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sunstone-smiles · 2 years ago

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Fern and Splatter's Discoveries: A Creature with a Sparkle

Trying something different this time! I hope you all enjoy it!

—

The Shine Upon a Clifftop

The presence of a mystery itself is never solved by simply observing. It requires exploration to actually find out the answer that evades discovery.

A young Hisuian sneasel emerges out of a dark cave into the crisp open air, her eyes adjusting to the morning light seeping through the clouds. Fern’s brother dashes out in front with his claws pounding in the short grass, while their mother walks out beside her. The rocky cliffs of the Coronet Highlands tower over their presence, creating walls of stone that make up the grotto that shelters them.

Fern stretches her little arms as she basks in the slight chill of the land. Her purple patches of fur on her face, chest, and wrists are surrounded by a border of white, while the rest of her body is its usual lavender color. Splatter reigns himself in and runs over next to his sister. Despite the two siblings being twins, Splatter’s coat is fairly different. He has similar purple markings on his face, chest, and wrists, but the rest of his body is covered in the same colored splotches of fur as if he was splattered with large globs of ink. His lighter lavender fur fills in the rest of the gaps left open in his unique pattern.

The kits both look up at their mother as she prepares to leave for the day. Lady Sneasler is gathering some berries and other food to have in the cave, but she said that her children could go play at the nearby lake while she’s gone. She gently growls at both of them to behave and be safe, then licks the top of their heads to say that she’ll be back soon. She turns away and trots down the grotto. Her kits wave goodbye until she’s out of sight.

Splatter looks to his sister and squeaks with a grin that shows off his little fangs. He tugs on her arm for her to follow, then dashes off ahead towards the other side of the grotto. A small cloud of dust kicks up behind him, promptly making Fern cover her face with her claws. She growls at her brother, who had already run off without her, and she carefully opens her eyes to make sure there’s no dirt lingering in the air. She grumbles as she brushes off the few grains of soil that had caught on her fur.

Crack-

Fern jolts her head up when she hears the sound of a twig snap in half. She shifts her focus towards the direction of the cliffside that stands across from her, trying to scope out who or what had made that sound. She can’t see what lies above the cliffs, but nothing unusual seems to be out of place. Many pokemon make their home in the Coronet Highlands, so it isn’t unusual to hear a rustle or two every once in a while; it’s just that the sudden crack had surprised her. She straightens her back to take one last look at the cliffside, but heads off to join her brother once she can't spot anything.

A few hours go by and the sun appears in full view after its cloudy veil is removed. Splatter’s been enjoying himself in the water, careful to stay close to land so he doesn’t get swept up in the rougher currents. He splashes in the refreshing lake then dries himself in the warm rays of light, only to repeat the cycle and get himself soaked again. His wet fur drips with the cool liquid, making his speckled pattern look smudged. Fern, on the other hand, sits at the edge of the lake to bathe in the sun. She doesn’t want to get herself completely wet, but she still enjoys the mist that clings onto the wind and blows over her fur. To keep herself occupied, she picks up a stick that had fallen from a nearby tree and draws in the moist dirt, creating random shapes and patterns just to bide the time.

Crack-

Fern’s ears immediately perk up. There it is again. Another branch snapping nearby. She pinpoints the source of the noise, this time coming from the clift right behind her. Whatever is making this sound is up there, above the rocks. It’s probably just a wild pokemon, but Fern wants to know an exact answer after hearing this for a second time in one day.

She places the stick down and turns to scale the cliff that slopes upwards like a steep hill. She grasps onto the rocks with the help of her curved claws and starts pulling herself upwards, making sure to also find her footing on smaller protruding rocks so she doesn’t slip off. With every vertical step, she moves away from the ground and ascends the cliffside higher and higher.

Once she makes it to the top, she clings on tight and peeks her head over the rock’s edge, her tiny nose just reaching above the rim. Looking down, she sees a flat, grassy plain that resides on a lower clifftop. The other side of the rock she’s standing on slopes downward towards the field, creating a slide-like path. Fern pulls herself up a little more to get a clearer view of the land and notices something moving above the short grass.

With its wings flapping rapidly like a hummingbird, a Scyther hovers over the earth. Its bladed claws hang to the sides of its rounded body. However, this Scyther seems different from the ones that Fern has seen. The bug type down below is green, yet its coloration seems darker, a more vibrant shade than usual. Not only this, but the rectangular sections above and below its abdomen, as well as the parts of its thin legs and hips unprotected by its shelled armor, is a bright magenta that pops from the green surrounding it. A visible sparkle seems to come off of the pokemon, making its coloration shine within the field.

The bug type flies over a patch of flowers with its wings quietly buzzing. It glides itself to a nearby tree and cuts one of the branches off to trim it, which makes that same snapping sound again that Fern heard earlier. The twig falls to the ground in a pile, then Scyther scoops them up to clear them away from the tree’s roots. Once that task is finished, the bug type makes its way back to the patch of flowers and hovers their blades right over the white petals. With delicate strokes, the Scyther scrapes off the drops of dew that were dampening the colored leaves, careful not to slice the soft floral skin of the plant. It must have been trimming and maintaining the foliage around the area since this morning.

Fern watches the creature in silence, observing the dainty movements of this peculiar pokemon—but an abrupt high pitched squeak right behind her shoulder snaps her out of her hushed viewing. Fern lets out a startled yelp and loses her grip on the rock, directly slamming backwards into Splatter, who had accidentally sneaked up on her to find out what his sister was doing. The twins tumble down the cliff, rolling into one another, until they thud onto the flat dirt beside the lake.

Fern pushes herself up and dusts her body off, checking for any injuries in the process, while Splatter stands on all fours and shakes off his fur from dirt and excess water like a drenched kitten. Fern shields herself from the spray and hollers at him to stop, now slightly wet after being hit with her brother’s leftover water droplets. She narrows her eyes at him, then wipes her paws off, until she realizes that their tumble had made quite the commotion. Fern audibly gasps and quickly stumbles back up the hillside; but by the time she peeks her head over the top again—the Scyther is gone. Fern darts her red eyes around as she scans the area, attempting to locate where the mysterious pokemon went, but there’s no sign of the unusual colored creature. Only the pile of twigs and white flowers they had manicured are still swaying in the breeze. Fern drops her ears and chirps to herself in disbelief.

Splatter climbs up next to Fern and looks out at the plain, unsure what exactly his sister is searching for. The slightly younger sneasel twin tilts his head and squeaks for his sister to explain the situation. In a series of quick, chattery chirps, Fern tells her brother of what she saw and how there was a discolored pokemon just at the plain below. Splatter yips in surprise, unsure if this could be true, but Fern reassures him with a half squeak, half growl that she definitely saw what she saw.

Suddenly, the twins hear their mother calling for them in the distance. Her cry bounces off the walls of the grotto and up to their ears. Splatter immediately detaches himself from the side of the cliff and plops onto the ground to get ready to leave. Fern takes one last look at the empty plain, until Splatter squeaks from below to hurry. She makes her way down and catches up with her brother.

As she dashes home, her mind races about the mystery behind that creature. There’s no doubt that it makes its home in the Coronet Highlands, but the vast size of the area to a little sneasel makes its location virtually unknown. Still, it's not impossible to find. The odds may be low, but there’s always a chance of running into it again, wherever it may be.

#Fern and Splatter's Discoveries: A Creature with a Sparkle #Sneasel twins Fern and Splatter #pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #pla #hisuian sneasel #lady sneasler #scyther #shiny pokemon

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trouble-off-grid · 3 years ago

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Keep you safe

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CW: Blood, death

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When Techno had awoken he was not surprised to find himself alone in his cave. Tommy has always been prone to adventure, often leaving early to explore their surrounding area. So seeing the little figure no longer on his chest when Techno awoke didn’t shock him. He trusted his pseudo-brother not to get into too much trouble, at least not this early in the morning.

Unfortunately for him Tommy had never been very good at staying out of trouble. He was out in their surrounding territory, making his way over to the fresh river he knew was nearby. He had always loved the river and would often force Techno to take him as nearby animals would find their way there for water and Tommy was able to gaze at them as they did so. It seemed the river was always at peace and Tommy wasted no time in throwing his body onto a large rock and bathed in the sun. Closing his eyes he let himself get lost in the peaceful sounds of the river and nearby animals.

It was this that presented him with the first sign of something being wrong. It seemed a hush had fallen over the forest as even the birds seemed to silence. Tommy sat up with a frown, stilling as he scanned the forest edge for any potential threats. Not immediately spotting anything he slid off the rock and slowly creeped into the forest careful to keep his footsteps light as he did so.

The further he went he almost convinced himself nothing was wrong and that he could just return and brag to Techno about how brave he was making sure nothing was wrong within the forest. To his left he heard noise loud enough to snap him out of his thoughts, head snapping towards the area. He debated going close as it seemed the noise was coming from the edge of Technos territory and the elder never liked when Tommy got too close to the edge without him there for protection.

Steeling his nerves he turned away from the direction he knew would lead to home and made his way towards the noise. A grin stretched over his face as he figured Techno wouldn’t be upset if he never knew what Tommy was about to do. With his mind made up he trekked through the foliage with ease keeping his footfalls silent as he did so as the noise became loud enough to decipher what it was.

What first appeared as nothing more than indecipherable sound soon turned into words. Tommy felt himself freeze as his brain processed what he was hearing, humans. Now it might seem hypocritical of Tommy to dislike humans when he himself was one but despite being the same race he had never found a comfort in them that he did with Techno. The giant piglin had shown Tommy what family truly was supposed to be and gave him a chance when no one else would even spare a second glance at the boy.

So hearing humans in front of him only served to sour his mood as he approached them to get a better idea of what exactly he was dealing with. The logical part of his brain that sounded suspiciously like Techno told him to just return home and let Techno deal with these strangers. He snuffed out that thought quickly, Tommy was a big man and he didn’t need to bother Techno when he was already here and was just as capable of getting the humans to leave.

Finally, he was right in front of the group, being careful to stay out of sight as he glanced at them. The first thing he noticed was that it was a decently sized group, with more people than he would have originally thought. The second was that they had a decent amount of weapons on them. Now he’d like to believe they were just normal hunters who unknowingly entered a piglins territory but the give away was the shiny armor they all had displayed. Each member seemed to be done up in a fancy display of armour only leaving their helmets off.

There was no denying, these were kings guards, and they weren’t just hunting for animals, they were hunting Techno. The king believed Techno to be no more than a mindless beast when that couldn’t be further from the truth, it was always the knights who attacked first while Techno was just defending what he cared about. It was time Tommy returned the favor.

He glared at the knight who was currently sharpening his blade, he couldn't just sit by and let this happen. Tommy stood from behind his cover and started walking towards them making sure they could hear him approaching. As soon as the group took notice they stood on guard and Tommy had to stop himself from breaking his calm facade as they pointed their weapons at him. “Fellas, fellas, no need for that, we're all friends here,” He put both hands up trying to show he meant no harm.

“What is a kid like you doing out here?” What looked to be the head knight spoke out.

Not going into this with a plan besides trying to get them to leave he felt his palms start to sweat as he spouted out the first thing he could think of, “I want to be like you! A knight, I mean,” he clarified.

Chuckles broke throughout the group, the same guard as before tried to muffle his laughter yet amusement remained clear on his face, “You? A knight? You’re nothing more than a scrawny little kid”

Blood rushed to Tommy's cheeks at the jeering, even though he was lying it still hurt to be laughed at. The guard didn’t even know how hard Techno and him worked to get some meat on his bones, if he thought he was little now he should have seen Tommy before he met Techno. Faced with humiliation Tommy resorted to what he always did when embarrassed, yelling, “I could be a knight! I’m the biggest man there is and could beat anyone in a fight!”

The man's eyes seemed to glow as he sneered, “Is that so?” He seemed to lean in closer as he said the next words, “Even the blood god?” It seemed all laughter had stopped at just the mention of the infamous name, of course he was referring to Techno but Tommy was one of the few who knew his real name.

Keeping up the facade a smirk grew on his face as he answered, “Please, even the blood god is scared of me, it's why he doesn’t go in this area”

The tension seemed to leave the air as it was replaced by amusement, “And how would you know that, hmm?”

Tommy had to restrain from rolling his eyes at the question, reminding himself that the goal was to get the knights to leave, “All of this area is mine and never once have I seen the blood god so clearly you have the wrong place”

“On what rights do you have to claim this area as yours?” He questioned.

“On the rights of finders keepers, I claimed this area as mine therefore it's mine,” In truth the area was Techno’s but that wasn’t information they needed to know.

The guard let out a huff at his response, “Well no matter, you’re with us now, might as well make use of you” By this point most guards had gone back to what they were previously doing before the interruption.

Tommy may not have thought this out, he didn’t want to stay with them he was just trying to get them to leave! “I really think you’ve got the wrong area, big man.”

“Well then, there should be nothing for you to worry about.” Before Tommy could ask him what he was on about he felt someone grab his wrists from behind and they pressed their knee to his back forcing him to fall to the ground, wrists still captured in the unknown person's grasp.

He stared up into the eyes of the knight in front him and could see a dark gleam in his eyes as he crouched down to be eye level with him, “You said you wanted to be a knight? Well this is how you can help us out, nothing like live bait to encourage the blood god to reveal himself.” He felt his mind buffer at what had just happened before finally his brain processed what was happening, he was going to be used as bait against Techno.

Oh Techno was going to be so mad when he found out Tommy willingly walked up to his now captors.

In his defense this wasn’t how he planned this interaction turning out. The knight seemed to take his silence as fear and grabbed him harshly on his shoulder dragging him up with him as he stood. He was then pushed into the person behind him, “Go tie him up, and make sure you draw blood,” there was no sympathy in his voice.

“Wait wait wait, you really don’t have to do this,” It wasn’t that he was scared of Techno, he knew Techno would rather lay his life than hurt him, he was more scared of what would happen if the hunters did manage to get the jump on him. Techno was always protecting Tommy and Tommy just wanted to return the favor and look how that turned out. With his hands currently being tied together behind one of the thinner trees leaving him trapped to it.

He could deal with this until Techno inevitably showed up; it may have been uncomfortable but it certainly wasn’t the worst. At least until a blindfold was forced over his eyes and a gag shoved into his mouth. “Sorry kid, it’s nothing personal,'' Tommy really began to struggle, now fueled with the panic of losing his sight, he tried his best to let his displeasure be known with how he was trying to curse out the knight despite the gag.

The knight's cold grip was firm on his wrist before an unbearable pain shot up his arm. He felt his breath stutter at the sensation of a knife swiftly cutting up his arm, even though it only took a second for the skin to cut, the pain remained a pulsing fire. It’s nothing personal, the knight claimed, Tommy was tied up and bleeding out but it wasn’t personal right? Bullshit.

Finally the knight released his wrist and Tommy flinched as the rope touched the open wound, the feeling of it making the wound sting all the more. “It’ll be over quick,” is all he was offered before the sound of the knight's footsteps left his hearing, leaving him all alone in the forest with nothing to do but hope for Techno to come before the blood loss.

Tehno had just finished tending to the land, making sure the livestock and vegetables were kept up with before he realized something was off. It was too quiet, and with Tommy around things were never quiet. It wasn’t unlike Tommy to go running off but he always came back soon enough, either to bother Techno or just be in his company. He looked around, sniffing as he did so, and confirmed that Tommy wasn’t just hiding nearby trying to surprise Techno.

Looking to where the sun was he saw it was just barely starting to get dark out and while more likely than not Tommy had just lost track of time it made him antsy that it was going to be dark soon and the boy's location was unknown. He couldn’t help but to be protective over Tommy, he was just a little runt and the piglin would do anything to keep his pack safe.

The more he thought of reasons Tommy might not be back yet the more he felt his instincts lead him to action. Soon enough he had caught the faint scent of Tommy and though it was old, clearly from this morning, it was still prominent enough for the piglin to track. Techno found himself unsurprised that he was led to the river, he couldn’t help but smile at the fond memories this location brings. But he was on a mission and couldn’t get distracted until he was sure his ward was safe. The smile slipped off his face as he kept going, a soft frown replacing it as he found the scent heading towards the end of his territory.

Techno’s eyes dilated as what once was a comforting scent was tainted by the distinct smell of iron. The piglin tried not to run when near the runt as to avoid any accidents but this would have to be an exception as Tommy was still missing and definitely bleeding. After that it took no time at all for the giant to reach his goal, spotting Tommy, his family, his pack, tied up and bound like that made Techno see red. Even though Tommy couldn’t see due to the blindfold he definitely heard the giant's footfalls as he was trying to move his head to gauge where the noise came from, Techno’s heart only broke more when Tommy attempted to call out to him.

“I’m here Tommy, I’ve got you, you are going to be okay, I promise.” The giant descended onto his knees, and gently reached out to his brother, tapping his knuckle on his shoulder to let him know Techno was there. Tommy leaned into the contact feeling safe just by the piglins presence and Techno couldn’t find himself to remove his hand using his other to carefully reach around to cut the ropes that bound the boy to the tree.

Right before he could, he felt a prick in his shoulder and looked to see a minuscule arrow lodged in his shoulder. A growl reverberated through his chest as he looked at the area where the offended arrow had come from, spotting a soldier perched with a bow. It seemed with the first hit the rest of them took that as their sign to attack as well. His eyes glowered dangerously at the attackers, easily able to knock down any who dared to get too close, “Are you the one’s responsible for this?”

Though Techno had asked, it was clearly a rhetorical question as everyone was aware of who was guilty of restraining the teen. “We’ve come to best you, blood god!”

Technos head snapped in the direction of the voice and based on the appearance spotted what seemed to be the head knight. With a speed no human could ever hope to match, Techno had reached down and snatched the guard right off the ground, holding him in a fist tight enough he dropped his sword as he was raised. He bared his teeth at the tiny enjoying the look of panic on his face, “Best me? You can’t even hurt me.” There was no mercy as Techno slowly squeezed the life out of the guard. As a reaction all the guards started up again with more vivour but Techno felt no pain, even when one succeeds in hitting him, the attacks are nothing more than an inconvenience to the giant.

It was hearing Tommy whimper that brought him out of his rage, looking over to see where Tommy was previously standing; he was now sliding down the base of the tree. Dropping the nuisance from his hand, not caring of how he landed, he paid full attention to Tommy. Once again dropping to his knees in front of the boy, this time using his arm to encircle him as to make sure nothing could get to him. Without any interruptions he finally was able to cut the rope, freeing Tommy.

Tommy for his part immediately went to take off the blindfold with his now freed hands and it was then that the source of the blood he smelt earlier was shown. On Tommy’s left arm the vein was clearly cut open, blood oozing out as there was nothing to stop it from doing so. Blood was getting all over the young one’s clothes as he moved from untying the blindfold to the gag. Techno couldn’t stop the concerned rumble that produced from him if he tried, seeing his pack hurt like that was making his instincts scream. At the noise Tommy finally looked up at him a lazy smile covering his face, “How’do” he slowly spoke, eyes hazy.

“Oh God, okay, Tommy I need you to stay awake for me alright?” Panic filled his voice he reached out to his little brother noticing how Tommy seemed to absentmindedly follow his movements. Going limp as Techno gently scooted Tommy until the human was fully sitting in his hand. Using his teeth he ripped a piece from his cape and handed it to the boy, “I need you to wrap that around your arm for me, okay?”

Tommy mumbled something that was too quiet for Techno to hear and slowly started to wrap his arm, occasionally flinching from the pain. Techno brought him close to his face just barely nuzzling him with his snout, “You did so good, I just need you to do one more thing for me okay?” Going cross eyed as he watched the boy nod his head he continued, “I need you to keep talking okay? Tell me about what animals you saw at the river.”

“I sawa..deer, it looked tobe..female causeof her…horns..I guess just allthe woman…flock to me.” Despite the slurring Techno let out a relieved sigh, even when dealing with blood loss, Tommy still managed to stay, well, Tommy. Slowly bringing his hand down, Techno cupped it against his chest keeping Tommy tucked close, no could hurt him from there.

Making sure he could still hear mumbling coming from the runt he slowly stood back up, turning around to stare down at the people responsible for Tommy’s current state. All softness left his face as he looked at the knights, replaced with a steely glare that if it could, would already have them six feet in the ground. They were all in one area, surrounding their captain to see if he was alright. Good, this would make Techno’s job easier.

These humans had come into Techno’s territory planning to kill him and not only that but they had hurt Tommy and as they were about to learn, no one hurts Techno’s family. The giant piglin felt no pity as he finished off the guards, easily wiping them out with just one step. They received a death too quickly for Techno’s likening but the life he was holding in his hands was and always would be more important.

Bringing Tommy back up to his face he couldn’t help but to sniff Tommy, trying to find any other spots on the smaller that were bleeding. At the insistent air blowing over Tommy he couldn’t help but to let out a little laugh at the feeling, Techno’s face brightening greatly as he heard the noise. “I knewyou’d save me,” with his uninjured arm he patted Techno on his snout, blue eyes staring into red.

Techno started to purr as he gently squished Tommy against his cheek, knowing just how much the teen liked the sound and at being able to have his pack so close to him, “I’ve got you Tommy, I’m going to keep you safe” and Tommy full heartedly believed he would.

#gt mcyt #mcyt gt #giant!techno #tiny!tommy #trouble writes #I really hope ya'll like this #There wasnt enough big brother Techno #bedrock duo #bedrock due my beloved #Part 2 anyone?

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 3 years ago

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Can’t wake up

It felt like you were floating. You were so sleepy, and you felt like you were floating. The white noise in your ears, was it the sound of waves lapping at the ocean shore? Because that would explain why you felt like you were floating. It was so peaceful and calm, being weightless and relaxed in your own personal sea of tranquility. You drew in a deep breath and sighed, allowing your worries and anxieties to wash away with the constant lapping of the tide.

Somewhere, on the shore maybe? You could hear a voice. Deep and clipped, a rumbling staccato buzz in the back of your head. Whoever he was was calling your name. The sound of the waves, the lull of the ocean - the pull was too great, and you couldn’t hear what he was saying. Just that his voice was strong and masculine.

The gentle tug of the waves was washing you out deeper into the ocean, but you didn’t fight it. You allowed yourself to float, buoyed by the water, eyes closed and relaxed.

“Come back to me!” The words cut clear through the static of the water, and you felt yourself jolt from floating to just laying. Had this man grabbed you? Was he trying to pull you back to shore? Were you in danger? From him? From the sea? The waves wrenched you from his hands, and again, you were floating. You considered listening for his words again, but the gentle rocking motion of the water lulled you back into relaxation and you could feel yourself drifting away from shore again.

“We’re losing her!” The man’s voice was starting to sound panicked, and again, you jolted into awareness, just for a moment. A shot of pain ripped through you as you felt him drawing you back to the shore. The waves dragged you back and you felt yourself flail and start to sink, just for a moment.

XxX

“We’re losing her!” Steve tore your tac suit open, baring your chest, and started chest compressions. “Get the medkit for me! I need the shears!”

Tony shoved the back toward him, and Natasha pulled it open, grabbing the shears from the top and handing them over quickly. While Steve sliced through your sports bra, Nat readied the defibrillator. Steve held a hand up to stop her from placing the pads, and continued the chest compressions and rescue breathing.

XxX

The floating sensation left you, and you felt yourself being dragged down by the undertow. You tried to paddle against the straining waves, but couldn’t so much as move your arms. You vaguely remembered your surf instructor telling you to swim with the current toward the edge of the riptide, and tried to manoeuvre yourself to where you thought the waves might be gentler, but you couldn’t. You broke through the waves, gasping, and finally fought against the drag until you were out of the rip and floating again. You rolled back onto your back, closed your eyes against the sun and floated.

XxX

You’d drawn in a deep ragged breath, and then fallen back unresponsive.

“Tony?” Steve asked. Tony dropped his visor and starred at you.

“She’s got a heart rate. It’s slow. BP is low. Oxygen sats are crap. We need to get out of here and get her back to the compound. Nat, get us up in the air,” he ordered. Steve pulled the oxygen tank off the wall of the quinjet and attached a mask before attaching it to your face.

“I can’t find anything wrong with her, Tony,” Steve sighed, throwing a blanket across your naked form. “I don’t suppose that suit has a CT in it?”

“No such luck, Cap,” Tony shook his head. “We’ll get her in the cradle, she’ll be fixed up just fine.”

Steve entwined his fingers in yours and leaned against the bulkhead of the quinjet. “I hope so.” XxX

You washed up on shore with the changing of the tides, and felt your skin prickle against the sun. Fighting the exhaustion you felt from your swim against the riptide, you sighed and stretched out on the sand. You yawned and opened your eyes as you rolled onto your side, and saw a beautiful woman sitting on a rock observing you. She was stark naked, but had drawn her legs up against her chest. The sun refracted off her skin, which was gleaming ultramarine, complementing the regal blue of her ultramarine hair.

“I didn’t think mermaids had legs?” You asked. The pitch of her laugh felt unnatural.

“You tell me, I’m only here because you summoned me,” she replied. You propped yourself up on an elbow and looked at her, and then around the beach.

“Am I dead?” You asked.

“No.”

“What’s wrong with me then? Why am I here?” You asked.

“Your brain is protecting you.”

“From what?” You demanded.

“From feeling the pain.” She was nearly expressionless as you spoke, and refused to offer more information.

“What pain?” You were getting frustrated.

“Intercranial hemorrhage.” Her voice was soothing at least. “Now rest. Or you’ll never wake. Stop fighting and rest.”

“If this is a dream, I won’t get a sunburn?”

She laughed again. “No. You’re quite safe from that.” She rose and stepped back to the water’s edge. “Rest.” She dove into the shallows and when she resurfaced, you saw her tail breach and slap the water in acknowledgement.

You took her advice and laid back down, closing your eyes against the sun, and allowing your body to rest.

XxX

Steve sat beside the cradle, partially stripped out of his suit, just watching you. Nat came over with a glass of water and nudged him.

“Go have a shower, get some food,” she recommended. Steve shook his head.

“What if she wakes up?”

“I’ll be here. She’ll know I love her more,” Natasha teased. Steve scowled. “Steve, you won’t do her any good stinky and hangry. Go get washed up. There’s a chicken rice bowl in the kitchen with your name on it. I’ve got this.”

Steve sighed and pushed himself to his feet, leaving the quiet of the infirmary. Natasha looked down on you and flopped in the seat Steve had vacated.

“As much as I want you to wake up, you should probably save it for when he gets back,” she said to you. “But don’t even think about dying on us.”

XxX

“I want you to wake up.” The feminine voice broke through the wash of the waves, and seabird song. You groaned and opened one eye, thinking the mermaid had returned. There was no one around. You sat up, and took in your surroundings again. The island was beautiful, from what you could see. And your subconscious was ensuring all your needs were met. A small, but sheer rock face a short way down the beach was home to a waterfall that you could only assume was fresh water. There were coconut trees at the edge of the beach, and a few short bushes that looked to be pineapples. You could be quite happy here, you thought. “Baby, you’ve got to come back to me.” The same male voice from before echoed in your head. It was so loud this time that it made you dizzy, and you stumbled toward the shade. You might not get sunburn, but your brain felt scrambled from the heat. XxX

“Baby, you’ve got to come back to me,” Steve kissed your knuckles. “It’s been three days. Doctor Cho says all your scans have returned to normal. You’re okay. Wake up. Please.”

XxX

“Please.” It was a single word, but it held more passion and pain than you could ever remember hearing. You looked around the beach. The voices came in waves every so often, but usually quiet, just breaking through the gentle but persistent noise of the ocean waves lapping against the shore. If only you knew where the voices were coming from.

Since you’d washed up on the island, you’d searched the entire thing, looking for the ghost voices. They all seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place them. You flopped down against the soft branches you’d turned into a makeshift mattress and allowed your mind to wander, trying to place the male voice you kept hearing as you watched the clouds drift across the sky.

XxX

“Any change?” Tony leaned into the infirmary, holding a bag of dried fruit. Steve looked haggard. Tony couldn’t guess when the man had last slept, but he looked like he might not have shaved in at least a week. Natasha had stopped nagging Steve about hygiene when he’d told her to fuck off earlier in the week.

“Nothing.” Steve’s voice was devoid of emotion.

According to Dr. Cho, there was nothing wrong with you, but the vegetative state was persistent. Steve was grieving you, despite your textbook vital signs. He hung his head in his hands and his shoulders started to shake.

“Whoa there, Steve, Dr. Cho says she’s going to be fine. Let her brain rest. There must be more to it than the cradle can see. Tony rushed forward, not even thinking, and rubbed his hand on Steve’s back. Steve leaned into his friend and wept.

“What if this is it? What if this is all I get? Just a few months with her and now she’s gone?” Steve asked, his voice overwrought with sorrow. Tony patted Steve’s back awkwardly.

“This isn’t it,” Tony promised. “You need some rest, and a shower. And maybe a shave, although I have to say the beard is fetching. I’ll sit with her. If you come back in less than six hours, I’ll smother her myself.”

Steve glared at Tony, but pushed to his feet. “You wouldn’t dare. I’m only going because I owe Nat an apology.”

XxX

The male voice was different, and his chatter was non-stop. You wanted to find him and tell him to stick a cork in it, but as usual, there was no one on the island but you. Yet another fruitless search for the voices that haunted your island made you realize how lonely you were. Had you always been here? How had you gotten here? You remembered floating in the ocean, but where had you been before that? You sat down and struggled to remember. As you stared out at the water, you idly doodled in the sand with a small twig. The nattering man finally stopped speaking and you sighed in relief. You pushed yourself back on your feet and rose, looking down at the series of circles with the star in the centre. It had to mean something, it was the only thing you ever seemed to draw when you were thinking about things.

XxX

“Tony says the beard looks good. I never would have worn a beard before, but I kind of like it. It’s not fancy like his either. It’s just a beard.” Steve smoothed down the hair on his face and took a sip from his coffee. He picked up your hand and placed it against the hairs on his cheek, smoothing your hand down the scruff. Your fingers reflexively curled into the hair and you let out a soft sigh.

Steve leaned forward, “Come back to me. Please.”

XxX

“Please.” The anguish in the voice tore through your heart and you sat up. Had it never been nighttime since you got here?

“Please.” Your ears started to ring and your vision blurred. The ocean was placid, calm. It had never been so calm.

“Please, baby.” Memories rushed through you and you looked around at the island, no longer beautiful and friendly, but instead looking depleted and dangerous.

“Steve?”

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

@rampant-salamander @bolontiku @bkwrm523

#whump of july 2021

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valkyriesryde · 4 years ago

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Release the Hounds {15/15}

Chapter 15: Get Down

Chapter Summary: The search continues for Hades in the mortal realm and on Olympus Thor must face the reality that his council will never be the same. The End.

Word Count: 3,700ish

A/N: its been about three months since I wrote the last chapter and I’ve lost motivation to write, had depressive episodes, moved cities away from my family and spent countless hours writing and rewriting this chapter not wanting it to end. Thank you to everyone who read and will read this, your support will forever hold a dear place in my heart and I appreciate all of the messages I have received from the beginning of this story more than any of you will know. Here is the finale, I hope I did you all justice <3

“Harley, Peter, you two take to the south down the mountain, Rebecca will take to the skies and I’ll go west,” Natasha handed out the instructions for their search as if it were another battle plan. To her and everyone else there it was just that. Time was of the essence and if they left it too long there was a high chance that Hades was dead.

From the amount of blood and gold on the snow in front of them, they didn’t have much time at all, and by how weak Harley was already feeling, he knew it was near.

To the east was a cliff, Rebecca had already peered down and Natasha’s owl had done a closer inspection with no evidence of the queen of the Underworld.

“Steve, you’ll go north into the woods, you’ll be stronger in the trees.” That was her last instruction before they parted ways. If one were to find Hades a flare would be sent into the sky that lit up the sky like the Star of Bethlehem. If they came into trouble, well, they’d have to figure that out when they came to that obstacle.

It’s good to know what these gods were going up against, yes they were searching through a mountain range with a forest climbing its sides. But they were also in the middle of nowhere. There was no sign of human life for miles upon miles and that meant one of two things.

The first thing it meant was that this was a hunting ground at the best of times but unsurvivable for humans majority of the time, this was in the favour of the gods, it was the middle of winter, it was slim to none that they would come across a human while searching the land in this area.

The second thing it meant was that with the lack of humans came an abundance of other things. Animals filled the land, from the woods to the cliff faces. Predators like eagles, foxes and wolves hunted the land. Prey like small birds, rabbits and even goats lived as best they could. It was hard for any mortal animal to really thrive in these woods though. With no humans in this land it meant there were no demigods, no half and half’s to protect the preciousness of mortal life, so the supernatural, the monsters that were too rabid for the city roamed the land freely.

The further Steve stepped into the woods the less connected with the mortal world he felt. Cerberus walked in front of him with his nose to the ground but he hadn’t picked up the scent of Hades yet, there were too many other smells. Smells that Cerberus liked, minotaurs, werewolves, even a griffin but too far away.

Steve was on high alert, every noise, every rustle of leaves and breeze that blew past him caught his attention. He had to take it slow, a hunt, not a fight. Go too quickly and he could miss something, a sign, blood, a mark she could have made, anything. There was evidence of the beasts all around him, paw prints and scratches on tree trunks, leftover hunted prey left to the other animals in the woods but no sign of Hades.

Hades sight was hazed. She couldn’t make out details around her as she reached out across the ground and felt the ground beneath her. Cold stone under her fingertips, sharp rocks up the side of the wall. She was in a cave, deep into it with little light around her, it wasn’t just the injuries that had taken her sight.

There was no portal near her, she was too weak to make her own way to the underworld but she could feel the magic around her. She could feel the supernatural beings’ powers and strength more than the weakness that the mortal world put her through. But it wasn’t enough to help her move out of the cave herself.

In the snow, in the middle of the forest, wolves stalked the trees. They kept watch and growled at any noise or critter that came close. It didn’t take much longer for Cerberus to smell the wolves. A scent that Cerberus was familiar with but not for years.

It was getting cold and dark when they came to the small clearing at the front of the cave. Steve could almost sense the wolves stalking the area around him as they walked out of the tree line to be met with one lone wolf standing at the entrance.

Cerberus immediately bowed to the wolf who’s fur was a crisp white like the snow beneath his paws. It stood side on but as it turned to bow down to both Steve and Cerberus, Steve caught a glimpse of something that made his skin crawl and his heart drop.

Gold. Soaked into his fur mixed with dark red in the matted fur.

“Where is she?!” He choked out, trying to be strong even though his body was crippling with fear. The wolf was big, bigger than any he had seen before. It currently towered over both he and Cerberus, who was still bent down to the ground. It stood, looked at Steve and then turned back into the cave. Cerberus sat patiently in the snow now, he knew this wasn’t his place, he knew this pack, he was a part of this pack, he would do what the leader said.

Steve however, he followed the white wolf into the cave, deeper and deeper until it stopped and stepped aside to show Steve the lost treasure he had been looking for.

And there she was.

And there he stood.

She could feel him, that same smell from the first time they met, fresh rain, pollen in the air, it stood out against the damp, the stone and the stench of death she knew was coming from herself. Maybe she wasn’t so much better than Demeter said. Maybe she deserved this.

It took some time to convince the wolves to let him take Hades. She’d fallen back asleep soon after his arrival, not even acknowledging him, he wasn’t sure she actually knew he was here. The wolves were protective of their fallen angel. But Steve was able to convince them that he was her safety, he told them he would protect her, that he would take her home.

“There must be a doorway here?!” He said into the darkness but only stone walls surrounded him. “How am I meant to get her home?” He come all this way, he’d worked so hard this entire time to help her and the Underworld, and now? All of his work, all of the time he’d spent learning about her world when he could have spent it with her. His priorities were morphed to what he thought was right, putting her on the council. But what was right had nothing to do with her position, nothing to do with anyone else but her, she should have been his priority.

She was too light in his arms as he picked her from the group. Her skin was cold, lacking of any sort of colour. The wolves stepped aside as he carried her out of the cave where Cerberus waited, now standing tall in his true form. Three heads, obsidian black fur and paws as big as Steve’s chest.

“Take us home Cerberus?” He asked and the pet growled in response, kneeling as Steve placed Hades on his back and climbed up afterwards. “As fast as possible Spot.”

Cerberus bound towards the edge of the cliff, closer and closer until he jumped. Steve held Hades tight as they fell further and further until the depths below turned black and rimmed with gold.

Behind them, at the entrance to the cave the wolves ventured further into the woods again, their debt owed to the god who saved their youngest. Behind them, as they went out of sight, a birch tree sprout. Taller than any seen before in the mortal realm, leaves full and green in the middle of winter. A normal looking tree apart from its height to many but to those that knew, to Natasha and Rebecca as they saw it grow from the top of the mountain, to Peter and Harley who saw it tower over everything else, they knew what it meant. A new beginning was here and the Queen will be returned home.

One Week Later

Thor stood overlooking Olympus from his balcony. It was filled with life and freedom, as if the past few months had never happened, as if his sister hadn’t been attacked and left for dead by someone he trusted, as if everyone was safe and things we normal.

“Funny how little they really know isn’t it?” Loki stood by his side, as he always had. The green and teal of his cloak reflecting in the sun overhead and against the snow on the ground. “Bucky has come full force today it seems,” he smiled.

“Its in celebration, she woke up today, she’s doing much better it seems. MJ has been by her side continuously to help the healing. She’ll be back to herself soon enough.”

“Say her name would you Thor. What could go wrong if you say it here, no one is around.” Loki slithered behind Thor, his hands dropped onto his shoulders, “Hades.” He said into his ear. “Our darling sister, our first protector, the selfless one, the keeper of our secrets. Say her name in Olympus dear brother, shout it from the rooftops!” Loki leaned his back against the railing as Thor whispered her name and they felt the wind settle briefly around them.

“Hades is awake,” he said quietly, “Demeter is locked in her home and Hades will sit on the council. Are you happy?”

“I am, though I do wish you had given me the pleasure of tearing that godforsaken mother from earth apart myself but to each their own.” Loki smiled jokingly at Thor who let out a deep laugh back. Brothers, until the end of time.

The air began to still in Olympus as the two stood overlooking it, the people in the streets and the market stood still, the bustling sound softened to a murmur that they could no longer hear.

And when the brothers looked out at the steps of Olympus they saw the reason for the silence. First it was the black petals that floated through the air around her, the blackened path that dragged behind her cloak, turning to a gold pathway as the judges followed her in full adorned armour. Pietro in silver, a hero, Wanda in red, to remember the innocent, and Sam in black, for the monsters, his wings mixed with the colours of the judges and dripping gold for his queen as he walked a step behind the other two. One, two and three, they followed her on the gold plated path. A few steps behind them was the final member of her entourage, his armour held the most colour, blues and reds, pinks and greens and a shield on his back.

The queen walked with purpose, she didn’t look to the sides at the nymphs and olympians, she didn’t take in any of their judgements. Even though they murmured with gossip as they watched the son of Demeter follow his mother’s enemy. They whispered about how Hades had kidnapped Steve, how she had lured him with a flower so beautiful he couldn’t resist, others whispered about how it was Steve that turned his back from Demeter, that he was coerced by the judges to join the Underworld before the debate and they had poisoned his mind. Rumours ran hot in Olympus as the five continued to walk onwards towards the temple.

Inside the temple was chaos. Thor and Loki moved quickly to the throne room where the rest of the Olympian gods were already waiting, having been summoned by Hades herself to meet. Something the brothers weren’t aware of until a nymph of Thor stopped him in the hallway and exclaimed as such.

The letters had appeared on their desks, their counter tops or bedside tables late last night and had been kept under wraps from all after the heat of the last few weeks.

The doors burst open before the council and Hades stepped into the room. The twelve gods sat in their seats and stood as she moved to stand in the centre, the judges stayed back, as did Steve, awaiting their next order.

One bowed to the queen, Ares, he kneeled as soon as she entered. No one knew what this meeting was about, no one knew why they were called and everyone feared the worst, especially with the absence of Demeter. Ares feared Hades’ wrath the most, he would have no part in this, he’d chosen his side and continued to be loyal to both Olympus as well as Hades.

“Good morning all,” she smiled sweetly and bowed her head but none replied.

Then the doors opened and in walked Thor and Loki. They moved to their thrones, side by side the biggest of all and at the forefront of the council, one empty on one side of Thor. Hades knelt, her entourage followed.

“What are you doing out of bed so soon?” Thor questioned as he sat, his voice seeped with disappointed.

“I’m fine brother, no need to worry,” she rolled her eyes lovingly at her brother and stood straight. “I’ve come to present my statement, and return what was taken.”

Steve tried to protest, he had no idea this was what she was doing, he thought she was taking her rightful seat on the council. Sam glared in his direction, daring him to speak.

“You’ve already come home sister,” Loki said and Hades cocked an eyebrow at him. “May I?” He gestured to Thor who simply nodded his head. All of the olympian gods looked on confused, they all assumed the same, that she was here to give back Steve, they had no idea what was really going on. “Transparency is key it seems and we have learnt that the hard way here haven’t we? Hades I believe I speak for everyone here when I say we are pleased to honour your rightful place on the council beside us, this throne was and will always be yours if you wish to take it.”

“What of-?”

“She’s been banned from any council business.” Thor stood before the council as Loki sat back down, he slowly walked down the few steps to Hades. “Demeter’s views do not match that of the council, she no longer has Olympus or the mortals in her best interests, only herself. She’s been locked in her home, awaiting punishment.” He looked past Hades towards Steve with sorrow in his eyes, “we were to meet later today to discuss her punishment, but I’m glad you’re here, we can begin business. Now sit, judges, you may wait outside as is custom.”

Hades followed Thor up the steps and so casually that it never felt out of place she sat, on the council of Olympus.

“God of Spring,” Steve heard as he turned to walk out, “won’t you be sitting to speak for your domain?” Bucky smirked at his friend, inviting him to the seat beside him.

Steve looked to the big three, to the other gods surrounding him, they were all waiting for his answer, waiting for him to sit where his mother once had. And of course, he would never keep them waiting long.

“Are you sure about this?” She asked him at the rivers’ edge. He looked up to the gates as they glistened and moved, the flowers bloomed, the gold sparkled in the sun, the daffodils were scattered far and wide and he looked back to her.

“My task isn’t done yet, if I’m to teach Olympians everything they need to know about the Underworld, I need to know everything myself.” He smiled at her, his Queen.

“You don’t have to do this Steve, I can get MJ to reverse the curse,” she was so unsure, with no one around she was always so much more vulnerable with him.

“I don’t want it to be broken, and even if it was it wouldn’t stop me from coming back any chance I could to see you.” A step closer, a whisper under his breath just for her. “The fates brought me to you-“

“That doesn’t mean you have to stay.”

“Would you be quiet,” he laughed and she shied away. “They are not why I want to stay,” a gently hand on her cheek, pushing a boundary they had unspokenly set for themselves. Never to succumb to the fates, to form their own opinions, to have their own conclusions. “I have to have you in my life.”

“And you in mine,” she gleamed and when he beamed back she thought Bucky had brought the sun down to the Underworld with how warm she felt.

“I have to collect some things from Bucky, but I’ll be back later tonight, I promise.” Steve turned to leave before she could even say goodbye but he stopped in his tracks at her voice.

“Take Cerberus! He’ll protect you where I can’t.” The dog shrinking to the Doberman he was familiar with by his side.

Under the stars of the souls, painted in the skies of the Underworld by artists the God of Spring held the Queen of the Dead. He kissed her in front of the Gates of the Underworld, where their symbols were intertwined for eons before their paths even crossed, before either of them knew of the importance of each other.

A kiss that was a promise, a see you soon, a please be safe. The two gods were never away from each other for long. When the God of Spring returned in the darkness later that night, when everything was sound asleep he walked into the home of Hades to find her still wide awake, sitting and watching over the gates, waiting for his return. He was welcomed with a small smile, a “you were gone too long” and tugs towards bed.

The fates dropped him in the Underworld at her feet. They twisted and pulled at their strings together and bound, no knife or scissors could ever break them apart. All the gods knew, all those who were witnesses were well aware now and none feared they were wrong. The protector, had her own protection.

That is the story of Hades and Persephone. Of love and betrayal. Of chosen family. Of new homes and realising ones worth. I don’t think I’m missing anything, they lived happily ever after and all that good stuff. Why are you still here? They kissed, isn’t that what you wanted?!

I know what it is.

What punishment did the council decide on you ask? What consequence did Demeter face?

It was winter in Olympus, the God of Spring returned to collect his belongings to go to his new home in the Underworld where he would spend each winter for the rest of time. But there was one step he had to make along the way.

In the dead of the night Demeter sat at the gazebo that was once her son’s. She’d torn through the drawings and belongings she’d found there, they sat amongst the cold wood. Her tears had quietened as she began to accept her defeat and fall from power. As she did so the leaves began to move.

She heard footsteps in the snow, crunching under the weight of whoever moved towards her.

“Who goes?! No one is allowed in here show yourself!” She yelled into the darkness with no reply.

Through the splitting wood of the gazebo behind her, flora began to grow. Vines, roses with thistle sharp as knives, asphodel in the corners. And at its centre Demeter saw the fruition of the prophecy she once thought she controlled.

In the darkness of her garden, eyes shone through behind her. A man standing tall, his eyes a crisp blue, anger seething from them. Above him were three more sets of eyes, red, glaring at their prey.

No nymph could have this power, no member of Olympus par from the big three were allowed to step foot within this home anymore. She was to be locked away from all that she held so dear. But there were still pathways, there are always pathways even into a locked room. And he had found it.

Demeter felt her breath shorten as it flowered, the daffodil, through the cracks of her son’s gazebo it flowered bright and tall in the night. And when she turned she saw the moon catch sight of the metal weapon in his hand. No nymph would feel her wrath again, no child would think they were less than loved in her presence ever again, no god would think they had no worth because of the poison that left her tongue. Because she would never be seen again.

The eyes slipped back into the darkness and disappeared as if they were never there. He left the same way he came, through the cracks in the stone that the caves reached. Ironic that the place she feared most was just a doorway away from her home this entire time he thought as he left her fearing for her life.

“The scythe will swing low,” he whispered as it closed behind him. The three headed dog by his side, back in the realm of the dead and moving towards the home on top of the hill as if he’d just popped down to the store. Now he was home.

“When the wind is still and the air is cold, the sun will shine in Hades.

When what belongs is brought home the snow will fall.

It will crunch under the steps of the taken, it will slice through the heart of the fallen.

The harvest will not grow when spring is taken.

But the daffodil will grow through the cracks of the grave

And the scythe will swing low.”

The End

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calitraditionalism · 3 years ago

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Arc Three: Chapter Nine

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Fernstar?”

The little leader blinked hard, trying to get the blur of sleepiness out of her eyes, and looked up at Viceroyclaw.

“We ought to rest a bit,” she murmured, her wide head close to Fernstar’s to keep their conversation private. “It’s been daylight for a while now, and…”

“I know.” Fernstar sighed and looked behind her. Her collective of Fleet cats, from the powerful patrollers to the scrawny scouts, were boldly following after her, but she could see that they were just as exhausted as she was.

As clearly as her tiredness would allow, she announced, “We’ll stop for a few hours. Let’s get as much sleep as we can before we continue. The trail is still fresh.”

There was a collective sigh of relief. Fernstar stopped a few steps away, where a smooth stone allowed her to climb onto it as a perch. She nodded to everyone, and they all barely took more than a step before curling up where they were, eyes shutting at a record pace. Even Fogpetal only did a quick scan of their surroundings before lying down herself. Viceroyclaw jumped onto the stone with Fernstar, lying close enough that their fur brushed. Fernstar didn’t even acknowledge her guard – drowsiness muffled her thoughts, and she swiftly fell asleep.

When she awoke again, she felt much more alert, but she frowned. Something had scratched at the back of her mind in her sleep, just beyond her hearing, and she wasn’t sure what it was.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Boarpaw was walking past her and paused to rear up a little and meet her at eye level. “You had a bad dream or somethin’?”

Fernstar squinted, focusing, then shook her head. “It’s nothing. Where’s Viceroyclaw?”

“She went huntin’ with Glorypelt and Newtbite. Said they’d be back soon.”

“Good.” Fernstar glanced sideways. The rest of the Fleet were still asleep in the midday sun, which she could see was slowly drying the dew and mud. The warmth sank through her fur and eradicated the last of her shivers. She stretched and yawned. “If you’re tired, you can keep sleeping.”

“Oh, no, ma’am, I’m fine,” Boarpaw said quickly, standing tall. “I was keepin’ watch, ‘case someone came up on us.”

Fernstar gave him a patiently amused smile. “We’re the ones ‘coming up’ on someone.”

Boarpaw looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet, voice quieter. “Well, just bein’ sure.”

“Rest a little more, Boarpaw,” Fernstar ordered in about as gentle of a voice as she could. “We’ll be fine.”

Boarpaw shuffled again, opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, then nodded sheepishly and walked away, lying down with his fellow Fleet members. Fernstar restrained a chuckle when she heard him start snoring mere moments later.

The wind picked up a little, parting Fernstar’s fur and sending ripples through the grass in the flatland they were resting in. Fernstar watched the shimmering waves, contemplating whether to sleep again herself or to wait for the hunting patrol to return.

Entirely too soon, her thoughts turned to the current mission, and that disappointed hurt clutched at her heart again. Memories of Redheart as an apprentice directing adults in hunts or solving disputes for her juniors almost made Fernstar’s smile return. When Redheart’s mother had died, she’d gone through a change in activity. Not that she hadn’t been a hard worker before, but suddenly she was foregoing sleep to handle problems and somehow transforming the rowdy Clast cats into a respectable family – or about as respectful as they could get while still getting to wrestle for fun. Fernstar hadn’t waited more than a month or two after her naming ceremony before appointing her as the new deputy, and no one had been surprised. There had, of course, been arguments that Redheart was too young, but anyone who’d known her for even a week knew that she was the best choice. Everyone expected her to become leader one day. So had Fernstar.

So what changed?

Try as she might, Fernstar couldn’t figure it out. Going from being a loyal member of the Clan, working up the ranks to eventual leadership, to recruiting cats to leave the Territory with no end goal stated… there wasn’t a connection that she could think of. Redheart had always been sensible and collected, and she had always made it known that she believed in building a better future for the next generation. Abandoning the safest place in the known world (small as the world was) with expecting queens and apprentices in tow was the complete opposite. It just didn’t make sense.

What also didn’t make sense was the sudden turning of the spies. Mistface, at least, Fernstar could understand. He and Greyleaf were in a very tightly bonded family – Mistface had only been recruited because he was the one cat Greyleaf would trust above anyone else, except perhaps their mother. But the others had no reason to ditch their post and follow Redheart wherever she had gone. Laurelclaw was a very meek, peaceful boy, and Beetlefoot was dedicated to his role as a member of the Fleet. Neither of them seemed like the types to run off.

The really odd one was Darkpelt. Fernstar was very familiar with the spy. She was crafty and practical, and took great pleasure in her work. She had been used by the leaders plenty of times, dropping by to give them reports of troublemakers or ambitious deputies to watch out for. Any cat that hired her to find out information would find their time well spent and the price of prey and herbs easy to hand over. She barely ever demanded payment anyway; she just loved being a secret pair of ears.

This sort of cat did not seem to be the sort to foolishly walk off after a wanted molly. Someone in Clast had recalled overhearing her mention that she ‘had a job to do’, but as far as Fernstar was concerned, her mission was completed. All she needed to do was give her report and then wait for the investigation to be done, potentially followed by a trial (which was now almost certain, as much as Fernstar hated to admit it). Darkpelt had never lingered on spying before. She’d release her information to the leaders and leave it at that until she was called back.

What had Redheart said or done that was so compelling that this particular spy wanted to follow her? Was there something she hadn’t told the others, or the leaders?

“Fernstar.”

Fernstar flinched out of her contemplation. Viceroyclaw had managed to get almost in her face without her noticing, front paws on the stone she rested on, a ground squirrel in her jaws.

“I brought you something,” Viceroyclaw mumbled around the prey.

“Oh-“ Fernstar sat up. “Thank you. Did you catch something for yourself?”

Viceroyclaw nodded at something on the ground. She placed the squirrel at Fernstar’s feet before ducking down and retrieving a much smaller mouse.

Fernstar managed to not snort. “I think this squirrel would be better suited for you.”

Viceroyclaw blinked, confused, before glancing down at the squirrel which was a third of Fernstar’s size and murmuring, “Ohhh…” She replaced the squirrel with the mouse and climbed onto the stone, sitting across from her leader and tucking in quietly.

The two ate for a bit, Fernstar observing the other two hunters waking up their friends with lunch. She waited until she had finished her meal and Viceroyclaw was slowing down on hers before speaking.

“I just can’t understand,” she said. “This whole situation is so bizarre.”

Viceroyclaw hummed and looked up with her eyes, an indication that she was listening as she continued chewing.

“It seems to have come out of nowhere,” Fernstar went on, half to herself. “Redheart isn’t like this. And Darkpelt and her team leaving with her…” She looked at her high deputy. “Do you have any ideas why this is happening?”

Viceroyclaw chomped once, twice, swallowed, and cleared her throat. “No. But I don’t really think it matters, the ‘why’. She and Greyleaf did what they did. They should be punished for it.”

Fernstar’s face must have fallen, because Viceroyclaw hurried to add, “Or at least handled. Whatever you and the others decide to do.”

“Right,” Fernstar muttered. She looked back at the Fleet cats, who were all chatting while they ate. They were all so tightly bonded together – some would argue for them being even closer than any of the regular families’ members. She had no doubt that if one of them were in Redheart’s position, at least a few of these cats would follow them into the night. They were loyal that way.

But as far as Fernstar knew, there was no loyalty to anyone in the runaway group except Mistface to Greyleaf, and Greyleaf to him and Redheart. The apprentice, Littlepaw, was supposedly followed by her pseudo-mentor, so there was a connection there, but they didn’t have anything to do with any part of this. What part of a former seer’s dreams encouraged her to just walk off after an almost-certain-to-be criminal? Wouldn’t StarClan have told her to stay away from Redheart, if they still spoke with her?

Would they find other cats? Would they attempt to recruit evacuees again? Who would go with them anywhere?

A light flickered in Fernstar’s head.

She could think of at least one cat. Perhaps one that they were already on the way to collecting.

“Fogpetal!” she called.

The Fleet deputy raised her head up from the remains of her vole and stood up, excusing herself from the conversation she was in. She trotted up to the rock and silently stood at attention.

“Do you know if the Vultures have moved from their position?” Fernstar asked.

Fogpetal shook her head. “They should still be there. They have kits to raise, from what I heard.”

“Good.” Fernstar was surprised by her own sigh of relief. “Then I want two of these cats to make their way over to their camp and guard Greyleaf’s mother. Her name is Nettlecloud – she’s a grey, elderly molly.”

“Oh.” Fogpetal’s eyes widened in realization. “I see. I can have them collect more guards on the way there, if you’d like.”

“That would be good,” Fernstar said. “Send whoever you think is appropriate. Whoever can at least hold back a healer and his Scattered brother.”

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Fogpetal said, joking.

Fernstar narrowed her eyes. “We may be surprised.”

Fogpetal immediately went serious again, dipped her head in respect, and returned to her party. Fernstar heard her speaking to them and giving orders. In a moment, a grey-brown tom named Thrashercloud and the tortoiseshell Newtbite set off at a loping canter, calling their 'goodbye's and 'good luck's to the others. Fernstar could respect that they didn’t waste any time.

Fogpetal looked back at Fernstar. “Shall we keep moving?”

“Yes.” Fernstar got up. “Before this trail dries up. Everyone ready?”

The Fleet cats immediately followed after their deputy, all confirming that they were good to go. Fernstar didn’t waste any time either – she jumped off of the stone, Viceroyclaw right next to her, and looked at an approaching Boarpaw.

“Can you track a scent?” she asked.

“Oh, of course!” Boarpaw brightened up, looking much more awake. “Me and my mentor, we can do it.”

“Then the two of you will run south, ahead of us, and make sure the trail doesn’t turn anywhere.”

“Right away.” Boarpaw immediately took off at a run, his pale ginger mentor jogging after him with a slightly frazzled smile to Fernstar.

“The rest of you, follow me,” she said to the patrol, and walked forward, ignoring a pang of guilt. “We have hunting to do.”

#warrior cats #steorra #arc three #chapter #chapter nine #fernstar #viceroyclaw #glorypelt #newtbite #fogpetal #boarpaw

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ddarker-dreams · 5 years ago

Text

Paradiso. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM] AU

a/n: au takes place in the early 1900s. tw for descriptions of cults, religious themes, and descriptions of violence.

From the moment you read Elle’s first letter, you were skeptical.

All of this high praise for a hidden community that accepted anyone regardless of their background. She speaks of the people, forgiving and helpful in every conceivable way. That even when she first arrived, not once did she feel like an outsider; everyone welcomed her with open and loving arms. It’s not that you don’t want to believe such a perfect place exists -- you wish it is, for her sake -- but it has to be too good to be true.

If there’s anything you know from firsthand experience, it’s people. Inherently selfish, always in pursuit of their own goals and agenda. There is undoubtedly a catch behind this, you know it in your gut. Elle’s descriptions are too biased, words written blindly behind rose-colored glasses. She isn’t able to see the truth anymore, too far into her own delusions of a flawlessly crafted world.

For a time, you were able to grin and bear it despite the bitter taste it left in your mouth. Responding with forced enthusiasm over her supposed healing, expressing how happy for her you are. It was the letter from the end of her first month, that you felt unparalleled dread overwhelm your entire person.

Words such as “blood” and “ritual” stuck out like a sore thumb, nausea overtaking you and concern soon after. The worst part of it all, is how she posed it as a wonderful thing! She spoke of how it brought healing and an abundance of crops, that it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever witnessed in her life.

No longer could you enable this detrimental behavior. Your dearest friend is in the jaws of a predator, and you’ll do anything to pry her out; even if it requires force. This conviction is what you hold tightly to, fastening yourself against the oncoming horrors.

“Is this it?” you yell over to your guide, loud purr of the motorboat’s engine deafening your ears. He nods his head in affirmation, attention remaining on steering in the right direction. Looking forward towards this utopia, doubts continue to cloud your mind. It didn’t help that the process to get here is beyond tedious, this fisherman the only one willing to take you out to this remote location.

No alarm bells are ringing from your initial glance over, but looks can be deceiving. With each passing moment the secluded island grows closer, looming over you with dubious intent. White sandy beaches line it, the only hint of civilization being an old wooden dock. Thick and lush green trees encompass the island, engulfing it in nature. It’s larger than you initially thought it would be from Elle’s complimentary descriptions.

For privacy, and to keep away suspicious eyes you imagine, the heart of the village is a trek from the beach. Elle justified it by a need to stay hidden, citing how many of the island’s inhabitants are reformed criminals or people who are rejected from society. All you can see in her reasoning are blatant excuses. Nothing good comes from having no accountability from others, it’s a wide open gate for madness and abuse of power.

Splashes of salt water sprinkle against your face, moistening your hair in the process. The peaceful experience does little to soothe you, your mind focused solely on how you’ll go about your investigation undetected. You’re arriving under the pretense of staying permanently, the only possible way to “earn” an invitation. It feels dirty to lie to your good friend, but this is all for the greater good.

The motor sputters down as the fisherman stops next to the dock, a sign of the unknown journey ahead of you finally starting. He begins the process of tying a rope against the dock to steady it, leaving you to sit on the rocking boat. Bobbing up and down with the waves, you close your eyes to fend off a wave of nausea the ocean brings with it.

“[First]!” A cheerful, nostalgic voice calls over to you; breaking you from your stupor. Elle waves eagerly from the shore, running against the sand with a wide grin. Once the rope has been tied successfully, you grab your bags and shakily step onto solid land. She’s wearing a simple white dress, that cuts off below her knees, adorned with sandals and a large straw hat.

Her skin is tanner than when you saw her last, likely from the hours spent in the sun. Light brunette hair secured in her signature high ponytail, and amber eyes shining brightly. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen her so giddy, the sight bittersweet and conflicting you further. Raking over her figure for any signs of foul play, she doesn’t have a single bruise or scratch on her person.

If anything, you’d say she looks to be in perfect health. No longer does her skin cling tightly to her bones, face full and evident that she’s been eating well. It doesn’t deter you for long, as you’re certain there’s still underlying malice in this supposed community.

Arms wrap around your waist in a suffocatingly tight hug, her face settles against your neck. Returning her affections to the best of your ability while holding your luggage, she carries on the embrace for a few more seconds. You can’t help but return her enthusiasm with a laugh of your own, recalling how she’s always been affectionate. Elle has an ability to make you melt within her hands.

“It looks like somebody missed me.” you tease with a short snicker, earning a low hum of affirmation.

“It just feels so good to finally see you again,” she admits with a dreamy sigh, hands moving down the skin of your arm to the handle of your bags. “I’ve missed you more than you could imagine. Here, hand me your bags. I’m sure you’re tired after all that travelling. But it’ll be well worth it, I promise!”

Elle sets off towards the intimidating looking woodland, turning back to you inquisitively when you don't follow right after her. You still don’t see any obvious signs of problems, eyes scouring every crevice of the area before you. With a reluctant sigh, you follow after your good friend into the unknown.

She leads you through thickets of trees and shrubbery, skillfully weaving throughout nature with practiced precision. “I have so much to tell you. I don’t want to overwhelm you right away though, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

“Give me just a general overview of how things work around here,” you respond while ducking under an imposing branch. “Is it all this… uninhabited?”

Waving off your poorly hidden concern, she shakes her head. “Not in the slightest. This is just to keep out anyone who’d do us harm. We’re getting closer to the central area, that’s where you’ll be staying with me. Don’t worry about chores or anything the first few days, I want you to focus on getting used to life here! It can take some adjusting.”

So inundated by the information you’re currently taking in, you fail to notice a vine rising ever so slightly from the ground. Your foot snags against it, sending you tumbling onto the ground and warm pain radiating from your knees from the impact. Elle whips her head back to you at the sound, immediately coming to your side with potent concern.

“A-are you okay? I forgot to mention how many things there are to trip on around here, I can’t even begin to recall how many times I’ve fallen…” she trails off, soothingly rubbing a hand against your shoulder while you catch your breath. You look down at your knees, the source of the stinging pain, to see they’re scraped up. Great, just great.

Letting out a shaky sigh, you grimace through the ebbing ache while standing up. “It’s just a few scratches, nothing serious. I think I’ll live.”

She inspects the wound further despite your insistence of being alright, you finding the circumstances of tripping like a klutz to be mildly embarrassing. The insignificant injury means little to you, you’ve experienced far worse in the past. It’s only an added nuisance since living here will require a lot of movement. That, and you’ve always wanted Elle to view you in a cool, “knows what she’s doing” type of way.

“Still, it’d be best if you got it looked at and disinfected to be on the safe side. We have a healer here who will help you out, no questions asked.”

This catches your attention. The word “healer” being used instead of a doctor or nurse is suspicious to say the least, but it will be a good opportunity to see firsthand what the practices are around here. Although you’re wary of accepting any medicine from these people, there’s no harm in letting this guy look at it.

“Alright, as long as it’s not too much trouble. It really is just a small scratch after all.” you respond nonchalantly while dusting dirt off your shorts. Ignoring the slight sting that reemerges with every step, Elle leads you in a slightly different direction than before.

Even with your reservations, there’s no denying how beautiful the nature surrounding you is. Wild life scurries about at every corner, trees tall and hanging over to protect from the harsh rays of sunlight. Various plant life of almost every color dot along the ground, flowers you’ve never seen before in full bloom.

After a few more minutes of walking, a small and wooden college appears before you. The first signs of this area actually being occupied, you note. There’s a large garden of herbs surrounding it, the structure impressively built with a few signs of weathering on the roof. Elle waves you over, knocking on the door.

“Giorno! Giorno, are you there?” she beckons with insistence, knocking increasing in volume from the lack of an immediate response. Before she can call out once more, the door opens to reveal a young man who looks to be around your age.

You feel an unexplainable draw to him, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. His skin is very fair, without a single imperfection or blemish present. Golden hair as fine as silk, placed into a unique style consisting of three large curls for bangs and a braid. His eyes are piercing yet not unfriendly, color reminiscent to that of luminous emeralds. There’s no denying his beauty.

“You must be [First],” he greets with a welcoming smile, attention solely set upon you. “Your friend has spoken highly of you.”

Your cheeks flush at this, Elle looking similarly flustered. She speaks up for you, much to your internal relief. “[First] hurt her knees a bit on the trek here. Would you mind taking a look at it, if you’re not too busy?”

Giorno glances down at the aforementioned injury, placing a hand to his chin and narrowing his eyes in inspection. “I would treat it now, but I was about to deliver this medicine Fugo requested earlier.”

“It’s fine, really, Ellie,” you reassure her with her favorite nickname, throwing your hands up in mock defense. “I’d hate to impose on my first day here, this seems important.”

“Would you make the delivery for me, Elle? That way I can treat [First] right away.” Giorno proposes, lifting his hand up to reveal a small bag that must contain whatever this Fugo person needs. You snap your attention over to your friend who is thoughtfully considering Giorno’s request. Hoping she can get the hint from your tense body language that you’d rather not be left with a stranger from a weird reclusive village, you all but deflate as she gladly nods her head.

She’s always been too nice for her own good. And yours.

“Sure thing, anything to be of help! I’ll run this straight over to Fugo and be back in a jiffy.” Elle grabs the bag from Giorno’s hand, walking off without further thought. She gives you a wink and a wave, before scurrying off into the direction from before. You swallow thickly in her absence, feeling awkward as silence settles in over you and Giorno.

He steps aside from the door frame, waving you in with a single, graceful motion. You take the wordless invitation in stride, walking in and warily eyeing your surroundings. This area must double as Giorno’s living space and workplace, carefully arranged wooden furniture giving a sense of domesticity. Shelves line the walls, covered to the brim in a variety of small glass bottles full of things ranging from liquids to powders. It brings with it a nice, earthy scent.

An assortment of flora make up for most of the decoration within, different leafy plants and flowers sitting atop every counter. Nothing incriminating so far, but you didn’t think Giorno would display anything potentially off putting that blatantly. It still isn’t enough to lull your thumping heartbeat, wishing that Elle hadn’t left your side.

“Please, take a seat here.” Giorno nods to an empty chair in the furthest side of the room. You follow through with his request, grateful for the chance to rest your exhausted body. Hand hovering as he examines the bottles in front of him, he eventually gets the contents within. Mixing it together in a bowl with some other unidentified greenery, he walks over to you.

“So… should I be anticipating an amputation in the near future?” you attempt to joke to ease the stifling air, earning a small quirk of the lips. He looks nice when he’s smiling, you note.

“No, nothing like that,” Giorno calmly reassures, kneeling down and inspecting your knees closer. “May I?”

You can appreciate how polite he is, nodding to offer permission for him to touch you. Giorno wastes no time, skillfully running the unknown combination against your scraped skin. Inhaling sharply in anticipation, you’re for a loop by the immediate dulling of pain. At the very least, you were expecting a sting from the initial application of this homemade remedy.

Giorno reaches for a gauze from his pocket, wrapping it around the wounded area with perfect efficiency. The entire process was faster than any you’ve experienced, not that you’ve ever been able to afford a nice doctor. Maybe this Giorno character isn’t so bad after all? He has a soothing presence, being well mannered and not speaking more than necessary.

Your cheeks redden once more, the subsiding of the pain allowing you to realize how close he is to you. Giorno gives your skin a final glance over, but doesn’t stand back up immediately. Clearing your throat, you attempt to initiate a conversation.

“So… Giorno, was it? Have you lived here your entire life?” you question, hoping it seems natural and without a hidden agenda. He doesn’t appear to interpret it in a negative light, going into deep thought at your prompting.

“In a way, yes,” he concludes aloud, standing from his kneeling position and cleaning off his hands. “It’s somewhat difficult to explain.”

At this, you decide to stop yourself from prying further. Having quite the past yourself, you can sympathize with not wanting to put it all on display. Still, there are further questions that refuse to leave your mind. Giorno speaks up before you get the opportunity to ask him anything else.

“You’ll need to reapply this remedy once a day until it shows further signs of healing. I’d give you it to do yourself, but it's less effective the longer it's been exposed to air. It’ll work best if being applied after I make it fresh.”

You have mixed feelings, lips pursing at the extra steps your little tumble gave you. Nodding your head in agreement, you carefully test the waters by extending your leg forward. “Thank you, Giorno. Elle really wasn’t exaggerating when she said everyone here is beyond helpful.”

“You’re one of us now,” Giorno places the bottles he took down earlier back to their original position, then turns his head to you. “I’ll take care of anything you need. And remember to stop by tomorrow.”

A nagging feeling pinches at your side, one comparable to guilt. It doesn’t make logical sense why you’d feel bad for deceiving Giorno, who you have just met. Due to his unabashed kindness and trustworthy visage, you find yourself feeling bad for your dishonesty. Looking away from his watchful gaze, you relent.

“Y-yeah, I will.”

---

When you start to doubt yourself, it’s never a good sign.

Whether it’s because of the pride of admitting that you were wrong, or the shame for suspecting Elle’s testimony in the first place. For months you’ve stayed here, living out the simple yet satisfying life you once scrutinized. Nothing of questionable intent has caught your attention. What originally was meant to be a short visit became extended, each day carrying out with welcome familiarity.

Life has been good. Better than it was before, in some regards. No longer do you have to worry about where your next meal will come from, what you’ll do if you’re unable to make rent by the end of the month. You still pull your weight, of course, but expectations that society bestowed upon you before are now nonexistent.

“I think I forgot my bag at the beach. Dammit…” you trail off with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. Elle laughs at your misfortune, looking out the window of your shared cabin to see that the sun is long set.

“I’d say to leave it until morning, but who knows if the tides will come wash it away. Want me to walk with you to get it?” she offers with a smile, already standing up to come help. You shake your head, not wanting to trouble her. She’s never been a night person, always one to wake up bright and early.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back.”

Even when the path is only lit by moonlight, you’re able to maneuver through the area with ease. You often would find yourself spending time on this section of the shore, joined either by Elle or Giorno. Elle isn’t capable of sitting still for long, normally bringing you a snack before running off to find something new to do. Giorno’s a different story. He’ll sit next to you for hours at a time. The two of you having conversations ranging from light topics about plants, to deep philosophical musings over human nature.

The thought puts an extra spring in your step, beige bag thrown against the sand now being picked up. While walking back to your shared residence, you’re thrown off by a shrieking noise coming from your left.

It’s eerie, unquestionably a human scream. A variety of thoughts flood your mind, but you know you’ll need to investigate it. Before you can call out to see if anyone needs help, you overhear two male voices talking with one another.

“--Need to do something about this traitor now.”

“Gag him.”

Narrowing your eyes, you source the noise to one of the fishing cabins on the outskirts. Only a single light shines within, dull and flickering; yet undeniable. No one is out this late under normal conditions, much less a group of people. Holding your breath, you sneak alongside the building to get a better spot to listen.

A bag rustles within, a voice you recognize as Abbachio’s picking up with tangible displeasure. “Bucciarati, get a look at this. He didn’t just steal supplies, he wrote down firsthand accounts too.”

“We’ll burn them later,” Bucciarati replies without hesitation. “For now, we need to learn if he was alone or working with others.”

Abbacchio sighs at the extra workload, floorboards creaking as he walks along them. You hear a distinct noise of flesh being hit repeatedly, a body thumping across the floor with muffled screams. “Who do you think you are, making us do all this? What a pain…”

More kicks. It feels like there’s a vice grip constricting your chest, breathing growing more strained. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, urging you to flee the scene and seek safety elsewhere. The more logical side of you prevents this, feeling a need to come up with a solid plan first.

With all the sticks and rocks littered across the ground, it’s possible they might be alerted if you make any sudden movements. Creeping alongside the house slowly towards the back, you swallow thickly as your heart pounds violently. Never have you felt so warm, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of your face.

Cautiously, you’re able to put some distance between yourself and the incriminating scene. It isn’t enough to lull you into a false sense of security, all your senses dialed to the max. You didn’t realize how harshly you’ve been gripping your bag, knuckles white and feeling numb.

Questions flood your mind that you doubt you’ll ever find the answers to. What was it that this person did to earn such a cruel fate? Abbachio and Bucciarati are revered here, Bucciarati even more so. They spoke of firsthand accounts being written down... he must’ve seen something he shouldn’t have.

It’s too dangerous here. You need to get back to Elle, and you need to go the hell out of here. Creeping along in the night, you feel like something or someone is watching you. Looking around sporadically for any signs of this, you frown at the lack of confirmation.

‘Is it just my imagination...?’

Your mental state is fragile now, having witnessed a gruesome scene unfolding. Shaking your head, you silently chastise yourself. There’s no time for this jittery, you need to get a hold of yourself to make it out of this alive. Lightly smacking your face in hopes it’ll bring you back to reality, you think of more hurdles that’ll need to be overcome.

A daring idea pops into your mind. Telling Elle now what you just saw would be a recipe for disaster, she’ll be an anxious mess incapable of the resolve to escape. That leaves incapacitating her in some way, as much as it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. It’s all for the greater good, you remind yourself. Once you’re in safety you’ll explain all the details to her.

She’s never been able to handle alcohol well.

It might not be enough to keep her asleep. That’s when you realize Giorno will likely have some kind of medicine that makes you tired. The thought of him, and never seeing him again, twists your heart in a strange manner. Perhaps you can say your goodbyes to him, or even ask him to come with you.

Similar to the way you first met him, you knock on the door to his home.

‘Please be awake, please be awake...’

Great relief washes over you as he opens the door, eyes widening at the sight of you this late at night. Before he gets the opportunity to question you about it, you walk inside; closing the door and looking around for signs of anyone else. It’s only him, you realize.

“[First]? Are you alright? You look terribly pale.” His concern is palpable, likely thinking that you’re injured in some way.

“I-I’m fine. Giorno, do you have any medicine to help with sleeping by chance? Or anything similar?” you inquire frantically, to which he slowly nods his head; still trying to gauge the situation. Letting out a sigh of immense relief, you run your hands through your hair.

He hands you a bottle full of unrecognizable herbs, not loosening his grip when you go to take it from him. Blinking in confusion at this, you realize he must have a few questions of his own over your disheveled appearance. It’d be rude not to offer some form of explanation, no matter how messy it may be.

“What is this really about? Please remember that you can always tell me anything.” he pries further, voice unwavering and eyes hopeful. His sympathy touches your heart. Licking your lips, you manage to rush out an explanation.

“Listen, Giorno. It isn’t safe here. I-I saw something, something bad. I can’t stay here, we can’t stay here anymore. I think... they were torturing someone. Someone who saw something they shouldn’t have. I don’t even want to know,” you rush out, finally managing to grasp the bottle from his hands. “Please, for your own good, consider leaving.”

At this influx of information he doesn’t seem shaken, only more curious. “I think you should sit down. You’re clearly not thinking straight. If you’ve been having trouble sleeping, that could--”

“No! It’s not that,” you cut off in frustration, furrowing your eyebrows and clenching your fists. “You’re not listening to me. Giorno, I know what I saw. I-I need to go. Now.”

Not waiting for his response, you rush towards the door. Giorno grabs your wrist from behind, your heart sinking in the process. His grasp isn’t as tight as it could be, more for show than anything. He can feel your brisk pulse with his fingers, head lowering.

“You’ll regret it. Don’t.”

The words are whispered so lowly, you wonder if you even heard them in the first place. With a lackluster tug, you break free without further dilemma. His chin dips to his chest, letdown evident. It pulls at your heartstrings, still not being enough to deter you further.

Holding your hands to your chest, you keep an eye on him as you back up towards the door. “I’m sorry.”

When you feel the handle underneath your hand, no time is wasted rushing back to Elle. Giorno doesn’t stop you as you leave, and you don’t want to look back to see him now.

It doesn’t make any sense why he’d try to stop you, why he didn’t even flinch at the mention of a person being tortured. A cloud of dread hangs over your head, combination of negative emotions stirring within. His eyes, so melancholic and hurt--

No, it does nothing to think about it. All that matters is escape.

Returning to your house, your shaky hands miraculously manage to pour a touch of herbal concoction into Elle’s drink. You’re grateful that she’s in bed, too preoccupied to see what it is you’re doing. Wiping the sweat from your brows and straightening out your posture, you enter her room with a facade of calm.

“I wanted to celebrate the three month mark of my stay.” you explain while opening the door with your back, then handing her a glass. She looks up from her book, grabbing it without another thought. The liquid within your cup rattles from your jittery hands.

“Kinda outta nowhere, but it is a good cause to celebrate!” Elle lifts her glass into the air in a mock toast, which you mimic with less enthusiasm. You watch her throat move as she gulps down the liquid, wiping at her mouth. To avoid suspicion, you do the same, but taking in less.

She stretches in a way that reminds you of a cat, making a loud noise and going to stand by your side sluggishly. With the scent of alcohol on her breath, she lazily brings you into a hug. Is the concoction working this fast? You weren’t able to ask Giorno what to expect, too rushed.

“I felt so lonely without you.” she begins to slur her words, eyelids growing heavier and leaning her weight against you. Your muscles go taut at the sudden declaration, steadying her against your shoulders as she begins to sway. Whatever that stuff is, it’s fast acting. Hopefully you didn’t pour too much.

Her cheeks have a rosy tint, eyes growing further from this reality. She refuses to let go of you, wanting to be by your side.

“So... so lonely... mn... don’t leave me alone again... okay?”

Elle sniffles, burying her face in your neck. “Promise?”

You press your lips against her forehead gently, her eyes fluttering shut in the process. Tightening your grip around her, you nod your head; though you doubt she’s coherent enough to understand the action.

“I promise. Everything will be okay soon.”

A few more moments pass, and she’s entirely slack against you.

Testing the waters, you call her name calmly. No response. A nudge. Still nothing. Gentle breaths fan out against your flushed skin, Elle lulled into the depths of unassuming slumber. If it weren’t for the dire situation, you’d admire how her eyelashes look so pretty against her skin, how here brunette hair frames her face when it’s let down--

Shaking your head at the intrusive thoughts, you grunt while picking her up into your arms. There are some rowboats used for fishing alongside the coast, and that’s where you’ll make the final step of your escape. It isn’t the easiest task to haul her along, despite not being too heavy.

It doesn’t matter. You’re close, so palpably close. You can hear the seagulls cawing in the air, the sound of the ocean crashing against the sand. Just a few more minutes, and then you’ll be free of this nightmare. Keeping her secured against your chest, you trudge along some tricky vines.

‘Was this area always like this? It’s feels more like a jungle than a forest.’

Kicking yourself loose, your frustration grows as the vines seemingly begin to wrap around your ankles. Eyes widening at the unbelievable sight, you frantically begin to struggle against the restraints. It wouldn’t be too difficult, if not for the fact you were carrying a person in your arms.

Your body feels weighed down from exhaustion, but you push down any complaints. Cursing underneath your breath, the vines finally are warded off by another tug. Beyond a few more trees, you’re welcomed by the inviting sight of the moonlit ocean. Its beauty takes your breath away.

The ground underneath your feet now feels soft, dirt replaced by sand. It makes it more tedious to walk. Your ticket to freedom is but a couple feet away, the rowboats bobbing up and down in time with the waves. Not the most ideal escape, yet it’ll still work.

‘Please, just give me the strength to make it to land.’

Finally at the boat, you feel your shoulders and body growing weaker by the second. Your movement has grown considerably more sluggish since arriving at the beach, the sinking of the sand underneath you all but sapping the remainders of your strength.

With utmost delicateness, you gingerly lay Elle down inside of the boat. Now all that’s left is untying it from the dock. The rope isn’t in too complicated a knot, a small amount of luck. Hurriedly working at it, you notice the texture of it changing before your very eyes.

It grows scaly instead of rough, color morphing into a dark green; beady eyes now peering at you. Jumping back in surprise, a snake in place of the rope hisses at you, tongue flickering out of its mouth. It slithers against your arm, causing you to yelp and tumble backwards.

‘This place is fucking cursed!’

“Over here! We found them!”

Looking back to the trees where you came from, you see a few shrouded figures emerging. It’s unfair, safety just tauntingly within your reach. There’s too many than you could hope to fend off, even if you were at your full strength. The snake coils around your forearm, stopping just short of biting you.

‘Is there anyway out of this...?’

Elle’s peaceful face is blissfully ignorant to the chaotic events unfolding around her, and you can’t stop the tears that sting the corners of your eyes. Failing her hurt more than any physical pain this world could throw at you. Will this be the last time you’ll see her?

A hand presses against your shoulder.

“This isn’t how I wanted it to be.”

Of course.

That lamenting voice belongs to no one other than Giorno. He must’ve betrayed your trust by seeking you out and alerting the others. So this is what betrayal feels like. You wouldn’t have known until now, having always been too skittish to get close to others. It was Elle who broke your tough shell, inviting herself into your life like a ray of sunshine.

‘God protect her in my stead.’

Adamantly refusing to give him the time of day, you swat away at the hand he extends towards you, stupid as it is.

Giorno sighs in a mix of disappointment and minor frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose at your petty actions.

“She had nothing to do with this,” you struggle to get the words out, throat tightening with the threat of crying. “Do whatever you want with me... just don’t hurt her.”

Giorno walks in front of you, kneeling without any signs of fear towards the snake who remains still against your arm. Placing his hands on it, it returns to its original form of a rope, falling off of you.

He looks back at your drained, hunched over form. You must look pathetic, mustering up your best attempt at a glare.

“Please don’t make this difficult. Come back with me willingly and she won’t be touched, you have my word.”

There’s no reason to trust him, his request leading you to grit your teeth. For her sake, you’ll cease any signs of resistance. No other options present themselves to you, prayers remaining unanswered. Reality is cruel, twisting you at its own discretion.

Resigning yourself to this fate, you get up and following after him without a word. Abbacchio and a few other men look at you, Giorno placing a hand up to stop them from approaching. Does that mean he’s their leader?

You recognize the path Giorno’s taken on, having gone to his home too many times to count. Tree branches move out of his way, the sight reminding you of a fairy tale. It still remains one of the least shocking events you’ve seen tonight, you humorlessly think to yourself.

Biting your tongue has never been your forte, awe and dread too staggering to push back any longer. “What is all this? W-what are you? That snake... and these trees, was that you?”

Giorno waits before entertaining you with a response, voice low and devoid of emotion as if he was speaking about the weather. “It’s my doing, yes.”

“Is anyone here human?” you ask without further thought, before shutting your mouth. He remains quiet for a painful moment, giving you a response that makes you lightheaded.

“Everyone aside from me.”

Not a single word in the dictionary could form a decent response to a confession like that. Elle had mentioned to you a divine being that blesses this island, watching over it and offering abundant blessings to those who were deemed worthy of it. This is how their harvests were so abundant, she explained, but you disregarded it as a hoax at first.

There’s no denying it any longer. How could you have been so foolish, to get yourself into this situation? The same tenacity that you arrived here with would’ve protected you, had you only continued to listen to it.

Giorno comes to an abrupt stop, turning on his heel to get a good look at you. Not wanting to cause more trouble in the face of the supernatural, you stay firmly planted. He saunters towards you, leaves crunching underneath his feet. Raising a hand to your face, his thumb rubs small circles against your cheek.

He’s close to you, too close for comfort. The skin of his hands are icy cold, eyes softening with unidentifiable flurries of emotion. Tenderness is unwelcome from him, yet you’re far too entranced to pull away.

Giorno’s mystical eyes are all you can look at.

“Under normal conditions, you’d be punished harshly,” Giorno presses his forehead against yours, considering you. “Yet I can’t bring myself to do it. I had hoped you’d turn around of your own will.”

Lips trembling and jaw agape, your tongue is incapable of forming words, mouth painfully dry. Whoever -- or whatever -- that’s in front of you has whisked away all forms of rational thought, leaving you a shivering mess. You’re at his mercy, if he has any to offer.

“I only want to be honest with you, now that there’s no reason to hide it any longer. From the moment you first stepped on my island, I finally knew what I wanted, for the first time in centuries.”

“I wanted to be your god. But now, I feel that’s far too impersonal to sate me,” he pauses his movements, eyes shut in deep thought. “What I want... is something far more. Will you give me that, [First]?”

He poses the question as if it’s a choice for you to make. Patiently, he awaits your answer, already knowing what it’ll be by the gratification in his smile. Giorno’s serene, the battle already having been won.

“I will.”

#giorno #Giorno Giovanna #giovanna giorno #yandere giorno #giorno x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #Jojo Part 5 #JJBA #jjba part 5 #jjba x reader #god au #my stuff #commissions #yandere giorno giovanna x reader #yandere giorno x reader

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dwaekiki · 4 years ago

Text

Camping trip

Caregiver : Hyunjin

Little : Seungmin

The members were all excited today. They had a weekend to relax and they had chosen to go camping! Everyone was running everywhere in the dorm, looking for the last stuff needed for the trip. Making sure they didn't forget anything. Seungmin had woken up already into his little head space as he was so excited for their trip. He hadn't been able to rest and slip for a long time now since they were always practicing all day long. He was happy he could take the weekend to fully relax and be little. When the group had finally packed all their stuff, they were ready to leave for a well deserved break. Hopping into the car, they all buckled their seat belts and the vehicul started.

The ride to go there was kind of long, almost two hours and for little Seungmin, it was the most boring thing. He had tried to sleep like Hyunjin had told him to, but he was too excited and couldn't keep his eyes close for more than three minutes. Seungmin let out a loud sigh in annoyance and Hyunjin put his hand on his baby's head to calm him down, stroking his hair. To the little's delight, they finally made it to the camp. He happily giggled and started swinging his legs back and forth, waiting for his caregiver to get him out of the car as he had fell deeper into little space. Hyunjin cooed at his baby and took him up in his arms, trying to help the others with all the stuff at the same time. By the time they finished installing the tents, Seungmin had fallen asleep on Hyunjin's shoulder. The day was coming to an end already and tommorow they had a big day planned. They had all agreed on going hiking. There was four tents so they had to sleep in pairs and once everyone had settled into their respective one, Hyunjin watched his little softly breath, already deep into sleep. He smiled and closed his eyes, drifting off pretty quickly.

The morning sun woke up Seungmin the next day. He shuffled into his slipping bag, trying to block the light and possibly be able to sleep a bit more, but it was no use. He looked around and beside him, he saw a sleeping prince. He smiled at the thought and observed his boyfriend's features a little more. He didn't want to wake him up, but he felt himself already starting to get bored. He turned his head again and found his plushie not far away from him. Taking it, he played with it for some time, but the boredum came back quickly so he finally decided to wake his caregiver up. Slowly approaching the latter, Seungmin put a hand on his shoulder and started shaking him slightly.

"Dada"

He whispered.

"Dada, Minnie bowred"

Hyunjin shifted in his sleeping bag, but his eyes remained closed.

"Dada"

Seungmin tried again, louder. A hummed was heard from Hyunjin as he finally opened his eyes, looking at his baby.

"What is it angel?"

He asked soflty.

"I bored"

"Did you try going back to sleep baby? It looks pretty early and you need to be in great form for today"

Hyunjin tried, but only got a whine in response.

"Minnie triwed but can't"

Now almost fully awake, the caregiver lifted himself up into a sitting position.

"Does Minnie want to try sleeping in dada's arms?"

Seungmin immediately nodded and slipped himself into his dada's sleeping bag. They both layed down again, the little pressed onto Hyunjin's chest, the latter holding him tightly. Fortunately, the couple soon drifted back to sleep, but sadly only to be woken up about thirty minutes later. Once everyone was up, the eight boys then started to get ready for the day. They had packed sandwiches and water bottles and Hyunjin didn't forget to bring a first aid kit, just in case. Finally, they were ready to leave and everyone was excited and cheerful. Seungmin more than everyone because of his little state of mind. Jeongin was happy when Minnie was little because he felt like he had a younger brother and really liked to take care of him. Along with Jisung and Felix, the maknae made Seungmin laugh and jump around, making him even more frantic then he already was. Seeing the energetic youngers, Chan decided they could take a longer road than the one they first intended to take. They had originally picked a three miles road, but they changed for a five miles one. They thought it would be alright, as they'd packed enough supply and left the camp early. They would be back by the end of the afternoon, before dinner time.

~time skip

About two hours of hiking had passed before the maknae line, and Minho joining them, started to whine about being hungry. As it was almost noon anyway, the group stopped at a nearby table, which were dispersed everywhere around the trails, and took out the sandwiches. Each member took one and they begun to eat happily. After lunch, they all regained energy and were ready to continu, everyone chasing and teasing baby Minnie. Unfortunately, running around on a ground full of roots and rocks wasn't the best place for Felix' clumsiness as he fell, his knees hitting the ground harshly. Every members ran to him and helped him sit so they could see if he was okay. His knees were bleeding, but it was nothing serious. Although, Hyunjin was happy he had thought of bringing the first aid kit. He took it out of his backpack and opened it up, revealing band-aids, coton balls, sanitizer and lots of other useful supplies. Seugmin, understood Felix had hurt himself, but was still trying to calm down from all the excitement he had just lived. He tried to get the members attention, but they were all by Lix' side, trying to calm him down, but Seungmin needed attention, he wanted someone to take care of him too. Who was better at that then his dada? He then made his way towards Hyunjin and slightly taped his shoulder, getting no evident reaction, as the older was busy dressing Felix' wounds.

"Dada"

The little tried again.

"Dada Minnie wanna pway"

He exclaimed, tapping Hyunjin's shoulder again, but the latter shrugged his hand off.

"I'm busy Seungmin go elsewhere"

Seungmin was disappointed, he wanted his dada to pay him some attention.

"But dada, wanna pway"

Hyunjin became irritated and without looking at his little :

"Seungmin, I said go away! I am busy!"

The members didn't even seem to notice the small argument, as they were drying Felix' tears, or holding his hands, or saying calming words to the Australian. Seungmin was hurt. He didn't feel like his dada cared about him anymore. He slowly backed away from the group, looking around him. Minnie gonna go back to the camp and pway wif plushie. He thought to himself, looking at the track they came from, already starting to make his way in that direction.

A good twenty minutes later, Felix wasn't crying anymore and his knees were gently wrapped in bandages. The group thought it was a better idea to get back to the camp since one of the member was hurt. Starting to walk back, Hyunjin remembered the way he had talked to Seungmin earlier and felt awful. He started to look for him in hope of apologizing but the little was no where in sight. Panic slowly rose inside of him and he stopped, looking around again. It catched the attention of the others and they started questioning Hyunjin on what he was doing.

"Where is Seungmin?"

He faintly asked in a shaky voice. The other six boys looked around, imitating the scared caregiver.

"Where is he?"

He repeated hopeless.

"Where is my baby?"

He questioned again, his voice cracking at the last words as worried tears filled his eyes. Chan approached him and patted his back reassuringly.

"Don't worry, we're going to find him, he's propably not that far"

The others agreed and made groups to go look for the little. The leader stayed with Hyunjin while the rest of the members parted ways. The dancer was still out of it, continuously looking at all the trees surrounding them.

"It's my fault, I didn't take care of him when he needed me. Chan-"

He broke down in tears, the oldest holding him up so he wouldn't fall on the ground.

"It's going to be okay, everybody's looking for him"

Chan reassured, holding Hyunjin in a tight hug. The only way not taken by the rest of the group was the way back to the camping site so once Hyunjin had calmed down a bit, the pair started to walk that way. They had planned that if by 5pm, they still hadn't found Seungmin, they would reunite and ask for professional help, it was currently 1pm. They all hoped it wouldn't get to that. Hopeless, Hyunjin pitifully walked the trail beside a supportive Chan.

~Time skip again

The two hours back to the camp were exhausting for Hyunjin, for Chan too in fact, but the leader didn't let it show as he tried to cheer his member up. Arriving there with no one in sight made Hyunjin want to break into another wave of tears but before he could, a small figure catched his eyes. A little Seungmin was sitting in front of their tent, a plushie in his arms, singing to himself. Chan's eyes widened while a smile grew on Hyunjin's face. He immediately ran towards Seungmin, not caring about his tired legs.

"Minnie!"

He screamed. The little looked up and his eyes shone at the sight in front of him.

"There you are, don't ever do this again baby"

Hyunjin said, holding his baby in a tight hug.

"But Minnie wanted to pway dada"

The caregiver hummed, hugging him closer.

"I know baby, I should've listened to you. Dada is sorry he yelled at Minnie"

"Ish okay dada, wanna pway now?"

Seungmin asked, resting his head on his boyfriend shoulder.

"Sure, anything for you angel"

Seungmin giggled. Chan, behind them, called the others, telling them they had found Seungmin at the camp. Once everyone was reunited, they used the rest of the day to play games with Minnie, not leaving him alone one second.

The end~~

#This is a one shot I wrote for my wattpad book #It's called babies and my username is dwaekiki #Yes I am promoting myself without shame hehe #hope you enjoyed it #:) <3 #stray kids #kim seungmin #hwang hyunjin #little #little space #one shot #stray kids one shot #seungjin

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heroprose · 5 years ago

Text

just offshore;

a/n. forewarning for monsters and sexual themes.

ship. hitoshi shinsou x reader

summary. mermaid au. there’s something lurking under the surface and you know it.

you’ve always been told to stay away from the beach in the area you knew as your home. everyone was, really. there was hardly a sandbank to begin with and if one waded some meters into the sea from the shoreline, they’d take a great plunge into a mysteriously deep and dark region who knows how deep.

there is even a rusted metal sign out front staked out in the dirt, just before the trail into that secluded beach area, that occasionally redirects tourists and town inhabitants alike to the more gentler, nearby beaches. you wonder why the trail was even made to begin with and why it was never blocked off if it’d concluded as a failed project.

not only that, but this beach near your home was a perpetual riptide zone too if you just swam past the lip of the trench-- and you’ve always mused on the fate of being swept out to sea on one of these fast currents, so fast that you wouldn’t even have the time to cry for help before saltwater filled your throat and lungs.

not that crying for help would do you much good, as it is an area not many visited anyway.

it is a frightening scenario, certainly, but you cannot help dip your toes in the quiet waters every once in a while anyway.

in any case, those were only the dangers on paper, because ever since you’ve moved here and squinted out into the horizon from the gravel sandbank, you’re certain you’ve seen other things in the water. things that make you less concerned about the riptides and more skeptical of whatever’s lurking just beneath the surface.

you know humans can’t swim this current, for one thing.

and for another, when dark shadows in the water do appear, there is only ever one of them at a time.

one time in the evening, you gave something of a wave when you thought you saw it break surface some ways’ away-- you’re not sure, it may have been a mirage-- and it simply took a glance and slipped back underneath.

maybe.

it was what you’d suspected had occurred, at least. with the sun shining behind it, you could never tell if what you saw was a fin or a head or just a bobbing piece of junk.

it is low tide the first time you visit the beach in a very long time, and the skies are overcast.

it had rained profusely the night before, harder than you had suspected, given how the soil was loamy and soft underneath your sandals and all the overhanging trees dripped with dew as you walked down the path. it’s slightly sloped downward, so you pace yourself slower to not stumble and scrape your uncovered knees on the grit and gravel on the shore.

and in spite of the overcast weather, it is immensely warm-- you feel it through the thin fabric of your t-shirt and spread across your back and the crown of your head. it’s only going to get worse, you’re certain, later at noon, and if you decide to stay out here long enough the salt will be all you taste in the air too.

spreads of dark algae lay on the shore that’s normally covered meter deep in briny ocean during high tide and you step over them carefully. you are deliberate in not disturbing the wildlife here, doing your best to only leave your shoe prints in the ground and nothing else. you peel your shirt off and hang it over a low branch before turning your attention to the horizon.

you don’t make it a habit to swim with your sandals on but here it was practically a necessity to avoid accidentally stepping in jagged clam shells or sharp rocks.

farther into the water, just before the lip of the plunge, is a rock large and flat enough to support several people. it resembles a cliff or even a diving board, the way it gradually inclines upward to a tip, pointing towards the horizon. you’re never here during low tide but you do sometimes see just the tip poking out during high tide, breaking waves into halves.

of course, you feel inclined to step towards it now. you wade into the sea, sucking in a breath at the icy plunge. you don’t fear swimming this length-- it’s only beyond the rock you hesitate with. the sides are studded with pale barnacles and dark tunicates, and you have to hoist yourself up from the water.

the crashes of the ocean against itself and the rock are nice on the ears and mind. you’ve come today with little purpose-- you had the time, the inclination. but there is of course, the small voice in the back of your head that still keeps your hackles up.

you kneel on the rock’s tip, and it’s wet and cold with waves lapping just underneath and you’re strangely at ease. leaning over, you extend your fingers back into the cold water, that’s now pleasant to the touch.

you are both surprised and not so much when in the distance, just beneath the waves, a dark form appears. it moves across the waves before slowly, as if only being pushed by the currents themselves, moving towards you.

you wait with bated breath, unable to look away towards the shore. it would take you no more than five minutes to take a running start and swim back to land, but you can’t bring yourself to do that.

you’re the closest you’ve ever been to the riptide and to the shadow both. you wipe the saltwater off your bare arms, determined to get a better look. even now, you’re skeptical of what you can see. you want it to break surface, even if it shouldn’t and you end up regretting it immensely-- you need it to break surface.

it’s an unspeakable desire that roots itself in the obscure and you’re kneeling with your back ramrod straight before you know it.

“hey,” you shout, raising a hand to the side of your mouth, in case it is in fact a rogue swimmer that you’ve been observing all this time.

it doesn’t break surface. it also doesn’t help that it hasn’t coming up for air.

you feel a little sick now.

here you are, in nothing but your sparse swimsuit and sandals, sitting on an algae-covered rock, with solid meters between you and the shore.

you do want to see it break surface still, but not at the expense of your life. is it a shark you’re seeing? a huge manta ray? it can’t be-- you see no prominent back fin and it moves too seamlessly, its tail appearing to move up and down--

and it stops. you think it’s stopped moving just at the edge of the trench and you relax your shoulders a little. unsure of whether to call out again, you keep silent. for a beat, nothing happens and you lick your bottom lip, catching residual salt from the ocean when you swam.

for the first time (that you’re certain of), you can finally see it with some semblance of clarity-- its head breaks the surface first, far enough you can see how broad its shoulders are. it doesn’t bother wiping the rivulets of water that drip down its face from its mesmerizing purple hair, and it tilts its head to the side at the sight of you, jutting its chin up.

he looks almost human, if not for the dark silver ear fins on the sides of his head, webbed and translucent purple on the inside skin of the webs.

maybe it’s his ambiguous stare that’s rendering you a bit nervous or the fact he even exists, but you don’t think you could manage to call out again just yet. would it even matter, if he couldn’t understand you?

in any case, it’s too late to turn tail now-- he’s much too close. clearing your throat, you submit to your fate, whatever it may be, and wave.

there is no immediate response. then, he blinks and his gills splay open from the sides of his neck momentarily before he dives back underneath, making you jolt. you hadn’t even noticed the slits until they flared like that. you find yourself placing a hand over your own neck for a beat and glancing back at the shore.

it looks the same as you had left it-- your shirt on a low hanging branch, patches of dark seaweed strewn about the shore. if you were to vanish all of a sudden, you suspect it wouldn’t be long until someone noticed you’d been down here, a known abandoned beach, and put two and two together.

you sniff, longing to go back into the water but knowing you couldn’t-- not when you don’t yet know whether this creature will tear you apart the moment you step away from the rock.

you hardly get to decide though.

when you turn your chin back to the sea, he’s only a meter away, staring up at you with a countenance that simply read indifference.

the water isn’t entirely clear, now you could see so much more transparently the contours of his arm muscles as he lifts a hand up to push his defiant and wet hair back from his forehead this time; and that underneath him, a massive, dark tail keeps him upright, fins swaying against the current.

that is all you can see when you startle with a short-lived cry, pulling yourself up off your knees in a haphazard hastiness that’s doomed to work against you on algae-covered rocks. the squishy tunicates don’t help you either when you stumble off the side of the rock and grapple for something, anything, and end up with fistfuls of air.

you squeeze your eyes shut the moment you hit the water to avoid the familiar sting of salt. you knew you’d fallen just off the rock’s side but when you extended your arms, your fingers only brushed the farthest-reaching barnacles. were you moving further already?

you gasp when you come up for air, going for a doggy paddle as you glance about your surroundings, particularly at the location where the mermaid used to be, in front of the cliff.

but there’s no one around you and for some strange, strange reason, your heart deflates. instead of being relieved that you aren’t about to be drowned, you bite the inside of your cheeks.

oh no. you’ve not only embarrassed yourself in front of a mermaid, but you’ve gone and scared him off too.

you take a deep breath and let yourself sink a little until the waves came up just over your nose. now you could just relax, if he really did leave. hypothetically.

knowing you wouldn’t be pulled into the rip current from this distance, you shut your eyes and--

and something heavy wraps itself around your torso, just below your rib cage, forcing your eyes to snap back open. it’s an arm, riddled with scars of varying depth and thickness.

he never left.

he never left. panic seizes you.

before you have a chance to even open your mouth, the mermaid swiftly swims round the rock at a speed that makes your sopping hair flutter and pushes your body onto the lowest part of the slope with both hands. his claws poke into your skin but you’re in too much of a daze to really care that he’s tearing your swimsuit.

“uh, what--” you start in a baffled garble.

to his coaxing with a webbed hand on a shoulder, you let your back lie flat against the rock wordlessly. he watches from the water as you breathe deeply, your chest raising and dropping like you’d exerted energy yourself. bringing his arms up to rest against the rock, he says nothing as he looks up at you, mouth still largely neutral.

a noise of hesitation leaves you as you try to understand what just happened. you suppose he thought you were drowning. eyebrows tense, you refuse to meet his gaze just yet. the sky is clearing, you notice. in an hour, the clouds will part and it will be nothing but blue for the rest of the day. with that thought, you hold your breath, keeping your chest still.

sure enough, he pokes your thigh and for the first time, makes a noise you’re not to ignore.

“so you’ve returned,” he says plainly-- his voice is absolutely guttural, as if speaking required muscles he scarcely used; but entrancing all the same.

at the sound of him, you jerk to an upright position and really take a good look at him this time. his dark eyes are alight at the sight of you, crinkling slightly but otherwise keeping an indifferent visage.

“what?” you breath out without thinking, and his ear fins flex and stretch to the sound.

“you returned.” when he speaks again this time, you see flashes of sharp teeth.

you blanch a little. “you recognize me?”

he blinks and his tail swishes slow behind him, causing ripples. “humans don’t come here often. you did.”

well, he’s not wrong about the usage of past tense. you did manage to stay away for quite some time now, nearly an entire year even, so you’re surprised he still remembers you, even from ever afar. “yeah,” you admit. “i always looked for you every time i came.”

you’re hyperaware of the hand resting on your thigh now, just above your knee. there’s some pressure and you don’t know whether or not he’s intentionally squeezing, but the feeling is there either way.

“and i... i always wondered if you had the courage to come closer,” he replies. “i suppose you do, don’t you? in spite of some setbacks.”

he must be supremely curious about your legs because this time, his long fingers grab at your thigh, palm now on your inner thigh and thumb on top.

you don’t whether to focus on his face or his movements but for now you settle on his face. his eyelashes are so long, and the way his dark gaze doesn’t leave yours even as he kneads your flesh has your heart thrumming in your throat.

you swallow. “was it always you that i saw? no one else?”

“were you expecting someone else?”

you shake your head vigorously, missing the amused glint in his eyes. “no! no, i was just curious, because, well-- yeah. i just wanted to make sure.” your words topple over each other in awkwardness and he only offers you a small smirk to indicate he understands.

“it was always me,” he answers eventually, withdrawing his hand from your skin.

“what’s your name?” you find yourself whispering. when he pauses, you blurt out your own.

he repeats your name slowly with a nod. “hitoshi,” he tells you. “you can call me hitoshi.”

when he lifts himself on the rock to lay beside you, his back muscles ripple and you force your gaze away. lifting your hand up to scratch the back of your head, you feel for heat on your ears and cheeks.

hitoshi slides up next to you and lies down, elbows back to prop him up.

“you’re huge,” you can’t help but say and you know it sounds weird right off the bat. your gaze travels down: past his gilled neck, past his glistening pectoral muscles, and past his bellybutton to his tail.

as you’d expected, hitoshi’s tail is massive-- longer than his upper body-- and gleams a solid dark purple on the back with silver underbelly scales. he’s mesmerizing and it’s so obvious now that you’re staring. the growth of scales began right at his v-line and grew downward all the way to his tail fins.

even though he managed to pull himself sitting next to you, part of his tail still remained submerged.

“scared?” he asks and it’s a loaded question but you don’t miss a beat when you reply.

“no-- impressed. i guess i’m surprised how someone your size could go undetected up until even now.”

hitoshi is quiet for a moment while nursing your remark, his gaze unwavering when he does respond. “the ocean is a big place.”

if the scales shine even in the gloom, you wonder how they look sparkling under the sunlight of a warm afternoon. they dazzle and you want nothing more than to lean forward and--

“touch me. go on.”

your eyes shoot back up to his face but you don’t ask twice. you draw closer, setting a hand on his hip and sliding down, feeling the region where his skin became spotted with iridescent scales. his entire body is firm, tough; but there is certain delicacy in his scales and the way they glitter.

your thumb rub circles on the softer pale underbelly scales and even though you don’t know whether he can feel your touch, you liked to think he did. his eyes stared down at your simple hand motions until you spoke.

“you’re so pretty, hitoshi,” you exclaim. “legs are nowhere as impressive.”

“hmm,” he says, although it was hard to tell if it was indicative of agreement or denial. “i don’t know. they have their perks. come here.”

you scoot back to him.

“when i was young,” he says, “i always wanted legs. even though we had to hide every time humans came, i wished i was human sometimes. foolish, isn’t it?”

it felt a bit insensitive to admit that when you were young, you lowkey wanted to be a mermaid. so instead you raised your hand and rested it on hitoshi’s chest; his skin is cooler than expected but not unpleasantly so. as you slid it down his abdomen, he gave no verbal reaction but you hear his tail slap the water loudly.

“i don’t know,” you say. “but i like you like this.”

there’s a sharp inhalation of air this time when you dip your head and kiss him on the skin where his heart would be. hitoshi’s hand comes up from supporting his body to holding your wrist, and he tugs you onto him.

you hook a leg over to the other side and shift until you’re properly sitting on his abdomen, feet pressed against the sides of the widest part of his tail. his dark eyes are soft as they trace your body from the bottom up, moving in tandem with his hands.

there’s bright interest in your thighs because he continues to squeeze them, and you let your eyes flutter shut as he does.

“soft...,” he says under his breath-- or at least, you think he does.

they stop, however, when they reach the edge of your bathing suit. hitoshi’s eyebrows furrow skeptically as he slides fingers underneath the stretchy fabric.

“i will never understand the purpose of this...,” he grumbles low. a claw pokes through the fabric and you clutch at his hand to stop him.

“woah! don’t tear it-- otherwise i’ll have to go home naked.”

“so what?” he mutters in a deadpan, his strain of whining.

you only laugh as he clutches your hips in spite of the fabric, and to soothe him you take his hands in yours and bring them up your chest instead, and he immediately finds purchase in holding what he can in his hands instead.

eagerly, he experimentally rolls your nipples and gets excited when you moan, his tail hitting the surface of the water explosively again.

pulling forward, he brings his mouth to your right nipple, laying his tongue flat against it and swiping. you groan loud and promptly clap a hand over your mouth, but hitoshi only glances up with half-lidded eyes.

“we are alone,” he reminds you. “this place is ours.”

the second time, with your left nipple, you are a little more lax in your noises.

hitoshi’s hands snake across your back and drag you down flush against him and while it’s not the most comfortable place to kiss a lover, your fingers grip his hair as you kiss him.

he’s careful not to hurt you with his teeth, but you’re a little more reckless. hitoshi grunts when you bite his bottom lip and when you finally move apart, he pants a little, lips flushed. you are amused to find that he tastes like the sea.

and you’re surprised when he traces your cheek with his knuckles and suddenly looks at you with strange, dizzying wistfulness in his eyes.

“what?”

“don’t,” hitoshi says, “don’t leave me again for so long.”

“i won’t,” you tell him. you tell him this again and again and again for the rest of the morning, and by the time you part, the skies are a brilliant azure blue.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #NO BETA WE D*E LIKE MEN #some of u all r h*rny and i said. its time to cater to you all too

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frostsinth · 4 years ago

Text

A Line in the Sand - Pt. 2

Intro - Part 1| - MasterList

Another part of this lovely Lizardman for @ivymemnoch‘s commissioned Monster Match. It’s fun to have all these lovely little misunderstandings between them. In this section, Devaraj’s reveals a bit more about his profitable work, and Sera thinks about taking off.

Want your own Monster Match? DM me for prices! Check out my MasterList above for a smattering of other stories and ramblings, and please feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there.

Always looking for ART-spiration, so feel free to drop me an ask or comment with some of your thoughts!

In the end, I’m not sure what woke me. Was it the soft thrum of insects, waking with the first rays of dawn? Or perhaps it was the soft twitter of birds, that grew from a petering distant echo to a soothing trill around me. I remember hearing the soft snorting huff of Nur, sensing the big draft had wandered close to my sleeping spot. Feeling his heavy steps shake the ground slightly before he drifted off again. Whatever the cause, my eyes slowly opened, and a yawn stretched my mouth.

It took me a few belated moments to reconcile my current place with my memories of the previous evening. I blinked groggily a few times, rolling and looking about. As my brain woke more, I considered the soft tented cloth over my head, and the warm bedroll around me. The scent of sand came to my mind, but not to my nose, and I realized I was alone in the makeshift shelter once more.

I rolled again, shifting and shaking the last of the sleep from my eyes. Managing to pull myself up and look around the small clearing. But the reptilian man was nowhere to be seen. Nur stood by the side of the small nest we had made, snuffing and huffing at some dried branches. The saddle and bags were still where I had left them the night before. So wherever he had gone… It couldn’t have been far…

“...Shri?” I called hesitantly, rubbing at my arms as I emerged from the soft warmth of the blankets. There was no answer, and straining my ears, no sound of movement.

Slowly, I crawled out from beneath the tent, peering between the bows and trunks of the trees around us. I could just make out the road in the distance, and sighed as the soft crackle of leaves crunched under my boots. For a moment, I thought this might be a blessing… and opportunity to escape. Certainly he was out of sight and earshot, and he had opportunely left all of his supplies behind. I wandered over to the bags, glancing at Nur almost guiltily as if the horse might betray my malicious thoughts. I shifted from foot to foot, glancing about. But I was confident the strange man was nowhere near.

I kneeled beside the bags, and started to reach out to one. Then I hesitated. A flash of intense yellow eyes, the glint of teeth. Not frightening, but instead… friendly. Welcoming. Kind. I sighed again, shaking my head at the nerve of my conscience and dropping my hand. I also couldn’t quite shake the reminder of his words when I had asked him if he was worried I might steal from him; “You could certainly try. It would be amusing.” … I wondered if perhaps there was a magical charm on the items, or if there was some sort of anti-thief trap… Well, I would just wait, I determined. Until we reached the next town. That way, I wouldn’t have to risk anything nor take his supplies, and could simply slip away into the shadows. Honestly, it was probably for the best I left. I doubted he knew exactly what kind of trouble he had gotten himself into when he had signed me on.

Shaking myself again, I stood and slowly pivoted on one foot. Looking around the small clearing again. Wondering where exactly my new ‘employer’ had gone. I walked over to Nur, who lifted his behemoth head as I approached and wuffed softly, his huge flanks fluttering with the deep breath. He nudged me with his big nose, his nostrils flaring, and being that his head was almost the size of my entire torso, even that gentle touch had me staggering a step to maintain my balance. He snorted again, taking a step towards me and flattening his forelock against my chest. I scratched behind his speckled grey ears absent-mindedly, still looking about.

“Do you know where he went?” I asked the gelding, then had to jerk back to avoid being tossed aside as he lifted his head and shook it with another loud snort. I smiled, wondering if that was a real answer, and patted his velvety nose. “Well, I suppose I should go look for him then?”

Nur looked at me with his big, dark eyes, and no answer seemed forthcoming. I ran my hand up and down his nose, then turned and considered my options. The way back towards the road seemed mostly clear; unless he had gone there and travelled up or down its length a ways, I should be able to see him from where we were camped. So that left the notion that he had headed deeper into the woods. I gave Nur a final pat, then began to pick my way through the woods beyond.

“Shri?” I called softly, the unfamiliar word still heavy on my tongue.

I was careful to keep a scan of the surroundings as I moved, not wanting to accidentally miss him during my search. I doubted that would be very likely; even with the vegetation, the man was far too large and broad to simply hide in plain sight. Though his mottled green scales might blend rather well with the shifting foliage. The chill night before reminded me that fall would be upon us sooner rather than later, though the air was very mild now. I wondered briefly how the cold-blooded lizard man would fare in the snows, and had an amusing image of him hibernating in a log cabin with a roaring fire and a bloated belly. A few yards in, I heard the sound of running water; perhaps a small stream nearby. I decided that it might have also drawn his attention, and turned to make my way towards it.

I caught sight of his shoulders between the trunks of the trees, and almost sighed with relief. I didn’t notice until I had broken through the treeline that it was not the beaten grey of his cloak that caught the fresh morning sunlight, but the green of his bare scales. A delayed heartbeat later, I realized he was completely without clothes again. I nearly fell over as I staggered to a halt, frozen in place by the full sight of him, unobscured by steam or darkness.

The crisp golden rays splashed down his broad shoulders, pricking his mottled green into a smoky emerald color. The scales looked smooth, and rippled as he drew in long, deep breaths. His broad shoulders were squared, and I was again stunned by their width, at least double my own. From this angle I could clearly see the base of his four dark grey horns protruding from his skull before curling forward, and the delicate fan of the leathery skin on the top of his head between the spikes. I followed the curve of his spine down his muscular back, each muscle more pronounced and defined by the shape of his large scales. Tracing down to the point of his spine, just about his bottom, where his tail protruded. It was long and thick, perhaps thicker than my thigh, with a flat top studded with the soft flat spikes on either ridge. I hadn’t gotten nearly so good a look at it before... I wondered how much he could move it. He had it half curled around, forming a semi-circle around his large, muscular legs which were neatly folded in a criss-cross pattern beneath him. I could see his huge arms were relaxed, palms resting open on his knees and the soft yellow/cream color of the scales there bathing in the light.

“Good morning, Sera.” He called lightly without looking over his shoulder. His thick voice had me jumping in surprise. I saw his head tilt, saw the flash of his yellow eye as he considered me out of its corner. “I trust you slept well.”

If he was upset I had been spying on him, he didn’t show it. Nor did he seem particularly concerned that he was completely without clothes; I noticed them folded neatly into a pile beside him. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pulsing of my blood beneath my cheeks.

“Ah… Apologies, shri… I did not mean-”

He made a noise deep in his chest, shaking his great horned head. “I am merely greeting the sun, Sera. There is no need for your words.” The tip of his tail twitched. “Come, join me.”

“Greeting the sun?” I echoed, venturing closer tentatively.

He nodded looking up at me. Even sitting, his head was nearly to my shoulders. “Yes. I believe it is similar to how you humans… what is the term, break fast?”

I started to answer, then suddenly gave a soft ‘eep!’ instead as his hand wrapped around my wrist and yanked, firmly but gently. I tumbled onto his lap, and he wrapped his huge arms around me. I was so startled, my mouth dropped open, and I froze. A deep rumble formed in his chest, vibrating against my cheek, and his thick flat tail came around and dropped heavily across my lap. Further entombing me in his embrace.

“W-what are you doing?” I stammered, so surprised I forgot to try to wriggle free.

His scaled brows were arched slightly when I finally managed to pull my head far enough back to look up at him. I stiffened as I felt the tip of his tail flick where it had fallen on the inside of my thigh. A fresh wave of heat washed through me, and not all of it went to my face. Pressed against him, I was once again surrounded by the scent of sand. His scales were smooth and silky over his firm muscles, and I was given the distinct expression of touching a rock that had been warmed by the sun. Part of me wanted to run my hands over those scales. To feel the grooves and see if they lifted and overlapped or met carefully at the edges.

“I am returning your warmth, Sera. As you so kindly shared yours with me last night.” His words brought me to the present and I jumped a little. He titled his head curiously to the side. “Though you seem quite warm already. Have you been sunbathing as well?”

“N-no,” I finally remembered how to move, and started to wriggle, trying to right myself and scramble out of his arms, “I just woke up and found you gone so-”

“Ah, I forget that humans do not sunbathe. Save for pleasure.”

I found the way his tongue rolled over the word ‘pleasure’ was far too much for me. He unwrapped his arms but otherwise did not try to help or hinder my fight to regain my feet. I clumsily rolled from his lap onto the soft grass in front of him first onto my bottom then settling on my knees, glancing up at him through my lashes. His long scaled lips curled back again, revealing those sharp teeth in what I assumed was a smile. His tongue slipped out, and I swallowed hard again as a tingling rush went through my body. I cleared my throat, and rubbed at the back of my neck.

“How long have you been out here?” I asked, trying to change the subject and looking for something else to stare at besides his broad chest.

He gave a soft hmm, eyelids drooping in a pleased manner. “As soon as the air began to warm this morning. But now that you are up, we can be on our way.”

I fell back on my hands as he stood, his big body moving with a languid grace that I found surprising for his size. I craned my head back to look up at him, and couldn’t help my jaw dropping open a bit. By the Gods he was big… and there was far too much of him to see without his clothes. I couldn’t help skimming my eyes over a particularly private point between his hips (if only ever so briefly on the way up to his face) and was slightly surprised to see… nothing. The same smooth scales of his stomach as far as my quick glance had perceived. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. My mind wandered dangerously and I felt my cheeks flushing darker. He offered me that toothy, lipless grin again and his large clawed hand. I wondered if he knew what I was thinking, and my guilt had me hot at the collar as I sheepishly put my hand in his.

“Why not head back,” He told me as he gently pulled me to my feet, “Start packing camp while I get dressed. We should be able to reach the next town in an hour or two, and can have our meal at their tavern. Yes?”

I nodded, my tongue still too large for my mouth and my head still buzzing with thoughts that really should never be brought to light. I didn’t wait for further instruction, heading back between the boughs. Within a few minutes, I broke through the trees to find Nur nosing the tent canvass curiously. He raised his big head when I approached, and gave a huff that sounded oddly disinterested for a horse. I patted his velvety nose briefly, then went about rolling back up the tent and bedroll and tying it tight. Trying hard to dislodge the image of sun warmed scales from my mind. I was just hoisting up the saddle with both hands when Devaraj returned, his scarf hanging loose about his shoulders but otherwise fully dressed again. I couldn’t help the wandering eye that drifted down the edge of his low collar as he strode over.

“Excellent, thank you, Sera.” He praised me, taking the saddle from me and easily slinging it over Nur’s back. The draft bobbed his head almost eagerly.

I was glad he had returned when he did; I wasn’t sure I would easily be able to reach the big horse’s back. As he secured the straps, I gathered up the bags and bedroll over my shoulders and carried them over.

“Do you have… business in the next town?” I asked, curious despite myself. I realized suddenly that my opportunity to part ways with the reptilian man would be coming sooner than expected... It left me with a strange tingling regret in my chest.

“Not in the town, as such, but in their crypt.” He told me, taking the bundles and slinging them behind the saddle. I moved around to the other side to secure them there.

“Their crypt?” I echoed, surprised.

“Yes, crypt is where-”

“I know what a crypt is,” I interrupted, and slipped under Nur’s neck to come around to the same side as him again, “But what business do you have at a crypt??”

His toothy grin returned. “Ah, I am what my people call a prizrasha. A… charmer, I suppose would be the best translation. Of spirits.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Yes? Do you need to pass?” He looked at me, his fierce eyes curious. “Why do you say ‘excuse me’? Do you need some time to yourself?”

“No.. I mean... “ I shook my head, blinking stupidly a few times trying to sort myself out. “I-I said it like… excuse me, as in I’m not sure… I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

“Ah! Excellent, I did not know this.” He started to turn back to finishing securing the saddle and removing Nur’s hobble. “I said I was a prizrasha, as my people call us. And we are spirit charmers.”

“Y-yes, I heard the words,” I stammered, stepping out of the way as he moved to secure the reins and flip them over the gelding’s head, “I’m just not certain I understand what you mean by… “spirit charmers”.”

“Hmm.” He patted Nur’s flank, turning to look at me. “I suppose it is a rather inadequate description.” He stood by his mount’s head, taking up the reins and jerking his chin towards the road as he began to lead him out. “What is it that your people call ‘spirits’?”

“A ghost.” I replied, following him hesitantly. “A phantom. The… spirit of someone who has died that lingers on this plane.” I tried to keep the shiver from my voice.

He nodded along as I spoke. “I believe I see. This is a part of it, I am sure. However, I suppose the translation is poor… Nessiim have a stronger word for it. The dushrasha. It is the spirit of those who have passed, yes, but it is also in those still living.” He paused, seeming to struggle for words. “It is… hard to explain in this tongue.”

“So… What is it that you do with the… dushrasha?” I asked timidly, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. If I had thought him strange before, I certainly found my previous thoughts on him downright dull compared to them now.

“I charm them.” He replied, his voice light with the teasing tone returned to it. “A prizrasha speaks to the spirit and can cure what ails it. It is a form of healing that is not limited to the living.”

We had reached the road now, and Devaraj pivoted Nur to face the right direction before turning to me. I took a step back warily, then stopped myself. I placed a steadying hand on the draft’s flank, turning over his words in my head.

“... I-I’m still not sure I understand what it is you do-”

“It is rather simple, I suppose,” He placed his hands on his hips, looking down at me with his head tilted to the side, “A prizrasha is uniquely skilled at dealing with all manner of things. Sometimes, I am called to deal with a so-called malevolent spirit, other times to heal someone deeply scarred beyond the reach of local healers. Yet other times, to deal with untamable beasts.”

I opened my mouth to say more, but was silenced by the gasp that escaped instead as he hoisted me up, his big hands scooping around my waist, and sat me at the horn of the saddle. I quickly adjusted, swinging one leg over so I could properly sit rather than riding side-saddle again. A breath later the leather squeaked as he bounded up into place behind me. I tried not to stiffen as I felt the rough material of his tunic brush my back. Nur was already moving before he had fully settled, eager to be off.

“And for this particular… job?” I managed, my voice whisper soft.

“A dushrasha has been harassing the town, or so I am told.” He explained. “I will be seeing what ails it, and hopefully helping it leave this plane to its final resting place.”

A shiver went down my spine, and I jumped a little as his big arm came around my hips. Perhaps it was meant as a reassuring gesture, but instead it had me swallowing the lump that formed in my throat at his words. It’s fine, I told myself, you’ll be leaving soon. It doesn’t matter what he does.

“Have I upset you?” He asked as he used his big thighs to steer Nur around a deep rut in the road. I was surprised that his voice sounded… concerned.

“Ah.. n-no shri.” I assured him, and hoped again that part of his strangeness did not extend to being able to detect a lie. “I am just… surprised…”

“Dushrasha are not evil, Sera, even those without a body left on the mortal plane.” He told me as we rode along. “Most are pained, or tied by some grief or unfinished business. In both the living and the dead.” I felt his chin come to rest on the top of my head. “Think of me as a Healer, though perhaps at times this word is also a stretch.”

I nodded, falling silent. Trying to reconcile with the writing snake that was my stomach turning knots in my gut. We rode quietly for a time, and I tried not to pay too much attention to the soft sensation of his chest rising and falling against my back. I jumped again as his arm coiled about my middle suddenly flexed.

“If you are afraid, Sera… Please do not be.” He told me, his muzzle now beside my ear. My eyes flicked to the corners, as if they would be able to see him from there without moving my head. His long tongue flicked out, nearly grazing my cheek as it did. “I will keep you safe. No harm shall come to you, I promise.”

I felt my blush returning, and dipped my chin down. A thousand different possible responses came to my lips, but I could abide by none of them passing beyond. So I remained silent, giving only another curt nod in response.

It mattered not, within another hour we were at our destination. A small hamlet with a dozen buildings or so clustered around a main field. There were other houses in the distance, likely farmers and hunters. I doubted there were many people here who did not live off the land. We rode over a crest in the hill, then down the long muddy road. Heads raised as we passed, and whispers were quickly exchanged. I saw more than a few shoulders tense and hands go for the nearest item passable for a weapon. I shifted in the saddle, but a glance over my shoulder did not reveal how Devaraj felt about his welcome.

We rode unmolested into the center of town, stopping beside the tavern (as indicated by an old swinging sign in the shape of a foaming mug over its door). Nur tossed his head and snorted in irritation, obviously displeased with the likelihood of being stalled again. He scooped one meaty hoof into the soft ground, tossing clumps behind him as Devaraj slid from the saddle behind me.

“Go and procure us some food, yes?” He told me as he helped me down from the saddle. “I will secure Nur and bring in our bags. Then we shall notify the town leaders that we have arrived.”

I glanced over his shoulder at the numerous eyes lingering on us as he dug through the purse at his hip and pressed a few coins into my hands. Based upon what I saw, I doubted very much we would need to announce our arrival.

But I did as I was told and turned to duck into the tavern. Ignoring the eyes following me and the whispers brushing just beneath the scope of my hearing. I wondered briefly how good Devaraj’s hearing was.

The tavern was dim, dusty, and in disrepair. There were a few patchy holes in the rafters that allowed thin beams of broken sunlight to filter past the old wooden frame and hit the dirt ground below, and were the main source of late as the windows were far too grimy to provide much. A spattering of tables, mostly empty save for a few seedy sorts nursing chipped mugs, and a greasy bar at the far wall that looked as though it had seen better days. A few heads raised as the door thunked closed behind me, but interest was quickly lost in favor of whatever content they sipped from their cups. I made my way over to the bar, where a large bellied man sat rubbing at a mug with a dirty cloth.

“Ay, miss, what’ll ye need?” He asked as I approached, his voice gruff but polite.

I nodded to him in greeting. “Two breakfast plates. Sausage, egg, biscuits. The whole works if you have it.”

He returned my nod, placing the cup on the counter and slinging the cloth over his shoulder. “No’ a problem, miss. That’ll be three piece, yeah?” When I dropped the coin in his extended meaty hand, he gave me a cheery, broken toothed grin. “Ye’ll be wanting something to wet yer palate too?”

“Ale would be fine.” I replied, leaning against the bar for a moment and glancing around. The man disappeared into the back room, and I heard pots clanging and the creak of a stove cover opening.

I lingered for a minute on my meal request. Wondering if it would be sufficient. After all, I had forgotten to ask what Nessiim ate. I chewed over this for another moment, before a sudden wave of realization washed over me like a bucket of cold water splashed at my back. This was my opportunity. Devaraj would be otherwise occupied, and I could easily make myself scarce even in a town as small as this. Maybe even catch a ride with a traveling merchant or farmer to the next town. Certainly I didn’t want to have anything to do with his… work. A shiver worked its way down my spine at the thought of our earlier conversation. But it was quickly replaced by the skipping beat of my heart in my breast at the memory of his muzzle next to my ear… I will keep you safe. No harm shall come to you, I promise... I rubbed my fingers against the worn wood of the bar, trying and failing to assess why I suddenly felt so reluctant to leave. I had always been on my own, for as long as I could remember. What could possibly make me want to change that now? I glanced about again as my anxiousness rose, and my palms itched to relieve the room of their valuables, sparse as the pickings would be. Something to take my mind off… I shook my head and sighed. Resisting the urge.

The door thunked open again and I peeked over my shoulder to watch the reptilian man duck his huge horned head to fit beneath its frame. His entrance had the current patrons reacting much differently than my own; I saw them stiffen, uncurling from over their drinks and wary scowls quickly forming on their lips. If he noticed, Devaraj made no indication. His sharp yellow eyes settled on me and he gave a gentle nod before making his way over to an empty corner table. The closest adjacent table’s occupants quickly took their leave, gathering their things and scuttling to another table. I frowned, surprised by the abject fear I felt wafting off the patrons. Sure, he was an unusual specimen. But he was hardly aggressive looking... Or was I simply biased now?

I pivoted to attend to the barkeep, who’s return had returned preceded by the creaking of hinges from the kitchen door. He had two iron plates piled high with greasy looking food, and he plopped them down in front of me.

“Lemme get yer ale, Miss.” He told me. I returned a polite smile.

“Hey! Scaly!” Came a loud voice from behind me, and I stiffened slightly. “What the hell is wrong with you? You some sort of… devil spawn?”

I turned in time to see one of the burlier men approaching the corner table boldly. His shirt was stained and filled with holes, and he had a large crooked nose he looked down to glare at Devaraj. He had nothing on my companion’s muscle, but was certainly tall and heavy set enough to cause trouble.

“Indeed not, sir.” Came the thick reply, and I noticed the reptilian man’s usually airy tone had been replaced by a twitchingly harsh edge.

“Don’t ‘sir’ me, scales. I’m not your sir.” Growled the man. “We don’t let devils around here.”

Devaraj blinked slowly at the man, and I noticed his long tongue dart out briefly. The man stiffened at the sight, his eyes widening by a hair. But then he gritted his teeth, and I noticed his fists ball. I quickly gathered the plates in hand and bustled over to the table.

“Apologies for the delay,” I told Devaraj quickly, laying a plate in front of him and deftly putting my body between him and the irritated patron, “I hope this will be to your satisfaction.”

“Oi!” Came the expected grunt from behind me. I turned, pretending to just have noticed the man. He looked me up and down, scowling. But I saw a seed of doubt forming in his eyes. “.. You know this beast?”

“Beast?” I scoffed, hand to my chest, “By all that is holy, you must be joking. You mean you don’t recognize him?? You are the true beast if you would think him as much!”

The man blinked stupidly, my insult flying over his head. “...Eh?”

I placed my hands on my hips. “Well, I do apologize, I had believed you to be a traveled and educated man who would know a Spirit Charmer when he saw one!” My dry tone was lost on him, and I sighed deeply. “And here we are, summoned by your own leaders and treated to such disrespect!”

I noticed the rest of the room suddenly rapt with full attention. I squared my shoulders and craned my neck up to look at the man before me. I saw him glance around to his companions, becoming more uncertain by the minute. He reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“... Spirit Charmer, you say?”

“Yes! One of the best, for which I am certain you are all proud that your leaders were able to procure one of such notoriety!” I cocked my head to the side at him. “Unless we were mistakenly misinformed to your… troubles.”

I saw more than a few more spines stiffen, and the barkeep came slowly over with the two mugs of ale. I saw him eye Devaraj warily, then turned his attention back to me.

“Yer here about the spirit at the craig crypts?” He asked tentatively, placing the mugs on the table.

“The very ones.” I bluffed, hoping that was indeed what we were here for. “Have you been plagued long?”

The barkeep and his patron exchanged a look, and the crooked nosed man nodded slowly. “Ay, miss, we have. There’s a terrible keening most nights, and the things’ been killing sheep now… We’re worried it might be takin’ the children next.”

“Has anyone passed lately?” Devaraj asked, speaking up for the first time. “Or has the crypt been disturbed?”

“...There’s an old legend of a man who lived out by the craigs...” The barkeep answered hesitantly, glancing at the scaled man over my shoulder. “Folks’ be suspectin’ its his angry spirit hanging about.”

“Well then, it seems like my employer and I arrived just in time.” I exclaimed, hoping no one saw the nervous shiver down my spine at the mention of the spirit. “... Unless of course you’ve found an alternative method to deal with your spirit? We have many demands for his skills and would be happy to be on our way-”

“N-no ma’am… ah, miss…” The barkeep held up his hands, and even the crooked nosed patron shook his head sheepishly. “We be right glad yer… ‘employer’ is here.”

I cocked my head to the side again. “Are you now? Pardon, I was a bit confused by our welcome.”

When I looked pointedly at the other man, his face ruddied and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Beggin’ your pardon, Miss… Sir,” He looked over my shoulder at Devaraj, bowing his head humbly, “I didn’t know… I won’t bother you further…” He bowed his head and quickly scuttled out the door.

“I am right sorry fer Kam, there,” the barkeep continued as the other patrons made a point to go back to whatever had been occupying them before, “None of us ‘ave been gettin’ a good sleep, right? An’ we havena seen a… a Spirit Charmer before…”

I stepped to the side, moving to take the bench across from Devaraj. “Certainly understandable, such a profession is rare in these parts, I am told, which is why it was wise of your leaders to send for one.” I looked him over, staying on my feet a moment longer. “My employer and I have travelled a long way to be here, I hope it is alright that we take a meal before speaking with them?”

“N-not at all!” He exclaimed, bobbing his fat chin nervously. I saw his eyes flicker back over to Devaraj, but quickly dropped his gaze. “We’re on edge, sir, I hope ye understand. Wut with all the… activity in the area.”

Devaraj nodded his long chin, but otherwise said nothing. The barkeep stuttered out a final apology as well as a farewell, then moved back to his place at the bar. Leaving us alone to our meal. I picked up the biscuit, which was still warm from the oven, and broke it in half between my hands. An uneasy murmur had settled through the tavern, but other than a curious eye here and there, we were left to ourselves.

“That was expertly handled, Sera,” Mused my companion quietly, picking up his mug and giving it a curious sniff, “I do not believe I have ever had such an easy introduction.”

I scoffed softly, staring down at my food and chewing slowly. “That was easy?”

“By comparison, yes.” I peeked up at him through my lashes to see his elongated mouth stretching into a closed mouth smile. “I am pleased you decided to take my employment offer.”

I nodded lightly, hiding a blush and the stab of guilt that came from the thought of what might have happened had I decided to abandon him just a short while earlier… I took a quiet sip of my ale, then gestured to his plate after I replaced my cup on the table.

“I-I wasn’t sure if you would mind a traditional breakfast… Do you have a food preference?”

He chuckled lightly, and I watched as he took a bite of the sausage. “I do not. I am content with whatever meal I can procure. Though I must say,” He managed to smack his scaly lips, “This is better than I have yet had in your lands. It smells quite good.”

Another stab of guilt, wondering exactly had he been eating before that this greasy slop seemed so decadent to him. I swallowed my mouthful and took up another. As I took another swig of my ale, I used the opportunity to glance about again discretely. But it seemed we would not be bothered again, though I was certain our appearance would still be on the villagers’ lips for many days to come.

“You are good at this, Sera,” He intoned, and I turned my attention back to him, “One day in and you have already proved your worth tenfold.” He tilted his big horned head to the side and snaked his long tongue out at me. “Perhaps you deserve a raise.”

I choked on a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “You haven’t paid me yet… Besides, I’d settle for my own bedroll…” A blush rose to my cheeks. “And a horse… if possible.”

“Hmmm.” Came his response, and his thin nostrils flared slightly. “I will miss your warmth when we ride, but understand it might not be most ideal for you.” A finalizing nod. “We shall procure you a mount before we depart then.”

“H-how long will that be?” I asked curiously.

“Depends on the situation with this spirit. But I suspect it shan’t be more than a day or two at most to soothe its ails and bring some peace back to this town.” He took a large mouthful, scarfing it back with a pleased rumble in his deep chest. I watched his throat ripple as he swallowed. “There will be a contract ready by the time we finish, I am certain.”

That gave me a start. “... We?”

His toothy grin returned. “But of course! I shall be most grateful for your assistance, Sera!”

I pushed my plate away, unfinished. Suddenly having lost my appetite.

....

UPDATE: Part Three HERE

#A Line in the Sand #lizardman boyfriend #lizardman lover #lizardman x human #dragonborn #dragonborn lover #dragonborn boyfriend #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x human #tails-and-scales #slow burn #ghosts???#terato #exophilia #commission

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mahizli · 4 years ago

Text

Sparks of Hope (Obi-Wan, 1 BBY)

Art by agarthanguide and final part of ‘Sparks of Hope’.

***

The stars had adorned the evening sky once more, and the desert was painted in inks of azure and violet. The suns had set, and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting alone on a rock, watching the jewelled sky.

But he was not alone.

He had never been alone, not even as a tiny infant. Not in all these years where he had breathed in, and breathed out, the Force bathing each of his atoms with light, and love.

The Force was infinite, the Force was everything, and Obi-Wan was just a small, breakable vessel who would return to its currents once more.

Soon, my Padawan.

Qui-Gon’s voice echoed in his mind, reverberating deep within his chest where strength and steadfastness lay, and Obi-Wan breathed out.

“I know, Master.”

There had been such holes in him. Such cracks, and scars, and wounds, and fissures. There had been times where Obi-Wan had felt so lonely, so cold under the unforgiving heat, alone with the ghosts of people he had loved, and lost.

But he had not.

And the Force had filled those holes, one by one. Cradling him, first, curling around him, kissing his tears away. Embracing his infinite sadness until all was left was silence. Then wonder. And finally peace.

Obi-Wan had longed for peace, more than anything – almost ever since he could remember. Even as a tiny-limbed boy, he had sought for it – in the Temple’s Gardens, in Master Yoda’s eyes and silvery Force-signature. In the Archives, bathed in azure light, where knowledge used to sing. In Qui-Gon’s silence, whenever his Master closed his eyes, basking in the moment.

And later as a Jedi, through his very crystal, immersing himself into Soresu, finding a rare form of elation as he practised the katas, travelling unknown ways along with Luminara.

You are my twin moon, Obi.

“And you my twin moon, Nara”, he whispered, like so long ago, feeling the cool, serene Force-brush on his very brow, shuddering slightly, even though it did not hurt anymore.

It did not hurt anymore, because Nara was right there, within him and around him. As was Kit. And Quinlan. And Mace. And Plo. And Shaak. Adi. Aayla. Vokara. Ki-Adi. Jocasta. And Ahsoka.

Do not weep, Obi-Wan. Do not be sad.

“I am not”, he whispered, but even now, after all these years, tears still sprang to his eyes, because Obi-Wan was human, and frail, and mortal. “I am not sad. I cry because I love you. Because you are still there.”

Sweetest pea of Coruscant...

Obi-Wan smiled through his tears, and reached out for Shaak in the Force, feeling the ghost on fingertips run through his hair, like so long ago, when his hair had not been white, but fiery and baby-soft.

We will never leave you.

This was Mace, steadfast Mace who had stood like the pillar he was against the raising darkness. But it was also Plo, who had fallen under the fire of Men he loved. As had Ki-Adi. And Aayla. And so many more.

At the beginning of his stay here, Obi-Wan had whispered all their names, like an endless litany, like pearls of an ancient rosary, every night, on and on, until his voice was hoarse and his eyes burning with exhaustion instead of tears.

He had shed so many tears for the children, for the small Initiates and the young Padawans, during the night and even under the searing suns, until his body felt like nothing more than a dry well.

Until he planted the seeds Beru had given him, and watched the Funnel flowers blossom, green and tender as they all had been.

Master Obi-Wan…

The voices rose like silver bells, and Obi-Wan wiped his cheeks, facing the stars once more, because this – this still hurt, deep within.

Master Obi-Wan, what is the lesson we tried to teach you?

“Oh, dear ones…”, Obi-Wan breathed out. “I… I know. I am… I am so sorry.”

Can you say it aloud, Master Obi-Wan?

The tiny voices were playful, and Obi-Wan straightened, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, immersing himself deep within the Force.

“What happened to you is… it is not my fault.”

Force, how the words felt wrong in his mouth still.

It does not count if you do not believe it, Master Obi.

“I… I still struggle. Forgive me.”

We know… We forgive you…

It still made him cry. Because he had struggled so much to forgive himself, was not even sure to have achieved it entirely yet.

You forgave me.

The voice was fierce in the Force, and Obi-Wan exhaled, opening his eyes once more, reaching out through the Cosmic Force once more.

“Yes. Of course I did.”, he said, very softly, remembering yellow eyes in a gaunt, dark and red face.

Eyes that had turned to gold, as the Force had finally welcomed him back.

“I broke you. And you broke me back. It was an unending circle, Maul. And you were not the one spinning it.”

The Force was silent for a while, and Obi-Wan thought back of this moment, a year ago, when he had drawn his lightsaber for the last time. For Luke. For the Light.

His crystal had stayed silent and hidden ever since.

He had tried to bring balance once more. Tried to mend what had been broken.

The Sand people, first, who were still making offerings to their secret shrines, fearful of the desert demon Anakin had become in their minds. Obi-Wan had meditated close to these shrines, countless times, diffusing the Force with calming, peaceful currents.

You are safe. He will not harm you again.

There had been no more raids towards moisture farmers either, Obi-Wan had made sure of that. No more fighting for dominion in the desert – but protection towards everyone.

I told you so, Obi’ka.

“Yes, dearest”, he whispered. “I know you abhorred violence, and preferred neutral solutions. I suppose using Force currents isn’t entirely neutral, though…”

Well, it depends…

He loved the playfulness the Force always conveyed through Satine’s presence. It felt like a gentle warmth, against his spine. Something to lean on.

Padawan. One day, you will have to face him.

Qui-Gon’s voice was a grave reminder, and brought Obi-Wan back to the night and the desert once more.

Him.

His Padawan, who had committed atrocities Obi-Wan still struggled to believe, even after decades. Who was still alive, in a black, terrifying armour, circling the Galaxy and coming nearer and nearer in the Force, forcing Obi-Wan to shield, fiercely, and mute both his and Luke’s presences.

There is still goodness in him.

“I know, Padmé.”

Anakin had burned like the fiercest light in the Force. His Padawan had harboured the raw, explosive strength that came with true power – but there had been wounds and cracks in his soul Obi-Wan had failed to see and mend.

No, Padawan.

Obi.

Master Obi-Wan.

“He was… too attached”, Obi-Wan whispered. “To those he loved. To you, Shmi. To you, Padmé. To you, dearest Ahsoka. And… to me.”

The night cradled Obi-Wan, the stars kissed his hair like every eve, on the high peaks of the Western Dune Sea. He was cloaked in his brown robe, the one marking him as a Jedi, but could as well be a farmer’s or a traveller’s.

“It sprang from love. I know it sprang from love. But he was misled. Darkness surrounded him from the very first day.”

Sidious.

Once more, Maul’s fierce whisper echoed through the Force, the name resonating like a curse.

“Sidious. And fear. And loneliness. And pride. And a sense of exception that turned into expectations so crushing and contradictory it breached his very soul.”

Do you pity him?

Ah. This was the stern voice of his Grandmaster, who spoke very rarely to him, but whose words Obi-Wan had learned to mark.

“I do. I do feel nothing but compassion and love for Anakin. But, if I have to strike down Vader to free him, I will.”

Are you willing to lay down your life, for him?

It was a test – one more test. Obi-Wan knew it, had been used to the Force’s teachings, who often chose to spoke through voices he loved. So Obi-Wan searched his heart, thoroughly, and let the Force flow through him before he answered.

“Not for him. But for balance, for peace… I am.”

The voices were silent, for a while, becoming one with the Force once more. They were all so close. So close to Obi-Wan now. Sometimes his very atoms seemed to resonate with theirs, separated only by a tiny veil from their very essence… Parts and sums alike.

Soon, my Padawan.

Qui-Gon’s voice echoed once more – a prophecy, a warning, perhaps. But to Obi-Wan, it sounded like a promise.

Like small sparks of hope, shining like a beacon in the infinite darkness of the sky, flooding the Force with light.

FINIS.

#star wars fanfiction #Obi-Wan Kenobi #hurt/comfort #what a ride it has been #I need to let go of this story now #and it's so bittersweet #thank you all for reading #for liking and reblogging #please feel free to tell me which chapter/character you preferred #that's why I have an ask box #much love to you all #take care #meysun

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dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 4 years ago

Text

Seen ✓ - 1

REWRITE OF “Can You See The Stars”

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: fear of being kidnapped Word Count: 2.4k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. A/N:This is my second attempt at the story everyone loved, with an actual pllot in mind this time. So, attempt number two, better writing, better story. Have at it kids.

I have tagged the old taglist for this first part. Let me know if you wanna be removed/ added

Beta: The lovely @percywinchester27 . Thank you so so much hon :) Masterlist

Chapter One: you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night

Y/n | Sam

The road to independence is uphill, and Y/n knows this better than anyone. She’s done it all. She’s gone through jobs at a similar speed with which she goes through books, worked two or more of them, while also studying for college… She knows how it works, and it’s really fucking difficult to balance emotional baggage the size of a city, an underage sister and college, while also trying to keep, not only yourself, but another person, alive, under a safe roof with food in your stomachs.

Currently, she’s only working one job, at a dive bar owned by a friend of a friend as a waitress.

It’s a difficult job, and Y/n has struggled with it, but the hardest part is not the endless knowledge one needs to mix drinks –on the nights Joel takes time off and she has to take his spot behind the bar- or the carrying up to twenty pounds of glasses and drinks and delivering them at the right table without soaking herself or anyone else with copious amounts of alcohol. Any minimum wage worker will tell you the same thing- clients of any kind fucking suck. Especially if you’re a young woman at a dive bar after midnight.

Another thing she’s struggled with is not having too much money, which is why she’s needed multiple jobs in the past, so she has to use public transport- buses specifically, to go to and from work. And that is exactly where she finds herself, a couple hours after midnight, at her bus stop, five minutes from the bar, when she finds a phone which, unbeknownst to her, will flip her world upside down.

It sits on the pavement of the bus stop, limp and sad. The screen is cracked a significant amount, and for a second she figures someone got rid of it and was too much of an asshole to throw it in the trash. But the second that thought crosses her mind, the screen lights up with a concerning text.

dude where the fuck are you?!

The contact reads “Sam”, and Y/n stands over the phone staring at it. She’s concerned. What if the phone’s owner is in trouble? The device may have fallen from their pocket on the pavement and cracked because they were running from someone and never made it home, and now whoever is texting them is worried for their well-being. Anxiety grips her heart.

It’s instinct that brings her to kneel down and pick it up. She can’t possibly know when the owner lost it, or how long the phone has been sitting there, but there’s an overwhelming urge to contact this Sam person and let them know what’s going on. Of course, the voice in Y/n’s head tells her that this all could just be a product of her anxiety, but it beats leaving it there and having it be stolen by a passerby.

Whatever, right? Best case scenario, she contacts the owner, who is perfectly safe and sound, and they take their phone back. She’s not really planning to pocket it. It’s fairly damaged anyways. Her own three year old, beat-up, 100$ phone is in better condition.

The bus arrives, and Y/n picks up the phone and boards it.

As she sits in her usual seat in the back, alone in the bus apart from an elderly man asleep with his head on a window and a cap on his head near the front, she starts speculating, eyes glued to the black device in her hands. Who’s the owner? Who is Sam to them? Perhaps a partner? A friend? How did the owner lose their phone? Why would this Sam sound so concerned, and most importantly, is the owner okay?

The heavy weight of dread weighs her chest at the thought of the phone’s owner being in trouble and without a phone. She must contact Sam immediately.

Hey, is this Sam?

As she awaits for a response, her curiosity is killing her. The intrigued part of her, reasons that she should snoop, it’s alright, she’s only looking for more information about the owner. Like whether or not they’re a woman or a man- which, sadly, matters when you’re walking alone in dark streets like the ones around this area- and perhaps their age –because, again, it matters if they are a teenager or a forty-year old adult.

The lack of passcode indicates someone older, with nothing to hide, or perhaps someone less technologically savvy, again, someone who may not be very young. The lockscreen is the most popular Led Zeppelin icon, and she instantly respects their music taste, and the home screen is some generic western movie from the 90s with Clint Eastwood. The chances of this belonging to someone younger further decline.

There’s a grand total of four downloaded apps in the phone. There’s an email app, a scrabble app, a microphone recorder and a dating app, no other sign of social media. Someone over 18 years old, definitely.

Soon, she’s tapping on the dating app, and opening their profile page. Holy shit, she thinks.

A guy, the tall, dark and handsome kind. Spiky hair and a smolder-like smile, sharp edges everywhere on his face apart from his gentle, olive-shaped and colored eyes. His lips are full, his nose straight, and his eyelashes long, dark and thick. He’s a real-life dreamboat, the kind you see in movies and Cosmopolitan articles about sex. He’s sitting on a black muscle car, a Chevrolet, with his thick thighs barely contained in blue jeans.

Dean Winchester, the app writes. 28. Male. Likes: old cars, beer, hard rock, westerns, she figured that much, bacon burgers. Dislikes: pop music, modern horror movies, uncomfortable beds. Not looking for anything serious, just a night of fun ;), and wow, okay, he sounds a bit like a dick. The very Red-blooded American Male kind, that enjoys BBQs and winking at women from across the bar. She’s had enough of those during her line of work; she can recognize them from a mile away.

Whatever the case, her moral compass couldn’t allow her to pass up on the opportunity to possibly help someone in trouble. She ignores her urge to roll her eyes, and scrolls a little, finding other pictures of the same guy, when suddenly two separate notifications appear, the phone itself vibrating. One is from the app, which has now received a picture from this girl, Jamie, one which she certainly doesn’t plan on opening, seeing as it’s followed by a winky face. The second one is from Sam.

jesus dean how drunk are you

yes it’s sam. your brother? remember?

No, this isn’t Dean, uh.

My name is Y/n. Your brother lost his phone at a bus stop, near a bar.

i should’ve figured. dean rarely ever uses punctuation.

nice to meet you i guess

Nice to meet you, too.

So basically, uhm, I thought you might help me return his phone to him? I got worried, because this was dumped on the sidewalk, I thought he may be in trouble or something.

knowing him he probably dropped it while being too shitfaced to function.

gotta admit i’m impressed though. most people would’ve pocketed it by now.

I mean, it’s not much use to me with such a cracked screen haha.

yeah i guess.

i don’t know about getting it back to him though. i’m in kansas right now so i’m not close by. i don’t think i can help you.

he doesn’t use social media either.

Crap.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this phone then?

keep it probably.

You sure there’s no other way I can reach him?

i mean i can give you his email but i’m not sure he’ll respond.

I’ll take it. Thank you :)

no problem :)

As she looks up the bus stops, and she quickly realizes this is her stop. Throwing profanities loudly enough to wake the older man at the front of the bus, she scrambles for her things, haphazardly thrown in the seat next to her, and gets off the bus. She pats herself down, making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything as the doors of the bus shut, and starts down the road to her apartment complex.

She could probably navigate this road blind. There are many ways to reach the apartment she’s renting from the bus stop, but her favorite goes through the park. It’s a large area, full of big trees with thick foliage and leaves that brown in the fall. The paths are paved and winded, and the park benches are stained with dark wood stain and curve comfortably. She enjoys coming here in evenings she has off, watching the sun descend behind the top of the trees with a good book.

The air smells like oncoming rain now, and with headphones deep in her ears, she walks taking deep breaths and enjoying the clear atmosphere that seems so unlike the roads that surround the park. As soon as she spots the first raindrop falling from the sky, she pulls her hood over her head and smiles.

It’s minutes later, when single drops have picked up to a drizzle, that she gets a sinking feeling, her hair standing up on edge at the back of her neck, shoulders knotting closer to her ears. Someone is close to her.

With the wire pinched between her thumb and index, she pulls one earbud off and pays attention to the surrounding sounds. Sure enough there’s a second pair of footsteps behind her.

Fuck, if she gets kidnapped or attacked right now, she’s fucked. There are no witnesses, and at this time of night screaming for help would be futile. She checks her bag, but her paper spray is nowhere to be found.

Yeah. Definitely fucked.

Her hands go deep in her pockets, going for her phone, but as she hears the footsteps behind her picking up speed along with hers, she panics and grabs Dean’s instead. She doesn’t look for her own, there’s no time for that, so she does the first thing she thinks of.

She texts Sam.

I think I’m being followed.

what?

Yeah

wait what’s going on? are you okay? who’s following you?

I’m walking home from work. I can’t see who it is, but they’re definitely on my tail.

how are you even typing right now??

is there any buildings around? somewhere public to get in?

It’s 3 am. Everything is shut and I’m in the middle of a fucking park, Sam.

Fuck, I’m fucked.

what are you doing at 3 am in the middle of a fucking park then?!

A hand falls on her shoulder and she goes to scream, before she’s quickly spun around. Her free hand is curled in a fist, ready to fall on the attacker’s nose, when they speak.

“Y/n! I thought it was you!”

“Connor?!” She squints and pushes her hair away from her forehead, heart just about ready to fail out of the fright she’s gotten. “Fuck’s sake, dude, what the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me in the middle of the night like this?!” Rain still falls on her, grounding her to the present, the fact she won’t have to fight for her life and corporeal integrity sinking in slowly.

Her neighbor smiles a crooked smile, watching her place a hand over her heart and taking a deep breath. His fluffy blonde hair is damp under the light rain, light green eyes glowing under the street lights. She’s so angry at him right now, she legitimately thought she was gonna die for a second there.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says, dropping his hand from her shoulder. “I didn’t think to call out to you.” A shrug.

“It’s okay,” it’s really not, but there’s no point in staying angry at him. Besides, she figures she’ll be a little safer with him walking next to her all the way back to their apartment complex.

On the way back, they catch up. Connor is back in town after a long week and a half at his sister’s wedding. He’s in a brand new relationship with the guy he’s been pining over for like 9 months now, and he got a job at the bookstore, close to their building, he’s starting next week. He was out for a drink, he offers as an explanation, and was returning home, when he bumped into her. The park is also his favorite route to take.

The key dangles from her hands and finds a home in the lock and twists, while Y/n waves at her neighbor.

“Have a good night, Connor.”

“You too, Y/n.” It’s delivered with a wink and a bright smile.

The motions of dropping her bag by the kitchen counter, dumping the keys in the small bowl and hanging her coat on the hanger are delivered on autopilot in quick succession. Shoes toed off, hair pulled out of her lazy bun, she falls unceremoniously on her thrifted couch, feet suspended on the hand rest. Emmy must be asleep, the only lights on in the house are the fairy lights over the couch, setting a soft glow over the furniture. Y/n sighs. What a day.

Seconds before she falls asleep on the couch, a phone vibrates and it’s definitely not her own. Her eyes snap wide open, and she curses, fumbling with Dean’s device.

The messages are seven, and they all share the same panicked tone. Upon reading them, Y/n facepalms and curses, guilt weighing her down. Poor guy.

y/n?

what’s going on?

are you okay?

y/n

what the hell is going on.

you’re not replying.

please text me if you’re safe.

My God, Sam, I’m so sorry.

It was a neighbor/friend, he sneaked up on me.

you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night.

I’m genuinely so sorry, Sam, I had no idea it was him.

it’s okay

you were scared.

i am starting to question your choice in friends though.

Y/n grins for the first time that day. It’s wide and full. Sam sounds like a guy she’d hang out with.

Hahahah yeah.

I promise, Connor’s odd, but he means well.

well i have to go

but i’m glad you’re safe

Again, I’m really sorry to make you go through that.

it’s fine really.

Thank you.

Goodnight :)

Night :)

---

Part 2

A/N 2: Tell me how you’re liking the rewrite!

Old Can You See The Stars taglist: @shutupiminlooove @sammysgirl1997 @kymberlytorres @bambi95-blog @demonic-meatball @thekarliwinchester @littlekay15 @li-m-ii @thinspo-isuppose @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker @marichromatic @illuminatus42 @lazy-author @mirandaaustin93 @hauntedsiriel @pilaxia @devilgirlsarah @nobodys-baby-now @captiveties @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream

Sam taglist @kymberlytorres @theboykingsam @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes @captainmarvelcorps @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @nellachain

#sam winchesterx reader #sam x fem!reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfic #sam x reader

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wicked-game-black-butler · 4 years ago

Text

Lithium

Tick. Tock.

The room descended into a midnight blue, the golden rays of the sun having chased their way out of the study some time ago. Dying embers crackled in the hearth where a large wingback chair was tucked close to the mosaic lined fireplace. It was cold. The frigid, numbing tendrils of winter’s dusk slowly crept into the grand room. But Ciel did not move from his seat to stir the embers back to life. He did not call for Sebastian for a blanket. A blanket wouldn’t help. Ciel was always cold.

Tick. Tock.

He cast a scathing glare at the clock which sat above the mantle. The vexing machine still marched on, just as he did, with automatic purpose- to document the passing of time. Time. It was a cruel thing. It took from all, ever hungry. Heartless. Unfeeling. Insatiable. Everything he had striven to be. But even the great Earl Phantomhive was not immune to time, just like he was not immune to the feelings he had so desperately tried to deny. And as it carried on, it had taken from him as it did all things until he was left an echoing husk. Empty.

Tick. Tock.

With a heavy sigh he rose from the leather chair, his joints aching from sitting for so long. His fingers reached toward the ceiling as he stretched his petit frame. Casting the mocking instrument one last condemning glance before leaving the room and stepping into the dark hall. Sebastian would be venturing up soon to inform him that dinner was prepared in the dining room, but Ciel couldn’t be bothered. He wasn’t hungry. Nothing could satisfy the gaping void which had made its home inside him.

Tick. Tock.

His eyes ached as he ventured down the dimly lit hallway, the only light from the deepening shades of twilight. Sebastian. Now he was a creature who was kin to time. He was just as heartless, as unfeeling, and as ravenously insatiable. Just as Ciel’s revenge had been. How he wished his vengeance would be fulfilled. Hadn’t it taken enough? Would such a hollow victory be worth everything he’d had to offer in return? There had been a time when he had thought it was. But that was when the manor was filled with warmth, light, laughter, and the love of his remaining family and devoted servants and friends. Now it was nothing but cold darkness. The rooms which were once kept with pristine care had, according to his order, fallen into disrepair. Dust and cobwebs were now their greatest adornment. And the halls which were once pathways, like veins, directing the life that resided within, were only haunted with the ghosts of those who had once traveled them.

Tick. Tock.

The sun had fully set by the time he made it to his chambers. Though that was no issue- he could navigate the sparsely furnished room even in the consuming darkness. His hand ran along the soft down duvet, the mattress giving ever so slightly under his weight as he sat on the side of his bed. Even now the balls of his feet barely grazed across the cold, smooth surface of the wood floor. In all this time not much had really changed, yet everything was completely different. Suffocating silence descended on him, the gaping maw of its soundless scream deafening and his chest tightened. Nights were always the most difficult, when his loneliness was most acute. For when he was surrounded by the blinding, oppressive cloak of darkness he found his vision most clear. He was alone. Yes, terribly alone. In the night. In the dark.

Tick. Tock.

He had known Sebastian was there before he announced himself, had felt the pull of the demon’s presence before he had set foot into the room. Ciel squinted, a jabbing pain shooting through his temple as, with a snap of the butler’s fingers, a healthy, roaring fire sprang to life in the hearth, a fresh flame dancing atop the candles of the candelabra which sat on his bedside table. Sebastian always brought warmth.

“My lord.” Sebastian said quietly, “You are in bed.”

“I am.”

Ciel did not look when the demon soundlessly made his way to the corner of his bed.

“But you have not taken your dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Silence.

“My lord.”

His call was barely a whisper, but the tenderness in that honeyed tone made his heart ache painfully. Without thinking, he desperately grasped a handful of his shirt and took a shuddering breath, twisting the pressed fabric as if that alone would seal the weeping cracks of his heart.

“My lord.” the whispering call came again and Ciel looked up in time to see Sebastian kneel before him, “Your hands are cold.”

With gentle movements, Sebastian pried his fingers from his shirt, taking the Earl’s hands in his own. Ciel sighed at the contact- skin on skin- and closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth of Sebastian’s touch. Both had stripped off the charade some time ago- Ciel his eyepatch and Sebastian his gloves. There was no need to hide any longer. There was no one left to see.

A sob sat at the back of his throat, tears burning his eyes beneath closed lids, as the demon wrung his master’s hands with his own, his fingers prickling with discomfort with the return of feeling. Only Sebastian could bring back feeling.

“My lord.”

The third call fell from his servant’s lips and Ciel opened his eyes, a few stray tears escaping from his mismatched gaze. Before him Sebastian still knelt, his expression calm and neutral as always, though his crimson eyes were lit with hungry curiosity.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Ciel paused at the question, knowing full well what the demon meant. There was only one thing which could make him feel, could lift him above the drowning waters of nothingness. Something that satisfied more than any cake, more intoxicating than any of Lau’s drugs. Sebastian.

“Yes.” he answered quietly, yet firmly, “Sebastian, please. Make me forget.”

Tick. Tock.

Sighs and groans filled the room. Sweat glistened off alabaster skin. The air was thick and heady with desire. The bed, which had been neatly made but a half hour ago was a wrinkled mess, blankets strewn about from the passionate, undulating movements of the two men. For every cry of Sebastian’s name, he answered in kind. Every touch, every thrust was like fire in his veins- all consuming.

Ciel rocked back against Sebastian as he buried himself deep inside his master, the electric current of pleasure traveling from his cock and up his spine, his back arching from the sensation. His face pressed against his pillow, which was wet from spit and tears, losing himself in the brief refuge of this blissful moment. In this moment there was no empty manor, no dead loved ones, no revenge. Only the burning of desire, the intoxicating pleasure, the stretch, the fullness, the pain. Sebastian.

Tick. Tock.

The candles still flickered with the same healthy light they had an hour ago. Ciel watched the dancing flames, laying on his back, naked, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes drooping with satisfaction. His body was spent, but in its wake something vaguely resembling contentment rested in his chest, however short lived it might be.

The bed shifted as Sebastian rose and Ciel’s gaze roamed the demon’s form, memorizing every dip and curve of shapely muscle before, with a flourish of his hand, his butler’s uniform materialized and enveloped his frame. Once properly dressed, he turned on his heel to face his reclining master.

“Is there any more I can do for you, my lord?”

And there it was- the professionalism, the indifference. With one question the facade shattered and, with a wrenching twist of his heart, Ciel was plunged back into his melancholy. Sebastian did not care. The pleasure he derived from him was no more than what the butler could extract from a common whore. Sex was a duty, part of his service to his mature master, and nothing more.

He turned his attention away from the other man and fixed his gaze on the canopy of his four-poster bed, the tendrils of numbness already beginning to spread out from his heart to take hold in other parts of his body.

He had asked Sebastian once, if revenge was always so lonely. After chiding him for his odd display of sentimentality, his tone became more serious and he answered that he could not be sure. Given he had no capacity to love, he had no grasp on what loneliness might feel like. Though he had heard the same sentiments from some of his previous masters and human literature seemed to reflect the same, providing a new twist to the phrase “revenge is a meal best served cold”.

Sebastian waited, ever patient, for his master’s command. Ciel closed his eyes, the welcome, ebbing lull of exhaustion moving him closer to longed for unconsciousness. With each breath, silence pressed in on him, the only sound which dared to defy the consuming void was that of the steady ticking of the clock, both constant and mocking. It sneered at his suffering, cruelly reminding the Earl it would continue on- with or without him. And how Ciel longed it would be the latter.

“Leave. And take the clock with you, too.” he commanded, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Yes, my lord.”

Ciel remained still, chest rising and falling with each second. And, though he could not see Sebastian, he could feel him as he moved about the room. The candelabra was extinguished. The fire was stoked. The only other sign Sebastian had left was the soft click of the door as it closed behind him.

The tears flowed freely now- silent, a welling sorrow breaking free from his chest in the butler’s absence. He turned, burying his face in the pillow to drown out the strangled sobs that fought to slip from his lips and cupped the sides up to cover his ears. For, though he was sure Sebastian had carried the clock from his chambers, he could still hear the steady rhythm in his mind- cruel and taunting.

And, in that moment, the realization of his solitude crushed him. He was so terribly alone- in the night, in the dark.

Tick. Tock.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This is a submission for @griever-bit-my-finger‘s SebaCiel song event, for the day for Sad Songs. It was inspired by Lithium by Evanescence and Still Here by Digital Daggers.

#sebacielmusicweek #sebaciel music week #kuroshitsuji #fanfiction #aged up sebaciel #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #black butler

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themurphyzone · 4 years ago

Text

PatB Nova Ch 7

Ch 7: Perturb

AN: This chapter’s somehow got long so a lot of stuff I wanted to originally place here’s going in the next one.

FFN Link

Terran Date 2015.4.23

Since I currently lack access to my regular equipment, I’m making do with an audio recording program from a Terran computer. I must admit it’s not nearly as efficient as my usual method, but it will have to suffice.

Pinky is an…interesting host. I won’t deny that he’s rather generous, and the delicacy he identified as cream cheese is surprisingly palatable. I’ve also taken up residence in his cage which he also kindly offered for my use as a safe place to sleep. The sponge bed has been moved to the cage per my request.

Objective assessment of Pinky: his species is a lab mouse, his eyes have to be some odd mutation because it cannot be possible for them to be that blue, and he’s an amiable idiot. As I’m recording this, he’s currently scolding two inanimate objects for their failure to keep the cage clean in his absence.

Today’s goal: Pinky is planning for a trip to the local mall to obtain a hat to wear for the Derby. Once again, it’s an illogical custom I am unfamiliar with. I’ve agreed to accompany him for two purposes. The first, clues on Snowball’s whereabouts. And the second, to gather intel on Terran habits for world domination purposes. Snowball and I will be able to put my information to good use when we’re reunited.

Signing off for now, the Brain.

o-o-o-o-o

Getting lost, losing communications, and the unrelenting solitude were the major dangers of setting foot outside of Penumbra. Only the first two conditions applied now.

Pinky leapt through the mail slot and danced along the pavement. He wore a lavender blouse that left his shoulders exposed, his shorts made of a Terran material called denim. Apparently, this excursion was also an opportunity to make a fashion statement. But Brain didn’t see the practicality of Pinky’s clothes. The silly Terran stepped on an odd rock here and there, but his twirls didn’t slow down. Just looking at him made Brain slightly dizzy.

Thin, white clouds drifted lazily in the vast blue sky far above them. Brain looked up, one hand on his brow to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. New Selene and the stars weren’t visible, though they were somewhere much higher than the sky.

He squinted and lowered his gaze to the ground, dark spots forming in his vision and making everything rather blurry.

Brain had switched his jumpsuit and gloves for a Terran disguise, a simple red shirt and another pair of denim shorts, both items borrowed from Pinky’s large collection of outfits. But since Pinky’s legs were longer, the shorts technically functioned more like pants, and the shirt was knee-length. Though it was comfortable, so he went along with it for now.

Besides, Pinky had been shockingly adamant about the jumpsuit and gloves needing a wash. Brain had protested at first since the material had anti-olfactory functions built in, but Pinky insisted and Brain agreed if only to shut up the Terran.

Procuring formal clothes for conquest would just have to wait.

And there was another issue he hadn’t anticipated.

Everything was so colorful and loud. He was so used to everything being muted and dark. Already he missed the ever present hum of the lab technology, and he’d barely set foot outside the door. Brain stood on the coarse welcome mat, on the border between safety and the unknown.

He was just grateful his accelerated healing kicked in overnight, and the bandages were no longer necessary.

“Come on, Brain!” Pinky shouted as he skipped along the pavement, careful to avoid all the cracks. “The sidewalk is great! Just don’t step on the crack, or you’ll break your mama’s back!”

Brain scowled. “My mother is on a different planet entirely, if she hasn’t already fallen victim to the many dangers of the natural world. Stepping on a cracked rock here on Terra will have no effect on her skeletal structure. The two actions are entirely uncorrelated.”

“The corals are related?” Pinky gasped, hands flying to his mouth in genuine surprise. “I knew they looked similar!”

There was absolutely no reasoning with him, was there?

A large, sleek metal structure roared down the large stretch of pavement in front of them, a cloud of smoke trailing behind it as it rounded a corner and disappeared. It wasn’t his first time seeing one of those vehicles, since they’d been peppered throughout the satellite images he’d viewed back on Penumbra.

A car. One of the forms of land-based transportation on Terra, Brain recalled from the file on Terran technology. Highly practical for traveling long distances.

Cars were much larger in person. The images made them seem so tiny.

And once again, he found himself woefully lacking essential information. Did cars function similarly to a rover? How did it zoom by so quickly? What was the power source?

He looked up at the sky again, but the sunlight had somehow gotten stronger during his pondering, and he quickly averted his eyes.

“Poit. Your eyes are so squinty, Brain!” Pinky lightly tapped Brain’s head, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Don’t look directly into the sun. It’s bad for your eyes and you’d need to eat lots and lots of carrots to fix them and then your fur will turn orange!”

“A side effect of all this light,” Brain replied, making a mental note that carrots were an edible item that caused orange fur. He’d have to avoid them in the future. “I’m fine. Let’s depart for this…mall.”

The word felt strange on his tongue. But his feet wouldn’t leave the safety of the welcome mat.

“I’d love for you to come along, but if you’d rather not, that’s fine too,” Pinky said. There was a slight tinge of disappointment in his voice though, but he still seemed as sunny as the actual star. It was somewhat unsettling.

“Won’t you join my little expedition, Brain?” Snowball wrapped an arm around Brain’s shoulders. Fine mist trailed from the aisam’s claws, surrounding them with an icy chill that traveled up Brain’s spine and settled into his fur. “The road to Eclipse Lab is awfully barren and I could use a little company. Perhaps we could test our skills with star identification along the way.”

Brain shoved him away and Snowball clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“For the last time, I’m n-not interested in visiting that horrible, scrik-ridden m-mess of a lab, Snowball. If you wish to leave New Selene sometime in the next cycle, you will allow me to fine-tune the propulsion system in peace,” Brain retorted, hating the tremor in his voice caused by a brief yet violent case of the shivers. He picked up a wrench and examined it for overuse damage, turning his back on Snowball so he wouldn’t see Brain’s hands tremble.

Whether it was from the cold or the mere thought of setting foot in the place where he’d been prodded and restrained by long, claw-like fingers, he couldn’t say.

“You can’t be an invertebrate, Brain,” Snowball grumbled. His disappointment was palpable, and Brain’s fingers tightened around the wrench. “Our combined intellect is unparalleled and far superior to those imbecilic Terrans. Whatever it takes to rule, whatever it takes to wear the crown, we must seize it by any means possible.”

Then he was gone, and the Conquistador’s silent frame became Brain’s steadfast companion.

“Earth to Brain! Oh sorry, should I say Terra to Brain instead? Come in, Terra to Brain! This is Lieutenant Pinky reporting in! Over!”

Pinky was suddenly in front of his face, and Brain leapt back in surprise. He must’ve been lost in his ponderings again. Pinky held something behind his back, something bright and yellow poking out near his tail.

“Yes, Pinky. I hear you,” Brain sighed. Then Pinky showed him the item behind his back, and it turned out to be the oddest pair of safety goggles Brain had ever seen in his life. The star-shaped frame was yellow and provided little protection for the nose, and the lens were tinted dark instead of clear. “These goggles are highly impractical for technical work.”

“They’re sunglasses actually. Slipped inside and grabbed ‘em while you were pandering. I use these if I’m playing movie star-slash-chiropractor! Try them on!” Pinky said. Deciding it was best to humor him, Brain slid on the glasses, and his vision became a shade darker. The colors were still there, just not as bright. The headache that had threatened to form dissipated into nothingness.

“This is bearable,” Brain said. Pinky was slightly darker as well, though the tinted lens did nothing to diminish his shining blue eyes.

Pinky clapped his hands in glee. “Exactly! Also works for grizzlies and honey bears and teddies! And now you’re a movie star too!”

Brain rolled his eyes, sweeping his antennae back so they didn’t get in the way. “That’s not a classification of any star. Despite your questionable logic, and I use that word in a fairly liberal sense, the color spectrum of your planet is no longer a strain on my eyes. So…thanks.”

“Aww! You’re welcome, Brain,” Pinky said. “And really, you can wear them in the lab too. I don’t mind.”

“No, Pinky. I’m coming along. I have goals to accomplish during this trip,” Brain said. Taking a deep breath, he stepped off the welcome mat, then hopped off the step and onto the pavement.

It wasn’t as difficult as his mind made it out to be.

Pinky laughed, and Brain barely got out of the way in time before several ounces of idiosyncrasies could crash into him.

Brain wouldn’t get anything done by sitting around and being too afraid to leave the lab’s safe haven. Somewhere underneath the massive sky, Snowball was likely planning his own day’s activities. And today, they’d be taking the first steps to conquer Terra.

Through any means possible.

o-o-o-o-o

Brain prided himself on his keen observation skills, something that would serve him well when he and Snowball finally exploited the inhabitants’ many weaknesses. Pinky considered it a ‘a blousery, blustery, beautiful day’, whatever that meant, and skipped to and fro in every direction to take in the sights of the city. Brain kept him in view at all times, not wanting to be left alone in this strange world.

He quickly found that the word ‘Terrans’ failed to encapsulate the biodiversity of the planet, in addition to individual differences between members of the same species. Humans varied greatly in size, shape, and appearance, though even the tallest ones weren’t nearly as large as a Selenian. Some had their heads buried in their devices with cords going into their ears and were oblivious to their surroundings, and Brain had to keep an eye out for those dangerous folks since they didn’t seem to care about anyone in their path.

While inconvenient for him, their failure to pay attention could easily be turned into an advantage.

Several humans walked alongside quadrupedal creatures that sniffed the ground and had collars and ropes around their necks that led to a handle in the human’s hand. Pinky called them ‘dogs’ and ‘leashes’. He was more than happy to clarify anything Brain didn’t understand, and while he figured that he would have to research Terra more in-depth later, Pinky’s happy explanations were sufficient for now.

Brain firmly held Pinky’s hand as they passed by a human and a golden-furred dog with large paws and a long, panting tongue. The dog sniffed them curiously and made a ‘groomph’ noise, and though it didn’t seem hostile, Brain dragged Pinky away before the dog had the opportunity to slobber all over them.

But even the ‘goldy’, as Pinky called it, was more preferable to the tiny, yappy thing that Pinky identified as a ‘Chi-wa-wa’. At least it was yanked back by its leash before it could give chase to them.

Pinky called himself a mouse, and his friend Pharfignewton was a horse. Two species down.

The flying creatures were pigeons, crows, and sparrows. They ate whatever they could scavenge on the ground. The tiny things that scurried around his feet were insects, and Pinky yanked him back from stepping on a sidewalk crack filled with red and black ‘ants’.

“Fire ants will make your feet itchy and tingly!” he warned. “And not the pleasant kind either!”

Brain committed his warning to memory.

Cars crawled by slowly on the street, packed closely as far as the eye could see. They made odd screeching noises from time to time, the humans inside grumpily slamming their palms against their steering devices.

Lights on every corner controlled the flow of cars. Everyone became furious with red and brightened when it was green. He wasn’t exactly sure what yellow was supposed to do since some cars sped right past and others came to a stop. Regardless, humans were dependent on those lights in their vehicles. It was an interesting observation.

There were plenty of additional rules too, which Pinky was adamant on teaching. Only cross at the white strips at the lights, and only when the red hand changed to the green human. Look left, right, then left again before crossing. Pat your head and rub your belly if you see an out-of-state license plate…well, Brain was pretty sure that wasn’t a safety rule since none of the humans were doing it. Just a Pinky thing then.

Everything was alive, from the structures that creaked on the highest buildings to the scattered pebbles underfoot. While he’d known the planet’s atmosphere carried sound far better than New Selene’s, experiencing it for himself was nothing short of fascinating. He’d have to research the exact composition that made it all possible later. Energy flowed towards him in all directions, though the daytime thankfully masked his glowing orbs.

Blending in wasn’t difficult either. Humans were more oblivious than he thought.

“Last corner, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed, twirling happily as they waited for the signal to cross the busy intersection. “Then we’re at the mall! You’ll love it! There’s food and clothing and perfume and toys and-“

“Pinky, what exactly is the purpose of a mall?” Brain asked. Pinky had been rather unclear on that. Mostly he’d just been gushing about all the fun things they could do.

“To do fun fun silly-willy things with your friends and look at stuff you can never afford on a lab mouse’s salary, of course!” Pinky replied.

The signal to cross finally appeared, and Pinky skipped merrily across the white strip, nimbly avoiding getting trampled by several humans walking in the opposite direction. Brain walked at a normal pace, keeping his tail close to his body. He didn’t trust the distracted humans to watch where they were going, especially since their handheld devices seemed to hold more importance than avoiding getting run over heavy wheels.

As Brain stepped onto the sidewalk, an odd texture struck him on the head, knocking his sunglasses askew. Several drops of a lukewarm liquid splashing onto his fur. It didn’t hurt, but it was still an unpleasant surprise. The human next to him didn’t notice. He was too busy yelling into his device and gesturing wildly, then stomped off in a huff. He almost trampled Pinky, who barely managed to pull his tail out of the way before the man’s large foot crushed it.

“Well, he was certainly rude. He littered and didn’t say sorry for dropping the cup on your head!” Pinky complained as he helped Brain to his feet, his blue eyes narrowed at the man’s back as he disappeared into the crowd. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted in the man’s general direction. “Hey, litterbug! I bet your mom’s older than you! Narf!”

He gave a firm nod, satisfied with his ludicrous and underwhelming insult.

A furious Pinky. That was an interesting concept, yet anger and Pinky somehow remained mutually exclusive in Brain’s mind.

“Not to worry, Pinky,” Brain said, wiping the liquid away from the base of his antennae. He returned his sunglasses to the proper position. “He’s long gone. I’ve suffered worse.”

Pinky took a deep breath, then took a sniff of the cup’s opening and wrinkled his nose. “Maybe he wouldn’t be so grumpy or litterbuggy if he put more sugar in his cappuccino,” he sighed. “Styrofoam too. Can’t recycle that.”

Dragging the cup over to a nearby garbage can, Pinky hoisted it over his head and trying to stick it through the hole on top. The cup was barely over the rim, Pinky clinging to the metal with one hand and scrabbling for a foothold. He wasn’t giving up without a fight, so Brain grabbed Pinky’s ankles to give him the extra boost needed to push the cup in.

Pinky climbed down once he heard the dull thud from inside the can. “Thanks,” he said gratefully, though he still seemed unusually morose.

Brain walked into a section lined with vegetation and dirt that separated the street from the mall. But Pinky didn’t follow. He was looking into the direction they came from. “The cup’s in the proper place now. Let’s go, Pinky.”

Instead of following Brain, Pinky moved to the curbside, looking down at his feet. Really. Pinky came to the mall for a purpose, however inane it was. He needed to commit to that goal.

Brain growled in frustration, grasping his wayward companion’s wrist and pulling him in the mall’s direction. Pinky stumbled, but hardly budged otherwise. “Quit being stubborn, Pinky. The sun will burn out before you twitch a finger at this rate.”

“But the rest of it…“ Pinky whimpered, pointing to the street.

The road was filled with cups like the one Pinky had just thrown away. Filthy, damp, and unreadable papers lined the curb. A plastic bag tumbled in the wind. There were even a few objects that might’ve been clothing at one point.

Some people passed them by without a care in the world, others clicked their tongue at the mess but hurried on their way. Two people on the other side of the intersection were clothed in white from head to toe, picking away at the garbage with long sticks and depositing them into large bags.

From the sheer amount of garbage that lined the streets, Brain thought it was a futile effort on their part.

This was one of Terra’s downsides. Its inhabitants were destroying the very planet they lived on. It was one of the few observations the Selenian scientists were accurate about.

Pinky reached for a mass of papers, a revolting yellowish-green grime covering its surface, but Brain pulled him back before he could touch it.

“Don’t touch that with your bare hands, Pinky,” Brain scolded. “It’s unsanitary.”

Pinky pouted. Now obstinance. He shifted moods rather quickly, didn’t he? It was baffling.

“We gotta take care of Mother Earth, Brain!” Pinky protested as Brain dragged him into the vegetation. “Or there won’t be any pretty flowers to sniff and the acorn and pinecone elves won’t ever set aside their differences to sign that peace treaty!”

“The databank contained many details regarding the pollution of Terra, Pinky,” Brain admitted. “So I’m aware of the issue. But cleaning this one street would take time we can’t spare. You’re being sidetracked from your goal, and I can’t achieve my own objectives either.”

“Wait…” Pinky murmured. “You’re gonna rule soon, aren’t you? So you can definitely protect the world! That’s wonderful, Brain! I know you can do it!”

The sudden shift in mood caught Brain off-guard.

I can? Brain almost said, but the hope shining in Pinky’s eyes quelled that uncertain response. There was nothing but sincere admiration in that pool of blue, a massive surge of electrons flowing from Pinky’s chest into Brain’s antennae.

He would dare describe the electrons as a positive charge. How? Electrons were supposed to be negative! What kind of anomaly did he have the terrifying pleasure of knowing?

Brain cleared his throat, focusing on the enormous sprawling complex in front of them. Pinky’s blind faith was off-putting, and it was much easier to disregard it. “Of course. I will have unquestionable power in the near-future. Solving these issues will be easier than calibrating an auto-navigation interface.”

Pinky blinked.

“And…I’ll oversee those peace treaty negotiations between the elves.”

Pinky brightened immediately. “Thank you, Brain! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Long arms snagged Brain and lifted him off the ground in an enormous hug. Brain’s feet kicked out, but the warmth Pinky emitted had the strangest subduing effect. Brain’s antennae weren’t obstructed either, just swept back. Apparently, Pinky learned from last time.

Brain’s chest was oddly warm. Or maybe it was Pinky’s. It was hard to know for certain.

“Your orbs are so glowy,” Pinky said in awe.

And they weren’t achieving anything from this display of sentimentality! With some difficulty, Brain reclaimed his right arm and bopped Pinky on top of his empty noggin.

Pinky immediately let go, stumbling around dizzily and startling a nearby sparrow with his loud giggles. Brain landed on the base of his tail, a brief painful twinge travelling up his spine. In hindsight, he didn’t plan that well. At least there wasn’t another kink.

“That was jolly fun, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed upon recovery.

If he ever had the spare time, he was definitely researching the differences between actual Terran phrases and Pinky-isms.

“I’m sure,” Brain sighed, though he wasn’t sure and never would be, but Pinky didn’t need to know that.

They walked into a large, multi-level structure that Pinky called a ‘parking garage’, which housed a large amount of dormant vehicles. It was similar to the traffic they’d passed earlier, but the drivers were elsewhere. They were packed close, almost touching, and Brain wondered how anyone could possibly get in or out in these tight quarters.

Another few inches closer and the drivers would be completely trapped. That idea had potential.

Pinky hopped onto each yellow marking on the ground, arms flailing as he tried to avoid the gray areas in between. Brain followed at a more sedate pace. Then Pinky gasped and straightened up just as he landed on the last yellow marking before the mall entrance, Brain nearly bumping into him.

“Look, Brain! Somebody’s dropped their wallet!” Pinky gasped, hurrying over to a black object lying against the curb. He undid the zipper and glanced inside. “Egad, that’s a lot of money!”

Brain peeked inside. A wad of folded green paper was tucked inside one of the pockets. “A currency-based economy? Selene and its colonies utilized barter systems,” he said.

Which could be an issue. Brain had originally planned to trade the Conquistador’s spare parts for useful items.

“Oh no, Brain. Currants would get squished in your pants. Then you’d need a really strong stain remover,” Pinky replied. “Besides, this man’s very lucky he can buy so many hats! That’s what I’d do if I had any money!”

He must’ve misheard that. Surely.

“Pinky, tell me you brought the monetary value required for your hat.”

Pinky dug his hand into a fur pocket, but only came out with a piece of fluff. “Hmmm, well, I have some dryer lint! Only money I have is Nicholas the Nickel, and he’s cleaning the cage with—oh.” His ears and tail fell limp under Brain’s glare.

Brain kicked a loose pebble, and it ricocheted harshly off the base of a metal sign. Of all the native species he could’ve chosen for a guide, it just had to be the one individual whose head was denser than a neutron star.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky murmured. “I’m not very good at this goal-setting thing, am I?”

He said ‘sorry’ a lot for placation’s sake. But no matter the context, he always sounded sincere. Brain pushed his sunglasses up to his forehead and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to be irate with Pinky anymore.

“You require more practice,” Brain replied. He glanced at the strange, valuable green papers in the wallet. Funny how they came across the commodity needed at this moment. “However, it’s most fortunate that we should stumble on the item required in trade for your hat.”

The money was all in 20s and 50s, and while Brain was unfamiliar with this currency, he figured there would be enough to spare. He took the money out of the pocket and tucked it under his arm. Then he flipped his sunglasses down, but Pinky tugged the money out of his grip before he could walk off.

“No, Brain! That’s stealing!” Pinky protested, slipping the money back into the wallet. “This rightfully belongs to a Mr. Joe Lamont! We have to take this wallet to Lost and Found now!”

Pinky’s stubborn side came out randomly, it seemed.

“The money is here at your convenience, Pinky. You have to use every asset possible to achieve your goal,” Brain said.

“What if Mr. Lamont needs this?” Pinky tapped a card that displayed a human’s photo along with other identifying information. Then he pointed to a small picture of a man and woman. “What if he needs this for anniversary or birthday presents, or else his wife won’t be happy and he’ll be sad cause he left his wallet somewhere and what if someone picks it up and won’t give it back? Cause that’s just mean!”

“Then he should’ve been more careful with such a valuable item,” Brain snapped. Pinky made a noise of disbelief and turned his back to Brain. “So take one or two of the papers for yourself and give the rest back.”

While he’d prefer to keep the entire wallet for future use, it seemed he would just have to compromise with Pinky.

“He won’t notice.”

“NARF!” Pinky retorted.

His assumption was wrong. Pinky wouldn’t accept a compromise either. It was a losing battle, and as much as hated conceding defeat, no other options presented themselves.

“Fine! Do what makes you happy! See if I care!” Brain shouted at Pinky’s back.

He was only presenting the most logical solution. It wasn’t his fault this idiot wasn’t taking the opportunity! And none of this was helping him find Snowball or conquer Terra either!

“Returning the wallet would make me happy, Brain,” Pinky said with conviction.

“Why?” Brain asked. This wasn’t the type of goal-setting he’d pictured at all.

“It feels right.”

Tasks should be performed with efficiency in mind, not for emotion’s sake. But it seemed that keeping Pinky in his normal euphoric state would be in Brain’s best interest for now.

“Alright, let’s return that wallet. Neither you nor I shall use any of the money for personal reasons. We’re heading to the…Lost and Found?” Brain said reluctantly. He took a deep breath, reminding himself to keep Pinky in a good mood. “You lead the way. I’m not familiar with this locale.”

Pinky faced Brain, and the bright smile was back. Brain looked away. He wasn’t doing this out of altruism, and Pinky needed to learn that.

“Yup, it’s like the Island of Misfit Toys, but for car keys, jackets, and other things too!” Pinky exclaimed, hoisting the wallet above his head. “And now it’s for Mr. Lamont’s wallet!”

The satellite images never pinpointed a geographical location named the Island of Misfit Toys. Probably situated next to a more prominent landmass then.

“Welcome to Macy’s, Brain!” Pinky cheered as they entered a pristine white building. “For all your expensive brand clothing and Thanksgiving Day needs!”

The store was brightly lit, so Brain kept his sunglasses down. Numerous bottles of varying colors were on display. Women shouted from behind their counters, urging passersby to purchase their products. Most people walked by quickly, looking rather uncomfortable and twitchy until they were far from the display area. Only two women seemed interested at all, spraying misty clouds on tiny strips of paper and sniffing them curiously.

“What are they doing?” Brain whispered as he shuffled closer to Pinky for protection’s sake. There was a predatory gleam in those workers’ eyes, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Even Pinky with his near-perpetual cheer seemed uncomfortable, his fingers anxiously drumming against the wallet. “Poit. Selling perfume. All sorts of lovely scents, but this is definitely why online shopping is more popular these days.”

Before Brain could respond, one of the workers suddenly rushed towards them with a manic smile that showed way too many teeth.

“Hi, you wanna buy some perfume buy one and ya get another half price ‘til May!” she shrieked. Without giving them a chance to respond, she sprayed perfume directly in their faces.

Pink mist engulfed them and obstructed their vision. A pungent scent clogged Brain’s nose, trickling its way down his throat, and he let out a hacking cough to expel it. Pinky’s wheeze suddenly turned into a yelp, and by the time the mist cleared, the woman was walking away with the wallet in hand.

Pinky clung to the wallet desperately, his legs kicking out as he was hoisted into the air. “Please, miss! Brain and I—ehem—Brain and I need to give this wallet to Lost and Found so Mr. Lamont can buy his wife nice presents!”

“Oh, it’s a sizeable wallet you’ve got there too!” the woman exclaimed. Brain found her pitch highly grating. “Let’s see, with money like that you can get lilac, honeysuckle, eau de escargot, a perfume that smells like wet goat hair sponsored by Gwenyth Paltrow-“

“I’m sure they smell lovely, but-“

“Very lovely indeed!” the woman spoke over Pinky, who could only dangle helplessly.

Brain gritted his teeth and hurried after them, shaking off his earlier disorientation. When she stopped to jabber about perfume again, he slammed his tail onto her bare ankle and administered a quick shock. Startled, she dropped Pinky the wallet. Brain darted between her sandals just in time to catch Pinky, who clutched the wallet to his chest, slightly dizzy from his sudden fall.

The perfume bottle was aimed in their direction again.

Brain took off with Pinky in his arms, running as fast as he could when those dreaded sandals got too close for comfort. He allowed Pinky to safekeep the wallet, since he was already so protective of it.

“Relentless scrik!” Brain panted as the woman hurled various sales pitches behind them. Pinky wasn’t heavy, but the wallet was a different story. And Pinky made it look so simple!

Well, Pinky was simple in general. Perhaps it was a distributive effect.

“Brain, go into the carpeted area!” Pinky shouted. “She can’t follow us out of her department!”

Deciding to trust Pinky’s word, Brain ran straight onto the carpet, barely dodging someone’s shoe in time, and his foot caught on the raised border between the carpet and tile. He fell onto his face, one of the sunglasses’ handles digging into his fur on impact. Pinky and the wallet tumbled across the floor, coming to a stop a short distance away.

As Pinky predicted, the woman stopped chasing them.

“Annnnd there goes my bonus,” she muttered dejectedly. She slammed the perfume bottle onto a nearby counter, startling a sleepy coworker who toppled off her chair in surprise and plastered on a fake smile for a passing customer. He glanced at her briefly and walked away with a grimace.

“Sooo…welcome to Macy’s?” Pinky laughed nervously. “On the bright side, we smell like radish roses now!”

Brain threw a button at him.

o-o-o-o-o

They kept to the corners after that fiasco, hoping to avoid drawing attention to a moving wallet. Pinky marveled at the various styles advertised by a human-like object he called a ‘Manny Kin’. He prattled on about the models and clothing, and Brain tuned him out to better observe the humans.

The younger ones appeared restless and bored out of their minds. The adults often stopped to admire an article of clothing, checked the price, and shook their heads before moving onto the next item. Everyone was dressed in a far more casual style than the clothing on sale.

“Oh, here’s the mall center! It’s where all the real fun happens, Brain!” Pinky said, his tail wagging in excitement. “Plus, the Lost and Found is just beyond this store. We’ll make Mr. Lamont happy in no time!”

Instead of a back wall, there was a large, doorless opening that led out of the store. Pinky danced his way across the boundary with a cheerful goodbye to the Macy’s sign. As Brain stepped into the wide open space, he was astounded by the sheer scale of the mall center.

He’d expected a plain corridor that connected different sections, not a massive space with a roof that appeared to touch the sky. The population density was much higher than in Macy’s, humans loudly chatting among themselves, shouting at consumers to purchase wares, and swinging large bags from their arms.

There were two floors above their heads, connected to the ground by staircases and escalators. The escalators seemed by far the popular choice for people moving between floors. Brain felt dizzy just looking at that open space above them, and he decided to focus only straight ahead for now.

Dozens of smaller stores lined the walls. Most of them sold clothes like Macy’s, and Brain couldn’t fathom why humans needed so many stores just to sell clothes. A fresh, rich scent wafted through the air, and though it was much more pleasant than the perfume, it made him somewhat famished as well.

“Look, Brain! The cookie shop! Don’t they smell divine?” Pinky asked with a dreamy sigh. “They taste delicious too!”

“Another one of your foods?” Brain asked, though it fell on deaf ears. Pinky had gone over to the display case, practically drooling on it as he admired the cookies inside, the wallet leaning against his side.

Brain stood on the other side of the wallet, just in case anyone had any ideas about stealing it.

At first, Brain thought the cookies were classified by ingredient, but one of the groups was labelled ‘snickerdoodle’ and Brain was of the opinion that no sane planet in the universe would ever call anything by that strange moniker.

“Let’s be on our way, Pinky,” Brain said, because there wasn’t anything productive he could do while his Terran guide was staring longingly at cookies. “That wallet won’t return itself.”

“Okay, Brain…” Pinky said forlornly. His hands squeaked sadly against the glass, but before he could pick up the wallet, a woman came out from behind the counter, her dark hair tied back in a bun. She approached them with a napkin in one hand.

Brain grabbed Pinky’s hand and the wallet, tensing up in case he had to yank them away at a moment’s notice.

But the woman made no move to snatch the wallet. She only squatted next to them and held out the napkin, revealing two small pieces of cookies. “Free sample?” she asked. “They’re fresh out of the oven.”

“Thanks so much...Laura!” Pinky read the name tag pinned to her shirt, then snatched up one of the pieces and shoved it into his mouth. Crumbs stained his muzzle. “Narrrrf! That was dee-lish!”

Cautiously, Brain took the second piece and bit into it. Sweetness flooded his taste buds, and he quickly finished his portion, the cookie melting in his mouth. If anything, Pinky had understated how delicious it tasted.

“It’s exquisite,” he said to Laura, who beamed right back.

“Glad you enjoyed it!” Laura said. She provided them with wet napkins so they could rid themselves of the remaining crumbs, and they left the cookie shop behind.

“She was so nice, Brain!” Pinky said, safeguarding the wallet once again. “Sugar cookies are my favorites! Well, after chocolate chip and macadamia and snickerdoodle-“

Brain nodded. “She didn’t steal anything while our guard was down. Count that in your definition of ‘nice’.”

Thankfully, they didn’t have to walk far to get to the Lost and Found. Brain hoped to put this wallet nonsense behind them in the next half hour. They had objectives to fulfill.

The Lost and Found was in a hallway that led to an exit from the mall, and Brain made a mental note of its location. He refused to set foot in that Macy’s ever again.

A podium was situated in front of the doors, and the worker behind it nervously held out a box to an irate man in a formal suit similar to the merchandise at Macy’s. He snatched the box and threw several articles of clothing and various lost items to the ground.

Pinky lifted the wallet above his head, his feet tapping in excitement. “That’s the man! He looks exactly like his pictures!”

Mr. Lamont was practically tearing the box apart without any regard for the other lost belongings, and the worker’s eyes were wide with fear. That didn’t bode well. Brain grabbed Pinky’s tail, but it slipped out of his grasp. The idiot had no sense of impending danger and walked right up to the belligerent man.

“You’re hiding it, aren’t you?” Mr. Lamont snarled, slamming his hand against the podium. The worker cowered behind his chair. “Hand over my wallet this instant, or you’ll be out of a job.”

The worker paled.

Brain rushed over to try and pull Pinky back. Mr. Lamont hadn’t noticed them yet. There was still a chance they could slip the wallet among the other items and leave without detection.

“Hi, Mr. Lamont! You dropped your wallet in the parking garage!” Pinky greeted. “Me and my friend here were just taking it to Lost and Found, and what a coinkydink we’d find you here too! Isn’t that great?”

Pinky held the wallet up expectantly, that silly smile never leaving his face.

Mr. Lamont snatched the wallet out of Pinky’s hands, wrinkling his nose haughtily.

“You’re welcome!” Pinky chirped, then happily turned to Brain. “We did it!”

Pinky had done most of the work, but if he wanted to share credit, Brain chose not to correct him. “Yes. Now we may return to what we originally-“

Mr. Lamont’s foot slammed into Pinky’s side, too fast for Brain to shout a warning. Pinky yelped as he was thrown into a wall. There he laid in a crumpled heap, hands wrapped around his abdomen for protection.

“How much did you take, thief?” Mr. Lamont spat. He cast a looming shadow over Pinky, who whimpered in pain, tears forming in pitiful blue eyes.

It was such a foreign appearance for the idiotic but kindhearted mouse.

A strange fury overtook Brain, one that was much different from dealing with troublesome ships, arguing with Snowball, or frustration with his current predicament. It brewed in the depth of his stomach and spread through the rest of his body.

Brain whipped off his sunglasses, placing himself firmly between Pinky and the ungrateful reprobate.

“He stole nothing from you,” Brain growled. “Count the money yourself, you repugnant excuse of an organism, unless your mind has degraded far beyond the ability to perform simple arithmetic.”

“And just who do you think you are?” Mr. Lamont sneered.

Brain crossed his arms proudly. He refused to cower before the Terran. “A genetically enhanced Selenian mos seeking dominion over your world.”

And when all was said and done, Mr. Lamont would be bowing down to him.

But that glorious fantasy was cut short. Brain saw the black sole of a shoe, there was a forceful pressure against his body. His limbs refused to cooperate. He couldn’t reach his tail for self-defense, his heart pumping faster and faster until it couldn’t compensate for the lack of electrons anymore-

The crushing pressure vanished.

Faraway voices blended together, one angry, one meek, and one familiar.

Someone lifted his head, a gentle hand moving his antennae aside, then slowly pushed his head down until he rested against soft fabric. Brain’s fingers twitched. His full mobility would take several minutes to return, but this wasn’t a terrible position to wait it out.

A drop of moisture fell on his face, followed by several more.

Rain?

He’d heard of that particular climate pattern, but had never seen it in action before.

Brain opened his eyes, craning his neck to see this curious phenomenon. But he was met with Pinky’s tearful gaze instead.

He’d learned much of Terran culture during this expedition, but was it really worth all these ridiculous emotions?

“Stop dampening my fur with your lacrimal ducts, Pinky,” Brain said, his voice hoarse.

Pinky managed a giggle, inanity that was far more preferable to all this crying. “Sorry, Brain. I don’t have any milk. But are you okay? P-p-poit.”

“I’ll need several minutes to recuperate. Then I’ll be ready.” Brain felt his cheeks heat up from the proximity. Mobility returned to his right leg, and he couldn’t wait for this mortifying close contact to be over. “Where’s Mr. Lamont?”

Pinky scowled at the name, an expression that looked odd on him, but not wholly unwelcome. “Mr. Lameany called you vermin and left with his wallet. But you’re not vermin, Brain! You’re my best friend!”

A childish insult. He’d have to teach Pinky about using more sophisticated language.

“And you…are Pinky,” he sighed, patting Pinky’s arm.

Pinky smiled brightly. At least Brain could strive towards one of his objectives. They weren’t quite through with business at the mall though. He’d have to tough it out.

But for now, he settled back against Pinky, who happily taught him the age-old Terran method of settling arguments known as rock-paper-scissors.

AN: FINISHED AT LAST.

I am not making stuff up as I write I totally had a plan for this fic y’all can’t prove nothing.

Brain gets to learn good and bad stuff about Terra, poor Pinky gets hurt. These mice can’t even go the mall without something happening, can they?

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #patb nova

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jabbajambler · 4 years ago

Text

Human

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 1,909

*GIF NOT MINE*

"Mando, can we talk?"

I mumbled loud enough for him to hear me. We weren't too far from the Ugnaught's house, but there were words I could not leave unsaid any longer.

I could see him turn to look at me, shrugging his shoulders. I suppose that was his way of saying go ahead.

"I mean, like, stop and talk."

"Can it wait until-" He grumbled.

"No, it can't!" I snapped, stopping dead in my tracks. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said it like that."

He sighed and turned around, standing in front of me with his head tilted. I looked into the dark glass of the helmet and there was a soft warmth within the chilling visor. A cloud of mystery surrounded him and everything he did. He was always so hot and cold, I never knew which side of him I would get.

"I'm so sorry." I paused to see if he had anything to say, but he remained completely silent. "You know, for attacking you, tying you up, forcing you to give me your bounty, and treating you like shit..."

I shifted my gaze towards the ground, beginning to rock on my feet. It wasn't the more apologetic thing to say, but I truly was sorry. My words were harsh, but the sincerity was there.

"It's okay."

"That's it?"

My eyes snapped back up to his helmet, completely bewildered by his lack of response. I couldn't tell if he didn't care or if he couldn't think of anything else to say.

He only shrugged once again and looked off in the distance, barely seeing the Ugnaught's house. I guess he truly was a man of very few words.

"We should get going before the sun sets."

I nodded and looked towards the child's pod. He cooed and stretched out his arms, blinking his big brown eyes. My heart jumped at the sight and couldn't stop myself from picking him up and cradling him in my arms.

I could sense Mando's eyes watching me the entire way, but I couldn't bring myself to look back at him.

The Ugnaught stood up on the tower next to his home, fixing the circuit board. Sparks were flying from his soldering iron and reflecting off his goggles. The sun had nearly set and the flickering of the light clashed beautifully with the blue sky.

"I thought you two were dead."

He turned around and looked down at us while we stared up at him in silence. With a shake of his head an exasperated sigh, he climbed down to join us on the ground.

"This is what was causing all the fuss?"

He pointed down to the little alien that was chasing around a small frog. His innocence amazed me. I still couldn't believe this little kid was fifty years old.

Mando fiddled with his vambrace as small electric currents continued to go through it. "I think it's a child." He mumbled.

"It is better to deliver it alive then."

Up until now I had completely forgotten about the fact that we had to turn this child over to someone. I hadn't met the client. I sort of just stole the mission without thinking about anything else.

"Our ship has been destroyed. We're trapped here." I crossed my arms, watching the alien as he walked away. "We need your help."

"Stripped. Not destroyed. The Jawas steal. They don't destroy." He handed Mando a small screwdriver to fix his haywire armor.

"Sure as hell looked destroyed from where I stood." I shrugged and returned to watching the child run after the amphibian, giggling as it chased it. I couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"They're protected by their crawling fortress. There's no way to recover the parts." Mando stated, messing with the wiring.

"You can trade."

I laughed. "Trade with the Jawas? Are you nuts or just plain stupid?"

Mando looked over at me with a disappointed sigh. "Myrah..." He whispered like it was a warning.

"I will take you to them... I have spoken." The Ugnaught nodded before leaving for his home.

I rolled my eyes and glanced back at the child. "Hey!"

Mando turned to see what the fuss was about. He spotted the child as well, standing innocently with half of the frog in its mouth.

"Spit that out!"

The child, of course, didn't listen, and proceeded to swallow the frog whole. He smiled up at us, resulting in a groan from Mando.

I chuckled and looked over at him, but he just kept watching the child. I couldn't blame him, it was quite possibly the cutest thing I had ever seen. We both had grown strangely attached to it since we found it.

He turned to look at me while I was lost in my own world. This time, I was too slow to hide the small smile that formed when I was watching the two of them. He kept looking at me, both of us just staring at one another in complete blissful silence.

"It's rude to stare." He joked. I could practically hear the grin in his words.

"I can't help it."

I meant it as an innocent joke, only continuing the playful banter we formed this week, but something had changed. We were far from being friends, but we no longer hated each other. I knew he could feel the change too. Suddenly I was back in his head, but there was a warmth to it now.

It wasn't so cold and lonely anymore.

He was the first to break the eye contact, turning and helping pack the small trailer the Ugnaught had prepared for the journey. I stayed back for a few moments, smiling to myself. Something was changing, something much greater than a small friendship. This was otherworldly and it was weird, but I loved it.

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

I could feel someone shaking me as I slowly came to my senses. At some point during the trip, I must've fallen asleep again. I didn't really mind all the sleep I was getting considering we had encountered quite a lot since we've been here.

I opened my eyes to find a bright, shiny helmet above me, softly saying something about how I needed to 'wake up.'

"I can't keep waking you up."

"Oh, it's not that bad." I sat up and stretched my arms, yawning. "I'm just glad you didn't toss me around this time."

He shook his head and pointed towards the Jawa's fortress. The trip was definitely much shorter when you fall asleep for over half of it.

The Jawas shouted and pointed their guns at us. None of them were particularly happy to see us again.

"Greetings!" The Ugnaught replied.

Mando was sitting on a stool, holding his rifle tight in his hands. I moved my hand towards my blaster, becoming more awake and more on edge the closer we got to them.

"They really don't like you guys for some reason."

I nodded towards Mando with a small smirk. "He did disintegrate a few of them...Then chased them."

"We chased them." Mando tried to defend himself, looking between the Ugnaught and me.

"You need to drop your guns."

Mando stiffened, his grip tightening on the gun. "I'm a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion."

The Ugnaught shrugged. "Then you are not getting your parts back."

"Fine." We both groaned and set our weapons on the trailer.

Mando and the Ugnaught hopped onto the ground, ready to walk towards the group of Jawas. I sighed loudly enough to catch both of their attention, a wide grin spreading across my face as I sat on the edge of the trailer.

I held both of my hands out in front of me and looked over at Mando, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, but walked over and helped me down regardless.

The Ugnaught looked at us suspiciously and with a sight grin before he turned his attention to the muttering Jawas.

"And the blaster."

Mando gave him a sharp look, one which the Ugnaught returned rather quickly. I leaned over and grabbed his blaster from its holster, tossing it on the trailer. That received a bewildered look from both of them, but I shrugged it off.

The Ugnaught waved us over and we all sat down in front of a large group of Jawas. He had been communicating with the group to come up with a trade, but it hadn't gone over very well.

"They will trade all the parts for the beskar."

I snorted and shook my head. "That's never gonna happen. They stole these parts."

"She's right. I'm not gonna trade anything. These are my parts." Mando spoke, clearly already riled up by the situation.

I chuckled."I'm glad you're finally agreeing with me."

The Jawa spoke again, something Mando did not seem to understand.

"They-they...belong...to me!" Mando gestured towards himself.

I couldn't help but giggle at his attempt to speak their language. The Jawas thought it was funny too as they all burst into laughter.

"You speak terrible Jawa. You sound like a Wookie." The Jawa joked.

"You understand this?" Mando activated the flame thrower within his vambrace, aiming it at the group of Jawas.

"NO!" Both the Ugnaught and I shouted.

I grabbed his wrist, looking up into his helmet. He deactivated the flames and looked at me with what came off as a rather soft expression. I tried to suppress my smile. I found the situation we were in to be quite comical.

"Easy there, Big Guy. No need to show off, okay?"

I slid my hand down to his, gently patting it before I pulled my hands away. I could see his fingers twitch and a small part of me wanted to reach back for his hand again, but I pushed that to the back of my mind.

"He is Mandalorian. He cannot give you his beskar armor." The Ugnaught replied to the Jawa.

The Jawa sat for a moment, thinking before pointing at the child. Mando and I turned to see a couple of Jawas gathering around it.

"Get away from it!" He snapped. He was clearly just as protective of the child as I was.

There was another moment before the Jawa pointed at me, muttering, "We will take the girl in exchange for your parts."

I growled. "I am not to be sold, you demon. Now get your finger out of my face before I snap it."

"There must be something else."

The Jawas huddled together as they spoke, glancing occasionally at the group. I wished that I could rip their beading red eyes right out of their skull, but that was just a little aggressive.

"How do you know-" Mando started, leaning over to whisper to me.

"My family taught me." I interrupted. "Jawas are a fairly common species on Tatooine and they said you need to know how to negotiate with them."

"Tatooine?"

Before I could respond, the Jawas broke from the huddle, approaching us once again.

"We will require The Egg. Bring us The Egg."

"The egg? What egg?" Mando looked over at me. We must have worn the same confused expression despite being unable to see his.

The Jawas began to shout "The Egg!" Over and over. Clearly celebrating something that Mando and I didn't understand.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #din djarin #din djarin x oc #dyn jarren #jedi #oc #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #babyyoda

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