#im a dog and i’m mean and sharp and vicious

[roman-roy-apologist]

i love you animal symbolism

[lemonysharkbait]

Code of the Hills

Tianshan fanfic, au set in the Ozark region of the U.S. 

“Where’s your partner Red?”Guan Shan reigned in his panic a second too late and Click ate it up with a shit eating grin. The pain when it came was delayed, one blessing of being too fucked to walk straight enough if he wanted to. Guan Shan spit a mouth full of blood straight into Click’s leering face. Guan Shan knew his eye would be swollen for a week. If he made it past tonight.

- Warnings: Drug use, violence, dirty cops, lots of cursing, angst -

Read on OA3 for more notes

Guan Shan lapped at the blood pouring from his nose. He couldn’t taste shit, not with his gums numb and Click telling him to take another bump.

“This is Grade A shit Red. Where’d you say you get it from ‘gain?”

Guan Shan took the offered bump – his third in the about fifteen minutes he had been with Click in this fucking dingy-ass laughable excuse for a backroom at the local watering hole. He hadn’t had this much coke in years and it was already fucking with him, just like Click wanted it to.

“Told you being a cop came with perks.” Guan Shan turned and hocked a wad of blood and snot onto the floor.

Click laughed and hit Guan Shan between the shoulder blades with an open-palmed slap that was just north of friendly. “Get this man a whiskey.”

“Did’n think you’d come back te this place Red.” 

Guan Shan nodded to the women who proffered him a whiskey and took a gulp.

“Ever the polite man. Sam’s got tits from here to tomorrow and you’re on better behavior than the priest during Sunday service.” Click dropped his voice “Ne’ver believed ‘em but you don’t do yourself no favors Red.”

Guan Shan sucked at his teeth. “Saving myself for Jesus.”

Click burst out into a laughing fit. “Got’ damn Red. You haven’t changed a bit.” He played with the bag of coke idly. “So you got more of this shit?”

“More and then some.” Guan Shan nodded and pulled out a cigarette. He could feel his fingers going unsteady and his words slurring, tongue refusing to cooperate. 

Click smiled and it was deadly. “Sure thing Red. Sounds like we have some stuff to talk about. Why don’t you come back with us? We’ll drive you.”

Guan Shan didn’t respond. Just lit his cigarette and let the group of good ‘ol boys half push, half pull him out of the backroom, bantering like old friends, smiling like sharks. He was manhandled out of the bar and into the dark parking lot, shoved into a truck and closed behind the thunk of American steel. 

-

He Tian sat nursing his beer. A tittering group out on a girl’s night tried to grab his attention for a little while but his best sad and broken act had them off and dancing. He was alone with those words playing through his head.

They’re gonna take me to the back. They won’t do anything at the bar so just go in a little while after me. Keep your damn head down. I mean it. No flirting, no stories, no chatting up the locals. No one can remember you were there. You need to be forgettable. Just wait and blend in. They’ll take me to Click’s place. 

Follow without them knowing. Shouldn’t be too hard, they’ll be fucked up and won’t be expecting you. Then it’s your call. I don’t know how many there will be. If you can get the situation under control, do it. But if not just leave me. Finding out where this guy is based is more important. 

They did come out, just like Guan Shan said. He Tian shrunk as best he could into the corner. Guan Shan’s copper eyes were bloodshot and he was stumbling. The group was rowdy, shoving him with a little too much joy. A cajoling on the sharp edge of vicious. A smear of blood decorated Guan Shan’s upper lip and his pupils were pinpoints.

He Tian waited until they were through the door before slipping out. He caught sight of Guan Shan being shoved into a beater pickup with truck nuts. Gritting his teeth, he willed himself to wait. It wouldn’t do Guan Shan any good to tip them off. 

The drive was easy, following the road as it dipped and rose, hemmed in by the thick woods broken only by sudden bursts of sheer white limestone breaking through at odd angles, ragged and proud. 

The moon was out and bright enough that He Tian could keep his headlights off and follow at a distance. They drove fast so it was easy to see they were turning when they slowed in a sudden tire-squealing crawl. The sides of their cars brushed the undergrowth creeping over everything.

So this was it. Asscrack of nowhere. Cicadas called out in an unending whine.

-

Guan Shan didn’t even try to catalogue where they were. He was too fucked up and anyways, Click was twitchy in a way that didn’t bode well for Guan Shan’s health.

They turned onto some hidden road and crawled through a winding path before the trucks stopped outside a meth den. The house was probably nice enough at one point. Dogs barked from somewhere and someone was yanking Guan Shan out of his seat. He was manhandled inside past a living room with a flickering TV into the kitchen. 

“Feel like home Red?”

Guan Shan grimaced. “Don’t see why you dragged me here for.”

Click laughed. “You can stop playing dumb boy. This is some goodass shit you brought me, so I’ll thank you for that little gift. But there’s no fucking way that’s what you came out here all the way into the goddamn boones for.”

Guan Shan let one of Click’s men pull his arms behind him and zip tie them together by the wrist. He was too tired and sideways feeling. If he was going to get the shit kicked out of him anyways he might as well cooperate enough to prolong the inevitable. 

“See’in as you aren’t saying nothing I’m gonna go out on a big-ass limb and say you agree?” Click said.

Guan Shan didn’t respond.

Click grunted out a laugh and kicked a metal chair over to Guan Shan. “Take a seat Red.”

With a hard stare fixed on Click, Guan Shan set his jaw and sat slowly.

“That’s a good boy. I didn’t think you’d go so easy. You’re either a complete dumbass or you have a death wish.” Click turned to the one guy who had followed them in, a big motherfucker bulked up from beers and red meat. “Tape ‘im down.” 

The brute grabbed a roll of duct tape off the gritty counter and dutifully taped each leg to a leg of the chair and ran a few around Guan Shan’s chest and the chair back for good measure. The rip of duct tape and a whining light filled a tense silence. 

It had been too long since he’d said something, but it was so hard to form words. The world swam and Guan Shan’s heart beat uncomfortably hard in his chest, urged to flutter faster than hummingbird wings by uppers that felt worse than one too many cups of coffee. 

Click walked forward and leaned in close, the smell of stale cigarettes hitting Guan Shan’s nostrils like a mule kick to the chest.

“Where’s your partner Red?” 

Guan Shan reigned in his panic a second too late and Click ate it up with a shit eating grin.

The pain when it came was delayed, one blessing of being too fucked to walk straight enough if he wanted to. Guan Shan spit a mouth full of blood straight into Click’s learing face. Guan Shan knew his eye would be swollen for a week. If he made it past tonight.

“Oh there it is. There’s our red-headed devil.” Click hacked out a deep laugh that turned into a coughing fit as he wiped the blood off his face with a black paisley handkerchief. Guan Shan glared as best he could and Click just leaned against the counter and lit a cigarette. Silence settled in.

“Bum me a square.” The words came gravely out of Guan Shan’s mouth but he was satisfied that his voice didn’t waver.

Click just laughed again, “I ain’t sitt’en here holding a smoke for you.”

“Gimme another bump then.”

Click’s expression turned sour. “You wanna be high for this Red? You’re a little shit, you know that? ‘Course you know that.” Click leaned forward. “You didn’ think we’d figure out you was with the DEA because you’re,” Click punctuated his words with a well-placed kick, “a dumbass,” another heel kick, the leather of his boots catching the ridges of Guan Shan’s ribs, “‘lil shit.” There was a special type of venom in the last word and the final kick that punctuated it was straight to Guan Shan’s gut.

Whatever was left in Guan Shan’s stomach came up onto the yellowing linoleum floor. The metal chair squealed halfway across the kitchen with the kicks.

Click looked pissed. “You can sing now or later, I don’t give a fuck Red. But we’re gonna get every little bit of information out of your dumb ass about why the fuckin’ DEA is out in the fuckin’ boones bothern’ us good folk.” Click placed his lit cigarette between his lips, nubby yellow crack teeth showing for a moment before he folded his arms and grimaced. “But first we have some other business.” 

Click’s gaze flicked up to the mountain of a man that had been idly standing by like he was at a particularly boring church service. Guan Shan’s heart sank.

“Go out there and find ‘im.” 

Guan Shan was knee deep into his next lie before he could think about it too hard, stemming panic from working its way in. 

“Fuck off Click. I knew you’d be cautious but this is fuck’in overkill. That coke’s real, how’d you think I get it? Ask the DEA all polite-like? Fuck-off man. It’s just you ‘in me and you’re sending Brick House here out there to crash around in the dark chasing after shadows. You’ve been hitt’in the pipe too hard. Melt’n you’re brain and shit.”

Click seemed to consider Guan Shan for a moment and his tall lackey hung between leaving and staying, waiting for the verdict.   

“So you admittin’ you’re with the DEA Red?” He took a deep inhale of his cigarette, the cherry lighting up with an audible crackling sound.

“Yeah. How’d you think I get this stuff? We busted couple hundred pounds of the shit I brought you tonight. And no one checks on it after it’s been logged. Everyone in that department is dipp’in into the shit we grab. Usually just for recreational purposes. But I can get you set up with a ‘lil bit here and there. Weed. Crack. Coke. Party pills. We get the big hauls ‘cause we go after the distributors. And there’s extra in it for you if you can give me some tips every once ‘n awhile.” 

Guan Shan wasn’t surprised by the fist that connected with his face. He was really gonna look like shit once all this was through. 

“You got’ damn motherfucker!” Click fisted his shirt, dragging him and the metal chair forward with a horrendous squeal against the floor.

“Did you just ask me to become an informant for the fucking cops? After everything I’ve done for you Red? Gave you a fuck’in home? Took you in? Then you go dissapear’n and we think you’re dead.” Click was really yelling now, his spit spraying over Guan Shan’s face. “We spilled blood over you Red. And then you show up fifteen-fucking years later looking like the day you disappeared and you have the fuckin’ balls to just think you gonna be welcome back here? You’re dead to us, Red.” 

Click turned to mountain man. “Find his fucking partner. He’s lurk’in out there somewhere in the woods.”

“Wait, no, Click I’ll tell you whatever the fuck you want but if he’s out there he’s just look’in for me. He don’ know nothin and it’s not gonna help you much to have to deal with two of us. You’re gon’ have a harder time covern’ up two miss’in people. He ain’t even from around here and you know who they’ll start com’in after first.” 

“Oh I know alright,” Click growled and brought his knee up hard into Guan Shan “I know ‘cause you’re here and we seen you come into town.”

Guan Shan was spluttering for breath, gasping, winded as he remembered the fucking truck stop. He Tian kissing him in the beat up Toyota and Guan Shan unwilling to push him off. Static of a station on the radio going in and out and crumpled chip bags crunching as He Tian leaned over the armrest. 

Click stilled and Guan Shan lost the thread. Click had flicked open a knife large enough to skin a deer but before Guan Shan could tense the knife was cutting him free from the chair and Click was hauling Guan Shan to his feet.

The knife was back into Click’s pocket before Guan Shan could process what the hell was happening and he shoved roughly out onto the front porch. Moths and June bugs flew through the muggy air outside, circling the porch light. Guan Shan heard the cold click of Click’s gun as he cocked it and pressed the cool metal to the side of Guan Shan’s head. 

“Come on out ‘for I splatter your partner’s brains all over my porch.” Click yelled the words into the darkness beyond the porch.

Guan Shan squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth. Keep to the plan. Keep to the plan. Start your mother fucking car and get out of here. Get out of here. 

His prayers were in vain though. He Tian emerged into the porch light silently, hands up.

–

It had been quiet, which was good. Most of the group had broken off to go party somewhere or pick up more beer and drugs, obviously bored by having their night of partying cut short. That left Click with another giant of a man inside. Easy. He just had to wait for the right moment to get Guan Shan the fuck out of there. 

He Tian made a loop of the house, quietly checking if the back door was unlocked or if any windows were open. The house was locked up but again, it wouldn’t be a problem. He just had to wait for one of them to come out for a smoke or grab something from their car. 

It was too risky to just break in. He Tian settled in and listened. His fingers itched for a cigarette. He could hear the muffled voice of Click talking. That was good too. Hopefully that’s all they were doing, talking. 

He Tian’s first indication that things had gone south was the sound of metal squealing and Click yelling. Someone grunted and retched, a wet splattering sound punctuated by coughs and gasps. He Tian saw red. Breath. Breath. Stay calm and wait. You’ll put him in more danger if you break in now. 

He Tian wanted to move, adrenaline beating a tattoo against his veins. He was shaking with it. He Tian dug his nails against his palm, trying to distract his body from the need to move. It was a beat too late when he noticed things had gone quiet. 

The front door burst open and He Tian almost bolted for the assholes right then and there. Guan Shan was a bloody mess, barely able to stand up. His eyes were already swelling, purple bruises forming shapes Rorschach would be proud of. His dark shirt was wet with blood and the thin skin above his eyes was split and still flowing. 

But despite how much he wanted to raise his own gun and fill these fuckers with enough lead to down an elephant, he couldn’t take the chance. Not with Click pressing the muzzle of agun into Guan Shan’s bloody temple.

“Come on out ‘for I splatter your partner’s brains all over my porch.” 

He Tian walked out with his hands up. Guan Shan made a noise somewhere between anger and despair. 

He had one chance at this. One chance before the mountain of a man next to Click got to He Tian, patted him down, took his gun and then hauled He Tian inside to share in a few miserable hours as a punching bag before becoming catfish food.

“There you are pretty boy.”

He Tian showed concern, fear, anxiety. Let them mask his face. Let them make Click think he was safe.

“Din’ think I would have such a fun night! Your partner here is a fuck’in dumbass. That’s it,  nice and slow.”

He Tian kept eye contact and suddenly, with enough slipping to seem real, tripped. And there it was. With the sudden movement Click reacted before thinking, swinging his gun from Guan Shan to He Tian. 

The rest was a blur of instinct and a prayer. He Tian rolled and pulled his gun, aimed and fired. 

–

It was over fast. Guan Shan stood stock still, trying not to pull Click one way or the other. It was only after Click slumped down and the mountain man crumpled did Guan Shan realize he was splattered in blood that wasn’t his. 

It didn’t matter though because He Tian was there, his hands all over Guan Shan. A quick flick of a knife and Guan Shans hands were free. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” 

He Tian didn’t respond, simply went about checking Guan Shan over, pulling his shirt up and grimacing at the damage splayed across Guan Shan’s body, head bowed. Guan Shan could feel He Tian’s hands shaking where they balled up in his shirt. 

“Hey, hey, come on. Let’s get out of here.” 

He Tian’s jaw clenched. “You said they wouldn’t do anything.” 

“Well I might have under calculated a few things.” 

“A few–” He Tian shuddered, cutting himself off and Guan Shan’s world swooped for a second as He Tian swung him into a bridal carry headed for the car.

“I can carry myself, hey!” He Tian had Guan Shan in the car and was around and in the driver’s seat in one swift motion. It started up on the first try and He Tian was peeling out of the gravel lot and hurtling down the dirt road. 

“Whoah, whoah, He Tian, where’s the fire? Slow the fuck down, we still gotta stay low.” 

He Tian slammed the car to the stop. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel. 

“Is it your first time? You know, doing that.” The words came out as a raspy wheeze and Guan Shan winced. He definitely had a cracked rib. 

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s my first time dragging you as a bloody pulp out from a meth house where two motherfucking shit stains were ready to carve you up for entertainment.” 

Guan Shan didn’t know why he suddenly felt like fighting but he dug his heels in. “It was our only way in, and now we know Click’s not the one who’s been mixing up the fake pain pills that have been killin’ people.”

A muscle jumped in He Tian’s jaw. The truck lurched forward. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“No we fuckin’ ain’t! Get your head on straight, He Tian, we’ve got a good half hour before the rest of Click’s ‘lil possy comes back from wherever they’ve been gettin fucked up, finds two cold bodies in the dirt and finds me not there and puts two an’ two together.” Guan Shan reached for the cigarettes He Tian kept in the cup holder. “What we’re doin’ is going back to our hotel, packin’ up our shit fast as we can, gettin’ back in this truck and driving as far away from this god forsaken place as we can.”

He Tian didn’t respond. Muggy summer air whipped around them through the open windows.

They rolled into town and Guan Shan relaxed when He Tian turned towards the motel.

“Stay here.” He Tian was out of the truck and headed into the motel before Guan Shan could say anything. He slumped into the seat and lit another cigarette. 

Back on the road, orange street lights blurred by as He Tian pushed 100 down the highway. Guan Shan was crashing hard, his whole body ached and he knew tomorrow would be worse. He lit another cigarette, too tired to do anything else, too wired to sleep. 

“You’re quitting this case.” He Tian’s voice barely rose above the hum of the car hurtling down the highway. 

“I’m not talkin’ ‘bout this right now.” 

“They could of killed you.” 

“Yeah, and they coulda killed you too. I told you this isn’t like the city. The hills have their own code and these people live by it. Ain’t anyone coming to help hill folk.”

He Tian snagged the pack of cigarettes, depositing them out of reach in his car door. “So you’ve got to, is that it?”

Guan Shan grunted. “I don’t know He Tian. I just know people are dying and I have connections here and I’m gonna use them so we can stop the son of a bitch who’s been poisoning people.”

The cover of night slipped from around them, the first hints of dawn lightening the sky. 

Guan Shan was somewhere between waking and fever dreams when He Tian spoke again.

“So what’s our next move.” 

Guan Shan cracked his left eye open, the right one was too swollen to see out of. 

“You’re sticking along with this thing? You ‘don seem like you like it much.” 

He Tian snorted as though it was obvious. “I just killed two men, Guan Shan, I should think it’s obvious that I’m in this thing.” 

Guan Shan closed his eye and hummed. “We’re headed in deep then, to a place where the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Where we’ll be alone. You ready for that?” 

“Lead the way Red.”

-

I’d love to hear your thoughts, comments, questions- tell me what you think!

[goingbadly]

mfw i mind my own business + surf intarweb + i see one (1) male humblebraggin that he "almost made his girl pass out many times" from sex chokin. + that tumblr post goin aroun about "how to choke properly" gets both the anatomy + the mechanism wrong????? google does not make you a SCIENTIST. im goin to say the n word unless u can guess which word i mean

Elegy Upon Receiving an Anonymous Message

Before beginning to read this, sit down. Instead, read Carmen Maria Machado’s The Husband Stitch in its entirety.Perform the stage directions.As you lick the blood off the soft place by your thumb where your loved one has cut you, ask yourself, what do these instructions add to the story?Ask yourself, what would it bring to my writing, if I directed my readers like this?Before beginning to read this, sit down. Instead, read the full text of an essay titled, The Effects of the 1967 War on Palestinians. You will feel the same sense of hollowness that The Husband Stitch gave you. You will wonder in the same way if you have ever really been believed. This essay is a relatively uninspired assessment of social movements in Palestine in the early 1970s, and it is dull, but in the citations, someone has written, you know what I am. When you read these words, you will feel an ache on the tip of your tongue like you have scorched it. I want you to ask yourself if this feeling came from the words or the author. Do you think, when Carmen Maria Machado sat down to write The Husband Stitch, if her tongue felt burnt?Do you wonder if the feeling you have now is one that I have passed to you, or one that you had inside to begin with?X It is a hot day in June and we are at the gun range, playing around with pistols. The sky is cloudy despite the heat, and behind my safety glasses the whole world is yellow. I am firing the Tokarev for the first time, and discovering I don’t like the experience. Compared to the smaller calibre pistols the power of it in my hands is new and strange, and I should like it but instead I am simply unsettled. I feel this uncomfortableness in my stomach, in the tense muscles pulling on the back of my neck. I turn and set the gun down on the table and take my glasses off to give myself a second to think. Outside of the safety-yellow the earth is curiously blue. W says, “Not that one?” reloading his little .22 rifle, and I say, “In a fight, I’d rather have something I feel like I’m in control of.”“In a fight, is that all?”He is the last friend I have that knew you and he smells like hot metal, sometimes, and I remember the night you introduced us and we sat in the McDonalds and I watched him pick food and dismiss you. I’d never seen you be dismissed before. I liked the way you leaned over the table towards him, your whole body clambering up and into his space as if the argument was a physical thing you could dominate. You were talking about something – some tactical advantage in a tiny war I’d never heard of. You demanded explanations, angles, concepts.W took pickles out of his burger and flicked them off his black fingernails onto the wrapper, barely listening. The knife at his hip bumped on his thigh as he tapped his heel, impatient with you. I’d never seen someone be impatient with you. When he whipped us down past Royal Oak to Goldfrappe, of all things, you grabbed the back of my seat with both hands to haul yourself forward and grin at him, white teeth sharp in your face. You moved into the space between us as if you owned that, too, and I felt myself giving way before you. I felt W looking at me in the mirror. He told you to calm yourself, easy, unruffled, and you – you said, “I am the law,” as a threat and a joke, and he laughed.(You tell a story in which he loses control of his car coming on the highway, wheeling end over end, and in dead silence the two of you spin out across lanes in the dark. I imagine him straight forward, eyes on the road, dismissive. I imagine you with your hands braced against the column of the windshield, moving into the space of the accident about to happen.)That June we are shooting with a friend of W’s that I don’t know, but he knows you. He says to me, “If M ever comes back into town – “ and W is watching me, the way he did in the mirror, with that careful awareness. I wonder if his expression is sliding back towards calm. I pick up the Tokarev again.How dare someone mention your name to me.W’s friend says, “I’ll say I met a girl covered in tattoos –“ and W interrupts, “M wouldn’t know her from that.” You, of course, did not know my body to have tattoos. A thin slice of something that might be an injury goes through me. When I stretch, the scar on my rib pulls and it makes me think of the places you have made me constricted. The gun range smells like hot air and dust. This is an inside joke that I am forced to have with myself, since you are not here. I think of how I have become a stranger to you. It has been (I do not have to think about this) it has been three years, and you are not coming home. How many deserts can I fit in a paragraph?“I’ll tell him I met a girl at the gun range – “You say this thing about people who don’t understand what we are, that they are civilians, that it is rude for me to include civilians in the knowledge that we have of each other’s violence. I think W’s friend is a civilian. I think you would understand, of all people, the roiling red feeling I have at his attempts to describe me. I picture you cautioning me to calmness. You of all people are familiar with my anger. You of all people know how much I hate that anyone would ever have knowledge of me that you don’t. “Tell him you met a girl with three scars on her arm,” I say.W reaches out and touches me like a warning towards restraint, because he is not a civilian, and he knows these words to be vicious. I hope, in your life, you encounter an endless stream of people who say these words to you: “I met a girl with three scars on her arm.” I want to haunt you like a ghost. I want your leaving me to reverberate in every sadness you feel. I hope every time you hear these words you think of the way that you cut me open and you feel an ache, a hollowness, a sensation like the tip of your tongue has been scorched.XAt this point, introduce yourself to someone who has never spoken to you before. Tell them, “As people become closer to us, we begin to resent their autonomy. We begin to be angry with them for not simply being compliant with us. The fact that they can make their own choices and think their own thoughts implies an unbearable separation.”Watch their face. I do not need to tell you which reaction means that they are a civilian.XYou pull your phone out of your pocket and say, “Just a minute.”Your girlfriend’s texting again, another crisis, probably. “Break up with her,” I tell you, grinning, arms crossed above you in the stairwell.  I lean on the wall to watch you and the places the paper is peeling prick at my skin. The shadows make your skin look dark and your eyes look huge and hollow.You look at me and your smile gets a little unfriendly. “Defcon 4, Ms. Duncan.”“You don’t like her. You can’t help her. She’s just like this.” Also - although I am not about to say this out loud - You are leaving the country and in a month, you are going to be gone for a year. A year is forever. A year is a lifetime.It is intolerable to believe that this pasty sad ghost of a woman is going to have everything from you before I have a chance to ask for it. Or it is intolerable that she thinks she will; I know better than her what you are, and I think she can’t have you at all. I am looking at you in the shadows of the rickety stairs and the only light is coming in through the high old window in the hallway. I am not thinking anything that’s kind. Your skin is the colour of the rich warm earth made by decomposing trees and I want to bury my fingers in you, I want to glut myself, I want to be full.“She’s got some head stuff,” you say, “Still – “  Still - and I know, and you know, what still - means in this context. Still – I have seen you. Whatever thing there is in me can smell you, in the way that blood is for sharks in the water, in the way that dogs smell things that make them lift their heads and turn wolfish towards the door at night. I tilt my head to watch you and I feel something reptilian flex and coil under the surface of my skin. It is intolerable that this nothing girl thinks that she is between us.You come up the stairs towards me slowly, and I don’t move, until you are standing over me. I catch the sharp points of your teeth but I can’t bring myself to look up, where I know your eyes are watching me. Still.Different people feel different ways about things, I assume, and some people at this point would feel bad for your girlfriend – whatever crisis she’s having, whatever hard place she’s grinding herself down on. You do, I imagine, because at least at some point you must have cared about such things. I don’t feel bad. I tilt my chin up to you and I want, with a covetousness that is both unreasonable and cold. She should have known better. She should have not walked where I wanted to till the earth, where I wanted to make furrows in you.At some point, I tell you, I always get what I want, and you reply, but what you want is for me to bleed you, yes?And I still always get what I want.“Bring the boxcutter to bed,” I tell you. You do.Later that night you will stroke my face where the tears have been and ask me, “What if you couldn’t say no to me?” and that is the last time I will have a safeword with you.XStand, now, and turn towards the west.Explain to whatever wall you face how there are some loves that can only be communicated by handing someone a well-read and dog-eared book. If they do not understand what it means to be loved like your spine is being cracked, you have learned something about them.Examine your frustration with explaining things to a wall. Would it make it better if the distance between you and the nearest person on the other side were to suddenly collapse? Would it make it better if somehow, there was no wall at all?XOn the seventh of January 2019 you message me anonymously again. This makes me wonder if you also send the other anonymous message I receive the next morning, January the eighth, that reads: types of girls: 3. animal bones that crush under your jaw.I know it is you because there is no one else in my life I have told, I am unable to stay stable and have you speak to me. You are the only person who is blocked on all my accounts. Put this in perspective, like you are coming up the stairs and seeing my face turned towards you for the first time; my rapist has more access to me than you do. Think of the way I wear your shirt to sleep in, how I have worn thin spots in your memory where I have rubbed my thumb. What does that tell you, about the betrayal I felt when you did not come home? For once, I think, an overreaction was the truth. Your year away was forever, was a lifetime, after all.Let me tell you another truth, in three stories.First: Earlier this year I told a friend about you for the first time. She asked me, “Do you really think he stayed faithful to you in Sarajevo? The entire time you were dating?” And I felt the shock of it like recoil. In seven years, it had not occurred to me that you might have loved someone else while I thought you were mine.Second: I have not dated anyone since you that has not been jealous of you. In November I sat on my ex-boyfriend’s coffee table and propped my feet against his couch and smiled at him as he shook his head back. You have no language for the things that I gave him, but I couldn’t manage to give him the forgetting of you. What does this tell you? I have asked people for their love who didn’t believe that I wanted it, for the simple reason that they didn’t consider it possible I would want anyone but you. Does this show you a heart you thought was gone from me?Third: There was a third story, but - and if you are reading this out loud, read it as a cry of desperation - surely, after seven years, there can be one pound of flesh I do not owe to you? Surely there are some things I am not called to give up?Sometimes I think I will not stop turning in my bed at night until I have put a bullet in both of our heads. Is this the war you asked for? Is this how you wanted me to love you? You send me messages again. You ask me to once more redefine myself against your absence. It has been seven years. I have tried with my whole soul to be untouched by you. I have carved myself until the thing that you left behind is unrecognizable from the thing that you had, that you buried your teeth into, whose face you took the boxcutter to in the dark.Once I tried to throw your ring away; caught myself searching through garbage on my knees, jamming my fingernails into rot to find copper. Does this fill you with the same hot angry exhaustion it calls up in me? I wish I knew what shape my heart might be, without it curling around the absence of you.XLet me answer your anonymous message, then, with a last set of instructions.Read Carmen Maria Machado’s The Husband Stitch out loud to a man you have trusted. Ask him, would he promise not to harm you? Force him to promise.Next, have him take a pen. He should hold it horizontal, between his two hands, and press it down as hard as he can at the bottom of your fingernail. When you tell him it is unbearable, he will say, but this is bearable. This will not kill you.I wonder what that does to his promise.

[trade-baby-blues]

Diamond in the Ruff

Pairing: Jim x Reader

Word Count: 1790

Warnings: Suspense. Swearing (I think?? Probably).

A/N: Based on a request by @sebastianstanslefteyebrow. I’m sorry to the other requests I have floating around. I read this one and immediately had an idea (that I stole from the new Star Wars movie) and just rolled with it. I did NOT edit it all because I am super sick and can’t focus but I wanted to post it anyway so y’all can read it. Hope you enjoy!

Finding new signs of intelligent life. Exploring the outer reaches of deep space. This was exactly the kind of thing that got your heart racing. It made up for the last dozen away missions where all you found was soil and poisonous plants.

“Maybe we’ll find a poisonous animal this time,” you rambled to anyone who would listen on the shuttle to the planet’s surface.

Jim scoffed. “You're probably the only person who’s excited about that.”

“Poisonous, not poisonous. I don't really care as long as it's not another new species of subterranean fungi. The botanists always have a field day and the zoology team gets nothing! Ever! And don't you dare even bring up the Phylosians,” you glared at Jim. “You and I both know the botanists robbed us of that find. Sure they're plant-based life forms but they were sentient. Sentient!”

“Officially the Phylosians were classified as an alien race,” Spock interjected, “not a species of plant, therefore the botanists we're not qualified to classify them either.” Spock turned his attention back to the PADD in his hand and you stuck your tongue out at him, making Jim snicker.

“Stupid planet made of stupid rocks and stupid dirt,” you muttered. You kicked the ground, knocking up a small cloud of dust which you promptly inhaled. You swung blindly in front of you trying to disperse it while you coughed your lungs out, eyes burning from the dust and cheeks burning from embarrassment at Jim’s laughter. You flipped him off, but the sight of you covered in dust, tears on your cheeks, muffling a cough had Jim doubled over laughing even harder. “I hate this.”

“Captain,” an Ensign yelled as he ran towards you and Jim. “Captain there's something! Something in the woods! Over there in the...woods.” The ensign collapsed on the ground in front of you.

Jim called for help and dropped to his knees to check for a pulse. You stared at him, jaw dropped and smiling as if someone had just dropped a beautiful alien baby in front of you. Jim caught the look in your eye and pointed his finger at you like he was your father. “Don't you dare.”

“Wasn't he with another ensign, though? We should really find them and make sure they're okay,” you said, inching your way closer to the woods despite Jim’s protests. “It would be cruel to leave them out there without help. I mean it could be a wild animal. A dangerous wild animal.” You had to suppress a fit of giggles, trying not to sound too desperate for a new discovery.

“Which is exactly why I don't want you- Hey! Wait,” Jim called, looking back up from the ensign to find you sprinting full speed into the woods. Jim wrestled with himself, not wanting to leave an ensign unconscious and unattended but knowing you had an even greater affinity for trouble than he did. “Damn it. Don't go anywhere,” he said to the unconscious ensign before running after you.

“This really isn't how I wanted to spend my afternoon,” Jim called out into the empty woods. He cursed under his breath again when there wasn't an answer. “I am not doing the paperwork if you get eaten.”

Jim prepped himself for another shout when something slammed into him from the side, pinning him to a tree back-first. A hand clamped over his mouth and Jim prepared himself for the worst until his eyes finally focused on your profile. He began to protest, albeit muffled, against the palm of your hand but you shushed him.

“They're close.” You saw the question in Jim’s eyes but the woods answered for you as a chorus of howls surrounded you.

Jim shoved your hand away and whispered “Please tell me that's a pack of known animals. Known vegetarian animals.”

“Maybe. Could also be wild sehlats.”

“Sehlats?” Jim coughed, trying to cover up the rising octave in his voice. “Like the one Spock used to have?”

“Oh no, no. Wild ones are much bigger and much more aggressive.” Jim tensed against you, and you could've sworn he stopped breathing for a second. “Of course I’m probably wrong! I mean I was top of my class so it's unlikely, but there haven't been any recorded sightings of sehlats outside of Vulcan before - maybe because anyone who spotted them got eaten - but probably not! It could just be one animal. One small, harmless animal.” A chorus of howls erupted again.

“Does that really sound like one animal to you Lieutenant “Top of the Class Zoologist”,” Jim hissed.

“It could just be throwing its howl. Coyotes have been known to do that to fend off other predators.”

“Oh yeah because coyotes are completely safe.”

“They are as long as you don't threaten them.”

“We’re in the middle of the woods! We have guns.”

“A coyote doesn't know what a gun is.”

“No, but they can smell fear.”

“So don't be scared.”

“Oh great,” Jim said, throwing his hands up. “Thank you so hadn't thought of that. You're absolutely right there's nothing to be scared of lost in the middle of the woods with one ensign already missing and a pack of foreign and possibly carnivorous animals on the loose hunting us.” Jim winced at the loudness in his voice. “They probably didn't hear that, right?”

A rustling from the bushes behind you shut you up before you could answer. Jim pushed you in front of him, reaching for his gun. You immediately crouched, opening your arms and extended your hands. “What are you doing?” Jim whispered sharply at you.

“They're less scared if you get on the same level. They won't view you as an alpha so you won't be a threat.”

“No they see you as a tasty snack!”

“That is completely -” Another chorus of howls, closer this time. A rustling in the bushes. A low growl that sent a jolt of ice through your body and stood the hairs on your neck on end. Jim stepped closer to you, whether to comfort you or himself you didn’t know. Probably would never know. Probably would die in the woods on an alien planet slowly eaten by vicious animals and never knowing if Jim was trying to comfort you in his last moments. Never knowing what it would be like to get married and have kids and a dog and that apple pie, picket fence kinda life you’d always dreamed of.

Gradually, the creature emerged. Snout first. Teeth bared. You quickly ran through a list of mammalian physiology. It was clearly canine like, though the fur seemed rigid and you’d never seen an animal with a lavender cut before. As the rest of the creature emerged, only one thought crossed your mind: “Holy shit.”

You immediately dropped to your knees, smile plastered on your face as if your parents had just surprised you with a puppy on Christmas day. “Holy shit, Jim. I think this is a new species of Vulptex. I’ve only read about them in stories, but they were said to have crystalline fur.”

The Vulptex crept forward cautiously. You extended your fingers farther, bowing your head. Jim whispered your name in warning but you ignored him as the creature finally brushed its wet nose against your fingertips. Your fingers ran through its coat, expecting harsh edges. Instead you were greeted by fur softer than you could have imagined. Your fingers slid through it as if it was water. The Vulptex seemed to be enjoying the encounter too, because it leaned into your hand before letting out a sharp bark.

A few other heads emerged from the bushes. Seeing their friend in your arms and unharmed, they quickly ran at you. Their growls changed to excited barks as they licked every patch of skin they could find on you. Surprisingly, their tongues were course, much like a cat’s. Their eyes were an almost hypnotic shade of dark blue, not that you had much time to look into them with the pups jumping into your face. You laughed as one managed to get a tongue inside your nose. Jim laughed with you, finally putting his gun away and letting his guard down.

As soon as he knelt, the Vulptexes were all over him too, sniffing his hair, licking his cheeks, covering his uniform in muddy paw prints. You laughed again. “I finally discover a new species and they’re puppies.” You cupped one of the Vulptex’s faces and blew a raspberry against its nose. The creatures all snapped to attention, looking around bewildered. You laughed again and a few of the more skittish ones ran back into the bushes.

“There you are,” a voice said from the bushes. Several excited barks followed.

“Ensign Ramero,” Jim called. “Is that you?”

The ensign emerged cuddling one of the smallest pups in her arms. “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to abandon the other ensign. I just saw one of these guys tangled in some thorns and I couldn’t leave ‘im there. Vasiliev was scared, sayin’ they were poisonous or some shit, pardon my French, and, well, like I said I couldn’t just leave the lil guy.” Ramero ruffled the fur on the Vulptex’s head and it nuzzled closer to her.

“See,” Jim muttered. “I’m not the only one who thought they were dangerous.”

“Yeah, about as dangerous as a tribble.”

“Tribbles are a banned from transportation on Starfleet vessels because of their danger and you know that.”

“Oh, come on. They’re just like cats, only a little more invasive.”

“A little? Don’t you remember that time you snuck a Tribble that happened to be pregnant on board? Scotty was finding Tribbles in every duct on the Enterprise!”

“That was one time.”

“One time with the Tribbles. Then there was also that Regulan bloodworm-”

“Which proved to have incredible medicinal use.”

“Oh yeah and the Ceti eel that almost ate Chekov’s brain? Did that have medicinal use too?”

“No,” you sighed. “But it was super cool. And these are just like dogs! I could probably train one to fetch you your slippers or your PADD. Except it’d probably miss it’s pack. Unless we can bring them all.”

“No.” Jim said without hesitation. You pouted, but only for a few seconds before a Vulptex jumped into your face again to lick you. You smiled and rubbed behind its ears, making it wiggle its back leg.

“But they’re so cute,” you whined.

Jim hunkered down, lying back against the forest floor. The Vulptexes took their chance and swarmed him, jumping and sniffing and licking all over him. One of the pups had curled up between the two of you and was already dozing off. Jim sighed deeply. “Yeah, they are.”

Tags: @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @mysteriously-lost-forever @feelmyroarrrr @yukki-art @atari-writes @pabegay1​ @bolontiku  @brooke-taylor0323 @anotherotter @the-witching-hours12-3​ 

[odderancyart]

On a Never Resting Sea

Chapter VI: Revelations

First Last Next

AO3

Summary: Razz, the heir of the Beobyrian Empire, is on his way home from a diplomatic mission as his ship gets attacked by pirates. Suddenly he finds himself taken as hostage, and it doesn’t seem like the pirates are planning to exchange him for a ransom anytime soon. How annoying.

Warnings:  violence, death, blood, hostage holding, kidnapping, prostitution

The guards were walking toward them. Spears held loosely in their hands and swords hanging by their sides. They looked confident, grinning as the crowd parted for them. As he took in a deep breath, preparing to scream, Razz threw a glance at Red. The pirate was still frozen. So were the other crewmembers. Taken by surprise. Hushed whispers in the crowd wondered what imperial guards were doing here. This was supposed to be a haven. For scum and criminals, Razz’s mind supplied, and smirked. Red turned toward him, with wide sockets. Stepping forward, running toward Razz who was standing a few meters away, Red looked panicked.

Razz opened his mouth, and screamed.

The sound was loud and piercing. There was a shuffle as everyone turned, wanting to see what happened. The guards did as well. Placing him in everyone’s focus.

“I COMMAND YOU TO RESCUE ME!” he yelled, just as Red grabbed his wrist. Hard. “RESCUE YOUR PRINC-“ he was forced to stop as a hand pressed against his mouth. Growling into it, Razz’s soul beat hard as he opened his mouth as much as he could. It wasn’t much, but his fangs were sharp. He bit down. In the same moment, he kicked out backwards. There was a shriek in pain as his sharp heel hit something soft. A thump of a body hitting the ground. Red yelled as the fangs went into his phalanges, and he let go, swearing loudly. Razz yanked his wrist, trying to get out of Red’s grip, but to no avail.

“I AM PRINCESS RAZZ OF BEOBYRA AND IT’S YOUR DUTY TO SA-“ he was once again cut off, and he choked as something was shoved down his throat. His hands were tugged together, and a rope twisted around them. Hissing furiously, he wrenched out of the hands holding his, but as he took a step forward he felt his soul getting dragged out of his chest. The grey inverted heart glowed purple as it floated in front of him, and Razz felt himself lift from the ground.

“run,” Red said, holding out a crimson-glowing hand in front of him, and the now gathered crewmembers nodded. They ran. Razz’s felt sweat run down his brow as he looked toward the guards while trying to get free. He wanted his magic back. The guards stared, dumbfounded, before one of the humans’ eyes widened.

“It’s Empress Razz!” she yelled. The crowd began to mutter, and the other guards stared at her. “He’s alive!”

“Hostage,” the lizard breathed. “Pirates.”

“fuck,” Red said.

“Save His Majesty! Save the empress!” the third guard exclaimed, and the other two nodded. Majesty? Empr-  Razz gasped as his sight was blocked by a grey stone wall, and his thoughts were interrupted. Glaring down at the pirates, he realized they were on their way toward the back alleys. His soul pulsed. Breathing rapidly, he trashed, trying to get out a sound through the gag.

One of the pirates – Septimus, he remembered – glared at him. There was a hole in the front of his trousers. With some satisfaction, Razz realized he had kicked him in the exact right way. Human males were so weak sometimes. A single kick in the right place was the only thing needed to get them down on the ground.

Soon lost, he could only hope the guards knew their way around. They were surrounded by buildings, in the alleys of the port town. He knew from experience that these were only possible to navigate if you were used to the town in question. If you already knew your way around. Sagging, he dug his fangs into his lower jaw. They had lost him.

At least they knew he was alive, Razz realized with a slight, grim satisfaction. They no longer believed he had drowned with the rest of the sailors, soldiers, nobles, servants and merchants that had been on the ship. Seventy passengers plus a whole crew. All dead. Everyone but him. The back alleys were dark. A sharp turn to the left. Gasping, he managed twist and avoid a wall. He tried to yell for Red to be careful, but the words were muffled by the gag. The only sounds were the distant crowd. Footsteps on stone. The gasping breathing of the pirates. As well as Razz’s constant tries to shriek.

Another turn to the left. The crimson glow flickered. With a gasp, Razz felt himself fall. His sockets grew wide as the ground closed in on him. The cobblestone looked hard. He was a decimetre from the ground as he felt himself twitch as the magic caught him again.

“s’rry, princess,” Red gasped, and light showed up in front of them. Razz blinked, unable to see with the change. As his eyelights got used to it, he recognized the busy atmosphere of the harbour. The sound of footsteps got louder, more rapid. They ran faster. Making their way over toward a ship, Razz took a close look on it for the first time. He had given up on trying to escape. For now.

A brigantine. A name was written on the prow. Razz could only just make it out. Sarynthia. His sockets widened. He knew that language.

“Ropes away!” One of the crewmembers yelled, interrupting Razz’s thoughts. “There’s guards here and they’ve seen him!”’

Frantic activity begun, but Razz didn’t have much time to think off it. Suddenly everything got dark again. He let out an ouch as he hit something hard. The wooden floor. He was inside again, and Red was tugging at him. He growled again at being manhandled as he was forced into his cabin.

“are ya goin’ ta attack if i let ya loose?” Red asked. After a few moments of consideration, Razz shook his head. No. There was no use, was there? It was too late. Sighing as Red took the gag out of his mouth and freed his hands, he glared at the other. Rubbing his wrists, Razz gave him his most vicious look. “look. i don’t blame ya fer doin’ tha’ – tama-“ he interrupted himself. “stars know i would’ve done tha’ myself, princess, bu-“

“Empress,” Razz interrupted him quietly. Now when they weren’t in the middle of an escape, a thought occurred to him when the pirate called him princess. His sockets widened. Swallowing, he continued. “They called me empress. Empress Razz. Majesty. That must mean…” he trailed off.

Jerking abruptly, he stared at Red. The pirate stared back, bewildered at the sudden change of mood.

“My father is dead,” he breathed. With the realization, he felt tears rush into his sockets, and he swallowed. Forced them back. A princess did not cry. An empress, a queen, did not cry. “My father is dead. I’m the Queen of Beobyra. Empress of the Empire. But I’m not home- they believe me dead-“

Slapping his hands for his mouth, Razz took a step back. He shook his head violently, and felt a tremble travel up his spine. He gaped at Red, who looked sympathising.

“My brother. My brother is ruling Beobyra. He’s ruling the Empire. But he-“ he stopped, lifting a hand. His voice quivered. “-Slim can’t rule an Empire. That’s my job. He’s a soldier, he can’t… please. Please, you need to let me go, please, I need to go home. Slim is going to break he can’t rule the Empire. He’s going to break under the pressure. Please. He’s my brother. My baby brother. Red, please.”

“’m sorry.”

Red’s voice was quiet. Uncaring about the grip Razz had on his wrist now, hard enough to almost break bone, he took a step forward. His eyelights burned crimson. They were soft. Razz was trembling, gasping. No. No. Slim was a soldier. He was a general. He was meant to lead the armies. He was meant to be the Chief Commander over the Imperial armies, not to rule several countries. Especially not when he thought Razz was dead. Being an empress – that was Razz’s job. That was what he was trained for, raised to. His soul beat hard, it felt like it was going to break his ribs.

His father was dead and his brother was slowly breaking and his dog was probably depressed because he was gone and his realm must be falling apart by now and here he was, being held hostage by pirates-

His breathing grew laboured, uneven, as he stared, wide-eyed, at the pirate.

Sliding down to the floor, Razz couldn’t hold his regal, neutral expression. It was too much. It was too much and he needed to go home. His soul ached as he trembled, a sob escaping him. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Hiding his face in his arms, he shook his head. Red couldn’t see him crying. No one could see him crying. It wasn’t something a member of his family did. Except that first night he hadn’t cried since he was six this wasn’t right but nothing was and he needed to go home. His brother needed him. His empire needed him his realm needed him.

Warm arms embraced him and he startled in surprise. What was happening? Opening his sockets, he realized Red was holding him. His face was pressed against Red’s rib cage.

“if ya want me ta let go, jus’ tell me,” Red mumbled. “but ya looked like ya might need a hug, princess.”

“Queen,” Razz whispered, and Red chuckled quietly, softly. “Or empress.”

“queen, or empress,” he agreed.

Razz wanted to tell him to let go. The words were on his tongue. Yet he couldn’t. His soul felt slightly warmer, calmer, at the touch. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him. It wasn’t something they did. When he was upset his old nurses and his father would tell him to get himself together and do something about the problem. That was what a princess did. What he was supposed to do. What a queen would do.

Clutching at Red’s shirt, he hid his face in it. Tears stained the fabric, but the other didn’t seem to care. He just held Razz closer as he trembled.

“’m sorry, majesty, i am. i know how ‘t ‘s ta care fer a brother, ta worry. fer ‘im ta need ya when yer not there…”

His body shook. The bones were hurting with the force of it. His father was dead. Reason unknown. They were orphaned now. Adults, yes, but parentless. He had missed, or would miss, the Burning. The last chance to take goodbye until they met in the Blessed Lands if both were let in. Forever, if not. His brother was ruling an empire. His baby brother, who had nowhere near the political training Razz had because he had always been meant for the soldier’s life. Who had been given military training instead. Who thought Razz was dead. At least that’d change soon, if those guards did their job and reported. Choking on sobs, on tears, Razz glared up at the other. There was no bite in it. Just pain. Worry. Fear. Red’s arms held even tighter. Shaking badly, sobbing violently, darkness overtook him.

The wooden walls squeaked pleasantly as the ship gently bobbed on the waves. Water caressed the window lightly, leaving a trail of salt behind. With the entire cabin scented by leather and leather balm, Red leaned toward the back of the armchair. He carefully rubbed the balm into his coat, watching with a smile how it the leather immediately seemed to feel better. He loved this. It was one of his favourite parts of the week; sitting alone in his and Grillby’s shared cabin, taking care of his beloved coat. That coat had cost him a fortune and he’d be damned if he didn’t handle it better than a parent might handle their baby.

Yet, there was a small, unpleasant feeling in the back of his mind. Nagging at him. Refusing to disappear, no matter how he tried to ignore it. Like he had told the princess – the empress, the queen, he did know how it was to worry for a sibling. How it was to not be there when they needed you. Fell always complained about him being overprotective, and they were twins. It was probably even worse when the brother in question was younger. Less experienced.

Grimacing at the thoughts, Red turned back to the leather. He had begun to stare at the wall. At the small branch hole in it which Grillby always complained about.

It wasn’t like he could do anything anyway. He had always preferred not to fret over things he couldn’t do anything about. Never did anyone anything good. After Razz had passed out a couple hours ago – something told Red he wasn’t very used to crying, especially not that much, so it wasn’t surprising – he had put the other on the bed and left to do this. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much, why his soul was beating so uncomfortably. Razz was the freaking ruler of Beobyra. Why, by the memory of Pravannala, should he care? There was literally no reason. Yet he did.

With an exasperated groan, Red put down the coat and went to wash his hands in the bowl he’d put out in beforehand. The coat was done anyway. The water ran over his fingers, seeping into the small wounds he’d gotten from the empress’ sharp fangs. Wincing as the salt stung, he carefully dried his hands off on a towel. If he got balm on their things again, Grillby would probably poison his food tomorrow. He chuckled. Grillby was his best friend, but he was fucking vicious when someone got dirt on his stuff.

Red jerked, jumping, as a scream echoed through the ship. Magnified by the wood. Swearing loudly as his head hit the shelf on the wall, he felt worry spike through him. That was Razz’s voice. He sounded goddamn terrified.

Sockets widening, he quickly put down the coat before starting to run. Multiple crewmembers joined him, worried or curious. Had someone gone to Razz without permission? There were multiple crewmembers who’d love to get their hands on the princess (empress, but they didn’t know that yet) of the Beobyrian Empire. Especially since he didn’t have his magic right now. Red’s breathing was shallow as he reached the door, stopping just before he slammed into it. He yanked the handle. Locked. He fumbled with the keys. After almost dropping them, he managed to get it into the keyhole and turned.

The crowd behind him was pressing as he stepped into the room, looking around in bewilderment. It was empty. Except for Razz, of course. Who was perched on the bed, pressing himself against the bed’s head gable, staring at the floor. Following his gaze, Red let out a relieved and amused snort. A rat. Quickly glancing up, Razz threw him a desperate gaze. His face was distorted in disgust and fright.

“GET IT THE FUCK OUT,” he said, sounding almost pleading. Sounding terrified. Red blinked. Snorting laughter came from behind him, and he himself had to resist the urge to snort.

“Sally!” One of the sailors called. “There she is.”

Red watched in amusement as one of the sailors, Alexis, simply walked up there. Razz’s expression was priceless as they grabbed the rat, smiling at their pet.  His sockets widened and his face scrunched up – as much as bone can. Shaking his head, Red grinned.

“so ya can fight five people a’ once, but yer scared o’ rats?” he asked, receiving a glare. The relief was a little too obvious for it to have any effect, though.

“THERE IS A DIFFERENCE. MY OPPONENTS ARE PREDICTABLE AND SLOWER THAN ME. RATS ARE FAST, HAS NO BRAIN AND SPREAD ILLNESSES JUST BY THEIR PRESENCE.”

Oh, right. There’d been a plague in Beobyra only ten years ago, which was spread by rats. It had killed a fifth of their population. Which still was really fucking huge. The capital had been the centre of it all. Red remembered that. It had been the main topic no matter where in the world you went, which was obvious by the fact that he knew about it. Seeing where and how he and Fell had grown up they hadn’t been very well-informed about the happenings in the world. It would make sense that someone who’d grown up in the middle of it would be terrified of rats. Still, Red smirked.

Turning around, he waved the crewmembers out. They grumbled, but obeyed. After Undyne and Fell, Red had highest authority when it came to their prisoner. As soon as the cabin was empty except for them, he grinned at Razz as he closed the door.

“there’s no plague rats on this fine ship, i promise, yer majesty,” he assured Razz, whose shoulders had sunk slightly as the rat and the crew disappeared. Razz blinked, and straightened his back slightly. He opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to say something, but closed it again. Red frowned. The other looked almost unsure. “wha’ izzit, majesty?”

“YOUR SHIP’S NAME IS SARYNTHIA,” Razz commented. Shit. Not revealing his inner cringe, Razz nodded. “THAT’S PEOSÁN. YOU’RE FROM PEOSANA, AREN’T YOU?”

Red nodded, sighing inwardly, and Razz’s sockets widened a little more. He looked confused. A little worried.

“WHY AM I STILL ALIVE THEN? YOU HATE US. SURELY YOU’D JUMP ON THE CHANCE TO KILL THE HEIR OF THE BEOBYRIAN EMPIRE?”

Chuckling, Red nodded and went to sit on the bed as well. He grinned at the queen, and winked.

“true. yer lucky th’ captain and my bro thinks th’ money ‘s more important than revenge. and tha’ th’ crew’s loyal t’ them. otherwise ya’d be fuckin’ dead by now. prolly ‘n a painful manner. ‘n’ i? too much work, even if i hadn’t been commanded not ta hurt ya. even though yer people cut down and then fuckin’ burned our forests.” His voice turned dark, the light guttering out in his sockets. All the spirits that had been lost those days… “lemme tell ya, th’ crew truly loved ta burn yer ship. but eh. wha’s done’s done ‘n’ ‘m not holdin’ ‘t against ya. ya were a kid, jus’ like me.”

There were a few moments of silence. Red fought the urge to clench his fists. Forced his eyelights back on. True. That hadn’t been Razz’s fault.

There was still an awful lot that had been done to them after Razz came of age to reached a proper age to work with politics. Even after they left the Empire.

After the Empire let them go because they weren’t useful anymore. Everyone knew that was what had happened. If the Empire had wanted to keep them they would. Their armies were bigger than the Peosanira – the population of Peosana. They wouldn’t have stood a chance.

“YOU NAMED YOUR PIRATE SHIP ‘HONOUR’,” Razz finally stated, voice full of disbelief. Red almost choked. His grin returned to his face as he felt his soul stop pounding so hard in fury. He laughed.

The cabin went quiet as Razz took the flute from his lower ‘lip’. The melody which had just floated through the room had been an old Beobyrian folksong. One he had always loved. It was about a couple who went into war, but one was a cavalryman and one in the infantry. She died in battle, and they returned home and raised their children alone. Then they went into war again when the children were adults, and died as well. It ended with them being reunited in the Blessed Lands. It was a lovely song. Of course, love wasn’t really something he earned for. Had never cared about it; Razz was going to marry for powerful heirs, alliances and territory. That was how it worked and there was no use dreaming about something else. Still, it was a nice sentiment. Two lovers who reunited in the Mother’s holy realm.

Applauses filled the cabin, and Red cheered loudly. Sang his praises. Razz smiled. It was nice with such an enthusiastic audience. At home, everyone could play well, and being able to play a little better than well wasn’t all that special either. One had to be a prodigy to be noticed, and he did not have time to play enough to become much better than everyone else. His soul felt warm as he nodded in acknowledgment. Thinking about what to play next, he formed an O with his mouth. That… was a good idea. He lifted the flute again, holding it just beneath his mouth, took in a deep breath, and began to play.

Red listened attentively, and his sockets grew wide as he recognized the tune. Razz could see him hum slightly before all his focus went to the instrument. To the melody. It was a happy song, more cheerful than most Beobyrian ones. Yet, it was simple and frankly lovely. His fingers moved over the keys, reforming his mouth as the tunes grew lighter. It wasn’t a complicated melody, but one he didn’t play often so it was hard to remember the notes. Up and down and the very light final. With a last, long tone, Razz took the flute from his ‘lip’ again. He stared expectantly at Red, who stared back. The pirate looked completely dumbfounded.

“tha’… tha’s wîl nyx,” he said, surprised and confused. Happy. Wîl Nyx. Song of Light. A traditional, Peosani song which always was sung both on funerals and celebrations. Razz grinned at him and nodded.

“IT IS.”

“how’d ya…?”

“I’VE ALWAYS LIKED TRADITIONAL SONGS, AND ASKED MY TEACHER FOR ONES FROM THE ENTIRE EMPIRE.”

Red flinched slightly, but nodded. His grin remained wide, unbothered.

“huh. carai zalû – the moon carnival – is coming up soon. perhaps i should ask th’ captain if ya can play. if ya want?”

“IF I GET TO LEAVE THIS CABIN, I’LL PLAY ANYTHING.”

Red chuckled, and Razz grinned back. Without another word, he raised his cherished instrument once again, and continued to play.