#back in the day i had caught up to the end of the fish folk island (<- i dont read/watch it in english so idk how yall call them) then year

[sualne]

catching up on one piece after years and my favorites (mugiwara non included) are still the same a decade later.

[christall77]

~❦Caught Feelings❦~

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Merman x F!Reader

This is actually my first time writing about falling in love and stuff, so I hope I did good!

The art used doesn't belong to me, but to it's rightful owner @weyowang!

TW: ENTANGLEMENT OF MARINE LIFE, other than that it's pure fluff!

Another fish is wrapped up by a loose fishing line, it was the fifth one today Tullius has come across on his way close to the shore. The lone merman wastes no time and swims over to help the poor puffer fish in need. His long, strong, pale tail pushing him through the water with no effort.

Reaching for the puffed up creature he carefully untangles the thin line from its spikes and removes the hook puncturing it's pectoral fin. Luckily the brown and white spotted fish isn't badly hurt and manages to swim off just fine, deflating in the process. That has become an almost daily routine for the male. Everyday Tullius would swim to the beach located not far away from his shipwreck he calls home and collect various trinkets he found. Helping other sea life on the way if he sees them in trouble.

Tullius himself hasn't been safe from the trash and other gadgets humans have lost, or thrown out to sea. Having the scars and even part of a worn out net wrapped around his tail to prove it. The material dirty and grown with algea and tiny barnacles. It's also one of his reminders why he was shunned and eventually exiled from his previous home. Trying to get it off with the help from others when he couldn't do it alone, only for them to end up chasing him away.

Anything and everything human related is frowned upon in his folk. As more people came to visit the beaches, mermaids and mermen were forbidden to come anywhere close to the surface, by order of their king.

But despite knowing how bad it is for his home which he calls the ocean, he can't help but still be curious and fascinated by humans and their strange knick knacks. There's a whole wooden shelf in the downed ship full of things he's collected. One new strange, or in his eyes, beautiful object found throughout his trips is added daily. The merman doesn't even know where to stock the rest of them he'll find in the future!

Tullius has come to like it out here by himself. It's not like he was well liked before either. Tullius was seen as an outsider already by not having a vibrant color of a tale, or beautiful fins like the others.

Of course he has kept safe distances from the shore to make sure he wouldn't be spotted, but lately he can't stop himself from peeking out of the water every so often. Swimming closer day by day, just to get another glimpse of something. Or more like, someone.

Tullius has seen humans before, but when he first saw you he couldn't take his midnight blue eyes away from your figure walking along the beach. Cradling and comforting a seagull you've rescued from drowning. From this day on he couldn't stop himself from visiting, just to hope to get another glimpse of you from behind a few rocks. His organ in his chest beating faster and a warm giddy feeling spreading throughout Tullius' body. At first he confused the feeling with sickness, or the tiny fish he had for breakfast, swimming around in his belly. But then he remembered, food that's been chewed and eaten can't swim anymore.

The male came to realize, this strange feeling returns whenever he's watching you from the distance, but it's not uncomfortable. No. He likes it. A lot. And it grew as time passed, the longer he watched the more enamored he became.

Tullius desperately wants to get closer to you but, what would you think of him? Would you like him back? Or would you look at him with disgust like his own kind? He sure hopes it's not the latter.

Another dreamy sigh leaves his lips as Tullius rests his head in both of his palms, half of his body leaning on top of the rocky surface on his usual watch spot. White tail lazily swinging back and forth in the blue ocean waters. Admiring your (body type) figure doing small dances while you keep singing to your favorite song that's playing through your earphones. Hardly anyone comes to this part of the beach since it's so secluded and luckily for the merman, you've decided to live in a small hut close by! It just happened recently but he couldn't have been more excited, especially since he gets to see you everyday now.

With a soft smile Tullius listens to your lovely voice, his wine colored ear fins twitching occasionally. No matter how good or terrible your singing is to you, he thinks it's the most beautiful sound in the world. The white haired male would love to sing with you, if he could.

Tullius snaps out from his thoughts when he heard a loud "oof" and thud in the sand. It seems you've stumbled over yourself and landed almost face first into the warm sand, for a second he was worried you might've hurt yourself only to make a quiet noise of relief when you get up unharmed. Immediately ducking behind the rock for cover when you take a look around to make sure no one has seen that clumsy act.

His heart beats against his ripcage hoping you didn't notice him watching, taking a quick peek over again Tullius lets out a small sad grumble when you make your way back into your hut and out of his sight. Yes, he does want to get to know you, but he always just gets too nervous for his own good.

But he told himself to finally approach you, the merman just has no idea how. So he ends up swimming around in circles in deep thought. The sound of panicked splashing suddenly makes him look over to the beach where a poor sea turtle is trying to get into the water. Half of its shell wrapped up tightly in a net which is holding the animal just barely away from the incoming waves. Tullius swims over quickly, looking left and right for any sign of another human around.

The male crawls onto shore and drags himself over, his arms lifting his upper body up from the heated sand, the small ocean waves now just barely reaching his white finned tail. Tullius, like others of his kind can breathe in air just fine, but he still has to hurry before his gills and other fishy half dries out in the hot sun. The animal notices the merman closing in and continues to struggle, sand flying in the air and some landing in his messy locks in the process from its flippers.

As Tullius tries to comfort the turtle his scaled hands grasp onto the net and he tries to pull it away, with no luck. It looks to be wrapped around to tightly, almost suffocatingly for one to just pull it off. And slowly but surely he feels himself get dryer. The tides also seem to go against him as well when he notices the water drawing back and further away from them. His eyes start loosing focus and Tullius can feel himself growing weaker and dizzy, until he collapses onto the sand beside the other sea creature.

In his barely awake state, he notices something approaching in the distance, but he's to weak to react or make a noise that would alert the stranger. They come to a short halt and seem to call out to him, whatever it is they're saying rings through his head in a blur. His lack of response makes them hurry over until they finally reached him. Tullius barely feels his hands being lifted and freed from the net, before being held up and brought to who knows where.

Until he feels himself being submerged into the familiar salty water, he splashes for a short moment before calming down and letting himself float to the surface with relief. Dry skin regaining its needed moisture.

Then his deep blue eyes meet your wide surprised (e/c) ones and he yelps, submerging himself in the shallow water to hide.

“Wait!”, That sweet voice of yours calls out to him and he slowly rises his head to the surface until just the top of his head and eyes are poking out from the water. You try to appear as nonthreatening as possible. Throwing the small knife away which you've used to cut through the seams of the net to free both the sea turtle and merman. With a quick glance down Tullius also discovers the lack of a familiar old net wrapped tightly around him now gone.

Keeping a safe distance and speaking in a calm voice as you show you're empty handed now. “It's OK... I'm not going to harm you. See? I also freed your friend if you're wondering.”

Tullius meanwhile almost can't believe his own eyes, the human girl he's been fawning over for who knows how long has saved him. And she's not afraid of him! He keeps staring at you with big sparkling eyes, ear fins twitching happily. “Can you talk?”, the merman tilts his head once he snaps out of his small daze and shakes his head lightly, small waves rippling around his head. While the male has learned and understands human language, he can't answer. Only communicating with clicks and other noises merfolk would use.

“Ah that would've been cool. I can't believe I'm actually meeting a real mermaid! Uhh merman..?” you let out a small chuckle at the end and look at him with big amazed eyes, not believing that a supposed mythical creature is right in front of you. “My name is (y/n) it's very nice to meet you!”

Tullius let's out a few clicks in return, introducing himself despite knowing you won't understand him either way.

The two of you spend a little more time together, the merman still mostly submerged while you've sat down onto the sand with your feet dipped into the shallow waves. Having what feels like more of a one sided conversation since he can't really talk back. But nonetheless, you still understood the small gestures he would make.

Only when the sun slowly starts to set did both of you notice how late it actually is. Standing up you give the merman a small wave, “It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Merman. I hope we can see each other again some time.”

Tullius perks up at the suggestion that you want to meet him again. Tilting his head slightly to the side he makes a small squeaky sound, wanting to know when that time will be and where you're going. Of course you didn't understand him and assumed he was saying his own goodbye, you give him a sweet smile before returning back to your hut.

The male watching your form getting smaller with his ear fins cast down and a pout forming on his lips. How he wished he could follow after you just to spend more time with you. Oh wait. He can.

~~~

It's around ten at night when all of a sudden you hear something entering your small wooden hut. As if something heavy got knocked over. You left your window open to let the small ocean breeze in, and you never expected someone to actually break in. After all, you're basically alone on this part of the island. You made sure when you rented this hut for your summer holiday. Wanting nothing more but to relax and enjoy the beach without having other people there.

But when you sneaked out of your small kitchen with a frying pan in both hands, just in case, you find that merman you've met earlier today, laying face first on the wooden floor. Lowering your weapon you let out a surprised gasp “You? What are you doing here?”, at the sound of your voice he quickly looks up from the floor with big eyes, a happy purr rumbling through his chest as he sits up to the best of his ability. Seemingly proud that he has found you and entered on his own. Because it was definitely not that easy.

Now that he's out of the water you can finally admire the merman more closely. He seems to be your age, soft looking fair skin with small various shaped scars littering over his entire lean and slender body. Clawed hands littered with wine red fish scales spreading from the back of his hands leading up to his forearms and fading in color until they reach up his elbows, where on each a triangular fin with the same color is situated. Three slits on each side of his neck now visible which you guess are his gills are closed shut to instead breath in the air instead of filtering the oxygen through water.

One long dorsal fin, also colored wine red, travels from the back of his neck down and along his spine to the middle of his white tail where another triangular shaped one connects wandering down right to the end. Two extra pairs on the sides of his hips and the other one further down his tail. They all look like they've either got cut or teared on the edges and you wonder if it's as painful as it looks.

Your (e/c) eyes travel back up to his head where a mop of messy wet white hair just barely covers those beautiful dark blue eyes that seem to glow in the darker corner of your room. The merman crawls closer, making your form stiffen up slightly but you do not dare to make a sudden move.

Once he's just a few feet away from you, Tullius opens his fist he's been kept closed the entire time and reveals a (favorite color) star snail sea shell, holding it towards you. “For me?” The male nods with a chirp avoiding his gaze but glancing back at you to watch your reaction. You carefully take it from him, putting the pan away and look at it with awe exclaiming that you love his gift.

Tullius' tail slaps against the floor in delight, a sharp toothed grin and small blush spreading across his cheeks, seeing that you like his courting gift.

And this is how it would go on for a few weeks. The merman slipping into your home in the middle of the night and bringing you gifts, all the while hanging around with you so long until he has to go into the ocean again. While at day time you'll see him peaking out from the waves waiting for you to come visit him.

You came to know his name after you showed him how to write, being amazed what a quick learner your new merfriend is. The both of you bonded quickly and you would end up spending most of the time with Tullius and getting to learn more about him, as he does about you. Even sharing his collection with you and receiving some as well he's never seen before.

Eventually you come to feel a certain way for the merman, and you were hoping that he would feel the same.

Little did you know, you've already captured his heart way before you even knew him.

But the day where you have to fly back to your home from your vacation came quicker than you could count, and it made you sad about leaving Tullius for who knows how long. You have to tell him how you feel before you're gone from this island. So as per usual the first thing you do this morning, is walking out to the beach looking for the merman. And there he was, waiting for you at his usual spot by the small wooden pier leading to your hut.

Smiling he waves at you and does a few happy flips before climbing up the structure and leaping on top of you for a tight hug making you fall onto the wooden surface. Your clothes getting wet in the process but you don't mind and giggle as he purrs and nuzzles up against you.

Tullius has become more affectionate and clingy the closer you two became, but not in an overbearing or annoying way which you admit you find pretty cute.

As the two of you spend the time together, Tullius still having his arms wrapped around you chin resting on your shoulder while playing with your hair, you reveal to him about your vacation time and you ending up leaving this island. His reaction of course as you imagined makes your chest feel heavy. The merman is now pulling you tightly against him, his ear fins pulled down and whimpering softly, pleading for you to stay with him.

While Tullius understood that you had to go, it was very hard for him to accept it. After all, he just got closer to you and now you have to leave! He's worried you'll leave him forever.

“I know... I'll miss you too... ” Tullius rests his forehead against yours at your words clicking in response. And as a final goodbye he gently cups your cheeks slowly leaning in until his soft wet lips meet yours in a sweet kiss, surprising you but returning it with as much love as he's pouring into the gesture. A promise to him that you will definitely come back and visit him.

He pulls away with reddened cheeks and loving smile, loosening his hold and preparing to go back into the ocean waters. Neither of you wanted to leave but it would make it harder to say goodbye. And before he finally leaves, Tullius gives you one last look back and finally manages to form his usual noises into five simple words that fills your heart with warmth and will stay with you until the time comes that the both of you will meet again.

“I... love... you... forever...(y/n).”

[twstbookclub]

Sharp Teeth, Tough Love

Summary: You caught Floyd's interest the moment fire and chaos erupted in the Mirror Chamber. One chance meeting gave you the nickname Shrimpy, and another left Floyd sinking deeper into the depths. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Floyd Being Floyd, Slow Burn, Minor ADeuce and Grim Shenanigans again, Unrequited Feelings, Floyd's POV (I hope yall remember whose nickname belongs to who) Word Count: 3, 044 If yall needed to know, I wrote this on the same day I wrote the Riddle fic. My brain is spent on these two, and I couldn't be any happier. I wish I could end this another way, though. Poor terrifying and violent Floyd. One thing to note, it's really fascinating how he only calls someone by name if he really respected them. Also, if yall catch that reference to one of Floyd's lesson chats, I will love you forever. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy again 💕

Floyd could never forget the first time he saw you.

Your face was twisted into a flabbergasted frown, mingled with distress, confusion, and exasperation. The cat monster—he’ll call it Baby Seal since its tiny height and gray fur reminded him of one—ran amok and spewed fire everywhere. Kalim’s screams rang in the air, followed by Crowley’s indignant shouts. He watched the chaos unfold with intrigued eyes and a widening grin, revealing sharp teeth and a thirst for more wreckage.

Amidst the smoke that billowed and swirled in the Mirror Chamber, you stood in the middle of it. The harsh glow of the fire pierced Floyd’s eyes, but all he saw was your silhouette surrounded by dying embers and crackling flames. Just as his gaze landed on you, your head swiveled around to look back at him. As if some invisible force compelled you to find the eyes that burned into your figure.

He wanted to see you again.

The next time he saw you, you were with Baby Seal and those two freshmen in Heartslabyul: Crabby and Little Mackerel. Even Goldfish and Sea Bream were with you. The six of you lurked in the courtyard, as if trying to spy on something. Whatever you were doing, it caught his attention.

“Careful, Floyd,” Jade simpered after he followed his brother’s line of sight, “don’t scare the fish away.”

Of course, Jade already knew what Floyd was thinking with one look. There was a reason why they chose each other and survived the coldest, harshest waters.

“Yeah, yeah.” Floyd flippantly waved away Jade’s words with a languid grin, before he snuck on the group. It was laughable, how they didn’t notice his tall and gangly figure slink in front of them. The six students spoke in hushed whispers, too engrossed in their conversation to see the shadow that loomed over them. His eyes roamed each freshman, checking the fresh meat, but they lingered on you.

You looked so small, and he had to tilt his head down to see your eyes. Back then, during the entrance ceremony, you hunched over as if to curl into yourself. Small and weak and afraid.

Floyd’s lips stretched from one ear to the other. He’ll call you Shrimpy.

“Oh ho ho! What is up, Lil’ Goldfish?”

Goldfish jumped, sputtering and floundering like a fish caught by its prey. The rest showed varying degrees of surprise. Sea Bream’s smile became strained, and Floyd could see the junior sweat a little. Crabby flinched, while Little Mackerel took a step back with wide eyes. His fists were raised to his chest, and Floyd’s eyes narrowed at that.

Huh, one of them was ready for a fight. Interesting.

His attention shifted to you, wide eyes fluttering in disbelief. You craned your neck to look up at him with parted lips. As Floyd engaged Goldfish in a conversation more like interrogation, he felt like he was floating. It’s as if he could run around the track field without breaking a sweat from the look you gave him.

He wanted to see more of that. He wanted to see you more.

Your gaze drifted to Jade, and you froze. Floyd brushed it off as fear. That was how people usually reacted to them, anyway. It was nothing new. He focused on the conversation with Goldfish without sparing your reaction another thought.

One sunny day, a few days after that chance meeting, Floyd saw you in the courtyard again. You were with Baby Seal—he always was—along with Crabby and Little Mackerel. The latter two stood in front of you, who sat on the edge of the fountain. Baby Seal was standing next to you with this annoyed look. Meanwhile, the Leech brother was lounging on the grass. Alchemy class bored him, so he decided to skip and bathe in the sunlight on the courtyard.

None of them seemed to notice him. Floyd watched, still bored out of his mind. He was debating on whether to spook the group or otherwise, when he heard you laugh.

You tilted your head back, letting the sun illuminate the smile on your face. It was a toothy grin, one that crinkled your eyes and emphasized the chub of your cheeks. He barely saw the color of your irises, and your unrestrained laugh echoed in the desolate courtyard. You even snorted.

You tilted your head back so much that you tipped over and fell into the fountain with a loud splash. Floyd snickered, ignoring the warmth in his chest and the flutter of his heart. Howling laughter followed your fall. Crabby clutched his stomach and doubled over. Little Mackerel held back a smile as he flailed, unsure of how to help you, in front of the fountain. Baby Seal was laughing his ass off, belly flopping on the edge of the fountain.

He decided to stand from his spot and help you, since the entire thing entertained him. Although, when he stood tall and took a step towards the fountain, he paused. You were drenched in water, from the top of your head to the tip of your leather shoes. Locks of hair stuck to your forehead and cheeks. Your uniform clung to your skin, and it looked uncomfortable. Despite all that, your smile remained.

“You assholes!” You laughed with a loud wheeze, happy and carefree with that toothy and blinding grin. He could clearly hear you laugh and sputter, even with Crabby’s and Baby Seal’s loud snickers and laughter. As he watched Little Mackerel help you—and fail, because you slipped back into the fountain—a thought nagged at his mind. 

What should I do to make Shrimpy laugh like that again?

“Hey, Shrimpy!” Floyd chirped, grin too wide and sharp to be considered friendly. Little Mackerel and Crabby stepped back, as the sophomore grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the fountain. Your hand shot out to grip the edge, while you stood from the water.

“Need a lil’ help?”

“Oh merciful Seven—” Floyd pretended not to notice how your vocabulary changed in just a few months— “thanks, but how much did you see?”

The fact that you nonchalantly accepted his help, that you didn’t flinch from him, made Floyd’s heart do somersaults and cartwheels. The corners of his lips stretched towards his ears. He squeezed your arm and watched you step out of the fountain.

Water dripped from your uniform, and Floyd observed the droplets fall from your hair and fingertips. He briefly wondered what you’d look like if he dragged you into the sea. Would you be surprised? Would you scream?

Would you laugh and call him an asshole, like what you did earlier?

“What answer do you wanna hear, Shrimpy?” He teased, still grinning and holding your arm. For some reason, Floyd didn’t want to let go.

“The one that doesn’t embarrass me, thanks.” You chuckled, despite the other three freshmen being silent spectators of this interaction. As you thanked him again and flicked the water off your hands, Floyd couldn’t help but grin wider.

Another month passed. After that admittedly hilarious outburst from Azul, you became a regular at Mostro Lounge. You visited during the weekends, even if you were wary at first. You fell into a routine, just as fast as how you picked up on the lingo in Twisted Wonderland.

You walked in during the weekends and stayed for as long as an hour and thirty minutes. (Yes, Floyd kept count.) You’d talk to either Jade or himself, depending on whoever was waiting tables at the time. Azul passed by at times to make sure you were having a good time, obviously to maintain Mostro Lounge’s good reputation. After a few visits, Floyd began to monopolize your attention by literally taking over server duty during the days you visited.

Even if he had to subtly threaten Azul with profit loss via property destruction and sabotage.

“Hey Shrimpy,” Floyd drawled, sitting across from you in one of the booths. It was a slow day today, and all you ordered was a fruit shake. A history book was opened to some page Floyd didn’t care to know. Notes littered your table, and your penmanship occupied his attention a little.

That was, until he grew bored of the sounds of pen scratching paper and the clinking dishes in Mostro Lounge.

“Hm? Yeah, Floyd?” You asked, flipping a page and jotting down something on your notebook. The tall merman pouted, before he reached over and snapped your book shut. Before you could even react, he snatched it away and lifted it far from you.

“I’m boooored. C’mon, play with me!”

Floyd grinned when you stuttered and glared at him. Your reactions always amused him, moreso whenever you were irritated or angry. Something about the way your brows furrowed and your nose scrunched made him want to tease you more. When you began to flail your arms and make animated gestures, that was when he knew you were really fed up.

“You—” You sighed and stood up, trying to reach for the book. Floyd only lifted it higher, and he didn’t even need to stand up. The corner of his lips twitched, while he watched you struggle and stretch to snatch the book back.

“Floyd, give it back! Please? I promise I’ll—”

There was a reason why he always tried to annoy you. You’d always promise him something in the end: treat him to lunch, hang out with him in the Lounge, watch his basketball matches (even if you were there for Crabby, too). It was the only way he could spend time with you without outright asking for it.

Floyd wasn’t an idiot. He knew he liked you, and it all began with that incident involving the fountain. Even Jade pointed out the many times Floyd’s face lit up every time you were around. He couldn’t ignore how much his heart pitter-pattered every time he saw you. He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t grinning every time he caught sight of you. The way his name rolled off your tongue made him giddy enough to want to throw you over his shoulder and skip class with you.

If he had a choice, he’d drag you to the deepest parts of the sea and keep you to himself.

The book was plucked out of his hand, but your own hands were empty. You owlishly blinked, and so did Floyd. Both of you stilled, until another voice broke through the quiet hustle and bustle of the Lounge.

“It’s not nice to play with the food in front of you, Floyd.” Jade smiled, the kind he usually wore that fooled anyone into thinking he was the safer option between the two brothers. It was still funny to Floyd how everyone gravitated towards Jade, only to realize the jagged teeth behind that fake smile of his.

You took your book from Jade with an awkward smile. “Ah, thanks, even if you said something subtly backhanded…”

“It’s my pleasure, Prefect,” Jade answered, his smile never wavering in that moment. Careful hands gripped the book and slipped it off his gloved one.

Without missing a beat, you set the book aside and asked, “How are you then, Jade? You and Floyd are usually together, but I haven’t seen you in a while.”

The book remained shut, as if you weren’t trying to get it back from Floyd to study earlier. The lazy smile he had dropped into a thin line. His eyes drooped as he watched the conversation between you and his brother. On the other hand, Jade still wore that perfected smile of his with a hand over his heart.

“I’ve been doing fine. Thank you for asking.” Jade hummed before adding, “I found this lovely new specimen—another species of fungi—while on a hike recently. You were interested in mountain hiking and foraging, am I correct?”

“Oh, yeah.” You laughed, light like tinkling bells. It was a stark contrast to the boisterous laugh you usually had. Floyd’s chest tightened, and his hands clenched into fists under the table.

Letting your laughter die down, you continued with a smile, “Can I join you next time? If not that, you have terrariums, right? Can I see them some time?”

Your smile was small and practiced. Whenever you smiled, it was always toothy and the corners pushed your cheeks up. Now, it reminded Floyd of a prissy princess who had been sheltered all her life. You smiled like a noble that faced the aristocrats in hopes of a good impression. You smiled like the guests his parents had, trying to curry their favor, while he and Jade grew up.

You solely focused on his brother, as if Floyd wasn’t sitting right in front of you for the last hour. Your book and notes laid forgotten on the table. Condensed droplets began to drip from the glass, and the fruit shake was forgotten as well. Even when the edge of one of your transcripts became wet, you didn’t bother moving it away from the glass.

Floyd wasn’t an idiot. Of course, he wasn’t.

His eyes flitted towards the smile you had, softened with an emotion he didn’t want to see. Your own eyes appeared brighter, livelier than whenever you were with him. Even when you sat down, your body was angled towards Jade as you leaned on the table with crossed arms.

His mood soured in that instant, and the pitter-patter of his heart dulled into silence.

Floyd scowled, standing from the booth and shoving his hands in his pockets. You jumped a little, while Jade watched him with that carefully crafted smile. He didn’t bother explaining himself. Jade knew already, and he didn’t owe you anything. You’d only take this as Floyd sulking because his brother ruined his fun.

“Whatever,” he mumbled and trudged out of the restaurant with an air of annoyance. Everyone who happened to be in his way immediately skirted around the Leech brother. One wasn’t fast enough, and Floyd’s arm knocked the tray out of the poor student’s hands.

His scowl deepened. He loomed over the terrified boy with his jaw clenched and eyes glinting ominously. The aggravated tone rang clear in his voice when he threatened, “Watch it, or do you want me to squeeze ya, huh?”

The Heartslabyul student silently despaired about his lunch. He was too intimidated and afraid of Floyd to even squeak. The merman left Mostro Lounge with a scowl and his fists in his pockets, like a child throwing a tantrum. He didn’t bother looking over to see your reaction.

Floyd was growing irritated at the thought that you’d give all your attention to Jade. He’d rather not see you make goo-goo eyes at his own brother. He didn’t want to think too much of it. Maybe he’d find something to do; something to get rid of this itch in his chest and fists.

If he couldn’t, then Azul would just have to deal with Crowley later. He wasn’t going to sit in that cramped office and get lectured by a headmaster that preened over his and the academy’s reputation.

As Floyd stomped through the portal that led back to Night Raven College, his thoughts veered towards you and Jade. His mind conjured every memory he had of you: how you perked up every time you saw Jade; how you always asked about him, even if you thought you were subtle about it; how you subconsciously gravitated towards Jade every time he was there—

A pair of Pomefiore students skittered towards the wall as Floyd passed by. A shadow loomed over his scowling face, which accentuated the dips and curve of his mouth. His blood boiled, and his footfalls grew heavier with each step. If he went on like this, Floyd would dig potholes in the corridors with his feet alone.

He always saw your smile brighten and look dainty around Jade. Your laugh grew softer, restrained and freakishly refined. It was as if you deliberately controlled yourself to look more appealing to his brother. It was annoying Floyd more than it should.

He liked you, even when your body tipped back and doubled over from laughing so much. He liked you, even if your laugh sounded like a dying whale. He liked you, even when you snorted so hard that it hurt your nose. He liked you, even when you smacked him on the shoulder out of exasperation. He liked you so much that he was tempted to tickle you in front of Jade—just so he could hear your loud and carefree laugh again.

He wanted all of you, even if you were weak and frail and helpless. He just wanted you.

He already hated how cheesy he sounded, but his heart called out for you with each waking moment. The image of your smile overlapped with his memory of your laugh. Your name was scrawled in his mind, his heart, his lips, his very soul. Floyd already knew it was bad if he was being poetic, sappy, and romantic like Seagull.

So, why’d you like Jade? His brother could care less about you in that sense. Floyd was already annoyed that Jade moved things behind the scenes: making sure that you were alone with Floyd as much as possible. They were brothers, but none of them would ever admit that they cared for each other out loud. That didn’t stop people from thinking Jade was the more capable and reliable brother than Floyd, cunning and mischief aside.

Floyd was the one who helped you out whenever he could. He was the one who spent the most time with you in Mostro Lounge. He was the one who made a beeline towards you every time he saw even a glimpse of your head. He was the one who made you laugh and smile, especially whenever he noticed that you were down in the dumps.

He found himself in the courtyard, and his mood soured more at the sight of the fountain. The memory of you, laughing and sitting like a drenched duck in the water, overlapped with the image. Grumbling, he kicked a pebble off the path and clenched his jaw.

“Ah…” Floyd sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before ruffling the locks on the back of his head. His feet halted right in front of the fountain, with its clear and burbling water. Looking down at his reflection, he saw your face beside his—all smiles and eyes hiding behind your cheeks. His heart felt weird, as if being strangled by some invisible force that Floyd couldn’t punch nor squeeze.

He clicked his tongue and looked away from his reflection. With a frustrated groan, he mumbled to himself, “Why did it have to be Jade, Shrimpy? I’d fight tooth and nail for ya, but it’s Jade.”

With that, Floyd kicked the base of the fountain like a petulant child. A dull crack echoed in the desolate courtyard, before water gushed out of the broken stone. It spilled through the fissure, and Floyd took a step back to keep his shoes from getting drenched.

He frowned again and stalked off to find something else to occupy his time with. The afternoon sun showered the courtyard with a golden glow, which only reminded him of the time the sunlight illuminated your grinning face as you laughed.

“Why’d it have to be you, Prefect?” Floyd mumbled, shoulders sagging and foot kicking another pebble in the way. Maybe, in the near future, he’d get bored and forget about you. His heart wouldn’t do that weird pitter-patter, and his lips wouldn’t twitch into a grin with one look at you. His chest wouldn’t grow fuzzy and warm. He wouldn’t get the urge to run to where you were whenever he wanted to see you—which was every day, honestly.

Floyd hoped he would forget about you, but you were so difficult to forget. He’d never find someone else who captured his interest this much. He’d never find someone who looked so beautiful, even if the noises that left them were unattractive and childish. Even if their smile was too wide to be natural. Even if they were fascinated by him at first sight, rather than scared and intimidated.

No one else would be like you, but you just had to like his brother instead.

[sukioyakio]

Siren Sukuna

an:just more headcannon on this au,and more in sight of reader. Also maybe edited or not 😭 Part|, Part||, Part|||

TheifReader who has been stealing stuff all her life,and now she’s this Sukuna company for life.(and she did once not come back with food and ended up sleeping in an empty alleyway.And she after that day she learned her lesson about the spell he put on her,her whole half body hurted)

Theifreader Who completely amazes and terrified of Sukuna.And at times she wonder if she will one day his lunch.

It was a good afternoon at the new place,and reader was very pleased with watching the little fishes in the pond.Your smiling at how cute the fishes look. Until A large sea creatures with reddish scales just bite off the fishes body and then killed them with his hands.In which your mouth dropped in sadness and disgust. And then Sukuna coming up to the coming up to the shore where you were.Just to show you how he brutally killed the fish with just his teeth and nails. “W-wwhat ..w-why the Fishes,I-i would’ve got food” You said completey upset at him eating the fishes.As you watch him tear up the fish head so easily and eating it. As you see him look at you with a Uninterested look. “Don’t care about your opinions brat,I was hungry” he replied while he sides another fish in his mouth.As you gulp down saliva in horror. ‘Oh lord,why did you give me to him,he just gonna eat me up’ You mentally said,shaking your head to the horrible thought of it.

TheifReader Who just gets lost in sight of staring at Sukuna body,and at times you wonder how such a beautiful creature would have a scary presence.(Girl is completely oblivious to her little feeling for the damn fish),Whenever she get food in the afternoon and if she has extra time she’ll looks though rich folk house and try not to get caught up in the act of robbing jewelry or jewels that reminds her of the scary siren.And then brings to him as a gift from her. After she done running away from the guards.

After running a while from the guards and making sure that the food wasn’t too shaken up by all the running (she gets her food from a old friend who had known her since she started her life a thief and treated her like a family friend) when you got to the large pond,you walked around the grass and announced your arrival to a particular siren fish.You were more happy to show the jewelry you ahem borrowed from. ”Sukuna!!Im back from My visit” You announced once again,now continue walking towards the water fall,As you wait near where the water fall to see if the red siren would appear. As you watch the sky and sun shine turn it into it most beautiful colors.You put the plates of food onto the ground so you could glance at the jewelry you brought. Dangling it in the sky The red ruby shines with the sunlight making it look so beautiful and divine.It was a Necklace with gold base but the charm was a skeleton case in a ruby gem. ”Brat im here” Sukuna response with a big yawn on his mouth as he swim where your at.His face shows disinterested in what your holding. As you turn to see him at the shore of the pond,you smile at him;you quickly put the jewelry’s in your pocket and grab the plates of food.Now Sitting off in the shore as you give him his plate of food (ever since your first day of giving him food he clearly didn’t like vegetables very much but liked meat). You haven’t look at him or touch your plate yet. He quickly grab the plate and began chomping on the cooked meats.He could see that you had something to say to him,either it was another question or another story time. ”What is it women,You haven’t touched your plate yet or it because you think very highly of me and give it to me” Sukuna says with a tease and a smug smile as he plotted another steak into his mouth. You look at him with an ‘Are you seriously think that’ kind of face.You just mutter ‘as if’ underneath your breath.As you sip out a heavy sigh.And began talking.And as observant Sukuna is when reading your expression,he couldn’t read this one.Which has him curious about what it is. “It nothing,I swear” You said with an awkward smile waving your hands as to dismiss it.Sukuna wasn’t going to have you ditch what bothering you. ”Spilled it already brat” He replied with a glare of irritation at your attempt of dismissing your point. You flinch at his gaze as you started to speak. ”o-ok alright,I’ll just didn’t think you’ll like it,but I got you a small little gift,Well it almost got me stopped by the guards but I couldn’t stop myself from getting these jewelry.It reminded me of you so here it is” You rapidly spoke with a little shy smile scratching the back of your neck. As you go into your pocket and show the necklace and the other jewelry such as rings with red gems on it. You even stole some from the those stands that sell jewelry. As you show the necklace,while holding it with delicacies. If anything hearing you talk about how stuff reminded you of him made him feel something in heart that he had never felt in his entire fish existence. Which get this scary looking fish cheeks and ears red.Who just flick your forehead off,making you groan out in pain. You put the necklace down to rub your forehead But without asking him a simple question. “So Do you like it?Can I put it on you”You asked him with a cheeky smile,As you watch him covered his face his large hand.He doesn’t want to appear weak.He just grumble about how stuipd of a brat you have to be. “Ugrh no now just eat your food before I do it for you”

Siren Sukuna who still allows you to put on the necklace on;on the very next day.With some Grumbling and hissing he allow you.In which he couldn’t admit that he didn’t enjoy seeing how you smiled at him When you were done with puttting the necklace.

Siren Sukuna who at random days Tells you mini stories about his life,either it would be about the spells he could do or how many people he had killed in one day.

“I have family out there in the ocean” He says nonchalantly without a single thought to what he said,floating in the pond watching the clouds move and the sun shining down onto them with it warmth as well it breeze of cool air. As you were doing the same watching the sky with a small smile on your face,as you lay on the bright green grass. ”that cool. .. must be nice to have family there” You breathlessy says without a the need the need to continue on. You pause for a moment before riseing up from your position and turning your head to him with a confused face. ”arent your family just fishes,how can you called them family if you literally eat them?”You answered him with your hands animating how he eat fishes. ”No you fuck tard,How dumb are you,Brat.Never mind what I said.” He replied with irritation creeping up his face. “Nuh Uh!!Your not leaving nor swimming out this conversation”

Siren Sukuna hates whenever you ask him to do your hair,or help you brush the nuts off.Like what is he your maid or somthing.(he still does it,but at times he will tug down on your hair on purpose)

”OWW!!!Please Don’t fucking brushed so hard” You said with a mumbbling of how your head hurted. It was technically your fault for asking a siren to do your hair,and the first thing he bring is a fork (I could never use a little mermaid reference 🙄)He just replied with it your fault that you don’t have a high pain tolerance or not being able to do your hair. “Shut it brat you want your hair down or not”He harshly says. “Urghh fine stupid brunt fish” you replied as soon as you finish speaking another tug was done again.You cried out in pain and curses at Sukuna. And Sukuna smirking devilish.

Siren Sukuna Who randomly blurs out that he can use a spell to give him a human form just to see your reaction.

”WAIT!!Really?!?Then why don’t you use it fish!” You exclaimed loudly as you shakes your hands up in frustration as an angry pout is painted across your face. And a smug expression is painted on his as well. ”I Still dont believe you,Fried fish,how About you show me your big fat lie of a spell!” You announced to Sukuna with a disbelieving eyes staring down at Sukuna red orbs. ”And what make you think you are deserving to see my human form or matter of fact spell,maybe if you don’t talk for a whole day then I’ll be willing to show it to you” He says with confidence and proud,his voice carrying himself as you pout for a bit then put on a fake smile. ”you know how your pretty voice of a siren would do for me when I do my job aka stealing,quick answer FUCKING EASY!” You yelled at him with your hand crossed at him. You felt a sense of pain flatter on your shoulder,making you cry out in pain. You glare at Sukuna.Ofc Sukuna pinches you if you become to loud.

Siren Sukuna who doesn’t know or want to understand what he was feeling when you came back from the city all hurt and bloody.But he hated the most is when you came back to him like your left leg isn’t broken or the fact your shoulder is bleeding out blood because of a arrow.With a reassuring smile to think that he’ll be alright to see you like that.

It was your fault for thinking that you’ll be able to steal something from the royals house.The First thing that was wrong,was that you decided to steal something in daylight.You didn’t even get anywhere near the castle.Because you landed off and broke your left leg. But you push yourself to walk into the house and quickly walked into whatever room and steal anything.But right when you were going to walk out one of the royal guards saw you and yelled at you and yelled for backup.In Which your body was in fight or flight and you started to run as fast as you could even if it meant hurting your left leg. You were able to get on top of houses to jump onto other house so the royal guard couldn’t get you.But even that they were able to land a arrow onto your shoulder. All you thought was going back to the pond. When the guard shot you in the should you were going to jump down the last house,but you slip your landing badly,hitting your head onto the building but your made it,and continue to push the pain and run down onto the grass of the exits. But your head was bleeding and blood dripping from your head onto your face. Full on running,toward the pond and fully escaped the guards.You try to maintain your breathing while trying to keep focus on your movements and not the pain that radiates through your body.As you pass through multiple trees. When you made it to the pond you couldn’t even see clearly,holding your right arm close to at least stop the bleeding.You couldn’t think properly as you called out for a fellow fish. “S-sukuna!!-You cough up a bit of blood walking more closely to the pond before-Sukuna. . . I’m back.”You breathlessly spoke up,as your breathing was becoming more heavy and unsteady. Sukuna lazily got out of the little cave inside the water fall and now swimming up to the surface with a completely disinterested look. That until he saw you in that state,His eyes widened in fear or in shock or in anger he couldn’t tell. ”What the fuck happened!”He exclaimed in a harsh tone but lance with concern.Already in your direction.He could see that your breathing isn’t steady. And the fact you couldn’t even stand properly. “O-oh hi Sukuna… L-look what I got for. . Y-you” You replied barley properly with each other word your breathing get more shaky. You took out two bracelet pieces with a weak small. ”Fucking Brat!! I didn’t ask for that! I’m asking what the fuck happened to your body!!You can’t even walk or breathe properly!!Stop fucking smiling at him like that When your ass is fucking bleeding out so much”He yelled with a stern and cold voice as his eyes were filled with anger,fear,and worry. His heart beating and pounding against his heart.He fucking didn’t even know why he so scared if that what he calls it. “Ha-ha … you should look at . . . Yourself. . it was.. T-the guards”You said so weak and small before you could even get to give his bracelet.your vision turn black and you collapse onto the grassy ground. When Sukuna saw you collapse onto the ground his heart sank into a thousand pieces,He scream your name out as he quickly transformed into his human form and carried you into his large body. He started to perform his healing spells on you,as he curse multiple times underneath his breath,about how dumb you are and that he hates how you brings him things that he doesn’t need like your jewelry’s. He nevers wants to see you like this ever again.You made a deal with him and you will keep it.

Siren Sukuna Who makes sure to visit the city,especially to the royal guards and burn and killed multiple people with the same logo of the arrow that was used to shoot you in the shoulder. And when he was done he cancel his fire spell and Grabs him clothes for him to cover his naked body and some clothes for you too. (He says that he did this not for you,yea right.But for him to remember that he is still the strongest creature alive)

That all I wrote today,I hope you like this one,even though I Think I wrote a little too much 🥲

But if you have any suggestions or ideas or opinions on this please feel free to share them in the comments.

Made by @sukioyakio

also thank you for 180 followers

[venerablemonk27]

Last weekend I was planning to drive out to the west side to pick up a load of birdseed. My coworker had told me that he was out at Tiedeman's Pond the other day, and I said to myself, "I bet there's ducks on that pond. I better go check." So I grabbed my camera bag on the way out the door. And folks? There were ducks.

[ID: A male Wood Duck swims on a pond of rippling blue water from left to right. The duck is presenting his entire profile to the camera, from glossy green head to dark tail tip. He has a brown body, more burgundy at the breast, with finely scaled tan and gray flanks and just a hint of teal peeking through on the wing. Each color patch is bordered with a brilliant white stripe, including a lovely pattern on the face and head. His head feathers are swept back in a longish crest that looks black except for the iridescent green where the sun has caught it. This contrasts with a striking bill in orange gradients with a white patch on top and black tip. His eye is a bold fire engine red. End ID]

I was surprised to find multiple pairs of Wood Ducks very close to the edge of the pond, because these guys will usually fly at the first sign of a human in the area. I can only assume they were desensitized by the frequent groups of walkers out with their kids and their dogs.

There were lots of other ducks to be seen: Lesser Scaups, Hooded Mergansers, Buffleheads, Ruddy Ducks, Mallards. But most of these were way out at the center of the pond and not interested in being photographed. The only exception being a small group of Ring-necked Ducks that were diving for food near the cattails.

[ID: A male Ring-necked Duck swims from right to left on the pond. It is glossy black, with light gray flanks fading to white towards the front. His bill is medium gray in the middle, black on the tip, with a bright white border around the edges, circling the nostrils, and separating gray from black. His eye is yellow orange. His feathers are beaded with water droplets from diving for food. End ID]

But it wasn't just ducks on offer that day! Spring means birds migrating back from the south and hungry from the long flight. I got to watch a pair of Great Blue Herons show up and immediately begin hunting.

[ID: A Great Blue Heron is standing in a pond, with a freshly-caught goldfish in its bill. The Heron is standing with its legs completely submerged in the water, with its long neck coiled back as it pulls up the large goldfish. The Heron is several feet tall, mostly gray, with white on their head and a dark blue cap with long trailing feathers at the back. The goldfish is at least eight inches long, and the Heron appears to have speared it on their long upper mandible, which glows orange from the bright sunlight filtering through from behind. End ID]

I was very happy to see that the Herons were doing their part to control the non-native fish population. This one had speared a very large goldfish, and had to think a minute about how to eat it. They dropped the goldfish back in the water only to recapture it for swallowing head-first. Their partner looked on from a short distance away, not having found anything while I was there.

[ID: A second Great Blue Heron slowly wades by, hunting in the shallow part of the pond. This one shows a flash of dark-blue tail feathers, and the direct sunlight offers a nice view of their bright yellow dagger of a bill and their pale yellow eye rimmed in baby blue skin. End ID]

And it wasn't just water birds that were attracted to the awakening pond. This American Crow flew down to the edge to see what small morsels might be crawling around in the mud.

[ID: An American Crow stands at the edge of the pond. The Crow is facing away from the camera, with the sunlight glinting off their glossy black feathers. They are looking toward the camera in profile, showing one brown eye and a chunky black bill. End ID]

The Black-capped Chickadees were out too. This pair had found a nice little tree cavity, and they may have been excavating it further to use as a nest.

[ID: A Black-capped Chickadee peeks out from a tree hollow, holding a small bit of something in their bill. They are just a couple inches tall, with a gray and tan body, and a predominantly black head. They have white cheeks that start at the small black bill and extend back to the neck. They are staring inquisitively at the camera, with little bits of what looks like wood stuck to their face. End ID]

The two Chickadees seemed to be working in shifts, one keeping watch outside while the other one went in to prep the house. I wonder how many generations of birds have grown up in that little knothole...

[ID: A second Black-capped Chickadee perches on a thin branch with delicate feet. They are sitting very still, keeping watch while their partner works in a nearby tree cavity. There are a few tiny flecks of what might be wood on their face. End ID]

Though, the bird that gave me the most excitement on this walk was a new one. My partner teases me, saying that I have to check every seagull to see whether they're a Herring or a Ring-billed. But on this day I had found a Bonaparte's Gull!

[ID: A Bonaparte's Gull floats out in the middle of the pond. The Gull is white with light gray wings and black wingtips. Their head is mostly gray with patches of white, possibly because they're in the middle of molting to grow their breeding plumage. End ID]

The Gull was hanging out with a nice flock of Lesser Scaups, and I knew I had a lifer in my binoculars as soon as I saw that gray head. Every so often it would take off and fly around the pond, looking for tasty fish to snatch from the surface. They never wandered all that close to me, but I got a few nice shots of those wings.

[ID: The Bonaparte's Gull flies low over the pond, on the hunt for small fish. With wings fully extended, it is apparent that the black wingtips are just a thin crescent at the tip of each primary flight feathers. The Gull is in the middle of a down stroke, head forward, orange feet tucked neatly beneath fanned gray tail. End ID]

For only visiting on a whim, this was a very productive walk. I saw 35 bird species, seven for the first time this year, and one for the first time ever. I suppose that's why birders wait all year for spring migration to start.

[charlieslowartsies]

the reason why my August vacation is so important...

This is a long, kinda emotional for me journal <3

As I mentioned a while ago, I was splitting my usual two weeks in June of debauchery (sleeping & laying in the sun & hiking in the woods outback lol) into one week last month and then saved the last week for the end of August.

I also wanted to explain the significance of this trip! Less about having to justify my time off and more about 'eeee excite omg!' and wanted to share with y'all!

SO a long time ago when I was a wee Charlie, from age 0 up to 21, I was incredibly close to my grandparents on my mom's side. My nana died when I was 15, and while that took a huge toll on me, I was fortunate enough to have my grandpa till 21. These two people were absolutely second parents. My parents did a good enough job raising me, but they had huge fights and my father had anger issues and it caused a lot of wounds. These were the people I could always rely on, when I couldn't rely on my folks.

They lived 2 hours away on a wonderful lake in a lil tiny trailer over looking it. I spent weeks at a time there, even the occasional month. I learned to swim in that lake, which in hindsight prolly wasn't the safest idea due to its depth, and grew up to be obsessed with swimming. Learned how to sail, ski, fish. Learned how to bake, tend a garden, how a fresh bowl of fruit in the morning should be before breakfast.

We'd swim 3x a day, sometimes just to float and cool down before bed, since there was no a/c and the summer nights were hot. Laid on our backs and counted stars like the Lion King. Fried trout on the grill after we'd caught them, had watermelon seed spittin' contests. My grandpa grew pumpkins and carved my name into one, so that the writing grew bigger and bigger over the months. I had one pumpkin live from September to April.

My handprint is on the last cement step leading down to the beach. It was eroded when we scattered my grandpa's ashes in 2014, but I remember where it was, how to place my palm to compare.

I guess I'd say I had a mixed childhood of various great, good, bad, and horrible things. Like most people, yanno? But those golden summer days on the lake were 100% a part of who I am today, and where my many of my happiest memories come from.

Due to me being in college, cost to heat the place in winter when they had no intention of living there, my family sold the property on the lake to an investor who planned to rent it out.

This was 2014. The same year he died, the same year my horse died (within 2 months of each other) and one of my father's many health issues landed him in the hospital from Oct to Dec, so that he spent xmas on an iv stand. With everything going on, we had no time or money for a big dinner, or presents that year.

I guess that was the first year I realized childhood was truly and officially over, and it was time to grow up. Many of us have that marked moment on our life.

Time passed. I finished college, went back home after turning down a few out of state jobs to spend time with my dad, who I had a feeling didn't have much time left. Turned out I was right, as I came home in 2015 and he died in 2022. There was an accident in '16 where he almost bled to death on our kitchen floor, but I was able to provide pressure/medical care and give him some more years.

Shortly after we moved in 17, I was notified that the house on the lake had been rented to someone who unfortunately had a lot of issues mental health wise, and they had eventually abandoned the property. It sat, rotting, and got so covered on the inside in black mold the county leveled the place and destroyed it.

We had left it fully furnished due to the buyer's urging. Ancient, stunning mid century and older furniture from my great-great grandparents time. My nana's organ player. The rocker my mom and I sat in. And, frankly, to quote one of those popular songs, the house that built me was just gone.

I figured that was the end of it, and cried and got angry/sad and then moved on and just tried surviving as covid hit later on in the years.

Turns out, the man who rented it decided that wasn't going to happen again. He put a new trailer on the property, and rented it out for vacationing due to it's location. We didn't know this until I stumbled across it while daydreaming about a vacation on the lake that I missed it was a relative, one I could at least go back to for a few days. My heart skipped so many beats when I saw the address and paused, thinking there had to be come mistake. It wasn't.

Not only can I spend time on that property again (in a new house which honestly might be for the best) But turns out, for whatever reason, they kept the furniture separate and placed a few pieces into the new house. There's a photo of the rocker in the layout photos. The two level lamp they had is still intact and functioning. I booked the place for a week immediately.

It's expensive for me, but my girlfriend and I will make it work. (Certainly not like we have far to travel.) We're going to be there smack dab in the middle of my Grandfather's birthday. I haven't had a true, just-for-me vacation since 2015 when we went to a camping ground. The excitement I have for this is immeasurable.

The dock my Dad and Grandpa put in themselves is fixed up. The crumbled little cement step is still there with a tiny indent, where my 4 yr old hand was pressed. I am going back to this place, and going back in time for just a short while, to heal and have fun and be a whole mess of emotions. I never got to say good bye to my Nana or Grandpa.

But I can say goodbye to them now, and say 'hello again, old friend' to the lake, and the new little house that sits before it.

That is why i am so excited about august. I know I don't share personal things on here a ton, but I wanted to share this. Thank you for reading this far if you have, I appreciate it.

I hope you have a wonderful day and remember how important you are <3 And as always stay hydrated! -Charlie

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Sharing Is Caring - Gwynriel One Shot

Thread: What happenes when a bunch of warriors get bored on a mission? With a game of Truth or Dare, both Gwyn and Azriel reveal more than they wanted. But truth is the best base for a strong relationship.

Warnings: cursewords

Word count: 4.7k

 Wet. Cold. Miserable.

Azriel had pondered over the right wording for a while. Two hours, to be exact, while he and his group of spies and warriors fought their way through the colorful wilderness of Autumn court. But when he nearly slipped off a stone for the third time, he finalized the conclusion that would end up written on his report to Rhys. Wet. Cold. Miserable. And no progress to show for.

Three days and two nights they had spent on the border of Autumn and Winter court now and the spirits were getting low, despite the beautiful scenery of the woods.

“Do you think we’ll be able to find a place to stay soon?”, Emeries breathy voice travelled through the otherwise quiet evening. Gwyn, who was flanking her, just turned her pink-cheeked face towards Azriel, the hope for rest visible in her eyes as well. To give them both credit though, they haven’t been complaining much at all, unlike Bron and Orion. Both more seasoned spies trained by Azriel himself have been puffing and moaning constantly, much to his dismay.

A gust of wind saved him from having to give his partners a non-certain answer. Cassian landed through a broad space between the lines of trees, a grin plastered on his face that promised mischief. “Good news and bad new folks, what do you want first.”

Nesta let out a groan. “If you say you have found a clearing, but we need to cross a river and a mountain to get there, then I’d rather try to be a fish for the night.”

“No need for that.”, Cassian spoke with his usual loud and clear voice, but exhaustion was visible in the hollow and darkness around his eyes, “I reckon we only need ten minutes to get to the clearing, give or take. What is less than ideal is the fire we will have to build, because the space is freezing like the worst Illyrian winter.” Cass shot Azriel a look, who just nodded his head in confirmation.

They had avoided the fire for the last two nights, too fearful of being spied by autumn soldiers. With another day between them and the court though, Azriel was confident in their safety.

The promise of rest and heat spurred the group on to new and never known levels of athleticism. In no time they reached the clearing, organized and ate some of their food supplies, and built their tents. As the first flick of a flame came to life in the middle of the circle of tents, the team spirit did as well. At least for some of them.

Bron was opening his flask of whiskey, already sitting comfortably on the ground, when he declared: “I have a brilliant idea.”

Azriel had to stop himself from making a face.

“Let’s all play truth or dare!”

And now he had to stop himself from groaning.

“Brilliant indeed, I like the way you think, goldielocks.” That was Cassian, of course, because who else would support an idea like that except someone who was an actual child at heart.

Nesta and Emerie shared a glance, shrugged, and then too took their seats outside the tents around the fire, apparently ready to play.

Azriel was just about to open his mouth to excuse himself swiftly from the situation, when in his periphery, a flash of red and blue made him think twice. As Gwyn sat down in the entrance of her tent, next to Azriel, he was reminded that anyplace that had Gwyn couldn’t be so bad.

Up until he caught her eyes. And saw the plea in them. And the uncertainty. And then he physically couldn’t leave her anymore. Removing his hand from the ground where he wanted to push himself off, he placed it back on his lap instead. Gwyn flashed him a quick and small smile in return, knowing exactly what he had been about to do. Of course she did. After the year they spent training with each other nearly every night, she probably knew him better than most people in his life.

And he could sense why she was nervous. The two reasons with equally as many braincells shared between them smirked while sharing their flask of whiskey, completely oblivious to the anxious energy radiation off Gwyn in waves. If Azriel were confident in her affection to him, he might have hugged her to his side, or at least shielded her with part of his body. But he wasn’t. And he also wasn’t about to embarrass her in front of two strangers.

“Okay, let’s get this party started.”, if Azriel heard correctly, Bron already slurred his letters a little, “Cassian first: truth or dare, general?”

Cassian let an easy smirk bloom all over his face before he said, “Truth.”

Orion looked like it was the Winter Solstice and his birthday all in one. “When was the first time you crapped your pants in battle?” How he could ask a question like that with a nearly fanatic gleam in his eyes was beyond Azriel. He still glanced at his brother, waiting for his reply.

“What makes you assume I’ve ever crapped my pants? More than once, too?”, Cassian bristled. Nesta’s answering cough sounded suspiciously close to ‘Bryaxis’.

The warriors around the campfire burst out into laughter, drowning out Cassian’s colorful protests.

Even Azriel couldn’t help his smile. He remembered at least three occasions in their younger years when Cassian had swiftly excused himself before a battle, red creeping into his cheeks and a walk that told him everything he needed to know about the matter. But he was no snitch, especially not in front of Cassian’s mate.

While the group was busy joking and drinking, Azriel felt the presence of Gwyn lean into him a little more than normal, her arms pressed into his side. “I bet he’s hiding something, and I bet you know what it is.”, her whispered voice did things to him that he didn’t want to admit either. So he just leaned into her as well, bowing his head slightly to better reach her ear. “I’m known to know a lot of things.”

When he met her eye, she was already glowering at him, eyes turned into slits. “I know you’re known to know things, Mr. Vague. And I want to be let in on said knowledge.”

Azriel didn’t even feel the lazy grin coming over his face. It was a normal occurrence when talking to Gwyn at this point. “Do you think I give away priceless information just like that? Offer something in return, then I might think about it.”

If it was possible, Gwyn’s eyes narrowed even more, before she turned pensive. After a heartbeat or two, she offered: “I had my first kiss when I was 17.”

“I already know that.”, he shot back immediately. The little emotion called jealousy that snuck up on him at the thought of Gwyn kissing someone was nothing new to him either.

“Once, I burned my right bum-cheek trying to extinguish a fire.”, she tried again.

Azriel let out a near-silent laughter, even though his heart squeezed together in sympathy for the burn. “How did that happen?”

Gwyn sat up straight, eyes going back to the flickering fire. “I panicked, didn’t have a blanket or water around. So I just sat on the little flame. It worked, too.”, she finished, shrugging and a little pink-cheeked.

Azriel was at the point of biting his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud and attract everyone’s attention. “That sounds… like an interesting tactic.”

“Mh-hm.”, Gwyn smiled at him, the color of the bonfire lighting up her face beautifully, “so, I traded you a secret. Your turn, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel lifted both his eyebrows. “I said I’d think about giving you my secret once you told me one of yours. And I’m thinking … no.”

Just as Gwyn’s jaw fell open at his audacity, Orion’s annoyance of a voice travelled over to their spot. “What are you two snickering about? Mind sharing with the class?”

He had this expression on his face that promised trouble. And that seemed to wait for a punch.

“Nothing. Get on with your game.”, Azriel shot back immediately, saving Gwyn from having to answer him. He probably put a little too much bite into his voice, because Orion’s face paled just a fraction.

“Gladly”, he recovered quickly, “Shadowsinger: truth or dare?”

“Dare.”, because no way in hell would he share the answer to deep questions with just anyone. He made that mistake once and learned his lesson from it.

Orion took the time to think for a moment. During that time, his eyes flickered quickly to Gwyn - not too long to be noticed by most of the fae surrounding the fire, but long enough for Azriel to feel annoyed. And scared of what will come out of his mouth.

“I dare you to kiss the person you love most in this circle of people.”, Orion proudly announced.

And just like that, Azriel’s heart took a deep plunge in his chest. He knew who the person he loved most was. Without a shadow of a doubt. Her perfect image rarely left his mind. But he also knew that she more than likely would not want him to kiss her just like that. In front of people, nonetheless.

He felt Gwyn’s whole body go ramrod-straight by his side as he took his time in getting off the floor, wiping his trousers clean, and walking over to where Nesta sat. This was the save option.

Nesta’s eyes jumped from Gwyn to him, and then she nodded just slightly to give her okay in this. He knew she’d get it. He also knew she had at least a little understanding of the scope of Azriel’s feelings towards Gwyn, not that she ever spoke to him about it.

So, when Azriel lowered himself on his knee and pressed a tiny, gently kiss to her cheek, she didn’t protest, but smiled a sad smile.

Neither sad nor gentle were any of the emotions Cassian let out the minute Azriel’s lips met his mate.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, AZ?”, he basically shouted at him, arms and wings flared out wide. He genuinely looked angry. Azriel had to admit that the reaction confused him. Nesta and Cassian were long done with their frenzy, and his brother never objected when he kissed Nesta to greet her. “WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK would you pick Nesta over ME?”

And there it was. The group erupted into laughter again while Azriel shook his head in defeat. His brother will be the death of him someday. “So, are you saying I should have kissed you instead?”

Cassian looked at him wildly, his fingers on either hand coming together to form a pinch in front of his body, “EXACTLY!”

“Next time, brother.”, Azriel mumbled before sitting back down next to Gwyn. She did not acknowledge him, didn’t move a muscle as his arm brushed against her when he lowered himself. She was eerily still, and Azriel started to wonder why that might be.

The game continued for a while longer, but Azriel barely listened to what was being said. Hell, he barely noticed anything beside the girl sitting next to him and his racing thoughts. And the only explanations he could come up with for her strange reaction was: a) that she was growing more and more anxious at the turn the game took, or b) that she had expect him to kiss her.

An eruption of butterflies at the mere thought of kissing her distracted Azriel for a moment. It wasn’t as if the idea of doing so was something outlandish. They had… moments during the past year, where he was sure that Gwyn would jump over her shadow and press her lips to his. But it never happened, and Azriel was too frightened to make the first move. Too frightened to pressure her, too frightened of rejection.

The stars were already shining bright on the small group when they started growing more and more reckless and drunk with each passing round of the game. It was Cassian’s turn again when he proudly declared: “Dare!”

And Emerie had the perfect dare ready for the take, “I dare you to catch us a bat!”

The girls around the fire snickered while Cassian fake-glowered at Emerie for a second. “Easy.” Then he got up to make a show of stretching his arms and wings, apparently ready for the challenge.

Azriel would have smiled if Gwyn hadn’t scooched away from him in the past minutes. Now he was sure, more than ever, that her behavior didn’t have anything to do with the game, but everything with him. And he was determined to make it up to her.

While Cassian was busy with his task and the rest of the group shouted ‘helpful’ tips and watched in amusement, Azriel reached out his hand to find Gwyn’s. She had both her hands placed behind her body, supporting her weight as she leaned back to watch the others. The slightest jerk of her shoulders was the only give-away when his scarred skin touched her flawless, albeit cold fingers.

But she didn’t pull away. So Azriel let his fingers trace over hers, just the slightest, feather-light touch. Gwyn turned her head to him, her face carefully blank. He taught her how to perfect that kind of face that didn’t show any emotion. But teaching her meant he also knew her tells. The tenderness in her eyes that she just couldn’t hide yet.

Right when he was about to say something, a shockingly loud clash made them both jump.

Behind Gwyn, on top of her now crumpled tent, laid Cassian. His arm was outstretched in victory, cradling a small, black creature.

“By the mother!”, Azriel groaned out, stepping away from the mess that was Cassian’s limbs, branches of a tree, and Gwyn’s tent.

“I did it, losers!”, Cassian proclaimed loudly, and way too proudly for the situation he was in now.

“Cassian! Why did you have to land on my tent of all places?”, Gwyn asked, both her hands on her head in distress. The sticks holding the fabric up had bent completely out of shape, others were even broken. Azriel’s heart began to race even harder at the thought of Cassian landing on Gwyn.

Only now Cassian seemed to understand what had happened. He hastily got up, untangled himself and then looked sheepishly in Gwyn’s direction. “I’m sorry Gwynie, I didn’t mean to land on the tent. I kind of thought I would get my wings out in time and not…”

“…fall like a rock.”, Azriel commented. Cassian was too drunk to argue with, and judging from the amused slash dazed expression of everyone else, except Emerie, the others wouldn’t be of much help either. “Okay, I guess that concludes the evening. To bed everyone.”

The group of fae grumbled, but complied nonetheless by going into their respective tents. Orion just fell backwards, his legs still sticking out the entrance. Azriel could have sworn he already started snoring while leaning back.

Emerie was the only one, despite a slightly frustrated Gwyn, to notice the problem at hand. “You can squeeze into my tent, Gwyn. It’s hardly warm enough to sleep outside all night, even if the fire keeps burning.”

Gwyn nodded, then glanced to Emeries tiny single tent in resignation. “I hope you don’t mind me sleeping on top of you.”

Emerie snorted, then winked playfully at Gwyn. But she didn’t find it in her to flash her a smile in return. The past days had been hard, both on the mind and on the body. Sleeping in an overcrowded tent was less than ideal, and both Emerie and Gwyn were aware of that.

“Gwyn, if you’d feel comfortable with it, and I definitely would, we can share a tent.”, Azriel finally found the words that were so desperate to come out the second he saw Cassian land and noticed Gwyn’s predicament. With a quiet voice, he added, “My tent is inherently bigger since it has to fit the wings.”

Gwyn looked pensive for a while, just staring at the mess Cassian made, her jaws tightening as she ground them together. After what felt like ten minutes to Azriel, she looked directly at him. “Okay, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel nodded, too stunned and frankly, too out of his depth, to formulate a sentence. Emerie acknowledged Gwyn’s decision too by taking her hand and squeezing lightly. It didn’t go unnoticed by Azriel that it was both a ‘good night’, and also a silent encouragement. Because Gwyn would spend her first night with a male since the night her temple was taken, and part of her soul with it.

So when, only a few minutes and slightly awkward maneuvering later, Gwyn was cocooned safely and warmly by Azriel’s side, he didn’t really know whether to curse or praise the Mother for his luck.

“Are you sure that your wing is okay?”, Gwyn whispered for the fourth time within one minute, her nerves visible through her fidgeting. Azriel didn’t see another option than to just lie down on his side, one wing trapped beneath his and her body. For the moment, it wasn’t too uncomfortable, but he knew it will be almost excruciating in an hour or so.

“Gwyn, calm down. My wing is fine. Or it will be, once you stop moving so much.”, he whispered back, pinning her down with his stare so she would believe him and settle down. The tent was just big enough for Azriel to lie down on his stomach with his wings drawn close to his body. With Gwyn in the mix, both had to lie on their sides, their knees touching.

Was it the most comfortable? No. Would he still prefer this to his bed in the House of Wind? Or anywhere, really? Absolutely.

Gwyn seemed comfortable enough, mentality wise. Her breathing was even, face relaxed from what he could tell in the dark. And that she trusted him like that, preferred his tent over Emerie’s, made his chest swell just a little. And wish for another night on this stupid mission.

“I will kill Cassian come tomorrow. Or I’ll force him to build me a new tent from scratch.”, Gwyn grumbled. She was so close that Azriel could feel her breath caress his skin. He’d give anything for it to be her fingers.

“You know how he gets when he’s drunk.”, Azriel tired to argue for his brother, but even to him his voice sounded off. Cassian was just a reckless, overgrown bat tonight and they both knew it.

Gwyn let out a snort through her nose. “Yes. That’s the next thing I would have a word to him about. Drinking himself stupid while on a mission.” She had a point, even though tomorrow there was just the way home to tick off the list.

“I’ll hold him down, you do the punching, priestess.”, the Shadowsinger suggested, the smile audible in his voice.

“Deal.”, Gwyn let out a sign that was less amused than Azriel would have liked, “And now I have to make you suffer through the night with one wing suffocated by me, and the other cramped to the ceiling.”

She paused, lifting her head slightly from the ground. “Hey, how about you spread the other wing over me. Then at least one will function properly for the flight home tomorrow.”

Azriel barely held back a groan. He didn’t even think about having to actually use his wings to get them back home in the morning. But her suggestion overshadowed every negative thought in just a second. Because she had really just asked him to basically cocoon her in his wings. His Illyrian blood sang beneath his skin, and he grew uncomfortably hot from just thinking about how Gwyn would emerge from the tent the next morning, smelling like him.

Clearing his throat, Azriel mumbled a ‘good idea’ and then spread out his wing over Gwyn’s form. He wasn’t able to extend it completely, but the stretch felt fucking amazing nonetheless.

It must have shown on his face. “Better?”, Gwyn asked with a shy smile. She probably still though her presence in here was an inconvenience. And that needed to change.

So before he could think about what he was doing, Azriel grabbed Gwyn’s hand and interlaced his fingers with hers, resting them right between their chests. She was still too cold for his liking, but a minute or two in his wings would do the trick. “Gwyn, I can promise you that there is no-one I’d rather have in this tent with me than you. That’s the honest truth.”

Gwyn’s eyes flicked from their intertwined hands back to his face, a small smile on her lips. “You have been avoiding the truth all night. Why not now?”

“Just because I don’t share my secrets with my companions doesn’t mean I can’t share them with someone I trust.”, he explained.

Gwyn furrowed her brows just a fraction. “So you trust me, then?”

“I do.”, was the immediate answer she got in return. He had entrusted her with information, his feelings and dreams for the past months now. Well, all his feelings except one.

Gwyn just stared at him for a while, deep in thought, while her thumb drew little circles against Azriel’s hand. From time to time, she sucked in a breath, as if she was about to say something but thought better of it. They lay like that for a while, just the noises of the woods surrounding them, while Gwyn took her time to seemingly muster up courage for something.

Then, she finally spoke. “I believe you owe me another truth, Shadowsinger.”

“Another truth?”, was his incredibly smart reply, voice going a bit raspy.

Gwyn’s features were set and determined as she stared him down, nodding courtly as if bracing herself for a fight. As if he would ever fight with her. “Another truth. You know, for the secret I told you earlier.”

“But me not giving you a secret in return was fair. I never promised you.”, he said softly. He didn’t really know why he protected himself so much still, especially around her. Gwyn did deserve a bit more honesty and forthcomingness from him, he just wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to stop once the secrets spill out of him.

Gwyn’s eyes were cast down now, not wanting to give away any emotion to him. But she couldn’t hide the strain on her voice when she replied, “I guess so. Sorry for not letting it go.”

Then she flashed him a very quick and very fake smile, their hands still interlocked in front of their bodies. “Good night then, Shadowsinger. Thanks again for sharing your tent.”

Sharing his tent was one thing, but sharing his love for her was another. Still, he felt like a complete asshole for disappointing her like that. Holding her hand and having her engulfed in his wings wasn’t enough, even though Azriel had hoped so. True love seemed to take sacrifices, courage and determination. All of which bubbled up in the Shadowsinger now.

“Let’s play another round of truth or dare then. Ask me.”, his voice was barely a whisper as it travelled through the night and to Gwyn’s ear. Her eyes shot open immediately, but her gaze was still weary. It squeezed Azriel’s insides knowing that she was so unsure about him, and that that reaction was entirely his fault.

“Az, truth or dare?”, she whispered back after a while.

“Truth.”

A heartbeat passed, then another. Gwyn pressed her eyes close again.

Azriel desperately wanted to help her with this, so he leaned up slightly and then bowed his head down to their hands. He placed a soft kiss on her knuckles, hoping it would give her the courage to speak her mind.

And it seemed to work. “Why did you kiss Nesta for your dare, and not me?” He wasn’t sure if it was truly tears in her eyes he saw, or if the lighting just played tricks on him.

Azriel took a deep breath. “Nesta felt like the safe option. I’ve kissed her a hundred times before, so I knew she wouldn’t object.”

Gwyn nodded her understanding. “Okay.”

She seemed to think that was all the explanation he’d give her.

“I wanted to kiss you, Gwyn, believe me. You were the first and only person that came to my mind when Orion dared me. You are the only person on my mind, period. Not just for a stupid dare.”, his voice got stronger and stronger while sharing this secret, as if his heart was now eager for Gwyn to know the whole story. “I would have loved nothing more than just to turn my head and kiss you. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted it. If you wanted to experience it while being watched by others.”

“You weren’t sure?”, Gwyn interrupted him, her brows furrowed, “You mean the great Shadowsinger, spymaster of the Night court, didn’t get all the hints I’ve given him these past months? You mean to tell me you haven’t noticed the way I look at you, that I just can’t hide my admiration whenever I see you? That I have to drag my eyes off you so I can focus even a little bit on training and learning? I needed a little courage from you, just a little initiative, and I would have been yours in a heartbeat.”

Azriel was too shellshocked to speak, the silence stretching between them like a living being. Having missed all of these previous chances nearly suffocated the Shadowsinger.

“But I understand, it’s okay. You didn’t want to cause a scene.”, she finished, her chest heaving from the heavy confession. “I just wish you’d have chosen me despite the risks, tonight or whenever.”

Speaking of risks…

“I love you.”, Azriel didn’t even feel himself formulating the words, a little surprised when they forced their way out of his mouth, “And I know I have a shit way of showing you. And I know it might be too late now, that you deserved better. But if you allow me, I’d chose you every day from this day forward.”

Gwyn’s lips parted, but no sound came. Then she sucked in a breath, and the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her face lit up the whole tent. He’d give anything to see it again and again for the rest of his life.

Then she nodded, and Azriel’s hand left hers to find purchase behind her neck before he pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth was warm and soft, tentatively moving against him as she snuggled even closer to his side. His wings tightened around her as well, finally allowed the closeness they craved. The kiss turned more and more heated after a while, Gwyn gaining confidence from the way Azriel responded to her moves. After what felt like seconds, but was more like minutes, both had to pause for breath. When they finally parted, still tasting the other on their tongue, Gwyn smiled that sunshine-smile again.

“Well, now I am kind of glad you didn’t kiss me like that in front of the others.”, she giggled while burring her face into the crook of his neck. Azriel did the same but with his nose in her hair.

For a while, they simply stayed like that, in an embrace that spoke of unlimited truth and trust. Azriel was sure Gwyn had fallen asleep from the evenness of her breathing, so he started to run his hand over her back and hair, ecstatic that he could do this mundane thing. With her, it would never be mundane, he thought.

When he was drifting off to sleep himself, he almost didn’t hear her, thinking it was just his imagination playing a trick on him. But come morning Gwyn would tell him it hadn’t been a dream, that she really said it.

“I love you too, Az, with all my heart.”

[redgoldsparks]

August Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

Assassin’s Apprentice by Robin Hobb read by Paul Boehmer 

This was my third re-read of this book, and when looking back over my book list I realized that my first read was 20 years ago!! I believe I picked it up in a used bookstore based solely on the cover art, which is a bit funny in retrospect when looking at it, because it is very beautiful but not very accurate to the character descriptions in the book. Regardless, I'm glad it caught my eye because this remains one of my favorite fantasy novels of all time. It's a coming of age story interwoven with court intrigue, magic, politics, and a deep compassion for common folk, the kind of people who fish, farm, care for horses and dogs, who cook and clean around the edges of the lives of royals and nobles. This story follows Fitz, a bastard son of the royal family, from age 6 to about 14, as he learns and grows into what he might eventually become: a catalyst of immense change. The writing in this series is so good, so grounded in real lived details, neither fast nor slow paced but unrolling at a natural speed that draws the reader along and into this rich and complicated world.

Grace Needs Space by Benjamin A Wilgus and Rii Abrego

Grace lives on a space station with one of her moms, while the other is gone for long stretches of time working on a cargo ship. Grace longs to travel, to visit planets, to see trees and lakes. Finally she gets the chance to go with her space fairing mom on a trip to the inhabited moon Titan, but her mom barely has time for her, constantly delaying her requests for games, attention, or adventure. So Grace sets out on her own for the day on Titan with a group of kids she met the day before. This gentle family drama is resolved when engineering mom swoops in to remind Grace and cargo ship mom that working together and being honest is the best way to move forward. I loved the artwork; all of the characters had a cuddly quality and the space ship and station interiors were simple but very effect, especially with the lovely colors.

Witching Hour by Beth Fuller 

A short, beautifully drawn comic about a teen's journey into fairyland and what can be found there.

The Monster Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson 

The first book in this series was devastating, with enough content warnings and upsetting aspects that I was genuinely unsure if I'd go back for more. But my book club decided to continue with the series, so here we are. This installment is challenging in a different way. Originally, this book was just the first part of a 360,000 word manuscript that had to get chopped into two volumes. It suffers from middle-book problems; no distinct beginning and no conclusive ending. The majority of the story is a long drawn out chase scene, which is a story structure that works for some but not so well for me. I remain deeply impressed by the breadth of Seth Dickinson's world building. I enjoyed the new POV characters, especially the nonbinary Tau-Indi, who lives in a society that recognizes a third gender. Dickinson can craft a devastating turn of phrase, designed with precision to emotionally injure the reader. But overall I struggled with the pacing of this book, and the constant violence and confusion.

To Shape a Dragon’s Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose 

A wonderful new alternate-history series with dragons! Anequs lives with her family on the island of Masquapaug; her people have lived through the colonization and invasion of settlers from a white, Norse culture who now have cities, trains, universities, and industry on the mainland of the north-eastern part of America, though countries have different names in this story. Also, every region has its own dragons, though Anequs' people haven't seen one of their native dragons in 200 years, since the Great Dying. When Anequs finds a dragon's egg she initially plans to raise it at home, with all of the songs, dances, and stories of her community. But the Anglish have laws about dragons and one of them is that all future dragoneers must train at an academy; if they don't learn to control their dragon's breath, which can break things down to their elemental parts, the dragon will be killed. This is a very smart and thoughtful alternate history. I loved the indigenous lens, and the fact that Anequs sees through the bullshit rules of her school and doesn't let her self worth be judged by an outside culture. If I have one complain it's that the book had too many made up words; I'm fine with the fact nearly every place had two or three different names, but I didn't need made up names for the periodic table of elements. But I'm still very interested in reading the sequel and to see where this story goes!

Liberated: The Radical Art and Life of Claude Cahun by Kaz Rowe

Claude Cahun lived at the crossroads of masculine and feminine, of artist and activist, of blessed and cursed by the circumstances and time period they were born into. Rowe weaves together historical photos, direct quotes, and lyrical imagery to tell the tale of this brave queer icon to great effect. It's short but very informative, and really filled out my understanding of someone I previously only knew from a few fandom photos that circulate on tumblr. I had the opportunity to blurb this book; look forward to it's release in September 2023!

The Infinity Particle by Wendy Xu 

A beautifully drawn soft romance set in a utopian Mars colony, a community full of parks, public transit, and cute helpful robots. Clem booked a one way ticket from Earth to work under her intellectual idol, Dr Lin, who works on AI. Clem is initially wowed by her scientist boss, and intregued by her humanoid AI assistant, Kye. But soon the cracks begin to show in Clem's new life- PTSD from an abusive person in her past has followed Clem to Mars; Dr Lin has an ugly temper and doesn't treat Kye as a being with thoughts and feelings; and Kye himself starts to glitch. The color palette of soft reds and blues and the CLAMP manga aesthetic charmed me, as did the hopeful vision of biological and synthetic beings living in harmony.

The Last Session Vol 1: Roll for Initiative by Jasmine Walls, Dozerdraws, and Micah Myers 

When a group of five teens met in their high school's GSA and formed an impromptu D&D group, none of them suspected the game would last for more than four years! Now in college, balancing jobs, internships, partners, and moves, they have gathered again to play the very end of their oldest campaign. With a hitch: the DM wants to add a new person to the party. The art in this volume is excellent, strong character designs, clean page layouts, and beautiful coloring all support a story of friendship and fantasy.

Royal Assassin by Robin Hobb read by Paul Boehmer 

This is my second or third read of this book, but my first since high school. It's not as well paced as book one- sections in the middle definitely drag, and a few of the dynamics of central relationships feel repetitive especially after the wonderful unfolding of the first book. It also only covers about two years of FitzChivalry's life, as opposed to the eight years in book one. But it's still exciting, and the last third has more twists and turns that many books fit into their entire narrative. I'm so invested in this world and these characters, and immediately started book three because I want to know what happens!

[scarlet-traveler]

Katsuki tugged his hood lower over his face as he eyed the people milling about. The town he had stumbled upon while traveling was large and crowded, much more than he preferred, but he couldn’t skip by it and hope to find a smaller place further down the line. It had been almost a week since he left the castle, and the food that he had managed to sneak out of the kitchens had run out two days ago. Fortunately from his studies he had been able to find fruits and other plants in the wilderness to subsist off of for the time being, but he didn’t have the knowledge to hunt and his fishing skills were poor, so he’d ended up going to sleep hungry.

Now hunger gnawed at his stomach, and he was dying for a proper meal. At least a decent cut of meat. And like it or not, as varying scents floated through the air to his nose, this town was the place to get what he wanted.

His only problem was that he needed to be careful not to stand out. Even though it had been a week, he could only get so far on foot, so he was still pretty close to the castle. No doubt the hag had already realized he was gone and sent knights out to find him; there were probably some searching in this very town. He just had to keep his head down and keep moving. The heavy crowds could help to shield him too.

He followed the flow of people walking the cobblestone paths, quickly being swept up into the sounds of pounding feet and dozens of conversations melding in the air, the smells of different foods, so many mixing around him he couldn’t pick out what they were, all coalescing under the midday sun that was just cool enough to be comfortable. It was almost overwhelming, but at the same time freeing. There’s no way the hag would’ve ever let him be this close to the common folk like this, and it was that spiteful thought that kept him moving.

As he looked around at the shops and stalls he passed, listening in on the owners haggling with customers as they sold their wares, a food stand caught Katsuki’s eye. It sold skewered meat roasted over an open flame, and just the sight made his stomach rumble. Taking that as his cue, Katsuki shouldered through the crowd toward the stand, reaching for the coin pouch at his waist. He pulled out a handful of gold coins, debating on how much to give. Meat skewers would be kind of expensive, right?

Shrugging, Katsuki held the entire handful out to the man running the stand. “Could I get one?”

“Of course!” The man plucked one of the skewers from over the fire to hand to Katsuki, but he stopped when he saw the pile of coins in his hand. “Er, I believe that’s a bit much, sir…” His gaze went to Katsuki’s face, and his brows furrowed. “Don’t I know you from somewhere…?”

Shit. Katsuki averted his gaze, tugging his hood down lower. “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“No, I think I’ve seen you before.” The man leaned forward, peering under the hood, and Katsuki leaned back as he gritted his teeth. He did not make it this far just for an extra to find him out. Would it be a bad idea to punch him and run? Good idea or not, it was definitely fucking tempting-

“There you are, man, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” A warm arm landed around Katsuki’s shoulders, making him jolt. He looked over to see a guy about his age and a couple inches taller smiling at the stall owner. “Sorry about him, hope he didn’t cause you any trouble.” He swiftly plucked the skewer from the man’s hand, pressing it into Katuski’s free one. He grabbed a couple coins from his other hand, tossed them to the dumbfounded stall owner, and he snagged a second skewer from the flames before steering Katsuki away. “Have a good one!”

Katsuki could only let himself be pulled along back into the crowd, blinking down at his coins and the newly-acquired food. That…hadn’t been the escape he’d been expecting, but at least he hadn’t needed to cause a scene by punching the guy. He forced himself to relax, closing his fingers around the coins so he wouldn’t drop them before glaring over at the other boy and the skewer he was holding. “I don’t recall saying I’d buy you something too, fucker.”

The guy’s eyes cut over to Katsuki for a split second before turning back to the crowd. His grip on Katsuki’s shoulder tightened. “Really? Seemed like a pretty decent ‘thank you’ for saving your skin back there, your highness.”

His voice had been quiet, almost unheard around the noise of the crowd around them, but that didn’t stop the icy shock that clenched around his heart, pooling into his stomach. “W-What?”

The corner of the other boy’s lips twitched up into a smirk. “I see all that fire’s just for show then.”

Oh, Katsuki could show him fire. If the asshole wanted an explosion to the face, he’d be more than willing to deliver. But then somebody walking by brushed against his arm, reminding Katsuki that he was in a very cramped marketplace, so he shoved away the thoughts of fiery violence. For now.

“So, what, you’re gonna tell a knight about me?” Katsuki put the coins still in his grip back in his pouch, and his hand drifted down to the dagger at his hip. If this guy planned on selling him out, one quick stab would probably be enough to slip away.

Surprisingly though, he simply said “No, I’m not,” as he turned off the path into an alleyway between two businesses, and he finally let go of Katsuki, who didn’t hesitate to shove him away and move several steps back.

“You’re a thief, then?”

The guy raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall behind him. “If I was a thief, I would’ve snatched that entire handful of gold and ditched you back there. Be lucky all I took was one gold piece for this.” He waved the meat skewer in his grasp before tearing off a bite with the sharpest teeth Katsuki had ever seen. Was this guy part shark? “Besi’es, stealin’ ain’ manly,” he added around the mouthful of food.

Katsuki wrinkled his nose at his manners. “So what the fuck do you want me for? Why did you help me?”

The boy swallowed before giving Katsuki a crooked grin with those sharp teeth. “I just found the crown prince of the Bakugou kingdom in the middle of a town alone, pretty far from the castle I might add. Forgive me for being curious.”

Katsuki scoffed. “No.” But, he didn’t leave immediately, instead eyeing the other boy. Despite being no older than him, he was dressed like a traveler: worn and sturdy boots and denim pants made up his bottoms, an open vest and a red scarf around his neck the only thing covering his torso. Twin swords were strapped to his back, and other knives and some pouches hung from his belt. His hair was bright red and spiked up to the sky in probably the shittiest style Katsuki had ever seen.

The most striking thing about the guy were his eyes. They were red like Katsuki’s, but they seemed brighter, like they were on fire. There also wasn’t an ounce of deceit in them as he looked at Katsuki, just that open curiosity like he said. So maybe he could believe him.

His stomach growled again, reminding him of his own food, so he allowed himself to relax a bit as he ate, glaring at the other boy the entire time. “How did you know it was me?” he asked between bites.

He waved his empty skewer at Katsuki’s form. “Your cloak. You always wear it when you’re not in the official royal garb.” His eyes then flicked down to his bare chest, and he smirked a little bit. “Usually you have a shirt on under it though.”

Katsuki’s scowl deepened. “You’re one to talk about being shirtless, Shitty Hair. That vest ain’t exactly covering much either.”

Despite the insult the guy laughed, a bright, happy thing with his head back and everything. “Hey, my hair’s not that shitty!” he defended himself—futilely, because he was wrong. “But you do have a good point about the vest.” He calmed down, wiping a tear from his eye, an easy smile on his face as he met Katsuki’s gaze again. “You still haven’t said why you’re here, your highness.” A flash of worry crossed his face. “Is something wrong?”

Katsuki’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “Don’t fucking call me that. And nothing’s wrong.” He then averted his gaze, chewing on his bottom lip. Should he tell him the truth? It would be stupid to, they only met five minutes ago. But something about him made Katsuki feel like he could trust him, somehow.

“I ran away,” he admitted quietly. He chanced a peek at the other boy; his eyes were wide, and his tiny eyebrows were so high on his forehead they almost disappeared into his hairline.

“You ran away…? But why? The king and queen are gonna be super worried about you, dude.”

Katsuki scoffed, rolling his eyes. “The hag never cared about me, all she cared about was making sure she had the perfect heir for when she and the old man kick the bucket, and fuck that. So I left.” He then shot the redhead a pointed glare. “And don’t you fucking dare try to convince me to go back, because it ain’t happening.”

“I won’t, promise!” he said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just pretty dangerous to travel out here alone. If you’re not going back, then where are you going?”

“First off, I can take care of myself, fuck you very much. Just because I was raised a prince doesn’t mean I’m a goddamn damsel,” Katsuki spat, ignoring the fact that the last week had been rougher than he’d expected, as well as his lack of hunting expertise. “Secondly, I’m leaving the kingdom. The sooner I cross the nearest border, the better.”

Shitty Hair hummed, nodding. He was silent for a long moment, seeming to be debating something with himself before he nodded again and looked back up at Katsuki. “Let me help.”

Katsuki looked at him in bewilderment. “The fuck? Why?”

Shitty Hair grinned broadly. “It’s more fun to travel with somebody!” His grin then turned teasing. “Plus, even if you can take care of yourself, you still need help. You did just try to pay thirty gold pieces for some of the cheapest cuts of meat here.”

“Tch. I would’ve figured that out eventually.”

“Yeah, but it would be cool to know all of that stuff ahead of time so you’re not almost caught again, right?”

Katsuki frowned, crossing his arms. The idiot had a good point. Still… “I don’t even know your name.”

The redhead stuck a hand out to him. “Kirishima Eijirou. And what should I call you since ‘your highness’ is off the table?”

“Bak-” he started before cutting himself off, a bad taste forming in his mouth. That would just be a sour reminder of the kingdom he was leaving behind. “...Katsuki.”  He grasped Kirishima’s outstretched hand. It was warm, the grip strong, and he could feel the callouses on his fingers scraping against the skin on the back of his hand.

“Katsuki,” Kirishima echoed, testing it out, and it caused a weird tingly feeling in his stomach. He’s been called Prince Katsuki thousands of times in the past by this point, but hearing Kirishima say it was different for some reason. The ever-present smile was back on the redhead’s face as he shook their joined hands. “I look forward to traveling with you!”

Katsuki grunted, pulling away, and he fixed his hood over his head as he headed back out of the alleyway. “You better not slow me down, Shitty Hair.”

That same bright laugh echoed from behind him. “Wouldn’t dream of it!”

~

Fic written for @krbkevents KRBK Month 2023 Day 5: Fantasy! Also on AO3!

[abbyrd]

omg hello hello !

could i please request a fluffy, kinda awkward but very cute, first kiss with mr george <3

fem or gn reader i dont mind!! :))

Love Letter ~ George Harrison x Reader

Request: omg hello hello!

could i please request a fluffy, kinda awkward but very cute, first kiss with mr george <3

fem or gn reader i don’t mind!! :))

A/N: Hello hello! I’ve been meaning to post something for like- a month. However, I had lost inspiration and kind of got burnt out for a bit, but now I’ve returned better than ever. Here’s a fluffy, kinda awkward, very cute first kiss for you <3 literally enjoyed writing this sm. I’m tryna get to more requests folks just to lyk ^_^ ALSO I went with teddy boy George for this

Word Count: 1,054 words!

Warnings: 1 curse word

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You huffed, balling up the piece of paper you were writing on as you got frustrated with how difficult making the contents sound just how you wanted them. You tossed it towards the bin and luckily it landed on the first try.

It was your second-to-last class of the day, which meant that you had to get the letter done by the end of this class, or before your next class. The reason for that was because George sat right next to you in that class. And why was that a problem?

You were writing him a love letter. You intended for it to tell all of your feelings for the pointy-toothed, guitar-playing, adorable boy. It sounded lovely in your head, but on the paper it sounded rather sappy and cheesy.

You tore out another sheet of paper from your notebook, and laid it in front of you on your desk. The dark grey point of your pencil drifted to the start of the first line, and you caught your bottom lip between your teeth, staring down at the paper as you thought of how to phrase your confession.

Suddenly, the chime of the school bell echoed through the classroom, signaling that class was over and it was time for the next. You panicked, quickly jotting down something and then stuffing it between the pages of your notebook.

You slung your bag over your shoulder, holding your notebook tightly to your chest as you walked to your next class. It wasn’t very far, so you made it there before the majority of the class. You took your seat and watched the door for a certain someone.

“George!” You exclaimed with a smile as he entered the classroom. He looked at you, eagerly coming over to sit beside you with a grin spread across his heavenly sculpted face.

“Hiya love. How’s ya day been?” He asked, resting his head against his palm, elbow propped up against the desk as he gazed over at you.

“My day has been quite well, thanks for asking. What about yours?” You replied, mirroring his actions almost subconsciously.

“About the same. I’m so ready to just go home and get done with the day.” He sighed, glancing up at the teacher. You nodded in response, your gaze falling upon the teacher once she began to talk.

Class went on as normal, boring, you can George glancing at each other occasionally. When the bell rang, you sighed in relief that the school day was over. You stood up, putting everything in your bag when something caught your eye.

A piece of paper sticking out of your notebook. You swallowed anxiously, and quickly pulled it out and sat it on George’s desk while he was putting away his stuff.

“Bye, George.” You muttered as you zipped up your bag and exited the classroom, almost hurriedly.

Meanwhile, George had just zipped up his bag, and he saw the note on the desk. He raised an eyebrow as he carefully picked it up and unfolded it.

“hey George,

meet me at the pond in the park!”

At the bottom were two letters, and he recognized them as your initials though they were so scribbled that they were almost incoherent. He folded it back up and put it in his pocket, and then left.

You were waiting at the pond for a while, watching the orange and white fish swim around, occasionally dipping your fingers into the cold water. You wondered if he was even coming, though you knew it was uncharacteristic of him to not show up.

When you heard the distant crunching of the dry brown leaves that had been scattered about the park ground since the middle of October, you knew that George was there. You turned your head to the sound, and there he was.

He slowed once he got to you and sat on the ground in front of you, looking at the beautiful pond.

“Hey George.” You said, trying to play cool, though your heart was racing in your chest. For a second you pondered your decision, but his lovely voice picked up your attention.

“Ello again. The pond is always so beautiful, ‘specially ‘round this time of year, don’t cha think?” He ran his fingers through the water, retracting them when one of the fish began to slowly approach, taking interest in them.

You hummed in affirmation and giggled a bit at the fish. You picked up a pebble, and shook it between your two hands before releasing it like a dice.

The silence was thick, and slightly awkward.

“So-“

“Who-“

You both spoke at the same time.

“You talk first-“

“You go ahead-“

Again, you both spoke in unison, which lead to more silence, afraid that if you spoke again that you’d interrupt the other. Eventually, the silence grew more uncomfortable, so you decided to break it.

“I like you, George.” You blurted out, looking anywhere but him.

“Well, I like you too.” He replied, a smile on his face. You glanced at him and realized that he didn’t catch on.

“I like you more than friends.” You explained, running your hands through the grass. More silence.

You felt a hand gently grab your face, pulling it up. You made eye contact with him mere seconds before he unexpectedly pressed his lips against yours. Stupidly, you froze. After a few seconds he pulled away, frantically scooting back, further away from you.

“Oh god, you were kidding, weren’t you? Oh fuck, I never catch onto jokes like that, ‘m so sorry.” He apologized, avoiding any and all eye contact.

You were sure your face was bright red at this point. The corners of your mouth curved up into a smile.

“I meant it, George.” You mumbled, almost too quiet for him to hear. He looked at you, his wide eyes scanning your facial expression to try to tell if you were actually kidding or not. Gradually, his eyes held less and less of the sheer panic he’d just been in.

You crawled closer to him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt to pull him closer.

“‘M very glad you feel the same ‘bout me.” You whispered against his lips before returning the previous kiss.

If his heart wasn’t pounding before then, it sure was pounding now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[harrison-abbott]

Hopper

My father wanted to take me fishing. I’d never been fishing before and he said it was important that I learn. He picked me up from mother’s house on the Saturday morning. Mother never wanted to speak to him so whenever he came I would run out to his jeep and get inside. He smiled at me. “Hey there Hopper,” he said, which was his nickname for me. He used to call me that a lot before the whole mad breakup thing with mother, and his use of it stuck with other people – when other folks would come around to the house. Anyway, he drove me out of down and down to the woods on the way to the river. He drank quick bolts of liquor from a flask. When I was a good I always wanted that silver flask for myself; and I didn’t really understand alcohol yet. Dad wasn’t such a bad drunkard (even though he ended up dying from it). I mean, he wasn’t mean or loud or anything unless it was way at the end of the night and he would go to sleep. And he would take me to the football games with the school; come and watch me play even though I wasn’t any good, and would cheer me on anyway. That day when we went fishing it was super hot – like it was the afternoon and not nine in the morning when we got out the jeep and took the equipment down to the river. He showed me how to fit up the rods with the nylon and it all seemed intricate but he did it real skilful. “Throwing takes a whole bunch of practise,” he said, and he lanced the string into the great seething river, “but for today we’ll just wait on the bankside. And there will be some chaps in the water for sure.” I sat next to him. It took a long time, but the wait was exhilarating. He’d told me to tell him when I got a shudder on the handles. And then I got one! And I squealed. Dad laughed. “Pull it in, Hopper! Wind it up!” I tried but it was like when I would get the ball on the field; I’d wait and wait and wait, imagining the ball coming to me and me doing great things with it: but when I actually got it, I realised imagination was far different from the brutality of sport. So I reeled the winder up … and it stuttered and jolted. And then stopped: and the force on the far end of the line had gone. “Oh. I think he got away …” I looked up at father to see what he would think from his expression, and because I couldn’t read it I said, “I’m sorry Dad.” He blinked and said, “Don’t apologise for things you shouldn’t be sorry for, Hopper.” And that line has remained with me ever since he said it to me when I was a six year old boy.

He caught a trout later that day. He yanked it out of the water and killed it swiftly with a rock to the head. I thought that was sublimed to witness because I’d never seen anything murdered before aside from in cartoons. “I will gut the fish now,” Dad said, “But I must warn you that it’s quite gory. So if you don’t want to see then you can look away, Hopper.” I replied that I wouldn’t watch and so I turned my head and instead listened as he worked with the knife, and it is crazy how small volumes can make gigantic ideas in your head: especially when you are a child. I lot it would take a long while but father was finished real quick. He threw the entrails into the river and what was left was the image of a fish as you’d see in a monger. Father had brought along a pan and some oil and he made a fire and got about cooking it. He drank some more of his liquor. I can’t remember if it was whisky or rum or gin that he drank in those days because I wasn’t knowable with any of the smells. He did smoke a lot of rolled cigarettes as well, and, as with most things he did, he was fast and deft with the way he rolled them. I really didn’t like the smoke. So he always stood up and walked ten paces away when he smoked and we would call back and forth from where he was. “Is it done yet, Dad?” meaning the fish meat as it sizzled in the pan. – “Give it a bit longer on the other side, Hopper.” I turned it over with the fork. When it was done he gave most of it for me and a little bit for himself and we ate. I wished it had been me that had caught it but I felt proud to be on the team all the same. After the food we sat by the fire for a while. And of course it was weird to have a fire on such a hot day, but I liked the colours of the embers. I knew it was getting to late afternoon and that mother always wanted me home by four o’clock. And this great sadness enveloped me. I wanted to stay with Dad. Or to have him come back home and live with us again. Eventually father put out the fire with river water and we went back to the keep and then he was driving me home. And I really, really wanted it to be like the old days when he was sleeping in the room next to me, instead of the other side of town. I’d wanted to ask him a question for a long time. A query that I’d wanted to do with mother for a while as well, but had never as yet had the guts. So I blurted it out there in the jeep. I said, “Dad. Why did you and Mum split up?” His face withered, every so slightly. And he swallowed. “She was with another man, Hopper.” I’d never known this and it was quite a barrel load to take. So I said, “Does that make you sad?” And he went, “Yeah. A lot. But, that’s for me to be sad. And not you. Okay? So don’t let it bother you. And, we can go fishing again next weekend. And I’ll see you on Wednesday night for the football game, right? We’ll be good.” I said I would see him, too. When father dropped me off home he never hugged me or kissed me; what he did was give me a handshake. And I always recall how his hand dwarfed mine with my tiny fingers and palm. Then I waved to him as his jeep whizzed off into the hazy road and it was as if, whilst the jeep got smaller and smaller, this enormous mass of pain grew larger and larger in my chest. And so because I couldn’t do anything about it I ran into the house and slapped the door shut and went into my room to concentrate on something else.

[whispsofkindness]

Giving Back

This is a wonderful true story. You will be glad that you read it, and I hope you will pass it on.

It happened every Friday evening, almost without fail, when the sun resembled a giant orange and was starting to dip into the blue ocean.

Old Ed came strolling along the beach to his favorite pier.

Clutched in his bony hand was a bucket of shrimp. Ed walks out to the end of the pier, where it seems he almost has the world to himself. The glow of the sun is a golden bronze now.

Everybody's gone, except for a few joggers on the beach. Standing out on the end of the pier, Ed is alone with his thoughts...and his bucket of shrimp.

Before long, however, he is no longer alone. Up in the sky a thousand white dots come screeching and squawking, winging their way toward that lanky frame standing there on the end of the pier.

Before long, dozens of seagulls have enveloped him, their wings fluttering and flapping wildly. Ed stands there tossing shrimp to the hungry birds. As he does, if you listen closely, you can hear him say with a smile, 'Thank you. Thank you.'

In a few short minutes the bucket is empty. But Ed doesn't leave. He stands there lost in thought, as though transported to another time and place .

When he finally turns around and begins to walk back toward the beach, a few of the birds hop along the pier with him until he gets to the stairs, and then they, too, fly away. And old Ed quietly makes his way down to the end of the beach and on home.

If you were sitting there on the pier with your fishing line in the water, Ed might seem like 'a funny old duck,' as my dad used to say. Or, to onlookers, he's just another old codger, lost in his own weird world, feeding the seagulls with a bucket full of shrimp.

To the onlooker, rituals can look either very strange or very empty. They can seem altogether unimportant .....maybe even a lot of nonsense.

Old folks often do strange things, at least in the eyes of Boomers and Millennials.

Most of them would probably write Old Ed off, down there in Florida ... That's too bad. They'd do well to know him better.

His full name: Eddie Rickenbacker. He was a famous hero in World War I, and then he was in WWII. On one of his flying missions across the Pacific, he and his seven-member crew went down. Miraculously, all of the men survived, crawled out of their plane, and climbed into a life raft.

Captain Rickenbacker and his crew floated for days on the rough waters of the Pacific. They fought the sun. They fought sharks. Most of all, they fought hunger and thirst. By the eighth day their rations ran out. No food. No water. They were hundreds of miles from land and no one knew where they were or even if they were alive.

Every day across America millions wondered and prayed that Eddie Rickenbacker might somehow be found alive.

The men adrift needed a miracle. That afternoon they had a simple devotional service and prayed for a miracle.

They tried to nap. Eddie leaned back and pulled his military cap over his nose. Time dragged on. All he could hear was the slap of the waves against the raft...suddenly Eddie felt something land on the top of his cap. It was a seagull!

Old Ed would later describe how he sat perfectly still, planning his next move. With a flash of his hand and a squawk from the gull, he managed to grab it and wring its neck. He tore the feathers off, and he and his starving crew made a meal of it - a very slight meal for eight men. Then they used the intestines for bait. With it, they caught fish, which gave them food and more bait....and the cycle continued. With that simple survival technique, they were able to endure the rigors of the sea until they were found and rescued after 24 days at sea.

Eddie Rickenbacker lived many years beyond that ordeal, but he never forgot the sacrifice of that first life-saving seagull... And he never stopped saying, 'Thank you.' That's why almost every Friday night he would walk to the end of the pier with a bucket full of shrimp and a heart full of gratitude.

Reference: (Max Lucado, "In The Eye of the Storm", pp...221, 225-226)

PS: Eddie Rickenbacker was the founder of Eastern Airlines. Before WWI he was race car driver. In WWI he was a pilot and became America's first ace. In WWII he was an instructor and military adviser, and he flew missions with the combat pilots. Eddie Rickenbacker is a true American hero. And now you know another story about the trials and sacrifices that brave men have endured for your freedom.

As you can see, I chose to pass this story along as it was passed to me from my father. It is a great story that many don't know...I think it exemplifies a couple of life's lessons to be remembered. You've got to be careful with old guys, you just never know what they have done during their lifetime. It also speaks to me about how we never know what we adversity we might face, but when we put our talent both mentally and physically together, we can overcome, but we must never forget what we learned and to remember to thank those that helped pull us through even if it was as something seemingly meaningless as a seagull and to pay it forward.

[12timetraveler]

Beware the Jabberwocky

Summary:

Arthur and Hosea go on a boys trip. But when Arthur picks the wrong mushrooms, they take a trip of a different kind

CW: Mushrooms, recreational drug use

Word count: 3936

Notes:

For my dear friend @hoematthews on his birthday. Based on a late-night conversation we had with some other friends. I hope you enjoy!

AO3

~~~~~~~~

"So what are we hunting exactly?" Arthur asked, realizing he really had no idea what they were doing out here.

Hosea had asked if Arthur wanted to go hunting, and after weeks of doing job after job after job, constantly working, he was ready for something different. Any sort of change of pace.

"Moose, didn't I say?" Hosea chuckled, looking over his shoulder at Arthur.

"Oh. So we're just pretending we're going hunting," Arthur chuckled. He and Hosea had gone after moose many times over the years, but never caught one. Arthur had only even seen a moose a handful of times in his life, and never when he was looking for one.

"Nonsense," Hosea huffed. "I've been watching this area for a while. It's a little lake, remote in the mountains. All the wildlife around drink from it. Including a number of moose. We'll catch one this time, you'll see."

"Whatever you say," Arthur huffed. He wouldn't horribly mind if they just wasted time. Hosea was probably his favorite person to waste time with. He always ended up with a story to tell, and came back to camp feeling refreshed. Just getting out of camp with the man, spending a few days watching the lake for the elusive megafauna, that was just fine with him.

~~~~~~

They reached the lake just before nightfall. No time for hunting that night, but just enough time for Hosea to catch a couple fish while Arthur set up camp. Since they'd be there a couple days, Arthur used the canvas of his travel tent to make a sort of lean-to between the trees in case it rained. But he set up their bedrolls around the fire.

He knew his old friend would want to lay out under the stars, weather permitting, and enjoy the view. He'd likely tell Arthur the same stories he always did, legends and myths that made up the constellations. Arthur didn't mind. It was nice to hear Hosea talk about simple things.

It reminded him of the old days when he'd wake up in the middle of the night from nightmares and go sit by the fire only for Hosea to join him and talk his ear off until the sun rose. Back when it was just the three of them, and he was nothing but a gangly little street urchin.

So much had changed, and yet he always found comfort in Hosea's voice. Most of the time nowadays Hosea was busy helping the others in the gang. He was good at talking folks through their troubles. But that meant he didn't have as much time for Arthur as he used to. Arthur didn't get many chances to just sit with him and listen to him talk anymore.

"A feast befitting kings," Hosea crowed, drawing Arthur out of his musing. He approached the makeshift camp holding a pair of sockeye, which he'd already bludgeoned and gutted.

"Nice catch," Arthur hummed, looking up at Hosea from where he sat by the fire. "Here. I can filet 'em,"

"You'll do no such thing," Hosea huffed, swinging the fish away from Arthur's reach before sitting down by the fire. "You'll lose us all the meat the way you butcher fish. I'll do it,"

"Whatever you say," Arthur sighed, but there was no malice behind his voice, only familiar affection.

Hosea was right, it was quite the feast. The fish were so savory and tender, even with the crude ways the men had of seasoning and cooking. When Arthur lay down on his bedroll he felt pleasantly full and sleepy.

Across the fire Hosea was also settling down on his bedroll, grunting and groaning dramatically as he settled in on his back, hands resting on his chest. It was quiet for a moment, just the crackle of the campfire and the sounds of night.

"Do you see those three stars lined up," Hosea started, pointing up at the sky. Arthur couldn't help but smile as his earlier prediction had been right. "That's Orion's belt,"

"Is it?" Arthur hummed tiredly. He knew all the constellations Hosea knew. He'd been shown them time and time again. He didn't even have to look for it, he knew right where it would be.

"Yep," Hosea chirped. "Goes right across the constellation. You can see Orion himself, just around it,"

"So I can," Arthur murmured, his eyes closing.

"And right there, do you see the big dipper? It's crystal clear tonight," Hosea murmured.

"Oh yeah," Arthur mumbled.

"You know, escaped slaves used to call it The Drinking Gourd. They used it to guide them north to freedom,"

"Well I'll... Be," Arthur sighed, barely even awake.

"The big dipper is also part of Ursa Major, the great bear..."

Hosea kept talking long after Arthur was snoring. He knew how Arthur liked to hear him ramble.

~~~~~~~

The next morning the hunt began. After a breakfast of bread and some pheasant eggs, they set out from camp along the lakeshore.

The lake was truly stunning. The surface was smooth and sparkling in the morning sun, disturbed only by ripples of fish catching a morning meal of mosquitoes. The image of the trees and mountains reflected off the surface of the lake like a giant mirror.

It didn't take Hosea long to find some large moose tracks. Unfortunately they headed directly into the water, so they couldn't be followed more than a couple yards. There was no sign of the moose on the other side of the lake.

Hosea led Arthur up a slope overlooking the water, and the two sat there for a while watching the wildlife visit the lake, hoping their large friend would stop by. Plenty of other animals came to the lake. Elk and deer, foxes and rabbits, even a pack of wolves drank across the way, but after hours of sitting and watching no moose came to drink.

Some time after noon Hosea sent Arthur down to the lakeshore with some potent herbivore bait, hoping to lure the moose down. It certainly drew in a number of ungulates, but never a moose.

Finally around mid afternoon they decided to circle the lake and look for tracks that might lead them to their quarry. But the only tracks they found were old, or too small for a moose.

Along the way Arthur gathered some plants on the shore. Mint and burdock root and some mushrooms that looked like parasol mushrooms. Arthur was always a little hesitant with mushrooms because he really didn't know what the dangerous ones looked like. But these looked enough like parasols that he was confident in picking them.

By the time they were almost back to their temporary camp, the sun was starting to dip low in the sky. Arthur had a bag full of plants and mushrooms, but no moose.

"Well, seems our friends have eluded us today," Arthur huffed, stretching his shoulders.

"For now," Hosea sighed. "I'll see if I can catch us a rabbit to eat,"

"Alright. I'll get the fire going again," Arthur said, clapping Hosea on the shoulder. He could tell the old man was a little disappointed, but not completely disheartened. Mostly he was just tired after circling the lake. Arthur knew letting him hunt dinner would boost his spirits some.

Arthur had the fire going strong by the time Hosea returned to camp with a rabbit, already skinned and gutted.

"Good catch," Arthur hummed. It had been a big rabbit, he could tell.

"Not bad," Hosea shrugged, passing the rabbit carcass to Arthur. "Any of those plants you picked today good with rabbit?"

"Mmm maybe," Arthur hummed, opening up his satchel. He looked through the bundles of herbs in his bag. "Could stuff the rabbit with some mushrooms and wild carrot to cook. And a couple spices," Arthur pulled out the plants.

"A rare feast," Hosea chuckled, sitting down and pulling out his knife. Arthur handed him the carrots and Hosea chopped them roughly with his knife while Arthur halved the mushrooms and stuffed them and the carrots into the rabbit before sticking it over the fire to roast. As rustic and thrown together as it was, it was fancier than the usual plate of stew.

Soon a nice aroma filled the air as the rabbit meat cooked at the carrots and mushrooms began roasting in what little fat the rabbit had.

Both Hosea and Arthur were feeling a little funny, but both assumed it was likely just from being out in the sun. Neither had made the connection between the funny feeling and when they started handling and cooking the mushrooms.

The fire cooked the rabbit quickly, and soon enough their supper was ready. Arthur carved the rabbit and dished some out onto Hosea's mess-kit plate before dishing some out onto his own.

After a long day of hunting, the men were ravenous, neither worrying much about talking or table manners. Before long they'd scarfed down the rabbit along with the mushrooms and carrots, and licked those plates clean.

"What kind of mushrooms were those, Arthur?" Hosea asked as he licked up the last crumb.

"Just parasol mushrooms," Arthur shrugged.

"Really? Didn't taste much like parasol mushrooms," Hosea hummed. "Must have been something to do with cooking them inside the rabbit,"

Hosea set his plate aside before flopping down on his bedroll with a contented sigh. Arthur followed suit, rolling into his back to look at the stars.

Arthur was starting to feel really funny, almost like he was drunk. But not quite the same. Not any kind of drunkenness he'd ever felt before. He felt floaty and spinny, like he was drifting through a dream, but he was sure he was awake.

The stars above him began to twinkle brighter, and the colors seemed to shift in a beautiful rainbow of colors. The stars rippled like scales on a fish across the sky. It was all Arthur could do to stare open mouthed at the light show above him.

"H-hosea?" Arthur mumbled dumbly. Hosea hummed in response. "The stars look different to you?"

Hosea had been drifting off to sleep, feeling thoroughly relaxed after dinner. He opened his eyes and frowned upat the sky. When had the sun risen? And why was the sky such a strange purple color? But... No, there were stars, and the moon out. But the world was much brighter than it had been a moment before.

"Now that you mention it..." Hosea grumbled, rolling into his side. The world seemed to zoom in and out as he did, before settling into something akin to focus. "W...woah. Arthur you... You've grown!"

Indeed the man laying across the firepit seemed to have grown at least three feet in length.

"I have?" Arthur grumbled, holding up his hands, looking for any sign of growth. Arthur pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking over at Hosea. His eyes widened comically as he took in the sigh of his friend.

"Y... You're a moose!" Arthur gasped.

Indeed before him, instead of his oldest friend, a man who was more father to him than his own blood, an anthropomorphic moose sat on Hosea's bedroll. He had sprouted ears and magnificent antlers. His nose had grown long and looked remarkably squishable. His body had sprouted fur and though he moved like a man, pushing himself to his hind legs and using his front legs as hands, he now had hooves.

"Am I?" Hosea asked, looking down at his hands. And as if by magic, Arthur was right. No longer did he have fingers and hands. Instead he saw two large cloven hooves. He looked back at Arthur, who only seemed to be growing bigger, but was somehow still looking up at him with comically wide eyes.

"What... Are we dreaming?" Arthur mumbled.

"I don't think so..." Hosea hummed, still staring at his hands. "But..." He couldn't help but giggle. "But I'm not sure what else could be happening,"

"Maybe a bear got us," Arthur huffed, starting to panic a little. "Maybe we got mauled to death. Is this heaven?"

"I doubt it," Hosea chuckled, walking over to his giant friend. He practically had to break his neck to look up at Arthur as the man stood up. Hosea settled one cloven hoof on Arthur's giant arm. "Don't worry so much, huh. What's that thing Javier says sometimes? Que sera? Just relax,"

Hosea had a sneaking suspicion of what was happening. He'd tried his fair share of substances. They were very popular among theater troops. He'd never had an experience quite like this, but he was sure it was something in that realm. But telling Arthur would only make him anxious, and he knew during experiences like this, anxiety and fear were not your friends.

The sound of a flock of ducks coming to land on the shore near the lake caught both of their attention. Moose and giant both turned to look at the water.

Hosea gasped as he saw the lake before them, sparkling under the purple sky. The water was a rippling rainbow of colors. Shades and hues Hosea had never seen before. Colors no human had ever witnessed, he was sure.

Arthur was focused on the ducks along the shore, frowning as they laughed at him. They teased him for being so strange, for his hair cut and the scruff of his beard. They mocked the way he could only walk, and couldn't fly like him. None of their words really upset him, or cut him deep. But had they been some barfly he'd likely have smashed their faces in. But fighting ducks just seemed unfair. They were too small. Especially with his new size.

"Come on Arthur, let's get a close look!" Hosea cheered, inexplicably grabbing Arthur's arm with his large hoof and dragging Arthur behind him toward the lake.

"At the ducks?" Arthur grumbled. He wasn't sure he wanted to get even closer to the mean old ducks.

"No at the lake! Look at it!" Hosea gasped, coming to a stop right at the shore.

Arthur blinked, not quite sure what Hosea saw in the water that had him so excited. But as he studied the waves he began to see it. Or at least he saw what he assumed Hosea was also seeing.

To Arthur the water seemed to be made of flower petals. Reds and yellows and whites and oranges all rippled in waves across the water, lapping at the shore in front of him. Arthur bent down and scooped some of the petals up in his hands. They seemed to trickle out between his fingers like water, something between a liquid and a solid.

"Remarkable," Arthur murmured, watching the petals ebb and flow before him.

"Let's go swimming,"

Arthur looked over to see moose Hosea shedding his clothes until he was just down to his drawers.

Hosea tossed his clothes on the shore, ready to leap into the lake of colors before him. He whooped as his feet splashed into the rainbow water. It was crisp, like mountain lake water should be, but something about the cold water seemed to warm him, like the rainbow of colors was filling him with light.

Once he was deep enough, Hosea dove into the water, letting the strands of color and light woosh over him. He was pleasantly surprised to find that even if he swirled the water, the colors never muddied. They just swirled together before pulling back into separate streams.

Hosea surfaced, gasping for air. "Come on in, dear giant boy," he called to Arthur at the shore. "The colors are incredible,"

Arthur shucked his clothes quickly, getting down to his drawers as well. He'd always loved the feeling of flower petals against his fingers. He couldn't wait to see what they felt like as he swam through them.

The water was cold, and the moment he was up to his hips Arthur felt his balls draw up inside him. But against gritted teeth he kept moving through the water. The petals swirled around him moving aside for him but hugging to his body as well.

"Isn't it incredible?" Hosea asked, laying on his back in the water and floating around him.

"It is. I've always wanted to swim among them," Arthur mumbled, still wondering at the petals around him.

"Me too," Hosea admitted, thinking of all the rainbows he'd seen in his life.

The two men spent some time just swimming around, lost in their own hallucinations. Time meant nothing to either of them. It may have been a half an hour, it could have been a week. In fact it seemed to be both combined.

"Ahh. Just listen to the musical sounds of nature," Hosea sighed.

Arthur paused, listening for what Hosea might be hearing. Slowly the ducks, the fireflies, the crickets and frogs and bats, all the creatures around the lake began singing a familiar tune.

<I>The ring dang do

Now what is that?

It's soft and round like a pussy cat

Got a hole in the middle and it's split in two

That's what they call the ring dang do</I>

"I didn't know they knew that song," Arthur mused.

"Of course they do, Arthur," Hosea chuckled loudly, slapping Arthur's bare back. "They wrote this song,"

Hosea of course was referring to the loud symphony of quacks and ribbits and chirps that seemed to drown out all other sounds. It was growing so loud in fact he couldn't even hear Arthur humming along to Ring Dang Do.

"We should go back to camp," Arthur said after a moment. The water was cold, and he wasn't entirely certain but he thought it may have snapped his balls off. He no longer could feel them between his legs.

"What?" Hosea called, as if talking over a great cacophony of sounds.

"Camp," Arthur yelled back, grabbing Hosea's hoof-hand and tugging him back to shore.

Arthur didn't bother trying to find their clothes. He was pretty sure he saw his shirt fly off with a couple of ducks when Hosea started yelling.

Back at camp, the two settled onto their bedrolls once more. Arthur not so subtly pulled at the hem of his drawers, checking to see if his balls had indeed frozen and fallen off. He breathed a sigh of relief when they still seemed to be there, though he swore for a second his scrotum blinked up at him, but he didn't want to think about that too hard.

"Is the sun rising or setting?" Hosea asked.

"Erm... I think it set a while ago," Arthur mumbled, not really trusting himself.

There was a big ball of light in the sky but he wasn't sure if it was the sun or the moon. Or maybe it was gods eye staring down at his miscreant children.

"The stars are still out so it must still be dark," Hosea mused. He easily located Orion's belt in the sky.

But... Wait, had Orion always worn a gun belt? Since when was Orion a gunslinger? Oh shit he was drawing his weapon.

Hosea quickly reached for his rifle next to his bedroll, aiming up at the sky. At the same moment Orion pulled his gun, and the two gunslingers fired.

Hosea wasn't sure where Orion's bullet landed. His own shot seemed to go just over Orion's shoulder. Like gentlemen they'd both shot over each other, neither wanting to take the other's life.

"A draw," Hosea called out, setting his rifle aside.

"Nice shot," Arthur hummed, looking at the new home in the sky that Hosea's bullet had ripped through. He obviously had not seen Orion draw his gun on Hosea, else he likely would have tried to tackle the constellation out of the sky.

"Thank you," Hosea said proudly, laying back on his elbows.

He sighed, staring up at the stars once more.

The two men lay there for a time, lost in their own hallucinations. Eventually they both drifted off to sleep, just before sunrise.

~~~~~~~

When Arthur woke up, the sun was high in the sky. Actually it seemed like it was already on its downward journey, on the western half of the sky. They'd slept through most of the day already.

Arthur took a moment to take stock. He was still in nothing but his drawers, and it was only the shade of the trees they were camped under that had saved him from a terrible sunburn, laying out in the sun all day.

Arthur looked over the smoking coals of their dead campfire. Hosea was curled up around his bedroll like a cat, knees tucked up under his chin. That could not be comfortable, especially on older joints. Carefully, not quite trusting his balance after the night he'd had, Arthur pushed himself to his knees and crawled over to Hosea.

Carefully Arthur guided Hosea to lay on his stomach instead, easing his muscles out. Hosea grumbled and groaned, stirring but not quite waking up. He weakly tried to swat Arthur away.

"Come on, let me sleep," he grumbled.

"Fine, but if you keep sleeping like that your back is gonna seize up," Arthur chuckled.

Slowly Hosea seemed to wake up, rolling into his back and blinking up at the bright sky.

"You know, Arthur," Hosea grunted as he pulled himself to his feet. "I don't think those were parasol mushrooms,"

"Really?" Arthur huffed, rolling his eyes. "What gave you that idea?"

"But you know what?" Hosea sighed, clapping Arthur on the shoulder. "I ain't felt that good in... I don't know how long," he chuckled.

"Yeah, I suppose," Arthur huffed a laugh. He had to admit, he hadn't slept so well in quite some time. True now he had a bit of a hangover. The sun was quite bright and he still felt sleepy. But he also felt relaxed and calm.

"Why don't we take a walk back around the lake to were you found those mushrooms. Take a closer look," Hosea hummed with a little gleam in his eye. Arthur recognized all to well the signs that Hosea was not-so-subtly trying to coax him into going along with something.

"What, you wanna do that again?" Arthur laughed.

"Why not?"

"Well I think it'll be pretty hard to hunt a moose when the trees are dancin',"

"Ah forget the moose," Hosea scoffed, waving his hand dismissively, smiling at Arthur. "You and I hardly ever get to just relax and have some fun. Let's just take a few days and... Let loose,"

"Whatever you say," Arthur shook his head. But Hosea could tell from his big grin that he was on the same page, just as ready as Hosea to have a good time.

~~~~~~~

"Well," Dutch called as the two rode into camp some days later. "You two sure took your time. Did you catch the moose?"

"No?" Hosea mumbled, uncertain. "No I don't... I don't think so,"

"You don't... Think so?"

"We got a little, er... Distracted," Arthur chuckled sheepishly.

"Distracted by what?" Dutch asked, looking between the two. Suddenly Dutch felt like he was faced with a young John and Arthur having just gotten back from doing something they shouldn't have been. "Don't tell me you two spent the entire trip drunk out of your minds," Dutch sighed.

"Er... Something like that," Hosea sighed.

"I did manage to find some mushrooms. You can have some if you want," Arthur mumbled, holding out a handful of the special mushrooms.

In sync Arthur and Hosea burst out laughing, nearly falling over with glee at Dutch's confused face.

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Rhys Darby: Patience key to marriage on warm Waikiki nights

Bikers and bit of snorkelling rekindle spirit of ageing love birds.

The wife and I recently celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary in Hawaii. I was already booked to do a show there so the timing was perfect. We decided to leave the kids behind with friends and go it alone, like two ageing love birds rekindling the spirit that connected us all those years ago.

Of course once we got there most of our conversations revolved around the kids. We tried to take our minds off them by sipping copious amounts of cocktails but that just made us miss them more. In the end there was only one thing for it, we had to set off on some island adventure ...

We hired scooters and took off down the main street of Waikiki. Unfortunately my scooter had an acceleration problem and Rosie slipped away leaving me stuck at the lights. Seconds later no less than 20 loud motorbikes pulled up beside me. They all had matching jackets so this led me to believe it was a fully-fledged biker gang. Either that or a massive coincidence. I was now in the middle of them and I looked pretty pathetic on my nifty fifty. I felt like I'd been engulfed, much like the US space capsule in the opening sequence of You Only Live Twice (that's a James Bond film). Anyway, as they were all staring at me I decided to make light conversation.

"Are you guys all in a gang ... or is this just a massive coincidence?"

"We're the Pacific Knights," said one of them while pointing with his thumb to the patch on the back of his jacket that I really couldn't see. I couldn't hear him well either over the loud rumbling and revving of the machines.

"What's that?" I replied.

"Pacific Knights," he came back with.

"Which nights exactly?" says I, "I'm keen to be involved but I'm only here for a limited time. When do you get together?"

"We're the Pacific Knights," was the response, this time from one of the other bikers.

"Yeah, but which nights? Is it Tuesdays and Thursdays? I bet it is. Look, I'm busy on Thursday guys ... The wife and I have planned a snorkelling trip."

Rhys Darby meet the 'Pacific Knights' at Waikiki Beach

Suddenly the lights changed and all the bikes took off. I slowly departed myself, not overly convinced but quietly hoping I'd been inducted into the gang.

Later that afternoon I caught up with Rosie, my wife of 10 years. We had a fantastic time snorkelling at Hanauma Bay. There at shallow depths were dozens of beautiful fish. We entered their world with an underwater camera. Between us we used up all 30 shots on the film. Yes that's right, it was a camera with a film. Weird, eh? It was a cheap one we picked up at a gas station. I look forward to one day getting that film developed. It mightn't be for another 10 years. Who knows ... but hey, that's the key to a successful marriage folks ... Patience. I think my wife has a lot of it.

Source: NZ Herald

[sseanettles]

nothing grows in corpses (in the earth of me)

dream x hob gadling | mature | Finally cross-posting my take on the fandom classic of the show progresses as the comics do, even to The Wake. Until Death resurrects Morpheus and forces the choice of "redemption" upon him instead of suicide. It goes...horribly. No good. Very bad. Instead of learning the lesson, Morpheus (in his infinite wisdom) opts instead for a highly effective existence strike until one day Hob Gadling stumbles upon his ghastly handiwork and immediately decides that this just won't do. Man Who Refuses To Die vs. Man Who Refuses To Live: fight.

Dead Dove, Do Not Eat for the following: graphic depictions of starvation, illness, suicidal ideation, self-harm, blood and gore, loss of autonomy, etc. etc. This is some classic old world whump, folks! But I promise it's also supremely healing in the end.

CH. 14: are you really okay? | 3.7 k | AO3 link | prev part | next part

(or: the one where Morpheus pushes his luck too far and reaches the end of the line.)

Now that he was eating, albeit hating himself for every blackmailed swallow and choking back bile after every meal, Morpheus’ healing progressed by leaps and bounds like traitorous clockwork. Sandy’s visits grew less and less frequent until they weren’t needed at all, which left them here at tonight’s dinner celebrating one week without supply runs of any kind from anyone. It was a relaxed thing of Indian takeout on fancy dishes and glasses that were kept heavily filled with wine while Constantine and Gadling competed amid the table’s lively talk and laughter to see who could down the most the fastest.

Morpheus sat largely in silence, allowing the stories the others shared to wash over him like a balm for his aching existence and answering questions when he was asked, and he picked at his food and drink as far as his shrunken gut allowed. But his addled mind was decidedly elsewhere, wandering about the room. And as Hob took another draught of his wine, he noted the bruised shadows beneath Morpheus’ eyes, the way his gaze unfocused and drifted about the room like a ship in a storm. Something had caught his Stranger’s mind beyond that numbness that still dulled his senses, and he had a sneaking suspicion from the way the man's eyes tracked empty air that it wasn’t something the rest of them could perceive.

“Friend,” he called, and Morpheus blinked at the sudden address, looking blearily toward him. “You alright?”

The fact that he seemed to actually ponder the question and did so for some time did not help Hob’s anxiety at all.

“Well enough,” he eventually answered and forced himself to resume eating with painstaking slowness.

The conversation which had died down to slightly strained quiet at Hob’s interruption picked up once more, and as Morpheus faded back into the periphery, he glanced out the corner of his eye to the bookcase.

Delirium climbed up the shelves with the sleeves of her oversized cardigan bunched up past her elbows and her bare feet stretched to tiptoes, and she peered at the holiday cards propped against the spines, mumbling the names aloud to herself in a sing-song voice that changed genre and volume depending on which name she read. Her fish swam about her head while the frogs leapt across the floor, and she looked back at him with mismatched eyes.

“Why don’t you have a card up here—ohhhh!” Her attention switched to the altar, and she leapt from the shelves to the floor with such enthusiasm that there should have been an almighty bang as she landed. Instead, she bounced as if off a balloon, and spun to a stop with her hands braced on the edges of the almost-ofrenda. She pointed to the sketch of him beside the memento chest and beamed. “There’s your card—”

Morpheus’ attention snapped back to the table, and he continued to eat at that measured, automated pace. Gadling’s eyes lingered on him still, and Morpheus lowered his hand to run his fingers along the gnarled scar Despair had dealt him. The feel of the broad strip of mangled skin, the ache that persisted deep inside him at the pressure, grounded him back in reality just in time to catch the tail end of Constantine’s question.

“—could always use the help. Once you’re less…fucked up, ‘course.” She gestured to him with a samosa and swallowed her mouthful of curry. “You interested?”

Morpheus’ mind raced, struggling through its fog to extrapolate what the rest of her offer had been.

“The danger I could attract to your work might outweigh the benefit,” he ultimately said and released a subtle breath of relief as it seemed he had guessed correctly.

“Fair enough. There’s probably loads of things out there that want to sink their teeth in you now that you’re back.”

“What?” Gwen asked, and Hob loudly cleared his throat, reaching for the closest bottle.

“More wine, anyone? Even if it is some value brand shit.”

“Fuck you,” Constantine snorted and held out her glass for a top-off with a tipsy grin.

Morpheus’ head spun with a sudden wave of vertigo, and he dug his hand once more into his scar as he continued to drift and daze.

He was…exhausted was not an adequate word. He had not slept in a week, a fact that he kept as hidden as he could from the people at this table, and he ground his teeth as Delirium’s incessant chatter filtered back into his world, filling his ears. The spin worsened; his vision seemed to pulse and then double, and Hob was on his feet in an instant as he nearly tipped off his chair and caught himself on the table in a dinnerware-rattling bang.

“Shit, is he drunk?” Constantine giggled, and Morpheus braced a hand to his throbbing forehead as Hob’s hands appeared at his elbows, his hips, helping him to his feet.

“Come on, mate. Let’s get you to the sofa, come on.”

Gadling’s balance was as steady as a tightrope walker, a testament to a long life of heavy revelry, and Morpheus leaned into him until he could reach for the couch and lower himself down. Gadling’s hand settled on his shoulder like an anchor as he sagged into his seat, both of them knowing full well that he was not going to be moving again for some time.

“You okay?”

Morpheus nodded, and he felt the world’s spin worsen at the move even beyond his tightly shut eyes. He grimaced and went as still as possible. “Only…dizzy.”

“Alright. Just rest. Let us know if you need anything.” Morpheus hummed his understanding but did not move save to press his hand a bit harder to his scar. Gadling noticed, and he was moving before he’d even finished talking, pressing his hand atop his and feeling for blood through the black of his shirt. “Shit, is it your—”

Morpheus caught his hand and opened his eyes on a slow exhale as the world spun at a slightly slower speed.

Delirium hopped from couch to coffee table to chair, playing the floor is lava with herself as she filled the hardwood with fish and bubbles.

“I am well, Gadling,” he promised and looked back to the table where the women waited. “Enjoy your time.”

Thankfully, the man did not press, and Morpheus watched him rejoin the others at the table before closing his eyes and letting his head tip back against the couch, willing every muscle in his body to relax.

And so he found himself in the same position nearly two hours later, with Gadling and Constantine on the sidewalk out front talking shop and sharing a smoke while Gwen fixed their drunken piling of dishes in the wash so that the door would actually shut. Morpheus watched her work, counting the utensils as she adjusted them, the plates, bowls, glasses. Anything to keep his mind functioning and his body running on less than fumes.

“I like her,” Delirium announced in his ear, sprawled like a cat along the top of the sofa with her arms and legs hanging all gangly down the sides. “She’s all kinds of people inside.” She let out a long, melodramatically pouting sigh and sat up. “I have to go now. I promised Barnabas I’d take him to get pretzels and watch the ice turn into fire, but you should talk to her and tell me what all the ones inside her have to say after, okay?” She landed a big kiss on the top of his head before he could process what she was doing, and she smiled bashfully as he looked up at her in confusion. She booped his nose with a single rainbow-nailed finger and kicked her feet with a giggle. “Be good! That’s what Barnabas always says to me, be good. I think I’m supposed to say that to him,” she added in a wry, put-upon kind of voice and hopped to the floor behind him. “But he says he’s already a good dog, so he doesn’t need the reminder—”

Her voice faded as she dropped through the floor into Mrs. Williams’ flat, and so the visit ended. Alone within his own mind once more, Morpheus resumed his vigil of Gwen in the kitchen, watching as she tidied her way back to sober and kept her back steadfastly to her room.

She’s all kinds of people inside.

Something gnawed at his insides as he watched her move, oozed along his gut and up his ribs like a mold. It left him feeling ill at ease within his own skin and made his bones itch. It left him wanting to run, confront, and hide all at once, and his tongue began to burn with the need to purge whatever this was.

He watched Gwen work and began to put names to emotion.

Be good.

He rose like an old man from the couch and limped on silent, swaying feet for the kitchen. She gave no sign that she noticed his approach or his arrival, just kept loading the machine, and he closed the last of the space between them as she picked up the final dish.

“Guinevere.”

The plate shattered across the floor as Gwen jumped a good several inches into the air.

“Jesus!” she yelped and pressed a hand to her chest as Morpheus took an awkward step back.

“I am sorry.”

“No, it’s…it’s fine.” She knelt and gathered the fragments with careful fingers, shooting him an uncertain glance as she did. “And it’s just Gwen,” she said. “Stop it with that Guinevere shit. The way you say it, I sound like I should be from Camelot.” She dumped the shards into the rubbish bin and shut the dishwasher in a bang, pressing a hand to her forehead as her heart continued to race. “What is it, Morpheus?”

Be good.

“I would like to apologize for my behavior these last two months,” he began, pacing his words so he could speak in a steady flow instead of the choppy cadence that had become his new normal. Gwen froze like a deer in headlights. “I have relied upon you especially in far too intimate a manner for two strangers. I have imposed on you and Gadling, and…” Even now, that kiss in the night burned his temple down to bone. “And I have pulled his attentions from you.”

Gwen’s stare had darkened from startled to carefully impassive. It made Morpheus’ skin crawl to face, and he shifted his weight in a sudden flash of uncertainty before forging on.

“You are a credit to your kind,” he said softly and subtly braced himself on the back of the stool nearest him as the pause in his exertion allowed his dizziness to once more mount. “And if more of humanity held your patience, your grace…your…compassion…” His knuckles paled; he was about to fall over. He needed to finish this. “The world would be better for it.”

“I, um. Th-thank you, Morpheus?” Gwen stammered after a time, flustered, and placed the island between them as she played at rearranging the items in the refrigerator door. “That’s…um...kind of you to say.”

“You are welcome,” he returned and made his careful, oblivious way back to the couch where he promptly resumed his battle against sleep.

Gwen watched him go and then rested her head against the refrigerator door with a vehemently silent what the fuck?

And when Robbie returned inside after another thirty minutes, she wasted no time in flagging his attention with a swatting towel. He caught the fringed edge and was about to ask what was wrong when she cut her hand across her throat and pointed to the bedroom door with a hissing whisper.

“Now.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked as she herded him into their room, shut the door behind them, and rounded on him with her hands on her hips. “Gwen—”

“Did you say anything to him about us having problems?”

“What?”

“I don’t want him knowing our business, Robbie!” she snapped, and Hob’s confusion only mounted by the syllable. “He’s already here twenty-four-seven—”

“Wh-no,” he protested and shook his head, moving to meet her across the room. He rubbed her arms as she crossed them over her chest. “No, Gwen, I’ve not told him anything. Did he say something to you?”

“Nothing bad, he just…” She shook her head, trying to wave off his concern and not quite managing it. “No, he didn’t say anything.” She regarded Hob carefully, studying every little twitch and shadow as she allowed him to take her hands and tug her arms free of each other. “You swear you didn’t talk to him about us?”

“Yes, I swear. That’s ours to know and handle,” he promised. He brushed his thumbs across her knuckles and squeezed in gentle comfort. “Look, Morpheus can be…perceptive. It’s unnerving if you don’t know to expect it,” he admitted. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She rolled her shoulders and slipped her hands once more from her partner’s. “ ‘M gonna go for a walk.”

Morpheus looked up from the sofa he had only just finished wrangling out to its expanded form as Gwen brushed from their bedroom. She avoided him entirely and pulled on her rain boots without a word before fetching her coat from the rack as she disappeared down the stairs for the front door. Hob followed her out almost a minute later, massaging his forehead and looking like he was finally beginning to feel his hangover.

“Is she alright?” Morpheus asked, looking between him and the door with a stab of guilt, but Hob only waved for him to relax.

“Yeah. Yeah, mate. Rest. Everything’s fine.” From the window, he watched as Constantine got back out of the cab she’d just hailed and met Gwen on the sidewalk. She appeared to ask her a few questions before linking their arms together and leading her down the street, side by side. “Jo’s got her.”

He glanced back to Morpheus just in time to see the man’s shirt ride up as he bent over to adjust the cushions and throw blankets. His sweatpants hung a bit loose around his hips that were still far too skeletal for Hob’s comfort, and the exposure meant he caught a plain view of the shiny scar and still-healing skin that stretched taut across his tailbone.

Morpheus froze as Gadling’s hand settled low on his stooped back.

“Can I check?” His fingers brushed a bit lower in question, touching skin, and Morpheus nodded his wordless assent as he straightened a bit and put some of his weight onto the back of the couch to relieve the strain on his ankles and knees.

Gadling’s hands were gentle along his back, adjusting his clothes until the worst of the wound bed was revealed. It was closing, but still there, a swath of him scooped away where the tissue had died, rotted, and regrown. It was nowhere near as deep or as vile as it had been. The bone was buried once more beneath healing flesh, and all that was left was pink skin and thin, fragile scabbing. His hip was even further along, and Hob smiled softly to himself at the sight.

He fixed Morpheus’ shirt and touched his back to let him know he was done.

“It’s looking really good, mate.”

“It feels improved,” his Stranger agreed as he turned and lowered himself into his makeshift bed. Hob for his turn leaned back, reclining on the arm of the chair.

“How about the rest of you?”

Morpheus gave him a look. “I believe you just said I was looking really good.”

“Oh no, I said it was looking really good,” he teased, but the brief spate of humor dimmed as Hob leaned forward and tapped his friend’s knee. “In all seriousness my friend, you seem…” He opted for diplomacy. “Very tired. Are you sleeping?”

His Stranger avoided his eyes.

“Some,” he said eventually.

“Every night?” he pushed. Morpheus’ silence was damning, and Hob sighed. He leaned back a little further against the chair. “Still having the nightmares, then?”

His Stranger picked at the simple bronze ring on his finger, a scavenged gift from Matthew on his most recent visit, and turned the metal round and round upon his thumb. “Not as frequently,” he murmured and could not meet Gadling’s eye.

“That’s good.” A lie from them both, it was, then. “You should still try to rest tonight.”

“Yes,” Morpheus agreed after a pause that was just a little too long. The ring continued to spin. “Goodnight, Gadling.”

Hob nodded—to himself, to his Stranger, to the universe at large—and headed for his room. “Goodnight, my friend.”

Hob went to bed, and he slept the sleep of the dead.

Gwen did not return until late, Constantine’s counsel heavy in her mind, and as she crossed the living room in silence for her bed, she spied a mass of black feathers fluffed up within the curl of Morpheus’ pale, boney arms. Matthew was tucked against his face, warmed by his sleeping breaths, and he still had a few locks of his master’s hair gripped in his beak and talons where he had fallen asleep mid-preen. It would have been endearing if the sight of them both did not fill Gwen with disquieted frustration.

She slipped into their room where Hob already slumbered, hugging his pillow close as he drifted in dreams both heady and dark. And after preparing for sleep, after cleaning her face and massaging her lotions and oils into her skin and wrapping her hair within the safe confines of her silks, she climbed into bed beside him and knocked out into some of the heaviest sleep she had had in a long time.

She dreamed of the garden and the lovely house in North Carolina filled with laughter and love and light.

Morpheus opened his eyes as the bedroom remained silent for some time, and he stared out the window, sleepless now for eight days, until the sun rose once more.

And the routine began anew.

o\\__oOoOoOo__//o

Morpheus continued to eat and, as such, continued to heal. And two months into this ghastly endeavor, his hair had grown back. His nails had stopped splitting. His scars were all faded, most had disappeared, and he now only looked a little too thin rather than fatally anorexic. But the circles beneath his eyes continued to darken, and his balance continued to sway as his attention span frayed like old thread as, still, he refused to sleep.

Being awake felt…better now. Awake, he was among something instead of nothing. Awake, he had Gadling and Guinevere to keep him company, had Matthew and Constantine when they were available. Friends were not something he’d had before—at least, not like this. They gave him a sense of movement, of personal evolution…and they helped him ignore the fact that despite all his supposed development at the hands of this newfound community, when he did sleep, the same nightmares awaited him. They helped him deny the truth he pretended not to see in the dim bathroom mirror in the early hours of the morning: that when he did sleep, he looked more ragged when he woke than when he’d gone to bed. He could listen to their lively conversation in silence and bask in the emotion of it like a lizard in the sun while pointedly avoiding the fact that more and more often he could not track their words for more than a couple sentences before it all turned to noise. He heard footsteps in the flat when he knew he was alone. Doors slammed but did not move on their hinges. He carried conversations with Gadling and Matthew, only to look to where they had been and find that, in truth, he had been alone for some time.

His youngest sister had not visited him in a while, and he was beginning to suspect it was because she’d begun to attend to him in function alone.

On his twenty-first day of sleeplessness, his longest stretch yet and nearly twice the human limit, he finally had to concede defeat. His delirium had gone so deep that he no longer saw his sister, no longer felt her influence or toying ministrations in hallucinations. He was only present, and frightfully so—stuck in an in-between of dissociated and hyperaware, one misstep from fainting on his feet at all times. He felt mad and utterly sane all at once. His hands shook so hard it was difficult to hold to anything smaller than a pillow. 

It was time.

While Gwen and Gadling enjoyed a rare evening out at the theater, Morpheus stumbled to bed early, opening the sofa and setting up his proverbial nest at a glacial pace that still left him winded by the end. The fire burned low, filling the room with a gentle, cozy sort of heat that held against the biting chill of one last cold snap before winter thawed to spring. This…this would be the night he caved to sleep, he knew: the night that the Dreaming sank its teeth into him and dragged him into its waiting depths. It was for the best that he slumbered early and weathered as many of the terrors as he could before his hosts returned. While Gadling responded to his cries and shouts with the grim patience of one who knew what he suffered, Morpheus knew it turned his stomach to witness it all the same. And Guinevere…he always knew when he had cried out in the night, because in the morning, she could never quite look him in the eye. Not that she could look him in the eye very often at all lately.

Even still, Morpheus tried his best to stay afloat once he had laid himself to rest. The room’s shadows lengthened as the embers darkened and cooled, and the warmth of the blankets drew him ever deeper. His eyelids drooped and snapped open and drooped again, sinking lower and opening less on each pass until, at last, he knew it had come: the final drift.

As his eyes slipped shut for the last time, his body already lost to sleep as his mind shuttered close behind, he saw Despair standing at the foot of his bed. He could not move. He could not speak. She just stood there, watching him with such sad eyes as the hearth finally died. And as his sight went black on her despondent face, she slowly, slowly shook her head.

o\\__oOoOoOo__//o

In the morning, Morpheus did not wake at all.

[theunpublishedwriter]

                 Not In My Loch

                              

     Salty McTaggert stood at the end of his short homemade pier,  with his arms folded across his chest, and stared out at the water. He shook his head slowly and cursed. He turned to his left and looked at his sailboat tied to the pier. Like the pier and the shack Salty lived in the boat was badly in need of repair. It was difficult to tell whether the sail had more patches than the boat.

     Another wasted morning fishing on the lake. Salty hadn't caught anything for weeks, and he was never more worried than he was now. The folks in the nearby village regularly traded goods for fish, but they stopped coming. The last time anyone stopped at his shack to inquire, he  told them to leave him alone. He had watched as they walked down  to the only other shack on the beach, the home of his hated albatross, his sworn enemy, his lifelong foe, Seymour Tallantine. It made Salty smile to watch the folks leave his despised neighbor with no fish. It would have killed him, so to speak, if Seymour did have fish, and then he would have had to kill Seymour.

     "What the devil!" he yelled and jumped back as a hand came out of the water to grab the edge of the dock. Another hand did the same, and then a head came above the water. "Tallantine!" Salty bellowed.

     The newcomer climbed onto the pier and stared at Salty. "McTaggert, " he replied.

     Salty clenched his fists but kept his arms at his side as he growled, "Get off my pier, ya blasted idiot. Do you  want to die today?"

     The two sun-bronzed elves stood staring at each other for long seconds. They were nearly identical in attitude as well as appearance.  Both were foul-mouthed, hard drinking old elves who loved to sail and fish. Both had skin that was dark and tough from the sun, and they needed haircuts and shaves desperately. They wore similar leather vests and shorts that had seen better days. Both went barefoot.

     "I almost died once today, you old sea turtle.  You don't scare me," Seymour said while continuing to stare at Salty. "And I know why there ain't no fish."

     Salty spit and smiled. He continued to clench his fists and sneered, "There ain't no fish because your stinky body scared them away. You need a boat to fish out there, stupid. Where is your boat now? Did it sink again?" He laughed until he coughed.

     While Salty laughed, Seymour continued to stare quietly at him . It was taking immense willpower not to punch the laughing elf in the face, but what he had to tell him was important to their livelihood. When the laughter was over, Seymour said, "It didn't sink. It was sunk. Sunk by the thing that's been eating all the fish. There's a giant snake or eel, something like that rammed my boat and sunk it. If somebody doesn't do something about that thing, there won't be any more fish for anyone."

     Salty started to laugh again. He clapped his hands and said, "If that ain't the stupidest thing I ever heard out of your mouth. A sea serpent sunk your boat!" Salty couldn't control his laughter and nearly fell over. Seymour watched him quietly, and it was killing him not to punch the fool. Salty rubbed the tears from his eyes and became serious. "Get off my pier while you still have legs to walk on."

     "Listen, you old fool. There's something out there that's eating the fish. We need to stop feuding long enough..."

     "Get off my pier, Tallantine! The only serpent around here is you, you snake." Salty spit on Tallantine's foot and glared at him.

     For a long tension filled moment, the two stood staring menacingly at each other. The slow lapping of the small waves against the pier was the only sound heard.

     "Idiot," Seymour said with a wave of his hand and pushed by Salty. "I'll find someone in the Village to help. Someone with a brain," he finished as he started up the beach in the direction of the Village.

     "You're the idiot, Tallantine," Salty yelled to no one because Seymour Tallantine was already out of sight. He turned back to stare at the lake. "Sea serpent," he laughed and shook his head.

     It was late the next morning when Salty returned without one single fish. He eased his rundown craft alongside the pier and cursed as bits of wood broke off from the pier as the boat slid along it. There was no wood for repair, and if the fish were gone, so was his livelihood. Salty jumped on the pier, careful to avoid the rotting planks that seemed to make up most of the wooden structure,  and tied the boat to the only post that was still stable.

     At the end of the pier, he stood with arms folded across his chest and stared at the lake. He couldn't understand why there were no fish. For decades, he had made a living with the bounty he was able to bring in daily.  No one except Salty and Seymour Tallantine went out on the lake to fish, so it couldn't be that all the fish had been caught. At one point, Salty thought that Tallantine had done something (he didn't know what that something was, but he was sure Tallantine did it), but that couldn't be because Tallantine wasn't getting any fish either. Salty didn't like to think if he didn't need to, and it made him angry to have to do it now.

     Fortunately for Salty, he didn't need to furrow his brows and concentrate as a voice called out from behind him, " Ahoy, Salty!"

     With an angry scowl on his face, he turned and shouted, "Who the devil is the smart-ass who needs his mouth shut! Oh no. I warned you, Tallantine." In a rage, Salty headed for the beach.

     "Hold on a moment, Salty, " said the one who had first called out. "Seymour said there's something in the water that's eating all the fish, and I believe him. We need....."

     "We hell,  Mirand," Salty said as he stepped off the pier and stared at the two who dared to interrupt him. "You might be some big deal in the Village,  but don't come out here with him," he pointed to Tallantine, "and think you're gonna tell me what to do. Now get off my beach."

     Mirand actually was a big deal in the Village.    He was young and handsome,  big for a fairy and a favorite of the mayor and her chief investigator. His love for adventure was well-known, as was his ability to talk folks into doing things they might not do otherwise. It was to Mirand that Seymour Tallantine had gone for help, and once the fairy heard it might be a sea serpent, he couldn't wait to help. "Just listen, Salty,  and if you don't like what I have to say, I'll leave."

     Salty glared again at Seymour, who hadn't said a word since he arrived. Mirand had practically begged him not to say a word. The feud between the two elves was well-known, and Mirand knew he was going to have his hands full, getting them to work together. Turning back to the fairy, Salty growled, "Soon as you say something stupid, I'm done listening." He put his hands on his hips and finished, "Say your piece, Mirand."

     "Let's start with what we know," Mirand began. There may or may not be a sea serpent, " Salty groaned and rolled his eyes while Seymour fought an urge to respond to his enemy, "but we do know something is happening out there. I talked with the mayor, and she agreed to fix your boat, Salty."

     "Wait a minute, " Salty said. "My boat don't need fixing. And I'm sure as hell not paying for it. We're done, fairy." He turned to go back on the pier.

     "They're gonna fix it for free, you moron," Seymour called out.

     Salty spun back around and looked at Seymour.  "Free?"

     Mirand smiled and answered, "Yes. We need fish.  The only people who can get fish are the two of you. Seymour lost his boat, and we don't have the time to build him a new one. But we can fix yours."

     "I heard the word free," Salty said with a smile as he rubbed his hands together.

     Mirand sighed. "The mayor said we need to get this problem solved and that I should do whatever it takes to end it. To that end...."

     "Is it free or not?!"

     "Yes, yes, it's free, but only because we need a vessel worthy of whatever we're going to encounter.  And," Mirand paused, "There can be no fighting between you two until we end this problem."

     "No!" Salty shouted and started waving his arms and stamping his feet. "That swine is not going on my boat. He's worse than a damn albatross. I won't have it."

     Before Mirand could respond, a voice called out from behind him, "Hey there, Mirand! You ready for us?" Coming down the beach was a group of dwarves, led by Gimble, the chief architect and carpenter of the Village. Two of the dwarves were pulling a wooden cart full of wood and canvas. "Let's get boat fixing," Gimble said with a smile as he joined Mirand.

     Turning to Salty, Mirand asked, "Well? Are we doing this?"

     Salty looked from Mirand to Gimble to the cart full of supplies.  Then he looked at Seymour Tallantine. "Am I in charge?" He quietly asked Mirand.

     "No one is in charge, Salty.  This will be a team effort. Well?"

     "I'm in," Salty answered.

     The moment Salty agreed, Gimble and the others went to work. "We need to fix this pier first," Gimble ordered as he put his crew to work. "Get busy, lads, and I'll see what needs doin' on the boat." The burly dwarf carefully made his way along the loose and rotting planks of the pier. Within moments sounds of sawing, hammering, and a lot of cursing filled the air.

     "We need to make a plan," Mirand said to the two elves who had been watching the rapid progress the dwarves were making. "Gimble assures me he will have that boat ready by morning. Seymour, what did you see?"

     Seymour scowled and said, "I already told you. Can't you remember?"

     "Tell me again because I want Salty to listen and," Salty opened his mouth to say something, but Mirand raised his hand, "not say a word," Mirand finished.

     Seymour Tallantine rubbed his chin, his fingers tangling in his beard and making him curse as he pulled them free. "Didn't really see much. Mostly a shadow until it rammed my boat. Might have been fifteen, twenty feet long, and maybe four feet around."

     "That's some nonsense," Salty laughed and pointed at the other elf. "I been sailing this lake for decades, and I ain't never seen anything like that. I know somethin' is wrong, and I want it to stop. I'm gonna help, but don't expect me to believe there's a sea serpent. Not in my loch. Make your plans without me. If my boat is ready, we leave at first light." Salty McTaggert pushed past the two and went into his shack.

     "Told ya he was gonna be stubborn about it,"  Seymour said as he turned back to watch the dwarves work.

     "At least he's with us, Seymour. And you did great by not fighting with him," Mirand responded as he too watched the workers quickly rebuilding the pier under Gimble's curse-filled directions. "The two of us can try to come up with something. Whatever we plan, we can explain it to him tomorrow. "  With hammering, sawing, sometimes singing, but always cursing the dwarves carried on their work while Mirand and Seymour Tallantine planned for the next day

     It was still dark the next morning when Salty stepped onto his rebuilt pier. He walked its length a number of times, stopping here and there to squat down and inspect the wood. The dwarves had done an incredible job, and the pier had never looked this good. The old elf couldn't help but smile.

     Light was just beginning to show on the horizon as Salty went to check his boat. Without realizing it was happening, Salty's smile became so large it nearly hurt. The small sailboat looked new, and there was a huge canvas sail in place just waiting to be raised. With a laugh, he jumped into the boat and inspected everything, laughing and clapping his hands. It had been a very long time since he had been happy, so happy that he forgot to curse.

     His happiness evaporated as a voice called out, "Morning, Salty. Looks like a fine morning to sail." Mirand stood on the pier and smiled. Behind him stood Seymour holding a number of thin poles.

     Salty cursed and leaned over the boat to spit. "What would you know about a fine morning to sail, landlubber?" Before Mirand could answer, Salty looked at Seymour and said, "What the devil are you holdin',Tallantine?"

     "Spears. So we can kill the damn thing and get back to fishing." He dropped the bundle of spears that Gimble had made during the night and stepped onto the boat, followed by Mirand.

     Salty released the ropes from the new pilings and with a large oar he pushed off from the pier. "Get that sail up, Tallantine!" he barked.

     "Don't tell me what to do, walrus breath. I know how to sail a damn boat," Tallantine bellowed.

     "If you knew how to sail a damn boat, then why did yours sink?"

     "I told you why, you miserable dog! There's a damn sea serpent. "

     "Yer daft, Tallantine.  Touched in the head is what you are."

     "Yer gonna be touched when this is over, McTaggert."

     The bickering continued for hours as the boat traversed the lake, a warm breeze filling the sail.

Mirand sat in the middle of the boat after giving up on trying to get his companions to stop arguing. This was his first time on the lake and his first time ever in a boat. It was fine in the beginning, but as the wind increased, so did the waves, and Mirand thought more than once that he should have stayed behind.

     Seymour noticed the look on the fairy's face and laughed. He shouted something to Salty, who looked at Mirand, and both elves broke into laughter. "He's gonna puke," Salty laughed.

     "I heard he likes adventure. He won't forget this one. Look! He's gettin' sick," Seymour pointed. The two elves laughed together for a minute before the bickering began again. Mirand barely heard the laughter as le leaned over the boat and gave up his breakfast.

     It was at that moment that a green and blue scaled massive head rose above the water inches from Mirand. "Shit shit shit!" Mirand exclaimed as he scrambled backward.

     "There's the fekkin' beastie!" Seymour shouted as he ran to grab a spear, with Salty behind him. Two huge yellow eyes watched the activity on the boat, and just as both elves threw their spears in unison, the head disappeared beneath the water. A second later, the boat heaved upward as the serpent went under it. "Well, McTaggert?" Seymour said.

     Salty looked at the other elf and shook his head but said nothing. Not even a curse.

     Mirand, completely over being seasick thanks to the serpent asked, "Will it come back?"

     "Don't know," Seymour answered. "The beastie rammed me, and then it was gone. Just glad the damn thing didn't eat me."

     "Grab a spear. Here comes your answer, fairy," Salty said and pointed off to the right. Something large and fast was churning through the water in their direction. Three very sharp and pointed spears flew from the boat. Two bounced off the scaly hide, but one hit the serpent in its eye and stayed there. Enraged by pain and partially blinded, the creature continued toward them, it's course altered enough by its poor vision that it rammed the boat in the rear instead of the center. The impact rocked the boat and spun it around, knocking the three off their feet.

     "The boat held!" Salty shouted.

     "Gimble used dwarf wood. He said it can withstand a battering ram. I'm sure...." The boat heaved again before Mirand could finish his sentence. Once again, the massive head rose above the boat, water pouring from its body as it rose high above the small craft. The head lunged toward the three, and they scrambled to avoid the long tongue that lashed out. Mirand rolled and grabbed a spear. When the tongue darted his way, he stabbed it with the spear. With a terrifying roar the creature dove under the water, a large wave splashed onto the boat, soaking the trio. "Where did it go?" he yelled as he stood up

     Both elves frantically looked around, and Seymour shouted, "Starboard! Here it comes!" He pointed to the right, and the three watched as the serpent sped toward them and then seemed to leap out of the water. Its momentum took it into the sail, and the pole snapped off, taking sail, pole, and beast into the water. The impact knocked the trio off their feet, and the boat rocked madly for long seconds.

     "Hope that bump hurt the beastie," Salty mumbled as he stood and picked up a spear. The others followed his lead and armed themselves. "Where the devil is it now?"

     The question was immediately answered as they felt the serpent hit the boat from under it. The boat rocked hard again, and then the front began to rise out of the water. "Hold on. It's trying to capsize us," Seymour shouted. Holding on was impossible as the serpent rose up with the boat on its back. It rose high enough for the small boat to fall back into the water upside down, the three passengers falling into the lake and disappearing.

     Salty was the first to appear, and he swam for the overturned boat and scrambled onto the hull. A second later, Seymour appeared pulling Mirand like a rag doll. "Dumbass can't swim," he said to Salty as he tried getting Mirand up onto the boat. "Want to give me a hand, McTaggert?"

     "Something's gonna die here today, " Salty scowled as he pulled the half-conscious fairy while Seymour pushed. "That beastie or us," he finished and looked at Mirand.

     "For once in your life you're right, McTaggert, " Seymour agreed as he remained in the water still holding the edge of the boat. "Sure don't look so good right...."  Salty was cut off as a long tongue wrapped around his leg and began pulling him. "McTaggert!" he screamed as he was pulled under the water.

     Without a thought, Salty grabbed the spear and dove after his companion. He could see Seymour struggling as he tried to reach the tongue to free himself. Without a weapon, all he could do was hit it with his fists, to no effect.  How the hell long is that tongue, Salty thought as he pushed himself faster.

     Not fifteen feet away, the serpent waited, its massive mouth open and waiting for the meal trapped by its tongue. The spear had remained fixed in its eye this entire time, and it gave Seymour a do or die idea. He stopped resisting and instead turned his body and began swimming toward the serpent. Salty thought the other elf had gone mad and had no idea what he was doing, but he too headed for the serpent.

     With powerful strokes, Salty came directly toward the mouth while Salty came at it from the side. Just before he would enter the huge mouth, Salty shot up and grabbed the end of the spear. With his remaining strength, he plunged the spear into the beast's brain. At that same instant, Salty came from the side and drove his spear into the beast's other eye. The serpent died instantly as the two spears went deep into its small brain.

     Hours later found the trio slowly heading home. There was only one long oar, the boat was still upside down, and they were exhausted. "Since I saved everything, my boat gets fixed again, right, Mirand?"

     "You saved everything?" Seymour sneered.

     "Killed the beastie, didn't i?" Salty snapped.

     "You? I killed the fekkin thing, you pile of unicorn dung!"

     "In yer dreams, ya daft bastard!"

     "Soon as we land, I'll show you who's daft!"

     "Any time, fool!"

     And so it went for the remainder of the trip, with Mirand vowing to himself to never again go anywhere with this pair of loons.