#they were gathering some of my art and I sent them my Tumblr too

[tamelee]

I WANT THESE CLOTHES FROM UR LAST ART 😭😭😭 I would buy and wear that in a heartbeat where do we get it?

Ahh I want to know too 🥹🤭!! I'd wear it also. Comfy oversized clothes are the best .. >.< I'm sure Uchiha hoodies exist but I haven't ever found one that was good quality... it's usually a shitty print or that one slippery thin fabric that makes me cringe 😩

[theintrovertbean]

My statement about the drama

Hello!

This post will be about the whole Rai drama that they orchestrated against @asrabounding. But first, I would kindly ask anyone who hasn't read the post by @iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia, aka brainrot, to do so. It can be quite triggering, so please, be mindful of that and make sure to put yourself first. The same warning applies to my own post.

First, I want to apologize. I did bad stuff, and I've been doing my best to mend my mistakes. I'm very sorry about the things I've done, but especially about the things I could have prevented. My friends got hurt because of something I was a part of and could have avoided if I wasn't scared to stand up for others and myself.

This is going to be a long post. Sorry about that too, but this whole drama was simply a lot.

Brainrot's part perfectly sums up what happened, but since I was there from the beginning of the drama, it would be fair to add some things from my own POV. It isn't nearly as professional as brainrot's statement, and it's more about my personal experience, which I think shows how this drama affected the well-being of the people involved. Again, this is my experience, but we all share the feelings.

The first time I posted from this account on Tumblr was in July 2022, and Rai reached out to me on November 1. Apparently, I was too intimidating, but as it turns out, Rai just needed me (and other people) for their plans. They specifically wanted to involve mainly Nadia fans, so it was only a matter of time before they messaged me.

Why Nadia fans, you might ask? Well, we could sit here all night and take guesses because no one knows for certain. Rai only pretended to like Nadia (because wanting to kill her is enough proof that they didn't like her), so their reason must have been something psychological. But again, we can't know for certain. Sadly, their actions put us Nadia fans in a bad light, and their friendship was never genuine.

I have a guess that Rai had been stalking a few bigger creators for a while and just waiting for one of them to make a mistake. Asrabounding (AB from now on) happened to be the unlucky one.

Honestly, I didn't know AB at all. We never interacted, and the first time I ever heard about him was through Rai. At the beginning of December 2022, Rai told our server about AB and how he and his girlfriend were harassing their "boi," Panda, who was completely incapable of taking care of himself, at least according to Rai.

I spoke to Panda a few times during the drama; he is nothing like Rai described, which You can tell by the screenshots as well. He is overly friendly and tends to overshare, and I would say he is pure evil, but that adjective would be far too generous in his case. I also have to add that there is no evidence of Rai and Panda being two different people. I've looked through my DMs, and a few servers that Rai is/was in and found zero traces of them ever having a conversation. I also asked around, and no one has ever seen these two interact with each other. Once, we even asked Rai to invite Panda to their server because we all wanted to get to know him, but they immediately refused, saying he is too soft and all kinds of weird things to say about one's partner. I suppose it would be hard to text from two accounts simultaneously.

The private server that Rai created was made in November, around the time when the drama began. It's crucial to mention that none of us knew AB. This allowed Rai to portray AB however they wanted.

There are screenshots in the pdf from the DMs between Rai and me. They told me quite a few things but purposefully left out important details. The screenshots Rai sent me were always sent in a way that would make AB seem like the worst person to ever exist. I (and the server) also received altered versions of AB's art, which were edited in a way to make it seem like AB was making Asra whiter or orange. Additionally, Rai maliciously gathered personal information about AB and his loved ones, which is both legally and morally wrong.

The call-out blog happened and didn't gain much attention, which was quite disappointing to Rai, but failure didn't stop them. They recruited more people for the sole purpose of hurting AB. We retreated to Rai's server until the previous drama, where Rai popped up every once in a while to stir up our anger and disturb our conversations.

Then we arrive at the latest drama. Rai's efforts paid off. One of our friends did a call-out post, and things went crazy. I don't have to describe what happened because it's in brainrot's statement, but there is one thing that I really want to highlight. Rai did nothing. Everything we did was because of them and their "boi," and they just watched us all get burned.

At some point, brainrot presented us with an opportunity to make peace with AB. Two of us even volunteered to talk to him, myself included. Rai didn't even react while everyone else was looking forward to ending the drama. Actually, Rai was unusually quiet. They gave us an excuse for being less active and just left us to deal with their mess.

When brainrot left, I almost immediately reached out to him for two reasons. 1. He is my friend. I was concerned about his well-being and wanted to make sure he was alright. 2. I was physically and mentally sick of the drama and considered leaving the server myself. There were days when I could barely function because of the anxiety I felt. I was a mess. Everyone was, but never Rai. I felt like I was in the middle of a battlefield, watching my friends get slaughtered while the person behind it all, Rai, was having the time of their life far away in a luxury tent. I desperately wanted to end that.

On multiple occasions, I muted the server for hours and sometimes even days because I could not deal with Rai. There was a clear hierarchy, and Rai would constantly try to compete with us and bring us down. Everyone else was behaving like normal human beings, and then Rai would randomly show up to pollute the air with their "hee hoos" and disturbing stories they claimed were true.

The same person who said they were gathering courage for months to text me never showed any care, remorse, or fear during our nine months of "friendship." Also, the very same person would go around texting random people on Tumblr, checking how intelligent and "mentally stimulating" (they said that, not me) they are, and trying to figure out if they hate Dorian and/or Asrabounding. They were also looking for people in a more vulnerable position, such as those who were new to the fandom and/or lonely. When everything on the list was ticked off, Rai invited them to their server. For privacy reasons, I'm not going to say an exact number, but about ten of us were "recruited."

Brainrot and I talked a bit, we both vented, and we eventually reached the point where I said that I would talk to AB just to end this madness. And so I did with brainrot's help, even though it horrified me, but I knew I had to do it for others. I expected AB to be just as Rai presented him to us, but he wasn't. The AB I was talking to was kind, understanding, cooperative, and tired of everything that had been going on. It often made me wish I met AB sooner than Rai. Our conversations with AB were and still are civil and friendly, and I am nothing but thankful to him. We compared our notes, then brainrot and I went back to DMs for a while to discuss everything.

We realized that 1. Everything Rai said about AB was a lie, and Rai just wanted to hurt him. 2. Rai lied to us and used several manipulation tactics on us. 3. Our friends were unsafe.

To include a lie, once, Rai texted me to ask if I wanted to know their legal name. They told me that they were named after a character from an anime. Later, I found from a friend that Rai told her their name too. It was from the same anime but a different character's name. This was just one example.

So we made a plan, and we had to act fast. I quickly gathered a few screenshots from the server that we could use, then we texted everyone involved about the news. Thank gayness, everything instantly clicked for the vast majority of our friends. It was tough, exhausting, and very emotional. Being betrayed by someone we considered a friend was no joke. Honestly, have never felt so much anxiety in my life. It was suffocating.

Then, three of us deleted every channel in Rai's server (every member had maximum permissions). In the meantime, we made a server of our own, a safe place where we could heal together, continue our friendship, and discuss what we were going to do next.

And that's how we got to brainrot's post. I created a document and put in whatever screenshots I had from Rai's server and my DMs. Then I asked everyone to send me all the screenshots they wanted us to include, and I put those in too. That pdf is the fruit of multiple days of work and immeasurable disgust. Even putting it together almost made me throw up more than once. It was available to everyone involved (our friends and AB as well) from start to finish. They were all free to make edits, give suggestions, and add screenshots if they wanted. AB added the anons he received and a bunch of other screenshots. Brainrot wrote his statement, and I did the group's, which is one of the reasons I didn't want to make another one. In the meantime, we found out more about Rai, and it was not pretty; the screenshots prove it all.

This wasn't the first time Rai tried to take someone down, and they bragged about it multiple times. They were also quite proud of how they were able to manipulate people. I mean, just look at what they said about how they got together with their "boi." We know of two people in the fandom who were hurt by Rai. From what I know, unlike AB, they weren't content creators. My assumption is that doing the same thing over again wasn't giving Rai the same thrill anymore, so they wanted to target someone bigger. Bigger drama = more pleasure for Rai.

There was one person who got kicked from the server because they didn't hate Lucio. Rai provoked them to make them act out of character, which resulted in a kick and ban. There were others that Rai wanted to kick out but didn't because they were still needed for the drama.

The things Rai sometimes said about characters and the people who like them were sickening. They constantly described Lucio as a mass murderer and a r*pist and harassed anyone who didn't agree with their opinions. Rai also headcanoned that Lucio SAd Nadia during their marriage. And a lot of other things...

We had to tiptoe around Rai all the time because being kicked out of the server wouldn't have been a big deal, but being separated from our friends against our will was not something any of us wanted. That small but loving community we created for ourselves (Rai excluded) was why we stayed on that server in the first place.

But also, we were scared. Whenever Rai was present, they turned us into an angry mob. I don't know when we started to feel this way, but we were uncomfortable and wanted out. However, when we looked at each other, the angry mob was all we could see. Even when an individual was in doubt, the others still put on their angry mask, and that one person felt alone. I often felt like that too, but we all knew what Rai was capable of. We were already hurting, and we didn't want to unleash the angry mob against us. If Rai were to come after any of us, they would most definitely twist everything in a way to make themselves seem like the victim(s).

Soon after the server was gone and I was no longer talking to Rai, I realized that the hate I once felt wasn't my own.

Once again, I'm sorry about what happened. We all are. I apologize for the hurt I caused to everyone and take full responsibility for my actions. I never intended for things to escalate things this far, and I regret everything I've done. The things we did were not done with a clear mind. If it wasn't for Rai and their mind games, none of us would have done anything like this.

And Azi, I'm especially sorry to you. Despite everything we've done, you treated us with kindness and worked together with us to make the fandom a safer place. You have no idea how much this means. I'm thankful for the chance of getting to know the real you.

I also apologize to my followers for bringing drama onto my blog. While I'm open to questions about what happened, I would like to get back to writing my silly little headcanons like I did before. I'm an open book, but simping for Nadia is why I made this blog in the first place. The good thing is that now I'm able to do the things I've always wanted without Rai constantly reminding me why this and that is so bad. And who knows, maybe you'll see me bring some Nadia content to a different platform as well...

Our friend group, I apologize to you as well because I didn't protect you when I could have. Things would have been different if I wasn't so scared.

Azi, Brainrot, and friends. Thank you for everything. Your support and cooperation helped all of us through these hard times, and I hope we can continue to heal together.

I don't expect forgiveness from anyone because what happened is truly horrible. While countless lies and manipulation were involved, a simple apology won't undo the harm we caused. We have been doing our best to make up for our mistakes and will continue to do so in the future as well. However, please, please be careful. Rai is still a threat, so if you see them anywhere, just run. Protect yourselves and, if you can, others as well. Please, stay safe and learn from our horrible mistakes.

-Eszter

[creative-time]

A proper fair well

Well… here we are, I’m actually leaving

I just want to be clear, I love dhmis. The original series, and the pilot, will always have a special place in my heart. I’m still a fan, just not so much of a fan that I would spend like 75% of my life dedicated to a tumblr blog about it anymore.

Maybe it’s just burnout, or the fact that I was so disappointed in the tv series that it finally broke me, or the fact that I started this blog when I was 14 at the beginning of 2016.

I started running this blog when I was 14, and I’m 21 now. For nearly 7 years now. We had some good laughs, I met some people that would change my life, for better or worse. And I could have never imagined that I would gather so many people together like this.

And I really hate to sound ungrateful, but, it still kinda makes me a little sad when people say I’m the dhmis news guy, because this blog was always supposed to be more than that. It was supposed to be ALL of the dhmis fandom. All the art, all the memes, all the conversations. This blog was about you guys! The people who made this fandom even possible! The people who built it from nothing, for everyone now to enjoy. I loved sharing news, but I loved sharing your, and my, creations even more…

I guess being considered the “dhmis news guy” just kinda made me think that I was easily replaceable in the fandom, like… if one day I stopped, someone else would just fill the hole that I was in super easily and no one would really notice I was gone.

I think a lot of people forget that… I’m a person… Creative-Time IS a person… I was a person this whole time… making sure this blog didn’t turn to dust and constantly being ridiculed, mocked, or straight up harassed and sent death threats to the point were I would sometimes cry myself to sleep. But I realized that all that just wasn’t worth the energy, this wasn’t worth the energy.

There’s probably so much more I could say here… I just wouldn’t know where to start. And maybe I’m saying all this super wrong and someone is gonna look through it with a fine-tooth comb and tell everyone that I hate them and tell everyone I’m a horrible person, which perhaps I deserve.

I would like to thank all the people that have actually tried to get to know me, I’m sure you know who you are. You all made running this blog a little bit more happier for me, and I hope you all are happy too, even if we never cross paths again.

I think the only thing that could ever get me back into the fandom and this blog is if there is more dhmis that is actually good, or the pilot get released in HD in some shape or form. Other than that, I think I’m done here…

I won’t be deleting this blog, but I would request no new followers or dms unless it’s the pilot in full hd.

If anyone really wants to ask any follow up questions, please send them to the ask box on my main @cosmicxd but I would like to remind you all, I’m an adult, my friends and mutuals are adults, so if your under the age of 18 I would suggest not following my main because me and my friends are… UNHINGED and we have a whopping ZERO filters. I really don’t want to block any of you but if I know you are a minor and you follow my main anyway, I will not hesitate to block you, so just don’t. thanks I’m advance.

Now, a few things that I should wrap up in a bow.

Here’s what might be the final piece of artwork I do for TeVi and Purple Girl, I will try to make a series to put them in in the future but I want to work on another original series right now so it might not be for a while. So there are not really consider dhmis ocs anymore I guess. Just puppet ocs now

Also, a final update for Mini Mean Steve: Finally found some model magic and Mod Podge glad to say he is finally complete! He will be my most treasured possessions

Thank you for reading all the way through this, and for one final thing

Here a sketch of me kissing icehell Tony and Paige. (Because if im going out, I’m going out with a hell-freezing, earth-shattering BANG!!!)

Thank you all once again, and I’ll see you on the flip side!

-Creative Time

[mynamesaplant]

It Changes, like Water (CH. 2)

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Summary: Akari has just met Gaeric for the first time and is still a little rattled by the experience. Ingo tries to reassure her by telling her a story.

Content Warning: Blood, bodily injury, and wild animal attack

Notes: I've made this in honor of Monsoon-of-Art and their PLA mer au (and just a touch from a different au where Gaeric acts as Irida's guardian). Many of the scenes in this fic are directly inspired by their work, there mer stuff more specifically. I've been a big fan of them since I started playing PLA and I've only grown to love all their characterizations of some of my favorite characters in all of Pokemon. Welcome to the real story! I love Ingo and Akari, but I want Irida and Gaeric to get some love, too! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! Don't like to read on Tumblr? Read it here on AO3.

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Irida was very small when her parents had died. As the clan leader’s only heir, she was far too young to become leader. It had been decided that, until she was old enough, the elders would watch out for the better interests of the clan and train Irida for her eventual duties. However, they couldn’t constantly watch the girl.

With the annual food shortage and the unusual number of pups born this year that needed near constant supervision, there were very few adults available who could act as Irida’s guardian. The answer came in the form of an orphaned teenager by the name of Gaeric. He was not the perfect choice, far from it, but he was the only good short-term solution.

Gaeric’s guardianship was begrudging. The teenager was moody at best and outright hostile at his worst. To be fair, he could only see raising Irida as a chore that was being foisted upon him. Personally, he felt a burning rage in his heart for the people who had ruined his life – although no one was quite forthcoming about who or what that was. He knew his father had been sent on a gathering mission and never to return when he was about Irida’s age. His suspicion was that Diamond Clan had something to do with his disappearance.

Gaeric lost his mother fairly recently, she had been attacked by some Diamond Clan member. The food situation this year was so dire that some of the clan had been desperate enough to seek out their long-time enemy to help feed their starving pups. His mother had been one of the casualties from such misguided thinking – but the thought that they attacked someone who was seeking aid with little provocation? … It made Gaeric’s blood boil.

The teen was sure that the elders were not outright saying that it was Diamond Clan to anyone but him because they could not afford to get into any sort of skirmish with the other clan, not if they wanted to ensure their own survival. With the food shortage that sent scouts further and further from home, the overabundance of pups that the adults were scrambling to keep alive, and instability without an actual leader, Pearl Clan could not afford to retaliate for this injustice. To say it enraged him was an understatement, but what could he do? Much of his hostility came in the form of neglect, or – more precisely – indifference toward Irida.

“Gaeric?”

The large, speckled mound of teenager barely budged when the small voice called out to him. He jolted when she flopped on his tail, her claws digging in unexpectedly as he jerked upright.

“I knew it! You are awake! I’m hungry.”

Irida pouted as a snarl issued from him, plucking her off his tail indelicately and dropping her to the cold, rocky ground. Her sleeping pattern was changing to match his, he couldn’t help but sleep through the day to avoid the piteous, or in some cases impatient, gazes of the clan members around the settlement. So, he would sleep the day away and start his own hunts around dusk. It was his only real contribution to the clan. They didn’t have to worry about allocating food to him. He always took care of himself.

“You’re supposed to go to the elders for your rations. Quit bugging me about it.”

“I did.”

She pouted, watching as he tried to drag a seal skin blanket over his head to block out the light coming from outside the ice cavern… and her.

“I’m still hungry!”

“Yeah? And what do you expect me to do about it?”

He twisted so he lay on his other side, trying hard not to roll his eyes while Irida jutted out her lower lip. They were all hungry. Between seasonal migrations, the worse than average food shortage, and the priority food going to young pups, most additional food collection was on the individual.

Although not exactly a pup, being just a little too old to be a real pup at around seven, Irida did get food priorities, but Gaeric could remember being hungry all the time at her age too. That was around the time when he had his first growth spurt and started bulking up, starting to grow into his larger body size.

The girl was quiet for a moment, staring up at him with big eyes and he looked back at her, completely unimpressed.

“Well, I… Could I...”

When she realized she probably wasn’t going to get an unconditional yes from him, Irida floundered for words until Gaeric rolled his eyes and flopped face down on the ice. He was intent on ignoring her because she usually ended up giving up after a few minutes, but this time she was quite insistent.

“Gaeriiiiiiiiiic! I’m hungry.”

She was at his shoulder, shoving him and practically shouting in his ear. With very little effort, he pushed himself up and nudged her away.

“Go away, I’m trying to sleep.”

Irida tried again unsuccessfully for another few minutes before giving up to go pout somewhere else, or perhaps to someone else. If Palina was around, which she usually wasn’t during the middle of the day, Irida would go see her Calaba, but both had their hands full with gathering and pups. As always, he was stuck with the bratty little kid. When the sun began to sink lower in the sky, she returned with more bellyaching about how hungry she was.

He was still ignoring her, also trying to ignore his own stomach growling at him as she trailed after him. Gaeric slung some supplies over his shoulder before heading out for what he could only assume would be another less than prosperous hunt: a spear and a spare, a net, and knife. Irida, being much smaller, she was much quicker than him and was able to get in front of him before he slid through the hole in the ice to the frozen waters below.

“Irida, move.”

Gaeric offered her an impatient, toothy smile that did not seem to deter her in the least, grabbing on to his arm as he tried clambering through the hole.

“Get me something to eat.”

He tried to shake her off, but she had dug her claws in. Losing patience, Gaeric sloshed into the water with Irida still on his arm. If she was going to be stupid and stubborn, she might as well see what he had to go through each night just to get himself something to eat. She shrieked something on the lines of this isn’t what I meant, but he kept swimming with her clutching onto his arm.

“Nope, now you’re helping. You’re supposed to be the clan leader in a few years, so might as well get a jump start on things like hunting.”

Gaeric pried her off his arm and she was trying to swim quickly to keep up to him, but for every one stroke of his tail, it took her three or four to cover the same distance. He did not bother to slow down for her.

“Look around! What do you see, Irida?”

The larger mer stopped abruptly, spinning in the darkening water with his arms stretched wide. Nothing. There was an open expanse of ocean, a few ice flows over their heads, but otherwise, nothing. Empty. Quiet. Vaguely sinister.

“N-Nothing?”

“That’s right! Nothing! Because there’s practically no food right now. You want food? You have to find it yourself. That’s what I did when I was your age.”

“But I can’t see… An-And I don’t know how to hunt.”

Gaeric knew that and he saw her shrinking back, clearly frightened by his outburst. He leaned back, lowering his arms, and really looked at the small girl. He was supposed to be taking care of her. This wasn’t taking care of her. His hunger was making him lash out, his anger was being replaced with indifference which he had to shake from his mind. Irida was still young, she didn’t quite understand yet, and yelling at her wasn’t going to make understand any better, nor make her any more compassionate in the future towards others as he was being to her right now. In the absence of any sort of formal training from a parent or the elders, he was her mentor, and he was being a pretty awful mentor. He sighed and moved through the water, gently nudging her in a position by his torso so she was protected from any stray predators lurking unseen in the water.

“Come on then, I’m going to show you how to hunt.”

He thought back to when he first started hunting with his parents, how they did the same thing to keep him safe, but also teaching him at the same time.

“If you ever encounter a predator, you have to protect the vital spot.”

Gaeric explained, moving much slower through the water and keeping his voice low. Irida needed to be mindful of her head and her torso. Being unconscious in the water for mers that needed oxygen was more than bad, it was a death sentence. Her torso contained her heart and lungs, not that the other organs were important, if either the circulatory or pulmonary systems failed by sever injury, it was basically lights out. Blood had to keep moving in their territory underneath sheets of thick ice, fat and fur could only keep you warm for so long.

“Eyes up. Ears open. Claws at the ready. You might be fast, but that doesn’t mean a predator can’t chase you down… Next time you come out here with me and with a little more light, I’ll show you how to use a spear in the water.”

Gaeric knew that this information was rather blatant and frightening, but that was the reality they lived in. Irida was the size of a seal and he a great white, but she would have been seen as easy prey. She needed to be prepared. His parents had told that for him at an early age, so he figured Irida should know that too.

“Always be on your guard.”

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[ask-de-writer]

SEE STORY (Part 2 of 5) A tale from the World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

See Story

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

Cover art by @wind-the-mama-cat​

14372 words

copyright 2023

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may   reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge   for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

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Sea is a colony assumed lost somewhat over a thousand years before this tale opens.  They were sent on a one way trip, not knowing that there was no land at all on the whole world of Sea.  Thus, aside from humans, NO CREATURE OF SEA IS IN ANY WAY ITS NAMESAKE.  They were simply named for a superficial resemblance to some Earthly creature by the early colonists.

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New to SEE STORY?  Read from the beginning HERE.

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“You.  I never much thought about this before, but your name is different from everybody else’s. I have never, in all my seven Gatherings, heard you named anything but just Cat.  How did you get named?  Who were your father and mother?  Did you come from a different ship?”

“Oh, ho!  You want another tale from me, do you?”

“If it will answer my questions, yes,” Kurin snuggled more closely, seeking the caring of contact, and prepared to listen to something about a person that she knew, instead of legends from long-ago times.

“You will have to get off my lap, then, for I have some things to show you.  Come down with me to the boat shop, because the beginning of my tale is there.”  

She got up, taking Kurin’s hand, and went aft to a companionway.  Without warning, she scooped up the child with one hand and leaped forward and down into the darkness below.  She grabbed the upper sill of the sliding door with her free hand, converting their plunge into a swing that landed them lightly on the deck below, about ten feet forward from the foot of the companion-ladder.  Kurin looked shocked for a moment, then laughed.  

Making their way forward through the dimness of  ‘tween decks, they came to the boat shop.

“May we enter your shop, Juris?” Cat asked.  “I want to show Kurin something.”

“Kurin, eh?  I have seen you about, little Miss.  Come in, but do as you are told, OK?”

“Thank you, Master Juris.  I will do as I am asked,” Kurin replied, and entered the shop with Cat.  The room was brightly lighted by translucent panes in the hatch that made up much of the ceiling of the shop.  The air was full of the stench of glue-fish and drying strong-skin.  Fine parings of strong-skin and bits of dried glue littered the floor.  Three small rowing boats for fishing were upside-down on portable frames with forms that controlled the shape of the boats as they were built. The only tools not neatly in their places were clearly in use.  Kurin took it all in with deeply interested stares.  Cat went to a corner and untied a tiny boat, only about three feet long, from the overhead.

“Do you read yet, Kurin?”

“Only a little.  I sound out some words.”

“Good.  Read what is written here on this little boat.”

“M.. Me … Ca … It says Mecat!  It has the Great Sea Dragon’s name on it!”

“True.  We don’t know who wrote that name there.  Perhaps it was someone who wished harm to a blind baby.  Maybe, someone who was asking the aid of the Sea Dragon. I would wish that it were the latter.  An infant, near death from thirst and hunger, was adrift in this little boat. No ship will admit having done it.  

“However it was, I was born sightless, and cast adrift on the Dragon Sea, of the far North, not too far from where we are now.  By luck alone, I was found by a ship named the Longin, blown off her course by a storm.  They could have passed me by, or having taken me in, they could have voted to return me to the Sea.  Instead they kept me.  I do not know my father or the mother who bore me.

“What is your full name, Kurin?”

“Kurin Behar Longin.”

“How was it given?”

“My mother,” Kurin looked sadder, “gave me my first name.  My middle name is from my father’s family and my last name is my ship, where I was born.”

“Good.  Use that knowledge to name me.”

“No mother name,” Kurin’s small brow wrinkled as she thought, “no father name, only … .” Her eyes widened as she realized, “Just the ship name … and all you have is … not even a ship … just this little boat with the Great Dragon’s name!   You are Mecat!  Cat is short for Mecat!  Isn’t it supposed to be awfully bad luck to name someone for a Dragon?  You’re the happiest, busiest person on the Longin!” She hugged Cat, eyes shining with tears almost on the edge shedding. “I’m sorry, Cat.  I didn’t know that you couldn’t even have a whole name.”

“Good for you,” Cat replied, returning the hug, silently glad that Kurin had finally found something besides her own sorrow.  “The Captain and crew had the same quandary that you just did.  They could have lied, and just given me a name, but honesty won.  

“My first word was not mother or father, it was Mecat, the same Dragon’s name that was written on this little boat.  When people spoke to me, it was all that I answered to.  For better or worse, it is my name.  Because that name might bring such bad luck to the ship, I have never been enrolled in the crew.  When I became old enough to understand how uncomfortable my name made other people, I shortened it to Cat, but I do still bear the Dragon’s name.  It is the only past that I have.  

“I may not know what craft I came from, or who bore me, but I am very sure who my family is.  I was raised by Alor Heyes Dolthin, our Captain’s mother.  He became an older brother to me.  Because I was not in the crew, there was nothing to bind me to any position, so I worked in all the shops and jobs.  I was raised by the whole Longin. Now, I do whatever needs doing and assist whoever needs help, anywhere on the ship.

“Are your questions answered, now?”

Kurin thought for a bit, absently kneading a handful of fine dust-like Strong Skin scrapings and glue drips, which were not yet fully set.  “I think so, Cat.  Thank you. Look at this!”

She held out the wad which had taken the shape of her closed hand, and rolled it into a long string. “See, the glue holds the rest together and before it sets you can make things out of it.”  With growing sureness, she shaped it into small Strong Skin fish.  “I like that, I’ll let it set that way, and have a toy.”

“Very neat.  You have put in all seven gills.”

“How can you see it, Cat?”

“I don’t know how to tell you.  If the Dragon took my eyes, she gave me a feeling for everything about me.”  She brightened and reached to a tool rack with the sureness of one long familiar with it, which she was.  “Here is a scraper, a rocker knife and a burnisher.  Put them where you wish on the bench.”  Kurin, now curious, did so.  “Close your eyes and put your hand out and touch each one.”  Concentrating only a little, Kurin touched each tool while her eyes were shut.  “There, you see, you can already do some of what I do.  Even I don’t know why I can remember where some things are.  I sometimes know where things are that I have never been near.  It is like remembering where everything is, and what shape it may be.”  Wistfully she added, “I wish that I knew color, too.”  While Cat was speaking, Kurin had picked up the tools and replaced them carefully in their proper places in the rack.

Cat turned her head to Master Juris.  “You may have found your new apprentice.  See what she has done?   Will you take her on?”

“Gladly, if she consents. Kurin, would you like to work here in the boat shop?  You could be doing real work, instead of play chores.  Would you like that? Besides boats we make parts for the rigging and much else.”

“You mean it?” Kurin asked, eyes shining, “Silor isn’t apprenticed yet, and he’s several Gatherings older than me.”

“I mean it.  Silor is careless. I doubt that he has what it takes to be good at a Craft.  That fish shows neat work with attention to detail.  That is what I need.” Glancing meaningfully at the tool rack he added, “You know how to keep a work area tidy, too.  That is important for good work.”

“Enjoy your work, Little Fish, I must go now,” said Cat, giving Kurin a parting hug. “I am needed in the rigging to help with some maintenance.”

Cat swarmed hand over hand up a mast-stay to the foremast top to help replace a worn king block.  It was important to replace the big pulley before something broke or jammed.  It carried most of the weight of the lateen foresail, nearly as large as the mainsail, allowing the sail to be raised or lowered for furling in bad weather.  Deftly, Cat spliced the new block into place, while two other sailors supported it.  Temporary lashings from the top spar to the mast top, pulled tight, took the load off of the old block.   Cat cut the shrunk-on lashings that held the old pulley together, separated the parts, and allowed the cable to come free. The new block was already separated, so that the heavy rope could be put in.  This was the dangerous part, because fingers could be crushed if anything slipped.  The rope went in safely, in part because of Cat’s strength, lifting and rolling it into place, and partly due to the care with which she did everything.  Wet lashings were applied to hold the block together, Cat drawing them so tight that much of the water squeezed out.  Once they were dry and shrunk, the lashings would not weaken again by getting wet.  The block was now ready for its load, so they released the temporary ropes and lashings.  

Done with her part of the job, Cat leapt away from the mast and snagged a line part way down as she fell, sliding along it to the deck.  The two crewmen left aloft stared.  “Brant, will you watch that?  Graceful as a sea bird.  It still bothers me some how those blank eyes of hers never look quite at me when she talks and never look at what she’s doing.”  He had turned, as he spoke, to the patient fid work needed to loosen the splices and knots that had secured the old king block.

“I know, Nint, I know.  Can’t really blame her for not looking at you. But me, now, that’s plain foolish.  At least she always has a ready smile and a pleasant word.  Know what gets me, though, is how she never has to look to put her hand on whatever she needs.  

“I couldn’t have jumped for that rope and I got eyes.  It would have taken both of us to get that line into the block, too.  Name or no, I’m glad that she’s on this ship.”  As he was speaking, Brant, too, had gone back to work, securing the lines needed to safely lower the old king block and its securing ropes to the deck for salvage. Little on the Longin was ever wasted.

“I have to wonder, though, what we are doing so far north of our home waters.  We haven’t been in the Dragon Sea for nineteen Gatherings, since the storm that blew us up here, just before we found her.”

“Scuttlebutt is that she asked the Captain to bring us up here.  Promised to make us even richer. Haven’t seen much to support that, though.  The fishing has been poor since we got here.”

Nint shaded his eyes, and looked south.  “Look at those bare topmasts just at the horizon.  Been our ‘little shadow’ for over a week out there. I’ll tell the Captain we’ve seen it again.  I wonder which ship has followed us so far?”

Cat went back to the boat shop by way of the galley.  Kurin was busy scraping smooth the hull of a new fishing boat.  Cat did not disturb her. “Master Juris, may I speak with you outside.  I have brought some fishcakes to snack on.”

“Certainly, Cat.  There is no present rush on any of the work under way.”

They went up on deck and sat on the down-haul line tub, by the mainmast.  The fishcakes were lightly salty-sweet, steamed just right.

“I wanted to thank you for taking Kurin in as apprentice, as young as she is.”

“These are good.  She has a gift, that child.  Maybe more than one gift.  She uses tools as if they were a natural part of her hand.  I can only think of one other that started using tools as young as her.  Yourself.  It’s I should be thanking you.”

“There is another reason.  You know that Murin Behar died in his sleep several Wohans ago.  What you may not know, is that Kurin’s mother, Lissa, seems to have died inside from her grief. She no longer has any time or caring for Kurin.  The child has her own grief, and needs something to fill her days, until she can fill them for herself, again.”

Master Juris looked thoughtful. “I see.  Poor tyke is sailing in the dark.  We’ll just have to help her stay on course until it gets light.”

/////////////////////////////

With the exception of the furled topsails, the square-rigged sails of the Grandalor were stretched tight by the wind, heeling the ship lightly to starboard.  She needed all of those sails just to keep up with the Longin, which was not trying for speed.

“Captain Barad, Sir,” said First Officer Timms, cautiously, “I am not questioning your decision to shadow the Longin.  Everything that they do prospers, and I can see wanting to cut in on their trade.  What I’m getting at is, we’ve seen nothing of value, yet, and we are going to be hard pressed to get the Grandalor to the Spring Gathering on time.”

“Yes, Master Timms,” said Captain Barad, “The Spring Gathering of Ships is to be held in the tropics this year, under the full moonlight of Carsis, Dorac, and Wohan.  All three moons are going to coincide in fullness for the whole five days and nights of the Gathering.  The Dragon Moons only happen once in about a thousand Gatherings.  That is what makes it so special.  If I can take them down a peg and spoil it for them, I will.”

“Sir, perhaps we can take their Luck.  The mysterious Lady of the Longin’s Luck is nearly due to marry off of her.  Few have seen her, far as I know, because she rarely leaves the Longin at Gatherings.  Supposed to be a great beauty, though.”

“Master Timms, that is a good thought.  The Longin was  an ordinary ship before they picked up their Lady of Luck.  Since then they have never been caught in a storm that did them harm, whatever the damage to other ships.  They get the best fishing waters.  At the Gatherings they get the highest prices for their goods, and the best matches for their young folk. All of this, they attribute to their Lady of Luck.

“Do you know her name, Timms?”

“No, Sir. Can’t say I’ve ever actually heard it.”

“I had to make inquiries to find it out.  It’s Mecat! They named her after the most dangerous of all the Great Sea Dragons!  All of their ‘luck’ will certainly turn on them!”

“Sir, I’m sure you’re right, and it would be fine if we were the ones to turn it.  Still, we must alter course to the south, and soon.  The crew is getting worried.  They know that we are on ship’s business but they want to know what that business is.”

“Master Timms, since when has the crew of this ship ever had any right to know ship’s business?  Let them fret.” Barad laughed and thought of all the treasures in his hoard.  What the crew did not know could make him richer yet.  “We will close with the Longin and see what we can learn, up close.  Then we will make all sail for the Gathering.”  Cupping his hands Captain Barad called, “Shake out all sails!”

The crew scrambled to the rigging and soon the rattle and snap of canvas taking the wind announced the tops’ls and the extra jibs and spinnakers being set.  Beneath a cloud of canvas the over three hundred feet of ship surged forward.

The Grandalor sailed up to within hailing distance of the Longin, loitering along on partly furled fore and mainsails.  The Grandalor’s hailing drum thundered from the distance, “Ahoy, Longin!  Captain Barad Maks seeks permission to board.”  

Replying the same way, the First Officer of the Longin, Alys Korin, told Clard, the Master of Drums, “Tell them, in the name of Captain Mord Halyn, come aboard and be welcome!”  The hailing drum began its high-pitched booming reply. It was a long drum, open on the end opposite the head, and mounted in a swivel.  It would send strong, directional pulses of sound ten times the distance of a voice and megaphone.

As an aside, Alys added to the cabin-child, next to him, ready to run errands, “Go, Bron, and request Captain Halyn’s presence to greet his guest.”  With a quickly sketched salute, Bron was off.

In moments, Captain Halyn was on deck, smoothing the pleats of his finest shirt of bleached mussel fiber with hand made lace of natural fibers in four distinct colors, black, tan, brown and a rare, clear amber.  This lace had made much of the Longin’s fortune in trade, for none could reproduce it.  It was a closely-held secret that none of the Longin’s crew could make it, either.  Only Cat made it.  The secret was hers, alone.

“Barad Maks, welcome to the Longin,” smiled Captain Halyn, extending a hand.  “You were expected.  What may we do for you?   You have come far from your home waters.”

“Mord Halyn,” seriously replied Captain Maks, omitting the title, as was proper in a meeting between equals and taking the proffered hand, “there is much to discuss, and some of it will not await the Moons of Gathering.  You also are far afield from your home waters.  This is a sea that no ship claims …   May we talk more privately?”

“Certainly, Barad.  We can use my cabin, and have some food and drink while we do.  You must understand a Law of the Longin, though.  I can make no deals in secret.  The whole of the ship’s crew must approve of any deals that I make, by a majority of 60% or better.  That understood, we may go to my cabin.  Shall we?”

They settled themselves in the cabin, and began the talk.  “Mord, I am puzzled.  You said that I was expected?  How did you expect me?”

“My sister told me that you were coming, and our lookouts have seen your bare topmasts for over a week.”

“I see …” Barad’s brow clouded briefly, then cleared again, “your ship is also far north of claimable waters.  What are you doing here?”

“Barad, we are carrying out ship’s business.”  This was a polite rebuff.

To be Continued

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[teledildofonics]

The Story Behind My Newest objkt.com Collection Entitled “A Penny”

https://objkt.com/collection/KT1K1Vr44uSbcP5h68xW7eQQMQQUPJTBuNU1

         TLDR

The wonderful msbourland.tez/.eth aka @msbourland on Twitterz, asked me the following about my new "A Penny" NFT 1/1 collection on OBJKT.com "So, this series is really weirdly cool - where did the idea come from? I'm a fan!!"

https://twitter.com/msbourland/status/1587017177919389696?s=20&t=qdMzfm4-5x_7CJnDV7q0_g

I decided to ramble as long as I could stand it on tumblr, because I rarely am asked about the background/inspirations/ideas behind of any of my works, so I thought it would be fun, and a shout out to my blogger/blogspot days (OMG, SMH). She is a famous writer you know . . .

         Project Overview

I spray painted 200-300 US pennies during the summer of 2021 for one good reason - I ran out of 12” LPs and 45s to paint, and many bad reasons. In late September 2022, I scanned a handful and had a teledildoepiphany while looking at the scanned images. In March 2022, I went live with this teledildofonics NFT project. On Oct. 25th, 2022, I began minting the pennies, with only level/brightness/contrast-esc post scan editing.  Pennies were scanned in at 600 DPI, come in either PNG or JPG files, and with two resolution used, 585x585px and 485x485px.

          The too long potion of a TLDR Post

Note: Tumblr ate the edit to about 3 edits for some reason, likely an ID10T user error code, while doing this, so if you complain about my typos, I will block you just like i do on twitter.  I am a typo machine, get over it.

I am writing this post because a couple of people have asked me about the origins of this “weirdly interesting” (thank you msbourland.tez/.eth for this particular label for my collection, I love it). I usually shit post on twitter all day, and I usually don't write many words on tumblr, I just post photos. I had been sitting on this project for about a year and a half before I did anything with it, and it was because I was thinking about what to do, so I have thoughts to share.

I have always enjoyed stamps and coins. I would not say that I collect them, but I do gather them. Specifically, I would say I gather those smashed penny machine pennies that cost 51 cents and you turn the handle to mush it, and I love wheat back pennies. I have a ton of those too, but no wheat backs were injured in the making of this NFT collection.  Pennies are just cool. I moved with my family from the southern US, 18 hours north to a little state called Maine during the summer of 2020. I will refer to Maine as "Almost Canada" from this point forward. I have always kept myself busy during various life transitional times with art, and that was the same during the summer of 2021, I did the same. I have always been into graffiti, not as a creator, but as a viewing consumer. I do, however, enjoy creating with spray paint and have for about 10 years now. Once the snow melted and the tundra began to thaw in the spring up in Almost Canada, I tried to soak up as much sun as I could and started spray painting everything I could think of. Of the coolest things I had found to spray paint were vinyl records. I started doing this as a test for another artistic friend who was brainstorming for another project. I had all of the materials so I tried it out and sent him photos of it.

the first record test . . .

I saw something I could do with the records, and I had a shit ton of very nasty, not listenable, garbage records (and many good ones). So I started spray painting all of them I could justify destroying. I sprayed about like 40-50 12inches and too many 45s to count. I had no intent for a longer project at the start, I was just doing it, and seeing where that took my creative spirit, with one exception

I made this drum trigger out of a painted record The real point of this long winded tumblr rant is to show off what I needed up doing with the records. I soon found that my heat gun would warp the hell out of the wax

I thought “Maybe I should mold them into a sculpture?” So I made a sculpture, one that is about .75 meters tall and wide and a few smaller pieces. This is hanging in my garage currently, my wife won’t let it in the house, and that is a wise move, iMO.

Up to this point, I used a whole hellava lot of words to lead up to the pennies getting painted. I am a walking train wreck, that is how I roll. Eventually I ran out of records that I could justify destroying, so I started spray painting anything I could find trying to brainstorm. I started experimenting with various paper types too. You know what happens outside though, it sure gets windy, and the wind loves to blow my bad pop art around my neighbors yards. Rocks do not work that great as outdoor paperweights for in process works, they sit to high and block the spray depending on your angle. Do you know what works pretty well for holding down paper in normal breezy day inland with out standing is your line of fire while paining? Pennies, pennies work great. And you know what? It is just a penny, you can just throw it away after things dry and that is perfect because I have about 1/8 of a metric ton of pennies in my closet. I don't even remember what I was working on and using pennies as paperweights on, because when I came back to check what ever it was, the pennies had dried, and now Lincoln was a Pink AF, or Green, or Sea Foam, and the 10 that had got hosed down looked pretty damn slick.

I had no idea of what to do with these pennies at first, I thought they were cool though. So did my kids. I live in Almost Canada, and I knew my outdoor oxygen friendly spray painting station would end at some point early fall, so I started painting a few pennies every day when I was working on papers or a canvas. At some point, I was just painting pennies till it got cold. I still have not counted how many pennies I painted, but I have minted 85 at the time this tumbler was tumbl'ed.

          The Teledildoepiphany

The idea to mint just the scans of the pennies came from me doing what I usually do on twitter, I just post a bunch of random things I make or have made and shill a little and talk shit a little, so I posted these. I was still looking for something to do with them. Two people, Santiago @neymrqz and the marvelous ty/fu @tyfu67607885, also two of my favorite people in this whole damn wild world of anons, commented that they were really very good art'ing. The first couple of pennies I posted, Santiago DM'd me and said they were really good, and asked me when I was minting them. "just like the scan of them?" and he said "yes, my friend, yes.” This made me think about a decorated $2 bill I had bought a few years back of Micheal Jordan by Rency. It is an amazing piece. I think I paid $20 or $30 for it late 2019-ish.  $20 for a decorated $2 bill, and I laughed at myself for paying the 10x markup. When Santiago told me I should mint them, thought "should freaking mint these? LOL, what if I charge 1 tezos, cause that would be funny AF, charging 1 tezos for a jpeg/png of a penny. That would be really fu . . . oh. shit. yes. yes. mint them , yes . . . "

And here we are now, slightly after midnight on Nov 2, 2022! Once I started minting them, I began to get excited about it because I finally figured out what to do with a concept I sat on for many months. While this may not be the most entertaining story to other reading it, I wanted to write these thoughts down because given the amount of weed a I smoke and codeine dreaming I partake in, I may not remember the spark behind these. I may not remember my seed phrase, but whatever. So, if you made it to this point, thank you for reading my long winded, typo filled, anti climatic rundown on an NFT project that I feel is my most successful to this point. I have been surprised at the interest this collection has gained and how many sales I have had thus far. 25, 1 tezos sales is pretty good volume for me and my work, so I am glad to see others into it and asking questions. Thanks to all of the party people who have bought one, and all of the party people who will buy one in the future. I also wish you all luck in the secondary markets! To conclude, I will borrow a line from my favorite Empress and remind that this art I yapped about above, it is for sale, and you can buy it, with Tezos, and it can be yours!  No one will stop you. The collection “A Penny” can be found here - https://objkt.com/collection/KT1K1Vr44uSbcP5h68xW7eQQMQQUPJTBuNU1

[sociallyawkward--fics]

HEY BACK AGAIN. idk how long its been cuz mobile is trash but me n my friend were talking abt how we were in a lot of the same fandom spaces as kids. Sanders sides being one of them. n i was like..... Long shot but do u know sociallyawkward--fics.. n at first they were like no i dont think so.. but then they looked u up n went OH MY GOD YEA??? ill send u a screenshot off anon but i told them we were friends n they said it was like finding out i knew a celebrity LMAO -H (ironic considering theyre prob more popular on ao3 than u😭 they briefly turned back into a 12yo fanboy)

its still so crazy to me ive known u for so long n met him like 3-4 years ago worlds collide ..... Also u can post this though im off anon if u want idc -H

ALSO. since im here. idk if i ever told u my age but when i sent my first ask to u i was probably 11. maybe 10 even. im turning 18 in a couple months now. its hard to bring myself to read some of the asks (ok most of the asks) i sent u over the years bc i was an incredibly anxious and awkward autistic kid. But u always treated me with so much love hahakjs at the time i was rly struggling n had very few friends n AS MUCH AS IT MAKES ME CRINGE TO LOOK BACK ON u were honestly the only older person i could talk to n it rly meant a lot lol. im so much more confident n comfortable in myself than i was all those years ago n ik i dont send u asks nearly as frequently anymore but tbh even if eventually its only once every few years ill always think back on u so fondly n gratefully. Neway i literally hate being sappy so ill shut up here but yeah. Thanks n such -H

ALSO IDK IF UR ACTIVE ON AMY SOCIAL MEDIA RLY?? BUT IF U R I CAN GIVE U SOME OF MY SOCIALS mostly i just tweet abt my day occasionally on twitter but i also have a sideblog where i post art. just thinking that maybe then i wouldnt have to be like 'and heres a quick summary of the past 8 months' n u could check up on me whenever instead of only seeing me when i send asks😭 -H (its also so less formal cuz when i send in asks u Gotta respond whereas if i post 'just ate a kickass burger' u can just. Like it. idk idc either way but lmk ^__^)

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

I'VE BEEN MEANING TO ANSWER THESE FOR MONTHS SINCE I'VE BEEN USING TUMBLR AGAIN AND MY LACK OF OBJECT PERMANENCE HAD ME KEEP FORGETTING I AM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭

dkjfhkdhf omg that is so wild that you have a friend who also knows about me dkjfhdsf Sanders Sides (back when it was waaaaay smaller of a fandom lol) was the first (and tbh only, really) fandom where i had any real level of "popularity" as a fic writer, and i fed off that high for SO LONG lol -- hearing that people were obsessed with my work, both then and now after the fact, is genuinely so surreal dfkjhdjkfh like. i am just Here, i am just Some Dude who wrote some words that got them weirdly popular at 17-18 dkjsfhdkjfh (also cuz i try to gather all your asks into one post, you continue to remain anonymous just cuz i copy-pasted them into the post in the same order they were received lol)

Dude it is CRAZY that you are almost 18 (or, by the time i am finally managing to answer this with my Bad Brain Powers procrastinating it so long, already 18) -- I looked back and I was 18 when you sent your first ever ask to me dkjfhdf that's so wild. I am so honored that you saw me as an older person you could come and talk to, even if it was just through anonymous tumblr asks for the past 6+ years lol. I always think of you fondly too, and I am so proud of you for the way you've grown up and grown into your confidence

ALSO YOU CAN TOTALLY SEND ME YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA djfdjdsjkf you can absolutely send me any of your socials!!! I know your main blog because you've sent some asks without it (have I ever remembered to follow it??? I meant to but I can't remember, this is also a Brain Forget-y Accidental Procrastination thing), but I would LOVE to see your art sideblog and def feel free to send me your twitter!! I have not opened my twitter in like. 3 months, because i was having Unhealthy Habits so i tucked the app into a pocket out of site and stopped using it for a while, but I am doing better now and would definitely open it back up more often again to see what you were up to

Also!!! You can always feel free to DM me on any of my blogs/sideblogs here on tumblr, too! You don't have to wait to send an ask (though I love receiving asks from you, don't ever feel like you have to stop even if we connect elsewhere!), you can always DM me on any of my blogs (or on any other socials we may exchange, too!)

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: would you be so kind Ship: obikin Second: Ten years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Anakin Skywalker, a charming young mage from Naboo, but as fate willed, they could not be together. A decade and thousands dead later, Alderaan’s High Court Sorcerer meets a Forger and his excited apprentice. AN: I forgot to post this on tumblr apparently, but here’s the first chapter of my second long WIP I am working on!

Then

The ship was crammed, filled to the brim with people clinging to one another, staring either at the home they’d lost or the home they hoped to be sailing to. Hundreds of ships had left Dromund Kaas already, carrying refugees across the ocean to safer harbors. The tension was high and sharp enough to cut as they sailed away from the doomed country and only relaxed when the pressure of the country’s shields finally left their shoulders.

“An awful sight, isn’t it?”

Anakin startled, instinctually pulled his coat around himself. Were he in a better shape, he would have lashed out immediately, winds, bindings, blood—

But the power flowing through his veins was too constricted, caged like a wild beast. Instead, Anakin just turned to look at the person who’d addressed him. An old woman with snow-white markings and long lekku stared at the dying country just as he had moments before, grief and resignation painting a sorrowful picture. “I never thought I’d leave this place. Did you?”

Wordlessly, Anakin shook his head. No, he certainly hadn’t thought he’d ever leave this place again. He’d been ready to be buried under the ashes of marble altars, not see this new dawn.

“I was born here, married too. All my children were born within the boundaries of this country and perhaps that is the reason they all left,” the woman continued. “I am glad that they weren’t here. If I think about what could have happened to them were they anywhere near the capital… I apologize; I hope you don’t mind my rambling. You looked like you needed company. Are you traveling to Naboo?”

He opened his mouth to reply, to give an affirmation, but stopped. He hadn’t quite thought where he’d go, except as far away from this place as he could. Naboo was certainly an option; Padmé would be glad to see him, he was sure. She’d take him in without asking a single question and defend him against the storms that were sure to come.

But Padmé was his friend and Anakin couldn’t allow her to shoulder his burden.

“No,” Anakin heard himself saying. “I’m not traveling to Naboo.”

“They are quite defenseless right now, yes, you are right. The fact that it’s the first stop of this ship is tempting enough for most to disregard what troubles might find them there.” The woman nodded in understanding. “I’ll be going to Alderaan myself. My eldest lives there, and in a country as strong as that, a tragedy like this can’t strike.”

She turned to look at the remains of Dromund Kaas again. The coastline used to be covered by beautiful large trees; his Master used to tell him how vital they were for its defense.

Now there was nothing but ash and darkness. Even here on the outskirts, where it had taken the longest for the remains of the catastrophe to reach, nobody was safe from it. Dromund Kaas had been in a pitiful state after the last war, which had made it an easy place to hideaway in. Alderaan might be stronger, the blooming center of magical education, but Anakin doubted they’d be able to defend against an attack like this. Nothing could save them from an attack such as this.

But Alderaan’s distance to this cesspit of disease was enough to provide a different kind of security.

Thousands of refugees would search for safety there, and Queen Breha was as cunning as she was kind. No one would be turned away and Anakin could slip in just right with them.

“I’m going to Alderaan as well,” Anakin replied.

The woman looked him over, then she beamed as if she were a young child and not already among the older members of her species.

Her smile was the first Anakin had seen in weeks. “Looks like we’ll be traveling companions then! You must tell me your name, young friend. I’m Raya Tano.”

She held out her hand and Anakin awkwardly shook it with his own left.

“My name is—”

Now

“Anakin Skywalker! Your automaton is ruining my kitchen!”

Sighing, Anakin let the spell sink back into the metal and settle into it. So much for working on his commissions today. A quick glance around the workshop told him that it was not one of his automatons running wild. Artoo was currently charging up and Threepio was keeping himself busy cleaning up. All the other small automatons Anakin crafted when he was bored were either asleep and charging or hurrying around the workshop, washing up the floors and putting away the tools Anakin had been using.

Anakin tugged off his gloves and threw them to a tiny and eager little automaton before picking up his softer everyday gloves. The leather was still quite resistant and had more runes stitched into it than most people dared to weave into one cloth, but they were nowhere near as excellently crafted as his work gloves. The dragonhide gloves were worth a fortune and so they never left his workshop unless Anakin had to. Anakin watched the little automaton put the gloves in their usual compartment until he could hear the click reassuring that the lock was in place. At first, that had only been a measure against thieves as he hadn’t had much to his name, but by now, it was a habit.

And it discouraged Ahsoka from stealing them for her own projects.

Anakin walked out of his workshop and crossed the courtyard to the small cottage he called his home, finding a kitchen in disarray, Raya standing on a chair with a small red automaton attempting to clean the floors.

“Look what a mess it’s making!” Raya said accusingly. “Instead of polishing my floors, it’s dirtying them!”

“I can see that,” Anakin hummed. He waited until the small automaton had reached his feet, then he bent down and pressed his hand flat on its small back, stopping it. Ahsoka’s handiwork was getting better; this little guy had kept moving for a while despite her absence. Anakin had no idea what the formal apprenticeship for forgers entailed, when they ought to hit what milestone, but he was willing to bet that Ahsoka was years ahead of her peers. Her spells were strong, her rune work fantastic, and very few actual weaknesses were left to explore in her automatons.

But Anakin was still a Master and Ahsoka only an Apprentice. Her work was not yet good enough to keep out foreign interference. Without much thought, he deactivated the automaton completely.

“This was your granddaughter’s handiwork,” Anakin commented. “She’s improving in leaps and bounds.”

Raya huffed and stepped from her chair. “I’m glad to hear that, but weren’t you meant to teach her control?”

“I am,” Anakin said, the argument an old and fond one. They returned to it frequently, mostly to annoy the young Apprentice. “And were she still as much of a mess as three years ago, she hardly would be able to craft such a fine automaton. Can’t do anything about her manners.”

Especially since she’d become a teenager. Anakin didn’t remember being as much of a pain as Ahsoka could be.

“And here I was thinking Masters were supposed to teach their Apprentices a medium of decorum.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s what she has you for, doesn’t she?”

Raya’s expression softened. “That she does.”

Anakin sometimes wondered how Raya managed to stay so kind and calm when the world had taken so much from her. Her husband, country, her children— and yet she still stood straight, caring for the fellow traveler she’d never allowed to leave and the granddaughter that had been dumped on her with just a warning for Ahsoka’s generally explosive tendencies.

“Where is Ahsoka anyway?” Anakin asked, looking around the kitchen as if she would jump out in the open any moment. “I sent her on an errand earlier this morning, but she hasn’t returned yet.”

Unfortunately, Raya couldn’t tell him either. “I have no idea where that girl is running around—”

“Anakin!”

Speak of the dark and it shall appear. The door was thrown open and Ahsoka rushed inside, tracking even more dirt all over the floor, causing Raya to throw up her arms in defeat in a way Anakin knew meant Ahsoka would be left with all her favorite chores for the next week.

“Welcome back, Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “You’re late.”

“Yes, yes,” Ahsoka replied and rolled her eyes, obviously disinterested in what he had to say. “I got all you asked for and ordered the new metals, but look at this!”

Ahsoka raised her hand, revealing a ripped-off poster. It was tasteful in design, fine cursive writing on light blues, gold ornaments in the corners and, of course, the royal crest right in the middle of it.

Her Majesty the Queen of the Kingdom of Alderaan, Breha Organa, invites all Alderaani Practitioners of the Mythic Arts to attend the festivities in the capital of Aldera—

“Absolutely not,” Anakin said before he could even read the rest of the text. “We’re not going to Aldera to some festival.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka shot back. “It’s no summit, but it would at least be something.”

Her bitterness did not go unnoticed. Ahsoka had begged for months to attend this year’s summit. Every five, all magic practitioners gathered on Tython to exchange notes on their craft and pretend they were not also discussing the politics of their respective countries, forging alliances and the like. Anakin hadn’t been to the last summit, it having been just after Dromund Kaas, and the one before were tainted by the memories that followed, no matter how sweet the time had been. Ahsoka, of course, had begged to attend this year’s one, but it would only be foolish and reckless. He couldn’t just walk into the biggest gathering of mages in the whole continent and expect to get out of it without anyone realizing who he was, asking questions, concluding what he’d done.

Anakin had too much to hide, too much to lose, and he wasn’t going to risk his little Apprentice for it.

Not that Ahsoka knew any of that and wasn’t in the least satisfied with Anakin’s reply and immediately made her displeasure known.

“What would you even want to see there?” Anakin asked, trying to downplay how entertaining such an event was. “It’ll just be all the posh court sorcerers showing off with their fancy focusing crystals. It’s utterly boring and uncreative.”

“Like you wouldn’t use a focusing crystal if you had one,” Ahsoka muttered, arms crossed. “It’s just— there’s nobody else around here who can do magic. And all you ever do is work on machines.”

“Which requires a lot of concentration as it’s not just the manipulation of one aspect, but—”

“—but many, yes, yes, I know the speech,” Ahsoka said and dutifully listed all elements that went into their craft. There was a reason why not many forgers existed. Most mages lacked the talent, patience, and education to learn this craft, or were just plain afraid that they’d permanently damage their ability to use magic at all.

And with the speed technology was evolving and magic weaponized to terrifying new heights, not too many people still had use for forgers. Where two-hundred-years ago, you wouldn’t have gone out to hunt a dragon with a simple sword, but only with one crafted by a Master forger, nowadays you didn’t necessarily need one. Battle magic was on the rise again, especially with more and more countries growing uneasy, peace treaties falling apart. Combined with the threats from the northern continents, it was no wonder people cared less and less about expensive forgers when they could mass-produce and enchant simpler items.

“I just hoped you’d allow at least this,” Ahsoka finished. Her shoulders dropped. “Should have known better. I’ll go finish my readings.”

Ahsoka turned around, her shoulders still hanging, her head low.

Damn it.

Anakin knew that she was doing it on purpose. His Apprentice was cunning and had learned how to play into his every weakness. Slowly she marched into the direction of the door, dragging her feet behind her for effect and dramatics.

Raya raised a brow at him. She usually stayed out of Ahsoka’s tutelage, knowing next to nothing about magic herself, but even with his past being little more than a mystery to her, she could read him better than anyone else.

“Urgh, fine,” Anakin heard himself say. “Fine, we can go to the festival.”

Ahsoka turned around quicker than light and jumped up. “Yes!”

“But that means you’re not going to bring up the summit again!”

“Yes! Of course!” A moment later, Anakin had an armful of an apprentice. “Thank you so much, Master, you’re the best!”

Once she let go of him, she went to hug Raya and hug even her dirty automaton to her chest, still radiating happiness. “I need to go pack my bags immediately!”

“The festival is not for another week—”

Ahsoka obviously didn’t care. So caught up in her joy, she rushed upstairs, heading to her room to start packing. It shouldn’t surprise Anakin that she was so motivated. Ahsoka was a person who thrived on interaction, being surrounded by other people. While the people of their village were friendly, none of them were mages or even just sensitive to magic. It was one of the reasons Anakin had decided to stay without too much fight. But growing up so far removed from other mages had made Ahsoka twice as curious to meet others.

The thought made his stomach churn. He’d have to give Ahsoka formal lessons about their trade now, just if somebody asked questions that were too pointed. She’d also need a bit of the know-how on how you usually interacted with other mages and which pretentious bastards to call sorcerers before they threw a hissy fit. All these capital folks were much too sensitive about terminology after all. Anakin had never bothered to tell her the differences before, but Ahsoka would kill him if she accidentally embarrassed herself because he hadn’t seen it fit to instruct her properly. Forget teaching Ahsoka how to improve her automaton, the next week would be full of etiquette lessons. Skies, there’d be people trying to steal their spellwork too. Had he even mentioned that kind of theft before? Anakin honestly couldn’t recall.

“Already regretting it?” Raya asked, her voice just a touch amused.

“Just a bit,” Anakin replied.

“It’ll be good for her,” Raya said, convinced and confident enough for the both of them. “And good for you as well. I’ve known you for years now and you’ve never even brought a friend over. I’m not going to be young forever, you know. I do expect to be introduced to your future spouse at some point.”

“And this is my cue to go packing as well,” Anakin announced and followed Ahsoka up the stairs with Raya’s laughter following him.

He had no intention of being with anyone, ever, unless he could find glamours that held up even when majorly distracted. On his way up the stairs, Anakin caught a look of himself in the window, saw black vines curling around his neck, inviting someone to take a closer look.

It was better this way.

[sunnydaisy1]

Arts and Crafts

SAM WILSON X READER

A/N: there is not enough sam fics on tumblr so here I am. I haven’t edited this i am too tired for life right now. Also please send me requests for marvel especially peter parker, sam wilson, bucky, steve and scott.

You yawned as you walked into the main kitchen and living area the avengers shared. Tony had sent a message round to everyone telling them to gather here and considering that the time was 7 o'clock in the morning you weren't best pleased. Nat was leaning against one of the counters and snorted at your sleepy expression as you walked past her to the coffee machine. You glared at her and returned to your coffee making, rubbing your eyes as the machine started pouring caffeine into your mug. Once the steaming beverage was done, you sleepily dragged yourself to the breakfast bar and plopped down into one of the stools. At that moment, Steve, Sam and Bucky entered the room, obviously having just finished a group workout as they were all freshly showered and wafting man smell everywhere. You rolled your eyes at their annoyingly energetic selves and sipped your coffee. When Sam noticed your slumped form at the bar he smiled softly and walked over to you, scooting into the seat next to you and reaching out to take a sip of your coffee. Unfortunately for you, you were too late to prevent the smirking soldier from slurping a large proportion of your beverage. You grumbled and glared at Sam who passed you back your mug with a cheeky grin. "You look cheery this morning." He said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning onto the counter. "Well sorry mr early bird but some of us don't appreciate being woken up at the crack of dawn for a meeting stark called and hasnt even turned up for yet." You snarked back, causing a chuckle to fall from Sam, "It's quarter past 7 love, dawn was 3 hours ago." You glared at him for what felt the 100th time that morning and felt a small heat rise to your face as you saw the obnoxiously handsome smirk Sam held on his face and the way his biceps were bulging as they leaned on the bar top. "Same thing." You mumbled, draining the last drops of your coffee. Tony walked in and Steve grumbled a 'finally' as you all turned your attention to the billionaire carrying some pastries. He dumped them in front of you and Sam and you both instantly reached in to pull out breakfast. "What's this all about then Stark?" Sam asked as he chewed on his pecan twist. "Ive gathered you all here because we have got a charity event today for some of the schools in the area. You all will be hosting an activity for the kids. We have 2 hours until they all arrive." You grimaced as you vaguely remembered Tony mentioning the charity event a few weeks back but you had been so busy on missions recently you had forgotten. Judging by the similar looks on the teams' faces around the room, you gathered that the event had also slipped their minds. "So... Steve and Bucky you will be hosting the self defense taster down in the gym, a few agents will also be down there to ensure you aren't teaching them anything too aggressive..." Tony continued to list off everyone in the room and ticked off his checklist, "Okay and finally, Wilson and Agent L/N will be hosting arts and crafts in the downstairs hall." At once Sam spoke up, "wait why have I got stuck with arts and crafts?" You chuckled at his distraught expression, he obviously thought he was above painting and colouring. "Why you scared of a lil glitter Sammy?" You giggled and he glared at you, hating the effect that nickname had on him. "No...I just think my talents lie elsewhere." He replied causing you to snort. "Well suck it up Wilson." Tony replied and you saw Bucky and Steve wetting themselves on the other side of the room. Sam had obviously noticed too as he had a huge frown on his face and was scowling at them. "Alright everybody go get ready, all your supplies should be in the rooms already. And remember, 2 hours until they arrive." You sighed and stood up, placing your mug in the dishwasher. Sam was waiting by the door, and you nudged him as you both walked out, "Come on Wilson, cheer up, your stuck with me for 6 hours." Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, "Oh great." When you both reached the room, your eyes widened when you looked at the large pile of boxes brimming with craft supplies stacked in the middle of the room. "Jeeezz." Sam breathed out, walking over to inspect the mountain. You both opened the cardboard box lids and scanned the supplies, "Where do we even start?" You asked, baffled at the amount Tony had ordered. "Guess we just start with one box and empty them until it's all set up." Sam replied and you nodded, tying your hair up into a ponytail. Almost 2 hours later, the room had been transformed into a neatly organised explosion with paint, pencils, glitter glue and many other supplies on each table. "Okay, we have 5 minutes until the kiddos arrive." Sam stated, checking the watch on his wrist. "Cool, I'm gonna grab us some water and snacks from the kitchen. Try not to break anything while I'm gone." You teased and Sam playfully rolled his eyes, "Alright." When you arrived back into the room, arms loaded with bags of snacks, you immediately laughed at how awkward Sam looked surrounded by little kids all badgering him with questions. You quickly distributed the food into one of the empty cardboard boxes in the corner and walked over to Sam, giggling at his wide eyed expression of fear. "Hey everyone!" You said loudly, gathering all the little kids attentions, "I'm Y/N and this is Sam. We are gonna be doing arts and crafts with you today, how does that sound?" At once all the children cheered and you glanced at Sam who stood in awe and fear. "Okay then, lets all sit down at a table and we can start." The kids all ran to a chair and you walked over to Sam, "you okay Sammy?" He nodded slowly, "I don't know what I'm meant to do, they're so small." You chuckled and took his hand in yours, dragging him over to a table. "It'll be fine just relax, they can smell fear," You whispered. Soon, each child was creating some sort of masterpiece and you were sitting with a small group of kids who were colouring. "Wow Amy I love your dog it looks awesome." You commented, making the shy little girl beam. "Thankyou." She replied and you smiled, carrying on colouring a picture you had attempted to draw of an elephant. Glancing up to check on Sam, you looked to see he had a girl sat on his thigh as they both coloured something. You felt your heart begin to swell and butterflies fill your stomach as you watched the adorable scene. The girl was happily chatting away to Sam and he was nodding, laughing every so often and replying to many of the kids around the table. "Could you please pass me the green?" Tom asked, one of the boys sitting opposite Sam. "Yep, there you go." the soldier replied and Tom thanked him before returning to his drawing. The little girl sat on Sam's thigh tapped his arm and he looked down to her, "I want to give this to my Mum when I go home." Gracie said and Sam nodded, "that's very nice of you." Gracie blushed a little and grinned, "you should give your drawing to Y/N, then she could put it on her fridge like my mummy does." Sam glanced down at the image Gracie had drawn of Sam and you together that he was colouring. "I don't know about that..." He said and Gracie frowned, "you should give it to her and then she'll want to marry you and stick all your drawings on the fridge." Sam choked on his air a little, "why would she want to marry me because I gave her our picture?" Gracie sighed as if Sam had just asked the most obvious question there was, "because she loves you." "What? No she doesn't Gracie." Sam replied and Gracie shook her head, "Mummy told me when people love each other very much they look at each other in a special way and you and Y/N look at each other like that." Sam gaped at the little smiling girl on his lap and struggled to form any words at how outright she was being, "Oh urh no I dont think so." Gracie then giggled and said, "Plus Y/N was looking at your bum earlier so she definitely wants to marry you." Sam felt heat rise to his face and Gracie shrugged, not phased at all by their conversation. The pair continued to colour together and the topic quickly changed to the pasta Gracie had eaten last night for dinner. When the last few kids were leaving the craft room as it had eventually reached 3pm, you sighed and groaned at the mess of glitter and pens all around you. "I do not want to clear this up." You stated and Sam nodded, standing up from his chair, "Neither, I never knew kids could be this messy." You chuckled and glanced at the soldier walking towards you, instantly breaking out into laughter when you noticed the large red streak of paint across his cheek. At once Sam frowned and stopped next to you, "What?" You giggled and wiped your thumb across his cheek, showing him the red paint he had somehow managed to acquire. "Oh..." Sam said, rubbing the paint with the back of his hand but managing to just smudge it more. You chuckled and shook your head, "Sorry Sammy but your just making it worse." He huffed in frustration and put his hand down, giving up with cleaning his face, "Oh well, I'll wash it off later." Eventually, the room was turned back into a presentable state with only specks of glitter littered across the floor that you knew would be impossible to remove. You yawned and walked to the entrance, followed closely by Sam who turned the light off. "Im exhuasted." He said, trying to stifle a yawn. "Me too, I'm gonna head up for a shower." You replied and Sam nodded, "Alright, I'll see you later, chinese for dinner." You softly smiled and both walked to your seperate rooms, ready to wash off the paint and glitter encrusted into your skin. When you had given up on trying to remove all the glitter from your hair in the shower, you headed into your room and huddled under your duvet, wanting to catch up on some netflix before dinner. A knock at the door interrupted your series selection and you looked up to see Sam standing at your door, a small smile on his face. "Hey y/n." He said, closing the door behind him. "Hey Sammy, did you need anything?" You asked, confused why he looked so nervous. "Oh uh no, I just wanted to give you something." He replied, walking closer to you as you stood up and put your laptop on your cabinet. "Oh okay." You said, smiling under Sam's soft gaze. He handed you a sheet of paper and you frowned in confusion before turning it over and giggling. Sam rubbed the back of his neck nervously watching your eyes scan the drawing Gracie and him had made. "I know its stupid but I wanted you to have it." Sam said quietly and you looked up at his shy smile, "I love it." You grinned and he seemed to let out a breath of relief, "you can stick it on your fridge." You chuckled and rubbed your thumb over the drawing of you and sam standing together. "Thanks Sammy." The aforementioned soldier felt heat rise to his face and saw your eyes flick down to his lips. "Uh I should probably find Nat... see what she urm wants for dinner." You said awkwardly, trying not to focus on the way Sam was chewing his lip and the tight grey shirt he was wearing that unfairly showed off his chiselled chest and arms. "Oh right." Sam nodded, seeming to break out of a trance and opened your door, "I'll uh see you later yeah?" You nodded and he stepped out, looking at you one last time and giving you a small smile before disappearing down the corridor. You looked down at the drawing in your hand again and groaned, heart and muscles aching for you to run after the tall man and press your lips against his. Instead, you shut you door and walked to Nats room. When you knocked on her door, the red haired agent opened it with a knowing smirk on her face. "What's Wilson done now?" She asked and you groaned, stepping in to her room. You held out the drawing he gave you and Nat scanned it quickly before looking up at you in confusion. "Why have you got a drawing of you and Sam?" She asked, frowning. "He gave it to me." You sighed, causing Nat to laugh. "He gave it to you?" You nodded and Nat grinned, "wow he is so in love with you." You rolled your eyes at her sarcasm, "Wow thanks Nat. But seriously how am I meant to refrain from jumping his ass when he keeps doing adorable stuff like this?" Nat laughed and handed you back the paper, "You just need to go and tell him or you'll spend the rest of your lives dancing around each other and not doing anything about it." You sighed, "I know. But what if he doesnt like me back then I've just screwed up our friendship and the team dynamic." Nat nodded sympathetically, "I know it's scary but come on that man loves you to death and somehow everyone but you can see it." You looked down at the drawing again and nodded, "Fine, but if i end up dying on the spot from embarrassment after his rejection I'm blaming you." Nat rolled her eyes and pushed you out the door, shouting a 'good luck.' You nervously walked down the corridor and up the short staircase to the kitchen. Sam was leaning against the table, looking at something on his phone with a frown. Your heart instantly sped up and stomach did a hundred flips. You walked softly into the shared dining area and coughed lightly. At once, Sam looked up and smiled. "Urm I uh need to tell you something." You nervously stuttered, avoiding looking into his deep eyes. "Oh okay." Sam said, mind instantly running with negative ideas that you were hurt or he had done something wrong. "I urm well I... I think that you're urm." You looked up at him and his concerned eyes met yours. "Please could you uh turn around." Sam's face flitted with confusion, "wait what?" "I urm I cant talk with you looking at me like that." You said and Sam frowned but turned around. "Okay." He softly said, and you scanned his form, trying to build up the courage to tell him. "I guess I well I just want to say that I think you're the most lovely person in the world and I dont think that I could live without you Sam. You make me feel so comfortable and calm me down when I feel like the world is collapsing on me. You never fail to make me smile and I feel like the room lights up when you walk in. I love how kind and sweet you are to everyone but also how you make the stupidest jokes in the world and laugh your head off. I'm in love with you Sam and want to spend the rest of my life with you." You looked up to see Sam turning around to face you. You couldnt bear to meet his eye, knowing any possible friendship was now gone. A soft hand touched your cheek and lifted your head up, making your teary gaze meet his. "I'm in love with you too Y/N and I never want to leave your side." Sam pressed his lips against yours softly, making your heart stutter with happiness. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, deepening the kiss as his hands squeezed your hips tightly. "Hey sam whens the chinese.... oh." Bucky said, his voice trailing off when he saw his best friend passionately kissing you. He wolf-whistled and chuckled, "Took you guys long enough." Sam broke apart from your lips, resting his forehead against yours, "Fuck off Buck." Bucky sniggered and walked out the kitchen again, hand raised in surrender. You opened your eyes to see Sam looking at you, "I love you." You spoke softly, "I love you too" before pressing your lips against his again and smiling into the kiss.

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 19//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

A little late today, and with some minor tumblr glitches ><, but here’s chapter 19! Enjoy loves! 

XXX

Being on strict bed rest was going to be a lot harder than I originally anticipated.

After the first couple of days, wherein Madja assured my mate and I that I was making excellent progress in my recovery, I began to grow mindlessly bored. During those first few days, Rhys continued his vigil at my side, but mercifully slept and ate when I did. He reopened his line of communication with our friends in the estate, talking with them mind-to-mind and updating them on my condition. He also relayed any messages they had for me, allowing me past his mental shields so I could hear their words directly. After hearing Mor practically beg to see me after the umpteenth time, I informed my mate that it was time to put an end to our isolation period. His male-bonded instincts made him reluctant at first, but after I reminded him of the instructions given to him by our healer—to allow our friends, our family, to take care of the both of us, he acquiesced.

Now, a week later, I was more than content when they took turns visiting me. Sometimes they would visit in pairs—my sisters, Mor and Amren, Cassian and Azriel, or sometimes all at once; I was almost never bored now that I had their company. However, this period of confinement to my bed set the others on a new protective edge I had never seen before. Before the incident, they had all done their best to help me whenever I was uncomfortable, or when some pregnancy-related symptom reared its ugly head. When I would mention the strange dreams I had at night, Amren brought me a book on the philosophies of dreaming and what they might mean; while Mor theorized how we could interpret them. When a certain flower in Elain's garden had stirred nausea in my stomach, she removed them. When I watched Azriel and Cassian training in the pit and somehow grew a charlie-horse in my calf from sitting too long with my legs tucked underneath me, Cassian massaged the spot while Azriel offered advice on how to stretch my muscles safely while I remained unable to train during my pregnancy.

Their care was subtle; it was the little things here and there that they did for me while Rhys waited on my hand and foot—or as much as I would allow him to. Now that I was restricted to my bed, only allowed up to use the washing room or to bathe, they all tended to me. They wanted to help in whatever way they could, sometimes bringing me food and drinks when they visited, or sometimes bringing different books or other forms of entertainment. My appreciation only grew when, after the third day of my lying-in and receiving another excellent progress report of my recovery from Madja, Rhys finally left my side in order to meet with Palace Lords or with his Commander of armies and spymaster.

Velaris was still working towards rebuilding and managing repairs after the fire. Not unlike the first attack from Hybern, there were many shops, studios, and galleries that had been destroyed. Thankfully, the studio Ressina and I had established for the children of Velaris only suffered minimal damages, but my heart ached at the thought of those whose establishments were beyond repair. After a decade of peace, of healing from the war, they now had to start all over again. The only thing quelling my grief was the knowledge that Rhys and I had the funds necessary to allocate towards helping make those repairs and helping those who were now misplaced by the fires. That, and the societies that had been formed after the war worked tirelessly with volunteers to restore the Rainbow to its former glory. It would take time, but I was glad to know that, only a week after the attack, our citizens were determined and inspired to work together despite this tragedy that had befallen them—again.

"Are we starting this morning with those somber thoughts, my love?" Rhys asked softly, his arm draped around me as we lay in bed.

I was still too tired, too weak, to try and hold up my shields of adamant—so instead I left them down, allowing Rhys to hear my concerns or complaints through my thoughts. I sighed as I turned to face him, smiling lazily as those powerful hands gripped my hips gently to help me turn.

I touched his cheek gently, his violet eyes half lidded—still heavy from sleep. "I just feel...terrible," I started. "I can't help them by volunteering like I did after the war."

Rhys nodded his understanding, moving the hand on my hip to my stomach. "No one expects that of you, Feyre, especially in your condition. Even if you weren't on bedrest, they would probably insist you take it easy regardless," he said before moving his hand from my stomach to my cheek.

"You saved the city from burning to the ground. That was a sacrifice our people know you made given your current circumstances, and they are so grateful," he pressed a kiss to my brow. "The last thing they want is to see their recovering High Lady lift another finger."

I gave him a wry smile, "It's the last thing that they want or that you want?"

He kissed me full on the lips before offering a feline grin. "Semantics. Now let me say good morning to my son," he said before caressing my stomach, angling his head to stare at it lovingly.

He beamed when he felt that glimmer beneath his touch, our son greeting him before moving around excitedly. "Good morning, Bash," he said as he continued to stroke the swell of my belly.

"I'm still not sold on the nickname," I said as I brushed my fingers over the tattoos on his shoulder.

"We could go with Bastion, that also has a good connotation associated with it," Rhys suggested with a smirk.

I laughed and pinched his shoulder. "Our poor son will be so confused by his own name," I half-heartedly lamented.

"Nonsense, he'll know that his name comes with strength, regardless of a nickname. Won't you, Bash?" he asked my belly before lifting my dressing gown in order to place a tender kiss on my bare skin.

I smiled as he came back to give me another kiss and I melted into him with a rueful sigh. Along with limited mobility and being subjected to my bed, Madja had informed us that we also could not engage in "other mated activities." As much as I enjoyed other forms of intimacy with my mate that didn't involve sex, I couldn't help but feel an ache from our lack of activity.

"I miss it too," he purred in my ear and I shuddered.

He pulled away with a roguish grin and I pouted—actually pouted as I watched him disappear into the bathing room for a few minutes before reappearing and dressing for the day. Now that he allowed himself to part from me, he met daily with Cassian and Azriel to go over reports, taking extra care to look out for any updates and intel gathered from the Autumn Court. After what Beron pulled on us, Mor sent out an initial warning to the other courts while Rhys and I were incapacitated. We didn't know where the male would strike next, so as third-in-command, Mor warned them of the possibility that they might be targeted. Mercifully, the High Lord of Autumn hadn't unleashed Vassa onto the other courts—according to their responses, but that left all of Prythian on edge.

Cassian had implemented his security protocols along our borders, working with the legion of Illyrians he recruited and trusted hadn't turned with the rebels. Our neighbors and other allies had done the same, leaving all eyes on the Autumn Court. Azriel and his network of spies were continuing their work in the shadows, gathering whatever information they could, but as far as any of us knew, Autumn had closed themselves off from the rest of the continent. Their own borders were tightened; wards set in place above their territory as well, making it even more difficult for Azriel to work. However, according to letters being exchanged with the other courts, Helion offered his assistance to the spymaster; having made the plans to infiltrate those borders last night.

The meeting this morning would be crucial; detailing whatever Azriel had been able to gather, along with more reports from the Hewn City. As stated by the shadowsinger's recent reports from his network of spies established in the Court of Nightmares, Keir had cut all ties with Beron, and we had yet to know if that was prior to or after the attack the Autumn male had released on us. Hopefully this morning's briefing would answer that question.

"Hold the meeting here," I said to Rhys after he finished buttoning the collar of his black tunic.

He hesitated, but before he could protest, I cut in. "I'll stay here in bed, I promise. There's plenty of room in our suite for Cassian and Azriel to come in and go over the reports."

Rhys sighed and sat on the edge of the bed as I pushed myself upright. "Madja instructed you to turn over your duties as High Lady, for the time being. No additional stress, remember?"

"Yes, I know, but you're just going to inform me of everything that's said regardless. That's what you've been doing, remember?" I challenged.

His answering smile was crooked. "You're right," he started, his hand coming to rest on my stomach again.

I eyed him warily, "I'm sensing a 'but.'"

He sighed. "But I don't want whatever Az comes back with to stir up any stress and cause you harm."

I crossed my arms, noting how they now propped over the mound of my stomach. "So, you were planning to sugarcoat it for me later?" I asked with a raised brow.

"No of course not, Feyre." He sighed heavily, running a hand over his slick dark hair.

Through the bond I could feel him battle with his instincts—his primal need to protect me and our son in our already fragile state. I softened a bit as I watched him struggle to find words before I placed a hand on his.

"I've made great improvements this week, Rhys. Madja confirmed that soon I would be able to return to a light workload, so let me start small. I'll stay in bed while the three of you go over the reports, just these reports, and then you can go about the rest of your duties today and I'll spend the afternoon with my sisters here." I suggested, remembering the ways my sisters had insisted I ease-up on my workload and knew that I would need to implement them for the duration of my pregnancy. The bed rest had enforced this with stricter rules than I originally expected, but I had to admit it was nice to take a step back. Once the strict confinement was lifted however, I wanted to at least handle a little bit of my responsibilities as High Lady until my time came nearer.

"Just this one meeting, in the comfort of our room, is all I ask Rhys." I offered with a squeeze of his hand.

He nodded and squeezed my hand back. "This one meeting, and maybe a couple more after your bed rest is over." He said, having heard my thoughts through my unshielded mind.

I rolled my eyes but nodded in agreement as he helped out of bed, holding me under my elbows as I slowly moved from the edge of the bed to a standing position before him. A part of me felt moving this slowly was an exaggeration but necessary.

"It is," Rhys said, flicking the tip of my nose as I stood before him. "Necessary."

I stuck my tongue out at him, "Stay out of my head. Just because I'm too weak to throw my shields up doesn't mean every last thought is up for grabs." He laughed and moved an arm around my waist as we made our slow trek to the adjoining bathing room.

I had been a bit mortified, at first, when Rhys had to help me perform basic functions—like sitting on the toilet, but my mate hadn't been deterred. After a decade of helping me change out of blood-soaked undergarments during my cycle, I shouldn't have been so flustered, but this felt so different. Still, Rhys didn't so much as bat an eye when he helped me to relieve myself or when he helped me into the tub to bathe—that he actually enjoyed. After a week, I still flushed on our trips to the bathing room, despite his constant reassurance that I shouldn't be embarrassed of my bodily functions—especially in front of him.

After I bathed, which he still tried to insist he do for me—to which I always retorted that I wasn't an invalid despite being on bed rest, he led me back to our room and I sat in my robe as he dug through my armoire.

"Find me something more official," I said. "Not just leggings and a blouse."

Rhys threw an amused brow at me over his shoulder. "You mean something more befitting of a High Lady?"

"Yes, though I'm not on duty right now, I can still dress like one from time to time," I insisted.

He only chuckled before pulling out a simple turquoise colored long-sleeved day dress that would fall just below my knees. Despite the warm weather the end of summer provided, the material was lightweight and would be comfortable enough to wear in bed. I nodded in approval and he brought it over to help me change. Just as he helped me over to the lounge placed at the foot of our bed, a familiar knock came at our door. Based on the weight of it, I knew it was Cassian.

"That was quick," I said to Rhys as he snapped his fingers—his magic making our bed and organizing it neatly.

"I let them know we were meeting in here today," he said with a wink before going to answer the door.

I smoothed out my dress as he led the Illyrians in and sat up a little straighter when I saw Cassian holding a small pastry box in hand. He grinned the second he noticed me staring at it and walked it over to me.

"Your sister, Nuala and Cerridwen made a raspberry braid early this morning and insisted I bring you a couple pieces," he explained as I took the box eagerly from him.

I sighed deeply as I opened the box, inhaling the sweet and buttery scent of the pastry and smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Cassian," I said before taking a piece and biting into it.

"How are you feeling?" Azriel asked as he fell in step beside Cassian, the latter then going over to the medium sized table Rhys and I had set up on the other side of the room to spread out the stacks of reports.

"Still worn out, but good." I said reassuringly. "Do you have an update for us?"

I saw his shoulders tense at my question, and he exchanged a wary glance with Cassian before they both faced us. "Helion was able to create a weak spot in the wards around the borders of the Autumn Court, allowing my spies in, but that's where the good news ends."

Rhys and I shared a frown as he stood beside the lounge I sat on, gripping the back of it a little tighter than he meant to. "Well?"

Cassian swore under his breath. "It seems Beron found Eris's attempts to rally their armies against him, lost his mind, and launched an all-out civil war against his own bastard son."

I blinked. "The Autumn Court is battling within themselves?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"He knew trying to depose his father in order to take over as High Lord would be tricky, which is why he called in the favor to us so long ago," Rhys explained.

"Right, but they're actually fighting each other now?" I asked again.

Cassian nodded and Azriel crossed his arms over his broad chest. "It's absolute hell in their territory. Eris is not doing so well with his armies, especially now that his father has recruited the sorcerer who controls Vassa, and my spies indicate that he is drafting a letter to send to the other High Lords of Prythian," he said. "Including us."

I felt Rhys's shadows grow darker, "I assume that means Keir isn't aiding either one of them?"

Cassian scoffed. "That bastard dropped out of their deal the moment he saw the instability in Beron's court. My guess is he's waiting to see who ends up taking over the seat of High Lord before trying to form a new alliance."

A spark of relief went through me, but it was short-lived as I asked, "Does that mean Keir is stalling his plans for the coup?"

Azriel gave me a somber look, "My spies found that he is restructuring plans with Kallon to move sooner rather than later. If the other high lords aid Eris in fighting his father, that leaves us with diminished assistance in our fight against him."

The bit of pastry I ate now roiled in my stomach as I sat back against the lounge, completely taken aback. "What do we do?" I whispered.

"We still have time," Rhys said. "I'll write to the others. They won't all decide to help Eris, they don't trust him. Especially after what happened at the summit."

"Helion already promised us his forces, if that should be the case. He was there when Az received the report, and he's informed Thesan as well." Cassian reassured, Azriel nodding in confirmation.

The nausea in my stomach alleviated a bit. Two additional courts against half the Illyrians and Keir's Darkbringers. I recalled the memories of the two armies working together on the battlefield against Hybern; remembered their might and Cassian's claim that success in battle was often decided not by numbers, but by picking where to fight. The Illyrians and Darkbringers would no doubt thrive in their home court.

"He also told you knowing when to fight was equally as important. Brute that he is, Keir won't strike until he believes he has the upper hand. It's why he's held off as long as he has and will continue to until he can guarantee what is happening in the Autumn Court will put us at a disadvantage." Rhys explained, hearing the rising anxiety in my thoughts, and gripped my shoulder gently.

Cassian and Azriel must've realized what I had been thinking, because they then each nodded in approval. "There isn't reason to panic just yet, Feyre." Cassian reassured. "It's bad news, but Rhys is right. The prick won't make any moves until he has assurance that he'll get what he wants."

I nodded, the dread that had been building up in my chest beginning to ease. I sighed as I sat up a bit. "You aren't all just saying this to make sure I don't get hysterical and go into spontaneous labor again, are you?"

"I would never lie to you, Feyre." Azriel answered without hesitation as Rhys squeezed my shoulder lightly. "That includes not sugarcoating the truth."

"You're my High Lady. I will always be upfront with you," Cassian promised.

I sighed and gripped the hand on my shoulder, squeezing it as I met Rhys's eyes. They were hardened amethyst, but conveyed the same promise.

"In the meantime, we set up wards around Velaris. I don't want to take even the slightest chance. The bastard will know what it means, and he can stew in his rage for all I care. He won't be a problem for much longer," Rhys said, his voice dangerously dark.

I gulped but dipped my head in agreement. "We write to the other courts as well, like you said. As soon as this mess in the Autumn Court is resolved, we'll gather and confront Keir and Kallon, and put an end to this once and for all." I said.

We all exchanged the same grave expressions, knowing that we'd be rid of these insurgents—soon.

XXX

I had wisely chosen to spend the rest of the day with my sisters. While Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel immediately went about executing the next phase in our plans to finally put an end to this coup. Cassian and Azriel left only minutes after Rhys called an end to our meeting, going to work on securing and preparing the city for the wards my mate would put up. I managed to convince Rhys to eat a bit of breakfast before he officially started his day. Not only was he going to send out letters to the other High Lords, Clotho aiding him in writing those letters, but also planned to meet with the Palace Lords of Velaris and inform them of the wards to be set in place—today. We, along with the other courts, were now officially preparing for war.

I tried not to think about it as I sat on the chaise lounge of my suite's sitting room with Elain and Nesta, trying to focus on Elain's excitement about finalizing the details of her plans to transform the sitting room into a nursery.

"And I think the cradle should go here in the middle of the room." Elain explained as she moved over the plush carpet in the center of the room, positioning herself to show the precise location.

I nodded, running an idle hand over my stomach as I felt a glimmer of excitement inside of it. "I like it," I said tiredly. After the meeting this morning, I was already sufficiently drained of any energy.

"I would think you'd be more excited about it," Nesta said coldly from her seat on the lounge adjacent to me. "Considering Elain made all these plans for your child."

I narrowed my eyes at my eldest sister, wondering how much longer I would be able to tolerate the icy rage she bore towards me ever since I had been placed on bed rest. Whenever she and Elain would visit my bedside, Nesta remained indifferent—hardly saying more than a few words at a time to me, and almost all of them hostile. Thinking back to her behavior at the cabin just a little over a week prior, the concern she expressed for mine and my child's health, had me wondering what had caused her flip in attitude so suddenly.

"It really wasn't any trouble," Elain began carefully, sensing the tension stirring between us. "The baby is our niece or nephew, and I wanted to contribute something."

"Thank you, Elain," I said before sliding my eyes back to Nesta. "And for the record, I am excited, but I'm also exhausted. In case you haven't noticed." I motioned to my stomach for emphasis.

Nesta didn't look impressed, instead taking a sip of her tea with a shrug. "I'd say you only have yourself to blame for that."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I snapped, sitting up a little straighter.

Elain took a step towards me; Nesta snapping back at me with equal vigor. "I mean it's your own fault for the state you're in now. You didn't have to be confined to your bed, your body working overtime to recover from a near-loss that could have been avoided."

I stared at her, mouth agape in complete and utter shock. "Nesta, please. We can't be upsetting Feyre right now in-" Elain started but Nesta cut her off with a scoff as she stood.

"Why should I coddle her?" She asked before directing those deadly grey-blue eyes at me. My eyes—stirring with Nesta's own dark power that swirled under her delicate fae features. "We warned you to be careful, to take a step back and let the others here handle your vocations as High Lady, and not two damn minutes later you winnow away and use your powers."

"I did it to save my city." I said, my voice barely above a whisper as my throat grew tight at her words. "Our city. Our home. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Not when it could've cost you your youngling!" She barked. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are that you didn't? That your youngling survived, despite the risk, meanwhile females like me-" she stopped herself, realizing her words.

Elain covered her mouth and I blinked, a few traitorous tears slipping down my face. I recalled Cassian's revelation from months ago as Nesta clenched her fists and turned away, going to the tea cart placed on the other side of her lounge chair.

"Meanwhile females like you who can't have their own?" I said softly.

Her shoulders stiffed, but she didn't turn to meet my gaze. "Who told you that?" She asked, her voice not as fierce as it had just been—a crack in her hardened veneer.

"Is that why you're mad at me Nesta?" I returned, deciding I wouldn't dance around this issue any longer. "Because I put my child at risk, without any consideration to how it might make you feel. You who can't bear her own youngling?"

I saw her head dip below her shoulders slowly, the hand holding a teacup trembling before a tiny crack formed. I sighed shakily, sniffing as I forced away my tears with a gulp.

"Nesta, I'm so sorry," I began. "The last thing I wanted was to hurt anyone. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone secretly felt the same way. What I did...was dangerous. You're right, I could've lost my child...my son."

Elain turned her teary gaze to my stomach. "It's a boy?"

"Yes, and I know in that moment my instincts as High Lady overshadowed my instincts as a mother, and I," I choked back a sob as I rubbed the swell of my stomach gently. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself, even if everyone else has. But I won't blame them if they don't—if you don't."

Elain wiped a few tears away as she sat beside me, placing her hands over mine and squeezed them gently, while Nesta's shoulders gradually lowered. "I'm sorry," I whispered again.

"I felt that way once." She said, her voice gravelly as she finally turned to face Elain and me. The fire in her blue-grey eyes now smoldered with that sorrow I had seen before; on that day we learned that Viviane had given birth to Eira.

"I once thought I would never forgive myself...after I lost my youngling." She ignored Elain's quiet gasp as she stared out the window, wrapping her arms around herself. "It was years ago, after the war. While I was with Cassian in the Illyrian mountains. As a human, my cycles were few and far between, and after I was made, they stopped altogether." She cleared her throat with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"I assumed long ago that I would never be able to carry a child, had made my peace with it...until I woke up one morning in a pool of blood. The look on Cassian's face when he-" her voice faltered and I saw her throat bob, staring up into the sky for a minute before she was finally able to move on. "The Illyrian healers said it was very early on, only six weeks at the most, and later Madja confirmed that my body was...incapable of ever bringing a youngling to term."

She turned to face me. "It was part of the reason why it took me so long to return from the mountains. Knowing you and your High Lord wanted a family of your own, knowing I could return and see you with child," she paused as she stared at my stomach. "My outlook changed over the course of that year, and thanks to that brute, I...was able to face you all again. Even with the loss weighing on him just as heavily, he managed to work past it and pull me up through those depths I was already well into after the events of the war.

"When I learned you were pregnant, I thought it would cause me pain, but instead I saw it as an...opportunity. It wasn't until then that I realized I finally forgave myself for the loss, realized it wasn't my fault, and I was grateful." Our eyes met again, meaningfully, and I motioned for Elain's help as I slowly scooted to the edge of my seat.

Elain jumped to her feet and gingerly helped me to mine. Nesta sucked in a breath, prepared to protest as I made a step towards her, but she instead crossed the room in a couple of strides and embraced me. Tears I hadn't realized were already in my eyes fell as Nesta squeezed her arms around me—careful not to put any strain on my middle, and only a few seconds later Elain's arms encircled us both as best she could.

"Forgive yourself, Feyre," Nesta breathed before pulling back enough to meet my stare. "And take care. Let the others, let us, take care of you and your son."

I nodded with a sob before Elain pulled her back into our embrace and we all held each other—like we had all once done so, so long ago.

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

I absolutely LOVE Sketchy Saturdays and I always look forward to them!! As for my question(s)? What made you decide to start doing it(I'm glad you do but I was just curious!)?

Hoooo boi the Sketchy Saturday Origin Story: I suppose there's two versions.

The short version reads " Moving stress, deployment depression, and isolation VS. my utter determination to DO SOMETHING whilst trapped in my home " -- Sketchy Saturday was the result of that title fight, so I guess the fandom won in the end? XD

The long version, however... Well, buckle up, cause this is gonna be a ride.

It may surprise y'all to know that two years I was eyeballs-deep in the South Park fandom. The blog still exists; my mainblog, JustCallMeButtlord, built to interact with the audience of my fanfictions-- the New Kid Stories, called NKS for short [gonna be porting those to Ao3 soon, just gotta figure out what robo-reader I'm gonna use to make a quick n dirty podfic out of the series as well as help me hunt down typos my eyes galze over]. The first 'season' of stories had ended, 8 completed fics, and I was puttering about with a bonus holiday story that was several months out of season. Not that I CARED because I was on GUAM where seasons don't exist and my time blindness gets even worse becasue without seasons changing it feels like time never progrsses even after being on the island for three cocksucking years.

I don't hate Guam, I am just not built for constant heat. I am a snow creature; I like below-freezing temperatures so I can layer up in fuzzy, fluffy things and drink hot drinks and cuddle loved ones and/or furry animals. It's a lovely island, I adored my first week there... I just wasn't made to live there.

HIlariously, NKS started out of the stress of moving to Guam. Two years and 8 fics later, the place we were renting was no longer within our price range and my hubby and I were forced to move onto base. Under the leader whom I refuse to name, military pay was given a precentage raise... but it was ripped out of bonuses and OCONUS pay. OCONUS is what a military member is paid when they're stationed Outisde the CONtinental United States. This usually means overseas bases like Japan, but it also means Hawaii, aaaaaand... GUAM. So that percentage pay increase for the military at large meant belt-tightening for every service member abroad, and we were forced to move onto base.

In case y'all haven't noticed by now, I'm a raging socialist with some issued with authority. I DO NOT LIKE EXISTING ON BASE. I do not like existing in a place where the national anthem plays twice a day, every day, at 6 AM and then again whenever the hell sundown is that day. And there's an unspoken rule no one tells you that when it plays you're supposed to stop what you're doing, face the nearest set of speakers playing the song, and stare in that direction with your hand over your heart until its over. That, if you're driving, you have to put on your emergency flashers and pull over. No one tells you this. NO ONE TELLS YOU THIS.

And then, before we had secured a place on base but we had set a move out date for the rental house, the Pandemic happened. While we were between homes. The base is talking full lockdown, Guam authorities want to shut down the island but businesses are terrified of not getting the tourist season business, we don't even know if we'll be allowed to move on to base.

Surprise, I stopped writing for a while... but I picked Fallout 4 back up again. I had been forced into the series years earlier by a toxic relationship, but the game itself hadn't been bad-- just the way I'd been forced to play it by someone who was firmly not in my life anymore. When confronted with character creation, I wasn't sure whom I wanted to make... but decided to go back to an old character. A VERY old character, whom I hadn't thought of since I'd finished ME3 at least 4 years prior, and a character I first conceived of when I was 14-ish... which is now about 15 years ago.

Paige.

I've talked before about how well Paige's story maps onto Fo4, but this was before I knew that. I knew the opening, her losing her kid, and that fit with her-- but something clicked while I was playing and the part of my brain that likes to create started wandering off. Soon enough I've got a couple chapters of a ficlet that I'm TOTALLY just writing as a personal one-shot to de-stress, no way I'm publishing this, I don't wanna get distracted from NKS, I got a whole 'nother season to write! Who cares if no one is reading it anymore because South Park Fandom doesn't like continuous plots.... right?

I was burnt out as hell, the move was looming, the Pandemic was getting worse and everything was getting scarier.

Then the news came through that hubby would be deploying again.

He wasn't supposed to, but the Navy decided the safest place for their sailors was the middle of the ocean, so if you WERENT in quarantine you were going on the boat and you were living there. Didn't matter if your spouse would be alone, unpacking a whole home by themselves.

I had a friend on base. We hung out. I met with my DND group on weekends; we all lived on base now, so we could meet up in like five minutes... and then restrictions tightened. You could be fined up to 5 grand for gathering in groups greater than 5, even outdoors, and detained if suspected of going to a home that wasn't yours. I still met 2 of my friends once a week for walks; get outside, be active, talk to other humans, but besides that? I was locked up alone in a new house in a place that I did NOT like existing in.... with a fresh new hyperfixation developing.

I think it was about a week into the new house that I made the new blog. At first I tried to run it side by side with the South Park stuff, but it wasn't long before all my attention was here... aaaand it also wasn't long before I was confronted with a lot of my own despair; of lockdown, of isolation, of watching a broken system crumble and not being able to DO anything about it, and I started to kinda lose my shit. I fuss-- I can't leave things alone, and I couldn't leave this feeling alone; of being fully and entirely helpless and hopeless.

And then I sketched a thing for a friend, and it made them happy. They were having a rough time, too, and I put something together because I couldn't think of anything else. And it helped. It lifted them up, and it lifted me up, too. Someone else had recently reblogged one of those pallet challenges that floats around Tumblr, and I decided FUCK IT LET'S DO THIS THING AND CALL IT SKETCHY SATURDAY!

Little secret, the very first Sketchy Saturday request? Was me. I was so scared no one would noticed the event, I sent myself the very first request, back when the event still took anons. Soon as that first picture was up:

BANG, suddenly four more; some people off anon. I met people that day, talked to them after the very first Sketchy weekend was over, chatted about the games and characters and art and writing and just... felt human for the first time in a really long while.

I figured I'd hold on to Sketchy Saturday until the deployment was over-- once hubby was back, I'd decide whether I was keeping it or not... but he came back, and I was still super into it, and he was supportive, sooooo I kept going! And then we did Sketchy Secret Santa, and people loved it, and my volunteers are excited about being Sketchy Elves and Secret Helpers and just OH MY GOD I DID A THING GUYS. I DID A THING-- that was just me all December and January long lmafo.

AND JANUARY! Because AH HECK, WE MOVING AGAIN! Because hubby finally got orders, and OH MY GOD we're going back to WA... but it's still a move half-way around the globe, and I was SURE I'd have to shut down the event for a month while we got our shit in order and NOPE, because here come the volunteers from Sketchy Secret Santa, and they wanna fill in all month long! Like... I didn't even ask for that shit, guys. They offered it so the event wouldn't have to take a gap.

Jesus I'm getting teary just remembering it.

So yeah. Sketchy Saturday is here because I got really lonely and stressed out while Fallout 4 provided me with some... catharsis for my situation, and then a pandemic happened.

And then y'all happened, and I'm still here. :D

[onewfantaesy]

Yes! Give me all of the old goodies! I want the good, the bad, and the cringe.

u asked for it!!! it’s terrible and horrible but if literally anyone wants me to go more into it i’d be so down to just starting writing shit for it. i’m straight up just gonna copy and paste it from the message i sent like literally 4 years ago also it’s long as hell so it’s almost all going under a readmore there were no line breaks i had to go put in every line break omfg

okay so this is both a bandfic sort of idea but it's also a high school sort of idea so just bear with me pls 

 so like,,,u know how taemin and kai went to the same arts high school??? what if,,,,and this is a big fun fanficy what if 

 but what if okay so taemin and kai are in one class yes because same school year if i remember correctly, then sehun and krystal are in the year below them i'm like pretty sure so they're also both in the same class just for fics sake lmao 

and like,,,they're all just doing their school thing, and taemin and jongin sit sort of next to each other in their class, and by that i mean taemin sits in like the 3rd row by the window and jongin sits in the seat directly behind him so taemin's always turned around during breaks talking with him and playing like rock paper scissors and all that bullshit 

 and okay so lets just saaaaaay there was like an new reality-ish show, like that one show where taemin went to high school again with all those other idols and it was at an arts school, but like this show is for older idols to do other jobs and lmao this is why i don't wanna put it on tumblr or anything because it's so fanficy it's gross but it's so fun to imagine in my head and i wanna just headcanon it with someone who also likes the idea 

 but like so jaejoong ends up being taemin and kai's teacher for like a week or 2 for this show, and then fuck idk Rain is the teacher for sehun and krystal's class and when taemin finds out he's SO JEALOUS 

 "WHAT THE FUCK NO I LOVE HIM MAKE HIM SWITCH TO OUR CLASS" 

"and get stuck with jaejoong, fat fucking chance lee taemin go dance to rising sun or some bullshit why don't you" 

 and also just because why not add more fanficy shit with something that's already so ridiculously fanficy and let's say taemin used to be fairly close with jaejoong before the whole ~lawsuit~ thing happened, and he used to maybe see him and the other dbsk members like once a week because he was close with them and they helped him with dancing, singing, etc whatever cute bonding shit

 and then one day taemin went to go see them and jyj were just gone and taemin was so confused and changmin was upset and yunho was upset but just like "they left the band taemin they're gonna leave the company" and taemin's this lil freshly debuted kid and he just "but they didn't say goodbye?????" 

 and taemin's been so upset with jaejoong since that day because like he feels very hurt about them just leaving and not saying goodbye to him 

 so when jaejoong shows up as his teacher that morning, everyone in their class thought it was just a normal day, and there were cameras in the classroom but they also just assumed that it was something taemin or jongin related because idols in their class and all that so taemin's just turned around playing rock paper scissors with kai, and then the door opens and it's another camera and then a man walking in but it's right after the bell and no one's really looking so they just assume it's their teacher so everyone just "goodmorning teacher" in monotone voices because they have to, and jongin pushes taemin forward so he's facing forward and everyone just 

 "what's going on" 

"taemin what is this!" 

"jongin!! is this a new reality show??" 

 and taekai are just what the fuck because jaejoong is standing at the front of their class and that's definitely not their teacher where the hell is Mrs. Kim 

 and jaejoong explains that it's a new reality show, and he'll be their teacher for the next week or so, and everyone is kind of excited except for taemin and jongin who are like well SHIT because once their company gets a load of this, they're gonna be in a load of shit 

 and jongin just leans forward and whispers in taemin's ear "this is a load of barnacles" like that guy from spongebob, and taemin absolutely SNORTS so of course everyone and the cameras and jaejoong turn to him, and jongin immediately falls back into his seat and taemin tries to put on a straight face and jaejoong just 

 "taemin, jongin, is there something you'd like to share with the class?" 

 "no, nothing," taemin says, sending a very annoyed smile at jaejoong. 

 and then when jaejoong isn't looking (but a camera is still pointed at them), jongin leans back forward and just "we're good noodles" and taemin fucking SNORTS SO LOUDLY and slaps jongin away from him and jaejoong just 

"taemin. stay after class, won't you?" 

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH”

 everyone immediately just is like lmao u know how high school students are when someone gets in trouble lmao and taemin just huffs, and when jaejoong turns back around, taemin turns quickly to hit jongin on the shoulder and turn back around before jaejoong can see it 

 and like, taemin and jongin quickly become so annoyed with all the cameras, and like they're honestly just trying to do their work at one point and taemin is slumped over his desk trying to do the work with the person who sits next to him, and he just turns to the cameraman and just 

 "can u get that thing out of my face pls i'm not a cast member on this show"

 "but you're in the class!!!" 

 "i'm not the only one in this class!!" 

taemin is so exasperated like man i'm trying to learn i didn't sign up for this shit and then during a break someone like

 "oh u know those things we sign at the beginning of the year that say we can be on media and shit for the school?? this must file under that, we must be one of the classes where everyone's guardians signed yes" 

 and then at lunch, taemin and jongin go see if sehun and krystal have this same problem and they just walk up to the classroom because it's lunch time and usually the teachers all leave right away and taemin just pushes the door open so dramatically like

 "sehunnie!! you'll never believe who our teacher is this week holy shit!!" 

 and he just runs smack into Rain and just

 "oh my god" 

looks up at him with these wide ass eyes and he's having such a fanboy moment he loves rain so much omg and jongin has to like hold onto him to hold him up because rain just 

"oh, shinee. big fan" 

and walks away and taemin practically fucking FAINTS

 "BIG FAN!! HE SAID HE'S A BIG FAN!! OF ME!!!!" 

 "he said shinee u dipshit"

 "I AM SHINEE!!! I'M GONNA SHIT MYSELF!!" 

 "who's your teacher though don't leave us hanging" 

 and the other three come over and taemin immediately sobers up and just "ugh that fuckhead jaejoong i can't fucking believe this you know who's gonna get in toruble for it?? US. un-fucking-believable" 

 "you know, you never had a mouth like that when i knew you. also, if i recall correctly, i asked you to stay after class" 

 and taemin turns and sees jaejoong and a camera and he just "shit" because dammit he hopes he didn't get caught cursing on camera and now he's gotta have some fake heart-to-heart with jaejoong and he's none too pleased and jaejoong pulls him aside but there's still a cameraman following them and taemin is so uncomfortable and just

 "please i'm serious get that thing out of my face" 

 "taemin it's just for a couple minutes." 

 "what do you want?"

 taemin is just so upset and like he's so on edge because at school he can be somewhat normal but no now he's got an idol teacher and cameras following him around and dammit he just wants to go eat his lunch 

 "i wanted to talk to you about what happened when i left"

 "no, sorry, i'm not doing this" 

taemin just cuts him off and walks away, but jaejoong follows him and just 

 "why not"

 "because!! that's a personal thing, and if you're only gonna talk about it because you're being filmed, then you really don't care at all and i don't wanna hear it. now can i go eat my lunch please, i'm hungry" 

 and jaejoong just sighs and looks at taemin, and taemin's just this sad kid right now looking at him with these big eyes and he looks so upset and jaejoong just 

"okay. go. but no more disturbing the class, got it?" 

 "that wasn't even my fault" taemin grumbles "jongin was the one saying shit not me" 

 "don't let it happen again" jaejoong warns him, but taemin just walks off and goes to look for his lil friends. 

 also!!! kwonho is his friend from school right?? that's the guy taemin sits next to in class lmao i just remembered that, and kwonho is part of their lil group and!!! probably also moonkyu!!! moonkyu can sit next to jongin lmao so that's like the general gist of it i'm sorry this is so long lmao but i've had this idea in my head for probably a year now and it flows a lot better in my head than in writing but yeah i just!!! really wanna talk about it

and also another part of this au deals with a manager and is like mm three or so days into jaejoong being their teacher and maybe fuck idk kang hodong is a lil first year class teacher who taekai barely realize is there until they hear him crashing down the hall on day 2 and everyone in the classrooms goes up against the windows to look outside and see what's going on only to find kang hodong leading a bunch of firsties down the hallway as some form of prank or lesson or no one really knows what's happening, but everyone wishes hodong was their teacher after that 

 and anyways a manager comes one day to pick taemin up for a schedule and taemin completely forgot about it so he's absorbed in the lesson that jaejoong is teaching, and so the manager has to go straight up to the classroom to collect taemin because he forgot to go down to the office to get picked up and the manager just knocks once and opens the door and just

"taemin, come on" because this happens rather often but then he sees who's teaching 

 and taemin "shit" and gathers up his things really quickly and just tries to get out of there without some sort of weird fight thing happening and just "sorry hyung sorry sorry i'm coming!!"

 "what is going on" 

 "what?" 

 "why is HE in your classroom?? and cameras???" 

 "we're on a show hyung can we go please i'm gonna be late" 

 taemin's just got his backpack slung over his shoulder and he's so anxious to just leave because oh no this is the angry manager and he's getting that angry look and oh no "get in the hall"

 and he just grips taemin's arm and shoves him outside and FUCK it kind of hurts and fuck everyone saw and the cameras saw and just fuck 

 "jongin, get out"

 "what, i don't have a schedule today!" jongin is seriously like annoyed like no today is a day off until like 6 pm fuck that "jongin, NOW" and jongin is so freaked out and he just "sorry okay i'm coming" 

and he gets his things and he's hurrying outside and he just "how long has this been goig on??" 

 "what??" 

 "how long have you two been on a show without telling anyone!!" he's getting so angry and taekai are so freaked out holy shit they didn't think it was that big of a deal

 "hey, do you have permission to take jongin out of class?" jaejoong is like worried like is this even legal 

 "you stay out of this" the manager Does Not like jaejoong. not one bit. and the manager like gets so angry and he's yelling at taekai in the hall and another teacher hears it and peaks out to see what's going on and he like grills them for not telling anyone that they were on a show and that jaejoong was their teacher and blahblah 

and he asks if sehun and krystal have been ont he show too and they both just "yeah" and he makes them go get them and so they hurry down the hall to their classroom and knock on the door and they're so nervous when rain looks at them like 

"excuse me what the fuck you're interrupting my lesson" 

 and taemin just "um, we have to, um, a manager is here and, we sort of, have to have sehun and krystal come with us right now, now, like right now"

 and he's so obviously extremely nervous and the other two immediately know which manager it is just by how nervous taemin is and they start packing their shit up and they all hear the manager yelling for them to hurry up, and rain just "you two stay in here. everyone stay in here, you two come with me, you're going back to class" 

 and taemin just pipes up as rain puts his arm around the two of them to guide them back to class and he just 

 "i actually have a schedule right now i'm actually supposed to be leaving" 

 "then kai will go back to class and you can call another manager"

 "um actually, rain, sir, i go by jongin when i'm at school"

 "then jongin will go back to class, and taemin can call another manager to come pick him up" 

 "yes sir, rain, sir, okay, yes" 

 and by now jaejoong and the manager are outside of the classroom arguing, and a cameraman is out recording the whole thing and then rain joins in like

"hey can we just let this one go back to class and let the other go to his schedule why do we have to fight and get the children involved"

 and then the bell rings but it never fucking stops and after a moment of confusion, taemin and jongin just look at each other like 

"holy shit holy SHIT is this real holy shit HOLY SHIT"

 and all the classroom doors close and lock and the blinds on the windows get shut and jaejoong, rain, the manager, and the cameraman have no idea what's going on but taemin and kai run up to their classroom and start banging on the door and just 

 "HEY LET US IN LET US IN OMG OPEN THE DOOR" 

 but their classroom president just "sorry we can't open the door for anyone until the lockdown bell rings again or until the principal says over the intercom that lockdown is over" 

 "hey kids what's going on??" rain is so confused and the camera is going between the boys and the adults

 and taemin just "WAS THERE A LOCKDOWN DRILL TODAY" 

"what??"

 "YOU'RE THE TEACHERS OMG WAS THERE SUPPOSED TO BE A LOCKDOWN DRILL TODAY YES OR NO"

 "i don't know???"

 "OH MY GOD YOU PEOPLE ARE USELESS"

 taekai are just freaking out holy shit because if they're on lockdown that's like serious they never go on lockdown unless it's a drill and they go back to banging on the door begging for their classmates to let them back in but their classroom president keeps saying no despite the fact that many other people are saying they should let them in 

 and taemin just "JAEHYUN YOU PANSY SON OF A BITCH OPEN THE DOOR" 

 "WHY DON'T YOU GO HIDE IN THE BATHROOM, IDOL" 

taemin just "THIS IS WHY I VOTED FOR [insert girl's name here] INSTEAD OF YOU" 

 and the girl just "wait taemin you really voted for me???" 

 "yeah you're WAY BETTER THAN THIS PANSY PIECE OF SHIT" 

 "WHY DON'T YOU TELL THAT TO THE BATHROOM YOU'RE GONNA GO HIDE IN"

“WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING?”

"IM IN CHARGE WHEN THE TEACHER IS ABSENT"

 "YPU ONLY WON FROM LIKE 3 VOTES NO ONE LIKES YPU" 

 and taemin and kai just scream a little bit out of frustration before kicking the door one last time but when they realize that the supposed adults in charge aren't doing anything they just 

 "fuck this we're hiding in the bathroom until this is over have fun ARGUING IN THE HALLWAY"

 and they run down the hall to go hide in the bathroom and lock the door and then over the intercom the principal just 

 "there is a man trying to take our student idols without authorization. the proper law enforcement officers have been notified, but do not let any of your student idols go with a man who says he is here to pick them up. this is not a drill. teachers, lock your doors, and keep your students away from the windows." blahblahblah 

 and taemin and kai are int he bathroom just laughing out of both frustration and a little bit out of disbelief that the school is actually calling the cops on their manager and then someone in shinee calls taemin, probably key, and taemin ends up facetiming with them and the other four see that taemin and kai are int he bathroom at school and just 

 "what the hell taemin you're so late for this recording where are you???" 

 "so long story short, manager hyung got the whole school put on lockdown and me and jongin had to hide in the bathroom because our stupid pansy fuck of a class president wouldn't open the door for us to go back inside of our class"

 "what the hell are you talking about" 

 so taemin and jongin explain the whole reality show thing with jaejoong being their teacher for a week and jinki probably just 

"you're saying jaejoong was your teacher all week and you didn't tell anyone" 

"basically yeah and then the manager u fucks sent to pick me up BLEW UP AT US and it was not pretty can you please tell the NOT ASSHOLE MANAGER that i'm going to be late because THE ASSHOLE MANAGER is probably in the process of being arrested ~~thank you~~ COME GET ME. I'M LITERALLY LOCKED IN A BATHROOM. THIS IS NOT FUN."

 and idk other people they were supposed to be on the show with that are just lingering about are giggling at the misfortunes of the young idols and lmao idk the asshole manager probably gets fired literally all our lil high school idols babies get in trouble for not telling anyone they were being filmed at school for a tv show and taemin makes up with jaejoong yay happy ending i just wanna talk about this so bad 

Tbh I mostly just enjoy the image of taemin and Kai being followed by a cameraman as they run through the halls in their school uniforms to the bathroom because their asshole class president won't let them in because of a technicality and just shouting "This is BULLSHIT" and scrambling to lock the door to the second floor boys bathroom

Also just taekai and their two other friends goofing off before class and forgetting a camera is there and they're talking about a new movie or something and taemin just

 "IT! WAS! SO! KICK! ASS" and alternating between fists to punch the air in front of him and they all like re-enact scenes they liked or whatever 

 And they're just being dumb boys u know and then the teacher and jaejoong come in and they all immediately scramble to sit down in their seats and just It's a really funny contrast to what they act like as Exo/shinee u know

And then Kai just "wait when did you go see that movie??" 

 "I went with kwonho on Sunday" 

 "WHY WASNT I INVITED??" 

 And moonkyu just "OR ME??" 

 "I'm sorry but you knew going into this 4-person relationship that I would have to split my time up between the three of you" 

 "Taemin fuck off" 

 Taemin is just unphased and continues "and that sometimes one might get more attention than the other" 

 "You are the worst" 

 "Thank you I'm taking that as a compliment" 

 And just uwu the four of them being smart asses together

And taemin just shakes his head and closes his eyes and shrugs like "I am a busy busy man" 

 And Kai just scoffs like "hey busy man, did you finish the math homework?" 

And he waves around the paper that has half of his homework done 

 And taemin just Pauses 

 "I am a busy busy man who forgot there was math homework" 

 And he leaps forward and takes a piece of paper of moonkyu and a pencil and just "lemme see lemme see lemme see!!" 

Because they have math first and fuck he totally forgot and there's only 5 minutes before class starts 

 And moonkyu lets them copy his homework and then the class president comes over and just "Excuse me IDOLS are you CHEATING?" 

 And taemin just makes a face at him and goes back to it, but before anyone can really say anything about, another classmate comes over and just "Oh shove off asshole, you copied my history homework at lunch yesterday" 

 And everyone just snorts, and he goes shuffling off to his desk 

Everyone hates the class president because right after he won he became a dick about it and everyone regretted voting for him 

 And the girl who ran against him just "I told you to vote for me" 

 And taemin turns to his friends and just "I told you to vote for her" 

 "Taemin shut up"

 "Never trust a man who only wears glasses in class!!!" 

 Kwonho just Shoves taemin closer to the window

[ask-de-writer]

SEE STORY (Part 3 of 5) A tale from the World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

See Story

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

Cover art by @wind-the-mama-cat​

14372 words

copyright 2023

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may   reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge   for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

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Sea is a colony assumed lost somewhat over a thousand years before this tale opens.  They were sent on a one way trip, not knowing that there was no land at all on the whole world of Sea.  Thus, aside from humans, NO CREATURE OF SEA IS IN ANY WAY ITS NAMESAKE.  They were simply named for a superficial resemblance to some Earthly creature by the early colonists.

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New to SEE STORY?  Read from the beginning HERE.

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Barad looked like he had bit into a spoiled seaweed salad.  “I expected as much.  The Grandalor has many resources that could be placed at your disposal to further your business, but only if we know what it is that we are getting into.  If your crew will allow it, we may be of assistance.”

“I can speak to them.  I will. Do not expect too much though, the Grandalor does not have the proper nets for our work.  Also, I know that my crew is aware of the Grandalor’s reputation.”

“What do you mean by that?” demanded Barad with some heat.

“In the Gatherings they say it is preferable to deal with a Strong Skin than the Grandalor … and the Strong Skin will eat you alive.”

“Well,” said Barad sourly, “what net might it be that we do not have?”

“A bottom dragger.  Yours was fouled and lost, trying for crabs, two weeks ago, or so I heard.  Am I wrong?”

Thunderstruck, Barad replied, “How could you know that?  We have had no contact with any ship since before we lost it!”

“That too, I fear, is ship’s business,” said Mord levelly.

“I see that we can probably not help you with your business,” said Barad ingratiatingly, “but there is one more matter.  Your Luck.  She will have to marry off your ship soon.  The Grandalor could offer you a very good match.  In exchange, we could offer a bride with almost any skill that you could want.”

The cabin door opened and Cat, with eyes downcast from the visiting Captain, carried in a tray set with precious minced crab and lobster rolls, steamed fish cakes and a carafe of pure, distilled water.  

“Mord, who is your lovely cabin lady?  She is clearly near to marriageable age.  She could do far worse than to be placed on the Grandalor.  I have need of capable servants.”

Stiffly, Mord replied, “Cat is my sister by adoption.  We call her the Sea’s Gift. Captain Barad Maks, meet Cat.  Cat, this is Captain Barad Maks  … ”

In a voice that, though clear, reminded one of the seawater rushing around the bows of a ship, Cat interrupted, “Of the Grandalor, I know.  Trade agreements and other ship’s business he keeps secret from his crew, for his own enrichment.  Advice he neither seeks nor takes.  He has condoned second-rate repairs to the hull after grounding on a reef recently.   He has allowed the Grandalor’s bottom to get more foul than it should be.  I do not trust him,” She turned to face Barad eyes fully open.

Barad recoiled.  “By the Dragons!  She is blind!  Why do you keep such a useless one?  Pity?”  He sat again.  “Captain Mord Halyn, she must be punished!  She spoke ill of my Captaincy!  No crew person may leave off their Captain’s title, by which she has insulted you, too.”

“Captain Barad Maks, I have no authority to discipline her for speaking truth, and as to my title, Cat is my sister.  She does as she wills, and if we are wise, we allow it.”

“There is another thing!  I know her true name!  You have named her for a Dragon.  If you do not rename her you face grave peril.”

“WE did not name her.  Custom and Law left us no choice.  Why do you think that she has never been enrolled as a part of the crew?”

“This blind thing is the famous Luck of the Longin?  A helpless, sightless thing that needs to be nurse-maided every minute of its life?  I have clearly come to the wrong ship.”  He grabbed a handful of the crab and lobster rolls as he stormed out of the cabin.

By the time that he got to the deck, Cat was there ahead of him, having gone out the Captain’s window and up the side of the Longin.  She flipped to the deck, jumped, snagged one of the mast stays and swarmed up it, hand over hand, letting her feet dangle, until she sat herself serenely on the yardarm, sixty feet above the deck.

Captain Barad watched in utter amazement.  “How could she do something like that?  Your Luck can’t see.”

“You fail to understand Cat at all,” Mord said tightly, angry.  “She is blind, yes, but she is more able than most of us.  We have given up trying to understand how.”  Once again he proffered a hand to Captain Barad.  “Go now, and I will speak to my crew of your proposal.”

Barad went down the boarding ladder, pointedly not taking the proffered hand. “You must teach your Luck proper manners and discipline.  I am affronted.”

As Barad took his place in his gig, a slight hiss from the mast-stay and the quiet thump of feet on the rail, announced the arrival of Cat.  “Captain, brother of mine, what are we going to do?  Captain Barad has offended me,” she spoke in her voice like rushing water as she hopped lightly to the deck.

“He has also insulted me, little sister,” answered the Captain, barely containing his rage, now that Barad was off his ship.

Just then Kurin came cautiously up, unsure of her welcome in a grown-up conversation,  and hugged Cat.  The child said, “I was in Alor’s cabin, next to yours.  She is showing me stitch work.  We heard it all.  Why can he be mean to us and us not get even?”

“I think that we should do nothing, just now.  It would be neither polite nor wise to affront him further,” said the Captain.

Cat dropped cross-legged to the deck and gathered the child into her lap.

Captain Mord looked about his ship with a practiced eye, to be sure that nothing would need his attention while he talked with the child that Cat cared about. “Grandalor is a good deal larger ship than the Longin, in crew and length and tonnage.  Captain Barad has much in common with a dictator.  Too much of an insult to him could lead to a battle between us.  I think that the Longin would win, in the end, but we would be sure to lose good crew-folk.”

She listened intently, staring in concentration.  She shivered at the mention of death.  Cat held her more closely, and asked, “You would not go to battle over some foolish indignity.  Why would he?  Wouldn’t he lose crew-folk, too?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t care about that.  He keeps secrets from his crew, because he does not respect them.  If we were to win, then he would count his losses and hold them as a grudge against us and use them as an excuse to fight us again.  Such feuds have been known to destroy whole ships and everyone on them.”

“If that’s true, why would anyone start such a thing?”

“Your question goes to the heart of the matter.  Those who think first do not usually do such things.  Some people have overgrown pride that makes them believe that they cannot lose.

“There are other ways to harm a ship besides battle.  You know how we divide fishing waters and other resources at the Gathering of Ships?  They could try to claim our fisheries, the source of our prosperity, for their own through the abuse of our laws.  It has been done before.”

Cat looked thoughtful.  “I believe that is the tack that they will try. Already, without awaiting our answer to their proposition, they are getting ready to make sail.  Grandalor will have to head almost due South, running a reach that they think they can maintain for days of swift sailing.  

“Even if their weather fails them, and it will not hold, they might reach the Gathering of Ships before us.”  Cat grinned at a sudden thought. “If Barad is dishonest, he might try to claim what he thinks are rich waters out from under us.  They would have to release some fishing waters to add a claim here in the Dragon Sea.”

Kurin, who had listened carefully, as she did most things, asked, “But isn’t the Dragon Sea forbidden to fishing claims?”

The Captain looked at her thoughtfully.  This little one was full of surprises.  “That is right.  It is forbidden by Custom and not Law.  Breaches of Custom can be granted by the Gathering Council.”

Cat, still grinning predatorily, said, “Let them make the claim.  Even encourage them by proper opposition.  There’s not much here for Sea People, anyway.  We can take the waters that they abandon, and be the richer for it.”

It was Captain Mord’s turn to think things through.  “You have always known what goes on, upon the Sea.  You knew that the Grandalor was following us.  Is that why we sailed so far from our home waters?”

As guileless as a sea bird near a bait bucket, she replied, “I knew that they were following us and told you.  Their following us was luck.  It is not the reason for this trip.  I asked you to bring us here for a reason quite different.   Before we are done, we will have a good profit.  I still need to spend another day in these waters.  Please set the course NNE.  The weather will favor us.”

Standing up straight, Kurin looked over the rail, toward the other ship.  “I don’t see any signs of their leaving. Are you sure?”

“They have cleared the running rigging of their mains’ls and jibs and are drifting apart from us. Already they are 120 yards further away than when we started this conversation.  They will go when Carsis sets, about four drums after dark.”

“Will you help to trim the sails?” asked the Captain, more cheerfully.  “I mean to set your course immediately.  In that, they will have their answer to both their offer of help and their odious proposition for you.”  He seethed, “My sister a servant on the Grandalor … .”

Cat came fluidly to her feet and skipped lightly to the mains’l lines. Seeing her going with purpose to the rigging, some of the crew followed her and stood ready at the lines.  The tocsin drum beat its call.  Moments later, the First Officer’s voice began to call the commands and lines were loosed, allowing the big lateen sail to swing, with dangerously apparent gentleness, downwind.  The Longin came about to her new heading, coasting on forward momentum.  Lines were payed out and drawn up until the sails were set at the best angle to the wind for the new tack.  No longer partly furled, the many long battens or ribs in her sails made them resemble spread wings as the Longin fairly flew down her new heading.

After her usual check for the security of the lines and the proper stowage of the coils, Cat walked lightly forward, right out onto the bowsprit, where she sat as the water purled under the bow.  Quietly, at first, she began to sing, her voice and the plunging rush of the water blending into a song with words that none of the crew had ever heard before.  She stayed there until after dark, singing, interrupted only by the voice of the tocsin drum calling watch change and marking the passage of time, the heartbeat of the Longin.

The Grandalor had, as predicted, gone away south.  They had not awaited darkness, when the Longin had resumed her business, they had set sail and were past the horizon before dark.

Shortly after Carsis had set, some of the crew heard Cat singing what sounded like a duet. The other voice sounded like the plaintive call of the Orca whale, with words like her own in the whale song.  The duet went on for nearly an hour.

She walked down the nearly deserted deck, smiling with delight.  Only Captain Mord, who stood at the tiller, and the necessary lookouts had intruded on her.  It was as near to privacy as one could get, on deck.  She covered the distance to the tiller, more dancing than walking.  

“Thank you for the space, my Captain.  The lack of distraction was a help.  Now, you will be repaid for this whole profitless voyage.  Set the course SSW until morning.”

“We will do so.  May I ask a question?”

“Of course you may.  Of all this crew that I love, my brother, it is you that I trust the most.”

“Were you singing in two voices?”

“No, I was not.  It was for that song that we have come so far.

“Tomorrow, we will need the fine fishing net, and those ring supported nets that I have been making.  Each one will need about 50 feet of line attached to it, so that it can be brought up with the ring flat.  I know that these Northern waters are cold, so I will do the necessary diving.  The water will only be about 30 feet deep.”

“Cat,” said Mord uncomfortably, changing the subject, “neither of us likes or trusts Captain Barad, but he was right about one thing.  It is near time for you to find a mate and marry.  Your time is near.  This is your 19th Gathering, since we found you.”

“I know that Mord, my Captain,” she said with a heavy sigh.  “I do not wish to leave the Longin, but I know that I must.  You would not thrust me into an unwanted marriage, so I have been looking into the matter for some time, and my choice is already made.  It was not easy, but it is done.  I will make him known at the Gathering of Ships.”

“You do have another year.  I, the whole crew too, would miss you.”

“I know that but it will be a thousand Gatherings before another Dragon Moons.  I will miss you all.  Let my parting be a special one.  I do not want to be forgotten.”

Shortly after dawn the lookout’s cry of “Shoal Water Ahead!” and the tocsin drum’s wild beat of ‘All Hands on Deck!’ brought everyone scrambling to the deck to man the sails and turn the ship back to safety.  The shoal showed as a large area of unpredictable swirling currents and choppy waves.

Cat calmed the fears of the crew. “This water is deep enough for us to sail safely, in any case. There is another reason why we are here.  Who wants to see the Longin make a larger profit?”  

“I do!” the whole crew said in a ragged chorus.

“Down on that reef are big cold water lobsters and crabs.  Shrimp will abound.  There are many shells, both precious, like the mother of pearl and haliotis, and utilitarian like clam and drill shells.  The shrimp will come up from deep water this evening.  Most of them will come up a large crevice in the reef and there we will catch them with the fine net.  The ring nets that I have made will, with the help of galley scraps for bait, catch those lobsters and crabs.”

Someone called out, “What are we waiting for?  Let’s break out the boats!”  This was work that everyone on the Longin understood.  An orderly bustle of men and women unlashed and launched the fishing boats.

“We’re less than a week and a half from the Gathering!  I bet that we can get some of those crabs and suchlike to the Gathering alive if we try!  We could carry them in the weavers’ mussel vat!” somebody exclaimed.  

“They’ll be worth twice as much if we pull it off!” responded another.  

No more was needed.  Men and women undogged the hatch over the proper hold and began to rig a crane to lower catch.  Others clattered down the companionways to the vat itself to ready it.    Children were set to winding mussel string into neat skeins for tying the claws of lobsters and crabs, so that they could not hurt each other.

There were small fishing boats bobbing in the chop over the reef, from one end of it to the other. Nets were splashing into the water as quickly as they could be pulled up and emptied of crabs and lobsters.  As each net was done, the boats rowed quickly to the next float marking the line of another net.  Kurin leaned glumly on the rail.  She was small.  There was nothing for her to do.  She felt a light hand on her shoulder, and heard a voice like water streaming happily under the bows.

“Would you like to come with me, Kurin?  I need somebody reliable to keep my boat steady while I get in and out, and to help dry me with towels when I am done with diving.  I am taking a boat fresh from the shop.  Master Juris told me that you worked on it, and did a good job, too.”

“Oh, Cat!  I would love to. Can I really help you?”

“Yes, you can,” replied Cat, hitching the boat into the davits for lowering.  A few minutes later they scrambled down the heavy net that served as a ladder, and cast off.  

In Cat’s hands the oars drove the little boat like a living thing.  Kurin sat in the stern and manned the tiller.  Soon, they were over the heart of the reef.

Cat stripped off her sailor’s shirt and pants, took a net bag, and dove cleanly over the stern.  Kurin took the oars and used small strokes to kept the boat in position, as best she could, using her eye on the Longin for a reference.  She quickly found that it was harder than it seemed.  There was a natural tendency to take too long a strokes with the oars and move it, rather than just keep it still and in its place.  A minute passed, and then two.  By the time that five minutes were gone, Kurin was beginning to worry.  Just then, a hand reached up over the wide shallow ‘v’ of the net guide built into the stern and Cat slid into the boat.  Her net bag was full of large shells.

While Cat was panting for breath, Kurin emptied the bag and readied it for Cat’s next dive.  After a few minutes of recovery, Cat took several deep breaths, let them out, and dove over the stern again.  This time, Kurin kept the boat on station without worrying.  

She passed time by sorting the shells by kind as well as she could.  She planned to ask Cat which shells were which and what their values were.  Cat continued to bring up shells for more than an hour.  Between dives she instructed Kurin about the values and properties of the different kinds.  After her last dive, Kurin had to help her into the boat.  

Cat had trouble holding onto the transom and nearly dropped her bag of shells back into the depths.  Her lips and the nails of her hands were blue, she was shivering, and she was clumsy.  It took all of Kurin’s small strength, feet braced against the transom, to get Cat over the net guide and into the safety of the boat.  The usually sure Cat was weak and could not grip tightly or even reach accurately.  Cold water had taken its insidious toll of weakness, slowing reactions and dulling not only senses but her mind as well.

Kurin toweled off Cat and helped her into her clothes to warm her up.  She was chill to the touch.  Kurin rowed them, clumsily at first but with rapidly growing skill, back to the Longin.  It was Kurin who went up the side of the ship.  Kurin who tossed down a safety line to the exhausted Cat.  It was Kurin who took in the line, making sure that it was properly snubbed around a marlin spike, to help  Cat up the side of the Longin.  While Cat staggered to her bunk to warm up, Kurin secured the shells and got them safely to the deck, using the boat davit as a crane to lift them.  Captain Mord personally took them to the galley for cleaning, sorting, and the making of a shellfish stew.   Kurin sought out the shivering Cat, brought her own blankets to cover her and cuddled next to the cold woman, to help warm her.  After a bit, when the worst of Cat’s shivering had stopped, Kurin went to the galley and got her some warm broth.  Soon Cat was sitting up, wrapped in blankets and ravenously eating warm food.

As she ate, Kurin told her all that she had done.  “Little One, who taught you to do all those things?”

“All my life, I’ve watched you.  You always think first, before you do anything, so I thought of what I needed and how to do it.  That made it easier.”

“As soon as I am warm enough, we are going out again.   The cold of the water tricked me and clouded my judgment.  This time, you tell me when to stop, OK?”

They made three more trips to the reef for shells before evening.  Each time that Kurin noticed any sign of difficulty, Cat stopped diving and they returned to the ship to warm up and deliver their catch.

As dark was falling, the fine net brought up a large catch of shrimp to add to the seawater vat already swarming with crabs and lobsters, claws neatly and securely tied.  As soon as the precious live cargo was properly secured, the Longin made all sail south to the Gathering of Ships.

Speed was their great necessity. The Longin’s huge lateen mainsail and her large lateen foresail were fully spread, and all of her auxiliary sails were set as well. Sea raced under her, and was left behind as a wake of foam and small whirlpools.  The northern clouds were left behind and temperate seas as well.

“Cat, I have brought you some warm soup,” said Kurin.  “You‘ve spent so much time at the tiller, since we left the north, I wonder that you can stand so many long watches.”

“Thank you, Kurin,” she said, putting the tiller under her right arm and wrapping her hands around the mug to warm them.  “I must stand these watches, because we need all speed to get to the Gathering of Ships.  I know best where there are currents to aid us and ones to avoid, so I steer.”  

“But I don’t understand.  You can’t see the sun, the stars or the moons.  How do you know where to go?”

“The oceans and seas tell me, Little Fish.”

“How?”

“There are waves that the wind makes on the surface, and under them are long, deep waves.  Those long, deep waves tell me where I am.  Here in Naral Sea, the bottom slopes up to the south, so as we go that way, the long, deep waves get shorter and higher.  Also, they are affected by the currents. The Naral Current sweeps north along here, and pushes the waves over it to the side.  The cross beat of the waves from the current and the still water waves tells me that the Naral is about a league that way.”  Cat paused and pointed off to port.  “We want to stay out of it.  In a few hours we will pick up the Clifftos current, as it bends south, and it will carry us swiftly almost all of the way to the Gathering of the Ships.”

Kurin paused in thought and said, “So, if I learn how to feel what the waves say, then I will always know where I am and what direction I’m going, even in fog?”

“Yes, Kurin.  I am sorry that I do not have the time to teach you the oceans.”  Cat paused to drink the soup. “That was good, Kurin.  Did you make it?”

Kurin’s face lit up, “Yes, I did.  How did you know?”

“Master Murel is a good cook, and the Longin is lucky to have him, but he never puts enough sea lettuce in his soups.  Are you working in the galley, now?”

“No.  Since I started in the boat shop, Master Juris told the other Craft Masters that I was careful, and always paid attention.  They have made me welcome in all the other shops, including the galley.

“Oh, Cat, I wish that you could see the moons rise!  They are beautiful.  Carsis is almost up.  It is light red tonight. Little Dorac is clear and white, just sitting on the horizon.   Big Wohan, light yellow,  is half way up from the horizon.  The waves make their light into rippling bars that point right to us.”

“Thank you for describing the moons rise for me, Kurin.  Nobody has done that for me since I was a child in Alor’s arms.

“Tomorrow, in the mid-morning, we should come to the Gathering of Ships.  Please take this mug back to the galley for me and come back.  I have something I want you to know.”

Kurin scampered off, mug in hand, and returned.

“Here’s the key to my sea chest.  Go to my quarters and open it.  There’s a big tray in it. Bring it and all the things with it.”

Shortly Kurin returned, struggling slightly with the size of the tray.  It had a long, narrow cushion fastened across it.  There were bins that held skeins of mussel threads in carefully matched colors, many pins made of strong, dried fish bones, carefully polished smooth and small bobbins, like net needles, filled with fine strands.  There were many patterns made with lines of tiny pinpricks in pliable, dried fish skins.

“This, Kurin, is how you make Longin Lace.  You begin by choosing your colors.  I always need help with that  … ”

To be Continued

<==Previous ~ Next==>

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Return to World of Sea

[10oclockdot]

10oclockdot 2020 year in review

As I seem to drift farther and farther from tumblr (though the #Peace posts and my side project on On Kawara keep a thin tether attached), 2020 actually saw me stepping more solidly into my stated vocation as an academic, even if I also lost my job as a university professor this year. Trying to look on the bright sides.

Here we go:

10. I got my first properly peer-reviewed article accepted for publication in 2020. After 2 years of submitting to journals and a protracted review process, “Why is Reverse Motion Funny?: Happy End and the Comic Potential of the Cinematographic Mechanism” was accepted by Journal of Film and Video for publication... TBA. Based on some gossip I read online later, I might be waiting upwards of two years for the article to ever come out. But hopefully not. Either way, it was accepted, and that’s at least something for the CV.

9. Will DiGravio’s excellent The Video Essay Podcast (here) was a great companion this summer while I was working on a big project (see #1), and just for fun I decided to complete some “homework” he assigned on the podcast. My submission is here. Everyone else’s submissions are here.

8. Early in the year, I updated a compilation of all the times John Ford used the hymn “Shall We Gather at the River” in one of his films. An eagle-eyed YouTuber found one more. Here’s the new version.

7. When some prominent Math YouTubers put out a call for videos on favorite numbers greater than a million -- aka #MegaFavNumbers -- I couldn’t see a reason not to join in, and made this video, based on one of my old tumblr posts. In it I also mention that as of late 2019 I’m also published on the Online Encyclopedia of Integer Sequences. Not sure if I ever mentioned that here. Anyway, contributing a #MegaFavNumber seems like a fitting project for a year in which I also became a math tutor. (Here’s the full playlist.)

6. I didn’t make much art this year of note, but this bit of constrained poetry executed as a 10-part conceptual painting is easily one of the best and most important artworks I’ve ever made (if any could be assigned importance).

5. I finally watched Twin Peaks: The Return. Here’s a post I made about that, which somehow became the most popular new thing on the blog this year. Aphelis also liked this gif I made for him. Nobody seemed to understand this post (or maybe I just think it’s better than it is), but that’s okay, I guess.

4. I started a new video essay series called “Video Postcards.” There are only two so far (”About Time,” and “Drone Swarms”), but the idea is to keep making them on a regular basis (monthly, maybe?). The concept is that each video is addressed to a friend of mine, and I weigh in on some topic that we’re both interested in and have talked about before. I actually SEND the addressee the postcard you see me writing in the video, with the link written out on it. After they view this private video correspondence, they get to decide whether the rest of the world will get to see it too. So far 2 for 2.

3. It was hard to write much that was meaningful this year politically (at least, it was hard for me). But I still wrote a short story that I’m proud of called Somewhere in the middle of an angry mob in Jerusalem, ca. 2000 years ago (here). I wish every Evangelical Christian in the country (my heritage) would read it. Oh, I also drew this cartoon about who establishment democrats really are. Oh, and this diagram over on Facebook about the inscrutable slowness of the apocalypse.

2. My first professional publication came in the form of a long data-driven article for Bright Lights Film Journal that dropped back in January: “Tracking Mass Ideology on IMDb’s Top 250: How Shifts in Societal Values Appear in the Popular Film Canon” (here). The Bright Lights people were so easy to work with that I’m looking forward to writing another article for them in the new year, if they’ll take it. This article even drew the attention of the great film reviewer Darren Mooney (of the m0vie blog), who invited me to record an episode of his podcast The 250 (here) on Sherlock, Jr. (Buster Keaton, 1924). We taped it a couple months ago, but it should land in the new year. I’ll share it here when it does. 

1. And, of course, after three years of work and a rejection from [in]Transition, my first feature-length project, a video essay called A Supercut of Supercuts: Aesthetics, Histories, Databases, was accepted for publication at Open Screens Journal. It should be live in January. I’ve also sent it out to some film festivals with what little money I could scrape together for that purpose. Hopefully at least one of them wants to play it, so I can add some laurels to that poster!

See you next year!

[creativeskullcreations]

Chapter 10: A Real Guilty Feeling

Hey everybody, here's chapter 10! But, unfortunately, it'll be the last chapter you see for a while. I need to take a break from writing for a while, do something else and recharge a bit. Maybe also knock out some drawings too while I'm at it.

Current timeline is looking like this: Couple of weeks without writing, and then maybe build up a bit of a buffer of chapters for <i>Outside</i>. But first, I'll be working on episode 2 of <i>Happy Times at Handeemen HQ</i>. Y'all are starting to show an interest in that, and I wanna put something new out for it.

If you want to keep updated, or even just see what I'm drawing, you can follow my art Tumblr here. Also check out my YouTube, in case of livestreams or speedpaints!(Am I plugging my own stuff too much?)

Whenever I'm ready to start posting again, I'll make sure to leave an announcement on here.

I'll see y'all later.

When Will got home, he dumped Stacy's stuff and scout on the couch. He then pointed out his locked workroom, and told her that she was never to go in there no matter what. That done, he left her to her own devices, and went off to bed. He took off his shirt and jeans, then crawled under the sheets. The last thing he did before passing out was shoot off a message to the group chat about how DnD Night was canceled until further notice.

When he woke up, far too few hours later, it was to a light weight on his chest. He stared at Scout for a moment, then picked her up and dropped her on the floor, rolling onto his front. He grabbed his phone, squinting at the too bright screen. Several messages were in the chat, and he sighed as he opened it up and scrolled to the top.

Masonary: um, excuse me?! i asked for that day off u can't cancel!!! somebody better be dead! D:<

Blooming_Stitches: Mason, shut up. We don't know what could be going on.

drWEED420: ugh, stacy. I told you to call me.

Masonary: y would stacy need to call u sam?

Masonary: is it because she hacked ur account and changed ur name again?

 drWEED420 has changed their name to DrSamIAm

DrSamIAm: no but it is something we'll going to talk abaout.

Will_and_a_Way: Stace is in the hospital for infected surgery stitches

Blooming_Stitches: I'M SORRY WHAT

Masonry: dude i was joking about som1 being dead

DrSamIAm: goddamit stacy

 DrSamIAm has left the chat We're ALL Idiots Here

Masonry: ok first of all what happened to stacy

Masonry: second who changed the chat name again?

Blooming_Stitches: lol

Will sighed, the went into his phone and pulled up his drop box, where he'd sneaked the file into a while ago. He hesitated briefly, then sent it to the chat. Stacy could be mad at him later, but he was too tired to think up a cover story for her right now.

 Will_and_a_Way posted a file in We're ALL Idiots Here

Masonry: ?

Blooming_Stitches: !

Will_and_a_Way: read that if you guys want to know what happned.

Will_and_a_Way: I'm going back to sleep now try not to kill each other

He clicked his phone off, dropping it to his mattress and letting his head fall on his pillow. Within seconds he was back asleep, completely oblivious to Scout Jumping back on his bed and climbing onto his back. She curled around the small Kirby toy, using it as a pillow as she settled back into sleep herself.

()()()

When Will woke up again, it was to a light weight in the center of his back, right below his shoulder blades. He huffed, glaring at the wall. He took a deep breath, then heaved himself up with all his strength. As predicted, Scout was catapulted off, and he quickly got out of bed, heading to the kitchen.

He made himself some toast, checking his phone on the way. The group chat was mostly just full of the various reactions from Lisa and Mason. Sammy had come back at some point, going on a rant about what Stacy hadn't told him.

He read over the various comments as he  ate, able to tell where they were in the document. Unsurprisingly, Mason finished it first, and Lisa was intent on meeting Scout. Sammy had told her Scout was nothing special, which Will privately agreed with. He finished the back reading and, seeing as nobody was online at the moment, locked his phone again. He picked up his toast and moved into his work room for the time being, deciding to get something done.

It was easy, really, for Will to get lost in his work. Dissecting the "toys" he brought home, taking them apart and recording it in his notes. He was currently working on the body of the head he'd been looking at last night. The brown, fuzzy thing was strapped securely onto the table, the front having been sawed apart and spread open.

He shifted through the innards, making careful, detailed notes about what was in there. He would compare them to the stolen blueprints later, figure out what was supposed to be in there and what wasn't. For now, though, the intention was to make a catalogue of parts.

When his phone alarm finally went off, signalling it was lunch time, he straightened up with a sigh. He pulled off his rubber gloves and, making sure the straps on the table were tight, went out to the kitchen. He made himself a simple sandwich, eating it in the kitchen as he glanced through the group chat. Mason and Lisa were on and currently discussing things, but Sam hadn't been on again since his rant.

He lurked a bit longer after he finished his sandwich, then got up to go back to work. On the way through the living room, he paused when he saw Scout sitting on the couch. She was curled up in the corner, Kirby plush on her lap as she stared at it. Even as a Puppet, he recognized the look on her face as one Stacy had often worn in the first year after her mother had died.

'Why the hell do I feel so bad for that thing?' He sighed, rubbing at his face. Making a snap decision, he went over to his DVD shelf and pulled out The Iron Giant.  He turned on the TV and player, then loaded in the movie, skipping the previews. When he reached the main menu, he selected play and dropped the remote near Scout. He then left, heading back towards the basement and his work.

Scout watched go, staring silently after him as he once again disappeared behind the locked door. She didn't even try to follow him, instead settling in to watch the show he'd turned on. With any luck, it would be violent and/or funny enough to take her mind off of things.

()()()

'That is the saddest shit I have ever seen...' She sniffed, rubbing at her frustratingly dry eyes. 'I can't believe he let himself get blown up like that. What the fuck.' She rubbed at her eyes some more, then tried to figure out how to choose a different show. When she couldn't figure it out, she threw the remote down in frustration. 'Fuck it! Where's Will?'

She Jumped from the couch, heading over to the locked door. She peered in the crack between the door and the floor, but couldn't see anything. She could hear, however, and what she heard were power tools. The sound sent a shock through her system, dredging up unwanted memories of Riley's lab. She drew back, then jumped onto a nearby table when the noise stopped. Thinking quickly, she opened the drawer that was there and tried to pretend that she had been going through it.

Will came out of the room a minute later, wiping his hands with a dirty towel. He glared when he saw what she was "doing". "What the hell are you doing? Get out of there!" It wasn't quite yelling, but his voice was definitely louder than it needed to be. Scout suppressed her fear and scoffed.

"Fine. There wasn't anything but batteries in there anyways." She slammed the drawer closed, feeling a small, petty joy in how the contents rattled around when she did. She watched him cross to his bedroom and, when he'd closed his door, opened the drawer back up in order to snoop for real.

Batteries, keys, some weird plastic clips, and other odds and ends she didn't have words for had been organized neatly in the drawer. Working quickly, she shuffled everything around even more, then shoved a handful of what was sitting on the table into the drawer. She then closed it again and sat back as innocently as she could, tilting the shade of the lamp next to her. When Will came back out, now dressed in different clothes, he sighed and fixed the shade.

She watched as he gathered up a couple of things, then came over and grabbed up a set of keys she hadn't dumped into the drawer. There was a pause, or maybe more of a hesitation, and then he scooped her up and left the house, ignoring her protests.

"Hey! Hey lemme go! H-mmph?!" He easily covered her mouth with one hand as he locked the door. He made his way to his car, not letting her go into he'd climbed in and dumped her in the passenger seat. "What was that for?!"

"Okay, here's the deal." He told her, ignoring the question. "We're going to go see Stacy. To do that, we have to go through a whole hospital full of people. And you will be quiet and good the whole time, or you will be going out the nearest window."

"We're going to go see Stacy..." That was the one thing she had really comprehended. Her Host was alive, Scout knew she had to be. If she wasn't, then the Puppet wouldn't have long to-

It didn't matter. She didn't matter, not after what almost happened. Not after what she almost did, accidentally or not.

She was jolted out of her thoughts as Will started the car, realizing belatedly that he'd continued talking to her. She hoped he hadn't noticed she wasn't paying attention. Whatever he'd been doing behind that door, she did not want to become his next patient.

In the silence of the car ride, Scout easily lost herself in the thoughts swirling through her head. The most prominent were thoughts of guilt, knowing she was to blame for this and wondering where she had gone wrong. Maybe she hadn't tried as hard as she should've to subjugate her Host back in the Studio? Or maybe she shouldn't have stayed with her after they escaped. Maybe she should have left after making sure Stacy was okay.

'Maybe I should leave anyways.'

She missed it when Will parked, only noticing when he picked her up. She let herself stay limp, though not so much out of compliance than a desire to try and keep working on the plan that had come to mind.

Vaguely, she was aware of the clean white halls Will was taking her through, as well as a nauseating smell that reminded her of Riley. A few other unclaimed Hosts like Will, though wearing clothing that, again, reminded Scout of Riley. She watched  those ones carefully, just in case. She may not like Will, but Stacy did and she didn't want something to happen to him.

Will came up to a door, opening it and peeking inside. Scout tried to look, but could only see the very end of a weird looking bed. Whatever he saw he seemed to like, as he fully entered the room, kicking the door closed behind him and approaching the bed.

"Hey Stacy." He began quietly, and Scout felt her stuffing go cold at the sight of her Host in the bed. Her normally warm brown skin was several shades paler, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She was mostly upright, though leaning heavily against the pillows behind her. The scariest thing, though, were the several tubes connecting her to various machines by the bed.

Scout felt another cold rush of guilt when she saw how Stacy's eyes lit up when she spotted them. She waited for her to say something, anything, but the Host didn't speak, instead lifting her hands to use that weird hand language.

"She can't talk right now." Will translated. "She had to be intubated and her throat still hurts. But, for some reason, she's happy to see you." He sounded annoyed by that, and Scout couldn't help but be confused. Surely Stacy knew about what she did.

'Unless she doesn't.' The Puppet realized. 'She doesn't know shit about how it works. She had no idea what I almost did to her.' Somehow, that didn't make it any better.

Against her will, she was handed over to Stacy so Will could go set down the bags. Stacy hugged her tight, and Scout couldn't help but curl up in her hold, clutching at the weird shirt she was wearing.

She ignored the humans as they talked, or rather as Will talked and Stacy did one handed signing. Instead she stared at the tubing connected to Stacy's arm, watching the clear liquid slowly drip it's way into her body. She didn't know how long she stared for, but she must've dozed off at one point because she suddenly became aware of her hair being stroked.

It couldn't have been too long, as the room was still bright, though she couldn't hear Will anymore. Instead there was a quiet, steady beeping that matched up with Stacy's heartbeat. It was relaxing, and brought up memories of when Scout had first woken up, all those years ago. Before she'd been made to take part in Riley's "tests", or found that TV. Even before she'd met her siblings and learned who and what she really was. Those first few moments when it had just been her and Daisy, enjoying the gift of life.

She almost wished she could go back to that point. Things were so much better back then, when her world consisted of Daisy's sewing room and her siblings. When she didn't have a Host to worry about accidentally killing, or her own people coming after her.

But she wouldn't have to worry about that for long. If her plan ended up working, Stacy wouldn't be in danger ever again.

[love-dreams]

for the last time

jeonghan/reader | mental illness!au | angst, fluff

synopsis: in which jeonghan wants to do everything for one last time

content: depression, suicidal thoughts, character suicide

notes: WTF TUMBLR APP DELETED EVERYTHING anyway...more a/n in the m.list!!

wc: 1.3k

“please, y/n, don’t leave me, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry-!”

it was almost like a ritual at this point, waking up to nightmares, drenched in sweat, with his heartbeat pounding in his chest while lying in bed. holding his head with trembling fingertips, jeonghan tried to recall the events of his dream, trying to pinpoint the cause of his nightmare. he sighed before giving up, running his fingers through his sweaty, damp hair.

looking over at his bedside table, jeonghan saw his phone lit up with multiple messages from his best friends. 

jeonghan grabbed his phone and got out of bed, checking messages from seungcheol and joshua while brushing his teeth. recently, the pair had been checking up on jeonghan to make sure he was getting out of bed everyday. 

jeonghan knew he didn’t have much time left in the world, but even with that impending doom in the back of his mind, he didn’t want to see his other friends suffer like he had. mustering up his strength, he put on a smile and before leaving the bathroom, flashing one last smile at the mirror. 

>>[p.sc] jeonghan, don’t forget to take your meds

jeonghan checked his phone again as it buzzed on the table, smiling to himself at how caring seungcheol was. these days jeonghan couldn’t find the motivation to even make breakfast, instead, he just filled up a glass of water, sitting down at the table to reply to his friends. 

<<[me] already did, mwah

<<[me] @joshua, i’m dropping by your campus later today, you forgot your notebook

>>[h.js] thanks bro!! remember to eat breakfast

after sending the message, jeonghan let out a sigh and leaned back into his chair. his life really was miserable after you had left him. jeonghan had no motivation to do anything, he couldn’t sleep or even eat. the only thing that kept him going was staying with seungcheol and joshua. tapping his fingers against the polished wood table, jeonghan tried to recall the event of his dream again. 

then, taking a sharp breath, jeonghan stood up determinedly; he wanted to go back to your shared apartment for the last time. 

he remembered the painted walls and pictures on the table during the dream and all jeonghan knew was that he needed to be there again.

but he needed to see seungcheol and joshua first before he left.

“how was your day so far, jisoo?”

“it’s been good so far. thanks so much for bringing this with you, jeonghan!”

jeonghan laughed, “aren’t you taking advantage of me living with you a little?”

seungcheol seemed to notice something wasn’t right about jeonghan’s manner, and piped up, “jeonghan, did you get my text this morning?”

jeonghan nodded, smiling as he showed him the pill bottle. “yep! i even brought it with me so i wouldn’t forget to take some this afternoon.”

seungcheol relaxed, “it’s been awhile since we’ve gone out together.”

for a moment, jeonghan’s smile fell off his face before he quickly forced it back upright. jeonghan nodded, reading between the lines of what seungcheol was saying: “it’s been awhile since we’ve gone out together, because you used to always be with y/n.”

after that lunch, jeonghan left to take a walk by the han river, marveling at the beautiful weather today. as he followed the trail, he slowly made his way to your apartment complex, the old building had the same charm it always had. 

as jeonghan climbed up the concrete stairs, he suddenly had a rush of deja vu, causing him to slightly stumble. 

“i don’t even get why you went to that stupid party, you know how shit you are at drinking.”

jeonghan dragged your body up the stairs as you struggled to maintain balance.

panting, you huffed out, “shut up jeonghan, i just wanted to have some fun.”

jeonghan grunted as he looked down at you from above, “are you saying i’m not fun? ‘cause i can totally be fun.”

you laughed as you made it to the last stair, collapsing onto the dirty cement. 

jeonghan panted beside you, still standing up, “get up, y/n, we’re almost at the apartment.” he tapped you on the side with his foot, his height towering over you. 

you smiled drunkenly, “you’re so pretty, jeonghan.”

jeonghan sighed, propping you up. he squished your cheeks together, “you know that i like to be called handsome more. now, up you go!” 

jeonghan chuckled at the memory. before he knew it, he was at the top of the stairs, on the floor of your apartment. 

it had been what seemed like a lifetime since he climbed these exact stairs. 

when you died, he didn’t have the heart to sell your apartment. it held all the memories jeonghan cherished so much, it felt like losing a piece of you. 

standing in front of the door to your shared apartment, jeonghan got hit with a wave of nostalgia. unable to push back at the rush of emotions, jeonghan leaned against the wall, his chest suddenly unbearably tight. 

he should have been there for you.

straightening up, jeonghan put on his brave facade and unlocked the door. after you died, jeonghan hadn’t returned to the apartment you shared, the pain was too great. looking around the room, jeonghan could almost smell your perfume and shampoo that you always wore. nothing had changed since your death, your parents hadn’t come to collect your things. dropping his bag, jeonghan started to wander around the small room until he came to a stop in front of your room. 

he couldn’t hold it in, breaking down in front of your room, sobs wracking through his slim frame. jeonghan covered his face, as if you could see him, tears running down his arms. guilt was rushing through him and his chest became unbearably tight. out of the corner of his eye, he saw his bag, the pill bottle in the compartment outside of the backpack. 

“jeonghan, i’m so proud of you, baby!”

jeonghan smiled at you cheering for him, he tickled you, “i can’t wait to go to your art gallery as well.” 

you laughed, bubbly happiness surging through the both of you. jeonghan had just performed his first concert in front of your university classmates. there weren’t a lot of people there, a couple of hundred, but it was stunning to see him on stage.

you cupped his face gently, “make sure you don’t miss it, okay?”

jeonghan choked at the memory, his chest tightening even more. it felt as if his heart was being squeezed, suffocating him. taking raspy breaths, jeonghan  could finally breathe again. crawling over to his bag, jeonghan collapsed against the front door. picking up the pill bottle with his trembling fingers; jeonghan stared at it. 

“i just wanted...you to be there for me, this one time!”

you were crying now, a tear streaming down your face. 

jeonghan sighed exasperatedly, “i know and i’m sorry okay? i had to practice for the next concert and i just forgot.” 

you glared at jeonghan, “that’s the problem, jeonghan. you always forget about us,” then you turned on your heel and spun out of the apartment, slamming the door on your way out.

jeonghan unscrewed the cap, peering though his tears at the pills inside.

“jeonghan, i’m so sorry...they were too late...”

their voices were all so muffled and distorted at that time, jeonghan couldn’t even hear them over the rushing of his blood.

jeonghan collapsed on the hospital floor, sobs wracking through his body. he would never see your smile again, never be able to hold you, never be able to-

“oh god,” jeonghan gasped out. he had never told you he loved you..

jeonghan reached a trembling hand in and inspected the single pill before swallowing it. 

“she wanted you to have this.”

jeonghan reluctantly took the letter. flipping it over, he saw his name written in your handwriting. jeonghan left your letter in his coat pocket for two days before gathering the courage to open it. 

gathering some more pills into his hand, jeonghan pulled out the folded piece of paper from his pocket; he always kept it with him no matter where he went.

“my love, jeonghan,

if you’re reading this, it must be too late for me. you must think that this was your fault, but i want you to know that it wasn’t. being with you these years have been my happiest moments, but i want you to be happy as well, jeonghan. you deserve better, i guess. i’m crying while i’m writing this because i really miss you right now. i regret yelling at you, i regret walking out. i’m sorry, jeonghan. i must be really cowardly, to not tell you these words in person, but jeonghan, please know

i love you. be happy for me,

y/n.”

jeonghan re-screwed on the cap, dumping the pills back in. he had to honor your last wish. slowly standing up, jeonghan pulled out another piece of paper: the pledis entertainment business card. 

i’m sorry, my love. i can’t be happy without you here, but i’ll try. i promise i’ll try.

pulling out his phone, jeonghan quickly sent out a text to joshua and seungcheol.

>>[me] i’m trying out with you guys. 

jeonghan loved for the last time.