to the mechanism.

“Do you think he stole some of your parts?”

Borgle chimed an affirmative.

“It is not so. Do not worry. There are other diggers all about. They fell in here like we did, and all are very broken. Much more broken than you. These parts he has utilized as part of his equipment are from other diggers, not you. Mab is a friend. She is here to help us, and we are here to help her.”

Borgle looked doubtfully to Mab. It reached down with a claw and shut its open panel with a slow, deliberate click. The distrustful look lingered for a few moments more before Borgle turned and looked to Eddy, awaiting orders.

“We will tell you what to do as soon as we determine just what it is we should do. But listen to me very carefully. Do not dig down.”

Borgle chimed happily and drove all of his legs deep into the stone angling himself downward.

“No, no, no!” Eddy scolded.

He flopped from his cart and slid between Borgle and the ground. The mechanism came to an abrupt stop rather than bash into Eddy. It gave an inquisitive whir and backed away.

“You can do that later. But right now down is not where we need to go. At least, I don’t believe so. Can you wait? Can you dig downward later? After we get out?”

Borgle chimed and settled down. It kept its eyes focused on Eddy.

“Is that thing through trying to escape then?” Mab asked.

“I think it is,” Eddy said, slipping back into his broken enchantment. “I wonder why it is that Borgle wants always to dig down.”

“Plenty of reasons to dig down. Deeper down is harder to reach, so fewer people have been there. Fewer people having been there means if there’s anything good, it’s still there. Some things you don’t even find unless you dig down good and far. I wouldn’t advise digging down too much further here though.”

“Why?”

“Those quakes feel like they are coming from somewhere close.” Mab ground at the stone beneath them with her boot. “And this stone doesn’t show up unless there is magma nearby.”

“What is this, magma?”

“It is stone so hot it is molten.”

Eddy’s eyes widened. “Glowing pools… I knew it! There are glowing pools near here. I have said, many times, the good hot water must come from something like glowing pools. And there is a lot of good hot water in the rift. So that means there must be glowing pools somewhere.”

“I wouldn’t be excited. We’ve got plenty of stories back in the mountains where I grew up about dwarves who dug too deep. Once magma starts flowing it is hard to stop. A few hundred too many pick-blows near a magma chamber leads to a few million to chisel out what’s left of a mine after the magma flows through.”

“But glowing pools are important for us! There are only a few, and that is where the metal is made.”

Mab scratched her head. “You mean you use magma for smelting?”

“Maybe this is what we do? I do not know the words, it is not a thing I do. But tools, things made of metal and not stone, come from people with glowing pools near. And there are no glowing pools near barnacle. We could use some.” He scratched his head. “But I should not be talking about things like that. First we leave this place, then we talk about the exciting parts.”

“Agreed.”

“Borgle, perhaps you can answer this. Are you heading for the glowing pools? The magma?” Eddy asked.

Borgle paused, then released first a knock, then a chime.

Eddy frowned. “I know the knock means no. And the chime means yes. So… No and yes?”

Borgle chimed.

“First you aren’t, and then you are?”

The digger chimed much more enthusiastically.

“Splendid!”

“What’s all this gibberish?” Mab asked.

“Borgle was digging for the glowing pools.”

“… Then maybe we shouldn’t have fixed it up. Things are bad enough here already without a harebrained thinking-machine trying to dig a magma well.”

“No, it is good. It is a thing we learned. Always it is better to know than to not know. And we know that it is heading somewhere else first! Maybe we can learn that. Maybe that is a thing that will help us. Let me talk some more.”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t you get it to do what we say so we can get out of here regardless of what it wants to do. It shouldn’t want to do anything.”

“Do we know what we can do to escape?”

“Do we… what do you think I’ve been working on since I got here!?”

“You have a way out?”

“I have a plan for a way out. I just haven’t been able to do anything about it because I’m too old and used up to do it myself.”

“What do you want to do?”

Mab revealed her spyglass and held it up.

“Look, there. Near the edge of that crust of growth on the ceiling.”

Eddy turned the looking glass about in his hands, then held it up to his eye.

“This… This is for seeing far!” he said excitedly. “Mira says there are things like this that the sailors have!”

“Try to focus, Eddy,” Mab said. “It’s not the spyglass I’m trying to show you. Do you see that dim spot?”

“Where it does not glow much?”

“Yes. That’s what dim means.”

“I do.”

“I’ve paid attention to the way that stuff acts. Where there’s water, it glows bright. Where there’s stone, it has sort of a medium glow. When it’s dim like that? That’s when its got air behind it. There’s a tunnel behind there. And it’s the same direction I came from. All we need to do is dig through it and we’re out of here. I guarantee you, with a machine that can dig, I can find my way back to dwarf tunnels. I would have been through it years ago, but the stuff grows so fast I can’t dig through it.”

“That is very good for you. Not good for me. I do not need to get to dwarf tunnels. I need to get to the sea.”

“Not everything is about you. But if you’d been listening to how I got here, you’d know that most of those tunnels are flooded. The water had to come from somewhere.”

Eddy considered this.

“It is still not good. My friend Rustle is looking for me. If I go to the tunnels and then to the sea, how will he find me? How will I find him?”

“I couldn’t care less. I’ve been trapped here for longer than I can count. I just want to get out!”

“Yes… maybe this is the part of the adventure where I help the one who helped me…” Eddy nodded. “We go. But when you are on your way, I come back. There is more to explore here, and this is where Rustle will find me.”

“I’ve been all around this place. There’s nothing worth seeing except…”

Mab flinched, evidently realizing a word too late that it might not be the best course of action to suggest there is something interesting in the cavern.

“Is there something amazing here? More amazing than the glowing and the stalks and the lobstery tasty things?”

“No. Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Show me to this interesting place, Mab! Show me and I will ask Borgle to dig you to wherever you want to dig!”

“It is nothing! Just a statue of a mermaid holding a hammer.”

“A statue of one of the right hands of Tria!” Eddy cried. “You show me! You show me now! Please, please!”

“It’s a long way from here, and my legs aren’t what they were.”

“Borgle, please give our dwarf friend a lift and go where he leads. There is something interesting to see.”

Borgle chimed happily and grasped Mab with one pincer, hefting her up and dropping her astride its back.

“What is this! Get me down, you foolish contraption!”

“Now you don’t have to walk, Mab! Show us to the statue please, and then we dig where you want to dig!”

Mab made some faces and furious gestures, but ultimately sagged in defeat.

“Very well. This way. At least we can make it quick… It will take us past my home. I could use a drink.”

“Forward, Borgle!” Eddy proclaimed. “To the next discovery!”

The digger, moving rather gracelessly along on its many tentacle-like legs, thumped along the ground with a dwarf atop it and a merman in tow.

[kiraririn]

Common Route: Scene 1 - Underworld Briefing, 1972 words

I posted this before, but I fixed and changed some things

[next]

Scene 1C – Underworld Briefing

INSIDE HOUSE

While tossing and turning in bed, as I try to get a more sufficient amount of rest with difficulty, a loud knock on the door rudely interrupts. I sandwich my head with pillows and stay in bed, hoping that the knocks go away, but whoever is at the door greatly persists.

With an exasperated sigh, I drag my feet toward the door across the room. When I open the door, my close friend Cornelius greets me with his usual carefree smile, a small burlap sack in his hands.

Carefree co “Morning, Claudius!”

I can’t say I’m terribly happy to see him. I let out a groan before responding.

Sleepy mc “Don’t you know what time it is, Cornelius?”

Carefree co “Only a couple of hours or so before the exam, if I remember correctly.”

At this point, my annoyance rouses me into a state of wakefulness.

Cold mc “Only a couple of hours? That was an extra hour of sleep you robbed from me.”

With a single finger raised, he smugly objects.

Smug co “Now, let’s not fool ourselves here, Claudius. We both know that would have been an unproductive hour of thrashing about with little amount of proper rest gained”

Though I felt the temptation to slam the door in his face, I knew full well I wasn’t going to be getting anymore rest anyway, now that I’m fully awake, so I begrudgingly step aside to let Cornelius in as always.

I extend my hand toward a seat at a small table, and Cornelius takes a seat and makes himself at home.

Thoughtful mc “(It might as well be his home, judging from the amount of time he spends here.)”

A yawn escapes from my mouth when I take a seat across from him, and he yawns as well. The contagious yawn must have been a source of amusement, as he lets out a short laugh.

Sleepy mc “(I wonder if he’s well-rested.)”

Cornelius grabs some foodstuff; cheese, bread, an apple, and a container of braised cave mushrooms out of his bag.

This may seem hardly much from the perspective of a surface dweller, but it’s quite a catch in the cavernous Underworld.

Cornelius gets me rare food, largely unavailable to someone of our social status, from time to time. I’m curious as to how he manages to acquire these items, but deep down I know I may not like the answer. He might decline to tell anyway for all I know.

I set my previous thoughts aside and focus on what is in front of me. The sight of good food dissipates my feelings of vexation and coaxes me into politeness.

Joyful mc “Thank you as always, Cornelius!”

Cornelius chuckles pleasantly.

Joyful co “Anything for a friend.”

I dig in, eating the cheese along with the bread, and chowing down the mushrooms afterwards, making an effort to give myself time to appreciate the delicious taste. As I finally start to eat the apple, I question him.

Solemn mc “Now why are you here?”

It’s not that I feel that he has ulterior motives of the unscrupulous kind, but he has a mysterious way of showing up at pivotal moments of my life, often with some kind of solution.

Carefree co “Is it so bad to want to see off my friend before he starts his grand, life changing journey?”

Smug co “And treat him to some good food while I’m at it?”

Solemn mc “Well, no, but I have a feeling that’s not the only reason why you’re here.”

Carefree co “True, true. I came here to give you this.”

[SHOW ORB]

Cornelius digs into his bag once again and produces a mysterious, opaque blue orb about the size of a marble.

He extends the orb to me with his palm up and speaks in a faux upper class tone.

Joyful co “For your journey, sir.”

I finish my apple and put the remaining core aside.

Thoughtful mc “…”

A frown forms on my face as I focus on the object. The orb is what is called a magic marble. They contain magic that can be unleashed by crushing it, generally thrown at a hard surface. I don’t know what this orb can accomplish, but the color suggests that it’s from the school of manipulation, out of the four schools of manipulation, manifestation, divination, and flight.

I raise an eyebrow.

mc “A magic marble of some purpose?”

co “Correct!”

mc “I can’t take this. If they find it on me I’ll surely fail the exam. No magical items, remember?”

[HIDE ORB]

Carefree co “Then don’t get caught. Have I ever been wrong?”

I confide in my problems with Cornelius often, and he is absolutely right so often to the point of it becoming uncanny.

Noticing that he didn’t even make an attempt to tell me what it does, I come to the conclusion that it is some kind of contraband. The lower class masses are only allowed to own magic marbles of trivial effect.

Solemn mc “I can’t.”

Cold mc “I’m sorry but it’s principle. You know I’m not one to break rules.”

Cornelius smiles wryly and replies with utmost sincerity.

Wry co “You’re right. I’m sorry I even asked.”

Worry co “It’s just- I’m worried. It’s a dangerous place out there. Anything can happen.”

A twinge of irritation ripples within me. I don’t want to be told such a thing from someone who has never been outside in the surface world either.

co “You haven’t even developed your intuition yet. You’re at such a disadvantage.”

His words make my blood boil.

Intuition is every subterrestrial’s sixth sense. Every subterrestrial but me. Being labelled as a late bloomer is such an embarrassment. I’m an adult lacking what every teen has. It makes me feel that I’ve long fallen behind.

I’ve started to cope with such a terrible fact, but it still stings to be put down in such a way, especially by my only friend who should be plentifully aware of my feelings on this. I can’t help but lash out.

Anger mc “I know that! Why do you think I’ve been studying all these years for? I’ve read tomes upon tomes. Unlike some carefree imp here.”

Furious mc “I know plenty about surface affairs.”

co “And what if that’s not enough?”

Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.

Furious mc “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome. You disturb my sleep, and now you’re belittling me. It’s about time you leave.”

I point at the door and make my point final.

Worry co “…”

He leaves quietly, leaving the magic marble behind, and makes one last glance before shutting the door with care.

And now there is silence.

I let out a deep sigh and begin preparations for my exam.

Cold mc “(I’ll show them all. I’ll pass the caste exam. I’ll prove my worth to the State. Today marks the last day of my dreary life as a mere commoner.)”

Time quickly passes and I eventually simmer down.

I’ve gotten my things together. Clothes and not much else since I am to receive other provisions from the instructor.

Before I leave, I glance at the orb. Self-doubt causes me to briefly consider.

The moment doesn’t last for long, and I chuckle bitterly.

Wry mc “(Of course not.)”

I finally leave my pitiful dwelling, and the cool, dimly lit Underworld greets me.

UNDERWORLD

I walk at a brisk pace and think back to the events that took place earlier.

I feel guilty for blowing up. He really was trying to help and his worries were legitimate. I’m really not capable in the magical and intuitive sense.

The incubus caste I belong to isn’t necessarily bad. The more powerful ones do important work, skillfully manipulating those they’ve charmed. The problem is I barely qualify.

My aptitude test scores are deplorable, and I don’t even have the intuition to make up for it. It’s all a total mess.

The silver lining behind all this is that mind manipulation is half talent, half theory, and I’ve studied a lot. I wouldn’t say I know to the point of it being second nature, but I think it’s still a lot.

Either way, I truly hope it’s all enough for me to pass the caste exam. The exam is specifically tailored to test my skills as an incubus, and if I prove myself I’ll climb the ranks and enjoy more freedom, including better amenities. Like the delicious apple I had earlier. I can’t have enough of those.

More freedom. Better food. Better lodging. What’s not to like?

Well, aside for more responsibilities. It’s a given, though.

Wry Mc “(But whatever it is, it’s probably better than menial labor.)”

UNDERWORLD CLEARING

Before I know it, I arrive at my destination and make an unconscious sigh to ease the tension tugging deep within me.

Before long an unpleasant, familiar voice calls out to me.

Neutral in “Well look who’s here. It’s Mr. Magia. You know Mr. Magia, it’s not good to sigh all the time.”

Flustered mc “(I wish I had a different instructor.)”

His air of superiority has been a source of displeasure for some time, because of my lack of magical growth, no doubt.

I don’t get along with him at all, but I try to respond politely the best I can, after making an effort to create a false smile. He is of a higher status after all.

Wry mc “Sorry, sir.”

Neutral in “Try to keep that in mind.” in “Anyway, let’s not waste time and get started with the procedures.”

I nod as he grabs a divination rod, likely used to detect magic, and makes vertical sweeping motions around me. Of course, there is no reaction. The instructor nods to himself and puts the rod away.

With a clipboard in hand, he begins to quickly read off of it without raising his head to look at me a single time.

Looking in “Today marks the beginning of your caste exam.” in “You are responsible for captivating an individual and bringing him or her back to our Underworld in a state suited for the agent program, which will be the second part of your test.” in “You have five days to finish this task in whatever manner you see fit, so long as you keep your mission and identity as an Underworld citizen hidden from the surface dwellers. Do you understand?”

I can do it.

Solemn mc “Aye.”

Neutral in “Do you, Claudius Magia of caste incubus, agree to take upon this task and the responsibilities associated with it and prove your worth to the State?”

Solemn mc “Aye, sir.”

Neutral in “Now before you leave…”

He trails off and procures a red orb from his pocket, tossing it in his hand a few times.

In “Do stand still.”

Immediately after the command, he throws the magic marble at my feet, and it shatters.

I don’t feel any different.

In “There we go. A simple shapeshifting marble to disguise yourself as human. We can’t have you walking around the surface world with those pointy ears and horns. I’d offer a mirror, alas but I have none.”

The instructor gestures toward a lone rucksack placed on the ground.

Neutral in “Lastly, you are allowed to take a provisional sack. It contains rations, water, a knife, a map, a compass, written instructions, a sealed letter to your proctor, and some surface world currency.”

I take the sack, slinging it over my shoulder.

In “And now you may leave.”

As I leave, he speaks up one last time with the tip of his hat.

Neutral in “May you have a successful journey.”

I look back and return a nod before continuing.

[shipbuildings]

WE ALL HAVE STORIES TO TELL.

But this much I'm certain of: it doesn't happen immediately. You'll finish reading and that will be that, until a moment will come, maybe in a month, maybe a year, maybe even several years. And out of the blue, beyond any cause you can trace, you'll suddenly realize things are not how you perceived them to be at all. For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. But you won't understand why or how. You'll have forgotten what granted you this awareness in the first place.

Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. And then for better or worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name. And then the nightmares will begin.

This is not for you.

Six years ago, a class of fifty walked into a forest in BC. A group of university freshmen much like any other; there were the prerequisite jocks, cheerleaders, loners, partiers, technology junkies, etc. etc. Every cliché one could possibly imagine was represented in this group. Ecology 123, after all, was a gen. ed. So its student population was rather varied.

As they often are.

But the point is as follows: out of the fifty that entered that forest during that fateful summer, only three walked out alive. As for what happened in-between – well. That is a bit of a subject of debate.

Again. As they often are.

The official story of what happened is this; some of these students found a rather large patch of Psilocybe semilanceata. Use of these so-called ‘ magic mushrooms ’ quickly spread throughout the group. And under the influence, a student ran off a cliff. Which proceeded to happen forty-six more times. Question further and you’ll get vague references to the Mumbai ‘ sweet ‘ seawater incident, the Tanganyika laughter epidemic, and the Dancing plague of 1518. A horrible tragedy, said the University. Or so I would like to think. There were settlements. Non-disclosure agreements. Each family was well compensated.

Including my own, in case you were wondering.

But what really happened is slightly more … disturbing. And possibly the reason why that official account is so laughable, but never challenged. Sometimes the truth is simply much too terrible -- terrible to the point that a lie may seem like a kindness in comparison. In that way, those who lost their lives are immortalized; now martyrs, now victims, pretty little packages wrapped up in a name, their sins buried along with them and long forgotten by the living left behind. 

As I’ve said before. 

The story with the animals is always the better story.

But those words aren’t mine. They don’t belong to me. That observation was made by another -- a long, long time ago, much before I had realized that there was never a tiger hunting us down, picking us off, and there never had been.

His name, in case you were wondering, is Richard Battle. He lives in Toronto with his boyfriend, Elliott Broodmoor, and bartends at some needlessly trendy restaurant chain mid-town. They are some of the only survivors. And we haven’t spoken since I left them for dead and joined an Organization populated almost exclusively by psychopaths to save my own skin.

It’s a long story.

But I digress. If I wanted to speak with Richard to find out what he knew and when he knew it, I realized I’d have to confront him face-to-face. He wouldn’t take my calls, after all. Or answer my increasingly desperate emails.

So that’s how I found myself at 1090 Don Mills Road, drinking some ‘ Artisan ’ craft beer that was probably cut with Budweiser behind the counter.

* * * 

It’s a quiet night, the bar mostly populated by people pecking away at smartphones and laptops, noses buried in the blue-grey light of whatever so happened to be currently catching their interest. As for me, I kept my book bag slung over my shoulder and my notebooks packed, making sure I had a clear sight-line to the nearest exit... and a clear footpath. I may have been desperate for answers, but that doesn’t mean I was stupid. Or no more stupid than usual, anyways.

“Mmm, drinking alone, huh? Did your date stand you up?”

When I turn to face him, the glass he’s cleaning slips out of his hands and shatters on the faux-marble tiles.

Nobody so much as flinches. But the look on his face... well. It probably shouldn’t be graced with a description for both our sakes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just got caught off guard, is all. Can you sweep that up? I’m going out for a smoke.”

He shimmies out from behind the bar and I silently stand, downing the rest of my pint and the shot belonging to the distracted businesswoman sitting beside me, slapping a fifty on the countertop before I finally follow.

Not my finest moment, I know. But in my defence, I was reasonably sure he was going to punch me.

Since it’s summer, the sun hasn’t set quite yet despite the fact that it must be just past nine pm. Children play in the park across the street, their parents eating overpriced gelato from stale waffle cones as they watch their charges splash through fountains and dart about on fresh-cut grass. Richard stiffens as I stand beside him, a cigarette perched between his deft, nimble fingers, work apron slung over his shoulder.

“You smoke yet, Philososhit?”

I nod, no, as he watches me from the corner of his eye.

“Damn shame. Maybe it would help keep your mouth occupied, instead of it spewing all the garbage it normally does.”

His expression is humourless as if he is a man walking to his own execution.

“Hello to you too.” I reply quietly, keeping my voice low. “Glad to see not much has changed since we last spoke.”

“We still wouldn’t be speaking if it was up to me.”

“As I’m well aware, but I couldn’t just let this go. And I think you understand why, despite how much you despise me.”

There’s a lull for a time -- me, wishing I was unaware of the gravity of what is taking place right now, and him, mouth drawn in a thin, grim line.

“You shouldn’t’ve come here.” He finally says. “No good comes from chasing ghosts, bookman. You should know that by now.”

“And yet you’re here, alive and well. Unless I’m mistaken, and we’re somehow conversing from beyond the grave.”

That manages to illicit a slight upwards turn of his lips.

“A joke? That’s pretty unlike you.”

“And the domestic life isn’t unlike you? The Richard Battle I knew was obsessed with heroics, and I can scarcely recall a time when you didn’t have your switchblade in your hand.”

He snorts dismissively.

“One: don’t you know it’s the tragic hero that always dies in the end? And two: the whole knife-nut thing kind of came with the territory of being trapped in a living nightmare with a bunch of psychos formerly known as my friends.”

“So are you saying that the Richard I knew is effectively gone?”

“All that shit went down years ago. Even if it hadn’t happened, he’d be gone anyways, just like how your dramatic evil alter-ego --”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.”

I groan, burying my head in my hands, and he laughs, smiles.

It looks good on him.

“Okay, okay, I think I’ve put you through the wringer enough. So, what brings you to my neck of the... town?”

Nice save. He taps ash from the rapidly advancing line of glowing embers, watching them, his shoes, the passing cars being parked by the valet... anything but me. But now that I finally have his attention, I’m not quite sure what to say. Countless questions rise and die in my throat within the period of a second, then two, tasting of bile and hops.

“I wanted...” I start, then stop, quite possibly speechless for the first time in forever. He doesn’t interrupt, though, and eventually I finally manage to speak of the unspeakable.

“Richard... how did you know? How did you know that what we were seeing, what we thought was happening, it wasn’t --”

“Real?”

He laughs again, but this time the sound is bitter. He grinds his cigarette into the pavement with the heel of his sneaker with more than a hint of prejudice.

“You’re littering.”

“I know.”

It is his silence, not his answer that speaks volumes. The way his gaze looks through me, but doesn't really see me, the way he suddenly seems to be very, very far away tells me everything without him having to say a single word.

Sometimes the truth is simply much too terrible 

“...if you really gotta know? We were all starving, dehydrated, half out of our minds with grief and god knows what else.”

Terrible to the point

“I didn’t know what I was saying. Just like you didn’t know what you were doing.”

That a lie

“Sorry you came all this way to not find what you were looking for.”

May seem like a kindness in comparison

“... I suppose some mysteries are best left unsolved.”

As per usual, Mr. Battle can be read as easily as Dr. Seuss; he can’t hide the relief that washes over him, relaxing the tension in shoulders. But now I know, just like he knows. And he was right.

I really wish I didn’t.

This is his revenge, I suppose. Any sort of violent retribution he could direct towards me would have accomplished nothing. No one would mourn me. In fact, it’s doubtful anyone would even notice I was gone. Perhaps after a few weeks of no word my colleagues would finally send someone to look for me -- the police only called when the door of my apartment seemed to be holding back the scent of petrichor and rot and pennies. And my death, I imagine, would be ruled a suicide, a result of long-repressed trauma that I spoke of sparingly. Such a shame, would say my professors, my peers, and under their breath they would mutter good riddance. But that sort of ending would be too good for me. No, what Richard will instead kill me with is the little-death, the death that brings total destruction. It is the death that comes not from knowing too much, but rather that comes from knowing just enough to make you wonder.

It is the echoed question: what more could I have done?

It is the echoed question: why didn’t I save them?

It is nothing I don’t deserve, and it is nothing I would ever blame him for. This is how a life is taken; slowly, gently, deliberately, with feeling. And this is how justice is served when your crimes go unpunished: an eye for an eye for an eye.

Richard looks at me oddly, and it takes me a moment to realize that I’m smiling.

“You okay, Walt?”

It’s the first time he’s called me that since I left him for dead, and I didn’t realize until now how much I missed it.

“... no, I’m not. But I think you will be, one day. If you aren’t halfway there already.”

“Huh. I guess some things don’t change, ‘cause you’re right on the money. I mean, as always.”

He reaches into his pants pocket and holds up something at my eye level, a small black box nestled in his palm. I stare, and after an awkwardly long moment he finally opens it.

It’s a ring. Simple, honest. For all I know it could be platinum, white gold, silver, steel. But I have a feeling that’s not what matters.

“I figured Elliott would call me a sap if I got anything more, uh, complicated. Plus, all my tips can only really get me so far...”

“He’ll love it,” I reply without hesitation. “In his own typical Broodmoor way. Expect teasing of only the half-good natured sort.”

“Wouldn’t count on anything else.” He snaps the box shut, the clack emitting an air of uneasy finality. “Maybe we’ll even make it official one day; file with a justice of the peace or somethin’. I’d invite you to witness, but. You know.”

He shrugs noncommittally as I shuffle from one foot to the other, shifting my weight in an attempt to make my focus follow.

“No, I...” I sigh, frustrated by my two word strong vocabulary. “I understand. I never expected to be forgiven --”

“Ding-dong, you are wrong. Guess there’s a first time for everything.” Richard looks at me from his sidelined gaze, eyes moving over me from head to toe. “It’s not that we can’t forgive you, or that we haven’t. We were kids, you included, and we all made choices we’re not proud of. But we can’t keep looking back like you do, like you have to...”

His voice goes low, an accusation almost as much as a confession.

“The way you are now, after everything... you probably would’ve been better off dead.”

A small semi-circle of dark grey appears on the pavement. Then another. Then another. 

“... Yes, I believe so.” I answer, staring bleakly at the sky. Droplets gather on the lenses of my glasses, leaving wet trails where they existed once, and have existed, but do not exist anymore.

We stand there, alone together, lost in reverie, or perhaps just watching the world pass us by as if nothing has happened.

“I should get back to the bar.” Richard finally speaks, voice level and quiet. I try to memorize every dip, every peak and valley with what amounts to reverent worship, but I’ll likely soon forget them just as I did once before.

Life is very long.

“Ah, I see. Well, it was a pleasure, Richard, even if you can’t say the feeling was mutual.”

He stops, pausing. For a moment I think he’s going to hug me, and I almost recoil in revulsion.

But instead he slugs me right in the face, a perfect right hook that I would’ve never saw coming even if I had been prepared for it. Which I wasn’t. 

Obviously.

“Yeah, it was.” He says with a grin, knuckles raw and cracked and bleeding. “Take care of yourself, Walter. You owe it to them to do that at least.”

And that’s how he left me; sprawled on the pavement, glasses askew, nose bloody, a nasty shade of purple and sickly yellow-green blooming on my skin.

* * *

I suppose now you’re wondering -- why did I write this?

Telling you this story accomplishes nothing. I accomplished nothing. The only thing I learned was something I already knew. But perhaps that is what I needed all along. Perhaps I needed to share it with you, too. And while I know it is exceedingly unlikely that anyone will read this -- and even more exceedingly unlikely that you will understand it -- ultimately, we do not write for the sake of others. We do not write because we expect it to be read. The very act of putting words on a page is akin to shouting in a canyon; the only thing you hear back is your own echo. But that does not mean you can fight the compulsion forever.

Writing about writing only ever happens in the epilogue.

I know, however, that there are no happy endings. There will be no marvellous, touching reunion where the past six years are revealed to have been an elaborate hoax, no cathartic cry-session where my soul is magically cleansed. As time passes, I have grown no stronger, no wiser, no better than I was when part of me was cleaved from myself. I will have to bear the scars forever. And I will have to carry the weight of what i’ve done with me until I die.

So I ask myself: Did I do any good? That question, it seems, comes up a fair deal. It follows me endlessly, the Shadow casted over my every action.

But maybe I’m mistaken. Maybe what I’m really asking myself is: Did I do enough? 

And my answer, of course

is a quiet 

resounding 

no.

[kieranoruadhain]

💊

5. “Let me look after you.”Wonderland AUA new Alice fell into Wonderland not long ago, and this was the fourth time Serjei had seen him. It was usually from a distance, watching him sit alone on a park bench, wander the Underground, or pick up trash off the street. It occurred to Serjei that evening that the man probably hadn’t found a place to live yet. He didn’t even know the Alice’s name, but he found himself wondering how he was doing every time he caught sight of him. He recalled their first meeting well. The skinny, one-eyed little guy had accidentally trampled through a mushroom patch he had been working hard at cultivating. It was frustrating at the time, but Serjei didn’t blame him. He was disoriented and confused, and the sight of Serjei’s coiled-up caterpillar half probably didn’t help matters. He had apologized profusely when he realized the destruction he caused, and Serjei casually dismissed it before giving him a quick introduction to Wonderland Park. “You’re an Alice,” he had explained, “which means you’ve somehow found your way here, like everybody else. And now you’re stuck, like everybody else. You can’t go through the Fog around the border, or you’ll die. As you can see, Wonderland was an amusement park. But it’s all broken-down. We’ve learned to make a home of it, though. Off that way is the Castle. The Red Court controls the park. And if you piss off the Red Queen, you might get cursed.” He wiggled his caterpillar butt. “And turned into an animal. But other than that, Wonderland isn’t so bad. Ask around, you can probably find a job.”He wasn’t sure if the guy had taken his advice or not. Since that day, he’s only really seen the skinny Alice loitering and looking miserable. 

Serjei’s fuzzy, golden caterpillar half waddled up to the park bench where the dark-haired Alice was resting. The human half of his upper body loomed over the back of the bench. Two pairs of olive-skinned arms folded over it and he looked down at the man.  “Oh, hello again.” The little guy muttered, tilting his head back and looking at Serjei. He looked tired and greasy and he obviously hadn’t had a shower in a while. Or a shave. Serjei wrinkled his nose a little.“Found a job yet?” Serjei asked, tapping his manicured nails on the backrest of the bench.“No.” The Alice slumped. “I can probably hook you up with something. What’s your name, by the way? I’m Serjei.”“Khyran.”“Alright, Khyran. You want to get supper with me? I got some ideas for who might need some help around the place.”“Um… thanks, but, I don’t have any money.”“I’ll buy, it’s no trouble.”“You don��t have to do that.”“I insist.” Serjei gave Khyran’s back a pat. “Come on. There’s a seafood place just up ahead.”

Supper revealed a lot about this poor Alice, and it was mostly in the things he did, and not the things he said. He ordered the cheapest thing on the menu and picked at his food. He sat so stiff in the chair it was as if he thought the back was made of needles. He kept his head bowed almost the entire time, so that his long hair draped over his face and Serjei had a hard time ever catching his eye. It was as if he was ashamed of even existing. It annoyed Serjei, but something about it also struck him as unfortunately genuine.If Serjei pitched ideas of a dignified job, Khyran just shook his head about it. Eventually Serjei offered the idea of being a park janitor, which Khyran agreed to. It’d involve picking up trash, cleaning windows, sweeping and washing streets and sidewalks, which was a lot of physical labor that Serjei wasn’t even sure the scrawny guy could even do on his own, but Khyran didn’t argue about it. With a sigh, Serjei explained to him who he needed to talk to for the job. He paid the meager bill and sent Khyran on his way, after enduring a slew of “thank you”s and “I’m sorry for the trouble”s.Watching the man’s retreating back, Serjei began to wonder if he should’ve offered more than just a job.A few more days passed. Serjei saw Khyran making rounds on the streets, pushing along a stained yellow plastic bin with soapy water and cleaning supplies. He was glad to see that Khyran got the job, but he still wasn’t entirely sure where the man slept. It wasn’t out on a public park bench, so maybe he had found a place to stay after all. Serjei tried to push the concern for the fellow out of his mind.One evening, he was in the Underground, selling some of his “special” shrooms in the corner of an alley. He was just handing over a small box of his goods when he saw Khyran out of the corner of his eye, huddled in the shadows near some tin trash cans, looking dazed. Serjei quickly finished his business and edged over to the other side of the alley, leaning down to get a closer look at the janitor.He was sitting on a cardboard box with a ratty blanket and some unopened canned goods. His head was tilted back against a brick wall. His eye was open and seeing nothing. Serjei’s pulse quickened. Without asking permission, he reached down and rolled up Khyran’s sleeves. He was met with no resistance and the man didn’t even look at him.Bruised veins bulged in the man’s bony arm. “Alright, Khyran. I’m all for a good smoke and some shrooms, but this… this can get you killed.” Serjei hissed, knowing full well the man couldn’t even hear him. “Come on. I’m not leaving you here tonight.”    His four arms reached down and picked the man up off his cardboard bed. He was shockingly light- Serjei felt he could likely carry him all the way to his flat without needing to stop and ask for help. Testing the man’s weight in his arms, he backed out of the alley and headed on his way out of the Underground.He took the man to his home, which wasn’t too far away, and padded out his couch with plenty of sheets. The guy needed a shower something fierce. Now, all he could do was wait for the drug to wear off. Serjei went to get himself something hard to drink and turned on the TV to pop in an old VHS. He was an hour into the movie when he heard his houseguest stirring on the couch.Serjei waddled over to him and quickly saw how pale and uncomfortable the man looked. He frowned. “You alright?”“Where…?” Khyran choked.“My place.” Serjei answered, folding a pair of arms, the other pair on his hips. “So what’d you do? Cocaine? Heroin?”“Heroin.”Serjei cursed. “Look, if you wanna get high, there are better ways. I grow shrooms. The good stuff.” Khyran squirmed a little and didn’t say anything. He looked a little sick, so Serjei left him alone and went off to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. He  considered this situation he was in. On the one hand, he was a little frustrated. There were plenty of addicts in Wonderland and Serjei didn’t bother taking them all to his home when he saw them. So what was it about Khyran that was different? For all he knew, Khy would just steal all his shrooms in the middle of the night and hit the road. Problem with that was, Wonderland didn’t exactly leave him with many options to run off to. The Fog surrounded the park on all sides. There was no escaping it. So Serjei doubted he would just steal all his stuff and run off. No, this man was genuinely in need of help. And it was for that reason that he endured this smelly, crooked-toothed, big-nosed, sick, greasy little man. Serjei handed the glass of water to his guest and Khyran drank deeply. Serjei gave his back a little pat and waddled off to a closet nearby. “I’m gonna get you a change of clothes. The shower is over there. Go wash up and I’ll change the sheets. I’ll get you a banana and some toast. Don’t worry about missing work, I’ll call Mr. Roderick and tell him you’re sick.”   Khy looked miserably over at Jei, his shoulders visibly shaking. “S-sorry…”Jei waved him off. “You can apologize by taking a shower. You stink.” Dipping into the closet, he started going through his old clothes. He hadn’t worn any of them since he lost his legs. Most of them looked to be just a little too big for Khyran, or a little too feminine. But he found a dumpy pair of sweatpants and a plain grey shirt that he never wore even as a human. He then picked up a pair of boxers. “How do you feel about wearing somebody else’s underwear?” He called from the closet. “It’s clean, obviously, but I figured I’d ask.”“Mmnh.” Khyran sounded a little uneasy. “It’s… it’s whatever.”Jei took down a clean towel and took the clothes to the bathroom. He helped the shaky little guy off the couch and led him towards the shower.“Can you manage without falling over? I don’t wanna clean up your cracked skull off the floor.”“Y-yeah, I’m fine.”Serjei backed out of the bathroom and shut the door. He heard the shower running moments later. He stripped the sheets on the couch, replaced them with fresh ones, and went back to his chaise to watch TV. Ten minutes later, Khyran stepped out of the bathroom, wearing the dumpy grey clothes. When he sat down on the couch, Serjei went to make him a plate of toast and sliced bananas. He only ate a few bites before he curled up on the couch, rubbing his injured arms.Serjei left him to his own devices, wandering off to find something to read. When the evening stretched on to eleven o’clock, Serjei was on his way to bed when he passed by the couch, checking on his guest. He realized he had forgotten to give him a blanket. He retrieved one from the closet and gently draped it over the skinny man. He stepped back a little, watching his sleeping guest, and feeling a pang in his heart. He didn’t know what it was about Khyran that made him feel this way. There was something almost endearing about all his imperfections, but that wasn’t it.Perhaps it was because he reminded him of Shade.  

[itsclydebitches]

Summary:

Just days after Balem returned to his adult self, Jupiter is thrown head-first into another adventure - one she, frankly, really doesn’t have the energy for. But when has the universe ever taken her desires into account? Mysteries, promises, and desperate moves forward; bees, splices, and awkward family dinners. It’s enough to make even her seasoned head spin.

…which doesn’t even include the chance to play at ‘Mother’ once more. Only question is: will Jupiter take it?

(DIRECT SEQUEL TO “ROCK THE CRADLE”)

Fandom: Jupiter Ascending

Words: 14,139 so far

Warnings: Will eventually mention previous neglect/abuse of children

Pairings: Jupiter/Caine

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 recommended for formatting)

Chapter Eight 

She kept thinking about fungus.

It was a strange and kind of terrible thing to focus on, all mushy parts and bright colors to indicate poison. Jupiter had never been much of an outdoorsy girl—she’d always been too focused on the stars overhead—but she knew without a doubt that she’d hate camping, that if she’d attended a public high school any environmental classes would have been a pain, and hell, she wouldn’t touch the mushrooms in her salad with a ten-foot pole. But here she was, imagining oozing, bulbous fungi in the comfort of Stinger’s home. Jupiter knew why too. It was one of the endless, cardinal rules passed down to her on how to properly clean a home:

‘Never touch a man’s shower with bare anything,’ her mom had emphasized. ‘Hands, feet—nothing! You’ll pick up their fungeses.’

As Jupiter got older, wiser perhaps, she kind of wanted to interrogate her mom about that particular bit of advice. When exactly do you think I’m gonna be barefoot in a customer’s shower? What if it’s a woman’s? Is this a gender thing? And hey, are you going to bite my head off if I remind you that the English plural of ‘fungus’ is ‘fungi’?

She’d always chickened out though, mothers would do that to you, but it didn’t mean Jupiter had forgotten any of those useless rules that had been drilled into her head. This one certainly reverberated as she sat in the bath of Stinger’s modest shower.

Somehow, strangely, this felt more intimate than all the sleepovers and shared meals combined. It was necessary though, not the least because Jupiter was pretty sure she wasn’t going to contract any cross-species space germs from taking a load off. She’d gotten into the shower, turned on the water, and promptly decided that standing was just Too Much.

Everything felt a bit Too Much nowadays.

With a groan Jupiter rested her head on her knees, just letting the water pound over her back and push her hair into her eyes. The dust from their little excursion had long washed away and some of the tension Jupiter had built up was actually easing too. Stinger’s bathroom, like the rest of the house, smelled of honey, and if Jupiter strained her ears she could just make out the sound of him grumbling about his corn field downstairs. It was familiar and oddly soothing.

That is, until a massive crash sounded beside her.

“Shit.”

Jupiter’s hand shot out, pulling the shower curtain aside just enough to stick her head through. She glared at Guano who had, astoundingly, managed to knock everything off the counter.

She paused in the act of reaching for a wayward deodorant stick. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Jupiter sighed.

It wasn’t as if she particularly wanted a seven-foot bat splice with a massive wingspan crammed into the bathroom with her, but sometimes things just worked out that way. Guano and the Stingers had gotten along famously when their biggest conflict was how best to embarrass Jupiter. When Guano proclaimed herself a new guard though? Well, things had gotten a little hairy. Or perhaps ‘fury’ was the more appropriate term, given present company.

“You’re doing what now?” Stinger had said, voice oddly soft compared to his normally gruff nature. It wasn’t soothing though. Guano seemed to be the only one not picking up on the change in tone.

She didn’t even spare Stinger a glance, just kept herself down on one knee until Jupiter made a frantic gesture for her to rise. And no, she definitely hadn’t picked that one up from Star Trek episodes where the confident, capable captains got to intone “At ease!” to all their subordinates. Jupiter was more of a Kirk kind of gal anyway: lack of formality all around. To her relief Guano stood immediately, though she still kept her wings and arms folded in the approximation of a parade rest.

Stinger, Caine, and Kiza had all saddled up behind her.

“You left Kalique?” Kiza said incredulously.

Caine shook his head, clearly not buying it. “You were released by Kalique?”

“If that had happened she’d have been sent back to her brood,” Stinger muttered. Jupiter noted that he still had one hand resting lightly on his gun.

Jupiter spread her arms, a gesture of peace. “Oh hey, look, Guano is right here. How about we just ask her, hmm?”

Guano inclined her head in thanks. It was easily the most sophisticated gesture Jupiter had seen from her, and she could suddenly picture how a hulking, over-excited splice like Guano might serve someone as refined as Kalique. She could see it easily now, and it felt like the world titled on its axis.

Then Guano grinned, teeth flashing, and everything fell back into place.

“I wasn’t released,” she said. “And I didn’t abandon her Ladyship.” Guano glared fiercely at Kiza. “I was gifted to Her Majesty.”

What.

“Gifted...?” Jupiter said slowly.

“Yes! To you, of course.”

What.

“Dammit,” Caine muttered and caught Jupiter around the waist just as she blew a gasket.

It was, in retrospect, not her finest moment, but there was only so much crazy a woman could take before she needed to let off some steam. Jupiter certainly wasn’t yelling at Guano--she was the victim here, right?—but she might have directed her frustration at the party more broadly, only dimly aware of them nodding compulsively like they’d heard it all before (which they had). Who the hell did Kalique think she was? (“An Abrasax, Your Majesty.”) You can’t just give away people! (“We’re not people, Your Majesty.”) Splices. You know I mean ‘people’ more broadly, Kiza. (“Yeah, I know, and it’s appreciated... but she can actually do that.”) No she can’t! (“It’ll be alright, Your Majesty.”)

It wasn’t alright and sometimes Jupiter wanted to rip her hair out at the blasé attitude of her friends—her family. A part of her got that she was just one newbie trying to comment on a system they’d lived in their whole lives, that had existed for generations... a larger part just wanted them to admit that they were angry about it all, even once. Instead they settled on something in between: Jupiter admitting that temper tantrums weren’t going to get anything done around here; Stinger, Caine, Kiza, and a now confused Guano giving her kind looks for the tantrum in the first place.

Even if it set her teeth on edge, Jupiter let Guano explain that, yes, she’d been gifted to her by Kalique. That she’d noticed how well the two of them got along and intended it as a gesture of goodwill before their dinner tonight. Jupiter asked sarcastically if she was supposed to give a gift in turn. Could it be a hard right hook?

That should have been the end of it. Kalique was obviously up to something, but there was only so much they could do here and now. And of course Guano could stay, serve, whatever... except...

“Her Majesty already has a royal guard,” Stinger had said, eyes narrowed. Guano had faced him with ease.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Caine is her first guard, her mate. I am her second. My daughter, her third.”

“Three’s a good number,” Kiza said.

“So is four,” Guano countered.

“I like four,” Jupiter said. Literally no one was listening to her.

Stinger had come even closer, nearly nose-to-nose with Guano. “How do we know we can really trust you? That you aren’t still loyal to Kalique?”

“How do you know I won’t break you for suggesting such a thing?” Guano closed the distance, breathing straight across Stinger’s cheek. “Bats sometimes eat bees, you know.”

“Oh boy,” Jupiter murmured.

“Shit,” she said now, repeating Guano’s choice of phrase and looking at the mess that was Stinger’s bathroom floor. That wasn’t going to endear him to the new addition. Guano was still frozen with guilt, grabbing onto that deodorant stick like a lifeline. With a sigh Jupiter pulled the shower curtain under her chin and tried to soften her expression.

“It’s fine,” she stressed, even though things kind of weren’t.

The four of them had continued bickering all the way back to the house in a manner Jupiter was more inclined to label as reminiscent of ‘sibling rivalry’ than ‘arch nemesis,’ but that didn’t mean it didn’t grate on her nerves. It just wasn’t cute when they had Kalique to deal with. First stolen honey, a fox splice in broad daylight, then changing their location, now Guano as a goddamn ‘gift’...none of it was adding up, yet all of it was turning Jupiter’s stomach. She’d padded upstairs to make herself presentable and had gotten Guano as a stray. Though Jupiter couldn’t blame her. Stinger had probably threatened her out of the living room with a spatula or something.

“I’m too big for this house,” Guano said, sweeping everything up with her wings and dumping it into the sink. Jupiter hummed an acknowledgement.

“I sometimes feel too small for this universe,” she said.

“You are rather small, even for a human.”

“Pff. Thanks, Guano. I think.”

Jupiter had never put much stock in modesty (sharing a single bathroom with a family as big as hers, she didn’t have the luxury), so she just left the curtain open a bit and finally got down to the actual cleaning business. She still didn’t bother to stand though, just grabbed a bar of soap (milk and honey, what else?) and got to work. Guano watched with detached curiosity.

“What’s she like?” Jupiter asked, soaping up her legs. Stinger had been kind enough to lay out a new razor.

Guano tilted her head. Long ears pointed towards her, just like Caine’s did sometimes. “Who, Your Majesty?”

“Kalique.”

“Oh! Well, she’s an Abrasax. She’s beautiful and rich and powerful and—”

“And encourages everyone to repeat those things about her,” Jupiter interrupted. “C’mon. What’s she really like? You can be honest.”

Jupiter wasn’t sure a splice like Guano, bred and raised for loyalty could really be ‘honest’ in the way she was looking for. Then again, bats weren’t known for their loyalty, not like wolves or bees, and Jupiter definitely caught a glimpse of... something in Guano’s eyes. She folded her wings, crossed her booted legs over the toilet, and leaned her whole bulk precariously over the edge. It put her just a few inches from Jupiter, though she experienced none of the tension she felt when Guano had faced off against Stinger.

“I can tell you three things, Your Majesty,” she whispered, “and you can do what you want with them. Yeah?”

Jupiter leaned forward as well, arms crossed over the tub’s rim. “Alright.”

Guano’s fingers were longer than a human’s, nearly black and so thin they could probably be used as weapons. She held three of them out, poised near Jupiter’s chin.

“One: I worked for Her Ladyship for nearly thirty years and she sent me on many, many missions, but she didn’t bother to learn my name, rank, or capabilities until she sent me after you.” A finger curled into her palm. “Two: The previous dinner we attended was the most relaxed I’ve ever seen Her Ladyship. And three: She may not have fought in the war as I have, but she is one of their fiercest warriors I’ve ever encountered.”

Jupiter nodded slowly. She could see that. Kalique had always fought with brains rather than brawns, and it made her that much more dangerous. “Thanks, Guano.”

“I’m very happy to be serving you, Your Majesty.”

Cupping her hand, Jupiter caught some of the water and flicked it at her. Guano spluttered, the fur on her face wet, clearly not knowing how to respond. Jupiter pinned her with a serious look.

“You know you don’t have to serve me, right? If you don’t want to. You’re always free to go.”

“But I do! Want to be here, I mean. Not go. Not if you’ll have me.”

“Even if it rubs Stinger the wrong way?”

Guano grinned. “Especially then.”

“Figures,” and Jupiter flung a bit more water at her. Guano’s whole body ruffled and she ended up knocking more things off the counter. Jupiter finished washing as she cursed.

It was while she was re-rolling the toilet paper that Guano suddenly stopped, hunched her wings over her shoulders protectively, and seemed to hesitate about what to say next. When she did finally speak it was with her face turned away from Jupiter and the lines of her back hard as iron:

“Also, I... I’m very sorry about your pup,” she said quietly.

Jupiter shivered, the water on her back suddenly feeling cold. Yeah, she was sorry too. Sorry enough that she’d been trying not to think about washing Balem in this very room... though never so sorry that she’d get over how everyone acted like he’d died instead of just growing the hell up.

Then again, if you lost every piece of who you were when that happened, was it really any different?

“God.” Jupiter tilted her head back and let the water pound against her eyes. “I’m...” What? There were too many things to say and not enough ways to say them. “I’m sorry for you too. The war.”

Guano took the peace offering, turning back her way. A bit of toilet paper was caught on her wing. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And if I’m owning up to my own ignorance here, uh... what war was that exactly?”

“Ha!” Guano smiled again, even if it was tinged with something darker. “That is funny. It’s a big universe, Your Majesty, and I’ve fought my fair share. The question you want is which war.”

“...that’s not a conversation I need to have right now.”

“You humans say something else funny... yes! ‘You’re not drunk enough for this,’ right?”

Jupiter chuckled, nodding. “We’ll fix that one of these days.”

“Not me.”

“Wait, can splices not get drunk?”

“None of us can.”

Jupiter looked up, finding Caine standing ramrod straight in the doorway. He’d done away with his weaponry and stripped down to just a tank, jeans, and boots—looking mighty fine, if Jupiter had to put a label on him. His expression was a little sour though as he surveyed Guano and Guano’s mess.

He was also carrying a massive box which... okay.

“You,” he said to Guano. “Out.”

Guano deliberately looked to Jupiter. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, go on. Go bug Kiza for me.”

“Of course, Your Majesty!”

Guano left—deliberately bumping into Caine on her way, turning to give Jupiter a wink—and then it was just the two of them, finally alone.

Jupiter stretched her legs and thought about fungi. She thought she got it now though. Something in her life was definitely growing... she just wasn’t sure if it was poisonous or not yet.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Caine echoed.

Jupiter beckoned him to her and, like always, he came.