#i had to make the divider things myself so hopefully its good

[85-rend]

♦ Cerice / Scarlet ♥ It/xe/bug/mew ♦ 19 ♥ Queer and Disabled artist ♦

I'm just some guy, I draw bugs and creatures and weird furries. My main interests right now are Bug Fables, Hollow Knight, Rain World, Fear & Hunger, and Lethal Company.

I don't really have any fandom specific blogs, my blog is just kinda a mix of everything, but I do keep my art together on @zombugz! I also keep all my OCs over on my Toyhouse!

Kinda important stuff!

I'm ok with people messaging me! Just please try to be clear in what you're messaging me about.

I'm Autistic + Adhd and I struggle a lot with small talk and understanding tone, I also tend to talk very literally.

I frequently reblog posts of IRL insects (including spiders), I tag those as 'bug posting' if you need to block the tag!

If there's anything you ever need me to tag lemme know and I will!

If I ever reblog somethin from a shitty blog pls let me know!

My boundaries!!

Please ask if you're gonna use my art as an icon or somethin! (I'll most likely say yes but I prefer being asked)

Do not repost my art, reblogs are always appreciated though!

I'd prefer if people don't spam like me, I don't mind if you like a ton of posts but it becomes an issue when you like whole months worth of posts at once.

Bug hate will not be tolerated and will get you blocked, yes even about wasps. (not at phobias, more referring to the "kill it with fire" type comments and people going out of their way to hurt bugs)

Please don't send me sexual or fetish related messages. (I can't believe I have to fucking say this)

Proshippers stay the fuck away from me please.

[stxrmylxve]

Comforting Times (pt.2)

so either im wiggin, or my fanbase really likes jjk better than tokyo revengers. So I’m taking inspo from myself and creating these actions with jjk

ENJOY??!? (no custom dividers, sorryyyy)

⚠️ :

crying

past/occuring trauma

softies

sorcerer stuff

curses (things/rabid animal spawns) attacking

cursing (words)

hopefully your requests in the comments

—————————————————————————

Itadori:

“Y/n, don’t you think you shouldn’t test it without proper training?” Itadori asks as he steps back as you slice through the air.

“This is training yuuji!” you yell as you continue to kick and propel your powers like somesort of ninja.

“But you might get hurt…” he says with a frown.

“You could too with your trainings, more than you already do. Go inside and grab me a water, will ya please?” you ask as you turn to him with a smile as he jogs off.

As you turn back, you begin your next kick and mid air your leg is grabbed, throwing you down instantly with a yelp. The curse has acidic drool dripping, landing on your already twisted leg, making you scream and thrash in pain.

“You’ll do nice.” the curse says as it opens its mouth, expecting to gobble you up whole.

Tears fall down your face as the curse nears. Was this really the end? Like this? This lame experience? With no one around to see or help you?

The curse lets a final drip of acid hit your arm before you snap out of your trance and smash it’s face in two, using most of your energy in that blow alone as it whimpers and falls back.

You look down in shock at your hand that was oozing blood, probably from sudden use.

“Shit.” you say to yourself with a sigh as you walk past the curse, smashing its head with your heel for good measure as it whithered away with a sheak.

Just then yuuji comes back out, aparently so in his trance he hadn’t realize anything had gone down until he saw the trail of blood from you.

“y/n.. what happened here?” he asks cautiously as he examines your hand.

“One of your curse friends payed me a visit.” you say as you wince and pull your hand away from him.

“Sukuna, who was it?” Yuuji asks, more to himself, as a mouth appeared on his hand.

“And what makes you think I would tell you that, brat?” sukuna spits and the mouth fades away.

“Hey! Tell me or I purposely won’t let you see Megumi again!” Yuuji yells back, the mouth instantly reappearing and muttering something.

“Something of Mahito.” sukuna says finally.

You wipe the blood off onto your sleeve, the white fading into a crimson color instantly. You grimace at the thoughts of how to get this future stain out as Yuuji places his hand gently on your shoulder.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” he says with a dark scowl as he turns and walks away.

—————————————————————————

Megumi:

He had his demon dogs out, training with them with a stern face on. You look down at the lemonade below you on the counter, placing everything on the tray and turning around to walk outside to deliver them to Megumi.

There stood a curse, picking his tooth and spitting out a bone of who knows what before looking up with a toothy smile.

“Hi lovely.” the curse says as you drop the tray with wide eyes, backing up to the counter in fear as it continued to inch forward.

“I wonder what Megumi thinks of you. Rather, your past, hmm? Does he know? About all of the slutty things you used to do for pay.” the curse says as they tap their finger on the counter, the tapping echoing through the still house.

“D.. don’t mention my past like that. I’ve changed.. for the better!” you say as tears threaten to fall from your eyes, but you build the strength to hold them back.

“Well it’s not my fault, you just gave yourself away like that. It is all your past, I’m just stating the facts.” the curse says as it licks its lips.

“Don’t say things like that!” you yell as you slam your hands on the counter and charge at the curse, anger overtaking your senses.

“Wrong choice.” the curse says with a frown as it dodges you and sinks into the ground, showing up behind you and knocking the wind out of you with a punch, throwing you to the ground with a thud.

"Megumi isn't here to save you now, is he?" the curse says as it leans down, caressing your hair as your tears broke free.

The curse busted apart with a shriek as you watched it melt in horror, getting up quickly and brushing off your knees.

"Y/N??!" Megumi yelled as he swung around the corner, sighing to himself as he was relieved you were okay.

“You okay?” he asks as he knelt down to you and embraced you in a hug. You didn’t know why you were shaking, you had seen a curse before, but what it had said was right. You just didn’t want to ruin anything with Megumi.

But.. he will find out. After maybe then there really will be no one to protect you.

—————————————————————————

Sukuna:

Laying on the couch was always nice with Sukuna. He was so big that you pratically layed on top of him, one of his hands rubbing circles on your shoulder as the other held his phone.

He knew you had a hard time sleeping, rather getting to sleep. Once you were asleep, you slept like a rock, but getting to sleep was easier said than done. He knew this, so every night he lulled you to sleep with circles massaging your shoulder in hopes you would get some sleep that night.

However, you would occasionally also get nightmares. Nightmares about the blood and agony you had seen and heard from your family.

The sight had scarred you, still haunting your dreams to this day. Being pinned to the wall by a curse as it killed your family right in front of you. There was nothing you could have done other than to watch, but the pained feeling of guilt returned everytime you thought of them.

Tears streamed down the side of your face as you clung to Sukuna, trying to fight the nightmare that you knew you couldn’t end, but you still tried.

The tears seeped through his shirt to his skin and in an instant his phone was down and he picked you up like a baby and cradled you in his arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. You know that curse is dead now.” Sukuna whispers, kissing your temple.

He eventually gets you back to sleep after he had petted your hair for the past half hour as a comfort method. He smiled to himself as you slept soundly like a small child would.

“Awww-“

“Uraume say a word and I will kill you again.”

—————————————————————————

Maki:

“Hi, y/n.” Maki says as she puts her books into her bag and throws the bag over her shoulder.

“Hey” you reply simply, twirling your fingers to focus in anything other than the silence.

“You doing anything today?” she asks as she walks out of the classroom, peering down at you as you thought of anything she didn’t know yet.

“No.” you say finally with a huff as you look up in defeat knowing that ment you had training.

“Hey, it’s not so bad, you can train with me. I will go change and you go put your stuff down, I will meet you there.” she says with a smile as she takes off.

“Your little girlfriend treating you well?” your ex says as he pears around the corner.

You hated your ex. What they had done as far as manipulation was horrible. They had broken up with you simply because they hadn’t ever cared, and then spreaded false rumors about you. You wished you would have never seen their face again, but life never goes right all the time.

“She’s better than you ever were to me.” you spit as you walk past them, checking the time on your phone before speeding up your pace.

“Aww, we both know you loved me. You were just not the right level for me, you know I deserve better than you.” they say with a smile as you scowl at their bold arrogance and sigh.

“What do you want dude?” you say as you turn around, it was evident they were not leaving you alone any time soon.

“You.” they whisprr as they boop your nose, making you frown and turn away again, hoping to walk off and leave this madness alone.

“Hey don’t fucking ignore me?!” they yell as they slam you against the lockers, your backpack’s ridges digging into your back.

“Well you won’t leave me alone!” you yell as you kick them in the knee, running away as they doubled over. You wanted to find Maki. She would help you. Even if it was just with advice, it would help.

“Maki!” you yell as you reach the locker room, startling her from her silent changing as she turned to meet your rattled eyes.

“Everything alright?” she asks as she comes to your aid with comforting hands on your shoulders.

“They..they’re after me again!” you yell as you gasp for air, having ran through the whole hallway; it was tiring for someone like you.

“Your ex? Again? Did they not get the message to leave you alone?” she asks, face turning sour as she closes the door to the room and takes your bag from you, setting it next to hers and giving you a hug to calm your nerves a little faster.

“Come on, let’s go train to prove ourselves!” she says with a shy smile as she releases you from her tight embrace and ajusts her shirt, holding your hand as she leads you out to get your tools ready for training.

—————————————————————————

the beautiful toji:

He left the girl weeping in her bed, leaving an $100 dollar bill on her nightstand near her for good measure as the man walked out of the bedroom. He grabbed his phone on the way out and slammed the door, rattling the otherwise still apartment complex.

He let out a quiet ‘tch’ at the annoying amount of texts he had missed from another woman as he opened them and scrolled through the sorry messages in the elevator as it slowly went down. It stopped briefly at floor 5 as you walked in and then it continued down to the base level.

You wouldn’t lie, the sheer amount of muscle coating the man beside you was mesmerizing as is, but the clothing and the uninterrested look of the world in his eyes was just as amazing to you.

“If you keep looking, I think your jaw may drop to the floor.” he says with a laugh as you stiffen with a blush and look away out the window.

You mutter a quiet ‘sorry’ as you awkwardly shift from one foot to the other.

“What has someone like you coming outside at 1am?” he asks as the elevator reaches the lobby.

“Leaving a one night stand that went south.” you say simply as you pull down your shirt slightly and walk out first, slowing down for toji to fall beside you as you walked out together.

“Went south?” he asks as he slows and takes out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a puff as you explain how it had failed.

“mmm. So not y’re fault, it’s there’s.” he says after a while as he changed views from the bright stars in the sky to your dim face.

“I guess so, yeah.” you mutter as you wiggle your toes in your shoes, the ache of your feet starting to form like it did almost every night.

“Well I’ll let you go, keep in touch, yeah?” he says with a smile as he smashes the cigarette into the concrete and slips a card into your bag. It only had his number, which had probably been passed around to countless other people, but it still felt like you had the world in your hands right now.

You smiled to yourself as you took out the card and put it into your phone, texting a small thank you to the man as he was only a small dot in the night sky now. You turned and walked away, not aware that a curse was following you in the bushes.

You took two steps and the curse came to life, sheaking and charging at you at full force, scaring the living life out of you. You took off in the opposite direction, heading towards toji hoping he could do something to help out.

The curse was on your tail, running behind you on all fours as a dog would chase a person as it swerved in and out to get traction to speed up.

“Toji!” you yell as you begin to loose energy. He turned your way and quickly picked up on this, grabbing you just as you fell and he dodged the curse, it smashing into the ground and shaking the surrounding area.

“Fucking Suguru.” he says with a sigh as he pulls a sword out of his curse nearby, laying you down on the curse for cushion as he went to work on the curse to eliminate him once and for all.

The curse was smart, smarter than some he had met before. It swerved most of his main attacks, but eventually it gave out and accepted its fste.

He wiped the blade off breifly before putting it away and getting you up off of the ground.

“You alright?” he asks as he brushes your hair off, dirt falling to the ground in small groups.

“Uhm.. yeah. I think?” you reply as you check for any wounds, looking at the curse below you.

“You two.. good?” you asks as you back away.

“Yeah. He’s like my.. bag. But alive. He holds my stuff for me.” Toji says as the curse crawls on his shoulder and curls around his torso as well, settling comfortably as you watch in awe.

“Come on, I will take you down the street to the store to get you some water, food, and a bandage for that cut of the curse. Hopefully it will heal quickly.” he says as he takes off without another word, smiling to himself as he heard you behind him scambling to get your things and running to catch up.

You would be an interesting one.

—————————————————————————

y’all.. this took me 4 day. Yes, 4?! like, i was so out of ideas for them. I hope this served its purpose as many seemed to like the jjk request i did.

Bye!! <3

[tabieeee]

Stm anon here. Again with a whole essay.Its been a while,huh?Its mostly water,but I tried properly deliver my feelings (that nobody asked for) :3

I can't put my thoughts into something comrehensable rn,but I have a very bad feelings about Skibidi toilet getting a movie. I just don't think everything HAS TO BE made into a movie for it to be treated seriously.

I'm also concerned about how would other people percive it. I know I've said that cringe is dead,(it still is)I don't wanna repeat myself(I probably do) but it's just so tiring to see people treating the thing that you genuanly enjoy like its ''THE WORST THING EVER CREATED ITS BRAINROT OUR GENERATION IS DOOMED!!!!1111!!!!!'' as if they didn't had worse(Come on,didnt Youtube had straith up GORE and other bad stuff for unsupervised kids to see?). I bet its gonna be hated,called brainrot wheather movie gonna be actually good or not,you know,as usual :/

.What I want to say is that I don't want this series to recieve even more hate that it aIready does. I want to say a lot more but I'm in dead end of my own thoughts its very late,its very dark,moquitos are all over my laptop they're biting me aaaAAAA- Anyways I hope i'll be proved wrong Movie will be good,everyone will magically love it,EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY YAAY!!!!:DDD

It just feels like not a very good idea,to me personally.But what do you think about all of this? Do you think it all will somehow work out?

Oh hey! :D long time no see

I doubt they want to make the movie to have skibidi toilet treated seriously, it doesn't need to be. I think they're just going with the trendy thing or hopefully want to explore making a very goofy action movie. who knows. but dafuq being involved keeps me positive that it won't be ridiculously bad lel

the skibidi toilet movie sounds as fake as the fnaf movie, and that one did end up happening so what the heck. why not? might as well

the main difference I see happening is a divide between fans that watched the OG series first, or the movie first. and possible disagreements on canon or something. basically "book vs movie" debate

I don't think the movie is a bad idea! some people are gonna hate The Popular Thing™ no matter what just because lots of people are talking about it

it sucks that some people are weird about it, but we're having fun so who cares ;p

don't worry too much about how folks react, cringe is indeed dead and i killed it in cold blood :3

[multiversetravelingjournalist]

Language Construction Kit and The Art of Language Invention. A personal comparison

First off, this is not an Essay by definition of my high school. This is a rambling thought dump from a man who still feels novice in the craft of artificial languages. that said, I have recently read both Mark Rosenfelder's series to (somewhat) completion and David J. Peterson's book. I will say again that this is a personal opinionated take rather than an objective critique. I also invite both authors and readers to give their opinions as well. That said, let me compare.

The Language Construction Kit (LCK) was the first book I read on the subject of conlanging. at the time I was even more of a Novice so most of the terms flew over my preteen head. but after exposing myself to linguistic material of all types, I can say for certain that it is a good explanation of the technical terms one would stumble across in their research for inspiration. not only that but it being the first in a series of (so far) four other books means overall that there is a lot of ground to cover. those other three being the Advanced Language Construction (ALC), Conlanger's Lexipedia, and Syntax construction. However, it can be inconvenient to need all four books to experience the full range of advice the author has to offer (especially if one relies on Library Loan-outs, like myself).

Personally, I favor the Lexipedia because it is the only Rosenfelder book that my Library owns (for now). showing me the full range of semantics and meanings to make my conlangs' vocabulary unique. a close second would be the Syntax Construction Kit, for the one list that shows all the different ways grammar could be marked on a language. The LCK and ALC are also good for going through the overall basics of ones own conlang. however I have found sources online that cover some of the subjects in the same way. still nice to have around for a check list though.

The Art of Language invention is the second book I have read on the subject. What feels to me like a personal exploration of language creation from a creative view rather than a technical one. also covers things I feel are missed in the Rosenfelder series, one of those subjects being grammatical evolution which personally interests me. the book also goes over some (hopefully not dated) real world references as examples or inspiration. Such as explaining the creation of words from old ones like calling a pizza topping that falls off at the last moment a "DiCaprio". Or how a certain hotel has lead to "-gate" deriving as "a scandal associated with the word". I feel that these references work for approaching unusual features in a language in a way that makes sense. the conclusion at the end is also inspiring for comparing language construction to art, in that art can have many genres. Naturalism being used for paintings and certain conlangs leading to the questions of what a cubist conlang would be like? then asking if a popular piece of media had its own (sets of) conlang(s). I am glossing over most of it.

The biggest strength of the Art of Language construction, though, in my personal opinion, would be that of the four chapters dividing the book, each one ends with an example of the author's own process of approaching said subject from their own works. The phonology of Dothraki, the Vocabulary of Irathient, the Grammar of High Valyrian, and the Writing system of Castithan. reading these sections makes me feel that I too can find a way to approach whatever obstacles arise from my own works.

That is all I have to say, each book has its strengths and weaknesses, but I consider all of them to be useful in the self-education of conlanging. I do recommend them; I also recommend searching through linguistic sources mentioned in the books as further education.

Thanks for reading, and till next time... ;).

[antihero-writings]

The Crownless Prince

Fandom: Tangled the Series

Summary: Edmund is sure baby Horace will grow into a big, strong prince one day. On the day of his and Rapunzel's wedding, he comforts him that that's exactly what he grew up to be.  (My fic for the Wind in my Hair Zine)

He was the most beautiful thing Edmund had ever seen. With those big blue eyes, and that goofy smile. Edmund was sure he’d never seen anything more exquisite in his life. He wanted his son to know that. 

The king knelt down beside the crib, folding his arms along the edge and looking serenely at him. He reached down and picked up a rattle from his son’s feet, jiggling it over him. The baby prince reached for it in vain, smiling all the same, and his father returned the expression.

“Hello Horace.” He said softly, then in an almost joking way, “It’s me, your dad. You know me, don’t you?”

The baby cooed.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” 

Edmund let him have the rattle, looking out the balcony at the darkening sky. 

Once he had the rattle safely in his grasp, the infant prince became disinterested in it, and began reaching with all his might for something else.

Edmund looked around, trying to find what might have caught his eye but, after a moment, realized it was something on his person. His first guess was the shiny, purple pendant around his neck, which he held up between his thumb and forefinger. “Is this what you want?”

This was clearly not his desire; he stared at him, and promptly spit up. 

“Drat, guessed it wrong. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out!” Edmund paused, thinking hard for a moment. “Ah, I know now! This must be it!”—He reached up and took off his crown. The baby reached more emphatically as he placed it into his hands, and relaxed when it was in his grasp.      “Now be careful with that, Horace, it’s got lots of pointy edges! Wouldn’t want you to get hurt!” 

The baby kicked it in circles with his feet, looking up at him as he did so, as if directly defying his orders. 

Edmund chuckled. “That’s gonna be yours one day. You know that, don’t you?”  

The baby gave a sound that may have been a giggle, or may have been a burp. Edmund picked him up as he tried to gnaw on the aforementioned pointy edges. 

“You’re big aren’t you? That’s right you’re a big, strong boy! But you’re gonna grow up even bigger and stronger one day! Mm hmm!” 

The baby looked up at him with unknowing eyes, his lip hanging limply around the crown as his attention divided.

“You’re gonna be king someday. Just like me. Well…” He paused, and for the first time something sad entered his eyes. “Hopefully not just like me.” 

 A raven sitting on the balcony railing squawked, bringing him back to the moment. 

He bounced the baby up and down. “Yes, I was just getting to that, Hamuel! 

“You’ll be strong enough to take down all the bad guys! With my good looks”—He put his hand to his chin appraisingly—“and your mother’s spirit, you’ll make for a very dashing prince!” His son pulled on his beard, and Edmund laughed. 

He bounced him over to the mantle above the cozy fire, and picked up a book with an example of one such dashing hero on the cover sitting on the edge. 

 “Just like Flynn Rider!” he held up the book so the baby could see.

The prince pointed. “Goo.”

“Yes, that’s right!” Edmund kissed him emphatically on the head, then paused a moment, admiring the cover. 

“Your mother always loved these stories.” His tone shifted from jovial into something more somber. He trailed off, dragging his fingers along the cover, trying to reach something beneath the pages. “She thought he was a handsome, swashbuckling rogue. I never saw it myself; I thought he was a bit of a show off, but, eh.” He shrugged.

He dragged his fingers along the cover as if he could reach something beneath the pages, trying not to let the thing lurking behind his words make its way to the surface. He opened his mouth, intending to change the subject, yet found himself talking about her even so;

“You know what she said about you?” He looked at his son. “When you were in her tummy,” He patted his own stomach for good measure, “You once kicked her so hard you gave her a bruise! Not even born yet and you here you were, already too strong for your own good!” He laughed. “She said: ‘Edmund, he’s a fighter!’” He brandished the book as if spurring soldiers to battle. “You’re going to be a brave prince, I just know it!” 

He held up his son, nuzzling his nose. 

Their son. The last living thing left of her. 

As he trailed off that creeping thing behind his every word made its way to his eyes, and broke through the windows. He found himself standing there, tears tracking down his face, not really sure where he was, or what he was doing there. 

The baby prince cooed again, reminding him of reality. Edmund shook his head. 

“Yes Horace? ...You’re right! Let’s go eat some lunch!”  

*******

When Edmund went to check on his son he found him in a heated debate with a mirror.

 “You can do this Eugene. You can do this.” He chanted and pointed to his reflection. “It’s just a walk through the throne room—You’ve done that before. And you’ll stand in front of the girl you love—you’ve done that before too. And you’ll tell her you love her…in front of the entire kingdom. You’ve even done that before! Except, well…that time you were rejected. But you’re not”—He pointed at the mirror—“gonna get rejected this time! Nope! You just need to tell the woman you love how much you love her and want to be with her. You do that like every day already! ...I mean...right?” 

Lance and Varian couldn’t tell if he was asking them or the mirror.

“I’m not gonna say ‘I do’ and then have her go ‘I don’t’...right? Nah, she wouldn’t do that. She loves me! She was even gonna propose to me!

“Everything will be fine. No one’s like...gonna object.” He scoffed, chuckling, then his face blanched.

“Oh god.” he put his hands on his face, turning around to his compatriots, saying like they knew the whole time and should have told him, “Someone’s gonna object! I mean, someone’s gotta, right?” He said like this conclusion was inevitable. “People won’t want their princess married off to some lowlife!” He gestured to himself, 

Lance held up a finger, about to object to the idea of an objection, but he stopped to contemplate it. 

Varian stood up, “Eugene—”

Lance’s face changed to match Eugene’s, “You’re right! Someone’s gonna object!” He gasped before Varian could speak, his voice going up multiple octaves. “I mean who would want you to marry the princess?!” He put one hand on his friend's shoulder, and bit his nails with the other one. “I mean, frankly, you’re a hoodlum!”

“I know!” Eugene’s voice cracked. 

“Guys!” Varian tried to shout, almost laughing, “Everything’s going to be fine! No one’s going to object!”

“The whole wedding’s gonna be cancelled!” Eugene was gesturing with his hands now, not even looking at his friends. "We’re gonna have to get a refund on the cake, and the party, and Christmas is gonna be ruined and—!” He slid his hands down his face. 

“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, son?” Edmund stepped in.

Eugene shrieked and jumped into Lance’s arms, staring wildly around the room like he had suddenly materialized out of thin air. 

“Dad?! Whja?! Howdid?! How long have you been standing there?!”

Edmund paused in thought. “It seems like he does not want me to have been standing here long, so I will say ‘just a moment, son!’”

Eugene’s eyes lidded, as Lance let him down, the shock giving way to exasperation. “Soooo, the whole time then. Great. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“Score one for team Edmund!”

Eugene rolled his eyes.    Edmund walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You seem to be suffering from some pre-wedding jitters. Don’t worry, I had those. I thought this might happen, so I made sure to bring my trusty—” he rummaged in his pockets, ”my trusty—!” He stammered, delving into his bag in more determinedly, “Where is it?”

Hamuel circled above before landing on his Master’s shoulder, and promptly hacking the desired object up into his hands. 

“Ah, thank you for your service, Hamuel.” He said like he was a servant who had handed it to him on a pillow with a low bow. The King cleared his throat and held the unidentifiable, bird-spit-covered object up, exclaiming, “It always brings me good luck!”

Eugene stared at his father with an expression of what can only be described as stark and utter horror. Though he spoke calmly, “No, no, dad…” he waved his hand, backing up, “I’m fine. Really really fine.”

“Suit yourself.” Edmund shrugged, putting it into his pocket. 

Edmund took a look around the room—all of the boys were wearing their best suits for the occasion—then gave a small, knowing chuckle, and walked up to his son, putting his hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re going to do wonderfully son. When I was going to marry your mother I was so nervous I threw up on my best man!” 

 “…Was this supposed to be an encouraging pep talk?” 

“You’re right... There was a point to this, I know it��Ah! People don’t like it when you throw up on them! No that can’t be right…Everyone’s nervous on their wedding day! That was it! I venture to guess every man doesn’t think they deserve the woman they’re about to marry. Even I thought that, and I was a king! Speaking of which, you’re not some lowlife or hoodlum!” He clapped him hard on the back. “Did you forget that you’re a prince?!” 

“Yeeaah, it’s kinda hard to remember when I spent most of my life as an orphan thief—but, eh,” He waved with his hand, “water under the bridge.”

“You mother and I knew before you were even born you’d grow up to be a strong, handsome prince someday—Well with my looks was there any doubt?” He put his hand to his chin and grinned. “And you have your mother’s spirit too. Her tenacity, her propensity for running into trouble. She was right.” 

He put his hand on his cheek and leaned down to kiss his head. 

“Thanks, Dad." Eugene smiled.

“Anytime, Son.” Edmund smiled back.

“And you’ve found—not just a princess—but an amazing woman to share your life with!” Edmund proclaimed. 

“Yeah, well, she is pretty great.” Eugene chuckled. “Really—aside from the handsome part“—He gave the same grin—“she’s the only reason I became all those things.”

Edmund clapped him on the back. “Don’t sell yourself too short!”

His son had grown up into the dashing hero his wife had once promised he would. Sure, maybe not in the way he expected. 

But when he saw him standing at the front of the throne room, he knew it was true. It may not be his throne, but it was a throne nonetheless. And it may not be for a coronation, but he would be a prince after all. And they were going to put a golden ring, not on his head, but his hand. 

And this woman he was standing with, she was a bold, spirited hero too. It was because of her they had found each other again.

Individually, they were each the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. How astounding it was, then, how much more beautiful they were together. 

As they stood there—the dark prince, and the sun princess, in a wedding that wasn’t even arranged, both lost and found again—their light outshone the stars. 

He knew his son had found an amazing wife. He knew they would have a wonderful life together, and he hoped it would be a long one, for both of them. 

He hoped they would stand over their children’s cribs one day, telling them how they would be heroes too: how they would be big and strong. …But these two taught him there was something more important than that: that they would be selfless. Just like their parents.

[tidaldruid]

9/16/2024

Still trying to get used to this new routine of spending time outside and not making myself feel bad about missing some days.

It felt like fall for the first time this morning. It was cold in the house but by the time I went out the sun had started to warm things up. Still it smelled cold, like the wind held the memory of ice on the mountains. Maybe it was just the ocean.

The sun has finally angled south enough to hit the front windows in the morning, which is good for the chestnut in the corner and the plants I've moved to the front window in anticipation. I may have to report my coffee plant and move it there as well. I'm a bit worried that the larger elderberry in the yard will not get enough sun in the winter but I guess we'll see.

My attempts to help the stonecrop spread seem to be working, however, and the bigger kinnikinnick is also reaching its little arms along the ground, hopefully making the yard a little less hospitable to dandelions and broom. It gives me hope that some of my gardening will not have gone to waste.

It's even colder in the evening. The sun is already half down at 7:30 and the wind is almost louder than the traffic. I worry that the wind will dry up the water before it does the plants any good.

But everything seems to be doing well, or at least not worse than it was. The one elderberry has several new leaves at the base, so I'm hopeful. The crabapple is still green and the nasturtiums are growing. The front yard chestnut, miraculous survivor of being left in its shipping box for two weeks, is still growing but its leaves are a bit yellow on the edges. I might try to fertilize it a bit, maybe just add some garden soil and more mulch.

After reading up on lemongrass it seems like I may be able to overwinter it in the yard. So I plan to divide it and plant most of in the front between the stonecrop, but I'll bring at least one inside just in case.

As I walked to the chestnut tree in the back, which feels a bit like keeping vigil for the dead, I heard a cricket or frog chirp in the grass very close to my foot, the only animal life I heard so close to sunset. Except for my cat, who hates when I go into the backyard; she spent the entire time sitting in the bathroom window screaming. I'm not sure if she's mad she's not allowed out or is genuinely concerned for my safety.

Although I enjoy falling, the turn toward winter is always a little sad for me. Though i would prefer to be nocturnal, the true is that the lack of sun gets to me, and though it doesn't get very cold here, it does make me even less likely to venture out. Part of the goal of this journal is just to remind me of how much I love nature and to get me more in time with seasonal rhythms. If only my job allowed me to hibernate.

[koishua]

a conversation by the ruby river.

characters: jay, gn!faerie!reader.

synopsis: a little insight into what being friends with a river faerie is like when you're a simple, curious boy.

length: 0.725k words.

notes: this is the result of listening to a hozier playlist uhh yeah anyways so i have no idea what the rules for writing faeries are, but this is... yeah take this as is idek what i did here haha hopefully you enjoy this brief look into jay and fae reader's cute friendship. this might not even make sense but bare with me here y'all

© KOISHUA 2022, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | REBLOG! FEEDBACK!

Faintly, he hears the songs of the Forbidden Forest lulling the deers awake from their blissful slumber. The leaves rustle as the breeze blows through the sparsely spread out trees, affectionately stroking his warm skin as he treads carefully through the soft grass, mindful of the little critters crawling beneath his feet. He sees the pink clouds floating across the pale blue sky, unseeking of a particular destination. 

The early morning mist settles down by the time he excitedly arrives at a shallow creek, pulling out his sheets of paper all tied neatly down to a worn down leather no wider than the palm of his hand and as narrow as the inside of his palm, perfect to carry around in his secret endeavours in the outskirts of the small town where his house stands, facing the edges of the forest he is now located in.

Jay, carved into the leather bound notebook, is his name. 

He fishes out a wooden handle with a thin piece of metal attached to it, also rummaging through his satchel to pull out a container filled with ink in his favourite shade of blue; dark and azure, just like the eyes of the river faerie the pages of his book is filled by. 

Jay flips the pages to find an empty spot to run the tip of his pen over, already knowing just what he wants to portray. As the songbirds accompany him through each stroke that makes up your face, he waits for his muse to appear before him as always. True to habit, he hears the distinct splash from the river as red as rubies he sits before.

You are there, crouched elegantly over the boulder a little to his right, the stream of water divided into two around the large rock as it continues its journey downwards. Waving a hand at him, you chime a happy “Good morning, boy!”

His eyes train over your iridescent wings, just as mesmerized as the first time he’d seen them. “Hello, Faerie. You look quite ecstatic today. Did you finally get those spotted slippers you’ve been wanting?”

Your laugh rings delicately in his ears, a sweet little tune he adores hearing. To his delight, he hears it quite often whenever he is able to meet you on days like these. The air around you glows a faint yellow when you chuckle, meeting his question with an eager response, “No, but I have got even bigger news.”

Jay leans closer to the riverside, setting his page down with his pen. Equally, you step nearer, magically standing over the calmly running water, not at all disrupting its flow. “Look,” you point at a small insignia on your saturated skin, “I’m now old enough to cross the border. I’ll be able to visit you whenever I gather enough energy!”

“That’s great.” He finds himself hopping onto his feet with joy. “I can show you all of those things I have been telling you about then.”

You nod, dark blue eyes sparkling as though the stars in your irises are swimming in the place called space Jay has heard so much about. “Tomorrow, let’s meet by the Tree of Life, alright?”

Jay nods, pleased by the turn of events. “Understood. Then we can get you some of those pastries I brought with me two days ago and I’ll show you where I live.” 

Your brows set in a worried furrow, “Of course, I’ll have to disguise myself with your help too. I can’t be seen walking around with this hair and these wings.”

Jay, in his buzz, had forgotten about those small facts. Indeed, you’d have to hide your wings, which will be a shame, since he adores the way the light shines through the almost transparent structure. “I’ll see if I can find you some fitting clothes or something to blend you right in with us, but for that, I have to get back earlier, because the shops close soon. It’s a Sunday, so no one works much today.”

“That’s perfectly alright. You can go, I don’t mind.”

“Great, I’ll be back after my lessons tomorrow and bring you the things I could find.” He packs up his little station of items back into his satchel, careful not to smudge the ink that is still drying on the sheet. Sadly, he hadn’t gotten around with much progress on his drawing, but that could wait.

For now, he waves you goodbye and sets off to catch an open clothing shop before the sun fully rises right above his head.

permanent taglist (one). @shekllls @eternallyhyucks @yjwfav @speckled-sunshine @luvningkai @youreverydayzebra @ilandsghost @w3bqrl @candysofthours @moontines @rielleluvs @heefused @squiishymeow @just-uaau @catecita @namjoo-jay @shrutiajit @baekhyunstruly @changmin-wrlds @changminurheart @chewychubchuu @taegicarus @marknaeroni @enhacolor @heelariously @chaebb @nshitae @clarakyunisageek @aeonghaseyo @xiaosimp3 @misah0e @ily-cuz-i @jungwoniics @enha-hwajinna @todorokiskitten @bloom-bloom-pow

[meimae]

Language Learning Through Immersion: 2 Years Japanese Update

11/03/22

Two years of immersion! ʕ•̀ω•́ʔ✧

It’s still a bit unbelievable to me how much time and patience I’ve had with learning Japanese, but it should really come as no surprise that the days went by so fast, because the journey has been equally fun and rewarding. 

STATISTICS

Somehow, I beat my 1.5 year immersion mark by 7.77 hours and immersed for 742.39 hours for the past six months, averaging 4.12 hours a day, placing more focus on reading to improve my listening.

How I've divided my time in the past 6 months.

Finally added a Anki and Grammar tracker to show you that I really do put more focus on immersion rather than Anki. Arguably, I should really be spending the same amount of time with grammar, but intensive reading and looking up patterns monolingually is very much part of grammar study in itself, so I’m cutting myself a bit of slack. I promise myself to do better, don’t worry.

ANKI

Further breakdown of grammar and word memorizing in Anki. This does not include the time I spent just reading through grammar books in the first year of immersion, and the roughly 1.5 years I spent dawdling with N5-N4 grammar points in uni and after graduation. I finally realized that I really hated doing grammar in Anki and have stuck to reading them again and again instead. Who knows though, I’m always in the mood for them when I get frustrated, so I keep them around.

Reached a total of 12,213 vocabulary cards. Still using Auto Ease Factor and 10 480 1440 learning steps, the combination of which has allowed me to have decent retention and the ability to learn 50 new cards daily without drowning in reviews. It also significantly lowered the time I spend in Anki. 

I still enjoy mining everything useful I see - its going in my backlog if know it in my NL and English. The suspended cards here are words I can’t pass easily in the learning stage - there are words I can guess either the meaning or reading of in the first try, and only learning those words first lessens the burden of remembering two things per card. My brain only has to remember one thing at a time now and it is such a relief! When I finish my backlog eventually, I will return to all these suspended cards, which by that time would hopefully become words that I only need one thing to remember. It’s a pretty good strategy if I do say so myself.

Still lots to learn, but its getting pretty blue now!

Reading = Massive Language Learning Gains

Never in a billion years would I have thought that I could actually sit down and read in Japanese, and I’m very proud to have now read a total of 11,592,202 characters, mostly from visual novels which has absolutely been a gamechanger for language learning.

Surprise, surprise, reading boosted my comprehension so much that I can actually listen better. If you know the words, you are able to recognize them better when listening, therefore improving listening comprehension. I was never able to follow Youtube videos or podcasts very well before, but these days, I can put something in the background and still catch meaning (depends on content). Still have so much to improve on, but I’m very pleased with my progress.

Progression of Average Reading Speed

I also made some new graphs that covers my average reading speed from the time I started reading books in Japanese. These are so pleasing to look at and I’m glad I’ve made them, since I can easily see how far I’ve come. There are still genres I need more time with, but nothing a bit more reading and consistency can’t fix. I also still have to actually get into novels more, but I keep struggling finding something that keeps me interested for longer than an hour, which makes visual novels really 神 since I can read for 7+ hours and not feel bored.

I’ve also started to read out loud to practice good pitch pronunciation. Like generally outputting, its still very much a work in progress, but I’m glad to have started at the very least.

-☆-

I still stand by every resource I've ever listed on my blog, so if you ever need any specific app or tool or immersion material recommendation, I probably already have mentioned it, if not, feel free to ask and I'll be more than happy to help you get started!

Thanks so much for sticking around with me for the past year or so. Running this blog has been just as fun for me, and seeing people jump in on the immersion bandwagon because of my posts is pretty cool!

Here's to more language gains in the future! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

[bonktime]

Take a Breath

Ezra (Prospect) x AFAB!reader Oneshot (no use of y/n)

Masterlist

Rated: Explicit

Summary: Your ship has crashed on a planet with low oxygen. With no other options you begin a tenuous partnership with a strange prospector in need of your help fixing his pod. He’s charming but dangerous and if he finds out the whole truth about you, you’ll probably end up dead. With trouble closing in from all sides, you navigate this new connection and hope you both survive in one piece.

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence, blood and death, mentions of religion, sexual harassment (just a couple comments), me having no clue what asphyxiating is actually like, Two has a clear helmet for plot reasons, smut: unprotected PinV sex (there’s no STDs in space), cunnilingus, dom/sub elements, rough sex, size kink, choking (just a little), spitting, praise kink (this one surprised me), biting, a little dirty talk (it is Ezra) - let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Note: I was totally inspired to create this by @jura-moon​ ‘s fic Nostromo which lives in my head and without it, this never would have been written. I have used some of her story beats and ideas so absolute credit goes to her for that. This is sort of a fanfic of Nostromo in many ways 💘 I’d also like to throw thanks at @absurdthirst who reawakened my love of fics, @slater-baby who awoke something in me specifically, and especially to @danniburgh who not only deals with my damn near weekly requests for softness but who also got me to stop editing at 1am whilst drinking tequila. She did us all a favour, let’s be honest.

I hope everyone enjoys this behemoth. Don’t forget to reblog!

Wordcount: 22k

~~~~~~~~

It's not the worst planet to crash on.

The thought is so ridiculous you'd laugh if it wasn't for the blaring alarms and the screaming. Instead, you wrestle into the pilot’s seat and strap in. With the engine dead you'll have to manually time releasing the parachute. It's completely insane. Too early and the parachute burns, you crash into the ground and die. Too late and the parachute doesn't catch you, you crash into the ground and die. Provided you do survive you've at least got your suit on, oxygen tank attached, you'll be able to breath. The planet's oxygen is too low to survive for longer than two hours alone but it'll aid the tank and give you two days, three if you're careful, to get more. At least it isn't poisonous.

Thoughts all over the place you wonder where the other ship will fall. Hopefully close enough you can still make use of it. Hopefully they've got a good pilot.

You've been lucky this far, now all you can do is hope your luck holds. You break atmosphere flames blurring the view of the planet and then it's rushing to meet you. You start counting, watching it come closer, closer. You see the other ship careen away from you.

“Fuck!” Someone behind you shouts “Pull the damn lever are you trying to kill us all?!”

You ignore them, don't lose count. Ok

Three… two… one…

You close your eyes and pull.

You don't open your eyes.

No. For the first time in years. You pray.

⧫⧫⧫

Pain is the first thing you register, across your chest aches like, well, like you've just crashed a ship. The next is the smell, smoke, that can't be good, it's not entirely unpleasant though. Then the noise, someone's shouting in your ear telling you to get up, to move, they swear and leave you dangling upside down, still strapped into the pilots’ seat. Oh, that's why your chest hurts, ok, you think to yourself, you’re alive. You need to move. You need to open your eyes.

You do.

Lights are flashing, disorientating you more than your current position, blood rushing to your head. You reach up and press the release on the seat belt and drop to the floor, or maybe the ceiling, head first. Didn't think that one through you chastise yourself.  The engine is on fire, filling the hull with smoke but your legs are numb so, seizing your pack where it’s fallen beside you, you crawl to the light you think is the door and to your relief, flop outside.

No one notices you. They're all looking away, throwers out and pointed into the dead trees you sit back against the ship still reeling from the crash, too slow to realise how absolutely fucked you are. They come out the trees fast, even with spears and blades, you watch as the crew falls one by one. You can't process what you're seeing, frozen in place. Blood splatters, coming down like rain around you. Too late your body reacts and you stumble to your feet and run.

You get out of sight and then you stop, panting. Every breath aches your chest.

Something's wrong. Something you're not seeing. Right before your eyes. What is it?!

It hits you, slowly like a wave, realisation and then panic. You reach up slowly and touch your head. Gloves come away wet and dark with your blood.

Your helmet is shattered.

You aren't sure if you're crying or blood is dripping into your eyes. You suspect the blood. Feeling numb you keep moving, one foot in front of the other vaguely glancing down at the dial on your arm. After the running you'll be unconscious in at best an hour and a half, dead a little after that.

The petrified forest seems to close in around you. It’s a stillness like you’ve never experienced. Trees tower above you, skeletal branches reaching up like fingers. The limbs cast dark shadows in the bright sun, crossing over the dry brush underfoot, hiding foot falls and branches to trip on.

You walk on.

⧫⧫⧫

15 minutes left.

You decide to find a place to sit, ideally somewhere with a view but you can't me picky. A fallen tree does the job and you pull off the remainder of your helmet. Trying not to think about your imminent demise you look up. The suns are low, three of them. It twinges in your chest that you'll never go home, never see that sky again. Left to rot alone, no one who knows your traditions to perform your rites. Not that you deserve them. If you're going to put the ring back on, now would be the time. Make penance, but you don't think you can. Perhaps the hundred years wait is what you deserve.

7 minutes left.

There's someone approaching. Silhouetted against the scorching red sky, the heat rising from the ground distorting them, making you wonder if you’re hallucinating. The only clue they’re real is the crunch of the ground beneath their feet, but even that seems to echo around you.

Hope is the thing with feathers and it just flaps a wing wearily in your chest. And then stutters. The sun glints off their pistol, a beautiful sparkle that dims your hope. You do what you're good at, grab your own and shoot first. His gun flies from his hand and you smile, at least your aim is true. It falls off your face as quickly as it appears though as you feel a barrel press into your skull.

Clever buggers divided and conquered.

You drop your thrower but whoever it is doesn't lower theirs. “A little creature all alone,” a low voice drawls, “No helmet? No breath? What will we do with you?”

Staring straight at the man in front as he picks up your pistol and glares at you, you respond. “If we are going to chat, can we do it wherever your pod is? I have quite a story but I'll be dead in…” you look down at your dial, the gun increases its pressure on your skull as you try to suppress the panic “In about 5 minutes” the man remains silent, his pistol staying pressed into your skull. Your mind races, trying to find a way to argue your survival and clutches at the one thing you have. “I chose not to kill your friend when I could have done. Can you at least hear me out?”

The man behind you clicks his tongue “Ok! Well, I'm certainly intrigued and I'm sure even my partner here can't disapprove of allowing you to argue your case.” The comment seems pointed like he'll definitely disagree but even as you see his mouth twist he stays silent. “On your feet creature I'm not inclined to lug you back myself.” Standing the man lowers the thrower into your back and gently pushes you forward.

Their pod is close but you're feeling dizzier by the second and don't even think to protest when, as soon as you're in and the doors shut, the man at your back ties your hands behind you.

Focusing on him as he moves in front of you and pulls off his helmet you notice he’s favouring one arm and despite his sharp brown eyes, he looks feverish and drained. Not paying it much thought, you breathe deeply feeling sharper but it only draws your attention back to the pain in your body. Kevva you're tired. The urge to lie down and rest is near overwhelming, but the one who talks is eyeing you coldly for weakness, you’re no use if you can’t even stand.

Still, you try to get your bearings. The pod is small and rectangular, they haven’t turned the lights on and the looming shadows seem to pull in the walls, making your saviours into giants, making you feel like you’re pledging your case to The Olympians. There’s a small bench with a couple chairs next to a tiny stove and sink, there’s only one cot up against the wall, opposite what could be a cupboard but your eyes can’t make it out in the dim light.

“Now then creature, it's not every day we come across such a little thing with no air on this breathless planet and certainly not one who can shoot so damn straight!” The chuckles “I am just fascinated to know how you got into this predicament.”

You nod thinking carefully about your words. “We were a prospecting crew,” that's definitely a lie, “I'm an engineer but I know how to dig.” Well that's true at least, “Our ship fell of orbit but I managed to deploy the chutes in time so we didn't die on impact but…” you close your eyes as the images of the blood flashes before you.

“Let me guess your theatrical entrance gathered a welcoming party?”

“Something like that, I didn't realise my helmet had broken right away, I managed to run… I think everyone else is dead.” In a way you hope they are, else you really are in trouble.

The man is grinning at you, showing his teeth but the calculating gaze doesn’t falter “An engineer I'll be damned! And you can dig too? This is my lucky day. We happen to be in need of an engineer. See, our little pod has seen some better days and now it is unwilling to fly. Say, if you can fix it up and help us dig a smidgen, save us some time, we'll give you a lift out when the time comes? Quid pro quo”

An unwanted thought strikes you, settling deep in your stomach like a stone. “That sounds like a great deal but I won't be able to help you, not unless you supply me with a helmet.”

With that the other man seems to reach the end of his patience. And he moves gesturing at the talker.

“Now then, it just doesn't seem right to let such a pretty little thing suffocate on this rock... Well, I can't argue with that I suppose… I do apologise, little creature, I find myself, however unwittingly, agreeing with my partner. If you can’t help us then I can find no reasonable excuse to waste our resources on you. Looks like the deals off” he sighs “This is disappointing, I had such high hopes for our association.” With a shrug he pats your shoulder in sympathy that doesn’t meet his eyes. You shouldn't have hoped, your lucks all spent.

You take a deep breath, mind racing to find a way to survive, “Untie my hands at least, I'd appreciate some dignity as I walk to meet my maker.” You glance at your pack on the floor, you won’t need it now.

He pauses for a second, seeming to size you up before nodding and turning you around to face the door. In the reflection of the glass, you see the profile of his sharp features as he looks back, “Now then two, surely you can do the creature the quick the justice of a shot rather than a slow suffocation… Right good.” He cuts your hands loose and instantly the other man is there pressing his thrower into your back. You walk together, back into the waste.

There's only one way you're getting out of this so you close your eyes for a second and pause. He shoves you, lifting his gun to the back of your head. You take a breath and act.

Bending forwards and shoving your elbow up into his arm so the shot goes over your head, you spin knocking the gun aside and grab the small switchblade concealed in your pocket. He should have searched you. You don't hesitate as you stab him in the heart, following him to the ground and wrenching his helmet off. You close your eyes as the light leaves his.

Shaking off the nausea clamouring at you, you pull out the blade blanching as it sprays blood across you. You wipe it clean before stowing it away and then swipe a hand across your face, there’s no way to tell whether the deep red that rubs off on your hand is his or yours, or someone else’s. Feelin around in your pockets for a coin, you suppose the least you can do is pay his boatman so you place the coin under his tongue. You don’t pray. The dead don’t need it.

Ezra watches as you perform this strange ritual, he had to admit that he's captivated. Perhaps his wound has rotted so much he's delirious, finally driven mad by the toxins. Perhaps that was why he agreed to free your hands, why he didn’t check you for a blade. He considers you as he watches, so determined to stay alive.

You pull off the man's suit grateful he's small, even if it'll still swamp you, and grab his helmet. Stripping your own suit quickly you ignore the bandages on your forearm and pull his on. The fit isn't bad, it still seals around your wrists and ankles but it’s loose at your neck. You've got 12 minutes before you pass out unless you fix the hole your own knife made and get a tank of oxygen.

You look at the pod, the other man is watching you. Brown eyes piercing yours as if looking into your soul. It's him or nothing. You've got to try.

You approach the pod carrying your suit. Looking through the glass in the door and you gesture a setting for your radio, there’s a click followed by his harsh breathing.

“That was not especially kind, little creature. I certainly underestimated your ferociousness”

You shrug, “It was him or me.”

“What makes your existence so exponentially more important than his d’you think?”

You frown, “I didn't decide that it did, the powers that be choose. I did bring a knife to a gunfight” He smiles slightly and lets out a little chuckle.

Ezra watches you carefully, you look so tired, so small as you lean against the door of the pod his feverish brain seems to be attempting to soften a long-hardened heart. Still, he's not an idiot. “I'm afraid letting you in may be a detriment to my state of being, creature, you are indeed viscous and I'm not inclined to trust someone that murdered my acquaintance with so little hesitation.” He watches your eyes closed and for a second you look so hopeless but when they open, they've hardened.

“I could simply pull apart your pod from the outside, make sure you suffocate with me!” The last words come out in a shout of frustration. You bang your hand against the glass window of the door.

He glares at you, his voice low and menacing “I do not take lightly to threats, creature.”

This day’s too long, too hard, you've done too much. How many deaths? You realise that you can't kill someone for, sensibly, not letting you in. You laugh “I feel like the wolf at your door,” you sigh god your head hurts “There's no point!” you gesture, “Killing you would do nothing but damn me further I won't kill you out of spite. Fuck!” You glance and the dial on your arm,

6 minutes.

You turn away and sit, suit back against the door. It's as nice a spot as any. “I will choose to die here though I think, just as a reminder that you killed me when I fall through the next time you head out”

You chuckle at the macabre thought then turn off your radio and pull off the helmet.

3 minutes.

The final sun is setting, this really is Apollo's world and it is beautiful. The orange sky outlines the forest’s hands like an oil painting waving you off. Not a bad place to go at all.

2 minutes.

At least it's quiet.

1 minute.

Black spots are filling your vision, blurring out the beauty. Rude you think to yourself and you let out a delirious giggle.

The door behind you slides open and a strong hand grabs the back of the suite as you flop back, hauling you in, snagging the helmet and sealing the door. You don’t move, staring at the ceiling for a second breathing deeply.

Ezra drops heavily down onto the cot and watches you, you're quite something up close even covered in another's blood and your own, you're beautiful. He imagines this is what a witch would look like after a ritual, all blood and magic and secrets.

You open your eyes and peer up at him. “What changed your mind?”

He grins “Call it a reckless curiosity fuelled by this festering limb of mine.” He gestures to his arm.

It’s your turn to size him up, he seems to be looking worse by the minute and now slumped against the wall, you could probably just kill him and take what you need. Maybe you would if he hadn’t let you in. “Perhaps I can patch it up, I've got steady hands and too much experience with wounds from weapons” you struggle into a seated position with a grunt as pain flashes.

“You might as well have a gander, I'm afraid if left to my own devices I'll have to saw the thing off myself or else perish” He frowns down at his twitching fingers, “I do believe this may be my lowest point, little creature. I invite in trouble and then ask it for help? I have certainly had preferable days, for instance, when the ship I was presiding upon became infested with channel rats seems superior to today.”

You hum in reply not really paying attention as he continues to talk. Reaching for your pack, you pull out a pretty well stocked surgery kit.  “I'll numb it as best I can but it's not much”

“Anything that alleviates this agony will be a blessing little creature” You raise an eyebrow at him in acknowledgment, clearly doubting it as you hand him a tablet which he swallows. He pulls off his shirt and you examine the wound trying not to stare at his strong arms and broad chest. It’s a couple days old and badly infected, you’ll have to get out the rot before you can think of sealing it.

“Lie back” you tell him

“Perhaps in another situation your choice of language would be quite desirable” he smirks at you, not succeeding in disguising the worry in his face.

You sigh at the comment “Scream all you need but don't move”

That makes him chuckle, “You're a siren luring me in to slay me, aren't you?” His jaw clenches as you start cutting away the rotted flesh. It is slow work, carefully taking as little pink away as possible. To his credit he doesn't move a muscle and you know it must be agony. He talks the entire time, telling the tale of how he got himself shot in such a long-winded way you can’t tell the truth from the fiction. It seems to give him distraction though, so you don’t ask if he’s lying. As you close the wound with foam, he smiles at you, softer than before.

“Names Ezra, by the way.” Then he passes out.

He’s rather strange you decide, but most prospectors are. You’ve got to be a bit odd to spend your days nearly isolated on hostile planets. Asleep he looks peaceful, none of the calculating gaze or darkness. That little patch of blonde is so distinctive, you find yourself almost hypnotised by his face. Frowning at yourself you move away and sit back against the other side of the pod facing the cot.

A few things left to do with him unconscious, you pull off the stolen suit and grab the patch gun from your pack, melting it closed. You pull it back on and holster your pistol. Sitting back, you take a pill from your med kit to ease the pain in your chest and let it pull you into sleep.

Unsurprisingly, you wake before him. You check he's alive then pack your stuff together. You're even, you suppose. He saved your life. You saved his (or at least his arm) and you'd rather not stay around to find out if, when less fevered, he decides to get more even with you for killing his partner. He did give you his name though and names are powerful things so you pull out your notebook and leave a note as you grab an oxygen tank.

You glance behind you as the door seals behind you but you don’t turn back. If you head towards the ship your crew had brought down yesterday, it should have an escape pod still on it. Hopefully you can fix it up if needs be. You follow your compass East.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra wakes slowly, he hasn't slept so deeply in years, he feels comfortable if a little cold and slowly he opens his eyes. The previous day returns to him in a haze, a pretty face and bright eyes glaring through the door, a gesture to old gods, his arm…

He looks down and moves his fingers. It's good, remarkably so, still stiff and aching but whatever you’d given him seems to have hurried his healing. That stuffs expensive. Not the sort of thing a prospector would usually have and certainly not something they'd share. You were quite strange, he concludes, but fascinating. Why on earth would someone who could act so brutally for their own survival give him something so valuable? Sure, he let you in but you certainly hadn't needed to let him know you had such a thing in your possession. He supposed guilt over his partner, perhaps you were truly naïve or, bizarrely, you could have money. Which would create a more baffling question of just how you ended up here.

It doesn't occur to Ezra for a moment the other reason, until he looks around the pod to find you gone along with a portable oxygen canister leaving a bit of paper in its place. Things stolen hold less value.

The paper was clearly torn from a notebook on it, it simply said your name.

He curses pulling on his suit and following your tracks into the forest. The trail is light but visible, branches broken where you’d passed, dry brush crushed under your feet. He moves quickly, sure of his footing after spending so much time navigating the dead forest. He’s only travelled about a mile before he can hear you moving ahead.

⧫⧫⧫

You walk through the trees, one sun shining above you warming your bones. As you check your direction you pause. A twig snaps and you freeze listening carefully. There's another noise behind you and you spin tensing. You can't see anything or anyone as you peer around you, the forest is too dense.

A body crashes into you from behind flinging you into the ground, looping something around your neck. Your head ricochets off the inside of your helmet shaking your brain, opening the cut again but not breaking the glass. You try to lurch up but get nowhere so you roll into your back with them now beneath you but the cord around your neck holds you back. Choking, you catch your fingers in it so you can breathe and pull forwards, hard, rolling again and thrusting your helmet back into theirs, loosening their grip enough so you can pull the cord away, only for them to shove you head down into the ground.

The world is swimming now, wobbling around you as you try to get your body to listen to you. To get away. To fight back. Anything! But their weight on your back prevents you from moving. You try to look out of the corner of your eye to see your opponent but get nothing. It surprises you when a tear tracks down your face. You suppose you have been putting off the inevitable for days now, Kevva has called you back.

Whoever it is clicks on your radio and a familiar voice hisses, “You stupid fucking cunt, I'm bringing you to hell with-“ A shot rings out and the body slumps on top of you, you lift yourself up and shove it off sitting up on your haunches looking around for the shooter.

It's him, Ezra, gun still trained on you. He watches you halt, eyes wide.

“You took something of mine, and although usually I don't go out of my way to find trouble, which you little creature certainly are. I awoke to find myself abandoned and a little peeved to discover that you had liberated a couple of my possessions and shimmied out of part of our prior agreement.”

Your heads still spinning and with the blood trickling into your eye you find it immensely difficult to focus on what he is saying. “Prior agreement?”

“Yes indeed. You'll find you had affirmed in exchange for breath you would fix up my little ship so when the time comes, I may leave this barely liveable planet. I do not appreciate reneging”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“On your feet creature,” he approaches, “I find myself growing impatient.” You stand and instantly stumble forward. He grabs onto your shoulder steadying you, his other hand darting out before you can relax and snagging your thrower from its holster. “I underestimated you once, I will not again. Now, your assailant seemed to know you, if I'm not mistaken, by the way they deemed to remark upon you. Pray tell me the tale?”

Looking at him you do feel a lot like prey. He's close, grip still firm on your shoulder and towering over you. A grin showing all his teeth like a wolf, all you would need is a red cloak and you’re dinner.

You glance down at the body and clench your jaw, it was Cora. Formally, a member of your crew, she had always distrusted you. Rightfully so, you think to yourself.

Steadying yourself you shrug off Ezra's grip, ignoring the gun still aimed at you and kneel down to pull off her helmet. Taking a coin from your pocket you place it under her tongue and look back up at him, the helmet still in your grasp. He's watching you curiously, seeming to be rolling words around in his mouth as if completely thrown by your behaviour.

“She was part of my crew, I was the engineer so the crash was my fault,” well that was definitely true.

Ezra chuckles darkly, “I'm not too sure I want you to repair my ship after all, creature. Your predilection for incident does appear wearisome.”

You tilt your head up at him, “See any other engineers around here?”

“I suppose you'll have to do, but I will be watching you mighty closely little bird, in case you decide to take flight again.” You frown at the new nickname but don't get a chance to argue as you both hear a horn a little way off. “Unfortunately, my shot appears to have alerted the ever-irritable locals to our location.” He grabs your arms and hauls you back to your feet pulling you along with him as he walks back the way you had come, Cora’s helmet still clasped in your hand. “Luckily the settlers are not quick on their feet, I must say.”

You can't think of a response, your head is still reeling and your feet feel like lead as you trudge after him, his hand gripping firmly onto your wrist.

You're grateful you hadn't travelled far when he tugs you into the pod. Closing the door and turning, Ezra finds you slumping down to sit on the floor ripping off your helmet and attempting to wipe the blood out of your eye. It feels a little voyeuristic as he watches you tug off the suit soaked with his partner's blood, revealing the black insulating vest and leggings beneath before flopping back eyes closed for a moment. You feel his stare and pointedly ignore it as you grab your own suit, abandoned the day before, and shimmy into it. Cora had the same suit and so her helmet will fit yours. You feel a little relief at no longer having to wear the blood of someone you'd killed, not to mention more secure in something that fits.

Glancing up at Ezra as you transfer your possessions between pockets yet again you see he's elected to tie his suit up around his waist revealing those damn arms again. He crouches down in front of you and gently grasps your chin to tilt your head up at him. “That's quite the cut you've got there little bird.”

He carefully watches your face but your head is still fuzzy so with no retort he moves away from you and picks up your med kit. He cleans your wound gently, wiping the dried blood off your face. As he does, you study him. Close up you can see the wrinkles around his eyes from when he smiles and the curved scar on his cheek. Fighting off the impulse to trace your fingers over it, you ask how he got it. He grins as he places a plaster on your head “Now that’s quite a story” but you don’t get to hear it yet, sounds outside means the settlers have found the pod.

“They'll leave provided they don't know we're here” He grumbles, tugging you into the cupboard running along the wall.

It’s slim but long inside, there are blankets on the floor, a lantern and a small stack of tattered books. “Do you sleep in a cupboard?” you have to ask but you do your best to keep the incredulity out of your tone.

“I'd rather you didn't insult my little burrow as a guest, there's only one cot in this pod and I lost the wager so I made do. I think you’ll find it’s rather cosy”

You nod, a little thrown by his change in attitude since being in the forest. As you both sit you watch his face in the golden light of the lamp. It makes him appear to glow, almost like a painting. He'd look almost relaxed if it wasn't for how his eyes were watching you carefully.

Ezra studies your features, if you hadn't been such a bringer of chaos, he'd think he'd made you up, that, or Kevva had reached into his head and plucked you out. You're just perfect, perhaps anything his own mind could come up with would have to come with chaos, there was no fun without it.

The quiet moment is disrupted by a bang on the side of the pod, you jump and Ezra tenses slightly but seems to be expecting it. “They're trying to frighten out anyone inside” he whispers, “If we stay quiet and hidden, we'll be just fine”

You nod and tilt your head back against the wall trying to block out the noise as Ezra reaches for the book at the top of his stack. You read the title ‘Perfume’, you haven't heard of it but judging by the battered pages and writing in the margins Ezra knows it intimately. He glances at you. “It is a tale of a man who gets so enraptured with the scent of a woman he endeavours to turn her essence into perfume.”

You hum in response “That sounds a little morbid.”

Reaching into your bag you pull out a similarly dog-eared copy of ‘The Power’ and do your best to ignore the man opposite you.

Ezra frowns at his book. It's not often a good read fails to pull him into its world but something about your presence has driven him to distraction. Instead, he closes the book and continues to study you, it's a nice change having a stranger in such close quarters. You're frowning at your book a little furrow in your brow he finds endearing. It's only then he notices you're shaking. He wonders if it's from the death of your friend, from the settlers’ insistent pounding on the side of the pod or from him. He supposes it's quite scary to be trapped in a small space with someone twice your size and he hasn't exactly been kind to you. Ezra frowns to himself, not that you've given him a reason to act kindly. You will be useful to each other but there's no point making friends on such rough terms.

You look up meeting his eye as he glowers at you and swiftly glance away, trying to take up as little space as possible.

“You said you came to prospect?” he murmurs to you. You look back at him, wide eyed, and nod. “Good, you can help me finish me dig, 60/40 split, since you so callously divested me of my partner.”

You nod “You ridded me of mine too. Looks like we're even again. Equal split.” He’s tempted to laugh at your boldness, negotiating with no leverage. He keeps his face stern, unwilling to let you know how much he is enjoying your spark.

“I don't think so.” he speaks lowly making you tense, “I will permit that without you my arm would be about as useful as stim gum is at staving off hunger. And at least to me my arm is equal to a partner.” He tilts his head at you, the light cutting plains across his skin, “Even so… we still aren't even. That’s twice I saved your troublesome arse. One could suggest you’re indebted to me.”

To his surprise you nod, even as your jaw clenches and he watches you swallow “I guess I'll have to make it up to you another way. Even split or I don’t dig” That breaks him, he can’t hold in his grin at your fearlessness. He strongly suspects you’ve had an abundance of practice getting what you're owed from characters more unscrupulous than himself. He frowns at that, even hardened prospectors treat him warily, there must be something else to you. He agrees though, more out of curiosity than necessity.

“Even split it is then.”

⧫⧫⧫

You both agree there's no point going out to dig with the settlers so close but after the noise has subsided Ezra looks you over and suggests you shower. You don't tell him what a gift that is but he sees how your eyes light up at the prospect of washing off the past days’ grime. He hands you a towel and as the water starts running, he distracts himself from picturing you naked by satisfying some of his inquisitiveness and going through your pack.

There's not much of interest. Your med kit, some protein bars, instant caf, ammunition but in the front pocket he finds an old ring. Round like a signet but instead of a family emblem it is simply a small coin, plated in gold. He studies it, it's roughly hewn, well-made but not particularly fine. He wonders if you stole this too, but it isn't flashy and everything else you've taken had been useful so he posits it is yours, but why don't you wear it? Frowning he puts it back as he spots a notebook, worn and well-loved but as he reaches for it the water shuts off and he leaves your pack, choosing to get nourishment for you both before you sleep.

You emerge dressed just in your leggings and vest, Ezra gestures to the seat noticing the bandage on your arm. “What did you do that your mystical little tablets cannot heal?”

You finger the material absentmindedly, “Oh it's an old wound I keep reopening, better to keep it covered to prevent infection.”

He peers at you clearly unconvinced but he doesn’t question you further, you avoid his eyes looking at the floor as he sticks some food in front of you. “Eat up little creature, we've hard work to do tomorrow and we'll need our energy.”

You take a mouthful before asking, “Where will we sleep?”

“Better we stay out of sight in case our hospitable friends return, so back into the burrow. And I'd rather keep you close in case you start to feel flighty again” You sigh but to his surprise don't argue, perhaps the settlers really did shake you.

Ezra returns to studying you as you both eat, without your suit on he can see the harsh bruises around your neck where your former friend had tried to strangle you but the gash through your eyebrow has stopped bleeding and fresh from the shower, you're quite the vision. It has been so long since he'd had another body to warm his bed and you look so soft and vulnerable without the suit and imminent danger, he finds himself picturing you under him, writhing, brow furrowed like before. His hands grabbing your arms, your hips, your neck- He shakes himself of the image. Your partnership is tenuous at best without bringing in the pleasures of the flesh and he doesn't really want to scare you off potentially leaving him alone and trapped on this world.

When you've eaten you head into Ezra's ‘burrow’ as he called it and settle opposite each other, legs stretched out in front, feet almost touching. Ezra is next to the door ensuring you can't leave without waking him but you're not inclined to try, you know your luck is running out. You're grateful he doesn't try to scare you into staying, instead curiously he picks up his book and looks at you. 

“I propose an exchange, it appears we are both almost prepared to recite our beloved tomes cover to cover, so, would you acquiesce your book for mine?”

You shrug, “I wouldn't mind something new but I'm not sure how much you'd enjoy ‘The Power’ and I have nothing else.”

He smiles his eyes crinkling with amusement, “Well then, read me the blurb and let me decide for myself. It seems only I would know what I may delight in.”

“It's about how women become the dominant gender in the world, told by a man in the future where a male dominated society seems absurd.”

Ezra grins, “I am intrigued! It'll be a joy to discuss books with another person, a pleasure I can rarely partake in”

You smile back as you swap books. A tentative exchange that leaves you both a little hopeful for the progress of your partnership.

You both read in silence until you yawn twice in a row causing Ezra to yawn too and he suggests you turn in. Or you guess he does, his choice of language seems to baffle you here and there. He wrangles a blanket out from under you and you settle in, top to tail, his feet level with your chest and yours to below his hip. You didn't realise how the adrenaline of the day had worn you out and you're asleep in seconds. 

You awake on your front, head nestled into your arm. It's pitch black and there's a weight on your ankle. Trying not to panic you wait for your eyes to adjust and peer over your shoulder to see what's grabbed you. It's Ezra.

Asleep on his back one hand on his stomach where the blankets had been shoved down and his under shirt had risen revealing a strip of tan skin glowing in the low light. You try not to focus on that. His other hand, by his side wrapping nearly all the way around your ankle. You wonder if he grabbed you awake to stop you trying to escape or if unconscious, he simply wanted to keep your warm body close, that idea makes you feel a little soft, this is easily the gentlest he's touched you apart from patching your head. You debate if you should shake him off but you don't want to wake him and his warm hand is anchoring so you just put your head back down on your arms and go back to sleep.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra had his sleeping pattern nailed down, a necessary thing for a prospector, usually out cold for 7 hours so he's surprised when he startles awake. He doesn't usually dream. He grasps at the threads of images his mind had conjured committing them to memory. It was about you and it was enough to make him flush and now as he rouses himself, he gently detaches his hand from your ankle unsure about when he grabbed it. It's still early, he looks over you asleep on your stomach breathing slowly. He sighs adjusting himself in his pants if he can't get these images of his head, he's going to have an even more difficult time working with you than he already will. Desire is fickle like that he supposes, giving him a beautiful creature, he can't trust. One who is clearly concealing something and who certainly doesn't desire him in return. A beep tells him the suns are rising and you begin to stir

“Arise little bird, a day off struggle and fortune lays in wait.”

You grumble in return shuffling onto your back and sitting. Ezra tries not to stare as the blanket slips away revealing your body. To avoid further thoughts, he leaves his burrow taking his suit, subtly clutching it to his front so as not to alert you to his predicament, and heads for the shower to sort himself out, eternally grateful that the pod had connected to an underground lake making the water supply essentially infinite. Hopefully a brisk wash will clear his head and body of the lust.

You flop back and sigh. That damn blonde tuft and those sharp features were following you even into sleep. It had been far too long since you'd enjoyed another person and if it wasn't for the dilemma you were in, Ezra would be an easy yes. Broad and handsome and charming in a way that just spelled trouble, but your uneasy alliance, and your lies, and the fact that he could easily kill you make you especially wary of being vulnerable in the way you truly crave. Instead, you shake yourself, grab your pack, dig around for that terrible instant caf and leave the cupboard.

Ezra's shower was doing nothing for his erection. Feeling a little exasperated he grasps it harshly and tries not to picture you so vivid in his dream moaning around him. The water raining down on him acts as a lubricant as he harshly begins pumping his hand not wanting to take his time and fall into a fantasy of you. It doesn't work, he imagines how soft your hands would be, how wet you'd be, how he'd take you here up against the tiles. It's quick and dirty. He grunts, swears, then cums, the water washing the sin away leaving him panting and if anything, more frustrated than before.

You hear Ezra swear in the shower and wonder vaguely if he dropped something as you grab two mugs and start heating water for caf. The shower shuts off and you look round as he emerges with a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes are dark and he looks furious so you turn away and try not to think about how the water droplets on his broad shoulders shimmer as he disappears back into the cupboard.

Seeing you there, making you both caf, dressed in your underclothes sparked a craving of domesticity within Ezra. For the briefest moment you weren't a reluctant partner on a hostile planet, instead you were a lover he could wrap his arms around from behind as you giggle and try to get breakfast and it aches.

When Ezra re-emerges, dressed with his hair sticking in all directions, you've put his caf on the small bench and are sitting waiting for him. He sits too and picks it up.

“There's only a couple months left in the dig” he says, “You up to it? I will be displeased if you slow us down”

You glare, so this is what he's worried about, “Don't worry I've had plenty of practice. If anything, I'd worry about your arm!”

He grins at you “No need to fret little creature, I managed to do my job with a hole in it and with your miraculous medication, it is only a little unyielding.” He carefully looks over your face, “Speaking of, I would appreciate you being candid in not only the precise location you acquired such a potion but why in Kevva you deigned see fit to give it to me?”

He watches you chew on your words, “I relieved them from a man who sought to take from me, and I gave them to you to even my debt. You saved my life if I didn't give you one, I wouldn't have been able to save your arm.”

What a strange little thing, he thinks, so worried about balance, “Did you happen to also relieve this man of his life?” You stare into your cup and don't answer “Well if he sought to take from you, I'll assume it was just.”

You sit in silence as Ezra smoothly changes the subject and grabs a bar for you, spinning quite the tale as you eat. Not stopping for breath as you pull on your suits, boots and helmets, only pointing you towards the equipment you need to grab before opening the door and leading you back into waste.

Ezra hadn't given you back your thrower which you supposed was fair although he had left you your blade which you're sure he remembered you carried. Perhaps a little act of faith to gain your trust? It didn't hurt. 

As you approach the site Ezra looks back at you, “Stay close little creature we wouldn't want you to get lost.” His voice is low and threatening and sends a shiver down your spine that isn't entirely fear. You nod slowly and he grins, wolf-like just as before, as if outside you the pod he is an entirely different beast to reckon with. 

“I'll get in the pit and do the heavy lifting, you can treat and polish on the surface, we'll go for as long as we've got light and head back. It's gonna be a long day little bird”

The dig comes as a relief, the repetitive labour clears your head and Ezra seems to be filled to the brim with stories and anecdotes, although, you don't think you're actually learning much about him. The way he talks is open yet totally guarded, as if he has the compulsion to speak but the sense not to trust you. You aren't offended, it's not like you're exactly opening up to him either. The day passes quickly like this and as the sun dips too low to see well Ezra hauls himself out of the pit, tells you to pack up and you both head back to the pod to eat and sleep. You wake with his hand around your ankle again.

⧫⧫⧫

A couple of days in, the suns seem to be burning even hotter than before. The dig is gruelling and you’re grateful Ezra so far, hadn’t let you into the pit. You aren’t sure you could bear it in this heat. By the time you finish and return to the pod, taking off your helmet is a relief. You feel hot and sticky and bone tired so you plop yourself down into the cot in the main room still in your suit. Ezra chuckles, “You must be out of practice, else you'd still find these long days easy.”

Ah, so he is bringing it up. You raise your head to look at him, “I still kept up with you, didn't I?”

“True, true, although I am not functioning at full capacity at the present time.” He gestures to his arm.

You flop back and gaze at the ceiling, “Or I just survived a crash from space a few days ago and I'm still a bit worn out.”

That makes him laugh. It's a big warm noise, that makes you giggle too at the absurdity of it all. 

“Are you confident you wish to slumber there?”

“Why? You afraid I'm going to make another break for it?”

His grin is just a little softer now, “A little. But if I were you, I'd be more concerned about the neighbours might pop by.”

“Shit, alright” you sit up and instantly yawn.

“Let's get some food in you and turn in, little bird. If I'm not careful I'll have to carry you into my burrow.”

Smiling back, you mock him a little, “With your arm? I'm not sure you'd be capable.”

At that he grins and you realise you've given him a challenge he won't back down from. Stalking up to you like a cat he seizes you under the arms and hauls you against his chest making you huff and giggle as you try to wriggle free. He carries you across the pod like you weigh nothing and plonks you down on the little work bench. Hovering too close for just a moment too long, his breath ghosting your cheek.

“Now how about you keep your smart comments to yourself, lest I have to keep proving you wrong?” he smiles at you, letting you see the crow’s feet by his eyes. 

“I'll admit defeat this time I suppose, but you really should go easy on that arm!”

Ezra turns away from you, his heart pounding a little and reluctant to leave your embrace. Instead, he ignores the feeling urging him to clasp you close and grabs your food. As you slide off the bench and into a seat, he hands you a bowl. Neither of you attempt to meet the other's eye and both of you fail to see the flushed face of your companion.

Once again sleep comes easy, the hard work making your body crave rest to heal but even so in the dark you wake. There's no rush of panic this time instead you feel warm and sleepy as you glance at Ezra at the other end of the cupboard. He's not grasping your ankle instead his side is pressed against yours, leg to leg. It's cosy and in your half-awake state you don't think about how you had gone to sleep separated, and who had sought out whom in the black.

The next day goes much the same, you bicker before you head out deciding who should be in the pit and who shouldn't. Ezra concedes that he'll do the treating of the gems today if you keep alternating so neither of you gets too worn out. You agree though you point out yet again that he needs to go easy on his arm and he points out your bruises and gash on the head as hypocrisy. It's an argument with no malice and it feels refreshing to have a go at someone without worrying they'll get angry and shoot you. Although perhaps you should be more concerned by how at ease you are. If he was to see the scar on your arm, you doubt he'd be so understanding. 

As the day ends Ezra offers you his hand to pull you out of the pit, his touch lingering in yours for just a second too long.

⧫⧫⧫

Working like this you form a sort of routine. Up early, dig till you can't see, talk, eat, sleep, press together in the night. Ezra is starting to reveal little details about himself, where he was born, how he got into prospecting, his favourite books. In a way it makes you feel guilty for staying guarded, only relinquishing the barest details about yourself, but if he notices he doesn't point it out. 

A month passes like this and as you watch Ezra hop into the pit you wonder vaguely if he'll ever run out of things to talk about. He describes an incident where an amateur prospector managed to get his arm stuck in the pit resulting in its brutal amputation but your attention fails as you wait for the next potential gem and you look into the trees behind you. 

An uneasy feeling claws at you so trusting your gut you tell Ezra to shut up and get down out of sight just as someone emerges. No one you recognise, thank Kevva, and not a settler either. They are carrying a rifle though. Bowing your head to your work so they can't see your mouth move, you quickly describe what's happening.

“I can only see one, he's armed. A prospector. You stay quiet unless I shout.”

“Right then birdie. I await your call.”

You look up at the man staying on your knees and gesture your radio setting.

“What's someone like you doing out here all alone?” You repress a shudder at his tone.

“Same as you, I expect, making my way in the universe.” He comes closer and you fight the urge to back away but you don't want to draw attention to Ezra. “I don't have much to offer you and I don't take kindly to thieves.”

“Big talk from someone unarmed.” Wishing Ezra had given back your thrower, you stand and decide an attempt to bargain will be the best option.

“What do you want then, we can trade.”

“I'm not looking to trade anymore, I'm stuck here. My team's dead.” He levels his gun at you. “If you take me to your ship, I'll let you live for a price. Protest too much and I'll shoot and have my way while you bleed out.”

You gulp and stand starting to back away. Even with the element of surprise Ezra will have to act quick and be lucky if you both want to live. Why would he though, he doesn't have much motivation to risk his life for yours, he'll just have to hitch another ride. The man keeps moving towards you as you reach the edge of the pit, eyes not leaving your face and presses the gun to your chest. You glance down for a moment, hoping he doesn't look too, and see wide brown eyes and a miniscule nod. 

At the same moment Ezra reaches up, you drop back into the pit and land heavily on your back, winded. He slices across your assailants achilles tendon and grabs onto his leg pulling him in after you. Frozen in place, you watch the tussle, for the first time properly witnessing how formidable of a foe Ezra can be. His size and strength easily overpower the other man as he rolls on top, throwing down heavy blows that fill the air with the soft thuds of impact, like a heartbeat. A yell is cut off with a gurgle as Ezra shoves his blade into the man’s neck repeatedly, using his weight to hold the man down until he stills.

There's a moment before he turns, he lowers his head trying hard to calm his harsh breathing and sighs. “I do apologise little bird,” he turns to you scowl in place, eyes dark. “For my brutality, I'd rather you didn't have to bear witness.”

His voice is low and he's watching you carefully as you sit up. You feel lost for words at how far he'd gone to defend you, you wonder how close he got to becoming the man dead in front of you. Alone and cruel. All you can do is nod in response.

Ezra curses himself at how quiet you've become. Moving the body out of the pit had taken time and once done, as he watched you place a coin in his mouth, he'd announced that to continue the dig today would be futile with adrenaline running so high and at your nod you had gathered the equipment and headed back to the pod. He watches you carefully as you pull off your suit and decides that the fact you didn't just sprint for the trees after what he did was a good sign. But you continue to surprise him.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “For not letting him…”

“Nonsense, without the pleasure of your company I don't doubt my humanity would soon become as weathered as his own.” He frowns, “It was rather like being visited by the ghost of Christmas yet to come.” You tilt your head not really sure what that means but he shrugs. “Don't fret about it.”

Then there's silence as you watch each other. Lost in thought as you make your meal and eat.

Ezra ponders on the panic he felt deep in his chest at the waver in your voice. He wonders when saving you switched from utilitarian need to something more. He knows how stupid it is to get attached, how reckless. But your bright eyes and determination to stay alive were admirable and captivating and he craves to know more, what makes you laugh, how well you'd take him. He sighs and attempts to brush the lust aside. Even if you weren't terrified of him, he just knew you were concealing something.

The silence stretches out, both unwilling to break it, as you head into the burrow. For the first time, you sleep next to each other. 

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra is wrapped around you when you wake, safe and warm and comforting. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, its steady rhythm relaxing you before your brain starts whirring. Then you feel guilty, like you're taking advantage of him. He doesn't realise how much you enjoy him holding you close and you certainly don't deserve it. The weight of your lies heavy on your shoulders you ease out of his arms, careful not to wake him, and leave the sanctuary of the burrow. 

A wonderful dream slips away from him as he stirs. His little bird's weight in his arms, grounding him, giving him something to protect. Looking round for you and finding you gone, he swears and stumbles to his feet. Kevva, he hoped you hadn't left him alone.

He almost sighs with relief when he leaves his burrow just to spot you sitting by the window watching the suns rise, notebook in hand and mug beside you. You look up, a little wary of his wide eyes but shrug. “I couldn't sleep.”

“Me neither little creature, my dreams are haunted.” He picks up your mug and takes a sip, with a grimace he says “Can you truly enjoy something so acrimonious?”

You chuckle, “Habit I guess.”

“Well, it's certainly rousing” he smiles at you “What are you scribbling there?”

“I had a look round the ship, it's all the repairs I need to do.” You hesitate, “If we swing by the other crashed ship for a couple parts, we can be gone in two days.”

Ezra's eyes darken just a little, his voice low, “You wouldn't be trying to wiggle out of our agreement now? The dig isn't done and I demand satisfaction.”

He watches your mouth twist, “It's just I think our luck's run, the longer we stay the more trouble we're going to get like yesterday.”

“That cannot be helped, little creature. I'd like to live well for a while, and so, the dig must be completed.” You think to that other ship, there's immeasurable wealth on it but you can't tell him. Then he'd know what you were. So instead, you nod and start preparing for the day.

The change in your attitude has Ezra feeling nervous. He realises if he doesn't show a little faith, you won't feel safe and he'll lose you, and possibly himself. Just before opening the door to the waste, he turns to you, “Here.”

He's holding your pistol out to you, frowning slightly, you peer up at him “What?”

“If something like yesterday happens again I'd rather you be able to look after yourself,” you nod and reach for it but he keeps it in his grip for a moment, “Don't get any ideas” his voice is low and dangerous eyes hard on you. You swallow and nod shoving it into your holster.

To your relief the dig is quiet and Ezra has returned to chatting away to you from his perch outside the pit and eventually you're able to chat back making him laugh as the day passes.

There's a change between you, him trusting you to be armed has given you a chance to breathe, but, with that a new tension has come between you. One you're trying very hard to ignore. It’s crawled into your head and planted thoughts of closeness, of more, that you can ignore during the day but not at night.

After that day you'd formed a new routine. Going to sleep next to Ezra and waking up feeling secure in his arms before the guilt hits and you leave before he wakes. Not letting him know the comfort you've found there. 

⧫⧫⧫

Apart from the locals coming to bang on your walls every few days, weeks pass incident free as you both perform this dance around each other. Ezra finds that his cold showers are doing less and less to quell his lust, and heart is another matter entirely. So, he ignores it, treats you a little coolly, tries not to scare you off, it's getting more difficult now nearly every night he dreams of you. Sometimes it's lewd, sometimes you're chatting together, the worst are when he dreams he's just holding you. He might think it was real if not for how when he wakes up you aren't there.

Until the morning he wakes first. 

He's groggy, breathing deeply and so, so comfortable. It takes a moment to get his bearings. Shifting slightly, he realises how he's curled around you, hand on the strip of skin of your stomach where your shirt has rolled up, face pressing into the back of your neck and he has to fight the urge to kiss it. When you moan quietly, he props himself up on his arm looking down at you in the low light. For a moment he thinks you're having a nightmare but you flushed, breathing shallowly and he's certain you aren't. When you whimper, he shudders, such a pretty noise. He feels tempted to stay pressed against you, to touch you, to make you make more of those noises. He fights it off, and eases away from you stepping out of the warmth of his burrow. 

He thinks, perhaps later he can talk to you, there's nothing wrong with getting some pleasure and easing some stress in each other’s arms. There isn't long left of the dig and then you'll go your separate ways, the thought stings a little. He leans back against the door. Kevva, he craves more, he wants to learn every inch of you intimately, to learn what makes you tick, to wake up with you in his arms. It aches deep in his chest, so many years spent in poor company. He hears you moan once more and groans himself, pushing off the door he trudges to the shower.

For the first time in ages, he runs it hot before stepping in and grasping his cock. He lets himself take his time, starting slow, increasing the pace till he feels like he could explode then slowing right back down again. He doesn't fight off the images of you that spring into his head now he knows what you can sound like. He imagines you making them with his tongue on you, fingers buried in you as he presses you down, how you'd whine his name, how you'd beg. Ezra grunts, staving off his orgasm once more his cock red and throbbing with his heartbeat. He pictures sinking into you, hot and wet with you pliable in his arms as he fucks you into the ground. He cums hard with a growl and a curse and then curses himself both for being loud and for allowing himself to yearn for you, then finally he begins to wash.

⧫⧫⧫

You wake with a start, panting. Your dream is vivid in your mind. Ezra grasping your hands so you couldn't move as he fucked you with his tongue moaning against you. He'd talked too, both eloquent and totally filthy as he got you exactly where he wanted you. You huff, now you were left frustrated and still pining for a man who must just see you as a utility, a way to get off this planet. Hell, he barely even knew anything about you, didn't know the most important thing. But you know you can't stay in this limbo for long now, the digs nearly done and after then what can you do. There are two options, tell him who you are and how you feel and hope for the best or just ignore it, get off the planet, take your money, and go live the quiet life you'd intended. You focus on this debate and instead of the wetness between your legs as you leave the cupboard.

You look around for Ezra and exhale as you hear the shower running, there's no way for him to know what you were dreaming of, right?

That's when you hear him, it's a low, erotic groan followed by a string of swear words and you flush as you became achingly aware of how wound tight you are. You turn away and try to ignore it, heating up water for both of your cafs as the shower stops. 

As it brews the steel door swings open and Ezra emerges wrapped in a towel and glowering, you ignore his stare and the way droplets of water slide down his chest making you want to lick him as you hand him a mug. 

Ezra watches you gnaw on your lip as you look him over and can't hold in the grin at how frustrated you seem. He can't help but tease. 

“Did you have pleasant dreams little bird? You seemed unwilling to rise this delightful morning.”

His grin widens with your eyes as you look away “Err I don't remember… did you sleep ok?”

“Like I was in the welcoming arms of a lover” He doesn't miss your little inhale of breath, and he wonders how best to broach the topic of mutual pleasure with you. Perhaps it'll quell the urge to keep you safe in his arms.

The way Ezra is teasing you makes you think perhaps he can read your mind. As he goes to dress you make a decision, after the dig you'll explain how you really got here, explain how you don't want to leave him after the dig is done. And hopefully he'll be worn out enough that, should he decide you're too much of a liability, you can out run him.

As you head out an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, you tell Ezra as much but he just chuckles, “Perhaps you're still tired”

The morning goes smoothly, you're in the pit this time handing stuff out every so often to Ezra, his fingers brushing yours. Both of you work quickly, you puff, out of breath, as you stretch yourself up for yet another hand off. His ability to talk is once again surprising you. You laugh at his story despite the unease and the beat of the sun in your back and miss the delighted expression that crosses Ezra's face from your position in the pit.

Like a light switching, the energy shifts. You know there's trouble before Ezra mumbles through the comm “Little bird, stay down. Company approaches.”

Your blood runs cold when a voice responds, already on your frequency, a voice you know. “Greetings friend, we think you can help us out.”

Ezra eyes the pair in front of him, knowing you’d been made was adding a layer of worry to a tense situation, “I'll help if I can but, you're encroaching on my little territory you know how it is. I will be obliged to defend it”

You hear the pair step closer “Actually we're looking for someone,” your eyes slip closed as you stay stock-still, “See they greatly are responsible for our predicament. However,” the voice is clear like they already know you're here, crap, how long did they listen in? “If they were to help us find something we've lost. I can assure their punishment is… swift.”

You swallow as they step to the edge of the pit, Damon glares down at you “Hello darling, long time no see”

Ezra looks shockingly calm, still smiling as you glance at him, “Now then, that is not a polite way to address my partner.”

The other man scoffs, second in command Barlow, “Your partner? Back to your old ways I see.” He looks Ezra up and down. “You’re their type”

You think perhaps you see Ezra's jaw clench before he's grinning “It hardly seems fair for you to make off with my partner, does it? No, not without compensation which unless my ears deceive me, you can't give me without them.”

Before you can blink guns are drawn and you feel like a fish in a barrel, stuck in the pit without Ezra to pull you out.

“You don't know who we are, do you? I suppose in the suits you can't tell but I'd have thought with your… intimate relationship to our engineer you might have figured it out.”

Ezra’s gun doesn't waver for a second but his mind reels. The bandage on your arm, it couldn't be. Surely, he hadn't been so blinded by your company not to notice that. His eyes darken and he thinks, for a moment this man, Damon, realises he's going to die the split second before Ezra shoots.

Barlow’s slower, surprised at him for making the first move but despite his fumble this was a real stand-off. He meets Ezra's glare and they're frozen in time for a moment. Just as he watches the man start to squeeze the trigger and prepare to shoot, he flops sideways. Ezra swings his thrower round you see you, gun in one hand, body turned to the side, still poised from the shot neither of them had seen coming.

Ezra looks as surprised as you feel, even taking aim you hadn't been sure you should save him. But, in the second the men had forgotten about you, you'd let instinct take over and your instinct had chosen Ezra. You hoped it was correct.

Perhaps not. You watch as Ezra’s face darkens, his teeth bared as he levels his pistol at you. “Little bird” his voice makes you shiver despite the heat, “Be so kind as you toss your shooter up here. I think we will be having words.”

You can only nod, what can you do? He says he wants to talk so you'll talk, out of the pit. Where you can stand your ground. You swallow and throw your gun up to him. He gives you a curt nod picking it up and turning away. For a terrifying moment you think he's going to leave you here to die slowly but before you can beg him not to, he returns and tosses a pack down.

“Pack up your gear. We're leaving.” His tone leaves no room for argument so you pack away his equipment as quickly as you can and put it on as you wait and listen to him packing his own, wondering if the shots will draw more trouble.

After all the time spent getting used to his talking, his silence is terrifying. It allows you to think, to panic, to imagine the worst thing he can do. Probably leave you on this planet to rot or be torn to pieces by the locals. You squeeze your eyes shut at the thought.

“Come on now, your elevator awaits” You open them to see he's offering his hand down for you to grab. You do your best to ignore the pistol in the other as you grab a hold and scramble out of the hole you had been sure was going to become your grave. Ezra doesn't loosen his grip on your arm as he hauls you to your feet and strides away from the dig forcing you to trot behind him to keep up.

You stare up at him as he pulls you along trying to read his thoughts. He doesn't look at you scowling straight ahead, his grip vice like and bruising. You don't try to shake him off, you’re sure he's worked out who you are. Your former co-workers hadn't been subtle but you can't gage whether or not this is a walk to the noose.

⧫⧫⧫

Tugging you into the pod he releases your arm and turning to seal the door he finally speaks. “Take off your helmet” His tone sends goosebumps over prickling over your skin so you pull it off and go to set it down on the table. When you turn back, he's right in front of you glaring down eyes dark. It makes you feel tiny. “Show me your arm.”

His words are too concise, so abrupt you hesitate. It's like he's a different person, an enemy you aren't sure you should comply to. Ezra decides you're taking too long and seizes the top of your arms spinning you both around and pinning you against the pod's wall, knee hitched up between your legs keeping you in place. You squirm in a futile attempt to get away and gasp as he unzips the front of your suit and shoves it down to your waist. Ezra breathes heavily as he rakes his eyes up to your body to your face. Doing his best to swallow down his desire, he ignores your own heaving chest and grabs the back of your neck forcing you to look up at him.

“Little bird, take off that measly scrap of fabric and reveal the truth.” You gulp eyes wide fingering the knot of the bandage on your arm. Ezra gives you a little shake. “Do it now.”

So, you do, pulling apart the knot and unwinding it from your arm. You don't look at it, perhaps if you don't see it, it's not really there. Instead, you watch Ezra's face for his reaction, gleaning nothing as he releases your shoulder and grabs your wrist bringing it up for him to see clearly. His brow furrows as he inspects your forearm, a brand of three circles linked like a chain. Kevva, he'd hoped he'd been mistaken. You're frozen as his gaze returns to you, dark eyes furious he crowds around you, filling your senses, body pressing you against the wall. His leg shifts slightly between yours and you almost whimper.

“You've been dishonest, little bird, and I do not appreciate it.” Ezra feels at war, he's furious you lied but he understands why. He's fuming you had been running with a violent, malevolent group of pirates. He doesn't understand why you'd ran after the crash or why you'd turned to him. He wants to know what you have that your crew found so valuable. He wants to know how you're both so hard and so soft. All these thoughts rattle around in his head as he stares at you, your mouth slightly open and your lips wet, until he can only think about how good you feel pressed against him, how delicate you feel under the hand on your neck. How much, despite everything, he wants you. He doesn't notice how close he's gotten to you until he feels the puff of your breath on his face. And then you utterly surprise him.

You can almost hear him think as he stares down at you. You don't want to interrupt but his hold on you is drawing attention to his size, to how much strength and power he holds. It's like he's swirling all around you clouding your brain, filling it with him. So, you let yourself do what you want. You've got nothing to lose. Everything that's yours is in his hands and you can't bring yourself to care. He's leaning closer, bending so with his hand on your neck tilting your head up it's like you’re sharing breath. You close the gap and kiss him.

For a second, he freezes in surprise and then he's kissing you back. Harshly biting your lower lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth. It's desperate and rough and you lick into his mouth in response loving the low moan coming from deep in his chest. He releases your wrist and grasps your hip closing any distance left between you. He grinds into you, the leg between your thighs causing a delicious friction as you whimper into his mouth. He breaks the kiss and stares down at you for a second moving his hands to the bottom of your vest. At your nod he tugs it off and pounces back on you. He rubs his hands up your sides as he kisses you, loving the feeling of how big they are on your frame and how you gasp as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You wriggle against him trying to unfasten his suit and shove it down his arms. He obliges, stepping back he pushing it off and kicks it away leaving him in his underclothes, staring at you, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes you in. Then he's back on you, seizing your jaw and tilting your head up to look at him as his other hand tugs down the remainder of your suit taking your leggings with it.

Eyes look up and down your form, drinking it in as he reaches down to rub a finger over the wetness soaking your underwear. Your mouth drops open and Ezra seizes the opportunity to shove his thumb in your mouth, his grip adjusting to your chin. Smiling as you suck on it.

“Look at you” he coos dragging his nose into your cheek almost mockingly “On display for me, you look good enough to eat.” He punctuates this by biting your neck and pulling your thin underwear taut against your clit just enough you cry out and stand on tiptoe. He grins down at you as you bite down gently on his thumb and then pulls off your underwear letting you kick it aside before stroking his fingers across your slit so gently it makes you buck towards his hand. He moves his hand back to your hip, pinning you back to the wall as he pulls his thumb from your mouth and wraps his hand around your throat, not squeezing just resting there.

“I want you to stay still,” his voice is low and commanding so you nod. “Repeat it back to me, I want to hear you.”

You whimper, “I'll stay still” and he grins before bending to kiss and nip along your jaw above his hand as his other moves back down to your cunt. He circles your clit so gently it's like he isn't really touching you and just as he slightly increases the pressure he draws back. A needy whine falls from your throat but you stay still and he murmurs against your cheek.

“Good little bird, so wet for me. You're positively dripping,” and then just as slowly he eases a finger into. You cry out, so wound tight it's agonising, the contrast between how harshly he gripped you before against his irreverent touches now making you ache for him more than ever. “Sing for me little bird” he demands and then he's really moving, pressing his finger against that spot inside you that makes you see stars, thumb drawing circles over your clit making you moan so loudly it surprises you. 

Ezra watches the flush spread over your skin as your eyes roll back, he doesn't know how he wants you first. Just as you’re getting close, he realises. He wants you begging. 

He forces himself to pull his hand away from you and watches as you shudder with tension eyes opening to look up at him. “Ezra…” your voice is so soft he grins.

You watch him as he raises his hand to his face to lick your juice off it, sucking his finger with a pop. It's so erotic you can only whimper as he smirks down at you. You want to touch yourself, make yourself cum while he watches, but as you lower your hand down he grabs your wrist and moves it back to his shoulder. “Don't misbehave birdie, right now all your pleasure is mine.” You bite your lip.

Then he returns his hand to your pussy, this time shoving two fingers in pumping them as he rubs his thumb against your clit more firmly than before. Your body quivers but his hand against your neck keeps you in place as you moan desperately. As soon as you get close again, he slows down to a stop this time keeping you stuffed with his fingers as you try to get some friction. “Please Ezra,” the tone of your voice shocks you, you've never sounded so needy.

He moves his face away from biting your ear lobe to look at you, “Please Ezra what, little bird? You've got to be clear”

You can't stop the words tumbling out of you, “Please can I cum, please make me cum Ezra”

He smiles almost cruelly, “You sound so exquisite when you beg.” He starts working his thumb again, brushing his lips against yours. The hand on your neck finally starts to squeeze, turning you on more. “Do it again.”

You do, no power could stop you begging for him, saying his name like a prayer. And then you're cumming, your vision goes white as Ezra squeezes your throat firmly, cutting the blood from your brain dragging it out as he shoves a third finger into your wet pussy. 

Ezra swears he's never witnessed anything so magnificent. Your eyes rolling back into your head, mouth open and lips wet, unable to make a sound. How you soak his hand, how you tighten around his fingers. Now all he wants is to find out how many times, how many ways, he can break you apart.

When you begin to squirm, he reluctantly pulls away, you look up only to find he's pulling off his shirt and trousers. Your eyes widen as his cock springs free. You'd known he carried himself like he had nothing to be insecure about but Kevva… he's packing. It's huge and beautiful, slightly curved, a striking vein runner down it. You feel a little more breathless at the sight.

Ezra catches you staring and grins, pressing back against you, grabbing your arse and lifting you against him. You wrap your legs around him as he pins you up against the wall. His cock feels even bigger pressed against your stomach. Ezra grinds against you sucking marks down your neck as he notches himself at your entrance. You whine and claw his shoulders, he's barely into you and you're sure you've never felt so full. “Ezra” your voice is thready “Ezra I don't think you're going to fit.”

He coos in response thrusting shallowly getting slightly further in and making a cry out as you feel yourself drip around his cock. “Don't fret little bird,” he thrusts again getting deeper, kissing you, relishing the feeling of your heat around him, “I know you can take me.”

He thrusts decisively, bottoming out and pushing the air from your lungs. It feels like he's breaking you open, splitting you in two with his cock and you love it. Love the ache as you adjust, love how you can almost feel him in your stomach, love how he has you pinned to the wall supported by those strong hands and his body and totally at his mercy.

You can barely register he's talking as he grinds his hips against your clit. “... squeezing so tight around me. Never in all my time have I gotten so close to Nirvana.”

He waits until you've started to writhe in his arms, just add he'd imagined, begging for him to move. Then he starts long deep thrusts, interspersed by him grinding against your clit making you whimper and moan as you feel his cock drag across your walls.

“Kevva plucked you out of my head and sent you here for me. You're divine, exquisite…” you can't focus on the words, in no time at all you're cumming again. Squeezing him so tight he chokes on his words and kisses you deeply. He doesn't slow down or speed up, keeping his devastating pace until your body starts to relax. Then he nips at your jaw, hooking his arms under your knees and around your back, spreading his palms wide. He steps away from the wall and, slightly afraid he'll drop you, you grab the back of his neck, but you needn't worry. 

Now with you impaled on his cock suspended in the air by his arms, he truly begins to ruin you. Lifting you up and slamming you back he watches your cunt take him, watches how your breasts bounce, watches you throw your head back in a silent scream. He bites into your neck leaving a mark as he sets a brutal pace. Seeing you like this, feeling you like this, has stolen his vocabulary so he curses and growls as he watches, totally enraptured by how well you take him. He thinks maybe he tells you but he can't be sure.

Ezra’s still talking his sentences shorter but still as dirty, the way he praises you makes you moan and combined with his he is destroying you; you don't think you'll ever experience something this good again and then you don't think anything much at all. Just Ezra, his strength, his beautiful words, how perfectly he's fucking you.

Ezra knows he can't last much longer, not in this heaven but he's determined to make you cum again before he does just to feel it. So, he moves you slightly in his arms until he hits that bit which takes your cries even higher. He grins as you dig your nails into his shoulders, the slight pain both grounding him and making him lose his mind.

You feel so overwhelmed and overstimulated that when he adjusts his thrusting you can't help the few tears escaping as you wail. He just pulls you slightly closer and licks them up before staring down and watching how your pussy stretches to take him. You’re so close again you're sure you might explode if you don't cum, or if you do. And then you do, you can't even make a sound as your whole body goes rigid and Ezra doesn't stop pounding you. Instead, you hear him growl and curse and his thrusts get faster and shorter.

Ezra had never experienced anything hotter. The way you threw your head back and took it as he fucked you like a ragdoll. The feeling of you clenching around him. How you soaked him, the sound of your fucking would stay with him forever. And then he's cumming, he bites down on your shoulder groaning into your skin as he releases. His mind is wonderfully blank as he squeezes you against himself and fills you up with a dozen shallow thrusts.

He doesn't release you right away, just holds you to his chest as he turns to lean against the wall cock still in you. Blissful in the moments before his thoughts start buzzing again. When you can move you look up at Ezra, he meets your eyes, gaze totally unreadable. He reluctantly releases you with a groan and grabs his shirt as he kneels and begins to clean off your combined juices dripping down your legs. Seeing him on his knees taking care of you threatens to give you hope which you tamped down. He didn't know the truth yet and he had readily thrown you out once before. When he's done, he stands and tosses the shirt to the side, tugs on his soft under trousers as you pull on your own clothes. The silence feels like a giant pit between you and you glare at your feet unsure how to start this important conversation.

To your surprise Ezra gently pinches your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “We've still got much to discuss, little bird.” At your nod he pulls your hand into his ignoring how small and delicate it feels and gently tugs you towards the burrow. He has to know the truth.

⧫⧫⧫

You sit next to each other, his back against the wall, you sitting forward nervously running your fingers over the brand on your arm. Ezra just watches you, waits for you to explain and hopes you aren't a threat he'll have to get rid of after you've shared such intimacy.

“I don't… I won't come off like a very good person or partner when I tell you this. So just listen… please?”

Ezra nods, “None of us can be considered a good person, our humanity is dependent on our survival” he sighs, “Spin your tale, I'll remain in silence until it's done and keep my judgement of our partnership till it's completion”

You swallow, “I fixed a ship, that's how this whole mess started. We were leaving a dig and something had gone wrong which would have forced us to land. But I suited up and fixed it in zero G. It was completely stupid and shouldn't have worked but it did and we made it back to the dock. It wasn't till we'd sold off all our gems and separated that I was cornered. Turns out the malfunction wasn't an accident and by fixing it I'd cost them a lot of money in what they would have stolen from us. They reckoned I owed them and… they aren't people you want to owe”

You close your eyes and Ezra watches you tense. He'd like nothing more than to pull you into his arms but as he reaches for you, he clenches his fist. He needs to hear you out.

“They went through the rest of my team to get to me…” oh, Ezra understands they'd totally isolated you. “Well, they worked out since I could fix their brakes, I could mess up the ships in ways that couldn't be fixed without an emergency landing. They branded me there and then. Didn't even tell me how long I'd have to work to balance what I owed; probably thought I'd be dead by then.” You look down at your arm and frown.

When you look back at Ezra, his eyes are sharp, watching you intensely. “That scars old, little bird, how long did you dutifully aid their robberies.” Robberies of prospectors, people like him, people who'd been like you.

You look away, jaw clenched, “Long enough for it to get easy.”

Ezra doesn't move behind you, doesn't speak. You can't look at him.

“And then I couldn't anymore, I saw what I'd become and I hated it.” Your nails dig into your arm. “No one's good out in the fringe. But I was worse. I can't make up for what I did… can't take it back, can't return lives, possessions any of that. But I could stop, bring my crew down too. We used a distress beacon to lure in the other ships and…” you laugh “This time as I boarded after dealing with the other ship. I dunno, I just snapped and blew our engine too.”

Your mouth twists at the memory, “The pilot saw and I… when I was done, I just thought one down. I didn't want to die myself, that’s the easy way out, so I did my best to pull the chutes, hoping I'd play dead and hitch a ride out. Well, you know the rest.”

You stare straight ahead as a tense silence follows not daring to see Ezra glare at you. You don't see his soft eyes looking you up and down, his mind reeling. Had he known this when you’d first met, he would have shot you without question and left you to rot, your presence nothing more than a risk to his survival. But now, you’d saved him, talked with him, he’d gotten to know you. How you drink your caf black saying you’re “sweet enough”, how you look in the morning, how you laugh, how you moan. He knows he can’t kill you now, but you are a threat. He doesn’t know what to do. “Why are they searching for you? What do you have that they want? Your friend mentioned something.”

You laugh humorlessly, “They don't know where the other ship crashed, I was in the pilot’s seat, so no one else could see it go down. Fat lot of good it'll do them wrecked here.”

There's a bang on the side of the pod, “Shite” Ezra mumbles, “Our quixotic friends have returned.”

⧫⧫⧫

The wait for them to leave seems to take hours, the silence making your heart pound and your thoughts race over what you can do now. Ezra will definitely want you gone, only a mad man would keep you around with your history. Perhaps back to the original plan, see if you can mend the other ships escape pod and get the hell off this planet.

By the time the locals have decided your pod is empty, your plan is set. You stand, not looking back at Ezra. “I'll get scarce, I know I'm a problem waiting to happen.”

You grab your bag feeling in the pocket for your ring, a memory of a home you can't return to, old gods you're no longer sure are there. You look down at it as you step out of the burrow not noticing Ezra follow. You shove it into your suit pocket.

He is stumped for words as he watches you grab your possessions that have become scattered around the pod. He sees how your lives have become enmeshed. Scraps from your notebook scattered around where you'd played hangman or left notes and reminders for each other, items of clothing he watches you fail to pack, that damn terrible caf on the workbench.

He's not sure that he'll ever get all the pieces of you out of the pod, out of himself. You're under his skin, the very smell of you making his heart beat with more determination. As you reach for your helmet, he grabs your hand and finally you look up at him.

“Don't leave, I don't want you to leave.”

It's so simple but it means so much more and he thinks you maybe realise as you look up at him tears in your eyes. “I don't want to go.”

And then he kisses you. It's slower than before but no less fierce sparking a deep need in your chest. Gently now, he pulls off your suit as if he's still persuading you to stay before running his hands up your arms and down your back and sides like he's memorising your shape. When he kisses you again it's hungry, intense, he's trying to put words he's afraid to speak into it and it totally wiped your mind as you let him pull you back into his burrow.

Then he's peeling all your clothes off you. His touch is irreverent like he's unwrapping a precious artifact. He tugs you to lie down and settles between your legs pulling off his own shirt. He balances his weight on his arm above your head to nip at your lips, you reach up to run your hands up his chest, feeling him shudder as you gently rake your nails over the skin.

His other hand is squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple before seizing your hip and pulling you flush against him. The friction of his trousers against you, combined with how he's surrounding you, invading all your senses, is overwhelming.

“You are something else entirely,” he's kissing his way down your body, sucking purple bruises as he goes, seeming determined to mark every inch of you. “I could travel the whole breadth of this hostile galaxy and never find a sight as breath-taking as you laid out before me, a divine meal worthy of gods”

His words turn you on more as his ministrations make their way down to your legs. He bites your inner thigh almost too hard, making you squeal and jerk away but he grabs your hips and pulls you back, laving his tongue over the slight indent left by his teeth. You don't know how he's done it, not hours ago he railed you into oblivion and somehow, he has wound you tight all over again. It's like he's playing an instrument, plucking your strings both hard and soft so you melt.

His eyes meet yours, dark and hungry and he holds your gaze as he licks up your slit, his tongue wide as flat. You moan softly as he smiles, “Straight from the source your essence is even more delectable.” He stares at your pussy, seemingly fascinated by how it's fluttering around nothing, totally rapt by a droplet of your arousal sliding its way down.

You whimper at him, and try to buck your hips in his grip, desperate for him to do anything other than stare. He chuckles at you, “So willing to give yourself to me,” then he spits on your cunt. You gasp, half from shock and half from how much it turned you on. He grins as you tense and dives in.

Ezra eats you out like water from a well after crossing a desert. It feels as if he's writing the words, you’re stopping him saying all over your clit as you cry his name. His eyes closed he reaches up and seizes your hands, pulling you closer and settling his elbows over your hips keeping you still and at his mercy as he moans against you. Your eyes close as you feel sparks travel up and down your spine as he shoves his tongue into you making you whine but then he pulls away. Rubbing his cheek on your thigh, his beard tickling you.

“I want you to look at me little bird.” You can't help but obey his command instantly opening your eyes to see his pupils blown wide as he smirks. “You'd do just about anything for me to let you cum, wouldn't you? Don't worry your pretty head. I want you to cum in my mouth.”

Then he's back on you, sucking your clit between his teeth, you gasp his name trying to squirm away. his eyes piercing you, his mouth on you, his hands covering yours, his arms holding you down. It fills your head with him totally overpowering you and then you cum.

You go totally rigid, you're still looking at Ezra but your vision has gone so white you can't see him, just feel him moan against your cunt as you soak his tongue. Even as you start attempting to twist away, he continues, switching between sucking and licking at you as his strong arms pin you down. You cry out at the overstimulation, shuddering from it, tears leaking from your eyes and in no time at all you're thrown over the edge again. Cumming so hard your mind is totally wiped of anything but Ezra.

This time he grants you a reprieve, sitting up he watches your chest heave as you slowly come back into your body. He's lost for words, seeing you like this is better than anything he'd ever imagined and he still wants more, wants to ring every drop of pleasure out of you. And when you smile up at him, totally blissed out and willing, he's sure he'd do almost anything to keep you.

He doesn't put it into words though. Instead, he crawls over you seizing your jaw “Open that pretty mouth little bird,” something about how you so readily obey him twists in his chest and makes his cock twitch. He ignores it and bends close spitting into your mouth. You can taste yourself in it and it sparks your desire all over again.

He can't hold in a groan as you swallow, still smiling, his head seems too empty so he kisses you. It's fiery, filled with lust as you kiss him back and wrap your legs around him reaching down to pull off his trousers, he pulls back to kick them away as his cock springs free, it's hot and red as you wrap you hand around it, not even able to meet finger and thumb and squeeze slightly making him growl and bite along your jawline. “Tell me little bird, what would you will me to do?”

You meet his gaze, “Fuck me.” he groans into your neck, “Please.”

He watches your face as he positions himself at you entrance, “Kevva,” it's like he's not really talking to you, “I've never borne witness to anything so magnificent as your perfect cunt soaking me,” he slowly pushes his way in. It makes you whimper and him growl and you watch the tension in his neck as he restrains himself from ruining you, “Fuck you're tight.” His language is getting simpler as he starts losing control. His soft eyes beg you to let him move as his jaw clenches and you can't help but give in. 

“Please Ezra, move! fuck me”

The noise he makes is inhuman as he starts drilling into you. He shoves one of your knees up over his shoulder, deepening his thrusts making you cry out as he shreds against your walls. All he can think is how hot you are, how wet, how tight, how perfectly you take him. He's shoving up against your g shot with every thrust, coarse hairs grinding on your clit, you feel totally at his mercy to do nothing but take it and it may be the best sex you've ever experienced, ever will experience.

He looks beautiful, your juices still glistening on his face, brow furrowed and eyes half lidded but so piercing you might think he was furious if not for how in-between curses he's describing you, what he thinks of you. You aren't sure he even knows he's talking and the need in his words drives you higher and higher despite how spent you feel, how much you don't think you can cum again. And then you do. Kevva the way you clamp down on him clawing his back makes him lose his mind, he shoves both your knees up to your chest bending over you to bite you lower lip. The change in angle adds more friction, his thrusts get shorter, faster. Ezra cums so hard he can't think, you watch his eyes roll into his head, the groan he makes cuts off his own speech as he shoves himself as deep into you as he can get and releases. 

Ezra’s ears are still ringing when he manages to roll himself off you. Both of you are panting, as you stare at the roof of the pod and try to muster the words. Naturally, Ezra succeeds first. “Little Bird, I didn't know experiences such as that could be bestowed upon men like me.” You can only make a little noise in reply as he takes your hand and silence falls again.

Finally, when your breath is caught and you can both think again, he pulls you to his chest and wraps his arms around you resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Little bird, I'm starting to agree our dig may be bust. Trouble is biting our ankles and I should have listened earlier. Let's pillage what we can to fix the pod and get going. The dig is almost done, even split it'll be a while before I need to pick up another job.” You feel a sting at how quickly Ezra had returned to talking business but you do your best to brush it off. There's nothing wrong with some shagging between friends and it's no reason for him to feel the same fluttering in his chest that you do in yours.

“Right then we should travel light, get everything we need and come back. The fix won't take long, we can be gone in two days.” Two days left with Ezra makes you feel a little sad, you suppose you'd just gotten used to his company.

Ezra smiles grimly, “If we're lucky.”

You turn and roll over enjoying how he follows, wrapping you in his arms, tangling your legs like he can't bear to be separate. “I do have a question for you if you don't mind?”

You shrug, “Depends what it is.”

“What is that strange ring you carry but don't put on.”

“It's… it was a gift when I left home. It's supposed to be my payment.”

Ezra's mind casts back to how you paid honour to the dead, even those he certainly didn't think deserved a boatman. Saving them from a potential purgatory. But you didn't wear yours.

“Little bird, forgive my bluntness but curiosity is driving me to ask. Why don't you wear it?”

You squeeze your eyes closed, forcing away images of your past, grounded in Ezra's warm grip. “It's,” you sigh, “It's just too heavy.”

Ezra can feel how tense you've become and fights off the heavy guilt threatening to settle in his chest. You think yourself deserving of the hundred-year wait wandering the shore, think the loneliness is just. He kisses the back of your neck. “We should let our dreams take us lest we attract more trouble. It is salient we are well rested.”

You sigh, relaxing against him despite yourself. Long since exhausted by the day and his attentions, you let yourself drift off. Faintly feeling a hand caress your cheek, but you could have imagined it.

⧫⧫⧫

Waking up with someone warm in his arms is something Ezra could get used to. He tells you as much but you brush it off, someone isn't necessarily you after all. Ezra talks as you pack but he avoids the subject of you, of you both. He didn't want to scare you off, he tells himself, his flighty little bird. But he knows he's lying to himself, just being a coward, afraid of your reaction. He avoids meeting your eye until, helmets on, you both stand by the door. Taking a moment of peace before heading into the waste. He takes your hand seeking reassurance as much as trying to give it. You meet his eyes looking a little afraid but determined. He squeezes it tight before letting go and opening the door.

The walk East is easy enough, a pretty straight shot over flat ground. The only real problem being navigating the increasingly dense petrified forest. Ezra talks continuously, but you're grateful, glad it isn't awkward between you and enjoying his descriptions of other worlds he's visited. Where instead of breathless death and grey, there's vivid greens and blues of plants and flowers. Where the beauty is just as dangerous as this blank world. And, slowly, you start to talk too. Really talk. You describe a world that, to you, had seemed to be entirely made up of a casino, and the trouble you had gotten into there.

“Too rich for my blood,” Ezra chuckles and you agree.

You don't tell him about your home, not yet. But being able to talk, to laugh about something you'd done, feels freeing. Like a weight has been lifted ever so slightly off your shoulders.

You’re both grateful the walk is uneventful but you can't relax as the looming silhouette of the other spaceship appears through the trees. It's still too early for hope.

As you approach you see that the crew had successfully pulled their parachutes, but too late. The side of the ship had caved in where it had skidded across the earth, giving you both a way in. When you stop Ezra’s looking at you, “Any chance of survivors, little bird?”

You just shrug. “I doubt it after this. They were running a skeleton crew.” You wince slightly at the double entendre, hoping you have the time to find their bodies and pay their dues.

Ezra raises an eyebrow at you. “On a ship this big? That is most peculiar.”

“I guess, I didn't get a chance to think about it at the time.”

You go over the list again, 5 items, 5 areas. All small enough to carry in your packs. To yourself you add another item, just in case you get the chance.

“We stick together, watch each other’s backs.” You nod in agreement and you both step into the ship.

⧫⧫⧫

There's a faint dripping noise, like a clock ticking. It sets off your nerves as you leave the light of the suns. Inside is cast in red, a good sign the electrics haven't been fried, but totally unsettling. It casts humanoid shadows across the grated walls seemingly flickering with every step. Ezra had gone totally silent but his presence behind you is reassuring. Together you pry open the first door.

Inside has the same red light but the weapons board flashes at you telling you it's still live which is strange. You mumble it to Ezra. “These things usually shut down first after a crash, they drain loads of power that's usually diverted out.”

He frowns at you. “Mayhaps a malfunction? It looks like a rough crash.”

“Yeah. Probably.” But it niggles at the back of your brain. All you can do right now is ignore it so you wrench the panel out from the wall to the side and stick your arm in. Feeling around, you brush your fingers up against the dotted cylinder you need. These old ships had a habit of hiding important components in baffling locations, apparently to protect them in a crash which you do suppose this has, but you suspect it's to confuse novice engineers and pillagers alike. 

Ezra is keeping a sharp eye on the door but he can't help but enjoy watching you work, grumbling about what a stupid place this was for a fuse break and how it would have been harder to wreck their engine had it actually been where all the ships power came from. He grins at you and you smile back tugging the, whatever it was, out of the wall. He tosses his pack over to you.

“I'll get this one birdie,” making you roll your eyes but you gently place it in and hand it back. 

“Take care of that.”

“I'll cradle it as if it were a new-born.” He says so sincerely you can't help but snort.

“Don't worry too much, ships like these are made hardy, they don't just fry things like your pod.” He scowls playfully at you as you head back to the corridor.

“I will not hear a negative word about her, we've been together for years.”

The ship groans around you as if it's a living creature as you head deeper in. The maze of corridors makes Ezra feel turned around but you seem to know where to go and he follows dutifully. The next stop is a storage closet smaller than his little burrow.

Inside is a collection of boxes from which you produce two tiny discs. You look at Ezra, “I doubt they'll mind me taking a spare, these things are expensive.” Still not being entirely sure what everything you're searching for is, he just shrugs,

The moment of ease sputters out when you enter comms. There's a buzzing that sets your teeth on edge, someone's been on the radio. Ezra clicks it off but the silence is suddenly oppressive. Trying hard to hear any sign of life you scan the dark corners of the space. 

“We don't know how long this has been on.” Ezra’s voice is steady but there's an edge you know too well. You agree all the same, hurrying to rip the tubing out from under the console. The blinking lights shut off with a hum as Ezra takes it from you, looping it together and shoving it into his pack. You don't argue.

Two items left, you'd saved the cockpit and the engine till last, both at the opposite end of the ship. 

The door to the cockpit is open. you look at Ezra, his jaw is set glaring into it. You head in first moving swiftly to the control panel to the side to start pulling the whole thing apart for one measly chip. He disappears into the shadows to search the room. It's too big, too many places to hide, he thinks to himself trying to picture the best place for an ambush.

He finds one body, curled in on itself as if tossed into the corner. The next is under a nav table, arms over its head. The final one is the hardest to look at, in the pilot seat, hand still grasping the parachute release. He swallows as he takes in this futile effort to survive, picturing the final moments as the ground rises to meet them, the hopelessness.

He spins when he hears your voice.

“Wait, wait!”

“You should have stayed away-“

Ezra doesn't even think, he just shoots and the man with a blade at your throat drops. He didn't even know he could draw that fast. He fights off the adrenaline, calming his breathing as he approaches you. Your eyes are wide with shock and you take a deep breath looking up at him.

“Thank you, Ezra.”

He just wants to pull you close, hold you against him, protect you with his body. With the suits and helmets, it would be uncomfortable so he grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest.

“Think nothing of it.”

“I didn't think there could be any survivors.” At that he examined the body. Shit, the suit, the emblem, the skull etched into the glass of his helmet.

“That, little bird, is because there aren't any. It appears that the locals are here.”

You squeeze his hand. “We've got to hurry.”

He nods, “Give me three coins.”

He’s found them. You'd already known they'd be dead but the confirmation sits heavily over you. You hand him the coins.

“You finish here, I'll take care of them. Don't worry.”

The kindness he's showing by doing it for you aches in your chest. You take the frustration out on the unsuspecting control panel. Tearing into it, pulling parts out, desperately trying to get a grip on your emotions and breathe a sigh of relief when you emerge, chip in hand. No one has ever extracted one so quickly you reckon. You shove it in your pack.

Heading to Ezra you take his hand, try to convey thanks through the touch alone. Thanks for saving you, thanks for not making you bear this burden solitarily, thanks for just being company after so long alone. You look up at him, he's chewing his words again but doesn't speak so you turn and lead him out.

In the engine room you seize a battery and yank it from the wall, grateful the lights stay on. Ezra takes it from you. “Don't argue birdie I'm bigger than you.”

He's cut off by a horn echoing through the ship. You swallow. 

Taking his hand again, you both creep out of the room. Every sound is too loud, you curse your boots, the rattle of your tools, your own harsh breathing. You can't fail now, you're so close. At the sound of footsteps, you pull Ezra through a door into a room with bunks, closing the door as quietly as you can, you both hold your breath. As they pass the door his grip tightens on yours so much you feel the heat of his hand through your gloves. His eyes scan your face, like he's trying to memorise what you look like. You realise you’re doing the same to him.

When they pass you glance around the room as Ezra slumps against the door his eyes shut tightly. As you let go of him you see something in the corner of your eye. No fucking way. It's a gem case, unassuming on the outside but far bigger than the one Ezra carried. Item number six.

You shove it into your bag.

⧫⧫⧫

Neither of you seem to breath for the rest of your journey through the ship. Eyes and ears too peeled to do much else. The second you see the light outside you swallow. You say a prayer to yourself as you creep towards it.

The light blinds you as you step out. Something shoves you to the side, you hit the ground hard knocking the wind out of you as you try to see what hit you. The second your eyes adjust to the light you see Ezra trying to knock back one of the locals, trying to gain space to draw. You wrestle your pistol out of your holster and aim but you can't shoot. Their dance is too close and you're afraid to hit Ezra. 

It all happens in slow motion. The stranger thrusts his spear into Ezra's stomach and pulls it out. He cries out stumbling back giving you a straight shot. You fire the same moment as the local brings his spear down on Ezra’s helmet.

You shoot too late. 

Ezra drops back against the ship sliding to sit. Shattered glass glitters over the ground around you threatening to cut your knees as you crawl to him. His helmet is shattered.

“No no no no no” you press on the wound in his stomach tugging your pack off your back to get the med kit. “We've got to go, there's going to be more of them.”

He puts a hand over yours. “Little bird, I'm afraid my adventure has come to its conclusion”

You look at his face. “No Ezra! I can close this for now, we've got time. We can make it back.” His eyes are wide and sad, wet with the threat of tears. “Don't look at me like that!” There's desperation in your voice.

“You've got to go. Relieve yourself of my burden, you can repair the vessel and get away by yourself. You don't need me.”

“Shut up! I can't just leave you here.” You push his hands away and pull out a gun of sealing foam “Don't fucking argue with me, we've got so close you can't just give up.” Ignoring his arguments, you press the nozzle through his suit and fill his wound. He lets out a groan. As quick as you can, you pull your pack back on and stand seizing Ezra's arms and heaving him to his feet. He gives a short shout of pain but doesn't protest as you hook his arm over your shoulder for support.

You start to walk like this as the suns begin to dip. Keeping your pistol in your free hand you scan around you. The dead trees provide good cover but they also give any attackers the element of surprise so you do your best to listen out whilst you support Ezra.

It's a little difficult with his talking but you can't complain, not when it means he's still alive. But he's getting heavy, putting more weight on you, you don't know how long you can hold him up. Just as you're beginning to feel truly weak his topic of conversation changes.

“Little bird, it has been an exponential honour to be enclosed within your company. To have your trust if only a little. Kevva, the chance to learn your body the way I got to was a treasure worth more than any gem I could find. I only wish I could learn your mind just as intimately, to possess the knowledge of what makes you laugh, cry, your favourite food, favourite music. I'd cherish every drop of yourself you'd let me have until I could carry a vault of you with me”

“Ezra, don't…”

“The opportunity is being stolen from me, I both resent it and I'm so grateful for the time I've had. Little bird, don't let my soliloquy deceive you. I mean every word.”

You can't stop moving, but you grab onto him a little tighter. Letting yourself squeeze your eyes closed just for a moment to fight off the tears. There's no guarantee he'll survive, no hope yet, no point admitting feelings just to let him die. It would hurt too much.

You keep walking. Reminding Ezra to breath as slow as he can. Holding yourself together just to keep him upright.

Then you see it, your pod, through the trees, dark against the burning red sky. 

There are two locals at the door. They turn.

Before you can think to react, Ezra pushes you aside as a spear careens where you'd just been stood. Drawing before you can blink, he fires twice. The locals fall. And then, so does he.

⧫⧫⧫

You aren't sure if you're saying his name out loud or just in your head. You roll him into his back and try to shake him awake. He doesn't even stir. 

Instead, you seize the straps of his pack and use them to drag him towards your pod.

Your muscles are screaming after supporting him for so long but you don't let up, drawing strength from who knows where.

How did the pod seem so close minutes ago? Now it's miles away.

You don't know when you started crying.

You don't stop moving, can't stop until you've managed to pull him inside and seal the door. You yank off your helmet, tossing it aside and falling to your knees next to him pressing your ear to his chest, desperately trying to hear his heart through his suit.

It's dead silent.

That's when you scream. Tears streaming down your face you bring your fist down on his chest as hard as you can.

“Breath you bastard! Take a fucking breath!” You're sobbing now, “You can't just leave me here, leave me all alone. Not after all this. Not when we got so close.”

You curl over him pressing your face to his, your tears dripping onto him leaving tracks through the dust and blood on his skin. “You can't leave me alone,” it's barely a whisper. “Ezra.” You say his name over and over again like a prayer.

And then his chest moves. 

You don't know whether you should laugh. You just keep bawling as you tear off his suit and grab his hand.

He doesn't wake up but it's enough, you squeeze his warm hand for another second before wiping at your face and getting your med kit. “Let's see what I can do about this wound hmm?”

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra hears someone calling his name. But they seem so far away. He tries to move towards the voice but it's like moving through syrup. He lets himself sink back.

⧫⧫⧫

The wound is deep and spurts with blood as you pull out the foam, painting your hands in the same red as the sky outside. Pursing your lips, you apologise to him, hoping he doesn’t feel the pain. Cleaning the wound takes time but as far as you can tell the spear managed to avoid all his organs so you seal it up as best you can. The lack of oxygen is what has you truly worried, who knows what damage could have been done in the time it took you to drag him to the pod. With your medication he might heal but you can’t be sure. You fight off the thoughts of what you’d have to do if he never did wake up. Would you be able to bury him?

You sleep curled to his side, a hand on his shoulder. It’s fitful, plagued by nightmares of waking up to find him cold. Every time you wake up crying, you watch his chest rise and fall and pray, he’ll make his way back to you.

⧫⧫⧫

The next thing he hears is a clang followed by a curse, then it's silent again

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra made it through the night. To distract yourself from worrying he might never wake, you wrap him up warm and begin to repair the pod. It’s slow work but its methodical movements help regulate your breathing. Until you hear a grunt. You drop whatever you were working on and swear to yourself as you kneel by him. But he’s no more present than before. Perhaps you had imagined it. Prayed so hard you’d began torturing yourself. You look over him, how could you go on without him. No one to make you laugh, or care what happens to you. It’s justice you suppose, just another thing for you to feel guilty about. You suppose you’ll go on just to keep feeling that guilt.

Again, you barely sleep.

⧫⧫⧫

And then, as if surfacing from a dive, Ezra opens his eyes. His back hurts. He works out why as, slowly, he identifies the ceiling above him. He's lying on the floor with nothing more than a pillow and a blanket that's been tucked all around him up to his neck. He wrestles his arms free, stretching them above his head and then prodding his stomach, it's tender but the wound is closed. Then he sits up with a grunt.

You're stretching up to try and pull a ration bar of the top shelf of your measly kitchen cupboard. You swear and turn to find something to climb on and then you see Ezra.

He's sitting up, grinning from ear to ear. You nearly jump a foot into the air and then you’re frozen to the spot. He chuckles to himself and clambers to his feet, it looks difficult but you aren't sure you can move to help so you stay put as he supports himself along the wall and approaches you.

“Little bird, you are the most incredible, fascinating, stubborn creature I have ever laid my eyes upon.” And then he's pulling you into his chest, wrapping you in such a grip it's a little difficult to breath but you don't mind. You just hug him back, if gently, very aware of how he'd recently been stabbed. He buries his nose in your hair. “How long was I out?”

“Three days, I managed to melt down some meds to inject you so you… well, so you actually healed. Oh, and then I fixed the pod but it didn't feel safe to take off what with you having a hole in you.”

He laughs, you can feel it rolling through his body and it makes you grin. It's so alive.

“May I also ask why I was on the floor?” That's your cue to laugh to. 

“Do you honestly think I could lift you onto the cot?”

“Frankly little bird, I didn't think you could have got me to the pod. You are certainly a force to be reckoned with and not one to be underestimated.”

You close your eyes and breath him in. “I almost didn't make it.” He just shushes you running his hands up and down your sides.

“No point wondering what could have been birdie. You saved me.” You look up at him, his eyes are wet as he smiles down at you. “What I did to deserve it may evade my knowledge forever, but it must have been spectacular.”

You feed Ezra and then force him to stay still for the day. Even as he protests you don't really think he minds, finally getting an opportunity to finish reading ‘The Power’. You sleep curled into his side.

The next day you leave.

⧫⧫⧫

Two days floating in space before the station slings back to pick you up. The sense of relief is immense. Ezra is in the seat next to you, any other person telling such a graphic tale about a flight home wrong would've sprung anyone with nerves but you just grin. You made it, you both made it.

“Even split, little bird? Although, I can't say I find the idea of us separating particularly appealing.”

You grin, “Me neither, although I do maintain the even split, you save my arse, I save yours.”

He smirks, “I'll have your arse anytime” you smack his knee with what was formerly his copy of ‘Perfume’. He scowls playfully, tossing his own book aside and tugging you into his lap.

And then looks totally bemused as your mouth drops open, “Holy shit I can't believe I forgot!” You hop off him and he grumbles at you but watches curiously wondering what you'd forgotten that was so important. You kneel to open your pack, pulling out a gem case. A huge gem case.

“Where in that abhorrent hell did you manage to acquire that?”

“I think it was why I was told to bring down that ship, I picked it up in the bunk room.”

It's locked but you happily spend the next half an hour gently taking apart one screw at a time. Ezra watches you the whole time, not even thinking about your bounty, just enjoying how you hum to yourself and smile every time a screw comes loose, batting his hands away every time he grabs at you. It's domestic.

You meet his eye as the last screw comes loose and he joins you kneeling on the floor. “Let's not get our hopes up” you say, “We've got more than enough to last a while whatever happens.” He nods and you pull the case open.

His jaw drops. “That is remarkable.”

You meet his eye and laugh. You've never seen him look so surprised. There are three gems inside, each one about the size of your head.

He lets out a huff of laughter “I’m beginning to suspect there was nefarious business afoot on that ship…”

“Ezra?”

“Mmhm?”

“I think I'd like to go somewhere with a sea.”

“Little bird, I suspect that can be arranged” Then he kisses you, pulling you against him.

You wriggle back, “Even split?” He just grins and bites at your ear.

In no time at all you’re in his lap as you pull off each other’s clothes. He rubs his beard against your bare neck to make you giggle as he nibbles it, hands roaming all over you. You nip his collar bone making him groan, it flips a switch in him and seconds later he’s grabbing your hips to position you over his cock.

He lowers you down so slowly it makes you squirm and whimper and beg him to move.

He grins at you, catlike, “We’ve got all the time in the world, little bird. And I intend to use it”

⧫⧫⧫

Hours later you wake. Ezra is snoring quietly into your neck tempting you to rouse him. You’re thirsty though, so, reluctantly, you peel his arms off you to get a glass of water. As you return your toe catches on your suit where it lies on the floor. As you reach to move it your ring drops out of the pocket, clinking quiet onto the ground.

You bend to pick it up and look at Ezra, then back at the ring. Had you not gone through all those years in that gang of pirates, you’d never have found him, never got to save his arm or his life. You both might be dead. You had been right; you couldn’t change your past. But you’d never know what else might have happened. There’s still guilt, there always will be. But you feel a little lighter.

You put on the ring and return to Ezra. He pulls you against his chest without waking.

You smile.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @engineeredfiction @mothandpidgeon @sleep-tight1

[thankskenpenders]

So there’s been a lot of buzz about the big leak about Sega’s upcoming plans for Sonic. The source is allegedly credible, but even credible leakers can get stuff wrong, so as always take all this with a HUGE grain of salt. (Some of this is also just stuff that isn’t that hard to guess based on the trajectory of the series recently.) I’ve been asked about it, so here are my thoughts

The big thing here that people seem to be talking about (aside from details on games that may or may not be in development) is that Sega wants to shift focus entirely towards Modern Sonic. (Although, remember, we’re literally getting some Classic Sonic stuff from IDW this year. We’re talking about the games here.) Now, I love me some Classic Sonic content. Mania is easily in my top 3 Sonic games, maybe even my absolute favorite, and it saddens me that the team has gone their separate ways instead of being kept on by Sega to make a sequel. Sonic Mania Adventures, Sonic Mega Drive? Phenomenal stuff. BUT... well, if they play their cards right, I think this is a smart move

Tyson Hesse also recently expressed his opinion that the hard divide between Classic and Modern Sonic is hurting the franchise, and I kind of agree. Everybody loves Mania (again, myself included--I bought it twice), but Mania didn’t do much to solve the core problem of Sonic’s reputation. If anything, it being the best reviewed Sonic game in years (and being followed up by the mediocre Forces) just kind of proved all the naysayers right. The best Sonic game in years was the one that ignored everything made after 1997, and the 3D game that followed it Just Didn’t Get It. (To be blatantly clear, I am not accusing the Mania devs of trying to tank peoples’ opinions of the rest of the franchise or anything absurd like that.)

Continuing to divide the attention of the games between two Sonics risks exacerbating this. People will be validated in viewing the Classic stuff as “the REAL Sonic” while the Modern stuff is just seen as that weird thing Sonic morphed into, when in reality the Modern stuff has been the heart of the franchise for the vast majority of its life at this point. There didn’t even used to be a harsh divide between Classic Sonic and Modern Sonic as separate entities! The divide between the two is way less clear cut than many will tell you, especially if you look back at stuff like Adventure, Advance, and Heroes that were still clearly drawing heavily on the Classic material. Back then, Sonic was just Sonic--he just happened to get a slightly different coat of paint in 1998. You could have SA2′s Sonic running around in Green Hill or Sonic Advance’s Sonic fighting the Eggmobile with the wrecking ball. It was no big deal

Classic Sonic is also, by its definition, a time capsule. It has to be how people remember Sega’s Sonic being in the early ‘90s. They can’t experiment too much with it or add too many new elements or you’ll upset people. Add another ally to the cast and you’ll rile up the “Sonic has too many friends” crowd. Change the gameplay and people will say it’s worse. Give Classic Sonic a voice and people will just say he should be mute. There’s room to do great stuff within the boundaries defined by the old school media, as we’ve seen, but you can only take that so far

(And hell, even if Sega’s going for nostalgia bait, take a quick look at the fandom and you’ll see a HUGE amount of nostalgia for the Adventure and Advance games. I, myself, am a 27-year-old who grew up playing those games religiously, and I know a lot of y’all reading this are in the same boat)

I mean, look at something like Mario. Nintendo hasn’t buried the classic Mario games at all--but at the same time, you also don’t see them splitting Red Overalls Mario off into a different entity to please old school purists. Mario is just Mario, and people like Mario, because Mario platformers are consistently good regardless of style. Like Tyson said in that forum thread: “The goal should be to just make Modern stuff good enough that people don't need to reminisce anymore.” Hopefully, this is what Sega’s trying to do. Not dividing the series in two so they can please old school fans while having no idea what to do with the mainline games, but rather just trying to make the new 3D entries something they can really be proud of as their flagship titles

So, TL;DR: I wish we were getting Sonic Mania 2, but if this is all true and Sonic Team wants to try harder to put out good content with the modern cast in both 2D and 3D then I am 1000% down for that. There is so very much to love in the world of Modern Sonic, as anyone reading the IDW comics knows, and I want the games to reflect that potential more consistently

(Also if this is accurate then I’m happy to hear that they’re moving away from the boost formula. I’ve had a lot of fun with the boost formula games, but Forces made it blatantly clear that they didn’t know what else to do with it)

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Home Sweet Home: Catch ‘Em

Summary- 3.9k Andy Barber x You. You and Andy almost have it all, married and with a jointed family consisting of Andy’s teenage son Jacob, as well as your two younger children John and Cassidy. Looking to add another member, your family is in need of a bigger house, a forever home. You find just the place, 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville Long Island.    Home Sweet Home

Written for @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ Spooky Scary Stories challenge. Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Child Endangerment, Hints of Smut (nothing graphic) Swears.

A/N- I chose Amityville Horror for the challenge because its one of my favorite Spook Stories growing up. When reading you will find a lot of similarities to the 2005 Movie, some of the scenarios and dialogue are specifically from that film. Other parts of it are from the book itself. The family name was changed for my own personal reasons. Happy Haunting!  🎃

A/N 2- We’re halfway through! 

Chapter 2 / Masterlist

The family settled and a few weeks later, morning started out normal for the rest of the household , but didn't start that way for Andy. His coughing never seemed to break and he was covered in a light sheen of sweat. You were already up to make breakfast for everyone, and Andy came down the stairs, rubbing at his chest. 

“Coffee Andy?” You ask while holding the coffee pot over his mug but he shook his head. 

“No, I actually came down hoping to find some cough syrup? Or pain medicine? Anything really. We don't have any upstairs.” 

“Oh I tossed out the old stuff. But I will pick some up when I go out today. I told Jacob that I would drop him off at the high school today after I got John on the bus.” 

Just as you were saying this, a stampede of footsteps came down the stairs making Andy wince a bit and all three kids came around the corner into the kitchen. Andy barked out a bit sharply, which even surprised you. “Y’all don’t need to be running on the stairs.” He coughed again and shivered. “Fuck its cold… I'm going down to check on the heater. If you could get that stuff, that would be great.” 

He snapped the door open and disappeared from sight while you were staring after him in surprise. Even all three of the kids seem to be in shock. Jacob just shrugged at his father's weird behavior and went to sit on a stool at the kitchen bar, the other two following him while you set plates with some scrambled eggs on them in front of them. Jacob just took toast nibbling on the edge of it a bit. 

“My phone cant keep any kind of charge whatsoever! I just got this thing to.” Jacob flipped it around to show you, and you saw it was already at 50 percent. You frowned at that, because of course he had one of the better styles of phones. Much better than anything you've ever had. 

“Your charging cord is working and everything?” You question and he nods, slipping it in his pocket. 

“Works just fine. It charges it to one hundred percent, twenty minutes later it is back down to fifty.” 

You shrug at Jacob at a loss and happen to glance at a small clock on the kitchen windowsill. “Shit.” you hiss out and down the last of your coffee. “Come on, time for the bus before we're late. Jake, meet you in the car.” You grab your car keys and open the door to call down to Andy. “I'm taking the kids to school.” 

You heard nothing more than a resounding deep cough and frowned reminding yourself to pick up that cough medicine for Andy on your way home. “Got your backpack John? Alright, lets go.” The whole pack of kids ushered out the door, leaving Andy all alone. 

Andy is pacing downstairs, waiting for the heater to kick on, cursing it out. 

“Spent all this money and the damn thing wont work.” he mutters while pulling the chair from his desk to it to sit in front of it, messing with the buttons on the front till a groaning protest came from the heater, and it clicked on to blast a bit of cool air, and quickly switched to warm. Rolling his chair back to his desk, he pulled out files from the bottom drawer to contact his clients and inform them that he was back in business at his new location. 

He was so tired though, having felt like he was up half the night feeling ill, and within a few moments he simply closed his eyes to rest them, he would use as an excuse to himself. Within moments he nodded off, and the creeping shadow came out of hiding, solidifying in front of his desk. Sharp clicking steps echoed against the cement floor and claws seared when they touched the wood of Andy's desk. It leaned forward to loom over the desk, over Andy whose chin rested against his chest. Forked tongue slithered along Andy's face, making him twitch in his sleep, whispering “Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em” Red eyes watched his victim for a moment, seemingly at peace in this state. It flexed its hands, claws scratching into the wood before giving a hard shake, sending  papers and pens flying, Andy’s laptop skidding across the surface and a picture that you had set on there yesterday crashing loudly to the floor. Cracking the glass into shattering pieces across the floor to glint wickedly. Andy’s eyes sprang open and he tipped forward to grab his shaking desk in surprise to see glowing red eyes and the scream of “Catch ‘em!” 

Then it all stopped, and he shoved back from his desk, pressing his heels to his eyes thinking he was seeing things. “What the fuck, what the fuck.” when he lifted his head, his breathing shaky to look at his desk, it was all normal. His papers were still exactly where he had set them before, his laptop in sleep mode ready to be used, pens all neatly lined up how he liked, and his family looking at him with wide happy smiles and laughs at the beach, the glass shining slightly in the light. 

“Jesus Christ Andy, get it together.” he shivered, cold once more and started coughing again. The door at the top of the stairs opened and your soft footsteps brought you down, Andy glanced up to see you carrying a steaming mug with the string of a tea bag wrapped around the handle and a paper bag that he assumed must have been the med’s he asked for. You reached the bottom and started approaching him, seeing his flushed face, the way he was heavy breathing with the rise of his chest, and you frowned while sitting the mug in front of him. 

“Baby, you don't look so good.” Your hand brushed against the side of his face, and it felt ice cold to him. Jerking out of your touch a bit, he wrapped his hands around the mug and sipped from it, scowling at the taste. 

“Don't talk to me like one of the kids Y/N.” he bit out of nowhere and he could see your face flash in a bit of hurt. “Sorry- sorry… I don't know what's wrong. Just a head cold is all. Are those the med’s?” 

“I got you a bit of everything.” your voice was colder towards him now, turned off from his offhand comment, and you set those down to, Andy knew he had to make it up to you, that was twice in the same morning he had been short, completely out of character for him. His hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his lap, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I have been an ass this morning.” He said, hoping you would ease up a bit. Which you did, he felt you relax on his thigh and your hand lifted to brush through his hair, tilting your head. 

“I know you're not feeling good. Come up soon and lay back down though? I am worried about you.” you confess, and he nods. “I gotta go back up and check on Cassidy.” 

You leave him at his work, and going up the stairs, you leave the door open to let the kitchen's sunshine at least shine down the dark stairs. Maybe it will remind Andy to come back up you think to yourself as you leave the kitchen. 

As soon as you do, the door eases shut, closing him back down in the dark belly of the house. Up the stairs, you walk the long hallway towards Cassidy’s room, gazing along the walls, imagining the photos you wanted to hang along the way when you heard Cassidy’s soft voice seemingly talking to someone. 

“No Jody, I cant. Mommy wouldn't like that, and neither would Andy.” You tilt your head curiously hearing this now, recalling her mentioning someone by that name a few times now since moving in. 

“Well, okay Jody, that doesn't sound too bad. And it is really cool. He took me out on it a few times. Even let me drive it once.” 

You eased her door open to see her standing in the middle of her room, and she jumped when she saw you. 

“Oh mommy! You scared me.” She giggled, and you poked your head around the door to see what she was talking to. Nothing, there was nothing there. 

“Who are you talking to, Babygirl?” You ask, and Cassidy looks once more where she had been talking before answering. 

“Jody, but they are gone now.” she hummed and turned towards her box of toys to dig through it. You come into the room and go to sit on the edge of her bed, watching as she pulled out a few of her dolls and brought out her tea set. 

You wiggle your nose a bit, knowing imaginary friends were not uncommon. You pull up to a stand as she is setting up her dolls around a small table. “Do you want me to have tea with you?” 

“No Mommy, I wanna just play by myself.” She said happily and you lean down to kiss the top of her head. Walking out, Cassidy followed behind you, peeking out to see you heading off to go back down the stairs. 

“Okay Jody, she's gone. You still wanna go down to see the boat?” Cassidy looked over her shoulder to see the closet door easing open on its own. Cassidy giggled, and raced out of her bedroom, one goal in mind. Going to the boathouse. 

You're in the kitchen, unpacking the last few boxes when you hear Cassidy’s feet thumping down the stairs. Luckily Andy is still down in the basement and hopefully can't hear the thumps that seemed to bother him. You were surprised in finding the door, but figured he must have had to shut it if he was talking to a client. Opening it back up to hear Andy was still downstairs, typing away on his laptop now with the clicking noise that worked its way up the stairs. Humming you lift another box on the table and start to unpack the contents. Turning your back from the fridge, you hop up to sit on the edge of the counter so you could fit the dishes together and put them on the upper shelf you couldn't reach. Unnoticed by you, the alphabet letters on the fridge start shifting around, letters coming together to fit together in a couple words. 

When you finish, you hop off the counter and turn back to catch sight of the refrigerator door, your eyes widening at the horrible words spelled on the door. 

Katch ‘em Kill ‘em 

You gasp in shock at them, wondering who would have possibly written that. Thumps on the stairs distracted you half a second and Andy appeared with his mug for a refill. “Andy, did you write that on the fridge?” you say in a slightly accusing voice, and he frowns while glancing at you as he heads to put the kettle on the stove. 

“What are you talking about Y/N?” 

“The magnets on the fridge.” You answer and you both turn to the fridge door to see the letters scattered all over the place, not spelling anything. You scowl in frustration, because you know what you saw and Andy gives you a strange look. 

“What words?” he asks while he's at the sink, filling up the kettle with water and you just shake your head. 

“Nothing, I thought I saw something, but I didn't.” you brush it off, now unsure of what you saw. While you're unwrapping more dishes, you suddenly hear Andy utter. “Oh shit, Cassidy!” and the tin sound of the kettle crashing in the sink while Andy is sprinting to the back door and outside. You drop what you're doing and follow him out, right on his heels as he's running down the wooden deck steps and headed straight for the boat house. “ANDY?” You shout from behind him as he's running full out across the deck. “What's wrong?!” your panicked, unsure what is going on while Andy is trying to wrench the door open. 

“Cassidy, I saw her go in here.” He rushed out as he wrenched on the handle, trying to get it to unclasp. You start pounding on the door now in a frantic way, Cassidy couldn't swim, and the boat house was stretched over the lake, should she slip in, there was a good chance she would drown. Your fear builds as Andy continues trying to get the door open. “What the fuck. CASS! OPEN THE DOOR.” he yells while trying to push it open.

“Oh god Andy, get it open, get it open.” tears start to well up in your eyes as you picture your daughter slipping under the water out of sight. 

Andy growls out and pushes you aside to slam against the door, hoping to wrench it open. “I'm trying Y/N, get out of the way.” 

Your just about to jump in to swim around to the other side of the boat house when the door sprang open and you both race in, looking around the dim interior to see Cassidy standing on the nose of the motor boat just staring out over the lake, you gasp in surprise seeing her like that as Andy made his way carefully along the edge of the deck not to startle her. 

“Cass, Babygirl, look at me.” Andy says softly as he makes his way towards her. Your right behind him. 

“Cassidy, look at Andy.” you whimper out, watching as she gets closer to the edge of the boat, and her gaze was so far away out over the lake, like she never noticed you or Andy trying to get to her.

“Cass!” He says more urgently, and she jumps to look at him, slipping a bit as the boat rocks from her movements. “Take my hand baby.” He stretches his hand out and she shakes her head a bit. 

“I can’t, I gotta go.” Cass say’s with certainty, tilting her head like she was listening to someone else. “Jody want’s to take me to play.” 

“Take his hand Cass!” your panic rushing your voice and Andy stretches out further over the water, his voice turning hard and authoritative. 

“Cassidy I’m not asking again. Take my hand.” When Cassidy heard him this time, she snapped her head to look at him and her eyes grew wide with surprise. She stretched for his hand, her fingers trying to reach for his. Andy is quick to snatch her and pull her off the boat to safety, falling back against the wall from the momentum. You gather your daughter in your arms, giving a sob. 

“Cassidy what were you doing, you could have drowned.” 

Now the girl is caught up in Andy's and yours fear, giving her own sob as tears burst from her eyes while you and Andy rush out of the boat house with her strongly clutched in your arms, stopping just outside as she wails out. “Jody wanted to see the boat Mommy! Jody wanted me to go with them.” 

“Cass, there is no Jody!” your nerves shook so you shout at her in anger and fear, and Andy reaches to take Cassidy from your arms. 

“She's scared Y/N and didn't know any better, yelling isn't going to help.” He turns the little girl in his arms as she sobs into his shoulder, his hand smoothing along her back to calm her down. “Hey Kiddo, it's going to be okay.” He tried calming Cassidy who’s sobs wracked her body in Andy’s arms, and you walked away a bit to take a shuddering inhale. You know he's right, you're just upsetting her more, but your fear outweighed that right now. 

“Just lock that damn door Andy, so this doesn't happen again.” you look back at the door and he nods. 

“I will go pick up a lock at the hardware store, I promise.” He assured you and you nodded, wiping away your tears. Now your daughters crying in Andy’s shoulder upset you, made you feel guilty for yelling at her. You move to press your hand against her back and say her name. She tilts her head to look at you through teary eyes and you try giving her a shaky smile. 

“I’m sorry baby, I didn't mean to yell. You just really scared me and Andy.” 

She gave a sniffle and Andy eased her back so she could wipe her face dry and look at both of them. 

“I’m-i’m sorry. Next time I will ask.” She said, and you nodded. Andy shifted her once more to rest on his hip. 

“Cassidy, the boathouse is dangerous and you know off limits to you and John. If Jody tells you to do something you're not supposed to, what do you tell Jody?” he asked and the little girl lifted her arm to wipe her face again, hiccuping as she tried to catch her breath. 

“I tell Jody no Andy.” she said, his hand still rubbing against her back. 

“That's right, if you're not sure if you're allowed, you come ask Mommy, Me, or Jacob if it's okay.” he smiled at her to reassure her that it was all okay.

She gave a nod and he held up a pinkie finger, which she hooked her finger around and Andy kissed her forehead. “Pinky promise I swear Andy.” 

“Can't break a pinky promise. You know… I think I have some cookies up at the house.” He said, his hand coming up to brush the last tears away with his thumb on her cheeks. “You wanna get a snack before I have to go back to work?” 

Cassidy seemed to consider it. “Oreos?” 

“Of course they are oreos!” Andy winked as you all headed back up to the house. “Best cookie there is, right?” 

Cassidy gave a firm nod, and you let out a relieved breath. Crisis averted. 

Later that afternoon, Andy came back out of the basement just as you were finishing the kitchen, Cassidy coloring at the table while he grabbed his keys. 

“I will go pick up Jacob and stop at the hardware store.” He pecked a kiss on your cheek, and you looked at him. 

“You sure you're feeling up for it?” 

Andy nodded and flashed a smile. “I feel much better Love, those meds kicked in and some fresh air will do me good.” 

You happen to agree since he's been in that basement most of the day, and you wave a goodbye, deciding you should probably figure out what's gonna be for dinner later in the day. “How about tacos tonight Cass?” 

She cheers and  you double check to make sure there was enough ingredients, which there was. No need to send Andy a text to pick up anything. “Come on kiddo, lets go pick John up from the bus stop.” you snap the door shut, bluntly ignoring the letters scattered over the fridge. 

Heading down the driveway, the house groaned, all alone once again. There was a shattering through the kitchen, your finest dishes being flung from the cupboard and against the wall, fine china dust settling in the air as the scattered pieces spread across the linoleum for you to find later. The basement door wrenched open and the yawning darkness going down the stairs turned darker, more ominous. 

When you came back, you stared in shock, stopping both John and Cassidy from going in to save them from stepping on shattered broken shards. “How about you two go on up to your rooms to play while I clean this up?” 

Both children went upstairs, and you grabbed a broom to start sweeping, as you passed the basement door, you slammed it shut in frustration and anger. 

Night fell and you got the kids settled in. Settling in bed yourself to lean against the headboard, massaging your temples while Andy was in the bathroom getting ready for bed.

You were beat after having to help John with his homework and Cassidy suddenly changed her mind and just hated tacos. Andy seemed to be feeling better, helping where he could. Offering to take over the dishes when John called you back to the kitchen table, and afterwards he hugged you from behind, kissing your neck while whispering in your ear that he couldn't wait to put a baby in you before he went back down to the basement to finish up with a few things.  

Thinking back on his idea made you warm up and when Andy came back in the bedroom and stretched out next to you, you looked at him, biting your lip while looking at him.

“You really wanna tonight?” you asked hopeful, since moving your and Andy’s sexual escapades had diminished a bit and you put it all to the stress of moving a whole family to a new house.

“Make you a baby momma? Of course, come on over Pretty Girl.” He reached up to click off the lights and bathe the room in the moonlight when you gently eased into his lap, the two of you starting with gentle affectionate kisses before they turned deeper and needier. Andy's hands slid up and down your back through your tank top, and you would sigh against his lips at how good it felt. Andy chained kisses from your mouth to your jaw and you tilted your head back to let him chain those kisses of his down your neck. He pulled you in closer to feel more of you when his glance lifted to look in the mirror just behind you at the end of the bed. 

At first Andy had no idea what he was actually looking at, a grotesque face appeared above him in the mirror, like it was balancing on the headboard behind him. Crouching in place, its clawed hands dug into the wood, its muscled body flexing as it swayed slightly on the head board. Up to its face, a forked tongue slithered out and red eyes glared at him in the mirror. How could something from a nightmare be here right now? He wasn't asleep, he was just about to make love to his wife. His head jerked back in shock, banging against the headboard with a loud crack as he looked up to see nothing above him. “Fuck!” 

You yanked up in surprise, running your hands down his chest. “Handsome, what's wrong?” your head tilted and you looked where he was staring, feeling his heart starting to race under your hands. 

“You didn't see that?” He grasped your hips, making you go still as you frowned. 

“See what Andy?” his gaze fell back to ours and then back up. 

“There was something there, fuck I saw it in the mirror. I don’t even know what it was. It looked like a- ” He grasped your hips and sat up to look around, your hands grabbing onto the front of his tee shirt in surprise. Looking back to the mirror and then to Andy who was still trying to figure it out. 

“Like what Andy?” You are studying him trying to figure out what he was talking about. 

“Fuck it I know Y/N.” His hold tightened on you a moment, like whatever was going to rip you away while he still looked around the room. 

“Hey hey, Andy.” you cup his face and make him look at you, kissing his forehead and down till you leaned your forehead against his. “It's okay, there is nothing there, I promise.” Your lips brushed against his. His breathing slowly started to settle back down, and your hands rubbed against his shoulders and the back of his neck as he started to sink back against the pillows, rubbing at his face. 

“It was so real though Y/N. These past few weeks, I feel like I'm losing my mind.” 

You tilt your head and brace your hands against his chest. “Stress Andy, we’ve had a lot going on. It will get better, I promise.” 

His blue eyes shined up at yours and softened seeing you looking down at him, his hands going back to tracing your thighs clasped at his sides. “You know I love you right Pretty Girl?” 

You nodded and he twisted you two around till you were underneath him, and tilted your head up to kiss you deeply. “I think I was just about to put a baby in you.” 

You giggled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and whispering. “Yes you were Andy.”

[handmadecp]

Crown Green Bowls bag build.

( Try saying that after a few drinks hahahahaha )

Hi Guys, real sorry for the long delay on this one, unfortunately real life hit us hard with the passing of our Mother which as I’m sure a lot of you can understand ..it takes it’s toll. However, we are getting back on track and I’m feeling the need to return to the leather. So, as promised, here is the bowls bag. Let’s get straight in.

Pic 1 : This project came about as a request from a family member to fix a Bowls carry bag, turned out it was beyond repair so as a surprise I re-made one completely using the old pieces as the pattern.

Pic 2 : These are the two end sections and one of the inner ‘dividers’ just cut from new veg tan leather 1.5mm thick.

Pic 3 : using dividers I marked a line around the edge and then marked for the new holes.

Pic 4 : finishing the marking out, the same proceedure applies for marking all the holes on all the new pieces.

Pic 5 : next step was to punch all holes on all pieces using a 1.5mm single punch.

Pic 6 : When all the new pieces were cut out marked and punched, it was time to dye them, I chose a walnut color and gave it 3 coats.

Pic 7 :  I cut out a new main body section, transfered all the holes marking with an awl then followed up with the 1.5mm single punch untill i had all the holes made.

Pic 8 : Now all the pieces are ready for the build.

Pic 9 :The main body needs to be thickened up, so, as per the original, I cut a section of card in the shape of the main body and glued it to a nice blue vinyl sheet as shown here, this will eventually become the inner lining. Once dried I trimmed it round the edges glued it to the main body section and continued all holes through these new pieces.

Pic 10 : , I wet the whole thing with a water spray and slowly folded / rolled it and ‘convinced’ it to take the shape I needed, next the end sections were stitched in place using a saddle stitch then I fastened a strap around it to maintain the shape whilst it dried over night. ( I haven’t shown the stitching of these end sections as there are many projects on my blog at ‘Shamencraftprojects showing the procedure, feel free to drop by there and have a look.)

pic 11 : Next day the strap was removed and the case was now dry and holding its shape well.

Pic 12 : view of the inner blue vinyl liner.

Pic 13 : I placed the Bowls in the case and slotted the dividers in between just to give it some time to stretch, for this I lightly sprayed the outside leather with water. ( As the inner vinyl is water proof ). Again..once dried completely the bowls had done their job and they now fitted in easily.

Pic 14 :I positioned the upper straps, marked lightly, ‘scratched / roughed the area they would sit and then glued them in place, here you see me using an awl to carry the holes through

Pic 15 : Here I’m saddle stitching the upper straps to permanently fix them into place.

Pic 16 : The straps fixed in place.

Pic 17 : Folding to see if everything is still lining up,...all ok.

Pic 18 : Now for thelower buckle straps.

Pic19 : Buckles attached ready to close the case and mark their positions, I use the same tecnique to fit these straps as with the uppers.

Pic 20 : Once glued into place Icarry the holes through with an Awl and here I’m Saddle stitching it. I chose Gold colored buckles as I personally think it looks good with the dye color.

Pic 21 : view of the inside during stitching of the lower straps.

Pic 22 : All done, permanently fixed.

Pic 23 : The buckles and straps fit well together and are looking good. N ow for the handle.

Pic 24 : I decided to make a handle from scratch. I folded a piece of leather then..using my own stitch, which is a basic saddle stitch, but after each saddle stitch you take the stitch over the top passing both needles across each other then move to the next and repeat. It holds the leather very well and you end up with a nice looking and very solid stitch, I folded extra end material over on itself to attach the connectors.

Pic 25 : side view.

Pic 26 : You can see here, I have punched stitch holes all around the edges and along the top, these are to hold the vinyl into place but are decorative too. I’ve glued the handle into position with decorative leather pieces to hold the D-rings.

Pic 26a : During the stitching along the top.

Pic 27 : Another angle.

Pic 27a : Here you can see the stitching around the edges and the handle in place. now for the inside.

Pic 28 : You can see here the two ‘dividers’ stitched into the case and with decorative stitching around the edges. these can either lie flat as seen here or can be pulled up and placed between thebowls to protect them.

Pic 29 : this initials tag will be fitted later but this shows where it will go.

Pic 30 : All that remains to be done is to coat the whole thing in Effax leather balm and then buff to a shine,

Pic 31 : and Pic 32 : All done, one new useable and..even if I say so myself, a good looking leather bowls case.

Pic 32 : Well, I finally got to it, sorry about that, I hope you can understand, it’s been a very hard few years, we lost both my parents, two aunties and 2 cousins all close together, but leathercraft is a fantastic hobby for distracting the mind and I am so glad to be back, thanks for waiting. I have a new project starting in the next day or so..I am making a set of saddle bags hopefully to fit on my new motorbike, I will be making a video of the build as I go along and once done and edited I will put it up on youtube under Shamancraft projects so it would be great if you guys could check out my other vids..only a few at the moment but every like and subscribe etc helps me to build on it and each vid gets longer and better as I gain experience. thanks for your support. See you on the next one..watch this space and as always..Stay Crafty.

[anon-rebel-writes]

Of Pink Fairies and Teenage Boys - 1

Hello everyone! I hope you are having a fantabulous day!

This concept is a little strange, but it gets better the more chapters come out! Hopefully the weirdness doesn’t freak anyone out too much XD

The idea was basically just Marinette being a fairy and Luka kinda being in love with how adorable she is. But now it’s a story about Marinette slowly helping him out with different aspects of his life.

I intended this story to be a slow burn, but I’m impatient so it’s going to be five chapters! :D

I hope you all enjoy this piece! It starts under the cut! Ao3 Link

The hot summer rays pierced into the porthole of his cabin. Light danced across his floor in a rich orange hue as the sun set for the day. The divider in the middle of the room was closed off as soft shuffling came from the other side of the wall.

Luka sat on his bed holding his guitar tightly in his hands - the knuckles turning white with from the pressure. His teeth were clenched and his jaw seemed tense. While this was far from normal, lately Luka was finding it hard to keep his usual calm demeanor.

School was officially out for the summer. Most kids were spending it at the pool or with friends, unfortunately Luka Couffaine was not most kids. He saw his mom working longer hours and coming home later than average. While Anarka wasn’t a woman to complain, he saw how not even her bright attitude could outshine the stress.

Luka decided to help out by taking on extra shifts at his delivery job. The money wasn’t crazy, but it could definitely help his mom out. At the end of the day, he just wanted to make her life easier, even if the extra work made his shoulders a little tighter.

His band, Kitty Section, also thought of increasing their practice times. His sister, Juleka, and their drummer, Ivan, wanted to change rehearsal from once a week, to twice a week. It seemed great for them since neither worked or had much to do during summer break, but Luka found himself worn thin from all the extra playing.

Even now, he found himself cringing slightly at the guitar in his hands. When did music become such a chore? All these thoughts continued to plague his mind as his left hand silently fingered different riffs and notes while his right hand merely tapped along the body of the instrument. It wasn’t hard to see that Luka was in a funk. Usually a bit of meditating would help him relax, but miniature distractions always seemed to pull him out of it. They tended to come from his sister, since she usually sat across from his side of the room.

But Luka didn’t want to blame her, it wasn’t her fault. Luka found himself easier to blame. She was just trying to enjoy her free time, it was summer after all. Yet every time she faintly hummed a tune or tapped her desk, he found himself tensing up and feeling frustrated.

The light outside finally left his room and soft snores were heard through the barrier. He barely felt himself moving as he placed the guitar back on its rack. A shaky breath left him as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair. Nothing was working anymore, time seemed to drag on and yet move so fast. When was the last time he worked on his hair? The strands covered his eyes more each day with the blue dye slowly growing out.

He quietly moved off of his bed to change into something more comfortable for sleep. Luka threw on an old band shirt and some red flannel pajama pants. But staring back at his bed, he felt restless. The corners of his eyes felt watery and he held his arms tightly.

Luka didn’t regret any of the stress. He was doing it for his family. It didn’t matter how exhausted he was after riding his bike all day. It didn’t matter that he could barely keep his eyes open during band practice. The only thing that mattered was that he was helping them.

He took a deep breath before trying to shake off the negative feelings. As Luka moved across his cabin towards the bed, the porthole next to his bed swung open, letting in a huge gust of wind. He instinctively tried to shield himself from anything that could fly inside, but nothing but warm air filled the room. After the initial shock, he moved over to the window and closed it tightly again. He looked over at the divider and listened carefully to make sure Juleka didn’t awaken.

Muffled snoring continued to sound out behind the barrier and he felt a small wave of relief flush over him before a soft voice whispered in his left ear, “Wow you look just like your picture.”

At least Juleka was a heavy sleeper so she couldn’t hear the girlish shriek that came from him. Luka jumped away from the voice, falling onto the ground next to his amp. His head turned towards the source of the voice and he saw a little bug flying where his ear was. But it wasn’t a bug, it was a lot larger than a typical bug. Squinting his eyes, he saw that the ‘bug’ looked like a human girl with wings.

“What. The hell.”

The little flying girl attempted to move towards him, but seeing as Luka cowered into the corner of the room in fear, she stopped herself. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m such a klutz, I don’t wanna mess this up already…”

Luka’s eyes were popping out of his head as he stared at her, trying to rack his brain around whether he had passed out earlier and just forgot. He was tired after work today, surely this must all be a dream. But the little fluttering person continued to ramble, the more she talked, the more Luka realized that this may be real. The bug-person-girl was speaking about an assignment, but then she started waving her arms around, gesturing to him and then her. Luka honestly tried to focus on her words, but her wings were loud and the buzzing sound grabbed his full attention.

“-So that’s basically the situation. Do you understand, Monsieur Couffaine?”

He definitely heard that. How did she know his name already? The girl saw his disoriented expression and sighed, “You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?” He nodded his head and attempted to shuffle closer to his bed, trying to find anything to ground himself.

The girl slowly moved towards him as he finally sat back on the soft surface of his bed. Sitting there was supposed to help him back to reality, but the fabric definitely felt real and not like something he’d feel in a dream. His stomach was knotting and suddenly he felt lightheaded. The flying girl-person-bug perched herself on his guitar and waited for him to settle down. After pinching himself a couple of times to make sure he was awake, he nodded over to her. She gave him a big smile and lifted a hand to him.

“I’m Marinette, your own personal fairy!”

Luka leaned towards her with a finger held out to shake her hand back. Now that he was closer, he could see her a lot better. The girl, Marinette, was surrounded in a soft pink glow. She wore a dress made from varying hues of pink petals. The dress was pulled together on her waist by a small string that tied into a bow behind her. Her hair pulled back into a bun on the top of her head, also tied with string. He squinted and saw that she actually had little feet, and those feet had toes. Which was a very strange thing to be amazed by, considering that she just told him she was a fairy.

In all honesty, despite the strange scenario, Luka found his face burning at her adorable outfit. Which was also a strange thing to think about, because she just told him she was a fairy. “Okay, wow. I have like- a million things going through my mind right now. I’m gonna need a minute-”

A loud snore echoed through the room, interrupting his words. Marinette let go of his finger and both of them went rigid. After what felt like an eternity of waiting to see any signs of Juleka waking up, the fairy flew towards Luka’s face to bring his attention back to her. “Wow. Your sister’s a deep sleeper! Even after your girly scream!” Luka should totally be offended. He should be, but honestly his ego was the least of his concerns.

“Yeah, Jules...she’s good at- I guess- sleeping? I’m sorry, I can’t really focus on her when you’re literally a fairy.”

Marinette let out a soft laugh that oddly sounded sweet, chirpy, and cute. Wait, why was he thinking she was cute?! Not cute. She was not cute. Even if her cheeks were rosy and her hair looked soft and- oh my god why is he thinking like this.

“Well, I guess I should re-explain myself, right? I’m a fairy. We are magical beings here to help humans out when they feel sad. Every fairy is assigned a human to watch over and take care of. After the human is happy again, we wipe our existence from their mind and they go on with their lives. Sounds like a good deal, right?”

While in theory that made sense (honestly it didn’t because up until this point Luka was one-hundred percent sure that fairies weren’t real), he couldn’t help but feel mystified. “Okay...I have so many questions.”

Another chirpy (and cute) giggle came from her and she landed next to him on his bed. “Lucky for you, I may have some answers!”

Luka slowly nodded his head as he watched her walk around his blanket. She honestly couldn’t have been longer than the length of his hand, so seeing her move around really gave him odd feelings, more so than before. “So...Fairies are real?”

Marinette laughed again as she began climbing on his lap. “Yup! We used to roam around in the open, but some awful humans began using us for our magic. Now we hide ourselves and help humans secretly!” Luka looked down at the fairy and saw she began rubbing herself around the hem of his shirt. This was definitely strange. Even if this happened to be a dream, he probably shouldn’t be imagining a fairy rubbing her face against his stomach, right? “Uh- What’re you doing?”

She met his eyes and flew up to his face again. “Sorry, it’s just been so long since I felt such nice fabric. I’ve always wanted to wear cute clothes like you humans do! Your shirt is so soft!”

Not only was he stuck with a mythical creature, but he was stuck with a cute one that happened to enjoy rubbing her face on him. Trying to push any weird thoughts out of his mind, Luka nodded his head and tried to look anywhere else but her. She seemed to sense his uncomfortable aura because she backed away from him and sat on the edge of his porthole. “Why don’t you go to bed, Monsieur Couffaine. I’ll answer all your questions in the morning, okay? A good night’s rest will help get your brain back in working condition!”

Luka looked at Marinette and saw her illuminated by her pink glow and the moonlight. His heart felt like her wings for a moment, but he shook his head to get rid of any strange feelings and stood up. Marinette watched his movements as he walked towards his dresser again and grabbed his blue hoodie.

Her head tilted to the side as she watched him fold it into a small bundle. He walked towards his bed and laid the hoodie onto his amp. Luka looked down timidly at the floor in an effort to avoid her gaze. “I just- I thought a hoodie might be nicer than the window.”

Marinette gave him a soft smile and fluttered back over to his head. She pressed her face into his cheek and then dove into the makeshift bed.

This had to have been a dream. There was no way a fairy just kissed his cheek. Luka found himself a bit dazed at her gesture, so he decided to lay on his bed to try and get some rest. Although with all the adrenaline coursing through his body, he doubted he would sleep for the next week.

At least that’s what he thought before strange dust appeared over his head and his eyes suddenly felt heavier. He glanced over at the nightstand and saw the fairy’s hands twirling in the air out of the hoodie, producing the dust that fell over him.

While this could all be a hallucination due to the lack of sleep he’s been getting lately, he found himself faintly longing for this to not be a dream. A tiny part of him wanted to believe that this could actually be real. But all those thoughts were for tomorrow, right now his body was focused on finally pulling him into slumber. For the first time in a while, Luka found himself peacefully sleeping with a tiny part of him excited for tomorrow.

[sabraeal]

A Home Between Two Breaths

[He Who Fell in the Sea | Read on Ao3]

The snow starts just out of Luidas– big, thick flakes. A dusting, at first; they settle on Miss’s hair like fine lace, melting before she can brush them off. But now the horses wade through the drifts, nickering with displeasure when snow crumples beneath their hooves. His own coat sags, a thick, wet film against his skin, but Miss–

Well, Miss sits snugly beneath a bridled pelt, one hand absently brushing along the edge. His chest tingles with every sweep of her fingers, a shiver trembling down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold. Her heat’s been his constantly companion these past few hours, keeping him warm and wary long past when his own coat abandons him. But the colder he gets, well, the more he’s tempted to stop, to haul up to one of the inns they pass and see if they can’t generate their own heat between them.

His teeth grit down, jaw aching. If only he could bring himself to love a woman whose heart wasn’t already spoken for, given to a man who could keep her warm with far more than just the pelt off his back.

Still, taking shelter isn’t a bad idea, not when there’s no telling how long the storm will last. Lamps burns brightly in the distance, up the hill but not too far. He remembers the place; it’s not one of their usual stops– too close to the checkpoint to bother with, mostly made more for lords with carriages and delicate constitutions to care for. Pricey, and with the weather, the innkeep will be sure to wring them for more than two beds are worth, but, well–

He’s going to go crazy if she doesn’t stop petting him like this. Obi tugs at his reins, bringing himself up alongside Miss. Their knees don’t knock– he’s too careful a rider for that, even if she’s not– but he’s close enough to be heard over the howling winds. “We should stop.”

A contemplative pout settles on her cold-stung lips; she’s doing the complex calculations he’d mulled over moments ago. It’s not quite dusk– on a fairer day, they’d be on the road for another hour or two at least– but with the storm only growing stronger at their backs…

“It’ll get worse before it gets better.” The darkening sky hangs heavy overhead, only adding a more dire edge to his warning, but Miss’s jaw still sets stubbornly, the I can keep going loud in her silence. “We should think of the horses.”

“Oh!” She frowns down at her mare’s mane, snow tangling in the long, frozen ropes its settled into, and nods. “Of course. Is there some place near?”

His cowl is raised, covering his lips, but he smothers his smile, just in case. Miss might press on past wisdom if it were only herself she had to worry about, but bring the horses into it…

“Just there.” He points, voice struggling against the wind. “Up on the rise. Hopefully they’ll have two rooms ready to go.”

Miss coughs, ducking her head to cover it. Her next words are mumbled, lost in the wool of her scarf and the roar of the storm, but the winds twist and turn as they press on and he could swear–

Well, he could swear he hears, “We could do with less.”

“Two rooms,” Miss says, trying to raise her voice over the din. They’re far from the only weary travelers escaping the storm; the common room is packed wall-to-wall with boisterous custom, their coats damp but spirits as warm as the brew in their mugs. “If you please.”

“I do.” The innkeep’s round-faced, cheery, but with enough height to convey that she could, if pressed, handle rowdy customers right to the door. The kind of woman Obi would like, if her smile wasn’t already saying exactly what he didn’t want to hear. “But I’m afraid we’ve only got the one left. Busy night, you know.”

“Two beds?” he asks, already knowing the answer. If Master had been with them, three would have appeared from thin air with rooms to keep them. But with just a court herbalist and a knight, the only title between them a friendship to the wrong crown–

“One.” The innkeep’s kind enough to offer a sorrowful smile. “A nice one, though, if I do say so myself.”

A slender finger traces down his chest, as if there were not three layers of clothes and a safe distance between them, and he yelps out, “A cot?”

“‘Fraid not.” The innkeep brushes some flour off her apron, brusque yet strangely sympathetic at the same time. “All spoken for. You’re hardly the only ones who’ve had to make due with less than you came in wanting.”

Still that finger runs, collar to breast, following the length of his sternum. It should be lulling, comforting, but instead he just– “Maybe there’s space in the barn?”

Miss’s hand stills, eyes too wide, too green as she peers up at him. He can’t bear to look, not when he’s in danger of losing himself in them. The last time they’d been in the room with a bed–

Well, there’s a reminder twitching right against his thigh about that. “I’m not above a good night in the hay.”

The innkeep’s brows lift in amusement. “Full up to the manger.”

His sigh hollows him out, leaving him to slouch over the remains of his chest. “I could–”

“We’ll take it,” Miss says, stepping up in front of him. The dir glitter in her palm as she lays them on the counter. “The room, that is. And the bed.”

Obi lets out a plaintive whine, lost in the noise. “Extra blankets?”

The innkeep smiles at him, wide and wry. “Now that I can do.”

After all his years on the road, Obi considers himself a connoisseur of lodging. A adept of accommodations. A man who knows what a coin might bring him, greasing the right palm. Someone who speaks the lingo, one might say.

So when a proprietor of sleeping arrangements says one bed, he knows there’s a connotation to that. One bed, of course, but enough mattress to be shared between two. The sort of thing where one could divide between the pillows and trust that, without a very adventurous sleeper on the other side, he could expect to wake up undisturbed.

This is not that.

“Well,” Miss murmurs, taking a ponderous step into the room. “There certainly is…one.”

He’s seen bigger in the garrison. It’s only a little wider than a standard cot– meant to fit one and half maids, if only so the help might feel kingly for a night as well–

“Ah, isn’t that just our luck, Miss.” Obi lets out a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a swan song. “In an inn full of lordly accommodations, we get…the servant’s quarters.”

Another room might have a sofa, a chaise, or, failing that, a hard-backed chair that he could at least make a credible attempt at sleep in. But this– this is a room meant for sleeping, not entertaining. At least, not if he wasn’t planning on doing it horizontal.

Which he isn’t. Not at all. That’s not what’s happening here. Between them. Ever. No matter what happened before. Master may not be here now, but Obi won’t forget him.

Again.

“It’s fine,” Miss blusters, as if he can’t hear her voice squeak up at the top of her range. “We’ll make do.”

She draws herself up, utilizing every scant inch, and officiously scurries over to the edge of the mattress, giving it the sort of calculating stare generals leveled on fields of battle. With a steeling breath, her shoulders lift, and in a smooth motion, toss his pelt wholesale onto the covers.

The wind knocks out of him, for more than one reason. “I was going to use that.”

“You are going to be using it,” she agrees primly, letting her own cloak fall, sopping, in to her arms. “In the bed. Tonight.”

His mouth works as she crosses to the one ladder-backed chair that the room provides, spreading the wet wool across it. “I was going to sleep on the floor.”

The gaze she turns to him may be wide-eyed, but it’s knowing too, braced. This isn’t a misunderstanding, it’s a negotiation. “Why would you do that? It’s freezing, Obi.”

Again, his mouth can only open and close, words picked up and quickly abandoned in his search for something other than, don’t you remember? Or worse, how could you forget?

He couldn’t, not when he’d spent the night staring up at a ceiling he hardly remembered the pattern of, listening to the soft lull of Master’s breath and wondering why, why he has to ruin everything he touches. It would be better if he listened to the songs of his sisters, letting them guide him back to the sea, pelt wrapped around him and life brought back to the simple sensation of the water against his fur–

But he’d miss her. And he can control himself just fine, as long as there’s some space between them. Which there won’t be if they’re in that bed together, his skin covering them as one body.

“I just–” he flounders under her inquisitive confusion; it doesn’t help that she’s taken off her dress as well, left in only in her underthings, every shapely curve bared to him– “it would be best.”

Miss’s fingers still on her stays, head cocked, considering. Her gaze sweeps from the pelt on the bed to her own state of undress, hesitating a moment before she takes in his position against the door.

With a long, thoughtful breath, she exhales a very firm, “No.”

“No?” His mouth works, at a loss, and she takes the opportunity to place a single, bare leg on the mattress, right along his spine. Hell, that is making it a little hard to breathe, let alone think. “That is my skin, you know.”

“And you’re going to be using it,” she informs him, unimpressed, as she drags another tantalizing calf beneath her, warmth radiating along his back. It’s the last thing he needs when she’s got that stubborn pout on her lips. “You can’t sleep on the floor, Obi. Even with seal skin, you’ll freeze.”

He’s lived in water colder and darker than nights like these, dove into deeper currents than the Lilias’s winds could ever drop, but it’s impossible to explain to that to Miss, who has only this one, soft skin. The kind that is begging him to touch it with his own, to press her between his pelt and his body, and–

“I have extra blankets,” he mutters dumbly, thrusting them out in front of him like they might ward off her arguments. It’s a weak volley, a desperate measure to avoid the inevitable rout, and she deflects it with barely more than a dubious glance.

His shoulders slump, wet fur sopping around his neck. By the victorious glint in Miss’s eyes, she doesn’t miss the moment of his defeat.

“Your should take off your coat, at least,” she tells him, so innocent. “It’d be no good for you to come to bed wet.”

Obi can’t, unfortunately, argue with her logic. He lays his shield down, the thick quilts the innkeep pressed on him falling in a slumped pile against the footboard. And with a sweep of his arms, the first of his armor falls as well, arranged flat on hearth’s screen.

It’s a relief to be rid of its damp weight; warm as it is, another creature’s fur sits strangely on him, as if his body wants to take its shape as well. And when it’s almost clinging to him, dripping sweat and ice down his spine– well, it’s a new layer of discomfort.

His boots follow, stockings soon after, though their removal is another battle, the wool sticking to every inch. When his feet finally press bare to stone– ah, the cold seeped through him more than he’d thought. For all his talk, his soles stretch against its ambient warmth and, oh, how they burn. Maybe Miss was right about sleeping on the floor; as a seal, his blubber would protect him, but as a man–

Well, he certainly lacked a certain sleekness over these bones. It was easier to forget now that he was allowed both.

Obi hesitates, thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pants. They were wet too– damp at the knees and clinging to his thighs at parts– but still��

“Are you coming to bed?” Miss inquires, muffled. He glances back, and there she is, smothered in blankets, radiating warmth along his back. “It’s warm in here.”

The smart thing would be to take his blankets and suffer as best he could by the fire. Or take the invitation but keep the clothes, hoping they would dry in the warmth of the blankets. But Obi–

Well, Obi hadn’t ended up on shore by being more clever than bold. He strips down to his skivvies, laying his clothes beside Miss’s on the stone. It left him far from naked– his woolens might leave little to the imagination, but they were still as thick and warm as his pelt– but the way Miss watches him–

Maybe he should risk the floor.

He shakes himself. Too late to change his mind now.

Soft fur tickles his hands as he slips into bed beside her, Miss extending from a pleasant, abstract warmth along his back, to a present, insistent heat along his side. It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

“Beneath?” he manages after a moment. “I thought you enjoyed it as a blanket.”

“We have plenty of those.” Her eyes glitter guilelessly in the dim, fingers stroking the pelt in mindless, soothing circles. “Having it under us will stop any heat from escaping through the mattress. Like a little oven!”

“Oh,” he murmurs, watching her fingers carve runnels through his fur. “Smart.”

“I thought so,” she says with no little pride. “Blow out the lamp?”

He nods, reaching over to turn the wick down, watching the flame gutter behind the glass. Even when it’s out, the fire keeps a low, merry glow, and beneath his shirt–

“Oh!” The cord lies tangled in his chain, tag and stone knotted together in a way that takes a good moment of patience and another of dexterity to sort out. Still, it’s easy work, and with a few quick loops he lifts it over his head, stone pulsing gently in the dark. “Here you go.”

He’s seen his miss in firelight, but the stone’s glow does something to the shape of her face, to the round of her eye. In her hushed awe, it’s as if he’s never seen her before. “This…?”

“Sorry I borrowed it for so long.” Her gaze darts to his, and he can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking the same. “Thanks for lending it to me.”

“Ah!” Her fingers reach, plucking the cord from his grasp, an infinite amount of stones glittering in her eyes. “The stone! Did you–?” She hesitates, mouth rounding around words she doesn’t say. “Did you use it for something?”

He’d hung it on a darker night than this, moon blotted out by thick, reaching branches, but as it swings in her grip, a slow, pendulous spin– well, it’s hard not to think of the shadow that approached. How confidently the assassin had slipped through the trees, fleet and sure-footed as any night creature. And then for him to pull up short, surprise writ large in those dark, fearful eyes–

“It would be a good reference point,” Miss presses, breathless. “For the future.”

He huffs out a laugh, head dropping onto the pillow. Ah, yes, he can see it now. Uses: luring assassins out of hiding. “I don’t think it’ll be much help to any of you scholars, but it worked perfectly when I used it.”

The crystal sets her face into harder angles; her cheeks sit sharp, carved from marble, and her jaw settles into a contemplative pout. It’s not answer enough, he knows, not for her, but she’s never been one to push, not even when she held a pelt in her hand.

“I’d say it was thanks to that thing that I made it to Master’s side in time.” Her eyes turn to him, wide, but it’s the least he can give her, when she’s put both his freedom and her trust into his bloodied hands. “And I was also able to pass on Mitsuhide’s message.”

“Because of this?” She cradles the stone in her hand, tender, but it’s him that she turns to, satisfaction curling her lips. “So it was helpful? I mean– it was worth having?”

“Of course.” If his grin is easy, it’s only because he’s so practiced at giving it. At least, instead of kissing her. “It would have been worth having just because it gave it to me. The rest was gravy, Miss.”

Her sigh is heavy, contented, the tension eking out of her shoulders with each second that passes until she’s settled fully into the pillow’s soft down.

“Obi?” He almost doesn’t catch her soft hum, muffled as it is. But one of her hands has dropped between them, fingers gently stroking in those small, soothing circles, and even part of him is attuned to every molecule of air in this room, if only because there doesn’t seem to be enough. “Come over here?”

He rolls up onto his elbow, so close a deep breath might make them touch if he weren’t careful. But he is. Always. “Hm?”

In a single, smooth swoop, she loops the cord right around his neck. “Eh–?”

Her smile is too much, mischief honing it sharper than any other knife he’s taken between his ribs. He hardly even feels the stab. “I bequeath this to you.”

“Eh?” he tries again, fingers plucking at the leather, since she clearly didn’t hear him the first time.

“I want you to have it.” Her gaze settles where it dangles between them, and he’s not ready for how his chest tightens with the softening of her smile. “If it was helpful to you at Sereg, I’d like you to keep it.”

He stares. But it’s precious, he nearly says, but it’s no use, not when he can’t survive her inevitable answer, the one clear in her eyes already–

So are you, Obi.

“Miss.” His voice doesn’t sound like his own, stilted and too low. “A while back, you asked about this scar.”

The neck of his woolens swoops low enough for a ragged edge to peep through, stark white against the shadow of his skin. He hooks a finger round it still, pulling it lower until he can feel the meat of that gnarled ruin against the tip of his fingers. In the pale light of the stone, he can see the way her eyes fix to it, body tense beside his.

“I never cared about getting injured.” The dark loosens his lips better than any bottle. “Or coming back. There wasn’t–” he licks his lips, only a wry smile left behind– “there wasn’t any point.”

Why worry about this strange skin when no matter how well he performed for them, his masters would never yield his reward. His pelt always laid under lock and key, a carrot and stick both: a well done job held the hope of seeing a glimpse of it, a chance to snatch it from their grasp; and a failed one–

Well, there were so many accidents that could happen to a beautiful pelt like this one. Fire. Scissors. A blade.

Obi might not have cared what happened to this body, but he could never return to his sisters with the proof of this life etched upon his skin,

His fingers clench in his fur. “Didn’t really see it as a drawback.”

The stone’s glow isn’t enough to illuminate the whole of Miss’s face, so he doesn’t so much see her jaw work as feel it, her restraint dragging her teeth down with a soft click. Her urge to speak is palpable, drawing the space between them to a taut thread but–

But Miss has always had that sense, the kind good healers always did, of when a wound needed salve or stitching, and when it just…needed to breathe. Which is what she does, muscles melting into the mattress beneath her, her fingers picking up those slow, soothing circles over his fur. If all this feeling is a festering poison, well– he needs to get it all out himself.

“I lived like that for a long time.” The words leave him on a sigh, back stretching into her touch, wrong skin as it is. “But then when I came back, and I saw your face…”

The memory burns brighter than the stone in his eyes; even now he can picture the way she stood, half turned toward him, fingers flexed in disbelief. The way steam had rose from her rounded mouth, clouding the air between them. How she had run, falling just short of being in his arms–

– and how she’d just narrowly missed the same later, her nails dragging through his pelt, jaw slack–

Ah, that’s really not what he should be thinking about now. Not when she’s pressed so tight against him.

“All I could think,” he rasps, meeting the dark evergreen of her eyes, “was how glad I was that I didn’t get seriously injured. So I could…”

Come back to you. He can’t make the words leave him; it’s too much, too far, but Miss–

She hears them anyway. Her breath catches, hand flexing flat on his pelt, a brand against his spine.

“So,” he breathes, heart pounding in his throat, “I guess I’m– haah.”

His hips jerk hard as his miss rakes runnels slowly down his spine. Every inch of his skin shivers, hair and teeth on edge, and it’s definitely…good. Too good for what he’s trying to say.

“You’re being distracting.” The warning rumbles out of him, and even to his own ears, it sounds more promising than scolding.

Miss hums, too innocent, too interested. “Should I stop?”

She does, as a demonstration.

“No!” He coughs, glad there’s no possible way she can see the heat slapped across his cheeks. “I’m just trying to–” have a serious conversation– “and you’re–” making it hard– “it’s hard enough, talking like this, when we’re on…”

Me. He can’t say that either, not when she’s looking up at him so guilelessly, eyes wide and uncomprehending.

“I think,” he grits out, finally, “that maybe I haven’t properly explained the, ah, connotations of touching…that.”

Her eyelashes flutter in the dark. “You like it, don’t you?”

“Yes.” It hisses out of him, not enough but also entirely too much. “A lot. More than I think you–”

“I almost made you…” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and oh, how he wishes that were him. “Ah…come?”

He jerks, hands clenching in his fur to keep him still, keep him grounded. More than ‘almost,’  he nearly says, but even he isn’t so foolish. “You did.”

“Obi.” She squirms dangerously close, near enough that his cock, already hard, twitches like a mutt on a leash. “I am laying on it.”

Obi blinks, confused, but it comes to him– either keep your hand on the pelt, or lay on it.

Now his face burns. He’d said that, control hanging by a thread. Broken so effortlessly by her fingers in his hair.

“I…” His mind is blank, every thought static, but he manages, “I just wanted…”

She really, really doesn’t need to look so invested in what he wants. Not when he’s already flirting so closely with the shore.

He clears his throat. “I just wanted to say, I’ve come back.” To you is too dangerous to say. “I’m…home.”

Her chest rises in a long, hopeful breath, gaze fixed to him.

“Obi,” she breathes, laying her hand on his cheek. “Welcome home.”

He watches as her eyes flutter, heavy-lidded to half-mast, as her lips just barely part, chin angling upward, and– and on any other woman he’d know what that means. On any other woman he’d close this space between them, show her just what this man’s body could do, if he asked it, but with her–

It’s impossible. How can he fill the place Master already occupies?

He should move; he should roll back onto his side and leave her to do the same; he should know better than to have let them get this close again. “Miss–”

Her fingers sliding from the angle of his cheek into the bristle of his hair, and static sparks over the surface of his skin, chasing through his veins, curling his toes, filling him up until there’s nothing left but to ground himself at the source. He’s never been able to resist her, anyway.

He reaches for her, palm gently cupping the back of her head, but she reaches for him too, pulling him to her, and when their lips meet it’s not gentle. It’s no princely kiss, oh no, but hungry mouths needing to devour, tearing a groan from him that belongs to neither of his bodies but a different animal entirely.

She’s not close enough, not even when she rises up on her own side, pushing their bodies flush together, only cloth keeping them from the delicious friction he craves. He wants her, the proof of it obvious and hard against her hip now, but she doesn’t shy, only bucks into it, making sparks trail up his spine, behind his eyelids–

“Miss,” he tries again, but there’s nothing more to say, not when she squirms up him, pressing her lips even more fully against his. Nothing more to think when she scrapes her nails so deliciously over his scalp, moaning into his mouth.

His palm grips her hip, hard enough for him to swallow a gasp as he rolls her under him, aligning them the way they both want– at least, Miss doesn’t seem to be complaining, not when her legs wrap around his his, dragging him to her. She doesn’t complain when his tongue tests the gap between her lips, when he slips it inside her mouth entirely, and–

It’s not close enough, not when it’s never felt so right, when her body molds to fit his to perfectly. When even now he can feel her both above and below, his own skin calling to him in a way that it never has before, like he might wrap him and her in it both–

“Miss,” he moans, twisting his head away. It’s the only thing that keeps her from following him. “We should–we should stop.”

She blinks up at him, and even in the glow of the stone between them, her eyes are dark. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No.” He can’t imagine how she could think that, with his cock twitching against the curve of her hip. “I…you’re perfect.”

He can feel her breath catch beneath his ribs, as if it were his own, and oh, they are too close to be having this conversation. Still, he can’t bear to pull himself away, not when she bites her lip so anxiously and asks, “If you tell me what to do, I could–”

“No, Miss, it’s not–” he coughs, glad she can’t see his face– “I’m very, very interested in continuing…this.”

Her head tilts, curious, as are the fingers creeping beneath the hem of his shirt. “Then why do we have to stop?”

That’s becoming a more pressing question with every stroke of her fingers. “I’m just…” He licks his lips, mouth dry as they drift closer to his spine. His actual spine, not just…by proxy. “Maybe this isn’t something we should jump into this with both feet.”

“Ah.” Her smile is soft in the stone’s light, playful. “Do selkies get cold feet?”

A laugh huffs out of him. “We get nothing but.”

Her palm presses like a brand against his spine, drawing a low groan from his lips. “But you’ve always been so warm, Obi.”

“You are making a good case, Miss,” he admits, his hips rolling without his permission. It takes a concerted effort not to try to get Miss to repeat the noise she makes. “But I– I don’t know how this works.”

She stares, incredulous.

“I mean, obviously I know how to light fires. And tend to them,” he rumbles, pressing a kiss to her neck. “But I mean, the rest. With my…” He lets out a huff, frustrated. “I wasn’t old enough when I was…”

When he was taken from his sisters. It seems like the wrong time to be bringing up family when Miss is rubbing her bare leg against his. “I don’t know what this means, when I feel like this.”

“Obi?” Miss blinks, still beneath him. Her fingers trace the scar across his chest. “What do you feel?”

“A lot.” The admission bothers him more than he would like. “More than with…anyone else.” His breath hisses between his teeth, and finally he manages, “It’s never felt good when someone touches my pelt before.”

“Oh.” Her mouth rounds, and oh, how he wishes that were more of an invitation than it was. “Only…?”

He nods, cheeks burning. “Only you.”

“Ah.” Her palm flexes against his back. “So maybe…slower?”

“Yes,” he sighs, relief making his body sag. “ I just don’t know–” what this means– “what I can give you.”

“Obi…” He fingers trace those smooth, soothing circles, only this time on his skin. “You’re more than enough for me.”

“But I…”

“Don’t borrow trouble, Obi.” Her steady hands guide him beside her, fingers fanning out over his expanding ribs. “We don’t need to worry about tomorrow until the dawn. As long as I have you, we’ll take the days as they come.”

Miss squirms close, head resting on his chest, arm thrown tightly over him. “Goodnight, Obi. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

A breath shudders out from him. “Goodnight, Miss.”

Her breath evens into sleep, so quickly he might laugh, it not for–

For the way his pelt tempts him, for the way the night wind calls. Even now, Miss in his arms, he hears the song of his sisters, smells the salt of the sea.  

As long as I have you.

That’s exactly what he’s afraid of.

[sleep-write]

Life is overwhelming

I have felt it, right in the pit of my stomach

But I’m finally grieving for a life once known

A life I left behind without realising…

I’ve been on a journey that meant leaving a whole life behind… I never thought it would be a life I wouldn’t return to. So I didn’t stop to say farewell.

Now the farewells are necessary. I leave knowing I am taking a suitcase full of memories, strength & love with me to my next chapter. I leave remaining hopeful that I will bump into or be joined by familiar faces along the way, it doesn’t need to be a completely new life I’d like to think I can revisit a few chapters in a different light later down the line…

It’s scary and hurts so bad but its necessary to start a new chapter where I will hopefully learn to live with my grief and accept the bursts when they come rather than fight against it.

I miss my late relatives, I miss my old workplace, residents and colleagues, I miss my family and friends. I miss my old myself. I have given up so much and distanced myself from everything I once loved, in such a short space of time and I never ever let myself deal with it because… well, life went on. Life goes on doesn’t it? There’s little other options really.

I wish I had realised that whilst life goes on, it also speeds up. It’s easy to become entangled in a fast paced never ending cycle of day to day life. It’s easy to forget to slow down and let our engines rest. If a car was making the same journey - the pit stops for fuel are a necessity so why do we feel like a failure for taking time to just pause. And put life’s responsibilities on hold to refuel.

I’ve been learning to adapt my mindset by trying to acknowledge the positive thoughts I have, but it’s hard to push out the negative ones. It’s hard to rationalise the irrational.

Life is funny - it’s a constant divide between good and bad. Negativity and positivity. Light and dark. It’s up then it’s down, it’s easier to stay on flat ground than it is to tackle a mountain….

It’s easier to not care these days, people see it as the more popular option. But y’know what… it’s taken a lot for me to write this on here as I’m normally quite a reserved and private person but the world right now isn’t opening up enough. We are becoming such a reserved, judgemental society and it’s creating a very dark, sinister place to live. The atmosphere is changing and everyone is getting so bogged down.

Life is taking over… we’re forgetting how to just live. We’re forgetting to give and receive compassion, we’re losing our empathetic nature because we are letting the societal events influence our outlook and take on life.

We tear people down before we lift them back up. We help people for gratification and popularity or acknowledgment of others rather than for our own satisfaction. We don’t open up enough because we believe the world doesn’t care..

I hope my little spiel gives food for thought. For others to share and admit that they’re struggling. And not be ashamed to do so. Not be ashamed to reach out. To give themself credit for the obstacles they have overcome despite the many others facing their way. To be proud of themselves for surviving a really rough chapter that felt like it was never going to end. For doing all of that during a pandemic! For people to relax a little and check in - check in on friends and family. Check in on themself.

People need to know it’s okay to feel overwhelmed because life is hard right now and almost everyone will enter the same chapter, eventually. I would be surprised if there are people who evade it. Life’s hard, let’s make it a little softer.

So yes - I’m struggling but I’m also ok. I’m trying to make sense of the chaos and taking each day as it comes. I hope that others are doing the same.

Life’s full of small miracles we often overlook. It’s such a cliche but the small things really do count they are most definitely the big things we too easily rush past and ignore, but they are the first thing you will wish you had pressed pause for. The ones you wish you could rewind.

So as Mums favourite saying quotes:

“Whatever your labours and aspirations may be - in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy”

And … reach out? We’re all in this chapter together. We need to pave our way out together too❤️

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

*sequel* to actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

once again, it's out of context because x1000 funnier

also x1000 longer than previous post

"ur satan is gnc af"

"Bestie I’m already having gender envy over a fucking demon please"

"O_O ODEPIJHFbavevisdpvfhzdcnjawedsidjksjdkoeirjfmkdsoeirujdksodifjndmksoidfjdksidfj ITS" NOT IN MY FRAFTS IS SPEDNT 1 hour PN THAT SHIT"

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"ohoho sexy"

"I am very proud of myself"

"himbo x edgy fuck"

"YOU COULD SQUISH HES CHEECKS"

"he has teefs"

"SQUASH"

"good for biting 📷"

"he's a himbo basically"

"B͂̒̄iͫ̍̈tͧ̓ͯè̄̇"

"bifth"

"i havent watched blue exorcist in years but mr okumura my beloved </3"

"MY LIFE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED"

"is it important information to mention that the person i put up for my turn is the son of satan" "I know like 1 thing about everyone who isnt ranboo lmfao"

"crimes"

"tumblr sexyman"

"idk why but my first thought was cowboy onceler"

"I vibe with him but he is very long and twisty"

"steampunk e-girl"

"steampunk tumblr sexyman"

"Canonically bi crimelord I agree!!"

"OOO FRIEND SHAPED"

"ARTIST SIGHTED"

"they look like someone i would want to be friends with but is way cooler than me so i'd never actually talk to them"

"babby..... would die for him"

"honestly i probably kin him"

"i'm sure he's lovely but he looks way too much like my ex i'm sorry-"

"i'd be down for another rotation! i have another twink to show y'all"

"Also :00 blonde friend"

"Let us all infodhmo"

"Hsjagdvbs shhh im on phone"

"Nix woukd you like to joon?

"skitters away"

"I have two braincells and they both drink dumb bitch juice"

"oof wait whats the order again i have 0 memory"

"i want to bond with him over cosplay-"

"Awkwardly watches in band kid"

"One day I'm gonna a broadway star"

"which isnt to say they were bad. they were just fortnite dancing during rehersals"

"I threw it so hard my glasses flew off and slid under the stage right divider"

"anyway heres my boi"

"emo"

"haha emo"

"virgil sanders kinnie"

"he looks like he listens to my chemical panic at the fallout boy"

"Bro I bet he'd kick my ass with his deck"

"bird man my beloved"

"fuck i had so much to say and then i forgot it all"

"Birds!!"

"guiguhuh"

"crabrave"

"She sounds like someone I would end up stealing her personality"

"yess name collector gang"

"alias glass aiden haven absinthe fish brick rice"

"But I have Cypress, Remure, Genesis, Lemres, and Comet"

"And she's named after a mars candy bar bc alien"

"Hey, if plato went by plato, you can be king thief"

"im not dissing my gramma like that shfojd"

"My dad has seven legal names" "bitches be like *looks at fictional character* *steals their name* it's us we're bithces"

"coraline lowkey traumatized me but i adore it regardless"

"mmmmmm magic man :]"

"°0° green man"

"criminal (affectionate)"

"he would shoplift a candy bar from walmart and then brag to all of his friends about the sick stealing he did"

"despite the fact he's canonically been capable of overpowering a minor deity"

"i would commit so many crimes for him"

"Very babey"

"Yes please tell green man he is very pog"

"he also keeps a lot of dumb secrets"

"but I will sorely miss the chaos and energy of this here chat until I wake again" (by request XD)

"i just say words and if they're funny then they're funny"

"* or extremly chaotic either works"

"at this point we are just taking turns rambling"

"oH--"

"bc my brain has a schedule"

"Hopefully they have gyoza there or I will lose my mind"

"hehe yes spooky man"

"my ghost glucose guardian"

"the head of the undead group that lives there, and we end up dating. (yes I date a ghost, no I will not be taking constructive criticism /lh)"

"ghosts r just inherently sexy"

"i mean im becoming a squid thing so"

"Raven quirk raven quirk!!"

"ł â m p"

"łæmp"

"mothman: ooh lamp you look very nice today! do you come here often? mothman: wait shit no"

"I'd date a ghost"

"mine is still accurate, i am still sobbing (/j)"

"p e e p e e"

""@nick wilde is a tumblr sexyman" is the best thing i have ever seen"

"im sorry im cackling like a dying hyena"

"you're all 12 year olds"

"PEENIE"

"He once caused global warming on accident so he could get a tan"

"god, what a himbo. i love him"

"that reminds me of my friends kin assigned me jesus"

"Man outside of battle be like: princely crying but then in battle hes like: "CATACLYSM! DISASTER! DEVASTATION!" Chill out man"

"Every time I talk about satan it never fails to shock people it's my favorite thing to do"

"im kin assigning him roman sanders" ""Oh yeah he caused global warming because he wanted to get girls" "he what""

"oh damn i forgot satan was straight"

"twink appreciation club"

"give us the twinks"

"my first thought was bottom-"

"so many people to try and get his dad to love him"

"daddy issued"

"OH MY GOD ITS WILBUR"

"Big boy but"

"anyways janus is swagggg"

"........................."

"gib twink"

"give twink then i will share"

"holds him gentle like hamburger"

"This dumb bitch opened a book that said "do not open" and got possessed by a little bastard"

"he is. fragile creachur"

"klug is beauty klug is grace i would let him step on my face"

"If I'm playing swap and I have to hear one more "Pwanet Powew" Im gonna lose it"

"Who is to blame? Pandora or the box?"

"Bakugo isnt my type but I respect the drip"

"i say like my type isnt long-haired pretty boys and girls that look so gnc that people have a history of confusing them for men"

"hes a gremlin and i can appreciate a pretty gremlin"

"that is to say i am attracted to VFlower vocaloid. This is a confession."

"note i am a lesbian"

"You may like Schezo wegey"

"why does he have one single expression"

"soul soul eater passes the vibe check"

"magic wand"

"I Want To Hold His Hand"

"i would commit a war crime for him any war crime idc which one"

"my favorite one is when he sounded rlly gay because he said "Muscular bodies keep me satisfied""

"p e a n u t"

"Klug is a homophobic homosexual its just facts"

"grug from the croods is peak male performance"

"jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely."

"tag yourself im the fireworks shooting from the top of the head"

"i like essays"

"central time gang"

"11:11 pog-" (wait... is that a suprise angel number?? yes it is lovelies just for you <3)

"Then again im also a dumbass bitch who wonders what the souls in soul eater taste like. SERIOUSLY THOUGH. THEY LOOK TASTY AS HELL!!!! LIKE GODDAMN BRO YOU'RE MAKING ME FUCKING HUNGRY. Like. that shit- it's Bone Apple motherfucking Teeth. hell yea my guy. Im hongy now.... shlorp I'm seriously considering this. Like. They seem kinda like a liquid? But a solid? Are they like jello? The fuck they taste like my guy???? I keep imagining they're like sour, like sour candy maybe? Or do they taste salty? Sweet? Maybe some combo of two? Do they even have a taste or is it about the texture? The sensation? God my mouth is watering what the hell. I am starving. I think I need to go get a cookie. I'm gonna go get a cookie. Brb. I'm better. I'm still craving souls though. Which is a weird-ass cringey thing to say but I'm being dead-ass rn. They just.... look tasty???? And I wanna eat one. Thus. I am shifting to Soul Eater for the express purpose of satisfying my fucking cravings. enjoy"

"points were made"

"jello? more like helloooo schloooAHFJDSDAIDWNALDHSJKDAIDANDM"

"WAIT I THINK I HAVE AN ANIME GIRL BITING VIDEO TOO"

"anime girl voice: mmm! mm... ahhhhmp!! mmm, mmm... aaahmp!"

"i think it sounds great i'm going to start eating like that"

"several people are typing"

"do these look edible to you"

"forbidden gummies"

"when I was on lsd I couldn't eat my fruit gummies because I thought they were alive because they had little faces on them"

"oh shit yeah don't do drugs"

"anyways general consensus is puyos are edible, ty for your input everyone"

"everypony is a word so powerful it can bring nations to its knees"

"pls the self control it's taking me not to say "hewwo everypony" in gen chat when someone new joins-"

"hewwo evewrypony uwu deaw cewestia i hopwe it doewsnt wain owo"

"ive cooked up a sowution wiwth the knowwege ive acwued. they say a kitcwen time saves niwne, but im just savwing two. Ive gathewwed the inwedients to make a time sowbet. Thewe's hawdly woom fow seconds when the seconds mewt away."

"I had a ten year old sister... you know what happened to her??? very sad, very tragic... she turned eleven....."

"NIIICE"

"Guts dont say the secks word :( /j"

"watch your fucking language in front of the president"

"im so sorry lumi"

"i think you're like ehhhh 8/10 funny"

"now me???? 10/10. Hilarious"

"sometimes i have to take a step back and remember that this is the same guts i follow on tumblr /lh"

""ok every here's some good shifting advice!!! uwu have a good day" "yeah i did lsd and ate fruit gummies""

"i have one setting and it's whatever this is"

"my bitch ass cat just pushed the door open with his fuzzy face and now my sleeping dad is being lulled into dreams by Cosmo Sheldrake's 'Pliocine'."

"me on discord: nick wilde"

"me on tumblr: shifting water! haha funne! me on here: my hermit crabs are cannibals also i want to eat souls."

"im sorry yOUR VIBESA RE JUST SO DIFFERNT"

"u give off older cousin ive never spoken to but always admire at the family gatherings vibes"

"what the fuck"

"BC I HAVE LIBERTU"

"If you adopt me then yes"

"am I qualified for dad jokes???"

"we're all a lot smarter on tumblr"

"I'm like "awww... sweet... sweet little shiftlings... posting such sweet shiftling content... so pure, so wholesome... does not even know abcs....""

"can't think before you speak if you never think B)"

"I'm not responsible enough to be a mom"

"cat pet"

"show us pictures of the cat or i will do Crime"

"maybe thats me being a coward tho"

"MOTH!!!! MOTH MY BELOVED"

if y'all want I can make this a series bc shiftblr keeps giving me more content