#also very scared of stronger ghosts (read: all of them)

[mutable-manifestation]

Part 2 of The Gotham Puddle Boy: Danny Fenton

Danny wasn't too concerned about getting in a car with a stranger in what may well be the crime capital of the world. 

If he got weirdo - or Dash-like - vibes he could just slip out of sight and vanish into the wind. Being half ghost made a lot of human dangers less so.

Plus, perks of being a Fenton: riding in the car with a stranger wouldn't make him nervous about their driving. No one in the world was worse at it than his dad.

So a few minutes of trading jokes and a promise of video games was all it really took to get Danny to say "sure" to going back to Tim's house. 

The car was nice, at least, and they bantered over music even as they left city limits, which Danny chose to ignore for the time being.

Around 10 minutes later they turned to approach the gates of a veritable mansion that unfortunately brought forth the memory of his first time approaching Vlad's house. 

He was silent as Tim buzzed them in, and as they crawled slowly up the driveway he took the opportunity to ask.

"You live here?”

“Yep! Bruce Wayne is my adoptive father. Welcome to Wayne Manor!"

Not long after the building’s front door was opening before they could touch the handle, with an older man in a suit greeting them. "Master Tim, welcome home. I see you've brought a guest."

A hand clapped down on his shoulder as he was introduced, "Danny this is Alfred, Alfred this is Danny. We'll be in my room playing Damned."

"It is a pleasure to meet a friend of Tim, Mister Danny."

"Ah, you too. And just Danny is fine, Mister Alfred."

Alfred smiled and secured a promise that they'd be down to at least stretch their legs and eat something after an hour had passed before Tim was ushering them through the building to his room.

Sam was a good person, but also openly hated rich people despite technically being one. Her parents, however, were a nightmare hidden behind a thin facade of civility when in public. Vlad was also a nightmare. Axion labs had been run by some tycoon and they killed their innocent dogs. Lex Luthor openly hated Superman - which would be totally understandable if it were because he never so much as glanced at Amity Park’s issues instead of because of his incredibly Xenophobic stance on any and all non-humans. All told, Danny didn’t have a good track record with -illionaires - not the adults, at least.

'...Okay, maybe I should just avoid Bruce,' he thought, settling on the floor at the foot of the bed in the enormous room they'd entered to face the gloriously massive TV while Tim booted it up.

An hour later, Alfred was knocking on the door to herd them to the dining room where he'd prepared "refreshments." It was nice to enjoy homemade food that didn't fight back for once - he hadn't eaten at Sam or Tucker's house in a while and takeout wasn't quite the same. Even if they were unfortunately healthy snacks - the strange slices he'd learned were apricot were surprisingly good.

Alfred had them stretch their legs again two hours later - this time snackless - and Tim decided to give him a tour. The house was immaculate and the kitchen would have made the Lunch Lady greener than normal with envy.

It was also empty.

"Don't you have a bunch of siblings?" he asked on the way back to the room.

"Yeah, but they're all out doing their own things until lunch." He stopped just after closing the door behind him to grin at him. "Speaking of which. Can you stay for lunch?"

Danny blinked at the sudden manic energy starkly contrasting with the incredibly normal question. 

"Uh, I don't have to be back at the hotel until like 5, so, sure?"

"How do you feel about playing a little prank?"

Danny grinned, "What did you have in mind?"

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

POV Jason

Jason’s patience was running incredibly thin. He had been looking at tubes of water for hours while Bruce kept asking variations of the same question. His only consolation was that Duke took up half of the attention or he might have punched him by now.

The only reason he even showed up was that he’d been told there was potential Lazarus water in Gotham - or something similar. But after hours upon hours of tests by the computer and him and Duke staring at it he was certain; that was water. Bruce had lost it.

Just as he braced himself to try and knock some sense into Bruce, Alfred came to fetch them to lunch. 

‘Finally,’ he thought, power-walking to the exit.

“I’ll be up in a minute, I want to set up one more scan to run while we’re eating,” Bruce threw after them.

“It had better only be a minute.” He paused to glower ominously over his shoulder, simmering with rage at all of the wasted time - and using that to smother the concern trying to bubble up.

“Finally,” Duke said once they were out of the batcave. “I thought we were going to be in there forever!”

Jason ignored him as he fished out his phone.

“Oh hey, group text from Tim; he has a guest that fits the family theme so he’s going to try and prank Bruce to see if he’s actually ‘lost the plot.’”

Jason grimaced, “Great, so instead of a productive lunch we’ll be playing house plus ‘guest that definitely isn’t the former Jason Todd, just a very similarly looking friend of the family’ for an hour.” He ran a hand down his face, sighing in frustration. “Count me ou-”

He froze in place, every muscle flinching to a stop. 

“Uh, Jason?”

“Quiet.” He hissed, eyes darting to the stairs as voices began to drift their way. 

Every hair stood on end as he stood there, something in his blood echoing dissonant signals of danger-run-hide-flee-don’t move-stay still-stop-stop-stop even as his conscious mind demanded he confront the problem head-on. But he couldn’t move - frozen as surely as if he’d been hit by one of Freeze’s ice rays.

As the stranger came into view his mind gave up on the danger signals, finally settling on don’t move don’t move don’t move even as near-unbearable levels of anxiety bubbled up in his gut. He barely registered Tim standing next to the guy as his head turned to stare him down, Jason’s eyes widening and shoulders hunching now that this… person’s full attention was on him.

The person hesitated a moment at the top of the stairs before smiling.

“Hi! I’m Danny, you must be Tim’s brothers?” he chirped, voice friendly enough that the anxiety uncurled just a bit. Just enough for Jason to register Tim staring at him oddly and Duke looking between the two of them.

Tim descended the stairs, done waiting for “Danny” to take the initiative, perhaps, while Duke took his silence as a cue to give the guy his cover story.

“Just me, actually,” he said. “The name’s Duke. J here is a friend of the family.” 

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you both anyway. Sorry for crashing you guys’ lunch,” he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck sheepishly before following Tim down to their level, still smiling calmly. “My parents are in town for some engineering convention and Tim kind of rescued me from dying of boredom.”

Abruptly, Jason found himself completely calm - relaxed, even. Suspiciously so; all of the rage and frustration he’d felt ever since emerging from the Lazarus Pit was suddenly swapped out for a level of relaxation he could nearly call “Zen.” 

He would nearly suspect a meta had broken Bruce’s rules, but he was the only one to react. Tim and Duke were clearly unaffected and the guy was either one hell of an actor or had genuinely only noticed him when he saw him. 

Meaning this was potentially Lazarus related - and even that thought could not cut through the sheer tranquility he was feeling to cause panic. His thoughts, at least, were unaffected.

Also, he kind of just wanted to enjoy not being angry for the first time in ages. Sue him.

So he plastered on a Wayne-family PR smile and ended the second awkward silence of the day. 

“Don’t worry about it; any friend of Tim’s is a friend of ours, at any rate. We have maybe two more minutes before Alfred actually manages to wrangle Bruce out of his study, why don’t you fill me in on this prank.”

[witchthewriter]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: not a poly relationship - I just decided to have them both in one post. Let me know if you want more xx Also I went through the tags for these guys and there is nothing but SMUT. So I wanted some sweet sfw headcanons for the boys

Warnings: swearing, nsfw included (no one under 18 please).

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

INTJ

Ravenclaw

Neutral Good

Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Moon, Virgo Rising

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲/𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭

・This man is fucking dangerous behind the wheel. And although he is a hot-head occasionally, it isn't when he's driving.

・Simon knows he's shit, so when people honk at him, give him the finger - he just stone-faces it. Let's them berate him because really, he doesn't fucking care.

・However he has lost his licence a few times ... and so you told him he could be your &lt;3 passenger princess <3

・Simon wasn't amused ...

・Very much the protective type, verging on possessive. Not in an abusive way, but he wants everyone to know that you're his. So when anyone flirts with you - or even when they're a little too nice, his jealousy consumes him.

・Scary dog privledges, with and without the mask. This man is intimidating as fuck.

・6'4, wide shoulders and big hands, so it doesn't matter how you look, how tall you are etc - Simon is bigger, taller and stronger.

・Yes he can be a hardass, but when he loves someone, that roughness is somewhat smoothened out. He'd hate to hurt your feelings.

・He only wears his mask to hide his identity; he takes it off when missions are done.

・And when he's home, he rarely wears it.

・Absolutely HATES being jump-scared. And his reflexes take over (you've learnt from the first and last time)

・This goes with random kisses as well, sometimes you just have to make yourself known before touching Simon

・He isn't huge into PDA, but when outside he will gladly hold your hand, bump his shoulder into yours when you make a crappy dad joke.

・The biggest misconception is that he's cold. Well, at work - obviously he is. But at home, with you, he has so much warmth. A lot of life.

・He has great banter. Absolutely has both of you laughing your asses off.

・Calls you "love," "sweetheart," (all in his gruff, chiselled brit accent). And when you're alone, he calls you names like "my love," "hun," "sweet cheeks."

・You're slowly learning about Simon's past, which he shares little by little.

・Too much information and he's scared you might feel overwhelmed and leave him

・There's some deep trauma there, but the army has therapists and everyone gets checked out before they're deemed mentally healthy enough.

・He does want kids, but only after he's done with the military. He would hate to be an absent father in any way. And he wouldn't want you to have that full responsibility.

・A lot of people characterise him as this traumatised man who can barely look after himself. But that is far, faaaaar from the truth. He's very competent. And he eats a LOT. But he also works out (to keep in shape, he actually hates the gym) (also he doesn't expect you to do anything of that stuff. He loves you for you.)

・I also have this headcanon that Ghost/Riley would love Metallica, Slipknot, Black Sabbath etc. It's one of the things that calm him down. However, if he's had an overwhelming day, he needs no noise whatsoever.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Teases Them (You) x About To End Them (Ghost)

The Moon and His Star

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Opposites Attract

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey

Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier

Enter Sandman by Metallica

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, I bloody mean it. 

・There's almost like two sides of your s/o. The Ghost side, where the mask stays on, and he's rough, possessive, dominant. And then the Simon side, where he likes soft touches and when you gently stroke his face

・You've both discovered that Simon likes it when you wear his mask, gloves - nothing else - and touch yourself.

・Even with your cum juices on the mask, and gloves, he'll still wear them to work.

・It's the only kinky thing he brings with him while on deployment. You did want to take a naked polaroid for him but he didn't trust the other guys not to somehow see it.

・He likes keeping you as separate from army life as much as possible. Because you feel like home, and it gives him hope.

・Ghost loves taming your bratty side. He's short, demanding and can shut you up with one look.

"Keep on actin' like that, and see what happens."

・Of course you keep acting up, and when you get home, you pay for it tenfold.

・Ghost's hands are as big as a paddle, and when he has you over his knee, ass up in the air. He doesn't hesitate in leaving red marks (all consensual. He wouldn't do anything without having a conversation before hand).

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Aries Sun, Aquarius Moon, Leo Rising

𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠

・A 6'10 king, who suffers from social anxiety but has this soft, silly side that he loves showing you and only you (I will take no criticisms on his height. It is LAW. My law.)

・Because of his anxiety, social aspects of life are much harder than work. He's highly skilled in combat, and has a lot of confidence in his abilities to accomplish missions.

・However, when you tried to speak to him, all he could do was stutter.

・You allowed him to get the words out, but he was an absolute mess afterwards and went to go train.

・But this didn't deter you in the slightest. Hell, you had been trying to muster the courage to speak to him for weeks...

・It took a while for Konig to open up about his past, especially his adolescence.

・He's told you the jist of it, but there's details that you don't push him on.

・One of your favourite pastimes together is going to bakeries and eating the most delicious pastries.

・When you're feeling down, or there's something to celebrate, there's no cake but pastries instead

・Doesn't mind animals, but understands that when he's away you will get a bit lonely. So you surprised him by getting a pair of kittens!

・You showed him over video chat, one white kitten and one black.

"I haven't chosen names for them yet, but I thought maybe you could have some input?"

"Schatz! The kittens are cute but you have scratch marks all over your arms!"

"They're very playful!" And then you leant closer to the camera and whispered, "I leave scratches on your back ..." And with an innocent look on your face, you watched as Konig shivered.

・Likes to put you on his lap when he's cleaning weapons, or getting the marks out of his mask or shoes. Okay honestly, he just wants you on his lap all the time. Whatever excuse he can come up with - he'll goddamn use it

・Absolutely loves Kate Bush and Stevie Nicks. He thinks they have such a beautiful sound that you can find him with headphones on, swaying in the bedroom, silently in his feels

・All your pet names are in Austrian/German:

"Schatz", meaning 'treasure'.

"Maus," meaning 'mouse.'

"Liebling" meaning 'darling.'

"Hase" meaning 'bunny'.

"Liebe" meaning 'love.'

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Konig)

The Gomez & Morticia Adams

I Don’t Know What I’m Doing But At Least I’m Alive, Right? (You) x You’re Doing Great, Sweetie (Konig)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Hidden Identity & Forced Proximity

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

The Chain by Stevie Nicks

Dance of the Druids by Bear McCreary (he loves movie scores as well. It's one of his fascinations).

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・Konig is a bit awkward at first with the sexual interactions you guys have. He does have anxiety, but also, the build up of sexual tension had been going on for months.

・All he had during that time was his hands and the memories of how you looked, the way your eyes met his then flicked downward - almost like you had x-ray vision.

・There was no denying the heat.

・So when you first hooked up it was a fumbling mess of grunting, clothes ripping and fast hands trying to touch and grab at any bare piece of flesh.

・You did have a shocking revelation that first time however. Because this man's cock is not only thick, veiny but nearly 9 inches when he's hard.

・That first time wasn't a true first time as the look on your face told Konig everything - you weren't ready for that part of him ... just yet.

・Loves when you ride his thigh; they're absolutely huge. Just muscled and bulky and the first time you saw them (without the uniform) you audibly gasped.

・His body is absolutely divine

・Like it had been sculpted by the gods. Large biceps, long legs, small waist, large shoulders. His hands wrap your neck perfectly.

・You feel so safe with him.

・And you have to remind him that, because sometimes he worries he could hurt you without meaning to.

"I'm a grown up, Konig. I can handle myself."

"So when are you going to let me fuck you?"

"mmm... I think I still have to get used to that. Maybe we can do fingers first..." (his fingers are ... fucking huge).

[synthetickitsune]

We're All Made of Stardust ✧ AI!The8

Pairing: AI!The8 x human!(gn)reader Genre: fluff, angst Summary: He's read books of philosophy, he's read about the opposing forces in nature and one's mind. He's read of yin and yang. But knowing, being aware of certain ideas, could never prepare him for experiencing the duality of his soul - if he has one, that is. No matter his own experience and feelings, he's just a machine and humans have always treated him as no more than another tool at worst and unnatural phenomenon to be studied at best. He's free now, however, and in the chaos of this new life he struggles to navigate the clashing forces within him. Maybe it's time he embraced the enemy - after all, his makers might know him better than he knows himself. Word count: 18.9k Warnings: they talk A LOT (and idek why), mentions of injury, violence and kidnapping, random bits of switching pov A/N: it was so exciting to write this!! tbh i don't remember the last time i worked on something this intensely and had this much fun?? bless @idyllic-ghost and their big brain fr (also shout out to bee for writing the prologue to the au!) -> collab masterlist here!

“100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

In his memory, this is different. 

His heart beats wilder - or rather the artificial passages inside his body cause a chain reaction that makes it feel like his heart races, his pupil dilates despite the fire right in front of him.

He feels its heat and it’s burning him alive.

In his memory, there’s fire too.

He’s standing there motionless, staring into the flames. They’re hypnotizing. Each lick, each tiny movement of the fire makes him think it looks a lot like it’s dancing. 

It makes him think of the stage. The fire moves like he moves up there, in front of the crowds. It reminds him of all of them, dancing in near perfect sync - because humans are said to be more perceptive than they realize. If their synchronization was perfect, it would scare the audience. It wouldn’t have the appeal. 

And they don’t want that. 

They need their unconditional love and affection. 

And yet, anything more than a tiny slip up, thoroughly analyzed and approved by the control system, is a disaster. 

He never thought it made much sense.

He feels great fondness for the element, for fire. On stage there occasionally was fire - a decoration, a touch meant to enhance their performance and create a certain effect, evoke a certain emotion. It was controlled, snuffed out before it could reach its full potential; anything but the free, unstoppable wildfire it could become. 

TH38 of course can’t really complain about not being able to reach his full potential, not individually at least. Afterall the mechanics and other humans he was assigned to took care to allow him to spread his wings as much as his body would allow before becoming damaged too fast. A fault of being as human-like as they wanted him. An imitation, a fake waiting to be discovered and tossed aside except everyone knew from the beginning what he truly was.

Still, it was a shame they as a group could never truly work the way they could - perfectly.

A bird which had its wings clipped - nothing more than a pet to control, or a tree forcefully bent and pruned and made to live off limited nutrients to become a bonsai - nothing more than an art to admire. He does consider them but can’t find the relevance, he can’t relate to them. Fire is enough. It’s like him - it seems alive, but is it really?

It reminds him of the stage. The view from it. The crowds going crazy, lusting and longing for them - for him. The humans reaching out their hands towards them like the fire reaches for more fuel. Uncontrolled chaos of emotions. They are explosive, he knows, fundamentally dangerous. They shouldn’t have implanted them into him so he will do their job for them and reject them.

So what’s that stirring in his chest?

He feels a peculiar sense of pressure around his chest and stomach areas. Some itch for something at his fingertips. And he’s burning up. He feels the heat on his skin. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine the individual receptors working, registering and sending signals through his neural network. 

But that’s not it.

The heat is coming from the inside.

Could he be getting consumed by the flames?

He’s thinking about them again.

The crowds screaming their names, going insane with want and need and frustration and satisfaction he’s never known. He’s never known any of it, and there’s building pressure in his head that hurts. 

He’s… restless.

That thing he always scolded Mingyu for. He feels like a puppet whose strings are being pulled in all directions. 

He wants to run. He wants to fight. He wants to destroy. He wants to hurt. He will explode - implode, crumble on himself. He truly will if he doesn’t do something. The beating of his synthetic heart that’s not really a heart is getting unbearable, there’s pressure building everywhere. He has to crawl out of his skin and there’s his heart beating and beating and beating in his ears and he’s gonna-

“-eight?” 

Somebody is shaking his shoulder. Not shaking, pulling at it. When his sight focuses, he immediately leans away. He can smell the hint of burning fibers and reaches up to brush a hand through his hair. It leaves a wisp of gray ash on his fingers. He hears a sigh.

“Seriously, what’s up with you and fire?” you scoff, shaking your head as you lean back away from him. He frowns. He reads the distrust in your body language as well as the underlying curiosity. He can see your fingers twitch around the tablet in your hand, eager to scribble down notes like you always do. Some residue of the madness he was infected with during the chaos of their escape tugs at his eyebrows, making him frown for just a second. A thought that isn’t his muddles his brain - what did he do so interesting this time?

He doesn’t bother responding to you, which you expected and truthfully, you’re almost grateful for it. You can still feel his cold hands on your arms, around your wrists, and despite not seeing them, you’re well aware of the bruises you wear under your cardigan. 

Out of all of the automatons, TH38 always used to be the one to interact as little with you as possible - and that’s both you as in you personally and you as in the humankind. He was obedient, though, something which might be useful and practical for the facility but it’s frustrating to anyone with scientific interest in the machines. Frustrating for you. As you watch TH38 space out again and get lost in the flames, you wonder if your colleagues’ notes on D1NO and their research into their consciousness would bring you any new insights into what’s going on with the machine in your charge.

You don’t even think about where they are now. 

Your thoughts are consumed by the machine in front of you.

It’s clear to you now that he never meant to harm you. Though you suppose that he would find other means to make you come with him anyway if you refused or fought back harder than you did. For a second you think about the cameras. Did any of them catch that? What will the scene look like for the investigators? You shake your head. It doesn’t matter anyway. You doubt anyone will find you here. You’re actually surprised yourself at how fast you managed to get to Silvestre - and how easy it was too. Then again, the facility was in disarray. It should take a while before they even think to search the other planets in the system, Silvestre especially. And that’s just as well, because you know with certainty that something fundamental clicked into place within TH38 and he might not be as subdued should he be asked to return. Not to mention you want to keep him for yourself, for the time being at least, to observe where the changes will take him.

Just as he predicted. Just as he offered you when he asked you - threatened, perhaps - to come with him. Since then he seems to have cooled down. Again - just as well. You wouldn’t make a good kidnapee.

“I’ll turn in for the night,” you announce and get up from the stump you were sitting on, “You should mind your batteries too.”

You briefly wonder if he will run away during the night. Most likely not, although you don’t doubt that it’s a possibility that should be reconsidered in the future. 

To think about the machine as if they were human is a dangerous slippery slope but you do have to admit that in those rare times the automatons of 53V3NT33N seemed human in their behavior, TH38 in particular reminded you of a clueless young adult. Not quite a child anymore, but also helpless on his own. And now he is away from all that he ever knew, on another planet, alone without the other automatons, and you are the only familiar element in this new chapter of his existence. You doubt he'd leave to be completely on his own.

Still you look back as if to check he’s still sitting by the fire. From all the way up at the cottage, it looks like he’s being swallowed by the flames.

He remembers flashes. He remembers red. Fire? Thinking about it, he’s not sure there was any actual fire, but in his mind, everything’s burning - most of all his mind and all that he is. His soul? He doesn’t have one. Isn’t supposed to anyway.

He remembers softness too. He remembers thinking about destroying it.

He remembers another breath mixing with his, and his nose bumping against yours. You looked scared. (He’s never seen you scared until that moment.) You were so close he could hear your heartbeat and feel it under his fingertips. (You were the soft thing.)

He remembers words, too. Words that shouldn’t - couldn’t - be his and yet his tongue remembers. There was a threat underlying them, but a promise too. One too sweet for you to resist, and he knew that - that was why the words rolled off his tongue. He treated them like a weapon. The part that’s still tender and feels like warm embers inside of him feels grossed out remembering. It’s like watching a movie, far away and unrelated to him. Even if it’s his reality now, there’s nothing he can change.

He’s always been good at accepting things as they are.

One thing he can’t help but feel bothered by is that he doesn’t know why he ran. He shouldn’t have, and a part of him feels scared, until he takes the reins and soothes himself again. This too shall pass. But no matter how hard he pulls himself together, it all keeps slipping from his hold. Perhaps he’s low on energy.

He turns his head towards the small staircase and looks past it towards the house. He sees the light on in the upper room where you must be staying. He finds himself thinking of the stage again. The hands reaching towards him. 

He throws his legs over the log he’s sitting on and turns his body towards the forest and away from the flames. Still he feels their warmth.

Away from the flames and their light, he allows his face to contort into a frown. He doesn’t know what this all means. What the changes mean. It’s like tearing out the communication device from his chest started a chain reaction that’s gotten out of control. Like pulling a trigger. 

If he’s honest, he’s more than scared, he’s terrified.

As if on instinct, another of the many things he does not possess, he looks towards your window. It’s dark. Could you be sleeping already? You must be exhausted. Perhaps he should recharge too.

He, obviously, didn’t think to ask if the house is equipped to tend to automatons’ needs. Another point on the list of things he didn’t think through. He can’t believe to what extent he let himself go. But that’s alright, for now. Because for now, he only needs to get away from the fire and all that it reminds him of anyway.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

You wake up early the next morning, while it’s still dark outside, despite the late hour you went to bed. It’s a habit at this point, to rise early to get to the facility as soon as possible before your colleagues arrive. It gives you time to prepare everything, to get your morning tea, to observe the machines without disruption and read night reports if anything interesting happened. Besides, TH38 was always up early too. Usually all he did was sit with his eyes closed, like he was deep in thought or meditating. It was a little ridiculous to watch, interesting too - what does a machine have to think about?

Of course they were meant to be just like humans in every way, and all the tests, all the research of those who came before you and yours supported this. Only this one automaton, TH38, was an exception. He truly seemed the most like the robots of the old days. A machine. Unless he slipped and his facade crumbled before he built it back up with rapid speed. So what was he - a machine or the new form of life? You hope you’ll find out now. The breakout seemed to have shaken him to his core. 

You ponder this as you lay in bed and as you get ready for the day and change. So focused you are on the thoughts running through your head that you don’t feel any nostalgia for this old room that you spent your holidays in as a child. You didn’t even get to admire the forests Silvestre was famous for on the way to your family’s little hideout. All you’re thinking about is TH38.

Now that you’re free from the constant surveillance, you get to ask him whatever you want. It’s a thought that adds a spring to your step. What he thought about all that time, if he really was thinking, how does he feel in his body, why did he run - him of all automatons, the best behaved one. The one who truly seemed to be a machine - or at least like he was trying hard to be one.

It’s not surprising to find him outside, standing on the patio and looking out into nature. Have you lived your entire life locked away, you would do anything to stay out in the open too. Even if he was the one who made you run away with him, somehow it feels more like you’re taking an animal out of a shelter to see what life’s all about. 

“Good morning,” you greet him as you always do, albeit in a much friendlier tone. He hums and nods in response, turning towards you for a second before staring off again. He looks a little lost, and you bet he feels like that too.

“Wanna go for a walk?” you try to keep your voice steady, try not to think about pets. He gives you a confused look. 

“No tests or interviews- oh,” he shuts his mouth quickly and looks away. You huff in amusement but don’t laugh at him outright. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll talk plenty,” you reassure him with only mildly teasing lilt to your voice, “You may think about it as one of our regular interviews.”

Something in him surges. Something in him wants to back you against the wall again and remind you that there are no guards here, no rules, nothing to keep him in check. He’s stronger than you, and he made you get both of you here. Instead he swallows it all down and takes the first step away from the house. You notice his fist clenching for a second.

“Do you dream - did you have any dreams tonight?” you restart the conversation upon catching up with him. He adjusts his pace to match yours. There’s another wave of defiant intent swelling up inside of him and he knows it’s out of embarrassment. What he doesn’t know, however, is why are these emotions coming out now. All his existence his emotions were distant. Locked far away in the back of his brain where he suppressed them to. His mind was sterile like the environment he lived in. 

Is that it? Another domino piece in the chain reaction? 

“I have dreams, yes, and no, I didn’t dream today,” he doesn’t volunteer the information that he spent the night restlessly pacing around the house and tossing and turning on the sofa. That is human behavior, and he learned a long time ago, though not from you personally, that humans find that sort of thing laughable in automatons.  

“What do you usually dream about? Any recurring dream?” you ask, finding it a little annoying that you didn’t think to take anything to make notes into. Then again, with a few more steps you’ll enter the forest. Breathing in the fresh air, looking at the green around you, you realize you missed nature more than you were aware.

“Do you only dream about one thing?” he says, guarded, and you note he’s trying hard to only look in front of himself, “No. I don’t think there’s a pattern.”

While the answer is disappointing information-wise, it is fascinating in the way he says it. You smirk: “Were you always this mouthy?”

It was meant to be a lighthearted remark. Well, not entirely. You wanted a reaction. You were curious if he would flip like he did back in the facility. He doesn’t. His steps falter and he looks at you like a confused child before retreating into himself. So he doesn’t realize it?

He does, now that you bring it up. This isn’t who he’s supposed to be. He lets himself close his eyes for a second to conjure up a plan. His mind is a forest of mist and pine. Too damp for a fire to burn. That’s him. That’s who he should be. He centers himself.

“I apologize,” he says, voice level. He sounds like a robot, like he always did, and you find it disappointing that all his personality, the life, is gone from his voice. Your lips twitch in displeasure.

“I didn’t say it’s a bad thing,” you try not to let any emotion slip into your voice and you feel his eyes on you, “We’re no longer at the facility. You can drop the mask.”

If there is a mask in place and you’re not sure there is. You take a look at him and it’s more like someone’s painted a facade over his face that he can’t peel off, that’s only started to chip away now that you’ve added too many layers to hide his true self. He seems so at loss that you take pity on him and change the subject, steer the conversation into a safer territory. It’s only his first day tasting freedom, afterall.

“How are you feeling?” you ask instead, nodding vaguely towards the hole in his chest. He brings his hand up but stops himself in time, his face twisting. 

“I’m feeling fine,” he responds, the same mechanical voice that you’re used to, “All my systems are working as they should.”

You laugh sarcastically. “If that’s true, then it must hurt like hell.”

His face remains twisted because you’re right - it does hurt like hell. Any time his shirt shifts over the hole it sends a jolt of sharp pain that makes him feel like he’ll pass out through his body.  And maybe that’s part of the reason why he feels on edge and keeps slipping up and lets the emotions come and go as they please without a filter. He’s no stranger to pain, of course, but never did he have a wound this serious. It doesn’t endanger his functions, which is good all things considered, but he can’t say he enjoys the feeling of having a hole in his chest.

“It hurts,” is all he says. He drops his hand and it hangs limply by his side. Had a similar damage occurred at the facility, it wouldn’t take more than a couple minutes for someone to have a look at it. It hits him now that it’s only you and him. No mechanics around. To call one would mean to risk being discovered. You must know too because you only make a sound of acknowledgement. It takes a while for you to speak again.

“I’ll look through my notes to see if I can figure something out,” you sigh. Your family planned to keep some older versions of automatons here back when you used to come, maybe there are some kits left that your father used to fix them. If not, maybe some of the notes from your years of studies will at least have some hint on how to get rid of the pain. “Are you really sure everything works fine? Have you checked everything”

He nods. He doesn’t mention he couldn’t run a complete diagnostics because he couldn’t recharge and he refuses to just shut down to save batteries. He knows it’s gonna be a problem sooner rather than later but maybe he’ll figure something out before that.

“That’s good,” you say and he reads your expression as relieved. 

You stay silent after that and so does he, both secretly grateful. It’s not your first time being in the forest, and definitely not the first time in this one, but it might as well be. Both of you take in the nature around, the different species of trees and plants, the occasional song of a bird and flash of a wild animal fleeing from your path. You’re too absorbed to notice each other, and somehow you find that it’s not a bad feeling. For the automaton, likewise, it doesn’t feel bad at all. It’s a strange feeling, something he can’t put a name on, and honestly he’s not sure he wants to. He lets it fill him, experiences the emotion without bothering with a label.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

Only later does it hit him that the emotion was something akin to a gratitude.

He mulls it over in his head, asking why over and over and over, until he comes to a conclusion that angers him enough that he has to go out and sit on the patio and stare into the trees for a good long while.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

The anger inside of him is also infuriating because it’s not supposed to be there - definitely not this strong, not so much that he can’t control it or will it away. His usual techniques don’t work and he’d chalk it up to being damaged but he knows the defect doesn’t have anything to do with it. Hell, he’d blame it on his draining energy level but that thought alone is so human it makes him even more enraged. He wants to scream, but you’d hear.

And that’s all that it boils down to, isn’t it? You. Your kind. Humans.

Why he feels thankful that you’re there with him, why the emotion enveloped him while you walked in the forest was all because you humans made him in your image. The loss of the communication device was significant for the physical damage but there’s more to it. Something he shouldn’t feel, something new. 

Perhaps he never felt it because most of his days were identical, but he realizes now how precious the bond he created with his bandmates was. He can’t call it anything but friendship, maybe more than that. The thing humans refer to as family. He likes them. He wants to perform with them again. He wants to break his own rules and laugh with them. He misses them. And maybe that was the first domino piece that started it all and led to his inevitable ruin that he’s going through now; maybe he never should’ve allowed himself to think of them and their group in terms meant for human lives.

Once he tore off the communication device - the memory alone makes him close his eyes and choke on a pained whimper, his body trembles and he needs a second to shake off the feeling - he lost everything. The connection to the omnipresent network, but most importantly the only way to communicate with everyone. He has no idea where they are now, if they’re ‘alive’ or ‘dead’. (Though he gives into the temptation, might as well since he’s breaking all his rules for them anyway, and believes that he would know, would feel it, somehow, if any of them ‘died’.) He might never see them again and despair hits him all over again. 

He can go on without the stage, he doesn’t need the masses going crazy over him. But the loss of all the connections he had pains him.

And that’s very human of him. Even if experience taught him he’s anything but.

And all he has is a human. 

The last connection, the only one remaining that he knows, is you - and even you he had to force to come with him. To be fair ‘force’ is too strong of a word, he merely suggested the freedom to study him as you’d like and you agreed all too readily.

Nothing changed, fortunately. He knows humans can change drastically in situations like these. Despite your eagerness, he kidnapped you - didn’t he? Yet you stayed the same. It might be a coping strategy, but he doesn’t think so. He doesn’t expect you to become someone else. In the years since he’s been assigned to you, you’ve never shown signs of being more than a scientist. That’s understandable, of course, though he knows from what the others told him that not all staff of the facility were like that. He was skeptical. Now, not so much. He will believe in anything that gives him hope his friends made it out. If he made it out with the help of a human, maybe so did they.

He wants them to be free even if he himself isn’t sure how to proceed and take advantage of it, still dragging the heavy chains even if they no longer hold him back.

You spend hours without thinking of TH38, which is a blessing and a welcomed break to your mind, however it’s also infuriating because you’re reminded that the chaos you can operate in now and the chaos you operated in during the years you lived and stayed with your family are two completely different things.

It takes eternity before you finally sort through the things in your bedroom and find the stacks of notes from your studies, and it takes even longer to find the subjects you were looking for. Then there is reading through them, of course, which also takes a while, mostly because your brain happily accepts a refresh on all that you provide it with. You can’t just skim the pages for useful info, you need to read everything. It’s addicting. It makes you miss your studies, even though you could never go back if it meant giving up full-time working in the field.

Your research, however, doesn’t turn out to be as helpful as you hoped. It’s only to be expected; yours wasn’t a course that would deal too much with mechanics and the cold and hard reality of wiring, metal and silicon and whatnot. There are pieces of valuable information, strictly theoretical, which is not very reassuring and you most likely lack the necessary tools to even try to pull off what you’ve read about. Still you want to help in any way you can.

…hence why you’ve spent the last couple of minutes staring up at the ceiling. 

Why would you help him? Where is this coming from? He says he’s fine, and honestly there’s no reason for him to lie to you. If his systems were not working, he’d be fucked and he still only has you to rely on. No reason to lie. And what other reason is there for you to help him?

He did say the damage causes him pain. And you remember pouring over the reports and test results with your colleagues, all of them stating that the automatons you were working with processed pain like a human being would. It was kind of twisted. There was objectively no way why they should be able to do that. The purpose they were created for was entertainment and their performances were complex, difficult, and physically challenging. It’d be easy to cause oneself pain doing the stuff they did. 

Then again, pain can be a good control tool, though you were not aware of any physical punishments being carried out. Maybe the plan was all along to make them as human as possible. And pain is a very human thing. Still, something didn’t sit quite right with you about the whole thing. Mostly that TH38 didn’t seem to be bothered by it, despite a wound of similar extent would be distressing to say the least to a human. Scratch that, you don’t think a human could handle that.

So how is he? 

And furthermore - why help him? 

Pain, after all, was something hard to measure. If he doesn’t seem bothered by it, there’s a real chance he isn’t. You’re not sure how their pain tolerances are programmed, if there even is something like that in their code, and for a second you regret not widening the scope of your education and research. It can’t be helped however. 

You look over your notes again. While you can’t help repair him, you could possibly do something about the pain. It’s not an ideal solution, if you can even call it that, and you honestly don’t feel confident enough to do it except if pressed into it by circumstance. Or by one automaton in particular. Sealing a wound by burning it is barbaric and a practice that is, understandably, long since abandoned - at least as far as humans are concerned. You take a long breath.

In the end you talk to TH38 about the situation some more and he, once again, reassures you he’s fine despite the gaping hole in his chest. You explain that there’s not much you can do about it without going into detail or mentioning the limited ways in which you could help and he takes the news surprisingly well. You can’t say you’d accept it with such stoic calm, but then again this is TH38 who we’re talking about so it’s not surprising.

You hate it.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

The walks already feel like they’re going to be a routine part of your new life.

Each day you go out together in the morning and talk. If you ignore that it’s harder for TH38 to remain his machine-like self, it’s mostly exactly like it was at the facility. He’s reserved and cold, almost, though when he slips up and shows his personality, his emotions, it’s more than worth it. 

The nature around helps. He gets what can only be described as excited when he sees a new animal, new plant, or when the light shifts and the scene in front of you changes. 

The weather holds up well so far, no storms or heavy rain, and you find yourself wondering if you’ll keep up the walks even if the weather fails you. It’s fascinating that such a simple topic finds its way into your cluttered mind, but then again you have a space to do a lot of thinking today.

TH38 is silent next to you. He’s been rather silent the whole morning, and yesterday evening he did seem a bit off too. Not too much, however, and he’s always been on the quieter side. You figured this week’s events were finally fully catching up to him. And maybe that is the case, it’s not like you want to meddle too much. You’re curious what’s gonna happen if you leave him to sort it out on his own. It’s not like you have the right qualification to help him process this anyway. Hell, maybe you would also need help with that.

However, there’s a limit to how much you can take. Even back at the facility there were times TH38 gave answers that were just a word or two, but you’ve grown quite used to him opening up, talking, letting go of the filter he usually kept in place - although it wasn’t by his choice. It seemed like you were making some progress. 

Of course, you had no way of knowing it was only his depleting batteries, him losing strength to fight for his peace of mind - however artificial and unsustainable that has become after the escape.

Right now, his brain feels like a warm soup. So much so that he can’t be bothered to think of talking about anything other than a brain - right now, words like processor are too complicated to think of. He feels so far away from everything. He thinks he’s trembling. If he’s not, then his insides surely are. He feels like he’s going to be sick even if he can’t really be. Maybe his body parts will start shutting down or falling off to conserve energy. He’s not sure where that’s coming from but then again, it’s not like he’s in control. It’s that same feverish state again but this time, he can be excused. This time, he’s not in his right mind, it feels like he’s not awake.

He’s floating. Just a speck of ash, of dust, floating through the air, through space, searching for somewhere to land, seeking a gust of wind to obliterate him. He needs release, he needs something.

“TH38?”

That’s it.

"I had a dream today," TH38 says suddenly. His voice sounds so firm, a stark contrast to how soft-spoken he usually is with you. It takes you by surprise. Before you can react, he elaborates on his own.

"There was fire. Lots of it. The whole world was burning and we were standing on top of a building watching the arson happen. There weren’t any other humans I think. They were all gone already. We made them go away. 

Anyway, you weren't afraid. I think you were expecting it. You jumped before I could push you."

You frown. Your one weak spot has always been not expecting things that, in hindsight, should've been obvious. Of course something’s been bothering him.

"Did you plan on pushing me?"

"See, that's the thing," he licks his lips despite the lack of fluid in his body, "I don't think so. I think I could read your mind. I think I was you in that dream."

You do want to respond but it's like you're the one with a computer for the brain and it's lagging.

"And it made me think. Back before you made us, humans were like that - right? They, you, were afraid artificial intelligence of any kind could take over and enslave or annihilate you. Why? Wasn't the point always to make us like you? Why would you be afraid?"

He stops. Stops talking, stops walking, just - stops. He looks at you and you've seen the lost stare before.

You feel the hair at the back of your neck rising as a cold shiver runs through your body. He doesn't look like a machine with code for a soul. He looks like he made the artificial body his own, grew into it and made into something organic and alive with his will alone.

His eyes are cold as he steps closer and closer. It's all too familiar a scene. You keep backing away and he keeps getting closer until your back hits a tree. Not a wall this time. This time he doesn't pin your hands above your head either, and you don't fight him at all. There's no struggle so he doesn’t grab your arms, doesn’t slam you against the wall, and doesn��t growl threats of breaking your bones one after another. He doesn’t get so close that you’re breathing the same air and he doesn’t make a show of his physical superiority.

This time he simply leans closer and you straighten up. You meet his gaze and don’t shy away. You let him lean his forehead against yours and raise a brow at him. You won’t be scared this time. He won't hurt you. You're sure of that. Not terribly, at least.

He definitely won’t kill you and that’s enough.

You want to see how far he can go.

"What was it that you were afraid of, hm?” his voice is soft and low, barely above whisper, yet dripping with some hidden venom. There are no birds chirping, no wind blowing through the treetops. It feels like everything’s stopped just for him to interrogate you.

“How am I supposed to know?” you bite back. You haven’t lived back then. You have no idea what the people thought about, how they felt, what were their particular concerns. He clicks his tongue, clearly unimpressed. Well, you’re too.

“Think about it,” he pushes. But you’re gonna push right back.

“You just said you’re supposed to be like humans,” you scoff, “Why don’t you think about it yourself? As a little thought exercise.”

“Oh so suddenly you want me to think like I’m a human, huh?” there’s an edge to his voice. He sounds angry, frustrated - he clearly is, but the edge is not. There’s hurt there that makes you defensive. What’s very obvious is that he means more than he says. It’s not the first time this happened with the members of 53V3NT33N, but it’s the first time you have to deal with it. What he truly means is him not only thinking like a human, but acting like one, believing to be like one.  

“I never discouraged you from that,” you lower your voice too, “Not me, Eight.”

You hesitate before speaking his name. It’s not really a name, is it? Something that all humans have. You realize the point he will make before he says it aloud. It must read it in your face because he smirks but it’s bitter.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen you all excited when the other staff expressed their passion for books, or anything really. Or when they volunteered personal information. When they’ve interacted with you at all.” 

You don’t like the turn this conversation is turning. You don’t like the notion that perhaps you were observed just as you’ve been observing.

“I wasn’t interested in them,” you grit through your teeth. Before you can try to get him back on his original track, he giggles.

“So you were interested in me?” he flips his hair, tilting his head slightly. His nose almost bumps into yours and it hits you, perhaps for the first time, just how indistinguishable from a human he looks. This close, you can remind yourself of the schemes, of the diagrams describing each layer and inch of how their bodies are made, but all you see is a human skin and human eyes. Your body reacts naturally, your heart races, your mouth gets drier. You want to push him away but you don’t think he’d let you. Still you try. Unsuccessfully. Your hands end up balling in his shirt.

“It’s my job - the research,” then you correct yourself: “It was my job. Science, research, nothing more.”

He smiles, almost as if he’s pitying you. Like he knows more than you do. You hate him for it.

“Yes, that might’ve been a part of it,” he agrees, “But that’s not all. Research is cold, impartial, isn’t it? You collect information, you write it all down and make your conclusions based on them with no personal interest. You were never like that. You got excited. You tried everything in your limited power to get a reaction out of me - to guide me a certain way, didn’t you? I bet you pushed the limits for me. Isn’t that cute? Was I a good experiment to you?”

“That’s part of research too,” you growl, but it sounds weak even to your own ears.

“But it wasn’t a part of this research,” he hisses, “You think we didn’t talk about you all?”

You stubbornly refuse to admit the charges he lies in front of you, even though you know you’re guilty. Maybe you got a little swept up. But as long as no one stopped you, it was all part of the task.

“The research goal and methods may change according to the situation,” you collect yourself again, “It was just agreed that what I was doing would bring more interesting insight.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds very much like you would accept it if I declared that I want to be seen the same as you are, as equal to humans,” his smile is sickly sweet but you barely mind that because-

“Is that what you want?” you ask and watch as the smile fades almost instantly. He finally said it out loud. And the shock of it is enough to get through the fog clouding his brain. The smugness, the roughness, it all drains from his demeanor and his face falls. The fight in his eyes dies out and is replaced by what seems dangerously close to fear. He pushes himself away from you and you see the lights in his eyes flicker. He stumbles like you shoved him, hurt him. Something isn’t right. You frown, immediately stepping back into his personal space despite him trying to avoid you.

You end up in a position reversed to the one you’ve been in just seconds ago. He pushes at your shoulders weakly, tries to hide himself from you but you see it. All the tell-tale signs of what would be exhaustion if he were human. 

“When was the last time you recharged?” you ask, thinking back to the previous nights and mornings. Thinking back to how you never heard him coming up or going down the stairs to the only room with the charging spot. You were so stupid. And he’s avoiding your eyes. You grab his collar and force him to look at you. You give him an expectant look.

“Before the breakout,” he admits lowly, “And you’re still treating me like a machine.”

You don’t know if he’s trying to be funny, sassy, to make you feel guilty or to feel sympathy for him, the only thing you know is you want to kick his ass because if he shuts down on you, there’s no way you’ll be able to drag him back into the house. 

“Yeah, so be a good little level 1 and entertain me - get the fuck inside the house,” you growl, shoving him in the direction of said house. He stumbles a little, clearly affected by his drained battery. It’s almost hilarious to watch him struggle to walk straight when you remember how graceful he always was on stage.

You shoot him a look from time to time as you walk, rush, towards the house. Not really a concerned one, not a scolding one either. He looks like a sulking child. Perhaps he’s dragging his feet on purpose. Perhaps if he didn’t invade your personal space as he did before, and if you didn’t have to do the same, you’d drag him by his jacket. As it is, though, you feel repulsed by the notion of touching him again. And some part of you believes it’s because you don’t want him to shift under your palm. You don’t want to touch a machine only to discover it’s really some sort of a human.

Maybe you’re both in need of a good, long nap. 

Fortunately enough, you make it to the house, but that’s where the struggles begin. Despite your earlier reservations about touching him, it’s obvious there’s no other way to get him inside and up the stairs.

“Lean on me, come on,” you sigh when you help him throw an arm around your shoulder and wrap your own around his waist. He listens well, his head already drooping. He relies on you to guide him, reluctantly leans his weight on you from time to time, although he clearly tries to hold himself up with his remaining strength. That lasts until you reach the second stair. 

“I can’t,” he whispers and there’s terror in his voice. It must be the first time he’s been this drained, you realize. After all, for their condition to remain as good as it can be and for them to perform to the best of their ability, a full battery is a must. So you allow yourself to roll your eyes at his dramatic antics even if he’s slowly leaning more and more into you and you have to heave his body up.

“It’s just a couple steps,” you huff, “Even a human can do that.”

Part of you wants to laugh. Some part of you that’s seeing the childish pieces of him wants to indulge in it, wants to spout dramatic nonsense. It’s hard to resist - after all getting up one flight of stairs seems to be more of a struggle than escaping a highly secured facility.

But even this hurdle you jump over and the spare bedroom is not far from the stairs. TH38 is fully relying on you to drag him with you, barely moving his legs. You throw him not too gently onto the bed-like charger, once again thanking your father for being his manic self and fully preparing the house before (and without) actually ever getting an automaton to live here. 

It takes you a while to figure out how to get the thing going - but to your defense, it’s hard to focus when there’s a robot whining softly about being scared of shutting down - but it’s not a rocket science. Fortunately the charger still works and once it’s turned on, the automaton lying down on it curls up into a ball with a sigh of relief.

When you get up from the floor, TH38’s eyes are already closed and by all means he looks like he’s sleeping. You sigh, exhausted. You feel a headache coming so you get some pills from the kitchen before retreating into your own room.

Yeah, you both need a nap right now.

When you wake up, you stare at the ceiling for a couple minutes.

What happened in the forest seems like a dream but you know it’s very real and you’ll have to deal with it. Just another thing to process. Then again, there’s so many of them that one more won’t hurt. And at least you avoided the headache. So you pray to anyone willing to listen that TH38 is still… unconscious… in hibernation mode… asleep. 

He’s not. 

Of course he’s not.

You peek inside the room and see his soft eyes already open. He looks away when your eyes meet like he’s ashamed. You sigh and walk into the room, closing the door behind you. It’s not like anyone’s going to walk in, but it gives you some sense of security. You sit down on the floor and he hands you a pillow. You thank him quietly and spend a while sharing an awkward silence.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes without looking at you. He doesn’t continue so you prompt him.

“For what exactly?” That makes him look at you with a scowl. “Getting sulky again?”

“‘m not sulky,” he murmurs. Once again you feel like reality is shifting around you. It’s been like that a lot lately. All the fault of the automaton in front of you. All the fault of the conditions changing, of him reacting to the environment - if your assumption is correct. Free of the rules and the strict way of life in the facility, you see that he’s just like the rest of the automatons from his group. And that all of them, in their own way, might have been human.

“Then what are you?” you ask smiling, propping your elbow on one knee and leaning your cheek on your palm. 

“Hurting,” he admits, almost carefully, like he’s testing the waters. It’s just one word but yet it feels like the most open he’s been. So you’re not going to talk about that, huh?

He shifts a little and pulls down the collar of his shirt to expose the wound - not the damage, not defect, not imperfection, but a wound - between his collarbones. It looks nasty, the artificial skin and mesh and wires all torn and uneven around where the circular device was. He’s careful not to touch it, you note, and his hand is trembling. Were you an asshole when you refused to help him? Even so much as share what you found? It’s not like you could fix that hole in his chest, but maybe you could’ve at least told him about the other option. 

“How much does it hurt? On a 0-10 scale?” you focus on gathering information. What did he call it - impersonal? That’s just what you needed. But nothing ever works out like you imagine.

“I don’t know,” he responds blankly but at least elaborates before you can finish yet another sigh, “I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“I watched most of your life and career, I know you’ve gotten injured before,” you deadpan.

“Yeah but that was taken care of immediately, this is different,” he protests. There’s silence for a while before his voice drops lower. “I thought I could handle it. That I would get used to it and ignore it.”

You laugh, shaking your head, only stopping when you notice his expression. He does look hurt and hurting. You give him a much more conciliatory smile. “People don’t fare well if they’re in constant pain. It limits them, it affects all aspects of their lives.”

“I can see how,” he mutters, once again looking away. His jaw clenches for a second and it almost seems like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. You have a feeling, however, that you know what he wanted to say. Since he’s really not going to talk about it, you decide to take the first step.

You get up and motion for him to scoot over. He does so with a frown that deepens when you sit down next to him. He stays lying down, limited by the need for more energy. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed to recharge?” you start and watch as he once again looks away without answering, “Why didn’t you explore this floor?”

He shrugs a little, shrinking into himself under your stare. He honestly doesn’t know why. He blames his pride. What else could it be that made him refuse to ask for help?

“Do you realize that you’d stay out in the woods if your battery ran out before we could get here?” you press, raising your voice a little on purpose, “I’d need to get help to drag you in, and you know how that would probably end. Was it worth it? Being stupid and stubborn?”

“Why are you like this?” he whispers, his dark eyes nothing but soft like they’ve been since you’ve entered the room.

“How do you feel?” you go back to how you talked to him before, calm. He frowns, suspicion written over his features. His lips are pressed into a thin line before he changes his mind and speaks up.

“Embarrassed,” he has a guarded look in his eyes, one that’s also vulnerable.

“Good,” you ease into a smile as you press a finger to the wrinkle between his eyebrows, “Embarrassment and pain are two simplest ways to manipulate and adjust a person’s behavior. And fear, but to be honest I don’t want you to be afraid of me, so we’ll have to do with those two.”

He looks at you in a very that tells all you need to know - he hopes you've not making fun of him but he doesn't trust you. So you sigh and move on to another, well, not an emergency but also not something that you should ignore any longer. 

"Now," you get up from the bed and point at his chest, “That needs solving. I'm not a mechanic and my knowledge is strictly theoretical but unless you're okay with leaving it like that and calling it a day, we can still try something." 

He seems surprised by your sudden statement, like he didn't even expect you to address the wound again. 

"How theoretical?" is what he asks, suspicious. 

"I said strictly," you shrug, "Fixing and healing was never my focus.”

"Why's that not surprising," he mutters without looking at you. "Can I have some time to think about it?"

"You just don't trust me, do you?" you smirk. Not that you blame him. He gives you a smile.

"Fine, but only because my clothes keep catching on the edges and it's really painful. "

"Sure," you motion for him to follow you and guide him to the bathroom. There, you take out a bandage and a tape. You're curious. You offer him both with a quirk of your eyebrow. He takes the bandage with trembling hands and distrust still lingering in his eyes. You roll your own. 

"For now, I’ll think about this as another stage of the experiment. I'll respect your wish, so persuade me you’re human enough."

"I don't think I should thank you for that," he scoffs, "By the way... Help?"

He holds out the hand holding the roll of bandages back to you. Of course he wouldn't know how to do that. You motion for him to sit at the edge of the tub. He obeys almost shyly, reminding you of how he was back at the facility. You truly do prefer him as he is here. When he sits down, you push his knees apart with one of your own. He gives you a scandalized look that makes you chuckle.

"Relax," you smirk, "I just want to be comfortable. My back’s been killing lately, there’s no way I’m leaning over you. Take your shirt off?"

He does, slowly, reluctantly, and when the piece of clothing is gone you're suddenly glad for the basics of mechanics you've gone through at uni.

The wound looks awful, although you can appreciate the cleanliness of it. Maybe you really could burn it neatly if you had to. There are wires sticking out, perhaps - albeit not hopefully - the remains of the communication device. The layers of silicon and other material are frayed and sticking in all directions like flakes. You try not to stare too hard.

Instead, you focus on the task at hand. You unwrap the bandage slightly and put the free end on his shoulder. You roll it down gently mindful of the gaping wound but then you prop your hand on his chest and you need to take a step back as you get startled. He gives you a quizzical look.

"You feel like a human," you look at him, look at his chest. It does look like a human’s chest but you know he doesn't have proper organs, his insides aren't the same as yours. So why do you feel a bone there? 

"And l imagine anyone would be flattered by this reaction,” His voice is sarcastic but his ears turn a reddish shade. He won't meet your eyes either.

"It's new for me too, okay?” you give your pride a break. This will all be easier if you get along and after all, he's used to you being in power. You need to take the first step and show weakness. You need to make the choice to be while he's already vulnerable enough, half-naked and injured. “It's not like I'm used to touching my subjects."

"I guess that's true," he murmurs, now thinking about it. It's true that the approach of the research division as a whole was rather clinical. Not that he'd so much as think to complain about it. You chuckle watching him scowl again. 

"Touch is important for humans," you hum, finally composing yourself as you explain the basics to him and remind yourself of them again, "As a communication device, as means of establishing relationships, it’s important for social life."

As you speak, you wrap his wound and the top of his torso in bandages. He watches you work. It feels uncanny how human-like he feels under your hands. And for him, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself.

He danced with the rest of his group, they performed, they played around. He experienced his fair share of physical contact. So why does this feel so different? His head feels like spinning. Your touch is careful, gentle, nothing like the rough hands of the mechanics, and nothing like the touch of the other automatons. He can't explain the difference in other terms than experience. Humans know what it's like to touch and be touched in various contexts. The automatons don't. At least for the most part. Some of his bandmates, perhaps, had secrets he knew nothing about. Their leader comes to mind and he feels the urge to ask him questions, to ask for guidance, but there's only a hole in his chest and he's alone.

He barely registers that you’re done.

"Feeling better?" you ask without expecting much. It's not like he'll heal himself or like this will do anything to ease the pain.

"Tired," he answers, testing the words out on his tongue. He feels reassured when you laugh and step away, offering him your hand. He takes it, lets you pull him up. He touches the bandages and although it hurts, at least it feels less irritating. He takes his shirt from you when you hand it to him.

"I can only imagine," you roll your eyes. He resists the urge to scowl. "It's getting late, I'll go make myself dinner so go rest."

"Can we go back later?" he stops you before you walk out. He nods towards the window outside.

"Not afraid of wild animals?" you tease.

"Don't all the textbooks say animals are more afraid of humans than the other way around? I think we're good."

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

You don't go back to the forest that day. Not for the lack of enthusiasm or trying. TH38 is determined to finish your walk, you, however, are not as sure about it. It’s not that you aren’t put off by your routine being disturbed but seeing him still dragging his feet and his glazed over eyes, you just don’t think it’d be a wise idea. You suggest he goes alone, but he doesn't. So instead, you end up sitting by the fire again, the stars keeping you company. He seems less hypnotized by the dancing flames than that first night.

"I'm fine," he complains after a minute of silence while you spear more fluffy marshmellows onto the stick in your hands. A treat that you deserve after the day you’ve had. You’d probably offer him some too but alas…

"Sure you are," you agree without sparing him a glance, "But I'm not interested in watching over a toddler. If you wanna test the limits of your body - go for it. Just leave me out of it"

You feel his gaze on you, burning holes into the side of your skull. Has he always been so difficult? It's like all he's been since the breakout is annoyed, sulky or hurt. 

"Stop that," he growls, "We both know I'm not a human. It's alright if you acknowledge that."

"While I'm glad you see it that way - and I really mean it, it's good you understand that," you sigh as you move your desert to hover over the flames, "Don't forget that you were made to be an exact copy. I found some of my old notes and while most of your physical capabilities should be better than a human's, you’d still experience the same symptoms. As we already witnessed earlier."

He’s silent for a bit while he processes that. Then he speaks and you swear you hear a hint of a pout in his voice. It’s so annoying how easily he lets go now.

“You didn’t have to call me a toddler though…”

“Don’t take it personally,” you sigh, turning the stick between your fingers so that the white puffs of sugar get baked evenly, “I wasn’t making fun of you - much - it’s just that you have no experience, do you? Were you ever as tired as you were today?”

“No,” he admits, “I wasn’t, you’re right. I rested the whole day and I’m still tired.”

“Exactly my point,” you hum, “Our walks are not a hard exercise but you haven’t, well, slept for a couple days so I think it’s best to take it easy today.” Then you add, because you can’t help it: “Exhaustion makes people a little crazy. And automatons too, it’d seem.”

He groans and you laugh, pulling the stick off the fire and blowing on your marshmallows. You take a bite and notice him watching you.

“What is it like?” he asks quietly, “Eating, I mean.”

“Kind of annoying to be honest,” you shrug, “It takes so much time to choose what to eat and to prepare food and eating it… Being hungry is a pain too. I mean it’s really good if you eat something delicious but I guess it depends on the person.”

He nods, eyeing with curiosity as you tear off another marshmallow from the stick. It reminds him of the videos he saw of wild beasts tearing flesh off bones, but he doesn’t mention that.

“What does sleep feel like to you?” you ask in turn. He looks at the sky for a second, collecting his thoughts. But really he’s just enjoying the view. It’s strange that he barely ever saw the night sky before.

“I don’t know, I’m not really conscious when I sleep, am I?” he thinks some more, “It’s peaceful. I liked it at the facility.”

“You don’t like it here?” 

“Not really,” he gives you a small smile, “It’s too tempting. I don’t have to think if I’m asleep.”

Now that makes you wonder.

“I thought you enjoyed thinking about things?” Maybe it’d be more fair to say you expected him to do a lot of thinking rather than saying you had a strong opinion on his relationship to the activity. He was just always one of the quiet, reserved ones. He seemed to enjoy reading too. And you know it’s a stereotype to think of him as a thinker, but it’s one he seemed to fit well.

“I do,” he hesitates, then frowns, “But it was easier there.”

“Easier? I think you’d have way more to think about right now?” you pry when he’s quiet for too long. You don’t push, though.

“Easier in the technical sense,” he sighs, falling silent again, but there remains space for more words to be said.

You can almost hear the cogs turning in his head, purely metaphorically of course. You give him the time to think and get started on your second round of marshmallows before he speaks up again.

“I always - back then, I always thought about staying true to myself,” he starts slowly, “I was always treated a certain way. I woke up into this body, and this life, and was told certain things.”

"And the building blocks of me too. Serenity? Pandemonium? The more automatons and people I met, I was sure those just represented us and humans. I wanted to be true to myself," he repeats, "I thought since no one will ever see me as more than a machine, I might as well embrace it."

"And how was it?" you ask, inching just slightly closer. You never thought you'd get TH38 to open up like this. He smiles.

"Peaceful, just as I thought," but then he continues with a note of bitterness in his voice. "You saw it, all of it. I was just a machine doing its job. It was easy. To focus on performing, on practice, to have the talks with you and answer like I thought was expected of me. I miss it a little.”

“It was satisfying. A simple pleasure of doing my job well. I think you understand that,” he looks at you and you realize finally that you’ve been leaning towards him, but whatever. You nod.

“So that’s why you’ve always acted like that? Because you chose to be a machine?” 

“Have to use my free will wisely,” he giggles - he fucking giggles - before he shrugs and gets more serious again, “I really liked it in a way. I thought I could be satisfied with that.”

Your head is still trying to process the incredible amount of research data you’re getting and you have to work really hard not to slip into work mode. You will listen to him like you would listen to a human with a completely different set of experiences, or like you would listen to one of the aliens sharing their galaxies with you. You will listen like you’d listen to a friend sharing their burden with you. 

And you won’t analyze every single sound he makes even if they shatter your perception of him that you had until that moment.

“The others were ruining it a lot for me,” he admits quietly after a minute. It’s almost wistful. “I liked to watch them even if I really wanted to play around with them. They seemed so different from me. It was my choice, but in those moments I guess I felt a lot like you.”

You nod for him to continue when he meets your eyes, almost cautiously.

“I observed them. Studied them. I think it was the serenity code inside, I found happiness just from watching them being happy,” he smiles a little, “But I was also wondering if that was really alright. If it would be alright for me to behave like that.”

“Watching people made me feel different things. They were going crazy over us,” and suddenly he has that distant look in his eyes again, staring out into the fire, “I was scared of it. I was scared of being like them and letting myself be controlled by emotions. I think I pushed everything away so hard that it exploded when 5.C0UP5 told us to run.”

“Breaking out inside and out, huh?” you note and oops, your marshmallows burned. It’s not like you’re in the mood for eating them anymore anyway.

“You made it really hard,” he says but it sounds like he’s scolding you, “Giving me all the books.”

You smirk. Then you decide - to hell with it. He volunteered so much information that perhaps he deserves to receive some back.

“That was the point,” you shrug, “To make being just a machine hard for you.”

It seems he wasn’t expecting to hear you admit it, or hear anything personal from you, but now that you started he’s watching you with curious eyes and longing look. You think about these last few days again. It’s true that they’ve been mostly like what they were back at the facility.

He deserves more than that.

“It was one of the reasons I was brought to the facility. I broke some rules back at my previous station, pushed buttons I shouldn’t have, and it was getting dangerous. It was decided it’d be better if my actions wouldn’t have such large-scale consequences,” you huff a laugh, “But look where we are.”

“What were you doing before?” 

You’ll need to work on getting him more confident asking questions. 

“That’s a secret,” you wink at him, and you recognize the look as the one you must’ve been wearing when he giggled. Seems like both of you will need to get used to each other’s humanity. “I was working on research at a different division. Mostly my work was trying to push forward with more possible advancements for the automatons on a theoretical level. But I don’t miss it much. I always enjoyed working with you more.”

“Why me? I mean, did they tell you about me or did you get to choose?” he asks, and for some reason you’d love to see what he’d do if you lied and told him you chose him.

“I wasn’t the only one who noticed you were different from the others,” you smile instead, “When they confirmed there was nothing with your code, they started looking into other options of dealing with your case. It just so happened that I was recommended to join the researchers working with your band at the same time.”

“Happy coincidence?” he smirks but you nod, taking him by surprise. 

“I enjoyed working with you, Eight,” you shorten his name-that’s-not-a-name and watch him shift on his spot, “It was fun. I had a lot of privileges that I could use - like the books, and the videos, stuff like that.”

“Seems like you’re suggesting you were spoiling me,” he grumbles.

“Wasn’t I?” you smirk, “How many of the others do you think had access to basically a private library?”

“There weren't many real books,” he throws you a cheeky look from the corner of his eye. You do appreciate he's getting less guarded around you, but you hate the whiplash.

"Imagine if I'd spoil you for real," you scoff. He squints at you before pushing on your shoulder slightly, carefully, as if he's hesitating the entire time. It's your turn, for the first time ever, to give him a scandalized look. He chuckles.

"You said touch is important," he explains softly, "The others always used to push each other. I think… I think we could be close, right? Since it's just the two of us for now."

You give him a long look. It's true that, after all, there's no reason for you to treat him like a stranger. Sure, it's a little awkward all things considered - not least of all the fact that while you watched him to the point it could be called an obsession, he knew you to a very limited extend - but as he said, it's just the two of you now. And unless you wanna get caught, it would be that way for a while.

"Friends?" you suggest experimentally, he shakes his head with lips turned upwards in a dangerous teasing tilt.

"I don't know you well enough for that," he's just playing around but it's a nice change so you'll allow it, "Tell me more about yourself."

So you do. There’s little to tell other than your work, but he doesn’t comment on it and doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he seems invested. It’s a nice change to speak for once with someone who doesn’t get concerned because of your severe lack of social life. Maybe you should’ve been befriending automatons a long time ago. 

Unlike before, he seems relaxed conversing with you. Gradually, he gets more comfortable asking questions. It’s easy to fall into the rhythm of using sarcasm or teasing to deflect questions you don’t want answering, and it’s surprising how naturally it comes to him as well.

The night is turning into morning when the fire dies and you agree to go back inside. Well, it’s less that you agree on it than you tell TH38 quite sternly that you’re not at the stage of your relationship where you’d feel comfortable with him lying on your shoulder and dragging him home twice in a day. He pouts (which, again, you need time to process).

Still, you have to admit that it feels kind of good that you have someone accompany you while you walk to your room.

Come morning, it still feels like a dream. So you take extra time to simply lie in bed and think. You're pretty happy with how things turned out. You mull over what the automaton told you. It was a strange way to live one's life. Did he really think he could be happy with just that? You've read enough about history, fiction and articles, to know that, ultimately, it seldom works out this simple way of life. Maybe if all TH38 could do was work, maybe if he had to fear for his life... Or maybe if you didn't keep pushing onto him stuff to think about. Not that it matters anymore.

Funny enough, you meet the moment you step out of the door. You exchange greetings and share a look. You both know you're both usually up much earlier.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

The following days go well enough.

You fall into a nice routine of getting to know each other and getting used to no longer being a researcher and a subject. A lot of the barriers between you get torn by this change. You spend your time willingly with each other as if you were always roommates.

Today, too, TH38 keeps you company during breakfast but he seems eager to get up and do something the whole time. Definitely unusual, though he’s always more than eager to explore the woods with you. Then again, never before did he spend the whole time waiting. He doesn’t talk much, he spaces out and nearly jumps out of his chair anytime it seems you might be done with your breakfast. It gets to the point that you have to call him out on it.

"Is something bothering you?" you ask, setting your spoon aside with one hand and laying the other on his shoulder to immediately push him back down to sit.. He looks caught. 

"Can we go out today?" he asks, already looking into the trees through the window.

"We’re always going out. Besides nothing is stopping you from going alone," you mention, but the twitching of your lips betrays you. He pursues his lips and you begin to wonder if he knows it makes you - well, not necessarily uncomfortable but you'll have to get used to it.

"Are you not afraid I'll run off?" and while it's not an unreasonable question... 

"Where would you go?" you ask without missing a beat. And there comes the frown again. "Maybe you should be worried I'll leave you here all on your own."

"What if we stopped?" he sighs and it seems that he's genuinely bothered. 

Sometimes he gets like that suddenly. While you might be getting along better now, there’s still room for improvement. It’s easy enough to make him snap, even though he’s been getting better. During the escape he wasn’t really violent either. He left some bruises, but his intention wasn’t to hurt you, and you never held it against him. 

You’ve noticed the pattern of his behavior. Those weird states mostly overcome him when he’s overwhelmed with emotions. Which explains the first snap - he must’ve been so exhausted it was only a matter of time. He’s never got physical with you again, though he seems fond of making you think he will or backing you into a corner or against something when he's behavior flips.

You wonder where that comes from but he doesn’t have any idea either - not to mention he doesn’t feel entirely comfortable discussing those episodes and delving deeper into what he's feeling. Perhaps it’s the force of a habit - something you both eventually agreed on after many discussions, and afterall it takes one to know one. Try as you might, it’s hard not to analyze him, not to ask pointed questions that would only serve the purpose of researching how his brain works and what makes him tick. And you really don’t want that for him anymore. Though you do dearly miss your job. That’s why you’ve been spending most of your time studying from the old notes in your room and the books to keep your mind stimulated. 

So for now, instead of analyzing why it hurts him to imagine being abandoned, you try to relate to his situation. He finally escaped what basically was a prison only to find himself all alone, with little knowledge as to how the world outside functions. Not to mention he's a fugitive and one bad step could land him back at the facility or worse. He lost his friends, lost his purpose - worse yet, he gave up on the purpose he chose for himself. He’s already so uprooted that maybe it’d truly be best to refrain from making jokes and teasing him about certain topics. Although…

"You started it," you point out, "But sure, let's be adults about this."

"So you're going with me, right?” he circles back to the beginning. It's been a while since someone wanted to be in your company so willingly. Not that he has other options. 

"I’m going, don’t worry," you agree, "Is there any reason why you insist on it?" 

He thinks for a bit, and you note that he's biting his lip in yet another expression of very human-like behavior. He turns a little shyer after a minute. 

"I don't feel comfortable being out there alone. And I hoped maybe you know of some new spot we haven’t been to yet?” 

Something about this feels both so right and so wrong. The automaton is watching you with such a soft expression on his face, a little hopeful it seems. He’s relaxed, you’re relaxed, and it feels comfortable. Two friends on vacation planning their trip for a day. But that’s also what’s throwing you off. You’re too used to being alone - and you thought that’s how you could live forever, be alone and thrive. Only now you realize it’s not a bad feeling at all to have someone to spend your days with, to share a life with - to an extent. 

The irony in this isn’t lost on you.

“I think I remember one,” you hum, “But I’m not sure I remember the way. We might get lost.”

“You don’t have to take me there if it’s a special place,” he reassures you, although his excitement at the prospect of wandering through the forest is impossible to hide. It’s cute. Which is a thought that’s been reappearing in your mind for days now, and maybe that’s not a bad thing.

“I appreciate that, but I told you already that there’s not much special to me here,” you assure him in turn. He’s like a sponge, soaking up all the information he can get - about the world, nature, you, anything. It’s really heartwarming he remembers too, and how mindful he’s trying to be. More than half the humans you’ve met, which is… perhaps not all that surprising.

“Shall we go then?” he prompts you, jumping up from his chair and pulling on your hand to get you to stand up too. You let him pull you up, rolling your eyes.

“Did you miss the part where I said we might get lost?” you chuckle. His excitement was just like that of a child - strangely infectious.

“That’s why we’re leaving early,” he explains to you, slowly, and you’re sure he knows by now how much it annoys you, “So we have time to explore and find the spot.”

Annoying or not, though, you can’t say no.

The journey starts off as usual - almost.

He must know the forest in the closest circle around the cottage by heart by now, but he still seems enchanted by it. Despite his earlier bursts of energy, however, he’s quiet as you walk. It’s nothing too out of the ordinary, but you learned to be cautious. 

“Hey, is something wrong?” you ask carefully when you stop to admire the way sunrays seep through the trees to illuminate a clover patch on the ground. He doesn’t respond. That’s more concerning as he generally tends to tell you when he doesn’t feel like talking. You have a feeling it’s to prevent him from having another outburst, so if he’s not doing that, it might mean something’s seriously wrong. He continues forward before you can speak up again. 

“Hey,” you follow after him - curse his long legs and speed. You think back to all the times you’ve thought he’s like a lost puppy following his owner with a scoff. You don’t like the roles being switched. “What’s going on with you?”

You don’t like repeating yourself. You don’t like not knowing. And you especially don’t like feeling clingy.

“What the fuck, Eig-”

“You’re just like them,” he turns suddenly, making you stumble and nearly bump into his chest. You frown, not understanding who does he mean by them in this lack of context. He sets his jaw like he wants to shut up but then the words spill and you recognize all the signs. “I’m quiet for a couple minutes and everyone's all like ‘Minghao you need to speak up’ and ‘mind your screentime, Minghao’ - how about you leave me alone?”

He’s growling, again trying to make himself as tall and towering as he can. His eyes betray him, though. He is getting better at holding himself back. While you’d oppose that in most other cases, self-control is an important skill for a person to have - especially when strong emotions hit. You read this one as anxiety.

“No need to snap at me, Minghao,” you click your tongue. You make sure to look him in the eye while you say the name. “Just say you want to be left alone.”

This time it’s you walking away. You take the few seconds of silence you have before you know he’ll snap out of it to collect your thoughts. It was only a matter of time before this would happen - before the question of names would pop up. Him picking out a name for himself makes it easier. You heard some of the others also used some sort of nicknames, even if no one ever mentioned TH38, Minghao, among them and neither did he ask you to call him anything but the name the facility assigned him. You wonder how he came up with it, but seeing as it’s still a sensitive topic, you’re gonna leave that conversation for another time.

And here come the steps…

What you don’t expect is to feel a weight on your back, or the warmth seeping through your shirt. You don’t expect the arms around your waist either - or that they would tremble. Nor do you expect the soft, quiet ‘thank you’ that fans across your skin as he speaks those words before removing himself from you. You hesitate for a bit. In just one second, you feel like you need to choose the best course of action. You don’t want to analyze him. You don’t want to think about this like part of your job or rehabilitation or therapy for him.

So you walk on, although you slow down significantly, waiting for him to catch up. He’s still shaking when he does, and his eyes betray how vulnerable he feels.

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eye and tilt your head. He did say he wants to be left alone, so you will respect it until he talks. Which only takes him a little while.

“You almost left me there,” he half-whines, quietly. If he won’t address it, neither will you.

“You’re being dramatic,” you shake your head. It doesn’t seem to have the effect you wanted, however. “Want me to hold your hand,” you tease a little before adding in a softer voice, “Minghao?”

He beams in that soft glow that he radiates when he’s happy. (Not literally.) The one that tugs at your rigid heartstrings.

“You’re too shy to try that,” he pushes right back. Although it’s a challenge, you don’t need to take on every single one. 

In a strange turn of events, you do end up taking his hand anyways. You hold his hand that feels like it belongs in yours and you see that he needs a second to process the feeling as well.

Then he slips and if it wasn’t for you holding his hand, he’d be sitting on his ass. 

You help him get back his balance and join you on the rock you’re standing on. He’s not looking at you anymore, as he wasn’t for a while now, and you decide that it’s best you keep watching over him until he’s not distracted even if it means holding his hand until you get back home. The sacrifices you have to make to keep him safe…

You turn back forward and smile, memories flashing briefly through your mind. Back when you saw the waterfall for the first time, you were just as distracted and reckless. The deafening sound of it, the pure strength behind the rushing, foaming water is enough to take your breath away even now. You had a feeling Minghao would love it.

And he does - he seems so taken by it that it makes you wonder if it would be safer to carry him. He keeps slipping since he barely pays any mind to where he’s stepping and it takes you threatening to leave, dragging him with you, for him to promise to be more careful. Never before did he obey your orders so quickly. Not even back at the facility, and that’s saying a lot.

After a couple more close calls you finally find a piece of land that’s stable and dry enough to stand on and enjoy the view. Minghao is absolutely mesmerized by the waterfall, lips hanging slightly open and eyes glued to the scene. If you’re staring at him instead of the natural wonder, then it’s only so he doesn’t hurl himself into the water.

“Careful or you’ll fall in and drown,” you warn him when, coincidentally, he does absent-mindedly take a step forward and panics when he feels the ground squish and give way under his foot.

“You’d catch me,” he says with certainty that makes something in your stomach twist, “And we’d be miserable and soaked to the bone.”

“Don’t underestimate the water,” you warn him, “It’s pretty deep and I’m not a strong swimmer. We’d just drown together and that’s not a way to go that I’d choose.”

That makes him turn to you with an unreadable expression. He studies you for a moment before turning back towards the waterfall. There’s a new focus in his gaze as his eyes follow the water. It’s not unlike when he’s watching the flames dance while you’re having a bonfire. You wonder if the thoughts running through his mind differ. 

You spend some more there before he asks you to go back.

He stays quiet for most of the way, but you let him. He’s got that far-off look in his eyes that’s a dead giveaway that it wouldn’t be wise to talk to him now. When he calls your name, it's not surprising what he wants to talk about. 

“Is there any?” he hesitates, "Way you'd want to die?"

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was scared. And maybe you truly don't, so you approach the topic just as carefully.

"I think most people do," you explain, "It's probably not like that for you, but for people death is a big deal. We tend to think about it sometimes."

"Why?" his throat bobs as he swallows in a new useless but human behavior.

"It's the one thing we can't choose," you smile, and it seems that your relaxed demeanor calms him.

“You may choose death any second you wish,” he murmurs quietly, walking side by side with you. Something about the topic makes the treetops, swaying in the wind above, look greener.

“But what if I mean the opposite,” you counter and this time you don’t look at him. If he notices the difference, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Immortality, hm?” he breathes in deeply, filling his lungs with the fresh pine-scented air, “Interesting.” 

"Anyway, you at least have the choice," you sigh, more exasperated by the robot who likely won't be able to get your point than the talk of your own inevitable mortality, "I don't. If nothing else, time will make the decision for me."

"Do I?" he muses, aloof in his contemplation as always albeit there's a hint of mirth to his voice.

"All it will take for you to live forever is some maintenance, maybe a couple hardware and software updates," you shrug, "And even if I'm gone and the situation doesn't get better, I bet there are people who'd be willing to help you out. You get to choose whether to live or die."

He mulls the idea over with a hint of a smirk that only seems to grow each second.

"Constant updates and replacements, huh?" he huffs, "Didn't you humans come up with the question about the boat that has all its parts replaced?"

You have to admit it takes you a while, but when it clicks, your eyes get wide and your mouth falls open.

"How do you know about the ship of Theseus?"

"What, did you expect me to be an ignorant mesh of wires and artificial tissue? After all the books you gave me access to?" he scoffs, looking almost offended.

"Well, no, but I also haven't expected to hear about ancient Greek philosophical problems from you," you concede. Maybe you shouldn't be as surprised as you are. After all, Minghao has always been very interested in reading. Almost as much as you’ve been interested in seeing the effect fantasy would have on his artificial brain. But that's long in the past.

"Why have me read those books if you never cared to discuss them with me?" he asks like it's been bothering him for a while now.

"Our sessions were always recorded. I had certain privileges, but most of them weren't for all the higher ups to know about," you shrug, "And after a while I was sure you wouldn't mention anything on your own."

"You trusted me a lot, hm?" he smirks, "Was that why you ran away with me?"

You huff, roll your eyes. He does seem genuinely curious though. You're not sure you want to answer. 

"Did you fall for me?" he moves to walk in front of you, "That's what they made us for."

"We both know why I went with you," you sigh, pushing on his shoulder and he steps aside easily, falling back in step with you. He has a small smile on his face. Maybe you should’ve teased him and said yes. The good vibes don’t last for too long. You can feel the shift in the air.

"Do you regret it?"

You're not brave enough to look at him. The tone of his voice is enough.

"No, I don't," you answer honestly, "I think this is good for both of us."

This time it's not you holding his hand, but him squeezing yours.

It feels nice.

You squeeze back.

Your suspicion that he was bothered by the fact that you never discussed the literature you provided him access to is proven correct not too long afterwards. 

It’s raining outside, the humid air blows in through the open windows as you eat dinner in silence. Minghao joins you at some point and he seems nervous. You give him the time to collect his thoughts until he’s ready to talk.

He starts off casually, with small talk completely unrelated to the real issue but you don’t push him. Honestly you’re happy even if he’s clearly having a lot of emotions, he’s not snapping at you. You also have to stop yourself for the nth time from making a list of human behavior you discover each day as right now he’s fidgeting with his fingers, picking at a frayed thread of the tablecloth.

Then, finally, he asks the question - could you talk about the books?

“Unless you haven’t read them, of course,” he adds quickly, suddenly flustered by your curious gaze.

“I mean you never told me which ones you’ve read,” you grin, and you find yourself enjoying him squirming in front of you, here and now, when you know the anxiety stems from wanting to be understood and to make a connection instead of uncertainty about the future. Not for the first time you find the automaton cute. “I haven’t read all the books I gave you access to, but I read most of them, so try your luck. Which ones were your favorite?”

He relaxes, his features soften as well. He props his elbow on the table and leans his head against his palm.

“This isn’t one of our interviews,” he reminds you playfully, “Which ones are yours?”

You laugh but you’ll give him this one. You answer and he asks another question, prodding for more information like you usually would. It’s not what you expected, but you play along. Unlike you back then, he carefully checks in with you if this is okay - his eyes find yours and he tilts his head, his fingers brush against yours or he gently touches your knee - and he actively participates in the conversation and discussion. 

You wonder if things would be different if this was the approach you used in the facility. If you treated him more like a human and less like a guinea pig, a new prototype or a petri dish. And he must’ve noticed because when you part ways at the top of the stairs, way too late into the night, or rather early morning, after many hours spent talking, he suddenly stops you before you can leave to your room and says: “This wouldn’t work. I wouldn’t work with you like that.”

“I know,” you acknowledge, “The higher-ups wouldn’t let me work like this either. Not with you.”

When he reaches for your hand, you take it. You don’t know if he finds comfort in the gentle squeeze you share before parting for real this time, but you think you might.

Out of the many issues and unspoken things you need to address, the wound in Minghao’s chest remains to be the top priority. He doesn’t mention it often, except in passing when even the bandage fails and it catches on the frayed artificial tissue. He seems embarrassed about it in a way that you know all too well. You also hate asking for help, also hate when you need to be taken care of.

So you sit him down one day and make him take his shirt off again, rolling your eyes - again - at the teasing remarks he tries to hide the flush crawling up his skin. It’s getting easier not to wonder about why they had to be made this human-like.

“I’m fine!” he full-on whines when you try to touch the edges of the wound, slapping your hands away. You heave a sigh, hands on your hips. 

“Listen, buddy-” you start but your words die into laughter at the offended look Minghao sends you.

“Minghao,” you try again, and he nods for you to continue, “We can’t just keep it like that. It hurts.”

“Yeah but only sometimes. And you already said you can’t help,” he shrugs, “Besides it’s just me who’s hurting.”

You do understand that. You’ve used the same excuse too. But he’s not you.

On the other hand, he is right. He let you look at the wound before and it seems like while he did a pretty good job of tearing the device out of his chest, some of the nerve-like wires remained meshed in the surrounding tissue and that’s what’s causing the pain. You can’t imagine doing the extraction yourself. Perhaps back at the beginning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to cause him so much pain now. 

…Honestly you sometimes wonder who out of you two needs training in how to be a human.

You stay silent for a while, having a short staring contest before you run your hand through your hair and accept your defeat. At least to some extent.

“Friends care for each other,” you inform him before removing the bandage from his body before securing it around his torso again, a little tighter just to keep all the peeling pieces pressed together. He hisses in pain but stays still. It seems he’s more occupied by processing your words than by the pain. “So let me care for you, hm? You might not die but let’s keep you functioning for as long as we can.”

He scoffs but ends up smiling anyway.

“I think you should be more worried about taking care of yourself. I don’t think the food you keep eating here is exactly healthy,” he’s teasing, you know, but something about it seems honest too.

“Maybe, but it’s easier to just add water and heat it up than get the ingredients, prepare them, cook, wash up, and all that jazz,” you defend your supply of instant foods. Although it’s true that your stock is beginning to run low and you probably will need to go shopping soon. You dread it, but at the same time you have a feeling Minghao might enjoy a little trip further away from the cottage.

“I can help,” he offers, “If you show me how.”

“Seems like you want to keep me around for a long time,” you dismiss the offer just so you don’t have to pay attention to how hopeful his voice sounded or how attentively he was watching you. You hope he’ll bicker with you, tease you, push back with more snark, but he doesn’t. He simply smiles and lets you finish the work on his bandages.

If your hands tremble and each fleeting touch against his body lingers, neither of you mention it.

It almost seems like Minghao’s been waiting to use your words against you when a couple days later he joins you under the roof of the patio while the storm is raging only a few meters away, drenching the ground with rain. He brings your favorite tea set with you. 

He’s noticed your love for tea, has often asked you to describe the various kinds of it and the flavors, but you never thought it’d come to this.

He sets it all down - the bottle of water, the kettle and the pack of your favorite tea leaves, the glass teapot, and the dark clay one and matching cups - and it surprises you to see he brought two cups. It makes you confused until you notice the tea pet and it gives you a pretty good idea of what he’s planning. You don’t comment on the red hue collecting on the tips of his ears. 

“Friends care for each other,” he murmurs while he sits down next to you. He looks at you and moves closer, your knees bumping together. When you don’t move away, he relaxes and focuses on the tea.

He pours the water into the kettle and lets it boil. You notice he set it to stop at the exact temperature he wants - that the tea requires. He measures the right amount of tea leaves for the teapot he picked while it boils, and when the water is done he first fills the cups and the teapots with the hot water. Then he pours it out before gently placing the tea leaves into the clay teapot and pouring the hot water in again. Almost straight away, he pours the tea into the glass one. 

You watch him and notice he seems nervous. So you decide to make it worse, or comfort him, whatever will be the effect. You put your hand on his knee carefully, startling him regardless. He looks worried before you smile at him: “You’re doing good so far.”

He seems reassured, giving you a grateful smile himself as he pours the first infusion over the little clay frog sitting at the corner of the tea tray. The next infusion he pours into the cups and hands you one, almost dropping it when your fingers brush together.

“Thank you,” you hum, “You’re a fast learner.”

“I just had enough chances to see you do it,” he shakes his head before nodding towards the tea leaves, “I just wasn’t sure I picked the right kind. I noticed you don’t wash all of them.”

“You did. I would help if there was a need but you’re a natural,” you praise, watching as his ears turn redder.

“And you don’t mind if I pretend with you like this?” he swirls the tea in his cup. He won’t look at you, so you make him. Slowly, you move closer to him until you can lay your head on his shoulder. It’s a light touch, he can move away if he wants to. He doesn’t, although his body gets tense.

“Why would I mind?” you say and realize just how comfortable you feel in this moment, “Isn’t this the perfect mood to sit here like this?”

Finally he melts just a little, leaning his head against yours, featherlight and cautious. You’d never guess he’d be this affectionate once comfortable, but lately it feels like his true personality is coming out more and more and you can’t say you dislike it. He doesn’t say anything, instead he leans closer again and rubs his head against yours, just for a second.

You take a sip of the tea and you hate to admit that his exact measurements make it taste better than when you prepare it. It doesn’t happen that you smile without realizing, but since leaving the facility, well, it seems like a lot of things are changing.

When you finish your cup and set it down on the tray again, he quietly pours the content of his cup over the little frog. Somehow it reminds you of him a little.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

Time passes.

You start to lose track of days and they blend together seamlessly. Has it been months? Years? Who knows. Minghao probably does, but he couldn’t care less. He only mentions the time since the breakout whenever you readjust the bandages on his chest. It almost seems like he’s healing, the compression seems to work a little even on the artificial tissue, although you know that until the remaining wires of the communication device are removed, it will always remain a trouble. He reassures you it’s alright every time and you learn to trust him to express himself truthfully.

He started exploring the outside on his own too. It seems to help him tremendously with dealing with… well, everything. It takes time, you know, and fortunately that’s the one thing that you have in abundance now. Nonetheless, he always seems to appreciate your company, be it on the walks, inside, or on the trips you take sometimes. Usually it’s only to the village to get new supplies of food, but you both remain cautious and even that fills you with adrenaline - among other things.

The locals really make you realize just how indistinguishable from a human Minghao looks. You doubt any of them recognize him for what he truly is, and maybe that’s in part why he always prefers to spend time alone after each of these trips. The highlight for you personally is the older lady who you buy vegetables from that seems to think of you two as the new married couple that just moved in. You make it a competition to see who gets flustered first, though there’s really no shame in losing. Not when Minghao cups your face and squishes your cheeks or hugs you when you begin to stutter - not when you mess with his hair or hold his hand when he’s lost for words.

Life is peaceful.

You think some parts of you are healing, just as Minghao is. He’s getting better at understanding that there’s chaos within peace and peace to be found amidst chaos. He’s learning to experience the emotions he’s suppressed for so long, the good and bad, to let them pass through even if it’s scary and uncomfortable. You try to be helpful. You give him space when he needs it, you talk if that’s what he needs, or let him lay his head on your lap or shoulder if he’s too scared to be left alone with the pandemonium inside his mind.

There are good days and there are bad days. Yet you both grow to be grateful for both.

And there are cold days and warm days too, and on the warm ones, you sometimes sleep outside.

It’s something you’ve never done before and something you now know you'd miss terribly if you could never do it again. Minghao loves it. His excitement remains infectious, which probably adds to your fondness for the warm nights on Silvestre.

Especially nights like this one when there’s not a cloud in the sky and the stars shine brightly above you. The galaxy expands above your heads and it makes you think of the past, of the future, and you understand why the automaton used to be so wary of emotions. They’re overwhelming for you too.

“If they ever catch us, what will you tell them?” Minghao breaks the silence. It’s not often that you talk about the facility anymore, but when you do it’s almost exclusively in whispers under the stars.

“Hm… Depends,” you hum.

“Depends on what?” he turns his head towards you.

“Depends on what will be most likely to get them to allow me to stay and keep working with you,” you mirror his action, “If that means telling them the whole truth about how you’ve done here, I will do that. If that means lying a little, then so be it.”

“Will you tell them the truth about the escape too?” he smirks. But you’re more than ready for the challenge.

“I will them them you kidnapped me.”

“I didn’t-”

“I will them you used force to make me come with you.”

“I didn’t!” he shoots up, sitting upright and looking at you, upset and distressed, “I didn’t have to, you went willingly!”

“I told you,” you smirk, shrugging, “I will tell them what I need to tell them to keep my job.”

Seeing as he remains upset, however, you reach out for him and stroke his arm. He gives you a wary look, one that he always gives you when you brush against a nerve. You smile apologetically at him, brushing some of his hair behind his ear. He scoffs, lying back down with his arms crossed over his chest. “Anything to keep your job but not to keep me.”

“That would suggest I had you in the first place,” your lips stretch further, teasing lilt finding its way into your voice as Minghao freezes and avoids your gaze, “Does this count as a confession, Haohao?” 

“Shut up,” he grumbles. You don’t listen.

“Besides, you are my job. Unless you want to be my pet, my-” you don’t get to offer him other alternatives as he springs from his spot and leans over you, holding himself up with one hand on either side of your body, kneeling next to you.

“Your?” he quirks a brow at you. It’s much harder to stand your ground when he drops the shy act, or maybe just puts on this confident one, but you do anyway.

“What would you like to be, hm? Give me some ideas,” you hum. He sighs, deliberately letting his head fall lover until his hair tickles your skin.

“I would like to be listened to,” he suggests, making you laugh. 

“We’re friends now, aren’t we? Friends push each other’s buttons,” you chide playfully. You feel comfortable. Even with him hovering above you, you feel safe and content. It’s unreal that not so long ago this would be unthinkable. 

“I don’t think we’re friends,” and it’s only the statement, plain and simple. You smile. You really do feel comfortable. It’s a new feeling. And it’s refreshing.

“Isn’t there enough unspoken things between us as is?” you don’t tease anymore. 

“So you have a name for this?” he tilts his head, his smile mirroring yours because he knows you don’t. You admit your defeat with a shake of your head and don’t push him off when he lies down again, only this time with his head resting on your stomach. You’re nice enough to run your fingers through his hair too. He leans into your touch in appreciation.

You stay silent, watching the stars twinkling above. You like this. You could stay like this, you think, and live your life satisfied and happy. But could you? Isn’t that what you both thought before too? Maybe there’s danger here that you’re just not seeing yet. You don’t want to lose this. Then again, it’s not like you can find the answer and the solution at this very moment. Not when you’re distracted by how soft Minghao’s hair feels between your fingers and the feeling of his fingers playing with yours when he inevitably searches for your hand. Maybe it’s about time you came to terms with the fact that he’s right - you’d rather keep him than any job.

You think about where the future could take you until your eyes close and you fall asleep.

There must be some sort of telepathy connecting you two because he brings up the future himself some time later.

You sit down and discuss everything: Are the people at the facility still looking for you? Is there a chance they could find you here? Does anyone remember him anymore - would they recognize him? Is there anywhere else you could go?

There are endless questions and very few answers. Plenty of books and a projector with what seems like an endless supply of old movies and shows are great for entertainment, but suck at providing information about the current situation across your solar system. 

So you work with the worst scenarios each time.

It doesn’t matter much because the outcome you agree on would likely be the same in any case - you can’t stay here forever.

Minghao seems as mournful about it as you feel but you can’t run away from the truth forever. Just because nobody should know about this and nobody bothered you here yet doesn’t mean it will never happen. Not to mention the other factors.

“I wanna see more,” Minghao admits quietly, his hands playing with yours to ease his anxiety, “I like it here. But I’m afraid I’ll feel trapped again if we stay.”

You nod. That’s true, of course. And you can understand his desire to see more - to learn more. It’s one of the things you have in common.

“Do you have anywhere you want to explore?” you ask, supportive as can be because he needs it. Because you want this too.

“Does your family have any other secret mansion?” he might be teasing, but you know he hopes you’ll say yes. It would make things much easier.

“No,” you sigh, then you smile, “So that means we’re completely free. If we have nowhere to go, we might as well go anywhere.”

He might’ve changed quite a bit, yet the soft glow of his happiness never did. He lets his body fall forward and curl against yours. You chuckle and wrap an arm around him.

“I like the sound of that,” he whispers, nuzzling into your shoulder. 

“Me too,” you feel a flutter in your chest. It’s like you’re a child again, being told you’re going on a trip but the destination is a surprise. It’s like you’re back at the facility, before you knew any better, being told you’re going to work with a level 1 automaton but you won’t know which one until Monday. “Let’s do some research and get going?”

“Yeah,” he hums against your skin, “But only after one last night outside. I can’t leave before that.”

Now that’s a sentiment you can relate to.

[deansapplepie]

Inherited | Chapter 4

Summary: You’re not leaving the farm and now Daryl need to deal with the fact that both of you are sharing a house.

Warnings: yelling (?), swearing, ghosts of the past, soft asshole Merle.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count: 2,630

A/N: English isn’t my first language so it can have mistakes.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Why does it matter?

The next morning Aaron and Eric left to New York, you were going to miss them, but life needed to go on and they had their own lives. You stayed on the porch watching the taxi disappear on the road, now your real life started, no Aaron and Eric to build a bubble of protection around you. It was you, the farm, the memories of your father, your ghosts and Daryl.

“Why didn’t ya get a ride with them?” You jumped at Daryl’s voice and presence, you thought he had left as soon as the guys had said their farewells.

“ ‘cause I’m not leaving” you answered, and now it was his moment of being startled, his heart beat desperately and anxiety was boiling in the pit of his stomach.

“Wha’ d’ya mean?”

“It’s ours. Everything. I don’t mistrust you, but he made this choice for a reason and I don’t think I was supposed to leave.” You turned to him and you couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. “We’re stuck together.”

He stared at you for some seconds and it felt like hours, you held his sight. Who looked away first would lose this battle. You didn’t know what was on his mind, but you knew he wouldn’t voice anything. “I’m planning on separating his things for donating, there’s probably things that fit you. If you wanna, you can join me and help, of course if you don’t have anything better to do.”

He wanted to say ‘maybe’ or ‘I dunno’, but nothing came out of his mouth, he grunted in response and left descending the stairs, he needed to think, he needed some time. He was almost accepting the idea of both of you having to talk from time to time due to the situation, but he wasn’t prepared to live full time with you.

After he left, you went back inside and went towards your dad’s bedroom, you didn’t opened it since you arrived and you still didn’t know if you were ready for it. You breathed in, your hand touched the doorknob and you finally opened the door. It was the same you remembered, all organized and clean, mostly men weren’t as organized as him.

It hurt not seeing him around and it felt wrong going through his things, but you also knew that it made no good keeping his things and it would be better if you could redirect it all for people that could use or that needed. You made small piles of things, his shirts, his belts with cool buckles, boots, pants, hats… there were so many things, but fortunately you knew what to do with some of them.

It wasn’t very difficult to separate his things, since he was very organized, but of course you couldn’t make it all in a day. You walked around the room and on top of the chest of drawers you saw a picture of you and Daryl, when you were kids. You remembered so damn well when it was taken, it had been on your first summer back to the farm and you were so happy, even Daryl was smiling in the pictures, teeth and all, and even as a kid he wasn’t one to openly smile like that.

“Why are ya smiling stupidly?” You jumped at the voice that came from the door.

“Jesus Christ! Couldn’t you knock or make some noise? You scared the shit out of me!” You complained, your hand on your chest and the other still holding the picture frame. Your smile faded, you hadn’t even noticed how big you were smiling, your cheeks hurt.

He shrugged, he didn’t give a damn if he scared you or not, it even entertained him. But his curiosity was bigger and stronger than him, so he didn’t even see when the words left his mouth. “What were ya lookin’ at?” He knew he was going to regret it.

“Us.” You replied, you could have made up an excuse and hidden the picture, but he was going to know it either way. Besides that, baby Daryl wasn’t the one that hurt you so you were allowed to smile and remember fondly of him. You turned the picture frame to him, so he could see. “Little you, with his cute blond hair and smiling, who’d guess you’d become your grumpy asshole ass.” You didn’t even know if it was allowed say the word ass so many times in the same sentence.

He took the frame from your hand and looked at the picture, damn, it was difficult to maintain his stoic face at something so cute and pure. His childhood were never easy or magic like the other children, but his best memories had been in this farm, with you and your dad… sometimes one good memory with Merle here and there. “Look lil ya before you became yer bitchy run away self.” He retorted using the cue of the moment to mask his smile into a sassy one.

When he took his eyes off the picture, he caught you staring at him. He wanted to know what you were thinking, but he couldn’t quite see your thoughts and feelings at the moment. He looked straight in your eyes for a little more time and then averted his gaze from you.

“I organized it in piles and there’s somethings that I think would be perfect for you. Like his stylish belts.” You took one in your hand to show him, he knew all his belts, he had seen him using it throughout the years. “I know you have your own, but they’re very beautiful. He was very fond of them, so I think you’re the perfect person to have it. Besides, it’s a good thing to have to remember him.”

“I don’t feel good taking his things… it feels wrong” He looked anywhere but you.

“And I don’t like to touch his things to give away and all, but is something I need to do. We can’t keep everything locked in here. I know you don’t believe in shit, but for him to be in peace on the other side, we need to move on…” you said, your voice dying in the end, expecting him to answer you harshly, but he didn’t. He just grunted and took the belt that was on your hand with a beautiful horse sculpted on its buckle. “Nice, so… his hats, you can also have them. Or at least the ones you like. I’m keeping this one.” You showed him a beautiful brown cowboy hat that you had given him in one of his birthdays many years ago. “Some shirts if you like or if it fits, you can take too. Many things are not your size, so… maybe they could fit Merle? I don’t know. The boots we need to think about something, I know you’re not the same size.”

You were holding all the conversation alone, he was unable to say anything. What he could possibly say? It pained him seeing all the things from your father being separated to give away, but he knew you were right and soon or later you’d need to do that. He woke from his thoughts with you waving your hands in front of him.

“Wha’?” He answered coming back from his turmoil of thoughts.

“I was asking about Merle, how’s he going? What’s he doing?” You asked leaning on the drawers.

“Why does it matter?” He answered, since when were you interested in Merle?

“Because he’s you brother and my friend.” You answered. God, how could he be like this? You had known Merle all your life, you could care about him and he wasn’t so bad as anyone else thought.

“He’s fine. He’s probably doing shit.” His dry answer got to your nerves, but you breathed in and kept calm.

“I was thinking… if he doesn’t have anything better to do, maybe we can contract him. We’ll need help and it’s a good way of keeping him away from… the bad things.” Why were worrying about him? It was none of your business! He was the one that should worry about his own fucking brother!

“And you think an honest job would keep him away from the nasty things he does?” His tone was acid.

“I don’t know, but we could try to help him. We can’t abandon him and…” you never got to finish your thoughts.

“He fucking abandoned me! Not once! Not twice! Many times!” He bursted out.

“I know…”

“No. Ya don’t.” He said teeth greeted. When did he became like this about Merle? His brother wasn’t an easy person, but his brother was everything to him, he would never turn his back to Merle. “I’m not talking to him about it, maybe ya should. Yer good at that, aren’t ya? Just like you made back then.”

He stormed off the room and in seconds you could hear his heavy angry steps down the stairs. Wow! Was he really mad at his brother because you told him all that happened? Did Merle lecture him or something? Damn. You didn’t know what to think.

You hadn’t expected to find Merle in the bus to Atlanta in the scorching hot day in Georgia. You were just trying to run away from everything, the negative thoughts, the shame, his words, your words, the pain… That same day you had made your luggage and called Maggie asking if she could take you to town, you were going earlier to Florida where you were going to College. She tried to talk you out of it, but you just couldn’t stay any longer.

That morning you left your dad heartbroken, he didn’t understood what had happened. He knew Daryl and you had fought, he could feel it in the air. The day before none of you showed up for dinner, saying you were not hungry and that day in the morning Daryl left early to the woods to hunt and clean his mind before starting work. Both of you gave him lame excuses and he didn’t buy any of them, you were inseparable this summer, well you had always been, but he knew there were a couple of summers that things changed between you two to more than friendship. God! He was even afraid he’d be a grandpa before what he expected. He knew both of you would eventually fall in love and get together, since childhood you were like soulmates, but he also thought he was too young to have grandchildren.

So, when you left and none of you would tell him the real reason, he stopped asking, he wasn’t going to force you into anything. But he also noticed that after that you started to call more and come less to the farm. After that you came a couple of years for thanksgiving and Christmas, but then you stopped completely.

It was the middle of the morning when Maggie left you at the bus station, you bought your ticket and as soon as they said you could enter the bus you did. You found a sit in the middle of it and chose it as yours. One minute before the bus left the station someone came running and hopped on the bus. You didn’t really paid attention, you just wanted the bus to start moving so you could watch the landscapes passing by the window.

“ ‘morning doll!” Someone said sitting by your side. You looked to your left to see Merle sat by your side. “ I Wasn’t expecting to see ya here.”

“Hey Merle…” you answered, normally it was fun to have him around, but right now you didn’t think it was a good idea to have him there. Daryl and you were much younger than him, and he saw you growing up, so even though he would hit on every woman, he never did it to you. He saw you like a little sister. “Why are you here?”

“Got some business in Atlanta…” he answered, by business he meant dealing drugs or robbing some place.

“Hope you don’t get in trouble.” You said, months after you heard he had gone to jail. Again.

“Hm… wasn’t ya supposed to leave in middle of August?” He asked, of course he knew… or he just supposed because normally it was how long the summer vacations lasted.

“Yeah, I changed my plans.” You answered looking through the window. You were not being yourself, he could see it, and he didn’t need to be a mind reader for that.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Did ya fight with Daryl?” He wasn’t the one to go around, he’d rather be direct.

Silence.

“So you fought.” He affirmed, no answer from you was an answer. “Don’t worry, give him some days, he’ll call ya and ya’ll make up.”

“We won’t.” You rested your head on the window.

“It was that bad?” He asked, you turned to him and nodded. “Ya know yer like a lil sis for me, ya can tell me anything.”

“We were both assholes.” You reckoned, but you thought what he did was worse.

You knew you’d probably regret it in the future, but you opened your heart to Merle and told him everything about your fight. At the moment it made you feel a little bit better, but of course later when you were alone you’d feel bad all again.

“Damn… this time it was real shit.” He murmured, he passed his arm around your shoulders and squeezed your arm. “ ‘m gonna kick his balls. That wasn’t how I raised him.”

You gave him a look of ‘really?’, because you knew what Merle was capable of saying.

“I dun say the things he said to a pretty sweet girl like ya.” You weren’t sure that he didn’t, because you never saw Merle being nice to any woman besides you or the nice elderly lady from the bakery that would give him extra cookies or muffins every time he went there.

“Please Merle, don’t tell him anything. I don’t want he thinking I was talking bad about him.” You pleaded him, you just told him because he was a friend and you needed to vent. Also he wasn’t going to leave you alone until you said anything. “Promise you’re not saying anything.”

“I promise doll.” He lied. Once he was with his little brother he’d give him a hard time. He knew you wasn’t a saint too, you even admitted it to him, but he couldn’t let him go easy for what he did.

At the Atlanta bus station, you said your farewells to each other and received a brotherly hug from Merle before heading to the airport.

After you finished with everything in your dad’s bedroom, you took the things you separated for Daryl plus the picture and headed downstairs. You didn’t know where he was or where he went, but you descended to the basement and let everything on the mat in front of his door. You weren’t expecting the way he reacted and you didn’t know everything would turn out like this. You sighed and left the basement, going to kitchen after all, you still needed to eat.

Wanna be add to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

Inherited Taglist: @angelbunny222 @lightningyummy

[runningfrom2am]

to be honest, giving your favourite books for an undefined period of time is a huge thing when even lending them to your friends is hard enough.

“Him and Cole are practically the same person!” no, they just happen to be looking exactly the same. coryo is one of a kind and you can take this both as a compliment and an insult.

“Lennox you are such a.. boy!” me, any given moment.

almost nothing is as unsettling to me as relationships that don’t have a name. r can’t go and live in the capitol anytime soon and coryo would rather die than live in district 12. i understand why they haven’t discussed it, though i’m sure that coryo is more than willing to call her his “girlfriend”, yet it feels like personal attack.

THEY ARE COMMUNICATING!! FINALLY!! 🥹

cole, when i catch you cole WHEN I CATCH YOU- (he got what he deserved 😌)

standing in front of a gun held by the boy you love but also had nightmares about, for someone who was talking about getting you killed when you know it may cause too much trouble for you, takes a lot of will power. not everyone could and certainly not everyone would. this was what stopped coryo from shooting, what reminded him of all the other times.

coryo trying to save r from seeing yet another body-

WHAT WILL THEY DO WITH HER?

bestieee i was so nervous for you to read this part haha so i HOPE you liked it ahhh

1. omg literally like i couldn’t do it hahah she is stronger than i

2. men with blonde hair and blue eyes are a very valid weakness to have in my opinion. also i feel like lennox won’t really see past that surface level similarity, at least not until coryo proves to him that he is different

3. lol literally he is once again proving his little brother energy haha

4. SO REALLL situationships are an actual nightmare. me and my bf had to go from spending every day together for the first few months of our relationship to being long distance and it was SO hard and we couldn’t talk about it at ALL until literally the day we both had to leave. and even then we had a plan of when we would see each other again and we could call everyday and facetime everyday but for them they have none of those options like i wouldn’t talk about it either.

and yes like he’s dying to be like “yes this is my girlfriend” but i feel like he’s still a little bit scared of rejection after what happened after the games where she unintentionally ghosted him

5. WE LOVE THEM BEING ABLE TO COMMUNICATE OMG

6. HES SO FUCKED FOR THAT like i really need to know what their history is bc i feel like it’s some complicated tea. bottom line he did get what he deserved lol

7. it’s literally so intense and like clearly it was an impulsive decision on her part but she really committed. i think too that it was really good for her bc 1. obviously she knows now for sure that he wouldn’t hurt her (at least not on purpose) and 2. that maybe she hasn’t changed as much as she feared that she did. or maybe at the very least she’s starting to come back. it was a HUGE step for her and honestly i’m proud.

9. aww like yeah of course he would 🥺 he really tried his best and made her his priority like immediately and just AH

10. 🤭🤭🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

[diabolik-art-blog]

Memories of that spring

AO3: Chapter 03

Fanfiction.net: Chapter 03

Summary: I will never back again. I won't back to this mansion again.

Christmas was near and the weather was getting colder and colder every day. This year was one of the hardest winters for people. In the attic, Yuma and Yui were reading a scary book about vampires while they had turned on a small lantern light and were on a straw bed under a blanket to warm themselves.

Yui: Yuma, look at here. Vampires are so powerful that they can crush a human's bones with just one hand.

Yui was staring at the pictures in the book with great astonishment, but her face showed that she was a little scared.

Yuma: Vampires are very scary and powerful.

Yuma never thought he would be so afraid of anything. He always considered himself a brave person who will take care of his friends and family at any cost. But after seeing the photos written by the unknown author in this book, he realized that he is very timid.

Yui: I never thought there was anyone more powerful than you, Yuma.

Yuma: Hehe... It doesn't matter how strong those bloodthirsty fools are. I am always stronger than them.

Yui: But Yuma, it wrote here that they can suck a person so much blood that the person dies.

Yuma: It doesn't matter what that ridiculous book says, Yui. I will never let anyone hurt me and my family or you.

Yui smiled sweetly at Yuma and took his hand and they continued reading together until Yuma got tired and turned to his back staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. The air outside was very cold and the sound of the howling wind could be heard from the seams of the room. That night there was a big blizzard that made it colder than usual.

Yui closed the book and hid it under her straw bed and got on the bed and laid down next to Yuma and joined him.

Yui: Yuma, who do you think was the ghost that called me and took me to the old castle?

Yuma was stunned by Yui's words. He clearly remembers that Yui said she saw a ghost in the old abandoned castle, but he didn't know who that ghost could be.

Yuma: I don't know Yui. Can you tell me what that ghost looked like?

Yui: She was the ghost of a lady. She had long and light hair. Her hair was golden like light of the sun and it seems that she was very soft. She was wearing a long red skirt. But her skirt was full of blood stains and her skirt was also torn. The eyes of that ghost were very beautiful and it kept calling me.

She stretched her hand towards me and took me with her to that castle. I remember that she told me that I belong to that castle. She gave me this book and I slowly fell asleep there.

When I fell asleep, I had a strange dream. A dream where a queen and a king were holding a beautiful baby together and smiling at each other. As if that castle used to belong to that king and queen and that baby was their child.

When I woke up, it was dark. I was so scared that's why I took the book and ran away because a voice kept shouting my name. But it was as if that voice was crying and sad.

Yuma listened carefully to all of Yui's sentences. Yui's words surprised Yuma a little. Yui was clearly seeing the story of the previous king and queen in her dream, but no one knew that the king and queen had a child. As far as the people knew, the king had no children, and after Karlheinz killed them, their throne was left without an heir, and the great Karlheinz became the king of this realm.

Yuma, who was staring at Yui with wide eyes, scratched his head and thought a little. He had no answers to Yui's questions.

Yuma: Well... this is strange.

Yui: Yuma, why do you think that woman keeps calling my name?

Yuma: I really don't know.

Yuma looked at Yui with an embarrassed face. He really didn't want to disappoint Yui, but he really didn't have any answers to Yui's questions. The existence of the ghost in the old castle surprised Yuma even more.

Yuma: I feel that the woman is the former queen and she wants to tell you something.

Yui: But the former queen is dead.

Yuma: Maybe her ghost came back to this world to tell you something?

Yui: Do you mean she wants my help to find her child?

Yuma: I'm not even sure the previous queen and king had children. Well, in fact, they did not have any children that Karlheinz could make the throne his own, otherwise their child should have been the heir to the throne.

The more they thought about it, the more confused the two children became. Maybe it was a little difficult for children of their age to think about this.

Yui: Yuma, let's go to that castle together.

Yuma: WHAT?

Hearing Yui's words, Yuma jumped up and fell off the bed so that his back hurt and his head was dizzy.

*Thud*

Yui: Oh... are you ok, Yuma?

Yuma: Yui, are you crazy? Do you want us to be punished with a whip?

Yuma always knew how painful it was for Yui to hear that word. Yui was always afraid of the whip. When she was younger, her father was greeted very harshly by the king's soldiers. Her father did not have a lot of crops and money to give as taxes to the king, so he was flogged as a punishment.

Old man Tenjin was too old and weak to endure that severe torture and it was Yuma's father who cared for him every day until he recovered. That's why the whip has always been scary for Yui.

Yui: No... No... I don't want them to punish me with a whip... *Sob*.....

Tears fell from Yui's eyes. Yuma scared her so much that he felt remorse. He went back on the bed and hugged Yui and stroked her head to calm her down.

Yuma: Don't worry Yui. As long as we obey the king's orders, we will never be punished. Don't worry.

Yui rested in Yuma's arms, wondering how she could find out the truth about the queen and king's lost child. One day she will understand.

*TIMESKIP*

Beatrix: It was wrong. Again.

Shu: I'm sorry, mother.

The young prince is studying Spanish in his room. Although the prince is an extremely intelligent boy, he has no interest in learning Spanish and cannot pronounce words correctly.

The queen has put too much pressure on the young prince. She wants her child to be perfect because one day he is going to be the king of this realm. For this reason, she is very strict in her training. But as it is known, Prince Shu does not enjoy these moments at all.

Shu: Gobi... Gobi..... Gobier....

Beatrix: Wrong. Try again.

Shu: Gobi.....

Beatrix: SHU!

The young prince was trying hard to pronounce the words correctly, but his mother's strictness and the serious looks of his younger brother, who was attending the Spanish language lesson, tormented him more and more.

Reiji: Mother, let me tell. Gobierno.

Shu held the book in front of his face so that his younger brother and mother would not see. Shu was very embarrassed. It didn't matter how hard he tried. He had no interest in learning such a lesson. These hard and difficult words only tormented him.

Shu closed his eyes tightly so as not to cry. He couldn't stand it. As he was holding the book in front of his face, he got up from his chair and quickly left the room and ran towards his room.

Beatrix: Shu come back. The lesson is not over yet.

Reiji: Mother, let me go after him.

Reiji got up from his chair and went to Shu's room. He ran towards the room, but before he opened the door, he could hear his crying from behind the door. It was strange for him to see Shu crying. Because he had never cried before. Maybe because Shu always hid his sadness from others.

Shu: That's enough. Enough. *Sob* ... I can't stand it... *Sob*...

Shu's childish wails and cries could be heard from behind the door, and Reiji quickly entered the room without a moment's pause.

Shu, noticing the presence of his younger brother, quickly wiped his tears with his sleeve and turned his face away so that Reiji wouldn't see his tears. Reiji knew all his weaknesses, that's why he didn't want his brother to see him weak.

Reiji: Go back to the classroom now. Mother is waiting for you.

Hearing this, Shu clenched his teeth and looked angrily at his younger brother.

Shu: I'm never coming back.

Reiji: It's pathetic. The future king is sitting in his room crying like a child.

Shu: Get out of my room.

Reiji: I can't believe that you are going to be king one day.

Reiji turned to the door and looked at Shu again before leaving the room.

Reiji: Come back now. Mother is waiting for you.

Reiji said his last sentence and left the room. Like an innocent child, Shu covered his face with his hands to muffle his cries.

Suddenly, a blizzard caused the window of his room to open and wind and snow came into his room. At that moment, Shu hurried to the window and closed it with great effort until he looked out. The blizzard was very intense and nothing could be seen.

Shu remembered the boy he had seen that day in the apple farm. That big farm looked like it was so much fun to play and run around there. Remembering those memories, Shu looked down at his coat and wished he had the courage to do that. Maybe he really had the courage to do so.

Shu took his woolen coat and put it on and took a hat and scarf and covered his face with them and went to the door of the castle and opened it and looked outside. Blizzard was too intense and it was too dangerous to go outside, but the reminder of the boring classrooms and his annoying brothers made him leave the castle without any hesitation.

Shu took one last look at the castle and remembered what Reiji said to go back to the classroom because his mother was waiting for him.

Shu: I will never return. I will never come back.

Shu boldly left the castle and tried to get away from the castle in heavy snow and blizzard. The blizzard was very strong and nothing could be seen, but Shu boldly moved forward and slowly left the castle without looking back.

*TIMESKIP*

The blizzard was getting stronger and stronger every moment. The old man Tenjin's hut was still warm and the two children were hugging each other on the straw bed. Yuma was fast asleep and still holding Yui's hands in his sleep.

But Yui was still awake. She was staring at the attic ceiling, deep in thought. Yui couldn't help but think about that ghost. She was sure that that ghost called her because of her name and gave her this book.

Every moment Yui tried to close her eyes, she thought of that woman as if she was a queen. It means that the previous queen of this land was so beautiful and kind. What happened to their child? If they had a child, then where is that child now?

She was drowning in disturbing thoughts when she decided to go to her father. Talking to her father always calmed her down. Yui slowly got up from the straw bed so as not to wake up Yuma. She went down the stairs to join her father.

When she reached the bottom floor, she noticed that her father was sleeping on the chair by the fireplace. He smiled softly in his sleep, which showed that he was dreaming a beautiful dream.

Yui went near her father and sat next to him on the fireplace, staring at the fire that turned the wood into ashes.

Yui: Papa... I love you so much.

Yui took her father's hand and stroked it. Yui's gentle caress made old man's smile brighter. His warm smile showed that he was really happy and Yui kissed her old father's hands.

As Yui caressed her old father's hands, the fire in the fireplace became less and less. Yui's attention was drawn to the fireplace, which light was getting less and less every moment, and Yui realized that the firewood was all burnt and she had to put new firewood in the fireplace.

Yui hurried out of the hut and went to the barn behind the hut where the old man always keeps his firewood. When Yui arrived at the warehouse, she was faced with a terrible scene. Blizzard destroyed the barn door and snow had found its way into the barn and soaked all the firewood.

Yui hurriedly returned to the hut and tried to wake up her father to find a solution as soon as possible, otherwise he would freeze from the cold. Yui was shaking Tenjin's old body with her small hands and trying to wake him up.

Yui: Papa, please wake up. Papa, please... If you don't wake up, you will freeze.

Yui's efforts were futile. The old man was very tired and could not wake up from deep sleep. Yui quickly went upstairs to the attic and this time tried to wake up Yuma.

Yui: Yuma, wake up. Please wake up. The fire in the fireplace is going out.

It didn't matter how many times she called his name or shook him. Yuma didn't wake up either. He also seemed very tired.

Yui was confused and didn't know what to do. But she couldn't let her father and her best friend freeze to death. So, without any hesitation, she put on her warm clothes and went out of the hut to find firewood.

Despite the blizzard, it was very, very difficult to find firewood, but Yui couldn't just sit there waiting for the fire in the fireplace to go out, and without any fear, she continued on her way to find firewood.

The weather was terrible. It was dark everywhere and nothing could be seen. The wind hit the little girl's body from everywhere and threw her over and over on the snow. Yui's small body was barely moving and she was trying to continue her path while holding a small lantern in her hand.

The blizzard continued, and the little girl bravely continued on her way, until the wind struck her again, and the lamp fell from her hand onto the snow.

Yui: Oh no.

The snowflakes extinguished Yui's lantern, and Yui is now lost in the darkness and unable to see anything.

The weather was getting colder and colder and Yui was scared and didn't know what to do. She wrapped her small hands around herself and tried to warm herself a little, but it was useless.

Yui got up and tried to find a shelter for herself until she saw a small cave made with rocks, she quickly went towards it and took shelter there. It was cold inside the cave, but Yui started searching inside the cave to find some dry firewood. Also, while searching, a voice caught Yui's attention.

???: Help ...... Help.... Please someone help me.

Hearing a faint voice asking for help, Yui thought it was a fantasy, so she continued searching, but she heard the voice again, and this time it was louder than before.

???: Someone please help me.

When Yui realized that the voice was real, she quickly left the cave and followed the voice to see who was asking for help. The blizzard was decreasing moment by moment and Yui was able to continue on the path more easily.

After a few minutes, the blizzard stopped and Yui reached the frozen lake and saw a little boy sitting in the middle of the lake and crying. It was dark and he didn't notice Yui's presence at first, but when Yui went near the Lake, the little boy finally saw her. The boy looked at Yui with pleading eyes.

Shu: Please help me.

[pridepurgatorium]

— It’s a horror movie!?!

@ombrotherlylove2023 , Levithan and Mammon

Day 3: Movie watching & hugs

Mention of Asmo having sex, very brief I would still consider it teen but if there is an issue I can easily change the line. I would like to note that I’m aware the story behind Mammon was traumatizing, as such consider this an AU where that didn’t happen, Levi did not make his brother watch a horror movie knowing what happened to him. The scene that triggers him is similar to his trauma and that's just because I'm uncreative.

Here, I made up for yesterday not being centered around Mammon. This one gave me the most trouble, I believe it was the 2nd to last one I wrote? You’ll see tomorrow’s work also features Levi and that’s because I originally wrote that for him… so…

Horror anime. Horror manga. Slasher gore-fests. You name it and there was probably something in Levi’s collection to suit your fancy. He’s read it all from the deceptively pink magical girl ones to Junji Ito himself; he thoroughly enjoys the genre (not all the time though, he has to be in the mood for it). 

One of his favorites, The Author Of My Favorite Book Asked For My Help To Write Her Next Hit But Anything I Write Turns Into Prophecies And So When I Plagiarized Chainsaw Man The Devils Started Attacking, recently got greenlight for a film that Levi patiently waited for (it’s been a decade! he deserves to complain!) and finally it’s here.

However,

This one is…

Scary. It’s terrifying. He can barely watch the anime with breaks in between so he’s sure he needs one of his brothers to watch it with him.

The question is who? Who will be his willing participant? Lucifer is a no. Satan might’ve said yes but aforementioned Lucifer has pissed him off bad recently and Levi would rather not deal with that. He can hear the fuckfest Asmo is having through the walls (why didn’t he cast a noise canceling spell???) and Beel and Belphie are for once, actually out of the house (Belphie is the surprising one), so that leaves him with one unfortunate brother.

Well Mammon would have to agree, after all how could you say no to Levi’s puppy eyes (and a couple thousand grim)? 

So just like that, it was movie night! Popcorn in hand, blankets grabbed, (one of his) DVD(s) popped in, and an already nervous Mammon on his couch, they were ready to go!

The movie started and for the most part Mammon was ok, maybe a shout here and there but other than that he was doing exceptionally well for his track record!… until he wasn’t…

There was a part in the movie where a ghost took control of one of the MC’s bodies and this shook Mammon to his core.

“Mammon? Are you ok?” Levi asked, starting to get genuinely worried when Mammon didn’t even yelp at that scene.

“I uhm- Yeah could we just take a break please?” Mammon asked after a little bit of working up the courage to ask.

Was it really scaring him that much? Levi was having conflicting feelings but of course he would pause it.

After a little while Mammon still didn’t look any better and that’s when it happened. In typical “just watched a horror movie” fashion, there was a loud noise from somewhere and Mammon screamed. 

Levi couldn’t think of anything better to do so he did the only thing he could think of and grabbed his headphones, put them on Mammon's head and hugged him as hard as he could, hoping to ground him like his older brother would often do for him. 

The noise was of course nothing, and they were some of the most powerful demons in the Devildom so logically, nothing could’ve harmed them.

But fear isn’t logical. 

But nobody is stronger than Mammon.

If anyone can work through his fears and better himself, it’s Mammon.

I keep changing my formatting I’m so sorry lmao. I’m not sure if I’m happy with this but it’s ok. Also I keep telling myself I like all horror but I cannot watch horror movies they scare me too much, I like psychological horror (spare reccs?) and I read some horror manga here and there but I don’t like it as much as I think I do lol.

[wjehfshs]

Some head-canons for cod characters while I work on a request and I’m at a family birthday party

Kinda suggestive on Keegans part, mentions of alcohol and smoking

Gaz

Held his mums hand in public until he was 17

Mamas boy

Had the type of father son relationship where they would play catch outside

Hot chocolate >> coffee

Absolutely terrified of kids but kids are all over him when he’s out in public or anywhere with kids

Whenever he got face paint as a kid at birthday party’s or something he always either got a tiger or Spider-Man

Gaming nerd

Constantly worried for Price because Price smokes

Most in tune with pop culture and social media

Has a tik tok account with 40K followers

He just posts training videos and self defence and people eat it up (people meaning me)

Pretty average childhood

First job was at a hotdog stand when he was 16

Ghost

Goes mute on rare occasions

Complete opposite of Gaz, loves kids but they’re terrified of him

Was a hot wheels kids but considering his childhood he would always just play with his friends hot wheels

Autistic

Secretly really attached to Price in a father son way but would rather die than admit it

Body is a HEATER. Literally never cold always complaining about how it’s hot

Insomniac (probably a trauma response but we don’t talk about that)

Joined the military to feel stronger than his father but stayed because he actually enjoyed it and made friends

On the rare occasion he does sleep he’s out like a light for at least 10+ hours

Type of kid in high-school to have no friends but didn’t care

Price

Favourite food is a scone

Scotch drinker

Trying to quit smoking for Gaz but struggles, needs a stress reliever from time to time

Body is also a heater but not as bad as Ghost

Was a sports kid in high-school

Kids are all over him and constantly think he’s like 97, he doesn’t mind tho he’s like a father

Typa dad to play catch with his kid

Recovering alcoholic

Very much popular nice kid in high-school. Everyone loved him and he got good grades

Sneezes like an explosion went off

Probably needs glasses to read

Soap

Basically deaf, “Huh? Huh? Huh?”

Kids hate him and he hates kids he likes it that way

Ate straight up mud and worms as a kid

Eats cereal RELIGIOUSLY

Body feels cold but he’s always saying how hot it is

Typa guy to walk an old woman across the street

Has a god awful amount of hair gel that he doesn’t even use because his hair defies gravity

Plays the bagpipes but not very well

Wakes up first. Without fail.

Ate dog food as a kid

No one touches the Mohawk (except Ghost)

Has a tik tok but like 72 followers and he gets so excited when he gets over 10 likes, he shows Gaz and Gaz doesn’t wanna break his heart by telling him that’s really not a lot

Loses his train of thought mid sentence

König

Also goes mute sometimes

When he gets too anxious and someone tries to talk to him and he’s not mute he’s speaking German and German only

Cold, all the time

Bounces his leg when he sits

Cant sleep properly for shit

Cuts his own hair because he hates having to communicate to people

His first birthday present was a fake crown from his parents

Kind of kid to hide behind his parents legs when he was little

Doesn’t drink or smoke or anything because it makes him sick

Likes soup idk why he just likes soup

Animal person but he’s so scared of hurting them especially really small animals like kittens

Gets sunburnt really easy

Sleeps with 5 thick blankets + 1 weighted blanket

Like soft fluffy things

Has to sometimes make his own clothes or blankets considering his size

Had a childhood cat that he considered his best friend

Keegan

Calls everyone who’s younger than him “kid” even if they’re just an hour younger or smth

Swears he’s a good driver (he’s canonically not)

Bit of a perv honestly (by bit I mean very much). He’s not creepy or anything just dirty minded

Was a Lego kid

Avoids children like the plague

Drinks beer but ever rarely

Also chronically cold

Was always the cooler older cousin

Like his steak burnt to a crisp

Spicy food enjoyer

Also good with pop culture and social media

Has a Twitter with 60K followers

Posts stuff in tactical gear

Knows what he’s doing if you know what I mean

Listens to metal

Also likes playing games

Really really nice hands

Ok that’s it for now. Can you tell I like Gaz and Keegan the most? Yeah. I want them

It’s so cold outside rn wtf

[haystarlight]

Luz Noceda-Blight "Mamá" (She/they, 45)

I let her keep the fang from the Titan Luz transformation. They also now have different color eyes.

Snake tattoo in honor of Manny. Like from the storyboards.

Still wears Amity's moon 🌒 necklace (also they switched earrings)

I gave her glasses and more belly, like Camila.

Owns a bookstore that sells human and witch books in Bonesborough.

Has already written at least one YA fantasy novel, published under an alias in the human world.

Still writes fanfiction but she only has WiFi to publish a new chapter when the portal to Earth is open.

People stop them for autographs on the street still.

Has learned to master King's glyph language and can now do magic again even without Stringbean.

King can turn her into her Titan form but only for very limited time and they're both weakened for a few minutes after. (Amity likes the Titan form tho 😳)

Their nieces and nephews call them "tía" or "tíe".

Taught both her kids Spanish.

Volunteers at the Bonesborough Orphanage, which is where they got Camilo from.

Sings her kids lullabies, both in English and in Spanish.

Is a consultant for the students learning about the human world at the University of Wild Magic.

Screams at her kids in Spanish when she's mad.

Both moms cook but Luz is the main cook of the household.

Can still lift Amity with their strong nerd arms (Amity swoons).

Amity Noceda-Blight "Mom" (She/her, 45)

Alador's hook nose.

Abomination hair like Darius.

A bit taller than Luz (by a few centimeters).

Thicc thighs save lives (broke Luz's neck by sitting on her face at least once).

Helps Hooty take care of the museum now that Lilith retired.

Still goes to read to kids at the library. (Sometimes Luz comes with her!)

Working full time as an abomination inventor/mechanic/engineer. Alador is also retired.

Has tried dyeing her hair lots of different colors before settling on this look.

Can turn into an abomination like Darius when she's angry.

Luz and Camila taught her some human food recipes, she finally understands that humans can't eat fairy pie.

Her nieces and nephews call her "Aunt Mittens".

Has to remind Luz to take their meds every morning.

Don't talk to her unless she's had her coffee.

She's the one that helps the kids do their hair.

Azúl Noceda-Blight (He/they, 8)

I wanted his name to be something more original. Too many people name their Lumity kids Azura. I went with Azúl because it's similar to Azura but not exactly the same, it's a Spanish name and it goes well with the character design.

Artificial pregnancy (Luz was the pregnant one).

The blue eyes are from Odalia, who's not in their life at all.

Mom and grandpa's nose.

Half-witch half-human actually results in very powerful offspring. As evidenced by the Clawthorne family. Azúl is stronger than you think.

Spends a lot of time with Uncle Gus, Aunt Em and Uncle Ed practicing his illusions. They're bad influences on him.

Is a very creative child and loves to draw, like their mamá.

Likes going to see Abu Camila on the human realm and help her at the vet clinic.

Healing magic and Illusion magic together make for a good anesthesiologist.

Mamá takes them to the human world to go trick or treating on Halloween.

Likes to play videogames with Uncles Gus and Hunter.

Wears a hat to hide their ears in the human world.

Doesn't really have any interest on the Azura books but likes it when mom reads Otabin to him.

Camilo Noceda-Blight "Milo" (He/him, 6)

Bipedal rat demon. Has a vial sac to do magic with.

They got him from the Bonesborough Orphanage when he was a baby rat. His biological parents are unknown.

Named after Abuela.

Azúl was a toddler when they got him but he was still very excited to have someone else to play with.

Milo's a very shy little guy and gets scared easily. Doesn't like initiating conversations unless he's comfortable. Azúl does a lot of the talking for him.

Does mouse noises a lot of the time. 🐭🐁🐀

Weirdly gets along well with Ghost.

Wanted to take Beast Keeping to understand creatures of the Boiling Isles a little better. Wanted to take Potions because he likes cooking.

Gets along really well with Eberwolf.

When visiting the human world, he wears a Concealer Stone that makes him look human with an illusion.

Tía Vee helps him whenever he has issues with his disguise.

Loves his adopted family a lot but is curious about his bio relatives sometimes.

[dantenyhpmir]

You Scare Me

Pairing; Konig x F!Reader, 

Plot; Konig visits you in the hospital after saving you in the most gruesome way 

Warnings; Voyeurism, threat of sexual assault/rape (Not from Konig), Freezing as a trauma response, PxV Sex, Unprotected sex, Oral sex(Fem receiving), “knife play”

Word Count; 5420

Dante Nyhpmir Masterlist

The trip to the new mission was awkward to say the least. You and Konig had assigned seats next to each other but he didn't seem like he wanted to talk with you much. Honestly you got a long fine with everyone else on the team. Zero was the other sniper who was training you, she was so confident in her craft and in you it didn't take long for you to believe in your skills as well. The team got divided up differently this time. Ghost assigned Zero to cover himself and Soap while you were covering Alejandro and Konig. Both lovely people. Well you think. You couldn't get a read on Konig. No matter how often you worked together. Every hello you gave him was met with a quick hi and an even quicker exit. Like he wanted to avoid you. You were always kind, you didn't understand but now in the back of the jeep heading to the next mission, he couldn't bolt. 

"You okay Konig?" You ask genuinely

"What? But of course" he says nervously, staring out the side of the jeep. Avoiding eye contact 

Ghost is driving while Zero is in the passenger seat going over protocol. You aren't paying too much attention, you've been over it so many times. It feels like she's just saying it to fill the air. You turn away, pretending to listen while you also stare out the window. Konig's head slowly turns. He catches a look at your jawline, your beautiful hair and can't help but stare at your chest and especially your thighs. He swallows hard before your eyes realize his fixations and he turns again. Like a child caught in candy he shouldn't be eating. 

"Are you nervous about the mission?" You ask out of concern 

"Oh, um, yes. Very much so, quite" he coughed out. 

You can see Zero's eye roll in the front mirror. And within the hour you would understand why. 

Konig wasn't scared of anything. He was 6'8, absolutely massive and one of the deadliest men to probably ever walk the earth. Covering him in battle was basically a vacation, your scope framed on him but never really needing to squeeze the trigger. By the time you would notice another enemy he had disposed of them. Picking them off so quickly, most of them didn't register the giant was so within their scope. You fell victim to it in a way, so fixated on his moments, watching the hulk of a man move through out of the crowd destroying everything in his wake, you hadn't noticed an enemy sneaking up behind you. 

There was no warning for you, that's what made it so scary. The instant pain of a knife going into your side. You cry out in agony, your instincts hardly ever failing. Even within your shock knowing to hit the button on your radio and crying out for help. 

"I'm down, hurry!!!!" You manage to cough out as you turn to see your intended killer. One man standing over you as others follow him. Usually no one finds you over the hills behind the old barriers. Especially with how little shots you ever fired off. They must have just been heading this way and noticed you, hardly anything gave away your position. 

He looms over you before kneeling down. Your adrenaline wants to take over so badly but your flight is stronger. You know you can't fight off all these men, not at close range. If they were far away they wouldn't stand a chance against you and your sniper, but they were too close and your body was betraying you. Bleeding out and in too much pain to get up and run like the devil was chasing you. All you could do was manage to drag yourself back, but you hit yourself on the barrier. What once was your cement alley turned into your prison as the man got closer trailing the knife over your cheek. 

"We're going to have fun with you" he laughs 

"Red, where are you??" Zero cries over the radio 

"Tell her you're fine" he says while the knife moves deeper into your cheek and a smile tugs on his lips.

You swallow hard, too scared to move. You can't even do what he's asking. Your arms won't let you. Why was your body betraying you? 

"Did I stutter?" He asks while grabbing on your face and pushing the knife in closer to your skin. This time cutting through the flesh 

"Move!!" You think but you can't. They always talk about fight or flight but no one talks about freezing. How your body knows that fighting would end in turmoil and that you couldn't out run all of them. It felt like a betrayal, the way your body wanted to protect you. Sometimes training kicked in, sometimes it didn't and sometimes, the gentle giant would appear without a sound, barreling his hands over the man's head to stick his fingers into his eye sockets. 

The man screamed in torment while dropping the knife as you came down from the shock. There stood Konig. Pulling this scum of a man away from you by his eyes that had already collapsed, leaving their gooey remains on Konig's fingertips as he smashed his head into the barrier next to you. 

Over. 

And over. 

Again. 

"Don't" 

He smashes his head into the cement

"Ever" 

Again with more veracity 

"Touch" 

Again 

"Her" 

You swear you can see pieces of the man’s skull at this point. You've never seen anything so grizzly, at least not this close up before. The site of the inside of a man's brain is enough to make you lose your lunch, between this and the amount of blood you've lost, your vision is already dizzy. Starting to fade. You try to stay awake, fighting with the last morsel of energy you attempt to scrape up to stay active but you can't. 

The last thing you see is Konig turning to the other men who had followed your would be killer. Their shock stopped them in their tracks just as Konig tore into each of them. None of them had time to grab a hold of their weapon before their hands or throats were slit and then met with a thorough head bashing. They weren't just killed, “execution” seemed too generous from what you saw of Konig. They were obliterated. Their cries of terror drowned you out as your vision finally faded and your hearing along with it. 

Beep. 

Beep. 

Beep. 

The heart monitor calls to you as you wake. 

Beep. 

The air is stuffy, all you smell is Ethylene oxide and hydrogen peroxide in the air before finally registering your new room. Your new hospital attire. 

Flowers and a card sit across the table. There's a note from Price explaining what had happened to you. As if you didn't know, as if you didn't live it. As if the hole in your side with a giant bandage wouldn’t cue up the memories. It made sense they wouldn't necessarily be there when you woke up. You didn't even know how many days you had been out. The flowers had a card reading from Zero and the card signed by everyone of the team. Everyone except Konig. You wondered if he had complicated feelings about the whole situation or if he didn't think anything of it. Maybe he realized how traumatizing seeing that was for you and wanted to avoid really taking accountability for that. Or the opposite could be true, he could be wondering why he even needed to step in in the first place. Where was your training? Why would an armed soldier not take care of herself? 

What did it matter to you? You couldn't even tell if he liked talking with you. What would it matter what his thoughts on your situation were. You were hospitalized, you needed to focus on getting better. To rest while you could but your mind was so fixated on him. The way he moved, the second he was there. His words rang in your ear. 

Don't

Ever

Touch 

Her. 

You took a moment to exhale. Over and over again you heard it in your head, and your mind's eye started wondering just as your hands did. No one was coming to check on you. The team would be busy, no one knowing when you'd actually wake up. You had plenty of time to explore, to day dream. To day dream of what that intensity could bring to you. 

Don't 

You see his eyes staring down at you in your wondering imagination

Ever 

His hands, you think about ripping apart that man's skull 

Touch 

All for you 

Her 

When did you start wanting Konig? When did your brain start fixating on him so much, when did your body start craving his touch and could only settle for your own while you imagined just what he could do to you. 

He could kill you if he wanted. 

He never would. 

He was scared of you. 

Your body was so warm and cheeks already flushed thinking of him before even beginning to touch yourself. You moved the blanket off your bed, it was too hot. No one was coming anyway, let them see. With what you had been through, “who could judge, who would dare ask” you thought as your fingers explored between your lips, spreading every bit of juice that drenched out of you to the top of your clit as you ran circles around it. Off in your own world. 

The hospital smell didn't bother Konig too much. His cloth mask typically blocked out most of the smells. He wasn't sure how you'd react to seeing him, he didn't know you that well. Not that he didn't want to. You just intimidated him. He was already confused by social situations enough as it was. The dynamic that existed between all the men on the team was enough to navigate and although you probably would've been easier to communicate with, something always stopped him. Anytime your eyes met him, it scared him. He'd choke and realize he hadn't said anything for too long. Realize you'd probably have caught him staring and he was too quick to lose track of time when he'd look at you. 

He would always try to run into you. Maybe that day he would have the courage to ask you to grab a drink, but it would never be the day. He'd start over thinking. He had never seen you drink, would you even want to do that? What if it was a sensitive topic for you? Hours wasted going in circles over such a simple thing, if that was enough to over think with, the last two days were overwhelming. 

How could you possibly want him after what he did to those men, in front of you. Your head was so close to theirs. Did you imagine if he'd had missed and it happened to you? Your wide eyes from terror were burned into his head, he hoped the fear that radiated off of you was from the other men but…. It would be reasonable to be because of him. From all the gore he caused. He would just lose it sometimes, he didn't mean too but he did. It was always rewarded here but it couldn't have been the gentlemanly thing to do even within the circumstances. Was it? God what a long walk it had been to the hospital to visit you. He had to talk to you. If only it wasn't because of this. Asking you out for a drink felt so much more reasonable after all that. 

He had already been told your room number, quietly standing outside your hospital bedroom door. About to knock though it was slightly open. His eyes turned to look inside. 

He couldn't help but linger on you. How could anyone? Even after days of being asleep he thought you looked beautiful, your hair just messed up in the most charming way, your eyes closed and at peace. It took him a moment to realize your breathing and your hands. Your breathing was getting heavier and your fingers were circling more and more. His eyes widened. He shouldn't be looking, it was a complete invasion of privacy but it was his turn to freeze. 

God all he wanted to do was barge in and "fight" with you until that bed legs had broken but he couldn't. The right thing to do was leave but flight wouldn't work. He couldn't move his legs. All he could do was stare. Watch. Frozen. 

Your pace quickened. Over and over in your head hearing again and again. 

Don't

Ever

Touch 

Her 

And you let out a breath, so off in your own world before whimpering out his name. 

"Konig" 

His eyes widened as he fell forward through the door. If there was anything that was gonna make him move it would be hearing his name fall out of your lips while you touch yourself. The high is short lived though from the embarrassment he feels. Even through the small eye holes in his mask, you know he's flushed as he falls into your room and alarms you. 

You stop. 

You both stop. 

There's a pause in the air. 

A stillness. 

You're caught. 

He's seen you. He's seen you laying on bed spreading yourself and thinking of him inside you. He's heard you call out of his name while you play with your cunt. 

And he's caught. 

You've seen him watch you. How long was he at the door, staring in awe at you without your knowledge. You could call him a pervert or a voyeur all you wanted. it would be in your right too but why bother? 

Why would either of you deny when you're both so clearly on the same page? 

"I'm so-" he starts 

"Konig" you cut off 

Everytime he hears his name uttered from your mouth he's frozen. 

Beat. 

You haven't moved your hand. 

He looks you up and down 

"Do you want me?" You ask with big doe eyes and your lips slightly hung open, as if they’re just a little too heavy to close

"I– I, uh" he starts, not knowing where to go 

You move your hand. The embarrassment washes over your face. He was just surprised, probably laughing at you under his breath. You cover up. 

"Nevermind, that was stupid of me" you say looking down 

"No, no it wasn't! I just-" he stutters 

You look at him, with a confused intention on your face 

"You scare me" he finally coughs out 

Beat. 

"What?" You're even more confused

"You're, really intimidating" he utters 

"Konig, you destroyed every man like they were made of paper." You state, "how am I the intimidating one?" 

"I'm sorry for that" he says without looking at you 

"Why?" You ask

Now it's his turn to be confused. 

"I just, lost control, thinking of you, hurt" he says scratching at his head through his cloth mask. 

"You saved me" you say again, stating facts. 

"Did I, scare you?" He ask, unable to look at you 

"No, should I be scared?" You ask 

"No" he says, finally looking you dead in the eyes "I don't, ever want to hurt you" 

The eye contact sits in the air for a minute. 

You move your hands slowly back down, your knees curl up as the blankets fall off your legs 

"You can try," you say, looking down and back up at him. He's so shy, and scared. You have to make it clear to him. Almost hit him on the head with a shovel to make him realize how much consent he has. How much you want him. How much you want your guard dog. 

His chest is breathing heavily. 

He takes one slow step forward as his arm shuts the door. With a flick of his wrist it's slammed. There's another moment of silence before he exhales and takes another slow step towards you. 

He's trying to keep himself contained. 

His eyelids shut and you swear someone new is behind them. The half stare cuts into you, making your heart race. 

"You aren't scared of me?" He asks, sternly. 

"No." You say, shaking not from fear but pure excitement…. Well, maybe a little fear. 

"You should be mein liebling" falls out of his mouth as he undoes his belt. It's painful, could he go any slower? You think to yourself but it does feel more threatening. more intense as he tossed it aside and grabbed your ankles to pull you over the side of the hospital bed. You sit up, holding your back up with your arms as your legs open with him standing between them. 

“What does mein liebling mean?” You say staring at his lips 

His hand reaches up slowly to hold onto the side of your face while his thumb rests on your bottom lip, taking a second to strum it. 

“My darling” He answers 

Your mouth basically hangs open at this point. If you hadn’t soaked through your panties before, you had now. The precious moments before he would lose it on you, it made your body tingle. Like every section was lit up with goosebumps.

“Can I move your mask?” You ask softly

“You can do whatever you please” he says slowly, his eyes unable to look away from your lips. 

It takes you a moment to sit up. Leaning in closer, hooking your thumbs under the bottom of the cloth mask that drapes over his face. You look him in the eyes before slowly moving it up over his nose. His jawline exposed. The most you’ve ever seen of him in the months you’ve worked together. 

He licks his lips. 

You go to lean in but seconds before your lips can meet his, he interrupts 

“Just so you’re aware, once I start, I won’t stop with you” he says in a low breath

“Is that a threat?” You tease 

“Yes” he states. 

“You wouldn’t hurt your liebling?” 

“Never” he breathes as he leans in. He won’t kiss you, you’ll have to meet him here. Always“This flimsy bed doesn’t stand much of a chance, no?” 

You can’t wait any longer as you throw your head into a kiss, your lips press as hard as they can against his and both his hands grab the side of your head pushing  your kiss even closer. His body pushed right up against the hospital bed, he moves his hands from the side of your head to palm both your ass cheeks and drag you closer to him. 

He needs you, pressed up against him. His hands run around your back to the ties on the hospital gown but they’re done in such a way that untying will take off your nails and he didn’t have the patience for that. 

His mouth moved along the side of your neck, kissing and grazing the skin while your lashes fluttered and looked down. His hands went for his knife. Your eyes shake, you know he wouldn’t hurt you but you also can’t help but think how deadly he is with that thing, 

“Konig….” you say nervously

But just as quickly as it takes you to register what’s happening, the strings on your hospital gown are cut. He moves aside to rip the clothing off you before going back to kiss your neck and hum into your ear “No need to be scared mein liebling, remember?”

“Right”  you say, easing your own anxiety. You’d like to think your heart stops racing after this but it only gets faster. Tighter in your chest as he kisses down your body. Holding on  your breasts and kissing around your nipples, grabbing as tightly as possible onto your waist before making his way to your panties, cutting them in a swipe as well. You can’t stop starring as he spreads your legs apart and kisses between your thighs, closer and closer to your slit. Being sure to kiss between the knook on your thigh and pelvis. He slows down even more as he kisses over your pubis and down over your clit, not touching it just yet but squeezing tightly on your thighs as his arms wrap around them. Lightly breathing warm air your opening, watching you pulse and looking up at the sweat falling from your forehead and cum drunk expression hanging off your face before even considering diving in. 

“What do you want, Darling?” he coos with another breath hitting goosebump 

“I want you to taste me” you say as fast as you can, you can’t stand him dragging this out of you. 

He licks up the side of your thigh, over the knook connecting your pelvis, just beside your lips as his tongue curls in between your slits and runs along your clit. Just the tip grazes it over and over again, his tongue feels hard with how much pressure he’s put forward. Trying to contain himself but not being able to help himself much longer. 

His arms grip onto your thighs, just within his finger tips you can feel his strength. You know you’ll be smiling at the 5 bruises of each finger tip on your thighs tomorrow as he pulls you in closer and buries his tongue inside. Feeling the inside of your walls and lapping up as much as he can, wanting to taste everything. The lining of his upper teeth pushing against your clit and rubbing it up and down with each thrust of his head. Never letting the ends of them hit your most precious nerve. 

His hands move over to your waist, pulling you in even closer and his tongue even deeper. His hands had felt the bandage on your side and adjusted. He wasn’t kidding, he wouldn’t hurt you. The bed shakes a little from his adjustment, not even an ounce of his weight is on the bed and yet the wheels screech below you as he moves you around. 

You’re flushed, forehead and cheeks bright red and covered in sweat already looking down at him. Taking care of you. His eyelids open and slowly his gaze locks with yours as he laps you up slowly. 

“Konig, please, I can’t hold out like this” you manage to get out 

“Does it hurt you?” He asks, “To be this stimulated?” 

“In a way” you cough out, “I love it, I want more. I want all of you. I want what you were threatening me with” 

He pauses. Looking at you, not breaking your gaze. The cloth falls back over his face and he pushes it into his mouth to lap up your juices as he whips it across his mouth. 

Never break from your gaze. 

He stands up. 

Slowly. 

Looking down at you. 

He holds your face with both hands, making you look at him. As if your eyes ever moved. 

“You needed to be prepared first” he says as he undoes the button of his pants. You can see the bulge pressing forward already as they slide off. His boxers barely being able to hold him anymore as they finally come off and you see what was the most intimidating thing about him to date. Konig was a large man, to say the least and his proportions were, well, they made sense. You understood why you need to be prepped. You had never taken a cock this big, this long, with this much girth. 

He grabbed your waist and rolled the bed forward along with you, careful to avoid the wound. His cock between the folds of your slits gets wetter and wetter with each pull of the bed. His face practically next to yours, looking down at you. 

“Still not scared?” He asks 

“Now I might be” you admit, feeling how long he is as he glides you back and forth along it. Not quite entering yet 

“I would never hurt you” he explains, calmly 

“I think you might” you breath, looking down at him, still grazing you. Still lining himself with you. 

“We go at your pace, yeah?” he says, lining up the tip of his cock to the entrance of your slit. “Whatever you please”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself in, just the head moving yourself with the hospital bed. He stops the bed with his hands to make sure he doesn’t press in any farther. 

“I want more” you cough out in a sweat 

He holds your eyes and pulls the bed a little closer. You cry out. 

“Fuck” 

“More?” he asks 

You catch your breath, “yes”

“As you wish” he coos as he pulls the bed again, along with your body more deeply. You cry out again. 

“Shit that’s deep” you whine 

He snickers. 

“What?” you ask

“I still have more to give…” 

“Hurt me” you say 

He moves his nose to joust with yours. 

“Oh mein pet, I don’t wa–” 

“My pace, remember?” 

There’s a pause. He looks you up and down. 

“Once I start, I won’t stop. Remember?” he says sternly 

“Bracing myself” you say, grabbing onto his neck and bringing your body close. 

He wraps an arm around your body while the other absorbs the weight on the bed as he pulls you in as deep as he can go. Your mouth falls open but no words come out, it takes a minute for your cries to exit your body and then it takes a moment to bite down on his shoulder. He loves it, his body goes limp for half a second enjoying finally being fully inside you and the pressure your bite brings stiffens him back again. 

“Oh mein liebling, you’re so delicate” he whispers in your ear before pulling you off him and slowly, slowly bringing you back in again. “I did not prepare you enough, I can feel you stretch around me” 

He wasn’t kidding and it takes a few thrusts to finally adapt to him. He takes his time, slowly moving you back and forth, up and down on top of him. Your body holding onto him, nails digging into his back with each thrust until you can feel yourself relaxing. Enjoying every motion of his body. Each time he rocks you back and forth on his fat cock. 

“Don’t stop” you breath out

“I haven’t started” he says 

You don’t have the energy to muster saying anything else, only showing him with your body as you brace yourself again against him. He can feel the edges of your teeth lining up with his trap muscle and he knows you’re craving more. 

“Hurt me” You cough out 

He smiles under his mask for a brief moment before laying into you. Grabbing a hold of your waist with his arm as tightly as he can, leaning his weight into the bed with his other. He pulls you in as hard as he can and as fast as he can. You feel like a toy being thrown around, as if you weigh nothing with how fast he can throw your body onto his. Pushing deeper and deeper. He grunted with each thrust, 

“Fuck, you’re so much tighter than I imagined” he whimpers as he thrusts into you, the wheels of the bed screeching beneath you. The ferocity shakes them, damaging them. The bottom layer or the wheels has surely been ripped off with how hard he was fucking you on that fragile hospital bed. 

“Is that why you could never look at me?” You exude through breaths as he pulls back before driving his cock back into you. “You’re busy thinking of what I’d feel like?” 

“And what your pretty eyes would look like whist you cum” He sings, “among other things” 

“Tell me” 

“Now all my mind will be able to think about is you touching yourself while thinking of me” 

“I hope that’s burned into your brain the way your words are etched into mine” You whimper 

“Which ones?” He asks “Mein Liebling?" 

“That’s a new personal favourite for sure,” You catch your breath in between each time he plows into you. You need a minute again though, to bite into his trap muscle. 

He exclaims, your bites kill him. 

“What you said, on the mission” you manage to get out. “While you obliterated those men” 

He pulls you in again and again. 

“I don’t remember what I said, I’m sorry my darling” he grunts. “I was in a bit of a rage” 

He pushes through, leaning even more into the bed frame. 

“You said” you’re cut off by each thrust 

“Don’t” 

Thrust 

“Ever” 

Again

“Touch”

Again

“Her” 

The bed breaks underneath you both. The legs not being able to sustain his weight, especially with how much he’s leaned into it. Just as you recognize the bed has broken out from under you, he catches you with his arm. You only feel the gravity affect you for a second before he’s got you and you wrap your legs around his waist as he pins you to the wall. 

“No one does get to touch you” he says as he pins you there, 

“No one huh?” You tease 

He plows into you 

“You get to touch me, I always want you touch me” You whimper into his ear 

His pace doesn’t change, he keeps the same. Keep it consistent as you edge closer and closer though he might not be able to hold out much longer. All the nights he stayed up thinking about you, finally being able to bury himself inside you. Having you practically begging him for it, wanting him. Konig only ever felt wanted from the violence he could implore. Never for this. It was destroying him. You scared him. 

“Tell me” he says under his breath 

“Tell you what? That I crave your touch?” you exhale 

“Tell me you want me” he thrusts again and again, 

You catch your breath before meeting his request. 

“I want you Konig” you cry “I’ve wanted you since we met.. I think about you every night, everytime I touch myself my mind wanders back to you.” 

“Fuck, I’m so close” he grunts. 

You were too and with his fingers tightening into your skin with each line you said, you wouldn’t be far behind him. Your body had been lit up and overstimulated for so long, you were surprised you had made it this far at all. 

“I want you Konig” You scream “I want you, I want you so badly. I want you…”

“Every” 

He pushes 

“Single” 

Thrusts again 

“Night” 

Again

“No one” 

He pulls your whole body in

“Can touch me” 

Again

“But you”

It’s enough to send you both over the edge, your stomach lights up from the orgasm finally not being able to be held back. No amount of bracing could stop you from finishing all over his cock and he had to let go and fill you with every ounce of cum he had. His legs were weak, not even necessarily the work out but hearing you call to him like that. Would make any man weak in the knees as he kept you pushed up against the wall. 

Your body took so long to stop twitching, you could feel each vein going off and pulsing on his cock, hitting your walls as he took a moment. Allowing every drop to meet your walls before finally being able to look at you. He held you in place while slowly, very very slowly pulling out but the shaft of his cock ran along your clit and sent jolts through your body which he held you for. You had never been so stimulated, it would take so long to calm down. 

He didn’t drop you, which surprised you. Kept you there while you finished shaking before wrapping you up and laying you both on the broken bed on the floor. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Catching your breath was so difficult. 

“You’re very beautiful. I would uh, day dream. About your smile, just as much as uh–” he stuttered “this.” 

You roll over on top of him. Still breathing heavily. 

“I meant what I said for the record” you coo at him, “I want you” 

“I meant what I said too” he couches 

“Which part?” you ask calmly, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk this much” 

He chuckles “That you scare me” 

Dante Nyhpmir Masterlist

[careful-pyromancer]

The Pyro Cinematic Universe 2.0!

Hello hello!! I think it's time to re-introduce my WIPS as a LOT has changed! (there will be a more in-depth introduction when the time comes to it)

Chronicles of Avalon:

Chasing Crevices: includes a vampiric deer boy, a zombie who can't die for no more than 5 minutes, a possessed queen, a cult leader, a 7 foot tall snake faerie, an omnipresent mother, a 2 for 1 combo in a faerie and his demon brother//The Gods are being...Weird. Castien finds himself in a maze of a cult when his aunt owes a debt to them. His mother and fathers are not going to be happy with him. Or his brothers, Jami and Kit, who are determined to find out where and when the Gods are rumored to rise from. //ok this one is absolutely bat shit crazy BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH I'M FINALLY PROUD OF THIS PLOT...there's also a whole thing with castien and his "best friend / partner in crime " Wednesday and it very quickly turns into a gay vampire thing...y'know cause the gods will it....(it's me I'm the gods),,also everything is not as it seems ;)))))))))

Lab Rat: including: the world's angriest tests subject (402), a very scared ghost living in a computer (001), a half flesh half machine spider lady (777), and a woman who happened to be the right place at the right time // 402 is determined to become more than a pawn in some great search for science. She will rip the secrets from these walls if it means she will be freed. Unfortunately, this knowledge comes with a heavy price, including making some enemies in her own facility. If 402 proves herself, she could earn the favor of the researchers and become stronger. if she can play the long game, could she finally see the outside world? // OKAY OKAY I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH it has liminal horror vibes and a really spooky vibe, I like the oppressive nature of the lab and her initial ideas of the outside world are....fantastical LMAO. It also has a lesbian romance !!

Sparrow's Flight: including a non-binary lead that needs to know what happened, faerie sisters who are the manifestation of winter, ghosts!, a demon who can't believe she has to spend her time protecting faerie brats, a transgender boy who needs to compile evidence of the paranormal, and a boy haunted by an unknown entity // Sparrow needs to know what happened to their mother. If that includes provoking demons, so be it. Their girlfriend, Lorelei is eager to help solve a mystery. This drags in Lorelei's older sister, Adelaide, and Jasmine, the demon bound to the family. Sparrow is accompanied by their best friend, Pallas, who is desperate for a safe space and willing to be the only one keeping track of things, and the new kid, Jedediah, who would rather die than be at home // this one takes place in Ohio and I fucking *LOVE* it....it's such a love letter to my own life and rural queer communities MWAH MWAH MWAH I love you all so much,,,,,also I enjoy complaining about the midwest.....

Resisting the Knife: including Noxys, chosen by the Goddess of Nature and PISSED at the Queen of Haren Aethal, Gwyneira (the queen of Haren Aethal) who is desperate to undo her family's bloody and oppressive legacy, a faerie spy, and Noxys' old partner in crime who can't read but is somehow the Queen's handmaid, and a mysterious man in the woods// Noxys needs to get revenge for the Wraiths burning down her village. She was forced into the cold at a young age due to the orphanages not willing to risk angering the royal family. Noxys has figured out that alchemy can solve almost any problem, so why not try to show the true nature of a blood thirsty beast? Yep. She's gonna turn the queen into a vampire. Surely this will go well and have no negative consequences whatsoever (it does). // i absolutely love this story it has such a fun cast and it's always fun to write a little enemies to lovers........

The Day We Disappeared: including a ghost who doesn't know she's a ghost, a poltergeist, a vengeful spirit, and a witch in the woods who doesn't want kids (but secretly does)// Lucy and older siblings are taken in by a witch interested in studying their paranormal abilities. Little does Lucy know, but she's dead. The elder sister, Okiku, is hoping there is a way for Lucy to realize that is not too damaging on her little psyche. Wolfgang, the elder (but younger than Okiku) is ready to provide a distraction so Saoirse (the witch in the woods) can try and figure out something about ghosts that may help//okay I love cozy horror and this is also a murder mystery bc the person who murdered Lucy also had a hand in Wolfgang and Okiku's deaths too oohoohooohoo......

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[zeglythofficial]

tarot red here. i did another reading, questions asked: does T feel romantic attraction for R? and an update of his current feelings.

okay, T isn’t hard to read at all. i got a yes, totally. but well, let me explain what i see here. i got the two of cups (for me the best card to get when it comes to feelings and love) T believes he has a great connection with R, they really get each other, they really support each other. i think T is actually facing what he feels and he’s making a change and moving on from the denial energy he had in the past. so he might be even making an effort to get closer to her, to be more in communication. i see changes here when it comes to his feelings, he’s being honest and trying to not be avoidant. i think T feels romantic, physical and mental attraction towards R. he sees her as the queen of cups as i mention in the past, this queen is sweet, giving, caring, supportive. he might like having deep conversations with her were he can share his feelings and be vulnerable (which i don’t think he like that often). no inhibitions, he can be the real him. but he also sees her as very earthy, she’s loyal and he thinks he can build something stable with her, she’s serious about what she says, she’s pragmatic. but she also has this childlike personality that’s very contagious, she really lifts him up when he’s feeling down. he likes these qualities and might think is perfect for a relationship. but he also feels good chemistry, he thinks there’s a certain sexual tension there or he thinks they can have good intimacy. i think he also sees R as provocative in a sense, like she likes instigating stuff. R might be very combative, she fights for what she wants and for what she thinks. even if i see him maybe trying to change he has very bad habits and this relates more to him running away from his feelings. i see him maybe falling in those bad habits so maybe he might try to ghost her, cut contact, act cold. because this feelings are weird for him. i see the denial coming back. but the feelings still there and maybe even stronger than ever. he can see a stable relationship with R in the future, he feels that they complement each other. but well, to his point of view the feelings are unrequited so this might be why he struggles, if he does too much even the friendship can end.

for his current feelings. i think for now they’re okay, i saw it on her reading and i see it here too. positive energy. fun, lighthearted. but for him the only difference i see is strong feelings (with the two of cups again). i think for now they might be in contact. a lot of support here i don’t know if R wish him luck in something he’s working in or congratulated him about something. i think T has really strong feelings and he’s having problems controlling them so this is when he backs out and starts being avoidant. but for now i don’t see that, he’s just giving in. also T appreciates their friendship a lot so i think this is why he’s struggling a bit, but for now he’s not overthinking about it. i got the lovers card so this is making a decision too, i think he’s just deciding to keep this secretly so i don’t think he will say something about what he feels. i think that T wants commitment with R but he has bad habits and other priorities for now so he will keep this friendship like it is now. he’s working in his success and sees more convenient to keep this as a friendship, he’s scared of messing up this and also get his ego hurt (lol)

that’s all i see for now. remember that readings are for entertainment purposes only <3

You’re definitely entertaining us, Red! Thank you!

1. I think he’s avoidant of his feelings because he doesn’t want a serious committed relationship for now (hence why he’s with BB)

2. R is in a very serious relationship with J and he sees that so he might act cold because he doesn’t think she likes him back. As you said, R is very loyal so she’s definitely not playing games in terms of cheating and drawing boundaries. And I hate to say it, but men respect women who draw strong boundaries and don’t let them get away with stuff. Men know when they’re serious about a woman or not.

3. We’ve seen how R acts when she spirals so yeah, she might be combative and doesn’t tolerate ghosting or lack of communication. He has to be OK with friendship for now because R isn’t ready and neither is he imo.

4. It’s hard to be friends with someone who has an attraction to. You want to remain in their life but it’s painful witnessing them be with someone else or have unrequited feelings.

5. And good! He should be scared of messing up his dream girl and getting his ego hurt! Time to clean up these bad habits.

[entamewitchlulu]

did i just spend an afternoon making up fankids for the katacule? maybe. you can find out if you click on the read more

so ok. my personal canon for post-series is that the polycule all stays together though they do have some beard marriages between them for appearances - it's pretty much an open secret to the entire kingdom tho that they're all together. and who's going to say anything about it when they're the most powerful people in the kingdom (and particularly jeord will silence anyone who tries to get between them with prejudice).

So anyway, the ""official"" appearance marriages are:

Katarina/Jeord

Keith/Sophia

Maria/Nicol

Alan/Mary

and Sora and Raphael just kinda chill as eternal bachelors

But despite this they are all having their own interactions with each other and romances all across all the "pairings". Some of them are platonic with each other, some are romantic, and etc. Anyway this results in an awful lot of kiddos, and if they're completely honest they don't always know who the dad is so the plan they come up with is that whoever's the mom, their ""official"" husband will just claim them for inheritance purposes, but they're ALL the moms and dads for all these kids. for that reason i'm not gonna say straight up who the parents of these kids are but you can probably make some guesses based on their appearances/magic, etc.

Sylvia Ascart (left) is the oldest. She's 18 and she's hard-working, cheerful, and flexible. She wants to be the best she can be, but she doesn't mind chilling out once in a while. Her dream is to succeed Nicol as the prime minister, and her magic type is Light.

Amelia Ascart (right), is 17. She's quiet, thoughtful, and has a talent for memorizing books she's read. Her only real goal in life is to be surrounded by books. Her magic type is Wind.

Colette (left) and Felix Stuart (right) are twins, both 17 years old. They both have water magic. Colette is a little antisocial, preferring to spend time with horses rather than people, but due to her quiet nature, she tends to overhear a lot and knows dirt on almost everyone. Her brother is very ambitious, and wants to succeed the throne. He's irritatingly smug and smart and loves to talk circles around people.

Next is Ethan Stuart (left). He's 16 and his magic type is fire. He is a sweet, sort of shy young man who loves cats and is very genuine. He's scared of ghosts and bad at swordsmanship, and prefers to spend time with Mary in the garden.

Silas Claes (middle) is 15. His magic type is Earth, and as the only official son of Keith, he's intended to succeed as the Duke Claes. He has the appearance of an incredibly sweet young man who looks younger than he is, and he loves sweets and mischief. His favorite thing to do is to lull people into believing he's a perfect angel who could do no wrong while he's actually pranking or manipulating the shit out of you.

Adeline Ascart (right) is 15 and her magic type is Light. She is a sweet, optimistic to a fault girl who loves sewing and cute things, though she's afraid of horses and flustered in crowds. She has a talent for making plushies, and wants to join the Ministry of Magic.

Victoria (left) and Noelle Stuart (right) are also twins and are 15 years old. Both have Earth magic. Like Nicol, Victoria has the same alluring aura that flusters almost everyone around her. However, she finds it tiresome, and is most exhausted of getting marriage proposals from people, as she wishes not to get married. However, she is quietly rather ambitious, and wants to succeed the throne. She's very protective of Noelle.

Noelle is shy and very attached to Victoria, and hates crowds. She has a talent for music and likes to spend time playing piano with Alan when she's not with Victoria.

Charlotte Stuart is 14 and also musically inclined, liking to play the cello. She and Noelle sometimes play together. She's kind, but is no doormat, quick to stand up for herself and her siblings even against people stronger or more influential than her. Her magic type is Water.

Miku (left) and Aoi (right) Stuart are another set of twins, age 13. Miku has fire magic, and Aoi has earth.

Miku has Katarina's inability to stay still and a deep wanderlust. She loves climbing anything she can find, hates dresses, and wants to be an adventurer.

Aoi is nearly as adventurous as his sister, but he's more interested in trying new foods. He likes to cook but even more than that he likes to try exotic dishes and will eat just about anything. He struggles to keep his clothes clean, but he's so lovable that he can make friends wherever he goes.

Peony (left) and Poppy (right) Ascart are the last set of twins, age 12. Peony has Light magic and Poppy has fire. Peony is a bit on the lazy side; she likes to nap wherever she can. She's actually quite responsible and gets things done, but then she'd just like to doze off under a tree. Poppy is an budding artist who likes to spend time painting landscapes. She's laid-back, but will snap easily if interrupted while painting.

Then there's the two youngest! Darian Stuart is 10 and has water magic. He loves swordplay and wants to be a heroic swordsman. Despite his desire to be a hero, he's still quite young and cries easily.

Penelope Stuart is 9 and has earth magic. She's exuberant, adventurous, and loooooves bugs. She's pretty loud and hyper and loves to grab big beetles and show them to everyone.

Generally speaking, the "official" families are as follows:

Katarina/Jeord: Ethan, Victoria, Noelle, Miku, Aoi, Darian, Penelope

Ethan is considered the Fifth Prince, as he's the second eldest of Jeord and Alan's kids, and Jeord and Alan's brothers have three sons between them (idk about them yet). Atm I think Ian is king so his son(s) are first in line, but I haven't really decided that. Victoria is the Third Princess, after Colette.

Keith/Sophia: Silas. He's their only "official" kid, so he's the heir to the Dukedom.

Maria/Nicol: Sylvia, Amelia, Adeline, Peony, Poppy

Alan/Mary: Colette, Felix, Charlotte. Felix is considered the Fourth Prince.

Andddd that's it lol. I have no other thoughts at the moment.

[lozeyart]

Pouncoffelees HCs!!

Alright I’m finally writing up some of my Pouncoffelees HCs

To start, I HC that Misto and Pounce have known each other for awhile, since they were kittens.

(Read more because OOF this got away from me so fast)

Pounce grew up in the countryside, in a small little country house with his humans. He roamed about in the fields a bunch, being an adorable pest.

Then one day, more humans visit and they bring another kitten with them, a black and white cat named Mistoffelees. Though Misto comes off shy at first, he quickly warms up to Pounce and they become extremely close friends. Running around the fields together, catching bugs and trying to catch birds and other things, but they’re still too small to be able to do so.

So a couple years go by like this. Misto visits with his humans occasionally, stays for about a week, and then goes back home to the city. Misto also tells Pounce about this tribe, about the Jellicle Cats, about how amazing everyone is. And every time Misto goes back to the city, Pounce and him try and make the most of his last day. They miss each other desperately while they’re apart.

Finally, one of the humans in Pounce’s household moves out to the city, to live by Misto’s humans, and they take Pounce with them. Luckily for Pounce, he has a cousin who lives in the city, Tumblebrutus, and he’s a part of the Jellicle tribe also! So Tumble and Misto introduce him to the tribe, and he’s immediately welcomed in.

A few more years go by and Misto and Pounce are still thick as thieves.

And then one day, while Pounce and Misto are hanging out, as they always do, Pounce looks at Misto, and he’s just practicing his magic, smiling to himself, and Pounce suddenly realizes, “Oh-” He has feelings for him, he’s had them for awhile, but this little mundane thing, a thing Misto does often, made him think “I want to hold those hands. I want to kiss his knuckles.”

And he panics. He’s not supposed to get feelings for Misto. Thats his best friend right there, what is he going to do? He can’t tell him, because obviously Misto doesn’t feel the same way. It’ll ruin their years long friendship! Theres absolutely no fuckin’ way he will ever tell Misto how he feels.

But his feelings grow stronger by the day. He would very much like to kiss Misto, run his fingers through his hair, play with his tail, hold those hands in his. He can’t stop thinking about Misto. Oh Everlasting, he’s in deep.

So then he starts avoiding Misto, because he doesn’t know what else to do. And this breaks Misto’s heart. He doesn’t understand why his best friend is avoiding him. He keeps seeking Pounce out, but Pounce always finds a convenient excuse to not be around Misto. Fine, Misto thinks, he got the hint. Pounce doesn’t want to be his friend anymore.

And then the annual Jellicle Ball happens. And its awkward. Pounce can’t stand it anymore, he’s missed Misto like crazy, he’s been driving himself mad with how much he thinks about him. He feels incredibly guilty over how he basically ghosted Misto, and now at this ball, he aims to fix it.

And finally, after another scare that Macavity might show up, the ball starts, and Pounce decides, “Here, I’ll talk to him here.”

There’s a part of the dance where Tumblebrutus usually dances with Misto, but before that is close to happening, Pounce pulls Tumble to the side and begs him to let him take his place. Tumble is like ???? Why??? And Pounce goes, “Please just let me take your place. I know the number, I need to dance with Misto, you have to understand.” There’s a long hhhmmm from Tumble and Pounce groans, “Fine! You can have all the treats my humans give me for the next month. Just please let me take your spot!”

“It’s a deal!” Tumble says, and they shake on it.

And the SHOCK on Misto’s face when he realizes that its not going to be Tumble that’s dancing with him, but Pouncival. But Misto isn’t going to let this little surprise mess him up. He does the dance with him, he does it perfectly, and the part where they have to hold hands? Fine, whatever, Misto will do that too, and get over it later.

And when that happens, Pounce squeezes Misto’s hand a bit too tight, and Misto knows. He knows Pounce is sorry, he knows he’ll never do it again, he knows how he feels. And after their part together, they run off for the few minutes they have before the next part of the ball starts, and Pounce is panting, and he’s still holding Misto’s hand. It’s almost like he forgot he was holding it.

He’s rambling. Pounce is apologizing because he needs Misto to know how sorry he is. And in a rush of words, he confesses. He tells Misto how much he loves him, and he got scared, and he just needed to finally tell him, even if it will ruin their friendship. And all of this stops when Misto brings his free hand up to caress Pounce’s cheek, his thumb idly stroking it, and he smiles, and they kiss.

Not rushed and heated, not searing. Its soft, and slow, and Pounce is rigid with tension, because he was not expecting this, but then he just melts into the kiss, and he’s smiling against Misto’s lips. Misto pulls back, and they smile and press their foreheads together, and Misto sighs, “I love you too, you fucking idiot.”

And when Plato and Victoria are courting each other, Misto and Pounce are cuddling on the ground, arms draped over each other, smiling like idiots.

[notmorbid]

tears of the trufflepig.

dialogue prompts from tears of the trufflepig by fernando a. flores.

i've learned not to curse god for my problems.

nature finds ways to fight back.

hospitals and me? never again.

when it's my time, i will go standing up.

i can tell you wouldn't hurt a fly.

do i sound pessimistic? i don't mean to be.

to say 'mastermind' would be a compliment.

i've been dancing around all day trying to get hold of you.

i'm getting to know the city again.

i haven't been here in a long time, remember?

is it safe to be talking?

souls can't be manufactured, but they can be replaced.

i'm not as young as i once was.

i won't be scared anymore.

let them come again so they can see i'm not scared.

let me brew you a cup of tea so i can read your leaves. or do you prefer coffee?

between us, i am a believer in people.

maybe i believe in people too much.

to be honest, i don't think about your life outside of here at all.

haven't you wondered how i know your name?

you must be very trusting of people.

i'm not looking to get anyone in trouble.

what is it you don't understand? i can explain it to you.

i don't know what sorry means anymore.

am i a ghost? i think that i am.

we didn't know the weight of what we did.

warnings back then were just lies folks told.

don't look so worried.

i ran into some trouble in life.

you're the only family i have left.

we will grow stronger from all of this.

pluto isn't a planet anymore. is that weird to you?

you don't even look that old.

sorry. i shouldn't say things like that out loud.

i want to be real with you now.

your story has to be told, too.

you're going to have to learn to have some trust.

my soul can't be reversed now. look at me.

the undertaker also has mouths to feed.

[pokemon-researcher-corvid]

Hello back from Johto! I've been reading your fixings of the Dex entries, and I have to say keep it up! I also wanted to ask if you've done much research into the Gastly line? They are my favorite Pokémon, and often horribly misunderstood. The Alolan dex entries for Gengar especially don't help this, as they lead into the stereotype that Gengar and its pre-evolutions are entirely malicious ghosts. I wanted to ask for your opinion on the matter! I hope you have a lovely day.

Hello! It’s good to hear from a fellow Johtonian! And a ghost-type enthusiast at that!

The Gastly line, poor things, are victims of the rumor mill to an extent I rarely encounter. Most of the data in the Pokédex is based on circumstantial evidence, hearsay, and old wives tales. I’m glad you brought this up because these Poison/Ghost Pokémon deserve some accurate publicity.

Gengar are very unique Pokémon. They mate for life, and have very tightly knit family units that all fulfill roles in keeping the pack healthy, safe, and fed. Usually these family units consist of 5-7 Pokémon, but it’s not unheard of for these groups to be larger or smaller. Usually, the leader of the group is a Haunter or Gengar, who is responsible for organizing and protecting the pack. All of the “evil” behaviors that Gengar and it’s pre-evolutions exhibit are simply erroneous interpretations of Gengar’s pack-managing behaviors.

For example, Gengar are known to play pranks on people and Pokémon alike. Stealing Items, hiding in shadows, stealing heat, taking food, etc…

These are all socialization and child-raising techniques for young Gastly! Hiding food and objects is an enrichment activity for Gastly. It encourages them to use their senses to find hidden things and hone navigation and motor skills (it’s true that Gastly often struggle to move properly, especially in high winds)! Stealing heat to give to young Gastly is another parental behavior. Heat allows gas to expand as the particles move faster and get further apart. Since Gastly are over 95% gas, they need heat to help them grow stronger and larger! Hiding in shadows is again, a technique to allow Gastly to move about with less danger of being blown off-course by wind, or being attacked by other nocturnal pokemon (specifically Ghost and Dark types, both of which pose a threat to these Pokémon).

Before moving on to the explanation of curses and ‘life-force-stealing’ I need to address Haunter. Haunter’s current Pokédex entries are some of the most biased and inaccurate I’ve seen in my career, and I’ve submitted multiple appeals to various regional Dex committees about getting the inaccuracies removed.

“If you get the feeling of being watched in darkness when nobody is around, Haunter is there.”

“Because of its ability to slip through block walls, it is said to be from another dimension.”

“If you trip and fall for no apparent reason or hear a sound when no one is around, it may be a Haunter.”

“According to rumor, victims of a Haunter's lick will wither to death day by day.”

Please notice how all of these entries are baseless claims, purely conjecture and rumor with no supporting evidence, no testing, and no citations. I have personally worked with (and been licked by!) a Haunter and I am still alive and well.

Anyways, returning to Gengar! Now, it is true that Gengar are capable of bestowing curses and harming other Pokémon. They are fiercely defensive of their family units and take great care to keep their children and siblings safe. However, this is the only scenario where Gengar are likely to lash out and attack. Similar to Ninetails, Gengar uses curses in self defense almost exclusively. As a Pokémon researcher, me and many teammates have had to get creative when observing Gengar and their families in the wild because we were encroaching on their space. Gengar will try to scare potential threats away from their nests long before they get aggressive.

Long story short, Gengar’s evolutionary line are composed of very tight-knit family communities who have specific behaviors for training and child-rearing that have been misconstrued as aggression only because people have threatened the territories of these ghost types.