#and have to keep dragging themselves forward. for duty. a sense of goodness. despite the most horrible things you can imagine

[rainbows-fanfics]

Our Nightmare (Chapter 13)

Summary: Sally moves in with the man of her screams. But there  is still so much she has to learn of Halloween Town, and what it’s like  living with The Pumpkin King.

A sequel to Two Dearest Friends,  where the Christmas incident never happens. But there are still many  ends that haven’t been met, and much for these two dreamers to learn as  they start to spend their deaths together.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally, Dr Finklestein/Jewel

–

Note: This is a SEQUEL to my other story, TWO DEAREST FRIENDS. To read the original story, go here.

–

It is early in the morning when the crowing of a skeletal rooster makes it into Jack’s bedroom. The Pumpkin King throws his pillow over his skull in an attempt to deafen the noise. A few seconds pass before a bright light begins to seep into the room, as the pumpkin sun rises slowly in the sky outside. The skeleton groans when it hits his eye sockets. He mentally swears at himself for forgetting to close the curtains last night, and aggravatingly turns on his other side to avoid the window. His eyes snap open when he finds a face only a few inches away from his own.

  Sally…

His frame freezes at the sight, finding himself in some sort of trance. His gaze is locked on her closed eyes, her slightly parted lips, and her breathing figure moving and falling by the second. It doesn’t take long before a smile grows on his stitched lips. He remembers all about last night. His proposal to move his girlfriend into his room...rightfully sharing a bed together as soon as they could. He remembers sleeping so peacefully throughout the night. He carefully brings a hand forward and moves the fallen strands of hair from her face. This notion catches her attention and her eyes slowly flutter open.

“Good morning, my dear.” He greets softly, cradling her face in one of his large hands. She looks surprised before relaxing her shoulders.

“Good morning…”

The air around them is entirely peaceful. She recalls feeling like this on her first morning in the Skellington Manor. Except now she has the pleasure of waking up right next to her skeleton man. He leans towards her and leaves a kiss on her lips, brushing her hair to the side before sitting up in bed. She follows his movements and lets out a small yawn. He notices this and tilts his skull.

"You can sleep in if you'd like."

She shakes her head. She already feels well-rested. "No, it's alright."

She leaves a kiss on his cheek before they hear something stirring in the room. Zero shakes his head from his doggy bed before peering around the bedroom. He levitates from the surface and meets with the eyes of his master and Sally. The ghost dog joins them and nuzzles both of their sides excitedly.

Jack chuckles as he pats his small head. "Good morning to you, Zero!"

Some more movement comes from the floor before a small, black figure jumps onto the edge of the bed. Ophelia tiredly blinks her yellow eyes at the figures, running along the blankets to meet with her owner. Sally coos when the feline jumps into her lap and nestles into her arm. What a wonderful way to start the morning!

"Good morning, Ophelia.."

The Pumpkin King takes this time to leave the bed and approach the windows, fully moving the curtains so the sun completely envelops the room. He moves to his dresser and searches around in his drawers for his clothes. The other figures watch him intently from the bed. Sally rubs her eyes as she adjusts to the light in the room.

"Did you sleep well, dearest?" The skeleton asks, pulling her from her thoughts.

She nods. "Just terrible!"

"I'm glad to hear it. I wanted our first night together to be perfectly unpleasant!"

He moves behind the screen to start dressing himself. He hears his beloved leave the bed after a few minutes and passes right through the door. The pitter-patters of her cat follow behind, and he can hear Zero's tag chiming down the stairs. It's only when he's fully dressed when the familiar sound of sizzling comes from the kitchen. She must be making breakfast already!

He grins to himself, elated with everything so far. This was the right decision to make after all this time. He'll have to spend the rest of the morning moving her things from her room and properly making his space into  theirs . He’s already cleared plenty of time in his schedule to do it. He's more than excited by the time he rushes down the stairs to meet with Sally, kissing her neck once or twice while she stands over the stove cooking the food.

The sound of her giggles brings a new delight to his bones.

. . .  

The nights go on, as do the mornings. They've moved past what happened on Halloween night. In fact, the subject never comes up again as the two get more comfortable. Jack's favorite part, albeit self-indulgent, are the mornings he spends waking up next to  her . He finds he rises even earlier than usual just to watch her form next to his - sleeping so peacefully, auburn hair messily strewn over her face and the pillows, looking like the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his death. He listens to her small breaths in this time until she eventually wakes, and then he greets her with a kiss.

As the weeks pass, the skeleton and ragdoll start noticing each other's habits. While she sleeps, he finds she makes the tiniest of snores on some nights, almost virtually unnoticeable if it hadn't been for his keen sense of hearing. She will, in return, find the King overworking himself most nights, cooping himself up in his study while he reads or experiments. She has to drag him to bed every time this happens, sweetly reminding him to get his rest and that it's time to go to bed together.

He never resists. He feels like he's in some sort of Heaven as his angel leads him temptingly to their bedroom with a tight pull on his wrist. He sighs in bliss every time it happens.  Things truly couldn't be better. 

----

It is a quiet afternoon when Sally Finklestein sweeps around the entrance of her sewing shop. It is the usual time she takes a break and temporarily closes her business until she returns. She normally spends this time either in the plaza or the Town Hall, where she meets with Jack during his own lunch break. The two usually eat together and catch up at this time, before having to return to their responsibilities for the rest of the day.

She plans to meet with him and talk over a modest meal she packed for both of them this morning. She returns her broom inside and locks the front door of the shop with a hum. She eagerly turns on her heel and is about to begin her way until she is interrupted by the sound of laughter. It isn't a normal, childish one - rather, a collection of shrieks  that sound from across the street. It is accompanied by the sound of running feet. She assumes it's from the Town children playing together as they usually do around this time, and continues on her way like normal.

The laughter continues until she stumbles upon the source of the noise. The sight makes her stop completely in her tracks. It is coming from three children she's never seen in Town before...she marvels at their bright clothing. They look exactly like the trick-or-treaters she’s seen in the human world - dressed in costume from head-to-toe. There is one young girl and two little boys - the girl is dressed as a purple witch, with a tall hat, stringy black hair, and a long green mask. One of the boys seems to be a skeleton, who has stubby green hair, a round face, and only three pointy fingers and toes on his hands and feet. He wears a circular mask sporting a wide, toothy grin. The last boy looks to be a devil, with his hair gelled upwards to represent small horns, and a long red mask situated over his tall face, as a pointy tail flickers from his pants.

The three are currently standing in front of other children, except these are ones Sally recognizes from Town. There is the mummy boy - a child wrapped entirely in paper whom she knows loves to help the Mayor with his duties, a small winged demon with large black wings, and the corpse couple’s kid, Ethan. There is a look of terror on their faces as the trick-or-treaters stand before them, attempting to hide their bags behind their small figures. She notices they’re filled with many colorful wrappers, which she assumes must be candy.

The small witch steps forward, batting her broom on the ground in warning. “Give it to us! We know you’re hiding it!”

Ethan narrows his stitched eyes. He is among the few residents that happen to be blind. “Who says we have to give it to you!? Aren’t you supposed to EARN your own candy?”

“Push off!” The devil warns as he steps forward. “You owe us for helping you last Halloween! Give us the candy!”

“HELP? You got all of us in trouble for that trick you played last year!” The mummy boy joins in. “We don’t want anything to do with you bullies!”

“ ‘Bullies..’ ?” The skeleton kid snickers from behind.

The trick-or-treaters exchange a glance. Despite their masks concealing most of their faces, it is clear that there is mischief in their gaze. The other children loudly gulp and begin to back away as the taller figures step forward threateningly. It is at this point Sally realizes something is about to go badly. The three suddenly take the masks off of their faces, revealing almost identical expressions underneath.

“It seems like we have to remind you of who we exactly  are ..!” The girl giggles menacingly.

The other figures nod in agreement before joining her side. This is when they completely advance on the Halloween Town children, cornering them until they have no more space to go. Then they arrange themselves in a line, with the devil coming first while the witch and skeleton follow from behind. They momentarily hold the masks over their faces before dramatically lowering them.

  “Lock!” “Shock!” “Barrel!”  

The last member licks the lollipop in his hand greedily, eying the bags they are currently concealing from them. He nudges his fellow trick-or-treaters. “Say, I think I know where they’re keeping their candy..!”

“Oh? Where is it, Barrel?” Shock plays along.

“Hey! I think I see them, too!” Lock comes forward and points a finger behind them, making the small kids quiver in fear. “You’re hiding it behind your backs! That’s the oldest trick in the book! Our  book!”

“P...please…” The demon’s red eyes start to moisten with tears. “This is all we have..! Our parents would get mad if-”

“ Psh ! This is why we don’t have any parents! We work for the boogeyman, and he doesn’t have any of those lame rules..!” She snorts at them. Barrel nods in agreement.

“We take our job in pride...and the boss wants us to get him some extra candy! Which means you will have to give it to us. Don’t make us ask twice.”

Ethan sobs as they attempt to grab the bags from their hands. “ Stop !”

“Or  what ?” Lock pushes him. His large figure falls onto the floor harshly. “Are you gonna tattle on us?”

The other two cohorts shake their heads in disappointment. “You’d be really stupid to try that.”

Before they attempt to push them down any further, a feminine yell interrupts them. The kids jump in alarm as a tall woman approaches them with a displeased look on her face.

“You stop picking on those kids   right now  !”  

Lock, Shock, and Barrel freeze in their spots. The bags fall from their small hands as they turn around and find Sally Finklestein standing a few feet away from them. She has her hands clenched to her sides and her eyes firmly narrowed - completely upset at the scene she has just witnessed. In this silence, the mummy boy helps Ethan back to his feet and the hastily three collect their candy. Before the trick-or-treaters can do anything, they suddenly flee on the spot, running as far and quickly as they can. Shock lets out a frustrated groan at the sight before turning sharply to the older woman, pointing an accusing finger in her direction.

“Hey! What’s your problem, lady!?”

“Why are you treating those kids like that?” Sally implores with a frown. “You can’t bully them out of their candy! That is just...despicable!”

The three look at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter.  ‘Despicable ..?’ They guffaw right there on the floor, slamming their hands on their stomach amusingly. The ragdoll watches them with a confused look. Then she gets upset and steps even closer, wanting these mischievous children to understand how unacceptable their actions are. She points in the direction the others left in.

“I want you to go to them and apologize, right now!”

“Who do you think you are? Our mom?” The devil inquires sarcastically.

Shock laughs right with him while Barrel tilts his head at her tall figure. He suddenly tugs on his cohort’s sleeve and leans forward to whisper something. The surprised look on Lock’s face stops their laughter and he whispers another thing to Shock. The smile leaves her lips as she takes a small step forward.

“Wait..” She looks her up-and-down. “Do we  know you ?”

“ Know me..?” Sally repeats quietly. She thinks if she has ever seen these kids before in her life. Then something starts to click...a past memory she has pushed aside for a long time. It is the same ordeal Jack apologized for when they first properly talked together - how she got kidnapped by that wretched Bug King, years ago...it is almost terrifying to remember.

She was newly-created at the time, by the hands of the town’s mad scientist, Dr. Finklestein. She was only alive for a few days before Halloween Town was completely overrun by horrible bugs. She got separated from her creator at the time, and was suddenly stuffed into a bag by the hands of three small children. She remembered the way they giggled when they stuffed her in the bathtub, speaking to her as if she were Jack Skellington. Her heart sinks remembering how she didn’t even know him, at the time. And the way she reacted when she first saw the Boogeyman...the sheer terror displayed on her face when he insisted on keeping her captive...

“That’s it!” Barrel exclaims. “She’s the one we kidnapped for Oogie! Susan!”

“Not ‘Susan’, you idiot!” Lock smacks him upside the head. “It was….erm...uh….”

“ Sally  !” Shock slaps her forehead in realization. The other’s eyes widen before they look back at her, then make small  ‘ah’ sounds. They look at each other again before laughing once more,  slapping their knees this time. The ragdoll is even more insulted this time, but it is nothing compared to how she feels with their next words:

“Oh, man! Didn’t Jack have to come and save you? How helpless  are  you? And you think you can boss  us around!?” The witch giggles. “I think the Doctor forgot to give you a brain!”

“Hey, what’s that over there?” Barrel abruptly points in a direction.

The others follow his finger and notice a newly-constructed building in this part of Halloween Town. They read the sign plastered outside proudly - “ Sally’s Sewing Shop ”. The pristine paint, the intact windows and doors...it certainly catches their attention. Both Lock and Shock stroke their chins the longer they look at it. Plenty of ideas stir in their mind, wondering just how they can vandalize it and make their work look proud. Sally frowns as she notices the expression on their faces. Panic settles in her leaves. She doesn’t feel right about any part of this situation at all.

“No!” She exclaims firmly. “Whatever you’re thinking of...don’t do it!”

“Is that YOUR sewing shop?” Shock teases. “I don’t remember THAT being there before..”

“How’d you get it?” Lock asks curiously. At her silence, he gives a knowing look at the other two. “Guys, don’t you remember those rumors in Town? That Jack got a  girlfriend ?”

“Ew!” Barrel and Shock stick out their tongues in disgust. Then they realize his words and grin devilishly. “I mean, yes... we do !”

“I bet  he got you that shop! And I bet how upset he’d be if something happened to it...because some doll wasn’t watching her mouth around Boogie’s Boys!”

Something snaps in her at those words. She doesn’t appreciate how cocky they sound, nor the coy smile that boy has when he says them. She steps forward and clenches her fists tightly. So tight she can feel the seams begin to weaken….her eyes widen as she comes even closer and the three take a step back. They notice her stiff posture and the smile is promptly wiped off their faces. In a dark tone, Sally Finklestein warns them:

 “You will NOT be going anywhere NEAR my shop! And if you do, Jack will bring the WORST punishment on you three that you have ever SEEN! Do I make myself clear!?”

They don’t appreciate being talked to like this. But they think twice of it, and decide it’s not worth the trouble right now. They * can * get in serious hot water with Jack whenever he is angry - they’ve learned that lesson plenty in the past. And knowing this is his girlfriend...that would make things worse! They decide to drop it for now, only out of caution, and exchange a defeated nod with each other. They stick their tongues out at her before scurrying off in a random direction, glancing back only once to snicker wickedly. She is left standing there, fuming, as their small figures disappear through a gate. She releases her fists and lets out a sigh, worryingly glancing back at her shop and feeling the anxiety start to raise in her leaves.

  ‘I should talk with Jack…’

----  

Sally is disappointed to learn that the skeleton has to cancel their arrangement that afternoon, as the Mayor is overworking him especially on this day. She shares some understanding, knowing he took the day off with her not too long ago just to spend some time together...he asks her if there’s anything urgent she needs to tell him - and she decides to bite her tongue, for now. She can spill everything about it to him tonight, when they can relax together after dinner, and all of his work is off his shoulders…

Finding she has a free afternoon, she decides to visit the Witches in their shop. They told her she is free to come by anytime, and that they’re interested in getting to know her. This certainly holds true, as the women inform her it’s their own lunch break, and insist on bringing her to a small arrangement with the other women in town. They demand on doing it to make up for the cruelty they all showed her in the past. She’s almost nervous accepting such an invitation, but agrees to it in the end. She  would like to make new friends, after all…!

Sally Finklestein is led to a small table in the Residential part of town, shaded by an umbrella, where the Undersea Gal and Corpse Mom are currently sitting at, sipping small cups of tea and eating at plates with sandwiches on them. She is surprised at how welcome she is received, as there is no trouble making room for her the moment they spot her. She brings her own lunch to the table, a small bowl of worm and pea soup, before comfortably sitting beside the witches.

“Sally! We’ve been wanting to see you for some time now.” The Corpse Mom adjusts her glasses with a smile. “We just want to know all about what you’re up to..!”

“Your shop must be getting so many customers. I would visit you myself, if I had any need for clothes.” The fish butts in. “What I’ve heard from everyone else is terrible!”

“Oh, please..” She bats her eyes at their words. “It’s really nothing special. I am busy with all the clothes I’m making, but it’s only to help everyone in town.”

“You won that award on Halloween..! I would say it was rightfully deserved!” Helgamine exclaims, almost too passionately. It’s clear she’s making an effort, at least.

“You made my little boy some new clothes. He goes through them quicker than the vampires getting out of the sun.” The large woman sets down her sandwich. “We are all incredibly thankful for what you do.”

Her ruby lips curve into a smile. This is going all so well..! The five of them start having an incredibly deep conversation, speaking about how things are going in town. She appreciates getting to hear from some of the residents she doesn’t know. They don’t seem all that upset with her presence and even ask plenty of questions to her. She grows more comfortable the longer they speak, and a full hour passes before their lunches are finished, and they are now drinking through their cups and enjoying the afternoon.

“You are such a delight, Sally.” The Undersea Gal compliments her. “We should get together more often..!”

The witches bow their heads and look another way at this suggestion. They agree regardless, and the creation appreciates this gesture. Before further words can be exchanged, the loud sound of a door slamming shut interrupts them. The women snap their heads in the direction, to find an angry shopkeeper disposing of unwanted customers. Sally isn’t surprised when it’s the same trick-or-treaters from before.

Lock, Shock, and Barrel rub their backs in pain as they remove themselves from the floor. They throw their hands angrily up in the air. “Hey! How could you treat your own customers like this? We’re just kids!”

“Yeah - rotten little brats, is what you three are!” He rebuts angrily, returning to his shop. “Come back when you know how to follow the rules!”

The figures flinch as the door slams shut again, even louder this time. The three exchange angry frowns before nodding and reaching into their bag, surfacing rolls of toilet paper and straws. It’s clear to any outsider what is going to happen - they’re going to play a classic  ‘trick’ on the unfortunate owner. Sally frowns as she witnesses this, and begins to stand in her chair to stop them. The other women notice and push her back down in her seat, giving her a firm shake of the heads.

“You don’t want to do that, dear.” The mother warns her. “Those three are more than you can handle.”

“I scared them off from my shop earlier.” She crosses her arms angrily. “They threatened to vandalize it, and I made it very clear Jack would punish them for it if they did.”

“You must’ve gotten lucky.” The Undersea Gal rolls her eyes. “They’ll never leave anyone alone before getting either candy, or playing a trick. They’re the worst trick-or-treaters in town, and I don’t mean that as a compliment..!”

The witches stand from their chair, shaking their heads and letting out disappointed  ‘tsks’ . “Children..! They just never learn, do they, sister?” Zeldaborne asks. Helgamine agrees as the two leave the table.

Sally and the others watch curiously as they confront the kids. They were in the middle of throwing the paper all over the building and preparing some spit wads. They notice their visitors and resort to name-calling and screams, before the two women flick their wrists and begin to chant a spell. Without any warning, a purple glow is cast on the trick-or-treaters, freezing them mid-air and forcing them to drop everything in their hands. They struggle in their grip and yell harshly at them. Helgamine grins in satisfaction.

“Now, are you three going to scram before we have to turn you into toads again?” She asks. “And this time, we’ll make it last for more than 3 days!”

“No! Don’t do that to us!” Barrel struggles to move his arms. “Not  again !”

“Then promise you’ll leave and quit bugging everyone! We don’t want you here, and we don’t know how many times we have to say it..!”

“Not until you learn how to behave!” Zeldaborne adds before turning to one of them. “And Shock, you know how disappointed we are in you..! You could be learning how to be a proper witch instead of all this nonsense!”

The little girl laughs bravely. “From who?  You hags? I would never want to!”

They move their fingers and the glow grows only stronger. The kids groan as the grip is tightened. It doesn’t take long before they begin to plead.  “Please, stop! We’ll go!” “Yeah! Far away!” “-Back to our treehouse!”  

“Good. Off you go, then.”

They release the spell, and the three land on the ground harshly again. They throw sour looks in their direction before grabbing their stuff and running off. It’s clear they’re more afraid this time, as they don’t even bother looking back. The witches clean their hands off before returning to the other women at the table, sitting back down casually and acting as if nothing had happened at all. Sally is in awe at what happened, and smiles in delight at them.

“That really works..?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve had to throw so many spells on them just to stop their shenanigans.” Helgamine huffs. “It’s expensive to keep doing it, and it seems like every week we have to..! I wish they would stay in that treehouse of theirs.”

“Who exactly are they..?” She inquires. “They kidnapped me once, to give to their  ‘boss’ . That was when that Bug King took over the town.”

“Right. That  debacle.” The Undersea Gal frowns at the memory. “They are trick-or-treaters, obviously, but they’re more of miscreants. Always causing trouble and bringing bad things with them..! None of us want them here.”

“That’s right! They do all of these awful, nasty things for that terrible Oogie Boogie...they are never good news. Don’t believe them if they promise anything to you.” The Corpse Mom shivers in her seat. “They’ll just wreck your stuff and bully your boys just to get free candy!”

“We believe in the name of trick-or-treating, we truly do! But they take their  ‘tricks’ to such levels…” Zeldaborne clenches her hands. “No matter how much candy you give them, they’ll keep coming back and demanding more each time!”

The Undersea Gal comes forward and lays a scaly hand on her shoulder. “Don’t ever let them into your shop, Sally, or even around it for Halloween’s sake! They will only cause trouble for you. Believe me. It’s happened to all of us.”

She frowns at all this information. She can believe it. Those words they said to her earlier...none of it was good news. “How come such children behave this way? How could they work for someone so awful? And what you said, Zeldaborne...that girl doesn’t even want to become a witch like you two. How could that be?”

“ -That Oogie Boogie !” They all exclaim, angrily, in unison. She looks around the table in confusion.

“He makes those little ones work for him, and it is just so cruel.” Corpse Mom frowns. “He constantly feeds them candy and junk food all day, and lets them do whatever they want! He’s the reason why they cause so much mischief.”

“They live in a treehouse in the Hinterlands forest. Far from town, but not far  enough , in my opinion!” Zeldaborne waves her fist in the air angrily. The other creatures sigh and nod in agreement.

“Oogie Boogie is terrible news. You don’t want to meet him, which is why you should avoid those trick-or-treaters at all costs. It’s best you don’t catch their attention, otherwise the Boogeyman will know about  you , too.” Helgamine warns Sally darkly.

She wishes to ask them more about this subject, but the ladies insist on changing topics - to something more... cheerful . She slumps in her seat as they begin to talk about business in town. She joins in the conversation when necessary, but her mind feels... troubled , and overwhelmed with all this information. She can’t get the image of those children out of her mind, and finds that somehow, somewhere , deep down...she feels a little sad for them.

----

The rest of the day is spent cautiously in her shop. She finds herself hanging around near her front door more often, constantly peering around the streets in search of those miscreants again. She’s relieved to find no sight of them, and is quick to close her sewing shop once the time comes. She makes sure she locks the door and closes the curtains before leaving for the Skellington Manor. Ophelia blinks worriedly at her owner from the basket held in the crook of her arm. The ragdoll seems so tense, that even an animal like her can sense it..!

She makes her way through the doors and relaxes once she’s inside. She lets Ophelia onto the floor and discards her wicker basket on the table. The cat happily meets with the ghostly dog and the two retreat to the other end of the room. She watches them run off before suddenly being met with two long arms wrapping around her figure. She smiles as she feels Jack Skellington hugging her, digging his skull into her shoulder. His pumpkin cologne eases her instantly.

“Welcome home, Sal..!” He greets her proudly in her ear. She hugs him back tightly.

“Glad to be home, Jack…”

He withdraws after a moment, allowing her to get comfortable. It is still a little early before dinner has to be made, so the skeleton joins her side and rests on the cushions of the couch. The animals are playing on the carpet in front of them, giving quite an amusing sight to the Manor’s residents. He chuckles when Ophelia manages to paw at Zero’s pumpkin nose, which lights up in alarm at the contact. Sally catches this scene and giggles as well.

“Aren’t they adorable together?”

“They certainly are.” He agrees with a knowing tone. Zero catches their words and quietly growls, only to be cut off when the black cat paws at him again.

“He won’t admit it, but I know Zero’s gotten very fond of her.” The tall man informs his girlfriend. “He enjoys the company so much, he waits right by the door for you to return from your shop with Ophelia!”

“Does he, now?” The ragdoll teases and the dog turns away. “I’m so glad he loves the new addition to our little family..!”

The apparition decides he’s had enough of their teasing and flies entirely into another room. The cat is confused at this gesture and runs straight after him. The two figures laugh from the couch as they watch them disappear through a doorway. They’re left alone now, and the silence starts to linger. She goes to cuddle with Jack and sighs in relief once she’s in his grip. She still has to tell him about her day...but she’d rather do that after they’ve eaten….

“Would you like me to cook dinner tonight?” She offers. He thinks about the idea, stroking his finger along hers.

“Why don’t we make something  together ..? We’ve haven’t done that yet..!”

“Cooking together?” She blinks in interest. “I’ve never done such a thing...sharing the kitchen was never an option because, well, the Doctor had trouble with cooking!”

“Not a problem for me.” He picks her up in one smooth movement from the couch. She lets out a surprised noise before hugging his frame tightly. “Why, we should get started right now..!”

He moves his skull down to brush his nasal bone against her nose. She enjoys the touch while he brings them into the kitchen within only a few steps. He lets her down and starts searching through a cookbook. She joins his side and, after a few minutes, the two agree on a special meal to make together. It’s a new experience entirely to be cooking by the Pumpkin King - she’s always thought sharing a kitchen would feel cramped and bothersome, but it is entirely the opposite! Rarely would they bump elbows or get in the other’s way; it is delightful to help pour the ingredients in bowls and have him reach anything she can’t.

They spend a wonderful time cooking a casserole together, and by the time it’s finished, they’re both eager to try it. They waste no time helping themselves to their servings, sitting in the dining room to share this meal they made together. She feels almost excited as she squirms in her seat, eagerly stabbing her fork through the food and bringing it to her lips, savoring the taste…It doesn’t take very long until she comes to a judgement.

“It’s...delicious!” She exclaims. He takes his own bite and soon agrees.

“Absolutely wonderful! See? We make such good things together..! Remember the Halloween costumes?”

“That we do...it was delightful, Jack. I hope we do this again.”

“Then we will.” He replies smoothly before taking another bite.

She relaxes completely in her seat as they resume their meal, finishing it shortly with its tempting flavors. They return to the living room to cuddle once more, allowing their supper to be digested. The pets have long moved on in the house, but they don’t mind being alone at that moment. He especially misses her contact after not making it to their lunch together that day...he feels guilty having to be away, and frowns as he combs his hand through her yarn hair. He’s obligated to ask.

“How did your day go, my love? It didn’t trouble you that I couldn’t make it to our arrangement, did it? The soup you made was very good...”

“Oh, it was fine. I know you have plenty of work with the Mayor.” She nestles his side sweetly. “I went into town and had lunch with the Witches and a few other women from town.”

“Did that go well?”

“Yes. They’ve been wanting to make it up to me for what they said in the past. And we had a lovely time together. We talked so much about my shop and what’s been going on in the town…except, well…”

He notices her hesitation and leans forward. “Except…?” He inquires, crooking an eye socket.

“I had an unexpected encounter today, with...well, some children.” She awkwardly begins explaining. “I met the trick-or-treaters today. I found them picking on the Corpse Kid, the Mummy boy, and the winged demon...I just had to put a stop to it, so I interrupted them. It didn’t go quite as I planned…”

“You met with Lock, Shock, and Barrel?” The skeleton asks in surprise. She waits before nodding. “Did they give you any trouble?”

“Well, yes * and * no. They noticed my shop and threatened to do something to it, before I told them you would punish them if they did. And then they ran off. But when I had lunch with those ladies, we noticed them picking on some of the shopkeepers in town. The Witches stepped in and put an end to it, but-”

“-They’re a lot of trouble, Sally.” He interrupts her, waving a skeletal finger. “You need to be wary of them.”

“That’s exactly what they said.” She sighs. “But, Jack, who exactly are they? They told me they were miscreants and trick-or-treaters, but that’s all I really know…”

He hums before removing his arms and sitting upright. She can tell this is a serious subject and allows him to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he replies, “-They’re Halloween Town’s  finest trick-or-treaters. And by that, really, they’re just good at what they do. Which is to get candy and pull tricks. But they cause much more trouble than they’re worth, and often try to give me and the Mayor a hard time…”

She leans forward and listens intently, wanting to know more about these children. “Where did they come from? I heard they don’t have any parents.”

“No. They don’t.” He frowns. “They came into town a long time ago, recently deceased at the time, I believe...they caused a lot of trouble back then, not particularly interested in meeting us, but demanding candy from everyone and pulling lots of pranks and tricks on them. It was overwhelming for me and the Mayor, and we tried our best to put a stop to it but...we weren’t very successful, you see…”

She blinks at his story.

“We were desperate and out of options trying to get these kids to behave. I could only scare them so much to put them in line. Not to mention, we had Halloween to worry about, and couldn't babysit them all the time. We eventually brought them to someone whom we thought could correct their behavior...but it hasn’t worked since.”

“Did you bring them to the boogeyman?”

He flinches at the word and visibly tenses. She is about to ask why until he grits his teeth and continues. “-- Yes . We brought them to Oogie Boogie thinking he could correct their behavior...but he took advantage of it instead, and made them his henchmen. They carry all his wrongdoings now since he can’t leave his casino.”

“And why can’t he?”

“I banished him. The same day he kidnapped you, and I met you for the first time.” He finds it within himself to smile softly, reaching for her hand and holding it firmly. “He had to be punished for what he did with the town, and trying to overthrow me. It’s the only way he can get what he wants - by making those children do all his dirty work for him.”

“Don’t you feel bad for them..? That they are under his control, and they had so much potential to be innocent little children…”

“It’s a difficult situation.” He sighs exasperatedly. “I’ve given them plenty of opportunities to better themselves and get * away * from Oogie Boogie, but they never seem to want to do it. They insist on telling him everything and involving him in everything I’ve asked them to do. He inevitably has some influence on them, one way or another.”

He notices her picking her seams nervously(a habit he might scold her for, it worries him immensely that she'll pull herself apart), and brings her gaze back to his. He tells her firmly. “Sally, everything those witches and women told you is true. They are trouble and do not come with good intentions. Please, avoid them all you can, and let me know immediately if they start bothering you and your shop.”

“I will. I don’t trust them.” She replies firmly, then softens her gaze. “But I still feel so bad for those children…”

“As do I. But, please, it is not your situation to fix. Don’t worry about them. Eventually, I’m sure they’ll overgrow everything and want to move on ....” He begins to mutter with his sentence, and snaps himself out of it. “Just don’t talk to them or let them inside your shop. Understand?”

She nods again. He drops the subject from there and announces that it’s time to get ready for bed. She obliges and follows him into their room together, changing into their pajamas for the night and freshening up before heading into bed. They sleep together closely, with Jack holding her unusually tight, more so than normal. The entire evening, she thinks of those children and the boogeyman…and her first encounter with all of them….

[rjhpandapaws]

(2/?) weekend, starring Connor & Nines platonic/brother relationship, canon!verse

//I love this

Early after his deviation, Nines would have answered with a curt almost offended ‘No’ if he was ever asked if he had family. Then one of his predecessor models had glued himself to Nines. Connor checked in on him constantly. At first it had been annoying, and Nines had been dismissive if not outright combative about it. Then the RK800 had been hurt in the line of duty, and suddenly that pillar Nines hadn’t known he needed was gone. He didn’t know how to navigate his fledgling feelings without him around. When Connor came back it was Nines who checked on him constantly. Lingering like a tall sinister shadow. He didn’t know what else to abate what he had come to Identify as worry. Unlike Nines, Connor had been receptive of the constant company. When Nines had asked him about it he had simply smiled. They were a family now. Having a brother was, odd, but not unpleasant Richard found. He had someone who was almost always in his corner. There to help when things got to be too much. He learned a few things about Connor he probably wouldn’t have learned otherwise. His love of animals for one. Everyone knew he adored dogs, but as it turned out he had a soft spot for any animal he came across. The difference in Connor while he was at work and Connor when he was off the clock. He went from a composed, some times even dangerous detective, the one that knew all your cards no matter how close you held them to your chest; to what amounted to a bright eyed child, he was curious about everything and would talk to anyone who had the answers. The first couple of times it had been jarring, but Nines knew now it was how he dealt with having a foot in each world. He worked closely with his base code at work, but once that was over RK800 was put away and the real Connor came out. Nines might have been the younger of the two, but he would do anything in his power to protect that bright eyed wonder in Connor’s eyes.

Connors official activation date was coming up and Nines had made plans for the weekend. A small party Friday evening with friends, and then spending the weekend at Connor’s apartment. Keeping the party a secret was difficult because of his own excitement and that of their friends. From the saline tears in Connor’s eyes and the bright smile he assumed the surprise was a success. Connor turned and hugged Nines tight enough it would have hurt if he was human. “This is amazing, thank you.” He said once he had collected himself. Nines smiled, “You’re welcome. How else was I supposed to express how many people appreciate my little brother.” Connor narrowed his eyes but didn’t take the bait this time. The party was a success, Connor enjoyed himself and everyone else seemed to have fun too. It was a thing to observe. Connor tried to pull him into it a couple of times but Nines was more one for people watching than actively interacting. The party dispersed after a few hours and the duo caught a cab back to Connor’s apartment. Connor had gotten a few gifts, most dog themed, Nines had gotten him a Dwarf  Gourami patterned mug for his thirium.

Connor’s apartment was more furnished than other android apartments. He had a full living room, a guest room designed to be comfortable for both humans and androids, and his room had a bed in it as well. He had a small kitchen as well, most androids forwent that particular customization, but Connor had just as many human friends as he did android ones so it made sense that his home would have influences from both. When they got to the apartment Nines made himself at home while Connor put away the gifts from his birthday. Nines swelled with pride as the mug he had gotten his brother was placed where it could easily be seen. When that was done Connor made his way to where Nines had settled in on the couch and sat beside him. He connected to tv and turned it on for background noise. Connor had come to dislike absolute silence. He needed some kind of noise in the background. “Thanks again for tonight. It was fun.” He said with a smile. “Of course Connor. Its your birthday, and parties seem to be the custom.” Nines said as he relaxed into the couch some, mimicking Connor’s slightly slouched posture. Something he had probably picked up from Hank without noticing. They spent the next few hours talking and listening to what was on the tv until Connor decided to get ready for stasis. When he was in pajamas, another thing Nines didn’t understand, he came back out into the living room to say good night. “I’m gonna go into stasis for a bit. You can keep watching tv or do whatever. The guest room is open if you want to get some rest as well.” Connor gestured to the door to the guest room, despite Nines already knowing the floor plan. “Sleep well Connor.” Nines said in response as the shorter android retreated down the hall.

Saturday found them lounging around the apartment comparing notes on a few cases until Connor get distracted by a commercial for the Detroit Zoo. Nines knew what he was going to suggest before he turned back toward Nines, but the bigger android let him speak. “Would you like to go to the zoo once we finish these up?” He asked with bright eyes. “Sure. I haven’t gotten to go yet.” Nines responded. “It will be fun.” They worked through the reports a little faster now that that they had motivation. By ten in the morning they were in a cab on the way to the Detroit Zoo. Connor was all but vibrating in excitement. He was prattling off all the things they could do when they got there, and Nines listened despite having access to all the same information. He didn’t get to see Connor this excited very often and it was a nice change of pace. When they arrived Connor paid and disappeared into the Saturday crowd leaving Nines to trail after him. He took the place behind Connor in line. “I never thought I would have to tell a grown android not to run off.” He remarked dryly, despite the amused smile curling at his lips. Connor turned to face him still grinning, “I’m excited Nines. I’ve never been to a zoo before.” “Neither have I, but you don’t see me running around like a child.” He responded. Connor rolled his eyes, “That’s because you’re boring.” Nines shoved him. careful of the other people in line and didn’t deign that with a response. He was excited, but like most other things he chose not to express it. Connor had it covered well enough for them both. When they were admitted Connor spent hours dragging Nines from exhibit to exhibit. It was nice. They took in the available facts and watched a couple of the shows. Nines went into the reptile enclosure on his own because it was a little too enclosed for Connor’s liking. In the way that all good tourists did, they stopped by the gift shop. Nines bought a wolf plush for Connor, and tiger print coffee mug for Gavin. Connor bought a lot of things, most of them were for him, but he had gotten a bobble head of a particularly grumpy looking lion for Hank and an oversized snake plush for Nines. He adored it, privately of course. Connor had gotten a perfectly composed “thank you” but Nines was beaming on the inside. With Connor it was the little things he used to express he cared. They topped off on thirium when they got back to the apartment and talked well into the night. Neither of them going into stasis, too busy going back over the day and relishing in the memory.

Sunday was a lazy day, time to themselves before they got back to work on Monday. Connor had music playing softly in the background as he and Connor attempted to play some of the older video games Hank and Gifted him as they were intended rather than interfacing with the controllers and it was a time. Playing games based off of reflex instead of access to their code was difficult, but doing well gave a rush that had Nines understanding why humans loved it so much. When evening rolled around Nines found himself not wanting to leave, but he had to since they both had work in the morning. “See you tomorrow Connor.” Nines said when they were at the door. “See you tomorrow Nines.” Connor said with a smile as he gave Nines one last hug. “Thanks for this weekend. It was fun.” “It really was.” He said with a smile. He gave another wave and left. He was looking forward to the next weekend they could do something like this again.

@i-am-therefore-i-fight //ngl this ask makes me want to go to the zoo

(Prompt from this list)

[libradusk]

Touch Starved | Kix

Word Count: 3,683

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x Reader

Summary: The pain of losing those you love burns harsher than any shot of liquor ever could.

You’re determined to not let Kix face his demons alone.

Warnings: LOTS OF HURT/COMFORT because I live for this trope, use of alcohol as a coping mechanism somewhat, mention of injury and death that results from war, mention of a medical setting.

a/n: This chapter is dedicated especially to @morganas-pendragons​ who is so talented and so kind and helped inspire this chapter - I really hope you enjoy this chapter Kayla!

Also the two other characters briefly featured in this are my two medic oc’s, you can find a visual reference for Eir here with a little more info, if you’re curious.

Thanks for all the love on this series so far! I appreciate each and every one of you.

Tagging: @thatonesakudere​, @kaminobiwan​ and @simping-for-fives​ (Send me a message if you wanna be tagged in any of my future fics!)

When he wasn’t in the mess for supper with the rest of the 501st’s boys, you knew exactly where he was hiding.

That preconceived knowledge turned over itself in your stomach. The feeling was biting, twisting your newly closed stitches tighter until they threatened to knot your rib-cage into black and blue rods of anxiety.

You were woozy, still somewhat unsteady on your feet despite it having been a full 24 hours since you had awoken from the surgeon’s table, bathed in a halo of fluorescent light and with little more than a medical droid for company. But still, despite the stinging in your side and the heaviness of your muscles, you persevered onward, back towards the medbay, back to him - whether he wanted the company or not, you needed to do what you could to ensure he was ok.

For your own sanity, as well as his at this point.

Your stomach protests against your heart’s demand the moment you are hit with the first wave of disinfectant-heavy air, forcing your arm to shoot out and brace your heaving body against the medbay’s entrance. Almost instantly, your knees buckle in response to the flare of pain that shoots over your entire right side. Bile begins to stretch and rise from the hollowness of your stomach, equal parts a reaction to not only the smell and memory of your injury, but also to the agony currently rippling across your hunched form. The force of it makes your heart feel as though it is swelling and threatening to drag itself out of your throat with each breath you take, it takes a good few seconds to recollect yourself and refocus your vision as it stutters. 

There's a quiet sense of mourning draped across the wing. Considering what whispered condolences and murmurings had floated past the lips of the surviving soldiers released the same time as you, you’re not surprised. Through the pain poisoning your thoughts, you theorise that the bulk of the medical staff on duty are no doubt stretched between filing out piles of casualty reports and treating what unfortunate souls were not as lucky as you were. Yet despite all this, it's mere moments before you raise your head to find yourself flanked by a small crowd of medical droids. They hobble around you on weighted, gray tinted limbs with a speed that seemed uncanny to the robotic creatures, a concerned droning manifesting through the air as their vocal modulators begin to speak in unison.

Get away from me, I don’t have time for this! 

The words lock themselves behind your gritted teeth as you inwardly curse your body for collapsing in on itself before your mission was complete. Thinking only in frustration, you fight past the tremor threatening your wrist to shove at the closest droid’s metallic face-plate, silently urging your senses to adapt to the sterile atmosphere so you could continue to force your tired legs towards their goal.

Yet instead of the chill of durasteel or the sharp prickle of a sedative agent penetrating your flesh, all you feel beneath your fingers is….nothing. You flex them around the air as you force your breathing to return to normal once more, the frantic panic slowly uncaging the rest of your senses until you can reach focus. There's a heavy, latex warmth clamped around your outstretched wrist and a symmetrical weight steadying the hunch of your shoulder. You follow the path they offer until your eyes meet with the concerned gaze serving as the final stitch that keeps you frozen in place - pinning you with a tired glare that makes you feel remorseful and relieved all at once.

“...Eir.”

The clone medic continues to stare down at you long after you regard him and shift your weight backwards. The purple tattoos rimming his eyes bleed almost seamlessly into the dark circles bruising the hollow of their sockets. His hair doesn't look like it's been washed properly in days and he's still donning a set of surgical scrubs atop his uniform. He looks every bit as broken as you feel, yet he's still on duty with no sign of rest in sight. Your heart falls at the thought of how many others have been injured as badly as you in the last attack to warrant him being assigned additional duties within the 501st.

A sigh stretches over Eir’s chest as his dark eyes inspect the state of you.

“You should be resting. I had hoped you would have had the sense to stay away from the medbay for a while longer at least. I’ve got my hands full here as it is without you working yourself to the point of reinstatement straight after being discharged.”

Despite the exasperation sinking across his tone, he releases his hold on your wrist, the hand supporting your shoulder slinking back to join it in shooing away the medical droids as soon as he deems you steady enough to stand to full height again. He clicks his tongue as you absentmindedly ghost a hand over your injured side despite the pain having mostly subsided in its throbbing now. There's another beat where you can't quite bring yourself to look him in the eyes, feeling oddly sheepish at the scene you had just made, and continuing to wither under his knowing gaze. He takes mercy on you then, recognising the determination blazing behind your downtrodden expression and greeting it with a knowing smile so tiny, you don’t even have a chance to notice it before it floats away once he returns his gaze to the rows of medical beds stretching like coffin markers down the hall.

“Come on then if you’re going to find him, I can’t have you pulling at your stitches in the doorway. You know you’ll have to face Faera’s wrath if you ruin her handiwork.”

His voice holds a familiar warmth now as he folds his hands behind him and waits for you to follow his march. A sigh of relief leaves you before you can stop it, the force of it irritates your bruised lungs, but you confine the feeling to the back of your mind and concentrate on pushing your legs to a brisk walk behind the tall clone.

“...You know, he almost fought Faera when she was called in to stitch you up.” The words wring out a fresh admission of guilt from you, if Eir notices the heaviness of your silence, he doesn’t comment on it. You can’t blame him, his mind must be engulfed in a war-zone of its own right now.

“I’ve never seen him-” the surgical room doors seem to spin past each other as you and Eir pass them, each identical to the last. You wonder if the way they seem to blur together into a grey-white smudge makes Eir feel dizzy too, as you wait for him to pick up his sentence where he left it hanging under the pale lights. “-I’ve never seen him so terrified to leave a surgery before…”

Eir comes to a graceful halt at the end of a particularly dark stretch of the medbay corridor. A sigh born from concern hisses across the scar marring his lip and creases his brow. He wrings his gloved hands behind his back as his gaze rests on the final door looming in front of you both.

“...Make sure he’s ok will you? For me too.” Another sigh. Long, dark lashes flutter in contemplation as his fingers continue to twist around the apprehension, the guilt, as it spills away from him in the safety of the dark. “We’ve lost a lot of brothers these past few days… I’ve taken him off duty, but he won’t let me-”

The mess of feelings choke him now and he ducks his body away from you, snapping at the bunched corner of his gloves to steel his mind and breathing. Your voice finally finds itself once more as your fingers move to the door’s switch.

“I promise, Eir. Look after yourself too, okay?”

You stand in the doorway just long enough to see the back of his head tip forwards in a nod before you leave him to confront the very man you had set out to locate.

The moment the blast door closes behind you, all the air slips from your throat once more. The echo of hospital equipment set up across the wards finally numbs, and you’re left with little more than the harsh lighting crawling across the room to distract yourself from the sight in front of you. Your heart keeps on rising until you can taste it: nervous and bloody and wretched.

Kix sits with his back to you atop the surgical table in his blacks - no scrubs, no armour and armed only with a bottle of brandy hanging from his deft surgeon’s fingers. The room itself is heavily sanitised and free from gore and death, not unlike the one you had woken up in that same morning, yet it still manages to conjure a feeling that's downright insidious as the atmosphere crawls over your skin.

The entire base stinks of death today, the sickly pallor of Kix’s skin under the lights appears to indicate that he's danced beside its path far too many times now.

The clack of your boots against the floor is soon smothered by the neon as you edge yourself closer to where he sits, motionless in place. Had the arch of his shoulders not been gently rising with each breath he took, you would have been convinced that death had claimed him too.

“Smuggling in alcohol to the medbay, Kix? I would have expected better from a medic.”

You try to keep your tone light as it always is when you greet each other, but the words tumble out sour and tired, scratching your throat and flooding the gashes they leave with guilt the moment that they’re free. They trip forward and tie themselves around your feet, begging you to turn back around and leave. You ignore them, stepping closer into the room. You find yourself tracing the wedding of tattoos and patterns shaved into the back of his skull to calm yourself in the silence. The bottle remains suspended at his side, an all too familiar barrier for you both.

The seconds feel heavier than ever before he finally shrugs them away, throwing you a backwards half-glance over his shoulder, wordlessly beckoning you closer despite the hesitation that clenches across the muscles in his arms. Your attempt at lightheartedness is all a facade and you both know it. The fact that your hands have begun their crawl up the sides of his biceps to massage the knotted stress out of his shoulder blades is revealing enough of your true intentions.

You don’t waste energy with empty inquiries into if he's ok - none of the GAR medical staff are, after all, statistics and corpses cannot lie.

He leans back into your touch appreciatively, taking the utmost care to keep the brunt of his weight off of you. Kix’s gaze is locked on the swirling golden contents of the bottle in his fist now, the expression branded across them reminds you of the one Eir’s face had mirrored minutes prior. Another lump curdles in your throat as you spread your palms a little wider across his back and lean into the warmth of his body from behind him. The table bites into your thighs.

“I wish I could tell you it matters if I drink on the job or not. I’ve lost every one of the boys I’ve touched in the last ten surgeries.”

The world pauses at his words.

He takes another heavy swig of the bottle, hissing at the sting of the liquid against his tongue. The smell of it between you turns in your stomach, but you press your face into the slope of his neck all the same, urging him to continue with a gentle press of your lips.

“... and then when they brought you in from the field, all bloody and unconscious - a little part of me started screaming to run away.” Kix pulls forward, gently separating you both so he can twist to finally look at you from the edge of his table-top perch. His eyes are painted with remorse, but beneath it they’re as warm as they always are when it comes to you. “I was so scared of killing you too.”

His eyes glass over the moment his fingers can’t fight their shiver long enough to hold the bottle anymore. The emotion in them shatters the same time it hits the table with a resounding thunk. 

You rush to gather him up in your arms before the first tears begin to fall, pulling his head to your chest in the hope that your heartbeat could soothe him where your words could not. His fingers are bitten and washed raw, but no amount of scrubbing could ever cleanse his memories of what he had seen, what he was yet to see. They’re blistered around the cuticles, and you press each knuckle against your mouth to try and kiss away the guilt and the pain they carry, anything to ease his burden even a little. You’re not naive, you know nothing short of a miracle would make things better as they currently stood, but you would sooner drop dead than let him be dragged down alone by the weight of it all.

“You did everything you could, you all did.” You whisper the words against the heat of his skin, moving away the bottle so you could coax him closer and away from the table. “You didn’t kill any of them, none of this is your fault. I know it, Eir knows it and so does every single one of the boys in this whole damn army”

He’s carved from solid muscle, yet he’s so beaten down that the defeat aches across his posture and sinks its teeth into his bones as he struggles to find his feet. He breathes in deeply, head lolling heavily in the crook of your neck to ground himself from breaking down and sobbing into you. Each breath is steady, counted, but his heart flutters erratically next to yours as his fingers twitch over where they know your injury lies, too terrified to touch near it in case they somehow unhook each of the stitches and spill your blood across the white room. You dance your own down his spine in drawn-out, fluid movements. Your mind is aflame with the knowledge that though his body may gradually begin to unfurl, as long as he remains planted in this place his mind will be primed to snap again and again, until there is little left for you to reach.

He’s torturing himself by remaining here long after his shift has ended, you note. The realisation punctures something deep and threatens to drag forward fresh tears of your own. You pull back then despite the reluctance of both your limbs and the man tangled between them, gently patting his shoulder once before lacing your fingers against his clammy palm.

“Come on.” It's not a request as much as it's an instruction, one that leaves no room for argument despite the dull pain that throbs across your tone.

Eir is nowhere to be seen when you finally succeed in leading Kix by the hand out of the surgical room, you don't know whether to be relieved or concerned at the fact. The air across the ward still tastes of sickness and fear, it clips you as you push past it and out towards where your quarters are located.

Your room is small and most certainly not designed to house two people, but it's a better place to grieve than on a cold slab of operating table. Perhaps you think, that you’re also a little selfish enough to want him next to you tonight. Just so that you can ensure he isn't falling to pieces in that cold, aseptic cage of a surgical room if nothing else.

Your hands are endlessly gentle as you bundle him into the narrow bed before placing them on the mattress to carefully ease yourself in next to him. He senses your discomfort immediately, shuffling over to help you climb beneath the sheets in a position that takes the pressure off your wound. The care with which he handles you defrosts a little of the sadness freezing your blood, grateful that even when he was hurting so deeply himself, his adoration for you still continued to dapple like sunlight through every action he undertook. You draw him back into your chest again then, engulfing him in the warmth and safety that you extend to him with your entire being. Kix’s eyes shut themselves tightly, lashes fluttering against your pulse as he listens in for the thrum of your heart against your rib-cage. A tiny part of you hopes that it will be enough to lull him into some much needed slumber, but the cynicism dominates and quashes the thought as soon as it bubbles to the surface - its all wistful thinking once again, neither of you will sleep much at all tonight, that much had been foretold the moment you were discharged from the medbay that same morning.

The smell of brandy is weaker on his breath now as he trails his fingers over your torso, having finally found the strength to touch you now that he had been liberated from his self imprisonment. A shudder kisses down your spine at the sensation. It's as though he’s mapping out every little bit of your body, like you will be taken away from him if he doesn’t.

The same bitter cynicism screams in your ear once more, reminding you that in this war there’s no real guarantee you won’t be pulled apart either way.

You force it down alongside a fresh curtain of tears.

His digits halt once they loop towards the medical dressing plastered to your side, it's as if the newfound obstacle has clashed with his memories of your body enough to shock him to an abrupt stop. Slowly, cautiously, his touch withdraws away from the fabric as if it's dangerous.

“It’s proof that I’m alive.” He doesn’t respond outright, but you can feel his shoulders begin to shake underneath your caress, even though his face remains hidden under your chin. “You saved me, Kix, I’m here because of you.”

“My heart hasn’t stopped pounding from the moment they wheeled you in. It only got worse when they called me away to begin another procedure, all I could think about was what I would do if you didn’t wake up - like all the others before you.”

You curl around him tighter, hooking your legs around his own and cupping under his shoulder blades to draw him in even closer, grounding you both as he spills his heart until it bleeds into the sheets beneath you. Tears stream his face, less reluctant now. They veer down in fat streams and look drunk with how they cling to his cheeks and chin.

“...These boys need you, Kix. You would need to carry on, as we all do-”

“I wouldn't want to.”

You let him say it, let it drip like poison from his lips in the hope that it's at least cathartic to the guilt radiating from within him. You snuff out any words that threaten to follow with a kiss to his forehead, prolonged and firm enough to soothe the lump in your throat as much as it is for him. He cranes his head upwards to capture the second kiss with his own mouth. There's nothing gentle about how his lips mesh with your own this time, his kiss is searing with its passion and it steals away what little breath you have left. A hand threads itself behind your nape to pull you impossibly closer in the tiny bed, the other digging into your hip bone as though you would dissolve into starlight if he failed to hold you in place.

His cheeks feel damp as they scrape against your face, dying the kiss salty with tears. They overpower the bite of the brandy on his tongue in the same way they must do to the alcohol burning in his veins. The sheets twist and threaten to slip from the bed frame as you press to turn him onto his back despite the twinge in your side. His eyes snap back open, wide and alert in protest at your overexertion. You shut down the medic side of him with a single finger to his parted lips, a smile blossoming across your face for the first time that day. The thin sheets pool around your hips, binding both sets of the legs beneath it together. He relents with his unvoiced complaint, frown still reluctant, but eyes swimming with golden waves of emotion as he stares up at you. 

“I love you.”

He’s said it before, a few times now - but back then the words were always seeped in alcohol and playful bravado. This is different, it's raw and choked with affection that runs deeper than any liquor could ever reach. It decorates across his face in such detail that it puts his tattoos to shame, and it drags forth another wave of tears that have been collecting behind your lashes. They drip into your smile as it splits wider.

“I love you too, Kix. More than you’ll ever know.”

You surge forward to kiss across his face and neck, relying on the peppered heat of your lips and passion to communicate what mere words never could - to reassure every part of him that you were real, alive, and hopelessly in love with him, that come morning, he wasn’t going to wake up to your body laying there cold and accusatory with his failure to save you.

For the first time, Kix allows himself to be treated for his own wounds, as you stitch up his anxieties with each brush of your lips against his.

[leenukeath]

The essential cannot be seen (Darkest Dungeon fic)

So @sir-crypts​ recently published an illustration (here: https://sir-crypts.tumblr.com/post/636062084110680064/thing-i-drew-for-leenukeaths-fic-of-abomleper) of an Abomination/Leper fic I wrote for a discord server, I figured I’d share the story, set in the Darkest Dungeon game. Thanks again Sir Crypts for the lovely art.

The Essential cannot be seen Abom/Leper friendship (more?) fic by Leenu

He hated this.

Trudging his way through the murky brine of the cove, Baldwin did his best to keep his gaze forward lest it slipped to the loathsome companion in his back. He was supposed to be accompanied originally by Reynauld, but he (and the highwayman) had disappeared a few days ago and were nowhere to be found when the Heir had called them to formation. Which left him with the following company: a plague doctor, Paracelsus, eyeing with what seemed like curiosity whatever moved or crawled around them, an Occultist, Alhazred who kept his hand closer to his dagger than usual and … the thing that called itself Bigby.

Baldwin wanted nothing more than to leave this Abomination in the Hamlet and go alone, but since the fall of the crystal from the sky, the Heir had forced him and his companions to take the wretched creature with them on the crawls through the dungeon. And thus, the Leper was saddled with the rattling of chains behind his back. His eyes may have been focused on the way ahead, but his ears were listening and making sure no growl was coming from Bigby.

They had been tasked with clearing a sector of the cove, so far the battles had been manageable: the plague doctor’s grenades had done miracles against the pelagic creatures, and despite a few open wounds, the Occultist had kept everyone in one piece. The Abomination had decided to keep its tamed form, throwing his chains around and spewing bile over the enemies that the Leper happened to miss.

Then in the last room, the tune changed: a Squiffy Ghast started plucking on its rotting viola, sending bars upon bars of Maddening Shanties and Off Kilter Jigs.

Baldwin tried his best to hit the slippery skeleton, but whenever he hit, the things always seemed to jump back out of his reach. If only this creature had been the only enemy faced, the team would have cut it down with little combined effort, but it was accompanied by a Pelagic Guardian and an Uca Major. The latter one swinging its pincers with deadly precision, opening great wounds that drenched the seafloor with dark stains. The doctor was too busy stitching the team back together to throw any grenades, and the Occultist himself was struggling to replenish their blood levels, it was thus left to Baldwin and Bigby to carve their way through.

While the leper kept hitting the thick carapace of the Uca, the Abomination once more spewed his toxic bile over it and the Guardian, slowly dissolving their armor, too slowly however.

Another hit connected and the Occultist fell, his hand desperately clutched the skull in his hand to keep the flame from getting blown away as he begged: “This was not the deal we struck!”. Baldwin set himself up in a defensive stance to try and stop any more attacks from hitting Alhazred while Paracelsus fumbled with her vials when he felt something rush past him in a roar as it struck the beast.

The red creature pulled its horns out of the fleshy mass under the crustacean’s carapace it had dug itself in before starting to gnaw off its pincer, ripping it out after a few seconds of inhuman screeches. The Uca expired as it’s claw bled lymph all over the coral walls, and in response, the Guardian set down its shield over the Ghast. It hadn’t stopped playing for a second. Notes, bars, tunes, symphonies, … it had been playing the sounds of madness, and the team could feel their minds slipping into the abyss as the air brought forth ancient memories they wished were forgotten.

Bigby was the first one to snap.

The Ghast’s rotten fingers slid its bow over the algae covered cords, producing more of that unbearable sound, more of that noise that dragged painful memories with it...

The Abomination had started to lunge to take a bite out the skeleton, but his legs gave under him as he gripped his shaking head. Baldwin braced himself to defend the rest of the team from the new foe, ready to cut it down as soon as it bared its fangs in his direction. But to his surprise, Bigby started to shrink down until only his scrawny form was left on the briny floor: “It feeds off my essence, and now … I falter” he muttered as his trembles rattled his chains in a sick accompaniment to the squeaks of the damned viola.

The Leper himself was feeling his resolve falter, he could grab his human companions and run, leave these beasts to themselves and save the ones who were not yet damned in the Light. The Guardian started making its move and raised its bladed fist over the hunched Bigby, one strike would be enough, and all that Baldwin needed to do to rid the world of this creature was to hold back…

The viola’s notes rang, and his mind caved in.

The slimy head of the Pelagic Guardian split under the weight of the massive sword in the bandaged hands of the Leper as he pushed the Abomination back to his teammates:

“Mountains defy the consuming sea!”.

After pulling out the heavy blade from its fishy sheathe, Baldwin proceeded to wildly swing around wherever he could see the Ghast, he wasn’t counting his swings anymore, all he wanted was to crush those cords and find again the respite of silence.

Until he realized that he could not hear the viola anymore over his screams. As his vision cleared, he found himself surrounded in wood and bone splinters, the rush of blood roaring in his ears calmed down until he could hear Paracelsus and Alhazred stabilizing the shivering Bigby.

Over, finally, some silence.

The Leper was too glad to finally be granted this peace of mind, but it was short lived. The team made its way back through the murky paths, carrying themselves as well as possible, but it was clear the Occultist would not be able to guide the Abomination for much longer with his wounds. Thus it was Baldwin’s duty to hold Bigby on their way out of the damp tunnels.

He was not enjoying this, keeping this creature in such close proximity, but at least he could maintain an eye on it. Bigby was clearly not focused on the walk and tripped over nearly every single piece of coral on the way out, after a few near falls, he started holding onto the Leper’s bandaged arm, like a drowning man holding onto a piece of wreckage in a storm.

At first Baldwin considered pulling back and letting the damn thing find its way out by itself, but something stilled his hand. A warmth had seeped into his arm, a familiar feeling he had not experienced for years before … before his illness turned him into the feared creature he was now, forced to hide under the heavy bronze mask. As he felt the finger, human fingers, curling over his bandaged skin, he had a vague memory of fonder times, when the sun shone and he could feel the caress of the rays over his face, when he still had a family with his name…

He didn’t shake off the Abomination on their way back home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Hamlet, the team dropped off their loot in the vault and went their ways. Paracelsus was eager to analyze the samples she had gathered from the cove, Bigby ran out of view and Alhazred had to get stitches at the sanatorium, accompanied by Baldwin who needed his weekly injection. He didn’t know how it worked, but it was enough to keep his disease stalled, though not enough to cure him.

After dropping off the Occultist, the Leper was left to his own device. He noticed that his hand was still slightly trembling, and it was not because of the needle that had been implanted earlier. The ghost of the tune still sang in the back of his mind, and he needed to get it out.

He took the steps to the Abbey and cracked open the door, he expected the Vestal tending to the sacred fire, or the Flagellant in his rapturous devotion. Not the huddled and chained being bowing to the altar, furiously praying: “The world would be better off without us. The world would be better off without us. The world would be better off without us.”

Baldwin knew this feeling too well, it was something that needed peace of mind before the Light would grant him relief. The Leper went to sit himself in a corner of the church, lighting some incense, closing his eyes and focusing on his breath: In … Out … In … Out …

His heart was a war drum no more, just a slow tap reminding him that he was still alive.

In … Out … In … Out …

The tip of the fingers on his right hand had started to go numb a few days ago, and his eyesight was turning blurrier, this was probably why he couldn’t hit the Ghast at first back then. He had come to terms with his illness, he had no choice but to do so and accept that mortality would probably not come in a glorious strike, but in a slow loss of his senses as he decayed away.

In … Out … In … Out …

What had hurt most was the banishment, it was his choice, but he knew that if he didn’t do it himself, that choice would have ended up being taken for him. All who suffered like he were treated as outcasts, for the good of the people. But he had seen the colonies filled with the ones less fortunate than he, they were treated no better than monsters, he felt a twinge of regret toward his brothers and sisters in adversity.

In … In .. Out … Out.. In … In .. Out … Out..

Baldwin opened his eyes and saw Bigby, no longer shaking in front of the Altar, instead looking up to the Light, calmly breathing out his prayers of hope. Their gazes crossed for a few seconds of mutual acknowledgment before they went back to their respective communions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later, the two of them were sent together once more, this time in the Warrens to slay the Swine King. The Leper noticed that he was feeling less nervous with Bigby in his back, the rattle of his chains were a soothing sound over the squeals of the swine men roaming about these caves, and those very chains served well in combat to stun and slow down the enemy to let Baldwin push his sword into the enemy. The Vestal Junia was clearly still feeling nervous; but he figured that his presence alongside Milicent, the Arbalest, was aiding her in keeping her nerves calm enough to keep the torchlight up and their wounds closed.

Of course things were never easy for very long, especially when a Swinetaur decides to show itself. The squad set itself in position to face the massive enemy, but what they failed to notice were the two Swine Slashers lurking in the beast’s shadow. Only when the Arbalest fired her Rallying Flare did they find out too late. Baldwin did his best to try and let the first hook hit his plated armor, but was too late to dodge the swipe of the second one. The slash went upwards, leaving a mark upon his chin and hooking off his mask that went flying off into the piles of refuse, leaving his deformed face in view to the rest of the group. He didn’t need to look to feel his companion’s fearful gazes in his back.

More sword swings, more bolts, more prayers and a pair of horns put an end to the repulsive creatures. But at the cost of multiple open cuts that risked infection in the squalid conditions of the Warrens. Milicent suggested camping so she could dress up the worst of the wounds, a welcome respite, especially with all the food in their packs.

As the Vestal set down her sanctuary for the night, Baldwin noticed that Bigby had walked away, maybe to avoid distracting the nun during her important duty, he did not consider this situation much longer as Milicent had started unpacking her bandages and stitching needles. She was keeping her head down as she worked on him, averting her gaze from his face.

He could not blame her for it, but he had to admit that the waft of air on his face had an intoxicating feel after hours upon hours of treading through hot and humid tunnels. Though he was almost grateful for his lack of nose when he looked at the piles of filth surrounding them.

Speaking of those, as soon as the Leper was done getting patched up, Bigby walked out from one of them and approached him with something in his hand: “I don’t think you need to wear it, but if it makes you feel better, you can keep it.”. His bronze mask, still slightly stained with what looked like pig blood, but it seemed like the Abomination had tried to clean it the best he could with the rags on his back.

“... you went to look for it?” asked Baldwin as he took the piece of metal with slightly trembling hands, Bigby nodded: “I understand if you want to hide yourself. I just want you to know that … well, I don’t mind you taking it off.”.

Pulling back the few chains that had slipped off his shoulder, the scrawny man was about to walk away before the Leper spoke up as he grabbed a loaf of bread: “Won’t you stay by my side for supper?” he asked as he broke it in halves, offering one to his companion.

His answer was a small but grateful smile as Bigby sat himself next to Baldwin: “Thank you for this”.

The night in the Warrens felt less cold to the both of them with a shoulder to lean on.

Whatever happened with the Swine King, they were grateful for this moment.

[mimiswitchywrites]

Not A Burden: Chapter 11

TW: SH references, attempted s****de and references, child/s***al a**se references (not graphic but enough that could be triggering).

Period typical h***ph**ia and internalised, alcohol mentions?

Master list or read on AO3

2.4k words

If you want to be tagged for updates, message me or comment!

---------

Merlin left soon after Gwen, face void of emotion. Miriam tried to stop him before he left, wanting him to explain what she had done wrong, but he shrugged her hand away and walked, head forward.

She went to bed early, blowing out the candles and hiding under her blanket. Dreams plagued her – she saw the faces of every woman she had slept with. They laughed at her, threw stones, dragged her to the noose. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to be upset by this.

She deserved it.

She woke before the sun, throat tight, heart racing, mind numb.

The kitchens were quiet that day – there were no meetings with the King scheduled and so they were just preparing the usual meals of the day. Bea made small talk with her occasionally, but Miriam noticed that the cook was be short with her. Maybe Gwen or Merlin told her what happened last night.

She kept her head down and avoided people as much as possible – clearly, she had done something wrong, and she had no desire to make matters worse by saying something to the wrong person.

That it, until the after-luncheon break rolled around.

She was exhausted, sweat pooling on her forehead and chest. Her eyes were heavy from her restless sleep and she still couldn’t piece together which part of last night had led to such animosity within the kitchens. She couldn’t help but worry Bea wouldn’t want her working there formally and so, with little care left, Miriam did something terrible.

Juliana – a twenty something laundrette that was popping in for her own lunch – approached Miriam with a quizzical expression. She recognised Miriam after Lancelot pointed her out in the courtyard a few days prior and she could tell the woman was in distress. She walked towards the woman with trepidation – not wanting to spook her in her riled-up state. She was practically an arm’s length from her before she noticed.

Juliana was beautiful, that was the first thing Miriam thought. Not like Gwen, no, but the kind of beauty that one knows they have, the kind that one uses in their favour. Her cheek bones were high and fierce, eyes passionate. Her lips were rouged and plump – they reminded Miriam of this one apprentice she had worked along side almost five years prior.

“Hello.” Even her voice was attractive: soft and melodic but an undertone of something else. Something sensual. It brought a blush to Miriam’s cheeks.

“Hello yourself. Do you work here?” Juliana shook her head, mouth curving into a smile which Miriam found herself mimicking.

Juliana took another step forward, Miriam standing her ground. She lifted her head to look up at the stranger. “I work in the laundry. My name is Juliana.” She leant down, mouth brushing Miriam’s ear, “What’s yours?”

Miriam felt herself shiver at the sound, pulse racing. Her legs clenched at the tingles sparking between them. “Miriam.”

“Well, Miriam,” Juliana stepped back to look into Miriam’s eyes, “it has been a pleasure to meet you, but I must return to work. Unless you wish to do something else, that is?” Her smile was sly and knowing, eyes with a mischievous glint. Miriam found herself nodding before she even processed the question. She took Juliana by the hand and lead her through the kitchens, keeping an eye out for Bea who had disappeared outside for some fresh air. They arrived at the back of the long room, next to a small door: a storage cupboard. With one last glance behind her, Miriam pulled the pair inside and closed the door.

--

Gwen rubbed her eyes. Surely, after all that transpired last night, she was mistaken. She refused to accept that Miriam, the woman who tore her heart in half (whether knowingly or not) was taking Juliana by the hand and leading her towards the back storage room.

And yet, even after shaking her head, taking a deep breath, and rubbing her eyes again, that is exactly what she was seeing.

And oh, how it hurt.

After gathering all the food that had been requested and setting it neatly onto three separate plates, Gwen found her eyes drifting towards the cupboard again. She had tried with all her might to shut her eyes off to the sounds of pleasure emerging from inside as she grabbed rosemary from the hook beside the room, but she was still forced to hear more than she had wanted. Despite her anger, her pain, Miriam’s voice was clear, and it did things to Gwen’s body that she truly wished it wouldn’t. Even when moaning Juliana’s name, Miriam had a tremendous affect on the young serving girl.

Gwen hated it.

With tears in her eyes and a heart of lead, she balanced the plates across her arms and made her way towards the Lord’s room.

Luckily, Gwen bumped into Merlin before she got to her destination. He caught the trays (Gwen pretended she didn’t see the glow in his eyes) and, after straightening themselves out, he noticed the look in her eyes. The ways her eyes shook with tears and she was biting her lip – brows pulled taught. He immediately softened, shoulders relaxing to comfort her.

“What’s wrong, Gwen?” His voice was soft but laced with concern. It broke her. The flood gates opened and tears streamed down her face. She did her best to prevent herself from sobbing aloud – they were still in the corridor and she was meant to be on duty. He pulled her to the side as some Lady walked past, and gently wrapped his arms around her, placing the plates on the floor first. She sagged into his chest, shaking.

He rubbed his hand in circles over her back, whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

With a hiccough, Gwen pulled away, tears finally running dry. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and pushed the balls of her hands into her eyes to get rid of the wet. Her shoulders still shuddered slightly, and her breathing was irregular.

“I’m sorry, that was unprofessional of me,” she bent down, reaching for the plates to set on her way, “I shouldn’t have done that, I have work to do.” Merlin intercepted, grabbing her wrists softly.

He pulled her up to standing again, shaking his head at her. “Gwen, it’s okay, you don’t need to do anything. I am sure whoever was after food has ordered someone else to get it for them by now.” She bit her lip harder at this, hating the way it sounded like she had failed her duties. Hated the fact that she had failed them.

Sensing her train of thought, Merlin started up again, “You didn’t do anything wrong; you needed a break – it was a hard night. I’ll explain it to Steward if he asks, you’ll be fine.” She nodded, still unsure.

“Thank you, Merlin.” Her voice was thick with phlegm and tears.

He nodded, smiling down at her. “Now come on, let’s go sit down somewhere.”

“What about…?” She gestured to the plates.

Merlin shrugged, grinning mischievously, “Arthur hasn’t eaten yet, how about we eat like Lords and Ladies for the afternoon?” She gasped, eyes growing wide, before coughing out a laugh. She nudged him, nodding, and picked up two of the plates, leaving the third for Merlin to pick up.

They set off towards Arthurs room in silence, bumping into each other every few steps playfully. Gwen’s head hurt from crying so much over the last few days, but she was happy to know Merlin was still there for her. He always would be, she was sure of it. Her heart still stung from last nights discussion, and her whole chest felt like it was imploding as she played over what she saw and heard not even an hour before, but she had her friend with her and that was as good a distraction as any.

They arrived before she knew it, the walk a blur. Merlin barged in, as usual, and Gwen followed with as much dignity as she could draw together.

Arthur was sat behind his desk, hands together with chin resting on top. Her looked frustrated at the paper in front of him, but his face broke into a smile at Merlin’s arrival.

And then dropped slightly upon seeing Gwen. Or, the rational part of her mind interjected, at her puffy eyes and damp cheeks.

“Guinevere?” He looked over to Merlin, eyes racking over his face for answers, “What happened?”

Merlin set his plate on the table and took Gwen’s from her hands. She was frozen in spot, looking between the King and the floor. She was biting her lip again and beginning to taste blood. Without her noticing, Arthur approached and lifted Gwen’s chin so he could look into her eyes. There was so much pain in them, he noticed. He pulled her into a hug, chin resting on the top of her head. She sighed, out of tears.

“What happened, Guinevere?” His hands squeezed her arms in a comforting manner.

“She – Miriam – I--” She broke off, voice thick again.

Arthur pulled away, thumb rubbing over her cheek lovingly. Merlin watched from beside the table, looking just as concerned.

Gwen groaned, rubbing her hand over her face. She pulled back from Arthur and sank onto a chair with a thud. Merlin and Arthur quickly followed.

After devouring a hand of grapes, Gwen cleared her throat and began again. “Either last night was a total lie, or she is a hypocrite, and I truly can’t tell which.” Merlin stretched a hand across the table, rubbing hers. He nodded for her to continue. “I went to the kitchens to grab luncheon for Lord and Lady Tyrine and their daughter and while I was waiting for the meat to finish being cooked, I saw—” She took a deep breath, “Miriam and Juliana,” she couldn’t help the bitter way she spat her name, “sneak into the back cupboard. Yes, that one.” She directed the last part at Merlin who was shooting a questioning look at her. He nodded slowly, knowing exactly which one she meant but not quite sure he could accept it.

Arthur, who had rarely set foot in the kitchens, interrupted, “What is so important about this cupboard?” Merlin made a series of nods and eyebrow raises before Arthur took a deep inhale, piecing it together. “Oh, right.”

Gwen spitefully tore into her roll.

“But she said…”

Gwen nodded, “I know exactly what she said and yet, judging by the moans I heard, she either doesn���t believe any of the shit she said, or she does, and she is messing with Juliana’s heart.” And mine, she added to herself. She sighed; this was all just too much for her to handle. She had been barely holding herself together after Morgana and now this? She truly wasn’t sure if she would be able to cope with another interaction with the girl. The beautiful, funny, kind girl.

They sat in silence, absently picking at their food.

--

Miriam straightened Juliana’s skirts, getting off her knees and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. Both their faces were flushed, chests rising and falling quickly as they tried to catch their breaths. Turning around, Juliana took a strawberry from the box behind her elbow and places it between Miriam’s lips.

“So people don’t go smelling me on your breath.” She pulled the leaves away, replacing them with her own mouth and stealing a kiss. Miriam’s hands found Juliana’s waist and she pressed them both against the shelves again.

Slowly, she stepped back.

“It was nice to meet you, Miriam.” Juliana whispered, before poking her head out the door and stepping out, raising her hand is a brief wave and disappearing.

Miriam leant back, head resting on the wall. She groaned. She knew she shouldn’t have done that but when she had seen Gwen at the entrance to the kitchens, she couldn’t stop herself.

Oh, how she wished she’d stopped herself.

She brought her hands up to her face, rubbing her fingers in circles over her temples.

“Fuck.” She whispered to herself.

She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders and putting on a pleasant smile, and stepped out into the kitchens. Thankfully, no one seemed to see her leave and she returned to her station seconds before Bea came through the door again.

She kept her head down for the last few hours of work, picturing Gwen’s face the whole time. She didn’t think the girl had noticed them but what if she had? Could she apologise? Did she even need to? Gwen was obviously upset with her for what happened last night (she was no closer to putting together what that actually was) and so maybe it was best not to interact for a little while?

By the time she was let off work, she was practically shaking with unanswered questions. She stumbled up the stairs and through to the courtyard for some fresh air but stopped when she heard drunken shouts.

Drunk.

Gods above, how she wished she could be drunk right now. With a contemplative sigh and a hand running through her hair, she set off towards the lower town in search of a tavern or inn. She didn’t intend to drown her sorrows, merely dull them enough to get to sleep without dreams. She hated the dreams. Not just the nightmares (though she certainly hated them too), but the mundane dreams. The ones where she woke up next to a woman – someone kind and gentle and happy – and kissed her shoulder and cheek before getting out of bed. The ones where she would make them both breakfast and they would eat in bed and wash the pans before setting to work in the field while the woman – her woman – would sit behind the spinning wheel. The ones where she was happy.

The ache in her chest after she woke from those nights lasted all day.

Sometimes she would even forget her reality, confused for a moment upon waking, wondering where her woman had gone to, before realising that it wasn’t true.

She knew it should be a good thing that it was just a figment of her imagination, that she hadn’t attached herself to a woman like that, but it still hurt. And then with Gwen, someone who she wanted to be attached to like that…

She sighed.

[tiaragqueen]

Paroxysm

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Shinazugawa Sanemi x Maid! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,6k+

✂ Trigger Warning: Implied possessive behavior, death, violence, blood, injuries, yandere theme

[Edited]

***

I like his hairstyle and clothes, and I’d like it even more if he’s given a moment of happiness.

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“If life's standing still and your soul's confused, and you cannot find what road to choose. If you make mistakes, you can't let me down. I will still believe.” - At Your Side [The Corrs]

The war had long ended, and yet, the toll it left was still felt until today.

Being the daughter of the housekeeper who had been residing at Ubuyashiki estate since her early adulthood, you were already familiar with the existence of demon slayers and their stringent training, including the pillars themselves. Though, your knowledge of the latter was superficial at best. You only learned bits of their backgrounds, motives in joining the Corps – which, to your relief, were all noble unlike some slayers who only entered for the money – and combat styles. Your interaction was limited to some of the friendlier ones, such as Kyōjurō, Shinobu, Kanroji and, to some extent, Uzui.

Of course, you weren’t, by any means, despised the quieter ones. You occasionally had a lighthearted talk with Himejima and once shared a peaceful moment with Tokitō, whose death rattled you greatly for its macabre circumstances.

And yet, for some unknown reason, you ended up with Sanemi instead.

Perhaps, it was the pity that compelled you to work for him. After all, he had lost his remaining brother in the cataclysm of war against Muzan and his subordinates. Indeed, Sanemi might be the least amiable pillar, but he wasn’t a horrible person to be around. As long as you were mindful of his mood and not caused an unnecessary ruckus, Sanemi would treat you civilly.

Besides, he never really lashed out to you, anyway. Even when he was still in the Corps, and you happened to slip before his eyes, he would silently help you whilst muttering something about your clumsiness.

Overall, he was as aloof as he could be around females, and you delighted in that ‘mellow’ side of his.

Peeking through the doorway, you spied Sanemi in his usual spot on the porch and smiled slightly. It was relieving to see him become one with nature instead of wringing every last drop of stamina through incessant training. You slipped out and quietly kneeled beside him, respectful of the appropriate distance to avoid disturbing his restless equilibrium.

“Good afternoon, Shinazugawa-sama. Do you need something?” you asked cordially.

Sanemi merely stared forward as though he refused to acknowledge your presence, but you knew better. After the war, he had grown more sullen and distant to the point of ignoring the people around him, almost echoing Giyū himself. An inexplicable pang pervaded your body at the abject sight, and how it wouldn’t likely to change anytime soon.

It was a good thing you had experiences of housekeeping, otherwise, you might’ve incited his infamous ire with your callowness.

You shifted a little on your spot, dismissing his silence for rejection or dismissal. “Would you like a cup of tea? Or ohagi?” you pressed.

“… What’s your intention?”

Cocking your head, you hummed questioningly.

Sanemi slowly turned his head towards you, pale eyes attempting to discern your true motives.

“People don’t find me nice at all, and yet, you chose to work for me instead,” he explained, squinting slightly. Ah, so he did realize. “Are you pitying me?”

When you offered no response, he scoffed knowingly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think I can’t take care of myself? Why do you think I chose a small house for me?” he huffed. “I don’t need help from anyone.”

“But you accepted me.” you murmured.

Sanemi snapped his head in your direction. “What the hell was that?!” he growled.

You flinched. “I... I just want you to know that I understand your feelings.”

“You fucking know nothing!”

Cold fear throbbed your heart and rendered you motionless. Sanemi gradually recomposed and withdrew from the abrupt proximity of his face with yours, instead opting to direct his ferocious glare to the fence again.

Looking down to your lap, you slowly exhaled the anxiety.

“My father… He was killed, too. He was on the way to home after chopping some woods when he met a demon in the forest. I was a baby at that time, and we were very poor. It wasn’t until my mother met Ubuyashiki-sama did she finally have a stable job to feed us both.”

The recollection softened your gaze as you traced patterns on the floorboard.

“You’re right, Shinazugawa-sama. I know almost nothing about you aside from the general stuff, and I’ll never know the depth of your feelings. I don’t even know other pillars very well, and we often chat. But the grief, the sadness you’re feeling… I felt it too, and I still do sometimes.”

You took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that leaked through your lashes.

“Regardless of your opinion, Shinazugawa-sama, I’ll continue to support you. I can’t fight, and I don’t know how to wield a sword properly, but I hope my assistance can be of any comfort for you. We don’t even have to converse if that’s what you want. Just treat me like you usually do and I promise I won’t disturb your affairs.”

Sanemi was quiet through your story and retained a similar state when you bowed to him.

“I shall buy some red beans in the market. Please, excuse me.”

The market was animated as always. Children frolicked around while their mothers were preoccupied with bargaining and buying necessities. After fulfilling the task at hand, you decided to replenish your energy by strolling and observing the village. The advantages of working for Sanemi was the relative ease in maintaining the house than Ubuyashiki estate, and Sanemi himself wasn’t at all bothered to find you resting after completing your duty.

Some extra time for yourself was always a blessing, and you were glad to know that you’d picked the right choice.

“Why you look at that; a fair maiden walking alone in the forest.”

You blinked out of your trance and spotted a group of rugged men intercepted the beaten path. Assessing the looming danger, you mentally cursed yourself for getting distracted and warily retreated.

The tallest man, who you presumed to be the leader, hummed mockingly. “Where are you going, dear? The sun’s about to set, you know? The demons will come soon, so why don’t you join us? We’re on the way home.”

“I know that.” you snapped, keeping a cagey eye in case one of them decide to strike first. “And no, thank you for the offer. My master’s waiting for me, so I need to go now.”

A whiff of body odor clogged your nose as he began to advance, deliberately cornering you against a tree. “Aw… Surely they won’t mind me if I borrow you for a sec, right?” he cooed, clasping your chin in his rough fingers.

“… Like hell, I will.”

The neck that moved his revolting face closer to yours suddenly broke. Sanemi landed a few meters from you, his back facing the man who collapsed right before your very eyes. The sword you’d seen him holding and polishing regularly despite not being a slayer anymore trembled with barely restrained passion, the tip glinting under the fading sun.

He raised his head and smirked diabolically. “So, which one of your fuckers wants to move first?” he challenged.

When nobody dared to step forward upon sensing the egregious bloodlust practically radiating from his form, he grinned.

“No one? Well, that’s just too easy.”

His abrupt disappearance sparked dread within everyone’s chests, yours included. Your eyes frantically darted from one tree to another, hoping to catch a glance. Where was he? Was he leaving you? No, no, that was impossible. Why did he even bother to kill their leader if he would just leave you later? Besides, as bad as his attitude could be, Sanemi wasn’t the type to leave things half-assed.

So, where was he–?

A faint breeze hit the man furthest away from you. Your jaw slacked when Sanemi manifested behind him and swiftly sliced his head clean. The next person wasn’t able to react fast enough before Sanemi dropped to one knee and killed him. Granted, he was comparably leaner than the rest of his ‘companions’, but the sight of your master effortlessly slit his abdomen was just… appalling.

How hideous would it be if he were to face demons? You couldn’t even grasp the extent of his raw strength.

Sanemi rose to his feet in a single twirl and stabbed another man on the heart whilst kicking the last one unconscious. The deplorable man crumpled once Sanemi yanked the sword from his chest, and you would’ve joined him too had the tree wasn’t there to support you.

For a split second, you were glad that the leader tried to corner you earlier.

Under the setting sun, Sanemi merely stood among the bodies, chest heaving and sword bloody. You gazed at his back, reluctant to speak yet felt an uncontrollable need to state the obvious.

“You killed them.”

Gripping your kimono, you continued. “Y-you do know that they’re humans, right? Not demons…”

His silence skyrocketed your nerves. Finally, after a minute that dragged on for eternity, he opened his mouth.

“Anyone who hurts us is demons in my eyes.”

You withdrew against the bark as though it would hide you from his vacant yet penetrating look.

“Do you understand? Some humans aren’t all that different than demons. There's no point in pitying them.”

Sanemi sheathed his sword and nonchalantly walked past you, ignoring your stunned silence. “Wipe that pathetic look off of your face and let’s go home,” he demanded.

“B-but what about–?”

“The demons will eat them. Now, hurry up if you don't want to be their next meal.”

With a heavy heart, you averted your gaze from the massacre before you and nodded obediently.

“Yes, Shinazugawa-sama.”

Above, the moon gradually erased any trace of light from the view.

[awhitehead17]

Whumptober 2020: Day 5 - Where do you think you’re going? 

Prompt: On the run

Summary: When a bunch of thugs crash a gala, Tim and Damian find themselves running through corridors to escape them. It would be easy if they didn’t have different opinions on how to handle the matter. 

Enjoy! :D

“There is no reason for us to continue running Drake! We are more than capable of defeating three idiots with guns.”

Tim huffs in annoyance, that’s the fourth time Damian’s brought up the three men chasing after them with guns in less than 5 minutes.

Yes, they can in fact handle three idiots with guns. Yes, there was in fact a reason on why they had to continue running. 

Just over five minutes prior Tim had been having a normal night. The evening started out with him, Bruce and Damian all attending a charity gala in the heart of Gotham at a hotel, they didn’t want to go but being public figures meant that they needed make the appearance. As the three of them attended the gala, the rest of the family were on patrol duty as they wouldn’t be available.

Tim had been sipping a small glass of champagne, laughing without humour at dull stories by Gotham’s elite’s and counting down how long he had left until he could go back home, collapse on his bed and curl up in his blanket.

His night took an unexpected turn once he excused himself and went to the bathroom. He did his business but upon returning back to the function hall where the gala was, he found a handful of thugs with guns forcing everyone to their knees and barking out orders and threats. From where he had been standing, Tim couldn’t see Bruce, he didn’t know how the man wanted to play this. There’s no doubt about it, he’s already alerted Dick and Jason about what’s going on as soon as the thugs entered the room.

Just as Tim was about to make a disappearance act, he had been spotted. They shouted at him but in a spontaneous decision, he bolted. The thugs cursed and Tim could hear them instantly run after him. Tim sprinted down a corridor before turning onto another one, trying to make as much space between him and his pursuers as possible. It was a few moments later gun shots could be heard, Tim instinctively covers his head but doesn’t stop running.

He finds a stairwell and scrambles up the stairs to the next floor. The hotel was huge, surely there’ll be an easy way to lose them. It was on the next floor where he unexpectantly bumps into Damian. The boy had just strolled out one of the rooms when Tim came crashing onto the corridor.

Damian simply watches him with a look of something close to disgust as Tim does his best to avoid crashing into him. They stare at one another in question for a few beats.

Tim breaks the silence first. “What the hell you are doing up here brat?”

Damian narrows his eyes and glares at Tim. “I could ask you the same question Drake.”

Tim opens his mouth to retort however he doesn’t get the chance to because the door he burst through moments ago slams open and reveals the men he had been running from.

“There!” They point their guns at the two of them and open fire. Tim and Damian both duck the bullets and scramble away with Tim shouting, “That's why I’m up here!”

The two of them run together through the floors of the building trying to get away from their pursuers. Throughout that time Damian repeatedly brings up about fighting them, when he brings it up a fifth time, Tim’s had enough.

They’ve been running continuously for far too long and it’s only a matter of time until one of them gets hits by a stray bullet. They’re lucky they haven’t been hit yet, but Tim knows their luck is wearing thin.

When they get onto the next floor Tim makes a decision and stops running, he grabs the back of Damian’s suit and drags him into a small closet. It wasn’t ideal but they couldn’t keep on running forever. The closet had shelves lining two walls which were stacked with towels but other than that it was empty. The door in front of them was solid with no way to look in or out, the only gap it offered was the tiny one at the bottom where the door doesn’t quite reach the floor.

“Why are we hiding? Hiding is for cowards, we can fight them and take them out.” Damian scoffs after a few moments of silence.

Tim takes a deep breath in attempts to control his anger before turning to face his brother behind him. “We can’t fight them because right now we’re not vigilantes. Instead we’re Wayne's, who don’t know how to fight.”

Damian scowls, “Tt. This is a disgrace to the family name!”

Tim opens his mouth to retort but commotion coming from outside of the closet they’re in gets his attention instead. Though it’s slightly muffled, there’s no mistaking it that the noise was their pursuers, they were being incredibly loud and obnoxious as they make their way through the corridors. Tim holds his breath and prays they simply walk past this closet.

“Hiding in a closet is dishonourable and I will not stand for this!”

Suddenly Tim is shoved out of the way as Damian barges pat him and towards the door. Just outside of the closet the men were getting louder meaning they were getting closer. There’s no way Tim could let Damian jump out of the closet, it would end terribly for them whether they get out of the situation injured or not. There was just too much at risk.

As Damian reaches for the door, Tim lunges forward and grabs the collar of his suit. He yanks Damian towards him and wraps his arms around the kid, slapping a hand over his mouth and using his other arm to restrain him.

Damian thrashes in his hold, trying to fight him to get free but Tim simply holds him tighter. Just before the kid could make any noise, Tim ducks his head so he could talk into Damian’s ear.

At a low, hushed whisper he hisses, “If you make a sound, we’re good as dead. If they open that door we have nowhere to run or hide. We’re Wayne’s right now and we don’t know how to fight, we’re vulnerable rich civilians, if we were in our suits then yes we could take them.

Use your brain Damian. We are not in a position to fight. No doubt about it that Dick and Jason are on their way here now. Do not put us in a jeopardising position because you couldn’t handle the idea of ‘looking weaker’.”

Once he was done talking Tim stays silent, glaring at the side of Damian’s head and waits for him to do something. It looks like he’s using his common sense because the kid stays silent, not even making a peep to argue against Tim’s words. Tim removes the hand from Damian’s mouth but keeps the restrictive hold on him.

From outside the closet the men could be heard stomping past their location and down the corridor. Tim doesn’t let Damian go until he’s absolutely certain they’ve disappeared, when he does finally let the boy go, he pushes Damian behind him and goes to the door, gently pushing it open enough so he could peek out into the corridor. Sure enough the coast was clear. Tim opens the door wider and gestures to Damian.

“Come on, lets go find a computer and work out what’s going on while we wait for the others to arrive.”

Without waiting for the kid, Tim starts heading down the corridor where they originally came from. he gets a few feet ahead when he’s called for.

“Drake.” Tim stops and turns around, he watches as Damian strides to meet him and as he carries on past him, Tim quickly continues to walk to meet his pace. “I realise that my actions were irrational and not thought through at all.”

Tim looks down at him with surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that, however that seems to be all that Damian was offering up because he doesn’t elaborate.

They get to the end of the corridor and together they start making their way down the stairs, staying alert for any potential thugs lingering around. Tim takes the lead on the stairs as he does he glances over his shoulder at Damian behind him.

“I know it’s hard Damian. Trust me, I do know. It takes every inch of your willpower to stop yourself from lashing out at the nearest guy with a gun, fully knowing you can take him out in a heartbeat. It’s impossible to just stand by, to act scared and pretend everything you train for day in and day out doesn’t exist. But we do it because it protects us, it protects our family and everyone we know who aren’t in the capes community. Us especially, have an image to maintain where our secret is the most important thing to keep.”

Tim takes a deep breath and very pointedly keeps his gaze ahead of him. “I’m proud you choose to stand by, it was a mature decision to make. Bruce and Dick will be proud too.”

There was silence behind him, not that Tim had been expecting Damian to respond to him. There was a lot of emotion packed into that speech, a lot more than Tim would rather there be but it’s all true.

Eventually Damian seems to want to respond because a couple floors later he says, “Thank you Drake. Both father and Grayson have been trying to help me understand why it’s important that we maintain a public image despite how infuriating it is. You have also helped that knowledge come along.”

Tim doesn’t say anything to that. He doesn’t really know what to say. Damian was thanking him, Christ the world must be ending.

“Now get a move on Drake, we’re wasting time when we could be making ourselves much more useful, even in these personas we play.”

That makes Tim grin, it’s something he can easily agree to. “Let’s go.”

[yankyo]

Kto yest’kto

Warning: you get fucked by the Russian clones 

   You knew why you suddenly had this array of bodyguards, despite your insistence that you didn’t need them. Zhuk was a worrywart and after the last attempt on your life by one of his enemies, your protests had gone largely ignored as he summoned a minute army of look-alikes to protect you when he had to go on his business trips. If it weren’t for the still healing scar on your side from a stray bullet, you might’ve fought harder, but you also couldn’t deny that having them there made you feel less lonely when Zhuk had to be gone for an extended period of time. And their striking resemblance to the man you called Muzh made it all the better. Each one was different, and while they looked like Zhuk, they had their own distinct personalities that you were rapidly beginning to find endearing.

   That day, you were busy in the kitchen, trying to make enough food for your eight companions with a chatty helper at your side. He had introduced himself as Pchelka and once you learned that his name translated to bee, you couldn’t agree more. He flitted from task to task with glee, talking all the while, his voice a soft, pleasant hum as he made sure everything was prepped and ready to be passed on to you. He was as sweet as honey, and when you spoke up to tell him that, he flushed a gentle pink every single time. You took to dropping compliments without warning just to see him flush and vibrate happily - truly he could not get more adorable.

   “Taste!” He held out a spoonful of icing, you inspected it for a moment before you leaned in and ran your tongue through the confection, letting out a soft, pleased hum.

   “Very good! I think we only had a few more minutes til the cupcakes come out of the oven.” At the sound of ‘cupcakes’ another head poked its way into the kitchen, spiky hair flashing happily at the prospect of sweets.

   “Almost done?” Oh. Oh dear, what was this clone’s name again?

   “We have to let the cupcakes cool before we put the icing on, Soyka.” You guessed the name and your heart sank as the clone’s smile fell from his face.

   “Khame.” He corrected, a flash of purple shooting through his hair. Shit. The guilt that rocketed through you had you turning on your heel to approach him, apologizing profusely.

   “Khame, right! I’m sorry!” In hindsight, only Khame had a collar around his neck and his hair was a lot spikier than Soyka’s. “Come here,” You held your arms open for him, and though his ears were drooping sadly, he approached you and leaned in to rest his head on your shoulder as you hugged him. “I’m really sorry, I’m still learning everyone’s name.” It wasn’t an excuse and didn’t make you feel any less guilty. “Why don’t you stay here with us, I’ll let you try the first cupcake!” Your bribe was taken with exuberance, green and pink returning to his hair. Better, much better. But by the counter, Pchelka was looking at Khame with thinly veiled envy as the clone nuzzled up against you, his purr strong enough to shake both of you. Oh goodness, you give one clone attention for just a moment and the others got so sulky, it would be more annoying if they weren’t so gosh darned cute - and if you didn’t realize just how touch starved each clone must be. “Come on in, Pchela,” you crooned and he wasted absolutely no time in closing the distance and joining his fellow clone in the hug. You might’ve stood there with the purring clones forever, but before long, the oven dinged and Khame was practically pressed against it, eager for his treat.

   While you pulled back to grab the oven mitts, Pchelka was at the oven to pull out the tray of cupcake with his bare hands, seemingly unaware of the way his flesh began to boil in response, Your shriek, however, seemed to startle him enough to drop the tray on the counter. You rushed forwards to check on his hands, wincing at the sight of the clearly burned flesh. “Pchelka!” You scolded, and though the clone was much taller than you were, he shrank back at your tone. “Khame, I’m going to take him down to Ren, watch over the cupcakes for me. You can only have one.” He gave an obedient nod and salute, which you rewarded with a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, make sure the others don’t eat them before dinner, ok?” And with that, you left the pink haired clone to his duty while you all but dragged a droopy Pchelka behind you. “I know you can’t feel it, but you can’t just grab stuff from the oven like that!” You lectured as you walked, the curly haired clone didn’t respond, but when you turned your head to look back at him, he gave a small nod, clearly just upset with himself. Your heart clenched at the sight, but you didn’t back down just yet. Your biggest rule was for them not to hurt themselves unnecessarily. It was bad enough that they were more than ok with the idea of getting hurt to protect you, it was bad enough that each clone held scars just like their boss, you weren’t just going to sit back and watch them hurt themselves any more.

   Ren had set up shop in the typically unused med bay, being one of the only clones able to tell what everything did. He was one of the easiest clones to tell simply because he looked exactly like your Zhuk, the only difference was that his expression was softer and more relaxed than your stern faced lover. Though as you told him what Pchelka had done, his scowl was identical to Zhuk’s, so much so that even the much taller clone at your side winced at the sight of him.

   “Durak, pytayas’ proizvesti na nikh vpechatleniye snova?” Your lessons in Russian were slow going, but you knew a scolding when you heard one.

    "Mne zhal'. YA prosto khotel proizvesti na nikh vpechatleniye, ya ne dumal." His head hung low, his ears drooping even lower as Ren tsked softly.

    “I’ve got this idiot, go. Finish what you were doing.” His tone held no room for argument and you really did need to make sure Khame was following instructions and not inhaling all of the cupcakes. And while you were cooking a hearty stew, you didn’t want to leave it cooking without supervision for too long.

    “I’ll see you both at dinner?” They both gave a nod, and since Pchelka looked just too pitiful sitting there, you couldn’t help but step in to give him a kiss on the cheek before turning and doing the same to Ren before you left the clones, not seeing them both slowly turn pink.

    The hallway was almost silent, save for the sound of piano coming from the smoke room. You wracked your brain for the name, not wanting to get it wrong this time. Dzhaz? Right? There was only one clone with that amount of musical talent after all, that you had learned after hearing the beautiful melodies echoing off of previously silent walls. Piano, trumpet, harp, truly, any instrument that fell into his hands he seemed to be able to play with relative ease. You knew you should hurry to the kitchen, but instead you peeked your head into the smoke room to see the clone sitting at the piano, his fingers almost flying over the keys as he played an intricate melody.

    “tebe chto-to nuzhno, pevchaya ptitsa?" He didn’t even look up, didn’t pause in his playing. You hoped you were pronouncing this right with all of your heart,

    “Hey, Dzhaz, I don’t need anything, I just heard the music and got curious.” He finally looked back at you, a soft smile on his face as he gestured for you to come forwards and sit on the bench with him.

    “Where is your guard?” He asked, glancing behind you as if searching for Pchelka. It wasn’t an odd reaction, ever since they had been called out, Pchelka had been a constant presence at your side, even crawling into bed besides you at night to keep you company until you fell asleep.

    “on s Ren, pridurok poranilsya, pomogaya im ispech'.” The voice from behind you made you jolt, but it was just another clone, their name escaped you. They were taller, but it clearly wasn’t Khame. Soyka? Zekon? Cici? Almost as if they could sense your brain going haywire, they leaned forwards in a little half bow, extending their hand out to you to take. “Cici,” They introduced themself, a small grin curling at your lips as your cheeks burned with color. “Pchela slishkom sil'no tebya monopoliziruyet, ne tak li, Dzhaz? My by uzhe sozhgli nashi imena v vashem mozgu, yesli by oni ne byli dlya vashey storozhevoy sobaki." Though you couldn’t understand exactly what they were saying, something about their sultry purr made your blush all the darker.

    “Vy dumayete, yesli by my zastavili ikh krichat' nashi imena dostatochno raz, oni by pomnili?" They had you just about cornered, Dzhaz’s hand falling from the piano to wrap around your waist and pull you in ever closer to his body, Cici leaning over the both of you, his arms resting against the piano to fully cage you in. “Are you scared, little bird?” Dzhaz’s melodious voice in your ear came with a rush of heat, oh... this was new. Sure, you would give chaste kisses here and there and you slept the past few nights cuddling Pchelka, but this was something entirely different. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that they would be attracted to you in that sense. But in that moment, all you could think about was how long it had been since Zhuk had touched you, how good they both smelled, how it would feel if they held you in their arms... Dzhaz leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing your cheek. “malen'kaya ptichka, takaya myagkaya i teplaya. my by pogubili tebya." He murmured, his tone making you shiver.

    “I really should be going, I left Khame alone in the kitchen.” You whispered, unable to deny the tremor going through you, or the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. For a moment, neither of them moved and your nerves shot straight up, but they both smoothly leaned away with matching smiles.

    “You really should check on him before he eats all of the food by himself.” Cici gave your head a soft kiss and Dzhaz settled back at the piano to continue the melody he was playing before. “We’ll see you at dinner time, dragotsennyy.” Though your legs trembled, you nodded and returned their smile before you fled the room, trying to quiet your still pounding heart. Calm, calm. They were certainly just playing with you, Zhuk had warned you that some of the clones were more mischievous than others, after all. They were just playing a prank on the boss’s lover, nothing more. But your blush wasn’t diminishing in the slightest and you couldn’t get the mental image on them bending you over the piano and taking you right then and there out of your head. Thankfully, the rest of the trip back to the kitchen went without fanfare, though as you neared the kitchen, you could hear two arguing voices, one you recognized as Khame.

    “I just want a taste!” Someone wailed,

    “NO! I was told to guard the food until Boss’s mladentsy came back!” Khame yelled back, a growl in his voice that made your hair stand straight up.

    “Just what is going on here?” You burst into the kitchen to find Khame brandishing a knife at... process of elimination told you Soyka. You had seen these two side by side more than once, usually getting along as thick as thieves. Khame’s face brightened at the sight of you,

    “He’s trying to sneak a taste while you’re gone!” He was quick to throw his fellow clone under the bus, throwing out an arm to point at him.

   “He was eating cupcakes!” Soyka yelled back, a scowl on his usually cheeful face. The clones hissed at one another, seemingly a moment away from a full force battle.

    “Cupcakes? You were supposed to only eat *one*!” You turned to Khame first, who shrunk under your stare.

   “.....They were good!” Came his quiet protest, a small pout on his face. You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, just staring down these gigantic babies.

    “Soyka, he was allowed a single cupcake, so you can have one too. The rest is for after dinner tonight.” The taller clone’s face lit up happily and he gave a little wriggle that made it very hard to keep your stern expression. “But! You have to help me ice the rest, both of you.” You might as well told them you were going gold mining because they both responded with the same amount of excitement. They took some convincing to get them to wash their hands, but once they were clean, you settled at the table with the cupcakes laid out before you and a big bowl of icing that all three of you pulled from. After he inhaled his singular cupcake, you found Soyka to be a hard worker, icing the cupcakes with quick, fluid motions that you couldn’t copy no matter how hard you tried. Khame, on the other hand, struggled between accidentally tearing the cupcakes with his strength and the desire to just eat the icing, but before long, they were all done and put aside for dinner tonight. You half expected them to leave when the job was done, but they hung around instead, watching you flit across the kitchen as you checked in on the stew. As you stirred the large pot, a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and Soyka rested his head on your shoulder, a soft purr emanating from his large form.

    “It smells good.” He mumbled, though as he nuzzled against your hair and inhaled, you began to wonder if he wasn’t actually talking about the stew. Khame whined from the sidelines, stepping in to attach himself to you as well and once again, you found yourself trapped between two clones. “Pchelka’s been hogging you all to himself.” Soyka whined, “We wanna be able to hold you at night too!”

    "on govorit, chto my slishkom mnogo, no my tebe nravimsya, verno?" Khame’s rumbling purr mixed with the way he was nuzzling against you was making you tremble again. “on dazhe ne zastavlyal tebya chuvstvovat' sebya khorosho! boss ostavil vas vsekh nayedine s tem, chtoby nikto ne trogal vas!" Sharp teeth gently trailed across your shoulder, up to your neck and you trembled at the sensation.

    "my byli by tak khoroshi my budem zabotit'sya o tebe vsyu noch' naprolet, chtoby ty ni o chem ne mechtal." You decided you didn’t want to know what it was they were saying, because you knew if you did, you would already be putty in their hands - more so than you were as it was.

    “boss byl zhadnym, derzhal vas vsekh pri sebe."

   "my umeyem delit'sya Ne tak, kak drugiye, my byli by tak khoroshi dlya vas." You should really take control of this situation. The joke was clearly being taken too far at this point and... and... Soyka fell to his knees in front of you, Khame taking his place behind you.

    “Just a taste? A little taste? We promise we’ll be good.” Soyka shuffled in closer, his hands hovering over your thighs as if asking for permission, behind you, Khame nibbled his way down your neck, his arms wrapped around your midsection, pulling you against a surprisingly firm body. Oh. Oh this wasn’t a joke. Your breath was caught in your throat, the implications of the situation racing through your brain. This wasn’t cheating? Was it? You shared Zhuk with four other dons, after all, your status as poly never posed a problem before and they were a part of him, right? And fuck you wanted to. Soyka’s tongue was almost lolling out of his mouth and Khame was shifting his hips back and forth, clearly wanting to grind against you but holding back until he got an ok. You wanted to. Just a little. It had been so long since you had been touched, days before your last attack and every time Zhuk had seen the wound at your side, he had pulled back with a guilty expression, even almost fully healed and scarring the sight of it made him wince. Weeks upon weeks of forced abstinence and trying to ignore the dreams of Zhuk hovering above you, his lips cold on your heated skin as he kissed his way down between your thighs and...

    “Yes.” You couldn’t resist and with that one word, both clones were on you. Khame sank razor sharp teeth into your skin and Soyka scrambled to pull down your pants, his nails scratching your thighs in his excitement. Before you could try and get any sort of handle on the situation, he buried his face between your thighs, sharp teeth nibbling at previously clear skin and his tight grip keeping you from trying to pull away as his cold tongue began to lap at you through your underwear. Behind you, Khame wasted no time in pulling up your shirt, his hands slowly making their way up your body even as he tasted your skin all the while both of them purred as if gifted with their favorite treat. You reached out a hand to run your fingers through Soyka’s hair, cooing your appreciation as his tongue began to worm its way past your underwear to taste you directly, his pupils blown out with excitement. After a moment, he pulled back to pull your underwear down as well, raising one of your thighs to set it on his shoulder before he was back on you again, his tongue writhing against you in ways that had you squirming in Khame’s arms. In fact, if it weren’t for the clone behind you, you might’ve fallen to the ground already, but Khame’s grip didnt falter in the slightest, easily holding you up with just one hand as the other trailed sharp nails across the curve of your hip, along your ribs and up to your chest to toy with your nipples. A warbling cry escaped you despite your best efforts to keep quiet and you could just feel both of them smirk against your skin.

    "Chto tut proiskhodit?" You couldn’t have pulled free from their arms if you tried, and as shaky as your legs felt in that moment, even if you did you would have fallen into a puddle at their feet. Pchelka peered around Khame, his expression blank as he regarded you, but as you whined his eyes began to smolder and he reached out a hand to cup your cheek. “YA dumal, my dogovorilis' podozhdat', poka Boss vernetsya domoy?" His tone was scolding, but not so much that either of the clones even pretended to stop toying with you. “I’m sorry, dragotsennyy, they’re a bit impatient.” He leaned in to kiss you softly, smiling as you moaned against his lips. “We planned on waiting for Boss to come home to taste you, but I’m sure the wait was painful for you as well.” There was a playfulness to his tone that made you blush, but he was joining Khame in kissing your neck, his hand trailing down your body to rub your arousal even as Soyka licked you. “It’s been hard holding back myself, holding you against me like I have every night.” They pulled back just a fraction to pull off the rest of your clothing, leaving you bare in the middle of the kitchen. You couldn’t even try and cover yourself before they were on you again, Soyka took both of your thighs to place over his shoulders, Pchelka was kissing his way up your midsection and Khame pulled your head to the side to kiss you, his tongue worming its way into your mouth, tasting of the icing you just made. “We should call the others, you know there will be a fuss if they find out we had the first taste.”

    “They smell of Jazz and Cici, I bet those two tried to get a head start already.” One of your hands were pulled behind you to feel Khame’s hard on through his pants.

    “My dolzhny pozvolit’ Oca a takzhe Zakon znat’.” You wanted to whine when Soyka pulled away, but thankfully just as quickly as he pulled back, he was on you once again.

    "Oca dazhe pokazhet svoye litso? Vy znayete, kak zastenchivyy bol'shoy paren'." While he seemed to agree with Khame, Pchelka pulled back to let out a long, piercing whistle that vibrated through the manor. Silence fell for a few tense moments, the clones all stilling their movements to listen in before a series of poofs outside the door made them all give a savage grin.

    "ty nachal bez nas?"

    "o, oni tak khorosho "

    "pakhnut oni na vkus tak zhe khorosho?" The series of voices descended on you, sharp grins and glowing amber eyes looking you up and down with hunger.

    “To think we held back, we could’ve had you spread over the piano.” Slender fingers tilted up your chin.

    “Cici?” He frowned, those fingers sliding down to your neck.

    “They’re having some trouble remembering our names.”  Dzhaz commented, Khame nodded behind you, his grin growing.

    “We really should make sure they know our names, make sure they never forget it.” You were being carried back to the table now, too many hands to count maneuvering you so that you were bent over the table. Eight clones stood around you, towering over you even if you weren’t bent as you were.

    "dragotsennaya veshch'. my mogli by razorvat' ikh na chasti, dazhe ne pytayas'" a feminine voice spoke from in front of you, long elegant fingers tilting up your chin to regard you with glittering eyes. “Who am I?” They asked. Cici or Lex. You had a fifty fifty shot here, but as you mulled over the option, another clone raked their claws down your back, soft enough not to draw blood, but firm enough that it made you cry out. “Lex!” The clone before you smiled and cooed at you sweetly, running gentle fingers through your hair. “Very good!” As you were being held, you couldn’t see who it was that was stroking your arousal from behind, but you moaned your appreciation anyways - even if it ended far too quickly as another clone took Lex’s place.

    “Who am I?” This one was easy, dog collar.

    “Khame!” He smiled as well, and a cold tongue lapped at your entrance now, unyielding hands spreading your legs so they could push their tongue into you so deep you cried out. Another clone took Khame’s place, tall, curly hair, intimidating. Not Pchelka. You wracked your brain for the name and with your silence, the clone eating you out pulled back. The clone before you unbuttoned his pants and reached in to pull out a truly intimidating cock, bigger than any you had ever seen in your life. He tapped the tip of his cock against your lips, his intention clear, but it took you a moment to open your trembling lips.

    “Oca.” He rumbled above you as his cock pressed past your lips and deeper into your mouth, your jaw already beginning to ache at the sheer size of him. He took his time, slow, careful thrusts that didn’t press in too deep for you to handle, his touch gentle as he pet your hair. You half expected him to continue using your mouth until he came, but before long he was pulling back, giving your head one more pat. “Ok?” You nodded and he gave you a gentle smile.

    “Oca.” His smile grew, his eyes twinkling. He stepped aside and let another clone take his place. This time was another easy one, Pchelka, and as you guessed correctly, once again you were treated with a tongue at your entrance, quickly followed by fingers stretching you out for them. The tongue was longer, thinner, but it rubbed against your walls so exquisitely you could have cried. Another clone, another correct guess of Soyka and finally a cock pressed up against you from behind. A hand ran up your back to lace in your hair and pull your head back with an unforgiving grip.

    “Who am I?” The melodious voice gave it away, but as the clone slammed into you all the way to the base, you couldn’t get the word out. He pulled out slowly, letting you feel each inch of his cock leaving you again until just the tip of his cock was inside of you. “Who am I” He repeated the question, his voice low and dangerous.

    “Dzhaz!” You cried out this time and he rewarded you by slamming into you once more, setting a fast, hard pace that had you seeing stars. Cold fingers cupped your jaw, the touch soft and tender.

    “Open your eyes, dragotsennyy.” His voice was tender, so sweet despite his striking resemblance to your usually stony faced husband.

    “Ren?” You were rewarded with a kiss now and you clung to his gentleness as Dzhaz took you so roughly. Ren crooned, petting your hair and seemingly content to just stand there, but you took him by surprise by pawing at his pants, easily unbuttoning them to pull out his cock. Your mouth was watering as you pulled him in by his hips, easily swallowing his cock to the base and reveling in his surprised groan. Stuck between the clones, you closed your eyes and just focused on the sensations, not even blinking as your hands were pulled from Ren and instead brought to already leaking cocks.

    “I’d complain if you weren’t such a pretty sight.” Process of elimination told you it was Cici still waiting to be named, but they didn’t seem to be in even the slightest bit of a hurry. Instead, they smiled at you and stroked their hand over your back. “So pretty. Are you about to cum for us? Cum all over Dzhaz’s cock?” Your answering moan was muffled by the cock in your mouth, but he nodded all the same, “Come on Dzhaz. We want to see them cum already,” You could feel the clone’s excitement in the air, Dzhaz grabbed onto your waist to hold you in place for him to really begin to thrust into you, his hand reaching around you to rub you in time with his thrusts, not relenting even as you began to squirm and cry out with your approaching orgasm. When you were finally thrown off the edge, you pulled back from Ren to cry out loud, especially as Dhzaz continued to take you without mercy, pushing you to the point of overstimulation until he finally stopped, his grip so tight on your hips that you knew there would be bruises left. You let out a warbling cry as he came inside of you, holding you still until he stopped twitching inside of you. Slowly, he pulled out of you and let you fall limp onto the table. You were caressed on all sides, hands stroking your back, your thighs, your head, your cheeks, all crooning at you in a mixture of Russian and English. Hazy eyes focused on Pchelka, who was brushing his fingers through your hair sweetly.

    “Are you alright?” He asked, his voice so soft and gentle you melted. You gave a soft nod and a devious smile spread across his face. “Good, because we aren’t done yet.”

[msiopao]

The One with their Baby Ducklings

pairing: namjin x maknae line (ft. uncles sope)

summary: after the disaster, nobi realizes that they are all namjin’s baby ducklings that have been following them since the very beginning

Yelling.

That was the first thing jungkook heard when he woke up. judging by the sound of the voice, it must’ve been jin and he was angry. this time, he was very pissed off and jungkook wanted to stay inside his room to avoid the wrath of jin, even though he doesn’t even know what caused it. the words sounded muffled and he was confused with what happened but something inside told him it was something he wouldn’t want to hear.

“SERIOUSLY! YOU SHOULDN’T DO SOMETHING YOU DON’T KNOW WITHOUT SOMEONE WHO KNOWS HOW TO HANDLE THE SITUATION IF TURNED FOR THE WORST!”

“YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN HURT! THANK GOD THE CABINETS ARE NOT WOODEN OR OUR HOUSE WOULD’VE BURNED DOWN!”

“YOU SHOULD’VE CALLED ME TO TELL ME WHAT YOU WERE WANTING TO DO SO I COULD TELL YOU HOW TO DO IT PROPERLY AND SAFELY!”

“DO YOU KNOW HOW MY HEART STOPPED WHEN JIMIN CALLED ME ALL FRANTIC AND SCARED?!”

“I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU!”

a knock from his door made him jump and he burrowed under the covers to hide from his oldest hyung but peeked his head out when he heard the second oldest’s voice.

“Kook?” Yoongi’s voice came through from the other side of the door. “you awake?”

“ah hyung, i think he’s still sleeping.” That was the voice he recognized to be hobi’s.

“are you serious? after all that, he’s still sleeping.”

jungkook stood up to go to the door and he slowly opened it to peek out and see the faces of yoongi and hoseok.

“oh, jungkook!” hobi whisper-yelled and jungkook smiled. “can we come in? we’re not exactly comfortable being out there right now.”

the youngest made way for the older two to enter and they sat on nobi’s bed while jungkook laid on his.

“what happened?” jungkook asked.

hobi laughed while yoongi let out a small chuckle. “it appears while hyung and i were out, the other 3 caught the kitchen on fire.”

with the mention of ‘fire’, jungkook turned around and wildly looked at them. “fire? is nobi okay?”

“seriously, we tell him the kitchen bursted into flames and the first thing he cares about is nobi.”  yoongi’s quiet complains made jungkook quietly growl causing yoongi to wave him off quietly. “yes, she’s okay. but right now, i think she most prefers the flames over her yelling mother out there.”

“apparently, to what we heard jimin say, they wanted to make chicken but they left the oil for too long and caused a grease fire,” hoseok explained.

“ah, seriously. asami sakura,” jungkook groaned and slapped his hand against his forehead.

“you know, when we passed by, nobi was close to crying.” yoongi hit the back of hoseok’s head for the careless confession.

“yah, don’t say that to him,” he quietly scolded causing the younger to mumble an apology. they nervously looked at jungkook, expecting a glare due to how territorial he was to the girl.

“what he meant to say was that nobi’s feeling sorry and i think she was just shaken up.”

“i’m going out there,” jungkook stood up but the other two held him down.

“no. you’ll be roped into a situation you have no business in being in so just stay in here until everything is re-solved,” hoseok reasoned. it didn’t go well with the youngest.

“if the 3 of them almost burned the dorm to the ground, don’t you think it’s an issue we should re-solve by talking it out as a group?”

yoongi and hoseok looked at each other in defeat, knowing that there was nothing else they could say without jungkook arguing with them.

...

nobi sat on the beige couch, fingers fidgeting slightly and hair fanning the sides of her face as if it was an attempt to hide in shame. taehyung and jimin were both looking at the floor, head hanging in shame.

“what were you all thinking just cooking something like that out of the blue?” jin asked angrily, draped over the loveseat with his leg on top of his knee. his voice was hoarse from all the yelling and scolding. “you could’ve gotten badly hurt! burned!”

“it wasn’t their fault, hyung.” nobi looked up to meet his eyes. “i asked them and it’s all my fault. i couldn’t wait for you to come home and i really wanted to try something new.”

“what do you mean ‘something new’? you help me cook all the time!” jin said.

“i wanted to cook something for you and showcase what i’ve learned from you,” nobi mumbled. “i’m sorry, hyung.”

namjoon looked at jin and he nodded. “listen, you three. sure, we’re angry and we’re mad. but we were just worried because you didn’t know how to put it out and we don’t know what we would do if you got hurt. you’re more than our members and co-workers. you’re our family, you guys. do you understand?”

tears gathered in her eyes at her leader’s words as there was no one else she wanted to impress. he’s her idol and him telling her that was enough to get the waterfall to spill down her face.

“i understand that it was an accident and you were just trying to eat something. but, dear god, i will never forgive myself for leaving you here and being hurt because i wasn’t here,” jin sighed.

“your lives are our top priority and we will do anything to keep you from hurting yourselves anymore than you have.”

the appearance of the last 3 members from the hallway made everyone look at them and jungkook immediately stuck himself beside nobi on the space that taehyung made by scooting to the edge of the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“sorry i wasn’t awake to help,” he mumbled to which she just smiled softly.

“you would’ve probably made it worse.”

“i’ll just ask this: are you guys okay?” yoongi asked, the slightest tone of worry in his voice.

“yea,” the maknae line, minus jungkook, replied quietly.

“a fire. thank god for the fire extinguisher,” jin kept muttering.

“that must’ve been the feeling that we felt!” hoseok giggled at the unfamiliar dread in the pit of his stomach earlier. “yoongi-hyung and i had this weird sense of dread and we thought we were going crazy!”

“i think something was trying to tell us it was a fire since the song played in my speakers,” yoongi added.

“maybe fate was trying to tell us you were in trouble?” hoseok wondered. “sorry your uncles weren’t there to help, kids.”

“you’re not our uncles, hyung.” jimin’s comment made the self-proclaimed uncles look at him wildly causing him to stutter out, “more like,,, cousins?”

“either way, we apologize for not being there to help you.”

“shouldn’t you have called me first though, asami sakura?” yoongi pointed, fake hurt plastered on his face.

namjoon and jin shared a look that meant they were done with this whole thing. but they appreciated the others’ attempt of lightening up the mood.

“you should be punished for this whole thing,” jin said causing the three to deflate. “but since it was an accident and you didn’t meant to, i won’t make it very harsh. just cleaning up this mess and dish duty for 3 months, one for each of you. and you 3 aren’t allowed to be at home without one of us to stay behind.”

surprise was evident on their faces as they were expecting something harsh like cleaning the whole dorm but hey, they’ll take just dish duty. they were grateful for jin’s understanding as the situation wasn’t in their control and they couldn’t help the fire from happening.

“namjoon, you stay here while i go take a bath. good lord, i need a nice bath to calm myself,” jin stood up and walked to the hallway. “my heart is still beating.”

“i woke up to him. but at least he got it out of his system by screaming and yelling,” jungkook explained.

nobi was still quiet but she moved closer to his side and he tightened his hold around her.

“i think i’m spiderman,” hoseok massaged his chest, on top of where his heart was supposed to be. “like i got his instictual feeling!”

“no, you are anpanman.”

jimin’s quiet retort made the others chuckle and namjoon observed his little family.

the mood has turned from dark to light in a matter of minutes and jin returned with his signature pink hoodie and grey sweats while running his hands through his hair.

“since you’re hungry and you weren’t able to eat, we’ll just order chicken. no cooking from now on! you’re not allowed to be near the stove! 6 feet apart between you and the stove!” jin warned and the three nodded.

“accidents happen, you guys. but we just have to continue moving forward while making changes to make sure this doesn’t happen again,” namjoon smiled which soothed the remaining fear in her stomach.

jimin, taehyung, and nobi thought the same thing as they looked at their mother and father simultaneously.

something flashed in their eyes and it was the same exact memory from when they were still trainees and suffered at the mere thought of debut. 

when the 6 of them, including yoongi, were crying and having a mental breakdown, namjoon and jin were the only ones who kept their cool and offered their hands to pull them out of that hole. when their doubts and worries overtook their minds and caused the biggest arguments in their group, namjoon and jin were the ones who stayed up many nights, figuring out ways for broadcasts to give them a chance to debut and keeping the group together.

despite their ages, they were still just children and people who were naive that got angry at the simple thought and acknowledgement of disappointment. but namjoon and jin were the ones who forced themselves to mature so they could help the others and make their dreams come true.

in a way, they dragged the others from their slump and dark thoughts and made them trail behind jin with his words of encouragement while namjoon stayed behind to make sure no one strayed away and succumbed to the temptation of sadness and giving up.

they were namjoon and jin’s little ducklings, following behind but refusing to leave the line even though they were more than capable of being their own ducks and spreading their wings to fly.

they were a family and they will continue to stay on that line until they die.

they will always be the baby ducklings since their trainee days.

a/n: maybe this wasn’t what you guys wanted :(. but i personally thought this was cute and if i did that, i think my parents would actually kill me

[bipadme]

the thrill of proximity

pairing: female detective (leila) x ava du mortain

prompt: wayhaven week day 4 - thrill

word count: 2213

warnings: none

tagging: @likemoonlights 💜, @otomefandomevents

read on ao3

The key to lying to a vampire is to be comfortable with telling only part of the truth.

Leila had discovered this the hard way, when she’d told Morgan that of course she didn’t know Felix had snuck his laundry into hers again, and then proceeded to spend the next week waving smoke out of her face and out of her office. Felix had cackled pitilessly at her plight, and asked how she hadn’t known better.

A great question.

Well, she’d learned eventually. She’d learned that telling the part of the truth and being okay with it was key to lying successfully. Or, rather, simply omitting uncomfortable truths for the good of the overprotective vampires of Unit Bravo. This was the mindset she went into when she agreed to have a “girl’s night” with Tina, and then told Ava she planned on having a “nice night watching a movie and listening to this new group Tina wants me to check out.”

All technically the truth.

Leila slings her bag over her shoulder and then gives the team leader a warm smile. The stiffness in Ava’s shoulders seems to have dissipated a bit and she nods curtly, “Acceptable. Considering the recent trapper threat--”

Leila scoffs, “Overgrown teenagers with the poor sense to try and accost me outside of the station?” The incident itself had been more annoying than anything else. A sidestep and a quick kick to the rear had sent one straight into a wall, the other downed by the taser she’d jammed into his gut. They hadn’t so much as landed a hit, that time, but it had been enough to make Ava scowl and demand full-time Leila-sitting duty for the better part of a week.

“Trappers are a credible threat, just because this group wasn’t prepared doesn’t mean the next won’t be,” the vampire pauses.

Then she takes a step closer, fear flashing in her eyes, “More and more people are finding out and I…” Her hand reaches out, hovering so close to the detective’s skin that Leila feels a thrill race straight to her heart until it pounds like she’s just been shocked. All she wants is to close that infinitesimal distance, to stop wondering whether Ava runs warm or cool, whether her hands are calloused from training or if she heals too quickly and her hands are soft, or whether her hands will clench a hair too tight in concern or be achingly gentle. She wants to close that distance, but she feels arrested by the intensity of Ava’s full attention. Instead of pushing forward she’s frozen and struck dumb.

Then the tension breaks like a rubber band stretched to its limit. 

The vampire seems to notice how close she is and jerks backwards a good three feet until the distance leaves Leila feeling cold and slightly shattered. She rocks back onto her heels, trying to find her equilibrium in the midst of a moment she is sure the other woman is feeling as well. She swallows past the tightness of her throat, clogged with disappointment.

God, I’m pathetic, she can’t help but think.

What had she expected? Why did she continuously let these moments haunt and torment her like she lived in a romance novel instead of reality? It was as if their orbits had destined them to pull close, but never touch. So instead they spent their days vacillating between being tantalizingly near and terribly far. How long could she be expected to keep this up? Why did she allow it?

With that thought, she releases the breath she’d been holding and tries for a smile. It feels brittle on her face, and it must look as much too, judging from the crease forming between Ava’s brows. A crease that soon smooths out into her usual stoic non-expression (or as the detective had privately taken to calling it, her repression face.)

The vampire opens her mouth, but she cuts her off before she can say anything that will sink her heart any further, “Have a nice evening, Ava.”

She turns on her heel and determinedly walks away with the weight of Ava’s stare on her shoulders. But she knows better than to let her posture droop so soon. She knows how to walk away and smile at the passing familiar faces with something approaching nonchalance, but she also knows that she hasn’t fooled the people she wants to fool the most.

Or herself.

Once she leaves the warehouse and is safely in her car, that’s when she lets her shoulders drop and passes a hand over her face in sheer exhaustion. That’s when she makes her decision.

I’m going to have a nice time with Tina, she swears to herself as she jerks her car into gear, and for one fucking night I’m not going to dwell Ava fucking du Mortain.

That, she hoped, was the truth.

(It wasn’t.)

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

By three in the morning, she has a distinctly pleasant buzz, a lighter wallet, a happily drunk Tina deposited safely at her apartment, and feet sore from dancing all attesting to a night well (and safely) spent. She and Tina had watched a movie, danced, drank, eaten greasy and cheap pizza, and allowed themselves to relax into the comfortable anonymity of the city. For an hour or two, Leila had even allowed herself to forget the team that thought she was safely ensconced in her living room.

Until the texts, and the calls, and the inevitable need to silence her phone to buy a little peace. Beyond all the remnants of a fun night, she has one text conversation reassuring Felix that she hasn’t been brutally murdered and/or kidnapped by ne’er-do-wells, sixteen missed calls from Unit Bravo, and what she’s sure is one furious team leader waiting for her at the apartment.

Leila steps out of the car with a shiver at the cool air on her skin and the near freezing asphalt under her bare feet. Immediately, her gaze is drawn upward to the silhouette in her apartment window, broad shoulders painting a severe figure against the warm light of her living room lamp.

It’s either a particularly stupid trapper, or Ava lying in wait with the lecture of a lifetime, and no matter what she would admit to out loud, Leila knows what she’s secretly hoping for.

Ava, even angry and lecturing, is always far more delightful to see than Leila is ever prepared for.

She takes her time meandering into the building, heels dangling from her fingers as she quietly makes her way through the dark hallways. Her front door isn’t even locked, and she takes a moment to drop her shoes next to the mat before dragging her gaze to the ice-cold fury of Ava’s eyes. 

She forces herself to look away and walk to the kitchen for a glass of water. She can feel Ava’s eyes on the unusual looseness of her stride, and Leila hopes she isn’t so tipsy that she looks foolish. 

Glass in hand, she takes a small sip before leaning forward onto the island and tilting her head in faux curiosity, “I told Felix I made it home safely. What brings you here?”

“I came in,” she says stiffly, “When I was on patrol and discovered that you weren’t in your apartment as you’d told me you would be. Where were you?”

It’s stated more as a demand than a question, and Leila purses her lips before speaking. “I did watch a movie and I did check out some new music,” she hesitates and bites the inside of her cheek, “While I was in the city with Tina.”

At that moment, the buzz notification of Leila’s phone fills the silence following her question, and Ava scoffs.

“Ah, so your phone does work. I was starting to wonder if it was unable to take calls,” the blonde sneers, the aristocratic lines of her face still unfairly beautiful. “Or is it simply my calls you can’t take?”

“I don’t take calls when I’m out with a friend, and I’ve been texting the group and Felix all night to check in,” Leila argues, her ire rising despite her intentions to stay calm. “Just because I didn’t deign to answer your questions--”

“I should not have bothered with texting at all! I should have tracked you down the moment you--”

Leila slaps her palms onto the counter with a glare, “For what? I was careful! I took an Uber there and back, I only had a few drinks, I stayed in sight of a group of people at all times--”

Ava pushes onward and circles the island to stand directly in front of the brunette as if proximity will win her the argument, “You come home, drunk--”

Leila scoffs, “I’m barely even tipsy—“

“In an Uber—“

“Oh, the horror!”

Ava’s scowl deepens, “Uber’s safety policies are far from—“

“Ava,” Leila raises a hand to stop her and rolls her eyes, “If you cite Uber’s safety policies, the most dangerous thing about this evening will be me jumping out of my window.”

Ava sucks in a breath on a hiss, her eyes narrowed, “Someone has to prioritize your safety, since you seem thoroughly determined to take every risk that crosses your path! Do you have any idea how easy it would be for someone to make you disappear from a crowded room?” 

Leila takes a step forward, and it’s a testament to Ava’s stubbornness and irritation that she refuses to back up despite how close they now stand. “Ava, I’m human. I could trip on Douglas’s stupid charging cable and crack my head wide open, tomorrow!” She scoffs and crosses her arms, “So excuse me if I’m not impressed by how easy it is for some ridiculously strong supernatural to kill me! Why should I be more scared of you or anyone else than I am of sharks and car crashes? Or even particularly aggressive geese?” She flings her arms into the air, “Are you going to nail down every vending machine in Wayhaven in fear that I’ll shake one and it’ll crush me? Where do you draw the line?” 

She crosses her arms again and watches with irritation as Ava takes a shaky breath and pinches her nose before speaking,  “You are the most impossibly infuriating human I have met in 900 years,” she seethes. 

“Well I’m not much impressed by you either,” Leila lies, her idiotic brain choosing this moment to notice how close their shared anger has brought them. How, in her pique, Ava had put a hand on the island next to her and drawn close until she loomed over Leila in a shiveringly satisfying way. She’s still irritated, sure, but it takes a backseat to the desire rushing through her and making her warmer than any alcohol could manage.

Determined to maintain her stance, she tilts her face up, jaw set stubbornly even though she only wants to kiss the sharpness out of Ava’s glare.

It’s just for show, she thinks bleakly. She can glare and bluster all night, but she can’t deny what she wants more than anything else. She can’t deny how frightened she is that admitting her feelings would drive Ava so far away from her that this closeness, even if antagonistic and charged with irritation, would be nothing but a distant dream. And fuck if she isn’t pathetic as hell, but she has no plans on giving this up any time soon.

Yes, she feels guilty for making Ava worry. Despite that, now the vampire is closer than she usually ever dares, her full attention pinned on the shorter woman in front of her until Leila’s every nerve sings with energy. Her warmth is magnetizing, and she feels sober in a way that is nothing short of electrifying. So, yes, she chases this feeling harder than any adrenaline junkie looking for a thrill, and damn if aggravating Ava didn’t always always manage to deliver it.

Her heart pounds, and Ava’s eyes flick a quick glance to her chest, before meeting the detective’s eyes once more, this time with a noticeable flush in her cheeks. And Leila… she can’t help herself. She’s sure she’s visibly trembling at this point, and still she can’t stop herself from swaying forward until her chest is barely brushing the other woman’s. If Ava won’t lean down and meet her halfway, that’s fine, she’ll just--

As her hand drifts forward to brace itself against the vampire’s hip, Ava whips away in a cold rush of air. Leila stumbles hard and catches herself on the counter with a curse. When she looks up, Ava is halfway out of the door, trying to school her stricken expression into something resembling neutrality. 

Good for her, Leila’s shoulders droop even as she straightens from her near fall, at least one of us can pretend this is okay.

“Next time,” Ava croaks, her voice betraying her, “You’ll take one of us.” She takes a breath that seems to steady her, and glares, “And you’ll answer your phone.” 

Then she’s out of reach once more.

The momentary thrill long gone, Leila sinks to the floor and drops her head into her hands.

And she plans on doing it all over again, if that’s what it takes.

[a-libra-writes]

SFW Alphabet - Eddison Tollett

this is an edd appreciation blog tyvm. this alphabet was a request!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He shows his affection in little ways as you two go about your duties. He'll rest a hand on your back to steady you as you balance a box full of vegetables or fix your cloak when he notices it’s tied improperly. In public, he sits closer to you, enough for you to enjoy his presence and not look suspicious in front of the rest of the Watch. 

When you both are alone, Edd just likes to pull you in a loose embrace and give you kisses here and there while you talk. It’s so affectionate and endearing, and you want to tease him so bad, especially since he’s usually so dour during the day. But you leave it alone because you know he’s making up for lost time, and he dislikes being unable to show affection whenever he wants.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You noticed that for all his complaining, Edd truly pays attention to his friend’s moods and feelings. He could tell you all sorts of things about each member of the Night’s Watch, even the ones he dislikes (maybe especially them) and he has a knack for spotting people’s talents. He figured out you were a girl rather quickly - “for one thing, you’re too pretty and you don’t smell half as bad” - and rather than go spilling your secret, he made a point to protect it. If Edd felt someone was getting too suspicious about your identity, he’d redirect their attention or jape about their poor eyesight. He said you were silly for talking to him so much, but he’d let you keep him company and help him work all the same. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He gets red in the face when you bring it up, but yes, Edd is definitely a cuddle bug. Even if it’s just casually draping an arm around you while you both chat, he likes being close. When you get a chance to be more intimate, he’d rather you not leave his embrace at all, claiming you’d surely freeze to death if he let go… Well, the warmth is a bonus. If he’s feeling tired, he’ll rest his head against your back or on your shoulder and close his eyes while he listens to you talk.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Edd never thought too hard on “settling down” in his youth, mostly because his family was so poor, he couldn’t imagine a bride wanting to marry into it. Then he joined the Night’s Watch, and he thought of it even less. It just had to be his luck that he happened to find a lovely girl, here of all places, and she was responsible for dragging such thoughts out of him. Sometimes his mind would wander and think about what it would be like if you both weren’t in the Watch and were a “normal” couple, getting married and having a house and whatever other normal things were supposed to happen. They weren’t things to dwell on, because his rational side would take over and insist it didn’t matter, because it didn’t. Still, thinking of you in a wedding dress was a pleasant way to pass the time.

Edd is a fair enough cook, but he’s no better or worse than most of the men on the Wall. At least he knows how to cut vegetables properly now; you gave him an earful for the way he was mutilating a potato and showed him the right way. Hygiene is another matter, since keeping clean on the Wall is a luxury, but he does what he can since being dirty actually bothers him a bit.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d be terrible at such a thing, wondering if he should just avoid the person until they’re sick of him or just be forthcoming and end it bluntly. He’d end up doing the latter, trying to use as little emotion as possible despite feeling horrible and shitty inside.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Putting aside the fact there are no other women on the Night’s Watch (that he knows of; what woman would want to be here anyway?), he is a very committed person in a relationship. It takes him a long time to feel romantic interest anyway, so once he’s with someone, it would take a lot to leave them. Marriage is not an option to him, and it’s not like he was the sort of person to go courting. His family is on the lowest rung of nobility.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

While Edd has a morbid sense of humor and a fine dose of cynicism, he would never intentionally try to hurt your feelings. If anything, he’s always glad to get a smile out of you, especially when he wasn’t even trying to. He’s good about noticing when you might be feeling upset and his usual quips wouldn’t be appreciated, and in those moments he just pulls you close and asks what’s wrong. He’s similarly gentle with the way he holds and kisses you; he just doesn’t like the idea of being too rough.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

As mentioned before, Edd is all about the hugs, grumpy as he is. He loves it when you initiate them, he loves hugging you from behind and pretending to be dead weight when you hug back, he loves it when you’re tired and you start falling asleep in his arms. Because of all the layers of cloaks and wool, you both squeeze harder than normal just to feel extra snuggly, but when you’re in bed his grip isn’t so tight. You can tell when he’s feeling particularly affection deprived because he’ll hold longer than usual and lean on you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He felt it so quickly that it embarrassed him, so Edd held off on outwardly saying anything for a while. His actions and affection made it obvious to you, however, and you knew he’d say it back if you told him. It happened when you were snuggled in his arms and peppering him with kisses before he had to patrol the Wall for the night. It was such a damned cute send-off to a duty he wasn’t looking forward to, he just blurted it out.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Edd has never been a jealous sort, and it’s still true at the Wall because only he, Sam and Jon know you’re actually a woman. Even when Jon and Sam blush as you’re being sweet, he trusts all of you (and figures they’re just the sort to be dorks around pretty girls no matter what).

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Edd claims he can’t stand them, what with their sticky fingers and snotty noses. His siblings and cousins were enough, he’d continue, his parents went through enough. But you’d notice whenever very young boys would come to the Wall, looking fearful and out of place, Edd would speak a little kinder and make sure they had warm clothes and some extra food. You’d tease him about it and he'd just shrug. "Just 'cause I don't want some boy's blood freezin' in his veins, doesn't mean I'd be any kinda good father."

On the other hand, he loves watching you interact with the younger recruits. You’re one of the more open and friendly “brothers” to the Night’s Watch, and several of them tend to follow you around and await your orders. Edd calls them your ducklings and says your secret will be found out because they won’t stop flocking to you. He thinks it’s adorable how you’re so proud about their improvement, especially since most of these boys were lucky to have one parent who might have cared. As if the wedding dress daydreams weren’t bad enough, now he’d start thinking about what a great mother you’d be.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It’s a rare occasion when you can sneak him into your small, cramped room that doubles as the shabby library, but it’s a private little sanctuary you both can share. He’s a light sleeper in general, but he doesn’t mind waking up to you resting against him. He’s pretty sure he’ll never get tired of it, saccharine as that is to admit to himself. For your part, you can help but feel a little flustered as he gives you several light kisses and touches while you dress.

The mornings you aren’t together are the usual ones. He sits besides you in the mess hall and you both chat with the others while nudging each other under the table. Jon always seems to know when it’s happening and gives A Look.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Depending on the duties given to you during the day, and how fast you finish them, sometimes you and Edd are able to steal away after dinner. It can be anywhere from fifteen minutes to a whole hour, but every minute is precious. Of course you may take the chance to be intimate, but often you’re just sitting close and talking, like a normal couple might. As much as Edd claims he isn’t one for conversation, the two of you never struggle for things to talk about.

Nights you spend together are always special, but funnily enough, you spend them trying to be “normal”. You’ll help each other out of your half-dozen layers, wash up, then spend time cuddling and talking and being intimate by the hearth. Sometimes you’ll even joke about the farm that needs tending to in the morning, or what the neighbors have been up to. It’s a nice reprieve from the usual day-to-day of the Wall. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Edd talks about himself a lot, you just need to listen and parse what’s true and what’s him being his usual sardonic self. You noticed for every three things he exaggerates or dismisses, one is true. Asking him directly is fun because he always has to spin it into a rambling story, then finish with some cynical jape. He pretends not to know why you giggle when he’s done. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Life at the Wall has prepared him for a lot of shit, so anger doesn’t come easily to Edd. It’s usually melancholy or defeat first. The closest he gets is exasperation with you and mild annoyance with Sam and Jon. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers quite a lot about you, half because you’re the most important person he’s had in his life, and half is just from his naturally good memory. You forget how good it is because he won’t often bring things up, but then out of nowhere he’ll mention a story you told him months ago. Sometimes Edd recalls things you don’t remember telling him about. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Most people might pick a first kiss or the first night spent together, but Edd is fond of when he found out you were a girl and said it to your face. The way you blushed and tried to deny it was actually adorable - maybe that was the start of his crush. Your friendship also started after that, something he cherishes even now, so he’s actually glad that he didn’t keep quiet and mind his business. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Edd isn’t an overtly protective sort, but you’re aware anytime he redirects someone’s attention away from you when they suspect something, or how he’ll slip you extra food and make sure your clothes are patched. Even if you’re capable of doing these things himself, it gives him peace of mind to know your identity is safe and you're as comfortable as one can be in the Watch. He’s already jokingly thanked you for laying low, because he’d hate to duel for your honor with his shit swordplay.

He’s very appreciative if you do the same little things for him, and he always notices, even if he doesn’t say anything at the moment. The fact you listen to his worries and always have a warm embrace ready drains away much of his fatigue.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

It’s tricky to keep track of such things on the Wall. Edd has mentioned that he’s forgotten his name day several times, and sometimes the days start to run together when you get lost in your duties. So instead of any grand anniversaries, you two like to pay extra attention to the few evenings you get to steal away. You’re able to get some extra ale from the kitchens or he whittles something cute for you, that sort of thing. If you two have even a few minutes of alone time in the day, you don’t waste it. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has his nickname for a reason. You notice that Edd can fall into depressive moods and more cynical lines of thought. While he tries to keep the worst of it from you when you’re together, you notice when something isn’t sitting right with him, and he isn’t always eager to tell you. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Edd doesn’t care either way, there’s not too much he can immediately fix, after all. He appreciates your compliments anyway, and he secretly really likes it when you tidy his hair or brush dirt off his cloak.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

His depression would slip into something much worse and more noticeable, even to those who don’t know him well. He wouldn’t be afraid to admit to Jon and Sam that he felt like shit without you. There wouldn’t  be tears, just a lot of emptiness and apathy. He’d start to care much less about the value of his life. If something terrible had happened to you and you were gone forever, he’d never discuss you again, even to his friends.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He loves watching you talk about something you love, even better if you’re telling a story. You’d recall all sorts of things about your childhood mare or mischievous siblings. The best is when you recounted a story, either something your nan told you or from one of the dozens of books you read. Edd wasn’t terribly good with his letters, and there weren’t books available to him as a child, anyway.

Since you were assigned to the library, you spend hours digging through the old shelves to find something interesting to tell him about. You’d even sneak a book or two back to your quarters and read them to Edd once you two were curled up. He wasn’t too eager in learning to read better - listening to you and idly kissing your neck and ears just to trip you up was more fun.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He has little to no patience for willful ignorance and innocent stupidity in any person, and he’ll avoid them when he can. A more personal peeve is anyone trying to get more emotion out of his calm and dour nature. He just isn’t one to show outward, overwrought feelings. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Edd’s a light and restless sleeper, prone to waking up and not being able to get back to bed. When you’re dozing beside him, he finds it easier to go back to sleep by listening to your breathing and stroking your skin. It takes at least two hours for him to be fully awake. Most people can’t tell the difference between sleepy Edd and normal Edd; you know he’s quieter and more prone to sighing tiredly. 

[ariasune]

Face Your Fears

Whew! Day 5 of @khoc-week​​ and I guess it’s time for like 7000 words of extract? About time I mixed some actual writing about Nie into this, I suppose. 

Not beta read, we die like men! But below a read more because it’s way too long.

Chapter 7.3

The dream rushed up eagerly towards them, and it was incredibly warm, almost inviting. Sora kept his hold tight on Riku as they spun and drifted into an almost mirror-like ocean. Dipping below consciousness into somewhere bright, on the edge of tropical even-- it wasn't quite like the Destiny Islands, but it wouldn't have been out of place there. 

Warm sunlight, the lap of the ocean somewhere maukai, the chittering of small mammals and birds, hazy buzz of insects and the rushing sound of a waterfall. They were on an unfamiliar lanai, looking out into a humid forest. Elsewhere neighbours moved to and fro, community work and busy occupation. 

And hanging off the side of the lanai was a small child. Purple eyes, ringed with gold and dark black hair drawn up into the beginnings of a ponytail. A young Nie?

They were kicking and thumping at the lanai as they hung off the other end, whining at both of them in the way only five year olds really could:

"Dad," the child pleaded, "you promised you'd take me out to the island if I did all my sigils! Please!" Huge eyes blinked at Riku and Sora. "You promised, I just wanna see it. I promise I won't run off this time."

Enix. This was Enix. The nightmare wasn't trying to be especially convincing, offering information the way dreams did.

Sora glanced at Riku, a thousand questions in his eyes: are we playing along? Is this the person we've been fighting? Is this their dream? Are we going to not play along?

“What will you do on the island, Enix?”

"I'm just gonna look," Enix promised, "I just wanna look.”

“Alright. Come along Nix.”

Giving a whoop of excitement, Nix jumped off the lanai and ran off into the undergrowth with a rustle of plants. Sora turned to gawk at Riku questioningly.

"Was... Is that? Is this their dream?"

“Or something they want us to think is their dream.” Riku frowned. 

"...mm," Sora nodded, "I wouldn't put it past them to make it all up--" then he frowned as well, "their dream Eater. Hm..." Then he started, "uh. We should probably go after them."

Heading down to the shore, Sora blinked at what looked to be... pretty regular looking island boats. Nothing you'd take beyond a reef, really. 

And Enix was bouncing back and forth, trying to drag a small, local distance sort of boat down the sand. It was the clumsy sort of enthusiasm they'd both had, still had really. Setting a hand over his eyes, Sora looked out across the water and pointed out a nearby island. It was small, with white ruins crumbling off one side of it.

Riku turned his face into the wave off the ocean, and sniffed slightly. "...a storm?" He had a slightly puzzled expression, like he couldn't quite pin down the feeling. Riku's senses were largely turning over the dream. It was simple. Hazy at the edges. But the mirage of the Island in the near-distance was like a beacon.

And there was something cooler here. The dream had been warm. But there was now a touch of cold. The sudden drop like the precursor to a storm.

“Something bad happened there.”

"Bad?" Sora looked at Enix who had fallen flat on their face in the sand, so desperate to pull the boat into the surf. "Should... we be going there?"

“Doubt we have a choice. If we’re meant to see, the dream will shift us there.”

Sora frowned, "I... just feel like we're missing something..." He shook his head again, and then when Nix hollered at him to come help, he jogged over to help push the boat into the water. Slow, steady pushing as he went, Enix chatting the entire time.

Enix was soon following Riku around as he worked on the boat, despite Sora's efforts to distract the kid to let Riku work. No good taking any unfamiliar, unchecked boat out to see -- even in a dream.

Nix, however, hopped on and off the boat, staying underfoot and chatted Riku's ear off: "when will I get to take the boat on my own? Is it soon? Is it when I know all my sigils? You can test me! Can I sail it this time? Can we climb up to the top? I'm hungry. Is it ready yet? It's almost my name day, can I go by myself then? What about after the rainy season ends, how about then?"

“When I can sit back and do nothing for three trips, then you can go out on your own,” Riku replied. 

Rather than finding Enix underfoot, he began to gently explain how it worked, what ropes to use and why.

Nix listened about as much as a five year old who very much wanted independence did: which is to say with laser-focus staring and firm nods. Now and then, Nix would help tie a knot, some of them very well, and some of them-- well.

Sora retied those, showing Enix how he'd done it, or how Riku had.

Finally, Nix had settled in the boat, and was explaining in too-sure tones how their lessons were going: "I can do five memory chains now," Nix beamed, "and I know which sigils to put a heart to sleep.”

“And what do you want to learn those for?” Riku prompted in a very parental tone.

As if they all knew the answer but wanted Enix to repeat it.

"Oh, oh oh!" Enix bounced in their spot. "If someone's memories are broken, I can forge them back together, and if-- umm… um."

They stared at Sora for a moment, like Sora might be able to help answer. Sora just gave a playful shrug: not helping Enix with their homework.

Nix pouted, and flopped against Riku's side, drawing the spirit dreamater sigil in sunlight in the air "something about dreameaters, probably."

Sora and Riku recognised the trace of that. “And why is it important to know your sigils?” Riku prompted.

"Ummmm.... cause dad says so?" Nix tried with a sheepish grin.

"Try again," Sora stifled a laugh into his hand.

"...because... uh." Nix nibbled their nails. Scuffed a foot on the floor of the boat. "Cause uh." They drew themselves up suddenly, very sure, "our Ancestors taught us the Secrets of the Heart Forge, and we must preserve the ancient traditions to keep them alive!"

So. Nie came from a family of ancient heart secrets. That. Made a little sense. 

“What do you know about the heart of all worlds?” Sora asked, with genuine curiosity.

"The Kingdom of Hearts!" Enix was bouncing again, causing the small boat to rock very slightly. "Where all Hearts are born! The Blade-Edge of Light and Darkness that tempered the Nothing and made all the Realms! The First Heart and the Final World! Are we gonna see the ruins then! Really? You promise?"

The ruins? “If you can find them.”

Nix gave a loud laugh, "they're the only thing on the Island." Enix peered over into the water for a moment, and then reached a hand out to play with it a little. "Dad, have you ever been to the Outside World? You know? Like in the stories?"

Sora and Riku exchanged another look, before Riku asked, “do you want to see the outside world, Nix?”

Nix looked up at Riku with bright, hungry eyes, before very dutifully lying through their teeth: "nuh-uh! We have to stay here and protect the Island."

“And why do we protect the island?” He prompted in the same parental tone.

"Daaad," Nix flopped against Riku. "I know everything about our sacred responsibilities and duties. I just wanna play, I swear I'll be good." Soft grumbling.

Come on kid. Be more open. Riku gently ruffled the kid’s hair. “Oh? What responsibilities?”

Nix flopped the other way, draping over Sora's lap. "Don't wanna learn..."

"Yeah, I know," Sora petted their hair, glancing at Riku with an awkward almost shrug, because what was he meant to do? "Your dad wants you to grow up strong and smart."

Huffing, Enix scuffed the floor a bit more, "our 'spibilities to keep this world hidden, to never ever leave and to break the heart of anyone who sets foot in the ruins. I know. I listen, I really do, dad."

“I know, I know. But I just want to know if you understand why we do.”

Nix looked at Riku for a few long moments, then grinned, that same hungry glint. "That's a trick question!"

He nodded. “That’s right. You’re learning well.” Okay. So. That made. No sense.

Sora exchanged a look with Riku: was any of this true?

Enix, however, had gone to dip their hands over the side again. Turning the water prismatic colours between their fingers with a prideful grin. "Look!" Nix raised their head suddenly, "oh oh we're almost there!"

“It’s beautiful, Enix,” Riku said softly. “I hope you only ever make beautiful things.” Too bad the two of them knew the truth.

"I'm starting to make my first sigils," Nix added even more proudly. "I gotta show you, when we get there I gotta show you."

Sora looked out towards the horizon again, uneasy. Again that chill in the sharp wind.

Riku was quiet, focusing on bringing the boat into the shore of the island. He could almost feel the bright softness of the moment was over.

As soon as the boat got close, Enix leapt ashore, tripping over the side of the boat and ending up in the surf with a squawk. Pushing up, rolling a little as they raced up the sand, Nix skidded to a hard stop somewhere just below the tideline. There was an obedient eagerness in them as they stared back at Riku and Sora. Hopping foot to foot.

"Riku?" Sora asked quietly, helping secure the boat.

“It’s not a nightmare yet,” he said softly. They had to push on. Follow the dream.

"Mmm," he looked down the shore at Enix. "I'm not sure I want to know why they changed."

“Neither.” But he would struggle to fight Nie now with just the memory of Enix, being sweet. Eager. Maybe that was Nie’s plan.

"Dad!" Nix called out noisily, "hurry up! Please!" 

Sora watched Nix for a few moments more, "they're not going mauka...? Maybe they're not allowed to."

“‘Maybe not alone.” He took a deep breath, grabbed an oar from the boat to use as a makeshift weapon. No keyblades for now.

Waving, Sora headed over to Enix, who gave a burst-like exhale of excitement and jumped forward. This close, Sora could see why Nix had come to a stop right there -- meshed through the island were white marble ruins, slightly tilted but recognizable. But interlocked with the Island. Overlapping. Almost as if two images had collided together. 

Eyebrows furrowing, Sora looked up to see Nix bounding forward, jumping between foliage, sand and jagged bits of white stone with giddy excitement. "Hey! Nix! No running off--" Sora headed after Nix and then froze in his step, a shiver biting down his spine.

Riku carefully nudged his foot onto one of the marble surfaces. Cautious. Testing. 

So true, it was chilling. All of Riku's experiences and life brought to a singularity point that ran through him like a heartbeat. Everything that had led him here. And this was only an echo.

Kingdom Hearts. The weight of it. The ache of it. Complete under their footsteps. Straining at Sora's Heart. Bright in the sky. Complete. Absolute. First. And familiar. Even in a Dream, Riku could feel it.

The Ruins in the Final World. The single door to Kingdom Hearts. Seven Princesses of Light. The door called to Destiny Island. The one Sora had taken to reach him. 

Kingdom Hearts, breathing and living, heartbeat bright in reflection to this place.

And then the dream began to burn at the edges of Riku's awareness. Cold and caustic.

Riku pulled his foot back.

By now the kid was scaling a huge section of broken-in wall, using vines and gaps in the rock alike to clamber up. A small chunk of stone broke off, and Nix dangled for a bit, before crawling up to the top. "Hurry up! I wanna get to the very top!"

Sora looked thoughtful, "maybe it's like... getting in the water. Like how it starts off cold sometimes."

“....race you to the top?”

"...oh you are on," Sora grinned, and was already launching forward. He went right up after Nix using flowmotion, which seemed to dazzle the kid as much as frustrate them.

Sora had a feeling he was going to lose, because he swept Enix up. "C'mon!" Nix squealed when Sora tossed them up to the next ledge. Sora hopped next to them, "wanna learn how to do that?"

"No!" Nix protested, peering at Sora's feet. "I- I can figure it out! I can figure it out."

Riku sat next to the two of them on the ledge. “Is this high enough?”

"Mmm.... yeah," Enix pouted, kicking their feet slightly. They peered down over the edge. "Can you show me the wall running again?"

“Another day. Once you’ve learned all your sigils by memory.”

Enix scoffed in disagreement, and settled looking out at the ocean, and hummed. The dream was undulating all around the island. Shifting a little. Seeping. At times it tingled in Riku's fingertips. At others, they felt numb. And reaching out Riku realized the dream wasn't seeping or shifting around them, but instead they were sinking into it. 

Into layers of dreams: three down already. Wherever the Dreameater was, it was trying to keep them here.

“Three deep,” he murmured. “Don’t follow the dreams.”

"Huh?" Sora looked at Riku in surprise. "Riku?"

He turned to Enix. “Shape changing, huh? Clever. Really clever. You knew we were coming, of course.”

Nix blinked at Riku, tilting their head. "Eh?"

Riku grabbed Sora’s hand. Pulled. “Let’s go.”

Sora didn't question Riku at all, just gripped Riku's hand tightly, trusting. "Mm-hm." He stood up, and Nix clambered up to their feet as well.

"Aw, already?" Enix frowned.

The layers of the dreams were similar. Fit together but imperfectly overlapping, causing the strange oddities in the dream. It was more pronounced for Riku. He figured it had to be possible to move from one layer to the other up or down along those edges. But the edges were hidden; one was at the edge of the ruins, hidden beneath the time knife effect so it wouldn't be noticed.

Decided, Riku headed back to the shore, feeling for the thread to step up into the next dream.

"Dad?" Nix seemed confused as they began to jump down the high ledge. They peered over the edge at them, confused: "I- it's too high--"

Crossing the divide back to the shore, away from the ruins and a layer of dream was passed through. Two layers of dreams. And behind them, still faltering on the high ledge, Nix was yelling after them, frightened: "Hey wait!"

Riku swallowed, lump in his throat. He squeezed his eyes closed. It wasn’t real. It was a dream.

"Dad! Daddy don't leave me!" Enix's shouts had turned into terrified wails. Sora tensed his hand in Riku's, squeezing gently. "Three... so there's two more layers..."

Riku nodded. “Two more. We should go back to the boat.” His voice was taut, almost breaking with the tension of his emotion.

"...this dream is horrible," Sora murmured, and nodded. He took the lead this time, tugging Riku towards the boat. There was something there, an edge humming at their senses. 

At least the further they got, the harder it was to hear the child sobbing.

The water lapped cool at their feet, and the Nightmare burned hot, searing at them furiously.Something in the air snapping, and tensing with discomfort. "It does not like that," Sora said grimly.

“No. It doesn’t.” Riku stepped up onto the boat. Following him Sora threw one final glance back to the ruins. The way they cut in and out of the Island. The small figure curled in a tight ball on top of the tower. He was so distracted, it was only the snap, snarl of lightning and thunder that broke him from his thoughts.

"That was close," Sora jerked close to Riku, instinctively pulling a reflega up. The sky was a dark, furious thing, storm whipping at the water.

“Mhm,” Riku grunted. Focused. Ducking between the waves. Hunkering down to reduce the wind.

The haze of the dream layer was close-- and just before Riku reached it. The Ocean boiled upwards, abrupt, just in front of him. A sudden cold clawing in his stomach the only warning he had before the Nightmare rose out of the sea. A giant Orca, patterned in striking blacks, neon blues and lethal violets and pinks.

Nightmare Ruinpe attacks!

They leapt off. Focusing on dream, they landed deftly on the waves. In the whip of the storm, keyblade shining to hand, Sora could hear the keychain rattle.

The Ruinpe was slow to change directions, torn between Riku and Sora: Riku was the natural enemy, and Sora the natural prey. It swept back and forth, undecided.

“Blizzaga!” Riku bellowed, pointing directly at the Ruinepe. 

Magical resistance crumbling, the Ruinepe was trapped in Ice. The Water swelled, cracked, but wouldn't break--

Sora, meanwhile, had leapt onto the ice. Running across it to stand at Riku's side, Sora took a steady stance. "I think the water is part of it, Riku! Like a living sea!"

Which was exactly why Sora directed his keyblade up, and tried a fierce, "thunderga!"

The storm above them resisted, snaring in the electricity-- but Sora's strike landed and the Nightmare's colours burnt and shifted sharply at the hit. It seemed to swell for a moment, like an ocean, and then burst.

The Ruinpe dissipated into foam and bubbles, stray bits of nightmarish miasma that sank beneath the water. The dream layer snagged-- strained--

One layer left, but the Nightmare was gone. Parts of the Dream felt, distant, unravelling. Parts of the beach disappearing, stars twinkling out.

Without the Nightmare to sustain such a fragile, false world, there was precious little left of the dream. The ocean was a glitching mirror. The storm had frozen, unmoving in the sky. But they were still asleep, even as they'd broken the Nightmare. They were still held there with the familiar taste of Sora's sleep.

Riku turned to Sora. “Come on. Time to wake up.”

He frowned, looking around at the distorted, glitching dream. And then shook his head. "What if this is... our chance to find out what Nie's after?"

“They’re not here, Sora. They never were.”

"That doesn't mean this didn't happen," Sora insisted. "Aren't most dreams made from our memories?"

“Come on.” Riku extended his hand out desperately. “Please. Come out with me. Don’t chase the dreams Sora.”

"But... Riku..." Sora faltered, still looking back to the island. "...but... they were just like..." he cut off before he could say it.

“I know, Sora. I know.

Chapter 12.4

The dream was confused, vicious even. Where before, it had been stratified in careful, seamless layers that led Riku and Sora ever downwards: past the jungle, and the water's edge, now it was jaggedly woven together. This side of the island turned and cut across. The Final Ruins were a molten thing, marble white-hot and seeping into the ocean, where it cooled and formed anew, the sky dripped and poured and rained, the ocean melding into it.

The spiking humidity was second only to the wounded, cloying scent of a bad dream, and there, rotting on the beach was the carcass of the Ruinpe. Great carved ribs, rising like the bones of some abandoned ship.

"....gross." Riku pulled a face, before turning around to look for signs of Xion or Roxas.

Xion was nowhere in sight, but there was a figure prone on the sand. Too small to be Roxas; at least, until Riku got close enough. Knocked out cold, feverish, Roxas looked young, seven, eight and there was a faint, gleaming red pattern of chains - like a show of lights, or a brand - slinking slowly up from under his throat.

It was genuinely unsettling to Riku. Roxas had never been small before. Carefully, he headed over and sliced through the chains with his keyblade, watching it snap and break until Roxas came to with a groan of confusion. Pushing up and swaying a bit, Roxas' eyes looked a bit hazy and poorly focused as he looked all around him.

"Sup, Roxas." Riku said, offering him a hand.

"Um," Roxas just looked at the hand and then looked up at Riku with a suspicious, baffled look.

Okay. Hand go back in his pocket. "I'm looking for a little girl. Black hair."

"Xion?" Roxas questioned, and looked over towards the water immediately. "She's in there."

"....Xion is in the water?"

"... yeah, she went out to the island." Roxas looked confused, looking down at his hands. He scowled, looking far too much like himself despite everything. He turned his hands over. "...what's... going on?"

"You look your age."

"...yeah, I'm... six...?" Roxas turned his hands over once more, "wait..."

Six? Well that was new. "We should rescue Xion, don't you think?"

"No!" Roxas said suddenly, jerking away from Riku and tripping over himself in the sand with a startled noise. He coughed and sniffled a bit, sitting up again and picking bits of sand off his hands. "No. We... we don't wanna get in the water, Riku..."

"No, we don't," he agreed. "But sometimes we have to do things we don't want to save people. If you don't want to help, you can go back home."

"No, it's Xion," Roxas seemed troubled by something and pressed both hands to his head with a whine. Awkwardly, Riku reached out to pat at Roxas’ hair. 

Pat. Pat.

Pat.

Slowly, exhaustedly, Roxas leaned into the touch, finally flopping against Riku. His appearance slowly melting back to normal - dream logic, apparently - but it took a little longer for comprehension to properly settle in his eyes. He slowly touched a hand to his chest, where the chain marks had come from.

"...don't tell Sora," he said, aware enough to know he was embarrassed. Standing up, not quite wobbly, Roxas looked around him. "Shit. I don't... Xion was... I can hardly remember. Like a dream. Xion was here, and-- did you stop whatever that was?"

"I sliced the chains off, if that's what helped? You said Xion was still in the water though."

"The water? No, no that's where the--" Roxas stilled, as if seeing the remains of the Ruinpe for the first time. The dark, molten lap of the ocean. "What... is going on?"

The water was a warning. Unwelcoming in its depth. A nightmare stirring in slow eddies. And if Xion was down there, then what she was had been overwhelmed by what the Nightmare was.

"Not looking forward to that," Riku sighed, but he was the stuff of Nightmares’s fears. 

"Uh...?" Roxas had drawn Next Life and Chain of Memories, holding them tightly in his hands. He squinted at Riku.

"Remember when your whole world fell apart and you found out everything you knew was a lie?"

"... which time, but go on?"

"It's gonna be at least... eight times worse than that."

"Well fuck," Roxas grimaced, and dug around in his inventory for a potion or something. "...we have to go in the water. Don't we?"

"We do," Riku said, resigned.

"...okay," Roxas rubbed his forehead for a moment. "I always did want to go to the beach, I guess."

"Yep." Riku took a deep breath and stepped out into the waves.

They rippled for a split moment, before spilling outwards in a sudden, furious roar. Bursting upwards, the saltwater coming down in a haze of mist and within it a twitching, armed figure. Roxas couldn't say for certain that Riku was familiar with Xion's keyblade armour -- much less this nightmarish form of it, but Roxas could recognize it. 

He clenched his hands tightly around his keyblades. "Xion. She's in there," he said, sharp and direct so Riku would know they had to break the armour to free her, but they couldn't go so far as to hurt Xion.

"Let's save Xon." Riku crouched down to power his jump and then powered forward, slashing across the chestplate of the armour. The strike barely seemed to leave a dent, so Roxas threw himself forward to back Riku up so he could gear up for another attack. "Blizzaga!"

It froze deep along the metal, catching it with a scraping sound and slowing Xion to prevent a reprisal.

Touching down on the surface of the water, as if it was sand, Riku made a shocked sound as the water clawed around his ankles, pulling at him. Magic dream or otherwise, Riku was off-balance and the ocean was thirsting: chains in gleaming red spilling and splashing at Riku's feet.

Noticing, Roxas slashed at the nightmare, the memories, whatever they were-- they broke into pieces, hissing like serpents and sinking back beneath the waves.

Trapped within the Nightmare, Xion wrenched herself free from the ice, tearing at the water. For a split moment, it was obvious -- the nightmare from within the ocean was chained to her keyblade armour. Weaving nightmare emblems in red across her chest and gauntlets.

Then she was pulled back under. Both her blades swung sharply, aiming to drive Riku and Roxas apart.

"Riku!" Roxas had leapt back to avoid the strike barely, but was distracted when Riku was knocked across the water in a spray of darkness. 

The emblem blade drove against Riku, throwing him and lightning flashed overhead. Beneath him, the ocean was desperate, insistent. A discordant wash of fear and helplessness that tried to pull Riku down into the dark.

It clawed at Riku, the fear, the helplessness -- how could they ever beat Nie?

Press △ To Summon Sora

Riku was sinking, breath breaking out of him in a burst of light until he was alone in the dark depths. But not for long. Something reached for him. Someone reached for him. A hand thrown towards his own, someone diving down to reach him. Blue eyes, and brown hair, and so, so clear despite the water and the darkness and the dream--

"Riku!"

He clasped the hand, tightly, eagerly, and let it pull Riku towards Sora. Sora’s arms wrapped tightly around Riku. He was here, he was here, he was--

They were somewhere. Cold. And Dark. Red chains wrapping all around them. But they were together.

Chapter 12.5

Sora gasped, hard, breath pulling into his lungs so sharply it ached a little. He was still wrapped tightly around Riku as they washed ashore. The Dream was stable, the iku'anga in the distance and nearer, the beach of the play island, disturbed by the white marble of the final world. The soft, humid buzz of insects and birds.

It didn't feel real. It didn't feel not real. 

Still tired from their descent into the Nightmare, Sora uncurled a little to see if Riku was okay. He'd curled over him protectively as they'd washed up, and now, Sora reached out to push Riku's soaked hair out of his eyes.

"Riku?"

"Mm," a little dazed, a little clung to the feelings enforced by the dream. "Sora..."

Frowning at Riku's dazed response, Sora shifted to try and help Riku up and towards the--

The pool. Their pool. He paused, and took in the island again slowly. The one that they had taken Enix to in another dream. The familiar feeling sinking in.

Okay, problem for later Sora. He hitched Riku's arm over his shoulder. "C'mon, we gotta find a way out."

Sora settled Riku near the pool of water, and after a moment spent fidgeting with his inventory - unresponsive - just used an empty bottle he'd shoved into a regular pocket. It wasn't very big, so Sora waited for Riku to finish the first few gulps of water, already ready to get more.

"I made it...?" Sora offered with a sheepish smile at Riku.

He smiled. "You always do."

"Mm, but means we're both stuck down here," Sora scooped up another few gulps of water.

“I will always find a way to save you.”

"Riku," Sora laughed, and splashed a bit of water on Riku's face to really rouse him. "This time, I came to save you."

The dream was prickly, mixing memories wildly into a puzzling palette. Riku could feel edges of it everywhere, little bumps and shifts like the texture of an oil painting. But there was still the true edges. Back on the island - Destiny Island, different but the same.

“Come on, Sora.”

Sora looked back towards the water thoughtfully, and nodded. He got to his feet, dusting sand off him and holding his hand out towards Riku. Sora hauled Riku back to his feet. 

They headed to the water's edge. It lapped towards them, a lazy, familiar thing. The same sound they had grown up with.

"I think it's the play island..." Sora said quietly. He looked out over the water. "And that's..."

“Yeah. From.., the final world.”

"And this is our home," Sora said finally, voice soft. "Maybe a long time ago. I wish I’d asked Moana more about this...”

The trip from the play island felt shorter than Sora remembered, even with keyblade gliders. Dream logic? Probably...? He jumped off when they neared the shallows and marched up the shore. Again, the hazy humidity, and Sora gave a soft sneeze.

Riku looked alarmed, looking at him abruptly.

"Pollen," Sora rubbed his nose slightly.

“You don’t get hayfever.”

"Yeah, but I still sneeze when it gets up my nose.”

“Right....” Riku was on edge. Confused. Suspicious.

Sora rubbed his nose again, and reached out to take Riku's hand -- he paused, wiped his hand down on his jacket -- and then took Riku's hand.

"Uh... hm, so," he gestured down the beach at the handful of boats. Sora padded over towards the familiar boat from the dream, the one they had taken with Enix. "Hm," there was something carved round the prow, but it was fuzzy, like it had been forgotten.

It was definitely blurred. A memory, more than a construct, and when Riku studied it, there was the glint of red chains, patterned over the hull. Sora tapped his keyblade at the prow and the chain receded in a slow, clinking movement. The colour of the sky had dipped an almost gold, as the carving slowly appeared. 

“What’s the bet that’s a sigil?” Sora peered at it. "Is there a way to find out what they do?" He didn’t think too hard, just reached out carefully to poke it with his keyblade. It lit up, gleaming gold and blue, iridescent. 

It was a protective sigil, powerful; poised in balance between will and heart, nightmare and spirit, light and dark. Versatile, and though not absolute, it was an old sigil. Written long ago, and passed down as an inheritance, and when called upon, granting access to the forge of the Soul.

The heat of strength and control the cold priming of metal.

This was how Keyblades were once forged. This was the place within that the Nobodies had drawn their weapons from. This was the birthplace of Soul Eater. This was the Mark of Mastery.

Holding Riku's hand, Sora moved this way and that, trying to find the house they'd met Enix in. He ended up almost tripping over tree roots and would have faceplanted if Riku hadn’t grabbed his wrist to steady him.

“Huh. Looks abandoned.”

"It... does," Sora looked up at the crumbling house with confusion. "It was fine before though..." Hopping up onto the lanai, avoiding the broken step on the stairs, Sora looked around slowly.

The red patterned chains were clustered across the damaged door, criss-crossing it and hanging heavy like vines. This time Riku reached out to tap at the chains. They began slowly unlatching, clicking out of existence. The sky over them faded into night, stars gleaming overhead.

Shivering, Riku inhaled the air, tasting the dream around them.

The island was still, a cool drop like the prelude of a storm. The dead of night, restful and quiet. The house looked new again, a door creaking open ever so slowly, as Enix peered out round the corner. 

Looking each way, Enix opened the door a bit more and crept out onto the lanai. They didn't seem to see Sora or Riku there. Tossing a small satchel over the side of the lanai, Enix clambered up onto it, before jumping off into the undergrowth with an eager smile.

“...well. I taught Enix to sail didn’t I.” He sighed. They better follow.

"Think they're running away?" Sora asked, following after Enix. The child was all eager strides, tugging at leaves along the way. "Or if this is just an adventure?"

“Adventure I think. Looks too excited for running.”

"I don't know... we were pretty excited about leaving," Sora admitted, following Enix down to the shoreline. They were dragging a makeshift looking raft that had been hidden by the rocks. Exactly where Sora, Riku and Kairi would hide their first attempt at a raft before they tried again on the play island.

Sora faltered looking at it; even he knew it wasn't the best. It might deal with smooth sailing, but if the weather turned… Riku had been pretty instructive, even if Sora had napped too much...

"Why don't they just take one of the boats?" Sora asked desperately.

“Someone would notice them missing.” He said it as if it was a thought he’d had and decided on a long time ago.

Sora's hand tensed in Riku's at the remark. How easily Riku answered. Quiet, Sora watched Enix drag the little thing down to the water. The dream stuttered, Enix struggling to get the raft to the water. Red chains in the water edge.

Riku sighed. He could see where this was going. “They went out alone. There was a storm, wasn’t there?”

"There's always a storm," Sora mumbled.

“Do you think they ever made it back?”

"Something happened to them," Sora was still mumbly. He looked at the red chains. "One way to find out..." Sora made no effort to unlock the chains, instead looking at Riku. "Are we chasing the dreams or was this what Xion was trying to find?"

“This is chasing the dreams,” he said. But... he really did want to know...

"...what do you want to do Riku?" Sora asked heavily, now watching Enix repeatedly - on loop - drag the raft into the water with a proud, happy smile.

“I have to know,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you have to risk it too.”

"Uh-uh," Sora shook his head fiercely, and reached out to grab both of Riku's hands. He held them tightly, and settled the sharp shine of his focus on Riku's eyes. "Together. Whatever happens. We go together this time." Sora was smiling, determined. "We keep each other safe."

He nodded. “Okay.” Then he walked over to slice through the chains.

The chains didn't so much unlatch as shatter at the contact point of the keyblade. Vanishing in coils of golden light, Enix finally got the raft into the water with a soft whoop of excitement that they barely remembered to temper.

Looking around nervously, they hadn't woken anyone up and they pushed the raft further out, finally flopping onto its surface.

After a few moments thought, Sora clambered onto the raft himself. The boat didn't even dip at his weight, though boat was maybe a strong word.

Drifting out across the narrow distance between the play island and iku'anga, Sora kept turning his head to look at the shore they'd come from, before finally, in relief commenting to Riku, "they're going out to the play island."

It wasn't a far journey, maybe it'd be okay?

The water was an abyssal black, the stars reflecting in it like an oil slick. Iridescent, opal colours, interrupted now and then by Enix's paddling. Sora watched for awhile, before reaching out to curl his hand in Riku's.

This would have been them, almost, once. Until everything had gone so wrong--

And Sora had to ask, voice ebbing like the tide, the flicker of the breeze off the water, "did... you unlock the door? Back then?"

Riku’s breath hitched. “I did. He... Xehanort. He... mentioned that was how we could leave the world.” He sounded so wrecked, so guilty about it.

Sora's hand held tighter, and he looked at Riku, eyes dark and warm and hurting. But not for what happened, for Riku, for the cracks in his voice. "It's not your fault, Riku," Sora promised, soft but sure, "what happened is not your fault."

A gentle but sad smile. “I still believed him.”

“Trusting someone is not the wrong thing,” Sora said angrily, and Riku just gave him a placid smile that made Sora’s insides knot up.

The raft was struggling in the water all the same, rocking hard with each wave and Enix seemed terribly distracted, just peering at the play island with an absolute focus.

There was a bright red gleam on the island, high above the ruins. Enix was staring at it with confusion when the dream jerked to a sharp, stilling stop-- another lock.

Riku squeezed Sora’s shoulder reassuringly, then climbed up to slice the latest lock. Sora had stood to join Riku, but was sent stumbling as the dream lurched back into motion. A storm, clawing at the raft, the water spiking bright and the ocean and sky both churned with lightning. Enix's voice came out in a high, scared cry as they struggled to keep the raft afloat.

Holding Sora tight under one arm, hand gripping the mast, Riku heard a horrendous thrum. A lurch in the water. Sora tilted his head back to stare up at the island. The red, burning glow tilting slowly and Sora finally placed the shape of it--

"Riku," Sora got out, seaspray sharp across his face, "the ruins are going to turn."

“Turn?” He repeated. “Turn into what?”

"Sideways!" Sora tried to explain. "When you- you hit the thing and it would turn, when I had to put myself back together in the Final World."

“But that would... the whole world might...”

"Mm," Sora flinched as the boat was suddenly yanked still. Around them the water was tangled in the storm, a low snarl of wind, but the raft was chained to a stop, two long coils of red piercing the wood--

Keyblade in hand, Sora raised it to one of the chains. Riku nodded, raised his own--

Chapter 12.6

They didn't pass out, Sora had barely blinked before he raised his head from soaked sand. It had clung to his wet face, and he rubbed his hand at it as he pushed up. The ruins had turned, bisecting the island at a strange angle, the air around them hot and cold like the turn of a fever, almost shivering with magic. It pulled and pried at Sora's heart.

"Riku?" he called out suddenly, yanking to his feet and looking around.

Riku came to at the edges of the ruin, and it was a painful thing. Like something had hooked into his heart and was trying to pull it from his chest in every direction. His nerve endings a shiver of ice and jolt of electric heat. 

But when had he passed out? Had he passed out? The sand was prickling against Riku's skin, but it felt distant. Elsewhere. 

"Riku?" Sora's voice carried on the wind towards him.

Grunting, Riku lifted a hand to let Sora know he was awake. But his eyes darted around, looking for the small dark form of Enix.

Stumbling in the sand, Sora reached out to grasp Riku's hand, and when their fingers slipped through each other, Sora gave a startled sound. Surprised, Sora dropped back on the sand, staring.

“Hm?” He turned. Reached to take Sora’s hand — eyes widening when they passed through.

“It's... it's you, right?" Sora asked uncertainly. "You're here?"

“I think I’m me. I feel here.”

"Same," Sora was still shivering. He turned to look back at the shore. The broken pieces of raft. "Enix took the raft out. They got in a storm... the island... the ruins. Something." 

Riku looked around wildly. Where was Enix?

Enix had stumbled from the broken raft, up the shore in a haze. Walking this way, then that, disoriented and off-balance towards the ruins. The red gleam of the shift gate. The white bright center of the ruins. A great stone face that had been hidden within the ruins and was now revealed: the Mark of Mastery carved in a curling circle. Enix stopped. Still. Staring at it as though hypnotized.

Eyes skating over the ruins, the mark. Unsure why this was so shocking to the child, Riku stared.

Slow, curious, Enix moved towards the carving. Following it with their fingertips. As they went, it became clear to Riku why this was so shocking. Where the mark had cut short in the boat carving, here there was more. Flourishes that crept all around the stone face, a bisecting line, a door--

It was a door.

“No!” Riku shouted, rushing towards the child before the door could open.

Riku's hand ran through Enix like a ghost, all mirage as Enix finished tracing the heart swirl and the door lit up. The carving lighting up in blue and green, light and darkness seeping through it. Meeting in the center of the bisection with a burst of gold and the door began to open.

The rising dawn behind them. A figure in a black coat stepped out from the doorway, turning their face towards Riku and Sora: "You're not meant to be here."

They had tried to shove the doors closed even as they opened, but there was too much force behind it. Riku bared his teeth at the mysterious figure. Enough mysteries! He lunged forward to get the hood down.

"I get it now. You're not really here," a finger wag as Nie jerked back, hood falling down, "someone's getting a bit nosy huh? Chasing nightmares around?"

“Yeah. Well. Someone decided to trap our friends in a nightmare.” 

"Ohh... you guys tried to pick my little Nightmare apart," Nie glanced towards Sora and then settled their gaze on Riku. A series of red chains crashed between Riku and Sora.

Glancing back at the chains, Riku turned his focus on the hooded figure. Keeping calm, posture neutral instead of aggressive.

“So. You went back in time to see your younger self. Knew Xehanort had to get the idea from somewhere.”

"It is etched," Nie answered with a cool sort of hatefulness. They circled slowly, edging towards Enix. "I'm just following the script, Riku. A real Master knows that destiny is beyond his control, and accepts that."

There was a hard intake of air from Sora past the chains, Keyblade flashing suddenly. Cutting through a layer of chains.

Riku stepped calmly between them to keep Sora guarded. “Etchings aren’t permanent. Water and time wears them down, earthquakes shatter and reform the earth.”

"That's not going to help you here," Nie raised their hands, slick nightmare running in vivid colours from their fingertips, turning their hands into talons. "This is just a nightmare for you to get lost in," they lunged towards Riku, claws outstretched to rip and maul.

He slipped aside, ducking and just missing the claws. 

He summoned his keyblade, stood firm. “Well I’m the thing Nightmares are afraid of!”

Chapter 12.8

The chains shattered, the Nightmare snarling in a kaleidoscopic sound as the world around them shifted.

The dawn rose, heavy and bright. The doorway was gone, the carving now a floor beneath Enix who was shaking, trembling head to toe in a handful of shards. Blood and bright heart pieces. Dismemberment of the physical and metaphysical.

Nie crouched by themselves. Blood ran off their clothes. Pieces of heart glittered in their hair, and their teeth shone in a smile, as they offered an elegant keyblade with red hilt and black blade to Enix. A bequeathing.

“...oh fuck.” He’d wielded that. Sora had too.

Slow, crying, Enix took the keyblade in hand, confused. Nie gestured upwards with a smile, unconcerned. The rise of the ruins. The Mark of Mastery beneath them, Kingdom Hearts bright and brilliant against the bright white of the sky.

The Nightmare was beginning to breakdown, crumbling. Its layers had overlapped unnaturally and were starting to collide into each other. Soon, the dream itself would end again, and hopefully, pull everyone within it back to the waking world.

Hopefully.

Riku turned to Sora, a tired resignation in his face. Sora didn't think about it, just gripped Riku's hand abruptly. Their fingers met, and Sora's grasp was painfully tight. He gasped in relief as their fingers met and yanked him close to hold tightly.

The dream crunched upwards, just as Sora shoved back against Riku in his haste to be near him. Nestling his face into the curve of Riku's shoulder, and breathed out, slow and hard. "Riku," he mumbled, and squeezed his eyes shut.

[alixsgardenofnope]

What The Music Does: To You, To Me pt.2

Back with part two of this.

[Warnings before heading in: Descriptions of a manic episode of sorts, mentions of a past injuries (not described), and generally just a rough time over all.]

With this in mind, please proceed at your own discretion.

. . . . . . Ever since MC-473 had come into view, Meouch had felt an uneasiness coursing through his veins, but he refused to let it shake his concentration as he eased off the controls and let the ship drift down onto the landing pad, its belly stopping just before making contact with the concrete.

Shutting down the drive functions and securing the drift locking system, Meouch took a moment to look at the rest of the crew. Sung, who had been talking his ear off since their departure that morning, had grown quiet as he moved about the cockpit, checking the displays and recording the readings in a little black book, why he refused to move his notes to a laptop was beyond him.

Swiveling around in his seat and undoing his harness, Meouch caught sight of Phobos standing in one of the observation bays, his back to the group as he stared out at the surface. Meouch stood, prepared to join him, when he saw Havve approaching the other man, drawing him from his thoughts.

He didn't miss the little jump as Phobos turned to look at him, or the brief glimpse of... something on his eyes when he pulled away.

Meouch shook his head, it was none of his business what was going on in that guy's head, besides, Havve was already there. He could handle it.

As they did their initial scan of the planet's surface, Sung had taken it upon himself to keep him company as the other two lagged behind, checking the outbuildings for any signs of life. Meouch didn't really see the point in checking, the ship's readings had come back clean, MC-473 was abandoned after all, the only signs of civilization being the things that were too big or cumbersome to take back when the mining company that had owned the planet pulled the plug on its operations decades ago.

Tail swishing behind him agitatedly, Meouch had let out a little annoyed huff when he turned to ask Havve a question, only to find both him and Phobos still together on the landing pad. Thankfully, Sung calls them over in a chipper tone, saying something about getting eaten by a lizard monster, and the group carries on.

Bringing them to now.

As Meouch looks out at the crystal sea, he's hit with a lingering sense of deja Vu, which pairs disturbingly with the song his companions had been singing up until he'd asked them to stop because it was scaring him.

Placing his hand on his belt, feeling for his gun holster, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, feeling a bit safer knowing that if things go south, if there really are weird lizard monsters, he can at least fight back.

Turning to face the others again, he purses his lips at the sight of Havve and Phobos once again falling behind. This isn't normal behavior for either of them, especially not for Phobos, whose sense of duty as a soldier usually results in him standing at the front of the line with Sung, playing bodyguard.

As he stares at them, Havve shoots him a look, unreadable beneath the mask and Meouch hears a click in his left ear as a comlink opens up, filling his head with a beat of fizzling static before a familiar voice mutters lowly, "Don't let Sung get too far ahead."

Meouch frowns and scoffs, "Sung is a big boy he can take care of himself." 

Still, he reaches out and grabs the tether trailing off the back of Sung's suit, which is there for exactly that reason, and tugs it twice to keep the doctor from straying too far.

Havve hums approvingly and the link closes. 

Looking down at the lead in his hands, Meouch frowns,  thinking about the other reason for the tether as Sung turns to him, giving him a questioning look, his good eye narrowing as he quirks his brows. 

"Am I too close to the edge?" He asks, gesturing ahead of them at the ridge leading into the valley, it's maybe ten feet ahead of them right now, but to Sung, Meouch knows, the drop off is a lot farther away

Meouch nods, motioning for him to step back in line with him. Once Sung is situated, Meouch glances back yet again, relieved to see that Havve and Phobos have caught up, falling in line behind Sung.

Phobos is looking around and hopping slightly on his feet as they stand still. 

‘Leave it to dog boy to get the zoomies while on a mission.’

Meouch snorts and moves the group forward, keeping a wide berth around the ridge, Sung's hand on his shoulder.

As they reach the bottom, finding themselves amidst a forest of towering crystals and twisting trees with oddly shaped leaves, Meouch signals from the group to circle up.

"The path up ahead seems narrow." He says, "Too tight for us, let alone the rover to have gone through."

"I don't wanna risk getting stuck in there either, so if we're going to proceed, we're gonna have to go around.  Personally, I'm getting an itchy feeling just being here..." He admits, then adding, "What do you guys think?"

"I want to stay." Phobos says, his tone light and happy in a way that makes Meouch's fur stand on end, "I like it here."

Sung first hums in agreement, but then shakes his head roughly, "No." He says, "We have to go, something is wrong."

“I want to stay.” Phobos repeats stubbornly, shifting on his feet in the direction of the forest, but Havve is quick to reach out and grip his arm.

“Let go!” he yelps, trying and failing to violently pull himself from Havve’s grasp, Havve’s hand acts like a vice though, and his legs remain firmly planted on the ground, “I have to go! I have to go in there, you understand?! You can hear it right??” 

Sung shudders beside Meouch, bringing his hands up to his ears, eyes watering painfully, “...We have to go. NOW.”

Despite the protests of Phobos, who only grows more frantic as the distance between the crystal forest becomes greater, and the occasional faltering steps of Sung, the group makes it back onto the landing pad, tired and out of breath, but otherwise physically fine.

Emotionally however...

“Eughh... I can’t... I can’t freaking see anything.” Sung whines once they’re back on the ship, hovering outside of MC-473’s airspace, wiping his eyes with a tissue, “They just won’t stop.” 

Meouch pats Sung on the back, wincing slightly when they hear a shrieking sound from another room.

“Seriously, fuck that place.” Meouch mutters, clenching his free hand into a fist, “Those crystals must have been radiating some kind of weird energy, and that song...”

Sung finishes rubbing his eyes and blinks before replying, “It’s possible. Crystals of that size have to have been created using a lot of power, and Phobos did touch-”

“No, he was acting weird even before we landed.” Meouch interrupts, then pauses, gritting his teeth, “...You could feel it, right? That he was off?”

Sung tilts his head and then frowns, “...When he got closer, I felt...” he rolls his hand in front of him, trying to come up with the right words, “...Distress, misery, longing... MC-473 means something to Phobos. I can feel it here.” he slaps his chest.

“If it means something to him, why didn’t he mention it when the name came up in the mission report?” Meouch questions, flinching when he hears another cry, this time more subdued and a little less unhinged.

“MC-473 has only been known as that for a short time, before that, there’s no details on its history... Researchers think it may have been part of a larger pl...” Sung’s voice trails off, “...Meouch, do you remember what Phobos’ homeworld looked like?”

A chill runs up Meouch’s spine. 

His memories of Phobos’ planet are hazy, largely because he smacked his head pretty hard hauling ass out of the place, half fighting, half dragging a hysterical Phobos along with him.

“My memories are too vague...” he waves his hand in front of his face, “...but now that I think about it... Stars... Did we just bring Phobos back to... Shit.” he curses under his breath, standing slowly.

“What are you doing?” Sung asks, moving to follow him, “Havve has things under control.”

That doesn’t stop him from quickening his pace as Meouch heads through the door into the medical bay.

“I wanna go back... I wanna go back...”

Meouch bites his lip at the sound of Phobos’ whining, looking down at Sung, who is once again rubbing his eyes, “Are you good?”

Sung nods, “The sooner we get back, the sooner it’ll stop.”

Meouch hums and heads towards the sound of Phobos’ voice.

As they round a corner, Havve can be seen leaning over one of the beds, an arm firmly resting across Phobos’ chest, keeping him pinned down as the other writhes wrapped up in a blanket like a strange caterpillar. Havve looks up briefly, nodding in acknowledgement before returning his attention to their friend.

“Where... Where do you want to go back to, Phibs?” Meouch asks, “Home?”

Phobos’ eyes dart over to him and he lunges forward, stopped only by the force of Havve’s arm slamming his torso back down, “I want to go home! I want to go home!” he cries.

“We are going home, buddy.” Sung says softly, reaching out to touch him, only to have to rip his hand away as Phobos snaps at him with a growl, “Whoa... Okay, buddy, okay... Not gonna touch you.”

“Why are you taking me away?!” he wails, “Couldn’t you hear them?! They were right there!”

Meouch hisses, closing his eyes, “Fuck.”

As Phobos continues to struggle, there’s a click and Havve speaks up, “Phobos is seeing... things.” he says, looking to Meouch “...Memories...” he whispers, tapping the side of his head.

“You... When do you think he’ll snap out of it?” 

“Soon.” Havve assures him, “His heart rate is lowering and his breathing is normalizing, he’ll likely stop fighting and fall asleep soon.”

Meouch swallows a lump in his throat, “...Is he going to be okay though...?”

Havve makes an uncertain tsk with his teeth, “...I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Mn... We’ll... We should... When we get back we should talk about...” Meouch bites the inside of his cheek, “You know?”

Havve and Sung nod, and Phobos gives another whine of protest, weaker than before.

The trip home is quiet.

[forestofschwarzwald]

♦ The past couple of days, Reiji wakes up feeling out of himself, his body is heavy and lust clouds his judgement.

♦ NSFW , Non-con

♦ Characters: Reiji Sakamaki, Victoria Ki Ja

My blurred vision slowly begins to recover its natural nitid sharpness as I guess the figure of my beloved sitting at the small coffee table in our room.

I feel my muscles sore, exhausted by effort I cannot remember making and find myself puzzled.

—Again? —I mutter to myself, I had the same feeling yesterday and the day prior to that.

I was unsure whether I had woken up from slumber or came back to my senses after losing consciousness. Her scent coates my body, but my memories are convoluted, is it impregnated on my clothes because of our sleeping position… or is it due to being intimate?

—Victoria… —I call, she looks at me quizzically.

—Good evening? —She greets me with doubt on her tone, the sweet ring of her voice makes my body shiver.

As she walks up to me, I find myself captivated by the sway of her hips and the tap of her naked feet. Her long nightgown’s see-through fabric cascaded around her as she took a seat beside me, at the edge of our bed. She places a hand over my lower abdomen, I realize the buttons of my pajamas were undone and, as she caressed my skin, I notice my length exposing its own desire.

My senses were still dull, yet lust hastenly rushed pulses of blood that shook my whole being, slowly stripping away any remnant of reason within me. I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath as she continued with her mischievous massage.

I seek her eyes —Dear… Good evening, my apologies for such rude behavior, I should have been awake to serve breakfast for you —I articulate, her warm touch made my erection ache.

—You’re giving me a complicated look —she replies, I make a conscious effort to not look at her hand’s doing, my body begs her to touch further below.

—Ah… I do not feel as usual —I say, her hand painfully crawls upwards and my lower body finds itself frustrated —I cannot remember the events of this morning.

—You can’t remember sleeping?

—Is that so—her sly grin as her hand teased my chest aroused me further. I felt my mind girding in libidinous thoughts — ...Have we not had sexual intercourse yesterday? —the ache on my length screams at me that the answer doesn’t matter, but the blurred memories of pleasure tell me it was not a mere dream.

—Perhaps desire is taking a toll on you —she replies, retiring her hand from my chest. My skin is quick to feel lonely —. You’ve been a good boy… there’s nothing I appreciate more than sleek obedience.

She slides her wet tongue over her index and medium fingers and her hand returns to my lower abdomen, each caress purposely ignoring the sore erection.

—I am always at your service —I exhale heavily, my eyes examine every millimeter of her generous attributes, such improper behavior…. yet I cannot look away.

—Your obedient body deserves attention —she straddles on top, her soft thighs embracing my hips as Victoria’s lower body pressed my length, stealing away a groan.

Her body’s hot temperature and weight over me were agonizing, I looked up at her slender figure as she slid her gown off of her, my masculinity pulsed in anticipation and my tongue runs without prior thinking.

—Ah how I wish you would do more than just this my queen… —I say mesmerized, she moves teasingly, creating a sweet friction I am unable to resist —More… please… —I beg, her hands put mine over her hot skin —Victoria I want you —I add, her hips still rhythmically swaying.

My agitated breath makes her chuckle, her lips melt over mine and my tongue shamelessly searches for hers, I moan between our kisses as a brazen statement of my arousal.

—Dirty bastard…you woke up just to immediately ask to be fucked? Is that how the king should behave? —the thrusts of her hips become heavier, crushing my arousal. I arch my head backwards, closing my eyes to taste her torture further —Do you have no shame? —she adds, I look her in the eye.

—I am nothing but a terribly sultry slave at this very moment… So much so that for the sake of having you I would do anything-I will do anything— I purred, she slid her hands over my torso, I could feel her temperature rise as she brushed herself against me —Don’t stop… I beg of you to at least continue...—my hands crawled in search of her breasts, pressing and massaging them as I perceived her blood’s scent sweeten, my throat goes dry, I close my eyes.

The slow, tortuous friction was not enough for me, how could that be enough for me? The urge to have her delicate intimacy for myself grew stronger, fueling me with despair.

—Victoria, come here —I gasp, my hands run to her hips and I pull them over my head, my tongue finds her underwear and I trace the center of her intimacy.

Her whines causes my masculinity to pulse painfully so I release it with my right hand, swelteringly masturbating to the sweet sound of her acute cries.

—Reiji —she calls, her weak voice dies under my heavy grunts, she leans forward, resting her forehead against the wall and her hands over the bed’s headboard.

Whatever she was about to say dissipates under my doing.

—I love you —I growl, my tongue and her genitalia soaked the delicate fabric of her undergarment.

Impatient, my left hand rips the fabric apart, allowing me to finally drink her. I suck her eagerly, my arm curls around her lower body, pulling her toward me.

I feel her trying to move away but I keep a firm grasp on her, aware of her sensitivity. I was not about to allow her to escape the pleasure I was giving her… I wanted her to feel me more, to drive her mad… drag her with me to this lustful hell.

—Give me more of this sweetness… More of it… —I beg, loudly sucking her labia, swallowing everything she was giving me. My manners, my etiquette, everything was thrown away, I wanted to arouse her further.

—..Re-—she cuts herself off when I move to her clitoris, teasing it with the tip of my tongue.

Her acute cries translated into pained begs from my penis, my hand unable to satiate its burning desire to possess her; and how could I ever escape that desire? Her soft, burning insides choking it would never be comparable to the desperate caress of my hand...

—A-ah hold it…! —she begs —You’re going… too fast! —she adds, I stop myself and let out a trembling sigh.

No good… I want her badly... yet I have to be patient, as patient as she needs me to be.

—Yes my love —I replicate, giving a sly kiss to her intimacy — anything for you… —she looks down at me, slightly embarrassed.

Her eyes were red, proof of the expertise in my doing.

—When did I tell you you were free to touch yourself? —she asks, I gasp, surprised.

As of now, I realize I am unusually irrational. My right hand leaves my length by itself, she chuckles.

—My apologies, I was not acting under my reason.

Despite my words, I wanted us to continue. While aware of the oddity in my behavior, I was still hungry.

She moves back as my hands slide away from her hips, I look at her longingly before wiping my face with the back of my hand, her warm mouth kisses my neck, I embrace her.

The tip of my penis finds her wet entrance and I moan loudly, feeling her body shake before her fangs pierce my skin. My blood slides into her mouth and the wound begins to burn.

Under her spell my body is electrified by pleasure. Her soft warmth slides over my length back and forth as she takes another bite of my neck.

My head buzzes, I take the freedom to guide her hips, savouring the slick feel of her lubricated entrance. I want to have her, yet she keeps playing with me… when will I be allowed to see you twist and turn under the pleasure of my thrusts?

—Love… dear… —I gasp, her fangs indulge themselves in a new wound, the burning pain of her bites aroused me further. I worried I would inevitably reach climax —I cannot control myself… I have gone completely mad… If you keep biting me like that I might…

She lets out a giggle and gives me a curious look, my blood runs from the corner of her lips making her look far more enticing.

—If you insist~ —she breathes in deeply and gets off the bed, I am quick to sit and catch her wrist —Weren’t you worried that you would orgasm before it is time? If I keep going… you’ll fail your task, that’s what you just told me.

I tremble, fearful of both outcomes. Whether I was left like this for the day or failed to follow her order… both results terrified me. Before I could choose the lesser evil she collects her gown and heads to our bath, I begin panting heavily.

I was frustrated, furious at myself. The foggy memories of her touch float in my brain once more, I was convinced we had intimated… but why was I unable to recall?

I take a deep breath and begin dressing, there was no time for me to dwell, I had a duty to fulfil.

The rest of the evening transcurred as usual and as I poured the last tea of the day for us, Victoria requested me to prepare icecream for her. I raised an eyebrow at the unusual petition, it was the third day in a row she wanted some kind of dessert, all times a different type.

—Have you been watching cooking programs? —I ask, genuinely curious about the source of her sudden crave for sweets.

—I am simply being considerate of your passion for cooking. That’s why I made sure to request something different again.

I smile at her words, cooking for her was a pleasure I would never think ill of.

—I feel flattered… you are quite the kind master, are you not? Fufu… I might begin reciting you my eternal love… —I tease, she laughs and I excuse myself to the kitchen.

Upon my return I find her pouring tea for me and as I serve her the carefully crafted dessert, I take a glance at my teacup. Something inside my mind clicks as I remember the earlier events: exhaustion, arousal, dulled senses… the kind of effects that could result from a combination of chemicals within my collection.

I take a seat, as she samples the icecream I prepared.

—I couldn’t expect any less from the best cook in the world —she compliments.

—It is my honor to please you —I reply, she continues eating slowly and I lose myself watching.

From the delicate way she held the spoon to how her lips and tongue collected all of the preparation, I was hypnotized.

—”It’s rude to stare for that long”, Reiji —she says, mocking a phrase I frequently used in the past.

—How could I not look… I have the most beautiful creature on this world eating what I specifically prepared for her… it is only natural I would not be able to take my eyes off of you… If I was to stop watching you even for the fraction a second, I fear you would be snatched away...—I reply, her cheeks redden and I let out a chuckle.

—You talk a lot —she replicates, I savour each second of her youthful innocence. Men of her time had long lost the ability to properly court a lady.

—I am merely being sincere… I do not fear my instincts as a man who has a beautiful woman before him, my dear. My desire for you knows no limits and it is terrifying, the devil himself would blush if he was allowed to peek at my thoughts, there is not enough fire in hell that burns as hot as my love for you —she averts her gaze, I continue, enticed by her shyness —Oh you are looking away from me… this is the true nature of a man, even a gentleman like myself has an agonizing need to rip that dress off of you. No matter how beautiful the fabric, right now it is on the way of what I consider authentic beauty…

—You…

I hold her left hand between my hands.

—These small hands of yours, I infinitely adore them, the soft skin and delicate nails… I imagine how they would feel as they touch my sultry skin, accompanied by the sweet chants of your melodic voice...

She takes her hand away from me and whips my hands instead, I give her a mischievous smile.

—Have I offended you, milady? —I ask.

—You’re going too far with your compliments, slave —she places my whip on her lap and continues to eat her dessert.

—Pardon my rudeness —I say.

Finishing her icecream, she takes a look at my cup. I squint my eyes at the sight, as I thought, she was behaving strangely. Could it possibly be that I have been drugged? The thought sends pulses down my body and I run short of breath.

What was she doing while I was out? Was she playing with me like I was her toy? How aroused was she as she watched me half consciously react to her attentions?

—Reiji, could you bring me a bit more? —she requests.

—Of course my dear.

With the second portion on hand I walk in her direction, once I stood beside her I placed the small plate in front of her, and before I could walk away she orders me to stay still. I obey her without question and her hands make me jump.

—I said still —she asseverates, undoing my belt. I regret the lustful thoughts of earlier as she exposes my masculinity. The cold air makes my breath tremble —. What were you thinking? —she asks, I close my eyes strongly, the hunger within me was eating at my chest like a starving lion.

—Nothing I should tell a lady like yourse- —before I could finish, I feel her hot mouth around my glans, I almost lose balance and place a heavy hand over the back of her chair, tightening my grip as if my life depended on it.

Her coffee eyes stare into mine and I freeze as her small hands take a strong hold on the rest of my length. I feel ready to collapse and panic while trying to distract my brain from her evil doing.

Failing to do so I watch her mouth work on my glans, teasingly toying with its piercing before giving me the pleasure of putting it back inside her mouth. My voice escapes my mouth shamelessly as she continues, I wonder if she is agonizing for me too. Watching her beautiful face focused on my penis like such made me think of her lower body, yearning for it to reunite with her again.

The body of a demon like her, cursed by libidinous thirst, pulsing and leaking in anticipation… responding to each of my cries and moans… the body of a sadist that enjoys the sight of blood running out of a body… I wanted to be one with it.

She gets carried away and continues her doing, I twist and move, begging her to stop, and when she does, my entire body pulses painfully. I try to catch my breath and she stands up.

—Good job… —she says, the dark tone in her voice sends chills through my spine. She drags me by the collar of my shirt and kisses me, I lower myself and try to get my manhood away from her dress.

Satisfied, Victoria sets her lips apart from mine, I adjust my glasses.

—I will change on my own, you can finish your duties and come to bed.

—Understood.

To avoid further suspicion on her part, I decide to drink the tea she served me, and soon realize my body was becoming heavier. As I suspected, she tampered with it.

As I took everything to its proper place I drank an additional drug with the hopes of retaining memory. The sight of my laboratory neatly organized, knowing that she had been here in secret, made my cheeks redden.

—Good grief… should I hide my research journals to make this game harder for you? —I wonder, heading back to the master bedroom.

I am fast asleep but as I suspected, her touch brings me back to consciousness, I realize my body would not respond to any of my commands, and I’m left with my eyelids halfway open.

Unable to see clearly, unable to hear clearly… I sense a familiar warmth around my length and guess it to be her tongue. Even from my helpless position I can clearly discern her sweet, humid mouth giving me all the love they didn’t earlier, harshly sucking on my skin.

I’m not fully sat on the bed, but I can see her blurred silhouette. Her long hair brushes my clothed thighs. Despite my condition I was quite delighted.

My voice cannot leave my body fully, the only sign of enjoyment I could give were weak moans. The further I realize the situation, the more I can feel her work. Her tongue runs with passion, making me wonder if she is enjoying the taste…

The thought arouses me further…How would she react if I was to ask such a debauched question?

Feeling her harsh doing my mind begs her to straddle on my lap and give herself to me.

—So honest… —she whispers, I wonder if she talks to my body. Why yes dear, my body and my heart, both are yours.

Ah I can’t move… Is this how she felt back then? Is this how it feels to not own your body? But... if it is her who guards it… I do not mind.

The hunger in her doing feeds my fantasies as I begin to see her as a predator devouring prey, a lioness whose sharp fangs can sink on my flesh at any given second now. Poisoned like a little mouse, I am unable to move as she consumes me with lust.

I wonder about the last two nights, what did she do to me back then? While I was unable to defend myself… oh how I wish I could remember. But more than that, I also wish she would suck harder.

—How does it feel to be at my mercy? —she asks. Even if I could talk, I wouldn’t find words to satisfactorily answer your question.

Treating my body as your toy, swallowing my essence like that… I feel good, more than that, I feel bliss. I’m your plaything, Victoria… you have me at your mercy. I am this kind of man after all and you know that well, do you not? Any form of pleasure you give me, I will happily take it, everything you can give me, I will make it mine.

—Love… —I manage to articulate, she increases the stimulation, making me want to scream but I can merely manage a whisper.

My disorganized thoughts center themselves around her doing, I wonder if she will call me names? Please do…

I would not mind if I was left like this forever, visited only to be used as a tool for pleasure. Of course, this is a passing thought coming to me due to the aphrodisiac in her deadly cocktail… yet truth is, at this very moment, I wish that was our reality.

Does it excite you to make of me an almost soulless doll that cannot respond to your actions? Or is your arousal perhaps a response to my confusion the moment I wake up, completely unaware of your wicked doing? What exactly is what ignites you so much that your body becomes hot like this? I am jealous, I am irremediably jealous of my body… without my input, it manages to drive you as insane as me!

She climbs on top of me, her lips kiss mine with delicacy as she makes my penis enter her.

I wonder how long can my body last without my control. She lowers herself to kiss my neck and I feel her bare skin against my pajamas, I resent my impaired vision for not allowing me to see her properly.

—You’re really cute —she whispers in my ear, I wished I could reply to that.

So I am “cute”? I think you are far cuter than me, constantly finding ways to surprise me… there is not a moment I’ve been bored by you.

Her slow movements were torturing me, I wished I could grab her hips and thoroughly walk her through pleasure, until reaching climax together. But I am a mere doll who can only feel her and faintly respond to her love…

Her tight, slippery walls around me are delightful. My head spins vertiginously as I find myself conflicted. I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to touch her yet I could not, and such tragic truth was arousing to me.

What have you done to me, my love? My sanity is buried by this lustful desire.

She gradually increases the pace of her hips, I allow myself to memorize her preferred rhythm, I can tell by her voice that she is close… How long will my unconscious body resist? As I realize I will be unable to control my body’s climax I focus on the sensation of her walls.

She allows me to ejaculate inside her, her own orgasm following suit as her sweet lips kissed my face. Did I do a good job as a doll? I ask inside, trapped in my mind, no feedback on her end.

Her body, coated on sweat, rests over mine as she slowly accommodates us in our bed. She tries to quiet her breath, unsuccessfully so. My arms are placed around her and I close my eyes to the soothing feel of her small frame within my grasp. Even when it would be useless for her to be gentle, she shows me her love… Do you like to be embraced by me? Does it make you feel safe?

Her heartbeat plays like a lullaby and I am fast asleep, deeply so.

The next time I opened my eyes it is afternoon and my senses aren’t as dull as I imagined they would. Victoria still laid within my arms, sound asleep.

I watch her small figure, her face is completely relaxed, yet her mouth is closed shut. The memories of her doing ignite an urge to drown her with kisses, and so I did.

The aphrodisiac hadn’t worn off yet, and my body was soon begging for more than childish foreplay.

—Reiji? —she wonders, slowly opening her eyes, I kiss her lips a couple of times —Mh-You’re already awake? —she asks, I place myself on top of her, she enables it.

—Victoria, you cruel cruel goddess… even when I was unable to defend myself… —my lips sink in her neck, her small hand reaches for my nape and I take it as a permission to bite.

As I do, she lets out a moan of relief, her delicious, pulsing blood dissipates inside my mouth, feeding my body with power and relieving my excruciating thirst. I position myself between her legs, her free hand clings to my shirt as I slowly penetrate her.

Her hands caress my hair and shoulders with fondness, I lick the blood pouring out of her wound and feel my senses return in a rush.

—Nh-You don’t look displeased…

—Displeased? How?… How would I?… At this very moment you are what I crave… No matter how or when… you can do with me anything you want, I’m yours. Your actions are a bold statement of ownership over me, there is not a single fiber within me that feels displeased by your actions —I say, my hips weaved carefully, making sure her clitoris would get friction as well.

—I i-magined… you’d say… that...

—I belong to you —I reaffirm, my forehead rests over hers.

—Yes… you’re… mine… for all eternity—she replies, unable to keep her voice stern.

—Ah say it again… claim me.... claim me with all your might…

—Re-iji you be-long to me —I increase the pace of my hips —You…—she looks at me angrily — Nh-You… are for me to do... however I please… body and soul… my slave… my king… my hus-band…

—Yes all of it… I am everything to you, you are everything to me as well… I love you Victoria… Oh I love you… —she takes a painfully strong grip of my hair, I move faster, making sure she’d still feel every millimeter of me inside her.

—I love you...too—she pants, her eyes full of tears look at me with bliss.

—Who? —I ask, I begin running short of breath as well. Her insides burn and suffocate me, begging of me to release my pleasure.

—Reiji... I lo-ve you, Reiji!

I kiss her deeply, her tongue finds mine as my hands rise her hips in my direction.

—Can I? —I huff, her intense gaze is the only answer I need to continue.

Her acute voice plays like music to my ears as she reaches orgasm, her muscles tense around me and I follow suit, locking my eyes on hers.

—Look… at me… —I gasp, slowly allowing her bottom to rest on the bed, she complies and I kiss her lips again. I lick the wound on her neck, its taste dazed me.

—Reiji…

—Yes my dear? —I ask, my tongue keeps collecting the sweet nectar leaking from her neck.

—...You owe me a pair of undies… —I look at her in silence before letting out a chuckle.

—I… did not realize I had torn them apart, I had absolutely forgotten about it… I will buy more for you.

She laughs too, I reluctantly pull myself out and lay down on my side of the bed. Victoria is quick to accommodate beside me, her breath still harsher and faster than usual.

—Oh my… Was it too much for you? —I tease —. Did having your way with me earlier exhaust your energies?

—… Hm— she gives me a complicated look —What was going through your mind at that moment? —she asks, I look at the ceiling, then back at her.

—I was thinking that if I was a mere toy you would use only to sexually satisfy yourself, I would be in permanent arousal.

—Wouldn’t you feel lonely?

—Yes. There is a line drawn between pain and pleasure, it would most certainly become painful to be unable to convey my feelings to you —I explain, caressing her soft hair with my left hand —. What about you my dear?

She rests her head on my chest.

—I would never want you to be just an unresponsive doll, you were still slightly awake, that is the only reason I found it enjoyable. Even like that… I like to hear you, so please don’t become a soulless doll ~

—Without Kanato that is no longer an issue —I chuckle, she laughs as well.

—You’re truly adorable… —I blush at her remark and gift her a smile.

—My dear wife, it is time for us to dress —I announce, and so our daily routine begins.

Let us stay like this for all eternity.

[friendlyfrat-boy]

The Straw-Hat Among Us Ch.4

Purple: Caesar Clown

Caesar knew it was him from the start. It was obvious, really. Terrible acting aside, Caesar couldn’t honestly believe such an idiot believed them foolish enough to simply let him slip by.

The only thing that made Caesar feel any sort of remorse for Teach’s death was the very last few things he’d said. Not the stuff about wanting to live or anything, no, he thought about that part where he covered up his discovery of the body. Everything he said, no, confessed had pretty much been proven. He was the only one strong enough to toss a stiff like that, he had good motivation for doing so…

All evidence pointed to this being the case.

But nothing proved that he actually killed Shanks. That was all just speculation.

Oh well. Teach was still an unpleasant bastard, so the only real reason Caesar might regret his death was that it lowered their numbers. The fewer people out and about, the fewer the witnesses. Not that he trusted anyone, anyways.

Oh, except for Doffy. That man right there was a man of quality, alright! While everyone else ran around with their pathetic little meagre intellects, Doffy sat with his legs crossed, grinning at them with the amusement only someone of ridiculously superior intellect could deserve. The kind of intellect Caesar himself possessed, in his own non-humble opinion. That was also why they got along so well.

Until now. “I don’t see why this should be such a big deal! He was obviously some manner of suspicious, who cares if he didn’t actually kill him?”

Doffy shook his head, folded fingers covering his mouth. He wasn’t smiling. “Whether he was suspicious or not is entirely uninteresting. What’s the fun in killing a mere human?”

Caesar wrinkled his nose, absently pouring the contents of a beaker into another. “It isn’t supposed to be fun, you know.”

“Oh, well,” a feral grin crossed Doffy’s face, “don’t tell me you’ve never imagined what they might look like on the inside.” Caesar’s hand stalled to a stop in front of a little canister of aluminium powder. “Don’t be ashamed of it! Imagine those insides, crawling with unknown substances and peculiar cell formations... Perhaps they are not carbon-based at all, instead being of the elusive silicon-based sort? Oh, the possibilities!”

Caesar clicked his tongue. “You’d cut up a man if his heart happened to be in the wrong place.” Still, he couldn’t help but agree. Cutting up an alien like that…

A shiver ran down his spine.

Shaking his head, Caesar returned to his experiments.

“I don’t trust Zoro.”

Caesar turned to look at Doffy. “-Why not?”

The blonde man shrugged. “He’s got a lot of freedom. If he’d like, he could come and go wherever and whenever, and we couldn’t be able to so much as object. Wires to connect.” He paused for a moment, thoughtful. “Then again, trusting anybody at this moment might be the most foolish thing a man can do.”

Caesar startled. “Y-, yeah, of course! Shirororo, imagine believing anyone in this place could be trusted! Truly foolish, I say!”

“Indeed. Not even I am exempt from doubt, despite my own-,”

Psssh. Someone was using the Disinfection room.

Giving Doffy a little glance, Caesar turned around to see whoever would come out. Doffy, who had so far been at the little desk in the far end of the small Medbay, stood up and walked up to where Caesar stood. They waited a few moments, staring at the very same closed door.

Footsteps rapped against the tiled floor. And then, it opened.

White suit and white hair. “Disinfection working properly,” Smoker noted, stepping out of the tiled room. His eyes met those of his observers. “What are you two lookin’ at?”

“N-, nothing! Just… you didn’t happen to see someone else while coming here?” Caesar asked. Really, it was unimportant, but knowing where everybody was kind of calmed him down. It was Kizaru’s duty and all, but how could he possibly trust that slow man? In that sense, he trusted Smoker a bit more, but only a little bit.

Smoker’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t see anybody, no. I and Zoro are the only ones about at the moment.” He took a step closer to them. “Not that we’re the only suspicious ones around here.”

One could hear a pin drop.

“Hey.” Somehow, Doffy’s voice carried enough authoritative intent to keep Caesar from even attempting to utter a word. “Let’s not go about hurling allegations like sledgehammers in glass houses. Isn’t that right, Smoker?” He didn’t even hesitate to return Smoker’s glare.

Smoker glanced away. “Tch. Fine.” He stepped past them, through the Laboratory and towards the exit. There, he stopped, and looked back at them over his shoulder. “But don’t think you’re automatically absolved of all guilt because you stick together.”

With that said, he left, leaving the two arguably most intelligent men on the expedition alone. They turned to each other.

A brief bout of doubt flashed through their eyes as they regarded who might be their future killer.

Time passed oddly calmly. Not much actually happened. The first three deaths had been a blur, each dying right after the next, but now… Now, there was a moment of respite, where nobody died and nobody wondered if another might be plotting their demise. Caesar took this calm the same way a man might understand an aggressively silent woman, namely with great fear and panic.

Knowing who was alive and dead calmed him more than not. At this very moment, everyone but he and Doffy could be dead and stiff without them knowing, and there was no way for them to-,

Or… there was. In the Office. “Um, Doffy?”

“...Doffy?” the man questioned, obviously unprepared for any use of the nickname.

“Oh, uh, n-, no! Doflamingo! Doctor Doflamingo!” Caesar said, throwing his arms in erratic patterns to try to explain his point as plausible as possible. Doffy didn’t seem impressed. “I-, um. I’mverysorrypleasedon’teatmyface.”

“Fufufufufu… Fuuffuufufuu!” Doffy laughed, throwing back his head. “Amusing! Do go on, sheep’s head, do go on calling me that… that little nickname of yours. It is… quite imaginative.”

Caesar almost wanted to object. “Oh, okay, um. Doffy, could you come with me to the Office? I’d like to check the vitals of all members collected.”

Doffy stared at him blankly before breaking out into a smile. “-Why, how clever! It slipped my mind entirely!” He quickly hopped to his feet, striding towards the door leading outside with little fear. “To think I hadn’t even considered doing so…”

“H-, hold on!” Caesar put a hand on Doffy’s shoulder. “Let’s-, let’s go through the Specimen room! It’s safer that way, and Smoker did say he fixed it up. Might as well, no?”

Doffy regarded him for a moment before nodding. “Another clever insight. You’re just full of them, aren’t you?”

“Heh, well, I am quite intelligent~” Caesar happily boasted, scratching his neck while a goofy grin took hold of his face.

All the way through the padded hallways and tiled rooms, they met no one. Not a single soul lingered in those halls, and Caesar knew why. The one person who had business there, the only one interested in what was kept here, was Teach. It had been his duty to sort samples and whatnot, and lacking him, this entire room and the Disinfection needed to pass through it was the Notre Dame without the Hunchback.

The Office wasn’t quite so empty. Two pairs of eyes met them as they stepped into Administration. The green-haired man decided to speak first.

“We saw you coming,” Roronoa said, his only explanation being a pointed index at the green holographic in front of him.

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on everyone,” Smoker added, arms spread wide as he leaned over the table showing where everyone was. Or, if Caesar remembered correctly, it didn’t actually show where they were per se, but only where there were people and how many there. As far as Caesar could see, There were four in Admin, two in O2 and one in Security. “What brings you here?”

Caesar easily stepped passed them, entirely uninterested in whatever they had to say. “None of your business, repairmen!”

Before Caesar had left entirely, he heard Doffy explain with glee how they were about to take a peek into the pulses of all members gathered. It didn’t make much sense to Caesar. Why the hell should they have to explain anything to lowly repairmen? Furthermore, even worse, how come their well-read voices had the same influence as-, as Usopp’s?? That boy couldn’t spot a danger if it so kissed him on the nose!

“Come on, Doffy, let’s go,” Caesar growled.

“Coming!” Doffy replied, giving an oddly-placed cackle as well.

The repairmen, still inside Admin, continued talking about something else entirely, namely about how they had to choose whether or not to assume Teach was truly the imposter, as either assumptions held different weight and implications going forwards. Although Caesar hardly thought it was their place to consider such topics, he let them be. They had important things to do, after all!

He and Doffy soon found themselves in the western part of the Office, where one could swipe their card or check vitals. They were there for the latter.

Nothing unusual. All pulses were regular, along with their numbers. three people were still dead, no more, no less.

...Though, having less people dead would be a bit more worrying than having more people dead.

“Oh, well. Nothing to see he-,”

Everything turned red as a horn blared, a number popping up in the corner of Caesar’s helmet counting down from one minute to… something.

His heart almost stopped. “Wh-, what the hell-,”

“It’s the Seismic Stabilizers!” Smoker called out with the kind of alarm only a person assured of their demise could possibly muster. “Run to the damn shuttle!!”

“I’m not taking any order from some-,”

Caesar could say no more before Doffy grabbed the collar of Caesar’s suit and dragged him outside, towards the Shuttle. D-, Doffy, what are you-”

“Don’t say one more fucking word,” Doffy ground out, putting a stop to any rebellious needs within Caesar. It didn’t take long to get to the Shuttle, but Doffy didn’t head there. He went for the side, towards the entrance of the Laboratory. He didn’t enter though, instead dragging Caesar over to the large structure keeping earthquakes from destroying the entire expedition. “Fuck, this was Teach’s profession.”

Thankfully, the task itself wasn’t too hard, simply press your hand against a screen, and wait for someone else to do the same thing on the other structure.

In the corner of his helmet, the number hit 30.

Red lights continued flashing, the siren continued blaring. 20 seconds.

“D-, Doffy, should I-,”

“No.”

15 seconds. The lights flashed. “Doffy, someone has to-,”

“Stay. Right. Here.”

10.

Sirens blaring.

5.

“Doffy!”

4.

“No.”

3.

“What the hell is-,”

2.

Doffy ground his teeth.

And…

And nothing.

A little blue light on the screen flashed, signifying that everything was alright.

They hadn’t died. They lived.

“Shi-, shirororororo…” Caesar laughed meekly, trying desperately not to think about the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

“Well, back to work, Cae-,” and the next moment, Caesar threw his arms around Doffy.

“We-, we live! We survived, Doffy!”

Doffy stammered for a moment, too surprised to react. And then, a tender little smile found its way onto his face, unlike any smile he’d smiled until now, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah, we did.”

“You two done fooling around?” Smoker asked, arms crossed.

“Geeeeee Smokeeer, no need to be so meeeaaaaan!” Kizaru commented, poking Smoker’s head, perhaps some form of odd punishment. It seemed surprisingly effective, considering the way a vein throbbed on Smoker’s forehead.

“Cut that out!” Smoker growled, slapping away the older man’s hand.

“Ooooohh~ scary~.” With his piece said and done, Kizaru floated off towards the West Wing, uninterested in whatever happened next.

Zoro seemed more interested. “The cowardly pair aren’t here?”

“Usopp and Buggy?” Doffy asked rhetorically. “No, not in the least. They should still be in O2.” Caesar nodded affirmingly, fully attesting to what Doffy said. Zoro was right in wondering where they might be. Even if Caesar hadn’t been dragged outside by Doffy, he would easily have gotten panicked enough by the blaring sirens to run outside anyways. “You don’t think…?”

Zoro stared at them, eyes sharp. “If someone did this to distract us, something might very well have happened to one of them.”

That was all the group needed.

All of them ran into Electrical, passing by the security office and continuing down into O2.

“M-, maybe we should’ve helped out?...”

“Hey, we’ve got things to do! And the sirens stopped, too, so they probably figured it out.”

“Yeah, I guess-, GARCK” Usopp flew from where he’d been standing, dropping to the ground as all four people ran inside O2, completely unannounced. Caesar panted, not used to this kind of exercise, even though they had only been running for, oh, a minute or so, tops. “S-, STOP DOING THAT, YOU’LL GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK!!”

At least both Buggy and Usopp were alright. Caesar breathed a sigh of relief.

“Everything alright? You seem… frayed. Like, in the nerves,” Buggy said, cocking an eyebrow.

Caesar frowned angrily. “No, we’re not okay! Why the hell didn’t you-,”

The lights went out.

Darkness fell upon the room like a descending bird of prey, placing all six crewmates in a cocoon of nothingness. A few panicked gasps rang out along with a whimper whose owner could only be Usopp. It was so black, so dark. Caesar could see nothing, not even an inch in front of him. Everything was simply black.

Black, and dark, and gone. The air felt full. Full of breaths and voices and panic. Tangible, suffocating panic. His breathing quickened. He could feel it. How his diaphragm moved and spasmed. Uncertain, unclear. There were so many people in that room. And yet, Caesar felt alone. Alone and vulnerable.

He gasped, stumbled back, and hit someone. Someone behind him. They grabbed a hold of his shoulder. Was it to keep him steady? Make sure he didn’t fall over? Or-?...

A row of sharp hungry teeth sank into his neck, twisting through the thick rubbery fabric, piercing the skin and rending the flesh and cracking and crunching and pulverizing bone, his windpipe wasn’t even crushed, simply severed, alongside the rest of his neck, but not all of it, no, a single part of it, a sliver, kept his head attacked, his dead, uncertain and blind head.

He gave a blood-filled sputter and collapsed to the floor.

His killer shuffled away from his lifeless, empty, gazing body.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Queen of the Journey”

Stuck on a bus traveling home for the holidays, so I decided to do some writing. I’ve had this idea since the beginning, but one of you readers recently reminded me of this idea again, so thank you and enjoy :)

There is something indomitable about the human spirit. It’s something no one, not even the humans, will ever truly understand. There are two ways of doing things in the rest of the galaxy. You can be isolated, and individual that understands only the genetic knowledge of his species. You may interact with others, you may have family units, but you will never understand those around you on a personal level. Or you can be connected, this comes in many forms, a hive mind or a collective well of knowledge the entire species pulls from. They understand each other quite fully. No one is ever alone.

But then there are humans, I won’t start by saying that humans are special or unusual because I think that has been said before. What I want you to understand is that humans are isolated in their knowledge of themselves. There is not a specie wide well of knowledge from which they can pull their behavior and understanding. There is not a template by which they live their lives, yet, somehow they can experience a welling of empathy to understand others around them. They seem to know the struggles of their fellows without the hive mind to connect them.

Not only this, but no matter where the human comes from, there is always an understood knowledge of thing humans can connect with. They speak of the same anthems, stories, photographs, and memories like they all have a personal connection. Though the humans were not born with a hive mind to connect them, that did not stop them.

They made one.

They share their knowledge by casting it out into the ether, to an unknown server of vast knowledge to access at their leisure no matter their location across the galaxy,

I know it sounds farfetched, but because of this man-made hive mind, the humans understand each other’s experiences in a way that any other species like them will never understand their fellows. A human from earth and a human from Mars may still understand each other and connect over the same things.

They have been doing this for thousands of years.

***

“Keep moving, human!” Captain Vir stumbled a bit against the weight of the slap delivered to the back of his head. Krill could hear the sound of his bionic leg desperately trying to react to the imbalance and keep the man upright.

With a glower, the human turned to the alien soldier eyes narrowed. He probably would have spit at the creature, but the aliens had taken precautions against the human’s poison breath, placing a spit shield over his nose and mouth. Not only that, but the human’s hands were bound behind him.

A soldier grunted turning to ignore the human to look down at Krill, “What do we do with this one?” He asked

A slightly larger beast, likely the soldier’s commander, trundled up turning to look down at Krill’s small, trembling frame, “He has chosen his side, let him suffer the same as they.”

Krill was pushed aggressively forward violently careening towards the ground, saved only by a last minute inflation of his hydrogen sack.

Behind him, the creatures laughed cruelly.

Up ahead, Captain Vir had turned to watch him. Krill desperately looked to the human for an idea, and while the man’s gaze was reassuring, Krill didn’t dismiss the worried twist of the human’s lips as he stared around at the hulking soldiers.

Like a big, slow tide of dripping syrup, the herd of humans trudged slowly down the mass corridor at the behest of their captors. Isolated instances of rebellion were put down with extreme prejudice leaving the rest of their counterparts cowed.

Krill kept to the captain’s side seeing out his quiet confidence and indomitable optimism to trick himself into thinking they would be alright. He could see the human’s brain working, gears grinding along in his head as he tried to think his way out of the situation.

It was looking less and less likely.

Ahead, the hallway slowly opened expanding outwards into a massive cavern alive with the sound of hushed voices and the oppressive heat of many bodies.

Captain Vir paused at the lip of the room eyes widening at the sight before him. Krill paused at the same time and for the same reason. There were HUNDREDS of humans here, many shapes, colors, sizes, and races all packed together side by side. As the new visitors arrived, they lifted their heads sunken eyes and pinched cheeks demonstrating their defeat. They looked on with disinterest and apathy as the newcomers were shoved forward to join their midst. They did not speak, they did not laugh, and they did not rebel.

It was a terrible sight, the hollowness of so many humans given up from ever escaping their captivity.

Krill had never imaged something so terrible. So impossible. Humans didn’t give up.

Humans could not be brought low, but here was his proof.

They had waded a good way into the cavern by now, and at the behest of their captors, they were shoved to their knees to sit next to their dead-eyed counterparts.

Captain Vir took it upon himself to immediately make conversation with the next human over.

“Where are we/”

The human turned to look at him sad dark eyes glazed halfway with his defeat, “Does it matter?”

Captain Vir sat back frowning as the human went back to his contemplation. Head down, silent.

He took another look around the room glancing at Krill, “We could take them. There are so many more of us than there are of them. If we all moved at once, than there would be nothing they could do.”

Off to the side, the first lieutenant shook his head, “That doesn’t matter if they’ve given up.”

The captain frowned, “Than I guess we will just have to increase morale.”

The other members of the crew shook their heads in exasperated admiration. There was no getting that man down.

Captain Vir tapped his foot softly listening and waiting as the hours past. He kept his head down, but his eyes were sharp. Vir wondered what the man was concocting, what could he come up with that would lift the spirits of a thousand humans all at once.

There couldn’t be something that powerful, could there.

The hours dragged on.

Krill was just beginning to fade into his sleep-like trance, when Captain Vir sat up suddenly. The rest of the crew sensed his movement and turned to look eyes expectant and hopeful.

“What?”

The Captain shook his head, “You’ll see.”

And then he began to sing.

Just a small town girl

He stopped quickly as around him, the humans lifted their heads in confusion and recognition. The deep thrum of his voice echoed around the cavern causing an immediate shift as the other humans turned to see who was singing. Krill felt a burst of shivers run over his body, but despite the human’s voice, he didn’t see how this would help.

Living in a lonely world!

Around him the crew members shifted in confusion and surprise, but slowly they joined in. Krill wasn’t really surprised that they knew the song.

She took the midnight train going anywhere!

All around the room eyes were raised and bodies shifted.

Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit! He took the midnight train going anywhere!

A sudden crack of noise, and a soldier stepped forward, “STOP!” A whip cracked, the humans flinched. The captain clutched his arm in pain.

The cavern went silent.

The soldiers turned back to their duty satisfied the humans had been cowed. Krill slumped, oh well it was a long shot anyway.

And then, from across the cavern, a voice responded.

A singer in a smoky room.

The smell of wine and cheap perfume.

The alien soldier hissed and turned, but the singer had gone quiet. He stalked forward.

For a smile they can share the night it goes.

On

And on

And on

And on

Each time the lyrics rang out a different voice, or many voices accompanied it. Never the same person twice. The soldiers shifted around in circles doing their best to identify the source of the sound.

Humans weren’t supposed to have hive minds were they! Than how were they doing this!

Strangers waiting up and down the boulevard.

Their shadows

Searching in the night.

There were too many voices now, too many human voices rising into the dark making the cavern shake and ring.

Don’t stop! Believin’

Captain Vir turned to the crew a grin spreading across his face at Krill’s confused awe. Humans around them that had once slumped in defeat raised their voices to the tune of defiance. Eyes once dull sparked to life with the glow of human spirit rill knew so well.

“Now on to phase two.” Around them, the song was trailing off. They were moving to the end and the humans weren’t sure where to go, “A battle anthem.”

Thud thud Clap…. Thud thud clap

Grins

The rest of the crew easily joined in, and then the humans close to them took up the rhythm as easily as only humans could.

Buddy you’re a boy make a big noise

Playin’ in the street gonna be a big man some day

More feet, more fists, and a hundred more voices.

We will we will rock you

Humans were rising to their feet now straining against their bonds as the soldiers rushed around in panic and horror.

You got blood your face!

You big disgrace!

Now they were all surging to their feet in one mass wave. Soldiers everywhere snapped their whips and brandished their weapons, but there were so many humans, and they were so close. Their voices raised louder and louder till their overwhelmed any other sound. Krill felt as if he was being carried upwards on a wave of exaltation as the humans roared their battle cry. He leaped to his feet with them surges of pride and anger rolling through him.

Somebody better put you back into your PLACE!!!

Somewhere a set of bonds snapped. Krill watched in stunned shock as another man broke his own thumb in order to slip out of his bonds.

WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU

They moved forward like an unstoppable wave taking back their freedom in a matter of moments in the space of two iconic songs

***

The Captain says that not EVERY human knows those songs, but he had wagered to bet that the majority of them would know. It’s a weird thing about humans, they connect to each other in ways that other species don’t understand.

Their writers and their singers capture emotion and shackle it to their songs.

They speak through the ages with these emotions victory, and oneness that every human can understand.

The humans don’t understand the power of their collective understanding, and I don’t think they ever will.

You cannot capture the spirit or the pride of a human, you may hide it, or you may lock it away for some time, but there is no capturing, and there is no defeating their true nature.

You cannot bind a human’s soul.