#fruit of the vine and work of human hands

[eimearkuopio]

Also if you want my brother back too, PLEASE STOP EATING HIM. Like, today. But I get the impression He's been here the whole time, thanks to everyone on the crew. Sorry I don't know everyone's names yet. We'll get there. I gave you all of mine except the one I'm still using. You can have that later. If you already know, shhhh. I'm only an Echo.

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Tarzan X Single Mother Reader

The storm was unexpected.

Waves slammed against the fractured hull of the ship as the night sky shattered with lightning. Your baby wailed against your chest, wrapped in whatever blankets you’d managed to grab before chaos took the crew.

The sound of splintering wood, screaming sailors, and crashing waves mixed into a cacophony of despair.

Then, a plunge into freezing black water.

You didn’t remember how you survived. Only the pull of maternal instinct, your baby's crying voice a lifeline in the storm.

You washed ashore on an unknown jungle coast, battered, trembling, and alone with your son.

Except... you weren't.

The baby cried, but it meant he was breathing.

That was all that mattered. You kissed their damp head and whispered promises you didn’t know how to keep.

"We will be okay. I will protect you."

You built a crude shelter from palm fronds and branches. Days blurred into one another searching for water, for food, trying to quiet your child's hunger. Your body ached. Your mind is tired.

But you weren't alone.

At first, you noticed footprints near your camp, large, bare, and human.

Then came the food which were fruits placed in careful piles, bowls carved from bark filled with clean water, and once, a rabbit skinned and cleaned.

Something or someone was watching you.

You tried to stay calm. Maybe it was a local. A tribal man? Or someone else who had survived like you?

But then you saw him.

He emerged from the trees; the stranger was tall, wild-haired, shirtless, his skin bronzed by the sun. Muscles tensed beneath every movement, but he crouched low, green eyes pointed at you with eerie stillness.

Then he vanished, back into the trees.

You told yourself it was a hallucination.

Until the next morning, when he stood just beyond your camp's edge, holding your baby.

Your heart stopped. You rushed forward. Yet you realised that the baby wasn't crying.

In fact, he cooed, nestled calmly in the handsome man's massive arms.

"Safe," the man said simply, his voice low, rough, like language was unfamiliar to him.

He stepped forward, carefully handing the child to you. "Safe with me."

You backed away, clutching your baby. "Who are you? What do you want?"

His head tilted. He looked confused.

"You. Mate"

The word landed like a stone in your gut. You stared at him, horrified.

"I don’t know you!"

He blinked.

"I know you. Long time. Since sea came. I watched. You… strong. Protect cub." His gaze softened slightly. "Good mate."

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your blood ran cold.

From that day forward, he never left.

He followed at a distance, silently watching. Every night, he lingered near your shelter, unseen but felt.

When you gathered water, he would appear from the trees, walking alongside you as if you belonged to him.

He would pick fruit and place it in your basket, like a lover trying to please you.

And your baby? Adored him. Laughed when he appeared. Reached out for him.

That's why you finally decided to give him a chance to learn about him.

And from the information you managed to collect with hardship due to his lack of vocabulary.

You found out about his name, age, and how he grew up with animals like gorillas.

He also told you about how an english woman called Jane taught him the vocabulary before she left to return back home.

That made you warm up to him.

You taught him words, through gestures, repetition, soft correction.

And he mimicked you like a devoted student, eager to understand.

Tarzan was intelligent in a raw, primal way, his voice gradually shaping your language like it was his birthright.

Tarzan had found the remains of a treehouse, half-rotten but salvageable.

It was his parents’ long abandoned home, tangled in vines and broken wood. and he began repairing it.

For you. And your son.

You watched him every day, his muscles rippling as he lifted beams like they weighed nothing, his hands bloodied from work, but never complaining.

He carved handrails so you wouldn’t fall. Laid moss and furs across the floor so your baby had somewhere soft to crawl.

"I fixed it for you, and our son" he said one day, gesturing proudly. "Our home."

You touched the wall. It smelled of cedar and sun, warm, clean, and strong.

Just like him.

And you began to fall for him.

Because out here, in the wild, he was everything for you, food, shelter, and safety.

When you cried, he held you, when your child was sick, he sat awake through the night, bathing them in cool river water and humming low, wordless lullabies.

He didn't ask to sleep beside you, but one night, when the wind howled and your baby curled up between you, you didn't send him away.

You almost forgot the life you had before. The pain. The betrayal.

Until he came back.

Your ex-husband.

It was early morning when you heard the shouts, male, unfamiliar, human. Tarzan stilled like a hunting cat.

His green eyes narrowed at the intruder.

You rushed down the ladder of the treehouse, heart pounding, baby strapped to your back. And there he was.

Soaked. Sunburned. Bruised, but unmistakably him.

"Y/N?" he gasped. "Is it really you?"

You froze as he ran toward you, grabbing your arms.

"God, I thought you were dead! I came back, hired a search crew. The boat is nearby, it’s not too far down the coast. We can leave! We can-"

"Stop," you whispered.

He blinked, confused. "What?"

And then Tarzan stepped out of the trees.

Your ex froze, taking in the Tarzan appearance with wild eyes and an unreadable expression.

"What in the world is this?"

Tarzan moved beside you, putting a hand over your shoulder in a protective manner.

You didn’t speak as your former glared.

"You living with this freak now? Did you lose your mind out here?! He is dangerous, he is a savage!"

You felt your baby stir at the rising voices. You rocked him gently, trying to stay calm.

Tarzan’s breathing had grown shallow. Slow. Eyes locked on the intruder like a predator sizing up prey.

"Go," Tarzan said, voice flat.

When you opened up to Tarzan about the abuse you endured and how you fled on that ship to escape your ex-husband, it broke his heart, and left no doubt in his mind who the real villain was.

Your ex turned, glaring at Tarzan.

"Excuse me?"

"Go back to the tree house and protect our son.”

"She is my wife. That is my son!”

Tarzan tilted his head slowly.

"No."

The man tries to walk past Tarzan to get to you, but he doesn't get the chance to do so as Tarzan stabs him in the chest with his spear, killing him instantly.

A silent gasp escapes your lips, as you hide your son's face in your embrace.

The way Tarzan turns around to face you with a small smile as if he hasn't committed a murder in front of you is shocking.

But his proposal was something else.

"Can I be your husband now?"

[neteyamssyulang]

☽ Forbidden Moonlight ☽

Adult lo’ak art belongs to cinetrix <3

☽ Pairing: T'ahtu (Male yautja) x Fem human reader x Adult Lo’ak ☽

☽ Instead of heading the warnings, you chose to go out anyway. Now you must pay the price ☽

☽ Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, Dark, Size difference, P in V, Dom T’ahtu, Sub reader, Dom Lo’ak, Belly buldge, Mentions of blood, Creampie, Implied somnophilia.

☽ Word count: 2,133 ☽

☽ Translation(s);

Na’vi: onvä'wll -> skunk palm, vrrtep -> demon, sevin -> pretty, tawtute -> human, syep'an -> lift vine.

Yautja: ooman -> human.

☽ A/N: Soo I’m still not sure about this but I wanted to post it anyway.

☽ Tagging: @ikeyniofthetayrangi @itchaboi-itchyboy @aria-tempest @anemonelovesfiction @loaksulluyswife @tallulah477 @shifting-questions @sinful-tawtute @bambithewriter

Tonight was the night, the annual blood moon and it would just so happen that this blood moon was special. Yes it brought out the na'vi's more feral side but this particular night another creature would make an appearance.

No one knows what it is, all they know is that it comes from a planet light years away and loves the thrill of the hunt. Every couple thousand years, the creature would travel to pandora in search of something worthy to take as a trophy.

This creature knows to respect the balance of eywas creations, which is why it only hunts and captures one prize.

Little did you know that prize would be you.

"Your not going, end of story" Norm spoke, crossing his arms. You had asked him if you could go on a walk just to collect some fruit you were craving. Eclipse hasn't even started yet so you would be fine, atleast you hope you would be.

Huffing you began to protest till Spider walked past, chuckling to himself after seeing Norm finally tell you no. Norm rolled his eyes knowing all too well what was going to happen,"Why does this make a wish Tarzan get to go out but I can't?!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Norm shook his head "He is more responsible and knows the forest y/n." Spider turned around putting on a fake pout "Aw, is the little girl mad because she's too fragile to go ou-" , "Spider do not finish that sentence!" Norm spoke firmly, trying to not make the matters worse.

"You know damn well when I do get the chance to go out I'm much more safer than him!" You shouted at Norm, it was true though. Your brother always found a way to get himself into danger whereas you were careful and made sure to avoid certain areas.

"Safer or just smelly to where everything and everyone avoids you like the plague? You wonder why your still single and yet you continue to rub that horrid stuff onto your skin when you go out" he mumbled, getting some yovo slices in a bowl then walked to his room closing the door.

Norm sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder "Please angel, tonight is not the night you wanna go out. Maybe tomorrow though" he gave a soft smile then returned back to his desk, finishing up some work that Grace had assigned to him.

Screw what they said, you could easily make it to the gathering spot and back before the blood moon started, right?..

Maybe also pick up some more onvä'wll since you were out.

You made your way quickly through the forest, towards where the gathering spot was. Upon arriving though you were greeted by the sweet yovu smell, and quickly got to work with picking atleast a few from the bush.

Once you had enough, you quickly started making your way back home. Sure you could try going further out for the onvä'wll but it was risky, if you had left sooner maybe you could've gotten them.

Eclipse had begun, with now the blood moon shining bright in the sky. Your senses were on high alert, knowing that if you made one wrong move you'd be dead.

The forest looked like something out of a horror movie, instead of the usual beautiful glow, everything was red. The only sounds you could hear were various clicking noises that sounded as if they were getting closer and closer each passing second.

Feeling as if you were being watched, you made a beeline for the outpost when something jumped down from the trees infront of you.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Lo'ak chuckled darkly, stepping closer. Instinctively you took a step back making him smirk "Aw, the little vrrtep thinks she can get away that easily."

The clicking noises were louder now, a branch snapping behind you had you turning around quickly, only to be met with a creature. This..this had to be the creature that you heard about..

It was tall, taller than the omaticaya boy making you reach only up to his stomach. Long locs fell past its shoulders and it's eyes glowed like amber. Lo'ak crept up behind you, coiling his tail around your waist as he glared at the creature.

The mysterious alien clicked its mandibles again, almost as if it was trying to communicate with you.

One part of you is aroused to be between two giant men, but the rational side reminds you that one only wants pleasure while the other wants a prize.

"Lo'ak please.. just let me go and I won't tell anyone I promise" you pleaded with him, Lo'ak only looked down at you raising a brow "Oh? you think you have a say in this little girl?"

"You are ours to claim, ours to ruin, it does not matter if you want it or not baby. You'll take everything we give you like a good slut."

His gaze moves back to the other creature, giving it a simple nod while holding you still. The predator looks down to his wrist, fiddling with something on it. The sound of a small hiss escapes the item and he pulls out a little metal disk, your brows furrow "Wh-what's that?"

Lo'ak's left hand went to grip onto your hip while his right moves up to your throat, forcing you to turn your head to the side. The predator steps closer, reaching his reptilian hand out and places the disk behind your ear.

A scream leaves your lips at the burning pain coursing through your skull, it felt as if you were being stabbed by a thousand hot needles.

Soon enough a deep voice fills your ear making you jump slightly "Good, the pretty ooman can understand me now."

Lo'ak releases his hold on you, shoving your body to the ground. Gulping, you back up in fear making both men amused. The omaticaya crouched down then moved closer, leaning in close to your ear whispering only one thing;

"Run”

Your lungs burned as you ran for what seemed like forever, they were playing with you, letting you think you could get away just so they could take that hope away from you.

Loud clicks and yips filled the night air, slowly getting closer and closer. In the distance you saw what looked to be like a cave and made your way towards it, hoping you could atleast be safe there.

The cave was eerie and smelled musty the further you went inside, turning a corner you saw a pink glow from what looked to be a rib plant. Unfortunately though you couldn't open it from this end as it was facing away, looking around more you finally mange to spot a syep'an.

Walking over you tugged on the syep'an, causing it to lift you up just as soon as you heard footsteps entering the cave. Quickly you ran and hid in a small space between two rocks, surely they couldn't get you here.

"Come out come out little one" T'auth taunted,"You can't hide from us baby, we will find you" Lo'ak chimed in, a dark chuckle leaving him as he and T'auth began looking for you.

You could hear their footsteps getting closer, the predators clicks sending shivers down your spine.

Suddenly everything went quiet, the footsteps were gone. Confused, you were about to move out of your hiding spot when a long scaly arm appeared, grabbing at you.

Screaming, you tried moving farther back but you couldn't. T'auth grabbed your leg, pulling you out from your spot "What a pretty little thing" he murmured, using one of his sharp claws to tear your clothes to shreds, leaving you completely exposed under his hungry gaze.

"I bet she tastes as good as she looks" Lo'ak purred from behind you, T'auth layed on his stomach draping your thighs on his huge shoulders "Only one way to find out" he smirked before diving in.

T'auth was ruthless, his long tongue licked from your entrance to your clit where he sucked on the small nub, sending shivers down your spine.

His mandibles gently scraped across the flesh of your thighs as he feasted on you. Your moans echoed throughout the cave, as much as you didn't want this there was nothing you could do except take it.

You were at the mercy of two huge aliens who could kill you at any given second, especially the one who's head was between your legs right now.

The predator reluctantly pulled away, only to let Lo'ak take his spot, but Lo'ak didn't want to waste anymore time. He was already dying to feel your pretty tawtute pussy wrapped around his cock, moving his tewng to the side he groaned as his cock slapped against his stomach. Beautiful patterns of tanhì scattered across his throbbing length.

Your eyes widened at the sheer size and girth of him, no..no that was never going to fit, it couldn't! You tried to scoot back but T'auth was right behind you, he held you against him while his massive arms hooked under your legs, keeping you spread for the other alien.

Grinning, Lo'ak crawled forward "What's wrong mamas? Afraid of a little alien cock?" He teased.

Before you could answer, Lo'ak had already notched his tip at your entrance, a small "Keep her still" left his lips as he thrusted his entire length inside you.

Lo'ak grunted, feeling your tight walls try to adjust around his cock. For him it felt so heavenly, his ears lay flat against his head while his eyes were squeezed shut.

For you though- it felt like you had just been impaled. The stretch to accommodate him hurt like a bitch to where tears were freely flowing down your face.

Did they care? Absolutely not.

Lo'ak rutted into you like his life depended on it, coaxing out noises not even you thought you could make. "Sh-shit mamas.. keep gripping me like that.." he moaned, sharp nails digging into your sides drawing blood.

You couldn't speak at all, all you could think about was how good he felt inside you. It felt wrong yes but felt oh so good too.

Meanwhile the one behind you licked a small stripe along the nape of your neck, a purr rumbling through his chest at the mewl you let out.

The na'vi's hand suddenly pressed down on your stomach, a moan like scream echoed through the cave as you came gushing around the thick cock inside you.

Lo'ak groans loudly at the feeling of your walls clenching tightly around him, the sensation pushing him over the edge and making him release inside you, so much so that it causes a small buldge to form in your tummy.

Slowly he stills his hips, still trying to catch his breath. "See? That wasn't so bad" he chuckled breathlessly, now pulling out.

You glared up at him, your breath coming out in short pants as the two men switched positions. Lo'ak was now behind you, his hands rubbing your sides, claws gently scraping your skin while T'auth made his way between your plush thighs.

His amber eyes locked onto your own as he shoved his cock inside your abused hole, Lo’aks cum acting as lube so T’auth can just slide inside perfectly.

You yelped tried to squirm but it was no use, Lo’ak had a firm grip on your sides while this other brute was nestled between your thighs.

With each thrust he delivered, punched out moans fell from your lips. Your head dipped back, resting against Lo’aks chest as you neared your second climax of the night.

T’auth didn’t talk much but gods was he vocal, he threw your legs over his shoulders while dipping his head back in pleaure. Grunts and moans filled the cave along with your mewls.

“Pleasepleaseplease..” you slurred, looking up at the alien through half lidded eyes. Lo’ak only scoffed, rolling his eyes “You beg for him but not me?”

You didn’t have the words to reply back, T’auth was hitting all the right spots inside you that Lo’ak couldn’t. Your mind felt like mush at that moment, not even registering Lo’aks words anymore.

T’auth couldn’t hold back any longer, his mandibles opened wide and a piercing screech left his throat as he buried himself to the hilt, shooting his seed deep inside your womb.

Lo’ak hissed from the loud screech, his ears slightly ringing. Your own body seized as your climax was triggered, the alien grunted feeling you tighten around him.

Just as your vision was going black, a voice whispered in your ear;

“Sleep if you want sevin tawtute, that won’t stop us from fucking your cute little body though”

[void-bitten-ghost]

Part 2 to this bloodstarved vamp Lucanis drabble (god I hope that link thing works, it's my first time using it) 18+ please and thank you, you've been warned. Gender neutral Rook

But yeah. Rook is still bleeding. He can smell it before anything else, the memory of it bright and incandescent on the back of his tongue blinding him for a moment. Hitting him in the chest like a hammer. He dare not turn around, Maker knows what he looks like right now, so he uses his sense of modesty, his human sense, and keeps facing his cot for the time being.

Rook is safe. He knows he can show his back to them and not get stabbed.

"Lucanis?"

He grits his teeth. It's such an unsure, broken question. He's never heard them sound so worried.

"Rook."

"Are you hurt?"

Not physically, he wants to say. Not in the way you're asking.

He's trembling, aching, could crumble at any moment, curling in on himself to keep his teeth away from them, from their wrist, their throat, thier thighs--

"No," he bites out. "No, I am-- I am not hurt."

And oh, the sigh of relief they give cuts deep. Like his ribs are clenching.

"Good," they breathe, coming closer. "You're--"

Then they pause. He can feel their eyes on him like a fucking caress and he wants-- meirda he wants--

"You're not alright though, are you?" They ask, thankfully staying put. "I told you to come to me if you're struggling."

Now they sound almost hurt.

"Forgive me, Rook. I--" his voice sounds foreign to his own ears. Quiet, and choked. He hears the shirt still in his hands tear a seam.

They take a step, and his entire body tenses. He needs them gone. Needs them to leave right this second now--

"Lucanis? I need to know what's wrong so I can fix it, and to do that I need you to please talk to me."

Mierda, the way they said 'please' breaks him inside. His eyes are burning, blurry at the edges.

Out of habit he takes a deep breath to steady himself. A mistake. They're all around him, inside of him, and so close he could-- he could just--

He turns, slowly, so, so slowly, and the way their face blows open with surprise tells him all he needs to know about how he looks right now. A beast. No better than the demon that tore that hole into their side. The one that they have hidden under several layers of gauze and a primly buttoned up shirt. His chest warms at the sight of them, still alive, still put together, still thinking of him even though he is this.

Their face softens, then. Arms up with open palms as if trying to calm a spooked animal as they, just as slowly, telegraphing their movements, approach him.

"Oh, Lucanis."

"Do not pity me, Rook."

"Don't be so pitiful, then," they cut back, a flare of anger quickly squashed. "Have you been eating at all?"

Their emphasis at the end makes him flinch, and thats all the information they need to know that, no, he hasn't.

"Why?"

He swallows, thick and loud. "I can handle it."

"Evidently," they say, flat and scathing. But then they're so close, he can feel the pulse under thier skin drum against his, building to something.

"Rook," he stutters out, clamping a hand over his opening mouth. His teeth itching, begging to be allowed, just once, to sink into them like a finely sharpened blade. Fuck, they'd give so easily, like the broken flesh of a fruit, sweet and warm and satisfying.

"Lucanis, your eyes are changing," they warn, but thier pulse stays in that steady rhythm. Slightly elevated, but there's no fear there. They trust him far too much.

Then Rook is gently releasing his hand from his face, taking the shirt from his other and dabbing at the dark liquid trailing down his chin and upper torso. He's so stunned at the tenderness that everything within him stops. The hunger, the breath, the only thing left in him being the warmth and wonder that they have planted there. A lattice-work of vines and buds writhing in his gut.

"You're a mess," they laugh, and he's so lost in the sound and the feel of thier hands on his jaw that he's forgotten how they got here.

"Sorry, but the shirt is probably a lost cause."

"Why are you sorry?" He's asking, distant and lighter than he's felt in forever. "I'm the one who got himself in this state."

He takes their hand and holds it against him, feeling their heat and listening to the swirling, rushing blood that keeps them alive, keeps them whole and here with him.

They drop the shirt, both hands now gently holding his face, just like he'd wished they would. One daring to slide into his hair, just at his nape, and he sighs, feeling his shoulders bow forward.

When did he close his eyes?

"I swear, the bottles were working," he tries, his body calmed enough now to articulate the problem. "They do a good job of keeping me stable."

"Well, that's good," they whisper. "I was worried they might be too 'old' to count as fresh blood."

"No," he reassures, his own hands coming up to hold them, fingers in their hair too, pulling them closer, pressing their foreheads together. "The magic works, if a little bitter."

That gets a scoffed laugh. "I thought you liked bitter?"

"I do," he admits. "But, meirda, Rook, do you know how you taste?"

That sharp inhale has him barreling forward, despite his better judgement. "Because I do, now. That creature, the one that hurt you, I had to-- but it had your blood on it, fresh and warm and I--"

"Breathe," they soothe, and he's so close to them now, their warmth soaking into him. He doesn't breathe. Can't afford to. The words take priority.

"You're... there is no way to describe it, Rook. I had to run. Had to create distance otherwise I would have lost it, lost everything."

"You think you would've killed me," they state, understanding dawning on them.

"Yes," he chokes out. "Or died trying."

"Well," they joke. "It's good to know you think I could take you even while bleeding out."

That shocks a laugh from him. "Emmrich was there, Rook."

Silence. The flush on their cheeks so very charming this close up.

"Oh yeah."

He shakes his head against theirs with a small smile.

"Hey, I could still take you," they say, nose bumping into his and he's-- they're--

"I'm sure you could," he says, and it's a different sort of darkness that takes his voice then. Something with a sweet, cloying heat. It takes him a moment to catch up with what he just said, eyes snapping open.

"I uh, I mean--"

He goes to step back, but Rook's hand in his hair tightens, stilling his movements with a quiet gasp.

"Rook, I--"

"Can I?" They ask instead, and he's nodding so fast they nearly collide. And then Rook is pushing him down to sit on his cot, quickly following suit to straddle him and he's not quite sure he's awake right now. This has to be a dream. A fever dream soon to devolve into the usual nightmare of sea and salt and blood magic.

But then they're looking down at him with eyes like fire, like they want him so much it hurts, and he's waiting. Waiting to see what they do with that want, hands fisted and shaking in the back of their shirt.

"Say you want me to kiss you," Rook breathes, all warm honey tongue, and Lucanis responds with nothing but a groan and a pull, but Rook holds fast, pressing against his chest with firebrand palms.

"I need to hear you say it," they practically beg, and if it's good enough for them then it's sure as fuck good enough for him, too.

"Please," is punched out of him, all breath and desperation. "Please--"

And then they're on him, lips crashing into him like a wave against the shore and he wants nothing more than to drown in them. Hands floundering, one grasping their nape, the other clutching at a thigh and yanking them forward, closer to him, he needs them flush, needs to feel their heart fluttering against him as he tastes them proper. Not second hand, no third party, just them whimpering into his mouth as he grinds their hips against him.

"Luca--" falls from thier lips as they push back, rolling into him and he groans, deep and guttural and on fucking fire.

"Rook," he answers, tracing thier outer thigh and squeezing. "Keep going."

His lips instinctively trail over their jaw, about to kiss their way down their neck when Rook grasps his face and brings them face to face.

They're a sight. Panting and gasping and looking at him like nothing else in the world matters.

"I want you," they say, and his hips buck up, both moaning in unison. "I care for you so much. So, so much it makes me so fucking stupid."

Then he gasps, stills. He smells it, sharp and white hot to his senses.

"You're still--"

He looks down and there, a fresh wave soaking through the gauze and shirt, a dark spot that makes him salivate.

"Please," they whine. "Please don't stop, I'm so close--"

And he must be stupid too, because he's twisting, laying them down on his cot and undoing their belt with quick, deft movements, finally palming them through their smalls and marvelling at how wet they are. All for him.

The gasp they let out has him claiming their mouth, again and again, as he strokes them to completion right there on his sheets. Their nails scoring down his back the most exquisite sting of pain and he can't-- he needs--

He's rutting against them like an animal, their scent thick and heady and driving him incoherent. It's only when it's too late that he realises their undoing their shirt, the top buttons slipping from their weak grasp.

Then they're sliding their fingers into his hair again and guiding him to their neck.

"Rook--" he gasps, giving a feeble attempt at trying to break free, but they hold fast. "I can't--"

"Please," they beg, and those eyes, soft and dazed, are his undoing. "For me?"

He can't deny them on the best of days. This is just cheating.

He swears, a long string of words in his mother tongue that have that flush in Rooks cheeks spreading even further, and then he kisses their throat, slow, exploring them, trying to find what makes them twitch and whimper with over sensitivity.

When his teeth finally sink in, it's like coming home. Every ounce of tension releasing, the tight coil in his gut snapping as he spills himself in his breeches with a wordless noise he's never heard himself make. The taste secondary to just how alive they make him feel, bright and desired and enough, always enough--

There's an insistent tapping on his shoulder, inconsequential on its own, but then the cotton in his ears clears just enough to hear what Rook's saying.

"--anis, don't make me have to ruin this by kicking you in the--"

His fangs pull back, a tiny, tentative laugh making its way from his chest as he licks the wound, reaching down for his shirt. He tears off a piece to help stem the flow, placing kiss after kiss along their neck to eventually reach their lips once more. Their nails scratch at a spot just under his jaw as he does, and he curls over them, careful to not press on their wound as he holds them to him.

"You can laugh all you want Dellamorte, but I would've done it if you didn't let go when I asked. Afterglow be damned."

And just like that he's chuckling all over again, pressing into their chest to hide his face, feeling the rumbles of their own answering mirth.

"Soooo," Rook starts after a bit. "Does this mean I'm getting more red meat for dinner? OW--"

Ohhh they're gonna regret falling asleep without getting clean first, but waking up tangled in eachother, well... that helps some

[jfs-worldbuilding-and-art]

Living and travelling in Aerrhea as a nomad Pt.1

Clothing and Common Travel Gear

There are many cultures in Aerrhea, some live high in the sky inside airships or balloons, others enjoy a life as animal herders, farmers or inside city-states, but the majority of people live as nomads. Travelling from island to island, gathering plants and fruits or following huge animal herds as they too travel from island to island, sometimes stripping them bare of plant life, only for it to grow again later on.

But travelling is not something as easy as one would imagine, principally without the help of advanced technology such as automobiles and other vehicles, for that some animals were domesticated to help navigate the myriad of floating islands present in Bifröst. But humanity always finds a way, or ways of circumventing the many challenges that show up in such an alien geography.

The first tool we will check today is the Island Anchor (1) and the Atlatl or Spear-thrower (2): The two tools go hand-in-hand as the latter is used to throw the former. Spear-throwers or Atlatls are tools used by humans to help propel and launch spears further than what is possible with bare hands (also noteworthy that a research shows that Atlatls work as equalizers between men and women when throwing spears). This device has been adapted for throwing Island Anchors by getting larger, allowing it to launch longer and heavier spears.

Which is basically what the Island Anchors are, long and heavy blunt spears that have the role of anchoring two islands and help people traverse them. The way they work is rather simple, much like a simplified (and oversized) grappling hook, the Anchor has a long and sturdy rope attached to its middle that is tied to a tree or something else, then with the aid of the Atlatl the Anchor gets thrown in between two trees of the aimed island.

After that the rope is pulled and due to it being attached in the middle of the spear, the spear gets stuck between the trees, allowing for cargo and people to cross from one island to the other or sometimes even pull the two islands together.

~~~

That is far from being the only way to move from one island to another though. A far more simple way to do that is simply wait, wait for two islands to get close enough to allow for a jump from one island to the other. That may also include climbing the island-side, which may contain fines, roots and trees, that is why Aerrhean Humans evolved their adaptations, discussed priory but which includes their long arms, prehensile toes and stronger musculature. Holding tightly to the vines and all, avoiding falling to their demise sometimes hundreds of meters above the sea level.

However, climbing islands has its own dangers, including not only venomous plants but also the many highly venomous and deadly snakes that hide among the vines and roots of island-side plants.

Due to this most cultures have developed protection for their most exposed parts when climbing: the limbs. As the primary contact between the islands and the people, they are more susceptible to being bitten. Due to this the cultures that travel from one island to another by climbing have developed Arm Protection (3) and Shin Guards (9). These come in many flavors, some are made of seeds (3), leather straps (9, left), proper Shin guards made of leather (9, right), or even wood and bamboo.

When you don't stay in the same place for long it is good to keep your belongings and other helpful things close to you. So that is why Backpacks (4), Fanny packs, purses (10), Hammocks (12) and even Canteens (5) and other storage items are so common among nomadic people. Burden animals have been domesticated and are often used, but for carrying less immediate usage objects and the heavier ones too. Keeping your personal belongings and such things at your easy reach is very important when travelling through islands.

Generally each storage item has its specific usage. Backpacks (4) often store clothes and similar things such as Hammocks, although those can be carried separately (12). Hammocks are the primary and often only sleeping aid among nomads, it is easily carried, not difficult to produce (in essence it is a net) and can be set easily too. Often having rope attachments that can be regulated for different circumstances, such as two trees far away or too close.

Purses and Fanny packs (10) store items that can be lost more easily or require specific storage such as personal belongings, trade coins, religious objects, musical instruments, etc. Bamboo canteens (5) are used mostly for carrying water, but can also store objects that need to be waterproofed, such as spices, other kinds of powders, fire starters, food, etc.

When it comes to clothing, there are many kinds and they are often relegated to specific cultures, groups or even families. These include Hip Capes (6) for covering the butt and legs, Capelets (7) for covering the shoulders and protecting them and the torso from sun and rain, but other clothes also include Loincloths, Skirts, Tunics, etc.

Finally, we have Ropes and Earrings. Ropes are more often simply tools for wrapping things as you expect from a rope, but they also can be worn as clothing or adornments, like necklaces, around the hip, across the torso, etc. The only object that is truly without purpose other than looking good are earrings, in this picture we have a woman wearing earrings made of shell, probably from some flying cephalopod, but earrings are as diverse as the cultures that make them, being made from all sorts of materials.

[corpsecomplex]

VARRON

If you're a newbie getting into Demonolatry, it may be tempting to work with more well-known spirits. However, many of the most famous demons got that way because they are extremely powerful, and would therefore be dangerous and unsuitable for a beginner to work with. So, for anyone who was considering working with Asmodeus, why not start out with one of his lesser-known consorts, Varron?

Basic Info:

Appearance: Varron appears most typically as a sphinx-like being with features like those of both a human and a leopard. He is most typically quadrupedal, with four paws and no hands, but can sometimes appear upright, in which case he will be about 8 feet tall and have humanoid hands. He most typically appears with long hair, yellow eyes, and tan skin.

Personality: Depending on one's relationship with Varron, he will behave differently. He will likely seem withdrawn and quiet at first, but is very curious and can easily be won over. He is known to be a playful and even mischievous spirit who greatly enjoys the company of his devotees. He can, however, be a bit demanding and difficult to placate with regards to offerings.

Origin: Presumably Babylonian

Symbols:

Crystals: black obsidian, black onyx, bloodstone, pyrite, red jasper, garnet, labradorite, opal or opalite, smoky quartz

Animals: Leopards or panthers

Plants: Palms, monstera, pomegranate trees, grape vines, tiger lilies, orchids, dead-nettle

Associated Colors: Black, gold, red, violet

Number: 16

Zodiac: Taurus

Tarot: Six of Cups, The Lovers

Suggested Offerings: Crystals, cinnamon, cardamon, clove, incense (especially sweet scents), bones, animal pelts, leopard print items, palm leaves, barley, honey, fruit (especially grapes, apples, or pomegranates), sweet liquors, smoke or cigarettes, jewelry, blood (only to be given once a strong relationship is formed!)

Domains:

Literature

Medicine

The element of Earth

Sexuality

Performing and Visual Arts

Signs Varron is Calling To You

Repeated dreams or visions involving his symbols, especially leopards

Sweet smells

Unexplained or otherworldly sounds, such as whispering or purring

A sudden pull towards him or his domains

Hope this could be of help! Safe and successful summonings to you all <3

[nereidprinc3ss]

sam what's your favourite quote you've ever written whether for Spencer works or anything else

Hi anon I have not been feeling too good about my writing recently so this was actually quite a nice ask to receive at this time as it forced me to go looking through my writing for the good stuff!! I honestly have a few…. and they are long because I am a D1 yapper💖 these are only from my Spencer fics tho I do have other creative writing works that I’m proud of it, but I get paranoid about sharing them. Maybe one day!!

In the Pietá, Jesus lounges dead on his mother’s lap, his cheek pressed to her arm like either of them have warm flesh, and her skirts drape from her knees and fall to the ground in delicate folds just like Spencer’s jacket and looking at pictures of it you swear you could find comfort there too—but if you wanted to make space for yourself next to Jesus you’d have to do it with a chisel and mallet. You’re starting to think that’s what it’s going to take with Spencer, as well. 

-trolley problem

Ummm this was just kind of a banger. Like original sin and being good is impossible and softness feels so much like brute force and violence for some people. And something abouttt only feeling worthy if you’re completely self-sacrificing and uncomfortable. Only feeling vindicated in asking for love and nurturing (Jesus on his mother’s lap… but too dead for it to be comforting….) if you’ve suffered enough and are literally on the brink of death. Or something idk I just work here …

Outside, the black spine of distant mountains rolls on forever and stays impossibly far away. He peers out into the nothing, past what the moonlight can illuminate—and now, he doesn’t have to wonder. He knows how it feels. Imagines another little boy made of shadows, as far away from the road as he’d been, and feels sick from all that fruit juice. He won’t ask his dad to pull over—all he wants is to get rid of that feeling on the back of his neck, like he’s dissolving into space. Like he’s the only thing for miles and miles. 

-Mojave ghost

Honestly could have picked many a quote from Mojave ghost I just realllyyy really love that fic so much it might be the one I am most proud of specifically the desert parts. Looking back there are 100% changes I’d make and things I’d edit but I think there is some rlly good descriptive and evocative material in there!!! The whole thing is basically a creative writing exercise

“True. There are also infinite realities where I find you and I fall in love with you.” Spencer reaches over again, taking your hand and settling them, joined, in your lap. “For each trillionth of a billionth of a second of the life I’ve lived thus far, there are infinite universes which exist solely so I can fall in love with you in a new way. Over and over again. There’s not a choice I could make in any timeline, or in any universe, that doesn’t lead an infinite number of me’s to an infinite number of you’s.”

-in infinite universes

I fear this is just the pinnacle of romance like I genuinely don’t think I could ever write anything more romantic than this truly. Cause what do you MEANNN SPENCER WHAT DO YOU MEANN!!!😭😭😭SOENCERRR

It is a deep, distinctly human grief. The ineffable kind where something is almost too beautiful; so perfect it offends the mortal senses because it should be permanent, but nothing is, and the clash of divine beauty with unstoppable time which oxidizes copper and covers marble with vine is almost as grotesque as metal rending delicate flesh. It is the grief that drove the first poet to write and the first parents to press their baby’s painted hands to the walls of a cave. It is the desire to do the impossible—to capture ephemeral perfection and make it eternal, and the knowledge that it is hopeless. You recognize it because you’ve felt it for him.

-hourglass

I think I personally was maybe perhaps doing too much here eeee but I was feeling extremely desperate to prove myself as a writer to some imagined Gordon Ramsey of creative writing who didn’t exist and wasn’t reading my fics SO there’s a lot packed in here and its not the most authentic to my authorial voice BUT. I will always love this passage because I poured so much into it and I was sooo soo proud of it and I am very proud of the girl who wrote it. I just remember locking in so hard and I was just SO proud of it and Yeah I just love writing so much and I think that is very clear here which makes me love it forever!!

There are also other snippets here and there I honestly have sooo many fics I couldn’t read them all to remember all my favorite quotes but they are sprinkled and interspersed!! I’m sure dybmn has some good ones and a bunch of my other one shots but these were the ones that came to mind!!

Thank u for the fun question anon ily Im giving u a kiss Im gonna mail it to you MWAH 💋!!!

[taunted-h0use]

✨Midnight Snack🌃

A silly, very fluffy, very self indulgent HDG concept with stand-in OC's that may become a full fic, who knows

This is kink content, pls do not reblog to non kink blogs, and as always, 18+

CW: universe typical D/s, intox, hypno

The florete stretched lazily as she wandered into the dark kitchen. A drowsy glance into the bedroom confirmed her Affini was still asleep, vines shifting to indicate steady, sleeping breaths. Great. Slowly, The next challenge to her plan floated into her mind

She couldn't, for the life of her, remember which cabinet had the snacks. For a moment she could only stand, slightly slack-jawed, staring up at the wall of Affini-sized storage containers. Her mind was far too addled with Class-E's to decide on an answer, the little pet simply decided to try until she found what she was looking for.

With a determination rare for this particular florete, Seven located the stool in a nearby cupboard, and used it to climb onto the counter. From there she could reach the cabinets, which she opened and began searching.

Ananassa was drawn out of sleep by a strange rustling coming from the kitchen area of the hab. Filling her floral lungs with air, she rose and quietly entered the kitchen.

By this point, Seven had sat on the counter, back to the bedroom, and was happily chewing on her plunder.

A gentle humming voice suddenly filled her ears

"Now darling, what are we doing out of bed at this hour?"

The florete turned bright red as she spun to face her mistress looming over her.

"Nuffinm!" the words were muffled by a mouth full of crumbs.

A smirk crossed the Affini's lips.

"And would 'nuffinm' Happen to include a sneaky little midnight snack?"

There was a pause, as Seven gulped down the mouthful of food

"Well, I woke up....and I was hungry, and you always tell me that good pets listen to their bodies signals...and that my Class-G's only work if I'm well fed....so I got myself a Liiiitle snack"

"I seee, little one," Ananassa said softly, as she pulled the pet up into her arms,

"And so your snack of choice to tide you over to breakfast was..." a tendril gently removed the food from Seven's grip

"A box of Nilla wafers and Sonic the Hedgehog branded fruit snacks?"

Seven buried her blushing face into the Affini's vine-woven side

"I'm sorry...I have such a sweet tooootttthhhh" the final word slurred together as yet another vine caressed her cheek, sending soft green and pink lightning through her brain.

"And it seems, silly girl, that the plot continues to thicken" Ananassa cooed as she withdrew a shiny metal inhaler from the pocket of the fuzzy robe that encased her pet.

"Oh you poor thing, this is your extra Class-E inhaler, I thought I put this away. It does explain a few thighs though. This formulation always did give you...what was that human word you said, 'the munchies'?"

The dazed florete in Ananassa's arms giggled at the sound of such a human phrase coming out of her leafy lips. The sound melted Ana to her core, and she pressed a kiss to her pet's forehead.

"Now sweetheart, I have a deal for you," she continued in a soft tone as she returned the dosing pile of limbs to their bed.

"I'm gonna tuck you in here for just a moment, while I go make us some lovely tea and find you a more suitable snack, okay love?"

Seven sighed contentedly in the affirmative as vines wrapped a cozy blanket around her.

A few moments later, the quiet shuffling returned and a smell of warm cinnamon drifted into Seven's awareness. Her eyes drifted open slowly to see Ana holding a tray with a steaming teacup and a shiny red apple.

The pet rose, took the teacup with both hands, and clambered into her mistress's waiting lap.

"You know I'm not mad at you, pet, but would you like to tell me why you were even up at this hour? Did you really wake up like you said, or did you stay up watching tablet videos and taking hits from this?" Ana slowly swung the silvery inhaler in front of the dumb sleepy face of her darling. Almost instinctively, she reached out, grasping for the tool.

"Ah ah ah, I think you've had quite enough of this for tonight, silly girl,"

Seven sighed and slumped back into her mistress's embrace.

"I'm sorry, I know I wasn't supposed to stay up, but you were so tired when you got home from work, and, and... I didn't wanna bother you, so I just stayed in my room and watched tablet videos, but I got a little carried away...so...so..." the pet's voice trailed off into oblivion.

"Oh you poor thing, you know your presence could never bother me! Even when I'm tired. In fact it's quite the opposite, getting to pamper you at the end of a long day is my favorite way to relax. I'm so sorry if I've ever made you feel otherwise," she punctuated the sentence with a series of kisses to the top of her florete's head.

"Noooo, is not you mistresss, just my silly brain sometimessss"

"Well then, it's a good thing I'm here to take that silly thing away from you, isn't it?" The question elicited a series of warm giggles that bubbled up from the pet in her lap.

"Yes mistress, of course"

Ana's hand found their way to seven's head, running her fingers through the soft hair and scratching gently at her scalp. Seven continued to sip her tea.

"So, what kind of videos were you watching, darling?"

"Mmm, mostly just botany videos"

"Ohh, dirty girl" Ana chided in a mocking tone

"Noooo, no, not like thaaaat, is just interesting!"

A gentle chuckle resonated from the Affini's chest.

"I know hun, I'm only teasing,"

Leaning over slightly, Seven set the now empty teacup on the nightstand, and retrieved the apple.

"That's a good girl, eat up! Sweet little treat for you before you drift off, Isn't that right, My Snow-Drop"

The spark of a half formed thought bounced around in seven's foggy mind

Her mistress called her silly names all the time, and it probably meant nothing, but something made her feel like that particular title should mean something to her...

By the time all that had processed in her brain, she realized she was several bites in to the apple already.

It was incredible. The skin was a deep red, hiding stark white flesh lined with oozing purple veins. The fruit was crisp in her mouth, sending a shimmer across her tongue that seeped back into her brain. Ananassa's voice floated back into her consciousness.

"So, sweet thing, in any of your little videos, did you learn anything about how grafting onto Affini works?"

Seven could hardly keep track of words long enough to piece together what her mistress meant, but she managed to shrug hazily and take another bite of the fruit.

"Well it's quite interesting actually," the lilting voice continued, "It's a painless process where we provide nutrients to a piece of a donor plant that has some desirable trait and incorporate it into our physiology"

The florete in her lap was swaying slightly, and Ana raised her arm gently to flourish a new bit of growth amongst her vines.

Through the haze, seven could just slightly see her mistress swaying a bit of her arm in her gaze. Her eyes lost focus, and just before her lids slid shut, She saw a small, deep red fruit bloom from the wrist in front of her. The exact kind of apple she had just finished eating.

Now the only thing that remained for Seven were her owner's words.

"It's especially interesting to note, that some grafted species, especially fruits, are very effective hosts for incredibly potent Class-Z's"

The pet squirmed weakly. Her thoughts were distant now, only barely hanging on to consciousness.

"Night, Night, Snow-Drop"

[fridgemissionmaster]

Luke+Reader: March Prompt/Day 27 Nature Walk

Prompt list/available prompt requests here, making a fic everyday of march

“What about that one?”

Luke crouched down to get a better look at the little sign before the plant you pointed to. “Hmm, no. This one blooms in winter.”

Slowly you strolled along, Luke going and inspecting all the little signs near-by. When there were none he’d stay beside you point out s tree or some flowers that looked interesting.

This was your first time actually exploring a botanical garden in the Devildom, although it felt as if you had before, given how often you’d get to stroll through the castle gardens.

“Wanna take a break? It’s going to take a bit to get to the desert plants.” The boy simply gave you a nod before making his way for the nearest bench.

As he went searching through his bag you couldn’t help looking through your own. Unfortunately you hadn’t been able to find much for your project, you just hoped Asmodeus and Leviathan were having better luck at the other side of the gardens. “Maybe we should have taken Barbatos up on is offer.”

“Wah- NO! That’s cheating!”

“If it was I don’t think he’d have offered.”

“Well…”

A tired chuckle tumbled out of you as you ruffled the kid’s hair. “Don’t worry I wasn’t ACTUALLY considering it.” Because Mephistopheles was already going there to study and he’d rant the whole time and you would get overwhelmed by all the information let alone not having any time to actually work. Although… with him and Lucifer being in the same group it would have been funny to see their bickering.

“Hey!” Immediately you retracted your hand, but it was cute seeing Luke trying to quickly tidy his hair.

Legs straight, hands clasped up and behind you, you stretched, beginning to feel a slight aching in your feet. Someone had better find something soon… Your gaze drifted up to the stars above. It was a treat to explore places you normally could only in the day in the human world, there was something… giddy about the night, like you were some rebellious teen knowingly breaking the rules for the fun of it. Like of all places you chose to break into a botanical garden.

Your daydreaming got cut off as something was gently placed in your lap. “Thank you Luke.”

“You’re welcome.” The boy’s smile was beaming.

A sandwich, cut-up fruit, some cookies, and some home-made crackers. You really couldn’t think Luke enough for packing you and the brothers last minuet lunches after Beel accidentally ate them.

“Delicious!” The crackers beautifully golden-brown, crisp, and flaky. The fruit was certainly fresh, the Hell Grapes practically popping in your mouth. And that sandwich, just something about those textures despite the jam’s taste being off from the ones back home.

Luke simply hummed merrily to himself, lightly kicking his feet for the joy of the praise.

“How do you think Asmo and Levi are doing?”

You slowly chewed on your last bite of fruit thinking about it. Considering it was those two specifically not well no matter the situation you placed them in, polar opposite and not even in the way where it could complement each other.

“Well…” How to word this so you wouldn’t crush the kid’s hopes of getting a good grade on this. “If they found something I’m sure they would have texted us by now.”

“You’re right.” They better have actually been searching or else you would have a fair few words for them after this.

A pair of very familiar screams pierced through the air.

“Luke!” In a flash the boy had stuffed everything into his bag leaving you to chase after him.

The closer it got the clearer it became, those two ARGUEING instead of trying to get out of whatever situation they were in.

Turns out said situation was a giant Venus flytrap like plant with tendril-like vines holding them suspended in the air. “Luke, stay back. I’ll fix this.”

It took a bit what with trying to not damage the thing and get in trouble but eventually with some magic, luck, and a lot of chanting ‘pleas let this work, please let this work, please let this work’ the pair were eventually dropped to the ground with harsh thuds.

And even before you could Luke was already by their side, on one hand clearly upset they clearly went past the signs saying to not cross the lines on the ground, but also looking them over to make sure they weren’t hurt.

“You’re a good kid Luke.”

“H-Hey!” He lightly blushed as you pat his head. “I’m older than you!”

“I know.”

[peggy-sue-reads-a-book]

The Garden of Innocence | Dionysus x Ariadne | 18+

Chapter 6

It would be creepy, he decided, to follow her further. Zeus behavior, really. She had a water source. She’d mapped out trails to get around. She’s be fine.

Only, she wouldn’t because Apollo had said she wouldn’t live long. It crossed his mind that his brother was only fucking with him, a theory he quickly dismissed. It wasn’t that gods couldn’t lie — Hermes did every day— but for Apollo it was out of character.

Dionysus didn’t ordinarily feel sorry for humans. There were too many and so few lived long enough to learn their names. But this one he’d stopped and paid attention to and now that he had, well …

At night, he found himself staring at the stars. Scrutinizing them for any information. He didn’t know how to read them. Not really. He had named the island in his days there: Naxos. It flourished. The branches were thick with fruit and the wind through the trees was as heavy and fragrant as temple incense. It knew he was there, responded to him.

And he was having fun with it. Somewhere on the island was the Minoan girl, abandoned and fated to die soon. But at least not of hunger or thirst. He’d made sure of that: every fruit she could want- figs, pomegranates, apples of every color practically dripped from the forest and none of it toxic to humans.

As for the river gods, he threatened to evaporate them if they so much as looked at her too long.

Admittedly, he was getting preoccupied with the challenge of keeping her alive. If, for no other reason, than to thumb his nose at Apollo.

The truth was, Dionysus was stuck. He could go wherever he liked, but the slightest distraction jerked him right back to Naxos.

He hadn’t actually seen Ariadne for awhile now. He didn’t want to. She was too interesting. And too pretty. The thing to do was fuck her. Get it out of his system.

It’s not that he’d never taken a mortal lover before — he had— but only for a night or so. The truth about sex with humans was it gave him a feeling he couldn’t quite name. It was in the big warm arms of a soldier, the Ephesian whore who had kissed his forehead and called him a pretty baby.

She had not been a gorgeous woman. She was heavy, her nipples pointed down and her eyebrows grew too close together. She worked for his own temple. He did not tell her this when they made love. It felt too good. The concern humans took for each other. Some of the time.

A river god never asked if it felt alright.

What would Ariadne be like? It was easy to imagine her sleek waist between his hands, her breasts firm and brown and warm as figs in the sun. Would her curls still smell of palace perfumes or only of the sea air?

He was thinking of this and more, thrusting furiously into his hand, angry at this island and its hold over him. With each thrust, the ground was firmer under his feet, the sea birds louder. It was a hot evening, as if the ocean were evaporating and trapped by the forest like a pot nearly boiling over.

And something stank. Like. Like rotten fruit. That’s when he saw the grapes. He had been lounging under an oak tree, wanking off with the fury of all Sparta. Only, the tree was nearly choked with vines. As he looked up, the sour juice dripped onto his face. As many bunches of grapes were putrid as it were ripe. The earth was littered with grapes. Some of the brown and squashy. Others molded over.

He wondered for a moment why they hadn’t simply been eaten by animals. Ants crawled over the ground and gnats hovered in the air but they wouldn’t touch the grapes. He looked around, this time really looking, as if he hadn’t idled the past week away on Naxos. It wasn’t just the grapes. Nearby, a pomegranate seemed to have swollen and burst.

Of course, he thought. The animals won’t touch it because it’s all for her. Dionysus climaxed, an underwhelming and distracted event. He wiped his hands hastily and took off. It was a pleasure to run, his godly ankles never twisting, nor his breath running out. His hair streamed in the wind, the envy of any maiden. And for the moment, he did not really care.

Without exactly planning it, he found himself at the fig tree where he had first seen her with Theseus. What he saw would ordinarily have been beautiful. The tree had nearly doubled in size, yet the branches drooped, so heavily were they loaded with figs.

And surrounding the dripping figs were more butterflies than he’d seen in one place in hundreds of years, each one vivid, peacock blue. He could feel their frustration.

“It’s alright,” he said numbly. He could almost hear them shifting around the tree, stepping their impossibly small feet. “I said it’s fine. You can eat them. No one else is.”

It was getting cooler. The awful humidity was turning clammy. He decided to falling water, find the biggest stream and let it take him uphill. He wished that he could sweat and cut his feet and be miserable running. He deserved it. Laying around pleasing himself over the mere thought of a girl who was probably dead now. By nightfall, he was feeling pretty rotten.

He’d gotten cocky. Told the animals and the leering spirits to fuck off and assuming she’d be find if only he showered her with fruit and magical fountains. He felt silly now. He hadn’t even considered exposure. Or any number of accidents. She could have drowned and oh gods, there were always those high crags.

He felt sick as he ran. He still never tripped but rather than dart around them as a fish through water, he broke branches and even shattered the small boulder he stubbed his toe on. It was his first time ever stubbing his toe.

When he reached the high crags, he scanned the beach below for a sight of her, the blue flutter of her dress, anything. The beach was empty besides a dead seal and the carrion birds surrounding it. For all the island teamed with life, there was just as much rot.

He searched carefully among the rocks. As if a whole girl could be as easy to miss as a rabbit. Should could be hurt — what if she’d struck her head? Maybe it wasn’t too late. It was dark of course. Past midnight with no moon. Not that it mattered to him. All he found were a couple of snakes, who took immediate interest in him and followed in his search.

He almost called her name. He realized he had not spoke it aloud before.

“Ariadne,” he whispered, before he could stop himself. It rustled through the tree tops, cooling the night beautifully.

Hooves clicked behind him. A stag had woken up and was following. Along with the snakes, along with the butterflies.

***

He found her, at last, huddled under a jutting outcropping of rock. It was closer to the sea cliffs than he might have liked, but slanted such that there was no way for her to roll off in her sleep.

She was sleeping. Bunched in her arms were remains of Theseus’s cloak. She looked like a baby with a blanket and for a moment he felt embarrassed, intrusive even, and then angry. He turned over the possibility of tracking Theseus down and plaguing his dreams with visions of her huddled on that cliff with that pathetic cloak. He was the god of madness after all. Dionysus could make the idiot boy suffer.

But that would mean leaving her. He bit his lip and crept forward. Dionysus wore little save for the fawn skin covering him waist down and a cloak of richest crimson. Mortals had to spill each other’s blood just to see its equal. The soft wool was combed spidery fine, blended equally with linen and silk. He didn’t know any of this, or course. These were things you paid nymphs to take think of for you.

It was a treasure. This much he might have known, but did not consider as he unpinned it at the shoulder. Her face looked small and cold. Curls had sprung loose from her practical braid.

Dionysus knelt cautiously. He tucked the red cloak around her without a sound, covering her feet, drawing it around her shoulders. Beneath her was merely the bare rock. Stupid girl. Cuddling the last scraps of Theseus when she might have used it for warmth. Dionysus sighed and frowned, too frustrated even to enjoy the night wind on his bare chest.

As he backed away, his eyes were met by luminous yellow ones. A lion padded onto the ledge directly above her. It could not see her, of course, but no doubt it was attracted by her scent. Dionysus could have shouted with annoyance. He’d fared better looking after himself as a mere toddler. Was there no end to the tedium of keeping one human being alive?

The lion was female, and by the looks of it old and underweight. It dared snarl at him.

“Oh, fuck off,” he said to the lion.

Its teeth glinted despite the almost total darkness.

“I mean it,” he hissed, trying not to wake her, “get out of here. Shoo, kitty. Beat it.”

The creature could not refuse a god. It yowled bitterly before it bolted. The sound startled the sleeping girl.

“Oh!” She jumped back against the rocky wall, terrified, immediately clapping a hand over her mouth. Her chest heaved but she had the sense to stay silent.

Minutes passed. Ten. Then thirty. Ariadne’s eyes showed dark and wide. He wondered absurdly why she did not move before it occurred to him that of course, she couldn’t see to navigate the ledges. He wondered if this was how humans filled up their time, how it seemed to they they had any life at all. The way fear could draw out mere flickers of existence. It was awful to watch.

Forty minutes. He felt wrong staring at her but certainly wasn’t going back down the mountain. The lion had been a bit cheeky for his taste. He watched the forest dutifully. Feeling smug at he prospect of his brother being wrong. She hadn’t drowned and she hadn’t frozen to death and now he could say she hadn’t even been eaten by a lion.

He’d wait till morning, if for no other reason than the satisfaction of another sunrise on this girl’s short little life.

@margaretkart @hycinthrt @kebriones @i-rove-rock-n-roll @sir-lancelot-du-lac @dionysian-daydream @hades-bat

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

(some implied MCD for Roach is in this. Just skip the paragraph that begins with his name if you like to avoid that! or interpret it in a different way that should work too)

Maybe the purpose of poison ivy is to keep things beautiful.

People underestimate their effect.

Whether it’s the mark of a hot mug on a wooden table or the crumbling ruins of Pompeii, worn away by thousands of well-meaning yet selfish tourists, humans don’t see the damage they contribute until the marks are so deep that a once beautiful thing is permanently changed. 

That is what happened to people in the military too, Price mused. Their governments take and take. They take the pretty things gifted to them, and then they girdle each man, before watching the vibrance of each soldier fade and flutter to the ground.

It stands to reason that the prettiest things are those which people cannot touch. The prettiest things are those which are carefully protected so that human hands cannot interfere. 

The prettiest things are those which we shy away from. 

A stinging caterpillar perched on a leaf, the flickering of flame, a snake curled in the warm sun. These were the pretty things that stayed pretty. 

Price worried about his soldiers, each one had so much to give. And somewhere down the line, he’d started seeing them in the delicate things he’d watched fade away. 

Farah was that mangled dog. The beast that must’ve been beautiful once, before human hands tore that away. Price wasn’t the one to put her in the ring, but his kind, humans, certainly had. 

In the same vein, Alex was like that dog’s teeth. Her weapon, once glittery and clean, now cracked, yellowed, and stained with blood. Humans saw that pretty thing as nothing but a tool, and they pitted one jaw against another until the alabaster beauty was lost. And the human’s ideas became right, and the pretty thing was nothing but a tool. Price hoped the dog could be saved from the fighting, that she and her cracking teeth could be saved from the inevitable damage. Price knew humanity too well to believe in that hope. 

Roach was that dandelion, fresh and round with potential. Price has been the one to pluck it out of his yard, his blunt hands tearing it from where it bloomed so pretty, just ruin it - to use his breath to send it out into the street where that potential would never take hold. Price hates that he is human. Price hates that he also destroys pretty things. 

Gaz was still pretty. Like the untumbled river stone on Price’s desk. That scared Price. It scared him because, to Gaz, he would be the hands that tore. There would be no denying, that once Gaz’s beauty was stripped away, it would be Price’s fault. The oils of Price’s palms were what will have worn down his edges and stripped away that which made him unique. 

Price can see Soap in the old apple tree that grew in that big field near Price’s family home. Tall and strong, until late summer came once more, and its apples bloomed. Then the little kids from Price’s home all clamored, like the damned to sin. 

The kids tore at the apples with greed and violence, ripping away the gifts the tree seemed to have in abandon. The tree always gave. It gave and gave until its branches bowed under scrambling feet and snapped at the pull of not-weak-enough arms. 

Price had watched the tree’s giving lead to its death. 

The branches slowly broke away under human hands, and its gifts were forced to wane. Yet the kids still came, still scaled its trunk to get to the fruit—until their shoes girdled the bark and fingers shredded the leaves. Price had watched the tree give too much and nearly die because of it. 

But Price wasn’t worried about Soap. No, Soap, like that great apple tree, would be kept safe. Because after that year, where the apples had grown thin and so boots grew less heavy, a thick harry vine had also decided to take from the tree. 

Ghost was poison ivy. He’d been slashed and torn at, the ground that bore him salted and dosed in vinegar, and yet he always grew back. Strong and vengeful, he brought regret to those who touched him. 

Price saw Ghost in the vine that wrapped that apple tree. 

It scared the children, it made them shy away. The next year, when the apples returned, few returned to climb its branches. The brave ones were left red and damaged. Anyone who dared wade though the three-pronged flourishing underbrush learned what it meant to regret. Humans avoid discomfort, they will not approach something that could harm them. 

The apple tree grew back, strong and green. Its gifts became plentiful once more. The vine twisted itself around the tree’s figure and breathed its soft rustling into the apples own. The ivy allowed the tree to keep its gifts all to itself, only having to share with only the few squirrels that learned to navigate the vine’s twistings. 

Price has watched poison ivy live through the worst of human destruction. The hands that didn’t want to take—that just wanted to destroy. Price watched the evolution of the plant learn to keep those hands away. 

Price trusted that it would keep those hands away from Johnny. 

Ghost is poison ivy, and people itch to get away. He keeps at bay those who would take without care. He lets Soap, who has so much to give, be only for those he wants to give to.

[suncast-moth]

Moth Lore 2 - Living and Working

The lives of mothfolk are generally considered similar to humans. This being due to the fact that they have observed humans for so long during their nights. Especially the far more curious moths; they discovered ways of living that intrigued them and only made them want to try. Thus leading to how they live and thrive. 

Back when only rocks and trees were used to make weaponry and tools, they copied what they saw people do to become just a bit more modernized. This continued happening for centuries. 

These moths happen to have plenty knowledge on wildlife due to their own survival in the woods and from experiences. From passing information down to their young, to just teaching one another in differing skills. 

When mothfolk learned from watching humans, how to create things and garden just from their usual observing, they started to gain their own village traits. Making small shops for simply trading, and eventually, among making these shops, they built homes. Their homes were varied. Originally they would burrow in the ground, or into the trunks of trees. Some still happen to do so, but now, they create homes up within the canopy of their forests. Just to be safe from predators. 

A small fault of this design was found when some parts of their communities ended up in incidents and lost their abilities to fly. Climbing was always a possibility, yes, but due to the vines and vine-strung bridges connecting the canopy homes, some had created housing closer to the forest floor as a result. It wasn't as safe, but, it was accessible. 

Now, among the lives of these moths, there are always a few kleptos that will gladly visit humans. Especially in the dead of night. In fact, within a few villages, it's known that a duo of mothfolk had snuck off to the human towns, just to steal a charcoal grill for themselves. Surprisingly that had advanced their manners of cooking. This, bringing to the next part regarding the living situations of these bug people. 

Their diets. 

The mothfolk more commonly consume things of plants. These items going from nectars, berries, fruits. They sometimes will eat mushrooms as well. Now, while for the most part, they don't require meat as part of their diet, that doesn't stop them from eating it. They can still consume it just as any other creature. It won't harm them at all since it's merely extra protein for their kind. 

As the mothfolk will continue following and learning from what humans will do, many have learnt new cooking skills, how to bake, many things like this. They happen to learn to garden for their own work too. Just so they can keep their own shops and livelihoods running through trade. Interesting enough, there had even been some moths that had managed to make wine from just entirely forgetting about a selection flower nectars they had on hand. An entertaining result once they had discovered the mere tastes of it. Especially the effects of such a beverage. 

From constantly copying humans, there had been a point where moths discovered the arts. Acts of theater, painting, molding things from clay. They had ended up starting from catching the eye of people carving wood. So they used their claws to carve into trees. Not that it was anything special or interesting, as there had only ever been simply claw marks. 

The arts among mothfolk merely continued growing from here. Now, within their villages, you can see stages for performances, sections for sculpture and paints. Interestingly, some moths that happened to be able to produce silk, had went to weaving their silk to create clothing, ribbons, sometimes just designs in lace. It would always depend. 

These arts would often spread to them creating their own celebrations like the humans would as well. Following their own deities and their own ideas for what to celebrate as well.

Amongst their village living, even they happen to have their own celebrations and activities during the different seasons. With winter months, they aren't known to do much activity outside of necessary trading and foraging, due to the cold weather not suiting their a lot of their thin furs. Even in winter, moths usually won't grow a thick enough fur coat to remain warm while it snows. Moths that have naturally thicker fur tend to be better suited for the cold, which does tend to be why they can be found in far colder areas of the world.  Usually moths will gather around any kinds of fires and in sunlight to try and get that warmth during the cold months. 

Once spring finally comes along, moths will begin planting seeds for their shops and overall produce. Not to mention repairing any damages in their homes caused by the awful weather. Wood rots, and so it can damage their homes when the snow and ice does eventually melt. Thankfully most damage is merely soaked leaves that were used for roofing. When its this time, they will occasionally be seen in festivals amongst humans as well though. Just a small few, as they wish to blend in with the festival activities. They'd be in danger otherwise. 

When fall eventually comes around, the spirits eve is a wonderous time for mothfolk to safely exist among humans. Whether it be for the entire month of the holiday, or just that day. Often times they have to be spread out however. That way they won't stick out like sore thumbs amongst the human crowds. 

Why is it such a danger and worry for the mothfolk to be around humans and their culture outside holidays and festivals? The hunters. People will hunt for their fur, their antennae, their wings, anything they could use to possibly get rich. Years in the past, many of the elder moths have known their family and friends to be lost due to this foul poaching. Some moths are actual survivors of this harsh treatment from humans. Often it leaves them with damages that disable them thanks to traps and other sorts of weaponry. It's a horrifying and traumatic part of living for these folk. 

[sethshead]

So there he sat, grumpy and unhappy to be there, knees wide apart and soft tiny hands dangling between them, like vines that had yet to sprout fruit; this terrible man, upset with the world to the extent that it was not fully about him, unable to fill the void inside him with the worship of followers, unable to find love despite the existence of children who had been raised to be as venal as himself; unable to find satisfaction despite a store of money that should have paid for any pleasure it ever occurred to him to want. There he sat, in a room full of people who were not fooled by him, who knew exactly what he was and were not interested in flattering him. There he was, falling back on an act that had always worked quite well on those who had drunk deep from his poison, wondering why the interviewer had scorn for him, why the audience appeared to be laughing at him instead of with him, wondering why they didn't see at once why asking him tough questions was "very unfair," wondering why they didn't approve wildly when he said that the black woman wasn't black. There he was, and it was a very small taste of purgatory for him, and all he knew was that later he would have the opportunity to complain at length about their rudeness, to perhaps call their humanity into question, to, if all went well, further than that, once he reclaimed the power that was only useful, in his estimation, because it was good for him. There he was, and what got under his skin, what would bother him while he got whatever sleep he was still capable of in a diurnal cycle shattered by drug abuse, what he only vaguely realized was a taste of the desserts that awaited him, was that none of this was a step closer to his destiny, but an hour's further lurch closer to the moldering darkness of his grave: the only mirror in all the universe that would reflect his true face back at him.

-- Adam-Troy Castro

[swordluck]

Afflicted as they are, undead and ashen one alike, such things as eating or sleeping are scarcely required. But to go without only further distances them from their now bygone mortality, the eventual wearing away of the self and soul from their affliction quickening without such human acts to ground them. Perhaps it might worry Anri then, that in the time since their reunion in the Cathedral of the Deep, he's not so much as laid his head down at their camp fires. "Taking first shift," Crow'd say, only for the morning to greet her with estus soup on the fire and the sound of his cruel sword being sharpened. "Gonna work on some firebombs 'fore tucking in," he'd reassure, yet his bedroll remains as untouched and rolled up as it's been since the start of this venture. Maybe she can see it, in those glances he spares her when the cowl is pulled down and his gaze is weary and worn-down but grateful. Nightmares dogging his step, the wages of Aldrich's terror having left stripes upon his head and heart... yet above them both, sleep he'll abstain solely to assure himself that the Anri next to him is not merely a dead man's dream.

Their path wound through a dense grove, thorn-hooked vines reaching as if to snare them, snagging their tattered fabrics. The weeping ground beneath their boots was rich with mulch, the stagnant air steeped in the earthy scent of moss and fungus. Twilight filtered softly through the claw-tipped boughs that scraped the sky above, cloaking the world in muted blues and greys. Anri walked ahead, her step light – buoyed by Crow’s steady, familiar presence. It was she who stopped first, her helm tilting slightly as she caught something in the thin sliver of her vision.

“Blackberries,” she exclaimed softly, something akin to joy bubbling behind that single word. Pushing up her visor, she turned to face her companion, her pale face framed by wisps of fair hair that had slipped free of her helm. “Look there.”

A tangled, sprawling bush stooped under the weight of ripened fruit, the beaded bodies of berries gleaming like dark jewels. Anri removed her gauntlets as she approached, peeling away not only steel and leather but the weight of the day’s trials. Bare fingers, pale and slender, reached carefully into the thorns, plucking at a particularly generous cluster.

“Oh, they look so sweet,” she murmured, turning to Crow, her face aglow with an unguarded smile. Her eager palms cradled the dark fruit, their juices already staining her skin in hues of plum and crimson.

“If you will not take care of yourself,” she said both playfully and plainly, “then I may be forced to feed you myself.”

Before he could summon one of his deflective remarks, she found the best berry of the bunch and held it to his lips.

“Humour me, Samuel.”

For a moment, he was stock-still, the shadow of his cowl obscuring his expression. Then, with a sigh that sounded like the loosening of some inner knot, he leaned forward. His lips brushed against her fingers as he took the fruit. Anri tried to ignore the warmth that bloomed in their wake, tried to focus instead on imagining the burst of juice on his tongue, bittersweet and autumnal. A grounding simplicity, a scant meal shared. A gift to be grateful for.

“These small, unremarkable things – they tether us,” she murmured, her gaze fleeting and fond. Eyes settled on him for only a moment, before diverting to the thicket around them. Then, as though reaching a quiet understanding, they stood side by side and feasted out of the cups of their hands. Fingers pincered, purpled, sticky with juice, they picked the fattest and ripest of the wild fruit, sharing small murmurs of appreciation.

When the last of their impromptu harvest was devoured, Anri tugged on her gauntlets and gathered her resolve.

“Come,” she said, gesturing to the narrow deer-trod path ahead. “Let us find a place to settle for the night – a place for you to rest.”

A pause, as her blue-sky gaze skirted over Crow’s shabby edges, the tang of blackberries loosening her tongue:

“Your kindness is commendable, but you must let me take the first watch tonight. Please, trust me to keep you safe.”

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Abyss

Behold the fruit of my hard work and dedication - a 4500 word MDZS Subnautica AU (part 1)! And when you think I barely knew what that was a month or so ago - character development!

Special thanks to @sasukimimochi for not only giving me alien fish brain worms in general but also for this prompt and all the feedback that's helped me improve this ficlet! This wouldn't have been possible without you!

This will probably not make very much sense without context, but I tried my best to write it in a pretty simple way so that it can be enjoyed on its own even so. The focus is more on feeling anyway!

Enjoy and see you in part 2 <3

There had never been anything more unnerving to Wei Wuxian than silence where there had always been noise, the suffocating feeling of nothing where there had always been something. And that place, that planet, had not been quiet. There had always been sound – the creatures, the currents, the mechanical whirrs of technology, the radio transmissions of people long gone, the data bank entries.

The voice of a loved one, the reassurance that they were still alive because you could see their vitals beep mechanically across a screen, endless. The promise of return, the confirmation that they were with you still.

All of that had been replaced with silence – and Wei Wuxian felt it crawl into his body like winding, lead vines, his hands going numb with anxiety as his heart rate picked up to the point of a health alert beeping incessantly into his ears. It was as though the entire world had stopped, quieted down as if in waiting, like an eager audience focused on the climax of a theater play. What was going to happen next? What would the grand reveal be, the aftermath of what had been before?

Because, before that terrible, painful silence, there had been deafening noise – screaming, growling, the sickening sound of equipment being torn into by something beyond the capabilities of human imagination. He heard it – all of it, through the communication system, and could do nothing but that. Hear. Fourteen hundred meters below sea level, four hundred beyond the capacity of his Seamoth, his beloved was fighting for his life against a relentless, wrathful monster.

And he was powerless to help. If he had tried going down, the pressure would have caved the entire ship into itself, so even if Lan Wangji did survive, there would be nowhere – and nobody – left for him to return to.

And they had made a promise, when they found themselves stranded in this hell world – that they wouldn’t both die here. That, no matter what happened, no matter what they encountered, one of them would come back home alive and stay alive – because there was someone waiting for them at home, in a corner of their galaxy they hadn’t seen ever since they’d passed through the phasegate leading them here. And they had made a promise to that little, crying face, that they would return.

And so, no matter how much his instincts screamed at him to do something, anything, come up with a plan, how can you stay idle while your husband is dying?! – Wei Wuxian did nothing but listen to the fierce fight, motionless in place, shaking, eyes squeezed shut like he was waiting for a powerful blow to hit him the same way it would hit Lan Wangji. 

And then, it was over. The sounds stopped altogether, replaced with that same nothingness that Wei Wuxian had always been so desperate to fill, with music and conversation and even just the tiniest hums and responses from his beloved. 

But he could do none of those things then - all that he was left to do was, yet again, to listen. Listen for the communication system to crackle to life, and for Lan Wangji to tell him that he was  alive, that the creature had been defeated or at least ran off – but Sea Dragons were nothing if not vicious. And despite the prowess of the prawn suit, it had never claimed to be indestructible. If anything, Wei Wuxian was quite certain he had heard it being destroyed before the transmission cut off.  

What could he even do now? He did not have enough supplies to build a second prawn suit, not on such short notice, to try to – to reach that facility as well. The only reason they’d even gone there was an attempt to find a cure for the bacterium they’d both been infected with, to try to stay alive in this wretched place until they could get out – but of course, nothing could ever come easy in a place like this.

And he doubted he could deal with the knowledge that he had lost his husband – or, should there be any left, the remains of – of the suit and the - ! 

His vision became blurry as he stared ahead at the ship’s controls, useless. His fists clenched, hard, and he felt his wedding band bite against his skin with the strength of his grip. Would that symbol of love and devotion now become a relic? A bitter reminder of the person he lost because he couldn’t do anything but listen to him die?

How could he allow all this to happen? Why did he not think of something, anything to prevent this? He should have never let Lan Wangji go down there, he should have –

…ei…ng – Wei Ying!

Wei Wuxian’s head snapped up, as if to search for the source of the sound. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Was this just some other creature attempting to prey on him and use some form of telepathy to get him vulnerable?

Wei Ying, do you copy?

A tremor shook violently through Wei Wuxian’s body, the last of his tears flowing down his face. That was not a trick, it couldn’t have been. No matter how powerful, the creatures on that planet could not replicate Lan Wangji’s voice so well. No, that was his husband, loud and clear – and yet,  “Lan Zhan…? You’re… you’re alive?”

I am here. I managed to evade the Sea Dragon Leviathan by taking cover inside the facility.

Relief flooded Wei Wuxian’s system to the point of it being nearly overwhelming, a fresh wave of tears invading his vision. His husband was there, he was still alive, conscious and his, there was still hope that they would, somehow, reunite and perhaps even leave this terrible place. 

However, the prawn suit is beyond repair. I am going to have to manage on my own.

The relief had been short lived, though, as the magnitude of the situation befell Wei Wuxian again. Lan Wangji was not only alone in a strange, alien facility, but he was also largely defenseless. Whatever awaited him there… he would have no chance to survive against it.

But returning to the base, or even swimming upwards towards the Seamoth, was not viable either – for all it was worth, the alien facility was far safer than the open waters, where it was no guarantee other hostile creatures would not attack. In fact, it was more of a guarantee that Lan Wangji would die if he left the building than if he stayed inside of it.

Wei Wuxian could tell he was spiraling, and losing his head to overthinking and panic would help nobody - what he needed to be was calm, collected and rational. He would allow his emotions to take over once Lan Wangji was in his arms once more, safe and unscathed. 

So, Wei Wuxian took in a deep breath to steel himself and focus on the certainties of the moment.  One, his husband was alive. And two, he needed to help him stay alive until they found a way to get him out of there. Two possibilities emerged: either Lan Wangji would be able to find a safe exit, or Wei Wuxian would come up with a way to go down there and retrieve him - of course, without compromising any of their vehicles. 

Considering the fact that he did not currently have the equipment to go down to the facility and retrieve Lan Wangji himself, the latter option would not be viable - so all that was left was for Lan Wangji to find a safe passage away from the facility. 

As tedious as that could be, though, the alien buildings were rarely death traps – their previous inhabitants needed a means to get in and out, after all. The only question was, how did they manage to do that in a building 1400 meters below sea level, surrounded by an active lava lake and aggressive predators looming so closely?

“How’s your inventory?”

I’ve emptied out some of the storage unit of the prawn suit and still have the supplies I need. I’ve used up one of my tablets to deactivate the force field.

“Vitals?”

Optimal. I’m alright, Wei Ying.

“Okay.” A deep breath, and hands that kept clenching and unclenching to regain feeling. “Tell me what you see.”

For now, there is nothing but –

A loud, mechanical sound came through, and Wei Wuxian could hear the other gasp, startled. He felt his body tense up, heart hammering suddenly against his ribcage.

“Lan Zhan?”

The facility powered on. It was sudden.

Wei Wuxian let out a breath, trying to relax away the tension in his muscles. “Okay. Is it clear?”

Seems so. There’s… something here.

There is a pause as Lan Wangji scans the structure. Wei Wuxian feels his palms sweat as he decides to maneuver the Seamoth to the base and try to think of building something to help in the meanwhile.

According to the databank, it’s an ion fabricator. It creates ion deposits that can be then mined for cubes. 

Wei Wuxian sighed, both frustrated and disappointed. “But the prawn is ruined, so we can’t use it.”

Mn… A pause, before Lan Wangji continued, There are also various artifacts here, I can scan them for you if you want. While I try to find an exit. 

Wei Wuxian found himself smiling slightly, “You know I can’t resist recording some of this really cool alien data. Perhaps it will be worth something when we get back home, and I’ll finally get funding for my research lab.”

 Lan Wangji’s tone softened ever so slightly. 

I will do my best to gather as much information as I can. There are seven entrances I can access freely, and I believe this facility’s main purpose is exactly that, research.

The situation must have definitely worn down on him as well, despite his attempts to downplay it – and now it was the first time since he’d so very narrowly escaped death that he could think of something else but survival. He found himself wishing Wei Ying was there to marvel at the alien architecture and technology and make that place a little less terrifying, a little less treacherous. 

“I’m trying to come up with something to help you, maybe there’s something I can build using our storage…”

No time for that. 

“Lan Zhan-”

Have any of our sea creatures hatched yet?

Wei Wuxian sighed, deciding to give in to the deflection. He would try to find a solution regardless, but he supposed it was better for Lan Wangji not to have to worry about him as well. With all his inventiveness and prowess, even Wei Wuxian himself could admit that he could be reckless sometimes - especially when his beloved’s life was at stake. 

So, Wei Wuxian’s eyes flitted towards the aquarium, in search of new little creatures. He had not even thought to look at it, overcome with dread and anxiety - however, the eggs sat motionless in the sand, no sign of any ready to leave their encasing. 

“Not yet. I think they’re waiting for you.” Wei Wuxian’s voice shook slightly, feeling the other’s absence now more than ever, “Don’t let me be a single parent, alright?”

I will come back to you.

Wei Wuxian opened his and Lan Wangji’s shared data bank just so he would have something to do - something other than be afraid -  and, for a moment, he became distracted with what his husband had recorded for him.

“All of this… so many species, they were so thorough…”

I believe we’ve encountered most of these, except for the Sea Emperor Leviathan. There's a preserved fetus here that the researchers appear to have been unable to utilize.

“They were looking for the Enzyme, weren’t they? Just like we are…”

How are your symptoms?

“Just like usual.” Wei Wuxian lied, and he knew Lan Wangji didn’t believe it either, but he didn’t press the issue. In fact, just that morning, right after Lan Wangji had left for the depths, Wei Wuxian had a flare up, a painful, bloody coughing fit followed by a bout of hallucinations that nearly had him destroy important components of their base in an uncontrollable rage.

If they didn’t find a way to access the Enzyme, Wei Wuxian could not help but fear he would end up being the one to hurt his husband and kill both of them in the process.

There isn’t just alien technology here.

“What do you mean?”

There is a 15th century sword here. From Earth.

Wei Wuxian tapped his chin in thought, “15th century… the 1400s… The Renaissance? Galileo, Copernicus… could some of the greatest human achievements be credited to an alien race?”

Perhaps they did not become involved, merely observed and collected samples.

“Most likely, but that isn’t as entertaining.” Wei Wuxian allowed himself a small laugh. “This is going to make Earth historian meetings a lot more interesting when it gets out.”

Lan Wangji let out a huff, almost chastising Wei Wuxian for the oncoming scientific chaos he seemed eager to cause. But in truth, he missed the other’s humor, the little remarks he would make whenever something surprised him - and the alien base was indeed surprising. Wei Wuxian would have to make do with the scans and the data, though - as well as Lan Wangji’s stories. And while he had never been much of a storyteller, he would try. He would tell Wei Wuxian anything and everything he wanted about that place as long as he managed to get out of there alive. 

There was silence for a while again as Lan Wangji scanned through the artifacts and explored the area, though it was less nerve-wracking this time, because Wei Wuxian could hear him breathe, and move – and though it was not ideal, it was more than enough for now. However, the anxiety ate away at Wei Wuxian regardless – he could not be there with his husband, could not see what he was seeing, and couldn't help him.

Not to mention, Lan Wangji’s options were limited - without the prawn suit, there was not much he could do and there was nothing he could use to either defend himself or build something to escape. 

The communication system came to life again. I’ve reached some sort of pipe room. There is tubing, where infected peepers swim through and come out cured.

Wei Wuxian tapped his chin again. Could that be part of the alien’s project to cure Khara’a? Had they managed to get some kind of experiment to be successful or was there something else healing the fish? 

 “Can you trace back where the healthy ones are coming from? Maybe that’s where the cure is.”

The tubing system appears to be built into the facility somehow, I cannot follow it…there is no exit here, either. 

A cold shiver ran down Wei Wuxian’s spine, and though he had never been superstitious, he could not help the sinking feeling that settled into his gut. “Be – Be careful, alright? If there’s anything – “

There is not. And, in a softer, soothing voice,  Trust me, Wei Ying. I will be alright.

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms in front of his chest, as if seeking warmth, comfort. His voice had dropped as well, unsure of whether he wanted to speak out loud or not.  “This is really difficult for me, you know? You’re down there, and I’m up here, and I can’t do anything…”

I know. It will be over soon.

Wei Wuxian did not find comfort in those words at all, feeling his eyes well up again. “Don’t say it like that.”

I apologize. I meant that this… unpleasant situation will be over soon. I will not. We will not.

Wei Wuxian desperately wanted to believe that, to hang onto Lan Wangji’s words like they were the promise of the heavens and not even dare to question them. But this planet is not a place for hope, for optimism - it’s a merciless underwater jungle, hell beneath a sparkling blue surface. And there had never been room for hope in the abyss. 

I have found another… doorway. It is guarded by a forcefield. 

Wei Wuxian quickly wiped at his face, clearing his throat so he could speak. “Where does it lead?””

I can’t tell. 

“You’ve already used up the tablet we found, though… ” Wei Wuxian all but wailed. “God, if only I could find a way to –“

I have brought a second tablet, Wei Ying. Lan Wangji interrupted, only a little bit smug about it. I was granted access.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help a little smile. “Always so well prepared, of course my husband would foresee even the most unexpected things.”

But instead of some teasing reply back, Wei Wuxian was once again met with silence, and he realized the more time passed without hearing his husband, the more the dread he’d barely managed to stave off returned. 

“Lan Zhan? What’s going on?”

There was no response. Of course, Wei Wuxian could hear the other breathe still, and nothing violent seemed to have happened because Wei Wuxian had not heard anything to cause him worry. 

So then why wasn’t his husband replying?

“Lan Zhan?” 

Yes. I am here. 

“Are you alright?”

Do you remember the vision I had? 

“With that female creature thing?”

Yes.

“What about it?”

She’s calling for me.

Wei Wuxian felt ice invade his bloodstream, his voice unsteady as he spoke. “Lan Zhan, that wasn’t real.”

It is now.

“Lan Zhan!” He all but screamed, slamming his hands into one of the ship’s consoles. “Whatever that thing told you, it wasn’t real. Don’t listen to it!”

Lan Wangji did not reply, but Wei Wuxian did not want to allow silence to take over again. He struggled to steady his breaths, quick as they were, and continued, “Tell me what you see.”

A moonpool.

“That’s…all?”

Yes.

“Lan Zhan, you’re – are you going in?”

There must be something of value here, otherwise they would not have guarded it like this. 

“There could also be something dangerous they wanted sealed away. Lan Zhan, we can’t just infer on –“

There is no other way, Wei Ying.

“Did -” Wei Wuxian swallowed back his tears and the mounting despair, “Did that thing you saw lure you in there?”

Was his husband losing his mind? Was that it then? He would jump into the water, right in the jaws of whatever awaited him there, and Wei Wuxian would be left to, once again, listen to it happen? Would his husband go die willingly?!

Wei Ying, I am still of sound mind. If whatever I am seeing was trying to kill me, it would have already. But I think this is different. 

It was growing increasingly difficult for Wei Wuxian to control his emotions, voice coming out louder and more desperate than he had intended. “Lan Zhan, you - we can’t just risk so much for a hunch!”

There is nothing else to do. I either take the risk, and perhaps find a way home, or I die here.

Wei Wuxian could hear the echo of his husband approaching the water, and the sound of his body disturbing the surface, little ripples hitting against him. “W-What if there is something else, what if you haven’t found it and you’re just – you’re killing yourself for no reason?!”

Lan Wangji remained ever so calm, There is nothing else. I’ve checked everything.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes scanned wildly around the base, hoping that a solution would manifest itself out of thin air for him to hang onto. “Then – then wait, I can try to upgrade the Cyclops! I-I have enough time to go find the materials we’re missing, it’s only a few things, I can already set up the map and-“

Wei Ying. I asked you to trust me.

Wei Wuxian all but slid, bonelessly, against the console, voice breaking, “I do, Lan Zhan, I trust you and I love you and I… I can’t let you – I can’t lose you. I don’t want to, and I’m-“

I love you.

It was too late to stop himself from crying now, “Don’t say it like you’ll never say it again.”

I’m going in.

“Lan Zhan…”

And once again, Wei Wuxian found himself surrounded by silence. What could he do now? Who could even know what Lan Zhan would find, what kind of creature would tear him apart without any hope of fighting back? And when - if - that happened, what would Wei Wuxian do?

He needed his husband, needed to not feel like the world had forgotten him there and was waiting for him to die just like everybody else already had. He needed to not be alone, to have someone to live for, to fight for, to make him feel like there was still a point to his struggle to survive. 

And he still - A-Yuan was still at home, waiting for him. Waiting for both of them - to come back and tell him stories about worlds further away than even his imagination could take him… to tuck him into bed and kiss him goodnight, and make his favorite breakfast every morning… What would Wei Wuxian tell his son when he asked about his a-Die? That some terrible monster tricked him into offering himself as sacrifice in a strange facility deep inside a cursed sea? Wouldn’t A-Yuan ask ‘where were you then, baba? why didn’t you do anything’? What would Wei Wuxian tell him? That he was incapable? Useless? That he hadn’t even tried?

Would his son not hate him then? Would he not hate himself? Would it be right for him to keep living?

Wei Ying! Wei Ying, can you hear me?

Wei Wuxian did not react at first. There was no way that was his husband. Perhaps that creature had found a way to reach Wei Wuxian, and was trying to make him believe in delusions so he would jump into the water and let himself be killed as well. 

But Wei Wuxian would not let that happen. He would not give in, and he would not allow this horrid place to kill him. If he decided he would die, he would do so on his own terms - and if these monsters had taken his husband away from him, he would not give them the satisfaction to take him too, to claim another life. 

Wei Ying! I’m - there wasn’t a monster, it saved me! I’m trying to…

“Get lost.” Wei Wuxian almost wanted to laugh. That’s what that monster would want him to believe, right? That Lan Zhan was alive, so he would run out and try to find him, only to fall prey to it!

I’m - I don’t know where I am, I can’t… go on any further…

“I said, get lost!”

What an annoying creature! Did it not realize Wei Wuxian would not fall for its tricks? If only he had the equipment to go out there and kill it - kill all of them, everything, destroy the whole place, blow the whole planet all up until there was no trace left of it, of anyone or anything…

His eyesight blurred, anger simmering beneath his skin. He was having another flare up, wasn’t he? The bacterium was going to kill him… how disgusting…

Wei Ying, I know you’re angry, please, just listen…

Wei Wuxian coughed out a mouthful of blood. Why won’t the damn thing shut up already?!

“Get lost!”

Wei Ying… I know you’re sick, I know… know you don’t mean to… just… just listen… for a little bit…

Wei Wuxian heaved a long, painful breath, the pressure against his ribcage bringing some clarity to his mind. He could hear the other struggling to catch his breath, a sound far too realistic for anything on that planet to be able to make it.

What if that was indeed Lan Zhan? 

Wei Ying… the cure… the Sea Emperor Leviathan is… her eggs… go and…  free them and… I… 

All Wei Wuxian could hear now were quick, shallow breaths - and he sprinted towards the Seamoth with all his might, more afraid now than he had ever been before. Would his husband die before he reached him with the Seamoth? Had he been so incredibly dumb to think someone was playing mind tricks on him and left his husband to die in the middle of the ocean?! 

Would Lan Zhan die thinking Wei Ying let him -

The radar on the ship blinked rapidly as it detected the temperature pattern of a human being less than 300 meters away - Lan Zhan was close, a lot closer than Wei Wuxian had thought him to be. If he hadn’t snapped out of that trance, if he hadn’t - 

When he got close enough, Wei Wuxian was quick to jump out of the vehicle towards the floating, aimless body of his husband. He was unconscious, but not dead - he couldn’t be dead. Wei Wuxian would never forgive himself if his mistake killed his beloved, and he would betray his promise and take his life right there. 

So, with shaking, fearful hands, and tears clouding his vision, Wei Wuxian brought his husband into the Seamoth and carefully removed his helmet so he could breathe freely. But the first thing Wei Wuxian noticed, other than the slow breaths that fanned from his beloved’s lips, were two shining tear tracks down his face. 

–

The vehicle surfaced with ease. Outside, the planet’s sun shone brightly on a clear sky, casting light over the wild greenery of the Mountain Island. 

Wei Wuxian let the hull of the Seamoth open, warm rays of sunlight cascading over Lan Wangji’s face. He had carefully placed his husband in his arms as he sat in the captain’s seat, never wanting to let him go again, and so he anchored the ship to the shore like a sailboat, rocking with the tiny waves like a child’s crib. 

Now, all that was left was to wait. 

Lan Wangji had not been unconscious for long. It was likely that exhaustion caught up to him before he could make it ashore - after all, no matter how strong, he was still human. A human that had barely survived a nearly fatal attack and then ran around a strange place in search for a way out, not unlike a trapped animal seeking escape from its cage. Anybody else in his place would have been long gone - so much effort for his body to take, on top of being infected by a powerful bacterium… it was a wonder he was still alive. A miracle, even. 

Running a hand through Lan Wangji’s sweat-damp hair, Wei Wuxian could not help the tears in his eyes from falling as he leaned down to leave a soft, chaste kiss over his love’s forehead. He had almost lost him - and not even because of a mindless sea monster or a twisted form of technology.

He could have killed his husband himself.It felt sacrilegious to love on him now - to touch him, to hold him. But Wei Wuxian could not help it, not as his body still trembled with the horrors that he had had to live through. Or rather, to witness. He would never forget that suffocating feeling of helplessness, the despair that came with hitting the limits of technology and his own humanity. 

It flows out of him almost as smoothly as his tears do - a song so full of heart and longing and love, that the world around disappears into it.

And then, quietly, a second voice joins in, humming along the beautiful melody and the shaking voice of his beloved. 

The song cuts off into sobs and I love yous, and the sound of the waves lapping at the sides of the floating ship…

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

Starting a new multichapter fic at last!

I’m here! I finally beat you!!

I’m waiting…

Where are you?

Are you okay?

Raine’s finger hovered over the final message, a hair length from the send button, wondering if it would make Eda more or less likely to message them back. Of her many aptitudes, she was perhaps most adept at dodging that particular question. But they still had to ask, didn’t they? Pressing down on the button, they took a deep breath and held it, until a new gray bubble popped up in the thread.

Yeah sorry, woke up with the common mold. Guess you’ll have to endure that ceremony after all :(

Raine groaned, barely resisting the urge to fling their scroll onto the ground, and pressed their free hand to their forehead. The only thing that had gotten them to graduation was the promise of getting to skip it. They’d been making plans with Eda for months. She was supposed to get dressed up with them, help them hide their ears, and finally take them to the Human Realm, where they could be far, far away from all the prying eyes in the Hexside auditorium and their moms’ disappointment. Where they could actually enjoy themself instead of being glued to their chair with terror at the prospect of walking across that stage. 

Come on! Last time you had the common mold, you still managed that spell that turned Bump’s office upside down for a week

Ah, but this time your fragile immune system is at risk too. Just go to the ceremony, Rainestorm. It’ll be over before you know it. And just think how happy you’ll make your moms

Another groan, louder than the last, rumbled in Raine’s chest, but this time it was a sound of defeat. That was the best card Eda could play, and she knew it. As much as they’d been looking forward to the Human Realm, their stomach had squirmed every time they thought about depriving their moms of the opportunity to coo over their graduation robes and take a dozen mortifying photos for the fridge. At least someone would be happy today. 

Drawing the fortifying breath of a soldier marching to their martyrdom, Raine willed Fiddlesticks into staff form and flew away from the snapdragon hill with a last look of regret. They almost turned right back around when Hexside— and the crush of people entering it— came into view, but Ms. Jenkinmeyer caught sight of them before they could make their escape and began waving at them so forcefully that they knew she wasn’t above sending a vine up to pluck them from the sky herself.

“Late, Mx. Whispers! On today of all days!” she scolded as they landed. “Your robes should be in your locker, so get going! And for Titan’s sake, do not let it catch any of your limbs with its teeth! You don’t have any time to waste!”

She pushed them up the steps and into the hall, where they began inching their way along as soon as she turned around. The students would be called up alphabetically, which meant that maybe if they stalled, they could slip into their seat just before they were called and could avoid the crowd for as long as possible…

Or maybe everyone in the crowd would see them trying to sneak in and boo at them for ruining the ceremony, chasing them from the auditorium with rotten fruit.

Raine broke into a sprint. 

They made it to the Paranormatorium just as the lights were going down, shoving their left arm into the sleeve of their robe as they scrambled into their seat, fervently thanking the Titan it was at the end of the line. Paige Weller glanced at them from her seat next to theirs, relief and confusion mixing on her face.

“Raine? I thought you were going out with Eda today.”

“She— has— the— common— mold,” they wheezed between breaths. 

“Didn’t she come to school the last time she had it? And pull that prank on Bump?”

Raine rolled their eyes. “This time— she’s worried— about my— delicate constitution.”

Paige smirked. “Now that makes sense.”

Raine shoved them lightly and was about to reply when Ms. Jenkinmeyer, from ten rows up, turned her head around one hundred and eighty degrees. “Silence,” she hissed. 

Both witches froze. 

When Bump began what promised to be an agonizing hour of speeches, however, Paige took the opportunity to whisper, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Raine couldn’t bring themself to echo the sentiment, but they gave her a smile. Paige had been the only other student in any of their bard classes who preferred hiding out in the lighting booth and eating iced scream to the terrifying ordeal of performances, and Raine knew they were just as petrified as they were about what lay ahead. At least she wouldn’t have to face it alone. 

As Raine had predicted, five out of six of the speeches were various iterations of we’re so proud of you, now go make us proud in return, because conformity and overachievement are things you can never graduate from. The sixth, given by Terra Snapdragon, was essentially a tutorial on how to try out for a coven. At least, as far as Raine could tell, considering they spent the entirety of it figuring out how low they could sink in their chair without drawing attention to themself. But as much as the speeches seemed to drag on, they were over all too soon. 

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” Bump called. “These promising young witches’ Final Ordeal! Starting us off strong is… Alador Blight!”

Alador drifted up the steps in a daze. He’d joined the Abomination Coven the month before at his girlfriend Odalia’s insistence, and since then, it always seemed like half of him was in his office at all times, his gaze on whatever new flavor of abomination he was designing. Raine fought the urge to close their eyes as shadows began to swirl around the stage, forming wings and teeth and blood-red eyes, wondering if Alador would even think to look up at the centibats before they attacked. The first one formed, opening its mouth wide to show every row of the hundred teeth it was named for, and flew straight for Alador’s face— only to get smacked by a wave of purple goo and fall back to the shadows it emerged from.

Alador didn’t even look up.

The rest of the bats met a similar fate, being slammed against the walls and each other by Alador’s abominations as he controlled them with a flick of his wrist. He made it to Bump without speeding up to so much as a light jog, and the crowd roared with approval, Odalia actually jumping up and down with the force of her delight. Beside her, Darius folded his arms and scowled at the floor. Bump raised his hands and sent a shower of gold sparks over Alador, ringing his head in a crowd of gold, and Alador ambled off the stage, a student no longer.

Not everyone faired as well as he did. Most students came away with clawed faces or bald spots or missing teeth. A few didn’t make it across the stage at all, and slumped back into their seats bent over by the weight of the year they would have to repeat. By the time the W’s began getting called up, Raine felt like every single defeated centibat had taken up residence in their stomach, all flapping around their intestines. When Paige stood in response to their name, they could see them trembling from head to foot. 

Paige summoned her guitar, and Raine exhaled as the melody filled the room. Clearly, Paige had practiced this; their fingers were steady as they moved over the strings, the melody clear and flawless. Dozens of centibats flew at her, and all of them bounced off of the shield of sound she was weaving. 

Until one flew directly at their face, and they lost composure. She hit a sour note, and her shield crumbled, the centibat opening its mouth and latching onto her nose. They shrieked, flailing, stumbling into another three centibats that latched onto their arm. Raine was half out of their seat, wondering if there was anything they could do, when she found the right note on her guitar, blasting the centibats off of her and sprinting over to Bump.

Cheers came from the parents’ section, but they were drowned out by the hysterical laughter of the students. Paige’s violet skin blushed a vivid magenta, and Raine could tell the secondhand embarrassment heating their own face didn’t leave them much better. They opened their mouth, determined to silence the crowd with a whistle even if it meant taking on the horror of their attention, but someone else beat them to it.

“Hey!” Ambrose shouted. “Leave her alone!”

“Yeah,” Vera added, “plenty of you didn’t do any better.”

“Plus, that was an epic tune,” Nico called. “All of you have it stuck in your heads now, don’t even try to deny it.”

The laughter subsided, and Raine breathed a sigh of relief.

“Next up is Raine Whispers!”

The sigh of a relief was a mistake. Raine fought to breathe in again, but their lungs didn’t cooperate. They stood robotically, so focused on getting air, any air at all, that they missed the first step and barely caught themself before they went sprawling face-first onto the ground. A chuckle ran through the room, and this time, no one called out to stop it. Paige wouldn’t want to draw attention to themself, of course, and unlike them, Raine didn’t have a future with the Bard Coven to bond them to their classmates. 

Eda would have made them shut up.

But Eda’s not here. Because of you.

Raine shook their head. Bump, their moms, even Eda herself had all told them that kind of thinking wouldn’t do them any good. Especially not now, facing down an army of ravenous centibats.

Centibats that looked like the shadows of Grom. 

Centibats that reminded Raine of the last time they stood in the Paranormitorium with all eyes on them, the last time Eda had ever set foot in Hexside at all—

They delivered a piercing whistle, loud enough to send every centibat flying but not nearly loud enough to block out the pain of the memory, and raced across the stage without so much as a scratch.

The laughter turned to cheers, and Raine tried to smile as Bump conjured the crown of light over their head. 

The cheering only grew louder as Raine settled back into their seat, no longer for them but for the entire graduating class. The students stood up as one, allowing their families and friends to shower them in celebratory rays of light, then broke apart as the room swelled with chatter. Raine’s mom spotted them immediately, taking their mama by the arm and rushing to pull them into a three-way family hug. 

“You did it!” their mama squealed, pulling back to ruffle their hair before planting a kiss on their head. 

“And you were the fastest person to cross the stage,” their mom added smugly. “I timed it.”

“Now, now, it’s not a competition,” Bump scolded as he passed by. “But you did very well, Raine. I’m certain you’ll be a credit to whichever coven is lucky enough to have you.”

“Raine isn’t joining a coven,” Odalia said in a singsong voice from where she stood beside Alador and his parents. “They’d rather make a living selling trash like their girlfriend. Good thing you learned how to tackle big, bad monsters on your own, Whispers. I don’t think Eda will be showing up to save you again after how things went at Grom.”

I don’t need anyone to save me, Raine wanted to say, and I don’t want to be like all of you. I’ve taken on a Coven Head before, and she wasn’t that tough. But the words shriveled up under the number of eyes turning their way. They thought about the other bards closing ranks around Paige, about Eda facing down Terra at their side, and just for a moment, they ached with longing to have someone watching their back.

“Do you want to go?” their mama asked quietly, and they nodded.

“Good,” their mom said, nudging them with a smile, “because we don’t want to make all your classmates jealous by giving you your graduation gift in here.”

Stepping into the open air, Raine drew their first full breath in an hour, leaning against a pillar to the right of the door and closing their eyes. They heard the low hum of one of their moms summoning something, but didn’t think twice about it until they felt something smooth and heavy being slid into their hand. They opened their eyes to see—

“A new violin?”

“The best that Harmony’s had to offer,” their mom said, passing them a bow made of the same warm brown wood as the instrument in their other hand. “Top-quality sound, and you can customize the scroll. There was a whole shelf of them at Harmony’s, but I’m sure Eda could carve you something custom if you’d prefer.”

Raine swallowed, trying to ease the tightness in their throat. “I’d like that.”

“Do you want to stop at her place before dinner?” their mama asked. “I know today wasn’t the same for you without her, but I understand why she didn’t feel up to attending. Maybe a visit will cheer both of you up.”

Moldy or not, surely Eda wouldn’t be able to worm her way out of at least talking to them through her window. Raine had never been able to imagine graduation without her— maybe just seeing her would be enough to calm the ickiness that had begun crawling through them since they’d arrived to their hill to find it empty. Maybe she’d be cheered up by being serenaded with this fantastic new violin.

There was another possibility, too, but not one Raine wanted to entertain until they saw for themself. No matter what, there was only one way to find out.

“Sure,” they said, drawing a circle to send the violin back to their house until they were ready for it and willing Fiddlesticks into staff form. “Let’s go.”