#dragon shaped water slides

[sashiavi]

HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT!!.....Big voy Zhongli...I MEAN-- THE Geo archon? Morax? Come on! He has to be a big boy, after all he shaped Liyue's mountains!!

♡ Genshin Impact Big Boys ♡

You're so righttt omg BigBoy!Zhongli/Morax my king ♡ I'm writing this in his prime Morax era I hope that's okay mwah ♡

My fave genre of Zhongli cough I even have two fics about it cough ◇ ◇

Warnings : 18+ Smut | Morax!Zhongli | possessive | dumbification | dom/sub & master/pet | abuse of power dynamics | Size Difference | monster cock - knotting - belly buldge- breeding | God/Mortal | potential dubcon | the more I write the more warnings come up | 'cunny' as a descriptive word for afab anatomy |

→ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵂᵃʳⁿᶦⁿᵍ←

♡Be in charge of your own reading and look after yourself♡

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BigBoy!Morax who towers over many. Easily over twice the size of an ordinary mortal, effortlessly tall, thick, strong, with heavy muscles coursing with omnipotent power. Carving and shaping the mountains of Liyue, with the effort of a minimal wrist flick.

BigBoy!Morax who lazes on his throne, heavy robes draped off of his body, legs spread apart, cheek pressed into the palm of his hand. His body absolutely dominates over your own, dwarfing you while you rest in his lap. His other arm practically cups you, coddling, with you napping away, head agaisnt his chest, your own pretty peppery floral robes water-falling off of his throne.

BigBoy!Morax with the sheer power of a mighty Dragon, supreme, pre-eminent, forced to take extra care and precaution with you; His pretty little pet.

BigBoy!Morax with a hand easily over twice the size of your own. His thumb longer than your jaw, swiping over your cheek and ear. He practically engulfs your face when he cups the side of it, fingers cradling the back of your head, thumb gently dancing over your closed eyelid. The soft core lapis glow of his hands illuminates your pretty, soft features, allowing him to admire you for hours on end- chanting sweet praise and compliments over and over.

BigBoy!Morax who's hands absolutely shrink your stature. Curving over your waist, gripping your hips, fingers effortlessly wrapping themselves around for frame, tickling at the soft bumps of your spine.

BigBoy!Morax who eyes you from above when you walk by his side - On the rare occasion he allows you to walk, much rather opting to carry you everywhere you went - height barely grazing up to his waist, your hand wrapped around just a few of his fingers.

BigBoy!Morax with his even bigger bed, covered in waves of soft silks, the space around dazzling in pretty little things belonging to his hoard. Archons, the treasure-hoarding being marvels at the prettiest little thing in his collection, all splayed out just for him.

BigBoy!Morax with a thick, forked tongue, perfect for hot, spitty kisses, barely battling for control, relishing at how his pretty pet just submits to him. Archons, the feeling of your little tongue sliding over his own, suckling on him obediently.

BigBoy!Morax and his appetite. Eagerly licking and lapping, tongue fucking that sweet little spot inside your cunny, swallowing down all those sweet juices. His large mouth practically engulfs you, thick fangs pin pricking gently into your cunt, lips suckling on your achey clit. His massive hands wrap around your waist, pulling your pretty self into him, forcing his lips to smush, fangs to bite, tongue to curl over and over.

BigBoy!Morax with claws all too sharp to press into your prefect pussy, forced to tongue fuck you into your first orgasm, stretching you out for him.

BigBoy!Morax with a heavy, thick cock. Standing tall despite its size, holding its own, drooling agaisnt his stomach. It was almost otherworldly, ever so slightly unhuman, with ribs and ridges, a pointed tip and a thick, fat knot right on the base of his length. He's always marvelled at your silly reaction, the awe in your eyes, swallow of your throat, eyeing the dribbly tip of his pudgy cock with a look of unease. He laughs, almost purs, soft in his chest, hand on your cheek.

BigBoy!Morax who has to go slow. Just the tip, juuust the tip. Circling your sticky clit with his thumb, rough, slow rubs forcing your cunny to gush, wetting his cock, letting him slide in bit by bit.

BigBoy!Morax who bottoms out in your cunt, cock pressing into your tummy, bulging up into your guts, leaving the lovliest indent of his cock on your front. He cuddles you, coddling his pretty pet, hushing and soothing away all the tears and hiccups with kisses and licks to your face. Oh, you're so full, aren't you? It's not easy taking the cherishing gift of a God, pretty pet doing such a lovely job.

BigBoy!Morax absolutely relishes in the sweet squeeze of your cunny on his thick, bullying length. Hugging him tight, drooly, sticky pussy lips kissing agaisnt the knot on his base, poor pink little clit grinding on his pelvis.

BigBoy!Morax who is not at all afraid to manhandle your body, giant hands latching to your waist, fingers almost intertwining with themselves over your back. Up your hips go, only your very upper back and shoulders lay on the bed as Morax sinks you down on him, himself. You're forced to wrap those legs around him, barely managing to properly anchor yourself, obediently taking him in like a perfect, little, fuck doll.

BigBoy!Morax watches that fat bump in your gut press up over and over, his thick pudgy head soothing under your belly. He can't help but press a thumb into it, massaging over that spot, listening to those insolent little whines and begs your dumb little mortal brain spews at him.

BigBoy!Morax who was still a merciful God, spitting hot globs of spit on to your cunny, keeping it nice and wet for his cock, letting that knot slip in just for a moment. His other thumb comes down, down, down, rubbing large and slow circles into your clit, forcing out those little gushes and squirms.

BigBoy!Morax, gentle as he is, still managing to to fuck you silly. Long, rhythmic slides of his cock, hands guiding those pretty hips, lifting and pulling in delicious motions- Tip to knot, thick inches squelching in and out, filling up that pretty cunny, little Pet so full, pretty dolly servicing his weepy cock.

BigBoy!Morax who can only last so long with that tight gushy squeeze on his length. Poor Morax who looses himself a little. Prettiest cunt sucking him in so, so well? Can't just dangle that sweet, juicy forbidden fruit in front of him and expect him to not take a bite.

BigBoy!Morax who let's his hips fuck into his precious, darling Pet's cunt. Meeting those hips he forces into his own, thick and slippery knot edging, pressing, slipping- The God growls, capturing your lips with his, thick tongue swirling around your own, forcing you to suckle and nip into him.

BigBoy!Morax hums low when he finally slips that thick, swollen knot into your dumb little mortal cunny, fat tip squirting and oozing thick spurts of cum into your tummy. Oh, he needs to be deeper, nestle his breeder cock up in your gut, paint your cervix white with seed.

BigBoy!Morax eggs his lovely pet on, those hands pulling your hips into his still, now grinding that juicy abused clit on his lower tummy. He feels that pretty cunny squeeze, hears those cries and moans, feels them vibrating agaisnt his tongue. He thrusts as much as he can with that locked knot in your pussy, clicking wetly with the hot pressure of him all stuck in you. His heavy balls continue to squeeze, bursting hot ropes of heavy, thick seed into you over and over. Slow and drawn out, his orgasm could last for minutes on end.

BigBoy!Morax who finally, finally gets that sweet cunt to squirt, making a mess all over his lap, gushing and pulsing, letting that buldge press in, impossibly deeper. Another hot weep of cum, milked out by that heavenly squeeze of you wrapped around him.

BigBoy!Morax laying peppery kisses over your face and neck, maneuvering your smaller-than-his frame around, hushing your sweet mewls when your poor body quivers. Poor, poor overstimulated little you, body reacting to the slighted of touches.

BigBoy!Morax who has you laid on his chest and tummy, thick cock stuck in your cunt, nestled and still drooling. His massive hands soothe over your thighs, massage into your back, pat your hair and caress your teary face. Awh, sweet girl. His lovliest, prettiest little doll. It's alright, your God is here, he'll soothe those aches and kiss away the pain. In the meantime, take a little rest, right on his chest, nice and comfy. Poor little mortal, always so tired. Keep him nice and warm now. Just like that.

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I may have gotten carried away.. but I hope you enjoyed regardless ♡

A Small Risa Message: You are loved, you are appreciated and you are allowed to enjoy this kind of fiction ♡

Property Of; SashiAvi

[oreo-creampie]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, some hurt, HEAVY COMFORT, slightly suggestive, suguru bites you once, soaping up suguru's body, hinting at height/size difference, hints at smoking and drinking with suguru, toji doesn't die, NO! he lives with you his wifey and learns how to help you look after megumi, established relationship, daddy/mama/princess, toji feeds megumi with a little struggle, tired!Satoru is doing his best, hints at satoru missing dates,

𝐟𝐞𝐲: had to write some fluff after that last episode, I can't! Let me comfort them all

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

He's frozen beneath the rushing shower water. Steam rolls off his muscular back, facing toward you. Splaying his large hand on the wall, his broad shoulders tense. Paying you no mind as you slip into the slower with him.

Slipping your hand through his. "The girls are asleep in the pillow tent. With some cartoons playing for background noise." Trying to ground him, when his brain caught reliving the past. Letting your hand go, turning around, anger and hopelessness hollow his face.

Grabbing your hips, spreading Suguru spreads his large thick fingers out. "Thank you love. You good?" His cheeks are thinner, with deepening dark circles beneath his eyes. The coldness melts in his narrow chocolate-colored eyes. His frown softens to a flat line.

Holding his face, reaffirming, "We're good," as he leans down, passionately kissing you, gently groaning. Parting your lips for him to slip his tongue into your mouth. Hugging Suguru tightly.

Slowly he breaks away, trailing kisses from your jaw to your neck. Biting around the small scar left over from Toji almost slicing your head off, then leaving you to bleed out. Squeezing along your sides.

Biting your lip to keep from crying out when he sinks his teeth in deeper. "I got you sugar-bear. Lemme take care of you." He pulls away kissing your forehead. "I have a blunt waiting for us. We sit on the balcony. I'll brush your hair out." You grab his round sponge hanging next to a unicorn and dragon-shaped loofas.

He won't talk, but you could attempt to distract him momentarily. Give him the attention and care he shows the girls and yourself. "I love you sugar-bear." Pouring his wild lands scented soap onto it. The shampoo's back states a wonderful mix of eucalyptus, white birch, and cypress.

Scrubbing Suguru's broad, muscular chest, rubbing your fingers over his firm tits. Sliding your fingers over his well-defined abs. "I love you too princess.” Trailing his loofa down, scrubbing his v-line and dark short hair. Carefully smearing soap down his soft, fat cock. Careful to make sure soap doesn’t get into his cockhead.

Letting go of his cock to squeeze soap from the loofa into your palm, fondling his balls. Suguru brings up, “I was thinking of cooking breakfast with the girls." He parts his thighs enough for you to clean his ballsack.

Smiling up at Suguru, puckering your lips he lean down giving you a chaste, sweet kiss. "We got the stuff for triple chocolate chunk. You can have Mimi with the muffins. Ko can help me with the omelets and blueberry pancakes." Crouching in front of him, scrubbing down his well-toned, legs, lingering on his muscular thighs.

Lifting his foot, his pale cheeks flushing light pink. “You don’t need to do all this..I can wash myself.” Getting the other one, then standing up. “Aren’t you tired mama?" That is new, but you couldn't help but like the affirmation of his future wife and mother to both adorable girls.

Standing up, getting on the tip of your toes, he leans down for you to kiss his cheeks. Scrubbing his broad shoulders and neck. “I’m tired, but that doesn’t matter." Going down his muscular arm, grabbing his large hand, admiring the size difference between his and yours.

Switching to his other arm, "I want to daddy.” Suguru eyes widen momentarily, the corner of his lips pulling up into a soft smile. "We're a family aren't we, gotta make sure you’re taken care of." A couple of tears trickle down his cheek.

Holding your hand, rising the soap off, “All that's missing is a ring." Kissing your knuckles. "I'm so grateful I have you and the girls."

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Two hours late.

'We should cancel, 😥 it's good. See you when you can make the time. I understand you're busy 😘😘. I'm going to get cozy, order some takeout.🍴You got the key, be quiet coming in if I'm asleep.'

Unzipping your dress, slipping out of it. Walking into the bathroom to toss it the hamper of barely worn clean worn that you need to hang back up. Setting your phone down, it buzzes. It's screen lights up a text from Satoru.

'Got caught up. We can still go, I got time.'

You want to go with him on late night date, but you can’t stop thinking of his bloodshot, tired eyes the last time you got a peak. It has you thinking getting a full night’s rest sounds better.

'I know you're trying. If you can come in the next few by we chill, I'm tired 🥱 n' want to fall asleep with you watching some cartoons. 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼You could use some rest for once, 😴😴 otherwise this is the last kiss for a week. 😤😒'

Snapping a quick video, blowing him a quick kiss. Adding I love you for the caption. You're cleaning your face when Satoru responds.

'Noooo you can't! EVIL. ✋🏻 I don't need sleep, fine 😒 😫😩😫😒 I'll sleep if you stay in the bed with me. 🥰🥰 I'll come right over in another hour 😖🥺.' 'Can you wait to eat till then, 🥺🥺 I'll bring something, anything you want. I left some work clothes over? I can walk around your naked 🥴'

Taking your fash wash, lotion, and face/eye mask out to start your face care routine. Waiting to see if Satoru would have anything else to say before texting him.

'Cleaned them so they smell like lavender. 😁 N' got some comfy clothes for you if you want them, you'll look good. 😮‍💨 But I don't mind seeing your sexy ass sleep-deprived ass resting naked in my bed.’

Opening Satoru’s blurry Snapchat video of him loudly proclaiming his love from an unknown location. There’s a loud boom marking the end of the video. Your chest tightens, breathing in till your lungs are about to burst and the slowly letting it go. Refusing to indulge obsessively thinking about everything that could go wrong.

It’s an hour later when Satoru sends; ‘I get kisses 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 and morning boob if I sleep? 😍😍 Also what are you craving sweetheart?’ Among setting your bed up with the squish-a-mellows Satoru adores cuddling into. You figured out what you want.

‘Cơm tấm! And the usual comfort favorite dessert. At least seven hours! ✋🏽😤 then morning boob 🥰😘’

The next time you hear from him is when Satoru announces, “I’m home! Give me kisses if you want your food.” Rushing into the living room, where he holds your take out above his head. Pointing at his cheek with an enormous grin on his face.

Loudly kissing his cheek and the tip of his nose with a “Mmmaw!” Grabbing the food once he lowers it. “Come on I got the bedroom cozy for us with some stuffed animals for you to knock off by morning.” Wrapping his arm around your waist, leaning down loudly covering your face in kisses.

Kissing your lips last, his breathy moan sounds as if he’s been waiting for this all day. Parting your lips for him for his tongue. He’s kisses are so gentle, passionate, and beautiful noisy. Slipping your fingers through his, breaking away, tugging him towards your bedroom.

“I’ll give you more kisses after I get you undressed, and relaxing before you fall over from exhaustion.” Taking the food from him, it’s crinkles sounding louder in the small space of the hallway.

Satoru scoffs, “You worry too much.” His large soft hand enveloping yours is comforting. He’s here, able to relax, and get some well needed rest.

Squeezing his hand, he squeezes back, “You shouldn’t worry, I’m the strongest.” Rolling your eyes, shuffling into your bedroom, dimly lit by vanilla and cinnamon candles.

Setting the food aside on the bedside table. “Don’t care what you call yourself, doesn't matter how strong you are," He flops onto your bed, burying his face into a multicolored squish. "You’re still mine to worry about, and care for.” He rolls over, pulling his mask up temporarily.

His dark circles have gotten bigger, the whites of his eyes tinted pink. “Can have a kiss n’ be small-“ he pauses yawning, "spoon tonight?”

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Wiping the sleep out of your eyes, shuffling towards Megumi's bedroom. "Latch fucker, you'll like the damn food n' sleep like baby." The golden glow of the lamp lets you see frustrated Toji cradling a grumpy Megumi trying to bottle-feed him.

Megumi is pressing his lips in a firm line, failing his chunky baby arms the best he can, kicking his little feet. Silently protesting the bottle Toji has.

Keeping your voice low, "He's going to mimic you when he can speak." You sit in the second rocking chair and leaning over. Smiling at your husband and son, Megumi's grumpy face matches Toji's too well.

Toji's eyes are bloodshot. "Then what do I do? Tell me so I can start figurin’ out how to be a good dad." His voice is rough, and you can smell whiskey on his breath. He's been up having a glass after another nightmare.

Megumi holds his hands out for you Toji scoffs, “He hates me already. What the-ugh.” You hold your hand out for Megumi to grab onto one of your fingers. His grip gets stronger with each passing month.

Megumi finds comfort in holding your hand, trying to put your fingers in his mouth. Settling his kicking legs, holding them in close to his self. “He doesn’t, being a parent going to be challenging the whole time but we can do it together.” You don’t think your words reach him.

After years by his side he’s slowly divulged his fear of fatherhood. Letting you know part of his fucked up childhood in after some liquor loosened his tongue.

Megumi presses a hand to Toji’s cheek. He flushed pink, his eyes soften as Megumi grins. Kicking his little legs and cooing. You point out, “See he is just happy to see me. Since he has settled lightly put some milk on his lip. He'll lick it and then want some more.” Slowly pulling your hand away, Megumi lightly pats Toji’s cheeks with soft smack.

“Eyy! What this attacking you’re old man? I’m tryin’.” Toji gently squeezes the baby bottle, droplets of milk over Megumi’s bottom lip. His little tongue darts out to lick it, his eyes widen, letting go of your finger to try and grab the bottle. This time he latches when Toji gives it to him.

“There he goes!” You can hear the pride in your husband’s voice. Standing up kissing Toji’s cheek, and crouching down to kiss Megumi's forehead, overcome with love. "I love ya both, I'm tryin' sweetheart. At least he isn't crying at me anymore." Megumi manages to grab Toji’s fingers, digging in his quickly growing baby nails.

“We love you too Toji. Gumi will let you know when he gets a little older. It won't be too much longer and he'll be four years old running around with your grumpy face." Lightly rubbing Megumi's soft baby head, fuzzy with short, black fluffy hair.

Toji hisses, "Ow!" Looking up you, "when the kid gets older I can play some games with him. But for now, tomorrow we need to cut his nails." He wiggles his large finger that Megumi is latched onto. Standing up, yawning, stretching your arms out trying to keep yourself awake to enjoy this moment with your family.

Ghost your fluffy white cat scambles into the room, hoping onto Toji's lap. Softly sniffling Megumi. He lets go of Toji in favor of gently grabbing a tuff of Ghost's thick white cheek fur. "Hey, that doesn't mean you can join." Rolling your eyes.

You call Toji out, "You spoil Ghost more than I do. Don't act like you don't cuddle her, give her wet food, make sure her fur isn't tangled." Easing Megumi's hand out of Ghost's fur. She hops onto the side table, adoringly staring up at Toji awaiting her moment to have his attention.

You add, "I've seen how hard you've worked on yourself to be a better man for me to marry. Now I know you'll do the same for our baby." Megumi closes his eyes, his suckling slowly down. Milk trickled down his chin onto the little towel Toji put, trying to keep Megumi's onesie clean.

Toji lowers his voice leaning in for you to hear him. “Why don’t you go back to sleep, Once I put him down, I'll come back to bed, hold you too.” Frowning, taking your seat back by him, and making yourself comfortable.

Petting Ghost between her fuzzy ears. She instantly climbs into your lap, curling up. Her loud purring filling up the room. "I'm good, want to share this with you." This bonding moment is too cute for you to walk away from.

strawberry brat all works

[dreamofjoys]

DAY 3 KINKTOBER 2023

7 min in heaven? More like 7 days inside you!

Main Masterlist + Rules / Next Day of kinktober (4)

A/N: Please read the rules on my kinktober 2023 main masterlist before proceeding. Rule breakers will be blocked.

Characters involved (separated): Malleus draconia(TWST), Wriothlesly(Genshin), Ayato(Genshin), Nanook(HSR), Luo Cha(HSR)

Sypnosis: After getting officially married, you and your husband decided to finally go to your long awaited 7 days honeymoon in a resort at private island specially reserved by your husband! Those 7 days were meant to be fun and relaxing, but why are you so tired by the end of it?

C/W: Public pool seggs, fem reader, dubcon, reader wearing bikini, choking(malleus), no prep, teasing, nearly get caught (ayato), ya'll got caught in nanook's part, npc death (nanook), luocha calls you a liar

BY OPENING THE TAB BELOW, YOU CONSENT TO READ DC/SMUT WRITING + HAVE READ THE RULES

Day 3 Scenario

"Mhmmm, it's nice seeing you wear something like this once in awhile." Your husband compliments, eyeing your body up and down like a hungry beast. You are currently wearing a set of matching black laced bikini that hugs your body in the perfect shape while your husband is only wearing a simple black trunks. “Of course! I specially bought this set while I was out shopping, it looks pretty nice right?” You gave your husband a quick twirl of your outfit, smiling sheepishly at his flustered reaction of your boobs and ass bouncing. “Let’s not start something that we can’t stop, wife.” Your husband mumbles under his breath, but you paid no attention to him as you dived straight into the pool, beckoning him to join you. He follows you suit after, jumping into the pool with a loud whoosh as the water splashes onto you. You laughed, playfully splashing water back at him while avoiding the water that was being splashed towards you. "Oh no, a monster is trying to catch me!" You shouted at your husband, faking a tear and pretending to be scared as you "desperately swim away" from him, who was the supposedly monster. "Tsk, naughty girl." With one powerful kick of his legs, your husband instantly plunges himself forward, swiftly catching up to you. "Got my prey now." He mocks at you in a teasing manner, hugging you from the back to "catch" you. "H-hey! Let me go!" You laughed, squirming in his hold that seemingly tightens whenever your ass accidentally rubs onto his cock. "Wife," his hot breath fans over your ear, a hand sliding down to cup on your sex while the other holds onto your waist tightly. "I am going to claim my prize now."

𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗨𝗦 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗔

You should have known that dragons are hunters that likes to devour their prey in an instant. Malleus is definitely not an exception. Despite being in a public pool, he has no problem tearing off your underwear, stuffing it into your mouth while his hand snakes forward to grab on your throat, forcing you to stand upright.

Malleus pulls his trunks down slightly, enough to just free his member from restraints before slamming it into your pussy. Why bother prepping you when you are so used to this?

"Mffmmm hnnng-" You tried to tell your husband that this is a public area and that really, anyone could catch you right now! But all you can do is to moan pathetically on your underwear while your husband fucks you upright in the pool. His free hand fondles on your breast, occasionally pinching onto your nipples and laughing when he feels you clench around him.

"My mate is so pretty~"

𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗟𝗬

"Th-thats very unprofessional of you! Wrio-" You gasped again when the tip of his cock kisses onto your cervix, making you squeeze tightly around him as you came in an instant.

"Dear, I think the pool water is going to taste like you now." Wriothlesly snickers, pulling his cock out with the tip just touching onto your labia before slamming himself back in, the water around you ripples rapidly at his powerful thrust. "Fuck!"

"Language, dear. What if people catch us?"

"B-but you are the one who started this! Hnng-" You were sure that nothing can convince your husband to stop fucking you in the pool when you caught sight of his wild lusted eyes staring back at you while fucking you into oblivion. Of course, Wriothlesly would definitely find joy in fucking you in the pool in your bikini outfit and watching you getting anxious at the thought of getting caught and drowning - not like he would let it happen to you.

𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗧𝗢

"W-why are we do-doing this again?Ya-yato." Your face was flushed in a deep red as Ayato's cock slides in and out of you in an agonizingly slow pace. Your back was leaning on the edge of the pool, legs wrapping around Ayato's waist for support as he fucks you slowly.

"You just look delicious in this outfit, wife." Ayato pants, before diving in to give you a passionate kiss on the lips. You moaned into his mouth when his cock abruptly touches onto your sweet spot. You tighten your legs around him, hoping to pull him close so that his cock can once again give you the touch of heaven that you need.

In the corner of your eye, you saw a couple of black figure walking past. You instinctively tried pulling away but the iron grip on your ass says otherwise.

"Don't pay attention to them, sweetie. I am the main focus here."

𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗢𝗞

The Aeon of Destruction pays no attention to your whines. He strips off your bikini and his trunks in an instant, letting the articles float on the pool as he maneuvers you into missionary position. Nanook literally folds you half, letting your back rest on the edge of the pool while fucking you relentlessly.

You want to yell at his sudden actions, but all that fell out of your lips was high pitched moans and the screams of his name. Nanook knows how to make the both of you feel good. He knows that one angle and position to aim for that gets your toes curling and eyes rolling to the back. The exact depth he should fuck himself in just to have your pussy walls grip onto his cock like a personal cock sleeve before coming all over him.

"Hey! You can't do this in public!" Somebody tried to stop the both of you, but one look from Nanook is all it takes for that person to burst into flames, leaving nothing behind but ashes.

Your mind was too fucked to process that you have just been caught and Nanook had just killed someone for stopping his fucking session.

𝗟𝗨𝗢 𝗖𝗛𝗔

"Let's do it discreetly, shall we?"

"H-how about we don't do this at all?" You shyly glanced at Luocha who only laughs at your suggestion.

"There's a first time for everything, wife."

"Lies! We did this yesterday for breakfast too!" You pout, wondering why your husband has been having such high hormones.

Many would think that Luocha was just purely back hugging you like a clingy golden retriever. Little do they know, he has your panties pulled to the side, his cock already found it's way to your insides. "But you like it when I do this, right?" With one hip thrust from your husband, you let out a sweet moan that only fuels the beast inside him to do it again.

"I like it be-better when we do it on bed." Luocha only smirks at your statement, hands reaching down to toy your clit, rubbing it in circular motions.

"Why are you lying? You just squeezed on my cock as if my actions are turning you on."

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 6 - MONTH 6 - THE CAGED BIRD

CONTENT WARNING - This chapter contains mentions of medical injections, bigotry, child abuse, self-harm, and attempted suicide. Reader beware.

FIRST - PREV - NEXT

I had my six-month check-up with Dr. Erian, an online appointment just like last time. No particular medical issues this time around, bloodwork checks out, genetic reconfiguration is stable. We can't do a thorough physical exam over the internet, but according to him, I am "the very picture of health, by the standards of your species". I'm a bit curious what standards those are, given that I have yet to hear about any other tiger therians. Hopefully there ARE standards, and he's not just giving me empty reassurance.

We also spent some time going over dietary concerns - am I getting enough meat, am I reducing my fruit and grain intake appropriately, that sort of thing. I assured him that I'm eating real meat with every meal, just like the booklet said to, I've been limiting fruits and vegetables, and I don't even have an appetite for anything grain-based. I'll probably miss what fresh bread used to be like, but I just can't bring myself to want it anymore. Apparently not every therian is following the diet they're supposed to, but the doctor didn't have any concerns about me, "assuming your answers are honest, Miss Alexis". What, does he think I'm about to lie to the one person who knows how species transition works?

At one point during the discussion I thought I heard him mutter something about a "foolish undine", but I must have misheard. Undines are water spirits or elementals or something - a fictional creature. Then again, so are dragons and lamias, but the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl, and I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia. At this point you could tell me there's someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog, and I might actually believe you.

I've hit the point of full fur coverage, so no more awkward bald patches! Unfortunately, this does mean I need to start taking my estrogen in a form other than skin patches, because there's nowhere left to stick them. After a lot of agonizing over the pros and cons of potential liver damage from pills versus facing down my needle phobia, I opted to ask my endocrinologist to train me on injectable estrogen. She made a somewhat tone-deaf joke about not being trained in veterinary medicine, but she was otherwise very patient and reassuring, so I let it slide.

I do want to state for the record that I am a big scary tiger who's not afraid of anything and I only cried a little bit the first time I injected myself.

My ears are definitely becoming much more sensitive - I keep hearing really annoying high-pitch noises when I'm around heavy machinery, and that happens a lot more often than you might think. My office at work is right next to an elevator, and whenever someone uses it, the motor lets out this gods-awful whine and I have to plug my ears until it stops moving again. My local grocery also has a few freezer units that give off a similar sound, constantly, and I've had to start wearing earplugs to go on food runs.

As for visual changes, I can see in the dark reasonably well, but I've also started getting headaches and discomfort when I squint or try too hard to focus on something. I guess I should probably just… try to not do that. I have spent a significant portion of my life staring at a screen, so my eyes probably aren't in the best shape overall.

Now that my physical changes are pretty much done, most people just assume I'm wearing a very intricate costume - at least, until they get close. No costume has mouth movements or facial expressions this realistic, and believe me, our top furry scientists and engineers have tried.

At one point there's a conversation on the humanity removal chat server about the political climates in our respective areas towards therians. Obviously, a lot of the right-wing talking-head shows have been shitting themselves inside-out about the idea of people giving up their humanity, especially the ones with a more religious bent. "How dare these freaks forsake God's holy image", "Humanity is a divine blessing and must be cherished", "We call on the one true God to smite these worshippers of the Beast", and so on like that. Excuse you, but I've never worshipped your discriminatory god and I'm not beholden to their 'holy image'. My goddess is one of beauty, love, and artistic expression, and the entire reason I'm changing myself in the first place is as an expression of self-love.

Most of us agree, though, that the absolute worst of the 24-hour news cycle doesn't have anything to do with how regular everyday people see us. In fact, we're rare enough still that a decent proportion of people don't believe we exist - they think that tabloids made us up to sell more copies. I don't know if that's better in terms of acceptance, but I'll take it over a torch-and-pitchfork mob running me out of town.

The conversation shifts to us sharing our locations, those of us who are comfortable doing so at least. We generally keep it vague, but most of us are at least alright with saying which country we live in. I narrow it down to a province for myself, mainly because my province alone is larger than some countries, but also because once we start to get noticed by the media and the world, there'll probably be no stopping our locations becoming known.

It's also going to get interesting if anyone starts asking how most of us are going to the same medical provider when he requires that consultations be done in person, or why the location he operates out of - Hyper City - doesn't appear on any map. Truthfully, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself.

The next day, I get a private message from the girl with the corvid avatar:

"Hey I saw your post when everybody was talking about where they are! I live there too!! We should totally meet up sometime ^v^"

…This is a dilemma. Obviously, I'm worried about the optics of a teenager meeting up with a 39-year-old she met on the internet, there's all kinds of ways that could be taken the wrong way, but dammit, I still don't know anyone like me in this part of the world, who knows if I'll ever find anyone else who's local? …I really want to try, but I should at least give her a warning, and a judgement-free out.

"Uhh I get wanting to meet up, but I'm more than 20 years older than you, would your parents be anywhere near cool with that??"

There's a long pause. I see her start and stop typing multiple times. I'm worried I've upset her. Eventually, she sends another message:

"I don't give a fuck what they think"

I'm taken aback by the harshness of the reply, and don't manage to type anything before another series of messages pops up:

"and they don't care what I do anyway so it's whatever" "if anyone asks I'll just say you're my weird aunt" "you have no idea how bad I want to meet someone who GETS IT" "humanity is a curse and I want to be free"

'I want to be free'. Something about that phrase hits somewhere deep, in a source of pain that never fully healed. Freedom from pain, freedom from self-hatred, freedom at any cost, even if it meant my life. I remember how that desire for freedom feels.

The only thing I can think to do next is ask if she's okay. Her response is to ask if I can go on a voice call. I'm not sure if she wants some confirmation that I'm a real person or if she just doesn't want the next part of the conversation preserved in the text log.

"Hey…", I begin cautiously as the voice call starts. "Can you hear me okay?"

There's a suppressed sniffle on the other end. "Yeah… I hear you."

For a moment I entertain the thought of going all 'when I was your age' and explaining that I was always cautioned against talking to strangers on the internet, but it's probably not the time for that. Read the room, Alexis.

She's not saying anything. I'm going to have to start this off, I think. Something harmless, something value-neutral…

"So from your icon, I'm guessing you want crow HRT? Raven HRT, maybe?"

"Crow HRT.", she states simply. "Crows are everywhere here, and I've always loved them, always been jealous of them. They get to go anywhere they want, do anything they want…" She lets out a groaning sigh. "Augh, this is stupid. You probably think I'm stupid for wanting this."

I can't hold back from giving a little bit of a laugh. "Hah! Young lady, one year ago I went to a doctor and told him to his face that I wanted him to turn me into a recessive-gene variant of an endangered species that doesn't even live on this continent, and then I threatened to bite him if he wouldn't do it. Fantasizing about being a crow is just about the normalest thing I can imagine compared to that."

"…You said you'd BITE him?"

I grin, though without a camera set up she can't see it. "Every one of us who seeks out humanity removal therapy is already a little bit inhuman, even if we don't fully know it yet. After all, why would we remove something if we felt emotionally attached to it?"

Another audible sniffle. "Holy fuck, you DO get it…"

"I sure hope I get it, it's not like I can un-grow the fur and the tail."

She gives a laugh, then there's a long pause. "…Does it hurt? Is it scary?"

"Sometimes. My fingers were REALLY sore while my claws were developing, and having your entire facial structure rearrange is no joke. As for scary, well, I sure get stared at a lot more, but I think I scare people a lot more than they scare me."

"Heh, maybe I want to be scary."

I frown a little. "I don't. I just want to be true to myself."

There's an awkward silence. After a while, I decide to bring up something I was curious about:

"So I remember you asking if there was a way to get species HRT without your parents noticing. I'm guessing they're not exactly supportive?"

She lets out an uncomfortable groan. "Mmmngh… They watch a lot of those news shows, you know, the ones that only run angry sensationalist bullcrap? Dad gets furious at the idea of anyone changing themselves, something about the 'holy sanctity of the human body' or whatever. He even thinks tattoos are blasphemy. Mom says it's the most horrific thing she can imagine, she nearly fainted when she caught me watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes."

"And here you are, wanting to be a bird… I'm sorry, that sounds really rough."

"It… It is." I can hear her voice faltering. "Hearing nothing but how terrible a waste it is, and how awful and horrific they are, and the whole time knowing that I'd give ANYTHING for it to happen to me, I just… I'm sorry, I just…"

"Hey, you don't need to apologize… I'm not going anywhere."

"I just… don't know how much longer I can take it!"

"…Take what?" I'm afraid to ask my next question, but… I just have to. "…What are they doing to you??"

Somewhere deep inside her, the dam just… breaks. She starts sobbing as she tells me about how her parents yell at her over every single mistake, how she gets shoved or hit just for being in the way, how she hurts herself just so the pain gives her something to feel and to focus on, and how she… How she once climbed up to the roof of her building and took a flying leap off. She had every intention to end her own life, but in the moment her feet left the ground and she felt the air under her arms, she experienced a rush of euphoria, for the first time she can remember.

…And a moment later, she broke a leg and several ribs when she hit the ground.

She explains that she spent over a month in hospital, a captive audience for her parents to yell at more, when they even bothered to show up at all. I'm too stunned to even react.

She's spent the years since then chasing that high, climbing trees and jumping off, finding rooftops and hilltops to go stand in the wind, looking up online videos of parachuting and wingsuiting and hang gliding, and when she first heard rumours about medical treatments that can alter one's very species, she started frantically researching. That's how she started finding other therians to reach out to, how she got involved in the group chat.

"Have you… had an appointment with Dr. Erian yet?" I have a feeling I already know the answer - something something, 'letter from a physician, two psychologists, live as your preferred species for at least a year'. The same horseshit I had to listen to.

"No… I tried to get one, but he won't see anyone under 18 without parental consent, and fat chance of ever getting that."

Huh. I hadn't expected that, it feels surprisingly principled for him. Though at the end of the day, it's probably just another liability thing - ol' Teddy Erian covering his own ass as usual.

"I just…" She's started crying again. "I just want to turn into a beautiful black bird and fly away from all this, forever… I just want to live my life on the wind, going wherever I want, never having to see a single human again…"

I can feel my own tears welling up, and that's the moment I make my decision. I'm going to meet up with this girl, and I'm going to find a way to help her. Maybe she doesn't need humanity removal, maybe she just needs to know someone who understands.

We decide on a place and time to meet up. There's a little cafe I like nearby, run by a trio of neurodivergent queer women. It's a public place, and about as safe for weirdos like us as you can get. Corvid-girl tells me she'll be the one with a feathered headband and a crow-skull necklace. I tell her I'll be the one with white fur and a tail. That manages to get a laugh out of her. I choose to take that as a victory.

There's something about the way she laughs that sounds a bit like a crow's call. I wonder whether that's intentional on her part…

A few days later, I'm sitting in the cafe enjoying a hot chocolate and a roast beef sandwich - extra meat, naturally. Dr. Erian said I have to start cutting chocolate out of my diet because cocoa is going to become toxic to me, but… chocolate! I did ask for a lighter mix though, so what I'm drinking is actually mostly just hot milk. Maybe there's a cocoa-free substitute out there I can look into…

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a squeal of delight emanating from the front door. There's a teenage girl standing there, staring directly at me with a look of amazement on her face. Dark clothes, pale skin, black hair, headband with feathers in it, and hanging from her neck, an amulet in the shape of a bird skull. I smile and wave a paw at her. She practically bounces as she walks up to my table and takes a seat.

"Holy SHIT, you're… And you even have the… Your face looks just like… Can I touch your paw??"

I laugh and hold out my paw. "Haha, sure, just watch out for the claws, they don't stay all the way inside just yet."

"Oh, it's okay, I'm used to sharp things!"

I wince as I think back to our voice chat from the other day. I REALLY hope she doesn't mean what I think she means, but I can't help noticing she's wearing long sleeves, even though the weather has been getting warmer.

She turns my paw over and squeals. "OHMYGOD you even have the BEEEEANS!" I can't resist smiling as she starts poking and prodding at my pawpads. "You look SO!! AMAZING!!"

Corvid-girl starts frantically complimenting all my animalistic features - "Your stripes are so pretty!" "I love your tail!" "Ohh, your fangs, they're so COOL!!" - and I start uncontrollably blushing. I never would have thought species affirmation would feel this euphoric… Naturally, being a teenager, she takes this as an excuse to push even harder, and I start covering my face with my paws, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You look just like the tigers they have on stage for those shows in Vegas!"

"H-hey, that's actually not okay…"

"You know, I bet you'd look good up on a stage too! Everyone would love to see you!!"

Instinctually, I let out a growl, louder than I actually want to. It has the intended effect, in that she stops dead and stares at me, but so do a few other cafe patrons. Oh gods, here comes the embarrassment again… "H-hey, look, it's just…"

"Sorry." She's gone completely deadpan, and stiff as a board.

I close my eyes tightly. Gods, why did I DO that?? First the waitress at that seafood place, and now an actual CHILD. I REALLY need to start getting a handle on these predator instincts. When I open my eyes again, she's still standing there, and she looks like she's on the verge of a panic attack.

I need to calm her down, need to bring her back. "No… I'M sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I just… The animals they use for those stage shows get abused all the time, and it's kind of a sore spot for me."

"…Really?"

Okay, she's talking, she's distracted, maybe I can still salvage this. "Yeah… Every species has baggage, it's one of the shitty parts of being therian, and tigers, white tigers especially, they're treated like show pieces, or worse."

"…Well shit, I knew they're endangered, but… fuck."

"Yeah, it's a whole thing, I try not to -"

Our conversation is interrupted by one of the staff tapping corvid-girl on the shoulder and asking to talk privately. She reluctantly agrees to go to the back of the store and talk. At first I think maybe she's being chastised for being a disturbance, but the barista who pulled her away is giving me some very pointed looks. Worried looks, I might even say.

If I angle my ears just right, I can almost hear them through the noise of the rest of the cafe.

"…other patrons were concerned… …young lady so close to a dangerous creature…"

I wonder if the barista notices the indignant look that crosses my face when they describe me as a 'creature'.

Corvid-girl lets out that bird-like laugh of hers. Her voice is a lot more distinct and easier to pick out:

"It's just my aunt! She's not a 'creature', she just takes meds to look like that!"

The barista doesn't protest as corvid-girl returns to our table, but they're still giving me a very 'You'd better not try anything' kind of look.

Corvid-girl sits down, seemingly a little more grounded, a little more sobered. "…I guess I never thought to ask, why a white tiger?"

I lean forward, head in one paw, and give a bit of a shrug. "I relate a lot to them."

"To… being treated like a show piece, or whatever you said?"

"…Yeah. When I was little, they called me 'gifted' and put me in a separate school. I remember being excited about it, but it turns out it just meant getting more homework."

"…Ew."

I smile a little bit. "That's what I thought too! They wanted me to be some brilliant prodigy, a genius in the making, but the reality is I was just more observant and better at math than most people, that's all. I actually had to take an extra year of school because I was so bad at it."

"EWW!!"

"I KNOW, RIGHT?? But, then I went to college and graduated at the top of my class, so the joke's on them in the end."

"I wasn't even planning on staying around long enough for college…" She still has a bit of a depressed air about her, but she's not going into a panic. Maybe I'm better with kids than I thought.

"Yeah, I remember, you were going to turn into a beautiful crow and fly away forever." I try to give her a reassuring look. "But hey, the human world isn't ALL bad."

"Says the woman who's turning herself into a wild animal."

I snort quietly as I hold back a laugh. "Okay, fair, but wild animals don't get the internet, or nice little cafes where weirdos like us can just sit and talk."

"Hah, yeah… Weirdos like us." She gives a smile. An actual, genuine smile. Suddenly all the awkwardness is worth it, to see someone so deeply unhappy smile. "That reminds me, I saw on the server you're into witchcraft, can you… teach me?"

Somehow I feel like I should have expected this. The goth-looking crow girl is into witchcraft, big surprise. "I… guess? Maybe? I'm not like an expert or anything, I've just read a few books and cast a few spells is all."

"Ooh, what kind of spells??" And now she's back to her enthusiastic self.

"Just some protective charms on people who needed them, a few card readings with a tarot deck, nothing much really…"

"Does it really work??"

"I mean, the people I cast those charms on ended up safe in the end, but who knows if what I did made a difference? Some of the card readings were scary-accurate though, I think I might have a talent for divination."

She laughs. "Gonna have to get you to read my future sometime."

We end up spending the next hour or so making small talk, getting to know each other, talking about the ins and outs of humanity removal, complaining about Dr. Erian, until…

"Hey, I gotta go catch the bus back home, but… this was nice." She gives a bit of a smirk. "Cool to meet another weirdo."

Before she leaves, I ask her name - I still don't know it, I've been internally calling her 'corvid-girl' this entire time.

She gives me a disgusted grimace. "Ugh, it's 'Margaret'. I'm named for my great-grandmother, it's SUCH an old-lady name."

"Margaret, like Maggie, as in magpie?" I smile a little. "Those are corvids too, you know."

Her expression softens a little. "…Never thought of that. Still don't like it, though…"

"Well, is there a name you'd like better? I can start calling you that if you like."

She freezes. Somewhere in her eyes I can see her mind working to process what I've just said. "…Nobody ever asked me that before. I'll… think about it." She turns to leave.

"Wait, hold on a sec."

"WHAT!?" She outright glares at me, then seems to soften. "Sorry, it's… never mind."

That… was an EXTREMELY sudden mood shift. Trauma response, maybe? "I… was just going to ask if you wanted a sandwich or something to take home."

"…Didn't bring any money…"

I shake my head a little. "That doesn't answer my question. Would you like me to BUY you a sandwich or something?"

"…Egg salad if they got it I guess…"

I go up to the counter and buy her an egg salad sandwich to go. She looks like she's going to cry when I hand it to her. I… probably shouldn't make a big deal about that, but somewhere deep inside, my heart breaks a little. Does she never have anyone just… offer her food?

I'm beginning to understand why she wants to leave behind the curse of humanity. I chose this path, I wanted to be a tiger, I'm running towards something. Corvid-girl, though? She's running away from something.

I walk her outside, and she starts to walk away, but suddenly stops, and turns back to me. She walks resolutely up to me, then grabs me in a hug.

"Soft…" Her voice is muffled against both my shirt and the fur underneath. "You're very soft…"

Once I get over my surprise at the sudden gesture, I hesitantly put one arm around her shoulders and pat her on the back. She pulls away after a few short moments, and walks away down the sidewalk without another word.

I touch my shirt where her head was leaning, and notice a small wet spot.

---

Time to play "Spot the References!" Intentional references below:

"something about a 'foolish undine'" - welldrawnfish (Fish HRT)

"the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl" - ayviedoesthings (Dragon HRT)

"I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia" - ariathelamia (Lamia HRT)

"someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog" - sonic-spirit (Sonic HRT)

"watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes" - Rain, by Jocelyn Samara D. (Dragon HRT)

[gazs-blue-hat]

King!Johnny MacTavish x Siren!Reader (kinda FemOC, but she’s never given a proper name, descriptions, or anything. No Y/N either)

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Language, brief descriptions of injury and blood, storms (thunder and lightning), lots of ocean stuff (lmk if I missed any!)

AN- Dedicated to the lovely @sprout-fics who helped me out of my writing slump. Thank you forever friend. Another shout out to @deadbranch who indirectly inspired me to make pretty headings for my stuff! Thank you!

(Also, formatting may be weird due to me being on mobile)

Word Count: 2,802

There was a whisper on the breeze, as if the very sea itself was restless. Thunder cracks in the distance and lightning split the sky like some kind of beast tearing it open. Rain fell in sheets that created waves in the air, splashing against the tower of the castle upon the cliff face, mist settled against the glass paned doors of the royall chambers, creating droplets or condensation that clung to the glass before sliding down like tears on a face.

King John MacTavish pushed said doors open, his rough hands leaving prints in their wake. He should feel bad, but he knew the glass would be cleaned in the morning. Everything in his home was constantly being polished or shined or cleaned in some shape or form. He took a few large steps onto the stone balcony, his furs ruffling about his shoulders from the harsh wind. It was a dreadfully cold night out, his breath puffing before his face like the smoke from mythical dragons his ancestors claimed to have slain. He rested his hands on the salty parapet, scraping against stone that was constantly kissed by the sea. He looked out at the tempest, arms folding and shoulders sagging.

Oh the sea…

He sighed, his head hanging in a moment of pity for himself. He missed his old life. He missed the scent of the open ocean. He missed the feeling of the salt in his hair and the wheel in his hands. A ship captain turned king? Who would have thought? Certainly not him.

He looked down at his hands, rough from years of use on ships. Old calluses from harpoons and ropes slowly fading away from lack of use. His hands had never before been soft. They were a man’s hands, the hands of a warrior and of a worker. Not of…not of a cushy noble who sat in a castle all day.

He looked up, hearing the surf crash against the castle walls and feeling the mist settle on his shoulders. He turned his gaze to the churning depths below. The surf was rather high tonight, seeing as the moon was full and the tide was coming in. A particularly bright crack of lightning blinded him temporarily before the equally loud boom of thunder filled his ears.

The mighty captain turned king ducked and covered his ears, hands firmly protecting the one sense he truly was fearful of losing. His mind was filled with the memories of booming canons, the screams of men being torn apart by sabers and shrapnel from the exploding timbers of a ship. He stood, feeling the icy water spill onto his face as the rain hit the castle. He groaned and ran his hand down his face, feeling quite foolish for being spooked by a thing as simple as thunder. He used to take on giants of the deep without a drop of fear. Now he was simply jumping at shadows…

He scoffed and looked down at the swirling sea, watching as the foam and spray swirled in the wind. The tide rose again and a massive wave crashed against the cliff, momentarily blocking his view of the opposite shore. The water subsided and a low groan filled the air around him, seemingly coming from all directions. John spun, drawing his saber that he kept as his side at all times and pointing it at the space behind him. He checked the corners of his vision before slowly sweeping his attention across the empty balcony.

Nobody. There was nobody there. He sighed softly before sheathing the saber once more, turning to look out at the craggy shore. His eyes widened as he saw a woman, her skin scraped and scratched by the stones she now rested on.

“Steaming bloody Jesus…” the curse slipped from his mouth as he stormed back into his chambers, and hurried down the stairs. A few members of his staff yelped as he hurried down the stone steps, concerned for their king that was now trailing water through the castle. “Someone wake the surgeon! I may need her aid!” His voice boomed through the stone hallways and his Knight Captain nodded, the helmeted man clanking his way to the surgeon’s quarters.

John pushed open doors and hurried through the narrow halls until he made it to the docks behind the castle. Behind him, he could hear the rapid footsteps of the court surgeon following behind him. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Her words fell on deaf ears as he hopped over a low wall and scurried down the rocks to where he saw the woman. The surgeon growled in frustration while lighting a lantern, carrying it with her. “Damn it Johnny! Talk to me!” She ran behind him, ignoring the rain as it soaked her uniform and the utensils she had brought. “I can’t help if you don’t-“ she trailed off as Johnny held his arm up as he skidded to a halt, pointing at the woman who was laying on the stony shore.

Now that he was closer, he could see the jagged cuts and scratches along her body. He could see the blood staining the water red. He couldn’t see her lower half, seeing as the water was still lapping at her waist and the occasional wave rushed over her that would shift her entire form. He came closer, assisting the surgeon over the rocks as they got closer to the woman.

When they reached her, it was very clear she was in serious trouble. Her back was a mess of scars and scrapes, some older and some more recent. There was a series of marks on her back that Johnny identified all too well. She had been whipped, and aggressively too.

“I’m going to get a bed ready. Bring her to me and I’ll get her squared away.” She touched his shoulder and squeezed once. Reassuring him that she would be there if he needed her.

“Cmon lass…let’s get you warm..” his words were soft as he gently placed a hand on the injured woman’s shoulder. She didn’t move and she was freezing to the touch, giving Johnny cause to assume she was dead. He sighed heavily as he closed his eyes, resting more of his hand on her shoulder. His eyes snapped open when he felt her move. That same groan from before filling the air. He turned her over without thinking, ready to administer aid, hands hovering over her torso in the position the surgeon had taught him when he froze. She had…scales

Scales the likes of which he had never seen before. They were iridescent little things, trailing up her hips to her navel before becoming freckles against her skin. His eyes locked on her skin, the soft but cold skin of her torso that was covered in scratches and cuts. As his eyes trailed upwards, he could see that her upper torso was also coated in scales, a lighter shade than that of her hips that decorated her clavicle and upper arms. They were tiny things, glittering in what faint light he could see.

Her breath came shallowly and he placed his hand on her neck, feeling for a pulse. He had no idea if humans had the same anatomy as her kind, but he figured he’d try for a pulse anyway. A weak beat danced under his fingers and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was alive, for now at least. He was itching to learn more about this creature that had washed up on his shore but his thoughts were interrupted when a rather rough wave crashed over the rocks and soaked the king to the bone, or…more soaked than he already was.

“Oh for fuck’s sa-“ his curses died on his tongue as a bright bolt of lightning illuminated the source of the mermaid’s troubles. Her tail, which had been pushed into the shore by the incoming waves, was now visible for him to see. A massive amalgamation of fishing line, netting, and various hooks and harpoon heads had embedded itself deep into the flesh of the appendage and was cutting into her. “Oh lass…no wonder you couldn’t swim. Especially in this tempest…”

He sighed softly and shifted to grab his saber, removing it from the sheath. He shrugged off his coat and draped it across the mermaid’s tail, not resting his weight on her directly. The fur squished uncomfortably under his fingers and it was quickly stained by the blood flowing from the wound on her tail. With expert hands, he worked to slice the mess of string and metal free from the tail of the mermaid, being careful to not cut the injured flesh more. He removed most of the line with little issue, tossing it to the side and out of the water. The hooks were next and as he knelt closer to remove one, he looked back.

Eyes as stormy as the sea were looking back at him and he felt his blood run cold. They were slitted, like the eyes of the great cats from the stories back East and they were filled to the brim with rage. He raised his hands and held them above his head. “Easy…easy. I was just cutting them free. It won’t be pleasant, but you’ll be swimming in no time. Just…hold still.” He spoke softly, like one would to a wounded animal to get it to come closer. The mermaid didn’t move to attack him, instead she closed her eyes and lay back on the rocks, breathing heavily.

Johnny slowly and carefully removed the hooks from her tail, seeing how the fins were tattered and torn. Whatever scuffle this mermaid had gotten into, she had been lucky to escape it. Once the final hook was removed and he had tossed it to the side, he sat up, proud of his work. The tail was still wounded and blood still stained the rocks and water around them, but she wasn’t trapped by them anymore. He smiled and moved to get up when the large muscles of the tail twitched into life, spinning him into the water flat on his back.

He felt the water of the sea surge over his face as he fell back, a rock scraping across his shoulder painfully. He felt firm hands on his chest and when the waves receded, the face of the mermaid was above him.

Her glare was sharper than the rocks they found themselves on and colder than the rain that fell in sheets over the churning sea. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth opened to form a hiss. Her teeth were razors, sharper than a shark’s and probably just as deadly. Johnny couldn't move, his arms pinned by the waves and the sheer strength of the woman pinning him down. He felt her inhale against him, deep and long until she screeched.

The sound was deafening. Johnny covered his ears as the mermaid, no, siren shouted at him. The rocks rumbled under his scrambling grasp and his eyes watered in pain. The siren surged over him, diving into an incoming wave and leaving him with a slap to the face with her powerful tail. Johnny could only watch the lightning lit waves for any sign of the mythical being, but he was met with nothing but churning water and spraying foam.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood on the shore but eventually the surgeon came back, a lantern held tightly in her grip. “Where did the woman go? Don’t tell me she-“ Johnny held up his hand and showed her the collected scales. They had broken off the siren’s tail as he was working on getting the hooks out. The surgeon took the scales and held them to the light, inspecting them.

“Wasnae a woman. It was something else…” His words were soft and his accent thick. The rain had stopped a while ago but he couldn’t remove his gaze from the sea. Something there was calling to him, and it caused an ache in his heart to be away from it. If John MacTavish had longed for the sea before, he was now enraptured by it.

For the entire walk back to the castle, his eyes were locked on those tumbling waves, searching and seeking for a glimpse of a tail, or of skin. A glimpse of her.

“I’ll see you again Bonnie. I swear it.”

[draconesmundi]

Dracones Mundi infographics to explain some of the dragon design features in my project :3

Image IDs in alt text or below the cut:

A labelled diagram depicting a dragon’s head. Labels are: ear slit. Wattle on horn that looks like an ‘ear’. Dorsal finlets made of thick skin. Overlapping osteoderms like Vancleavea (accompanied by Vancleavea fossil photo). Overall appearance inspired by pseuedosuchians, including extant crocodiles (accompanied by skeletal mount of Prestosuchus and a photo of a baby Nile crocodile). Smoother scales on belly for sliding though mud into bodies of water. ‘Beard’ or jaw wattle of thick skin. Rear venom fang, full of cytotoxic venom. The dragon can ‘spit’ like a spitting cobra, and the cytotoxins are similar to those found in puff adder venom. Lots of different snakes inspire dragon venom (accompanied by diagram of snake skull).

A dragon family tree accompanied by a paragraph of text. Text reads: There is a lot of morphological diversity in Dracones Mundi – dragons all evolved from a type of pseudosuchian, and had a basic ‘four legs and a long tail' body plan. Many families have atrophied their hind limbs, many have small legs and more serpentine shape. Dragon wings are not limbs, but patagium spread between osteoderm spokes, so there is a diversity in wing size and function (display, thermoregulation, camouflage) beyond gliding (only the flying serpent family really use them for gliding…). Flight is achieved by magic.

The dragons on the family tree are: turtle dragons, such as the cucafera. Firedrakes, azhdar and long are in one family. ‘Beast dragons’ such as the tatzelwyrm. ‘Feathered serpents’ such as coameh. Wyverns and cockatrices. Flying serpents or ‘amphitheres’. Wyrms and serpents. Sea serpents and lake monsters.

[morganbritton132]

I need Eddie's jealous moments!!!!!

yk... for research

Eddie once came home from a three-week stint playing shows in middle-of-nowhere Ohio to find a man sitting on his couch. Steve was newly diagnosed and newly moved in, and Eddie was prepared for anything.

Except for a man sitting on his couch. A very distinctly Tommy H-shaped man, sitting way too comfortably and way too close to his boyfriend. On his couch.

Eddie was expecting throw pillows not – “Hagan.”

“Munson.”

Eddie wasn’t due back until tomorrow and Steve is surprised to see him, and he’s happy. He lights up like Christmas, but this is not the homecoming that Eddie was expecting. He still gets a hug, but it doesn’t linger and it doesn’t lead to where he wants them to go (the bedroom). Steve awkwardly pats him on the shoulder when he pulls away like they’re bros.

It’s kind of obvious that Steve had some of his jock friends from high school over to watch the game because the people on tv are talking about sports and there’s a letterman jacket too big for Steve or Tommy forgotten on the kitchen floor. The fact that Tommy is the only one that remains irks Eddie though.

It sets his teeth on edge, especially when Steve settles back on the couch and Tommy refills the space next to him like they were still friends. Tommy throws his arm over Steve’s shoulder, absently touching his hair the way that he always did in school. Steve might not notice it, but Eddie does.

It ain’t subtle. Not to Eddie, who knows what it looks like to be in love with Steve Harrington.

He’s not dumb. Eddie might be out of town just as much as he’s in it nowadays, but he knows what the rumors are about why Steve is living here. He also knows that if he was the one harboring a crush on a boy since grade school and there was even the slightest change that he might be gay than Eddie would be here too. Testing the waters.

Too bad for Tommy though because this is Eddie’s pool.

Despite the loud and obnoxious presence pressed up against Steve’s side and Steve awkwardly reintroducing them to each other, Eddie still asks, “You have people over?”

“Wayne said it was okay.”

“Course it is,” Eddie grinned. “You live here, sweetheart.”

Steve tells Eddie how Tommy was home from college for the long weekend and about the game of telephone that led to him hosting his friends. He even tells Eddie how he recorded the game on tape to watch with Wayne later. Eddie listens and he maybe agreed to watch the rerun with them, but he’s waiting. He’s watching Tommy squeeze the back of Steve’s neck and make some joke that’s not funny, and he’s waiting.

And it happens.

Steve asks Eddie how his shows went, and Eddie grins. He’s not an insecure man. Not about Steve and not about their relationship. Tommy can make all the moves he wants, Eddie knows where Steve’s sleeping tonight. So, he grins.

He startles them both with a running jump onto the coffee table and he takes up all the attention in the room, Tommy left an afterthought. Eddie regales his time in the far off land of Ohio. He paints a perilous picture of nights driving through cornfields and cows like an adventure. He recounts their shows like he’s slaying a dragon, and he draws Steve in like he knew he would.

He physically draws Steve closer, crouching down in front of him and putting his hands on his shoulders. One hand slides up to caress his cheek, and Steve leans into the touch. Eddie pulls him forward until he’s barely on the couch at all and Tommy is left leaning against nothing, and then Eddie pulls him to his feet.

High school Steve probably would’ve sneered at the Eddie of it all, but this Steve – his Steve – laughs and lets Eddie pull him where the story needs to go. He drags Steve through the living room as he weaves a tale in movement about Corroded Coffin’s harrowing battle against the one lone preacher protesting devil music.

Their feet get tangled together when Eddie zigs and Steve zags, and they end up toppled into Wayne’s favorite chair. Steve laughs in that way that squishes his whole face and he tells him without thought, “Missed you.”

Eddie knows that those are words that Tommy wants to hear. He knows the taste of a friendship lost and he knows that Tommy wants this, but this isn’t high school anymore. Tommy can’t just take what he wants. It’s a deep and settling smugness playing on Eddie’s lips because this his and he says, “I know.”

Tommy leaves with very little fanfare. Forest Hills may not be a castle, but it’s Eddie’s domain and Steve is a very captive audience. Tommy, at least, knows when to admit defeat.

He’s standing on the gravel outside of the trailer when he says, “I’ll drive you to that appointment Monday. What time was it?”

Before Steve could say anything, Eddie’s throwing his arm over Steve’s shoulder. He gives Tommy a grin that’s all sharp corners as he threads his fingers into Steve’s hair and tugs on it, “Don’t worry about it, Tommy-boy. I’ll handle it.”

Eddie only kinda feels like an asshole when he smudges Tommy’s name off the calendar stuck to the fridge later that night, but then he gets into his bed for the first time in three weeks. Steve curls up closer and Eddie finds it really hard to care about anything else.

[asthmaticplushiedragon]

In honor of season 5 I present:

The Samadhi Fire: Chemistry Analysis

The Samadhi Fire has dark red flames, which are obviously only supposed to show us how incredibly hot and inextinguishable they are, but as a chemistry nerd I feel obliged to look more into it.

The Basics

In nature, Red flames are most commonly produced by burning of Lithium (Li). Lithium is an Alkali metal, a group of elements known for burning when touching Oxygen or hydrogen - meaning spontaneous and immediate burns when touching air. And, well, who kept on burning until they literally split the flames? That's right, our boy Red Son.

In The First Ring Princess Iron Fan says that Red Son was a "promising addition to the Demon Bull Family. Too promising". No one predicted the Samadhi Fire, it was spontaneous. like the burning of Lithium. In JTTW they needed an entire fucking ocean to put it out, a terrible idea when we're talking about Alkali metals (that also burn in reaction to water), but. fine. okay. it's an Alkali metal that burns in red, so it's lithium.

The Splitting Ritual

During the ritual, Tripitaka used magic to hold the fire while they separate the fire into three - an act that would obviously be impossible according to science, but we'll let it slide. So assuming this can separate the fire: what would it be separated to? Lithium is an element, you can't just split it. That would cause an atomic explosion. So what is it?

The answer is that it's not pure Lithium - that kind of substance is extremely unstable. the substance burning in the Samadhi fire is a molecule called Lithium Chloride (LiCl), and the ritual was a simple chemical reaction that turned the Lithium Chloride, with a little bit of Copper, to Lithium and Copper Chloride, with a reaction i will explain in the next part.

The Rings And Mei's Ritual

In her vision, Mei sees three rings, each burning in a different color. in the original JTTW lore the fire is made out of all the elements combined, so that's how i'm going to refer to it. But, like, also scientifically correct.

We have the orange fire, created with Calcium Chloride and representing Fire, mainly with its color.

next is Blue, created either with Alcohol or Copper Chloride and representing water with the molecule shape and type (alcohol is a type of a molecule build, and although water fits this category it is an exception and is NOT considered an alcoholic molecule).

and lastly there's the green fire, which is created with Copper Sulfate and represents earth, because Copper in one of the most common Precious Metals found inside the earth.

The original ritual starts with one Copper chloride ring, one Copper Sulfate ring, one Calcium Sulfate ring, and a big ass Lithium Chloride fire.

Then we have a chemical reaction when Tripitaka uses his magic, and it turns into one Copper Sulfate ring, one Copper Chloride ring, one Calcium Chloride ring and a harmless little Lithium Sulfate that hardly ever set fire.

Mei's ritual is kinda just the opposite, but with a big twist: when Lithium Chloride is created it releases a heat wave much hotter than its regular burning, creating white sparks. In the beginning of the ritual we can literally see a huge flash of light before the fire is created.

Ao Lie And The fourth Ring

There wasn't supposed to be a fourth ring. Sun Wukong said it clearly. He lost control and Ao Lie had to take the hit so Tripitaka doesn't die, turning himself to the fourth ring. Now, is this chemically possible? Of course not! So what is going on here?

Well, what if Ao Lie used the copper inside his bones and muscles to trap the fire inside a Copper Sulfate "ring", like the green one? He used the chemical reaction of the fire with his body (and probably a lot of magic, too) to make a ring inside of himself, trapping the last bit of fire. That would also explain how Mei has the fourth ring - it's like a defective gene, it's inside her bones. That could be the reason for her dragon form's "fire breathing" even before the ritual happened, she literally has fire in her bones.

Mei's Control Of The Fire

When Mei just gained control over the fire, the flames were red, like with Red Son before. She tried to use the fire like him, with lithium Chloride as her base. But she was afraid of the fire and didn't understand what's happening, so the fire was reckless and couldn't be tamed. It was affected by her feelings, and she simply couldn't control five different parts of the fire at the same time.

"Don't use the fire, Mei. BE the fire". It was only after Red Son told her this that she managed to really bend the fire to her will - because she used the copper inside of her to catch the fire and make it part of her, truly. She discharged the other rings and even the original burning Lithium and used the fire on her own terms, with Copper Sulfate as the base.

Minor spoilers for season 5!

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When the Dragon fruit Duo try to seal the Fire Creature Mei loses control, which shouldn't have happened according to this theory. If the fire is inside her bones, she shouldn't lose her ability to control it.

But look at what Red Son tells her (Translation by monkiemacaque on Youtube!): "You evolved with the fire! You didn't completely lose your connection, and never once gave in to its will! You are its master!"

Mei never lost her ability to control the fire, it was still there. The only problem was that it was inaccessible for her - it's like a reflex, it's an irrational response and she can't use it on command. Mei had to learn how to force the fire to obey her will, how to turn her reflexes to rational actions. Like how Red Son used to punch himself to activate the fire.

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I hope this was clear and easy to understand, I can try and explain more if not.

I don't think there's much to add, but let me know if i forgot anything!

Only thing I think is worth mentioning is that in some shots the flames are black, which is also impossible because. you can't make black (AKA lack of light) fire (AKA light source).

Also have these parallel screenshots I didn't know what to do with.

[unfriendlyamazon]

The Coral Comb (inn for spirits short)

rating: T for Teen

pairings: Jounouchi Katsuya/Kaiba Seto

summary:

Jounouchi is called to attend to the demon lord, and can't help but feel like a fly in a spider's trap.

i decided at the last minute that demon lord kaiba needs long beautiful hair, and thus this little short was born. possibly not canon, who knows, not i.

part of my spirit inn au

Jounouchi sucked in a breath as he stood outside the fusuma of Lord Kaiba’s private quarters. It was a separate building down a rocky path past the hot springs. The sloped roof covered the engawa that overflowed with wisteria and hakone. Cherry trees framed the outside, painting the dark landscape with pinks. It faced the bay, where the lights of the distant city reflected off the water. The sun rose behind the tall structure of the inn as morning came. Jounouchi slid open the door. The front room was sunken to the rest of the house with an elaborate iron irori warming coals in its sunken pit. He crossed to the bedroom, gently sliding the door open. A large bed, slightly raised with dark blue silk sheets laid across it, took up one side of the room. Across from the door was a short vanity. A rounded mirror was ornately decorated with two dragons that curled up both sides, meeting in the center with open maws. In the mirror reflected the face of Kaiba Seto. He was half-dressed, the blue yukata he wore pooling around his shoulders, and his long dark hair rolled down his shoulders like a ribbon. His blue eyes met Jounouchi’s in the mirror. He did not turn to greet him.

“You rang?” Jounouchi said.

Kaiba didn’t blink. “Don’t just stand there. I have a task for you.”

Jounouchi huffed out a breath, and he crossed the threshold. The demon’s eyes watched him in the mirror as he walked to his back. 

“Sit,” the lord said.

Jounouchi ground down on his teeth. “What do you need?”

“Sit,” he repeated, and with a breath, Jounouchi got to his knees behind him. “You’ve only one task today, Here.”

His hand outstretched, and in it he held a single comb. It was coral in color, in the shape of a seahorse, with five prongs protruding in a soft curve. It was cool in Jounouchi’s fingers, and his hand felt too big, too rough to hold such a delicate item.

“I’ve washed my hair,” Kaiba said, sweeping his hair so it fell down his back. “I need someone to brush it.”

Jounouchi’s fist curled around the comb. He stood straight up. “You know what–”

Kaiba’s eyes rolled. He didn’t turn around. “I thought you would be pleased. You spend your days scrubbing floors and dishes, and I offer you something simple. Do you know what I pay my attendants?”

“At least scrubbing floors is honest work,” he said.

“Sit, Jounouchi,” Kaiba repeated. “I do not ask you to bathe me, or anoint me with oils. My hair is too long to brush myself. I only need your assistance.”

“That's it, huh,” he muttered. “And how much of my debt is this knocking off?”

“Enough,” Kaiba said.

Jounouchi looked at the comb, and he knelt back down. He took a long wet strand of Kaiba's hair in hand and yanked the comb through it. Kaiba's head went back with a jerk, and he hissed.

“Not so hard!” he snapped. “Is this how you brushed your sister's hair?”

Jounouchi's fingers curled, twisting ribbons of hair in his fist. “What did you say?”

“You surely have,” he said.

“How would you know?”

His blue eyes lit in the mirror, striking straight to Jounouchi's chest. “I know many things, Jounouchi. I do not take my debts lightly.”

His grip loosened. He swept his fingers through the soft strands and brought the comb to the crown of his head. This time Jounouchi was softer with his touch. He pulled the comb through, pausing where tangles began to form, sweeping down to the floor. The grimace on his face softened as he fell into his work.

The room was quiet, beside the bubbling of the private hot spring outside. A music box played a soft melody, plucking strings like a lyre. Kaiba smelled only clean, with a hint of sandalwood. He could imagine the lord laying his pretty silk clothing across the incense so it warmed with vapors.

As Jounouchi parted the hair to brush, he caught sight of Kaiba's back, and his brow furrowed. Long scars criss crossed the speckled skin, and from the scars grew more of the shimmering scales. His knuckles brushed one by accident, and he felt Kaiba shiver.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Kaiba didn't blink in the mirror. “I'm not ashamed of them. They've made me who I am today.”

Jounouchi combed through the dark hair, eyes down. He had his own scars, and they were a tapestry of all the things he'd like to forget.

“It makes sense,” he said quietly. “A demon lord should have some battle scars.”

His expression was unflinching, his mouth curved down. “If I let someone touch me in battle, I'd hardly be a lord.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Have you actually been in battle?”

Kaiba’s lips were a thin line. Jounouchi went quiet again. He brushed the comb down the long strands of hair. They were soft and smooth, and he wondered what he washed them with, if there was some magical potion the demon lord had, or if they got Head & Shoulders on this side of the door. He wondered if Kaiba would make him brush it a hundred times.

And after a while, well, Jounouchi felt calmed by the repetitive action. The soft strands, the cool comb, the rise and fall of Kaiba’s chest. It smoothed together like a shell washed over by ocean waves. Jounouchi felt cocooned in it, and he wondered for a moment if this was how the fly felt as the spider wove its trap.

“I still can’t imagine,” Jounouchi said, breaking the silence of the room, “why you’d want me.”

Kaiba’s cold expression didn’t change as he watched him in the mirror. “I’ve already explained my reasons.”

“Oh, come on.” Jounouchi shook his head with a smile. “Look at this place. Look at you. Everything’s so refined and perfect. Even this. I feel like I’m going to break this comb in half.”

He scoffed. “My things are not so delicate.”

“Yeah, but–” Jounouchi sucked in a breath. “If you know about my sister, if you know about me, then you know what I was doing before I met you. Who I was working for. How I scraped by. My hands are–”

He swallowed. The comb shook in his palm. Calloused and made rough by fights, his knuckles curled indelicately around the beautiful piece. His nails were jagged and broken, and the scars on his skin weren’t from noble battles that crafted a lord. They chipped away at his exterior, leaving a shattered statue waiting to be swept to dust.

He gasped when he felt the lord’s hand squeeze his own, tightening his grip on the comb. His own palm was smooth, the carefully filed talons and pale skin the picture of a demon lord. His grip was strong, stronger than Jounouchi expected, and he looked up into his bright blue eyes. His mouth sneered back, showing the sharp teeth underneath.

“I said,” Kaiba repeated, “my things are not so delicate. A pretty piece of porcelain can be shattered on a whim, but stone is carved, Jounouchi Katsuya. It takes hammers and steel and the sharpest blade and the roughest paper to smooth to a piece of art. I do know you, and I do know what your hands have done.”

He released his palm slowly, pulling the comb from his fingers and pressing Jounichi’s hand to his cheek. The scales were smooth, and the seemingly delicate skin did not break beneath his calloused touch.

“My scars show me what I have endured,” Kaiba said. “As do yours. I do not feel shame at them, and neither should you.”

Kaiba curved Jounouchi’s palm, and he stared as the lord brought his knuckles to his lips. The kiss he placed was too chaste, too light. The feeling overwhelmed him, and Jounouchi yanked his hand back. Kaiba only watched him, unblinking, as inscrutable as always.

“You’ve done your duty well enough,” the lord said. “I can finish readying myself.”

“Y-yeah,” Jounouchi said, rising to his feet. “Thanks.”

He didn't wait for the lord to reply. He clutched his hand tight to his chest and hurried back up to the inn. Jounouchi had spent his whole life as a hammer, and it was the first time he’d felt like a flower. It made his chest tight, and his hands tremble. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be led astray by an ayakashi, to feel its warmth and its comfort and get lost forever.

And he had to wonder, would staying lost be so bad after all?

[hcdragonwrites]

Home (a jttw fanfic- @journey-to-the-au )

Inspired by @journey-to-the-au artwork. Here is the art -

This is a POV thats gender neutral and meant to let you slide into the comfort of found family. So. Enjoy!

The sun was just settling down for the night. It cast its scarlet hues across the earth, through the trees and over the sky. It painted in water colors a twilight so full of hues to rival any master artist in the capitals of the Empire left behind so far back.

The road had been long today, the rocky mountains pass full of dust that Ba Longma tossed with his hooves and the rest of the pilgrims stirred. The mountain dust covered you, the sun had baked you, and you felt like a steamed bun. Since joining the little group of travelers you had seen fantastical things: fruit in the shape of babes, demons who could shape change, gods who could cast helpful or harmful hands.

You had been part of schemes, of fights, of plots, and of mediations between the pilgrims. It had been a long several years of hardship and laughter, of sorrow and joys. You had earned your place among the pilgrims. The respect of Tripataka who appreciated having another level head among them. The sibling like rivalry between Bajie and Wukong and their antics of pranks, trickery and teasing. Wujie and you had respect and kindness grown from the shared love of silent peace and tea. He was more of an uncle, this ex general, than anything you had experienced before.

And Ba Longma? The dragon horse may not say much but he loves to take a bit of clothing and chew contentedly on you. He would try and swish flies from your face and, if you came back with a bit of fruit or a sweet, he always had his ears forward and was wickering in excitement. The pilgrims held affection for you. Some as a elder sibling would to a younger, others as a father or grandpa to a relative.

“Let’s rest here for the night.”Tripataka relented and you practically fell onto the nearest rock. Your feet aches your legs cramped, and you felt dusty as if you had been rolled in flour.

You played your part. You set up the bed rolls along with Wujie. You gathered water with Wukong, who would not let you carry a thing- he just wanted to have someone to chatter to about the day. Ba Longma was brushed down and settled with oats and an apple that Wukong had begged off of the last villagers. As Bajie cooked the rice you sat with Tripataka, learning as much as you could of the scriptures he so adored and read over. They were worn with use and love.

Full bellies around a fire as the breeze of spring still ran chill in the air. The fire cast shadows dancing up the little alcove of rock and grasses that made up the clearing of the camp. You stretched and yawned.

First watch was yours this night- and if you didn’t prop yourself up against the rough looking stone and get into the most uncomfortable position, you would fall asleep. Warm food and good camaraderie always were a balm to the soul. It wasn’t this peaceful. Sometimes Wukongs pranks would go to far. Some nights Bajie have into his earthly hungers and wanted to cling to missing meats and the comfort of women. Tripataka may be disquieted on the prospect of the journey or Ba Longma may have taken to irritableness at the length of the day.

You were all people- having come together for one common purpose, from a multitude of backgrounds. It was bound to happen that harsh words were said, tempers flared, and feelings were hurt.

The pilgrims were a family in a sense. The strangest family perhaps, but still a family.

You yawned again, feeling the fires warmth at your back growing distant with each step. You muttered something- something along the lines of tired, of longing for sleep- and you did not realize the mistake.

For Wukong, ever vigilant to all things, had heard your mumbling and had perked. His ears twitched, his tail swayed and his smile became sly.

“Tired you say?” The Sages voice was light and lilting, playful in tones that you knew meant mischief was afoot. You turned to see the monkey come up behind you.

“Wukong…” you half asked, half stated his name. He held his arms open like he was offering a hug.

“Bajie.” The sage asked his brother, who blinked bakc to waking. “Don’t you think our little Sibling deserves some rest ?”

The pig demon looked between you and Wukong and sensed a game was to be played. Sometimes the other disciple was in direct opposition. Other times he was just as wily as the old stone monkey. Tonight it seemed he was of the former.

“I saw our fellow Sibling stumble much on the trail. In fact,” Bajie held up a hand, counting on his fingers, “I saw them stumbled a total of twelve times.”

“Brother Wujie…” Wukong turned his eye on the other disciple. The River demon huffed.

“They should not be the one to take the first watch.” Wujie tapped the side of his teacup, holding it out to blow the steam away. “For there steps today have been weighed down with many a rough and sleepless night.”

“It is settled then—“ Wukong held his arms out, stepping closer. “Come give your Elder a hug.”

You turned to Trip, entreating the monk. Whatever game Wukong was playing, you did not want a part in. You had first watch. It had been decided the day before. It was non negotiable.

Tripataka opened an eye, looking at his disciples and the advancing elder on the youngest of the group. He simply closed his eye.

“I cannot have the younger wearing themselves out.” Was that the faintest hint of a smile ? Wukong stepped closer and you stepped back. You knew the monkey wouldn’t hurt you. But — he was planning something. Ba Longma snorted at your look, flashing his teeth in a horsey grin as if saying I agree !

Of course - even though it was foolish- you turned to run. A playful run because there was no threat of danger- just of capture. Bajie chortled as Wukong leapt. Of course he chased you around the camp. As you played a musical game of keep away the others smiled. You dodged behind the monk, danced a ring around the fire, tired to throw Bajie at the impish monkey.

Wukong was toying with you- enjoying the play. These games reminded him of home- you reminded him of home. The willingness to cause mischief but remain firm when it went too far- the want to tell jokes and tease and taunt along with him- it all reminded him of that beautiful mountain covered in the scents of ripening fruits and soft flowery fields. So of course he played chase, letting you slip and wear yourself out.

Wukong knew how to tend to children of all ages and he saw you as one of his own- one of his own family. He had knowledge of wearing littles out. He was a grandfather after all.

Then one stumble of your legs and he had grown larger then a bear and swooped. Suddenly you were rolled in fur and laughter as the Monkey king caught you up and settled. He held you like a babe, arms crossed over your middle and his eyes sleepily peaking from beneath lids. You pushed to get out, wiggled and wormed for a bit of give. There was none to be had.

Wukong blew air into your hair, tussled you and rolled, setting you and he within the ring of firelight.

“I think our little sibling should go to bed now don’t you brothers ?” An uproarious agreement from all- Even Trip who had been smiling at the antics- was heard. You argued that you were needed to take first watch.

Wujie rose. “I will take it.”

You tried to say you weren’t pulling your weight. To your surprise it was Longma who broke his horse silence with words.

“You pull more weight, carry more burdens, and lighten our days. Rest is what little we can give back for companionship.”

You flustered, faltered, and fell silent. Wukong simply poked your side and elicited more laughter.

“You won’t let me go even if I begged ?” You asked. The great monkey opened one large red eye, the golden iris like the flash of golden rings on a lady’s hand.

“No.” He mumbled then pulled you closer in, curling and blocking the world. The warmth of the fur was welcome- the spring still held winters teeth and tonight they sought to bite and drive frost across the ground. The great orange fur was soft, the heartbeat like the roar of an ocean calling you home. And, though you were grumpy to have your decision taken from you, you soon found that sleep was a greater enemy.

It won in the end, as your hands curled into the fur, pulled into the warm and beating safety that Wukong offered. Nowhere in the world was as peaceful or as full of gentle warmth as here. Among the pilgrims, on this strange and desolate mountaintop, you felt more at home and full of love then in any city, village, or palace you had crossed.

[aylish91]

You! You beautiful, creative, amazing person! It's your fault I got back into the fandom and now I'm hyperfocused on Leviathan!Tale, again! (No but seriously your works are amazing and you should be proud of yourself!)

I have a request for Leviathan!Tale, (if you have the time) when did the reader join the shiver? And how? Were they wondering alone? Maybe almost killed off for being different? How did the others react to reader joining? Were they scared and refused to eat unless Nightmare or Dream was near?

Hello beautiful Anon! I deeply apologize for how long this has taken me to get to. I have kept it and hoarded it like a dragon with its precious treasure. It has brought me such great joy every time I reread it.

I have made this for you, dear friend. I hope you are still with us undertale folk, and thank you! May you find answers within these chapters!

For those looking for the new/fresh chapter:

or below

~~~

New awakenings

Ugh.

You did not feel quite right. Your body was heavy and ached like you were coming down from a fever, lungs and throat burning and agitated. Guess it serves you right for going out on such a stormy night. Shrine Rock was sketchy to traverse on the best of nights, what possessed you into thinking you could do it with no moon and turbulent seas?

Uuuugh. You could be extremely reckless sometimes, but at least you were alive. A bit worse for wear, but alive.

Shifting, you contemplated opening your eyes. Despite your condition, you were starving and needed to get up and ready. It would be the last morning in your childhood home on the island and you had to get to the ferry by nine if you were going to make the bus into the city. You could tell by the muted bickering of your neighbors that it was already far past time you should have woken.

Groaning, you rolled to reach for your phone, blanket tangling around your legs uncomfortably. Shifting again, you weren’t expecting your bed to move or something else to wrap around you. Eyes snapping open, a frightened gasp left you breathless.

You weren’t in a bed at all. You weren’t even in your house. Wrapped around you were absolutely massive tentacles boxing and encasing you within their mass. They were a deep black, hints of bioluminescence giving them an iridescent sheen.

Warm.

Alive.

R e a l.

You would have thought you were in some sort of dream if you couldn’t physically feel every panicked movement. It made you roll and squirm, trying to bring your legs up to brace yourself against them. It also made you realize why the blanket had been so uncomfortable.

There was no blanket. And there were no legs…

In place of your legs were a mass of bunched and tangled tentacles, much like the giant ones surrounding you. They were curled up close to your center, winding amongst themselves. Out of reflex, you pushed away from them, only to have them unfurl and chaotically flail around. It was uncanny how you could feel each individual limb as they whipped around.

Then, everything tumbled and moved, the larger tentacles sliding away to open to the outside. There was a drastic drop in temperature as water flowed around you. Your breath hitched. Hunching into yourself, you frantically looked around.

To your horror, an animated skeleton seemed to climb or slide over the top of one of the tentacles, black trailing down from its sockets with a shark’s lower body. The connection of bone and body was seamless from the lower ribs down, some sort of glowing energy in the shape of a target above its bony chest.

You couldn’t move as it spoke.

“Finally! Would ya look at that. You made a little you boss.” It swam closer. “How interesting.”

Another, larger, voice vibrated the water. “Killer—"

To say you had a bit of an overreaction was an understatement. Adrenalin swamped your systems when the creature came forward with an outstretched clawed hand. Crying out, your first reaction was to kick it away. However, without legs to kick, your tentacles were the things that lashed out.

Two smashed into the face of its skull as a third and fourth wrapped around their arm. Startled, the creature jerked backward with a yelp, pulling you further into the open. Your limbs tightened, the rest flailing and grabbing anything they could reach. In the end, you grappled both of its arms and the majority of its torso.

You both made undignified panicked noises as tentacles and fins thrashed about, each of you doing your best to simultaneously free yourself while attempting to maintain some sort of hold on the other. The glowing target pulsing above his sternum continued to glow brighter and more erratic. One of your tentacles almost made contact with it but the creature managed to grab the appendage with a desperate snarl before it could.

“Boss! Nightmare!” A different tentacle found an opening around an upper rib causing a choked gasp. “A little help!!?”

You were so preoccupied unwillingly wrestling that you missed the laughter building around you. It took the rising rumbling chuckle vibrating the water again before you noticed it all.

Why was it so familiar…

Water swirled around you before large dark skeletal hands gently took hold of you, slowly removing your offending appendages from their target. “Calm yourself little fish. Do not fear. You are safe here among my own.”

You stilled, eyes wide.

The great Guardian Nightmare, thought to have been nothing more than a dream, held you in his hand, his fabled servants hovering not too far past the edges of his great limbs.

His shiver of loyal sharks.

Skeletal Mer sharks…

All the stories and warnings your grandmother had ever told you swarmed your mind. Everything simultaneously made sense and didn’t. You had heard many stories of the guardians saving wayward travelers and those loyal to them. But you were regular old you.

Had you really been judged and chosen?

…

Your thoughts were interrupted by a skeletal mer with shimmering golden fins and eyelights appearing over Nightmare’s shoulder, their subtle glow stunning you into stillness.

Their voice was as soft and smooth as you had once imagined…

“We’re glad you are finally awake. We were beginning to worry.” Gliding closer, he smiled, just close enough to be friendly. “I’m Dream. It is lovely to finally meet face to face. Nightmare was quite quick to hide you away.” His eyelights brightened with a sly look back. “My brother seemed to think you were quite agreeable.”

The giant hand you were in pulled away, another coming to shield you from view. “Brother. Perhaps you could be more useful and take the others to fetch some nourishment. Their sleep has been unexpectedly long.”

Circling your living barrier, Dream chuckled, playfully twirling his body as he went. “Of course. This is quite the occasion. If I must, I will keep the others busy while you get them comfortable.” Flicking his tail, he slipped past the shiver to call over his shoulder. “Come along then. We wouldn’t want anyone else spooking them and ending up like Killer.”

The circling mer erupted in laughter once again, the mer from before giving an indignant squawk as he darted after the mischievous guardian. It wasn’t long before the sound of their teasing banter faded into the distance.

The tension in your shoulders and… limbs eased, your fears fading away. Settling into the palm, you idly wrapped around the large bony fingers as you processed. Despite how far down you seemed to be, the world seemed clear and bright. Sunken ships of various ages littered the open expanse around you, your host casually sprawled atop an old wooden vessel elevated atop a rocky platform.

You knew beyond shrine rock was referred to as the depths, but still. How had something like this never been discovered? None of this felt real. You didn’t feel real, but the subtle twitch of tentacles and the feel of the cool water around you kept you grounded.

Your Grandmother’s stories didn’t do any of this justice.

You took a breath and looked up when you felt everything shift, Nightmare’s low calming voice bringing you back to him. “You must be full of questions. It is not very often a mortal finds themselves within our realm.”

You did have a lot of questions, but they all swirled and meshed together until they stuck in your throat. What was appropriate to ask? How should you address such a being? What did he expect of you?

Looking into the dark skeleton’s singular eyelight, A sense of calm overtook you. You had already talked with him before. There was no need to be so afraid. No questions had been wrong and there was no proper way to speak with him. Simply being yourself had been enough.

He had been so curious, kind, and alluring…

Regaining your courage, you attempted your voice. It cracked and burned, but you managed. “I had thought all of this was a dream, but… If this is true, I offered you my… Shouldn’t I be…”

He hummed, socket lidding. “Dead? Indeed. But I did warn you. When you offered me your soul, I took it for myself. You live, because I breathed life back into it.”

You could feel the sting around your eyes. “Why?”

“You intrigue me. It is rare to find someone such as yourself and you had already proved your loyalty. Sometimes, for a being like me, that is all that is needed.”

You mulled that over as you fought your emotions. “You are a Guardian. A king of the deep abyss. You chose to save me, grant me one of your gifts, because I was Interesting?”

That same deep chuckle vibrated the water, his body moving to lean against the mast. “In a way, little fish, yes.” He paused, grin turning solemn. “As I said that night beneath my raging storms. I am a greedy and selfish creature. I found you upon that rock, worshiping a being you had never seen and who had been silent for a great many years. You were not angry or pleading when you witnessed my approach. You did not beg or demand anything of me. We spoke cordially, as if we were equals. And when I then offered you my most coveted of gifts, you instead offered me that which was most sacred of yourself.” Tilting his head, he delicately ran a clawed bony finger under and along a few of your tentacles. “For that, you have earned my favor. Whether from my own greed or your appealing nature, it matters not. I have already claimed you as my own.”

Just like the night you died, you found yourself in utter awe of him, a warmth spreading through your chest from his admission. You couldn’t help redirecting away from yourself and your bubbling mix of feelings.

With a shaky chuckle of your own, you playfully looked up. “You might regret this later, you know. Look at me, I don’t even know how to tentacle properly.” As if by fate, one immediately jerked back to smack you in the face, making you grunt and quickly shove it back down.

The Guardian, much to your embarrassment, did a good job holding back a laugh, only letting out a quick rush of air… water?... before hiding behind an amused smile. “You will learn in time. You are still young and new. A pup does not learn everything in a single day.” He turned his head. “Isn’t that right, Cross?”

Your entire body twitched when you followed his gaze. A skeletal shark mer with one red and one white eyelight hovered a little away from the mass of Nightmare’s tentacles. The thing that struck you the most, however, was the jacket and belts he wore despite being underwater. The jacket was black and white with a fine amount of floof around the edges while two belts criss-crossed on what would have been his waist. The next thing that got your attention was his tail. Purplish in hue, it darkened around the tips of his fins and reminded you of a thresher shark’s tail. It especially gave you that impression when compared to the first mer, Killer’s, mako-esk body. When he looked up in greeting, there was a small scar beneath his right socket.

He looked uncomfortable, sending subtle glances your way as he fidgeted with something in his hands. “Um, yeah...” There was an awkward silence until he coughed. “I uh… Dream sent me back with something light while he helps the others. They went topside closer to the reef.” He held out a small mesh bag with what looked to be two crabs moving about inside.

Nightmare sighed. “I see. Let us take it elsewhere then.”

You had to brace yourself when everything around you began to move. Bringing you near his chest, Nightmare slipped down from the ship towards the bottom of the rockface. Once there, he ever so gently extracted you from his palm and fingers to set you down amongst a soft pile of seaweed and sand. Backing away, you watched in awe as he maneuvered the bottom half of his body into the curved opening of a cave. Even though it wasn’t very deep, it was enough to get his tentacles snugly within. It allowed for a better position next to your resting place more at your level. While you watched, Cross hesitantly swam down to join you, staying closer to Nightmare’s elbows a safe distance away. He didn’t relax until the Guardian had settled.

Loose sand clouded the water where the leviathan lay. “There. Now, if you would Cross.”

The mer scrunched into his jacket, looking anywhere but at you. “Yes sir.” Ever so carefully, he swam close enough to hand you the bag. “It’s not much considering, but they still taste good.”

…

Yep. Live crabs. You now had a big bag of crabs, and it wasn’t even market day. You suppose you were going to have to put them in your mouth.

Heh… Focus.

You had never eaten a crab raw before and they were still moving. Would the meat come out the same if it wasn’t cooked? Were you still susceptible to seafood poisoning now that you weren’t technically human? You were starting to get nervous.

Just staring…

Cross didn’t know what to do with that, becoming visibly more distressed. “I mean, I could go get urchins or oysters or something?”

You felt just as awkward. “No, no. This is fine. I mean, the other two things sound wonderful too, but I can just… Uh… I’ve never eaten it raw before? And they are still alive so… Um…”

You were floundering.

Nightmare chuckled when understanding dawned on Cross’ face. “Oh. Yeah. I forget humans like to cook their food.” Your tentacles curled when he came forward again, this time getting close enough to reach inside the bag. “They should be fine to eat. None of us have any problems. Here.”

Taking one of the crabs, he turned it over before jabbing the underbelly down the center with a crack. With it now limp, he grabbed all the legs on one side, pulling the entire chunk away from its body to hand to you. You tried not to grimace.

You had seen the fisherman at the docks and market do something similar (although either with a sharp knife, pick, or bang) so you weren’t surprised. But it was still raw, and he made killing it with his fingers seem so easy.

Cross was watching with such hopeful attentiveness now though. Quietly thanking him, you gave him a gentle, yet uneasy, smile and did your best to separate meat from the base portion connecting the legs. Using your newfound sharpened nails, you were able to get some just fine, and the smell was actually quite nice.

You still hesitated.

“Go on, little fish. You need it. Others before you have questioned. They too found their way. You will find your taste in food has changed alongside you.”

You couldn’t really argue with that. He was an ancient being after all who had undoubtedly gone through this with countless others. You wondered if Cross was one of them.

Nodding, you took a breath and made the plunge. It was startling how different it tasted compared to when it was cooked. Or when you had been human? It was good! Better than plain, although, you wished you were able to dip it in butter. Your stomach was at least ready to accept more if nothing else. The single taste was not enough.

You were suddenly aware of just how empty your stomach was, quickly digging, mashing, and pulling more from your meal. Cross graciously passed over the other half during your ravenous display, taking the time to prepare the second crab for you as you ate. You were so focused on eating at the time, you almost didn’t catch the dopey grin spread across his face as he watched. Nightmare grinned down from the palm of his hand. Your mind was too overcome by the frenzy to care.

They were kind enough not to mention it.

By the time you had finished, your stomach thanked you. However, you were far from satiated and your body still ached.

You sighed.

Tidying up your mess for Cross, you quietly thanked him when he took it and swam off to dispose of it. Nightmare looked on, eyelight sharp and focused.

Feeling self-conscious and uncomfortable, you sank into yourself and took a tentacle in your hands. If you focused on it instead, perhaps you wouldn’t feel so much. There were a few things you were curious enough to ask about too…

“You are in pain.” One of Nightmare's bony fingers startled you as it brushed against your limbs. Unconsciously, you willed one of them to wrap around it for comfort.

You had to look away. Cross was in the distance heading upward and towards something.

“Y/N.”

Something in you shivered at your name, but you never got the chance to answer him. A shout along with other voices announced the return of the others, Killer making a particularly quick approach. Circling the patch of seaweed, he smirked at your flinch.

“Wooow. Movin pretty quick Boss. Only the first day and ya already got em—”

You didn’t know tentacles could move that fast. One moment Killer was circling above, the next he was wrapped up tight enough to clamp his jaw shut. Nightmare was no longer as relaxed, spilling out of the cave enough to effectively sit among his agitated limbs, a couple looping around your little area.

“That is enough teasing for the day. Behave yourself. I am hardly in the mood.”

Killer didn’t seem affected by his predicament in the slightest, nodding with a muffled reply. As soon as he was released, he let himself sink to the ground with a wink. Dream, Cross, along with two others soon joined him with their spoils.

You ignored the pain and the suspicious eye of Nightmare in favor of looking over your new companions. Everything was strange and new. Only time could tell what was ahead of you.

You only hoped you were worthy of it.

Grand Master Post Leviathan Au

[theheromira]

Nimona appreciation post (Part 3 of idk even know how many)

Hi guys, I'm back with Part 3. Sorry about the delay, I tend to procrastinate even if something has to do with my newest hyperfixation lol (Pic for attention, like always lol)

at the beginning he says to Amb that he's not brooding and now he tells Nimona that "Knights don't mope, they brood."

"Murder him, murdder her, murder everyone!" aaand there is Amb standing int the door and Bals pose XD

Amb lil smile when he sees Bal. He probably thought that he killed Bal and seems glas that he's not

Also him just looking at Bals arm

Nimonas lil "Gesundheit" is way better in the english version ngl

Nemesis 😈

"Oh, look! It's Gloreth!" and the knights behind them actually look in the direction she pointed at

Amb acting like he was about to draw his sword and looking like they just caught him doing something forbidden like I don't even know

Bals almost defeated face at the beginning of the closet scene

Nimona just casually ripping that pipe out of the wall

Bals hamster cheeks when she grabs his face

that die-in-the-closet-dialogue felt very strange to me but I still don't completely understand how people can hate people who have a different orientation than them (sexual or not, I don't know how to say that exactly but I hope you kinda understand me?). There shouldn't be a problem about dying in a closet in real life and I really understand why people are so close-minded and this is still happening, I guess. Why does this "kids movie" motivate me to think about this kind of issue so much? But I guess it's a good thing, I'm probably/definitely not the only one who watched Nimona and really started to think about this (and the other themes of this movie)

also Nimona literally coming out of the closet (as a shape-shifter) is like really nice, I love little things like that in movies that you maybe not even register at first

I like to think that the axe opening the door is a little "Shining" reference

Nimona casually catching the arrow before her face

Bal being the competent idiot that he is grabbing the first thing his hand finds to use as a weapon without even looking

"Even if you see the horn?"

"I will not freak… Uhhh" with that face XD

I just looove her line "This is the part where you run.", how she looks at the knights and how they start to panic

Bals face while getting out of the closet is like: What the everloving hell did just happen/is just happening?

"Yeah" "Oh no! Stay away! Get back! No! This is not happening!" XD

Amb just being bamboozled and proving that he's at least a bit of a Nerd (who other then a Nerd or a Zoologist would call a Rhino by it's full name)

"Leave that guy alone!" "Take that" bonks him away with her horn lol, they are such a good duo

Stairs are either your best friend (Nimona seemingly) or your worst enemy (Kungfu Panda)

Bal just being completely like a fish out of water by what is happening during that chase is also kinda hilarious

Also him still having the brain to tell her she needs to go right in all of this mayhem is very competent of him, I stan him just a bit ngl

the whale

hey def needed a meeting table that round, they are a kingdom of knights

loving that Todd gets the tiny d*** joke, one of the best jokes in the movie and this movie has a lot of good ones

THE MUSIC <3

Now he wants the staircase, Bal really should make up his mind XD

I'm a bit sad that the original BlueSky-Scene where she changes into a dragon didn't make it in there but this is also fine, I guess

How did Bal survive that fall?

also loving how he just slides the last few metres face down lol

Nimona looking at Bal before she says her "Something, something, something, we win." was kinda cute

Explosions! "Metal" Also: stuff like this reminds me of a kind of old scetch from a comedian (I know the guy from some youtube vids of different poetry slams but he is a comedian now) I like pertaining bear catapults (I def will get myself some tickets if he ever does a show near me, the guy is hilarious)

Bal looking kinda chill (he prob has a concussion and isn't quite there, I guess) at the different things that fly towards them and then focusing on that little bit of debris that knocks him out (and the sound he makes when he gets hit) lol

Sooo, that was it for part 3. Short I know, but I think I will try to get these posts out and ngl my attention span is a bit short at the moment… with this kind of post thats more on the short site I believe I can stay on the topic and not procrastinate that much. Maybe there will also be some longer ones inbetween, we will see. Have a good one guys ^^

[enigmaticexplorer]

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter II

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 4.7K

17 Telona

Kazi was a creature of routine.

She preferred tidiness and organization, as demonstrated by her clean house and minimalistic interior design. Everything had its place. And clutter was quickly alleviated. If it wasn’t useful, then it was donated.

After her father’s death, she became hyper-focused on intensive scheduling. The galaxy was chaotic and unpredictable. Routine guaranteed a sense of security and allowed her to feel in control. 

Early morning—the gray of nautical twilight just giving way to the pinks of sunrise—was her time. 

She preferred the quiet, the solitude. 

A swim in the lake down the hill, her strokes repetitive.

A brisk walk back to the house, the dewy climate of Eluca’s jungles and the chilled scent of an earthy breeze relaxing.

A quick shower to cleanse herself. 

A bowl of porridge decorated with chunks of lumina berries and a drizzle of honey. 

Breakfast completed, her solitude lasted an hour, soon interrupted by a sleepy Neyti and a busy Daria. The morning routine took a turn as Kazi focused on Neyti. Breakfast eaten, teeth brushed, school uniform donned. A short drive to the school and then onto work in Eluca’s capital city, Canopis. 

Daria, sometimes with the aid of Healer Natasha, retrieved Neyti from school in the afternoon. Kazi returned to the house in the late evening, ate dinner, and then started her analytical work for the rebel network, spending time with Neyti as the youngling completed her schoolwork or watched a film. Her day didn’t allow for unscheduled interruptions. 

So it had gone since their arrival on Eluca.

Hair still wet from her shower, Kazi stood at the kitchen counter slicing strips of a lumina berry. The berries—ovular shaped and larger than her hand—were a random buy at the marketplace, but when she realized Neyti enjoyed them, they became a staple in the household.

The dark purple fuzz of the shell tickled her palm. She placed the tip of her knife at the center of the berry, sliding it around until it fell into a nearly imperceptible crack. With a smug smile, she slid the knife down and—

The bookcase in the entryway swung open.

Kazi startled, her hand twitching and the knife jerking. It sliced open her palm. 

“Fuck,” she hissed. Setting aside both fruit and knife in favor of running her hand under the sink’s spout, she assessed the cut. 

Luckily, it was small and shallow, and it wouldn’t require stitches. And even if it did, Kazi knew herself well enough to admit she would ignore the problem indefinitely. She would have to be forced and drugged to get stitches. She shivered at the thought. 

It was her involuntary reaction that reminded her of the moving bookcase. Shoulders stiffening and stomach clenching, Kazi turned off the sink, pressed a cloth to her still-bleeding palm, and lifted her head. 

One of the clones, the one with the cybernetic eye—Commander Wolffe—stood on the opposite side of the bar. He was dressed in simple clothes: a white work shirt, brown trousers, and a dark belt. His hair—faded on the sides and longer on top—was slicked back with water. He must have taken a shower. At least the amenities in the basement still worked.

The commander scanned his surroundings, his eyes lingering on the dragon figurine on the bookcase. 

Scales polished a lightless black, as impenetrable as a black hole, the dragon was as long as Kazi’s hand. It was poised in the midst of flight, mirroring the flight pattern of the female dragon from her favorite constellation and legend: the Dancing Dragons. 

The sole difference between her carving and the female dragon was the color. Black versus silver-blue. Kazi’s dragon had been carved from a burnt tree in Ceaia’s most sacred land, the resting place of the last dragon. 

The figurine used to stand on her nightstand. Gifted by her father when she was five years old, per Traditionalist custom, the dragon was her guardian. Her protector. It was one of the few pieces of her old life she still kept. Symbolic of the little girl she used to be. The little girl she couldn’t entirely cut out. 

Kazi shook away the memory and refocused on the clone.

Silence expanded between them, tense and heavy. Tightly wrung with mutual observation and calculation both she and Commander Wolffe were partaking in as they eyed one another. 

In the spirit of cohabitation—forced cohabitation—Kazi cleared her throat. The man across the counter stilled. Except she didn’t have anything to say to him. Maybe a morning greeting would suffice.

But she didn’t think she owed him that. He was in her house interrupting her morning routine, after all. 

“My sister and Neyti will be down sometime soon to eat breakfast,” Kazi informed him. Setting aside the now bloodied rag, she returned to the lumina berry. The shell split open with ease. “Neyti and I leave at 07:30. Daria typically spends the day in town, so you’ll have the house to yourselves until 16:45, or 17:00.” And because her nerves were still rattled by his presence, and because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Be sure to tidy up after yourselves up here. We prefer cleanliness.”

With that, she walked around the bar, keeping close to the cool metal to avoid nearing the commander, and approached the couch and the flatscreen. A flip of a switch and the flatscreen displayed the local news channel. 

“The problem of terrorists attacking our workplaces, our places of trade, our homes cannot be taken lightly,” a female voice relayed from the screen. Kazi pursed her lips as she returned to the kitchen. “I am dedicated to protecting the people in Veridian Sector, and by extension, the people of our Empire.”

The voice belonged to Moff Harpy of Veridian Sector. A kindly appearance hid the woman’s vindictive nature. Supporting Imperial nationalization of local businesses, Moff Harpy earned herself a negative reputation among Eluca’s locals. She was greedy and willing to funnel money from obsolete planets, like Eluca, into the industrial, money-making planets of Veridian Sector. 

Since the end of the war, Veridian Sector had grown into an important military stronghold. Its location along a prominent hyperspace route and its general submission to Imperial whims made it ideal for Imperial military and security operations. And, as such, most of its planets hosted new military bases. To aid the Empire in its conquest of the ‘uncivilized and rebellious’ Outer Rim.

“Has terrorism been a problem here?”

The question caught her off guard and Kazi looked up from the porridge she was heating on the stove. The commander sat in a stool at the bar. He was reading through a file on his datapad and when he noticed her attention, he shut it off. 

“I wouldn’t call it terrorism,” she said, meeting his gaze. His expression was unreadable, hard and seemingly apathetic. Bored, yet hinting intrigue.

The expressionless mask shifted as he rolled his eyes. “Unlawful use of violence against civilians is terrorism.”

“That may be so”—she stirred her porridge—“but what about the unlawful use of violence by the government against civilians. Is that considered terrorism as well?” Her question was rhetorical so she pressed on. “There have been small pockets of rebellion in this sector, just as there have been in most Outer Rim sectors ever since the Empire arrived.”

They lapsed into silence. 

Kazi listened to the updates from the HoloNet, occasionally glancing over her shoulder to watch the screen whenever the news was appallingly glamoured in propaganda. The reporters shifted their attention back to the question of “terrorism” and the recent imprisonment of terrorists on the planet Geonosis.  

“These rebels”—Commander Wolffe said the word as if it offended him—“are idiots if they think they can take on the Empire.”

Kazi frowned at the condescension in his tone. She may have held similar cynical beliefs—rebellion against the omnipotent Empire was inevitably futile and would likely lead to mass deaths across the galaxy—but she didn’t care for the former commander’s ridicule. 

There were good people out there. People like Lore and Sparks, and even Fehr, who were dedicated to helping others: food relief, chain code provisions, displaced persons’ relocation. Kazi may have lacked the optimism in hoping for the Empire’s end. But she did believe in helping others.

“They’re people who believe in something bigger and better.” She noted the barely masked scorn in the commander’s gaze while he listened to her. “I don’t see why their personal decisions matter so much to you.”

“They don’t.” He tapped two fingers against the bar. 

Even sitting his stature and size were imposing. Intimidating. He could easily overpower her if he wanted, and that thought unnerved her. 

“They have to realize fighting against the Empire is a waste of resources,” Commander Wolffe interrupted the silence once more. Kazi gripped her spoon harder. “And for what? To restore the Republic? It’s an unattainable goal.”

“Maybe to you.”

“Don’t tell me you believe their agenda.” 

Her hesitation to answer earned her a smug look from the commander. It put her on the defensive.

“What about you?” she demanded. “You’re trying to rescue current soldiers of the Empire. That’s an incredibly futile mission.” The commander stiffened and she silently congratulated herself for hitting a nerve. “The rebels may be optimistic, but they’re actually doing something instead of hiding.”

“The rebels’ actions aren’t doing anything helpful. You can argue their actions are working to the contrary. Blowing up government buildings with innocent civilians in them will anger the Empire. It’ll react harsher. And crueler.”

“Those were guerrillas. The rebel network isn’t—”

“What has your network done? Anything of value?”

“The Empire has been in control for little more than a year.” Defensiveness coiled in her muscles and it took effort to keep her tone composed. “Rebellion takes time. Time to plan. To organize. To strategize. The network is gathering resources and intel in order to prepare for well-timed targets. I would expect a commander to know that.”

“Not everyone has time.” Commander Wolffe leaned forward. “My brothers and I are doing something. We’re rescuing soldiers. Getting them out and somewhere safe. Right now. The rebel groups—network, Partisan Front, whatever you want to call them—haven’t done anything beneficial.”

“I find it hypocritical that you’re scorning the rebels while working with them.”

He scoffed. “We’re not working together.”

Kazi frowned. It was her understanding that the three commanders were working with the network. Now that she thought about it, though, Fehr never mentioned a network-clone collaboration. The older woman merely stated she knew the men through a mutual contact. 

Suspicion spiked in her chest, like a blowfish the moment it sensed danger. Kazi knew nothing about these clones—their mission could be a lie, a façade for something else.  

“We have a similar dislike of the Empire,” Commander Wolffe said, his eyes narrowing at her blatant stare. “That’s it. I won’t waste my time on unrealistic ideologies and impractical strategies that will fail.”

“The rebels’ ideology may be flawed, but it’s hope that dictates their actions. Hope that the galaxy can be better.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “People need that hope—they need something to believe in—because without it, they won’t be invested in the movement.”

He cocked his head to the side, mistrust palpable in his quick assessment of her body. “What are you doing for the movement?” 

“I collect data and analyze it.”

“What type of data?”

“Data concerning Veridian Sector.”

Commander Wolffe sat back in his seat, a satisfied expression on his face. “Your data isn’t significant.”

Kazi gritted her teeth. The data she stole from her government job was minimal, and it wasn’t significant to the galaxy at large. However, it kept the network informed of Imperial movements within the Sector, as well as the occasional intelligence that helped precarious situations elsewhere. 

Her intel analyses served one purpose: to warn the network of alarming Imperial decisions. 

Kazi didn’t appreciate the smug look on the commander’s face, and she didn’t appreciate his blatant dismissal of the rebel network’s work—dismissal of her work—even if she agreed with him.

“It’s better to analyze insignificant data than to abet the Empire. Remind me, you were a soldier, right?” She smiled at the clench in his jaw. “We have people like you to thank for standing by and allowing the Empire to overthrow the Republic.”

The commander straightened in his seat, lips pressing in a firm line. Kazi maintained eye contact. But she could feel the tension emanating from him. Tension and rage. 

The silence lasted a full minute before Commander Wolffe tapped his fingers against the bar, rolling his shoulders back. 

“ ‘Course a natborn would assume I supported the rise of the Empire.” His voice carried an overtone of indifference. It was belied by the rigidity of his posture. “Arrogant and judgmental, huh.”

“Is it really judgmental if it’s based on fact?”

“And what evidence do you have to support your statement?”

“Did you or did you not serve the Empire as it came to power?”

The commander crossed his arms over his chest. “You said you already knew.”

Kazi regarded him for a few seconds. He had a point—she had made her judgment and thought herself correct without the evidence to support or prove it. It irked her that he was technically right. The taunting quirk of his mouth irked her even further. 

“I may have judged you, but I am right.” Kazi turned off the stove and removed her porridge, allowing it to cool. “The clones turned against the Republic and now serve the Empire. You served the Empire, so your criticism of the rebellion is moot.”

Commander Wolffe scoffed. “I’m not allowed to criticize ineffective strategy because of my past?”

“You’re not criticizing ineffective strategy. You’re criticizing the rebellion’s existence.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” He fisted a hand atop the counter. “The rebellion is another form of authority. Similar to the Empire. It’s exerting what it believes is the ideal way of governance.”

It was her turn to scoff. “The rebellion is fighting to free people from oppressive authority. They’re not exerting their own beliefs on others.”

“What happens if the rebellion defeats the Empire? What’s stopping them from abusing their power?”

“The rebellion’s leaders won’t abuse their power—”

“You don’t know that.”

“In that case, you shouldn’t trust any form of authority or governance.” At Commander Wolffe’s casual shrug, Kazi rolled her eyes. “Your cynicism is unreasonable—”

“I have every reason to not trust any form of governance.”

“I never said you didn’t—”

“You were saying my behavior was unreasonable.” 

Kazi straightened at the accusation in his tone. “You clearly have a problem with me—” 

“And you’ve been the picture of hospitality.”

“As I was saying”—her voice sharpened—“you have a problem with me, so tell me what it is.”

The commander lounged back in the stool. His features were tight with wariness, his gaze cold and harsh. “What does your network want from us?”

The question was so unexpected Kazi could only blink at him. 

“The network wants many things,” she said.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t know what the network wants from you, or if they even want something.” She held his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“Rescue-and-relocate.” The commander worked his jaw, his eyes never leaving hers. “Why was this house chosen?”

At his flippant tone, Kazi tensed. “Is it not up to your standards?”

“I’m trying to figure out why the network chose this location when you clearly don’t want us here.” He gave her a bored look. “Planning on turning us in to the Empire?”

“Why did you accept the location when you clearly don’t trust the network?” 

He refused to answer, his gaze unflinching. 

Deeming the conversation concluded, Kazi returned to her porridge. She spooned a lump but hesitated, sneaking a sidelong glance in the commander’s direction. Eating in front of a stranger—eating in front of people, in general—was something she avoided, so she turned her back to him. Her small bite was cold and bland. She forced herself to swallow. 

Uncertainty gnawed at her mind and apprehension knotted her muscles. The commander’s intrusion left her feeling off-kilter. Everything was outside her control.   

Her porridge was no longer warm. She lost precious minutes of solitude. Her palm ached from the coagulating blood. The floors were dirty.

Kazi bit her tongue. Crumbs dotted the hardwood and it was clear her sister hadn’t vacuumed, even though she said she would.

Gripping her spoon harder, she tried to steady her breathing. She would vacuum when she returned to the house tonight. It wasn’t a big deal.

But her sister’s lack of responsibility vexed her, and her environment was unclean, and now three more people would be using the kitchen. Excluding however many soldiers the clone commanders brought here. 

The reality of the situation struck her. Soldiers would be living here. Soldiers she didn’t know. Male soldiers who could be a danger to Neyti or Daria. 

Heart beating too fast, Kazi forced herself to take another bite of porridge. It was too cold. She struggled to swallow it. 

Panic mounted inside of her. She set aside the bowl and moved on to preparing Neyti’s lunch. 

Minutes later, with a well-balanced meal paired with a tasty slice of pie she baked earlier in the week, Kazi stacked the food containers into a portable lunch bag. Snagging a pen and flimsi pad from a drawer, she wrote a quick note. 

The moons will be full tonight. We can look at them.

The daily notes were simple. She didn’t know if Neyti read them, but she wanted the little girl to know she wasn’t alone. Even if she was distant and they didn’t talk—

A sharp intake of breath drew her attention and Kazi looked up. 

In hindsight, she reacted too slowly. 

The situation was unusual—players on a gameboard interacting in a dimension they weren’t supposed to—and so her reaction was delayed, allowing the situation to devolve. 

A sleepy Neyti stood at the bottom of the stairs, adorably rumpled in overlarge pajamas and bunny-shaped slippers. Black hair knotted, her mouth hung open. 

Kazi’s first thought concerned a morning greeting. She never knew how to interact with Neyti, and she always overthought what to say. 

Good morning felt too formal and insincere. 

How did you sleep? would go unanswered since Neyti refused to speak.

Today, the greeting debate didn’t matter. 

Neyti stared at Commander Wolffe with wide eyes, and the commander stared back, perturbed. 

The small child gulped. She mouthed a word, something that looked like “No.”

Confused, Kazi watched Neyti launch herself at the now-standing commander. Tiny fists pummeled the commander’s thighs and stomach, and it was so odd that Kazi still hesitated.

An annoyed grunt from the commander snapped her into action and Kazi lurched around the bar, yanking Neyti into her body. The little girl strained against her arms, gasping. 

“Neyti,” Kazi scolded gently, turning the girl around. “Stop—stop.”

Neyti was shaking, large gray eyes welling with tears, nose sniffling. She seemed to be fighting the tears—her tawny skin growing blotchy and shoulders curving inwards. Pitiful hiccups emanated from her chest and she kept gulping, as if she could swallow back the emotions.

The sight of the small child trying to control her emotions made Kazi tense. 

It was like looking through a window into her childhood. Witnessing the moments she hid in her room, breathing erratic and body shuddering as she dug her fingernails into her thighs and ordered herself not to cry. Pinching herself to feel real pain rather than the uncontrollable feelings pounding in her chest like fists trying to claw their way free.

“Neyti,” Kazi whispered hoarsely. 

Neyti burst into a stifled sob and pressed her hands to her face, trying to hide the tears wetting her cheeks. Small, muffled cries shook her shoulders. 

From the corner of Kazi’s eye, Commander Wolffe rubbed the back of his neck, his consternated gaze trained on the crying girl. He took a step forward, brows knitted together. 

Deciding it best to create space, Kazi scooped Neyti into her arms and moved upstairs to the safe confines of the little girl’s room. Once the door was closed, she set Neyti on the edge of the bed. 

The bed’s quilt was a mosaic depiction of blue and white waves. She thought it would be a pleasant reminder of Ceaia; a reminder of home for the child who lost everything. Small stuffed animals—a spotted jaguar, a blue bird of prey, and a pink dolphin (all natives to Eluca)—perched across Neyti’s stacked pillows. 

Sitting cross-legged, Neyti hid her face in her hands. Her sobs had quieted into wet hiccups; she still trembled. 

Kazi reached a hand forward—tentative, slow—but she hesitated. She worked hard to respect Neyti’s space, understanding how disorienting unwanted touch could be, and she didn’t want to force it. 

Instead, she grabbed the spotted jaguar and gently placed it in Neyti’s lap. A hope the stuffed animal could provide a comfort she couldn’t. Neyti hugged the animal to her chest.

Uncertain what to do now, Kazi scanned the girl’s bedroom.

A brown, wooden desk leaned against the left wall. Laid across its chair was Neyti’s school uniform, creaseless and clean.

Four of the desk’s six shelves were barren. One shelf carried extra school supplies and the second shelf housed a small succulent Daria gifted Neyti a few weeks ago. Bulbous, white dots splattered the red flower, like sheep grazing in a field of blood. Vibrant green oddly shaped leaves sloped the perimeter of the pot. The dirt looked freshly watered.

A quiet cough drew her attention. Wide eyes blinked at her. Abashed, Neyti ducked her chin to her chest, hastily wiping at her cheeks.

Kazi bit the inside of her cheek, hating herself for Neyti’s clear embarrassment. She needed to do better—be better—for the youngling. Shoving aside her self-deprecating thoughts, she grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on the nightstand and offered one to Neyti. The girl accepted it and rubbed away her tears. 

“Did the man downstairs scare you?” Kazi asked gently.

Neyti froze, her shoulders curving inwards.

“It’s okay if you were scared,” she said. Neyti’s lower lip trembled and Kazi mentally berated herself. Berated herself for putting Neyti in such an awful situation. “It’s scary to see people you don’t know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him.” She paused. “Did he remind you of what happened to your mom?” 

The little girl sniffled and looked down at the bed. Her fingers played with the tissue, folding it into crisp lines.

Kazi massaged her temple. She should have known Neyti would react this way. She should have been prepared. She should have told Commander Wolffe to leave so that she could speak with Neyti.

It was her fault Neyti was scared and crying. She had failed. Failed spectacularly.

Defeat wrapped an unfriendly arm around her; she gritted her teeth.

“That man downstairs isn’t going to hurt you, okay?” She searched Neyti’s frowning face. “He’s a…good guy. And he and a few others like him are going to live with us for a while. Okay?”

Neyti tilted her head to the side, curiosity awakened.

Kazi nudged a bunny slipper with her foot. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me and Daria. Okay?”

Still fiddling with the tissue, Neyti considered her. For a six-year-old, she practiced a shrewdness most adults lacked, her expression thoughtful, perceptive eyes wandering from the door to her face. Kazi kept her features open and kind, hoping Neyti could see the truth in her gaze. The promise. Finally, Neyti nodded. 

Loosing a quiet breath of relief, Kazi straightened. She hesitated for a moment and then extended her hand. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

Neyti appraised her hand. After a few seconds, she patted it.  

Slightly bemused, Kazi decided it was progress and made her way to the door. 

Correcting one of the lopsided ears on her bunny slipper so that both were proportionally angled, Neyti stumbled from her bed, tossed away her tissue, and followed Kazi back downstairs. 

Her hope to ease Neyti into a cohabitated space with the clones—starting small with just Commander Wolffe—was ruined by the presence of the other two clones. 

The three clones stood close together, countenances serious and voices low in discussion. 

Muscles stiffened along her back and Kazi pursed her lips. So much for an easy introduction.

Lifting her chin, she strode into the kitchen. The clones’ conversation faltered. Three sets of eyes assessed her and then lowered to Neyti who stood on the final step of the staircase, one hand curled around the banister while her gaze bounced from one clone to the next. Her cheeks started to darken; her mouth pressed into a thin line. 

Kazi cleared her throat—an attempt to distract the clones from Neyti—and grabbed her bloodied rag, stuffing it in her back pocket to hide it from Neyti.

“I want to apologize for what happened,” she said, meeting Commander Wolffe’s gaze. “I hadn’t told her about your arrival and you…” Scared her.

A muscle flexed in his jaw. 

“…startled her,” she finished.

Soft footsteps padded to the corner of the bar. Kazi gave Neyti an encouraging nod. Bunny ears bobbing, Neyti stepped close to her side, her eyes darting from Kazi to the clones. A vacillated movement waiting for someone to act.

Commander Cody moved first, patting one of the bar’s stools. A small smile lifted his lips, and in a kindly voice he asked, “Do you want to sit here?”

An adorable glare darkened Neyti’s features. With a suspicious glower aimed at the commander, she wandered farther into the kitchen, deliberately ignoring the three males. 

The clones shared dubious looks. 

While Neyti grabbed a fork from a squeaking drawer, Kazi opened a lopsided cabinet to retrieve a plate, wincing at the cabinet’s poor appearance. The house boasted a multitude of loose or broken oddities. She wanted to hire someone to fix the basic issues but she kept putting it off. 

Still glowering, Neyti edged around the bar, keeping ample distance between her and the males, and took a seat at the kitchen table. Scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and berry slices filled her plate. She took slow bites as she eyed the clones.  

Expecting more interrogation from the now-gathered commanders, Kazi faced them. Commander Wolffe was staring at her, arms folded across his chest. 

“You have a kid.”

“Yes.” She studied him, trying to decipher his inscrutable expression. It was futile. When the three clones didn’t question her further on Neyti’s existence, she changed topics. “I registered a flight plan for you. Your ship is now a food-export carrier.”

Registering the flight plan under her name left her annoyed and unsettled. But Fehr requested it, and she couldn’t refuse. She only hoped nothing would come of it. 

Commander Fox leaned against the bar. “Fehr mentioned you’re an analyst.”

It wasn’t a question so Kazi didn’t bother confirming. Instead, she observed the severe glare Commander Wolffe threw Commander Fox. A glare full of warning.

Either ignorant of Commander Wolffe’s baleful stare or electing to ignore him, Commander Fox continued. “We have intel that needs to be analyzed—”

“No.” The word was low and controlled, and though Commander Wolffe appeared apathetic, the rigid lines in his shoulders and jaw spoke otherwise.

The two commanders stared one another down. Their postures were stiff and eyes narrowed as they engaged in a silent argument Kazi couldn’t parse. Commander Cody looked between them. He released an aggrieved sigh, shaking his head. 

Deciding she had no interest in whatever the clones wanted, Kazi joined Neyti at the table. 

While Neyti finished her breakfast, Kazi considered her tasks for the day, making a mental note to pick up more lumina berries from the Marketplace. Her thoughts were jittery, though, and her attention returned to analyzing Commander Wolffe. He hadn’t moved, his stance defensive, face guarded.

Except, this time, his expression wasn’t so unreadable. 

He was scrutinizing her. Studying her in a way that made the hairs on the back of her neck curl. 

There was something in his gaze that left her discomfited. Like she was a ball of yarn, knotted and entangled, yet he was assured in his abilities to pick her apart. To untangle her and peer inside at all she kept carefully locked away and hidden. 

But she knew herself, and she knew he would never succeed. 

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | A Muse

A/N: I love the reluctant father trope. It's one of my favorites. But I’ve also come to the unremarkable realization that readers readily forgive male characters for their parenting mistakes, but when it comes to a woman, she’s expected to be a good parent. She’s expected to have a motherly “instinct”, and readers, and society in general, aren’t forgiving of these female characters when they mess up.

This is my take on the reluctant father trope. Kazi will make mistakes when it comes to Neyti’s care. She will majorly fuck up. She is human, she is not infallible, and she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Parenting is a learning experience, regardless of gender. Her struggles are a main part of this story. 

[sifu-kisu]

Secret Book: Tai Chi Ball Dragon Walk Thirteen Styles

The 13 dragon-shaped Tai Chi ball movements were introduced by Wudang Taoist priests, and are a combination of the essence of Tai Chi theory and basic stances. Tai Chi is a combination of the inner family's Hunyuan Qigong, with the movement of Qi as the inner five forms and the movement of form as the outer five forms, forming the opening and closing of the Yin and Yang Qi. It is also a method of seeking tranquility in motion, and one must calm the mind and enter tranquility everywhere. Therefore, a round ball is used for rotation, and one must concentrate on the surface of the ball. When practicing Tai Chi ball, the mind follows the Qi, the Qi follows the strength, the essence follows the Qi, and the Qi follows the spirit. Then, dynamic Qi is sought from the stillness, achieving the combination of movement and stillness, the combination of Yin and Yang, the combination of water and fire, the effect of smoothing the Qi and strengthening the heart, relaxing the Qi and blood, and benefiting the kidneys and replenishing the blood. It is indeed a health care method for prolonging life.

Gradually experience it in practice. Holding the ball for exercise is like the ball attracting the body to the ball. There are sliding force, centrifugal force and other forces. The person moves with the ball, stretching and generous, often feeling refreshed, and having the beauty of sweating and moistening the body. The thirteen forms of Tai Chi ball dragon form are short and powerful, easy to learn and practice. Fast or slow, high or low, upper, middle or lower, all three are OK. Single form is the pile method, and continuous form is the walking method. Do not lose or top, do not reach or leave. It is derived from the twelve zodiac signs of animals in the distant past, and is applied to the seven meridians, eight channels, five elements, and four tips in the near future. It is not only the round movement of Tai Chi, but also has the eight methods of Baguazhang and the five forms of Xingyiquan.

The old, middle-aged, young, and infants can all exercise with Tai Chi balls. It can be adapted to the individual and the location, and can even be exercised on a round tabletop. When exercising, you can initially use a mud ball, a leather ball, a wooden ball, a hydrangea (pompom), or a basketball or a football. It is best to use a ball made of agarwood, because agarwood can draw qi into the Dantian. When people exercise, agarwood can enter the lungs through the nose, which is very beneficial. The size of the ball is best based on the width of the person's chest. The diameter of the ball is generally about 30 cm.

Practice

The first posture: holding the moon in your arms

This is the Wuji Yangxin Posture. The body squats down to the horse-grip posture, the ball rotates left and right in the arms a few times, and then walks (Figure 1-2).

Second Style: Push the Window to Look at the Moon

This is a method to strengthen the kidney and waist. Hold the ball with the right hand, and change to the left hand in the Chinese style. (Figure 3-5).

The third move: White Crane Spreads Wings

It is a method of relaxing muscles and replenishing qi. From the second posture, the left hand holds the ball, and the right hand holds the ball. The middle posture is the left hand holding the ball (Figure 6-9).

The fourth style: the moon is supported by all the stars

It is the method of the mutual generation of the five elements. The next three steps are as follows (Figures 10-13).

The fifth posture, Left and Right Offering Moon, is to control the waist and let the strength reach the spine. The following three postures of Offering Moon are followed (Figures 14-17).

The sixth posture, Sunrise Kuncang, is based on the twelve central nervous systems, followed by the three postures of lifting the ball (Figures 18-21).

The seventh style, the prodigal son kicking the ball, is mainly based on moving the hips, the toes and the heels. The following four kicking postures are connected (Figures 22-26).

The eighth posture, Reaching the Moon from the Bottom of the Sea (right), is mainly based on the strength of the shoulders, elbows, and wrists. After the middle posture, continue with the Reaching the Moon posture (left) (Figures 27-29).

The ninth posture, Two Dragons Playing with a Pearl, is mainly to train the head, hands, and feet. From the middle posture to the falling posture (Figures 30-32).

The tenth posture, Chasing the Monkey Upside Down, is mainly to promote diuresis in the small intestine. The first posture is the middle rotation posture, the second posture is the fall posture (Figures 33-35).

The eleventh posture, Five Dragons Twisting the Sea, is based on the dragon form, focusing on the unity of the five internal and external forms. The following four postures are followed (Figures 36-40).

The twelfth posture, the Deer-crouching Horse Stance, is mainly to mobilize the waist, legs and joints of the whole body. The following three postures are followed (Figures 41-44).

The thirteenth posture, Dead Tree Roots, focuses on moving the lower body and waist. It is similar to serpentine movement. The three postures of lower body connection (Figures 45-48).

If you restore the posture, you can return to hug the moon in your arms. You can also restore the posture freely.

Action march diagram

The first posture "Holding the Moon in the Arms" moves forward as a straight line. The second posture "Opening the Window to Look at the Moon" moves forward as a left-right dividing line.

The third move "White Crane Spreads Wings" also has left and right lines.

The fourth posture, "Stars Holding the Moon", is to turn from the four directions, and then from the cross holding the moon to the midpoint (see Figure ④).

The fifth style "Left and Right Offering the Moon" is divided into left and right lines.

The sixth form "Sunrise over Kunlun" is to lift the ball from the center to all directions, which is the center dividing line (see Figure ⑥).

The seventh form of "Prodigal Son Kick" consists of five postures in horizontal and vertical lines, and the ball is kicked in five directions.

The eighth style, “Fishing for the Moon in the Bottom of the Sea”, is a long horizontal line.

The ninth move, "Two Dragons Playing with a Pearl", involves sucking the ball from left and right to the center opposite side (see Figure 9).

The tenth move, “Chasing the Monkey Backwards”, involves turning from the back and moving horizontally in a long line.

The eleventh posture, “Five Dragons Twisting the Sea”, is to twist the sea using the Bagua rotation method from a circular circle (see Figure 1).

The twelfth posture of "Deer Crouching Horse Stance" is performed with the Seven Star Stance (see Figure 2).

The thirteenth move, “Dead Tree with Roots”, is performed in the shape of a dragon (actually a snake-walking move) (see Figure 13).

[sagesariadnd]

Revisiting Doric's Chase From a Dungeon Mastering Lens

So, we've established by now that Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves is a great movie. Fun, funny, heartfelt, everything genuinely feels like a D&D game from the goofy to the grand. But I wanna talk a little about my pick for the best scene in the movie: the wild shape chase.

A quick recap, if you haven't seen the movie or it's been a while; the party is trying to break into Castle Never in Neverwinter, to try to contact the party leader's daughter, who had been entrusted to the BBEG when he got arrested in a heist gone bad. The BBEG campaigned to become Lord Neverwinter when Lord Neverember mysteriously fell ill (gee, what a coincidence) and rules under the advisement of a bigger BBEG, Sofina, a Red Wizard of Thay. The party is using the goods stored in Castle Never's vault, where nobles from around Faerun are contributing wager money for the controversial High Sun Games, as the payment for helping in this endeavor, but they need to know how to get into the vault. So they hire the druid Doric to spy on them and gather intel on the vault. Sofina senses her presence, and the result is the chase we'll be talking about today.

Now, I could go on forever about how much I love this scene. The tension, the quick thinking of all her different forms, the hilarity of a whole platoon of guards desperately failing to dogpile on a single rat, the music that isn't on the soundtrack cd for some reason (I'm not bitter!), the 'one shot' cinematography, the payoff on Holga's running gag of suggesting she become a deer...but there is a non-wildshaped elephant in the room.

I don't particularly like rules-lawyering, especially for a movie. Especially considering how Doric was in hot water with D&D Nerds (tm) from the moment the trailer was released, because she was white (forgetting that tieflings, by the book, CAN in fact have normal human skin tones), and because she can wildshape into an owlbear, which is a monstrosity, not a beast. (Come on guys, let her have her fun, there's plenty of ways a DM can make that happen.)

But regardless, there is a continuity error, if not a game error. According to Doric's official stat sheet, she can only wild shape five times a day. She wild shapes seven times in this scene - fly, rat, rat again, hawk, cat, axe beak, deer. And that's assuming this was on a different day than their first meeting with Doric, when she had already shaped into a horse and the aforementioned owlbear.

But stow your blades, friends. This isn't a rant about how they got a rule wrong in the D&D movie. In fact, I offer a far more charitable take on this error, by offering a meta perspective. I posit that this error is the Hand of the DM.

It could be as simple as being in the moment. Think about your past battles and encounters in your games; how many times have you forgotten basic things under pressure? Don't lie. My DM and I have both gotten so caught up in a fight scene that we both forget that I already used my bonus action when I try to Flurry of Blows. Hell, I think all of us have been guilty of forgetting entire skills on our sheet that could have been useful at that exact moment. The chase is pretty intense, and I imagine playing it in an actual D&D game would be even moreso; you don't have the privilege of hindsight or time to think. You have to just GO, and it could be very easy to belief that Doric's player and the DM just completely lost track of the number of wild shapes she used. Probably didn't even think of it as they're both biting their nails to see if Doric makes it out. Just imagine the delight and release of tension at the table as Sofina is hot on Doric's heels and the player, in a moment of panic, blurts out "I turn into a deer!!!" Holga's player must have been losing her shit. Even if she wasn't already over budget, if I was the DM in that moment I'd let the extra wild shape slide JUST for that moment of bringing the running gag full circle.

And then, as I was watching the movie last night, an even deeper meta headcanon occurred to me.

I don't mean what I'm about to say as a putdown of Sophia Lillis; I think she did great and she definitely resonated with people as a favorite character in the movie. But Doric as a character is a little strange. She's a bit stiff and seems nervous, her lines have a slightly uncanny tinge, she generally seems kind of awkward...

Call me crazy, but doesn't that sound like a new D&D player to you?

I don't know if this was a deliberate choice on Lillis or the director's part, but Doric's awkwardness feels like a great representation of what it's like first getting into the hobby. Even if you've been interested in roleplaying before, it can feel weird when you first start out, getting used to talking out loud as your character, on top of the ongoing D&D struggles of getting to know your character as it is, and of course figuring out and memorizing all of your character's abilities. As a new player, I can imagine Doric's player latching onto "I can turn into animals" and considering that in every problem, because not only is it cool and useful, it's a simple concept to remember.

The spy mission was Doric's big moment. Her first non-combat scenario at the table. On top of that, it's a solo mission, and one that the entire plan relies on. This is Doric's player's time to really cut her teeth on D&D. Not only is the pressure on her to succeed, but the pressure is on the DM to give her a good experience to boost her confidence and have her wanting to keep playing.

So, the DM encourages her. He praises her quick thinking when she tries to sneak away in the armor, even when the guard passes his insight check. He reminds her as she's about to hit the ground that she can fly. He puts obstacles in her way as she flies off, watching her excitement and anxiety rise as every bow shot misses her. She gets tangled in the flag and could have tanked the fall damage because she'd just revert back to herself, but she wildshapes into a cat. She's getting into the groove!

And that leaves her spent on wild shape slots, slipping out the door thinking that if she stays hidden, she'll be safe to escape. But it's not over. She still needs to make it to the gate, and there's Sofina - she followed her out. Doric's player asks if there are animals around - the axe beak flock. The DM could have checked if she could still wild shape, but Doric's player is coming out of her shell. He could make her find another way out, but she's so deeply on a roll that stopping it now could not only get Doric killed, but possibly snuff out that light that's hit the player's eyes at every triumph. So, the DM calls for Rule of Cool - just one wave of the wild shape count, because hiding among the axe beaks is a cool idea, even if Sofina can ultimately see through it. The one axe beak lifts its head at exactly the wrong moment to take the hit meant for Doric - warning shot; the DM wouldn't just kill her like that. She just needs to book it to the gate - if she can make it that far, then the DM will call it a win.

And then there's the last wild shape - a deer. It would give her the speed she needs to outpace Sofina's horse. And Holga had clearly planted the idea in her head. It's too perfect to not use. And probably worth a point of inspiration, at that! The DM has to let it happen now. And besides, she's so close. A few more nail-biting rounds of chase, and Deer-ic power slides under the portcullis and gallops away. Cheering, screaming, claps on the shoulders. Doric's player collapses into her chair, a frazzled mess but the biggest smile on her face. She just had pure, concentrated D&D and now she's hooked. And after the game they can have a talk about how this was an exception for the sake of a good story and rewarding good roleplay.

Of course, nobody can know for sure how the game really happened, or how the writers imagined the D&D game to go. But Honor Among Thieves has such a special balance on the line of the in-universe story and the real world that I think it's good to look at these kinds of gaffs. No DM is perfect, no player is perfect, not everything goes according to plan or in perfect adherence to the rules. But I've said it before and I'll say it again; sometimes that just makes a better story. It's always important to be clear with your players that you won't always have kid gloves with them, but it's also important to make your players feel appreciated and rewarded for their choices, which is ESPECIALLY vital with new players. Their experience in moments like this could make or break the hobby for them; make the experience a good one.

[little-caeruleum-blog]

LMK || The Clay-Made Monkey

ATTENTION!!! THIS HAS SPOILER FOR SEASON FOR OF LMK, SPECIFICALLY THE IMAGES THAT ARE ADDED HERE!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

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* After many months, Sun Wukong finally found it. He had searched many times all around Flower Fruit Mountain, turning over every rock to find more rocks. Searched the caves hidden deep inside the mountain and the cold beaches that he refused to go near until now. He finally found it. The one.

The perfect rock.

The rock perfectly fit both hands, wrapping it around as a whole. He held it close to his chest and cuddled it, happy he had finally found it! This was it! This would be the one for him to use.

The perfect rock to make his son.

So many years, decades, centuries, of him being alone. He may have his small army of monkeys and a throne in the waterfall cave, but he was lonely. Lui Er would only visit so rarely as he traveled with the wind to find his music. Baijie, Tripitaka, Wujing, and Dragon Horse were long gone, passed away, and reincarnated into who knows when and where.

He needed someone to talk to. Someone that could hold a conversation. Someone to be able to take care of. Fill his lonely heart with love. Someone like a son.

Sun Wukong reached the top of Flower Fruit Mountain, the very same place where he was born out of stone that touched both earth and heaven, the south, east, west, and north corners pillars. Where he began his life but never reached death. 

On top of the mountain stood Nüwa. Nüwa was the mother goddess, crafting humanity out of nothing due to her own loneliness. She, too, understands Sun Wukong's own feelings about wanting a companion. She appeared in a bright yellow light to answer the old Monkey King's prayers as he begged for a life he can take care of. In her right hand, she held a bowl full of yellow clay, and in her left, tools to craft the clay. 

“I see you have brought the rock.” She spoke in a soft mystical voice. A smile formed on her lips as she glided herself towards the Monkey King. “It is a beauty. Tell me, why did you choose this one out of all the other ones?”

Wukong chose his words carefully. He knew whatever he answered would influence how Nuwe would craft his clay child.

“This rock,” Wukong spoke. “This rock in my hands fell on my lap one day when I was outside my cave. It was warm from the sun and covered in moss from when the water touched the earth. No wind could have pushed this or heaven would have destined this upon me. No other rock would have fallen down from where it had come from except for this. This is how I had come upon my child. This is who my child will be born from.”

Nüwa's silence was comforting as he held out the rock towards her. With his strength, he split the rock in half. Inside it was hollow, the perfect place to put his clay child. Sun Wukong placed the pieces on the mossy stone pillar where his stone once stood. There, he sat down on the floor and watched Nuwe perform her craftsmanship.

Nüwa started off by collecting the clay from the bowl into her hands. Her coarse hands moved with grace as she created life out of a lump of moist yellow clay. The figure took shape into a small monkey with lumpy spiky hair and a messy heart shape mark over its eyes and nose. And the little tale that kept sliding off of its bottom. But Wukong was patient, for once, as his tail eagerly wagged left to right watching. He knew what Nuwe was doing. Another test of his was to learn patience as her craft took time to get its shape perfectly. 

With a quick flip of her hand, a small fire erupted from a small crack in the ground. Its light was hot despite how small it was as the mother goddess placed the little clay body near it. She laid out her tools in front of her, her hands waving around before she picked up the smallest carving knife. She picked up a small knife and gently made her large adjustments on such a delicate-looking body. The eyes were wide, bright-eyed as it looked straight ahead at Nuwe. Its body was like a form between a human and a monkey with long human limbs but the fur of an animal all over the elbow, shoulders, thighs, and calves. Its messy heart took the form of a perfect little peach, just the same as Sun Wukong's birthmark. The crooked smile on the toddler's face made Nuwe laugh as she gently massaged its spiky hair, carefully wrapping it around a little hair tie to hold it in place

What seemed like hours turned out to be slow minutes as she held out the beautifully crafted ceramic piece in front of Sun Wukong. Wukong stared at it in awe, tears that would never fall mist his peachy eyes as the little figure was dropped in his hands. It was beautiful. This was going to be his little sun.

Wukong felt a small tug on his head and the slight pain of his hair being plucked out. He looked up and watched as Nuwe placed the orange hair in the small open hands of the clay figure.

“Sun Wukong. Your son is ready to be born from my hands but the mind of yours.” Nuwe declared. “May its life prosper in both heaven and earth as it becomes full of life!”

“Thank you… Goddess?” He said but as he looked up, all that was left was a fading bright light. She had disappeared, fulfilling her duty.

Sun Wukong shook his head as he smiled, a little chuckle leaving his lips. “Looks like it’s just you and me, bud.”

Sun Wukong placed the little clay figure inside one of the halves of the broken rock. He grabbed the other half and placed it over the other, covering up his little clay child before he used his strength to stick the halves together. Patting it down on the stone pillar, he took a few steps back. 

He sat down, legs crossed and his hands on each side, and he waited. He would wait for as long as he needed for his son to come out. With his eyes closed and a deep breath, he meditated. And with his heart full of glee, he stayed calm and waited. Wait… wait… and wait.