#They even think being ungrateful is a sign of maturity

[riverthebooknerd]

trigger warning for ableism towards autism ahead, as well as shitty parenting

signs that your kid isn't autistic, they're just "quirky"

they have a hard time talking to their peers. they just need more practice, they're shy.

they spend all their time obsessing over something, like books or a certain video game, or some other hobby. that's why they don't socialize! just take the distraction away- that'll force them to make friends!

they flinch at loud noises. don't worry, the fire alarm isn't that bad. none of the other kids are freaking out, after all! your child just needs to get used to it.

they hide in their room during family reunions. they must just hate seeing their grandparents. tell them to come out. they might still hide in the corner, so you'll have to drag them onto the couch.

they're a picky eater. this just means that they're ungrateful for the food you provide. make them eat it anyway. tell them they can't leave until they do. you're just looking out for their health. they won't be able to be this picky and childish when they're an adult. there are starving kids in africa, you know.

they throw tantrums over nothing. don't be afraid to discipline them. they've got to grow up sometime, after all. they need to suck it up!

they keep moving their hands or rocking back and forth. they're just a bit odd, is all. it's nothing to worry about! make sure that they don't do it in front of company, though! you don't want guests to think that you're raising a broken child.

they stop talking sometimes, especially when you're trying to have a conversation about what they're doing wrong. again with the childishness. i'm talking to you, stop ignoring me, do you want to be in even more trouble? you're acting like a baby, giving me the silent treatment, real mature-

they ramble on and on, or interrupt people when they're talking. they're just so rude, you've got to teach them manners. don't they know that no one cares what they have to say?

they resent you for no reason! after all the trouble you went through raising them. you're their parent, don't they know that they're being selfish? they're such an irresponsible child, so immature. they can't talk that way to their mother-

what do you mean, autism? you're fine. you're normal. you're just being dramatic. i've seen kids with autism before, and you're nothing like them. stop wasting my time.

[nanasparadise]

Love letters from the Stardust Crusaders (yandere, gender-neutral reader, everyone lives AU)

Summary: A year after the battle in Egypt, you receive a letter from one of your fellow crusaders, who has been too clingy for your taste...

TW: spoilers for Stardust Crusaders, toxic relationship, implied stalking, implied burglary, threats, implied age gap (Joseph), mentions of violence, hints of cheating, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

Disclaimer: I don’t speak Arabic, so if I did a mistake, please forgive me! And don’t be afraid to correct me (in a polite way), help is appreciated!

Jotaro and Kakyoin have been aged up!

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life. 

Dear Y/N,

It's been quite some time, huh? And yet, I still can't get you out of my head. I know, what a surprise for little old me, I should be forgetting instead of remembering. But lately, I've been thinking about Egypt and every tiny detail of our journey, especially the ones regarding you. You truly are unforgettable...

How has life been treating you? I've heard you're doing well, at least financially, and I'm glad to hear that. You know I'd always treat you if you needed it, you just have to tell me. There's no such thing as too expensive for me when it comes to my darling.

I've also been told you're in a relationship. Well, congrats to that lucky one. I hope they enjoy you while they can.

You must be thinking 'Mr Joestar, how can you say such things?'

It's just that it's the truth, I'd never lie to you. I'm aware that you rejected my advances back then, but I can't do this anymore.

I can't wake up every morning to a woman I don't hold love for anymore, not when I know you're out there. If our trip taught me anything, then it's that life is unpredictable, and so is death. And after being on the brink of the latter, I've realised that if I have an opportunity, I need to seize it. And with you, my love, there is one.

You find a plane ticket to New York City attached to this letter. Please, don't be a fool and take heart as well. I really would love to discuss our future relationship in person. After all, I can't wait to see that cute face of yours again.

Oh, and just a quick reminder in case you choose to ignore my offer: I have many sources ready to keep me updated, honey. One way or another, we will meet, I'd just prefer it if it were on friendlier terms. You know I like to be a nice guy, but don't assume my kindness for granted. And I'd hate it if you had to learn that the hard way...

See you soon, pumpkin.

Joseph Joestar.

Y/N,

If you weren't such a stupid bullhead, I wouldn't need to write a letter. I hate this corny shit so much. Yet, you leave me no choice.

Not answering to my calls? Not sending me any sign of life? Just cutting me out of your existence like an ungrateful brat? After I've saved your life, that's how you want to treat me?

Good grief.

You're the first person I've ever opened up to like that. It feels like shit to be this vulnerable, this intimate. Especially when you call me creepy after all my efforts.

Do you think it's fun that you always invade my thoughts? I can't concentrate on anything else anymore. And your little ignoring game isn't helping me one bit, you’re just adding fuel to the fire.

Of course I constantly need to check on you when you're that ridiculously weak. Seriously, you would have died the first minute an enemy Stand user had attacked you if it weren't for me. Your Stand is just pitiable.

Giving you my protection is the best thing that could happen to you. Despite Dio's death, there's still so much evil out there. And it's not a fucking crime to look after your loved ones, even if you want to paint it that way.

So pick up your damn phone the next time I call or you'll witness the full potential of my power. I don't mind being rough if it means to grant your security in the end.

Kujo Jotaro.

Cher/Chère Y/N,

Isn't a letter just the most beautiful way of communication? You know that I'm a big romantic at heart, and what is more intimate than a love letter?

Being back home after our adventure can only be enjoyable to a certain degree if I'm this lonely.

It's spring again and not only do the blossoms sprout again, but so does love. Everywhere in Paris I see so many couples strolling around the Seine and I can't help myself but long for you. Wouldn't it be nice to share a tender kiss with you in the City of Lights? This thought alone makes my heart flutter and my cheeks blush.

You've told me before multiple times you'd prefer to stay friends. Mon amour, why not give us a chance? I know your heart yearns to be with me, you just need to give in. You don't need to be acting shy around me, you know I'd do anything for you in the blink of an eye if you just showed your true feelings towards me.

By the time you read this letter, I'm already near you to finally take you back in my arms where you belong. Isn't that sweet? And I know if I hug and kiss you just long enough, you'll see that we're meant to be together.

Ton preux chevalier,

Jean-Pierre Polnareff.

My dear Y/N,

As I was closing my shop today, I couldn't resist the urge to do a Tarot reading about us. It was as if the cards were singing your name.

I couldn't believe my eyes when the two cards that fell out were the Star and the Lovers.

I know you always doubted that a relationship could blossom between us, but if even the universe tells us to create a new start as a couple, who are we to deny that?

The events of our journey left me pondering. I remember when in a life or death situation, you told me you would have loved to explore Egypt with me under different circumstances. Why not do it now? I'd show you all the wonders of my home country, everything you want to see, you'll have it in the palm of your hands.

My habibi/habibty, if you wish to not see me in Egypt, I'll come to you, then. I've been waiting for so long to meet you again, yet it hasn't happened. You might not understand now that it's the best for us to reunite, but I do. I know that I'll protect you with my life and will offer you my loyalty, just like in the past. I'll be the one on whom you can lean on, no matter how tough life might be. I've already proved that to you more than once during our adventure.

And that's why you need me. Even the universe agrees with me.

Until we meet again, my sun.

Muhammad Avdol.

To my darling Y/N,

Have you changed your address again? It seems my previous letters were left unread. But that's alright, I made sure this one will be hand-delivered to your new home, somewhere you can't unsee it.

I miss you.

I miss seeing your smile again, how it lights up the room and the hollowness inside me.

I miss looking at your face, how it changes into every expression. The photographs of you sleeping are dreadfully static.

I miss touching you, how you react to my skin on yours. Even if you flinch away from me, it's better than nothing.

I need to see you again, really see you, not just observing you from afar. How am I supposed to continue living after everything we've been through without your kindness and company? I thought I could go back to my initial solitary state, but no. Not after having met you.

So please, return to me, Y/N. Don't ignore me again.

After all, you can't get rid of me. I know how to enter your new home, too. Doors and windows are awfully easy to open if you have a Stand like Hierophant Green.

Your dearly beloved,

Kakyoin Noriaki.

[julietascinnamonroll]

I would like to request PepaXfem!Reader but make it like Mrs. Robinson and Reader is Dolores’ friend who visits Casita all the time, even spending the night sometimes and Pepa is beyond smitten for her, including but not limited to having a surprisingly strong desire to have sex with her (this doesn’t have to be detailed in any way, but I would appreciate it being acknowledged and adding significantly more guilt in Pepa for having these feelings as well as having actual romantic feelings for her daughter’s best friend)

You are My Sunshine

Pepa x reader!

—————————————————~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Dolores had been best friends since you were 5 and she was a year older. Just as your mother and Alma had been, way before you two were born. Every so often, she’d drop you off at la casa Madrigal, to have play-dates with Dolores. You got along pretty well with the rest too, especially Mirabel and Camilo. Pepa, would take care of you every time you went, gave you your favorite snack, arepas con queso, took you and Dolores for a stroll around town, and loved you like her own. Whenever someone had hurt her girl, she would scare them with her lightning and thunder, and they’d run crying for their mommies.

As the years passed by, you were growing older, maturing into a beautiful, young lady, with the cutest smile, and biggest heart. One day, you decided to prepare special gifts for the Madrigal’s as a thank you, and because your mother reminded you to never come empty-handed. You were more than glad to make them gifts, as you really wanted to show them your sincere appreciation to them for everything they’ve done for you.

You pack the gifts into a big bag, and carried it along the way. You pass by Julieta’s food stall, but it read “Closed. Still making more batter. Thank you!”, not knowing why, you walk even faster, and soon the casa starts clearing in the distance. You walk up to their doorstep and opened the door without knocking, it seemed rude, but they’ve told you countless times you didn’t need to, because you were already family to them.

“Hola tiá Julieta!”, you greet the brunette, who had been doing just what her sign said, making more batter. “Hola Y/N! What’s in that bag of yours?”, she raises an eyebrow in question. “Oh, haha, this?? Well, stop mixing first, and I’ll tell you!!”, you squeal in excitement.

“I’ve made gifts for you! And here’s yours!”, you hand out a blue packaged present with her name on it. “Huh?! Y/N, what’s all this for??”, Julieta trying not to seem ungrateful, was confused at the sudden gesture. “Well, since you asked, I made gifts for you, well, I mean all of you! I wanted to show my appreciation for everything you and your family’s done for me!”, you say with the brightest smile that could light up a whole room. Julieta proceeds to open the gift, and she doesn’t believe her eyes.

“OH MY GOSH! IS THIS-“, she interrupted herself and threw herself onto you, giving you the tightest squeeze. It was a new apron, though it was a similar color to her old one, she still appreciated it very much, she’s needed on for quite some time now. It may seem simple to a lot of people, if not everyone, but to Julieta, it is that special. She held out her spoon to your mouth and told you to lick it, though that came out weird, you wanted to eat it anyway. You lick the spoon and continue what you were going to say, “Haha you’re welcome tiá! I’m glad you like it! Now where’s Pep-“, the red-head’s thunder storming through the house startled you both.

“Ahh! Pepi! What’s wrong??”, you call out to her, calling her the nickname she preferred from you, as she didn’t quite think you calling her plain old “tiá” anymore, suited you.

“Y-Y/N?! What are you doing here?!”, she asks angrily, while the nimbus cloud is still hovering over her head. “Well, nothing too fancy, but I made you something! Here”, you hand her a teddy bear, and at first the sky cleared a little, but when she saw that her very name had been embroidered onto it by you, a rainbow went beaming over and beyond her head. “Y/N- OH MY SUNSHINE!! Mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah!! Thank you!! I appreciate it, dear!”, she began planting kisses all over your now red face, at least it hid most of your blush from the kisses that woman gave you.

You hug Pepa, and that sends her into a whirlwind. “I’m glad you like it, Pepi! I need to find the rest though, be right back!”, you slowly pull away from the hug, to go find the other family members.

After giving them their presents, they all embrace you, and thank you as well, for being an amazing friend and part of their family.

You get back to the kitchen, and saw Pepa crying on the floor. You went just a tad bit closer, when she hit you with a bolt of lightning. “Ow!! What was that for?!”, you yell in pain.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, cariño! Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to! Look..clear skies..clear sk-“, she tried to apologize, but then again, you had to interrupt her. “Pepa, you don’t need to mask yourself from me, I’m here for you..it’s alright..just tell me, what’s wrong?”, what you hadn’t known was that the red-head had caught a truly “not ok” school-girl crush on you, and she couldn’t tell you, as there’d obviously be consequences.

“I-I..”, she stammered, not completing another sentence. Julieta chimed in to protect her sister, “Hey, Y/N…thanks again for the presents, but uh..we think you should go for now..you can come back another time! I’m sorry..Pepa’s just under the weather..not literally either”, Julieta said with a crooked smile, but an obvious frown overtook it.

“O-oh…um..you’re welcome..! I’d best be going..bye tiá..bye Pepa..!”, you walk out with tears in your eyes, Pepa lightly smacking her sister’s arm for making you go like that.

“W-what did I do wrong?! Argh…you’re so stupid, self”, you slap yourself on the face.

A soft hand bluntly grabs yours, “Y/N..I’m sorry..please come back”, as much as you wanted to, you were afraid to be anymore trouble, so you just shrug her off and run as fast as you can.

A few days pass, and Pepa is very worried about you not returning, no letters, not showing up in town anymore, she could only feel guilt deep within her heart. She came looking for you that day, you weren’t there, and soon she realized her true feelings for you. It was more than just a “school-girl” crush, she was already in love with you, but she was afraid, afraid to tell you how she felt, as it would probably make things worse.

She shows up at your house, and you open the door. Your eyes widen at the sudden sight of her, and you want to slam the door in her face, but you knew you just couldn’t, not after all those years she has been with you, allowing you to play and hang out with her daughter, you just couldn’t do such a thing.

You jumped on her and hugged her tightly, almost making you two topple over. “Haha..I’m sorry for running away, Pepa. I-i just didn’t know what else to do when guilt swarmed within me”, you stop for a moment and look down at your feet.

“Oh my dear Y/N..how could I have ever let this happen?? I’m so sorry!”, she cries softly in your arms, and then it hits you. You only then realized how much she meant to you, and never wanted to let her go.

When she finally told you how she felt, you were again too stubborn and denied every single feeling you’ve ever felt for that woman. She then hurts deep inside, wishing she’d never made it obvious.

“Pepi, I’m sorry, I really do..love you..but what’s keeping me away is, well, my fear”, your cheeks redden, and she stares at you fondly. “There’s no need to be afraid, Y/N..i’m right here, and I’ll take care of you”, she caresses your cheek and strokes your hair back. “I wanted to tell you how much you brighten up my day when I’m feeling low, or get me up with the sun in my eyes..I love how naive you are, I love the blazing fire in your eyes, ever since I was little, every time you cared for me, I’ve always looked at you with more than just admiration, I just kept denying it. I’m sorry Pepi..”, your voice shakes as the words buried deep within your chest finally lifted, and the heavy weight was gone, at last.

“Y/N..I was afraid of how I’d possibly change your friendship with my dear Dolores, and she loves you very much. I loved every moment we danced together under my rain, and how at ease you made me feel. I am so grateful for you, Y/N. Sometimes I even drool when your around, and my underwear just gets so wet, I can’t control it”, her legs trembling and tightening, you knew just what you had to do.

You pulled her in for a deep kiss, which turned to more than just a kiss. She took you to her room and loved you just as she wished to all this time. She ‘s glad that even though this was very sudden of you to do, you still showed her just how much you loved her.

“Pepi, you are my sunshine, and you always will be.”, you peck her cheek one last time before leaving. “Bye, Mi amor! See you for dinner tomorrow?”, she calls you her love, and all you could do then was blush profusely as the woman waved goodbye.

“You bet, Mi vida! Adíos!”, your eyes locked once more before you turned away with that embarrassing smile of yours. Leaving Pepa that day, was difficult, but you’d be back tomorrow anyways, with another surprise😉

Hope this matched your request more @hotdiggitydammit <3

[minaslittleone]

Fission & Fusion (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: How did the refined and proper Wilhemina Venable end up working for two coked-up tech bros out of the back of a van?

An origin story of sorts, dedicated to the amazing @lucyintheskywithxanax who has developed such a beautiful and nuanced depiction of Mina. This was inspired by her incredible story “And I failed to climb the mountain”.

Word count: ~2500

Professor Thompson was not surprised that she had to go searching for Wilhemina the following evening. Part of her had hoped that the young woman would have been waiting for her, a sign that she was allowing herself to accept the genuine support proferred to her. That was not to be. It was only natural, she supposed, as she made her way through the concrete wasteland that served as the hotel's parking lot, that after a lifetime of being belittled and dismissed, of being told she was nothing but a burden, that Wilhemina would find it difficult to accept help. To even believe that the offer of help was genuine.

The older woman shook her head as she raised her her hand to knock on the door indicated by the disinterested girl working reception. The world, and people, really could be so cruel.

When her initial knock went unanswered, she tried again slightly louder this time. Again she was greeted by only silence.

"Wilhemina." she called out, as she knocked for a third time. "Wilhemina, it's Professor Thompson. Can you let me in dear?"

In the beat of silence that followed, she could feel Wilhemina's indecision - her pride balking at the idea of reaching out to accept the tender care that her heart so dearly yearned for. For now, pride relented.

There was a jangle of keys as nervous fingers fought against the lock and deadbolt. The door eased open a crack to reveal Wilhemina, shoulders curled in on themselves, head bowed, face obscured by a curtain of red hair and supporting a significant portion of her weight on her cane. Her form fitting dress from the previous day had been replaced by black leggings and a loose fitting faun jumper which dwarfed her slender frame, sleeves extending well past her wrists where her fingers toyed anxiously with the cuffs. As the older woman eased the door slightly further ajar she couldn't miss the way Wilhemina flinched, obviously uncomfortable with any kind of physical proximity.

"Wilhemina?" the older woman coaxed. Glassy brown eyes peaked from beneath swollen lids, tentatively meeting her gaze. As she did her long hair shifted just enough to reveal the array of grazes decorating her right cheek and temple, chronicalling the previous night's events like braille across her skin. Wilhemina fought against the instinct the pull away as the older woman gently lifted her hair to inspect the damage. And as much as she hated allowing anyone to bear witness to her weakness she couldn't help but wonder when she had last been touched with such tenderness.

And maybe that was what gave her the courage to recount the events of the night before, those soft, caring touches that spoke more than words ever could, that whispered insistently that she deserved so much more. From the grinding weight against her fingers to the sickening crunch of her skull on the concrete, the smell of stale alcohol and tobacco, and the taste of dispair as calloused fingers rifled through her book bag and located the money that was supposed to be her lifeline. And more than all of that, the shame of laying sprawled out on the concrete unable to move.

Eventually the sound of the steal capped boots had disappeared into the distance, apparently deciding she wasn't worth any further humiliation. You're too ugly even for that, her mother's voice cooed. Slowly, she had managed to lever herself from the ground, bracing herself between her cane and the wall. Her trembling fingers had finally managed to overcome the lock but all too late. She stumbled across the threshold, collapsing onto the bed, curling in on herself in a futile attempt to prevent any further pain.

Professor Thompson's fingers were back at her cheek, tenderly chronically the array of scrapes and bruises that were beginning to blossom across her pale skin. How hard had she hit her head? Did she lose consciousness? Does it hurt if I push here? Any blurred or double vision? Any other injuries? Her hands? Her knees? Her back? No. All just bruised, like her ego, and her heart.

Wilhemina remained fascinated by the cuffs of her sweater throughout Professor Thompson's assessment, fingers picking at small imperfections in the fabric. By the time she raised her eyes the older woman was already moving busily around the room collecting her meagre possessions into her discarded book bag. "Have I missed anything dear?" Wilhemina could only shake her head dumbly in response though her confusion must have permeated her features for Professor Thompson quickly added "If you think for one moment I am letting you stay here on your own Wilhemina, after what happened, you are very, very mistaken".

The older woman slung the sum total of Wilhemina's possessions easily over her shoulder, before extending her hands to the younger woman to help her to her feet. And for once Wilhemina felt no pity or judgement in the gesture, only genuine care.

It felt good to let go for a moment, she thought, as she allowed herself to be escorted to the older woman's car. To hand over the reins, even if momentarily, to someone who genuinely had her best interests at heart. She had always been independent, self-sufficient, mature; garnering praise from countless adults for how grown up she was ever since she was tiny. There had been other words too - bossy, control freak, frigid bitch - a need for order and precision in the small parts of her life that she could control. But she was so tired after trying to hold it all together on her own for so long. Because in reality she wasn't in control at all.

Wilhemina jumped as the driver's side door opened, having not really registered that Professor Thompson had disappeared, let alone returned. The older woman shot her a sympathetic glance in apology for having startled her before starting the car and pulling out of that god damn parking lot.

Not long after she found herself seated at her professor's kitchen table, a warm mug of sweetened tea once again pushed into her hands whilst the older woman cooked. She managed to only feel slightly guilty about that. The room reminded her a lot of the woman herself, no frills and practical but with an undeniable warmth, full of mismatched crockery rather than complete sets, as if each piece had been hand picked for its bawdy colour or intricate pattern. Like her office, Professor Thompson's home seemed a little worn around the edges in the best of ways, it spoke of memories and a life well lived. From the rings on the wooden table from endless hours of conversation over tea, to the dings in the plaster from exhuberant grandchildren the house could not be further from the modernist sterility Wilhemina had become accustomed to.

The next thing she knew a steaming bowl of stew was being placed in front of her and the older woman was joining her at the table. "I hope you don't mind, dear, I know it's nothing very fancy" the older woman added as Wilhemina stared fixatedly at the bowl in front of her. Don't be so rude you ungrateful idiot. "No of course not, it's smells wonderful, it's just that I don't think anyone has ever cooked anything for me before. Thank you."

The older woman paused at that, spoon left resting against the side of her bowl. "Surely your mother did, at least?" Wilhemina scoffed at that, the very idea of Fleur Venable undertaking a task a menial as cooking was almost amusing. "No, my mother never had much interest in cooking, especially when she could pay someone to do it for her." A wry smile passed over the older woman's face "Maybe I should have listened when everyone told me to go into private practice rather than academia, it certainly seems to have worked out well enough for your father. Though I don't think I would have found much contentment in commercial law, I don't think I would have been particularly fond of spending my professional life making rich people richer."

"I don't think it brought my father much contentment either, though that might have been living with my mother" Wilhemina muttered, drawing unapologetic laughter from the older woman. After that the meal was finished in comfortable silence.

Wilhemina was about offer to help with clearing the table when something fuzzy brushed against her leg drawing an embarrassing squeak from her, which she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to muffle. "Oh it's alright, my dear, it's just Miko. Hello my sweet boy" the older woman cooed to the grey tabby cat rubbing affectionately at her ankles. "Oh I know sweetheart, I missed you too."

Miko, seemingly satisfied that he had greeted his mistress appropriately, took that moment to return his attention to Wilhemina, who's anxious gaze flicked between the cat and his owner. "Oh I'm sorry my dear, you're not allergic are you?" the older woman asked in response to Wilhemina's obvious apprehension. "No, I'm just not very good with animals" Wilhemina replied as Miko began sniffing at her ankles.

"He likes it if you scratch behind his ears" the older woman suggested.

So, slowly, Wilhemina allowed her right hand to unfurl from it's safe home in her lap downwards towards the inquisitive feline, or at least as far as her spine would allow. Miko craned his neck upwards to bridge the gap, first sniffing at her fingers before quickly beginning to nuzzle against them. Hesitantly Wilhemina began to trail her nails along the cats scalp, concentrating her ministrations behind his ears as his owner had suggested. She was rewarded by purrs of contentment, as Miko nuzzled into her hand with increased vigour. She couldn't help but smile at that.

Soon after Miko raised his front paws onto the bottom railing of the chair in an effort to get closer to Wilhemina, and began nuzzling into her thigh in earnest.

"What is he doing?"

"Oh don't worry, dear" the older woman replied. "He's just saying that he likes you. Well I suppose to be more correct he's transferring his scent onto to you to claim you as his, just in case any other cats get any ideas."

"I don't think anyone has ever claimed me as theirs before" Wilhemina whispered, fingers still threading tenderly through Miko's fur.

"Well Miko certainly has and so have I" the older woman replied, "and we both happen to have excellent taste."

Wilhemina could only reply with a small, trembling smile.

"Now come on dear, you've had quite an eventful few days and I doubt you slept much last night"

Wilhemina nodded and allowed herself to be escorted up the stairs towards the guest room, Miko following closely on her heals.

The room which Professor Thompson showed her to was already bathed in warm light from the bedside lamp and her book bag had been placed upon the quilt covered bed.

"Now the bathroom is just across the hall, dear, and I've put out fresh towels for you. If you need anything during the night my room is just down the hall, ok?"

"I'll be ok, but thank you" Wilhemina offered the older woman a shy smile.

Professor Thompson made to leave for the night before turning back unable to stop herself. "Forgive me asking dear, but haven't you heard from your parents? Surely they must be worried where you are?"

Wilhemina did not share her certainty. "I haven't checked my phone." Perhaps childishly she didn't want to check, because until she did she could cling onto the slim hope that maybe her parents did want to know where she was.

"You should check, my dear" the older woman coaxed. "I'll give you some privacy, but I'll be downstairs if you need me"

"Actually" Wilhemina blurted before the courage abandoned her, "would you stay?"

Professor Thompson took a seat on the bed beside her as she rifled through her book bag for her cell phone. One missed call. She almost couldn't believe it when her father's cell phone number blinked back at her on the LCD screen. With trembling fingers she retrieved the voicemail.

"Wilhemina, I understand that your mother can be difficult but surely all this fuss isn't necessary. If this was about making a point, you've made it, you can stop with this childish fit and the two of you can discuss this like adults. Honestly Wilhemina, you know I don't have time for this right now, the McMahon case goes to trial in less than a week, I have better things to be doing with my time than be refereeing some petty squabble between you and your mother. Just sorted it out."

Professor Thompson killed the voicemail halfway through the pre-recorded list of options, they certainly didn't want to listen to the message again.

"I'm so sorry, dear, I shouldn't have pushed you to check."

Wilhemina shrugged. "If I'm honest with myself, I didn't really expect anything different. I just hoped that maybe, I don't know..." she sighed. She did know, she had hoped that for once her parents would show ounce of love and affection, or even just anything more than apathy. Anything to indicate she was more than a burden or the fulfillment of a tickbox in the game of life.

"You would have thought that by now I would have stopped getting my hopes up" Wilhemina muttered, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

"Never" the older woman asserted. "You get your hopes up because you care and you have such a capacity for love, which makes you so much more than either of them will ever be."

She reached up tenderly to wipe the tears from the younger woman's cheeks, careful to avoid to avoid the dark purple bruising now staining her right cheek.

"Besides, their loss is my gain and you have a place here for as long as you need it"

[dogbearinggifts]

I saw you mention in an ask that Diego spotted the abuse they underwent first. In what order and how do you think each of the kids came to the realization of what their dad put them through? They all obviously are still reeling from everything years later and it was EXTRA apparent during the light supper.

The light supper did many things, but the one thing it did most of all was show just how deeply he damaged these kids. Here they are in their thirties, meeting with a man who doesn’t know them yet—and even though they’re all completely on edge, guards up, expecting the worst, they’re still blindsided by how low he stoops just to gain a slight edge. 

But I digress. Here’s how I think each one of them came to realize Reginald was abusive, and the order in which I think they realized it. This is mostly just speculation on my part, so I could be wrong, but I like to think it’s an educated guess. 

Diego: Watching his dad give Luther nothing but praise while he received nothing but criticism fostered a good deal of resentment in him, but I think it also led him to see that something was very wrong much sooner than some of his other siblings. See, the torture they endured seems to have happened behind closed doors—Vanya losing her powers, Klaus being locked in the mausoleum, whatever awful things he did to Allison, Ben and Five in the guise of making them stronger—but the verbal abuse Diego went through happened out in the open. It had to. Reginald wanted to goad Diego into pushing his own limits to beat Luther at a game neither of them could win. To do that, he needed make them both aware that there was a competition, that Luther was winning and Diego was losing, and that all of the other siblings knew the score. Being locked in that dynamic meant Diego was constantly, painfully aware that no one else had to deal with Reginald’s constant nitpicking—but also that no one else was lavished with praise the way Luther was. Even to a sheltered kid who’s allowed few friends outside the family and limited freedom to leave the grounds,  that treatment is visibly wrong. Diego might not have been able to call it abuse as a teen, but I think seeing the blatant discrepancies between how he and his siblings were treated—plus his legendary stubbornness—kept him from internalizing it for too long. When Reginald used Ben’s funeral to shame them all, that was probably the moment Diego began seeing him not as a bad parent, but as a monster he needed to escape.

Vanya: Like Diego, she was treated differently from her siblings. Unlike Diego, I do think she internalized it to a degree. We see her taking up the violin in an attempt to impress her dad (“I’m going to be extraordinary”) and her visible dismay when Reginald says “I’m afraid there’s nothing special about you.” Even as an adult, after years on her own, she sends Reginald a copy of her autobiography. It’s possible this was an attempt to get him to see things from her perspective, but it’s equally possible she sent it to him as a means of saying “Look, Dad, I wrote a book. I got it published. It’s on the bestseller list. Be impressed, you asshole.” Part of her wanted to impress him, and part of her believed that if she just tried a little harder, she could do it. Although she recognized that her treatment was unfair sometime in or prior to her teen years (we see her protesting Reginald’s refusal to let her be in the family photo) the part of her that wanted to earn his favor probably kept her from fully embracing the idea that she was not responsible for how she was treated. That said, I do think she’d realized Reginald was the problem by the time she moved out, and she probably began calling him abusive once she either read up on abusive relationships or learned about them from her therapist. Learning that there was a word for what she endured, and that no decent person considers it okay, was probably strangely comforting and empowering all at once. 

Klaus and Ben: After Ben’s death, they almost certainly began talking more. Ben would’ve had to witness Klaus’ burgeoning addiction spiral out of control, and he wouldn’t have let it happen in silence. Maybe his resentment festered shortly after his death; maybe it came years later. Whatever the case, I think that when Ben began arguing with Klaus over his drug habit, Klaus pushed back—and eventually, this pushback led to him spilling details of what led him down that road. “He locked me in a fucking mausoleum when I was just a kid” probably stunned Ben into silence for a few hours at least—and also reminded him of the things Reginald forced him to do while he was alive. Maybe they started trading stories to empathize with each other; maybe they traded them to one-up each other. Whatever the case, I think that as they learned they’d both been effectively tortured by their own father, they both began to realize how twisted their childhoods had been—and that they were not to blame for it.

Allison: While her reactions during the light supper prove Reginald terrorized her as much as he did the others, we also know she used her power to get whatever she wanted. Parental abuse is damaging to everyone, no matter who you are; but abuse from a parent you can manipulate is a little easier to endure, and it’s much harder to recognize that something is wrong when you can buy yourself a respite—or at least a few material things to ease the pain. She had an advantage the others didn’t, and I think this advantage kept her in denial, believing Reginald might not be so bad after all, if he gave her all those nice things and didn’t complain, until Ben’s funeral. Watching Reginald use her brother’s death as an opportunity to berate and shame them for something she knows wasn’t their fault makes her angry and hurt enough to stand up to him, despite the derision this earns her. I think that day affected her pretty deeply—maybe even more deeply than her siblings. Ben’s funeral was probably the day she realized there was nothing redeemable in her dad after all and that she had to get away for her own safety. Once she was out on her own, I think she sought out books on bad parents—starting with survivor memoirs, empathizing with the narrators more strongly than she expected, then branching out into self-help. She probably read the signs and checklists over and over, just to make absolutely certain her experiences counted as abuse and she wasn’t just being dramatic and ungrateful.

Five: If he hadn’t gotten stuck in the apocalypse, I think he might have been one of the first to realize Reginald was abusive. But because he spent the majority of his life in a world much harsher than the Academy (which isn't to say the Academy wasn’t harsh, but no one had to eat cockroaches to survive it) his memories probably took on a rosier hue. A place with a solid roof over his head, where he was guaranteed clean clothes, companionship, and never had to wonder where his next meal was coming from—after starving out in the open and talking to a mannequin, Five probably thought more than once that he’d never argue with Reginald again if it only meant a return to those comforts he once took for granted. This longing, mixed with self-loathing over his stupidity at getting stuck, probably led to some self-blame over how Reginald treated him, if his “I was too hard on you” to Reginald during the light supper is any indication. He realized Reginald was abusive at some point (probably after some heated arguments with Dolores) but I think he’s also gotten it into his head that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed at the time—not as bad as growing up in the apocalypse, at any rate.

Luther: Not only did he stay in the Academy well into his twenties, but he put his own safety on the line, nearly died in service to Reginald’s goal—a goal he’d fooled himself into thinking was his own—and when the man who endangered him, mutilated him, and shunned him exiled him to a hunk of rock floating in space, he still blamed himself. While he took a major step forward in the latter half of S1, placing the blame for his pointless Moon mission on Reginald (where it belongs), I think his jump into the sixties caused him to regress a bit. I don’t think he forgot what Reginald did to him, but I do think he assumed that Reginald might be kinder in his younger years. Maybe he thought parenthood made him less patient or—more tragically—that something he and his siblings did turned him into the kind of man who would shame his surviving children at their brother’s funeral. I think he believed that if he could just talk to his dad before all of that happened, he’d be welcomed with surprise and joy, pulled into a hug and asked about all he’d accomplished. While Reginald’s rejection shattered him, I think it also, in a sad and twisted way, freed him. Luther learned, once and for all, that Reginald simply hated children. Reginald’s callousness and outright cruelty wasn’t due to anything he did—it was the result of taking on parenthood out of a sense of obligation, resenting it every step of the way, and lacking the emotional maturity to avoid taking it out on kids whose only crime was dependency on him. The fact Luther didn’t believe it until he heard it from the man himself speaks volumes about the control Reginald still had over him, even after his lies were laid bare.

[daughterofanarcissistwoman]

SIGNS THAT YOUR MOTHER IS A NARCISSIST

• She wants to control you.
Trying to assert yourself results in anger, rejection and hostility. She doesn’t appreciate your attempts to individuate as it means you are going to be less available to serve her needs. Does she get angry when you disagree or don’t want to do what she wants you to do? Does she try to make you feel guilty for having separate interests, hobbies, desires and opinions?

• Her love is conditional.
A mother who is narcissistic is interested in how you (and your achievements) reflect on her. She wants you to succeed, but only so that she looks good. She may even become jealous if she feels you are doing too well. Daughters of narcissistic mothers will often be perfectionistic in a misguided attempt to win their mother’s love.

• She can’t or won’t validate your feelings.
There is very little room in her emotional consciousness for your feelings. If they do something that upsets you, narcissists generally won’t be prepared to acknowledge their mistake or soothe your upset. They are too focused on trying to manage the shame elicited by your implied criticism. She may sometimes be there if you need support, but most often she will turn it around so that it becomes about her. For example: “That reminds me of the time...” “You think you have problems, I remember when...” “I can’t listen to you when you’re like this, it upsets me...” “I do/have done everything for you, why can’t you appreciate it, you ungrateful...”

• She belittles you.
A narcissistic mother will be full of praise in one moment, hypercritical and judgmental the next. They can make your head spin! A narcissistic mother knows where it hurts. She will often use sarcasm or belittling language to humiliate you, perhaps in front of others. She may fob off your concern with excuses such as “can’t you take a joke?”

• She tries to manipulate you.
The manipulation can be quite subtle, causing you to question your doubts and fears. She may call you “selfish” because you don’t want to be her maid or chauffeur 24/7. Being afraid to say no to her because you fear her disapproval or anger is definitely not a good sign.

• She’s unpredictable.
Narcissists often wax and wane in terms of their attention and availability. She may shower you with affection and attention (love-bombing) when she wants something from you and ignore you when she is going OK. Her ability to care about you is dependent on her own needs rather than any genuine commitment to you as a separate and autonomous being.

• She can’t see your point of view.
In general, narcissistic mothers will be unwilling to understand or even acknowledge your point of view. She may ignore, belittle or undermine you, often using manipulation or guilt-tripping to get her way.

• She’s emotionally volatile
Narcissists are often emotionally unstable, swinging between cold rage and collapsed fragility depending on environmental cues. Mothers with these characteristics have very low self-esteem underneath their bluster and will become teary or desperate if they meet ongoing resistance.

In our early life, we need to think of our parents as perfect. As we mature, we can slowly encompass a more realistic picture. Parents who are narcissistic, will inevitably traumatise their children. They neglect and emotionally abuse them and use them to serve their own needs. These experiences are usually far too challenging for young minds to incorporate.

So you split off parts of your attachment experiences. These traumatic experiences are not remembered directly and most survivors of narcissistic parenting will only recall them in the safety of a supportive therapeutic relationship, if at all.

You may have few memories of the bad things that happened or of the emotional abuse you suffered at the hands of your mother. As an adult we sometimes hold onto our precious fantasy of the perfect mother, because that is much easier than seeing the painful reality.

But as you mature and reflect on your lives and relationships, you find chinks in the armour, flaws in the perfection. Your mother isn’t the lofty being she appears to be.

A narcissistic mother is flamboyant, powerful yet somehow fragile. She is so self-absorbed she has no time for her children, except where she can bask in their reflected glory, or when they can serve her needs. A narcissistic mother is a dangerous damaging parent who impacts and distorts a child’s growing sense of self.

- Reclaim Your Authentic Self by Dr. Amanda Robbins

[ibijau]

Deathbed Wedding - Epilogue

During a conference in Qinghe, Nie Huaisang and Wen Chao meet again (also on AO3)

and a big thanks to everyone who read, liked, or reblogged this <3

Wen Chao had only been allowed to come to that discussion conference in the Unclean Realm so he could present proper apologies for that accident a few months ago. He had done so when Nie Mingjue had welcomed them, albeit he'd been rather reluctant and insincere, since he still couldn't see how any of that was supposed to be his fault. He wouldn't have apologised at all if his father had firmly ordered him to behave, lest he be sent to meditate on a mountain for the next ten years. Wen Ruohan had looked like he meant it. Apparently the other sects were not at all happy with Qishan Wen, just because their kids were a little useless and couldn’t handle a decent Night Hunt.

Even after being warned like that, Wen Chao had escaped as soon as he'd been able to. Mostly because it was so uncomfortable to be in the same room as Nie Mingjue, and have to bear with his furious gaze, but also because conferences were so boring. He had easily found a equally bored teenagers willing to listen to him and his tales of glorious Night Hunts. They were either too young or too unimportant to have ever been invited by him before, which annoyed him. But since his usual crowd now ignored him and preferred to pay attention to the conference itself rather than to hang out with him, those people would have to do. 

After all, they were all suitably impressed when he started describing the Xuanwu of Slaughter.

“Is it true that someone died?” one boy asked in a trembling voice, the youngest of his audience.

Wen Chao grimaced at the question. The two deaths of Qishan Wen disciples had been hidden fairly well, the families paid well to never bring it up again. Sadly a boy from another sect had perished as well. The sect in question was small enough that they didn’t dare complain too loudly, but they were close to Yunmeng Jiang and apparently had complained to them. Such things couldn’t be completely silenced, and it annoyed Wen Chao that people pestered him about that.

Before he could think of something to answer, a voice rang next to them.

“Several people died, and many more were wounded. It’s dangerous to seek glory alongside Wen gongzi.”

Recognising the voice, Wen Chao gritted his teeth and turned around to greet Nie Huaisang, while the other boys with him gasped upon seeing the second master of Qinghe Nie.

It shocked Wen Chao to see him. They hadn’t met since that accident. In fact, Nie Huaisang hadn’t been there to welcome guests to the conference earlier, just as he had been notably absent from all major events from the past half year. Wen Chao had just been annoyed he would have to give a second apology later when he'd meet him, and hadn’t wondered much at that absence.

Seeing Nie Huaisang, he understood why he might not have wanted to show himself in public. Scars were always a little unusual on cultivators. Anyone with a decent cultivation level would see most wounds heal without a trace. That made it particularly impressive to look at Nie Huaisang’s marked face, the right side of which was covered by a deep scar from forehead to chin, with a black eyepatch in the middle. The clothes he wore covered his skin perfectly, but Wen Chao had seen him be grabed and crushed by the fake Xuanwu, and he could guess that there had to be worse marks yet on the rest of his body. The idea of such scars made him shiver in disgust.

Still, Wen Chao quickly recovered from the shock and smirked.

“Nie gongzi, can you really complain when it’s my Night Hunt that got the husband of your dreams?”

“I can complain and I will,” Nie Huaisang retorted, glaring at the other young man with more heat than he used to allow himself. Now that he didn't need Wen Chao's Night Hunts, he wasn't bothering being nice anymore. How ungrateful. "Wen gongzi, if anyone is stupid enough to follow you after what happened, that's their problem. At the same time, I won't have you recruiting kids for Night Hunts in my own home, not when there's no knowing how many of them will return next time." 

Wen Chao shrugged, unconcerned. That reaction only sparked Nie Huaisang's anger who impulsively started rolling up his right sleeve to reveal his naked arm, marked by yet more scars starting at the elbow and above, and showed it to the boys. 

"That's what happens on Night Hunts with Nie gongzi," Nie Huaisang announced coldly. "And if you think I was unlucky or clumsy, I can tell you about the extremely skilled young masters who were wounded. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji nearly lost their lives, and their talent can't be doubted. Even the three boys I had to watch die where very competent. Still they died, all because Wen gongzi didn't even know what sort of a monster he was making us hunt." 

The other boys gasped in horror and admiration. In an instant they all left Wen Chao's side to crowd Nie Huaisang and ask him questions about his wounds. Having somehow not anticipated that turn of events, Nie Huaisang looked very awkward for a moment. Not so awkward that he couldn’t glare at Wen Chao in warning though, and Wen Chao, with uncharacteristic wisdom, took it as his chance to leave. The second master of Qinghe did not scare him in the least, he told himself. But to anger him was to make an enemy of his terrifying older brother as well, and Wen Chao wasn't stupid enough to want to make an enemy out of Nie Mingjue.

-

While Wen Chao scampered away to safety, Nie Huaisang tried to handle the group of very enthusiastic juniors hounding him. They all wanted to hear more details about that dreadful Night Hunt, and wanted to know how he had survived. Above all, they wanted to have a better look at his scars, and to see how far they extended.

Nie Huaisang tried to answer the questions to the best of his capacities, while ignoring the morbid requests to see his scars, which he was still uncomfortable about. Some days, he couldn’t bear to let even Lan Xichen look at them. Only a very great cultivator who'd have fought the strongest of enemies would have scars, or those so weak even good medicine couldn't help them. Nie Huaisang knew in which category he belonged.

Even just the questions were quickly exhausting him though. This much time had already passed, but he was still recovering from what had happened, and he tired easily. Aside from those closest to him, he had mostly kept away from people during those last few months. His brother had even granted him permission to stay away from the conference, but when he had happened to pass by and he had seen Wen Chao with these other boys, he’d had to intervene.

Even if Wen Chao hadn’t meant for this to happen, it had happened anyway, and Nie Huaisang wasn’t a forgiving person.

“Could we see the talismans Wen gongzi said you used?” one boy asked, the one who had been most insistent about Nie Huaisang’s scars. “Could you give me one to copy?”

“Those are dangerous,” Nie Huaisang snapped, feeling a headache coming. “Did you listen to what I said about how dangerous they are? Do you want to end up with a face like that as well?”

“But I’d be careful! Nie gongzi, please show us!”

Suddenly, Nie Huaisang felt very sorry for the way he’d pestered everyone in Qinghe Nie after being told he needed to improve his cultivation. If he had been even half as annoying about it, then it was a miracle that his brother hadn’t strangled him just to shut him up.

“It’s a Nie technique,” Lan Xichen calmly said behind them. “And so it would of course be impossible to teach it to strangers. In fact, to ask at all could be seen as rather rude.”

Nie Huaisang, who was feeling the early sign of a terrible headache push against his skill, smiled upon seeing his husband nearby, and felt himself relax instantly. Without being asked to, Lan Xichen came to stand next to him and wrapped one arm around his shoulders to pull him closer, then turned his attention back to the assembled boys.

“I understand these conferences might not seem very interesting to you at your age, but they are important nonetheless,” Lan Xichen gently scolded, never losing his smile. “You came here with your parents or your sect leaders because they judged you were mature enough to learn something from it. You should repay that trust by staying with them and being attentive to what is happening, instead of escaping and looking for easy amusement.”

Even though none of them knew him, the boys all looked as stricken as if they had disappointed their own elder brother. They mumbled some apologies to Lan Xichen, thanked Nie Huaisang for chatting with them, and returned to the hall where the conference was happening.

As soon as they were alone, Nie Huaisang sighed heavily and leaned a little harder against his husband’s side.

“Thanks for rescuing me, Xichen.”

“You looked like you needed it,” Lan Xichen remarked, pulling him a little closer. “I thought you were just taking some papers to Meng Yao, what happened?”

“Wen Chao,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He sighed again. Then, struck by an idea, he pouted as pathetically as he could. “I’m really so tired now though. Impossibly tired, and I have an awful headache. Husband, you should carry me home, I don’t think I can take another step even if I tried.”

Lan Xichen laughed, and gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Can’t you now? How tragic. I really shall have to carry you then.”

Before Nie Huaisang could tease and whine some more, two strong arms lifted him up and he found himself carried against his husband’s chest. A blush crept fast on his face, and he gasped in surprise.

“Xichen, I was just joking!” he complained weakly, grasping at his husband's collar. “You can’t do that, someone will see.”

“Then let them see," Lan Xichen retorted, starting to walk toward their house. “I don’t mind at all.”

“I do. Save me some face, put me down. Isn’t Wei-xiong here today? If he sees us, he’ll never let me live it down. You know how awful he is when he starts teasing. And you’ve been helping da-ge all day, aren’t you tired? Put me down, Xichen-ge, I’m not so bad after all, I can walk.”

Instead of giving in to his demand, Lan Xichen held him tighter and dropped a quick kiss on his forehead.

“Wei Wuxian has no right to mock anyone,” he said. “Not with the way he makes Wangji spoil him. I swear, if Wei Wuxian looked at the moon a little too long, Wangji would fly up and bring it down for him as an engagement gift. Compared to that, I’m very reasonable, A-Sang.”

Hearing this, Nie Huaisang couldn’t help laughing weakly in spite of the pain starting to throb against his skull. His friends had come twice to the Unclean Realm in the past few months, mostly to escape the very intense negotiations between Qingheng-Jun and Yu Ziyuan regarding the matter of their engagement. It was true that Wei Wuxian was quite shameless, while Lan Wangji was completely whipped. They were very funny to watch, really. Nie Huaisang had always found their clumsy little romance quite entertaining when neither of them realised what was happening, but now they were even funnier.

“Still, you must be tired,” Nie Huaisang insisted, lazily nuzzling against his husband’s chest and closing his eye in hopes it would help his headache. “Is it really fine for you to be carrying me like this? Poor Xichen-ge, forced to do so much for his husband, how exhausting it must be! And all for a spoiled brat...”

“I really don’t mind,” Lan Xichen happily replied. “I have the best husband in the world, how could I resist spoiling him a little when he makes me so happy?”

Nie Huaisang made an embarrassed noise and hid his face into his hand. He was glad everyone was too busy with the conference to hear this, or he would have been mortified.

At the same time, it certainly was pleasant to hear Lan Xichen still insist that he was happy with him. Those last few months hadn’t been easy after all, not with how slow Nie Huaisang’s recovery had felt sometimes. The physicians who were following his progress were still not sure he would fully recover from some of the damage he had suffered, and his looks weren’t quite as good as they used to be, which was a pity. His pretty face had always been his bed weapon.

Still, Lan Xichen said often he wouldn’t have anyone else, and Nie Huaisang had no reason to think he was lying.

“I’m happy too,” he mumbled. “Xichen, I’m really happy.”

Lan Xichen hummed in answer, and pressed another kiss to his forehead. In spite of his headache, Nie Huaisang sighed contentedly. 

He’d had a hard time with a lot of things since that Night Hunt, but with the way things had turned out, he really couldn’t regret what he’d done. He wouldn’t say so out loud of course. Lan Xichen always looked so sad when reminded he almost lost his husband, and Nie Mingjue still wasn't done scolding him over what had happened. But Nie Huaisang knew that if he were given a second chance, he’d do everything exactly the same.

After all, he’d been rewarded well for his efforts. He’d gotten some glory for himself, while at the same time there was no way he’d ever have to go on a Night Hunt again, which suited him just fine… and of course, he had his husband now.

He didn’t even mind the few drawbacks he had to deal with, because Lan Xichen was there with him, through good days and bad ones alike.

Life really didn’t get much better than that.

[octavi-nelle]

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

TW: S*icide, Death, Yandere themes, Abusive relationships, Toxic relationships, Abuse.

DO NOT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANY!!

𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒-

❥𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒

You were gone. That was the truth, and a cold, hard one at that. He was devastated and destroyed. Returning from his classes to find his prisone- I mean, partner, gone.

He was a wreck, grief following him everywhere he went. Was it his fault? No- it couldn't be, he was a perfect boyfriend. He fed you, gave you gifts, took care of you, and was kind- when you behaved. He if course had to discipline you, maybe- just maybe he went too far this time.

He didn't want to believe the truth, he didn't want to think that he was the reason you'd done it. He tried to push the thoughts to the back of his mind.

Would it be better if he joined you? Or were you happy away from him ? He hoped that you wanted him to join you. He wanted to feel you skin again, to be near your warmth. He wanted to lean into your touch, have you listen to his problems. Have you be there with him.

He would do anything to be with you again. Even if that meant death.

❥𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑

Leona was deeply upset, no matter how much he tried to seem prideful, it failed. He wasn't the prince he once was, he was more lazy than ever. He didn't have a reason to leave anymore, he couldn't see your terrified face when he'd return from class.

Everyone knew Leona was destroyed over the fact that his partner was gone, they'd left him.

Did they want to escape? He wouldn't let them. Not even death could help them escape his grasp, he'd find them in Heaven or Hell. They shouldn't worry for too long, he'd find them.

Predators always caught their prey, and once they did, they'd never let it go. It was the same with you, he'd find you.

And once he did, you'd come running back in fear. Besides, who'd miss the lazy second-born prince? Nobody, most likely. Even if they did he was aiming for you,nothing could get in his way.

❥𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎

Azul was angry, how could you leave him!? You were his. He made that clear when he'd captured you, did you think death could help you? You'd already signed your soul, even after death to him, stupid!

He could stare at your poor unfortunate soul all-day, he kept you inside a jar. Sure it wasn't as great as the real you, but it was still you.

He had the memories still, he didn't need to lose his calm and mature exterior. He still had you, he had your soul. He could still speak to you, even if you didn't answer.

Azul made sure that he would still have you, he knew something like this would happen. Azul is always a prepared man, he is a business man after all.

He can't afford any hiccups and won't accept and mishaps. So he wouldn't accept your cute but stupid attempt to escape him.

"Oh Y/N.. you won't escape from me, you poor unfortunate soul.." He ran his finger along the jar as he pressed his lips to it. It was you, your body or not, and that was good enough for him.

❥𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐋-𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐌

This couldn't be happening! He'd given you everything you could've wanted, everything that appeared in ones dreams! Not even Jamil could fix this, and frankly, he had to fix all things that Kalim did not like.

Kalim was destroyed, devasted, and depressed. Nobody could save that sunshine that used to be inside, no more parties nor trips were held at Scarabia. It rained every day, always gloomy like him.

Nobody could replace you, it didn't matter who his father introduced him to, it wouldn't replace you nor change what happened.

Kalim couldn't join you if he wanted, he had too many responsibilities. He had to try and move on, everyone told him this was just a bump on the road he was taking, but it wasn't. You were one he truly loved, the one he wanted to marry and make his Queen.

Were you not satisfied? He bought you everything he could've thought out, maybe it was him. Even if he hated the fact, it may as well have been the truth.

He just had to accept it, is shouldn't be hard right? It was the hardest thing for Kalim. Maybe he should just abandon everything that he had on his shoulders and join you.

He'd figure that out in the future, but for now he had to try and deal with what had happened.

❥𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐓

Damnit! Damnit! Who did you think you were! His precious doll, snatched away by death themself. You made his mascara run and ruined his make-up and hair. He'd get you for this!

Vil couldn't believe this, you left him!? He should've left you, you potato! He tried to tell himself that you were nothing, worth nothing more than the ground he walked on, you were nothing but a potato compared to him. But not matter what he said, he couldn't ignore the fact.

He couldn't ignore that you'd left him, that you wanted to escape from him, the Vil Schoenheit. It was unbelievable, even if he followers said that you were nothing, that you had just made the biggest mistake of your life, he just couldn't accept.

His make-up became ruined everytime he put it on, he cried and cried. It was hard not to, thank God he didn't pop a blood vessel, that'd be hard to get rid of.

He was the not beautiful being in this world, but he was his ugliest without you.

❥𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃

No, no, no, no, NO! This couldn't be happening, not to him, right!? Right!? The Ignihyde Dorm Leader was an absolute disaster, he was a walking nightmare. His life had become a nightmare.

He'd already cursed himself for being unlovable and a terrible person for kidnapping you, but now? Oh God, you'd taken your life because of him, he understood, or at least tried to.

He really wanted to wake up from this dream, from this nightmare. He tried to surround himself with things he enjoyed but nothing could help him.

The candies he ate from the games he spent countless hours playing continuously. He couldn't get you out of his mind, sure he'd held you captive, but come on! He didn't deserve this, right? He didn't deserve to feel something this terrible.

He just wanted to be with you, he wanted to graduate and have you and Ortho by his side. But he knew he couldn't join you, he still had Ortho to care for.

Maybe he'd try something new, something to bring you back. Anything for you, anything to have you in his arms again.

❥𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀

Malleus knew how short human lives were, so why did you end it so terribly short? Was it him? He wasn't sure what even happened.

He felt like something inside him just broke, like something had disappeared, vanished from him. Had you become a part of him perhaps..? He wasn't sure.

He wasn't sure of anything anymore, really. All he knew was that he wanted to run back into Lilia's arms and just have him comfort him. He wanted your arms, but Lilia's would do too.

He wanted to have your human warmth surround him again, he wanted to cuddle up next to you, even if you pushed him away. He wanted to feel your small lips peck onto his, he wanted to have you back.

Sebek had yelled and complained about how unworthy and ungrateful she was since they'd left the 'young master.' But all it took was one look from Malleus to shut him up.

Malleus wouldn't get over this, he'd make sure to find you again. No matter the cost, he'd find you, just you wait.

𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒-

✧𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

Haha.. funny joke, now please get up. Trey can't take this, sure he'd captured you to call his, but please, please wake up.

Trey will bake you anything you want, he'll even feed you, just get off the floor. Get out of your blood. He knew he shouldn't have let you in the kitchen. Too many sharp objects, too many dangerous weapons.

He'll let you go to class again.. just get up. He'll be the boyfriend he once was. He just wants you back. He wants your kisses and hugs again, he wants to feel your small body crash into his.

He'll make sure to find you, he'll bake you whatever you'd like. You name it, he's got it.

Don't worry, you'll be one again.

(sorry I'm not very familiar with him and had no ideas.)

✧𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇

What a surprise.. he usually enjoys this unexpected side of you, he's all for it. But this one isn't one he enjoys, at all.

Didn't you think about them at all? Come on, Floyd enjoyed your company as did Azul. And Jade loved it, why didn't you enjoy their company? Maybe you were just stubborn.

He mourned and grieved over your death, he tried to keep up his gentleman facade, but he failed at times. He especially failed around Floyd, and sometimes Azul. He wasn't the same.

Please come comfort this Eel again, let him enjoy what was once his room filled with your scent, that had you for him to come back to. Don't leave him alone like this.

He just wants you to pepper kisses all over his face, he'll take you hiking too if you'd like. He'll let you have a little sunlight too.

He has too many things to join you, he has Floyd and Azul, mainly Floyd. He wishes to just feel you next to him again, even if it's just silence, even if it just your body next to his. No words nor glances would be needed for him to know he's fallen again. Just come back.

✧𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑

Hey, answer him! He's your master now answer, why won't you even answer his Snakes Whisper? Y-you aren't truly dead, right? You didn't leave him behind right?

He's already had so many things taken away right off the bat, his freedom to do what he wants, his chance to be something greater than a servant, something better than this.

He promised he wouldn't get attached, that you were not his diamond in the rough. But you were, he couldn't help the attraction he felt, the love and desire towards you.

The one things he truly wanted was all his, but only for such a short time. He had his pride and joy snatched away, stolen like in the old tales of the Sorcerer of the Sand. How the Diamond in the Rough stole the lantern from him. Was this that? Was this how it felt to have something so important to you, something you craved, desired so deeply taken away from you.

Didn't you know how much he adored you? How much he needed you by his side? He's sure if you did you wouldn't have left him all alone like this.

But you did, that was the truth this time. One he hated so passionately.

𝐅𝐈𝐍.

Part two and three will come out later, I have reached max images. Sorry!

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Winter Whumperland Day 9: Planned

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 9. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 8 'Lucky'. The police aren't coming for him and he doesn't know if his friends or family even know where to look. With not just his own health and safety on the line, Hiccup knows that if he wants to escape, he wants to do it in a way that ensures Viggo can never lay a hand on him again.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Viggo

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 5 218

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “countdowns”, “running out of time”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Ah, another prompt that started out as a 2,5k something and has now become a 5k monster. And Day 12, at 6k, IS STILL NOT FINISHED YET! :'D

At the very least, it makes me curious to see what the final word count will end up being.

Anyway, here it is! The chapter that reveals both Hiccup's previous plan to escape as well as what he saw on the computer in Day 3.

Constructive criticism is appreciated! Including on the tags, because holy hell, they get more difficult with each one-shot!

Enjoy!

Ao3

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The police aren't coming for him. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the hope of being found by the people meant to find him seemed to slim with every morning he has to wake up next to Viggo Grimborn.

It's through Eret that Hiccup will find out that they aren't looking for him at all, that they've simply arrested the first guy they could conveniently get their hands on and called it a day. It apparently didn't matter whether they got the true culprit, or culprits in this case, or if they even find a body or not. Hiccup's disappearance is a closed case.

But before that life-ending trip in the mountains, well, life-ending for at least two someones, Hiccup has no idea what could be keeping the cops from finding him for so long. It's a disheartening thing. For all those tv-shows and movies about the police going through hell and back for the civilians they're supposed to serve and protect, Hiccup is feeling strangely abandoned.

And he can't see his friends ever coming for him, though he knows they must have surely looked. And his father, he's more the "let the right authorities handle it" kind of man, but he must've searched for him, too.

But if they have any idea where to look or how to go about helping him, he wouldn't have been here for as long as he has. His best hope of getting out of Viggo's clutches is to find a way out himself. Ironically enough, he means to break free through those authorities his father so relies on.

Hiccup could remove the watch, could somehow safely remove the shock band from his ankle he hasn't tried yet, take his prosthetic from the safe, take his clothes, take his cat, and then finally take his leave. He could go home, be surrounded by friends, tell everything to the police, ... and then what?

Give Viggo and Ryker the chance to destroy everything related to him and disappear? Allow him the time to make up an iron-clad tale about how Hiccup had run away with him? Having no idea his friends and father didn't know of his plan to run away until they were in too deep? And really, young people can be so crazy when it comes to love, he wouldn't be the first to run away for the sake of the person they think is The One.

And Stoick, such a big man, they've all seen how angry he can be on his first and last press conference. Viggo believed him when Hiccup told him his father was physically violent with him and just wanted to keep him safe! And he is especially bad when drunk. You can't blame a foolish man with too good of a heart for getting himself into trouble trying to help this young man out.

Besides having the money to get him the best lawyers money can buy, Viggo is also a master manipulator. Playing on Hiccup's need to help others to get close to him, earn his trust, and get to know him well enough to know which buttons to push to break him makes that clear to him now. Viggo can spin any tale he wants and Hiccup fears the number of people that will believe him.

He's seen it before, innocent people painted in such a bad light that they are bullied and ostracized to the point of disappearing, too afraid to come out and speak the truth any more. He doesn't want people to see his father that way.

It's true that Stoick has a temper, but against his son, he's never so much as raised his voice. He doesn't want Viggo to hurt his family, too.

Viggo is nothing like Dagur. Dagur was more like your run-of-the-mill obsessed stalker who believed that he deserved and needed a boy three years younger then him to fill the missing void his deceased parents left him with. He was a tragic product of his life, of loss he couldn't process. And if he can take Heather's word, Dagur has been putting effort into getting better.

Hiccup thought he knew what obsession looked like through him and so he didn't recognize the warning signs in Viggo.

Viggo, who doesn't have a tragedy that shaped him to be the way he is. Viggo, who is unrepentant in his ways, who doesn't care who he hurts or how bad. Viggo, who is so selfish and arrogant that he would rather bury a failed project six feet under and start over than ever admit defeat.

Hiccup never saw the warning signs.

"He swallowed up two hours of your time, Hiccup!"

His last conversation with Astrid suddenly comes to mind. Dagur demanded his time as well, but that's just it, he demanded it. Viggo was 'nice' about it in that he asked and then played on Hiccup's emotions without him realizing it to get him to say "yes".

A master manipulator. This is why Hiccup needs evidence if he wants him convicted. If it becomes a "he said, he said" kind of trail, he's already lost. And really, who'll believe him when he tells them Viggo... did things to him, a man.

And then there is another possibility that he's afraid of. The police not arresting Viggo quickly enough to keep him from coming back for Hiccup and doing gods know what to him in retribution.

At least that's something Dagur tried to do, too, when he heard of the restraining order placed on him. He was to be arrested for breaking it, for breaking it multiple times as a matter of fact, and he couldn't bear with that. Though in that case, Dagur had blamed Hiccup's father and his friends for keeping them apart and tried to convince Hiccup to disappear with him. It was the only way they could be together in his eyes, if they started over together somewhere far, far away. He completely blindsided that it was Hiccup who wanted that restraining order in place.

If Hiccup leaves the Grimborn mansion, he wants to be sure he'll never have to see it again. And he'll want to make sure he doesn't mysteriously vanish the second someone blinks. He doesn't want White Spot to inexplicably die from poison or from being run over either.

And, oh Gods, what if he's out there and he comes after Astrid? Snotlout? Fishlegs? The twins? The sanctuary isn't chock-full of cameras either, what if they manage to hurt Toothless in some way? Or pay someone to hurt Toothless? His father seems untouchable, but what about his mother? There are too many ways in which the Grimborns can get back at him and Hiccup would rather spend the rest of his life rotting away in that basement than let anything happen to them.

And that is why he needs to get onto that computer, why he snuck into the study while Viggo's at work and Ryker is sleeping off another hangover.

He's stolen the key to his bedroom and locked it from the outside. If he wakes up before Hiccup finishes what he intends to do, there'll be hell to pay. Wooden doors don't really stop a man like Ryker.

But who better to break into Viggo's computer than someone who knows his way around one?

Hiccup hobbled into the study using the crutch they'd provided him with, begrudgingly so on Ryker's part as Viggo sees it more as something they can take away if their guest is being ungrateful, and he sits down at the desk. It takes only a minute or two, but he manages to get past the password.

A breath of relief quietly leaves him, he's become a bit of a quiet person, and he sags.

Viggo better not see him, he disdains a bad posture. Hiccup can't even begin to count the amount of comments or "corrective slaps on the wrist" he's gotten for not sitting or standing up straight. At some point, when Viggo was particularly sick of Hiccup sitting slouched, he tried to buy him a corset so that maybe he could finally sit with a straight back for once.

But Viggo isn't here and Hiccup gets to sag. He can threaten him if he's not here.

At first, Hiccup isn't sure what he's looking for. Something illegal, for sure, but what? The party guests from the other day have given him the idea to try and look for something. Viggo's company specializes in import and export, surely, he has to have something shady saved on his computer. He has the ships and containers, he can take things in and out of the country without a problem.

Someone as smart as Viggo isn't going to look up "how to treat broken ribs" online, so it's not like it's as simple as looking up his browser history. Would he search and buy the medication needed to stave off pneumonia online? Drugs can be found on legal sites, he wouldn't even need to worry about turning any heads.

What Hiccup needs from this computer is virtual evidence, but searching for it isn't going to be a walk in the park.

Hiccup rolls his shoulders and adjusts his position in the chair, it rolling in place.

Sitting in this chair is difficult. He'd lean back, but he can't. And just sitting there isn't doing him any favors either. There are painful welts all over his back from last night's games in bed and that makes just about everything a little difficult for him.

He'd let Viggo do it. Because if he didn't it would happen either way and then it would be made so much more unpleasant.

So while uncomfortable as he possibly can be does he look deeper into this computer, doing everything mostly on a glimpse alone to get through it all quick. He can't afford to dilly dally in every file. And if he doesn't get this done, there will be many more nights of these "games".

Viggo isn't like most people, he doesn't have games or other files or apps he would deem unnecessary on his computer. Most of what takes up space on his internal hard drive is what he considers important. For him, that seems to be stuff that he's taken home from work and nothing more. And they're all fairly recent as the oldest file Hiccup has come across is a little less than two years old.

And then he clicks on something inconspicuous and a little window pops up and asks for a password. Hiccup raises an eyebrow, suppresses the need to comment on it, and quietly gets by this one as well.

Finally, after what Hiccup realizes has been a quick two-hour search, he's found something promising.

There are folders named with serial numbers that translate as dates to him and the many files within are also coded with numbers following that same date. The oldest one appears to be from a little over half a year ago, the hard drive has last been cleaned out then. Just as he thought, Viggo isn't a fan of leaving a trace.

He clicks on one of those documents and then another and another and another. Hiccup's expertise may not be with economics or Viggo's branch of work, but he is often smarter than people give him credit for. He can still figure out that what he's looking at is some seriously shady stuff. Everything from exporting fake goods to exotic animals and even drugs, no wonder Viggo is a rich, rich man.

So Viggo isn't just a criminal that kidnaps and abuses people, he's very into the black market, too. A terrifying thing, honestly. He's seen movies, he knows how these things go. So he turns his attention to a different crime he might be able to exploit.

Embezzlement, bank fraud, insurance fraud, forgery, just all kinds of fraud and all that gained him, and only him, money. And that, that can work in his favor. Because if there is something people don't like, it's when someone else is hoarding money. Especially if it's all garnered illegally.

taking his eyes off-screen for a moment, Hiccup strains his hearing to see if he can pick up any sounds inside the house. It's still quiet and that means Ryker must still be asleep.

So focusing back on the screen, he gathers as many of these suspicious documents as he can find and then searches for the e-mail app Viggo uses, which is the only one present on this entire device.

He pauses for one nervous moment as he clicks on it, grimacing and holding his breath, and sees that Viggo is apparently the kind of person who legs himself off after every use.

He's lucky. He can log on with his own address and log back off without drawing suspicion.

But then he realizes he doesn't actually know where to send all of these to and briefly does he almost panic.

He doesn't have a lot of time here and Viggo does sometimes have the tendency to come home unexpectedly to "surprise him".

Does he send all of these to the police of his city? Do police even handle cases like fraud? Surely, they do? And do police stations even have e-mail addresses to mail to?

Hiccup feels a sense of anxiety creeping up on him. He doesn't have a lot to work with and he realizes the chances of this plan working aren't big, it all boils down to a gamble. His freedom, it will depend entirely on whether or not they will check an e-mail from the outside or not.

But his chances are good enough, aren't they? His full name is right there in his e-mail, they're not going to ignore a message coming from "Hiccup Haddock", right? Even if they've given up on him?

He doesn't feel like he has much of a choice. It's not like he can put all of this on a USB, run away, and personally get it to the police. He can't even leave the house, not even to get into the yard! And even if he did, he'll run into the same problem of risking giving the Grimborns enough time to either disappear, hurt him more, or both.

So Hiccup swallows his worries, feeling like he can't do this if he lets his fears get to him like this. E-mailing the police will have to do.

To distract himself, Hiccup continues his search for more incriminating information. He's not going to fit all of it in just one measly e-mail, but the more the merrier.

On his search for more, Hiccup comes across another one of those inconspicuous folders like the others he's looked through. Though this one, for some reason, is titled differently. Instead of the numbers used with the other folders, this one is named "personal project".

Despite the name change, Hiccup is confident he can find more evidence in this.

The second he clicks on that folder, he regrets it.

There are photos instead of files in this one, a lot of them. Some are very compromising, sensitive, the kinds you'd only find on one particular site on the internet.

And they're all of him.

Some were taken before his abduction and clearly without his knowledge. Like someone had been hiding behind corners with a camera and followed him in his daily life. There are photos that come from online, he recognizes the ones his girlfriend took and posted with his permission, which Viggo has stolen without.

And then some were taken after his kidnapping and those are the worst.

Because these are so humiliating. So, so humiliating! Compromising positions, in several states of undress, from almost every part of his body, ... And to make matters worse, he can't remember any of these ever having been taken.

What he does remember? The many, many times when he would randomly pass out during his time in the basement.

Staring at the countless pictures, Hiccup feels like he's burning. The fire that eats him alive isn't made out of a physical flame, it's the shame burning him to a crisp. Like he's been soaked in gasoline and lit up with a match, like he might actually writhe and scream.

Before he can stop himself, he's crying.

He's not thinking of Ryker when he does. Hunching forward, his face in his hands, he sobs and hiccups and sniffs. He's not quiet about it either.

He had no idea these pictures were being taken, no idea at all. But here they are, staring at him in the face, mocking him. He feels so humiliated.

It takes him a while to pull himself back together again. He doesn't know for how long he sits there, bawling his eyes out, struggling to breathe. The weight of what's been done to him has come crashing down on him once more and now it feels like he's drowning.

He wants to delete these pictures and hope that Viggo doesn't have them saved anywhere else. He wants to throw the whole damn computer away just to be sure, take his crutch or something heavier and then smash it to bits.

But he can't. Because if Hiccup does get rid of them, Viggo might notice that they're gone when he revisits them. And he's going to notice a missing or broken computer and that'll mean the end of him.

So as horrible as it is, he has to let every single one of them be.

Or maybe he doesn't quite need to leave them alone.

Pure anger on his face and tears still in his eyes, a white-hot rage that he's unfamiliar with coursing through his veins, he faces those pictures again.

Viggo thinks he can just make these pictures without his knowledge, without his permission, without expecting them to be used against him?

Fine. He, too, can play that game.

Viggo and Ryker will rot, even if it's the last thing he'll do.

Even if it means he'll be drawing his last breath at the end of all of this, they will pay.

Hiccup adds them to the list of things he'll be sending to the police. He'll worry about how these will make him look later, right now he's not in the right mindset to worry. He just wants Viggo to face the consequences of his actions.

This is proof of some of the abuse he's had to suffer through thus far, it's proof that he's been stalked prior to his abduction, and it will only make their list of crimes bigger and therefore the time they'll be serving longer.

Or that's what he hopes.

The police station of his choosing has a neat little "send e-mail" in their contact info and that's what he clicks on. He clicks on it several times, each e-mail filled to the brim with incriminating photos and files and all send from his address. The black market stuff they'll hopefully find on their own. That is, if Viggo is apprehended too quickly to wipe his device clean.

Hiccup hits send on the last one and has to take a breath.

He's an exhausted mess, his sleeves are wet with tears and filthy with snot. He should get cleaned up before his "beloved partner" comes home.

But he allows himself a moment of sweet, sweet vengeance.

"Well now, Viggo, I hope you like living with a timer." Hiccup tells the man, though he isn't here. From the second he met the man to the night of his kidnapping he's lived with one, whether he realized it or not. Now Viggo gets to live with one for a change.

And hopefully, this one will run out a lot quicker than his did.

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When Hiccup ran away in the snow, Viggo wasn't expecting to be caught as quickly as he was, maybe there was a chance he wouldn't even be caught at all.

Wandering aimlessly in a forest with one foot broken, the other missing, and unprepared for the cold, the chances of Hiccup surviving at all were slim, to say the least. And that fishing town, they weren't close enough for someone familiar with the area to reach it in time, let alone someone who has never been there before.

But here he is, sitting at a table in an interrogation room in a police station. Not Port's as he's already been handed over to a different station. More specifically, he's been brought to New New Berk's.

But the agent standing opposite to him with a carton cup of lukewarm coffee in their hands, they're not from around here and that makes Viggo wonder what exactly he's been caught for.

Is it for fraud? Blackmarket dealings? But all of that information should be locked behind a password and he's been meticulous in what he keeps and deletes. he's even gotten rid of an entire hard drive just to be sure.

And yet, he knows Hiccup messed with his computer, he's caught him crying in front of the screen through a hidden camera. Though, he has figured by now that it meant he'd found Viggo's personal photographic collection of him.

It was amusing at the time. It served Hiccup right for sticking his nose in places where it didn't belong.

But that collection was protected, too, and so maybe Hiccup found more than just those photos. As a matter of fact, it might even be the most likely scenario. he regrets admitting to not thinking of Hiccup figuring out what he was looking at when he saw those hidden files.

But if it is only that, then maybe he can still get off with a relatively light punishment.

As Viggo is having his inner monologue with himself, Agent Mackle stares at him with a look the man can only call contempt. He finds the way the younger Grimborn brother is sitting there horribly arrogant. With his posh suit, polished look, expensive jewelry and accessories, straight back. The only signs of what might be distress are the heavier than usual bags under his eyes and the slightly frazzled hair, that latter is a feat with how short it is, and he only knows because he's seen pictures of Viggo before.

But it's not enough, not with a monster such as this one, and Viggo Grimborn has been a monster to many people.

They should be doing an interrogation, however, so they speak up.

"He was found, just so you know." Viggo looks up to the agent.

"Your brother. Dead, head split open with a shovel, you didn't even try to hide his body, did you? Bad enough that you don't care about laws and morals, but then not only did you decide to disregard human life, you also decided that your brother's wasn't worth it." Mackle starts, completely astounded by the lack of any feeling or remorse in one man. How much the victim must've suffered with him.

Or rather, victims.

On his own brother's death, the suspect doesn't have a comment and Viggo even looks away again, seemingly uninterested. Whether this is a ploy or because he truly doesn't care, Mackle finds both options agitating.

Viggo had been caught trying to leave Port to go back home, taking his luggage, and planning on taking his personal boat to get away. A messy escape for someone who looks like he prizes himself on his tactics and thinking things through.

But then, Port police also found his brother face down in a thin layer of snow in what was clearly meant to be a shallow grave, so something must've gone down that made the suspect want to pack up and leave in a hurry.

He hadn't even bothered to cover Ryker grimborn with a blanket or a tarp or anything, he just left him to be feasted on by foraging scavengers. What brotherly love there must've been between these two.

But oh, they do have something to say that might be interesting to Viggo.

"And oh, he was found, just so you know." Viggo, again, looks up to the agent, who sips from his cup. Except, this time he doesn't look as bored as he probably figures who they must be talking about.

"Hiccup Haddock, your little "pet project"? That's what you called him, right? He was found alive, despite you and your brother's best attempts at silencing him." There is a certain flavor to telling a criminal that they haven't succeeded in destroying a life. Well, haven't succeeded in destroying this one.

"And it's thanks to him that you won't just be charged with fraud and all that good stuff, but also multiple counts of kidnapping, murder, abuse, and, the most fun of all, all kinds of sexual assault. That's a long, long list Mr. Grimborn." Agent Mackle tells him, their disgust barely hidden. They're in their late twenties, maybe earlier thirties. Viggo can't pin an exact number on them.

He raises an eyebrow at the usage of "multiple counts", but he's not responding otherwise.

"I can already hear you think. How do they know? How can they arrest me for any of that with no bodies?" Mackle walks around, imitating how they think the suspect before them might sound as they pace, and then they face him again.

"Well, your last victim has a pretty good idea of where your brother buried your victims since you two were kind enough to take him to your murder cabin to kill him there, too, if, and I quote from Hiccup Haddock himself, he "didn't fall in line". He was kind enough to tell us in return." Mackle informs Viggo, making it clear they've been talking to him.

It worked for as long as it did because of the cabin's isolated location. It was on private property, which means people would keep away from that part of the forest. And kids, if they snuck on and saw something they were never meant to see, they would keep to themselves for fear of getting into trouble. Keep to themselves and very possibly repress everything they might've seen until it one day comes back to haunt and ruin them.

For effect, they lean on the table, cup still in hand.

"We've searched the property, Mr. Grimborn, and we're digging every single one of those poor souls up as we speak. We'll be making a lot of families happy this holiday." They continue.

"Well, probably not happy since their missing loved ones were found dead, after all, but they'll have close at long last." There is only a little sense of justice here. Viggo's arrest and sure to be punishment will not bring all those people back, but at least he'll finally be stopped. And it'll all be because of Hiccup.

There is still not a word from Viggo, but what did they expect? They have to suppress a sigh as they straighten.

"You were hard to catch, I'll admit that. We've recovered three of the bodies, so far. Their clothing, personal effects, and even physical traits helped us identify them. Let me tell you, we never would've linked them together." Mackle takes three of the case files he has on a neat stack on his side of the table and flips them open.

"There is no connection between gender, appearance, ethnicity, religion, and with your latest victim, no connection between sex either." He skims through some of the pages. There is even a "John" amongst those three.

The one thing they do have in common, though? Smarts.

"A med, student, a biochemist, an ambitious lawyer, and now an aspiring expert in draconic behaviors. A dragon whisperer if you will." Well, that is what the victim's closest loved ones have told them.

Closing the case files, they grab them and drop them back on the large pile of suspected victims, making quite the bang on the table. Viggo doesn't jump as badly as they would like.

"So tell me, how does it feel to know you were taken down by one of your pet projects? One of your many, many victims? I'm sure you thought you were smarter than all of them." Agent Mackle asks, hoping to finally break Viggo with at least one of these. All they want is a little crack in that stoic façade.

And finally, there is a response on Viggo's face, but not one they'd like to see. A smirk appears on his face.

"You ask me how I feel?" He asks and his gaze meets Mackle's.

"Hiccup and I know each other. The reason I could keep him under my thumb for so long is because I know him and therefore know where to push. I know how to get him to make certain sounds, I know how to make his body react that way I want it to react, I know how to make him obedient to me, the point is, agent, I know Hiccup through and through." Viggo takes a pause, enjoying this little confession of his.

"To the world, I'll be known as a monster, but I will also have my business empire-"

"Had. I don't think many of your partners or clients will want to have anything to do with your business anymore. Especially not now that they'll know you've been frauding your way into all of that money for your own gain." Agent Mackle quickly retorts, not liking Viggo's energy and enjoyment in all of this.

"However," Viggo completely ignores them, simply continuing to talk and sounding as arrogant as he possibly can. "Hiccup will only ever be known as the one who got away and he'll be lucky if that is all that he's known for. Even you only refer to him as my victim."

Mackle doesn't know what to say, furrowing their brows while Viggo's smirk remains true.

"So no matter how much he fought to get away from me, Hiccup Haddock will never escape the fact that he still belongs to me in the end." Viggo looks away at that, taking this as another checkmate. And the brand will prove that, too. Even if he has it removed, there were still be the scar of where it once used to be.

Mackle has seen a picture of it, seen the "V.G" burned into his flesh. They've seen many pictures depicting Hiccup. That a 19-year-old boy had to go through something like this... Age is another thing that didn't factor into what Viggo sought for in a future victim, but two of the identified bodies and a good amount of the suspected victims are young. Though Hiccup definitely stands out as the youngest of the bunch.

The worst part out of all of this is that Viggo isn't showing the slightest bit of remorse. He got caught and all he shows is a sick sense of pleasure in the knowledge that he and Hiccup will forever be connected through this.

He couldn't even care less about the death of his older brother. All that matters to him, is Hiccup.

Feeling sick to their stomach, Mackle takes their cup and the stack of yellowish folders, each thicker than the last, and leaves the interrogation room. They leave Viggo to wallow in his bad, bad thoughts.

[gayorphanboss]

Christmas is hell in my world - To be continued

Blood rushing to my head, heart palpitations beating faster than an electronic dance music track and bleeding from my head with a flow like a river. 14-years of this shit, 14 fleeting moments of beatings in a time period of 10 minutes. I’m on my floor, concussed with a swollen face, blood dripping off my face into the floorboard cracks. As the blood dries on my face, then makes it hard to open my eyes with the drying of the blood working as a glue on my eye lashes. The rats in the walls hear silence and make their way near me. I was frozen from the previous events, so I probably came across as an inanimate object of my room. Who did this to me? My father. Why?

The morning before I’m immobilized on my bedroom floor.

Eyes heavier than a dumbbell. I’m Half-asleep and half-awake, before the sun beaming through my bent and crooked cheap aluminon cheap blinds, make me fully aware of the day. Waking up in my own personal hell. Today isn’t just any other day. Today is Christmas. Therefore, it’s a Christmas lunch today with my family which seem like a bunch of strangers who hate me. I’m very much the black sheep. You grow up thinking adults are mature, but sometimes they act like they are still in high school, like a peer I would come across in the hallway.  But perhaps I am the problem. Sigh, why do I always feel like I’m the issue for everything I do. Do all 14-year-old boys feel like this? Sometimes I feel like a fish being pulled backwards and drowning in my own environment. Having the resources like gills and still consuming toxicity.

We are taking a full car from Ballarat to Melbourne. Guess what, I’m in the middle even knowingly I am taller than my sister Shannon. Shannon is three years older than me; she is about to go into her final year at high school. She has a good work effort, quite pretty, has freckles and long thick brunette hair. When I encountered a bullying ideal at school, she mentioned to me “once you let people walk all over you, they will be doing it for the rest of your life. In some sense I could already understand what she was talking about, with my current abuser, my father. All I knew what to do, was freeze and take it like a punching bag.

I don’t speak up or challenge any logical statement of being taller to not sit in the middle, because the consequence is more physically brutal of having a boney ass and no leg room for an hour and a half. Much better than being whipped by a belt, smacked in the face and whatever my father feels like doing to me. He struggles with his own personal problems and looks me like a punching bag, then when he wants to release his anger, he hits, kicks, throws plates, belt and whatever he wants.

Have a small bite of Weet-Bix then straight into the shower. I close the wooden door and make way into the shower filled with moldy walls. Stare at the spider in the web before washing my hair. In this moment I’m fantasying dropping dead. Perhaps being turned into ash like some magical spell in some sci-fi shit on tv, sci-fi or fiction? Who the fuck knows, I don’t! All I know is I want my ashes being washed down the drain like no such thing as existence of myself Xavier. I relive a memory of watching Saw with my mother, while she was spaced out on crack and I was seven. Admired the beauty that they had endure the pain and mostly they dyed afterwards, while I was constantly enduring more and more abuse without being relieved of my pain through death. So… death seemed pleasurable today.    

I wash my hair quickly, since getting a “hurry up Xavier” from my other sister Nikkita, through the wooden door. Now Nikkita is a very amazing athlete, dual sports or being a national athlete, finalist and medalist, I’ve always admired her. Also admired her when she put her body on the line between myself and dad, when his red bull anger was bursting, and he was trying to hurt me. I was at the door, she was in-between myself and dad, while she was not letting him through. She was in a sense stronger than him. In this moment anyways, because she wasn’t backing down and she was firm, and he couldn’t get through. She was pushing him away, while was trying to her out of the way.

I get dressed in some shorts and a T-Shirt. Now we all make our way to the car. We drive to another suburb in Ballarat, to Nan’s home. We are taking her car, on the basis of ours was gross and my father looked after things very poorly. Nan is a, my way of the highway type of women. I have a Ying and Yang love for that part of her.

We arrive, say our hellos’. Then we pack the car with my Nans dishes. Now we are on the road to Geelong. I’m so wrecked and not prepared for this day. In this car trip, I’m quite quiet. I have decided that I won’t speak any more than I need to for the day. Because I seem to always tend to be the problem. The “know it all”. This remark stems from earlier years working out basic logical problems, which ignited hatred towards my intellect. These problems solving were over many different factors in life. But one what comes to mine, is trying to fit a couch through a doorway. I suggested another way, since the initial way of trying to force it through was not working. So, I suggested “how about we try putting it on an angle”. Then my father gave up, had a little tantrum, stormed through the door and slammed the screen wire, like a four-year-old not getting a chocolate at the checkout at Coles. Left my sisters and I, to work out how to get this fucking couch into the house while he is defusing his tempter in his room. Therefore, I have come to the conclusion to be polite and not react to any remarks made by the adults on this Christmas day. Since everything I do and say is just a problem. I sincerely saying this, I’m not being sarcastic, I just want everyone to have a good time and if I do not speak, I think that will be the easiest way.

Looking past the paddocks into the skyline. Listening to my tunes and minding my business. All is going to plan. Just a normal trip, nothing abnormal. Few remarks about us, made by nan. Some body shaming to my beautiful sister Nikkita, influencing Shannon to be more proper and you know, the “know it all” remark made about me even knowingly I am being dead quiet. So in short it is a shit travel from point A to point B.

We arrive. My uncle grant and his wife Christie are the hostesses of this Christmas lunch. Also, Uncle Brett and his wife Andrea are here. With their kids, Nigel and Glen. Greetings to all, I am being polite also a little closed off not to draw to much attention to myself. I have now just witnessed Andrea and Nan accidently peck while greeting each other. I’m moving gently throughout the space and saying hello. I’m sitting on the couch with my mouth shut, but the conversations are drifting between footy (AFL) and the cricket. Two things, I am no longer interested in, but I do not voice anything. Wow. I think I am the problem. The social setting is a dynamic with only signs of peace and joy in this festive. Dad’s laughing loudly. Nan’s smiling. Pa is being the beautiful soul he is. I’m sitting on the couch, identifying I am the problem. That moment of nothingness is followed through with the hollow feeling. The feeling of emptiness, and my thoughts are thinking, I deserve every shred of abuse in endure. I’m a broken piece of shit which brings my family anger.

I make my way out-side to pat the dog. This dog is a stunning Kings Charles, named Penny. Doesn’t bark and is very friendly. I’m patting Penny outside so I can take a breath. I need a second. A second to wrap my head around, that I am a fucking burden to everyone. I am this fucking know it all twat. I want to cry, but dry less tears are coming out since I’m so fucking empty. Soo fucking over everything. I am that “cunt” one of my friend’s parents at the time called me, when over afterschool in grade 6, yes, fucking primary school. I am also that “cunt” my dad called me at 5 years old. I am stupid and ugly which my step mum called me. I am weird. I am arrogant which the dads at the swim club called me. I deserve to be the laughingstock at the swim club’s presentation when dad was awarded the golden clip board award, for breaking one over my head when I was 7 years old in Melton. They all laughed so fucking hard over awarding him it, may as well created the term “lol” before the internet slang took over in later years. I’m all the names grant calls me, I’m worth $5 a day to clean a whole house like Christy said. I’m ungrateful like every single fucking adult in my life has told me, if that’s family or teachers and everything in-between. Perhaps, they can smell the homo on me. And I am an abomination against reproduction and to this conservative family. All the beltings for crying when I was younger. I fucking deserve to have my emotions beaten out of me. The ringing ears from being so consumed by my thoughts gets broken by the calling of me name. “Xavier” Nikkita slurs.

I shift my feet back inside, the realization of my own burden on others feels like my legs are twice as heavy… I’m just extra weight on others. Back inside. Sitting on the light-colored couch, and feet on the carpet-mat. Conversations are still that bleak short talk whether shit. Time passes and we all make our way outside.

It’s a scorcher of a day in Melbourne. I am now seated at the “kids table”, while the “adults:” are at the adult table. We are under a gazebo whole they are seated under a shelter. Everything isn’t still going to plan as I drown in my own guilt of being this factor of unhappiness to my family and a subject of pain for them too. Half or so hour later, we all make our way grabbing a white kitchen plate to plate our food. I get some ham, potato salad and lamb and of course gravy. Some salt and pepper and I’m ready to eat this delightful feed. Through the sliding glass doorway, minding my business while treading lightly protecting my plate of food. Bum to the plastic chairs, very similar to the ones in primary school. Fork and knife in unison eating this delicious plate in serenity.

[erineverly]

 ◤  THEIR  ROSE  GARDEN  IS  BLOOMING  !

            one  of  the  most  private  actresses  in  hollywood ,   𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧  𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐚  𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲  𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 ,  opens  up  about  her  marriage  to  the  former  juvenile  delinquent  and  choirboy ,  now  retired  king  of  rock  n’  roll  and  father  of  two  —  𝐚𝐱𝐥  𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞.  after  years  of  silence ,  the  jordache  model  shares  some  of  the  most  intimate  stories  about  the  couple’s  struggles  with  mental  health ,  secondary  infertility  and  parenthood.  

            ❛  you  know ,  i  still  can’t  believe  that  today  we  are  celebrating  𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬  𝐝𝐚𝐲  with  not  one  but  two  beautiful  miracles  because  our  journey  to  get  to  where  we  are  now  wasn’t  easy.  actually ,  it  was  a  rollercoaster.  one  of  the  wildest  rides  ever.  there  were  days  when  i  felt  like  giving  up ,  when  i  just  couldn’t  take  it  anymore ,  but  my  husband  was  right  by  my  side ,  doing  everything  in  his  power  to  comfort  and  support  me.  it  was  all  the  more  surprising  for  us  because  getting  pregnant  the  first  time  was  a  breeze.  we  love  our  son ,  we  wouldn’t  trade  him  for  the  world  and  wouldn’t  change  a  thing ,  but  back  in  1990  we  didn’t  necessarily  think  we  were  ready  for  such  a  huge  step.  i  mean ,  we  just  got  married ,  we  lived  in  a  fairly  small  condo  in  west  hollywood ,  neither  of  us  was  mature  enough  to  take  care  of  a  little  human  but  we  stuck  together  and  we  did  it ,  despite  all  the  obstacles  that  came  our  way.  one  of  them  being  the  use  your  illusion  tour.  our  son  was  born  in  the  fall  of  1990  and  my  husband  had  to  leave  us  and  travel  the  world  only  a  few  months  later.  i  was  devastated.  it  was  a  terrible ,  terrible  experience.  of  course ,  he  tried  to  fly  home  as  often  as  possible  but  the  weeks  spent  apart  still  took  a  toll  on  our  relationship.  i’m  surprised  we  didn’t  sign  the  divorce  papers  and  went  separate  ways.  i  think  we  have  our  son  to  thank  for  this.  we  stayed  together  for  him.  we  never  stopped  trying  because  we  didn’t  want  him  to  grow  up  in  a  broken  home.  [  .  .  .  ]   then ,  when  all  that  insanity  came  to  an  end ,  he  stopped  touring  after  twenty - eight  months ,  we  finally  sorted  everything  out  and  learned  how  to  fix  our  issues.  we  had  to  go  back  to  the  start  and  rebuild  our  relationship  from  what  little  was  left  of  it.  it  took  us  some  time  to  feel  like  we  were  in  the  right  place  to  focus  on  ourselves  and  even  consider  adding  another  tiny  human  to  our  family.  it  was  actually  our  son ,  who  was  about  three  and  a  half ,  maybe  four  at  the  time.  he  started  asking  us  for  a  brother  or  a  sister  and  we  eventually  decided  that  it  was  something  all  of  us  wanted.  we  were  stable  financially ,  had  a  big  house ,  enough  time  to  raise  more  than  one  child ,  and  so  we  started  trying.  we  didn’t  expect  it  would  be  that  difficult.  the  negative  pregnancy  tests  began  to  pile  up  and  that’s  when  the  disappointment  came.  it  was  a  challenge  to  say  the  least.  we  felt  blessed  and  didn’t  want  to  be  ungrateful  because  we  already  had  one  child  but  we  both  come  from  big  families  and  wanted  to  have  one  of  our  own.  we  wanted  our  son  to  have  a  sibling ,  a  best  friend.  i  felt  like  a  failure.  it  was  horrible.  i  wouldn’t  wish  that  upon  my  worst  enemy.  [  .  .  .  ]   so ,  we’re  incredibly  lucky  to  have  two  perfectly  healthy  children.  they’re  our  greatest  blessings.  and  my  husband  ?  he’s  a  whole  different  person  these  days.  he’s  the  sweetest ,  most  nurturing  father  in  the  world.  when  our  daughter  was  a  newborn ,  he  would  wake  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  to  feed  her  and  change  her  diapers  so  that  i  could  get  some  extra  sleep.  he’s  been  puked  and  pooped  on  more  times  than  i  can  count  but  he’s  never  the  one  to  complain.  he  takes  our  son  to  his  piano  lessons  on  tuesdays ,  hosts  the  greatest  sleepover  parties ,  bakes  and  cooks  with  him.  there  are  nights  when  our  now  almost  seven - year - old  just  refuses  to  sleep  and  axl  stays  in  his  room ,  reading  him  his  favorite  bedtime  stories  until  his  voice  gives  out.  right  now  my  men  are  building  a  tree  house  in  our  backyard  and  i’m  terrified  but  they’re  having  so  much  fun  together  that  i  simply  don’t  have  the  heart  to  ask  them  to  stop.  he’s  amazing ,  you  know  ?  there’s  nothing  he  wouldn’t  do  for  our  children.  he  loves  them  unconditionally.  but  what  i’m  most  proud  of  is  how  he  teaches  them  that  marriage  and  love  are  constant  compromise  and  teamwork.  our  son  and  daughter  get  to  grow  up  in  a  house  where  mommy  and  daddy  are  equal ,  where  we  have  our  moments ,  our  strengths  and  weaknesses ,  but  that’s  why  we  need  to  work  together  to  always  succeed  in  the  end.  he  inspires  them  to  reach  for  the  stars.  he  truly  is  the  greatest  father  in  the  entire  universe ,  ❜  says  erin  rose  in  a  rare ,  personal  interview  with  kim  neely.  read  more  about  it  in  our  father’s  day  special  !

a  little  something  for  my  favorite  ;  @thornrosed

[bensakindofmagic]

Chapter Seven

Warnings: some sex (but probs doesn’t count as smut, I dunno)

w/c: 3k

Chapter Seven

“Here she is. Finally,” came Joe’s snarky remark as you burst into the makeup trailer. 

“Oh please, I’m only 15 minutes late. And anyway, I brought coffee, you ungrateful little shit,” you rebuffed with a laugh, and seemed to be instantly forgiven. “‘Morning Freddie,” you said to Rami who was already in the teeth and nose, as you handed him a cup. He shot you a wink in return. 

When you handed Gwil his, he said softly, “You seem pretty chipper. How’re you doing?” 

The last time you had seen him you were fighting off tears.

You shrugged a little, “Better, I suppose. We went out for dinner last night.” 

“So that’s why you’re late, is it?” Joe said, pumping his eyebrows (immediately causing Ben to glare at him). 

“And what right would you have to judge if it was?” you sassed. 

He held his hands up in surrender, but looked to Ben who had tensed up. Seeing him so agitated got under your skin; he had no more right to an opinion on your sex life than anyone else. 

“Not that’s it’s any of your business, but I slept in my own bed last night — alone.”

You heard Julio, who was attaching Ben’s wig, chastise him for fidgeting too much.

“So no fun times for Y/N then?” Rami queried.

“Not this time, at any rate.” 

Ben piped up, “Are you seeing him again?”

“Probably. We haven’t arranged anything, but I think I’d like to see him again before he goes back.”

“You think?” he hesitated, “So what exactly is going on between you two?”

That was exactly the question you had been asking yourself. You sighed, and sat heavily on the sofa beside Gwil.

“No idea.” You sensed that ranting wasn’t what the guys had been looking for to start off a busy day, but it felt good to get things off your chest, “I don’t know what I’m expecting to come of all this. I mean, he’s only in London for a few weeks, it’s not like anything serious could happen.”

“Is that what you want? Something serious?” Gwil prompted. You groaned and buried your face in his shoulder, “I don’t knooow.”

He put his arm around you and when you looked up he smiled lovingly. He appeared shockingly like Brian to you then.

“I can’t tell what I want ‘cause it’s hidden beneath layers of nostalgia. He was my first love, I don’t know if I ever really got over him.”

“What happened between you?” Joe asked, quickly adding, “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I moved back to England. Simple as that,” you replied. “I wanted to try and do long distance, but he said no, so we broke up. I thought he was the love of my life, you know? I thought I’d be with him forever, so when he said he wasn’t interested in trying to make things work it was a bit of a slap in the face, really. It sent me into this spiral of thinking that the whole time he meant more to me than I did to him, and that maybe he never actually loved me. It shook my confidence, a lot, and it took me a long time to build that back up. But, seeing him the other night, after everything I went through… he hasn’t changed a bit. He still makes me feel like the only woman in the world worth looking at when he talks to me.” You confession spilled out of you almost involuntarily, but you were grateful to the boys for listening. “Maybe it’s just the Italian,” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“What happens next, then?” Rami said with genuine concern for you.

“You tell me. I mean, part of me is terrified that exactly the same thing is going to happen again, I’ll fall arse over tit for him and he’ll just go running off back to Italy and I’ll be back where I was five years ago.”

“So maybe don’t see him again?” Joe said skeptically.

“But I want to,” you whined, “He makes me feel good.”

“Instant gratification though, it’s a bitch,” Gwil trilled.

You moaned, knowing deep down that he was right, “It’s the timing though, I can’t believe he’s showed up now.” Just when you needed a romantic distraction.

“What’s so special about now?’

You realised what you’d said, and how close you could have come to confessing your feelings for Ben. Even if you only said that you had feelings for someone they’d put two and two together sooner or later. That you could not risk, especially seeing as you’d decided you had to get over him.

“We’ll I’m a lot more mature now than I was then, I’m more confident in myself, I know my worth. What if I can handle it this time? We can have fun for a couple weeks, for old times sake, and then leave it there, move on.”

“Can you though?” Gwil doubted, “It’s never that easy, or that rational, when it’s your first love.” 

Of course he was right. Again. What an arsehole. You chanced a glance at Ben, who was staring steadfastly ahead, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“She’s not interested in me, mate!” Ben scowled dejectedly. “She was conflicted because of how things ended with him, it’s got fuck all to do with me. She doesn’t care about me.”

“That’s not fair, she does care very much about you. You can’t resent her for not having feelings for you,” Gwil reasoned. They were sat around during their lunch break, waiting for you to return with food. 

Ben had been watching you all morning for any sign that what the guys had said was true. He was kicking himself for not marching to your front door yesterday, before your date with that Matteo guy, and kissing you then and there. He had been so sure that you had connected that night in your trailer. Sure, he had been kind of drunk, but the chemistry was palpable. Every fibre of his body had been vibrating at just being that close to you. It tortured him that he hadn’t kissed you, or at least told you how he felt.

But now, it seemed like you barely thought of him. You hadn’t said anything about that moment; you’d barely looked at him in days. When you had spoken, it was relaxed and friendly: no sexual tension, no flirting, no banter. The rapport you had been building was suddenly gone, vanished without warning.

“I’m sorry man,” Joe consoled. “You’ve still got me though.”

That released a small chuckle from Ben, and he smiled with doe eyes, “My one true love.”

“One less person to battle with for your affection. Just me and you now, Gwil.” 

Ben laughed along with the rest of them, but a deep sadness settled heavily in his chest. You didn’t want him. He knew he should give it up, try to move on, but the thought of letting go of that beautiful dream almost hurt more than the knowledge that he could never have it. 

Just then you walked in and cheerily called, “I come bearing food!”

Joe gave Ben a pat on the back and got up to dig into the spread you were unloading. 

You noticed Joe’s behaviour and looked to Ben. There was a sadness hanging over him like a black cloud as he sat, picking at his fingernails. You debated in your mind whether to go and sit next to him. You were supposed to be getting over him, but surely the best way to do that was by being normal around him. Distancing yourself would only mask the problem, and you knew that those feelings would only resurface as soon as you saw him again. No, the way to move past it was to spend time with him, be a friend to him, and accept that friendship as good enough. You collected some food on a plate and took the seat beside him that Joe had just vacated.

“You okay? You seem a bit down,” you coaxed in a gentle tone as you offered him the plate. He took it gratefully, but didn’t meet your eyes.

“‘M fine.”

You nudged him with your shoulder, “You can’t lie to me Benny, what’s up? Trouble in your love life?” It was that kind of melancholy that suggested to you he was having girl trouble.

He pursued his lips, exhaling softly. “Something like that.”

You collapsed back into the sofa, sighing, “You and me both babe.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, a simper pulled at the corner of his mouth creating a dimple there, and you smiled; there was genuine warmth in his bright green eyes and it lit a candle in your heart. Seeing him happy was worth any heartbreak you might endure because of that smile.

“We just can’t win, can we,” he chuckled.

“Nope,” you said, popping the P, and joked, “We should just become celibate and be done with it.”

“Nah, I couldn’t cope with that, my libido is far too high.” 

You laughed heartily, and he leaned back so you were resting side-by-side. With easy-going indifference he laid his arm over the back of the sofa, and you let your head fall back to rest on it.

“Maybe we should just bang each other then, mutual satisfaction,” you mused, and shot him a look out of the corner of your eye. He cocked an eyebrow at you and you couldn’t keep a straight face. You both laughed in harmony, oblivious to the underlying longing that flared in both of you.

Joe and Gwil exchanged a look, the latter frowning while the former just shrugged and threw himself back into his lunch.

The closeness broke Ben’s heart. The way you could share such casual intimacy, then get up and walk away like it was nothing, devastated him. You had sat together, your head resting on his arm, then shifting to the spot where his shoulder met his chest, for the rest of the break. When you were called away he watched you go, mourning the sudden loss of warmth, but his his heart skipped a beat when you threw a smile at him over your shoulder as you walked away. How was he supposed to get over you when you smiled at him like that, all innocent and effortlessly beautiful? The muscles in his stomach clenched when he heard you humming quietly to yourself as you went about your job, the lilt of your voice drifting over to him on a balmy breeze. He held his breath when Josh went over and spoke to you, but relaxed when you dismissed him. He couldn’t hear the words you exchanged but by the mild disappointment on Josh’s face he assumed you had rejected whatever desperate advance he had made. As much as it pleased Ben that you weren’t interested in him, he was made aware of how many men were after you. He wasn’t surprised really, considering what a beautiful soul you were. The way you held yourself, with so much confidence and assurance, was captivating. You were gorgeous in a delicate, effortless way, but it was your heart that had him enraptured. You were endlessly kind, generous with your time and your love, but you had a mercilessly witty sense of humour. He wanted to be with you constantly; just being in your presence was worth the pain of his longing. When you disappeared outside to take a call, Ben’s eyes tracked you across the room. He saw how your face changed when yow read the Caller ID, he saw the mix of panic, excitement, and trepidation in your features. 

“Dude,” Joe admonished, slapping his arm lightly, “Stop staring at her.”

When Matteo called you on set you slipped outside to answer. It felt wrong, somehow, to take that call in front of everyone, in front of Ben. You panicked as he asked to see you again, still undecided as to what to do. It wasn’t until you heard your voice, sounding distant in your own head, agreeing to see him that evening that you realised you had already made the decision. You were well aware of the disappointment the guys felt in you after you told them why you couldn’t hang out after wrapping for the day. 

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Gwil had cautioned.

“Probably not, right?” 

“But you’re going to do it anyway,” Joe sighed, defeated.

You met Matteo in his hotel room — a sure fire indication of what he wanted from the start — and ordered room service. There was an easy nonchalance with which you conversed. The stakes were low, you both knew where the night was headed, and before you knew how it had happened he was kissing you. 

And sliding your top up over your head. 

And kissing your neck, collarbones, breasts, sucking and biting as he went.

And you were moaning and panting and hot with lust.

The passion with which you made love was suffocating. Your bodies tuned back into each other effortlessly, and waves of pleasure washed over you again and again. It chased every thought from your mind and left only burning desire in its wake. Your body was on fire under his touch. It was slow, and sensual, expert. You rode him with eyes pressed tightly shut, chasing your orgasm as he grunted beneath you. You reached your peak and collapsed onto his chest and he gingerly detached himself from you and released his own climax onto your stomach. You lay, overcome, on the bed as he went to get a towel to clean you up, but as you caught your breath a nagging dissatisfaction crept into view. The sex had been great, as good as you remembered but you felt unfulfilled. Even as he gently wiped your skin clean, pressing kisses behind your ear, you felt lonely. He wasn’t what you wanted. 

You decided not to stay the night, but slipped out of the bed when Matty was lightly snoring. You scribbled a note on the hotel notepad on the bedside table, lying that you needed to leave for work, and thanking him for last night. You silently dressed yourself and crept out the door, only glancing back for a moment at the way a sliver of moonlight painted his skin silver.

At work the next day you were distracted, making silly mistakes and daydreaming constantly. You felt uneasy at what you had done. You had wanted Matteo, wanted to sleep with him, but as soon as you’d done it you couldn’t shake the tension in your chest. You didn’t regret your choice, but it was somewhere on that spectrum. Guilt flooded your body when you saw Ben watching you from his mark between takes. 

“Y/N? Will you get costume to come and fix Joe’s shirt please?” the first AD said with some annoyance. You had clearly not been listening the first time she’d asked. 

“Right, of course.”

“You slept with him, didn’t you?” Rami asked without preamble, as he got his prosthetic nose carefully peeled off.

You gave a dejected smile, “Am I so obvious?”

“How was it?” Joe probed. 

“Mate, there’s a line,” Gwil frowned.

“Fine. Good,” you sighed. “Satisfactory."

“And yet you seem unsatisfied,” Ben said, surprising you. He usually stayed quiet during conversations about your love life. When you didn’t respond he continued, “You know you deserve so much better than him, right?”

With a quiet voice you said, “You don’t know him, Ben.” 

“No,” he stood, assured, confident, “but I know you. And I see how he makes you feel. You haven’t been happy since you first laid eyes him. You’ve been tense, and quiet. It’s not you. You’re not yourself around him. You deserve someone who makes you happy, who makes you the most honest version of yourself. That isn’t him.” And with that he grabbed his clothes and left to change out of his costume, leaving you dumbstruck.

“Well that was quite the speech,” Joe said, sounding as shocked as you felt.

Heavy silence settled over the room, making the sudden ringing of your phone sound all the more harsh.

“Is it him?” Gwil asked, noticing the look on your face. You nodded.

“I don’t want him. I want to want him but I don’t,” you whispered, your voice weak.

“Then tell him.”

You went to a secluded corner of the room and answered the phone, “Hi Matty.”

You struggled to keep your voice from cracking as you spoke, and arranged to meet him at a bar not far from set. It felt wrong to confess your feelings (or lack thereof) to him over the phone, not after everything you had gone through together, all that you had shared, but equally you wanted to get it over with. 

The guys offered to go with you for moral support (and also to make sure you didn’t chicken out, or accidentally get seduced by him), but you kindly declined, knowing it was something you needed to do alone.

You didn’t get seduced by him. You told him in a calm voice when he arrived that you didn’t want to see him anymore, you told him that you had enjoyed catching up with him after so long, but that you couldn’t regress to that time of your life, that you had moved forward since you had been together and he wasn’t what you wanted anymore. He took it well, but there was still a melancholic tinge to his features when he said goodbye, kissing your cheek and whispering, “Caio, angelo mio.”

You watched him walk out of your life for the last time, and quickly wiped away the lone tear that trickled down your face. 

tags: @anikatcmh @queen-turtle-boiii @orchideax @rogerspoison @my5secondsofneverland @mrsmazzello @ixchel-9275 @radiob-l-a-hblah @devin-marie  @luvborhap @mercurycrowley @spaghetittiesbcimgay @valeriecarolinaw @saint-hardy @caborhapch @stephanie-everlasting @coldmuffinpartycloud 

[meetthetank]

Peccatum Chapters 11-13

Sooooo I am booboo the fool and kept forgetting to post the new chapters here when I updated them on Ao3. On that note, enjoy a 3 for 1 mass posting

Ao3 Links: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/47532154 https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/48310690#workskin https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/49764506#workskin Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata), Jackass/The Commander (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), 6O (NieR: Automata), 21O, Jackass (NieR: Automata), The Commander (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, genre typical violence, long fic, Slow Burn, War, Chapter 13 is rated E Language: English 

Chapter 11: Vigo

It’s both a blessing and a curse being surrounded by droves of people. 9S likes the ability to disappear into a crowd, but the more people means the more likely he is to be discovered. At least, marching in line with the other scouts in the midst of the rest of the army, strangers wouldn’t be inspecting him too closely. That being said, he can’t shake the feeling that the eyes of the displaced and terrified citizens of Vigo were staring straight into his soul.

What was once a bustling port city is now a vacant array of buildings surrounded by hundreds of hastily pitched tents and camps. The situation is clearly much worse than White had anticipated, seeing as most if not all of the population camps about a mile away from the actual city and there seem to be no signs of protection or higher authority. They pass by several groups of people who almost swarm the march with their hands out desperately asking for things like food, water, and medicine. As much as the sight hurts 9S to watch, he had to march boldly, ignoring the cries of the suffering.

There’s multiple times where 9S has to scan the crowd. He’s certain he senses the presence of other half-demons here, though with so many in the crowd it’s hard to pick out exactly where they are. For a split second his hopes soar at the possibility that he won’t have to hide as badly here, but the tension and fear that hangs in the air quells that hope as quickly as it rises.

The city itself, vacant as it is, is one of the more opulent ones 9S has visited. Well maintained cobblestone streets, every building decorated with white marble columns contrasted by rich red brickwork and flanked by grand statues of what he assumes to be commissioning senators. He had heard the port town was wealthy, but he supposed he had to see it to believe it. If only he could take the time to actually enjoy the place.

White leads the army through the center of the practically abandoned city towards the barracks belonging to the city guard, right past a structure that chills 9S to the bone. An execution block, complete with gallows, cages, stockades, and other cruel methods of death. The dark wood and the cobblestone around it is stained dark and decorated with graffitied slurs and crude depictions of half-demons. 9S makes sure his glamor charm is hidden away under his coat and tries to not look at the grim sight for too long.

So far the only other people they pass by in Vigo are stubborn vagrants who refuse to abandon their homes, or volunteer soldiers bringing food and what little water they can find to the tent city. White commands the army to halt while she and Jackass enter the sparsely guarded judicial building, however they return with scowls. White snaps at a nearby city guard who sprints away as if he had seen a demon. 9S wonders if the Commander is the highest authority still left in the city…

Without the need to announce their arrival, since there were no authority figures besides White, the army files into the barracks and prepares themselves to settle in for a long time. There was no way to tell when they would be called into battle, so most of the soldiers believed they would be assigned to assist with moving people and ferrying supplies to and from the camps. 9S isn’t sure if he agrees with that, but he didn’t anticipate the cowardice of the ruling class, so at this point, anything could happen.

He also doesn’t expect just how cramped the city’s barracks would be. Everyone regardless of station, with the exception of Commander White herself, are nearly shoulder to shoulder as they unpack and claim beds. The scouts all congregate at the back of the bunk room, and though the tension between 9S and 801S is still palpable, they both help each other and the rest of the scouts get situated in their small spaces. 9S wonders if he should apologize for how he acted a few days back, after all, 801S was in the right. Wandering away from the group was incredibly dangerous, even if it really wasn’t his fault.

“Hey...Nines?” 32S quietly says to him once most of the others are sprawled out on their beds for a moment of rest.

“Hm? Everything okay?”

32S fidgets with a simple charm on his bracelet, “Yeah, um… Did you see-”

“The town center? Yeah…” a grim look crosses 9S’ face.

“I didn’t know Vigo was so dangerous to...us.”

“I didn’t either. According to 42S’ report, it seemed more tolerant than most towns…”

“What changed?”

“Demon attacks,” 801S muttered, shuffling past the two, “I’d imagine between regular demon sieges and whatever the thing in the bay is only fueled tensions.”

“Oh…” 32S’ head drops, “Right.”

801S sighs and places a hand on his companion’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine if you just stick with the squad. Not even an angry mob would dare attack a group of uniformed soldiers.”

9S jabs 801S in the side, perhaps a little too roughly, “Ssh. Not so loud.”

He almost snaps at 9S but shuts up once he sees the small troop of city guards and Republic soldiers shuffle through the crowd of White’s soldiers. One gives the scouts an odd look before continuing onward.

“Odds are they’ve got orders to apprehend anyone they suspect of being half breeds,” 9S whispers, “If they hear any of us it won’t matter what army we’re a part of and it would get the Commander in serious trouble.”

“Why don’t you get 2B to protect you.” says 801S with a scowl.

9S is about to snap back at him, but Jackass looming just a few beds down forces him to keep quiet. For now at least.

“Okay boys listen up,” she grumbles in a low tone, just barely loud enough for the scouts to hear, “White and I suspect something’s wrong. No Senator, no Mayor, no Councilors, not even a Merchant Lord. You lot and I are gonna do some snooping around the camps, see if any of the civilians know what’s going on. Be geared up and at the front of the barracks in an hour.”

The moment Jackass is out of earshot, the scouts let out a collective groan.

“I know it isn’t a Senator’s estate, but it’ll be a lot more comfortable than the barracks,” 6O says with a playful wink.

2B stands awkwardly in the small bedroom that her friend had rented at a steep discount through a mix of feminine charms and a flash of military affiliation. A free place to stay required her to be an official part of White’s army after all.

“All this is...for me?” she asks.

“Yep! Well, at least until we move out again. After that either you stick with us or you pay on your own.”

“Thank you,” 2B bows her head to her friend, “What do I owe you in repayment?”

“Nothing, you dumb chicken!” 6O jabs her in the rib lightly, “This is me repaying you for that stunt you got me out of during the Equinox Festival?”

“If I hadn’t covered for that mess you made with the Elder’s granddaughter and that botched wedding you would have been eaten alive. Literally.”

“I know! That’s why I’m repaying you! Besides, that innkeeper would do anything for a pretty lady.”

“Oh really?” she crosses her arms across her chest and allows for a coy smirk, “Do you know any?”

“Hey watch it, Featherbrain, I can still let you sleep in the streets.”

2B puts her hands up defensively, “I kid, I kid. Though all this does seem a bit...unnecessary. I hope that doesn’t sound ungrateful.”

“Huh? Why, are you planning on exploring the city?” a smirk of her own plays across 6O’s lips, “Ooor….are you planning on fooling around with a certain scout? Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” 6O is taken aback by her honesty and bluntness, “...You two are really hitting it off, huh?”

2B nods, “He’s interesting and…” she shakes her to let the downy feathers beneath her hair settle before they puff out too much, “...Cute.”

“Interesting and cute, huh? Is that all it takes to win the heart of a Coatyl?”

“Please,” 2B huffs, “I’m not that easy to woo. But…”

“Buuuut….?”

“I was thinking about...um,” she turns away and tries to smooth down her hair, “...Going out to find a...stone.”

6O gasps and bounces on her heels with barely contained excitement, “Are you serious?! Oh, 2B!! When are you gonna give it to him?! You have to tell me! As your best friend and self-appointed emotional guardian, I have a right to know!”

“I don’t know. I have to find one first…”

“You come to me the moment you do! Promise?!”

“I promise, 6O.”

In hindsight, it probably would have been safer for 9S to stick with the other scouts while investigating the refugee camps, but he needed to get away from 801S and his constant jabs at his closeness to 2B. Every single time he thinks about maybe apologizing, that guy always ends up pushing back. It’s like he has mind-reading powers or something. It all just makes 9S’ blood boil.

Just thinking about 2B makes his head spin. It’s such a bizarre situation he never thought he’d find himself in, and there’s no easy solution to it. Cutting her loose wouldn’t work, she wouldn’t leave the only real lead to her sibling. That and 9S gets the feeling she’s become...attached to him, which is a whole other wheelbarrow of manure for him to sift through and possibly the reason for all the conflict between him and the other scouts.

He’d be an idiot if he denied having feelings for her. She’s strong, mysterious, and sweet beneath the abrasive personality. There were glimmers of genuine kindness that every time he gets a peek, he wants to see more and more…

God, he’s got it bad for her.

Stupid lousy goddamn sexy dragoness…

Then there was the whole issue of his bloodline and the danger that put him and 2B in, which is just...Great.

At least he could lose himself in his work. A good puzzle always kept his mind off of distressing things.

9S spends an hour or so mingling with those civilians that were involved in higher government before it all disappeared. Most declined to speak at first, but nothing a bit of wine couldn’t fix seeing as how luxuries were hard to come by. According to one tax collector, the Senator had fled the town the moment the demon first surfaced, and his assistants soon after. One by one the mayor, councilors, even treasurers secured passage out of Vigo before any of the civilians knew what was happening. Of course, 9S shouldn’t be surprised at this, but it still makes him sick to his stomach that they would just leave their people to die like this? Maybe growing up with authority figures like White, Jackass, and his mother made him less tolerant of this sort of behavior.

The last real authority figure still lingering around is an old wharfmaster, who shut down all ship traffic in the harbor after the second demon sighting. He’s much more forthcoming with information than the others, telling 9S about how shutting the harbor down was a very unpopular decision. With demon attacks on the rise, many civilians from all over flocked to the port city for passage to the blessed grounds of the Theocracy. Even with a massive mystery demon in the bay the water is still the safest option, with the other two being a vast desert and an even larger primordial bog, both filled with creatures far worse than whatever was lurking in the depths.

Unfortunately, that’s the extent of what he’s able to learn. No one seems to know where the nobles went or how long they planned on staying away. Their houses and most of their belongings were left behind and promptly ransacked once word spread, though 9S doubts if anything terribly valuable was taken.

He begins making his way back to the barracks to compile his report when he runs into his mother and the other supply wagons. On either side of the caravan are several city guards that escort them through the camps and into the city proper. 21O leads the horses pulling the raven wagon and gives a brief wave to 9S as she passes by. He sprints up to her while shoving his notebook into his satchel.

“Hey, what took you guys so long?” he says after catching his breath.

“Customs officers needed to inspect the wagons before letting us into the city.”

“Really?”

21O gives him an odd look, “Is that so hard to believe? It’s a large city important to the Republic.”

“Well, the city government is all but gone aside from a few tax collectors and a wharfmaster. Everyone else fled after the first sighting.”

She sighs, “We should have expected this.”

“At least we don’t have to pander to some stuffy aristocrat while we’re here, right?”

“In a sense, yes, but there is a good chance that those stuffy aristocrats will be sending messengers to make sure we adhere to their rules.”

“Yeah, yeah…” 9S grumbles.

“One affirmation is enough.”

“Fiiiiine.”

9S hops onto the wagon so he can finish getting all of his notes for his report written down, stopping occasionally to calm the squawking birds. It isn’t long before city hall comes into view, as well as an ornate carriage. Two nearly identical white haired men walk with White and Jackass. Something about the two of them gives 9S a...strange feeling.

“Who are they?” he asks.

21O stares at the two men for a much longer time than 9S thought necessary, “...I don’t know. They could be envoys.”

“Well,” mutters 9S, “...I have to turn my report into Jack-...The Lieutenant.” he hops off the wagon just as it passes the city hall.

“You’re not going to eavesdrop on the commander again, are you?” his mother chastises, “Remember how long you were stuck on latrine duty the last time they caught you?”

“I’m gonna catch her before their meeting, don’t worry.” he groans, but a smirk crosses his face just as 21O gets out of earshot, “...And I won’t get caught this time.”

Slipping into the city hall is easy enough. 9S is small enough his footsteps barely make a sound even on marble floors, and there’s plenty of statues, columns, and furniture of obscure him from view. The real problem is finding which of the hundreds of offices and council chambers his superior officers are using. Door after door of empty rooms, storage closets, and baffling fake doors, he finally hears the muffled grumbling of Jackass.

“...is why they had to send the two of you. Why not meet us personally.”

9S crouches near the door and eases it open just a tad so he can hear better.

“Again,” the man with long white hair says, his voice smooth and almost velvet like, “We apologize that the Senator could not be here to meet you and your army in person, but he does send his thanks for coming to his city’s aid.”

“I see,” White says, tapping her chin.

“Now, the reason for our visit,” he motions to what appears to be his twin, a man with short wild white hair, to lay a series of parchments in front of White and Jackass, “The Senator and the city councilors have compiled their plans for evacuating civilians.”

“And enlisting a Theocratic battalion is part of these evacuations?” Jackass snaps and gestures to the packet in her hands.

“Yes,” the long haired man remains calm, “They are the most effective legion to dispose of the demonic threat, and seeing as your troops are not prepared to handle an evacuation or the demon in the harbor-”

White holds up her hand, “Incorrect. My lieutenant has been devising a countermeasure of our own for some time. As for the civilians, our troops are more than capable of handling evacuations.”

The long haired man is silent for a moment while his short haired companion childishly slumps over the table, “...Very well. Under your discretion we will leave the tasks outlined in these documents to you and your army. I am...curious of this...countermeasure you mentioned. Would it be enough to eliminate the demon in the water?”

Jackass produces some documents of her own and arranges them on the table. Oh how 9S’ wishes he could see them.

“It requires two ships to carry it, but there’s enough power in cannon to level a small city. Unless this demon is immune to half a ton of solid metal flying at it at about ...three hundred miles per hour, we’re fine.”

“This contraption is...experimental, yes?”

Jackass tenses up, “Yes, but I’ve overseen every part of its design. It will work.”

He nods, “Very well. If the beast surfaces again we will prepare your...cannon. The Senator’s provisions and supplies are at your disposal.”

White bows, “Thank you. We will begin preparations for the evacuations immediately.”

The two white haired men return the bow and turn to the door. For the briefest of moments, the one with long hair locks eyes with 9S and an unnatural chill runs through his body. He’s frozen in place by the man’s hypnotic red eyes, and 9S swears he smiles at him. As they move towards him, 9S scrambles away as quickly and as quietly as he can. They don’t shout or follow or chase after, they just leave.

When they pass by him, that same chill makes 9S shudder and the hideous whispering of the girls in red begin to creep into his mind. The long haired man smirks idly as he stares in his general direction.

His inhuman, red eyes bore into 9S’ soul...

Chapter 12: Cherry Boy

With little over a week and no sign of the strange demon in the bay, 9S beings to wonder if maybe this is all just a big hoax. Perhaps the Senator and Councilors fabricated this all as a ploy to interrupt the mass evacuation, or simply to have a stronger military presence at their disposal. He’s sure that Commander White and Jackass are suspicious as well, considering they waste no time putting him and the other scouts to work. It’s mostly busy work and assisting the refugees on the outskirts of the city, but there are a number of times where they have the ulterior motive of watching Adam and Eve, the twin messengers of the Senator.

Simply looking at the twins sends shivers down his spine. Their eyes, demeanor, stark white hair, even the way they speak sets off something within him. Not to mention the fact that whenever they’re nearby, he hears the nauseating whispers of...whatever those girls in red are. He knows they’re demons, but he’s not sure which kind or if they’re full blooded or not.

Of course, 9S told Jackass of his suspicions, which were met with solemn nods and promises of “working on it”. As much as it frustrates him that there isn’t immediate action, it is a delicate situation. Those twins hold themselves in a position of power over the entire army, one false move and White would end up in a mess of trouble. Jackass needs irrefutable proof that those two aren’t human to make a proper case against them.

However, there’s only so much he can do in one day.

His entire morning and afternoon is spent assisting his mother with care of the ravens and sorting incoming mail, as well as keeping tabs on the twin messengers under the guise of simple errands for the wharfmaster. With the added bonus of 801S being assigned to assist, 9S pushes himself and 801S to complete all of their tasks as quickly as possible. Luckily, 801S agrees with him, albeit sullenly.

9S sighs to himself as he walks with 801S. Their little feud has been going on for quite some time, and frankly the whole thing exhausts him.

“Hey...801S?” he begins.

“Yeah?”

He sounds genuine at least, that’s a good sign, “I...Look I know I’ve been a jerk to you and the others recently.”

801S says nothing, but regards his friend with wary but patient eyes.

“I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve been acting recently. We’re supposed to be a team, but I’ve just been thinking of myself.”

Again, 801S says nothing for a long time, only staring at 9S while he frets with the hem of his sleeve.

“...I can hardly blame you. She is very pretty,” he says finally, a small grin creeping on his face.

9S’ face flushes red, “Y-...She is. But that doesn’t excuse the way I’ve treated everyone.”

He shrugs, “By this point it’s just me who’s still holding a grudge. But...Maybe I’m still bitter.”

“About?”

“You know…” 801S gives his friend a sad look and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh...Yeah. Listen, I know that we didn’t, um...work well as a couple, but you’re still my friend. No matter what.”

“I know that it’s just...It makes me feel weird seeing you go after someone else, especially a woman. I know I don’t have any right to feel that way but that’s the truth.”

9S rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah…”

“I owe you an apology as much as you do. So...I’m sorry for being such a jealous dunce.”

9S laughs a bit, “We really are a mess aren’t we.”

“No, just you. Mr. I’m gonna fall for a dragoness.”

“W- Wait hang on!” he sputters, “I did not fall for her!”

“Oh really?” 801S teases, and for the first time in a while, his coy smirk appears, “Then once we get back to the barracks, where were you gonna go?”

“N-None of your business!”

9S self-consciously pulls his scarf over his face and dashes away, leaving behind a laughing 801S.

“Good luck, moron!”

2B sits on 6O’s bed, legs folded beneath her. She turns a smooth, blue-ish pebble over and over in her hand while 6O combs her thin fingers through the downy undercoat of 2B’s hair.

“Soooo...Is this the one?” 6O asks, twisting a few strands into a loose braid.

“I think so, the sheen and color of this stone is much better.”

“When are you gonna give it to him?”

2B hums in thought, “I’m not sure, there isn’t very often where the two of us are alone…Perhaps I’ll ask him if he wants to go on a walk?”

“That might work, but…” she mutters, “Sorry, Toobie, but I can’t help but wonder what would happen if he doesn’t accept?”

“Well, it wouldn’t change much really,” 2B responds, “It’s merely a statement of intention.”

“You can say that all you like, but you and I both know what the common meaning of one of those stones is.”

She huffs and attempts to smooth down her hair before it becomes too fluffed up, “Hush.”

6O giggles and returns her attention to the simple pattern of plaits and braids she’s weaving through her friend’s hair. Through some of the braiding she places small colorful flowers. Some purple and blue, others bright red like drops of blood.

“Still, I can’t help but think the meaning and symbolism might be lost on him. He’s never had exposure to Coatyl culture beyond what you’ve explained to him.”

2B can’t help but agree. Without knowledge of what this stone means, it’s just a simple rock. She turns it in her hands, running her thumb over the smooth peaks and troughs of the little blue stone.

“...I’m still going to do it.”

“I know,” 6O says with a giggle, “I know better than to try and stop you once you’ve made up your mind. Oh, but you...Um, has your uh ...time, passed?” she mumbles, fidgeting with a small, hair-like feather.

“Yes, my yearly heat ended several months ago.”

6O lets out an audible sigh of relief which earns her a pointed glare from 2B, “Oh quiet, I’m allowed to fret.”

“I am not some wanton teenager. I know what I’m doing.”

“You could have fooled me.” 6O teases.

“Listen-”

Just as 2B is about to scold her dearest friend for her overbearing behavior, she spots 9S waving from just down the hall. Hastily, she stuffs the stone in one of her pockets before he gets too close.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear!” 6O greets as 9S lets out an annoyed groan.

“Ha ha,” he says with a deadpan tone, “I’ve never heard that one a million times.”

2B shuffles slightly as she waves to 9S, who plops down on the bed next to her.

“Wow, your hair looks really pretty with all these flowers in it!” he says while running the tips of his fingers along one of her braids, “Like a...like a snow field with little flowers poking out of it.” He knows his face is bright red, but he doesn’t feel the telltale flutters of his heart or shaking of his hands. He just smiles and runs his fingers over the patterns of braids and flowers.

6O snickers and teases him for being a budding poet, but 2B can’t help but notice how her heart skips a beat.

“Thank you…”

“Aww,” 6O coos, “Look, when she gets flustered her hair gets all poofy. Like an angry bird!”

2B shoves her friend playfully as 9S giggles next to her. Suddenly the stone in her pocket feels twice as heavy, “Ahem...Anyway, 9S, what are you doing here? I thought you were loaded with tasks?”

“Ugh, yeah,” he groans, “But 801S and I managed to finish everything more quickly than I thought, so now I have the rest of the day to myself.”

“Ooo,” 6O says, leaning in close to the two of them, “What are you gonna do with all your free time?”

“Um,” 9S looks to the floor, his face suddenly heating up, “Well, 2B, if you’re also free, I was thinking maybe we could explore the city? It’s really quiet since everyone is trying to leave. Usually places like this are swarming with tons of people all the time. It can get pretty overwhelming.”

2B and 6O exchange glances with each other. 6O sports a wide grin and excited eyes, while 2B’s face remains as neutral as ever, aside from the slight shifting of the flowers in her hair.

“Sure,” says 2B, “I’ve never been to a human city before, at least not one as big as this. I’d appreciate a tour.”

“Great!” 9S nearly bounces to his feet, taking 2B’s hand in his and pulling her up as well, “I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes! I’m gonna change out of my uniform!”

Before 2B can respond he’s already out the door, his excited footsteps echoing through the barracks. She feels her heart flutter like the wings of a fledgling and thinks herself rather silly.

6O leans close to her, a wicked grin spreading across her face, “Soooo….”

“Hush.”

“Come on Two Beeeeee! This is the perfect opportunity!”

“Hush.”

She grabs 2B’s shoulders and rocks them back and forth, “You gotta!! 2B you have to!”

“Hush,” 2B shuffles herself away from 6O and rises to her feet. She lifts her scabbard and slings the strap across her shoulders, then makes her way towards the barrack’s exit, “....Maybe I will. Depending on how things go.”

The excited shouting of 6O is the last thing 2B hears before she shuts the door behind her.

Even 2B, someone who had never set foot in a city this size, couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the vacant streets and silent buildings. The comparisons to a forest of stone trees were not lost on her. A forest with no life in it whatsoever, aside from the handful of stubborn folks who seem determined to die in the place they were born. Such devotion to their homeland sends a pang of guilt through her heart, and reminds her of where she can never return to…

Yet those melancholy thoughts are quickly swept away by 9S’ enthusiasm. He gleefully leads her through the maze of streets and buildings, plazas and squares, pointing out the unique history of each statue or piece of architecture. While his wealth of knowledge is staggering, 2B finds herself more interested in feeling the different wind currents shift and waver, and imagining how to successfully fly on such currents. Even though she isn’t exactly listening to him, 9S’ cheerful chattering does make her feel more at ease in this foreign and claustrophobic environment.

Even the local fauna seem to have fled, aside from the street cats that peek out from their hiding places to watch 9S. One skinny orange cat even follows them for a few blocks, its tail held high the entire time. A low growl from 2B sends it scurrying away.

“Aw...that one was cute,” 9S pouts.

2B huffs, “Don’t like cats.”

“How come?” he asks, pacing a bit in front of her.

“Back in my homeland, we had to always be on guard for shadowcats. They make your...what are they called,” she mutters, “Lions? Yes, lions. They make lions look like harmless kittens.”

“Okay...that’s terrifying,” 9S muses and falling back in step besides 2B.

“Quite. They are far too silent for something as large as they are.”

9S shudders at the image his mind conjures of predators the size of the buildings that surround them, lurking just out of sight. Desperate to change the subject, he grabs hold of 2B’s hand and pulls her forward with a nervous grin plastered on his face.

“Come on, let’s find something to eat! There’s bound to be someone still running a stand or two around here. What are you in the mood for?”

The existence of a choice catches her off guard, “Hm…”

“We could see if there’s someone making sweetbreads! Or something hearty and warm, like soup or meat pies!” his eyes light up at the thought of these foods, but suddenly his face falls, “Oh...wait I don’t have a whole lot of money right now…”

The last thing 2B wants is to quash his enthusiasm, but she doubts that anyone with something to live for would be anywhere near this town. In fact the only humans she’s seen in the city besides those affiliated with White’s army were a small group of vagrants idlying by a run down pier. They huddle around a small fire surrounded by shields, which protect it from the salty wind blowing off of the water.

She stops suddenly as an idea comes to her.

“Hm? What’s wrong, 2B?”

“Why not go to the harbor?” she asks, pointing towards the pier, “It is free food, after all.”

While she does have a point 9S can’t help but remember the state he found her the first time they met. Floundering around like a crippled seagull, barely able to keep her head above water. Looking back on it now, he'd consider it funny if it wasn’t a threat to her life, and even then it was still pretty funny. Still, he would rather not have to dive into the murky, possibly demon infested waters of the harbor to rescue her once again.

“Alright,” 9S says, “But only if you let me teach you how us weak humans fish. You know, without almost drowning.”

“Hmph.” 2B crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at him, “The techniques of my people have been honed for millenia. Do not insult the proud dragon species.”

He holds back a laugh, “Only if you promise not to make me jump in the water after you.”

A low growl is the only response he gets, which only serves to make him smile more. She really is cute when she’s flustered.

2B doesn’t agree to his proposal out right, but she does follow behind him while he looks through the abandoned merchant stalls for loose equipment. Most if not all of the stands are void of anything useful, whether it was packed up when the owner left or picked clean by vagrants was impossible to tell, but there were a handful that still contained hidden treasures.

9S wasn’t about to expect to find a full fishing set and box of tackle, but he did find a worn rod and a spool of wire. In another he found an old box of hardtack and cheese. Not as ideal a bait as worms or insects, but it would do in a pinch. 2B just stares, bewildered by the seemingly random tools he collects, but makes no comment. She only watches him with those bright, curious eyes. He can’t help but smile at her.

“Come on, let’s go find a good spot,” he says, nodding his head towards the bay, “Or-...Hey can you pick out where there’s the most fish?”

With a nod, 2B wanders over to the edge of the dock and peers into the water. She stands there, unmoving and silent aside from the occasional turn of her head. Sometimes she prowls across the edge, stalking some unseen movement. Unable to contain his curiosity, 9S leans over, dangerously close to the water, to get a look at her face and what she’s looking at. Her eyes, wide and darkend, dart across the surface. It’s mesmerizing to watch her, so mesmerizing that when she suddenly turns to speak to him, he nearly jumps out of his skin and loses his balance.

“This spot seems to be a spawning ground,” 2B says, fixing her hair, “There are plentiful fish here.”

“R-..right. Okay,” he inwardly curses how easy it is to get him to blush, as he can already feel his face heating up, “Here, lemme show you how to bait the line.”

Careful not to stab his fingers, 9S hooks a piece of cheese onto the end of the line, “You want the barb at the end to be poking through enough so that it hooks into the fish’s mouth when it tries to get the bait, but not so much that it can just take it without hooking themselves.”

2B’s brow furrows as he casts the line into the harbor and sits on the edge, his feet dangling above the water, “Now what?”

“Now we wait for a fish to bite. Once you feel the line start to tug and pull away, you reel it in. That’s really all there is to it.”

“Seems...Boring,” she says, yet sits beside him anyway.

“That depends on how hungry the fish are,” he answers, “If they are, we should have a bite within-...!”

As if on cue, the rod dips into the water, then whatever is on the other end nearly rips it from 9S’ hands. With a quick yelp, he grabs hold of the fishing rod and yanks backward with all of his might. Something small breaks the surface of the water and with practiced movements, 9S reels in a fish about the size of his hand.

“See? Easy!” He holds up the wriggling fish to 2B with a bright smile, “You wanna give it a shot?”

2B eyes the fish, “...What are you going to do with that?”

“Oh, usually I toss them back. Why?” he asks, working the hook out of the fish’s mouth.

The moment the fish is free, 2B snatches it away with a lightning quick swipe of her clawed hand.

“I’m hungry,” she says and bites the head clean off of its body.

“Urgh…,” 9S fights back the nauseous churning of his gut, “Fine, but if you want to eat more you have to catch your own.”

She swallows the still-thrashing tail in one gulp, “...Okay, deal.”

9S hands her the rod and some bait then takes a step back. Just in case. She fumbles with the hook and ends up stabbing her fingers more than once before the bit of bread is through the barb. It’s worth the sideways glares he gets from her to laugh at her stubbornness.

“Need any help?” he teases.

She lets out a growl before tossing the line into the harbor and kneeling down next to him, “Quiet.”

Watching 2B fish is far from the relaxing and meditative activity 9S expects it to be. It’s more akin to watching a hawk stalk its prey from its perch. Each movement of the fish swimming just out of his sight, each ripple of the water is something 2B can decipher and track with precision he could only dream of. Her shoulders tense each time the line moves, whether by the currents or by a curious fish. She looks so poised he’s half worried that she might leap into the water at any given moment.

A few of the civilians who chose to stay in the city wander over to watch this strange woman in strange robes fish in her bizarre manner. 2B doesn’t seem to notice, as her concentration is locked solely on the water and what lies beneath.

“Try moving the rod a little. Fish tend to like things that move like prey,” he whispers directly in her ear so as not to disturb her too much.

The very tip of the rod dips once, twice, then in a flash of movement too fast for 9S to even see 2B leaps back and rips a large trout out of the water with a magnificent splash. The civilians cheer as the fish struggles against the rod and 2B’s strength, floundering on the ground pathetically. She grins at her catch, flashing the pointed teeth of a predator. 9S can’t help but feel...something...as she bites into its flesh and severs its spine clean in half. Not fear, at least not entirely fear. Awe perhaps? Whatever the feeling is, it certainly makes his stomach do strange flips and his heart beat just a bit faster.

The civilians disperse quickly amidst worried murmuring and fearful stares. Some part of 9S feels as though he should be offended, but then again, as he glances at 2B eating a live fish nearly whole he can see why strangers would flee from her. After all, he almost did.

But he knows she is not some monster, despite her outward appearance and current actions. She is kind, gentle, and strong beyond compare. She is a peerless warrior, and someone he considers to be a dear friend. He…

“I…” 2B’s voice jolts 9S out of his thoughts, “I would offer to share, but…” she looks down at the remains of the trout in her hands, “Well, you said before humans can’t eat raw meats.”

“Well, not often. But I hear there are some places that think it’s a delicacy.”

Her eyes widen a bit and she tilts her head to the side in the way that makes 9S’ heart skip, “Really?”

“Mhm,” he says as he takes the fishing rod and casts it into the harbor, “Even just on our continent, there’s a lot of kinds of food specific to one area. Like on the border of the Theocracy and the Great Bog they make this special kind of sweet bread with honey that supposedly tastes like angel tears.”

“I’m not sure I see the point in all this...variation.” 2B admits after tossing the scraps of inedible fish back into the water.

9S gives her a quizzical look, “Do Coatlys not have different ways of preparing meals? Like different mixes of spices?”

“Preparing food seems to be a…human practice. We simply hunt prey or gather plants from the forest, clean, dress, and give thanks. That’s it.”

He chuckles, “I guess you must think all the effort humans put into cooking pretty silly, huh?”

“Hardly,” 2B says, shaking her head, “It’s....interesting. I’d like for you to cook for me sometime, should the occasion arise.”

9S’ face lights up like the sun, “Really?! I know tons of recipes from all over! Maybe once we’re done here, I’ll be able to go on leave for a bit, then we can try all kinds of new foods together!”

2B folds her hands into her pockets and fumbles with something unseen by 9S, “I’d like that, I think.”

Though the conversation ends, 9S finds himself enjoying their silence. More often than not he feels a bit awkward if there’s little to no banter, but this is...comfortable. He doesn’t feel the need to speak to 2B for her to know he’s enjoying her company. And the soft smile on her lips lets him know that she feels the same.

They fish together in silence, passing the rod back and forth every so often, 2B eating whatever fish looks the tastiest to her, until the sun begins to set.

“It’s gonna be dark soon, we should start heading-...” 9S begins, but as he stands up he cuts himself short, “Oh! I just remembered something!”

“Hm?” 2B hums, standing up with him.

“While I was helping the refugees earlier, I happened upon a traveling merchant who was selling something I’ve never tried before. Want to come with me?”

2B barely has the chance to nod before he grabs her hand and starts pulling her along. They jog together through the empty streets, and though she is more than capable of keeping pace beside him, 9S does not let go of her hand.

She thinks she doesn’t want him to.

It isn’t long before the sprawling complex of tents comes into view, just past the unkempt walls of Vigo. Many civilians are settling in for the night, but many more are huddled around small fires chatting with one another. The air is tense, apprehensive, but not as much as when they first arrived. 2B wrinkles her nose at the sharp scent of alcohol that hangs around certain groups, but 9S seems too focused on his destination to notice.

“Oh, good!” he says and points towards a man in holy vestments casting a blue hued spell, “He’s still here!”

A strange scent hangs in the air around this holy man. Sweet and fruity, it reminds 2B of a tree bearing bountiful fruits, but the chill in the air makes her scales itch. She watches as the holy man stir several large pots of what looks like cream while casting that chilling magic and pouring a bowl of fruit paste into the mixtures.

“Ah, the young soldier from earlier!” the holy man greets 9S as they approach, “And who is this? Another soldier?”

“Hello again!” 9S replies and waves, “No, this is my friend 2B. I convinced her to try your...cold cream?”

“Iced cream,” he says with a chuckle.

“Iced cream. I convinced her to try some with me.”

2B doesn’t speak, but nods and eyes the priest warrily.

“No need to be so wary, young one. This treat is a favorite among even the folks of the northern Theocracy,” the holy man smiles warmly at her, “Now, what flavor would you two like?”

“Flavor?” 9S blinks for a moment, “Is that what that fruit was for?”

“Exactly, my boy. I have strawberries, caramel, elderberries, cherries, dragonfruit-...”

“Cherry!” 9S yelps, then immediately shrinks down sheepishly, “Er, cherry please.”

“Of course. And for you, miss?”

2B looks back and forth between the priest and 9S, eyes wide with confusion, “Um...I don’t know. These are all new to-”

“Caramel for her. Can you put a bit of salt in it as well? She’s not a fan of too sweet food,” 9S says, stepping in front of her a bit.

A short huff comes from 2B, but her irritation is quelled by 9S simply placing his hand on hers. She makes a mental note to snap at him later for speaking for her.

“Of course of course. It will be just a moment, now.”

9S places some gold coins into a little pan of collections sitting just in front of the priest and steps back to watch his process. With one hand he stirs the thickening mixture of milk, sugar, and respective flavorings, and with another he sprinkles in a bit of salt. He casts a basic ice spell at the base of the jug till the cream becomes so thick that he must use both hands to stir. Once satisfied with the product, the holy man uses the stirring spoon to fill two simple ceramic bowls with the different flavors requested.

“There you go, enjoy you two!”

“Thank you very much,” 9S says, taking the bowls from the priest and handing 2B hers, “Come on, let’s eat on the way back.”

2B stares at the bowl as she follows after him. The cold of this frozen cream bites into the thin scales of her hands, and the scent it gives off is unlike anything she had smelled before. It’s not entirely unpleasant, just strange to her. She dares to lick it, if only a bit, and gasps loud enough to startle 9S.

“You okay? Too cold?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “No...It’s-...” her brow furrows, “I don’t understand.”

“Huh? What don’t you get?”

“How does this golden sugar taste different from the white sugar?”

9S can’t help but laugh, “It’s caramel. Boiling the sugar with water and then letting it cool changes the way it tastes.”

“How? What kind of spell is that?”

“It’s not a spell,” he swallows a small mouthful of his reddish ice cream, “Just chemistry. Though in a way, it is kind of like magic.”

“Strange…” 2B mutters, and licks at the ice cream some more.

“Indeed,” 9S says with a small giggle, “Oh, hey 32S told me about a side entrance that puts us closer to the barracks than going through the main gate. It takes us through the woods for a bit but with the two of us we should be okay.”

“Why were you worried in the first place?”

“Well there’s wolves, bears, and demons of course.” he grumbles, “Remember, I’m not as strong as you.”

“Yes, but I’m the most dangerous thing here. Aside from whatever’s in the water.”

“Oh hush, and just follow me.”

True to his word, 9S leads her through the thick forest that sprawls along the eastern side of Vigo’s walls. A small, untended road winds through the trees but patches of vegetation grow over segments of the glorified dirt path. Without a sign of human activity along with the fading light, 9S feels safe enough near 2B to deactivate his concealing spell. He taps the jewel in his pendant twice and the air around him shimmers briefly. Little stubby horns emerge from his forehead and a thin barbed tail whips sways back and forth with his stride. He feels 2B’s eyes on him, but when he turns to meet her gaze there’s no fear or malice in her eyes. He...isn’t sure what emotion he sees in her dark eyes but it makes his chest feel warm.

9S smiles and holds up his bowl of ice cream, “Hey, 2B. Check out what I can do.”

2B tilts her head. She isn’t sure what to expect from him anymore. He’s surprised her at nearly every turn. She prepares for him to toss the bowl in the air, or spin it on the tip of his tail.

No amount of preparation could save her from the shock of watching a long, pointed tongue unfurl from his mouth and lap up the frozen treat.

Her whole body simultaneously feels frozen, and unbearably hot at the same time. Either he has no idea what he’s doing to her, or he knows very, very well. His tongue coils around the ice cream like a serpent, bending and twisting and writhing in ways that make 2B’s mind conjure all manner of sinful acts.

Resolve shattered and stone burning in her pocket, she can’t fight the words that rise in her throat like acid.

“I want that inside me.”

9S stops. Everything stops. He’s fairly certain his heart stops beating too.

Did she...say…

Heat and pressure coil in his gut and suddenly his pants feel very tight. Panic and shame mix together in a horrid slurry, tearing at his insides with such fervor that he almost doubles over. He has to get out of here. He has to find a way out right now...

“I…” 9S stammers, “I have to go take care of something.”

Chapter 13: A Minor Distraction This chapter is Rated E

2B comes to the conclusion that humans are stupid.

Well, not stupid. 9S is far too intelligent for her to consider truly stupid. Rather, he seems so bound by human expectations and conventions that he acts as if he is stupid. 2B knows full well what he’s run off to “take care of”. Anyone with a functioning mind could figure that out. What she can’t figure out is why.

They are both attracted to each other in a sexual manner, why draw out this period of tension? Why not simply get it over with? He can’t enjoy this, can he?

She leans against a tree, mulling over her own frustrations. Yes, perhaps she was a bit too blunt with him and yes perhaps she forgot to present him with the stone, but if his current behavior is anything to go by it would have lead to the same conclusion.

Something 6O told her years ago comes back into her mind, something about how humans had strange rituals and societal limitations around sexual relations. The details escape her, but even the vague idea is enough to cause her frustration. Sure her own culture has its own behavior and conventions but those existed for mated pairs, not for casual sexual encounters.

She lets out a huff and smooths back her ruffled hair. It’s foolish of her to get so worked up over this. It should have been obvious to her from the start. 9S has demonic blood in him, and incubus blood at that.

A pang of guilt hits her like an arrowhead. Yes, his incubus heritage has...unfortunate connotations to it if she remembers correctly. 6O told her stories of human women visited in the dead of night by unnaturally beautiful men, only to give birth to a monster nine months later. Of course he would feel ashamed of any sort of sexual desire. Perhaps he feared losing control of himself and hurting her in some way, not that he could.

Still, agitation crept through 2B’s gut, mingling with guilt into a nauseating slurry. A part of her wants to track 9S down and just have her way with him, a very large part. At least she still has enough sense about her to keep those kinds of thoughts down. Now if only there was something she could do about the heat coiling in her gut. She needs to distract herself, it seems like a decent idea to give 9S some space at the moment. He doesn’t need to be more overwhelmed than he already is.

The little blue stone burns in her pocket. Maybe if she had explained herself thoroughly and gone through with her original plan, things would have played out differently. Or at least 9S wouldn’t be terrified of her… She hopes she hasn’t ruined her relationship with him because of her own desires.

Ugh...she needs to clear her head.

2B stretches out her arms, takes a deep breath, prepares to transform and take to the skies. 9S can defile whatever foliage he decides to. She has much cleaner means of relieving tension like this. However, a strange scent piques her interest just enough to keep her grounded for a moment, and a moment is all it takes.

It hits her full force, hard enough to throw her off balance. She reaches out to a tree to steady herself as her whole world spins. Every thought in her head leaves her, only to be replaced by carnal thoughts.

Of course. Of course someone with his heritage would have such powerful pheromones.

Uneven breaths make her chest heave. She can’t think of anything else, not unless she focuses all of her energy on simple concentration. Her face feels hot, no...her whole body feels hot. Especially the coiling pressure in her lower abdomen. It isn’t a new feeling, but it’s the first time she’s felt it this strong and outside the safety of the Elder’s Sanctum.

It’s the first time she can act on it…

Just the thought makes her mouth go dry. She could easily overpower him, make him submit to her and-...

No. Her willpower is stronger than these base urges. She wouldn’t forgive herself if she ever brought harm to 9S. She brings her sleeve to her face which mitigates some of the smell. If she can calm herself she can get through this through sheer will alone. This is nothing compared to the days confined to the Elder’s with the other unmarried women in heat. All of those hungry women in one home… It still makes her shudder to think about sometimes. Those meditation drills were nightmarish, though useful in this situation.

Don’t focus on the tightness in the stomach. Don’t think about the twitching of the muscles. Pay no mind to the dryness of the throat, or how the mind swims with carnal intentions. Focus on the self and the connection to the living world. Each breath, each beat of the heart is deliberate and strong. Do not waver to the will of the base self; command the body as if it were a warrior.

Slowly her body begins to calm and her mind clears. A brief sense of pride fills her as she inwardly praises herself and Coatyl practices. Perhaps all that isolative training wasn’t for nothing, even after leaving her people.

That all comes crashing down once she hears the sounds.

Rapid, heavy breathing, the faint echoes of flesh against flesh. Hell, she could almost hear his heart beating.

In the back of 2B’s mind, it’s funny to her how easily her resolve shatters. All it took was some lewd sounds and she’s storming through the forest. It’s not like she’s going to hurt him or scold him. She just wants to talk, if anything to tell him he’s being stupid. They were both adults, surely they could have a conversation about this sort of thing. Though...perhaps humans didn’t have the level of education on sex and sexuality that she and her kind received.

As she trudged through the forest it became clear that 9S would be in massive danger if there were any large predators lurking nearby. Anything on the hunt for easy prey would be drawn to the scent and sounds of the distracted half-breed. He probably doesn’t hear her footsteps or the shuffling of plant life around her. What an idiot. If she were someone else, she could have easily killed him.

Following 9S’ scent and sounds is an easy task for 2B. She’s used to prey being silent and unseen aside from flickering shadows and the rustle of leaves. With all the noise he makes he might as well have laid a stonework path for her directly to him. Even so, the closer she gets, the harder it becomes for her to think of anything beyond tearing the clothes from his body and-

The sight of a shock of white hair in the brush, rocking back and forth against a tree halts her line of thought. As she approaches, more and more of the lewd scene is revealed to her. With one arm propping himself up against the tree, 9S’ other hand is obscured by his body. His arm shudders, moving in time with the rest of his body, his hips bucking into his hand every so often. A desperate growl reaches 2B’s ears and stirs something inside her. It’s similar to the feeling she gets when about to strike an unsuspecting fish, something primal and predatory. It makes her stomach churn with disgust.

She moves closer, drawn in by his overpowering scent once again. A part of her hopes that he’ll become aware of her, that he’ll turn around and reprimand her for sneaking up on him, but he remains trapped in his hedonistic fantasies. His head tilts to the side slightly and for a moment 2B thinks he’s heard her, only for him to roll his neck and dip his head back against the trunk of the tree.

Frustration over different kinds boils over. She can’t stand by any longer. She must act, and put an end to this stupidity.

“Enough of this,” 2B commands and takes a step forward. Her voice is strong, echoing off the surrounding trees.

9S whips around, his face crimson red, “T- 2B?! What are you- !!”

He scrambles to cover himself with his discarded coat as 2B strides forward. Only a yard or so and a few shrubs separate them now. 2B can feel her mind hazing over once again.

“The way you acting. The hiding, the shame. It’s ridiculous.”

“I’m- 2B you-...,” he stammers and stumbles over his words.

2B can almost hear the blood surging through his body. It makes her mouth dry. She licks her lips before taking another step closer, “Are you afraid?”

“I…”

He looks like a prey animal, eyes wide and fearful, hands grasping at anything they can hold on to. 2B feels something tighten in her chest.

“Why bother to hide yourself. It’s no secret what you were doing.”

She reaches out to him, to the hand that holds his coat over his legs. As she takes his wrist in her hand she can feel the shivers wracking his whole body, and for a moment she thinks she may have made a mistake.

Suddenly, 9S’ body goes stiff with panic, “W- STOP!” he shouts and rips his arm away from 2B. He cowers against the tree, his fingers digging into the bark as if it would tether him to the earth.

2B finds herself without words, shocked by his sudden outburst.

“You can’t just...just do that! You don’t barge in on someone when-...” 9S’ face flushes a deep red as he shouts at her. His brow furrows and he even bares his teeth at her for a split second.

She bristles at his displays of aggression, but she can’t help but think, somewhere in the back of her mind, that he’s cute.

“I’m sorry,” she says dipping her head slightly yet grinding her fangs together.

“Well-...” he can’t hide his surprise but manages to maintain his outward anger, “Good.”

“I…” though the scents still cloud her mind, her better judgement resurfaces along with just a touch of shame, “I’m still learning these human customs. Your aversion to sexuality seemed useless to me. I thought...I thought if we could...fix this problem...you might be better off.”

“Fix...Did you mean-”

“I’ll leave you to your business, then.”

Before 9S can protest, she turns on her heels and steps over the small bushes that surround the tree he leans on.

“Wait! 2B hold on!” he yells and grabs at her arm.

His strength startles 2B, who stumbles backward.

“I...2B, listen…,” he says, bowing his head, “This...kind of thing with me...It’s complicated.”

“How?”

9S sighs, “It’s hard to explain. Since I don’t have...control...over certain abilities, I’m never sure. I don’t know if this is something I’m...making you feel, or if you're...if this is real.”

“I don’t understand.” 2B thought she made her intentions clear enough. Was there something she was missing? Some human courting ritual she never learned about?

“It’s got to do with...how I am,” he groans, “My incubus blood.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“Are you aware of what that means?” He huffs, “What can I do?”

2B shakes her head, “What, does it make you dangerous?” She finds it hard to believe that someone as non threatening as he is could be a threat to her.

“Not in the way you’re thinking of. It’s...I can make people...feel things. I guess you could say I can influence their minds, but I can’t...control it very well,” his head dips low, “There have been times before where people...have gotten too close and…”

There’s worrying hesitation in his voice. He curls into himself slightly before looking up at 2B with tired eyes.

“They weren't in their right mind when...when things almost went too far. I don’t want that to happen with you.”

Ah, now she understands.

“I am aware of what I am doing,” she says, her shoulders squared proudly, “And I am aware of what I want. But…” she sighs, “If you wish to be left alone, I will leave.”

9S bites his lip and in that moment of deliberation 2B feels her gut twist in a way she had never felt before. Could she be...afraid of rejection? No, that’s silly. It must be the arousal.

“You sure?” 9S asks in a meek voice 2B nearly misses, “What you want...it’s not something I’m...making you feel?”

“Yes,” she lies.

A heavy silence passes between them. 9S stares at her, piercing near-white eyes searching hers for something she can’t place. 2B waits for him to move. She thinks it’s best to allow him to lead, at least to start. He still seems frightened by her, so she will hold herself back. How long that lasts, though, she isn’t sure.

9S reaches out to her, cupping her cheek with his free hand. His thumbs idly traces the patterns of her scales as he studies her face intently. She feels his breath, heavy against her face, just before he leans in and presses his lips against hers.

It’s a surprisingly chaste kiss at first, both of them testing the waters so to speak. He applies a little pressure which 2B matches. He savors the closeness, weaving his fingers through her hair. A low rumble echoes in her chest, almost like a purr.

“Your hair is so soft…” 9S mumbles against her lips.

Frustration with his slow progression draws another low growl from 2B. She presses her body against his, feeling his heartbeat speed up and something twitch against her thigh. He bumps against the tree he hid behind, his breath hitching slightly with tangible panic. Not wanting to scare him 2B backs off of him a bit and allows him to pull away from the tree. She draws 9S back into her by forcing his lips to part and biting gently on his lower lip.

9S shudders at the sudden addition of teeth, a tiny sound escaping him like the mewl of a kitten. It only fuels 2B’s own building desires. She cups his cheeks in her hands, her thumbs rolling over his jawline, chin, and halting over his throat. The lump in his throat bobs with each trembling breath, his blood surges through his veins. Something in the back of her mind wants it...needs it, to open. 2B presses her thumb against one large vein in his neck and wonders how the blood that pulses through it would taste.

Her wish is granted not moments later, as her sharp teeth pierce the thin skin of his lower lip. 9S whimpers a bit but a quick swipe of her tongue soothes the pain quickly. Unfortunately, the moment his blood hits her tongue it sets off a terrifying reaction within her. She rips herself away from him and stares down at a very bewildered 9S.

“2B? What- !!”

With a fierce snarl, 2B slams him back against the tree so forcefully that for a moment his vision blurs. Her mouth is on his mere seconds later, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth. His pathetic mewls and body squirming against her own urges her to show more of her strength, to make him completely and utterly helpless, unable to put up any kind of fight. She wants total submission, and something tells her 9S will be more than happy to give it to her.

9S’ hands grab onto whatever part of her they can reach; one tugs at her hair, the other fumbling with her cloak and undershirt. Meanwhile her hands tear away his shirt with such frantic motions that her claws tear into his flesh. She breaks their kiss to scrape her teeth against his neck, revealing at the feeling of his blood thundering through his veins. It nearly drives her mad. His tail thrashes like an excited cat’s in response.

Once 9S recovers enough to retaliate, he worms his hands up 2B’s shirt. She shudders at his feather light touches as he traces the outlines of her muscles and scales. His touches are so reverent, a stark comparison to the way she manhandles him. Her hands twitch, aching to rip and tear him apart. She rakes her claws down his chest and begins to tug on the hem of his pants impatiently. Dimly she registers a wetness that coats the tip of her fingers but she pays it no mind, in fact it makes them tingle, as if they want more.

His hips rut against hers, desperately seeking relief, and 2B responds to it by crushing his body against the tree with her own. One hand dives beneath the hem of his smallclothes, gripping at his pronounced hip bones and teasing just above the base of his cock. The other hand pins his head back against the tree trunk, her claws digging into his scalp, marking him further.

“M-...ooore...please…” he begs.

Relenting to his touch, 2B shuffles out of her robes, leaving only her unbuttoned shirt, pants, and boots still on. 9S’ hands immediately move to her breasts and begin massaging them.

“Wh-...” 9S mumbles as he stares down at 2B’s body.

Her chest resembles a grown woman’s, but the hard scales remind him of her inhuman nature. With a curious glint in her eyes, 2B touches his chest, her clawed fingers lingering on a nipple. 9S’ breath hitches in his chest, betraying his sensitivity, so 2B ghosts the tip of her finger over it again. She remembers something 6O told her relating to these organs that female coatyls replicate in their human forms. Something to do with feeding their young. It isn’t important to getting what she wants from 9S, so she quickly abandons that train of thought.

“Down,” 2B commands, forcing 9S to sit in the dirt beneath her. Like an obedient pet he sits there, looking up at her with an expectant and exhausted look. Smears of blood cover his face and chest, but he doesn’t appear bothered by it at all. He doesn’t even look in pain. In fact, he looks just as hungry as she does.

Unable and unwilling to draw this out any further, 2B kicks off her boots and unceremoniously removes both her pants and 9S’ smallclothes. His cock twitches lewdly in the sudden cool air of the fast approaching night, and 2B feels her stomach tighten at the sight. In a show of courage that throws her off guard, 9S wraps his arms around her waist and presses soft kisses and vicious bites to her hips. Similar to her mimic breasts, the scales between her legs are thick, almost leathery to the touch. Even with his two pointed fangs, 9S’ bites barely pierce her skin, yet she lets out a low groan of approval and holds on to the nub-like horns that jut from his forehead.

Answering her demand from earlier in the day, the offhand comment that lead to this, 9S lets his unnaturally long tongue slide across her hips and dips between her legs. She instinctively parts her legs for him and tugs his head closer, urging him onward. Like an eager kitten he laps at her folds and occasionally slides his tongue inside her, just a bit. The sudden contact makes 2B dig her claws into the side of 9S’ head, staining his white hair with streaks of crimson. Though his motions are sloppy and frantic, 2B pulls his face closer and lifts one leg up to rest on his shoulder. Each time 9S hits a particularly sensitive spot with the tip of his tongue, the claws on her toes slice open his skin. Each spasm of muscle brings her leg down his shoulder, drawing more blood along the way. At one point her balance falters, and she accidentally drags her claws down his shoulder and chest, leaving deep gashes in their wake. To regain her balance she pushes forward on his chest, forcing him back against the tree and crushing her claws deeper into his chest. He bites his bloody lip to keep back a particularly loud moan.

9S looks up at her with dark, lustful eyes that mirror 2B’s. His mouth hangs open, breaths heavy on his lips as he begs wordlessly for her touch. She hastily kneels down, straddling his hips and positioning herself just over his aching cock. His bravery returns again, this time in the form of him bucking up to her. The tip of his cock just barely touches her wet folds, but the brief taste alone isn’t nearly enough for 2B. She slams his head back against the tree, pinning him to the bark, and slams herself down onto him.

They both cry out in surprise and pain. 9S writhes beneath her, his hands scrambling for any sort of purchase on her muscular body. His tail flicks wildly back and forth before winding around her waist.

“I don’t think…,” he wheezes, his voice hoarse and raspy, “You’re supposed to go that...fast.”

“Have you done this before?” 2B asks with a hint of a growl in her throat.

“N...No,” he admits. If he weren’t streaked with blood he might have been blushing, “Have you?”

“Not with a man.”

9S pushes himself up into her, using his hands as leverage. Taking the hint, 2B places her hands underneath his rear and holds him up. For a moment she takes notice of the heavy scarring near the base of his tail and wonders how those scars could have come to be.

They let instinct take over, which seems to counteract the awkward angle of their bodies. 2B grinds down onto his cock while 9S tries to thrust up into her despite being held in her iron grip. He finally moves in earnest when 2B’s hands grip onto his shoulders. Occasionally her claws rake down his back, causing him to cry out and arch his back into her nails. Each time his cock hits the same sensitive areas his tongue did mere minutes ago, she muffles her own cries by sinking her predatory teeth into his neck. Of course, he bites at her chest and shoulders as well, but her scales protect her from the little damage he can do.

“T-...I’m-!!”

Whatever 9S was going to say is cut off by a sharp whimper. He quickly buries his face in her breasts and clings to her, his hips bucking wildly and tail tightening its grip around her waist. Feeling the same tension and heat that she assumes 9S must be feeling, 2B draws one hand down between their bodies and hastens her own orgasm by furiously rubbing at the sensitive (and frankly neglected) nub. Just as she does, she feels 9S’ cock twitch inside her once, twice, and with a drawn out moan he comes. His entire body spasms in her grip and soon loses the tension that had built up within, but she isn’t done with him yet.

She slams him down into the dirt and pins him against the tree, the back of his head smacking into the bark. Her teeth sink into his neck again, marking him as hers over and over. The hand that isn’t between her legs digs into whatever flesh it can grab and marks him there as well. 2B rides his fast softening cock with the same ferocity as she would display in a fight to the death, and when the waves of pleasure finally wash over her, she clamps her teeth around the spot where his neck and chest meet. They will all know he is hers, that she is strong and has made him hers. She hisses as those waves disperse far too quickly, even though her muscles still spasm.

As the lustful haze disperses from her mind, 2B slowly rises from the ground. Even still, a wave of dizziness threatens to topple her. It’s only through willpower that she manages to remain standing.

With a deep and contented sigh, she turns to the rising moon and stars beginning to show themselves for the night, “We should hurry back. Don’t want you to get into trouble…”

As she looks down at 9S while hastily dressing herself, her eyes widen at the sight beneath her. It’s as if he had been attacked by some animal. Hideous jagged wounds cover his body, seeping blood onto the clothes he struggles to put on. His eyes are heavy, as is his breathing, and he looks far paler than normal. He looks up at her with glassy eyes and offers a smile of all things.

“Heh...Yeah…Don’t want-...” he groans as he pulls on his pants, covering the blooming purple bruises on his thighs and hips, “Jackass to...yell…”

The quivering waver in his voice sets 2B on edge. Something is wrong with him, he sounds weak. Too weak. As she reaches her hand out to help him stand, she recoils at the sight of her own blood stained fingers. In fact, nearly the entirety of her arms and even up to her chest is caked in fast drying blood.

Oh gods...what has she done?

9S rises to his feet, takes two shaky steps forward, and collapses onto the ground in a bloody heap.

“Tw...I don’t...feel good….” he wheezes.

2B believes herself to be unflinching in the face of any trail. It was what was instilled in her through years of rigorous training and studies. But the sight of 9S, crumpled and broken by her hands sends her into a panic. Her thoughts come and go faster than she can handle, all of her field aid knowledge seems to slip from her mind the instant she begins to wrap her robe around his body. It’s a crude way to protect his wounds from grievous infection, but it will do till she can get him to someone who knows what they’re doing.

And 2B knows just the person.

Luckily, most townsfolk are smart enough to stay inside at night, so 2B only ends up scaring the daylights out of the few guards and soldiers posted for the evening patrols. One of them calls out to her, but their cries fall on deaf ears, as she has only one focus at the moment.

As soon as 2B finds it, one solid kick to the infirmary door nearly breaks it off the hinges.

“6O!” she shouts, cradling 9S’ body close to her.

A chorus of grumbles from sleeping, bedridden soldiers answers her, followed by the sound of an annoyed druid storming up to her.

“What in the world do you need at this hour-...Is that Nines?!” 6O shouts, rushing over to his shivering body, “Good gods what happened to him?! To both of you?! You’re covered in blood!!”

“He-...I-...” 2B’s brain races to come up with some sort of explanation. She doesn’t want to get 9S into trouble, so she settles on the first lie that isn’t obviously stupid, “Bear. There was a bear.”

A strange look crosses 6O’s face for a moment, “...Okay. Follow me, quickly. Let’s get him down over here.”

2B follows 6O to a section of the infirmary closed off with a few curtains, possibly for more grievous injuries to be tended to. She sets 9S onto the small bed as instructed to by 6O, who immediately begins working. She removes the robe 2B wrapped him in, followed by his shirt and pants. Her hands alight with green energy as she prepares some healing spells to soothe his pain and help speed up recovery. 2B leans in close beside her, watching every movement 9S makes with hawk-like intensity.

“Is there anything I can do?” 2B asks.

“I need space right now,” 6O responds with a low, professional tone, “Go wait in my room, I’ll talk to you when he’s stable.”

“But-”

“Now, 2B. Go get yourself cleaned up.”

She’s known 6O long enough to know that when she speaks like that, there’s no arguing with her. Dutifully she exits the infirmary and silently makes her way to 6O’s quarters. A small washbasin sits near the druid’s bed, already filled. 2B cleans the blood from her hands and arms with a small rag that sits on the edge of the basin, then scrubs at her face. She lets her bloodstained clothes soak in the tub while she paces the room like a caged animal, waiting for 6O to return with news of 9S.

Each time she glances at the tub of murky red water, her stomach churns. It wasn’t supposed to be like this… She wasn’t supposed to hurt him. Yet she lost control of herself so easily…

Maybe she was a beast...just as they said…

2B isn’t sure how long it is before 6O returns to her, but it feels like days. She immediately rushes up to the Druid, who cleans her hands of blood on a wet rag.

“Is he okay?” 2B asks.

6O sighs and tosses the rag into the basin with 2B’s clothes, “He’s lost a lot of blood, and he’s dehydrated on top of that. But Nines is tough, despite his size. He should be back on his feet in a few days.”

2B let’s put a long sigh of relief, “Oh thank the gods…”

“However,” 6O shoots a piercing look at her, “Those wounds looked nothing like a bear attack.” She turns to 2B and crosses her arms over her chest, “Want to tell me what actually happened?”

“I…” 2B never noticed how intimidating those green eyes of hers could be. There’s no use lying to her now, but…”You won’t get him in trouble, will you?”

“2B…”

She huffs at 6O’s scolding mother-like tone, “We had a...little rendezvous in the woods outside the city.”

6O’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head, “You-...Those are from sex?!”

“...Yes.” 2B says, flinching away from her.

“Good gods, 2B! If I didn’t know better I would have thought he was maimed by a demon! He could have died!”

She stays silent, eyes cast down to the stone floor. In other circumstances, she might have snapped back at 6O, but she deserves every bit of this for what she’s done to 9S.

“2B.” 6O calls, “Did you hear me?”

“Huh?”

“I said,” she repeats, “Did he ask you to stop?”

“No…”

“Idiot boy.” She mutters under her breath.

“I...I lost control of myself. I don’t know what came over me…it was like I just...I had to be...like that with him…”

Immediately, 6O’s expression softens, “Oh, 2B…”

Her pity makes 2B’s stomach flip. It’s the last thing she wants from anyone at this point.

“Look,” 6O says, sitting on the edge of her bed and motioning for 2B to do the same, “Even though he’s a bit more resilient than other humans, he’s still just as...squishy.”

“I know that. It’s just...I thought I had better self control. I didn’t mean to hurt him…”

6O wraps her arms around her dejected friend’s shoulders, “Hey, I told you he’s gonna be okay. Besides, if I know that weirdo, he probably enjoyed all of...that a little too much.”

2B lets out a breathy chuckle, “Probably.”

She drifts into her thoughts while 6O continues talking. The Druid might have her faults, but she is an expert at calming 2B down when she gets lost in her own mistakes. Gods know where all this patience came from. She idly plays with the hem of her undershirt until-

“Oh shit, I forgot to give him the rock.”

[theateared]

                            HEADCANON  101  :  SELF  PERCEPTION.

A pretty upsetting but  CRUCIAL  element of Murr’s character has to do with how he views himself.  It shapes a lot of his interactions, even if only from a narrative standpoint, and I can’t expect people to know about it if I don’t explore it in posts of my own so here goes:

              MURR  THINKS  HE’S  SOME  SORT  OF  ‘DEMON / MONSTER’.

It isn’t as clear-cut as ‘a creature from hell possessed my body’ or ‘the devil tainted me’, nor is it even strictly a ‘demon’ that’s causing him trouble, but it inevitably has  SOME  religious connotations  (  of course, in relation to  HURON,  not Earth  ).  This pattern of thought stemmed from a few things, which I’ll do my best to go through in an organised fashion below:

MENTAL  HEALTH:  One of Huron’s biggest flaws is that there is no understanding of mental illness.  Though they have some excellent doctors and are as advanced as anybody in terms of physical treatments, ‘’brain science’’ isn’t an avenue they’ve explored yet.   This is because a large majority of Huron is actually incredibly happy, given their communal, simple lifestyles.  Because of this, Murr thinks that his struggle with  BPD  is the result of his own short-comings, not a mental health problem.  He thinks that his fractured sense of self exists because he’s weak and  ALLOWS  something to change him.   He thinks his memory is terrible because he  ‘’ISN’T  SMART  ENOUGH’’  to recall things in detail.  He thinks that he feels sad because he’s  UNGRATEFUL  and  LAZY,  not because he struggles with the depression that comes along with BPD.  This kid  REALLY  needs some therapy, basically, but there’s currently nowhere to turn to in his canon.

PAST  TRAUMA:  An imperative point of Murr’s character is the life that he’s endured because of things outside of his control.  It’s easy to forget the trouble he went through because, ‘’oh, his friend just cut contact with him.’’  but Kuro’s abrupt leave actually  DESTROYED  HIS  LIFE.   Not only did he feel very lonely and isolated, he  FAILED  COLLEGE  because Kuro didn’t show to help him with his final project like he said he would, which triggered Murr’s first real mental breakdown.  Kuro’s abandonment saw him  DEGREE-LESS,  DABBLING  WITH  DRUGS,  ATTEMPTING  SUICIDE  and later  MOVING  OUT  OF  HIS  PARENT’S  HOME  TO  LIVE  A  CRAZED  LIFE  IN  A  DANGEROUS,  UNCHARTED  PLACE.  It was a huge turning point, one he had no control over, and it’s important not to gloss over it just because it ‘’wasn’t as severe as some other things that could have happened’’.  But yeah, he thinks that hurting over these things that happened ‘forever ago’ is a sign of how  DEFECTIVE  he is, not because he’s traumatised and wasn’t actually allowed to grieve over that or work through it in a healthy way.  Though he’s taken a lot of steps himself in order to let go of things--  forcing himself to reintegrate with Huron, forcing himself to become ‘more mature’, rekindling his relationship with Kuro and getting him to realise the devastation he caused him, producing Sincerely, Me which explored his troubles in depth and for a wide audience to also absorb and connect with, writing multiple books exploring topics he himself had gone through / was dealing with in present time, and trying to build some relationships with other people, etc--  he still needs professional help when it comes to dealing with everything that happened.

FAMILIAL  RESPONSIBILITY:  Part of being a Murphy is accepting that you are  EXTREMELY BLESSED  and living in a way that benefits others--  to use your good fortune to give back to the community that raised you.  However, because of his struggle with BPD and his unfortunate decline during his tens, Murr spent a large amount of his time  AWAY  FROM  HURON,  instead living in the uncharted No-Man’s Land in order to deal with his troubles.  Though he chose that life in order to better himself--  to put distance between himself and the things that were hurting him so badly--  he was left feeling exceptionally guilty and greedy.  His familial responsibility settled from an early age, and he has yet to understand that he  EXISTS  OUTSIDE  OF  THAT--  that sometimes, it isn’t about what’s best for his namesake but what’s best for  HIM.  That feeling of being ‘’selfish at heart’’  inevitably makes him feel as if he’s been ‘’infected’’ by something.

So yeah:  Murr thinks of himself as somebody who has been afflicted by something evil and unfortunate, not realising that he’s actually pretty sick, needs genuine help instead of being ostracised or bad-mouthed by his peers. (  though he’s made a lot of progress with the people of Huron, earning their trust through his contributions to the district, he still receives a lot of shunning, criticism and blame  ),  and would probably benefit from medication too.  Sometimes, during dissociative episodes, which happen with varying degrees of frequency depending on the state of mind he’s in / the alter he’s posing as in that given moment, he sees himself as having small devilish wings and a forked tail.  His reflection / shadow also tends to move independently of itself.  Though he tries desperately to convince himself that it isn’t real, that his mind is messing with him, he inevitably winds up confused and uncomfortable, questioning his reality.  It only worsens that poor self-esteem.

[chimchimsauce]

Sanctuary (6)

Summary: YN is a young girl, bright and ambitious, but due to her busy schedule, she’s been unable to make any real friends. When an ad for Saint Mary’s Sanctuary catches her attention, she never expected her life to be changed by a certain hybrid named Jimin.

Tags: @feed-my-geek-soul @raspberryhaterade @dinorahrodriguez @loriosborne @majestikblue @younginfluencernut-blog @jiminotopia @yady24 @amoretti-rossetti  @j-hofe7 @scared-money @alina-foxy @catwhipes @cloudyfelix @justfollowbacon @chims-kookies @hoodiebangtan @xanny91 @catarina-catycaty @lewd-lemon @yaseminflames @lulanii @jeonsdear @omgsasusakulover @let-fred-live @perfectlyfangirling @daddyjoonie @meganleafmusic

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Chapter Five

Chapter Six

YN ignores all of Taehyung’s calls, refusing to answer them. A part of her thinks she’s being a bit petty, but the larger part sparks in fury every time she even thinks about what happened at Saint Mary’s.

She’s only known Jimin for about a week and during that week she’s come to care for him, but his behavior was both uncalled for and frightening. The short interaction raised several red flags in her mind, causing her to want to avoid him and the Sanctuary altogether.

By Wednesday, she’s made up her mind. All the drama of Saint Mary’s isn’t worth it.

And Jimin seems to be unhealthily attached to her. Sticking around will only make it worse, right? It’ll be best just to quit cold turkey.

Determined, YN pulls out her phone and blocks both Taehyung’s and Saint Mary’s number, feeling bittersweet about it.

She hopes that nothing bad happens to Jimin because of her, but she doesn’t think Saint Mary’s is that type of place.

Another busy work week passes, keeping YN from having any thoughts of Jimin, Saint Mary’s, or Taehyung. As a matter of fact, she’s filed the entire strange encounter up to a weird but finished memory, one she’ll tell her future children about. She thinks everything is. Her blatant ignoring should have made that clear.

So why is there an all too familiar blonde headed hybrid lurking outside her door?

YN slows, trying to figure out what she should do.

On one hand, she’s never seen the wolf outside the walls of Saint Mary’s. He looks so different, the birds chirping in the air and him leaning against her wall. He almost takes her breath away, dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and a pair of laced-up black converse.

But on the other hand . . .

“I can smell you, you know,” he says, not glancing up even once.

“What are you doing here? How do you know where I live? It’s not okay just to show up at people’s houses, Jimin,” YN says, not moving any closer.

The wolf finally looks up at her.

“I needed to see you - to explain myself and to apologize. I was majorly out of hand,”

YN shakes her head.

“An apology doesn’t do anything. I want you to leave and never come near me again. I can’t be around someone like you,”

Jimin flinches slightly.

“Please just listen to me. Just let me explain myself. If you still want me to disappear, I’ll do it. I’ll leave you and never come near you again,” His voice trembles.

“If you’re going to talk, do it there. Don’t come any closer to me,”

“Okay,” he says, wetting his lips a bit, “I . . . well, I snuck out. Taehyung helped me. Lent me some of his clothes. I don’t like that I smell like him,”

“You couldn’t just leave? Why’d you have to sneak out?”

“You do realize that I’m a glorified pet, right YN? Nothing I’ve ever done has been because I wanted to do it. Saint Mary’s has given me the most freedom I’ve ever had, and even then I can only go to certain places at certain times. Hell, I can’t even sleep as long or as short as I’d like. We have bedtimes. I’m twenty - four. Twenty - four,”

Frustration rolls off of Jimin in waves, YN feeling pity beginning to bloom in her chest.

“But I’m not trying to be ungrateful to Saint Mary’s. The Sanctuary is a wonderful place with kind people, the kindest I’ve ever known . . . but I’m there for a reason. Every hybrid is . . .”

He seems to struggle with his next words.

“When I was born, I was taken from my mother almost immediately. Hybrids may not be human, but the bond we form between those we love is just as strong, if not stronger. So, to prevent problems in the future, children are taken away. We stay with a human nanny until we mature. I was eight years old when I left mine, a cold woman who never once said or did a kind thing to or for me. After that. we’re supposed to go to school. We don’t learn what human did. I couldn’t even read. Instead, hybrids get behavioral training until they can be sold to the highest bidder,”

“I thought you couldn’t be adopted until you turned twenty - one?”

He just laughs.

“As if the breeders cared about that little law. But no one really goes to their masters until fourteen or so. But not me. I never went to the behavioral school. At eight, one of the biggest politicians bought me for his daughter, who was ten at the time. It started off pretty great. The politician and his wife were both major assholes, but the girl was an angel. Truly. She taught me things, treated me like a friend instead of a pet. But . . .”

Jimin pauses abruptly, hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

“But she began to change at sixteen. At first, it was small changes, her no longer sneaking me dessert from the kitchen. But it spiraled. By the time she turned eighteen, she wouldn't even look at me anymore. Pretended I didn’t exist. Would brush past me, act like she couldn’t even see me. I started acting out, misbehaving and getting in trouble, enduring horrible punishments from her family all to regain her attention. I even ran away one day but came back just six hours and YN . . .”

Indescribable emotion clogs up his throat.

“There was another hybrid. I wasn’t even gone a whole day and they had adopted a new hybrid, a bunny. Her face was all lit up and happy. All I could do was watch from outside the windows as they all cooed and fawned over him. I knew it was over for me. They’d thrown the few things I owned out all over the front lawn, all of it ruined, Shredded, burned, soaked . . .”

He trembles, wrapping his arms around himself.

Unintentionally, YN had taken steps toward him, getting close enough to see the fresh set of tears gathered in his eyes. Jimin wipes them away angrily.

“I had nowhere to go. No clothes, no food, no money. You’ve got to understand, YN. She was my world. My entire universe. The only thing I had ever known. And it was all taken away from me. I was thrown away like trash,”

YN feels her heart shatter.

“I found out later that it was because she’d been ashamed that I’m a wolf. All of her friends had cute hybrids. Bunnies and kitties and hamsters. Docile creatures. She began to resent what I was,” Jimin says bitterly.

“The next years were the worst of my life. Shortly after I’d been abandoned, desperate, I signed a contract with an underground club. A strip joint for people too poor to afford a hybrid of their own. I did what I had to do. At first, it wasn’t so bad. I just bussed tables, cleaned up after shows. Took the hits when someone got too drunk and angry. But at the end of the day, I had food, even if it was always scraps from the day’s buffet, stale and cold. At least I had a place to sleep, even if I had to sleep with one eye open. I could never go anywhere, do anything. I spent two years there until the owner wanted to add me to the show. Life had taken everything from me. My family, my home, my independence. The only thing I had left was myself. But if I stayed, if I did what they wanted me to, I would have nothing. Be nothing. So I ran. Lived in the streets and picked up odd jobs when I could. I didn’t have an identity, so I never had the chance to do anything or make anything of myself. Hybrids aren’t people. Human enough to be used to feed someone’s desires, but not human enough to have a life in anything other than subservience. That’s what I did for the next five years. Took jobs from people who didn’t ask questions. Made enough to buy enough food to keep living and slept in whatever abandoned building I could find. This year, I managed to find a stable job working at a gas station. But one day, some teenagers thought it would be fun to break-in to rob the place,”

His eyes are hard.

“Hybrid or not, I can’t do anything against a crowd or eight people armed with blunt objects. So when they ran away because sirens could be heard in the air, I lay there, preparing to bleed out,”

Jimin looks up into the sky.

“I thought, ‘This is it. This is how I die. Live a pathetic life, die a pathetic death.’. But apparently, one of the EMTs figured out I was a hybrid when she took my vitals and I got courted off to Saint Mary’s,”

“And then,” he begins, looking at me like I held all the secrets to the universe, “I met you. You, who somehow smelled like home. Not a physical place, but the comfort and familiarity of home. And I just had to see you again. Meet you again. And when I did, you weren’t afraid of me. You didn’t treat me like the dirt under your shoes. You joked and laughed and cared. And I had to see you again and again and again. Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,”

He’s crying now, they both are.

“And I’m sorry how I acted. I never meant to yell at you or make you feel bad. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just -,” his voice cracks into an ugly sob, “I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me. I wouldn’t either -”

The hybrid doesn’t get to utter another word before a pair of arms are wrapped around him like a vice. Instantly, his nostrils are flooded with her scent, Jimin burying his face in her neck.

Chapter 7

[zelink-nalu]

Not a monster Epilogue

Inky's POV.

It's been over a year now. Uncle Tom helped relearn how to walk again and taught me how to use sign language! He's really nice to me!

But... I can't help but feel lonely most times...

I mean, don't get me wrong! Uncle Tom still hangs out with me whenever he can!

But... The thing is... He hardly has time to play with me... I feel so bad for being such an ungrateful demon, he already did and still does so much for me!

On the plus side! I get to practice my flying at night! It wasn't easy to find a good place to fly, so I had to go to the upper levels, on Heavenly Toys! I know, I know, I'm not supposed to go there... But I only go there at night so there's nobody around! Still, don't tell papa Joey this, or else he'll be even more mad at me!

Oh! It seems like it's night! Welp! Time to go roam around the lower levels!

Wait... I hear voices... But who would still be here at this hour?

Maybe I should investigate!

???'s POV.

"You sure it's a good idea buddy? Mr. Drew precisely told us not to go to the lower levels." A certain cartoon wolf said.

It's Boris The Wolf!

"C'mon Bo! Ain't ya curious about why Joey told no to go there?" A smaller cartoony figure asks the wolf.

And it seems like he's Bendy the Dancing Demon!

"I am, but-"

"Besides, he ain't here now, is he?" The devil adds with his iconic smile.

"Guess you got a point there..."

"What are you two doing here!" A female voice suddenly exclaims.

It's Alice Angel!

"Ugh! Not her!" The Lil Devil Darlin' groans in annoyance.

"Uuuuh... Hi Al..." says the cartoon wolf, embarassed to be caught.

The angel just glares at them.

"Joey said we're not allowed to go the lower levels!"

"Ain't ya in there with us right now Angel?" The demon argues back.

"I'm here to fetch you guys so it doesn't count! Now come on you two! Let's go back to our rooms!" She went to drag them by the arms but was stopped by her older (though smaller) brother swatting her hand away.

"Ya can't tell me what to do! I'm older!" he exclaims, clearly annoyed.

Alice just glares at him.

"I may be the youngest but I sure am the most mature one out of all of us!" She argues.

"Well-" CRASH!

Their arguements were interrupted by a loud crash. It seemed to come from a corridor on their right.

They slowly turned to face the direction where the noise came from and saw a can of Bacon Soup roll on the floor. They came closer to each other with Alice in front of them!

"Wh-Who's there?! Come out and show yourself! I'm not scared of you!" She exclaims, trying not to show her fear.

After a few seconds of silence, the see an inky figure come out.

A very tall figure with large black bat wings. When it came close enough for them to properly see it, they were petrified.

There was a long uncomfortable silence, until...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!"

[!!!!!]

Time skip brought to you by the sleep-deprived author.

Tom's POV.

Inky has been feeling down these past few months. He must be feeling lonely, especially since I don't have any time to play with him... Poor kid, I hope I'll soon find a way to help him.

It was all Joey's fault! He purposely gave the mechanic more work to make sure that he couldn't take care of the ink demon!

Speaking of him, the boss seemed rather agitated. He was running around calling the toons' names. As much as he liked them, he needed to go see Inky and make sure that he's alright.

A big surprise awaited him when he came to his office.

The toons were there... Playing with the plushes... With Inky...

Needless to say, it was quite a sight.

"Oh! Mr. Connor! We just met Inky last night and he said, or rather wrote us, that you could explain to us what's going on!" Boris said with a smile. "Although for some reason he won't talk to us and would instead do weird gestures or write what he wants to say." Alice then adds.

"The wierd gestures you're talking about is called 'Sign Language'. Inky's mute s he uses that to comunicate easily." Tom explains them.

"Oooh!" They all say in unison.

"Ok! Now can you what's going on?" Bendy asks, getting impatient.

"I don't know, it's quite complicated..." Tom then looks at Inky, only to see him with a pleading expression on his face and with his hand flat on his chest, making circles with said hand.

[Please!]

"*sigh* Alright..." Tom accepted.

"Wait! What did he say?!" Bendy asked, curious about this new language. Before the man could say anything though, someone else beat him to it.

"He said 'please'." Boris answered and when the others looked at him shocked, he added: "He looked like he was sayin' that."

"Alright then, let's get the story time over with."

And let's just say that the toons were shocked but also happy about knowing that Inky was their youngest sibling. Especially Alice.

They also promised themselves that they convince Joey to give their brother as much freedom as they have.

The End.

__________________________________________

And, it's finally done! And it's almost 5 am... I think I need to go to sleep...

Anyway! Thank you so much for your support! I love you guys so much!!!!x3

A little disclaimer: I'm not done with this AU!!! There are still a lot of things I'll be doing for it!