#“wrap those tentacles around me.” what if i was laying on the floor. laughing until tears streamed down my face

[reclusiverisottonero]

So here's a snippet of a long fic I'm close to finishing. Everyone lives, post-VA where La Squadra start a polyamorous relationship in the aftermath of their trauma. Risotto's struggling and has refused to join them, but why? Well, its explained near immediately because I haven no patience to write a slow burn fic. I’ll tag @mariesmh and @dicksoutformtl since they’re interested.

💖 The first part is Melone/Risotto from the Prologue to give a bit of context to what type of injuries they've all suffered and how Risotto feels about it. Melone's POV third person.

🥓 The second part is from Chapter 4, Prosciutto/Risotto within the context of a D/s scene that involves Sir kink, inappropriate use of stands via Grateful Dead tentacles, blowjobs, leg locking, facial, slight overstimulation and voyeurism (the other members of La Squadra are watching but not participating). Risotto POV third person.

It's soooo hard to not just share this whole fucking thing but I don't wanna do that until it's done! I just have maybe two chapters left and it's driving me crazy! >:(

Whatever feedback you guys can give will be very appreciated, I hope yall enjoy!

💕 Prologue Snippet, Melone/Risotto, Melone POV--

Risotto sits back in the chair for a moment, runs a hand through his dirty hair. Slowly, he reaches out and takes Melone’s hand, brushing his thumb over the gloved knuckles. It would be so easy for Melone to be petty right now. For him to snatch his hand back and give Risotto a small taste of what he’s been feeling these last few months. He can’t bring himself to do it when Risotto laces their fingers together, grip tightening as if Melone will disappear into thin air if he lets him go.

“Are you all sure about this?” Risotto utters so softly that Melone almost didn’t catch it. “Wouldn’t you consider it an abuse of power?”

Melone scoffs, “Don’t bullshit me, that can’t be what this is about. You might be capo, but you’ve never treated us as beneath you. At least it’s felt that way until recently.”

Risotto looks away and rubs at his chest with his free hand as if he’s in pain. Where Melone knows clustered bullet scars lay just shy of his heart.

“Then let me rephrase,” Risotto bites at his lip and turns his focus to the floor. His hair long enough to shield his eyes as he forces out the words, “Even with everything I’ve put you through. After what I’ve done to this team—You still want—You would all still want to—”

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck, they really are stupid.

“You didn’t force us to do anything,” Melone takes his hand back to cup Risotto’s face, making him look up so he could see into those weary eyes, “It was our choice to follow you.”

Risotto shakes his head in disbelief, laughs hard and bitter. He shoves Melone’s hands away to stand and start pacing, “And my choices are why Prosciutto’s body is barely holding together. Pesci’s nerves cause his limbs to randomly lose feeling and it can last for days. Ghiaccio still coughs up blood after raising his voice and sometimes can’t even speak. Formaggio was nearly flayed alive. He won’t look into a mirror anymore unless it’s for talking to Illuso.”

“Stop it, Risotto, that’s enough—”

“And it’s a fucking miracle that only so many pieces of Illuso had melted off as he escaped. If he’d been any slower—Don’t even get me started on Sorbet and Gelato—” Risotto stops cold as Melone puts himself in his path and presses up against the solid wall of his body, wraps his arms around him.

The way Risotto’s voice cracks on his next words make Melone’s heart ache, “Then there’s you.”

“You don’t have to keep going, I was there,” Melone says, muffled into Risotto’s chest.

As if he needs a reminder of that night. His tongue had swollen twice its size and he’d almost choked on it right in the middle of the train station. Antivenom and hospital intervention could only do so much. In the end his tongue had been unsalvageable, necrotized to the stump. Would have spread to his jaw if not for Giovanna’s intervention, and that had hurt more than the initial snake bite. The muscles in his face and neck take hours to stop twitching whenever he’s stressed and had they not found the right combination of medications for his cluster headaches, he might’ve taken a power tool to his temples ages ago.

The only reason any of them recovered as well as they had was because of swearing their loyalty to Passione’s new management. It was also why they’d been healed only so much. The members of La Squadra Esecuzioni didn’t get to where they were by dumb luck. All of them know damn well what Don Giovanna’s so-called mercy means.

Risotto can throw him around like he weighs nothing, and yet he lets himself get pulled into a kiss. His lips move soft and unsure, questioning where to go, what to do. Melone takes him gently by the chin, and shows him the way.

When their bodies hit the mattress, Melone takes advantage of the impact to coax Risotto’s mouth open. Slides his tongue along that plush bottom lip before worrying it between his teeth. He smoothes his hands up Risotto’s abs, presses his palms over the nipples that peak through the shirt’s thin fabric before moving steadily up to settle once again on wide shoulders. A soft moan slips from Risotto’s mouth and before Melone can greedily swallow the sound, Risotto pulls away. He turns his head into the bedsheets, hiding his face as if he’s ashamed of what he wants.

Melone can’t bear any more of this misplaced guilt.

“I don’t have any regrets, nor resentment,” He kisses along Risotto’s neck, “and I know the others feel the same. Truly, Risotto. So come back to us, we miss you.”

Dawn breaks through the cracks of the blinds as Risotto pulls Melone impossibly closer, buries his face into the crook of his neck and trembles apart in silence.

When he’s calmed down, Melone pushes his warm lips against the shell of Risotto’s ear and whispers, “Tell me what you need. I’ll give it to you. Anything.”

That’s how Melone finds a belt wrapped tight around Risotto’s throat as he folds his Capo in half and fucks him into the bed that early morning. And later how he finds himself zip-tying Risotto’s wrists to the bedpost and sneers at how much of a needy slut he is, edging him until all the iron-based items in the room rattle and then doesn’t let him cum until the evening of next day. Then he bends Risotto over the desk in his office so the thick insulation can muffle his sobs, and uses the same belt as before to beat the swell of his ass into brilliant shades of red. And then—

They put a set of rules in place, with new ones eventually added, and old ones changed or removed. Thoroughly discussed. Then gone over again. Once more, just to be sure. Toys are bought online, and their packages are received with the utmost discretion.

Weeks go by, and things start to improve, slowly. Risotto continues to have that look on his face when around everyone else, but at least he’s able to be around everyone else. Even if he acts too cautious, like one wrong step would see him in some sort of exile. As if he isn’t a seasoned assassin who’s murdered dozens, nor a capo in the most dangerous organization in the country.

Melone continues to be the only one he goes to for sex. Which raises more than a few brows and jealous mutterings behind his back that Melone pretends not to hear and tries not to take to heart. Being a part of this thing, (a polycule, thank you, internet) is so new for all of them. No one has a clue what they’re doing, he has no idea what he’s doing. On top of that, none of them have ever been very good at using their words to express themselves.

When he gently confronts Risotto about it, the man shrugs like usual when he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of something that’s actually a big deal. Usually when that issue has to do with himself. Fuck’s sake, Melone’s going to have to wrestle Prosciutto or Pesci or maybe even Illuso, someone into helping him make some kind of spread sheet about interpreting all of their communication styles and just casually pass them out at their next weekly meeting.

“I enjoy the dynamic we have.” Risotto answers, confirming Melone’s suspicion that their style of play is what Risotto usually prefers, them having only fucked vanilla (well, by their standards) a handful of times. Past and current partners like Melone to be on the receiving end but he was more than familiar with the dominant role as well. If this is how Risotto needs it, then he’s more than happy for things to stay this way between them.

Risotto bows his head, keeps his eyes on the floor, “You say there’s no resentment, but how can you—I don’t know if I can—” He pinches the bridge of his nose, frustrated, “With the way I look and my rank as capo, I’m sure they all have certain expectations of me. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

More than I already have.

💕 Chapter Four Snippet, Prosciutto/Risotto, Risotto POV--

“Well, I’m not going to make you beg, at least not yet.” Prosciutto lays back on the bed, pushes the bottle of lube that was hiding in the sheets into Risotto’s eager hands and says, “I want you to use your mouth and hands on me. If you can make it good, I’ll think about rewarding you further.”

He unclasps the hooks at the crotch of the bodysuit, and Prosciutto is so hard that his cock springs up with enough force to nearly hit Risotto square in the face. Prosciutto doesn’t take notice, grunts as the hot length twitches against Risotto’s lips. He kisses down the shaft, sucks on the veins near the base, grazing his teeth along the light blue lines, nice and slow. He can feel Prosciutto’s blood thrumming, rising up to tint the skin he plays with between his teeth.

A weight materializes and settles behind him but it's not warm nor heavy enough to be a human body, the skin inflexible and texture too rigid. Four long tendrils brush against his back, tease along the rope burns and bruises left behind from the shibari. A tendril wraps around his waist, and it doesn’t take much effort for Risotto to figure out what’s happening. The tendrils spread him open, and one slides down feather soft to rest against his hole. Risotto shivers, takes a moment to look down and sees The Grateful Dead’s monstrously large hands caging him in under it’s humanoid form.

He can feel Prosciutto’s smirk, “Surprise.”

Risotto hadn’t explicitly set any rules against the use of stands for tonight. That had been left to Melone’s judgment because of his craving for as little input as possible over what will happen to him. Still, he’d have to be special kind of stupid to go along with this. The Grateful Dead could whither them all away, ashes to ashes, in seconds.

“You better have a good reason for why you’ve stopped. Is there something you need to tell me?” Prosciutto sits up a bit, gauging his reaction. An obvious way of giving Risotto an out should he need it. A tendril encircles his throat, the blunt end coming to rest just under his mouth.

It would be an insult not to trust Prosciutto or Melone to know what they’re doing, and he won’t contemplate it any further.

“No, sir.” Risotto licks his lips, flicks his tongue against the blunt end of the tendril.

Prosciutto shivers as his tongue makes contact, “Then stop wasting my time and finish what you’ve started.”

Risotto responds by sucking down the head of Prosciutto’s cock, savoring the taste and feel of pale thighs twitching against the sides of his face. He relaxes his throat, softens his tongue on the way down until coarse dark blond hair tickles his nose. His knuckles press and roll along the seam of Prosciutto’s sack experimentally, and there’s a heady rush of pride when he hears a keen, feels the heels of Prosciutto’s feet dig lightly into his back.

His other hand pops open the bottle of lube, warms the slick between his digits before circling the soft heat of Prosciutto’s entrance. The tendril resting against his own hole imitates the motions, every press and twist and tease. He moans around the cock in his mouth as heat pours back into him, slowly starting to fill out his own cock as he hears Prosciutto’s laugh filling the room. It’s cut off when Risotto sinks his finger inside to the second knuckle and Grateful Dead sinks further inside of him at the same time, both of them moaning in tandem. Prosciutto’s thighs clamp tighter around his face, using the leverage to shoot back up and curl around his head.

“Stop, wait just a moment, it’s—It’s so much—” Prosciutto’s hands twist in his hair until his eyes start to water, presses Risotto’s face down on his cock impossibly further and for a moment Risotto thinks that he’s going to remain trapped here. Not that he minds at all. He focuses on breathing steady through his nose, swallowing around the head of Prosciutto’s cock resting a little past the ring of his throat.

The man above him moans out, body going slack once again, “Risotto—So good for me—Fuck fuck fuck, this feels—”

He can’t even begin to imagine what the feedback loop Prosciutto’s receiving from his stand fucking into him feels like. Prosciutto’s grip steadily goes slack, giving him enough room to work again and he can already taste precum. A steady leak that he swallows down every time the head of Prosciutto’s cock reaches the back of his throat. When the moans of the man above him turn into chants of praise and rising whines he adds another finger, thrust and curls them both double time.

Prosciutto’s heady noises are going straight to his cock and Risotto tries to press his hips into the side of the bed for some relief, but Grateful Dead’s grip around his waist is unflappable. Risotto moans over a pass against his prostate as his fingers curl inside the man above him and the vibrations cause Prosciutto's thighs to start shaking again. His voice cracks over a cry of Risotto’s name with hips stuttering against his mouth. Risotto can’t bring himself to show any mercy at that reaction, he hums a steady rhythm and clenches purposefully around the tendril that's stopped thrusting inside of him. It twitches erratically at his entrance, proper multitasking an impossible feat for Prosciutto in the face of his impending release.

“‘S too much, get off, get off me!” Prosciutto howls, back arching so hard that it has to be painful.

For a brief moment cum paints the back of Risotto’s throat, across his tongue and lips. The tendrils that had been content to rest around his neck and waist tighten, pulling him back enough for Prosciutto to grind his spurting cock against his face. He keeps his eyes closed and mouth open, sticks out his tongue to chase down as much of the taste as he can until Prosciutto’s hips go still.

Prosciutto slings an arm over his face. Every heave of his chest rides the body suit up higher along his tight waist in a sweaty, cum stained mess. Risotto takes in the pallor of Prosciutto’s skin, the thick cords of scar tissue peeking out from underneath the bunched fabric. He smooths his hands up just past Prosciutto’s hips and the man flinches back so Risotto silently retreats, letting him straighten out the dark mesh over his torso. When their eyes meet, he makes a show of licking his lips to break the strings of cum and split connecting his mouth and Prosciutto’s softening cock. Swipes his thumb over the thick stripes of it clinging to his face and sucks it clean with a pleased hum.

“Thank you, sir,” Risotto rasps, lightly floating outside himself. He rests his head on the softer part of Prosciutto’s thigh.

Prosciutto responds by stretching his arms out and groaning up at the ceiling.

“Now you know how I felt!” Ghiaccio teases, a chorus of laughs following after.

Prosciutto sits up to throw a pillow at the group but he’s laughing, bright and unguarded along with them. Risotto smiles before he can stop himself, pressing suckling kisses into the skin beneath him until one of Prosciutto’s bare feet brushes up his half-hard shaft. He goes rigid at the touch, gasping as he becomes present in his body again.

[skelanonymous]

First - Killermare

Words - 3.1k

I decided I needed more happy Killermare, even though I’ve literally written a ton of it. I should write literally anybody else next…>_>

-

Killer entered into the kitchen with a tense back, casually perusing the fridge with a wince. He’d taken a hard hit on the side during the last fight with the Stars. Probably cracked something, but nothing was falling off so he didn’t bother too much with it. His determination would hold him together.

He grabbed the carton of milk and took a swig straight from the container.

“Other people use that you know.” 

“Too bad for them.” Killer turned around to grin at Nightmare. He’d recently gotten into his Boss’s VERY good graces and no broken bones were going to keep him out of it. “Well if it isn’t small, dark, and Lovecraftian.” That got a chuckle, a rare thing to hear from Nightmare. It made his target soul ache something awful, hearing that cute sound and not being able to do anything with it, not nearly close enough to Nightmare to capitalize on the opportunity. 

“As good with words as with a knife, hmmm?” Nightmare stood in his space, touching along his arm unconsciously. Killer tried to keep his mouth in check.

“I’m also pretty good with my hands.” God damn idiot brain, hitting on his fucking god level boss. There’s fucking with people and there’s shooting out of your league. He just smiled through it. “Whatcha need Boss?”

“I’m moving a wing of the library and needed an extra pair of hands.” 

“And you knew how talented mine were, so you came right to me?” Killer slid the milk back into the refrigerator. He leaned back on his left side to keep from agitating the right, elbows on the counter, a picture of relaxation. 

“Something like that.” Nightmare laughed again. Killer held in the pleased sigh, standing up, crossing his arms behind his head very delicately.

“I’m all yours Boss. Lead the way.”

They wandered down the hall directly towards the library, Killer keeping step just behind Nightmare, letting him stare all he wanted without being caught. Those strong thick tentacles swayed around his back, framing his ass for Killer to appreciate along the lengthy hallways. He rarely went over this way unless Night summoned him here.

Nightmare already cleared small sections away, stacks of meticulously organized books littering the floor. He gestured to a pile.

“Start here and work clockwise. I’ve laid it out to make it easy enough for you to do without me babysitting your progress.” 

So began replacing them on the shelves. Killer hid the winces of pain from stooping and bending fairly well, silently moving until he hit a tiny snag. He reached up to place one on a tall shelf when he flinched into the wall.

His body hit the shelves and dislodged an avalanche onto his head. He almost moved away before one smashed into his cracked ribs.

"Son of a fucking bitch!

"Killer!" Nightmare raced over to unbury him. The tentacles made quick work of them, stacking haphazardly off of Killer’s winded form. His hands were on Killer’s forehead in an instant, checking for cracks, diligently looking over him after hearing the cry of pain. Killer groaned angrily when he was cleared off.

“Fucking Blue and his fucking blue attacks. Ugh.” Killer couldn’t sit up, pain still blossoming fresh in his chest. Night paused in looking him over.

“Were you wounded on the last mission?” His single eye penetrated his two, pinning him under it until he relented, grimacing with a gesture to his ribs he’d been carefully avoiding.

“Yeah. Stars got a good hit in on me. Was fine until the book hit it though.”

“Clearly not, considering you lost your usually impeccable balance!” Nightmare’s tentacles wrapped Killer up to get him standing without making him bend the wounded area. “Come with me. Healing magic is easiest when accompanied by intent, wrapping it will make it easier.” He grumbled and took off towards his room, Killer hobbling after to keep up. 

Walking into Night’s room changed the mood. He suddenly felt out of place, surrounded by luxurious purples tones and dark wooden furniture. Night had gestured to the bed before wandering into his private bathroom.

His bed was comfortable. Killer’s nerves ruined any enjoyment of getting into Nightmare’s room, jittery from the moment he was directed to sit on the plush comforters. Nightmare returned with a roll of bandages and an unimpressed look.

“I thought you were smart enough to know how to care for yourself.” He moved in front of him. “Take off your jacket and t-shirt.”

Thankfully Night was too focused on unraveling the bandages and gathering antiseptic to see Killer’s face go red, suddenly very aware that he was in his boss’s room, said boss’s hands about to be on him after a request to undress. He pulled them off smooth and casual, but his grin practically cracked at the edges. 

“What the hell?”

Night’s hands hovered over the cracked ribs, flinching back at the small break that Killer had dislodged from its setting.

“Yeah, it’s not great.”

“Killer!” Night growled at him. “Why didn’t you seek treatment before THIS?!” He gestured to the crumbled ends of the break from grinding against each other. “This is entirely fucking curable! It’s ridiculous you didn’t, at the very least, wrap this!” The growl travelled up his body, baring his teeth at him, tentacles cracking like whips at his back. Killer didn’t move, but his voice took on a nervous edge.

“I’m a dead man walking boss. I’ll just keep going forward until I can’t anymore.” Healing magic was taxing. All of them were terrible at it besides Nightmare, who never offered, only taking over when he was clearly needed. They never want to bother him to ask for it.

“I could’ve fixed this sooner.” Nightmare pinched the bone into place with a click. Killer gasped in pain. He wrapped it tightly, uncaring about Killer’s harsh pants while doing so.

“We only take it when you offer. None of us wanna annoy you.” Fuck, he was so falling out of Night’s good graces for this. After he worked so hard, some dumb break was gunna take him back to zero. He fisted the plush comforter. “Your time is important.”

“To whom, when you dust from accumulating injuries that I can’t see?” 

“The multiverse I guess.”

“The multiverse doesn’t give a shit about me or my time. This is all I have.” Nightmare pinched his nasal crest after finishing. “You serve me, but I cannot do this alone. Your lives are valuable to me. I thought you, especially, would know this Killer."

"Why do ya say that?"

"Because of how important you are to me." Nightmare's hands grew warm with gathering magic, mending now that everything would heal correctly. "All of you are valuable, like the supporting beams holding the castle aloft, but you are more integral. You are the center pillar. As my right hand, as long as you stand, I have faith in my ability to recover. I believed you to be my most valuable asset, but if you’re going to just let yourself turn to dust, then I’ll-”

“No!” Killer’s soul snapped into a heart shape, eyelights flickering in time to meet Night’s inquisitive gaze. “I’m not dusting on you just like that.” He grabbed Night’s warm hands away, taking them up in front of his startled cyan face.

“K-Killer?” He brought them up and kissed the phalanges as one would do to their king.

“If you’ll continue as long as I am by your side, then I’ll remain with you until I die.” Killer’s sockets went half-lidded, struck by the emotion his inverted soul let in, his silly crush amplified ten-fold by Nightmare’s faith in him. He’d never seen his boss look so confused, eye wide and frantically searching Killer’s. “What’s wrong boss?” 

“You-I’m...what’s-why all-”Killer’s hands had long since gained a mind of their own. He slid wordlessy off the bed into Night’s space, silencing him with a casual touch on the cheek, fondly caressing the bright greenish glow. 

“Shouldn’t have told me I meant so much to ya cuz I’m gunna take that to heart.” Then he swooped down to kiss him.

Killer pressed their teeth together firmly, tilting their heads to line up for deepening the kiss. He relaxed into it, holding Nightmare close while getting a taste, slowly touching and teasing Night's tongue with playful flicks. He could feel the very hesitant kiss back before they parted for air.

"Feeling shy Nightmare? Don't worry. I'm bold enough for the both of us." 

Killer laughed into the next one, leaning into it to force Night's response, groaning at the feel of the shy tongue in his own mouth. He could feel his small partner shaking in his arms when they broke apart.

"Killer…" It must've been awhile since Nightmare got with anyone to sound so needy. 

"I'm here. Wanna have some fun Nightmare?" He whispered it into Night's ear, smiling at the trembling he could still feel against his ribs, lost in the heady feeling. Night devolved to breathy pants, which Killer dove into before he felt tentacles lay solidly against his chest to push him back.

"Killer, wait, I can't-I'm not prepared for this." Night's flushed face told a different story, but he didn't fancy being killed.

"I've got lots of patience. I'll just make you feel good until you are." Killer's mouth slid down to Night’s neck, sucking on the bone to the high pitched whines, sending all his thoughts south, ecto eager to form at the slightest provocation. His haze broke under the Night's firm push out of his space. 

"Killer, stop." 

His back connected with the bed, wincing from his still (though much less so) wounded bones. The rejection stung worse.

"Sorry boss." That HURT, knowing he'd fucked up pretty royally. God, he'd forced himself on Nightmare right after he'd been given a shred of attention. He was such a fucking idiot. "I'll keep my hands to myself." His eyelights poofed decisively. He almost couldn't bear to look at him, but he needed to see Nightmare's face at least once.

Night hadn't stopped shaking. His tentacles attempted to hide him from view, face fully blushing, head still tilted away from the fresh mark Killer had left, noises leaking unfiltered from his trembling body. 

"S-s-sorry. I-I c-can't handle it-t. Too much." Killer grabbed his shirt and hoodie from where it lay beside him.

"I'll leave you be. Maybe annoy Horror or something, I don't know." Anything to not be here. Playing it off would make it easier to take, even if it meant no second chances with Night. He slid his clothes back on. "Come find me when you got the next mission lined up."

A tentacle wrapped around his ankle before he took the first step.

"Why are you leaving?" His voice was airy, light, breathless.

"I'm a dick, but not that much of one. I went too far, I'll give ya some space for a day." He shrugged, a drop of hate splashing on the floor. He'd describe his emotions as 'in shambles.'

"I don't want space. I just need a minute."

"I don't know Boss. Shouldn't rush that kind of thing." He could stomach taking advantage of people outside of this castle, but betraying the ones inside it, those who guarded his back and knew where he slept (and cared about but he'd never tell them that), it turned his mood sour. It ate at the pit of his stomach and it’d eat through him entirely if he didn’t get the fuck outta dodge.

"What thing?"

"Being assaulted, harassed, whatever you wanna call it. And being the person who forced themselves upon ya, don't think I should be here." He tugged at his ankle again, but Night hadn't relented.

"Killer, I didn't stop you because I didn't want it." He avoided Killer's eye roll.

"Uh-huh." Killer really didn't want to resort to cutting off the tentacle. It wouldn't hurt him, but it'd suck and prove he was an asshole, so he pulled harder. "Say I believed you. Then why?"

"Killer, I…" Nightmare looked like he wanted the carpet to swallow him. "I've never kissed anyone."

"...What?" He stopped struggling against his restraint. "There's no way. You're telling me, five hundred years of existing, and you hadn’t had your first kiss?"

"Yes." And Killer commited a cardinal sin without thinking.

"But Dream definit-" Is fucking Ink or Blue or Cross or all of them, he wanted to say, but Night was quicker.

"I am aware." Nightmare's glare was potent, but Killer's confusion was denser. "But he is lovable, unlike me."

"You're lovable." It slipped out in-between all the mental gymnastics. He wasn't sure he wasn't being fucked with still. "So you haven't…" How to phrase this delicately, he wondered. "...slept with anyone?"

"Killer, I haven't kissed anyone. Why the fuck would I have slept with someone?"

"You gotta know how unbelievable this is." Talking wouldn't reassure him, so Killer leaned down into Night's space again, stopping just shy of his teeth. "You're telling me that someone as fuckable as you's been ignored all this time?" Nightmare's single eye widened with the flush. Killer smoothed out his tone, dropping it low to hold him at the edge of his words. "Nice juicy peach you are, no one's tried to pluck you up? I can barely look without salivatin'." He lapped at his teeth, careful to keep his hands in safe places. He wanted to see how inexperienced Night really was without ruining his chances forever.

Nightmare's tentacles laid limp behind him, all the tremors coming from his real form, whose hands had raised to snatch at the shoulders of his hoodie, gripping tightly when he caved under the languid licks at his mouth by letting Killer in.

Patience led this one, Killer carefully taking over every inch of Night's mouth. The slower pace served to work up his partner faster. Nightmare's calmness abated, tentacles waking up to come and clutch at Killer's form, Night crawling onto him, transforming the kiss into a frenzy of desire that Killer surrendered to, as long as Night was leading the way. The tentacles touched plenty of hot spots, but he kept his own hands on innocent ground. Night's confidence could crumble under too much of a good thing.

"Take a breath, Nightlight." Night shivered against him after breaking apart, so much sensation his body was unaccustomed to. "I gotcha." Killer rubbed soothing circles into his back.

"I can see how that could escalate." Nightmare finally got out. It made him laugh. 

"Yeah. It's pretty easy to get carried away." He kissed the top of his skull before laughing again. "You give handsy a whole new meaning though."

"Sorry." The sweet little monster in his arms barely resembled his boss, hiding his face by burrowing into Killer's chest. 

"Don't be. It's pretty hot." His lewd grin made Night blush again.

"I would've thought my corruption would be the ugliest and most disgusting part of me." He punctuated it with said appendages undulating behind him.

"Boss, I just kissed the fuck outta you and I've never known you without it. Trust me, not a deterrent." Killer stroked down one to make Night's spine curl. "If you learn how to use ‘em right, they're pretty useful in the bedroom."

"Don't call me Boss when we're like this." Night whispered softly. His face caught between a glare and something soft, he was starting to come back to his senses.

"That might be too much power Nightlight." He grinned at the tiny glare. "How was your first kiss then?"

"Nice." Nightmare sighed as he sat up, unfurling all the aching limbs. The usual persona rebuilt itself. But now, Killer knew how easy the composure was to break. "I'd like to repeat it sometime."

"I'm all yours." He'd never get sick of that face if Night was willing to let him see it. They rose together from the floor, Night reestablishing the space between them.

"I'll have to talk to the others about not bringing injuries to me. Time spent on them is not time wasted." He straightened his sweater, presentable before opening the door. Killer choked the urge down to mess it up again. “The idea that you would’ve rather lost a rib than speak to me is absurd.”

"Yeah." They better not take his catch. Fuck them.

"I'm not going to kiss them Killer. The sour look is atrocious on you." Night's brow raised. Caught red handed. Killer laughed.

"Can you blame me? I know the kind of filthy degenerates who live here; I'm one of them. I don't want 'em to take a bite outta you." Subconsciously, he shook his sleeves to feel the weight of his multiple blades.

"You act as though there are many vying for my affection. People used to throw rocks at me for walking by their homes, and now they try to kill me. I'm not surrounded by suitors." He said this while walking down the hall towards the still upturned library. His strides were confident, power inherent is his manner, carried with a royal grace that Killer could only ape with minimal success. The only reason he wasn't swamped with competition was everyone had been too chickenshit to make a move. 

"Ya also thought I wasn't interested and nothing has ever been less fucking true." He pushed his luck a little further, stepping in front of Nightmare to kiss him quickly. The chaste thing was almost too much considering the shakes. "I'll just keep doing it if ya don't say anything."

“We need to reassemble the library.” He huffed through, walking by with weak knees, Killer trailing just behind. “This wasn’t an invitation to touch me at all times.”

“Only some of the time then?” 

“Shut up.” He humored the request once inside Night’s treasured library. 

Back to quietly organizing, clockwise, his talented hands flipped them onto shelves with ease now that he wasn’t hindered by aches. It was quick and effortless like it should have been the first time. He’d begun humming by the time he placed the last one, not expecting the hand on his shoulder but welcoming it as he had earlier the same day. Night silently pressed something into his palm.

“I trust I don’t need to explain.” Killer’s fingers closed over the silver key, smiling and spinning it on his pointer while leaving the now neat library. Guess his league was a lot wider than he thought. It wasn’t an invitation to his bed, but the invitation to his heart was just as good.

“Gotcha loud and clear boss. See ya soon.” 

-

They CUTE.

[agerestorybits]

Skitter bitty

 Virgil has a problem. The fact that when he regresses his spider traits come out. Multiple eyes and long spider legs out of his back. He also shrunk down to child size normally around eight or younger. While in his littlespace he would hide and panic every time he heard someone get close. He often climbed up into the corner of the ceiling of his room where it was darkest, or under his bed, or the back of his closet. 

But he could only hide it for so long...

(During Selfishness vs selflessness redux)

Virgil was about two and deeply upset, to the point of curling up under his bed his oversized hood pulled over his head. The patches on the back were carefully placed so his spider legs could slip out an unsewn side of the patches and hug him tightly. He heard the door open before something landed heavily on his bed. He cried out in fear before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Remus’ head was suddenly in front of his upside down, “So THERE you are! I-” Remus trailed off as he looked at the multiple solid blacks eyes staring back at him from a too small face. Remus rolled off the bed to lay on the floor face to face with Virgil.

“G-go away.” Virgil said, trying to not sound scared. He pointed towards the door as he curled further under the bed.

“Mmmm nah. That would be irresponsible to leave you alone Spider bitty.” Remus said before pulling out a clean handkerchief and gently drying off the tears from Virgil’s cheeks. Virgil flinched from the first touch but when Remus waited for him to move towards him, he relaxed and let Remus keep going.

“You’re not grossed out?” Virgil asked hesitantly.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Really? You think I’m going to be grossed out by a couple cool extra legs?” He let his tentacles out so they could lay unthreatening on the floor.

“Oh.” Virgil blinked before tensing. “You gonna to hurt me?”

“I won’t.” Remus said softly. “I know I’ve not been the nicest to you but I’m not going to hurt you.”

Virgil slowly crawled out from under the bed, his spider legs uncurled from his body and pulled him out of the dark. Remus retreated a bit so that he wasn’t right in front of Virgil. Virgil stood up on his human legs, Remus stood as well.

There was yelling and Virgil jumped before climbing up Remus and clinging to his back. Remus wrapped a tentacle around him to make sure he didn’t fall off. “Shhh it’s ok.”

“Don’t like loud.” Virgil whispered, pulling his hood down over his face with both hands.

Remus summoned some noise cancelling headphones and gave them to the boy. Virgil snapped them over his ears before taking a deep breath. He started biting his fingernails so Remus made him a cobweb shaped chewie. He had been tempted to make it a fly but didn’t think Virgil would willingly put something that looked like a bug in his mouth.

He slowly shifted Virgil around so he was clinging to his chest instead and sat down cross legged on the bed. He smiled as Virgil curled up against him. He rubbed soothing Circles on his back listening to the yelling from outside.

He leaned back against the headboard, stuck under a toddler. Otherwise he would go join in the chaos. He sighed heavily at the missed opportunity. Oh well. He looked down at Virgil to find him limp and almost asleep. He smiled again, missing out wasn’t that bad.

---

Things were tense afterwards. Virgil cornered Remus and made him swear to never tell anyone, in return Remus demanded that be allowed to hang out with Virgil when he was little.

“Why?” Virgil asked, narrowing his eyes.

Because you need something to help you. “You’re a spider boy, I’m not going to pass up the chance to see that.”

“You already did.” Virgil pointed out stiffly.

“Still cool.” Remus shot back causing Virgil to blink before huffing out a small, “fine.”

Remus beamed.

So well Janus tried to get Roman and Logan to talk to him, and Patton was busy having a crisis, Remus was busy repairing his friendship with Virgil.

Remus got used to Virgil summoning to find him small and hiding until Remus showed up only to cling to him. “Baby day spider bitty?” Remus asked as the little gummed at his fingers under a pile of clothing in his closet. Virgil hummed before crawling out and up onto Remus’ back.

Remus laughed and snapped his fingers, a plush of a jack the skeleton appeared in his hands and handed it to the little who squeaked in excitement. “Yeah You’re welcome.”

Virgil patted the back of Remus’ head and started chewing on Jack’s arm. Sunk out to his room to continue painting.

He had been working for about a half hour before his door opened and a very angry Janus stormed in causing the duo to freeze. “Honestly! I’m trying to communicate! Why is it so hard for them to-”

He stopped and blinked before Virgil covered his face with his hood again. “Is...is that Virgil?” he said, causing Virgil to whimper.

Remus was quick to shift him around so he could hug him. “Hey, It’s just Dee, he's not gonna judge you.”

“Of course.” Janus said off balance. Virgil peeked at him with eight solid black unblinking eyes. Each one tearing up. Janus snapped out of his shock. “It’s alright skitter.”

“Ssste?” Virgil muttered around the fingers that had found their way back into his mouth. Janus frowned and made a pacifier with a jack o lantern button on it. He handed it to Virgil one looked at it before squeaking in happiness and chewing on the handle. Remus snorted.

“No, You put this part in your mouth.” He said taking the paci, causing Virgil to reach for it, before popping the correct part in his mouth. Virgil hummed and rested his head on Remus’ shoulder while looking at Janus.

Remus swayed a little in place. “So you had something to tell me?”

Janus blinked. “That’s unimportant. How long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks?” Remus shrugged, “I haven’t kept track.”

“Do you know what’s causing it?” Janus asked, risking reaching out towards Virgil who grabbed one of his fingers and closing his eyes before sighing contently.

(That didn’t warm Janus’ heart at all by the way.)

“As far as I know he age regresses so...stress?” Remus shrugged again. “Not my job, I’m just keeping the bugger safe and calm while it happens.”

Janus stared. “You are keeping him safe and calm?”

“Yup! It’s my new side job.” Remus said.

Janus sputtered. “Since when do you do either of those things?”

“Since a few weeks ago, Come on Dee keep up!” Remus said rolling his eyes back into his head. Janus looked down at Virgil whose spider legs were hugging Remus’ chest keeping him solidly attached to him. He didn’t know how, but Remus had managed to get Virgil to trust him, and that trust was surprisingly not misplaced.

“Well, as long as it’s not harmful.” Janus trailed off as Virgil opened his eyes to look at him. Virgil let go of Janus’ finger to reach for his face. A tiny hand brushing against his scales.

Virgil almost poked Janus’ eye out before poking at his own face. “Yeah you both have really cool eyes.” Remus said.

“An eggs!” Virgil slapped Remus’ chest.

Remus laughed, “And we’ve got legs that’s right.” Then he dropped his voice really low. “You know Dee has extra arms too!”

Virgil gasped, making his paci fall out. “Rrrs!” He pointed at janus repeatedly. Janus let his other arms out and was shocked when Virgil pushed away from Remus and reached for him. Janus carefully took him, holding him not too tightly against his chest.

“Rrrs! Eggs! Ees!” Virgil said, waving his hands around.

“And it’s super cool.” Remus said grinning ear to ear watching Virgil get excited.

Virgil squeaked excited and bounced a bit in Janus’ grip.

Virgil rested his head on Janus’ shoulder and Janus totally didn’t smile warmly or sway a little. He did smack Remus for laughing.

---

“Where’s bitty? Where’s Vee?” Remus called out playfully as he walked through the hallways of the dark side. There was a giggingly from above him and he looked up to find Virgil on the ceiling.

Remus got him down with his tentacles causing Virgil to laugh loudly. Janus peeked his head out from the kitchen. “You done playing hide and seek?”

Virgil gasped, “Food?”

“Yes it’s food time.” Janus agreed before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Virgil tugged on Remus’ sash, “go! Food!”

Remus set Virgil on the ground and watched him scutter off into the kitchen. Over time he had become comfortable with his spider traits, almost proud of his extra abilities. The speed he could run at on his extra legs and being able to climb up things. Seeing in the dark.

Remus turned the corner to find Virgil on Janus’ back, One of Janus extra arms holding a plate for Virgil to eat off of while he made himself some.

Things were even getting better with big Virgil, who no longer hissed or tensed up when they entered the same room. He even leaned against Janus during movie night and got Logan and Roman to talk to him.

Of course the other ‘light sides’ didn’t know anything about what was going on with him and Virgil still threatened to maim them if they spilled. But Remus had no reason to tell them and possibly ruin what they had.

No sense in letting them take Virgil away a second time.

Besides, he was finally comfortable and happy with himself like this. Remus was never going to do anything that could ruin that.

[aurabird]

Haunted Dreams

Sausage just wants to sleep...but trauma weighs heavy on the mind.

Tw: Nightmares, blood/violence, brief disassociation

Also on Ao3

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

He walked through Mythland, a casual stroll through the streets of his empire to see it in all its restored glory now that he’d removed the corruption that had overun it. His citizens greeted him as he passed and he made a point to at least try and speak with as many of them as he could.

Then the sky grew dark, thunder echoing as lightning split the heavens and suddenly, the citizens around him were gone, as if they’d never been there to begin with.

Sausage knew what the storm meant and he ran; fear in his heart and panic in his mind. He needed to get away, he needed to hide. He was fooling himself, there was no hiding from the harbinger of the storm, no matter how much he wished there was.

He ducked into a building as he was inflicted with a blindness spell, cowering in a corner like a frightened animal. Maybe...maybe if he pretended they weren’t here like Joel did then they’d go away. Positive thinking right? That’s what Gem always told him.

“Hello, Sausage.” Xornoth said with a wicked grin as he came into view, “You and I have much to discuss.”

“No! G-Go away! I don’t work for you anymore!”

The demon laughed, “Oh Sausage, did you really think I’d leave you alone? You will never escape me!”

The next thing Sausage knew was been teleported, now on a netherbrick floor where familiar crimson tendrils were quick to bind him.

The blindness spell wore off and he felt his blood run cold. He knew where he was, he’d been here before when he was still under the influence of corruption. Even now he could almost hear the agonized cries and pleas of those he watched Xornoth torture...that he himself even tortured. Sausage could almost see Fwhip, Gem, and Kathrine bound and helpless, their blood still staining the ground.

“Its a new perspective isn’t it? Being on the receiving end of something you once enjoyed?” Xornoth questioned, twirling a dark, bloodied dagger in his hand as he walked “I cannot let your insolence go unpunished, Sausage.”

Suddenly, the demon was in front of him, its gaze meeting his own. “I wonder how easy you’ll be to break.”

  Sausage jolted upright with a cry, pain radiating in his right arm. He quickly looked at it in panic, expecting to see pulsating crimson veins. Instead, all he saw were the web-like scars where corruption had once been seared in his flesh. His gaze followed them from where they started at his wrist, and ended right over his heart.

He grimaced at the permanent reminders of what he’d done and averted his gaze to the room he was in. It wasn’t a dungeon where he would be tortured, it was his bedroom...in his keep...in Mythland.

There was no storm outside, moonlight shining brightly through the window and casting a gentle glow on the floor and walls.

A nightmare...that’s all it’d been. A remnant of the trauma he’d gone through. Still, there was no going back to sleep, not after that. Maybe...maybe he could go on a midnight walk to clear his head?

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, going over to his wardrobe and grabbing a simple undershirt, pants, and a cloak. It was a casual attire, much different than what he would normally wear, but it’d work.

Once he was on the cobbled streets he began his walk. Mythland was stunning at night, lanterns lit the paths and fireflies flickered in the air. The sound of night wildlife was therapeutic as it was joined by his quiet footsteps.

The bleating of blood sheep made him smile, with the corruption tentacles gone the symbols of his empire’s culture had come out from hiding, no longer afraid.

All was fine until Sausage could have sworn he saw a shadow move in the darkness. When he turned to look, it was gone.

Just a nocturnal animal he told himself before continuing down the path towards one of the residential areas.

He’d helped design some of the houses here himself and the sight of them made him smile. Light shone dimly through closed windows, alerting him that the residents were safe.

Then, in one of the alleys, he caught sight of a shadow, but it disappeared seconds after he made eye contact with it. A stray dog or cat he thought, that was all, there was no one out on the streets at this hour other than him.

As he continued he noticed that the sounds of the night had gone quiet, his footsteps echoed by another set behind him. He turned, but saw no one, not even the particles of an invisibility potion.

He was tired, that was all. He was tired and just imagining things. He was alone out here...he should probably head back home to rest.

Countless times more on his way back did he swear he was hearing footsteps, close enough to be in earshot, yet far enough away to be unnerving. He also could have sworn the shadow he kept seeing was following him. He knew it was just paranoia, once he was back in bed he’d be fine.

Soon, his home came into view and he went inside, climbing the stairs back to his bedroom.

He discarded the cloak, hanging it on the railing to put away in the morning and made his way over to his bed, not even bothering to get undressed again.

As he passed the mirror by his wardrobe though he froze, the reflection in it drawing his attention out of the corner of his eye. The second he turned to look, he recoiled with a yelp.

In the glass was a man that looked like him, a man dressed in black and grey with piercing red eyes and black veins marring their skin that had a faint crimson light flickering underneath. A sinister grin crossed their face as their gaze met his own.

“Look at you.” his reflection began in a distorted version of his voice, “Pathetic and weak once more. You were so powerful Sausage, you were feared. Don’t you miss it? The strength flowing through your veins, the magic at your fingertips. You could have had so much more too, if you’d stayed.”

It clicked then who the reflection was, it was someone he never wanted to see again, someone that terrified him. “I’m not you. I’m not a puppet for someone to order around.”

His reflection vanished and for a moment, Sausage thought he’d beaten his subconscious. He’d been wrong as he felt a sword go through him, the blade dripping with ink black blood as it protruded from his chest.

“You’re right,” came the voice of his doppelganger once more, “Because I am what you should have been.”

The sword was yanked back out, and Sausage fell to the ground, hacking and sputtering as the life drained from his body. 

“All I have to do, is kill you and take your place.”

The black blade of a corrupted netherite axe tore through the flesh of his neck.

  Once more he awoke with a cry, his hands instantly flying up to his throat instinctively in panic. Once he realized that his head was still attached did he dare open his eyes.

Sunlight came through the window and lit up the room, birds sung outside and the wind rustled the leaves of trees. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of his people going about their lives.

Tears formed in his eyes and he began to cry, ugly sobs coming from his throat at what he’d witnessed in his nightmare.

Then it dawned on him...what if he was still asleep? What if he’d just passed into another part of the illusion his traumatized mind was inflicting upon him?!

What if...what if he wasn’t really in Mythland? What if he’d failed in the spirit realm and as punishment he was left to suffer a nightmare for eternity?!

Who was he? The King of Mythland? The servant of evil? The condemned spirit left to be forgotten by those he cared about?

The mental turmoil was maddening and Sausage clutched the sides of his head, “Stop...make it stop...” he pleaded quietly.

A knock on the door snapped him from his spiraling thoughts, bringing him back to what he hoped was reality.

“Sausage are you home? I know you said you wanted to rest but I’m worried about you.”

Gem’s voice was music to his ears and Sausage quickly regained his composure as best he could before heading down the stairs to open the door for her.

“Hey, Gem.” he said with what he hopped was a happy tone, he didn’t want to worry her any more.

The wizard’s smile faded, “Sausage you look horrible, I thought you said you were going to get some sleep and recover!”

“What are you talking about Gem? I feel perfectly fine!” he countered casually, “I’ve been resting like I said I would after all!.”

Gem wasn’t convinced, “Sausage, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”

The question had been an innocent one, but the nightmare from the night before quickly flashed before him. “N-No, because I’m...I’m afraid of what I’ll see.” he admitted as he wrapped his arms around himself.

"What do you think you’ll see?”

Sausage grit his teeth, his body beginning to shake, “Him, Gem...the corrupted puppet of Xornoth...”

"He isn’t you, Sausage.”

“No...he’s not...” because he’s who I was supposed to be...

Gem broke the momentary silence that followed, “You’ve gone through a lot, Sausage and while I still don’t know if I can fully trust you yet, if you need to talk about anything then I’ll be right over alright?”

Sausage nodded and wrapped his arms around her just to make sure she was real and not another trick played by his mind, “Thank you.”

-

He had spent the next several days working, doing everything he could to keep himself from falling asleep, afraid of what would await him. He’d dozed off a few times and had found himself in several scenarios.

  Sometimes it’d been in the arena, the other rulers falling to his blade over-and-over again, bathing him in their blood while he smiled in sadistic pleasure.

Sometimes he’d be running from a shadow that would always catch him, its claws digging into his mind to puppet him around once more

Sometimes he’d see the wicked grin of his twisted doppelganger as they drove a blade through him, their words poisoning his thoughts and filling him with doubt and fear.

Sometimes he’d be laying helpless as Xornoth tortured him. Trying countless painful methods to ensure that this time the corruption taking over his body would be permanent.

  And when night fell he’d just lay in bed awake, guilt and trauma weighing heavy on his mind. The things he’d done were horrible and now that he was free, he would be hunted relentlessly by the one that had controlled him and the hybrid that still followed them.

Sausage was scared. He needed sleep...he needed help...

That had been the one word shakily scribbled onto the paper he’d tied around a raven’s leg before sending it to the Crystal Cliffs.

-

A knock on the door the following morning forced him to get out of bed and go to open it. Sausage’s movements were sluggish but he managed to succeed in his goal. Gem stood in the doorway, her expression morphing into a grimace once she saw the sorry sight he probably was. “Oh Sausage...what have you been doing to yourself...”

He collapsed into her, unable to hold back tears any longer, “I can’t sleep Gem! Every time I close my eyes the nightmares come, even if its just for a minute. Please Gem, sleeping potions...or even some kind of sleeping spell...just something, anything to help me fall asleep peacefully!”

Gem couldn’t think of any way to reply, only held the broken person in her arms.

“How about we get you inside? See what we can do?”

A distressed  but agreeing sound came from Sausage and Gem helped maneuver him upstairs and back into his bed. The Mythland king looked terrible, his clothes disheveled and his face pale enough that the dark circles forming beneath his eyes were extremely noticeable.

“Tell me everything, Sausage. Tell me about the nightmares and anything that is bothering you.”

So he did. Sausage spilled every detail about his nightmares and paranoia, about every little thing he feared and pondered. Gem listened intently as he spoke, never once interrupting, just letting him get his thoughts out.

By the time he finished Sausage felt as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, it was...nice.

The last of his energy had been sapped from his venting and the clutches of sleep tried to bring him into their hold.

Gem stroked his head, her sympathetic eyes meeting his own tired ones. “Go to sleep, Sausage.” he coaxed, “I’ll be here to wake you if I sense something is wrong.“

Sausage only gave a sigh, his eyelids slipping shut and lulling him into darkness.

But, for the first time in an unknown amount of days, the nightmares didn’t come. Sausage was at peace, finally able to rest.

[strangerthingsharrington]

Can’t Fight This Feeling

-23-

I felt like everything was going in slow motion. The realization that the monster was still there, going back to Starcourt if it wasn’t already there. My friends were there.

Steve was there.

Whatever was going to happen was going to happen at the mall, that was where this was going to end.

I should’ve gone with them. I knew Dustin and Erica would be safe at the hilltop. I knew it and I should’ve spoken up more. I couldn’t just stand by and let them fight this thing when I’m standing doing nothing.

“Lou?”

I looked next to me to Dustin just as I noticed the wetness on my cheeks from the tears.

“Are you okay?” he asked me.

I sniffled and wiped my nose as I looked down at my shoes, “I’m scared,” I admitted, looking back up at him, “I -I just don’t know what to do.”

Dustin sighed deeply and looked from me to the bottom of the hill, “Go,” he told me gently, looking back to me, “I hid my bike here, remember? Erica and I will be fine, but you’ll be too worried to be any help,” he said jokingly.

I shook my head, the thoughts I previously had about leaving Erica and Dustin disappearing quickly. I didn’t want to leave them either. I was between a rock and a hard place.

“No,” I said instantly, “Dust...I don’t want to leave you guys alone. If something happened here and I wasn’t around...I dont know what I’d do, Dustin. Really, I think I’d die if something happened to you.”

A small grin crossed his face, “We’d be able to see something coming, Lou. Besides, whatever the demogorgan wants- probably El- is still at the mall by the looks of it. Erica and I will be fine, but you’ll be here internally and externally freaking out. You know we’ll be safe. And I know you’ll be safe if you go there.”

I shook my head immediately, “Dust, no. There’s no way I’d-“

“Lou,” he said, cutting me off quickly, “I love you, but you’re going to be more of a liability here worrying about everyone at the mall, then you would be just at the mall. I’m not worried about you going there because I know-“ he stopped himself.

Dustin took a deep breath and nodded once, “I know Steve would do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Lou.”

My heart fluttered at his words. Dustin thought the same way I did.

Dustin put his hands on my shoulders, staring me right in the eyes, “Go down the hill and get my bike, Louise. Please.”

I bit my lip and nodded to him, “The second-the absolute second this is over, I’ll come back here to get both of you,” I told him stepping backwards out of his grasp.

He grinned up at me, “I know.”

I quickly reached out and grabbed Dustin, pulling him into a hug which he reciprocated hastily.

“I love you, Dusty,” I murmered.

“Love you too, Lou,” I heard him say quietly.

I pulled away from him, “I’ll be back soon,” I promised, taking a few steps back.

He nodded, “Go,” he implored.

I breathed out, nodding to him quickly, before turning and, carefully, running down the hill to the spot where I met Dustin a week earlier with moms car. I went to the tree line and grabbed his trusty bike, which was still hidden among the trees. I walked it over to the road and got on it as fast as I could without falling over, and began peddling quickly in the direction of Starcourt.

All I had was the cool breeze hitting my face and sounds of my steady breathing and wheels rolling on pavement. I was scared. Absolutely terrified.

I was scared for my friends at the mall.

I was scared for Steve. I was being honest when I told him I wasn’t sure what I would do if something happened to him and I wasn’t there.

I was scared for Dustin and Erica alone on the hilltop.

I was scared for the rest of Hawkins...this monster seemed more dangerous than the ones Dustin and Steve told us about.

My thoughts just kept repeating those same things over and over again. I couldn’t think of anything else. The ride was taking forever. My legs were burning. After the events of the past 24 hours or so, my body felt like it was giving up.

Every inch of me was in the worst pain imaginable. I was breathing heavily and felt like I was on the verge of passing out.

But as I rode past the empty businesses on Main Street and down the familiar roads of Hawkins and saw the bright flickering lights of Starcourt come into focus all the pain I was in was worth it, because I knew I was going to be able to help them. Somehow.

As I got closer to the doors of the mall I saw three different cars.

The Wheeler’s station wagon. Billy’s car that was smoking heavily.

And the ToddFather. I stopped peddling and jumped off the bike, running over to the yellow convertible that I had last saw Steve and Robin leaving me to get to. The front was smashed up but they weren’t in it.

They had to have gotten out themselves, I told myself. Billy hadn’t gotten them, a monster hadn’t gotten them. They were okay.

I ran towards the doors and ran into the mall without breaking my stride. I heard loud popping and banging and fizzing noises. As I ran to the food court, I saw the fireworks lighting up the ceiling.

I was speechless watching them go off. It wasn’t until a looked a bit further down from the sparkling display that I saw this...blob of a monster standing and swaying trying to get out of the halo of bright lights that were surrounding it.

I took a few faltering steps back in absolute shock about what was in front of me. This was the monster that was threatening all of us.

I began running to the escalator, I knew the fireworks were coming from above and I just knew it was the party tossing them onto the monster to distract it while Hopper, Mrs. Byers and Murray tried to close the gate.

Once I reached the second floor I looked along the railing and saw Steve leaning over it with his hand outstretched behind him, waiting for Robin to hand him a lit firework.

“Steve!” I shouted as loudly as I could, as I began jogging to him.

He looked around quickly before he found me. I could see the shock and confusion on his face a got closer to him.   

I ran to him and he opened his arms without another thought. I ran right into the hug, wrapping my arms around his neck as he held me to him tightly around my waist.

“What are you doing here?” he asked me.

He pulled away from me and put both of his hands on each side of my face, “I just...needed to make sure you were gonna be okay. Dustin and Erica are okay at the top of the hill...this is where the fight is.”

“I wish you would have listened to me,” he told me quietly.

“Would you have listened to me?” I asked him back.

He let out a small laugh, “No, probably not,” he said lowering his hands.

“Hey? Lovebirds!” Robin shouted.

I looked to her quickly, “Hate to break this up but we have a few more important things to deal with,” she said as she lit a firework and tossed it over the railing.

Steve took my hand and we went over to the last remaining unlit firework on the floor, Robin grabbed it and lit it, shoving it into my unoccupied hand, “You get the last one, make it good!” she instructed.

Without thinking twice about it I turned toward the railing, looked at the giant monster in the middle of the food court, surrounding my sparkling lights and fizzing sounds. I leaned as far over the railing as I could and threw the firework, it started falling down by the monsters face before it exploded into blue and red lights.

There was only one more pop after ours, I looked to Steve, “Is everyone out?”

He shook his head, “I - yeah I mean, I think so.”

The monster below us roared loudly, realizing that there wasn’t anymore blinding light and noises to distract it from what it must have been there for.

“El,” Steve whispered from next to me.

I looked over to him and saw him looking down at the food court, I followed his eye sight and saw El laying on the ground of the food court with Billy hovering over her.

“We have to help her!” I told him as I let go of his hand.

Before he could answer me I was already rushing toward the escalator.

“Hey-hey- Lou! Stop!” he called out after me.

I stopped only when I felt his hand on my wrist, “Lou, just wait a second!”

I turned to him, “We have to help her!” I told him sternly with tears beginning to form in my eyes, “we have to get to her.”

I saw the battle going on in his head, his eyes were moving rapidly back and forth trying to figure out something.

“Guys?”

I looked behind Steve to see Robin looking over the railing with a shocked expression.

I looked over the railing at the same time Steve did and saw Billy had left El’s side and was walking to the monster in the midst of the flashing lights and fires that had broken out around the food court.

The monster was snarling and roaring, but I lept my eyes stuck to Billy. Unsure of what he was doing.

The monster had taken a few steps closer to Billy, and by extension, El. El was cowering in fear behind Billy.

But then something shot out of the monster mouth and Billy lifted his hands up taking the brunt of the attack.

Almost like he was...protecting Eleven.

I let out a small gasp as I heard Billy screaming, along with the screeching of the monster.

There was a tentacle from the monster that came out and went into Billy’s side. Billy was hunched over in pain. Another tentacle from the other side of the monster came out and went to Billy’s other side. Billy was groaning in pain and the monster continued to screech in his face.

I couldn’t look away from the sight below us. I was in shock watching everything unfold. Steve and I were squeezing each other’s hands. I couldn’t look away to look at him to see how he felt.

The monster was going to kill Billy. Right there in the Starcourt mall food court. Right in front of all of us, including his little step sister, Max.

More tentacles began sprouting up from the monster and began attaching themselves onto Billy.

Billy screamed out in agony as his hands dropped from the front of him, and his body fell back limp, the only thing holding him up was the monster, before he finally fell forwards onto his knees.

The monster opened its mouth roaring in Billy’s face, as Billy screamed loudly. Another tentacle shot out of the monsters mouth and went for Billy’s chest.

From somewhere in the mall I could hear Max screaming out his name. The tentacles retracted from Billy’s body and he fell to the side, landing on his back.

My chest tightened and tears welled immediately in my eyes. He gave himself up to protect El. I wasn’t sure what she did or said to him, but he must have...I don’t know, come back to his senses. Broken free of whatever hold the monster had on him.

I looked over to Steve and saw his mouth hanging open, looking down at Billy lying on the ground.

“Is he dead?” he asked quietly.

I looked back to Billy’s body, “I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

The monster began screeching loudly and stumbling backwards.

I gasped as it loudly snarled, “What’s going on?” I cried.

Steve pulled me back just at the right second as the monster stumbled into the railing of the second floor where we were. The monster teetered for a moment before falling over.

We ran back to the railing and looked over at it, laying among the flames.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mike and Max going over to El, with Mike hugging her instantly. Max walked slowly to Billy and got on her knees.

I looked back to Robin and Steve, “Come on,” I implored, rushing towards the escalator to go to them.

I ran down the escalator and into the food court, over to Mike, El and Max.

“Are you guys okay?” I asked, falling to my knees as I made it to them.

El looked up to me, wide eyed before looking back to Max, who was going over to Billy’s body.

I wrapped an arm around El and brought her close to me, “El are you okay?” I asked again.

“No,” she whispered as she looked over to Max, kneeling next to Billy just a few feet from us.

I let go of El as Mike wrapped an arm around her tightly. I watched Max but didn’t know what to do or say to her.

I felt an arm slip around my shoulder and didn’t need to looked up to know it was Steve kneeling next to me.

El removed herself from Mike and walked over to Max, falling to her knees next to her where she wrapped her arms around her and pulled Max to her in a hug as Max sobbed.

My eyes filled with tears watching the two of them together. El was saying reassuring words to Max, trying to help calm her down. El looked back to us, unsure of what to do, but none of us knew what to do at that point either.

The rest of the group had finally come down and were all around us. Lucas immediately went to Max and El, where El let go of Max and Lucas held onto her, letting her sob into his shoulder, with Mike going back to El’s side immediately.

We all just stayed there quietly, unable to articulate our emotions at that moment. What was there to do or say? This wasn’t the outcome any of us hoped for.

The silence was broken by people running into the food court in camouflage uniforms and helmets carrying large assault weapons. They were all yelling at us quickly and loudly and I couldn’t make out a word they were saying.

We all got up quickly with our hands raised, with Steve stepping in front of me to put distance between us.

“Dr. Owens sent us, we’re with the national guard! Is this the only monster?” one of them yelled once the rest of the guards stopped yelling.

We all sheepishly nodded our heads, “Lower your weapons!” he called over his shoulder to the others. They all simultaneously lowered their guns and in turn, we dropped our hands slowly.

“We’re going to get this cleaned up,” he told us, “when the police or anyone asks you, what we had here tonight at Starcourt was a massive fire. Understood?”

I took a deep breath and nodded my head, unsure of how, exactly this was going to be cleaned up.

The guard sighed and nodded back to us, “You’re all free to leave then. Go,” he instructed.

Steve turned to me immediately, “Come on, Lou,” he whispered.

I looked around him to see Max and El. Max was silently crying with Lucas and El both with arms around her leading her out.

“Let’s go outside, Lou,” Steve said bringing my attention back to him.

I looked at him and nodded, I took his hand in mine and let him lead me out.

——

Thank you everyone for your patience! Sorry this took so long...it’s been a weird time with everything going on and trying to navigate life. But I’m happy to bring a new chapter out for this!!

GIF credit to owner and title credit to REO Speedwagon!

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 53- Rescue

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Grian is at the mercy of Dolios and his dark magic, but are the hermits there to save him in time? Or has the end come for the healing mage?

[Note: Hey everyone, I’m sorry for the time that was between chapters. A lot of really emotional and personal things happened over the past few months, and it just really pushed me off balance. But I really cant thank Red enough for being at my side the whole time- he’s the real hero in all of this. 

Happy Season 8!]

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To be back in the dark, cold bowels of the dungeons, willingly returning to the chamber that Dolios forced them to play his game in, left every hermit with a strange mix of dread and remorse. Almost every hermit, except for the few that weren’t around during the championship, can remember waking up in cells, being dragged from the hard stone floor at knifepoint, and turned into pawns for Dolios to control. Promising he will kill every last one in his game, and making TFC play along. 

But they hardly linger in the very chamber where their guildmaster outwitted the Magistrate of Lairyon, rather continuing on their search for a passage to the subchamber. Scar can feel the cavity in the stone beneath their feet, but no staircase seems to lead them down. It wasn’t until Cleo summoned the ghosts of those who died here, their souls lingering, that they are pointed in the right direction. So many souls, having seen so much suffering, not just from Dolios within these walls, though many are from his doing. 

A ghost guides the hermits to a circular room, and though their voice has long faded with time, their misty hands point to the center of the room. Mumbo kneels down. “There’s machinery here. If I just…” He places his hands against the smooth stone, and without even having to think, his magic appears. Redstone seeping through the seams of the rock, reconfiguring the mechanics and forcing the spiral staircase to descend. 

Everyone, including Mumbo, is surprised by his power. He’s never had such control before in his life. But they don’t linger on this new development. Not when time is running shorter and shorter for Grian. They cause a jam in the thin staircase, twenty something hermits rushing to the subchamber. Unlike the rooms above them, the stone is rough cut, no bricks or stenciling. It looks more like a cave blown open than a carved dungeon. 

A heavy weight wraps in on the hermits. They know they’re close as the pressure increases on their bodies. They follow the struggle to breathe, the feeling of carrying stones on their back. They’ve come to know the signs of a dark crystal well- and it leads them right to not one, but three towers of corrupted gems. 

They’re massive, protruding from the ground at an angle, black spikes erupting from the earth. The air is heavy with mist, swirling in tendrils, like the very tentacles of Eurynomos, way back in the forest. The mist grasps the open air, siphoning the very life from the stone and oxygen and taking it for itself. Every so often, a pulse of darkness bursts from the corrupted crystals, with such force it causes the entire cavern to shudder, and blows back the hermits’ hair and clothes. They all duck with each explosion, but one person remains standing, reveling in the energy that's breaking free from the crystals. 

Dolios’s fingers toy with the mist, grasping the air and feeling the power. With each eruption, the black seal between him and the central crystal glows. For a second, the hermits swear they can see the mist at his back look almost...feather-like. 

“Oh my gods… Grian.” Stress’s voice is so small, so quiet, the other hermits almost don’t hear it. But their captured friend’s name on anyone’s lips is enough to catch their attention. 

He’s grey, so monochrome that it was almost impossible to pick him out among the black crystals, the grey mist, and the dark magic. Limp body and hands, eyes open but unseeing, Grian is chained to the central crystal. Once blond hair, now an ashen grey, curls and crests over Grian’s face, his chin dropped to his chest. The hermits don’t breathe until they see him do so, but it’s a horribly shallow breath. Another wave of energy rolls through the crystals, and Grian’s body loses more of its color. More of it’s life. At this point, he hardly even reacts to the tearing of his lifeforce, his magic, from his body. Fingers twitch, but even those are beginning to turn flaky, fading away into oblivion. The tips of his once blue cape become little more than mist. Even the energy, the powers of the very atoms are being torn apart. Grian was very near death- or a fate worse. 

All for Dolios, and his insatiable need for power. The low thunder of every wave is broken by Dolios’s voice. He flexes his hands, laughing to himself. “Of all the angels I’ve stolen magic from before, it has never been this strong. Even Celia had nothing against you. I feel like I could blow all of Milliara apart with a windstorm this instant! Don’t worry, little bird, your magic is in good hands.” 

Iskall and Mumbo both scuffle to their feet, surging forward. Mumbo faster than Iskall. Too fast for TFC to grab him before he’s over the boulder they hid behind. And too fast to stop even his own magic from summoning. But it wasn’t the out of control magic that the hermits have seen before. Like destroying the crystal shard on Eremita, or in the depths of the Hangman’s Playground. 

No, even though lightning filled Mumbo’s vision, and magic surged through his veins like energy through a redstone circuit, he had every wit and thought about him. For the first time, he had true, full control. Every iota of power was at his command, like a dragon spreading it’s wings for it’s first flight across the sky. 

With a flippant wave of his hand, the twin satellite crystals shatter, red bolts of lightning creasing through the darkness-bound lattice. The air is filled with glittering crystals, mist freed from the quartz and purging it of the darkness. Mumbo turns his power, his attention towards the crystal that Grian’s chained to, and presses his fingers together to destroy the last crystal. 

He’s blown off his feet, a burst of wind from nowhere sending him skidding across the floor. When Mumbo gathers his wits and looks up, finally seeing Dolios through his anger, the magistrates is wild with manic delight. “Oh, now that’s real magic. I think this little bird’s powers might become my new favorite.” The other hermits dare to step out, walking through the shattered, transparent remains of the crystals. Dolios is the only color before them, his plush robes and rich colors standing out against the swirling magic. “Ah, the whole parade is here. Come to watch your friend die? Or will you all be joining him as well?” 

Dolios turns, resting his gaze on Grian. The hermits watch in horror as their healer looks as if he’s about to blow away in the wind. Like dust in the shape of a human. His eyes are empty, no glimmer of life left. They realize they may be too late. 

But that doesn’t stop them from getting their revenge. Mumbo remains focused on the crystal his friend is trapped against, but a sharp shard of gemstone goes flying through the air, cracking Dolios upside the head. Blood pours from the wound, matting the curly brown hair that crowns Dolios. He turns, anger mixing with the mania into a dangerous concoction. But his fury doesn’t get to live long, not when Scar drives a wedge of rock into Dolios’s jaw. This time it’s the magistrate that goes skidding across the rough hewn floor. In his attempt to stand up, Dolios becomes ensnared in just about every medium of magic the hermits can offer. Vines tie him down, radioactive spikes pin his clothes and hair to the floor, a ring of hellfire erupting from the depths of the earth. 

Mumbo, however, remains focused on his best friend before him. Summoning all his magic, every ounce of effort he’s ever put forth, he sends a bolt of lightning directly to the core of the crystal that is draining Grian. The lightning strikes true, hardly even raising a hair on what remains of the sky angel, but obliterating the crystal he hangs from. From the inside out, the darkness is banished by red light, like the sun rising red on a bright, beautiful daybreak. Blinding everyone within the cave- except Mumbo. He’s not lost in the light, the power, the magic. He’s a part of it all. 

The crystal shatters, and Grian falls. Crumpled to the ground, he looks to be little more than a pile of ash and rags among the sparkling crystal shards. Like the moon adrift in the sea of stars. 

When the hermits blink away their momentary blindness, they find Mumbo is already at his friend’s side. With a few teary blinks, the last of the lightning fizzles away, and Mumbo’s voice cracks like the very gems he destroyed. “G-Grian? Grian, wake up.” 

But Grian doesn’t move. Mumbo reaches out, grabbing the angel and pulling him to the safety of the hermits. Holding him close as the others surround. Ren reaches out, placing a hand on Grian’s shoulder. He retreats immediately, when Grian’s shoulder seems to fade from existence, flaking to ash and falling apart under Ren’s pressure. “Is he….” 

No one dares speak the word. Joe scribbles down a healing poem, but the magic does nothing. Grian doesn’t breathe, his eyes don’t blink. They just stare, empty, at the cavern roof above. And he continues to fade, all color lost, becoming nothing more than dust. 

“No, nononononono.” Mumbo’s words stumble and jumble together, and he shakes and jolts Grian as if trying to rise him from a dream. “Grian, don’t leave us! We need you!” 

Still nothing. 

Mumbo’s shoulders slump. A weight heavier than any dark crystal hangs over the hermits as Grian’s limp form lays in Mumbo’s arms before them. Tears threaten to spill from Mumbo’s eyes. Grian was his first real friend, the one who saved him all those years ago. And he couldn’t return the favor now. It was Grian that offered him kindness, offered him friendship. Grian who gave Mumbo a true family, a real home, who trained with him even when all seemed hopeless, and drank with him when nights were bright. It was because of Grian that Mumbo has a father in TFC, friends all around him. And now? 

Now his best friend was dead in his arms. Fading from existence, his magic and life stolen by a monster in magistrate’s clothes. Mumbo tips his head, breath stuttering as tears fall freely. Like a stream after a storm, rivers of salt water across his cheeks, cresting his jaw and running across the valley of his throat. Some droplets are caught in his mustache, others stain the collar of his outfit. All the hermits openly cry, even Doc. Memories flood alongside the tears, bowed heads over their fallen comrade as Mumbo holds his fallen friend tight.

One tear falls straight down, landing with a wet plop on Grian’s eyelid. Water, the lifeblood of Lairyon, slowly drips into Grian’s own vacant eyes. And from the ashen grey, empty gaze, a single vein of blue appears within his iris. 

Like a river, the blue flows freely, spilling across Giran’s sky blue eyes. Filling the empty grey valley with fresh blue water. And from the blue, like the sun reflecting off the see, a glimmer appears. 

Iskall noticed the color returning first. The pink of Grian’s face, sunlight colored hair beginning to renourish with color. Bringing Grian slowly back from death’s doorstep. He slaps Mumbo on the shoulder, his own breath gasping. Words struggling to break free from the nuclear wizard’s mouth, rather just random noises escaping his lips. 

It’s enough to get Mumbo’s attention, as well as every other hermit. Through teary eyes, they see the color spread. The red of Grian’s robes, the blue of his cape. The translucent, flaking form becomes solid and tangible again. 

And then Grian breathes. So shallow and soft, it’s almost impossible to see. But to the hermits, it might as well be an earth breaking tremble. Eyes blink, and parted lips move. A whisper of a voice breaks free from death’s grip. “Mumbo? Iskall? Guys?”

Grian can’t sing, but the words from him might as well be a chorus of angels. He was alive. Whether it was pure luck, the gift of life that water carries, or simply the friendship the hermits hold, something brought Grian back from the brink. 

Only one thing can break the joy. And that one thing has to open his mouth. From across the room, Dolios writhes in his bonds, snering. “Oh that’s just touching, isn’t it? If I can’t have it all, then I might as well kill every last one of you.” 

Doc realizes what’s happening first, but Dolios is just out of reach. A bout of strength that can only be attributed to previously stolen magic, Dolios tears apart the vines and breaks apart the crossed spears of iskallium. He stands, brushing off leaves and radioactive dust from his robes and tugging on his ponytail. When he opens his eyes, a crooked, crazed grin creases the leader’s normally charismatic face. “Do you really think such weak power can hold me down?” 

Wels reacts just in time to shield the hermits from the arc of magic that aimed for the group. Dolios doesn’t let up on his barrage, and the magical barrier begins to crack and contort against the dark energy. No hermit can step out from behind the shield without risking certain death. 

A wild, cackling laughter echoes off the cavern. “What will you roaches do without your precious angel now? Who will save you now?”

Wels’s barrier breaks. And Dolios attacks.

[betelgeusessonajblog]

Carlos’ Story

So I’m not doing the “FULL LIFE.” of Carlos but from when he was about 17-30ish. Carlos’ Childhood was pretty much normal. Loving parents, did well in school, had some bullies here and there but nothing awful. Anyways Enjoy

A young 17 year old Carlos sits with four of his friends, watching TV. It was the weekend for them and they were trying to find something fun to do.

One of the monsters sighs, he was a grey monster with a pair of horns on his head and was on a bit on the chubby side, turns to his friends and says “Alright fuck this I’m bored, TV sucks ass. You guys up for doing Truth or Dare?”

The others looked at Each other before shrugging “Couldn’t hurt.” was the general consensuses. It beat sitting around being bored all day.

So they all went upstairs to the grey monster’s bedroom, Carlos folds his arms a little “I think we should agree on one thing: Nothing extreme that could get us in hospital or in trouble, Sammy.”

The grey monster, Sammy, nodded in agreement “Sounds good to me. Last thing I need is my parents biting my head off.”

“Doesn’t that kinda defeat the purpose of Truth or Dare?” Another monster asked, this one was a monster that had tentacles for legs and spikes on his head.

“Dan, don’t you remember the fucking BITCH fit my mom had when she saw those broken boards when we broke them for fun? they weren’t even being used for anything, just sitting around.”  Sammy said as he shook his head.

“Didn’t one of those boards also fly up and smack you in the junk?” Carlos asked as Sammy winced

“Yeah....Alright so her anger wasn’t unwarranted....” Sammy said before muttering under his breath “washopingyouguyswouldn’trememberthat.”

The others chuckled before they sat on the floor and began playing Truth or Dare. Some of the dares were dumb like letting the darer to send a nonsense text to a random contact in their phone or do laps around the house backwards which usually ended up with someone falling flat on their ass. 

They knew if they do anything stupid they would end up in MASSIVE trouble so they had to keep it as tame as possible. They didn’t care though, they were joking around and having fun, laughing like idiots.

At one point on one of Carlos’ turn, Sammy asked him ‘Truth or Dare’ and up until now, he had been trying to avoid dares as much as possible so deciding to try something different Carlos answered “Alright...Dare me.”

Sammy folds his arms as he thought for a few moments before smirking “Alright....I dare you to...Kiss Mike.”

Mike, whom was drinking his soda, did a spit take hearing that and began coughing “Wh-What?!” they exclaimed in unison

“You heard me. I dare you and, Mike to kiss.” Sammy smirked as he leans backwards, Dan snickers a little at their reaction.

Mike looks at Carlos, both of them sighed heavily, they were reluctant to do it but decided “Fine, can’t ruin the fun.”

Mike moved closer to Carlos and they both took a moment before sharing a brief kiss on the lips before Mike quickly pulled away, wiping his mouth “Ugh why’d you dare that?”

Sammy chuckled “Cause it’s funny seeing you guys freak.”

Carlos was silent for a few moments before looking at the time “Alright, I gotta head off. Mom and, Dad’ll kill me if I’m out too late.”

“Aw you aren’t staying longer? Was Mike that bad of a kisser~?” Sammy snickered.

Carlos shook his head “Goodbye, you dorks.” he said before heading back to his house and greeted his mom and, dad. They told him they would order dinner tonight so Carlos smiled before heading upstairs.

He grabbed a quick shower before changing into his pyjamas then sat down on the bed. He sighs a little as he begins to think over that...kiss It felt...oddly nice...he lays down and begins thinking it over.

The last few weeks he’d found himself checking out his classmates or staring at an actor in a movie he was watching. He blushes lightly as he starts to realise he was interested in guys. This was the first time he had ever thought about it but....yeah he couldn’t deny it, he liked guys.

Over the next few days, Carlos had kept quiet to himself thinking if he should come out to anyone or not. When in class, he’d occasionally glance at another guy.

One evening, Carlos was browsing the web, looking at websites for advice about this kinda thing. He’d got his homework done for the night so he had time to kill. 

There were some horror stories about someone being disowned for coming out to his family so that started to freak him out, what if his parents reacted the same way? What if they disowned him and kicked him out? No...they wouldn’t do that...would they? They loved him....right?

Soon his Mom came to the bottom of the stairs and called up to him that the dinner they had ordered had arrived.

He got out of his seat then headed downstairs and sat at the table then began to eat his dinner. 

He was silent as he ate which his parents noticed, Carlos’ dad looked at his wife then to Carlos “Carlos? are you alright, son?” he asked, concerned that something happened to him.

Carlos paused for a few moments before putting his fork down “...I um...” he sighs heavily “I...I realised something about myself recently...”

HIs parents looked confused before Carlos continued “...Over the last few weeks....I started....checking out other guys....and I’ve realised I...I really like them...w-we were playing Truth or Dare the other day and I was dared to kiss Mike and we did and...it...the kiss felt nice...I’m not into him in that romantically but I honestly...I liked how it felt....” 

Neither of them said anything until Carlos was finished speaking to which his mom said “Oh honey we love you no matter what.”

His dad nodded in agreement “Yeah, son. We’ve always told you that we’d love you no matter what. You’re still our son, you’re still Carlos.” they were both smiling, all that worrying....for nothing.

Carlos couldn’t help but begin to cry, feeling relieved that he’d came out to his parents, that he was able to talk to them. His parents got up and gave Carlos a long hug, this was more than enough to reassure his mind that it was real, he was accepted.

The following year after graduating from high school, Carlos came out to Sammy, Mike and, Dan. They said they were cool with him, he was still the same ‘dork’ they’d always known.

Carlos had decided to attend the local community college with Sammy whilst Mike and, Dan had gone to different ones. The first day at college was uneventful and rather boring. 

Carlos and, Sammy got the full tour of their campus and had managed to get their ID’s sorted out and their dorm room keys. They weren’t in the same dorm but were neighbours which they were both happy about, long as they could still hang out.

Carlos checked his dorm key number then the door before he unlocked it then walked inside. On the bed, reading a book, was a dog-like monster had two small horns on his head, he had a pretty muscular body from what Carlos could see.

The dog-like monster looked up from his book,  his eyes were a light blue colour, He smiled a little “oh hey, you my roomie?” he asked

Carlos nodded “Yep, I am.” he walks over with a smile as he put his bag down on the free bed “I’m Carlos Garcia.” he said as he held his hand out to shake the dog-like monster’s hand.

He smiles before shaking Carlos’ hand “I’m Oliver Sanders. You can call me Ollie. It’s nice to meet you, Carlos.”

“Likewise.” Carlos said with a smile as he sat down. The two began to chat, and get to know each other. They laughed about how long the tour took, bonded over video games they’d played or movies they’d seen.

Over the next few months Carlos and, Ollie had began hanging out a lot. Playing games in their down time when not studying, they'd watch movies together. Slowly but surely Carlos started to fall for Ollie, the two of them were enjoying each other’s company but, Carlos didn’t say anything at first.

One evening whilst the two were watching a movie, Ollie snuggled into Carlos which caused the lizard to blush heavily. He slowly wraps an arm around Ollie whom smiled a little before looking up “Finally making a move, huh?” he asked 

Carlos looked down “Wh-What...?” he blushed deeper before Ollie snickered then sat up “Carlos....for the last month  I’ve had feelings for you....”

"Y-You do...?” Carlos asked as Ollie nodded smiling “...I...I like you too...a lot....”

Ollie smiles before leaning in a little, Carlos did the same. And soon the two were kissing each other deeply and passionately, they moaned softly as they made out before eventually pulling away.

Ollie smirked a little “God you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

Carlos panted a little as he pressed his forehead against Ollie’s “I’ve...never kissed anyone like that....”

“Yeah...? Well I’m so happy we got to do that, handsome.” Ollie said still smiling.

The two spent the remainder of the night, talking about when they realised they were into guys. Carlos told Ollie about the dare and how he was panicked. Ollie told Carlos about how he and his best friend made out when they were seventeen but nothing ever came from it, relationship wise. It was just two friends experimenting. 

Ollie admitted that he had never came out to his family, he was too afraid to do so. Carlos understood and told him he’d support him no matter what.

Eventually summer came so Carlos and, Ollie decided to hangout together at Ollie’s home a lot. Luckily for them they were only half an hour away from each other so when they got home for the summer, things went well at first.

They met each others friends and everyone ended up getting along together rather well and hung out constantly. They’d chill out at the arcades or go see a movie. Things were going great.

That is until Ollie decided to come out to his family, he knew that he and Carlos’ relationship couldn’t remain hidden forever. Especially considering they could be seen by Ollie’s older brothers.

This...didn’t go well for poor Ollie, unfortunately. His family were instantly furious hearing their son was “a faggot.” called him all kinds of names not just faggot but all sorts of nasty things. He was ultimately kicked out of his house and ended up spending the night at Carlos’ place

Carlos spent the night holding Ollie, kissing him and telling him that they weren’t worthy of having him in their life.

A few days passed and, Carlos got some of his and, Ollie’s friends together and told them what happened. They decided they’d pull together what money they had to get Ollie an apartment for a while.

Ollie was absolutely touched by their gesture and so grateful for his friends and, boyfriend. They had got him some furniture and, Carlos’ parents chipped in a little so Ollie would have some groceries.

Ollie and, Carlos sat together on the couch that night, Ollie was laying with his head on Carlos’ lap, the lizard was stroking his boyfriend’s head gently.

“You....you’re an incredible boyfriend, Carlos..” Ollie said as he teared up again “S-Sorry I just can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

Carlos kisses Ollie’s forehead gently “Of course I would, Oll...you mean the world to me....”

"....I...I love you, Carlos...” Ollie said as he took Carlos’ hand “I mean that....”

Carlos smiled a little before kissing Ollie on the lips “I love you too, honey....”

That night, the two had sex together for the first time. Up until that point, they were both too nervous to do it but this time, it felt right. Showing how much they loved each other. It was gentle but passionate.

A couple days later, Ollie got himself a job at a retail place. He couldn’t rely on everyone else paying for his apartment for ever. The job wasn’t the best but to Ollie, it was better than nothing

A few weeks pass, Carlos had walked Oliver to work due to him having to do some errands for his mom and Dad. So when they got to the front door, Carlos gave Ollie a small kiss on the lips before Carlos walked off to do what he needed to do.

As soon as Ollie walked in, his boss began to yell at him for ‘indecent display’  with Carlos. Calling them vile, sinners and that they should be ashamed of themselves and soon the boss fired Ollie, despite Ollie trying to defend himself.

Things unfortunately spiralled out of control for Ollie rather quickly after that. Despite trying his hardest to get a job, he failed to find one that would either give him decent pay or one that was hiring.

Eventually, Ollie lost his apartment and ended up being homeless. Some nights he’d sleep at a homeless shelter. So when he hung out with his friends and, Carlos he would act as though everything was okay.

When he’d stay at Carlos’ home for the night, Ollie would use Carlos’ bathroom to shower and wash his fur. Carlos didn’t think anything was wrong cause Ollie kept acting like his usual, happy go lucky self.

That is until Carlos found out about Ollie being fired which lead to them having their first ever fight. Ollie still never admitted to his friends or Carlos that he was homeless, just that he lost his job because his boss was a douche.

They started fighting more often when their friends found out about Ollie losing his job due to his sexuality. Eventually they smoothed things out and apologised to each other.

One night, two months after losing his job and ending up homeless, Ollie was sat with Carlos eating dinner together in Carlos when Ollie looked at his partner “So um...I’ve been thinking......maybe we should...move in together?”

Carlos, whom was in the middle of drinking a soda, began coughing and sputtering “W-What??”

“I said, I think we should move in together.” Ollie repeated himself, a serious look on his face.

Carlos coughed a couple times “A...Are we ready for that??” he asked after he stopped coughing

“What? are you saying you don’t want to move in with me??” Ollie asked, feeling upset at the thought of not living with his boyfriend.

“H-Hon we’ve only been together a few months. W-We’re still in college. S-Shouldn’t we think about that after we graduate?”

Ollie didn’t say anything, he was hoping Carlos would jump at the chance to move in together...they loved each other so much, right? He sighed but nodded a little “Y-Yeah I’m sorry hon.” he got up and grabbed his coat “I’m gonna head home for the night.”

“You don’t wanna stay over?” Carlos asked to which Ollie shook his head

“Nah...I’m...I’m gonna try and get an early night then see if I can find a job. Gotta keep at it. I’m okay, hon.” he smiled before heading out the door. Carlos walked to the door “...I love you, Ollie....”

Ollie turned his head to Carlos and gave, what looked like, a genuine smile “I love you too, Carlos.”

After that night, no one saw Ollie for a few days. Carlos began to get more and, more worried. He tried Ollie’s apartment at first but quickly found out his boyfriend had been lying to him for a while about still living there when a new tenant opened the door.

Carlos called Sammy and their friends to help him find Ollie which everyone agreed to. They spent the next two days trying to hunt him down, checking all of Ollie’s favourite spots.

There was one last spot that Carlos hadn’t checked, it was a spot that Ollie had told him about that he used to hide out in when Ollie was a kid.

Carlos decided to check out that area, he looked around remembering the small details Ollie told him. Eventually Carlos gets to where Ollie told him about where he would hide.

Upon arriving there....Carlos saw Ollie hanging on a tree, a noose tied around his neck...lifeless. He dropped to his knees and begins sobbing uncontrollably, he had lost his partner in a matter of seconds. 

He spots a note attached to Ollie’s body so Carlos shakily stands up and and takes the note off Ollie’s torso then begins to read the note

‘My dearest Carlos...I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner but I’ve been dealing with depression for quite some time now. I hadn’t told you this but I had lost not only my job, but I also lost my home. That’s why I asked you about moving in together. But please understand that this was NOT your fault, not at all. I just...I can’t handle this any more. So...I decided to end my life. I will never stop loving you, Carlos. I will always be watching over you. You were the greatest part of my life for the last few months or so. I’m so glad that I got to spend time with you. I love you always....Ollie.”

Carlos wailed and sobbed uncontrollably, he felt so guilty over losing his partner. He begins going over everything in his head, thinking had he just noticed sooner, maybe he could’ve helped Ollie.

Those next few weeks were the darkest of Carlos’ life, he found himself fighting depression, There was a small funeral for Oliver that Carlos’ family raised money for. They loved Ollie as if he were their own so this was the least they could do.

Carlos went there and was very...numb during the funeral....but eventually broke down watching Ollie’s coffin being lowered into the ground. His parents hugged Carlos tightly, this was something they never wanted their son to go through.

Many years later, Carlos had been in therapy for a year after Ollie’s death and it was still something that haunted him every now and then. Things had changed quite significantly since then.

During his time in college, Carlos decided to get a job to after everything that had happened, he wanted to be independent from his parents and not rely on them for money any more.

So he found himself working in a strip club as a waiter until three years later at 21, he was asked to cover a co-worker’s shift due to them being sick.. He was reluctant to do so due not feeling confident in his ability to dance but he agreed to do it, thinking it’d help him.

And so, Carlos found his passion for dancing after his performance was well received.

One night lead to Carlos’ life changing in the best way ever. Whilst heading home from work, a young lizard attempted to pick his pocket and Carlos caught him in the act and chased him to an alleyway.

When he caught the young lizard, he paused and took note of the lizard’s appearance....he was homeless....just like Ollie was. After introducing themselves to each other and hearing AJ’s story, Carlos decided to take him in. 

He didn’t want someone living on the streets, not if he could do something about it...maybe this was his attempt at helping the guilt he still felt to this day over Ollie’s death.

[darlingultra]

Comfort Couch

Universe: BnHA

Muse: Red Riot / Eijiro Kirishima

Warnings: Lots of softness, slight angst

Friday nights were always your favorites.

Why?

Because those were the times that your lovely boyfriend would spend the night cuddling into you as the both of you shared snacks and watched cheesy action movies. Sure, it sounds simple and boring to lay around and be a couch potato all night, but it meant something different to you and Kirishima.

Nights like those were what the both of you looked forward to after a long and grueling week of hero work; due to its unpredictable nature, you and Ei’s schedules were at odds more often than not. Your quirk was more useful when the moon was out, so most of your patrols took place during the later hours of the night. Even now as you stretch out on your living room couch cradling a bag of half-eaten chips, your body felt light and full of energy. 

Man I can’t wait until Ei gets home...

Kirishima also happened to be one of the top heroes, which made his job more demanding. Fan meetings, interviews, hero promotions; he liked to do it all. Looking up to Crimson Riot changed his life for the better, and he wanted to be that kind of role model for someone else. He was very passionate about his job and inspiring people, and you made sure to support him every step of the way. 

But...

You couldn’t help but to worry sometimes. Eijiro was the strongest man you knew, but on nights like this, that deep dark fear in your heart ran rampant with every passing minute.

What if he left, and….never came back?

As if to shock you from your fears, the nightly news started with a story that had just seemed to break.

“—The infamous villain Shatterback was finally apprehended tonight in an all out battle against Pro-Heroes Fatgum, Suneater and Red Riot—“

Your heart skipped a beat the moment his name was said. Trembling fingers fiddled against the remote, desperately trying to increase the clarity of the newscaster’s voice with the TV’s volume. 

Shaky camera footage taken a little ways away from the action played on the screen, a familiar shock of red hair flashed across the screen before it collided with a menacing-looking man. The man staggered, but remained strong and steady, looking almost smugly at the camera. His arm shifted quickly, and the redhead shot across the screen, bouncing off of a car with the screeching of tires and an audible thud. 

Your eyes were glued to the screen, silently pleading for him to move. 

The sounds of a whip echoed off screen, sending the lens after the noise. Suneater had the villain’s arms bound with his infamous tentacles, and Fatgum slammed the villain with a heavy gut punch as his eyes darted quickly off screen in Eijiro’s direction. The villain crumbled to his knees as he heaved for air, the smug look faltering for just a fraction of a second. Fatgum’s attention darted off screen once again, a bit frantic this time as he slapped heavy cuffs onto the villain.

Ei, please…

The cameraman cut back to where Eijiro had landed, his body still unmoving as he lay on the floor. “—Riot remained in this state, and was sent to the hospital immediately after Shatterback was captured. Next up on the eleven o’clock news--”

The tv went silent. You couldn’t hear it over the sound of your nervous heartbeat thrumming in your ears, and the anxious thoughts running wild in your brain.

What if Kiri’s really hurt? What if he can’t do hero work anymore? What if…

What if—

You were so caught up in your internalized fears, that you didn’t hear the door to your apartment click and slide open. A heavy sigh disperses into the air as tired feet shuffle to the couch.

What if he—

The couch shifts, and you feel something warm press against your cheek as strong arms squeeze quickly around your torso.

“I’m home, pebble!”

Your troublesome thoughts shatter immediately at the comforting tone of his voice as relieved tears prick in the corners of your eyes. His toothy grin changes into a comforting half-smile as he quickly pulls you into his embrace, shielding you from the TV as he turns it off.

“Pebble, I’m right here.” his arms tighten around you, as he rests his chin on your head. “I hardened just before I hit the car. He knocked me out for a bit, but the doctor said it wasn’t serious. You know your big Boulder can’t be knocked down so easily!” 

And then he sweeps you into his arms, sauntering towards the bathroom. “I think we should wash off all of the stress we’ve been through today. And then afterwards, we can do what we usually do on Friday nights. Deal, baby shark?”

“Sounds like a plan to me, babe.”

____________________

After a luxurious bath and a silly round of snack hoarding, the two of you find yourselves in your favorite place on Friday nights; with Ei holding you from behind as you both lounged on the couch. You popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth and then held one behind you, offering Ei a piece. He accepted it teasingly, a giggle escaping his mouth as his teeth grazing against your thumb and index finger. You jump back in surprise, shooting him a glare. The hand resting on your waist tip-toes up your figure, tilting your face towards him as he steals a quick kiss.

“I love you, you know that right? And—Wow, he didn’t even try to dodge that bullet!” He looks at the tv incredulously.

“Babe...we watched him put a bulletproof vest on earlier. Do you not remember that preparation montage?”

“Aww hush,” he mumbles, silencing you with a quick kiss. “I was too busy watching you laugh at it.”

You sigh and turn around, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. Both of his hands come around you, holding you tighter against him. His heartbeat thrums in his chest, quickening ever so slightly.

“I love you too, Kiri.”

[ikeromantic]

7 Deadly Dates

Dates in the Devildom with each of the brothers! Approx. 1500 words. Fluff and spice, a little NSFW at points.

The Netflix and Chill:

Let’s face it, Belphie is a netflix and chill kind of demon. He texts you to come up to his room, and when you arrive, he’s got pillows scattered all over the floor. Different sizes, shapes, and colors. When you look confused, he shakes his head. “It’s a pillow-testing date. How am I supposed to know which one is the most comfortable if we don’t try them all out?” His mock annoyance ends the moment you awkwardly lay your head on one of the pillows to check it for him. It's amazingly comfortable. All of them are. You close your eyes to just enjoy the softness but before you can really relax, Belphie plops down beside you, resting his head inches from your face. You open your eyes to see him studying you. A part of you thinks you ought to move, try out a different pillow or something. But your body feels pleasantly heavy and warm, and there is something so gentle in his normally disinterested gaze. You want to stay where you are and savor the moment. “Do you like it?” His breath smells like peppermint and lavender. It tickles your cheek. He smiles. “Should we try out the other pillows,” you ask after your heart calms down again. “Let’s stay like this awhile longer,” he tells you, and snuggles closer.

The Buffet:

Beel asks you to meet him in town. The word ‘date’ never crosses his lips in making plans with you, but the way he keeps putting an arm around your shoulders - your waist - holding your hand - are way more than just brotherly affection. When he begins the tour of Devildom restaurants, cafes, and confectionaries, you think you know what you’re in for. It still surprises you when Beel offers you a spoonful of Madame Scream’s seasonal parfait. He blushes at the way you close your lips over the spoon and shivers when you lick a bit of cream off your fingertip. So you feel pretty in control of the flirting on this not-date-date. Right up until he takes you home. You expect a goodnight kiss, something sweet from the brother that’s as close to an angel as a devil gets. Instead, he pushes you against the wall, lips and teeth on your neck. Your cry of pleasure and surprise urge him on. He unwraps you faster than a human world cheeseburger. You didn’t realize clothes could tear like paper. You also didn’t realize the Avatar of Gluttony could be so hungry for something other than food. 

The Spa Day:

Asmodeus invites you for a spa day. You fully expect this means getting a facial, mani-pedi, maybe a massage. What you don’t expect is getting this treatment from the Avatar of Lust himself. He hands you a robe when you show up, a thin bit of barely opaque silk that hangs to your midthigh. Asmo is already wearing one and damn . . . it doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. You find yourself blushing. He starts the treatment with your hands. He smooths the tension from your palm and fingers, and sends little streaks of pleasure through your body. That’s just the appetizer. He gently applies cleansers and a moisture mask to your face, murmuring how beautiful you are, how soft your skin. When he lays you down for a massage, you’re pretty sure it’s time to die from pure bliss. The feel of him peeling the robe off your back. He straddles you. It’s impossible not to notice how excited he is to be so close. The cool air and his warm touch, the way his hips rock against you as he moves. Asmo rubs little circles in your skin, starting at the top of your spine, slowly moving out and down. The lightest brush of fingertips against the side of your chest is like fire. By the time he makes it to your ass and thighs, you feel like you’ve melted and at the same time, you’re trembling with desire. Just the way he wanted you.

The Cat Walk:

Satan asks you out for an evening stroll and maybe a coffee. You meet him in front of the House of Lamentation and he hands you a paper bag. You open it and find cat treats. He chuckles and tells you it’s not for you. Honestly, you’re a little disappointed at first, but he holds your hand as he takes you around the Devildom and tells you stories about all the places you walk past. He stops in alleyways and little parks along the way. In each spot, he has you open the bag and hold out a handful of the kibble inside. When the cats come up to eat some, he introduces you to each of them. The cats are adorable. When the treats run out, he takes you to a coffee shop that has a closed sign up, but when he knocks, the owner opens it just for the two of you. He serves you coffee and pastries, and tells Satan to lock up when you get ready to leave, since he’s headed home. Alone now, you sit together on a plush little couch, legs touching. He smiles when he sees your faint blush, and pulls you into his lap. You try to protest, but he nuzzles your neck and nips you. “What if someone sees,” you ask, gesturing to the window. “What if they do?” You don’t have an answer to that, and honestly don’t care after a few more of those nips and kisses.  

The Cosplay Karaoke:

Leviathan doesn’t ask you on a date - date’s are for normies. But he does ask you if you want to hang out and watch every live performance of Sucre Frenzy from last year. When you get there, you find out he didn’t mean watch, exactly. He meant dress up and sing along. He hands you a costume to change into. Levi turns around so you can have some privacy to change, but you see him sneaking glances over his shoulder, and wiping at a lowkey nosebleed. He starts to teach you the moves, first demonstrating, and then you repeat. Levi adjusts your arm, and the tilt of your hip, the position of your foot, and the height of your chin. His hands are cool against your skin, and you are hyperaware of how close he is. He freezes mid sentence, his thumb under your chin, fingers resting on your cheek. “S-s-sorry,” he stammers, blushing from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears. Teasing, you lean forward and brush the lightest of kisses across his lips. “Teach me, senpai,” you whisper. And he does. Like a hentai flashflood, his tentacles are all over you, his lips on yours, eyes shut tight because he can’t honestly believe it’s really happening.

The Shopping Trip:

Mammon surprises you with a day shopping in the Devildom’s fashion district. The label he models for offered him free clothes as part of his last photo shoot payment, and he wants to pick out something for you. It’s very sweet, coming from the Avatar of Greed. You look at several really nice dresses but after trying several on, Mammon says they’re all boring. Then you look at some shirts, but he doesn’t like them either. Finally, tired of picking things, you tell Mammon to choose something for you. Something he likes, since he didn’t like any of the clothes you tried so far. He brings you a dainty pink corset and the tiniest pair of matching silk boy shorts. You look at them and back at him. “Seriously?” He blushes and rubs a hand through his hair. “I wanted ta pick something I’d enjoy taking off of ya,” he mumbles. The corset and panties come home with you. After all, how can you say no to that?

The JetSet:

Lucifer is not at all shy about asking you on a date. He shows up after class with a red rose in hand and invites you out. When you agree, he tells you he already sent clothes to your room, and he’ll meet you in an hour in the front hall. The dress he picked is a tailored little black dress, simple, elegant, and a perfect fit, with matching shoes and a tiny, ruby red handbag. When you meet him, he looks you over with a satisfied smile. “I feel like your doll,” you half-heartedly complain. He chuckles as he takes out a choker, hung with a ruby the size of your thumb. He puts it on you, leaving a little kiss above the clasp at the back of your neck. “My perfect doll.” The evening starts at an exclusive wine bar you didn’t even know existed. Followed by dinner in the reserved section of Ristorante Six. Then he takes you to a piano concerto where the haunting melodies summon actual ghosts. You stay safe, wrapped in his arms, through the performance. When it ends, he doesn’t let you go. He carries you home, to his room. “Luci? Am I sleeping here tonight?” He grins at you wickedly. “I find that I’m not ready to let you go just yet.” He strips you of everything but the choker, enjoying the way you squirm at the slightest touch of his fingers. He tells you to hold still, then kisses your ticklish spots. When you move, because of course you do, he laughs and puts you over his knee for punishment. The light sting of a slap on your ass, followed by a kiss. You tell him it doesn’t make you want to be very obedient. The fire in his gaze tells you he thought you might say that. The date takes you a few days to recover from, but you can’t wait til the next one.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty: practice what you preach

Sam awoke to the feeling of Alex's little body nestled up right next to her. At some point, over the course of the night, she inched closer to him and he had put his arm around her once again. She slid her foot back towards that edge of the bed only feel to it was icy cold from the nightfall. Indeed, the entire house was cold from the night and the induction of the Bay Area fog outside.

Even with the daybreak, the Bay Area was still dark and cold from the dead of winter. She cuddled closer to him like they did in the back seat of the car: the sole difference was that a full inch of rain had fallen all over San Francisco overnight rather than something over a foot of snow. But she shivered regardless of the covers over her body.

There was a loud clank at the front of the house, followed by a pair of soft voices.

Alex groaned in his throat at the sound and Sam opened her eyes. His face remained right before her own: the tip of that aquiline nose about an inch from her cheekbone. Those sharp eyebrows as smooth as stone, and that skin as pale and smooth as the very snows that chased them away from Lake Tahoe. Even though he lay flat on his back, he had rolled his head over the top of the pillow and thus that little tuft of gray hung right above her eyes. For a moment there, upon her opening her eyes, she swore that he was a small boy once again, especially given they were in his old bedroom and they lay underneath all of those old posters from when he was a kid and in high school.

A part of her wanted to stroke his face, just to feel that smooth delicate skin and really find out if it was that smooth and soft as it looked. But she decided not to as he stirred a bit and rolled his head back a bit so she could only see the side of his face. She kept her eye on his chin and the delicate tight skin underneath; followed by the curvature of his lips, and then she fixated on his prominent nose and his high features, as stark and aged as stone in spite of his youth.

Young and old at the same time.

She nibbled on her bottom lip as he fetched up a sigh and held still right there next to her. She had kept her hand on something soft. It wasn't his hipbone.

“Alex!” Arlene called from the front of the house. “Alex! Samantha!”

Sam dared not move her hand lest he wake up to it instead of his mother's voice.

“Hey, kids!” Jerry followed up. Alex stirred again but he never awoke. Sam kept her lips pursed together, and she wondered if a certain small movement of her hand would do anything more for him.

“Breakfast is ready!” Arlene called out once again.

Once she had said that, Sam could feel the hunger within her as it gnawed away at the inside of her stomach. She wanted to move her hand but then again Alex still hadn't moved a single muscle. She held onto something soft and warm and she had no clue if it was actually his body or something else.

“Alexander Nathan Skolnick!” Arlene spat.

And he popped his eyes open at that, and he stared straight up above to the ceiling. Sam never moved a muscle.

“Is that your hand,” he asked her in a flat tone of voice.

“I don't even know where my hand is,” she confessed.

“Are you guys awake?” Arlene followed up.

“Yes, Ma!” Alex shouted which in turn made Sam grimace a bit. “Sorry,” he told her in a low voice. “Anyways, that better be your hand.”

“It's on your body, I know that much.”

He rolled his head over the top of the pillow again, that time with squinted eyes.

“Ma?” Arlene laughed.

“Ma and Pa,” Jerry called out, which in turn made Alex roll his eyes, but Sam giggled at them. She moved her hand and she realized that she had grabbed a handful of blanket, much to their confusion.

“What the hell was on me, then?” Alex asked her as she rolled out of bed.

“My arm, maybe?”

“Could be. But I could've sworn that it was your hand, though.” He followed her out of bed and, even though she put her jeans back on, he kept his shirt off as he walked with her into the front of the house, much to Arlene's shock as she brought over the plates of fresh matzo and sausage patties.

“Alex! What're ya doin'? Put your shirt on!”

“He feels better without a shirt, Mrs. Skolnick,” Sam told her as she took her seat next to Jerry at the kitchen table.

“I'm getting cold just looking at him, though,” Arlene insisted as she handed Sam a cup of coffee. “How do you like your coffee, by the way?”

“A little bit of cream,” she replied.

“Always start out with cream.” She shook her head with a smile but then she looked on at Alex with a slight sneer on her face.

“It's fine, Mom, I promise,” Alex pointed out as he ran his hands down his forearms. His pale skin seemed to glow under the kitchen lights as if made entirely of snow; once she took her spot across from him, he hunched his shoulders a bit. Indeed, it was rather cold in the house and the heater seemed to have a bit of trouble in picking up from underneath the metallic vent on the floor next to Jerry. His jet black hair flowed over his shoulders like little tentacles; his nipples tightened and goose pimples crossed over the skin on his waist. He was cold but Sam was sure that he wanted to be without a shirt, much like she wanted to be without a bra until they went out again.

“Alex—baby—go put a shirt on,” Arlene encouraged him.

“Go brush your hair, too, son,” Jerry told him, and Alex let out a sigh and then he stood up and ducked out of the kitchen.

“I also promised my mom I'd call her when I got here,” Sam said once he left.

“Oh, yes, definitely do that!” Arlene told her. “Phone's right over there over the stove, bubbeleh.”

Sam rounded the table and she stepped over to the little black telephone there on the wall next to the stove. She dialed her mother's number and she held the receiver to her ear. One ring, two rings—

“Hello, hello?” Esmé answered in a broken voice.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Oh! Sam! Thank heaven! I was just starting to get worried about you and Alex because you hadn't called me.”

“We got snowed in up at Tahoe the night before last,” she explained, “like we got to Carson City and then I took him up to the southern edge of the lake and it started snowing. It was nighttime by then, too, so we just buttoned up for the night and waited for the snow to stop. When it did, we went up to Incline Village for breakfast and now we're at his parents' house in Berkeley. Spent the night here last night.”

“Oh, good! Thank heaven. What matters is you kids are safe and both are in one piece. Also, I got a letter from Joey believe it or not. Just last night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he brought it over to me, like he must've seen me from across the room—we were in the grocery store in Long Beach.”

“Greg brought it to you,” she said aloud.

“Yeah—and Joey said he's going to meet you down at the harbor when you get down here again, whenever that may be.”

“I dunno, to be honest with you, Mom, because I have no idea what Alex and his parents are going to do.”

“Oh, no, wait, it says he's going to meet you there later today.”

“Today?”

“Yeah. No idea what time exactly, but he did say the day after New Year's, though.”

Sam fetched up a sigh. On one hand, she wanted Joey to have at least called her about it. But then again, he didn't know where she had gone off to and he didn't know where Alex and his parents lived there in Berkeley, either.

She bode her mother farewell for the time being, and she returned to Jerry and Arlene there at the table.

“My mom told me that I have a little something waiting for me down in Long Beach,” she told them, “which means I have to be down there today.”

“Aw, you're leaving us, bubbeleh?” Arlene looked hurt by that.

“I'm afraid so. And what does that mean, too?”

“What, 'bubbeleh'?”

“'Little doll', right?” Alex joined in from behind them; Sam thought about Belinda and if she and Marla had gone back home at that moment.

“Yeah! I used to call him that when he was little, because he was just this little doll of a little boy.”

Alex took his seat right next to Sam, now wrapped up in a long black shirt with a white square on his chest: it looked as though he had attempted to brush his hair but he never went further than his bangs, which started to grow out rather long: the bottoms brushed upon that sharp brow to where the longest tips began to obscure his eyes and make them appear even deeper than before.

“Have you heard of Run DMC?” he asked her as he gestured to his chest.

“I have now,” she told him.

“Oh, man! You've got so much to learn, Samantha.”

“So much to learn and so much to give, too,” Jerry followed up to that.

“Give it all to our boy over here,” Arlene chimed in with a hearty little chuckle.

“Oy vey,” Alex muttered as he took another bite of fresh matzo ball.

Sam stayed there and relished her cup of coffee and her spot at the table between Jerry and Alex. But she knew that she would have to pick up her things again and head on over to the airport, and by Alex's direction no less.

By around ten o'clock in the morning, and a few holes had broken through on the fog bank over the Bay Area, Alex changed back into a fresh pair of jeans and Sam had put her bra back on, albeit in the bathroom. Even from the other side of the house, she caught the sound of Alex's voice in the kitchen. Even with his parents, he still stood out like a sore thumb and he had the big booming voice to boot on top of it. Indeed, even when he stood next to his band mates, he seemed to dwarf them, especially Chuck who loomed up close to his height.

But then she thought about Joey and the fact that he had confessed to her even through a drunken stupor.

She wondered what he had in store for her as she headed out of the bathroom and made her way back to Alex's room for her purse, and then she walked back up the hall, towards the front foyer for her shoes and her jacket. Alex glanced over at her.

“Oh, there she is,” he said in a low voice, and he turned to front door for the same things as well. He took his seat next to her there on that little velvet bench and they laced up together. He put on his jacket and he reached into his pocket for the car keys.

“Come back any time, bubbeleh,” Arlene told her, and she put her arms around her.

“I'm sure I will!” Sam declared with a big bold laugh.

“Be safe and give your mother a hug for us,” Jerry added as he embraced her as well.

“I shall, Mr. Skolnick,” she promised; he put his arm around Alex at the same time.

“Li'l group hug!” he chuckled. “I'll be back.”

“You behave,” Arlene advised him in a low voice, and he made a soft little whimper at that.

Alex led Sam back outside to the car and that time, he climbed in behind the wheel.

“I really do like your parents, Alex,” she told him once they got rolling.

“I just—I feel like they were putting me on the spot the whole time,” he confessed.

“In your defense, they kinda were,” she said, “like especially when we were in the back room and you were showing me that riff, and you couldn't finish it.”

“Yeah, and I don't like being interrupted, either,” he added.

“I still like them, though. I like your dad, especially. I mean, he told me to come to him for anything school related. I like that.”

“Thank you for that,” he told her. “When I was growing up, a lot of people didn't, because they're New Yorkers and they're scary smart collegiate professors and everybody thought their raising my brother and me like that screwed us up.”

“Hey, at least they aren't from a strict religion,” she pointed out, which in turn made him chuckle.

“No, they aren't! I'd rather they be fully educated anyways.” He paused for a moment as they pulled up to a stoplight.

“By the way, are you thinking of continuing on with school? 'Cause—it looks like you didn't finish.”

“I didn't, no.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don't really know, if I'm honest with you, Alex.”

The light turned green and they fell back into silence all the way over to the airport, all for the next flight out to Los Angeles. A quick one way ticket and the two of them walked together to the gate, both of them as silent as ever. It would be another minute before the gate opened and thus Sam turned to him and the gentle look on his face, the most gentle she had seen him.

He put his arms around her and held her close to his slender body. Still very soft from the two nights together.

“Give your mom a hug for me,” he told her in a hushed voice.

“Gladly,” she vowed to him. More people congregated behind them in anticipation of the flight.

“Also,” he added, “um—look for our last name in your mom's mailbox around the—middle of the month, give or take.”

“Oh?”

He showed her a shy, small smile in response to that. Sam stood still before him, slightly befuddled, but then she realized what he was telling her.

“I'll be on the lookout,” she promised him, and she wondered what it was exactly that Joey had in store for her.

“You better get going,” he encouraged her in a low voice, and she turned her attention to the gate behind her. Everyone behind them proceeded to board the plane.

“February, you said?” she asked him.

“Right on the first! Please join us.”

“I'll see you soon,” she told him.

“You, too,” he said. “Safe travels.” For a second, she swore that he winked at her. But then she picked up her things and headed over to the gate, and she boarded the plane with everyone else. She peered over her shoulder at the sight of him there with his hands tucked in his jeans pockets and the somber look on his face. The tuft of gray hair stood high over the right side of his brow like a little icicle. Those eyes locked onto her one last time before she turned away and headed down the terminal corridor; she then boarded onto the plane in silence.

And that whole entire time she never came across her father anywhere in the Bay Area: yet another thing she had to address to her mother once she was back down south.

She took that flight headed for Los Angeles once more, and soon thereafter she would board the boat down to Santa Catalina Island. She was bound to return to New York at one point regardless of anything else simply to visit Joey in upstate and to lay on her couch once again.

Over the course of that ninety minute flight, she thought about Alex's behavior over the course of their entire trip. It all worked out so perfectly with them even when she intended on nothing more than to improvise on it all. That was it right there: her first window into Alex and her confirmation on what Louie had said to her on the ride down the California coast. He had shown a new side to him, but she swore that she had a long way to go with him.

Add to this, she had a long way to go with Joey as well. She gazed out the window to the snow covered mountain tops down below: on the other side was the vast stretch of desert that seemed to go on out East for eternity. She and Alex had rode up that desert together all alone: on the other side of the plane, even though she couldn't see it from her seat, the Coastal Range and the coastline itself loomed down below the plane.

An hour later, and she landed just outside of Long Beach, where Joey himself awaited her there outside of the gate. His brown eyes appeared a bit lazier than usual but he showed her that familiar lopsided grin once she rounded the corner.

She hurried up to him with her arms wide open.

They embraced each other and he planted his lips onto hers.

“God, I missed you,” he confessed to her.

“Where's Krista?” she asked him in a near whisper.

“She went back home to Kansas City. I think she got the message.” He flashed her a wink at that.

And with nothing more to add, he led her out of the airport and back over to the docks for the next large boat over to Catalina. It was a cold, blustery day there in Long Beach, such that he lingered closer to her as they awaited their ride: the gray waters out before them chopped and shortened up with the cold winter winds around them.

She could feel his fingers right on the seat of her pants, and she showed him a mischievous smile as a result.

Indeed, once they boarded the boat, he kept one hand on her knee the whole twenty two miles. At one point, he slid his hand up the inside of her thigh, and she playfully slapped the back of his hand at the feeling. He showed her another lopsided grin at that.

Within time, the harbor outside of Avalon emerged in their view: all the usual little boats and yachts around the place had docked up for the New Year and also for the storm that had passed through. Esmé awaited them at the far end of the dock, wrapped up in a little sweater and with her cat eye glasses perched upon the bridge of her nose all the while.

“There are my babies,” she declared once they came within earshot; she embraced Sam so tight that she swore that she would cut off her circulation. Joey let Sam take the front seat and they drove back to the house.

Once they had made their way inside, Esmé continued on back to her bedroom for something, but that left Sam and Joey some time alone together.

“Alone at last,” he said as she guided him into her bedroom. She nudged the door shut, but she left it ajar a bit by a sliver the width of her pink nail.

“So how was your road trip?” he asked her once he peeled off his jacket, followed by his shirt. He tossed both on the chair in the corner of the room, and then he lunged for the bed.

“Exciting and quite the adventure,” she told him as she took off her jacket and her shirt. She unhooked her bra and left it on the floor next to her feet.

“An adventure like what we're about to have?” he asked her in a husky voice; she climbed up next to him but she never moved any closer to him. There had to be something here, something more just to get her going.

“Joey, we're in my bed,” she whispered to him.

“So? Let's get it on, Sam I am. I should tell you—State of Euphoria went gold.”

“Oh—Oh, Joey. Mister Lead Singer.”

She set one hand on the side of her and then she lowered herself down on top of him, and she placed her lips onto his dark ones. As smooth and silken as molten chocolate still: he tasted like peppermint and she knew that he had brushed his teeth just prior to her landing. A little tip of his tongue onto her own and she wondered where they would go from there. She had already put her lips onto his length when in England, but there was something more here. Something a little more homely.

“Sam?” Esmé called from the front of the house, which in turn brought the two of them to a complete standstill.

“Yes?” Sam replied back to her.

“Could you come in here for a second?”

She fetched up a sigh and she climbed off of Joey. With a bit of haste, she put her bra and her shirt back on over her body, and she headed into the kitchen to see what was the matter. Esmé struggled to remove the cork from a brand new bottle of sparkling cider, and thus Sam decided to help her. Though it was dry, she hoped that Joey wouldn't smell it from the next room, but at that point, her mother had poured her a glass of that cider and offered her a slice of pie with her lunch.

She thought of Alex all the while and since she knew that she hadn't eaten since that morning, she took the glass and the pie and took her seat there at the bar. Soon, Joey joined them and he, too, received a plate of pie and some cider himself.

“My little girl's actually going to be twenty four in a few days time,” Esmé remarked with a wistful tone to her voice.

The same age as Cliff, and just like with Cliff, she, too, hadn't been touched between the legs herself either. All the little glances and glimpses from Joey made her wonder if they would go any further than that over the course of the next few weeks.

But they never did: given the extent of Anthrax's tour, Joey returned back home to New York the next morning after he had spent the night with them. Much like Alex, he took to the comfy couch overnight, and Sam and Esmé saw him off on the next flight out to Anthrax's next stop in Houston.

Sam's twenty fourth birthday in the middle of the month came with the next round of winter's rain as it lasted the full week, from Martin Luther King, Jr. Day all the way to that weekend when the country watched the inauguration of Bush. The whole entire time she watched it on the little television in the guest room, she thought of Alex and the package that he and his parents had sent her: a black fedora with a white ribbon around the base of the crown and a little black and red feather on one side. Alongside it was a handmade card from them, pieced together with colorful cardstock and some ribbon. On the inside, in neat penmanship and bright red sparkling ink, it read:

“Happy birthday, Samantha! Love, Jerry, Arlene, and Alex.”

She smiled at their names as she placed the hat upon her head, and she wondered if Joey was willing to give her something for her day as well, especially if Alex's words about gifts were anything to go by.

Indeed, she wore that hat on the flight back up to San Francisco on the first, much to the pleasure of the flight agents all around the airport and even a couple of the stewardesses on the plane. Alex awaited her at the gate, albeit with a grin on his face.

“Had a feeling that hat'd be a good fit for you,” he told her once she gave him a hello hug.

“You picked this out?” she asked him.

“Nah, my mom did. She was like, 'I haven't even met her yet and yet I feel this hat would fit her wonderfully!' and then you met her and after you left, she was like 'yes, definitely send that hat to her, baby.'” She chuckled at that. “Anyways, come with me.”

Alex led her out of the airport into the cold San Francisco Bay fog outside, and ultimately to his car. They drove over to that studio that he had shown her on New Year's Day, and they were greeted by an excited Louie wrapped up in a leather jacket right there on the front doorstep.

“Also, I should tell you that I finally figured it out!” Alex proclaimed with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” He unbuckled his seat belt, but he didn't climb out as of yet. “Literally right after you left, my dad was playing a record from a man named Al Di Meola and I heard it from my room, and it was like a lightning bolt. I ran across the hall and I started playing it on this guitar and then I was like 'yes!' So I called up Eric and showed it to him and he was like 'right on! Let's go with that!'”

They climbed out together and Louie hurried over to her with his arms wide open.

“I feel like I haven't seen you in a million years,” he declared right into her ear.

“It's only been a few weeks, Lou,” she told him.

But then he led the two of them into the studio, with that lush shag carpet on the floor and the bright high ceiling overhead. To the right stood the actual sound room itself, where Greg and Eric had already walked into with their guitars in hand. They rounded the corner only to find Chuck speaking with a familiar bob of black hair in the desk chair before him.

“Hey, Zelda!” Sam greeted her.

“Hey, hey! I was wonderin' when you'd get here!” Zelda clambered to her feet and threw her arms around Sam. “Happy belated birthday, by the way. Eric reminded me.”

“Thank you so much! And happy belated to Louie Louie over here, too.”

“Ha!” Louie belted out as he took off his jacket and hung it on the hook next to them; right underneath his jacket was a miniature fridge.

“The girls and I have a gift for ya, too,” Zelda continued, “but it's not like this hat or anything these boys have given you. We're making another album and I already have the perfect name for it, too.”

“What's that?”

“Captain Shelley's Gallery. After you and your artistry.”

“Oh, Zelda!” Sam threw her arms around her once more.

“And we got a gift for you, too,” Chuck joined in, “I'm sure Alex gave you a hint to it on the way over, too.”

“He did!” Sam declared.

“You girls are standing in for Mr. Producer right now,” Alex himself said as he raised a finger. He took off his jacket and he strode into the sound room as if he owned it himself. Sam and Zelda watched him walk over to his guitar, propped up on a metallic stand; he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder, and waved his black hair about a bit. That tuft of gray was obvious at that point.

Louie took his seat behind the drum kit and Chuck lingered over to the side.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Zelda announced through the microphone, “unleash hell.”

Eric and Alex both started it out with a big grinding introduction.

Louie's kick drum pounded through the wall right before her. Sam looked over at Zelda, who in turn flashed her a grin and nodded at her.

That riff, that groovy riff; it coaxed a shake from her hips a bit. In junction with Louie's drum beats, which felt akin to the hammer of a black smith, and it only added to the feeling. Zelda nodded her head along with it.

Sam thought about the night on Anthrax's tour wherein Alex had covered that Soundgarden song. His leads here wandered around and spiraled tightly into coils like that song straight out of Seattle.

Eric and Greg twinned one another: the latter of which played his bass such that it resembled to thunder. And then Chuck's vocals seared through that microphone's head.

Almost four years of straight touring and making music had made these boys tight and on point each and every time the next time over.

It had that hooky chorus, “so practice what you preach!” a phrase which Sam knew she would cling to for a thousand years.

He repeated it and Alex, Eric, and Greg both joined in on back up.

“Groovy, hard, and fast, and it gets stuck in your head, too!” Zelda exclaimed.

“Yeah, it does,” Sam said, “and I almost wanna like dance to it, too.”

At one point, Alex took a step forward with his little red guitar pressed to his body and he proceeded on his solo. Sam and Zelda watched him in complete awe as it felt as though he painted his first real masterpiece upon the proverbial canvas. Even through the sound proof door, he was able to make the floor shake with his bending of those strings.

This was not the hole in the wall and this was not the first time Sam watched Anthrax.

This was beyond that.

Eric gave his inky black hair a toss back as he joined in with Alex again for a few more seconds. Louie tapped on the kick drum a bit and Alex improvised along with him.

“He's—He's unreal,” Sam said to Zelda.

“Who, Alex?”

“Yeah. Well, Louie is, too, but Alex is from somewhere else.”

“He's a true artist,” Zelda said, “kind of like how you are.”

Sam stayed silent at that. She didn't really believe that was on the level of true artistry as of yet, but she knew it still resided within her. She knew that her own masterpiece, her own “Practice What You Preach”, stayed within her for the time being.

They jammed out some more songs, all the way to the end of the afternoon, to which Chuck sang himself hoarse and Louie had finally broken out a sweat. Chuck himself walked over to the door and unlocked it for them, and Sam and Zelda met up with him there.

“Oh my god!” he yelped in a broken voice.

“Dude, that first song is going to be huge,” Sam told him.

“Dude! Don't call me 'dude'. Anyways, I think you're gonna be right, li'l Sammich.” He turned to Zelda. “Care for a drink?”

“Please!” Zelda doubled back to the hooks on the wall and the miniature fridge on the floor there. She took out a pair of beer bottles, one for herself and one for Chuck; once she handed the one to him, she turned to Sam.

“Care for one?”

“Let's share one,” Sam told her, which made the boys laugh out loud. Chuck doubled back into the room and opened the bottle.

“Drink up, Alejandro,” he commanded.

“Chuck—Chuck, no.”

“C'mon, a little sip of beer won't kill ya,” he coaxed him. Sam bowed into the doorway there and she watched Alex take a whiff from the bottle's mouth first before he took a sip. He shrugged his shoulders and handed it back to Chuck himself.

“Not bad,” he confessed, “rather have a glass.” The phone on the control panel rang right then and Zelda bowed away to answer it.

“You guys really are like Metallica's honor student kid brothers,” Sam told them with a little laugh, which in turn brought a laugh out of Chuck.

“Metallica's honor student kid brothers,” Louie echoed that, and he laughed himself.

“And I guess Anthrax showed up right behind us to put the 'kick me' sign on our backs,” Alex cracked with a gesture to his own back.

“Then Megadeth came to talk us into the ground during debate class,” Greg added.

“And Slayer showed up, just to give the five of us all a swift kick in the ass!” Chuck rounded out and the six of them laughed out loud at that.

Zelda cleared her throat right behind her.

“Hey—Hey, Miss Frankenstein!” she said right into Sam's ear, which in turn brought more laughter. “Your little monster is on the other end.”

Even though she had nothing to drink right then, she was already feeling giddy. Zelda handed her the phone, the receiver of which she brought over from the body itself. Sam lingered there in the doorway with it up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Sam?” She recognized that upstate accent.

“Oh, hi, Joey!” She smiled at the sound of his voice.

“Sam—Sam—you're—you're not gonna believe this,” he could hardly speak. The tremble in his voice made her stop right in her tracks. Indeed, he almost sounded sick.

“What happened?” she asked him, slightly concerned.

He fetched up a sigh, albeit one that shuddered a bit. He gasped and whimpered the lightest of whimpers and she wondered what was going on with him. Louie said something and Greg burst out laughing right then; thus, she cupped a hand over her ear so she could hear him.

“Joey,” she started in a low voice, “—what happened?”

He sighed again.

“I got fired,” he said in a small voice.

“What,” she stammered, “what! What the—fuck, what do you mean you got fired?”

Someone shushed the people in the rest of the room, and the room fell silent behind her.

“I got fired,” he repeated, and he brought his voice to a near whisper. “I just got off the phone with Charlie. He said—they all got into a meeting together and just decided to rid of me. If it's any fairness to him, though, I—I could tell he had a hard time doing it.”

She brought a hand to her mouth to keep herself from crying herself or from vomiting. He gasped again and she could tell that he was crying.

“Oh,” she breathed into the mouthpiece, “oh my god, Joey, I'm so sorry.”

“I'm just,” he stammered, “—I'm just—gonna—go to sleep now.”

“Oh my god, Joey. Sit tight, I'll be right there.” She hurried back to the sound board to the phone's body.

“Sam?” he stopped her in a broken voice.

“Yes?”

“I love you,” he declared.

“I love you, too.” She hung up right there, and she closed her eyes and let out a low whistle, and then she returned to the room, and Zelda and Testament, all of whom looked on at her, stunned.

“What happened?” Chuck asked her, concerned.

“Joey got fired,” she told him in a soft voice, and Alex gaped at her. Chuck raised his eyebrows at that, flabbergasted.

“What,” Louie flatly said.

“When did this happen?” Eric asked her.

“I guess just now? He said he just got off the phone with Charlie—which tells me he's home now—and they all had a meeting without him, and they decided to get rid of him.” Sam paused for a moment. “He also said that Charlie had a hard time telling him about it, too.”

Alex and Chuck looked on at one another with stunned looks on their faces.

“What the fuck,” was all Zelda could say.

“They were doing good, too!” Eric declared.

“They were doing excellent,” Sam continued. “Last month, he told me State of Euphoria went gold.”

“Already?” Alex raised his eyebrows at that.

“Yeah. So it just—that doesn't make any sense. And I promised him I'd be right there with him, which means I have to—I have to fly home to New York.”

“Well, it's five o'clock—we're done for the day,” Greg told her as he clutched his bass by the neck, “we'll take you to the airport.”

“I'll come with you,” Alex told her.

“Yeah, me, too,” Chuck added.

“No, guys, that's not necessary,” Sam told them off.

“Samantha, your boyfriend just got fired,” Alex pointed out, “he's going to need all the support he can get.”

“What he said,” Chuck added.

“I'll come, too,” Zelda joined in, “I'm going back home after this, anyways.”

Sam nodded her head and, once they had closed up shop for the day, Eric and Greg drove them all back to the airport. She had no idea as to what to say to Joey once they were back in upstate. But she knew that she would have a little talk with Scott and Charlie at some point.

Eric and Greg walked them throughout the airport and all the way to where the next red eye would take her, Chuck, Alex, and Zelda over to Syracuse.

“Are you guys going to be alright?” she asked them.

“Oh, yeah,” Eric assured her as he put his arms around her.

“I'll call you when we get there,” she promised him.

“Aw, thank you so much for that.” And he gave her another hug for that.

She would have to give all the hugs in the world from that point onward for Joey.

[kuronanox]

Hesitant - Ukitake Jushiro

(Your Name) and Ukitake first met when she graduated the academy top of her class. She  had happen to be put on a mission, it was a simple mission, the task was to eliminate hollows that were appearing in the forest near the rukongai district.

(Your Name) was about done with the last hollow and jogged to catch up with the rest of the team when she was then surrounded by a flock of hollows. Steadily she let out a kido to eliminate the ones behind her so she could find an opening to escape. With an opening appearing she lunges out the area but was pulled back by a hollows that had tentacles as it wrapped it around her body as she yelped in pain.

"Shit!" She cursed and tried to squeeze out but only to yell out in pain as the tentacles wrapped around her tighter.

Ukitake had gotten word from a few subordinates that the team who was in charge of the hollows around the rukongai district had got back but one of the girls was missing.

Kaien was already out in a meeting so it left Ukitake no choice but to go himself. "Don't worry I'll go." He told his squads members and rushed to the district. He found her body limped on the floor as the hollows were about to devour her.

"I can't believe I'm about to die like this... I'm so pathetic."

(Your Name) tightly shuts her eyes and was prepared for the worse but it was replaced by a warm body embracing her as she looked up to see her captain smiling down at her. She had been saved.

"Captain." She uttered out as Ukitake took her out of harms way and she watched as he cut down the hollows so easily, it almost made her embarrassed. After cleaning the mess up he carefully picked her up and carried them all the way to the 4th squad for medical attention.

"I-I'm okay." She stutters but he shakes his head. "You have internal bleeding in your body, if I was a second late you would be dead." He says to the smaller girl as she stares up at him.

(Your Name) didn't really know what the captain looked because he was always sick apparently, so she thought Kaien was the leader for squad 13 for the longest time. Never in her life she thought a man was so beautiful with his long locks of silver hair and gentle smile.

(Your Name) woke up in the infirmary with bandages all around her stomach and abdomen area. The nurse said parts of her ribs broke and some of her organs were getting crushed harshly. "Top of my class but still weak."

Lying down in silence a knock was at her door as she gently sits up and sees her Captain with a big smile on his face and sweets in his arms. (Your Name) tilts her head confused if he was here for her or someone else but she looked around to see no one else but her in the infirmary. "Captain?" She calls out as he happily pulls up a seat next to her.

"Ahh (Your Name) how are you feeling?" Ukitake begins to asks setting down the sweets in her lap as she looks down to see variety of chocolate and hard candy that looked tempting to eat but, she knew that the state she was in wouldn't allow her to consume such foods.

"I feel bruised up but resting makes it feel better." She honestly says.

"You were out for a week." He says to her as she noticed flowers placed on her stand. "Did Captain bring me flowers? I don't have any other close friends yet."

She was so embarrassed that she roughly opened up various candy trying to take the blush that was forming on her face away. "(Your Name) slow down the candy will be here." Ukitake says gently helping her open up the bags. She notice how soft his hands were as it lightly brushed against hers.

"I'm sorry Captain I'm just embarrassed." She admits as he chuckles.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, we all fall into trouble once."

"That's not what I'm talking about but if you say so Captain."

After another long week in the infirmary she was out and ready to work again. Stretching her body she smiles and embrace the sunlight. Ukitake visited her three more times after that. He was kind to her and it made her stomach filled with butterflies.

"Stop! He's like hella old and you're like really young." She says out loud as a gentle hand rested on her shoulder. "Who's old?" Ukitake teased from behind the girl as she jumps.

"C-Captain!" She blushes as he could only laugh because her expression were cute to him. "I heard you were getting discharged today so I came to walk you back."

Her eyes widen as she gives a warm smile and allows him to walk her back. "I'm giving you an month to rest, I know you are healed but that doesn't mean you should push your body to fast." Ukitake says in concern as she nods her head.

(Your Name) was slowly started to fall for the older Shinigami as time pasted by. Although there was moments she would rarely see him because of captain work or he was out due to sickness. She still would find the chance to talk to him once a while.

Of course Ukitake knew, he was alive for hundreds of years he could easily tell from the way she talked and her body language towards him. Luckily for her Ukitake also shared the same feelings but never got the courage to tell her just yet.

"I don't know she's really young, maybe she can find someone her age to make her happy, after all I'm just a sick old dude." Ukitake tells Kyoraku as the man in the hat sighs and pats him on the back.

"Ma, don't be so hard on yourself. This girl seems to really like you I'm jealous." He teased Ukitake as they enjoyed hot tea on a cold winter afternoon. "You were always popular with the lady, have our roles reversed?" He laughs as Kyoraku smirks.

"No I still am actually! But I think you should give it a chance. I mean who would wanna stick with a sick old dude?"

Ukitake lightly glares as Kyoraku laughs. "See, that's what I'm saying if she's willing to stay with you even if you are sick and older maybe you should give her a chance. It doesn't hurt to try. Plus I see the way you look at her. It's something I haven't seen before."

Ukitake sighs and looks up at the sky. "Maybe he is right."

It had been one of those good days for Ukitake his body was feeling light and he was energetic. It had been months since the conversation he had with Kyoraku played off but he wanted to take things slow. So he started to invite (Your Name) out for walks and to drink tea and once he took her star gazing.

She didn't know his feelings for her which made her frustrated as each day passed by.

"I don't know if he likes me but he's so nice, but Captain is always nice and kind to everyone. Ugh! This is frustrating!"

Casually she was trying to reach for book on one of the shelf but a taller hand had helped her reach for it as she felt the body heat from behind her.

"Is this what you are looking for?" Ukitake asks as she nods and takes the book from his hand. "Are you busy today?" She asks him as he shakes his head. "I secretly gave Kaien my papers today." He whispers to her as she laughs imagining Kaien trying to sort and figure everything out.

"Wait does that mean he made time to hang out with me?" She blushes and looks down to hide it but Ukitake can see clearly at it as he smiles down at her.

"(Your Name) I've been meaning to talk to you about something." He then says leading her to his office as she sat down on the couch comfortably. "Yes Captain?"

"My feelings for you are mutual." He begins to say as she sits quietly and hears him out. "What scares me if our age difference and my physical state I am in though. I really want whats best for you so I've been holding off on telling you how I feel."

(Your Name) eyes widen as she walks toward the older man and gives him a small hug as he hesitantly accepts and hugs her back.

"Captain is stupid, I don't care the age difference or if you are sick all the time. I like you because you were nice and kind to me and everyone else. You just make my day brighter and I wanna keep you by my side as long as I have you." She admits as Ukitake pulls her into a bigger embrace now.

She kisses his forehead.

"(Your Name) you will have me until the day I die and I will have you until we have to part." He says as they both smile towards each other.

"Don't be so humble, now I get to kiss you whenever I want!" She cheers getting him off the chair onto the couch and pushing him down. "Finally I can embrace you like this." (Your Name) says laying on him as Ukitake embraces her back with a smile.

[enigmatist17]

Did It Happen? (Sir Hammerlock x Wainwright Jakobs)

I FINISHED THE DLC AND I AM READY TO WRITE.

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

The room he wakes up in is warm and dark, a slice of light peeking from between some curtains to his left. The edge of the light lingers on hazel hair laced with grey, and for a moment he stares.

It’s when he catches sight of dried blood hidden just beneath the surface, that the bits of the previous night come back.

Alistair is being suffocated. He can hear the Vault Hunters fighting below, fighting Eleanor Olmstead and her husband. 

Her husband, who is wearing his beloved Wainwright like a fucking used suit.

He had tried to call out to Winny, call to his beloved and bring him out of Vincent Olmstead’s control. Instead a tentacle had wrapped around Alistair’s throat, and was choking the very life from his being. The hunter did his best to keep breathing, but the fleshy area fading from his view only dragged his hopes further and further away.

Winny, I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough…

One eye goes wide before the man, Alistair Hammerlock, jerks back and off of his bed. Hitting the hardwood floor barely registered to the man, singular hand trembling as it instinctively covered his throat. The skin was so sensitive, throat burning with each breath shuddering he took, it was all too much. Alistair wanted to vomit, heart pulsing louder and louder in his ears as he tried to take in his surroundings in the dim morning light. Something rests on his shoulder, and Alistair nearly jumps before in the blink of his remaining eye, someone is kneeling right in front of him. Brown eyes, beautiful brown eyes that aren’t rimmed with black tracks or glowing a cursed green, are looking at him with concern and love. 

“Winny…” Wainwright says nothing when Alistair leans forward, pulling him into a kiss. Alistair doesn’t care that his neck protests, blinking away the black dots in his eye as he kisses his husband’s lips. Yes, husband! He and Wainwright had married, the hunter so out of it he had agreed to Wainwright’s rushing insistence of marrying in the bowels of a now dead ancient being. It had been for the best, Alistair needing assistance from Zane when his mechanical leg had finally given out sometime during the walk back, having been crushed during the time he had chased after Wainwright and had gone missing. The party had been pushed off, the rather late guests taken aside by the newest Vault Hunters as he and Wainwright had retired to their room. The hunter wants to cry when Wainwright pulls back, but only bites the inside of his cheek as he is helped up and onto the bed. Their bloodied clothes, perfectly tailored white suits at one time now stained red and black, sat crumpled up by the door, poorly hidden with a towel. Alistair's leg is on one of the writing desks, his arm neatly beside it and almost cleaned from the blood and viscera from the dead eldritch horror. The silence is oppressive, Alistair staring up as he laid back, trying to give his green and purple mottled neck support from the pain. 

“Alistair…” There is no second voice buzzing in the back of Alistair’s mind, chanting THE HEART STILL BEATS, THE HEART STILL BLEEDS. Wainwright sees the way Alistair clenches his fist, and moves his own shaking hands to gently hold it. He hadn’t expected Alistair to jerk out of bed, the hunter looking so frightened and lost that it nearly brought tears from Wainwright’s eyes. Alistair was the strong one, resilient and his rock, ready to dash into danger and come out with nary a scratch. Instead, he looked very much the opposite, trying his damnedest not to cry in front of his husband while he was on borderline hyperventilation. Under the bruising, Wainwright could see the telltale mark of a tentacle suction cup on the side of Alistair’s neck, and he suddenly wanted to vomit. Instead, the Edenian moves to lie beside his husband, ever so carefully slipping his arm under Alistair’s neck to draw him close. There is a choked noise, but the hunter says nothing as he curls into Wainwright’s side, shaky breaths leaving him faster and faster each time. Hammerlock still hadn’t recovered fully from his time in the Anvil, and to only see what were undoubtedly such a small portion of his injuries upset Wainwright something fierce.

“I thought I lost you.” Neither knows who spoke first, but their mingled confessions both weigh on them, yet free some of the crushing pressure on their chests. Wainwright is the first, a tear dripping down his cheek as he nestles his nose into Alistair’s hair, pressing kiss after kiss to his husband's forehead. The scent of gunpowder, leather and earth grounds him, something that he desperately needs right now. Alistair isn’t very far behind, sniffling as tears begin to fall from his eye. He isn’t ashamed, gripping Wainwright’s nightshirt as if to tether the other to him, lest he be lost the moment Alistair lets go. Whiskey, shaved metal and smoke are prevalent when he is able to breathe, only making the tears come faster. They lay there, quietly crying and taking in the other before finally, they lull to a neutral state. Making the first move, Alistair forces himself to slowly sit up, wheezing as his back protests and before he can slump over, Winny is there and cradling him upright. 

“Winny…” He doesn’t know what to say, wincing as he is finally stable enough to sit. Wainwright moves, snatching the closest med-pack and carefully injecting some of the red liquid into Alistair’s neck. It hurts at first, but soon the numbness spreads, and most of the intermediate wounds slowly stop aching, the bruising now appearing days old. Carefully testing his arm, Alistair is pleased that his back does not protest, and his neck only aches when he turns too fast. The empty pack is disposed of, and when Wainwright turns around, Alistair gets a good look. 

Wainwright looks...apprehensive. His left hand is twitching out a rhythm against his leg, and the man seems to keep looking around, as if expecting things to change. His eyes, no longer black or glowing, look heavy, his face still marred slightly by the black curse that had been forced upon his body for over two weeks now. Alistair feels nothing but hatred for the now deceased Olmstead’s as he carefully gets onto his one leg. It’s unseemly as he all but hops over to Wainwright, who seemed to realize that Hammerlock needed to do this on his own. Using his husband as a support, Alistair looks down into those brown eyes, and only sees uncertainty and barely-disguised fear lingering even further underneath.  

“Am I here Alistair?” His question is barely a whisper, and all Alistair can do is to reach up and caress Wainwright’s face with a soft hush.

“As assuredly as we breathe air. You are here, and you are married to me.” He can see relief well up in those beautiful eyes, and Alistair gives a soft smile of assurance. He had no idea what his other half went through, remembering the wild look in his eye when he was freed, having vomited up what looked like black tar after The Heart had been destroyed. FL4K had held Wainwright up, silent as a hysterical Hammerlock rushed over and took hold of his lover.

“I trust you my dear...I cannot trust myself in these times.” Wainwright never admitted to anything, no, if anything bothered the Jakobs then it damn well stayed inside his head. For him to speak it without hesitation made Alistair’s stomach churn. He only nods, and they stand for a few moments before Wainwright helps Alistair to freshen up. The bath they take is tense, Alistair’s numerous bruises making Wainwright clearly upset, almost hesitant to touch Alistair until the hunter guides his hands. In return, Alistair can’t stop staring at Wainwright’s body, what could only be described as runes now marked across his body as if they had always been there. It doesn’t matter however, Alistair eventually just holding the other as close to his body as possible.

“I love you Winny, I love you more than I can ever say.” He feels his lover all but melt into his embrace, and Alistair finally feels the first fringes of calm wash over him.

“I love you too Alistair, an’ I’ll always be the first ta say it.” It’s a small joke between them, Wainwright the first to blurt out the words before Alistair could, and he feels Alistair’s chest vibrate with a soft laugh. Eventually they get out of the slowly cooling water, Alistair digging out his spare leg after putting on his mostly cleaned arm. The door looks almost foreboding, as if the terrors from the last weeks were just waiting to strike.

Yet as they took each other's hand, those fears seemed so much weaker as Wainwright opened the door. Nothing would ever get between them again, the Jakobs-Hammerlock’s would make sure of it.

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya Chapter 8: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Crap crap crap! Nami thought, looking between the two Devil Fruit users. Her night really couldn’t have been going worse. She was disarmed, caught up in the sticky, painful grasp of a perverted old man with way too many arms, one of which was still worming its way inside the deep V of her bodysuit. Then, even if she could somehow escape the tightly wound tentacles, Black Cage Hina herself stood between her and the exit. The woman might not have been a powerhouse, but her abilities were like something out of a Marines’ wet dream, specifically designed to capture wayward pirates like Nami.

Escape couldn’t have looked more unlikely and at this point she was really hoping Law was ok so he could get his ass back inside and rescue her.

“Ah, Hina-chan, perfect timing!” Harpin laughed. Two of his unoccupied arms pointed at Nami, who was trying her best not to show how much the razor-edged suckers digging into her skin had started to hurt. “I caught this pirate lurking around my study. She must be in on the village’s rebellion; I recognize her necklace as one created by my worthless former jeweler. They must have hired her as an assassin. Arrest her at once, my dear!”

The pink-haired Marine jutted out her hip, expression stern and unimpressed. “I’ll gladly put a Straw Hat behind bars, you’ll be going to jail too.”

Black, watery eyes widened. “What?”

Cool as iron in winter, Hina pulled out a cigarette, taking the time to light it before answering, “Didn’t I tell you that my superiors decided my attendance at your party was more important than attending to my duties? That’s because they wanted me to gather evidence that you’ve been selling government secrets and destroy whatever blackmail you have on them; we’re in tumultuous times, and the last thing they need is you churning even more chaos for your own gain.”

“Ah, a honey-trap. Of course,” he chuckled, giving her beautiful, athletic body an open leer. “Not a bad plan, given my fondness for you, but shouldn’t you have been a little nicer to me if you wanted to get your hands on some evidence? Avoiding me all night isn’t a very good seduction technique.”

Hina looked disgusted at the very thought. “I’d rather cut my own face off than allow you to touch me. No, our plan was far more palatable; Smoker had snuck away earlier to mess with the pipes connected to the spa above the ballroom. We were hoping the water damage to the ceiling would catch your attention for a while so we could investigate.”

“And instead, the village’s rebellion, led by Cat Thief Nami, puts all that careful planning to waste,” he said, giving the captive woman a shake for emphasis. Much as the action hurt, Nami was silently grateful, as it dislodged the tentacle still in her cleavage.

A pink eyebrow raised in disbelief. “You really think the villagers are the ones bombing your mansion? How stupid.”

“Stupid? How dare you! It doesn’t matter whether those peasants were in on it or not; it’s the narrative I’ll spin to the papers when they report on tonight’s events. Once word’s gotten out that they sided with pirates over their beloved master, no one will blame me for finally eliminating those slums. I’ve been wanting that eyesore removed for ages, but they simply refuse to leave.”

The Marine captain scowled at his confession. “Then I suppose when I take you in, I can add ‘slander’ and ‘corruption’ to your list of crimes.”

“How are you planning on arresting me, Hina-chan?” he asked with an incredulous laugh. “By force? My rank was comparable to a Vice-Admiral!”

Grey smoke streamed from her cigarette as she replied, “But your strength wasn’t. Powerful as the Ika Ika no Mi is, you rarely ventured onto the battlefield, instead getting fat and lazy behind a desk. And now that you’re past whatever prime you had, I’d say you’re a little closer to my level.” She smirked, cracking her knuckles. “Hina will enjoy this.”

“You should have stayed downstairs with the guests, Hina-chan,” Harpin sneered. “I’d hate to hurt such a pretty face.”

Glancing at Nami, who’d wisely chosen to remain quiet throughout the conversation, Hina frowned in consideration and—surprisingly—a hint of sympathy. “You’re going to jail, Cat Thief, but if you promise to sit tight, I’ll get you out of your sticky situation first. No woman deserves to be manhandled by a creepy squid.”

All things considered, that was probably be the best deal a pirate could get from her, so Nami nodded enthusiastically.

Running forward, Hina extended her arm, clotheslining the two tentacles encasing her wrists. Nami stared in awe as the Marine’s arm went right through them, leaving behind a black shackle locked around each clammy limb. Spinning on her heel, she next kicked her leg through the two binding the pirate’s thighs. The way the rubbery grey flesh immediately began to pucker and swell indicated that the bands were painfully tight, and Nami soon felt their grasp weaken.

“Fuck!” Harpin yelped, though any further curses were cut off as Hina’s fist slammed into his face. The blow knocked him stumbling back, and after another right hook he had no choice but to release his hold on Nami, the shackles on four of his limbs too constricting and the Marine before him too skilled to engage while restraining a thief.

Falling onto her ass with an “oof!” Nami immediately inspected her thighs and wrists, wincing at the angry marks left behind. Perfectly round, thumbprint-sized red rings littered her skin where the suckers had taken hold, the incisions from the chitin little deeper than a papercut but just as painful. A few had even drawn blood, though to be honest, Beatrix’s nails had sunk deeper.

The suckers are designed to capture and restrain, not rend and tear, Nami concluded. Those tentacles are no joke, though. If he’d been trying, he could have pulled me apart like a paper doll!

With a heavy kick to the chest, Hina sent her former superior crashing into his desk, papers and trinkets flying everywhere. Glancing down at the thief, she raised a challenging eyebrow. “I’m not going to waste my time and energy restraining you, but if you try to run, I won’t hesitate.”

“Fine. Wouldn’t want to miss your beatdown of that pervert, anyway,” she ground out, gingerly prodding at her disfigured legs. If she were lucky, Hina would eventually be too distracted with her fight to notice her sneaking off, but she wouldn’t play her hand until the time was right.

Pleased with the compliance, the Marine darted across the room to continue her cathartic thrashing of the ex-head of Navy intelligence, each punch, kick, and slap making her smile wider as she threw him into suits of armor, furniture, and anything else that was in the way.

Meanwhile, Nami took the opportunity to crawl towards her Clima-Tact, hugging the batons to her chest like an old friend. A glimmer from across the room caught her eye as Harpin was knocked into a lamp, and the embossed titles of the black ledgers winked at her as they lay on the floor. After all this trouble, Law would be pissed if she left without them. Quite frankly, now Nami was feeling pretty determined to get them, too. She wanted to read up some more on Jinbei, and that diagram on the Pacifistas could be useful if they ever ran into Kuma again; maybe it even had some information on how his powers worked, and she could use that to track down the others!

On top of that, Hina was right; the world was already in chaos, and people like Harpin shouldn’t be gaining from it.

While the Navy captain was busy repeatedly grinding the heel of her shoe down onto his crotch, Nami took the opportunity to dash across the room, skidding to a halt by the knight’s armor and gathering up the black leather books.

A crash caught her attention, and Nami’s head whipped to the left to watch Hina dodge a fallen chandelier. Haprin’s floppy lips smirked around his beak, hand pressed against a hidden switch on the wall.

Crap, Nami thought. I forgot there were other traps. She froze as Hina tossed her a glare, the thief’s new position not escaping her notice. Double crap!

The Marine didn’t have any time to do anything about the wayward pirate, though, as Harpin decided to go on the attack, using his multiple arms to fling books, debris, and scattered pieces of armor at the women. Nami awkwardly dodged the projectiles, ducking behind the safe. A thought suddenly hit her, and she peeked out from around the corner of her impromptu shield to observe the Golden Octopus.

Despite the beating Hina had given him, he didn’t look all that much worse for wear. No bruises or welts marred his ashen skin, no bones seemed to be broken, and he even seemed to be walking normally despite the testicular trauma Hina must have inflicted. On top of that, the shackles still locked around his tentacles didn’t seem to be slowing him down, either.

Having had more than enough, Hina shouted “Awase Baori!” as iron bars extended from her arms, spanning across the room. The cage smashed into Harpin’s rubbery body, squishing and distorting it as the bars wrapped around him. Maliciously, she raised the bars and the ensnared man as high into the air as she could before slamming him down onto the floor. As he glared at her, she smirked around her cigarette. “Give up. Everything that passes through my body is locked tight.”

The feeling of victory shattered as his scowl morphed into a smug smile around his beak. “Silly Hina-chan,” he sneered, and as if deflating a balloon, his body became thinner and more flexible, squeezing out from between the bars. Even the shackles Hina’d wrapped around his arms fell away, clattering to the floor. Quickly, eight rubbery limbs lashed out, the two powerful clubs slamming into her stomach like bludgeons. “You can’t cage a squid!”

“Gah!” she coughed, the air pushed from her lungs. Six more arms lashed out, striking her across her face, torso, legs, and ass, jerking her about with each surprisingly powerful blow.

Damn it, didn’t Hina even stun him? Nami thought incredulously, doing her best to stay behind the safe and out of sight.

Inflicting more harsh and humiliating lashes against his former subordinate, he cackled. “I’ll admit, your powers are quite the bane of normal men, but they’re useless against me. A giant squid’s body is malleable enough to withstand deep sea pressure, yet powerful enough to fight a sperm whale! It also makes physical blows practically useless. And while squid might not be quite as notorious escape artists as octopi, this flexible body makes your cage and shackles little more than temporary inconveniences. But escape isn’t my plan.”

Before both women’s eyes, Harpin began to transform again, this time growing larger and larger, his whole body becoming that of an enormous squid that took up nearly a third of the room. Each arm was now at least ten feet long and over a foot thick, with the clubbed feeding tentacles extending to nearly fifteen feet. Black, watery eyes swelled to the size of beach balls, and the disturbing beak grew to the point where it could easily crush a melon in its jaws.

Oh, right, Nami thought, cold terror freezing her lungs. Zoan-type Devil Fruit users can fully transform into their animal.

Quick as a whip, one arm wrapped itself around the dazed Hina, the powerful limb pinning down her arms while sharp suckers latched into the skin. The long silk gown allowed her legs some protection, but only from the chitin; the tentacle itself twined about her entire body until she was completely trapped, squeezing so tightly Nami could hear some of the Marine’s bones pop.

“You should have just been a good girl and agreed to be my secretary instead of hiding behind Sengoku,” he said, voice even more distorted now that his mouth was mainly beak. He dragged her close so he could glare at her through one massive, soggy eye. “I would have treated you nicely—given you more than you deserve. All you had to do was look pretty, spread your legs, and know your place!”

Hina bit down on her cries of pain as Harpin gave her another squeeze, laughing at her attempts to remain defiant. “Pity you had to play so hard to get, Hina-chan. At least Smoker won’t have to mourn you long; he’ll join you in Hell once I’ve finished ripping him to pieces!”

“Fuck…you,” she gasped out, glaring down at the hideous creature even as her bones creaked in his powerful grasp.

Looking on, Nami knew Hina was outmatched, and there was little that the Straw Hat navigator could do to help her. It was better to take the chance to run and live, maybe even find Smoker and tell him to help his friend, as unlikely as it would be that he’d get to her in time. Besides, if she didn’t get out now, she’d be next, and if Hina did manage to beat him, all she could count on a one-way trip to Impel Down.

But that pink hair, cigarette, and determination was just far too familiar, and Nami always had a soft spot for female Marines. Plus, she did owe her for the earlier rescue.

“Thunder Ball!” she shouted, launching a barrage of small electric bolts at the giant squid. She knew it wouldn’t do as much damage as a concentrated lightning strike, but it was just enough to distract him, keeping Hina from getting crushed.

Harpin let out what Nami assumed were yelps of pain before he turned his full attention on her. Grey skin sizzled slightly where the shocks had hit—his skin was rubbery, but it wasn’t rubber. Unlike Luffy, Harpin clearly still took damage from electricity. Nami didn’t have time to gloat, though, as one of the clubbed tentacles raised itself high before swinging down, slamming into the floor right in front of the safe, missing the thief as she dodged just in time.

The force of the blow, combined with the time Nami had been standing on the pressure tile, activated the trapped suit of armor, releasing the halberd from the knight’s grasp to fall onto the massive limb. The sharp blade didn’t quite slice all the way through the slimy club, but it did open a deep gash, blue blood gushing out.

“You bitch!” the giant squid cried, pulling the wounded arm back to inspect the cut, shocked that one of his own traps had been used against him.

Cat-like smile stretched across her face, Nami replied, “Oh, that’s nothing. Didn’t I say there would be thunderstorms tonight? Well, it’s not over yet!”

“Are you seriously—” Harpin began, only to be interrupted by a low rumble from above.

As he looked up, a bolt of lightning came down from the forgotten cloud, striking through the center of the arm constricting Hina as it connected to the Clima-Tact. “Thunder Lance Tempo!”

Once more the foul scent of sizzling sea creature filled her nose, and the concentrated electrical blast was just enough to cripple the limb holding Hina, the blackened flesh smoking and oozing blood in places. A horrific scream of agony rang out from the creature, the closest equivalent she could think of being nails on chalkboard. The limb wasn’t severed like Nami’d hoped, but while it still gripped the captive Marine, her face was much more relaxed, the crushing pressure significantly lessened as it flopped on the floor.

However, the Cat Thief now had a new problem; Harpin was hurt, furious, and his enormous, hateful eyes were fixated squarely on her.

Before she could hide herself or cast another lightning strike she was scooped up by a different tentacle, its grip ten times stronger than before, the serrated suckers the size of peach stones and digging deeper into her skin. She didn’t have Hina’s restraint, screaming as he maliciously began crushing her chest, bit by bit squeezing the life out of her.

“You worthless, stupid, wicked twat!” he snarled, bringing her so close Nami could see her pained, terrified reflection in his watery eye. “I’ll make you pay for that! You should have run while you had the chance! Now who’s going to save you, pirate whore?!”

The answer came in the form of Law and Smoker crashing through the windows, the Marine’s thick smoke clouds wrapped around the surgeon’s waist while their weapons locked in a stalemate. Trapped in the smoke were two large barrels of gunpowder. Shattered glass from the windows floated through the air, forcing Smoker to shield his eyes, giving Law an opening to punch him in the jaw, causing him to fling the pirate and the barrels deeper into the room.

Switching his body and the tumbling barrels with debris, Law smirked up at his opponent, patting one of the bombs as it settled next to him. “Gonna have to try harder than that to get these away from me, White Chase-ya.”

“I’m gonna tear your fucking head off, Trafalgar!” Smoker countered still wiping away the glass. His suit was shredded and smoldering faintly in some places while his jitte had a few scorch marks on it. Law must have taken the bombs meant for the third distraction to use against the Marine. Nami had been so caught up dealing with the Baron she hadn’t even noticed they’d never gone off.

Panting lightly, the Heart Captain brandished his cane sword, preparing to strike, only to pause as he took in the state of the room. He’d lost his mask and coat at some point and his lip was bleeding, but at least he was in one piece. More importantly, once he saw what kind of situation Nami had gotten herself into, he used his powers to switch her with one of the barrels.

She barely had time to regain her footing before he ordered, “Nami-ya, a spark to light the fuse, please.”

“Screw the fuse,” she gasped, gulping down air. Her Thunder Lance Tempo crashed through the wooden barrel, quickly setting off the explosive powder, making Harpin bellow as the tentacle was reduced to nothing more than a stump, enormous body flailing backwards to avoid the flames and shrapnel from damaging his face.

At the sound, Law finally gave the creature attached to the tentacle a good look, color draining from his face at the massive sea monster. “Well shit,” he said as he pushed her behind him, ready to fend off further tentacle strikes. “He’s actually a Devil Fruit user.”

“You owe me so much money for this!” Nami practically sobbed in relief, clutching the back of his vest.

“I’ll pay you when we don’t have a fucking squid monster trying to kill us.”

“And who the hell are you?” Harpin snapped, furious that his prey had been snatched from his sticky grasp once again.

“No one,” Law answered coolly, expanding his Room and slashing at the tentacle whipping towards them. It fell to the ground, wiggling and twitching, and Nami sent another blast of lightning at it for good measure.

“The fuck is Trafalgar Law doing with Cat Thief Nami?” Smoker growled to Hina as he slammed his jitte into the tentacle restraining her, the Seastone tip forcing it to go limp as Harpin howled in pain. Once he’d managed to clear the glass from his eyes, he too had decided aiding his companion was a higher priority than taking out his opponent.

“Are you surprised?” she asked dryly as she peeled the suckers from her skin, wincing at the rings left behind. “Perhaps saving Straw Hats is his new hobby.”

“Well, put them in a cage so we can focus on kicking Harpin’s ass!” he snapped as a shadow fell across him.

“Thunder Lance Tempo!” he heard the female pirate cry out, and he whipped around, ready to defend himself, when he was blinded by a lightning bolt flashing right in front of his face.

When the blotchy spots cleared from his vision, Smoker looked down to find a sizzling lump of squid flesh at his feet, the rest of the tentacle gingerly dragging the mangled tip away.

Hina gave Nami a grateful smile, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. “I only have so much energy and would rather let a few pirates gain a one-day head start if it means taking down a man who’s been leaking government secrets.”

Smoker’s eyes widened in comprehension, then narrowed in annoyance. “Are you shittin’ me?!”

Rather than hear out their argument, Nami urgently tugged Law’s vest. “I think the Navy’s got this covered. They don’t need us getting in their way.”

The way the line of his mouth hardened indicated he wasn’t thrilled with the idea, however, when he noticed the three hardcover ledgers she’d scooped off the floor, he nodded in acceptance. Grabbing her free arm, he turned towards the door, but Harpin was already two steps ahead of them, a massive tentacle batting the safe off its pressure-sensitive tile as easily as a cat would tip over a glass of water. Iron grates shot down over the entrance and windows, cutting off their escape routes.

Before Law could use his Room to bypass the gate, another tentacle whipped forward, smashing into his spine and knocking him into a wall, dragging Nami along with him. It was only sheer instinct that allowed him to turn midair and shield the smaller pirate from the hard impact, but as she reoriented herself, she immediately began to panic.

“Law!” Nami shouted, frantically checking to make sure he was breathing. “Oh, God, please tell me you’re alright!”

“Fuck,” he hissed, cracking an eye open as his teeth grit against the pain.

At least he’s alive, she thought, heart thundering in her chest. “Can you move? Is anything broken?”

Despite the obvious distress he was in, he gave a weak smirk. “And here I thought I was the doctor.”

Behind them, Nami could hear Smoker shout “White Blow!” a sickening, squishy sound filling her ears as the blast made impact with Harpin’s rubbery head. Glancing over her shoulder, she found the Marine standing in front of her, thick white smoke billowing from his arms, the dense clouds wrapping around the flailing tentacles like manacles. “Hina, if we live through this, you’re buying me dinner! All you can eat seafood!”

“Fine, but I’ll skip the calamari,” Hina coughed, slamming her Kimono Sleeve into the open wound of the pinned-down club, smirking slightly when the Baron let out a pained scream. The halberd’s gash hadn’t been deep, but even a creature resilient to physical strikes wouldn’t like a metal pole shoved inside a cut.

Unfortunately, their moment of victory didn’t last long, as Harpin had another trick up his sleeve; flexing his stomach, a spray of inky mist filled the room, blinding the quartet of humans, distracting both Smoker and Hina enough that Harpin was able to wiggle his way out of their traps.

“Hahaha! What are you going to do now?” the giant squid gloated, grunts of pain sounding from the pair of Marines. The floor shook as something repeatedly slammed into it, tiles cracking followed by more groans. “You can’t see me, but you’re all easy enough to find; squid are designed to hunt in virtual darkness!”

“Not much of an advantage when you take up half the room, you freaky bastard,” Law wheezed.

Though she couldn’t see her companion, she could feel him gingerly trying pull himself into a sitting position beneath her. Ok, if he’s snarking, he should be ok, she assured herself as she blindly got to her feet. Muscle memory and familiarity allowed her to assemble her batons properly, and following Harpin’s maniacal laughter, Nami tossed her Clima-Tact in what she hoped was the right direction. “Cyclone Tempo!”

His angry shouts told her she’d hit her mark, and with the ink cleared from the air, she was able to blink away the black film that formed over her eyes. Vision cleared, she was startled to find both Smoker and Hina in his grasp, the serrated rings in his suckers puncturing their skin, the muscular tentacles squeezing them like a pair of toothpaste tubes. Smoker looked far worse for wear, and she understood why as the squid bashed him against the floor like a child trying to break a toy soldier during a tantrum.

Seeing the lone thief before him, Harpin laughed again, taking a break from abusing his former subordinate. “Seems it’s my lucky night; all my problems will be solved in one fell swoop! I can frame Trafalgar Law for Smoker and Hina-chan’s murders and for those little information leaks—the World Government will be happy to pin the blame on him over one of their own, especially if it means I won’t release some rather scandalous information to Big News Morgans. Those charges against me will be dropped in no time!” he cried joyously, a third arm plucking Law from the rubble behind Nami, giving all three of his victims a harsh squeeze. “Add in the arrest of all those pathetic fishermen and their families for ‘aiding’ the Heart Pirates, and I’ll finally have my beautiful island all to myself! No more low-class trash or eyesore shanties—just beautiful women and fancy parties!”

His enormous eyes zeroed in on his final opponent. “That just leaves you, Nami-chan. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a choice; be handed over to the Navy with your boyfriend or stay as my pretty plaything. After the trouble you’ve caused me, I can’t promise I’ll be gentle, but I can assure you, it’ll be better than what they’ll have in store for you at Impel Down.”

As Law, Smoker, and Hina cried out in pain from the crushing pressure of Harpin’s grip, Nami ran through her options. The choices he’d offered weren’t even worth considering. She couldn’t run; even if she weren’t trapped, she couldn’t just leave Law and the two Marines to their fates, nor risk Harpin framing the innocent villagers for an attack they weren’t involved in. Bargaining was pointless as the Baron held all the cards. Nami considered pleading for mercy, but she was positive that it would do nothing but stoke the squid’s massive ego and possibly sign herself up for an even worse fate—if Harpin was willing to blackmail his own companions, who was to say he wouldn’t force her to commit any number of depraved acts for the sake of her companions’ lives?

Spying the remaining two barrels of gunpowder, she came to a decision. With a shout of “Cyclone Tempo!” she launched them at him, pleased when he instinctively knocked them aside with his last pair of uninjured tentacles. She had no intention of setting them off; there was too much of a chance that the others would get caught in the explosion.

They did, however, distract Harpin enough to let her dash the twenty feet she needed to reach the entrance.

“Did you forget about the gate, stupid girl?” he called mockingly as he realized where she’d run.

Instead of answering verbally, Nami smirked as she stomped her foot down on one of the tiles in the third row, praying that the mechanisms hadn’t been damaged during the battle.

The result was better than she could have hoped; a Seastone net the size of the room itself plummeted from the ceiling, smashing into the huge, hideous creature, narrowly missing Nami as she sprang back and squeezed her small body against the grate, taking advantage of the narrow shelter provided by the threshold. Loud groans from the four Devil Fruit users rang out, all their strengths sapped but the thick tentacles around the three humans loosening, their rubbery bulk also providing ample protection against the force of the heavy net.

“Cat Thief, I’m not sure if I hate you more or less than your captain right now,” Smoker wheezed. His forehead was bleeding, his nose looked broken, and his beefy body would probably be one big bruise in the morning, but he was still alive.

“Be grateful,” Nami panted, walking out into the room to collect the black ledgers. “Luffy would have punched him through the floor; I at least left the room intact.”

Either the Gods of Dramatic Irony decided such a statement couldn’t be left alone or Luffy had died and his ghost was haunting her, but beneath her feet, thin fissures began to form.

“Smoker,” Hina asked softly, “you memorized the blueprints of the mansion. What’s below us?”

Briefly, Law and Smoker shared a guilty glance. “The art gallery. Which Trafalgar and I might have briefly…tussled in.”

“Tussled?”

“I may have bashed his head into a potentially load-bearing pillar or two.”

“And I may have cut a few more,” Law added weakly.

As the cracks grew wider, Hina sighed. “And of course, below that is the spa, which has surely sustained massive water damage by now due to Smoker breaking the pipes.”

There was no way to deny it—from the battles to the bombs to the sabotage, the structural integrity of the room had been compromised. Comical tears streamed down Nami’s face as she collapsed to her knees. “We’re all gonna die.”

Trapped as they all were, there was no choice but to watch the cracks grow larger and larger before the floor finally broke apart like a jigsaw puzzle. Harpin’s much heavier bulk mixed with the force of gravity caused him to smash through the floors of two more ceilings, finally crashing into the first floor. His squishy body did provide ample cushioning for the Cat Thief, though, as she bounced off his elastic head, landing hard but safely on the floor.

When the smoke cleared, Nami realized that they’d landed at the far end of the ballroom. Most of the guests had chosen to use the room as a shelter instead of evacuating and possibly facing what they believed to be an angry mob of villagers, but Reginald had managed to herd them all into the corner closest to the entrance where it was safest, and conveniently away from the spot Harpin’s hulking form had landed.

Luck was once again briefly on the pirates’ side as the fall had also managed to dislodge Law from both the tentacle and the net, freeing him. Tired, dirty, but not as badly injured as assumed, he unsteadily got to his feet, grinning slightly when Nami immediately rushed to his side, juggling the books under her arm, ready to catch him if he fell.

“Are you ok?”

“Better than I was under the Seastone net,” he assured. “That was quick thinking back there. I’m just sorry you had to face him alone.”

“Is the crew ok?”

“Shachi’s team has some pretty bad injuries, but Penguin’s was able to evacuate them while I took on White Chase.”

She let out a sigh of relief. Of course he hadn’t abandoned her; the others had just been in more immediate danger. He wouldn’t have even left her in the first place if he hadn’t known they needed his help. And once he saw she was in trouble, he’d immediately saved her and was even apologizing for the fact that he hadn’t been there sooner.

He wasn’t Luffy, but she was grateful her temporary captain had her back.

Grey eyes shifted towards the small red circles that littered Nami’s skin, and she could see him taking stock of her various minor injuries. His glare intensified as it landed on the smaller rings wrapped around her upper thighs, his highly intelligent brain easily deducing what she’d gone through while he’d been off fighting Smoker. “Since we’re back in the ballroom, I guess I get to play the part of ‘jealous boyfriend’ again,” he said lowly, dark tone sending a shiver down her spine.

“What?”

Pulling out of her grasp, he nodded to the books under her arm. “Hold onto those while I thank the Baron for his hospitality; I’ve got just enough strength for two more big techniques.”

Bad as their own states were, their host was far worse off, the Seastone net still twisted around his bulbous head, pinning him to the floor as Hina and Smoker lay barely conscious in his limp tentacles. His beachball-sized eyes glared at the two pirates that had ruined his plans before bulging further as his guests began screaming in horror.

“Dear god, what is that thing?!” a woman cried, pointing at their host.

“What kind of monster has Harpin been keeping?”

“Gerald, must you show that form in public?” Beatrix shouted, appalled.

“Miss Bellemere, is that you?” Reginald called out. He must have recognized her mask, or at least Law standing next to her. His eyes widened as he took in her infamous tattoo and mikan hair. “Gracious, you’re a pirate?”

Somehow, despite the giant squid that had crashed through the ceiling, it was the word “pirate” that sent the crowd into a frenzy.

“Pirates are leading the villagers’ rebellion!”

“No, they must have murdered the townspeople and are now here for us!”

“Where are those Marines?”

“They’re trapped under the net with that monster!”

“Don’t worry; I’ll take care of this!” Kujakumaru shouted, grabbing Law’s fallen cane sword and lunging at Nami.

Exhausted though she was, she still had the strength to sidestep the untrained fop, tripping him before smacking him over the head with her Clima-Tact.

“Nice one,” Law chuckled as he staggered over to Harpin’s pinned form, a sadistic grin on his face as he stared down at the trapped former Intelligence Officer. “Weaklings like him are lucky to be left alive.”

“Law?” Nami murmured in concern, hovering slightly.

Glancing over his shoulder at her, Law’s eyes were filled with wicked excitement and pride. “I said I had the energy for two more techniques, didn’t I? Well, I’ve been looking for a decent subject to test this first one on. So good of Harpin to donate his body to science.”

Before Nami could reason with him to use his powers to get them out of there, a small blade of green, crackling energy formed in his hand. Without even a moment of hesitation, he stabbed it into Harpin’s big, watery eye.

“Gamma Knife!”

A violent tremor rocked the giant squid’s rubbery body as Harpin let out a truly inhuman shriek of agony, blue blood exploding from his beak before going completely still, the spark of life visibly fading in his eyes.

When Law started to sway, Nami grabbed him around the waist, looping his arm over her shoulder and letting him lean on her for support. “What was that?” she asked, voice somewhere between horror and awe.

Panting, he replied, “An attack I’ve been working on. Completely destroys the body from the inside. Figured it was the best way to finish that creep, since external damage wasn’t doing the job.”

Inside, she was torn. Harpin had been a monster, a lecherous creep, an asshole, and a very real danger to the world, Navy and Pirates alike, with the information he had. Even with Smoker and Hina’s testimonies and the ledgers as proof, his extensive connections with the World Government and Underworld meant there was no guarantee that, if left alive, he’d really pay for his crimes.

But in her entire time sailing with Luffy, she’d never seen her captain kill anyone. Not Arlong, Enel, or Crocodile. He left them a broken, bloody mess, dreams destroyed and helpless as the Navy sent them off to prison, but alive. The Straw Hat captain was a reckless fool and a pirate, but he wasn’t a murderer.

Law had just killed a man like it was nothing.

A little part of her wondered if he’d always been planning on taking Baron Harpin Gerald’s life, or if seeing the painful and suggestive marks on her skin had sealed his fate.

Conflicted as her feelings were, Nami didn’t allow her hold to loosen as Law slumped a little harder against her. She could feel his body tremble, his breath coming out in short, staggering pants, his heart pounding beneath her hand.

It seemed her unflinching support was appreciated, as Law gave a tired wink as he activated his Room, spreading it so widely she had to look out the window to see the faint blue edge at the far side of the island.

“What’s he doing?”

“Oh my God, he’s the Surgeon of Death!”

“We’re all going to die!”

Taking a deep breath, Law ignored the crowd’s panicked cries, softly murmuring, “Scan. Shambles.”

In a blink, the duo was whisked from the ballroom to the other side of the island, the Polar Tang waiting in the cove, the rest of the Heart Pirates immediately rushing forward to check on their captain. Law waved off their concerned questions, but Nami shrieked as she was dragged down to the sandy ground as he collapsed to his knees in exhaustion. Now she understood why he’d been against using his powers until necessary; doing all that on such a large scale, plus his fights with Smoker and Harpin, was draining.

Her concern only distracted her for so long, though. As she looked around, she realized they were surrounded by solid gold statues, jewelry, the buffet, the ledgers, and blessedly, her dress, leather wallets spilling out of the hidden pockets. Gleeful that not only were they alive but that he’d kept his promise, her grip around him shifted into a grateful hug, her lips unconsciously brushing against his cheek in thanks.

Law opened one exhausted eye. “Everyone start loading up the loot.” The last syllable barely left his lips before his eyes rolled back and he completely passed out in Nami’s arms, head lolling until it was squished against the Cat Thief’s chest.

“Captain!” the crew cried out.

Terrified that she might be holding a corpse, Nami pressed her fingers to his neck, heaving a massive sigh of relief when she felt a steady pulse. “He’s alive,” she assured the hovering pirates, attempting to shift the dead weight of their captain so he didn’t smother himself in her cleavage.

“Holy crap, Nami, you both look like shit!” Ikkaku said as she kneeled down to help, too concerned to even tease her about the fact that she hadn’t even hit Law for using her breasts as a pillow.

“It’s been a long night,” she sighed as they finally managed to maneuver him so he was lying flat on the ground. As if annoyed at the loss of his comfortable headrest, his brow furrowed briefly, but after a moment smoothed out as he fully succumbed to his exhaustion.

There was still work to be done, though, and Nami accepted her roommate’s proffered hand, letting her pull her to her feet. With a quick glance around, she raised an eyebrow. “Hey, there’s no way we can eat everything from the buffet before it goes bad. Load up what you can, but before we go, do you think you can help me get some of these leftovers to the town?”

“The Marines will be swarming the place within an hour.”

“Harpin’s call for backup was already denied and Smoker and Hina were barely conscious when we left. Even if they did wake up, they’re going to have their hands full up at the mansion. I don’t think we have to worry for a while yet.” Despite her stinging cuts, sore muscles, and flagging energy, Nami gave a cat-like grin. “In the meantime, the food’ll make an excellent bribe to convince the townsfolk not to tell them about these caves.”

Shaking her head in amusement, Ikkaku simply replied, “Whatever you say, Nami.”

XXX

Several hours later Nami staggered into her quarters, only pausing to check that all three black-bound ledgers were still on her desk before letting out a sigh of relief and collapsing into the vanity’s plush chair. The work had been non-stop; they’d been short-staffed in terms of loading up the treasure into the cargo hold. Even Nami had been roped into partaking in physical labor, barely even given enough time to drop off her dress and the ledgers and change into more sensible footwear before she’d been put to work.

It couldn’t be helped. The majority of Shachi’s group was recovering in the infirmary, the second mate’s wounds the worst with a broken arm and three cracked ribs. Bepo had seen him try to take on Smoker by himself to protect the others, and according to the bear, he’d be far worse off if Law hadn’t arrived in time to save him.

Speaking of, while Law could have moved all the food and treasure in an instant, it was universally agreed that they weren’t going to wait around for him to regain consciousness just so he could overuse his powers again. Penguin had even insisted on carrying him to his quarters before heading to infirmary to act as interim doctor, the First Mate piggybacking the taller man awkwardly, but refusing any help. It had been kind of sweet, watching him take such a big-brother role, and it confirmed in her mind that the crew cared for each other just as much as the Straw Hats did.

At least her own injuries hadn’t been too debilitating, and once they’d gotten everything they could into the ship Ikkaku had roped Bepo, Jean-Bart, and Clione into helping transport the remaining food into the town. Late as the evening was, the villagers had been absolutely in shock as they stumbled out of their shacks, staring at the massive feast that had been laid out before them. Several had even rubbed their eyes in disbelief, clearly thinking it was some kind of dream. Once they realized what was actually happening, though, the whole town had let out a cheer, and Nami had been blessed with a hug from the little girl from earlier, the child recognizing the thief’s jewelry and mischievous smile.

Nami was a bit sad to have to leave, as the townsfolk had asked the pirates to stay and celebrate the Baron’s downfall, but the navigator wasn’t going to squander that one-day head-start Hina had promised and had immediately ordered Jean-Bart to get them out into the open sea. Once Tokken Island was nothing more than a speck in the distance, she’d handed the reigns over to Bepo; he’d shyly informed her that Law had discussed an escape route and destination before the mission had even started.

Now she was back in her room, finally able to take a moment to herself. Ikkaku would be gone at least a few more hours; she’d insisted on monitoring the engine, making sure the additional weight of the treasure wouldn’t put too much strain on the ship. She’d given the hickey on Nami’s neck a meaningful look, though, and the navigator hadn’t even bothered trying to play it off as one of Harpin’s suction marks. Looking at it in the mirror, she knew that was the right call; only an idiot would assume the plum-colored blemish was in any way related to the bright red rings.

“Pervy jerk,” she grumbled, tearing her eyes from the hickey to focus on wiping off her makeup. “Maybe Ikkaku has a cute scarf I could borrow.”

A brief knock interrupted her musings, so she called out “Come in!” assuming it was Bepo asking for her input on their heading. To her surprise, it was Law who sidled through the door. He was once more in his normal hoodie and spotted jeans, colored contacts gone, dark circles proudly visible under his eyes. The black hair dye was still in, but it would likely be fully washed out and back to its original midnight blue in no more than a week.

“Here for your hat?” Nami asked, indicating the black-spotted accessory on the bed. She’d noticed it when she’d dropped off her things and had planned on returning it in the morning. Even she wasn’t mean enough to disturb an exhausted swordsman just to get his hat out of her room.

Plopping the fuzzy accessory onto his head, Law stood behind the back of her chair, pulling something from his jeans pocket. “Among other things.”

The cool touch of gold made goosebumps rise across her collarbone, and she gasped as she recognized Beatrix’s extravagant, heart-shaped diamond necklace as it settled against her throat.

“Is this—?”

“Let it never be said Dr. Goodheart doesn’t spoil his woman,” he chuckled in her ear as he secured the delicate clasp behind her neck. “Consider it my payment for being my date tonight. I estimate that yellow diamond alone is worth at least ten times the forty-five million belli I accrued for three hours of your company. You can count the other thirty diamonds as reparations for dealing with such a shit host.”

Unbidden, a tiny smile came to her lips. She was good at reading between the lines, and this was definitely Law’s way of begging forgiveness for the absolute shitshow she’d endured because he’d left. To be honest, it wasn’t necessary. After hearing about the state Shachi was in, she couldn’t bring herself to blame him—if that had been Usopp or Sanji or Robin, she’d have done the same.

Not that she was going to let him know that. He might take the necklace back.

“Hmmm, I guess it’s acceptable,” she replied coyly, admiring herself in the mirror. The diamonds sparkled elegantly in the light, the pale yellow heart resting precisely in the divot of her collarbone. “Though with all the chaos, I’m impressed even thought to grab it when we left.”

Behind her, Law’s wide grin was devious and self-satisfied. “Oh, no, I grabbed it when I set the curtain on fire. Even if I came away with nothing else, I was making damn sure I got this after that crazy bitch had the gall to insult you.”

Oddly flattered that he’d put in the effort to get her such a luxurious gift and revenge on the woman who’d dared to call her “cheap,” Nami gave him a soft, genuine smile. She wouldn’t even sell it, since he was being so sweet. “Thank you. It’s gorgeous.”

“You carry it better than she does, anyway,” he replied, thumb idly rubbing little circles on her shoulders. “I think you should wear it to the next party.”

Without the gloves, his hands were deliciously warm against her skin and it was oddly nice to see the tattoos on his fingers again. Like the bags under his eyes, they were such a familiar part of him that she’d unconsciously begun to miss. “Hard pass. Tonight was a clusterfuck, and I think I’ll stick to hitting bars. At least there I can beat the crap out of the horny assholes dumb enough to grope me.”

“Fair.” Carefully turning her chair around, he pulled a small first-aid kit out of his hoodie pocket. From the little white box he removed some gauze, antiseptic, and medical tape. Pouring a bit of the clear alcohol onto a small square of white cotton, he gently dabbed at the scabbed-over cuts on her clavicle. “I promised I’d clean these up when we got back to the ship, and I wanted to get a better look at those suction marks. Did you even bother getting these checked over earlier?” he scolded.

Red crept across her face as she realized she’d completely forgotten about her own injuries. “Shachi’s team needed the medical attention way more than me; I figured I could wait until they were out of the woods.” She winced as the sting of alcohol irritated Beatrix’s claw marks but knew better than to complain.

“Of course. It had nothing to do with you being distracted by piles of treasure.” After carefully taping a wide gauze bandage over the cuts, he turned his attention to the sucker marks. His frown darkened as he got a better look at the rings across her thighs. “In the interest of doing my job as your doctor, I have to ask; were all the injuries you received from Harpin external, or should I scan you for internal trauma?”

Her eyes widened and the blood drained from her cheeks as she registered what he was suggesting. “No I…I’m fine. He didn’t…I mean, he groped me and I’m sure if Hina hadn’t arrived—”

Law held up his hand, halting her uncomfortable stammering. “Again, I’m truly sorry you had to deal with him on your own. I knew he was a creep and a pervert, but I swear I thought he was a normal human—someone you could hold off on your own if necessary.”

“It’s ok,” she assured, anxiously rubbing her arms. She really didn’t want to dwell on what Harpin could have done to her if Hina hadn’t shown up. Given the Marine’s willingness to release her from his lecherous grasp, Nami wondered if she’d been in that position herself, or at least seen comrades treated similarly. After all, he had at least a hundred reported accusations of sexual harassment against him. The Navy really needed to stop giving such monsters seats of power. “I guess I should be flattered that you had faith in me to take out a former Marine officer.”

“I promise to never make that mistake again. Once things have settled down, we’re beginning combat training. Your weather attacks are impressive, but they won’t work in every situation,” he said seriously as he turned his focus to her wrists. Taking a silver tube out of his hoodie’s pocket, he squirted a small amount of thick, grey cream into his palm before massaging it into the thumbprint-sized rings. Cool and slightly minty, Nami could immediately feel it begin to soothe her sore muscles and stinging marks.

“I’m pretty sure the odds are good that we’ll never run into another squid-guy,” she joked weakly.

“True, and I suppose he could have been so much worse.”

“How?”

“Did you know several species of squid are cannibals?”

Stomach churning in disgust, her mind frantically fought against the images that tried to wrestle their way into the forefront of her mind. “Ew ew ew! Oh god, how do you even know that?”

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards in amusement as he worked the cream into the larger circles on her upper arms. “When you spend a lot of time in a submarine, one of the main ways to pass the time is studying the habits of underwater creatures. Clione’s even started writing a book about some of the things we’ve seen.”

“Ugh! Remind me to never read it!”

Squeezing another dollop of cream into his palm, he chuckled. “I make no such promise as his research has been extremely beneficial. Right now, he’s studying a skin and blood sample from one of my own sucker marks to be safe, but he assures me that giant squid aren’t venomous. I am ordering you to report any dizziness, shortness of breath, swelling, or other unusual symptoms, though.”

“Fine,” she sighed as he let go of her arms to crouch between her legs. She jerked violently as his long fingers wrapped around her calf, leg kicking out while her heart hammered against her chest with instinctual panic. With the cream coating his skin, the sensation was far too similar to the texture of Harpin’s tentacles slithering across her flesh. Law must have drawn a similar conclusion, as he mumbled an apology, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm.

Nami immediately felt guilty and mentally berated herself. Sure, Law could be forward, but she knew he was no threat compared to Harpin. Yes, he flirted and stared, but if the disgust he showed towards the mere possibility that she’d been sexually assaulted was anything to go by, he wasn’t that kind of threat. She had no reason to be afraid of him.

Taking a few calming breaths, she met his eyes, nodding down at her leg. “It’s fine. Go ahead, doctor.”  

As if she were a skittish doe, he slowly and cautiously placed his hand on her shin, pleased when she remained completely still, even though he could still feel the tension in her muscles. Slow and gentle, he focused on massaging it into her left calf with both hands, keeping his hands where she could see them.

“So,” he began, glancing up at her from his place on the floor, “where are you taking me for dinner?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, eyes locked on the way his fingers splayed out and he rubbed careful, broad circles over each contusion. It seemed he was doing everything he could to make his hands feel as different from the invasive tentacles as possible.

“The dinner you owe me for losing the bet.”

“Fucking excuse you?” she snapped, sitting up straight in her chair so she could properly glare down at him.

A dark eyebrow raised in challenge, though only amusement danced in his amber eyes. “You only got seven wallets before escaping the ballroom. That means you’re paying for our victory dinner.”

“Um, no, I grabbed six more as I ran out,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“Did you really?”

“Yes!”

“Too bad you can’t prove it.”

“My word’s enough!”

“It’s absolutely adorable that you think I’d trust your word when money’s on the line.”

Furious though she was, she knew he had a point and she really couldn’t prove that she which wallets were stolen when, so she switched tactics. “That reminds me; you owe me an extra fifty million belli for your shitty intel, and no, the necklace doesn’t count towards that.”

“Do you accept gold bars?”

She blinked, surprised. “Um, sure.”

A narrow shoulder lifted in a relaxed shrug “Then you’ll get your payment after I get that ugly-ass squid statue melted down on Knox Island.”

“You grabbed that?” She’d noticed a few gold statues being loaded up, but in the excitement of all that treasure, she hadn’t really registered that it was the one from Harpin’s office.

“I decided I deserved a bonus for everything I’ve put up with tonight, though I grabbed just about everything of value I could. Even if we couldn’t fit it all in the cargo hold, stealing and scattering Harpin’s possessions throughout the island will make it harder for the authorities to figure out what we actually took until after we’ve sold it.”

“Good thinking.”

His smug grin made it clear he knew exactly how clever he was. A more liberal dollop of cream filled his palm, and without even asking he began massaging it into her right thigh. It only then registered that throughout their argument, he’d finished treating both her calves without her even noticing, if the cool tingle dancing across her skin was anything to go by. He’d easily managed to distract her from his actions, and she must have unconsciously gotten used to the feeling of his hands on her legs, as she barely twitched when his calloused palms touched her.

Unfortunately, she now had a different problem—he was intimately close, hands thoroughly rubbing the cream into the sensitive flesh of her thighs, and hot blood immediately rushed to her cheeks as she took in the picture the handsome captain made kneeling between her spread legs.

“What is that stuff, anyway?” she asked, trying to keep herself distracted, though this time for very different reasons.

“It’s a special salve I developed. It soothes the pain, plus speeds up the healing process. I’ve found it’s damn good on welts, bruises, contusions, and other unseemly blemishes.”

“How do you make it?”

“It’s plant-based, actually. I found a unique type of aloe on a jungle island, among several other interesting medicinal plants. That’s actually why I’m so invested in your greenhouse idea; I’d like to plant some of the seeds so I can replenish my stores once they run low.”

He may be a pirate, but he definitely takes his medical duties seriously, she thought with a hint of fondness.

Nami noticed then that, despite how suggestive his position was and how risqué the area he was massaging the thick cream into might have been, his actions were cold and clinical. He was in full-on doctor mode, all his focus on treating a patient.

It also didn’t escape her attention that, once more, he didn’t seem to be moved by the amount of skin on display. She was still in her skimpy bodysuit, and considering how many times she’d caught Uni, Clione, and others staring at her and sporting nosebleeds, she knew she looked sexy as hell, even with the sucker marks. She knew he wasn’t as easily impressed by women as the others, but did he find the marks that repulsive? Maybe the others just hadn’t been able to properly see them in the moonlight, or they’d been too fixated on her chest to notice.

Except Law also didn’t seem to be flirting with her as much as she’d expected. Hadn’t even teased her about the kiss, or even seemed aware that he’d passed out on her boobs earlier. Was he too focused to bother? Too tired? Or was he just not interested now that she was practically naked?

Deciding to test the waters as he switched to her other thigh, she quipped, “I don’t suppose that stuff works on hickeys, does it?”

“Oh, there’s not a chance in Hell this stuff’s going anywhere near your neck,” he said, glancing up at her with a tired but devilish smile. “I worked hard on that mark, and you’re going to wear it with pride.”

Ok, that was more like the Law she’d gotten used to, annoying as he was. “No, I’m going to slather it with concealer until it goes away on its own.”

His hands stilled their motions as his voice dropped an octave. “If I think you’ve put even a speck of makeup on that hickey, Nami-ya, I may have to leave something a little more…obvious.”

She swallowed hard, red tinging her cheeks. She wasn’t quite she what he had in mind, but she knew better than to ask when he started to get that hungry glint in his eyes. After all, if the hickey was payback for her sunburn prank, his punishment for covering it up was probably the kind of kinky shit Robin had told her about after a few too many glasses of wine on girls’ night.

Forcing away those kinds of thoughts, she huffed, “Fine, I’ll leave it alone. You’re just lucky I’m in a good mood from all the treasure we got.”

Salve thoroughly worked into her skin, Law finally stood. “Things might not have gone exactly as I planned, but in the end, I’d call tonight a success.” He strolled over to her desk, picking up the black ledger marked “Intel,” casually thumbing through it with a pleased grin. “Especially since we got what we came for. More, even.” He tsked sarcastically, grin stretching wider as he took in the various reports and formulas. “Look at all this classified information. The Navy should really send us a thank-you card for taking this away from an unscrupulous bastard like Harpin. I mean, who knows what kind of chaos could be stirred up if it got leaked to the Underworld?”

The sharp, maniacal gleam in his eyes sent tremors down Nami’s spine. “It…definitely could cause problems.”

“Absolutely. Imagine how people would react if they saw what Vegapunk and his subordinates got up to? Why, there’s a whole chapter here on the experiments performed on Punk Hazard—looks like a scientist named Caesar created a chemical weapon that nearly destroyed the whole island. And look,” he chuckled, turning the book to show Nami a complicated chemical formula, “there’s even a recipe.”

It suddenly dawned on Nami that as dangerous as such intel was with Harpin, Law might not be much better. He wasn’t like Luffy, who was too good-natured and direct to even consider using such backhanded means against the Navy. Nor was he like Arlong, who would have been too stupid to understand the scientific intel and instead focused on selling the blackmail. Robin and Franky were smart enough to understand and potentially use it, but they had the morals not to, especially if their captain was against it.

Law was intelligent, ambitious, connected, and unscrupulous. It was clear he had some sort of plan for what was in those books, and Nami wasn’t sure she liked it. These weren’t just military codes or dossiers on shichibukai.

This was the kind of stuff that could start an arms race.

White teeth sank into her lower lip. “Considering how dangerous that information is, then, I think we should get rid of those ledgers.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, Hina may have only been specifically ordered to retrieve his blackmail materials, but Harpin was already being investigated for leaking classified intel to the Underworld—if the Navy thinks we took more than just gold, they’ll send every Fleet Admiral after us with extreme prejudice. We’re better off dumping them at a Marine base so they won’t consider us a threat.”

“Are you seriously saying you want me to give them back?” Gold eyes flashed with anger, and after hours of staring at the more muted grey, Nami found them all the more intense. She jumped when he slammed the book down onto the desk. “I did not fight a giant squid and nearly get my crew killed for nothing!”

“Wha—it wasn’t nothing! We got all that treasure—”

So quick she could have sworn he used his powers, Law was back in front of her. Long, tattooed fingers harshly grasped the back of the chair, trapping her in her seat. “I’ve told you before; I don’t give a shit about money. The information in those books is more valuable to me than everything in that mansion combined,” he sneered.

Brown eyes widened at his change of tone as she shrank back, immediately on-guard as his threatening aura surrounded her. “Look, Law, I know it’s been a rough night, but you have to listen to me; we can’t let that intel out into the world. I hate the World Government just like any other pirate, but if the Underworld gets hold of those blueprints and formulas, they’re not going to just be used on Marines—innocent civilians will be caught in the crossfire. There will be massacres across the Grand Line, wars could start—”

Leaning in so close their noses nearly touched, his glaring irises filled her vision. “Innocent civilians also get slaughtered to cover up the World Government’s crimes. I’ve seen genocide carried out because of greedy bastards who would rather kill thousands than admit they’d poisoned an entire city. That’s just the way it is, Nami-ya; the weak don’t get to decide how they die.”

Manicured nails dug into the armrests. For a moment she considered backing down, but all she could imagine was all the inevitable death that would come if she allowed that intel to find its way into the wrong hands. Swallowing hard, she replied, “You…sound like you speak from experience. Are you saying that if someone could have stopped that massacre, you would have told them not to?”

“It might never have happened in the first place if the truth that Amber Lead wasn’t contagious hadn’t been covered up!”

She gasped. She’d heard about Amber Lead and the tragedy of Flevance, but was he saying there was more to it than the world had been told? It wouldn’t surprise her, but…

Wait, he’d said he’d published papers on the effects of lead poisoning in children, she thought with dawning understanding. Had he discovered some government conspiracy, some sanctioned cover-up that had led to the genocide of the White City during his research? Was that why he wanted to out their secrets? Why he became a pirate instead of a doctor?

“There’s a difference between releasing information about a disease and selling weapons, though,” she said quietly, desperately hoping her uncombative tone would calm him down. “If those ledgers have methods for curing a disease, by all means, spread the word, but you know as well as I do that the formula to a weaponized gas in the wrong hands will bring nothing but disaster. And if innocent lives aren’t enough to convince you, think of your crew; aside from the Navy coming after you, how do you know whoever you sell that formula to wouldn’t immediately use it to take you out? After all, you could easily play both sides and sell them out for double the profit. A smart man would see Trafalgar Law and the Heart Pirates as their biggest threat and act accordingly.”

The grip on the chair behind her audibly tightened, and Nami was reminded that this wasn’t Luffy, or Usopp, or even Zoro she was dealing with; Law was a pirate known for his sadism and didn’t have her nakama’s qualms against killing. For a brief, terrifying moment, she feared he might shift his hands to crush her throat, but after a few slow, calming breaths, he dropped his arms and backed away.

His tone was significantly lighter as he stated, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding—I’m not looking to sell any of the intel in those books. Especially not the weapons research. It’s fascinating and will make for great bedtime reading, but at most it’s a passing curiosity. Something to entertain me on sleepless nights.”

“Then why go through all the trouble to get those ledgers?” she asked nervously.

“Because they have information I need to achieve my dream.”

“Information that’s worth the Navy and Underworld coming after you?”

The trademark smug smirk returned to his lips. “Concerned for my safety? I really must be growing on you.”

Pale hands fisted on her knees as she glared up at him. “After tonight, people are going to realize I’m sailing with the Heart Pirates; that means for the next year, your enemies are my enemies.”

“True, and we’re both smart enough to know that it’s better to avoid trouble.” As if sensing her need for more space, he backed up until he was leaning against her desk. “If you’re worried about Black Cage, I’m happy to compromise—we’ll take a photo of you burning the Personal ledger and send it to the nearest Navy base. That’s the one I’m the least interested in, and it should lower our threat level in their eyes.”

It wasn’t a bad plan. Blackmail and personal information on the Admirals was generally easier to sell and distribute than scientific research, as even a dummy could recognize their value. If the Marines saw they’d destroyed that, they’d likely assume they’d done the same with the rest so long as the secrets never got out. “What about the rest of it?”

“Like I said, I’m not looking to release anything dangerous, but I see no reason not to study it myself in case we ever encounter those weapons. If I can understand how a poisonous gas works, it’s easier to develop a cure, and that’s something I could certainly bid off to interested parties in the Underworld, or maybe the Revolutionaries would be willing to make me an offer.”

After the way he’d been acting, he was sounding a little too reasonable, instantly raising alarms in her mind. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“After everything we’ve been through tonight, you still doubt me?”

“Yes.”

He frowned briefly but didn’t seem surprised. Then again, he’d just lashed out at her over a misunderstanding—he’d be an idiot to assume she’d blindly trust his word. “I appreciate your honesty, at least. I suppose I’ll just have to find a way to prove myself.” Picking up the ledgers, he playfully tipped his hat. “Of course, I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t trust leaving these with you. You might do something stupidly noble like destroy them before I can get what I need.”

“And what exactly is it you need?” she pressed.

As he opened the door, he grinned over his shoulder. “Now I’m not sure you’ve earned that information, Nami-ya, but you have time to change my mind. If you manage to show me I can trust you by the time we reach the Isles of Grimm, I’d be happy to discuss it over dinner. I’ll even concede the bet as a show of good faith.”

Much as she wanted to argue, the navigator knew better than to risk sailing back into a storm. Law had proven that night that he was loyal to those he worked with and wasn’t completely without honor. On the other hand, he was still willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted, and anyone who got in his way would suffer his wrath. He had his own morals and plans—ones that might not coincide with hers.

Most importantly, he had the book on the shichibukai. It was clear he wouldn’t let her near the ledgers if he thought she might use the opportunity to double-cross him. If she had any hope of getting the information she sought on Jinbei and Kuma, she’d have to play nice and not rock the boat until she had her opening.

“Fine. But you’re going to have to work a little harder at earning my trust too, Trafalgar. I mean it when I say I don’t want any of those weapons specs finding their way to the Black Market.”

“A reasonable enough request. Now get some sleep, Nami-ya. If those marks haven’t faded in the next twenty-four hours, come to the infirmary for more salve.”

On that doctorly order he closed the door, leaving a concerned and confused navigator to stew over the night’s events.

[whump-the-caretaker]

Shifter pt. 12

start / previous / about the characters / next

Beck was not accustomed to just doing what he was told. Many people in his life had come up against his force of will with much kinder consequences, and he always stubbornly set himself against any attempts to control his life. This was just… so much worse, and yet he still kept pushing back, no matter how many ways Ricky found to punish them. 

He could take a beating. He could live with an empty stomach.

Which was of course how they ended up in a standoff--on either side of a glass wall with Avery in the middle. Beck prowled restlessly outside of the tall glass tank, eyes fixed on Avery where he knelt with Ricky’s knife at his throat, as still as possible under his hands.

“Apparently, viewers took a liking to him,” Ricky mused. It had been an accident getting the human on camera, a camera left rolling to catch a behind-the-scenes vignette they made when Avery came to pick Beck up off the ground at the end of a scene. “I guess we just needed a monster fucker.”

Beck jolted into human form without pausing in his pacing. “Leave him alone.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t be doing anything to him. You will.” He ruffled Avery’s hair. “You’ve done enough mythical creatures. We’re going for mermaid. I want to get you blowing him underwater. Or, I mean, you can do tentacles, I guess. I can sell that.”

“Fuck you.” Beck snapped. For all the humiliating, degrading things he’d had to do for this man, he’d not actually fucked anyone on camera, and he wasn’t about to start with Avery. “I’m not dragging him into this.”  

“Uh, you are.”

"I said no!” Beck kicked the wall of the tank. He was breathing heavily as he continued, “And you won’t hurt him if you want anything else out of me.”

Not Avery. He shouldn’t have to suffer this.

Silence hung between them for a long stretch. 

Ricky tapped the knife ponderously on Avery’s skin. “The good doctor was almost right, you know. Way back when. Very little sells better than sex.”

Beck frowned, more jarred by the non-sequitur than the reminder of those first experiments and recordings. Avery held still and tried not to worry about where this was going.

“If there’s one thing that comes in a close second, though, it’s violence.” 

The knife pulled tight against him, and he hissed. Beck’s eyes went wide.

“And if you won’t do what I ask, then, well, I’ll take what I can get, I guess. I don’t need people I can’t use. ”

Beck shook his head slowly. Avery felt a trickle of blood run down his skin to pool between his collarbones.

“So what’s it going to be, kitten? A blowjob or a snuff film?”

Each word in that sentence hit Avery like a physical blow.

The knife under his chin forced his head up so that his neck was stretched out on display, split skin stinging badly as it pulled. 

Beck shook his head slowly and dropped to his knees. 

“Good boy.”

“Don’t,” Avery breathed, not sure who he was talking to. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t you worry. This will all be over before you know it,” Ricky said, shifting so that he could check the cuff on Avery’s ankle, securing him to the bottom of the tank by a short chain. While he was still there, turning and heading for the ladder, a hose fell in and started pumping water down, soaking Avery’s clothes and already filling up the tank.

Beck scrambled in the moment Ricky dropped the ladder for him. “Avery, shit, I’m sorry.” He bent to tug at the chain holding him down and then grabbed onto his shoulders. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Better figure it out fast!” Ricky called out to him, stepping around behind the camera man to begin directing shots. “I’m not turning the water off until you do.” 

“Hey, hey,” Avery said, getting a hold of Beck’s shoulders to steady him. “It’s all right.”

“It’s not alright, Avery! Fuck!”

Avery focused on calming him down, ignoring his own feelings about the instructions they’d been given. It was surprisingly easy, once he got Beck to stop panicking, to help him figure out a scaled tail, more serpent than fish. It was stunning, glittering white scales near wrapped around them, and nearly distracting enough to make Avery forget the cameras in their faces. Up against the glass with his head barely above water, he tried to focus just on them while Beck slipped beneath the surface. 

Days and scenes blended into a stream of mistreatment. It seemed like every day they tested the limits of Beck’s shifting and personal boundaries. Over and over, he sucked it up and did what he had to to keep them both safe, but no matter what shape he took, it felt like some part of him was being stolen. The worst were the times they made Avery help. Ben could take being cornered when it was just him, could manage the humiliation on his own, but watching them do it to Avery made his skin crawl.

Over time, there were fewer restraints, fewer guns. They could almost forget that it wasn't their choice. The first time Beck laughed, halfway between shapes and snickering at the face Avery made in response, it died on his lips. All of them grew complacent, until the moment when Beck realized they almost weren’t being guarded at all. 

The moment he found himself sliding on hooves and being held up by Avery, he’d been nearly too distracted to notice Ricky sending the last tech to get a prop. They were alone with just Ricky and the cameraman.

Neither of them was actually restrained. There were no guns.

Maybe if he’d paused to think, he’d have talked himself out of it, rationalized that there was no getting out even if he did take Ricky down, that there were men in the hallway, that he was still wearing a blocker... but he didn’t. One moment he was unsteadily just trying to stand, the next he was turning on Ricky, already halfway into a panther as he launched himself across the room. 

With a curse, Avery followed suit, only a beat behind him. He grabbed for the camera man, trying to subdue him before he could sound the alarm or get his hand to a weapon.

Everyone was shouting. Beck tasted blood, teeth sinking into flesh, and heart pounding, but it still wasn't fast enough. 

With one arm in tatters, holding off the beast, Ricky managed to activate the blocker, and Beck collapsed with a strangled snarl.

Two men ran in from the hall, guns drawn.

“Where the fuck were you?” Ricky shouted. “Fix it! Now!”

They rushed Avery, surrounding him, weapons aimed at his head. "Get on the ground!" Through the haze of pain, Beck heard Avery give in.  Techs and guards were flooding in from elsewhere in the building.

Standing over him, Ricky was bleeding and furious.

Beck choked for breath between the noises being wrenched from his throat. Shocks of pain ran over his skin like electricity and lanced up and down his spine. The shapes he flashed through felt like they were being twisted out of him. 

It went on for decades, his mind never really blocking out the seizing pain. He choked for air, begging with human tongue and wordless whines for it to stop before it abruptly cut off. 

Beck sobbed and twitched through a final few shapes, ending up almost human, just a light dusting of fur across his skin to mark otherwise.

He forced his eyes open and saw Avery with his face ground into the floor, cuffs on both his wrists and his ankles. After shoving him hard enough to split the skin of his forehead, they hauled him up.

Beck lay there, dazed and unable to look away. It was the techs who grabbed him, and Beck flinched but didn't fight them. He let them manhandle him even as they pulled out some foreign sort of hooking contraption. It looked like a fucking  bottle opener. A high-tech, heavy bottle opener.

"These blockers really aren't designed for someone quite as rebellious as you,” Ricky snapped, moving Beck’s head with his shoe. “This might hurt a bit, but we wouldn't want it to fail, would we? Sit still." 

As they hooked the device in and ripped the blocker free of his neck, he finally strained against their hands. A sharp spike stabbed through him, up into his skull. The line of pain stretched, pulling out of him, like drawing barbed wire through his spinal column. Then it was gone. He realized he’d been screaming. 

He had a moment, free from the blocker, where he thought numbly about fighting--a moment where he stared at the gun to Avery’s head--and then a new one was pressed to his skin, snaking along the raw path of nerves like a shark after blood. 

Ricky waved the burned out blocker in front of him. "See what you did?"

He nodded, eyes not focusing on the tiny device so close to his face. He was too distracted watching the tool they'd used, already disappearing into a technician's pocket.

Ricky grabbed his face and yanked it around to him. "I don't see how it's so hard for you to understand. I'm in charge here. You do what I say. Shift when I say. You--" Ricky stopped, straightening up and correcting himself. “What am I saying? Dumb mutts need to be trained, not taught.” He turned to glare at the confused tech in the doorway, the one that had only just returned with the lasso he’d been sent for. “Go get me a whip. And be quick about it this time.”

Beck set his jaw and prepared to be defiant. It would be worth it, he reminded himself. Whatever pain he suffered was worth the spark of hope. He had to prove to himself that he’d put up some modicum of resistance. He’d had to try.

But Ricky didn’t turn to him.

He turned to Avery.

“Give me his back,” he ordered the guards holding Avery upright.

“No. Wait.” Beck found himself breathless. “No, it was me.”

Someone had the forethought to grab him early, to get a collar--a shifting collar on a dogcatcher’s pole--around his neck.

“No, no-- Let me go!” he shouted, trying to rip himself free and growing frantic as the tech returned with the whip. “I did it. It was my fault. Stay away from him.”

He was desperate to get to Avery, a shift taking him almost without his meaning it when they cut Avery’s shirt away. A tiger that needed a second pole and even more techs to restrain. Avery was tensed, all the muscles in his back braced for what was coming.

“Lover boy has looks,” Ricky said with some surprise. “Too bad we’re going to be marking up those delicious shoulders.”

Snapping into a wolf, Beck howled. They could barely restrain him as he shifted form after form, searching for something that could break free. Nothing was small or big enough.

The first blow cracked loudly through the space, freezing Beck in place for a horrified moment. Avery shuddered and went still, skin turning a violent red where he’d been hit. Nearly immediately, Beck threw himself back into frantic attempts to get between them.

Gone were the days when he could only manage a half dozen forms. He was a whirl of teeth and talons, fur and scales until Avery’s back was in ribbons and he was left as a fox, heaving with stress and fatigue, straining uselessly on the collar.

Blood decorated the floor, sharp and iron in Beck’s nose, and Avery wasn’t standing on his own. Ricky passed the whip away and went back to crouch in front of the fox. Beck could still see the teeth marks in his arms, but Avery had shed far more blood by now.

“Got it?”

Beck bared his throat.

[symphonic--chaos]

Always By Your Side

A little Marqueliot fic I wrote about the trio that should have had more time together because they’re angels. Margo’s got ice magic up in this bitch.

"Quentin, no!" Margo's words echoed through the clearing, desperation too late over Eliot's yelled 'Don't!', the third of their trio already stepping forward as his fingers moved quickly to form a less harmful offensive attack from magic they'd learned to protect themselves. The single blast of energy magic from the creature across from them prevented Quentin from finishing, his body caving inwards as he flew backwards, his body hitting a tree with a thud. Eliot was quick to move next, his own fingers tutting up a defensive shield when Margo could only stare in shock at Quentin's unconscious body. "Margo, we need to go now." Eliot's voice whimsically called back, his calm demeanor wavering to betray the panic that was brewing within him as he kept his eyes on the ‘woman’ in front of them.

Straggly black hair framed a sickly looking face, pale, skin taut. Her eyes glowed yellow, a strange white smoke or fog was coming from her mouth whenever she exhaled, along with the quick flick of a forked black tongue. They’d looked at each other, bewildered, as this was a human-like creature that they’d done nothing to and none of them could identify. They’d simply been walking through the forest and into the clearing to get to Fillory when she’d sprung out of a tree at the edge of the field and come sprinting at them. "Q, hey, baby, come on, wake up." Margo said as she knelt beside Quentin, shaking his arm gently before patting his cheeks to try and get those eyes to open. "Wake up, please wake up, we gotta move."

A movement in their peripherals caught her attention and she swore as she realized there was another figure coming towards them, his hands wielding a power that burned blue like his companions. Time seemed to slow as she realized his focus was on Eliot and the female, that she and Quentin meant absolutely nothing to him right then and there. Margo's eyes swept the area as she tried to find a way they could get out while being encumbered with carrying Quentin. "Holy shit... El, it's a nest! It's their fuckin' nest!" Margo called to him as she watched the glowing eyes from the thick of the trees across the way, too short to be like those attacking them. Quentin stirred and groaned behind her and she looked back at him briefly as her hand moved out to touch Eliot's shoulder as he backed towards them with the shield magic barely holding up against the barrage of energy magic the female creature was throwing at them. This led to their downfall, as the female's mate moved in with her distraction, bee-lining it for Eliot to distract and break the shield. "Watch out!" Quentin's voice wavered from beside them as he struggled to push himself up from the ground, wincing from the pain emanating from his back. Margo turned her head quickly and yanked Eliot back, the male barely missing her best friend and stumbling past him, only to wheel around swiftly and crouch, ready to strike again. Margo moved in front of Eliot with no hesitation, her fingers already moving with the first step as she recalled everything she'd read before. Even though she recommended book after book in the scifi and normal fiction section to Eliot, there were a massive amount more in the Brakebills library that she'd read during free time, including spells. The ground began freezing beneath the male creatures legs, icy tentacles weaving up his feet and calves, soon immobilizing his knees and thighs as he let out a confused and enraged screech. Margo's hands were shaking, she was terrified of Eliot and Quentin getting hurt more, terrified that anything could happen to any of them. "Get Q and get a head start, I can run faster if I'm not helping with him." "I am not leaving you here alone with them." The protest was firm and she knew Eliot meant every word, even Quentin's voice chimed in after. "I'm okay, I can manage, let's all just go, okay? Look, it was just a mistake, we didn't mean to walk into your nesting area, okay?" Quentin looked at the creatures, not even sure they would understand what he was saying, but judging by the female's face, they weren't going to accept an apology. Eliot worked quickly on forming another shield as the male began struggling, the female watching between he and Margo as if she expected him to break free any moment and attack them. A single call from the treeline nearby, sounding like a mix between a birds cry and a hiss had the female in a protective stance again. "Oh, fuck me." Margo muttered as the ice around the male cracked, Eliot yelling for Quentin to run as he moved forward to help shield Margo so she could stop trying to keep the spell climbing. A single blast of the females energy hit the shield, the male hurtling his body at it, distracting the two enough that Quentin's yelled second warning was too late, fangs of the female creature sinking into Margo's arm. Margo shrieked in shocked pain, ripping her arm away and lifting her other in a fist, swinging it to send a right hook directly into the female creature's jaw. "You bitch!" The hand that swung immediately went to cover the fresh wound, Quentin moving in front of her as he sent hit after hit of the missile battle magic they'd learned. Eliot soon dropped the shield as he watched Margo stumble back, her hand moving to her head, the dizziness clear in her face. One final hit to the female had her spiraling back, the male running to her side as he hissed at the trio, his body stance over her fully defensive. Quentin kept his hands lifted, ready to fire again if needed, but his steps carried him slowly back towards where Eliot was now holding Margo up bridal style. "I think they're poisonous, we need to get her to Brakebills to see if Lipson can help her." Eliot said, his voice wavering as he pressed his lips to her forehead when she whispered his name, her body soon going limp in his arms. ~~ "Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you... gotta keep dreaming, leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams whatever they be..." Eliot's voice was soft beside Margo, the faint beep of her heart being monitored to her other side. A slight shift of her hand had it moving away from whatever it touched, her eyes parting just enough to find out it was Quentin's hair. Her fingers moved out again to brush through the brown strands as best as she could, her other hand soon squeezed by Eliot's fingers, which had been wrapped around them for a while judging by how clammy her hand felt. "You're not allowed to scare me like this, Bambi. I need you. We both do." Eliot said softly as he lifted Margo's hand to his lips, pressing his lips to her knuckles. "Listen, El," Margo rasped out, her brows furrowing at the state of her voice. "Was I snoring?" "Uh huh." "Mouth open?" "Like a fish out of water. A beautiful fish." Margo's face scrunched up as she smacked her lips and swallowed a couple times, her tongue and mouth dryer than the Wandering desert. Her head fell towards Eliot, still heavy from whatever drugs were being pumped into her right arm, her left brow raising slowly. Maybe. Or it wasn't and she probably just looked ridiculous, fuck if she knew. "What's a bitch gotta do to get some water and chapstick?" Eliot's laugh was like music in the mostly silence of the room, the chair silent on the floor as he slid back enough to grab the pitcher of water on the table, pouring her a glass and bringing it back. She sipped from the straw as he held it, taking another sip or two until the glass was gone and she took a deep breath, leaning her head back, her eyes closing for a moment. A light, slick pressure on her lips had them peeking open, Eliot was standing now and carefully applying chapstick to her lips, then to his own. "That was real warm..." "It was in my pocket." "Wait, can I have some?" The two turned their head to Quentin, who had apparently woken at some point and was now looking at the chapstick in Eliot's hand like a puppy that wanted a treat. Eliot nodded and leaned across the bed, applying it on Quentin's lips as well before pressing a kiss to his forehead and leaning back. "I'm sorry if I made you both worry, but I wasn't letting that Fillory freak hurt you, El." Margo finally finished her previous attempt of an apology, both hands now taken by Eliot and Quentin, the latter's chin lightly resting on them- he still looked exhausted. "How long was I out, anyway?" "Almost a week." Eliot said hesitantly, opening his mouth to speak again, but Margo had already started and was lifting her head, which wobbled around like a toy before falling back against the pillow. "Almost a week?! Oh, that Voldemort bitch is dead for biting me." Margo's voice was low as she glared up at the ceiling, but Quentin brought her attention back down as he rubbed the spot where she'd been bit. "Lipson was able to stop the spread of the poison, but we actually had to have some of the medics from Fillory come. I guess the poison was a lot like rattlesnake venom, only... Fillory rattlesnake...people." Quentin's eyebrows furrowed before he gave a crooked smile and squeezed her hand. "But you're back now and they said it shouldn't scar much." "Not that I wouldn't rub some shea butter on it for you, you know. As your best friend, that's my job." Eliot chimed in and stood, deciding to climb onto the bed and lay with Margo, her arm shifting slowly, carefully, around his shoulders. They stayed that way for a minute before Margo turned her head and looked at Quentin, almost expectantly. "Well? You coming up here too?" "Oh, I mean, I just thought because of the IV and the medicine that-- I just don't want to--" "Shut up and get up here, Q." Quentin's lips formed a small 'o' before he nodded and moved up carefully onto the bed, mimicking Eliot's position of laying on his side, his arm soon moving out to lay over Margo and partially on Eliot's side. Eliot's arm slung over as well, a gentle squeeze given to Quentin's side. "Thank you both for saving me. Thank you for... really being the best friends a bad bitch like me could have. Yes, even you, Q." Margo knew Quentin was looking up at her in that cute, tried-to-hide-it surprise that he normally did, which faded away into a soft smile at her confirmation. They'd been close since their threesome and, as much as Margo tried to deny it, she liked keeping Quentin close, too. He was a good person to be around, he had a good heart and strong feelings- he fit in just right with she and Eliot, who shared the same personality. They were often separated from Quentin, but they were a force when put together, and they were all grateful and had nothing but love for each other. "Nap time?" Eliot asked as Margo tried (and failed) to suppress a yawn, successfully triggering Quentin into yawning as well. "Nap time," the two said in unison.

[indomitablemegnolia]

Had a night terror.... I wrote it out... and how I wish it was ended.

Flashes of fear, oxygen trapped, unable to leave my lungs, I am unable to draw any more air in; panic mingled with pains brutal edges, a horrible malice cut through my consciousness. Disorganized and frantic, I can't move; I panic more looking for danger, knowing it's there; figments, fragments of past terror. I can even smell the rank body odor feeling it singe my nostrils; my arms penned to my sides. I can't run, I can't scream, my heart breaks again and again, the cold broken shards dig into my numbed flesh.

I am trapped inside my own body, the pain of the struggle with my own paralysis tearing my muscles from bone; my brain is fractured, panic, the will to run, but my legs cast in stone, running isn't a possibility; my eyes cloud over, as if a giant dark figure had come and sat on my chest. Horror compounded with the terror, it was real there was a man holding me down; I couldn’t scream. I am going to die; air still trapped. Uselessly, I try to reason with terror, recounting, my broken thoughts; what man, where; that man, pinning ne down wrapping a scarf around ny neck, pulling; my mind, my thoughts a disaster, a train wreck; broken mangled memories, scarf now tighter around my neck; I am left, left to bleed on the asphalt, a victim. Tears running down around my temples, coursing like a river. Stop.

I pull myself back; focus, fear is the mind killer, stop; I press my my lungs to expelled the air trapped my eyes beginning to flash at the edges, lack of oxygen does that, as it coursed out it accumulated into a sob. My lithe words have abandoned me, what, what, all I am left with, left alone in an emotional mine field. Victim, damn dumb, stupid victim; there is no shadow; I close my eyes for a long moment opening them, no there wasn’t; there is no man, no scarf; you stupid girl. My mind so disassociated, I still can’t even work up an unpanicked breath,I am panicked I sob; my breath passing fast over my lips.

A nightmare; yes nightmare, that’s right, it was a nightmare that woke me, but truly more than a nightmare, less than a dream, more a reality revisited.  I come fully awake with an iron clad knot deep in my belly; the cold hits, my skin raw, slapped, shivering and anxiety coiling like thousands of snakes under my skin; I am frightened to the core. Air and screams trapped, captured; in my throat; my throat was raw sore, strangled screams damaging my windpipe as I choked on them. I breathe in through my nose for a twenty count; out for ten, my lips pursed. A cold eerie silence is what greets me on the other side of that total wakeful barrier.

Petrified I lie still, as flat as I can, willing the tremors and shakes to abate; slow my arm moves, it feels hundreds of pounds, swiping the cold sweat from my brow, but I can never wash it from my soul. The trick of the subconscious, when defenses are down, allowing all those fears, losses, grotesque experiences surface, those visitations from the past sneak back up to the top of my brain, I suffer the scourge yet again. Caustic emotions are only thing simmering on the top of my soul, as I surface completely from a night terror. Sometimes triggered by the date, an action or phrase but always it affects. 

I leaver up, taking an eternity to make it to my elbows; Once sitting up I swing my legs over the edge of the bed holding my head in my hands, still trying to stop the shivers that rack my body; counting breaths, counting heartbeats; ten, three, fourteen, six; go placidly amid the noise inside your skull; AH! Jesus, shit, shit, shit, shit; god I wish I had a cigarette; oh, for that matter I wish I smoked; a maniacal laugh escapes; no I am still not in hell, no one laughs in hell, right?

I push myself up to a standing position, it takes me long minutes, moments in a floating limbo to find my legs; they were shaky, wobbly, I used the wall to balance myself, I walk in a slow shuffle, my feet never leaving the surface of the floor. Just sliding along, like a ghost of gumby, a little Imhotep two-step, mummy shamble; I snicker; oh, sweet lord, again this isn't hell, no one laughs in hell; pathetic, I know, but it is as sure as I can muster with my blood pressure still high; I start out my door, the cold tile another reminder I am alive; I jumped at the shadow of a branch moving on the window, nearly dropping to my knees; I fought so hard in the land of nod, that I'm exhausted, soul tired, muscles screaming and nearly flaccid; I felt as if I climbed 9000 stairs.

Jesus, making my way down the 6 feet if the hall to the bathroom was glacial.  I don’t even bother to turn on the light I just lean heavily against the sink, run cold, cold water from the tap and splash my face.  The dark circles of unshed tears under my eyes encompass my face. I try to wash these memories away, but since they are scars on the very core of my soul they just taunt me as they loudly remind me, Fate lends her voice to the chorus, “I am there, an there is nothing that can protect you; it was me that fed you to those men, it was Life that never came to rescue, even your Terminus was no release. You are mine to bat around, to toy with, nothing will ever protect you; I wait stealthy still waiting for any break in your armour. I am right there beneath the water’s surface, tentacles waiting to wrap around your ankles to drag you under the surface again and starve you of your oxygen, taking solace, any happiness you may ever have.”

I close my eyes, splashing that cold water on my face, drenching my hair, my shirt; I let my soul scream, trying to cover the taunting, a long loud piercing scream, the kind that will echo through the universe reverberating off of every harmonic alcove without ever leaving my mouth. I open my eyes, I flinch, I almost run, but then I recognize that it was Life... hmm or Terminus, whatever, as if I needed him, now, there he is, himself, called by the keening need in my soul to not be alone, not right now, not this moment.  I sag against the sink grateful that the universe sent me what I needed.

He looks me over; a small ghost of a smile haunted his lips when he took in my oversized Rancid t-shirt and tall striped socks.  I practically felt his gaze caress the small bit of bare skin from mid-thigh to knee, the feeling comforting rather than leering.  I look at him behind me in the mirror, his face at first smiling, rumpled slightly in confusion as he surveyed my face in the mirror, the dark circles and lipid eyes not escaping his intense scrutiny.  His gaze kept traveling until they locked on mine. His piercing gaze delving deep in my soul, my memory, finding without too much bother because it was still skimming across the surface of my mind, what it was that was tormenting me so.  He saw what I saw, his face contorted as he knew what I felt, the full night terror, the suffocating, the paralysis; he saw my panic attack, the figure, the taunt, the absolute terror.

Then he saw what fed the night terror, my attack; I was not meaning to be that open with him; I knew it was Terminus. He saw my shame. He saw the head trauma, the multiple violations, the twisted arm, broken finger, my screams silenced by the seat of my car as they pressed my face harder and harder into the rough fabric.  It always amazed me that he could read my life like cliff notes just staring into my soul, but after all he was Terminus.  I watched his face, shame engulfing me as he saw everything. He watched them rob me, rape me. His face reddened, his eyes sparked with an angry red fire in those beautiful green pools.  That classically granite jaw hardened into a perfect symmetric block.  His nostrils flared as his anger rose.  I had never seen him angry.  He was always sweet, cocky, taunting, and assured, but this, this was megaton level angry. He was barley containing it, the kind of anger that could level cities in seconds.  He saw them strangle me, my scarf wound tightly around my neck, then leave me for dead. He looked away, literally turning his head away. 

I looked down into the sink, splashing my face again. I felt his hand on my shoulder, he caressed my shoulder softly; he dried my face. Then his hand hooked behind my knees, arm around my shoulder. He lifted me easy, walking me back to my bed; laying me softly in place, wrapping the covers around me

I watched his every movement, avoiding his face, enjoying the attention; he moved soft, his body stiff, arms returning straight at his sides, his long wide knuckled fingers balled in fists, the fury reverberating from him was palpable. Finally I was brave enough to look into his beautiful face shaking as he slowly let a breath out between his tight lips, he sucked in a deep cleansing breath through his nose.  I hung my head, shaking his head as I closed my eyes, I must have sniffled.  I opened my eyes looking back at him; sure he will never come back again.  He gave me a side long glance, but what I saw stilled my breath.  His anger grew in intensity now instead of fire I saw rock hard, crystalized anger.  His eyes, instead of the warm sea glass as usual, were glittering vacant angry sapphires, dark and dangerous.  His brows a straight dark line across his forehead with one small crease midway between them.  His eyes wide, still searching mine, exactly for what I don’t exactly know, those beautiful crinkles I so adored erased.  His lips drawn taught not a hint of a smile near them. His glorious jawline solid, slightly cocked. I wanted to look away drop my eyes to my hands on the edge of the pillow, but I refused to flinch. 

I gathered my courage and looked straight into his eyes, his soul, I stopped breathing.  What I saw there wasn’t directed at me, he was righteously indignant for me.  I saw an arch angel staring back at me, and then he was gone. A kind of shameful grief filled me that I hadn’t ever known, I was sure that it was the last time I would see Life, himself.  Lord In heaven I would miss him. I crawled back to bed and passed a long dreamless night.

@writernotwaiting @keeper0fthestars @pedeka @iamhisgloriouspurpose @anastasiaoftheironwood @sweetfairy1 .