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random-thought-depository · 1 year ago

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A TV channel in my area plays Star Trek TOS episodes on Saturday night, last week's episode was the one about how the writers were scared of hippies lol.

Anyway, in the episode they go the anvilicious route of making all the plants on that planet incredibly poisonous (and the hippies I guess too technophobic to wave a tricorder over a bush before deciding they want to settle there), but before they found out about that there was a line about the planet having no animals and, wait, even if the biochemistries were compatible, wouldn't a planet with no animals logically be pretty difficult for humans to survive on, especially if the humans are going to go full anprim and live as gatherers?

Obviously getting enough protein might be a problem. And I think there's some vitamin you can only get from animals? You only need tiny amounts of it IIRC, small enough that preindustrial vegetarian Jains were able to get enough from insect contamination in their food, but on a planet with no animals at all that would be a huge problem!

But also, no animals would logically mean no fruit, right? Fruit exist to entice animals to move a plant's seeds around for it. If there's no animals, there's no reason for plants to expend energy on growing them. Plants on a planet with no animals would probably mostly propagate by wind-blown seeds, and have seeds similar to dandelion fluff, small and very light to easily disperse in the wind.

That basically leaves tubers. Which probably would exist; they might be even more useful on a planet where there are no animals to plunder such rich stores of energy (though I guess there'd probably be parasitic fungi and stuff evolved to exploit them). On the other hand, on a planet with no browsers or grazers the main selection pressures driving the evolution of tubers would be winter, drought, and fire, so if "Eden" has a nice climate it might not have a lot of tubers either.

I don't think it'd look nice and pretty and park-like like the planet in the episode either. For one thing, I think, just like it has no fruit, it'd have no flowers except things similar to dandelion puffs; there'd be nothing to pollinate them. With no animals with eyes, there'd be no reason for plants to evolve parts with dramatic color contrast. Its vegetation would be rather visually monotonous, mostly greens and browns. But also, and more importantly in terms of its potential (or lack of thereof) for human habitation, that kind of lush but open park-like landscape is what you get when vegetation is being regularly pruned back by people or animals or fire or some combination of those things. I think a planet with no animals would have very different vegetation growth patterns, more like...

In areas dry enough for burning seasons, I think you might get a fire-adapted ecology where fire does some of what grazers and browsers do on Earth. With no grazers and browsers and the main selection pressure being competition between plants, you'd get a dense tangled profusion of growth and lots of slowly decomposing dead plant material (cause there's no animals to help break it down or prune the leaves before they get a chance to die and fall off, just bacteria and fungi). It'd probably be rather difficult for a human to walk through, a forest choked with a dense profusion of undergrowth and dead stuff; at least there are no thorns, and nothing like poison oak; with no animals there's no selection pressure for thorns or poison. In dry parts of the year, this accumulation of living and dead plant material becomes a tinderbox for wildfires. If a planet like this looks idyllic from orbit, it's cause you arrived in mid-spring/mid-autumn; come in summer/winter, when dry seasons are in full swing, and you would see huge wildfires and skies stained with smoke. The oldest and biggest trees are tough enough to usually survive the burning, but the undergrowth is cleared. After the burn, seeds sprout and saplings grow quickly, competing to take advantage of the cleared ground, quickly filling the forest back up with a tangled profusion of growth and an increasing accumulation of slowly rotting dead material, completing the cycle.

On the other hand, on the same planet, in the places with lots of rain and conditions favorable to evergreen plants, there might be forests of enormous trees with forest floors that are pretty open but rather dark, barren, and muddy, with most light being blocked by a dense cathedral-like canopy far above. They'd smell of mud and rot, as the forest floor has accumulated large amounts of slowly decomposing leaf litter fallen from the canopy far above and has a mostly decomposer-based ecology of fungi and bacteria that slowly feeds on that. This is an ecosystem of trees and rot, and the trees make no fruit, they reproduce by seeds like dandelion fluff, small and very light to float on the wind, and they don't even produce much of that; they live a very long time and reproduce very slowly, partially because they're Cronuses; their dense canopy starves their own offspring of light along with everything else. For all the green lushness of their canopies these forests are low-energy ecosystems, conservative ecosystems, defined by the almost total victory of ancient, mighty incumbents; these are the Cronus forests, the lands of the Cronus trees.

There's very little energy available to humans in these Cronus woods. Some edible mushrooms, maybe; that'd be about it. Very possibly humans simply could not survive here, except perhaps in tiny numbers and by living in almost hermit-like isolation and dispersal. The Cronus forests might be almost as hostile as the Sahara or Antarctica, a place where the likely fate of some unfortunate stranded human explorer would be to die of hunger lying on the roots of some sequoia-size Cronus tree that was ancient when Julius Caesar marched into Gaul, staring up into cathedral-like dense green canopy through which only a dim twilight illumination filters even at mid-day, their nose filled with the reek of mud and rot.

Humans might try to terraform the Cronus forests by opening them, but I think that might be quite difficult for low-tech humans. The obvious efficient strategy for attacking the Cronus trees would be to set fire to them, but fire would be one of the primary natural threats to the Cronus trees, and a strong selection pressure on them, so I expect them to be well-adapted to resist it, with fire-retardant chemicals in their bark, wood, sap, and leaves so they resist ignition, and with their sheer size protecting them. The floors of the Cronus woods would receive almost no direct sunlight and therefore be cool and probably damp, and they would have very little undergrowth; fire would probably not spread easily through such an environment. It might be more effective to set torch to the canopies, but they would be dozens or maybe even hundreds of meters above the ground; quite a climb, on a tree that's probably more-or-less a branchless trunk much of the way up, and you've got to climb back down after setting the tree on fire.

That leaves tediously timbering them one by one. With, say, Medieval technology, this might work! The Cronus trees look mighty and their rule assured, but they are actually quite vulnerable. They are slow. Their defenses are purely passive. They literally could not make a single motion to defend themselves as an enemy attacked them with steel saws and axes. And they reproduce very slowly; if they could be timbered efficiently, it would be easy to destroy them faster than they reproduce. An enemy that can think and move is an outside context problem for them, something that never existed in their environment and therefore something they are totally unprepared for. Humans with steel saws and axes might be very efficient killers of these ancient titans.

But steel axes are pretty high-tech if you think agriculture was a mistake. Without metal tools? Imagine trying to bring down a giant sequoia without metal tools, so the axe is something delicate like obsidian or bone, or it has to be very tediously ground to a blade, or you're basically trying to bring the (big and structurally strong!) tree down by bashing it to a pulp, and big saws are probably impossible. Now imagine having to do that over and over again. Imagine trying to clear a forest that stretches from horizon to horizon that way.

If very low-tech humans can inhabit the Cronus forests at all, I think it might be as, like, highly dispersed small families who move around constantly and rarely meet each other, living on the occasional patch of edible mushrooms or other tid-bit, cause there just isn't enough energy to support anything denser. And even then, they might have to stick to the edge, where other ecozones are accessible, cause, like, would mushrooms even have all the nutrients you need?

I mean, I guess there would be some kind of open woodland areas? I think a planet with no animals would have more forest than a more Earth-like planet with the same climate, cause you've removed a major inhibition on plant growth. Think of how places like highland Scotland used to be forested, but when humans with livestock were added to the mix it became more-or-less an open grassland landscape. I think you'd see a similar effect comparing Plantworld to a version of the same planet that had animals; places that would be marginally viable forest without browsers would be grassland or open woodland with them. But a planet with no animals is probably going to have areas wet enough for plants but too dry for forests, so it'll probably have some grassland equivalents. But...

... Grass in natural prairies often gets pretty tall, doesn't it? And that's with grazers. A grass-equivalent that evolved on a world without grazers would be more selected by competition against other plants. I think no selection by grazing but more selection by competition against other plants might favor more investment in individual stalks. And instead of looking like our grass, these plants would have a cluster of little branches and leaves at the top, for better light interception - and to shade and thus inhibit the growth of any rivals growing near their base!

So, maybe... The experience of walking in a grassland in no animals world is very different from walking through a lawn or even the kind of knee-high or less wild grass I see around the Bay Area. The grass is tall. It's taller than you. The stalks are thick too; finger-thick and hollow; it's more like a forest of young bamboo. It feels more like walking in a cornfield. And it's surprisingly dark. Each stalk has a little crown of small branches and leaves, and together they make a surprisingly dense canopy not far above your head. The effect is claustrophobic and eerie. It has a vibe a little like the Cronus woods. And that's not an accident; these plants are essentially much smaller versions of the Cronus trees; tighter constraints, similar strategy. This place replicates the Cronus woods in miniature. This is the Cronus prairie, the land of the Cronus grass.

This probably doesn't sound like a place you'd like. If it's any consolation, if the Cronus grasses had minds they probably wouldn't like you either. Unlike the Cronus trees, the Cronus grass is small and vulnerable enough to experience you, fast-moving muscles-having thing, as the outside context problem you are on its world. You move through the Cronus grass and break a stalk. What a calamity to that plant! All the energy and resources it poured into building that stalk, all that work, the work of its life, undone in an instant! Now it has no crown to drink the sun, and its luckier neighboring competitors will close over it, and it will die without ever having a chance to scatter its gossamer seeds on the wind. Or maybe it's a different, longer-lived sort of Cronus grass (Cronus grass and Cronus tree aren't species, they're strategies and niches), and in the soil below the base of the stalk, where the long-lived part of the plant lives, there is a tuber, from which it can pull stored energy to regenerate the stalk, but this only prolongs the failure cycle; that energy was supposed to be used to regenerate the stalk after the Cronus prairie burns in the dry season and is reduced to a horizon-to-horizon smoldering plain of bare earth and ash; now its energy stores will be depleted when the fire comes, and afterward it will not be able to keep pace with the growth and regeneration of its neighbors and rivals, and they will close over it and it will die.

Those tubers make the Cronus prairie the best place on this planet for humans to live. Some of the Cronus grasses are annuals and live only one year, dying in the fires of the dry season and leaving only seeds to continue their lineage, but many are long-lived, with root systems that survive the fires, and these all have tubers that store energy to regenerate their stalk after the burn. In the competitive scramble after the burn the advantage offered by such a pre-existing storehouse of caloric wealth is huge, and these plants evolved in the absence of any animals that might raid them. Think of the Cronus prairie as a vast field of turnips and potatoes, with multiple edible plants in every square foot of soil, stretching from horizon to horizon. Here, at last, is something like the promise of Eden; food provided abundantly by nature with no need to work the soil, simply waiting to be dug up, available in such quantity that there would be little motivation for hard toil or war. That is, if you don't mind a monotonous diet of bland and nutrient-poor tubers, every day, every year, almost every meal, from the day you are weaned to the day you die. Low-tech human inhabitants of the Cronus prairie would have plenty of calories, but getting enough protein and other nutrients to stay alive and healthy might be a very hard struggle for them, and they might often suffer from malnutrition.

The abundance of the Cronus prairie would also be fragile. The tuber-growing Cronus grasses are long-lived and reproduce slowly, and digging up the tuber would probably destroy one. All the defenses they use to protect their precious hordes of carbohydrates are against enemies as slow as themselves, bacteria and fungi and specialized "vampire plants" without chlorophyll; they are not evolved to deal with raiders with muscles and eyes who can simply physically dig up the tubers. It would be quite easy for humans to slip into harvesting them faster than they reproduce.

Imagine what life might be like for a low-tech inhabitant of the Cronus prairie, a few hundred or a few thousand years after establishment.

Your staple food is something like turnip soup (the stalks of the Cronus grass furnish the fuel for cooking). No animals in your world have yet developed the ability to breathe on land, but there are things a little like insects you can find in creeks and rivers; they are enough to supply your people with the nutrients you absolutely must get from animals. Your people wean your babies late, because mother's milk is one of the precious few foods available to you that is not Cronus grass tubers and is much more nourishing. You've learned to feed your children small amounts of human feces to establish the gut microbiomes they need to process food. Finding enough food that isn't Cronus grass tubers to get all the nutrients you need is a struggle, but you know if you eat only Cronus grass tubers you will get sick and die slowly. In fact, your people are chronically malnourished and chronically ill, but you live long and most of your children grow up anyway, because your world has few bacteria and viruses capable of infecting humans, so your immune systems don't have to be very strong. In a desperate measure to increase protein consumption, your people have incorporated cannibalism of the deceased into your funeral rituals (your people view the practice as loving and reverential and normal, not desperate; it is done only to people who have already died of natural causes and allows their flesh to still be part of the tribe while their bones are shallowly buried to nourish the Cronus grass). Water bugs and human flesh are the only meats you've ever tasted. It is the beginning of the dry season, and the sky is stained with high-altitude smoke from the vast wildfires already burning hundreds of kilometers to the north. Soon your people must move northwest to the island of barren rock that rises from the Cronus prairie or southwest to the Cronus woods; there is little food in those places, but the fire stops at their boundaries, and to be caught out in the Cronus prairie when the fire walks across it is death.

You know, if you're going with "hippies have an overly romanticized view of nature and therefore don't deal with it well," I think I'd kind of prefer this. Just making the plants on "Eden" super-poisonous is just kind of an arbitrary fuck you, but... "Planet with no animals and sufficient abundance that you can survive as a gatherer without much effort" is totally something I could see as a hippie fantasy; no need for hard toil or alienating technology, little temptation toward war, no dangerous animals that might hurt you, and no temptation toward carnivory. But it's an ecologically incoherent fantasy! You are also an animal! A world with no place for animals has no place for you! It will probably not be an easy world for you to survive on! Of course, it'd be difficult to portray this in a one hour TV episode; would probably work a lot better with a novel.

Also, you could flip this around: if you think about it, it's actually really weird that a planet with no animals has fruit (even super-poisonous fruit). Maybe it's not a natural wilderness. Maybe it's somebody's food forest.

Suggestion: "Eden" is actually a heavily gardened world maintained by one of those state-repelling cultures James C. Scott talks about. Its inhabitants are not humanoid and have totally different biochemistry from us, so the local food's perfectly edible, palatable, and nourishing to them. They mostly live as gatherers at a low level technology, doing the sort of proto-agricultural ecosystem engineering lots of hunter-gatherers do on Earth. They maintain just enough technology to tell them when a starship is dropping by. When that happens, they crawl into little hidey-holes and go into a deep hibernation, which makes starship sensors not register them as alive. They come out of hibernation a few days later or something, which is usually enough time for visitors with more galactic-normal biochemistry to realize the plants on the planet are poisonous to them, lose interest in it, and leave.

Something something people who reject the value system of settler colonial society but don't reject the terra nullius myth.

Also, I might use these ideas for a planet in my own sci fi, cause it has a premise that easily lends itself to such a scenario happening somewhere in it.

#Star Trek #writing ideas #speculative biology #cw: gross #cw: cannibalism

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amazingmsme · 1 year ago

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Living Up to the Name

AN: This really got away from me, but it’s nandermo, can you blame me? We have a serious drought of wwdits tickle fics & like, what fucking gives they made it canon that the vamps tickle each other (or at least Nandor & Lazlo) & no I will not find a gif I am useless like that This one dips a pinky toe into the spicy pool, so be warned. Literally nothing happens, but bondage is involved & that’s about it. But day 20: relentless just SCREAMED nandermo & I just had to do it justice.

Guillermo was used to the odd requests the vampires would ask of him, some a little too odd, so it was no surprise that he'd become desensitized to it. Strangely enough, it was their more mundane and tame requests that threw him for a loop.

He'd just finished vacuuming the drapes (yes they needed to be vacuumed) when Nandor walked in. "Guillermo," he said, announcing his presence and grabbing his attention.

"Hello master," he greeted with a smile, one Nandor shyly returned before growing serious once more. He was doing that thing where he wanted to say something, but wanted you to be the one to prompt the conversation, so he just lingered in the room until you cracked.

"Did you need something?" he asked when Nandor didn't continue on his own.

"I've just been thinking a lot."

"Oh? What about?"

"Me, obviously." Guillermo couldn't help the amused scoff that slipped out, nor the fondly annoyed look he gave the cameras. Nandor either didn't notice, or didn't care. "Mostly about who I used to be. How I used to be able to make entire countries bend to my will. My reputation as a heartless conqueror," despite the awful words, his voice grew soft with nostalgia. "People used to fear me Guillermo. Some loved me, most hated me. But they all feared me."

Guillermo set down the vacuum attachment and turned to face him. "And do you... miss?... that?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course I do. What kind of a question is that?" Nandor shot a look of his own towards the camera, as if to say "is this guy for real?" He even went as far as to subtly point at his familiar. Well, as subtle as Nandor was capable of. He let out a heavy sigh. "My name used to mean something. Nandor the Relentless. Now I'm just... Nandor."

"Is that really such a bad thing?" Guillermo asked, brows furrowed. Nandor rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

"I guess not," he grumbled, lower lib jutting out in a pout and he kicked the leg of a nearby table. "But I've gone soft," he said dejectedly.

"No, no you're not soft. You're still just as ruthless as ever," Guillermo tried to comfort him, feeling incredibly awkward as he did so. But it seemed to work at least.

"You really think so?" he asked. Guillermo nodded. Nandor broke out into a wide grin, fangs on full display. "Heh, thanks. These hands used to make people scream," he reminisced, flexing his fingers. Guillermo couldn't help but stare at the movement and swallowed.

"Still do," he added before he thought better of it, eyes going wide. Nandor straightened his posture, watching Guillermo carefully. "I mean- Lazlo and Nadja get pretty loud," he quickly added as an excuse. Nandor smirked and stood up, walking over to Guillermo.

He tried to busy himself so he wouldn't have to look in Nandor's eyes. It still didn't help the flutter in his heart when Nandor towered in front of him.

"Oh Guillermo..." the tone in his voice made him snap his head up to look at him. He didn't know if the hungry look in his eyes frightened or excited him. "Did we make you feel left out?"

Guillermo fumbled for the right words. "N-no, no, I-I'm good. More than good," he stuttered.

"It's okay, no need to be embarrassed here."

"I'm not-" but Guillermo cut himself off, knowing better than to try arguing with Nandor of all people.

"It's only natural to be curious. You could've just asked to join, we totally would've let you," he flirted, making Guillermo blush. "You know, I've wanted to make you scream for mercy for quite some time." The boldness of the statement threw him off guard.

"Have you now?" he asked, voice higher pitched. Nandor must've thought it was out of fear, because he clarified.

"Oh I wouldn't be hurting you. I'd just tickle you until you begged me to stop. But I won't." Guillermo felt his cheeks heat up, his throat going dry. "It's not so bad. Just ask Lazlo.

Guillermo shook his head. "I don't- I don't need his input."

"Very well. Follow me." he gestured with a single finger for him to come along. Obediently, he followed.

He'd only ever been in their... playroom to clean it, and he certainly never thought he'd be brought back here. Never thought he'd be so willing to go either, but life is full of surprises. There were various tools and toys lining the walls and spread out on tables for display, and there were various bondage set ups to choose from.

"Go ahead, make yourself comfortable," Nandor insisted. It was a little hard when Guillermo could hear his pulse racing in his ears. He decided to play it safe, laying on the king sized bed against the wall. Nandor sat next to him, looking him up and down with a kind of excitement Guillermo didn't often see. The fact it was directed at him made butterflies flit about in his stomach.

"Good, now take off your shirt." When Guillermo only stared at him in shock, he clarified, "Trust me, it feels much better without clothes." Guillermo ducked his head and blushed.

"Okay yeah I got it," he rushed out. He took a deep breath and pulled the shirt over his head. "So I-I'm guessing you're gonna just- tie me up?" Nandor chuckled at that.

"No silly, I'm horrible at knots! We have cuffs for that!"

"Of course you do," he mumbled under his breath as Nandor retrieved them. When he came back, standing over the bed, he must've sensed the nervous energy coming off of him in waves.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said, surprisingly gentle as he rocked back and forth on his feet. Guillermo furrowed his brows.

"What? No, you wanted this. And I mean, come on," he said, his own voice casual and almost teasing. Nandor cocked his head like a curious puppy. "It's just tickling. How bad can it actually be?" he asked skeptically and almost immediately regretted it.

"Oh you'd be surprised, my dear Guillermo," he all but purred. His heart all but skipped a beat as he laid down on the bed, raising his arms for Nandor to cuff. He did the same his his ankles, testing them to make sure they're secure but not too tight.

His hands hovered over his bare torso for only a moment before diving for the hips. Guillermo shrieked and instantly started bucking. "I thought about starting off slow, but I think we're both too eager for that," he teased, drilling his thumbs over his hip dips.

"Ihihi'm nohohot! S-slow ihihis good!" he cried through his laughter. Nandor hummed, thinking it over before agreeing.

"You're right, we have all night. Why rush things?" he asked, feral grin overtaking his features. Guillermo giggled nervously, the sound growing stronger when Nandor's hands touched down on the tender underside of his arms. Fingertips dragged ever so lightly from his wrists to his armpits, and Guillermo never knew something he could just barely feel could be so torturous. His laugh was short and breath and he was already desperately tugging on his arms. Nandor looked down at him with such adoration, hands never faltering in their movements. Up and down, up and down his arms he went, leaving goosebumps in his wake. When he finally decided to quit playing with his food, he let his hands reach his underarms, drawing lazy circles and playing with the hair.

Guillermo snorted, nose scrunched adorably as his arms flexed and strained to come down. He was barely even touching him, and Guillermo was giggling like a little school girl.

"Wow Guillermo, have you been working out?" Nandor asked when he noticed the bulging biceps on display. "You've been hiding all of this under shapeless sweaters," he lamented, reaching up to feel the muscle. Funny, he'd never known his fucking biceps were ticklish, until now that is. Nandor was just squeezing them, admiring the muscle and he was practically in stitches.

"I just lihihike sweheaters!" he yelped, arching his back. Nandor acted on impulse, having done this many times with both Nadja and Lazlo and was used to adapting to their bodily reactions. Which was why he shoved his face down onto his belly, growling and nibbling against soft skin as he shook his head, adding even more tickly vibrations to the cocktail of neurons firing in his brain.

Guillermo positively screamed with laughter, light and airy snickers turning to full on cackles in an instant. The combination of soft lips, sharp fangs, and that stupid motherfucking beard had him in an incomprehensible state. And honestly? He couldn't complain. Oh it was horrible, yes, but it was Nandor.

Speaking of, he was feeling rather proud right about now. He was unraveling Guillermo's sanity with each passing second, not only that, but he had agreed to this. The big, strong, vampire killing machine was nothing but a hysterical mess under his fingers, and it was perhaps the greatest power trip he'd felt in ages.

"Ohoho fuck oho shihihit thahahat's ahahawful!" he screeched, thrashing as much as his bonds would allow. Nandor didn't bother to raise his head up when answering, instead speaking directly into the skin and sending him into another round of quiet snickers and chuckles.

"Good, I'm not trying to be nice," he deadpanned, causing a shiver to crawl up Guillermo's spine. Nandor smirked against his stomach before grazing ever so slowly with his teeth. Guillermo swore and bucked violently, deep boisterous laughter bouncing off the walls. It tickled so much that he didn't even notice when Nandor's fangs accidentally pierced through the skin from all his squirming. He sure as hell noticed the tongue that started lapping at the puncture though.

"NAHAHANDOHOHOR NOHOHO! NOHOHO TONGUE OHOHO FUCK PLEHEHEASE!" he shrieked at the top of his lungs. Every part of him was screaming to get away, but those damn fuzzy cuffs prove effective.

To Nandor, the helpless plea might as well have been singing praise. He glanced up and managed to catch Guillermo's eye while he caught his breath, shooting him a devious wink. He shook his head, tugging on his arms.

"Nonono Nandor, whatever it is, don't-"

Nandor, of course, didn't listen, and instead, maintained eye contact as he drug his tongue across his tummy to wiggle straight into his bellybutton.

It's a good think Guillermo was laying down because he felt his legs give out, slowly losing their fight. He was full on cackling now, writhing from side to side and thrashing endlessly. Nandor flicked and swirled his tongue inside his naval, sending him spiraling closer to madness. Each thrust of his hips in an attempt to alleviate the sensation only made it grow worse as Guillermo snorted once more.

"I think you're even worse than Lazlo," Nandor mused aloud, making him blush even more.

"Shuhuhut thehe hehehell up!" he snapped, mirth masking any malice that might've been hidden in his words. Nandor gasped, forming his hands into claws and vibrating them on his exposed tummy.

"Guillermo, I am shocked! You ought to know better than to talk to your master that way," he threatened, a playfully dangerous edge to his voice. Guillermo's eyes widened.

"Ihihi'm sorry! Ihihi'm sohohorry!" he squealed when fingers began working themselves between each rib bone, bubbly snickers and snorts spilling from his mouth.

"I'm afraid sorry isn't good enough," Nandor said without an ounce of sympathy in his voice. He straddled his waist and loomed over him, anxious excitement filling him to the brim. He really hoped that Nandor didn't notice how much he was enjoying this. Which seemed unlikely, seeing as he was practically sitting in his lap.

The sound of buzzing snapped him from his thoughts as he looked at Nandor, who now held an electric toothbrush in each hand. Guillermo felt his heart sink and jump in his throat simultaneously.

They started out in his armpits, making him jolt with a loud peal of laughter. When they didn't move away, his laugh got faster and more shrill the longer the torment continued. Nandor drug the spinning brushes down his sides, relishing in every twitch, gasp and giggle. The toothbrushes made their journey back up, this time taking a detour across the expansive chest.

Guillermo's laugh got more frantic and hysterical as Nandor circled his nipples. He snorted, shaking his head and biting his lip to keep the laughter at bay. It was no use once he touched the brushes down on those sensitive buds. If Nandor thought he was thrashing before, it was nothing compared to this.

"Nahahandohohor plehehease! I ca- I cahahan't!" Guillermo begged through helpless laughter. Nandor cocked his head and hummed.

"Can't what?"

"Ihihi cahahan't tahake ihihihit," he whined, twisting side to side to try and dislodge those downright torturous spinning bristles.

"Aaawww, you poor thing," Nandor mock cooed, leaning down to whisper, "I don't care."

Nandor wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon. After all, he had a relentless reputation to uphold.

#tickletober #tickletober 2023 #tickletober day 20 #nandermo #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #wwdits fic #wwdits tickle fic #ticklish!guillermo

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sekhisadventures · 3 months ago

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Adventures in Azeroth

Table of Contents Version 2

SO! Because Tumblr decided to throw a hissy fit over my original table of contents getting too big, I have to break this into multiple ones now. -_-;

Forward

What follows is 100% non-canonical but anyone who plays the games should realize that pretty quickly.

This is the stories in my own personal headcannon for my characters in the online RPG World of Warcraft. I claim no ownership of the Warcraft franchise or any of the elements therein and this should be considered a work of fanfiction and naught besides. All elements in these stories, save for my characters themselves, are the intellectual property of Blizzard Entertainment.

I’ve been a WoW player since just before the launch of Burning Crusade, but I’ve been playing Warcraft games since the very first Warcraft Orcs and Humans on the PC back in the 1990s. Its safe to say that I consider Azeroth a second home at this point, for as goofy as some parts of the story can become its still a world I can’t imagine living without anymore.

Because of that my characters in the game have taken on a sort of life of their own for me, some of them have been around for years themselves, and thus I decided to actually give them some stories beyond just ‘today I killed fifteen kobolds and sold their ears for a tuppence apiece.’

Also, I tend to re-read this a lot and edit when I catch something I goofed up or something that bugs me. Don't be shocked if it really isn't the same the second time you read it.

Characters

This section is, of course, the characters of the story. They're grouped into four sections on the page:

The members of the Alliance Adventurer group, Avalon.

The members of the Horde Mercenary Company, Savage United

The independent Protagonists

The Antagonists, grouped by their own allegiances.

The Story

As follows, the story’s chapters are listed in chronological order starting with The Witch of the Blackwald. Simply start there and continue on from that point.

Early Story (Pre-WoW era to the end of Battle for Azeroth)

This part is piecemeal and mostly just short stories when I was hitting the road with everything, thus I'm condensing it all into a "Book 1" of sorts.

Shadowlands

This was where I started seriously writing the story. It all began as a way to kill time during the content droughts that Shadowlands had while the A Better ABK movement and the early days of the Covid pandemic were going and devs were either too busy fighting for better working conditions or trying not to die from Covid to make content for WoW. (That being said, such droughts were totally understandable in all that chaos and with both hitting at once I can hardly blame them. Glad to hear they're unionized and doing better now.)

Dragonflight

Dragonflight was where the fanfiction really went wild. I had a ton of ideas, the characters were established, and I dove in hard. This is easily the biggest section so far, and contains the prologue section known as "Three Years of Peace" marking the cannon three year time gap between the end of Shadowlands and the start of Dragonflight, as well as the story of Dragonflight.

The War Within

The Worldsoul Saga has kicked my imagination into overdrive, and I've got lots of plans. This one is currently a work in progress at time of writing, but I hope you all enjoy what I've come up with for it... at least I assume people are reading this. Tumblr doesn't show me pageviews.

It starts with "The Time Between" which is a short series focusing on the heroes teaming up with Chromie of the Bronze Dragonflight, then leads into the story of The War Within proper.

The Appendix

This is where I put just random tidbits of lore, stuff about the setting that isn't in the actual World of Warcraft game, and other such things I make for giggles.

#adventures in azeroth #warcraft fanfiction #warcraft #world of warcraft #warcraft roleplay

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theotherboywhonevergrewup · 11 months ago

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My Top Songs of 2023

Another year down, another post of my top 10 songs of the year! These songs are not necessarily the 10 best songs of the year musically or even my 10 favorite songs of the year. They're simply the songs that defined my year of 2023 the most.

First, the honorable mentions. "MR. TAKE YA B*TCH" by Lil Mabu featuring chirseanrock easily had the catchiest hook of 2023. That song is addicting. "SAD B!TCH" by Anne-Marie was also a standout this year with the perfect blend of dance-y, catchy, and empowering to get over being sad. And I feel it must be mentioned, even though Rihanna had an unforgettable Super Bowl performance this year, that Rihanna drought is still here with no new album from her, and no new songs this year. Now, let's get into this list!

10. "Alive" by The Scarlet Opera

"Alive" lives up to its name, as a huge lively rock anthem released in February reminiscent of Queen. I hadn't heard of the Scarlet Opera before this song, and it really took me by surprise. It starts off with a beautiful vocal and piano melody, but the band keeps taking the song up a notch, especially vocalist Luka Bazulka with his vocals absolutely soaring by the end of the song. The lyrics perfectly match this musical adventure, being about finding your place and living true to yourself. The single was eventually accompanied by an EP, Comedy, but personally, "Alive" was still easily the standout track.

9. "What Was" by Benson Boone

Last year, I had a goal to go to at least 10 concerts. Thankfully, I was able to make that goal, going to 22 concerts and 1 music festival! Of all of the singers I saw last year, Benson Boone's vocals were one of the best, which is especially impressive given his limited training. Granted, he puts it on a lil thick for the ladies a lot of the time, but somehow it works. His fun personality makes a good balance for his often sorrowful songs. "What Was" in particular has the narrator regretting losing his relationship and wanting to start over. Boone is able to tenderly hit the verses and emote the torment in the chorus, all while cheekily doing a backflip in live performances. His corresponding EP Pulse is generally more upbeat than his previous release Walk Me Home.... I appreciate the variety in his discography, but his other tearjerkers like "Little Runaway" and "To Love Someone" also hit the spot, especially since I went through a bad breakup last year and really resonated with the sad white boi anthems.

8. "leave me in the dark" by Alexander Stewart

Speaking of my breakup and sad white boi songs, "leave me in the dark" is probably the breakup song that lyrically matched my situation the most. The music video beautifully captures the metaphor of a former lover left alone, blindfolded, lost and confused with nowhere to go. Stewart's vocals capture the rollercoaster of emotions, from a soft feeling of loneliness to a loud angry cry of resentment, with the simple piano escalating to a powerful piano, drum, and belt before cutting back to the quiet piano and vocals again. Follow-up singles "I'm trying" and "i wish you cheated" along with EP if you only knew also capture the turmoil of recovering from a breakup, and they were such comforts for me to know that, even though I was left in the dark, I was not alone.

7. "Waffle House" by Jonas Brothers

Let's put a pause on the sad songs for a second. "Waffle House" is simply a fun, addicting song about how family and friendship can overcome the speedbumps of life. Its music video captures this with fun choreography and ending with a concert, which of course I always love a concert experience. I'll admit, this song is mostly on this list due to my trip to the Midwest (we don't have Waffle House where I live). That trip was a blast; it was awesome to reconnect with friends whom I hadn't seen in years who now live all over the country. I missed a late night dinner at Waffle House with a couple of them, and all of us joked how Waffle House was the highlight of the trip, but I think that really made me resonate with the song in how such an ordinary place and experience and that sense of ordinary connection is beautiful in its own way, pushing life forward. Their album The Album has other fun hits like "Wings," expected of a Jonas Brothers album and a breath of fresh air for my playlists.

6. "Flowers" by Miley Cyrus

I didn't realize I had put the two Disney Channel alumni next to each other until after I compiled the list, but it feels right. As someone who grew up with Disney Channel and am similar in age to Cyrus and the Jonas', I have always been proud to see people my age killing it in life and overcoming various obstacles, "blooming" if you will. If this list was a list of songs that were all over America this year, this song would definitely be number one. There was no escaping this song, and you know what, I'm not mad about that. Cyrus very famously had a nasty divorce, but with this song, Cyrus takes control of her life and embraces self-love and independence. At the time of release, I didn't think much of this song, but as the year went on, as I experienced my breakup, as I recovered, I related to this song more and more, and each time I hear it, I recognize something new and find a way to love myself even more and embrace being free from the toxic relationship I was previously in. I think most people would have expected me to be stuck in a state of regret, like Bruno Mars's "When I Was Your Man." But just as Cyrus references that song (which her ex-husband reportedly dedicated to her), I'm proud to be past all that and out of that rut. The "Flowers" music video is simple, comprised mostly of clips of Cyrus enjoying her life, which is how it should be. Endless Summer Vacation has a variety of pop bops, some of which are arguably more musically and lyrically powerful (see "Used To Be Young"), but "Flowers" took the year by storm and rightfully so.

5. "missin u" by Tori Kelly

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To my memory, I don't think I've ever added music from anyone I personally know onto these lists, but "missin u" is too good to pass up. Both the song and the music video itself perfectly draw from its 90s and 00s inspirations from the pop and R&B scenes that people of my generation grew up with. The best part in my opinion is Tori absolutely going in with the adlibs, just as the pop and R&B divas would do back in the day. The corresponding EP tori is full of great music, most notably "cut" which includes writing credits by Timbaland, which I remember us talking about back in the day. I'm so proud that she accomplished that dream and many other dreams, and I know there are many more accomplishments to come!

4. "Other's Melodies" by Gatton

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This song is so beautiful and healing. It's very simple and somber, with mostly just Gatton's voice and piano. It's a song of realization and not necessarily dwelling in this, but a melancholy reflection resolving in hope. The music video captures fun moments between friends, so much so that I wasn't even sure if Gatton was in the video at first. But I think that's part of the message of the video, that Gatton is now in a safe space with safe people, moving on from those who were draining him. I am grateful to have this piece of beauty, piece of healing that I carried with me as I found my voice again.

3. "What Was I Made For?" by Billie Eilish

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The theme for me this year was sad piano songs, and arguably the biggest sad piano of the year was rightfully Billie Eilish's "What Was I Made For?" It's primary meaning is the realization of the current state of womanhood and corresponding struggles as girls grow up, as this song is essentially Margot Robbie's character's theme in the Barbie film. As a man, I may not fully understand women's' struggles (relating more to Ken's theme from the film "I'm Just Ken" which is a fun and dramatic song in its own right), but I agree it's important for art pieces like the film and this song to help women related and men understand. Beyond that, the song is a beautiful piece about finding your place in the world. Eilish is a master of the soft vocals and harmonies floating over the piano to convey these complex feelings.

2. "One That Got Away" by MUNA

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"One That Got Away" is an upbeat song about realizing your self-worth and having the confidence to walk away from situations that aren't for you. Katie Gavin's voice delivers the catchy melody over the 80s inspired synths and drums for a memorable tune that leaves listeners dancing and singing along, empowering us to remind ourselves we are the ones that got away. The music video takes the title more literally, reminiscent of heist movies like Oceans Eleven. They didn't release an album this year, still somewhat fresh from their 2022 release MUNA, but I look forward to hearing more from them!

1. "Maybe Next Time" by Jamie Miller

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Let's get back to those sad white boi songs! While Alexander Stewart's "leave me in the dark" is the song that best reflects my breakup in retrospect, while going through it, "Maybe Next Time" was what I was feeling most. Welsh singer Jamie Miller starts soft with a heartbreaking opening line, "Mom says trust your gut but I think mine's broken / 'Cause I could swear that we were meant to be." This self doubt and brokenness show in his voice as it and the piano eventually escalate to regret for not being enough and hope for being good enough next time. "Maybe next time I'll be enough / You'll give me everythin' instead of givin' up / Maybe next time won't be a waste / You'll be the one and not the onе that got away." And in true Jamie Miller fashion, the song lightens up a bit with a raw delivery of the beginning of the chorus in a lower octave before emotions come crushing down with his powerful belt, and the final quiet delivery of "maybe next time." I think what's so beautiful about Miller's releases this year is that you can see his journey of healing through his music. Looking back now, I think "Maybe Next Time" is the wrong message, at least for me. While it is beautiful in its honesty, the narrator puts himself down so much and focuses on whether or not he is enough. I think Miller recognized this as well, and subsequent release "No Matter What" has lyrics such as "Even on the dark days, even through the heartache / Even when you're too afraid to say you need someone / ... / I'm not givin' up on you, I'm here no matter what." While this could be an uplifting love song to a significant other, its corresponding music video has him singing this song to a younger version of himself, which I take to be overcoming that self-blame in "Maybe Next Time" and to be showing up for yourself when you need it most. With EP The Things I Left Unsaid, we see even more of his journey. "Rooting For You" is a song of acceptance. There is still some lingering hurt, "My biggest fear is that you move on faster / It's sad but it's true," but any lingering feelings his have are now joy (albeit a complicated, painful joy) for his ex as he roots for them, "Heard you found somebody else / I felt my heart drop out of my chest / If only one of us is doing better / I'm glad that it's you." The final song of The Things I Left Unsaid shows him even further into his healing journey. "Only Place" has the narrator now fully realizing how wrong his ex was for him, "There was a time / When every part of me was part of you / Every lie you said felt like the truth / Hearts were getting twisted / Toxic narcissistic / But pretty damn convincing." This leads to the titular line in the chorus, "The only place I'm moving is on." No more looking back, no more "maybe next time," it's over and done. I honestly did not like this song as much at first, that is until I reached that realization myself, that moving on is something to be celebrated. It seems like a small moment, but actually living the line "You call I / Ignore it / For the first time" was one of many moments that I realized I'm happy, happier even, that I have moved on and the only place I'm moving is on. To round it out, I do want to quickly mention that the only song I haven't mentioned on The Things I Left Unsaid, "Empty Room," is also a breathtaking song dealing with the loss of a loved one, in Miller's case his grandmother. I'm glad to have finally seen Miller perform in person, and it was an amazing experience meeting him and getting to tell him how his music helped me on my healing journey. It was so encouraging to hear him say, "Well, we're on to bigger and better things" to me. 2023 was hard, heartbreak is destructive, but I'm blessed to say I'm honestly happier. It turned out to be one of if not the best year of my life, and I'm so grateful that life just keeps getting better.

#me #Youtube

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practicalsolarpunk · 4 years ago

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Let’s talk about seed bombs

They’re pretty cool, right? Planting flowers, saving the bees, guerilla gardening, what’s not to love? But there are some things to consider before jumping in, in order to ensure that they are effective and to avoid causing any harm to the local ecosystem.

1. Native species

Many of the seed bombs available for purchase are... less than responsible about what kinds of seeds they use, even the ones that advertise as native. Read the list of species, look them up, ascertain whether or not they’re actually native to your specific region. Take the U.S. for example. It’s a massive country, and while a particular plant may be native to the country in general, it may be native to a state on the opposite coast. Do your research, make sure the seeds are actually native to your specific area.

Some resources to help with that*:

https://www.audubon.org/native-plants

https://www.wildflower.org/plants/

https://www.nwf.org/NativePlantFinder/Plants

https://xerces.org/pollinator-conservation/pollinator-friendly-plant-lists (scroll down on this page and there’s some international resources, too)

2. Where to place them

This one is a bit harder, because there are so many variables. Is the soil bare? Why? Is the soil so poor nothing will grow there, not even the most tenacious weeds? Is it high traffic? Is it heavily compacted? Some kind of pollution leaking into the soil and making it inhospitable?

Or is the soil covered? Is it grass? Is it a native grass? Does it get mowed? Is it going to get sprayed? If it isn’t grass, what’s already growing there? Is it native species? Is it naturalized, polite, nonnative species that aren’t threatening the biodiversity of the regions? Or is it a highly invasive nonnative that will choke out anything else trying to grow?

Observe the area for a while. What kind of sunlight does it get? Is it wet? Dry? Is there erosion? Mixing many different types of seeds together into one bomb might not be the best idea - even plants that are native to your area can have vastly different needs. The resources above should also have information about the growing conditions for the plants. Again - do your research.

3. Saving the bees

Not to stir the pot too much, but honeybees, while facing issues due to pesticides primarily, are not really in danger of extinction, they’re supported by humans enough to survive. Native bees, on the other hand, are, and we depend on them just as much, if not more, for pollination of our food than we do on honeybees. Pretty much globally, native bees and other pollinators and insects in general are in dire straits. They are desperately in need of love, less poison, habitat, and food sources. So, what kinds of bees and other pollinators do you have in your area? Which ones are most threatened? What do they eat? Where do they live? Many times, native insects have their own niche they fill, with specific plants that they depend on, and those plants depend on those specific insects in return. It’s pretty fascinating to do a deep dive into local insect and plant species, and their interactions. Once again, research is the way to go!

Some resources*:

https://www.nrcs.usda.gov/wps/portal/nrcs/main/national/plantsanimals/pollinate/

https://saveplants.org/pollinator-search/

4. Over seeding

Ok, some of the recipes I’ve linked below call for absurd amounts of seeds per batch - don’t do it. The seeds won’t spread out, so they’ll all be attempting to grow in maybe a few square inches of space at the most. Each bomb should only have a few seeds, otherwise in their fight for space, sun, nutrients, and water, they’ll all die. Putting a dozen or more seeds in a single bomb is wasteful, expensive, and counterproductive. There is literally no benefit to it, please, for the love everything green and growing in the world, don’t do it.

Now that we’ve covered some of the things that need to be taken into consideration, let’s talk about how to actually do this, hopefully successfully!

1. Seriously consider making your own! The process of making them involves wetting all the ingredients, including the seeds, which may start the germination process. If they then dry out again, they likely won’t grow. It will likely work best to make them right before planting, and toss them before they have a chance to dry too much. Also, if you make your own, you can be 100% sure that the species are well suited for the area, because you’ve done your research! Good for you, working hard to ensure those little bombs have a big impact!

Here’s some recipes, take your pick! (But, as mentioned above, ignore the parts that say to use too many seeds - you only want a few in each bomb. depending on the type of seed.)

https://www.wildlifetrusts.org/actions/how-make-seed-bomb

https://littlebinsforlittlehands.com/make-seed-bombs-earth-day-activity/

https://seed-balls.com/basic-seed-ball-recipe

And a handy image via this site:

[photo id: a graphic titled How to make seed bombs. Below it reads: You will need: meadow flower seeds or seeds collected from the garden, peat-free compost, water, powdered clay from craft shops - use clay soil if you can’t find any, mixing bowl. 1. In a bowl, mix together 1 cup of seeds with 5 cups of compost and 2-3 cups of clay powder. 2 Slowly mix in water with your hands until everything sticks together, then roll mixture into firm balls. 3 (no words, but a drawing of seed bombs laying on grass). 4 Now for the fun bit - plant by throwing your seed bombs at bare parts of the garden!]

2. Toss them out in the spring (or whatever season they germinate best in), when you know there will be a few rainy days in row. Seeds need wet to germinate, and good, steady moisture for the first bit of growing. If that isn’t feasible in your region, consider going back to water them gently at least once a day for a few days or a week or more, until the seedlings are strong enough to withstand a bit of drought. Unless, of course, the seeds are wet loving, and have been tossed somewhere that already maintains a decent moisture level for them.

3. Where to get seeds

Collect from native plants already growing in your area, that you have permission to collect from, or that are on public land. Make sure you are 100% sure of your id - don’t want to be spreading invasive species around!

Buy them from a reputable source such as*:

https://www.prairiemoon.com/ (they have lots of awesome info about native species in north america - a great resource!)

https://www.nativeseeds.org/ (focuses on food crops mostly, but a fantastic resource all the same)

https://www.seedsource.com/

Another method if you’ve got space is to buy seeds, but plant them in your own garden and collect seeds from them. Those seeds can get really expensive, so this way you only need a few, and then with time they’ll multiply!

Try to make connections with people in your area already growing native plants - they’ll probably be happy to help you get started with some seeds!

Phew that was a lot of information! I hope it helps you all in your bombing adventures!

- Mod S

*North America focused, I’m sorry, I tried to find resources and databases for other regions and couldn’t find ones that looked reliable or comprehensive. If anyone has any, please add it on or send in an ask.

#seed bombs #guerilla gardening #gardening #plants

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snekdood · 6 months ago

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yes, I have specified this in the tags (well, at least I thought I did, maybe it was a different convo). and if you use everwilde farms to get your native seeds, double check on their map that its native to your range, because sometimes even when you filter it it will give you options from the whole other side of the country. i've unfortunately ended up with a couple california plants when im from the midwest and it can be frustrating, tbh prairie moon has been the best as far as seeds go and an actually accurate filter system.

but to be more specific, wild thyme, white clover, sweet alyssum, sweet violet, corsican mint, that daisy, and chamomile are not native to the US, tbh I only added that pic in because I figured it could at the very least be a step forward from a monoculture of turf grass if you're an older person who maybe struggles with new things and letting go of your lawn, however it's true that many of these can become invasive, namely the white clover. there are native strawberries, just check to make sure it is, and the ground covers I didn't list above are native to parts of the US, but yes be sure it's actually native to your range.

And even though I think planting these ground covers is a step up from a monoculture lawn, it's still hardly a step. it'd be better if you just planted a full yard of native plants. some places to find some seeds would be prairiemoon nursery (all over the US + sells live plants and roots), everwilde (also all over the US + heirloom crops), seedsource (southern US), wild seed project (mostly north east but a little midwest), mowildflowers (midwest + they sell live plants if you live in MO), toadshade (midwest/north east), ouriques farm (owner is from florida but they grow things from all over, make sure whatever you're looking to buy is actually native to your range. they also sell crops and non natives, so be careful when buying), and nativeseeds (mostly specialized in crops cultivated by native americans, but their crops are typically drought tolerant and hot-weather hardy and their seeds seem to be mostly sourced from the southwestern US, all around a really cool website to check out no matter where you're from. look under their "wildflowers" section to find native wildflowers)

over all, try to find a native plant store near you, chances are they are able to ship you seeds and plants as well :>

*casually posts this at the same time to further my agenda of growing native plants instead of grass and shitty ornamentals*

#gardening #native plants #native plant gardening #native american agriculture #kill your lawn #if anyone needs any more websites lmk #though most of the ones I have saved are for stuff in my range in the midwest #honorable mention is seedvilleusa

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star-lemonade · 4 years ago

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The Altar

Ateez San x Reader

Genre: smut, candy shop au

Cw: smut, San likes it when you say his name

Rating: R

Word count: 5 k

Thanks to @yutasgalaxy for giving feedback. I changed a lot since you read it xD

“You should really go there.”

Your friend’s voice still rang in your ears. These words had been said to you so often lately. Your friend had heard good things about it, although you suspected it was first-hand experience. You felt frustrated about the lack of men in your life. It was hard to meet someone new and the few times you had actually met a nice guy, they had not been interested in you. Afterwards you felt the drought in your bed even more than usual. Maybe it was time. Time to go there. The Candy Shop.

You went to the address your friend provided. That was the first unusual thing. When you had looked for it online, you had not been able to find an address. How could there be a place that can not be found on the internet? The building was as mundane as a grey house between other grey houses could be. The entrance did not look like a shop either. The window next to the door was small and drapes obscured the view inside. Only the “open” sign at the door indicated that this was the right place.

You opened the door, and a bell announced your entrance to the empty room. It was a small space for a store, and it was filled to the brim with boxes. Boxes on shelves, boxes on the floor, in giant box towers, boxes hanging in nets from the ceiling. The oddest thing was their color; all of the boxes were the same warm grey. No writing. No pictures. How did anyone know what was inside the boxes? Maybe I’m wrong here? You turned to leave.

“Oh, there you are.”

The voice came from behind you and it sounded familiar. The woman looked exactly how you remembered her, Ms Lee, who had been your homeroom teacher in middle school. She wore a tie-dye tank top that showed off her wrinkly arms.

“Ms Lee?”

She smiled like a proud mother, not something you wanted to see in a sex toy shop. Her smile had always been an attractive feature of her. You could see why she had been the most popular widow at the school.

“No, dear. I’m the Owner.”

Even her voice sounded the same. At least you thought she sounded like Ms Lee. On the other hand it had been years since you had see her.

“Oh, excuse me.”

You could have sworn that she was your old teacher, but she was not. Good. Imagine running into your old teacher in a shop like this. Awkward.

“Ehm, I’m looking for something.”

There was no point in feeling embarrassed now. You had already entered the sex shop, but you still felt your face burn. If you act awkward, it will just be more embarrassing. Get it together! You were about to elaborate further when she said:

“Of course. I think I have just the thing. Follow me.”

How could the owner sound so confident, when you had not given her any information? She turned around and walked to the counter in the back of the shop, and you followed. Surprisingly the counter was not made out of boxes stacked on top of each other but from wood.

“Wait here, please.”

The Owner went behind the counter and left through a door. The side room too seemed to be filled with boxes, as much as you could see of it. You still wondered how she knew what was in each box. Did they all have the same things inside? Maybe there had been a shipment of something, and now it clogged up the place? She returned with a smile on her face.

“Here.”

She held the thing out for you, and without thinking, you took it from her. Why did you do that?

“A walking stick?”

The long wooden stick was knobbly and looked like it had been a small tree that someone debarked. It was not carved but it had grown relatively straight. The surface was polished and waxed, shining in the dim light of the shop.

“Yes. You should go and have a picnic.”

You stared at the stick and back to her incredulously. This must be a joke.

“But-”

“No problem,” The Owner waved you off. “That’s on the house. Have fun.”

She smiled before leaving through the door behind the counter. The lock clicked into place you were alone with your stick.

“...should I stick this in my butt or what?”

You shouted after her but the Owner did not return. Reluctantly, you left and went home.

That night you had a dream about your childhood house where your parents used to live. It was small and cozy in a tiny town near the mountains.

The mountains.

Yes, you missed going up the hidden paths to the tops of the small mountains. The forest that covered them had been your place to play when you had lived there. You had spent the years of your childhood running around in the undergrowth. In your dream the sun was shining from a bright blue sky that only came in autumn. You walked up the mountain as you had done many times. It was not clear to you if this was a memory or not but you almost felt the sun burn on your face. You reached the top of the mountain in what felt like a record time. Here stood a bench that overlooked the valley and your hometown. It was beautiful.

When you woke up, the dream had left a hole in you. You yarned for the home, that was not your home any more. You decided that you would go there.

Today. Now.

You got dressed, packed an overnight bag and ate a big breakfast. The ride to the town would take two hours, but you did not know if you would be able to return to your apartment in time. Hiking was exhausting and maybe you would be too tired to drive back to the city.

You grabbed the walking stick and went to your car. The drive was familiar. You had done it lots of times. Today the time flew and you found yourself pulling into the parking lot of the only supermarket of your hometown.

Maybe I should get some food? I will be hungry when I’m up there. You looked at the mountain that barely classified as one. Today the air was humid and mist hung over the forest beyond the town limits. Thegrey sky looked about ready to release more on the land. You did not really pay attention to what you bought. The old man at the counter looked up and smiled. You paid and left the store.

The parking lot where the hiking paths started was empty. It had just rained and most people had stayed at home. You packed the food and drinks into your backpack.

The path was slippery and your shoes sank a few centimeters with every step. This made the hike much harder and slower than you had expected. You knew the path well, even after all this time, your body moved on its own now. Pulling one foot out of the mud and planting it further up the path. Repeat with the other foot. In the forest you saw some trees that had fallen over. This was always the case of course but they were different from last time you had been here.

Some time later you found yourself at a bench, and stopped there to drink something. The next part would be a bit steeper so you pulled out the walking stick.

The ground was wet and the path was getting muddier the higher up you went. Maybe I should take a short cut to the top? If you went straight through the trees here, you would be there faster than following the path. You were impatient today and turned left into the forest.

The ground here was less muddy but you had to step more carefully. Holes in the ground could be hidden by dead leaves and small plants. Breaking your ankle in the middle of the forest did not sound like a good idea. The forest smelled of the herbs that grew all over the place. You considered picking some of them, but you were not sure which ones were really eatable. Ahead the trees grew less dense.

In the glade you saw something and walked closer to check it out. It was a slab of stone that was overgrown by moss and vines. You examined the stone closer and you noticed the top was smooth and the sides were covered in patterns. It was not an ordinary stone; It was an altar.

The altar of a forgotten deity. Lost in the forest and being consumed by nature without the care of the believers.

I don’t believe in gods, but it feels like I should pay my respects. You never know.

You set your backpack down next to the altar and picked up a stick that was lying on the ground. The moss grew mostly on the sides which would not be easy to clean but the top should be easier. You used the stick to scrape off the vines and grime that had accumulated there. It did not come off well but at least the altar looked a bit better than before. You drank some water from your bottle and looked into your backpack.

Maybe I should leave some offerings too?

You picked up a leaf and used it as a makeshift plate for the rice. The red apple and one of the little desserts would have to do.

“Have a good day.”

You returned to the car without having been to the top. It was still light outside so you decided to drive back to your apartment. You felt exhausted but you really wanted to sleep in your own bed.

When you arrived the sun had set and you were about to fall asleep. You fell into your bed and passed out, sleeping like the proverbial stone.

The next day was Sunday which was good. No work. No need to get out of bed either.

You showered, made yourself a quick breakfast and got back under your warm blanket. Sunday morning was the perfect time to do nothing. You turned on the tv and continued to watch the drama you had started the prior week.

The couple got together in this episode and it made you feel so single. Seeing them kiss on screen made you miss kissing. Yeah, just kissing. What a lie. You paused the video. Maybe I should watch some porn instead? It still bugged you that your trip to the Candy Shop had been so fruitless. Why did you get a walking stick? The stick. You had not taken it with you. It was probably still next to the altar in the forest. Ah, well, my dildo will have to do. Getting off with it was nice, but it was not the same as having sex with a guy. For a moment you thought about the pretty male lead in the drama. How nice it would be to run your hands over his face and body. Sadly, this was not very realistic. I will go on tinder on Monday.

“Is it too much to ask for a cute, caring boyfriend to have hot sex with?”

You groaned and looked at the ceiling as if that was where your fate would be decided. It did not answer.

“That’s your wish‽”

You almost jumped out of bed. The voice came from your right, the side of the bed that had just been empty. It was not anymore. The man blended into the white sheets with his white clothing. Your heart hammered in your chest.

“What the fuck?!” You shouted. “How did you get in here? Who are you? Get out!”

You backed away. There was no bed left behind you. You fell over backwards but did not hit the ground. Your hand was caught in an iron grip.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

The man pulled you back into the bed. It brought you close to him. He had long hair that was tied at the top of his head. Something you expected to see in a historical drama not in your bedroom. He had a stunningly beautiful face. Intense eyes, full lips and a sharp jawline.

Why are all hot guys psychos?

“Let go!”

“You will fall again.”

His voice was so gentle it made your heart skip a beat. It was familiar, like a deja vu. This was not someone you had met before, but it still seemed like you knew him. Get it together, the guy broke into your house, don’t be lulled in by his looks.

“How did you get in here?”

You did not know what to do. He held your wrists in his hands, but you backed away as far as possible. Was he going to do something to you?

“I followed you. Yesterday.”

He said it as if it was the normal thing in the world. You stared at him, open mouthed. He had been here since yesterday? Your blood turned to ice. His grip was still holding your wrists. If he had not you would have fallen out of bed now.

“You cleaned the altar so nicely it woke me up from my sleep. It’s been ages since anyone left an offering there.”

The altar. How did he know about that? There had been no one there aside from you.

“Let me go and leave.”

He stared into your eyes. Nothing was hidden from that stare. You wanted to look away but could not. As if hypnotized you stared into his eyes. They were not brown as you had assumed, but a very dark green, like the pine trees at night.

“That’s not what you wished for.”

He kissed one of your hands. His lips were soft but the gesture sent a shiver down your spine. Some part of you was responding to his touch while your higher reasoning was screaming to get away.

“Who are you?”

Your voice was only a whisper, but in the quiet room it was as loud as a scream. He looked at you, reading your face like a book. You did not know if it would be better to show your fear or hide it. What would make him leave?

“I am the mountain.”

He puffed out his chest a bit as he said that. The mountain. What kind of name was that? You had known everyone who had lived in your hometown and no one was called San. Maybe he was a tourist who happened to be in the forest? Then it struck you. The altar. The mountain, San. This man was not a man at all. He was the god of the mountain and you had brought him to your home. That’s what you get from being nice, an uninvited guest. Great.

“And I decided to grant your wish.”

You were not ready to process any new information, but here he was, talking. Was it even possible that this man was the god of the mountain? No one had seen you in the forest. You had been alone yesterday evening and just now when you had made breakfast, the door had still been locked. So unless he broke into your apartment just now… no, you had not heard or seen anything out of the ordinary.

“You doubt me.”

San was clearly disappointed in your lack of faith. He stared at you, waiting for you to explain yourself. You had every right to be suspicious of some random dude who claimed to be a god.

“Yes.”

He nodded slowly and looked around your bedroom. The little pout on his face made him look cuter and less scary, but he was still plenty scary. He let go of your hands and left the room. Maybe I should run for it. You sprang from the bed and in a few steps you were at the bedroom door. Where you almost ran into San. He was both taller and shorter than you had expected. Just like the mountain. His legs were longer than usual for someone his height.

“Here.”

In his hand was the basil plant you had bought a few days ago. It did not look too hot. The leaves had started to hang down and some were already crumpeling.

“Yeah, I should throw it out...”

San was appalled.

“But it’s still alive!! Look!”

He stared at the plant and it became healthy again. With your mouth open you stared at the plant. Its leaves were full and beautifully green again. The smell of basil filled the room.

“So you believe me now?”

The smug smile on his face was almost too much. You nodded reluctantly. San brought the plant back to the kitchen, while you sank down on the bed. There is a deity in my apartment. San sat down on the bed next to you.

“So, what was my wish?”

What dumb shit have I wished for? A smile so mischievous it made the hairs in your neck stand appeared on his face. He leaned closer and whispered in your ear:

“Hot sex.”

Oh fuck. The reason why you had gone to the Candy Shop had been to get something nice for you. It had been so long since you had been with someone. Sex with a good looking guy sounded so good. San was here and he was offering to give you what you wanted. But wait.

“Didn’t I say “a cute boyfriend”?”

San pursed his lips. “Technically, you did. ‘Cute and caring’”

“So, then where is my boyfriend?”

You pushed your jaw forward in a defiant manner. If you were going to get your wish, it had to be the right one. There was no way he could just make a guy appear out of thin air, could he?

“Am I not cute?”

The fake outrage in his voice was indeed cute, but hell would freeze over before you would admit that.

“What? Are you saying you will be my boyfriend?”

He stared at you and you stared back. It was totally absurd. San could not seriously mean he would be your boyfriend, right?

“Yes.”

You honestly did not have a comeback to that. San had said it like he meant it. I guess he didn’t have to make someone appear out of thin air after all. He is already here.

“Can I change my wish?”

You did not look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you. It had been a mistake, actually several mistakes. You should not have gone to the mountain, or cleaned the altar.

“Do you dislike me this much?”

San sounded almost hurt. What had he expected? That you would just lay down and spread your legs?

“You just showed up here, unannounced. What am I supposed to-“

You stopped yourself. Maybe it was not a good idea to yell a god. It was unclear what he could do besides making plants grow and looking good. San shifted beside you and when you looked at him, he lay on your bed.

“What can I do to make you more comfortable?”

He looked up at you. In that position, one arm probed up holding his head, he reminded you of the old timey rich people lounging on chairs.

“Why do you want to grant me a wish anyways?”

He hesitated. You had asked a sensitive question.

“I am in your debt.”

“Then make me rich and rest peacefully that you have settled your debt.”

You turned more towards him. He pressed his lips together into a thin line. You had to be careful now with your tone. One wrong word now could have bad consequences, so you just looked at him.

“I can’t do that.”

He pressed the words out and avoided your eyes. The fabric of the sheets was suddenly much more interesting. You wondered if he was telling the truth. Why was he insisting on this stupid wish you had made.

“What is in it for you? If you tell me honestly, I will consider it.”

His eyes flickered to your face before studying the sheets again.

“I can leave the mountain.”

He told the bed. “No one believes in me anymore...”

You wondered what the consequences of that were, but now was not the time to ask. So if he played house with you he could stay out here, instead of being alone in the forest. You were sick of being alone too. All the times you had felt lonely, may come to an end now, if you just said yes to San.

“If I said yes, what would happen?”

He tried to hide his relief, his hope, but failed. A smile appeared on his face. San sat up and his eyes sparkeled with delight and mischief.

“I would grant the more pressing part of your wish first.”

You wrinkled your brows. The more pressing part? He leaned closer and whispered in a velvety voice.

“You want to be licked, to ride on a big cock and be pounded until you come. That's the pressing part.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Yes, that was exactly what you wanted. In that order. He looked into your eyes. The more you looked at him the more beautiful he became. Just this once you did not want to overthink everything.

“So, what do you say?”

“What will happen after that?” You could feel his breath on your neck. His lips brushed over your skin. You swallowed audibly.

“I will do anything you want me to do.”

To make his point he kissed your neck. Gently sucking on the sensitive skin there. You move your head to grant him better access. His lips on you made your head spin already. Who would it be if they were somewhere else?

“Okay.”

You sighed and bit your lips. It was time to embrace this weird situation and be bold.

“Eat me out, San.”

He groaned against your skin, when you said his name. His lips landed on yours and he wasted no time. His tongue begged for entrance, sliding over your lips. You were not sure what you had expected, but you were surprised by how normal his mouth felt. San was warm and smelled of the forest after rain.

Your hands buried themselves in his long hair. You thought about untying it but it would be better to wait a bit longer. His Hands slipped under the hem of your pajama pants and between your legs. You gasped as his fingers touched your clit and slipped into you briefly.

“Apparently I will have to do a bit more to get you riled up, my love.”

San smirked at you and positioned himself between your legs. He made sure that he had your attention before he untied the fastings of his jacket. He did not wear anything under it so you had an unobscured view of his body; and what a nice body it was. The way his upper body tempered towards his waist was breathtaking. You wanted to touch him, ran your hands over his body. Right now was not the time though.

He pulled down your pants and kissed your thighs. San did not waste time and went straight to the point. He sucked and licked your clit, slowly circling it before flicking it with his tongue. You grabbed his hair and he smirked against your skin. His tongue moved down, ran around your entrance and dipped in briefly before moving up again. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, your moan quietly. You wanted to close your eyes and concentrate on the feeling of tongue flicking against you, but you also wanted to see him. He slowed the pace down and licked your clit. You felt his fingers circling your entrance before pushing in. The two fingers barely met any resistance and after a few more slow movements he pulled out.

He kissed the inside of your thighs and you groaned. That was not where you wanted his mouth to be.

“How about you ride me now?”

He looked up at you expectantly. If you did not know better, you would have thought he was giving you puppy eyes.

“You’re pretty eager.”

It was only half a joke. You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. I am.”

Damn. I guess the immortal god of the mountain is not so selfless after all.

“Lie down.”

He was about to take off the jacket but you stopped him.

“Keep it.”

The way it revealed his chest and abs without being completely shirtless looked very sexy. San lay down on his back and you straddled his hips. The tent in his pants made it very evident how much he wanted this. You ran your hands over his chest and loved how his skin felt. It still seemed surreal that he was there, in your bed. Like a dream. But it was not a dream. He felt as solid and real as one could get. You leaned down to kiss his neck. It was so graceful. This close to him you could see the faint freckles on neck, that made him even prettier. You lightly sucked on the spot midway down his neck. He sighed and goosebumps appeared on his soft skin. You looked at his face to see him looking back at you.

“You’re very pretty.”

There was a part you wanted to make a joke out of it a la “you need to get your eyes checked” but you didn’t. It did not sound like a joke.

“You too, Mr Mountain.”

He smiled at the nickname. His hair was not as neat as earlier. You had tucked on it, while he had eaten you out and now some parts of the hair stood out more. Not many hairs had come loose completely though.

“Can I untie your hair?”

He reached for the tie and released it. How could he look any more stunning? With his long hair spilling over the pillow. He smirked up at you. It was very annoying that San knew how much he affected you.

“Are you motivated enough to ride me now?”

Yes, you were very motivated now. You pulled down his pants. It was going to be very fast, judging by his girth. You aligned yourself above him and let yourself sink down on him. The stretch made you gasp. His hands came to rest on your hips. You could still move freely, so it felt like he needed something to hold on to. You gingerly rocked your hips and heard San sigh beneath you. His fingers pressed into your hips. Moving your hips was the only thing you wanted to do now. You felt so full and so close already. Maybe him between your legs earlier was the cause of that. You leaned back and the changed angle made him press against your g spot. Every move sent waves of pleasure through your body.

San sat up and looked into your eyes. A light blush had appeared on his face. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he closed the distance. The kiss made your heart flutter and clench around him. He kissed down your neck to your chest. Your hand flew to his hair when he took one nipple in his mouth. He sucked and circled it with his tongue.

“Say my name.”

It sounded like a plea. His mouth was on the other nipple now while his hand came up to continue. You moved your hips as much as possible with him sitting up. The light biting and twisting of the nipples send electric shocks to your core.

“Oh, San.”

It felt a bit odd to say that but San hummed against your chest, doubling his efforts. Your hand grabbed his hair tighter and you rock your hips fast. So close. He bit down a bit harder at just the right moment to make the wave of pleasure came crashing down. Without realizing it you muttered his name over and over.

A few more movements and your hips came to a hold. San wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. You sank against him and he held you. Your breathing calmed down as you enjoyed being held. He was still inside you and it felt so intimate that you wanted to lighten the mood with humor.

“So, am I going to birth a tree now?”

San chuckled and kissed your shoulder.

“That’s not how that works.”

You smiled against his shoulder as his hands rubbed your back.

After a quick shower, you and San returned to your bedroom. You put on a t-shirt and sweatpants. San lay on the bed waiting for you. When you looked he spread his arms, waiting for you to fall into his arms. You could not help yourself but smile. He really was cute. You sank into his arms and he kissed the top of your head.

“What you wanna do now?”

You asked his chest. It was nice and warm in his arms. Would it be rude to fall asleep now? Your eyelids felt so heavy, it was hard to keep them open. You were not sure if he ever answered because you drifted off to sleep so fast.

And that is how you got yourself a boyfriend that had been a minor god for some time. The plants in your house never withered and from time to time you would visit your town. The altar was still there, in the middle of the forest, slowly being assimilated by nature, but San always went back to the city with you.

For that one person who forgot, 'San' literally means mountain in Korean XD

I'm willing to write some more episodes in this universe, so if you have a request (idk San meeting your friends for the first time or something like this), send me an ask :))

#candyshop #ksmutclub #8makes1teamnet #Wkcnet #noonasinnetwork #Ateez Fanfic #San Fanfic #Ateez smut #San smut #Kpop Fanfic #Kpop X Reader #Ateez X Reader #san X Reader #Star Writing

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love-and-monsters · 3 years ago

Text

Deluges and Droughts

M water elemental X gn human, 7, 206 words

Your farm is being drowned by a flood, and, desperate to stop it, you recruit the services of a water elemental. But when the tides change, will you be able to help him?

It hadn’t stopped raining for the past eight days. The sky was still thick and gray, with clouds that descended to the treetops. It didn’t fall in a constant barrage, going back and forth between heavy rain and something of a drizzle, but it was nonstop. Even in your house, the air was damp and heavy.

You couldn’t get dry. Every day, you went out, checked your fields, and tried to care for your animals. The ground sloshed under your feet as you walked, muck loose under the grass. Your sheep bleated irritably at you whenever you entered the barn, usually dripping wet. The roof of the barn sagged dangerously in one area, a thick damp patch spreading toward the back. You made an effort to reinforce it, but there wasn’t a lot of chance it would hold. If the barn flooded, you would be in a lot of trouble.

When you woke up to water droplets trickling down your face and water seeping through your floor, you decided to go looking for a water elemental.

You fed your animals in a hurry, then strapped on your most waterproof boots, tugged on a raincoat, and headed out into the fields.

All elementals were tricky to find. They tended not to hang around humans settlements, mostly because they weren’t fans of humans in general. Rarely did they even take on human form. But you needed to find something that would stop the damn weather.

You hiked to the one spot in the fields near your house that would house a water elemental- a lake fed by a massive river. The banks had swollen and overflowed thanks to the abundance of rain, so you had to give it a wide berth. Once you had made it as close to the bank as you felt was safe, you swung your pack off your shoulders and started looking through it.

In your bag, you held what you hoped would be sufficient to summon a water elemental. There was a shell that had been formatted into something like a wind chime, or a bell, an offering of coins that had spend the past three days submerged in brackish water, and a few pieces of sea glass that you had collected from the beach as a child.

Delicately, you approached the edge of the water and placed the sea glass into the waves. Once they had been pulled away from shore, you placed the coins on the bank so the water lapped over them, and held the windchime out until it caught the wind and the soft sound of bells echoed across the water.

You took a deep breath. “You who lives in waves and water, who is one with the sky and sea and storms. Source of all life, I call to you, and request your presence.”

Your voice barely carried over the sound of rain against the lake. Wind whipped stinging cold raindrops against your face. You snuffled against the running of your nose. For several minutes, you stood on the shore of the lake, staring out into the misty silence.

Just as you were ready to assume it hadn’t worked, something out in the lake splashed. You felt your shoulders stiffen, creeping up toward your ears. Cold rain slithered down your back and dripped down your shoulders.

Something in the water splashed again. You squinted out over the lake, trying to make out anything through the haze of mist. As the splashing grew closer, you could see something moving under the water, a dark shape that grew more distinct the closer it got.

Within moments, the shape had approached the shore. It remained in the water for a moment, then the surface rippled and it emerged.

For a moment, its shape was indistinct, like a pillar of water was rising from the lake. Then the water rippled and started to take on a humanoid form. At first, the shape was only vague, like a shadow, then details started to emerge. It stood on the surface of the water as steadily as you were standing on dry land. The water seemed to solidify, not like ice, but like the water was growing thicker and thicker, drawing in tight until the details were evident.

He (he looked like a he) was taller than you, at least six and a half feet tall, with an impressively broad chest. His facial features were surprisingly detailed, from the hooked shape of his nose to the ice-white chips of his eyes. His hair looked like waterfall, rippling down his back and ending in a frothy white cap. He was entirely nude, but with doll anatomy, something you were both grateful for and slightly disappointed by.

“You were calling for me.” His voice had a strange quality to it, like the sound of waves against rocks. It was more intimidating than you’d expected and it sent a shiver wrapping down your spine.

“I did.” Your voice shook, but the water elemental barely seemed to take note of it. He stepped closer to the shore, where only a thin barrier of water kept him from stepping directly on land.

“And what did you summon me for?” the elemental asked. He sounded slightly impatient.

“The rain,” you said. “The land is drowning. It’s been raining nonstop for eight days. It’s destroying everything. I need your help to prevent it.”

The elemental looked at you levelly. He seemed neither surprised, nor concerned. “Yes, it has been raining. My own territory has been expanding thanks to this.” He tilted his head at you. “Did you wish for me to stop the rain?”

You swallowed. “Can you?”

“No.” His voice was cool and unconcerned. Despair rolled through you in a massive wave. “Nor would I if I could. The rain grants me great strength. I can feel it seeping into the land.” He lifted his arms and the mist seemed to thicken around him.

Panic lanced through you, hot and sharp. “Wait!” you said. The elemental looked at you. “What if I can make it worth your while?”

He lowered his hands again. “I would be terribly interested to see how you would do such a thing.”

You took in a deep breath. This plan would work. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. “You gain power based on how much water you have in your… territory, right?” The elemental gave you a skeptical look, but he nodded. “So, obviously, you’re going to want more water in your territory, yes?”

“That would be beneficial to me, yes,” the elemental said. “You are offering to being me water?” He didn’t seem all that impressed.

“Sort of,” you said. “Water elementals can control water, right? If you really wanted to, you would be able to draw it out of the land.”

“Yes,” he said. “Thought it is rarely work the effort. If the water is in my territory, regardless of the form it takes, it adds to my power.”

“Well, if you come to my land, you can have the excess water. It’ll be added to your territory, so you’ll grow more powerful, and I’ll get rid of all the water I don’t need. It’s a win-win.”

The elemental looked at you for a long moment. He seemed to be thinking it over. His form rippled as if he were about to dissolve and your heart sank. Then he smiled wolfishly. “Yes. Your terms are acceptable.”

You sagged in relief. “Good. All right. Then we should start right now.” You started to head back up the bank, realized he wasn’t following you, and stopped. “Are you coming?”

He smiled, like you were being funny in some way you didn’t fully understand. “I require water to travel,” he said.

“It’s pretty wet,” you said. “You can’t travel in the rain or something?”

“There is not enough water in the air to sustain me,” he said. “And the ground would need to be much more saturated than it is for me to walk across it.”

Despite him pointing out problems with your plan, he didn’t seem all that concerned about it. You narrowed your eyes and folded your arms over your chest. “I assume you have some kind of plan?”

The elemental smiled. “Indeed.” He lifted one watery hand and pointed at you. “Humans are made of seventy percent water. Enough water for me to hitch a ride.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “What, you want me to carry you on my back all the way back to the farm?” you were strong, but you weren’t entirely sure if you could carry an entire man on your back over such a long distance.

The elemental’s smile grew wider. “Not precisely. I have an easier method in mind.” He held a hand out to you. “Touch me. You will see.”

That was mysterious, and you weren’t a huge fan of mysterious things. But you had a feeling he wasn’t going along with you unless you did as you were told. You gritted your teeth and placed your hand into his.

It was like you had thrown yourself face-first into the ocean and gone limp. The tide caught you and heaved you back and forth. Water rushed around you, tugging at your limbs almost hard enough to wrench them out of their sockets. As much as you could feel it on the outside of your skin, you could feel a tide pounding against your insides. Your blood pulsed in the same rhythm as the sea, like waves were crashing against the inside of your skin.

Gradually, you became aware of the ground underneath you once again. You were on your knees, sinking into the mud. Rain dripped down the back of your neck and soaked your hair. But within you, there was still that pounding of the tide. Your blood pounded through your veins, rushed in your ears. You were aware of the way it thundered through your veins, like the entirety of the ocean’s power had been tucked under your skin.

You forced your mouth open. “What did you do to me?” It was almost impossible to hear your own voice over the tides of your own body.

The voice didn’t come from outside. It echoed in your head, a rushing sound like a waterfall had learned to speak, like the tides in your body were forming words. Your body is seventy percent water, he repeated. I can stay within the water in you.

You pressed a hand to your chest. The tide still thrummed under your skin, but you were getting more used to it. The pulse was almost comforting, like a second heartbeat. “You’re inside me?”

In a manner of speaking. I am within the water you carry inside you. The rushing sensation within you grew stronger, as if the elemental was doing it deliberately. Now you may carry me back to the land with you. I will emerge, take in the water, and you can carry me back home.

Slowly, you got to your feet. You found yourself swaying involuntarily, moving with the tide inside you. Even though he was no longer speaking, you could feel the elemental lingering in the back of your mind. It was a sensation not unlike the feeling of being watched.

“Comfortable for your trip?” you asked, trying to sound casual. It didn’t work as well as you’d hoped. The tide pulsing inside you made it hard to focus. A sudden wave of amusement hit you, and you almost laughed before you realized that the amusement wasn’t your own. It was his.

You are actually quite comfortable. The tide inside you gave a powerful surge, like the elemental was shifting in some strange way. I have not done this in a very long time. Your body is far better than my last travel partner. They were tight. You are not too cramped and not too large. Cozy. Your blood surged once more and you had to stop moving to reorient yourself.

“Can you try not to move so much? It’s… uncomfortable.” The elemental didn’t say anything, but you felt his answering apology. After allowing your heartbeat to stabilize once more, you headed back home.

You trudged across the flat, open plains. You felt hyperaware of the water against your skin now, like every trickling drop of rain was electrified. The water elemental pounded through your bloodstream, heavy and heady with power. You felt like you could taste the storm as it rolled across the sky.

Something in the back of your mind shifted and your attention refocused. Somehow, you weren’t entirely aware of how, you could feel the water elemental poking around in your head. He seemed to be flipping through your memories with the mild interest you associated with looking through an acquaintance’s photo journal of their vacation.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked out loud. The water elemental spared you only the tiniest flicker of attention before returning to his sifting.

I want to know about the life of my carrier, he said. I know so little about humans. You are fascinating.

“Fascinating as I may be, I don’t appreciate you- hey!” The elemental hovered on an image of you and your ex buried in a particularly heated kiss. “Cut that out!”

Swapping fluids seems to be a particularly intimate form of human communication, the elemental said. There was no mistaking the amusement in his tone. I approve.

“Cut it out!” you protested. The elemental’s amusement became thicker in your head, swirling like some heady storm. Fine. Two could play at this game. He was inside you, his thoughts inside your head. All you had to do was swim against the tide and-

You plunged into his mind like diving into a great ocean. The currents of his thoughts buffeted you, but you were able to turn against it. A memory drifted by you, buoyed on a stream of thought, and you reached for it.

He twisted, curling, a puddle barely big enough to stand in, but he could feel it, the rain and the stream that fed him. Yes, he was here, he was new, but he could grow stronger and powerful-

The storm overhead raged and he raged with it, his surface surging to catch every drop of water. The river that fed him was swollen, overspilling its banks and feeding him in a great, surging wave of power. He could feel it growing stronger, yes, yes, the power, the feeling of becoming greater, stronger-

It was the sun, the blazing heat that was destroying him. He slunk to the depths of his lake, barely able to feel the trickle of his river feeding him. No matter how hard he struggled, he could still feel the pull of each tiny drop being drawn away from him by the sun, a slow death of heat until he was nothing more than a damp patch on the ground-

The sun was hot, but his river was feeding him and the air was thick with delicious humidity. Humans splashed in his shallows. He looked at them curiously, feeling their motions through the water. They played, hands entwined, laughing with delight at the feeling of his water. Delighting in him, in his power. His awareness was drawn to the two humans at the edge of the lake, standing in his shallows, their bodies pressed together, mouths connected. Some strange emotion flared within him, something tender and sad and happy all at once-

Enough! Something slammed into your mind, like you were being violently shoved. You wobbled in place, the unsteadiness in your mind transferring into your body. The water elemental surged within you, twisting and writhing. Stay out!

There was rage in his voice, but it barely managed to conceal his terror. You looking into his mind had scared him- he hadn’t known you could do that. “I could say the same to you,” you replied. The elemental churned inside you for a moment, but you could feel his anger wane.

Very well. Truce. He did the mental equivalent of turning his back on you, deliberately putting his attention somewhere else. You waited for a moment to make sure he wasn’t just trying to get your guard down, then continued walking toward your home.

The ground sloshed under your feet as you entered the outstretches of your land. The fibers of grass were no longer properly holding the ground together, and you could feel everything slipping under you, threatening to trip you up. It was part of the reason you hadn’t been letting your sheep out. The last thing you needed was for one of them to get stuck in the mud and break their leg.

The skies opened up once more as you approached your barn and you picked up the pace, hurrying get inside. The water elemental perked up as the rain drenched you, soaking through your clothes and straight to your skin.

Your sheep bleated anxiously as you stepped into your barn. The damp patch on the roof was still dripping and starting to sag dangerously. Your concern about that, however, paled under the sudden weight of the elemental’s curiosity. What are those!?

“They’re sheep,” you said. “Have you never seen sheep before?”

No. The elemental cautiously started poking at your mind again, shuffling through your memories.

“Hey!” you said. The elemental froze guiltily. “No looking through memories, got it? If you just ask, I’ll tell you.”

The elemental shifted sulkily in the back of your mind for a moment, then stretched out toward you again. What are sheep?

“They’re, uh.” Well, you hadn’t wanted him to poke through your mind, but now that you were actually being questioned, you weren’t sure how to explain sheep. “Uh, they’re animals. They grow wool that I shear and sell and sometimes I butcher them, if they get too old or injured. I take care of them, deliver lambs when it’s lambing season. They’re a lot of work, but it’s better than working in an office or something.” You gave one of the sheep an affectionate pat. It bleated at you. “And they go ‘baah.’”

I am aware. They are doing so right now. Another one of the sheep butted against your hand and gave a low bleat.

The sheep gathered around you, nuzzling and butting at your hands. As much as he was clearly trying to hide it, the elemental was delighted by the sheep. When you brushed your hand along their wool, he could barely suppress his glee.

You spent several moments indulging his curiosity before another groan from the roof drew your attention. A few splatters of water slipped through and splashed on the ground. “Okay. We should actually do what we came here to do. Can you control the water or something?”

Not from in here. Do you have water that I can enter? You snagged one of the basins that you’d been using to collect the dripping water and dragged it a little ways away from the sheep.

“Will this work?”

Well enough. If a bit cramped. Place your hand in the water. You crouched and rested the palm of your hand on the surface of the water. The elemental shifted inside you once more. It was a strange, twisting sensation, and the pull and rock of the tide began to yank at you once more. You closed your eyes, breathing in and out slowly. For a moment, you could feel the elemental pouring himself out of you. Then there was a strange quiet in your body.

Your body was lighter without him inside you. But there was also something strangely empty about it. For some time, you had felt the power of the elemental pulsing inside you. Now there was nothing in its place, and you felt light, but also disconnected. You couldn’t even feel the pulse of your own blood.

“Are you well?” The voice drew you out of your thoughts. The elemental was looking down at you, formed from his knees-up in a bucket of water. It was a little bit of a ridiculous sight.

“I’m okay. Just- I don’t know, it feels a little like when you’ve been straining your muscles for a while, then you stop and you kind of feel all floaty?” The elemental tilted his head to one side, eyes completely blank. “Oh. Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know a lot about that, huh?” You stood up from where you’d fallen on your butt and brushed the dirt off your pants. “What do you need to do now?”

The elemental closed his eyes. “I must gather the water to me. I should be able to collect a great deal of it- possibly enough to stop the oversaturation of the land.” His form wavered and shifted like he was taking in a deep breath.

Your skin started to tingle all over, almost like static electricity. The air felt thick and damp as you tried to pull it into your lungs. Dampness stuck to your skin. It felt like the air itself was growing thicker, like you were trying to breathe underwater. The sheep bleated and shifted frantically.

Just when you were sure the air was about to turn to water and you were going to drown on land, the tension that had been rising in the air popped. Within a second, the air went from nearly oversaturated to bone dry. Your mouth had been open as you tried to suck in breath and you felt the moisture wick itself from your tongue. You choked as your mouth and throat were completely dried. The sheep were shifting in a near panic, crushing up against you.

Something soft and jelly-like hooked itself around your waist and dragged you across the floor, taking you away from the panicked sheep. You fumbled, trying to seize the appendage, but your fingers went right through it. Yelping, you pulled your soaking hands back. It was water, a column of water that had just enough solidity against your skin to pull you around. You followed the column with your eyes. It led back to the water bucket. The elemental was looking back at you, expression placid.

You made an attempt to speak, but your mouth was still completely dry. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth and no matter how much your throat spasmed, you couldn’t swallow.

“Apologies,” the elemental said. “I was only trying to pull water from the air. I didn’t expect it to pull water from you as well. You should probably have kept your mouth closed.” You were too busy trying to get your mouth to not feel like you’d been chewing sand to replay. “Here. Drink.”

You refocused on him. He had changed position in the bucket, turned fully toward you and lowered, like he was kneeling. His hands were out in front of him, cupped around a drop of water. It was clearly differentiated from the water of his hands, glistening like an oversized dewdrop.

It was fundamentally pretty weird, but you were too thirsty to bother with any sort of discomfort. You bent your head forward and slurped the water up from his palms. It was ice cold and it tasted crystalline and sweet, better than any other water you’d ever tasted. Whether that was just due to how thirsty you were or if he had some sort of way of making water taste delicious, you didn’t know.

Once you had drunken your fill, the elementa withdrew his hands. “I pulled as much water from the land as I could. I will guarantee nothing, but I should have taken enough to prevent any more flooding. Possibly even enough to lessen the storms.”

You turned to look at your leaking roof. The damp patch was completely gone, dry as if it had never been there. The roof still sagged alarmingly, but that was something you could fix. Peeking out the barn door showed that the sky had lightened considerably. There was even sunlight peeking through a few tiny gaps.

“Thank you,” you said. The elemental looked away from you, one of his shoulders rising and falling in a smooth shrug.

“It was a beneficial arrangement for the both of us. There is no need to thank me.” His voice was oddly reedy, a quieter trickle of water than the great rushing noise that his voice usually was.

“Still. I’m grateful.” You tilted your head in a gesture of appreciation. The water elemental made a noise similar to a grunt. “Give me a few minutes to inspect everything.”

He rolled his eyes, but also waved a hand dismissively. You took that as a sign to leave and hurried outside.

The fields outside were firm under your feet as you ran toward your house. Even the air was free from the oppressive mugginess that had surrounded you for over a week. It was easier to breathe.

A quick jog around your property revealed that the awful dampness had receded and everything felt much clearer than before. The worry that had been resting in your chest for the past few days lessened.

When you returned to the barn, the elemental was crouched in the bucket, holding his hands out to the sheep. They appeared to be biting and snapping at his hands, fighting for the best position. A snap of alarm went through you. “Hey! Back up!” You clapped your hands and the sheep scattered obediently.

The elemental straightened back up. “They aren’t harming me. I believe they were thirsty.”

“Yeah, they’ve got water buckets,” you said. The elemental turned his attention to you as you approached. “Ready to go home?”

“I am. Brace yourself. This will feel… more than before.” He extended his hands toward you as you reached back toward him.

The instant your fingers came in contact with his, you were hit once more by the sensation of a powerful wave crashing over you. This time, you were braced for the sensation. It didn’t knock you on your ass, but you felt the power.

It was stronger than before, the pounding of water in your veins. The elemental surged in the back of your mind. Pressure pounded against the inside of your skin, thundered in your ears.

Move with the tide. You are fighting it. The elemental’s voice sounded in the back of your mind, above the pounding waves. You relaxed, letting your hackles drop. The water pulled you along and, for a moment, you felt that you were going to drown. Then the tide calmed and you found yourself drifting, pulled gently by the water.

You opened your eyes. The sheep had scattered back, giving you a wide berth. The elemental’s thought surged in the back of your mind, a sudden and intense urge to pet them.

You laughed and gave the sheep affectionate pats as you headed out of the barn. “You know, you can come back and pet them any time you want.”

The elemental shifted in the back of your mind, disgruntled and a little embarrassed at being caught. I cannot. This is outside my territory and I cannot be brought here without being carried.

“Oh.” The disappointment you felt was surprisingly keen. You felt the elemental shifting in your mind, like he was trying not to look at your feelings. Embarrassed that your thoughts had an audience, you distracted yourself by trudging across the land.

You were back at the edge of the lake sooner than you’d anticipated. The elemental surged with excitement at being back in his home territory. You could feel the boundary in your own body, like a massive case of the warm fuzzies. It almost made you giggle, like being tickled from the inside out.

The edge of the lake lapped over your feet as you approached. You crouched and placed your hands beneath the surface of the water. This time, however, the elemental didn’t come pouring out of you. He hesitated, churning beneath your skin. you could feel his longing to go home war with some strange other desire that you couldn’t place.

“Don’t you want to leave?” you asked, keeping your voice as gentle as possible.

Yes. I am merely making sure that I don’t pull the water out of your body when I leave. His statement would have been more intimidating if you hadn’t been able to feel how flustered he was.

“You didn’t have to do that before,” you teased. The elemental only got more flustered, twisting within you like a cyclone.

I am leaving. Again came that strange pouring sensation and you fell back on your rear in the mud. The elemental rose out of the water in front of you. He looked more solid than he had before, his hair billowing around him in misty waves.

“Okay,” you said, standing up and brushing your pants off once more. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I suppose it is,” the elemental said. Despite being composed entirely of water, he managed to look as stiff as a board as he spoke to you. “If you ever wish to summon me again, simply place you hand in the water and call for me. I will come.”

“I don’t know your name,” you said. The elemental shrugged.

“Elementals rarely take names. If you wish for something to call me, pick anything. I’ll be fine with it.”

You considered for a moment. “Cerulean,” you said. “I’ll call you Cerulean.” He shrugged.

“If that is what you wish to call me.” His voice sounded mostly even, but he had been in your head and you had been in his and he couldn’t completely hide his pleased embarrassment from you. “Farewell, human.”

With that, he dissolved into the water. You looked out over the surface of the water for a moment, feeling the cool mist of rain on your skin, then you turned around and returned home.

You had planned to visit him sooner, but it ended up being over a month before you went back to the lake. Life was busy as ever, and the weather had one-eightied so sharply that walking to the lake had been profoundly unappealing. It was hot, the sort of heat that made you think crawling into an oven might be the cooler option.

When you hit the third day of drought warnings, you decided to go see Cerulean. Just out of concern. After filling two massive canteens with cold water and strapping them to your thighs, you headed out.

Your house was well-watered, thanks to an underground reservoir, so the drought wasn’t affecting you all that much. But you’d heard that several rivers had dropped precipitously in level, and your mind kept wandering back to the image Cerulean had inadvertently showed you- the one where he struggled in the blazing heat, in a tiny puddle, feeling himself drawn away bit by bit.

The lake had receded. The edge of the lake that you’d stood upon to summon Cerulean for the first time was dry as a bone. The edge of the water, several feet away, was murky with muck and silt. You walked closer and dipped your hand beneath the surface.

“Cerulean?” The water was barely cool to the touch. Sweat dripped down your back as you bent forward. “Cerulean!”

There was silence. Panic flickered in your chest. “Come on, where are you?” You unhooked one of the canteens from your side and dumped the water into the lake. The water rippled. Some distance away, the surface of the lake shifted.

Hope sparked in your chest. “Cerulean!” You dumped the other canteen and plunged your hand back under the water. “Can you hear me?”

The water underneath your hand surged, reaching up until it was encasing your forearm. Slowly, as though it was taking a monumental effort, the water shifted and formed Cerulean’s torso.

“It’s you again,” he said. His form wavered, threatening to fall apart. “I’m afraid if you need my help, I am not in the right condition to do so.”

“I came here because I thought you might need my help!” you said. “Are you okay? The lake looks really low. And the river…” The usual flowing water that fed into the lake was barely more than a trickle.

Cerulean pulled his form further together, rising out of the water to his knees. “I have been… I suppose the human term for it would be asleep? It conserves my energy, but I am not aware of the world around me.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you said. “Mostly okay, anyway. I was worried about you, with the drought.”

“Is that why you brought water with you?” he asked, gesturing to the empty canteens.

“I thought, maybe if the lake levels dropped enough, these might help.”

“It would take monumental effort for a human to maintain the lake in the middle of a drought,” Cerulean said dismissively. “Especially considering your own water needs.”

“I’ve got enough water,” you said. “But the lake looks bad.” It had lost at least half its volume since the rains had stopped.

“I have had worse,” Cerulean said.

“They’re not predicting rain for at least another week,” you said. “And that’s only going to be a drizzle, probably. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“There is little I can do about it either way,” Cerulean said with a flowing shrug. “If there is a drought, there is a drought.”

“What happens if the lake totally dries up?” you asked.

“I die,” Cerulean said. “In a manner of speaking. I will evaporate. Eventually I will reconstitute, but I will lack my memories.”

“So, you’ll forget me?” you asked.

“I will forget everything,” Cerulean said. “That includes you, yes.” He shifted in the water, his form rippling. “This upsets you?”

“A little,” you said.

Cerulean looked as though he didn’t know how to feel about that. His expression rippled, facial features dissolving before he managed to reform them. “Then I will endeavor to remain here,” he said. “Though I have little control over it.”

“Is there a way you could get to a more secure location?” you asked. “Somewhere with more water?”

“If there was another lake or pond of some sort that was not already occupied by a water elemental, it would be possible for me to move there. But there are no areas close by that are suitable.”

“You would know if there were other elementals nearby?” you asked.

“I would sense it,” Cerulean confirmed. “We can tell when we cross into another’s territory, and we can sense where our own territory boundaries end.”

“There weren’t any on my land, were there?” you asked.

“No. I did not sense any when I was there. Though I was not particularly looking hard for anything.”

You considered that for a moment. “Would the lake have to be above ground?”

Cerulean gave you a funny look. “No. Any particularly large body of water would work.”

“Okay. Well. If you’re okay with it, I might have somewhere in mind.”

It took some convincing to let Cerulean come check out the underground reservoir. He was reluctant to leave his home, especially when he was in such a vulnerable state. Eventually, however, you pointed out that there was no harm in just taking a look at it.

“If it will make you happy,” he finally sighed. He poured himself into you again. This time, it no longer felt like an overwhelming wave of power. It was weak, barely enough to make your blood pound. Worry crawled through you at how weak he was.

Your worry is irritating, Cerulean said in your mind. You felt a little embarrassed at the intrusion, but your concern overpowered that.

“Let me worry a little bit. You’re not used to someone being worried over you, huh?” you said. Cerulean bristled in the back of your mind.

No. Elementals are solitary by nature. But you could feel his mind in yours and, as much as he tried to hid it, you could feel that he was pleased someone was caring for him.

You trudged across the land until you got into your house. Cerulean’s attention shifted to the sheep with interest. “We can look at them in a bit,” you said. His attention snapped away again and there was a swell of irritation and poorly hidden embarrassment.

There was a well not too far from your house that was also attached to the reservoir, and that seemed to be the easiest way for him to get to it. You carefully filled the bucket and pulled it up. “You can get in the bucket, and then I can lower you to check it out. Will you need help getting back up?”

No. I will find my own way out. There are many connections to other areas. Cerulean flowed away from you. The water in the bucket rippled and shifted as he entered. You replaced the bucket on the hook and cranked the winch until the bucket had vanished with a quiet splash.

You sat by the edge of the well, swinging your legs. The minutes ticked on as you waited for him to return. By the time thirty minutes had passed, you were starting to get nervous. Could he actually get out on his own, or was he just being overconfident? How would you even get him back out?

Just when you were starting to consider actually getting in the well, your sheep set up a bleating alarm. You scrambled to your feet and bolted toward your barn.

It took you a moment to discover the source of the alarm. One of the spigots had turned itself on and was gushing water onto the ground. Your sheep bleated and skittered away from it. Grimacing at the interruption, you stalked over and tried to twist the spigot back off.

It refused to turn, no matter how much force you tried to put into it. Water splattered at the ground, forming a puddle that soaked your toes. You grimaced. God dammit, you couldn’t afford to be wasting water.

Just as you were about to go find some tools to shut the water off, a familiar form emerged from the water. Cerulean gazed steadily at you, a faint smile gracing his face. He looked far stronger than he had at the lake. His hair was a waterfall behind him and his form was so solid it was hard to see through.

“I thought it was connected to your house,” he said. “It took me some time to fond the correct pipes.” One of the sheep cautiously stepped closer to him and he offered a watery hand. “The reservoir is much larger than I anticipated. It descends a great deal underground and is fed by multiple rivers. Even with water being drawn out of it, the whole thing dwarfs my lake.”

“Then it works for you?” you asked. Cerulean smiled.

“It is a far better territory than my old one, even if there were not a drought.” Cerulean hesitated for a moment. “You would be all right with me taking up residence here?”

“It’s mutually beneficial, isn’t it?” you said. “You have a safe location from the drought, and I’ve got someone who can help out my farm if the rains come back.”

Cerulean gave a small, soft smile. “Mutually beneficial. Yes.”

Weeks passed and you got used to his presence on the farm. It wasn’t uncommon for one of your taps to turn itself on and for Cerulean to appear in your sink or tub or wherever he felt like turning up. Eventually, his presence became a near-constant thing. He would assist on the farm, keep you company in the evenings, and even managed to be good enough at math to help you with your taxes, which was certainly not something you were expecting.

A couple of months after he had come to the farm, you returned home and sank onto your couch. Cerulean peered at you from the kitchen. “Are you well?”

“Sore. Ugh, my muscles are killing me. I don’t know what I did, but I think something happened to my back.” You lay on your stomach, groaning as your back muscles strained and protested. “I’m not moving from this couch.”

Cerulean slipped closer to you. “Would you like some help?”

You opened one of your eyes. “You can help with this?”

Cerulean answered by flowing his shape over you. It was cool for a moment, then it warmed until it was pleasantly heated against your skin. Then the water started to move, currents buffeting your muscles like a massage.

You let out a low groan. “Oh, that’s so good. Thank you, thank you.” your mind hazed with pleasure as you drifted into a state where the only thing present was the feeling of your sore muscles being soothed.

“I miss you,” you murmured absently. Cerulean paused and you whined in displeasure.

“I’m right here,” Cerulean said, sounding more amused than annoyed.

“I know, but- you remember when you were in my head? I miss that. It was… nice.” You felt relaxed, so relaxed that you were no longer able to guard the words coming from your mouth. “I could feel what it was like to be you for a little bit.”

Cerulean’s massage started again. “You enjoyed that?” There was a long pause. “I enjoyed it as well.”

“Maybe we can do it again sometime,” you said.

Cerulean was quiet for a moment longer. “If we are thinking of experiences we would like to try,” he said slowly, “perhaps there is something else we can try. In the show we watched the other day, some humans did something I was interested in.”

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Yeah? What was it?”

Cerulean leaned forward, tilting his head and his mouth pressed to yours. It was cool and strangely textured, but it tasted sweet and bright as spring water and it made your stomach flutter.

“Do you- Do you know what that means?” you asked as soon as his mouth broke away from his. Cerulean couldn’t blush, but you saw tiny cyclones swirling inside him that indicated he was flustered.

“It’s a gesture of affection,” he murmured. “Between humans who are living together. And it often leads to other things, that often occur between humans who are close.” He leaned his head close to yours again. “I enjoy spending time with you. I feel close to you. And it would be mutually beneficial.”

His tone became more flustered the longer he spoke. Perhaps if you hadn’t been in his head, you would have believed it was just for some passing curiosity. But you knew the look in his eyes, could detect how flustered he was and how much he wanted this. And you had to be honest: you wanted it too.

“Mutually beneficial, huh?” you said, voice teasing. “Well, if it’s mutually beneficial, then why not?”

As Cerulean’s form shifted and flowed over you, trying to cover your body, you murmured a quiet, “I love you.” He didn’t respond, but you knew he had heard you. And he would say it back when he was ready.

For now, you were just happy to have him with you.

#exophilia #monsterxhuman #monster boyriend #water elemental #monster lover #my writing #OC

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indianamoonshine · 4 years ago

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c h a p t e r | i

summary: every summer you work on your father's strawberry farm with your three sisters. it's a way to take a break from the big city but summers in the midwest are hot and they linger. this year, your father's old and mysterious friend shows up to stay on your land for a reason yet to be determined. din djarin seems dangerous, but kind enough, and the two of you quickly become...well, let's fact it...smitten.

rating: m (18+) for future and explicit sexual content.

author's note: reader is well over eighteen for obvious reasons. i won't ever go into physical detail about the reader's appearance because we include everyone. this fic is pretty much a mix between pride & prejudice and call me by your name except without the und*rage crap we do not condone. so, without further ado, here's an aesthetically pleasing fanfic.

the moment din djarin laid eyes on you he knew he was a dead man.

at first, his view of you had been obstructed because you'd opened every door and window in the house. june in the midwest sometimes required such nuisances, so all of the curtains billowing in the breeze prevented him from looking upon you.

you were also on the couch, but he hadn't known that until you lifted a hand - soft as a dove's - from the back of the sofa. you played with the light between your fingers, shielding its dazzling rays from your eyes, just before setting it down again. your hands were so small (smaller than his anyway) and gentle. he imagined how foreign your skin would feel in warm contrast to his; how your fingers would feel intertwined with his calloused ones, which had done enough work throughout the years to be mistaken for a beggar’s. within the first moment, he saw you as flawless.

your father had not stopped for breath since din arrived, lamenting about the farm or discussing the layout of the home with an eagerness din had yet to match. he would've initially been interested in the history of the farm or how many sprawling acres rolled endlessly before them, but his eyes couldn't leave your hand.

you must've been asleep - napping in the embrace of the sun - because as soon as your father drew breath upon entering the living room, your voice tickled din's ears for the first time. sweet as music.

"dad? is that you?"

din couldn't help but blink at the sound of your voice. it seemed unnatural, like one hears in dreams or spiritual awakenings. he manages to compose himself at your father's side, straightening his posture to err on the side of caution.

your father exclaims with a joyful "ah!" and then introduces you by name.

"my daughter. one of them, anyway. she and the three eldest help during the summer," he had said, and then turned to the bay windows to go on about the view.

but you meet din's eyes, rested and glimmering with curiosity, while your father droned on in the background. you reach out a hand - the one he'd thought of holding - to shake.

he does. and it's every bit as beautiful as he knew it'd be.

"how do you do?" you give him a polite and pretty smile. if he hadn't known any better, you bat your eyelashes for good measure.

your father's tour continues but din can't stop thinking about the way your skirt rose to your thighs as you stretched awake.

|||

you were lying if you said you didn't think about him for the rest of the day.

you weren't the only one. your sisters - all three of them - had also met the mysterious din djarin.

"who is he?" charlotte asked while you congregated at the nearby pond. it was a lovely place, nestled within the thick of the woods and bursting with greenery. flowers of every kind blossomed around you and scents the air with a sweetness.

rhea lays in the shade of a peach tree. "one of dad's old friends," she says. she waves herself with a floral paper fan she'd gotten from chinatown while visiting you in new york.

"but why is he here?"

madeline, who paints with her watercolors, pipes in. "i heard he got into some trouble with the law and now he's in hiding."

you roll your eyes with a scoff, lounging in the grass and watching the clouds in the bright, blue sky. "madeline, that's absurd."

rhea (who is the oldest and most pragmatic) surprises you when she shrugs her shoulders. "i don't know. he looks likes a bad boy..."

you recall the way his jaw clenched as you introduced yourself - his neck was tempting. his skin glowed with a radiant hue in the sunlight and his eyes shone with an aura of broodiness. he was very austenian.

"boy is hardly the word," you correct.

charlotte, being the flirt, wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. she swims in the pond, hair wet and fanning against the water. she sinks lowly for dramatic effect. "how right you are."

"trouble or not, he was a perfect gentleman." rhea sighs and skims the water with her forefinger. "either way, he's easy on the eyes so i don't mind having him around."

easy on the eyes was putting it mildly. you wouldn't say that to the girls though; they had a habit of teasing when you showed interest in anyone attainable let alone a man decades older than you.

"don't do anything stupid, charlotte." madeline dips her paintbrush into her mason jar full of pond water.

charlotte huffs and flips her hair from her shoulder. it makes a splash, rippling the water as a result. "why not? we're all of legal age."

"he's dad's friend and a guest," you remind her, tearing your gaze away from the clouds.

the middle child lets out a pathetic whimper. "you guys are no fun," she groans.

|||

it was a busy season on the farm.

strawberries were ready to be picked by mid june and there was a three week window to do it. harvesting wasn't easy and it took a lot of man work. hands went numb, skin grew calloused. the sun that beat down on the fields was only manageable by the sprinklers that went off every blessed-ed fifteen minutes. during a drought, it was even worse.

the employees picked from seven in the morning until five in the evening. your father was adamant that breaks be plenty and pay be as prosperous as he could afford, but a strawberry farm wasn't a fortune five hundred company. he did what he could to provide the families with some semblance worthy enough to continue, and so every year he threw a dinner party.

it was always a lovely occasion, brimming with delectable treats and savory entrees. candles were aflame, lanterns lit up the pathway that lead to the entrance of the home and then the land leading into the woods. as a child, the dinner party was as exciting as a birthday. it was a night to look forward to all year long, sharing time with family and friends and gorging yourself on food you wouldn't eat any other friday of the week.

your sisters loved it too, mostly because they enjoyed the promise of gossip that poured from the mouths of guests like the wine served. and now that din djarin - a stranger, in all respects of the word - was attending an annual dinner that's managed to keep as tradition for years, gossip would surely be abundant as the wine itself.

guests arrived by the hour until the clock struck seven. the evening was crisp but warm enough to be comfortable without a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. the rock doves sung loudly to declare that sunset had begun, a few rogue and early lightning bugs blinking rhythmically. children of the employees ran throughout the fields bare footed and chanting taunts to their friends as their parents chattered among themselves.

home. here is home.

while the party had already begun (officially, at least), dinner hadn't yet been served. admittingly, you were a bit behind schedule, but you worked quickly to finish setting the tables. the theme was simple; linen napkins and wildflowers in random antique vases you found in your basement. the lilacs you'd picked from their bushes were already beginning to limp but you hoped no one would notice.

you hum when you work. whether it be intentional or not you find your lips buzzing with a tune plucked subconsciously from your brain as your hands busy themselves. you straighten the tablecloths, fill the vases with water, and set the silverware in their particular order. needless to say, you had a tendency to get lost in your own little world. so when a hand gently tapped you on the shoulder, you spun around with a shriek.

din djarin - man of the hour - is smirking handsomely at you, hands fiddling with a depressed looking lilac. you place a palm against your heart and count its beats. too many.

"mister djarin," you sigh out. "you scared me."

he lets out a breathy chuckle, hands running through his wavy locks. "i see that. i'm sorry, but i was just wondering if you'd like some help."

his voice...oh, stars and garters. it was so rough but tender - like a steak. you cock an eyebrow at how strange the comparison is but convince yourself it didn't matter. still, you're blushing from the jump so you duck your head from his gaze.

"there's not much left to do," you admit, turning back to the table. you spread your hands against the tablecloth to ward off any wrinkles. "you can double check if i missed any forks, i suppose. i have a tendency to do that."

din hums in his throat and nods a little. "sure," he says, moving to the first setting. his eyes scan along the silverware carefully. "where are your sisters? they don't help, huh?"

"they're better at entertaining," you say truthfully. "i volunteer to take care of the dinner part...as long as i don't have to socialize as much i'm content."

it was true. it's not that you had an aversion to people in general, but you tried to avoid conversation whenever possible - it wasn't your strong suit. you could get away with it when need be but you found it took too much energy to pretend to enjoy conversation about the weather or politics.

"i understand," din nods. he straightens a spoon with the nudge of his finger. "i find myself to be the same way."

there's an awkward silence between the two of you. you didn't know how to respond. while you weren't good at social situations in general, you found it natural to feign interest in subjects bland enough to circumvent discomfort...but you felt the need to impress him.

"so you'll be staying with us this summer then?" you decide, falling short. how stupid.

din nods swiftly. "yeah. in one of the cabins."

the cabins were located at various points of the land your father owned. in order to get there, one usually took an ATV or walked if the going gets tough. you preferred to stroll along the river, but your sisters liked riding the four wheelers or their bikes.

"which one?" you ask, tone mindless.

din's finished with double checking your work. he pulls out a chair - an old, wooden antique - and sits down upon it with caution. you stifle a laugh and, if he notices, he doesn't say anything. he'd soon learn that everything here was old but sturdier than they looked. you wish you could say it was for aesthetic purposes but it was more convenient than anything.

"the one closest to the pond," din replies lowly.

you notice how his eyes survey your form and how intimate it was. he was studying you but for whatever reason you couldn't be sure. you try to shake away the idea that he could be (dare you say?) pining over you. how silly. like you told charlotte: din djarin was off limis.

that was the end of it.

you find yourself blushing again so you hide your face. "that's my favorite one," you tell him honestly. "i like the view."

din smiles in agreement. "so do i."

if you weren't so heated with frustration, you would've called him out on the implication (as out of character for you it may be). then again, you found yourself weakened by the mere presence of this man. it wasn't unlike you, per say; you were naturally timid but there was an eagerness to his charm that you weren't familiar with. guys your age were so sure of themselves but it was almost always under false pretenses. this man however...well, he was a man and that was intimidating.

fine. it was hot.

you clear your throat in an effort to regain a semblance of poise. this summer had already proven to be laborious in a way you hadn't expected.

#DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THIS TOOK TO TYPE OUT #din djarin x reader #din x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mw1 #strawberryfic

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aritany · 4 years ago

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When Magic Died

Once upon a time, in a land far beyond the western horizon, there was an apprentice who was very bored. She lived in a fine palace, and was studying magic, her greatest passion, but her master was an inept and bumbling old man who couldn't tell one end of a wand from the other, and so she grew terribly disinterested with her daily duties, which included tending to the last bit of live magic in the kingdom and arguing with her greatest enemy, the young and pompous palace academic.

On one such day, shut up in the magician's tower and feeding the magic, the academic came knocking, thoroughly spoiling an otherwise pleasant morning. The two engaged in particularly feisty banter, this time about whether or not the academic should pursue a courtship with a maiden of the town, as his parents had suggested. This was, unfortunately, an ongoing discussion—the apprentice always asked about the progress of the courtship in order to poke holes in his unfaltering ego, and his retort tended to be that at least he had prospects—but on this day the argument went too far. Upon his suggestion that her general prickliness would subject her to a long and lonely life of her own doing, the apprentice quickly stood, furious, accidentally knocking over the cage in which the magic resided, and when the cage door flung open, the magic within was extinguished.

The apprentice and the academic looked at each other, horrified. Then the academic said, "Not it," and disappeared down the spiral staircase. Coward that he was.

The general uproar in the court over the matter lasted several days and nights, in which the apprentice bit her fingernails and hoped for a swift and painless death. However, the truth eventually came out: that it had been an accident, and that the apprentice and academic were to blame—much to the chagrin of the academic, who claimed innocence.

Punishment, it was determined, was only fair, and so the apprentice and the academic were turned away from the castle and sent on a quest to discover a new source of magic. (After all, a kingdom without magic is sure to crumble to ruin.) They were given provisions for two fortnights, and a protector to ensure their safety on the journey, who, incidentally, was a total stud, though he refused to speak at all, and so the two enemies set out on their journey in smouldering silence. Neither the apprentice or the academic had ever set foot outside the borders of the kingdom, and so both were begrudgingly impressed by the beauty the land had to offer, and they travelled through the day and well into the evening before coming to a stop.

On the first night, the apprentice was troubled by a dream where she stood in a gulley with powerful waterfalls crashing down around her, coloured hazy purples and dreamy blues. She was certain she had been there before, and it was upon waking that she realized the substance of the falls was not water, but magic.

"You know everything, don't you?" She asked of the academic once they were on the road for the day.

"Well," replied the academic, "no, not really. My specialties are in the history of the land, in strategy, and in speculative sciences."

"Cool," said she. "So you know everything."

He grimaced.

"Do you know of a place with many waterfalls?" she asked. "Preferably close by."

The academic thought for a moment, then pulled out a book—as he was wont to do—and rifled through the pages until he found an illustration of the very same gulley the apprentice had dreamed of, located, according to the book, two weeks travel to the south.

She explained her dream, and though the academic was skeptical, it seemed as good of a lead as any, and so they set off to the south, the academic muttering about dreams and psychic premonitions the whole way.

"I used to be a psychic," said the protector, speaking for the first time, and then, when the apprentice and academic looked up in surprise, refused to say anything more.

The journey went without a hitch for three days and three nights, until the three travellers came to a deep valley carved into the countryside, with steep walls impossible to climb down.

"You're a magician," said the academic to the apprentice, "magic us over."

"I'm not a magician," said the apprentice, "I'm an apprentice. And there's no magic, anyway. We killed it."

"You killed it."

"We killed it together."

And so the two engaged in one of their usual squabbles, until the protector grew weary of their bickering and held up a hand. "We'll rappel."

They looked up at him.

"I used to be a rope maker," he explained.

"I thought you used to be a psychic," the academic retorted.

The protector refused to say anything more.

And so, using the fibers of nearby crops, the protector instructed the academic and apprentice on how to make rope, and by nightfall, they had length enough to rappel down into the ravine, where they found a twisty river.

They walked south along the bank of the river, and after a day of their presence, naiads emerged in the water, startling the apprentice.

They grinned their watery grins, and when she had recovered her composure, she said, "We're looking for magic. Do you know where the magic is?"

The naiads grinned, said nothing, and disappeared.

"Bold of you to assume they speak the language." said the academic.

"I didn't hear you coming up with any clever solutions."

The academic launched into a lengthy speech about the history of naiads, which only the protector listened to.

After another day and night, the ravine twisted to the west, and so the group was able to climb up the side of the gulley without much difficulty, emerging into a barren wasteland.

"Oh my," said the apprentice.

"This looks homey." said the academic.

The protector bent over and rubbed dirt between his fingers. "There was a drought."

The academic raised an eyebrow.

"What?" the protector straightened. "I used to work in agriculture."

As they picked their way across the desolate arena, the academic needled the protector with a thousand questions about his elusive past, and the protector refused to say anything at all.

Eventually, the foothills rose up in front of them, and as they turned the corner, their first hint of danger leapt out from behind a rock, snarling and spitting, fur black as night, eyes red as blood.

The apprentice yanked the academic out of the way, and the protector knocked the beast with his staff, and when it came back, yowling and furious, he threw a dart at it, and it collapsed.

There was a moment of silence.

"Well," said the academic to the apprentice, shaken, "you've saved my life."

"Yes," replied the apprentice. "I imagine you would have done the same thing."

So they shook hands and decided to be friends moving forward, and the protector rolled his eyes and set to work hacking the beast to bits. An hour later, he'd built a fire and was roasting the animal, much to the surprise of the others.

"What?" said the protector. "I used to be a butcher."

The academic and the apprentice exchanged a bemused smile.

The meat was good, and the three went to bed that night sated for the first time in many days.

That night, the apprentice dreamt again of the waterfalls and woke with a burning against her ribs, and they pressed onwards into the hills, encountering more beasts, who mostly left them alone, keening from the shadows.

The further they got from the kingdom, the more jumpy the protector became, much to the amusement of the apprentice and alarm of the academic.

“What is magic, anyway?” the academic asked, “and how will we know we’ve found it?”

The apprentice considered. She said, “we’ll know when we’ve found it. Magic feels like being alive.”

The academic wrinkled his nose. “That makes no sense.”

She turned, one eyebrow raised. “Is it supposed to make sense?”

The academic opened his mouth as if to argue, but then remembered their newfound friendship, and closed it promptly.

The protector noticed this. “Why,” he asked, “did you both fight so passionately? Is it due to some secret love?”

The apprentice wrinkled her nose. “Gross. No. I would rather spend my days locked in a tower alone.” Then, at the stunned expression from the academic, hastily added, “No offence, but I do not think I was built for romantic love.”

“None taken,” he said, then added, “aren’t you technically studying to be locked in a tower alone?”

“By choice.” she said primly.

“The chemical formula for love is very complicated, anyway.” said the protector. “I would think one would be better off without it, as it does tend to interfere with many things.”

“How do you know about the chemical formula for love?” asked the apprentice, as her studies in magic had covered the concept and she knew it to be difficult.

"I used to be an alchemist," said the protector, to which the apprentice and academic said nothing, because at this point, what even.

The apprentice lagged behind the two, mulling over her recent confession. It was not one she had ever spoken aloud, but now that she had, she was quite pleased with it.

Ahead, as they walked, the protector glanced over at the academic.

"Wanna see my darts?" he asked.

The academic stared.

"They're my most deadly weapons."

The academic said, "Sure."

And so the protector unrolled a leather scroll, which nested thirteen beautiful poisoned darts.

"Thirteen is a strange number," said the academic, to which the protector replied, "There used to be fourteen."

"Fourteen is a strange number," said the academic, to which the protector replied, "harrumph."

On their tenth day of travel, they encountered a toll bridge, but whatever had once haunted it had long since absconded and taken the water with it, the ground left cracked and dusty.

The apprentice began to worry that an area so barren could not possibly host such a collection of waterfalls as she had dreamed of.

Creatures circled their campsite at night, eyes in the dark, but the protector kept them away with the glint of his blade clearly visible, which made the academic avert his eyes.

On their eleventh day, they encountered the remains of an abandoned village, and they were able to enclose themselves in what had once been a tavern to shelter from the wind and discuss their plans around a handmade fire.

“What happens if we never find the magic?” The apprentice asked.

The academic glanced at the protector and then away. “I think the instructions were clear. We stay away until we find it.”

“Tough deal for you.” The apprentice said to the protector. “You did nothing wrong and you still had to leave everything behind when there’s no guarantee of return.”

The protector made eye contact with the crackling flames and cleared his throat. “I had nothing to leave behind.”

“I would argue that I also did nothing wrong.” said the academic, without much conviction.

The apprentice raised her eyebrows. “You provoked me.”

“Why was there so little magic left, anyway?” asked the protector.

“Magicians used to be able to conjure magic themselves.” the academic replied. “But that’s a lost art.”

“I wish it wasn’t.” The apprentice looked glumly down at her shoes. “That way I wouldn’t be training to be a hired recluse.”

“I’ve heard the king would have been happy to announce the death of magic.” The academic sighed. “It was the council that suggested this quest.”

The protector’s expression shifted slightly.

“Really?” The apprentice, who did not notice this, straightened. “What sort of king wouldn’t want magic?”

The protector continued to stare into the fire and said nothing at all. The academic watched him very carefully.

“Well,” said the apprentice, “at least we have each other, so we won’t be lonely.”

So on they travelled, the apprentice ever plagued by the same dream of rushing waterfalls. She was troubled by an increasingly sharp pain in her chest, just behind her sternum, and grew worried that they would never find the magic they were in search of.

On their fifteenth day of travel, their water supply began to run short. The academic consulted his book and consulted the maps, and declared that they would arrive at the waterfalls the very next day.

The apprentice looked at the dust on the ground, and worried.

That night, the academic could not sleep, and so he stood under a large tree that spread out wide towards the stars and thought about death.

The protector woke, too, and joined him.

“I am worried,” said the academic, after some minutes of companionable silence, “that we will not find what we are looking for.”

“I swear on my sword that I will help you find it.” Said the protector, watching the academic carefully. “Your success will be my greatest joy.”

“That’s very interesting,” said the academic, “considering you’re planning on killing us both.”

There was a moment of stunned silence in which the protector looked far up into the night sky. Then he said, “you really do know everything.”

“No,” said the academic, “it just wasn’t that hard to figure out. Why would someone with such a wide range of skills and backgrounds be sent on an impossible quest with two nobodies? I mean, fourteen darts? The standard number for anything is a dozen.”

The protector said, “I liked thinking that you know everything better.”

The academic said, “Why haven’t you done it yet?”

“It would seem,” said the protector, drawing a dagger—the academic did not flinch—“that my orders do not align with my heart.”

Then he knelt and set the dagger at the academic’s feet.

“Though,” he said, his expression unreadable, “you have probably figured that out, too.”

The academic looked at the protector for a very long time. Then he said, “I had hoped.”

Then he knelt too, picked up the dagger, and held it back towards the protector, who was really the assassin.

The assassin said, “I do not want to.”

The academic said, “I know.”

The assassin took the dagger and sheathed it.

“When you do it,” said the academic, “because we both know you have to, use the darts. They seem a little more dignified.”

Then he kissed the assassin, turned, and went back to the campsite to sleep.

The assassin stood under the large tree that spread out wide towards the stars and thought about death.

The next morning, he took up the role of protector again, and neither he nor the academic said a word about it.

The ride through the mountain pass was tense for other reasons, as the apprentice grew more and more fearful that there would be no magic.

They arrived at the gulley, but the apprentice knew that something was wrong before they even turned the corner, because there was no sound of rushing water. No sound of rushing water, nor the familiar hum of the magic she had spent so long tending to and had killed. The sound in the gulley was the same as the sound in the cage in the moment after the magic had been snuffed out: eerie, silent, empty.

They rounded the corner.

Sure enough, the gulley was empty, and though the apprentice recognized the space from her dreams, the magic was nowhere to be found.

“Well,” said the academic, holding his arms out, voice echoing in the vast cavern, “now seems as good a time as any.”

The protector shook his head. “I will not do it.”

“Then you will die,” the academic said, “and since we will die out here anyway, one of us might as well live.”

“Hang on,” said the apprentice, catching on, “who’s dying?”

The protector shook his head again. “No one.”

“You were sent by the king to kill us.” The academic said. “So that there was no chance we’d bring magic back to the kingdom.”

The protector, who was really the assassin, said nothing.

“Wow,” said the apprentice, “that’s unfortunate.”

“I won’t do it.” The assassin said. “I have been a lot of things in my life, but a killer of friends is not one of them.”

The three stood watching each other warily for several long minutes, and when it became clear that no solution was going to present itself, the apprentice sighed. “What are our options?”

“We can’t go back without magic,” said the academic, “so we can’t go back at all. I suppose you could go back without us and pretend you’ve done the job.”

The assassin and the academic made very pointed eye contact, and the assassin said, “You don’t usually say foolish things. I will not leave you.”

It did seem rather grim, all things considered. If only, thought the apprentice, if only magic was anywhere to be found.

The pain in the apprentice’s chest worsened quite suddenly, and she staggered forward, clutching her heart.

The academic and the assassin rushed to her aide. The academic pressed a hand to her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Bones, she thought, aren’t supposed to feel so alive. Her heart beat, the pain itself a presence large and unyielding and begging to be released, and a bubble of laughter trapped itself in her throat. She gasped, “there is no source of magic.”

The academic said, “I thought we’d already come to that conclusion.”

“No,” she said, and she stood, leaning against them both. “There never was. Magic isn’t something to be found.”

All around them, the air shimmered, the very ground beneath them buzzing a distinctly familiar hum. The apprentice staggered back, shut her eyes, and released the burden in her chest.

“What are you doing?” asked the academic, with an air of extreme skepticism.

The apprentice let her arms rise from her sides. “Magic, I think.”

And magic it was.

The academic knew it, and the assassin knew it, and the apprentice, who really wasn’t an apprentice any longer, threw her head back and laughed in delight. The sound echoed through the gulley, bright and high and beautiful, and once it reached the top, the water that was really magic burst forth, falling from the very highest point in torrential currents of dizzying blues and purples, just like her dreams.

“Well,” said the academic, once he had recovered his tongue, “I suppose you’re a magician now.”

“Yes,” the magician replied. “I think that suits me.”

On the way back, transformation was already underway. The barren wasteland was coming to life all around them bit by bit, and rains tore through the hardened earth, and the magician knew in her heart that magic had never really died, just been forgotten.

Their arrival back in the kingdom was only momentarily hindered by fear. The king was not thrilled to see the three of them back in his court, but after all, he was just a very grumpy figurehead, and besides that, the damage was already done. All around them, the colours were brighter, the air crisper, and the whole kingdom seemed to sing with an energy that none of them remembered having ever felt before. The assassin was not killed, because to do so would have been to reveal that the king had intended that two of his own die at his hand, and so they remained safe, if wary, at first, and as time passed, they relaxed, and the flow of magic never let up.

They didn’t live happily ever after, because happily-ever-afters are highly improbable, but they did lead happy lives, and the kingdom flourished under the influence of the first real magician in centuries, and the king died of gout, and the ex-assassin-turned-palace-fencing-instructor-slash-baker-slash-jack-of-all-trades never got tired of listening to the academic ramble about niche topics, particularly late at night when he had to be dragged away from his books to their shared living quarters in the west wing of the castle. And none of them ever forgot their journey, or the bond of friendship that had brought them back together in one piece.

The end.

#writing #writers #original writing #original fiction #fiction #fairy tale #short story #prose #short fiction #magic

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lucientelrunya · 3 years ago

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Like a lonely house pt 2

Chaotic me deciced to switch back to present tense (already edited part one) and I'm still quite clueless how to tag. But it gave me so much joy to see people enjoy my little idea.

Please feel free to point out any mistakes you spot, I'm always trying to improve my writing and stop myself from agonizing over every sentence and constantly rewrite everything...

I think Zhang Rishan might be a tad bit dramatic in this part, but I hope you enjoy this anyway :)

The blackness and cotton in his head only slowly recede, permeated by the sound of muffled voices Zhang Rishan knows. The voices carry an urgency, an impalpable sense of importance that drags him back to consciousness with a sudden harshness. Still it takes more effort than it should to blink his eyes open and for a moment he is confused why there is a stone ceiling above him and why little white flakes are clinging to his lashes. He rubs at his eyes, his movement sluggish and his arm feels heavy, a dull ache that causes the memories to come rushing back. The strange tomb, the force controlling him, the ritual, the pool - Ba Ye. It’s not a dream - nightmare? - or at least not all of it and he sits up way too quickly for his body to adjust. Thankfully someone grabs his shoulders - again - to keep him upright.

It takes Zhang Rishan another long moment to blink away the black spots and recognize Luo Que beside him, offering him an already open bottle of water, which is considerate and much appreciated. He really needs to drink something, at least to get the taste of copper and something he can’t even begin to describe out of his mouth. The strange pale liquid has dried all over his skin and clothes like some sort of clay, cracking and peeling off in flakes and powdery dust when he moves. He opts to ignore it for now, content with getting it off his lips and out of his eyes.

Luo Que doesn’t say anything and patiently waits for him to gulp down most of the bottle before he sits back again, letting go of Zhang Rishan’s shoulders and looking at him with a barely there question in his eyes. And, yeah, Zhang Rishan would like to know what’s going on here himself, thank you very much. With his vision mostly free of black spots and blurring edges he dares to look around him, having already spotted Zhang Qiling’s black clad legs next to him from the corner of his eye. He is lying on a sleeping bag right next to him, with Huo Daofu examining him quietly and unhurriedly.

And Zhang Rishan’s brain is still mushy enough to take a long moment to truly comprehend what he is looking at when he finds the source of the voices. Liu Sang and Pangzi arguing is not some rare occurrence (as he has learned in the last two days), although it's not really arguing and more of a friendly stage of bickering, but Liu Sang and Wang Pangzi arguing with Ba Ye is not normal, not in the least. So it really hasn’t been a dream or his imagination.

An illusion then, maybe? A hallucination, like the meteorite inside the tomb and Er Ye getting back his dead wife? Maybe he is still in the pool and all of this is just a hallucination? But back then the whole fake world had frozen once Ba Ye had started to doubt and Zhang Rishan is absolutely doubting the possibility of this being real. It feels too much like Er Ye’s illusion of getting Yatou back and Zhang Rishan has lived long enough to know that there is no way to truly bring a dead person back to life.

No one freezes and no one vanishes, not even when he puts his hand on his arm to push a thumb into the wound beneath the bandages and elicits a spark of pain that is absolutely and undeniably real. It quickly vanishes again, his body cataloguing it under ‘inconvenient but not life threatening’ and opting to ignore it like he had been trained. But it leaves Zhang Rishan fairly confident in his assumption that this is not an illusion.

He must have been staring, lost in his contemplation of what is real and what isn’t, because suddenly Ba Ye is turning towards him, a look of relief flashing over his face. “Lieutenant! You are awake! Please, please tell these people who I am!” He sounds worried but also a little irritated and whiny, and so much like the Ba Ye Zhang Rishan remembers. For a moment he allows himself to just watch Ba Ye come over and squat down in front of him. He had obviously tried to wipe his glasses off on his equally stained scarf resulting in smudged pale lines all over his glasses and his face.

And he has to fight the urge to reach out and touch, to convince himself that Ba Ye is real, because he has been dead and gone for almost 80 years. Even if they never found his body, even if he had been hidden somewhere by Qiu De Kao for whatever reason there is just no way for him to be alive right now, alive and the same, he is no Zhang, he has no qilin blood.

Wu Xie kneeling down beside him, half on Zhang Qiling’s sleeping bag, breaks the moment. “You know him” and although it’s not a question Zhang Rishan nods. He glances at Wu Xie, who looks worried but also curious and intrigued, always drawn to mysteries. Pangzi and Liu Sang come over, too, placing themselves behind Ba Ye like they are prepared to grab and restrain him if he tries anything, but they look at Zhang Rishan. With at least 5 pairs of expectant eyes on him, probably six, he has to squish the feeling of vulnerability and helplessness that wants to crawl out and drape itself all over him. Instead he consciously straightens his back, squares his shoulders and shifts to sit cross-legged.

He has no idea what’s going on here, no idea how to tell Ba Ye where or rather when he is now (because right now he can’t fight the acceptance that this is a living, breathing Ba Ye who just hasn’t aged a day) or what happened in the pool or if everything did really happen like he thinks. If that being had been there, in the pool and had granted him a wish he hadn’t ever put into words, had made a fleeting thought into a new reality. Each of them is looking at him like he has all the answers and he hates that he is sitting here on the floor of a dimly lit cave, on a sleeping bag someone else has rolled out for him, with bandages around his arms and feeling so utterly helpless. He can’t suppress the bitter thought that Fo Ye would have known what to do.

Taking a deep breath he decides to start with what he is sure of, which is the answer to Wu Xie’s “You know him”. “I do know this man, his name is Qi Tiezui, also known as Ba Ye”, and the name and the title should mean something to at least Wu Xie and maybe Huo Daofu, even if they obviously don’t recognize him from old photos. Maybe because they never paid attention to those pictures, which are faded and grainy compared to what even the simplest smartphone camera is able to capture nowadays or maybe because Ba Ye looks like he took a mud bath. Maybe both.

On to the second thing he is quite certain of: “As to what happened, I’m not really sure myself. As soon as I entered the tomb some force took over my body and I suppose Zhang Qiling's as well and we came to this cave to enact some kind of blood sacrifice ritual for whatever deity they are worshipping here.” No need to point out he had been meant to be the sacrifice, that bit is quite obvious, although he is not sure why Zhang Qiling is the one still unconscious then. “There was chanting, but I wasn’t able to understand it”, he adds, which makes Liu Sang nod at him. “Yeah, I heard you through the wall, but wasn’t able to identify the words either.”

Zhang Rishan considers asking why they hadn’t followed them into the cave and tried to stop the whole thing, if only to give him a little more time to try and find words for what happened after that, but he doesn’t have to voice his question. “Yeah, almost broke my damn nose trying to follow you two through that convenient little magic wall that suddenly turned into a real wall after you two went through, and we couldn’t find a mechanism or another entry or hear anything. Imagine our immense joy at hearing this idiot here say there’s ‘eerie chanting’!” Pangzi grumbles and there is no need for him to add that the use of some explosives had been on the table. Or had they used explosives?

“Did you blow a hole into the wall?” Zhang Rishan asks, eyeing a pile of broken stone in the vicinity of the wall, but Pangzi shakes his head. “Nah, I wanted to, but then the ground started to shake and - poof - the entrance was back and actually visible.” It takes Zhang Rishan another moment to realize the rubble is what’s left of the statue he had only glimpsed upon entering the cave. Had the earthquake destroyed it? Had it even been an earthquake?

Wu Xie humms beside him, following his line of sight for a moment before he points to the wall behind the rubble. “There are some murals depicting locals worshipping a deity that I have never seen before. But it seems to be for protection against droughts or bad harvests, your garden-variety-harvest-god to ensure plenty of food and the likes. Nothing that can bring dead people back to life.” Ah, right back to the burning question.

Ba Ye sputters quite helplessly at that. “Dead? What do you mean dead? Do I look dead to you? Lieutenant, what is going on here, who are these people?” Considering that Ba Ye’s face is still mostly covered in white it wouldn’t be that unreasonable to mistake him for a ghost. But beneath that he doesn’t look dead or like a walking corpse, he looks just like Zhang Rishan remembers him, just like the last time he had seen him before he had vanished. And he still has no idea how to tell Ba Ye that everyone he knows is dead. Well, everyone except Zhang Rishan.

“I’m Wu Xie, this is Wang Pangzi, Liu Sang, Luo Que and behind me are Huo Daofu and Zhang Qiling.” Wu Xie blindly pats Zhang Qiling’s lower leg when he says his name, his eyes never leaving Ba Ye’s face, gauging his reaction to two familiar family names. And Ba Ye doesn’t disappoint, confusion clearly written all over his face. He is mouthing ‘Wu’ and ‘Huo’ while his eyes scan Wu Xie’s face before he looks at Zhang Rishan with a mixture of confusion, incomprehension and helplessness.

“He is Wu Laogou’s grandson”, Zhang Rishan says softly, because their relation is the most obvious to emphasize how much time has passed and the most obvious in terms of resemblance, Ba Ye must have seen that. And Zhang Rishan holds his gaze until Ba Ye looks down, takes a deep breath, closes his mouth and lets himself plop back down to sit on the ground, his whole body curling inwards. This would be a lot to take in for everybody and Zhang Rishan would like to give Ba Ye a moment to compose himself without everyone else staring at him. There are things he hasn’t told them yet, but he is still not sure how to put any of that into words.

“Did the murals say anything about something being confined here?” Zhang Rishan asks Wu Xie, who just looks puzzled. “Confined? What do you mean?” And he really has to try and put it into words, there is no way around it, is there? He takes another deep breath through his nose. “For the ceremony I was kneeling in that pool and when the tremors started I fell into whatever liquid is in there, and it was like - like there was something in there with me. Like it was a living thing with a consciousness and whatever we did in that ceremony it set that thing free.” He can already feel some doubtful looks but nobody starts to interrupt him and Wu Xie actually nods thoughtfully like he can imagine that, so he continues: “It was communicating with me, not with words, more like with feelings and impressions,” and he just waits for Huo Daofu to interrupt him, to say something about blood loss and hallucinations, but he doesn’t, he just doesn’t - “It made very clear that it had been imprisoned here for whatever purpose and that it was just so very thankful that I set it free.”

Everyone is quiet, mulling over those words. There are still so many questions, like who or what had controlled them to enact this ceremony? Had it been the imprisoned being? Or something else? But why? And who had sealed the tomb? And why?

“So you set some ancient being free and someone from your past turns up. What if he is no human but that being in the shape of someone it saw while it was inside your mind?” Liu Sang questions, looking at Ba Ye thoughtfully who stops his calculations to stare back incredulously. “What? First I’m dead, now I’m some preternatural being? Let me tell you, I’m just a fortune teller!” He acts and sounds just like Ba Ye, but Liu Sang has a point, that being had looked into his mind, had probably had access to all his thoughts and memories. It makes his head hurt even thinking about it.

Pangzi and Liu Sang start bickering about how to test that theory, to find out if someone is human and it only gets more chaotic when Zhang Qiling wakes up and Wu Xie starts worrying over him, asking him how he feels and if he is alright while Huo Daofu tries to rule out a concussion. Zhang Rishan tries to ignore them for the moment, even though he would like to get Zhang Qiling’s version of the ceremony. He feels torn between the possible explanations for this situation, but why would some ancient being that had been trapped in a cave for centuries if not millenia take human form and stay with them? To play tricks on him? Or maybe-

“Lieutenant, if so much time has passed that the grandson of Wu Laogu is at least as old as I am, how come you haven’t aged a day?” Ba Ye’s question jolts him out of these thoughts. “It’s a Zhang-family-thing”, he answers, because Ba Ye already knows so much about their family that it should be enough. Ba Ye nods, visibly brightening at the answer, as if he had hoped for something along those lines. “So, why don’t we just ask Fo Ye for help to prove I’m just a normal human? I mean, if that being was in your head and knows what you know it doesn’t know everything about me.”

Of course he would think of Fo Ye as the answer to everything and of course Zhang Rishan has to say it now. He shakes his head slightly and forces himself to watch Ba Ye’s face and catalogue his reaction. “No. Fo Ye is not with us anymore.” It’s cruel, so cruel to tell him like this and Zhang Rishan hates it even more than he hates saying the words at all. Ba Ye’s whole face crumples but he visibly tries to hide his distress. “How on earth am I supposed to prove I’m just a normal human, then?” he bristles, obviously trying to distract himself with anger. “Tell me! What should I do!” Those last words are directed towards Pangzi and Liu Sang behind him who actually stop their bickering and have the grace to look embarrassed.

“Why would that being even want to stay here? What could be in it for... it?” Pangzi voices Zhang Rishan’s thoughts from before. “Maybe it needs help to leave the cave?” Wu Xie suggests, joining the conversation again after assuring himself that Zhang Qiling is fine aside from a cut on his forehead. “Or maybe it’s just lonely and looking for some company?” Huo Daofu throws in and Zhang Rishan isn’t sure if it’s meant to be a joke or a real suggestion. But if they are just casually throwing around theories he can add one, too.

“Maybe it’s an illusion.” Even if there is no meteorite around and even if he had set that theory aside before. Ba Ye inhales sharply at that suggestion and slaps Zhang Rishan’s knee a little harder than necessary. “Aiya! An Illusion? Does that feel like an illusion? Is there a meteorite around that you haven’t told me about? Shouldn’t you be able to tell the difference?” Ba Ye slaps him again and Zhang Rishan just lets him, flinching only a little. It makes Luo Que beside him tense noticeably, like he contemplates grabbing Ba Ye’s arm and stopping him from hitting his boss, but in the end he doesn’t move and just watches.

“Should I? I mean you were the one who realized it was an illusion back then, and you guided us out of it.” Ba Ye harrumphs at that, knitting his brows. “It’s not an illusion”, Wu Xie says and the certainty in his voice makes it easy to just accept it. After all Wu Xie had come with him and should be a real person, even if they stepped into some fake world at some point, just like Fo Ye, Ba Ye, Er Ye and Chen Pi had been real people who stepped into the meteorite.

“Thank you!” Ba Ye says, giving Wu Xie a small bow. “And if you let me, I can show you that I am perfectly capable of leaving this place all on my own.” Which leaves them with: a lonely godly being looking for company (or a bored godly being looking for some fun?) or the possibility that it is really Ba Ye.

For a moment everyone is quiet again and Zhang Rishan takes the chance to ask Zhang Qiling how he had experienced being possessed or remote controlled or whatever it had been. His answer is disappointingly simple and his experience almost the same as Zhang Rishan’s, except that he had not been in contact with another consciousness but had been knocked out really hard by something as soon as the cave had started to shake. Which confirms Zhang Rishan’s suspicion that there had been something with him in the pool.

He gets up, startling both Ba Ye and Luo Que with the sudden movement, making them stand up with him as if they are preparing to catch him again. It’s endearing and disconcerting at the same time and he opts to ignore the way it makes him feel for the moment, but tucks the feeling away to pick it apart later.

The pool is surprisingly dry and empty, but covered in the same white flaky residue both Zhang Rishan and Ba Ye are covered in, which is reassuring because it means there had been something before. For a moment Zhang Rishan just stares at the empty pool, trying and failing to find a hole or a crack in the stone through which the liquid could have vanished. Surely it did not just evaporate into thin air? His memory is not clear enough to dispel the thought that maybe the liquid had not vanished but changed its shape and made itself into a human being.

“Huh? Why is it empty?” Pangzi asks which makes Zhang Rishan release a breath he hadn’t even been aware of holding. “It wasn’t empty when you could get in?” he reassures himself, looking at the other man. “Hah! Wish it had been, do you have any idea how hard it was to get you out of that stuff?” Pangzi snorts and points at the smudged edge of the pool, where a very visible track of white covers the ground all the way over to their sleeping bags. It also makes Zhang Rishan notice the white smudges all over Pangzis clothes only to find the man grinning at him when he looks up again. The corners of his mouth twitch involuntarily in quiet amusement and he nods his thanks, which makes Pangzi grin even more.

With the pool providing no answers at all Zhang Rishan walks over to the wall to look at the murals, soon joined by Wu Xie who points to the parts of the murals he had mentioned before. It shows a group of people in clothing Zhang Rishan has never seen building this tomb. Maybe some minority? They have no idea how old this tomb is, after all or how long it had been sealed. In the next part of the mural it almost looks like they are summoning the unknown god and not merely worshipping and some part of Zhang Rishan’s mind resonates with that thought. The ceremony looks just like what the two of them had enacted, one person in the pool and the other at the altar with a dagger. But it almost seems like the sacrifice on the mural dissolves into the pool, a thought he really doesn’t want to dwell on.

After that the mural gets quite confusing, depicting the statue that is broken now and people celebrating rich harvests, without any clear connection. He looks back at the picture of the god, tracing the faded lines with his fingers trying to recall everything the being in the pool had tried to tell him through thoughts and feelings and suddenly he understands. Or at least he thinks he does.

“They didn’t worship the god, they captured it and confined it in here because as long as it was here everything around it would be thriving, rich harvests, no sicknesses, people living long and full lives.” As soon as he says it he knows it’s true and he finds Wu Xie nodding next to him. “So, you set that god free and as a gesture of thanks it returned a dead person from your past?” And Zhang Rishan knows dead people don’t come back to life, but this is a god they are talking about and it had made everything else grow, had kept people healthy and strong. Maybe it could do this too?

“I’m still not dead and I was never dead!” Ba Ye protests from beside him and reminds Zhang Rishan that he still doesn’t know what happened when Ba Ye vanished back then, how or when he died. He looks at him and contemplates asking just that but somehow he is afraid of the answer. “Maybe you died and you just forgot.” Pangzi says, pushing at one of the larger rocks left over from the statue with his foot.

“How would someone forget his own death, this is ridiculous! An hour ago I was just in my room, enjoying a nice cup of tea and suddenly I find myself in this cave, almost drowning in that pool!” Ba Ye gestures wildly and angrily with his arm, almost slapping Zhang Rishan in the face in the process, but Pangzi is unimpressed. “How could you not forget your death? Or the fact that you died. Maybe you just dropped dead drinking your tea, things like that happen. Who knows.”

“He didn’t drop dead, he vanished without a trace, leaving everything behind”, Zhang Rishan interjects. If Ba Ye had just dropped dead there would have been a funeral and it would have been just as sad and hard, but there wouldn’t have been a mystery, no reason to wish to know what happened.

“Well, maybe he did drop dead and that god plucked his body from the past, brought him back to life and put him here”, Wu Xie shrugs, “I mean, my terminal lung cancer got healed by magic golden coffin water in thunder city, so it’s not that far-fetched.”

And - oh, oh - realisation hits him like a punch to the sternum, taking his breath away, almost making him double over and sink to his knees. It had been him. Ba Ye never just vanished, had never been kidnapped by the Japanese or Qiu De Kao. He had never died, he had been snatched away by this being - god - whatever - and placed here and now, with Zhang Rishan, because it had wanted to give him something he had lost. But Ba Ye had never been lost, he had been stolen, stolen because Zhang Rishan is selfish and thoughtless and cruel and - He has done this. He has done this to Ba Ye. And to Fo Ye. And -

He can’t breathe. How can he ever say this? How can he ever tell Ba Ye? He can never be forgiven for this, there is no way, absolutely no way. Look out for Ba Ye, that had been his order, the one most important to Fo Ye and thus the most important to Zhang Rishan. And he had failed, miserably - no, he had done the opposite! And for the first time in quite a while he wishes Fo Ye was the one with a long life and not him. Fo Ye would never have done something so stupid.

Unbidden he remembers the illusion he had fallen victim to below the Chen tree, Fo Ye with his gun pointed at him, disappointed, so disappointed and he wishes it had been real, that he had died that day so he would have never been able to come here today. But Ba Ye had been missing before, he had vanished before Zhang Rishan had ever been to this tomb and shared his memories with a god. There would have been no reason to wish to know what happened that day if nothing had happened. And that really makes his head hurt, how is it even possible? How does this work, today and the past linked like this? Like it had always been meant to be this way?

#I wrote this instead of sleeping #dmbj fic #mystic nine #zhang rishan #qi tiezui #fuba #wibbly wobbly timey wimey #ba ye

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egelantier · 4 years ago

Text

Tian Guan Ci Fu

where is it and what is it

it’s a chinese webnovel by mxtx, the same author who did untamed; it exists as a webnovel, finished and kindly translated here, the manhwa, the donghua (animated adaptation) happening right now, and there’s a live action adaptation in plans, directed by the same guy who did untamed. the donghua is gorgeous, the adaptation i’m unsure about but prepared to be hopeful, the manhwa seems to be very pretty. but all the adaptations only cover the very beginning of the novel for now, so i went ahead and read the novel, and i have no regrets. it helps that the translation is very good - not without awkward translatorese, but it has consistent and engaging flow and style, and it’s also pretty good at conveying mxtx’s humor without awkwardness. it reads pretty well.

what’s it about?

the world is split into two parts: mortals and various ghosts and demons and entities share the land, while ‘heaven officials’, aka gods, live in the heavenly kingdom in the sky. pretty much anybody can become a god if they do something really heroic or memorable and/or cultivate (meditation, training, virtuous behavior) really hard. when above, the gods rule their domains and fulfill their believers’ wishes; they work sort of like pratchettian gods, dependent on their followers’ beliefs and getting influenced by them. heavens are strictly hierarchical, with their own economy and pecking order, and the gods aren’t particularly sinless or benevolent; mostly it’s a question of scale.

our hero, xie lian, is a prince of a prosperous kingdom who’s been on a fast track to ascension for most of his very short life; he’s talented, he’s virtuous, he’s kind, he’s strong, and his only peculiar flaw is (somehow naive, but well-meaning) obsession with equality and value of human lives and so on. he becomes a god, unexpectedly, at seventeen, after slaying one especially dangerous god, and rises in heaven at the peak of his faith, influence and happiness.

…and then he finds out about drought and incipient trouble in his own kingdom, and, being a young and righteous god too close to his mortality, eschews heavens and returns to save everybody. it, to put it lightly, does not go well. at all. in fact, it goes catastrophically wrong, and, having lost everything, xie lian ascends again, only to get into a fight with the heavenly emperor, and get banished again, this time for good. he roams the mortal lands for next eight hundred of very lonely, luckless and hard years, technically immortal but not invincible, with his powers and his luck stripped away, and leans to make do, eking out a living as a scrap collector. his temples are desecrated, his name is forgotten, his kingdom is long gone, and - well. so it goes.

so it goes! until one day, to everybody’s great surprise, he ascends once again: a humble, gentle, immune to embarrassment, unflappable man, an embarrassment to heavens, a 'laughingstock of three realms’ who just wants to be left well enough alone. he’s Tired.

instead of rest, he gets sent to investigate a dangerous ghost stealing brides who pass through its mountain, and there, during the course of the interrogation, has his first (he thinks) meeting with a terrifying, old-powerful and vengeful ghost king named hua cheng, who likes to terrorize heavens from time to time. but said ghost king seems to be very benevolent and very interested in helping xie lian, and xie lian is pretty instantly smitten… with knowing what’s the cause of such interest.

…and meanwhile, in the beginning, there'was an unlucky boy, born under the worst stars, whom xie lian saved from falling once, while still mortal, and promptly lost track of. a lot of things happened to this boy, who wanted to be the most devoted worshipper to xie lian the god of the sword and the flower. as one does, you know.

that’s the beginning! from there on: investigations, heavenly secrets, old friends and enemies and acquaintances, thematic parallels, old tragedies, more pining than you can shake a stick at, grand acts of love.

is it good?

it’s very, very good. it’s the first fantasy cnovel i read (aside from the hilarious one about a guy traveling back in his own timeline and becoming a sugar baby to a mafia boss, which was in a very different league), so i don’t know which things are baseline and which things are unique, but it had a very solid foundation: ambitious multilevel, multi-timeline plot coming together in the end both events- and emotions-wise, beautifully iddy main relationship, maybe multifaceted characters who change and grow and clash together in fun ways, a clear and heartfelt understanding of its own core themes.

it’s also, unexpectedly, very funny, in this visual, slapsticky, begs-to-be-adapted way - i found myself laughing out loud over it a lot of times, and it possesses this gift of swerve between understated but earnest emotions and all-out jokes that i associate with… a bit of prattchett and a bit of gintama, honestly. take it as you will.

(oh my god the mecha. i will laugh over this one until i die.)

it also made me cry several times; granted, it’s not like it’s this time, but those were very heartfelt tears.

and the main duo?

first let me say that xie lian was lifted out, wholesale, out of my deepest character preferences. he fell really, really far, and did some bad things, and some very horrible things were done to him, and by the time we meet him he went through everything and achieved this effortless kind of traumatized, humble, accepting, wryly self-deprecating, utterly competent chill that makes a character incredibly appealing to me. he’s kind, and he’s sweet, and he’s gotten any possible embarrassment at least a couple of centuries ago, and he kinda made peace with himself and kinda didn’t. i love him.

and, thankfully for me, hua cheng, the ghost king, loves him a whole damn lot, a ridiculous amount, an epic, over-the-lifetimes, life-shattering amount, and he’s a terrifying presence to everybody else and a shy, protective, sweet dork to xie lian, and every time they’re together on page my entire heart is just. it’s AMAZING. he’s a great combination of playing the obsessive protective yandere stalker-lover trope straight and putting it on its head, by making hua cheng not just revere but respect xie lian, in all his good and bad decisions.

they are just so - good for each other, holy shit. they get each other so well. they’re the best ever power team. i love them.

(the rest of canon is various character reenacting “really? in front of my salad?” meme at them. it’s hysterical, and it’s the best. everybody teams up to tell xie lian that his boyfriend is Problematic way, way before xie lian clues into the fact that he does have a boyfriend, and he’s having none of it. i love it.)

and the themes?

okay, so. roughly half of this novel is ridiculous iddy pining, and a fourth of it is various tropes (off the top of my head: soulbond, sex pollen, body switch, de-age, various shades of identity porn… crossdressing…) played very shamelessly. but it also really benefits from having an overarching set of ethical questions, and while it deals with them a bit shounen-style, it still deals with them, and it makes the whole text fresh, and sweet, and bold.

is it possible to save everybody? should you try to save everybody? if you lack the powers to back your convictions, does it make you complicit? when is it possible to stop the cycle of suffering, what can you do if you want to but can’t? if you tried and people you failed turned on you, whose fault it is, where does the blame stop?

Detailed spoilers begin from here, and i would REALLY advise to stay unspoiled, because the domino reveals are very fun

i loved the various ways the novel sets all those pieces up and then overturns them and then returns to them. xie lian wanted to save everybody and it was arrogant naivete of an untried, untested, privileged young man who never had a real challenge before; his presence made things escalate quicker, and yet everybody around him pretended it was his attempt to make things better that ruined everything, and not a combination of factors outside of his control. and yet he accepts the blame, because it dovetails with his shame at not having enough powers to back his intent up; and yet his triumph over bai wuxian is that he doesn’t, after all, renege on his initial drive to help people.

my most favorite part of this novel is that its turning point, the lynchpin of the whole novel, the moment that keeps xie lian’s soul and safety intact, is not his personal purity and drive; it’s not even hua cheng’s devotion and sacrificial love. it’s just a moment of little, grudging, human kindness from a little, petty, rude man whom the history will sweep away soon. the bamboo hat in the rain. the rest of the plot keeps twisting and turning and coming back to itself, but this? this was unquestionably, beautifully clear, and i loved it. it’s never about the gods, it’s all down to - fallen human is human, ascended human is human, and human is not some state, virtuous or sinful, you get stuck with - it’s a multitude of choices, and there’s never a final one.

and incoherent spoilery screaming for people who read it already

oh my god i had SO MUCH FUN. i’ve been flailing on meme for days, because somebody just finished reading there too, and i’m still bursting with ALL THE FEELS. ruoye origins oh my god! that hat! jin wu’s backstory and ultimate end! e-ming’s praise kink! pei ming’s little shippery 'hoho’! hua cheng’s horribly handwritten stick and poke tattoo of xie lian’s name! the lanteeeeeeeeeeeeerns. feng xin and mu qing on the bridge, making up with each other and with xie lian! hua cheng trying to explain to xie lian that his habit of using himself as bait and pincushion at any given moment is deeply emotionally upsetting to him, and succeeding! banyue’s learning from xie lian to be a truly horrible cook! the entire deal with shi qingxuan and he xuan and the wind fan in the end. THE CAVE. THE GIANT MECHA. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and i am beset, beset by feelings. come scream with me.

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #hua cheng #cdramas #cnovels #mxtx

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