#(which is to say it's based mostly off of over sea under stone and the dark is rising - with hints of the grey king running through)

[good--merits-accumulated]

i fear i am endlessly predictable (writing new dps au which is once again fantasy with Arthurian elements)

[altfire]

Fic asks: 1, 25, 50 :3

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

best introduction,,, i feel like if i wanna put my best foot forward i'd say Behind Enemy Lines (a widowmaker overwatch character study, said by some 2 be my magnum opus) but i personally feel like the horror and the wild (tes oc fic) is more representative of my Current Style And Ability lol

the rest under the cut bc this got long lol

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write?

i write in google docs, but i do a lot of like Scrap Writing and keep a lot of references on google keep. as far as resources, i have a bookmarks folder of articles i reference often. here's some prominent ones:

7 point outline (i use this to lay out the general shape of an outline before fleshing it out in this next point)

my proprietary short story/novella outline (which i made myself and have used for multiple projects. it's flexible and can be stretched out as needed. here's an explanation/example)

STC scene outline (if a scene is giving me trouble i consult this to see if anything is missing)

STC full outline (i mostly use this for vibes and not like Fully Use It but it helps me idk)

OH AND OF COURSE the UESP my beloved ♥ with how much tes fic i write i practically live on the uesp, it's ridiculous

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about! 49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

i have So Many Projects right now but to talk about something other than thatw for a second, here's some of the tun-tei thing i've been working on (~460 words):

It was barely dawn when he finally caught sight of Winterhold, and by the time the sun's first wan rays of light peeked up over the Sea of Ghosts, he was silently picking open the Hall of the Elements. The silence was comforting, and the warmth inside even moreso - thankfully it was early spring, and the cold in the southern holds wasn't so bad, but this far north it was as if seasons didn't exist. Between the perpetual winter weather and the frigid ocean air, Tun-Tei was sure his beloved couldn't have picked a more miserable place to settle down.

 Safely inside the college, Tun-Tei relaxed and opened the door on the left side of the foyer without care for being heard and took the stairs two at a time, despite the weariness of traveling all night. He was revitalized, as always, by what waited for him.

He pushed open the door to the Arch-Mage's quarters much more slowly, quietly, and kept his footfalls soft as he crept inside. He tossed his traveling cloak over a chair and noted the magelights that kept the alchemical garden illuminated were still out for the night - a good sign that his target wasn't yet awake.

A soft sound drew Tun's attention, then, and- and he strained to see, in the darkness, but a familiar motion conjured a healing light in hand and he gestured, curious, toward the stone floor. There - a piece of parchment, blown off the table and to the floor by his cloak. He picked it up, turning it over on reflex.

It was a map, which in itself wasn't particularly interesting, but it wasn't of Skyrim - rather, it was a map of all of Tamriel, and a recent one if the uncertain border between Morrowind and Black Marsh was any sign. Tun was used to maps being dated to the end of the third era, or at the least being admittedly based on older maps. An accurate, up-to-date map wasn't common, and his thieves' sense for loot lit up. To the right buyer, a merchant or adventurer, this could be worth almost a thousand septims. What use had the Arch-Mage for such a thing?

He looked it over for any further clues - anything written in his lover's steep hand, inked into margins - but only found one. One city was circled in noticeably darker, newer ink than the map had been scribed with: Stormhold, right on that uncertain border, placed as the last bastion between the volcanic wastes of Morrowind and the swamp.

Unbidden, Tun's stomach turned over, anxious, as it always did when he was made to think of Black Marsh. He set the map back on the table and put it out of his mind. He could ask in the morning.

[goatpaste]

evil mane six you say... im listening👀

e! yeah this is like from a nearly 6+ year old AU of mine from when i originally into mlp and stuff 

lil cringe but i really wantd to update it because i liked some design/story concept from it

some of the basic world building for this AU was that the Crystal Empire never disappeared and went on to basically be the cantorlot of this universe, and ponies relied on a crystal based technology system and magic became less of a focus as crystal magic was something everyone could use.

Sombra is a good king of the empire, with a large happy family. Dear friends to the wizards of cantorlot, Celestia and Luna. Sombra also made of the elements of harmony in my AU but this is about these bad bitches

twilight in my AU was a unicorn who looked up to the wizards of Cantorlot and wished to train under their wings. she learned many powerful spells from them and the books of great unicorns.

however Twilight became obsessed after learning of the elements of harmony, an ancient relic that had gone into slumber years ago claiming it wouldnt return until it was needed. however twilight thought herself to be smarter and able to force it out of hiding so that Equestria could have a boost in magic believing it would further society to have another source of power.

Twilight had no idea what she was working with and began to work behind the backs of celestia and luna. Tuning into Lord Tireks ability to absorb magic she used it for herself to drawn out the magic of the elements. However she was rejected and the spell turned on her, turning her to a monstery figure would mind could only think of taking the elements powers.

Shining armor was there with her when it happened trying to stop her, but instead became apart of the magical rejection. Only his body was effected and he was forced to stand by and watch his sisters mind become corrupted. Now she is locked in tarturus with Shinning armor as the doors gaurds, hoping they can find a way to heal her. 

Rarity is much like her normal self, the only difference is she much more work focused and lives in the crystal empire. She was so goal oriented that she had no friends and simply went day to day working herself to the bone trying to make each dress better than the last. 

it drove her made when she began to believe her style was becoming repetitive and she simple would do anything to get out of her runt. so she left the empire and went out into the snow around the kingdom seeking out an old mine full of unique and beautiful stones. 

Little would she know she would come across a locked away evil that would take over her mind, feeding on her greed and want to be the best. she would act much as normal Sombra, taking over the crystal empire and demanding the most beautiful stones and jewelry and gowns of the people. it would be this event that would set the new elements into motion, king sombra and friends stopping rarity. (id like to thing her villian name could be oddity...)

when i originally designed these villian designs pinkie was defiantly meant to take over nightmare moons place. 

Pinkie pie’s family lives in the crystal empire, as crystal farmers. Pinkie pie herself would work at the castle as a party planner from planning the birthdays of sombras children, to grand galas to diplomatic brunches. She is close friends with Princess Ivory.

However when rarity took over Pinkie pie was held captive as a jester for rarity. some believe the close contact with a creature radiating darkness infected pinkie pie. because there was hardly any build up, just one day Pinkie pie seemed to snap. right in the middle of a party she went berserk and began to destroy everything. The royal court chose to let her off assuming she was sick or had a sugar crash, the list of what it could be was endless. Pinkie pie word return again to throw Princess Ivory’s party and nearly kill her. Pinkie pie would have no memory of what she did only to come concious and learn she was banished from the court and to ever see Ivory again. it broke Pinkie’s heart and it was a moment of weakness. her mind was clouded and she turned into a monster of a mare named ‘The Timeless Party’ and planned to party the whole planet to its core until it could party no more.

with the new found elements of harmony powers pinkie pie was saved, she hasnt returned to the castle but still gets note from Ivory despite refusing to see her out of fear of hurting her. 

Rainbow dash was a clouddale pony, she never left the city and happily worked at the weather factory and thinking of the day she would be a wonderbolt. Until the day she lost her wings, she could no longer fly like other pegasus and began to adjust to her new life. she moved to the ground and became a park ranger. she lived a happy simple life coming to enjoy the new experiences that came her way that she never thought she would thought she would enjoy.

Until a stroke of misfortune hit her, literally hit her. A bolt of lightning hit her and she swore she died, Until she  awoke and found she wasn't. instead she was covered in dark rolling clouds that she could manipulate and shape to her will. 

Rainbow dash found she could fly again and faster than ever before and with no fear of lightning or hail. the weather knelled to her. little did she know with the use of her power she brought on violent storms, floods and lightning made forest fires. Rainbow dash chose to stop her new powers until she could get them under control, but found this itch like a voice in the dark parts of her mind. telling her to let go and enjoy her powers, they were a gift after all.

it wasnt long until rainbow dash changed and seemed to no longer care about her damages. with this came the ancient unicorn, Starswirl the bearded. An old unicorn of old equestria would had frozen his aging to ensure his students could full take over for him one day. however star swirl was full of himself and could never see the bigger picture. He would freeze rainbow dash in ice and leave her in the cold mountains. 

with the story reaching tarturus shining could over hear twilight talking about starswirl and asking shining armor if he really thought rainbow dash was the villian and if starswirl choices were truly for the best. 

Fluttershy lives in ponyville outskirts but ponyville in this world is mostly underwater and a tourist town for the large spa/hotspring resort run by and supported by a colony of seaponies and sirens. 

Fluttershy barely patreons there except to quietly get a spa once a month. and leaves without a world.

she still works with animals but mostly runs a pet cemetery for animals that drowned in the local waters or potentially eaten by rouge sea creatures. Fluttershy sadly would die in her own cemetery having fallen and hit her head on a tombstone. 

however after not being found she would be reclaimed and returned to the living by the earth. believing she was given a second chance and was not one with the earth Fluttershy didn’t notice that it was darkness that brought her back.  Fluttershy didn’t question her need to send the world back to a state when animals thrived and ponies were scares.

(a villian name i had for her was Queen Pangea)

With the mostly underwater Ponyville in this AU applejack comes from a family of both seaponies and sirens. herself mostly taking after the siren side of the family. She comes from a farming family of seaweed farmers that contributes to the spa and Ponyville’s many economy source. 

Applejack’s colony would suffer a infection of darkness that effected a good chunk of the siren population including a bunch of applejacks family and herself. It started with it switching on and off were they would go into schooling frenzies and attack wildlife or other seaponies and sirens. Ponies began to speak bad of sirens believing them to be showing their true nature, which only pushed applejack over the edge. she would begin hunting the waters and destroying other seaponies livelihoods and the things the spa required, even running off guest.

Starswirl has plans to take care of the siren colony that has begun to terrorize ponyville, and shining armor questions if he really has the best choices in mind and wonders if the sirens are at all like his sister and need help. 

[spaceageloveblog]

My immediate reaction seeing to this thumbnail was these are my top 3:

“Whole Lotta Love”

“Heartbreaker”

“Black Dog”

And when he does his intro, he says these are what he thinks are Led Zeppelin’s 10 greatest riffs based on how iconic they are, if they’re in famous songs, and how fun they are to play by yourself. I can’t comment how fun they are to play, but based on the first 2 criteria, my perspective on the top 3 riffs holds.

Right off the bat, 10-9-8 on this list goes, “Moby Dick”, “Good Times Bad Time”, and “The Ocean”, none of which popped into my head like my top 3 but are all awesome and all deserve to be on here.

OK, “Heartbreaker” was 7, “Whole Lotta Love” was 5, and “Black Dog” was 4. So it’s good to see my choices on the list despite being out of order. But his 6 and his 3 being ahead of anything my top 3 is horse shit. I’d probably round out my top 5 with “The Ocean” and “Moby Dick.”

And his 2 was “Stairway to Heaven”, 1 was “Kashmir”, so I guess I should have thought of those. But I think of those as the most iconic songs, not greatest riffs. So this video hasn’t shifted my initial reaction

***

I read something recently online--I can’t remember where--advising people to pick seasons of interest. Go deep on something, read books, watch movies and do whatever else on a topic. And when it’s runs its course, and you’ve grown no longer interested, let it go and move on to something else. You always have your memory of that season and your knowledge of that topic for yourself and to pass onto others.

Led Zeppelin has been that for me for a little under 2 months as I’ve slowly read this autobiography for 15 minutes a day. I’ve listened to their 8 albums, not sure their post-Bonham 9th is considered canon, so maybe I’ll get to that. I’ve watched countless YouTube clips and am even watching the The Song Remains the Same doc as I type this, thought the book didn’t give it the most persuasive sales pitch.

I’m struck by how path dependent one’s taste in something can be, at least for me with Led Zeppelin. I was born around the time Led Zeppelin was ending. I grew up with their music all around me, they were one of the staples of classic rock radio. (They probably still are.) I heard their songs in the order of their popularity, not chronologically. There were songs I thought were OK, songs I didn’t like, songs that annoyed me.

I thought I knew everything I needed to know about them simply by what I heard on the periphery. And by periphery I mean sitting in the backseat, listening to whatever my parents had on the radio. I reckon as a 10 year-old boy in 1989, I’d heard “All of My Love”, “Fool in the Rain”, and Robert Plant’s “Sea of Love”, as much or more than “Whole Lotta Love”, “Stairway to Heaven”, or “Kashmir”. It’d probably take another 10 years--after I had control of the radio plus college parties--for the real classics took over.

So that’s how my Led Zeppelin came into my life.

Everything changed when I started from the beginning, allowing myself to experience it as a season. Bob Spitz appeared on Ryen Russillo’s podcast on July 22 to discuss the book. So I probably listened shortly thereafter. Starting reading the book on August 4. Listened to Led Zeppelin I on Aug 6, II on Aug 12, III on Aug 15, IV on Aug 22, Houses of the Holy on Aug 27, Physical Graffiti on Aug 30, Presence on Sep 20, In Through the Out Door on Sep 26.

In between I also listened to albums of some of their blues influences, including Buddy Guy, B.B. King and Muddy Waters. And some albums of adjacent rock band, including Jeff Beck, Jimi Hendrix, Stone the Crows, and The Pretty Things. I liked all of this music. But pretty much over these last few months, I mostly listened to Led Zeppelin over and over.

Apple Music tells me “Dazed and Confused” is my 16th most listened-to song this year, and I only been listened to it since early August. I love this song. I think it’s my favorite Led Zeppelin song.

But I think I’m ready for this season to be over. I only have 10 pages left in the book, but I’ve been on cruise control the last 100 pages or so. These guys might be terrible people. I am getting tired of enduring the hijinks of bunch of drug addicts.

***

I don’t know what my next season will be exactly. Maybe it just just be getting my shit together with my diet, kick this half-marathon training into high gear (race is first weekend of December), then perhaps getting back with the personal trainer and picking back up the weights. Not sure that would works as a season.

This Led Zeppelin biography did inspire the next book I’m going to read. There was this tidbit about the band recording their Presence album in 1975 in just 18-days in the basement studio of a hotel owned by Giorgio Moroder. I want to read an entire book about that studio. When I Google if such a book exists, I didn’t find that exactly. But I did find a short book called I Feel Love, a biography of Giorgio Moroder and Donna Summer. “I Feel Love” is my favorite song. Maybe a deep dive in this will be my next season.

And I do feel love. But my family and I need joy in our lives. I need more joy in my life. It’s been all work lately. For all of us. Even the things we like, like soccer, involves a lot of work--driving to and from practices, scheduling of hotel reservations, coordinating calendars.

And I’m not talking about needing to do something fun like go on vacation or something. I’m talking about day-to-day joy. I was already feeling the need for my joy before a hurricane came. We have friends with their houses flooded. Finding joy in the simple things seems more important than ever.

A few days ago my oldest son was tinkering around on his iPad art software and asked for ideas to draw. I told him Jimmy Page. And he came back with this. Joy (:

[exyrpf]

best stucky fic recs pwease

Okay, disclaimer, these are all like five+ years old (which is the best Stucky era, imo) and definitely not the only ones I enjoy; these are just a few in my bookmarks on ao3.

In no particular order besides the order I bookmarked them and under a read more because there's a shit ton of them (really, it's a lot):

- hold me until we crumble; Not Rated, 23k

“Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

- despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained); Explicit, 72k

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

- family means no one gets left behind or forgotten; Teen, 11k

“Why did you think I wouldn’t like you for being gay?” Steve asks gently.

“You’re Captain America.” Eli’s got his teeth clenched and is resolutely looking ahead. “You stand for truth and justice and the American way. You stand for American morals. You stand for…” he shrugs awkwardly. “Not people like me.”

Steve blows the air out of his cheeks slowly, trying to figure out how to keep the anger out of his voice so Eli doesn’t think it’s at him.

Or, Steve comes to terms with his new world, and gains some children in the process.

- Mistake on the Part of Nature; Teen, 1.3k

Steve takes in Bucky's betrayed look and Sam's confusion, follows Sam's gaze to the pile of mangled fruit in the trash can. Sudden comprehension fills his face.

"Oh," he says. "Bucky found out about bananas."

In which an American icon is mourned. But probably not the one you're thinking of.

- Swear Jar; Teen, 1.5k

Bucky isn't the only troll in the future.

OR

Steve has a Swear Jar and he makes the Avengers pay up every time they cuss.

- Barnes & Rogers and the Goddamn Truth; Not Rated, 19k

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

- perfectly right wrong number; Teen, 32k

It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

- The power of the right shirt (a.k.a. God bless America); Teen, 1.2k

"He just…" Phil trails off, mouth gaping. He is staring at the field outside the house, eyes glazed.

Clint sighs. "Yeah, he just ripped a log in two with his bare hands."

- To fill it up with something; Teen, 21k

A fateful encounter with Dr. Strange leaves the Winter Soldier transformed, and Bucky Barnes reunites with Steve Rogers in a most unexpected way.

“Steve brings the puppy inside, into the apartment that doesn't quite feel like home no matter how much he's been trying. He isn't used to being alone. Before the war, he always had Bucky, and his mother until her death. During the war, Bucky was there, too—and the rest of the Howlers, of course—but Bucky always meant home. (And well, maybe Steve's already got a name for the puppy in mind)."

- build it bigger than the sun; Teen, 10k

“Yeah, because nothing says heteronormative like living in Dupont Circle for two years and wearing skin-tight shirts to hit on hot airmen when you go running in the morning.”

“Look, I know you’re being sarcastic but I really don’t get how no one picked up on that.”

Steve and Bucky try to work out their relationship. The Avengers keep getting in the way.

- Memories Circle (Like Birds of Prey), Teen, 32k

Everything seems to be going right, Steve's fighting with his Commandos, they've saving lives-- until Steve falls from a train, is taken prisoner, and turned into the Winter Soldier. Meanwhile, Bucky takes up Steve's mantle as Captain America, and thanks to Zola's experiments, he gets dropped into a whole new time, only to cross paths with a Steve who doesn't know who he is anymore.

Essentially, the events of CA:TFA, mild mentioning of Avengers, and CA:TWS but with Steve as the Winter Soldier and Bucky as Captain America

- The Gentleness That Comes; Mature, 9k

Steve Rogers never really views the things he had to do to get by before the War with any sort of shame or embarrassment. People ask him for his opinions on modern issues in interviews, but Steve has gotten good at talking around those types of questions. Fury insists that there's no way to answer them without casting a shadow of controversy across the reputation of the Avengers, and that's the last thing Steve wants.

But then a sex tape is released featuring Tony Stark in bed with another man, and Steve can't stay quiet any longer.

- salt for the sea; Mature, 7.5k

Natasha comes home with intel regarding the fate of the Winter Soldier; Steve leaves to go and avenge Bucky Barnes.

“It's a list of everyone who was involved in his death, and a rough timeline of everything that happened beforehand,” she tells him.

“And the notebook?”

“I explained what they did,” Natasha says, “The blank pages are for you to explain what you do to them.”

- Lone Cat and Samurai; Teen, 8.4k

"We lost Kitten America sir!" Junior Agent blurted out. Then turned an unlovely shade of purple. "I mean, Captain America. Who’s a kitten. Because magic. Sir."

- Waiting To Prove You're Not Alone; Explicit, 41k

Months after he woke up on the banks of the Potomac, when a reporter mistakenly assumes Steve would disapprove of homosexuality being as accepted as it is in the modern day, Steve accidentally snaps and unleashes his real opinion on the matter... and with that, a secret he's hidden for over eighty years.

When that secret comes looking for him in New York, Steve can only hope that he can get a second chance at saving his best friend, even if it means keeping his heart in check.

“Yeah, back in my day it wasn't tolerated, and because of that I knew from the minute I figured it out, that I’d never get to tell my best friend that I loved him, and sure enough, he died without knowing that I’d been in love with him for a decade."

- I'm Not Sick (But I'm Not Well); Mature, 30k

Steve Rogers doesn’t meet Bucky Barnes in the 1930’s. Instead, Steve meets him April 17th, 2012.

Well…sort of meets him.

In actuality, Bucky had almost hit him with his truck.

Or: The fic where millennial Bucky Barnes nearly runs over a freshly thawed national treasure, and what Steve Rogers did to adjust to modern NYC during those two weeks before the events of The Avengers.

- pure as the driven slush; Explicit, 11k

He should have worked it out sooner. But then, Steve always was a sneaky little bastard—had to have been, just to survive this long.

For the SteveBucky Fest prompt, "Steve is quite experienced while Bucky's never gone beyond second base with anyone".

- Let's Be Exposed and Unprotected, Explicit, 5k

Bucky’s pretty sure he should be into getting fucked through the floor while walls explode around him like in that Mr and Mrs Smith movie that Clint loves. But he likes it like this. He likes being on his back with Steve looming above him, big and naked, blocking out the rest of the world.

- Man of Steel; Explicit, 6.7k

It’s like Steve looked at his metal arm and thought ‘Challenge Accepted.’

- 5 Times Steve Got Arrested and 1 Time They All Did; Teen, 4.9k

What it says, 5 times Steve Rogers ended up in jail (with and without Bucky) + 1 time all of the Avengers got arrested with him.

- the best of you; Teen, 16k

Bucky is on a mission when he gets the call.

They tell him that Steve has been compromised.

[The story wherein Hydra captures Steve to create a new weapon. Bucky, alongside the rest of the Avengers, come together and work through the fallout.]

- pull apart the dark; Teen, 79k

Steve's unending faith in his best friend was beginning to look less like hope and more like fantasy. When they'd caught the Soldier – in a fire fight that still gave Sam nightmares – the only thing the man seemed to recall was how to hit exactly where it hurt.

Four months later, Barnes still refused to speak English. Refused to heed anything but Steve's voice.

So, all in all, it was not a great time for Hydra to attack New York. All in all, Sam really wished they'd just killed him, instead of turning Captain America into a baby.

- Not Another Supersoldier Fantasy; Explicit, 8.9k

Bucky finds a popular sex toy modeled on Captain America's own anatomy. Well, isn't this just perfect? Because even after all this time, he still hasn’t seen Steve’s supersoldier cock. But apparently in this day and age anyone with $29.95 can get a decent replica. The unfairness of this is of galactic proportions.

- the blood of the covenant; Teen, 7.5k

Steve has a "thing" for hot water.

Or, Sam Wilson adopts Steve Rogers.

- Mighty like Love, Mighty like Sorrow; Teen, 19k

After freeing himself from the Russians' mind control, Bucky is left at loose ends, drifting through the decades. Still, he's in no hurry to take up Nick Fury's offer to once again fight the good fight -- especially not when Fury has the nerve to put some imposter in his best friend's old suit and send him out to fight against Chitauri.

- Read Me Like a Book; Gen, 1.5k

In which Bucky accidentally becomes a book collector, because when the universe gives you a million biographies about your boyfriend, you go bookcase shopping. And then he finds out about The Grenade Incident, and the boys actually talk about it like actual adults. (Somewhere, Sam sheds a proud tear.)

- the broadest stroke of color; Gen, 16k

Sarah Rogers always loved Steve's hands.

"Your hands will do a lifetime's work," she'd say. "Remember to do the work you can for those you love."

Almost a century later, Steve does just that.

[The story wherein Steve draws comics for Bucky to help him recover his memory. Through a series of events, the issues are leaked, and Steve finds himself reviving the Captain America comics. He still isn't sure how that happened.]

- If You're Loved By Someone (You're Never Rejected); Teen, 9.4k

You’re fifteen when you realize why you stare at Bucky’s lips more than normal when he laughs and when he says your name. You lean into his shoulder when you walk next to him and when you’re sick you don’t fight off his soft hands. You tease him, he teases back and being around him is so easy you forget what it was like to live without him. You can’t remember life pre-Bucky and it scares you.

- Unusual Weather; Explicit, 8.7k

Bucky’s been at the Avengers Tower for three weeks before he finally gives in to Steve’s gentle coaxing and Stark’s cheerful waving of fistfuls of circuits, and lets them scan the arm.

It doesn’t go well.

- this city bleeds its aching heart; Explicit, 35k

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

- Good Boy; Explicit, 13k

Bucky is still adjusting to life with the Avengers, and Steve is willing to do whatever it takes to make him feel comfortable. Increasingly, though, what seems to make him comfortable is strangely intimate.

Surprise, Steve! You're a gentle dom and Bucky wants to be your pretty pet!

- Brooklyn; Teen, 8.8k

"Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?"

Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

[luminescentauthor]

random fun RatLD hcs

you came here for RatLD shitposts and that’s what you’re gonna get!

SPOILERS AND LOTS OF THEM BELOW THE CUT, IF U HAVEN’T SEEN IT YET PROCEED AT UR OWN RISK.

I refuse to post about this movie without acknowledging the cultural significance of the first SEA disney princess and I will continue to do so until people on this website start remembering that this movie is about amazing cultures and trust and overall a WHOLE lot more than just the sapphics (as great as they are.)

anyway, so, headcanon time, my dudes!

The Next Adventure

Talon is a total mess after everyone gets un-stoned. (Ok so just for posterity, my marvel fan brain just went “un-snapped” on instinct and I hate it here.) The two chiefs are fighting for control, and Noi, being a baby, is not really in a position to help (unlike Raya, Naamari, and Tong.)

As such, the crew has to go undercover in Talon to try and, you know, stop the chiefs from destroying their people with their infighting. Tong insists on coming. Naamari happened to be in Heart and gets dragged along by Sisu and Raya, complaining the whole time, but everyone knows she doesn’t mean it. Boun also shows up and exactly no one is surprised.

During this misadventure, Noi’s mother names Tong as Noi’s godfather/honorary uncle/whatever, undercover Naamari and Raya go “noooooo, we’re not the princesses of Fang and Heart, what on earth are you talking about???” on at least five separate occasions, and the crew discovers that Noi inherited her sticky fingers from her very clever mother. She’s basically a grade-A spy and thief but she’s also just like, genuinely a very nice woman.

Rayaari!

Raya and Naamari take a long time literally just figuring things out and reconstructing their friendship, because really, as much as I love sapphics, there’s also a whole lot of messy there, and because these are my headcanons, they work out their problems and have a healthy friendship for a couple years before any romance happens, because that’s how Real Life works and I don’t believe in ignoring those Pretty Important Things in fiction.

They do eventually start a relationship, but they take their time. A bit into it, Benja accidentally mentions that Raya told him she liked Naamari when they met. Naamari’s like “ha you did?” and Raya goes “BA NO.” Then Virana immediately says “oh yes, Naamari also liked her, she didn’t stop crying because she thought Raya turned to stone for like three days” and Raya goes “you did, hmm???” while Naamari turns bright red.

Before they start dating, as their feelings grow, they start calling each other “dep la” more and more and everyone is just kinda of like “oh my GOD just date already???”

Eventually Raya and Naamari get married and become the leaders of Kumandra. No I Won’t Change My Mind.

Unification of Kumandra

The unification of Kumandra felt a bit shoehorned, and I suspect the nations aren't united under one leader(s): it's more that they're now becoming close-knit again. Perhaps they have a meeting council of all their leaders that makes decisions that affect the whole land, otherwise that probably becomes a thing at some point.

When Kumandra eventually becomes totally unified, the capital of Heart (which I believe is on the island we see on the map of Kumandra) eventually becomes the capital. It still has five provinces/states, though.

Fang and Heart

Heart and Fang help each other out a lot with recovering from the “most of our people got turned into the statues” stuff. Heart has more resources, but most of its people have been stone for 6 years. So the two states/countries are both capable of different things.

Of all the kingdoms, Heart and Fang have the most to rebuild: Fang’s only standing city was destroyed in the finale of the movie, while Heart has been growing over for six years. Sure, Spine’s been stone for a while, and some of Talon’s docks and water ships and whatnot collapsed when the water vanished, but it’s still significantly easier to repair than “six years of overgrowth and rot and rust” or “literally the ground collapsed underneath us and wow um I don’t think that’s reparable.” So they really team up to fix it, and the others help them a lot.

The actual leaders stay in their capitals to lead until things have calmed down a WHOLE lot, so Raya and Naamari travel around Kumandra on their parents’ behalf a lot, and wind up going between Fang and Heart a lot to establish diplomatic relations and also to help with rebuilding.

Over this period, and while doing diplomatic meetings later on, Virana and Benja come to realize that the other person is actual quite decent. There’s some mess and distrust because of Virana’s thing with the Dragon Gem, but it eventually gets worked out. (Virana’s reaction is “yes that’s fair. In my defense, I was trying to do what I thought was right for my people, who were starving, but Yes, That’s Fair.” Benja’s reaction is “honestly if your people were starving from famine and you thought the Gem would help, that makes more sense.”) After a while, they become pretty good friends.

And suddenly Raya and Naamari regret everything. See, Naamari mentioned that both parents make terrible jokes. The girls are Suffering. Help them.

Sisu loves the bad jokes. Sisu also makes bad jokes. Raya and Naamari are silently dying.

It’s silly, but I like the idea that 3-4 years down the line, Virana and Benja consider getting married just for political reasons (alliance and all that) (they’re not actually interested in each other, it’s just practicality) and Naamari and Raya, who are not dating but are definitely in deep for each other at this point, are immediately like “NO. NO. DO NOT MAKE MY CRUSH MY STEPSISTER. DO NOT.”

Virana and Benja (mostly Benja) tease them by “considering” it for a bit longer, but they don’t, since they talked about it and both kids are uncomfortable with it. (”They like each other, don’t they?” Virana asks dryly. “Ohhh yeah,” Benja replies.)

Music? Music!

I was listening to a youtube mix this morning and “Too Far Gone” by Hidden Citizens popped up and it just reminded me of Raya’s attitude towards Kumandra at the start of the movie. Also it’s just a beautiful song.

“Knife in my Back” by Alec Benjamin is Raya @ Naamari before they figured things out, change my mind.

Other Stuff!

We can guess based off how long it took the crew to get from Tail to Fang even with side adventures (I think it was 3-4 days max, I wasn't totally paying attention) that one can navigate from one end of the river to the other within a couple days even in a boat like Boun's, and the royal families probably have even faster modes of transportation. (I.e. Naamari got from Tail to Fang in a couple days, then to Spine, then beat the crew back to Fang. On land.) Therefore, unlike I was originally thinking, it's actually totally realistic for the crew to be visiting each other once or twice a month.

It's even more realistic for Naamari to crash Raya's place on a weekly basis, since that's probably like six hours on cat at max.

I don't know what the cats are, so I will be calling them saber-cats until someone corrects me.

TUMBLR JUST MYSTERIOUSLY STOPPED ACCPTING MY "E" KY HLP I HAV TO US COPY PAST

Wait I think I fixed it. Crisis averted! Sorry about that.

Because Naamari is in Heart half the time, Virana visits quite frequently too. It’s not a long trip, anyway.

Virana is not straight (haircut) but I can’t decide if she’s a lesbian or what. She doesn’t have a spouse and never did. Only those Virana closely trusts know who Naamari’s dad is. Naamari does know and she’s met him, because Virana figured she had a right to. He and Virana never had a relationship, Virana just sort of needed an heir and a trusted personal friend offered to father the kid.

Tong’s wife is a total badass and instantly fits in with the crew. She and Noi’s mother quickly become very close friends.

Noi and Tong’s kid also immediately get along. As in, they constantly throw things at each other while giggling madly and both love the Ongis, and -- are they whispering to each other in that corner?? They might be conspiring to take over the world. Who knows.

Noi learns how to talk and becomes about 5 times more chaotic. Everyone is Regret (except Tong.)

[pastelwitchling]

Under the Sea bonus story! I had so much fun returning to this world and these characters. I just really wanted to write a little epilogue sort of chapter. If you enjoy reading at all, please comment and share, it always makes the world of a difference 💙

               Alex heard the laughter of dolphins in his ears, the rush of bubbles against his cheeks as fish swam past. He opened his eyes to treasure; stones of different colors and sizes covered the ocean floor, seaweed, coral, sea creatures of all kinds floated past.

               Once upon a time, Alex had feared the ocean as he feared nothing else. Now he knew he was safe in its waters, for the love of his life resided there. He felt hands on his hips, pulling him back against a warm chest, even under the cold water, and he laughed. He was safe, a bubble of air protecting his head down to the base of his neck.

               “Have you no decency?” Alex asked even as he tilted his chin up, giving Forrest more access to his skin.

               “I wish to kiss my fiancé,” murmured Forrest with a grin against Alex’s neck. “Am I not allowed?”

               “Not here,” he huffed, “where someone might see us.”

               Forrest turned Alex around, making him laugh. He held his face in his hands, the gold band on his finger cold against Alex’s cheek. Forrest’s long blue and gold tail swayed calmly in the water below them, but his voice was in a near growl when he spoke, “I care not who sees us. Let them envy me, for I am the one to marry the most handsome man in all of the oceans and on land combined.”

               Even under the water, Alex’s cheeks heated and he hid his face in Forrest’s shoulder. “Honestly . . .”

               “Don’t you dare look down,” Forrest whispered, tilting down so that his forehead pressed against Alex’s, the blue and gold in his dark eyes glimmering with an overwhelming fondness and love that threatened to kill Alex in the best way.

               As he neared, Alex’s mouth instinctively fell open, and he found himself closing the distance between them, eager to taste Forrest’s lips in his, when suddenly –

               “Oi! Can’t you keep your hands off each other for two bloody minutes?!” Kyle appeared, his green and gold fin swimming behind him. He grabbed Alex’s arm and tugged. “Stop hogging him all to yourself!”

               “Oh, leave them alone, Kyle,” Maria sighed dreamily. “They’re in love.”

               “They have their entire lives to be in love!” Kyle demanded. “I have only another short moment while Alex is a free man!”

               Forrest wrapped his arms around Alex’s shoulders, his smile in place, but his eyes dark. “And what exactly do you assume will happen between you and Alex?”

               “Don’t be such a stiff, Forrest,” Kyle rolled his eyes, tugging Alex, and therefore Forrest, closer. “I just want to talk to him. Without you.”

               “That’s simply not going to happen.”

               “Don’t you trust me?” teased Alex.

               “Implicitly,” said Forrest without a moment’s hesitation, and narrowed his eyes at Kyle. “It’s his wandering hands I don’t trust.”

               Alex laughed and kissed Forrest’s cheek. He nuzzled his neck. Even underwater, as fish tickled his feet and the world turned to a peaceful silence around them, Alex could still smell Forrest. Even down here, he smelled like the ocean.

                “Who knew,” teased Jenna, the white pearls in her hair making her look like an angel, “that Forrest could be so possessive?”

               “I did,” Kyle huffed, “since we first found Alex and he wouldn’t let any of us near him.”

               “I was being protective,” Forrest insisted. “Oh, enough of all of you. Come along, my love. We’ve been down here long enough and soon people will start to wake. We best get back to the surface so that I can change to my human form.”

               Alex nodded, but accepted the hugs from Kyle and the others first. Forrest had been right in that Kyle held on longer than the others, squeezing him tightly enough to make him laugh, and then he had his arms around Forrest again.

               “Hold on tight to me, my love,” Forrest whispered into the space between them. Alex remembered a year ago when Forrest had said the same thing to him before saving him from the cavern and returning him to his home. Alex had held on trustingly. Forrest had been his one small relief, even if he hadn’t really known him.

               Now, as they rose to the surface together, Alex was filled with laughter, his chest overflowing with love for the merman before him. When they broke the surface, the cold hit them first, but Alex clung to Forrest’s warmth.

               “Go on,” Forrest encouraged him, his lips against Alex’s ear. “I’ll be right behind you.”

               Alex nodded, and let go of Forrest. He swam to the shore, and walked up the rest of the way. As he stepped out of the waves, he saw the water change color, as though someone were shining a bright blue light underneath the surface, and he turned to find Forrest standing in the water, the waves lapping around his naked waist. His blue hair and the blue glow of his eyes were gone, and his still-glowing blue seashell nestled in his collarbone. Alex smiled. He loved this version of Forrest just as much, for the magic of the sea never seemed to leave him no matter what form he took.

               Alex reached for the hidden clothes he kept wrapped in a towel behind a boulder, and handed them to Forrest. Once they were both dried and dressed, they made their usual way up the far left stone steps to the street above.

               The marketplace was still mostly bare, but Alex spotted a merchant here and there, preparing their stall for the day. Some waved good morning to him and Forrest, some congratulated them, some merely ogled.

               “I hate when they stare,” Alex murmured.

               Forrest grinned. “They can scarcely ignore your beauty, darling. Don’t begrudge them for it. I can hardly resist staring at you myself.”

               Alex blushed. “That’s different! And it’s not me they’re watching, it’s you!”

               He laughed. “So you’re jealous, then?”

               “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, and kissed Forrest’s cheek for good measure.

               When the wooden sign for Le Gateau au Chocolat – Gregory and Isobel’s pastry shop – came into view, Alex and Forrest decided to race the rest of the way. They both reached the door out of breath with giggles. Alex had won by only a small margin. Forrest had been getting much better at using his legs.

               “Oh, Alex, good,” Gregory called from behind the counter. “I’ve decided to change the chicken to beef for tonight.”

               Alex faltered. “Isn’t beef expensive?”

               Isobel came in from the kitchens. She wiped her hands on her apron and put them on her hips. “Don’t you go worrying about that. We’ve taken care of it.”

               Alex looked to Forrest, suspicious. “You didn’t . . .?”

               Forrest leapt onto the counter. “Oh, I certainly offered. What’s the point of being a king with riches if I cannot spoil my love? But no, your brother and sister would not hear of it. This time.”

               “Stop it,” Gregory scolded. “We’re older, we take care of you, that’s how it works.”

               Forrest hummed, and his eyes brightened. “Until Alex and I are married. Then he’s all mine.”

               Alex caught Isobel’s amused look, and turned away, his face red. He cleared his throat. “Anyhow. What time’s the dinner?”

               “Eight,” Gregory pointed. “Do not be late, both of you. Oh” – he dusted some of the sand off Forrest’s jacket – “and try not to mention any merpeople, will you? The last thing we need is for Liz and Max to know the truth, too.”

               “They wouldn’t tell anyone,” Alex defended.

               Gregory and Isobel shared a look, and Isobel sighed. “We can’t risk Michael finding out, Alex. I love my brother, but . . .” she shook her head. “Ever since you announced your engagement, he’s been . . .”

               “He isn’t happy,” Gregory said. “Let’s put it that way.”

               Alex sat down, and looked at the band on his finger. A circle of gold with an aquamarine jewel imbedded in the center. He hated to admit it, but in the moments after his excitement at marrying Forrest had faded, Michael had come to mind. What he would think, how he would feel, react. He’d been anxious, and now he knew he was right to have been.

               “It’ll be all right though, won’t it?” he asked, hearing the plea in his own voice.

               Forrest’s smile dimmed. He never liked the mention of Michael, but he leapt from the counter regardless, stumbled, then came to sit in front of Alex. He took his hands in both of his and kissed his fingers.

               “Everything will be perfect, my love,” he promised. “I’m certain he will come to this dinner with kindness and happiness in his heart. He will be happy only that you are happy.” He hesitated, then, “You . . . are happy, aren’t you?”

               “Oh,” Alex breathed, and wrapped his arms around Forrest’s shoulders tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “I love you more than I can say. I’m sorry, my darling, I don’t mean to imply any different.”

               “Really, Alex,” Isobel assured him, “you’ve no reason to worry about Michael. I’ll make sure of it.”

               Alex sighed, resting his head on Forrest’s shoulder. “I just want everything to be perfect.” He played with Forrest’s fingers. “You’re a king after all, you must have standards.”

               “I do,” Forrest nodded. “Absolutely. If it’s not Alex, then I will not have it.”

               “Oi, keep your distance, you two,” Gregory warned with his wooden spoon. “We have customers coming in soon, and this is no pub!”

               Forrest had Alex’s face in his hands, and was nuzzling his nose. He whispered, “I don’t see any customers now.”

               He took Alex’s lips in his own, one hand reaching into his hair, the other cupping his neck. Alex whimpered in the back of his throat, and Forrest tilted his head to deepen the kiss, their mouths slotting perfectly together, Forrest’s tongue sliding against his own.

               He ran his hands down Forrest’s chest, and then Gregory threw a rag over their heads. “Were you not listening?” he snapped. “Your engagement dinner’s tonight, can you not contain yourselves?!”

               Forrest pointed at Alex’s face, incredulous. “Have you seen him?”

               Alex hid his face in Forrest’s shoulder, embarrassed, as Isobel laughed loudly.

                 “Which looks better?” Liz asked, holding up a deep green dress, and a bright red. “This one? Or this one?”

               “I think you look beautiful in both,” Alex said cheerfully. Forrest sat next to him, eagerly shoveling down the biscuits Gregory had given them to have after lunch. Every so often, he offered Alex one, Alex shook his head, and then he ate the entire thing in one bite.

               “Mmh – yes,” said Forrest. “Beau—ifful.”

               “Oh, you both are useless,” Rosa sighed from where she sat on the counter. “Obviously, the red is terribly unsuitable.”

               Liz frowned. “Is it?”

               “Yes!” she took a biscuit from Forrest’s plate. “This is an engagement dinner. The red should clearly be saved for the wedding!”

               “Do you think so, Alex?” Liz asked.

               “Er – actually –”

               “What’re you asking him for?” Rosa huffed. “You know he’s too nice to tell you the truth!”

               Liz opened her mouth to argue when the front door swung open. Max smiled at them.

               “Good afternoon, all!” He ruffled Alex and Rosa’s hair, and kissed Liz’s cheek. “Afternoon, darling.”

               “Did you see the suit I put out for you?” Liz said in lieu of a greeting.

               “Yes, darling.”

               “Don’t you dare wear it until the dinner.”

               Max’s smile widened. “Yes, darling.”

               “We have to look our best for Alex and Forrest,” she said. Then she mumbled something incoherent to him and they glanced at Alex, as though afraid he’d heard. Max merely nodded in response.

                “Honestly,” said Alex, leaning against Forrest’s side. “You don’t have to go through all this fuss. It’s just going to be a small, comfortable dinner.”

               Liz put her hands on her hips. “Then why did Flint order a new navy-blue coat for the occasion?”

               “Did he?” Alex blinked, and flushed. Since their last voyage, he had feared for his relationship with his brother, the distance the truth about their mother’s death may put between them. He had seemed happy to be invited to the engagement dinner, but Alex had feared it had been an act. To know he cared this much, it gladdened Alex’s heart more than he could say.

               Rosa scoffed. “Well, I won’t need any help preparing. I know exactly what to wear.”

               “Yes,” Liz said testily, “but will you know how to behave?”

               “Oi!” she argued. “Don’t you start with me, it’s Michael you should be concerned about!”

               Liz shot her a sharp look, while Max turned a nervous smile on Alex and Forrest. Forrest had stopped eating.

               “She’s joking,” Max assured them. “Michael’s really happy for you, Alex.”

               Forrest smiled, but it was polite and cold, not at all what Alex was used to. “I trust he will be on his best behaviour.” Then he grumbled, “If not, I’ll throw him into the middle of the ocean.”

               Alex hooked his arm around Forrest’s and kissed his shoulder. “Are there any more biscuits left for me?” he murmured.

               Forrest’s eyes lit up at once, and he handed Alex the largest he had. “I saved it for you, my love!”

               Alex laughed, his heart and the atmosphere of the shop lighter at once.

                 Forrest insisted on watching the sunset before dinner, but Alex had not needed much persuasion. Once they’d excused themselves from the shop, they made their way down the street, Forrest’s arm hooked around Alex’s. There was a time he had clung to him to walk, but now he stayed close for the sake of staying close itself. Forrest played with his fingers, and Alex kissed the back of his hand.

               “Congratulations, dears!” Mrs. Valenti called for what felt like the millionth time, as she liked to congratulate them whenever they passed by. “Isn’t it so exciting, Mr. Higgins?”

               “Eh?” Mr. Higgins chuckled good-naturedly. “Yes, yes, terribly happy for them!”

               Forrest’s eyes lingered, once again, on the frozen fish in Mr. Higgins’ market stall, but at a kiss to his cheek from Alex, his eyes brightened once again.

               Instead of going down to shore, they sat on the brick wall that overlooked the ocean, their legs dangling over the end. The sand below was soft, so there was no fear of falling. Nonetheless, Forrest kept a tight arm around Alex’s waist, and Alex felt safe.

               The sky turned to rose and violet and gold as the sun fell behind the ocean’s surface. Alex asked if Forrest had seen plenty of sunsets before.

               “I try to,” he confessed, “but there’s quite a risk of being seen by sailors, even so far out at sea.”

               Alex shuddered as he thought of Forrest tied to a ship’s mast, at sailors who were happy to harm him because of what he was. He burrowed deeper into his side and nuzzled his neck.

               “I will never let anyone touch you again, sailor or otherwise,” he promised in a whisper.

               Forrest kissed the top of his head. “And I will protect you with my life.”

               “Will I ever see your underwater kingdom?” Alex asked.

               Forrest laughed. “Certainly,” he said. “I will have a room prepared where not a drop of water would dare to enter.”

               Alex closed his eyes and let the sun’s warmth bathe them both in gold. “I don’t fear drowning with you at my side.”

               “And you never shall have to,” Forrest told him, his hold tightening and promising a king’s protection.

               They kissed in the setting sun until their lips swelled. They kissed until Forrest’s hand sought out the hem of Alex’s shirt, and Alex realized that if they did not stop soon, they would not stop at all. Then all those walking on the street behind them would have a true reason to stare. They kissed until Alex started to want nothing more than to fall to the sand below with Forrest in his arms, and forget the engagement dinner entirely. To prove their love another way.

               Then he took Forrest’s wrist and pressed their foreheads together, the two panting, and pulled them both to their feet at the first signs of the evening stars. They went hand-in-hand, laughing, back to the pastry shop.

               Alex told Forrest about the gold coat he’d asked Liz for him to wear, and Forrest told Alex about the deep blue ocean flower he’d acquired for Alex’s coat pocket.

               Then a voice cut through their conversation like knife through ice.

               “Alex,” Michael said with a nod. “Forrest.” His eyes fell on Alex and Forrest’s intertwined hands. “Am I too early?”

               His voice was subdued, and Forrest’s eyes had darkened.

               “Good evening, Michael,” he said, his grip on Alex’s hand tightening. “Not at all. Please, come in.”

                 “Are you nervous?” Forrest asked from where he sat on the edge of Alex’s bed. Alex watched him through the mirror’s reflection.

               Alex pulled on his coat and took a seat beside him. He interlocked their hands. “Are you?”

               Forrest smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. “Only that you will change your mind.”

               Alex raised a brow. “Do you truly imagine my heart so fickle?”

               Forrest’s grip on his hand tightened. “I imagine that there is no one who can love as you can. I know it. It is for that reason that I cannot help but worry. He was your first love.”

               “And you are my last,” Alex told him. “That carries far more weight, in my opinion.”

               Downstairs, they could hear the muffled clinking of cups and plates as the sky turned dark and stars peeked out. In the distance, the waves lapped against the shore softly, a comforting reminder that there was always somewhere they could escape to, somewhere where the troubles of land could not follow.

               Forrest said nothing for a long while, then, “I do not want to see you harmed.”

               “I could only be harmed by losing you,” Alex promised him. “I am marrying a king, it is you who has far more prospects.”

               Forrest scoffed half-heartedly. “I will tell you what I’ve already told your brother; have you seen you?”

               Alex burst into giggles, his face warm. He felt the soft touch of Forrest’s lips to his cheek. The laughter faded as they pressed their foreheads together, Alex’s eyes closed as he breathed Forrest in.

               “Stay close to me,” he whispered.

               Forrest nodded once, his lips brushing Alex’s. “Forever.”

                 Dinner had started off well. Alex and Forrest descended down the staircase to the shop where a long table sat and fairy lights had been hung up. The table lay covered with platters of beef, cheese, fruit and bread. Glasses of wine sat at every chair. Isobel and Gregory had truly outdone themselves.

               Liz sat between Max and Rosa. Beside Max was Michael, Isobel, Gregory, and Flint. Forrest pulled out Alex’s chair for him, making him blush, and kissed the top of his head before taking the seat beside him. Alex did not dare glance at Michael.

               For the most part, they shared in their stories, and though Forrest could not share many of his own for fear of exposing himself, he seemed quite content to listen to Alex’s versions of his bravery and kindness.

               “I hear you were responsible for helping to save Alex,” Michael told Forrest, for he had but one of the many different stories of Alex and Forrest’s first meeting. He bowed his head once. “I sincerely thank you.”

               “I could not see anything happen to him,” Forrest said, smiling at Alex. “It was love at first sight, you see.”

               Alex hoped Michael would not respond, but then he said, “Yes, I understand the feeling.” He was looking directly at Alex, his gaze pointed as though he was trying to share a secret message with him.

               Then Forrest took Alex’s hand and kissed the aquamarine bracelet he’d given him so many months ago on the shore. “All right, darling?” he whispered, and Alex nodded, the smile returning to his lips at Forrest’s eyes on him.

               “Goodness, Alex,” Liz sighed. “I do love that bracelet. Forrest made that for him,” she told Michael, “did you know?”

               “Purely for selfish reasons,” Forrest confessed. “I’ve always wanted to see Alex in aquamarine. He looks so beautiful with it, doesn’t he?”

               “Where did you get that?” Flint murmured. “Bottom of the ocean?”

               Gregory nudged Flint with his elbow, but the five of them were already laughing at the private joke.

               “Honestly, Forrest,” grinned Isobel, “do you care about anything but Alex?”

               Forrest hummed, eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t think so. Why?” he asked, genuinely confused when everyone save for Michael started laughing, “Is there anything else to care about?”

               “I would think someone of your position would have plenty,” Gregory thoughtlessly said.

               Rosa frowned. “What do you mean, of his position?”

               Gregory’s eyes widened and Alex tensed. Forrest, after all, was a king. He had plenty of concerns, yet the others at the table did not know that.

               It was Isobel who chuckled nervously and said, “Well, you see, Forrest is very wealthy. He has so much to tend to back in – er –”

               “Paris,” Gregory quickly finished. “Because, as you all know, he is from Paris. Isn’t that right, Forrest?”

               “Certainly,” Forrest nodded. “I am from Paris.”

               Everyone returned to their meat and potatoes when all of a sudden a loud CLANK! drove all other conversation away. Michael had roughly set his fork and knife down.

               “Is that why you chose him?” Michael asked, breaking the heavy silence. “Because he’s so much wealthier than I am?”

               Alex was staring, brows furrowed. He set his utensils down delicately. When he spoke, his voice was cold to his own ears, something fierce and protective overwhelming him. “I beg your pardon?”

               Michael scoffed, shaking his head. There was nothing humorous about it.

               “Michael,” Max warned, but Michael was already seething.

               “I thought it was odd,” he said. “You’d known him for such a short time, yet you fell in love so quickly. Is that why, Alex? He could take better care of you than I could?”

               “Michael,” Isobel hissed, “enough.”

               “Is that why you wouldn’t even give me another chance?”

               Forrest stood at once, but Alex took his arm. He’d never seen Forrest’s glare so full of anger.

               “I will thank you,” Gregory said darkly, “to mind your manners, Michael.”

               “I’m sorry,” Michael said, crossing his arms on top of the table, his eyes on Alex. “I’m sorry that I’m the only one who will acknowledge that there is too much about Forrest that we don’t know. I’m sorry if I’m the only one who wishes to make certain that Alex is not throwing his life away at the first man to offer him comfort after heartbreak.”

               “No, you’re right,” Flint said, slumping in his seat. “I’d much rather my brother stay with someone who hurt him.”

               “Please,” Alex said quietly, and the table turned silent. He raised his chin and held Michael’s gaze. “Forrest saved my life in more ways than I could say. I did not know of his wealth until I’d already loved him, and even if I had, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

               “Alex –”

               “You are a guest,” Alex told him sternly, “in my home. Forrest is my fiancé, and I expect you to treat him with respect.” His shoulders fell, his tone turned pleading. “I want you to be a part of my life, Michael. Please don’t make me push you out of it.”

               Michael stared back for a long moment, his jaw clenched. Then he stood, murmured an apology, and left.

               Forrest wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, keeping him close. He pressed soft kisses to his ear, his cheek, his jaw as Gregory and Isobel made quick work of returning the rest of the table to cheerier conversation.

               Later that night, Alex woke in bed to find Forrest’s side empty. He sat up, looking through the house, and softly called for Forrest in the shop. When he did not find his fiancé at home, panic began to rise in his chest until he forced it down. His father could not harm Forrest any longer, yet Alex knew he would not rest until he saw his love’s face again.

               Realizing there was only one place Forrest could be, Alex quickly threw on a coat and his boots, and made his way down to the shore. There, with his knees pulled up to his chest amongst the waves, sat Forrest, staring out at the ocean. His blue seashell glittered at his neck.

               Alex hesitated, then came and sat beside him.

               “Are you upset with me?” were his first words.

               Forrest frowned. “What in the soundless seas for?”

               “The dinner,” he said. “I told Michael I – I wanted him in my life.”

               A smirk tugged at Forrest’s lips. “That is no secret, Alex. I’ve known it since before I met you. Don’t you remember?”

               Alex did. Forrest had told him that that was when he had first fallen in love with him; when he’d heard Alex speaking of Michael to the stars.

               “Forrest,” he said, “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. Stronger than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

               Forrest chuckled. “You dove into the ocean to save me, Alex. I don’t question your love.”

               “Yet you’re here,” he said, his chin on Forrest’s shoulder, “instead of in bed with me.”

               Forrest turned to him, kissing his nose. “I fear the mess of my thoughts might’ve troubled your sleep.”

               “I am only troubled when you are not there,” he murmured, and kissed Forrest’s shoulder.

               “You will never regret me?” asked Forrest.

               Alex clenched his jaw. “You are a king. I am a mere human. What could I possibly offer you?”

               Forrest cupped Alex’s cheek fiercely, his hold tight. He let his hand fall down Alex’s jaw, his neck, and settled on his opened coat collar. As he leaned in, he whispered the words, as though he was shocked Alex did not know the answer already.

               “You.”

               Before Alex could say anything else, Forrest kissed him. Their lips pressed together again and again, and when Alex felt Forrest’s tongue slide against his own, a moan escaped his lips. When Forrest began kissing down his chin, his neck, Alex looked around to make certain that no one was watching. But then this was the middle of the night. He didn’t think anyone would be awake for hours.

               The waves turned suddenly warm as they washed around Forrest and Alex, as their kisses deepened, as Forrest’s fingers undid the buttons of Alex’s coat and gently pushed him onto his back. The kisses turned rougher, more eager, and Alex felt as though they would never move away from one another again.

               Alex released a breathy moan as he ran his hands up Forrest’s naked back. He imagined them, lying nude on the beach, Forrest thrusting into him, licking a line along his neck, the cold quickly turning to heat so thick that Alex couldn’t breathe and was happy to suffocate.

               He ran his hands down Forrest’s bare cheeks, urging him in deeper. He was so in love he could hardly stand it. This man, bathed in moonlight and showered with drops of the ocean, was to be his husband.

               Alex took Forrest’s face in his hands and kissed him as he’d never kissed anyone before. Forrest was all his, the beautiful merman of blue and gold belonged to him. He never imagined, that year ago when he’d first embarked on his father’s voyage, that he would find such joy. When he’d fallen over the ship’s edge and his world had changed forever.

               The ocean waves hit the shore with a gentle shushing sound, protecting Alex and Forrest from searching eyes. They were safe here, Alex was safe here. With Forrest, with the ocean, with the life he’d been given when it seemed he’d been destined to drown.

               “Hold on tight to me,” Forrest told him. And so Alex did.

[borealis-strange]

Chapter 6 “The witch market”

Link

Summary: 

Franco and Regina finally arrive in the glorious Palladium city, also known as the "Phoenix city" for being reborn from the ashes.

They explore the entire city, seeing everything new it has to offer. The new buildings and the witch market.

After a long day of walking, Franco meets an old friend...

Notes:

I'm thinking of doing some drawings and add them to the story. What do you guys think?

Tag-list:  @freesiafields @bambirexwrites @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen @vaeya @sirenlovesqueen @moreofthatqueen @eileen-crys​

If someone wants to be added or removed from the tag-list, just tell me :}

We decided to leave Gold Pine right after breakfast, rather, Franco decided that. He said something about him wanting to spend more time at Paladium. I didn't blame him, he surely wanted to see how much the city had changed since his departure.

We went to the big red brick station. The place was packed with people, which surprised me. I understood that this station was only about 15 years old, plus it only had trains that led to Paladium. In a way, it reminded me of the entrance to The Shelter, mostly because of the busy people who kept pushing you.

We bought the cheapest ticket we could get, which was only a few copper coins, and we set off on our journey.

The train turned out better than I expected; even though the seats were so close to each other that they stifled a bit, but that was the least of it. At least we had managed to sit together.

The train ride was uneventful, without much to see.

I hadn't been on a train in years, four to be exact, and that's when I left The Shelter. I was only 14 years old and I remember how scared I was traveling all over the Empire on my own. How small and lost I was not knowing where to go. Now all that has changed, I am very grateful that I now had Franco to accompany me.

I turned to see him. His gaze was still lost in the window and I could see how Franco's hands were trembling slightly.

— All good? — Asked.

Franco turned to see me with some nervousness and took his hands to control them.

— Yes… all good — Was the only thing he said before looking out the window again.

__________________

After just over two hours of travel, we finally reached the huge and glorious Palladium city. I had heard some calling it Phoenix City for having survived its destruction and rising from the ashes.

We crossed the city on the train and I was amazed by its large stone buildings where pointed arches were used, roofs with steep slopes and elegant carvings such as lace and latticework. Even though there were still several buildings under construction, the city looked fantastic. ///

I watched as the buildings stopped going by so fast as the train slowed down little by little. Finally it stopped completely. We grab our things before getting off next to the sea of ​​people.

The station was packed with people, which surprised me even more. There were still not too many roads, that I know you could only go to Gold Pine and the Tree city, but maybe they had already built more railways.

We made our way through the people as best we could, until we found the exit.

Right at the exit was a statue of a Netherite knight, as if he was protecting everyone who came to the city. I could see that it had a few flowers at the base. Franco approached the statue and looked at it for a moment before continuing on his way.

As I left the station, the sun dazzled me slightly, presenting the great city to me. Franco stayed a few seconds admiring the city and I did the same. It was simply beautiful, like none I had ever seen before.

I turned to see Franco for a second, he had crystalline eyes, it seemed that he was going to cry at any moment.

— Are you alright — I asked

— Yes ... it's just that ... the last time I saw the Paladium city was when it was destroyed  —Franco replied in a whisper — I never believed they were going to rebuild it as beautiful as it once was —

— Was Paladium the same as now? — I asked.

— No… it's quite different… actually — Franco replied, as if he still couldn't believe we were here. — It's ... much better ... than I expected —

I smiled a little. I couldn't imagine how many thoughts should be going through his head, the only thing I could decipher was some relief. Franco started walking and I followed him.

— And where do you want to go? — Asked.

— I don't know — Franco confessed as he shrugged. — Somewhere ... would be fine —

This… would be interesting. Neither of us had come to the new city. Franco could guide us a bit but who knows how much the city has changed in 30 years.

The first thing we did was look for a hostel to stay in. To be able to leave the backpacks and not have to carry them around the city.

After doing that, Franco guided me through different streets of the city showing me different places, or rather where they were thirty years ago. He showed me where the old knight academy should be, where he did much of his training. He told me that there came knights from all over the Empire since it was the best Academy. It was unfortunate that they did not rebuild it. We couldn't figure out what they were doing now in that place

He also took me where the old castle of the King of Farfania was, now they seemed to be building a great cathedral. Franco told me that he served his former queen for a time. He said that the castle was a beautiful and elegant place, where he had met some of his friends.

Franco showed me an old theater, which according to him had been rebuilt as it was. I had never been a big fan of the theater, and Franco apparently neither, but even so he remembered a few plays. Franco confessed that he came to come a couple of times for a girl that he liked. He couldn't tell me what happened to that relationship.

We come to an area with different houses. Franco told me that this is the street where he grew up. He told me how he used to be a bit of a messy and rebellious kid, who used to get in trouble with everyone. Until, he decided to join the royal guard when he was only 16 years old. He said it was difficult, that no one had confidence in him but he still managed to have great rank and recognition.

We ended up arriving at a large park, full of large trees and people walking and playing. Most striking was the large statue of a Netherite knight in the center.

Franco walked automatically to the large statue, and I followed him.

It was at least 10 meters tall, made of iron that had deteriorated over time. The knight had a heroic pose, raising his sword into the air. The base was made of marble and had a plaque with a dedication. I leaned a little closer to see what it was saying.

“To the 19 Netherite knights who sacrificed their lives for others. We will never forget such a heroic act. Rest in peace and may glory always be with you "

Below were the 19 names, of which I did not recognize any.

—The Netherite knights — I said in a whisper.

Franco came silently to my side and began to analyze the names. I felt like my heart skipped a beat, he had met each one of them.

— One is missing — I heard Franco say, I assumed he said it to himself because of the low voice that he said.

— The King of Farfania — I completed

Franco seemed to laugh when I said that.

— Yes — He said sadly — He used to have a statue, right in this place. He destroyed it himself —

 — Why? — I asked as if Franco had the answer.

— He said that statue did not represent him and that they would make a real one when he saved the Empire — Franco said in a low voice.

— He was really crazy — I commented.

Franco looked at me with sad eyes before looking back from him to the statue.

We stayed a few more minutes appreciating the great stature. Franco moved a little closer to the plate and seemed to say a few words. Maybe some prayer or thanks for the fallen knights or… apologize for not being able to save them.

I don't know if I should tell them something, it would be rude of me not to.

“Thank you for his heroic act. For having saved thousands of people and giving people hope" I said while touching the plate. I wish I had flowers to leave them.

When Franco finished, he gestured to me that it was time to go.

We continued walking in the big city but this time Franco did not tell me about the old buildings or their history. He just walked around like I wasn't with him. Although, this time it seemed that Franco knew where he wanted to go. I ran a little to catch up

— And where will we go? — I asked excitedly when I got to his side.

— Now that I think about it ... I would like to see if The Witch Market still exists — Franco replied with a small smile.

— The what? — I asked.

— Don't tell me you haven’t heard about it! The best market of all, where there are only things of the best quality — Franco said proudly.

I couldn't help but laugh a little at Franco's excitement. To be honest, he had never seen him like this.

____________________

We didn't have to walk too far to get to the market,

The market was inside a one-story tall building. It had a large entrance with doors made of metal. On the sides were large colorful stained glass windows. The crystals were not only the windows but also represented figures of different creatures, day and night, in addition to various plants, more than just windows, they seemed a work of art

Franco stopped for a moment before entering the market and I appreciated it for a moment.

— It seemed that this if they wanted to leave - Franco said with a big smile.

— Are we coming to buy something in particular? — Asked.

— To get you a shield — Franco replied happily — You've been without one for too long. —

— Pfff — I exclaimed with a gesture with my hands — Why do I need a shield? I know how to fight — I said nonchalantly.

— You may know how to fight but you do not know how to defend yourself. This is the new part of your training: coordinating between defense and attack. And it is more difficult than it sounds. Believe me — Franco explained with a smile.

How difficult could it be? I defend myself with one arm and attack with the other. And voila, I know how to defend myself.

— Why don't you explore a bit? — Franco told me. — We still need food, plus you will surely find something you like. See you at the entrance in an hour —

Franco patted me on the back before losing himself in the crowd. The atmosphere was energetic inside the market, with all the people mobilizing and the vendors shouting.

I entered with some nervousness, to tell the truth, I had never been to a market, mostly because my uncle would not let me leave the castle. I couldn't be nervous, I had defeated a golem! This should be easier.

Even though the market was not as crowded as I expected, I still had to dodge people, mostly those who were watching the stalls.

All the stalls were quite different from each other, apart from selling food, they also sold clothes, books, plants, anything you could imagine, you could get it here.

I went over to one of the candy stalls, where everything smelled delicious. It sold everything, caramel cookies, milk balls, golden licorice and more sweets that I could not decipher what they were, I suppose they were traditional from other species.

Then I went to a goblin's stand, where he had all kinds of plants, both decorative and for making potions. It was also filled with flowers of all colors and sizes, all of which gave off a sweet scent. There were even plants that I had never seen, like some kind of algae but in different colors and seemed to move slightly. The seller explained to me that he had obtained it from the depths of The coast of Silence and he explained that some people used it as a method of transportation, he did not want to give me a demonstration because of how dangerous the plant could be.

I saw a stall where they sold clothes, which took me by surprise but I still decided to go closer. They sold clothes made of different types of fabric that did not fit well together, but had a certain charm. They were mostly dresses.

There was a stall where a wizard sold wands. I would have tried them if it hadn't been that I had no magic. The wizard told me that he carved the wands himself, taking care of every detail. They were really pretty, plus apparently they all had a unique engraving.

I approached another of the stalls. One where they sold fresh fruit of all kinds; apples, watermelons, pears, plums, peaches, everything. They looked pretty good, unlike the other stalls.

— Wow — exclaimed the woman who attended the stall — I haven't seen enchanted armor in years. Why do you need armor like that? —

— Oh. It is for when I enter the Royal Guard — I said with pride.

— The royal guard? — Said the surprised woman. — That thing dissolved years ago—

That was not true! I think… Franco used to tell me how he did his service in Tree City and Paladium, and that it was usual for knights to be in big cities but… so far he hadn't seen any.

— Dissolved? — I asked confused.

— Why do you think there are no longer knights in the cities? Well… it was not completely dissolved, the few remaining knights do their service on the walls. It is rare to see someone doing his service in cities or towns — The woman said while she attended to another person.

— Why did it dissolve? — I asked.

— Have you lived under a stone all this time? — Said the woman contemptuously — The fall of Farfania! Unfortunately, several knights died to protect civilians. Especially the Netherite knights, the poor people went to face the king of Farfania alone and well ... you can imagine what happened. Some say that the Netherite knight killed the others because he wanted to be the only one “worthy” of that rank —

That was… much worse than I had imagined.

— After that a huge collective fear arose. — The woman continued — During the following years people lived scared that the king of Farfania would return, so many people decided to retire from the royal guard, although it seems that it is already recovering. Also ... come closer girl — she indicated — There are rumors that the Netherite Knight has returned — she said in a low voice just for me to hear her.

— Seriously? — I was puzzled. That was impossible but… just like my uncle had said, they left him alive.

— Like I said girl, they are just rumors. There have been several robberies of powerful objects throughout the empire and since the kings have not said anything about it, people create their own theories —

— What… things have they stolen? — I asked.

— Everything, books, armor, a lot of building materials, red stone, there are even people who say they have kidnapped fairies. Total chaos —

My mind returned when we went to the Poppy Garden. The fairies had mentioned a wither skeleton. Was he ... the Netherite knight?

— And how are people so sure that he is the Netherite knight? —

— It's hard to forget those white eyes and shadowy appearance — The woman replied.

It was the Wither skeleton. Or at least someone who could easily be mistaken for the knight. Oh Gods, I had messed with some copycat! I hoped that the fairies and Vandal had nothing to do with the knight, but something in me told me that this was not true.

— Are you going to buy fruit or not? — 0The woman took me out of my thoughts.

At the end I brought a few apples and peaches, before I left, not without earning the dissatisfied look of another customer.

I left the market thinking about what the woman had told me. They were just rumors but the rumors have some truth. And if wither skeleton wasn't the Netherite knight, he must be some madman who wanted to replicate his footsteps. The truth did not know which was worse. I should tell Franco about this, mostly because of Vandal. The boy must have something on his hands but Franco had told me to leave him alone. I had to find some way to convince him to seek out and confront Vandal.

After a few minutes, Franco arrived, carrying a gleaming shield.

— I found this and at a very good price — Franco said with emotion — Wouldn't you like to try it? —

I left my worries behind and agreed.

__________________

Franco ended up guiding me back to the knight's park. I didn't know if it was such a good idea to practice there, but when I saw that it was now practically empty, I ended up accepting.

We looked for a space where there were not too many trees and I started with a little warm-up.

Franco sat on one of the benches with some difficulty and from there he began to give me instructions.

I tried my best to imitate everything he said to me. I knew the terms and positions perfectly, but apparently Franco did not find it appropriate.

— You're not doing it right! — Franco yelled at me. I stopped immediately to turn to see him — Your posture is not adequate —

— It would be easier if I didn't have imaginary enemies — I reproached him.

— Do you want real enemies? — Franco said as he got up from the bench with difficulty — I will be your opponent -

Franco stood in front of me, and looked at me challengingly and with a smug smile.

— Seriously? I thought you couldn't fight — I said amused.

— Of course I can! —Franco exclaimed — I'm a little rusty but it won't be a problem against a rookie —

— Okay — I said between a laugh — But you don't even have a sword —

— I suppose that with my cane it will be enough — Franco said with a smile — It will only be to explain the fundamentals and that you understand better. No need to get aggressive —

I had to suppress a laugh.

—We'll start slow — Franco said as he got into position to start. I imitated him.

Franco told me to follow his movements like a mirror; Franco did them slowly and calmly. Most of the exercises were straightforward, as Franco said it was mostly for coordination. Franco told me that later he would teach me more complicated things but that this was a good start.

I was surprised by how easily Franco managed to move. The only thing was that he seemed not to want to put much support on his left foot.

I don't know how long we were training. Although I would have liked a "real fight", it would be interesting, especially with Franco. I had to be patient, I suppose there will be a chance at another time.

— With that you will have enough for today — Franco told me as he gave me a small bow.

I returned the bow and put my sword away.

— And how did I do it? — I asked excitedly.

— Good — Franco said with a small smile — You are doing quite well — He said, giving me a few pats on the back.

______________

After a long day of walking around the city, all Franco wanted to do was rest. His leg was killing him with pain, he hoped that the next day the pain would subside, he didn't want to have to tell Regina that they couldn't travel. Although it wouldn't be so bad now that he thought about it, he could explore other areas of the city that they hadn't visited that day.

He sat on his bed, ready to go to sleep, when a strange breeze filled the room. Franco managed to see a shadow crawl across the ground to form a peculiar figure.

— You are very difficult to find, you know? — Said a voice behind him.— And I have to say ... The years have not been good to you —

That voice, that voice so deep it could make anyone's hair stand on end. That voice, that belonged to a Wither skeleton.

— What do you want!? — Franco yelled, turning behind him.

Rich was still the same as thirty years ago. The same white eyes, the same red coat, and the same gloomy appearance. Although he had to say that he looked too…. worn out somehow.

The skeleton put a finger over his mouth.

— If I were you, I would not speak so loud — Rich spoke calmly. — We don't want to wake people up —

Franco looked at him suspiciously.

— What do you want? — Franco repeated in a low voice.

— I can't visit an old friend? — Said the skeleton mockingly as he began to walk around the room — Being in these directions I remembered the old days. You remember that day? The last time we saw each other. —

— Of course I remember — Franco lamented.

The skeleton approached the window and slightly opened the curtain. He observed all the people passing by on the street, no one noticed his presence. After a few seconds, the skeleton spoke again.

— They  kings rebuilt a part of the Empire, when will they do the same with the rest? — He commented without turning to see Franco

— They won't unless…— Franco broke off quickly.

— Unless, we destroy the Empire. Franco, you are finally understanding what I came for — Said the skeleton with a malicious smile and finally looking back at Franco.

— I will not return to that cause! — Franco yelled furious as he got up from the bed.

— Why? If you let me into the Empire in the first place. — The skeleton approached Franco defiantly — You supported the cause with your heart and sword. It's a matter of time until you get back to it. Also, haven't you seen what we've created? When we destroyed Farfania, people advanced, created new things that were previously believed to be just dreams —

— Stop it! Don't ever mention anything about that again! —

— Don't scream. Or do you want the girl to find out about your betrayal of the empire? —

Franco looked away from him. When he turned around, Rich was already gone.

For years he had tried to get away from that black stain in his past, but somehow it always came back. And worst of all, Rich had survived, something he thought impossible, but when you're a skeleton, you really can't die, right?

[thecandywrites]

Micro-mermaid Chenera Part 1

So, I know I'm, like two months late for Mermay, BUT. I had this amazing dream about micro-mermaids.

So hear me out- mermaids- half fish half human right? Deep sea mermaids/sirens would get HUGE to combat the pressure and stuff right? Well take it the other direction tiny pools in the amazon or the tropics, where we find guppies and betas and little very vibrant, very little fish but with a fantasy twist- micro-mermaids. Adults as big as your fingers, with kids and babies the size of your fingertips and finger nails, based on real fish, like betas, guppies, oscars, mollys, tetras and the like.

My mom ALWAYS kept at least one fish tank growing up, usually fresh water, one time she kept a brackish tank too, saltwater tanks were always too pricy for us BUT SO PRETTY TO STARE AT- AT THE FISH STORES. It's a life long hobby for her that she passed down to at least one of my sisters, my other sister is into guppies and betas almost exclusively and the different kinds and colors just within those two varieties are almost endless. And watching fish swim in a beautiful and healthy fish tank is documented to help out mentally and ease anxiety and even depression. Imagine what it would be like to have a tank of micro mermaids! Especially multiple kinds the way most will have multiple kinds of fish in a tank. I also got the idea from watching a documentary about how TINY little seahorses can be and of course My Little Mermaid- inner tween said 'tiny seahorse needs tiny micro-mermaid to ride it!' And of course seahorses especially are notoriously difficult to keep in captivity. If micro-mermaids were real, I'd imagine the same kind of thing. An expensive hobby that most would dump money into just for the privlidge of having their own wonder of nature.

And just like we have fish stores and fish breeders, think micro-mermaid breeders. Some are really good, others can be crappy, and this story follows a responsible, loving breeder, (more or less based on my mom who I love immesurably)

But me, being...well me, I can't write anything and not have a bit of angst, a good pinch of romance, eventual consentual smutty goodness and eventual happily ever afters. So...heads up.

Also since little fish tend to have shortened lifespans of only a few years, I'd imagine a micro-mermaid's lifespan would be similar in that they'd be shortened as well, so when you read cycles, that's in days. But also don't think of it as to the mermaids being years, if a micro-mermaid is 22 cycles, aka 22 days old, it's approxomately 11 years old in human terms so these guys are literally babies and kids when we meet them and get to watch them 'grow up' so to speak. So again, cycles=days divided in half= human years as point of reference.

But considering most merfolk in the ocean would live for who knows how long- if the average beta can live 2-5 years, lets say micro-mermaids can live to be 5-8 years old. Which compared to most little freshwater fish, is still, practically ancient. time passes differently for different beings, like dog years/human years/elven years kind of thing.

Cool? Cool. Let's dive in! (pun intended)

Micro-Mermaid

Chenera

Part 1

Ethel watched with baited breath from outside the glass as your parents gently used their billowy fins to circulate fresh oxygenated water across their eggs that had they laid in their small cave, made out of a large, fancy geode that Ethel had put into their tank to use as their cave to lay and hatch their young, the pockets of facets in the geode assisting to keep the eggs secure so that they would stay put and hatch successfully.

Ethel was a micro-mermaid breeder, and your parents were considered “royal chameleon” merfolk, a breed made special in that they could, like a chameleon, change their colors to suit their environment, but their fin structure and body confirmation was as if you crossed a beta with a mermaid, but in the micro scale, their large, billowy fins, long hair and plump bodies, an ethereal ideal for the subspecies.

And at a certain stage in their lives, she would put the adolescents into a much brighter colored tank, with things like hunks of gold and platinum and special rocks surrounded by color shifting fabrics on the outside of the glass so that the adolescents would always change into fancy, bright colors with precious metal accents and shifts of colors and special effects to their fins so that they could attract an equally colorful, healthy and vibrant mate and therefore, be worth much more on the market to enhance already immaculate genetics.

Ethel’s other tanks had schools of other micro mermaids of all kinds, from guppies, oscars, swordtails, molly’s, tetras and the like. Ethel was quite the collector and seemed to have every variety of micro mermaid both in nature and that could be bred in captivity and she was highly sought after in the industry because she treated each micro mermaid with the same tender loving care that she would treat her own children, if she had ever got to have them and her home might as well have been a mini aquarium since she ran one of the high end, micro-mermaid aquariums in the city and her home was where she bred the majority of her stock and her personal favorites that she was especially attached to.

Ethel preferred to sell mated pairs of micro-mermaids since micro mermaids preferred to mate for life but others preferred the “harem method” having a few females to a single male to get more clutches of eggs and thus, more micro-mermaids to sell since all the females could be laying clutches of eggs but that was usually harder on the female since she would have to care for the eggs mostly on her own since the male’s attention would be divided among all the clutches of eggs and even in the harem style, the male would prefer the company of his favorite and thus her eggs as well, and while that method got more micro-mermaids in volume, it usually always lacked in quality, the micro-mermaids would be slim, aggressively competitive and prey driven and would only live half as long, but wild caught micro-mermaids usually died before they could produce a clutch in captivity and capturing wild micro-mermaid clutches could be almost impossible since they usually hid them so well. Especially since male micro-mermaids could be very territorial once as mated adults. But before the mating process as adults, males could be housed together as kids and teens while in captivity.

Ethel had one particular tank though where she called it the “odds and ends” tank, where usually the last of her older micro-mermaids had clutches and died before the eggs could fully develop, where she would move the clutches into the large tank to be cared for by the community, something like an orphanarium for micro-mermaids that had a little bit of everything in it and to see so many varied individuals, and sometimes divided off into schools, it was one of her favorites to sit and watch and drink her tea.

She would even get clutches from other breeders, who would usually get overwhelmed or would run out of funds to keep the tanks going since micro-mermaids could be a very expensive hobby because they had a very specific and very demanding feeding and housing requirements depending on the subspecies, the salt water varieties being the most so. But in this particular room, was the “freshies”, she had other rooms in her house, the “brackies” or brackish water types, and her most coveted, the “salties” that room she kept under lock and key since the occupants of that room were worth thousands of dollars each and everything had to be controlled specifically and carefully.

Ethel usually had the laying and hatching process down to a meticulous science, she liked to keep her tanks at a specific temperature for the “incubation” process, where the eggs themselves would incubate at what Ethel had found over the years- was the “perfect” temperature so that almost all the eggs would hatch, the adults would be comfortable, but at the same time, the food she would put into the tanks to feed the micro-mermaids would not rot and attract flies or other scavengers who would try to fly into the house and prey not only on the mico-mermaid’s food but on the micro mermaids themselves.

You were one of the first to hatch, the egg’s shell breaking to allow you to break free as you squirmed out and into your father’s hands before he caught a few of your siblings who did the same before he cooed to you and greeted you happily as you opened your big eyes up at him and snuggled into his chest before he waited for your siblings to get their first and only milk from your mother, that would set up your gut to eat for a lifetime, before you were swapped out with your siblings and once you had your first milk, then you were brought up to the surface to get just a small breath of air so your air bladders would be filled and so you could navigate the whole tank easily before both of your parents touched your head, and the heads of all your siblings to the gold nugget in the tank so that all of you would have golden heads and hair, a trait that both your parents and Ethel prided themselves on.

It also served as a marker for which group you came from, your parents were the “gold standard” of the subspecies of beta-micro-mermaids. And other pairs had different metals or different colored stones so that each pair and their children would have that “mark” to signify which ones came from which parents for future breeding purposes, so that just by looks, they could decipher your genetics instead of having to go to the master gentics manual to decipher it all the time.

Now with the air in your air bladder and your first milk in your system, now your life fully began as you fully woke up and became conscious and thus wriggly and your siblings began exploring the tank as Ethel sprinkled in “baby bits” which was a composite of larve, krill, mackerel, anchovy, feeder-fish as well as algae as you and your siblings happily began “hunting” your first real meal, some of them using the surprise attack, whereas you and a few of your other siblings used the “stalking” method, hiding behind the roots and foliage of the plants at the top of the tank before you “pounced” and grabbed ahold of your favorite little bit and bit down into it, like a big loaf of bread that got softer to eat the more it was in the water as your tiny little teeth helping you eat it as you chewed it and held it between your two tiny hands and swam down back down to the bottom and sat in the soft sandy area, which was affectionately known as “the sand pit” with your other siblings who had hatched within the last few moments as your parents were busy helping the others that were hatching and repeating the process over and over until the whole clutch hatched.

“Well hello there beauties!” Ethel greeted as she waived with a big smile as you looked over and while your first instinct was to freeze and change into the color of your surroundings, to see your parents waiving back seemed to relax the rest of you.

“It’s ok, that’s Ethel, she’s the one who takes care of us and feeds us.” Your parents introduced before you used your tiny hands to waive back like your parents had as Ethel’s smile grew wider and more excited before she sprinkled in more “baby bits” for your siblings that would be hatching in the next few hours before she left and went to her other tanks to check up on the couples and the other clutches of eggs to repeat her process as she then tried to take notes of the other hatchlings and trying to count to see how many had hatched that day and once you were all full, you piled up in the silky soft sand to take your first rest from your first full day.

Since micro-mermaids aged quickly, it was only a few weeks and all of you had grown into playful rambunctious kids, swimming and chasing each other around the tank, building up strength and stamina, Ethel had turned the temperature of the tank down to a cooler temperature to incite your appetite and help you bulk up and gain a layer of fat over your buddening muscle and your parents had given all of you names to keep you accounted for as you learned language and all the various kinds of communication, at this point in time, all of you had the same gold heads and hair but could take on the colors of your surroundings so that some of you took on the sandy color of the “sand pit” or others had taken on the green color of the foliage of the plants that grew in the tank or the colorful geode and if it wasn’t for your gold heads, Ethel would have the hardest time finding any you in the tank besides your parent's who's colors for the most part had "fixed" into permanant colors. Your mother a colorful pearlescent, your father a striking metalic green, blue, purple and black.

The very few eggs that didn’t make it, your parents had given to Ethel to dispose of respectfully so as not to incite cannibalism and in the exchange you each got to touch Ethel's larger, but wrinkled hand and had carressed it as Ethel cooed at you, watching you all fondly and noting each one's unique colors and personality.

You had been one of the ones who liked to play in the foliage and plants at the top of the tank, often leaping out of the water to splash in the water at the top of the tank, a few times, hitting the lid, at first, it was on accident, then it was on purpose, to let Ethel know that you and your family were hungry as Ethel often chuckled at your antics when you would watch her make her rounds and feed the rest of the tanks.

“Who is keeping who here?” She would often chortle as she laid a few pieces of raw mackerel into the tank to watch your parents, you and your siblings, use little shards as "weapons" from the geode as well as little pieces of bones from previous meals to stab and attack the pieces and devour it, often having to fish out the bones out later with her little net. Micro-beta-mermaids had one of the most demanding and specific diets whereas the others wouldn't be so picky. But the better the food now, the better quality the micro-beta mermaid and better health and long life you would enjoy in later life. For Ethel, it was worth the money, time and effort to make sure each little being thrived the best they could.

Ethel's younger "adopted children" who she employed were more tech savy and had cameras set up on Ethel's most beautiful tanks with the more precious and prized occupants and set up a YouTube channel and live feed channels and seeing baby micro-mermaid babies hatch was always popular and Ethel's business boomed.

And while Ethel didn’t have children of her own, she seemed to adopt many who came into the micro-mermaid hobby and you saw many of the same people, most who worked for her would come and check up on Ethel on her days off and bring their children who often stared with big, starry eyes at you and your siblings as well as the others so that all of you got used to seeing different people so that when you would eventually be mated up, being moved into the store front wouldn’t be that big of a deal to you. It had been a tried and true method for Ethel for the last forty years and most followed her excelent example.

Then, one day, a small group fairies broke into the place and roused you from your sleep as you saw the glittering glows move around the room as you left the sleep pile in the sand pit to see what was going on and swam to the top and by now, you had grown big and strong enough to lift the lid as you cracked it open just enough to see better. But that seemed to be just what another was waiting for as you were grabbed and yanked from the tank as you screamed, all the water in your lungs splashing out as you watched in horror as other curious ones had also been yanked from their tanks and were being moved to a large plastic bag with hardly any water in it, as you squirmed and thrashed and took your little stone pick like blade that you always had tucked into the longer scales around your tailfin and stabbed at the vicious creature trying to fly you to the bag as the bag was picked up and several fairies were trying to fly it out of the house.

But your attempts to free yourself from it's grasp worked, it let you go and you thankfully landed onto the back of the other fairy, pick first so as to stab it by the heart, before you bounced off of it’s back into another lid of the tank, this tank being the odds and ends one, but the force of you hitting the fairy, bouncing off the fairy, and hitting the lid- shut the lid to keep anything else from getting in or out and had actually drowned the little vicious fairy trying to steal what it could from that tank and in the darkness, you swam until you felt the gravel of the bottom of the tank and swam until you found the deepest depression, under another cave and hid yourself in the darkness, using it’s dark nature to turn yourself as black as the night’s darkness itself, except for your gold head and hair which you used to hide in the deepest part of the little crevice like cave, moving the gravel around under it to make room for you to ball yourself into.

Come morning Ethel awoke to the horror to see that her home had come under attack as none of the micro-merfolk would come up from the bottom of the tank as she opened all the tanks and once opened the odds and end’s tank to see the drowned fairy floating on the top which caused rage to fill her as she knew that someone or something had incited the fairies of all beings to break in and steal her precious stock as she immediately tried to do some damage control and try to figure out who and what was taken as it seemed each tank had micro-merfolk-children missing because a full adult would have been too big and too strong to steal and would have drowned whoever or whatever might have tried to take them as she went to her other rooms, the brackish room was thankfully locked, but she could see little scratches and claw marks at the doors and especially around the saltwater room. But the freshies were in her livingroom and thus, open to the rest of the house, that’s why it got hit. Almost all the tanks were missing at least one child, the name of each child missing being written in the little bit of algae that had accumalated on the glass since the last cleaning as Ethel used a big magnifying glass to see it and then translate it from the merfolk's language as Ethel just kept crying, her tears streaking down her wrinkled and weathered face and falling onto her reading glasses.

Ethel offered her condolences to the families that lost little ones and made a memorial for the ones who had been taken and fed all the tanks a “funeral” meal, which was the most expensive and most comforting food she could as she made some calls to her friends and business partners and employees, as well as the police to see what could be done as soon the police arrived and detectives arrived along with all of Ethel's friends and neighbors came to give Ethel comfort as the police and investigators tried to document the break in and get statements from everyone about the theft and make notes so that Ethel, who had each and every single one of her micro-merfolk insured, could contact her insurance company and begin the claim process.

Meanwhile Nona had awoken to see a couple of his adopted siblings had been attempted to be taken but something had shut the lid on the fairy so their particular tank had survived from losing anyone. Although with it being the odds and ends tank, not much of really high value was in the tank to begin with. But looking out over to the other tanks in the room, he could see that the other tanks were mourning the loss of their own as the police were there, although they were finishing up the investigation and leaving with the drowned fairy and other pictures as proof of what had happened. But that also meant that they got a whole raw mackerel for the whole tank as everyone was feasting on it while he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, something gold - flashing, catching the light before it disappeared again.

He paused in eating and took off a hunk and went over to where he thought he saw the glint of gold and heard the gravel move under the cave before he got down on his belly and peered into the crevis under cave that was it's own little cave he supposed but he didn’t see anything but black but felt the most subtle pressure wave, as if something was moving around in the crevice under the cave. He took a chance and simply set the hunk of mackerel down at the mouth of the cave and went back a fair distance to see if anything would come out and take it and hid behind the base of one of the plants and waited a few long moments before he could just barely see a small glimmer of gold again, before a small, light sandy colored hand attached to a small goldish sandy colored arm reach out and grab the bit of mackerel before it quickly took it back into the crevice and he could have sworn he heard munching sounds of someone eating it.

He quickly went back to the whole mackerel and tried to swipe a larger piece and carry it back to the crevice and tore it into two pieces and laid one at the mouth again as he slowly chewed on the other half, only he didn’t swim away, instead he sat and tried to peer in to see what was in there before he saw a glimmer of gold then it quickly vanished.

It was definitely another micro-merperson. He just had never seen anyone like it before.

“Hello?” He called into the crevice but you were still too scared to venture any closer.

“Are you ok in there? Are you hurt? What’s your name?” He asked but instead you just tried to sink down into the darkness. The water was different in this tank. It didn’t smell or taste like home. It was foreign to you and you didn’t know what tank you had fallen into. You knew some micro-merpeople did not tolerate intruders and you were afraid that if you ventured out, you would be attacked, you were unarmed and only an elder child, you were no match for an adult or even subadult.

So instead, Nona finished his hunk of mackerel and gently used his colorful tail fin to push the rest of it into the crevice before you took the offered piece and ate that too, not knowing when you would get another chance to eat again.

“See? I’m not gonna hurt you. But I just really want to know if you’re ok. Are you’re ok in there?” Nona asked worriedly as he came in and you backed up as far as you could and tried to make yourself as small as you could, folding up your own billowing fins as small as they could be before he came in and started gently grasping around the crevice for you.

“It’s ok, I promise it’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you.” Nona tried to reassure you as his fingertips grazed your fin and you quickly dove to another corner of the crevice to get away from him, but your movement caused the little bit of light to glint of your golden head and the shimmering black of your body as you moved and Nona could hear your labored breathing as he felt the water move around as you moved and settled again before he found the back of the cave and stretched out his hands as wide as he could and began to go forward again before you dove for the other corner on the other side, this time your outline was shown against the light coming in from the mouth of the crevice and all Nona saw was gold from your head, down your hair before it flowed into a shimmering pitch black again before Nona realized that you were no bigger than he was, in fact you were a little smaller than him and the scent on the water told him you weren’t from this tank, from another but he couldn’t recognize the scent because a clutch had never come into this tank from yours before. You were a kid, obviously from another tank, you must have been dropped in by the fairy, having grabbed you from another tank and trying to grab a second from his own tank.

“My name is Nona, and I’m 22 cycles old and we’re in the odd’s tank. You’re ok, you’re safe, no one is going to hurt you, not in this tank. Ethel’s really good about if there are any bullies, she pulls them out and puts them in the bully tank. You are not in the bully tank so you’re safe. I promise you, you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t hurt you and I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you either.” Nona tried to reassure you as he came forward again as he closed his eyes and focused on the sounds of your breathing and even he could feel your fast heart rate pulse in the small crevice’s water, this time his hands forming an open reaching motion before his hands settled on your face and jaw before he opened his eyes to see two gold ones blinking back at him rapidly as he could feel your fast heart rate stay fast before it eventually started to slow before he chanced a small swipe of his thumbs on the apples of your cheeks as he just stared in awed wonder at you before you finally broke down and flung yourself at him and pinned him down onto the floor of the crevice, clinging to him and crying.

“It was awful, I saw all these pretty moving lights, it was glowing and glittering like the jewels do only it was from on the outside and I swam up to the top of the tank and once I did I was yanked out of the water and my mother always told me to keep a weapon in my tail so I took it and I stabbed at it as much as I could and it dropped me and I hit another fairy and I lost my blade and I fell down and I could feel the other monster that was at the top begin to drown but I just dove down and tried to find the safest spot I could but I didn’t know what tank I’m in and I thought I was in one of the shark tanks and I thought if I left, I was gonna get eaten!” You wailed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and comforted you.

“Do you know what tank you’re from?” He asked.

“No, I just know that my parent’s names are Avarian and Miralia.” You shook your head no.

“Ok, well I’m sure when Ethel cames back for dinner, once she sees you, she’ll know which tank to return you too so you can be with your family.” Nona consoled you.

He had never felt another mergirl’s hair as soft as yours, it was like it was softer than anything he had ever felt before, or felt one who was so young to have hair so as long, it went to your tail and usually only the elder micro-mermaids had hair that long but they kept it in braids to keep it from being tangled. But you were also a bit heavier than most girls would be at your age and your fins were bigger than his! He was a delta guppy micro-merman himself, known for their massive and colorful tails but his own was dwarfed by yours.

“So, what’s your name?” He asked again.

“Chenera.” You sniffled.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Chenera, like I said, my name is Nona.” He repeated.

“Do you know how old you are?” He asked

“I think only 19 cycles, 20, counting today.”

“Ok, so you’re younger than me.” Nona realized.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You’re not hurt or anything?” He asked again.

“I am.” You finally admitted as you could already tell there was bruising all over you and scratches from that vicious fairy’s claws.

“Ok, well do you want to go to the healer or do you want the healer to come to you?” He asked.

“Can they come here? I don’t want to leave.” You admitted.

“Ok, well, stay here then, and I’ll go get them, I’ll be right back ok? Two flicks of a tail.” He reassured you before he gently eased you off of him before you curled in on yourself in the darkness and he got out and raced towards the eldest merperson in the tank, who was especially inept at healing magic.

“I found someone.” He said as he tugged on her arm as she sat and ate the head of the mackerel, the best part of the fish.

“Found who?” She asked.

“The fairy that drowned in our tank, trying to steal the little ones, it was carrying another from another tank, she got away and hid under the big cave where we keep the half clutches. She got really hurt. Her body is all puffy.

“If she’s a goldfish micro- her body should be a little puffy.” She argued.

“She’s not like any other goldfish micro. She’s something I’ve never seen or smelled before.” He insisted.

“She’s hurt, she’s scared, she’s younger than me by a few cycles, she’s in the wrong tank and thinks if she leaves, she’s gonna get eaten. It took a lot just for me to get her to talk to me. Her name is Chenera, and she doesn’t know what tank she’s from. All she knows is her parent’s names. She says she’s hurt, she needs you.” Nona pleaded desperately.

“Ok, ok, I’m coming, I’m coming.” She finally relented before Nona practically dragged her to the mouth of the crevice.

“She must be a young one to fit inside here.” The elder- Thya noted.

“Chenera, I have the healer here, but she can’t fit in there, can you just come to the mouth of the cave so she can see you?” Nona asked before he stuck his upper body inside.

“It’s ok, she’s not going to eat you.” Nona reassured you.

“Here, I wouldn’t introduce you to anyone dangerous. Take my hand, it’s going to be ok.” Nona encouraged as he reached his hand out to you before you tentatively took it and he gently guided you to the mouth before you stuck your head out, your long golden hair suddenly picking up the cross current and being taken away in that.

“Oh my gills.” Thya murmured in awe.

“Hey Chenera was it? Hi, I’m Thya, I’m the eldest mermaid here and the healer of the tank, can you show me what hurts?” She asked.

“My head, and my back and, my arms, and most of my tail, just, everything.” You answered as you looked from her to Nona, back to her worriedly.

“Nona, go get Abaria and Fonta, she’ll need a mother’s touch.” Thya urged Nona but your tightened your grip on his hand ,kept him from going.

“Here darling, take my hand, let him go get some more help, he’ll be right back ok?” Thya offered as she offered her own hand to you before Nona simply put his hand next to hers so it wouldn’t take much for you to let go of him and hold onto her before you hesitantly transferred your hand from Nona’s to hers before he quickly swam away again and came back with three mother looking figures, the two Thya suggested and his own.

“Oh you poor thing! Did that vicious fairy drop you into here?” Abaria asked as she came and sat closest to you as the other mothers crowded around you as you nodded.

“Well you’re in the best tank in the place, we’re all found family here. No one is going to hurt you here. It’s ok to come out. Or are you too hurt to come out?” They asked.

“Come here darling. It’s ok. I know you must miss your mom something awful, but until we get you sorted out, I’m adopting you and I can be your mom until you’re reunited with your other one ok?” Abaria offered before you looked from Abaria back to Nona.

“She’s one of the best moms in the tank besides my own. She’s mom to most of the kids in the tank and she takes care of everyone like she laid the eggs herself.” Nona reassured you before you hesitantly crawled out of the crevice as the others scooted back so that all of you could come out.

“My goodness, how did all of you fit in there?” Thya asked once you were out and your fins unfurled. You had bigger fins than the adults even.

“Like this.” You contracted all your fins until it was just your body and a thin folded fin was behind you.

“You’re a plump little thing aren’t you?” Fonta noted.

“Not any more than any of my siblings, we’re all shaped like this.” You defended, unfurling your fins to cover yourself- self consciously as you pouted under her scruitinging.

“Well that’s good, that means that you and your siblings are well cared for and are fed well. And with a head like yours but a body like yours, it’s hard to know what tank you’re from.” Abaria sighed with an apologetic smile as she pet your head, feeling your silky soft hair before the other kids came around to curiously look to see you, all of them of different ages, some as young as three cycles and some as old as 30, one of the oscar-micro-mermaids, who was 27 cycles, already seeing all he needed to see, you were, in his opinion, the prettiest girl in the tank, therefore, you were going to be his future mate as the other girls in the tank looked at you with both weary suspicion, jealousy and a bit of pity because you clearly didn’t belong in the tank and with as black as you were form the chest down, you stuck out like a sick fin, but with a head and hair like gold, it was still a beautiful combination.

“Who’s that?” They asked.

“The fairy that attacked us last night, took her from her home tank and dropped her in here while they were trying to steal you guys.” Thya answered them.

“She didn’t fall from the fairy that came into our tank, she fell from way higher, like another was carrying her from way higher, she hit the fairy, hit them into the water, bounced off of their back, hit the lid and made the lid close and drowned the fairy, she saved us.” The kids that had been involved offered.

“Oh my gils, is that what happened?” They asked you as you nodded yes as Thya used the glowing of her hands to highlight all your bruises and cuts so that most of body glowed blue from injuries before she went through and healed each one, and noticed that the black then took on a midnight blue appearance, which she had never seen before and puzzled everyone around you.

“Oh you poor baby, come here.” Abaria gathered you into her arms and comforted you, and held you to her chest and gently rocked you comfortingly once your upper body was healed while Thya worked on your tail.

But sadly, Ethel left to go to work before the others could grab her attention. You spent the rest of the day talking to Thya and Abaria about what your tank looked like and what the names of your siblings were as it was clear to them that you were one of the more ‘special’ tanks but because of your coloring, you didn’t look like any of the other tanks that they could see from there.

By night time, though, the automatic feeders fed all the inhabitants of all the tanks and then not long after, the lights shut off, signalling it was time for bed.

But when Ethel came home late, the movement of her and her using the flashlight in her phone to make her way to her bedroom, was too much like the fairy’s light as you quickly squirmed out of the sleep pile and dove for that crevice again, hiding away as she passed and went to bed herself but once again, you were scared of coming out.

Your squirming had caused Nona to wake up again since he was nestled close to you, his hand in yours as his own instincts told him to stay put on the bottom of the tank until the light passed by but when he looked over to see where you had been sleeping with Abaria, her mate and their brood, you were gone but he had a feeling he’d know where to find you.

But the thought of sleeping on the gravel instead of the soft sand just hurt him to think about, so he swam around and collected bits of moss and leaves so he would cover the inside of that crevice so you would have a comfortable place to sleep for the night at least.

“Chenera,” Nona whispered when he came closer.

“Nona?” You asked as your head peeked out and saw him.

“A cave under a cave surrounded by gravel is no place to spend the night. Here, all this should make it a little more comfortable at least.” He offered what he had collected before you smiled gratefully at him, your white pearly teeth and golden head a sharp and beautiful contrast to the darkness before he passed each thing to you before you had Nona come in and help you to move even more of the gravel out of the way and dig down so that there was a deeper and more comfortable depression inside before Nona and you set the leaves down first and used the moss to make something of pillow before you laid down and refused to let go of Nona’s hand.

“Can you please stay here with me?” You asked, your big golden eyes too much for him to resist, even at his relatively young age before he laid down beside you, keeping himself between the mouth of the crevice and you as you cuddled into his chest, your fins wrapping around him as his’ tried to wrap around you in turn as he used his arm as your pillow as your hair was almost like a blanket for both of you as your colors changed again, a dark emerald, shimmering green now with black and gold as you settled down before he soon felt you relax completely and fall asleep before he did the same.

[pedros-mustache-main]

the arrangement

summary: it is all clear and simple—until it isn’t.

word count: 6.6k+ 

warnings: sugar daddy relationship, age gap (john is ~35, reader is ~23), angst, language, innuendo, suggestive themes & moments (not 18+ but be mindful—probably more so than with anything i’ve written!)

a/n: for the sake of this fic, veronica et al. don’t exist. i refuse to write infidelity. okay i hope you enjoy because i am very upset about the cottagecore!brian fic that i wrote which was eaten unceremoniously by the monster living in this website. xoxo!

1986.

he doesn’t kiss you; you won’t let him. 

it’s all a part of the minutiae of your arrangement. he has his rules: a shower before and after—sometimes together, but mostly alone; meetings out of the public eye, normally his london flat; no contact with his colleagues. you have your rules: no outside arrangements with other women (or men, for all you care); no spur-of-the-moment visits; and above all, no kissing.

he can—and does—have a field day with the curves and contours of your body whenever he gets the chance. his mouth knows your skin well, and you’d like to think you know his in a similar fashion. you know what it feels like to be touched and held and loved by him, but his lips have never so much as brushed yours, and you intend to keep it that way. it’s just a quirk, a bothersome little thing you carry with you to all of your arrangements. kissing is too intimate and, though you’ve been more than intimate with john, there’s a line in the concrete you are unwilling to cross. he respects that, so the arrangement works.

you like him. he’s charming and intelligent, thoughtful when it matters. he never forgets a date despite his busy schedule, and he seems to anticipate your moods, knowing just when to spoil you a little extra to ease the pain of a ruined portrait or sour customer. he supports your art endeavors, though you are firm about him staying away from your studio apartment. like kissing, it’s too intimate, too personal. he pays the rent, though, and is admittedly happy when you confess he has inspired a piece or two.

still, he’s confounding. there’s a pervading sadness about his person, even when he’s laughing. it runs deep—that sadness—and you can’t pinpoint the origin. you suspect he must be lonely even though he’s one of the world’s foremost musicians. why else would he dote on you endlessly? why else would he throw his hard-earned money at the feet of a girl too young to be his proper lover and too guarded to ever give him the chance at something real?

not that he’s tried to move the arrangement to something deeper. he hasn’t. for that alone, you’re more than content to stay with him. you’ve had strings of other arrangements before, but never one that’s lasted this long. it always falls apart eventually—unmet expectations, dangerous feelings, the unfortunate death. a year and a half with john is a long time, and you’re surprised he’s not bored with you yet. you’re surprised you aren’t bored with him.

but truly, he is kind and well-off—physically and monetarily—and so long as he’s keen to have you around, you’ll stick around. you aren’t complaining. 

of all your arrangements, you like john richard deacon the most.

he’s been gone for some time, consumed by the magic tour and promoting the latest queen album. he’s tired, ready for a break, and when he calls you a week before his return, you can hear the shoulder-crushing weariness in his tone.

“i’m getting too old for this, [y/n],” he says. 

his sigh is heavy, and it gives you pause. you hold still, the paintbrush between your fingers suspended in midair. you twist on your stool in discomfort. though you know your role—and you play it splendidly—there’s always a flare of uncertainty in the back of your mind when john muses personal. 

you shift, cradling the telephone between your shoulder and your ear. “you’re only thirty-five, john,” you say after a moment. “hardly an old fart.”

“well, i feel one.” something crinkles over the line. “i think we’ll be on break for a good while after this. freddie is—” he sighs again. “when can i see you?”

you can’t help but smile. you dip your head to the side as you study the foot of the angel in your painting. there’s something not quite right, so you lift the corner of your smock and wipe away the top of her big toe. 

you like it when your men are eager; it means they still intend on supplementing your income and leaving you fine gifts. as soon as the eagerness begins to fade, as soon as the meetings are less and less frequent, you know it’s time to look elsewhere. nearly two years later and john is more eager for an evening with you now than he was at the start. you have nothing to worry about.

“when do you get back?”

“thursday.”

“then you can see me thursday.”

he exhales in something that sounds a lot like relief. you bite your lip to keep from smiling wider. he’s wrapped so tight around your pinky; neither of you seem to care. 

“good, good. i’ll bring you something from barcelona. what do you want?”

"hmm. surprise me.”

“you don’t like surprises.”

“you’re right. how about some of those fun little tiles? the colorful ones, y’know?” he hums in agreement. “i can put those in my kitchen.”

“tiles? my baby wants tiles?” he laughs, and you’re thankful for the thousands of miles between you. the affectionate term, spoken normally in jest, sends your thoughts straight to the gutter every time, loathe as you are to admit such a thing. “fine. tiles it is. see you thursday.”

“it’s a date, mr. deacon.” you pause then add, “get some rest, john. you sound knackered.”

“i am.”

“i’ll see you thursday, handsome.”

he says goodnight, wishes you sweet dreams, and hangs up. you drop the phone to its base and sit back, stretching your arms over your head.

the canvas before you is taller than it is wide—twenty-four by thirty-six. the customer, a repeater, requested something angelic and bright, a new addition to their marble villa in the south of greece. you’re happy to oblige, but you’re stuck on the bottom portion. should the angel be in flight? poised on a cliffside? in a garden? you know it doesn’t matter, that the buyer will be happy regardless, but it matters to you. each painting needs to tell a coherent story, and you like for that story to fit well with the piece’s ultimate home.

your mother says you are blessed with a gift by god. john says you have natural talent. you think you’re just good at copying. it’s not forgery; all of your paintings are as unique as they are original. still, you’re excellent at replicating dead-and-gone styles: renaissance, rococo, romantic, hell even the odd modern piece. whatever the customer wants, you can reproduce it for a fraction of the cost. your work pays handsomely, but averaging only one painting a year doesn’t pay all the bills that pile up on your kitchen island over the months. that’s where john comes in. it evens out in the end, with more than enough on the side to play with.

rising from your stool for a much needed break, you cross the concrete floor, the stone cool beneath your bare feet. the evening has gone drafty, so you shut one of the tall windows looking onto the side garden. you pick up your mail from beneath the flap on the front door and rifle through. nothing urgent, though there’s a letter from your mother. you tuck it to the side.

john would detest your studio if he ever saw it. it’s unfeeling, bare bones and vaulted ceilings and exposed beams. most of the open floor plan is used for your painting endeavors. there’s discarded portraits along the wall, a few untarnished canvases tucked in a corner. there’s a worktable that doubles as a kitchen table, and a cramped kitchen shoved beneath the loft which houses your bed and wardrobe. you don’t mind the gray walls and gray floors and metal and lack of personal touches. if anything, the simplicity allows your creativity to explode.

after a piece of jam and toast for supper, you return to your painting. the angel should be on a cliffside overlooking the sea, you decide; after all, her home will soon be greece. dipping your brush to the mixture of tan and dark brown you’ve been using for her skintone, you curl a leg beneath you and set to work. only this time, you struggle to keep the excited smile from your face.

john’s coming home. you missed the bastard—him and his money.

thursday evening you find yourself on john’s front stoop, fist poised to knock on the door. the dress beneath your coat is silky, like water against your skin. you feel underdressed for the turn of the season but you’re likely to be without clothing entirely within the hour so you grit your teeth against the chill on your legs. you clear your throat, adjust the curled ends of your hair, and knock on the door. the bottle of champagne in your hand grows heavy as you wait, and you finger the small string of diamonds around your neck. 

john inhales through his nose sharply when he opens the door. “[y/n],” he breathes before sweeping you into a tight embrace.

you laugh, crushed against his chest, your arms snug around his shoulder. he smells clean, like soap and fresh tea. you lift your legs, giggling further as he spins you about the rowhouse foyer.

“okay, okay!” you squeal. “put me down!”

he drops you to the floor, your heels clicking against the hardwood. “let me take your coat,” he says, sliding behind you to remove your outer layer. you shimmy out of the garment and bite you lip on a smirk when he sucks in a breath through his teeth. 

“like it?” you ask, twirling on the ball of your foot in a slow circle. your dress—pale pink, short and open in the back—leaves little to the imagination.

“you’re a sight for sore eyes, angel.” 

he steps away from the coatrack to circle his arms around your waist. he settles his hands in the curve of your spine and drinks you in, his pupils expanding with appreciation. you preen under his gaze and rest your palms on his brightly patterned shirt. you never tire of this—no matter who your benefactor is. the glazed look in their eye when they see you wearing a necklace newly bought or sporting a handbag of your choice or simply pushed against their strength is intoxicating. you feel powerful and desirable and unstoppable all at once.

“missed you.” john lifts a hand to brush a lock of hair away from your face, and the gesture is decidedly intimate. it sends a chill down your spine, your mouth tightening. you know if this were any other relationship he would bend forward and capture your lips, marking you as his and erasing the weeks apart with a single touch. you know he’s fighting the urge to do so now; you can see it in the way his eyes flick to your mouth and hold there.

to ease his yearning, you wind your arms around his neck and squeeze him tight, curling your fingers in the base of his recently trimmed perm. you like the fluff; it’s quirky—like him. “missed you, john.” you kiss the corner of his jaw and pull away, trailing to the kitchen.

he’s hot on your heels.

lifting your rump onto the kitchen island, you cross your ankles and grin as he enters the room. “did you bring me my tiles?” 

john blinks, as if he’s not sure what you’re talking about, but then recognition lights his eyes, and he snaps in remembrance. “ah yes, the tiles! hold on.” he slips into an adjoining room before returning with a brown box tied with a white ribbon. “here.”

you take the box, smile at him where he leans against the counter opposite you, and tear off the string. within the box there’s a small index card covered in john’s neat script. you lift it and meet his eyes again; there’s a faint blush on his cheeks as you read aloud.

“[y/n], i thought you deserved something better than a few titles. love, john.” lowering the card to your side, you push back the tissue paper to see a framed pencil sketch of a woman mid-gown fitting. the seamstress is crouched against the floor, her back to the viewer. the woman being fitted is twisted, glancing over her shoulder as the seamstress works, her reflection visible in an invisible mirror. you squint and push your nose to the corner then nearly drop the frame to the floor.

your head snaps up so fast it cracks. “john, you didn’t.”

he just beams, nodding.

tucked in the right hand corner of the sketch is the artist’s signature, a signature you know well. mary cassatt. 

“got it in paris,” he explains. “thought you could use an original from your favorite.”

you brush your fingertip along the signature and feel the sting of tears beneath your eyelids. of all the gifts you been handed—holidays in rome, designer bags and jewelry, luxury rides to and from the city—this, this, is the best. part of you hates the sudden rush of emotion that spreads through your chest, but you allow the feeling to take hold, opening your arms to him. he steps between your legs, and you curl yourself around his body.

“thank you, john,” you whisper. your voice is muffled by the fabric of his shirt, but the way he presses his hand against your shoulder blade tells you he heard you loud and clear. 

he hums against the crook of your neck. the vibrations tickle your throat, and you flush. you draw back, far enough to meet his gaze, but close enough to feel his breath against your face. 

god, you could kiss him.

the thought strikes you like a bolt of lightning, and you resist the urge to gasp. you’ve never thought it before; the rule of no kissing is ingrained in you so deep the mere idea of breaking it sends you for a loop. but there he is—generous and gorgeous and yours. he knows you well, spoils you well, and all he asks is you entertain him in return. 

how did you get to be so lucky?

clearing your throat, you brush past him to hop off the counter. you tug the hem of your dress down a smidgen and touch his shoulder. “want me to go shower?” you ask, cocking your head toward the bathroom.

he turns to face you and shakes his head. “no.” his arms are around you again, as if it pains him to keep his distance for a moment too long. you can feel it in the thrum of his heart against your ribcage. you swallow hard.

your brow pinches in a frown. “but you—”

his mouth is already tracing the lines of your neck, warm and wet and dizzying. he grips your hip, his fingertips pressing through the satin of your dress. “forget it, [y/n]. i’ve missed you,” he whispers, a tattoo on your skin. “come to bed.”

“but the sho—”

he pulls back and lifts a hand to grasp your chin. the touch is not angry, not possessive; it’s just firm. the words in your mouth dry up, and you meet his gaze with wide eyes. “i said forget it.”

you nod, mute.

his eyes lower to your mouth. his tongue darts out to swipe his lower lip.

he steps away, his fingers trailing down your arm until they circle your wrist. he leads you through the house, silent, until you reach the foot of his bed. moonlight washes through the open terrace doors. a misty rain drifts into the room, bringing with it a chill and a whisper of autumn.

you toe off your heels, run your finger down his grecian nose, over his straight jaw. there’s this feeling in your stomach, one you can’t quite place. it’s a mixture of contentment and nerves, joy and apprehension, all at once. it’s a foreign feeling, and there’s no time to dissect it as john leans close. 

his nose nudges yours. “i missed you.”

you sigh, wistful, and pull him onto the bed.

come morning you are sated and sore. you groan through a stretch, curling your back like a cat as you adjust to the morning light. you slept well, better than you have in several weeks. you can’t be sure if the dreamless slumber was due to exertion from your evening activities or pure tranquility. you missed sleeping beside john; he has a comforting way about him, even in the throes of pleasure or sleep.

you turn your face to see john already wake, propped up against a pile of pillows. you grin and reach for him.

“morning,” you mumble on a yawn.

he blinks contentedly at you, a half-smile on his mouth, a lit cigarette between his fingers. “morning.”

“sleep well?”

he nods. “that was the most sleep i’ve gotten in weeks.”

with a chuckle, you pinch his bicep. “funny—i thought the same for myself.”

he pats the space beside him, and you shuffle to lie perpendicular to his body, your head on his bare chest. he drapes an arm across your torso, and you lift his hand to fiddle with his long fingers.

the terrace door is still open, allowing mid-morning warmth and the gentle hum of the street below to fill the room. you sigh and smile when john takes a drag of his cigarette and tilts his head to exhale in the opposite direction. he knows you hate the smoke, thoughtful boy. 

when he turns back, he catches your eye, furrowing his brow as he studies the look on your face. “what?”

you shake your head. “nothing.”

he grunts, shifts a little lower along the pillows. “tell me about the paintings you’ve got going in that pretty head of yours.”

“just one for the moment—an angel near the sea. it’s for the olsons and their villa in greece.”

“olson? wasn’t he the one who bought that nudie fashioned after his wife?”

“precisely the one!”

john smirks. “how’d you feel if i had you paint something like that for me?”

you guffaw, flipping over onto your stomach to slap his breastbone. “john!”

he holds up his hands in surrender, though there’s a mischievous twinkle in his gray eyes. “oy! it’s just a thought!”

you huff. “continue like that and i won’t finish the painting i’ve started for you.”

he leans back against the pillows in surprise. his neck is contorted in the effort it takes to properly meet your eyes as he sits, and you poke the double-chin that’s popped up beneath his jaw. he swats your hand away, though his fingers wrap tight around your wrist. he presses his pointer finger against your pulse point.

“you’ve started a painting for me?”

“course i have. don’t sound so surprised.”

“what’s it of?”

you narrow your gaze. “don’t know if i should tell you. it’s supposed to be a birthday gift.”

“my birthday’s not for a while, [y/n].”

“my paintings take a while, john.”

he sighs, squeezes your wrist, lifts it to kiss the bone on the side of your hand. “tell me,” he mumbles, his mouth against your skin, eyes locked on yours.

on an inhale, you give in. “it’s victoria park. well, victoria park seventy-five years ago.”

his eyebrows rise, and his fingers tighten around your hand. “victoria park? my victoria park? from leicester?”

“where else, silly?”

he goes quiet. 

the air in your lungs stills, and that funny feeling you had the night before flares in your stomach. you feel your jaw slacken as he rakes his gaze over you in such unabashed adoration it makes your gut twist. there’s an overwhelming desire to be near him, to feel him as you’ve never felt him before, rising like the tide, and you are pulled to it like a baby sea turtle searching for the safety of the ocean. it’s a natural pull, but you are determined to ignore it. 

you sit up, brush a lock of hair behind your ear, and turn your back to him. 

he runs his finger along the curve of your shoulderblades. you shiver. 

sensing your discomfort, john sits straight in bed, the covers around his lap rustling with the movement. “you know,” he says, pulling on his cigarette again. “freddie would like one of your paintings.” 

“what?” you look over your shoulder with a frown. “you told him about me?” 

he shakes his head. “no, i just mean what you do is his style. he’d be thrilled to have something so… romantic.” he pauses and lifts a brow in question. “i could mention it to him, ask if he’d be interested?” 

your frown deepens. this is not the john you know. john rarely speaks about his bandmates, preferring to keep his exploits with queen separate from your arrangement. when he does talk about his job, it’s normally a complaint here, a silly little story there. though you’ve been with him more than a year, you know more about his life before queen than his life during. he’s private, like you, and you respect that. it’s why your arrangement works: mutual respect for the other’s boundaries. 

but there’s something different about him. you noted it the night before. first no shower. now suggesting he introduce you to freddie. it doesn’t make sense. 

or maybe it does. maybe this is his way of shifting the relationship, subtly, under your nose, done before you realize what’s happened. 

a thread of panic weaves itself around your spine. 

“what’s this about? you’ve never wanted me to meet freddie before.” 

he shrugs, playing innocent. “just an idea. we’re on break now, will be for some time. i figured meeting you would give freddie something to fuss over.” 

“you know how i feel about my studio, john.” 

“i know, i know. you like your privacy.” 

john stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray on the bedside table then scoots closer, drawing you close with an arm around your waist. his mouth works idle patterns along your shoulder, the spot where your neck meets your back, the ticklish spot behind your ear. 

you tighten your hold on his arm, your nails biting his skin. when you speak, your voice is but a whisper. 

“i don’t want things to change.” 

he stills, lifting his head from your skin. “sorry?” 

“i said i don’t want things to change.” turning, you meet his eyes, nearly losing your breath in the process. he’s close; you can practically taste him on your lips. “what we have works. don’t you think?” 

“’s just an idea, [y/n].” 

ducking your head, you play with the hair on his arm. your heart squeezes tight. “i know. but i say yes now and tomorrow you’ll be…” you lift your face. 

he seems to understand without needing you to finish the thought. 

he untangles himself and swings his legs over the side of the bed. you watch his movements, stiff and irritated. he pulls on a pair of ratty joggers, rising from the bed to shut the terrace doors. you startle at the sound of glass rattling in the windowpanes. 

“john, i—” 

he cuts you off. there’s another cigarette between his fingers now. “better take a shower,” he quips. his eyes remain planted on the cigarette packet in his hands. he taps the thin stick against the cardboard several times before jamming it between his teeth. “you didn’t take one last night, and we wouldn’t want things to change, now would we?” 

the door slams shut, the blast echoing in your empty stomach.

you don’t hear from john for a week and a half. it’s not uncommon, the length between visits. he’s busy, you’re busy. sometimes you can barely find time for yourself, let alone him. still, there’s no box of chocolates delivered to your doorstep, no flowers dropped off at an inopportune time. 

there’s just silence. 

it worries you at first, and you wonder if he’s dropped you like a hot potato. it wouldn’t be unheard of. one arrangement ended in a similar fashion, and you nearly lost your studio in the process. but john is better than that. he wouldn’t leave you on the verge of homelessness, would he? he cares about you too much to do such a thing. 

your fears are assuaged when a bouquet of flowers does arrive one afternoon. you have paint smeared along your forehead, and your neck cracks as you stand to answer the doorbell, but the sight of sunflowers in a pretty blue vase erases all your uncertainties. the note tucked in the ramble of flowers makes you smile—sorry for being a dick. give me a call if you forgive me – j—and you tape it to your refrigerator. 

john is still yours; you are still his. 

you call him that night, and after reaffirming your boundaries, the phone call devolves into a mess of heavy breathing and whispered encouragements and sinful sorts of pleasure. 

as you fall asleep, you’re struck by something he said in the hazy cloud of post-bliss: even if this is all you give me, i’m happy. 

even if this is all you give me… 

he wants more. how much you aren’t sure, but enough that you can’t fall asleep as readily as you normally do. frustrated, you slip from bed and finagle your way down the stairs to the kitchen. you warm a glass of milk and lean against the counter, sipping slowly. your eyes fall along the mary cassatt print, now housed on the kitchen wall above the vase of sunflowers. the milk in your stomach curdles. 

john deacon loves you; and if you tarry any longer, you’ll be close to loving him, too.

the decision to call the arrangement off does not come lightly. you mull over it for days on end, even as a sliver of your heart warms to the idea of allowing john to love you as he pleases, of letting yourself love him back. 

it’s all you can think about the next time you see him face-to-face. as he pours you a glass of wine and lays you out on the living room floor, your thoughts are elsewhere. when he takes you shopping for canvas frames, you let him hold your hand, but you can’t focus on what he’s saying about the best fit. even when he mentions your studio and you find yourself willing to invite him inside, you cannot shake the feeling that you are losing a part of yourself you will never regain. 

but would it be so bad? giving in? 

you’re interested in john, that much you will concede. he’s good and kind and generous and a hell of a good romp and you enjoy your time with him. but the stubborn part of you refuses to let go of your own autonomy. you will not become his plaything, his arm candy at all the queen functions he so dreads. you value your independence too much—the safety of your well-crafted walls—to be anything other than his dirty little secret. 

you’re prepared to shove your concerns aside and continue on until john makes the decision for you. he gives freddie your studio address, and freddie shows up one morning unannounced. you invite him in, sketch out a painting over the worktable, smile when necessary, and ignore his wonderings about your connection to john but on the inside you’re reeling. you’re livid and you’re hurt. 

you’ve never been hurt by one of your arrangements before. 

after freddie leaves, john answers the telephone on the third ring. “hello?” 

“we can’t see each other anymore,” you say, your voice firm. 

he’s quiet for a moment. “i’m sorry—what?” 

“you heard me, john. i’m calling it all off.” 

“why on earth would you do that?” 

unbidden, an answer rises to your mouth: because i think i like you as much as you like me and i’m scared.

with a harsh clearing of your throat, you instead say, “you sent freddie here. i told you not to do that.” 

“he did what? no, [y/n], i didn’t send freddie to you.” 

“then how else would he know who i am? my clients don’t run in his circles.” 

panic laces the edge of john’s voice as he rushes to explain, but you grit your teeth against the sound. “i swear, angel, i didn’t tell him where you live. i might have told him about you, yeah, but he’s my best friend, and i needed some advice.” he hesitates, sucks in shaky breath. “don’t do this. don’t call it off.” 

you swallow hard. for the first time in a long time, you feel a wash of tears over your eyes. “you want too much from me, john. i can’t give you what you want. i’m not the girl for that sort of life.” 

“oh, baby, i—i’m sorry. i know i’ve been pushy lately but i—” he sighs. “god, i love you so dearly. i’d give you the world if you let me.” 

at this you choke on a sob. surprised by the sound, you press a hand to your mouth. 

oh god, you love him too. the feeling crashes over you like a wave, and you’re the sea turtle who has found the safety of the sea. john is your sea. he envelops you, carries you to safety and uncertainty all at once. but you know him—he will protect you, guide you, with everything he is and all that he has. 

you love him, you love him, you love him. 

but it’s not enough. it’s not supposed to go like this, and you both know it. 

“i’m sorry, john,” you whisper. you didn’t remember that tears taste salty. “please don’t call me, okay?” 

you hang up before you can hear his protests any further then you crawl into bed and weep.

several months pass. autumn fades into winter, and you grow colder by the day. 

you’re stressed. you cut john off entirely, opening a separate bank account and shuffling your monies and generally working to disentangle him from your life. but no john means no stable income. you’re fine for the time being, your painting for the olsons paid for and gone; but you’ve taken to rushing your artwork now, allowing customers to sit for hastily and poorly arranged portraits with their dogs and children. the paintings are lovely, yes, but they’re not you. it pays the bills, though, so you can’t complain. 

you continue on freddie’s painting. he paid you upfront, so you owe him that much. in the evenings, after shooing the last snot-nosed kid and yippy dog out of your home, you turn on the lamp above the canvas and return to the sort of art you yearn for day and night. the painting screams freddie mercury all over. 

there’s a man, mustached and tan, draped against a purple chaise in the center of the canvas. he’s flanked by a tall gentleman with wiry hair who is focused on a globe in the corner. to the far right, two other men—one blond, one brunette—whisper amongst themselves. you realize, belatedly, that you are painting queen in some sort of ridiculous nineteenth century daydream. it makes you snort every time you sit down to work. 

you struggle to capture john in the painting. you know his face better than you know your own. you dream of it every night and wake to an image of it every morning. 

you love him. you miss him. 

you’re not certain when you started loving him. maybe six months in when he took you to new york and the moma and the empire state building. maybe nine months in—your first christmas together—when he gifted you a song. maybe a year in when he confessed his deepest fears—fears of loneliness and isolation and an empty old age—and made you promise to stay by his side. maybe when he came back this last tour and you wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt to hold back. 

you’ve never been in love. you don’t quite understand the way it works, but you know enough to know that you love him. perhaps you always will, your disco deaky, the thoughtful boy. 

you finish freddie’s painting come the first of the year. it’s been four months without john, four months entirely on your own. you have no compunction to find another arrangement. no one could fill the shoes of john deacon even if they tried, and the idea doesn’t appeal to you like it once did. you’ll go it alone for a while and revel in the autonomy you so desire. 

freddie invites you to dinner when you call and say the painting is ready, and you reluctantly go. you’re half afraid he’ll pull some trick and invite john as well, but he swears he’ll be on his best behavior. the night of the dinner, you dress warm and gently arrange the framed canvas in the boot of your car. after losing your way twice, you eventually find his house and park outside. jim helps you carry the painting through the tight gate and into the front parlor where freddie waits, hands clasped in excitement. 

“oh, i could just piss myself i’m so thrilled!” freddie squeezes your shoulders when you unveil the completed work. “i look so divine, like bloody oscar wilde!” 

the edges of a smile lift your mouth. “yes, divine indeed.” 

“you are more talented than you know, [y/n],” freddie says. he boops the end of your nose. “you shouldn’t hide your talent.” 

“i don’t! i sell my work.” 

“yes, but you could be a star, darling. i could make you a star.” 

“i don’t want to be a star, freddie.” 

“then what do you want?” 

you sigh, shrug, and curl your lips in a wry grin. “not sure anymore.” 

“perhaps dinner will help you figure it out. come on, it’s ready and we don’t want it getting cold.” 

you follow freddie to the dining room. what awaits you sends your blood running cold as the frost outside. john richard deacon, handsome as ever, sits at the table, a smoke in hand. he looks up when you enter, surprise painting his face at the sight of you bundled in a winter coat in his friend’s dining room. 

you twist in the doorway. your fists tremble with rage. “fuck you, freddie!” 

he cringes. “okay, i can explain. you just have to hear me out before you slit my throat.” 

john rises to his feet. “[y/n]…” 

you ignore him and keep your gaze on freddie. “you promised!” 

freddie nods. “yes, i know, but you see it was my fault that this whole thing fell apart.” 

at this, john turns his head. “what are you on about, fred?” 

“well, when you told me about your relationship with [y/n]”–-he lowers his voice to a stage whisper, looking at you from the corner of his eye—“when you told me you loved her”—he returns to his normal voice—“i got very distracted by the idea of a painting of the four of us. so i ignored your issue and looked her up and then it all fell apart.���

john sucks in a deep breath, shaking his head. he runs a hand down his face, and you note the weariness etched along his eyes. “fuck, fred.” 

“so, you see, it’s my fault. if i had just left well enough alone, you two might still be shagging like rabbits and spending all that hard-earned money instead of moping like a pair of silly-pants!” he sobers, his nose twitching. “i really am sorry. it was selfish of me.” 

“freddie—” you start. 

he shakes his head. “no! i won’t hear any excuses—not until you’ve made up.” a timer somewhere in the kitchen dings, and he snaps. “now… if you’ll excuse me…” he slips from the dining room, shutting the door behind him with a tell-tale click. 

you look to the floor. you should get your winter boots polished. they’re horribly scuffed. 

john speaks first. “you look good, [y/n].” 

lifting your head, you scoff. “you always were a flatterer.” 

“no, i mean it.” 

you run your eyes over him and feel your heart trip. god, you missed him. “you look good, too.” 

“what have you been doing?” 

“oh, this and that. mostly painting portraits.” 

“you hate portraits.” 

“i know.” 

outside, the cricks chirp loudly, but you wonder if john can heart the beating of your heart over the chorus of insects. 

“[y/n], i—” 

“john—” 

he smirks. you look to your toes again. 

“you go first,” he says. 

lifting your head, you dare to step further into the room. you steel yourself, biting the inside of your tongue to keep from spilling your guts at his feet. “i was wrong, too.” 

he cocks his head to the side in confusion. “what do you mean?” 

it’s time, isn’t it? seeing him now... how could you ever live without him?

“i was foolish and stubborn and willful. i knew what i wanted, but ignored it for the sake of my own stupid ideals.” you step closer and catch a whiff of his cologne. it sends a thrill straight to your belly. “turns out i need people just as much as you do.” 

“what are you saying?” 

“i’m saying i was wrong to turn you away. i was scared. i’ve only ever known love with a price tag on it, never real love. not until you anyway. as complicated as it is, you have loved me better than anyone else, and i was blind to it for so long. and even when i wasn’t blind to it, i pushed you away. i’m sorry.”

he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing. “what—what are you saying?” he asks again.

“i’m saying i miss you and i’m a right git and i love you and i’m sorry.” 

he reaches for you, his touch like fire on your wrist. “i shouldn’t have pushed you.” 

you shake your head in disagreement. “i needed a good pushing. i didn’t realize how much i needed you until you were gone. and fuck all about the money. i don’t care about that. i needed you. i need you.” 

john moves his hands to cup your face, his palms warm on your cool cheeks. he leans downs and presses his forehead to yours. you exhale, sure that if you open your eyes, if you move an inch, you will wake from whatever dream you inhabit. you don’t want this moment to end—him and you and no one else, all the possibility in the world stretching out before you. 

“you don’t know what it means to hear you say that,” he whispers. “i would be content to love you silently, but, god, i love you.” 

you laugh and open your eyes, blinking back tears. you pull away to meet his gaze. “even though i’m a stubborn fool?” 

“i’m more stubborn and more foolish than you ever could be.” his thumbs work over the apple of your cheeks. “i love you,” he breathes. 

“i love you.” 

you grin. he matches your smile. 

“kiss me,” you whisper. 

his eyes widen, his mouth parting. “but—” 

“it’s part of our new arrangement. you can kiss me whenever you like so long as you promise not to smoke in bed.” 

“fuck. i—” he shakes his head, eyes fluttering shut. you lift a hand to his cheek, and his eyes open. 

“i know. me too.” 

he captures your mouth, the touch soft and everything you have waited to find, everything you have searched for in all the wrong places. he kisses you, holds you against his body, weaves his hand in your hair. he moves his lips in tandem with yours, and you feel like you’re floating. 

he kisses you, and you are home.

[germanicseidr]

Frisians

We are picking up from where we left off on my post about the Frisii. The Frisians were a germanic tribe/kingdom located in modern day Frisia, Noord-Holland, Zuid-Holland, Zeeland, Utrecht, Groningen, Drenthe and Overijssel in the Netherlands, east-Frisia in Germany and north-Frisia in Denmark. They are the oldest Germanic culture that still exist until this very day with their own unique history, flag, traditions and language.

During the great migrational period, which also marks the end of the iron age and the start of the medieval age, new settlers, mostly Saxons, settled themselves in former Frisii territory. Most of the Frisii had abandoned their homeland and migrated either southwards or to the west to Britannia. Only a very few Frisii remained in their homeland, too little to continue their population.

Around the 5th century AD these migrants were now settled properly and called themselves Frisians. They quickly turned their homeland into a powerful seafaring nation now bordered by the Christianized Franks to the south and the still pagan Saxons to the east, the Frisians were still pagan as well. By 500AD they were possibly the most powerful sea power in western Europe, a power they gained from their long history of sailing and trading.

Since the collapse of the Western Roman empire, the economy in western Europe was in a very sad state. Poverty and hunger were considered to be normal while ancient Roman settlements started to decay and slowly disappear. Between 300-500AD, trade was pretty much dead and time appeared to have stopped moving for the people in western Europe. This all eventually changed thanks to the Frisians who were able to restore trade routes and opened up a path for the now so famous vikings.

During the late 6th century, the Frisians set up wide-spread trading routes all across the north sea, east sea and the Rhine area. In all of these trading areas, settlements grew like cabbage thanks to the wealth that these Frisian traders brought, settlements like: Ipswich in England, Ribe in Denmark and Medemblik in the Netherlands. Already existing settlements such as London and Dorestad grew thanks to this trade. Dorestad, a city which was located in modern day Utrecht, the Netherlands, even became the most important trade hub of western Europe, it was also the capital of the Frisian kingdom.

The Frisians were in fact so dominant in their trade that the term Frisian became a synonym for trader in many Germanic languages until around 1000AD. Curiously enough, many of the trading settlements were not fortified with walls or forts, the 6th and 7th century were relatively peaceful times. It was also the Frisians who reintroduced the concept of money in the form of sceatta coins. The word sceatta itself is Frisian for treasure. Archeologists have found these sceatta coins all around the North sea coast, England, Denmark, Germany and the Netherlands. These sceattas were based on earlier Roman coins. So you can thank the Frisians for the fact that we use money instead of the old trading system.  

So what did the Frisians trade exactly? They traded both luxery goods and more mundane goods per example: Fabrics, skins, pottery, metal, cattle, fish, flesh, salt, wine, dairy products, fur, milling stones and even walrus, sea lion and reindeer products which they got from the far North in Scandinavia. They also traded in human lives because the slave trade was a lucrative business and slaves were essential for the early medieval economy.

Who ruled the Frisians? It is not known when the Frisian tribe turned into a kingdom but we do have written sources of some of the earliest Frisian kings. The oldest yet quite unreliable source comes from the epic poem Beowulf which mentions Finn Folcwalding as the first king of the Frisians. It is however doubtful if Finn actually really existed since Beowulf is not exactly a reliable historical source. According to the Poem, Finn was the son of Folcwalding and married a Danish princes, Hildeburh.

Here is a quote from the Beowulf poem: "The warriors returned then to seek their houses, bereft of friends, to see Frisia, their homes and high fort yet Hengest the death-stained winter spent with Finn, in a place with no fellowship at all; he remembered his land, though he could not drive on the sea the ring-prowed ship: the sea welled in storm, fought against the wind, the winter locked the waves in icy bonds, until came another year to the courtyards, as it still does now, those which continuously carry out their seasons, gloriously bright weathers." Beowulf

The first Frisian king of whom's existence we actually got archeological evidence, is king Audulf, who ruled Frisia between 600-630AD. The most famous Frisian ruler however is king Redbad/Radboud who ruled Frisia from 690-719AD. His story is recorded by the Franks, the enemy of the Frisian kingdom. According to these records, Redbad refused to convert to Christianity exclaiming that he would rather spent an eternity in hell with his ancestors than to go to heaven.

It was also under Redbad's rule that the Frisian kingdom reached its peak. The Frisians and Franks were continuously at war with each other as the Franks tried to expand their empire. Not only did the Franks aspire to add more land to their already massive empire, they wanted to convert the Frisians to Christianity as well which they eventually did with quite some violence. Bonifatius and Willibrord were send to Frisia with orders to built churches and convert the local people.

Bonifatius started to chop down sacred trees throughout Frisia, oak trees which were dedicated to Donar, which were used not only for religious purposes but also for judicial purposes. This angered the Frisians greatly and eventually the mob turned against Bonifatius killing him and his followers out of anger and revenge.

Redbad managed to keep Frisia largely pagan until his death in 719AD. After his death, the Frisian kingdom was quickly conquered by the Franks who divided the kingdom into three parts, East-Frisia, Middle Frisia and West-Frisia. One thing I want to mention is that there is a very popular post going around the internet saying that Redbad is the last Frisian king, this is however not true. The last Frisian king was Poppo who ruled Frisia between 719-734AD. It was during Poppo's reign that Frisia was conquered by the Franks, perhaps the reason why most people conveniently leave him out of history.

By the year 734AD, the Frisians were now largely converted to Christianty but some pagans still remained. The latest pagan burial dates back to around 1000AD and some pagan habits like placing offerings in moors and swamps continued on well into the 18th century. It took a very long time before the Frisians accepted Christianity, almost 1000 years before the Christian faith fully got its hold in even the smallest settlements.

Not only Frisia was conquered and converted by the Franks, the Saxons were also invaded by them which led to the Saxon wars which took place between 772-804AD. These wars eventually led to the destruction of the Irminsul and the forcible conversion to Christianity. Countless of pagans were murdered for refusing to convert. The Frisians provided military support for the Saxons in their uprising but it sadly failed. With the arrival of the 9th century, continental Germanic paganism has almost completely died with the exception of Denmark.

The Frisians were no longer independent and by 839AD, the reign of Frisian counts began. During the 9th century, the Frisian territory, now part of Lotharingia, was repeatedly attacked by the vikings. Thanks to the vikings, the Frisians lost their status of the most powerful seafaring nation and an age of terror began. Dorestad, former capital of the Frisian kingdom, was raided several times by the vikings until the city eventually slowly died. It was rediscovered in 1842 during archeological research conducted by L.J.F Janssen, conservator of the rijksmuseum van Oudheden in Leiden.

Since the Christianization of Frisia went so slowly, many of its people still believed in the Germanic Gods by the time the vikings were active. After the passing of Louis the pious, king of the Franks, in 840AD, a power struggle broke out between his three sons which resulted in devastating civil wars. The Frisians, who are genetically and culturally identical to the Danes, decided to stop defending their territories from Danish raiders and so Frisia fell in the hands of Danish rulers. The Frisians and Danes actually had good relationships with each other as their culture and religion were the same. It is believed that many Frisians turned viking as well and joined the Danes in their viking raids.

Eventually the viking raids stopped but the Frisians, now known as the West-Frisians, continued their good relationships with Denmark, a friendship which continued for many centuries as Holland and Denmark later united to battle the Swedes, in fact this friendship still endures until this very day and was recently celebrated between both governments.

The counts of West-Frisia, who governed on behalf of the Holy Roman Emperor, ruled over the area which was formally part of the Frisian kingdom, modern day Noord-Holland, Zuid-Holland, Friesland, Groningen, Drenthe, Utrecht and east-Frisia. The first known count is Dirk I who governed over Frisia between 916-928AD. This line of counts continued until count Dirk V of West-Frisia declared himself as count of Holland and so the province of Holland was born.

The climate of Europe changed again between 800-1200AD, the medieval warm period had begun. This eventually led to a gigantic flood, the Sint-Lucia flood, which created the Zuiderzee and separated West-Frisia from East-Frisia. Eventually east-Frisia became known as simply Frisia but West-Frisia, now reduced to an area connected to Holland, continued to exist under its former name. The remaining part of West-Frisia refused to join Holland which resulted in the West-Frisian wars which lasted around 160 years.

West-Frisia was eventually absorbed into Holland by count Floris V during the late 13th century after series of battles and a mass slaughter committed by the Hollanders on West-Frisian men, women and children. Even though West-Frisia is nowadays part of Holland, they still remain their own unique identity, anthem, flag and dialect. the province of Holland grew into the most powerful province of the low lands and eventually revolted against their Spanish overlords in 1568, a struggle now known as the 80 years war for Dutch independence which resulted in the free republic of the united provinces in 1648, the creation of the Netherlands as a united land.

Meanwhile east-Frisia, now known as Frisia, continued to resist against every power that tried to conquer the territory. Frisia became an independent territory around the year 1000AD and continued to be independent until they decided to join the Dutch revolt against the Spanish. Frisia joined the union of Utrecht and became part of the Dutch republic and still continues to be part of the Netherlands until this very day although some Frisians want to reclaim their independence again.

I am sorry for this long post on the history of the Frisians but they have a very long history that deserves to be told since they greatly influenced all of Europe and are the oldest still existing Germanic culture of Europe.

Here are images of: a map showing Magna Frisia, the Frisian kingdom at its peak. An image of king Redbad/Radboud, Frisian traders, artist unknown, A map of the Frisian trade network, Frisian sceatta coins with a depiction of Wodan, a map showing West-Frisia before the formation of Holland, A photo that I took myself of West-Frisian remains badly maimed by soldiers of Holland during the West-Frisian wars, Current territory of West-Frisia, map showing present day Frisia and east-Frisia

[yungidreamer]

Growth

Summary: Yunho, Mingi, and their girl take a trip to the botanical gardens and encounter things that make them think of the past and see a hope in their future together.

Wordcount: 5.7k

Content warnings: Mention and talk of injuries from the encounter between Yunho and their girl in the last chapter (bruises) a little residual angst and guilt, but this is mostly fluff. Discussions of the future including houses and babies, but also closer things and dreams they share together.

“I’m so excited to see everything today,” she said as they stepped off the train and onto the platform at Pelham Parkway station.

“There is so much to see here,” Mingi said as he looked at the map of the gardens on his phone. “Can we be sure to go to the greenhouses? I really want to see the rainforest.”

“Yeah sure,” Yunho assured him. “We have all day. It’s a little chilly this morning, do you want a little coffee or tea from the cafe to take with us?”

“Good idea,” she rubbed her hands together even as she spoke, trying to warm her fingers. “Not sure why it feels so chilly this morning. It was definitely warmer the other days.”

“It’s okay,” Mingi grinned, coming up behind her. “All the more excuse to hold your hands.” Reaching around, he gathered her hands into his much larger ones and brought them to his mouth to blow warm air on them. “See? All better.”

“Thank you, my Mingles,” she replied, turning her head to place a kiss on his cheek. “Oops, I forgot about my lipstick. Let me—”

“No no no, it’s okay,” Mingi pulled away enough to keep her from wiping it off. “I want to wear your kisses today.”

“Me too?” Yunho leaned down and offered her his cheek.

“Of course, I’d never forget my Yuyu,” she cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss to the offered cheek, taking special care to caress his face as she kissed him. “I love you.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, pressing her hand against his cheek.

“I’m not going to let you doubt it again,” she promised, running the pad of her thumb over his cheekbone. “Let’s get something warm, then I want to spend the day looking at pretty things with my very favorite people.”

“Tea or coffee?” He straightened up and pulled out his wallet.

“I want the whipped creamiest, sweetest, fluffiest coffee they have,” she gave him a decisive nod at the idea.

“Okay, I’ll grab that, and you, love?” He turned to Mingi.

“Just a latte of some kind I think,” Mingi agreed, coming to hold their girl against him. Yunho nodded and leaned in to give Mingi a quick peck on his lips, then skipped up the steps and into the cafe.

Mingi lifted her hands up again, pulling down her sleeves slightly so he could press them completely against his cheeks. As he did, he noticed purple green bruises that ringed her wrists, which had been hidden by the long sleeves of her fluffy sweater. She pulled her hands back when she realized he had caught sight of them.

“I didn’t know he had held you that hard,” Mingi said, catching one hand to peek down her sleeve as she tried to hide it.

“Don’t mention it to him,” she requested, pulling the wool over her wrist again. “I think he probably feels bad enough. I want to have a fun day today. I can hide them with makeup tomorrow. He doesn’t need to know.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop him,” Mingi murmured, casting an eye towards the cafe to make sure Yunho wasn’t coming back already. “I should have stopped him, for both of you.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks I think,” she shrugged and offered him a sunny smile to help convince him that everything was fine. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t your place to stop him. If he really hurt me, I would have told him. He just… it was my fault anyway.”

“No babe,” Mingi shook his head and pulled her into a hug. “You didn’t kiss her, she kissed you. And you pushed her away, anyway. Yunho should trust you enough to know… to know that you aren’t going to leave.”

“I don’t have a leg to stand on there,” she laughed ruefully. “But I’ll build it back. With both of you.”

“I trust you,” Mingi declared firmly. “Nothing to prove to me. But I won’t say anything. I want to have a good time with you both today.”

“The best day,” she nodded. “I want to see all the fun things and see and smell all the cool plants.” 

Yunho appeared beside them, three coffees in hand and a broad grin on his face. “Are we all ready to go to the gardens?”

Both she and Mingi nodded as they took their cups and turned down the streets that would lead them to the gardens. They made their way past the long blocks of mostly brick apartment blocks until they reached the edge of the park. They walked through the non-descript gray stone gate and over the pedestrian bridge, suddenly finding themselves feeling like they were no longer in the city. After checking in at the gate, they followed the light switchback in the walkway down and into the park before swinging left on the broad paved path. Ahead of them there was a sudden proliferation of blooms in pink and white stretching up into the blue sky. Cherry trees dotted the grassy areas of the hill ahead of them.

“This was absolutely the best idea for a place to visit,” she said as she looked up at the cherry trees surrounding the trail they were on. Smiling up at Yunho, she offered the beautifully teal-haired boy’s had a grateful squeeze.

“There are so many,” Mingi said excitedly, putting a protective hand around her shoulder as they walked. A light breeze stirred the trees, sending a brief flurry of petals into the air. The trees weren’t tall for the most part, but their limbs looked like they should be heavy with the blooms that had burst to life on them. They wandered in circles among the trees, admiring the different colors and shapes of them all.

“I love the ones that sort of droop,” she said as she pointed at one that had branches that seemed to flow down towards the ground. “They feel sort of peaceful somehow.”

“Did you see how many petals this one has?” Mingi asked, standing near one that was back up the hill closer to where they had started. She and Yunho joined him there at the low tree that branched out broadly from its base. The flowers looked like they should be made from water colored paper. Pale pink with occasional darker edges, the tightly packed petals bunched together in beautiful bunches of flowers on the branches.

“Do they have scent?” She asked, looking up at them. At her question, Mingi turned his face into the nearest branches.

“Mmm, just a little,” he nodded. “Come here.” Reaching out, he picked her up around her waist and lifted her up to smell for herself. Closing her eyes, she buried her nose in the pack of blossoms and breathed in. A barely there scent, something like roses with the light notes of lilacs came to greet her.

“Oh, I like it,” she breathed, taking another sniff. “It’s so light though.”

“Yeah,” Yunho agreed, smelling a nearby bunch. “I wonder if you would smell it more if you had it inside where the scent could build a little.”

“Maybe,” She nodded. “I’d try it if this were our tree, but I don’t want to steal from the gardens.”

“Me neither,” Yunho laughed. “Let’s go see the trees I know will smell.”

“Oh?” Mingi said, putting her down and taking her hand as they all started moving in the direction that Yunho set off towards. He led them north along the path they had come on, going past the fork in the path where they had entered, taking the one they hadn’t before. The path was surrounded by tall, old trees whose branches arched over the path and would shade it later in the year when their leaves had filled in.

Suddenly they found themselves coming up on a sea of trees dressed in pink, white, and pale green. The older trees here were larger and the blooms much bigger and growing as individual flowers rather than cloud-like bunches.

“Magnolias?” She asked excitedly, taking Yunho’s free hand in hers.

“Yeah,” He grinned down at her. “I really wanted to see these. I thought you would, too.”

“This is just… amazing,” she breathed, taking in all of the trees. Stepping off the path, she walked up to a small craggy looking tree blooming with flowers with petals that were a deep pink on the outside and bright white on the inside. Reaching out, she touched one of the velvet soft blooms, gripping it just hard enough to bring it to her face so she could breathe in the scent.

“The trees really do smell amazing,” Mingi agreed, coming up behind her. “Maybe, when we have our house, we can plant a magnolia that blooms in spring and we can sit under the tree together. Have breakfast on spring mornings.”

“Maybe with a picnic table?” She began, then gave an excited gasp. “Maybe one of those swings?”

“Or hammocks?” Mingi added with a big grin. “One that is big enough for three. Maybe room to grow?”

“Room to grow?” Yunho asked.

“Don’t you want, like someday, little mini us’s, you know, running around?” Mingi asked as he sipped his coffee.

“Yeah,” Yunho agreed, having had a vague picture of himself chasing after little versions of one or the other of them for as long as he could really recall. “I do.”

Stepping back she looked up at the two boys beside her. a little frown developing between her brows. “It wouldn’t… it wouldn’t bother you to not know, like, if it’s yours?”

“What do you mean?” Mingi asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

“You wouldn’t treat them differently if they looked more like Yunho than you? Or vice versa?” The question had been one of the many things that had been running through her head when she had tried to imagine their future. “Am I supposed to take turns?” She further wondered aloud, her mouth twisting into a distressed pout.  “Do we have to make sure we know whose is whose?”

“Do you really think we’d be worried about that?” Yunho asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think most people would. And I think your parents will care. It would be okay if you cared. We can figure it out if it matters to you.”

“I don’t care,” Mingi shrugged. “And I really don’t care if it bothers my dad. In fact, I sort of hope it does.”

“My mom would love any kid we all had,” Yunho said with surety. “At least your parents will always know it's yours.”

“That’s true,” she let out a nervous snicker. “But I’m still not sure they would like it, that they would approve.”

“Does it matter?” Mingi asked. “Would it bother you if they didn’t approve?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Maybe it’s dumb, but I still want them to understand. I want them to accept me.”

“You know they love you,” Yunho assured her. “They’ll come around. Even if it takes some time, they want you to be happy most of all. I know that to be true.”

“I hope so,” she nodded, giving him a smile. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Gotta keep my girl warm,” he replied, pulling her against his side. “Hafta take good care of her.”

“You always do,” she soothed, patting his hand with her free one. “Would you mind if we just sat for a little while?”

“Actually, I brought snacks,” Yunho said proudly. “Let’s take a seat under one of the trees, finish our coffee and have a little something. Here,” he handed her his coffee and reached into the backpack he was carrying. Pulling out a small rolled up towel, he moved to lay it down under some taller mostly white flowered trees that were next to the path. He put the backpack down and sat cross legged on the towel and patted his lap, inviting her to sit. She smiled, lowering herself into his lap and leaning her head back against his shoulder.

Taking the coffee’s out of her hands and placing them on the grass beside them, Yunho wrapped both arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. He turned his face to nuzzle into her hair, just taking in her warmth and her scent. A part of his heart still felt uneasy despite the smile he had made sure to keep on his face. He had made a mistake yesterday and the guilt was eating at him, but he wasn’t sure if bringing it up again was just selfish and about soothing his conscience more than making amends.

Bringing a hand up to caress the side of his head and face, she tried to offer him a little comfort. Yunho wasn’t nearly as good at hiding his feelings as he thought. Even if Mingi didn’t think so, it was her fault and she would do whatever it took to make him really smile again. She felt Mingi’s hand land on their legs and she moved her other hand to entwine her fingers with his.

Around them the breeze fluttered the petals of the tree and people enjoyed the park. Pairs passed by using the paths for exercise as they socialized and laughed. Families with children ran and played, exploring nature or running through the open grass. The space was filled with people yet everyone still existed in their own little bit of it. No one took particular interest in the people they weren’t there with, simply tolerating or otherwise barely taking note of the others around them.

“I want a garden,” she said softly as she turned to look up at the tree above them. “I want a big magnolia in the yard and cherry trees that also make fruit we can have in the summer. And I want some climbing roses that I can pick and put in vases inside to make the house smell nice.”

“What about some wisteria on the porch?” Mingi suggested. “I like the pretty purple flowers.”

“What about a little place for herbs so I can cook you lots of good food with fresh rosemary and parsley?” Yunho suggested. “Maybe we could even just plant some actual food? Tomatoes, peas, zucchini? What else can you grow at home?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Mom and dad have black thumbs and have hired other people to care of the yard beyond just mowing the grass.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Mingi stated confidently. “We’ll make our own little botanical garden with everything we want.”

“It’s too bad it takes so long for trees to get big,” she looked up at the branches that stretched above them. “I want to sit like this with you two every morning.”

“We’ll just have to get something with trees already,” Yunho shrugged. “Then just add to it.”

“At least the place we have now is nice,” she stated, a small smile on her face. “I like that we have space for everyone. It feels like a home at least.”

“It is home,” Mingi pulled her face in for a kiss. “Any place with you two is always home.”

“You’re right,” Yunho nodded. “I think I’m just impatient to get to the part where we have it all figured out.”

“You mean when we are old and retired,” she joked, turning in his lap to be able to look at him. 

Both the boys laughed and Yunho gave a blushing shrug. “I guess I’m optimistic to think we’re just a few years from having everything figured out.”

“I think we’re doing okay,” she assured him. “Maybe figuring it all out is more important than having it all worked out from the start.” She started to scoot out of his lap and Yunho tightened the grip of his arms around her. “I’m not going anywhere, I just want to do something.” He let her go after another seconds pause. She prompted Mingi to turn so he was sitting facing towards Yunho before she scooted into the space between his legs, she slipped off her shoes and crossed her legs. “Can you lie down? Is there enough space?”

“Yeah,” Yunho nodded, a warm sensation blooming in his chest. Laying down on his side, he put his head on the soft pillow of her lap. Her fingers nested in his lovely teal hair, tossling it and running her nails lightly over his scalp. The sensation sent a calming shiver through him and he wrapped his long arms around both their legs.

“Comfortable Yuyu?” She questioned with a smile. He nodded in response, letting out a sigh as he let his eyes close a little. Comfortable didn’t seem like a word deep enough to explain what they offered him. Laying with them was peace and happiness, it was warmth and the surety that everything was right in the world. Their love made everything else inconsequential, it always had. It was the thing in his life he never questioned. He wanted more than anything for the past few days to have never happened; to have never worried that they did.

When her movements paused he opened his eyes seeing her hand reach for her mostly empty coffee cup. The stretch of her arm caught the sleeve of her sweater, pulling it up off her wrist. It was just a flash, just a second before she caught it, feeding the sleeve back down her arm, but it was enough for the bruises to catch Yunho’s eye. Propping himself up on his elbow, he caught her arm and pulled back the fluffy, oversized sweater sleeve. She tried to stop him, tugging her arm back so that she could keep them hidden, but his insistent and gentle grip kept her from doing so.

“I…” he started, a lump closing his throat around the words he wanted to try and say.

“Yeah, they’re from you,” Mingi said, putting his arms around their girl from behind her as she averted her eyes. Yunho looked up to meet his eyes and saw a heat, a challenge he hadn’t ever seen there before as he held her protectively.

“I didn’t mean to…” He shook his head, bringing her hand to his cheek.

“I know,” she soothed, turning her hand to cup his cheek. “I know you never wanted to hurt me.”

“Yes you did,” Mingi interrupted, a sharp edge to his words. “You wanted to hurt her and I should have stopped you and I will if you ever do that again.”

“It’s okay, Mingles,” she reached her other hand to hold Mingi’s arms that were wrapped around her. “It was my fault; I deserved it. He didn’t mean to… not really.”

“No love,” Yunho rushed to correct her, his heart stuttering at the sad guilt that was filling her eyes. “You didn’t deserve anything.” His vision blurred and he tried to blink the burn of tears away. “Even if you did something you never deserve that. I wish I hadn’t…” There was too much that he didn’t know how to say, all the words sticking in his throat. “No matter what you do, I’ll never do that again.” He shook his head, letting it drop into her lap for a moment before he lifted it again to look at her. “Why did you let me touch you like that?”

“Because I deserved it,” she shrugged, giving him an ashamed look. “And I had to show you that I was sorry. We both needed me to hurt and it just… you needed me and I can’t say no if you need me.”

“No babe,” Mingi squeezed her tighter, a softness entering his voice as he spoke to her. “Never again. You didn’t deserve it. I’ll never watch that happen again and I don’t care what I have to do. Never again.”

“Never,” Yunho agreed, putting an apologetic hand on Mingi’s arm near where she held it. “I won’t ever again, but if something ever happens, I want you to protect her no matter what, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mingi nodded at him, a little of the heat of his anger dissipating, leaving only a slight simmer behind his eyes. “No one is ever going to hurt her if I’m there.”

“Thank you,” Yunho lifted himself to his knees and crawled up into their laps, hugging both of them, with her squished between their much larger bodies. He stayed like that for only a moment, certain that his weight would quickly become uncomfortable for her in no time. Pulling back, he guided Mingi’s lips to his, offering him both a thanks and an apology in the gesture. He stayed kneeling in the space just in front of them as he gave a supplicating lick to Mingi’s bottom lip, begging him to let him deepen the kiss. As Mingi acquiesced, Yunho felt her small hands come to rest on his narrow waist as she leaned her head into his chest. Gratefulness at their shared gesture of acceptance filled in around the spikey feeling of guilt that still sat in his chest, making it ever so slightly duller even as it stayed there weighing heavily on his heart. He felt their love with more confidence than any words could have given him.

“Thank you,” he said again, pulling his lips away but leaning his forehead against Mingi’s. “I am so fortunate that you both love me. Even if I don’t always deserve it.”

“We all have things we need to do better,” Mingi admitted, a feeling of pride in himself  rising as he realized that he hadn’t once looked around to wonder what everyone must think of them. Even now, as the thought crossed his mind for the first time, he only thought, anyone who would be anything other than envious of having so much love would have to be living a sad life.

Yunho saw some thought pass over Mingi’s face, leaving a confident angle to his chin and a brightness in his eyes. He wondered, briefly, what it was but only smiled at him as he sat back on his heels, looking at the two loves of his life as they sat together, eyes on him and full of warmth.

“Yuyu,” she said softly, getting his attention. “What snacks did you get us, love?”

“Right,” he nodded, turning to reach for the bag. Out of the bag he pulled three boxed sandwiches, small bags of chips, and little containers of fruit salad and handed a set to each of the other two.

“Really?” She laughed, looking at the food he had handed her, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Hmmmm?” Mingi looked down at the girl sitting between his legs. “What’s funny?”

“I was wondering if you would notice,” Yunho grinned, pulling out cans of soda.

Mingi frowned slightly and looked at the food in his hands. Ham and cheese, fruit salad, chips… there was a little niggling at the back of his mind. There was something there but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Would it help if I said we could meet a little later and read together a little?” She gently patted Mingi’s knee. “Or maybe we should all fall in a lake…”

“Summer camp,” Mingi gasped, his eyes widening excitedly. “I would have never remembered. How did you remember?”

“How could I forget?” Yunho laughed back. “That summer was the start of the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Aww babe,” she laughed, opening the cardboard box that held her sandwich. “This is adorable and sentimental, but if there are better sandwiches next time, you should probably get those.”

“What, are you trying to tell me there are better sandwiches to be had than this classic?” Mingi scoffed from behind her. “Classics can never be replaced.”

“My simple boys with their simple needs,” she laughed, taking a bite.

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Mingi pouted, drawing his lips into a long line.

“No babe, not at all,” she shook her head, giving him a little bump as she spoke. “It’s just good to remember that it is little things that make you happiest.”

When they had finished eating they made their way along more of the gardens until they reached the large glass and iron greenhouse Mingi had so been looking forward to exploring. Taking a hand of each of the other two, Mingi set off at a lope to the entrance located at the front of the large central domed area. It was a gorgeous building and nearly intimidating in its scale. It somehow managed to give off both a staid and extravagant feel when you looked at it; simple and dignified in its colors but grand in its build.

Stepping inside past the ticket counter they found themselves in a small tropical world. It was warm and moist unlike the outside and felt natural and fresh in its air. The walkway circled a central pond that had a grand display of plants rising out of the water surrounded by large palms of all sorts.

“I wonder how tall it is?” She wondered for the second time during their trip as she stood below a grand dome that seemed larger than it ought to be.

“Wouldn’t it be cool to have something like this that you could visit all the time?” Mingi said, turning slowly in a circle as he took in his surroundings.

“Amazing,” Yunho agreed as he slipped an arm around Mingi’s ribs. Mingi smiled and leaned into the embrace as they both continued to look around.

“Boys, look,” their girl said excitedly as she moved over to one side of the first glass domed room. “Orchids.”

“Wow,” Mingi breathed coming up behind her to take in the long glass hall filled with flowers and plants lining either side of the paving stone walkway. “Look at all the different colors.”

“I bet there are more than we can see from here,” she coaxed as he paused near the entrance.  He nodded and together the three of them stepped in, making their way along the path slowly as they took in all the plants. Bursts of blooms in every shape and color were tucked into every corner of the display. They hung from the branches of the trees and were tucked in among filler plants and in little pots placed on shelves or the ground.

“Yunho,” she turned and asked him as he walked half a step behind them. “Can we have a greenhouse?”

“You want one?” He asked, running his thumb along the side of her neck.

“I want to grow some orchids,” she nodded as she moved closer to a display full of flowers in pink, white, and red. “I want to grow some of these. And maybe some things like the herbs that can’t grow outside in the winter.”

“If you want it, I’ll build it with my own hands if you want,” he nodded. 

“We could have our own jungle?” Mingi asked from beside her.

“Our own little jungle,” Yunho nodded. “Maybe we can sit there in winter and have our breakfasts.”

“Our own forest,” She agreed. “That sounds like home to me.”

“It will be,” Yunho nodded.

“I want to grow them too,” Mingi lifted her up, excitedly bringing her up to a level to better see some yellow orchids that were hanging from a branch nearby. “Let’s have them in every color.”

“I can’t wait,” she laughed. Yunho hugged them both from behind, resting his chin on Mingi’s shoulder as he looked at the flowers with them.

Yunho carried her into the room, having picked her up on his back about a block and a half from the b&b when he saw her yawn. He carefully knelt down, letting her slide off and take a seat on the foot of the bed to remove her shoes. Mingi flung himself on the bed beside her, nuzzling into her cheek.

“Did you have fun today?” she asked, turning to look into his sparkling eyes.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Can we get an orchid when we get home? For practice?”

“Practice?” Yunho grinned, taking a seat near his head. “To make sure we don’t have black thumbs before we invest in a whole greenhouse and all?”

“Yeah,” Mingi grinned. “Seems like a good idea.”

“Mmm, yeah it does,” Yunho agreed as he stroked the top of Mingi’s head. “I know another thing we could practice.”

“Oh?” Mingi said, looking up at him from where he lay.

“Yeah,” Yunho wiggled his eyebrows as he leaned down to take Mingi’s soft lips in an upside down kiss. “Like this. What do you think?” Mingi only grunted in response, bringing his hand up to hold the back of Yunho’s head.

Just as she was about to turn and join her two boys, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Dad on the caller ID. Hitting the green phone button, she sat up and brought the phone to her ear.

“Hey, dad,” she answered. “What’s up?”

“Hey kiddo,” he replied. “You’re not busy are you?”

“Nah, what’s up?” She shook her head and stood up, moving to look out the window.

“I just wanted to let you know I rented the cabin upstate for the month of July,” He informed her, papers shuffling in the background. “Can you invite San to come? We’d like to have the whole family together for it.”

“Yeah, I can call him when we get off, but,” she turned and looked over her shoulder at the two boys still making out on the bed. “Can Mingi and Yunho come too? I’ve kind of gotten used to having them around all the time.”

“I think we have the space, so that’s fine, I guess,” her father replied after a pause.

“Thanks dad,” she said gently. “Maybe I can actually teach Mingi to canoe properly without getting us all in the water.”

“Good luck, honey,” her dad laughed. “That boy is a bit of a disaster with things like that.”

“Hey,” she returned, feeling the need to defend him even if it was sort of true. “He… tries hard.”

“He does, bless him,” her father let out a laugh on the other end. “He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, he is,” she agreed.

“You guys having fun there in the big city?” He asked in an almost absent minded way. “Everything has been okay?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “We went to the botanical gardens today. Do you remember the big tree grandma had in her yard? The one I always really liked?”

“The magnolia?” He replied after a pause. “Yeah I remember it. Why?”

“We saw a bunch of them today at the gardens,” she explained in a wistful tone. “It just reminded me how much I liked it and made me think of her.”

“That tree was beautiful and she always had a few cut in a vase inside whenever it was in bloom,” he reminisced, taking a moment to remember the amazing woman that had been his mother. “She would have liked knowing that magnolias make you think of her.”

“Do you think we could go by her old place and get some seeds from the tree?” She asked quietly. “Maybe see if I can’t get them to sprout?”

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” he admitted. “The people that bought her house were nice enough. If they still own it, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’ll give them a call when we’re done, if you’d like.”

“That would be nice,” she agreed. “Thanks, dad.”

“Anyway, I won’t keep you,” he sighed. “I just wanted you to send an invite to San for me.”

“I’ll do that tonight,” she promised. “Thanks for calling, dad.”

“Love you, kiddo,” he told her warmly.

“You too,” she replied. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he said a second before his side went silent. Taking the phone away from her ear, she pulled up San’s number, clicking the phone icon to start the call before flopping into the soft armchair.

“Chipmonk, is everything okay?” San said when he answered the phone, having seen that it was her calling.

“Hey, bro,” she said warmly. “Everything is fine; good even. I’m calling with an invitation though.”

“An invitation?” He made an interested sound, a smile clearly in his voice. “Go on, you’ve got my attention.”

“I’m reserving you for the month of July,” she stated flatly but with good humor behind it.

“A month?” He asked in surprise. “What do you need me for a full month for?”

“Vacation,” she laughed. “Dad rented the cabin we get sometimes upstate. He wanted me to bring you along, and I told him you and I come with the boys. So, summer with us. It will be just like camp, but with my brother… and my parents… well okay, on the upside, none of the uncool kids like Laci will be there.”

“I can’t wait,” he replied. “Thanks for the invite, Chipmunk. You know my best summers were always with you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she waved him off. “This summer will be great at least, I promise.”

“I know,” he sighed, a warm smile on his face, even if she couldn’t see it. “You guys are the best family someone could ask for.”

“You know we love you, San,” she reminded him sweetly.

“I know,” he nodded. “I’m so lucky.”

“I’m gonna go but I’ll send you a picture of me looking beautiful tomorrow,” she promised.

“You mean like you always do?” He asked, a grin in his teasing voice.

“Pfft,” she snorted. “You flatter me, but I’m gonna look so good for the dinner tomorrow. It will knock your socks off.”

“Love, of you looking good removed my footwear,” he scolded. “Then I would never have them on.”

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes. “You can save that flattery for whenever you get a girlfriend or something. But I’ll send you a pic of all of us together at least.”

“I can’t wait,” he chuckled.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m gonna go, but I miss you. I’ll see you soon, okay? Take care of yourself.”

“Love you, Chipmunk,” San said with all the affection he felt in his heart.

“Love you, too, big bro,” she returned with equal love.

Masterlist

[thiswasinevitableid]

13 fury and 29 leviathan, Ot4, nsfw, please!

I decided to split these up, so here’s Leviathan, and fury will be a separate fill! Indrid’s design is based on an oarfish, Duck on a grouper, Barclay on a whale shark, and Stern is a black and white snapper.

There are times Joseph wishes he was just a brain floating in seashell, not a mer with a body that needs things like food, sleep, and sex. The migration of the Leviathans is one such time.

Every five years, the larger creatures of the Marianas Trench travel upwards, for reasons that remain mysterious to even the deep sea mers. Five years ago, Joseph was ill. Five years before, his job was such that he was unable to take the few days needed to visit the migration sight and record his findings. Now that his chance has come, he’s not letting anything, be it the possibility of losing a limb if he gets too close to the giants or the sparse fishing near his camp stop him.

And he’s certainly not letting his heat stop him.

 He’s chosen the optimal observation point, so when another mer swims into the view, he prays they won’t chase him off or make noise.

“Oh, apologies, I was not anticipating this timeline.” The merman is angular around the face, his tan body bookended with silver; his moonlight colored hair occasionally falls across glowing, red eyes, and his tail is longer than average, elegantly metallic and fanned with red. He strikes Joseph as formidable, so it’s a good thing that he seems friendly.

The new mer cocks his head, “You’re here to observe the migration.”

“I am. Um, are you?” It could be fun to have a fellow rare creature’s enthusiast to keep him company.

“No. I come here to draw, but I’m happy to share the space with you.”

“Thank you.”

They make small talk, during which the other mer introduces himself as Indrid, a seer for hire, and informs Joseph that the migration will start in the next ten minutes.

While his brain focuses on the task ahead, his heat creeps through his body. It’s not too bad, but he knows it will only get more intense as the day moves one. It’s mostly agitation right now, not the aches and tunnel vision that will come for him over the next three days. He’s not sure if he’s releasing any sort of scent signals, because the last thing he needs while trying to record the leviathans is someone pestering him.

Indrid looks up from his drawing, sets it carefully on a stone and swims a circle around Joseph, “Ah, I was not imagining things. You are giving off heat pheromones. And I thought I was prone to unlucky timing.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” Joseph grumbles.

“Of course not. I, ah, do not mean to worry you, but there are many futures where your research is interrupted by hopeful suitors.”

“Damn it.”

“If it would help, I could stay close and pretend to be your mate. You, ah, you would not need to actually be such, though I am not opposed to such things once you are done with your day.” His ears flick once, “the point is, my help is not contingent on sex.”

“That…that would be very helpful, thank you.” Indrid seems genuinely eager to help him, which set fondness squirming up his spine.

Indrid retrieves his supplies, curls the end of his tail around the black and white of Joseph’s own, and murmurs, “The first one should appear in under twenty-seconds.”

He’s right on the money, Joseph stifling a gasp of delight as the massive, bone-white body of a Ningen emerges. It’s pace is alarming fast for something so large.

Next is a creature he’s never so much as read of; serpentine and bioluminescent, with light lures fanned out across it’s forehead.

Movement to his left, another mer emerging from the nearby rocks with their eyes on him. Indrid waits a beat, then whips his head around to hiss at the newcomer, frilling his ears out as he does. They turn tail instantly.

“They didn’t even argue.” He’s impressed.

“I have a bit of a, ah, a reputation. It’s unearned, mind you, but sometimes it comes in handy.”

Joseph nods, turns his attention back to the trench just in time to see a Kraken fleeing from a pair of massive sharks.

He continues his observation with no interruptions, Indrid’s presence enough to deter the few mers who come to investigate him. His new acquaintance offers additional benefits; the physical contact soothes his heat to a degree, especially when pretends that this is all a prelude to that lovely tail wrapping around him while Indrid sinks his teeth into his shoulders.

Better still, during a lull in conversation he glances over to find Indrid has captured the leviathans on paper.

“It seemed to me your notes could use illustrations.” He says a moment before Joseph can ask.

“That’s, Indrid those are incredible, you didn’t need to set your own projects aside-“

“This is more fun than drawing the futures. And more rewarding.” He smiles at Joseph’s excitement.

It’s going on hour seven of observation that his body betrays him; his heat seeps into every nerve, his body twitching and squirming in it’s desire to swim off and get off as soon as possible.

“I foresee the migration lasting three more days. If you need to be done for the day, I do not think it will damage your research.”

“I…”

“However” Indrid says casually, “if you want to stay longer but are struggling to, I can always tell you that good mates can last a few hours more.”

“Shit” The part of his tail concealing his dick pulses, “Indrid, how did you know-“

“Foresight.” Indrid taps his temple, grinning wider.

“I, I think I can call it a night.” He repacks his observation kit, Indrid’s tail holding his all the while. Then he whirls, kissing him as the other mer lets out a muffled laugh.

“My, it must have gotten intense.” Indrid strokes his cheek, roving his eyes up and down his body.

“Very. I, I’m sorry, I’m not very good at spontaneity during my heats, so this might be awkward.” He tries to pet Indrid’s tail, only for his wrists to be caught in a strong hold.

“What do you usually do?”

“I, um, I pick out potential partners ahead of time. And if there aren’t any I’m interested in, I just hole up on my own until it’s over. Besides, it’s not just about who I want; what I want can be a bit of a surprise for most mers.”

Indrid leans close, purrs in his ear, “Am I right that you would call yourself, ah, needy pet?”

“Hollllyshit”

“Answer me.” There’s an edge to his lilt.

“Yes, I would, Indrid please-“

“Hush.” The mer begins swimming them towards the houses on the cliffs, “I have just the thing. You need all the attention you can get, more than I can give without passing out, but there is an easy solution.” He turns the conversation away from sex, asking Joseph about his work until they reach the entrance to a home in the rocks, the front of it sporting an impressive garden.

“’Drid, that you?” A voice calls as they swim down the hallway.

“Yes, my love. And I brought a guest.” They round the corner into a large kitchen. Seated at the table is a merman with short, dark hair, and a mottled green and brown fin. He sets the model ship he’s working on into a carved box, then propels himself with obvious, easy strength to capture Indrid in a kiss. It’s only when Indrid nudges him to turn his head that he sees Joseph.

“Oh, uh, name’s Duck, welcome to our place.” He holds out a hand, smile crooked and soft, the evening light falling around the curves of his body in a way that makes it impossible for Joseph to look anywhere else.

“It’s lovely.” He takes Duck’s hand, shaking it as Indrid explains how they met. Duck takes a polite interest in it, adding that he’s done restoration work on the scant plant life near the edge of the trench.

“Now, what I wanna know is if you invited him for the reason I think you did.” Duck sends a pointed look at Josephs tail, where silver and blue are starting to pulse in place of his usual colors.

“Yes. Assuming everyone is amenable to the idea. Speaking of which, where is, ah, nevermind, here he comes.”

“Hey Indrid, should I start dinner? Heard you say something about a guest—oh holy fuck.”

Joseph clamps his hands over his mouth to stifle the excited moan that tries to leap out.

“You two know each other?” Duck looks between them, then smirks, “hold on. Barclay, is this fella mr. tall, dark, and handsome you keep swoonin over?”

“I, uh, I” Barclay seems to be trying to hide behind his grey and black-speckled tail, “I didn’t know this is where you were going. When you said vacation I assumed, like, you’d go somewhere fancy. Not just a few miles out from the city.”

“If the guy behind me hadn’t been in such a rush to get his lunch, I could have told you more.” He swims forward, heat ebbing in the face of discovering where the mer he’s had a crush on for months lives (and that Indrid has managed to secure two of the most attractive mermen in the world as partners).

Before he can reach Barclay, he jerks to a stop. Duck has hold of the end of his tail, though from the sharp-toothed grin this tableau was Indrid’s idea.

“Am I correct” Indrid swims lazy circles around the other three, “that we are all in agreement that the best way for Joseph to manage his heat is for us to take turns helping him relieve the tension?”

“Yep”

“Uh huh.”

“Yes, now for gods sake let’s get to it.” He tries swimming forward, discovers Duck is even stronger than he looks, and lets out a frustrated, horny whine. Duck makes a sympathetic noise, rubbing his tail soothingly. Barclay decides to close the distance himself, only to freeze at Indrid’s voice.

“I believe you said something about dinner, dear one.”

“But-“ Barclay’s brown eyes send a pleading look at between Joseph and Indrid.

“You’ll get your turn, or several if the timelines are correct, but it won’t do for all of us to get caught up in the heat of the moment and forget to eat. Or for Joseph to burn through a great deal of energy and not replenish it. Besides, he clearly likes your cooking. You have a chance to show off.”

Barclay chuckles, “You’re a menace, sir.”

“You love me for it.”

“I do.” Barclay kisses Indrid as he drifts by, gives one more appreciative, longing look at Joseph, and turns back to the counter. Joseph’s back hits the table a split-second later, Indrid’s face and frilled-out ears filling his vision.

“Now, be a good little pet and let me fuck you.” Ink-smudged fingers expertly stroke his scales as his tail curves around him, trapping them together. The pressure of his touch and the sting of his teeth as they graze his collarbone make Joseph buck in his hold.

“IndridpleaseOHshit, shit” a cock slides into him, “that, that was fast.”

“I have been swimming in your desire for hours. It was only because you were so very engrossed in your work that I ohnnnn, I did not ask to do this sooner.” Indrid nibbles his ear, his tail rippling with effort as he fucks deeper, “you just seemed so happy.”

Joseph moans, wrapping his arms around Indrids shoulders, “That’s one of the most considerate things anyone’s done for me in months.”

“You deserve it, pet, just as much as you deserve to be fucked so much you’re too full to swim.”

“No, ahnnfuck, no wonder Barclay looks so content on Monday mornings, if this is how you treat your mates.”

Indrid trills, blushes, and then hides the fact by sinking his teeth into Joseph’s shoulder. The pain lights him up from tail-tip to the top of his head and he buries a kiss in Indrid’s neck. The tendrils of his cock, already wound around Indrid’s shaft, tighten as the other mer kisses along the bite mark.

“That’s it pet, go ahead and cum, you’ve been so patient, held out so long, you’ll feel so much better if you do.”

The fact that it’s the act of receiving permission that tips him over the edge is probably something to bring up with his therapist, but he’s not thinking about that now. Right now, his world is nothing more than blinding pleasure and his body screaming with relief that he’s finally getting off.

Indrid stays still as he rides it out, trilling softly as he kisses his cheeks. He waits until Joseph meets his eyes and nods before he begins rolling his hips, tail coiling and relaxing in time with his efforts.

“There we are, you can take a break pet, lay here and let me-AHhhnn” His measured thrusts morph into sharp jerks. Joseph’s cock perks up as knuckles graze it, and Duck’s chin rests on Indrid’s shoulder.

“Sorry, you know watchin you play all high and mighty turns me on. Especially when you’re fuckin such a handsome piece of tail.” Duck fingers open the lower part of the slit from which Indrid’s cock emerged.

“No complaAAIInts here” Indrid’s movements turn wilder by the moment and he cranes his neck backwards in search of kisses. Joseph would sit up so he and Duck could lavish him with them from both sides, but his muscles aren’t quite up to that yet.

There are two, high trills, one after the other as Duck bites the tip of Indrid’s ear and then the base of his neck. Indrid thrusts as deep as he can, cumming with satisfied chirps and moans as Duck sucks a bruise into his neck.

As Indrid pulls out, he rubs at the scales around Joseph’s cock in a way he’s never seen before, one that makes everything close up the instant his cock is all the way free. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“It’s courteous to hold onto what a mate gives you” Indrid leans closer, adding, “I also suspect Barclay will enjoy it.”

Indrid helps Joseph sit up, clearly intending to guide him over to service Duck, but Joseph is miles ahead of him, darting out to wrap his arms around his middle and kiss his way from his chest to his belly.

“Y;know, Barclay made it sound like you were real reserved, shy even. Know heats can make folks a little wild, but this seems like a stretch.”

“It’s, it’s not the heat. It’s you. It’s this” He presses another kiss to his belly slides his hands down to grope his upper tail, “you’re, well, let’s just say I think Indrid has incredible taste. Your whole body is divine, Duck” he nips the sensitive band where scales give way to skin, “if someone told me you swam straight out of Poseidon’s Court, I’d believe them.”

“Fuck, are you always like this?” Duck looks at Barclay, who’s holding a spoon so tight it’s cracking.

“Nope.” The cooks voice is creeping higher as he watches Joseph lick and kiss at Duck’s tail.

Duck stills him with a hand in his hair, keeping his eyes on Barclay, “Do you, uh wanna switch? I can keep an eye on whatever you’re makin so you don’t gotta wait longer.”

“No, I, I wanna be good. I can be patient. But, uh, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. Alright handsome, you can keep goinnnnfuck, ohfuckyeah that’s good.” Duck cups the back of his head, urging him on. Joseph understands why Indrid wasn’t thrown by his unconventional cock; Duck’s is the same, multiple short, hyper-sensitive tendrils emerging from a slit instead of a shaft.

To his delight Duck is vocal, moaning and groaning as he tells him how well he’s doing, how perfect he looks with a cock in his mouth.

“Oughta, oughta make you suck ‘Drid and Barclay at the same time, be so fuckin hot, think I could cum without even touchin myself ohfuck, yeah, do that again.”

The tendrils tickle when they glide over his tongue, harden when he curls his lips around a few and sucks.

“Enjoying yourself my love?”

“You know it, darling. Fuck, Joe, where the fuck did you learn to suck dick like this?”

He pulls back, winks, “Maybe if you take me out to dinner, I’ll tell you the whole sordid tale.”

“You got a date” Duck dips down to kiss him, then shoves him back into place, grinding his hips harder before cumming with a half-laugh, half-moan. He’s still shaking when he guides Joseph so they’re face to face and kisses him, whispering, “Thanks for that, handsome.”

He doesn’t have time to note that no one’s ever thanked him for blowing them before there’s a thunk of bowls on the nearby table.

“Dinner’s ready.” Barclays cock is visibly throbbing under his scales, but he lets Indrid lead him to a chair, set a bowl next to him, and whisper in his ear with a mischievous grin. The cook nods, and then Indrid is waving Joseph over.

“You really should eat, you barely had any lunch, but Barclay’s been patient. I recommend multitasking.” Indrid pecks their cheeks one after the other, then goes to sit in Duck’s lap.

Joseph lowers himself and rubs their tails together, “Dinner smells delicious.”

“It’s not the only thing.” Barclay rumbles, then shakes his head, “sorry, I’m super-responsive to other mers heats, we, we can just have dinner if you want, you don’t have to-“

“Barclay, you’ve been on my mind for months. I want to.” His tendrils don’t coax so much as demand Barclay’s cock enter him and they moan in tandem as Joseph settles into place.

“Here” Barclay holds up a piece of fresh crab and Joseph eats it from between his fingers. It’s perfect, just like every meal Barclay’s ever made him. He “mmmms” and opens his mouth for another, this time biting Barclays finger before taking it.

“Tall, dark, and handsome, huh?”

The cook blushes, “Yeah. You, gods you’re always so put-together, I’d say this was a dream come true by my brain can only fantasize about you, like, calling me up to your office and sucking you off. Never thought I’d see you heat-crazed and getting fucked by my boyfriend and one of my best friends. Also, it’s so fucking hot” he gives his first sharp thrust up, “to fuck Indrid’s cum back into you.”

“I told you so.” Indrid murmurs from behind them.

Joseph rocks his hips, kissing Barclay’s cheeks and stroking his beard, “Seeing you is the best part of my day; I, um, I even redid my budget so I could come get lunch more often. I almost asked if you wanted to help me with my heat but I, I was worried it’d be overstepping.”

“Nah. Not for my favorite customer.” Barclay kisses his nose.

“Does AHnnnshit,” Barclay’s cock is thick enough to catch all the tendrils, “does this mean I get a discount now?”

“Of course, ten percent off for every blowjob.”

“I’ll be eating for free in no time. Possibly the end, ohfuckyes, of this heat.” He stops, tries to correct, “that’s, um, that’s if you want to see me again after tonight.”

Barclay nuzzles his neck, “I do. Gonna take a wild guess and say those two do too. And in case you think I’m kidding…”

Joseph cums as Barclay bites the opposite shoulder from where Indrid’s mark is still red, the other mer growling as he pumps his hips up into him again and again, refusing to let go until his cum mixes with Indrid’s and Joseph’s shoulder sports a deep purple bruise.

“Holy shit.” Joseph collapses against his chest.

“Better, babe?” Barclay kisses the top of his head.

He looks over his shoulder at where Duck and Indrid are trading increasingly heated kisses.

“Yes, but I’m just getting started…”

Joseph wakes up in an empty bed, his last memory of Duck fucking him while he jacked Indrid and Barclay off, one in each hand.

Maybe they all have work? Maybe they’re hoping he’ll take a hint and leave…

“Mornin Joe” Duck floats in the bedroom doorway, “Barclay asked me to come get you. He’s almost finished packin breakfast up.”

“Oh,for, um, for me to take on the road?”

Duck shakes his head, “for all four of us; ‘Drid showed us drawins from yesterday and we decided we’d like to join you. If, uh, if that’s okay?”

Joseph swims over to take his hand, “it’s perfect.”

[horizonboundtrainer]

Most of Hoenn's people trace their ancestry from four different lineages:

1. The people of the land:

The original inhabitants of Hoenn who chose to settle by Mount Chimey and live off of its lush soil. Created the Regis and the Claydol line to acts as protectors / workers using techniques now lost. Also created a braille based alphabet system that still persists to this day. May and the Stones are the descendants of them, although May finds the very idea of identifying with them revolting.

This once included a nomadic group of desert dwellers who created the Mirage Tower around their primary water supply. They've all either died out or been folded into the other tribes living in the region.

2. The people of the sea: The second group to arrive in Hoenn after being led there by Kyogre. ( The price was, of course, paid in blood, for the leviathan is not a kind being. ) Split into two main lineages, one of which settled in Sootopolis and another who kept up their nomadic lifestyle.

Archie's descended from the latter and his people remember their oppression under first, the Draconids ( nobody likes pirates, especially not the people trying to bring some sense of order to the region ), then the Japanese government and now simply under the realities of global capitalism forcing many of them them to choose between working for corporations polluting their home and starvation. Their communities tend to be more insular than the rest of the region, with Dewford in particular being known as a place that adopts strange trends.

The Sootopolians have been much more successful at maintaining their presence in the region's politics, managing to keep the spiritual center of their people mostly independent from the League. They settled on top of the Cave of Origin and therefore control the region itself and no, I don't mean just on a religious and political level ( because both are 100% true ). Used to act as the region's kingmakers back when the Draconids were the ascendent power.

Note on the Cave of Origin: There's some weird shit down there that Wallace doesn't know about and May barely understands. If she were to go deep enough into the cave, eventually they'll reach a point where they should have breached the mantle but it just keeps going. The very walls are lined with raw mega stones, the only major source of them outside of Kalos. The Draconids had very good reasons for maintaining good relations with Wallace's ancestors.

The Alolans are a minority that consider themselves related to the other two. And they are right, given that they've historically intermarried with the others.

3. The people of the sky: Pretty much only the Draconids remain, and even then they're very different from their ancestors.

Arrived in the region 3,000 years ago. Found Rayqauza on death's door and nursed it back to health. Their relationship with Rayquaza itself is a much more complicated matter than even most Draconids realize with their pact having been broken ( often due to their hubris ) and remade numerous times over the eons. The current incarnation is bound to May alone and no, she isn't happy about it.

The modern Draconids are the descendants of their people's royalty who fled when their kingdom was torn down by hungry peasants. Their bloodline has preserved their ability to control dragon types with anything from their words to a simple thought depending on the skill of the individual. A few have been born with the ability to use Dragon type moves; these individuals are seen as having the blessing of Rayquaza and as such, are often chosen as candidates for the position of Lorekeeper. Have actual, bona fide, dragon blood but unlike what their legends claim, aren't descendants of Rayquaza itself as that's physically impossible. ( Let's just say that the pool noodle has neither the equipment, nor the urge to procreate and leave it at that )

Note: Keep in mind however, that the Lorekeeper was always female before the modern understanding of gender rendered such things outdated. Not necessarily biologically female but their views on gender wasn't the same as our own.

Zinnia wasn't born with powers. Her grandmother had them but the recessive genes skipped a generation. She was never their first choice before Aster died in a horrific accident, leaving her protégé behind. Poor Zin was never anyone's first choice :')

The people of the sky have descendants all across Sinnoh, Johto and the eastern coast of Asia but they don't usually consider themselves as such the same way the Draconids do.

4. The people of the sun: Those from Kanto and Johto. No, they don't have any connection with Solgaleo or Lunala, the term is a reference to Ho-Oh. They used to be referred to as the children of the sun and moon before Lugia fucked off into part unknown.

They've had contact with the region since it was first settled. The Draconid writing system had major Kantoan influences during its evolution. The Japanese Empire annexed Hoenn under the threat of military invasion, using it as a source of natural resources for decades before the Great War blew them apart. The idea of a united Hoenn take shape under their occupation when groups who used to despise each other found a common enemy in those forcefully conscripting their children into a war nobody wanted any part of. Modern relations with Kanto and Johto are more relaxed although there's still some older folks who will break your ribs with the blunt end of a harpoon if you call them Japanese.

Everyone thinks wine from Johto tastes off and they're right.

The idea of Hoenn as a single political entity is an idea less than a century and a half old. The current incarnation of the Evergrande League is what happens when everyone decides that unity in the face of modern problems is more important than their divisions. ( It's also the product of generations of reform. The original version run by Devon Corp was downright oppressive to towards the working class. )

[transhoverfish]

What are everyone's "abilities" in Survivors? Ryley has good hearing and Milo glows but what do the others have?

!!! YOU HAVE ASKED ME ABOUT MY AU !!! THE FLOODGATES OF YELLING HAVE OPENED!!

OK SO. as u mentioned ryley has good hearing and milo glows. basically,

ryley = good hearing

milo = glowy boy

emily = electric detection (cooler than i describe rn my vocabulary is small)

danby = like emily's but reverse. controls electromagnetic things

roman = night vision

jochi = the most superpower like one, he got quick regeneration.

avery = telepathy!

bart = also kind of telepathy but more like future telepathy. he has future vision.

and i. never thought of one for ozzy actually and at this point i have no idea what to give them that wouldn't have been brought up prior so. u know genetics are weird! they just dont have anything ig. nobody look at me LABDKABDLABD

AND ALSO paul and marg have powers! paul got that peeper enzyme carrier thing, and marg got the very funny power of feeling others emotions. yes that includes the fish. yes this is one of the primary reasons she didnt kill paul over a decade of dealing w him. yes she hates it.

and the vesper haven't been sick long enough to develop anything! or at least thats what im going with bc i havent thought of anything for them yet 😔

AND NOW: LONGER EXPLANATIONS. IM GONNA GET CARRIED AWAY SO ITS UNDER A READ-MORE.

first off on the list: bart! so bart.. kinda has futuristic visions?? but the things he sees are not set in the stone,, as in if he dreams about smth (a lot like ryley can!) it is possible to change those events! most of these visions/telepathy type stuff were bc of the emperor and warpers, and also al-an! once the sea emp died and the warpers all calmed down his powers kind of go away a bit. i think i wrote al-an sort of mentioning it in one chap of awa?? but its only kind of implied. so he has rlly similar powers to avery except he can't tell what others are thinking and he can only kind of tell how his closest friends r feeling. so right now bart pretty much doesn't have powers! he can communicate w the warpers and sea emps much easier than the others tho (he's the only one that can talk to warpers! im not sure he'd get along w them after being hunted down by them for like 12 years though KABDLSBRLSHD)

avery has telepathy! this is because when he first shows up he jokes about having telepathy and i was like "haha. WAIT." and then he got telepathy! i realize its a bad idea to not come up with their powers until as im writing but uhhh well. i never said i was a fantastic writer who's smart. KANROSHROSBF.

he also kind of had marg's empathy ability but wayyy dialed back. he can only tell how other humans are feeling and he can only vaguely understand it as opposed to feeling the emotions himself like marg does. so he can kind of tell how others are feeling and he can tell what theyre thinking about! unless of course for plot convince he can't. strong emotions, especially strong negative emotions (ie. fear) can overwhelm him and makes his powers stop working. and if someone is convinced they're right then he wont b able to tell they're lying/hiding something! yay plot convenience!!

roman has night vision. i have no way of making this sound cool he just straight up can see really well in the dark. like a cat. most of the powers were based off where they originally landed and what would help them in that area! and roman landed in the sparse reef, which is so dark all the time i cry thinking about it. so he has night vision! his poor eyesight is probably all kinds of fucked up now tho.

jochi has regeneration abilities! now i know this might sound a bit much but he just heals from cuts and stuff faster and like. he bones heal fast. and he's more likely to survive smth that might usually kill someone, but its like a 10% higher chance of living nothing too much. he doesn't rlly get scars as much as the others, and its healed his old ones a bit more! this is by far the most unrealistic power of them all, but ya know its alien fish planet game who cares. basically bc his life support systems failed his spine got all fucked up and he got infected faster bc he was barely alive for the first few days and spent a lot of time w bart who was looking after him. power helped fix his back, but he still has a rlly bad limp and pretty much constant pain. big mood there khasar 😔✊

emily can detect electromagnetic waves! works best underwater. kind of like ryley's, but instead of hearing noises she can only hear anything electric, like vehicles or ampeels or heartbeats. gets all fucked up during thunderstorms though sadly. she's the only other one that can kind of hear warpers and can tell when ones about to warp around but she cant actually talk back to them. pretty sick if u ask me tho.

danby has p similar powers to her bc ampeels also spawn in the bulb zone. except he can sense them at a much smaller distance, cant hear warpers, and can control the waves around him! mostly just his own tho. so like, he can quiet his heartbeat or make it stop all together. scary power that he does not know how to control. uh oh. but he can also control other creatures a bit! he's very good at hiding bc of this, which is nice bc he loves to hide from scary things. very big mood once again.

milo is glowing powers! looks a lot like the transparency of a ghost levi or a crabsquid, although he isn't as see through as them. you can def make out like veins but not bones or organs. his powers are activated by touch, the more force behind will create more glow and more transparency! a poke = goes away within a few seconds, a slap = stays for a minute or so. instead of bruises, he just glows until the bruise would normally go away. he's basically a living glowstick. i have another joke for this but i cannot physically convince myself to type it bc its some shit emily would say to him and i cannot embarrass him like that LABDLABDKABAKD

andd ryley's super hearing! can hear basically everything within a mile radius at all times. im bad at math and i don't know the metric system but i think that's like around 1k meters. wait does the metric system use mile already. no. ONCE AGAIN NEVER SAID I WAS SMART.

OK ANYWAYS back on track! this means he can hear about half of the crater at all times. he's gotten p good at blocking out background noise and anything far away. typically only hears everything within like 300 meters of himself. so when he does get back to just hearing everything its like. u ever take out headphones in a busy place and everything kinda hurts for a few seconds bc its so much noise. yeah like that but 500x worse. he's able to concentrate on specific areas within this 1 mile field but if its far away it fucks him up good for a lil while. sorry ryley :(

and then the other two degasi! as mentioned before, paul can carry enzyme like the peepers, but he also can kind of make some himself! only small amounts and it works a bit less than the peeper enzyme does. he does not have to cough it up though thankfully it just like. idk how to describe this idea it can just kind of leave through his skin?? he has like no control over his power at all it just kind does its own thing and he deals w it. this is primarily how he and marg survive for so long w/o dying to kharra!

and finally marguerit! highly empathetic abilities that allow her to feel the emotions of anything around her! i thought it would be funny as hell to give MARGUERIT of all ppl Big Emotion Disease. this is a big reason why she has had yet to murder paul and why she's a lot less murderer like in the au. its hard to kill someone if you. you know. can feel exactly what they are. probably the reason she adopted Dog Bart/Legally Preston Emotionally Not. saw sad puppy and felt too bad to leave him. like paul, she has basically no control over it and is one of the reasons she does NOT want to go back to the survivors base and be around so many other ppl, she'd be feeling like, 13 ppl's emotions at one time. all these powers have fucked up drawbacks dont they??

once again sam, robin, jeff, maxim, and ozzy are (for now at least) not gonna have any powers! mutations are weird and ozzy just didn't get anything, and the vesper haven't been sick long enough for any yet!

OK THATS ALL. HOLY SHIT SORRY FOR YELLING FOR 15 MINUTES. GOT CARRIED AWAY. hopefully that explains everything tho OABEOABROANRJS OK BYE MY PHONE IS ALMOST DEAD

[silver-spider-art]

ToA: Trollhunters vs Wizards

First I don’t want to come off like I don’t think people should enjoy Wizards. Its a fun story and as a stand-alone or an AU its funny with so many call backs to favorite characters, and many emotional moments. Lots to enjoy on its own. However, it is AU. It doesn’t fit in the same timeline of events as what was hinted at and implied in ToA:Trollhunters. I believe the biggest reason beyond the tight time frame the crew had to work under is just that the main writers that were responsible for the majority of the original script for ToA:Trollhunters didn’t return to Wizards for whatever reason (they are back for the movie so fingers crossed). The people who wrote Wizards mostly had teleplay credits on ToA:Trollhunters (edited the screen play but didn’t write it) so while they’d been deeply involved in the original... well clearly a lot of ideas were lost in the swap.

So, why do I say the timeline was screwed up by Wizards version of events?

The opening of Wizards tells us that it’s the late 12th century and then says the present is 900 years later. We know that the current year is 2016 because Enrique’s crib in the Darklands lists him as born in 2016 (so while this doesn’t directly set the shows date it can’t be much past that and assuming Enrique is less than a year old, we can say it is 2016). Now 2016 - 900 is actually 1116 which is early 12th century, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

This drastically changes how we understand the history of this world. If Deya is the first Trollhunter, then all other Trollhunters existed between 1116 and 2016. We see at least 14 troll statues in the Hero’s Forge and we also see several others in storage when Claire retrieves Angor Rot’s head for Morgana, so we can assume a minimum of ~20 Trollhunters. This gives us an average of 45 years as the life span of a Trollhunter. And yes that might seem long to a human but we are told the oldest troll was 5,352 years old and since Vendel, Blinky, Arrrgh, and Draal are all there to see the first Trollhunter chosen and thus well over 900 years old (Draal is straight up said to be 1200 years old during ToA:Trollhunters), then to be chosen by the amulet would be a quick death sentence. Now, while Blinky does only say that the Trollhunters date back to the age of Merlin, this is implied to be further back than the lifetimes of the trolls of Heartstone Trollmarket. Draal talks about spending his entire life training to be worthy of it. Kanjigar pushed his son away to protect him from the dangers of the Trollhunter’s duty implying Draal was young and not an adult during this time, and the absolute faith the trolls have in the amulet and their reliance on the protection of the Trollhunter implies that they’d grown up seeing this as normal. Yet as shown in Wizards, Draal was an adult when the amulet was made. If this was the case he would've seen the amulet pick literally anyone other than him for 900 years and have no reason to think it’d pick him now. Also while showing Jim the box of stones to try in his amulet Vendel talks about Maddrux the Many from legends of old. So old they’d all forgotten what the stone’s actual power was, thinking it was the power of great strength and not the ability to make copies of yourself. 900 years, as we’ve established, isn’t long for a troll. Would you call something a legend of old if it was an event you were alive for? Even if Maddrux didn’t hang out in Heartstone Trollmarket, Maddrux wouldn’t have been an ancient legend. Vendel would've been alive for every Trollhunter to have ever been, so would’ve Blinky, yet they talk about the Trollhunter and the amulet in a revered way that doesn’t befit something which happened within a single lifetime, a single troll generation. 900 years is long for humans, but not for trolls. They would all have to have such bad memories if this is to be believed. 

Another point of contention is Angor Rot. It is shown in a flashback that Angor Rot gets power from Morgana in 1297 with the location stated as Bulgaria, Black Sea... which Wizards shows us Angor Rot taking Morgana here after she drowns... but Camelot is in England/UK (in the normal legends)... that seems quite the journey for a dead girl he randomly found but  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. He calls her forth by 4 names Argante (queen of Avalon or another name for Morgan Le Fey), Pale Lady, Baba Yaga, Eldrith Queen. So one, Angor Rot knows who he’s calling to, he’s not addressing the other spirits that Wizards showed using this place. Also it implies that Morgana has gained quite the legacy of power and influence. Now, when he gets her attention he says “Gunmar’s war for the surface lands has ravaged my village. I need the power to protect my people.” This very heavily implies that the war is ongoing. Based on Wizards, Gunmar was sealed away 181 years ago. It’s also strongly implied that all the Gumm-Gumms except Bular are gone now. So... who’s destroying Angor Rots village? Also we see Morgana’s hand in this scene, so either she’s really good at manifesting or she hasn’t been sealed yet. And if it was a manifestation, why would she make a physical ring? Regardless, she tells him he’s to seek Merlin’s Champions and kill his Trollhunters. Angor Rot was later sealed away in an ancient ruin of Aysa-Thoon in Ranthambore, India (which is in the middle of a tiger reserve btw). It’s old and overgrown implying he’s been there a while. Otto also says he found the location in old tomes so at the very least Angor Rot has been sealed away for centuries. So he runs around killing Trollhunters for ~300-400 years. If this is after the Killahead Bridge battle as Wizards would have us believe, then the only trolls on the evil side killing Trollhunters are just Angor Rot and Bular... which just seems off to me for how everything else is talked about in ToA:Trollhunters. 

The Janus Order and the changelings are another confusing point that Wizards makes worse. When asked about changelings Blinky says that in the Old World Gumm-Gumms stole their young and did something unnatural to them and that their main purpose was to spy on the surface lands. Blinky also says that the Janus Order is an ancient guild of changeling spies, as old as they are mysterious. The phrasing of both these points imply that changelings have existed for a very long time by troll standards, not something that happened well within the lifespan of every troll seen in the show. In Wizards we see all of one changeling who’s already an adult and implies his power is new. Gunmar uses plural when he talks about Morgana’s changelings but they are also very clearly a brand new thing. From ToA:Trollhunter we know that human babies and changelings are exchanged through fetches into and out of the Darklands but if Wizards is to be believed and all the Gumm-Gumms except Bular were sealed away after the Killahead Bridge battle in 1116... who was stealing the babies? Bular? Considering how much Bular hates changelings I have a hard time picturing him setting up the exchanges to get the Janus Order established entirely on his own. If we assume there were a few changelings left loose after Morgana was sealed away... maybe... but Morgana and Gunmar just met and have worked together for like 3 days max... why are they so reliant on each other. And if most of the changelings were made after Morgana was sealed away then why are changelings like Otto so beholden and worshipful towards her? In his Janus Order orientation speech Strickler calls her their Lady Creator and that seems undisputed by any of the changelings. It is implied that Morgana is the only reason their are changelings. NotEnrique says he’s centuries old which means he’d been waiting in the Darklands as a baby until he was needed which I always took to mean that all the captured troll babies had been changed by Morgana before she was sealed away. If Morgana isn’t actually needed to make changelings, then why do they worship her and answer to her over Gunmar? Also Morgana only whispered to the changelings like Otto, never to Gunmar in the Darklands, so she couldn’t have helped set up the changeling magic from that side. 

Then there is Morgana and Gunmar’s relationship. What we see in Wizards, Morgana becomes the champion of the 3 new elemental villains, she makes a changeling (off screen) and sends him to kill her brother, only then does she go see Gunmar. When Morgana talks to Gunmar she immediately brings up the Eternal Night, which... if she’s the champions of the 3 elemental beings who want the humans dead to bring balance to the world... how does the eternal night help them? It certainly wouldn’t help Nari of the Eternal Forest and I can’t think of any reason the other two would want that either. It only helps trolls (trolls who don’t realize that all their food sources need sunlight to exist). After we see her add the mind control power to Gunmar’s Decimaar Blade we don’t learn anything else she does for the Gumm-Gumms. To be honest, if I were Gunmar at this point I’d assume she set me up. Some sorceress shows up, is the king’s sister, she frees your son with a new troll hybrid thing you think is impure in order to get you to trust her and gives you a weapon upgrade to make you think you should go all in on the next battle and then you and your whole army gets locked away for 900 years... kinda no reason to think she ever had your back, especially not to the point that you trust people who say they’ve gotten visions from her in a worshipful way. She very clearly did Gunmar no favors in Wizards. 

Merlin, oh Merlin... one, he’s entirely useless in the entirety of Wizards and always doing something wrong or just not having any power to do anything which is just baffling compared to the power he was throwing around in ToA:Trollhunters. As we see Morgana get sealed away in Wizards, it’s Douxie doing the sealing and Merlin has already fallen down and is asleep for some reason. This despite the fact that in ToA:Trollhunters he claimed he needed to use nearly all his power to seal her away and that was why he was asleep. That her being free meant he could get his power back which just... isn’t how anything happened in Wizards. Also Merlin very pointedly claimed that Jim couldn’t defeat Gunmar as a human, that he would die. But, in Wizards Merlin had originally been building the amulet for Arthur, a human. It was only afterwards that he decided to make it for trolls. So was the only reason Jim had to be a troll because the Jim he met was a troll? Because that is just really fucked up. The speech he gave Jim about needing to sacrifice his humanity, it implied that Merlin had planned this all out, seen this moment... but Wizards Merlin was just constantly in reaction mode and was completely backing Arthur and ignoring literally anything anyone else said until right before they went to the trolls for help. Merlin didn’t give a shit about trolls and they also hated him... but afterwards they love him to the point that they’ll talk worshiply about him? And why did they have to go back to the past? Merlin was so insistent they go back to the past at the start of Wizards... implied like they needed to flee the enemy but a moment after the kids are lost in time he just defeats the skull ship and no one that’s left on Camelot is in danger  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. 

Also when Merlin and King Arthur go to the trolls to ask for help, at this point in Wizards it’s mostly been shown to be a battle between Gunmar and King Arthur for territory. It’s implied that the other trolls have until recently been more hurt by Arthur than Gunmar and Gunmar is only now trying to force them to join because he needs more recruits. Yet in ToA:Trollhunter the war was stated to be mostly a disagreement between Gumm-Gumms and all the “good” trolls and the humans just the victims. Everything in ToA:Trollhunters implied that humans didn’t stand a chance against trolls, Gunmar was endlessly dismissive but in Wizards King Arthur and company were a real danger to trolls, Cal/Deya was nearly taken out by an arrow. In fact the trolls of Dwoza were so useless that they needed humans to train them how to fight. They had no warriors? Where were Draal and Kanjigar during the fight with Arrrgh? So all of the trolls who would become the Heartstone Trollmarket trolls (including Bagdwella) had to be trained to fight by humans before Killahead but then were so disgusted by human Trollhunter Jim that they fainted? That they thought the very idea that a human could fight a troll was laughable? Yeah, that doesn’t make sense. 

And Killahead Bridge, let us not forget. It is the portal to the Darklands but as Cal/Deya walks over it she dismissively says its nothing but a bridge over a dried up river so clearly Wizards is saying that Gunmar isn’t actively using the bridge as a portal, in fact we see no portals or any sort of magic used by trolls in Wizards, not even the door like in Heartstone Trollmarket, Dwoza just has a physical door. The only person who seems to have known that the bridge was a portal was Merlin as he is making battle plans. This also implies that the whole point of the amulet was just to seal Gunmar away in the Darklands. Which is just... why? The amulet hadn’t even been tested against Gunmar yet at this point. This brings up so many questions about the Darklands that are more confusing like how anyone figured out the fetches if travel back and forth from the Darklands wasn’t a thing until after the bridge became a sealed door. 

As for the Trollhunters themselves, what were they all doing if every other Trollhunter existed between Deya and Kanjigar? Deya defeated Gunmar and sealed him away leaving only Bular and Angor Rot and the changelings. We know they weren’t fighting the Janus Order because Blinky had to look them up in a book and Blinky has actively been involved in several instances of Trollhunters (at least Kanjigar and Unkar) so he should know. Jim killed both Bular and Angor Rot, to whom everyone else just died. So what were they doing? Just cleaning up Gnome messes and Goblin battles? If there were no other Gumm-Gumms to fight, why was it a revered position that anyone wanted. The way Wizards sets up the timeline its more a curse that just means you have a countdown timer until Bular kills you. Also every single Trollhunter in the void tells Jim its suicide to fight Gunmar, even after he killed Bular. But by Wizards logic the first time the amulet was used against Gunmar it was able to seal him away forever with hardly a fight. If anything they should think Bular was more powerful than his father by that logic. It all just makes no sense. 

There is more, like character backstory elements that upset me. For example how Arrrgh’s trauma over his treatment as a pet by Gunmar was ignored by Wizards and how his fear of violence was intrinsically linked to that trauma which fueled his insistence on pacifism and how Wizards showed him just casually hitting people after swapping sides with out any issues and that is just very upsetting to me, but that’s a very different rant. 

In conclusion, Wizards has a lot of fun elements to it and can be a very fun watch, but it comes off like fan fiction to me, an alternate universe unconnected to the rest of canon. It doesn’t understand the world building that was established in ToA:Trollhunter and absolutely breaks its own timeline. 

I’ve always pictured the line of Trollhunters stretching back to the Broze Age and the beginning of humanity, a war that has lasted several millennia, long enough that every troll in Trollmarket grew up in war, their lives shaped by it. A war that stretched out into their parents and grandparents generations. Which is completely doable from what we know of troll ages. Gunmar could easily be 4,000 years old (he looks it with all his cracks) and still not beat the oldest troll on record. Merlin always felt inhuman and ancient (centuries long nap and he just has to crack his spine), so he could be far far older than the Arthurian legends and have gone by many names. Also I clearly wasn’t the only one with this idea as if you read the Trollhunters novels or comics based after ToA:Trollhunters those authors assumed as I did. One novel has Jim and the gang go back to 501 AD to see Gunmar lose his eye to Orlagk. The Comics show an early Trollhunter interacting with humans from the stone age. To me this makes so much more sense. Trolls are old and long lived, it only makes sense that their perception of what constituted ancient be very different to what we humans see as ancient. They are also shown to be very slow to change, which is why it makes sense that the Trollhunter mantel is something that has been around longer than the current living trolls.

So anyway, I just really hope the movie doesn’t rely on too much of the nonsense that was shown in Wizards and is a fun romp. I loved full troll Jim and I miss half-troll Jim already. It just feels like his whole sacrifice was meaningless, that by undoing it and showing that humans can fight trolls just fine that it had been for nothing. Its just very disappointing. But that’s just my opinion (but then I’ve always voted for a Jim who can change back and forth and really have one foot in each world).