#the others equally insane about these two strange creatures

[tessaxxscott]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Formula 1 RPF Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Esteban Ocon Characters: Pierre Gasly, Esteban Ocon Additional Tags: Angst, Goodbye Sex, kicked puppy pierre, nuclear fusion bomb esteban, these two are so strange, and so compelling, Post 2024 Season Summary:

This has happened before. Esteban decides Pierre is the human equivalent of battery acid, Pierre flays himself open to try to patch it up.

[little-pondhead]

Some fic because I love your au, Fenton is gender brainrot, and little baby dan cracks me up. Full disclosure, my only familiarity with DC is DP crossover fanfic, and a Batman movie I fell asleep during. (If I had a better grasp on the characters I would totally write more :(( i love interactions) also sorry for the weird spacing. Idk why tumblr did that

~~~~~~~~

There was an empty cardboard box on the table of the Justice League’s main conference room. Taped on the top flap, next to a doodle of Fenton’s logo, was a jump drive.

Heaving a sigh, Batman plugged it in and pulled up his screen on the projector. The drive, which was named “little baby dan’s evil playtime”, contained two files; WATCH_ME_FIRST.mp4 and its-a-secreeeet.pdf. He clicked on the video file, and immediately the projector filled with a blurry close-up of Fenton’s goggles.

After a moment of fiddling with the camera, Fenton stepped back, giving a cheery wave. His lab coat and goggles were a pastel pink, which was new. “Heeeeya, Bats! Whoever else is there! If you’re watching this, you probably weren’t there when I dropped the box off, aaand it’s probably empty.”

He clapped his hands together gleefully. “And Connie, if you’re there, this is payback for cussing around my daughter.” Batman was instantly relieved that Constantine wasn’t on base. Hopefully the situation wouldn’t require Constantine’s expertise. (Or any of the Justice League Dark. Fenton seemed determined to drive them all to an early grave with his casual refusal to acknowledge the supernatural air around him.)

“Now, as you’re all heroes, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the whole,” Fenton paused for a moment, as if searching for the proper words. “”You ate a burger on a Tuesday or something equally inane, and it kickstarted a series of events that led to you going insane and evil and murdering 95% of the Earth’s population and now you must fight your evil alternate self, because your time-controlling cryptid Peepaw said so,” shtick, so I’ll skip the backstory. Say hi to Dan!” Fenton grabbed the camera, and Batman quickly jotted down several notes about the concerning number of things the boy had just said.

The camera swiveled around to show Nightingale, holding a strange beast in a manner that reminded Batman of an “elongated cat meme” Nightwing had shown him when he was still a Robin. The creature bared a maw full of razor sharp fangs at the camera. Nightingale adjusted her grip to hold the creature’s paw and make it wave, which evoked a deep growl.

“Haha, he’d kill me if I did that. Dan likes Nightingale much more than he likes me.”

“Because the worst she has ever done is attempt to shoot me.”

The camera had moved, so Batman couldn’t visually confirm that the deep voice had come from the creature, but the voice didn’t match any of Fenton’s previously revealed companions. “Yeah yeah, her aim sucked back then.” Fenton gave the camera a toothy grin that was only slightly less unnerving than the creature’s. “Dan’s not technically me, he’s much more like Dani, actually, but the world would probably end again if we left him with his other... What did you call him?” Fenton glanced offscreen.

“Bane of my accursed existence.”

Fenton chucked. “The other half responsible for his existence.” Batman added more notes to his file. “So, yeah, Clocky left him with us for a bit to help along his rehab. But a certain psychologist-in-training I know says that repressing rage isn’t healthy, and even without a lot of his powers, he can wipe out most of a city in- what, an hour? We tested it. It was around an hour.”

Everyone present shared a look of deep concern. As if able to see their reaction, Fenton quickly held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry! Clocky reset it. Approximately zero people have died from Dan in this timeline.”

“Yet.” Came a furious rumble from off-screen.

“Yes, you’re very scary.” They heard Nightingale coo.

Fenton laughed. “Yeah, we need him- and all of you, -out of our hair for a bit while we concoct more evil plans, and you’re all the least likely to die to him, so you get to babysit! Thanks!”

He reached to shut off the camera before pausing and turning away. “Foley! Which of the furries is the one who really likes animals?”

“Man, do you realize how that sounds out of context?” Foley laughed. “I think Tim said it’s the little one. Damian?”

Fenton nodded and turned back to the camera. “Don’t let Damian try to adopt Dan. Or anyone. Dan will bite their hands off. I mean it!” To emphasize his point, he removed one of his hands.

Batman sighed and added “ability to remove limbs” to a list of Fenton’s powers.

“I’ll include a list of “tasks”” Fenton’s disembodied hand made finger quotes, “we gave Dan to keep him occupied. There’s some at the bottom for you guys. They’re mostly just blatant abuse of his powers for the sake of fun and science. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him mark things off the list and add notes on how it goes. Or you can do it. Or I can steal your cameras. Your choice.”

He thought for a second. “I think you’re supposed to leave, like, pizza money or something, but I don’t think you can get pizza delivered to space. Anyway, thanks for letting me blab your ears off while Dan’s probably committing war crimes for twelve minutes. For your sake, I hope he inherited my interest in space. Good luck! Thanks for babysitting!”

Waving with his still detached hand, Fenton ended the video. Batman closed it and opened the PDF as the few other members present murmured amongst themselves. Most of the pages were filled with a curling script Batman didn’t recognize. The fourth page had a huge, bolded header, reading JP TASKS.

The door opened and shut in half a second as the Flash burst in. “Superman!” The speedster wailed. “I can’t get this thing off of me!”

The Flash waved his arm around, sending small droplets of blood flying as he tried to dislodge the creature sinking his teeth into the speedster’s arm. Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his cowl as Superman quickly lent his super strength in attempt to pry the creature’s jaw open. Dan didn’t budge.

Well, he could certainly see the family resemblance been Fenton, Dani, and Dan. Shaking his head, he turned back to the list.

Task 1: Find Dan. He’s probably attacking someone.

He highlighted the text and crossed it out. This was going to be a long shift.

[Anon, this is me crying over the wonderful gift you have given me. You bastard.]

---

"Do you think Fenton's regeneration powers extend to his..." Green Lantern frowned, trying to remember the word the kid had used but coming up blank. "I dunno. But do you think if we cut off little Dan here, he'll heal back up with no problem?" He gestured helplessly to the scene in front of him. Flash was still screeching about the beast on his arm, and now Superman and Wonder Woman were trying to pry him off. Batman was standing to the side, silently bemoaning the lack of quiet. He just wanted one peaceful shift. Just one. Please.

"I'd like to see you try, hero. And I'm not little." Dan spoke, startling all of them. His grip on Flash's arm tightened, making the speedster squeal before releasing the man and spitting out a mouthful of his blood. Batman noticed that his mouth didn't move despite the clearly spoken words. In fact, when Dan closed his mouth, it was like he didn't have one at all.

"So you do speak!" Superman marveled.

"Of course I do. I am not unintelligent, unlike you lot."

Despite his pain, Flash still made sounds of protest that everyone promptly ignored.

Superman flushed. "I just wasn't sure. It was hard to tell in the video."

"Ah, yes. The video that the Fenton menace sent you. Was there a note for me in the flash drive?"

"Uh, no." In one of his less finer moments, Green Lantern stuttered over his words and moved in front of Batman, obviously lying. Dan merely growled and flew through both men, heading straight for the giant monitor. Batman barely suppressed a shiver. Density shifting? Might as well add it to the list. He could see Martian Manhunter, who was in the back of the room, tilt his head at the display.

Dan ignored the room as he used his entire body to manipulate the computer mouse and scrolled back up to the top of the page. Staring intently at the scribbles no one could make out, the heroes could do nothing but shoot each other nervous and confused glances. More than a few of them jumped when Dan chuckled deeply. Honestly, his tiny body was at complete odds with his baritone voice.

"Maybe rehab will be fun if he's letting me do this." Dan sneered, flashing their reflections a sharp fang. No one wanted to ask what exactly he was in rehab for. The little beast turned his gaze to Batman. "You are the one called Batman, who rules the cursed city, correct?" The dark hero nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. "Excellent. You will be my chaperone for now, just as Fenton decreed it. Good luck, mortal man. Pray, I do not destroy your home a second time."

Without any time to unpack that conversation, Dan promptly disappeared from view. Some blinking text caught his attention, and Batman scrolled back down to the English text, glancing at the next few items on the list.

Task 2: Do not let Dan read his portion of this letter until you have a way to track him. There is no containing him.

Task 3: Keep him with a chaperone at all times. (If you can)

Task 4: Do not let Dan back into Gotham unless you're fine with a sudden decrease in the clown population.

Task 5: Take him for a walk in Death Valley. He likes hunting lizards.

Task 6: Make sure he goes down for his 2pm nap every day.

Task 7: He'll ask for it, but do not give him any burgers for mealtime. It upsets his stomach.

Task 8: Dan gets ONE(1) sweet after dinner before brushing his teeth. Those green pop rocks Batman always carries will do fine; he likes those. :)

A sudden alarm blared from his wristwatch, making Batman tear his eyes away from the screen, indicating an emergency at Arkham. This time, Batman actually sighed out loud. There was more to the list, but right now, he really needed to find their new charge before he killed the Joker, from the sound of it.

[kenonade]

stella maris reading log #1

its about damn time i start noting down how i feel when i read what i read. hell yeah. hopefully this makes me a better writer.

spoilers not really about the plot (bc honestly is there even a plot in the sense of a plot) but more about the language below the cut woooooo

tldr: book cool. writing insane. wtf. wtf. wtf. head ouchie. 越级打怪的后果就是头晕脑转 (dizziness is the consequence of attempting to read beyond my level). ooga booga man talk abt english

reading stella maris is so interesting because im just sitting here wondering like. how the FUCK did mccarthy accumulate all this knowledge about a variety of very distinct fields. my brain hurts. this is so much information. im learning nothing and learning everything at the same time. how the man managed to learn all this stuff and how he managed to put it together like this puzzle me equally intensely. its one thing to acquire knowledge. its a whole other thing to convey it in language so dense with information but also character. like, not to be that guy, but when osc does his infodumps i think to myself okay old man lets get you to bed. every time alicia opens her mouth i confront my intellectual inferiority and contemplate the meaning of life because it is alicia talking.

not to mention what the FUCK alicia. if only you’d have KNOWN. EUGH. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT.

my head hurts. the reason why im writing instead of reading is because ive already reached my reading breaking point where my eyes glaze over and the words go in one and out the other. its only been two hours. difficult language i can handle fine, verbosity is fine, i inhaled the ender stuff and only took breaks when osc pissed me off, but stella maris is information overload in a way that i’ve never experienced before. im like, texting three separate people all the time. oh i should vet this w my math guy. i need to show this to my psych classmate. this has to go to my orthopedics bestie.

i started this book saw the page number and went oh sure. its half the length of the passenger. the style means that it’ll contain less words overall too. i should be able to finish this on a three hour hsr ride. WRONG. i CANT. it’s TOO DIFFICULT. im running into roadblocks very similar to what i felt when i read the passenger: dont know place/name/context/big word. except im finding stella maris to be even more difficult because unlike some nautical jargon or random place in the midwestern usa that i can just look up, i cant. i think its impossible to even begin to comprehend all this math.

that’s definitely part of the charm of stella maris. the format of audio transcripts creates a much more intimate connection between the characters and the reader. the target demographic of this novel, though niche, is definitely not as niche as to comprise only of genius mathematicians with a burning passion for music and a hatred of psychology. the reader might be a master in one of these fields, but alicia outsmarts them in it along with all others. viewed through this lens, the reader is the doctor. the reader is the one who converses with alicia, trying their best to piece together a mind that is so extraordinarily genius and extraordinarily tormented. it’s a position of emotional significance. the reader sits through these audio recordings because they want to understand alicia. and to understand alicia is to love her. (this is a certified when i truly understand my enemy i love him moment)

all of that sits in stark contrast to western’s narration in the passenger.

i wrote an entire paragraph but tumblr fucking ate it. im pissed. its ok. for love i’ll write it again.

western’s narration is detached. it’s impersonal. mccarthy’s clinical and direct use of language alienates the viewer and prevents the formation of any sincere rapport, allowing only mild sympathy for western’s continued suffering. the reader is merely an observer, piecing together the life of a strange, curious creature through inference and deduction. nor is the reader meant to empathize with him. he’s the one who chose to abandon alicia, the one reckless enough to chose race car driving over his degree, and therefore the one who shoulders alone the responsibility of alicia’s death—or so he thinks. in a sense, because western is comparatively lucid, the detached narration becomes almost a punishment for the guilt he’s assigned to himself. he’s not the one in the mental asylum, afterall.

its interesting to me how mccarthy presents this duo to the audience. i have many Thoughts on alicia’s sexuality and stuff but i should finish the book before i synthesize those thoughts. anyway. thanks for reading 👍

[cloudbattrolls]

In All I Am, Retrace Me

Jikiro Takami | Present Night | East Alternia

This drabble is preceded by Ready Set Go.

It hadn’t been much of a send-off.

He hadn’t really been in the mood for anything big and flashy, not with looming consequences staring him down like a storm front.

Akiote, Sanata and Kuusek had gathered in front of the estate, along with Jamie. Botani had been elsewhere, tending to some migratory birds. 

He’d wished someone could come with him, but Hanabi had been very firm that he would be taking enough of a risk with his own life. A living troll would be in far more danger.

God, it all sounded so insane still, despite the planning they’d done.

Jamie had prodded him in the belly after the staff had left - no surprises there - and told him he’d better bring back a souvenir as proof, or he was going to suspect this was a giant prank after all.

Jikiro had fired back that Jamie might as well try to prove he’d get over Velour while he was gone, if they were bullshitting each other, and a brief slapfight had ensued before Hanabi scolded the pair of them and nudged the two men apart. 

They’d exchanged grins, Jamie’s razor smile to Jikiro’s less sharp but equally as smug one, but a quiet inkling of fear wriggled into his heart; the worry that this would be the last time he ever saw his kismesis alive.

He kissed the cobalt suddenly, passionate yet not rough as so many of their kisses were. Jamie returned it, then broke away and remarked that if Jikiro was going to be sentimental he was going to leave.

The tealblood had flipped him off and promptly turned around, starting his miles-long hike to the place he had to reach to enter the demons’ land.

Why do I have to walk the whole way to the entrance? He’d asked Hanabi weeks ago, lying on one of his couches as she explained how he’d have to get there.

It is tradition, she’d explained. In ages past, we had only beasts of burden and our own feet. The journey to the entrance was part of the payment needed to enter. The experiences you have along the way will prepare you for what you will see on the other side.

Well, the walk was pretty so far, ginkgos and camellias scattered everywhere; he’d nearly reached the base of the mountain. He wasn’t sure what mystical experiences he was supposed to be having to prepare him for whatever magical hellscape awaited him.

He’d seen some birds and a few other trolls. That was it.

If anything it was time to stop for lunch. The foothills were close, and he’d need energy before he scaled them. 

Jikiro found a fairly even spot on the grassy ground and rolled out his picnic blanket, one he’d inherited from Himari that had dolphins printed on it. Himari loved dolphins, for some reason. Jikiro didn’t get it, but his interest in animals mostly lay in which ones could be used to make ink.

The tealblood took his basket out of his sylladex and set it down, taking out two sandwiches, a big bag of chips, and a container of salad. 

He set out his plate, silverware, and napkin and was just about to take a bite of a sandwich when he realized he was being watched.

By a small, strange-looking creature eyeing him intently, sitting on the edge of his blanket.

The animal had fur of a rich deep brown, with a small, hard white spot between its eyes that looked almost like bone. Unusually colored eyes, too - they reminded him of opals, or the iridescence of oil.

Its paws - no, its hooves - were black, and its tail was almost like a hoofbeast’s and a lizard’s combined: long and scaly, but with great lengths of darker brown hair coming off of it. 

Jikiro could feel the magic coming off of it, plain as the moonlight on his face.

He smiled, and tore off part of his sandwich - it was fresh tuna - offering it to the creature with a carefully outstretched hand. 

The thing sniffed at it…and snapped it up so quickly he almost lost a finger.

“Whoa there! Enthusiastic, huh?” Chuckled the midblood, starting to eat himself. “Guess I can’t blame you.” He said between bites. “Everyone knows what I’m like when I don’t get enough to eat. Can’t do anything with me.”

He swore the creature gave him a skeptical look, which he matched with an amused one of his own.

“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s a critic.” He said, good-humored. 

The animal finished quickly, barely leaving any crumbs, and looked at him expectantly as he chewed on his own sandwich. 

He sighed. “Really? I gotta eat too, you think I run on cotton candy and dreams?”

It merely tapped a hoof expectantly.

Jikiro reluctantly scooped out some chips into a bowl for it, and thought to pour it a small teacup of water as well. It went for both with enthusiasm, and he hoped that was the end of it as he ate his own food.

Except, once again, it looked at him with those colorful eyes and clearly expected more.

“Okay, seriously, enough.” He said, annoyed but trying to keep his time still somewhat neutral. “Look, I have to keep going into the mountains, then face a demon. I don’t mind sharing, but that’s what’s at stake here. I need to keep my strength up.”

It looked him up and down. With a swirl of light bright enough he shut his eyes, a rush of air came that signified something much bigger now stood across from him.

As he opened his eyes, Jikiro knew the beast that stood across from him, but only from paintings and carvings. This was a figure from Hanabi’s stories, passed down from the Inkblade herself.

He bowed his head in respect.

“Kirin.”

“Young Takami.” It said, voice cool but not disdainful. “It’s been a long time since one of your kind passed this way. Once I would have been greeted with bounteous offerings.”

“That’s all the bounty I got.” Said Jikiro bluntly. “I need the rest of my food for the trip back. I’d give you more if I could.”

It studied him, large deer-like ears flicking.

“You have good taste in food. Create a flavor you treasure, and if I am satisfied, you may pass.”

Jikiro thought. He’d already given it part of his meal…but what of dessert? 

He grinned, remembering the montblanc he’d worked on with Sanata for Viltau, back when they’d still been courting. The indigo had teased him with an indirect kiss, and he’d eaten a bunch of the cake in revenge.

The sweetest thing had been how much his love had enjoyed it, though, all teasing aside. 

The tealblood took out some ink - he needed to consume some himself, but it would also be a useful thing to enchant to hold the taste. Delicious chestnuts, baked meringue…he could imagine that night, see the delight on his matesprit’s face at the cake made to look like his mansion.

He closed his eyes and felt his magic flow; he didn’t need symbols for this.

He poured the memory of flavor into his ink, opening his eyes again, and felt it settle. He offered the small bottle of black liquid to the creature, reaching out as it was taken from him by telekinetic magic.

The kirin tilted the container so it could drink, and took a few mouthfuls, swallowing and considering.

It nodded.

“You shared this with someone you love, and it was beautifully made. You may continue.” 

“Thanks.” He said with a smile, drinking some ink down himself.

The creature turned and ran off, disappearing almost too quickly to see.

A short time later, Jikiro finished his meal and packed up his blanket and basket. With everything secure in his sylladex again, he kept onward. 

The wind picked up, flurrying around him, and despite how resistant he was to the cold now, the midblood still shivered. His hair threatened to come undone from its ponytail and he squinted, trying to avoid the flakes of snow now flying around him from getting into his eyes.

Snow? Where had that come from? The sky had been clear except for a few wispy clouds. Now it fell thickly, accumulating in drifts as he watched.

His teeth chattered, and he took out ink to draw a quick warmth spell on his skin before he froze, his finger dripping dark liquid that froze as it broke off.

A cold hand rested on his shoulder.

There was almost no weight to it, but the sheer freezing touch was almost painful - he knew that if it had touched his bare skin, he would have blisters, possibly even a frozen burn.

Jikiro knew better than to turn around. He stayed perfectly still. 

A billow of icy breath coated his hair and neck.

The ink maker often breathed and fidgeted out of habit, because he preferred to feel more alive, but now he quieted his whole body, becoming as solid as a stone.

After a minute (though it felt like an eternity), the hand lifted from his shoulder, though he knew he still mustn’t turn his head.

Some stories said yuki-onnas should never be looked at directly. Some stories also said they hated to be alone, that they liked to steal wrigglers…

He forced his cold body to move, his limbs to bend and push through the snow despite the ache. He dragged his heavy feet through the fluffy white flakes, feeling them pour into his shoes. He forced himself to ignore it, to kneel down and start packing snow together. His hands were basically numb, but he ignored it. He was dead. It wouldn’t do him any lasting harm.

His attempts were clumsy at first, and he dropped some snow, scattering it into the wind. Yet after a few false starts he grew accustomed to the cold around him and the cold of his body, regaining dexterity and molding the ice crystals into a small, roughly troll-like form. 

He took out ink once more and quickly drew before it froze. A simple symbol - one he’d had cause to practice with lately alongside his new apprentice.

An illusion. 

The snow troll took on the appearance of a real troll, a wriggler. 

He looked away from it, and pressed onwards. He gritted his teeth, hoping his offering would be accepted. 

He waded through what were now deep drifts, straining with all he had. He squinted against the cold gusts…

…and between one breath and another, it all vanished.

As if he’d never been cold at all.

No snow. No wind. He could see the moons again.

He breathed deeply, grateful, and said a quiet word of thanks for his freedom. 

Jikiro walked onward. The hills were right there - he’d start going up them in minutes, and then it wasn’t long until he’d find the entryway Hanabi had mentioned.

A terrible cry swept through the night. He went rigid.

Nue.

The cry came again, and a great dark cloud of smoke appeared overhead, then swept to the ground and coalesced into a creature - a monkey-headed tiger with a snake tail, and the faint patterns of…a tanuki.

He shivered, in a different way as he had from the cold.

The nue did not move. It was eerily still, only its penetrating gaze giving any hint it lived. 

Even as it spoke, its mouth barely moved, the words out of sync.

“I have no challenge for you, Takami. Only a warning. If you go this way, there is more than the demon waiting for you. You are watched. The eyeless face knows you, and it will never forget. Death is not always a shield as it is against phantoms.”

Jikiro frowned. The creature was very flat and to the point, no taunting or mocking. It regarded him a moment longer, then began to turn into a cloud again.

“What do you mean?” He finally managed to ask.

“It happened in the pines, Takami. That night you died.”

Then it fully became dark vapor again, and whirled away into the night.

Jikiro sighed. Goddamn omens. 

But he knew better than to ignore one personally delivered to him. He’d have to investigate this later.

The rest of the trek was almost suspiciously quiet. He saw a few trolls - some camping group - and waved to them. They waved back - mostly young trolls, lowbloods and an oliveblood. A deer lusus and a rabbit lusus chased each other playfully. He smiled. It was good to get reminded that life went on, no matter his worries.

Finally, he reached the shrine. Well. It wasn’t a shrine trolls had made. It was a place of scattered stones, of maples and sugarplums, but anyone with the slightest magical sensitivity could feel the buzz of its power. 

He approached the three trees in the center. He wasn’t even out of breath, he realized uncomfortably. 

He should be…but of course, he didn’t really have to breathe. He’d rather act alive. Yet his body didn’t seem to want to obey him.

The ink maker drew in a deep one anyway, to steady himself. No matter what waited for him, he didn’t have a choice.

He closed his eyes, and stepped through the arch made by the the intersecting branches.

He opened them to a dark, warped land. Trees grew in twisted shapes, and no stars hung in the sky. There was only one dim, ruddy moon. No animals rustled, no wind blew. The air was dank, smelling somewhat of rot, of dust and forgotten places.

It was too quiet. Far too quiet. Where were the demons Hanabi had warned him about?

Why was the ground covered in thick, dark swaths of…something?

He kept walking, trying not to think of how time would be passing much faster back on Alternia. 

He felt traces of magic. Magic that felt like…almost like his, but different. A Takami’s. How could that be?

The dark swaths were some sort of dried liquid, he saw as his eyes adjusted. Ink? Okay, he guessed that made sense. But why so much of it?

Where had all the demons gone? He took out his ink again, ready to draw, but he saw nothing.

Then - finally, a troll-like figure in the distance.

He grinned in relief. Even if it was just a demon, at least it was something.

The figure didn’t move as he approached, and he realized it faced away from him. He felt…he felt death from it, yet not the same kind as his. This was no undead. 

This was a corpse, somehow upright and not decayed, its long gray hair streaked with white. One of its large, pointed horns had a crack in it, in a way that seemed almost familiar to the tealblood.

Its clothing was faded and tattered, clearly very old. It had obviously been here a long time.

He sighed. Great. Back to square one.

The ink stains began to move, writhing on the ground, and Jikiro swore in alarm as they ripped themselves up and arced through the air, all heading toward - the body. 

What?

Yet it was unmistakable as the ever-familiar scent of ink filled the air, almost choking, and the ground became clear as all the dark dried substance became liquid again and rushed to somehow be absorbed and contained by the dead thing before him.

A pause. A moment of silence, tense as the man who waited, ready to defend himself at a moment’s notice.

The corpse turned its head all the way around, with a terrible squelching, cracking noise.

Jikiro’s undead heart missed a beat.

He beheld a face he’d seen a thousand times before, in history books or murals, in a statue, in paintings, carved into rock. A face that had been nearly as familiar as his own, a constant companion throughout his whole life.

Jikiro stared into the filmy teal eyes of the Inkblade, Tsuaki Takami.

[pennzance]

Ghostbusters: Port Huron (Episode 30)

Episode 30: Ithaqua

Eric, Jeremy, Amber and Bryan jogged through the snow to the edge of the Boardwalk. None of them were certain what to expect, but they knew they’d face it together. The dark shape in the snowstorm loomed over them, and they could hear the water of the St. Lawrence River crash around its legs.

“He’s big,” Amber commented dryly.

“He’s hunched over,” Jeremy noted.

“Hell, even Bryan could hit this guy,” Eric grinned.

“Here’s hoping,” Bryan said. “Everyone ready?”

Three Proton Packs answered his question as the thrummed to life. He smiled and activated his own. “Remember,” he said, “don’t look it in the eyes, and crossing the streams is absolutely prohibited.”

“Left arm,” Amber called out, opening fire into the gloom.

“Right leg!” Eric shouted before following suit.

“Headshot!” Jeremy grinned, throwing his own beam.

“Center mass then,” Bryan shrugged, firing as well.

The shape recoiled as the beams struck it, and a long-fingered hand the size of a sedan came sailing out of the snow, slamming down on the Boardwalk and crushing the railing and concrete like Styrofoam. Sickly pink flesh under stark white spikes of hair flexed and gripped as the shape leaned toward them and the head came into view.

In works of fiction, the description of a Great Old One can boil down to a kind of literary progressive insanity. Words and imagery are used to conjure the idea of terrifying, unknowable cosmic entities and impress this upon the reader without actually committing to details in any concrete way so as to let the reader’s imagination run wild. After all, YOU are the best judge of what YOU find strange, disturbing, or terrifying.

In the flesh, however, Ithaqua’s balding head of mottled pink skin had two brightly burning yellow orbs looking out of eye sockets, a sunken nose almost fifteen feet tall in and of itself, and a gaping maw that seemed to sink all the way through the throat and into the creature’s torso, creating a cave of flesh and teeth from which came a thunderous roar and a wind more bitter than any earthly cold a human being could hope to imagine.

The Ghostbusters turned their backs first to avoid eye contact and secondly to brace against the wind. “He is UGLY!” Eric shouted as they took off running as a unit, away from the bridges and the other hand of the Old One as it came down like a meteor where they had been standing, smashing the entire portion of the Boardwalk to dust.

Amber’s vision began to tunnel as she ran, pushing herself hard despite her injuries. She’d pushed through this before in the Air Force, and she wasn’t about to let it get the better of her now. Jeremy, equally banged up, was having a harder time, and Eric and Bryan turned to fire at Ithaqua again to give their teammates time to catch up. Their beams carved black lines into Ithaqua’s chest as the Old One shifted its weight in the river and swung at them again. “Down!” Bryan shouted, and they all dove for the ground as that disgusting hand swept just a hair’s length over them.

From the ground, Eric fired into Ithaqua’s outstretched hand, causing the alien god to recoil the limb. It moved with an odd slowness, but up close it was clear it was moving much faster than the Ghostbusters would be able to avoid for long.

They scattered as the other hand came down, this one driving a deep crater into the ground. “Dr. Stantz!” Bryan shouted into his radio, “Any day now!”

“We need more time!” Ray replied. “We’ve got Shantaks all over us!”

Ithaqua’s tremendous form loomed over the four of them again. “Oh shit!” Jeremy shouted as the creature screamed again, this time seemingly vomiting freezing sleet down on them. They tried to scream, but couldn’t even hear themselves over the downpour, soaking quickly through their thick coats and gloves in an unnatural way.

But another proton beam lanced out of the blizzard and struck Ithaqua in one of his bright eyes, and the staccato report of machinegun fire announced the arrival of the National Guard. Remy, standing on top of one of the rapidly approaching Humvees, tried to keep his beam steady on the Old One’s face, and the creature recoiled again, giving the team a chance to stand up and start moving again. The Humvee slide to a halt nearby and they ran for it, jumping onto the back and eric slapping the roof. “Go go go!” he shouted.

With frightening speed, Ithaqua was on top of them, one disgusting hand slamming down just behind them and causing the Humvee to jump. Remy fired again, catching the monster’s arm, but the other hand was already coming down in front of them. The Humvee’s driver tried valiantly to avoid it, but in the snow, there wasn’t enough traction on the tires. The windshield exploded and bodies went flying as the vehicle crashed into the Old One’s hand.

Eric was the first on his feet. “Ow,” he groaned, looking up and trying to determine where the next swipe would be coming from. Bryan managed to get his feet under him as well. “You okay?”

“I’m going to live, and I’m going to hate it,” Bryan responded.

“Where’s-“

The hand reached down from out of the storm and grabbed the Humvee in its entirety. The man in the driver’s seat screamed as he and his vehicle soared into the sky in its grip.

“Oh shit,” Eric squeaked.

“Remy?” Amber’s voice came, strained and tired. “Remy where are you?”

There was a cough. “Still alive, mon cheri.”

“Gross,” Jeremy grunted. He propped himself up as Bryan and Eric ran to his side. “Nope. I’m not standing up again.”

“You’ve got to, we need to move-“ Bryan said.

“Nope,” Jeremy cut him off. “I think I’d rather just bite it here if its all the same to you.”

“It isn’t.” Eric told him.

“Too bad,” the big man told him, holding his nuetrona wand in both hands. “Where’d big and ugly go?” There was another burst of machinegun fire somewhere in the distance and another of Itaqua’s soul-shaking screams. “Oh, good, the army’s here.”

“Dr. Stantz? Any progress?” Bryan tried on the radio again as Amber and Remy, supporting each other, joined the group.

There was a moment of silence before the radio responded, in Kelly’s voice “Dr. Stantz is currently getting fished out of the lake.”

“How is your end of it going, Kelly?”

“Hell if I know, you people don’t tell me anything!” There was a noise and a brief burst of static before Jason’s voice replaced Kelly’s. “The Shantaks are gone for now, but I think they’re going to be back. Mr. Kaye is on a boat with Dr. Stantz’s device.”

“Where’d he get a boat?” Eric asked.

“Hey, I helped build it too!” Jeremy whined simultaneously.

“Just a little bit longer,” Bryan nodded.

And then Ithaqua attacked again. Both long, gangly and powerful hands came down, each clutching a different vehicle and smashing it against the earth. Eric and Bryan fired with Jeremy joining in from the ground, but Ithaqua didn’t seem to care this time. It bent over them, bringing its face down to scream at them again.

“Eric!” Jeremy shouted, “catch!”

Where he had it, Eric wouldn’t have been able to tell you, but Jeremy threw him the Proton Gauntlet. Amber and Remy opened fire, still leaning against each other as Eric switched out the wand for the gauntlet. The great head of Ithaqua split its maw wide, wider than any creature of flesh and blood would be able to manage, and the storm bellowed out of its gaping jaws once more.

In the unworldly cold of the sleet and deafening noise of the scream, Eric brought the gauntlet online, glanced briefly upward, and lunged.

Ithaqua recoiled, its scream changing from one of rage to confusion and pain and… maybe even panic? Eric, now high above the world with a death grip on the Old One’s upper lip, or whatever passes for one in those circles, screamed his own vengeful, triumphant shout as Ithaqua thrashed wildly in the river.

Now above the worst of the storm, Eric had a moment of stillness where he saw everything. Mr. Kaye frantically steering his boat back toward shore, the floating device falling into the rift beneath the bridges, and the resulting flash of light, small at first but growing in intensity.

It was like the big bang in reverse. The snow, the Shantaks in the sky, Ithaqua itself began to be sucked into the rift, back through the Gate. Realizing what was happening, Eric let go of the Old One and plummeted through the air and into the river.

Without ceremony or sound, all of the matter that had come through the Gate was sucked back into it. Total protonic reversal. There was a brief second of total silence, and then a deep, thrumming explosion with a shockwave that could be seen in the water of the river as a huge wave. Bryan, Remy and Amber all fell down from the force of the Gate’s collapse, but Bryan shot back to his feet just as quickly and sprinted to the edge of the water.

Hacking and coughing, Eric surface a good hundred feet down river, his shorted out and disabled Proton Gauntlet gripping one of the Boardwalk’s small ladders. Bryan ran down to help him out of the water and over the railing, and the two of them collapsed onto the sidewalk.

“Nice move,” Bryan managed through gasping breaths.

“That was the stupidest thing I have ever done and will ever do,” Eric coughed his promise, still spitting up water.

Bryan’s radio sprang to life with Mr. Kaye's voice. “Is everyone alive?”

“Yeah, boss,” Bryan replied after a moment of fumbling with the device. “Everyone’s alive.”

[internalsealpanic]

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

  A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

  warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat. 

 Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug. 

 You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh. 

 Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

 Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely.  You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question. 

 “Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement. 

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this. 

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

 So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

 Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him. 

 Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look. 

 You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

 You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

 Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

 After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but  Dick can't complain. 

 After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest. 

 "Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes. 

 Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

 You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

 Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him. 

 Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like. 

 He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick. 

 "I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring. 

 Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick. 

 "C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice. 

 "I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

 "But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

 "That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

 "I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff. 

 "-I'm calling it in."

 Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

 "Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

 Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-" 

 "Fine! What do you want?"

 Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off. 

 "I need you to help me catch fish."

 Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

 "Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

 "You're insane."

 "I think we reserve that term for Bruce." 

 Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

   You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them. 

 You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

 You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued. 

 You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound. 

 Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

 You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat. 

 A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

 "Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

 Dick is over the moon. 

 He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't. 

 Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater. 

 Dick is... concerned. 

 You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce. 

 You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

 Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you. 

 You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

 Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing. 

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

 Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

 You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

 He croons happily when you being to pet him.

 You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

 He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

 When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment. 

 "Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

 A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them. 

 You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and  I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers. 

 You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

 Thought process-wise, no.

 Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

 Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

 Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

   Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

 Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

 Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors. 

 Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later. 

 "Pup, what the fuck?"

 You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.  

 You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move.  “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move. 

 You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh. 

 Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there. 

 You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores. 

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket. 

 In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok. 

 You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep? 

 Tok, tok, tok. 

 Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.  

 Tok tok tok. 

 You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.  

 You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

 Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

 Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck. 

 You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack. 

 For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

 The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

 You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked. 

 You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you. 

 The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

 You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

 A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of  'your problem'.

 The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

 "Do you like sugar in your tea?"

 The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little. 

 You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat. 

 You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name. 

 You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

 There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face. 

 "Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper. 

 You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

 You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

 "I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

 The pout deepens into a frown.

 "(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?" 

 You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching.  "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

 "Pup?!"

 His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

 You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest.  "How is this possible?"

 He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

 You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill. 

 Dick might just be in heaven right now. 

 "I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

 You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

 Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head. 

 You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

 Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

 His insides twist as he peels of you. 

 Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave. 

 "Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-" 

 Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

 Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

 He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

 You whisper another apology.

 Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

 You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

   "If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity. 

 Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream. 

 "Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?" 

 Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming. 

 "She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you. 

 He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

 "Well no-"

 It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

 "She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail. 

 Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

 Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly. 

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

 "What?"

 Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head.  "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what?  The space of 15 minutes?"

 "I got confused." Dick sputters. 

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound.  "She probably feels terrible”.

 "Are you guilt-tripping me?"

 "Is it working?"

 "What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

 "Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

 Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

 Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out. 

 Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks. 

 Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment. 

 "DICKFACE!"

 "What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response. 

 "Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

 Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

 "Just steal some from her laundry."

  "But she'll be pissed."

 "Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

 Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

 Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand.  "I always make sense."

 Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time.  Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace.  His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

 Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock. 

 Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

 Tok.   Tok.   Tok. 

 The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it. 

 He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back. 

 Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

 Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night. 

 "Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his. 

  "Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you." 

 Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

 Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are.  Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut.  All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days. 

 "Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him. 

 Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

 You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features. 

 Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him. 

 Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

 Dick stops.

 You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck. 

 You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words. 

 Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

 You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up. 

 Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water. 

 "I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

 You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

 "I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands. 

 "So what are selkies?"

 Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

 "We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

 Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

 Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?" 

 Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?" 

 You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum.  Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

 Dick’s mouth dries.  “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly. 

 “Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

 “Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head.  His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

 You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water. 

 But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you. 

 “If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask. 

 Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

 He nods closing his eyes.  “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

 You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer. 

 “I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm. 

 “Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

 You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

 Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

 “I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

 “Fish.”

 Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle.  Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater. 

 “I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.  

 You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie. 

 Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.)  to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls).  Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes.  He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

 It wasn't always gifts though.

 Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred. 

 When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

 You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

 If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

 During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

 __________________________________________________________________________

 "Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on. 

 Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family. 

 Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason. 

 Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness.  "Ask Selina."

 No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

 Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

 Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron. 

 "Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize. 

 "Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly. 

 Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

 Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

 "Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

 "It screamed."

 "All soups scream."

 "I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

 Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

 "Great!"

 "Buuuut..."

 Of course, the price.

 "I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully. 

 The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested. 

 "Tell me why you need the book."

 Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron.  "... Why do you need to know?"

 Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

 Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

 "Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

 "You know her?"

 Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

 He has.

 "I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out. 

 "Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

 Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town. 

 "It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed. 

 You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes,  letting him snuggle up to you.  "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort. 

 Dick pouts.  "You're still gonna let me sleep here." 

 You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair. 

 "Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly.  He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

 "See." Dick trills with a happy grin. 

 "Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

 "No," he says,  "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

 "Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes." 

 Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

 "That was a selkie." Dick deadpans. 

 You stop your rambling. "What?!"

 "That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully. 

 Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

 "All of them, darling." Dick nods. 

 "Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up. 

 "Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head. 

 "No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

 Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation. 

 "You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums. 

 A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

 Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

 You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips. 

 You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

 "You don't believe me, do you?"

 "No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours. 

 You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

 Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his. 

 "I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

 You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

 "You can do it again." Please, he almost adds. 

 You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. 

 You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it. 

 "You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs. 

 You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

 "Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

 "Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

 "Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking. 

 Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper. 

 "Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute.  Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

 "Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

 "Never."

 ______________________________________________________________________

 Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire.  He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim. 

 Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools. 

 You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

 "Hey Dickie," you whisper.

 "Hmmmmm?" He groans.

 "Could you hand me your pelt?"

 "Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

 The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

 "Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins. 

 Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it. 

 Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

 You twitch your nose. "You missed."

 "Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

 You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his.  Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips. 

 "That clear enough, Dickie?"  You ask, pressing your forehead against his. 

 "Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list:  @batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be​ @jadedhillon​​

[robininthelabyrinth]

JGY and NMJ post-canon, as fierce corpses sealed up together in that coffin (as per novel), get freed from the coffin and go to Cloud Recesses on Baxia because NMJ is fed with having that little snake around all the time.

ao3

“I can’t believe you actually managed to get us out of there,” Jin Guangyao said when they reached air again.

“I can’t believe you’re still talking,” Nie Mingjue growled, his voice still raspy from the whole decapitated head business, which he was still taking far too personally in Jin Guangyao’s opinion. He’d already been dead at the time! It wasn’t like Jin Guangyao had caused him any additional pain by the dismemberment!

Anyway, Nie Mingjue had unexpectedly turned into a terrifyingly powerful fierce corpse – contrary to everything that should have happened, did he just skip the whole soul-calming rituals that all children of the gentry were supposedly getting? – and there had simply been no other alternative that would keep him from murdering Jin Guangyao right then and there.

Possibly, Jin Guangyao allowed, that was the problem Nie Mingjue had with it.

“Aren’t you tired? You’ve done nothing but talk since we got stuck in there!”

“It’s my finest talent –”

“Lying and deceit are your finest talents.”

“And those require talking!”

Nie Mingjue shoved Jin Guangyao as he tried to climb out of the coffin. He tried to catch himself with one hand, forgot that he didn’t have that arm anymore, and tumbled to the ground.

If it wasn’t for the fact that they’d realized some time ago that their sentience depended on regularly interacting with each other, and that without regular conversation they would both begin to lose their minds and revert to ravening beasts, Jin Guangyao swore that he would have murdered Nie Mingjue and torn apart his body a second time over.

“I should’ve ripped off your tongue instead of your arm,” Nie Mingjue complained. “I’d have had a happier afterlife if I did.”

“Too late now,” Jin Guangyao grumbled, getting up. It was very strange, being a fierce corpse. “I liked you better when you were wholly consumed with rage – oh, wait, that’s what you’ve been like the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too.”

The prohibition on the coffin had been broken, but there was still one around the ruined temple to keep people out and evil creatures, a category currently including the two of them, although Jin Guangyao suspected that Nie Mingjue would argue that Jin Guangyao had always been included in that category. He might even be right, who knew? 

At any rate, they needed to break the prohibition to get out. Jin Guangyao tossed himself down on the ground to wait while Nie Mingjue examined it.

“Why did you start talking?” he asked idly. “I’ve always wondered. When I died, you were completely mindless.”

“Who knows?” Nie Mingjue said distractedly. “Maybe all you need for sentience is to marinate in rage for long enough.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Why? Works for the sabers.”

Jin Guangyao opened his mouth, then found he had nothing to say. He supposed that it did.

“Why did you always have so much rage, anyway?” he complained. “I understand the bit about your father being murdered, and of course your stupid cultivation style encourages it, but you always seemed especially irritated about everything.”

Nie Mingjue huffed. “You remember that I’m misaligned, right?”

“So what? Being misaligned makes you more of a shithead?”

“No, dealing with your father made me more of a shithead.”

Jin Guangyao considered the practicalities of having to deal with his father while possessing a physically female body and shuddered. It really wasn’t worth considering, especially since Lanling Jin did not believe in or especially respect Qinghe Nie’s tradition of misaligned souls. “Wait,” he said a moment later. “He knew? Why did he know?! I didn’t know, and I worked for you for years!”

“You worked for me as an adult, you dolt. He met me when I was still young.”

Jin Guangyao thought about it, then grimaced. “I can’t even imagine you as a little girl.”

“That’s because I wasn’t.”

“…I wish you’d have told me,” Jin Guangyao picked at the fraying hem of his robes.

“Why? Would you be less likely to murder me if you knew? Or was it just to spare yourself the unpleasant shock you received when you were dismembering my corpse?”

Jin Guangyao considered it. “Mostly the latter.”

“Good. If you’d said it was the former, I’d take my chances with insanity.”

Jin Guangyao rolled his eyes, then frowned. “Did he ever…?”

“Ever..? Wait, what? No!” Nie Mingjue turned to stare at him, looking scandalized – which was not an expression one really expected to see on a fierce corpse. “Why would you even ask that?”

Jin Guangyao shrugged. “Seemed reasonable, given everything else he did.”

“No,” Nie Mingjue grimaced. “He just thought I was a freak, and it seemed to especially irritate him when I didn’t just submit to whatever he wanted, that’s all. Nothing over the top...still, you clearly know what he was like. This was the man you were so desperate for the approval for?”

“I figured it out eventually,” Jin Guangyao grumbled. “Anyway, who are you to talk about father issues? You, with the whole you-killed-my-father obsession?”

“He did kill my father.”

“Big deal! So did I!” He paused. “Kill my father, that is. Not yours.”

“Did you?” Nie Mingjue snorted. “My desire to kill you went down one notch.”

“It did?”

“From several tens of thousands, but yes.”

Jin Guangyao drummed his fingers on his knee thoughtfully. “Can I kill other people to make it keep going down?”

“The fact that you even asked that made it go back up.”

Useless. Nie Mingjue was just completely useless.

“How long will it take you to get out of this one?” he asked instead, changing the subject. “I’d like to get to the Cloud Recesses to see Lan Xichen before, you know, he dies of old age.”

“Would you like to break through this array?” Nie Mingjue growled.

Lan Xichen had always been very fond of communication. He sincerely believed that almost all the problems in the world were due to miscommunication, that the vast majority of the time people just needed to meet in the middle and talk things over and that they would be able to solve almost everything to their mutual satisfaction.

Communication, Jin Guangyao decided, had not helped things one bit.

“Have you figured out what you’re going to say?” Nie Mingjue asked, poking at one part of the array and not looking at Jin Guangyao in a way that had to be deliberate.

“Say?” Jin Guangyao asked. “When?”

“When we get to the Cloud Recesses. What you’ll say to Xichen.”

Jin Guangyao had thought a lot about that. “It depends,” he hedged. “I mean, what I say to him, there’s a lot of factors – for instance, will you be there?”

“Would you prefer to talk to him as mindless fierce corpse slavering for his blood?”

Jin Guangyao grimaced. “I’m still thinking about it, then.”

“Well, think fast, then. I found a gap.”

“Good!” Jin Guangyao scrambled to his feet. “That was fast. How do we break it?”

“It’s impossible to break from the inside.”

“…you couldn’t have told me that before I got up?!”

“You don’t even have muscles anymore,” Nie Mingjue complained. “Your entire body is powered by resentful energy. Why are you still whining?”

Jin Guangyao wished he had a second arm so that he could cross them over his chest and glare. Or put them on his hips and glare. Or even just use them to make a rude gesture more easily done with two hands. “Are we trapped here forever or not?”

“It can be broken from the outside,” Nie Mingjue clarified, rolling his eyes. “I’ll summon Baxia to break it, and then we can use her to fly to the Cloud Recesses.”

“Fine.” Jin Guangyao frowned. “Wait, won’t that alert Huaisang that we’re back?”

“Probably.”

“He’ll boil me alive!”

“Only pieces of you, probably,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding far too smug about the idea. “As long as he knows that I need some of you alive. Maybe I should be the one to keep your head in my closet, this time?”

“It was a treasure room. I didn’t keep you in a closet.”

“It was a fucking closet.”

“It wasn’t. It was in a mirror and everything, it’s much more sophisticated.”

“You’re the guy that had a murder closet. Accept it.”

“I refuse to be the guy with the murder closet. Anyway, you can’t let him boil me alive, you don’t know what’ll happen if you let him do that.” He thought about it, and specifically about Nie Mingjue’s prioritization between risk and reward. “Please don’t let Huaisang boil me alive.”

“I’ll consider speaking in your favor if you stop being so annoying.”

“On second thought, I don’t have nerves anymore and can’t feel pain. Bring on the boil.”

“Are we really going to have to do this for the rest of our lives?” Nie Mingjue wondered, sounding depressed.

“For the rest of eternity,” Jin Guangyao said, equally grim. “That’s why we have to get to er-ge in time to convince him to cultivate to immortality. If I had to wait alone with you until he reincarnates, I’ll go insane.”

“You’re already insane.”

“I’ll lose the ability to stop talking.”

“…Xichen cultivating to immortality it is.” Nie Mingjue thought about it. “Do you think we could convince Huaisang to…?”

“No,” Jin Guangyao said. “You couldn’t get him to cultivate to competent; who could get him to cultivate to immortality?”

The answer to that, as they discovered when they arrived at the Cloud Recesses, was apparently Lan Xichen.

“Did I need to know this?” Jin Guangyao complained, unable to believe that he’d returned from the dead as a fierce corpse and managed to regain his sanity and even work with Nie Mingjue to get to the Cloud Recesses in order to apologize to his sworn brother for all the wrongs he’d done to him, only to be stuck waiting outside in the rain while said sworn brother finished banging his other sworn brother’s little brother. “I didn’t need to know this.”

“Shut up,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’m practicing meditation in order to block out sound from my ears. Maybe I should remove my head again? Do you think that would help?”

“Nothing will help,” Jin Guangyao said as another set of enthusiastic shouting emerged through the too-thing walls. “Ever. My mind is scarred permanently.”

“Maybe that’ll improve it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too.”

They stood in silence for a little while, the only sounds the howling of the wind and also the howling from inside the room.

“…how long do you think it’ll take for them to finish and notice we’re here?” Jin Guangyao considered. “Maybe we could throw rocks?”

“It took five years for us to get out of that coffin,” Nie Mingjue said. “You can wait five minutes for them to finish.”

“It’d be funny if we threw rocks and then appeared in the window, dark figures silhouetted by lightning. Like in those scary puppet plays. They might never have sex again.”

“I value my brother’s happiness over your petty desire to ruin his sex life,” Nie Mingjue said, then grimaced at a particularly loud yowl. “As tempting as the thought might be.”

“We’ll wait, then,” Jin Guangyao said. “And then we’re all going to have some words.”

“Of course we are. Because you don’t shut up.”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Confidence to inspire fear

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

The bridge of the freighter felt like it had become a nightmare as Lithel awoke.

He tried to open his eyes but even when open the room refused to stop spinning. One of his upper left eyes refused to open and as Lithel attempted to reach up with one of his arms he found that he could not move it as well.

Tilting his head down and saw through his blurry eyes that a section of the bridge ceiling had collapsed atop him and was pinning him to the deck. He tried to rise but the weight was too heavy. Just as he began pondering if this would be his end he felt the debris shift atop him. "Captain!" Lithel heard someone calling him but the sound felt like it was coming from everywhere. "Captain can you hear me!?"

Blinking several more times Lithel was able to focus and he saw his second in command Michael rushing over. He could hear several other footsteps approaching and not long after the metal pinning him to the floor being lifted off and a strong pair of arms pulling him out.

"I got you sir, just take it easy."

Lithel moved his mouth to thank him but nothing came out but a soft gurgle and whimper.

Only now as he was pulled free did Lithel see the damage done to his bridge. Halve the consoles were shattered, the data streams were flickering rapidly as an overload of information from across the ship poured in, and at one of the walls had several panels blown out and were currently on fire.

Michael helped lay him down across the floor while a medic rushed over and began treating him. Lithel was about to sit up and take back his command throne when the communications officer rushed over.

"Message coming in sir; it's from the pirates."

Lithel's eyes went wide and he tried to sit up but Michael put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. They had served together aboard the Red Manta for some twenty years and had developed an understanding that needed no words.

He saw the look in Michael's eyes and knew he would take care of the situation and instead laid back down.

"Put them through." Michael said as the communication officer scurried off and began fiddling with the only remaining working communication console.

Within moments the data feeds stopped streaming information and displayed an image. On the opposite end series of figures could be seen standing around a command throne similar to Lithel's were it not for the adorning skulls and bones of various species draped over it.

They were muscular mixture of aliens ranging from lizard like creatures with sharpened teeth to thin limbed beings looking like living twigs, and even a strange blob like creature that had a knife wedged within it. But the most impressive of the figures was sitting atop the throne itself.

It had the shape of a humanoid figure but it appeared as a swirling cloud of black ink ever shifting. It wore no clothing and had no distinguishable features save for a pair of crimson red eyes.

"Surrender."

It was a single word spoken by the black ink creature before Michael could even say a word. The crew around it chuckled and laughed as if sizing up their soon to be prize; though Michael would soon throw a wrench into their celebration.  

"Are you insane!?" he spoke. His stance was firm and unwavering with his feet planted into the decking as if he was bracing for a storm. "Do you have any idea what you have done?"

"Who, are you?" the black ink creature spoke as it raised a talon like finger at Michael, the ink bleeding off of it in drips as it did so.

"I am Captain Michael Zbari of the human reformation, transporting goods to the homeworld."

The pirates appeared confused at this announcement and murmured among themselves before the ink creature held up a hand. The medic treating Lithel appeared to take just as much of the confusion from the announcement and was about to say something when Lithel forestalled him. He knew Michael was playing a dangerous game, and it might just be there only way of getting out of this.

"You, lie." The words were spoken as if through water and Lithel could barely understand them as the thing continued. "The captain, is not human; this, we know."

"First you attack my ship unprovoked and now you claim I am not captain of my own ship?!"

His confidence radiated from him as he spoke and some of the pirates appeared taken aback. They were the ones who had attacked and now had them all at gun point. With a single word they could destroy the Red Manta and be on their way yet this human was acting as if they were the ones who should be sorry.

"Do you have any idea who are cargo is for?" Michael continued. "Should, we, care?" the ink being replied. "You should when Emperor Galvoc finds out you stole his personal shipment."

The smirks of the pirates dropped away instantly at this. The mere mention of the human emperor's name gave them pause as if they had just been struck by a cannon. The ink being leaned forward now on both arms and fixed the camera with a burning gaze.

"You, lie."

Michael scoffed at this and raised his arms out. "Nineteen containers of freshly cut refrigerated Borgan meat, twelve containers of the finest wines of the Nebula Rim, thirty six crates of gem stones from the fire pit mines of Draxon Iv, and that's just the tip of the ice berg."

The ink monster relaxed back into it's throne at this. "An, impressive, haul, indeed." it said and some of the pirates began grinning again but Michael continued to speak.

"For one with a death wish, an impressive haul for sure."

Michael stepped towards the monitor. "You could kill us and steal all of our cargo to sell but it won't matter; because the emperor will hear of this and will hunt you down to the farthest ends of the universe."

The ink thing chuckled and Michael's face frowned. "By attacking his shipment you have essentially declared war on him; you do realize that don't you?"

At this the black goo like creature stopped chuckling.

"He controls the largest fleet of ships to ever sail the void;  their numbers alone change gravity of entire systems with their passing."

"His armies are beyond counting and the march of their feet can crack planets in two."

"The depths of his depravity for torture against his enemies boundless and of such horrific that even the Draxic are afraid to incur his wrath."

Fixing an equally dark glare now Michael faced down the ink being. "You have no idea the hurricane you just sailed into."

The pirates began to argue among themselves but the black creature let out a deep roar that sounded as if bubbling tar could scream.

"He, will, never, know!" it said, "We, will, be, long, gone, and, you, all, dead!"

It was Michael's turn to smirk as he pulled out a small box like device with a blinking red light.

"This, is an emergency transmitter capable of reaching across five sectors." he held it out clearly so all the pirates could see. "Once activated it calls in a relief fleet to warp to our position within twenty minutes; and I activated it fifteen minutes ago."

For the first time the ink creature rose from its throne and pushed several of the pirates aside with surprising strength for a creature that appeared to be made of living oil.

"You, bluff!" is said.

"You could stay and board us to call it, but when they arrive and blow your scrap heap of a ship out of the stars I don't think it'll really matter what you think now will it?"

The two stared down each other, neither speaking a word yet unwilling to back down in the face of this challenge.

Lithel watched with ever clearing eyes as the pirates became increasingly anxious.

"Tick." Michael made a sound similar the clock arms of his wrist time device. "Tick, tick tick tick."

"Silence!" the ink creature bellowed, but Michael continued.

"Time's running out for you." His face was devoid of emotion save a devlish smirk. "Tick, tick, tick, tick!"

"I said silence!"

"Time's running out little pirate." Michael quipped back, "Tick, tick, tick, tick!"

The pirates were not frantic and some even began talking to the ink creature in an alien language none of the red manta crew could understand but it appeared to upset the ink being.

Letting out another roar the screen suddenly went dead leaving the bridge crew silent as the repair teams finally shuffled in to douse the flames.

Through the viewport Lithel could see the pirate ship burning retro boosters and turning around as fast as it could before warping away.

Michael stood upright for a few moments more after they fled back to the warp before collapsing down to the ground. Streaks of sweat began pouring down his face like rivers and he began breathing rapidly.

Lithel raised himself on to his arms unsteadily and looked at Michael.

"How did you know that would work?"

Michael looked at him as if he just remembered he wasn't alone on the bridge and looked embarrassed.

"When you act like you have the backing of the biggest thug in the yard, the other rats tend to leave you alone."

"So by claiming to be the emperors personal shipment.." Lithel began as he connected the dots.

"They would fear the hell hammer that would fall on them should they attempt to steal from the biggest threat the galaxy has ever seen."

Lithel was surprised that such an act of subterfuge worked but they were still alive and he would be the last to complain on how it was handled. He did point to the strange blinking box Michael still clutched in his hand.

"What is that device?"

Michael looked at it for a moment before chucking it over to Lithel who gracefully caught it mid air.

"It's a remote control for my room lights."

Lithel looked at it dumbfounded but before he could inquire more from Michael he saw his second in command pass out on the bridge as the stress of the attack and the performance he just made finally caught up to him.

[villainousshakespeare]

Bobby’s Playdate Part 2

Part 1

The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?

Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Chapter 2 of4

Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Second Part May (will) Contain Smut

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit @spooky1980 @ghostypau @viviennes-tears @lady-loki-ren

I am so sorry I took so long to update this! First I was distracted by a super busy week, and then I decided to rework what I had in store for it. It took a while to redo, but I have decided to make it a 4 part story. Hope you enjoy, and that the wait was worth it!

The day had started out like every other since the lock down began. Leia had slept late, having no where to go. A cold, wet kiss on her nose from Lulu woke her up when the pup could no longer wait to be let out and grumbling she had taken her out for a quick walk up and down the block. After two cups of coffee and some melon, Leia had realized that after three months of enforced solitude, both she and her dog had gotten decidedly surly. It was time to get out, even if it was only to the local park.

Lulu’s excitement when she took out the little pink and white checked dress had been enough to put a smile on Leia’s face. Really, the small dog was a ridiculous creature, but she could be such a bundle of sunshine. After they were both outfitted – Lulu in her dress and Leia in a comfy outfit and mask, they made their way to the nearby park, enjoying a leisurely stroll around the newly green paths. She wished that Lulu was not too timid to play in the dog run, but after spending a year in the shelter the poor thing was terrified of other dogs.

That was why she was so surprised when Lulu’s tale began to wag excitedly. Normally she would have been cowering and whimpering in fear at the sound of another dog approaching, but for once her reaction was completely different. She jumped up from where she had been snuggling on Leia’s lap and perked up her ears, tongue lolling out happily. When the chocolate spaniel came trotting around the bend, she even jumped of Leia and strained at the leash to meet him.

Keeping a tight hold on Lulu’s leash, Leia let her eyes travel up the lead attached to the strange dog. It was quite a long trip, as it happened, past a pair of long legs in torn jogging pants, a faded shirt that would once have been bright blue, and a plain black mask until she got to a set of smiling blue eyes that made her heart stop.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, “I promise he is completely friendly.”

She had known who he was instantly, of course. No face mask could disguise those cheek bones, the copper curls that brushed his collar, or the baby blues that had sent a million fan girls swooning. If she had had any doubts, one word from that sinful voice, a verbal caress of polite friendliness, would have stamped it out. She had seen almost all of his movies, after all, and quite a number of his promotional appearances as well.

“It’s okay, so is she,” she replied struggling to keep her voice normal and grateful for the mask that hid her stunned initial gape. “You know, she’s usually quite shy, but she seems to like him! May I pet him?”

And then Tom Hiddleston –  The Tom Hiddleston! – had sat down on the bench next to her while she petted Bobby and struck up a casual conversation! She had kept her eyes on the pups at first, afraid that if she looked at him, he would see the excitement and intimidation in her eyes. He introduced himself, needlessly, of course, and she gave him her name in a kind of daze. She realized that he had only provided his first name and had the quick flash of insight that he might be enjoying the idea of anonymity. If that were the case, she would not want to spoil it for him by gushing. Uncertain of what to do, she let the obvious joke about her name lead her to mentioning Marvel characters. That way, she decided, he would have a segue to talking about his career should he want to. When he let it slide and quickly changed the subject, she decided that her assumption must have been correct.

Which was absolutely fine with her! She was sitting and talking to Tom Hiddleston! While she would, of course, love to pick his brain about Loki, or Shakespeare, or any of a dozen projects, she was more than happy to listen to him discuss his dog in that proud pappa voice. By the time she had told him the story behind Lulu’s dress excitement she was reasonably settled and could actually manage to look him in the eye without blushing.

She had met a few famous people in her time as a London tour guide, and many of them had been a colossal let down. Tom was not one of them. He was everything she had ever imagined or hoped he would be. Kind, funny, clever, a little prone to talk on about any subject he happened on, but in all a delightful conversation partner. She was disappointed but not surprised when he had to leave, but she didn’t want to be too greedy; it was already one of the most magical afternoons of his life. When he mentioned running into them again, she almost squealed with excitement, just barely managing to keep her face impassive.

Thus began a fairy tale of month for Leia and Lulu. After two days of rain, during which she was certain he would forget all about her, they had found the boys again at the same spot. Leia half wondered if she were simply dreaming, but if so, she had no desire to wake up. They met up with Tom and Bobby most days, walking for hours sometimes as they discussed London, their childhoods, school. She learned quickly that he changed the subject instinctively whenever anything came up that might lead to his career. She could respect that. It must be hard, she thought, being always in the public eye. For her own part, Leia tacitly decided to keep the subject of her book a secret. After all, a fantasy story based on Norse Mythology, with Loki playing a leading role, was bound to bring up the sort of conversation he obviously wished to avoid.

As time went on, she began to forget he was a movie star and just think of him as her friend, insane as that struck her when she stopped to look at it. Oh, she was still absurdly attracted to him, but it was no longer for his stunning character portrayals or teasing banter with interviewers. No, the teasing banter she was interested in now was much more personal for her. He was delightful company, unfailingly polite, quick with a wickedly funny comment or a profound musing on life. In short, Leia was well and truly smitten. Hopelessly, she thought with a sigh.

When he invited her to his home, she could barely believe it. A casual acquaintance in the park was one thing, a dinner chez Hiddleston was completely different. She knew it was in large part for the sake of the puppies, and that was fine. Lulu was as besotted with Bobby as Leia was with Tom, only in this case it was obviously mutual. Leia would just have to be careful to guard her heart. She was not a part of his real life, and she needed to remember that, even if they never discussed it.

***

Bobby started barking seconds before the buzzer rang, his tail wagging back and forth at a frantic pace. Tom, scarcely less excited, gave a quick glance in the mirror before slipping on his mask and opening the door.

Leia stood on his doorstep looking even more lovely than usual. Her simple leggings and long tee had been replaced by a pretty, floral sundress in shades of red and yellow and her hair, usually tied up or back, was long and curling about her shoulders. Tom swallowed and tried to keep his eyes from doing too obvious an up and down of her body. It was difficult, considering the shape of her legs and amount of them showing. Lulu’s yip drew his eyes down to her, and he saw that she was dressed in a purple polka dotted number for the evening, her hair sporting several sparkly clips to keep her braids from coming undone.

“Hi, welcome!” he greeted them, straining to keep Bobby from leaping out the door. “Won’t you come in?”

“Thanks,” she smiled with her eyes as he ushered her inside.

“You found the place alright?”

“Your directions were perfect,” she assured him, glancing around at his newly bare entryway. “It’s quite the posh street you live on! I don’t think I’ve ever been into one of these houses.”

“Oh, it’s just like any other home,” he said modestly, feeling stupid as he did. His house had an electronic gate (that he had left unlocked for her) and a private surveillance system. He knew it was not the usual home. “I can give you a tour later if you like.”

“I’d love that. Whatever you have cooking smells delicious!”

“Thanks. I’ll have to check on it in a bit. For now, though, why don’t we go out back? I have some drinks chilling.”

He gestured for her to proceed him and subtly steered her past the kitchen and living room and out the sliding glass doors into the back. The yard was pretty, a nice square plot with flowers growing along the fence on three sides and one large tree giving shade. A table with four chairs and a grill stood on a little stone area, and Tom had set it up with a selection of glasses for beer, wine, and mixed drinks. A pitcher of iced water stood next to a bottle of dry rose in an ice bucket, and another small bucket contained iced beers.

“Here you go, Bobby,” he unleashed the spaniel who instantly tore off around the yard, looking for his favorite toy. “Why don’t you two have a nice frolic.”

“Oh Lulu, this will be fun!” Leia cooed to her pup, also removing her dog’s leash.

As the little dog scampered off after Bobby, Tom took a deep breath and turned to her owner. Now was the moment he had been waiting for.

“I suppose since we are alone and outside and all… as long as we stay six feet apart… would you mind?” he gestured towards his mask.

“Not at all. Oh, and I got my negative test results back. I have a copy on my phone if you want to see them!” she offered.

“No need, I trust you,” he was quick to assure her. “I got mine as well.”

It was strange – until a few months ago he would have felt tremendously awkward wearing a mask around another person. Even when he had needed to wear one for a few scenes in Only Lovers Left Alive it had seemed tremendously cumbersome and rather silly. Now though, Tom realized that he could not remember the last time he had been around another person without one. There was something shockingly intimate in the act of taking it off in front of Leia, and he found himself feeling almost shy. Blushing a bit, he unhooked the straps from around his ears and took the fabric from in front of his mouth, setting it on one of the chairs.

His eyes fastened on her as she reached up to do the same, the red mask peeling away to reveal a small bow of a mouth, pink lips curved in a slight smile. Her chin was slightly pointed and had a cute little half dimple to one side. Smile lines were just barely visible and added to the appeal of her face. It was a very kissable mouth, he decided.

“Hi,” he said, rather fatuously, face breaking into a sheepish grin. “I’m Tom.”

“Hi Tom,” she smiled back, and his heart skipped a beat. “I’m Leia.”

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, until he cleared his throat and pointed to a chair.

“Please, have a seat,” he managed to say. “As you see, I have wine, beer, water, or I could make you a cocktail if you’d rather. Or lemonade if you prefer a soft drink…” he realized he was babbling and cut himself off.

“Wine would be nice,” she said, sitting down and crossing one long leg over the other, giving him a lovely glimpse of her thigh.

“Right, wine it is,” he said, uncorking the bottle and grabbing a glass. “I hope it’s alright. My sister loves this brand, she brought it when she was here last, and it is better than anything I would have known to get.”

“Not a wine guy?” she asked, accepting the glass from him.

“Oh, I like a good hearty red with a steak now and then, and I will definitely have some with dinner tonight – I hope you like Italian, by the way – but for casual drinking, I’m more of a beer or scotch fan myself.”

While he prattled on Tom opened up one of the beers and poured it into a pint glass. When the foam had gone down a bit, he raised the glass and tilted it towards her.

“To deepening new friendships,” he dared to say, eyes finding hers.

They clinked their glasses, and he took a long sip of the hoppy beverage, hoping he hadn’t over stepped.

“To embracing human interaction!” she added. “Selectively, of course.”

Well, she obviously didn’t recognize him. That was a relief. He had been half worried that she would shriek, or become tongue tied, or worse. It was remarkable to him how many women seemed to have extreme reactions to meeting him. He was so ordinary! Just an overgrown ginger kid from Wimbledon. It wasn’t like they were meet Daniel Day Lewis for god’s sake. On the other hand, he couldn’t help feeling the tiniest twinge of disappointment. He worked hard at his job, after all, and was proud of the reputation he had developed and of the work he had done. It was strange, with how up on everything Leia always seemed, that she didn’t have any knowledge of Marvel at least, or The Night Manager. Still, some people didn’t watch a lot of movies and TV, or if they did it was more intellectual fare.

They both leaned back in their chairs and watched the dogs play chase back and forth. Tom found his eyes drifting back to her, staring at her mouth. He had never realized just how much a person’s mouth said about them. Leia’s smiled as a default, giving her a more youthful look than she had when it was covered. There was something fresh and approachable about her that he was drawn to.

The conversation was light and easy. Neither of them had been doing much of anything lately, so they resorted to telling older stories from their childhoods. Tom was amused to think of Leia playing with her friends, insisting that no, she wanted to be Han Solo despite what her thoughtless parents had named her. Tom, of course, had wanted to play all of the characters, and delighted her with his spot-on Darth Vadar and Grand Moff Tarkin impressions.

“You were a terror, weren’t you?” she laughed as he described bossing his sister about the correct way to make the light saber noises.

“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. “Emma and Sarah would probably say more than a bit. They had it coming though.”

“I’m sure they would agree with that, too,” she said sarcastically.

“It’s not my fault they couldn’t take direction,” he grinned. “I’m sure you would have made an excellent Han Solo. With the proper lessons.”

“Perhaps you can make me your student after dinner, if we have enough wine,” she suggested.

He knew she meant it innocently enough, but he felt a blush creep up his cheeks at the image her words planted in his mind. Leia in a schoolgirl outfit, bent over his desk flashing through his brain was enough to make him reach for his beer and gulp down more than was advisable. She seemed to realize after a moment, as she too reached for her glass and took a long swallow.

Lulu chose that moment to break away from where they had been digging around the tree and came running over to them, something grimy hanging from her mouth.

“What have you got there, peanut?” Leia sked, sounding a bit relieved.

“She seems to have unearthed one of Bobby’s treasures,” Tom smiled, glad of the distraction himself.

“Here, princess, you want me to throw it for you?”

Leia held out her hand and she happily dropped the toy into it. Tom looked at the toy and felt his jaw go slack and his eyes frantic. It was Loki. Of course it was. One of Bobby’s favorite toys, naturally, given to him during the lead up to one of the movies, the thick ropes of green and gold formed a long God of Mischief chew toy/tug of war combo, complete with horns. Tom licked his lips, glancing quickly at Leia, only to see that she was smiling down at her fluffy pup.

“Oh, Lulu, Look! It’s just like yours, only a bit more loved,” she said with a laugh. “Good girl, saving the handsome prince from a shallow grave. Loki never stays dead for long!”

With another laugh she took the toy and threw it across the yard, Lulu and Bobby both quickly scampering off after it. Tom gaped at her, uncertain what to say.

“You must have a lot of those,” she commented off handedly.

“You… you know?” he stammered.

“Know what?”

“Who I am?” it sounded stupid and conceited to his own ears.

“Well, I hope so since I’m in your home.”

“No, I mean you know what I do for a living,” he ground out, feeling like an utter ass.

“Of course,” she told him, quirking her lips.

“Since when?” he choked out.

“Since the first day. You’re not exactly easy to mistake, Tom.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I figured it must get old, people falling all over themselves around you, treating you like you’re not even human.”

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“So I took my cue from you.”

“I see,” he was completely flummoxed. “And you have a Loki toy? For Lulu, I mean?”

“Of course, he’s our favorite! Poor, misunderstood boy. You know, I am glad I have the opportunity to tell you now how good you are. And not just as Loki. You were breath taking in Betrayal.”

“You saw Betrayal?”

“Twice. Stunning work.”

He knew his mouth was opening and closing stupidly, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. She had known, all this time. She had been humoring him by not talking about it. He was not entirely sure how to feel about that.

“Tom is everything alright?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“Was that why you talked to me?” he heard himself asking. “Why you agreed to come over? Because I am famous?”

“No,” she said slowly. “I came over because you asked, and because I like you. Yes, I was a bit star struck at first, but I got past it. Are you angry? I just assumed you realized.”

“No. No, I didn’t. I… I should go check on dinner.”

“Tom, really, are you okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Be right back.”

Turning tail, he fled into the house, mind in complete turmoil at the new turn of events.

[deiliamedlini]

Whumptober 2021- The Darkness I Know

Chapter 1

Note: So, I decided to do the same thing I did last year, which is to turn the whumptober prompts into one continuous fic! This first chapter heading info up here is a mess! I’ll fix the next post!  Also will be posted on Ao3 (the link will only be on the chapter index page so I don’t keep forgetting to do that). These chapters are typically on the shorter side just because I am writing a chapter daily and haven’t written ahead more than the first two chapters! 

Fic Summary: After the world as she knew it was destroyed by the corruption of Malice, Zelda allies herself with her saviors from captivity: a disgruntled former governor, an alert paramedic, a cocky pilot, an excessively overt optimist, and a blind strategist. While the corrupted, malice-filled Yiga Clan looks for revenge on them, Zelda has to learn how important it is to find family in others... and how much more dangerous the stakes become if she fails to protect them.

No. 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO

“You have to let go” | barbed wire | bound

Chapter Index/ Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean you don’t have a ruler?”

“I don’t need one.”

“What are you doing—… no!”

Never had there been a more malicious offence in Zelda’s eyes. Rulers were the key to life: they kept things straight, and they made things balanced. There was equality in every precise and calculated movement, and a delicate hand was required to hold the simple mechanism steady.

So, watching Dorian take the scissors and cut three strands of paper was like cutting straight through the muscle of Zelda’s heart.

“Why would you do that!” she screeched, more an accusation than a question. “Now they’re uneven, and they’re crooked! You’re insane!”

“It’s just a stencil, Zelda. If you want to cut the wood with a ruler, go ahead, but now we have an idea of how much we need.”

“We need to redo that. It’s not accurate.”

“I’ve been doing this since before you were born. It’s accurate enough. I can eyeball it. Do you want to fix the fence today, or no?”

Zelda grabbed their tools off the table and sulked behind Dorian as he left without waiting for her answer.

There were some battles Zelda knew she had to lose to win the war. This was one of them,

The fence was a priority to keep out anything that might have been affected with Malice from entering Mabe Village. There were so few survivors as it was.

Before the Malice had invaded Hyrule, Zelda had thought that her student loans were the biggest problem she’d have to tackle. She’d thought the money she’d spent on an apartment outside Castle Town was worth it, despite being far from her family back in Akkala. She thought there was a bright future waiting for her behind the years she’d spent in academia, trapped behind computers writing term papers and researching and experimenting and playing by others’ rules with the dream of one day making her own.

Then, the Malice spread: a thick purple substance that oozed from a seemingly endless source; a vile smell that reeked of rotting food in a broken refrigerator, and a gaseous haze that followed that made it near impossible to breathe. Worse, it corrupted any who came into direct physical contact with it for too long, and most of those affected were now dead for one reason or another.

She remembered when her car stopped working on the highway as the purple smoke filled the air on that first day four years ago. She’d stayed inside the metal hull, watching in awed horror as it engulfed her in an endless stream of fog. She ducked down below the steering wheel and listened to the crashes of other cars on the road that didn’t manage to slow down before their sight was stolen by it all. The constant ring of a jammed horn had her blocking her ears after too long.

Three days in the car, officially parched and hungry, no one had come for her. No phones worked; no drivers dared leave their vehicles. But it had become too much, and Zelda decided it was worth risking a venture outside, even amidst the lingering smoke. Her tongue was dried out and every breath of air came out in a wheezing hiss. But she’d done it.

The haze had been unpleasant and burned her eyes a fair bit, but when she stumbled into a water cooler that had fallen from a shattered car’s backseat and chugged every drink inside, she found other survivors along the side of the highway doing the same, and they all stayed together until they could reach safety.

Enter Mabe Village, four years later.

Zelda and her group had scavenged on the side of the road for almost a full year before they’d found the refuge. It was safe from the crazed bokoblins who once lived peacefully in their own territories. It had walls to prevent any of the fast-but-grounded lizalfos from scaling over. And each creature came at them with a vengeance, each fueled by contact with the Malice.

For a while, Zelda was the only engineer who could fix the solar panel garden and keep the power running. She developed as many mechanical skills as she could, fixing tools and maintaining the plumbing. She even began to learn carpentry to keep the houses upright.

Then, Dorian came in: someone with far more experience than her to help lighten her load. She slept more with him around, and he was full of energy to work through the nights when Zelda couldn’t.

“Would your mom ever let you do this?” Dorian joked as they made it to the wall and set their tools down.

Zelda, now in her mid-twenties, hadn’t seen her mom in years, but she’d learned everything from her. She thought about the blonde woman with blue eyes who used to sneak Zelda dangerous tools when she was too young to comprehend the danger. The woman who had her daughter assist her with live wires because she needed a third hand. Zelda knew how to hold a soldering pen before holding a real one.

“No,” Zelda snorted, always careful about her mother’s carelessness. “She’d let me watch, but she’d definitely be too worried about my hands.”

“Always the hands,” Dorian repeated with a joking smile.

“Always the hands.”

The two set out to fix a gaping hole in their fence, and while Dorian took the outside, the barbed wire that was laid over the wood planks to discourage any creatures from ramming into it, Zelda took the wooden boards inside.

When they were all in place, Zelda examined some of the old wood, intrigued by a perfect set of bite marks.

“Dorian! Was this Ms. Maple’s dog who did all this damage?”

She turned it over in her hand and set it down with half a mind to stride right over to the only dog owner in Mabe Village, but when she heard silence from the other side of the fence, Zelda stopped herself.

“Dorian?” When it was still silent, Zelda turned and grabbed the closest tool she could reach: a screwdriver. She glanced down to see if there was anything better, but there was only her ruler, a hammer, nails, and a second flathead.

Looking behind her, she tucked the flathead into her belt and gripped the hammer as tightly as she could before heading around the gate to check on Dorian.

He wasn’t there.

There was barely a moment to think that something might have happened to him before she was face first in the grass with a heavy pressure holding her down.

Zelda tried to buck them off of her, but they were too heavy. There was a sound of metal scraping against something, and Zelda let out a muffled scream into the grass, still trying to free herself.

“No, wait! Wait!”

Zelda’s head whipped up and she saw a large group walking towards her, each dressed in red bodysuits with a strange mask concealing their faces. The voice though… the voice was…

“Dorian!” she screamed, trying to move again. “Get help!”

His face contorted, and he bent down in front of her, but his words were addressed to whoever was behind her. “She’s useful. She’s smart, handy, talented. We need her. And she’ll understand why we did this. She smart,” he said again, nodding to her.

The man behind her hesitated. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Positive. I’ve seen her work. I know her.”

A chill shot down Zelda’s spine, and she felt herself tugged upwards until she was sitting on her knees, face-to-face with Dorian in his red suit and a white mask atop his grey hair.

“Fine. Bring her with us. Tie her up.”

“Don’t fight, Zelda. I promise, this is just a precaution.”

She couldn’t help her body from struggling a bit, and she watched Dorian slide his mask into place.

“What’s happening? What’s happening?” Her wrists were tugged hard behind her back, and the rope was frayed enough to cut into her skin a bit.  

Dorian held out his hand, and Zelda, now bound, was handed off. “You’re with the Yiga Clan now.”

And with that, every other member of the group drew out their weapons and headed into Mabe Village while Dorian held Zelda still through her sobs for all the friends she’d never see again.

[exquisitley-obsessed]

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 3

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed​

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn's attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain's father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is going to be a long, slow burn fic (hopefully)

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Four: Playing House

“Who could be calling this time of night?” Vassa rose from her chair, her skirts flowing to the floor.

“Trouble?” Lucien shrugged.

“We can only hope,” Jurian grinned, leaping to his feet with newfound excitement.

“I sent the maids to bed,” Vassa moved to peer out a window where she should’ve had a clear view of the porch, but nothing could be seen through the black rain, “Should I wake the house for guests?”

“We don’t know if it’s a guest, might be something more fun,” Jurian was still grinning wolfishly, now bouncing from one foot to the other, “So…who’s going to open the door?” Both man and male turned to look at Vassa who only scoffed in response.

“Ugh - why me?”

“You’re the queen, princess.”

“How are you going to call me queen and princess in the same sentence?”

“It’s an oxymoron.”

“Oxymoronic more like.”

“Oh Mother, I’m surrounded by children,” Lucien groaned, running his hands over his face.

“The only children in this room are you two. Afraid of answering a door for Cauldrons-sake,” she huffed as she waltzed into the foyer, embellished with russet wood and crimson carpets, Lucien and Jurian on her tail like puppies.

She’d just reached the towering oak doors when something whipped her around, pulling her by her outstretched hand. Turning, Vassa came face to face with Lucien whose eyes were stony with determination.

“I think not,” was all he said, his other hand resting on his belt where his silver sword of Autumn was permanently strapped.

“Why?” Vassa huffed, feeling her heartbeat quicken in response to the intensity of Lucien’s gaze.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to let a queen open the door to an unexpected guest in the middle of the night, in the middle of a storm, whilst unarmed and being tracked by a Death God.”

Vassa’s wide eyes just drank him in, before looking down at where his hand was wrapped around her wrist. He dropped it instantaneously, as though she had burned him.

“So he does have balls,” Jurian cooed from behind them, but to Vassa, he was long forgotten.

“Fine,” Vassa took a step towards the Fae Lord, allowing her voice to drop a few octaves as she refused to break eye contact, “Go ahead.” She just about purred before turning and walking back to wait at the base of the stairs, missing the confused look on Lucien’s face as he turned to the door.

He should’ve been able to smell whoever was on the otherwise of the door, as well as the Belladonna’s which sat in clay pots on either side of the entrance. But all Lucien was getting, was the smothering dew of the rain, wet overturned earth and the neither-here-nor-there scent of furious winds. He could however hear a soft murmur of voices, from the pitch, female, before a second, shy knock beat on the wooden door. Two heartbeats, and that was it, all the information he could glean given the storm and inches of brick which separated him and his ‘guests’.

With his hand on the door’s iron handle, Lucien’s body felt alive and electric, like a drawn bow ready to fire. There was something in the air, a moment of calm before the storm. Without dwelling on it any longer, Lucien rose to is full height, one of his greatest assets even against other Fae, and yanked the door open.

“Hello?” A small, quiet voice. A voice that haunted his dreams.

***

Touch her. No, don’t touch her. She doesn’t want to be touched. But it is normal for people to touch, people touch all the time, a hand on a shoulder is no affront. Just touch her. But you have no reason to touch her.

That’s what Elain smelt like, or something similar, he supposed.

At first all Lucien could see of Elain was her big eyes, peeking over her purple cloak like beacons. But he’d recognise those eyes everywhere, sometimes it felt as though they were in his room, watching him. She seemed to still as he caught her eye, him standing in the warm orange light of the house, her shrouded in darkness and mystery.

At first all Lucien could see of Elain was her big eyes, peeking over her purple cloak like beacons. But he’d recognise those eyes everywhere, sometimes it felt as though they were in his room, watching him. She seemed to still as he caught her eye, him standing in the warm orange light of the house, her shrouded in darkness and mystery.

In response to the cold and the rain, Elain’s cheeks had flushed a healthy rose. Her eyes were wide, and Lucien could see how the water had darkened and elongated her lashes. If Elain were this beautiful when she was fae, Lucien couldn’t comprehend how magnificent she must’ve looked like a human. Surely there had been suitor after suitor, clawing for a minute of her time, or even a handkerchief or a pearl. Anything of hers to prove to themselves that such beauty was possible – that she was somehow real.

It wasn’t until Lucien had stuttered a meek ‘come in’ when he noticed the second bundle of a person over Elain’s shoulder. When they came into the light of the foyer, Lucien had recognised her as one of the shadow wraith’s that often accompanied Elain in the Night Court. Which one, he could not tell, but she was lesser fae, and lesser fae were always welcome in his home.

Lucien was sure he was in a state of shock, his ears were ringing faintly as Elain entered a polite discussion with Jurian who was smiling enough for the both of them. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, convinced that if he even blinked for too long then she’d disappear, back to the Night Court.

Lucien stood lamely to the side, his posture rigid. Vassa remained at the base of the stairs, whatever her countenance was to Elain’s arrival, he didn’t care for it. As Jurian chatted, Elain had pulled back her hood to reveal her hair of deep gold, soaked entirely, as though she had just arisen from a bath. Lucien dug his nails into his palm.

She was so beautiful, and it hurt to wonder how the Cauldron had ever, at any point of time, believed him worthy of being considered a perfect equal to such a creature.

“Ah, might this be the letter?” Lucien forced himself to tune into the conversation.

“Yes,” Elain’s gentle voice washed over him, lapping across his skin and like magic, it began to soothe him. “From the High Lady of the Night Court. I am to be staying with you for some time it seems, an extra hand to deal with the councils. If that would be alright?” Her voice, unlike Jurian’s or Vassa’s, was consistently soft, and in a strange way, it gave her an aura of power. As though she need not speak too loudly or rush her words, as she knew the world would be listening anyway.

“Ah,” Jurian plucked the sopping note from Elain’s palm, and though he really didn’t care, Lucien watched with intent at how Jurian avoided touching any part of Elain’s skin. Instead, he grabbed the letter’s corner and held it out as it dribbled rainwater across the red and gold carpet.

“Oh, um,” Elain seemed to flush, “I promise you it was a note from Feyre. The lettering might be a bit…illegible.”

“I think we can take your word, Ms Archeron.”

“Elain, please,” she whispered politely with a small curtsey that clearly came naturally. Lucien was so taken aback by Elain that he barely had time to recognise that Jurian was putting on a big show of good behaviour for his mate. If Elain had been anyone else, and if Lucien had been back in the Spring Court manor wearing his fox mask, he would’ve winked and told Elain that she was pretty enough to go where she pleased since kings would most likely fall to her feet anyway, but he just bit his tongue and cocked his head.

He needed to say something to her, he needed to be able to look into those eyes. What was she really doing here? Had Feyre truly sanctioned this? She’d said High Lady, not High Lord. Why had she come in the middle of the night? Why was she here, why was she really here?

“Let me take that for you,” was all he ended up saying, looking from Elain to her cloak then back to her eyes.

Some part of him hated seeing Elain in damp clothes with her hair dripping. It reminded him too much of the first time he’d seen her, as his mate, after she’d just been through the most traumatic experience of her life. He wished nothing more than to wrap her up into his arms and send wave after wave of warmth through her to dry her clothes, to make sure she was never cold and shivering again.

Elain seemed to stare at him for a moment, and Lucien wondered if she could possibly be just as taken aback by him as he was of her. How many of these moments, these little pauses between words, were genuine? And how much of it was the drive of the bond?

“Thank you,” She whispered, her hands reaching up to undo the clasp at her neck. As she did so, Lucien adverted his eyes. Something about seeing Elain remove an item of clothing, even a sopping cloak, felt too much like an invasion of privacy. And then she was holding her cloak out to him, and he just nodded at her, allowing his lips to turn up at the corners as he took the damp material, making sure not to accidentally touch her bare hands.

Behind Elain, the twin appeared to cock her head and glare at him, her message clear – ‘and what about me, huh?’ Lucien ignored her as he folded the cloak over his arm and took a step back towards the wall.

“Well, welcome to Lockhart Manor, Ms Archeron,” Vassa then announced herself as she strode forth from the base of the stairs, her posture stiff and elegant. This wasn’t Vassa speaking. This was a queen. “We have spare rooms in abundance which you’re more than welcome to settle into, since the maids are asleep right now please allow me to take you to your quarters.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” Elain nodded and smiled politely, a faint flush spreading on her cheeks, one that threatened to bring Lucien to his knees.

“No luggage, or are you not staying long?” Vassa inquired innocently enough, and had Lucien tore his eyes away from Elain for just a moment, he would’ve seen the slight glint in the queen’s eye.

“My sister will winnow me my bags tomorrow morning. You see, it was paramount we left the Night Court at a certain time. Unfortunately, this was our best window for travelling, but Feyre insisted you would be awake given…” given Vassa’s curse, her inability to see sunlight with human eyes.

“Are you in danger?” Lucien couldn’t bite his tongue as something began to rise within him – Terror? Anger? Worry? Elain’s big eyes drifted back to his, and once more she seemed to pause before speaking.

“No,” she breathed. Her voice was just a petal in the wind. “At least, only in danger of Nesta finding out I’m missing.”

“You didn’t tell her you were coming here?” If Lucien wasn’t mistaken, that might just be a slightly mischievous glint alight in Elain’s eye. The idea of Elain deceiving her viper of a sister to come across the world to stay with him, seemed far too good to be real, and Lucien couldn’t stop the small grin that pulled at his lips.

“Well, you must be tired after such a journey.” Lucien wished Vassa hadn’t spoken because it pulled Elain’s gaze from his. Lucien also suspected that little travelling had been done since Elain’s companion was a shadow wraith, and able to travel the world via the shades. “Please, let me show you to your room.”

Lucien hated to see her go, as she politely curtseyed to the queen before following her up the stairs and disappearing down a corridor which led to the western wings. It was only when she was, in fact, out of sight, that Lucien felt the reality of her presence collide with him like a pile of bricks.

Suddenly, he was breathing too quickly, no, too slowly. His body was overheating, and his heart was racing. All around him swirled her scent and every cell in his body was screaming at him to follow her up the stairs, to keep her in sight and never let her leave it. Keep her warm, keep her safe.

“Careful Luce,” Jurian’s voice called him back to reality, and he found Jurian peering at him with that god-damn, shit-eating, all-knowing grin, “She’s going to want that back,” was all he said as he nodded at the sopping cloak Lucien had clutched against his abdomen. The rainwater soaking through his linens, and making him shiver.

***

“You say your sister sent you?” Vassa was leading Elain and Nuala down a series of hallways. Elain liked the manor, one she would’ve adored when she was human. There was a crimson carpet that bled across the entire house, embellished with threads of sparkling gold. Deep brown wood covered the walls in panels, and there were candles here, not faelight, which cast the hallways in a warm, watery glow. It felt so familiar, in such a painful way.

“I wanted to be of some use to my sister following Briallyn, she thought I could be of use in working with the human councils given I…well, I…”

“Used to be human?” The queen’s voice was slightly monotonous, almost sounding as though she were somewhat bored, that these things happened all the time.

“Yes,” Elain nodded furiously. She’d been so caught up in the idea of seeing Lucien again that she’d practically forgotten Jurian and Vassa.

“Well, after a good night’s rest you might be able to catch me before sunrise and we can discuss where you’d be most useful.”

“Yes, thank you…what kind of work is there?”

“Meetings with councils and human lords, establishing positive relations between fae and humans which, considering humans were enslaved to the fae a few hundred years ago, isn’t the easiest relationship to manage. There’s also work to be done regarding the human armies, and not to mention the other human queens. We could also use with someone prepared to travel to establish trade routes between the mortal lands and the Spring Court, though, really all of this pales in comparison to cleaning up the mess Briallyn left behind.”

Elain blew out a breath. There was so much going on in the world, in the mortal lands alone, and her family had hidden it all from her. Or had they hidden her from the world? It didn’t matter, she was here now, and she was prepared to make herself as useful as possible.

“Where can I find you, to talk tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll most likely be in the dining room, taking breakfast with Lucien and Jurian.” The Queen swung a hard left and Elain stumbled slightly as she tried to follow.

“Okay…thank you, for everything.” Elain put on her best smile, but the queen wasn’t looking at her.

“You were quite sick the last time I saw you,” was all the queen said in response, and Elain felt as though ice had been poured down the back of her dress.

“Yes, I was,” Elain said quietly, her eyes meeting those of Nuala’s for a fleeting moment. God, where was her room?

“You’re better now?”

“Yes,” Elain practically whispered, not interested in being reminded of those torturous months post-Cauldron. Especially when, technically, she was still in them.

“Good,” Vassa said, and Elain couldn’t read her tone, but then, “Here are your quarters, Jurian’s rooms are just down the hall. If you wish to find me, or Lucien,” she paused slightly, “Then you can find our rooms in the East wing. Just ask a passing maid and they’ll lead you to us.”

Something ugly reared its head inside Elain as Vassa referred to her and Lucien as an ‘us’. And if Elain wasn’t mistaken, judging by the glint in Vassa’s eye, the language had been intentional. But Elain knew this game, knew how to play a courtier, how to manipulate a crowd with a smile.

Interesting, some part of Elain perked up. Maybe she’d gotten herself into more than she was expecting by coming to Lockhart Manor. Or maybe, it was a really, really good thing she’d come at all.

“Thank you,” was all Elain said, letting nothing pass her courtly smile. “For everything.”

***

Nuala had her own room but had stayed with Elain for a while after Vassa’s departure, perhaps reading the slight tension in the Acheron’s shoulders as she perched herself at her room’s vanity. If Elain was rational, then she would be obsessing over Vassa, of what she said and the look in her eye as she spoke. She would try and unfurl the dynamic she was to expect at breakfast tomorrow, when the world was still dark.

But she was thinking of him.

Lucien was different here, and Elain realised that she’d never seen him out of the Night Court. In fact, all at once the chaste meetings they’d had thus far seemed entirely, hilariously inadequate.

He was otherworldly, something about him seemed more fae than the others, even the Illyrian’s with their beautiful wings. Lucien was fire and light in form. His hair, no mortal could even imagine hair like that. In fact, Elain was convinced that even Feyre couldn’t capture it’s essence in her paintings. It was ever-changing, always moving and shifting colours in the light, almost as though it were alive. When she’d first seen him in the Night Court it had been a paler, autumnal orange with what seemed to be streaked with glittering gold. But here, by the candlelight of Lockhart manor, it was the red of rust and blood.

His skin was made of tan plains that rose and fell over the contours of his body in a way that reminded Elain of the deserts she’d seen drawn in adventure books. And then there was his impossible height, taller than everyone, including those back at the Night Court, only beating Cassian by an inch. He had a presence in a room like no other, he demanded intrigue and interest, with his mismatched eyes and brutal scar.

Maybe Elain had only been so nervous of Lucien because of that reason. Because she was used to seeing men who appeared to have not quite come into their bodies, their chins loose with excess skin, their hair wiry and coarse. And Lucien…Lucien looked as though he’d had hundreds of years to hone his body. Tall and sharp, standing with a poise that reminded Elain of a blade. His eyes alert and always moving, and a mouth that quirked to the side, as though there was always some dirty joke resting on the tip of his tongue.

Guilt moved through Elain in a wave. First, guilt over Graysen, then guilt over Azriel. Both men whom she’d also found to be beautiful, in their own ways. The innocence of Graysen, which in hindsight, proved to be a hilarious interpretation. The mystery of Azriel, the way that even when she was convinced he wanted her, she was never entirely sure.

Perhaps it wasn’t guilt that washed through Elain, but rather dread. Because here she was, again, and all she could hear was her mother’s voice echoing in her mind – Foolish girl. Foolish, foolish girl. Her mother would tell her that she never learns.

Or maybe she wouldn’t. She’d only admitted to herself that Lucien was attractive, his eyes searing, looking every bit of the fae prince as he swung open the door, backlit by gold and red light. And the bond was supposed to make her find him attractive, right? She could consult the book she’d brought later. Because that was the problem – what was real and what was the bond? Did Lucien truly care for her? Would he have even looked her way if the bond hadn’t existed? No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t be convinced. Lucien was suited to the bold courage of Nesta or even the quick-wit of Feyre. Elain was brutally soft. Men like Lucien didn’t care for the delicate - right?

“I’m sorry to take you from your sister, Nuala,” Elain whispered, as her friend began to comb through her dripping hair.

“It’s no problem,” Nuala’s voice was like velvet, and in the mirror, Elain could see her eyes were soft and her mouth turned up at the corners. “Sometimes getting away from family can be good for you.”

Elain hummed in response as Nuala began to knot her hair into a crown of elegant braids so that her hair would dry with a curl.

[mx-metronome]

Hello, skyblr! Finally coming out and sharing my ideas/theories for Sky! This post is INSANELY long, but I hope you’ll stick around for the entire deal! Spoilers under the cut, just to warn you! (also I refer to the elders by the names given to them by the skyblr community)

tl;dr: It’s suggested even by TGC’s concept art that each of the realms represents a stage of life. I’m gonna take it a step further and say that not only is that true to the individual, but also the civilization pictured throughout the game.

 We’ll start from the beginning of the game and establish some evidence as we go.

Part the First: The Isle of Dawn

Birth. Nascence. The first establishment of existence. The Isle of Dawn is aptly named, being the first point of contact of the people that fell from the stars. They came on ships of stone, riding the newborn winds into this uncharted land, hoping to eventually settle. Pictures drawn of light can be seen carved out of the walls, a primitive method of documentation akin to cave paintings in the earliest times of our own society.

Remnants of the ships can still be found throughout a number of the lands, but especially so here, buried in the sands. The spirits that can be found here are identified as voyagers and stargazers - sailors making land for the very first time.

The elder of the Isle, Daleth, carries a cane, which is significant enough to make up the isle’s constellation. Perhaps they are like a shepherd, guiding the people to their new beginnings. Perhaps the cane just looks really, really cool.

The emotes learned here are directional, like pointing and following.

Part the Second: The Daylight Prairie

They locate the prairie, which signifies childhood. The flowers and the butterflies of light are in abundance here, symbolizing the purity and innocence of youth  still untouched by society.

Here, the society is still in its infancy. The people see the untapped potential in this land, and they begin to plant their roots. Any notable settlements are still small and scattered, but supply lines are quickly established via boats carrying large pots across the clouds. The pots seem to be full of light, a valuable resource that several spirits here can be seen gathering and transporting.

The elder of the Prairie, Ayin, is also pictured as a worker of some kind, and they are depicted with a pot of light, hence the constellation’s shape. The transporting of light is critical to the continued development of the civilization.

The emotes learned here are very basic (like learning to wave hello) or childlike (like charming butterflies or laughing), among a few others.

Part the Third: The Hidden Forest

The forest is a symbol of adolescence: it’s a seeking of identity and all the growing pains it entails.

This light painting (the last one the can be found in the game’s progression [I think], another sign of the advancement of this people) shows the population carrying themselves deeper into areas of richer resources to further expand. And expand they do!

Their structures grow larger and more sturdy. Additionally, the doors through each wall are made of iron and small crystals of....blue light? A similar blue to that of the strange plants that can be seen growing everywhere. These plants of darkness seem to be appearing in larger numbers now: there were zero in the Isle of Dawn, and few enough in the Daylight Prairie that they’re easy to miss. Here they’re not rampant, but they are starting to command attention.

The darkness isn’t necessarily an absence of light, but rather an antithesis to light: the two are opposites but equally powerful in their own unique ways, and both can be seen in the forests’ constructions. There is also some evidence that darkness literally spreads through negative emotions such as hopelessness and sadness, as shown in the memories of the Tearful Light Miner:

While their crew is mining, there’s a cave-in, and all of their friends are injured by the falling rocks. One friend survives the initial collapse, but they are mortally wounded by the affair. This scene here could be their friend resigning to their unavoidable death, and their hopelessness manifests itself as a darkness plant growing out of them. A small detail which is only symbolically important, but tucks itself into the meta quite nicely later.

Returning to the story, the big theme here in the forest is industrialization. Lumberjacks, miners, prospectors, and pioneers can all be found here, striking their claim on this new soil and its resources aplenty. Structures are larger and more numerous, but at the cost of deforestation and putting a lot of holes in the cliffs for mining. Butterflies are not as common now, so alternative sources of light had to be found (more discussion about the harvesting of light from the light creatures can be found here in this post, and it’s this post that in fact inspired this entire post of my own).

Both light and darkness are being harvested from the earth (and possibly even synthesized, if the negative emotions becoming dark plants is taken literally) and fashioned into tools and machinery. The elder of the Forest, Teth, is a blacksmith, and the constellation is a hammer and anvil, a testament to the people’s industrial revolution. Their temple itself is a massive piece of machinery, an impressive feat of engineering only indicative of a civilization accelerating its growth and advancing towards a golden age.

Coincidentally, this oncoming of darkness is also reflected in the emotes learned here, such as apologetic, anger, worry, and crying.

Part the Fourth: The Valley of Triumph

The Valley of Triumph symbolizes young adulthood and is the pinnacle of this society’s achievements. Buildings and structures here are HUGE: entire cities, castles, and the technological advancements are like nothing anyone’s ever seen.

Here the populace has put less focus into expansion and more into the development of its culture. The architecture is much more colorful and stylized. Sporting events such as the races down the slopes or through the clouds are means of entertainment. The citadel’s orrery could indicate a deep understanding of astronomy and mathematics. 

There are twin elders in the Valley: Sah and Mek, and they’re athletes! Whatever sport it is they play involves the use of long sticks, and it’s their two crossed sticks that make up the constellation, emphasizing the establishment of life’s greater pleasures and a thriving culture. A lot of the spirits found here are either athletic in some capacity or are out here living their best life.

The emotes learned here are of pride and athletic ability. Cheering is also noteworthy here, as happiness and enjoyment are highlighted in this realm.

The most curious part of this realm is that there are no darkness plants to be found, and I think the reason for that is that the populace is so swept up in its shows and studies that it’s distracted from its inevitable collapse that will soon follow. Perhaps these people don’t realize what is coming. So what is coming?

Part the Fifth: The Golden Wasteland

The Golden Wasteland symbolizes late adulthood, maybe even a sort of midlife crisis. It’s in this stage that the society begins to break down. The reasons for the upheaval are part of the game’s unsolved mystery, but there are some details of note to be highlighted in this realm.

The structures here are the biggest we’d seen so far, and many of them are a lot like strongholds: Huge, thick walls; pipes of awesome size; and what used to be giant columns dot the sandy wastes. The water is polluted beyond purification; bones of large, long dead creatures are scattered across a hunting ground; and not only are darkness plants in abundance here, but an entirely new embodiment of darkness is also introduced: the krill. 

Krill are a curious creature: not much, if anything, is known about their origins, but their presence as active seekers and destroyers of light could symbolize war and hatred, as an angry or upset individual would try to drag down others from feelings of happiness to the alternative. It is easier to succumb to the darkness and fall from light than it is to climb back out, and it appears that’s what this civilization has done.

In their pride and vanity, political disagreement had sprung into full-scale battles and skirmishes. Barricades pepper the land, especially just outside the temple. The people resorted to weaponizing darkness and blotted out light altogether (notice how fewer candles can be found here than in other realms). The world drowned in despair which only spread the darkness faster. It was like a nuke that left fear and anger in its wake with no chance for light to flourish again. All that remains now are the skeletons of stone and bone, memories of a dying people.

The elder here, Tsadi, is a warrior of renown strength, proficient with the constellation’s shape: a spear and shield. They likely fought along the barricades just outside the gates, desperate to protect any survivors that made it inside.

The spirits here are fighters, survivors, people that are struggling to stay alive in the chaos, and their emotes match that. 

So, after this civilization burned itself to the ground, what remained?

Part the Sixth: The Vault of Knowledge

The Vault of Knowledge symbolizes old age. With no more strength and no more people, all that remains is the collection of knowledge they had accumulated throughout their history, from the Isle to the Wasteland, and any lessons that could be learned from it all.

The realm itself is one giant structure: a tall tower packed to the brim with knowledge stored as light. Light is in abundance here: it fills the room as you climb it, and memories of mantas and other light creatures dwell within here as well. There are little bits of buildings, floating platforms, and large skeletons on display, almost like a museum of the world that once was. 

The elder here is Lamed, and the Vault’s constellation resembles a codex: one of the many lanterns found throughout the vault where texts are kept. In their cutscene, they appear tired and hopeless. The Vault is all that’s left between the source of the darkness and the rest of the world.

Scholarly spirits walked the halls and recorded as much history as they could before they too were wiped out by the impending darkness, vainly hoping that their mark on the world would be left behind in the stories they told so that they might not be forgotten. The emotes learned here are of praying and meditation, strongly suggesting the theme of pausing and reflecting on all that had transpired.

It is here that your journey begins to come to an end as you reflect on the realms that you’ve seen and the people you watched rise and fall. They weren’t forgotten because you witnessed it all. They succeeded, in a way.

The Vault of Knowledge is unique in that at the top of the level, not just one elder statue sits, but all SIX are there. This realm isn’t a part of the society’s story: it IS the story. 

As you progress through the level, the constellations are revealed to you, one by one.

In the cutscene where all six elders bow to you and thank you for guiding the spirits home, a song plays. What’s the official title of that song in the soundtrack?

“The Story So Far.”

Lamed and the other elders told you their story. About the rise and fall of their people, blinded by ambition and by a thirst for both light and darkness. In their attempt to balance the two powers, darkness ultimately won, and now no one remains.

Only a vault. The room of six statues is a new addition, as they all seem cleanly cut and without any wear. They were built intentionally, shortly before the darkness destroyed everyone, as a means to tell that story to whomever may find them.

This was the old room. Where Lamed’s statue once stood is now an empty pedestal. The light is now gone, and the soft blues and blacks of the rest of the level are now a dark, dull gray. The only decent source of light is from the occasional flashes of lightning from the storm beyond. The rest of the Vault was sealed off to protect its contents and its people who all died within, leaving this top chamber to be consumed.

Finale: The Eye of Eden

The most mysterious of the seven realms, Eden symbolizes death, an inevitability for all. I don’t have a lot to go off of for this part, but the red diamond that rests at the top of the mountain seems to be neither light nor darkness. It’s emitting a ray of golden light up to the heavens, but it’s also showering the mountain in a dark storm of rocks. So, which is it?

The scene shown from the Vault cutscene depicts the mountain with the diamond at the top. There also sits a monarch of some kind underneath it. Is this king the one that weaponized darkness and brought the fall of his people? There’s a lot of speculation behind this one.

I believe the diamond is death itself. Death is the most powerful tool a king can have, for there’s no threat to your power if all your competition is in the ground. But a warmonger invites violence to his doorstep, and he and all his people perished as a result.

But the diamond itself is not to be feared. Yes, it’s spouting darkness across the land, and that’s all a mortal will ever see. But on the other side of that dark storm is the beam of pure light shooting into the heavens, something only the deceased will embrace and understand. Death is an ending. Death is a release.

The spirits all needed a little light to find their way to that other side. So you lit them with your candle. You taught them how to feel love and happiness again, something that widespread darkness took from them. 

And when you fell and collapsed under the darkness yourself, some other sky kid came along and granted you their winged light so you may pass on too.

And you and the spirits, now freed from the suffering of darkness by way of just a taste of light, returned to the stars from whence you came.

....Uhh, the end? That’s my super hot take? Add to it if you like?

[galesh]

Wish fulfillment au of Severus who was born in Albus' Dumbledore's time. I just wanted to post it as a reply on a discord server but then it got out of hand. So

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

- Two clever swots duking it out... in academics!

- Debating each other of old spells and whether or not they're dark and the librarian jinxing them out of the library with hexes for being too loud

- Albus and Sev rubbing their stung bums and arguing about the hexes the librarian used

- Albus and Sev both discovering they're poor halfbloods and railing against the arswholes in charge who think they can sting their bums and get away with it

- Them stinging each other's bums because it's a fascinating body part and maybe rubbing them with a different set of hands because maybe it'll help, and they're experimental

-Albus viewing the fascinating kid with so much dark potential with new eyes.

-Sev keeping an eye out for the twinkly eyed twit because it's unnerving, really, and because he always found the goodness in others fascinating. He doesn't believe he can emulate it, but maybe some would seep through him in osmosis. That's what that muggle book said anyway

- His ma always said he had a thing for redheads. He's starting to suspect her of practicing black magic

- Albus and Sev working on potions and transfig together because none of them can tell the other they're bloody brilliant and that they're fascinated, and could we just get to stinging bums and rubbing out the soreness please

- Sev visiting the Dumbledore's on summer break because his father is dead and his mother as good as, meeting the creepy girl creature because he's nosy and of course he'd look at the one room Kendra told him not to

- Abe running to Ariana's room because she screams bloody murder. It's only when he gets there that he realises that that bloody snake they let into their house is being accosted by a happily shrieking Arianna who wants to meet this strange new black haired scarecrow her brother likes

- The older one

- Sometimes, Arianna suspects

- Sev being horrified by Ariana's sad tale, and not wanting her to waste away, working with Albus to make sure she can get out

- Abe (begging to) help them because he really wants to, and because he doesn't trust the snake

- Sev learns Abe can't bloody spell after the third time.he has to squint if the bottle has fluxweed or filchweed (Dyslexia is not recognised yet, but it will be, in the muggle world) amd tries to help. It's more insulting than helpful, but he tries!

- Albus feverishly searching for a way to fix what those muggle boys and their mother's imprisonment and his neglect have wrought. Searching in the darkest grimoires, because really, what is honor and goodness if it can't even help his sister?

- Ariana getting her father's silver signet, carved with the runes of protection, family, forgiveness and renewal. They can't fix her magic, but the magic she once loved has caused her loved ones only harm, and really, it's time to stop listening to the voice inside her, who wants to rip her mother to shreds and burn the whole world down

- In the end it's abe, who comforted her when her mum looked at her with hate and Albus ashamed who puts her ring on as she says the words the runes describe. It's hard to forgive her mother and those muggle boys, but Arianna thinks they've suffered enough (it'll be years later that she realises that she left one person, but as she watches her daughter's delightful coo as she Dan's her nose with a glowing goden finger, she is only thankful that her lack of forgiveness didn't take all her magic away).

- She kisses her brother-in-law to be on the cheek, as is only proper for a member of family.

(Ariana has a very feeble grasp on social niceties. She tries, okay! You try learning everything from books while trapped in a cottage like a demented princess, with a brother who even she knows has an unhealthy fascination with goats who'd talk to her normally)

(Arianna's husband and her daughter, who she names Severus --because every universe must have a second child with a severusly controversial name -- would really come to fear her social skills, or lack thereof. Severus blames her godfather and her uncle with a the raging hate of a 10 year old who's been denied Uncle Sev's sweets)

- Sev and Albus competing for the top spot in the classes with professors and the bottom in the classes without

- Albus meeting Gellert in the evening he's supposed to leave for France and noticing the same dark charm. Severus noticing, but wanting to taint it than emulate it

- A black owl pooping on Gellert's golden hair because he Does Not Share!

- Albus sharing his plans to Change The World which would kill a girl with beautiful, uncontrolled magic and put a vengeful father in a prison of his own despair

- Sev agreeing to them and adding some rather inventive and cruel revenges he'd have on the Wankers who disowned his mother for following her heart

- Albus crossing out those points with eyes that twinkle in gentle admonishment, because really Severus, where would you even get a fully grown basilisk, and ignoring the calculating glitter he gets in return

- Abe following the idiots because Ari orders him to help the idiots and he can deny her nothing

- Gellert becoming a Light wizard after being at the wand end of a particularly dark spell (they teach *that* at Hogwarts, the light school!?!?!?!?) By a vengeful gargoyle after he drunkenly kisses*Bruder* Dumbledore

(years later, Headmaster Dippet can't figure out why his newest Dada teacher is so militant about students knowing everything about Dark magic and why some magics should never be studied, or why flinches everytime he sees a mistletoe. He has enough experience at 300 Not To Ask)

- Albus learning the most beautiful healing spell at the hands of a scowling-dark-phoenix with moist, angry black eyes after the 12th use of a dragon's claw soon after he discovered the 12th use of their blood

(Fawkes could never forgive Severus Snape for stealing it's thunder. Also he smells owl. They're the worst!)

-Severus stealing the Flamels' thunder by creating a philosophers stone after being at their home for a month.

(Perenelle suspects it's because Nicholas, who can be really old fashioned about these things, forbade their apprentice and that brilliant boy with no thoughts from rooming together)

- Severus lacing Albus' lemon drops with the elixir of life because clearly, that imbecilic martyr thinks dragon claw wounds are amusing

- Albus lacing Severus' tea with it because it would be such a horrible thing to live alone

(or without the one person who matters, no offence to his family. Oh, alright Abe, you're definitely not it!)

(the elixir of life prepared yearly mysteriously dissappears into tea and lemon drops. Albus stops worrying over Severus getting killed by vampires while he gets their teeth in exchange of galleons like a demented tooth fairy, and Severus stops worrying about Albus getting nicked by antsy Dragons or Phoenixes or Nifflers, or whoever Albus scraps with in his spare time)

- Albus putting his demented convoluted plans in motion by destroying wizarding currency through inflation. It somehow leads to a goblin revolution, equal rights for magical creatures, and the adoption of muggle currency. Don't ask

(Rumour has it that Gellert, Wizarding Britain's champion one look at the the scowling face of a Severus Snape and proposes negotiations.

Muggle currency was great, really. Made mathematical sense, easier to handle, and twinkly eyed not quite evil overlords can't dependably reproduce all the identifiers. They hope

Quite coincidentally, as Severus will assure you, all the pureblood families --including the Princes, coincidentally-- lose all their accumulated money in the resulting changeover.)

- Albus rules everything from behind the iron curtain with gentle fists and an open smile. Everyone learns to agree with him because behind him stands the spectre of DEATHOMgWatdidyoudo that you want to always keep happy)

- An excited Tom Riddle learns about magic from a charming Professor who's really interested in how he speaks, and who agrees that muggles are awful but keep it down will you?

- Tom Riddle learns to confide in and trust the person who introduced him to the magical world; and tells him when he accidentally discovers the chamber of secrets while hissing open at one of the taps in the girls loo that just wouldn't dispense water (he was under a lot of pressure okay! No, he's not a creep!)

- Tom Riddle grows up to be a politician with a particularly hard view on those muggles. Being backed by the Headmaster of Hogwarts helps. The society has made great strides in the concept of equality and democracy however, and most creatures really don't like him for some insane reason. Albus Dumbledore wins the elections by a landslide again. Tom is tenacious, and plots for when he'd get the position after the old man dies

(On his deathbed, Professor Emeritus of Hogwarts, Professor Tom, curses todgy old men with unnaturally long lifespans)

-Harry Potter, who grew up loved and a headmaster who didn't want to train him in any way, shape, or form (Harry was glad. Headmaster Grindenwald was nice and all, but he really didn't want to know all about the Dark arts and why not to use them kplzthnx). He went on to work at the ministry because his mother instilled in him values of fairness, kindness, and Get Out The House And Go To Work You Bum!

(He named

- Ariana's first kid is named after Abe. Her second is called Severus. Severus being a girl, never forgives her, and years later, when her son is born, names him Ariana with a vindictive gleam in her eyes.

(Ariana never really learned a the social niceties. They're horribly ineffective, and Abe tells her she's always charming in any case)

(Severus Smith is comforted by the fact that her godfather is a immortal wizard who gives her the best sweets)

- Severus and Albus never really fall out of love, even though they fall out of bed many times. They are a different breed of men, really. Eternal devotion means eternal devotion, as they find out. The Flamels' are happy they finally get to go on what the muggles call double dates.

- They also never stop stinging each other on the bum, but that is a rather more mature tale.

[queenofthefullmoon]

An exhaustive list of Dark Souls 3 bosses I would or would not date

Iudex/Champion Gundyr

We’re starting off this list with a strong yes. Our boy Gundyr has had a hard, difficult life, and he deserves some good company. He’s tall, strong, and I trust him to protect us as we set a lovely camp site outside of the fire link shrine.

Vordt of the Boreal Valley

Vordt is big and he is feral which are truly the only two qualities I look for in a man. Together we’d be unstoppable. I mean, think about how easy it would be to go around with him: just climb on his back and let the rodeo begin, baby. This argument alone should be enough to convince you that Vordt is a suitable boyfriend, but here’s another one: if you get too hot in the summer, worry fucking not for your gigantic man can hold his equally gigantic hammer over you and cover you with snow like an italian man covering his pasta with parmesan.

Cursed Rotted Greatwood

Now while I’m certain it would be a perfect partner for some people, the Cursed Rotted Greatwood isn’t for me. For one, I am not fan of curses, or rot, or weird sticky balls, or strange orange acid, or pale white and slightly viscous hands bursting through a living tree. Secondly, I feel like the crowd of Hollows who group up around the tree would be a big impediment to our intimacy, and I’m not ready to be the mother of 20 Hollows.

Crystal Sage

No offense but you’d be an idiot for not wanting to date the Crystal Sage. All wrapped up in one package, you get a super competent sorcerer bf, who wears the coolest hat in the galaxy and an equally cool cape, and who overall looks like the upgraded version of a plague doctor. In addition to that he also has a pretty rapier so you can both engage in some sparring (which we all know is the most romantic couple activity).

Deacons of the Deep

Probably one of the worst options on the list, they’re all crusty, rotting men moaning around a biggass coffin. There are many technical questions. If I dated a deacon, would I have to date all of them? Can we go out on dates or are they obligated to stay next to the coffin at all times? Can I even date them at all?? Not that I would, because I have standards. The only pro to entering this relationship(s?) would be that I’d probably get one of their robes for free, but the cons are so numerous that I’d rather buy it myself.

Abyss Watchers

Let’s be real and honest even if it hurts. Would I date an Abyss Watcher? Yes. Maybe I’d even date two. However, would an Abyss Watcher date me? No, because they’re all in love with Artorias, and I can’t blame them for that.

Old Demon King

At first I considered dating the Old Demon King like a Russian Instagram model dates an old, rich American man: with a great deal of fake love but above all great patience in order to be the only person on the will. But then I thought about it more, and what does the Old Demon King have to offer, really? A big firework show that will leave him exhausted like the old creature he is, and maybe some pyromancies. Truly, it is not worth it, especially since I’d have to take residence where he lives, in a big old room filled with the corpses of his kin.

High Lord Wolnir

I’ve got nothing against Wolnir personally, but I have no interest in skeletons, nor in his army of skeleton children. As stated above I’m not ready to be a mother. I feel like if we got in an argument and he sighed, he would poison me with his awful breath and I would die a horrible death. Also, living on the brink of the Abyss doesn’t appeal to me that much. However I would like Wolnir to be a good friend I can talk jewelry with because let’s be honest, the man (skeleton?) is blinged the fuck out even in death and I respect that.

Yhorm the Giant

Yes, I would date Yhorm. He was nothing but a sweet, misunderstood giant who always tried to get people to trust him and he convinced me. I would put my life in his big hands. Think of the possibilities. Just like with Vordt he could carry you everywhere but in a less reckless way if you prefer proper manners. You’d never have to worry about not seeing anything at a concert. Also, may I add that waiting for you to show up while sitting on his biggass throne is an absolute power move? Yhorm is a Lord of Cinder, but above all, a Lord of this heart.

Pontiff Sulyvahn

Would I date him because of his appealing aesthetic? Yes. Would I date him for anything else? No. Sulyvahn is absolutely terrifying, completely unhinged in the most frightening way, which is that he doesn’t look bat shit crazy. I could be thinking that everything is going well in our relationship then suddenly he’d lock me in a dungeon then would feed me to his weird friend because I put a fork in the knife drawer. He could pretend to propose and give me a weird fucked up ring with his eye in it and the next thing I know I’d be running in a field on all fours. I don’t trust like that.

Aldritch, Devourer of Gods

I’m so sad about Aldritch because literally everything about him is completely unappealing, unacceptable, unnatural, unholy, abhorrent, but he has the delicate and beautiful face of Gwyndolin. While our lovely Gwyndolin looks gorgeous as ever it doesn’t make up for the fact that Aldritch devoured people and probably wouldn’t find love to be a good reason to not eat his partner. The only reason I can find to have a friendship (not even a romantic relationship) with him is if you really like experimenting with cooking and you really, really need someone to taste your inventions.

Dancer of the Boreal Valley

I feel attraction, which means that just like any other being who feels attraction, I would date the Dancer. She is beautiful, graceful, a bit feral, and would not hesitate to put a flaming knife to my throat, which is the description of my dream woman. Imagine walking the streets with her, trying to hold her hand while it dangles 3 feet above you and she insists on holding her sword, actually, so she might slay anyone who tries to approach you, which she communicates through icy breaths and murmurs. The date of a lifetime.

Oceiros, the Consumed King

Another awful choice on this list, Oceiros is RABID and also, as far as we know, still a married man. You really want to date a man that hasn’t even gone through his divorce but already looks like this? Me neither. I’m already not big on dragon fucking but the fact that he’s all viscous and has weird growths all over him is not helping. Also, he has children, and we know how I feel about that — although, given how he treats them, he probably won’t have kids very soon (too far?).

Ancient Wyvern

So I’ve stated that I’m not very big on dragon fucking. With that said, do I think the wyvern is sexy and beautiful? Absolutely so. You’re probably like « Blue you’re sending mixed signals, are you gonna date the lizard or not? » and to that I say, date? Perhaps not. I would however like to form a lifelong bond with this wonderful force of nature and fight by its side, live a long and fulfilling life travelling along with it, only to die at the same time atop the tallest mountain in the world, where our skeletons will be discovers hundreds of years in the future by brave explorers, who will confirm that the legendary songs that were written about us were in fact not just a myth.

Nameless King

You’ve just read what I said about the wyvern. I feel like the Nameless King really understands me and would respect me for that. We could bond over our love of dragons and other flying scaly beasts and perhaps share some chaste kisses while soaring the sky on our companions. It’s nice to date someone who loves pets as much as you. I feel like he would be a fun guy to hang around in general, maybe he’d let you braid his hair or try on his crown. He can arrange personalized fireworks shows for you with his lightning powers. I don’t think you’d ever be bored around him.  

Dragonslayer Armor

Dating an empty suit of armor has never bothered me (see: ds2 Ruin Sentinels), however I have beef with the dragonslayer armor. Is it a beautiful armor? Perhaps a bit worn off, but the reply remains affirmative. However, it is controlled by Pilgrim Butterflies, which basically means I’m dating one to multiple of these things in the shape of an armor, and I’ve gotta confess that I’m not down for that.

Lorian Older Prince and Lothric Younger Prince

Here comes the delicate moment where we have to make a choice without offending anyone. I personally, speaking for myself, in my own opinion, would rather date Lorian. Reason: he is big, strong, and a bit rabid, which I’ve made very clear is my type. I don’t dislike Lothric, but I feel like we’d be better off as best friends who have a really snarky group chat where we shit talk the entire kingdom. That’s pretty good because if I even just slightly disliked Lothric I’m pretty sure Lorian would sense it and would not hesitate to murder me on sight.

Champion’s Gravetender and Champion Greatwolf

Well the full name is just a formality here, I’m not completely insane so I don’t want to date this rabid wolf. I feel like the Champion’s Gravetender is just a normal dude who’s a bit in over his head and it’s not his fault but he just seems a bit boring compared to all my other options. Instead of a date I think he’d be more of an awkward flirt I had when I was bored and then I came to my senses but didn’t know how to disengage, but in the end it worked out because he was more interested in his work anyway.

Sister Friede and Father Ariandel

Again a choice has to be made and I will have to be predictable and say I’d date Elfriede. Just like Dancer she’s what the woman of my dreams is made of. She’s graceful and could easily take my life and I think it’s awfully sexy of her to be like that. I think I’d be accepted into the family pretty easily, which is important since Father Ariandel cares about Friede so much. I’d go visit him sometimes, play chess with him, bring him his flail, normal interactions with your girlfriend’s dad.

Soul of Cinder

I’m gonna be a tiny bit freaky here and say I’d date the Soul of Cinder. Dating it is just like opening a Kinder Surprise egg, you never know what you’re gonna get (sorry Americans for excluding you here). That makes life exciting and doesn’t let routine stall your relationship. Every day you can wake up with the question « What weapon will my darling walk around with today? The flaming sword, or the sorcery staff? » and be surprised by the answer. Truly ideal, but I understand it’s not for the faint of heart.

Demon Prince

I’m gonna go with a maaaaaaybeeeee? leaning towards no. I mean yes, the Demon Prince is a weird fleshy flaming demon, and that may be a bit gross, but I’ve gotta admit I admire his style, the drama of it all. The care he puts into his entrance, the attitude in his moves. If we don’t date I’d at least want to be friends so he can teach me his ways.

Darkeater Midir

I have very intense and contradictory feelings towards Midir. In one hand, holy shit, absolutely epic dragon, the spirit of companionship is growing in me. On the other hand, this beast is RABID and pretending I could tame him is foolish, and pretentious. I guess in the end the answer remains that I don’t date dragons, I just want to adopt them as my extremely exotic pets.

Halflight, Spear of the Church

Yeah I’d date Halflight, I know it’s the easy answer but look at him. I mean shit he’s walking around like a little thotty with his shirt open and you mean to tell me I’m not supposed to wanna date him because he looks pretty much like a regular dude? My boy Halflight WANTS me to date him or else he would not show up with his tiddies out to a sword fight, which as an activity already has enough erotic implications on its own.

Slave Knight Gael

I’m gonna say it unashamedly and I’ll say it again: I would date Gael. He’s been nothing but helpful and when he tries to attack you it’s to help his little lady that he’s adopted as his niece. We love a chaotic parental figure. Maybe he’s a tad bit old and dirty but there’s nothing a good bath can’t fix and I’m sure he’d appreciate having someone taking care of him for once. Again, he’s got that slightly unhinged quality to him that makes him delightful. When I walk around with my partner I want us to instill both fear and fascination in people which we would be able to accomplish perfectly well.

Dark Souls 1: Remastered date list // Dark Souls 2: Scholar of the First Sin date list

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Eating Everything.”

I am working my way through the list of suggestions that you guys left me, so this is the first installment from a Anon ask. I don’t know if this is what you wanted to read or where expecting to read, but this is what I came up with.

Intergalactic Journal of Biology and Medicine

Humans have one of the most resilient digestive tracts in the known universe. As an Omnivorous predatory species, humans are capable of digesting muscle , fat, carbohydrates (simple and complex), proteins and fibers taking many nutrients and extreme energy from them. Their use of carbs gives us an explanation as to why humans are so powerful because they require a lot of energy to use their bodies. Additionally, the stomach acid of a human is capable of digesting, non-food items though no nutrients can be pulled from it.

Generally speaking, the rule is that if you can eat it, a human can eat it, though, whether it is to their taste or not is questionable.

Furthermore, the human body reactivly ejects toxic substances once detected, so within reason, humans are capable of trying many foods without the negative consequences many of us would associate with sticking foreign substances in our mouth.

There GA intergalactic summit was held, on what was Earth time, November 5th, 4022. All members of the GA council were expected to attend, or at least a representative for every species in the known universe. At this time that would include the Rundi, Gibb, Tesraki, Bran, Vrul, Drev, etc. but worst of all, the humans. 

The Rundi steward, a class of government official who was specifically tasked with dealing with the drudgery of bureaucracy, was not pleased in the slightest. It was primarily his job to put everything together, and depending on how well he did, it could either make or break him in social hierarchy of his species. The Rundi were a primarily governmental planet, everything they did was based upon a structure of hierarchy and rule. Government was the greatest form of service, and Anarchy wasn’t even an afterthought in philosophical debate. The rundi were not capable of anarchy.

It was a planet of politicians in some form or another, every interaction had political underleanings, and their speech was always heavily guarded. For this reason, the Rundi had been the first in suggesting an intergalactic system of government. The terasaki had agreed only upon realizing they would be tasked with overseeing economics, but had benefited from the Rundi system of government seeing as they tended a bit towards social anarchy, a thought that the Rundi had seen as horribly barbaric, especially since their system was based primarily on the equal distribution of goods to support government structure. 

The Vrul had only agreed to join based on their own personal interest in survival. Generally they wanted nothing to do with intergalactic politics and would have been happy to maintain their own peaceful homeworld, but the introduction of other species into the galaxy had offered a great threat to them, and they had decided, out of necessity, to join the GA as being friends with the other species was in their own self interest. In turn that had meant sending their very, very skilled workers to help the rest of the galaxy, and that included their scientists and their doctors, and their mechanics.

And then of course there was the issue of the Drev and the humans, both scarily similar in social hierarchy and temperament. The Drev were warlike and honor bound, but once choosing a leader, they had been surprisingly willing to join in as long as they were given the opportunity to participate in any and all armed conflict that happened to take place across the galaxy. 

The humans….. The humans were another story. There was no one characteristic that helped to identify their motivations. The humans themselves were well versed in war, politics, economics, and science, but they did everything to the extreme. Where the Drev practiced war for honor,when humans waged war, they did it to kill, while the Rundi maintained government and played games within their own circles, the humans played against each other often mixing war and government into one. Their economic practices varied widely, but their current system played for keeps and focused on the greatest accumulation of wealth possible far beyond what the Tesraki did. Then when it came to science, they never considered WHETHER they should do something, but only if they COULD do something. 

And now here the steward was forced into the position of setting up this summit for all the different types of species. The catering alone had been a complete nightmare, and he had been forced to ship different sorts of food for thousands of miles in order to feed everyone in the proper manner. There were some species he did not have to worry about, like the Vrul, who were more plant based and so did not eat, but there were others, and that included the rundi and the Tesraki, who had every strict diet consisting of only very specific foods to eat. He found that he could tack the Drev onto some other species, seeing as their bodies were capable of metabolizing almost any plant as long as it retained a similar structure to human plants and fruit.

However, the humans themselves were the hardest part, because the range of food was so wide, he could hardly determine what was going to work and what was going to be a massive disaster. He honestly didn’t know, different sources said different things, and he couldn't bare to think about putting MEAT on the table…. That was just against his constitutions.

In fact, he was scrambling right up until the council had convened for the evening, and the mass tide of bodies came pouring into the room filling the vaulted ceiling with rockus chatter in dozens of different languages.

He could hear the humans coming a mile off.

The humans and the Rundi had a similar register when it came to hearing, and humans were known to be able to mimic Rundi vocalizations to some degree simply because they generally tended to communicate in deep grunts, hums and guttural vocalizations. The humans, wlel their language was just as varied as their culture clicking, hissing, snapping, humming and grunting filling the air with discordant and somehow, rhythmic quality..

Their presence turned heads.

They walked with the Drev delegation, which was no surprise to anyone. The humans had been unable to send their usual representative due to a social disagreement between earth and its neighboring sister, Mars. So who had they gone and sent….

Them….

The rundi Steward knew all about them….. Crewmembers of the UNSC Harbinger, the widest ranging vessel in the entire galaxy, and home to a crew that was indisputably certifiable. They were the most reckless, most dangerous, and most terrifying amalgamation of creatures in the galaxy somehow including one Drev, and a rather out of place Vrul whose behavior suggested he had caught whatever brain malady had overcome the humans, and was just as insane as they were.

He cringed horrifically at the sight of them.. Humans were a destructive force, and were known to cause chaos and mayhem wherever they went, even at the best of times, so this was bound to get interesting.

The delegates were seated, and the Steward welcomed them with gracious words of introduction he had spent months preparing. It was a very political thing for him to do, and included subtle compliments to all delegations involved, laid down some ground rules but made sure not to undermine the authority of the people he was speaking too..

However, to the humans, the attempt was obviously heavy handed brown nosing, though none of the other delegations seemed to notice.

He invited them in for refreshments and encouraged discussion between the parties.

Of course, the humans weren’t exactly ones to pass up the idea of food and were some of the first to the table examining the contents with great interest even the food that was not theirs. They seemed very amused watching the other delegations pick up their specific food and then move away to sit.

“What is this.” one of the humans commented holding up a rather stringy green tube that wriggled and squirmed in his hand, “Are these worms?”

One of the Tesraki looked over, “No, it’s a Cavestalk, a kind of plant. Probably not to your taste, they are known to be poisonous to other species. In other words, not human food.”

The human raised an eyebrow, “Buddy, humans are the sharks….. Or wait…. Maybe that's the goats of the universe, we can eat anything within reason, and even a couple of things outside of reason if given enough time.”

The Tesraki made a sort of shrug and wave with its large ears and then walked away. The steward watched the humans with a worried expression. It wouldn’t due to allow the humans to make themselves sick on his watch, but it seemed as if that idea was only becoming more and more likely as the humans poked and prodded at the leftovers of other species hardly bothering with the food that had been laid out for them…. Mostly strange fibrous plant materials.

And that is when it came, “I dare you to eat it.” 

The two humans locked eyes, one still holding the wriggling Cavestalk, “What.”

“I said, I dare you to eat it.” The human stuck out his chin at the other human in a primitive position of posturing, “How much do I get if I do.”

There was a moment of thought before, “Twenty credits. I’ll give you twenty credits to eat it.”

“What happens if it poisons me?”

There was a hand wave, “We have a doctor on board, he can just pump your stomach…. Chicken.”

A moment of silence passed between them, and the Rundi steward began moving towards them to stop something horrible he felt was about to happen. He wasn’t fast enough, and before he knew it, the human had thrown back his head and dropped the wriggly green thing into his mouth swallowing it whole like an alligator or a snake. 

People around looked on in somewhat fascinated disgust as the predator’s throat bobbed and he smacked his lips making a face, “Eh, I can still feel it moving…. Eh.” He paused, “Though, taste wise it isn’t so bad kind of like a wiggly asparagus.” After a moment his eyes narrowed, and he smacked his lips again, “Spicy asparagus, uh, that’s really really weird.” 

He reached the table just as the Vrul came running up shoulders squared in a very un-vrul way, “HE LITERALLY JUST SAID IT WAS POISONOUS TO OTHER SPECIES, AND NOW YOU’RE EATING IT! AND YOU OVER THERE.” A human looked up at him from where it had been prodding the Drev coiltree berries, “GET THOSE OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!”

They had attracted the attention of some of the closer tables now who were looking on in entertained confusion and worry.

A human waved a hand, “It’s alright Doc, we have you don’t we”

“I AM NOT THE MAGIC CURE FOR NEUROTOXIN.”

Another shrug, “Well it’s a good thing that I’ll throw up before anything really bad happens.” 

The rundi steward tried to intervene as the humans began prodding through the other food, “Drev can eat human fruit, so I bet these things are like fruit.” one of them pointed out popping the berries into his mouth and chewing with a contemplative look on his face, “Not bad.”

“Please, please, if you would remain within your own food groups.” The Rundi begged. HE was now realizing he should have written up some legal documents to avoid litigation if the humans were to be damaged on their property, but now was too late.

A human waved him off, “Don’t worry, everyone else is done eating, besides.” He Pointed towards the human food, “That's literally a pile of lettuce, I am a man, not a horse.”

“Horses don’t eat lettuce, also that’s not lettuce,it’s spinach.” Another human piped up prodding at a strange squishy red ball sloshing with a strange pink nectar, “This looks like candy.”

“Please don’t put that in your mouth.”

The humans swarmed away from the two dissenting voices. One of them picked up the strange pink orb and licked it. It’s eyes lit up and it bit into the piece wiping pink juice from it’s face as it did, “Ok, this, this is good 10/10 would try again.” And that only caused all the other humans to move over to try one.

“I SAID GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!” The vrul demanded. 

The Rundi steward looked on in horror and worry. Vrul didn’t behave that way, everything here was just wrong. 

A Drev joined the party just then pointing to the pink orb, “I love those, but you should definitely try these too.” 

“No, no they should not.”

He was ignored, and the humans scooted over to look. It was a strange spiral plant in a light yellow color that made  a distinctive crunching sound as the humans bit down. They shrugged, “Sort of just like space celery if you ask me.”

Did these creatures have no sense of self preservation!

A group had gathered around the table strangely amused at the humans, who just ate…. Everything.

The Rundi steward almost keeled over watching his future go down the drain as other species began offering humans food. Whatever it was, they seemed unable to resist putting it in their mouths. A human made a face spitting something back out into his hand, “Ax bleh, tastes like Satan’s feet.” “Quick question. When was the last time you licked Satan’s feet.” “The last time I was at your mom’s house.” 

The humans made strange noises at each other as the Rundi stepped in and began grabbing things from the humans only to find the Vrul to be doing the same, “Stop it! Stop it all of you!.”

The human’s paused, as did the other delegates in surprise.

“STOP PUTTING THINGS IN YOUR MOUTH THAT YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE.”  The intervening silence was broken as one of the humans loudly crunched on one of the pink orbs. Everyone turned to look at her and she just glanced around the group.

“What?” She wondered past a mouth full of food.

A human waved a hand at him, “Keep your shorts on, we promise you won't get in trouble if one of us dies.” 

The Rundi stared on incredulous.

They were going to kill themselves, they were really going to kill themselves.

Maybe it was best if he resigned before being fired, at least he would be able to keep his dignity

[alexsfictionaddiction]

‘She overcame everything that was meant to destroy her.’

Women are truly incredible creatures. We have spent centuries being overlooked, downtrodden and dismissed. In some respects, we have come a long way in terms of gender equality but there are still many recent occurrences which remind us of how far we have to go. 

So many female illnesses take years to diagnose or aren’t taken seriously enough when they are. Women are still having to justify why they chose not to have children. We’re still working with a pay gap. Some women aren’t considered to be women because of the body parts they were born with or without. There are still places in the world where women simply don’t and never will have the opportunities to live life on their own terms. Despite all this, we’re still out in the world making and doing amazing things and looking beautiful while doing them. 

This recommendation list is really a collection of books that celebrate women, their courage, their friendships and their choices. It’s pretty varied in terms of genre and style, so I’m pretty sure you’ll find at least one book here that piques your interest. Keep being your fierce, unstoppable self and honour your girls today. -Love, Alex x

1. Dangerous Women by Hope Adams.

In 1841, 180 English women are on board The Rajah, a ship bound for Australia. All of them are criminals, most of them convicted of petty crimes but one of them has a deadly dark secret. Then someone is killed and the hunt for the culprit is on. But it’s hard to protest your innocence when you’ve already been found guilty. This addictive mystery is so well-researched and is based on the true stories of real female criminals aboard The Rajah. There is an overwhelming, stifling darkness, haunting the whole novel that is so atmospheric and reflective of conditions on board. It’s a story of sisterhood, female friendship and the existence of the Rajah Quilt is an example of the incredible feats that women can overcome if they work together. 

2. Moxie by Jennifer Mathieu.

Viv is tired of following the rules at her high school and is determined to shake things up. Channelling her mum’s former punk persona, Viv creates and secretly distributes a feminist zine to her classmates, who start to take action. Cliques are abandoned as new friendships are formed and a revolution kicks off. The real sweetness about this gutsy, fierce YA novel is the fact that talking about the daily trials and tribulations that girls go through brings them together rather than divides them. There are some fantastic characters and the inclusion of male allies is everything.

3. Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams.

After a disastrous break up, British-Jamaican millennial Queenie embarks on a journey, riddled with bad choices, to discover what she really wants from life. Straddling two cultures, a job where she is perpetually underappreciated and an underlying mental health condition, Queenie is a relatable depiction of what it means to be a young, Black woman in 21st century London. Funny, honest and deeply moving, Queenie is an essential enlightening read with a wonderfully flawed, real woman at its heart.

4. Hag: Forgotten Folktales Retold.

Inspired by British urban myths, this collection of spooky, fantastical stories by various female authors celebrates women in all of their guises. These stories are written by the likes of Daisy Johnson, Kirsty Logan, Irenosen Okojie, Eimear McBride and more. Some of the stories are very dark. Some of them offer powerful insights into other cultures. Some of them explore inherently female issues such as the repression of desire and motherhood. Overriding the whole collection is the wonder and power of women defying the odds and achieving their dreams. A fantastically unique read, ideal for International Women’s Day.

5. My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She’s Sorry by Fredrik Backman.

When Elsa’s grandmother dies, she discovers a series of letters apologising to the various people she has wronged. Elsa’s mission to deliver these letters leads to some strange places and a journey that leads to getting to know her grandmother in a way she never did, when she was alive. The relationship between seven-year-old Elsa and her grandmother is so beautiful and I’m sure I’ll never read another grandmother-granddaughter relationship like it. Granny is a truly formidable character and a woman who has left behind a very full, colourful life. Backman is a master at writing quirky, uplifting stories of community and this charming novel is no different.

6. Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-Joo.

Kim Jiyoung has recently given up work to raise her baby daughter but before long, she begins displaying strange symptoms, such as impersonating the voices of other women. As her psychosis deepens, Jiyoung’s entire life is spilled to her male psychiatrist and it’s a life of restriction, abuse and control. This incredibly evocative book is a harrowing illustration of the misogyny ingrained deep in Korean culture and the devastating effects it can have on the women who live within it. A woman on the brink of insanity speaks for them all in this heavily symbolic, heartbreaking read.

7. The Shelf by Helly Acton.

Amy is pretty sure that Jamie is about to propose, so she is more than shocked to find herself on The Shelf, a reality TV show for single women. Over the next few weeks, she and five other women must take on challenges to improve themselves and be crowned ‘The Keeper’. The Shelf is a joyful celebration of singledom and female friendship. Funny and heartwarming, it inspires its readers to never settle for second best and discover life and yourself, completely on your own terms.

8. Invisible Women by Caroline Criado-Perez.

The world is made for men. Cars, phones, the medical industry, workplace laws and more areas of modern society largely ignore women. This fantastically informative manual exposes all the data biases that have been hidden from us. Caroline Criado-Perez has collated stories and case studies from across the globe that show how women’s lives and health are affected by our male-minded world and calls for drastic change.

9. A Kind of Spark by Elle McNicoll.

Addie has autism but she is so much more than that. When she learns of her hometown’s involvement in witch trials, she launches a campaign to erect a memorial for the women who died during them. This gorgeous, uplifting, funny middle-grade book offers a unique insight into a neurodivergent mind and simultaneously honours innocent, murdered women. You’ll get all the feels!

10. Olive by Emma Gannon.

Olive’s choice to not be a mother has ended her nine year relationship and her three best friends are all at various stages of motherhood. So, where will Olive fit into their lives now? This wonderfully sensitive and thoughtful novel is a wonderful celebration of women who are child-free by choice as well as giving voice to those who have struggled to become mothers. It will speak to any woman who has ever been asked when they’re going to take the leap into that ‘inevitable’ stage of a female life -motherhood.

11. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid.

Evelyn Hugo is a retired Hollywood icon who has personally chosen struggling, unknown reporter Monique to dictate her biography to. No one knows why, not even Monique herself. Over a series of intimate meetings, Evelyn tells Monique her story; from her rise to fame in the 1950s LA to her retirement 30 years later and the myriad of romances throughout that time. In time, it becomes clear that Evelyn’s and Monique’s lives intertwine in a heartbreaking fashion. Soaring, epic and completely unforgettable, Evelyn Hugo is the story of a woman who was consistently objectified, moulded and suppressed. Ultimately, it is a story of a great forbidden love and the hell that fame can bring, especially for women.

12. The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson.

Imannuelle’s mixed heritage is sacrilege in the tiny, puritanical community in which she lives. So she does her best to obey the rules and worship the Father. However, she finds herself in the haunted Darkwood where the spirits of murdered witches roam but they have a gift for Immanuelle -her dead mother’s journal, which leads to her discovering the dark truths behind the community she was born into. This atmospheric, brooding fantasy-horror novel champions the overthrowing of control, the discovery of one’s own inner power and capabilities as well as demonstrating how women have been villified by the patriarchy for centuries, simply for leading the lives that they want to lead. An addictive, Gothic witchy treat!