#iguanas shelves

[shortprince-cos]

Of Pirated Princes

Summary: After he was kidnapped by pirates, Prince Zuko is freed by two Water Tribesmen who don't believe he's the actual Fire Prince.

AO3 Link

(Word Count: 2068)

Chapter One: Of Closets and Chains

~~~~~

Hakoda didn’t like pirates, but he had to admit that they were rather helpful when it came to finding unique specimens.

The boutique was filled with hundreds of antiques, collectables, and knick-knacks, spanning from the entrance to the counter at the back of the boat. An array of weapons to books to clothing lined the shelves and cases. All of it stolen, but some of it at a decent price.

It wasn’t right, buying from pirates, but sometimes the crew of the Ilatka was low on funds, and they needed an affordable place to buy authentic pieces.

“Chief,” Bato called, only to be holding a stone statue of a monkey with jewels for eyes in front of his face, startling the man slightly.

Hakoda sighed at his companion’s shenanigans. “Must you?”

Bato chuckled and put the statue down. “I must.”

He let out a huff, but didn’t bother to hide the smirk on his lips, knowing it would be fruitless. He and Bato had been joking around like this since they were children, mostly playing pranks on the residents of Wolf Cove, but occasionally pulling a stunt or two on each other. Sure, they had grown since then, but they hadn’t really grown up.

“Please be careful with that,” A voice said. “If you break it, you buy it.”

The owner of the voice was a large man with an unsettling grin on his face. An iguana-parrot was perched on his shoulder, and a hat sat atop his silver-haired head. It was the captain, Hakoda realized.

He nodded at the man. “Understood.”

They went back to browsing without another word, Bato getting lost in the clothing section and Hakoda carefully sifting through the weapons. Some were Water Tribe, though it was hard to tell if it was north or south. Still, the thought of these men ‘acquiring’ them left a bitter taste in his mouth. So much of their culture had been taken by the Fire Nation, and they didn’t need some low-life criminals to steal some too.

“Chief,” Bato called again, and Hakoda just shook his head.

“I don’t care what it is, Bato. I’m not buying it just so you can look pretty.”

“Hakoda,” He said, and the name was stressed this time, like something was wrong.

The chief turned then, making his way over to where Bato was shopping at a slow-but-urgent pace. There was a jewelry case that he was pointing to, and it took Hakoda a second to spot what it was he was referencing.

A small necklace with blue ribbon and a turquoise stone attached to it.

Kya’s necklace

Katara’s necklace.

A million thoughts flooded his mind at once, but only one of them stood out.

How?

He had to figure out how.

Hakoda marched to the counter at the back of the boat, careful not to stomp and make a scene. “Excuse me,” He said, voice cold. “Can I ask where you got that Water Tribe necklace?”

The captain smiled - smirked, even. “Nicked it off of a suspicious character. Why? You interested? I do hear that they make great engagement necklaces up north.”

Hakoda smiled back, eyes hard. “You could say that. What did this suspicious character look like?” There was an answer he didn’t want to hear.

This time, he was positive it was a smirk. “I have a feeling you’re much more interested in him, aren’t you?”

Him.

There was a plethora of things to be taken from that one word, but only one mattered.

It wasn’t Katara.

He nodded, fear starting to seep into his pool of rage.

The iguana-parrot squawked, and the captain gestured behind him. “How about I introduce you?”

<><><>

Zuko was having a very bad week.

Not only had the Avatar kept escaping his clutches, but Uncle had insisted on rerouting them into the nearest port so he could buy a new lotus tile. And for what? A stupid Pai Sho game? Ridiculous.

So of course, while Uncle was off doing that, Zuko had decided to explore the port a bit. What a great decision that was.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that there were eyes on him. Like no matter where he turned, someone was always watching him.

He only realized what was happening two seconds after he was cornered.

Zuko fought, really he did, but there were just so many of them all at once, and they all had different weapons and angles and he just wasn’t fast enough.

It was a group of pirates, he noticed as he started to run out of breath. What did they want with him? He didn’t have time to find out, and he was running out of strength and time and-

He was knocked out eventually, a quick blow to the head made that easy. And when he woke up, he was in a small wooden room, empty except for the chains clamped around his hands and feet.

Was he in a closet?

The question was answered when the captain of the pirates came to check in on him a little while later, and he explained that yes, Zuko was now chained up in a closet on a pirate ship so they could sell him on the black market.

So, yeah. Not the greatest time.

A few days had gone by like that, Zuko caged up while the captain kept coming back to feed him and brag about how much money he was going to make. It felt like eternity. Zuko knew it was only a matter of time before he got out of here - he just didn’t know if it was going to be via escape attempt or because the pirates actually sold him. He didn’t like to think about the latter, so he stuck to the former option.

The door opened again, momentarily blinding him as the light shone in. Three figures walked in, the first being the captain, the other two Zuko didn't recognize, but they were larger than most of the pirates, which wasn't exactly a good sign.

Buyers, Zuko horridly realized. The pirates had found buyers.

The man in back looked at him with horror on his face, but the one in front just stared, emotionless. A pang of fear hit him then, though he tried to fight it off. There was no time to be afraid right now.

“Meet Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.” The captain said, a smirk splitting his face, and dread pooled in the boy’s stomach.

This was really happening. Zuko was kidnapped by pirates and was about to be sold to Agni-knows-who, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Zuko wasn’t usually superstitious, but he sent out a prayer to the spirits, just in case.

<><><>

Fire Nation. That was the only thought that occupied Hakoda’s mind. This boy was obviously Fire Nation, and he somehow had Katara’s necklace.

Terror pierced him like a blade cutting through skin. A raid was the only explanation. How else would a Fire Nation boy get his hands on something so distant, so out of reach? How else would a piece of his home, of his family, end up in Fire Nation clutches?

Hakoda couldn’t breathe. The last raid that took place was the one where they lost Kya. If another happened in the time the tribe was gone-

Sokka was the only one protecting the village, Katara was the last waterbender, and her necklace was here.

What happened to his children?

He felt the wound of fear bleeding out, but he knew he couldn’t do anything to stop it except keep on his calculated face. This pirate couldn’t know the heartbreak that Hakoda had just gone through, not if he wanted answers. He just had to play his cards right, no matter how much he wanted to shuffle his deck.

“Meet Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.” The captain said, and Hakoda tried not to reel.

Prince Zuko? That couldn’t be right. This boy in front of them was just a kid.

His thoughts stopped there. A kid. This boy was just a kid, not a soldier. There’s no way that this- this teenager would’ve been assigned a southern raid.

The pirate had to be bullshitting him. There’s no way this child was Prince Zuko, and there’s no reason he should have this necklace.

“You can’t honestly expect us to believe that you have the Prince Zuko tied up in your lowly pirate boutique, can you?” Hakoda asked, eyebrow raised.

The captain’s smile fell. “You callin’ me a liar?”

A hand on his shoulder. “Tread carefully.” Bato whispered.

He was right. Hakoda couldn't afford to mess this up. Not with so much on the line.

He stood up straighter. “No, I’m just pointing out that it's a bit far-fetched. Is there any way you can prove it?”

The captain huffed, but turned to the boy on the floor, reaching to the cloth tied around his mouth.

The second his lips were free, the boy spat fire. It happened so quickly, the way the room brightened and the way Hakoda could feel the heat of the flame on his arms and face. He’d heard of firebenders breathing fire before, but he’d never gotten the chance to see it in action until now. It seemed like it would be a party trick until he actually saw the way the wood of the ship singed.

The slap happened just as quickly, effectively shutting the boy’s mouth.

The captain gripped the boy’s chin in his hand, drawing Hakoda’s attention to the bruises that littered it; bruises he didn’t notice before because he was so focused on the fact that he was Fire Nation. “You fucking brat!”

The boy flinched, and suddenly Hakoda stopped worrying about if he had hurt his kids and started worrying about this kid being hurt.

The captain was yelling at the kid now, too distracted to notice Hakoda grabbing the club off of his belt. Bato noticed, and backed up to secure the door, knowing there were other pirates aboard this ship. The boy noticed, his good eye widening, and his mouth shut.

One hit was enough to knock the man out.

Hakoda rushed to start unchaining the boy, not missing the way he looked at him in terror and held his breath.

After a minute, the boy was free, and he was eyeing the two men warily, obviously unsure of what was going on.

“Someone’s coming,” Bato warned in a hushed tone.

“Listen to me,” Hakoda started, whispering at the boy. “I know you’re scared, but please just trust us to get you out of here, all right? We’re only trying to help you.”

The boy sucked in a breath. “I’m not scared.”

The door swung open, and a man in a green shirt looked at them with confusion in his eyes.

“Uh-”

The boy shot fire at the man’s feet.

The pirate scrambled out of the way with a shout, leaving just enough room for Hakoda, Bato, and the boy to run past. They quickly made their way back to the store-section of the boat, Hakoda only stopping to break the glass case and grab Kya’s necklace, before bolting out.

Suddenly, about a half dozen men were on their tail, and Hakoda was just starting to realize how much of a bad idea this was.

<><><>

Zuko didn’t know where these men were going, but he did know that he couldn’t fight off all of these pirates by himself, so he just kept following them. Sure, he wasn’t thinking things through, but when did he ever?

Besides, he had bigger, more immediate things to worry about.

By the time they came to a stop, Zuko was on the verge of passing out; hunger, dehydration, and blood loss getting to him more than it should have. He didn’t even know where he was, all he knew was that the world was swaying and the sun was too hot and the voices were just too loud.

His hand went to the cut on his side, one that he’d barely registered he’d gotten as they were running past that pirate in the hall. Of course he was armed, why wouldn’t he be? Zuko was always so, so stupid.

“Well,” One of the men said. “That’s one way to get out of the closet.”

The other laughed, but Zuko didn’t hear since he was already halfway to the ground.

~~~~~

not gonna put much here cause im tired but reblogs are definitely appreciated!!

#fanfiction #fanfic #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla zuko #atla hakoda #atla bato #dadkoda #atla fanfic #atla fanfiction #of pirated princes

[crimson-chaser]

SOZED anon, Louie, is back for more

anyways, room hcs ( thanks to the million, they bought a fucking mansion, Shawn was not messing around (( Shawn won in my country )) )

They did change some random storage rooms into bedrooms because there were originally only 3 bedrooms and they all agreed to have a singuar room, but they do move into someone elses room sometimes

anyway, Dave's room is neat and tidy obviously, but its not like pale white, it hurts his eyes too much Its more shades of green and brown He has alot of books ( mainly plants and classic literature ), although he is an extreme germaphobe he still loves plants and has plenty of them all over his room. His room is forest cabin themed so he has a plain wooden desk with one of those rolly, spinny chairs with a laptop and even more books. He has a basic bedframe with a black bedsheet and a plain blue blanket and pillows ( he also has rolled up band posters that he is too shy to put up )

Shawns room is messy. Its all over the place, his wooden bedframe is broken but it still manages to hold him up, with the million he subconciously bought one of those "earthquake protection bunkers" that he managed to squeeze under his bed. He does have acouple books but its all fantasy books and about zombie survival, his drawers are mainly packed full of weapons or his dirty ass clothes that he REALLY needs to wash or shiny things that he keeps safe in a secret drawer at the bottom of them all

Jasmines room is stocked full of interesting things full of things she found on her little adventures, whether it be crystals that Sky polished for her or skulls that she keeps in her drawer to hide away from Ella, she also has an iguana in her room who she named "Rotten Banana" because its brown and has yellow spots on its back, She has the biggest bed in the house because of how tall she is but she still cant fit on it fully and had to slightly curl up to fit on it. She has like 2 or 3 posters of her favourite famous explorers ( one of them is manitoba )

Ellas room is as stereotypical as a princess fanatic would be, she has plenty of bird feeders and bird hourses hanging from her ceiling and walls so her window is always shut but it gets cold so she has the thickest door in the house so they dont have to keep the heating on every hour of everyday. She has a heart-shaped mirror which the frame is covered in pictures of her partners, their partners and pictures of her animal friends that she takes everyday. She has alot of books all about princesses, animals and singing coaching books.

Skys room is very generic, there is nothing very special about it other that the shelves and shelves of trophies and medals shes won, she has posters of her favourite gymnasts ( one of them is svetlana )

If you look closely you can tell who is my favourite

- SOZED anon, or Louie

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!! IT IS VERY WELL THOUGHT OUT AND SUIT'S EACH CHARACTER AMAZINGLY, I LOWKEY LOVE THESE SOZED HEADCANONS SM.

they are so silly :3

#td shawn #td dave #td jasmine #td sky #td ella #tdpi #total drama pahkitew island #total drama #td sozed #sozed td #sozed

[soysaucevictim]

“it feels like my brain (was floating in a fishtank)”

(See warnings/summary on Ao3.)

[ Prologue/Start ] [ Previous ]

Chapter 10: When Shall I Be Free?

Vic noticed Roman acting strange, a lot like Remus had before he made Jude.

So he wasn’t as blindsided when Roman asked to come with him to work, otherwise, out of nowhere. Roman was twitchy and distracted, as Vic refreshed his kid on where everything was at the zoo. Roman was never as interested in the animals there as Remus and it had been years since Roman was last here. 

Vic knew if he hadn’t had the blessing of knowing his sons their whole life – he’d probably be confused about why they were so different about it. Vic agreed with Remus on the animals being better than people, humans also being animals taken into account, it really was like the kid sort of knew what he was on some level?

Roman was very visibly uncomfortable with basically any animal species that had some sort of nonsense stigma attached to them. The last time Roman was even at the zoo ended in him being spooked by watching one of the ambassador komodo dragons tearing apart a deer carcass behind the scenes. It was like he desperately wanted to separate himself from them.

Ever since Vic Awakened, he realized he only could draw parallels with his “patients”, personal experiences, and philosophy more than fully getting inside their heads. Perhaps, Logan was onto something on that one. He saw how uncomfortable Roman was about a lot of things, and wished he could help more.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“This is going to sound weird and gross… but where do you keep the animals when they die? I-I don’t think I can do what I need to when there’s still life in their eyes...”

“Understandable. Admittedly, the bureaucracy will be easier to deal with that way, too.”

Vic brought his son over to the freezers where they kept all dead animals for processing. They were waiting on necropsy and sample-taking from the on-site lab. Those not to be cremated in the same lab were to be prepared for natural history museums or colleges with veterinary/ecological programs.

There were different species at different stages – grouped together by taxa. There was usually a pretty diverse selection from eagles to green iguanas. Vic wasn’t sure where to point his son toward, worried he wouldn’t stand the sight of it all. “Take your time, mijo. I’ll tell you if you can… use the remains.”

It was a chilled room with shelves of labeled containers, Vic always shivered a little bit in this space. Remus often shrugged it off and it looked like Roman was unaffected too. Remus liked colder weather and Roman just ran pretty hot, so it made sense to Vic. Roman paced around looking for whatever he needed here, not saying anything and a look of laser focus.

Eventually they stuck around the iguanas section, this zoo had a robust population that were crowd favorites. They were pretty well cared for there, but accidents, old age, and other things happen. A lot of times it was pretty open and shut cases for the zoo staff.

When Vic cleared Roman for a pair of specimens, and they had them splayed onto a table nearby. Roman asked, “There’s no cameras in here are there?”

Vic had to glance around before reassuring him, “Nope!”

“Okay, didn’t think so.”

Vic watched as a low growl came from Roman and energies gathered around him. This time he saw features of Roman’s Horror flicker into view, jagged claws and scaly skin. The skin looked ethereal and mid-molt, no wonder he seemed so agitated. 

Roman peeled off pieces of skin and gingerly swaddled the two lizards in it. In moments, the skin melted into them. They started to twitch uncontrollably like Galvani’s frogs. The green scales took on the same colors of his Horror, even though the iguanas’ natural color pattern remained.

These weren’t juveniles and weren’t exactly small – but they grew nearly a whole extra yard in length. Their claws and spines hardened, twisted, and darkened into gnarled lava glass. The teeth grew larger and sharper – no longer the herbivorous pattern they naturally had and so quickly that their jaws warped unevenly. Then, the two creatures curled up into a painful looking ball as each violently sprouted bloody wings. The blood crystallized into scales and the two creatures righted themselves as if nothing had happened.

Vic swore that the whole thing should have disturbed Roman, given how he acted around Remus’s horrorspawn. But Roman stood there with a hazy smile, petting them affectionately. Roman looked to Vic asking, “Aren’t Rubí and Oro the cutest?”

Vic blinked and stared at them, he and Remus had a bizarre definition of “cute” as it was. He could find something uncanny and endearing about these new horrorspawn – but he had enough social awareness to know that not many would upon looking at them.

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, given the time he wandered around in Roman’s soul. A solid reminder of what Roman and Remus were – there was no way of changing that. And he had no desire to.

They could unpack everything once Remus was back, safe and sound.

-

In the last week of October, Remus’s horrorspawn stopped harassing the brood entirely.

The instant midnight struck, making it officially All Hallow’s Eve, Remus left Roman another message. Only it didn’t sound like his brother at all, at least at first.

“Miss me? I hope you didn’t forget our appointment this fine evening? I’ve been building up to something and I’m looking forward to showing it to you all. I’ll be around the New Orleans Square. You won’t disappoint me, will you? Please please be there, Robro. I-I’m sca-!”

Again, he was cut off. Roman was relieved his brother was still alive out there, but he had no idea what to expect once at Disneyland. Everyone had whipped together some costumes beforehand. Besides being festive, it would provide some plausibly deniable cover for some of the brood’s planned supernatural activity. That’s what Janus asserted, anyways.

Roman couldn’t get out of his mind ever since he “talked” to Milo about making nightmares, the stupid nickname he got. He huffed, going for Jake Long’s outfit. It was still Disney, so it was good enough. The green highlights suited Remus more, if he was being honest with himself.

Everyone was to arrive at the park, except for Patton. Pretty much everyone was vocal about not endangering him by taking him along. Carrie was able to convince him to go trick-or-treating with those Heroes she met at the Ren Fair. He’d be in good hands. That didn’t stop her worrying about all the other park guests, nor whatever state Remus was in.

Virgil was restless about the separation, but Carrie was glad that he could be convinced this was for the best. Patton even cheerfully handed him the costume he wanted his brother to wear, which made Virgil flush with embarrassment. It was a Spider-Man suit – but at least he picked the black one from the third movie. Tastefully edgy.

Carrie found some amusement that Vic and Logan were dressed as fictional doctors, Dolittle and Frankenstein, respectively. Logan seemed more annoyed about it than Vic – so he used that magic to make them more distinguished. Logan cribbed from the Romantic Period attire and Vic was more contemporary. Vic asked to have some embroidery with animals on his own lab coat, Logan obliged in that embellishment.

Carrie herself dressed up like Elizabeth Swan, in a stylish replication of Sao Feng’s armor. She also tied on that enchanted bag, to hide her actual weapons from the gate crew. She did, however, bring along fake swords to assemble the look. She was more focused on wanting to completely and utterly exterminate the monster that took her son from her, but if that wasn’t feasible- she shook her head. She simply thought, “We’ll obliterate that bridge when we get to it.”

In addition to the contingency plan materials, Logan tossed a can of AXE body spray and a lighter into the bag. Carrie quirked an eyebrow and Logan simply answered, “Just in case.”

Janus didn’t really stray from their typical color scheme and elegance. When Vic asked about it, Janus smirked and showed him some fangs and a few fake blood squibs. Logan groaned, “A vampire, of course she picks that.”

This earned an indignant huff from Janus, and some much needed laughter from the remaining brood members. They were all sure they wouldn’t be able to appreciate the mirth at the park for long.

-

They arrived a few hours after noon.

The park was done up for the whole month to celebrate the occasion. Topping the entrance gates were several pumpkins and jack o’ lanterns fashioned into characters like Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, and Donald.

There were no incidents in line, as Roman had his horrorspawn sneak through ahead of them. There were a few scant glances at them, but no one intervened. The funny thing about all this supernatural stuff was how beings like himself had to pretend to be Normal. They could find some protection in the crowd, but he was sure that wasn’t going to remain the case soon.

Roman still had trouble getting into the mood like pretty much every year before this point. It was one of his and Remus’s favorite holidays. It was definitely Remus’s, to no one’s surprise. Roman had it tied with Christmas – that meant more treasure to his pile. He groaned, thinking, “Quit thinking like Remus is- no. I’m not even going to finish that thought.”

City Hall and the rest of Main Street were decorated with warm, fall colors: in the bunting, the marigolds, the carnations, and more jack o’lanterns peppering the buildings around them. Roman couldn’t focus very well, in between the overhanging dread and maintaining command of Rubí and Oro. Oro kept wanting to snatch away some of the carved pumpkins, littering the place. Rubí snuck off and stole one of those Mickey light spinners from some random guest that was too busy on the phone to notice it.

At least they hid from sight of most people here, when they returned with the objects he loved. It was energizing to him, but he had to tell them to stop doing it, just in case. His mom noticed how restless he was, “Roise, don’t worry too much, alright? We’ll find him. So help me-”

Roman noticed that terrifying fury simmering behind her eyes, fury and fear. He didn’t comment on that, “Th-thanks, mom…”

While they were still going north along Main Street, someone bumped into Virgil. Virgil didn’t seem to catch who they were beyond saying, “Geez, dude. Coming in here smelling like an entire brewery!?”

Roman’s attention snapped to them just before they got lost in the crowd. It was some random guy dressed as King Triton, his gait obviously drunken. He wore one of those golden sequin shirts, on top of all the canon stuff. He had a suspicious fanny pack around the waist and a replica of the Trident strapped to his back. The prop seemed familiar to Roman, somehow. It was a wonder how he managed to get past park security in such a state.

Despite some of his face being covered by a large costume beard, Roman suddenly recognized it. Roman elbowed Virgil, “I-I think that was the police chief, Vee.”

Virgil let out a hushed curse, “Why is he here!?”

“I don’t know!”

Roman was unsettled by that, “Was he going where I think he was going?”

Janus cleared their throat, “I believe he was heading into Frontierland.”

Vic piped up, “How-?”

Janus whispered to him, “You should know by now. I have eyes in many places, Val.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, as the rest of them renewed their focus. It was along the way to New Orleans Square. As they walked along the Rivers of America, everyone had a strange feeling. Carrie looked around first, “I-I think I can sense him nearby!”

The Beasts in the group nodded at each other.

Before much longer, Roman saw Remus standing there at the Photo Spot. Remus was staring at the docked Columbia, very still, with strange company. He was dressed like the others in the group, wearing burgundy robes. Roman shuddered about them being the so-called friends his brother mentioned. They reeked of overflowing fear and admiration, yet no other guests acknowledged their presence.

He looked back, “I-I want to try to talk to him, first.”

Janus whispered back, “Be careful.”

Virgil added, “We got your back. Because, someone has to.”

Roman took a deep breath and approached. He recognized at least one of the robed guys from the scalpers group and another one of the staff members from their high school. Another of them, a total stranger, had a more elaborate robe. They had a hand on his brother’s shoulders, they hadn’t moved the entire time. As he drew closer he saw just how sickly Remus appeared, it made him want to run toward him. “Remus! Is that you?”

Remus waved back eagerly, and once the distance was closed he wore an unhinged smile, “The, one and only, Robro!”

“A-are you okay?”

“Never better!”, Remus’s smile appeared forced, “But yeah, wanted to show off some new friends!”

The person who was still holding Remus’s shoulder smiled at Roman, “I’m sorry I took so long to properly introduce myself. You may call me Cass, you must be Roman! I’ve heard so much about you from My Sign.”

They reached out with a free hand. Roman noticed that it had burns on it and he shook his head vigorously, “Let go of him.”

Remus frowned, his face flashing with fear before that smile was plastered back on.

Cass’s tone became apathetic, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m its Herald and we are bonded by such a great Promise, you see?”

Roman looked more closely at where the two had contact and was immediately revolted. The arm was writhing and incomprehensibly inhuman and actually buried into his brother’s shoulder. Cass smiled as they went toward caressing Remus, more of Cass’s body boring into Remus.

Remus’s manner was delirious, “¿No es maravilloso Cass? ”

Roman saw red and went to try to rip Cass off his brother, but it happened too fast. In an instant, the Insatiable and Remus had merged completely into one another. “Say hello to my Harbingers! Go forth and tear at reality itself!”

From out of the river rose a fleet of Remus’s horrorspawn. Just like Remus, they looked wrong. They looked like they were rotting and blistered and some of the many eyes on them were clouded over. Before Roman could react – they started to dart off in different directions of the park.

That was the rest of the Brood’s cue to step in, before anyone could get hurt. The nearest crowd of guests ran off screaming, Carrie took the opportunity to shoot down one of the spawn, it took a few frantic reloads for it to fall and come apart. It was difficult with how unpredictably it moved and not wanting to hurt any of the guests.

Vic was restless, looking at Logan, “Do you feel that Ellis?”

Logan, nodded, “Unfortunately. It would seem they were here longer than we anticipated.”

Carrie spoke up, “What are you two-?”

The mages shivered moments before a fog rolled in. From the mist, phantoms appeared among the crowd. Some looked confused and benign, but many took more guests for a chase, some even entered the humans around them. Vic was told of one of the things that the Insatiable can do – thinning the veil between ghosts, spirits, and mortals. It could be so thin that those without Sight can see them, too. There was a reason for this to be the chosen day.

Familiar faces manifested before the party. The ghost of Steve gazing upon those who knew him with uncharacteristic resignation. He was somehow readable despite the poorly reconstructed approximation of what his face used to be. A few others had circled Remus, some Roman vaguely recognized, others not. Remus froze at the sight of one of them, as if he remembered something horrific.

Vic was told by Logan that ghosts like these typically weren’t able to speak and were drawn to whatever or whoever anchors them to the Material plane. This was entirely Logan’s wheelhouse and he seemed to remain cool about it all. Logan used some of his own magic to fend off whatever ghosts he could.

Ghosts weren’t the only thing that came out to play. Spirits were something Vic grew a sensitivity toward. Unlike ghosts, they were never human in nature. Manifestations of gluttony bleeding into view from the nearby restaurants. They impelled a few humans to overwhelm said venues to eat and eat and eat. To say nothing of representations for the many other emotions, drives, and concepts the park had distilled over its decades of existence – some had even taken the shape of Disney characters. One of those spirits of gluttony? It looked like Winnie the Pooh, and it seemed to be completely oblivious about its own influence. The sheer bedlam of it all made it hard for him to remain focused on why they were there.

Vic did grasp that Arcana well enough to shield himself against the more aggressive of these spirits. He narrowly avoided a metaphysical volley from a spirit in the shape of Clayton himself, approaching from Tarzan's Treehouse. Vic didn’t have the same command over them, like what Logan was demonstrating with the dead. He was just glad that Clayton's attention was taken by the crowd-swell, its very presence bringing some guests and Character Actors to violence against each other. Really, most of his concerns lied in the fate of his children, as selfish as that sounded. He just needed to stay out of harm's way and conserve energy, to provide healing where necessary.

Something that broke through the attention of the brood was Wayne running towards Remus, shouting, “KENNY!?”

The ghost that gripped Remus with fear slowly and mournfully looked over at Wayne. Kenny had looked like he was dismembered, the pieces floating roughly where they should normally. It looked like something had voraciously gnawed onto those pieces. Roman then recognized that face and name for the ghost – he didn’t have the time to connect more than that. Within that fanny pack, Wayne had somehow smuggled in a pistol.

Roman and Virgil ran after.

Something stopped Wayne’s pursuit cold, another ghost stood between Remus and Wayne. “D-Diane? Is that you? I heard from Ken- are you really-?”

Diane was mangled and parts of her looked like she was being eaten through by a powerful acid. Her face was screwed into a scowl, nodding. Wayne looked like he was going to collapse from grief, before she reached out to him. He reached back, allowing her possession of him. The union marched up and took aim. Diane’s voice came from Wayne with renewed and sober resolve, “You ruined everything! My big day! Our lives! MY life!”

Virgil looked about the area, webbed one of the nearest trash cans, and clipped out, “Oh no you don’t!”

Virgil pulled the bin and swung it into Wayne, just as he was about to squeeze the trigger.

Before the gun flew out of Wayne’s hands, he managed to fire a couple shots. Both missed Remus. One landed into Jim’s shoulder, the other vaguely toward Tom Sawyer’s Island. Jim immediately screamed as he attempted to take cover, despite the threat and pain, he never strayed too far from Remus. The union’s expression only got angrier, wincing and huffing, “Daddy Dearest. I think you had far too much to drink.”

Carrie dispatched another of Remus’s spawn. Wayne, during his attempt at recovery, fumbled in his reach for the trident. Virgil dashed up to Wayne before he could take up the weapon, aiming to neutralize that threat.

Roman approached his brother again. Remus seemed lucid and horrified in that moment, his eyes stuck on Kenny the entire time.

Roman shouted, “Taz, what’s going on!?”

Remus stammered, not registering Roman at all, “C-Cass, why did-?”

Remus doubled over vomiting and what came out was an endless tarry torrent. He heaved and heaved and heaved. It wasn’t natural, Roman dreaded to think what that fiend was doing to his brother. Roman stepped up close, unavoidably stepping in the mess, “Taz, are you still in there?”

Remus gave a few shuddering breaths before erupting into a broken cackle, it made Roman step back.

Not-Remus stood up straight, staring into Roman, “Not for long, morsel.”

Not-Remus charged after Roman with a murderous glare, his eyes holding a searing green glow and his sclera turning black. A glow made brighter against the dusky sky. Roman froze a moment before getting his spawn on the scene and jumping back, assisted by a powerful wing beat. The gust of wind also unsteadied Not-Remus’s pursuit.

Both Carrie and Vic cried out, in between all the threats, “REJOE!”

Roman’s voice trembled, “Remus. Please. Are you-!?”

Before vanishing into the Primordial Dream, Janus hissed out, “Remember. The Plan. Everyone!”

Not-Remus laughed, glancing where Janus once stood, “Running away?”

Roman lunged forward to tackle Remus, “Eyes on me, brother!”

Roman really tried not to injure Remus, while restraining him. Not-Remus cackled, seeming to know that Roman was holding back, they spat more of that tar into Roman’s face. It smelled like rot and Roman tried not to gag, letting go momentarily to wipe it clear. “Don’t you have any more fight in you?”

“If you would just stop fighting dirty-!”

Roman grappled Remus even harder, this time his claws drawing some blood. The back of Roman’s mind raced, hoping this plan was going to work, he just needed to buy everyone time. His dad could heal Remus after it was over, he hoped. He didn’t want to think about failure. He didn’t want to think about killing his own brother.

Wayne was desperately constrained by Virgil’s webs, wheezy screaming and coughing in the process. Vic glanced over and could tell the police chief had definitely broken a rib or few, in the scuffle. The union's gaze glared at Remus first, but darted toward Virgil and Roman, too. “I should have killed that thing when I had the chance!”

Virgil groaned, binding up Wayne tighter, “‘Didn’t even have one in hell, pig.”

Virgil was done with Wayne once he sealed the man’s mouth shut. He then went to help Roman’s horrorspawn and Carrie in destroying more of Remus’s.

Not-Remus kept thrashing and started shrieking in pain and fury against Roman’s hold, Roman grimaced, “I don’t know what this Promise bullshit is and I don’t fucking care!”

As more and more of Remus’s horrorspawn were knocked out, Remus started to look more and more sickly. And his body started to shift. His skin started to look like his Horror, only this wasn’t like normal atavism use. It was visceral and Remus looked like he was in the most pain Roman had ever seen.

Roman’s grip loosened enough for Remus to wriggle out from underneath. Remus stood up shakily and hunched over as his tentacles started coming forth. Roman was dumbstruck, as Remus dived into the nearby water feature.

Roman screamed, “REMUS!”

He was about to follow, but Remus surfaced before he could.

Remus still looked vaguely human. But his form was more twisted and imposing, with features of his own towering Horror looking more corporeal than ever. There were other details that were completely wrong, pieces of marine life that looked as if they were fused to Remus. If the stakes were any smaller, he would imagine Remus quipping about “Dead Man’s Chest” and Davy Jones’s cursed crew.

Barnacles, starfish, blue bottles. Many alien, vibrant and luminescent strands of tissue wrapped around Remus like a creeping vine. Many more of such strands floated freely, threatening to ensnare anything in reach. They were grotesque and beautiful, reminding Roman of those sparkling waterfall fireworks the park would use in their nightly shows. Only the trails hung from the tendrils in a stasis. Rather, it was like a shining beaded curtain, held together with gnarled strands of jellied viscera. A cross between Remus's own tentacles and something almost wing-like.

Roman remembered something either Remus or his dad brought up once…

Vic gasped, “That, that looks like a giant siphonophore! Everyone be careful!”

Vic was divided between trying to pacify the rampant spirits and running to help Remus. Logan stopped him, “Don’t. Janus is working on pulling Cass out of your son’s Lair. Cass appears to be desperate now.”

Virgil looked worried, “This almost looks like…”

Carrie asked, “What?”

“Something that Beasts can’t turn back from. But-”

“Hm?”

“Janus knows this stuff better, they really need to hurry up.”

Roman was getting frustrated, he jumped up from the nearest railing and just out of reach of those tendrils. Roman then burned the nearest appendage with his breath. This earned more wild flailing and inhuman screeching from Not-Remus.

Roman managed to disable a couple more of them, dodging many swipes to grab him. It was like Hercules versus the Hydra, there just seemed to be more around the corner. He was so focused on them that he didn’t expect one of Remus's tentacles managing to grab him by the foot and being yanked down into the water. It happened so fast, he didn’t have the chance to hold his breath.

Roman never wanted to experience what his brother did in his nightmares. Yet here he was, lungs burning for air, thrashing uselessly, a creeping sense of doom coming over him. The sensation worsened as he felt something else grab him and the stabbing, burning sensation spread all over, he realized he could no longer move.

Carrie hurled the magic bag to Logan. She took only her estoc with her as she sprinted and dived in the water without a thought. The Bright Dream mixing with her overwhelming desire to protect Roman in that moment, guided her blade. She sliced through something. She felt more sounds of pain coming from Not-Remus as she tried to scoop Roman up and out of the water.

When they surfaced, Vic immediately went to work resuscitating the unconscious Roman. Vic channeled his magic into counteracting the venom as he helped his son purge the water from his lungs.

Carrie looked back and saw the severed tentacle stub flail and bleed blue. Remus’s breathing was ragged, about to grab at anyone who got too close to the water before his eyes widened, staring at his brother.

Remus clutched himself as he lurched back onto dry land. He wanted to see if he was okay. His form was still twisted and wrong, and his legs felt like noodles, unaware they were still mostly in the form of tentacles. He didn’t get far before more sick erupted from his mouth. He passed out and his body slowly started to shrink aground.

Janus reappeared on the scene, at the foot of Remus. Janus's breathing was ragged, with a few tears and other things amiss in their outfit. They hissed in Remus's direction, bringing attention to it, "You owe me a new sssunhat!"

Janus then took up one of the unresponsive tendrils, wrapping it around their hand and pulled hard. 

More pain shot through Remus as he felt something being ripped out of him. He only had the energy to curl up as felt something loosen its grip around its soul. The pain started to wash away, he wasn’t aware enough to notice his body had slowly started to turn back to normal.

Janus stood there with an enormous, bloated, waterlogged corpse of something not even remotely human. An incomprehensible hodgepodge of rotting sea life parts, and far too many teeth. It reeked strongly of salty sea water, sulfur, and ammonia. It twitched and writhed, as it tried to take in Janus as another host.

Logan fashioned a magically enhanced flamethrower from his last minute additions to the inventory. He immediately blasted the mass that they all knew to be Cass. Cass recoiled from the wave of heat and so did Janus.

Logan then used his magic to command the ghosts to continue tearing apart Cass. Cass’s screams would have been a source of mirth if not for how it persisted in its writhing.

Virgil flinched before cocooning the portions of Cass and tacking them down before they could converge once more. Logan sighed, “Looks like it’s time for Plan B. Carrie? We don’t have much time to pull this off.”

They pulled forth the components to contain Cass, their special enchantments giving off an eerily hungry glow. Reliquaries mostly fashioned out of several gaudy pieces of costume jewelry, alongside that jar of dirt Roman suggested, to Logan’s bafflement at the time.

As Logan and Carrie worked together to imprison Cass piece by piece, the spell Cass had on the park was slowly receding. The Schism. They had to hurry and leave the scene before anyone held any suspicions on what transpired there.

The twins were stabilized, but still lethargic and disoriented according to Vic.

The party split up from there. It was the Espinoza parents and Logan’s job to transport Cass’s remains. None of the Beasts were willing to let that thing into the Primordial Dream as they used that path out of the park – the fastest way to get the twins back to the estate, courtesy of Janus this time.

-

Once they did reconvene, the exhaustion in everyone was evident. For the moment, Carrie and Vic were simply glad to have their children back and together again.

-

@milktea531 @r0sethrills

Feel free to ask to be on a tag list, if you wish!

(I’ll probably tag every other cross-post.)

-

[ Next ]

#spilled musing #sanders sides #begotten au #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders

[ultra-maha-us]

Iguana Pets - Tips on Choosing the Iguana Enclosure

Meanwhile your iguana pet is young, you can support it in an aquarium or a small terrarium, since it will be comfortable there until it grows up. Also while they are small, the green iguanas remain in the soil and not so much in the trees.

This way you have some time to be planning his definitive cage. The most usual thing is a wooden iguana enclosure, with one or more of the sides filled with hen-house wire, or a synthetic transparent material that allow a good visibility. Also it is possible to use glass, which is easy to clean and remains nice, but it is weighed and fragile at the time of installing it. The wire allows to escape the heat and if it is not tightened well it is possible to deform, but your iguana pet will love it because it offers them a good surface to climb and also it allows good ventilation on the iguana enclosure. You will have to choose the material most adapted according to the temperature of your house.

The Size:

The rule of dump here is always; the bigger, the better, period. It is necessary to bear in mind that iguana pets need big vertical space because they spend most of the time climbed trunks or platforms. It is recommended to be as high as the length of the iguana (including the tail) or more, the length must be 1 ½ the body of the iguana and the breadth, than 2/3 of the length iguana removal near me of the iguana. This type of cage can be located against the wall of a room and does not occupy so much floor space. With these measurements the iguana has place like to walk, to turn round and to climb.

Now it is necessary to give him a surface to climb. You can use thick sloping branches or ramps and some shelves in the end so that the iguana could rest there. Cover them with carpet of synthetic lawn so that it has where to stick with his fingernails, taking care that there do not stay free threads that could get entangled in the paws and hurt them. Another practical option and that remains nice is to wrap the branches or ramps with thick cords and them to adhere well so that they could not come undone and turn out to be dangerous. The iguanas usually spend most of the time climbed these high places, so it can be useful to locate there the heat source, but have the precaution of putting it out of his scope so that it could not burn himself.

The Substratum:

It is convenient to avoid any substratum that is loose, as sawdust, sand or gravel, since the iguana can be consumed and to cause intestinal obstructions. You can use any type of paper role without ink; this one is not very attractive, but it is replaced easily when dirty and is cheap. Also, you could used synthetic carpet, which remains nicer. A way of keeping it clean is to cover the surface with squares of carpet, this way when one gets dirty, you withdraw it and change it into other while you disinfect the one that you removed. You can use lye (to dilute a part for every water ten) having the precaution of clarifying it very well then. If the cage of your iguana is very big you can use chips of wood (not neither pine nor cedar, since they can be poisonous) on the soil. As the iguanas spend almost all the time in height they will only go down to defecate on short periods. In their wild habitat, the iguanas live on the sand without problems, but in captivity they tend to consume the material of the substratum because they are bored and locked up. Independently of the substratum that you choose, it is very important that you keep it clean and dry. The animals that live in a dirty ambiance have many more chances that any small skin wound becomes infected and to develop painful abscesses or blister disease.

Several people leave their iguanas pets free roaming around the house during part of the day. This alternative is good so they realize more exercise and so that they amuse themselves in a bigger and varied environment than the iguana enclosure. What it is necessary to bear in mind is that the whole place where they circulate is to the suitable temperature and that there are no plants or objects that could be dangerous. Also the iguanas usually do not learn to defecate in a salver, for what it is possible that you may have to clean the room after releasing it. The dregs of iguana can leave spots that they do not come out of the cloths. It is very important that you disinfect well the place where it has defecated, so if you do not do it, dangerous bacteria can develop (salmonella). If you like your iguana walking around the house (free roaming), you can re-decorate the room with some branches so that it climbs and to place a lamp on them so that it get heat. This way you will prevent from rising to the furniture and from damaging them with his claws.

[onlinebookclub-org]

Book of the Day, March 20th — Other Fiction

FREE Exclusively through the Onlinebookclub.org Review Team: https://forums.onlinebookclub.org/shelves/book.php?id=576483

Beyond The Headlights by Allan Davis

Published by Iguana Books

Beyond the Headlights illustrates the transcendent capacity in each of us to reach past our limitations of seeing, hearing, tasting, touching, and feeling — and to consider the possibility of reality on the other side.

Follow the story of a young girl named Aiyana, who believes she is two people through Acausal Parallelism- Aiyana and Chopin. She has never had a piano lesson, and has never heard a piece of Chopin’s music, but can play everything Chopin wrote.

#freebooks #fiction

[seabreeze2022]

Bahamas Cruise 2022, Part 25. May 11-18. Black Point, Big Majors.

Ms. Rolle, “The bread Lady”, sits outside “plaiting” during the day after baking her breads. You will see several of the older generation making a little money, sitting in the shade of a tree “plaiting straw”. Mostly women, but I have seen one man plaiting. They make long continuous rolls of plaited Palm leaves about 3-4 inch wide, which they sell to women in Nassau. Eventually it is made into bags for tourists.

This is becoming a lost art that this generation learned at an early age. They have been doing it since they were little kids. They have tried to pass it on to the kids and grandkids. Which do not have the time or interest. So this is a dying art. The men go out on the island and collect the palm leaves for the women to plait.

I had Ms. Rolle make me a small example of her work and then sign it with a sharpie. As she plaited, she told me several stories of her life in Black Point. Her husband Capt. Basil Rolle died at age 76 in 2015. Ms. Rolle signed my souvenir, “Peermon Rolle, 11 May 2022, Bread Lady”. She was such a pleasure to sit down and talk too. She was sharp as a tack knowing the days date, while I had to check my watch for date.

Ms. Marjorie “Peermon” Rolle, of Black Point settlement, at work plaiting.

Our son, Lars, flew in to Black Point. I walked to the airfield and met him. Then we walked back to the dinghy dock at Lorraine’s and headed to the boat. Once there, we pulled anchor and headed to Big Majors. Stopping at Bitter Guana Cay to check out the Iguanas. You are not suppose to feed them. But since they meet us at the dinghy and chased us down the beach, it is obvious that most people feed them.

Lars dropped Nancy and I off in the dinghy just south of Staniel Cay. We snorkeled two different light twin aircraft wrecks near the island. Lars motored around to the north west of Staniel where we met up with him.

The prop gouges in the nose of the wrecked aircraft says a few folks have found this wreck at low tide, the hard way.

Nancy and Lisa from “Bay Wind” were watching for the mail boat to arrive in Staniel Cay and resupply the grocery stores. We could see the Mail boat at the Government dock. So Lars took Nancy to General Isles Store and Lisa met her there. Once Rev. Burkie Rolle showed up with the supplies from the mailboat at the store. Nancy and Lisa volunteered to stock the shelves. Since Rev. Burkie only has one arm, this got the shelves stocked much faster so we could get going.

Lars feeding the swimming pigs of Big Majors.

Meet Bosun he is a huge puppy and can not get enough to eat. We showed up at Wrights boat with appetizers. Bosun is spoiled dog that has covered Wrights boat and dinghy with hair. Bosun would walk across the Bimini top to get to where we were holding the plates.

The next day we headed south stopping at White Point, see above.

This is a squall line moving in at Lee Stocking Island.

With lightning striking around us, I wrapped all portable electronics in Aluminum foil and placed them in the oven for protection. I like to have at least one each of a communication and navigation device that will survive a lightning strike to the boat. Each year we hear about a sailboat in the Bahamas losing their nav and radios after a lightning strike. The aluminum foil and oven act as a Faraday cage, protecting the electronics.

Lars stayed on the boat anchored 2 miles south as Nancy and I explored the beach on Prime Cay by dinghy.

Great beach where we found multiple cowrie shells.

The tides were extremely low and exposed this beautiful stand of Elk Horn Coral. These used to be plentiful in the Florida Keys, but 90% have died off. Need to pay attention where you drive your inflatable dinghy!

After a quick snack, we motored back to Lee Stocking Island.

We did some trolling the next day as we started heading north. I have not had a single hit yet. These cedar plugs were made for me by Neil from Wales. He is very successful with them in the Florida Keys.

Lars is helping me visually navigate into Farmers Cut. The current was ripping through here going in our direction. Light winds so no Rage today.

We anchored near Oven Rock for the night. Good holding to the north of the rock but not south, where the bottom is scoured by the current.

#SeaBreeze2022 #exuma #exumabahamas

[suga-catt]

What is their ideal vacation spot?

Favorite time of day?

The perfect gift to give them?

What is an item that they take everywhere with them?

Sweet or savory food?

Their ideal pet?

for Mint!! :3

What is their ideal vacation spot?

His birthplace of Naples, gets to chill with his family

Favorite time of day?

Evening, he likes to watch sunset

The perfect gift to give them?

Gems, odd rocks, or geodes, he has shelves of them.

What is an item that they take everywhere with them?

A peridot pendant that his papa gave him, he keeps it in storage to keep it safe

Sweet or savory food?

Sweet

Their ideal pet?

A reptile of sorts, maybe a bearded dragon or iguana

#ask oc #mint

[orca-iguana]

the few stars breaking through the mist, the moon guiding ships, and your light too, the nice wind coming in, as you lay down and wait for the moon to fall, as you are encompesed by mist like a hug from the night, see the stars like loving eyes from nix, and as nix gives you a hug, as nix guides the way for your heart when the sun is unable to guide your body, that, that is the most tender moment, the most sincere moment, when you are one with the night sky, when you are in your lighthouse, and in love.

#poetry #iguanas shelves #iguanas poetry #iguanas writing #lighthouses #ask to tag

[ratsoh-writes]

Lol, xD mmh..wait where do they live? Can ya describe their house and rooms? :0

Alrighty! They own two apartments in one of lords complexes. They’re on the fifth and top floor of the building have a small balcony shared between the two. The larger two bedroom kitchen and bath apartment is shared by gears and compass while the much smaller one bed and bath one is lived in by copper. He’s always popping into his sons apartment to use the laundry machines, the kitchen, or just for company.

They did their best to pay homage to the forest with their decor. House plants are everywhere, most of which were actually smuggled out of the cursed forest itself. There’s even a young potted fig tree on the balcony. It miraculously produces fruit every season. The floors are all concrete tiles so to soften it up, the boys added a lot of woven rugs. Handmade wooden shelves line the walls and are filled with old tools and new passion projects of coppers. The only electronics in the apartment are the appliances it came with and some kitchen aids. The boys do own phones though

Gears: his room is a lovely shade of light lavender with a large fluffy cream circular rug in the middle. Potted houseplants line the windowsill and are string up all over the wall that gets the most sunlight. The majority of the plants are some sort of fungus, or edible herbs. He also has a doggy bed in the corner for the iguanas

Compass: his room has cozy French grey walls and pretty grass woven curtains. A few superhero posters adorn the walls and a sleek white desk rests inside. Instead of a chair, he uses a literal tree stump lol. He has the heating pad for the iguanas I’m his room

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #nomadtale

[siren1song]

Sugarcoated

Summary: Patton is short, but he doesn't really mind it. And honestly? He minds it even less when he finds out the cute new employee can pick him up easy-peasy.

Warnings: Mentions of making out

Pairing: Intruality

General Taglist: @acanvasofabillionsuns​, @emo-disaster​, @greenninjagal-blog​, @jungle321jungle​, @sleepy-sides​, @gattonero17​, @izzynuggets​, @another-sandersidesblog​, @strawberryjellystuff​, @remusownsmyuwus​, @logic-with-a-pinch-of-deceit​, @demidork84​, @gr3ml1n-loser​, @main-chive​, @kiribakuandcats​, @firey-alex​, @orca-iguana​

Taglist for This: @jessibbb, @sanderssides-angst, @yalltookmyurlideas

Commissions!! | Buy Me a Kofi!! | Join Casper’s Crew!! | Ao3 Link!!

Notes: Tiny Patton and Remus picking him up. Tiny Patton and Remus picking him up.

Patton… was short. This wasn’t new to him, of course, but sometimes it could really be a pain in the tush. Being five foot one and working in a candy shop meant that sometimes he couldn’t reach the high shelves where all the individually wrapped hard candies were so young’uns couldn’t hurt themselves.

Which was what he was struggling to deal with right now, standing on his tip toes to refill one of the containers (he hadn’t been able to make Ivan and Steve stop flirting long enough to grab the step stool) and hoping he didn’t drop anything and waste stock.

He didn’t mind being short, but gosh being taller would be real nice right now.

Suddenly there was a hand guiding the bag of butterscotch away from the container Patton was trying to fill, and before he could protest, he was yelping because there was hands grabbing his waist and picking him up. Looking down with a flushed red face, trying not to wiggle too much when he was settled onto a shoulder, Patton saw the newest employee grinning up at him.

“Noticed you needed some help, hope this is okay?” Remus asked, patting Patton’s calf with the hand he had around his legs to help keep him balanced.

Oh goodness, he is strong being able to pick him up with as chubby as he was.

“Ah- Well I mean, in the future maybe ask before you pick me up? But uh… yeah this is a big help, thanks!” he said, unable to fight back his flustered giggle.

Remus’ grin grew wider, and Patton forced himself to focus on restocking the butterscotch instead of the swoop of butterflies in his belly at just how attractive that grin was.

Honestly, Patton hadn’t been expecting for there to be another instance where he was picked up. He’d moved the step stool to a new spot since Ivan and Steve kept flirting in that one, and nothing was too high for him to restock or clean with that thing.

He supposed physically picking him up and moving him away from the counter was one way to keep him from yelling at an entitled mother who thought her custom box of chocolates for her daughter wasn’t supposed to be as expensive as it was.

It was… also a way to distract him from his anger by making him remember just how gay he was for Remus. Which was a little bit of an issue considering Patton may be manager, but Logan was store owner and if de caught Remus saying what he was to the now scandalized mother, de would fire both of them. Remus for saying it and Patton for allowing it.

“Ah, Remus, please step back,” he said softly, grabbing his arm and catching Steve’s attention, nodding him in the direction of the woman.

Times like these, Patton was so grateful that Steve was so good at customer service.

Remus stepped back, following Patton when he gestured for him to do so.

They stepped into a supply closet, Patton not expecting to hear the click of the door closing behind them but forcing himself to not think about that right now because he needed to be professional and he couldn’t think about kissing someone who worked under him.

“I really appreciate you pulling me back out there,” he started, turning to face Remus before looking up for the light string, “but you can’t- dang it, I can’t reach that.”

Remus, without saying anything and wearing an amused grin, reached forward and pulled once on the chain.

Patton refused to acknowledge the showcasing of height made his face more red because he did not want to think about his attraction to Remus right now.

“Uh… thank you. Anyway, you can’t talk to customers like that, whether they’re rude or not-”

“You looked pretty close to ripping her head off yourself,” Remus commented, his grin growing when Patton spluttered a little in response.

“Yeah, well I just…” Patton sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and pursing his lips a little in a small pout, “she was calling Lo mean things, and deir my friend not just my boss.”

Remus nodded, making a vague sound of agreement that had Patton looking back up at him to see-

Oh. Oh. He is definitely watching his mouth, oh goodness.

“Yeah I heard, I’ve got ears. And eyes.”

“Uh… what does… your vision have to do with anything?” Patton asked, taking a step back and forcing back a squeak when his back met the wall.

Maybe a closet wasn’t the best decision to have a private conversation.

“Nothing important. Just noticing the cute manager and how flustered he gets around me. Say, question,” Remus said, interrupting Patton before he could even respond to the flirt.

“Oh, uh, answer,” he responded, his mind a little scrambled because Remus had just taken two steps closer and now there was barely two feet between them.

“What’s the policy on dating here?” he asked, taking one more step forward.

If Patton’s face wasn’t red before, it sure as heck was now.

“It’s um. It’s frowned upon.”

“Cool, I quit then,” Remus said and then he was tilting Patton’s face upwards just a bit more so he could place a kiss on his lips.

And well… if he quit, then Patton was going to let himself enjoy this.

“Patton,” Logan started, arms crossed over deir chest as de looked over deir glasses at Patton.

“Logan,” Patton responded, struggling not to giggle as he cupped his hand over the two hickeys on his neck, his other hand supporting his elbow as he stood in Logan’s office.

Percy, the one person in the candy shop who was fed up with all the flirting, had ended up walking in on him and Remus while they were kissing and had ratted Patton out to Logan.

Well… kissing was a light word for it, but Patton couldn’t find it in himself to care at this exact moment.

Logan sighed, rubbing deir temple while Patton finally let out the giggles he’d been struggling to hold back the last twenty minutes.

“I hope you know I’m going to have to put you on unpaid leave, Pat,” de said, giving Patton a tired look that turned Patton’s grin into a sheepish smile.

“I know now? How long?” he asked, tapping his fingers against his elbow and shifting his feet.

He kind of wanted to leave already. Remus was waiting for him in the employee parking lot.

“A week. Please don’t make out in the shop again, and especially not on the clock,” Logan said, giving Patton a pointed look that had him giggling again.

“Yep! Lesson learned! See you tomorrow!” he said, starting to back out of the room.

Logan frowned in confusion.

“Why tomorrow? Isn’t it your night to make dinner?”

Patton gave Logan a cheeky grin.

“You can cook, can’t you?”

And then he was out the door. Sure, that may not be the nicest way to go about things, and he would definitely be apologizing to dem later for flaking out on his night to cook, but he really wanted to spend some more time with Remus, and he’d promised him a fun time.

With how the twenty minutes in the supply closet went, Patton was honestly inclined to believe that.

When Patton stepped out of the building, Remus stood up from where he was leaning on his truck and waved him over with a grin.

“Hey sunshine, didn’t get fired did you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Patton once he was within a reasonable talking distance.

“No, but I’m on unpaid leave for a week.”

Remus blew a raspberry, making Patton giggle.

“Well shit. Bright side though, that means a little more time for us, huh sweetheart?” Remus asked, pulling the passenger door open.

Patton giggled and took a step forward to climb in.

Before he could, Remus had his hands on Patton’s waist and lifted him into the truck. Patton was going to protest, but Remus already his lips on his.

“I’d say that makes the leave worth it,” he said, words a little breathless, when Remus pulled away.

Remus chuckled, pecking his cheek and making him giggle when his mustache tickled his skin.

“Gotta agree there, butterscotch.”

#casper writes #ts patton #ts remus #ts logan #intruality #platonic logicality #making out #nonbinary logan #logan uses de/dem/deirs pronouns #ahhhh this was!! so cute #i loved writing it so much #there was so much formatting for this oh my God #i stg if i forgot smth i Will cry

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Speak No Evil (Last Part)

There isn’t much yet, just a few simple bowls and plates that she has shaped and TyLee has painted and a single ceramic shell. Soon enough the tables will be overflowing with pottery and maybe a few sculptures; TyLee has taken to making little figurines and animals out of coconut shells. 

And in due time they will open the shop for folks to drop in and make bowls and cups for themselves. “How about this? I think that putting some potted heliconia in each corner would liven up the place. And then I was thinking that we could surrounded them with shells and polished stones…”

‘That’s fine.’ Azula etches into the clay. Much of the hard work has already been done; the rooms are well furnished and the place has been scrubbed top to bottom. Everything looks pristine, as though they are the first people to have occupied the building. Much of the furniture consists of work benches, pottery wheels, designated shelves for finished and unfinished pieces, shelves for pieces to be sold, and cabinets full of tools and paints. 

She has left the upper floor available for sleeping should they want to spend the night in the shop instead of going home. Up there, there is a bed and a pai sho table as well as several cushions and scrolls to read. 

Azula taps her chin, she thinks that there is still something missing. Perhaps they should string up a few more lanterns. Yes, and a few more small candles and stones for the window sills would be lovely. Red jasper and tiger’s eye perhaps? And maybe a sunstone. She writes this down for TyLee. 

The atmosphere isn’t unlike that of their permeate residence. They have fixed that place up well and good too. Her old family beach house feels much warmer now with an absurd over-abundance of seashell print pillows and cushions--TyLee’s choice--and an arrangement of many candles of Azula’s own choosing. The incense and candle smoke helps clear her mind and soothe her. There is a zither in the corner for when she is bored and needs a new hobby to try, mostly it is for decoration. Paper fans and kayak oars hang upon the walls among starfish and shells that they have facened to the walls. And the ceiling is overtaken by banners of fishing nets which TyLee has artfully strung more shells into. And Azula has taken to arranging little dragon figurines and crystals upon end tables and nightstands.

Azula thinks that the walls of the pottery shop could use some more glamor. ‘We should hang something up.’ She gestures to the wall. 

“Maybe we can paint the walls, just whenever we get bored. Or we can let other people come in and do art?”

Azula shakes her head, ‘too unorganized, I want some coordination. Besides they’re already going to be painting bowls. ’

TyLee nods. “We can get more turtle shells. Oh! And maybe we can get one of those ship steering wheels!”

‘That is so tacky.’ Azula rolls her eyes.

“So that’s a yes.”

Azula nods. ‘People like tacky.’

TyLee laughs. “So this is good enough for now?” 

Azula wanders over to the curtains and straightens them. ‘We can open the shop tomorrow. I’d like to get a few more pieces finished before then.’ She rolls up her slab of clay and begins shaping it. 

.oOo.

It is always a treat to watch Azula work. Her focus is entirely unwavering. TyLee watches her fingers press and pinch the clay until she is satisfied. She is eyeing the turtle crab that Seicho had fished up for her two days prior. 

TyLee couldn’t possibly part ways with it, not after she had already named it Miki. She is certain that Azula thinks that it is silly but she has also caught the princess running her pointer over Miki’s shell several times. 

“We should get an iguana-parrot!”

Her concentration breaks briefly. She rolls out a new discussion slab and etches a quick, ‘we already have a turtle-crab to take care of.’ She pauses. ‘And it won’t sit still enough for me to use it as a model…’

“Of course not! It’s a turtle-crab, it has no concept of becoming a work of art.” She leans over Azula shoulder and sweeps some loose strands of hair out of her face. “It’s getting long again, you’re going to have to start tying this up.” 

Azula wipes the back of her hand across her forehead before writing, ‘yes, I’ll worry about that next time.’

“It looks really good.” She gestures to the clay likeness of Miki. 

‘Are you going to make anything?’

“I already have.” TyLee gestures to her own table.

Azula blinks. ‘TyLee...what are those?’

There are about twelve little lumps sitting on the table. Each lump has its own clay hat or tool, some of them have both. Like the one with a straw hat and fishing pole. “They’re blobs with jobs! See, that one’s a fisherman and that one’s a farmer. That one runs a tea shop and that one is a fire lord.” She points at each and reveals it’s job.

‘Why do I have a feeling that everyone is going to love those?’

“Because they’re super cute and you love them too.” TyLee carries them out to the kiln and re-enters the shop. “I think that we should have a whole table full of them.”

‘If you can make that many.’ Azula affixes a final claw onto her own piece before taking a step back to appreciate her work. ‘It just has to dry.’ She moves to flip her talking slab over. 

“You should put that in the kiln too.”

Azula furrows her brows and points at the slab.

TyLee nods, “yeah we can save all of our conversations.”

‘Perhaps I do not want to preserve them all.’ 

“Because you don’t want anyone to know that you misspelled mango three days ago?”

Azula folds her arms across her chest, a small pout decorating her lips. TyLee stoops down and gives them a kiss. The princess touches TyLee’s cheek before standing up. ‘Let’s go take a walk to Seicho’s while the clay dries. Perhaps she’ll know where we can find a ship steering wheel.’

“Doesn’t her brother captain ships?” 

‘Her brother has a lot of jobs.’ Azula shrugs. 

Whether they come back with a ship wheel or not, she is glad that Azula is up and about. She seems much more vibrant and happy since they have arrived on Ember Island. Her skin has regained its color and her eyes are brighter. They don’t seem so tired and she doesn’t seem as tense. 

It isn’t uncommon to find her walking along the beach in the earliest hours of the morning or standing on the dock and staring off into the horizon at sundown. It is even less uncommon for TyLee to wander out and join her. Sometimes Azula will make conversation in the sand, most of the time she like to lay in TyLee’s arms and watch the horizon. It has become a habit to listen to the lapping of the water and the steady sound of the princess’ breathing. It is her favorite way to start or end the day. 

She takes Azula’s hand and smiles, it is such a far cry from how things used to be. How loud and how terrifying things had been. She feels Azula’s fingers close around hers. The princess is still fussy and moody sometimes, but Agni, she is a lot easier to confront and talk to. TyLee wonders if Azula agrees that she has been conversing much more freely without her voice. 

Azula pauses for a moment in front of the pottery shop and TyLee turns around too. She takes a step back and clasps her hands, “Azula it’s so beautiful!” This thing that they have built for themselves. She isn’t sure if she is speaking of the pottery shop or of their relationship. “I think that this is going to be really great for us.”

Azula looks up and nods. 

There is a sense of confidence and accomplishment in her aura. An aura that had formerly been so distressingly muted.

.oOo.

Azula smile’s at a first day’s success. 

The first success of her new life. 

TyLee slings an arm over her shoulder. “We’re doing good. I think that we’re doing really good.” 

Azula nods, ‘good indeed.’ She mouths. It is actually quite better than good, she thinks. Significantly better.

The breeze billows the curtains and clicks and clacks the shells hanging in the doorway and on the rafters. The smell of coconut oil and burning clay is a constant. She sits with TyLee on the patio watching the last two customers in the shop wander back down the shell paving stones. 

Azula lights the patio torches and a few incense cones and puts fire in the paper lanterns. From somewhere down the beach she can hear distant party music, a constant beating of drums and plucking of strings. 

“We got some letters from Zuko and Mai.” TyLee holds them up. 

Azula sits herself down and picks a slice of pineapple off of the platter in front of her. “What do they say?”

“Zuko just wants to know how everything is going and if we’re settled in yet.”

Azula gazes out towards the water. She certainly feels cozy enough. She takes the letter from TyLee’s hand and skims it over. She will respond in the morning, for now she is content to enjoy the moment. It isn’t anything particularly grand and yet there is grandeur in simplicity. In having something so small to appreciate and someone to appreciate it with. Perhaps tomorrow she will invited Seicho and her brother to join them after they close shop for the night.

She wanders to the railing and surveys the world below. The stretch of sand and the people crossing it. “It’s a really nice view.” TyLee muses. She leans upon the railing next to her.  Nice is certainly one way of putting it even if it is an understatement. Truthfully, the view is more than that. It is reassuring somehow, it brings a vibrence to her soul. A little something for her to look forward to. 

When she looks away from the sunset reflecting upon the water she is greeted by the jungle, by a lush and rustling canopy. By palm fronds brushing against one another and a kaleidoscope of colorful birds.  

She looks over her shoulder. In the other direction the volcano looms in the backdrop. 

She hasn’t thought about that volcano in a long time. She decides that it is where it belongs; in the background. A silhouette that reminds her to keep climbing.

Briefly she thinks of returning; of taking TyLee and Seicho to its rim but then what good would that really do? No, she is content to keep it as mundane as any other large rock on the beach. Really, there isn’t any sense in looking back at all--not when there is a future to look towards. 

She wraps her arms around TyLee and listens to the rush of the waves and the titter of the birds as they settle down for the night. And in the morning when they take flight again she will open the unlock the doors to the shop once more. Will open the windows and mold her clay with the taste of brine on her tongue and the sun on her face. Will listen to TyLee hum as she makes another set of her silly little blobs. Perhaps she will send one of those back home to Zuzu. 

It will be nice to write something lighter to Chiako. Something more optimistic.

 It is only when she puts her brush to the parchment that night does it truly settle in that she feels okay. More than okay. She feels well and content. She finds that she has a lot to say in her letters, a lot to confess and a lot to share. 

TyLee is already curled up on the bed, otherwise she would be peeking over Azula’s shoulders at the letters. Although, Azula supposes that she wouldn’t mind if the woman did. She jots down a few final thoughts. Thoughts about how fixing up that old beach house feels like fixing up her life; reclaiming the delights that Ember Island had brought her so long ago feels like reclaiming her life once and for all. 

She seals the letters and climbs into bed. Even after all of this time it is still a relief to have the woman in her arms again. To hear her sleepy mumbles and to have her rolling over in the middle of the night to cling to her. 

She closes her eyes. 

Her throat no longer aches. 

The place where her voice no longer dwells doesn’t feel so empty. 

Her heart doesn’t feel so vacant. 

She doesn’t feel so hollow. 

Azula squeezes TyLee and TyLee squeezes a stuffed tiger-monkey. One a fabric daisy sewn onto its ear and a golden ribbon tied around its neck.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #TyLee #TyZula #Fanfiction

[zeoumren]

The skeletons, the swamp and the song bird(undertale  drabble)

I am not gonna post this to Ao3 (probably) but I wanted to  write something about the boys™ ( y’know San’s Red and Skull because they spark joy) and I ended up making...a swamp monster Au? hey, you know what sure. I'm chill. 

So please enjoy this little drabble 

Sans is half blue spotted salamander 

Red is half Marine  iguana

And our boy skull is an unholy amalgam of  giant leeches  that makes him look  like he has tentacles. c: 

It had been another indescribably shitty day.

You were not a pessimist but the dark circles under your eyes had something to say about your lifestyle. 

It was shit, plain and simple. You had a hard time separating your real life from your work life and that lead to more stress, less sleep and a pissy boss telling you to get your act together before coming back to the venue.

A sigh left you as you sat hunched over on a stump in the forest clearing. 

This was your quiet place, you came here to sing and practice routines.

You were an entertainer and it was hard not to keep your mask on, you pretended all the time to be someone...something you were not it was hard when someone asked you about yourself because you didn't know who you were off the stage anymore.

So yeah, life was kinda shit right now so you threw yourself into what you normally did when you hiked up here, into the humid underbrush of a forest no one wanted to come to, legends of creatures eating full-grown men whole and actual real dangers surrounded this place, but you didn’t much care anymore.

After all, the ones who were more dangerous were outside the forest.

Taking off a ball cap and letting your hair tumble free you wipe your brow free of sweat and kick your legs as you sit.

Most of the forest was loud, full if chattering and nattering of birds and other creatures, but this space that just dropped off into a bog, was quiet.

You liked to come here in the wee hours of the morning and watch the fog roll off the algae-green water, it made for the perfect ambience to a forlorn song or a crooning that let all your own heartbreak loose.

But today, in the evening after being told your routine was shit and you were one slip up from being let go and replaced by someone new, who you had no grievance with, but it was the principal of the matter, you had worked so hard to get to sing and perform for crowds and now….you were having it dangled above your head.

You grit your teeth and for the first time since you ever came here you let out a cry of pure frustration and rage.

The quiet never broke, even through all your angered screaming, then looking between your knees as you sat and into the murky water you buried your head in your hands and wept.

You did not know what to do! It was all too much all at once.

Still, you came back to a familiar song, even with a tearful voice.

"Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird teach me how to sing."

You were able to get a few verses in before the sun began to Dip down below the horizon and you got up from your perch.

No point trying to navigate this quagmire in the gloom.

You took careful steps, keeping to the path you always did when something caught your attention. A pale bluish light hovering in the air, soon being joined by more close by of other colours…you spotted red as well, and a strange, almost grey-blue light. You hummed to yourself, reminded of the fact that this was a bog, and swamp gas igniting was a thing. Still, you stopped and stared, a smile playing at your lips.

"Wow, this is the most beautiful light show I have ever seen! And people say the Fen is haunted. More like hauntingly beautiful!"

You giggle to yourself and don't even notice the lights flare brighter at your statement.

You always loved the Gloom, you just never knew the gloom loved you back.

---

Well….you never thought it could get worse, but even after giving it your all you still ended up being fired. 

So you came to the bog to say your goodbyes. You probably would have to move back into your parent’s town.

"I'm gonna miss this place, not the shitty managers, or the fights...but I always thought the locals were silly to be afraid. This place is so magical and I'm really gonna miss it…" 

It was weird, saying goodbye to a place. But you somehow still ended up crying a little.

And for the first time ever in this clearing, you heard a sound.

A mournful wailing, deep like a foghorn that rattled into your very bones.

It looked like the Bog itself had seemed to shift, the top layer of Jenny green teeth giving way to the sound of mud slurping and water gushing.

You couldn't move, frozen to the spot as you watched in awed terror.

Writhing tentacles that moved like leeches and were just as black moved towards you, you figured this was it, you were dead. You sucked in a breath and screwed your eyes up tight.

You were startled as the wet appendages slowly ran over your cheek. Delicately.

You cracked open an eye and saw there in the water a skull, a giant gaping hole that looked painful gushing water as it rose, one of its eyes was devoid of light and the other…

Was a deep crimson, the colour of blood.

Yet it smiled softly, even with so many teeth.

The tentacles seemed to be coming from it and it made you cock your head to the side as it almost shyly drew closer, hauling more of its body out of the water.

Its torso was also skeletal, and it was gigantic, at least eight feet tall without including its lower half.

You thought of story's of swamp hags dragging people under and looked at this...it seemed to fit some sort of description...it definitely looked like a drowned corpse.

But as it hauled itself out of the water and you saw how it slid over to you in one fluid motion, how its bones melded into strange dark tentacles, how it's eye lit up when it reached a skeletal hand over to pat your hair.

This was surreal, strange in every sense of the word. Your voice caught in your throat as  two other skulls, smaller than the first bobbed in the water, one had white pinpricks of light for eyes like the stars in the sky, the other had sharper teeth and predatory red slits for eye lights.

They shared a look and dipped under the surface, leaving you with the behemoth.

It was so strange having something so giant hold your face and look you over, play with your hair.

You finally found your voice, it wobbled despite your best efforts.

"S-sorry to bother you...I didn't know anyone lived here. Don't worry I will go."

The touching and playing stopped and it said one word that made your stomach drop and your bones freeze.

"N o."

It was soft, but full of a strange emotion you could not understand and you felt your eyes widen in shock as millions of tentacles surrounded you, even if you were to scream it would come out muffled as the world was blotted out by the writhing darkness.

---

The moment you were spat out from the inky prison you were on a shore...a tiny island with a cave in the center.

You were surrounded by the bog and your heart sped up when you saw the water froth and churn.

Out of the murk popped the small skeletal creature...white eyes.

He watched you curiously before sliding up onto the island. His lower body made you actually smile, he looked like some sort of blue newt from the waist down. That was it. You had to have bumped your head and were slowly bleeding out. None of this was possible.

So, since this is probably a weird dream induced by bloodless, you may as well be nice. You smile and wave to the creature who looks shocked and  his skeletal face flushes a bright blue as little wisps of blue light curl around him.

He Pat's his face roughly and scampers off into the cave.

"Bye lil guy." 

The next thing you know you are being tackled and you are staring up at a grinning maw full of sharp teeth and slit red eyes.

"Um...are you going to eat me?"

If you are already dying you may as well just get that question out of the way. The newt skeleton seemed harmless...but this one…

It looked more like one of those lizards that catches fish, it had sharp claws on both its skeletal and reptilian appendages. This was a predator and it could rip you apart...yet you were suprised when it laughed and started ...purring?

It was a gravely sound that you felt in your bones, but it was strangely warm.

"Heh, cute but I'm not gonna even try songbird. Skull would kill me...oh speak of the devil. Goodluck sweetness.~"

He scrambled off of you, but not before licking your cheek with a forked red tongue.

He too wandered off to the cave...it struck you that these creatures could talk, which sent your mind reeling, even as you were picked up by curling black tentacles.

You crossed your arms and looked at the creature holding you.

Skull...right?

"So...are you going to eat me?"

Skull...looked horrified. His one eye light got impossibly small and he surged out of the water, reaching out to hold you...your clothing was no doubt ruined by now and everything felt so surreal. He scooped you up and you were shocked by how warm he was.

"No. Wont. Keep you safe."

You blinked softly.

Huh.

"Can I go home?"

You were squeezed a little tighter and you realized he was bringing you to the cave.

"Keep you safe."

You were placed up high on a rocky shelf that was covered with sweet smelling moss and animal skins. tentacles retreating after softly patting your head. You blinked in the low light.

It...was a little home? The cave had three rocky pools of water and some different shelves and outcroppings. You held in your grasp of wonder as all around you little jars filled with bioluminescent blue mushrooms blinked to life in the growing gloom. 

You may be dead...but you guessed there were worse places to be dead. You looked down and waved at the little newtiton and received a wink from the skelezard.

Skull was winding himself into a ball of tentacles inside the biggest pool while the other two were resting on old animal skins and warming up by a fire that crackled with the smell of roasting fish.

You sighed softly and laid down on the surprisingly soft moss.

You guessed this was fine for now.

It is not like you had anywhere to be and you were safe, unless you were already dead...plus you probably were in shock, nothing felt real right now.

Closing your eyes you heard three separate voices call out to say the same thing.

" Good night songbird" 

---

"How long do you think she will sleep for?"

Sans stifled a yawn as he had stayed up to chat with the others.

It was no fair, he had found you first, someone singing in the early morning just for him. He had hoped to lure you with the will-o-the-wisp's into the water at first but in the end he had let you go. You were just...your song was so sad.

Mournful.

He couldn't bring himself to hurt you, and you came back. A new song each day that felt like it was just for him.

Then Red had to show up and decide he liked your singing too.

And you came once or twice at night so, skull found out too. Skull was dangerous, sans thought for sure you were dead but the behemoth seemed smitten. He liked your happy songs filled with love, your sad songs filled with loss...you sounded like you had lived all these songs.

Then you came to the fen not with a song, but with tears, with frustration and heartbreak.

And yet you had still called their home beautiful...their lights that they put up to cheer you...you called them beautiful too.

And of course it was hard to hold skull back from wanting to take you then.

"I dunno squirt. But Hell. I know she deserves some sleep...she always looks so tired. But she still hikes out here everyday."

Red growled and looked up at your sleeping form.

Their songbird was suffering all this time and they never noticed until now.

It made his instincts flare up. He had to protect you...he had to, you were too fragile to keep out of sight for long.

If he did someone else might hurt you.

You were better off here.

He may be adverse to skulls method of getting you here, but now that you were…

"So, we all agree we are keeping her?"

Sans thought it over and nodded, he may not want to share, but he was stuck in this situation now.

"...I mean...I don't want her to leave, and she is so tiny and thin. We should probably take care of her."

"Protect little bird. Needs to eat more."

Skull was already in full nesting mode with you here. It was weird to see someone so...feral become a purring kitten in your presence.

They all stopped and stared all three skulls snapping up to the shelf when you cooed out a little yawn before rolling over in your sleep. 

"...too cute."

Skull was holding his face and twirling his tentacles into tight knots. He probably wanted to hold you.

"Stars, yeah we gotta keep her. I'll get her more furs for her nest tomorrow."

And now Red was gone too. His mind working on instinct to protect, provide and comfort.

Though sans was not much better. He was already trying to figure out where to catch more humans and extort them for favours so they would give him things for you.

Yes. They all looked at each other and nodded.

The songbird was theirs. The world would never harm them again.

#Undertale #Undertale AU #Skull #Red #Sans #horrortale #Underfell #Underswamp #yeah #thats a good name #Look #they just #wanna protec MC #MC: I gotta stop doing what I love and leave town :c #The boys: DENIED #When YOU are the siren to the swamp monster #Monster boyfriends #YEEEE #Drabble #Fanfic #Oops I made a new AU #zeo writes #fanfic #fanfiction

[nudne]

my mum: aw are you crying because of prince philip?

me, watching a video of the giant iguana climbing shelves in a grocery store: huh? oh ...yeah :(

#he's just so big. why is he climbing those shelves #.txt

[pascalls]

Huzzah! A romance prompt:

Hot Chocolate

I finally wrote something for this and it’s so dumb but I hope you all enjoy it. Featuring Charlie, Sam the Barfly, and Moe (and also Barney a little bit). 

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

With the taste of malt liquor stale on his tongue, Charlie found himself coming back to consciousness, a musky scent filling his nose and making him want to gag. The greasy floor he was laying on was hard and uncomfortable, having left his bones aching and his back feeling like he’d just been hit by a car. His eyes opened, despite his brain not wanting to, and for once, he was thankful that the lighting in Moe’s was subpar, at best. The dusty interior was not an aggravated assault on the senses, but still, he would have liked to have woken up in a bed instead of on the hard tile. 

“Ugh… What time is it,” he groaned, not yet sitting up, but at least trying to peer over to where Moe was hovering, lazily wiping down the bar top with an overused rag. There was no way it was morning yet. Or, at least, it wasn’t past sunrise. Otherwise Moe would be pouring vodka into his bowl of Froot Loops. It didn’t seem like he’d gone to bed yet. 

“Two-thirty,” the bartender responded. He didn’t seem very bothered by the fact that Charlie had passed out on the floor. Not like it was the first time. As of late, the hybrid had a bad habit of finding some kind of substance, chasing it with his body weight in whiskey, and then promptly falling asleep before he could make it back to the reverend’s. “You slept with Barney.”

“I what-?!” Charlie exclaimed, pushing himself up, only to whack his head on the underside of the table he’d holed up under. His ears rang and he groaned again, reaching up to rub at his scalp. Ow.

“Oh. Hah. Sorry. I meant you fell asleep under the table next to Barney.”

Charlie glanced over to see that Moe was correct. Barney had somehow rolled off the bar stool he’d been sitting on a few hours prior, passing out unceremoniously underneath the large circular table that was neighbor to Charlie’s. The hybrid muttered to himself before eventually crawling out from under his sleeping spot, making his way over to the bar to sit and glaring at Moe. 

“Don’t ever scare me like that ever again.”

They weren’t alone. While Barney had opted for a nap, Charlie recognized a few others still lingering in the wee hours of the morning. He assumed both Lenny and Carl had staggered home not too long ago, but both Larry and Sam remained, neither seeming to be very invested in their own consciousness. As was the usual. Charlie’s stare lingered for just a moment before Moe was pulling his attention back. 

“You wanna nightcap?” He asked, already in the process of grabbing a nearby bottle which Charlie quickly refused. His stomach was churning a bit from his previous binge. He didn’t need to lose everything he’d eaten during the day on top of his splitting headache and exhaustion. 

“No, m’fine. I should probably… go before somebody gets on my ass about not being where I need to be.” 

“Alright, but you better not be drivin’.” Moe pointed at the hybrid with a squint; one that Charlie returned in kind.

“I don’t have a car.” 

“I figured you’d steal one.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because that’s what I’d do.”

Rolling his eyes, Charlie scooted off the stool and made his way to the door, passing the other two men briefly and giving them a passing wave. He’d talked to the pair once or twice. They were wordier when they were drunk, but only just so. And somewhere in the back of his mind, Charlie reminded himself, that Sam knew a little more about Charlie by pure happenstance. Thankfully, he’d remained fairly quiet about that too. 

Swinging open the door, Charlie took a few steps outside before he realized - a little too late - that rain was coming down fairly heavily. There was no wind to carry it in one direction or another, the drops simply pouring onto the pavement and soaking Charlie entirely. The hybrid stared dully into the distance. This might as well happen. 

He didn’t move from where he was, just sort of standing there on the sidewalk and feeling his clothes get more and more soaked through. His brain didn’t seem to think that was much of an issue, but his feet refused to carry him in the direction of home. Instead, he continued to stare into nothingness, exhaustion - and a sudden heavy veil of listlessness - keeping him rooted to the spot. Somewhere along the line, he began to realize that his temperature was dropping. That was probably not good. He’d have to fix that before long.

“...You’re gettin’ all wet.”

The voice pulled him back to the present, turning and noticing that Sam and Larry had finally made their way out of Moe’s, presumably to retire for the night before they too passed out next to Barney. Larry was already walking away, his jacket collar pulled up in a fruitless effort to protect him from the rain. Sam, on the other hand, at least had an umbrella keeping him dry as he stared at Charlie with some manner of concern. 

“...Uh. Yeah. I guess I am,” Charlie replied, blinking once or twice and then glancing down at himself. Hm. Well. Yeah. He was wet. Wow.

Sam glanced around briefly before taking a few steps over and placing the umbrella over the both of them. As he spoke, his words slurred, but Charlie didn’t notice over his own foggy state of mind. “You’re not some kinda marine iguana or somethin’ right? I think they like water. Saw it on uh… Mm… That… science… channel once.”

“National Geographic?” Charlie asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Nah…” Sam replied. “ESPN 2.”

The hybrid snorted in amusement. “No. I’m not a marine iguana. I’m just… really drunk, I think.” Among other things. He’d taken some mixture of pills that he would not recommend to anyone else. But they would make their way out of his system eventually. “Uh… Thanks. For the…” He gestured to the umbrella. 

“Honestly, this weather ain’t great for walking. Y’think Moe’s got anything to eat in there?”

Charlie seemed to give that some thought. It was already the middle of the night. And if Lovejoy wasn’t blowing up his phone by now, the chances of him noticing any time before sunrise was slim. He hummed a little under his breath before shrugging. It was probably best he filled his stomach with something other than booze and pills. 

“Let’s ask.”

Sam didn’t need much convincing himself before he moved to keep them marginally dry as they wandered back into the bar. Moe had been in the process of trying to roll Barney over with a broom so he could sweep up underneath him, but glanced up when the door opened again. Charlie shook the water from himself as best as he could, but it was to little avail. He’d probably just need to wait until he was dry.

Closing the umbrella, Sam tossed it against the wall near the door and settled himself back on the stool where he’d been before, Charlie scooting up and onto the one next to him. As long as Barney was passed out, the hybrid took some time to pull off his mask and other effects which were fairly soaked through, placing them on the stool next to him and breathing out a little sigh. Moe had seen him a few times by now. It seemed like more and more people knew what he looked like as time went on. At that particular moment, he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“Tell me you’ve got something to eat,” Charlie asked as Moe drifted back over, looking over the rain-soaked man with some scrutiny. 

“I’ve got uh… Probably some Spam sitting around somewhere. Lemme look.”

“I’m having a hard time turning that down.” Charlie wasn’t going to be picky. And apparently, neither was Sam, as the man said nothing.

Moe disappeared in the back room for a time, clattering around among his shelves and god knew what else. Charlie watched as a roach slid out from the doorway and promptly disappeared into the nearest electrical socket. There was a little buzz, a hiss, and the roach did not re-emerge. The hybrid assumed that whatever it saw in the back room was heinous enough for the little bug to end it all.

“Well lookee here!” Moe proclaimed as he re-emerged, holding a half-empty jug of milk and a bottle of chocolate syrup that looked like it came from the 70’s. “It ain’t Spam, but it’s somethin’, huh? Check this out.”

“Chocolate milk?” Sam asked, staring at the bartender. 

“Nah. Even better.” Moe brought over the ingredients, pouring the milk into a few glasses and squirting the chocolate… syrup (it looked more like sauce at this point) into it soon after. He then held up each mug in turn, using a lighter to heat up the bottom of the glass before plopping a few stale marshmallow Peeps that were sad and dull from their time spent hidden somewhere in the cabinets beneath the bar. Presumably from Easter. ...This past Easter, hopefully.

Pleased with himself, Moe offered two of the glasses to Charlie and Sam who stared at the brown concoction that was making short work of dissolving those Peeps into rainbow mush that floated at the top of the layer of milk. “See? Hot cocoa! PERFECT for them rainy days like this one.” As if to sell the mixture, he took a long swig of his own, choking back the drink with a few hacked coughs and then offering his two patrons a grimacing smile. “Eh? EH?!”

Charlie squinted down at his own before coming to the conclusion that… he really didn’t even care what he put into his own body at this point. And the chocolate DID smell at least a little enticing. So with a little glance at Sam and a shrug, he upended his own into his mouth. It was not great. In fact, one might even say that it was terrible. The milk was absolutely close to spoiling, if not already spoiled, and the Peeps floated around in his mouth in chunky bits. But he downed the drink dutifully. It was warm, if nothing else. And it’d keep him from drifting off into a hypothermic coma. 

“...It’s great, Moe,” Charlie replied once he was able to say anything about it at all. A blatant lie, but the bartender was content with the review. The hybrid just hoped he wouldn’t put it on his ‘menu’ as a permanent addition. 

“Uh… yeah. Really… great.” Sam added, having had a bit of a harder time with his own, but he too didn’t find it very necessary to spoil Moe’s spirits. But the two shared a knowing glance, watching as Moe, triumphant that he’d created something worthwhile for once in his life, scurried off to write down his ‘recipe’. 

Charlie pushed his empty glass away, poking his tongue out a little in disgust. Egh. “We can never tell him.”

Sam did the same with his own, wishing that he’d just ordered another beer instead. “...Yeah, I’m on board with that.” 

“And so the pact is sealed,” Charlie joked, reaching up with a hand to offer his pinky claw to the other. “I would say we should seal it in blood, but I’m already suffering with this aftertaste.” 

Sam offered a little smirk before reaching up to hook his own pinky with Charle’s. “Takin’ it to the grave.” 

Their hands remained touching for a few seconds, a delayed reaction only bringing Charlie’s back to himself after a prolonged met gaze, his eyes flicking away in mild embarrassment. He was drunk. They were both drunk. Reaching up, Charlie absently ran a hand through his hair to try and make it a little more… presentable. He wasn’t sure why. 

Well. He wanted to pretend that he wasn’t sure why.

Moe’s return chased away the moment. He’d come back with more random ‘ingredients’ he’d found in the back storeroom.

Charlie and Sam gave a few little groans. Had Charlie known they’d be given the job as taste-testers, he might have just walked back to Lovejoy’s in the storm. 

But… he wasn’t alone here. Even if he’d never get the taste of stale Peeps off his tongue, he at least felt content with the knowledge that there was a warmth keeping him from drifting too far into the cold loneliness of the rain. 

Yeah. This was better.

#tj talk #tj writes #oc #simpsona #axe bosk #spooky-simp

[orowyrm]

i have been at work for over five hours and all i’ve done is hold an iguana for like five minutes and spend the rest of that time pulling expired dog food off the shelves. i’ve only worked one aisle and i have filled four carts to the goddamn brim with bags. i hate this store

[monstersandmaw]

Male triton Fae (Kaerio) x female character (Ellen) (sfw)

This was a commission for someone who appears to have infinite patience, so thank you very much for hanging on in there for so many months. I’m sorry, and I hope you enjoy this at last… It’s been up on my Patreon on early release, and now it’s time to put it up here.

It's the 'prequel' to the story with Adan, the Argonian-inspired marine iguana, and which you can find on Tumblr here. I don't think you really need to have read it to enjoy this one, but it might help a bit.

You can catch up on all my Fae Realm related posts and stories here on Patreon, but again, you don't need to in order to enjoy this. I hope.

Jaerhin - Prince of the Court of Fire aesthetic and info

Inikeira - Princess of the Court of Air aesthetic and info

'Poster boy' for the Fae Realm doodle

Fae Courts - 'wiki' style info post

Ystlynn - younger son of the Court of Spring, aesthetic and info

Cirdan - Prince of the Court of Winter, drawing and Fae Realm info

Fae seer/priest aesthetic, ideas, and fae world concepts

Content: serious injury to male character towards the beginning but it’s brief and not described in too much detail. Fluff, a dose of angst, and some more fluff. Sfw, with the odd touch/kiss. Word count: 9,385

___

The tranquillity of the waves lapping the shore always soothed her on a level she couldn’t quite articulate. Moving away from the city in her early twenties, leaving it all behind for a quieter life atop the cliffs where she could gather herbs and tend to the folks who needed it had been rewarding, for sure, but the sharp ache of loneliness did still lance through her every now and again.

Perhaps if someone came along one day who caught her eye, then she might go along with it, but for now Ellen was content enough with her books and her herbs and her remedies. The small flock of chatty chickens, all too fond of the sound of their own clucking voices, and the near-silent stray black cat who had more recently adopted her, were enough company for the time being.

Gathering samphire in the wake of the retreating tide one early summer morning, just as the sun was starting to peek above the glass-perfect horizon, a splash from a rock pool up ahead caught her attention and she stood up straight from her task to see a figure slumped on his front over a rock in the shallows.

Her eyes widened and her heart leapt into her mouth at the sight of him, and she thought for an awful moment that he was dead. His skin was glacially pale, like finest marble, and his hair was long and dark, spilling down over his shoulders and back, sticking to his skin like seaweed. He was completely naked, but as she stared openly at him, shocked into a stupor by his beauty and his unexpected presence, she noticed the harpoon sticking out of his back and she covered her mouth with one hand.

The basket of freshly-gathered seaweed completely forgotten, she raced over to him, the toes of her bare feet digging into the wet sand as she flew to him. He tilted his face up a little at her arrival, his gaze vague and his irises so black that she almost couldn’t make out his pupils. The harpoon was lodged in his back, mercifully well clear of his spine, but it was obvious that he’d been shot from behind. It had missed everything important but was still lodged in the muscle of his back. The water had washed a lot of the blood away, but from the looks of him, he didn’t have much left in him.

“Easy,” she said, trying not to panic. “I’m going to help you, alright? I’m a physician. Stay put, and I’ll be right back.” With that, she didn’t linger long enough to hear if he made any response, and turned and ran at full tilt back towards the cliffs and the winding, switchback path that would lead to her wooden hut.

Her lungs burned as she scrabbled up the last stretch, her muscles searing and cramping from the sudden exertion, but she pushed herself on, only daring to catch her breath when she reached her front door and burst inside. Grabbing the necessary supplies from various cupboards and shelves and stuffing them into another basket, Ellen took a few steadying breaths before hurtling back down to the beach.

“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” she chanted over and over as she ran back to him.

He hadn’t moved and for a horrible moment she thought that he had slipped away, but when he gave a shuddering gasp, his fingertips just twitching slightly, relief washed through her.

It took a long time to tend to him, and in less than ideal conditions. The water and alcohol she used to clean the wound would have to be sufficient, and mercifully he passed out when she had only just begun to remove the harpoon’s barbed tip. It was a cruel weapon, made for latching into the flesh of dolphins and sharks which would then be hauled out of the water, and shipped off to where the nobility of the inland cities would consume them on laden tables, attended by servants and entertained by captive fae on iron chains. The sight of the weapon disgusted her but she hadn’t time to focus on that. He needed stitching up, and she was damned if she was going to let him die on her now.

It should have occurred to her that any ordinary human being would never have survived such injuries, but Ellen was so focused on the immediate task of saving his life that the thought never crossed her racing mind.

When she could do no more for him, she leaned back, exhausted, and glanced to her right and saw that the tide was creeping back in towards the wide, sandy cove.

“How the hell am I going to get you up the cliff?” she mused aloud, stroking his long hair back from his beautiful face; the long strands were encrusted here and there with salt and she picked them loose while she mulled it over. He looked tired and strained, with dark circles under his eyes, and he looked more than a bit undernourished, but he was undeniably beautiful. Ellen removed her thick woollen cloak and laid it over his slender shoulders, spreading it down his back to try and keep him warm and give him a bit of dignity for the time being.

As if summoned back to consciousness by her touch, his eyelids fluttered, long lashes dancing like butterfly wings on his pale, bruised-looking skin. He looked up at her from where he was still slumped over the smooth rock beneath him and tried to move.

“Shh, steady,” she smiled, easing back a little so that he didn’t have to strain himself to look up at her. “That was quite the injury… Don’t move too much just yet.”

“Where am I?” he croaked, his rough voice like a handful of grit in his mouth. “You’re… You’re…” but whatever he was going to say, he cut himself off and looked around apprehensively, his eyes wide with obvious horror.  

“Easy,” she said, trying to reassure the strange man. “I’ll need you to move in a minute because the tide is coming in. Do you think you can stand?”

He took an experimental draw of his lungs, winced, but then nodded.

“I’ll help you.”

It took… a long time.

Even with his light frame, he was unsteady on his legs to the point that a newborn deer might have fared better than he did. She clasped her cloak around his throat with a beautiful silver brooch - the only treasure she’d really kept from her life in the city before moving here - and slid her arm around his torso. Together they staggered and slipped up the path to the hut, and it was testament to her skills as a physician, trained in the city with the finest doctors and surgeons, that he didn’t rip his stitches open again. The wound was bleeding through the bandages, but when she inspected it briefly after taking the cloak off him, she found that it was just weeping after the exertion.

Ellen then laid the stranger down in her bed and he slid into sleep in a single, harsh exhale.

Exhaustion washed through her like a riptide and she staggered slightly, suddenly dizzy and weak after the frantic rush of racing to save his life and hauling him up the cliff path to her home. She parked herself in the chair beside the cold fireplace and took a moment to steady herself. The day was heating up now, and she had chores to attend to. Taking a deep breath, she rallied her strength and said, “Well, those chickens won’t take care of themselves…”

The stranger slept for the rest of the day, though she continued to check up on him in between her jobs. After retrieving her basket of samphire from the grasping foam of the incoming tide, she fed and greeted her slightly disgruntled chickens and collected their eggs. That done, she set about drawing some water from the well she’d had sunk when she’d first moved in by two very friendly minotaurs who lived only a mile or so away.

By the time Ellen had caught up on the day’s chores, the sun was sinking low behind the wind-blasted trees atop the cliffs, and she had just begun to grill some fish for their evening meal when she heard a grunt behind her in the one-roomed hut. She’d thought about asking the minotaurs to help her extend the small building, but it hardly seemed necessary. Maybe one day, but for now, this was enough.  

“How are you feeling?” she asked, lifting the fish away from the heat, and the man blinked, staring around at the hut with wide, fearful eyes. “It’s alright,” she smiled. “My name is Ellen. You’re safe here.”

He gasped softly as she spoke her name, but other than that, he barely reacted. He still looked too surprised to find himself in someone else’s house. She supposed that was natural.

“Listen, do you want something to eat? You should try and start to recover your strength…”

He looked warily at the grilled fish and the small, charcoal cooking fire in the corner of the room, but unmistakable interest flared in his dark eyes and he licked his lips almost unconsciously.

She returned her attention to the meal, not wanting to overwhelm him. When she turned back to him, she found that he was sitting up and was making no attempt to cover himself whatsoever. He just sat there, gazing around at her home as if he’d never seen anything like it before.

“It’s not much,” she said, blushing. “And I wasn’t exactly expecting guests when I found you this morning.”

“It’s nice,” he murmured. “You saved my life,” he added, lightly touching the bandages around his ribcage that held the dressing in place on his back. His fingers were delicate and they trembled slightly as he moved them along the fabric. “You asked no price,” he whispered.

“You’re a tough one, for sure. Just having someone get better is reward enough for me,” Ellen said with a cheery note to her voice. The truth rang through her words, and it seemed to shock the young man.

“You know your craft,” he said. “You have no magic.” The way he spoke in short, softly-articulated sentences seemed odd, but she shrugged.

“Very few of us physicians actually have magic these days,” she said. “I know what I know, and I do what I can.”

He stared at her intently, and it was almost unnerving. “You’re very kind.”

Ellen had to bite her lips together as the blush crept up further her cheeks. “As I said, I do what I can. Now, are you hungry?”

He shook his head, but in the end she managed to convince him to cover up, and to eat something by saying he’d undo all her good work if he starved to death.

Shortly after finishing, he lay back on the bed and was asleep in minutes. She hadn’t even managed to ask him his name.

Deciding not to risk waking him by clattering around any more, she stepped outside into the balmy evening and closed up the chicken coop for the night. The cat slunk out of the shadows of the herb garden and trotted boldly over to her, his one white sock flashing in the dim remnants of the daylight. He butted his head against her calf and meowed a soft greeting, so of course, she stooped to give him a cuddle.

Ellen had no intention of sharing her tiny cot with the naked stranger, so she drew some spare blankets out of a cupboard and laid them down on the floor beside the empty fireplace. It was warm enough that she didn’t need much covering, so she used most of them as padding to lie on, dragged a cushion from a nearby chair, and drew a simple sheet up over her body to keep the chill of the middle of the night from her skin. Sleep was a long time coming, and for at least an hour, she lay staring up at the figure of the sleeping stranger in her bed. It felt so odd to have someone else in the cabin with her, but despite his quirky behaviour, she didn’t feel threatened by him.

As dawn crept through the small windows of her modest hut, Ellen woke with a soft sigh. Sleeping on the floor was hardly comfortable, but she’d got a good enough night’s sleep, and she stretched before turning her gaze up to her bed where the young man lay.

Except that in his place was not the young man she had remembered from the night before.

Lying under the blankets, though with its torso half exposed, was something from a fairytale or perhaps even a nightmare. The creature that lay there had blueish-green skin and delicately webbed hands, each finger ending in a talon the colour of lapis lazuli. Its face was still vaguely humanoid, but its eyes were almond shaped and huge, resting closed in sleep, and its nose was flat with slit nostrils, and thin, dark blue lips were drawn shut in a tight line. It had no hair, and its ears were marked by a three-pointed fin. Atop its head was another fin, like a crest, and each one glimmered softly like the scales of a fish, first seeming green, then blue, then silver as she stared in horror at it.

Larger scales glimmered down its turquoise neck and the skin on its chest was a dusky blue highlighted with paler green. It would have been beautiful to behold had she not been so terrified. “Fae,” she hissed, staggering to her feet and reeling backwards.

The creature’s eyes opened in a flash and when it registered the revulsion and fear on her face, it raised its hand and inspected what it found, flexing its fingers and spreading the webbing that stretched between them. Turning its eyes back on Ellen, it opened its mouth and she saw a row of savage, pointed teeth.

“Oh gods protect me,” she hissed, snatching up the iron fire poker from its hook beside the grate and brandishing it like a rapier between them. Not that she had the faintest idea how to use a rapier.

The creature’s fin-like ears drew back and it hissed like a cat at the sight of the iron. “Please,” it rasped, and she recognised the voice of the man from the day before in the guttural speech she heard now. “You saved me. I will not harm you. I just… I couldn’t hold this form…”

“You’re a… a fae, aren’t you?” she snarled. “Gods, I can’t believe I let you in here. I can’t believe I…” the colour drained from her cheeks as she realised that she’d told her true name to this creature. “Oh gods.”

“Please,” he said, shuffling and wincing as he tried to sit up. “I swear by the magic in my blood, by my connection to the Fae Realm, by the water that is my home, that I will not harm you.” His voice was strange, as though his tongue had difficulties with human speech around the razor sharp row of teeth in his mouth. “I will leave, but… I… I’m not sure I have the strength to shift again so soon.”

Ellen scowled, confused.

With a sigh, the fae lifted the blankets and revealed that his lower half was a powerful, muscular tail; all glimmering scales and soft, delicate looking fin, though she noticed on closer inspection that each fin was tipped with a barb that reminded her of lion fish. Beautiful but deadly like all Fae…

“Please, let me rest a little while longer,” he said, his voice cracking with obvious fatigue. “Then I will return to the sea, and I will attempt to find the fissure between the veil. I will never trouble you again.”

“I told you my name,” she hissed.

“A gift I will treasure,” he said, “And a trust I will never betray.”

“The only way it’d be fair is if you told me yours in return,” she snarled, still clutching the iron fire poker. “And what the hell are you doing here in the Mortal Realm in the first place?”

His shoulders slackened a little and he tipped his head back against her pillow. “That’s a rather longer story than I have the strength for at the moment. I will tell you though, if you’d truly like to know.”

Ellen just stood there, her breathing fast and shallow, her heart hammering in her ears. A Fae, here, in her cottage. In her bed.

The closest she’d come to one was in the bustling city market where there had been one in an iron cage, but that one had been the size of a skinny child and had had wings like a dragonfly and skin like hoarfrost on glass. There was an eerie kind of beauty to the Fae lying in her bed, with his inhuman eyes, vaguely reminiscent of the deep sea fish that sometimes got tangled up in the fishermen’s nets, and the iridescent blues and greens of his scales were almost mesmerising. She had to shake herself. Everyone knew the stories: Fae would trick you into giving up your soul and leave you nothing but a husk; Fae would steal your name and compel you to come back to their home realm where they would do unspeakable things to you…

And here she was with one in her bed who knew her true name. “Fool,” she whispered to herself.

“If I tell you my name,” he said, surprising her, “Will you trust me?”

“Not a chance,” she said. “But it’d be a start.”

“Kaerio,” he murmured. “My True Name is Kaerio. As a Fae, I cannot lie; you know it to be truth.”

And she did. She felt the truth of it hit her in the chest like a physical blow. “Kaerio,” she murmured, turning the sound of it over on her tongue. He shuddered violently under the covers and she looked at him. “What…?”

He chuffed a laugh, raw and devoid of humour. “I never thought I’d ever hear a human call my name…” he said. “We have stories about you too, to frighten our children…”

“Yeah, well, I never imagined I’d have a damned fae in my bed,” she snapped. “I should have known you weren’t human! No one would survive an injury like that if they weren’t… you know… How did you come to have a hunting harpoon in your back anyway?”

Kaerio sighed deeply and rolled carefully onto his side. His fluke flopped off the end of the bed, spreading its full width and somehow looking like hot-folded iridescent glass. It was stunning and fascinating, and she found herself staring openly at it.

When she looked up at him, his glassy eyes were fixed on her face. He had no white sclera - his large, almond-shaped eyes were like polished jet, and just as hard and cold as he gazed unblinkingly at her. She flushed unexpectedly under his scrutiny and he offered a soft, closed-lipped smile before speaking. “There was an attack on the Court of Water,” he said slowly, his gruff voice deep and sonorous as the high tide against the cliffs.

“The Court of Water?” she asked.

He hummed softly as he nodded. “There are twelve Courts in the Fae Realm, each ruled over by a prince or princess of the lesser Fae…” he tilted his head curiously at her. “You know nothing of this?”

“Why would I? We’re not exactly taught the political structure of the Fae Realm at school. We’re taught to be afraid of your kind from birth.”

His grin was lopsided and showed too many teeth. “Likewise,” he snorted. “Well, there’s always been animosity between certain Courts. I serve in the guard of the princess of the Court of Water, and I am also a messenger of sorts. I carry messages from the House of the Sea to court, and do my prince and princess’ bidding whenever a message needs to be taken elsewhere in the Realm. Providing it is reached by waterways, of course,” he added with a shrug.

“I… I don’t fully understand,” Ellen said, and instead she asked, “But… how did you end up here?”

Kaerio sighed. “I was bringing a message from our princess to the Prince of the Winter Court. He has some sway with the Court of Fire, and it was believed that the attack came from them. She hoped that Prince Círdan would be able to convince Prince Jaehrin to call off the attack… I have to go back,” he said, his head drooping despondently. “I never made it to the Court of Winter and… I don’t know what things are like there. The castle could still be under attack… My people…” His voice broke and he bit back a choked sob.

“I’m not going to pretend to understand the politics of what’s going on here, but none of that tells me how you ended up in the Mortal Realm…”

He swallowed his hurt for a moment and looked directly at her. “There were fire-charges and spells raining down from the ships as they bombarded our defences. I dove deep to avoid them and must have found one of the tears in the veil between our realms. They exist all over the place, but most of them are guarded by waystones or some kind of sentry. This was just… there. I’d swum through it before I knew what had happened, and I needed to surface. When I did, there was a fishing boat nearby, and the next thing I know there are spears and bolts hissing down around me.” He shifted his ribs a little and said, “I took one in the back and I must have shifted in panic. I’m not really sure. I rarely use this form.”

“Why not?”

“There’s very little need for legs in my line of work,” he said wryly.

“What will you do now then?” she asked, realising with a jolt that she had lowered her arm and her grip on the fire poker had relaxed to the point that she was almost about to drop it. Taking a deep breath and deciding that while he had his tail he couldn’t exactly leap at her and disembowel her with his claws from where he lay, she set it back down and sank into a chair at a safe distance from him.

“I need to heal,” he said. “It shouldn’t take long, but in the Mortal Realm I’m cut off from the Fae magic, so I don’t know… I… If I were strong enough to swim down to the gateway I could go home.”

“You want me to check the wound then?” she asked.

Kaerio was surprisingly sheepish as he nodded.

“Keep those claws to yourself,” Ellen growled as she pushed herself upright and crossed to him. On the way, she grabbed a pair of scissors from a side table and he went rigid at the sight of them.

He fell completely still as she laid her hands on him, but a second later a shiver ran the length of his body and he gasped.

Pausing, Ellen asked, “Did I hurt you?”

With a shake of his head, he fell still again, jaw set grimly, watching her while she brought the scissors to the bandages. It was only as she realised that these ones were iron and not steel, that she faltered. If she didn’t touch his skin with them, he’d be alright, so she continued, being doubly careful this time, and when he was unwrapped, she set them back on the table, out of sight.

The relief that washed through him was tangible. “Sorry about that,” she said and he gasped as she laid her fingertips on his ribcage, inspecting the wound.

“Your hands are cold,” he half-giggled and half-gasped.

“Sorry.”

“Cold hands, warm heart,” he grinned. “At least, that’s what they say at home. Not sure if you have that saying here. Do you? Have it here, I mean?”

Ellen frowned and snorted at the same time. “Are you nervous, Kaerio?” she purred playfully, overcome with a sudden rush of confidence. Perhaps it was his unexpected burst of nerves that egged her on.

“No,” he blurted, turning his face away, his fin-like ears tucking flat against his head.

“Well,” she said, poking carefully at the edges of the puncture wound with her fingertips. “You’ve healed miraculously overnight. It seems that your abilities have come with you from the Fae Realm. I wouldn’t recommend fighting a war just yet, but you should be able to swim at least.”

His muscles went slack with relief and he reached tentatively for her hand. When she didn’t immediately recoil, he took her fingers gently in his and ran the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. “Thank you,” he said. “What can I offer you as repayment?”

“You healed,” she said, still not withdrawing her hand from his cool, polite grip. “I told you, that’s all I want from any patient. Especially from a Fae. I don’t want anything else from you.”

He nodded. “That… That is not… That would not normally be… enough…”

She rolled her eyes and stepped back. “I can’t vouch for how well it’d hold up to you changing your form though. And I can’t carry you down to the beach.”

“One more day,” he said, sounding oddly reluctant. “May I trespass on your hospitality and patience for one more day?”

In fact, he ended up staying for two more days. As much as her wariness was still very present, her curiosity about his world surged to the forefront and she found herself sitting in a chair beside the bed while he told her as much as he was able to about the Fae Realm where he lived.

“There are twelve Courts, as I said,” he explained as he rested his weight on one arm, still lying on his side amongst her sheets and blankets. Every now and again his tail would twitch animatedly, his fluke lifting slightly in the manner of someone drumming their fingers on a tabletop while talking. “There are the four Elemental Courts of Fire, Water, Earth, and Air, and each of them have their own noble houses - such as the one I serve, the House of the Sea. There are the Seasonal Courts of Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, and then there are the Solar Courts of Dawn, Day, Twilight and Night.”

Ellen nodded but remained quiet.

“The territory and influence of each court varies hugely. We are all ruled over by the Seelie and the Unseelie Fae, but they trouble us very little. So long as what we do poses no threat to the fabric of the Fae Realm itself, then they let our Courts squabble as we please. Someone is always pushing for more power, more control… it’s…” he waved a taloned hand, the tiny scales on his fingers sparkling in the summer light that poured in through the open doorway and window in an attempt to cool the room a little, “… tedious…” he finished.

There seemed to be something more than what he told her, but she didn’t push it. “And… forgive me, but I’ve only ever seen perhaps one fae other than you… What… What do your kind look like?”

“As varied as there are fish in the sea,” he laughed. “The lesser royalty - the princes and princesses of our Courts - tend to look mostly human… ish… Some have wings like butterflies or moths, while others have bone structure that’s definitely not quite the same as humans, but for the most part, the royal ones are not like me at any rate. Us lower Fae, the kelpies and shrikes, tritons and wraiths, have more monstrous forms. Of course, it’s said that our dear royalty also have ‘other’ forms which they choose not to take very often…”

“Other forms?”

“Monstrous forms, but they pride themselves on their exquisite beauty… No one wants to serve a creature who is anything less than the epitome of perfection after all…”

Ellen scowled at that, but who was she to judge the beauty standards of another culture, let alone an entirely different realm?

She asked Kaerio questions until his voice was hoarse and she eventually realised how long she’d been making him talk. Embarrassed and chagrined, she offered him water and food, both of which he took more readily this time.

As she sat on the edge of the bed to offer him the plate of hot, steamed fish, he gazed up at her, his features considerably softer now.

“What?” she asked, irritated by how unusually flustered she was.

“I’ve never met a human before,” he said. “You’re very beautiful.”

Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it hadn’t been that. “Oh.”

“Have I offended?” he asked, a playful note in his voice.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You know you haven't. But I am wary of the kinds of stories we’re told about you…”

“Oh?” he asked, pushing himself upright and leaning against the wooden headboard behind him before taking the bowl of food from her. His claws scraped slightly on her fingers as she passed it to him and she fought off a little shiver.

“Yeah,” Ellen muttered, standing up and smoothing out her skirt unnecessarily. “It’s said you’ll charm us into falling in love with you.”

He snorted. “Why would we do that?”

The question took her by surprise. “I have no idea. But whenever someone goes missing, especially in rural communities, it’s always assumed that the Fae took them… More likely the cold or a wild cat or something if you ask me,” she added. “But then again, here you are.”

“And am I making you fall in love with me?” he asked dryly. “Is my unusual body so enticing?” There was a nasty bitterness in his voice that made her brows knit together in a frown.

Instead of scoffing at him the way he obviously assumed she would, she said quietly, “I think you’re very beautiful too.”

Kaerio nearly choked on a mouthful of his lunch.

Satisfied, and a little bit embarrassed, Ellen beat a hasty retreat with the excuse that she should have let the chickens out by now.

When she returned, Kaerio was asleep again, the empty plate resting in his slack hands, and she took the chance to look at him properly. Yes, he was beautiful.

By the time he had recovered enough to shift again, she watched him do it with the fascination of a scientist. His tail split and with a horrible cracking of bone, he twitched and jerked, the scales melting into his pale skin until the figure of the man she had first found lay before her, sweaty and breathing hard and clutching his ribs with one hand. His wound - which was beyond the reach of his fingers - was clearly still painful, even if it had almost completely healed. Winded, Kaerio looked up at her bashfully and wheezed, “Isn't this a more attractive form for you?”

She shrugged. “I’m not going to lie, you’re very pretty like this, but I think I almost prefer to see you as you are. Besides, you’ve got more colour when you’re a triton. You look like a corpse with all that pale skin…” she grinned.

He laughed weakly and sat up.

“Also you have absolutely no modesty when you’re a human,” she added quickly, chucking her cloak at him to cover up his privates.

He grinned but dutifully covered himself and said, “You’re a doctor. There’s no shame in a naked body…”

“No,” she said, “But you’re no longer in need of my help. It’s indecent.”

He stood carefully, swaying a little as he struggled to find his balance. “Perhaps I do need your help still,” he said quietly.

Ellen rolled her eyes at him but didn’t refuse him her arm as she led him down the path towards the beach.

“I suppose this is goodbye,” she said as she stood there at the tide line. Each stroke of the sea against the beach felt like claws reaching to drag him away and she couldn’t explain the lump she felt in her throat.

Kaerio read her expression clearly and stepped close. He brought his hand to her jaw and cupped her cheek, thumbing gently at her cheekbones as her eyes sparkled with unexpected tears. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be pleased to see me gone…”

Ellen found herself shaking her head, her hair falling loose around her shoulders, tugged free by the stiff sea breeze. “I’ve… I’ve been alone here since I left the city…” she said. “I can’t believe I found…” Found what? Friendship? Companionship? “Found… whatever this has been… with one of the Fae…”

That seemed to surprise him. “I never asked you about your life,” he said, shame ringing through his words like a temple bell. “All I’ve done is talk about myself for two days…”

She smiled weakly. “I asked you, remember? I made you talk yourself hoarse with stories of your homeland…”

“I could try and come back,” he suggested and her heart leapt unbidden to her throat.

“It’s too dangerous, surely?” she said without conviction.

Kaerio’s dark eyes - seemingly human but with a strange depth to them that spoke of the fathomless depths of the sea - bore into her. “I think…” he said carefully, as if hardly daring to believe what he was saying, “I think it is you who has bewitched a Fae, human, and not the other way around. For you, I would risk returning. If you wish it of me.”

“Yes,” she breathed, trembling all over, and not from the wind.

“Then as soon as I have done my duty and delivered the message to Prince Círdan, I will return to you. I swear it. As my True Name is Kaerio, I swear to you that I will return to you.”

Something snapped in the air between the two of them and she gasped. The word of a Fae once given was a powerful thing. She nodded. “Be safe.”

He traced another arc across her cheek once more and unclasped her cloak. As he laid it across her outstretched arm, he bowed his head and kissed her hand.

Watching him walk into the waves wrenched strangely at her heart and she drew the cloak to her nose, inhaling the scent of him as he abandoned his human form, becoming little more than a ripple of green and blue amongst the shifting hues of the water. A second later his head cleared the surface again and he waved once at her before disappearing in a flash of sparkling light and a slap of his fluke.

Just when she’d begun to think he wouldn’t return, as she quilted a new blanket together by the light of the fire and in the middle of the worst summer storm she’d yet weathered in her little hut, barely protected by the twisted broom trees that clung to the edges of the cliff, someone pounded on her door.

Ellen leapt from the fireplace in alarm and flung open the door to a face full of rain and wind. Standing there, shivering and completely naked, was Kaerio.

She gasped his name and ushered him inside. “What the hell are you doing here in all this weather?” she chided him, steering him towards the fire and scrambling to fetch a towel to dry him off.

His teeth were chattering so badly he couldn’t respond immediately and she pressed a mug of hot tea into his frozen fingers a moment later. While he was simultaneously thawing out and drying off, she fished out a pair of old work trousers that she thought might fit him, even if they would be a little on the short side, and a linen shirt and round-necked, woollen pullover. Once he’d stuffed himself into them, and a pair of socks with which he seemed completely fascinated, he grinned up at her.

“Better?”

“Infinitely. How are you?”

“Apart from being startled out of my wits by the sudden re-appearance of a certain Fae in the middle of a ferocious storm? Fine,” she laughed, and was answered with a white-toothed smile.

“I’m glad,” he said, turning his attention to the steaming tea in his hands. “I thought of you often.”

“You’ve been gone two weeks,” she said. “I thought you weren’t coming back. What on earth possessed you to return tonight of all nights?”

“It’s the first chance I’ve had,” he shrugged. “And the weather wasn’t so bad on our side of the veil…” He looked up at her with his unnaturally dark eyes alight with concern. “Are the storms always this bad here?”

She shrugged and threw another log on the fire before drawing up a chair beside him. The firelight gilded his pale cheeks beautifully, and while he was hauntingly attractive in this form, she found she missed his even stranger triton form. “Some are. This isn’t unusual for this time of year. How did your wound heal, by the way?”

“Beautifully,” he said, rolling his shoulder and stretching out his previously-injured side as if to demonstrate. “It aches a bit sometimes, but it makes me think of you and your touch, so I don’t mind.” His paper-white cheeks flushed dark at that, and she laughed.

“I missed you too,” Ellen admitted.

They shared a bed that night, though he kept his touches chaste, limiting himself merely to holding her as the rain lashed the cabin.

When they woke in the morning, he had managed to remain in his human form and they walked along the beach together, picking up strange bits of debris that the storm had flung onto the sand. He found her a shell that she’d never seen before and told her that it was from the Fae Realm.

“When we get home I’ll drill a hole in it and hang it up,” she smiled, taking the clam-like lid of the shell from him and turning it in the light to make it glimmer like a pearl.

“They’re said to bring luck and love,” he commented.

She shot him a look and said, “Well, you came first but perhaps it’s a confirmation from the universe…”

Again, his cheeks flushed and he looked away.

“Am I wrong?”

His hands strayed to her hips and he made her halt, gazing at her with those deep eyes. “I shouldn’t do this,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Court you, fall for you… It’s… It’s madness. But… I cannot deny my feelings for you. You are a magnificent woman, Ellen. You’re smart and talented and I cherish the memories of our conversations, few as they may have been in number so far.”

Her heartbeat hammered against her ear drums and she licked her lips nervously. “So far?” she asked, staring up at him through her lashes.

Kaerio nodded. “I… I hope to return… The conflict at home has passed, much as the storm from last night has eased. The Court of Fire has agreed not to launch any more attacks on us, and in return we have agreed to allow them passage across the widest river in our kingdom. There’s a small finger of our land that extends along their territory, and they wish access to the river… Our princess agreed to let them use our ferries, but not to build the bridge they requested.”

“Is that going to be enough for them?” she asked apprehensively, very aware of his palms on her hips still.

“It’s… For now, it’s enough.” He tilted her chin up with a delicate touch of his curled fingers. “And if you will allow me, I would like to return to you more frequently.”

With a smile, she accepted.

By the end of the summer, as the autumn sea mists rolled in and choked the land in drenching fog that chilled her to the bone for days at a time, she had spent many an afternoon on the sands with him, both in his triton form and his human, though mostly in his triton to save him the effort and pain of shifting.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” he’d asked on one particular occasion as she lay in his arms while he trailed his claws through her hair.

She replied by pressing her hand flat against his stomach and stroking the smooth scales there with fascination and affection. “You’re beautiful. Why would I mind?”

He’d smiled and kissed her head, and had remained as he was.

The winter weather made their visits harder. Shivering and soaked, he would stagger up the path to the hilltop and she would welcome him inside, but it was impractical to say the least.

“Kaerio, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” she said as snow fell thick outside and chunks of ice floated like scum in the wide bay beyond. This time he’d arrived with a bleeding scalp from a chunk of debris in the stormy water and had needed patching up. “It’s… It’s taking a toll on you…”

The triton had embraced her, his human arms encircling her and holding her tight to him. “I can’t… not come and see you. I need you…” he said. “I… I’m bound to you, Ellen. I’m yours.”

Her heart clenched and she clutched at him. “Unless you take me to the Fae Realm forever, I -”

He cut her off by jerking backwards, eyes wide. “Ellen,” he breathed.

“What?”

“Do you make such a suggestion in earnest?” his gaze darted frantically between her eyes, searching her face for any artifice or deceit. When he found neither, he whispered, “You… You would really do that? Offer… that?”

“I can’t see another way to be with you,” she said. “I have no real ties here. There are other healers in the area, and… well… you said that humans are treated exceptionally well in the Court of Water. I could be free if I came to live with you…”

“You would give up all this? For me?” he whimpered, his eyes glazing with tears.

“Yes.”

Kaerio was clearly stunned, and made her promise to think it over. “I would have to make arrangements anyway,” he said. “I have a small cabin on the edge of the sea, though I don’t use it very often. It could be made habitable - comfortable - for you.” Excitement blazed in his eyes, and over the next three visits, all he could talk about was the advances he had made in preparing it for her.

Ellen, meanwhile, sold her chickens to a young man a few farms across who promised to look after them and asked no questions about why she wanted to sell them. She prepared her few meagre belongings and packed a large sack full of the clothes and items she wished to bring along. Kaerio had promised that she would be provided for there, so she packed only the things that meant the most to her.

Her triton went through the plan for getting her through the veil, how the magic would feel as it encased her and protected her from the water and the pressure, and how she would need to take it easy as she adapted to the Fae Realm. Just as Fae who slipped through the places where the barriers were frail found themselves unable to use their magic, weaker and more vulnerable to iron and rowan wood, so humans often felt dizzy and almost feverish in their first few days in the Fae Realm as ambient magic coursed through them and the strange, rich foods settled into their bodies.

Dancing with excitement on the shore, bag in hand, she waited for Kaerio on the day he had promised.

She waited while the sun climbed higher and the seagulls wheeled around her. The weather was freezing but bright; the winter day clear and still. The waves lapped gently at the sand, and all was perfect for a journey across the barrier.

She waited, fear fizzing away inside her, as the sun passed its zenith and began to sink down.

Tears came and went as she paced the shore, terrified that something had happened to him.

Eventually, near the deepening chill of sunset, a movement in the water caught her eye and she darted forwards, her thick leather boots splashing in the shallows. “Kae?”

The triton powered through the water and she crouched beside him as he hauled himself out of the reach of the waves, sending water splashing.

Ellen searched his body for sign of injury, but he seemed alright. “What happened? Where were you? I’ve been so worried.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and at the sound of his voice she froze. His tone was cold. “You can’t come with me.”

She staggered, mind and body reeling. “What? But… we’ve been preparing for weeks…  What’s changed?”

He shook his head and twitched his gaze back to the sea as if something might come boiling out of the waves after him like a kraken from the deep. “You can’t come with me, and…” he choked suddenly but forced himself to go on. “And I cannot come to see you again. You’ll be in danger if I do.”

Ellen’s whole world slid sideways and she crumpled softly onto her knees beside him, heedless of the water and the cold. “What?” she whispered. “No… No, Kae, I love you… We were going to… This… This can’t be happening.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his words hollow. “You can’t come with me, and I don’t have long. I have to go.”

“No,” she cried, grasping for him. His skin was slippery from the water, like a landed fish straight from the ocean, and he rolled away from her, shuffling back into the water. “No! Kae, please! Tell me why! Please, just tell me… Tell me what I did wrong… You owe me that much.”

His fins were pinned back tightly against his body - a sure sign of his own distress - and he shook his head. “It isn’t you, Ellen,” he said. “I can’t explain it and I cannot lie, and I’m so sorry. It’s not worth the risk. I’m not worth the risk for you. I have to go. Do not try to follow,” he added when he caught the light in her eyes. “It’s too deep and you’ll die without my magic. Promise me…”

“I promise,” she repeated numbly. A larger wave washed up the beach and caressed her legs with its icy touch. She barely felt it.

“Ellen…” he crooned, pausing a little way off.

She didn’t hear him. Tears rolled down her cheeks, mingling with the salt water that swirled around her.

Kaerio crawled back up to her and laid his hand on her thigh. She stared at the paper-thin webbing that stretched between his fingers and hissed, “The stories were right after all. You were going to break my heart all along, weren’t you?”

His talons pricked her skin through her soaked trousers as his fingers clenched suddenly. “I’m sorry,” he said again but she gritted her teeth.

“Go,” she sobbed. “Go if it’s so important to you. Thank you for at least coming to tell me.”

The triton backed away into the water but lingered a little longer as she stumbled to her feet and dragged the canvas sack back up the beach. It felt like the weight of the whole world as she hauled it back up the cliff path. At the top of the winding route she paused and looked back just in time to see his fluke flash in the last of the daylight before she turned away. “Should have known better than to trust a Fae,” she spat in a bitter whisper.

The hut was dark and empty, like a shell stripped of life, an empty hive with no bees.

She would rebuild. She would survive the winter and she would put her promises of love to the Fae behind her. Sour thoughts swirled in her head that he’d never intended to take her with him after all, that he’d only wanted his summer fun with her and now that it was winter, he had moved on. She told herself this over and over until she believed it.

Seasons passed and though she looked out at the sea when she gathered the samphire and sea cabbage from the rocks and the shore, she never hoped to see him again and he never came back. A pod of migrating orca spouted spray into the air one calm evening and she half dared to hope that the movement was Kaerio, checking in on her, but they passed on their way north and left the cove still and silent, with only the gentle hush of the sea itself.

Months became years, and while she wrote to her family in the city, she never went back. Her niece came to visit one spring, which brought a much needed rush of life to the old place. Ellen had taken the minotaurs’ advice and extended the hut a little bit over the years, and she turned the spare room into a bedroom in anticipation of the girl’s arrival.

Yes, her joints ached a little more and she had to squint to read things clearly, but she felt invigorated by her lively niece’s presence. It was all going so well until that filthy reptilian Fae had shown up in almost the same state as her Kaerio had done on so many nights, cold and sluggish from the water and in need of some tenderness.

Everything inside her had screamed to chase the Fae away, to stake him with iron and throw him back into the sea where he could never hurt another again, but the laughter in her niece’s eyes at his jokes, the way Adan pitched in to help without expecting anything in return - unusual to say the least for a Fae - made her hesitate.

Between the two of them they even convinced her over time that perhaps things had ended wrongly with Kaerio, that the growing shadow in their land could have made him afraid for her, that perhaps he had done the only thing he could think of to make her stay away. She would never fully forgive him for not just telling her the truth, but she let her hardened heart soften a little at the cocky young Fae’s assurances that he would at least look for Kaerio when he went home.

“Aunt Ellen?” her niece asked as they stood in the doorway after waving Adan off that final time. “Are you alright?”

The reptilian Fae had strode off with the confidence and swagger of a young knight on a quest, and she had to smile. Ellen closed the door and sighed. “No,” she said. “It’s been forty or so  years since I last saw Kaerio…”

Her beautiful niece smiled, hearing her unvoiced fears, and stepped close. “He’ll still love you,” she said. “And if he doesn’t, he doesn’t deserve your love in return.”

The fact that the girl had seen that Ellen had never stopped loving him moved her deeply. Perhaps she hadn’t even realised it herself until then. She smiled a watery smile and pulled the girl close and kissed her forehead. “You promise me you’ll be careful who you give your heart to, my darling?” she said, throat tight with emotion. “Even this Adan…”

She nodded and Ellen kissed her again before bustling about the hut, clearing up in the wake of their guest’s departure.

When her boots hit the sand that evening and she saw Adan standing there in the water with the figure of a human on his arm, her breath caught in her chest. His hair had turned silver-grey but it was still long - longer than ever now - and his eyes were still the same; still dark and still kind.

Ellen’s heart shattered.

Kaerio looked breathtakingly handsome. He had put on a bit of muscle and weight since she’d last seen him too, no longer the scrawny, half-starved young man he had been. His skin was also darker, as if he’d spent more time in the sun. There were scars on his cheek and neck, and as Adan fastened a cloak - which had been kept dry by magic, she supposed - about his shoulders her feet faltered and she just stood there, mute, afraid to go forward and afraid to go back. Kaerio brought a hand to cover his mouth and tears began to track down his cheeks at the sight of her.

With a gentle push at her back from the hand of her niece, she approached him.

Adan and her niece shared a look, but it was Kaerio who eventually broke the silence by chuckling, “I’m a bit shaky on my legs. It’s been decades since I’ve used them. Forgive me… Ellen…”

At the sound of her name, the spell broke and she fell forwards into his arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he caught her up in his embrace and kissed her.

“I’m so sorry,” he chanted against her lips, her cheeks, her neck. “I’m so sorry. I was so afraid for you and…”

“Shh,” she said, drawing back and stroking his own tears away with her thumbs. “Adan told me everything.” She knew about the shadow that had been growing in the Fae Realm, stealing souls and twisting them into vicious creatures that spread the darkness like a diseases. Humans, it seemed, were particularly vulnerable. “I know why you did it. Not that that makes it any easier, but… I understand now.”

“That little lizard,” Kaerio chuckled, shooting a look at the retreating backs of the other couple as they gave them some privacy for their reunion. “I nearly tore him to pieces when he came to my cabin babbling about some human woman…”

She managed a little laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t kill him,” she said. “My niece is rather fond of him for some reason…”

Suddenly breathless, Kaerio gasped, “I want to stay here. I… I’ve left everything behind. Will you let me stay?”

“Yes,” she gasped, clinging to him. The sea was in his hair, in the smell and the taste of his skin, but he was hers.

“I should have done that before,” he said. “I never should have tried to take you away from your world, and I was wrong to leave you the way I did. I’m so sorry, Ellen.”

“Come up to the house,” she said. As she thumbed the new scars on his face, she added, “And you can tell me the full story behind these scars.”

As they made their way up the path, she helped him when he stumbled, his legs shaky with disuse, and he laughed, blushing furiously.

Inside the stillness of her home, he looked around and said, “It’s hardly changed…”

“I might have changed,” she laughed, eyeing the matching creases around his eyes too, “But no, this place hasn’t changed much.”

Kaerio went suddenly still, his eyes fixed on the beam above her bed. “You kept it,” he breathed and she didn’t need to turn and follow his gaze to know that he was staring at the shell they had found on the beach.

“For luck and love, huh?” she said, taking his hand and letting him squeeze her fingers tightly.

“Luck and love,” he murmured, turning to face her with a smile in his dark eyes.

—

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