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strawberry-lemonade-kisses · 3 years ago

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Story Time

Part of the Lost Love Series

Warnings: Violence, Mentions of death and murder, blood, gore, bodily injury, bodily harm, reader has PTSD.

Tengen had been quiet, too quiet. Especially for someone who hadn’t shut up since he came home from the butterfly estate, talking animatedly about retirement and things he wanted you all to do, Family bonding. You and Makio were seated on the engawa together, knees bumping as she swayed to the tune you hummed. Your fingers dug into the small frame in your hand, holding it steady as you weaved your needle in and out, a constant rhythm. Your other two wives were further out in the gardens, sparing ‘to stay in shape’ they said after Makio had given the two of them a look. You didn’t say anything, just continued with your work as they disappeared into the large gardens. “This is nice, now I know why Tengen calls you songbird” you looked up. “What do you mean?” she laughed at your confused expression, laying her hand on your knee. “You're always humming or singing. Did he talk to you about his breathing technique yet?” you were lost, where did that come from? “No, why?” “I’d ask him about it, it's a good story” she smiled, going back to staring into the gardens. “Right, okay. Where is he?” “He should be in the bedroom, he needs plenty of rest to finish healing, he's almost there, his arm is almost healed” she smiled as she leaned back resting her weight on her palms as she took in the sun, similar to the lizards you see running around on the rocks. She cracked an eye open as you stood, disappearing into the house.

Tengen was indeed in bed, body sprawled out along the sheets as he flipped through one of your books. “What are you reading?” He looked up, gesturing towards the space next to him. “Um, not sure, but it's good. The one you were reading last night, about the girl with the bowl hat and the cursed step mom” you nodded, a newer one that you had found, it was good. “I didn’t know you knew how to read Tengen, good job!” “Shut up brat. You know I can read. I just choose not to” you hummed in agreement, making him roll his eyes. “Except now, you're reading this.” “I have no choice” he looked at you before leaning in. “Makio yelled at me for trying to leave” “Ah, that's why I can hear myself think, huh?” he turned back to the book with a huff. “How’s it going with them? Are you feeling better? More part of the family?” you nodded, leaning forward and pulling the book from him, knowing you were on his left side and he couldn’t pull it out of your hands. “Can I ask you something?” “Shoot” “Your breathing technique, Makio said there's a story behind it.” he let out a laugh. “Of course, they would tell you, those jerks. No kisses for the rest of the week” he pouted, sitting up fully so he hovered over you. “Except you, my love, you always get them” he leaned down quickly for a kiss before sitting straight again. He was always so quick with them that it made you dizzy. He was there one second, gone the next. “Sound breathing, it’s my own technique. In the corps we fight using breathing techniques which is almost a way of enhancing ourselves, I won’t bore you with details but there are different forms. I was originally trained under thunder breathing, it's loud and it's fast.” “Like you” he let out an airy chuckle. “Right, like me. But you know me, I can never do it by the books, so I changed it. Do you remember when we used to fight? You would always sing when you fought, you had a rhythm to how you worked, and you followed that. Almost like you're moving on sheet music, you're following a set path. So I did that, I listened to the movements, to the way the wind moved through them as they turned and I moved following that. Because of that I adapted, and I learned more control with my blades, I developed that into another breathing form which I called sound breathing.” “Huh, so you took my fighting style and put your name on it?” His eyes narrowed at the smug smile on your face. “Keep talking like that and your head won't be able to fit through the door on your way out” He adjusted his seating position, leaning his weight on the headboard of your bed. “But to answer the question, yes and no. It's not the same as your fighting, I couldn't copy that. But it’s inspired by it” You sat back, taken back by the honesty in his gaze as he watched and waited for a retort. “ You used to fight with such spirit, such intensity. Watching you was like watching a concert performance, the rise, the climax, and the fall. We worked well together, I think. There was a reason Tatsuhiro wanted you for himself.” The mention of the eldest Uzui had you stiffening, flashes of your final fight with the clan, the blood, the anger directed at you from him. Tatsuhiro was someone you saw in the nightmares that still haunted you, even after 3 years since you last saw him. Tengen noticed the immediate change in your disposition, the stiffening of your shoulders, the drop of your gaze, even the slight tremble in your jaw. “Y/N?”

“Y/N, what did you do?!” Tatsuhiros' rage flooded your house, shaking the walls with the baritone of his voice. “Get out here and face me you stupid whore! What did you do?!” You sat against your door, holding it shut with your weight as you listened to the sounds of your home getting ripped apart, looking for you. “If you don’t tell me your family dies. Do you hear me! I know you’re here bitch so come out!” You heard the stomps before you felt the jiggling of the handle on your shoulder. “Open up Y/N” his voice came out almost like a growl, taunting almost, you knew he would have it open, he was just giving you the chance to move. “Be a good wife will you? Listen to me for once in your miserable little life. I’m giving you 5 seconds, I don’t mind killing you, it will be sweet revenge, I just have some questions first” he was chuckling, the door handle relaxing as he let go. “1” you looked up “2” you scooted to the side of the door “3” you grabbed the blade sitting in your bag, still caked in the blood of the clan leader. “4,5” As the door opened you swung, using the blade as an extension of your arm you pushed. The ripping of flesh was something you’d never get used to, not after years of being a kunoichi, you were sure you’d never get used to it. Tatsuhiro gurgled over you, his frame falling forward as he attempted to spit out his last words. You twisted the knife, feeling it rip further into his abdomen, creating an even bigger mess on your hand. “I’m sorry. I wish things could have been better for all of us” you spoke, releasing the hold you had on the much larger man, letting him fall into the pool of his own blood.

“Y/N? Songbird, come back to me” you blinked “lost you there for a second” “Can we talk about something else?” recognition flashed in Tengen's eyes, a noise of understanding slipping before he spoke “Well either way, yes Sound breathing is because of you. How could I forget about you? We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I know they looked for me, but they forget that I’m the best, they could never catch up” he chuckled as he reached for your hand, gripping your shaking fingers in his own, thumb already rubbing circles over your knuckles. “There’s a lot I didn't because of you. To hold onto you. IT scared me when you didn’t come with me, I didn’t know what would happen, where you would end up, if you would meet the same fate as everyone else or if you would persevere.” “Do you not believe in my strength?” you joked, trying to lighten the suddenly serious tone he had. “Of course I do. But I had watched Tatsuhiro kill and manipulate all of my other siblings to get him on top. I knew that no matter what, you could easily end up like them. It was him I didn’t trust. I should have stayed, taken care of you myself” “Tengen” he sighed, head dropping till it bumped your own, eyebrows meeting his furrowed ones. “I know. I’m just still pinching myself every time I wake up and your here” you smiled, patting his bandaged arm as you sat back. “Sounds cheesy, I’m right here love. Sorry, but your stuck with me now” you shrugged, leaning back in to kiss the pout of his lips before removing yourself from the bed. “I’ll leave you to your reading before Makio comes in and scolds me too” Tengen chuckled as you left the room.

#TLL #LLT #tengen #uzui tengen #tengen uzui #kny tengen #tengen x reader #tengen x y/n #lord tengen #tengen x you #uzui #uzui x reader #uzui x you #tengen x yn #you x tengen #tengen kny #KNY #sound hashira #kny sound hashira

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verse50 · 4 years ago

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Heat

It was the first weekend over 80F and we took full advantage of it on our six acres. Friday night we let the kids loose on the rock pile, loading up the trailer for the dump, then packed them off early Saturday for soccer camp. All morning he bush-hogged the treeline while I wrestled the sunken raised beds into shape. This house had been so neglected when we bought it two years ago. Finally we had the time and money to make it nice again.

I was pulling weeds when he tromped out in chaps and ear protection. Chainsaw hanging from his belt. That and the sweaty dirt on his face made me look a bit longer.

“I’m gonna saw up that alder and then get to the stairs,” he half shouted. Bush hogging will do that to you. He grinned and took out his ear plugs. “The beds are coming along, maybe-” I was on my knees and gazed up at him quizzically.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said, at the perfect angle to peer down my shirt.

“Nope!” I agreed, and swung myself back and forth. It looked and felt like two water balloons bumping in a pillowcase. Then stuck out my tongue.

His mouth set. “I gotta get the stairs done today.” Then he was gone into the brush, chainsaw revving. I bent down again to the weeds, trying to drown my frustration with deep breaths.

He was so hard to read. I was a free spirit, a spitfire, and he was a calm, methodical engineer with a heart of gold. There was no better man on the planet, I was convinced, but gosh sex was tough with him! It took him so long to adjust to change. A toe ring. The tiniest gold nose ring. A tattoo on my ankle. Introducing him to my vibrator. I had to pace everything at six month intervals or it was too much.

But once he got used to it...holy fucking shit. He basically dissected that vibrator and and studied the user manual. Found similar ones, tested them on me like I was a guinea pig. Even took me to a toy store in Dallas then fucked the daylights out of me until 3am. And then...it all petered out like a spent firework. I would try to keep the energy going, keep him interested, but I could never tell what worked. He was pretty shy about sex, almost embarrassed. He wasn’t comfortable with dirty talk. We couldn’t really sext because his job required cellphones be lockered except at lunch. We could go months on once a week then he would surprise me with a two day fuckfest, like a volcano erupting. I lived for those times but could never figure out how to make them happen more often. All it did was make me ramp up with excitement, feel more free, then try to cram myself in a box again. He was such a good man, though. I just needed to be more patient, less wild. I ripped up the weeds angrily.

The sun was high when he came in for lunch. I had sandwiches, chips, and his favorite tea ready. There was even more dirt on his face and I sat there awkwardly, trying to equate my silent chip-crunching husband with the dirty woodsman I wanted to pounce on.

“I think I’ll build out the landing a bit from the stairs, maybe put in a new handrail,” he said. I sipped my tea and nodded. “The driveway could use some gravel.”

“The trailer has all the rocks in it still,” I pointed out.

“Mmm. I’ll go to the dump first, then hit Home Depot and Brother’s Fieldstone.” He looked at me as if I had just appeared at the table. “You’re wearing a bra now.”

“Uh-huh.” I cut off a smart-ass retort and became very busy fishing pickles from their jar. “I’m gonna work on the petunia baskets.”

After the peck on my cheek he would be gone for at least two hours. I ripped off my bra, blasted Slayer on my bluetooth speaker, and delved into the hanging baskets. By the time I had repotted everything and cleaned up the cobwebby lounge chairs I was a filthy mess. Shower time.

You couldn’t see our house from the road. I went out on the deck in just a towel, then threw it off and lay naked on a chair, basking like a lizard. Big fluffy clouds blocked the sun momentarily, then shooed away when I spread my legs wide. Everything needed to dry. My hair would need a serious flatiron session. Idly I thought of him coming out of the forest...rushing home...making a beeline for me...a naked woman tanning herself alone...so easy to take advantage...helpless...but there was a shotgun behind the door...

Damn it, I thought. Can’t even have a fantasy and it gets all practical. He’s wearing off on me. I looked at my phone. About 30 minutes of naked freedom left- I should water the baskets again. I picked up the hose and my phone rang.

“Hey baby,” I said, working up the cheerful wife tone. He really was wonderful. I just needed to...not need so much.

“Baby, guess how much the lumber cost for the deck, right now?”

I thought for a minute. It has been awhile since we did a major project. “Um, I think we did the brown house for under $600?”

“Yeah, well, I priced it all out. It’s gonna be over $2000! We can’t swing that now. It’s insane, the prices. Never seen anything like it. And Brother’s is out of pea gravel!” He was worked up. This man stuck to budgets religiously.

“O my God! No, you’re right. We can’t do that now. The deck will be fine for awhile, definitely. It’s sturdy at least.” The sun was so hot on my back. I stared at my shadow, waving the limp hose to and fro.

“So I emptied the trailer and uh, checked everything out. Since we can’t do anything more on that today I, um....” he coughed. I waited, cautiously easing on the water. “I went to that new little toy store in the strip mall.”

Water spurted out onto my shadow. “I see. What kind of toys?”

“The only kind!” His voice rose. The hose engorged and gurgled. “I found one like your pink one, you know that does the swirly thing, too? But this seems to be a softer material, a better grade of silicone, I think this company merged with a big distributor and, uh...”

My mouth twisted. It was just like him to get carried away on technical aspects. “That’s so sweet, baby. What are you wanting to do with that?”

“I want to use it on you.” He was almost whispering, as if there were seven other people in his F-250. “Like Dallas.” It was such a distant memory. I couldn’t work myself all up again, it was too exhausting. But he went to the store, my dear husband...he wants something.

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” I said sincerely. “Just come home and we can hang out the rest of the day.”

“I don’t want to hang out. I want- I want you to not wear a bra again. I don’t want you to feel, uh, like you have to put it back on? Around me?”

I aimed the water where my shadow’s pussy would be. Cool drops sprayed up onto my flushed skin.

“I’m not wearing a bra right now.”

“What?”

“I’m naked out on the deck. Been tanning after I took a shower.”

Silence. He was gunning the truck, I could hear the roar.

“I hope you’re bringing some wood home for me.” VVVBBBBRBbbbbRRRRrr.

“Baby, if you can just let me plan stuff. It’s easier for me. I’m sorry I’m slow and I disappoint you. I wanted to tear your shirt off there but I’m just never sure...I don’t want to do anything you don’t like, I don’t want to hurt you- really- just let me plan sometimes and maybe try to go along? I promise I’ll do better, you are so sexy-” sfhkhfffffppp. His phone cut out. I stood there, dumb, watching the water drip my shadow off the edge of the deck. He had never talked to me so much at one time. “-if I can plan and know in advance that you like it we can do more, you drive me crazy you know that, right?”

I took a deep breath. My legs were shaking into the damp, hot wood. “How do you want me to be, when you get home?”

Pause. More gunning. “On the deck chair, doggy. Ass in the air. Wait- I need to shower first.”

“No, you don’t. You’re sexy with the dirt on you. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I love my sexy, dirty husband.”

“Ok.” He was firm. The blinker was on, he was at the intersection ten minutes away. “Ass up, doggy. Hands by your side. Face turned away from the stairs. I don’t want you to see me. I have-have- a special delivery.”

I turned off the water. The whole deck was soaked. Not one basket had gotten a drop. “Ass up ready to receive. I’ll be waiting for you, baby.” I was so excited my words came out slowly, bouncing through a lump in my throat. The sun was cold and hot at the same time.

“If you respond well there will be future appointments.” His voice was full of confidence before the phone shut off.

I almost tripped on my way over to the lounge chair. Fortunately my towel was there in case things got really wet.

Thank you to @daily-esprit-descalier for sharing the photo that inspired this story.

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#verse50original #relationships #nature #writersontumblr #married

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wrathofrats · 2 years ago

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For those who have an individualist complex when it comes to music (me too) I’ve got you.

Here’s some bands with under 500,000 Spotify listeners and some songs with under 1 mil plays

Link to my playlist for the songs!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7xYWUcpNkjtGVy673GtSQy?si=xxkXUkGFRL28wRQzZ8Gq1Q

Bands:

• Benches

Genre: Indie Garage Rock

Similar artists: Carpool Tunnel, Glow!, Makeout Reef

My favorite songs: Monodrama, Angry Lizard Noise, La Friends

• The Hubbards

Genre: English Indie Rock, Hull Indie

Similar artists: Alright Alright, Only Sun, Dancing On Tables

My fav songs: Seven or Eleven, Your Love, Cold Cuts

• Valiant Vermin

Genre: indie pop

Similar Artists: Camino 84, HOLYCHILD, Michael Medrano

My fav songs: Sunday Best, Warm Coke

• The Beaches

Genre: Canadian Indie

Similar Artists: Modern Space, The Glorious Sons, USS

My fav songs, Desdemona, Keeper

• Deal Casino

Genre: asbury park indie, dance rock

Similar artists: Mickey James, King Shelter, Friday Pilots Club

My fav songs: Best Year, Happy People

——Songs with under 1 mil listens:——

•Seven Or Eleven - The Hubbards

- a song about over consumption and dying to be on trend with everyone else. A current fav of mine

- fav line : “ And nothing says success like an excessive waste

I’m sure I’ll find another suit to suit my taste”

•Pantherland - Ghost Soul Trio

- I actually can’t stress how fun I find this song to be, it’s got a funky bass, a whiny male part, and falsetto. What more can you ask for. If you ask my opinion this song is about cheating, and feeling bad but also being annoyed by your SO. It’s about a bad relationship but bass line go hard so

- fav line: “How to say when with my vision getting dim

And my patience wearing thin with this

I lock myself in, you'll be asking where I've been

I'll make something up again like I always do”

• ( this song doesn’t have under 1 mil listens anymore but it’s under 2 mil and it’s my favorite song of all time) Monodrama - benches

- this song makes me want to run into traffic, for fun. I want the flowyest dress you’ve ever seen and I want to run along side traffic and in traffic just to test my luck. Am I making any sense at all let me know. This song makes me feel like a god and also the most dramatic person ever. It brings me up and then tears me down again. It tells me I can’t be defeated and then defeats me. Have I told you I love this song yet.

- my fav line although there’s multiple and it’s not like the lyrics it’s just the absolute desperate yelling of “I’m dramatic so dramatic” over and over again. It makes me want to scream with him.

• scare me - Ludo

- scare me by ludo is camp. It’s a Halloween song that takes absolutely nothing seriously. There’s an actual chase scene in the middle of it. It’s so cinematic and fun and it makes me want to be a child trick or treating again

- fav line “See the ouija moon beamin' through blackened canopies

Screamin' bats in between 'em

Demon season, twitchin' mischievous

It's gettin' witchy”

• Sunday Best - Valiant Vermin ft Ricky Montgomery

- Sunday best is a very happy song until you look at the lyrics. It’s like a sunny day where you put on a fun little outfit to go mess around with your friends in a park. But then the lyrics are about biblical horrors and saving those who need help. (It’s not a religious song but you get what I mean) the lyrics here are just so interesting to me and I’m a sucker for a happy song that’s actually depressing

- fav lyrics “Silence is where are the creatures go

Creatures the things we will never know

Drowning in the bath of eternal sin

Draping the flesh over my pure eyes

Top of my head and down to my thighs

Grazing the surface of my own skin”

—

That’s all for now my friends, let me know if you like any of these artists or songs!!

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themadlostgirl · 4 years ago

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Keeping Warm

*It is soft Felix simping hours*

Prompt: Reader gets cold easily and steals Felix’s cloak to keep warm not knowing it was his. Felix has some feelings about this.

Requested by: anon

Warnings: language

~~~

I am not good with cold. I’m just not. It’s been that way ever since I was little. When I am cold I shut down and for some reason I always seem to be cold. I don’t know what caused it but I needed to be in the heat at all times. I figured that when I flew to Neverland I wouldn’t have to worry about the cold anymore. It is a tropical jungle after all.

The days are long and the sun is sweltering. I bask in the heat and humidity with a reverence reserved for deities. I was warm and I was happy. The Lost Boys often joked that I was just like a lizard basking on a hot rock. Almost no one actually called me by name anymore after they made that connection. I was always lizard or viper. I learned to live with it.

With that said it looked as if Neverland was my dream come true and it was...until night came. The second the sun was no longer in the sky the island got cold. I expected it to drop a few degrees during the night but the difference was so stark that I spent most nights shivering in my tent with my thin cloak huddled tight around me.

One night I had been so cold that I huddled myself near the bonfire and fell asleep there. It was at that moment I decided to suck up my pride and ask the boys for some help.

“Hey guys,” I approached a group of boys I was sorta close to, “Are there any blankets around?”

“What do you need a blanket for?” One of the asked.

“Well, I get really cold at night and I was wondering if I could maybe get a blanket or at the very least a thicker cloak.” I muttered, meekly.

“How on earth are you cold?” The boys started laughing. “This island is a thousand degrees all the damn time. You really are cold blooded, lizard.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I crossed my arms, “I’m a wuss because I get cold easily. Can you stop making fun of me?”

“Awe, did we hurt your feelings?” One of the boys pinched my cheek, “Little lizard girl can’t stand a little cold?”

“You guys are such jerks!” I shoved them off. “Forget I said anything. I’ll find something on my own.” I huffed and marched off. The boys were wrong about me being cold blooded because I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. Now if only I could bottle this red hot anger and use that to warm my tent at night.

I went up to other Lost Boys asking around for a spare blanket but they all gave me the same bark of laughter and refusal to help me. I had enough and went out to the beach to find my sunbathing rock. It was a large smooth flat rock that stretched into the sea a bit. It was a nice place to keep warm and get some peace and quiet.

When I got there I saw that I wasn’t the only looking for some quiet.

“Hey Felix,” I sat down next to him, “What brings you here today?”

“Stone skipping,” He gestured to the pile of stones by his feet. “Come to warm yourself, viper?”

“What else do I do?” I sighed. I liked Felix. He was easy to talk to and unlike a lot of the other boys when he called me lizard or viper I didn’t think he did it out of malice. It was just a name like Toodles or Slightly. I thought briefly about asking him about acquiring a blanket but decided not to. I had enough of the boys laughing in my face and I really didn’t want to add Felix to that list.

The minutes passed by as I laid down to soak in the sun. Another thing that I liked about Felix was that I didn’t feel the need to fill the silence around him. We could simply exist next to each other. It was rather comforting that we could have these moments when I lived on an island full of boys that couldn’t stand still for more than five seconds.

“Scoot over,” Felix nudged me with his foot.

“Run out of rocks already?” I made room next to me so Felix could lay down as well.

“Yeah,” He sighed and closed his eyes. “Weren’t a lot to be found today.”

“Happens,” I shrugged. I pulled an orange out of my pocket and started peeling it. “Orange slice?”

He opened his mouth and I rolled my eyes before dropping a slice in. “You know,” I said, “One of these days I’m going to do something like drop a rock or a little hermit crab in your mouth.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” I bit into a slice. Felix opened an eye to glare at me. I held out another slice as a peace offering. He took it with his hand this time. “Smart choice.”

“Remind me why I put up with you?”

“Because I’m fun and also quiet and I always end up giving you half of my snack when we’re together. Speaking of, my canteen is empty.”

“Here,” he handed me his.

“Thank you.” I took a generous swig. We passed the rest of our time laying in the sun not saying much until Felix had to leave.

The sun started to set and it was with a heavy heart that I braced myself for the cold and meandered back to camp. The boys I had spoken to earlier sniggered as I passed. I got to my tent and sighed when I realized what exactly those idiots had been giggling about. My cloak was gone. The one thing I use to keep myself warm at night and it was gone. Assholes.

Fine. If they want to take my stuff then I’ll take theirs too. I maneuvered stealthily around the camp looking for an unattended cloak. I eventually found one in a distant tent near the edge of camp and grabbed it. Let’s see how funny they think it is that their stuff gets stolen.

I bundled up the cloak and made a straight line for my own tent. I unfurled the cloak and was surprised by how much thicker this one was than the one I had. Probably thicker than what any of the boys wore. It also smelled kinda nice. I don’t know why but I caught a whiff of it and it put me at ease almost immediately. I wrapped myself in the cloak and reveled in the extra warmth it provided before promptly falling asleep.

~~~

Someone was gonna die!

Felix was turning in for the night and had noticed that his cloak had been missing. One of these idiots stole his cloak and when he found out who he was gonna murder them. No one steals from him. Not even as a joke.

It was the whole reason he set up his tent away from the main bustle of the camp. So stuff like this wouldn’t happen. But now it had and heads were gonna roll.

He noticed a group of boys together laughing it up by the fire. He saw one of them holding a bundle of fabric and charged.

“Hey!” Felix grabbed the kid by the neck. “You got some explaining to do you little shit!”

“Felix, calm down buddy.” One of the boys tried saying. “You’re choking him.”

“That’s the point.” He growled. “Cloak. Give. Now!”

The boy shoved the cloak into Felix’s free hand. Felix released him and the kid stumbled back gasping.

“Why do you have to be such a kill joy?” The boys complained. “Did the lizard send you to do her dirty work?”

“What?” Felix asked. “What are you talking about?”

“We stole her cloak cause she was complaining about being cold again. I really don’t see how she can be cold when it is always hot on this island.”

“Oh so this isn’t mine.” Felix really looked at the cloak in his hands. It was very thin and threadbared from years of use. It was a wonder that it was still together at all. He balled the cloak up and stuffed it under his arm. “So which one of you assholes stole my cloak then? It was in my tent this morning and now it’s gone.”

“We didn’t take anything from you.” The boys said. “We swear we didn’t go anywhere near your tent.”

Felix prowled closer, fire in his eyes. “You had better not have. You know how I feel when people touch my stuff. So if I find out you are lying I will shove a spear up your ass and roast you over the fire.”

Felix trudged away leaving the terrified Lost Boys behind. Now he just needed to get this cloak back to you. As thin as it was it was the only thing you had to keep the chill off so some coverage was better than none. Maybe he could approach Pan about getting you a real blanket or at the very least a thicker cloak. He knew how easily you got cold.

Felix sighed. He really was stuck on you. Out of everyone on the island you were the only one that he liked spending time with. Unlike everyone else you were able to sit still and enjoy the moment of silence the world offered. Spending time with you was like finding the eye of a hurricane. All the noise and chaos continued while he stayed safe.

He came upon your tent and peered inside. You were already fast asleep. Looking closer he realized that you already had a cloak covering you. How was that if the boys had taken yours earlier?

Wait. That was his cloak. Why would you steal his cloak? He plan was to wake you up and make the swap but upon seeing you laying there without shivering he couldn’t bring himself to take his cloak away from you. It was much thicker and warmer than your old one was and you clearly needed the layer.

It didn’t help matters that he got a strange fluttering in his chest when he saw you curled up in his clothes. Why was that happening? Why did you look so...cute? Cute was not a word that Felix used, ever. But it was the only appropriate word he could find as he gazed at you.

With a sigh Felix left your tent. He threatened the Lost Boys to not take anything of yours again lest they answer directly to him. The boys nodded in terror, not wanting to incur the wrath of Pan’s second in command. He threw your old shitty cloak into the bonfire. You wouldn’t be needing it anymore now that you had his to keep you warm. Felix let himself a small grin as he watched the cloak turn into a pile of ash. Besides, he thought, his cloak looked way better on you anyway.

---

(Part 2)

#felix imagine #felix x reader #ouat felix #ouat #neverland #peter pan ouat #request

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glennmillerorchestra · 3 years ago

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White album?

ooh good one anon!! and also one that is going to be extremely long lmaooo so buckle up for what's below the cut

back in the u.s.s.r: well, the ukraine girls really knock me out / they leave the west behind / and moscow girls make me sing and shout / that georgia's always on my mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mind

dear prudence: the wind is low, the birds will sing / that you are part of everything / dear prudence / won't you open up your eyes?

glass onion: i told you 'bout the walrus and me, man / you know that we're as close as can be, man / well, here's another clue for you all / the walrus was paul <- (faul)

ob-la-di, ob-la-da: happy ever after in the market place / molly lets the children lend a hand / desmond stays at home and does his pretty face / and in the evening, she's a singer with the band

wild honey pie: i love you, honey pie (about the only "lyric" in the whole "song")

the continuing story of bungalow bill: the children asked him if to kill was not a sin / "not when he looked so fierce" his mommy butted in / "if looks could kill, it would have been us instead of him"

while my guitar gently weeps: i look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping / while my guitar gently weeps / i look at the floor, and i see it needs sweeping / still, my guitar gently weeps

happiness is a warm gun: she's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand / like a lizard on a window pane

martha my dear: when you find yourself in the thick of it / help yourself to a bit of what is all around you / silly girl

i'm so tired: i'm so tired, i haven't slept a wink / i'm so tired, my mind is on the blink / i wonder should i get up and fix myself a drink

blackbird: blackbird singing in the dead of night / take these broken wings and learn to fly / all your life / you were only waiting for this moment to arise

piggies: have you seen the little piggies crawling in the dirt? / and for all the little piggies, life is getting worse

rocky raccoon: his rival, it seems, had broken his dreams / by stealing the girl of his fancy / her name was magill, and she called herself lil / but everyone knew her as nancy

don't pass me by: i'm sorry that i doubted you, i was so unfair / you were in a car crash, and you lost your hair <- (faul)

why don't we do it in the road: why don't we do it in the road? / no one will be watching us / why don't we do it in the road? (profound lyrics right here)

i will: who knows how long i've loved you? / you know i love you still / will i wait a lonely lifetime? / if you want me to, i will

julia: morning moon, touch me / so i sing a song of love, julia

birthday: they say it's your birthday / well, it's my birthday too, yeah (another profound set of lyrics)

yer blues: black cloud crossed my mind / blue mist round my soul / feel so suicidal / even hate my rock and roll

mother nature's son: find me in my field of grass / mother nature's son / swaying daisies, sing a lazy song beneath the sun

everybody's got something to hide except me and my monkey: the deeper you go, the higher you fly / the higher you fly, the deeper you go

sexy sadie: one sunny day, the world was waiting for a lover / she came along to turn on everyone / sexy sadie, the greatest of them all

helter skelter: tell me, tell me, tell me, come on, tell me the answer / well, you may be a lover, but you ain't no dancer

long, long, long: now i can see you, be you / how can i ever misplace you?

revolution 1: but if you want money for people with minds that hate / well, all i can tell you is, brother, you have to wait

honey pie: now honey pie you are making me crazy / i'm in love but i'm lazy / so won't you please come home

savoy truffle: you know that what you eat you are / but what is sweet now turns so sour / we all know ob-la-di-bla-da / but can you show me where you are?

cry baby cry: cry, baby, cry / make your mother sigh / she's old enough to know better

revolution 9: number nine, number nine, number nine, number nine, number nine, number nine, number nine, number nine, number nine etc etc etc (the most profound of all "lyrics")

good night: now the moon begins to shine / good night, sleep tight

send me an album and i'll give you my favorite lyric from each song!

#anon you were CRAZY for this one my god... hope my selections are up to par #anon #ask

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haloud · 3 years ago

Text

things we could burn in one go (eminence) -- chapter 10

also on ao3

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Isabel Evans & Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes Additional Tags: post-s2, Canon Compliant, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Starts Forlex Ends Malex, Other Characters May Appear, Tags Subject to Update, Mutual Pining, Breaking Up, Getting Together

Chapter Summary: Alex and Forrest struggle to understand each other in the wake of their breakup; Alex makes a shocking discovery at the Long farm.

Excerpt:

The corner of Forrest’s mouth twitched, as did one eyebrow, and his stance softened slightly. “No serenade? No boombox? No diamonds? There goes that fantasy.”

It was true; Alex had come here empty-handed, the way he brought himself to every step of their relationship. All the things he had inside him, all the things he had to give, he’d failed to deliver any of them in a way that Forrest needed. He’d made do with illusions, convincing ones, convincing enough to fool even himself into thinking he was built any other way than this. He was a problem-solver, a provider; it was bitter medicine to learn that brute-forcing himself into the proper shape for someone else only hurt everyone involved.

Alex ducked his head with an infinitesimal smile of his own. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Forrest shook his head. “Honestly, I’m just kind of surprised you’re even here. I thought I’d be waiting until I decided to come to you. And shouldn’t you be at work right now?”

“I took a half day,” Alex replied. He’d taken tomorrow off as well to prepare for their planning session, but Forrest didn’t need to know that. “I didn’t want to make either of us wait. Not for this.”

(Wednesday, 14:00)

The Long family home was leagues from the old barn and the fallen tree, but an odd sort of almost-nostalgia sloshed in Alex’s stomach as he approached the house all the same. He had only been back here a few times since he and Forrest met; it wasn’t a part of their relationship; it was more convenient to spend their time at Alex’s, where there was no one to bother them. When they spent the night together, it was in Alex’s bed, and the sex they had was there too, unless Forrest knew for sure Wyatt was gone and not coming back. That thought only made it stranger, how Alex had never quite gotten used to sharing his space with him, sharing a bed, sharing a life. For the thousandth time he wondered what was wrong with him, but he took a deep breath and cut that feeling loose and let it float away. What good was a question with no answer to him now? It was a search he’d never finish, and he would have to learn to live with it.

It felt wrong to leave something before it was finished. To turn his back on a piece of himself before examining every inch of it under the light, to cut loose a string without following it to its end and seeing where it led. But to force it would only make things worse, and he’d done enough of that already.

By the time Alex parked, shut off his car, and gathered his willpower to approach the house, the door was open, and Forrest was waiting for him on the porch. He looked…great. Normal. He’d touched up his hair; his eyes were well-rested and sharp; his fingers and neck dripped with jewelry, and Alex could recognize the look for the armor it was. His own leather jacket was a solid weight across his shoulders.

“Hey,” he said with an awkward wave.

The corner of Forrest’s mouth twitched, as did one eyebrow, and his stance softened slightly. “No serenade? No boombox? No diamonds? There goes that fantasy.”

Alex ducked his head with an infinitesimal smile of his own. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Forrest shook his head. “Honestly, I’m just kind of surprised you’re even here. I thought I’d be waiting until I decided to come to you. And shouldn’t you be at work right now?”

Forrest just snorted and moved aside, sitting in a rocking chair and nudging the one beside it with his foot. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

Sitting, they were silent for a while, the world peaceful around them—birds chirping, sun shining, the whole nine yards. Alex watched a small lizard creep across the dirt below the porch railing until it disappeared beneath the house.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you about Michael. That wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry for how I acted and the things I said.”

He swallowed, grimaced, almost, the words juvenile and inadequate to his own ears.

“About Michael staying with you, or…about Michael,” Forrest replied, guarded.

“The first one. Well—both, as it turns out. I thought…I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought. I’m sorry for not telling you that Michael was staying over; that was shitty, I knew the whole time it was shitty, and I did it anyway because I didn’t want to fight. But at the same time, I had no idea you were worried about, well, me cheating on you.”

Sighing, Forrest said, “I told you, man. Unfinished business. It’s kind of visible from space. Before this, I wouldn’t even have thought I was a jealous person, can you believe that? I should have said something to you, but I thought I could just power through it.”

“I guess we both learned things about ourselves,” Alex said wryly. “I didn’t think I had anything to hide, but when it came time to say something about Michael to you, I just clammed up. Would I have felt that way if it was Kyle staying over? Probably not. But I wasn’t thinking about it like that.”

“Huh.” Forrest paused. He rocked his chair slowly forward and back, hands folded on his stomach.

“Did I act weird? Shifty, like I was hiding something?” Alex asked, awkward and vulnerable, embarrassed at how poorly he knew himself, how poorly he knew how he should have acted to not even know that much.

“No, not really. Well, you were pretty distant, but,” he shrugged, “there’s nothing wrong with needing space. It was just…you know, you sang that song at the Pony when we got together, and I had an inkling it was about Guerin, but for some reason I thought I could handle it. Dating a guy who was in love with someone else, who was trying to move on. But it didn’t work like that, huh.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex repeated weakly. “I really thought I was ready. I didn’t mean to lie to you; mostly I was lying to myself. But I know it doesn’t make it any better.”

“Can I ask you a question? Point blank?”

“Um, sure. Go ahead.”

“Were you cheating on me with Guerin?”

“No.” That, at least, he could say firm and clear.

Forrest took a deep breath, dropped his eyes, then looked out across the desert. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I believe you.”

Briefly, Alex had to push down the urge to lash out defensively like he had during their previous fight. Had he really done so much to deserve that scrutiny while they were together?

“Thank you,” he said, not sure of what else needed to be.

“I appreciate you coming here and being honest. I mean…it still kind of stings for things to end this way, but. I do appreciate it. And, well, I’m sorry too.”

“For what?”

“Showing up and exploding like that without giving you some warning. I mean, I’m kind of not sorry it brought things to a head in the end, but it was still rude.”

“No, I should’ve—”

Forrest held up a hand to stall Alex. “No, seriously, dude. The martyr act is cute, but I’m a big boy. Your house is covered in cameras, and you need like two weeks of warning for a coffee date; I knew better than to think showing up like that would be a cute surprise.”

“Oh. Um.” Alex floundered for a way to respond to that. He felt seen, pinned under the lamp of an insight he hadn’t known Forrest had. It was itchy.

“Um, thanks. For the apology. And I get what you mean, about being sorry it happened but not sorry that…well. I really am sorry it ended this way.” If not that it was ending at all.

“Are you?” Forrest raised an eyebrow. “You’re a free agent now. I half-expect Guerin to send me flowers by Saturday.”

Alex winced. But still, he said, “Okay, that’s fair. We kind of, um…”

Forrest let out an ugly snort. “You know, most people double check after a fight like that. Damn, I’m glad I was already planning on breaking up with you for good if you hadn’t gotten the message.”

“I…I know. The way it happened, it just…” Alex sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “I won’t make excuses. You have every right to be mad.”

“I am mad. And hurt,” Forrest said matter-of-factly. “But maybe not as much as I thought I’d be, once the shock cooled off.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.” A smile flickered on Forrest’s mouth, and he shrugged. “Looking back on it, it kind of feels like we’d been forcing it for a while, huh.”

Alex matched him hesitant smile for hesitant smile. Between them there were stacks of stilted conversations and unmade plans, awkward mornings and missed connections. From the morning Fields barged into Alex’s life to the moment he thought he saw his brother at the airport, in the past few weeks there were a number of times Alex had found himself unable to reach out across a gap and meet Forrest there. He’d thought it was just something wrong with him; it was an unbelievable relief to find that Forrest felt the same.

“You might be right,” he confessed.

“Yeah, I think I am,” Forrest sighed. “Damn. That’s probably why my head went straight to cheating.”

“You don’t have to find a way to even that scale,” Alex replied, shaking his head. “I was wrong; I won’t back down from that. But Michael aside, I never wanted to hurt you, Forrest. And I’m sorry I did.”

Forrest chewed on his lip, an old nervous habit. He had a pinprick scar just there, a souvenir from a piercing he’d grown out of, and when Alex would kiss him there, he’d smile. Alex was walking away from this with warm memories, sweet new patterns in the weaving of his life, unexpected treasures. And that in itself was something to cherish, no matter how much their relationship faded into history.

“Yeah, well, same here.”

“You didn’t hurt me, now you’re the one trying to even the scale—” Alex protested.

Forrest cut him off. “I like you, Alex, and I liked our jam sessions, and you made my time in Roswell suck so much less than I thought it would. But there’s a universe where we’re sitting on opposite ends of this, because my book is way more almost done than I’d let on to you just yet, so. Thanks for being such an almost-two-timing emotionally constipated jerk so when I tell my friends this story five years from now I can totally get all the sympathy.”

Alex let out a surprised snort that turned into laughter, and Forrest joined him, if a little more subdued than he’d normally be.

When they collected themselves, Forrest wiped some wetness away from his eyes and said, “Seriously, though, Alex, I hope he makes you happy. Because I don’t think we did that for each other, in the long run.”

“I hope that for you, too, Forrest,” Alex replied softly. “You deserve someone way less fucked up than me.”

“Nah, cut that crap out. We’re all a little bit fucked up.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“It is true. You, me, whoever I date next. My old granny,” he said with the first true smile of the afternoon. “And Guerin, too.”

His smile dropped as quickly as it had appeared, and he leaned forward, reaching out and putting his hand on Alex’s knee; Alex almost shied away, but he forced himself to stay still.

“I just want to make sure,” Forrest said, voice gentle—a gentleness Alex didn’t trust. His composure broke, and he drew back, the slight movement causing Forrest to drop his hand. He continued, “Guerin…he’s what you want? Truly, this is what you want?”

“Yes,” Alex snapped, no hesitation.

“Okay. Just, if you’re sure. If this is really your choice.”

Alex’s patience ripped clean in two. “I know the two of you spent some time together at the library,” he said, voice level and deliberate, “but from what I can tell, you don’t know him at all, so spare me this paternalism, okay? I can make my own choices. Whatever assumptions you’re making—”

“Okay! Okay.” Forrest held his hands up in surrender, but it did nothing to cool Alex’s temper. “I just had to ask.”

“Well, there’s your answer.”

“Noted.”

Alex stood stiffly, and Forrest followed just a second behind. They stood and stared at each other for a few seconds, Alex waiting for him to make a move, Forrest waiting for something Alex couldn’t figure.

Then Forrest stuck out his hand. In the same motion, Alex half-turned, made himself sideways, a smaller target, flowing out of the path if that hand continued forward in a blow. But no, it stayed still halfway between them. Forrest didn’t comment on his reaction. Alex reached out and shook his hand.

“I’ll see you around sometime,” Forrest said. His smile crinkled up the corners of his eyes.

“Take care of yourself, Forrest,” Alex replied.

He left the Long farm the same way he came, down the same dirt road, down the same path in his head, with the same almost-nostalgia. Leaving looked a hundred different ways, and he’d been a hundred different times, but this time the scenery was new, and he was ready to be home.

(15:00)

A lot of work went into making Alex’s house a home.

When he moved from the Valenti cabin closer to town, it was out of necessity, even if it took him a long time to admit it. It was a victory over his own stubbornness and solitude and maladaptive independence, a concession to comfort that surprised even himself. It made his life better. He was closer to work; he was closer to his friends; he had an accessible bathroom, and something he’d considered so small before helped him along a journey he’d barely acknowledged toward accepting and appreciating the body he lived in now. But changing environments wasn’t easy for him. He’d had to put a year’s worth of care into finding the perfect location and fitting the house there to be someplace he could feel secure without complete solitude for miles around him, between the cameras and the vantage point of the patio and the orientation of his bedroom within the house and just everything from top to bottom. He’d fought hard. He won.

And then he came home from breaking up with his ex-boyfriend to find a strange car in his driveway.

Well, not entirely strange. He’d seen it once before. But when he saw it, it was from the vantage point of his own front door, not from the outside.

The car had room to park in the driveway because Michael’s truck was gone, and that was the only mercy Alex knew as he parked in the street and unholstered his gun. Michael wasn’t here; he was safe with Isobel or Max or Sanders or someone—someone who wasn’t Alex, who thought he had a safe space, a space to protect Michael, but in the end had nothing at all. The house hadn’t been empty since Michael’s injury, but now that he was on the mend, it was at times. Michael was alone at times.

Was this the first time Fields had come by? What was stopping her from returning with backup and taking Michael away?

Gun in one hand, phone in the other, there was one defensive maneuver on Alex’s mind before he confronted his enemy.

Michael answered quickly, though every second felt like an eternity as Alex watched Fields watch him, face expressionless, body language placid in her place between him and his own front door.

“Alex—” His voice came through, so light and happy it stole the breath from Alex’s chest. He was okay. He wasn’t shoved in the back of a van, chained and muffled and senseless, his truck abandoned in a ditch somewhere in the desert.

He didn’t let him finish. “Thank God. Where are you, Michael? Are you okay?”

Worry stole the light from Michael’s tone, but Alex could beat himself up for causing that later. “Alex? I’m fine, I’m at the Pony, what’s wrong—”

Alex repeated, “Thank god. Don’t come home, do you hear me? Do not come back to the house until I give you the all clear. Stay with Max and Maria.”

“What? No!”

Alex hung up on him and stowed his phone before leaving the car and crossing the street.

“Captain!” Fields said cheerfully from one of his patio chairs. Her eyes flicked down and clocked Alex’s weapon held at his side, but her demeanor didn’t change.

“What is this about? Get off my property,” Alex almost snarled.

“Sure, Captain. Your call.”

She stood, adjusted her skirt, and pulled her phone from her pocket. It couldn’t have rung more than once before she said, all lightness gone from her tone, “Get me Sgt. Manes.”

Cold clarity broke over Alex’s head and trickled through his veins. His arms snapped up and locked into place, gun pointed directly at Fields, unwavering.

“Hang up,” he ordered.

“You’re in control here,” she replied. “I’ve given you all the time in the world, and now I’m giving you more.” She angled her phone away from her face so he could hear the tinny hold music blaring from the speaker. “If you’re going to keep avoiding me, I’m going to call someone in who has answers and gets results. Or are you prepared to do that for me?”

The music measured the seconds as Alex considered his options, mind apart from motionless body. Project Shepherd, the source of so much pain, so many nightmares. He still didn’t really know what Fields wanted from him, except to continue his father’s work.

But he didn’t have to do that, did he? Put him at the helm of the Project, and he could quietly shut it down from the inside, erase it from existence, reduce it down to nothing. Euthanasia of a legacy.

In a perfect world, if Alex were a perfect man, he would. The path was paved with solid golden intention—but the end of it was hazy. How many times had Alex seen a stranger in the mirror and known he needed to get away from the military to find himself again behind his father’s shadow, and how many times had he made a different decision? How could he be sure this time would be different, that he wouldn’t find reason after reason that Project Shepherd was a necessary evil, that with himself heading it, he was keeping his loved ones safe, working for the greater good, even if they didn’t understand—all in the same uniform of generations, the uniform Michael could barely look at?

So, then, the other choice. Walk away. Let Fields call in Flint or promote some other career man to do what they would, set their traps, work in secret for the eradication of a threat that might never come at the expense of everything Alex held dear. No control, no insight, how many times would he have to fear the ultimate loss, Michael, dead, Maria, dead, their loved ones, dead, their accusing eyes on him.

The uniform laid to rest and packed away, a closed chapter in a life that still had so much living worth in it.

The music looped. Alex’s steady arm began to ache. He was running out of time.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Fields said, voice low and convincing past the jangling notes and Alex’s own pounding heartbeat. “This work isn’t just your legacy, it’s rewarding in its own right. Have you ever wanted to settle down, have a family? This offer comes with total security. No more moving around, way less following orders. I’m sure your lover would appreciate it too—”

That snapped Alex out of his frozen poise, the clanging dissonance making him snort. “My lover? You’re a little late with that one; we just broke up.” He dropped his gun hand. “Hang up the phone. Here’s your answer.”

“Go ahead.”

“The answer’s no.”

Fields’s face turned down, but, true to her word, she pressed end call. Alex reholstered his gun.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed. I was looking forward to working with you. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I hope so too,” Alex replied, surprising even himself that he’d be that candid. But something about Fields’s demeanor diminished with the threat of Flint on hold, almost like she’d pushed so hard because this was something she wanted, rather than something she was under orders to obtain.

Even with her phone silent, though, it represented the same thing—a direct line to Flint, an accessory to a job offer, putting someone with his track record highly placed to wreak havoc. But if Alex made all his decisions based on that fear, he’d never be free. He’d spend the rest of his life running into airport bathrooms after strangers.

And maybe he would anyway. Refusing to let himself be intimidated this once wouldn’t eradicate the real threat the aliens lived under every day. But allowing himself to live between those moments—he owed himself that much.

Shocking Alex further, Fields stuck out her hand, and he shook it.

“Apologies if I was overzealous, sir. I’ve been told I need to work on my impulsivity.”

“It’s—” Alex let out a weak laugh. “Water under the bridge, Lieutenant. What’s with this change of attitude?”

She shrugged. “Disappointment, I guess. A little embarrassment that I waited so long for no payoff. But I won’t force the issues. My superiors have other options.”

There was a veiled threat in there, too, but Alex was too tired to force the issue either. For the second time today, he resigned himself to walking away from stalemate.

“Goodbye, Lieutenant,” he said, stepping aside to let her get to her car.

“Goodbye, Captain.”

The last Alex saw of her was the back of her head driving away. And when she disappeared into the heat haze, he collapsed back into a chair, muscles weak and vision swimming. He stuck his head between his knees and sucked in deep breaths until he landed back inside his body.

When he could stand again, he did, pointing his body toward the door and marching inside. The door was still locked: no sign of forced entry anywhere, not in the front or the back or any of the windows Alex checked methodically, sash, latch, frame. The safe and medicine cabinet were both untouched; he checked each twice; he opened every closet and cabinet door on autopilot. He got on the floor to check beneath both beds; he pulled back the shower curtains.

And when there were no more places to check, he stood in the center of his house, staring down his own cameras, trying to break through the walls his own brain put down around him, trying to regain control.

So on edge, Alex wheeled around seconds before a car screeched into the driveway, the pounding of feet, the scrape of a key in the lock and the door thrown open, and—

“Alex!” Michael cried.

He bounded around the corner, wild-eyed and frantic, and as soon as he spotted Alex standing there, he rushed to him, arms already outstretched. Alex barely got his own arms up in time to catch him, but he didn’t need to; Michael was enough for both of them, steady and strong and there, solid arms around Alex, almost lifting him an inch off his feet. His hands clutched at Alex’s back with a desperation that registered only dimly.

“Alex,” he breathed again, holding him, if possible, even closer, pressing their foreheads together and sucking in a deep shuddery breath. “You’re okay, fuck, I was so scared—”

“I told you to stay away,” Alex said weakly.

Michael’s answering laugh was just as weak, almost hysterical. “You know I’m a rebel.”

They drifted like that for a minute or two, Michael’s warm, soft-rough palms cradling Alex’s face, grounding the both of them, letting their souls settle. Then, he stepped back, those hands on Alex’s shoulders, holding him at arm’s length.

“You’re okay? You’re not hurt? That phone call—you scared the shit out of me, Alex, what the hell happened?”

“When I got home, Fields was waiting for me.”

“What? Fuck!”

“I freaked out, I had to make sure you were safe, that you stayed safe—”

“Are you safe? What did she want? What did she do?”

“I’m fine. Physically, I’m fine,” Alex let his eyes fall shut, wrapping his hands around Michael’s wrists, fragile bones in his grip, and he let Michael hold him, shutting off his senses.

“Okay. Okay, Alex. I’ve got you,” Michael rasped, pressing into him even closer.

“I told her no,” Alex blurted out, pressing right back, starting them swaying back and forth. There was no other way to get close enough but to push and pull, no matter how much they tried to meld themselves into one.

“What?”

“Fields, I—I told her no. No Project Shepherd. No.”

“Alex.”

Michael’s fingers sought across his face, stroking, feeling, calloused finger pads on his brows, his cheekbones, fit so gently against the line of his jaw, tracing his lips and the corners of his eyes, and then Michael’s lips caressed him too, forehead, nose, then mouth, and by the time he was done, Alex’s breath hitched and his body shook.

“I love you,” Michael whispered. “I love you so much. You are—you are so fucking strong, you know that? I know, I know how hard this is, but I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you too,” Alex replied helplessly.

“It’s going to be okay, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

Somehow, Michael spoke with confidence, such a tiny, intimate assurance, no matter how unlikely, no matter how utopian, like a siren it sung to Alex to let go, to give his fear and stress over into Michael’s hands, and he needed somewhere physical for that feeling to go, so he looped his arms loosely around Michael’s neck and rested there.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he admitted. “I don’t know how bad I fucked up—I don’t know how long she was here before I got back—there was no sign of entry, and I checked the house, but I don’t know—I don’t know—”

“Let’s sit down, okay? I’ll get you something to drink, and your meds, if you want, and I’ll, uh, let me tell Max he can go home…” Michael said sheepishly.

“Max?”

“Yeah, he was with me when you called and wasn’t gonna let me rush over here by myself if there was trouble.”

“Good man,” Alex said weakly.

Moving stiff, he sat on the couch. Michael flitted around him for a second, adjusting pillows, giving him a blanket, fingers trailing over him like he wasn’t quite willing to be out of arm’s length. He tore himself away, though, and Alex tracked him from one end of the house to the other, front door, bathroom, kitchen, and when he came back to Alex’s side he was barefoot, glass of water and pill bottle in hand, and he sat on the floor below Alex, leaning back against him, folding himself so his forehead rested against Alex’s hip and Alex could rest his hand in Michael’s hair.

“They’re not going to take you,” Alex promised. “No matter what it takes, whether I told her yes or no, I won’t let them have you.”

“I know,” Michael replied. “But I won’t let you give yourself up, either. We’re together. In everything. No matter what happens.”

“No—”

“That’s why I didn’t listen to you when you told me to stay away,” Michael explained, lifting his head enough to look Alex in the eye. He was as serious as Alex had ever seen him. “You can’t ask that of me. We stand together. That’s…that’s a line in the sand, okay?”

Alex swallowed. “I can’t promise I won’t say something like that again.”

“I know. But just understand—whenever you do, I’m gonna disobey.”

Alex’s eyes slipped shut, lips pressed together, riding out the fear, the straight shot of catastrophe in his brain. Michael’s words, so clear and steady, so different from the people they’d been, the places their relationship languished. Alex had to respect that, even knowing it would likely cause them to fight for the rest of their lives.

“I love you,” he repeated, the best acknowledgment he could give.

Michael smiled, crinkling the corners of his honey-sweet eyes, and Alex twisted a hand in the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward into a deep, sweeping kiss. He moved easy with every move of Alex’s, half-crouched to crawling up onto Alex’s thighs, then onto the couch to straddle his lap, his hot mouth driving deep against Alex’s. Alex’s hands went to his hair, gripping and tugging those soft curls, sliding down his back and back up, they made out on the couch like the teenagers they used to be.

Pulling back to breathe, but not so far Alex couldn’t shift to kissing down his throat and chest, Michael panted, “Bedroom? Do we wanna—should we--?”

“Uh,” Alex stalled out, the light from the window warm where it pooled, Michael’s hardening cock warm where it pressed against Alex’s belly through their clothes. The world was out there, the camera, in the corner, and Alex weighed his options, immediate gratification versus comfort and privacy.

Did they have any privacy, anyway? The image of Fields waiting, alone, at his house, free reign to tamper with whatever she wanted, haunted the edges of Alex’s mind.

“Alex?” Michael asked softly, brushing his fingertips through the overlong ends of his hair.

Their faces were only inches apart, their breaths mingling between lips and lungs, and there wasn’t anything Alex would let keep them from nurturing the happiness finally within their grasp.

“Yes,” Alex said, palming Michael’s hips, “Yes, bedroom.”

Sliding off his lap, Michael reached out a hand, and Alex took it, heat zinging up his arm where they were joined. Michael led the way until they reached the bedroom, where he hesitated beside the bed, watching Alex under his lashes. So Alex sat, pulling him by his belt loops back to straddle his lap like he had on the couch, running his hands up and down Michael’s body as he settled in, his own arms warm and solid around Alex’s neck.

The world held still, then, their eyes locked, electric and hypnotic, Alex’s hands twitching where they rested on Michael’s strong thighs, the scent of rain sharp and sweet in his nose and mouth with every inhale, every breath made tactile in puffs of heat in the space between them. The longer the moment stretched, the higher the temperature climbed, blood filling Alex’s cheeks, blood filling his cock as he waited for Michael’s next move.

That move was to lower his lips to Alex’s once again, slipping his hot, velvet tongue behind Alex’s lips and along his own tongue, flicking it against the roof of his mouth as he opened and relaxed into the languid kiss. As their mouths moved, so did Michael’s hands, cupping his neck then sliding down his shoulders to his chest. He dragged his thumbnails across Alex’s nipples, making him gasp and hiss, and Alex could feel the wicked smirk spread across his mouth even as he didn’t let up, nibbling his lower lip. Hips beginning to sway, Michael’s hands finished their journey at Alex’s waist, under his shirt and tugging it up—it was unthinkable to separate them, but they managed to wrench their mouths apart long enough to pull Alex’s shirt over his head—and then back down, he fumbled with the button on Alex’s jeans, fighting for access to his hardening cock.

Not to be outpaced, Alex did the same, making short work of Michael’s button and zipper even as he was distracted by the heat and velvet and texture of his chest and the sweet line of hair pointing down to his cock. Michael got up on his knees to shimmy his jeans down under his ass, tugging Alex’s off too, and when they were down to just the thin cotton of their underwear Michael let out a soft wavery sound, buzzing right into Alex’s mouth so he could taste the pleasure on it, frotting their cocks together, rubbing the weight of his body down against Alex. With every grind, his ass rolled against Alex’s thighs, a delicious tease, but not tonight, not tonight, it didn’t have to be tonight, taking everything of each other, they had so much time to explore every facet of their intimacy, every way to make each other climax, complete, come up and down all on each other.

“Come on, Michael,” Alex murmured, holding his hips as he ground down again. “C’mon, c’mon.”

“Alex,” Michael whispered back, all reverence.

“You’re so—fucking—” Beautiful, hot, incredible, amazing, all words that Alex didn’t even need to say, saying would cheapen them, and they had a better language, anyway. He tugged at the waistband of Michael’s boxers, and Michael’s dick bobbed free, hard and hot and Alex wrapped a hand around it, luxuriating in the texture and weight of it in his hand. He gave it one easy, loose stroke and Michael shuddered, another little sound falling from his lips.

They got into a rhythm quick—Michael slid his hand into Alex’s underwear to match him stroke for stroke, their hips moving in time, knuckles brushing every time they came together. Alex rolled his thumb over Michael’s slit and dragged the drop of precum collected down his vein, then let out a bitten-off cry when Michael did the same. Even the things Alex could predict were surprising at Michael’s hands.

After minutes of this, after sweat slicked the pace between them, hearts pounding, senses flooded, Michael shifted even closer, chasing Alex’s hand away as it came up his shaft, so he could wrap them both up and jerk them together, fast and rough, both of them fucked Michael’s hand and fucked against each other, Alex’s teeth on Michael’s ear, Michael’s lips against his cheek. Alex dug his nails into the meat of Michael’s shoulders, riding out every wave of pleasure until finally he came in messy, artless spurts over Michael’s hand.

Michael followed shortly behind, a stuttering moan and a pulse of pleasure, and then they both fell back onto the mattress, panting and laughing. They rolled toward each other like magnets, Michael slipping a leg between Alex’s thighs.

“It’s going to be okay,” Michael promised, serenity and certainty in every line of his face, and Alex sighed, pulling his hand to his chest and holding it there.

Michael couldn’t make that promise. Alex couldn’t make that promise. He had, before, and the universe turned it into a cruel joke. Believing it now would be a hard-fought battle.

“As long as we’re together, we’ll get through it,” Michael amended, and it drew a small smile to Alex’s face.

“I’ll do everything I can.”

“I know you will. But you don’t have to do it alone. You aren’t doing it alone.”

Alex answered him with another kiss, sealing it as truth between them.

(Thursday, 07:00)

Michael watched Alex through one lovely tawny eye as he went through the room double-checking there was no stray shirt of Forrest’s or toy of Buffy’s to collect before he made his last trip to the Long farm, to put paid to his and Forrest’s relationship once and for all.

“It’s early,” he said muzzily, through lips still mashed to the sheets warm with his sleep.

“I don’t want to keep this waiting,” Alex said with a wave of his hand, grabbing the bag of Forrest’s things. “Not while I have the day off. Get this done, then get back with plenty of time to prepare for our meeting.”

“Mmm, so efficient.”

“I do my best,” Alex said, hoping it came off as charming. “What are you up to today?”

Raising himself up on his hands, Michael arched his back in a luxurious stretch, muscles shifting in the early morning sun. He groaned as his muscles clenched and released and a couple joints popped, then said in his sweet early-morning rasp, “I should put in a couple hours at Sanders’s. Do we know everyone is coming today? Should I cut out early and meet you back here, or will you guys just be coming to the junkyard anyway?”

“I’ll touch base with everyone, but we’ll probably come to you.”

“Sounds good.” Michael stretched again, then swung his legs around to sit on the bed. One side of his face was flushed, one side of his curls scrunched. A bubble of light filled up Alex’s chest, and he cradled it so carefully, letting it show on his face, just for Michael.

Smiling back at him and rubbing one eye, Michael gestured at the bag of Forrest’s things and said, “How are you feeling? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alex replied, shifting the strap on his shoulder. Then, jaw working his face into a grimace, he added, “And that’s weird, right? I shouldn’t be fine? We dated for months—I should feel something.”

For weeks after his breakup with Maria, Michael had lurked on the edges of himself, head tucked between his shoulders, hands in his pockets. And now Alex turned his back with one last box on a to-do list, a final chore of separation. What did that make him?

“Hey,” Michael said, beckoning Alex forward and sliding his hands to cup his hips when he came. “Look, I don’t have a lot of experience in this area either, but enough with the should, okay? The only feelings you gotta feel are your own. You deal with breaking up however you need to, and so will Forrest.”

Alex took a measured breath, counting in, counting out. “You’re right. Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary,” Michael said, kissing him softly right on his sternum, above his anxious heart. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Alex left a parting kiss on Michael’s forehead and left him to get dressed and get to work. Making the drive to the Long farm for a second time in as many days was even more alien than the first; had he ever gone to Forrest’s so frequently as now, at the end?

The only feelings you gotta feel are your own, Michael said, with the wisdom of many years of terrible feeling, so as he drove, Alex did just that. One of the last sweet moments of their relationship was in a car just like this, playlist on the speakers half indie, half punk, both of them singing along to Pretty. Odd., where the two intersected, an album neither of them liked all that much in isolation but belted out together. For the rest of their lives, whenever those songs came on, for a moment they’d be back in a car together; wherever Forrest went next, in little three-minute bursts his phone would carry a dark desert road with Alex beside him.

For the rest of the drive, Alex turned on his music and let it play.

When he got to the farm and called Forrest, he came out of the house harried. “Why did I think you were bringing this stuff tomorrow?” he asked, a scowl on his face.

“I’m not sure; I had the day off and I thought—”

“Whatever. Thanks.”

A snappish retort leapt easily to Alex’s mind, but he held back. Forrest had reason enough to be mad, and if this was how he felt his feelings, they were broken up now—Alex abdicated soothing and fixing, and he’d take Forrest’s anger on the chin.

Forrest’s eyes darted toward Wyatt’s truck parked on the dirt drive beside Alex and said, “You should get out of here. Have a good life, Alex. I mean that.”

And just like that, Alex’s mind flipped and he couldn’t help himself. “If Wyatt is—”

“No, no, he’s mostly harmless. To me, anyway. But him seeing you here would be more trouble than it’s worth, so.” Forrest shouldered the bag of his things and half-turned away. “Bye.”

Alex didn’t move until Forrest disappeared back inside, gripping the steering wheel too tight until his fingers went cold and stiff. Fuck, maybe he should have waited to return this stuff, or just ditched it; all the closure from their last conversation soured on the tongue. But it was over now. Alex threw the car in reverse.

Then he threw it back into park a few yards down the lane, just out of sight of the main house. Wyatt was always more trouble than he was worth, but something was wrong in Forrest’s tone, and Alex would find out what. He had time, at least an hour, to sweep Wyatt’s most likely haunts, from the horse barn to his rigged-up shooting range.

Head on a swivel, Alex moved methodically, hot and dusty within minutes. The barn bustled with activity, so Alex gave it a wide berth, abandoning it as an option with no sign of Wyatt’s dulcet tones cutting through the air.

His mental map of the farm was imperfect at best, so Alex headed to the shooting range by way of the old barn, despite the distance out of his way, an acceptable risk when compared to the prospect of getting lost.

There was no time to linger, but the sight of the old building and fallen tree struck Alex with twin nostalgia and grief. Tripp’s dog tags hung body-hot beneath his shirt, and he let them, closing his eyes and focusing on that feeling, the chain around his neck, the weight of decades of inaction. He drifted closer to the barn, like returning Tripp’s tags to this place had some sort of meaning, whether blessing or blasphemy, Alex wasn’t sure.

He was still too far away to smell the rain burnt into the wood. Would it have smelled the same in Tripp’s time, rich and loving?

Alex hoped not.

Just as he turned to leave on that sour thought, a familiar voice drifted from inside the barn, freezing Alex in his tracks.

“I’m asking you again—are you—or not?”

What was Max doing here?

Alex crept closer. The response was clearer and came from Wyatt, loud and protesting.

“How are you even asking that right now? I’ve been doing all the shit you tell me for months, you gotta give me some quid pro quo—”

The last three words were a mocking drawl.

The response came, “Everything I’ve told you will come to pass, Mr. Long. Now’s not the time for doubters.”

That wasn’t Max. Alex’s heart pounded in his throat.

“Tsch. Whatever.”

“You’ve come far, Mr. Long. And, as always, I appreciate your talent for gathering information. Your eyes within the town are indispensable.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And you will be duly rewarded: doubly so for patience. Time is of the essence; I have to move while Manes is away—”

The sound of his name flashed hot and sharp through Alex’s frozen body, every nerve coming to life and screaming one thing: home.

#malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #my fic #malex

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 29

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Talltail’s vision was blurry from lack of sleep, and the sunlight streaming through the sparse trees stung his eyes. He trailed behind the border patrol of Fawnleap, Aspenfall, Appledawn, and Mistmouse, sniffing and re-sniffing every bush they passed.

“You already sniffed that tree,” Fawnleap said.

Talltail blinked at him and took a heartbeat too long to respond as he tried to process the sentence. “Just double checking” he mumbled.

“You look like a half chewed badger carcass,” Aspenfall commented. “No offense. But you could probably use another grooming when we get back. StarClan knows I could use a nap too.”

“Thanks for the suggestion.” Talltail replied, not hiding the sharpness in his tone very well.

Fawnleap looked at him a bit longer. “We’re all a bit nervous on this border, but I think it’s been quiet for a while. Don’t worry so much.'' He was clearly trying to ease Talltail’s obvious nerves, but it wasn’t working.

Talltail would never feel at ease on the border with ShadowClan. He tried not to look for the place where Brackenwing had fallen. Even now he swore ShadowClan scent marked the grass, waiting to see Darkpaw signal another ambush. Mistmouse insisted it was just floating over through the tunnel, and a lone apprentice didn’t make an invasion anyway. Talltail didn’t believe that wretched apprentice cared about his clan's rules. But there was nothing to be done about it. His lack of sleep did make him a little more paranoid than normal, as he constantly second guessed whether his senses could be trusted. Worse was that his clanmates started wondering too.

“Are you still having those nightmares?” Fawnleap whispered after Talltail had finally left the bush alone. “I overheard Briarpaw saying you were having bad dreams. What are they about?”

“Foxes,” Talltail lied, “just a whole load of foxes. I think I fell asleep on moss that smelled of one.”

“I had a fox dream last week!” Fawnleap gasped “It was the size of a deer, but it had a lizard tail for some reason?”

Talltail tuned Fawnleap out as he went on about foxes with lizard feet and wings or whatever nonsense had crept into his head that time. Fawnleap made valiant efforts to engage with Talltail and pretend like everything was still fine between their old friends, when his siblings had both since given up on him. The chatty tom usually did most of the talking himself since Talltail didn’t carry conversations well these days.

When they reached the end of the patrol, Appledawn turned back to him as they started to split off.

“Talltail, we’re going to play leap-stones in the heather meadow, would you like to come? Dawnstripe’s going to meet us there.” She offered

“Yes, the rains have finally been away long enough for the ground to dry. It’s a nice day for it.” Mistmouse encouraged.

Talltail shook his head. “Thanks, but there’s a mole nest I was meaning to check out. I’m going to hunt for a while.”

“Alright, but if you change your mind...We could always use another player.” Appledawn said and the two mollies padded off together after Fawnleap, who had already bounded ahead.

The offer was made out of politeness, he was sure. Talltail watched them go a bit sadly. He did want to go, and lounging in the meadow with the sun right overhead sounded preferable to tracking back through the mole hills. But his restless energy wouldn’t let him be idle and content, no matter how his eyelids drooped.

Mole hills were easy enough to find, but the digging was less fun. Talltail’s nightmares were still floating around in his head, and were unfortunately not as simple as being chased by foxes as he’d told Fawnleap. The scrape of his claws in the shallow soil brought the images he’d seen the night before flashing through his head. In this dream, he’d been digging for moles, or maybe rabbits, sure that if he didn’t make this catch, he would starve and die, and so would everyone else. But his claws turned brittle, cracked and bloody, and became useless to him as if he were trying to claw the ground with wet leaves.

He hissed in pain as his paw caught on a rock. He wasn’t in the mood for eating moles at all right now. But so persistent were his dreams that he wondered, maybe if he successfully caught a real mole, it would ease the guilt he felt from failing in his dreams. How about that? Guilt for failing a hunt in my dreams, for StarClan’s sake.

He was thinking so hard about not thinking about his dreams, that he ended up too distracted to catch the field mouse that shot past him. Talltail turned in an instant and leapt after it, letting his instincts guide his claws. If he didn’t catch something soon, he would lose it. But the mouse was gaining on a thick bramble patch he’d never be able to get inside. Suddenly a golden blur shot out and pounced on the creature, Talltail nearly fell over his paws trying to stop himself before he crashed into Dawnstripe. She held the mouse in her jaws and twitched her whiskers in amusement

“That was a close one,” she said as she dropped the limp mouse at her paws. “These bramble patches are such a pain to hunt in, aren’t they?”

“Y-yes. Good catch.” Talltail said. “I...I thought you were meeting Appledawn in the meadow?”

“I will. You don’t want to come?”

Talltail sighed “I told myself I’d catch a few moles on my way back. Still haven't had any luck…”

“There’s a hunting patrol headed back now, the clan will last the day, especially if you take this mouse back.”

“I...just feel better when I’m hunting.” Talltail said hastily.

Dawnstripe hummed “I still get the feeling you're trying to prove something. But you have, Talltail. You're a warrior now, it’s greenleaf and the clan is cared for. You can have fun sometimes too.”

“Hunting is fun.” Talltail said quickly.

“Yes, but so are other things. Your clanmates feel like you're a stranger sometimes, you know.”

Talltail hung his head in defeat and frustration, but he relented a bit. “Dawnstripe...I feel like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing as a warrior.”

Dawnstripe blinked at him in confusion “What do you mean? You’re patrolling, and hunting a lot.”

“I know but...Before all my focus was on becoming a warrior. I had a stricter schedule as an apprentice, and an obvious goal to focus my sights on. Now I’ve accomplished it, and I don’t know what my goal is anymore. I don’t know what I should do differently, without you telling me each day what my task is. I hunt when I can, but I feel like I'm wandering aimlessly.”

“You can do independent tasks now.” Dawnstripe replied simply, “Reedfeather will assign you to a specific one when it needs getting done. You are doing what you're supposed to be doing, Talltail.”

Then why doesn’t it feel like enough? He didn’t want to confess to her how unsatisfying his warrior ceremony had been. It would sound like an insult to her, to say what she had been preparing him for wasn’t enough. Especially when he had no idea how to describe why he felt the way he did.

“You’re right, of course Dawnstripe. I guess warrior is still a title I'm not used to.”

“You know if there’s one thing I learned from mentoring you, it's that you are often your own worst enemy. You’re a brilliant hunter, and you only start misstepping when you overexert yourself and over think.”

“If I knew how to turn my thoughts off, I would.” It was harsher then he wanted it to be and he instantly regretted it.

But Dawnstripe didn’t flinch away. She head butted his shoulder affectionately. “I know it troubles you. You know Talltail, even if I’m no longer responsible for you, I am still here. You can talk to me.”

His anxious scent wouldn’t stop giving him away, and he held his tail under his back foot to keep it from lashing in frustration at how transparent he was. “I know, Dawnstripe. That means a lot. But I’ll keep hunting for now, practice keeps my paws busy. I’ll meet you back at camp this evening. I’ll take your mouse back for you. Have fun with Appledawn.”

Dawnstripe gazed at him for a heartbeat longer and padded away towards the meadow. Dawnstripe had done enough for him. He couldn’t ask her to try and ease him anymore.

He returned to hunting moles, but even if he caught one, he knew it wouldn’t really help the itch he felt.

The more days went by, the more sure he was that his father really had been right all along. Moor running wasn’t satisfying him, but he didn’t know what would. Perhaps his persistent dreams were telling him that. Whether he was chasing or being chased, he always felt helpless and useless, and he never saved any cat he saw being buried. Running did him no good. He was just never fast enough.

***

Talltail returned to camp in a bad mood. Cloudrunner and Redclaw were unimpressed with him as well. He’d gotten carried away in the team hunt and missed Cloudrunner’s signal to him. He had been so sure that he would have been able to catch that rabbit on his own if he’d just been a little faster. But it had outpaced him and he’d accidentally driven it away from the other two, so the patrol returned with nothing. However short Talltail was with Cloudrunner who had been passive-aggressively scolding him the whole way home, he was more frustrated with himself. He avoided hunting in teams as much as possible these days for a reason.

To make matters worse, Woollycloud was waiting for him, offering him a friendly smile, but his bushy tail swished anxiously. Here we go, Talltail thought with a subtle eye-roll.

“No luck?” Woollycloud mewed sympathetically. “Well, every cat has bad days.”

“I seem to have a lot of bad days lately.” Talltail mumbled to himself.

“Are you...doing alright Talltail? Dawnstripe tells me you’ve been distracted on team hunts lately and…”

“I understand. I’ll take more solo hunts by myself to make up for it.”

“That’s not what I mean. She’s worried is all.”

“There’s nothing to worry over. I suppose I’m just not as good a hunter as I used to be.”

“You’re not ageing Talltail.” Woollycloud was clearly trying very hard to keep his tone light. “I only get the feeling… events from the past still weigh on you.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it again Woollycloud.” Talltail said through gritted teeth.

Why was the old tom always badgering him? Couldn’t he be occupied enough with badgering Palebird? He was always trying to coax her into hunts or games. But Talltail didn’t want to be treated like a fragile mouse.

“I know things have changed very quickly in WindClan. Three moons may not be enough time to recover from a particularly hard passing but--”

“No, maybe it’s not!” Talltail snapped.

It was always going to come flooding out if he kept getting bothered by some cat. Talltail was a badly built dam ready to burst apart when the current edged one more branch out of place. “Maybe it is for you, to just forget everything my father worked for, let Heatherstar erase it all and just go on like none of it mattered and do nothing about it, but it’s not so easy for me to ignore. It’s not fair. You may be content to lie around and take advantage of Palebird while she can barely feed herself, but I have other things I wish I could focus on!”

Woollycloud flattened his ears. His eyes widened with hurt and Talltail instantly felt a fresh wave of guilt crash over him. That was so unfair! How could you say something like that!? Woollycloud wasn’t conniving, and he would never try to take advantage of any cat. Palebird had lost her best friend and mate on the same day. He was trying to be there for a grieving clanmate however she needed, StarClan knew she needed something, and Talltail certainly wasn’t helping. But he was too angry to take it back, he just wanted Woollycloud to leave him alone and not bother with him anymore. Maybe hurting his feelings was the only thing that would make him see that.

“I just want to help you, Talltail,” Woollycloud's voice cracked.

“Well I can’t be helped! I was always taught that when something goes wrong, I need to do something to fix it. I can’t fix Heatherstar, and I can’t fix the state of the clan. Nothing I do will be enough. You know, It’s not fair for a cat to do something horrible, and then just be allowed to go off and live their life happily, with no one acknowledging what was done wrong. It’s not right, I don’t care what any cat says. I can’t sleep anymore! Something must be done.”

He whipped around to stalk away, leaving Woollycloud standing there. The old tunneler didn’t come after him again. Talltail stopped and stared at his paws as his own words sunk in, he hadn’t dwelled on the thoughts directly but saying them aloud, it made sense. It was the only loose end he couldn’t ever tie up here.

When he lay awake in camp that night, he could not make himself lift his eyes to face the stars. He did not know what he was afraid to see, but he couldn’t do it all the same. The pinpoints of light reminded him of the gaze of that terrible creature in his dream by the Moonstone. That stupid, confusing dream...But it came to him there in the walls of Mothermouth, it couldn’t have meant nothing. With all the time available to him for his mind to wander, he traced his memory back to the nursery tale that had triggered one of his first memorable night terrors. It was a silly story, clearly an exaggerated telling. But all clan stories came from something, and all of them had meaning buried within. It was about a cat that had returned from the brink of death and all he brought with him was rot, rot eating him from the inside out. He became first a nuisance, and then a real hazard to all of his clanmates. Talltail remembered the desecrated remains of the unstable stone-skinned cat of his dreams, how the very moor wilted and died under its careless touch.

If it was for the best that he left, if he could bring his clan no real good, then let that destructive potential at least be turned on some cat that deserved it.

Maybe that was what it all meant. The restless emptiness he felt... Maybe he could fill it with something else. For just a moment it was snuffed out and replaced with burning fury; the thing that had offered to fill the hollow feeling in his chest before when he sometimes spotted the rogue in his dreams. Cold claws pressed against the hole inside him. This time Talltail did not try to chase it away or suppress it. It wasn’t enough to simply hope that StarClan could punish a cat that had run beyond their skies... Someone had to do more.

The moor itself had felt strange and hostile for moons. This idea had already taken root in the back of his mind long ago, ever since he woke up to watch the visitor leave from camp, and again the night he got his name, but he’d been too hesitant. Trying, and failing, to be the best warrior wasn’t working. But this was a new direction. Something to look forward to, better than the useless nothing he saw for himself otherwise, dragging himself through day after pointless day. And he’d hold onto this new light as long as he needed to. He could sink his claws into it and hold himself up. It wasn’t just an option, it was the only option.

“Talltail…”

Talltail looked up. It was Woollycloud again. He’d still been watching him, debating trying to approach a second time. Despite everything, he was persistent as ever.

“I don’t want to push, I really don’t,” he said, eyes tired and pleading. “Please, if you would just talk to some cat, maybe not me, but--”

“I will Woollycloud.” Talltail replied quickly.

His tone was surprisingly lighter. It was easier to muster up a more falsely positive tone, as the relief that came from having a new direction in sight washed over him. This had to be what these restless feelings were pointing to. He was sure Sandstone would agree.

“I promise.” Talltail insisted when Woollycloud eyed him suspiciously, “I know how to make it better. I’m sorry, really I am, for having been such a pain. I owe you a lot. I promise I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I want you to look after my mother.``

“W-what? I mean, thank you Talltail, but...”

“I’ll go talk with Heatherstar. Thank you.” He said and quickly padded off, leaving Woollycloud again to stare after him.

***

Talltail had to quickly admit to himself that speaking to Heatherstar was a lie. He’d just watched Plumclaw stomp away from a discussion with their leader about which tunnels they were allowed to keep open. Heatherstar didn’t look happy herself, but she was firm on the matter. Talltail couldn’t help feeling some frustration towards her as well, for not allowing him to try and uphold his fathers legacy. But who are you kidding? His little voice in his ear hissed, Even if she had let you try, you would have made a mess of things. Heatherstar was protective of her ruling, aware not every cat was happy about it. The last thing she’d want to hear about was a warrior thinking of leaving, so soon after swearing his warriors oath.

As he stood there facing her den, a rumbling raspy voice made Talltail jump.

“Are you looking for council with our leader, or are you going to stand there like a moon-struck hare all day?”

Hawkheart was lying in the shadow of an overhanging stone, watching Talltail with his dark yellow gaze.

“I…” Talltail stuttered, “N-No. No, I was just spacing out.”

“Hm.” Hawkheart sounded unconvinced. “Well make up your mind. Doubt left to fester can be dangerous. WindClan needs warriors who know where they belong.”

Talltail stared at the old medicine cat. His words felt too pointed to be without meaning, as if he knew what was on his mind. Perhaps he’d agreed with Talltail’s feelings all along. Hawkheart wanting him to leave wouldn’t surprise him.

“Why?” challenge creeped into Talltail’s voice, “Do you know what I would want to ask her about?”

“Not exactly, no.” Hawkheart purred, as rough and unfriendly as a purr could be, “I don’t actually know everything. I just have unusually reliable hunches. I’m not going to tell you what to do. But you’d better make some decision. Don’t just stand there with your paws rooted to the ground forever. Cats are starting to look at you funny.”

Talltail looked over his shoulder and saw Heatherstar had glanced in his direction. She blinked questioningly at him, as he stood a couple fox-lengths from her den. He dipped his head to her awkwardly and turned away.

He was never going to get Heatherstar’s blessing. It was foolish to try. He didn’t have the guts to tell her to her face what he was planning to do, because he had to do it no matter what she said. No worthy warrior would think of it, but he never felt like a worthy warrior to begin with. Perhaps the faster he did what he wanted to do, the faster she could forget about him. If WindClan continued on when they lost two great and noble warriors in Sandstone and Brackenwing...then losing one like him was nothing they could not move on from. He padded away.

chapter list / previous / next

#cw depression #cw self loathing #FRU29 #chapter 29

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hello-there · 5 days ago

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Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!

#tumblr communities #communities

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smolthealmighty · 4 years ago

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Spinaraki Week Level 2 Day 1: Chase

Give Myself To You

When Spinner had the idea to visit his hometown and show off his old hideaways to Tomura, he thought it would be romantic. He could turn these sad places where he went to cry into secluded havens where he could spend some quality alone time with the love of his life, and do something he's wanted to do since their third date. He was not expecting a neon orange pickup truck to interrupt the date by hurtling towards them at high speed.

In which Spinner's old bullies want to run him over with their truck, Tomura wants to beat the shit out of them for daring to try, and Spinner just wants to pop the question.

~~~~~

This was not how this date was supposed go. Spinner just wanted to show his boyfriend around his hometown, give him a tour of all the isolated spots he would hide away in before he eventually shut himself up inside the Iguchi house. It was gonna be a nice romantic getaway, where the places he associated with some of his worst memories could be re-contextualized as he turned them into secluded little havens where he could woo his boyfriend –and eventually propose to him– in peace.

There they were, sitting together at the edge of the forest that semi-surrounded the town, watching the sun start to set over the hilly meadow that lay below them. Tomura was fully relaxed for once, leaning heavily on his boyfriend as he reminisced about the utter disaster that was the one time they tried to go clubbing, while Spinner was mustering up his courage and fidgeting with the rings in his jacket’s pocket. Just as he turned to face Tomura and was about to start the speech he had been revising in his mind since –admittedly– their third date, he saw the unmistakable neon orange pickup truck that belonged to Spinner’s worst nightmares, Nōtarin, Iyaga, and Rase, speeding in the background. And the truck was gunning straight for them!

“Oh no.”

“Hm, what do you mean ‘oh no’?” asked Tomura, who also uttered an “oh no” once Spinner pointed towards the truck that was now only a hundred meters away. With reflexes that were still etched into his bones after years of dealing with the trio, Spinner clutched his boyfriend close and launched the both of them down the hill in a barrel roll, barely missing the thick tires of the truck as it blew past them.

“What the hell was that shit?” yelled Tomura, as Spinner shot up, grabbed his hand, and lead them towards one of the few trees that dotted the meadow.

“Those are the assholes I told you about, the ones who always went after me. One of them must’ve seen me and recognized me, and now they’re picking back up from where we last left off!”

“You last left off with them trying to turn you into roadkill?!”

As they ducked into the hollow, a chorus of brash voices with heavy country accents boomed across the meadow.

“Shuichi, you purse designer’s wet dream! Why don’t you let us mount your lizard head to the wall like the hunting trophy you are!”

“Nōtarin, I saw someone with him, hey gecko geek, do you mind if we mount your friend too?”

“Damn Iyaga, keep it in your pants. Though to be fair, compared to talon-hands you’d probably be a better fit!”

At this point Tomura was already struggling against Spinner to march out of the hollow and wreak vengeance. “C’mon Spinner, I’ll mount their heads on our base’s wall!”

“Would you just gimme a sec to cool down a bit?!” Tomura relented and stopped squirming, letting Spinner hold him as he tried to stop trembling.

“Ugh, I swear, they always know how to get under my skin. And I really thought I’d be over them by now.”

Tomura turned to face Spinner and squeezed him back, taking his boyfriend’s scaly beak and pressing it into his scarred neck. “You’ll be alright. You’re just a little stuck, I’m right here if you need a push you know.”

Spinner sighed as he nuzzled the curve of Tomura’s shoulder. “I know I’m not the pinnacle of dating material but damn, people can have different tastes.”

Tomura snorted, “Oh please, as if those hillbilly bitches know anything about ‘good taste’. If your loyalty and empathy for empty husks like me aren’t enough to prove ‘em wrong, then you having the muscles to be able to wield a giant ‘fuck you’ sword should’ve done the job. The fact they can’t see any of that just shows that their IQ scores are all in the negatives.”

Looking up and seeing Tomura’s self-assured smile, the smile graced his face whenever he was so sure that he was right, knowing that he truly believed that his boyfriend was really all that, melted Spinner’s heart into a puddle of goo.

“Marry me.”

Maybe melted it a little too much.

“Huh?”

Realizing what just came out of his mouth, Spinner blushed violently and tried to start some damage control. “Uh shoot I mean um-”

“Hey Nōtarin, let’s ram into that tree! I think I hear them over there!”

Hearing that brought Spinner back to his senses, and he dragged Tomura out of the hollow, Nōtarin swerving just enough to only nick one of the headlights off the truck before resuming the chase.

“Son of a bitch, I had it all planned out and I messed it up!”

“Had what planned out?” asked Tomura, still in a whirl from what he was pretty sure he heard Spinner blurt just seconds ago.

“You know what, it’s fine, I’ll just do it on the fly. Follow me!”

They booked it across the meadow, Spinner weaving them around the hidden hills and valleys camouflaged beneath the waist-high grass. The truck kept slowly gaining on them, but the constant bangs and thumps of the truck bouncing against the uneven ground and the arguing between the driver and his passengers betrayed how little the tormentors knew about the terrain.

“Dammit, stay still you lizard-fuck!”

“Nah, let him keep running. Makes the chase more exciting!”

“Maybe if you’d gotten your driver’s license, you’d actually be able to hit him Nōtarin!”

“Fuck off Rase!”

Jumping over a particularly thick mud puddle, Spinner finally began the speech that had been previously interrupted.

“I’m sure you already know that I fell for you pretty fast-”

“Understatement of the year, but I’m not one to talk.”

The neon orange paint was splattered with mud, with the new coat of brown getting bigger as the wheels spun, sluggishly making its way through the puddle.

Spinner laughed breathlessly as he continued, “-yeah, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able put how much the love you gave me in return means to me into words. I couldn’t do it even if the ocean was made of ink and the earth was paper, it just wouldn’t be enough.”

“Shuichi…”

“And, well, since I can’t use words, I thought I’d show my devotion with some kind of gift, but I don’t really have much to give you except myself. Still, I’ll give that to you for the rest of my life if you want it.”

By this point they had stopped just a few feet in front of a moss-covered boulder, one that blended in with the green grass and was in the direct pathway of the truck that continued driving towards them at top speed.

Ignoring the oncoming truck, Spinner took Tomura’s other hand into his own, and softly asked, “Tomura, will you marry me?”

The truck hit the rock, skyrocketing up and over the couple. The screams of the driver and his passengers fell on deaf ears as Tomura gazed into bright, cherry-petal eyes and answered the proposal:

“You’re more than enough for me, you’re more than I could ever dream of asking for. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Not even a moment after he accepted, a loud crash echoed across the meadow as the truck collided with the ground, flipping over as it did so. The bullies were quick to exit the wreck and make their way towards the still lovestruck duo to attack them. It was a farce from the start, the newly established fiancés barely paying them any attention as they began to brawl.

“Look at you all smiley and shit,” said Tomura as he kicked Rase across the field.

“Why wouldn’t I be all smiles? I’m gonna get to marry to the love of my life! You should see your face right now, looks like your smile’s gonna split your face in two with how big it is!” exclaimed Spinner, dodging Nōtarin’s sluggish punches with ease.

“Touché, fiancé. I bet you’ve already got a plan for everything that comes next, you gooey romantic.”

“Well, I was thinking we could have a small ceremony, just us and the league. Nothing too fancy, we’d just do the vows, ring exchange, ‘I do’s’, and sealing it with a kiss, all within fifteen minutes tops. That way we can splurge on the reception, the best music-” Nōtarin screamed as his arm was sliced by Spinner’s hunting knife.

“-the most delicious food and drinks-” Nōtarin gurgled as the knife ran through his neck.

“-and a cake so big that’ll make everyone sick. We’d just have to grab someone to officiate the thing and make it official.”

“We can get Giran to do it, he’s got just enough connections that he could make it happen.” Iyaga howled as his chest caved in.

“And for the honeymoon, I was thinking about taking a joyride on the coastline. We could stock up the van and make stops at all the beaches, and maybe get rid of a few heroes along the way if we’re up for it.”

“That sounds good to me, I’m certainly looking forward to having some fun alone time to ourselves!” Tomura cried happily, as Rase joined Iyaga in the pile of dust that lay at his feet.

By the time they came down from the high of the fight, the sun was dipping below the tree line, Tomura and Spinner sprawled out next to each other on the bloodstained earth.

“Ah shit,” said Tomura, “I just realized that there goes my future date idea of murdering your hometown bullies.”

Spinner chuckled at his fiancé’s annoyed tone, “That’s okay, we only murdered a couple of them. Next time we can take down the town leaders who encouraged everything, make a day out of it.”

“Hmm, alright, but I’m planning it. It’s only fair.”

Satisfied, Spinner let out a sigh before suddenly sitting up. “Oh right, I gotcha these,” he said as he pulled the rings out of his pocket.

“It’s just a pair of those plastic rings from the arcade we went to a while back, but I figure we’re not gonna wear these for too long because they’re just engagement rings. We can rob a jewelry store together to pick out the wedding rings.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Tomura, as they each took turns slipping the rings onto each other’s fingers. Taking a second to let the presence of a ring on his finger sink in, Tomura smiled and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful that Re-Destro only snapped off my first three fingers.”

“Well, that’s one way to say you’re happy to be engaged,” Spinner joked.

“Hm. Then I’ll say it more romantically, just for you.” This time, it was Tomura who took Spinner’s hands into his own as he spoke his piece:

“Shuichi, you are one thing in this world that I could never hate, and the only person I will ever promise myself to. I’ll do whatever it takes to give you the life you want to live. I love you, and I’ll continue to love you until the stars grow cold, and even after that.”

If that speech hadn’t already swept Spinner off his feet, then the deep kiss Tomura initiated sent his heart skyward with how much it fluttered. When they both came down to earth, they went about flipping the thoroughly beat-up truck right side up, and as the last rays of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon, the newly engaged couple drove off into the ink and lavender sky.

#SpinarakiWeekLevel2 #SpinarakiWeek2021 #spinaraki #shigaraki tomura #spinner #shuichi iguchi #smol’s stuff #smol's stories

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talldarkandroguesome · 3 years ago

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18th of Evening Star, Loredas

The majority of my journey towards Lilandril was along, or close by the coastline. The road continued to curve westward and at a point, I came to a large circular courtyard with a statue of a finely dressed Altmer pointing. Behind the statue was a wide staircase, leading to a towering building. Something big enough to be a castle, though it was clearly some other manner of building, though I did not fully understand the the Altmeris inscription to know for certain.

Even after passing the large courtyard, there was an additional archway with stairs leading up to an adjoining building. Perhaps it was some sort of educational facility with separate dormitories? Or perhaps there was some reason to have a nobles and commoners entrance? I would not put it past Altmeri society to have such strict class divisions.

When I had gone beyond this, I traveled onward and found myself at a large bridge. As I crossed, I saw the large, deep river below, listening to the pounding of the rapids against the rocks as they made their way towards the sea.

I should have liked to have stopped and taken in the beauty of of the natural scene, but I had not the time to do so.

Instead, I continued as the road sloped steadily downwards. The rocks around me seemed to be encrusted with shells and then, as I went further, with what looked like steadily larger and larger formations of coral rocks.

Small winged serpents and crabs, reminiscent of mud crabs, though far larger and with large chunks of sea plants growing upon their carapaces, made their way amongst the marshlands that spread out on either side of the road.

In places, the road was submerged in water and one had to watch not to step on one of the creatures, seemingly unafraid of the presence of a person strolling by. I thought of how much both animals would be prized as exotic pets back home in the east.

At last I reached a small wooden bridge, pools of saltwater abound and I could see, ahead in the distance, the looming towers of the city of Lilandril. So I decided that, since I still had some daylight left, that I should look around the countryside in search of the healer’s home.

I marked roughly where I was heading off the road onto my map with an arrow in the direction I headed, knowing I could trust the sun to keep my direction consistent.

And so I stayed on rocks as best as I could as I traversed the marshy landscape around the city.

I eventually found what appeared to be the ruins of some sort of garden, the stone statuary long since broken and crumbled so that only the base and the legs remained. Around it were broken columns and worn down benches and planters. Even steps could just be made out from beneath the vegetation.

As I looked around, I saw a large manor not far away. I wondered if perhaps this was the home of the healer, but when I finally made it to an entrance way, I found that it was no home, but a fortification of some type.

Not wanting to bring any trouble upon myself, as my position is already precarious at best in this land, I decided to double back and head along the coast to continue my search.

I was about to give up when I heard a strange noise. I turned towards it and say the body of a large lizard. It was not as large as a Wamasu, barely even half that size, perhaps a third. It was a deep greenish color in the fading light of the late afternoon, save for a long yellow blaze across each side. It raised it’s tail and called what I assume to have been a warning.

I took a step backwards and heard another call behind me.

Now, I assumed that they were likely going to be much the same as a regular lizard, only larger and perhaps more territorial, so I assumed if I got out of their territory, they might simply leave me alone.

I took off running, knowing I could always teleport if need be.

It took little time before I had to. But not simply to flee, but rather, to dodge.

The fetchers shot flames! Not a sort of spitting, the way a wamasu does, but in gouts and balls, the way a proper mage would.

It was such a shock that I had to pull my shadows to myself and travel invisibly across the rocks to avoid having the ripples in the water give me away.

Eventually they gave up on their pursuit and I found that I had, in the heat of the moment, gotten myself turned around. With the towering rocks, on all sides, I could not make out the exact source of light. And I only roughly knew where the sound of the waves was coming from, for the echo of the ocean seemed to dance around you, a melody that could get a mer killed.

It took me a bit of time, but eventually, I was able to head far enough away from the sound of the ocean to break out of the rocky area and see, to my dismay, just how low the sun had truly sunk. I looked at the map, but could not find an easy way to judge exactly how far away the road might be.

So I decided that it would be best to find a spot and make camp, at least until I could rest for a little while, recover myself, then try again. But I feared running into any more of those lizards while I was sleeping, so I knew I needed to look for a protected spot. Since I had run into the things in the lower, marshy areas of the coastline, I decided to head for higher elevation.

The climb was slow going, the ground sandy and soft and easy to lose your footing on.

By the time I reached a place where it seemed to flatten out a bit, it was truly dusk. I looked around and saw, in the dim light, what looked to be a small homestead.

I knew that it was unlikely this was where I was looking for, or that the occupants might be amenable to a Dunmer asking for shelter for a couple of hours, but I decided to push my luck and ask for mercy. So I cautiously approached the home. There was a small garden around the side that looked like it had been harvested, other than some shrubs and herbs. There was what looked to be a chicken coup, though I heard no chickens within. And I noticed that there were no lights on inside.

With a deep breath, I went to the door and gave a knock.

After waiting a minute without any answer, I tried again, more firmly this time.

Still there was no sign of anyone within.

I raised my fist and went to pound on the door when I had a sharp pain in my hand.

Pulling back I realized I must have hit a nail with the side of my hand. I made a small flame in my hand to observe the injury. It was bigger than I had thought, but not as deep.

As I turned to find the source, I saw there was a small parchment notice that had been nailed onto the front door.

There was a great deal written in Altmeris on it, but at the very bottom, there was a note in Imperial that simply stated that the healer had accepted an invitation to work at the College of Sapiarchs until further notice and to forward on requests for his assistance with some office in Lilandril to petition for his help.

I was disappointed to read that. My hand seemed like such a minor aspect of the failures of the day, yet it seemed to ache far worse for it. I felt hollow. Well, hollower than usual. There was no energy left in me then.

Out in the darkness I could hear the strange sounds of creatures I could not see, so I decided to stay the night inside the healer’s home. By the light of my flame, I picked the lock and went inside.

The place was well lived in, it seemed that the healer had not removed all of his furniture from the home, though there were many empty places where he had taken possessions large and small.

I found a small bed in the back and was thankful that there was still linens upon them. I decided it would be best not to smell them and see just how long it was since their last laundering, not knowing the cleanliness of the mer in his personal life, and I curled up under them.

At first when I started to write, I thought that the thick blanket would be far too heavy for the Isles, but as the night wears on and night’s salted chill whistles through the cracks in the small cottage, I am ever more grateful to have it.

I have decided it is best to avoid traveling at night if possible. Even if it puts me further behind, I fear that my attempts to this point have only cost me time rather than gained it.

With any luck some sleep will put me in a better mood. At least now I know I must head to Lilandril directly. My goal has, at least, become far more clear.

#ESO #TES #RP #Dunmer #Elder Scrolls Online #The Elder Scrolls

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frostsinth · 4 years ago

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A Line in the Sand - Pt. 2

Intro - Part 1| - MasterList

Another part of this lovely Lizardman for @ivymemnoch‘s commissioned Monster Match. It’s fun to have all these lovely little misunderstandings between them. In this section, Devaraj’s reveals a bit more about his profitable work, and Sera thinks about taking off.

Want your own Monster Match? DM me for prices! Check out my MasterList above for a smattering of other stories and ramblings, and please feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there.

Always looking for ART-spiration, so feel free to drop me an ask or comment with some of your thoughts!

In the end, I’m not sure what woke me. Was it the soft thrum of insects, waking with the first rays of dawn? Or perhaps it was the soft twitter of birds, that grew from a petering distant echo to a soothing trill around me. I remember hearing the soft snorting huff of Nur, sensing the big draft had wandered close to my sleeping spot. Feeling his heavy steps shake the ground slightly before he drifted off again. Whatever the cause, my eyes slowly opened, and a yawn stretched my mouth.

It took me a few belated moments to reconcile my current place with my memories of the previous evening. I blinked groggily a few times, rolling and looking about. As my brain woke more, I considered the soft tented cloth over my head, and the warm bedroll around me. The scent of sand came to my mind, but not to my nose, and I realized I was alone in the makeshift shelter once more.

I rolled again, shifting and shaking the last of the sleep from my eyes. Managing to pull myself up and look around the small clearing. But the reptilian man was nowhere to be seen. Nur stood by the side of the small nest we had made, snuffing and huffing at some dried branches. The saddle and bags were still where I had left them the night before. So wherever he had gone… It couldn’t have been far…

“...Shri?” I called hesitantly, rubbing at my arms as I emerged from the soft warmth of the blankets. There was no answer, and straining my ears, no sound of movement.

Slowly, I crawled out from beneath the tent, peering between the bows and trunks of the trees around us. I could just make out the road in the distance, and sighed as the soft crackle of leaves crunched under my boots. For a moment, I thought this might be a blessing… and opportunity to escape. Certainly he was out of sight and earshot, and he had opportunely left all of his supplies behind. I wandered over to the bags, glancing at Nur almost guiltily as if the horse might betray my malicious thoughts. I shifted from foot to foot, glancing about. But I was confident the strange man was nowhere near.

I kneeled beside the bags, and started to reach out to one. Then I hesitated. A flash of intense yellow eyes, the glint of teeth. Not frightening, but instead… friendly. Welcoming. Kind. I sighed again, shaking my head at the nerve of my conscience and dropping my hand. I also couldn’t quite shake the reminder of his words when I had asked him if he was worried I might steal from him; “You could certainly try. It would be amusing.” … I wondered if perhaps there was a magical charm on the items, or if there was some sort of anti-thief trap… Well, I would just wait, I determined. Until we reached the next town. That way, I wouldn’t have to risk anything nor take his supplies, and could simply slip away into the shadows. Honestly, it was probably for the best I left. I doubted he knew exactly what kind of trouble he had gotten himself into when he had signed me on.

Shaking myself again, I stood and slowly pivoted on one foot. Looking around the small clearing again. Wondering where exactly my new ‘employer’ had gone. I walked over to Nur, who lifted his behemoth head as I approached and wuffed softly, his huge flanks fluttering with the deep breath. He nudged me with his big nose, his nostrils flaring, and being that his head was almost the size of my entire torso, even that gentle touch had me staggering a step to maintain my balance. He snorted again, taking a step towards me and flattening his forelock against my chest. I scratched behind his speckled grey ears absent-mindedly, still looking about.

“Do you know where he went?” I asked the gelding, then had to jerk back to avoid being tossed aside as he lifted his head and shook it with another loud snort. I smiled, wondering if that was a real answer, and patted his velvety nose. “Well, I suppose I should go look for him then?”

Nur looked at me with his big, dark eyes, and no answer seemed forthcoming. I ran my hand up and down his nose, then turned and considered my options. The way back towards the road seemed mostly clear; unless he had gone there and travelled up or down its length a ways, I should be able to see him from where we were camped. So that left the notion that he had headed deeper into the woods. I gave Nur a final pat, then began to pick my way through the woods beyond.

“Shri?” I called softly, the unfamiliar word still heavy on my tongue.

I was careful to keep a scan of the surroundings as I moved, not wanting to accidentally miss him during my search. I doubted that would be very likely; even with the vegetation, the man was far too large and broad to simply hide in plain sight. Though his mottled green scales might blend rather well with the shifting foliage. The chill night before reminded me that fall would be upon us sooner rather than later, though the air was very mild now. I wondered briefly how the cold-blooded lizard man would fare in the snows, and had an amusing image of him hibernating in a log cabin with a roaring fire and a bloated belly. A few yards in, I heard the sound of running water; perhaps a small stream nearby. I decided that it might have also drawn his attention, and turned to make my way towards it.

I caught sight of his shoulders between the trunks of the trees, and almost sighed with relief. I didn’t notice until I had broken through the treeline that it was not the beaten grey of his cloak that caught the fresh morning sunlight, but the green of his bare scales. A delayed heartbeat later, I realized he was completely without clothes again. I nearly fell over as I staggered to a halt, frozen in place by the full sight of him, unobscured by steam or darkness.

The crisp golden rays splashed down his broad shoulders, pricking his mottled green into a smoky emerald color. The scales looked smooth, and rippled as he drew in long, deep breaths. His broad shoulders were squared, and I was again stunned by their width, at least double my own. From this angle I could clearly see the base of his four dark grey horns protruding from his skull before curling forward, and the delicate fan of the leathery skin on the top of his head between the spikes. I followed the curve of his spine down his muscular back, each muscle more pronounced and defined by the shape of his large scales. Tracing down to the point of his spine, just about his bottom, where his tail protruded. It was long and thick, perhaps thicker than my thigh, with a flat top studded with the soft flat spikes on either ridge. I hadn’t gotten nearly so good a look at it before... I wondered how much he could move it. He had it half curled around, forming a semi-circle around his large, muscular legs which were neatly folded in a criss-cross pattern beneath him. I could see his huge arms were relaxed, palms resting open on his knees and the soft yellow/cream color of the scales there bathing in the light.

“Good morning, Sera.” He called lightly without looking over his shoulder. His thick voice had me jumping in surprise. I saw his head tilt, saw the flash of his yellow eye as he considered me out of its corner. “I trust you slept well.”

If he was upset I had been spying on him, he didn’t show it. Nor did he seem particularly concerned that he was completely without clothes; I noticed them folded neatly into a pile beside him. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pulsing of my blood beneath my cheeks.

“Ah… Apologies, shri… I did not mean-”

He made a noise deep in his chest, shaking his great horned head. “I am merely greeting the sun, Sera. There is no need for your words.” The tip of his tail twitched. “Come, join me.”

“Greeting the sun?” I echoed, venturing closer tentatively.

He nodded looking up at me. Even sitting, his head was nearly to my shoulders. “Yes. I believe it is similar to how you humans… what is the term, break fast?”

I started to answer, then suddenly gave a soft ‘eep!’ instead as his hand wrapped around my wrist and yanked, firmly but gently. I tumbled onto his lap, and he wrapped his huge arms around me. I was so startled, my mouth dropped open, and I froze. A deep rumble formed in his chest, vibrating against my cheek, and his thick flat tail came around and dropped heavily across my lap. Further entombing me in his embrace.

“W-what are you doing?” I stammered, so surprised I forgot to try to wriggle free.

His scaled brows were arched slightly when I finally managed to pull my head far enough back to look up at him. I stiffened as I felt the tip of his tail flick where it had fallen on the inside of my thigh. A fresh wave of heat washed through me, and not all of it went to my face. Pressed against him, I was once again surrounded by the scent of sand. His scales were smooth and silky over his firm muscles, and I was given the distinct expression of touching a rock that had been warmed by the sun. Part of me wanted to run my hands over those scales. To feel the grooves and see if they lifted and overlapped or met carefully at the edges.

“I am returning your warmth, Sera. As you so kindly shared yours with me last night.” His words brought me to the present and I jumped a little. He titled his head curiously to the side. “Though you seem quite warm already. Have you been sunbathing as well?”

“N-no,” I finally remembered how to move, and started to wriggle, trying to right myself and scramble out of his arms, “I just woke up and found you gone so-”

“Ah, I forget that humans do not sunbathe. Save for pleasure.”

I found the way his tongue rolled over the word ‘pleasure’ was far too much for me. He unwrapped his arms but otherwise did not try to help or hinder my fight to regain my feet. I clumsily rolled from his lap onto the soft grass in front of him first onto my bottom then settling on my knees, glancing up at him through my lashes. His long scaled lips curled back again, revealing those sharp teeth in what I assumed was a smile. His tongue slipped out, and I swallowed hard again as a tingling rush went through my body. I cleared my throat, and rubbed at the back of my neck.

“How long have you been out here?” I asked, trying to change the subject and looking for something else to stare at besides his broad chest.

He gave a soft hmm, eyelids drooping in a pleased manner. “As soon as the air began to warm this morning. But now that you are up, we can be on our way.”

I fell back on my hands as he stood, his big body moving with a languid grace that I found surprising for his size. I craned my head back to look up at him, and couldn’t help my jaw dropping open a bit. By the Gods he was big… and there was far too much of him to see without his clothes. I couldn’t help skimming my eyes over a particularly private point between his hips (if only ever so briefly on the way up to his face) and was slightly surprised to see… nothing. The same smooth scales of his stomach as far as my quick glance had perceived. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. My mind wandered dangerously and I felt my cheeks flushing darker. He offered me that toothy, lipless grin again and his large clawed hand. I wondered if he knew what I was thinking, and my guilt had me hot at the collar as I sheepishly put my hand in his.

“Why not head back,” He told me as he gently pulled me to my feet, “Start packing camp while I get dressed. We should be able to reach the next town in an hour or two, and can have our meal at their tavern. Yes?”

I nodded, my tongue still too large for my mouth and my head still buzzing with thoughts that really should never be brought to light. I didn’t wait for further instruction, heading back between the boughs. Within a few minutes, I broke through the trees to find Nur nosing the tent canvass curiously. He raised his big head when I approached, and gave a huff that sounded oddly disinterested for a horse. I patted his velvety nose briefly, then went about rolling back up the tent and bedroll and tying it tight. Trying hard to dislodge the image of sun warmed scales from my mind. I was just hoisting up the saddle with both hands when Devaraj returned, his scarf hanging loose about his shoulders but otherwise fully dressed again. I couldn’t help the wandering eye that drifted down the edge of his low collar as he strode over.

“Excellent, thank you, Sera.” He praised me, taking the saddle from me and easily slinging it over Nur’s back. The draft bobbed his head almost eagerly.

I was glad he had returned when he did; I wasn’t sure I would easily be able to reach the big horse’s back. As he secured the straps, I gathered up the bags and bedroll over my shoulders and carried them over.

“Do you have… business in the next town?” I asked, curious despite myself. I realized suddenly that my opportunity to part ways with the reptilian man would be coming sooner than expected... It left me with a strange tingling regret in my chest.

“Not in the town, as such, but in their crypt.” He told me, taking the bundles and slinging them behind the saddle. I moved around to the other side to secure them there.

“Their crypt?” I echoed, surprised.

“Yes, crypt is where-”

“I know what a crypt is,” I interrupted, and slipped under Nur’s neck to come around to the same side as him again, “But what business do you have at a crypt??”

His toothy grin returned. “Ah, I am what my people call a prizrasha. A… charmer, I suppose would be the best translation. Of spirits.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Yes? Do you need to pass?” He looked at me, his fierce eyes curious. “Why do you say ‘excuse me’? Do you need some time to yourself?”

“No.. I mean... “ I shook my head, blinking stupidly a few times trying to sort myself out. “I-I said it like… excuse me, as in I’m not sure… I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

“Ah! Excellent, I did not know this.” He started to turn back to finishing securing the saddle and removing Nur’s hobble. “I said I was a prizrasha, as my people call us. And we are spirit charmers.”

“Y-yes, I heard the words,” I stammered, stepping out of the way as he moved to secure the reins and flip them over the gelding’s head, “I’m just not certain I understand what you mean by… “spirit charmers”.”

“Hmm.” He patted Nur’s flank, turning to look at me. “I suppose it is a rather inadequate description.” He stood by his mount’s head, taking up the reins and jerking his chin towards the road as he began to lead him out. “What is it that your people call ‘spirits’?”

“A ghost.” I replied, following him hesitantly. “A phantom. The… spirit of someone who has died that lingers on this plane.” I tried to keep the shiver from my voice.

He nodded along as I spoke. “I believe I see. This is a part of it, I am sure. However, I suppose the translation is poor… Nessiim have a stronger word for it. The dushrasha. It is the spirit of those who have passed, yes, but it is also in those still living.” He paused, seeming to struggle for words. “It is… hard to explain in this tongue.”

“So… What is it that you do with the… dushrasha?” I asked timidly, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. If I had thought him strange before, I certainly found my previous thoughts on him downright dull compared to them now.

“I charm them.” He replied, his voice light with the teasing tone returned to it. “A prizrasha speaks to the spirit and can cure what ails it. It is a form of healing that is not limited to the living.”

We had reached the road now, and Devaraj pivoted Nur to face the right direction before turning to me. I took a step back warily, then stopped myself. I placed a steadying hand on the draft’s flank, turning over his words in my head.

“... I-I’m still not sure I understand what it is you do-”

“It is rather simple, I suppose,” He placed his hands on his hips, looking down at me with his head tilted to the side, “A prizrasha is uniquely skilled at dealing with all manner of things. Sometimes, I am called to deal with a so-called malevolent spirit, other times to heal someone deeply scarred beyond the reach of local healers. Yet other times, to deal with untamable beasts.”

I opened my mouth to say more, but was silenced by the gasp that escaped instead as he hoisted me up, his big hands scooping around my waist, and sat me at the horn of the saddle. I quickly adjusted, swinging one leg over so I could properly sit rather than riding side-saddle again. A breath later the leather squeaked as he bounded up into place behind me. I tried not to stiffen as I felt the rough material of his tunic brush my back. Nur was already moving before he had fully settled, eager to be off.

“And for this particular… job?” I managed, my voice whisper soft.

“A dushrasha has been harassing the town, or so I am told.” He explained. “I will be seeing what ails it, and hopefully helping it leave this plane to its final resting place.”

A shiver went down my spine, and I jumped a little as his big arm came around my hips. Perhaps it was meant as a reassuring gesture, but instead it had me swallowing the lump that formed in my throat at his words. It’s fine, I told myself, you’ll be leaving soon. It doesn’t matter what he does.

“Have I upset you?” He asked as he used his big thighs to steer Nur around a deep rut in the road. I was surprised that his voice sounded… concerned.

“Ah.. n-no shri.” I assured him, and hoped again that part of his strangeness did not extend to being able to detect a lie. “I am just… surprised…”

“Dushrasha are not evil, Sera, even those without a body left on the mortal plane.” He told me as we rode along. “Most are pained, or tied by some grief or unfinished business. In both the living and the dead.” I felt his chin come to rest on the top of my head. “Think of me as a Healer, though perhaps at times this word is also a stretch.”

I nodded, falling silent. Trying to reconcile with the writing snake that was my stomach turning knots in my gut. We rode quietly for a time, and I tried not to pay too much attention to the soft sensation of his chest rising and falling against my back. I jumped again as his arm coiled about my middle suddenly flexed.

“If you are afraid, Sera… Please do not be.” He told me, his muzzle now beside my ear. My eyes flicked to the corners, as if they would be able to see him from there without moving my head. His long tongue flicked out, nearly grazing my cheek as it did. “I will keep you safe. No harm shall come to you, I promise.”

I felt my blush returning, and dipped my chin down. A thousand different possible responses came to my lips, but I could abide by none of them passing beyond. So I remained silent, giving only another curt nod in response.

It mattered not, within another hour we were at our destination. A small hamlet with a dozen buildings or so clustered around a main field. There were other houses in the distance, likely farmers and hunters. I doubted there were many people here who did not live off the land. We rode over a crest in the hill, then down the long muddy road. Heads raised as we passed, and whispers were quickly exchanged. I saw more than a few shoulders tense and hands go for the nearest item passable for a weapon. I shifted in the saddle, but a glance over my shoulder did not reveal how Devaraj felt about his welcome.

We rode unmolested into the center of town, stopping beside the tavern (as indicated by an old swinging sign in the shape of a foaming mug over its door). Nur tossed his head and snorted in irritation, obviously displeased with the likelihood of being stalled again. He scooped one meaty hoof into the soft ground, tossing clumps behind him as Devaraj slid from the saddle behind me.

“Go and procure us some food, yes?” He told me as he helped me down from the saddle. “I will secure Nur and bring in our bags. Then we shall notify the town leaders that we have arrived.”

I glanced over his shoulder at the numerous eyes lingering on us as he dug through the purse at his hip and pressed a few coins into my hands. Based upon what I saw, I doubted very much we would need to announce our arrival.

But I did as I was told and turned to duck into the tavern. Ignoring the eyes following me and the whispers brushing just beneath the scope of my hearing. I wondered briefly how good Devaraj’s hearing was.

The tavern was dim, dusty, and in disrepair. There were a few patchy holes in the rafters that allowed thin beams of broken sunlight to filter past the old wooden frame and hit the dirt ground below, and were the main source of late as the windows were far too grimy to provide much. A spattering of tables, mostly empty save for a few seedy sorts nursing chipped mugs, and a greasy bar at the far wall that looked as though it had seen better days. A few heads raised as the door thunked closed behind me, but interest was quickly lost in favor of whatever content they sipped from their cups. I made my way over to the bar, where a large bellied man sat rubbing at a mug with a dirty cloth.

“Ay, miss, what’ll ye need?” He asked as I approached, his voice gruff but polite.

I nodded to him in greeting. “Two breakfast plates. Sausage, egg, biscuits. The whole works if you have it.”

He returned my nod, placing the cup on the counter and slinging the cloth over his shoulder. “No’ a problem, miss. That’ll be three piece, yeah?” When I dropped the coin in his extended meaty hand, he gave me a cheery, broken toothed grin. “Ye’ll be wanting something to wet yer palate too?”

“Ale would be fine.” I replied, leaning against the bar for a moment and glancing around. The man disappeared into the back room, and I heard pots clanging and the creak of a stove cover opening.

I lingered for a minute on my meal request. Wondering if it would be sufficient. After all, I had forgotten to ask what Nessiim ate. I chewed over this for another moment, before a sudden wave of realization washed over me like a bucket of cold water splashed at my back. This was my opportunity. Devaraj would be otherwise occupied, and I could easily make myself scarce even in a town as small as this. Maybe even catch a ride with a traveling merchant or farmer to the next town. Certainly I didn’t want to have anything to do with his… work. A shiver worked its way down my spine at the thought of our earlier conversation. But it was quickly replaced by the skipping beat of my heart in my breast at the memory of his muzzle next to my ear… I will keep you safe. No harm shall come to you, I promise... I rubbed my fingers against the worn wood of the bar, trying and failing to assess why I suddenly felt so reluctant to leave. I had always been on my own, for as long as I could remember. What could possibly make me want to change that now? I glanced about again as my anxiousness rose, and my palms itched to relieve the room of their valuables, sparse as the pickings would be. Something to take my mind off… I shook my head and sighed. Resisting the urge.

The door thunked open again and I peeked over my shoulder to watch the reptilian man duck his huge horned head to fit beneath its frame. His entrance had the current patrons reacting much differently than my own; I saw them stiffen, uncurling from over their drinks and wary scowls quickly forming on their lips. If he noticed, Devaraj made no indication. His sharp yellow eyes settled on me and he gave a gentle nod before making his way over to an empty corner table. The closest adjacent table’s occupants quickly took their leave, gathering their things and scuttling to another table. I frowned, surprised by the abject fear I felt wafting off the patrons. Sure, he was an unusual specimen. But he was hardly aggressive looking... Or was I simply biased now?

I pivoted to attend to the barkeep, who’s return had returned preceded by the creaking of hinges from the kitchen door. He had two iron plates piled high with greasy looking food, and he plopped them down in front of me.

“Lemme get yer ale, Miss.” He told me. I returned a polite smile.

“Hey! Scaly!” Came a loud voice from behind me, and I stiffened slightly. “What the hell is wrong with you? You some sort of… devil spawn?”

I turned in time to see one of the burlier men approaching the corner table boldly. His shirt was stained and filled with holes, and he had a large crooked nose he looked down to glare at Devaraj. He had nothing on my companion’s muscle, but was certainly tall and heavy set enough to cause trouble.

“Indeed not, sir.” Came the thick reply, and I noticed the reptilian man’s usually airy tone had been replaced by a twitchingly harsh edge.

“Don’t ‘sir’ me, scales. I’m not your sir.” Growled the man. “We don’t let devils around here.”

Devaraj blinked slowly at the man, and I noticed his long tongue dart out briefly. The man stiffened at the sight, his eyes widening by a hair. But then he gritted his teeth, and I noticed his fists ball. I quickly gathered the plates in hand and bustled over to the table.

“Apologies for the delay,” I told Devaraj quickly, laying a plate in front of him and deftly putting my body between him and the irritated patron, “I hope this will be to your satisfaction.”

“Oi!” Came the expected grunt from behind me. I turned, pretending to just have noticed the man. He looked me up and down, scowling. But I saw a seed of doubt forming in his eyes. “.. You know this beast?”

“Beast?” I scoffed, hand to my chest, “By all that is holy, you must be joking. You mean you don’t recognize him?? You are the true beast if you would think him as much!”

The man blinked stupidly, my insult flying over his head. “...Eh?”

I placed my hands on my hips. “Well, I do apologize, I had believed you to be a traveled and educated man who would know a Spirit Charmer when he saw one!” My dry tone was lost on him, and I sighed deeply. “And here we are, summoned by your own leaders and treated to such disrespect!”

I noticed the rest of the room suddenly rapt with full attention. I squared my shoulders and craned my neck up to look at the man before me. I saw him glance around to his companions, becoming more uncertain by the minute. He reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“... Spirit Charmer, you say?”

“Yes! One of the best, for which I am certain you are all proud that your leaders were able to procure one of such notoriety!” I cocked my head to the side at him. “Unless we were mistakenly misinformed to your… troubles.”

I saw more than a few more spines stiffen, and the barkeep came slowly over with the two mugs of ale. I saw him eye Devaraj warily, then turned his attention back to me.

“Yer here about the spirit at the craig crypts?” He asked tentatively, placing the mugs on the table.

“The very ones.” I bluffed, hoping that was indeed what we were here for. “Have you been plagued long?”

The barkeep and his patron exchanged a look, and the crooked nosed man nodded slowly. “Ay, miss, we have. There’s a terrible keening most nights, and the things’ been killing sheep now… We’re worried it might be takin’ the children next.”

“Has anyone passed lately?” Devaraj asked, speaking up for the first time. “Or has the crypt been disturbed?”

“...There’s an old legend of a man who lived out by the craigs...” The barkeep answered hesitantly, glancing at the scaled man over my shoulder. “Folks’ be suspectin’ its his angry spirit hanging about.”

“Well then, it seems like my employer and I arrived just in time.” I exclaimed, hoping no one saw the nervous shiver down my spine at the mention of the spirit. “... Unless of course you’ve found an alternative method to deal with your spirit? We have many demands for his skills and would be happy to be on our way-”

“N-no ma’am… ah, miss…” The barkeep held up his hands, and even the crooked nosed patron shook his head sheepishly. “We be right glad yer… ‘employer’ is here.”

I cocked my head to the side again. “Are you now? Pardon, I was a bit confused by our welcome.”

When I looked pointedly at the other man, his face ruddied and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Beggin’ your pardon, Miss… Sir,” He looked over my shoulder at Devaraj, bowing his head humbly, “I didn’t know… I won’t bother you further…” He bowed his head and quickly scuttled out the door.

“I am right sorry fer Kam, there,” the barkeep continued as the other patrons made a point to go back to whatever had been occupying them before, “None of us ‘ave been gettin’ a good sleep, right? An’ we havena seen a… a Spirit Charmer before…”

I stepped to the side, moving to take the bench across from Devaraj. “Certainly understandable, such a profession is rare in these parts, I am told, which is why it was wise of your leaders to send for one.” I looked him over, staying on my feet a moment longer. “My employer and I have travelled a long way to be here, I hope it is alright that we take a meal before speaking with them?”

“N-not at all!” He exclaimed, bobbing his fat chin nervously. I saw his eyes flicker back over to Devaraj, but quickly dropped his gaze. “We’re on edge, sir, I hope ye understand. Wut with all the… activity in the area.”

Devaraj nodded his long chin, but otherwise said nothing. The barkeep stuttered out a final apology as well as a farewell, then moved back to his place at the bar. Leaving us alone to our meal. I picked up the biscuit, which was still warm from the oven, and broke it in half between my hands. An uneasy murmur had settled through the tavern, but other than a curious eye here and there, we were left to ourselves.

“That was expertly handled, Sera,” Mused my companion quietly, picking up his mug and giving it a curious sniff, “I do not believe I have ever had such an easy introduction.”

I scoffed softly, staring down at my food and chewing slowly. “That was easy?”

“By comparison, yes.” I peeked up at him through my lashes to see his elongated mouth stretching into a closed mouth smile. “I am pleased you decided to take my employment offer.”

I nodded lightly, hiding a blush and the stab of guilt that came from the thought of what might have happened had I decided to abandon him just a short while earlier… I took a quiet sip of my ale, then gestured to his plate after I replaced my cup on the table.

“I-I wasn’t sure if you would mind a traditional breakfast… Do you have a food preference?”

He chuckled lightly, and I watched as he took a bite of the sausage. “I do not. I am content with whatever meal I can procure. Though I must say,” He managed to smack his scaly lips, “This is better than I have yet had in your lands. It smells quite good.”

Another stab of guilt, wondering exactly had he been eating before that this greasy slop seemed so decadent to him. I swallowed my mouthful and took up another. As I took another swig of my ale, I used the opportunity to glance about again discretely. But it seemed we would not be bothered again, though I was certain our appearance would still be on the villagers’ lips for many days to come.

“You are good at this, Sera,” He intoned, and I turned my attention back to him, “One day in and you have already proved your worth tenfold.” He tilted his big horned head to the side and snaked his long tongue out at me. “Perhaps you deserve a raise.”

I choked on a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “You haven’t paid me yet… Besides, I’d settle for my own bedroll…” A blush rose to my cheeks. “And a horse… if possible.”

“Hmmm.” Came his response, and his thin nostrils flared slightly. “I will miss your warmth when we ride, but understand it might not be most ideal for you.” A finalizing nod. “We shall procure you a mount before we depart then.”

“H-how long will that be?” I asked curiously.

“Depends on the situation with this spirit. But I suspect it shan’t be more than a day or two at most to soothe its ails and bring some peace back to this town.” He took a large mouthful, scarfing it back with a pleased rumble in his deep chest. I watched his throat ripple as he swallowed. “There will be a contract ready by the time we finish, I am certain.”

That gave me a start. “... We?”

His toothy grin returned. “But of course! I shall be most grateful for your assistance, Sera!”

I pushed my plate away, unfinished. Suddenly having lost my appetite.

....

UPDATE: Part Three HERE

#A Line in the Sand #lizardman boyfriend #lizardman lover #lizardman x human #dragonborn #dragonborn lover #dragonborn boyfriend #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x human #tails-and-scales #slow burn #ghosts???#terato #exophilia #commission

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apothecarinomicon · 3 years ago

Text

Spring week 4 part 3

After my hectic experience with the marshbloom, I decided to take a day for myself. Greenmoor isn’t anywhere near the ocean, but Meltwater Loch is big enough that I figured a day spent there could be considered a beach day. And after the couple of weeks I’d had, boy did I need a beach day.

But anyone who’s read this far ought to be familiar with my luck by now. There’s a lot to record, but I’ll try to get it down in order.

────⊱⁜⊰────

It was a beautiful day—clear blue sky, warm air, and (at least when I first arrived) no one around at Meltwater Loch. I spread out a towel on the beach and laid down for a good session of sunbathing. I’ve never been one for tanning, but simply laying doing nothing while being warmed by the sun and cooled by the breeze felt absolutely decadent.

After a while of simply existing, I became aware of the sound of a bird calling above me. I cracked my eyes open and recognized the large forms of a pair of gull-drakes flying overhead. Gull-drakes are a strange hybrid, both reptilian and avian. Their torsos and wings are feathered, while their heads, tails, and talons are scaled. They do have beaks like gulls, but their tails are prehensile like their alleged draconic ancestors’. I say ‘alleged’ because no one knows how the hybrid gull-drake came into being. The sheer anatomy and scale discrepancy between the average seagull and the average dragon fossil (they were much larger in ancient times than the pocket-sized lizards we have today) seems to rule out any cross-breeding. Additionally, the typical combination of traits displayed by gull-drakes is too awkward and ungainly to be the result of natural selection. And yet, there have been records of the gull-drake’s existence for just about as long as there have been records—the third-oldest surviving written document, in fact, is a bestiary which includes them along dozens of other species, most of which are now extinct.

Nature is a strange thing.

Digressions aside, there was a reason this caught my attention. Gull-drakes are scavengers, and have been known to leave catches uneaten while they go out to hunt for more. It’s just an evolutionary quirk—they prefer to feast only once per day. This means that, as they leave their nests unattended, some other opportunistic creature could come by and steal their catch.

It’s easy to identify a gull-drake nest, too—they tend to be very large, and are often positioned balanced atop large, pointy rocks. If a gull-drake catches you stealing, though, it’ll chase you and squawk at you and try to peck you until you drop the stolen goods and flee. They’re not too smart, though, so hiding in nearby foliage (say, a patch of large ferns) will fool them easily.

All of this to say, I managed to get myself a shock fish without a rod, all while only getting chased a little ways by a jealous, stupid bird.

────⊱⁜⊰────

As I returned to my towel, I heard an unusual sound—the put-put-put of a motor. Machinery of that kind is a fairly new invention, and unless you know how to make it, very expensive.

The woman driving the boat certainly looked like she knew how to make a motor. She was dwarven, with russet hair and a long beard, both held in thick braids. She was (as dwarves are) rather short—I'd estimate maybe one-and-a-fifth meters tall, and nearly as wide—with large hands and feet, and limbs thickly corded with muscle. She wore dark green coveralls and had a fairly heavy-duty fishing rod held in one hand so that it rested on her shoulder.

She shut the motor off as she neared and called out to me, asking if I was the village witch. I said that I was, and she told me that she was friends with my crocodilian patient. She thanked me for helping him, and said he would have been a goner without my potion-making skills. I demurred just a bit, saying I wasn't the only healer who helped him that day. She scoffed and dismissed my humility outright, saying that I might as well have been the only one—that without my care the village doctor wouldn't have been able to do anything.

She introduced herself as Janneth Hillhorn, and I told her my name in turn. She asked what I was doing out by Meltwater Loch and I told her I was taking a day off. She let me know that her cottage was just around the other side of the lake, near Glimmerwood Grove and right on the border of Blastfire Bog, and that I should feel free to stop in any time. I thanked her.

At this point, there was a tremor in the water. It couldn't have been an earthquake because the land wasn't shaking, but the water abruptly became much more active. Ocean-like waves crashed into the shore and Janneth held tight onto the sides of her boat, doing her best not to capsize. I would have been quite alarmed in her situation, but Janneth barely seemed preturbed. I asked something along the lines of "what the blight is going on?!" As the water settled, Janneth told me that this was a common occurence on Meltwater Loch, a quirk that—many said—was due to the emotions of its guardian sea-dragon, Bàs Bàta. I found this explanation rather silly, reminiscent of an old wives' tale. I'd never heard of a sea-dragon before, and given that the name ‘Bàs Bàta’ directly translated to "boat death," I figured it was just a local story told to frighten children and dismissed it out of hand.

Astute readers should be growing worried for me right about now.

Janneth offered to give me one of the fish she'd caught as a thanks for helping her friend. I initially refused, but she insisted. She looked through her basket and pulled out a dentist crab. The gel their claws produce is good for the mouth and plenty else besides, so I accepted and thanked her. She thanked me right back and said (perhaps jokingly?) not to run afoul of Bàs Bàta while I was out by the loch. I forced a laugh as she sped away.

Once she was out of sight, I collected some claw gel from the dentist crab and released it back into the water.

────⊱⁜⊰────

There was another rumbling as I made my way back to the beach, and as it abated I saw something bob up to the surface of the water close to the shore. It presented itself, et cetera et cetera, I waded in to see what it was.

I scooped it out of the water and found myself holding a glass bottle, like the kind that rum or sweet wine would come in, sealed with a cork and containing a rolled-up sheet of paper. Of course, I opened it immediately. I found that the sheet inside wasn’t quite *paper,* but something more slippery—maybe made of seaweed? It did have writing on it, though. As I unfurled it, a few things that looked like pebbles fell out. I barely managed to catch them before they hit the surface of the water. I put them in my pocket for safe keeping.

The writing on the note was as follows, with no spelling changes by me:

Let it be known that I fink this whole exercise is stupid. And pointless. And probly meant as some kind of sick, twisted punishment. No one but little kids believe in terrafolk, so I don’t know why the instructress is making us do this.

Even if anyfing could live above the water, there’s no way its advanced enough to read. How would it get all the minerals it needs wivout processing the water?

But anyway. I guess I ave to fulfill the prompt.

Me name is Genoveva, I live in the I.S.A.C.S. (that's short for 'Isolated Sovereign Aquatic City-State, but we all just pronounce it like 'Isax") and I’m in the fifth year of me education. I hate me name. I wish I could ave somefing exotic like a John or a Steve or a Sarah, but I’m stuck wiv boring old Genoveva. If you’re somehow able to read this, that must mean you ave schools on the surface, too. Wat ar they like? Ar they as boring up there? We all ave to sit in a circle and listen to the instructress drone on and on and on.

I live wiv me merma and me perpa and me two baby brothers. Do you ave family? I've got loads of cousins too.

On the rubric it says I ave to include a small gift, so I'm putting some fossil fish scales in wiv this letter. I found em on me way to school this morning and there not of use to me, but I figure you probly don't ave fish on land so maybe scales ar valuable up there.

If you're inclined to write back (no pressure), you can just pop your note in the bottle and put it back into the water. It'll find its way to me—there's magic all around, don't you know.

Signed,

Genoveva Galbrait, 5th year

[An accessible version of this letter can be found here.]

The letter obviously has some pretty complex implications. An entire society under the surface of Meltwater Loch, entirely unaware of the world above the surface beyond fairy stories? What must life be like down there? What kind of society must they have? How do they supply food? Get rid of waste?

What resources might be available there that can't be found on the surface?

I decided that somehow I was going to find a way to visit ISACS, and learn everything I could about it. I bet that would impress the University of Arcbridge. I wasn't sure how I would breathe under the water for long enough, but I was determined to find a way.

Take your final guesses now what happened next.

That water-quaking started up again, this time stronger than before. Waves crashed against the beach where I stood, and I felt a great vibration in my chest and in my head.

And then, it broke the surface of the water.

Giant and blue-green and serpentine, Bàs Bàta rose up before me. A blighting sea-dragon, it stood straight up in the air at least twice as tall as my cottage—and that was just the part of its body I could see. Its head was shaped like the tip of an arrow, with three great spikes sprouting out of the back (the outer two longer than the middle one). It let loose another deep roar, dousing me in spittle. It thrashed about, causing great waves to crash onto the shore, and through my shock I realized its movements might be less characteristic of anger than of pain.

My suspicions were confirmed when it roared again: one of the fangs right near the front of its mouth was missing a chip, and had a great crack running nearly all the way up to the root. That had to hurt. I'd never treated a non-humanoid before—or, for that matter, a cracked tooth—but I realized even past the moral obligation to help, there was no way I could access the underwater city-state without calming Bàs Bàta down.

I found out later, after I'd scrambled away from the lake and sprinted back to the cottage, after wiping the saliva off of me and getting at least some of it in a bottle for potion use, that the saliva was actually a really useful ingredient in treating shattered teeth. As it turns out, it's a pretty strong painkiller. Unfortunately, I knew I'd need more than just that to make a cure, and with the sheer size of Bàs Bàta, I suspected I'd need to make more than one potion.

That will have to be a longer term project, then, because the events of my relaxation day have worn me out. I've got to get to bed. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

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