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Full body King Candy(bug) commission for @appelsiinilight!
Don’t quote me on this, but I think I like King Candy and I think they also like King Candy, I’m just saying. (Coughs to the [other] [three] [commissions] I did for them)
#artists on tumblr#king candy#king candybug#wreck-it ralph#commissions#commission#applesiinilight#my draws#sfw
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Tinytopia Chapter 9: Bloodthirst (Part 1)
Story Masterpost
On AO3
Thanks to my beta/sensitivity reader @appelsiinilight and my bonus beta reader for the next two chapters, @whumpsday!
In this chapter: Thistle indulges in getting cozy, but finds the house disturbed by yet another new arrival.
With respect to @whumpsday, the og of hungry vampire sadbois, and @entomolog-t, the og of tiny vampires.
***
There were now enough pixies for a pixie pile.
Thistle was ecstatic. He’d grown up sleeping in a pixie pile, and he’d missed it, longed for it, ached for it ever since his separation from his family.
Sleeping on top of Moon was nice enough, but he wasn’t a pixie. And with Marigold here, there were two pixies. Not enough for a pile.
But Jax had a pixie incarnation now. There were three pixies, which met the minimum number needed to be a proper pile.
Moon would be included, of course, even if he wasn’t a pixie. The pile would simply go on top of him.
Thistle made sure everyone had a nice, soft pair of pajamas. Enough thick, fuzzy socks. Enough blankets and soft pads to sleep on. Hot, sweet drinks to sip in the evening before falling asleep.
Oh, yeah. This was going to be perfect.
Thistle cleared enough space in his wooden castle–for once, he was worried he might not have enough room in there for something. He arranged everything just right, plumping pillows and layering blankets and smoothing out sheets. He wove small animals out of plant fiber–such toys weren’t out of place in pixie nests, quite similar to humans’ stuffed animals. They didn’t usually make them bears or cats or dogs, though–pixies had a completely different array of animals that were culturally important.
Thistle remembered his Mother’s Mother’s hive having a nest of ants in the bottom of the structure, tended to like a herd–he couldn’t remember if they’d done anything besides occasionally eating the larvae. It’d been such a long time ago that all he remembered was that they tasted quite good. Before Thistle had left, Mother had been in the process of trying to make space in their tree for clusters of honeydew-producing aphids. She’d also told Thistle that some hives knew how to rear moths or spiders for their silk, which Thistle had always longed to see, but she’d said moths were more complicated than aphids and spiders had a safety risk.
There had been that one time his older brother Oak had brought home a disfigured moth which would have died without help–its wing had gotten caught in its cocoon while trying to emerge, and now it was wrinkly, tiny, and useless for flying. Mother let Oak keep the moth as a pet, even though it had no practical use. It was fuzzy, nice to hold, and pretty to look at. Oak had named it Cattail.
He lovingly traced the memories as he wove, imagining himself making a toy for Dewdrop. Aunt Winter’s new baby, Dewdrop. He wanted to meet Dewdrop so badly. Thistle was really the only one in the hive good enough with his hands to make toys without using magic. He would have been making all the toys for Dewdrop. Had someone else been making them? Was Dewdrop wanting for toys?
He suddenly realized he’d begun crying when a tear dripped down onto the moth doll he’d been making. He slowly wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, then sniffled and straightened himself up.
There was no need to be sad. He was going to have a pixie pile again. Dewdrop was fine, and so was he.
He arranged a moth doll and an aphid doll so they were nicely on top of the covers, then stood back to examine his work. I should sell those on Etsy, too. Everyone would go wild for them. He started writing the listing title mentally. Miniature insect bug arthropod crochet doll lifelike fidget toy Micro realistic choose SET or INDIVIDUAL made to order. He could sell one for $20 or a set of three for $50. Yeah. That would be good.
He walked out and pushed Marigold’s wheelchair to the entrance of his wooden house. “Are you ready for bed, Marigold?”
He nodded.
Pixie-Jax flitted on the roof of the house, jumping down onto the ground. “I am too!”
“Shh,” Thistle said. “Speak quietly. We’re supposed to be calming down now.”
Jax nodded, looking very serious in his oversized pajamas that swallowed his hands.
Moon arrived five minutes after the agreed upon time, as always. He had an eye mask on his forehead and an extra pillow under his arm. “I stayed up late so that I could be tired precisely for this slumber gathering,” Moon declared. “Let us commence.”
“Okay,” Thistle said, trying not to get excited. He was supposed to be calming down. “Moon, you go in first, and then we’ll all get on top of you.”
Moon ducked to go into Thistle’s house. “Good Heavens! It’s a proper cornucopia of comfort in here.”
Thistle poked his head in and watched as Moon arranged himself, pulling the covers back. Moon held his arms up. “I’m ready for dogpiling, boys. Have at me.”
“Okay, Jax next.”
Jax dashed into the wooden structure and snuggled up under Moon’s arm. “Like this?”
“Yes, perfect. Okay, now Marigold.”
Thistle lent Marigold a hand to stand up out of the wheelchair. He supported him by the elbow to help him inside. Marigold’s face twinged with pain as he went down into a kneeling position.
“You all right?”
“Yes–just a moment.”
He shifted to a position that apparently lessened his pain, then gingerly lay down under Moon’s other arm, head on the crook of his elbow.
That just left Thistle. He crouched down and situated himself on top of Moon, so Moon’s chest fluff was his pillow. “Everybody comfy?”
There was a round of assenting sounds.
Thistle reached down and pulled the blanket up, swathing them all, and turned off the light. “Good night, everybody.”
“Thistle my boy, would you pull down my eye mask? My hands are quite full.”
Thistle reached up and pulled the mask over Moon’s eyes.
“Perfect, thank you.”
“Good night.”
“Good night, Thistle.”
“Good night, Jax.”
“Good night, Thistle.”
“Good night, Marigold.”
No response.
“Marigold?”
“Good night, Thistle.”
“Good night, Marigold.”
“Good night, Jax.”
“Good night, Moon.”
“Is this really quite necessary?”
“You’re supposed to say good night.”
“...Good night, Jax.”
“Marigold?”
No response.
“Marigold, you didn’t say good night to anyone.”
“Good night Thistle, Jax, and Moon. There.”
“Good night, Marigold.”
“Good night, Marigold.”
“Moon? You didn’t say good night back to Marigold.”
“Good night, Marigold. Are you quite satisfied now? Have we somehow missed a possible permutation here?”
Thistle snuggled closer to Moon, and Jax copied his motion. “No,” Thistle said contentedly. “I think that’s everyone. Thanks. Good night. I love you all.”
“I love you, Thistle.”
“I love you, Moon-”
“We are not doing all that again. I would like to go to sleep sometime in the next twenty-four hours.”
Thistle tugged on the sleeve of Moon's silken pajamas. “Just once? Just one, Moon? Please?”
Moon sighed. “I love you, Thistle.”
Thistle happily flicked his ears and settled in. It seemed like Marigold had already fallen asleep.
They dozed like that. Thistle could hardly get sleepy with how happy he was. It was so warm and fuzzy, and a soft glow of magic welled up inside him. He just lay there enjoying it.
It was a while later, after he’d finally managed to fall asleep, that he woke up. He wasn’t sure why. But-
Oh.
Oooh.
Marcy’s necklace.
It was sitting on the table–Marcy had left it there today. It was glowing. It’d been soft white all night–but now it was bright yellow.
Yellow. Yellow. What had yellow meant?
Thistle disentangled himself from the pile and snuck over to the door, peeking his head out. He didn’t see anybody.
“Hello?” he whispered. “Is somebody there?”
There came a sound, then–a sort of tittering, accompanied by light flapping. He turned his attention upwards and saw some small fuzzy creature way, way high up near the ceiling. It frantically dashed into the room and smacked into the wall, then tumbled down. When it finally stopped its erratic movements, Thistle saw it was a bat with tawny red fur.
No, not a bat–the real creature emerged from the form of the bat as soon as it touched the ground. It was a fuzzy humanoid with protruding fangs and triangular ears.
The fish tank flipped open. “Yo, Thistle!” Jewel shouted. “Are you gonna wake anyone else up and tell them there’s a fucking vampire in the house or do I need to do it?”
“A vampire?” Thistle squeaked.
“Gotta be. I mean, just look at him. Right?”
The new arrival flipped himself upright from where he’d fallen on the ground, still on all fours, ears pinned back against his head nervously.
“Thistle?” said Moon’s sleepy voice, and his head appeared out the door, eyes still half-closed. “What are you shouting about?” His eyes widened as he saw something was up. “Oh?”
“It’s a vampire,” Thistle said. He looked over. “Right?’
“Well yes but, I’m not–I don’t want to hurt you,” the creature said. His ears were still flat and his voice trembled, as though not entirely sure he would be believed.
Oh, he was speaking Pixish. The language a predator would typically speak if their primary prey was Pixies.
“I’ll go get Marcy,” Thistle said. He looked behind him and saw Marigold stirring in the bed, with Jax not far behind. “...I’ll stay here with Marigold. Moon, you go get Marcy?”
“Am I your messenger?”
“...Yes?”
“...All right.” Moon drew himself out of the house and spread his wings, then took off upstairs.
The new arrival watched him with wide eyes. Clearly he’d never seen one of Moon’s kind before.
“Thistle, who’s that?” Jax whispered.
“Just stay inside. I’ll handle this.” He gave a nervous wave to the creature. “Hi. I’m Thistle.”
“I’m Auburn,” he said. Pixish actually had more words to describe colors than English, with Pixie’s sensitive eyes able to see more with minute differences. He wasn't sure if vampires could see the same way, but the word he gave as his name, Kasabrua, the closest translation of which was Auburn, actually referred to the very specific shade of red in the coat of a fox’s fur. That was exactly the color his fur was, so it was fitting–it was basically the equivalent of calling him “Foxy” or “Vixen,” although Thistle knew those two words had…. connotations in English that they wouldn’t have in Pixish.
“Hi, Auburn. It’s nice to meet you. My friend Marcy is coming downstairs. She’s a human. Is that okay?”
Auburn hugged the wall, like he was afraid Thistle was going to attack him. “Yes. Yes, please, I’d like to meet her.”
Thistle and Auburn kept tense eye contact with each other as Moon came back down, followed by Marcy, still in her pajamas. “Oh my gosh, hi!” she said with restrained enthusiasm. She knelt down beside Thistle, who fluttered onto her lap.
Auburn kept his eyes on Marcy, body tense. He was clearly terrified, but he made no motion to leave.
“He speaks Pixish,” Thistle said.
“Hi,” Marcy said gently. “I’m Marcy.”
“I’m Auburn. You’re really big.” He swallowed. “Sorry, um… I'm not supposed to be seen, and I’ve never met a human before. So, so it’s a little scary.”
“She is pretty big,” Thistle said. “But she’s nice. Do you want to tell us a little bit about yourself?
“Well, um… I heard that all kinds of creatures live here together in peace, even predators. So, so I’m interested in. That.” He flattened himself against the ground, as though to disappear. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course that’s okay,” Marcy said. “Where did you hear it? Who?”
“A, um. A tree creature told me. A dryad.”
Marcy and Thistle looked at each other.
“Could it be the same dryad that told Jax?” Thistle poked his head into the house. “Jax?”
Jax crawled forward, just peeking out. “The dryad that told me was a big tree.”
Auburn shook his head. “The dryad that told me was a holly bush.”
Okay, they were definitely going to have to coerce Trilloras to come out and answer questions. They’d already tried every combination of begging, coaxing, and threatening they could think of to get her to come out, yet her sapling remained totally inert. They were starting to think that maybe she was asleep or unconscious and couldn’t hear them.
“It sounds like they’re different dryads,” Marcy said. “But that’s okay. We don’t have to talk about them. Let’s talk about you.”
Auburn nodded nervously. “Right, right. Um. I just want to live in peace. So, so if this is a place where I can do that. Then I want to stay here. If that’s okay.”
“Sure!” Thistle said brightly, absolutely delighted. “Sure, we’ll figure out a way you can live here.”
Auburn drew forward slightly. “Real, really? Um, mostly I was worried about…where I would hunt. Um, since–if–it seems like everyone here–”
“We can figure that out,” Thistle said. “We have a trick.”
“Can we talk about it in the morning?” Moon said. “I’m not ready to be awake yet.”
“Right!” Auburn squeaked. “Sorry, sorry for interrupting. Um, you can, you can go back to sleep.”
Marcy looked from Auburn to Thistle, then sat on the couch. “I’ll stay down here.”
“Okay,” Auburn said bashfully. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s just to watch things. You’re probably not tired because it’s night, huh?”
“I’m… tired. I could sleep.” He sounded dejected.
“Okay. Um. How do you sleep?”
“On the ceiling.” He looked morosely up at the ceiling. “But there aren’t any footholds.”
Marcy tapped her chin. “Oh! Hold on, I know.” She went into the next room and retrieved Colin’s pullup bar, mounting it in the doorway. “There, like that?”
Auburn clung to the wall with his creepy little hands, shimmying up it until he was far enough to push off and jump into the air. His arms transformed into wings as he flapped them, and he propelled himself up to take hold of the bar.
He hooked his feet around it and hung upside-down, ensconcing himself in his wings like a blanket. “This, this is wonderful. Thank you. I can stay up here?”
“Yeah,” Thistle said. “That’s okay.”
“Thank you.”
Auburn seemed peaceful enough, but Thistle was still glad that Marcy was nearby.
Despite being too tired to function, he wasn’t sure if he would sleep much with a vampire hanging over the room.
***
The pixie pile did manage to get a decent amount of rest in the end. Thistle woke up feeling recharged and energetic–ready for a day full of art. Because that would be step one to welcome a new resident: it was his responsibility to befriend Auburn so he wouldn’t have to hunt. Now that he’d already done it with Severa and knew it was possible, it didn’t seem so daunting. If anything, it was exciting.
True, Auburn was scary. He was almost as tall as Moon. His fangs poked out of his mouth. He clearly was a lot stronger than Thistle. He slept overhead, hanging menacingly. And he drank blood–probably, they hadn’t seen that yet. He’d probably attacked and maybe even killed people. But he was already here peacefully and seemed willing to do what they asked. This couldn’t be harder than Severa, surely.
Auburn was still in the same place hanging from the pullup bar in the morning–true to his word, he was fast asleep and looked exhausted when everyone else was stirring. Teddy and Colin came down, and more introductions were had. Teddy very valiantly hid her disquiet at seeing Auburn, while Colin was concerned about rabies. Marcy reassured them it was safe and that she would handle it, although privately she was also a little bit worried about rabies.
Thistle made the rounds to gather a group for a painting session. Marigold, Jax, and Severa were on board without needing any cajoling. Moon declared he was going to try it, since he was warming up to Thistle’s silly projects. Jewel said he didn’t want to do anything involving paint, since it got all over his skin and felt bad in the water, even if it was nontoxic. Violet couldn’t be coerced to come out even though Petunia definitely would have enjoyed it, but whatever.
“Art is a great way to bond,” Thistle said, laying out his paints. He had Marcy lay out some canvases for them to paint. “It’s a great activity to do together, and you can talk while you do it. This will be a great way to get to know each other.”
“I admit I thought it quite useless at first,” Severa admitted. “But I am starting to enjoy it more.”
“It’s growing on me, too,” Moon said.
Auburn knelt next to the paints, touching one of the tubes. “Great! Um, so, what, what do I do?”
“You, um…” At this point Thistle noticed that Auburn’s hand was shaking. “Hey, are you okay?”
Auburn drew his hand back, then gave a pained smile. “Oh, sorry. Um, I haven’t, um, I’m pretty hungry, that’s all.”
Thistle felt like he’d been smacked in the face. That was why Auburn was tired enough to go to sleep last night? He simply hadn’t eaten and therefore had no energy? He’d been sitting there hungry enough to start trembling and didn’t say anything?
“Hey, we can’t have fun and bond on an empty stomach,” Thistle said gently. “Come on, let’s take care of that first.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” Auburn said quickly. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“We want to, though. We wouldn’t tell you to stay here and then make you starve.” Oh whoops, Thistle had said that and then remembered that Auburn would presumably have to drink someone’s blood. Thistle certainly wasn’t eager to volunteer himself for that.
Fortunately, Severa spoke first. “I will help you. You drink blood, yes? I have plenty of blood, and my magic is strong.”
Auburn practically wilted with relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Severa reached down and pried one of the scales on her abdomen back, exposing vulnerable, soft flesh. Auburn crept near. “It’s really okay?”
“Yes.”
Auburn leaned over, shaking, and gently made a soft cut with his fangs, then clamped his mouth over the wound, taking small sips.
Severa put her hand on his head. A tear leaked from his eye.
After a moment, he drew back, wiping his face. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Severa pushed the scale back down, wincing but not complaining.
“There,” Thistle said. “Everyone is okay and feels good. Right?”
Severa and Auburn both nodded.
“Good. Now let’s get painting.”
Thistle guided Auburn, Severa, Moon, Marigold, and Jax through laying out their canvas and starting to apply the paint to it. Marcy participated too, sitting on the floor with a proportional paper.
“So,” Thistle said conversationally as they worked. “Auburn, can you tell us a bit more about yourself? What made you decide to seek us out? Why did the dryad tell you to come here? If you know.”
“Oh, um.” Auburn had red paint all over his hands and was putting paw prints all over his canvas. “Well, my family kicked me out of my colony. So, so I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.”
“That’s horrible!” Jax cried. “I can’t imagine if Thistle kicked me out! Why would they?”
Auburn’s ears drooped, and the motions of his hands became slow and unenthusiastic.
“Jax, he might be sensitive about it,” Thistle chided. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, Auburn.”
“No, it’s okay.” He dipped his hands in yellow and started making yellow pawprints. “Well, I’m, um, I’m a Worthless, so when things got tight, I was the first to go.”
The exact word he used was Struntajo, which meant roughly worthless, but he said it like it was supposed to mean something more. Thistle had never heard anyone use it that way.
“What’s that mean?” Jax said, once again failing to understand what a sensitive topic is.
“We can talk about it later if you want,” Thistle offered, wincing.
“No, it’s okay. I didn’t realize you’d have no way to know what that is, I guess.” He clasped his paint-laden hands together. “Um, when prey is plentiful, vampires will sometimes have an extra pup in their litters that’s small and weak. If there’s enough to go around, the runt gets enough food to grow up strong. But, but if there isn’t, then the runt is there to take the hit when they have to make sacrifices if things get worse.”
“Sacrifices?” Severa said.
Auburn shuffled his feet. “Leave it to die, usually.”
“That’s horrible,” Severa said, utterly horrified. “They have an extra baby on purpose for the sake of having something to sacrifice if their gamble doesn’t pay off?”
“I mean, it makes sense if you think about it. At least, I mean. My siblings all contributed more to the colony than I did. So, so when resources started getting scarce, it’s better that they could cut me off rather than someone who actually helped. You know? As soon as I became an adult they made it clear I had to leave if I didn’t contribute more. It wasn't a surprise or anything.”
Severa clenched the paintbrush she was using so hard that it snapped in half. “That is a horrible way to think about it. I could never dream of even considering sending someone I’d raised from a little baby out to die just because they weren’t useful enough.”
Auburn shrunk away from the anger in her voice. “Er, well, if there isn’t enough to go around…”
“Then you get more, or you yourself go hungry. That’s what being a mother means, not this- this perversion where children are seen as an investment you expect returns on in the future.”
Auburn rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, well I’m not a parent, so I guess I wouldn’t know.”
“You’re right,” Severa snipped. “You wouldn’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” Thistle said, trying to rein the conversation back in. “That sounds very difficult. So that’s why you were looking for somewhere else to go?”
Auburn nodded. “I’m bad at hunting. I’m small, weak, not a strong flier, and not good at magic. My family got tired of helping me, so I haven’t been back to the colony.… I’ve been.” Tears welled up in his eyes again. “I’ve been just barely hanging on. You’re the first ones who have been nice to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Marigold said. “I’m surprised to find myself sympathizing with a predator at all, but I truly can’t imagine what I would do if my family were like that.”
Thistle was intimidated to think about Auburn being a runt, considering how very large he still was. Thistle very bravely stood near him. “Do you want a hug?”
Auburn nodded miserably.
Thistle wrapped his arms around Auburn’s midsection, and Auburn’s arms came around him gently.
“Ooh, you’re soft,” Thistle said into his fur.
Auburn chuckled. “Glad there’s something good about me, at least.”
“I am not jealous,” Moon announced mechanically. “I am also soft, and it’s fine that there are multiple soft people in the house that Thistle likes to touch. It does not reflect on my worth as an individual.”
Thistle sighed and looked over his shoulder. “Good job, Moon.”
Moon gave him a thumbs up.
***
@static-stars
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MAN HOLY SHIT HOW HAVE I NEVER REALIZED YOU ARE ODD-CHIPS AND YOU'VE APPARENTLY REBLOGGED MY TURBO ART LING BEFORE TOO !?!?!?!
I'M A MASSIVE FAN OF YOUR ART AND I HAVE BEEN FOR YEARS HI. Your kc blog is one of tbose that motivated me to want to start working on my own for a while now !!!!!
Some day in the future I may also be planning to IM you for a commission or two... given the topic of this ask you might already have an idea of what (better said, who).
GIKJFDIMKFD TO BE FAIR!! My URLs are not at ALL similar.
I've noticed usually people share a recognizable element between their art blog and main, but unfortunately, AllHailWeegee has been my online name since 2008 for literally everything.
"Odd-Chips" only came about when I NEEDED some type of distinct art name (it used to be "OrandaTheUnclever" because. I couldn't think of a name and my friend suggested it hILJKFD)
ANYWAYS I DID!! I REMEMBER SEEING IT POP UP ON DEVIANTART AND SCOURED FOR ANY OTHER PLACED YOU POSTED IT HLKFMKLFD I thought I followed you afterwards cause your style fucks, but apparently not! (This Has Now Been Rectified)
ALSO OH MY GOD AUUGGHHHGHHH!! 🥺 🥺 🥺 I'm so glad to have inspired you and that you like my art so much, hrhgrhhgh! q_q)!! I know that the WiR fandom is a bit small now, but that movie still has a huge chokehold on me and I KNOW it does for other people, too. So I think people would go absolutely sicko mode over a new KC blog.
In any case, I DEFINITELY wanted to try to reopen my commissions again before the month is over! When I moved, I ended up closing them and forgetting about it since I was so preoccupied with acclimating to the Great White North, haha! I LOVE GETTING PAID TO DRAW THAT BALD HEADED BITCH. >:)!! (Ask @appelsiinilight, they'll tell you)
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#nintendask#dungeons and dragons#dnd#TWO (blue) CHOICES THIS TIME INSTEAD OF 3#april fools shenanigans#iggy draws#april fool 2k22#Iggy Koopa#Ludwig Von Koopa#Lemmy Koopa#Wendy O Koopa#Roy Koopa#classypartynerdpalace#appelsiinilight#liktyar#alydacat#fruityg0re#anonymous
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I’m still reeling from the fact that Sherpa and Bugsy are actually siblings... (LIKE I DIDN’T HALLUCINATE THAT RIGHT??? LIKE THAT’S CANON FOR YOUR WORK RIGHT???) How was their childhood?? Do they ever hang out??? What’s the rest of the family like?? How do family gatherings go?? What-
Hahaha I'm just happy to see someone interested in this very random tidbit of this AU. I really wanted to give Sherpa some kind of off camera connection to the original story line, and also really enjoyed Bugsy as a character. So I figured, hey we'll probably never actually see him again (outside of maybe a prison cameo) why not expand on his character and give him some fan lore. ;)
here's how I imagine Sherpa and her Brother in their old carter school uniforms uwu
I always saw the way Bugsy carried himself made me think he came from a home of status and privilege. So their family would be semi wealthy. The reason Bugsy turns to the Banzai blasters is because he wants to be in a position of power.
the idea I had for their backstory is they come from a rather large family (having 3 other other older brothers and yes they are all giants) everyone's inscribed in their family except for Sherpa, she's also the youngest (More on this in a future post)
So think typical sibling dynamic where being inscribed meant you were held at a higher importance where Sherpa was just the runty youngest one who had to hold her own.
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@desert-scng tagged me to do this, thanks friend <3
rules: put your favorite playlist on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people. no skipping!
so uhh i thought abt picking something less embarrassing but. that wouldve been dishonest so yeah. these are from a playlist with the words “gay yearning” in the title
Plan B - Faint Endless
Say It’s Possible - Jay Brannan
Levoton tyttö - Sanni
When You Were Young - The Killers
Call Off Your Ghost - Dessa
Sometimes - Be Steadwell
The Harold Song - Kesha
I Think I’m in Love with the Girl Who Works on Checkout Six in Decathlon - Brett Domino
Ribs - Lorde
Ballerina - Vilma Alina
i think im actually gonna follow the rules for once, so ill tag @noir-renard @untitledrockshow @lumi-kukka @dykerory @softnadjah-png @appelsiinilight @sorceringing @batmanisagatewaydrug @lilbarb and @mxuanyu no pressure tho obv !!
#tagged meme#ngl when harold song popped up all blood drained from my face#anyway this was fun lol thanks jere
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I’m slowly working through all the wonderful prompts folks have so kindly sent in! MASSIVE thanks to @appelsiinilight for the proposal prompt! I actually have written a fanfic snippet to go along, but I want to edit it a bit more before I post it! I do have one fic for them ( all-audiences friendly ) on A03 but I don’t know if Tumblr likes links very much. If you want to read it, my username is the same on there, too. >^ a w a ^<
Times are kind of scary right now, so I’m putting as much happy fluff into the world as I can to mitigate that! <3
Sorry this is messy and unpolished! I wanted to post it anyway because I feel like a little love is needed today!
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@monstriframinerva you're stinky but ty for tagging me 😳😳😳
rules: tag 9 ppl you wanna get to know better!
top 3 ships: I HAVE SO MANY it's unreal but uhh def sale/luca (jojo) just bc it's the most self indulgent + underrated and u know i'm the ceo of indulging. stan saleluca please im so lonely. kaneda/tetsuo (akira) is also something i rly vibe with i just think they're neat... such a good dynamic. last but not least uhh prob like mera/percy, asuka/rei or giovanni/arnold idk they're all v good
lipstick or chapstick: chapstick def... makeup gets an assbeating from yours truly :]
last song: either lamb by brockhampton or idolstep by ミカヅキBIGWAVE 😳 cannot remember....
last movie: akira!! thanks to a hw assignment i have an excuse to rewatch it tomorrow heeehaw
reading: a book we read in school
3 random things that make me happy: uhm... very cheesy of me but 🤲 my boyf and friends/mutuals.... fictional men who i simp for... and doin art
getting the curse of being tagged: @bugtoons @beeandmoxie @appelsiinilight @wannacrymetoo @simp4kaito @freetimesketchbook @mosstalon4 @egitd IDK WHO ELSE TO TAG
#tycho.txt#idc if u make your own post or just rb and add to this one go off anyways#this was rly fun actually 😳
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@appelsiinilight Sentimentality, perhaps? 🤔 either way, that’s valid, hope you have a good day & come across a decision regarding this blog that feels satisfying!!!
Probably lol. I’m actually very grateful that people enjoyed this blog even after the change in ownership and content despite my lack of confidence in it. It really saddens me that most of my memories of running this blog are just...gone, not being the fault of anyone but my own inability to remember stuff, ever. It’s something I’ve struggled with most of my life, even things I swore to myself I’d never forget, I still ended up not remembering.
Reading my old bio and posts, I probably wouldn’t mind doing the solo Turbo blog idea. Although “Turbo who isn’t THAT Turbo” was done so much back in the days, I don’t even know what I could do that would keep it unique compared to the rest. Not that it matters much, the WiR fandom is pretty much dead and from what I hear, WiR2 was so bad it killed it completely, which is why I’m event afraid to watch it.
....also I’m typing this from my phone’s browser and holy shit I haven’t seen this way of making posts in YEARS.
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Tinytopia Chapter 5: Endless Rebirth (Part 1)
Story Masterpost
On AO3
Thanks to my beta/sensitivity reader @appelsiinilight!
In this chapter: Marcy starts to refocus her efforts on life at home, just in time to receive yet another visitor.
Warning: This chapter features a dog mauling that goes slightly above the intensity usual for this story.
***
Out in the park, a young borrower wobbled through the grass. Dirt stuck to his fur and under his fingernails, and he wandered around lost until a tree nearby turned and bent over to scrutinize him through the knots in its trunk.
“Oh, hello?” the borrower said, backing up nervously.
You seem lost, whispered a voice like wind creaking through branches. What are you doing here?
“I don't really know,” the borrower said. “Sorry. I'm all alone, though. Hey, what are you? You're the only talking tree here, I think.”
The tree creaked and swayed for a moment. Then: I am a dryad, and I think I know where you should go.
***
Marcy’s first act as a full-time housekeeper was to take stock of everyone who was already in the house. They’d been managing mostly fine without her, but Moon was right. There were more little creatures running around, and if this was going to be Marcy’s main focus, she could spend her time thinking of ways to make life here better for them.
Thistle had always known Marcy was smart, but he was awed to see her in action. She was a bundle of nerves, of course–she always was–but now that her attention was fully on things here at home, it became obvious just how passionate she was and how hard and quickly she worked. It seemed like her failed PhD program was forgotten almost instantly.
The first step was to help Thistle, who also seemed similarly overwhelmed by everyone new showing up, make his guest book. It was a large book for Thistle’s standards, but small for Marcy–the size that a human could write in it, albeit with some difficulty, and allow plenty of room for denizens with tinier hands to write without being overwhelmed. It was a good compromise–and Marcy got something from the craft store that would be a bit sturdier than a notebook, a bound book with blank pages and a cover ready for decorating. Thistle put off ramping up his sellable art projects for just a bit to decorate it. It didn’t take too long.
Then he went around and made an entry for everyone. Marcy at the same time made a note of their wants, needs, and habits, in case she could spot anything that could be coordinated or made better for everyone.
Thistle insisted Marcy be on the first page. Then the other humans: Teddy and Colin. They were here first, so might as well go in chronological order.
Teddy and Colin were the owners of the house, so it was important to make sure they were okay with everything going on. Well, Colin was the owner of the house, but he mostly cared about using the house to make Teddy happy. Both of them had been pretty gracious about everything, but Marcy would still need to ask permission for major changes. They worked alternating schedules, sometimes on the weekends and sometimes off on weekdays.
Mochi was put in the basement when none of the humans were home–that was just for safety. Marcy’s continual presence there would be good for her, too–the cat would have to spend less time locked away meowing mournfully to be let out, since Marcy could make sure she didn’t pose a threat to any of the tiny creatures.
Then there was Thistle, of course. He was the star of the show, in Marcy’s opinion. He was usually awake at 9 or 10AM until about midnight. He slept either in Marcy’s hand or, more recently, he’d taken to sleeping with Moon on the desk or nightstand in Marcy’s room. He alternated, wanting to sleep with them both but knowing Moon wasn’t comfortable sleeping on top of Marcy yet. He spent most of his days in the living room: his art supplies were on the floor, his little painted castle with his clothes and knickknacks was there, and he could hop up on the couch to watch TV when he wanted to. He made paintings and drawings and clay figurines and sold them all online. He had his silkworms there, too, for petting and taking their silk and the occasional snack. He would practice flying when he had someone to help him–which would be a lot more often now that Marcy would be home basically full-time.
Jewel, of course, spent all his time in the fish tank. He’s been warming up to socializing more, albeit slowly–very slowly. He was free to keep his own schedule, although he was mostly limited to sleeping at night when no one was in the living room with him to keep him awake. Sometimes Colin would talk him into letting himself be scooped up and taken out for various social activities–Colin was really the only one he trusted to do that, although he was starting to open up to Marcy and Teddy a bit more, too.
Violet and Petunia had been given permission from the humans to live in the walls and very rarely came out–they were by the far the most introverted members of the household. When Thistle wanted to get ahold of them, he usually walked over to this little crevice in the dining room baseboard, stuck his head in, and yelled for them. If he did that for long enough, it would summon Violet eventually. He had managed to get them to come to a few social gatherings, but never for very long at a time. Violet always acted like she had places to be and important things to be doing, although maybe that was just because she was jittery, in more or less constant motion. Petunia always loved coming out, although even she would start to obviously lose her stamina for socializing after two or three hours and start to nod off.
Severa spent most of her time occupied with whatever activity Thistle was doing, seeing him as her main source of nourishment now that she no longer hunted and relied on their bond to sustain herself. She didn’t seem to have any strong preferences about socializing or activities, just sort of letting herself be subjected to whatever everyone else around her wanted to do. The only exception was when Petunia came out, because she prioritized fawning over the baby above everything else. She spent most of her time in the wooden house Thistle had helped her put together and decorate, which was on the living room floor beside his own. Every time anyone gave her a gift she did not know how to properly use, she simply put it in there, so that she had a sort of miniature treasure hoard that she slept in like a dragon. But she’d also stuffed the wooden house full of fluff and blankets to make it a proper nest. Thistle could tell it was because she was half-hoping it would host an egg or a child someday, but for now it made it very cozy for Thistle to sit in with her when he felt like it. He was getting more comfortable around her–he wasn’t scared to sit in her coils anymore, having complete confidence she wouldn’t attack him.
Moon kind of wandered around. They were sure to always keep a window cracked open for him, so he could visit without feeling trapped in the house. He vanished into the night outside sometimes, but he spent a lot of time bathing in the moonlight on a windowsill or roof. Thistle kept asking him not to go out and seduce anyone else and Moon assured him he wouldn’t, just that he was often seized by wanderlust that he needed to get out of his system. He complained endlessly about the light during the day, but he’d shifted to more of a half-diurnal, half-nocturnal schedule to spend more time with Thistle. He made himself at home wherever he happened to be–and spent more time than not hanging around Thistle–but apparently felt no need for a house or nest to call his own. He had his magical shrinking wardrobe that seemed to carry every possession he thought worth keeping.
And now Marigold and Córva were here. Marigold was healthy enough that it was probably okay to leave him alone, but Thistle was still loath to leave him for any long amount of time. He spent most of his time in the living room next to Thistle’s house, passing his time doing the exercises the vets recommended for him, writing in Pixish or drawing, watching TV, or reading on Thistle’s phone–Thistle had convinced him to start learning English, although he didn’t seem to be very excited for it. They’d set up a baby gate to keep Mochi out of the room–Marigold was clearly afraid of her, although she’d shown no major signs of aggression around him. Córva hung around outside, mostly in and around the lovely little birdhouse Colin had built for her, and she would swoop down to meet Marigold whenever Thistle wheeled him outside. Teddy brought birdseed out for her, which she always ate happily, though she didn’t seem dependent on it, thankfully, since she was still a wild bird and could come and go as she pleased.
That just left Trilloras, the social-phobic dryad. Planted out in the yard. Thistle had stood by her sapling and begged and pleaded for her to come out over and over again, but nobody ever got any response from her. Marcy was starting to think maybe she’d imagined the whole thing, but Thistle and Moon always confirmed they’d seen Trilloras, too.
He really wanted her to sign the guest book, though.
“Come on,” he whined, lying out in the grass. “Just for five minutes. I won’t tell anyone!”
No response.
“You’re living in our yard, you know!”
No response.
Thistle groaned and rolled over. Marcy retrieved the guest book from where it lay in the grass beside him. “We could just try again tomorrow, hm?”
Thistle kicked his feet. “Why won’t she just come out, though? Ugh!”
Marcy scooped him up. “Come on, if she doesn’t want to sign it, she won’t sign it. It’s not the end of the world.”
Thistle crossed his arms and let himself be ferried back towards the porch.
Marcy smiled at him.
“What?”
“I just think you’re cute.”
Thistle blushed to the tips of his ears. “What am I doing that’s cute?”
“You have so many friends back in the house, but you’re stuck on making one more out here.”
Thistle crossed his arms. “It’s just not right that she’s in our yard and won’t talk to me. Right?”
“Just be patient.”
Marcy stopped. There was a borrower on the steps. Looking up at Marcy with ears twitching and tail lashing. He was young, fresh, and bright-eyed.
“Oh, hello!” Marcy said, keeping her voice low. He must be new. She'd never seen him. That was a different one, right? “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Do you know Violet and Petunia?”
The borrower rubbed his hands nervously.
Thistle leaned over Marcy’s hand, peering at the unknown borrower curiously. “Do you speak English?”
His mouth struggled to form words, then he nodded. “Yes,” he said bashfully. “I’m just shy. Sor-sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Marcy knelt down, letting Thistle off into the soft grass. “It’s great to meet you. What’s your name? I’m Marcy, and this is Thistle.”
The borrower clambered down the stairs, hoisting himself with his strong arms. “My name’s Jax.”
“It’s great to meet you. Do you need something?” Obviously it would be fine if he didn’t–Marcy would be excited about any magical creature staying here for any reason at all–but since borrowers seemed so shy, it felt… odd to see one approach so openly and directly, and with no apparent goal, as a complete stranger.
Jax stopped by Marcy’s shoe. Thistle gave little jumps of excitement but said nothing.
“A dryad told me this is a place where lots of different magical creatures live in peace,” Jax said. “Even predators. Is that true?”
“Yes!” Thistle shouted, excited. “Yes, it’s so true! You can come live here, too!”
Marcy turned back towards Trilloras’s tree. “A dryad told you that?”
Jax followed her gaze. “A dryad far away. Is that a dryad too?” His tail swished excitedly.
“Yeah, but she doesn’t want to come out and talk,” Thistle said sourly. “You talked to a different dryad?’
Jax nodded. “And she said everyone lives in peace here, even predators! I wanted to see it for myself. A bunch of different kinds of creatures living together! Even predators!”
How would a second dryad have known about their house, and why would it have told this random borrower to come here? It was... strange. Confusion overtook Marcy's excitement briefly.
“You’re welcome to see it!” Thistle cheered. He didn't seem to care about the details much at all, too excited about the paradise they were building. “Yes, yes! Come on inside!”
“Er, we just met Jax,” Marcy interjected, noting Jax’s demeanor. “I don’t know if he’d be comfortable coming inside just yet.” And this whole thing felt...fishy.
Jax nervously swished his tail.
“We could bring someone out here to meet you,” Marcy said. She had all day, after all. She could bring Severa and Moon and Jewel and Violet out one at a time and just watch them all talk. The thought made her giddy. This was so much better than a PhD program. “Did you want to meet… A predator?” He’d sounded so excited about it.
Jax nodded. “That sounds lovely!”
“Okay. Wait right there. Thistle, wanna come so you can translate?” There was still a bit of a language barrier between Marcy and Severa, although they’d both been working to close it. But best not to have any misunderstandings.
Thistle nodded, and Marcy picked him up. “Okay. Wait right there, Jax. We’ll be right back.”
Marcy went inside and found Severa upstairs, looking out the second-story window. “Who were you talking to?” she asked.
“There’s a new friend!” Thistle said. “Another borrower! Do you want to meet him?”
Severa flicked her tongue out. “Yes, as long as he also wants to meet me.”
“He does!” Marcy said. “He…”
She trailed off, because something caught her eye out the window behind Severa. Oh no. Oh, no. Buster, the neighbor’s dog, was trotting right towards their front yard.
“Shit!” Marcy dashed away immediately, leaving Thistle and Severa in the dust. She leapt down the stairs as fast as humanly possible, nearly falling if not for the bannister. She threw the front door open just as Buster started to bark.
Jax was standing in front of the dryad sapling, examining it while biting his finger. His ears swiveled as he heard the dog rapidly approaching.
Apparently Jax did not possess very good survival instincts, because he turned to face the dog barreling towards him with its mouth open and teeth exposed–and did nothing.
“Shit!” Marcy shouted, sprinting over. “Jax, run!”
It was too late. Buster reached the borrower and snapped his jaws around him. The tiny, furry body disappeared with a pained, high-pitch squeak.
“Buster!” Marcy shouted. “Drop it! Fuck! Drop it!”
She tried to reach out to grab his collar, but he dashed away from her like they were playing a fun game. “Drop it!” Marcy screamed. The image of Jax’s body disappearing into that maw was burned into her brain.
After an agonizing minute of chasing him in circles as his tail wagged, Marcy finally managed to catch his collar. “Drop it! Drop it!” Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision, but she refused to let go or give up. She forced Buster’s head towards the ground.
Buster finally opened his mouth and let the drool-covered bundle drop into the grass.
“Shit!” Marcy said, seizing Jax immediately. His body ragdolled in her hand, and oh God, there was so much blood.
She clutched him to her chest and went back inside, slamming the door.
***
They made an emergency call to Lalitha and Jaden, but it was obvious Jax was dead on arrival. Thistle tearfully pressed his ear to Jax’s chest to listen for a heartbeat. Severa checked his pulse and smelled him over for signs of life. Moon tried what healing magic he had, but the borrower’s body was so ravaged by the dog’s enormous teeth that he’d probably died more or less instantly.
Colin blew his lid when he found out what’d happened. He stormed to the neighbor’s house immediately, and the volume of his shouting at her could be heard even all the way from Marcy’s bedroom. He couldn’t very well say that Buster had murdered someone, though–so he settled for saying Buster had killed a small animal Marcy had been fond of, which wasn’t exactly a lie, and that this was the last straw and if he saw Buster loose on the lawn again, he was going to call animal control.
The neighbor promised to keep a closer eye on the dog, then got away from him as quickly as possible. Colin was still fuming when he got back to the house.
He decided it was finally time to put up a fence. Their property was big enough that they couldn't really fence in the whole thing, but Colin had enough handyman know-how to put up a fence at least around the immediate vicinity of the house. Chainlink was the perfect option, since it'd allow small creatures to slip through but block bigger ones. The humans all had to pool together their money to get the funds for it, but they all agreed it needed to be an immediate priority. Marcy still walked around looking shellshocked, and she constantly stayed in the same room as Thistle, hovering protectively.
Not even Violet had any success getting ahold of Jax’s family or friends, so they buried his body in the backyard and had a little funeral themselves. Marcy set up a little grave with a headstone, and they all stood around looking very solemn.
“A damn shame,” Teddy said. “No little critter deserves that.”
“Yeah…” Thistle said. He was crying mightily.
“Does anyone want to say anything else?” Marcy said.
“Um,” said a small, unknown voice. “I could. Who are we mourning?”
All eyes fell on the new voice–which was–
It was Jax. Just standing there at his own funeral. He looked just as fresh and bright-eyed as a few hours ago before he’d been mauled to death. Not even a tear in his clothes, or a hair out of place.
Marcy blinked at him. “Uhhh-” She looked from the grave to the new Jax, as though trying to figure out how he might have crawled out of the little shoebox coffin they’d made him. But no. He’d clearly come from a different direction, approaching while they were all looking at the grave.
“You're dead,” Severa said bluntly.
Jax blushed. “Um, no, I'm just fine. See?” He did a handstand, tail wiggling in the air.
“Hey, uh, Jax…” Thistle said. “You're not… actually a borrower, are you?”
Jax inverted himself upright sheepishly.
***
@static-stars
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All Creatures Great and Small Chapter 16: Tea Party
Surprise! Two in one day. Sometimes you just get a little excited over your blorbos >:3
In this chapter:
youtube
Story Masterpost
On AO3
As always thanks to @static-stars and @appelsiinilight ! :)
Important note: Since is the first chapter in the series that's had large portions of dialogue in Pixish interspersed within large portions of English dialogue, I decided to differentiate the two languages by putting Pixish dialogue in italics. Thistle, of course, understands both, but I thought it was important to make it obvious at a glance which language was actually being spoken because not all characters in this chapter are bilingual.
***
Marcy, a human who spoke English and a little bit of Pixish.
Thistle, a pixie who spoke Pixish and English.
Severa, a naga who spoke only Pixish.
Jewel, a merminnow who spoke English and his native underwater language, which no one else at the table spoke.
Moon, a moth fairy who spoke English, Pixish, and a number of other unknown languages.
And Violet, a borrower who only spoke English.
For someone who'd never expected to meet anyone who wasn't a Pixie, and who'd only been vaguely aware of the existence of other languages until recently, it was a lot. Especially since they were all going to be at the same table.
Marcy helped Thistle set up. They got out the biggest table he had–it was from a doll tea party set. It was always a challenge to find furniture that was scaled exactly right since there was such a variety, and this particular set he treasured both because it happened to be exactly the right size for him, and because it came with a set of usable teacups and a teapot, all made out of fine ceramic. Thistle privately thought it was too nice for a child to use for play, and any parent giving this to a clumsy child would be a fool.
He got out the plates he had too–likewise from a set for dolls. These ones were a little too big, but Thistle figured that was all right since Moon and Severa were bigger than him anyway. Marcy got him a nice, thin towel that made an excellent tablecloth, which he shook out and put over the table before putting out all the place settings. Marcy dug out the castaways from other mismatched sets that Thistle didn’t use–for Violet, a chair from a set that had been too small, and for Moon, one from a set that had been too big. Thistle had Marcy set the table on stacks of notecards to elevate it until Moon’s chair was the correct height, then do the same for the rest of the chairs until they could all sit equally level at the table. Violet’s chair was cartoonish–she would have to climb a stack more notecard than chair to get up to the table, but the alternative was making Moon sit with his knees to his chest, which Thistle didn’t want to do. The chairs were all boosted to the appropriate height in the end, and Thistle preened, so excited about having such a variety of people to talk to.
The whole setup was placed directly next to Marcy’s table setting, so she could sit at the human-sized chair to participate…and be within grabbing distance of the participants.
Teddy helped him make some small cakes, which he set out with a little bowl of jam. Colin got out the mealworms and put them in an ornamental dish, and also arranged crackers, cheese, and fruit at Thistle’s instructions. Marcy started brewing the tea so it would be hot when everyone arrived.
Teddy and Colin asked if they should participate, and Thistle apologetically told them it would probably be better to minimize the number of humans looming over them. He didn’t specify names, but he knew Moon would probably be incredibly unhappy with having three giants at the table. Teddy and Colin made themselves scarce, wishing Thistle good luck and shutting themselves in their bedroom to watch TV. He could see the disappointment on their faces, though they were happy to support him. They were good friends like that.
He didn’t blame them for being disappointed. This was going to be great.
Jewel arrived first, mostly because he arrived when Thistle instructed Marcy to scoop up some water and carry him over to the table in a mug. She set it down and pushed the cup flush with the small table, so Jewel didn’t have to lean over so much.
“Hey, bug boy!” Jewel shouted as he was set down. “This is quite a spread you’ve set out!”
“Yeah!” Thistle enthused. “Teddy helped me–no!” He cried this last part with horror as Jewel tried to take some of the cakes. “Stop! We can’t eat until everyone else is here!”
Jewel let go and held his hands up defensively. “Sheesh! All right.”
“No need to be snippish, Thistle,” Marcy chided.
“Sorry,” Thistle said, embarrassed.
Jewel crossed his arms and rested them on the lip of the cup. “Marcy… Are you…?” He looked at her from under his eyebrows, clearly struggling to get the words out. “Um.”
He’s scared, Marcy realized. She drew her hands around the cup, which caused him to flinch back, which wasn’t at all what she’d intended.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she said. “I promise. I’ll be keeping a very close eye on her.”
Jewel nodded, some of his tension dissipating. “Right. Thanks. Maybe this will be nice…or at the very least, not a disaster.”
Violet arrived next. Petunia was dragged along behind her, clutching her leg, sobbing and wailing about how she wanted to go to the tea party too. Violet told her over and over that she couldn't because it was too dangerous, and eventually Marcy convinced her to go sit in the pink dollhouse instead.
Violet was still a little nervous about being handled, so she rappelled herself up to the top of the table with a grappling hook. “Eh,” she said. “I forgot ‘bout the fishmen.”
“Yo,” Jewel said, raising his hand. "I'm Jewel." He'd been trying to get less shy about telling people his name at Colin's suggestion, not that he would ever admit he'd taken it.
"I'm Violet," she said, looking at the food instead of Jewel.
“Don’t touch the snacks, or Thistle will bite your hand off.”
“They’re for when everyone gets here!” Thistle insisted. “It’s just–Violet!”
Violet had started taking a cracker even as Thistle had been speaking. “It’s just one from a stack,” she said, holding it up. It was the size of a dinner plate to her. “No one’ll notice it’s gone.”
“...everyone already at the table will notice, because we just saw you–You know what, fine, pick your battles. You can have one cracker, but that’s it.”
Violet slipped the cracker into her bag. It stuck out the top very visibly. Thistle walked over and gave it a kick, which broke it so the pieces slid down into a heap in the bag.
“Hey!” Violet said. “Don’t touch my stuff!”
“Your st- Violet, I-”
“It’s all right, Thistle,” Marcy interrupted. She reached over and picked him up by the back of the shirt, and he went limp like a kitten that’d been scruffed. “Don’t get all worked up, everything is fine. We have more crackers.”
She set him down in one of the chairs. Thistle looked embarrassed again. “Sorry, I just want it to be perfect.”
“Because that moth man is going to be here, is that it?” Jewel said, smiling devilishly.
Thistle went bright red and hid his face.
“Speaking of,” Jewel said.
Thistle instantly stood up, craning his neck at the window Moon had instructed them to leave open for him to enter. It was five minutes after the start time of three o’ clock, which was the fashionably late he’d warned Thistle about.
Moon alighted on the windowsill, fanning his wings and peering into the house cautiously. He wore the outfit they’d picked out together - a deep blue velvet suit with a red cravat and a wide-brimmed hat topped with a feather, the sunglasses tying the whole look together.
Thistle had warned Marcy to try and be restrained around Moon to not freak him out, so she sat at the table vibrating with excitement, eyes burning on him with barely held-back eagerness.
Moon spotted Thistle and fluttered onto the table. Thistle jogged over, smiling big. "Moon! Moon, thank you for coming!"
"Of course. It’s lovely to see you." Moon slid his sunglasses down to peer at Violet, still sitting at the table. "And who's this lovely creature?"
Violet blushed and squirmed. "V-Violet."
Moon took her hand and gave it a kiss. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he purred. "You may call me Moon."
Violet blushed even deeper and giggled. Thistle felt dread crash over him. Oh no. This was the worst thing that could have happened. Moon is like this with everyone.
Marcy couldn’t hold it in any longer. She leaned over, grinning. "Moon, it's-"
Moon cut her off with a glare. "You may call me Mister Moon."
Wow, okay, so maybe not everyone. Marcy wrung her hands, enthusiasm shot. "Right, okay…. Mr. Moon, it's great to meet you. Thistle's told me about you."
Moon pointed at her with his cane. "Let me make something perfectly clear for you. I am not here for your entertainment. You are not to touch me, ever, nor my companions without explicit permission immediately beforehand. As long as I am in the room, there will always be a nearby window open, or some substitutable manner of egress. You are not to stop me from attempting to leave, and you are not to make demands of me. You are not to touch me, ever. Do I make myself clear?"
Marcy looked cowed and chastised. "Y-yes, sir."
"Moon," Thistle whispered. "You don't have to talk to Marcy that way. She's nice."
Moon turned away from Marcy. “Never hurts to set clear boundaries.”
Thistle mouthed Sorry to Marcy, and she shrugged.
“Well, Marcy is going to make sure everything goes smoothly, and that Severa really does stay nonviolent. Um, I’m sure she’d love to talk with you, Moon, but-”
Moon pointedly turned his back to Marcy and walked over to the table.
“Right,” Thistle said. “Um.” He skittered over to Marcy. “Sorry, Marcy,” he whispered. “I want you to have fun, too, but it might be better for you to hang back and not intervene unless someone is in physical danger.”
“Oh,” Marcy said, trying not to let it show how crushed she was. “Right. I’ll…I’ll observe.”
“I’m really sorry, it’s just-”
“No, no, I get it.” She was trying very, very hard to get it and just be happy to be an observer–it really was an incredible privilege very few other humans had ever gotten–but she felt herself getting more upset with Moon. Of course it made total sense for him to be standoffish around her–there was no telling what kinds of experiences he had in his past–but could she not even interact with Thistle freely when he was around? Surely he didn’t have the right to demand that?
She kept her eyes on him. His frame was broader than Thistle’s, more muscular, and Thistle barely came up past his waist. Thistle seemed…more at ease around him much more quickly than he had been with Marcy.
Don’t be jealous. Don’t be jealous of a guy eight inches tall. That’s too ridiculous.
More than that, she was burning with curiosity. She knew even less about him than Thistle did, even less about him than she knew about Jewel and Violet and Severa. It was a significant effort to not just reach out and brush her fingers against him. The temptation was real, but she knew the consequences would be dire.
His wings were beautiful, with eye spots. He smelled nice. He fanned his wings as he stepped forwards towards Jewel, getting on with the interrupted introductions. "And who might this strapping specimen be?"
Jewel flushed deep red and sank down into the water in his mug, averting his eyes. For someone who’d been teasing Thistle about having a crush, he’d gotten awfully quiet as soon as the attractive one had shown up.
"This is Jewel," Thistle said. "He's shy."
"I'm not shy!" Jewel burst out.
"Then say hello."
He looked nervously at Moon. "H-hello."
"There," Moon purred. "See, I don't bite."
Marcy cleared her throat. "Speaking of… It seems like everyone is here now. Should I bring her out? Is everyone ready?”
The creatures on the table scuttered to their seats. Moon took the seat to Thistle’s right, leaning his cane against the chair, while Violet sat at the end of the line.
That left the other half of the table empty. A gap big enough for the largest tiny person invited.
“I think we’re ready!” Thistle said, flashing her a thumbs-up.
“Ready,” Moon announced.
“Let’s go, I guess,” Violet said nervously.
Jewel glowered and crossed his arms. "Sooner it can be over, I guess."
Marcy walked into the pantry, leaving the tiny creatures alone.
“Why are we doing this again?” Jewel said.
“If I can form a connection with Severa, she might not need to hunt,” Thistle answered.
Moon was staring at him. Thistle shrunk under his gaze. “I just–I just think it’s worth trying to find some way she can live without killing people.”
Moon folded his hands on his lap. “That’s awfully noble of you.”
“I still think this is kinda stupid,” Violet muttered. “She’s a predator.”
“We can at least try!” Thistle insisted. “If you had to eat people to survive, I’m sure you’d love for someone to try and help you! She’s hurt and trapped and scared and she has no way to help herself! You’ve been there!”
Violet’s ears lay flat back against her head. “I-I guess.”
Thistle nervously looked back at Moon, searching for approval. Moon looked surprised, if anything. “You really mean it. You really have compassion for her despite being terrified of her.”
Thistle fidgeted with his fork, unsure if he should try to confirm or deny it. He certainly felt something, and there was definitely both compassion and terror in his maelstrom of emotions.
Marcy came back, mercifully cutting the train of conversation off. She set the cage on the table and said in awkward Pixish, “All right, Severa, ready to exit?”
Severa tentatively uncurled, looking up at Marcy, and nodded.
“Remember, if anyone says she goes back in, she goes back in,” Marcy said to the others in English. "I’ll grab her as soon as you give the word."
“Your kind certainly are good at grabbing,” Moon commented darkly.
Marcy waffled back and forth on how to handle the rude comment, before she decided to just ignore it and unlock the cage then lower the door open.
Severa hauled herself out of the cage, slithering her long body over the door. Despite their agreement, all the small creatures at the table fidgeted. Jewel’s eyes were wide. Violet flinched repeatedly. Thistle’s breathing picked up. Moon’s face was cool and collected, but his ears twitched.
Severa didn’t seem bothered. She curled her coils up underneath her to use as a seat. "Hello,” she announced. "I am Severa."
Thistle suddenly realized he would be stuck translating if he wanted Jewel and Violet to understand Severa. "She’s introducing herself."
“Uh, h-hey,” Jewel said in English. "I’m Jewel."
Violet opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it shut, grabbing the tablecloth.
“You may call me Moon,” Moon said in Pixish. He reached out and lifted her hand up as though to give it a kiss. She was the only one big enough to have hands significantly larger than his.
She looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “What are you doing?”
His eyes flickered up to her, eyebrows raised. He quickly turned her hand sideways to give it a handshake instead. “Just–just a greeting, darling!”
“He’s just being friendly,” Thistle said in Pixish. “These are my friends Jewel, Moon, and Violet.” They weren’t his friends yet, not really–he didn’t make any magic with them. But he was patient. He’d get there eventually. “Jewel and Violet only speak English. But I can translate for them.”
Severa nodded. "Thistle intends for us all to be friends. I am willing to give it a try, though I do not think it will work." She put her enormous, scaly hand on the table. "How do we have…a tea party?”
Thistle perked up. "Well, you sit around and talk nicely and drink tea and eat snacks." He switched to English. "I told her your names, and I’m explaining to her what a tea party is." He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but he hadn’t even considered the logistical difficulties. He’d never had to serve as a translator before. This was going to be…cumbersome.
"Wonderful," Severa said. She never had any enthusiasm in her voice, or much emotion at all. "May I eat, or will that upset your little friends?"
"Yes, go ahead!" He switched to English. "Everyone take some yummy snacks now! Dig in!"
"Finally," Jewel complained. He took a cake and bit into it. He got sparkles in his eyes immediately. It looked like he was about to cry, enraptured by the taste.
"You've never had cake before?" Thistle asked.
Jewel shook his head.
"Well…what do you think?"
Jewel swallowed quickly, face burning. "It's….fine." He quickly reached over and took two more.
Thistle beamed. “Yeah, it’s– Violet!"
Violet had been shoving food into her pack without even eating any of it. "What? You said we could have the food!"
"To enjoy with each other! Not hoard for later!"
"I'ma borrower! We hoard and save for later! It’s kinda our whole thing!”
Severa reached out towards the table, and everyone fell silent. Her enormous hand dipped into the bowl holding the mealworms and emerged holding one of the wriggling creatures. She simply opened her mouth and swallowed it whole, in one smooth motion.
Thistle tried to convince himself it wasn’t scary. He reached into the bowl and took one of his own. He bit the head off–that was as big of a bite as he could get. We’re not so different. See? We even eat the same food! She’s just big enough to eat the whole thing in one bite! Oh God oh God oh God-
“Is it working?” Thistle said, voice shrill. “Does anyone feel anything?”
Violet’s tail thrashed. Jewel nibbled on his cakes, rendered speechless. Moon lifted his teacup up and spoke in English. “I feel thirsty. I thought this was a tea party? Hm?” He waggled the cup.
“R-right! Marcy, can you pour the tea?”
Marcy’s mind was filled with horrible images of her spilling the hot liquid all over the tiny people at the table. Don’t think about it, don’t spill it, holy shit. She took the teapot in the center of the miniature table and brought it over to herself, then filled it with tea from the larger teapot.
“There you go,” she said, setting it back. “Enjoy!”
Moon ignored her and picked up the miniature teapot, pouring himself a cup. “My, this smells delicious! I haven’t had tea in ages–not since I lived with those borrowers back in Louisville.”
Violet’s tail curled upwards. “You lived with borrowers?”
“Yes, indeed! And I know what you’re thinking, how could that have possibly worked? Considering our, ah…” He gestured to Violet, tracing an imaginary line from her head to his. “Differences.”
“Wha’sthasupposestamean?” she demanded.
“I’m simply referring to the fact that I’m nearly thrice your size, darling.”
Violet looked a bit mollified.
“But to answer the question, I simply used magic to make myself smaller!”
“You can do that?” Jewel said, astonished. “The most I can do is make myself look like a fish, but I don’t actually turn into one.”
“Yes, I know a number of spells I can use to modify my appearance!”
Thistle’s mind ran off with that thought. Was this…was this what Moon actually looked like?
"What is he saying?" Severa said.
"He, uh, he said he lived with borrowers for a while, and he can do magic to alter his appearance, including shrinking himself down."
“That’s fascinating,” Severa said, voice as flat as ever. “All of my magic is for helping me hunt.”
Moon looked nervous. “Erm…right.”
“Although I suppose for certain kinds of creatures-”
“That’s enough about hunting,” Moon said. “Magic is fascinating, and it has many uses beyond hunting.”
"You don't have to be scared," Thistle whispered to Moon. "Marcy will stop her if she tries to hunt us."
Severa took the teapot and poured some into her cup. “You know, Thistle,” she said, lifting the cup in her enormous hand. She was able to fully close her hand around it. “I’m surprised you’re so tense around me, but perfectly at ease around Moon, considering he’s an ukubó.”
There it was again. A word he’d never heard before in Pixish. Thistle was faced now more than ever with the realization that his knowledge was limited to whatever his hive had known about magic, and whatever knowledge gaps Mother’d had, he now had as well.
Whatever the meaning of the word, Moon didn’t seem to like it. He stood up, slamming his hands on the table and rattling everything on it. “Do not say that in front of them,” he growled.
Thistle, Violet, and Jewel drew back fearfully.
“They don’t know what it means,” Severa said, amused. She lifted her teacup to her mouth and took a sip. "Two of them don't even speak Pixish."
Had…had Severa just called Moon a slur or something? “Severa, please be nice,” Thistle whispered. He’d have to ask later what that word meant.
Her mouth turned up in a wry smile. “Fine.”
Hackles still raised, Moon sat down.
"What exactly is going on?" Jewel said, irritated. "You're all just yelling at each other in Pixish."
"Sorry," Thistle said. "I think Severa called Moon a rude name or something."
"...huh, I didn't expect her to attack us emotionally."
Moon crossed his arms. “But, yes, to get back to the point, I’ve interacted with a number of species of magical creatures and learned a number of magical spells.”
“Well lah-de-dah,” Jewel said, burying his nose in his teacup. “Mr. Cool Guy over here. Thinks just because he smells nice he’s God’s gift to the table.”
“He does smell nice!” Violet piped up. “Like hickory and cured meats and cheeses!”
Questioning eyes fell on her. “What?” Jewel said. “No he doesn’t. He smells salty, like ocean water.”
“That’s you,” Violet insisted.
Moon’s frame shook with laughter, and he leaned in towards Thistle. “What do I smell like to you, my dear?”
“You smell like…honeysuckle. Wildflowers.”
Moon smiled, eyes soft. “You all have discovered my pheromones.”
“Ph…eremones?”
He picked up a cube of cheese and weighed it in his hand. “I smell different to everyone. It has to do with my magic, you see.”
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a grappling hook catching on the table and distant grunting sounds.
Violet leapt out of her seat and rushed to the end of the table, peering over it. Of course it was Petunia hanging from the line of the grappling hook, shimmying her way up it in her prettiest dress.
“Petunia, get down!” Violet shouted. “Go back and play!”
“No!” Petunia shouted back. “I’m coming to the party!”
Severa uncoiled herself and slithered away from the table. Marcy hesitantly raised her hands as though to stop her, but nobody told her to, so she didn’t. She let Severa go over to the edge and lean over to look down. Violet’s knees buckled, and she fell, shuffling away from Severa but refusing to leave the grappling hook.
What Petunia saw was her sister’s face looking down at her, then the much larger face of a scaled predator leaning into her field of view. She froze halfway up the line, letting out a scared meep.
“You-you see!” Violet yelled. “It’s dang’rous! Get back!”
Petunia’s gaze stayed frozen on Severa. Severa stared back, eyes misty, tears brimming. “Oh, oh my God,” she breathed. “That baby is so small. Whose baby is that?”
Thistle got up and got between Severa and Violet. “That’s Petunia,” Thistle said. “She’s Violet’s little sister. They don’t have parents. Violet is taking care of her.”
“No parents?” Severa said, heartbroken. She put her hand over her heart. “Can…Can I hold her?”
Thistle bit his lip. He already knew what the answer was going to be, but he had to translate it anyway. “Violet, she’s asking if she can hold Petunia.”
“What!” Violet stood up ramrod straight, fur on end. “No! Definitely not!”
“Violet, if she wanted to hurt Petunia, she wouldn’t ask to hold her.”
“Maybe it’s just to get her up on the table.”
“She wants to hold me?” Petunia’s distant voice said. She cautiously restarted climbing up the rope. “Everyone else is up there and nothing bad happened!”
“Please,” Severa said desperately. “I would never hurt a child. Please let me hold her.”
It suddenly clicked for Thistle. She had an egg due. Either she was hormonal, or she had a soft spot for children. Maybe this could be the key. This was the first time she’d expressed any strong emotions about anything at all. Even during hunting her general demeanor had been passive chagrin and dull acceptance of the situation at hand.
“I can’t,” Violet said, starting to cry. “I can’t let Petunia get so close to a predator. I can’t. Thistle, even if your humans are here to watch, they won’t be able to stop her in time if she hurts Petunia while she’s holdin’ her.”
That…was a very good point. Thistle had no counterargument. “Okay, you’re right about that… But what if we just let Petunia come up on the table? She doesn’t have to get close. Severa’s been here long enough that we can see she’s not going to just ballistic for no reason.”
Severa kneaded her hand, still looking at Petunia.
Violet hesitated. “All…all right. But only if Teddy comes and sits at the table too.”
“No,” Moon said instantly. “Having one human here is bad enough.”
“Would you all just calm down!” Thistle said, stomping. “Nothing is even happening. I’m the one she tried to kill, not any of you! And none of the humans in this house have done anything except try to be supportive right now!”
Moon flushed and turned away. Violet fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and muttered.
Petunia’s little hands finally appeared at the edge of the table, dragging herself up. She wound her grappling hook line behind her. “I’m here!”
Severa made a motion to start towards her, but Thistle stood in front of her, despite his own hands shaking with fear. “Severa, wait.” Marcy is here, Marcy would stop her if she attacked.
She stopped, eyes still on Petunia. “I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“I believe you, but Violet is uncomfortable with you holding her.”
Severa flexed her hand, looking anxious to interact with Petunia.
“Violet?” Thistle prompted.
Violet’s head swung from Thistle to Severa to Petunia. “I…Okay, she can sit at the table. But she has to be at the seat farthest from her.”
“Thank you,” Thistle breathed, having no idea how to resolve this otherwise. “I promise she’ll be safe.” He turned to Severa. “How about you sit at the table together for a while before we talk about holding her?”
Severa backed up slightly, coils wrapping around herself. “Yes. Okay. Thank you.”
The small creatures all cautiously retook their seats. “Everything okay?” Marcy whispered.
Thistle flashed her two thumbs up. “Everything’s cool, calm, and copacetic!”
Petunia dashed over, giggling happily, and clambered up into Violet’s lap. The poof of her dress crinkled against the table. “Vivi! Look at all the food!”
“Yes,” Violet said cautiously. “You can have some.”
Petunia opened her bag and started shoveling food in. Ah. Well, Thistle wasn’t going to tell Petunia not to do that.
Severa watched the tiny borrower, her expression now completely different. She had a soft glow about her. She was smiling. “Your dress is very pretty.”
Thistle translated. “She said your dress is pretty.”
Petunia perked up. “Yay! Thank you, thank you! Your ribbon is nice.”
Thistle translated. Severa reached a hand up and stroked her hair ribbon. “I’m not sure why I wear it. I suppose it feels nice, sometimes, to feel beautiful, instead of only destroying beautiful things.”
Thistle’s skin crawled. Every time he’d almost managed to start forgetting Severa’s true nature, he was reminded of it somehow. He decided to only translate the Thank you.
Moon cleared his throat. “So tell us more about yourself, Severa. Do you have any children of your own?”
Thistle certainly hoped not, because they would have been keeping her from them the past few days. “No,” she answered, much to his relief. “Though not for lack of trying. My first hatchling starved to death, because I was a poor hunter at the time. Inexperienced. My second disappeared from my nest at the hands of a predator while I was away. My third egg was laid premature, small and feeble, and when it hatched it was not strong enough to survive. I’ve held off on mating for a while after that, since I could not take any more heartbreak.”
“Oh?” Moon said. “That’s tragic. I’m so sorry.”
Thistle privately thought it wasn’t tragic at all for there to be fewer nagas in the world, but he did have to admit the idea of innocent babies dying was sad, of course. Theoretically. In reality, he was struggling to detach himself from the hivemind way of thinking–that he shouldn’t feel bad about someone dying if they were a threat to the hive.
But he wasn’t with his hive anymore, he was with Marcy, and Severa wasn’t a threat to her.
Severa’s gaze came over and burned into Thistle. “But I do have an egg due soon, now. I hope it will be different from the others, but I do not have much hope. I need lots of magic to produce a healthy egg.”
“Right…” Thistle hadn’t felt the spark of magic he knew meant he was making a connection with someone else. Severa was just too scary. It was easy to say you were friends. It was harder to actually do it. You couldn’t fake it. You could lie to yourself, but you couldn’t lie to magic.
Severa picked up her teacup agitatedly. “Perhaps your plan would work, Thistle, if I were allowed to hold the baby.”
“I’m sorry,” Thistle said. “Violet doesn’t want you to.”
Severa slammed her cup down. “I would not hurt a child! I have never hurt a child! You act like I am a monster!”
You ARE a monster, Thistle wanted to say, but he didn’t, of course. “I’m sorry.”
“Uhh, Thistle,” Jewel said nervously. “What’s happening?”
Severa’s tongue flicked in and out, and her sides heaved as she hissed in air. “We both know this isn’t going to work. I’m going to die, and you’re not even going to let me hold the baby before I die. And for what?”
Marcy’s hands crept closer, alarmed by the visible increase in agitation.
“Severa,” Thistle squeaked. “Please. It’s not going to work if you get mad at me.”
“It’s not going to work at all!” Severa got up, leaning over the table at Thistle. “We both know that! You are trying to defy the natural order of things! You are foolish and naive! To think I could be anything other than a killer, a predator! I am hungry! And not for companionship!”
She lunged. Jewel splashed back in his cup, Violet grabbed Petunia and darted away, and Moon threw himself at Thistle to push him out of the way.
She didn’t reach him, though: Marcy’s hand closed around her, yanking her up into the air.
Severa writhed in her grip, squeezed her wrist. Petunia cried loudly. Severa stopped and looked down at the little girl, tears in her eyes.
“I wouldn’t hurt a child,” she insisted.
Still sobbing in fear, Petunia got up and scampered away, Violet not far behind.
“Come back,” Severa wept. “Come back. Please. If I could just hold a baby one more time, I could die happy.”
“Okay, teaparty over,” Marcy declared. “Sorry.”
***
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Tinytopia Chapter 8: Endless Rebirth (Part 4)
Story Masterpost
On AO3
Thanks to my beta/sensitivity reader @appelsiinilight!
In this chapter: Thistle forces Moon into the horrors of personal growth.
***
“So how's it going?” Sierra's voice came from the tinny phone speaker.
Thistle groaned and rolled on the floor.
“That good, huh?”
“I feel like shit.” Thistle put his hands to his face. “Moon left the house, and he knows how to not be found when he doesn’t want to be. So I can’t even chase after him to make up.”
Marcy, whose job had recently become mainly Sit nearby whatever Thistle is doing, was at the desk. She tapped him with her foot. “I’m sure he’ll come back.”
“He can’t stand that I’m paying more attention to someone else,” Thistle said. “I’ve never had to deal with this before.”
“Well, it’s not like there’s anything you can really do about it,” Sierra said. “It’s a, like…him problem. Right?”
As much as Thistle loved Sierra, she wasn’t always good at giving advice. He sighed. “Yeah, maybe. It’s just–there’s been so much going on, with Marigold, and Jax is–He’s so interesting, but I don’t know if I should–if he’s–and now Moon is mad at me, and the stupid dryad still won’t even come out!”
“And prom is tomorrow!” Sierra added.
“What?”
“It’s–nevermind, stupid joke.”
He sighed again. “I told Jax we could talk about more pixie stuff later. I think his first body is still in the walls with Violet.”
“Well, you should get Marcy to help,” Sierra said. “Isn’t that what you were trying to do? Have Marcy’s job be to manage everything at home? That could include settling conflicts.”
“Oh, ah…” Marcy said.
“Come on, you’re super smart, I bet you’d be great at it!”
Marcy tapped her fingers. “I could…try, I guess. But I don’t know where Moon is, either. Maybe we should just wait for him to come to us in his own time. Pushing probably won’t make it any better.” Right?
***
Marcy took Thistle around to look for Moon in and outside of the house. It felt a lot safer now that they had the chain link fence up, but they didn’t find him.
They didn’t find him until he wanted to be found, which was later that day. Thistle heard him shouting from the window by Colin’s desk.
Marcy took Thistle and rushed up there. Moon’s magic wardrobe was set out on the roof adjacent to the window, along with a little stool, as though he’d been using the roof as a place to get dressed. Borrower-Jax was on the desk, and Moon was dragging him by an iron grip on his wrist. Moon was uncharacteristically frumpled and steaming mad.
“What are you doing!” Thistle jumped down onto the desk and pulled Jax out of Moon’s grip. Jax cowered, looking chastised.
“I caught that ruffian going through my things!” Moon said hotly. “I-I, you know, I set up my wardrobe to, well, for my apology–I was going to apologize to you, so I was just in the process of making myself beautiful for that. And I turn my back for one second and this–this–this–hooligan helps himself to my hairbrush!”
“I wasn’t going to steal it,” Jax insisted. “Honest, I wasn’t. I’m sorry. Please don’t yell at me. I was just touching it.”
“I don’t care if you weren’t going to steal it! Don’t touch my things!”
“All right,” Marcy said. She held her hands out placatingly–but she knew better than to touch Moon when he was upset. “Just calm down. We can talk about it.” Despite Sierra’s confidence in her, Marcy figured that was… probably the full extent of how she could actually help, otherwise being relegated to watching and hoping she didn’t have to grab anyone.
“Moon!” Thistle said, flabbergasted. “You’re mad at Jax for touching your hairbrush? Not even stealing it, but touching it?”
“He had no right!”
Thistle sat Jax down behind him, then crossed his arms. “Moon. Stop acting like this.”
“Acting jealous?” he sneered.
“Yes!”
“Tell Jax not to touch my things!”
“Moon, I will, but–Look, it was just a hairbrush! It’s not a big deal! Stop being a drama queen!”
Moon burst into tears and fluttered away. Thistle’s heart sunk into his stomach. This was bad. His friendship with Moon was getting worse, and he had no idea how to fix it.
Marcy watched Moon fly out the window and dive out of sight, not even bothering to pack up his wardrobe. She felt horrible about how this was going, and cradled Thistle and Jax in her palms.
Thistle sighed and turned around, helping Jax back up. “I’m sorry he yelled at you. He shouldn’t have.”
“I’m sorry I touched his hairbrush,” Jax said. “I won’t do it again.”
“I don’t even see why it’s a big deal,” Thistle said. “It’s not like you were going to do anything with a hairbrush.”
Jax bit his lip and looked away. “Uh. Yeah.”
Thistle stared at him. “Unless… Jax… is there a reason why it would be a big deal?”
Jax’s ears pinned back to his head. “Um… I…”
“Jax?!”
“I just wanted some of his hair!” Jax burst out. “I wanted to make a third body and have it be like his! It would have just been a few hairs! He wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t spotted me! I want to sit in the moonlight and make magic, too!”
Thistle stared at him.
Jax scuffed his foot. “Sorry.”
“His hair?” Marcy echoed. “For wh….Oh. Ooooh. For his DNA? Right?”
Thistle turned from Marcy to Jax. “Jax…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Is that what you meant by copying me? Did you clone me? Did you take some of my hair when I wasn’t looking?”
Jax’s face went bright red. “I’m sorry.”
Thistle let out a deep breath. “Jax, you understand that cloning someone without their permission is a lot less of not a big deal than just touching someone’s hairbrush? Right?”
Jax bit his lip.
“Right?!”
“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal! It’s not like it affects either of you at all!”
“Jax!” Thistle chastised. “You can’t just steal someone’s hair and use it to clone them without asking and expect them to not be upset!”
“But you were happy to see me incarnated as a pixie! It’s not like it’s a bad thing–right?”
Right. They were dealing not only with a completely alien creature, with completely different ideas of morality–but a baby one at that, who still had to be taught how to interact with other people.
Thistle massaged his temples. “This is–where to even begin. This is a lot.”
“Go find Moon,” Marcy said, scooting Jax into her palm. “I’ll stay here and try to explain this to Jax.”
Jax looked up at him through his eyebrows. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m–Maybe. I don’t know. Just… just stay here with Marcy for now, okay?”
***
He found Moon under a bush in the front yard, sitting with his knees to his chest, crying into his arms.
Thistle could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Moon cry. “Hey,” he said softly, ducking under the branches, bare feet padding in the dirt.
Moon looked up, then away, ashamed. He sniffled and wiped his face. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m too proud.”
“Well, that’s too bad. I’ve already seen you, Mr. Pride.” Thistle sat down next to him. “Hey… I think we both know this isn’t actually about the hairbrush. Do you want to talk about it? I’ll listen this time, instead of brushing you off.”
Moon kneaded his handkerchief. His eyes were puffy–but he still managed to cry beautifully. “It isn’t fair,” he whined. “It’s not fair that he gets to be so carefree and make friends like it’s second nature! I’ve been working so, so hard to–to… I don’t know. Be more genuine. Be a friend, instead of hiding behind lies. But it’s so hard. And then this guy comes along.” He gestures to the house. “And he’s just, apparently he’s just a better version of me.”
“Moon,” Thistle said sadly. “No, come on. Jax isn’t a better version of you. That’s–it’s just not true.”
Moon sniffed loudly. “That’s not–I mean, just look at him. He can do everything I can do and then some. He’s young and impressionable, enthusiastic and open and wholesome and energetic. I’m none of those things. He’s just more interesting than I am, now. What am I going to do if you get bored of me?”
“I’m not going to get bored of you. I’m sorry if I ever did anything to make you feel that way. It wasn’t on purpose. You’re great, Moon. I like having you around.”
Moon gave a pained smile, looking at the ground and gently bumping Thistle with his shoulder. “Probably a lot more when I’m not throwing little piss-fits, I imagine.”
Thistle giggled and bumped him back. “A little, yeah. I’m sorry, Moon. Even if it didn’t seem like a big deal to me, it was obviously a big deal to you, and I should have seen that.”
“Well, nobody’s perfect, darling. Except me of course.” Moon wiped his eyes, smearing his eye makeup even further. “I guess I felt… territorial, because I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing here if I’m not your favorite.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve just…spent so long pretending to be whatever someone else likes best that I don’t really know who I am when I’m just by myself. And I had the worst introduction out of everyone here, so I guess I feel… like I have to prove that it’s worth letting me hang around.”
Thistle snickered. “I don’t know about the worst introduction. Severa tried to kill me.”
“Well…”
“Jewel hid for months and months and then had to be picked up out of the dust.”
“...Point taken.” Moon groaned. “Oh no, I’ve just done introspection. The depths you force me to.”
Thistle smiled, took Moon’s hands, and pulled him up. “But look, it didn’t kill you. And I bet you feel better now.”
“I do sometimes forget things can get better instead of worse.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Thistle flickered his wings. “We found out something about Jax, too. Are you ready to go back and talk about what happened with them?”
“Only if you come with me.”
“Always.”
***
Marcy, meanwhile, had been prying Jax with questions to learn more.
Apparently Jax’s species picked up detritus leftover from other species to copy them–absorbing their DNA and, as far as she could tell based on his wording–residual magic that granted the hivemind access to some of the creature’s knowledge. Which would explain how Jax had received a shotgun blast of information to learn a language and some basic details without even meeting a borrower.
She couldn’t figure out what sort of larval form he’d had, if any, that could have picked up some borrower hair to get him started. He didn’t remember, of course, so maybe they’d never know.
It was incredibly difficult to pull her train of thought back on track to try and explain to Jax why being cloned would upset someone. He obviously had no instinctual feeling of it being wrong or creepy, but in the end he seemed to accept Marcy’s explanation that it would make others feel bad, and he agreed that he didn’t want to make others feel bad.
“So from now on, no cloning anyone else without permission, okay?”
“Okay,” Jax said, scuffing his foot. “I’m sorry. I’ll ask next time.”
Thistle and Moon made their way back upstairs.
“Thistle,” Jax called nervously. “Um, since I cloned you without permission, is it OK if I keep the pixie body, or do you want me to, um…”
Thistle stopped in his tracks. “Um. I don’t want you to kill my clone, if that’s what you’re asking.” His clone would be sort of like family, wouldn’t it? Either way, the thought of it dying upset him.
“Are you sure?” Jax offered. “It wouldn’t be hard. I could just-”
“I’m sure,” Thistle said quickly. “Just–just don’t do it again, okay?”
Jax nodded. “I will. Won’t. Thank you. Sorry.”
Moon flew himself and Thistle back up onto the desk. “You know, if you wanted to clone me, I might have let you if you’d just asked." Moon tossed his hair. "Who wouldn’t want to copy me?”
Jax swished his tail.
“...You can’t now, though. You need to prove you’re trustworthy. All you did by your approach was make me think you were up to something nefarious and get me all suspicious.”
“Sorry,” Jax said. “I’m still learning.”
Moon smiled gently. “I suppose I am, too. I’m sorry for getting upset with you. You’re very special, and I was afraid that would make people think me less special. But it doesn’t have to be a competition.”
Jax beamed and clung to Moon’s arm.
“All right, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Moon shook him off.
When they were done with their conversation, Thistle beckoned them to come into the living room. Among the lineup with Thistle’s house and Severa’s, there were two new small wooden houses, blank and ready to be painted.
“So, Jax, you’re going to need a big place to sleep if you’re going to have, er… multiple people sleeping. And Moon. Well, you never got a house.”
“You offered, if you recall. I’d said no.” He looked chagrin.
“Well, tough.” Thistle held out one of his very small paintbrushes. “Give it a try. If you don’t like it when we’re finished, you don’t have to keep it. But I bet having a place to call your own, physically here in the house, will make you feel a lot less insecure about your place here.”
Moon looked from Thistle’s house, to Severa’s beside it, to the hole in the wall beyond that Thistle had decorated for the borrowers with a small welcome mat, to Jewel in the fishtank above.
“And who knows? Maybe if you stop pretending you’re too cool to do the arts and crafts with us, you’ll find something you like that isn’t just Being Thistle’s favorite.”
Moon’s wings wilted.
“Come on, Moon. I like you, and I like having you around. But I want you to be happy outside of me, too. I don’t want your self-worth to depend entirely on my opinion of you. I don’t want you to get hurt like that.”
Moon thought for a moment, then smiled again. “Well, when you put it that way… All right. I’ll give it a try. Give me the brush.”
***
***
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Tinytopia Chapter 11: Bloodthirst (Part 3)
Story Masterpost
On AO3
Thanks to my beta reader and funnyman, @appelsiinilight
In this chapter: Thistle forgot the most important rule of a hive.
***
They decided it was a good idea to put up the enchantment Marcy had on her necklace around the entire perimeter of the house. They’d put up a fence after all, and what had once been an interesting novelty was turning out to be shockingly useful. Thistle wouldn’t have known Auburn was coming if Marcy hadn’t happened to leave her necklace on the table that night.
They made a day out of it. Moon was the one who had to do the most work, and although he clearly hated working hard he did love to be the center of attention. They had him replicate the glowing enchantment on every individual bulb of several strings of Christmas lights, which would then be wound around the perimeter of the house.
They set up a workstation, with Moon seated cross-legged and Severa nearby to pull the lights so they would appear on his lap one by one. He crossed his hands over every individual light to imbue it with the charm. Marcy wound the lights up and provided new strings when they made enough progress, and also provided general moral support.
Moon playfully announced that he was using so much magic he needed to replenish it, which Thistle did by kissing Moon and allowing him to drain some. Eventually the requests became less playful and more cranky as Moon clearly wore down. By the time he took his tailored suit off because he was sweating and running out of energy, Severa decided to join in and let him kiss her as well. He was so tired he didn’t even add any flare to it. He couldn’t even pull her in for it, because she was so much larger than him; he had to settle for her leaning down over him.
By the end, he lay panting on the ground, splayed out and thoroughly wrung-out. “Thistle, tell me I did a good job.”
“You did great. You’re the star of the show.”
“Damn right I am.”
Marcy started to wind the lights around the porch banister. It was glowing soft white because of the presence of Moon, Thistle, and Severa on the porch with her, but the others nearby in the living room were surely powering it as well. “It’s starting to get a little bit crowded in the house. I never thought I would say this, but do you think we might need more room?”
Truly the magical denizens of the house didn’t take up that much space themselves, but they were starting to run out of room on the floor of the living room for more little wooden houses. Maybe while they were doing infrastructure additions, they could see to that.
“Maybe.” Thistle monitored Marcy’s placement of the lights. “Auburn seems perfectly happy to just hang from the pull-up bar.” Auburn seemed to be afraid to take up any space. Marcy had actually bumped into him a few times, his furry body smacking her in the face as she rounded the corner to use the doorway, forgetting that he was there. He’d always break down into a stream of panicked apologies, thoroughly convinced it was his own fault. “Although… I’m starting to sense a pattern here. We should… maybe be prepared for others to show up unannounced.”
“Yeah.” Marcy sat back on her knees. “It’s exciting, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also a little… worrying? If word has gotten out… somehow… that everyone’s congregating here… who knows what’s going to turn up next?”
It was a daunting prospect, though definitely an exciting one, too. “Yeah.”
***
They got the answer about who was going to turn up next soon enough.
They were trying to do a pixie pile again, but Auburn’s voice interrupted their sleep.
“Please leave. Please.” He was whispering it.
Thistle rolled over and noticed the lights visible on the front porch were glowing red. Apparently they’d put them up just in time, a few hours before a threat would show up.
Great.
He stuck his head out and saw Auburn up on the pull-up bar, and now there was a second bat hanging next to him. This one was significantly bigger.
Oh. Oh, yeah, Auburn was definitely a runt.
“Who’s that?” said the second bat.
“That’s Thistle,” Auburn said miserably.
“Your little friend.”
“Don’t–don’t touch him.”
The second bat let go and swooped down, wings contracting down into arms as she landed. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Auburn followed, looking very nervous. “Seriously, don’t. Please.”
“How did you get in?” Thistle asked, having a bad feeling.
“There’s a hole in the eaves of the roof,” Auburn said quietly. “We can, um, fix it up tomorrow.”
“I dunno, I think you should leave it,” the new bat said. “Auburn, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“This is, um. This is my mother, Dusk.”
“I followed his scent trail here and how surprised I was to find my little boy with such a well-stocked household! Imagine a runt like you with such a bounty, Auburn!”
Electric fear surged through Thistle. He suddenly remembered all the instinctual, decades-old fear about leading predators back to the hive he’d been managing to suppress recently.
Auburn had led a predator back to the hive, even if it was his own family.
Maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe Dusk was nice. Maybe he just needed to give her a chance.
Thistle shakily got to his feet. “Um, hi. I’m Thistle.”
“Hi, Thistle.” Dusk grabbed Thistle by the front of his pajama shirt and hoisted him into the air. Thistle yelped with fear, feet dangling.
“Stop!” Auburn cried.
“You’re a runt, Auburn. You exist to make use of our leftovers. Not to sit in luxury like this. If you manage to get prey, you're supposed to bring it back to the colony for everyone, not keep it for your own greedy ass. I know I taught you better than that.”
Auburn shied away, tears pooling in his eyes. But luckily he didn't need to do anything.
Moon appeared from the house, shirtless and in pajama pants but spitting mad. He clamped a hand on Dusk’s wrist.
“Try it,” Moon said through gritted teeth. “See what happens.”
Dusk scoffed at him. “Is a fairy trying to threaten me? I hunt your kind for-”
Moon’s hand started to glow red hot. Dusk yelped and dropped Thistle, yanking her arm back. A few stray hairs went up in smoke.
Moon curled his hand into a claw and manifested a dancing flame in his palm. “I’m sure you’ll find me harder to hurt than your usual prey. Teddy and Colin have been oh-such-gracious hosts, so I’d really rather not burn their house down. But I will if you force me to. I'm feeling dangerous tonight.”
Dusk and Moon stared at each other with hatred.
“You clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with,” Dusk snarled. “Do you even know what vampires are capable of? Bow to me, thrall.”
Moon flinched, but otherwise didn’t move.
Dusk exploded. “What the fuck? You’re supposed to be hypnotized! You’re supposed to be mind controlled! Why can’t you act like proper prey!”
“I know a thing or two about hypnosis,” Moon growled. “I’m afraid you’ll have to try that on an easier target.”
“Please, Mama,” Auburn pleaded. “Please just go home and don’t come back.”
“Like hell I am! You expect me to just-”
“Jax, go get Marcy,” Thistle whispered as they argued. No way he could shout loudly enough to wake her from here.
Pixie-Jax spread his wings and took off, but as he leapt over Dusk, she grabbed him by the ankle and slammed him back down. “I’m not leaving here until I’ve had my fill!”
Dusk gripped Jax by the hair and sunk her teeth into his neck. Everyone squawked in alarm. Moon reached for her with his hot hand again, and she dropped Jax and hopped back.
“It would be best for all of us if you just went,” Moon said.
Dusk bared her fangs at him, but she did back up. Moon held his flame out. Dusk made a motion like she was going to go for Jax again, but Moon crab walked and moved the open flame between them.
“Fine!” Dusk shouted. She snapped her fingers and pointed to the ground. “Auburn, come on.”
Auburn hugged closer to Moon and shook his head.
“You selfish, greedy boy, come here. We have some things to discuss.”
Auburn leaned into Moon’s shoulder, frozen in fear. Moon maintained the flame in his hand, eyes narrowing at her.
“Leave,” Moon repeated.
Dusk grit her teeth. “Don’t think you’ve seen the last of me.”
Her form exploded into a bat, and she flew away on leathery wings, tittering angrily, disappearing up into the upper floor and then into the attic.
Severa’s scaly head peeked out over the top of her wooden house. “What’s going on out there?” she said sleepily.
Thistle stood from where he’d been cowering at Moon’s feet, shaking with fear and burying his face in Moon’s chest fluff.
“You’re all right,” Moon said, stroking his hair.
“Thank you for-for not letting her hurt me.”
“I would never.” Moon planted a kiss on top of his head. “I'm the only one who gets to enjoy how delicious you are."
Thistle held his hand down to help Jax back up. "Are you okay?"
Jax looked appropriately shaken, hand clamped over his neck. "Um...Yeah. Thanks."
"Auburn, darling," Moon said tightly. "You said there’s a hole in the eaves of the roof? Perhaps when Marcy wakes up we can make sealing that shut our first priority.”
***
Thistle cursed as his pencil lead snapped, rolling over the paper he’d been using to write. He’d been making some updates to the guest book and figured he could add Dusk in too. Just to keep track. But he’d been making a rough draft before writing in the actual guest book, and he was glad now. Dusk didn’t deserve an entry in the guest book.
“We just need to find Violet and Petunia,” Marcy’s voice echoed above him.
“I’m sorry, Thistle.” Auburn stood nearby, nervously wringing his hands. “I’m sorry. Please don’t kick me out. I didn’t mean to bring her here. I didn’t tell her anything. She just found my scent.”
“It’s not your fault,” Thistle said stormily. He picked up the nub of lead and continued to write unkind things about Dusk. Why couldn’t she just be nice, like Auburn? Why did she have to make him debate whether he had to kick people out for leading predators here? He wasn’t a Mother; he wasn’t equipped for making those kinds of decisions.
“The borrowers,” Marcy said again. “They’re the only ones missing. We need to gather them up.”
Someone finally heard Marcy and took pity on her. “I will go look for them,” Severa offered.
While she moved off, Marcy sighed and knelt next to Thistle. “Okay, Jewel’s here, obviously, and you and Jax–both of hims–Moon, Marigold, Auburn. Severa is going to get Violet and Petunia. Trilloras is in the yard… I don’t think we can move her, but she should be okay, right?”
Auburn lowered himself down to the floor by her knee. “I don’t think Dusk will go after the dryad.”
“Okay–you’re sure?”
“She…” Auburn swallowed, trying to figure out a tactful way to say it. “She doesn’t smell like prey. It would be like drinking sap, not blood.”
Marigold tugged on Thistle’s sleeve. “She won’t hurt Córva?”
“Auburn said she wouldn’t go after something that big, especially if she wouldn’t get any magic out of it.”
“Yeah,” Marcy said. “I’m more worried about all of you in here.” She was relieved when Severa slithered back out of the wall, Violet in her arms and Petunia sitting on her shoulders. Marcy had been half-afraid Dusk had already gotten to them. “Okay. That’s everyone, then.”
The tiny creatures all crowded towards her.
“What’s the plan, Thistle?” Marigold said. “There’s a threat.”
“Marigold is asking what the plan is,” Thistle said, when nobody answered him.
“Umm…” Marcy had panicked and frantically run around collecting all the creatures to make sure none of them went missing–Auburn’s mother could conceivably be a threat to any of them, except maybe Severa. She hadn’t thought far enough ahead to what they’d do after that. “I guess… we’ll all just stay together in case she comes back?”
“What!” Violet said, tail sticking up. “You want me to stay outside the walls? How long? An hour? Two?”
“I mean…I don’t know? It’s for safety. We don’t know when she’s going to come back.”
“I’m sorry,” Auburn wept. “I’m sorry.”
“All right, it’s okay, Auburn,” Marcy soothed. “You didn’t do it on purpose.”
“It’s not okay,” Thistle snapped. Though in English, so Auburn didn’t know what he was saying. “He led a predator to us. That’s not okay.”
Marcy gathered Thistle up in her hands. “Sweetheart, I’m here to protect you all. She can’t pose a threat to me, surely?”
Thistle crossed his arms and sat down, pouting. “I guess.”
“I’m just trying to say we don’t have to always follow that rule. There’s a gray area.”
Thistle picked at the hem of his shirt. Marcy was right, of course. Hell, Thistle had broken the “don’t lead predators back home” rule himself, when that damnable human from the internet had come to stalk him, and that had turned out okay. But it still felt…. Bad. Like a betrayal. Like Auburn didn’t care enough.
This in spite of the fact that Auburn wouldn’t stop hysterically apologizing, clearly devastated and terrified at the danger he’d caused. And that he was visibly afraid of his own mother, something which twisted Thistle’s heart and made his feelings even more complicated.
Thistle opened his little wooden house up for everyone to stay in as an emergency shelter, although Violet and Petunia opted to go into Severa’s house instead. Marcy scooted the houses close together and kept them on the dining room table, next to Jewel’s fishtank, standing guard.
Auburn hung from the pull-up bar, heavy bags under his eyes, unable to sleep. “I’m sorry, Marcy. I didn’t mean to upset Thistle. Thank you for not kicking me out.”
Marcy gave him a sad smile. “Of course. Hey, do you want to be held?” She held out her hand. “It’s okay to say no, but some people like it.”
Auburn detached himself from where he was roosting and swooped down into Marcy’s hand, hugging himself to it. He felt warm and fuzzy, and Marcy could feel his erratic little heartbeat.
“Thistle knows you didn’t do it on purpose. He just has a lot of anxiety about predators.”
Auburn turned his head down into Marcy’s palm, and she felt small tears wetting her skin. She reached out with a finger and gently rubbed his fuzzy little head, between his ears. He leaned into it.
“This is such a dreadful atmosphere.” It was Moon, leaning against the doorframe of Thistle’s wooden house. “You’d think we were all taking shelter from a bomb, rather than a single vampire we’ve already scared off.”
Marcy put Auburn down in her lap. “We don’t know when she’s going to come back. I just–I don’t want anything to happen to any of you.”
“Pssh.” Moon strolled along the table, swinging his cane in a loop. “But do we have to spend our time waiting huddled in fear?”
“I guess not,” Marcy admitted. “What do you want to do? Watch TV?”
Moon scoffed. “TV. Is that all you humans are good for? Come now, your kind has survived without TV for millenia. We have better things to do, surely.”
“You watch TV too,” Thistle’s voice said from inside his wooden house, and Thistle crawled forward, still under his blanket. “You like that TV show we were watching about vampires.”
Moon used his cane to pull Thistle’s hair in front of his face, obscuring his vision, and Thistle frowned. “Not when we have such a conglomeration of interesting creatures,” Moon announced. “I’m sure we can think of something more… physical.”
“Moon!” Thistle chided.
“I’m merely talking about dancing, Thistle. When was the last time you were in a group of people who were all dancing, hm?”
Thistle rose to his knees, pushing his hair out of his face. “Not since I was with my family, I guess.”
“Well, come on then!” Moon began running his hands in a circular motion in the air, and Thistle watched in amazement as smoke wafted from his fingers and started to solidify in the air. It writhed and curled into a rough oval, at which point Moon started drawing his fingers in a straight line up and down the top. It wasn’t until the strings appeared under his pointer finger that Thistle realized that he was pulling a stringed instrument out of thin air.
Moon always had another surprise up his sleeve, didn’t he?
“Whaaaaaaat?” Marcy said. “Moon, you can do that?”
“Only with a lyre, sweetheart,” Moon said. “It’s my instrument of choice.” He grabbed the lyre by its side and yanked it out of the cloud of smoke, which swirled around him. Its physical form kept a shimmering, quasi-ethereal visage about it, and the strings twanged with a strange, otherworldly echo under his fingers. “What sort of siren would I be if I couldn’t lure people in?”
The others had started to poke their heads out the window to watch him.
“Come on! Come on!” Moon grabbed Thistle by the hand and spun him around, bouncing and encouraging him to follow along as he strummed the strings.
Petunia dashed out of Severa’s house, cartwheeling around and screaming in glee. Moon put on a grimacing smile at the noise. “Now, Petunia, have you ever tried singing?”
“No!” she yelled. “Show me, show me!”
Violet crept out to follow Petunia as Moon started signing up and down a solfège with impressive vocal range. That was all the cue Jax needed to sprint out with both their bodies and start dancing. The pixie body grabbed Thistle, while the borrower body grabbed Violet, who looked unhappy about that. “Whazzat?”
“Jax has got the spirit!” Moon sung out. “Come on, everyone!”
What Jax’s dancing lacked in skill it made up for in enthusiasm. Pixie-Jax moved with a sort of side-to-side motion while holding both of Thistle’s hands, while Borrower-Jax mostly tugged on Violet to try and get her to move with any semblance of happiness.
Auburn peered at Moon with watery eyes, and Moon waved him over. Auburn’s face split into an expression of delight and he hopped over.
Moon let go of the lyre, and it simply hovered in the air, continuing to play itself, maintaining the same beat that Moon was still singing to. Moon took both of Auburn’s hands and started some sort of boogie that involved a lot of steps, which Auburn admirably tried to copy.
Severa slithered out, bodying Borrower-Jax out of the way to take Violet’s hand instead. Violet suddenly found some enthusiasm for dancing, then, twirling around Severa, who was mostly limited to serpentine waves for motions.
Marcy giggled with delight and put her hand down on the table, two fingers down like legs walking around. Thistle and Jax came over and circled around it, treating it like a third dancer.
Borrower-Jax had stacked on top of Pixie-Jax’s shoulders, and Moon passed Auburn off to Severa to treat their stack as a single dancer, swaying around them.
Thistle noticed Marigold sitting quietly off to the side and suddenly felt very bad. He dashed over and crouched down. “Marigold, do you want to dance?”
Marigold looked down at his feet. “I’m not sure.”
“Did the vet say it was OK to start doing that kind of stuff?”
He nodded unsurely. “She said I can do light physical activity if I’m careful, but she said my muscles are probably… atrophied. From not being able to use them.”
“Do you want to try? If it’s too hard, you can stop. I’ll hold your hand.”
Marigold looked to everyone else up and about, then nodded.
Thistle took his hands and helped him stand up, and Marigold hobbled over to the center of the dance floor. Moon twirled Jax to get them out of the way, then fluttered around like Marigold were a noteworthy celebrity. “There he is, everyone! Make way, make way!” He repeated the announcement in Pixish, at which point Marigold giggled.
Ah, there it was. Thistle had missed his brother’s smile.
Marigold was slow and unsure on his feet. Thistle had to catch him several times to make sure he didn’t fall, and he occasionally grimaced as he hit some point of pain. Thistle went slow, never letting go of him, overjoyed to be here in this moment, resolving to never take anything for granted ever again.
“Let’s pick up the pace now!” Moon swung back over to the lyre and danced his fingers across the strings, getting the music up to a faster tempo, then started clapping. A few of them got the idea and started clapping along.
“Jewel!” Thistle shouted with glee. “Jewel, come on!”
Jewel had been watching them all with his elbows propped up on the rim of the fish tank. “I’m good,” he said.
“Jewel!” Thistle pleaded desperately. “Jewel! Jewel!”
Jewel rolled his eyes and sank down into the tank. At first Thistle was disappointed, before he realized it was to give himself some room to gain speed and pump his tail. He breached the surface of the water and soared in an impressive arc across the entire length of the fishtank, doing a few twirls along the way.
The creatures on the table all cheered, almost drowned out by Marcy’s clapping.
“Now we’re doing it!” Moon shouted over the mounting noise. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”
He tripped on his bad foot and fell forward, landing flat on his face.
Thistle gasped and rushed over. “Are you okay?”
Moon laughed and used his cane to push himself up to his knees. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop, everyone! Keep going!”
Thistle held his hand out to help Moon up. Moon instead used it to pull him down, and Thistle face-planted into his chest fluff. It was nothing they hadn’t done before, but Thistle still blushed all the same.
Moon hopped up, tossing Thistle into the air. Thistle buzzed his wings, giggling, and Moon swung him around when he came back down and tossed him at Auburn. Auburn’s eyebrows shot up and he rushed over to catch Thistle, who continued giggling over the music and singing and clapping and laughing and the swelling of love and magic in the air.
Catching on to the game, Auburn tossed Thistle over to Severa, who simply manhandled him to spin him back around and lobbed him at Moon.
Moon caught him and spun, Thistle’s streak of black hair streaming behind him. Moon was laughing, too, bigger and happier than Thistle had ever heard before. Thistle put his hands on his shoulders, manic with the energy of the gathering.
They hadn’t kissed much since Thistle found out what Moon was. They’d been doing mostly just platonic cuddling and sleeping in the same bed sometimes. That suited Thistle just fine, and Moon seemed content to accept whatever attention Thistle would give him, resolved to start living differently without complaint.
But here now, in his arms, with how much ambient excitement there was, the music, it felt different. Different than the circumstances of their other kisses, certainly.
Their flushed faces were millimeters apart, staring at each other wide-eyed.
Thistle leaned in and kissed him.
Moon dipped him down, leaning into it. Everyone cheered and went wild, including Marcy, clapping and cheering.
Flustered, flushed, and overwhelmed, Thistle blushed fiercely and opened his eyes again. Moon set him upright, and they stared wide-eyed at each other for a moment.
“Was that okay?” Moon said, suddenly sounding unsure.
“Yeah,” Thistle rushed to clarify. “Yeah. That was. Wow.”
Moon’s face morphed into a wolfish grin. “Well, now you’ve had your first real kiss.”
Thistle went red and hid his face.
Jax, ever eager to copy whatever was going on, came over to try and kiss Moon as well. “Ah,” Moon said awkwardly. “Maybe later, okay?”
Thistle bashfully hid his face in Moon’s chest. Moon chuckled and petted his hair. “Well, how was it?”
“Good,” Thistle squeaked.
“Good. How about we coerce Marcy into bringing some snacks over, hm? Wouldn’t be a real party without them.”
The string of lights on the porch, which had been glowing lime green this whole time, suddenly changed to bright, dangerous red.
The mood shifted immediately. Marcy scooped Jax up and tossed both his bodies into Thistle’s house. “Everyone inside! Inside! I’ll handle this!”
Severa snatched Violet and Petunia up in the blink of an eye and disappeared into her house. Thistle rushed over to help Marigold get back in, and Moon spread his wings over them to shield them as they moved in. Jewel flipped the lid of the tank shut and huddled down in his anemone.
Auburn stayed on the table, ears flat against his head. “Marcy, I want to help.”
Well, Marcy could probably use the help of a friendly Pixish-speaker. Her language skills were still a bit rough–although they were definitely getting better now that her full-time job was to stay home and interact with Thistle. “Okay,” she said, nodding.
Auburn flapped up onto the leg of the couch. “I froze up earlier. I freeze when she yells at me.”
“If you need support, you can jump into my hand again.”
Auburn jumped into the hand immediately after she said that, hugging her thumb.
The bat showed up a few minutes later–evidently she had been scouting in the kitchen, because she came from that direction. She squeaked and crawled across the ceiling.
“We don’t have to fight,” Marcy said. “We can just talk.”
Dusk shifted and dropped down, alighting on a lamp. “Auburn,” she hissed. “Auburn. I know I taught you better than to let yourself be seen by giants.”
“You’re also being seen by giants,” Auburn offered.
She twitched her ears. “Only because you’ve already–Auburn, we have to move the whole colony now! You know that!”
“Then move it and leave us alone!” Auburn clung to Marcy, as if scared by his own outburst.
“You are such a brat.” Dusk swooped down and stood on the desk, gradually getting closer. “You are always such a disappointment. You even abandoned your family.”
“You stopped feeding me!” Auburn protested tearfully. “I had to!”
“Just because prey became scarce, and we were all suffering, and you-”
“Mama, I was so hungry! All the time!”
“You are supposed to accept what you are given and be happy with that! Not–whatever this is!”
A final swoop brought Dusk on top of one of the wooden houses on the coffee table. Marcy’s eyebrows raised, unsure of if she should intervene just yet. As a rule, she wanted the magical creatures to work things out amongst themselves unless they truly needed her help, especially after what happened with Moon–and maybe Auburn deserved the chance to resolve this with her support, rather than her butting in on his behalf.
The point turned out to be moot, though. Because Dusk had happened to land on Severa’s house. Her yellow eyes and scaly head peeked out over the top of the wooden house, behind Dusk’s ankles.
“If you won’t bring them home then I’ll just take them,” Dusk snarled.
“I can’t even begin to describe how much that is not happening.”
Dusk whirled around to look at Severa with wide eyes as the naga hauled herself up onto the roof.
“Gods below, what on earth is that thing?” Dusk said.
“That’s a naga,” Auburn said. “She’s nice.”
“I’m considerably less nice to predators threatening my friends.”
Dusk’s face gradually took on more and more alarm as more and more of Severa’s length emerged from where she’d been hiding. “Well–Well, whatever. I don’t need you to be nice to me.”
“Mama, please,” Auburn said tearfully. “I love you. But I can’t save you if you keep acting like this.”
“Your audacity, son,” Dusk said. “Can’t you ever shut up? It’s always something with you.”
Severa’s mouth split in a frightening hiss. “You are the audacious one. You treat children as disposable things for you to budget and invest in.”
She lunged, and Dusk took to the air to get away from her claw. “You fool!” Severa shouted. “You ingrate! You squander what you have!”
“What’s your problem?” Dusk said.
Severa crouched down and rubbed her hand on the ground rapidly–the motions she’d adapted her anti-gravity magic to use one-handed. “You miserable bitch.”
Her hair floated as gravity released her, and she coiled and sprung up, lunging at Dusk. The vampire dodged out of the way easily and then laughed.
“If you want to fight, then let’s,” Dusk said. “By all means.”
Severa landed back on the ground, glaring at Dusk.
“You’re mine, thrall.” It was the same magic-laden voice she’d tried on Moon earlier. Except Severa, unlike Moon, had no experience with hypnosis magic. She stopped in her tracks, eyes wide and faraway.
Dusk looked smug. “You see? Even with-”
Just as Marcy was starting to once again get ready to intervene, Auburn shifted and threw himself at Dusk, crying and screaming. The two tangled in the air, chittering and scratching each other with their claws.
Severa shook off the spell she’d been placed under, and oh boy was she steaming mad now. She repeated her own spell and launched into the air again. Dusk, this time weighed down by her son valiantly attacking her, couldn’t get out of the way in time and Severa’s heavy body hit her like a train.
All three of them hit the ground. Severa took a second to yank Auburn out of her coils and toss him away before slamming her coils shut around Dusk’s body, squeezing all the air out of her before she could issue another command to enthrall anyone.
“You will not disturb the peace of this place,” Severa said, sides heaving with enraged hisses. “What you are going to do is go back to your colony and tell them to steer well clear of this place.” Her coils writhed, and Dusk let out a squeak as her bones creaked, threatening to break. “Because if I see you again, or any of your kin, at this place, I will crush your lungs and break your jaw before you can dare to presume to control me with your magic again. Understand?”
Dusk nodded vigorously, eyes bulging.
“You do not have a son anymore. You will forget about him, and you will go back to your colony and tell them to move and to not hunt here anymore.”
Dusk nodded again, straining to breathe.
“Go. You have thirty seconds to clear our nest.”
She loosened her grip, and Dusk coughed and staggered away, shifting back into a bat and taking off, disappearing into the ceiling with one last curse muttered under her breath.
Auburn lay collapsed on the floor, dazed and bleeding but not seriously hurt. Marcy crouched down and cupped her hands around him. “Hey, you did great.”
Auburn hugged her hand. The rest of the critters started poking their heads out of the shelters.
Still breathing heavily, Severa slithered over to Auburn. “Marcy is right. No one should ever have to talk to their mother that way.”
Auburn’s ears drooped. “Thank you for–Well, thank you.” A pause. “When you said… she doesn’t have a son anymore…?”
Severa looked him up and down, then shrugged and gestured to the house. “Free son.”
Auburn went red, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand.
Thistle walked over, petting Auburn’s shoulder. “She’s right. I’m sorry your family treats you that way. I can’t even imagine if my mother treated me like that.” His heart hurt thinking about his own Mother–about how he’d left, if he’d actually needed to leave to keep them safe, if Mother would have accepted him back… No, best not to go down that rabbit hole again.
Auburn was happy. He had a family that cared about him, and so did Thistle. “We’re your family now, and we protect each other.”
***
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Tinytopia Chapter 7: Endless Rebirth (Part 3)
Story Masterpost
On AO3
Thanks to my beta/sensitivity reader @appelsiinilight!
In this chapter: Jax’s true nature is further illuminated, which causes even more friction with Moon.
***
Everything was quiet out in the park.
Until a hand shot up from under the ground, followed by a second, the frantic swimming motions of someone trying to dig themselves out. Eventually a head came up too, gasping in its first breaths.
A body came next, hauling itself and laying out limply in the dirt. Wings flickered. The creature coughed up some sort of mucousy liquid, emptying its lungs.
It then wobbled to its feet and started running, as though it already knew exactly where it was going, bare feet thumping in the dirt.
And it was still quiet in the park, because the creature was a pixie and, at that size, could barely make any noise at all.
***
“Psst. Thistle. Hey, Thistle.”
“Mhhmm?” Thistle pushed himself up off of Moon’s chest fluff and rubbed his eyes.
There was a pixie leaning directly into him, their face millimeters apart. At first he thought it was Marigold, but…
“Ah!” Thistle yelped, scrambling backwards. “What–Who–Who are you?”
The new pixie looked remarkably similar to Thistle himself, except for the fact that he was covered in dirt and wearing nothing but a mishmash of leaves for clothes. He tilted his head, sending a cascade of shiny black hair over his shoulder. “Hey, good morning!” He spoke Pixish with a lilted accent like Thistle’s own–but unpracticed, as though somehow also not a native speaker.
Marcy, awakened by Thistle’s shout, sleepily struggled to disentangle herself from her sheets. “Thistle, I’m coming! I’m–oh.” Her movements became less frantic as she realized Thistle was not in danger. She heaved herself out of bed and came over, sitting at the desk chair.
“Good morning!” the new pixie said.
“Good morning,” Marcy said. “It’s so nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“How did you get in here?” Moon was considerably less excited, hair uncharacteristically frumpled.
From the desk leg there came grunts of exertion and the sound of tiny claws scratching. It was Jax, putting to use his newly acquired climbing skills. “I let him in,” Jax said, finally reaching the top and pulling himself over.
“Uhhhhhhh. Okay,” Thistle said. “Do you two know each other?”
Jax gave a knowing grin, then scurried up and leapt onto the new pixie’s shoulders, the two moving in perfect sync. “So, so I need to admit something,” Jax said.
“You know how I said I could grow a new body?” the new pixie said.
“Well the first one doesn't actually need to die,” Jax said.
They both flourished in perfect unison, as in-sync as the sentence had been–half in Pixish, half in the accented English of a borrower, but not missing a beat as it switched between the two.
“Uhhhhh…” Thistle said, completely unsure what to make of that. “Okay? So you're…both Jax?”
“Yea!” they both said, again in perfect unison. Thistle wished they'd stop doing that. It was kind of creepy.
Marcy’s gaze was alight with curiosity. “Are you a hive mind of some kind?” Keep your questions in, keep them in, don’t overwhelm them, you always overwhelm everyone with questions. She felt like she was going to explode.
Thistle knew that the English word–and the human concept–of a hive was a bit different from the way pixies used the word. And a hive mind was something else altogether. He'd read about it on Wikipedia. “Like–Like a group of people who all share the same thoughts and feelings?”
“Um, if that’s the word to describe it, then yeah, I guess!” Borrower-Jax said, and Pixie-Jax held up a peace sign like they’d seen Thistle do on occasion. “I couldn’t very well call myself that when I only had one body, but now I got two! I’m just a baby one!”
It made sense, in a way. If a hive mind grew by adding new bodies, then its age would be measured by the number of people in it, not the usual developmental milestones. It explained perfectly why Jax was so young, yet had the body of an adult borrower.
And now apparently had the body of an adult pixie as well.
Oh, this was… something. This was something completely alien. Thistle had thought meeting humans and incubi and naga and dryads was an adventure, but this was completely unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Anyone he’d ever met.
Moon apparently had the same train of thought. But he looked wary rather than excited. “And what exactly is all that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not going to try and assimilate anyone, are you?” Thistle rushed to add.
Both Jaxes blinked.
“Into your hive mind,” Thistle clarified. “Assimilate someone into your hive mind. Like, make them part of you.”
“How on earth would I do that?” they both said.
“Well, I don't know. I don't know how hive minds work.”
“Thistle is just concerned about everyone's safety,” Marcy explained. “We think of hive minds as something people are forced to join.”
“Join me for what? Dinner? An adventure? I wouldn't force anyone to do anything, honest!” The sentence ping-ponged back and forth between the two bodies. Two mouths, two voices, two different languages, one mind, one fluid train of thought. The pixie’s voice was significantly higher in pitch than the borrower’s. It was…disorienting.
Marcy hesitated. “The pixie… where did it come from? You didn't like…. take someone, did you?”
“Take someone?”
“Like kidnap someone. Hijack their body. It's just you? This body?”
“Oh, I grew it,” Pixie-Jax said. “It's me 100%. There’s nobody else in here.”
“O-oh okay. That's cool,” Thistle said, equally overwhelmed and excited. “How does it, like….work? How did you become a pixie too?”
“I copied you!”
Thistle fluttered his wings. Jax could just…become a pixie? For the purpose of being friends with Thistle? “That’s so cool! So you just–modeled off of me? And grew a second body?”
“Yeah!”
“It’s so cool that you can do that. Oh, you know what that means! I have to teach you how to be a pixie the way Violet was teaching you how to be a borrower!”
Pixie-Jax hopped up and down and clapped his hands. “Yeah!”
Moon watched with obvious distaste as the two pixies got each other more and more excited. He hooked a hand around Thistle’s arm. “Thistle, can I talk to you over here for a second?”
He dragged him to the corner of the desk. Jax watched them go, then shrugged and turned his attention back to Marcy.
“You can’t seriously intend to have Jax stay here without knowing more about him,” Moon said in a harsh whisper.
Not this again. Jealousy really did not suit Moon. “Well, I let you in without knowing anything about you.”
Moon went red. “But that–that’s different!”
“How is it different?”
Moon pawed at the ground with his foot. “I don’t know. But you didn’t even ask Jax any more questions! I’m just…concerned for your safety, is all.”
Are you? Is that really the problem here, Moon?
“I’m just saying it might be prudent to figure out more about what kind of creature this is before throwing ourselves at it wholeheartedly. I’ve never seen anything like this, and neither have you. Jax is something completely foreign to everyone here.”
Thistle turned to look back at Jax. The borrower and the pixie were swinging playfully from Marcy’s fingers in perfect unison.
“...Okay,” Thistle relented. That was a good point. Maybe Thistle was letting himself get too swept up in the excitement of meeting such a strange and interesting creature, and having more pixies to play with. It’d been lessening with Marigold here, but he was always letting his loneliness overcome his good sense.
Ooh, what was Marigold going to think of this? He got giddy at the idea of sharing this, then forced himself back on track. Best to wait to introduce Marigold to anyone else and just focus on Jax for now.
“Okay, Jax,” Thistle said, spinning back around. “Um, I want to ask you a few more questions if that’s okay.”
Pixie-Jax let go of Marcy’s hand and landed on the desk, and Borrower-Jax plopped down onto his shoulders. “Sure,” they both said.
“So, um…” What to even ask? Moon was right. Thistle didn’t know the first thing about whatever kind of creature Jax was. “I guess… How did you just grow a second body? Did you…just emerge fully formed from the ground again? Where do you come from?” This was the question Jax hadn’t wanted to answer earlier.
Pixie-Jax nervously wrung his hands. Borrower-Jax drooped his ears. Oh no, Thistle thought, heart sinking. Maybe he IS hiding something. Maybe Moon is right to be suspicious.
“Why don’t you want to tell us?” Moon demanded. “What are you hiding?”
“I’m sorry!” Borrower-Jax cried, slapping his hands over his face.
“I’m scared,” Pixie-Jax said, buzzing his wings. “I’m scared of getting found out.”
“Found out what?” Moon pressed.
“All right, calm down,” Marcy said, gently scooting Moon back from Jax a little bit. “You’re getting a bit intense.”
Moon looked at her venomously.
“It’s okay,” Thistle coaxed. “We just want to know about you, that’s all. We won’t hurt you.”
Both Jaxes refused to make eye contact. “There’s part of me that’s underground. It’s rooted in the soil, and it’s where I make new… me’s. But I think if anyone ever found it and dug it up, they could really hurt me, or even kill me for real. That’s why I’m scared to talk about it.”
Marcy’s eyes sparkled. Thistle could tell she was valiantly restraining herself from asking a million and a half questions.
“Okay,” Thistle said. “So that’s, um, like the ‘real’ you, and you just kind of…spawn bodies out of it by copying people you run into?”
Jax nodded. “That’s why I just–you can’t tell anyone, please! It’s so scary.”
“We won’t,” Thistle reassured.
“That really is cool,” Marcy breathed.
"It’s hardly original, though,” Moon muttered. “Lots of us can copy other people. It’s nothing special.”
“But it’s more than just copying, isn’t it?” Thistle said. “You actually, like… incarnate as that species. It’s permanent. And unlike Moon, you don’t just copy the appearance, but the abilities too. So you’re just, um, like one person made up of multiple bodies of different species?”
“That’s so cool,” Marcy said. “You’d be able to adapt to any lifestyle perfectly.”
Jax beamed. “Yeah! Thistle, will you show me how to be a pixie? Please?”
“Yeah! Let’s go!”
Moon watched with suspicion as Thistle grabbed Pixie-Jax’s hand and ran off.
***
“So, every creature has some way of getting the magic that they need to live. Most of us make it like a plant using photosynthesis. Some of us are predators and steal it. But everyone needs at least a little, like they need food. Except humans, I guess, but they don’t use magic.”
Thistle looked at Marcy, who was sitting on the couch hanging over the armrest to watch Thistle and Jax with fascination as they interacted in Thistle’s castle on the floor.
“I think,” he amended.
Pixie-Jax nodded. “Right. My borrower body was generating its own magic as I was collecting items and learning from Violet. Just like she said. Borrowers collect things.”
“Yeah, and pixies get it from forming social bonds.” Thistle hadn’t made a close enough connection with Jax to make that happen yet, but he could feel them getting close. This could push them over the edge. “It makes magic for the people on both ends, too, so that’s why Severa doesn’t need to hunt.”
Jax buzzed his wings and his ears twitched. He clearly hadn’t learned how to moderate the finer points of his body’s nonverbal communication, so every emotion was splashed all across his face and body for everyone to see. “I, I see. So, so how does Moon make it?”
Moon appeared on the back of the couch, face sour. “By basking in moonlight,” he said. “It’s quite simple and efficient, probably even moreso than-”
“He can also just steal it,” Thistle said dismissively. “But he doesn’t do that anymore. But let’s focus on pixies for now, kay?” He took Jax’s hands. “We’re gonna be friends!”
Moon dipped out of sight behind the couch, and Thistle heard the disturbing yet telltale sign of Moon transforming: bones snapped, skin ripped, hair grew. He reappeared a moment later, crunched down into the form of a pixie. God it was weird. He had the same face and everything, but now he was the same height as Thistle and his features were all cloaked under the visage of a pixie.
“I would also like to be friends!” Moon offered, hands extended. “Let me join!”
Thistle eyed him warily. “Come on, Moon, we’re already friends. You and I make plenty of magic together.”
“Then let me help show Jax how it’s done!”
Jax bounced with excitement, hands still in Thistle’s. “Let’s! Let’s!”
Thistle sighed. “Fine.” He extended his hand and Moon joined them, making a trio of hand-holding.
“Now what do we do?” Jax asked, wide-eyed.
“Well, normally we do some sort of activity together,” Thistle said. “But it can come at any time. Just anything that makes a connection between us.”
“We could ask each other twenty questions,” Moon said. “I’ll go first. Jax, how did you copy a borrower if you claim you’ve never met one?”
Thistle was thrown off, because–he hadn’t made that connection. Moon had a very good point. But he’d said it in such an accusatory way, it was obviously motivated by spite. Moon had definitely saved that question to ask it at a disruptive time. “Moon,” he scolded under his breath.
“What? We were all wondering it,” Moon said coolly.
Jax didn’t seem to notice the hostility. “Um, I’m not really sure. That was my first body, I think, so, so, however my species does that. When we’re born, I guess? I don't remember. You don’t remember how you were born, do you?”
“I do,” Moon said. “I remember everything about how I was born, from the moment I left the womb.” That couldn’t be true, surely.
“Then I’ll ask question nineteen! Um, Moon, how were you born?”
“The moon herself gave birth to me, setting me as a swaddled babe gently into the lushest, most luxurious garden she could find, where I grew up eating ripe fruit and succulent berries in paradise until I decided to grace the mortal plane with my presence.”
Jax looked completely enraptured. Thistle twitched his ear. “Moon, come on.”
“Now you ask a question, Thistle!” Jax said cheerfully.
“Um, okay,” Thistle said. “Moon, why are you allergic to being straightforward?”
Moon furrowed his brow. Jax waited for the answer expectantly.
“Growing up eating moonberries gave me terrible allergies,” Moon answered. “If you’re not exposed to allergens in childhood, you develop a horribly sensitive nose as an adult. My turn again. Jax, what is it you want from us?”
“From us?”
“Here, at the house.”
“Moon,” Thistle said in a strained whisper. “Come on.”
Jax did not seem bothered, though. If anything, he got more excited. “I’d love to make friends with everyone in the house!”
Thistle found his youthful enthusiasm adorable, and–ah, yep that was enough to push them over the edge. A flare of magic flickered between Thistle and Jax.
“Ooh!” Jax said. “I think that was it! That was it, right? We did it!”
“Yeah!” Thistle said. “You’re a natural at it!”
Moon’s very stoic face was scrunched up in an expression that suggested he was trying not to cry. There was very pointedly not a connection between Jax and Moon, or even between Thistle and Moon.
“What’s wrong?” Jax said. “Are you okay?”
“Well, good for you!” Moon snapped, throwing Jax’s hand away from himself. “I’m glad it comes so easily to you! It must be nice to be able to be so stupid and trusting and have people fall over themselves to take care of you!”
Moon stormed off, yanking the pixie disguise off, which fell off and dissolved into smoke.
“Did I do something wrong?” Jax said. “Is he mad at me?”
“Stay there,” Thistle said. “I’ll be right back.”
He followed to find Moon standing in Mochi’s cat bed. He’d pressed his face into her side, like he was screaming into a pillow.
Thistle walked up and pulled his shirt sleeve. “Come on, Moon, don’t get mad at Jax. It’s not his fault.”
Moon pulled his head out of Mochi’s fur. True to his statement about allergies, his eyes were watery and he sneezed. “No, of course not, nothing could ever be the fault of poor innocent Jaxy!” Moon slapped Thistle’s hand away. “Why are you so excited about him?”
Thistle’s ears went down as he scowled. “Moon, come on. Don’t be like this.”
“I’d love to, if-”
“Moon, stop being jealous!”
Moon looked offended, hand on his chest. “Jealous? I am not jealous! I’m merely-”
He stopped. Thistle stared at him.
“You were supposed to cut me off before I could offer my explanation.”
“...what?”
“There’s no end to the sentence I’m merely-! I was counting on you to get mad at me and cut me off so I didn’t have to finish it!”
“Moon, can you please just be normal?” Thistle exploded. “Why are you like this?”
Moon drew back, his expression turning from exaggerated offense to genuine hurt. “I-I-”
Oh, no. No, no. Thistle had… definitely gone too far with that. “I’m sorry,” he rushed to add. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Go play with Jax, then, if you want to play house and be normal,” Moon snarled. He dashed up the stairs and out of sight.
***
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Tinytopia Chapter 6: Endless Rebirth (Part 2)
Story Masterpost
On AO3
Thanks to my beta/sensitivity reader @appelsiinilight!
In this chapter: Thistle is eager to accept the new member of the household, oblivious to a burgeoning grudge his arrival is causing.
***
Jax seemed to lack most of the fear that other small creatures had about being around humans. He consented to being carried somewhere more private to talk without much apparent internal conflict.
Marcy very gently scooped him up in her hands and carried him inside, upstairs. Thistle slid down into her hand beside him. “Hi,” he said, grinning.
“Hi,” Jax said bashfully.
Moon followed them, but none of them noticed. Marcy shut the bedroom door behind her without spotting him. He frowned and leaned against the banister. He had to wait outside the door the same way Mochi would stand outside a room she wasn't allowed in and dramatically cry and wail and roll around about wanting to be inside. No… Better save his dignity and wait than knocking and begging to be included.
Marcy let Jax and Thistle off on her desk. Jax seated himself on top of a Kleenex box, paws swinging idly. Marcy took the seat. “So, uh…”
“Uh,” Jax echoed.
“So what are you?”
“Yeahhhhhh,” Jax said. “I don’t really… dunno how to describe it?”
Thistle and Marcy waited for more elaboration that didn’t come.
“Like, what are you?” Jax said, gesturing to Marcy.
“I’m a human,” Marcy answered.
“Well, yeah, but like, what is a human?”
“...It’s a species of social, bipedal mammal.”
Jax flicked his ears. “Yeah, but that don’t mean anything to me. What’s any of that mean?”
Marcy’s excitement started to fade a little. “Okay…Do you not have the…words to describe what you are?”
Jax scratched his head. “I guess?”
“How about this, then?” Thistle interjected. “How did you come back to life?”
“Oh,” Jax says. “That. Well, I mean, I wasn’t really dead. Per-say.”
Thistle and Marcy looked at each other.
“But we saw you die,” Marcy said.
“Oh, yeah, that piece of me died. But just cuz you, like, lose a finger doesn’t mean you’re dead, right?”
Thistle and Marcy looked at each other with increasing bafflement.
“Is there… more of you?” Thistle ventured.
Jax bristled. “Yes! But, but don't ask about that!”
That was suspicious. That's suspicious, right? Or was he just scared? “Um…” Thistle said. “Is it something bad?”
Jax hid his face in his hands. “No… It’s just. I don’t want you to know. Because you could walk out and find me, and that’s scary. S'supposed to be secret.”
“Uhhh.” Thistle had no idea what he was talking about, but he certainly understood being scared and wanting to keep parts of himself secret. “Okay, I guess. As long as it's not something bad.”
Marcy eyed Jax with suspicion. He shrank away from her.
“So then what are you here for?” Thistle asked.
Jax's face was still red. “Um. I don't really know. I was just kind of wandering around, and a dryad told me I could come here.”
The mysterious second dryad who'd known exactly where they were somehow. “And not the dryad on our front lawn?” Thistle asked.
“It was a different one,” Jax insisted.
“And she told you to come here specifically?”
“Yeah, she gave me directions to the house and everything. Even said there’s a pickup truck in the driveway.”
“...Huh.” That felt… a bit ominous. They would really have to try and coax Trilloras out sometime to ask some questions. How did she know? Why did she tell Jax to come here?
“Okay,” Marcy pushed gently. “What happened before that, though? Why were you wandering around?”
“I didn't know where to go!”
“But why not? Where were you before that?”
“I dunno!” Jax cried. “I'm sorry!”
“All right, Marcy, slow down on the grilling a bit.”
Marcy sat back. “Sorry…”
Looking frazzled, Jax ducked his head. “‘m sorry. I guess I don't really understand.”
“That's okay,” Thistle soothed. “So let's walk through it. What do you remember from before you were wandering around?”
“Nothing. I've just been…. wandering’ around for a while. There’s nothing before that.”
“Okay, I guess…. Tell us everything you remember. From start to finish. All the way back to when you were a baby with your parents.”
“Parents?”
“...Yes? Parents? You know what those are, right?”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah, I know. I just don’t think I got parents.”
Thistle furrowed his brow, crossed his arms, and let out a very long breath. “...Okay. So then, just. Everything you know about yourself. Everything you remember.”
Jax lashed his tail. “Hm… I’m young, but I don’t know how I was born. I remember…growing. And I know about borrowers. But I also don’t think I’ve… ever met a real borrower.”
Thistle reached out and felt his fur. “You…feel like a real borrower.”
“And I make magic by collecting items, like borrowers do. But I can feel that I got a lot more potential than that, too. And I dun’even know how I know any of that! It just kinda…feels like it?”
“And you said you’re young? You look fully grown.” He was definitely closer in height to Violet than Petunia.
He nodded. “I remember…about eight days.”
“...Eight days? You’re eight days old? Or do you just not remember anything from before eight days ago? You couldn’t even learn a language in eight days, let alone grow up!”
“I didn’t learn it, I just sort of…absorbed it.” Jax furrowed his brow and walked across the desk, watching his feet tap on the wooden surface. “That’s what it feels like. I didn’t learn anything. I just…absorbed it, n’then appeared.”
“Okay… and the, um. The ‘rest’ of you–you can tell us whatever about it you feel comfortable, we’re not trying to pressure you or anything, I promise you’re safe…”
Jax stopped, ears twitching. “Right. Um…Well, I do know that when I die, I can just grow a new body.”
“Grow it how?”
Jax flushed and turned away, squirming. “It’s nothing bad! It’s just secret!”
“Okay,” Thistle said. He guessed he could live with that for now. Jax was being astonishingly up-front with them about everything else despite his apparent confusion. That was worth something, right? Thistle couldn’t expect everyone to not keep any secrets when he knew how scary humans could be. He hadn’t made Moon reveal all his secrets right away. “Maybe we can talk more about that later. We just met, after all.”
Marcy curiosity burned. She restrained herself from asking anything else–Thistle knew the appropriate rate to go at, right? She should let him take the lead. Right? She desperately wanted to ask more, but she always asked too many questions at once and overwhelmed everyone.
“So, what do you want to do now?” Thistle asked.
“Um… I don’t really know.” Jax scratched his head. “I… guess I don’t really know what to do? I don’t really know how to be a borrower.”
“Marcy, can we talk downstairs for a bit?” Thistle said. “Jax, we’ll be right back.”
“Oh–oh okay!” Jax said. He sat back down on the kleenex box. “I’ll just, uh, wait right here!”
Marcy took Thistle out of the room. Moon scrambled to his feet and started to say something, but his voice was drowned out by her footsteps down the stairs.
Marcy sat down on the couch in the living room. “Do you trust this guy?” she started.
Thistle tapped his chin. “Not entirely, just because we have no idea what he is. But he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to trick us. Even if he is keeping secrets from us. He’s being honest, it seems like. Just scared to tell us everything.”
Moon’s eyes slowly raised above the arm of the couch.
“Should we let him stay?” Marcy asked.
“What do you think, Marcy?”
“I think you should be the one who gets to decide. You’re kind of… in charge, in a way.”
Thistle’s ears twitched. “Eh?! I guess so.” That seemed like a lot of responsibility, but… she was kind of right.
Moon rested his elbows on the couch. “Our new visitor is certainly interesting,” he purred.
Thistle didn’t look at him, too absorbed in thought. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Marcy, let’s go back upstairs to him, yeah?”
“Okay.” Marcy kept Thistle in her palms and carefully stood from the couch so as not to knock Moon over. She left him sitting unhappily on the armrest downstairs and ferried Thistle back up to her bedroom, where she set him on the desk.
“Okay, Jax,” Thistle said. “You can stay here with us and we’ll take care of you.”
Jax gave a happy little hop. “Yay!”
“If you want to just be a borrower, that’s fine. We can get Violet to teach you how to be one.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great!”
***
Thistle managed to coax Violet out for a lesson. She seemed irritated by it–she’d just gone outside for the funeral after all, and surely asking for two excursions in one week was unreasonable, right?
She came anyway, though. She knew better than to argue.
Petunia came too, because, well, she was also still learning how to be a borrower. And of course, as soon as Severa got wind that Petunia was out of the walls, she showed up, too.
So Thistle sat on Severa’s lap watching Violet talk to Jax and Petunia about the very basics of being a borrower.
“So this is how you’ll wanna to keep warm,” Violet monologued, laying out several heavy jackets. “It can get cold in a bean’s house during the winter, and you have to make them by hand. But in the summer, you can-”
Jax raised his hand. “Wait, how do you make them?”
“By hand,” Petunia helpfully supplied.
“Just make ‘em how your ma and pa taught you to make stuff growing up,” Violet answered.
Thistle butted in. “No, no, Violet, you’re not understanding. We’re going over the very basics because nobody taught him. He didn’t grow up. He…”
Thistle looked over to Jax.
“I emerged fully formed from the ground.”
“...He emerged fully-formed from the ground.”
Violet scratched her head. “That ain’t right.”
A fourth borrower slunk out from behind a nearby wall. Thistle looked at him in shock before he realized who it must be. That handsome face was unmistakable.
“I can also be a borrower but not actually a borrower,” the new borrower said in Moon’s voice.
“Moon, do you want to learn how to be a borrower, too?” Thistle said.
“Yes!”
“All right! Get in line, then!” It felt… weird, to be talking down to Moon. He was barely four inches tall now, hardly higher than Thistle’s chest. He'd seen Moon shapeshift before, but never to something this small. He must have really crushed all his bones and stuff down.
Moon scampered over and sat next to Jax.
“Hi,” Jax said, with all the giggly affectation of a student gossiping in class.
“Hi,” Moon said coolly. “I’m kind of Thistle’s best friend, so if you need anything, you can just let me know.”
Thistle leaned back into Severa’s coils as she braided his hair.
“All right,” Violet said. “Uhhh, I guess I can show you how to make stuff later when I have my sewing supplies. I guess let’s work on…climbing? That’s important to doing your borrowing. Climbing up counters n’at.”
Moon’s voice had been talking softly underneath Violet’s the whole time, and as Violet’s sentence trailed off everyone in the new silence heard the tail end of Moon’s sentence, which was, “We sleep together, you know.”
Thistle grew red. “Moon, what are you doing!”
“I was just telling Jax that you and I sleep together sometimes.”
“Yeah, but, like-” Thistle’s ears pinned back to his head. “Not, like, in a weird way. He’s, uh, he’s soft and he smells nice!”
“You do smell nice!” Jax piped up. “Like nice, earthy soil. Maybe I could also sleep with you sometime!”
“Uh… I guess?” Thistle said, suddenly feeling weird.
Moon hooked an arm around Jax’s shoulder. “That could be arranged,” he purred.
Jax didn’t seem to understand, but he looked happy, beaming.
“Moon, don’t seduce Jax,” Thistle whispered harshly. “He’s eight days old.”
“He’s what?” Moon removed his arm as though burned by hot metal. He nervously regained his composure. “Ah, well you certainly look… mature for your age.”
“I emerged fully formed from the ground!”
“You… emerged fully-formed from the ground.”
Jax nodded.
“That’s nothing,” Moon scoffed. “I was raised as a borrower, you know, and then I emerged fully-formed from a borrower.”
Oh no, Thistle suddenly realized what was happening.
Moon couldn’t stand that there was someone around more interesting than him.
Moon couldn’t stand that Thistle was paying attention to someone other than Moon.
Jax, by contrast, was completely oblivious. He had stars in his eyes, tail wiggling. “That’s awesome!” He reached out to touch Moon’s fur, which Moon allowed.
“Yes,” Moon said, self-satisfied.
Jax’s hand stayed on Moon’s arm, gripping his fur. Moon shifted uncomfortably, then reached down and peeled Jax’s hand off.
“Climbing,” Violet said, annoyed by whatever was going on under her nose, “is mostly about technique. But strength is a key factor, too. Borrowers are naturally very strong. Petunia, show ‘em.”
Petunia walked over and picked up a nearby apple. It was taller and far thicker than her, but she held it up with confidence.
Jax was thrilled by this and rushed over to pick up the banana nearby. He struggled a bit, on account of the sheer size, but he was able to get it mostly off the ground.
“Incredible!” Jax said, like he didn’t know he could do that.
“Hmph,” Moon said. “Watch this!” He walked over to a second apple, this one bigger, and gave it a good heft.
It didn’t budge. He looked around awkwardly and then continued trying to lift, feet scrambling against the countertop.
“Moon, don’t hurt yourself,” Thistle said. “Don’t hurt your back.” He probably could have lifted it at his normal size–but even that was pushing it. Moon was not naturally graced with muscle–he just happened to be a lot bigger than average, and now he’d shrunk himself down. He could copy the appearance of a borrower, but apparently not their actual abilities.
Huffing and puffing, Moon turned and started trying to push the apple instead.
“Lift with yer legs,” Violet advised.
“Damn it all to hell!” Moon shouted. “You’re not actually a borrower, so how come you get to be strong like one?”
Jax’s head sunk into his shoulders. “Er, sorry.”
“Moon!” Thistle scolded, standing. “Don’t yell at Jax! He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Moon gripped his fur and tore, and the borrower costume came off and dissolved into a puff of smoke. His form expanded back out to his full natural height and appearance with a whoosh and the sound of bones popping. “Well, whatever,” he muttered, hopping down and flapping away. “Who needs to climb around anyway?”
Violet watched him go. “He’ll never get any borrowing done at that rate.”
***
***
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