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sebastianswallows · 11 months

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Beautiful memories — Chapter 2

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (aged up)

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child, and is filled with anger and jealousy and confusion. He just doesn't know the child is his yet.

— WARNINGS: angst, then a lot of fluff

— WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

— A/N: Here's part 2 of the fic requested by my dear @pugsnotdrugs92 💕 I expect the next chapter will be the last (and it will be the one with the smutt). Enjoy, my dears! 😘

— TAGGING: @rbdiggory @sammysgirl1997

The house she rented was near London, on the outer edges. Looking out the window, Sebastian could see empty dirt fields all around, land prepared for more construction, and to the side toward the south plumes of chimney smoke coming from the city. The grey skies were turning red with sunset.

A couple of lamps turned on behind him in the room, he could see their glow reflected in the window. Cutting through them, a shadow approached. She hugged him from behind.

“I must’ve told you a hundred times today,” she said with her cheek pressed against his back, “but I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said.

It was true. He’d missed her every day, and every memory of her the Dementors pulled out was like a splinter chipped off of his heart. But since learning of her… situation, he no longer knew what he felt. Was it hatred? Was it rage? Was there even a feeling left inside of him for her, or was the hatred and the rage all for himself?

“Come on,” she said with a calm and loving voice, blissfully ignorant of the storm raging inside him, “let’s give you a little wash.”

She had him sit on the sofa in front of the lit fireplace, and one by one the space before him filled with bowls of water pitchers and little mounds of towels. He wasn’t sure how he looked anymore, he’d only caught the faintest reflection of himself in the window, but he imagined it wasn’t good. His hair felt matted, his skin crusted with dirt, and he didn’t even want to look at all the bruises anymore…

After she placed everything she needed, she brought him chocolate to eat, and on the table next to him she placed a steaming cup of hot cocoa. Sebastian smiled as he picked up a little chocolate square and let melt on his tongue. He remembered reading about this remedy against Dementors in his third year. How long ago that was…

While he ate the sweets, she tended to him. She took his jacket off, his boots, his tie and vest and shirt, and limb by limb she scraped the dirt away, while his feet rested in warm salt water. She had the nerve to blush when she cleaned down his chest, her hands moving slow and enticing. When she reached his thighs, she worked down each one with both hands, sneaking glances up at him through her long lashes.

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat, but he no longer had it in him to be aroused at the sight. At least, not yet. The picture of her at his feet, his naked skin beneath her hands — bruised and bony as he was — was soiled by the thought of what Ominis would think if he saw this…

The next hour was spent cleaning the wounds on his wrists and ankles, applying salves wherever she found the smallest scrape or bruise, and then washing his hair. She placed a basin on a table behind the sofa and had him lean back, close his eyes, and gave him a bit more chocolate. Her fingers soothed his nerves as they massaged his scalp, lathering him slowly, untangling the knots made across so many restless nights… She rinsed the foam out, and then lathered his hair again until she was satisfied that he was clean. He was covered in a blanket by now, feet warming by the fire.

Once he was dry, she brought new clothes out for him — just a comfortable pair of nightclothes to start.

Sebastian let her dress him, but stayed silent the whole while. Unnaturally silent.

“How do you feel?” she asked with an encouraging smile as she rubbed the towel against his still-damp hair.

He avoided the question. “I should be asking you that.”

“Oh?” she giggled. “How so?”

“How far along?” he asked brusquely, not even looking at her.

“Six months,” she said with a sad smile, her hands threading gently through his hair.

Sebastian nodded and was quiet for long moments while the feelings he’d kept trying to hold back bubbled to the surface. Then, all of a sudden, he got up and walked all the way around the sofa. He started to pace up and down the centre of the room.

It wasn’t exactly unexpected… What did he, a convicted murderer with a broken wand, have to offer somebody like her? And who else to take her from him than Ominis — wealthier, more handsome, well-connected, kind and gentle and always far more level-headed than he ever was.

He should be happy for her, if he loved her. But he couldn’t manage it.

“I’d like to go,” he said, looking aimlessly around, everywhere but at her.

“What? Why?”

“I can’t stay here…”

“But —”

“I can’t.”

“Sebas—”

“It was difficult enough,” he started, “to be in there, wondering about you all the time, doubting whether… whether you would even want to speak to me after everything. But to see… to see you and…”

“And what?” she asked tearfully.

Sebastian took a deep breath in, then out. His swallowed thoughts and feelings poured out of him faster than he could control them.

“Every good memory I ever had was drained out of me, every day, every day,” he mumbled, “but however bad it was, I still thought… I still had… you.”

“Sebastian,” she whispered, approaching him slowly, “what are you talking about? You do have me, you do.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, working up the courage to say it. The chime of her steps on the wooden floor rang like a death knell in his ears.

“Seeing you and Ominis today…” he spat, sounding exactly as angry and betrayed and lonely as he felt, “was worse than any thoughts the Dementors put in my head.”

She stood there quietly and listened in a state of shock. Nothing he was saying made sense. Wasn’t he happy to see his friends? Was this an effect of his imprisonment? Would it go away with time? He sounded jealous, but he couldn't be. Nothing had changed between the three of them since they were at Hogwarts — nothing aside from…

“I should have known,” he continued, shaking his head as if he could get rid of the awful thoughts, “I should have known when you were always at the trial together, always whispering to each other…”

“Sebastian,” she said, speaking more sharply than she meant to, “whatever you think happened between me and Ominis, it didn’t.”

He looked down at her, his eyes dull and bleary but full of anger.

She met his gaze and held it gently, and reached out to take his hand. “Is this what you’re worried about?” she asked as she placed his palm on her lightly swollen stomach. “Because this is ours.”

She said it as if it had been the most obvious thing, but it struck Sebastian like a revelation. Suddenly, he looked at her as if she were a new person, and as if he were new as well. His frown relaxed and his lips lost their tension and the brown in his eyes turned sweet again from the smoulder that was there before.

“W-what?”

“That night after they announced your trial… Remember?” she said with a shy smile, blushing a little. “It’s ours. I was never involved with Ominis, we’re friends, like we’ve always been… It’s you I love, you I want, you I’ve been carrying this for.”

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat and looked down at her body, his hand still on her stomach. He nearly had forgotten… How could he? How could he? After years of circling around each other that night of finally confessing, finally accepting their love… It had meant everything to him, and if only for a moment it eclipsed his past sins and the looming trial and made everything fade into nothingness. Showing his love for her had been the sweetest moment of his life… So, how could he have forgotten it?

“The Dementors,” she frowned, answering it for him. “They steal happy memories, that is what they feed on.”

“I suppose they must’ve had a feast with that,” he said with a hoarse chuckle.

“My poor darling,” she whispered, her hand going up to cup his cheek. She knew she couldn’t begin to understand what had been done to him. Even seeing it unfold distraught her...

Sebastian, meanwhile, was fixated, fascinated, his hand warming on her tummy. “Mine,” he muttered, his hand caressing the expanse of her little swell. “W-wow…”

He was just beginning to understand what it meant: how wrong he’d been about her, about Ominis too, and about himself… And how beautiful of a future they had together now.

It also made him realise how horrible he’d been to her so far.

“I’m sorry,” he said briskly, looking into her eyes again.

“Why?” she frowned.

“For doubting you. For being ungrateful, most of all…”

“Oh Seb,” she sighed, and in the same breath reached up to hug him. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain it at first,” she whispered. “I know I should have. I just… felt so uncomfortable about it, so —”

“Ashamed?”

“Yes,” she mumbled.

His arms tightened around her back. “We’re both ashamed then. And we both shouldn’t be.”

She laughed a little. “I suppose so…”

Sebastian leaned back enough to look into her eyes again and his right hand cupped her cheek. With a trembling thumb, he wiped away a little tear that beaded at her lashes.

“And I’ve been letting you fuss over me all day,” he smiled sadly, wanting to sink into the ground with guilt.

“Don’t be silly,” she chuckled. “I’ve been alright… It’s you I’m worried about.”

“There’s nothing to worry about anymore.”

He knew it wasn’t really true, he knew he was still troubled and far from the man she used to know, but he was determined — especially now — to put Azkaban and all its woes behind him.

She hugged him loosely at the hips and smiled up at him, drinking in the beautiful sight of her Sebastian with finally a little bit of hope in his eyes.

“So what do you think?” she grinned. “Will you let me take care of you now?”

“I should be taking care of you. I did this to you, after all,” he said with a cocked brow. His hands slid down her neck and to her shoulders before settling around her waist, and all the while he looked her up and down suggestively.

She blushed at the shamelessness of him. “How about we take care of each other?” she chuckled.

“Well, you’ve already taken care of me enough for today,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I think it’s my turn now.”

She giggled and shook her head, but found her heart fluttering excitedly, just like it used to when they were still at Hogwarts, young and careless and in love… Of course, they were still quite young, and very much in love. They just needed to work on being careless again.

“And how do you propose to do that?” she whispered.

His arms wrapped around her waist more tightly and he tucked her head beneath his chin.

“That’s exactly how,” he said dreamily. “I’m going to propose.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

She pulled away enough to look at him. She could tell that he was being serious.

“You don’t expect I’ll let you go on this way, will you?” he said. His gaze was playful but with a serious edge beneath it. “We shall have to marry soon. This month. This week, if possible... Then we can go somewhere nice and quiet for a while, so neither your family nor any of our friends will be able to tell the months…”

“Seb, you’re not ready yet…”

“What am I, one of Garreth’s potions? I’m ready when I say I am.”

She laughed in spite of herself.

“So, what do you say?” he grinned.

And he pulled himself away from her, and held her hands in his, and with a surety that he had until now thought lost to him forever he got down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

She didn’t even need to think about it. “Yes. I will. I love you.”

Sebastian’s smile was so big and broad that it hurt his cheeks. It was so nice to have a dream come true every now and then… It felt like he’d been given a new life, a new soul that wasn’t tarnished, a fresh heart to love her with. His arms curled around her waist and he rested his weary head against her stomach, his eyes closed, and his ear to the little life inside her.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Both of you.”

He heard and felt her giggle, and then her hands came down to his ruffled head. She covered him like a star-speckled and cloud-soft firmament, and he’d never felt more safe.

#Sebastian Sallow #hl #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow x reader #pugsnotdrugs92 #still missed <3 #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #fanfic;memories

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ohthewh0rror · 6 months

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SAVE YOUR TEARS.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — you should know better than to go behind your husbands back.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 1k

TW: domestic violence and implied torture

A/N: this is actually an excerpt from this Tom/halfblood!OC story I’m writing, but I don’t know if I’ll ever actually post it, so I’ll just replace her name with Y/N and post the snippets here.

Y/N’s hands grabbed desperately at Tom, his stride keeping him just a step ahead of her, just out of reach. She could feel the tears drip onto her own robes, throat aching as she pleaded with him to not do this. That’s their boy, their only son. Her pleas fell on deaf ears as Tom kept on his path to the boys room.

Knowing they were growing closer and closer to his room, Y/N gave herself one last desperate push to grab Tom’s arm. She felt her fingers manage to snag the sleeves of his robe, and with all the energy she could muster in the moment, she yanked him.

The action only served to make Tom more mad, “unhand me!”. His voice was razor sharp, vaguely unrecognizable, as he yanked his arm from her grasp. In all their years together, she’d never seen him so angry, making her fear for their son only grow. Tom quickly turned and quickened his pace, the distance growing more and more between them, as her legs began to feel like jelly.

He made it to the room before her, making sure she wouldn’t get the chance to step in. Y/N twisted, turned, and pulled on the old brass knob hoping by some miracle it would open.

But it never did.

Y/N could hear the screams from the room, her head hanging in defeat as she crumbled to the ground. Her own screams of sorrow joined Mattheo’s as Tom punished him.

She curled into a ball onto the floor, and for the first time since she was a child, prayed to the muggle God to let Tom have mercy on him.

Y/N sat in the clawfoot tub unable to move. The warmth of the water and the smell of eucalyptus should have brought her some sense of peace, but ever since Mattheo’s “punishment” earlier, she felt as if a part of her had withered away. The crushing guilt and bitterness towards not being able to stop her husband left a bitter taste on her tongue. The seed of resentment that had planted itself in her heart had sprouted, firmly planting itself there.

The sight of Mattheo on the floor, twitching, blood smeared on the edges of his mouth, made her mouth run dry. The thudding of her heart threatened to cease as her heart broke in two, she rushed to him. As Y/N knelt next to her son, she gingerly cupped the back of his head, bringing it to her lap. A shrill wail escaped from between her lips and she looked at her son, who was out of it from whatever spell Tom had used against him.

She knew Tom was becoming more ruthless by the day, but she had hoped that it’d never come to this. Perhaps she was delusional, but she—

The quiet of the room was broken when the door clicked open, breaking her out of her thoughts. Y/N didn’t bother turning around or acknowledging who it was as she already knew. Y/N kept her sight trained on the wall as she listened to her husband's shoes click against the tile. Out her peripheral she could see him lean lazily against the counter, staring at her. “You knew he was being swayed against me, didn’t you?” Tom asked her. He sounded calm and collected, and that terrified her more than his anger. She contemplated lying, but decided her chances of living were better if she just came clean.

“Not exactly, I just had my suspicions, that’s all,” finally, she looked at him, and what she saw terrified her. His eyes looked dead, the blue of them shades darker than they should have been. They pierced right through her, leaving her feeling exposed. Breaking eye contact with her, Tom began to remove the outer layer of his robes, before working his way to the suit he wore underneath. He rolled the sleeves of his black dress shirt up to his elbows before turning back to face her.

Her eyes never left him as he lazily made his way towards her. It took everything in Y/N not to shrink away, unsure of if she should trust him in this moment. Tom sat on the edge of the tub, his hand reaching out and cupping her cheek, his thumb running over her lips. He gave her a small smile, eyeing her, almost as if he was admiring her. She relaxed slightly, thinking she had been spared from his ire.

Only after she relaxed did she understand his true intentions. Instantly, his hand slid down to her throat, blunt nails digging into the side of her throat as his grip tightened. Before she had a chance to react, Tom shoved her down into the soapy water, holding her there. After a few seconds Tom brought her back up, unable to open her eyes that burned from the soap suds. Tom only let her take a single breath before he shoved her back under, holding her there a little longer than last time.

This time Y/N came back up choking, trying desperately to get the water out her lungs. Her hands shot up, gripping Tom’s wrist, but he was unphased as he stared down at her struggling to breathe. As her coughing died down, his grip loosened as Y/N’s eyes began to fill with tears. She could feel her whole body shaking as she feared what he was going to do next.

Tom released his grip on her neck completely, raising his hand and bringing it up to wipe her wet eyes, unbothered by the involuntary flinch she gave. “Do not let me hear that my wife and son are trying to conspire against me again. My love for you is the only thing that saved the both of you tonight,” Tom told her. The underlying threat left her terrified and unable to speak; she gave him a nod of understanding, hoping he’d leave her be now.

Tom placed a kiss on the center of her forehead before getting up, leaving Y/N alone with her own thoughts once again.

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom: of course I love my wife! who cares that I almost drowned her #bro is terrible

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outofgloom · 4 months

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[This story is the last in my previously-posted anthology of Bionicle short fiction, to which it lends its name]

AIKURU

We arrived at the site before sunrise. It was in a place north of the ridge called Sakerra in the language of our Skrall guides. The discovery had been made only five days ago, and as we made our way down from the wind-worn crags, there were no apparent signs of raiding.

A structure was there in the valley, just as the flyover had reported. It was of the same gray, stonelike material from which all Their architecture is made—so old now that it no longer gleams in the light, but somehow still smooth to the touch.

As soon as we reached the lower steppes, our rangers set about the task of making provision for departure. Four days were allotted to us, and then the existence of the site would be announced to the Quadrate at large. After that, the System Adherents would claim their rights, and the site would be swallowed up in pilgrimage.

The structure was immediately familiar to me as we approached: a broad circle, rounded at the edges, raised from the ground by perhaps two spans to form a low column or stage. Half of the structure was covered beneath a berm of sediment, probably deposited by one flash-flood and then partly washed away by another. We immediately began the process of excavation, except for Neisa, who took up a position on the west side of the structure with her tools for assessing angles and spans, ready to note the position at which the red dawnlight would fall. It was a typical measurement, given the theory that such shrines were oriented in a significant way.

First with shovels and then with small brushes of fine wire, we cleared away the dust and caked mud until the entire circumference was revealed. As I had suspected, the entryway was already opened, and it too was filled with earth. Most of the first day was spent this way: in turns, we sifted through each layer, revealing step by narrow step the spiraling staircase that characterized shrines of this type. They were an original icon: the prototype for the modern chapels of the System Adherents.

I was halfway down the second bend of the staircase, carefully cleaning dirt from the lip of the next step, when Osphos summoned me from above. I emerged with my bucket and saw that he was crouched over the shrine’s far edge. I stepped across the rolls of harak-cloth that had been laid down for the protection of the exterior and made my way over.

“Lytus!” he said, seeing me approach. “Look here.” He pointed at the stone surface before him.

We had already noted the usual markings on top of the shrine: the eighteen-fold division of the broad circle, the components of which descended into a staircase when the shrine was opened. That was nothing new, but here there was something else. Small symbols were carved around the outer edge of the circle; very worn, but still visible.

“They showed up once we cleared off enough sediment,” Osphos said.

“Are they makoki-symbols?”

“Herem’s Eye, that’s the word I was thinking of! Makoki-symbols, yes,” Osphos said. “Ever seen them on a structure like this?”

“No, never. Are we sure they’re original?” I crouched, put an eye close to the surface. “There’s graffiti sometimes, bone-hunter codes, the Matan inscriptions on the eastern sites... These are new to me.”

“Any guess as to what they might signify?”

“Well...” I sat back on my heels, rubbed my eyes. “Makokori are early period, and we don’t find them past Second or Third Myriad—not in the tablets or kini-ruins. Prior to that, they’re inscribed on doorways, and some of the Machines. There are theories that they signify keystones, or some kind of locking mechanism.”

“Fortunate that this shrine is already unlocked for us, then.”

“Yeah... I suppose these symbols might help date the shrine. If they’re original, this might be one of the earliest sites we’ve found. We should do an analysis of the sediment back at Naqua.”

“Already collected some samples. I’ll take a rubbing as well,” Osphos said. “How’s progress on the interior?”

I brushed off my hands. “We’re close. Another turn and we should be at the bottom. I could use more help.”

Osphos snapped his fingers to the other workers who were combing the field-grid for artifacts.

“Double-time on the stairs for the next few hours,” he called. “I want to see the bottom before Solis is down. Let’s move it!”

* * *

We did not reach the bottom. Normally, shrines of this kind exhibit two or three turns of stairs and then level out in a circular chamber. Not this one. Solis had set an hour ago, and still we were digging, our work illuminated only by pale quartz-lanterns. Stair after stair we exhumed, always expecting the next to be the last. But after six turns, descending fully twelve thori—or about six of Their bio—into the earth, still there was no end.

Osphos finally gave the command to stop, frustrating though it was, and we began to pack up the tools. I was at the bottom of the excavation at that point. The air was thick, and my back hurt from crouching for so long. I began to gather the various shovels and brushes that had accumulated around me, handing them up to Neisa on the stair above me.

“Can you handle the rest?” Neisa nodded to the remaining implements.

“Right behind you.” I stood and stretched my limbs in the cramped space, then reached for my tool-bundle and bucket.

Something caught my eye—a glint in the quartzlight, a fragment of something sticking out of the mass of earth before me. I rubbed my tired eyes, blinked away the settling dust. It was still there.

Wordlessly, I snatched up a brush and began to sweep away more dirt. It was metallic—a shaped metal object. There was a corner and a round sweep and...

“Lytus?” Osphos’s voice filtered down from above. He was annoyed. “Pack it in. We’ll get back to it first thing in the—”

“I’ve found something!” I called back. “It’s an object. I’m not sure...”

Eyeholes. A facelike shape. My heart thudded.

“It’s a mask,” I said excitedly. “One of Theirs.”

“What?!” Neisa had come back down the staircase. Light from her lantern spilled into the space. “What condition?”

“Intact, I think.”

She knelt down beside me with a brush of her own. Together we worked to carefully expose the surface of the mask. The sediment here was dry and loose, spilling away in small showers of particulate. All at once, the object came free, along with a mass of unpacked earth. Out of instinct, I put out a hand to catch it.

“Watch it,” Neisa said. “Careful not to—”

I was standing on the stairs, alone. Light was coming from somewhere—not quartzlight, from somewhere below me. Coming up out of the stone itself. I was descending... or had I been ascending? My mind was kuru, and... What? Dark. Foggy. My mind was foggy. What was happening? Where was—

Suddenly the ground lurched, and there was a roaring noise above. I staggered against the smooth poha... no, stone. Against the stone, and the avo flickered below me. The light flickered, rather. Then another tremor knocked me sideways, and stars broke out in my aku as my head struck the poha hard. The avo went out, and the roaring was all around, and it was kuru, ai kuru, ai kuru ai—

“...touch it,” Neisa finished. The metal of the mask was cold against my fingers. The stairs spun, and I felt sick for a moment. Then it was over. I quickly transferred the mask to a strip of harak-cloth, handling it gingerly.

“What was... What did you say?” I shook my head. “Don’t touch it?”

“Yeah... uh, you alright? You look pale.”

I grinned. “I’m fine. Could use some fresh air though. You feeling superstitious or something?”

She scoffed. “I don’t know why I said that. It was silly.”

“You know they say these masks trap the souls of their wearers...”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Neisa bent down to examine the artifact. “Amazing. I’ve only seen them behind glass, or in the sterile rooms at Naqua.”

“Yeah, this is... It’s a find,” I said. The mask felt heavy and solid in my hands.

There was a murmur on the stairs, and I could hear Osphos’s grumbling voice descending toward us. He turned the corner.

“What now?” he said. “Tell me you’ve found something to make this worthwhile.”

“Think so,” I said, holding up the mask.

“What’s that?”

“Are you blind?” Neisa laughed. “It’s a Kanochus Mat—”

“No,” Osphos said, pointing past us. “That.”

There was a cavity in the wall of earth before us. It must have opened up when we removed the mask.

“The bottom!” Neisa said excitedly. She moved forward, shining her light through the gap.

She stopped. It wasn’t the bottom. I could already see. My heart was still thudding. It was dark. It was roaring in my ears. There was a smell, strangely metallic... and another shape sticking out of the dirt. Not a mask.

Fingers. A hand. An arm.

A face. Flat, blank eyes. A circular, wedge-like mouth. Open.

One of Them.

* * *

We stood around the examination table with its harak-draped contents—Osphos, Neisa, and myself. It was afternoon, and Solis was already falling toward the horizon, casting red shadows through the fabric of the tent.

Osphos broke the silence: “I don’t need to impress upon either of you how significant a find this is. Maybe the most significant I’ve overseen.”

“That’s for sure,” Neisa said. “The protobiologists back at the Institute would lose it if they knew...”

“They would, and hopefully they still will.”

We had worked to remove the body from the shrine over the course of the day—Osphos, Neisa, and myself, in shifts. It had been difficult work, but uneventful. Bit by bit we’d brushed away the packed earth and ancient sediment, revealing more and more of the remains. Now extricated from its tomb, the body lay on the large table before us, still wrapped, ready to be examined.

Before today, I’d only ever seen bits and pieces, partial casts of exoskeletons, mock-ups of skull-like faces... But this was different. It was completely intact, as far as we could tell: head, torso, limbs. A monumental find. The first complete specimen of what we called Matorus Matans.

“Before we start, there’s the matter of our timetable,” Osphos continued. “We obviously weren’t expecting a development like this, and that means priorities have changed.” He looked at me: “We might not get back to the shrine. I’m sorry, Lytus.”

My heart sank. “You’re sure? The shrine is pretty significant on its own, and we still haven’t reached the base layer.”

“It’s not going anywhere. The Adherents can have their Node if they want, and we’ll work something out via the Institute later if necessary. These... remains... have to be our focus now. I want them cataloged and prepared for transport offsite.”

“Offsite?” Neisa raised her eyebrows. “That’s pretty drastic.”

“There’s good reason,” Osphos said. “The Adherents have some odd notions when it comes to remains of this kind.”

“I mean, they’ll want them interred I suppose, but...”

“Maybe. It’s complicated—”

The tent-flap opened, and someone else entered carrying a bundle of implements. It was one of the junior researchers—Cyrcia.

“Yes?” Osphos said flatly.

“I told her that she could observe,” I said, beckoning her in. “Neisa and I thought we could use an extra set of hands.”

“You’ve done catalog before?” Osphos asked.

“Yes, I have,” Cyrcia replied. Her eyes passed over the table and its contents, then back up. “It’s a real honor, I’ve gotta say—”

“I’m sure it is. Grab a tablet, and get ready to make notes.” Osphos turned to the table, cracked his knuckles.

“The light’s a bit better now. Neisa, will you do the honors?”

Neisa began to carefully pull back the cloth that covered the body while I unrolled a bundle of fine tools. The limbs and lower torso were still encrusted with sediment. I’d start with that while Neisa took her measurements. We each began to call out observations in turn for Cyrcia to transcribe. We moved quickly, notating and tagging the legs and the squared-off feet, then the lower torso with its segments, then the upper torso.

“One and a half thori across the chest,” Neisa called out, “and we’ll say ten sub-thori for the arms...”

“Primary exoskeleton is of common morphology,” Osphos said. “Similar format to those recovered from the Galian Sea. Connective tissues are mostly decayed...”

“Some surface corrosion around the joining plates,” I added. “Centerline and upper shoulders. Only 1-2 ditori of penetration. Make note for dating purposes, mark upper-left buckle for cross-sectioning...”

“Twelve sub-thori across the lower mid-section. Five sub-thori for each of the radial pistons...”

“Tissue residue along the clavicle struts. Mark for lab-sampling. Limbs and neck will need to be secured for transport...”

Finally, we reached the head. I tugged the cloth upward and pulled it off. Cyrcia gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

“First time?” Neisa said, smiling.

“Yes, but... shouldn’t it be... shouldn’t it stay covered?”

“It’s a corpse,” Osphos said. “Just a body, like yours or mine. Several ten-myriads older, but nothing to be afraid of, despite all the superstitions.”

“Right... sorry.”

“Can you handle it?”

“I can.”

“Good. Let’s keep going then. And remember—no souvenirs. We’re not bone hunters here.”

Neisa rolled her eyes. The practice of fashioning talismans from Their relics and remains had fortunately been curbed in recent centuries, though you could still find them in the odd back-alley market.

We finished primary cataloging, and Osphos stepped to one of the crates, removing a bundle he had stored there. He moved back to the table and unwrapped it. Smooth metal glinted in the tent. Two eyeholes stared up at the tent-roof. Cyrcia’s eyes goggled at the ancient mask.

“Shall we do a match-up?” Neisa asked, nodding to the exposed face. “This would have been the specimen’s personal Kanochus. It must have been separated during whatever flood or mudslide buried the shrine.”

There was a noise in my ears. Roaring noise, and a memory of a dark place... I shook it off as Osphos moved to the head of the table after double-checking the mask’s interior. He lowered the mask gingerly over the face, lining up the mouth-apertures. There was a faint click. Neisa leaned over to see how it fit over the side-vents—

Dark eyes glowed, and a light winked on in the center of the chest. Pistons hissed. Joints creaked. The body sat up suddenly in a shower of dust, limbs convulsing, fingers clenching and unclenching. I stumbled backward in shock, tripping over the low crates that lined the tent-wall. The masked face swiveled mechanically in my direction, and there was a noise. Not a noise—a voice. The rounded wedge-mouth was grinding out syllables at me. Alien sounds. Alien words. I put up my hands to ward it off, and—

Everyone was standing still. The eyes were dark. The body had not moved. I was sitting on a crate, my ears ringing. Neisa was looking down at me with a concerned expression.

“You okay, Lytus?”

“I... I got dizzy,” I lied.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” Osphos asked. He had removed the mask and was wrapping it up again.

“A few hours at least. I’m fine, really.” I stood up, looking at the motionless body warily, trying to compose myself. No one else had seen what I had seen. It hadn’t really happened. Neisa was still looking at me.

“Are you sure? You look a little unsettled. First in the shrine, and then this. Maybe you should see a medic.”

Before I could reply, the tent-flap opened and another worker poked his head in. He was out of breath.

“Sorry, to bother you, boss, but there’s, uh... Someone’s here to talk to you.”

“Someone?” Osphos frowned.

“There was an airship, not two minutes ago. It landed beyond the ridge, and someone’s approaching from the trail.”

“Herem’s Eye,” Osphos swore.

* * *

The rangers escorted the strangers—there were two of them, actually—down to the edge of the camp.

One was tall—clearly an Athori—and as he approached, it was plain that he was fully armored; head to toe, like the Glatorian of old. The other was much shorter, bent over, leaning on a staff. It was a Skrall—an ancient one, by the head-crest.

Both of them wore metal masks. Only their eyes were visible.

The tall one planted himself just ahead, his squared-off, armored feet crunching in the gravel. The Skrall settled himself on a low metal stool beside him.

Osphos stepped forward. “Welcome,” he said politely. “I am Osphos, the overseer of this excavation. And you are?”

“My designation is Tasius,” the tall one said. His voice rang harsh behind the mask. “I am a Toa of the Adherency, of the Ackarian line. This...” he gestured to the Skrall, “...is Tura Shozu, elder of the Adherent Node at New Tellu. We have been sent to make claim upon this site.

“You’ve lost no time, it seems,” Osphos said dryly. “I wasn’t aware the Quadrate had opened the site at this time.”

“The site and its contents must be turned over at once. We—” Tasius stopped suddenly. The Skrall had raised a wizened hand.

“You are aware,” the elder said in a thin voice, “that the Adherency is granted right of access to all sites attributed to the System of Mata, are you not?”

“Well aware, yes. That is what we aim to determine: the provenance of the site, and the proper methods of its excavation and preservation, according to our charter.”

“Preservation or contamination?” The Skrall’s glance flicked to the tents behind us. “Our intelligence has indicated that this site is of particular significance to the Adherency.”

“You can follow the proper channels to make your claims, like everyone else.”

The Skrall continued undeterred:

“We have been made aware of certain... remains... left at this site. What is their nature, and how have they been contained?”

I could see the muscles in Osphos’s jaw flexing.

“Our excavation is less than two days old. May I ask the source of your ‘intelligence’?”

“The System is knowledge. Through Unity, knowledge is shared.”

“Fascinating,” Osphos said. “Well, regardless of your sources, I can’t give you access to the site at this time. By charter, the Quadrate has—”

“Animal remains, yes? Within the structure. I was led to believe that it was a beast.”

“I’m not at liberty to make that assessment.”

“May I see the remains?”

“All materials found at this site will be made publicly available.”

“I demand to see the remains.”

“No.”

The Skrall smiled. “Thank you for your candor. We have a truth-saying, amongst the Nodes: ‘The people of the world are of one nature or the other: Look into their hearts, and you will see that they are either Builders or Destroyers.”

“With respect, I believe it may be more complicated than that.”

“Then I have looked into your heart.”

“Uh…thank you. Is that all, Tura? We have a lot of work still to do.”

“I shall take word of our conversation to the Node Hierarchy and return later.”

“Fine by me.”

The Skrall put out a crooked hand and closed it into a fist in the manner of the Adherents. He inclined his head, waiting. After a moment, Osphos stepped forward and pressed his own fist against the elder’s. Then it was over. The Athori helped the Skrall to stand, and the two of them departed back up the slope, accompanied by the rangers. Osphos stood and watched, tapping his foot. He spoke quietly, keeping his face fixed in a smile.

“So much for offsite transport,” he growled after a few minutes. “They’ll have eyes on the camp now. By Angon, if we’d been just a bit quicker...” He swore again. Then, satisfied that the rangers had escorted the Toa far enough, he turned back to the camp.

“Nothing for it now. Let’s clean up and get things packed away. Oh, and Lytus—”

“Yeah?”

“Get some sleep—for real this time. I can’t have you falling over again during sensitive work.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

* * *

I didn’t sleep well that night after all. Instead, I dreamed.

Long, complicated dreams. Dreams that didn’t make any sense. I was in the stairwell of the shrine again. I was on a bright, open plain. I was speaking words and sentences that meant nothing to me. I was running from a dark, crashing wave that rolled over me and pressed on my face, on my mouth.

I was walking on the open plain again, and two suns were shining down on me. My face was still covered though, somehow. I reached up to claw at whatever was there. It came away in my hands.

It was my face, staring up at me.

I was lying in my cot, and the tent was dark. The desert night was cold outside. I shivered and turned over. There was a noise at the tent-flap, something scraping in the dirt. The dull ring of metal on poha... on stone.

The flaps shook. It was trying to get in. It was grinding, grinding words and syllables at me, words that meant nothing. It was roaring, roaring noise and darkness, darker than the night. It was kuru, ai kuru, roaring over the camp, crashing through the walls of my tent in a wave and sweeping me down into dark, into kuru, ai kuru, ai kuru ai—

“Lytus?” Neisa’s voice brought me fully awake. It was morning. My bleary eyes focused, and I could see her silhouette through the side of the tent. “Lytus, you awake?”

“I’m up, sorry. What’s going on?”

“The emissary from the Adherents is back. Osphos is speaking with them.”

“Oh. What should we do?”

“Osphos said to stay put. Probably wouldn’t look good to have everyone out at the shrine right now.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah I’m heading over to one of the storage tents to help with tagging. Want to help?”

“Sure, I’ll follow you over in a bit.”

After a few minutes, I stepped outside into the pale red sunlight. I could see Osphos and a couple of the rangers on the far side of the circle of tents. The Athori and the Skrall were there as well. Their voices echoed faintly in the morning air, and I found myself walking closer. I stepped behind one of the taller tents nearby.

“...does not accord with our canons,” the Skrall was saying.

“I confess, Shozu—can I call you Shozu?”

“The correct title is ‘Tura’,” another voice said brusquely—the armored Athori.

“Sorry... Tura,” Osphos continued. “I’m not as familiar with the canons of Adherency as I should be, but I can assure you—”

“It is of utmost importance that we examine the site. The Kanohi in particular must be handed over.”

They knew about the mask somehow. Had they been spying on the camp?

“As I’ve said, that is something to take up with the Quadrate.”

“It is already in process, but the matter is urgent.”

“I must adhere to my charter and await further orders. Until then, we’ll continue our work.”

“We must be allowed to supervise. My companion here is trained in the handling of such objects. They must be treated with utmost care.”

“Yes, and—”

“And these remains—they must be verified. Some hapless bone hunter or a beast, I’m sure.”

“As I’ve told you, it is clearly a specimen of Matorus Matans, good Tura. There’s no mistaking it.”

“And as I have said, this is not in accord with our canons. Such things only lead to greater kuru.”

“Pardon?”

“Greater obscurity—my apologies. The Children of Mata are not some extinct automaton race. We ourselves are the heirs to the Great System Hierarchy. You must understand—”

“Your beliefs are your own.”

“...The Kanohi are precious. They connect us to the spirit of Mata, and to the spirits of those from the Before Time...”

My mind was racing, an avalanche of thoughts, fragments of dreams. A roaring noise, and dark, and kuru... What was happening to me? The Kanohi are precious... They connect us to the spirit of Mata...

What if...?

“Only then can we hope to repair the Shattering,” the elder was saying.

“With respect,” Osphos replied, “the Shattering is ancient history. It was repaired, at least five myriads ago.”

“A common myth, but it is a great untruth.”

I could tell Osphos was short on patience by now: “I can literally point it out to you in the strata. You see that ridge there? The Sakerran Ridge? It’s the tail end of a subduction zone where the Botan and Baran plates met—”

The Skrall laughed dryly: “A fantastical narrative, I admit, that a planet could be broken in pieces. But the reality is much more abstract. We ourselves live within the Shattering, my friend: the decay of the Great System Hierarchy of the Great Beings, which they called Mata Nui...”

“I do not—”

“We the Matoran,” the Skrall continued, ignoring him, “the Children of Mata, work now to rebuild and restore the Great System, in accordance with our canon. To connect all things together, till the scattered elements are made whole. Only then will the Great Beings return and truly heal this world.”

A long moment passed. The air was thick with tension.

“Ahem... I do not believe this conversation is productive,” Osphos said at last. “I’m not granting you access to the site at this time—no matter what your canons say. You’ll just have to wait for your request to be approved by the Quadrate, and that’s that, by Angon.”

Something happened. There was a scuffling noise, and the clank of armor.

“Hold it! That’s enough, you—”

I peeked over the top of the tent. The Athori—the one who had called himself a ‘Toa’—was standing between Osphos and the Skrall now, fists clenched. For a moment, I thought... I thought the air around him was shimmering with heat, like high noon on the desert. Then it was gone. There were rangers standing all around, and I noticed that they had weapons at the ready. One of them swung a bolas lazily.

“Control your guard, Shozu,” Osphos spat. “My reports go directly to the Quadrate. They’ll hear of this.”

“Take not the names of the Great Beings in vain!” the Skrall said indignantly, pointing a crooked finger from his stool. “The canon shall not be denied, nor shall it be mocked.”

“I’ve said all I have to say, by Angon.” He emphasized the expletive. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Tura, I’m on a timetable—”

“Such things lead only to kuru and ukuru worse! We must strive for clarity...!”

I had heard enough. Quietly I crept away between the tents, back toward the other side of the camp. The Skrall’s words spun in my mind as I walked. Kuru and ukuru worse. Something was wrong—ever since I had touched that mask... was that when it started? What did the Skrall know? I wanted to tell someone, but who would believe it? I was tired, that was all. It had been a long few days, full of strangeness and excitement. That must be it. I hoped so...

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. We didn’t get much work done—mostly tagging and storing various artifacts found around the site. I was itching to get back to the shrine, but Osphos was wary. He had sent couriers south to apprise our Quadrate contacts of the situation, but they wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Until then, we were stuck.

In the evening, Osphos sought me out. He had a bundle under one arm.

“Here, Lytus. I’d like you to keep this in your tent.”

It was the mask. My mouth was suddenly very dry.

“Is that, uh, necessary?”

“Maybe not, but I’m taking no chances. The Adherents aren’t getting any more patient. Neisa’s keeping some other artifacts, and I think I’ll sleep in the examination tent tonight, just in case.”

“You mean... with the body?”

“Don’t make it sound creepier than it is.”

“Sorry.”

He offered the mask. I took it. My fingers felt numb.

“Tell you what, we’ll take another pass at excavating the shrine in the morning, try to get to the bottom.”

“That’s great! I’ll have my gear ready.”

“Only one day left to go, so what have we got to lose, right?”

The mask felt heavier than I remembered.

* * *

I had the dream again that night, or something like it. A stairwell, a bright plain with two suns. A dark roaring... Then... Then something else. A dim enclosure. Fabric walls. A tent? I was lying on my back, and my limbs were bound tight. My face was covered, but not with heavy suffocating darkness like before. It was lightweight, like cloth. I struggled, I yelled. My words were meaningless again.

The tent-flap shook, like last time. I could hear it, the scraping, the grinding. It was trying to get in, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything. The entrance parted, and there was darkness outside. Darkness on the ground, and in the darkness... now there was a crawling thing. Crawling, dragging itself through the dust, right up to the place where I lay. I could feel it. See it, even though my face was covered. Its flat eyes glowed, and its mouth was open. Grasping hands rose up toward me and searched, reached, searched—

I was standing in front of myself, seeing myself. I was stretched out beneath the covering, on the table. I was walking under stars, and my hands were full of something. I looked down and saw that I was holding my face. It looked up at me, up at the stars. I tried to put it back on, but it wasn’t my face anymore. It was glowing eyes and grasping hands, and a mouth grinding syllables and words. It was a shape under fabric, stretched out on a table in the dark, and I stood before it, holding its face... my face.

I clawed at the covering, trying to pull it off, but the noise was approaching again. The roaring, rolling noise, and my face... its face... my face was grinding alien sounds and alien words, and it was so dark in the stairwell, in the cold, heavy earth. So dark under the cloying wrap of fabric, so kuru it was, and ukuru worse, ai kuru, ai ukuru—

I awakened in a cold sweat and rolled over. My hands slid in sand, and a stinging thornbush brought me fully awake. I wasn’t in my cot. Wasn’t in my tent. How...? It was still nighttime, but there were lights in the encampment, and the sound of people running. I could hear voices. What was happening? I stumbled up, brushing dust from my face, and realized that I was in the space next to my own tent. I went to the entrance and looked inside. No one there. Then I looked out toward the center of the camp, trying to get my bearings.

A figure came out of the darkness, and I flinched as it grabbed my arm. It was Osphos. He was out of breath.

“Where is it, Lytus?” he hissed. “The body—it’s gone!”

“What, from the examination tent?”

“Yes that body, by Angon. Did you do something? I didn’t even hear...”

“N-no, of course not!”

“What about Neisa? Have you seen her?”

“I haven’t.”

“Have you seen anyone?!”

“No, I just woke up!”

“Adherents...” He ground his teeth. “Ah, the Quadrate will hear of this...”

“Wait—Are you sure?”

“Who else? It’s gone from the tent, but nothing else has been taken. I came right here once I realized. Where’s the mask? Has anyone been in your tent?” He pushed past me, through the entrance.

A crawling thing, a thing with glowing eyes, reaching out... but that wasn’t my tent, was it?

“N-no, no one,” I stammered.

“Where did you put it? I have to be sure.”

I moved to the back of the tent and opened my personal crate. The hinges creaked. “It’s right here, see?”

The mask was gone, wrapping and all. Osphos saw.

“Acta!” he cursed, and then let fly a string of imprecations, invoking the dream-eater and the death-mind, among others. “What, were you drugged or something?!”

“I don’t know... Osphos, I—” I tried to get it out. “I had a dream, or I thought it was a dream. I keep seeing things...”

“Spare me.” He stormed out of the tent, and I followed, feeling absolutely bewildered. There was too much happening, too fast.

“Go find Neisa,” Osphos ordered. “I’m heading back to the examination tent. Can you handle that?”

“Yes, boss.”

I snatched up a quartz-lantern and made my way across the encampment toward Neisa’s tent. Hers was the last tent on the outer ring of the camp. My lantern cast a pale glow over the ground as I went, and I could see that there were lights in the hills now, figures moving up and down the steppe. The rangers were likely combing the perimeter. I stopped for a moment to watch, then realized that I had stupidly lost track of which tent was which. Was Neisa on the east or the west side?

I backtracked. The tents all looked the same in the quartzlight. I took a different turn... and now found myself standing on the path that led out to the open part of the valley. Out toward the shrine.

There were footprints in the dirt. Very fresh. Hard-edged, square toe. Where had I seen that before? I looked up the path, raising the lantern. There was something else. I stepped forward to investigate. It was a heap of cloth, harak-cloth, in small strips. Further up the path, there was another bundle cast to the side.

I kept walking, quickening my pace. More bits of cloth here and there. More footprints. Soon, the edge of the shrine loomed ahead. I moved toward it, stepping gingerly through the rope-grids that were stretched over the ground. I made a circuit of the shrine, then I climbed up on top. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. I shed quartzlight all around, then I stooped to look into the stairwell. The dust on the stairs had recently been disturbed—

“Get down from there,” a voice said, and I whirled to see the towering figure of the Athori Tasius standing on the trail.

“You—” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I have every right,” the Athori said, stepping forward. “Remove yourself from the sacred Amaja!”

I put up my hands appeasingly and complied, climbing back down to the ground and taking a few steps toward him.

“I saw footprints on the trail up here,” I said. “Were they yours?”

“On the trail? No. I came from the hills. I have been charged to keep watch over the Amaja, to make sure no one further contaminates the site.”

“Did you see anyone come here ahead of me?”

“No.”

“There’s been a theft in the camp,” I said. “Do you have anything to do with that?” I immediately regretted asking so directly.

“Theft?” The Athori’s eyes widened. “Theft of what?” He took another step toward me.

“Uh...”

“Tell me!”

“The mask! The... the Kanohi, you call it. Someone took it tonight.”

“What else?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

The Athori said a word that was foreign to me. Probably a curse. He looked back toward the camp. His hands were clenched.

“Listen,” I said, “it looks like someone has entered the shrine. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“I am forbidden, without the Tura,” he said.

“Well, I’ll need to check inside.” I took a step back toward the shrine. “It will only take a second. If you’ll just wait here—”

A heavy, armored grip fell on my shoulder and I was forcefully turned back around. The Athori was fast, and very strong.

“The Amaja will not be touched again,” his voice said, deadly serious. I could feel hot breath through the mouth-piece of his mask. “You and your people have brought rahi upon this place, but no more. Now, I—”

He stopped suddenly, and I felt his fingers seize. He was looking past me, up at the shrine. I turned slowly.

Glowing eyes. An ancient mask. A small figure stood upon the top of the shrine, unmoving. I could see it. The Athori could see it. It was no hallucination this time. Not a dream.

“M-manas!” the Athori croaked. “Get back!”

He shoved me to the side before I could say a word.

And then he burst into flame.

Real flame, like the elementals of old who had been devoured by the Great Beings’ wrath. I didn’t even have time to register shock or surprise before the heat washed over me. Instinctively I threw up my arms to protect myself.

“Stop!” I shouted, scrambling away. “You’ll damage the site! Stop it!”

The fire whirled up and resolved into a glowing nimbus around the Athori’s hands and head. He drew a strange tool from a slot in his armor, and aimed it at the figure atop the shrine.

“No!”

Something flew out of the dark—a whirling rope-like thing—and wrapped itself around Tasius’s burning face and neck. The ends of the bolas whirled for a split second before they snapped tight, and the loud clack of the weights meeting their target made my teeth hurt. The fire went out suddenly, and the scene plunged into darkness. I heard the tramp of feet on the path, and voices shouting. Quartzlight bobbed in the distance.

I was already up and over the top of the shrine before I knew what I was doing. The figure was gone. The opening of the stairwell yawned before me—cool dark after the furnace heat—and I was scrambling down the stairs, two at a time.

“Wait!” I shouted, but my voice was blunted on the stone. “Come back!”

Turn after turn I went. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was pitch-black. I should have grabbed my lantern, but I had dropped it. I realized my hands were burned. They stung when I touched the wall, feeling my way along. I stumbled, picked myself up, and then felt earth against my fingers. The wall of earth where we had stopped excavating. No one was here... Had I been mistaken? Had the figure not gone back into the shrine? Maybe it had run off...

There was light, I realized. It wasn’t pitch-black here. My eyes adjusted, and I saw with a shock that the earth wall wasn’t a wall anymore. It had been dug through, shoveled back and shored up into the walls of a narrow tunnel. When had the others done this? Why hadn’t they notified me? There were handprints in the dust, I noticed. Squared-off palm, five fingers.

Heedless, I push on, squeezing through the tunnel, wriggling on my chest. For a moment I thought I was stuck, and panic surged, but then I was through, and there was no more earth. No more dirt or sediment. The stairs on the other side were clear, pristine. We had been so close, after all.

The light was stronger here, filtering up from somewhere below me. Coming up out of the stone itself. I had been here before, hadn’t I? No, not possible. I had just come through the tunnel... and I was descending... or had I been ascending? My mind was... my mind was kuru, and... foggy... What was I doing here again? I was waiting for something, wasn’t I? Waiting for a roaring sound... a darkness to come and cover me. I had been here many times, in my dreams.

No, that had been before, long ago. This time it was different. I was descending, and the light was getting stronger. Another bend of the stairs, and then the stairs ended.

It was a round, level, circular room—just like the many others I had seen before. The first thing I noticed was the Pedestal. In shrines of this kind, there was usually a square pedestal at one end, surmounted by a face-like image. In later types, the image was the skull of an animal, usually a Spikit or an Ironwolf.

On this one, there was a mask. It was the mask. It was glowing, and the light was coming out of every surface. My heart was thudding.

I was not alone. The body lay in a heap on the ground before the pedestal. I could see scorch marks on its back and upper arms. I came closer and saw that it was moving slightly. Slow breaths. The eyes glowed faintly.

I touched it, gently, almost reverently. It was strange how my mind resisted the idea that this was no longer... remains... It was living, somehow. After all these eons, it was alive. The dim eyes shifted, fixed on me. The mouth moved, and the wedge-like shapes ground out their halting syllables and words, but I still could not understand.

How had it gotten the mask?

A crawling thing, with glowing eyes, searching, reaching.

A shape under fabric, stretched out on a table in the dark.

What was happening to me?

I was walking under stars. I was crawling, dragging through the dust. I was standing in front of myself, looking down at myself. I was holding my face in my hands. I was touching an ancient mask in a small, cramped space, and sparks were leaping into me. Its metal was cold against my fingers. The Kanohi are precious, I remembered. They connect us to the spirit of Mata...

It was dark all around. It was roaring. It was kuru, ai kuru, ai kuru ai—

A metal hand touched me weakly and brought me back to reality. The finger pointed up at the glowing mask atop the pedestal, and I understood. It needed the mask—its personal Kanochus.The mask had activated the shrine, but the circuit was incomplete. It needed the mask back, in order to accomplish whatever purpose it intended. Whatever purpose it had been kept from all those eons ago.

There was a noise on the stairs. Voices murmuring. The thud of metal on stone. How much time had passed? I had lost track. They would be looking for me. Hopefully the rangers had done their work.

“I’m here!” I shouted up. The voices continued. The hand gripped my arm again. The mouth ground out more words.

“I know,” I said.

I stood and pulled the mask off the pedestal. It sparked in my hands, and I felt a charge go through me... or maybe that feeling had already been there, ever since I touched the mask, days ago. Something had been clinging to me. I felt it now. Something intangible, something in my thoughts and my dreams. I had joked about trapped souls to Neisa, but now I wasn’t so sure...

The light increased. I bent toward the body... not just a body—toward the Matoran... and—

A wave of heat rushed down the stairwell, and a burning smell filled the chamber. I froze, and fear surged in my chest as I turned my head to look.

It was the old Skrall. He was standing on the stairs, leaning on his staff. His eyes were sharp behind his mask, and somewhere in the back of my mind it clicked, that although the masks of the Adherents were clearly forged like the one I now held, they were subtly different, like a picture whose original reference had been lost. A copy of a copy of a copy...

“Hold a moment,” the Skrall said urgently. “You stand on sacred ground. Disturb not the machines of the Great Beings.”

“I don’t know what that means.” I stood up and turned around slowly. The Skrall’s eyes widened as he saw what I was holding... and what was slumped behind me.

“That Kanohi...” he hissed, descending another step. “It is meant for the Children of Mata alone. You must give it to me—it is not for you to touch!”

“I’ve already touched it. It has... shown me things. Things I don’t understand.”

The Skrall’s breath hissed in his mask.

“Give it to me, and all shall be restored to unity.”

“It’s not yours. It belongs to... to this one.” I pointed at the Matoran. The dim eyes looked at the wizened elder, but the Skrall averted his gaze.

“This is not in accord with our canons,” he intoned.

“I don’t—”

“Such things only lead to greater kuru.”

I was on a stairway. I was on a great open plain, beneath two suns. My face was covered, but it was not my face. Not anymore. It belonged to someone else.

“You’re wrong.” I held the mask close.

“The canon shall not be denied, nor shall it be mocked. Give me the mask.”

The Skrall was not alone now. Another figure moved into the stairwell behind him. A cracked and broken mask, a bruised and bloodied face. More heat poured into the chamber as the Athori Tasius descended, eyes still glowing with fire.

I shrank back to the pedestal, and the lights of the shrine brightened further. The Matoran moved pitifully. We were trapped. The pedestal was humming. Waiting.

Waiting.

The Athori was moving, hindered by the small opening. His armored hand reached out at me, white-hot.

But I had already placed the mask on the Matoran’s face, and the charge that I had felt in my body went out of me... back into the mask, into the Matoran.

And the shrine was blazing white with light, and the pedestal was retracting into the wall. And the Skrall was staggering back onto the stairs, eyes raving. And the Athori was still moving forward, overbalanced, tipping forward into suddenly empty space.

The walls were pulled back and then were gone as the bottom of the shrine became a circular platform and dropped down, down into pitch-black. The stairwell shrank into the distance above us, and I saw the Athori hang for a moment, glowing with heat. Then he fell, whirling like a fiery meteor, right past the edge of the descending platform and away into the greater dark.

Gone.

A few moments passed, maybe longer. I sank down on the platform, exhausted and spent. The Matoran was sitting next to me. It reached out and gripped my shoulder with its metal hand. Its eyes were glowing bright again, and the light in its chest blinked steadily, despite the corrosion and scorch-marks that covered the rest of its body. It looked at me, and its mouth shifted into a different configuration.

I think it was smiling.

Cold air rushed past us as we fell onward, onward into unknown. I don’t know how long we spent in that smooth descent. I looked up and saw nothing above, and nothing on either side. I wondered if I would ever see the surface again, if I would ever have a chance to tell someone. I wondered what was happened or had happened in the camp. I wondered if anyone else but the two Adherents knew what had happened to me, to the mask, to the Matoran...

Except for the light of the platform beneath us, it was dark all around. Featureless, unbroken dark.

“Kuru,” I said aloud, unbidden, remembering the word.

“Ha te ai kuru,” my companion replied, nodding.

I shivered and rubbed my arms.

“Ukuru,” I said.

“Ru,” it replied, standing up. “Ru te aikuru. Akuya.”

The Matoran went to the edge of the platform—too close for my comfort—and pointed out into the surrounding dark.

“Akuya,” it said, and gestured at my... my eyes. My aku. Look. It beckoned me and pointed again. And hesitating, shivering, I rose and went to where it stood, and looked out. And I saw:

Rising up over us, ascending as we descended into the depths of Spherus Magna... Deeper than any excavation could reach, deeper than the catacombs of lost Atero, or the mass tombs of the Glatori hosts, farther and deeper than the silo-vaults of the Great Beings, or the maze-labyrinths of Old Skralla, or the vast mutated seabeds of Old Spherus... Far beyond the reach of Quadrates or Adherencies, of charters or canons...

Past the unknown dark, the aikuru...

There were stars, and two suns rising.

#bionicle #art #writing #fanfiction #works #outofgloom #spherus magna

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triplesilverstar · 3 months

Text

Sometimes it's just about control

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Knives X F!Reader

CW: Dom/Sub undertones. P in V sex, rough sex, tied up, cream pie, aftercare.

Word count: Roughly 1.6K

A/N: Chapter four of the series, you had a shit day at work and when you get home realize Nai is waiting for you since you forgot you had a date. You might be in trouble.

A high pitched whine is ringing in your ears, one that is emanating from your own throat, the result of the dissatisfaction that had been building in you for almost an hour now. Tugging at the restraints wrapped around your wrists securing you to your headboard. Two large hands are groping the underside of your thighs keeping them up in the air while the pale blond head between them is currently distracted with linger licks to your outer folds before pulling back, a warm exhale against the quivering flesh before pulling back and away from you. “Pet, should you continue to heave against your restraints I will end tonight early leaving you far more distraught then when we started.” Breathing in through your nose, you try to make yourself more aware of what your hands are doing, missing the narrowed teal orb taking in your flushed appearance and still heaving chest. “Color?”

His voice surprises you for a moment, or more, the word does. Taking the time to think it over and the way your body is feeling “green” which is partially a lie as you’ve been edged so many times already your body is screaming to tumble over that precipice. Aside from the overwhelming need to cum however, your body is fine, no pain that you don’t enjoy, nothing too close to what you might consider overwhelming. This time you catch his gaze as it rakes over your naked form, not breaking his eyes from your own. His head turns before sinking his pearly whites into your calf, wailing at the pain.

Nai lets up moments before he would have broken the skin, tongue rubbing against the already reddening skin. “Remain calm pet, I told you before we started I’ll look after you tonight” he doesn’t need to say anything more, because he is right.

You’d had nothing but a shit day at work. And by work, you meant your day job as a transcription typist instead of bartending at Flux. Another one of the requirements of Calla, everyone needed a regular working job to give the appearance of being clean cut. Honestly you didn’t care about typing, but being able to type as fast as you could while listening to transcription was easy. And minus Mondays and Friday, you don't need to go into the office. Monday pick up tapes, start working on typing them all out and at the end of the day, taking the laptop home. The laptop was monitored so it made it easy to make sure your work was done during working hours, and working hours only. Then Friday back in around ten to turn in the completed files, do a debrief to see if you remembered anything from the tapes. The answer was always, never. At least the answer you told the company, anything of interest was filed away in your head for Calla.

So on this Friday after turning in your laptop, you’d been called into the supervisors office just in time to hear a shit storm break out from outside the space. And spent four hours sitting there listening to the turmoil of the office politics, then going though your own debrief, which was interrupted by another freak out. Including police being called when someone pulled a knife. By the end of it all, almost seven o’clock you were trudging home, and pushing your apartment door open. Fingers hitting the light switch and starting to kick your shoes off before a hand wrapped around your wrist causing you to scream and jump away.

Nai was standing there, one elegant eyebrow raised while he looked down his nose at you much like a predator eyeing up its prey. The sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, suit pants on. It suddenly dawns on you. “Fuck, we had a date.” You’re running a hand down your face, great, you missed a dinner date with Knives. On one of the rare Friday nights you weren’t at Flux, you had a date with your boyfriend. He’d been expecting to pick you up for five, which meant now by eight you were beyond late for whatever Knives had planned. Now, you are going to end up paying for it.

“Indeed we did, Pet.” His wide palm is still wrapped around your forearm, a squeak passing your lips when he gently pulls you closer to him free hand cupping your chin and tilting your chin to get a better look at you. “While you are well aware of the consequences that wasting my time brings. I’m inclined to believe something else is at work here tonight.” His mouth is against yours as he finishes, a press of his lips before his tongue is pressing against your lips and you moan low in your throat letting him have the access he wants. As you feel your mind starting to blank from the ferocity of his actions he pulls away, nose pressed against yours. “Tell me what happened” there in his teal eyes you see the flick of tenderness.

So you do, all the stupidity of what happened at the office. Most of the time you speak his face remains impassive, nose pressing against yours on occasion, breath stuttering from the action. Once the police are mentioned the slightest twitch of his hands on your skin, the briefest press of his lips against the corner of your mouth. As you finish the events of what should have been a quiet day, closing them off at when you opened your apartment door, Nai releases his hold on you stepping away.

“You’ve had a turbulent day, Pet, and while I am satiated as to why you missed our date, I find my craving for you under me whimpering has not abated.” Turning from you to approach the partial open closet and his suit jacket that is hanging there. “I am not a monster. If you wish for me to depart tonight I will.” No thoughts pass through your head other to reach out to him, wrapping your arms around his and pressing your facing into his back, forehead barely reaching his shoulder blades.

“Stay” one word, while softly spoken conveys what you want. You want him and everything it entails.

“Very well Pet, I’ll look after you tonight.” Now you were here, arms secured against the headboard with Nai having brought your body to the brink so many times between his thick digits and long tongue. Your neck is nothing but a smattering of bruises that come tomorrow will be hidden under your clothes, chest covered similarly and dotted with bite marks from his sharp teeth.

His fingers are inside you once more, three of them stretching you out with one leg braced against his shoulder, the other held in his grasp. Trying your best to keep your hands from pulling away from the headboard while panting hard. “That is the behavior I expect from you, and I think it’s time you earned your reward.”

A quick adjustment of your legs and his fingers trailing from your slick cunt, before his dick slams into you, all the way to the base as he sets a brutal steady pace. Head dropping back down onto your pillow, back arcing from the pleasure he’s forcing from your exhausted body. His thick cock always feels amazing, the way as he plunges in and out of you the veins hitting and dragging inside your tight walls. Pace remaining the same he grabs your legs and forcing your knees into your chest, the angle making you scream his name, walls clenching hard. “Almost there, my sweet.”

He’s grunting now a beautiful background to your own pants before he’s leaning forward his weight adding more pressure to your legs changing the angles more. You can fill the edge coming even closer, the coil in your gut growing tighter and tighter. One arm resting beside you, the other reaching down to rub against your clit, and you find yourself tumbling over the edge “Nai!” As the coil inside you bursts, and you find yourself in a haze, while Nai continues his thrusts before panting your name against your ear and freezing.

When you come back to your senses, Nai isn’t inside you anymore, or near you. The sound of water running reaches your ears, noticing your hands are still tied to the bed, Nai reappearing to wipe away your shared release from between your thighs. “How are you feeling, Pet?” Cleaned up and in his boxers you snort as he finally reaches up to untie your wrists, rubbing the soft skin of the first one once it’s free from the bonds he’d placed you in.

“Better.” Once the other wrist is released you’re rubbing them both and watching Nai head back into your bathroom with the washcloth he’d used to clean you up. Following after him to pull a set of your pajamas on. Looking at the time, it’s almost one am, damn. You’re glad tomorrow is saturday. “Are you heading home?” You almost jump out of your skin, feeling his hands slide down your sides and his chin resting against the top of your head.

“No. You’re still flustered from your day. I’m staying here tonight.” His voice is soft, but with the way he’s pressed around you, the rumble from his chest shakes through your frame. “You need water, then bed.” His head shifts so he can whisper in your ear, nosing at the shell.

“Alright then.” Giggling as he starts to maneuver you to the bed, refusing to let you separate more than inch from him before he’s making you sip from the water bottle you’d missed on your night stand. Once in bed, spooning you do find it funny. Once of the most dangerous men in the city, and you’re happiest curled up in his arms. Must say something about you too.

Back to masterlist

#millions knives smut #millions knives x reader #millions knives x reader smut #modern au #trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #trigun smut #twink writes #knives smut #millions knives #knives x reader

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thebawdybaldurian · 3 months

Text

BG3FicFeb Day 10

Both fairly short, but double the Tavhalstarion!

SFW: As the companions prepare to storm Cazador's Palace and stop his Black Mass, Tav, Halsin, and Astarion share a tearful kiss.

NSFW: Tav and Halsin enjoy some alone time in the park, leading to their first intimate encounter.

SFW: A tearful, hard kiss before battle

They’d watched the entrance to Szarr Palace for a few hours, as a trickle of high society guests arrived in carriages. It seemed slightly odd that there would be a party when the Black Mass was supposed to occur, but Cazador was anything but predictable. Perhaps it was just a to ruse to catch Astarion off guard. His former master had to know that the other spawn had revealed the date of the Mass and Astarion’s vow to kill him. He would be waiting for them.

Astarion fiddled with his hands nervously as it appeared that the final guest had arrived and the front gates were closed. “Is it time?” Tav was equally nervous, right at his side.

“I…I think so,” Astarion gulped. “Should we go over the plans and contingencies again…or just scrap the whole damn thing…Gods damnit.”

“It’s alright,” Halsin touched his shoulder gently. He was nervous as well, but kept his demeanor calm. “We can do this. We just need to stick together, stay calm.”

“My spells are fully charged,” Shadowheart nodded. She wanted to give the trio some brief privacy, knowing how much they cared for one another. “I’m just going to do a quick prayer,” she excused herself.

“We’re going to do this…I promise,” Tav grabbed Astarion’s face, trying to hide the worry in the pit of her stomach. She knew she’d fight to the death to free her lover from the man who’d tortured him for nearly 200 years, but if she still somehow lost him after all this, she didn’t know if she could go on.

“I just need you to know how much I love you…just in case,” he replied, beginning to tremble, his eyes watering.

“I will love you, always, no matter what happens,” she kissed him deeply, holding him as tightly as she could as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Halsin embraced them, his long arms able to wrap around both of them completely. They stayed wrapped in one another until they heard Shadowheart return. “The Gur have begun to arrive, I saw a few of them climbing the watch tower.”

“Let’s go then,” Astarion nodded, squeezing his lovers one last time.

NSFW: first time after a love confession

Background: With Cazador dead, Astarion has allowed his heart to reopen completely, both to his long-time lover Tav (aka Clataedre) and his tentative new partner, Halsin, who he hasn’t been intimate with yet.

Content Warnings: Male elf x Male elf. Fondling, oral sex, deep throating public sex.

“This is nice, actually,” Astarion walked beside Halsin, their hands clasped together. “Taking some actual time to ourselves…without Tav, I mean.”

“I think she appreciates having some alone time,” Halsin smiled, enjoying the view of the park as well as the company.

“She said she was going to use the time to finally clean her cottage up and down, but…well, you know her. She’s probably dancing around naked eating pie,” Astarion grinned.

“Perhaps we should head back early to surprise her?” Halsin laughed. “I’d like to see that.” They found a bench to sit on and settled next to one another. “Thank you for bringing me here. I was never one for cities, but this place is peaceful.”

“This is the only nature I can stand,” Astarion teased. “Tamed and manicured.”

“You should embrace the wildness from time to time,” Halsin glanced at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Is that a come on?” Astarion looked back at him with a seductive grin.

“Perhaps it is,” Halsin leaned in to kiss him, their tongues meeting after their lips did.

“Mmm,” Astarion let out a longing sigh. “I was thinking…about what you said last night…after dinner. That you loved me…”

“You don’t need to say it back,” Halsin stroked the outer edge of his ear gently. “I know you are still working through things with Clataedre and things are still so new with us.”

“I want to say it,” Astarion took both his hands in his. “I love you. I don’t know what the Hells I am doing, in love with two people at the same time, but…”

“We don’t need to figure it all out right away,” Halsin kissed him again, pulling him closer.

They made out for a bit, their hands caressing each other above the waist. They’d yet to be intimate, but this felt like the right time, among the nature Halsin enjoyed so much. “I want you,” Astarion finally pulled away, his hands moving down to linger near Halsin’s waist. “Right here.”

“You’re sure?” Halsin looked at him, his balls beginning to tingle. “We could go somewhere private…more romantic?”

“I want to embrace the wildness,” Astarion grinned, letting his hands slide down to caress Halsin’s groin.

They kissed again, voraciously, as he rubbed Halsin hard. He took him by the hand and led him to a small grove of trees across from them that would give them a little privacy. He pressed Halsin against the trunk of the biggest tree, going to his knees and unbuttoning his leather pants. “Hmmm,” he grinned as Halsin’s enormous cock sprung free. “Tav said you were big…but I had no idea how big.”

“If you don’t ever feel comfortable with…” Halsin looked down at him, letting out a low gasp when Astarion tongued the pre-cum from his head. “Oh…”

“Just…if you could…talk to me…” Astarion tongued down his shaft. “The whole time…I…it helps when Tav does it.”

“Of course, my heart,” Halsin nodded, taking in a long breath as Astarion wrapped his lips around him, mindful of his fangs. “Gods, you feel nice…that’s…mmmm,” he moaned as Astarion gave his balls a gentle and familiar squeeze. “Has Tav been…ummmff…teaching you her techniques?”

“I watch her in the mirror,” Astarion grinned, teasing his tongue along him again. “I don’t have her rhythm…but.”

“You feel amazing,” Halsin grinned widely as he took him in again.

Halsin continued to praise him as he sucked and stroked him slowly, the pressure in his balls growing. “Mmm, don’t stop…hhhnnn, please, oh,” Halsin moaned loudly as Astarion sucked him urgently. “May I…ahhh-nnnn, come in your mouth?”

“Please,” Astarion sucked his head greedily.

Halsin exploded inside him, filling his mouth completely with his warm seed. It was the first time Astarion had tasted cum he actually enjoyed and he swallowed it with a wide smile. “You taste sweet,” he suckled every last drop from Halsin’s cock.

“I suspect it is from all the honey,” Halsin glowed happily, teasing his thumb across Astarion’s wet lips. “Thank you, my heart…now…I must repay your effort.”

He leaned down, pressing Astarion into the grass and reaching for his trouser buttons. His excited cock sprung free with ease. “Beautiful…perfect,” Halsin looked over his smooth, pale cock. The head was rosy pink from excitement and made Halsin’s spine tingle. “Clataedre is my beautiful, blushing rose…but you…my blushing mushroom, I suppose,” he grinned and nuzzled the pink tip, teasing his tongue just underneath it.

“She never shuts up about it,” Astarion grinned, biting into his lip as Halsin’s mouth engulfed him. “Ahhh, fuck!” He swore as he felt himself sliding into Halsin’s throat, enveloped to the hilt of his cock. “Dear Gods, you can take it all…”

Halsin hummed happily, sliding him back out completely.

“It’s not too much, is it?”

“Gods no,” Astarion quivered. “But I won’t last long.”

“Then I will make sure it is worth it,” Halsin grinned, deep throating him again.

Astarion gripped a handful of his hair, moving his hips slightly along with the strokes of Halsin’s mouth. “Fuck…oh fuck,” Astarion fucked his mouth, ready to explode at any moment. “MMmmfffppp,” he spurted out in a long, trembling moan that scattered the roosting birds in the trees above them. Their flapping wings almost sounded like applause for the performance of the Druid’s throat.

“Was that alright for a first time?” Halsin looked up at him with a grin.

“It was incredible, my love,” Astarion glanced down at him and then sunk into the grass, utterly spent.

They heard some curious giggles from nearby, someone clearly overhearing Astarion’s ovation, and collected themselves, stowing their limp and satisfied cocks for now. They headed back to Tav’s cottage with their arm around one another, peeking in one of the windows before entering. “You were right,” Halsin smiled, the only one tall enough to see through the kitchen window, as the ground graded downward.

“Dancing naked?” Astarion tried to stand on his tiptoes to see.

“And folding laundry it seems…so she must have got something accomplished.”

“I think she deserves a treat then,” Astarion grinned as Halsin gave him a slight boost so he could see as well.

“Something sweet…or…” Halsin eyed her naked body, currently twirling a stocking over her head and gyrating her hips along to whatever song she was singing aloud.

“Both of us…at the same time,” Astarion smirked, tapping on the window to draw her attention.

She shrieked from inside, hurling the stocking in the air. “What in the Hells are you doing out here?” She flung open the window, her face bright red.

“Enjoying a good show,” Astarion grinned, still propped up on Halsin’s thigh. “Why don’t you put some clothes on and join us outside so we can go to dinner? We have a fun night planned for you.”

“Oh yeah…another roll in the grass?” She grinned widely, picking a piece of it out of Astarion’s curls as he blushed. She shut the window and grabbed some clothes, pleased they had finally done it.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bloodoak #halsin x astarion #halstarion #tavhalstarion #halsin silverbough #tav x astarion x halsin #bg3ficfeb

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emetoniche · 1 year

Text

Sorry for being afk for such a long time, I kinda lost motivation to write stuff. I return to you with a short AxB emetic fic that will hopefully make up for the time I’ve been gone! (Warning: super fluff ahead)

— * — * — * — * — * — * — * — * — * — * — * — * — * — * — * — * — *

tw: heavy emeto stuff

A is curled up on their bed, bucket between their knees, arms wrapped around the outer edge. Soft groans escape from between their lips as their stomach gives a jerky lurch. They’ve felt sick all day, but hasn’t thrown up yet. The feeling had just come over them a few minutes ago. They don’t want to alert B to the issue, because they know B has been really busy lately and is finally getting a chance to relax. B was out sitting on the couch right now, and as much as A wanted their partner beside them, they weren’t going to call out.

A’s mouth floods with a sticky, thick saliva that hangs from their bottom lip in ropes, dangling into the bucket. They moan again, but they recognize the feeling of imminent vomiting. They sit up a bit straighter over the bucket, checking to make sure their hair is out of the way. A’s breathing quickens, becomes more shallow until their chest and stomach give a violent heave and the toast they had earlier rushes into their mouth.

A gives a horrendous sounding retch; the toast was still so undigested that it stuck in their throat, coming out as a sludge and falling into the bucket with a heavy plop. Sounds of scrambling come from the other room. A tries to keep quiet, but the next retch is equally loud, sending a fountain of projectile vomit cascading into the container.

The door slams open as B rushes in, eyes wide. They see A over the bucket with puke bits still clinging to their lips, and hurry over to the bed. B wraps A in their arms, one hand on their back and the other on their stomach, gently massaging to encourage the offending substance out a bit easier. “I’m so-s-sorry,” A chokes out as their shoulder hitch and their stomach slams inward. B shakes their head, giving A a kiss on the temple. “Don’t be baby, you should have called for me when you started feeling like you had to throw up,” B says soothingly. A nods, or tries to at least. The movement sends a liquid gush out of their mouth, some missing the bucket and splashing onto their clothes and the sheets. “And don’t worry about that either,” B adds. “I’ll get it cleaned up when you’re done.” A spends a few more minutes with their stomach trying to expel every tiny bit, eventually receding into vague dry heaves. When they are finished, they collapse backward into B’s arms, eyes closed from the exertion and the sheer feeling of overall awfulness. “It’s ok baby, I promise,” B whispers, holding A closer to them.

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ofherlionheart · 10 months

Text

feeling spicy, have a ch4 tidbit if you’d like:

Zuko stops where the dirt falls away, and Sokka meets him at the edge, tilting his head back to squint up at him. “We gonna have dinner tonight?” he teases.

Zuko snorts. “Wouldn’t it also be a poor reflection of your teaching if we didn’t?”

“Good thing I’m a good teacher.” He frowns at Zuko’s right leg. “You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?”

Zuko twists to look at his calf, and he is bleeding — scrapes too shallow for him to notice before now drip down to his ankle. “I slipped,” he admits.

“Turn around?”

Zuko obliges, and Sokka whistles. “Got your arm and back, too,” he says. “We should clean those.”

Zuko turns again, shifting so his shadow blocks the sun from Sokka’s eyes. “Come with me?”

The spring-fed stream is refreshingly cold. Zuko is careful to remain still as Sokka helps clean the wound on his back; he’s able to take care of his calf and his left forearm himself. As he squats at the edge of the water and rubs the rust from his arm, Sokka strips to his undergarment and wades directly into the stream to scrub the day’s dirt from his skin. “Ahh, that feels good,” he sighs.

Zuko watches as he splashes water on his face and then stands tall, reaching his arms to the sky to stretch his back. In the dying sunlight, the shadows that hug the curve of his arms and the cut of his shoulder blades are dramatic and deep; how they twist and morph with Sokka’s motion is almost breathtaking.

Hurt zings up Zuko’s arm, and he hisses, yanking his hand away from his wound.

“You okay?”

The cuts on his outer forearm are deeper than those on his back or leg; he touches the skin near the angry red lines carefully, testing the edges of his pain. “I’m fine.”

There’s the slosh of water, and then Sokka’s crouching in front of him, a hand cupping Zuko’s elbow to raise his forearm closer to Sokka’s sightline. He hums thoughtfully. “There’s still some grit in there.”

With his free hand, he cups water from the stream and pours it over Zuko’s arm. Zuko can’t help his flinch, and Sokka murmurs Sorry, sorry, until he’s finished. He lowers Zuko’s arm but doesn’t let go of his elbow, his thumb massaging the inside of the joint. “Might actually get a scar from that one.”

“I don’t mind.” It’s a scar with a funny story, at least.

Sokka nods seriously. “A hunter should always be proud of his scars.”

Zuko snorts, and Sokka breaks into laughter, dropping his elbow and flopping back into the stream.

#like the sun inside of you #mine #remember when i was asking abt lobster kani #that's related to this #[insert summertime magic by childish gambino]#atla #writing

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spyridonya · 1 year

Text

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @silversiren1101 and @dujour13! I’m utterly stuck on Tango. I’ve written out the next chapter, I’m revising it, and I have just one minor issue.

Here’s a small bit of it so far. Just this side of work safe despite it being a smutty fic.

As soon as the cat weaved his away into the hallway and Kadira shut the door, Daeran sat down along the edge of the bed to reach for a boot-jack inlaid with mother of pearl that found a home on one of the nightstands. The quality of the work suggested it was likely from the count's own collection... making it yet another thing that turned knots in Lann’s stomach.

How many personal effects in this room were Daeran's?

"She spoils that creature," The count complained as he began to attack his boots, though his chartreuse gaze settled on Lann, "Somehow our illustrious commander secured a ration of blueberries from down south and despite her generous and compassionate nature, she finds herself at a loss to share them."

Daeran's boot fell to the floor.

"You don't deserve them, Daeran," Kadira proclaimed brightly as she hung Lann's cloak neatly along the wall before taking off her own. Tonight she had worn an outer dress of green damask that hugged the narrow of her waist and showed generous curves. The tip of her tail swung from under her skirt, making Lann pull his eyes away from the sway of her step, "Tiger keeps mice and quasits at bay and deserve the extra love."

The count shared a sly smile with Lann, as if they were not undressing in the commander's private quarters, but gathered around the campfire. "Should we be concerned where you acquired such contraband?" The second boot thudded to the ground and the count stretched his long form, and Lann found himself watching the curve of the aasimar’s throat.

"Lann,” He tore his gaze away to look at Kadira's face, “Tell my other guest I'm not answering that." The tiefling had made her way to the side of another nightstand, her long fingers busy in pulling pins from her hair to release her curls like spilled ink.

A smile was fighting on her lips.

A wry smile settled on Lann's face and he turned to the person of attention, "Daeran, she won’t tell me, but she likely bought them from Wilcer after requesting them for the soldiers for a dessert in the next few days," Banter was something he could do, and his tone grew gravely serious as he made careful steps to the center of the room, his human hand settled upon the back of one of the chairs, "She might even have paid him with the crown’s gold."

"Gold," Daeran murmured, his disgust barely cloaked in his tone, mirroring the seriousness of Lann's though the count’s green gaze had fallen into his work of undoing his belt, "Of course she would pay with the lawful currency of the land. The depravity."

“And neither of you are getting any," Kadee giggled as she removed the last pin from her hair.

The silence was warm after that, though the mongrel still found himself studying the room as he gathered his thoughts. Behind the statue of the songbird, a tool kit sat on clean cloth with said tools polished and shining, obviously well loved. Curious, Lann looked up to ask Kadira what it was.

Instead, Lann caught Daeran dropping his belt to the floor while Kadee worked the laces off her of her green kirtle. For a long moment the hunter stood there, fascinated by their movements of simple undressing and exposure of rose gold and pomegranate flesh. Both the commander and the count were so stupidly beautiful.

Tagging: @aparticularbandit, @dmagedgoods, @undyingembers And open to anyone!

#character: daeran arendae #character: lann the mongrel #character: knight commander kadira

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seasurfacefullofclouds1 · 1 year

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Okay but by which song you were most impressed by in terms of vocals? (not including bigger than me). Were there moments when you were like “whoa” or you weren’t surprised at all?

Hi anon!

Very late with this answer. I hope this is okay! My outstanding vocal moments from Faith In The Future:

1. The Greatest: “Through that circle 'round my heart/ Where the best of me should start.” The way he vocalizes “circle,” and “best of me,” the syllables almost a rebellious spit. Of course the chorus is effortless and spectacular!

2. Written All Over Your Face: “Hey. Babe.” This whole first pre-chorus is vocal foreplay— sexy, feral, slinky Louis is HERE, and he’s gonna make people lose it on tour. “‘Cause the atmosphere’s so ccccxold.” Ugh. YOU KNOW??

This man made everyone’s thighs quiver and you all know what I mean…

3. Bigger Than Me: Louis established his tenor belting dominance in his lead single. Clean, rich, bell-like, not “thin” or “delicate” or any of those diminutive adjectives. His voice is a huge, clarion meteor. But also the bridge??? Amazing contrast.

4. Lucky Again: the whole first verse and pre-chorus. Louis’ voice is as sweet as jasmine, as smooth as rum. This man is feeding us amuses bouches on a summer day.

5. Face The Music: “One more night,” the way Louis sings “night” reminds me so much of his 1D solos, and it’s so so so nostalgic.

6. Chicago: a man who rhymes “did ya” with “okay,” the stoic first verse with such soft, throwaway tenderness, “Just wasn’t meant to be.” His accent feels very personal and wounded throughout the song and yes it offends me, personally.

7. All This Time: “When it get colds,”— Louis’ half-crying, half-smiling delivery throughout this song is beyond ethereal. Only Louis can do this with his voice: make you smile and cry and laugh and sob with one verse. He is a magician. Also that little moan at the end?

8. Out Of My System: like Louis said, you can hear the bit of roughness in the way he sings “system,” a gravelly fry at the outer edges. I still can’t believe he vocalized it at 11 PM or Midnight or whatever somewhere in a studio in Berlin. He’s a madman.

9. Headline: the way he sings, “kindness,” “So faaaaast to judge,” it’s like the spring wind brushing up against the hairs on your arm, ticklish and spooky, unexpected. When he whines, “Head—line,” omgggg? “But I cahn’t forget ya.” You know? You know?!?!? Sometimes words aren’t enough?

10. Saturdays: each time Louis sings, “Some things change,” he’s pleading for things not to change, even though we know they will, so every repetition cuts even deeper and hurts more. The last time he sings it, his voice is incredible sweet and resigned.

11. Silver Tongues: “on-lay we know.” The exuberance in the voice has the energy of fireworks.

12. She Is Beauty We Are World Class: “Square eyes in sunglasses”— the way he sings it is so funny. I don’t know why; it’s just so whacky. “Are we one or two/ are we me or are we you”— I want to trip out with Louis so bad. The underwater quality of the “surrounded by light” as the voice rises to the surface reminds me of this merch:

13. Common People: the way he sings the first verse is like he’s singing close to your ear, telling you about his life. I love this intimacy.

14. Angels Fly: the way his voice changed from the beginning to the end of this:

from stating an argument to softening, becoming more intimate, a gentle pat on the back. And the way he sings, “Look at the horizon/ does it make you feel small?” is reassuring, comforting. Feels like a hug.

15. Holding Onto Heartache: the bridge! The way he shouts out the lyrics as if he’s losing control sounds almost like an exorcism, and it is absolutely cathartic.

16. Change: I love the vocals top to bottom on this song, especially the very reverb-y quality of the production. It’s an amazing acoustic song as well. On the studio recording when Louis sings, “It’s such a shame,” he cracks his voice on the word “shame,” and it sounds like a cry/smile/sigh. The vocal magic of that moment! On Change, Louis also sings his own lovely harmonizations. The “ahhhhh” of the intro and outro are perfect.

17. Paradise: I just do not find this a compelling song (sorry).

18. That’s The Way Love Goes: the first couple of times Louis performed this song live, besides the raw nerves, we can hear the real and deep affection Louis has for his friend. Even if this is an imaginary scenario, the affection is so real.

19. Copy Of A Copt Of A Copy: that 9th interval leap to “Young man” is always so shocking (a slap to the the face), so abrasive and comforting at the same time. It’s spectacular live.

20. High In California: I love the way his voice sounds like summer in LA, chill, languorous, salty by the beach, the air thick and hot on the highway, thin and breezy on top. The “ayyyyyyyyy” arpeggiation is something Louis hasn’t done before; the deconstructed minor 7th chords are loose and lovely. “They always said it’s so bad for me/ everything I try makes me feel alive// Spend my whole life just thinking I had to change.” The queercoding in the lyrics is obvious and heartbreaking.

21. Saved By A Stranger: “Someone else’s fantasy/ Is nothing like reality, I know that// For a moment, stay with me/ And let me feel the freedom that you’re holding.” Everything about this song is devastating. Rhyming “fantasy” with “stay with me” and the internal rhyme with “[free]dom”: I think that says everything about how fandom’s fantasies have been deeply harmful.

22. Holiday: this sounds like a brash teen Louis who’s very much in awe of Alex Turner.

#Fitf song by song #Fitf vocals #louis vocals #louis tomlinson #30 december 2022

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thecandywrites · 2 years

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Anastaschia- High Priestess of Luna Chapter 2

Ok, top left corner- is our big Papa Bear- Sir Broman McGee, who is a knight through and through. Because our Stasi needs one hell of a father to make up for the piece of shit that sired her. And Selene needs a man who will prove that not all men are abject garbage.

Chapter 2

For two weeks your mother and yourself fled on foot, stopping only to rest a short while during the day, in safe spaces where you were hidden by the underbrush and fallen trees around you so you would be hidden from any other who would be in the forest as the animals themselves seemed to branch off and find new homes in the new parts of the forest, far away from the hunters from the army. You ate wild berries and other wild edible foods when you found them, washed in the creeks and rivers as you crossed them. You only stole what you could quickly grab from the gardens at night of the first four villages along the way to keep yourselves from growing too hungry when all the food you both had packed had run out.

But the music Luna played when you saw the first four villages was bad- foreboding music and it was a sign that Luna had seen the village and knew that it was no place for either of you to call home, or that the coming army would come to ravage this village also.

You crossed your father’s homeland’s border undetected but still gave the first two villages you found past it a wide berth because many who had fled the army before from the other villages had also come there. They had refugee camps that many of the village’s men could use as their own brothel in exchange for food and clothing. And Luna knew that you and your mother would be victims of rape if you stayed in them.

But at the third village inside the border, the music was happy and peaceful. There was a castle of stones that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. And the village around it was as large as all the other villages you had crossed so far combined and your mother said it was so big it should be considered a city. Cities were good, they were large and should have merchants who visited regularly and that the people of the city shouldn’t bat an eye or think twice about seeing an unfamiliar face and it would be easier to blend in- in it.

“We made it Mama! We’re home!” You cheered excitedly when you saw it at the edge of the woods.

“We might be. But first, we must get cleaned up and get ready to approach it. I will need you to help me talk to them. For they will know a version of your father’s language. So you will be able to speak to them best. I will need you to speak for me. Luna says that she will translate their words for us to understand and she will help you find the right words to speak so we can communicate accurately. Once we get cleaned up, we will go to the castle. We will ask if they have room in the city for another dyer. We will show them our best work and show them the book we have made that shows what colors we do in order to show them what we can do. If they say yes- then we will find a place to stay. If they say no- then Luna will show us another place to call home and we can sell the extra bottles of dye concentrate to the city’s dyers to at least get enough money to buy more food for our journey to the next place Luna could take us to.” Your mother instructed you before she brought you to a creek and washed both of you and your clothes in the creek. She braided your hair in a special pretty braid before she braided her own hair in a similar way.

Once your clothes were dry, she got you both dressed and put your cloaks away and bravely, the two of you walked into the village, through one of the main gates since there was a wall around the castle and a smaller wall around most of the city with some settlements being outside the outer wall belonging to farmers so they had easy access to pasture. The castle walls had a gate in each direction and roads coming to and from it and another wall around the city itself through many gates, on many roads, all of them guarded. Many others were coming in and leaving as the guards looked at you and your mother curiously as you walked into the city but were not stopped and questioned.

Once inside the outer gate, you were happy when you saw all manner of people here. You saw not just humans but merchants that were Elf, Orc, Rakshasi, Gnoll, Dwarf, Troll and many more you couldn’t know. Your father’s village had been a human only village but even there, your mother and yourself stood out. So here, you didn’t feel like you stood out that much anymore. But while you saw many kinds of humans, none were quite like you. Some had the fair skin you did, but not the dark hair. Or others had the black hair but not the pale skin. And none had the same eyes that looked like the full moon. But with such variety, surely your eyes wouldn’t be something that others would be disgusted or weary of.

However, most of the people stopped to stare at you but once you gave them a friendly smile, they returned it easily enough. Even the non humans stopped and stared in surprised awe at you and your mother, dressed in clothes that were styled like something that they couldn’t quite put a finger on exactly where they had seen such styles. But very few had ever seen the kind of material your clothes were made of.

You finally made it to the outerwall of the castle to the gate that had it’s drawbridge down and other merchants and business owners were passing on it without any kind of problem or interference, usually with just a look and a nod.

“Halt! What business do you have here?” One of the guards questioned you as your mother and yourself tried to cross the drawbridge that covered a moat.

You looked anxiously at your mother for help for her to tell you what to do but all your mother did in response was to look pointedly from him to you to answer him. But all you saw was his weapons pointed at you- you panicked and became fearful since you suddenly stopped hearing anything from Luna. No words, no music, nothing.

“Um, we… we..” You stuttered and stammered nervously as the soldiers moved their weapons closer to you with a wicked smirk to see you so visibly scared before you finally heard Luna’s voice-

“My child, a savior and protector, is coming to help you.” Luna whispered in your head as you looked past them to see a slightly older man, he had hair and a beard as red and orange as fire itself. He was very tall, and very big, his chest was like a barrel that your father would drink wine and ale from at the taverns. But upon hearing the soldier’s inquiry curiously turned his head and came over to investigate. He had his hair cut short, with bits of gray starting to streak in his hair and large bushy beard. He looked even meaner than the guards that were threatening you. He practically towered over them, most of their heads only came up to his shoulders. He was in full plate armor with a thick layer of chainmail under it on his body with his helmet on a loop on his waist, but upon seeing you, he blinked in surprise then looked at the others and his face set into a hard glare as he came over to you and to the other guards.

“What in the seven hells is wrong with you?! That is a young innocent child! Have you no sense?! Why would you put your sword in her face like that?! What threat could they possibly pose?!” He barked at them before they stopped and quickly put their weapons away and straightened up a nd tried to apologize.

But he was already furious with them and he yelled at them some more- in more words you didn’t know or understand but his tone and the way the guards reacted showed that they were just as scared of him as you had been of their weapons, if not more so. Even their knees began to buckle and shake, causing with bits of armor they were wearing- causing it to clatter as they shook like a leaf and cowered towards him and under his scruitiny.

Then he started dishing out punishments, which Luna translated for you- which was to cart away the human manure from the privies in the castle for weeks. And if they tried to argue or beg or plead for mercy or leniency, he either gave them worse jobs for longer or simply told them to do it for the next several months. He was obviously their superior and he was taking their treatment of you- a stranger to himself but a child nonetheless- as a personal insult and an insult to the honor and pride of their city and their castle guard code of honor and the honor of the Lord and Lady and threatened to report their behavior to the Lord and Lady and have them removed from their post and their wages stripped and given to the poor. And did so- so loudly that every guard within earshot and even the ones on top of the wall overlooking the gate could hear and quietly snickered their laughter at the expense of the offenders and insisted that they too would bear witness to back this overseer’s claims.

“I’m very sorry about their rude behavior. What can I do for you Miss?” He asked you after he got done yelling at them. But his words and tone towards you was completely different. It was soft, gentle and even kind. He even put on a friendly and inviting and pleasant expression to help you not be so afraid of him as you had to crane your head all the way to look up at him before he took a knee so he would be more or less eye level with you to help himself not look so intimidating to you.

“Here he is my child. He is your protector and savior, you can trust him. Talk to him. He will help you.” Luna encouraged you before she helped you find the right words to say to him.

“We, my mother and I, we..um…my father dead, father’s father and mother all dead, family all dead. War…war burned our village down. We..we got out, we ran um, before-um, before army could hurt me, force me to lay in soldier’s tent and before they make mother do the same. We..travel here, we spent all money trying to get here. We have nothing except what we were able to grab before we leave. We ask..we came to ask, King and Queen of castle- to change cloth.” You stuttered as you gestured to show the words you were having difficulty saying in his version of your father’s native tongue of Flannish. Then you picked up your own clothes and held it tightly in your fists.

“We change color of cloth, for more money, for food and for…for house.” You managed to say in the same accent he was speaking in- of the dialect of Flannish he spoke as you prayed that Luna helped you to say the right words in the right way but his face showed that he understood what you were saying and was nodding in understanding.

“Ok. We will ask. I’m sure there is enough room for you here.” He reassured you with the same surprising kindness and gentleness.

“Let them through, they are refugees. They have a trade, they only wish to ask the Lord and Lady if they may practice their trade here. You shouldn’t have stopped them.” He insisted before the guards nodded and moved aside so you could pass. The overseer gestured for you to go in before you grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it before you put it to your forehead.

“Thank you for listening and understanding despite.. different words.” You thanked him earnestly as his smile was so soft and tender since such an action was practically melting him from the inside out.

“You’re welcome, come, I will take you to them myself.” He insisted as he didn’t want to let your little hand go, he was adamant he was going to get you into the Lord and Lady’s court as soon as possible because the man had nieces and nephews your age and all he could think of is if the same thing had befallen them, he would hope that they would be given the same kindness and courtesy.

“What’s your name?” He asked as you smiled and continued to hold his hand with one hand and hold your mother’s hand with your other hand. You didn’t want to let go of the one person who Luna told you was your protector and savior. She told you that he was a good man with a good heart. Who may not be handsome in face, but was handsome in personality. And who would never hurt you or harm you or your mother, and that he was trustworthy and dependable as you reached up as high as your little arm could go to keep ahold of his hand since he was so tall, but you could still hold it comfortably, even though your own little hand seemed to be swallowed up by his own hand. But he held your hand with a surprising amount of gentleness yet firm enough to keep you close and keep you safe.

“My name?” You tried to repeat back to him with the same accent as he nodded.

“Anastaschia. My father called me Annie, my mother calls me Stasi for short. I prefer Stasi though.” You answered.

“Oh wow. That’s quite the name Stasi. What’s your mother’s name?” He asked.

“Seleneeschia. But she can go by Selene for short though.” You answered.

“Oh wow, ok then. Very pretty names.” He praised as he knew he would butcher if he even tried to say such pretty names as that, even as foreign to him as they were.

“Your name?” You asked him as he led you through the castle with just a wave of his hand, meant that none of you got stopped and could keep on walking.

“I’m Sir Broman McGee, I’m a knight for Lord and Lady Bathes, Captain of the Castle Guard.” He answered before you tried a couple times to pronounce his name correctly back at him before you finally got it right.

“Perfect, that’s how you say it.” He praised before he got to the Great Hall of Castle Gronloe and spoke to the doorman of who he had with them and why you were here, even if he had to make the petition himself.

“Ok, I’m gonna go ahead and introduce you to the Lord and Lady of the Castle, their names are Lord and Lady Bathes and then when they call you- you come and stand next to me ok?” Broman offered.

“Ok.” You nodded before you reluctantly let go of his hand so he could approach the Lord and Lady as they sat on their special high and carved chairs with a series of things laid out on the table between the two chairs.

“Captain McGee, what petition do you have?” Lord Bathes requested curiously because Captain McGee had never really made any kind of petition at their court before, even as decorated as a knight and champion as he was, so for them, they were curious to see what it would be.

“Two refugees have come to Hestra. A widow and her daughter, by the names of- what I can pronounce- Selene and Stasi. They are fleeing a war that burned their village to the ground. They are dyers by trade. They wish to take up residence and practice their trade here.” Broman explained.

“But we already have dyers.” Lady Bathes frowned before an elven woman, who was standing tall and could see over the crowd that was in the hall- could see you and your mother, and in particular- saw what you were wearing. Her eyes got wide in excitement because it had been a very long time since she saw such splendid fabric. So she bent over and whispered to Lady Bathes.

“My Lady- you will want these dyers in Hestra. Just see for yourself what they might be capable of.” She suggested.

“Very well, have them come forward.” The Lord decided as he motioned and Broman looked back to your mother and beckoned you both over before you bravely took your mother’s hand and stepped forward before those in the hall seemed to part for you.

You and your mother walked up to them and the light streaming into the windows came in at just the right angle to make the moon muga silk of your clothes shine, glimmer and gleam with gold in the tan and almost a shimmer of an ivory pearl too of the fabric. It even had hidden patterns in the fabric that the Lord and Lady both gasped to see it before your mother and yourself bowed respectfully as even Broman was in awe to see your clothes for what they really were.

Especially since he had been previously too preoccupied at seeing your precious face and think you were just darling and adorable. And when he found that you were fatherless- he had instantly wanted to adopt you. Because his fatherly instincts in himself had been awakened and kicked into gear the moment he saw you. As if you were his child borne to him and he got to see you for the first time out of the womb after waiting his whole life to meet you. And even if the Lord and Lady were disinterested, he would find a way to help you stay in Hestra. If only to look after you to protect you from any and all others because the thought of any other causing you or your almost distractingly beautiful mother harm was outright abhorrent to him.

“What is that cloth that they are wearing?” Lady Bathes asked her other women of the court as they stared at it too.

“Oh my gods, that’s beautiful fabric with even prettier maids wearing it.” Lord Bathes praised which earned a quick but almost undetected by everyone else except you, when you saw it and at once realized the true intention of Lord Bathe's flattering words. But you could not offer offense. But instead pretended that you didn't see it and put on a pleasant smile nonetheless.

“How is such fabric even made? It's like pearls and strands if gold are woven into the fabric in a brocade.” Lady Bathes asked the others.

“I have no idea. It’s a closely guarded secret among most weavers. But I think it has to have a very special thread.” Her ladies answered

“My mother- she calls this cloth- moon muga silk. It comes from worms that turn into butterflies.” You tried to answer them.

“Ah, it’s silk. From caterpillars. And in the world of silk- muga is the rarest with moon muga being the most sublime because the fabric practically glows with light, as you can see. It’s famous in the great cities, and comes from the spice countries. From what I understand, the muga moths are only in the wild, not like mulberry silk moths that have been domesticated. It’s notoriously hard to work with, and that color is it’s natural color but obviously it’s been woven into brocade. It’s also very hard to dye but when one can dye muga silk. They can dye anything. Even dragon silk.” The elven lady supplied.

“So, this is what my mother and I can do.” You began before your mother handed you her book that she used little swatches of fabrics of every color in the rainbow and beyond.

"May I show you?” You asked as you held the book out to them.

“Yes please, come child.” They warmly invited before you put the book down on the small table between them and turned the pages, telling them the names you knew for the colors as they gently corrected you about what the “proper” names of those colors were in their language. And each color came with swatches of what that color looked like on various kinds of fabrics. And how long it took to dye each color. And how hard it was to get certain shades of certain colors and therefore which colors were the most costly because of ingredients and labor involved as the Lord and Lady had never seen such a huge array of hues. Because the dyers here could only do a small fraction of this and the dyes themselves had to be redone every year. But you said that your colors stayed true no matter how many times they would be washed because your process permanently fixed the color to the fabric. And that the fixer to get the color to stay was half the cost of the dying fees and half of the dying time because it was a very special blend. But once a fabric was dyed and fixed into that color, then, as long as they didn’t use bleach on the fabric- it would stay that way, even in direct sunlight. Especially the reds since the reds always faded in the sun quickest. But that the reds your mother and yourself made- never did.

“If you provide cloth, we provide color.” You finished.

“My Lady, these are clearly master dyers. To let them go to any other city will be Hestra’s loss.” Lady Bathes' other ladies of her court urged her as even Lord Bathes’ men did the same.

“So what do you need?” Lord Bathes asked you.

“My mother and I need a home. And a place to grow our plants that we get these colors from but some of the plants are toxic, so the garden must be protected so others can not accidentally poison others. And a space, probably away from others, because the smell of work is bad. But the cloth needs to be washed, so a home with lots of water. And to be able to charge a fair price for our hard work because things to dye are expensive to buy and make. But we need to not pay too much in rent so we have money for food for ourselves. Please.” You requested.

“Oh that can be arranged. We have the perfect place for you. Captain McGee, if you would be so kind as to take them to the house that the old leather worker- Landy Brollins used to have before he died. It should be cleaned out by now and there shouldn’t be too many neighbors in that neighborhood. And if they need more space, they can expand if they need to. When you have settled, come back and let us know you are ready to work, and once you have dyed our fabrics first to our liking, you shall get a seal to sell your trade in all of Hestra and become part of the dyer guild. By all means, charge the people of Hestra a fair price for your trade. And your rent shall be according to your profits because of your high expenses.” Lord Bathes decided.

“Hand?” You asked him as you reached out your hand to him before he curiously gave you his hand as you kissed the back of it and put your forehead to it.

“Thank you for listening and understanding. Blessings be to you.” You thanked him.

“Oh you sweet angel. Of course.” He offered before you did the same to Lady Bathes which she thought was particularly darling and it quickly endeared you to both of them.

“Gift?” You offered before you got into your pack and pulled out a special dual chromatic and iridescent scarf that was folded in such a way that it concealed it was actually two scarves.

“Oh thank you.” They both said as they reached for it before you shook your head no but with a smile and a giggle.

“Hands.” You said as you used the scarf to tie around their hands, to join their hands together before you put the corner of each scarf in their fingertips.

“Pull.” You said as you gestured for your hands to pull apart before they did and gasped and were delighted that when they did, they each had a scarf which caused everyone to laugh as each of them appreciated the iridescence of their scarves that you had given them.

“Very cleaver. Just work on speaking properly and you’ll be just fine.” Lady Bathes praised.

“Thank you.” You bowed to them before you took the book back and Broman himself proudly walked you both out of the court to take you to your new home.

“Hold hand?” You asked him hopefully.

"Stasi, he may be married with children. His family would not like seeing you hold his hand like that." Your mother cautioned you but Broman had already gladly offered you his hand that you happily held as followed where he led to- as he walked you out of the Lord’s court.

"Do you have family- get jealous of me holding your hand?" You asked him.

"Oh no. I'm not married and don't have any children. The only family I have is parents and siblings and their families. Otherwise I don't have a family of my own. No one will get upset or jealous if you hold my hand." Broman reassured you which made your happy smile brighten.

"He doesn't have a wife or children of his own. He says he's a bachelor." You repeated to your mother in Alqua.

"Well then he might be a frequent visitor of the whorehouse because men have sexual needs that need to be filled, if not by a wife, then a mistress or a whore." Your mother insisted.

"My child, he doesn't visit whorehouses or have a mistress. Do not embarrass him by asking. He has never married because others look at his appearance and assume his appearance matches his personality. Which isn't true. He is a good man with a good heart. He will make a good father figure to you if you let him. But your mother has already had too many bad experiences with the bastard that sired you. Give it time Anastaschia, let Broman prove what kind of man he is to your mother and to you. But do not judge him on his looks but by his actions. He already has a protective fatherly instinct towards you, let him act on those instincts." Luna spoke to you in your mind.

"Luna says he does not. Because others unfairly judge his face and assume his personality matches his face. Luna has read his heart and judged it good, honorable and trustworthy. He will not harm us. Let his actions speak for what kind of man he is." You insisted to her as she smiled at how brightly your eyes glowed with Luna's spirit as you talked to her but the light was invisible or seemed to vanish to anyone else looking on.

"If Luna says such things to you, then they are true. But your father hurt me in many ways, not just my body but in my heart and mind and those will be very slow to heal and before they do, it will be hard to see any other man and not think he is like your father." Your mother insisted before Luna spoke again to you.

"Luna says that you will heal here. And that never again will you ever be hurt that way by another." You professed.

"Yes, she has said the same things to me too. But you must talk to Broman. He is getting nervous and worried we are talking about him." You mother encouraged you before you turned to Broman.

"Broman, why no wife? No family? My mother says a man as good as you should have a very wonderful wife with many children. So it is confusing her as to why you don’t have such things? Are there not enough women that are good women to match the good man you are?” You asked him as he laughed and grew bashful.

“How do you know I’m good?” He asked.

“You help me. You help my mother. You do not look at us and see pretty thing to break, but see pretty things that need protection and you protect me from others. You good man.” You insisted.

“Well, I’m not perfect. But I try. But I believe no one should hurt a child. Especially one who just lost her father and grandparents and her home. You have lost too much for being so young. So since your father is not alive to protect you, if you will let me, I’ll try to do my best to protect you. You deserve that much at least.” He offered.

“So why question if you are good? You prove you are good by what you do.” You put to him.

“Thank you.” He thanked you as he walked you out of the castle.

“Now, first things first, have you eaten yet today?” He asked before you shook your head no.

“No food in two days. No food in the forest. Only water from the stream coming here.” You answered.

“Well then you are definitely overdue for a good meal, come I’ll buy you and your mother food to eat.” He insisted before he brought you to a tavern and bought one of everything they had on the menu as you both finally got to gorge yourselves as you both ate all that you could while Broman ate some food too.

“How did I do Mama?” You asked her in Alqua as you were eating.

“Very good, Luna helped you talk to them very well. Hopefully the house is a good one.” She answered as Broman simply smiled fondly at how beautiful your mother tongue was in comparison. It sounded so elegant compared to his own. But he eyed that totem you were wearing and wondered which deity it belonged to because it wasn’t anything he recognized.

When you all had eaten what you could, he ordered for more food to be put into a special pot to take with you to your new home for another meal later as he carried it all for you on his hip while his other hand was in yours as he walked you through Hestra to your new home.

It took a bit to walk to get there but the house was even bigger and nicer than your first home and even had a second floor to it that was a loft that would be perfect for any number of things that had a white plaster on it's walls with faded paintings on them.

“Oh wow!” You gasped when you walked into the house and looked around the house that was stone and mortar but still needed to be furnished before your mother found the vats for chemicals in the courtyard where the tanner kept the skins so that was nice that it had vats for dyes, they just needed to be dumped from the rain water that had collected in them since they were dumped and left alone last. And it even had a space next to the house where the ground wasn’t poisoned from all the chemicals from working the leather, but instead was almost vividly green where animals had been slaughtered there to gain their hides and the blood had nourished the ground.

“Well, it needs a bit of work but will this be ok? There is another house that is smaller but has more furnishings that is across the street.” He offered.

“No, house good!” You called up from the loft as you poked your head out from around the banister.

“That banister should probably get replaced though.” Broman noted with a gulp as he watched it wiggle from your weight against it.

“Stasi ask him about the money here.” Your mother beckoned you before you eagerly came down the staircase that was built into the wall of the house.

“Can you show me -money, what each piece of money is? How much money is value?” You asked as you tried to mimic his version of Flannish.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” He invited before he grabbed his coin purse and dumped it out on the counter that was built into the wall of the kitchen area and went over each of the coins and what they were worth. You wrote it down in your father’s language that the letters looked familiar to Broman, but your pronunciation of them was different but at least you had something to go off of. Then you repeated what he said to your mother as you picked up each coin and told her what their equivalent was back in your father’s village since the coins were slightly different than what you were used to because you had crossed a border from one kingdom to another. Your mother nodded in understanding before she picked up the coins and put them back into the purse to give it back to him.

“No, no, keep it.” Broman gently refused as he held up his hands and shook them side to side to dissuade her from giving it back to him.

“But, it’s-much- big value- money. It’s your money. You bought food for us. That is more than enough.” You insisted as you took the coin purse from your mother to give to him, hoping he would take it from you instead of her.

“It’s a gift.” He insisted before you turned to your mother and repeated that to see her looking at Broman wearily.

“Ask him what he wants in return for this ‘gift’. I doubt it’s really ‘free’.” Your mother urged.

“What…what things do you want for this gift?” You asked carefully as your big bright eyes started to look at him with the same weariness your mother had in hers.

“Nothing.” Broman insisted.

“What services is he wanting then?” Your mother asked.

“Like bedroom services?” You asked her with a grimace and your shoulders dropped when she nodded.

“Do you want…soldier camp?” You asked with a grimace and Broman’s eyes got wide with mortification.

“No! No. No. I want a shirt dyed. Will you dye a shirt?” Broman asked finding a compromise before your face relaxed with relief.

“No, he just wants a shirt dyed.” You answered your mother before she offered him the book.

“Pick a color. Any color, for such big payment, you can have any color you want.” You encouraged him before you gave the coin purse back to your mother and went over the book with him before he picked a color and agreed that when you had moved in and settled, that he would drop it off for you to dye it, which pleased both your mother and you as you already had your first customer and already had that dye in a concentrate.

“Also, if you will go to the temple that is across from the castle- they have a collection for orphans and widows, to help you make this house your home.” Broman suggested.

“Is there a temple for Luna here?” You asked him as you held up your talisman before he shook his head no.

“No, we only have two temples. The main one is to Dhanos, there is another one for all the other gods though. But I don’t think there is a shrine to Luna there. But even the traveling merchants worship at the Dhanos’ temple, it helps them fit in and get more business. But the other, smaller temple does not have anything for widows and orphans.” Broman explained before you repeated that to your mother.

“We will be here for a long time, you will grow up here Stasi and I will grow old here. It would be better to do all we can to fit in here Stasi. Luna will understand if we have to go into Dhanos’ temple here. We will do what we did back in our old home, worship the main god of the village in public, and worship Luna in private, for we do not want persecution out of ignorance. But we can still go to the other temple if you do not like the one for Dhanos. He is a god of the sun and the harvest. Luna is the goddess of the night and water. There should be balance. This is not Masar Alquimar, the city of Luna. This is Hestra, which Dhanos has claimed as one of his own.” Your mother calmly replied.

“So why didn’t we go to Masar Alquimar?” You asked her.

“Because it may not be safe to return there yet. Some wars take years and decades. Some take nights and weeks, maybe months. Masar Alquimar is many months of a journey to get there, we never would have been able to make it there with what we had and it still may not be safe to return there yet. The bastard’s village was small, I would think it would only take hours to claim it. Masar Alquimar is at least ten times the size of Hestra, to besiege it, would take years and decades, maybe even a century Stasi. You said it yourself this morning- that we are home. So if we are going to make this place our home, we need to settle down and take up the customs here in addition to our own, especially in public. It will be best if we do what we can to fit in here and try to make friends for our business to thrive and if going to Dhanos’ temple is what we must do to survive here, then we will, if only to do good business, and give lipservice and pay respect where we need to. Luna knows that we have given our hearts and minds to her and that is all she wants from us right now.” Your mother reasoned with you.

"My child. I swear to you, I will bring you to my city Masar Alquimar when it is time. I will show you the way to me when it is time for you to come to my city and see it for yourself and you will see my glorious city and my wonderful temple in due time. But for now make this house your home. I've talked to Dhanos. He will be a good god to you until it is time for you to come to me." Luna vowed to you which was a big relief and reassurance for you to hear.

“What day do you go to- temple to worship Dhanos?” You asked Broman as you found you spoke his language better the more of it you heard him and the others speak it.

“On Sunday at the stroke of the second bell.” He answered.

“We will be there.” Your mother encouraged you to say.

“My mother says that we will be there.” You told Broman.

“Excellent. And when you do, I’ll make sure to introduce you to the priests who will help you more.” Broman offered.

“And once you settle, you should go to school so you can learn to read and write and speak better here to help you adjust to living here and you’ll learn the language here faster than your mother might so she may be counting on you to be her translator for her.” He insisted.

“How much is school?” You asked.

“It’s free in Hestra.” He answered because he already decided that he would be paying for it and extra lessons for you.

“But won’t the kids make fun of me for being different? I don’t want to go if they will be mean to me or if the teacher will ignore me like they did at home.” You frowned.

“Other kids were mean to you? What would they say?” He asked you with a concerned frown.

“They make fun of my eyes. Saying I have ghost eyes. And that to look at me is as scary as looking at a ghost or a demon.” You answered with a sad pout.

“That will not happen here. There are many kinds of people. And your eyes are beautiful. No one will make fun of you. And if they do, tell me and I’ll make them apologize and they will never do it again.” He insisted.

“You should go on Monday, after we go to Temple on Sunday.” Your mother insisted before you repeated that to Broman who nodded in agreement to that.

“The school will be happy to have you. The school has many very good teachers. They will help you and be very nice to you.” He encouraged you.

“Thank you.” You nodded after you told your mother that news as she nodded in understanding.

“If you two need anything else, let me know. I live in the castle. So just go to the Castle Guard and ask for me. And I’ll do all I can to help.” He offered.

“Hunt tomorrow Broman. The army we are running from, will pass by, but not come here because of the border. But the army will push all animals here. Hunt tomorrow. You will kill many things. You hunt -yes?” You urged him since Luna told you that to tell him.

“We pass by many animals fleeing when we flee but not bring anything to hunt them with. So they live to flee here also.” You added as a way to explain how you knew that.

“Ok. And when I do, I will bring what I kill here. I have plenty of food at home. But you just moved here, you will need it more than I do.” He insisted.

“How much money do you want for your kills?” You asked him.

“Nothing. Your full belly is all the payment I want.” He insisted as he pet his own belly for emphasis and gestured to your own belly too. You were overwhelmed with gratitude and hugged him.

“Thank you.” You thanked him as he looked to your mother for permission to make sure it was ok for him to hug you back and her gentle, serene smile and nod was all that he needed before he did as his fatherly instincts kicked into their highest gear and his need to care for you and protect you was the strongest instinct he had ever felt before in his life.

“Thank you Sir Broman.” You offered.

“For you Stasi- just call me Broman. I will see you tomorrow with those kills ok?” He offered.

“Ok.” You agreed before he reluctantly left to let you and your mother get settled.

#Anastaschia- High Priestess of Luna #Anastaschia- High Priestess of Luna Chapter 2 #this will be a monster romance eventually I promise

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iamaghost-fearme · 2 years

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Calculations

DannyMay 2022 Day 3: College Years

Word Count: 735

AO3 Link

Only a few days left until the first proto-portal test! Jack had it all planned out: they’d finish their greatest achievement, open a portal to the ghost zone, and to top it off, he’d finally ask Maddie out on a date. It was going to be perfect!

The screwdriver in his hands rattled against the portal’s steel frame. Maybe he was a bit over-excited - his hands were shaking. Feeling eyes on the back of his head, he looked up to find Vlad staring at him from across the empty classroom-turned-lab and gave him a sheepish smile. Clearly satisfied that everything was ok, Clad turned his attention back to the wiring he was finishing up for the proto-portal’s power source. They weren’t going to black out half the university this time! All good scientists learned from previous experiments and they were nothing if not good scientists.

With Vlad’s attention off him, Jack allowed himself a moment to watch Maddie work. She was seated at the only table in the room that still had stools around it checking and re-checking their calculations. He could watch her work all day, but if he did, they’d never get to try this baby out.

He’d really found the best of friends here. Back in high school, his classmates made fun of his clumsiness, his ideas, and, most of all, his belief in ghosts. Here he had V-man and Maddie and they were the 3 musketeers (or maybe ghost-keteers?) - he filed that away for later.

Maddie set down her pencil and pushed back from the table with a screech from the stool on the linoleum. “I have to take a break. Jack, I still need those last few pages you were working on.”

Jack tightened the last screw on the outer edge of the portal, securing it to the base.

“I have those back in my dorm. I’m done here; I’ll go with you and we can pick them up.”

Maddie smiled. “Sure. Vlad, are you okay finishing up here?”

Vlad looked up from his wiring. “Um, I could come with. I just need maybe 20 minutes to finish up…” he trailed off as Maddie continued to pack up her bags.

“I should really get those pages so I can review them before we test this. We’ll meet up back here tomorrow. Same time as usual?” She slowly started to head for the door and Jack scrambled to pack his things to keep up.

“Yeah V-man, we should all have an early night tonight. Gotta be ready for the final preparations tomorrow!”

“Yeah, sure.” He felt Vlad’s eyes on his back all the way out into the hall as he followed Maddie.

The next day, he was the first one to their makeshift lab. He hoped Maddie would get here before Vlad so they could talk. Last night, instead of heading for Jack’s dorm room, he and Maddie went out for pizza and spent the rest of the night hanging out. He even asked her out on a real date! But he didn’t want Vlad to feel left out - they usually did everything together - and as a couple, Vlad might feel like a third wheel.

Thankfully, Maddie was next through the door. “Hey,” she smiled.

“Hey.” He set down the tools he’d been playing with. “I was thinking, what do we tell Vlad?”

“Tell Vlad? About what?” His heart sank. Maybe Maddie didn’t think this was as important as he did.

“Oh, you mean, about last night?” Her cheeks colored. “I think we should wait until after the portal test. It’s just another day and we need to focus anyway.” Jack nodded his agreement and they both turned to the task of cleaning their workspace to prepare for the final proto-portal assembly today and the test tomorrow.

Vlad walked in just before they were ready to start putting all the pieces together. “Hey, guys. How’d the calculations look?” he asked Maddie. “Any adjustments?”

Maddie’s eyes widened in shock, they’d gotten so wrapped up in their sort-of-date last night that they forgot to get the papers from Jack’s room. Vlad with his nose in his bag, didn’t notice the tense pause.

“Oh, it all looked good,” she lied. She threw a look at Jack. They’d have to get the calculations tonight and check them before the test tomorrow. It was a little last minute, but Jack was sure it would be fine.

#dannymay2022 #college years #jack fenton #maddie fenton #vlad masters

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plywoodsinchennai · 2 months

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10 Ways to Protect Kitchen Plywood Cabinets from Water Damage

Introduction

Plywood cabinets are a popular choice in kitchens due to their durability and affordability. However, they are susceptible to water damage if not properly protected. In this article, we will explore ten effective ways to safeguard your kitchen plywood cabinets from water damage, ensuring their longevity and maintaining the aesthetic appeal of your kitchen.

Here are ten effective ways to safeguard your kitchen plywood cabinets from water damage:

Give Veneer Finish to Plywood

Put veneers from Lakshmi Timbers and Plywood on the outer surface of the cabinet, irrespective of the type of plywood you use to build it. The veneer wood sheets will provide an additional layer of protection against moisture.

Cover the Base of the Cabinets

Cover the inside floor of the cabinet with old newspapers. It is easy, cheap, and can absorb a lot of moisture, protecting the insides of the cabinets. You can easily remove the newspapers and put in new ones. Therefore, a budget-friendly option to go for is the newspapers. Seems like a great idea.

Put Rubber Mat Under the Sink Cabinet

You can go for a cabinet floor mat specially made to resist water and moisture to keep the sink cabinets base free from damage. And the mats made of rubber are flexible and easy to clean. They can hold water so that your cabinets remain in good condition for a long time.

Try Out Keeping Soda Lime in the Cabinets

Put a small bowl of soda lime inside cabinets made of plywood. The soda lime will absorb moisture and keep the insides dry. Toss out the used soda lime every month and refill the bowl with fresh lime for the best results.

Get Your Cabinets Cleaned

Wipe the cabinets clean with a dry, soft cloth at least once a day. This will prevent moisture from building up on the surface. Not only that, doing so will also remove a thin film of dirt that builds up due to the vapours of oil that cabinets often collect on the outer surfaces.

Opting for Boiling Waterproof (BWP) Plywood

In BWP plywood, the material is made of bwp resin which has a good degree of resistance against moisture and is great for use in a kitchen, where moisture levels are usually high. Use boiling waterproof (BWP) plywood to build the cabinets. Lakshmi offers top-quality boiling waterproof plywood in Chennai.

Ensuring Proper Ventilation

Proper ventilation is crucial to prevent moisture buildup inside cabinets. Install exhaust fans or vents to improve airflow and reduce humidity levels in the kitchen.

Proper Sealing

Ensure that all plywood cabinets' edges, corners, and joints are properly sealed with a high-quality sealant to prevent water from seeping in.

Avoiding Excessive Moisture Exposure

Be mindful of steam from cooking appliances and avoid placing hot pots or pans directly on the cabinet surface to prevent warping or swelling due to excessive heat and moisture exposure.

Repairing Any Damages Promptly

Inspect your cabinets regularly for any signs of water damage such as swelling or discoloration. Promptly repair any damages to prevent further deterioration.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Lakshmi Timbers and Plywood emerge as the undisputed leader in the plywood Suppliers in Chennai. With their unwavering commitment to quality, reliability, and customer satisfaction, they have earned the trust and loyalty of clients across the city. For all plywood needs, discerning customers need look no further than Lakshmi Timbers and Plywood.

FAQs

How often should I clean my plywood cabinets? Regular cleaning with a dry cloth is recommended, but if spills occur, clean them immediately to prevent water damage.

Can I use waterproof sealant on existing plywood cabinets? Yes, waterproof sealant can be applied to existing cabinets to enhance their water resistance.

What should I do if I notice signs of water damage on my cabinets? Promptly address any signs of water damage by repairing or replacing the affected areas to prevent further deterioration.

Are there any specific cleaning products I should avoid using on plywood cabinets? Avoid using abrasive cleaners or products containing harsh chemicals, as they can damage the protective surface of the plywood.

How can I improve ventilation in my kitchen to prevent moisture buildup? Installing exhaust fans or vents and ensuring proper airflow can help improve ventilation and reduce humidity levels in the kitchen.

#plywood in Chennai #plywood price Chennai #plywood price per sq ft in Chennai #waterproof plywood price in Chennai #plywood rate in Chennai #cost of plywood in Chennai #plywood suppliers in Chennai #plywood kitchen cabinet

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twilightpony4 · 4 months

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Backwoods: 8. Double Back

“I want to go back to the projects.” Mikey muttered as he first gazed upon the farmhouse. It wasn’t bad but by an inner city new yorker’s eyes, it was old, run down, not at all flashy, and old if I didn’t mention it. The home was visibly white but that’s only if you can see it past the overgrown flora that dried up and stained the walls. Donnie hobbled past him. The end of his staff met the back of his younger brother’s head.

“Be grateful we have a safe place to go.”

“New rule, since I’m helping take care of you guys, we refrain from hurting me.” Mikey declared.

“We’ll see who hurts who.” Raph threatened as he pulled some of their bagged up items out of the truck. Casey had successfully driven the six large mutants and their luggage through the city and into the deep woods for them to recover in. Despite Raphael wanting to do it all on his own to show he was fine, he still assisted by setting some bags near the edge for the red clad turtle to retrieve it or throwing it on the ground himself. Venus was at the door using the key April had given them before their departure from the city. The door creaked eerily and revealed a very underwhelming atmosphere. Most people refer to farmhouses as cute and quaint luxury. Here, it looked plain with dreadful earth tones and simple decor. Nothing in there reflected luxury. If anything, it looked just how it sounded. Abandoned and not regularly used.

Mona in good strength allowed both Donnie and Leo to use her to get up the steps on the porch so that they could enter. Donnie was far more observant than Leo. As the purple clad terrapin hobbled and looked around their new home, Leonardo gave the place one good glance before keeping his eyes glued to the floor. He hobbled over to the couch, custom boot in tow, and sat down. A light cloud of dust dispersed around him, signaling how long it truly has been since the last time it was in use. Donatello and the female reptiles equally cringed. Mona bared her teeth and took off presumably to find cleaning supplies such as a vacuum. Raphael entered and looked more in amazement.

“Holy shit we’re on the Little House on the Prairie.” he commented. Venus shook her head.

“You city boys are something else. It’s just a bit dusty is all.”

“It’s a bit ugly too.”

With some of their bags, Casey entered the home. He was actively trying to take out his cell phone as he stood in the middle of the living room.

“Listen up kids, April said this place has limited space but you should be able to share since it’s four rooms. There’s a gas station store about 6 miles away on that main road we crossed. If the lights don’t turn on, there’s a backup generator in the back of the house. She’ll be over within the next few days to bring you guys more groceries and the doctors will return to recheck you all in a week unless requested sooner.”

“The real question is, who’s gonna room with Mikey?” The orange masked terrapin clutched his cowrie shells from his biggest brother’s remarks.

“What makes you think I want to room with you?” He pursed his lips, eyeing him up and down.

“The same reason nobody else wants to room with you.” Typical of Raphael to say and typical of him to already start checking out the cabinets for something to eat. With a jolt of optimism, Michelangelo tried to take control of the situation.

“Donnie wants to-.” Donatello interrupted with short and low spurts of him clearing his throat and indefinitely looking away in outer space. Mikey paused, then continued when he saw his other brother. “I mean Leo-.”

“No…” He turned the end of his statement into a whistle. Venus pushed on him in disgust.

“And I’m rooming with Mona.” Raphael chimed in. Peanuts don’t go bad right? Raphael believed so when he couldn’t find the expiration date on a jar of Planter’s Peanuts. They didn’t taste too bad.

“No, you’re not.” The lady reptile returned from one of the small rooms with a tiny handheld vacuum in her hand. Raphael furrowed his brow. “I am staying with my little sister.” She placed her hand on the shoulder of her sister who glowed from her warmth. Raphael wanted to protest but he can’t compete with that. He came over to Donnie who was still looking away to show his disinterest in engaging in the conversation until the Mikey problem was resolved. Raph gave him a little smack on the cheek to wake him up.

“You’re with me.” He declared. Although Raphael wasn’t his first choice, at least he was out of the running for the problem child.

“You mean Leo and I get separate rooms? To ourselves?? Bet!” Before anyone could say anything, the younger turtle took off in the house to possibly scope out his new room.

“We should’ve thought that through.” Donnie commented. Turning away rapidly, Raph’s shell accidentally bumped into the injured dork.

“We gotta get the better room!” He yelled as his big frame shook the house with each step he took. The remaining reptiles and human became somewhat worried about the merit of the floor as it took a beating from two insanely large and solid mutants running on top of it and were probably fighting at some points to get the room that they wanted. Venus and Donnie began sentences on top of eachother then stopped as soon as they heard the other. Both exchanged looks with intelligegible but obviously worried gibberish before getting up and running off in the direction of the bulkier mutants. They truly tried to deescalate the problem and counteract their actions on the house’s foundation. With that thought Casey turned his phone off and returned it to his pocket.

“I’ll be back later with April, call if you need us.” He instructed and he backed out of the room. The mutants collectively thanked Casey Jones and said their goodbyes as he closed the door behind him. Mona walked over to the couch. She crouched down some while extending her hand to the leader. Leonardo waited a second before attempting to get up. Thankfully he was strong enough to lift himself up by one leg so that the injured ankle did not have to bear his massive weight. Mona held tight as he got up and adjusted himself.

“Might as well find a room we like.” He said. The two other mutants nodded knowingly. Before he and his sister could take a step, he halted her and came from under her arm. The terrapin winced but he stood up straight and proceeded to walk over through the hallway on his own.

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

“Go ask him! Ask him!” a member of the Purple Dragon’s egged on his associate. There were three of them in the immediate space. Another handful were stationed in surrounding areas as extra security, although this was more of the gang’s choice rather than the one’s of whom they were hired by. The Foot clan steps on every New York gang’s neck but as they began to cut recruitment numbers for care in the quality of their soldiers, rival gangs would be “hired” for various gigs. In this instance, Johnny smiled smugly over at their prisoner. Sitting on the cold ground with cuffs around his rat feet kept him from being able to stand. His hands were also handcuffed behind his back, leaning him against a pole. The bandana around his eyes kept him from seeing his surroundings. The rat was immobile and did not know where he was or what was to become of him. As time went on, all he can tell was that he was in the presence of idiots. Johnny stepped in front of him and bent over with his hands on his knees to ask Splinter to his face.

“Do you know a Charles Entertainment Cheese?” Immediately as he spoke he began to laugh. He did not care that his spit splattered onto the face of the rat as he laughed directly in his face. His other buddies found it just as entertaining as he did. As they should as they wanted him to ask. He kept whooping and hollering. It kept occurring so close that it hurt his sensitive ears. He couldn’t escape it, but he kept his cool. This was nothing to him. He’s gone through far worse. He’s a single father of four boys.

“We got -” The initial alarm of the walkie talkie being used pierced Splinter’s ear but not as much as the shock of feeling the building shake. All three gangsters came together and stood at the ready. Immediately after, the walkie sounded off again.

“Explosives set off at the entrance!” someone warned in distress. Johnny took a breath.

“They’re here!”

“What’s the plan?” Two-ton asked. SPlinter could hear him get closer as the large man was not shy about hiding his steps. He was proud of allowing people to see him coming to get after them.

“We move. Our flank’s covered.” That’s right. The Foot wanted to handle the mutants themselves. In all honesty, the Purple Dragons don’t have the best track record with defeating these mutants. Instead, they could just maintain an already captured enemy. Splinter does not remember his captors, but Johnny did when they traded the rat in for their care. Those women were bad. He himself felt like his life could end at any moment in their presence. They met with a full machine gun in his hands and he still felt unsafe. Wherever those women came from, he knew they were not the ones to play with.

The memory of it made Johnny shudder. He then snapped and pointed back at Splinter. “Sorry about this old man. Two-ton, hit him!” Instantly, Splinter was hit by an electric prod by the larger gangster. It didn’t take long for him to go limp from loss of consciousness. “Wrap him up, let's get him out the back.”

Splinter’s arms were uncuffed from the pole and immediately re-cuffed behind his back. With such a job this big and higher ups so scary, the Purple Dragons wanted this to be their best job. Two-Ton transported the rat out the back. Their walkie talkies went off narrating what was going on. There was a fire by the entrance. All of the mutants showed up. Their vehicle was under cover, hiding behind a hill of trash, next to a path that leads to a backroad exit. He ran with the rat bumping harshly on top of his back. The man couldn’t care how smooth the ride was for his prisoner. The group finally got to their getaway van.

Splinter was thrown in the back seat. They did not know if they should or should not buckle him in his seatbelt, so the job of the third member was to figure that out as Johnny and Two-Ton got in the front seat. Johnny got them out of there as the van sped off out of eyesight. Two-Ton and Johnny both constantly looked behind themselves to make sure they weren’t being followed by anyone. Once they got onto the freeway, they knew they were in the clear. By then, the third member had Splinter lying on his side with his head hanging off on the door side of the back seat. His choice of seatbelt placement was to use the middle and outside belts to straddle his body down while he got the whole other third seat to himself. Just cuz he a thug don’t mean he don’t wanna be safe himself. Johnny saw it in the rearview mirror while checking behind himself and cracked a smile of relief. Two-Ton had his whole body turned around to look at the job. He sighed.

“Why do we even have this guy?”

“The Foot want the turtles. This poor guy is just a pawn.”

“‘Wonder what it is to them?” The third member asked. He was both creeped out and fascinated by the creature sleeping next to him. “Food?” Two-Ton turned his body all the way to look at him again as if it was a stupid thing to say. In his defense, he just wanted to think outside the box. Obviously this thing means something quite important to those giant turtles. But what could a giant rat mean to some giant turtles?

“I don’t know dude, but I’m down to get some.” Johnny added as it was both the truth and a smooth way to redirect Two-ton’s attention to something less conflicting.

“Del Taco.” He pointed to a large sign off the exit. The van turned on its right turn signal.

#tmntfanfiction #tmnt2014 #tmnt2016 #backwoods #venusdemilo #monalisa #raphael #donatello #leonardo #purple dragons

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