#like dream's big red nose. and ink's and dream's skeleton 'eyes'

[kettlequills]

C3: waking dreams: master of fate

On A03 here. tw for grief/mourning, mentioned child death, and mild hallucinations. also miraak is high. you guys get to meet soskro and mirdein!

“Easy now,” the healer, Soskro, murmured, “Easy. Your body has had quite the shock.”

“Hmm,” another voice came, gravelly, rough with ash. “Just patch me up. I need to get back to guarding the temple doors. I don’t trust that those troublemakers have gone.”

Flame-soft light greeted Miraak’s eyes. It rippled warm orange over the curtains that had been pulled around his bed. A bed? It was warm against his body and held him like an embrace, like Mora had decided to dangle him over the ink-dark seas long enough that Miraak’s body heat started to warm the perpetually tepid rubberiness of his tentacles. There were no beds in Apocrypha, nor curtains, and vague notions of some distant past-dream warred with what Miraak knew – the only fabric was the ragged tatters of the seeker’s cloaks. A similar papery colour, these cloaks that wrapped around the world, but they had dried out, and there were no stains.

The healer and the patient were shadow puppets against the light, their bodies licked with slow-moving, peaceful tentacles that swayed back and forth like the sigh of the waves on the shore. Like the remote figures of lurkers, small as a scale on his gauntlet from the vantage point of his high tower, the bubbles they blew in the ink as they idled.

Miraak’s face itched, but gently, as if it was far away. His ear ached a little, as if he’d been laying on it for a very long time. His mask felt odd on one side, soft instead of hard, and the eyeslits were wider, he thought. All the added peripheral vision made him feel dizzy.

He wanted to close them, but he could not figure out how. Instead, he watched the flutter of the curtains in the soft breeze and felt the salt from the distant sea in his throat. The world seemed to inch past in honey-thick grains, each second languid, lugubrious, elongated as an endless rest among the murmuring pages wrapped in tame dragonwings. He did not need sleep, did not ever fully slip into the dark comfort of Vaermina’s realm, but it was… meditative, in a sense, to leave only one ear open for threats, and simply lie quietly for a time.

Sahrotaar was the best to sleep on if Mora did not have him within his curling knot of oil-dark tendrils, even though Sahrotaar was always a placid room temperature. Its scales were smooth and soft, circular, made for slipping like a knife between the skin of the water, and its finned wings would curl round Miraak with the most care, like he was a sea-pearl in the heart of a clam. The bones in Sahrotaar’s wings still jabbed him, and Sahrotaar would insist on sliding its big snout into the pocket of space it had made between its wings and its body, filling it all with the subtle reek of old fish and ink, but it was better than nesting among the ripped pages of books.

Miraak wondered where Sahrotaar was.

“Mirdein, you have a spear hole in your leg the size of a drake,” Soskro said with the firmness of an argument often repeated, “You’ll sit here til I tell you.”

Mirdein grunted. “Yes, muthsera.”

Miraak breathed on his own now, without the tube down his throat and blurry white mask-faces manning bellows to manually pump his lungs for him. The huffing of the bellows had marked his days in and out of silence, and though something had always felt faintly wrong, Miraak could sense the presence of another close by – one of his dragons, surely, keeping watch against the lurkers – that occasionally pressed into him with tender magics that made his muscles unknot and his body loose and limp. Reassuringly, it still hurt, and the insistent feeling of violation and vulnerability was soothing in its familiarity. Perhaps Mora was feeding him again, or taking from him, and that was why Soskro was there, solid as never before when they’d met in dreams, spoonfeeding him potions that left his mind dreamy.

Soskro had seemed proud when Miraak could breathe all by himself. He focused on it, sucking air into himself until he felt buoyant as a balloon, ready to drift away. Fly, all by himself, in windless Apocrypha, with no dragonwings to hold him up.

“Don’t be smart with me, wife.”

The gentle tones of Restoration magic chimed like the ringing of bells to call the priests to evensongs, and Miraak floated in the sense-memory and wondered vaguely if anyone would be mad if he didn’t go, because he didn’t think he had a mouth anymore, and he thought that was good for singing. He had eyes, more eye than he was used to – had there always been so much to see, to the left of him? – but dim memory told him that he didn’t need to see. Mora would be there, to see for him, see in him, see to him, and his voice oily-smooth would tell him what he needed to do.

The curtains were glowing faintly. He wondered if they were supposed to. It looked like dragonfire caught in glass, like the scales of a fire-drake steaming where it lay in the snow. Dragon eyes and dragon names slipped foglike through his memory, and though he tried to shape the words of forgiveness for forgetting the name of the beast whose hide watched him through the curtains, his tongue was busy holding in all his air.

“I need you alive,” Soskro continued, “not dead on the end of some Skaal blade.”

“It was just a training accident,” said Mirdein, dismissively. “Sulis got too close. Nothing serious.”

“Serious enough for you to be stabbed! Since when did training get so violent?” Soskro’s voice was loud. Miraak thought he might sing to calm the tensions so no one would get bitten or eaten, but there was no space around all the air in him.

“Tensions are rising, Soskro! No one likes being sealed in the temple and you know there’s been accusations-“

His vision was going grey at the edges. Miraak released all his breath in a wheezing exhale. The voices went quiet. He mourned them. Mora so rarely put on different voices to catch Miraak out anymore and send him hurtling down book-strewn paths chasing echoes of memories. It had been one of the games they played. Mora had laughed at it, but Miraak did not remember laughing.

He did not remember most things, these days.

“Is he awake?” Mirdein asked, eventually, and Soskro sighed.

“Higher than a netch in a skooma-barrel, but yes, I think so. He’s staying awake most of the time now, can’t get much out of him but nonsense and odd words, but I think he’s more or less lucid. Taking him off the illusions helped.”

The shadow puppets moved, and then the curtains parted like a wound. Furrowed brows like the iron trellises of Apocrypha’s bridges stared down at him, then a broad-shouldered shape nudged into the curtained off section where Miraak nested. Another shape on its heels, merging together and apart, then Soskro appeared like magic and pushed Mirdein into a chair.

“Serjo.” The voice of Mirdein was back, but closer now. Rough, and warm, like the scratch of Kruziikrel’s sleepy mumbles when Miraak stole a moment of rest on his flame-hot throat. There was a bandage wrapped around her thigh at Miraak’s eye-level, a bloody spot the size of a coin already soaking through. Mirdein was a big woman, big enough to make the chair creak when she leaned forward to get a good look at him.

Some impression that something was wrong tickled him, and his face began to itch unbearably. He tried to lift his hand to scratch it, but his arm was tied to his side, his hand immobilised in a thick swathe of bandages. While Miraak puzzled that out, Soskro leant into his vision and smiled at him.

Red, red eyes, like Laataazin’s blood over his hands, these elves had. He thought they were elves. Soskro’s left hand was golden, and clicked and whirred softly when moved, and Miraak knew that it felt cold and hard, like things that touched his face were supposed to. He did not move away when Soskro’s thin metal fingers touched his cheek.

“Here, Lord,” said Soskro, and then lightly draped a gentle kerchief of silk over his face. The itching soothed immediately, and Miraak sighed against the coolness on his skin. It was the wrong weight – he did not know how he knew, but he knew it was wrong – but it felt more right than before. More right than Mirdein looking at him.

Mirdein exhaled slowly. There was a weight in the shadow of her shape through the silk, a slump of tired shoulders.

“Have faith,” said Soskro, quietly, “He will recover when he recovers. We will hold out.”

“I am patient,” said Mirdein, dourly, but then her voice softened.  “I – and my men – will keep you safe, serjo. Do not fear for my loyalty.”

“Geh, aam-hi,” Miraak heard himself say, as if through a very long tunnel. Yes, you serve me. The world shivered in response, and for a brief moment, he thought he heard the lonely cry of a dragon. Soskro’s soft intake of breath was one of awe.

Mora’s tentacles kissed Miraak’s nose on the inside of the silk kerchief, pulsed dizzyingly in his vision when Mirdein spoke again, firm as bedrock, “As you say, serjo.”

---

Frea clung to a jutting rock not far from the Tree Stone and squinted through the blinding snowfall. She had been crouched in the lee of the rock for some time now and her furs were dusted with snow, until she looked like nothing so much as a sleeping wolf taking refuge from the bitter winds.

Once, the animals had lived in the old ruin beyond the boneyard, wolfcubs whelping in the ancient rooms and birds nesting in the crumbling walls. There had been people, there had always been people in the temple, but only three or four at most, wary of outsiders but content to leave the Skaal well enough alone. As the Skaal had been happy to leave them; the cult of the Traitor could have their dusty ruin hidden behind the heaped skeletons of dragons fused together by time and the interminable movements of ice, no Skaal wanted to go near that wretched place. If the All-Maker did not move to kill them, it was certainly no business of the Skaal.

Of them all, only Frea had ever ventured inside. With the Last Dragonborn at her side, they’d carved a path through the temple with might and strength, to uncover the truth behind the disappearance of Frea’s people. The Traitor’s mind-snare was broken at the Tree Stone and the Skaal freed the night Laataazin had returned to read Herma Mora’s dark Book and confront Miraak – but the animals still had not returned to the temple, and Frea wanted to know why.

Frea pressed a far-seer to her eye and peered through it, hoping to catch a glimpse of swishing robes or patched armour along the top steps. Be they brigands, mostly, and honourless thieves, the cult of Miraak had grown hugely during the domination of the Stones. Yet, there was no sign of them, not even fat-bellied wolves slinking to their dens, or vultures drawn to the fresh carrion. Skorn had once cautioned the Skaal to stay away from the cultists and their dark magics, but Skorn was dead now to Herma Mora, and the burden of nurturing the Skaal’s spiritual connection to their land – and defending it – was Frea’s to shoulder.

And so Frea watched, and Frea waited, and the temple remained quiet.

Better that silence than the one in her father’s hall. The village was alive again, if weary and battered from months of gruelling work without their minds, and everyone felt Skorn’s loss deeply as their own wound. Their eyes were sunken when they looked at Frea for guidance, their hands thin and chapped with rough work when they touched her forehead, and though their hearts still were steady, Frea felt their grief and pain both as a stab of guilt to her own. Skorn would have served the Skaal better, but Frea did not know how to fix their nightmares for them or the days they had slaved that had been stolen from them, and though she could make tinctures for the rasping cough Oslaf had developed since a winter night at the Tree Stone she could not bring back the child that had died that night beside him, whose frozen body was found there still clutching his father’s leg.

Frea burned at the injustice of it. There was no guidance she could find meditating with the chants her father had taught her, well-worn as river stones in her mouth, no peace in trying to discern the will of the All-Maker in the dead that slept beneath the icy ground, but there was the fire of hatred in her heart, and that warmed her as she lay in the snow. Vengeance and safety in the knowledge that the temple was watched, and whatever scourge remained within unable to steal like shadows in the night to rob the minds of her people, she could bring the Skaal, if nothing else.

She dropped the far-seer to root in her belt for a pouch of cold-staying berries, her mitts awkward on the ties. Bags and bags of these she’d gone through travelling with Laataazin Dragonborn, whose southern blood chilled easily, and whose joints were worn with age and battle. It felt almost wrong to eat them by herself now, the tartness breaking on her tongue like a memory. But Frea was a practical person, and sentiment would not stop her freezing to death.

A shadow swept over the snow, and Frea blinked. A bird – perhaps, but no bird was so large – she fumbled with the far-seer, and jammed it to her eye just as the dragon passed over the temple of Miraak.

It was a frost one, it had to be, to fly so high, so fast, through the snow that Frea had not even heard the thunder of its wings. Laataazin had told her there were many different types of dragons, that they each favoured elements but it was best to assume all could flame and frost. Frea had seen them fight a dragon once, gripping her weapon tightly as she guarded the idle mage Neloth at Nchardak. Her heart had been in her throat as Laataazin taunted the great beast, evading its snarling and snapping jaws as it crowed slavishly about its master Miraak, and finally sent it to howling retreat with a final, bone-shattering blow to its leg.

The dragon circled over the temple, its head ducked like it was hunting for prey. It held something in its claws, she thought, for its right leg was oddly extended, not tucked close against its spiney body like the left. Unless – was this the same creature that Laataazin had chased off at Nchardak? It could not be. Had it returned to search the remains of the temple for its master?

Suddenly, from the temple another dragon rose on flapping wings, interrupting the lazy flight of the Nchardak dragon. This one was easier to see against the snow, the colour of a burnished ruby, and it spat fire a ship-length in front of it that the Nchardak dragon had to hastily dodge or risk charring. The two dragons circled each other, exchanging snapping forays too quickly for Frea to keep up with through her far-seer. They did not breathe flame or frost at each other, or clash fully, but instead danced around each other in the way Frea had seen wolves of the same pack play-fight – if a thousand times more deadly.

They tussled there in the sky for a while, but after a certain development that Frea could not spot from her position huddled in the snow some agreement was evidently reached, and the Nchardak dragon tucked its wings and dove into the darkness of the temple, presumably to land. As if flushed out like a hen from the sudden appearance of a fox, a third dragon, jade-green all over, rocketed out from the temple walls with a bitter screech. It was a horrible noise, and Frea’s far-seer tumbled from her hand as she hunched to protect her ears.

The screech cut off, suddenly, and through streaming eyes Frea squinted to see the two dragons left in the sky descending together, their blurry shapes quickly swallowed by the snow. Three dragons, solitary beasts one and all, roosting together in the temple, and one of them Frea knew had been loyal to Miraak once.

Tucking the far-seer back into her pocket, Frea rose stiffly, but cautiously, and crept away from the hollow she had made. She kept low until she reached the wooded line of the trees, then straightened, casting a last, perturbed look over her shoulder. Farani Strong-Voice would want to hear of this.

[alkhale]

so... that new his dark materials on HBO got me feeling some things and thinking... Memos HDM AU?

Memos His Dark Materials AU Ko-Fi Request

(for context for the excerpt down below this, when someone’s daemon makes contact with another person’s daemon, it’s considered very personal and intimate. This is normal between family members and very close friends or loved ones, say, Luffy’s daemon would probably touch all his nakama’s left and right just fine, but for certain others, this may come as a bit of an alarming little sensation for them since people feel what their daemons feel and the same vice versa as extension of their souls)

- Hoku’s daemon is a white panther named Hau.

The two of them don’t get along very well and tend to get on each other’s nerves due to personal reasons. They’re capable of being a fairly good distance apart even though this isn’t normal and considered painful for most people. They sort of trained themselves to be able to be apart because they felt following their independent values was most important. It’s a bit of a messy situation but they’re the first ones either of them would turn to no matter what. He has the same marking she has painted around the curve of his left eye because it’s tradition for Pokians to paint it onto their daemons when they come of age. All daemons from Artopoki are also always colored white just like their hair.

His name means “happiness” in Hawaiian.

- Mahina’s daemon is a white horse while Manu’s is a small white wild cat. Mihawk’s is a massive, massive ink black raven named Sable. She and Mahina’s daemon got along really well.

- Shank’s daemon is a reddish tinted lionness who goes by Reina. Hoku and Hau are a bit smitten by her but Hau kind of hates Shanks, maybe not hate but he tends to be on the more skeptical end of him versus Hoku being a little doe-eyed for the man. Hau loved Mihawk though. Mihawk was the first person to ever touch him outside of Hoku’s parents (human to daemon contact is a super big deal when it’s not family or intimate loved ones, daemon to daemon is a little more tolerable but raises some brows)

- Luffy’s daemon settles as a springy lionness name Soleil who he calls Sol. She’s very energetic and can’t really read a room but she makes up for it with energy. She and Luffy are two peas in a pod.

- Nami’s daemon is an orange fox named Riki, the greatest thieving duo across the East Blue.

- Zoro’s is a massive bengal tiger named Masumi and she’s got a much more approachable personality than her counterpart but tends to be just as lazy and ferocious.

- Usopp’s is a chameleon by the name of Emmo. She’s a bit of a coward too but she’s funny.

- Sanji’s is a beautiful, rather stunning lady jackrabbit by the name of Celine who loves beautiful people and kicking. She seems a little wiser than Sanji.

- Brook’s is the skeleton of a songbird named Aretha. They’re the strangest case on the Grand Line because of his devil fruit. She sings beautifully for a pile of bones though.

- Franky’s is a female beaver named Aspen, they’re pretty much carbon copies of each other.

- Robin’s is a black owl named Yuval. He’s on the quieter side and tends to creep people out on first glance but he’s a very gentlemanly owl.

- Ace’s ends up settling as a red and black lynx by the name of Iskra. Sabo’s is a peregrine falcon named Brisa.

- Vivi’s is a fennec fox named Seti.

- I couldn’t decide of Kid’s should be one hell of a murderous honey badger with attitude named Naga or a crocodile or a bear. Any of those three felt pretty right but I lean more toward the honey badger HAHAHA.

- Law’s daemon is a snow leopard named Estrella. These two are an especially dangerous duo and Estrella tends to be a bit more on the mysterious side at first.

- - - - - - -

“Your blood,” Shank said, cupping her cheek. “Is worth treasures more than his.”

Hau bit at Shanks’ cloak, snarling as a white husky in protest, trying to pull him away. Reina watched him in utter amusement.

Steam exploded from Hoku’s ears, her entire face flushing red.

“Oops, hey, someone get Makino! I’m worried dove’s got a fever!”

- - - - - - -

“It’s nothing but a childish crush,” Hau said pointedly to her, perfectly aware of the fluttery, gross feelings inside Hoku spilling over to him. He walked after her, lashing his tail angrily while Hoku stared up at the sky in a daze. Shanks had just given them a living, ripe kiionohi tree. “He just thinks we’re cute kids. He likes teasing us. This is how he took Luffy!”

Hau worked over-time to remain as indifferent toward Shanks as Hoku originally wanted to be. Hoku had just given up and rolled over to the fact that Shanks was just… so hard to dislike. Was there even a reason to dislike him? Sure, she still got jealous that Luffy was so damn fond of him, but when Luffy was always pulling her around despite that, promising she was his first before anyone else—

“Are you listening to me?” Hau hissed at her, biting her ankle in protest. Hoku looked down at him. “I don’t like him! He’s just another schmuck! Nothing’s gonna happen anyway! Dream on! We’re just kids to him, got it?”

“I know that,” Hoku snapped, cheeks flushing. “I-It’s just adoration. Childish adoration. What do you think I’m gonna do, ask him to marry me?”

“No,” Hau muttered, “but don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m not,” Hoku snapped back at him, lightly nudging his paws. Hau swiped at her. “He’s just… he’s just charming, is all. And you’re one to talk, you know. You look at anyone that’s willing to scratch your ears like they’re god!”

“I don’t let people scratch me behind the ears!” Hau protested. “No one’s allowed to touch me!”

“Yeah,” Hoku snorted. “Except Luffy, right? I feel what you feel too, dumbass. Think about how it feels for me to get scratched behind the ears too, okay?”

Hau grumpily settled down onto his haunches, stubbornly looking over to the side, “But it’s Luffy.”

Hoku could understand that, but it didn’t make the sensation any more normal. Actually, I might be starting to get used to that. Luffy’s so damn touchy it’ll kill me. She didn’t even flinch anymore when Hau and Soleil were pressed tight together, rolling around or tumbling about each other or cuddled up in a pile. Luffy’s warm fingers patting Hau’s head, hefting him up into his arms—that was still something she was getting used to.

Or Hoku, cupping Soleil’s head in her hands, pressing a kiss to the top of the daemon’s head, committing utter taboo. Hoku, letting Soleil cozy up to the crook of her neck, shove her face into Hoku’s hand, weave between her fingers while Luffy laughed beside them—

The four of them, touching each other’s daemons, each other’s partners, each other’s souls—

But I am getting used to it. Hoku shivered. Never touching anyone’s daemon, huh?

Hau lashed his tail, “I won’t let Shanks touch me, you can count on that.”

“You’re just jealous,” Hoku said. “Luffy and Soleil already said we’re first. And it’s not like Shanks is going to be here forever, he’s a pirate, remember?”

Hoku rubbed the side of her arm, looking down at her shoes, “He’s just… he’s just become Luffy’s idol. You see how he looks at him—Luffy knows what he wants to do now ‘cause of him.”

Hau huffed, whiskers twitching. Hoku gave him a little shove and Hau shifted into a bull, ramming at the back of her knees as Hoku laughed, shoving back at him.

Shanks was just a bit of fun, that was it.

- - - - - - - - 

But Reina didn’t play by the rules.

“You’re getting faster, little dove.”

Hoku almost screamed. Her heart lodged into her throat, forcing her to choke as Mau nearly clattered onto the dirt from her hands had she not hooked it last minute. She apologized to the amused blade, checking for scratches and trying to work out a game plan in her head.

Hau frowned. As deep of a frown as an unhappy skunk could make, sitting by a log and looking pointedly Reina’s way.

She didn’t know when Shanks’ daemon had made her way over to them or where Shanks was, probably with Luffy to be honest, but there Reina was, living up to her name.

The lioness daemon was stretched out onto a fat slab of rock jutting upwards from the ground. Luffy used it as a launching platform a lot when they were playing. Her red-gold body rippled, leisurely soaking up the sunlight.

Hoku’s fingers itched.

Reina watched them with golden irises. 

“Thanks,” Hoku said, trying not to be awkward but feeling very much so. “I’m not there yet though.”

Reina’s chest rumbled, a deep sound that made Hau wrinkle his nose in protest. She laid her head down onto her paws, rolling over onto her side. Hoku noticed the scars lining her softer underbelly, the notch missing from a piece of her flicking tail.

“You’ll get there,” Reina said soothingly. “Why don’t you take a break?”

I feel like I’m talking to the devil. Hoku shivered. Temptation incarnate. “I haven’t hit my number of swings yet.”

“Shanks and Luffy are playing by the harbor,” Reina almost purred. “Don’t you want to join?”

Hoku frowned at her boots. Yes. “No. I’m glad Shanks is taking up all his time.”

Reina’s ear twitched. Her eyes glimmered playfully. Hoku felt as though if her feet weren’t planted firmly to begin with, she’d already be making her way over to the lioness for no reason other than the fact that Reina seemed to be beckoning her over.

“How come you two can be so far apart?” Hau blurted. Hoku shot him a look of disbelief. 

Reina’s whiskers twitched in amusement.

Hau hunkered down, waving his big bushy tail. “I-Isn’t it painful? It’s weird, daemons aren’t supposed to be able to do that.”

“You two seem to be able to go fairly far,” Reina murmured. “Is that not strange?”

Hoku and Hau flinched.

Reina laid her head down onto the rock, letting the sun color her pelt. She looked crimson gold in the sunlight. “He and I simply found it in ourselves to promise to live our lives to the fullest and the freest.”

Reina seemed to smile, lips pulling back to show her fangs. “Besides, like this, I can be with Luffy and he can be with little dove at the same time, hmm?”

Hoku and Hau blinked in confusion. They looked at each other and back to Reina who’d rolled over to show them her back, settling down for a nice, long nap.

“Finish up those swings, dove,” Reina purred. “Then let’s play.”

I miss Luffy. Hoku miserably flattened herself down against the grass, Mau propped up onto a trunk beside her. Hau was chirping haughtily in the tree branch above her, flapping his white wings even though he was supposed to be a toucan. I always run off even when he’s playing with Shanks. Maybe I should just suck it up and have fun with them too. Or, not fun. Just… spend time. Yeah.

Hoku groaned, rubbing her sweaty face with her hands.

“About time,” Hau chirped at her. “Let’s go! I don’t care if Shanks and everyone else is there, I want to see Luffy and Sol.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hoku snapped. “I heard ya. You just want to get touched again.”

Hau flattened, ruffling his feathers, “That’s not true!”

It absolutely is. Hoku sighed, preparing her aching muscles to lift her sluggish body up. Hau was practically touched starved and Luffy’s generous pats were like a drug. He did a good job making sure Shanks never got near him though. Hoku didn’t even flinch. Touching other people’s daemons is still such a weird feeling though, I can’t get used to anyone else but them. 

She’d only ever touched Sable twice. Ki and Kekoa didn’t count because they were family. Soleil was the only one she ever really touch-touched, and even then, it was still a sensation Hoku felt all the way to the tip of her toes and down to her bones. Intimate. 

Bet no one else has a daemon willing to get himself pet. Hoku peeked through her fingers at Hau who jumped from the branch and shifted into a little white butterfly. He’d turn into a dog later because it was easier to play with Luffy like that. What daemon goes up to someone to get themselves touched? 

Some taboos just weren’t meant to be crossed.

A shadow fell over Hoku’s face and she blinked, moving her hands away to look up.

Reina looked down at her.

Hoku froze, stiff against the ground like a corpse. Her heart hammered stupidly loud in her chest, loud enough to burst through her ears. From this spot, she could make out every fine, red-gold hair smoothed over Reina’s slender face. She could see the dark lines that traced her feline gold eyes, followed the slope of her muzzle, to the long, elegant whiskers—a few cut short, and the few scars that lined her soft nose. 

This was the closest she had ever been to the daemon.

She could sense heat from the lioness, hulking power and muscle. Reina’s killing paws sat on either side of her head. She could crush Hoku’s skull without much effort. Rip her throat out. In another world, Hoku would be fearing for her life—even in this world, Hoku was still fearing for her life, but, but, maybe death at the hands of such a beautiful, powerful daemon couldn’t be that awful.

Hoku waited, staring at Reina with wide eyes.

Reina blinked once, slowly. Something like amusement seemed to shift over the fine hairs on her face and she lowered her head over Hoku’s. Her body seized up, unable to breathe.

And then languidly, a warm, wet and scratchy pink tongue rolled once across her face, down her forehead to her lips and over her chin. Reina pulled away, satisfied, looking down at Hoku’s disheveled, slightly wet face and bulging eyes before calmly sauntering off, hips swaying.

It took her a moment. A good, solid moment. Her heart did something funny, her body frozen stiff and ascended to some other plain of existence, her mind whirring and still buzzing from the electricity of the slightest contact with—

Someone else’s daemon—

 Reina—

Shanks’ daemon—

Touched—

Hoku’s face blushed a bright, scarlet red. She grabbed her face with her hands and rolled around in the dirt like the little bug she was.

Hau jealously nudged her face with his little ferret nose, huffing and puffing in displeasure.

She’d never been touched by someone else’s daemon before.

- - - - - - - -

The final nail into her own coffin was done by Hoku’s own hands.

At the crack of dawn, when the light was just beginning to crawl its way out of the horizon to peek over into the sky. Just hours before, Hoku had finally shown Shanks the book, speaking with him in the low light of that bar and making a total fool of herself—enough for Hau to tease and taunt her about it for hours until they fell asleep.

She woke up earlier than Luffy today, leaving him snoring in her hammock with Soleil sprawled as a baby badger over him. Hau woke up, slithering into her shirt and keeping himself warm by her stomach as they walked out into the forest.

Reina was already waiting for them.

“Dove,” Reina greeted, velvet voice carrying over as Hoku trudged through the dewy grass. Sunlight was warming her pelt, heating it up like a forge and turning the red-gold of her pelt darker and brighter.

Hau muttered a low, half-reluctant protest. Yesterday, Luffy had picked him up, holding him close and willingly thrusted Hau toward Shanks like some kind of sacrificial offering. 

Shanks didn’t take the daemon, simply grinning in understanding at Hau’s horrified expression. Her daemon had never felt more betrayed.

“Hau, you gotta get along with everyone!” Luffy laughed. “Don’t be dumb like Hoku!”

Hoku couldn’t stop the greedy, uncontrollable itch in her fingers.

“...good morning,” Hoku mumbled, tucking hair behind her ear out of habit. Reina was stretched out, regal and picture perfect on that same slab of stone. Dawn was rising over the fine curve of her spine and the lioness kept her gaze on them evenly, waiting as Hoku slowly came to stand beside the slab of rock.

Reina’s ears swiveled forward. She watched Hoku, eyes glittering. A soft sound left her parted jaws.

Hoku hesitantly took a seat on the rock, a few inches away from Reina. She could feel heat rising from the daemon, her head turning to follow Hoku as they stared at each other.

She weakly raised one hand. Hau’s heartbeat matched her own.

“Could I… Could I draw you?”

Reina’s jaws parted to let out a soft rumble. Her body curved more, keeping Hoku in the middle. Her paws stretched out and Reina kept her eyes evenly on Hoku’s.

Hoku softly set her hand down on Reina’s side. Warmth flooded into her fingertips, spreading up her arm and making half her body feel almost numb with the sensation. Hoku’s head spun, buzzing with that vibrant thrum of energy as Reina’s pelt shifted under her fingertips. Hoku daringly let her hand come down Reina’s spine, feeling the muscles and scars in one gentle stroke.

Reina’s scratchy tongue dragged over Hoku’s hand in approval.

“I hope that man is deep, deep asleep,” Hau muttered. Hoku agreed.

She thought her heart was going to burst.

- - - - - -- -- - -

“This place is crawling with marines now,” Smoker said. “What are you going to do? Let them arrest you like some kind of washed up drunk?”

Hoku lightly pushed the glass in front of her. The bartender nervously refilled the glass, jumping in fear when Smoker glared daggers at him.

“Hoku,” Smoker said.

The woman kept swallowing mouthfuls of the whiskey in her cup, ignoring him. Blanca’s fur had settled over her back, smoothing out. His daemon watched the woman before them in silence, looking at Hau and then back to Hoku.

A soft sound left Blanca’s lips. Smoker shot her a warning look. The smoky colored husky daemon lowered her tail.

“What happened to all that spunk?” Smoker continued. “You don’t give two shits if I cuff you and take you in from here?”

Hoku didn’t even turn to look at them. She kept her shoulders hunched, curling in on herself over the bar’s countertop and refusing to meet the gazes burning into her back. The empty glasses spread out across the wood counter beside her, the heavy smell of alcohol settling amidst the cigarette smoke.

Hau kept silent at her feet, curled up and head low. Smoker observed the daemon carefully, noticing the matted fur, the dirt stains in the crisp white that used to be his go-to for hunting them down in the crowd. His unsheathed claws, caked with dried dirt and blood. The cleanest spot was the blood red ink curled over his half-hidden face under the countertop’s shadow.

A new spot was inked into his fur. A small, blood red flame right where the muscle of his shoulder blade bunched under his right foreleg. Smoker’s eyes traveled upwards to the matching red flame inked into Hoku’s skin over her right shoulder blade.

“This is it?” Smoker said gruffly.

Hoku snorted. Blanca shot him a look, gray eyes hard to read but Smoker never needed to read her eyes, he could hear her thoughts loud and clear in his own head, in the space they shared.

“Who cares,” Hoku muttered bitterly. “You got what you wanted.”

Blanca fell silent. Smoker shot his daemon a sharp look, but she refused to meet his gaze, tail limp behind her and ears pricked far forward, focused on the woman before them.

Hoku bowed her head. Her hands went up, carding through her hair, holding them there as though she were cradling her head in her hands.

“You won,” Hoku whispered.

His daemon took a step forward.

“Blanca,” he warned.

The husky kept her muzzle shut, looking at him.

“Smoker.”

Smoker tossed his cigar to the side. His gloved hand clenched into a fist before it loosened. Smoker let out an aggravated sigh, shaking his head. He took a step forward, raising his hand up.

Hau’s growl ripped through the air like a knife. A single, resounding warning. Smoker glanced down to the daemon, glaring at them with icy venom, fangs and claws bared. Blanca lowered her head only an inch, her only way of showing they meant no harm. Hau pulled his lips back into a louder snarl, tail lashing in aggravation.

Hoku glanced down to her companion, frowning for a moment before she raised her head and looked back at Smoker.

Tears continued to trickle from the corners of her eyes. They slid down the curve of her cheeks, dripping down her chin. Hoku watched him in silence, expression unreadable.

The admiral hesitated for only a second. Blanca let out the softest, softest whine.

For a moment, Hau’s body untensed, staring. The foggy look started to clear. Hoku’s brows creased and Smoker reached out with his gloved hand one more time.

The doors to the bar slammed open.

The light winked out from Hoku’s eyes. Hau stood onto his paws, head lowered, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. 

His men flooded the dimly lit room, raising their guns and shouting out orders as Smoker cursed in his head and Blanca’s ferocious barks of protest flooded the room over his, ordering the marine daemons to stand down.

Smoker lurched, eyes snapping in surprise to where Hau suddenly had Blanca pinned to the wooden floorboards of the bar. His daemon was silent, rigidly looking up at Hau with her teeth barely bared, body still while Hau’s jaws were wrapped around her neck. Smoker felt his teeth on his own, Hoku’s dead eyes looking at all of them.

“Go ahead,” Hoku said coldly. She turned to the marines by the door, half-smiling. “Just don’t forget, Hau’s got one more life over her.”

Blanca kept silent, staring imploringly at Hau. The panther ignored her gaze, keeping his jaws buried in the scruff of her throat, waiting. Smoker stared hard at Hoku and she kept her gaze on his men, expression devoid of emotion.

-- - ----- ----

“Estrella,” Law drawled, ice dripping with the roll of his tongue.

His daemon pounced.

They poor no-body marine dog never stood a chance.

--- --- ---- ---- --- 

“No,” Law said. “This is rehab.”

He kicked Hoku’s lower back, sending her flying down the stairs with an ungoldy screech and down into the boiler room. Penguin and Sachi peeked their heads around the corner, staring down into the darkest depths of their sub while Law shoved a hand into his pocket.

“Is she still alive?” Penguin asked.

“She’s got a couple, right?” Law asked Hau. “Which one was that?”

Hau flicked his tail tip, the only sign of his annoyance. Estrella watched him with peering eyes, following the sway of Hau’s haunches as he slunk down the steps into the boiler room after Hoku.

“Fuck you, Law!” came the ghostly holler. “I’m going to blow up your submarine! You forgot I’m suicidal, asshole!”

Law looked satisfied, turning his back on them and closing the boiler room door. To Sachi and Penguin he added, “Make sure she doesn’t come out until she’s done.”

---- --- --- --- ---

Law froze, his entire body stiff as ice.

He took a moment, reassessing the sensation he felt unfolding in his chest. He considered it carefully, made sure this… this feeling was not a mistake, that he had not wrongly interpreted the shared sensation between himself and his daemon. He picked it apart in seconds, slowly, rigidly turning his head to the corner of the deck.

It was dark, only a single headbeam lit from the corner pathway of the submarine. The deck on top of the rounded hull was bathed in darkness, but even in the thin light, he knew down to his bones he was not seeing wrongly. 

Law gave the woman beside him one discreet, searching glance.

Hoku looked completely and utterly unaffected. He watched her a second longer to make sure it wasn’t an act, but her careless, bored demeanor showed truthfully she had no inclination whatsoever to sharing his barely, barely startled turmoil. Hoku looked completely at ease, still squinting in the distance to see if she could make out the constellation they’d just discussed, mouth moving around the dried fruit she’d just popped into her mouth.

Law carefully, with great composure, withheld the light, creeping shiver that traveled down his spine. He narrowed his eyes, looking back, but Estrella coyly kept her mind blank, hiding all of her thoughts from him the way they’d taught each other to.

There, against the side of the entry doorway, the two of them laid. 

Hoku’s daemon had stretched out, directly in the middle of the deck to keep the perfect distance away from either side of the railings. His long, furred body turned a pale, ghostly shade of white under the moonlight, large paws hiding pearl white claws. Hau’s side rose and fell in lazy slumber, his tail stretched out behind him like a white whip, ears twitching only occasionally.

But the issue was who was beside him.

Estrella had silently made her way from Law’s side across the deck to his. Her lithe, powerful feline body almost nearly matched his in size. Law watched her with rapt, rigid focus, brows furrowed in dark disbelief as his daemon purposefully ignored his silent prodding.

She stopped inches from Hau’s form, sitting on her haunches, tail curled neatly over her paws. Hau’s ear flicked once in her direction to signal he’d noticed, but kept his eyes closed. Estrella stared down at him, icy gray gaze that had stared back as she ripped throats out of marines and pirates and their enemies alike, becoming almost clear.

Estrella rearranged herself, laying down on her stomach barely a centimeter—a heavy, tense centimeter Law could feel—from him. She folded her paws neatly over each other, staring out seemingly in boredom. Her striped black tail flicked from side to side, occasionally brushing against Hau’s limp one. A ghost of a touch.

Touch.

His daemon. Estrella.

Hau didn’t move, tail limp, body relaxed. Estrella turned her head to look down at the other daemon, expression carefully blank. Her tail curled and then the tip of it brushed against Hau’s flank. His fur seemed to shift, bright, scarred pink nose twitching but he remained relaxed. Estrella seemed pleased by this and her tail promptly laid out beside his own, curling idly over his.

Touching.

Law looked back at Hoku and she reached for another dried fruit, popping it into her mouth. She shuffled through her bag, debating whether or not to shove a handful more. Oblivious.

Is your connection to your daemon that terrible? Law almost bit out. Almost. It would have come out calm and cold and collected. Are you that dull? Is it that messed up? Are you an idiot—

He went rigid, gripping Kikoku with white knuckles. 

Law exhaled, slowly. He carefully turned over his shoulder, inch by inch, glaring daggers behind him.

Estrella didn’t even blink at him, eyes trained sideways and away. She looked silver against Hau’s snow white. Her long, raspy pink tongue slid out languidly from her mouth in soothing, relaxed motions. It showed off the dangerous curve of bone-crushing fangs. But Estrella’s tongue was now running over the top of Hau’s face, over his ears, around his neck as she turned her face and—

“Are you grooming him?” Law spat out in disbelief at her. 

The snow leopard lazily flicked her tail behind her in response. Hau yawned, stretching his paws out, unbothered, and resumed his slumber as Estrella continued her grooming, content.

Law ripped apart the shudder that almost raced down his spine. He shoved the sensations traveling from Estrella and Hau’s shared connection, the low buzz of energy, of electricity that came when two daemons touched each. A feeling he’d only ever felt when Corazon’s Rosa would curl her soft, furry body up around Estrella—

He grit his teeth, squaring his shoulders and forcibly maintaining his composure as he promptly knocked Kikoku against the metal railing once.

Hoku looked up, brows creasing. A fruit stuck out from between her lips. She gave him a look, as though he’d done something wrong for disturbing her.

Your daemon is touching my daemon.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Hoku asked.

Do you not feel what I feel?

Law gave her a flat look. Hoku continued to chew.

Go get your daemon—

“Hoku,” she and Law both looked down. Hau’s voice was smooth and not too low, like a melted rumble. He came up to her leg, pressing his big head against her hip and curling his tail over her leg. The white panther daemon blinked blue eyes up at them. Law could see gold.

Hau seemed to examine Law for a moment before his long whiskers twitched. The white panther blinked once. Law stared back at him, curious about the eye contact someone else’s daemon was making with him.

Without even pausing, Hoku’s hand ran over his face, pushing past his soft ears and turning against his cheek to scratch under his chin. Hau lifted his head for better access, a loud rumble filling the air.

Several feet away, Estrella slowly made her way toward them, nonchalant and shifting mass of silver and black fur. She didn’t even acknowledge the icy daggers her other half was fixing her with, haunches swaying as she came up and sat down loyally by Law’s feet. Estrella looked up at Hoku, whiskers twitching.

“What game are you playing?” Law thought at her.

“Nothing,” Estrella thought back at him, innocent. “Nothing at all.”

---- ----- -----

P.S - If you guys like this au, highly recommend checking out 500shadesofblue’s story “Echoes” on ao3, super good.

[timexistsnow]

my baby (oh my pup)

Chapter 4: talk (it out)

Techno and Tasha start to make a dent in the list of Tasha's Needs.

When the sun breached the window by Tasha’s sleeping form, Techno bundled up his notebook and screwed the cap back onto his ink. He’d need to kill some more squids soon. Stepping around the creaks in the floorboards, Techno climbed in over Tasha and slipped under the covers.

His sleep was much easier, getting the words in his head onto paper had soothed his mind and the voices. His dreams were silent for once, his sleep not plagued by nightmares of his own doing. Instead, he drifted, the sounds of Tasha’s oink-snores a lullaby.

“Techno. Up. Time.” Tasha grumbled. With a bleary blink, he sighed, getting a nose full of piglin fluff. He held in a sneeze, not wanting to have to bathe Tasha so soon again. No one deserved to get sneezed on. “Free. Me.”

His arm was poked at and Tasha clacked her teeth together, she was going to bite him again. Bite the arm that was wrapped around Tasha like a vice, securing her to his front. Ah. He scooched back and released her so she could trot over to the chest of clothes. The dandelion was still resting on it, but Tasha cupped it with two hands and set it into Techno’s lap.

“Oh, I’ll have to water this soon, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to kill your flower.” Techno shrank down, the poor flower was wilting to the point of turning a pastel yellow. At least it wasn’t full of seeds so he didn’t need to worry too badly about it falling apart, but the sorry sight of it made Techno blush.

In the middle of pulling on a pair of villager pants, she shook her head, her ears slapping into her face, “Yours! Do. What. Want.”

He shrugged, got out of bed, and let the flower rest on his chair next to his notebook. Tasha’s oinked at the sight of the ink and quill, she knew what was up, “Not yet, okay? We’ve got a full day ahead of us and we don’t want to waste time.”

She glared up at him but turned around to get her coat. She would need a sweater, Techno thought. Red, maybe, or blue. He had a habit of decorating the house with blue accents. Hmmm, a possibility.

They set up for breakfast, Tasha in her Pig Throne and Techno pulling out the food. Just as he had predicted, they were running out of potatoes. With his list out on the table, Techno could see the scrawl of Tasha’s Needs. The first task on the list was to make a farm. Time to be the Potato King. Did that make Tasha the Potato Princes? Techno snickered and explained to Tasha through bites of carrot, “We’ll do the farm, you should be able to help some. I’m a kind of legend when it comes to potatoes, so try to keep up.” When Tasha shrugged, “I can see you mocking me.” Another shrug. Nerd.

After Techno had eaten his food and offered a carrot to Tasha, he sighed to himself at the mere hope that she wouldn't wrench it out of his hand. Giving her a look of disdain, they got up and outside.

Tasha was adamant at being put down, wiggling in Techno’s grip. He obliged, and she started to waddle her way through the snow, exposing a path of frozen grass in her wake. “You. Help?”

“Make a snowman? No, we’ve gotta make a farm, Tasha.”

“What. Me. Said.” She grumbled the piglin word. Nope.

“Hey, that’s bad language,” great, he was turning into BadBoyHalo. She repeated the word, her excavation paused. “That’s the one!” His face shuttered, “Don’t say it again.”

Tasha opened her mouth but at Techno’s expectant look, she closed it. And opened it again, “Mean. To. More. Than. Me?”

“Yeah, kiddo,”

“Oh. Thought. Was. Supposed. To. Say.” She twisted her fingers around themselves and pulled at her ears similar to how Techno would when he was nervous. “Do. Not. Like… Word.”

“Then don’t say it.”

Tasha looked flabbergasted at that like it was the first time she wasn’t forced to call herself… ah. The piglins weren’t nice to her. She oinked and went back to moving the snow.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Me. Told.” She squealed, “Farm,” like it was obvious. Hmm, the area wasn’t ideal, being right next to the cabin. If someone saw the farm then it might ruin his image. But…

“Oh, thanks. I can put down some torches to make it faster. Unless you’re having fun?” Tasha nodded at fun, well, he should stop standing awkwardly. He pulled on his gloves- special make to fit his pig hands. Tasha was working bare-handed, but he didn’t have another pair, only the one mitten. She’d have to go inside to the warmth soon. Or, he could just place torches, but working alongside her was… nice.

Techno opted for making a snowball and rolling it along the grass, picking up snow as it went. Speaking of snowmen, “I’m gonna to show you a cool thing, okay?” Tasha peaked around her shoulder at him, tilting her head at Techno’s growing snowball. Waving her over, he instructed her on how to roll it. By then, it was too big for Tasha alone so Techno helped above her.

“The thing has two of these, so we don’t need to put too much effort into this one. I can tell it’s getting a bit much now.” Tasha was how he could tell, Techno having to put most of the muscle into it even as she pushed with all her might. It was nice to do something together, so Techno wanted her to be able to contribute.

The first done and the second on its way over to the first, the snowballs were about one block tall each: perfect. Techo told Tasha to back up and hefted the snow block onto the first one. It was more effort than he would like to believe. It was not because he was short. Everyone else on the server was far too tall. Plus, he’s a pig, so calling him short would be racist. The snow was just… heavy.

“Just. Tall. Snow?”

Techno snapped out his thoughts, the voices quieting their insults at Tasha’s question. “I’ll get a pumpkin, then you’ll see.” He jogged to the storage room and dug through a couple of chests. When he turned around, carved pumpkin in hand, he almost stepped on Tasha. She was shivering. “You should stay inside. Watch from the window, maybe.” The fire by Edward would warm her up.

She shook her head, ears whipping around. Okay, “I’ll- I’ll bring the fire outside?” Edward must have heard him, vwooping loudly, “Or, I’ll make a new one and put it by the farm.” He would just have to keep the snowman away from it.

Back to the chests, he went, rooting around for some coal, wood, and sticks. Finding them, Techno crafted a campfire. His flint and steel was already in his inventory, picked up back when he first planned to get wither skeleton skulls. That was only a few days ago, huh.

The fire was placed down first, lit so Tasha could get immediate relief from the bitter cold snow. She scuttled around it so she was on the opposite side to Techno and the half-built snowman.

Techno readied the pumpkin, “Prepare to be amazed.” In the blink of an eye, the snowman was alive. Tasha oinked, little hoofs stomping in a happy dance. The snowman glided towards her, snow dusting back to the ground. Techno figured that Tasha’s face was worth the extra work.

And then it wasn’t: Tasha stumbled to the ground as the snowman pelted her with snowballs. No: ice balls. Techno yelled out in terror. One last ice ball was volleyed, missing completely when Techno body slammed the snowman into the fire. He scrambled out of the melting slush, snowman already dead. Good.

Techno crawled to Tasha, still curled up. She shook when he pulled her into his lap, so he put his front to the fire. “Tash, I promise that I had no idea that would happen.”

She buried her face into his chest, but Techno saw the bruise forming over her left eye. He should have known. Instead of sitting there uselessly, he carried her inside and gave her a health potion. She looked hesitant, but Techno poured some into her hand anyway. With a gag, she licked it off. Pour, lick, pour, lick. They continued in silence, the voices growing louder. How could he have been so stupid?

How could he make this right?

He pulled out his notebook, flipping to the correct page. “The piglet stumbled through the forest, hoofs catching on roots. She couldn’t stop now, not when she was so close. Her breaths burned in her throat, puffing out into clouds.”

Tasha gasped and raised up her hand. When Techno attempted a smile, she patted his face. A real smile replaced the old.

“Finally, the forest started to thin, pine trees becoming prickle bushes. Up ahead a stream surged, not quite frozen over yet. There were stones, each close enough for her to just about be able to hop over.

“She skidded to a halt at the bank, water lapping at her hoofs. If she fell in she would surely freeze. There was only one shot at this.

“The first stone proved to be the easiest, only a block or two from the bank. The others, those would prove to be a struggle.

“Water splashed up at the piglet’s pant legs, soaking them. The frigid wetness startled her, making her stumble on the way over to the second stone.

“Oh, no!” Techno’s voice came to life. His monotone was gone, replaced by a storyteller's excitement and rapture, pouring his soul into the story. “She was tipping over! She refused to be killed by a stream and flapped her arms out like a chicken, regaining her balance. The piglet stuck her tongue out in concentration, water wouldn’t be the end of her.

“She had far more pressing matters, the stream needed to be crossed- now!

“A beast stumbled out of the brush, locking his gaze onto her, bellowing out!” Techno let out his war cry, Tasha oinking with pure joy. She patted his face and Techno continued.

“She froze, petrified. But, she had no time to be scared, she had to go.

“Fear made her quick, adrenaline made her nimble. The last couple of stones were hopped across and she went back to stumbling through the clearing on the other side.

“Her hand reached down to snag a dandelion in her hurry wanting a souvenir for her bravery,” Tasha paused in her patting and covered up the writing with her palm.

“Not. Soo- Souveen- That,” she bunched up her snout in frustration, “Gift!”

“... oh,” Techno… liked gifts. He hadn't gotten one in a while, the last one being a gag gift from Tommy and the one before that being a sword. This was nice. Tasha poked him and uncovered the book, rescuing him from his crisis.

He found his place, “Only a true hero would fight the beast as valiantly as she had.

“And what a fight it was! Cannonballs of snow and ice launched at deadly speeds. After taking one to the snout," Tasha grumbled at that, "she realized that the fight was not in her favor. That wouldn’t mean that she would lose, however.

“So run she did, far away from the battle, the beast gaining on her.

“Yes! Her flight would not be in vain: her castle was in sight. The front step in reach-

“No! The beast lunged, grabbing her into its maw.” Out of the story, Techno snuggled Tasha even closer than before, making Tasha giggle and snort.

“She would surely perish now. Embracing defeat like a true hero, she let out a sorrowful plead to her ancestors, begging for a swift death.” Tasha startled him by squealing out. Had he hurt her? She ended the squeal with another giggle, she was playing along.

“The beast was not merciful, digging its claws into her sides, making the piglet squeal out.” Techno dug his fingers into Tasha’s stomach, tickling her. Please don’t freak out, he begged, his plans almost always went right, but this was new. And just like that, Tasha was snorting and oinking, squirming in Techno’s lap. He chuckled, this time Tasha only grew louder, her piggy feet kicking around.

After a few more tickles, Techno stopped and Tasha panted, collapsing into his arms.

“Relentless it was, only vanquishing its attack when her energy was spent. She had no hope of escaping now.

“It bundled her up, immobilizing her. The beast would take no chances.

“To her cell, they went, surrounded by the beast’s bounties: texts of old, ones that she could not begin to understand.

“When she was deposited to her cot, for a moment she had hope for freedom, attempting to wiggle out of her bonds.

“The beast was no fool, seeing her attempts easily with its all-seeing eyes. Knowing that it would be foolish to leave her to her own devices- she would figure out escape soon enough- it wrapped itself around the piglet like a dragon to their egg. Its red wings lied on top of her, entrapping her further." His cloak came to encircle Tasha.

“How pitiful it was, to be at such a loss. There was no hope today. She was trapped.

“Tonight, she would bide her time. It was impossible for the beast to remain vigilant all hours of the night. Eventually, it would slumber.

“Then, she would strike.”

Techno closed his book, the pup heavy, or as heavy as her tiny body could be, and falling asleep. Techno smiled, cuddling her close as he carried her up the ladder to bed. It was nap time for her.

Tasha blinked up at him when she felt the soft wool tucked around her. Her voice remained just as soft as her yawn, “More. Please.”

Techno cooed, “That’s all I’ve got- right now. I’ll write some more just for you, pup.” She closed her eyes, accepting his answer. Soon, soft oink-snores were leaving her lips and Techno sat crisscrossed on the floor at the bed.

There were things to do, the list- even the farm- was nowhere near completed, but he… didn’t want to leave the sanctuary Tasha had created with her quiet sleep noises.

So Techno stayed by her side, studying his, or rather Tasha’s, cloak. The stitches were simple, he could probably recreate them. Out came the scissors and thread and Techno hacked through the cloak, cutting it a third of its old size. He ripped the fluff lining the edges off of the discarded fabric and sewed it back to the newly hemmed edge. It wasn’t great but it would definitely be more serviceable than the old cloak. Safer, too.

It had nearly been midday when Tasha’s nap started and was now hours later, Tasha beginning to stir. Techno reached for her hoofed hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. Small.

Tasha pulled his hand into her mouth- and the moment was ruined. Kind of.

She scrubbed her eyes with her other hand and stopped chewing on his fingers to let out a squealing yawn.

“Come on, we’ve got some more work to do,” he said gently.

Instead of hopping off the bed, she rolled off and into Techno’s lap, right onto the new cloak. Techno tugged at it, signaling for her to move. Once stood, he kneeled down and fastened it around her shoulders. It fit really well, a nice surprise.

“Thank. Techno!” she spun in a circle, her cloak billowing out around her, not dragging like it used to.

“We match now,” Techno smiled, “When I fix up your clothes it’ll be perfect.”

Tasha giggled and jumped into his arms, wrapping herself around him. He took his bundle of piglin down and outside. No more games. No more snowmen.

Relighting the fire, Techno pulled out his shovel and got to work. Tasha stayed curled up by the fire, “What. We. Farm?”

“Potatoes, remember?”

Tasha hummed, “Better. Than. Hoglin.” Pardon? Techno blanched. No, she wouldn’t have… but what else would piglins eat? It made sense but was no less horrific.

“What should we feed it?” one of the villagers asked. Someone behind Techno’s pen replied, “Pigs’ll eat anything, right?” They both snickered and chanted: “For science!”

“You’ll never eat pork again.”

“I. Like. Potatoes.”

“Even without the gold?” he welcomed the subject change, however incidental it was.

“Yes,” she said, “Why. You. Like?”

Techno thought about it for a moment. If anything, he should hate potatoes. With the months he spent farming them endlessly- no he knew why, “When I was farming them in a competition, the Potato War,” Tasha nodded, following along, “I was doing it out of mindless competitive nature. Back in Pogtopia- that’s where I used to… work before I came here- I was doing it out of duty. Now, with this farm… I guess I’m finally doing it because I want to.”

“Tasha. Want. Too,” she got it.

They continued in companionable silence, just the moving of snow and Tasha’s snorting breaths to accompany him.

In the middle of the circular clearing, Techno dug a hole. When it froze almost immediately, he went inside (Tasha tagging along) to get a fence and lantern. Studying his ender chest, Techno shrugged, he might as well go all out.

Two diamonds, two sticks and Techno had a hoe. He needed to be even more extra, if just for the voices' cheers and enjoyment. A netherite ingot and a Fortune III book, the achievement popping up in chat.

No one responded. It would be fine. L’Manburg would just think he was fully embracing his retirement, not being a threat. He sighed, his image might be ruined but Tasha would have food. There was a clear winner.

Tasha could help with this part, once the water was saved. Techno started hoeing the ground, getting in the groove. Between breaths, Techno told Tasha, “Grab some potatoes from the pile, you can plant where I’ve hoed.”

She scrambled over to the potato pile he had made for her and grabbed some spuds. Her tiny hands could only hold a few, so it would be slow and tedious progress, but Tasha didn’t seem too bothered.

Techno was finished first, not to his surprise. He walked along Tasha’s potatoes, studying them. A few he adjusted but most were deemed adequate. They weren’t up to the Potato War’s standards, but this wasn’t a war, this was life. Life with Tasha.

Walking over to the potato pile, almost two-thirds finished, he scooped up as many as he could carry and joined Tasha in planting, Techno starting at the other end of the farm.

After another thirty minutes, they met in the middle, Tasha jumping into his arms. He held her up above the farm so they could both view their handiwork. “I’d say that we did a pretty good job,” Tasha patted his face and he patted hers back.

They had some more hours left, Techno reasoned. His carrots were growing scarce, of course, he could always trade for more, but this was… fun.

Techno picked back up his shovel; Tasha sat by the fire to rest for a moment. The hours ticked on by. Blisters formed on his hands. Techno didn’t mind. Not one bit.

[yastaghr]

Nightmare’s Gang of Wranglers 2

Sorry for the long wait! I've been dealing with some crippling back pain and only just found a medicine that helps with it without making me loopy. I'm going to get imaging sometime in the next two weeks to see what the hell is wrong with me this time. Then I see my new doctor again! In the meantime, enjoy this long-awaited chapter 2!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341953/chapters/63698353

Dream made that final turn into the driveway to the ranch and sighed. It looked absolutely perfect. There were fields of hay blowing in the wind and huge tracts of grass dotted with horses. All of the horses looked happy, not too thin and not too fat. There were old ones, too, who clearly were getting to enjoy their retirement. Dream had to resist the urge to go and pet them. They wouldn’t take kindly to a stranger trying to touch them, even if he did have treats.

A little bit further up the road Dream came to the main house. It was huge, practically a castle, with so many windows and doors that Dream lost count. In front of the house were three giant trailers on the back of three king cab trucks. Dream could see horse noses poking out of the windows, and it brought a smile to his face. He couldn’t wait to cuddle one. He loved the smell of horses more than anything. There was something about that smell that soothed him like nothing else could.

Standing in front of the trailers in a loose line were the wranglers, but Dream had eyes for only one. His brother was standing there, tentacles waving in the wind, with his hands in his pockets and a slight frown on his face. He looked good, even after all these years. Something inside of Dream relaxed when he saw his twin. He was okay.

Dream parked the car and jumped out of the Jeep, tucking the keys into his jean’s pocket. Blue and Ink jumped out after him, Blue in old jeans, Ink in a pair that was brand new. They lined up with Dream as he stared at his brother; Nightmare and his gang of wranglers facing off against Dream and the Star Sanses. It was one of Nightmare’s group, a black-boned skeleton that was somehow even more glitchy than Geno, who broke the silence.

“Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I’d like to get out on the trail before it gets dark. Why don’t you go get your bags and we’ll load them up?”

Dream blinked at him. His brain was lagging a little bit behind. When he got it, he smiled and ran for the back of the car. “Oh! Before we head out, I have a little treat for all of you. I have some for the horses, too, but they can wait until we hit camp.”

All eyes were on him as Dream pulled out the box full of treats. It was huge! He grabbed a container out of it and held it out to the wranglers. “I know you’ll like these, brother, but I hope everyone else does, too!”

Nightmare visibly hesitated in front of Dream. Then, from one second to the next, he went from being empty handed to holding a little homemade candy bar in his hands. He stared at it for nearly a minute before he said, in a voice that had haunted Dream for years, “Is this… one of our Mom’s apple pie candy bars?”

Dream nodded. His voice hardly shook at all when he said, “Yep! I brought enough for everybody to have one every day if they want. She always did say to take care of the people who help you, so I do! Um… is that okay with you?”

Everyone pounced on the package of treats as Nightmare nodded slowly as he stared at the treat in his hand. Then he turned his attention to the treat box. “That’s more than enough for two weeks, Dream. Unless you brought extra?”

Dream waved his hand dismissively. “The rest of the box is full of treats for the horses. I made your salty oat treat for them. I’ve never met a horse that didn’t love them. Or a mule, for that matter. Don’t worry, I wrapped them in wax paper so the horses can’t smell them in the packs.”

Dream was too wrapped up in watching his twin to register the expressions of the rest of his gang, but they all had grins that were growing by the second. And here they’d been worried that this monster had forgotten everything he ever knew about horses. Two minds in particular were thinking something else. Cross and Killer saw the way Nightmare was standing and reacting, saw the way Dream was focusing on him, and came to the obvious conclusion; i.e., that they needed to set the twins up on a date as soon as possible. Dream was definitely worth keeping.

Killer looked around to take in the reactions of the rest of their crew, since it was obvious that Nightmare was too busy to do it. Those reactions had him raising an eyebrow. Not all of them; Dust, Horror, and Sugar all seemed to be confused more than anything else. It was the other two that had him wondering.

Cross seemed more than a little pissed at the stranger with the paint vials. The feeling didn’t seem to be mutual. The other (and what kind of a monster carried around paint vials like bullets?) had interesting eye lights. At first, while he was looking at the horses in the trailer, they were a blue horseshoe and a yellow star. Then he caught sight of Cross. His eye lights changed into a question mark and an orange square. Then, between one blink and the next, they changed into a red exclamation point and a green four-leaf clover. Killer had no idea what those symbols meant. He hoped he could learn soon.

Error’s reaction was even more interesting. He seemed embarrassed when he looked at the short skeleton dressed all in blue. The other just seemed happy to see him. He was waving at him like he’d just seen a long-lost friend. Error quickly looked away and pretended not to see him. Very interesting.

It was Killer this time who broke the silence with his silver tongue. He bowed to the Star Sanses and gestured to their car. “Well, cuties, these treats are perfect to warm our bellies. Why don’t you set your bags into their own piles? We’ll be happy to get this packing business started.”

Dream and Nightmare blinked at him, even as Nightmare absentmindedly stuck his treat in his mouth. His face was never the best for showing his positive emotions, but it radiated pleasure today. Killer could tell that he’d missed those treats. He also knew that he would refuse to admit, even to himself, that he’d missed his brother, but it was obvious that he had. He hadn’t missed the creature he had thought Dream had turned into, but this Dream, the real one, didn’t seem like that at all. Looks could be deceiving, though, as Killer well knew. He’d reserve judgement for later.

The Star Sanses didn’t have much luggage, just five boxes. There was the treat box, one suitcase each for the blue-clad one and Dream, and two suitcases for the paint guy. That’s okay. They’d allowed for two each, given that it was a two week trip and these were city slickers. What they hadn’t allowed for was the contents of the suitcases. Three of the suitcases were filled with clothes. The last suitcase, one of the paint guy’s, was filled with jugs of paint.

Killer could feel the energy radiating off of Nightmare, and it was anything but positive. Most of the rest of the crew was almost laughing out loud. Paint guy couldn’t have picked a worse thing to pack.

“What. Is. This?” Nightmare asked, barely able to keep the fury out of his voice.

Paint guy didn’t seem to notice it. He laughed and waved a hand. “Oh, that’s just my paint. I need it to feel emotions since I don’t have a soul. Weird, right? I’m pretty sure that’ll be enough for two weeks plus a few days extra in case of a big event.”

Everyone was stunned for a moment. At least, everyone from Nightmare’s gang. Dream actually burst out laughing, and his laugh was sweet and clear. Killer wouldn’t mind hearing it again. And again. And again. He definitely wanted to keep Dream around, not only for Nightmare’s sake, but also for his own selfish pleasure. He was already plotting his next move, and at least the next half dozen after that. Killer was a planner. At least, he was when he wasn’t actually fighting someone. Then he just let his instincts carry him through.

Dream recovered from his burst of laughter and wiped his eyes. “Ink, we’ve talked about you just saying that. You’re supposed to be more gentle, remember? Gradual introductions are key.”

Ink’s eyelights changed into a blue question mark and a yellow hourglass. “Um… No? I don’t remember that. Did I write it down on my scarf? Should I have checked my scarf before I said that?”

Dream nodded. “It’s near the first quarter mark, Ink. In the green pen.”

The scarf was removed quickly, then folded and scanned. Killer noticed the hundreds of scribbles in different colors along its length. Were all of those notes? He wasn’t quite sure he believed that there could be a monster who was that forgetful, but the scarf said differently. Killer was pretty sure that a notebook would have been a better choice.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, my bad. My memory is horrible. Souls do more than give you emotions, they give you a big memory, too,” Ink explained.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but Error cut him off. Error looked ticked off, which didn’t surprise Killer. Error’s default state was angry. It was part of his charm. “How the hell are you alive without a soul? That’s what gives us monsters our lives, not to mention our magic and our personalities. Without a working soul you die! Everybody knows that!”

Ink shrugged in an extremely unhelpful manner. “No one’s really sure. Lots of doctors have tried to figure it out. They haven’t figured out how to give me a soul, either. Right, Blue?”

The third of their guests jumped. He seemed nervous, and Killer instantly picked up on it. He couldn’t figure out why, though. They hadn’t even done anything threatening yet, not that they would. They had money to earn, after all. Killer had even put his trusty knife into its sheath and hidden it under his jacket. No one who didn’t know him would be able to tell that he was wearing it. Dust’s and Cross’s magic knives were both not summoned. Horror’s butcher knife was hidden in his packs. So why was Blue nervous? Did they really look that threatening?

“Y-yeah, Ink. None of them have been able to figure it out, and you won’t let them run any more tests,” Blue accused, “despite the fact that there are several promising new ones that might show them how to help you.”

Cross, unexpectedly, laughed. Killer’s skull whipped around to face him, but his other mate was already waving him away. Killer’s eye sockets narrowed. Oh, did he want to fuck the answers to all this mystery out of him. Well, that could happen later. Right now they really should be getting packed and then out on the trail.

“Okay!” Killer said brightly, “Since it’s pretty clear that you need these paints to show us your wonderful personality, I’ll pack them for you while the rest of our gang gets everything else squared away.”

Everyone turned to blink at him. Then they got to work quietly… except for Ink. He seemed to be unable to stop himself from talking. Killer could see the way that Nightmare’s tentacles were waving, and he decided then and there that he would put the chatterbox towards one end of the line so Nightmare had to deal with him as little as possible.

Time passed. Nightmare surveyed the lineup of their little caravan one last time before they started out on the trail. Everyone was mounted on their horses or mules. Nightmare was on Razz, already ready to ride sweep.

Riding at the head of their troop was Killer on Slim. Nightmare trusted them to lead them safely along any trail in the mountains.

Second in line was Ink. Ink was quickly becoming Nightmare’s worst nightmare (heh). He never stopped talking, he had those stupid paints, he had never even seen a horse before, his jeans were stiff; every little thing about him quickly got on his nerves. At least Rustle seemed to be able to stand him. That horse would put up with anything or anyone.

Error followed after, mounted on Shadow. There was no way Nightmare was putting anyone else next to that chatterbox. Error would just have to suck it.

Dream came next. He’d actually been the last to mount; not because he had forgotten how to ride. No, his mounting was too smooth for that. It was because Nightmare had almost literally had to pry him and Classy apart. Nightmare had forgotten how much Dream loved to just snuggle with the horses. He was addicted to the way they smelled.

Cross was next, on Honey. Killer had insisted that he be in front of Blue. Cross was gentle company, and Killer had told Nightmare in a moment of privacy about Blue’s skittishness. Nightmare hadn’t argued with him. He trusted his mates implicitly.

Next was Blue on Berry. Nightmare had learned that he was once an accomplished horseman, but some kind of an accident had led to Blue getting bucked off. He needed Berry’s steadiness to build his confidence back up. Nightmare could respect that. Besides, he was the shortest out of the entire group.

Ghost carried Dust next. He always rode in front of the pack mules, so that was where he was. If Blue could handle Ink’s nonstop talking he could handle it from Dust.

Crown, Regal, Cherry, and Boss followed one after the other. They were good mules (except for Cherry, who was a good horse). They wouldn’t cause any fuss or problems. They knew better by now than to do that. Besides, they had ridden this route before. Bar something unexpected it was highly unlikely that these solid pieces of horseflesh would so much as bat an eye.

The final two mules were Pumpkin, carrying Blood, and Shanks, carrying Sugar. Those lovebirds always rode tail. Nightmare was never sure how the guests would react if they found out about the two brothers’... arrangement. He hoped it never came up.

That was everyone, and every cinch strap and tie was perfectly in place. Nightmare couldn’t really get away with keeping them here any longer, so he didn’t. “Alright, everyone. Remember what I said - yes, that means you, Ink - and try not to get yourself or anyone else hurt. Understood? Good. Then it’s time to move out.”

Slowly, one horse at a time, they headed out on the path that would lead them into the mountains… and their future.

[askbittyerror]

Outside the center is an Error. A big one. A very big one. Just standing there awkwardly, looking around, kind of hunching in on himself. People are staring at him and he seems like he wants to be anywhere but here.

“Hello?” Huitzi steps outside, looking up at the nearly twenty feet of skeleton. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Titan.” The Error says, sticking his hand out and nearly bashing Huitzi in the face.

“I am Huitzilopochtli, but you may call me Huitzi if you so desire.” Huitzi says hesitantly, taking Titan’s hand only to yelp and drop it.

Titan sort of wince-smiles and shoves his hand in his pocket, glitches climbing up it.

“Weird name.” He says while Huitzi winces and tries to massage the feeling back into his fingers.

“I am aware.” Huitzi frowns. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m looking for someone.” Titan says, leaning down to peer through the windows. “He’s real small.”

“Sir, this is a bitty shop.” Huitzi flares his wings, their gold blocking the glass. “Nearly all of our residents can be considered such.”

Titan grumbles and stands upright again.

“About as big as my thumb.” Titan says, sticking it up to demonstrate.

“We have many bitties in that size.” Huitzi sighs. “If you are looking for a companion to adopt, I will be more than happy to bring a few out to meet you, but if you are trying to find a certain individual you will have to be more specific.”

The Error scowls.

“Little skeleton, black skull, some stars going up his face, purpley blue limbs.”

“Does this skeleton have a name?” Huitzi asks.

“Jack.”

“I see.” Huitzi sighs, slapping a hand on the rune carved into the door and drawing his weapon as a glowing shield encases the center.

“Is that a fucking barrier?” Titan takes a shocked step back.

“I am afraid I must ask you to leave.” Huitzi levels his spear at the giant. “You are not welcome here.”

“What?” The Error asks. “But I didn’t even do anything yet!”

“Jack does not want to see you.” Huitzi says, keeping his weapon raised. “Please leave or I will be forced to attack.

“Are you serious?” Titan asks incredulously. “I come here peacefully, am polite and don’t do anything to hurt anybody and you decide to threaten me?”

He scowls and wipes his eye, hand coming away covered in string.

“What makes you think that’s a good idea?”

Huitzi’s grip tightens and his wings flare.

“Jack is one of ours now and I am this centers protector.” He proclaims. “I will not allow you to take anyone from within it.”

The Error frowns, his strings going slack. He squats down to Huitzi’s level, his head still a good distance above the Paladin’s.

“Listen, buddy,” Titan says, voice calm and patronizing, like he’s speaking to a small child or someone too stupid to know better. “I know this is your job and all, but can’t you make an exception just this once? Jack isn’t from this universe anyway, you aren’t obligated to protect him. It’s no skin off your nose if he just vanishes, and I promise I’ll leave your universe intact if you hand him over.”

“Absolutely not.” Huitzi growls, spear flashing red. “He is under my protection and that is final.”

Titan sighs deeply and stands back up.

“Alright, fine.” He says quietly, a huge bone club materializing in his hand. “I’ll try to make your death quick.”

“You will not get a chance!” Huitzi snarls, stabbing his spear forward and jolting as it’s yanked out of hands by strings before it can make contact.

“Wh- give-!” Huitzi’s words cut off with a scream as the club collides with his side, Titan taking advantage of his distraction and hitting him hard enough to dissolve a lesser monster.

Huitzi’s entire ribcage and pretty much the rest of him crumples like tissue paper and he flies across the street into, (and partially through) a parked car.

Titan walks towards him, every step he takes shaking the ground and crushing displaced bone into a fine powder.

“I’m sorry.” The Error softly says, club above his head, the skeleton below him reduced to nothing more than a wheezing pile of bone fragments and marrow.

But before he can bring it down he takes a huge blob of paint to the side that knocks him through a light pole and into a portal.

The Ink that threw it snaps the portal shut and rushes to Huitzi’s side, panic on his face.

“No no no, you can’t die yet, not when I’ve just found you!” The short human kneels, pulling out a small, green-tipped brush and swiping at the cracks in his bones. “C’mon, c’mon! Stay alive!”

Huitzi groans, his body reconstructing as the paint touches it.

“I’m- I’m alright!” He says, pushing the Ink’s hand away as he continues piling paint on his newly repaired chest. “You’ve healed me, thank you, you can stop now!”

The Ink puts the brush away without a second thought and yanks Huitzi up into a hug.

“Oh Dream, I’m so happy I’ve finally found you!” He grins, squeezing him tightly. “Didn’t think you’d be a swap though or a skeleton, since I’m not and all, but whatever, who cares, we can figure that all out later! I’m just so glad things are finally going the way they should!”

“I- I apologize,” Huitzi says, gently pushing the excited Ink back. “But I believe there is a case of mistaken identity. I am merely a being based on a Dream, nothing more.”

“Oh.” Ink says, expression going blank as he pulls away from the hug. “Goodbye then.”

“Wait!” Huitzi pushes himself up from the smashed remains of the car, wincing from the residual pain of his body not yet realizing its been healed. “Please, I may not be who you are searching for, but that does not mean I cannot help!”

The human watches him thoughtfully as Huitzi bows.

“I would be honored to fight by your side, Guardian of the Multiverse.”

The Ink stares at him for a moment more then breaks into a smile.

“I’m Nouveau.” He says, holding a hand out in Huitzi’s direction and grinning more when Huitzi takes it.

“Huitzilopochtli.” Huitzi says in turn, giving his hand a shake.

“Pleasure to meet ya, now I’mma need to just take a quick look-” Nouveau says, yanking the red-gold soul out of Huitzi’s chest with a flick of his fingers and letting the Paladin collapse with an agonized scream.

He hums to himself, turning the glowing apple over in his hands and prodding at it, each touch dragging a whimper from its owner.

“Good attack, decent defense, a little XP, nowhere near enough LV but that’s easy enough to fix, and oooh-” He pokes a bit harder, causing Huitzi to yelp. “That’s a lot of determination for someone not actively melting!”

Nouveau drops the soul with a grin, letting it thud back into Huitzi’s chest.

“Oh yeah. I can use you.”

With a swipe of his brush, a portal opens and Huitzi falls through it before he can even react.

“I look forward to working together!” Nouveau yells into it, slamming the portal shut and vanishing himself from this universe as a whole.

With Huitzi gone, the barrier falls, its occupants free once more.

[dunkleduck-blog]

PROJECT: redacted.

LEGEND. Eyelids were opened slowly, sunlight registered through the slip. You groaned at it, slowly adjusting your sight with the brightness. The smell of buttercup was the first scent that came to your sense. Your eyes blinked. Where were you? The last memory you had had in your mind was a huge explosion and white light blinded you. You heard a scream, inhuman ones and the rest wasn't really registered through your mind. It was such a horrible scattered memory if you think of it. In which just lead you to get a minor headache as you tried a little harder to remember. You jolted yourself up, as found out that you were being cushioned by a patch of golden buttercup underneath you. You blinked again. Odd. You didn't remember of ever laying down or laze around, over somewhere so serene and quiet. You wish to but you were sure you ain't the lazybone-type. You think so to yourself. Just beside the spot where you had laid upon, there was a clipboard with several paper clipped on it. Without a second thought, you picked it up. Thanks to the sunlight in which shone brightly from the crack above you, you managed to read it. Or so you think. Chicken scribbles, somehow looks like a journal of someone... No page was empty, all of them being showered with lots of words and words. You could make out some of them. * ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, written by FRISK. Supervised by-- You were unable to make out the name since it had been smudged over with a black charcoal-like ink. It was either someone doesn't wanted to be recognized or it was being smudged by accident. You can't tell. You flipped through the pages and caught some of the words that was visible. * xNxxxFxLL... * xxxxxxWAP... * xxxxxxxxx * xCExxTxxx * xxxxxWOxLD... And a couple more that you unable to make out the words. It was like a list of a world or some place... Ah- Universes. Just like the title had mentioned. But thing is... Why would you hold onto this kind of information? Must be important, you thought. So, you were entitled to hold on this, really. You took a quick glance on the last page, exasperatedly. There was a chicken scratch beneath, similar with the rest of the scribbles. "DON'T FORGET." All in CAPS, as if a reminder for the owner of this clipboard or whoever written this. You gulped, blinking a few again. "Well, I need to find a way out." You spoke to yourself, glancing around. You noticed that this cavern wasn't really unusual. Just like your typical hideout or a bear cave? Maybe. Nothing special on it like inhuman scratches or ancient doodle. Hah, you wished. On your back is a dead end, while up head... You can't see whatever beyond unless you make your way through. Usually, that would be the last option you would do, as you waited for any help. But this time, that, would be the first thing you would do. Sometimes you just have to break the rules, right? Chest rose and fell, you sighed heavily as you clutched the clipboard against your chest. You started to walk forward - But to no avail, ten-eleven-twelve steps ahead and you fell into the dark. Dark, darker, yet darker. You were screaming on top of your lungs but were cut off by the rush of wind went through your ears. It was as if you were screaming out air and no voice. As deep as you fell, you could feel a warmth tingled your cheeks despite the cold air sliced through. The blindness of dark now shone brightly, almost burning your sight. Again, you were blinded by this familiar light again. * * * * * You can feel the breeze blew against your cheeks, gently. Soft grass swayed back and forth, tickled your nose. Oh, joy. The earthly ground smells. It reminded you of... your home. A place where you belongs. You felt real heavy to stand up despite your heart, your mind told you so. This body betrayed you, enjoyed this minor scenic. You just wanted to rest. The journey was nothing but hell, being pushed back and forth while you have no slightest idea of where were you now. You sighed. And that's when your ears started to pick up a conversation. An unfamiliar voice. It was soft, as if they were talking to someone. Oh, so there were TWO people talking, huh? Hmm, you wondered what they were talking about but only fell to deaf ears. You could feel yourself started to fade out, draining back to unconsciousness until a loud thud pang within the radius of your hear sense. You jolted up almost immediately, heart racing as if they were going to jump out. Like a shockwave electrocuted thorough your entire body. "quite shocking, huh? how long are you gonna pretend to sleep there, kid?" Your eyes were blinking in surprise. The voice knew you were already up but apart from that, you knew darn well of whose voice belongs to. Your heart skipped a beat. Are you... no. Of course not. Slowly get up, you held onto your head, trying to gain any balance of yourself. While the other hand still clenched onto the same clipboard over your chest. You need to stay on your ground again but as soon as your gaze laid on whoever had woke you up, you froze. You can see a huge black-scaled dragon with vicious yellow slitted eyes dagger-glare at you. Infront of it was a pair of... pegasus? A winged horse? Well, you must be dreaming because you were sure that kind of fairy tale animals don't exist. Your mind refused to believe. But then your eyes glued on something or rather someone, far more interesting. It was a pair of tall skeletons. How tall are they? 6 feet? 7? Uh, you were sure it must be 8 feet tall. They are sure tall and pretty much like a mirror. Opposite to each other. A bright-innocent-looking skeleton and well... another skeleton. Doppelganger? Clone? - You can't tell. But his scowled face was terrifying and judging by that, he wasn't satisfied with your presence. Disgusted, even. And you were right about it. "CLEARLY, THE STONE OF DERCAS IS BLOODY USELESS. BIG FAT LIAR, NOT EVEN TRUE BUT A BORING WORTHLESS WASTING MY TIME. CEASE THIS. CEASW THIS DIRTY ROCK. CEASE THIS PEASANT FROM MY SIGHT." He stomped the ground again, pretty much pissed off. The metal boots crushed deeply into the earth, leaving a foot mark on. You looked up at him. His appearance was all black. From his shiny metal armour down to his metal boots. You rubbed your temple, head a little spinning after listening to his tantrum. Seeing your vulnerability, the other skeleton came to approach you. Bright scarlet gloves grabbed onto both of your shoulders, squeezing a little. A hint of reassurance. But for what exactly? The scarlet cape behind him blew by the wind. He looked like some kind of heroic figure in which you end up snorted. "HUH? WHAT IS IT, HUMAN? IS ANYTHING WRONG? WELL, IF ANYTHING WRONG, THAT WOULD BE BLACK. AS HE SHOUTED NONSENSICAL AT YOU. DEEPLY APOLOGIES FOR HIS BEHAVIOUR, HUMAN." He beamed with a smile. His words, his apology, everything sounds so genuine you just can't say no. "It's fine. Really. Don't worry about me." And this other skeleton now... He was donned in gold and red. A resemblance of royalty. Well, if this is some kind of color theme or pattern, you can see it clearly. You made a mental note to yourself. "V-VERY WELL THEN. OH! WHERE'S MY MANNER. I DIDN'T EVEN INTRODUCE MYSELF. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SECOND COMMANDER OF THE SKELEGUILD. AND THIS IS - " "THE GRAND MASTER BLACK, THE TERRIFYING. BUT IT WOULD BE SUCH A HASTE AND WASTING MY TIME TO - OUCH! GRR, YOU DON'T HAVE TO HIT ME LIKE THAT, YOU - UGH. FINE. THIRD COMMANDER OF THE SKELEGUILD. NOW, WHERE IS THAT LAZYBONES THE BROTHER OF YOURS?" "just right here." And that caused the tall skeleton to jump on his own boots, bones rattled. He was about to curse but the shorter skeleton shot him a sharp glare. As he turned back to you, he looked rather casual and... curious. "sans, sans the skeleton. just some mercenary passed by." He held out his hand to shake, in which you were hesitant to. There was a small spark within you, as if you had known this skeleton over thousand years but you still can't quite figured it out. A sense of familiarity. You stared down at his gloved hand and shook it. "so, what's your name, kid?" "Uh... My name is ___" Nice one. You just made up whatever name crossed in your mind. Well, you knew you are not Frisk, the name on the clipboard and that name alone sounds pretty weird for you. Apart from these two skeletons whose named after a certain fonts, you don't wanna look funny on first introduction. "So, where am I?" The three of them shared glances at each other before nodding. "well, papyrus and black will take you back to the guild. i will tag along from the back. just got stuffs to do." "I WILL EXPLAIN TO YOU BRIEFLY WHILE ON OUR WAY TO THE SAFEST SAFE HOUSEHOLD!" "UGH, WHY DON'T WE JUST TELL THEM RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW. STARS, YOU BOTH ARE SO INFURIATING." "BECAUSE THAT WOULD RUIN THE SUPRISE!" "TCH WHATEVER." -wip-