Title: “Sand in Our Fur; Dust on Our Feathers; Saltwater Across Our Scales” or “The Battleground in our Souls” (Part 3)
Fandom: The Pacific/ His Dark Materials (Daemon Crossover-Verse)
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: “The Pacific” and “His Dark Materials” do not belong to me, and I make no money in the writing of this fiction. This fiction is based on the television series and the book trilogy and in no way reflects the actual lives of the men the characters are based on—it’s all fun and games here. “His Dark Materials” belongs to Philip Pullman, and the publishers respectively.
Notes/Summary: Conley has never had a problem with the shape his daemon takes, but it astounds and somewhat hurts to find how unhappy the people he loves around him are with their own souls. As for Chuckler and Beatrice, he's more interested in keeping both him and his poorly mannered daemon in line--the results tend to be mixed.
Warning: I can't really remember if I said 'fuck' but I definitely said it right now.
In Soviet Russia, cut fakes you.
(This is a Philip Pullman “His Dark Materials” daemon crossover fic, though I left out the ice bears and much of everything else in the books, save the daemons. It started off as curiosity and character study, as I simply love daemon crossovers, and so far have not read anything with “The Pacific” and daemons in way of this sort of thing. So I guess it is not a true-true cross over, but the daemon element is definitely there, so…yeah, I guess I should find a way to file that one.
Well...I was gonna do Basilone and Lena, but...you know. Why? Am I right? Anyway, might as well be talking to myself over here, but regardless. Same old song and dance people, like it, dislike it, apathetic to it, lemme know.)