#boy there is now why people aren’t hearing the rattle of all your chains from a mile away 😭

[moonilit]

Im feeling so much rn honestly like am i rubbing my head after knowing that ‘Red Dead of the Night’ is now Diluc’s canon Dark night hero outfit? or im i crying on the floor after knowing the outfit was Crepus’s gift to Diluc resembling his hopes and dreams of him?

The memes i want to make and the tears i want to shed

[tokyomanjihoe]

title: doves in the wind - t. mitsuya

doves in the wind - sza

warnings: 18+ content so minors mdni afab! reader, post timeskip, sub!mitsuya?, soft dom! reader, riding, cursing, bondage/restraint (mitsuya is chained to the bed), handjob, oral (m receiving), petnames, nipple play + breathplay. not proofread!

tagging: @wakaslut @kazuwhora @dejwrites @gabzlovesu @misss-chrisss (if you want to be tagged, lmk)

mitsuya was one of a kind. calm, collected and focused on his goals, only really focusing on the things that mattered to him. he was a family man, taking care of his sisters and buying them whatever they needed with the money from his fashion career. it was fair to say his loved ones were important to him, and you were no exception.

he was weak for you, so deep under your spell it was frankly ridiculous to anyone on the outside, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. not ever, and certainly not now, when you have his wrists bound by handcuffs and chained to your wooden bedframe.

he was naked and fully exposed to you, legs bent at the knee and you slotted comfortably between them, his hard cock in your hands, dark red nail polish gleaming in the lowlight of your bedroom. you stroked up and down his length, thumb collecting pre-cum from his pretty pink tip and dragging it down his cock with your downstrokes.

“so good for me, aren’t you takashi?” you hummed, eyes flicking up to meet his eyes, and he’s a sight to behold.

he’s beautiful like this, lilac hair stuck down to his forehead by sweat, lips bitten raw as he tries and fails to with hold his desperate whimpers. you never understand why though. why would he want to hide the sounds of his pleasure when they sound so sweet? it’s gratifying to you, hearing your boyfriend fall apart above you, hearing his whines when you lightly squeeze the base of his cock, feeling his hips buck slightly as you take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around the head and through his slit. you continue teasing him like this, dipping your head to take him completely everyone once in a while, hollowing your cheeks to hear the hiss he lets out when you do.

playing with him like this is so fun, you think to yourself. it was a vice of yours, really. he always looked so… delectable, his mullet perfectly framing his face and the confidence with which he held himself was nothing short of entrancing to you. he may be the one at your mercy right now, but he’s the one that had you wrapped around your finger. his obliviousness was his only let down, really. he never really knew why you were all over him, too engrossed in his designs and work to notice how people fawned over him. but that was fine - it was your job to show him the light.

you released him from your mouth with a pop, moving to straddle his abdomen. your hand caresses his face, the other smoothing his hair out of his face. he leans into your touch, eyes looking up at you so tenderly your heart leaps to your throat. he’s so sweet, the perfect boyfriend to you, and you truly couldn’t ask for more, which is why when he utters a breathy ‘please’, you can’t help but give him what he asks for.

you line yourself up with his cock, planting your hand on his abdomen to steady yourself. the stretch isn’t too bad, but his length is delicious, hitting spots within you that have you seeing stars and you clench around him once you’re seated, rolling your hips and basking in your pleasure and the sound of his moans. his hands fight against the handcuffs, the rattle of the chains echoing around the room, and you tut at him.

“come on, ‘kashi,” you coo at him, faux sympathy coating your voice as you tweak his nipples, a smile forming on your lips as his back arches and a broken moan rips from his throat. “let me take care of you. wanna make you feel good, baby. be a good boy for me, okay?”.

and he’s nodding at you, head bobbing feverishly and you dip your head to plant kisses down the column of his neck, hips grinding down on him. red splotches stain his skin like rose petals. a work of art.

he really is too pretty for his own good.

and true to his word, he’s a good boy, taking every roll of your hips, body tensing up with pleasure as you bounce in his lap. your moans mixed together, the sounds of your pleasure almost musical, intertwined with the wet slapping of skin. the pleasure you took from him so easily was irreplacable, sparking feelings in you that were unrivalled from any toys you had previously used.

in his eyes, you were magical, almost otherworldly. you were his muse, and god did you look amazing, tits bouncing as you rode him, head thrown back as you used him to achieve your high, hands moving around his throat to restrict his air. his eyes roll upwards, the feeling of your hands around his neck the trigger to his orgasm. he cums almost violently, stomach muscles clenching, almost folding him in on himself as you rode him through your climax, cumming alongside him.

you fall into his chest, body going lax from exhaustion and the two of you lay there, the sound of heavy breathing enough to calm your racing heartbeat.

you cup his cheeks again, elbow resting on the pillow beneath his head, thumbs tracing half moons against his skin. your lips meet his, and you kiss him softly

“my good boy,” you whisper into his slightly panting mouth. “the prettiest.”

[wangshuus]

delicacy | diluc ragnvindr

pairing: yan!diluc ragnvindr/gn!reader

genre: psychological

cw: unhealthy relationship, mentions of forced marriage, ooc diluc (lol)

wc: 2.6k

summary: to diluc, you are a delicacy that he wishes to savour.

note: i’m sorry in advance my dear readers this is absolute dog water ajfhaiufhfui. this was just an experiment since i don’t think i’ve written a decent yandere ever and this kinda proves it but it’s ok i’ll get there one day. just take my ooc diluc. yes, i know i screwed up real bad on this one but let's just say i loosened a few screw for the sake of the plot,,,yeah,,,i’ll probably need to proof read this again too but its ok ahhhhh.

“It’s useless to keep tugging at those binds. You know they won’t come off unless I take them off myself. Now, be good and sit still.” You heard a familiar voice. 

It was once a voice that you were delighted to hear but now the very mention of the owner sent a wave of striking cold upon your body, ironic considering who it was. You had no idea where you were, what day it was, or what time it was. You were completely clueless, being stuck in a dark room with nothing but a bed in which you’ve been bound by the headboard. The room was concerningly chilly, the air in the room being crisp, cold and suffocating. The figure in the room made their way to the edge of the bed next to sit next to you. You felt a gloved hand place itself upon your cheek. It was so warm you almost wanted to lean into it but you refused to find comfort in the touch of your detainer.

You were but a simple bartender, loyal to working at the famous Angel’s Share in Mondstadt. You previously resided in Springvale with your parents but moved to the city due to your job. Your family lived a happy little life, not drowning in riches but being comfortable enough to sustain a plausible living. In your head, you were so painfully boring; so here lies the question, how exactly did you get into this situation? Not even you knew the answer but one thing that you could make sense of in the whole ordeal was that the main that stood in front of you was mad.

Diluc Ragnvindr has many titles ranging from the renowned owner of the Dawn Winery to one of Mondstadt’s most esteemed bachelors. He claimed such a high and mighty reputation that no one would’ve guessed the devious intents hidden in the back of his head. Yes, you were a mere bartender that worked under him at his own tavern but ever since you were hired, he felt something stirring up within him. Now you see, Diluc wasn’t someone that you would find chasing after anyone in fact, he’s never chased after anyone at all until he met you. He was confused at first why he started feeling the way that he did when you were around, unfamiliar emotions began to bubble inside of him.

You were just so easy to talk to, so charming, so comforting, a breath of fresh air to him, truly. At first, he assumed it would be nothing but a short lived infatuation, expecting for his feeling to dissipate like a dying flame in a matter of time but this flame only burned bigger, brighter, and belligerent as the days passed. Diluc wasn’t exactly sure how his feelings came to be. Perhaps it was due to the loss, betrayal and tragedy that stained his past. Maybe it was his longing to be loved again, to hold someone close and never let go, or to have someone hold him and allow him to bask in the feeling of being lovingly embraced-- which was a feeling that became painfully foreign to him.

It had been so long since he found comfort in anything or anyone, becoming accustomed to being isolated, building up walls to keep everyone out and away. He had no one left to care for and presumably no one left to care for him, making the pyro wielder take on such an aloof personality. After his whole ordeal, he was never truly the same, so to see him look genuinely pleased by someone was such a shock to the public eye. Of course, you had come to enjoy Diluc’s presence as he stopped by the tavern fairly often to check up on the flow of business and you had the chance to talk to him during his visits. You had heard from others that the young man was awfully reserved and indifferent towards any subject matter but he was seemingly interested in any conversation between the two of you, even partaking in the act of idle-chit chat as a means to continue talking to you. Anything for you.

He was greatly enamoured by you; everything about you. He’s taken every second he could to observe you and your nature, falling in love with the little things about you from the way you brightened up the room with your cheerful demeanour, the way you gracefully made your way across the tavern during, the way your eyes twinkled when you were talking about him about something you loved--archons the way he wished for you to only look at him with those eyes full of an enthusiastic sparkle. He wanted that; and he wanted it all for himself. Once he realized this was the case, he went through a spiralling hole of madness. He found himself being obsessive with looking out for you, going above and beyond by following you in the shadows every chance he could get, his self control on his possessiveness running as thin as a strand of hair. 

Diluc was scary to say the least. His ability to deceive people into thinking he was still the reserved yet distinguished gentleman while he was falling into a pit of insanity was nothing short of terrifying. He remained unsuspecting and planned to keep it that way, deeming himself capable of being able to resist his maniacal urges. All until one conversation between the two. You had mentioned that your family had begun to run into a few financial problems, becoming entangled in a circle of debt. You had concluded that though you loved what you were doing, it couldn’t have been enough to support your situation so you had conversed with Diluc about going to Liyue to find extra work. All you knew was that there was a high chance you couldn’t stay grounded at the tavern forever, even rejecting Diluc’s offer of a raise, deeming that you didn’t deserve it and did not wish to trouble him. You saw this as a good opportunity to explore beyond the land of the wind that you had ironically been grounded at your entire life. 

Oh no no no, this couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t allow it to happen. And that’s when he snapped. 

Diluc’s mind worked quickly as he devised a dubious plan to keep you grounded. He knew what you were like; he knew you would be stubborn and go. He saw that shine of determination in your eyes when you mentioned your plans of fleeing Mondstadt, the same shine that he wanted to capture and keep for himself and oh boy, he was gonna have it. The next time you saw him, he had personally invited you to a party that he said he was hosting. You found it quite surprising since it was a rarity for him to ever host a party considering his nature but you accepted nonetheless. You trusted Diluc enough and besides, who would deny an invitation from someone like him. Little did you know, this was quite possibly one of the worst decisions you’ve made in your entire life.

“Dear, you’re spacing out again.” He spoke, a foreign tone that sounded so sickly sweet to a point where you wanted to hurl. 

“Please don’t address me as such. You’re twisted for doing this. What do you even want from me? Huh? I can’t offer you anything so this is nothing but a waste of time.” You spat at him, harshly pulling your cheek away from his grasp. 

“Your presence alone is enough to satisfy me. Also, I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting disobedient before I really lose my patience. I’ve been so patient with you, do you know that? I’ve been waiting for ages to have you all to myself like this but…” He paused for a moment.

“I was far too nice and considerate of your freedom. To think I’d let you leave just like that is absurd. That’s exactly why you’re here. I’d like to apologize in advance for tricking you into thinking there was an actual party, especially since you got all dressed up for me tonight but I believe this is quite the positive thing because now I’m the only one that gets to see you like this” He said as he gently lifted up a piece of fabric from your clothing.

“You wore the clothing I had custom made for you. I knew you would look ravishing in it. You’re my pretty little doll, aren’t you dear?” He said as he brought a piece up to his lips as they gently graced the smooth satin of your outfit. 

A strange package had made its way to your doorstep days before this treacherous evening. When opening it up, it was revealed to be a black and red outfit made of what felt like to be the finest fabrics and silk you’ve ever seen. The first time you tried it on, you felt ecstatic with being gifted to you, blushing to yourself over the fact that Diluc had gone out of his way to get you something this stunning. Now, you wanted nothing more than to rip the thing off your body and run away from the damned place you were held captive but you knew it was no use at this point. Your body shivered at the coldness of the room as it felt like the sheer cold was steadily increasing.

“You’re shivering. You’re cold aren’t you?” Diluc said, having the audacity to chuckle at your pathetic state. You stayed quiet, not wanting to admit or give into anything.

“No response? Oh well, it’ll only be a matter of time until the possibility of freezing to death becomes exceptionally high. I’d rather not have that happen so I’ll do you a favour since you happen to be a little shy isn’t that right? You don’t need to be shy with me. Come here.” He says as he draws closer to you. Your chains rattled while you attempted to put as much distance as you could between you two but it was no use. He swiftly wrapped his arms around you, one hand wrapped around your waist, the other at the back of your head, pulling you into the crook of his neck. Your hands pushed against his chest in a poor attempt to put as much distance between you and him but in the end, you couldn't bring yourself to. The coldness of the room significantly weakened you although it ceased when he held you, his body warmth being enough for him and yourself as well. You cursed the pyro wielder and his antics. He knew that you’d be freezing, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to get closer to you. Your arms fell back on to you sides 

“There you go, all relaxed now. See, nice and warm.” He cooed while stroking the back of your head lovingly. Although you were physically warm now, you still felt a shiver run down your spine at the touch of the pyro user.

“You’re sensitive to touch, how cute.” He stated before pulling away to look you in the eyes, the edges of his lips slightly upturned.

“On another note, I have some news to share with you.” He spoke out. Your eyebrows furrowed at the mention of more news, thinking there is no possible way that anything could get any worse; unfortunately, you were dead wrong.

“You see, I had the chance to speak with your parents the other day in regards to your financial situation. I explained to them that I was more than willing to help them but they became quite stubborn after I introduced my offer. I see where you get your stubbornness from now.” He sighed.

Your eyes widened, fear, anger and concern mixing in your (e/c) orbs. 

“Diluc, I swear to the archons what did you--.” He brought a finger up to your lips to hush you from your growing concern. 

“Hush now, there’s no need to get riled up, I’m not finished. Now quiet down and listen to me.” He stated.

“It was quite a simple offer I gave them, really. I would be a financial aid all in exchange for your hand in marriage. They started to get all defensive, claiming that they’d never marry off their child. They were oh so protective over you, but they could never come close to comparing to me.”

Dread and horror filled your eyes as you were rendered speechless, waves of unpleasant emotions washing over you like a tidal wave. 

“You see, it definitely took a lot of work to get where we are now, but you need not to worry, dear. They will not be of any concern to us anymore.” He said as a smile graced his features. You would’ve considered him to be handsome in the moment but the smile he held was so deranged that it was appalling. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, too afraid to even ask what happened to them or what became of them. You knew the situation; you knew the power that Diluc held. He was well aware of his looming power of you and he used it and abused it. It didn’t take very long for your tears to start streaming from your eyes as you began to sob, tears spilling onto your lap. Diluc cupped your face as he brushed away the oncoming tears that continued to overflow. 

“Shhh, don’t cry my dear, this news is excellent. I couldn't even fathom you getting hurt or even leaving me but I don’t have to worry now do I? Because you’re going to be all mine.” He said before forcibly kissing your tear-stained cheeks. 

You felt absolutely disgusting and embarrassed over the lips that graced your skin, having someone as unhinged and deranged as him seeing you in such a vulnerable and helpless state. 

“You know, I’ve had my fair share of people both leave and betray me.They’ve left me alone in this world but none of it matters now that I have you here. You’re the most divine person I’ve come across. So lovely, so warm, and so bright, like the rays of sunlight. I want to bask in your presence and now, I can for however long I’d like. I refuse to lose anyone else, especially not you and now this time, I know I won’t. If your freedom has to be sacrificed in order for you to stay alive, so be it. I’ll choose you the finest white attire for our special day. You’ll be me precious darling for the rest of your days. Doesn’t that sound lovely, dear?” You remained unresponsive.

One of his hands slipped past the fabric of your clothing as his gloved fingertips lightly pressed onto the bare small of your back, earning a yelp from you.

“I said doesn’t that sound lovely? Respond when spoken to. I want to hear your voice.” He said sternly. You managed to mumble out a small yes in return.

“That’s my good little darling.” He spoke before before he pulled you in for a kiss. You refused to return the action and it certainly didn’t go over his head. The hand that rested on the small of your back began to get hotter, feeling as if it was searing your skin, earning a shriek and a cry from you, allowing him to deepen his passion filled kiss, smirking at the way you’ve decided to submit yourself to him while his own lips remained locked with your own.

The land of Mondstadt was said to be the land of freedom and yet here you were, your fate bound and chained by the insanity disguised as love by Diluc Ragnvindr. You were a delicacy to him, and he’d be sure to savour every last bit of you. 

[athela-3]

dub-ble trouble

1.7k words; gen/comedy; sequel/companion piece to laughter is (not) the best medicine, so some things may remain contextless here; link skill CO 12% up-type nonsense; no content warnings.

Three days into Kazunari's doctor-prescribed silence, Misumi has an idea to let him be heard. After all, that's what triangle buds do for each other, right?

You think your cheap tactics can work on me? Yosh, here we go—eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen hit combo! Hah! Take your stupid DOT debuff and eat it!

“Itarun! Whassup, my man!”

“Hm? Hey, Kazunari.” Itaru's eyes don't leave his handheld console, fingers still dancing as he chains one attack after another mercilessly.

Wait a second.

Kazunari?

Itaru looks up just as the final crit finishes off his enemy, right in time to see the rest of the room also gawking at Kazunari with varying expressions of surprise. Well, almost everyone else in the room. Judging by his regular face-splitting grin, Misumi doesn't seem very concerned, while Kazunari himself is wearing a look of perfect cheerful innocence, looking every bit as if he hadn't been explicitly prohibited from saying even a single word.

A clink from the kitchen. The Director sets down her mug, brows knitting, and uh-oh, Itaru recognises that look on her face, that's the look Sakyo has when he's this close from a ten-minute unskippable scolding cutscene. “Kazunari. Why are you talking.”

Misumi turns to Kazunari, blinking slowly like a confused cat. “Kazu? Is that a question? It sounds like one, but not really…”

Kazunari nods, still wearing a smile bright enough to light a small village.

Misumi pauses. “Oh. Okay!” He frowns for a second, then opens his mouth, and then Itaru swears he hears Kazunari's voice say: “Aww, Director! It's all good! Sumi's doing the talking for me, so I don't have to say anything for real! Dope, right?”

Silence.

“Dude.” Itaru stares at Misumi, then at Kazunari, and back again. “Are you… dubbing him?”

“Yep!” Misumi nods enthusiastically, hair flying in all directions. “I asked Kazu if he wants to try it, and he said yes! I'm going to talk for him!”

“Huh?!” Tsuzuru, standing in the kitchen with a cup noodle in his hand, blurts out. “How do you even know what he wants to say?”

“Of course I know!” Misumi declares, something strikingly like indignation clouding his face. “Kazu and I are buds, so I know what he wants to say! Right, Kazu?”

Kazunari grins, throwing an arm around Misumi's shoulders. “That's right, Sumi!” he—well, not says, not exactly, his mouth and throat didn't move and the voice clearly came from Misumi's direction, but Itaru is forced to admit that was an eerily pitch-perfect imitation.

“Kazunari Miyoshi, CV: Misumi Ikaruga,” he murmurs. “Huh. Fancy that.”

Tsuzuru blinks, sighing deeply. “I feel like I'm watching a puppet show…”

Kazunari reaches a hand towards the playwright, and immediately Misumi jumps into action. “C'mon, Tsuzurun! This way, I can still say my lines when the Summer Troupe is practicing, and I can talk to you guys! It's faster than typing, too!”

“That doesn't make it any less weird!”

“Still,” the Director shrugs, “that's a good point. You can keep on LIME-ing things to us for daily conversation, but practice has been kind of tricky…”

Tsuzuru jolts. “Director—! You don't seriously think—”

“If it's for practice, why not? It'll help the others get the feel for their timing, and you have to admit, doing this sort of double-act takes a lot of skill and concentration. It's basically an extended role study.” She turns to the two, eyeing them pensively. “And like they said, it sure is faster than typing.”

“So you prefer dubs to subs, huh?” Itaru grins.

The Director shrugs. “We can try it out for today's practice,” she decides, completely ignoring his comment. Oof. “But no promises after that.”

Kazunari pumps his fist, triumphant, and Misumi mirrors him with an excited little hop. “Yay! Thank you, Director!” he shouts in his own voice, before following it with an in-character (?) “Thanks, Director! That's so poggers of you!”

“Really, you guys?” Itaru throws his hands in the air, letting his console drop onto his lap. “Isn't anyone gonna mention how scarily spot-on his Kazunari impression is? Seriously, you should consider becoming a voice actor.”

“Huh?” Misumi's eyes are round as melons. “But I already act with my voice!”

Kazunari elbows him lightly, and, oh, here we go, he wants to say something Misumi doesn't know about, doesn't he? On one hand, Itaru could step in now and explain how voice acting is a different profession from normal acting, but on the other hand, he could also wait this out and see how the dubber and dub-ee resolve this.

He expected pantomime, at least a few gestures, maybe even the return of of Kazunari's phone to type out whatever it is he intends to say. What he did not expect was a few seconds of eye contact, after which Misumi simply turns around and says, with perfect confidence is his telepathic abilities: “Whoa, is that really a thing? Can stage actors just switch and become voice actors like that?”

Tsuzuru slams his palms against the kitchen counter. “How?” he demands. “How do you do that? Miyoshi, was that even really what you wanted to say?”

Kazunari nods, and so does Misumi. Twin pairs of nettled glares pin Tsuzuru in perfect synchronisation. “We're triangle buds,” Misumi repeats, with every air of an older sibling who has to explain the same thing over and over again and is running low on patience, “so I just have to use my triangle senses! It's easy!"

Tsuzuru stares at them, confusion and frustration flashing into desperation across his eyes. Finally, he sighs, shakes his head, and takes another bite of his cup noodles.

“But, really. Can you switch from stage acting to voice acting that easily?” the Director echoes thoughtfully. “It's one thing to convey your emotions to an auditorium, but when your voice is all you have to go by… Without gestures, body language, or even eye contact, that's a whole different kind of practice, isn't it?”

“Funny, that's exactly what Azami said the other day,” Itaru grins. “But it does happen now and then. Sometimes they still do stage acting and only voice one or two characters, but some people change careers entirely. Like—

“I'm home!”

The door swings open, and in walks Tenma, eyes immediately seeking out the clock on the living room wall. When he notices the group congregating in the kitchen, he juts his chin and pops off a sincere, if somewhat exhausted, grin in lieu of greeting.

“Welcome back,” Tsuzuru says.

“Tenten! Welcome back, piko!”

“Hey, Tenma. How was the photoshoot? Did you have fun?” The Director smiles, and Itaru mentally adds it to his ever-increasing hypothetical list of Reasons Why the Director is Everyone's Mum.

“It was fine,” Tenma shrugs. “Regular stuff, just—wait a second, what was that?”

“I asked if you had fun.”

“No, not you, Director! Before that!”

“Welcome home, piko!”

And Tenma all but jumps in his own skin. “Hey! Aren't you not supposed to talk yet? You said it's going to take a couple weeks at least! It's only been three days!”

“Oh, here we go again,” Itaru rolls his eyes theatrically. “Dialogue re-triggered.”

“Kazunari didn't say that. Misumi did,” Tsuzuru rattles off, numbering the points off his fingers. “He's going to voice Kazunari for today's practice. The future is still undecided.”

“The future always is,” Itaru notes mildly, pretending not to see the dirty look Tsuzuru shoots him.

“It's all right, Tenma!” Misumi assures him, before adding in full-on Kazunari mode: “The Director gave us permission, so we'll be in your care, yeah?”

“Sheesh… Seriously, you guys?”

“It's not a bad idea,” the Director says. “Or do you prefer yesterday's drawing boards?”

“No! Not the drawing boards!” Tenma's eyes widen in panic. “That's impossible!”

“Aw, but I think your pictures were nice!” Misumi puts in, coated in pure hundred-proof sincerity. “I liked the beef with the face and wiggly bits!”

“The what?”

“Nothing! It's nothing!” Tenma shakes his hand in the air, as if physically swatting Itaru's question aside. “L–look, it's almost time for practice, right? I had to hurry back from the photoshoot for practice, you know! Don't just stand around like that, let's go!”

“You heard your leader,” the Director chides, though the twinkle in her eyes completely undermines any seriousness in her words. “You boys go ahead, I'll catch up with you after I finish my coffee.”

“Okay!” says Misumi.

Kazunari snaps a mock salute, complete with a wink.

“Yes, Ma'am! C'mon, Sumi, let's go, piko!”

And with that… dialogue? Monologue? Something in between?—the dubbing duo bustle out of the kitchen like matched whirlwinds, curtains fluttering and footsteps echoing in their wake, while Tenma trails behind with a considerable gap in energy levels.

“I'm never gonna get used to that,” Tsuzuru mutters as he watches them leave.

“Eh, could be worse,” Itaru offers philosophically.

“Like how?”

“Could be Citron doing the dubbing.”

Tsuzuru shudders, pain shooting across his face like a thunderbolt. He finishes the last of his noodles and drops the emptied cup into the rubbish bin. “Now, that's just…”

The Director shakes her head, half a smile tugging at her lips. “Relax, they'll probably get bored of it sooner than later. Just let them have their fun for now. Besides, it can't possibly get any weirder than this, right?”

[rosiehunterwolf]

For the Romping and the Roaring- Part 3

My submission for Day 3 of @serpentfever's Inhuman Event!

Link to read on ffn.net (Recommended if you are on mobile or haven't read the previous parts yet)

Preview:

Dammit, this was all his fault! He was so pathetic, how had he let this happen?

The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and he glanced up and caught sight of Borg standing outside his cell, staring at him.

“You almost messed up everything, you brat. I’m not going to forget that.”

The pain increased again, and Kai screamed, feeling his eyes roll back in his head as blackness swamped at the edges of his vision.

“Turn it down, I don’t want him passing out.”

The pain dropped suddenly, and Kai gasped in relief, tears streaming down his face. It wasn’t gone completely, though- there was still a faint buzzing emitting from the collar- not enough to be painful, but enough to put him on edge.

Enough to remind him that he wasn’t the one in control here.

(Full chapter under the cut)

Prompts Used: Chase, Dehumanized

Word Count: 9,206 (welp we're back to browser-crashing length again)

Rating: Definitely T, maybe like T+

Trigger Warnings: Dehumanization (obviously), Imprisonment, Torture, Attempted Murder, Drugs, Blood, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts (yeah… this one’s pretty heavy, guys. Probably the darkest thing i've ever written...)

Consciousness came slowly, as if the air around him was thick and sticky. A metallic tang filled his mouth, and his limbs felt weighted and heavy. Everything hurt, and Kai wanted nothing more than to just fall back into the comfort of sleep, but his head was throbbing too much to do so. Breathing slowly, he opened his eyes.

At first, he just saw more darkness, and he wondered if he had even opened his eyes at all. After a few minutes of just staring at the ceiling, though, enough light made its way to his eyes that he could make out the long, steel bars that made up the far wall. Shackles dug into his wrists, the chain only giving him enough room to move his hands up to a foot apart, and another restraint, around his right ankle, was attached to a chain a couple yards long that tied him to where it was bolted to the floor in the corner. His muzzle was gone, although there was a leather band strapped around his throat, almost like some sort of collar. The cell was completely empty except for a toilet in the corner, and a sorry excuse for a mattress against the back wall.

Groaning, he raised his hands and rubbed his face, slowly pulling himself into a sitting position. Immediately, fluid rushed into his throat, and he choked, spitting and sending blood splattering all over the concrete. Running his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he felt the puncture wounds and realized that he must’ve bit down on it sometime when he had been unconscious. Coughing up the rest of the blood, he forced himself to breathe slowly, trying to ignore his stinging tongue.

When he had gotten his bearings a little better, he squinted, peering through the bars. In the cell across from him, Nya laid sprawled out on the floor, her chest rising and falling steadily as she slept. There was a nasty cut across her forehead, blood dripping into her eyes. Kai tasted the air, trying to catch the scent of any other injuries she might’ve had, but the scent of his own blood flooded his nostrils, blocking out anything else.

Against the back wall of the room, between their two cells, was the other occupied cell, where Lloyd was curled up on his mattress, the ashy gray color stained red beneath where his injured leg was stretched out. His chains were similar to the ones Kai and Nya had, although a significant amount shorter, so he could hardly even move around the cell.

Forcing himself to jerk his gaze away, he looked in the other direction. A few more cells stretched down the hallway, but they were all empty.

They were utterly alone.

The only sign of life in the place was the thin crack of light from underneath the door at the end of the hallway. Apart from that, though, the room was pitch black.

Kai leaned back against the wall with a huff. He had really done it now, hadn’t he? Gotten them all thrown in prison- they were likely either going to die or be kept here for the rest of their lives. There was no way that Borg would ever give them any freedom again, now that they knew too much.

There really was no escaping this one, was there?

Augh, if only him and Nya hadn’t had that stupid argument, they would be safe, back with the others right now.

Kai wondered how long they had been here. Had the others noticed their absence yet? Would they try to come after them?

As much as he wanted to be saved, wanted Nya and Lloyd to be safe, he really hoped they didn’t. The last thing he needed right now was the others being thrown in here with them. He hoped they ran far, far, away and never came back.

Kai wished for nothing more than to be back with them now, to feel one of Cole’s strong hugs, or Zane’s comforting presence, or even to hear one of Jay’s horrible jokes.

Kai buried his face in his knees and cried.

He just wanted to go home.

A soft moan sounded from across the room. “...Kai?”

Kai lifted his head briefly, meeting Nya’s tired, scared expression. “What?”

“What happened? Where are we?”

“Borg found us. He’s keeping us prisoner.” He lowered his face back into his knees, not even having the strength to hold his neck up anymore.

“Have you seen him yet? Borg?”

“No.”

“Have you spoken to anyone yet? Has anyone come down here?”

“No.”

Sensing the frustration in his tone, Nya fell silent. He heard the rattle of chains as she paced around the cell. For a long time, that was the only sound he heard, and after a while, he laid, face up, on his mattress, the sound of the chains the only thing reminding him that he wasn’t alone down here.

It could’ve been minutes or hours later when a noise sounded from the other side of the room. Kai sat up, glaring.

The door on the far end swung open, and light washed into the room. Kai threw his arms over his face, hissing at the brightness of it. After only a moment, though, the light faded, and Kai lowered his arms to see the door had been shut again. Flashlights clicked on, shining down the hall, and Kai squinted, catching sight of two trainers, and a vet, none of whose names Kai could remember.

With them, was Borg.

Nya growled at him, gripping the bars of her cell. “What do you want with us?”

“What I wanted was for you to do as you were told,” Borg told her, shining the light in her eyes, “but you just had to go and mess that up, didn’t you.”

Nya blinked furiously at the harsh light, but didn’t back down. “You wanted us to stand by and do nothing as you killed Lloyd?”

“Certain words are not meant for certain ears, dear. You two shouldn’t have been there that night. You really did make things much, much more complicated than they needed to be.”

“Why did you do it,” Kai snapped. “Why did you ever shelter us in the first place if all you were going to do was kill us?”

“Not you,” Borg corrected. “Only the boy. He messed everything up. The rest of you were supposed to be incredibly useful.”

“Stop dodging the question.”

“Boy, I am not dodging anything.” He turned his flashlight’s beam on Kai, his face suddenly looking a lot more threatening than Kai had ever seen it. “You are the one avoiding the truth here. I didn’t ‘take you in’ from anywhere. I made you. You and your mutant friends are nothing more than a lab experiment.”

Kai fell back from the bars, breathing out heavily. He heard Nya gasp, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t look at anything, just at the ground.

“The truth stings, doesn’t it? You aren’t anything special, you aren’t unique. You were merely a trial for what is to come.”

“A trial for what?” Nya growled.

“You and your friends have been plenty useful. You have been resources to study, to sample DNA from, a test to see if we could contain you before we started making the others.”

Kai blinked. “Others?”

“Of course. You and your friends obviously didn’t work out- and you’re all too far gone now.”

“I don’t understand,” Kai asked. “Why do you want more… more people like us? You obviously don’t care about us.”

“I care about what you can do. Imagine the potential- a legion of seemingly normal people, such as yourself- who can, in the blink of an eye, transform into an army of great beasts! People who could fly, who could cross great distances in the blink of an eye, those who could hear our enemies coming from a mile away, or who could wield the strength of ten men. I’d be unstoppable!”

Kai and Nya exchanged horrified glances. “You’re building an army? What for?”

“Kai, my dear boy. Borg Industries is powerful, but we cannot do whatever we please. We still have so many regulations, limitations, and surveillance. Biotechnology, such as what we have developed, could change the world. But the world is deeply rooted in tradition, afraid of change. They would shun us, sue us for our groundbreaking discoveries, when we deserved to be praised and cheered for. What we need is more power. And power never comes for free. True power is only won through brute force.”

“You’ll never get anyone to comply with that,” Kai hissed. “We’re not objects, we’re living, breathing beings. You can’t just bend that to your will.”

“Oh, but we will. In time, anything can be controlled. We just need to make a few altercations to our future experiments. Something you and your friends have made incredibly easy by being our test subjects over the last couple decades. Your kind is really quite fascinating, you know.”

Kai bared his teeth and roared at him, but Borg merely laughed. “See, the problem with you is that we made you too human. Too sentient. There needs to be some balance, of course- a wild animal is untamed, it has no master- but a human being has too many weaknesses, too many thoughts of rebellion and betrayal.” Narrowing his eyes at Kai, he added, “Something we found out the hard way.

“We got closer with the child- his instincts appeared to be less humane, and he didn’t cause so much of a fuss.” He paused, frowning. “That is, until a few weeks ago.

“I think where we went wrong with him was the species. An oni and a dragon- two of the most powerful creatures known to man- we thought he would have unspeakable power. And he did- but it was too much, too much to be contained.

“But he has been a valuable resource- we shall use what we have learned with him to create a somewhat less powerful species. This time, we will get it right.”

Nya hissed at him, and he scowled, leaning over and spitting on her.

“The child has been very useful, indeed, but he has served his purpose, now. We no longer have a use for him.” Gesturing to the vet with one hand, she stepped forward, the carefully wrapped parcel in her hands now visible as she, Borg, and the trainers walked towards Lloyd’s cage.

“No!” Kai roared, jolting to his feet and racing to the bars. “Get away from him!”

“It’s for your own good. This child could off you in your sleep, if he so wished.”

Time was moving in slow motion. The door of Lloyd’s cage swung open with an eerie creak, and they filed inside. The vet unwrapped the parcel, revealing a syringe filled with a blue liquid, and a long, pointed needle on the end.

“Don’t you fuckin’ touch him!” Kai screamed, shaking at the bars of the cell. “You’re a deranged, psychotic, murdering bi-”

“Please, Dr. Borg, reconsider,” Nya whined, cutting off Kai’s violent string of curses. “We’ll be good, we’ll do what you want, just don’t kill him, please-”

“Shut up, the both of you,” Borg snapped. “We’re trying to work here. Nya, stop your sniveling, we know you’re not on our side. You’re no use to us anymore- Kai, stop trying to break through the bars, don’t you think we thought of that? Why do you think these cells are here in the first place? I had them made a while ago, as a precaution. They’re specifically tailored to counteract your special abilities. Nothing you do is going to break them.”

“I’ll kill you, I’ll find a way out of here and I’ll murder you-”

Borg sighed. “He’s losing it.” Turning to a trainer, he asked, “Turn it on, will you?”

The trainer pulled a small remote from his pocket, and turned a little dial.

Sharp, stinging pain shot through Kai’s neck, and he yelped, falling back from the bars and gripping at his neck- which was when he remembered the leather band there.

“I’m not-” he reached out, gasping as he wrapped a hand around one of the bars. “You’re not making me-”

The pain increased, and Kai doubled over, wheezing, his eyes watering. “Ahhh!”

“Kai!” Nya yelped. “Stop it, what are you doing to him?”

“Handy little device your trainers whipped up for you. Human shock collar. You like it? Except these things can deliver a lot more voltage than the kind people put on their dogs.”

“Stop it, please-” he moaned. Pins and needles were stabbing into his neck, the zinging reverberating down his spine.

“Do it, while he’s distracted.”

Kai pushed back against the pain, rolling his eyes up so that he could see Lloyd. The boy was still sleeping soundly on the mattress, although one ear was twitching slightly. Or maybe that was just the collar, vibrating him.

“Lloyd!” He screamed, the collar making his voice tremble. “Wake up, wake up, they’re going to-”

The pain increased tenfold, and Kai choked, falling to his knees. He gritted his teeth, and they chattered from the vibrations. He wasn’t giving up, he couldn’t-

“Lloyd!”

The roar ripped through the room, echoing off the walls and causing everyone in the room to flinch. Lloyd jerked awake, squealing as he caught sight of Borg and the needle. Leaping off of the mattress, he darted across the cell in a flash-

He stumbled with a squeak of pain as he tripped over his injured leg, tumbling to the floor. The trainers and Borg surrounded him, boxing him in as the vet approached slowly with the needle.

“Lloyd, fight! Fight back!”

Lloyd hissed in the vet’s face, fire shooting from his throat. The vet cried out, stumbling back. One of the trainers grabbed at him, and Lloyd whipped around, chomping down on her hand.

“He bit me,” she shrieked, pulling back. “The brat bit me, I’m probably going to get like, rabies or something!”

“You’ll be fine,” Borg snapped, “just stop him!”

Lloyd hissed in his face, jumping from the man’s hand as he reached for him-

Just as the vet stabbed the needle into his thigh.

Kai, Nya, and Lloyd screamed.

The pain from the shock collar barely registered anymore, the burning in his chest so much stronger. Kai gripped the bars of the cell, rage and fear and despair wracking his body so he didn’t even know how to function.

Borg had done it, he had killed him, he was gone-

Kai’s stomach heaved, and he turned away, throwing up across the concrete. How could this be happening, what had he done to deserve this, what had Lloyd done?

He hugged his knees to his chest, sobs shuddering through him, teeth rattling. He hadn’t even been able to save one person, he had failed everyone, Zane and Cole and Jay were going to hate him when they found out their baby brother was dead and Kai had done nothing to stop it-

Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like he was going to ever see them again.

Dammit, this was all his fault! He was so pathetic, how had he let this happen?

The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and he glanced up and caught sight of Borg standing outside his cell, staring at him.

“You almost messed up everything, you brat. I’m not going to forget that.”

The pain increased again, and Kai screamed, feeling his eyes roll back in his head as blackness swamped at the edges of his vision.

“Turn it down, I don’t want him passing out.”

The pain dropped suddenly, and Kai gasped in relief, tears streaming down his eyes. It wasn’t gone completely, though- there was still a faint buzzing emitting from the collar- not enough to be painful, but enough to put him on edge.

Enough to remind him that he wasn’t the one in control here.

Not that Kai really cared anymore. Lloyd was dead. Nothing mattered.

Kai wanted to die.

---

Over the next few hours- days? minutes? he didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care- weariness dragged at Kai, but sleep wouldn’t come. No, sleep would be too easy, too peaceful. Instead, he laid awake, staring at the ceiling as darkness sapped at his limbs. He didn’t move to the mattress, just stayed on the floor. Maybe the coolness of the concrete could alleviate some of the raging heat storming inside of him.

Every once in a while, he mustered the strength to crawl over the toilet so he could throw up. He didn’t know why he bothered. Being hygienic didn’t matter to him anymore. Nothing mattered.

After the third time, though, he had thrown up everything his stomach had to give, and when his insides kept churning, he just rested his head on the side of the toilet and dry heaved.

“Kai,” Nya whispered after a minute of this. “Stop, you’re just going to make yourself sick again.”

“I don’t care,” he rasped, his throat dry and raw.

“Damn that, I don’t want to lose you too.”

“We’re all going to die down here eventually.”

She fell silent at that. She knew he was right.

“You’re scaring Lloyd, Kai. Don’t let him see you like this.”

“Are you delusional, Nya? Lloyd’s gone.”

“Not yet,” she whimpered. “It… it hasn’t kicked in yet. I guess it must take a while until… anyway, see for yourself.”

“I don’t want to. I’m scared.”

“He’s here, I promise you.”

“What if it’s too painful? I don’t want to see him if I’m just going to lose him in a few minutes.”

“What if you miss out on your only chance to see him one more time?”

Kai was quiet for a moment. Mustering all the strength he had left, he slowly turned over.

Lloyd was sitting at the edge of his cell, staring at him. He was smiling softly at Kai, but his eyes were fearful. Kai tried to ignore how his ears were drooping, how his tail hung limp, and his eyelids heavy with sleep, one he would never wake up from-

Kai broke into tears, and Lloyd churred softly, leaning against the bars as he reached his fingers through. Kai did the same, although there was still a gaping distance between them.

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Kai choked through the tears. “I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve any of it.”

“‘s not your fault,”

“It’s not yours, either,” Nya told him. “None of this happened because of you. I want you to remember that, okay? Don’t… don’t think about that, now.”

Nya buried her face in her hands, whimpering. Lloyd leaned his face on the bars. “I love you guys.”

“We love you too, bud,” Kai whispered. “More than you will ever know.”

---

Sleep found him eventually- that, or lack of fluids caused him to pass out. Either way, some time had passed by the time he drug his eyelids open again.

Squinting, he realized there were people standing in front of Lloyd’s cell. Sounds filtered in slowly, taking a moment to come through clearly.

“-don’t understand, why hasn’t it kicked in yet? He should’ve stopped breathing long ago.”

“I’m not sure. This should have worked. It might have something to do with his lineage, I suppose- perhaps his genes grant him extra immunity to fight back against it.”

“That seems logical. He definitely seems very drowsy and sluggish, so it obviously had some effect on him-”

“But not the one we wanted,” a third voice snapped. As consciousness came fully, he connected the voice to Borg. “Apparently he’s immune to euthenasia drugs, now? What next? This is only more proof of what I’ve been saying- he’s becoming more dangerous. We should’ve killed him right away, that first night, when we had the chance.”

“It’s alright, sir, we still have time. He’s not going anywhere, down here. We can develop a stronger serum.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“With the right blood samples from him, I can be confident of it.”

“How soon can you have it ready?”

“A few days, a week- it’s hard to tell until I start.”

“Fine. But it better work this time. Or you’re fired.”

“You have my word, sir.”

Footsteps echoed past his cell, then down the hall. The sound of the door swinging shut determined they had left. Kai sat up immediately.

“Nya! Did you hear that?”

“It didn’t work,” she breathed. “He’s going to be okay!”

“For now. How long do you think it’s going to take them to make the new drug?”

“If I know Borg, I wouldn’t bet on long. We have to find a way out of here before we actually do lose him.”

“But how?” He breathed out, falling back against the wall. “We’re trapped here. The securative measures aren’t exactly light. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Nya was quiet for a moment. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I sure hope so.”

Nya turned towards Lloyd’s cell, pressing her face against the bars. “How’re you doing, Lloydster?”

Lloyd murmured sleepily at her, and she sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it didn’t kill him, but I hope it doesn’t make him sick.”

“Yeah. It seems like he’s just tired, but who knows.”

The door swung open again, and the two shied back from the light. Two people shuffled in, both unfamiliar, and Kai eyed them warily.

They were young, probably not much older than Cole. Kai was surprised that Borg was even letting them know that Kai and the other hybrids existed, not to mention letting them in their cell block alone.

The male stretched out his hand as he passed, letting his knuckles clack against the bars eerily.

“What do you want,” Kai snapped.

“Chill out, mutant boy, I’m here to feed you.”

Just at the mention of food, Kai’s stomach rumbled. His mouth watered, and against his will, he found himself leaning towards the man. He hadn’t eaten- or drank- anything since the morning of their capture- which, although he had no idea how much time had passed, felt like forever ago. He had even considered drinking out of the toilet at one point, but had decided he wasn’t that desperate.

Yet.

The man laughed at his expression. “Check it out, Em. They really are like animals.”

Kai clenched his teeth, surging up to the bars. “Listen, you punk, you don’t know-”

He was interrupted as his shock collar went off, screaming with pain as he rolled to his knees, frothing at the mouth. He heard shrieks from Nya and Lloyd too, but he was in too much pain to move. The rusty hinges of his cell door screeched as the man entered, laying two metal bowls by the wall. He felt his arms get tugged back, metal cuffs clicking around them. He wanted to kick and hiss at the man, hurt him while he was still within distance, but the pain from the collar stopped him.

There was a dry, rattling sound as the man filled his bowls, then exited the cell, locking the door firmly. Then, finally, the pain dropped away.

“What was that for,” he rasped, his voice still raw from the sudden shock.

“Couldn’t have you fighting back, could we?”

Kai grimaced. He glanced over at Nya and Lloyd and saw they had been cuffed too. “Why do we need handcuffs to eat? Isn’t that sort of counterintuitive?”

“Borg says you’re feisty. Doesn’t want to take the chance of you using anything that’s not bolted down to your advantage. Or to try and kill yourself. He wants to keep you around for a while yet, in case he needs to do any more testing.”

“You think I could escape- or kill myself- with a bowl?”

“You’d be surprised what people can do when they’re desperate. Now, eat up- unless you want to be handcuffed the rest of the night.”

Kai turned to the bowls, squinting at them. One was filled with a gritty-looking water that didn’t seem much more appealing than the toilet water. The other was filled with small, hard, brown pellets.

“What is this, dog food?” Nya scoffed.

The woman smiled. “That’s exactly what it is, sweetheart. What, you weren’t expecting a five-course meal, were you?”

“You can’t seriously expect us to eat this!”

“Would you rather have no food?” The woman asked sweetly. “I’m sure that could be arranged.”

Nya went quiet, but her nose wrinkled as she stared down at the food.

Kai sighed. As unappetizing as it was, it beat the horrible hunger pangs, or passing out from dehydration. He went to reach for the bowl-

Then he remembered the handcuffs.

“How the hell are we supposed to eat with our hands tied behind our backs?”

The guy smiled wickedly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, kitty.”

Kai felt his face turn bright red. They wanted them to eat from the bowl like dogs. This was humiliating.

But he was so hungry. He didn’t know when the next opportunity for food would come.

Leaning down, he scooped up a mouthful of the pellets. They were gritty and sour, one of the worst things Kai had ever tasted in his life, but at this point he didn’t care. He could hear the man and woman who had brought the food laughing and jeering behind him, and he tried to ignore it. It was this, or starve.

After he had finished the food, he burped at the awful taste, trying to suppress the urge to throw it all up. But he forced himself to lick the sides of the bowl, getting every bit of food he could scrounge.

The dry, salty taste of the dog food had only worsened his thirst now, and by this point he didn’t care how dirty the water looked, setting upon it with frantic laps of his tongue. He immediately found it to be much harder than eating. Water dribbled down his chin, so by the time the bowl was empty, his front side was soaked and only about half of the liquid had actually been swallowed. The man and woman got a kick out of that, joking that he had wet himself. Kai had never felt worse than this in his life. He would rather take the pain from the shock collar. He had wanted to go hide behind the toilet for the rest of the night, but knew that would only make the teasing worse.

After what seemed like forever, Nya and Lloyd finally finished their meals and the man and woman turned their attention away from Kai. The shock collars were turned on again, and Kai was once again helplessly paralyzed with pain as the man came in and removed his handcuffs, put the more flexible shackles back on, and took away the bowls. When the cell doors were locked, the shock collars were turned off. Kai forced himself to stay still until the man and woman were gone, but as soon as the room’s door was shut, he collapsed into a ball, hugging himself and shivering.

No one spoke for a long time after that, letting him know that he wasn’t the only one deeply disturbed by their experience.

Kai’s sleep was broken and feverish that night, filled with dreams of him, Lloyd, and Nya locked up in a giant kennel. Children kept peering in, poking their fingers at them and barking at them. They dressed him up in bows and made him do tricks, laughing and giving him dog treats when he complied, and zapping him with the shock collar when he didn’t.

He burst awake in a cold sweat, crying with relief when he realized it had just been a dream.

He didn’t fall asleep again after that, even though his whole body felt heavy with exhaustion.

The next time the door opened, he scrambled back from the light, hissing. His head was aching, and the darkness offered the only sort of comfort right now.

But he was ignored, four trainers walking past his and Nya’s cages and towards the one on the end. Instantly, Kai was at the bars, watching them carefully with bared teeth. If they tried to pull something again-

Well, what was he going to do? He was helpless in here.

Glancing over, he saw a pair of yellow-green eyes glowing in the darkness and knew that Nya was watching, too.

The door of Lloyd’s cage slowly creaked open, and a pair of trainers slipped in. Lloyd hissed at them as they approached, and they stopped. Slowly, one of the trainers reached out, and Lloyd snapped at his hand, and he yanked it away, barely escaping unscathed.

The other trainer grabbed an object from his pocket that Kai recognized as the remote to the shock collars, and Kai immediately shied back, trembling as he remembered the pain.

“Behave, mutant,” the trainer with the remote snapped. “Or we will not hesitate to turn this on.”

Lloyd looked at the remote with wide eyes, his ears pressed flat against his head. Kai had been in some of the worst pain of his life the previous night- or whenever it had been, his internal clock had been all thrown off by the dark dungeon- and Lloyd was less than half his size. He didn’t want to think about how hard it must’ve been on his little body.

Reaching down, the other trainer in the cell clipped something onto his collar, then unfurled it. It was a blue, leather leash.

The trainer with the remote pulled a key out of his pocket and crouched down next to Lloyd. He hesitated, giving him a pointed glare. “Remember, no funny business.” Swiftly, he unlocked the chain around his leg.

Lloyd bolted, immediately falling to the floor as the trainer switched on the collar. Lloyd whimpered, writhing, and Kai growled, “Stop!”

A trainer outside of the cage whipped around. “Be quiet, or we won’t hesitate to turn yours on, too.”

“Turn it off,” another one said. “He needs to have strength to walk.”

Lloyd fell still, chest heaving as the collar deactivated. “You’re not going anywhere, pet,” the trainer with the leash scoffed, giving the leash a sharp tug for emphasis. “So don’t even try.”

The trainers filed out of the cage, tugging Lloyd none-to-genly behind them.

“What are you going to do to him?” Kai growled. “Where are you taking him?”

“Your little mutant has proven to be quite stubborn,” one of the trainers scowled. “But our vets are some of the best out there. With only a few blood samples, we’ll have a strong enough drug, don’t you worry.”

“He’s lost too much blood already,” Kai hissed. “You can’t do that.”

“What does it matter to us if he passes out? The creature is of no value to us- in fact, that would only make our job easier.”

Kai roared at her, and a sharp jolt zapped through him. He glared at the trainers. “It’s going to take more than that to quiet me.”

“Careful. If you cause too much trouble, we might zap the little guy, too.”

Kai snapped his jaws shut, his gaze drifting to Lloyd, who was struggling to his feet as the collar tugged tightly at his neck.

“Come on, pet,” the trainer holding Lloyd’s leash demanded. “We don’t have all day.”

Lloyd stumbled after him, but after only a few steps, his bad leg gave out and he tumbled to the floor, crying out.

“Get up!” The trainer yanked on the leash, jolting Lloyd towards him.

“Stop it, he can’t walk on that leg!” Nya cried. “It’s still injured!”

“Then crawl,” the trainer snapped, kicking him forward, and Lloyd jerked onto his hands and knees, shuffling after the trainers slowly.

Kai watched him pass, his ears flattened and his tail tucked between his legs as he was yanked along by the leash, and felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach. This wasn’t right, it was humiliating and a blatant disregard of dignity.

He didn’t understand how he had gone so long in Borg Tower without realizing the signs. How they had always been viewed as lesser, as objects for Borg’s use. No one had ever cared about them. All the toys, the trinkets, the gadgets, the outings- had been nothing but a trick to make them feel like they were worth something.

Nya had been right. As soon as they got out of here, Kai was gonna let Lloyd be whoever he wanted to be, and not make him change for anybody.

If they got out of here.

Kai crawled into the corner of his cage and curled up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to ignore the depressing thoughts raging around in his head. He couldn’t afford to listen to them right now, right now he was just trying to focus on not throwing up. He didn’t know how long it would be until they next got food or water.

He was faintly aware of the shivers wracking his body, and wondered if he was coming down with something. He wouldn’t be surprised- he hadn’t consumed anything but dog food and stale water since they had been here, and had been wearing the same crusty clothes the whole time, too. There hadn’t even been a sink provided in the cage, not that it would do much to help him without soap, anyway.

Just another problem to add the list, he supposed.

It was funny how, before they had been captured, he had been so resentful and stressed about their situation, thinking it was one of the worst times of his life.

He would give pretty much anything to have those problems back, now.

---

“It’s been twelve hours since they were supposed to be back,” Jay yelped, pacing back and forth, his footsteps echoing sharply with an unusual agitation. “Even if something had happened, they would’ve come back by now, or at least called us.”

“They could’ve ran out of minutes,” Cole rationalized. “These damn prepaids don’t last very long.”

“But why wouldn’t they come back? Kai and Nya would never worry us like this, not unless they didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“I know.” Cole ran his fingers through his hair. “But maybe they escaped. Maybe they ran and didn’t want to risk leading anyone back here.”

“I hope you’re right. If anything’s happened to them-” his lip quivered, and he looked away as tears pricked his eyes.

“Jay, it’s going to be okay.” Cole reached out, setting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to find them.”

“You can’t promise that,” Jay barked, flinching away.

“No. But I’m going to do everything in my power to try. They’re our family, Jay. Family doesn’t give up on family.”

“I know,” Jay sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “I’m just scared.”

Cole wrapped his hands around him, letting Jay bury his face in his shoulder. “Me too, bud. Me too.”

Jay and Cole jumped nearly a foot in the air as the door swung open, and Cole let out a breath of relief as he realized it was only Zane.

“Did you find anything?”

Zane shook his head. “No sign of them anywhere. I even asked a few of the shopkeepers- as many as I could without raising suspicion, anyway- by showing them a photo I had. A few of them thought they looked familiar, but no one was able to tell me where they went or if they had seen anything out of the ordinary.”

“We have to do something,” Jay insisted. “If they’re being held hostage somewhere, who knows what they’ll do to them.”

“What can we do?” Cole asked. “I want to do something as much as you do, but we don’t have anywhere to start. We don’t even know where they are.”

“Maybe not,” Zane admitted, “but we can make an educated guess. The most likely reason that Kai and Nya have not gotten back to us is that they were captured. There are two main parties most likely responsible. Borg Industries- and the Ninjago City Police.”

Jay frowned. “How do we know the police are against us?”

“We don’t. But we can’t entirely clear them yet, either. If they found out Kai, Nya, and Lloyd’s secret, they could possibly see them as a threat and lock them up.”

“But if hybrids like us are such a rare thing, the news would be all over this if the police had discovered them,” Cole pointed out. “We’re basically living under a rock in here, but you would’ve seen something, like on TV or somewhere, when you went out, wouldn’t you have?”

“Fair point. So we can most likely conclude that it was Borg that found them.”

Jay put his head in his hands. “Last time we saw Borg, he wanted to kill Lloyd. If we’re going to do something, we better hurry.”

“Where do you think he’s keeping them?” Cole asked. “Borg Tower?” “That feels too simple,” Jay muttered. “He knows that’s the first place we’d look. But at the same time, I have no idea where else they would be.”

“We can’t just storm the building,” Zane argued. “There’s only three of us. Even with our enhanced abilities, it would never be enough to get through Borg’s headquarters. If we even knew where to begin looking for them, that is. Borg Tower isn’t exactly small.”

“What options do we have?” Jay whined. “We can’t afford to waste any time. We have no idea what Borg could be doing to them right now. And, besides, even if we could wait a while, it’s not like we’re magically going to gain more allies or anything.”

“We need to come up with some sort of plan,” Zane insisted, “Otherwise we’re going to end up getting captured too, which won’t help anyone.”

“You’re both right. We can’t go in without a plan, but we can’t afford to wait, either. And no one’s going to have an epiphany just sitting around here thinking. If we’re going to make a plan that’ll work, we need more information.”

“How do you suggest we get it?” Zane frowned.

“We sneak down and scope out Borg Tower. We don’t breach it, just observe what we can from afar.”

Jay glanced at him skeptically. “You really think we’ll be able to find out much like that?”

“Does anyone else have any better ideas?”

No one said anything.

“Then it’s settled. That’s what we’re doing.”

“When do we set out?” Jay asked.

“I would like to leave as soon as possible, but it’s just too risky. If we don’t want to get caught, we should wait until the cover of dusk is on our side. I also don’t think we should risk taking the bus at all, and it’s a few hours walk to Borg Tower. We’ll leave here late afternoon.”

Zane and Jay exchanged glances, nodding. “Do you want us to do anything, Cole?”

“I dunno. Grab something to eat, get some rest if you can. I have no idea how long this is going to take. Pack up the bare essentials, just in case we’re not able to come back.

“Come this afternoon, be ready. We’re going to get our family back.”

---

Cole stared up at the looming skyscraper in front of him, his heart pounding in his chest.

This was it. They were here.

“Keep walking, Cole,” Zane whispered from behind him. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

Cole picked up the pace, falling into step behind Jay, and melting into the crowd of passersby around them.

“What do we do now?” Jay whispered back to him.

“Just keep an eye out for-” Cole stopped, his gaze drifting towards the front doors of Borg Tower.

“What is it?”

“Over there,” he hissed, nodding sideways in the direction. Two people, emerging from the doors of Borg Tower, whom Cole didn’t recognize, but noticed the familiar outfits of the caretakers, had slung garbage bags over their shoulders, and were heading towards the back to toss them out.

“It might not be much, but it’s as good a place as any to start,” he whispered. “Let’s go!”

Subtly slipping past the citizens, he darted around the side of Borg Tower, Zane and Jay on his heels.

He froze in place as the muffled voices of the caretakers came into view. They were close. But not close enough. He needed to get closer if he wanted to be able to listen in.

If only Kai were here. Where was the guy with superhearing when you needed him?

If only they were all here. Cole just wanted them to be safe. He didn’t know what he would do if they found them and one or more of them were already gone.

But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Now, he had a job to do.

“Transform,” he whispered to the others. “You’ll be smaller, and easier to hide that way.”

With a flash, the three boys were gone, and a badger, a labrador, and a falcon stood in their place.

Crouching low to the ground, Cole edged around the corner.

The caretakers were hauling the trash bags into a dumpster a little ways down. Jay dropped down onto his belly and wriggled under the dumpster in front of them, Cole and Zane squeezing under after him, with considerable more difficulty.

“-giving us a lot of trouble,” the voices filtered in as they got within earshot. “I can’t wait until this whole thing is over and done with.”

“Have they gotten any closer with the drug yet?” the male voice asked.

“Somewhat, I think.” A second voice, the female. “They’re gathering a lot of blood from the kid, which seems to be helping, but it still could take up to a week.”

“What about the older ones? What’s he going to do with them?”

“Borg wants to keep them alive, for now, to see if they can give him any clues to where the rest of them are. I’m not so sure, though- they’re both very stubborn. I think they’d rather die than give up any information. Especially the lion one- he doesn’t seem like he’s gonna last much longer. We can hardly get him to eat anything.”

Cole clenched his teeth, biting back the shuddering breath. So they had been right. Borg did have their friends.

And, from the sounds of it, they were running out of time to save them.

“Do you have the key?” The female snapped. “We can’t have anyone breaking in here.”

“Here.” There was a jangle of metal as the padlock was locked, and then footsteps came sharply towards them. Cole shrunk back, watching their feet cautiously as they passed.

“Why would they need to lock a dumpster?” Jay whispered.

Zane’s eyes glinted. “The only logical solution is that there’s something in there they don’t want anyone to see. They must be hiding evidence. We need to see what’s in those garbage bags.”

“Zane, wait-” Cole hissed, but the falcon was already slipping out from under the dumpster where they were hiding, and over to the one the caretakers had put the bags in.

Jay let out a whine, and Cole crept forward, so he could peer out at Zane. The falcon was perched on top of the dumpster, sticking a talon into the lock as he jiggled it. The clanking of metal echoed threateningly through the air.

“Zane, stop,” he begged. “We can’t let them catch us, we have to wait until we know for sure they’re-”

“What the- I knew I heard something back here!”

Cole cringed back, and Jay yelped beside him as the man’s feet came into view. Cole quickly shushed him. The man had only seen Zane. Revealing themselves as well would only make it easier for him to connect the dots about who they were.

“Shoo, pest, shoo!” The man cried, running towards Zane but still keeping a respectable distance from the large bird of prey. Zane squawked, and Cole heard a flutter of feathers that he hoped was Zane flying away.

“What’s going on, Jake-” the woman called, her footsteps hurrying over and halting abruptly. “Holy shit! Is that a falcon?”

Cole cringed. It didn’t take a genius to know that falcons weren’t native to Ninjago City.

“It’s him!” she cried. “The falcon. It has to be! Quick, catch him!”

Cole shuffled forward as the two scuffled after Zane, who was shrieking and squawking as he flapped just above their heads.

C’mon, Zane, get them out of here-

The woman jumped up, catching his wing in her grasp, and yanked, sending a handful of tawny feathers flying. Zane screeched in pain, falling to the ground.

Jay yelped behind him, and before Cole could stop himself, he shot out from under the dumpster, and latched his jaws around the woman’s shoe.

She screamed, attempting to shake him off. “The other one’s here too! It’s got me, it’s got me, get it off!” She kicked, hard, and Cole went tumbling off her foot, right in front of the man, who raised his foot to deliver a kick-

The man stumbled backwards as something jerked at his leg. A yellow lab was sinking his teeth into his pant leg, holding him back. Releasing it, he barked loudly, running circles around the man as he tried to land a hit on the small dog. But Jay was too fast.

On his other side, Zane was struggling to his feet, oblivious of the woman running up behind him. Dashing past the falcon, there was a flash, and suddenly Cole was five feet taller, and punching the woman in the face with very human knuckles. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The man cried out as he tripped over Jay, and before he could blink, the dog was gone, and Jay was pinning him to the ground with a foot.

The man’s face dissolved into panic as Cole approached him. “Please, don’t hurt me, I won’t tell them about you, I promise.”

Cole paused, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Don’t do it, Cole,” Zane urged, now no longer a bird, and sitting on the floor. “He’s lying. He’ll run right back to them and we’ll be captured before the day is up.”

“I swear, I won’t!” the man begged. “I needed this job! I was told it was such a great opportunity, I had no idea what I was getting into! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Rich that you’re having a change of heart now,” Jay snorted. “You didn’t seem too concerned about us a minute ago.”

“Please, let me go, if they find me here and figure out I let you escape, they’ll kill me! I have a family!”

Cole glanced at the others. Jay looked uncertain. Zane looked angry. “I still say he’s bluffing.”

Cole glanced down at the man. The terror in his eyes was real, that was for sure. Relenting, he breathed out, taking a step back. “That may be so, but we’re not like them. Jay, let him go.”

Jay looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Slowly, Jay moved his foot, and the man bolted to his feet. Cole reached out, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt before he could slip away. Pulling him close, Cole gave him the hardest glare he could muster.

“If I let you go, you’re gonna run. Run as far away from here as you possibly can, and never come back. If you rat us out to anyone- anyone, Borg worker or otherwise- I will personally track you down and find you. And I’ve got the best tracker in the whole city on my side, so I won’t fail. Is that clear?”

The man nodded frantically, his eyes wide. His voice came out a squeak. “I swear on my life, I won’t tell a soul.”

“You better not.” And, with barely a beat of hesitation, Cole released him.

The man was gone in the blink of an eye.

“I hope I didn’t just blow it,” he breathed.

“I can’t tell you if that was the right decision or not,” Jay said, “but you were right about one thing. We’re not like them. If he tells anyone, he’s the scum, not you.”

“I know this sounds dumb, but I don’t think he will. I just had… a feeling.”

“Feelings and survival don’t mix,” Zane snapped.

Cole turned to him, where he still sat on the ground. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.”

“I’m not blaming you, I just don’t trust him,” he muttered, pulling his leg closer to his body with a wince.

Debate forgotten, Cole started forward. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”

“Just pulled out a few feathers, nothing serious. But I think I landed badly on my ankle.”

Cole crouched down, tracing his fingers along his ankle. Zane flinched back, grimacing.

“Sorry. Does it hurt bad?”

“Yeah. I think it might be sprained.”

“Hey, guys?”

“Not now, Jay. Do you think we could-”

“Guys!” Jay cried. “This isn’t really something that can wait!” Cole glared back at him. “What?”

Jay held up a small, black device. Cole squinted at it, adjusting his glasses. “What’s so important about that?”

“It’s a pager, Cole. It fell out of the caretaker’s pocket. If she used it, there’s probably Borg employees on their way here right now!”

“Shit,” he muttered. “We gotta get out of here.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!”

“Cole, I don’t think I can walk,” Zane admitted. “You two should go without me.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Cole fumed. “We’re family, we don’t leave each other behind!”

“I’ll only slow you down.”

Muffled shouts and harried footsteps came from somewhere nearby. Jay whipped towards them, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Hurry, guys, they’re coming!”

“Get on my back,” Cole demanded. “Now.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’m going to carry you. Now, hurry!”

Jay helped Zane to his feet, and his friend slipped his hands around Cole’s neck, wrapping his legs around his waist. He had only just about gotten into place when Cole took off running, Jay on his heels.

The lab hybrid quickly overtook him, sniffing the air and leading them down a maze of alleys and backroads. He glanced back at them, his gaze nervously darting to something behind him. Cole didn’t even dare look back.

“Hurry, Cole! They’re getting closer!” “I’m running as fast as I can,” he huffed, although he forced himself to put on a burst of speed.

“Cole…”

“I swear, Zane, if you ask me to leave you behind one more time, I will punch you in the face.”

Zane fell quiet after that, but Cole could still feel his reluctance.

“Cole, watch out, they’ve got-” Jay’s warning was cut off with a yelp as a net came hurling through the air towards them, snagging Jay’s leg.

“-net launchers!” he finished.

“Jay!” “Don’t stop, don’t stop, I’ll be out in a second-”

Cole gritted his teeth, and kept running, even as he passed him.

“Jay, hurry!”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Jay called a moment later, already at his side again. “But they’re getting closer! This isn’t working!”

“Stop running!” A voice called from behind them, over a megaphone. “You will not evade capture. You are only making the consequences worse for yourself. Give up now, and you will be shown mercy!” “Sorry, but last time Borg showed us ‘mercy,’ we barely escaped with our lives,” Cole retorted.

“They’re right, though,” Jay murmured. “We’re never going to be able to outrun them! We need a new plan.”

“Well, we don’t have another plan.”

“I might have one. Keep running, stick to the left roads, that’ll take you out of town.”

Cole snatched his wrist before he could dart away. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m gonna distract them. Lead them somewhere else so you guys can get away.”

“Will you two stop trying to sacrifice yourself,” Cole growled, “For five minutes?”

“I’m not sacrificing myself! I know these streets. I’m faster and more cunning than either of you. I can get away, if I’m on my own. I have no intention of getting caught, trust me.”

“It’s too risky. We’re not splitting up.”

“But-”

“Cole’s right, Jay. We already are down three members, and it’s going to be a whole lot harder to save them if there’s only two of us left.”

“I told you, I won’t get caught!”

“You can’t promise that,” Cole argued. “You’re staying with us, end of discussion.”

“Then what other plans you got, badger boy?”

Cole didn’t look at him.

“Over there!” Zane pointed. “Down that alley, about one hundred feet down, there’s a path hidden behind those vines.”

“What?” Jay snapped. “No there isn’t!”

“Are you forgetting who has falcon-vision here?” Zane retaliated.

“Just do it,” Cole hissed. “It’s not like we have a wide range of options, here!”

They darted down the alley Zane had pointed them down, and Cole scanned the wall for anything unusual. “Where is it?”

“Keep going,” Jay pressed, “We need to get through it before they round the corner or they’ll just follow us in!”

“Right there!” Zane pointed.

Following his finger, Cole caught sight of a patch of vines, the brick crumbling away behind it.

“Jackpot, Zane!” Cole cheered.

Jay scrambled through first, holding back the vines as Cole maneuvered through more carefully, trying to account for Zane. As soon as they were through, Jay yelped, “Go, go, go!” Cole’s lungs were killing him by this point, but he didn’t hesitate to race after him. He would be stupid to belive they were safe now. Already, he could hear the angry shouts of the Borg security officers behind them, and knew it wouldn’t be long before they found the broken wall.

But it had given them a moment. And, right now, they needed every moment they could get.

“What are… what are we going to do now?” Cole wheezed.

“We can’t keep this up,” Zane frowned, watching him with concern. “You can’t keep running forever. Not even Jay.”

“We need help,” Jay panted. “We can’t do this on our own.”

“Who’s going to help us?” Cole huffed. “We’re alone. Nobody has our backs in this.”

“I don’t know, maybe we can go ask someone. Those are houses over there, right? Maybe someone will agree to hide us.”

“They’ll probably think we’re escaped criminals, bozo. No one’s gonna agree to hide some random fugitive.”

“Well, what other choice do we have?”

“I… may have an idea,” Zane said quietly.

They looked at him expectantly, but he hesitated. “Well?” Jay yipped. “Are you going to tell us, or not?”

“You’re not going to like it… but there is somewhere we could go.”

Jay threw up his hands. “We don’t have time for this Zane, they’re gonna find us any minute! Just get to the point!”

“We could go… to the police.”

[ikeromantic]

A Kasugayama Christmas Carol

I think this is what happens when you’re playing ikesen on your phone and watching A Christmas Carol. I have no other excuse. This bit of holiday fluff is 3700 words (yes. omg)

Starring: 

Kenshin Uesugi as The Scrooge

MC as ‘the assistant’ or Cratchit

Shingen Takeda as Tiny ‘Tim’

Yukimura Saneda as Nephew ‘Fred’

and Sasuke as all Ghosts 

Kenshin did not like celebrations. They were a waste of time. Efforts could be better spent on war: preparing for war, training for battle, making swords and armor, building walls . . . And yet, every year in the dead of winter his assistant always wanted to celebrate. “It’s a holiday,” she would whine and ask for time off. Try to decorate. Make fancy food. What a waste.

This year, he decided it was enough. This year, no one would have a good time. Scrooge them, he thought. So he was ready when the girl from the future waltzed into his office, hands full of ribbons and origami stars. 

“You will get those out of my sight,” Kenshin ordered. His mismatched eyes were small and cold, and very cruel.

His assistant winced. “But Kenshin - can’t we have just a little celebration? I’ll even bring you some pickled plums and special sake.”

She was good, he thought. Tempting him like this. “That sounds - wait, no! You get back to your desk and work on those intelligence reports. I want to know who we’re fighting in the spring. How many warriors I’ll need to muster. How many swords . . .” Just thinking about the coming battles made him feel a little better.

It didn’t seem to make the girl any happier, but Kenshin didn’t feel at all responsible for her joy. She could cheer up and do her work, or do her work with a frown. 

Her head dropped, the smile falling from her face. The expression of pure disappointment almost made Kenshin change his mind - afterall, would it hurt so much to have a bit of cheer in the castle? But no. He was a man that never lost a battle. Not even a battle of wills.

It was well after dark when the girl stuck her head into his office again. “K-Kenshin? Sir?”

He looked up from his battle diagrams. “Yes?”

“C-could I go home now? It’s a holiday and - and my friends are waiting for me. I was supposed to get off work two hours ago but I was trying to finish everything first. I-It’s just too much for one day. Sir.” The words tumbled out of her mouth in a flood. 

“You can leave when you’re done.” Kenshin bent back down over his own work, annoyed at the disruption. 

He heard the girl slide the ricepane panel shut, her tread slow as she returned to her desk. “I pay her too much,” he muttered. “Such defiance. Deserves nothing.” But as he thought it, he remembered he didn’t actually pay her at all. She’d been a chatelaine for his enemies - he captured her, brought her back and, well, she had to have something to keep her busy. So all in all, hiring her was a pretty good investment.

Midnight neared and it was only then that the girl wearily stood, stretched her arms and back, and then trudged toward Kenshin’s office. This time she didn’t even open the door. “I finished,” she told him. Her voice was low and weary. Exhausted. 

“Then I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow to start on the next batch!”

“Lord Kenshin . . . please . . . could I have tomorrow off to spend with my friends? I - I mentioned it’s a holiday?” Her pleading took on a desperate note. 

“I suppose you’ll be spending it with those other poor fools. Tiny Shingen and my nephew Yuki. Wasting a whole day to make merry!”

She squeaked something that sounded like a yes. 

Kenshin frowned. This wasn’t what he liked hearing. Normally, her voice was sweet. He liked to hear it call out to him through the day, masking irritants like chirping crickets or squawking birds. She knew his tastes very well . . . “Gah, fine! Take the day off! But it’s coming out of your salary.”

“My Lord, you don’t pay me. So . . . I guess I’ll see you the day after tomorrow?” 

“I said so, didn’t I?” He tapped his fingers on the desk in annoyance. He’d like to give her one last, good glare before she took off but the door was shut. 

“Th-thank you, my lord! Have a h-happy holiday!” Her rapid footsteps, almost skipping across the boards gave the lie to her earlier exhaustion.

“I should work her harder,” Kenshin muttered. “Then she wouldn’t have time to make friends besides me. I mean - that she would miss because she’s busy working. I don’t have friends.” 

The lonely warlord eventually put his own work away and settled down for a nightcap. Warm sake and some pickled plums. Then he went to his room, dressed for bed, and lay down. Usually, he’d fall asleep as soon as his head met the mat, but tonight he just couldn’t seem to get settled. 

Wind made the branches outside creak, and the window panes rattled. Eventually though, his eyes drifted shut. Welcoming darkness. Dreams he would not remember come morning. Or so he thought.

Ghost of Sasuke

No sooner had Kenshin began to drift into dreamland than he was woken by the clanking of heavy chains and a grumbly voice. 

“Keeeenshiiiiiiin,” the disembodied voice groaned. And the clanking grew louder and closer.

The warlord’s eyes went wide and he stood, grabbing his beloved sword Himetsuru Ichimonji. “Who’s there,” he shouted, swinging the blade in a wide arc.

“It’s me. Sasuke. Don’t you remember me, Kenshin?”

And then in the darkness, a face materialized. Glasses, fluffy brown hair, and a pale green neck scarf.

“What’s wrong with you? Why do you look so pale? And your skin . . .” Sasuke’s skin gave off a pale glow. Kenshin pointed the tip of his sword at the ninja.

“I died, Kenshin! Because of youuuuuuuu . . .” The Sasuke-ghost wailed, and his hands shot out of the darkness to grab at Kenshin’s nightrobe. 

The warlord scrambled back, away from the spirit. “No! That’s not possible. I think I’d remember if you died.”

“Your training . . . killed me,” the Sasuke-ghost whispered.

Kenshin shook his head. He had trained Sasuke hard - hard enough to turn him into one of the best ninja in a generation. But he hadn’t killed him. Had he?

The ghost came closer, chains clanking. “Now, because of you, I am bound for eternity to suffer. Because I went along with all your violent schemes. I enjoyed war too . . . and now I will pay for it. Forever!” 

“I don’t believe a word,” Kenshin growled. “You’re not really here. This is just a bit of undigested plum. An upset stomach from a bad batch of sake. Spirits aren’t real. And my ninja isn’t dead!”

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not.” The spirit drew back into the darkness, disappearing from sight. “I only came to warn you, Kenshin. Tonight, you will be visited by three ghosts. The completely original and definitely not trademarked Ghost of Holidays Past, Present, and Future. You must listen to them. Or else.”

Kenshin laughed coldly. “I am not afraid of you, spirit. Or these . . . not . . . trademarked . . . ghosts. Let them come!”

There was no answer. 

The warlord waited, crouched and tense. Nothing else happened. Tired and even more annoyed, he went back to bed. “Have to stop eating pickled plums so late at night,” he murmured. Then rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.

Ghost of Holidays Past

His eyes barely shut when a strange laugh startled him awake again. 

“Ho ho ho,” the laughter boomed, and a finger tapped Kenshin on the shoulder.

The warlord leapt up and started to reach for his sword, but the absurd sight in front of him stopped him in his tracks. A face that seemed old and young all at once, with a beam of light pointed up from its head. He thought for a moment that it was Sasuke again - the thing had glasses on, just like the ninja, but this spirit wore a strange gown and wide, dangerous smile. 

“Who - what are you?” Kenshin inched away from the thing, beginning to feel a bit nervous.

“Didn’t I - I mean, Sasuke, warn you I was coming? I am the Ghost of Holidays Past, Kenshin. And I have come to show you things you’ve forgotten.”

The warlord got to his feet. “I haven’t forgotten anything. So you can leave. I am tired and I want to go to bed now.”

“Oh, I think not Uesugi. You are coming with me.” And the spirit grabbed his hand. The thing’s skin was cold and clammy, like holding to a fish. It led Kenshin out of his room and into a bright-lit hallway. There, people were wasting time and making merry. There were bunnies with colorful ribbons on their necks, and a girl . . .

Kenshin gasped. For a moment she looked like his assistant - the Oda captive and timetraveler. But then he realized it was Isehime. And the boy beside her - was him? It was hard to tell. The face was young and he couldn’t make out the eyes but . . . the boy was wearing his clothes and playing with Isehime and the rabbits. They were laughing together. 

“Do you remember now? The joyful times you had before?”

Kenshin blinked. He absolutely was not crying. It was just dust and the bright light. Yes. He scrubbed a hand over his face and turned to the spirit. “I don’t want to see this anymore. I’m going to bed.”

The Sasuke-similar Ghost of Holidays Past nodded. “I can’t force you to watch. But I think perhaps I’ve jogged a memory loose.” He let go of the warlord’s hand.

Kenshin stumbled back to his room and slid the door shut. What an awful vision that had been! His memories of Isehime came rushing back - all of the good times they had before cruelty and politics ended their youth. Had it been worth it to waste all that time in fun? He shook his head. No. No. That was for children too foolish to know better.

“Enough, spirits,” he growled as he got back into his futon. “I don’t want you showing me anything else.”

Ghost of Holidays Present

Kenshin’s order barely left his lips before another spirit arrived. Just like the last one, it wore glasses too. But this one had a big, bushy beard and a round belly.

“Ho ho ho! I am the Ghost of Holidays Present, here to show you what you’re missing!” The spirit stopped speaking for a moment to adjust his beard. It was slipping sideways as he spoke. “We have a journey tonight, Uesugi. Now come on!” The ghost leapt onto the window sill and held his hand out.

“This is foolish,” Kenshin grumbled. But he stood up and took the spirit’s hand anyway. “You aren’t going to show me anymore visions of . . . her - of Isehime - are you?”

“No. That was past. This is present. You see, the time-differential really isn’t that complex when you take into account the potential for flexion in dimensional space as relates to - ah - I mean, ho ho ho! Let’s uh, go!” The ghost grabbed the offered hand and pulled Kenshin out the window.

“Are you sure you aren’t my ninja?” Kenshin asked, eyeing the spirit as it led him through Kasugayama.

“Who me? No! I’m just your friendly neighborhood ghost.” He poked his round belly. “Your ninja isn’t fat like I am right?” He *carefully* tugged his beard. “And he doesn’t have a beard, right?”

“That is true,” Kenshin agreed. “Just when you were talking. It sounded like the nonsense he says sometimes.

“It’s not nonsense,” the ghost began, but stopped to point. Ahead, there was an open window. Warm lantern-light spilled out onto the snowy ground. Inside, Kenshin could see his assistant. Only . . . she was beautiful. Her hair was down and she was smiling so brightly it made his heart clench in his chest. 

“What - what is this? What are you showing me, spirit?”

“Kenshin, this is the holiday-that-is. Watch.” The ghost let go of his hand.

A figure came up behind the girl, a large man with light brown hair and grey eyes. Kenshin remembered him - a former warrior everyone called Tiny Shingen - a joke, as he was not at all small. He was smiling too. Kenshin’s assistant turned around to look at him and Shingen lifted her up, starting to spin her around. But he stopped, pain twisting his smile into a pained grimace. He began to cough and grabbed at his chest.

“Oh, Shingen. I’m so sorry. If only I had more . . . firewood, yes, firewood to ah, to keep our little home warm. Then you wouldn’t cough so!” She went to a small stove and picked up a kettle to pour Tiny Shingen a cup of tea. 

Another man entered the room - one Kenshin knew all to well. His always cheerful nephew Yuki. He was Kenshin’s last living relative, but honestly, the warlord couldn’t stand him. He was always giving away things and being . . . kind. Not the type of behaviour a war-focused warrior ought to be engaging in. Seeing him here made Kenshin think the boy had too much free time on his hands. He ought to make him train more. Maybe send him out scouting . . .

The girl gave Yuki a hug and he squeezed her tight. The sight sent a dangerous current through Kenshin. No one ought to be touching her like that. So intimately. She was his captive! His assistant! But . . . she looked so pleased. Had she ever smiled at Kenshin that way?

The three of them huddled around the small stove for warmth. But they all looked so happy. Chatting and laughing. As if even this meager life was worth living. 

Kenshin couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed from joy or pleasure. Or hugged. He wondered if he still knew how. He tried out a ‘happy’ laugh. It sounded like a dry cough. Worse than Tiny Shingen.

“Um, what was that?” The ghost gave him a side-eyed glance.

“Nothing.”

“Ah, right then. I think that’s enough. Let’s go back to your room.” The spirit turned to go.

Kenshin grabbed his sleeve. “Wait! Tell me, spirit. Is this really happening? Or is it just a vision, like what I saw from my past?”

The ghost nodded. “It is really happening. Right now. These people are celebrating and joyful, just to be together. Even though you’ve denied them so much . . .”

Kenshin nodded slowly. Perhaps . . . war wasn’t the only thing. He could try to relax. Just on holidays. Maybe pay his assistant. Or. Give her a hug. He smiled at the thought. It might even be pleasant. 

When he got to his window, he stopped and asked the ghost. “Is there one more of these visits tonight? I - I think I’d like to see more of my assistant.” He wasn’t sure why he felt hesitant to ask, but these sights stirred something uncomfortable in him.

“There will be one more visit, Kenshin Uesugi. One more spirit. The Ghost of Holidays Future.” And then in a sudden poof of smoke, the Ghost of Holidays Present was gone.

Kenshin climbed back into his room through the window and sat down on his futon to wait. He was almost excited. 

Ghost of Holidays Yet To Come

Kenshin did not have long to wait. There was a rustling outside his window. When he turned his head to look, all he could see was darkness.

“Come, Kenshin Uesugi. I have things to show you.” The voice came out of the darkness, echoing and cold. Nothing like the previous ghosts of the night.

Still, Kenshin really wanted to see more of his assistant. What she would be doing the next year, for example. Perhaps this ghost could show him a future where Kenshin and the girl played with ribboned rabbits and hugged each other. 

He stepped out into the darkness. In it, he could just make out a form. Heavy robes covered the body, and over the face, a mask. Horned, with bulging eyes and sharp fangs. Like a shinigami, he thought. But he was Kenshin, God of War. Demons did not scare him.

The ghost said nothing, only turned and began to walk.

“Should I follow? Where are we going?” Kenshin hurried after the spirit.

There was no reply. But soon, it became apparent where they were headed. Out of the darkness, a crowd of stone monuments and the gentle slopes of ancient kofun. 

Kenshin stopped. “Wait, spirit. Why are we going to visit graves? Aren’t you supposed to show me holidays?”

The ghost turned and from the depths of its sleeves rose a bony hand, fingers curled in a universal come-hither gesture. 

Feeling unnerved, and wishing he’d brought his sword, Kenshin continued on. Into the dark graveyard. The figure stopped before a fresh dug grave, the marker laying on it’s side nearby. 

The ghost took a lantern from its vest and lit it with a flick of its fingers. In that dim, flickering light, the warlord could just make out the characters carved into stone. Uesugi Kenshin. 

“What? No! I am the undefeated God of War. Nothing can kill me. I should know. I’ve tried.” He put a hand to his mouth surprised by the honesty this spirit coaxed from him. He looked up at it. “What - what is it that kills me? Poison? An assassin? Sickness?”

“Bitterness,” rasped the cold voice. And it gestured to several fresh graves nearby. On them, Kenshin could make out the names of his assistant, and her friends. His nephew Yuki. Tiny Shingen. And Sasuke. 

“Then. This is all my fault?” He knew he’d caused countless deaths on his many campaigns. Soldiers that came to his banner, and numberless enemies. But this was different. If the spirit was right, they would die because of the flaw in his soul - not from some hostile force. 

He swallowed, feeling again the hot sting of unshed tears. “Why do you show me this? Do you think I can change? I have reasons! I have lost . . . so much. If I open my heart again, then what?”

The spirit gestured with a bony finger back toward Kasugayama. There, silhouetted against the city’s lanterns, the form of a girl. His lovely assistant. Could things be different between them? Could he learn to be more than her captor and taskmaster? Kenshin wasn’t sure, but he decided in that moment to try. He was, afterall, the undefeated God of War. It would be ironic if he was his own undoing.

“I think I understand,” he said wearily. “I want to change. I do. I don’t know how but . . . I will try.”

“And you will have help,” the ghost said quietly, in a voice so like Sasuke that it made Kenshin look twice. It laid a hand on the warlord’s shoulder. “Now go home and sleep. Dawn comes.”

Kenshin obeyed. He felt bone-tired, his chest hollow with regret. 

Holiday Epilogue

The morning dawned bright and early. Kenshin woke to the song of birds, and the bustle of the castle. He felt energized. Purposeful. He got up and put on his best clothes, then began summoning servants. There were so many things to get done! Food, wine, music - and decorations! Yes! 

His vassals clearly thought he’d lost his mind, but they knew better than to disobey. His years of harshness served him well in organizing a feast - and not just for his vassals. For the whole town. He wanted everyone to celebrate with him- on this new day, where anything could happen.

When the people gathered and began filling their plates, a gentle sweet voice spoke up behind him.

“Kenshin. Did you really set all this up?” 

The warlord turned, and there she stood. The captured Oda princess, his assistant - no, if he was honest, his slave. But no more. He knelt and took her hand. “I am so sorry for all I have put you through. Today - today is the first step in making it up to you.” He turned his mismatched eyes from her hand up to her gaze. She was wide-eyed, cheeks pink. “Can you forgive me,” he asked.

“I already did,” she smiled. And there it was. That brilliant warmth that made his heart pound. 

“You are too good for this world,” he sighed. “I want you to know - if you want to leave, you can. But if you stay . . . if you stay, I’d like to treat you like a princess. An Uesugi princess.”

She pursed her lips, thinking. “I don’t want to go. I have friends here now. But, what about them? Tiny Shingen needs medical care. And Yuki - he needs etiquette lessons and some time in a hot bath -”

“What did you say, boar woman?” Yukimura shouted at them from across the courtyard, where the feast was laid out. 

Kenshin stood. “Nephew! Come here! I want to apologize.”

“No thanks! I uh, already forgive you too! But I prefer to stay out of stabby range.” Yuki chuckled as he said it, but he didn’t get any closer. 

The girl smiled and squeezed Kenshin’s hand. “It will take time to show him you changed.”

The warlord nodded. “I suppose it will. But in the meantime - I will have the best doctors look after Shingen. Is that . . . alright?”

“I’m sure Shingen will appreciate that,” she replied.

“Is that a goddess with my name on her lips,” asked Shingen as he stepped out into the courtyard. 

Kenshin felt a spike of jealousy, but he took a breath and smiled. “Please don’t flirt with my assistant. Just . . . go get some sweets and wait for the doctors to arrive.”

Shingen’s smile was wide. “I haven’t even started to flirt, Kenny. But alright. I am feeling peckish. I’ll be back later to see how my angel fares.”

Sasuke flipped down from a nearby roof to land in a one-knee crouch, superhero style right in front of his lord. “I might have a better idea for Shingen’s care my lord. If I can offer.”

“I thought you were dead. I saw your ghost.” Kenshin reached out and grabbed Sasuke’s cheek, pinching it. “You feel real enough though.”

For some reason, Shingen and the girl were laughing. Yuki was too, from his spot across the yard. 

“I assure you - I am very muth alive. Pleath let go of my cheek.”

Kenshin released his ninja. “So you are. You can tell me all about this idea later. Today, we celebrate. It is . . . a holiday.” And he smiled down at his assistant, who still held one of his hands.

[fae-redux]

im stuck on you

S: People usually find their soulmate by following their heart (the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you’ll feel). Remus has been pining for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

P: dukeceit

happy birthday, @littlemisschameleon!! it’s corona and i can’t give you a physical present so have some dukeceit soulmate au!! i hope you like it :D (here’s an ao3 link if yall like that formatting better)

***

Remus sends the letter because Roman’s teacher thinks a penpal will help him learn English. Also, because Roman thinks it’s stranger danger and won’t. 

If he gets kidnapped, at least there’s a chance for his heart to feel warmer whichever direction his kidnapper goes. Fact remains, he’s freezing and bored and he’d do pretty much anything to not be.

He neglects to say that in the letter. 

His penpal instead receives the gift of approximately two full pages of fun facts about different species of mushrooms and how fast they can decay different animals. It’s pretty well written, if he says so himself, and it’s all in English because he’s polite, not because it has to be.

Any who, Ms. Andrea says she’s not going to read the letters before they’re sent, and Roman is only required to send one at a time, so Remus signs it with his own name and lets it go.

He doesn’t expect the letter he gets back to be so nice.

His penpal’s name is Janus and he doesn’t like to eat mushrooms unless they’re in fried rice, but he loves how mushrooms look.

There are little mushroom doodles that line the bottom, along with a few snakes, which Janus goes on to say is because they’re his favorite animal because of the way they unhinge their jaws.

Remus has never wished to be in the same school as someone more.

***

The next letter they write to each other includes their emails, and Remus takes full advantage of it to send Janus all the deadliest snakes he’s found out about in the library, and includes a pain scale with human accounts of getting bitten.

Janus sends back a heart and fun facts about the deadliest octopi in the ocean. 

He feels his heart get slightly warmer when he hugs the monitor, and when he loudly proclaims he found his soulmate, he gets a laugh from Roman.

He asks him what his plan is here, and Remus tells him to shut his fuck and keep his nose out of it if he doesn’t want to get smacked.

***

When they’re old enough to have phones, they exchange cell numbers, and Remus gets daily updates instead of sporadic emails.

He finds out that Janus likes to dress a little more on the punk side and that he wants a million tattoos as soon as he’s old enough. Janus tells him about foster homes and how he thinks he might be sticking with one of the other kids he met who is a little older than him, but is sort of like him. 

Janus is smart, smarter than anyone he’s ever met in real life, and he wants to go to law school because he knows he can talk his way out of hell if the devil asked him to try, and Remus is inclined to believe he could do it if he wanted to. He thinks through all his words, his every movement, ten times before he follows through, unlike Remus’ zero-thought policy.

He learns that Janus likes boys, but there aren’t really other people in his hometown like him, and that he wants to study in a big city someday so he’s not so alone. 

He learns that Janus wants to keep talking to him forever, or at least that’s what he tells him.

Remus in turn tells him about his brother, and their origin story. He tells him about how everyone else just seemed to have grown out of curiosity and how he feels out of touch with other people his age sometimes. 

There’s still a part of him that feels like he’s been touching all the stars in the sky, but none of them have set his orbit quite right, leaving him drifting endlessly.

He tells him that he might like boys too, but he doesn’t really want to tell his mom because she already rags on him for everything else, like wanting to go to art school and his knife collection and how he’ll never meet his soulmate with an attitude like his. 

He doesn’t tell him about the small seed of doubt in the back of his head that Janus won’t want to stay if he ever meets him in real life. 

He tells him he wants to keep talking forever too.

***

They don’t ever talk about meeting in person. For the first time in their lives, they’re in the same city, but every time he goes to bring it up, seeing a picture of Janus in the financial district, or near his favorite Starbucks, something makes him hesitate. 

Remus wants it so bad, it feels like all the air in his lungs isn’t real sometimes, or like something cut up his insides then spooned all the pieces out to replace them with ice. Still, the thought lingers in the back of his mind that Janus hasn’t suggested it for a reason. 

They still talk all the time though, whether it's to rant about professors, or homework, or siblings, or just about something they saw recently.

Janus tends to hyperfocus on cases he works on in his internship sometimes, and when he’s allowed, he tells Remus all the gory details and grins when he revels in the fun, while also giving valuable insight that contributes to his defense.

Remus in turn sends him the paintings that don’t involve Janus’ face and stupid selfies he takes at random food carts around school that are rumored to give you instant food poisoning. 

He makes sure to send progress updates on the projects he really feels good about and sends him updates on Roman and his new trends, whether they be six second dance videos or random quotes he’s said to him of varying hilarity based on how stupid they are.

The longer he lives in the city, the more Remus knows his heart feels warmer. He’s been feeling it since the start of the semester, but he hasn’t said anything yet, at least not to Janus. Roman is free game, though:

“Roman, I swear to everything fuckable within a ten mile radius, he probably goes to the same college as me,” Remus groans, his feet propped up on the back of the couch as he lies upside down. “I get warmer every time I go to campus.”

“There’s a million colleges in New York, so he really might not be,” Roman says reasonably, doing his eyeliner in the hall mirror. “Besides, he’s pre-law, right? There’s no way.”

“You’re just being uppity because you fricking met your soulmate on campus,” He responds grumbling.

“You’re right, I am. My soulmate’s a genius and I am very lucky to have met him when I did,” His twin’s pride infects the room, and he throws one Roman’s unnecessary couch pillows at him. “If you make me screw up my eyeliner, I’m going to run you through with one of your stupid wall-katanas.”

“They aren’t stupid, and I’m never going to see him face to face at this rate, so you might as well,” he snipes back, his purely decorative wall-mounted katanas be damned.

Roman raises an eyebrow, as if his mocking will affect Remus at all, “I’ll be back in like three hours, then you can mope your heart out, okay?”

He gathers his things from the hall table as Remus yells at his retreating back, “I don’t mope, I’m not you!”

“No, you’re not, and that’s why you don’t have a hot date tonight!” he hears as the door shuts.

He wishes he kept the pillow to suffocate himself with.

***

When Roman knocks on Virgil’s door, he doesn’t expect the person who answers the door to be so familiar, and he’s sure the answering party doesn’t expect him either.

“I thought-Sorry, I thought my roommate’s soulmate was coming over,” Janus says, a flash of recognition in his eyes, completely stunned in a way Roman has never heard while listening in on his brother’s phone calls. 

“Yeah, no, I’m here for Virgil. Janus, right?” And at the immediately suspicious look goes, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you send my brother at least five selfies a week, and he agonizes over your beauty for ages after every single one, you have to know I would recognize you on sight.”

“....Roman?” he asks, like he doesn’t actually know what was going to leave his mouth when he said it.

“That would be me,” Roman just goes for the back of his neck, before wincing at the Remus-like gesture. “So, uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah, yes!” Janus opens the door fully so fast, Roman almost expects him to run himself over, “Do come in. Would you like anything while you wait? Water? Tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Janus hovers for a moment like he’s going to say something, but bites his lip instead, “Want to know how my brother is doing?”

He shifts elegantly, though his chains rattle, making the adjustment more obvious, “Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“A liar, you definitely want to know how he’s doing. Well, you’ll be happy to know he lives fifteen minutes away,” Roman grins, “And he’s home alone right now, pouting about wanting to see you, if you wanna go over.”

“It would be rude to leave you unattended in my home,” Janus replies, his voice strangled. “Arrangements can be made to get Virgil to hurry up.”

Leaving the room in a swift movement of leather and metal, Janus nearly vaults the couch in his haste. Roman can hear him yelling at Virgil to “Hurry up, you nasty, spider-pet keeping bitch,” and his soulmate’s yells to “Get out of my room, you tattooed skank!” Then an offended gasp, “How dare you?” and the snarling response, “You barge into my space and-”

“You hooked up with my soulmate’s brother-”

”Who is my soulmate, idiot!”

“Would you just-”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Janus leaves the room and, in Roman’s line of sight, straightens his shirt as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle. “Virgil will be out shortly, if you wouldn’t mind giving me the address.”

“You two are going to be related if you marry my brother, you know?” Roman grins as he puts the address into Janus’ phone.

He takes the phone back and rolls his eyes, “We were fostered by the same family. We really can’t get any closer, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We were adopted by the same person, Jan, why do you always conveniently leave that part out?” Virgil grumbles as he enters the room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and be safe.”

Janus sniffs turning up his nose, “I’m going to get violently murdered before I even make it there,”

“Don’t test me, I will put off this date,” he pushes Janus’ head forward so he can’t look up at them. “Be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Janus mumbles, fixing his hat and his chained belt, “Do I look okay?”

“My brother is a trash rat,” Roman responds, louder than he means to, “You will look like a model next to him and you will constantly get questioned as to why you’re in a five foot radius of him.”

“So, good?”

“Fantastic,” Roman confirms. “Now have fun.”

Janus double checks his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and then he books it in the direction of the twins’ apartment.

***

For the first time since he moved in, Remus feels himself getting warmer by the second. It’s not as though he’s moved from his spot going over every single thing that could currently be going wrong at Roman’s date, but somehow, his heart is pounding like he has.

“What do you see?” He asks it, vaguely aware it can’t actually respond. Either his soulmate just figured out where he lives, or there is something extremely important happening in the city.

Picking up his phone to check, it lights up with a text from Roman reading ‘Sending a pick-me-up your way,’ but he has no idea what it means.

After two minutes of constant heat, he searches for major events happening nearby. Nothing.

Five more minutes pass, and he thinks he might die young to a heart attack.

There’s a knock on the door.

His self preservation instincts must be completely nonexistent at this point because he yanks the door open with a knife in his hand and freezes. There, right in front of him, is Janus, who he thought he’d never see, and who was always too good for him, and yet, perfect for him in every way and, “I could have accidentally killed you with one of my many wall-hung weapons because you didn’t knock like Roman,” and that is the first thing he chooses to say to his soulmate.

“I wouldn’t have appreciated the trip to the hospital after I just sprinted over half a mile to see you,” he pants a little, “I know we didn’t talk about it, but Roman showed up at my door, and I knew you had to be nearby, and I just-”

Remus yanks him forward into his arms, and sighs in relief as the heat abruptly goes away, “Mr. I-think-everything-through needed to be impulsive, huh?”

“Yes,” Comes the fervent response as he clings to Remus’ body. “I missed you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to meet up. We didn’t even-”

“I know,” And Janus’ mouth brushes his cheek, just barely, because he’s not tall enough to reach, and Remus bends down, and kisses him soundly on the mouth, the feeling running through his body like a new kind of heat and comfort, and it feels like he’s done it a million times, even if it’s the first time.

Breaking apart, he notices they’re just standing in the doorway of his apartment. “Come inside, sweetheart,” He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, Janus bursting into laughter as he pushes him back. 

“Nope,” He grins fondly, and this is the first day of the rest of their lives, it hits Remus, “I think I’m going to cause problems on purpose.”

“Fair enough, honeybee,” He tugs at the yellow cuffs of Janus’ leather jacket, pressing a kiss to a tattoo at the edge of his hairline, “Want me to carry you? Roman did say he was sending a pick-me-up, and I can definitely pick you up.”

He’s giggling, Remus delights as he scoops him up, kicking the door shut behind them, “If you call me one more pet name, I will combust, and you will have no soulmate to be with, is that what you want?”

And he says what he wants to say, because Janus has never once cared about the shit that leaves his mouth, “Biscuit, I’ve waited so long to see you, even death couldn’t keep me away from holding you.”

Janus pushes into him and kisses him again, putting a hand in his hair, tugging slightly to get the angle he wants, “I wouldn’t want it to,” Then after another kiss, “Love you.”

Remus sighs into his mouth, his world aligning so he could be the orbit to Janus’ sun, the whole system correcting itself. “Yeah,” He holds him just a little bit tighter, “Love you, too.”

[n8thegr8]

Heroes Never Falter

“No, please don't leave me!" 

These words echoed in Izuku Midoriya's dorm room at approximately 2:56 AM. He sat up in his bed and stared into his dark room. His breathing was deep but fast. His heart felt like it was going to break. Was he having a heart attack? No, it can't be since his left arm wasn't numb. Although he has heard that different people show different signs of cardiac arrest.

"Ow," he said, holding his head in pain. His blood pressure must have been skyrocketing, he felt so tense. Every inch of his body was pumped full of adrenaline. He clutched his chest. 

"Okay, okay, just breathe. Just breathe." Izuku closed his eyes and imagined a leaf floating in front of him. To control his breathing, he must breathe so that the leaf stays in this imaginary box, it's helped him in the past.

But Izuku started to breathe faster and faster; it wasn't working. It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? His lungs started to spasm as he began hyperventilating, the leaf flying in the air, wildly out of control. 

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh God," Izuku whispered, his body shook. 

"Midoriya?" a voice suddenly rang out to Izuku's ears. 

The boy let out a muted scream as he was pulled back into reality.

"Midoriya, mon ami?" 

Aoyama? What was he doing awake at this hour?

"Midoriya, are you okay?" Yuga said, his voice slightly muffled from beyond Izuku's door.

No no no not now, Izuku thought. He didn't want to answer; he didn't want to deal with anyone right now. He can't let anybody see him like this. 

"Izuku, I'm coming in, okay?" The doorknob started to rattle. 

"No!" Izuku cried. Suddenly the rattling doorknob stopped. 

"Izuku? Are you alright?" said Yuga.

Izuku gulped. "Y-yeah, Yuga. I just had a nightmare."

There was silence at the other end of the door for a moment. "Mon Dieu! Do you want to talk about it?" Yuga exclaimed.

Izuku sighed a breath of relief, he didn't have to talk to him for any longer. "No, it's okay, Yuga. Thanks."

"Well, if you need anything, just tell me, okay?"

"Thanks, Yuga."

"You'll never amount to anything, you quirkless piece of trash."

Izuku's face went pale as snow. He started to tremble again. Did he really just hear that? How did he know? "Wh-what did you say?" Izuku stammered in disbelief.

"I said bonne nuit! It means 'good night,'" Yuga said. 

"Oh… yeah. Good night Yuga. See you in class tomorrow…" Izuku waited until he heard Yuga walk away until he sank back down in his bed. He felt as if a rock has been chained to his back and that a demon was sitting in his chest. His breathing once again became quick and shallow. His vision? Blurry as tears formed. Did I really hear that? Izuku thought, Did… did Yuga actually say that?

He felt himself become heavy as if he was sinking deeper into his bed, he felt that all of the memorabilia in his room was watching him. Judging him. He wept. He felt so lost. He felt so scared.

He reached to his bedside table, found his phone, and turned it on. The light blinding him for just a moment. This was a nightly occurrence for him. Every night he'd been feeling anxious and scared and had been having the worst nightmares. So he would turn on his phone and play a voice message from a few months ago. 

"Hey, Deku!" It was Ochaco's voice. "I just wanna say that I miss you so much, and I can't wait to see you when you get back from your training on I-Island. It's been weird without you around! Class isn't as cheery as it was when you're around. Even Bakugo's become more irritable than when you are here!" She laughed. "When you come back, let's go to the gardens, okay? I miss going there with you. Say hi to Melissa for me! I love you so much."

This was the only thing that can calm Izuku down. The voice of his girlfriend, Ochaco Uraraka. He opened his messages and saw the last text he received that night. 

<3Uravity<3: Good night babe! I'll see you in the morning. I love you <3

Izuku's breathing slowed down, and his heart rate mellowed. He was finally calm. At least, calm enough to try to go back to sleep. He lay back down and put his phone by his head. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. Izuku focused on his breathing, another suggestion from Hound Dog. He inhaled and exhaled. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. She's lying. Exhale. She's lying, she hates you. Inhale. Why would she ever love a worthless piece of trash like you? Exhale. Once she finds you out, it's over. It wasn't working. They'll all find out, and you'll be alone. Izuku pleaded it to stop. Just like you deserve. It was just a small voice in the back of his head, it wouldn't shut up. Why is this voice bothering him so much? He knew that none of what it's saying was true, but… was it? For the second time tonight, he started to cry. Small, weak, sobs escaped his throat. 

Izuku felt a great chill throughout his body. Which was peculiar since it was in the middle of May. He opened his eyes, and he couldn't believe what he saw: his room was encased in ice. Izuku sat up in his bed. He felt the cold pierce his skin, even though he was covered with a blanket. Even though the room was dark, he could see his reflection, and sitting there was not him. It was him, but it also wasn't. Staring back at him was a warped reflection of himself. Eyes? Bloodshot and sunken. Skin? Emaciated and wounded. Body shape? Anorexic.

"We are alone." It actually spoke. "We don't deserve anyone. We are quirkless. We are a thief. We are loveless. We are not a hero."

Deku closed his eyes and covered his ears. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. 

"And we need us."

Izuku's eyes shot open and observed that his room was back to normal. No more ice. Just his regular room. He was shivering. Not from being cold. However, he was shivering from fear. He lied back down and wept. 

"Does… anyone really like me?" he cried softly to himself. He went through his phone again and played Ochaco's voicemail once more. Darkness eventually overcame him, and he was whisked away to the dream world, where more terrors awaited him. 

The grandfather clock in the common area of the dorm rooms struck eight times, light shone through the windows in between the blinds, the smell of breakfast was in the air, it was apparent that Class 3-A was getting ready for class. Rikido Sato and Katsuki Bakugo were on breakfast duty this Monday morning, and they were cooking up a storm in the kitchen.

"God damn it! Those pancakes aren't nearly done, you dumbass!" screamed Katsuki, stirring the pancake batter with the burning ferocity of ten suns.

"Don't you go telling me how to cook, you phenomenal douchebag!" yelled Rikido, flipping pancakes on four pans while also cooking the bacon. 

"You see this egg?!" Katsuki screamed as he cracked an egg in his hand open. "This is gonna be your head when we're in hero training today!"

Rikido flipped a pancake on its uncooked side and violently pressed down on it with his spatula. "And this'll be you when I flatten you like a pancake, you maniac!"

"Guys, guys, calm down jeez!" whined a tired Ochaco Uraraka as she entered the kitchen with Momo Yayarouzo. The gravity girl's eyes were half-closed, and her hair was disheveled. She was not ready for the day ahead. The creation girl, however, was fully awake, her hair done to perfection, and she was ready to take on whatever the day was ready to throw at her. The pair took their seats at the table, Ochaco throwing her upper body onto the table in exhaustion, making a decently loud noise. "Ow," she groaned. 

"It is much too early for you two to be yelling," Momo stated, with her hand holding her forehead. "Can you two just keep your animosity towards each other bottled until hero training, please? I'm getting a headache."

Kachaan felt a surge of anger well through his body. "Well, maybe if you didn't pair me up with this actual idiot! You wouldn't be havin' a damn headache!"

"How does Kirishima do it?! Actually, how?!" Rikido screamed to the Heavens as he put more finished pancakes into the pancake pile.

"They aren't finished!"

"Bite me, asshole!"

Two plastic forks were sent flying through the air, barely missing Katsuki's and Rikido's faces, and stuck themselves into the wooden cabinets. The two turned to look at the table, and they were met with a very pissed off Ochaco Uraraka, arm outstretched, and a face that screamed, "Shut up." The two stared in horror at the girl for a moment, then looked at each other, sneered, and went back to cooking. Ochaco gave a small "humph" and sat back down, returning to her exhausted sprawl position on the table.

There was an awkward silence in the air. Until Katsuki spoke up. 

"Round Face, where's your boy toy? He should be back from training by now."

Ochaco got out of her tired position and sat up straight. "I don't actually know. He didn't even text me good morning today..." she said as she looked down solemnly.

Katsuki heard this disservice to his ears and snarled, "Absolutely disgusting." He started to stir the pancake batter even more violently now. 

Ochaco sighed and pushed herself up from her chair and stood. "I'm gonna go check on him."

"No!"

Everyone's gaze turned to Rikido as his arm was outstretched towards Ochaco. "S-send Bakugo instead! He knows Midoryia pretty well, right?!"

Everyone in the room looked at him like he was an alien from Mars. 

Ochaco blinked. "Um… but Sato… I don't thi-"

"Please!" exclaimed Rikido, tears flowing from his eyes and a knot in his throat. 

Ochaco's eyes widened in understanding and nodded. "Yeah, Bakugo, go check up on Deku. I'll take over kitchen duties."

"Hell no, you won't," said Katsuki, "Unless you want a shitty breakfa- hey!" Before he knew it, Katsuki was suspended precariously in the air. "Put me down, you Deku-lovin' bitch!"

Ochaco walked up to the floating boy, grabbed his leg, turned to face Rikido, and cheerfully said, "I'll be right back!" Ochaco dragged Katsuki through the air into the common room with the hotheaded boy cursing her with every name in the book. 

"God damned, Round Face," Katsuki mumbled as he stormed his way up the stairs, "It's her job to be his frickin'- forget it." Katsuki eventually found himself before the door of the one and only Izuku Midoriya. He took in a deep breath. "The things I do for this damn class." He pulled his arm back and slammed on the door. "Deku! Get your ass outta bed it's almost breakfast!" he exclaimed. 

No response.

"Deku, you're gonna be late for class if you don't get up!"

Again no response. Katsuki's blood pressure skyrocketed to inhuman levels. "Damn it, Deku! Open the-!"

The door flung open, and Izuku appeared where the door once was. 

"Jesus, finally. What took… you… Deku, you look like utter shit."

An apt description if there ever was one. Izuku looked entirely different than what he normally did. Instead of his bright green and cheery eyes were dark and reddish in tint. Heavy bags haunted under his eyes. His hair was even more disheveled than it usually is. But what struck Katsuki the most was Izuku's skin: it was pale white. 

"Hey, Kachaan," he said weakly.

Katsuki's eyes widened in shock. He's known this kid for years, much to his dismay, but nonetheless. He knows what Izuku Midoriya was all about. This person standing in front of him was all wrong.

"Deku… what the hell?" he said flabbergasted. 

Izuku bit his lip and directed his gaze to the ground, "I uh… I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Yeah, no shit…" Katsuki shook his head. "A-anyway, you gotta come downstairs, uh," he stammered. "Round Face is worried."

Suddenly life sprung forward to Izuku's appearance. "Oh my God, I totally forgot to text her good morning!" he cried, starting a muttering swarm. 

Katsuki stared at him in disbelief, shook his head, and started to walk back the way he came. "Absolutely disgusting."

Izuku snapped out of his muttering state and witnessed Katsuki walking down the hall. He started to run towards him. "Kachaan wait," said Izuku as he caught up to him. "I uh, need to ask you a question."

Katsuki sneered. "What is it? It better not be dumb."

Izuku looked sheepishly down towards the ground. "Um… do you think that the class is gonna… find out that I was quirkless?"

Katsuki stopped in his tracks and shot Izuku a look, screaming: "Are you serious?"

Izuku winced. "I..ImeanIguessthey' regonnafindouteventuallycuzofShigarakiandtheLeagueofVillainsbutIdo n'tknowKachaan I' vejustbeenreallyworriedyouknowhowquirklesspeopleareviewednowadaysImeanit'swrongit' sreallywrongIfelttheworstofitbackingrammarschoolandIguessI' mnotashamedofbeingquirklessbutIdon'tknow I' vebeenhavingthesenightmareslatelyaboutpeopleleavingmeand-"

"Zip it. They're not gonna care," Katsuki sighed, putting his hand on Izuku's shoulder. "Listen, Deku, I know it's a riot coming from me, but it doesn't matter. If the truth of One for All comes out to the class, who cares? They already like you enough as is. I don't know why, but they do. You being quirkless once won't matter to them. It doesn't matter to me anymore, so why should it matter to them?" He took his arm off of Izuku's shoulder and started to walk again. "That was a really dumb question, by the way."

Katsuki's words were as if a sword slashed at Izuku's soul. The opposite of what the words were meant to do to him, but par for the course for Katsuki. 

Anymore? Izuku thought.

All of those words, but that is what he focused on. He sighed, and he noticed that he could see his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, the hallway began to freeze with ice. It was crawling towards him as if it was alive. 

"Jesus, Deku, keep moving!"

Izuku jumped at the sudden voice of his classmate and looked behind towards the hallway. The ice was no longer there. "Oh! Right…" And thus he walked to the kitchen area to greet his classmates, eat breakfast, get a good morning kiss from Ochaco, and start his day.

"Deku, on your six!"

Uravity's voice pierced Deku's ears as he turned around and gasped as he saw Ground Zero hurtling towards him. "Die!" he yelled.

Deku sidestepped to his left, the heat of the ensued explosion just barely singed his costume. "Damn it!" Ground Zero yelled.

Okay, he's going to follow up with a- Gah!

A sickening pop was heard and felt by Deku. His left arm burning as it flailed around uselessly. He flew and crashed into a nearby building, leaving a crater in the wall. "Ow." he groaned. Deku could hear Sugar Man and Ground Zero arguing in the distance.

"He was mine, dumbass!"

"Why did I have to be on your team?!"

"God, you're so damn useless!"

Dumbass? 

Useless?

A chill ran up and down his body.

"Deku!" Uravity exclaimed, "Are you okay?!" She got on her knees and grabbed Deku's waist, activating her Zero Gravity.

Deku?

Deku came to his senses and realized that he was floating in mid-air, he sighed. "Thanks, Uravity."

"Oh, thank goodness."

She let the boy down and back on his feet, deactivating her quirk in the process. He faltered to stand up straight. He clutched his dislocated arm in pain.

"Deku, your arm, do you-?" she asked worryingly.

He sighed, "No, it's okay. I just gotta…" He closed his eyes and concentrated, suddenly his quirk, Black Whip, shot out of his back and wrapped itself around his shoulder and arm. With a sudden movement, the arm moved up, and a pop was heard yet again. He cried in pain but for just a brief period. He took in a sharp breath. "I'm gonna be okay." He gave her a weak smile. 

She looked at him doubtfully. "D...Izuku, I think you should take a break for today," she suggested. Deku didn't like what she meant when she called him by his first name. The only time she called him "Izuku" was when she was romantic, angry, or worried about him. 

She was definitely worried about him, and he hated it when she was. He looked her in the eyes and took a deep sigh. "No, no, I'm okay. I just didn't notice Sato behind me," he said, his gaze slowly lowering to the ground, "I should've, though." His fists clenched tightly.

"Izuku," she said, taking Deku's hand, "What did we talk about hypotheticals in battle?"

Deku sighed once again, and he directed his gaze towards his partner. "To stop dwelling on things that already happened before I get punched in the face?"

She gave him a bright smile. "Exactly, now come on. Let's crack some heads." 

Deku gave a smile back. "Alright," he said softly. 

Uravity leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. Deku's cheeks erupted in flames. It's been a year with her, and he's still not used to that. "Love ya," he said. 

Uravity gave him a wink and turned towards the battle. "We're all going to find out eventually, and you'll truly be alone."

Deku's entire body stopped as he heard this. His heart started to pound. "Wh-what?" he stuttered. 

Uravity turned around and faced him with a confused look. "I said I love you too… Hon, are you okay?" It happened again. He heard something different. Deku thought about Uravity's question for a moment. Was he okay? Was this a side effect of One for All? Was he having hallucinations? What was happening to him?

Deku swallowed a large lump in his throat. "Y-yeah. Let's finish this." He nodded to Uravity, and she, albeit hesitantly, nodded back. The pair ran out of the storefront and ran right back into the battle, ready to face their opponents.

She's right, you know. They will all find out that you're worthless.

Deku kept running.

She's also lying. She doesn't love you. Why would anyone love you?

Deku kept running.

Kachaan was right. You're worthless. You lied.

Deku started to slow down. His vision started to become blurry.

Everybody pretends to like you. They pity you. When they find out you were quirkless, they will all leave you.

His breath started to quicken. The sounds of the world were drowned out from the high pitched ringing in his ears.

You're a thief. One for All isn't your own. It will never be. All Might is ashamed of you.

He tripped, his face hitting the ground hard. He could barely make out somebody calling out his name.

You're worthless. You're quirkless. You're loveless. You're trash. You should die. You should die you should die you should die you should die you should die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die -

Deku screamed. 

"Izuku!" Uravity cried.

Sugar Man and Ground Zero stopped their arguing after hearing Deku's scream, and both turned to face the boy.

"What the fu-?!" Ground Zero's question was suddenly cut off when Deku suddenly sprinted off further into the fake city.

Uravity cried out Deku's name once again, but he couldn't hear her. He ran. Faster than he ever has. Deku found a small bunker, built right after the USJ attack as a precaution to keep students safe if the League of Villains ever came back. Deku entered the bunker, closed the door behind him, and barred the door with a steel pipe, twisting it like a pretzel to ensure no one can get in. Deku faced the door, and he started to walk backward, tears running down his face, and his eyes puffy and red. He found a corner and sat down, curling into a ball and closing his eyes. He sobbed loudly. He couldn't believe he just did that. Why did that happen? 

"Why… did I do that?" he whispered to himself.

"Because we are worthless."

A sheer cold ran through Izuku's body. He opened his eyes, and to his shock, the entire bunker was frozen in ice. He looked to his left and yet again in the ice's reflection was himself, a twisted dark version of himself. It was sitting in the same position.

Izuku shuddered. "What do you want with me?"

The reflection spoke. "For us to understand. We are worthless." Mirror Deku stood up, slowly and painfully. "Everything good in our life is a farce. We want us to understand this. We will never amount to anything."

Deku closed his eyes in horror. "Are you One for All?" He kept his eyes closed for a while until he opened them to see his dark reflection closer to the ice wall dividing them. 

"No… We are us, Izuku," the reflection droned. "Nobody loves us. Not even us. Why should we be loved? We are weak."

"Shut up!" Izuku cried, "I earned this! I earned On-"

The reflection slammed on the ice wall, shaking the entire bunker. "No! We do not deserve anything! We do not deserve her love. We do not deserve his praise. We do not deserve their friendship. We are a horrible person! We do not deserve to be a hero. We are quirkless. We are worthless. We are-!"

"Izuku?"

Ochaco's voice cut through the cold air like a flaming sword. "Izuku, can you hear me?"

"Do not answer her, Izuku. She is tricking us," the reflection said, "She is laughing at us, Izuku. She hates you."

"Izuku? Honey?" Ochaco said on the other side of the door, "If you can hear me, please say something."

"Don't do it."

Izuku closed his eyes and swallowed a big lump in his throat. "I… I can hear you, Ochaco."

"No! She is trying to embarrass us!" the reflection cried.

A muffled sigh is heard from the other side of the door. "Oh, thank God. Izuku, can you open the door for me? We can't help you if you don't open the door."

Izuku let out a small cry. "I-I can't. T-there's s-so m-much i-ice," he stammered, "There's ice e-everywhere."

"We will never let us leave this bunker."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Okay, Izuku, what are you doing right now?" asked Ochaco.

"I… I'm in the corner. I'm on the ground," Izuku answered weakly.

A deep breath was heard on the other side of the door. "Okay, Izuku? I need you to listen to me. We can't open the door, you barred it too tight. I know you're surrounded by ice, but I need you to be strong right now, can you do that for me?"

"Do not listen to her! She hates us! She hates us! She hates us!" the reflection ranted.

Izuku covered his ears and closed his eyes, trying to block out the reflections ramblings, he didn't want this. He didn't want to be what this reflection of himself thought he was. Izuku opened his eyes and put his hands on the icy cold floor. "O...okay. I think I can do that," he said wearily.

"No!" the reflection cried. Izuku ignored his dark self and slowly but steadily rose to his feet.

"I'm standing up," said Izuku.

"Okay, Izuku, can you walk?"

Izuku's breathing started to quicken and become more shallow. "I think... I think I can," he whispered, "Ochaco, there's so much ice."

"I know, baby, I know," Ochaco reassured, "Just take it one step at a time, okay?"

Izuku took in a deep breath and tried moving forward, but his legs wouldn't move. "I-I can't do it!"

"Give up."

"No! You can do this, Izuku. I believe in you," she said. Another moment of silence fell upon the pair. "Izuku, okay, remember that really old American Christmas special from the pre-quirk era that you love?"

"She is trying to humiliate us!"

"Yeah, I do."

"Remember that song that you used to sing with your mom from it?" asked Ochaco.

Izuku started to sob as he remembered him and his mom singing while watching it every Christmas morning. "I do," he cried softly.

"We're going to sing it to help you, okay?" said Ochaco, "We're going to get you out of this."

"No!"

"Okay," said Izuku.

"On three, okay? One… two… three…"

Izuku started to walk forward, incrementally. "Put one step in front of the other," the couple sang, "And you'll be walking across the floor." Izuku's steps slowly quickened in pace. The memories of Christmas' past flashed in front of him, the many years spent alone with his mother, some with his father, giving Ochaco the All Might charm, and finally the last Christmas he spent with her. Warmth flushed through him as he kept moving forward. The pair kept singing, and Izuku kept moving. He could see his reflection yelling at him, but he couldn't hear him. He found himself at the door, he made it. He did it. All he needed to do was open the door. He reached to grab the steel bar.

"No! We will not let us do this!" the reflection screamed. Before Izuku's eyes rose, a new giant wall of ice, separating him from the door.

"No!" Izuku yelled.

"Izuku?! What happened?!" Ochaco cried.

"I can't get to the door! It's blocked by ice!"

"We will stay here! They hate us! We are safe here!"

"Ochaco, I can't… I can't… I'm useless, I can't."

A third moment of silence fell.

"Izuku, yes, you can," Ochaco pleaded, "You can do anything."

"No…, no, I can't," Izuku sobbed, "I'm worthless."

"No, you aren't! You're a hero, Izuku!" she cried.

"We are worthless."

Izuku kept on sobbing, he felt so helpless.

"Deku, listen to me. Do you remember why I call you that?"

Izuku hesitated to answer. "Because you thought it was cute?"

"What a frivolous reason."

"No, Deku, I call you that because it sounds like the name of a hero. A hero whose entire personality yells, 'I can do it!'" she said, "Do you remember that?"

"Do not listen to her!"

"Yeah, I do…" he whispered.

"You are that hero, Deku. You can do anything. You can break this ice."

"Stop it!"

"You are the Deku who can do anything!" Ochaco cried.

Izuku faced the ice wall. His reflection staring right back at him. "We will doom us." 

"Shut up." Izuku cocked back his arm, balled his hand into a fist, and closed his eyes, and concentrated. Green lightning coursed through his body, and power within him swelled. He threw his fist forward, and it collided with the ice wall, putting a crack in it.

"They hate us!"

"Is that all you have to say?!" yelled Izuku as he threw another punch, damaging the wall even further. He had to admit he was shaking in his boots. He didn't know if he could do this, but he had to try.

"They will find out, and they will leave us!"

Izuku yelled as he punched the wall, yet again, pain from the impact coursed through his knuckles. His reflection stood in the ice wall. Even more emaciated than before, the skin even more dead, and his eyes even redder, a gruesome sight for Izuku.

"We will never leave us."

Izuku hesitated. "I know. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "But I don't care." He let out a cry and punched the ice wall, breaking it into a million pieces. When he opened his eyes, all of the ice was gone. As if it was never there in the first place. He walked to the door, looked back to the inside of the bunker, took a deep breath, and undid the bar. "I'm coming out, okay?"

Izuku would've lied if he said he wasn't immediately embarrassed when he walked out, and he saw all of his classmates look at him with concerned faces. A worried Ochaco throwing her arms around him as he emerged. Mr. Aizawa gave the order: Izuku must take the rest of the day off. He tried to suggest otherwise, but Mr. Aizawa quickly shot him down. Ochaco volunteered to walk him back to the dorms and to stay with him for the rest of the day.

The walk towards the dorms was a quiet one, not quiet born from awkwardness, but quiet born from worry. Every time Izuku spared a glance at her, he saw a different emotion paint her face. Worry. Fear. Sadness. Angst. Every time he saw a new emotion, another sword pierced his heart. He hated this. He hated making her worry like this. It's all his fault. If only he was stronger. 

Eventually, the pair arrived at Izuku's room.

"I'm gonna go change into some clothes from my room, okay?" Ochaco said, holding Izuku's hands together. "I promise I will be right back."

Izuku nodded weakly. "Okay." Ochaco smiled and gave him a small kiss on the forehead. She then walked out of the room. Izuku closed his eyes and took another deep breath. He got up, got dressed in more comfortable clothes, his "t-shirt" shirt, and shorts, and sat on his bed. He sat there, and he waited for Ochaco to come back. 

She's not coming back. 

That voice came back.

She'll never come back. She hates you. 

He held his head. "Not again. Not again, please."

"Hey, I'm back."

The thoughts disappeared as quickly as they showed up. There standing was Ochaco in her normal casual wear, a t-shirt, and shorts. She motioned him to scoot over and make room for her on the bed. He obliged, and she sat down. 

Ochaco sighed. "Izuku… we need to talk." 

This is it. She hates you. 

Izuku hung his head in shame. "I… I know."

"Is something bothering you? Something is. I can tell. Don't lie to me, okay?"

"Okay…" he whispered, "I've…. I've been having these nightmares and… hallucinations lately..." He brought his head back up to look at her in the eyes. He told her Everything. The ice. The reflection. What the reflection has been saying. His auditory hallucinations. Everything. It wasn't easy. He didn't tell her in a muttering mess. He told her in short bursts of information. As if there was a battle in his head every time he spoke. 

"He told me I was a horrible person. That… you don't love me and… everyone will find out and leave me."

Ochaco tilted her head in confusion. "Find out what, hon?"

Izuku froze. Oh, God. This is it. She was going to leave him. He can't back out. He has to tell her. It was going to come out eventually. His eyes started to blur as tears were forming. Ochaco saw the waterworks flooding and immediately pulled Izuku in a hug. 

"It's okay, you don't have to tell m-"

He held her tight. "No. No. I have to say it." He started to hyperventilate. "Ochaco I…" His throat started to swell.

"Just breathe, sweetie," Ochaco shushed, "It's okay."

It took every ounce of bravery in Izuku's soul to say what he said, but he did it. "Ochaco, I was born quirkless and… my quirk isn't mine." He broke. His vision was completely blurred by his tears. He sobbed on her shoulder, probably soaked her shirt in the process. This was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Training for a year with All Might? Child's play. Fighting terrifying villains? A daily routine. Confessing his true nature to the girl he loves? Like trying to push a boulder uphill. She knows. She knows. His brain was rushing through every possible outcome. Every outcome was her walking out the door. He braced for her response. But all he found was her grip becoming tighter.

"Oh, Izuku," she choked, "I'm so proud of you."

What? Izuku thought. He broke the hug ever so slightly to look at Ochaco's face, who was also sobbing.

"That must've been so hard for you to say, huh?" she sobbed. 

Izuku gave her a confused look. "You're… you're not mad at me?"

"Why would I?" she said, wiping away her own tears, "It doesn't change what I think of you." Her accent started to show. "You're still the amazin' Deku I love."

Izuku was so confused. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to yell at him, call him worthless, say she never loved him, and walk out the door to tell everyone else. 

"Ochaco…. I…. I don't know," he stammered, "I can't believe that. I-I don't…"

"You can't believe anybody because you keep thinking of the worst possible scenarios." She put her hand on his cheek, lifting her pinky, so she doesn't accidentally activate her quirk. "Izuku, if you can't believe anyone, please try to believe in what I am going to say right now," she said, "I have the deepest and most sincere love and admiration for you. I didn't know it then, but since day one, these feelings were there. That love and admiration have to come from somewhere, right? You had to do something to make me just… be over the moon for you, right? Izuku, what makes me love you is that you're you. I love every single bit of you. Your flaws. Your strengths. Everything. Even your muttering. It doesn't matter to me if you were quirkless. It doesn't change the fact that you're Deku. The hero who can do anything. You're the Deku who's gonna be the number one hero one day, and…. you're the Deku who I want to spend the rest of my life with. So please… please. If you can believe in anything. Believe that I believe in you."

"Ochaco…" At this point, Izuku's room was flooded with both of their tears. This was the hardest he's ever cried. Instead of coldness, warmth flowed through his blood, coursing through his body—the warmth of love. "I love you so much," he said as he hugged her tightly. 

"I love you too, Izuku," she wept and hugged him back just as tight. The two spent the rest of the day crying, hugging, and talking. When night fell, Izuku's face went beat red when he timidly asked Ochaco to spend the night with him.

"I-I d-don't wanna be alone t-tonight," he stammered. He saw Ochaco's face turn even redder than his.

"Y-yeah. Of course," she said. 

Eventually, Izuku and Ochaco fell asleep in the same bed, at first, it was awkward, and the two kept blushing and apologizing for the lack of space between them. However, they found themselves whisked away to the realm of dreams, holding each other close in the waking world. For the first time in weeks, Izuku Midoriya didn't have any nightmares. Because tonight, he believed and knew that he was loved, and nothing in the world could change that. 

[ddixons-angel]

Fated: Season 1

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: Here’s a new chapter! Hope you all enjoy~!

Chapter 6:

It feels as if hours had passed since Merle had left Gloria trapped in the cabinet. She’s been banging on the door constantly, hoping Glenn or Daryl are somewhere in the building and hear it. Gloria slumps down, now sitting with her knees pulled against her chest in the small space, she sighs. 

“Merle you asshole... I’m gonna break your arm the next time I see you... selfish prick...” Gloria curses under her breath. 

She attempts to push open the cabinet door but to her expectations, all she hears are the chains on the outside rattling. Gloria groans, frustrated and not knowing what to do. Suddenly, she hears voices from outside. She listens intently to hear the voices better, making sure they aren’t voices of strangers before calling out for help.

“Merle! Ya in here?! Merle!” 

Daryl.

“Gloria!”

Glenn!

Gloria starts to hit and bang on the cabinet door furiously, “In here! Hey! Daryl! Glenn! I’m in here!” 

She continues to rattle the chains, hitting the door until she hears the chains being taken off of the door. The doors of the cabinet open and Gloria shields her eyes from the brightness coming in from the windows. Once her vision adjusts to the light, she looks up and sees Glenn and Daryl looking down at her. 

“Glenn!” Gloria gets up with the help of her brother and she hugs him tightly.

“Oh thank god, you’re okay,” Glenn lets out a huge sigh of relief as he tightly hugs her back, his hand cradling her head. 

“Hey, where’s Merle?” Daryl asks Gloria as she lets go of Glenn. 

Gloria sighs, “I don’t know.”

“The hell ya mean ya don’ know?! The hell is he?!” Daryl pulls out something from his pocket, waving it around angrily as he speaks, “I find his damn hand out on the roof and now ya tellin’ me tha’ ya don’ know where he is?!” 

“Hey, will you just listen to me before going off?!” Gloria shouts back at Daryl.

“Alright, everyone just calm down.” Rick says, Gloria looks in his direction and finally realizes that he and T-Dog were in the room as well, “Gloria, why don’t you tell us what happened.”

“Well, we were waiting for you guys back on the roof, but the chains broke with all the weight of the walkers on the door, I had to try and to block them off so I threw a hacksaw to Merle-” she gets cut off by Daryl.

“Ya told him to cut off his own hand?!” Daryl shouts, angry.

“I told him to cut the damn chains! How the hell was I supposed to know that he wouldn’t listen and be stupid enough to cut off his own hand?!” Gloria shouts back in her own defense and takes a few breaths to calm down before telling the rest of the story, “when I saw what he did, I knew we couldn’t stay up there anymore, we didn’t know when you guys would come get us, and if you took too long, he would have bled out. So we tried to find anything to stop his bleeding, and eventually... did that.” 

Gloria gestures over to the stove with the iron steak weight that now had Merle’s brunt skin crusted on it. The four men look at the bloody scene in shock and turn back to Gloria. 

“You did that?” Rick questioned, his face shocked, “you cauterized his wound with a steak weight?”

Gloria shrugs, “I know it wasn’t the most sanitary, but it was the only thing we could find. So after I did that, I tried to look for more towels to wrap his wound. And then he pushed me and locked me up in this damn cabinet. I heard glass shattering right before he left so I’m guessing he went out the windows.”

Daryl goes over to the windows and nods, “Yeah... it’s shattered and you can still see some blood... fuck..”

Gloria looks at Daryl with sympathetic eyes and goes up to him, “I’m sorry, Daryl. Truly, I am. The least I can tell you is that your brother is still alive out there somewhere, missing a hand yeah, but still alive.”

Daryl scoffs at her last words and looks at her, “O’ course he is, nobody can kill Merle but Merle.”

“What do you say we keep looking for him out on the streets?” Gloria suggests. 

“Yeah, he should still be out there, I bet I can still track him.” Daryl says, readying his crossbow and heading to the door.

“Woah woah wait, look I feel for you man, I do, he’s blood, family, I get it. But you can’t expect me, all of us to go out there without any protection, at least let us go get those guns first, then we can start lookin’ for your brother.” T-Dog quickly suggests.

“Guns?” Gloria questions, looking to Glenn.

“When Rick was attacked by the herd, he had a bag full of guns with him, he left them there when I got him out of that mess and they should still be there.” Glenn explains.

“Fine, we’ll get yer damn guns, find Merle an’ get the hell outta here.” Daryl harshly agrees. 

The group devises a plan of how they quickly can retrieve the guns; Glenn, being the fastest, goes out with Daryl as his back up and grabs the bag while the other three cover another alleyway where Daryl and Glenn will meet them once they have the bag. Understanding the plan, the group heads out. Gloria, Rick, and T-Dog make it to their alleyway and wait for Glenn and Daryl while looking out for any walkers. 

“Help! Help!”

The three of them look at one another once they hear the cry for help and they rush over to the direction of the voice. They reach the alleyway Daryl and Glenn were supposed to be and find Daryl about to pounce on a teenager. Rick and T-Dog quickly pull him away from the scared boy. Gloria looks around, seeing the bag of guns on the ground but frowns when she doesn’t see any sign of Glenn.

“Where’s Glenn?” Gloria turns to Daryl.

“The kids friends jumped me and took him.” Daryl tells her, frustrated and angry.

Gloria looks at the teenager and seethes with anger, she readies herself to pounce on him when Rick holds her back, “Easy, we can’t make any more noise, there’s walkers all over the place, we have to keep quiet.”

Still glaring at the teenager, she shrugs Rick off of her and stays as composed as she can. Rick grabs the bag of guns as well as a sheriffs hat from off the ground and instructs Daryl and T-Dog to take the teenager with them. He proceeds to climb up the ladder of the building beside them to the roof and the others proceed to follow. They find an office room of some sort and Rick and Daryl start to interrogate the teenager who’s name turns out to be Miguel. 

“I ain’t telling you anything.” he tries to put up a strong front. 

This angers Daryl as he huffs and is about to beat him up but Gloria quickly intervenes, holding Daryl’s arm back from throwing a punch.

“Daryl, stop. Let me try.” Gloria lets go of his arm and pulls a chair up to sit right in front of Miguel, “Listen, I don’t know who you are and I honestly don’t care. What I do care about is my brother, and your people took him from me, and I just want to get him back. He’s the only family I have left, so can you help me get him back?” 

Miguel looks at her and then looks down, a look of guilt on his face as he nods, “alright, I’ll help you. I’ll take you to G.” 

“G?” Rick questions.

“Guillermo, he runs the place.” Miguel explains.

Gloria smiles softly at him and gets up from her seat, and looks at Daryl, “see? Sometimes violence isn’t the only way.” 

Daryl rolls his eyes, strapping his crossbow in place, “ya act like ya weren’ ready to pounce his ass in the alley.” 

Gloria chuckles and puts on her backpack, ready to head out to get Glenn when Rick stops her, “Gloria, I need you to stay here.”

“What?” Gloria furrows her brows, “Why? Aren’t we going to get Glenn?”

“We are, but it’s too dangerous to take the bag full of guns with us, and we can’t leave them here unattended. You’re our best choice, now can you do that for me?” Rick explains, looking at her with sincere eyes.

Gloria sighs and nods, “Fine... I’ll stay here. You better bring my brother back.” 

Rick nods to her as a silent promise then he heads out with Daryl and T-Dog holding onto Miguel. Gloria closes and locks the door to the office and sits down on the desk with the bag of guns. She waits patiently for the others to come back and soon she hears a knock on the door, then Rick’s voice telling her to open up. Quickly, Gloria goes to open the door expectantly but to her dismay and disappointment, she doesn’t see Glenn.

“What was the last thing I said when you guys left? Where the hell is Glenn?!” Gloria exclaims, annoyed and frustrated; how many times does she need to get separated from her brother.

“Assholes had him up on a roof, threatening to throw him down and kill him. They wan’ to exchange him with the kid and the bag o’ guns.” Daryl tells her.

“Is that even a question?” Gloria says, looking to Rick, “that’s my brother.”

Rick doesn’t respond verbally, instead he starts to load up his shotgun. T-Dog, Daryl, Miguel and Gloria all watch as he does so, wondering what his plan is.

“Guillermo gave us two options,” Rick starts, “come back with the guns and Miguel, or come back locked and loaded. I’m choosing the second. I’m not expecting to come out of this unscathed, hell I’m not even expecting to make it out alive, so if you want to leave, head back to the camp, be my guest the choice is yours, but I owe Glenn my life, I ain’t walking away from him.”

Hearing this, Gloria doesn’t hesitate and unzips the bag of guns on the table and takes out a shotgun herself, “count me in.” she cocks the gun.

“Do ya even know how to shoot that thing?” Daryl asks, staring at her doubtedly. 

“Nope,” she turns to look at him, “but how hard can it be? Aim and shoot, done.” 

Rick chuckles at her, “that’s not exactly how it works.”

T-Dog and Daryl start to load up their weapons and soon they make their way back to Guillermo’s headquarters, a warehouse. Once there, Rick cuts the ties off of Miguel and frees him.

“Here’s your boy, now give us ours.” Rick orders.

Guillermo turns his attention to one of his henchmen, “Chop up the boy and feed him to our dogs.”

Enraged at his words, Gloria is about to hold her gun up straight to Guillermo’s head when Daryl lowers his own and holds her back, “hey, calm down, let Rick handle this.” he whispers harshly into her ear.

Rick glances back at the two, making sure Daryl has Gloria’s situation handled, he turns attention back towards Guillermo, “you said come locked and loaded, we’re here.”

Everyone inside the warehouse raises their guns at Rick’s words. There is an intense staredown between Rick and Guillermo, only to be dissolved when an elderly woman calls out to someone named Felipe. She comes out to the middle of the crowd and notices Rick in his sheriff’s outfit.

“Oh no, please don’t take Felipe away, he’s a good boy.” the elderly woman pleads.

“I won’t take him away, I’m just here to take back one of ours.” Rick says softly to the woman.

The elderly woman’s brows furrow, “The Asian boy?” 

Rick nods and the elderly woman reaches out for his hand and leads him into the back. Gloria, Daryl and T-Dog look at one another, trying to figure out the situation but their guns still held up just in case. After a short while, Rick reappears from the back with Glenn and seemingly half the bag of guns they’d originally had. 

“Those weren’t bad people, they’d taken in people from an old folks home and were only trying to protect their own.” Rick explains as he leads the group out of the warehouse. 

“Did ya really need to give them half our guns?” Daryl asks, annoyed.

“They needed them just as much as we do.” Rick says simply.

Gloria hits Glenn on the arm as she walks along his side, “you alright, you dumbass?”

Glenn laughs at his sister’s words of ‘endearment’, “Yeah, I don’t think they were ever actually going to hurt me.”

The group make it back to the spot where the van was supposed to be, only to see that it had already been taken. 

“Merle, ‘t has to be him.” Daryl mutters and sighs.

“Well, now what do we do?” T-Dog exclaims, annoyed at how things were going so badly for them today.

“We better start heading back to camp, by the time we get back it’s gonna be dark.” Glenn points out. 

The group collectively lets out a sigh, knowing it’s going to be a long way back on foot. Without saying another word, the five of them start walking back to the quarry camp.

---

Next Chapter

Yep so Merle left her but now she’s back with her brother and Daryl! What did you guys think of this chapter?? What you think will happen next? Please let me know!!

I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!

[ayma-nidiot]

“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 32

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Chapter 32 - God-Shattering Star

“Oh, cry me a river, Rex!” Weevil glanced to the battle below; many of the Club members had already died. Joey, Mai, Yugi, Téa, Tristan, Atem, and Duke were the only fighters who hadn’t sustained any serious injuries against the massive Earthbound army. Even Phuckdis and William were riddled with gashes, yet refused to retreat with Dr. Balls. “So your allies still cling to life like a drowning man onto a rock. Cute. Not that it will do any of you any good!”

“Rex…” Mako crawled on the floor; luckily for him, Espa retreated from the battle before he got hurt at all. “Don’t listen to him! You’re… hah… You’re the only one who can… save us…”

“Mako, don’t…” It was just then that after recalling the fight with Nortius, Rex had an idea. “Wait a second, Amber.”

“Papa, what is it?”

“I want to try something out. Why don’t we try fusing, just like Mako did with Jinzo?”

“But we don’t even have Polymerization! Those who do either are incapacitated or otherwise occupied! And you can’t even fly… If you fell to your death just like Kaiba, and all because of a stupid and ill-timed experiment, I…”

“Argh, we’ll both die anyway if we do nothing!” Rex pumped his fists in the air. “Show a little bit more Raptor spirit, why don’t you?”

“Papa… Okay. I trust you.” So Amber spoke as she half-shifted, and Rex began a long freefall.

“You really are a blooming idiot, aren’t you?” Weevil would have laughed longer, but stopped when he saw Rex glow pink. “So you think you can- Huh?”

“What’s… What’s happening to my boy?” Ptera wondered as Spinos tended to her wounds.

“Don’t tell me…” Phuckdis began. “Rex is…”

Before Rex could fall very far, Amber had completely fused with him, and he grew angel’s wings that soon turned into Rabidragon’s wings. Even if only by a little bit, the gloomy weather began to dissipate, replaced by an enormous pink glow at the top of KaibaCorp Tower. 

“What is the meaning of this?” The shining presence of Rex - with his bow, fluffy white shirt, golden pants, and Rabidragon’s ears and tail - intimidated Weevil. “Just who do you think you are, that you can challenge me? Well, no matter! I’ll kill you right here, as I intended to do from the beginning! Take this!” 

“...” Rex didn’t say anything as he simply held his bow at his side, and grabbed the chain whip before it could hurt him.

“It’s… Impossible! Aaaah!” Weevil reeled backwards when Rex threw him. “How can a weak rabbit like you stand up to me? ”

“It’s because…” Phuckdis made his presence known. “Rex is the true God-Shattering Star.”

William bowed in reverence with his brother and the remaining members of the Club. “He is the light that will save us all.”

Espa could still see Weevil and Rex, even from his hospital room. “Is that you, Rex Raptor?”

Joey looked up at Rex’s true form with a hint of jealousy. “That’s more powerful than anything I could cook up with the Claw of Hermos. I suppose that runt isn’t as weak as I thought him to be.”

Rex finally opened his now-crimson eyes and began to speak in a distorted voice. “Weevil… No, Earthbound God Sanpedro. I will kill you, right here and now, and free my beloved Weevil Underwood from your clutches.”

“So now you want me to die? That’s rich! What a fool. Come on, boy, come try me!”

“Hey, let me help too!” When Joey rushed up to Rex, he could feel an invisible barrier push him backwards. 

“Joey, this is my fight alone. Why don’t you just take out the small fry and let a pro handle this?”

“Hahaha!” Despite the fact that there were still several hundred Earthbound soldiers left, Joey couldn’t help but laugh. “Even when he’s some almighty angel… god... thing, he’s still definitely that silly Rex Raptor. Well, my dude, consider my morale boosted! You heard the man, guys!”

“H-How dare you address the God-Shattering Star that way?” Phuckdis was clearly offended. 

“Aww, come on, lighten up! Or you can just, I don’t know, sit there and relax while us duelists take care of the bad guys.”

“Or I can just, you know, show you just how strong us shapeshifters are!” Upon hearing Joey’s words, Phuckdis felt his strength anew, as did his brother. “I cannot fly, but that doesn’t mean I cannot fight!”

“Headstrong and reckless like your ‘God-Shattering Star.’” Duke chuckled. “Well, then, you better do a good job proving how strong you are!”

“You’re a poet and didn’t even know it!” Tristan quipped.

“You see, Weevil?” Rex stared at the nearly-soulless shell of his boyfriend. “You picked the wrong side to fight for. You have no friends there.”

“‘Friends,’ huh…” Weevil stared absentmindedly at the fighting below, especially at Joey and Atem. The chain whip rattled in his hands as he shook in anger. “Must be sooooo nice to have them! It must feel soooooo nice to be able to get palsy-walsy with people who didn’t give a shit about you just four years ago!”

“Weeves?!”

“You… YOU FUCKERS WILL ALL PAY!” Weevil dove as fast as he could, with all the anger he could muster ready to fuel his strike upon Atem.

“You coward! Get back here!” Rex couldn’t dive anywhere near that quickly, but tried to keep up as fast as his unborn baby would allow him, holding onto her for dear life.

“Eh?” Joey noticed Weevil coming for him before anyone else did, and braced himself with the Red-Eyes Black Dragon Sword. “Atem, look out!”

“Amulet Dragon, protect us!”

Weevil had originally planned to strike everyone in one blow with the chain whip. But being the deceptive little shit he was, he decided on a different mode of attack - bypassing all of the monsters and encasing his two most hated enemies in spider webs instead. “Ha! Syke!”

“Ggh!” Already, Joey was up to his neck in spider webs - yet for some strange reason, his sword arm remained free, as did the sword itself. The webs would not give way, no matter how hard or often he slashed at them.

“W-Weevil…” Atem could hardly talk, as the spider webs gripped his throat tightly. “I… I thought we were friends!”

“Me? Friends with you?! What a joke! Do you honestly expect me to believe a word of bullshit coming out of your mouth after the suffering you’ve caused me? Do you honestly think that after all you’ve done, I’d consider you a friend?” Weevil cackled as Atem writhed in pain. “If anything, you’re lower than the dirt underneath my feet!”

All the commotion awakened Heka. “F-Father… No! Dear gods, what’s happening to my father?”

“Boy! How does it feel to know that your father is no longer the King of Games?”

“Leave… him alone!” Heka flung a flimsy arm, releasing a ball of light that Weevil easily blocked. 

“Hmm… Nah, I think I’ll pass on that. In fact, I’d rather kill him before your very eyes!” Weevil approached Atem, with the intent to decapitate him with the chain whip. That was, until Rex blocked him in the nick of time, drawing Weevil’s attention away from his two captives. “Humph. It’s you again.”

“Damn right!” Rex’s smile faded when not long after he blocked the attack, his bow began to crumble. “Uh… Uh-oh…”

“Hah! Some ‘God-Shattering Star’ you turned out to be! Looks to me like you’re the one who’s shattered!” 

“Crud… I kind of need a weapon!” Rex picked up a sword from one of his fallen allies, but it was so weak that Weevil shattered it with his bare hands, grabbing Rex by the throat right after. “Ngh!”

“Before I kill you right here and now, tell me something, Rex. Why did you defend these guys?”

“B-Because… They’re… my… cough… cough…”

“They accepted you so easily, just because you play by the rules… Why is friendship such an easy thing for you, yet I could never make one friend? Why do Joey and Atem and literally everyone else in this fucking city love you and think I’M the worst duelist there ever was?”

“Don’t… Don’t I count, Weeves?” More than the iron grip of Weevil’s right hands, Weevil’s words hurt Rex. “And your own daughter? Have… cough… Have you already forgotten what we’ve all been through? We’re… willing to… forgive you… Just… Ugh!”

“Not another word out of you! The Earthbound Gods are the only friends I need now! Not you weaklings!” Ignoring the twinge of pain in his heart, Weevil lightly ran the chain whip over Rex’s left arm, barely enough to draw blood. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Weevil was so far gone into his own madness that Joey was certain he wouldn’t be able to hear him now. “Psst… Rex.”

“J-Joey?” Rex turned his head around, just enough to see Joey.

“You said… cough… that you needed a weapon, right?” Joey held up his sword arm. “Ya’ think this will be good enough?”

“That’s…!” Flashbacks of his Orichalcos duel flooded Rex’s mind. That’s the sword that sent my soul to the Great Leviathan! But if there’s no other choice, then…

“It’s now or never! Think fast!” Joey threw the Red-Eyes Black Dragon Sword at Rex, hoping to the gods he’d catch it and put it to good use.

“If that sword can’t cut the spider webs, then what makes you think that Rex will somehow magically put it to good use?”

Rex felt the sword land in his right hand, and had a clever idea. “By doing… this. ”

“G-Gaaaaah!” Weevil howled in pain when Rex did the unthinkable - completely cutting off his right arms and thereby freeing Atem and Joey from their bonds. He stared at Rex wide-eyes. “You would dare hurt me? Aren’t you scared of losing the love of your life?”

“Yes, I am.” Rex pointed the sword at Weevil’s face. “But the thing I’m even more scared of? Seeing Weevil Underwood beat himself up and become a destructive monster where a man once was.”

“Ugh, you were always so talkative!” Weevil flew higher and dove at Rex like a peregrine falcon. Rex took to the air as well and parried this attack with the sword, but not without some recoil. “Just one of the many things I hate about you!”

“Hah!” Rex repelled Weevil with the sword, enough to put a slight dent in the chain whip. “Your psychological tricks aren’t going to work on me now, Weevil!” 

“But maybe a variety of attacks can!” Weevil shot spider webs from his left hands that stuck to Rex’s butt-length hair and part of his shirt.

“Tch…” Rex didn’t like the sensation of sticky things in his hair, but grinned and bore it for now. “Am I supposed to be scared by the fact that you’re still part-spider?”

Weevil smirked as he barraged Rex with the chain whip. “Oh, I still see the fear in your eyes, Rex Raptor. A fear that you will lose the father of that child you’re carrying.”

Weevil’s words reminded Rex of his more painful contractions that got ever closer - yet being the bold man and duelist he was, he paid them little heed.

“I’ll give you credit for one thing,” Weevil spoke while he beat his wings faster, deadlocked in battle, trying to crush Rex with the chain whip. “You’re quite the warrior. And you’ve changed since your Orichalcos duel with Joey. It appears that you’re not going to let something like mere words rile you up.”

“But I can tell my words are riling you up…” Rex whispered closed to Weevil’s ear, catching him off-guard, before stabbing him in the shoulder with the sword. 

“Ngh…” Finally in pain, Weevil could feel his strength dwindling.

“Weeves…” Rex stared at his boyfriend - and stabbed him in the left thigh - in sorrow. “You can’t honestly mean that you want this… any of this! Don’t you remember seeing your daughter for the first time on the ultrasound? A-And how I told you all those years ago that I want nobody but you? How fast our hearts were beating when we confessed our love?”

“You… dino brain! Ack!” Weevil could no longer repel Rex’s attack and fell a few feet downwards. “I thought I told you that you can’t sweet talk your way into killing an Earthbound God!”

“You called me ‘dino brain’ again…” Tears of joy pooled in Rex’s eyes. “I know you still love me… Once the Rex Raptor has his sights on you, you can’t get rid of him.”

“Actually, I can ,” spoke a voice that was clearly not Weevil’s.

“Is… Is that you, Watda?” Weevil’s real voice finally came out.

“It appears to me that you’re going to be useless now, Uru… So it looks like I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

“No… No!” Weevil thrashed about in the air, confusing Rex. “Leave Rex and Amber alone!”

“Weeves, what’s going on?” Rex couldn’t hear Watda’s voice.

“Goodbye, you damned useless rabbit…”

Weevil couldn’t control the ball of dark energy coming out from his right hands. “Wait… Watda, stop!”

“Ah!” He wasn’t fully confident that he could block this evidently stronger attack, but Rex enveloped himself in his dragon’s wings. 

And Rex wouldn’t have to block the attack. For before Watda’s attack could hit him, Weevil managed to separate from Watda, taking the full brunt of the attack last minute.

“W-Weeves!” The strength in Rex’s eyes now gone, he watched in horror as his boyfriend froze in the air before beginning a rapid descent into Domino City’s concrete. “Oh my gods… No… You’re going to come back, just like you did last time… right?”

“Even an Earthbound God and the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon can’t survive a 1000-meter fall. You saw it yourself when Cusillu, Aslla Piscu, and Kaiba all died.”

“Shut… up…”

“Now what are you going to do, since your beloved Weevil Underwood lies dead?” Watda laughed as his shadows grew fiercer. “You’re nothing without him, you weak-ass monster. Nothing!”

“That’s… That’s not… Oh!” Before Rex could aim his sword at Watda, he suddenly felt amniotic fluid trickle down his legs. He shook so badly that he lost grip of the sword as it plummeted after Weevil.

“You’re in labour, hmm? Looks to me like you have two choices: one, continue to fight me and risk losing your baby; or two, going back to ground level to give birth. But with that second option, there might be a sliiiiight chance I’ll destroy the world. Either way, you lose! Hahahahaha!”

No, he won’t, spoke Amber’s voice.

“Ngh… Amber, you’re still there?”

I’ve been with you the whole time, Papa. You’ve got to finish this fast!

“But how do you expect me to do that? Especially since… your Daddy is…”

There is one way. Now that Daddy has been separated from Watda… Papa, I’ll give you all of my strength. Use it to finally banish this mongrel to hell, where he belongs! Amber de-fused from Rex. In fully shifted form, she engulfed Watda, leaving only the Earthbound God’s chest exposed. In the process, lights sprung from the ground as the bow regenerated in Rex’s hands.

“Ggh! Let go of me, you wench!” Watda struggled to no avail.

Before Rex could process what was going on, he coruscated like the northern lights, and he stretched out his new angel’s wings. His hair grew past his legs, and brown locks encircled his arms.

“Oh my…” With the Earthbound army now vanquished, Phuckdis could truly behold his people’s chief god.

“That’s my boy!” Ptera cheered. “Give that bastard what for!”

“Hehe!” Rex gave his mom a thumbs up. “One kick-ass arrow, coming right up!”

“What are you doing?” Watda could feel his time at an end.

“Watda!” Rex continued to growl as he pulled his bowstring back, and his body and weapon grew ever brighter. “Go back to the shadows! Hyaaaaaaaah!”

“It’s…” Watda could say little more as the glowing arrow impaled a giant hole in his chest. “It’s done… I’m… done… Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgh!”

“Finally, something we can agree on.” Rex’s descent back to Earth started slowly, but upon reaching six feet above ground, he reverted forms and fell into Spinos’ arms.

“God-Shattering Star!” Phuckdis and the remaining Club members ran up to Rex.

“Is… Is that what I’m called? Heh, sounds pretty cool…” Rex would have rested if he didn’t wonder about Amber. “Wait a second, where’s Amber? Where is my daughter?”

“Rex!” Mokuba pointed to an approaching Joey, who carried a heavily mutilated Amber in his arms.

“Amber!” Rex got up from his prone position to hold Amber, whom Joey had gently lowered to the ground. “No! I… I thought we got him! I thought we defeated Watda together!”

“W-We did… But at a cost… What did you think I meant when I said ‘I’ll give you all of my strength?’”

“Amber…?” Rex couldn’t even hold Amber’s right hand anymore, as it began to fade into nothingness. “What’s happening? Please… This isn’t happening!”

“My… My granddaughter…” Ptera cried as Spinos and Tricera consoled her. Not a single eye was dry as Rex’s friends and allies watched the scene unfold. Even Espa and a newly-healed Mako could see what was going on.

“But… But we only got to duel once!” Joey got down and cried with Rex. “And you haven’t even dueled Espa yet! I thought you were going to win back his Serpent Night Dragon!”

“Joey… My friend…” Amber reached out her left hand to Joey. “I… I just wished I had… acknowledged you as such… earlier…”

“Amber! No, please don’t die!” Pretty much every body part Rex tried to grab at faded away, except for Amber’s head, shoulders, and left hand. 

“Die? No, I’m just about to be born…” Amber placed what was left of her left hand on Rex’s baby bump. “I can’t wait to see you again and forge our bonds anew.”

“Amber…?” Rex cried as Amber chuckled one last time before her future self was no more. “AMBER! NO! Oh… my gods… Sniff…”

“My love!” Heka, who had just fully healed, ran to Rex. He had only seen future Amber for a brief spell before she died. “Oh, no… My heart…”

“Heka, I’m so sorry…” Rex hugged his daughter’s boyfriend. “Not only for your mother’s death, but also for Amber’s…”

“Forget about me! You just lost your daughter!” Heka cried into Rex’s shoulder as Atem consoled him too.

“Amber… I… Aaaaargh!” Rex suddenly doubled over as the remainder of his amniotic fluid gushed out all at once.

“His water has already broken… Rex is going into labour!” Mokuba announced. “Someone call an ambulance!”

“It’s for real this time, guys!” Joey got up and dialed the campus emergency number. After that, he knelt down again, trying to calm Rex down in any way he could. “Rex, hang in there. We’re going to get you help!”

[mercycjones]

Moving In

INVOLVED: Mercedes Jones, Christopher Jones, Samuel Evans  LOCATION: University of Miami; Miami, Florida TIME FRAME: - NOTES: Samuel tries to pursue Mercedes on move-in day, again. 

Samuel handed down the last box from the back of his powder blue Ford 1976 pickup truck before jumping down from the tailgate, landing beside his best friend. “I don’t know why you didn’t bring that shit when you moved in over a month ago.” He said, struggling to get the tailgate to close. He pulled up on it for a few minutes before turning to his preoccupied friend. “You mind!” he fussed.  “You know this thing takes two people to get it back in place.” 

Montray stood idly by gazing lovingly at every woman his eye could follow. The campus was bursting at the seams with returning upperclassmen.  “I could have but then I couldn’t have you chauffeuring me around town.” He said, mockingly blowing a fake kiss at Samuel. “This is going to be one hell of a year.  Bro did you see Janet?” Montray looked over at his friend and sucked his teeth. Setting the box down the shoulder in stand at the ready beside Samuel.  “This truck is trash man.”

Samuel chuckled, “the pleasure was mine. After all this little trip got me your sister’s number.” He said easily, not bothering to look at his friend. Every other minute Samuel glanced toward the entrance to the house expectantly. “Yeah, I saw her. Touched her too. And I have plans to touch her again tonight.” Sam’s jaw clenched, “Fuck you. Don’t talk about my  baby. On the count of three, 1, 2, 3,” He rattled off,  putting all his muscle into lifting the gate. 

Montray‘s head jerked toward Samuel. “Man, nix that shit.  My sister is off limits. You hear me?” he said, but followed Samuel’s line of sight, shaking his head at his friend's stares towards the dorm. “What are you looking for Evans?” He asked face sporting a shit eating smirk. “Man you are a greedy motherfucker.  You know that’s why Mercedes ain’t fucking with you…” The laugh came out loud echoing the square.  “I forgot how sensitive you are about this piece of shit.” He said, adding his weight to Samuel’s, finally getting the truck’s gate to slam close. 

“I know bitch.  A man gotta eat.” Samuel said, licking his chops. He sucked his teeth dismissing Montray’s assessment. “Mercedes who?” He asked dismissively, with another quick look towards the dorm entrance. “Keep talking shit. I’m going to remember that the next time your ass needs a ride.”

Climbing out of the large black Escalade, Mercedes pulled her backpack onto her shoulders closing the car door thereafter. She allowed her brother to take the lead, opening the trunk of the truck and grabbing her large suitcase and duffle bag out of it. She placed one bag over the other before she pulled her book bag down to retrieve her dorm room key. “Aren’t you glad I packed light this time?” she joked with the taller boy. 

Christopher looked at Mercedes, an eyebrow raised as he turned his eyes back to the other three storage bins she had in the trunk. “Yeah” he said sarcastically  “you have saved me so much work” he said as he pulled the bins out of the trunk and stacked them up on the sidewalk. 

“I hardly doubt this could be classified as light” Caleb said as he grabbed Christopher’s duffle bag from inside of the family car. He looked to the parking spots nearby, seeing his wife tucked safely inside. “This process has gotten old, quickly” he said in a husky voice. “It would be much easier if the both of you let your mother and I get you two an apartment here” he said exasperatedly. 

Mercedes scrunched her nose at her brother, and even offered their father a chuckle. “I am getting better with packing” she noted as she looked at the welcoming packet they gave everyone year after year. “My room is on the third floor, 304” she told her brother with a smile. “Dad” she said giving him a knowing look “we are fine” she said speaking for her and Christopher as she often did. “It adds to the college experience” she said offering the older man a smile before she tucked her packet away and added her room key to her chain. “Next time, I’ll pack even lighter so that Chris and I can travel alone, and you and Mom won’t have to come all this way” she told him. 

Montray continued to laugh, slipping forward as the gate slammed shut. “You’re full of it. Mercedes WHO?” He mocked in a high pitched voice, righting himself, he brushed dirt from his chest.  “I can’t believe you are still on her. Evans, Evans, Evans… Has it ever occurred to you that the woman doesn’t care for white dudes?  That girl is a full grown cornbread feed sister. She is trying to date a Malik, a Jermoine, dare I say it?  A Montray.  I love you like a brother but dude.  She shot you down repeatedly last year.  She just ain’t into your type.” He said reaching down to pick up the box. “It’s time for you to stand aside and let another dude shoot his shot. Besides I have told you time and time again. A white man can’t handle that kind of ASS.” He said, body trembling with the thought of it. 

The thought had actually occurred to Samuel, maybe he wasn’t her cup of tea.  Nevertheless he didn't admit defeat, not today.  Which was evident by how presently, Montray was tap dancing on a nerve that he didn’t know was so sensitive.  He chucked his friend off, grabbing two heavy duffle bags from the pavement.  “I’m every woman’s type” he corrected moving towards the dorms. “Beside you assume too much..” Samuel paused letting a black SUV pull in front of the building, then continued up the walk.  Call it a sick sense of just dumb luck.  Back turned the faint smell of familiar perfume drew his eyes back over his shoulder. He squinted for a second, an indescribable feeling in the pit of his stomach.  “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” He moved quickly to the side dropping Montray’s bags to the pavement.  “I’ll be right back.”  He brushed his hand over his shirt and pants, and adjusted his hat.  He strolled calmly back towards the entrance. Taking the time to nod casually toward the odd person as he went. Aligning with her brother, he turned back pedaling as some random girl reminded him to call her. Hands over his heart, “I got you.” He said, bumping into Christopher almost falling over.  

Christopher looked up and nodded his head “yeah dad, we are cool” he cosigned as he looked to his little sister. “Next time, we will get it done ourselves” he breathed huskily as he hoisted the bin up. 

Caleb gave the younger girl a displeased look before he nodded his head, grabbing a bin he hoisted it up and moved to rest it to the side, helping essentially. “I’ll be right back” he told the two as he moved towards his wife. 

Mercedes chuckled at Caleb and she watched the men work holding onto the handle of the luggage bag. “Okay” she said to their father as he walked off. 

Christopher nodded his head at Caleb, he looked to see the one Samuel Evans, bumping into his large frame. “Evans” he breathed before he looked at his sister knowingly. “It’s okay” he told the man kindly as he moved around him, towards the stack. 

Mercedes looked at Samuel as he all but fell into her brother, the pair swapped glances as he turned the man’s helpful hand down. She smirked to herself knowingly before she turned her back to him, “I’m going to go up Chris” she called back over her shoulder as she moved towards the entrance with her duffle and suitcase. 

“What the…” Montray sputtered as Sam dropped his bags and rushed off.  Moving to stand guard over his things he saw what, or rather who had grabbed the man’s attention. 

Shaking his hand reached for his bag sliding the strap over his shoulder. “Damn, a new fool.”  Struggling now with his things Montray headed towards the elevators. 

Samuel spun, righting himself missing the totes by only a heartbeat, “excuse me.” He rushed out before smiling broadly at the siblings.  He hadn’t managed to say another word before Mercedes put her back to him and scurried off. He grinned, watching her retreat for a second. Chuckling, he yelled out, “Thank you Ms. Jones.”  Pointing for approval at a tote, “Hey man. Nice to see you again” he said conversationally, to Christopher.  “Let me give you a hand.” He shoulder the tote and used his long legs to catch Mercedes.

Christopher looked at the man “yeah” he said with a slight head gesture at the apology. “Uh yeah” he said, in reply “good to see you to” he man of few words tossed out. Christopher wasn’t blind or dumb, every time Samuel gave his sister that look he knew where his eyes most likely landed. And he didn’t really like it that much. He swore on the life of his nonexistent children that he’d always protect his sister from any man that gave her that look again. As he pressed the issue he watched him, a small growl leaving his lips. He looked back at his parents before he picked up a bin lifting it and moving behind the two. 

Mercedes hummed happily as she moved inside the massive building. Once inside she breezed past some other students, making her way towards the elevator. She adjusted the backpack on her back and she stopped in front of the metal doors, pressing the up button. Looking down the hall, she saw Samuel again and seemingly looked past him on purpose before she waved at another familiar face.

Motherfuck… Mercedes was playing his game better than him.  Samuel thought, moving into the lobby, trying to catch the woman. Honestly, he knew she was in the building but had no clue where her room was.  Though, holding her things for ransom was an intriguing idea. He mused, steadily gaining ground on the woman.  He saw her wave and smile almost betrayed him. But game peeps game and he glanced back over his shoulder to see some random girl, waving in Mercedes direction. 

Gordon’s huge form worked like a wall as he moved through the denison.  And with Josh in toe, together, they damn near created their own ecosystem. Even on his job, Gordon spotted the fair haired quarterback, immediately.  Pointing  towards Samuel, he raised an eyebrow at the tote the man carried up the hall. “That’s Montray’s?”’ 

Samuel shook “No! It’s Mercedes.  Josh, go find Tray and help him with his shit.  I left him over by the drink machines.”  He said, throwing his head to the right as he continued to move forward, passing by the men.  Turning he backpedaled for a second. Gordon, that’s Chris see if he could use help with some more of Mercedes’ stuff.” He ordered, nodding at Mercedes' brother. 

 Gordon and Josh nodded compliance and moved off to respective targets.  Gordon jogged over to Christopher. Have a vague notion of who the man was because the bin he carried as identical to the one Samuel had. “Samuel said you might need a hand?” 

Samuel made it to the elevator and sat the tote down on the pavement.  “Woman you see me.” He said, standing to straighten his shirt. “You could have at least said hello before giving me the cold shoulder.”   

Christopher trotted behind both Samuel and Mercedes, damn Sam made carrying this heavy ass shit look easy. Why did his sister have a habit of bringing all of her best and newest outfits to school each year he didn’t know. Seeing, whatever his name was, George? Or something. He nodded “yeah, it’s two more of these out there” he huffed finally sitting the bin down in front of himself and catching his breath. “I’ll wait for you, I know the room number,” he told the guy. 

Mercedes watched Theresa as she scurried to the destination she was pursuing her heart thumping in her chest just at the thought. When Samuel spoke she finally looked at him “hello Samuel Evans” she said without much care in her voice. “I see you convinced Christopher to let you help” she mused looking at her things. The elevator doors opened and she moved inside of them, placing her finger on the open button to actually give him time to get on. “Though I’m sure you have something else, or someone rather, you could be tending to…” she said finally looking into his green eyes, brow raised. 

“Alright. I’ll be right back.” Gordon nodded moving out the doors. He bent to lifting the two stacked bins testing the weight.  Deciding one trip was better than two he lifted the bins with a small grunt and walked them steadily back to where the man was waiting. 

Samuel’s mouth dropped in mock shocked delight… “So, you do remember me.  And my government name too. Progress.” He told the woman rubbing his hand together.  “Convinced?” He questioned, careful to keep his eyes off the giggling girls that exited the elevator, as he took up the bin again,  “It looks like you brought everything you owned back with you.  The man needed some assistance. Wait  -I know you weren’t going to make that man carry all this stuff up by himself? Ms. Jones... “ He playfully scolded, moving into the elevator.  Her hazel eyes met his and there it was again.  That stirring of something that made him keep pursuing  this girl, despite her numerous rejections. He cleared his throat and leaned back against the elevator wall. Her words were clear. No doubt he could be anywhere else, but in fact he was exactly where he wanted to be, in this moment.  He smiled broadly and licked his lips, shaking his head,  no, to her very loaded question.  

Christopher nodded his head, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he took a look around.

“UM’s most prized possession? Oh how I wish I could forget…” she rebuttal. “Christopher is a strong young man, he could’ve handled it” she told him pressing the 3rd floor button and looking off. His head shake caused her to roll her eyes “I have no doubt there’s a few more giggles who’d love to have you, carry, their things up” she said, her voice very assured in her statement. She hummed, eyeing him in their close proximity before the doors slid open and she walked off the metal box pulling her luggage with her. She moved for 304 and used the key to turn the lock opening it up. “You can sit it by the door, au revior” she spoke fluently, dismissing him. 

Gordon moved on towards the elevator, scared to stop once he started moving.  “What floor is it chief?” He yelled back at Christopher, moving past the man. 

“Jokes…. I like that in a woman. It keeps me guessing.”  Samuel told the short woman, making a serious statement in the most unserious tone. “Wow…” Samuel shook his head mournfully, hefting the tote, feeling the weight of it for the first time. “That’s messed up,” He grinned then looked over at the girl.  “You sound jealous.” Chuckling, “Yeah, but I don’t want to carry their things” He said, following her out of the elevator “I want to carry yours.” She pointed to a spot near the closet, then tried to dismiss him in what he assumed was french. “This is nice.” Samuel set the box down, rubbing the sweat away from his palms on his jeans. He moved deeper into the dorm room, he fingered the single desk, then took a second to pier out the window, before turning back to face Mercedes.  “So, you have this whole room to yourself? Lucky you.” He said, wondering how much this room cost. 

Christopher watched the boy bypass him with two bins, his brows stitched. “3” he said as he picked his back up and followed behind the guy. “That isn’t heavy?” He asked curiously. 

“Jealous?” Mercedes asked the word leaving her tongue, seeping like poison of out a fresh wound. “No, I believe it is you who’s the comedian” she said. As Samuel made himself at home, looking around her new spot. “There’s no luck involved, I have to pay to stay in this singular room” she reminded as she rolled the luggage to the spot she desired and pulled her backpack off her back. She sat the bag down on the empty desk and moved to turn on a light. She fell quiet as she examined the door room for herself taking it in, ignoring Samuel’s still obvious presences. 

Gordon grunted, “Shoot yeah. What’s she got in these things.” He quickly sat the bins down by the elevator.  Breathing hard.  “How many more does she have?”

Samuel folded his arms in front of himself, “What's funny?  That man sees a woman he likes and wants to get to know her.  I thought that was some tale as old as time shit.” He rebuttal raising an eyebrow,  “Okay, then, I guess blessed is proper wording.” He dropped his arms,  “Hmm” he looked down at his feet, then back up to the woman with a small smile on his face.  “I thought we had at least moved past idle ignore Mercedes. Damn, I texted you at least once a week the whole break.” 

Christopher chuckled a bit “clothes, shoes” he said with a headshake. “Sorry” he told him as he put his bin down and pressed the up button. “This is it” he told him with a smile, “thanks for the help” he added as the doors open. 

“It’s only funny if you are one of many women, I guess” Mercedes said back to him with a shrug. She sighed loudly, licking her lips and folding her arms as she looked at him. “And I saw each one,” she said, licking her lips again and she looked away from him. “I don’t know what you want, I am sure whatever it is I can’t give it to you. So why don’t you just stop?” She breathed. “You’ve never seen me with anyone anyway, I am just here for a medical degree” she emphasized. 

Samuel stopped and turned green, eyes shining.  “I want to get to know you. That’s easy to see.” He finished, nodding as he  moved on, grabbing the handle of the door. “A question, why do you think I chase women?” He asked, stopping once more, he raised an eyebrow.    

“Because you can” Mercedes said simply “why do any man do what they do?” She said bitterly. She swallowed down her bitterness and backed away from the boy a little. She didn’t know why he played this game of cat and mouse, he only wanted one thing. They both knew that. And she wasn’t buying what he was trying to sell so diligently. 

Samuel frowned, licking his lips as the mood in the room changed in an instant. He pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway.  Adding more space between him and the woman. He held the door open, his large body taking up most of the space in the doorway, gazing at the woman, feeling again some weird ass need to make her comfortable. “I don’t chase women.” He said in a low calm tone. “I like women and most of the time they like me back.” He stood up tall, “I’m not trying to chase you Mercedes.  I am trying…” He looked from side to side checking the hall for anyone that might over hear the dopey shit he was about to say.  “You’re a good girl.” he said looking back to the woman. “I’m trying to court you.” He rubbed his chin, “I better go.” 

Mercedes watched him out of the corner of her eyes and she shifted on her feet. Watching him leave, but of course he stopped to speak once more to her. Expressing his feelings directly and she looked up slowly, she almost believed him but he couldn’t be telling the truth. It wouldn’t make sense, she was nothing and no one special. 

[lucarioisinthevoid]

For the Henry in Hell- maybe N. Balloon Boy, Rockstar Foxy, Scraptrap, and maybe Dave (since Henry wants to talk more with him)?

(Okay, I’m way too fucking tired to make these, but dear god, it’s five AM and I WILL fucking get the Henry in Hell stuff done NOT READ THIS OVER I’LL REGRET THIS AFTER HAVING HAD A NAP. BUT FOR NOW? KICK MY ASS AND CALL ME A CANDY CANE. I’M NOT WASTING MORE TIME. I’LL EDIT IT TOMORROW. ENJOY.)

Does he want to talk to Dave? It’s difficult to say. He wants answers. And Dave seems like the weakest link in the chain. There seemed to be certain beings that influenced how the nights played out. For now, he knew of three for a fact. Most obvious, DeeDee. Henry was considering that perhaps she was connceted to the old man- there was a keen smell of lake water whenever she appeared. At first he hadn’t noticed, but now he couldn’t miss it, no matter how badly his anger flared up when he saw her suddenly jump out from beneath the table, or some sort of black hole of vile darkness, where all the annoying thing festered and cross-bred to create worse and worse- He took a deep breath. Stay calm. … yes, the lake. The lake brought him here, it must have some sort of importance. Being capable of changing the rule of the night… that seemed to be within the lakes domain. Then there was the suit. Of course the suit was special. Remaining behind after the night, during the downtime. Sometimes Helpy and Rockstar Freddy appeared to give advice and little prices ‘for the trouble’, but they never remained for long. Also, both of them were bears. Like the suit. He hadn’t yet found a way to make the suit react to any sort of input from his side, thus testing him and the changes he caused to his environment was almost impossible. Even calling him Goldie drew hardly any reaction from him. The most influence he had seen the suit exert was about the TV program, but his continuous presence still was beyond notable. Now, last was… … Dave. Of course. If there was one person capable of manipulating the souls without even knowing how or that he was even doing it in the first place, it was his purple companion. Sometimes he had wondered if there was such a concept as deliberate chaos manipulation. Another thing he might would have figured out if he would have not been brutally cut off from all his studies. But, no time being bitter. All he need was to figure out the variables at his disposal, then he would be able to manipulate them to his own benefit. There was an exit. This was a trap, a way to contain him, a place consuming energy like any other. And there was a way to shut it down. He merely needed to figure it out. For that, however, he needed to start getting some data. Try out different stimulus. That was what he was ready to do today. He had plenty of positive contact with Dave so far, nothing more seemed to be coming out of it. Despite everything, Dave STILL insisted this here was a great place- and Henry did not care for it. There was nothing he could bribe out of his former friend anymore, he clearly was not being cooperative- so he would show him another side, at the risk of ruining any claim to their friendship forever. … not that there were any traces left after Dave had betrayed him. Valuing his object of obsession over him, spitting in the face of everything Henry had ever done for him. Nightmare Balloon Boy slipped into the room- the night had started. “AND WHAT WILL YOU DO TODAY, TOOTHPICK?” “You will be surprised. I am sure of that…” “YOU THINK YOU CAN SURPRISE ME?” “It is not you I plan to surprise, so it hardly matters.” The animatronic looked at him suspicious. “YOU SEEM VERY CONVINCED ABOUT THIS, SHORTSNACK.” “I am.” That was where Henry stopped the conversation. Saving his energy for the one he was meaning to hurt. He glanced at the Nightmare Balloon Boy, feeling barely anything for him. This creature would not attack- it was too weak to go against the rules, so it would be leering at him while he had the camera up, grinding his teeth. Rockstar Foxy he had actually never met before- and he’d try to avoid him tonight too. For some reason he always had the eerie feeling that this bird would never like him- no matter what he tried. He loved birds a lot. That was why birds tended to stay as far away from him as possible. The plastic nightmare snarked something- But Henry wasn’t listening. He didn’t need him anymore. He didn’t have to talk to him anymore, even if he liked it, even if it was entertaining. Henry’s focus was on one thing only. Dave. Namely, how to rip him apart. Slowly his fingers tapped on the table, as he shortly took down the camera to flash the animatronic in his room, before pulling it back up, looking at the little springtrapped head moving along. … why would the one he shouldn’t have killed give Dave so much ability to manipulate the world around him? To a point that he was even allowed to join him in the office without attacking? Probably because he wanted to see them fight. And frankly- Henry wanted to fight him too. He was tired. And angry. He wanted to face the stupid child and-

Talk to him.

There was no spite for him specifically, in some way he could admire this child and the world he created. The animatronics, all filled with at least some level of personality, and somehow convincing two creatures from beyond to aid him. Yes, there was a lot of raw potential here. Perhaps it could use some guidance. … at least he could TRY. Either he would get out, he would get to teach a high potential being, or- worst case- everything would stay the same. Dear god, this place was BORING him. Boring him like constant nails on chalkboard, boring him like itching teeth and a vile smell. Nothing was truly happening- and it was driving him crazy. Even worse so that Dave claimed this place was great, while still acting as though he was Henry’s best friend. There was something so intensely infuriating about it. It didn’t FEEL like Dave was free himself, but he thought if anyone could help him get out- it would be him. Yet he denied everything- The person who kept him here… All of a sudden a terrible idea grew inside of Henry’s mind. What- What if it was the Orange Guy? At least his long lost soul, biding its time until he could come and- That would explain why Dave was filled with so much life and personality. He WOULD know him. And the guy was extremely talented at convincing those around him to aid his wants. … maybe the child form he had taken on had to do with trauma? Dave himself seemed to have at least a second soul that got stuck back from before his mother died, it would not be too unlikely- not to mention that souls were inherently ageless. Perhaps it had been an act of deception, trying to throw Henry off the trail. Yet- that would leave the question… if the soul was here with him, then what was keeping the Orange Guy alive? He shuddered and tried not to think about it. There had to be something, SOMETHING powering him. Something… No matter what, it would be upsetting to hear his friend being insulted. And his glance on the camera confirmed that it was about to be done. A choice. He had to commit, with his very soul. And he would. The vents rattled, Henry refreshed the ventilation and put down the screen, flashing the Nightmare, before looking up at the vent. Almost instantly, Dave’s eyes shined a pale light out of the darkness. His grin glowed out from under the mask, just to gently shift into innocent confusion. “Henry. Aren’t ‘cha gonna let me in?” Coldly the Pink Man looked at his former friend. “No.” Dave’s grin widened for a moment, thinking it was a little game. “Aw, c’mon! What if I say please? Please lemme in? Pretty please!” “I do not think I will.” It was then that Davetrap caught on that something was going on. His expression shifted again, fully this time around. Worry, confusion and- annoyance. Of course, always the annoyance about defiance, Dave was one and the same as him on this topic. However, Henry at least always had the authority of logic- Dave had nothing, nothing but his unstable emotions and violence to justify his wants and get his way. “… why? What’s the problem, Henry?” “I am done with you.” The word came over Henry’s lips utterly naturally. He meant it. Even as Dave recoiled. The atmosphere in the establishment instantly changed, as well as Dave’s entire expression. It was glowing still, as bright and if not brighter… and plenty of people might misunderstand it as him still having fun, still amused, however Henry knew him better than he knew himself. He knew that was nothing but rage. “What did you say there, friend?” “I told you I am done with you. William, you have done nothing so far but to disappoint me.” There was an art to it- To give just enough of a pause to let the words HURT, but not enough to let a counterargument form- to let any resistance develop. “Frankly, I have given you many chances. Too many changes. Failure after failure was all you brought me however. I put all my effort into you- effort that I could have put into ANYONE else, into a damn PET and it would have served me better.” “You-“ “No. No, William, you do not get to talk. I have kept quiet for too long. Giving you mercy, care, hoping and praying for you to turn into something better- and now look at you. Who do you think you ARE?! Using my generosity? Abusing my patience?! You were useless! You never aided me when it counted, you never LEARNED, you were SELFISH, like an ANIMAL, you were IGNORANT, you were an OBSTACLE- All my WORK, all my LOVE for you, our BOND- It never existed outside of my head, did it?!” “What- Henry, I-“ “WHAT. What do you THINK you can SAY here?! WHAT EXCUSE DO YOU HAVE, I AM DYING TO KNOW! DYING, QUITE LITERALLY, BECAUSE OF YOUR DISLOYALTY, YOU SACRIFICED ME. YOU SACRIFICED ME, AND EVERYTHING WE HAVE WORKED FOR. YOU HAVE NO DIGNITY. YOU HAVE NOTHING YOU CARE ABOUT. YOU ARE A SHAM! A SHELL OF A PERSON! A HEARTLESS MONSTER! AND NOT EVEN ONE OF THOSE THAT ARE OF WORTH, OF VALUE, OF USE! Anything that you provided me with was something I could have reached by myself. All you have done was to hinder me.” Infuriated the guy in the vents hissed. “What the fuck do you think you’re sayin’?! I’VE BEEN-“ Mockingly Henry grinned up at him. “What? What have you been doing? When have you ever been useful? Protected me? Face it, William, I pitied you and that was my mistake. I should have known that there was a reason everyone discarded you before. Once you will be gone, nobody will cry for you- nobody will miss you. The Orange Guy- to him you are merely entertainment. You are a fucking TOY at best- and more so an UNLOVEABLE, REPLACABLE TOOL.” Finish it. One last time. Slowly he stood up, stepping towards the vent. “William. Look at me. I want you to look at me, and I want you to know… … everything would have been better if you never had existed.” With that he closed the vents- both the front and the side one, just in time as the entire room was shaking, flickering, as something hysterical was making its way through it- Both sides of Dave being blocked out, as Henry fell back into his seat, raising his monitor, fixing the ventilation just in time. The night was not long after that. When he returned to the office, the suit was positioned in a way that it was looking at Henry as he entered. … somehow looking disappointed. Accusing. But Henry had no interest in that. Instead his attention was drawn to the board. All animatronics were glowing. The board was RED. Good. It was time.

[whumpqin]

The Rules

Whew, this one kind of kicked my butt when I was trying to write it, but here it is! It’s currently 7AM but I’m still posting this. Hope yall are ready for some more pain :3c

Takes place after Welcome Home

Taglist! @imagination1reality0 @faewhump

Content Warnings: Pet whump, starvation and dehydration as a means of control, dehumanization, collars, muzzles, noncon touching, some parts straight up torture used as punishment, creepy / intimate whumpers, usage of knives, brief blink and you’ll miss it emetophobia warning, licking up stuff off of the ground (?), kind of monster whump I guess, and probably some other things that I forgot to tag! Just lemme know if I need to edit.

They had decided to let him rot in their basement for the day. Alone and in the dark.

When Elisha finally woke on the stone floor, muzzled and hands bound behind his back to make him immobile, he wasn’t sure whether to be thankful for the peace and quiet or be afraid of the loneliness that would inevitably set in.  He waited, minutes turning into hours, for them to come down and do whatever they were going to do to him, but they never came.

For once, he had actually felt lucky that he was a Cambion. Darkness had never been a favorite of his, but his inhuman eyes were able to just barely pierce through the unseen veil so that he could at least catch flickers of the prison that they had put him in.

Unfortunately, there was absolutely nothing to look at. Besides the chains that bound him to the wall farthest from the exit, from escape, it was bare stone and wooden pillars that held the house up. Or at least, he assumed they were living in a house. He couldn’t be sure. 

He had tested how long the chains were by pacing - the only thing he could do at the given moment - and found that it wasn’t long at all. At the halfway point of the room it stopped, pulling taut and cutting off his circulation. But Elisha still paced, to feel something other than the metal lying across his skin, the strip of leather they put around his neck. He tried not to think about the collar.

And no matter how hard he tried to think about what was going on to distract himself, he still couldn’t understand why they were doing this to him. He dreaded finding out.

Elisha did, however, try. He figured this was some horrific game that they hadn’t let him in on. But Ari, the one who had drugged him, had called him a pet, talked to him like he was some sort of stupid dog, and he found himself trying to escape the fear that rattled in his skull again.

If they plan on making me their lap dog they’re going to have one hell of a fight on their hands, his instincts hissed in his ear over and over, aggressive at even the slightest provocation. Elisha always shook his head to try and get rid of those thoughts, but this one whispered over and over. He kept having to remind himself that fighting was going to get him killed by these people.

He continued to pace, continued to think. Every once in a while he stretched, extending his hands that were tied behind his back in an effort to soothe the ache that had carefully worked its way into his joints because of the strange position they were in. But no matter how hard he tried to wonder, tried to make sense of everything, he never came any closer to an answer that would satisfy him, would give him a reason why they picked him of all people.

Maybe there wasn’t an answer.

Elisha forced himself to sit, feeling the weakness in his limbs. They hadn’t given him any food or water, or anything comfortable, really. Nothing.

His shoulders slumped as he curled his tail into his own hands. There really was nothing to do but wait.

After what felt like hours, the sound of a creaking door opening alerted him. His head lifted from its lowered position to see small bits of light that peeked through the opening. Footsteps echoed down into the small room, and he soon saw two figures step down. Elisha was finally able to stare at both of the faces of his kidnappers.

Ari regarded him with a playful amusement, definitely looking down on him in a condescending way. Jer, on the other hand, seemed neutral and not nearly as interested in this as his partner seemed. He held a metal pipe that was as long as one of his legs, and Elisha felt a twisted dread in his stomach.

Ari reached up and flicked a light on. Elisha squinted as he was blinded yet again.

“Hello, pet,” they said with a bright smile. As they shifted, he saw that they were holding something behind their back. “Did you have a good nap?”

He wanted to say are you kidding me? On instinct, but his muzzle prevented any such movement.

Ari didn’t seem to notice, nor care, that he couldn’t give them an answer. “I bet you’re wondering what’s really going on, aren’t you?” They accented their words with a quick chuckle, as they reached a hand over to Jer, who placed the pipe in their hands. “Come here and kneel, and I might tell you.”

The dread curling and twisting in Elisha’s stomach dropped suddenly like a rock. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he saw Ari tap the ground in front of them. They had made the words sound so innocent, but he could tell that something sinister lied behind those eyes. He could see it in both of them.

His instincts told him both fight and flight. He wanted to get free and attack and tear them to pieces so that he could get away from here. But the bindings around his hands bit down more so than they had been, grimly reminding him of how trapped he was. Elisha took in a shaky breath as he stood up and took careful steps forward.

It felt horrible, to walk to your own demise.

The chain pulled taut, just before the place where Ari had told him to go. He tried to pull, to break it somehow, but it was too strong for him. Elisha looked to them with pleading, tearful eyes as they tapped the ground again.

There was no sympathy to be offered. “Are you not going to listen to me? Tsk, shame. And to think we could have been friends.” Ari looked to Jer with a incredulous expression. “Whatever, guess I’ll have to punish you for this, too. Kneel where you are.”

This was ruined from the start. Ari had no intentions of him even being able to obey. And now he had to just sit here and take whatever “punishment” they were going to deal out?

Everything was screaming for him to run. Elisha’s skin crawled as his instincts chastised him for kneeling, limbs twitching with a horrible panic that he just couldn’t shake. He can’t run. He couldn’t run, especially so with the air of fear that coursed through his veins so intensely that he wasn’t able to do anything but stare at the pipe as it was raised into the air.

When it came down, all he saw was stars.

Pain blossomed across his face as Elisha collapsed to the ground. Immediate regret of not doing anything racked his body much like the pain, and a low whine left his lungs through his nose. He tried to curl inwards, to protect himself somewhat, as another blow struck across his ribs. Even the thin layer of clothing that he somehow still had wasn’t enough to soften the spike of pain that echoed inside, as he felt something crack from the third blow.

Then it stopped. Elisha sat still for a moment, eyes squeezed shut in fear of what might happen, waiting for blows that never came.

It was too easy. He peeked an eye open, looking up to his captors as they both watched him carefully.

“He takes pain pretty well,” Jer commented. Then, with a small smile - which is the only expression Elisha’s seen from him thus far - he looked to Ari. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Oh, that’s great for us.” They looked back down to their target, a chilling grin on their face. “Hold still pet, there’s still more to come. Remember when you didn’t stay quiet in the car for me?” Elisha let out a muffled whimper, arms struggling from the need to defend himself as he squirmed on the ground.

Ari quickly raised the pipe and swung, catching him in the shoulder this time. It continued another two blows, hitting him in a different area each time. Elisha let out a low groan behind the muzzle, feeling aches and pains all over his body as they stood to admire their work.

There was the sound of someone whistling, and he looked up to see Ari’s smile. That damned smile.

“Oh, Jeremiah look at that. God, I wish I had a camera right now… these are the kind of moments you don’t want to forget,” they murmured, all too loud for Elisha to hear. They were talking about him like he wasn’t even there.

“Weren’t you the one who said phones were a ploy by the government to arrest ‘honest working people’?” Jer- or Jeremiah - said, raising his fingers in air quotes.

“I want a camera, not a shitty wiretap. There’s a difference.” They huffed a forceful breath, returning their gaze to Elisha, who lay motionless on the ground. He was afraid to move, lest he cause himself to hurt everywhere. He was already getting a headache. “Anyway, go ahead and take off the muzzle. I’ll go get some water.” Elisha perked up at the idea of water, swallowing as they felt the dryness in their own throat, and Ari seemed to notice, too. “Yeah? You want some water? Be a good boy for my friend here, and we’ll see about that, hm?”

Their tone was so condescending it hurt, but it could also be the aches from the impact sites of the pipe. Ari laughed as they went upstairs, high pitched and sweet and entirely not what Elisha would imagine an evil monster to make as a sound. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes and dripped to the ground as he watched Jeremiah get to his knees and lean down.

Elisha’s breath hitched as his rough fingers found the buckles on his face and began to undo them. Jeremiah thumbed over a point of impact, making him whine in pain and squirm at the discomfort.

“Stay still,” he said, voice low and commanding. Elisha nodded, fearful of what might happen should he not obey.

The muzzle was slowly drawn away off of his face, careful of the short horns that rested on his head, and laid to the side. Elisha watched it for a moment before returning his eyes to Jeremiah as he prodded the injured skin.

“Pl-please…” he begged. Elisha couldn’t reach Ari, they were too much a monster all on their own, but he figured he might as well try with Jeremiah. “Please help me… I just- I just want to go home, please…”

Jeremiah watched him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, he ran his thumb over Elisha’s cheek, making him flinch from the pain. “You are home, pet.”

The hopelessness washed over him like a tidal wave, and Elisha couldn’t stop a few pained sobs from escaping him. He was trapped, like a helpless animal, with these people who wanted to do nothing good with him. He was alone.

Elisha heard Ari coming back down the steps, and Jeremiah drew away from him to set the muzzle somewhere else. They caught him before he turned away, handing the pipe over.

“I think I figured out which name we should pick,” he murmured as he took the pipe. Elisha felt another pang of fear rattle around in his chest.

“Oh? Which one?”

“Caleb. I think it fits the best.” The muted passion in Jeremiah’s voice made the ever-growing pit in his stomach grow larger.

Elisha saw Ari put a hand on their chin in thought, a glass of clear liquid in the other. Water. He felt the dryness in his throat worsen at the idea of being so close to drinking something.

“Hm, alright. I did give you the choice.” They suddenly looked at him with such an intensity it made him flinch back. “Then it’s settled! Pet, your new name is Caleb!”

“No, please,” he begged, before he could really stop himself. “Please, my, my name isn’t Caleb, it’s- ack!”

He was interrupted by his own cry of pain as Ari stamped over to him and grabbed a fistful of his hair. The smile they wore held a sadistic tinge to it, and it was entirely too close to be well meaning.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you? You don’t get a choice in this.” They let go of his hair and let him fall back to the ground. Ari loomed over them, triumphant, as Elisha kept quiet, mostly out of fear. “We can do whatever the hell we want with you. Because we own you, got it?”

Fearful of what would happen if he did anything else, Elisha nodded against his own best judgement.

“Good, now you’re getting it. But not quick enough. Guess I’ll have to take your sip for you, hm?” Ari dramatically lifted the glass, taking a large gulp of water, sighing in relief. “Alright, now get up on your knees, Caleb. Maybe you can earn this water another way, hm?”

Elisha hated that name. He hated that Ari was essentially bribing him with the thought of water to get him to do whatever they wanted. He hated most of all that it worked.

With several whimpers and whines, he struggled to pick himself up off of the ground and sit on his knees again. Ari set the glass of water far out of reach, where he could still see it.

“You’ll learn to like it here, but there are rules you have to follow,” Jeremiah said. For a brief moment he wondered if he had gone through something similar with Ari, but he couldn’t be sure. The sinister glint in his eye told Elisha otherwise.

“Since this is your first time, we decided to maybe play a fun little game with you.” Ari drew something from their pocket, clicked something on it and a knife flipped out of it. “You say your rules right, and you’ll just get a little cut to remember it by. If not, Jeremiah here hits you with that pipe again.”

Elisha knew he wasn’t going to like this game. But, he didn’t want to get hit by that pipe again for going against what they wanted. He swallowed as he watched their expressions, horrifically neutral, and nodded.

“Oh-okay. I can, um… I can do that,” he murmured.

The two exchanged a look, a thousand words in the slightest twitch of expression that Elisha couldn’t read them all. The thought of not being able to know was disconcerting, especially when he wasn’t sure if it meant pain or not.

Jeremiah sat back on his heels as he looked down to Elisha. “Alright them. One. Your Masters should always be addressed as Master. Repeat it.”

Confident that he got the gist of it, he nodded. “Always, um, call you… M-Ma-” a tear slipped down his cheek as he tried to get the word out, and Jeremiah raised the pipe, “Ma-Master! Please, I said it, please don’t!”

“Wrong. You need to say it exactly, no ‘ums’ or stuttering.” Mercilessly he swung the pipe again, catching Elisha on the opposite arm. He cried out, following up with sobs of pain as he felt the ache settle under his skin. “Say it again.”

“Please… I, I don’t know, I can’t remember what you said…” He felt his chest clench as the pipe was raised again, fear coursing through his veins with every heartbeat that thudded in his ears. “Wait, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I can say it, ju-just say it again and I can repeat it, please, please don’t!”

The metal caught him across the side of the face this time, dazing him long enough that he nearly toppled to the ground. Elisha gritted his teeth in a groan as he curled inwards on an instinct to protect his body. Then he remembered Ari’s command, how they wanted him to stay on his knees. After a brief, merciful moment to collect himself, he lifted his face back up to Jeremiah.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ari lean against the side of the wall, that evil glimmer in their eyes again. With a sickening twist of his stomach, which he couldn’t tell was from hunger or fear, he realized that they were enjoying this.

Only a real devil could enjoy something like this, he wryly thought.

“Say it. Your Masters should always be addressed as Master.” Jeremiah’s expression was cold. Calculative. He was watching for a mistake to happen so that he could punish without mercy.

“My…” Elisha paused as he nearly said it again, fearful of the pipe that he held so delicately in his hands. “Masters, should… always be, ah-addressed as Master!” His voice raised as Jeremiah’s gaze narrowed, his nervous nature getting the best of him as he sped through the rest of the words.

“Not good enough. It has to be perfect.” This time it landed on the other side of his ribs, and though it glanced off of him he still felt the brief pain. Elisha cried out mostly in fear, keeling over as other aches surged in the wake of the blow. “Your Masters should always be addressed as Master.”

He took a few deep breaths, trying to remember breathing exercises he saw on the internet once. “My… Masters…” In. “should always be…” Out. “addressed as Master.”

“Good boy.” Jeremiah smiled at him. It didn’t reach his eyes. He glanced over to Ari, who moved behind Elisha.

“Very good boy,” Ari muttered, feeling his arms. “This should be a good spot.”

Something stung against his skin, and Elisha gasped and hissed in pain as a knife dug into his forearm. He forgot this part was happening, forgot that Ari mentioned being cut as a reward. Elisha squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Ari pull away.

“Two. Never question your Masters.”

At least this was easy enough. “Never… question my Masters…” Elisha’s head turned to catch a brief sight of Ari’s pale skin drawing close again.

He knew he must’ve done something good, because he felt the bite of the knife dig into his forearm again. It drew away just as quick, and he felt Ari pat him on the head.

“Your teeth look pretty when you’re in pain. I bet you didn’t know that, did you?” Ari laughed, close enough that Elisha could feel their breath hit the back of his neck, and he couldn’t help the shudder that crawled up his spine.

“Three. Do what you are told, regardless of the consequences.” He felt Ari draw away again, just slightly.

“Do… wh-what I’m told, regardless… of the… consequences.” Elisha swallowed thickly, closing their eyes. This time, he knew he messed up, especially when Jeremiah sighed in disappointment.

He heard him shift and move, and he peeked an eye open just as the metal swung and hit him in the stomach. Elisha wheezed as the air was knocked out of him, falling down to the ground as he gasped for air. He struggled to breathe through his breaking sobs of pain, resting his head on the ground for just a moment.

Getting back up was crucial in this moment, but his head hurt and moving about was like setting himself on fire and he felt like he was going to throw up from the nausea. Elisha needed to get up, he knew that, but everything hurt in ways that he never had before that he just curled up where he lay. The pipe prodded him, mocking him, and he gasped as his ribs shifted in ways they definitely weren’t supposed to.

“Get up, Caleb. Or I’m going to hit you again.” The pipe dragged across the floor, making an awful dragging sound that made Elisha cringe.

There was a pitiful whimper that sneaked out as a replacement for words that would ask for more time to recover from the hits. He just felt so weak, and trying to lift himself back up was a feat on its own. The next blow from the pipe went unprotected, and he cried out and sobbed as something else shifted in the wrong direction.

“Mm… this is already getting boring,” Ari muttered, prodding Elisha’s tail with a foot before it swept away and curled around his form. “Why don’t we trade, and cut him up until he gets it right?”

“You’re the one who suggested the pipe, Aridai. Just shut up for a minute.” Again he was prodded with the pipe, eliciting a whimper of pain from the gasping body. “Get up, Caleb.”

Without really thinking, Elisha shook his head. An admittance of defeat, to somehow say that he couldn’t do what they wanted.

He wasn’t cut out for this. He never was.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Fingers painfully tangled into his hair again, lifting him up to his knees. Aridai’s hands swept over his horns, but without any real curls to them there was no grasping them. Not yet. “Y’know, if we let these grow out, they’d make good handles or something.”

“Besides the point. Caleb,” Jeremiah appeared in his vision, waving a small hand to make sure that he was coherent. Elisha made a small whimper in return. “Good. Three. Do what you are told, regardless of the consequences. Repeat it.”

“Do… what I’m told… regardless… of the consequences…” the words were breathed out, as Elisha continued to try and get his breathing under control. He closed his eyes as another wave of dizziness fell over him, but with Ari-Aridai still holding him there was nowhere for him to go.

“Yaay, good boy!” They seemed genuinely excited as they grabbed onto his shoulder. Something small and metal was drug across the floor, and Elisha felt the painful impact of the knife slide across their skin.

“Four. Always ask for permission.”

“Always…” His mouth clamped shut as he nearly added an ‘um’ after, stopping his own blunder. He took in another deep breath to try and calm himself, even though it wasn’t helping as much now. “Ask… for permission.”

Another slice in his skin told him that he was being good. The feelings of both being relieved and horrified coiled around him as the knife drew away and he gasped for air. It felt awful that he would rather be cut than hit with a pipe, when he shouldn’t have to choose between either of them.

“Five. Always remember to thank your Masters.” Jeremiah shifted his weight, drawing the pipe across the ground. Elisha flinched into Aridai’s grip, which somehow felt cold and callous.

“Always… remember to… to thank your Masters,” he repeated after just a few short moments.

“Mm… nope, not quiet,” muttered Aridai. They let go of Elisha, who wavered and fell to the ground again.

Another hit from the pipe against his ribs, and he let out a low keen as the other aches fired up again. He just wanted to be left alone, he was much too weak for this. Even the water seemed like such a pointless goal, with all the pain that he had to endure just to get it.

You need it, his instincts whispered, clearly not understanding the situation.

“Get up, Caleb,” Jeremiah ordered above him.

He shook his head, not of defiance but of defeat once again. Elisha didn’t want to do this anymore. Just leave me alone…

“Aww… does the poor little one want to give up?” Aridai said in a mocking tone, as if he were talking to a stupid animal. It was humiliating, but he nodded his head, feeling his cheeks grow hotter than they had been. “Alright, I get it… but you have to finish your rules before we can leave.” Hands petted through his hair, and he couldn’t even fight them off. “Just be a good boy for us and it can all end that much sooner, okay? I’ll even hold you up.”

Don’t do it. They’re just trying to manipulate you. He had seen this tactic before, on TV shows he used to watch. Give in a little bit, and then they get you to do all sorts of things. Elisha closed his eyes as a lump found its way to his throat. Then he nodded.

“Good.” He was lifted up by his shoulders, and Elisha hissed as the stinging pain traveled to everywhere else that was hurting (which was just about everywhere, now.) “Go on, Jer.”

“Five. Always remember to thank your Masters.”

He swallowed. “Always… remember to… thank my Masters.” The slice of skin, signaling that he got it right.

“Six. Do not speak unless spoken to.”

“Do not speak… unless spoken to.”

“Good boy, Caleb,” Aridai muttered, digging into him once again.

This hurt. All of this hurt, from hearing these rules to saying them to the punishments and “rewards” that he was getting to the horrific praises that Ari was whispering from behind them as they carved into their arm. Elisha would cry, but he didn’t think that he had any water left in his body to do it.

To grant him just a sliver of mercy, however, he was lucky enough to be able to repeat the rest of the words.

“Never… leave the house… unless given explicit permission.”

“Pets don’t sit on the furniture.” 

“Good boy,” Jeremiah praises this time. For once Elisha is thankful to actually hear his voice, but it’s only because Aridai didn’t get to say anything.

The last cut held more relief than pain. Elisha hardly felt it, in fact, before they were suddenly pulling away from him and reappearing in his vision. Aridai held a bright smile on their face as they reached down and picked up the water. Finally. He actually perked up at the sight of it, waiting for him to approach and give him something to drink.

Aridai laughed in his face. “Oh, did you think that you were going to get this? Weren’t you the one who wanted to give up? No, I don’t think so.” They reached out to the side-

And tipped the water over so that it spilled into the floor beside Elisha.

“We’ll be back tomorrow. Maybe you’ll have shaped up by then, hm?”

They turned away, reaching for Jeremiah and wrapping an arm around him like a couple of buddies would. Like they hadn’t just relentlessly tortured someone. Elisha felt bile rise in his throat as he watched the two of them walk away like they had just watched a movie.

“So, how did you like that?” Aridai asked, shaking him a little bit to expunge some of the boundless energy that they seemed to have.

“That was… amazing. I can’t wait to do it again,” Jeremiah repeated, and he caught the slightest smile on their face as they retreated upstairs.

Elisha slumped forward, nearly choking himself from the chain as the collar tugged his throat. He scooted backwards, aching and tired and still so thirsty. It all had been for nothing. His gaze traveled to the water, slowly running down the ever so slight decline that it could find. Humiliation crept in, even alone as he stared at it.

He leaned down and lapped the water off of the floor.

[chubbyooo]

The Road to Redemption - A Blurred Lines Spinoff Chapter 8: The Battle of Odessen

wow this is another long boi these remaining three are gonna be intense Vaylin attacks Odessen and Kavaraa has to break her cover

Kavaraa hadn’t had contact with anyone since sending Arcann into the party, she at least knew he was alive, Nox had seemed to forgive him much to her surprise. Since then she had just been monitoring things she wasn’t sure what Theron was up to, she’d only got a one word message of Nathema. She assumed she wasn’t supposed to go otherwise there would be no need for discretion but she was beginning to get anxious as she paced around the ship.

Suddenly Arcann’s emergency comm blinked and Kavaraa rushed over “Arcann?” she said surprised “this is only for emergencies what’s going on?” Arcann came onto the screen she could hear explosions behind him

Arcann stammered “the fleet it’s attacking Odessen, this may be it Vaylin doesn’t want to wait” Kavaraa gasped this was too early how could she help “the commander and her advisors aren’t back yet we need help” Kavaraa nodded plotting in the hyperspace coordinates

Kavaraa tried to calm herself “I can help coordinate the battle with something Master Satele taught me” Arcann nodded as Kavaraa entered hyperspace and turned on the stealth field

She had been near Odessen just in case so soon she dropped back out and was met with the whole fleet bearing down on the planet “Arcann protect the forces on the ground I’ll handle the forces from space” he nodded shutting off the comm. Kavaraa tried to let all the worry she felt go and sat down and concentrated she had to use her battle meditation right now, she focussed on the ships taking off from Odessen doing her best to improve their formations and cripple the Eternal Fleet this was going to be a long battle…

Kyradia’s ship dropped into the system as she saw the fleet damn it she thought she’d have at least a little time “Odessen status report” she could feel an intense force energy over the battlefield this moment could have catastrophic consequences

Hylo came through the comms “Vaylin caught us with our britches down, still installing the new upgrades going to take a couple minutes before we’re in the air” Kyradia gritted her teeth and now Vaylin was free of her conditioning she had to be careful

Theron spoke up “you and Lana lead the charge, I’ll do more damage behind enemy lines” Kyradia nodded as they brought the ship down…

Kavaraa heard her comm go off as Theron patched himself through “Kavaraa it-” Kavaraa interrupted him time was of the essence 

Kavaraa responded “I know Theron I’m here I’m using my Battle meditation to coordinate the battle” Kavaraa had never done this before but it seemed to be working

Theron gasped “but Kavaraa you’ve never used that before not even Master Satele fully understood it” it was true this was a big risk

Kavaraa dismissed it “if it saves the alliance it’s worth it let me the reckless one for once sweetie” she blushed when she realised that came out

Theron seemed flustered “um ok sure but I’m gonna be on the comms with you the whole time ok?” that seemed fair and it’d help them both feel safer

Kavaraa nodded “sure sounds good now help Nox gain control” Theron and her had quite the job ahead of him…

Kyradia and Lana ran through the rubble making their way up to the base “I’m not letting Vaylin escape again Lana she’s more dangerous than ever” they ran past blaster fire as the battle raged overhead

Lana nodded “we have to stop her here I agree but don’t let her get in your head Kyradia” Kyradia scoffed she was well versed in people trying to get in her head

Kyradia’s comm buzzed and Hylo spoke “enemy forces breached the defences they’re going for the gravestone” Kyradia snarled they couldn’t take their ace in the hole

Her comm changed showing Arcann “Senya and I are close we won’t let them take the ship” Kyradia felt her rage build what was she doing out of her cell

The comm cut off before she could ask “what the hell is Senya doing out of her cell!” she threw rocks across the canyon towards some of Vaylin’s troops in anger

Lana shook her head “it doesn’t matter right now Kyradia, right now she’s just one extra ally so exercise restraint” Kyradia didn’t agree but didn’t have time to argue as they charged towards the gravestone

Kyradia saw as Senya and Arcann defended against ten Knights of Zakuul they worked in fluid motion as they took out five but soon they saw more were on the way, Kyradia looked straight at Senya to build up the anger as she let out a chain of lightning blasts slamming the remaining knights into the wall as Lana sliced into the reinforcements.

Kyradia dashed forward throwing her saber out cutting through the remaining reinforcements alive she slid towards the Tiralls and stabbed the last remaining knight, Arcann breathed a sigh of relief “I don’t think we could’ve held out much longer” Kyradia shot daggers at Senya

Senya spoke “I should’ve known Vaylin would attack Odessen” Kyradia simmered as she looked between them

Kyradia folded her arms “why is she out of her cell?” Arcann seemed to have little to no reaction

Senya scoffed “I’m helping you Kyradia I’m on your side I promise let your personal grudge go for a second, you let my son live and for that I’m forever grateful” Kyradia walked up to her

She growled “I didn’t do it for you Senya I’m not like your precious daughter I play smart not emotional” Senya wasn’t intimidated standing tall

Senya nodded “no you’re not the same Vaylin is broken without the means to repair whereas you still have a chance you have people willing to sacrifice for you but she doesn’t, I know she may not make it out of today alive but can you at least try to get through to her” Kyradia scoffed and turned away not giving an answer she didn’t care about their family trauma

Arcann sighed “either way we will not let Odessen fall to her you have my word” Kyradia nodded they better not betray her again 

Kyradia turned to Senya “I will let you help but if you even show a sign of running off with Vaylin then so help me god I will stick my saber right through your beating heart” Senya finally looked a little rattled Arcann also looking uncomfortable “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that” Kyradia said before turning back around to see the Gravestone rise out of the ground and up into the air

Arcann shook his head “the gravestone alone wont turn this battle. Vaylin is releasing the full force of the eternal empire on Odessen” Kyradia could agree there she had to cut the head off

Senya nodded “conquest isn’t enough for her she seeks to personally annihilate us, for her this is personal” it was definitely personal but she wouldn’t let it go any further

Kyradia folded her arms “then let us use that personal rage against her” sith and rage type force users tended to be easy to manipulate

Arcann nodded “If you lure her down to the surface, you can confront her face to face” Kyradia nodded that sounded ideal

Kyradia smiled “then I’ll make my way to the front lines Lana go and find Theron and help him” she looked to the Tiralls “you two come with me it’ll have greater impact this way” they both looked a little unsettled by Kyradia’s smile but agreed

Kyradia ran forwards with the Tiralls as they made their way through the battlefield Skytrooper flying left and right as she slashed through them towards the comms station, she Senya and Arcann made a good team so there was at least that even if she hated one of them. 

Soon they arrived at the comms and patched through to Vaylin who snarled at her “father’s pet I was just talking about you” Kyradia hated the idea Valkorion controlled any of her actions 

Kyradia raised her eyebrow “how many more of your underlings do I have to kill before you come down here and give me a real challenge” she winked at Vaylin a devious smile across her face

Vaylin was only made angrier “oh I intend to puppet” Kyradia twitched under the nickname Vaylin had started to call her “now that I’ve broken father’s chains I could crush you in a second-but that’s too easy” Kyradia smiled she knew nothing of her true power “I will chew up your friends and grind you precious alliance into paste, when I finally hunt you down you will beg me to end your suffering” Kyradia could feel her rage building

She chuckled “please you think you can scare me Vaylin you are nothing compared to what I’ve seen just a scared little girl throwing a tantrum” that clearly struck a chord as Vaylin began to throw a tantrum before the comm shut off

Kyradia smiled “I believe I’ve proved my point” she expected Arcann to speak but someone else did instead

Valkorion’s echoed voice rung out “my daughter has taken your bait” Kyradia gritted her teeth “now end this and take her place” Kyradia didn’t say a word just quietly seething

Arcann folded his arms “Vaylin will arrive soon we need to get in position” Kyradia nodded as she began to focus

Kyradia smiled “make your way to the base I’m going to take a shortcut” Kyradia focussed all her power and began to slowly phantom stride up the structure, within a couple minutes she’d reached the foot of the base if only she could do that in one go. She saw a squadron of skytroopers ahead and let out a bolt of electricity that coursed through each of them as she ran past into the elevator.

She patched her comm through to Theron “Theron where are you?” she swore she heard something else on the comm

Theron seemed flustered when he responded “uh ah I’m pushing back Vaylin’s forces with Lana” Kyradia heard a sound like someone disconnecting from the comm suddenly

Kyradia felt her rage build “THERON” she felt her rage peak “who the fuck was that” Theron seemed to stammer even more but soon calmed himself

He responded cooly “it was the Basen’thor apparently when she heard there was an attack she came to help she’s been using battle meditation to turn the tide of the battle that’s why we’re not losing” Kyradia really wanted to be angry but that was a really good idea

Kyradia scoffed “ugh damn it we’ll talk about thi-” she was going to finish but as she did the door opened and she was thrown out onto the edge of the balcony as Vaylin laughed

Vaylin strolled up to her “pathetic what did father ever see in you, did he really think you could steal my throne” Kyradia struggled to keep her grip

Before Kyradia could speak Valkorion’s ghostly form appeared behind Vaylin “you are not worthy of the throne, you are not fit to rule the eternal empire” Kyradia could feel her rage building saved by Valkorion please no

Vaylin snarled “I’m more worthy than your new puppet” Kyradia could feel her grip loosening 

Valkorion shook his head “neither of you were ever worthy but it doesn’t matter now, there is only one way to stop Vaylin you know what you must do” Kyradia felt her anger boil as she jumped up landing behind Vaylin

Vaylin laughed “any last words before I end your miserable life” Kyradia drew her saber with a snarl

Kyradia was ready “you will never be satisfied with your revenge and it’ll destroy you hag” with that she lunged at Vaylin this was it time to school this little empress...

https://open.spotify.com/track/3tI114qzJyZYctfLPonBeG?si=CY2mQCM7SGKrAni1wsJuUg

Their blades clashed again as the sound of blaster fire surrounded them Vaylin pushed her back with the force throwing stab after stab at Kyradia who effortlessly blocked each one, Kyradia ran forwards and instead of going to slash concentrated with the force pushing her saber out her hand before tackling her to the ground. Vaylin scratched at her as Kyradia went to stab her but she managed to roll out the way of every one before she punched Kyradia in the stomach with a resounding crack. 

Vaylin reached for her saber which quickly shot to her hand and went to stab at Kyradia, Kyradia saw it and jumped back towards the lift. Kyradia noticed as Arcann and Senya ran into the chamber along with a number of knights of Zakuul engaged in their own fight. 

But Vaylin saw them too “NO this is between me and you” she threw Kyradia back against the wall of the lift and ran in lifting it unnaturally with the force, Kyradia struggled in the intense grip as Vaylin focussed on lifting the lift as far as it would go.

Kyradia spat at Vaylin “you can’t win Vaylin you’re playing right into his hand break the cycle” Vaylin ignored the comment as they reached the top and Vaylin rolled back onto the Balcony at the top of the base.

Kyradia sprinted forwards their blades clashing again as they made their way out into the open air, Vaylin headbutted Kyradia and then responded “the cycle hah you act like you have any control you know he’s five steps ahead of you at least my chaos isn’t what he wants” Kyradia stumbled back barely blocking Vaylin’s strikes as they reached the edge of the balcony

Vaylin pushed her back against it, she could see the intense drop the ground full of debris and soldiers, Kyradia held the blade against hers not letting her gain any headway “your chaos is pointless and damaging, control is important and you lack it more than anyone I’ve ever seen” Kyradia pushed her back dodging as she went for another strike

Vaylin stumbled nearly collapsing over the edge “talk to me about control yeah I can sense it in you, it’s the same unhinged feeling you’re no better than me” oh well she was going to go there

Kyradia growled “ok you wanna see me lose control” Kyradia’s eyes flashed as a green mist emanated off her “be careful what you wish for bitch” she felt the primal instincts take over as she let off a number of quick and successive strikes that Vaylin couldn’t keep up with

For the first time in the fight Vaylin looked worried as she was hit with strike after strike pushing her closer to the edge, her defense was waning each time until Kyradia made a successful slice on her shoulder causing her to stumble back and tumble over the balcony

Kyradia wasn’t letting that stop her, she jumped after Vaylin as they fell she grabbed hold of her ripping the saber out of her hand, Vaylin snarled at her and gave her a vicious right hand. Kyradia kept hold of her, shoving her elbow into her side causing a crunching of bones, the ground was fastly approaching and Vaylin had noticed concentrating with the force and pushing them outwards onto a large starfighter passing by.

They rolled across it Kyradia nearly tumbling off the side before she stood up her voice deeper and echoed “you learn your lesson yet girl” Vaylin’s demeanour had changed she stood up ready to defend against Kyradia as the starfighter flew through the battle

Kyradia had to take advantage; she didn’t have her saber now was the time, she dashed towards her but Vaylin had been concentrating, she jumped upwards landing on an eternal fleet ship close to the ground. Kyradia wouldn’t let her escape though jumping up and landing behind her but it was too late Vaylin’s saber snapped to her hand and she swung around slicing at Kyradia’s legs a sufficient burn across them causing her to buckle and lose some of her primal rage 

Vaylin cackled to herself “wow what an offense but it appears you left your brain at the door when you did th-” before Vaylin could finish Kyradia tackled her to the ground pinning her down and smiled

She growled “I wouldn’t be so sure” she focussed her force lightning as is coursed through her and the rest of the ship, she heard as its engine exploded and the ship began to fall from the sky

Vaylin kicked her in the stomach throwing her back against the hull of the ship, they both were covered in bruises and cuts as Vaylin strode towards her “aghhh you bitch you can’t stop me” she held her saber out as Kyradia stood but before either of them could do anything the ship crashed into the side of the Odessen hills sending them both flying into the forest…

Kavaraa smiled as the tide of the battle was changing but she couldn’t get a lock on Nox and Vaylin “Theron status update?” she had taken control to a new level since Kyradia had realised it was her

Lana actually came through the comms “the fleet is beginning to make more and more mistakes their formation is broken and their troops are depleting” Kavaraa didn’t know what to say to Lana

Kavaraa nodded “um hey Lana sorry we kept this from yo-” Lana interrupted her

She sighed “you think I didn’t know Theron would go off and then you or Arcann would turn up I’m not blind” Kavaraa had to admit she wasn’t so surprised Lana had figured it out “and I thought it was also in the best interests of the alliance so I let it continue” Kavaraa didn’t know what to say 

Kavaraa stammered “oh well thank you for trusting me, I can’t find Nox or Vaylin do you know where they are” Kavaraa noticed a flashing light on her screen what was that 

Lana responded “last I know they were in the base but since then I haven’t been able to find them either” Kavaraa was worried about them Nox needed to win. She looked at the flashing light and gasped, that was the alarm for the Wraths Prison cell they might have another problem…

Kyradia slammed to the ground deep in the Odessen forest trying to get to her feet panting, Vaylin was in a similar situation across the clearing she stumbled to her feet. “I’m not going to give in Kyradia you can’t stop me” Kyradia stumbled up breathing heavily a strong taste of iron in her mouth.

She shook her head “your mother told me something” she laughed “I can’t believe I’m going to do this, she said we weren’t so different and she was right you’ve seen my pain and I know yours people twisted us for their means and we’ve let it fuel us for years” she limped towards Vaylin

Vaylin snarled “don’t you dare try to appeal to me Puppet! You took everything I had left from me” Vaylin stumbled forward her saber still out

Kyradia shook her head “oh believe me I wouldn't dream of it but I know he’s up to something we both do, not to sound like a Jedi but let’s break the cycle and stop Valkorion from beating us then we can kill each other” Vaylin frowned her guard dropping just a little Kyradia felt cheap trying this but it could lower her guard just enough

Vaylin took a deep breath “it would be good to stick it to him” Kyradia held out her arm but focussed ready to stride “I have to say for a puppet you put up a good fight and it’s clear you understand” she reached out with her hand “but you’re standing in my way” she snarled as she went to stab Kyradia but Kyradia had always been expecting that and phantom strode behind he driving her saber through her back

Vaylin shrieked out in pain as she stumbled forward “you bitch you never intended to help me” Kyradia frowned at her as she stumbled to the ground

Kyradia shook her head “and you had no intention of joining me I guess we really are the same” Kyradia couldn’t gloat for too long

She heard the ghostly voice in her ear “this isn’t over even now my daughter is still a threat” Kyradia snarled at Valkorion as if she didn’t know that 

Vaylin chuckled “oh father you know me so well” a huge explosion of force energy emanated from her causing Kyradia to stumble back the trees around them began to snap and fall

Valkorion shook his head “I have no power over Vaylin, only you are strong enough to stop this” Kyradia was pushed back against the tree but slowly walked towards Vaylin through the force energy

Vaylin almost seemed to plead “the eternal throne is mine you can’t take this from me, it’s mine” Kyradia held her saber out and once she was close enough she swung it forward through Vaylin, she screamed out the force energy exploding around her before she fell to the ground

Kyradia rushed over to Vaylin “shhhh shhh don’t worry the voices will stop now, you can rest” she smiled at Vaylin cradling her as she died, she at least deserved to not die alone.

Vaylin spat blood out at her “no wonder father picked you, you can’t see it even when it was right in front of you fool” Kyradia wiped it off her face as Vaylin fell limp in her arms

Valkorion stood behind her “it’s time you took the throne Kyradia” Kyradia felt all her anger build up inside her turning to Valkorion

She attempted to punch him but of course it didn’t work “not even one second of mourning for your dead child you really are the worst piece of shit in the galaxy” Valkorion dismissed the comment “you broke her and you’re not even sorry listen well and listen good I will destroy you Valkorion I am not your puppet” Valkorion nodded and looked up to the fleet as it started to bomb the entire galaxy

Valkorion snarled at her “you will take the throne or everyone you ever cared about will die you are my puppet now do it” Kyradia screed out in rage trying to hit him with anything

Kyradia shook her head “I don’t care about them if I beat you” Valkorion chuckled to himself 

He tutted “I know you care about a select few right now the planet of Voss is being bombed and an old apprentice of yours is there, sit on the throne or she dies along with all your other friends” Kyradia’s eyes widened no he couldn’t have found them what could she do, he disappeared from sight laughing

Kyradia shouted into the darkness “I will stop you! You do not control me” his laugh echoed as she was left with a difficult decision let those she cared about die or play right into his hands...

[the-headbop-wraith]

2_28 Pit Fall

There was something inherently creepy about schools after hours.  Once all the teachers had departed their homes and their lives, the children’s voices now vacant from the long empty halls.  Sounds rose about when there should be no utterance; creaks in the tall walls, the rattle of the heating ducts generating a hospitable environment for the lingering abandonment, the scuttle of pages on a desk.  A school was a place meant for inhabitance, it should be alive with laughter, voices, excitement.  It should be filled with life.

But not at night, in the slow treading hours post dusk.

The cafeteria was expansive, with a stage to the opposite end of the kitchen/serving station. For the evening’s janitorial service, all chairs were flipped and set seat down on the table tops.  Three emergency exits were strategically built on three accessible walls of the lunchroom, one was the entrance on the far side of the cafeteria where students filed in from one main hall, and the second was adjacent to the kitchen itself, its bright words EXIT gleam a harsh green in the blue haze of the shade studded room.  

A last pair of escape doors was built into the opposite wall near the performance stage, where the left wing of the sloping ramp descended from the stage top. Hanging high on the wall beside the double doors rested a large tak board, an abundance of notices and cautionary signs pinned with colorful pins.  Most notably, the many pictures of children in black and white, some photo copies in color with information typed beneath the print.  

Yellow light flashes across the deep maroon curtain hanging beside the stage.  The fabric sways in some draft, or reluctance to the light disturbing its rest.  Arthur doesn’t like it.  The fabric reminds him… reminds him of things he wants to forget.  His good hand fumbles around in his pocket, tracing the crinkled edge of the box there.  He moved his torch beam over the surface of the photos slowly.  He twists away from the images and accusations and moves back to the blue figure huddled over a laptop, she and the machine seated on the edge of a long table, the chairs removed from the tables top were returned to the floor.

“None of the kids really have anything in common, only that they’re not over twelve,” Vivi murmurs. She scrolls through her grid block tab filled with information, names, dates; the blue light of the screen slithers across her face and gloved hand.  The touch pad doesn’t work if she wears the gloves, though form fitting they are, and very stylish.  “But I’m able to adjust my search, and find out what days of the month kids have gone missing.  Try and narrow it down.  Hmm?”

Dimitri slipped closer to the table Vivi sat upon, and looked at the screen.  “Five have gone missing since me,” he uttered.  “Five.”

“We haven’t even started,” Vivi says.  “There’s this one area on the edge of town, where people have mentioned seeing kids prior to their disappearance.  District… Flower?  What was that name?  Hold on.”

“Maybe it is the Slender-man then,” Arthur muttered.  He moved away from the high board with the pictures of happy children— once happy, locked now in a time of carefree innocence.  Some of the pictures had come loose from the board from the overuse of pins, and now lay on the floor at the walls base.  “We have about fifteen to twenty minutes.”  He shifts the flashlight beam from his pocket watch to the table, and pockets the watch.  “Did you say you moved here?”

Dimitri stared at where the light hit the table, forming a golden halo.  He barely realized then that the group used color coordinated flashlights.  “Yeah,” he mumbled, distracted.  “When my dad divorced.”  He looked at Arthur, as the other swung his torch away and set the light beneath his chin.  Dimitri winced, Arthur looked creepy with the blue of the moonlight and the cold empty windows as a backdrop.

“Then I will be impetuous and conclude, your brother is half-brother?” said Arthur.  Vivi snapped her head up, her bright glasses glinting under the light of the computer.  She had that look that could kill – if a minor were not present.

Dimitri only nodded, unperturbed.  “Uh-huh. Some kid tried teasing me about it, and I punched them in the face.”

“That’s… very Noble of you,” Vivi says, glancing up at the boy.  “But you shouldn’t hit people at your age.  Wait until you’re older.”  Arthur choked on whatever he was about to say.  “Time, Art?”

“We still have some. I’ll let you know.”  Arthur pulled out his pocket watch anyway, soothing kinked nerves with the slow tick of the moving minute hand.  

“It’s showing up here,” Vivi mentioned, pointing a gloved finger.  She scrolled down the grid she compiled of the updated information ‘gathered.’  She tapped at the keypad and began nodding to herself, a half glimpse to the screen as the text reloaded.  “You’re right.  That given, we know that whatever takes the kids, only takes those who are native born. Clear matches.”

“Adults aren’t— ” Arthur shut his mouth, and jerked his light in the direction of the kitchen, where vague noises echoed from.  A creak and low humming, probably the refrigerator unit kicking into gear.  He took a breath, and tightened his gloved hand into a fist around the fabric of his pants leg.  “Elders don’t seem bothered.  None disappear?”

“Whatever it is, it’s not interested in them,” Vivi reflects.  “It just doesn’t want interference.  Or maybe they are affected but mildly, I dunno, subdued?  They don’t completely forget, the extent is ‘lost interest’?”  Dimitri crossed his arms over his chest and frowned Vivi’s way, but she took no notice; she was fully engrossed with the laptop.  She pressed a fist to her lips and thought, humming softly to herself.  “It can’t worry over adults getting suspicious, awful as that sounds it won’t risk removing those past their teen years.  What would its motive be in taking the children then?”

Dimitri climbed up on top of the table and stood before the computer, and Vivi bathed in the hazy light.  “You still think there’s something unnatural going on around here, huh?” he hissed, fists clenched at his sides.

“We’re open minded,” Vivi states, looking up at him.  “What’d you say?  ‘The authorities in charge of finding the kids gave up because they are the abductors?’ It’s possible.”  She began typing, fast, and raised her shoulders.  “Maybe the parents forget because there’s something in the water?  A sedative? Those are all possibilities.  Is that what you want to hear?”

Arthur slunk back over to the table, the light of his torch aimed at his shoes.  “We don’t seem affected.”

Vivi snaps at him, “When do we ever drink water?”

Arthur paused, as if he never considered that fact.  “Oh.  Right.”

Dimitri sighed, and brought his hands up to his head and tugged at his hair.  He supposed it didn’t matter what they thought, as long as they were looking.  The Mystery Skulls were his only hope.  Still, he wished Lewis was back from wherever he had gone.  It worried him when Vivi and Arthur never mentioned him, and when/if they did it felt similar to how adults lie – negotiating lies- to sooth upset toddlers.  Dimitri didn’t like to be treated like a kid, they didn’t give him enough credit. Lewis did.  “Where do we go, then?” Dimitri mumbled.

Vivi fumbled with the orphaned glove that lay on her lap, and studied the screen.  Dimitri edged forward and saw the familiar layout of Google maps.  Vivi was frowning.  “I only have an obscure lead on—” She glanced Arthur’s way, when Arthur spun around and held up a hand.  For a tense moment they were quiet as Arthur tilt his head down and listened.  Without a word, he motioned hastily for the two at the table to move.  Vivi shut the laptop gently and she slings off her backpack.

Not long after they had everything gathered – the laptop packed away, the chairs replaced atop the table – the three were mobile and ready to exit.  Before Arthur could open the exit door, Mystery’s clinking paws scuttled from the darkness, he gave a few gruff barks as he darted by the group and kept going, weaving among the table legs.  Arthur caught Dimitri by the shoulder and nudged the smaller figure towards Mystery’s flashing outline.  Rather run all the way around a table, Dimitri dropped to his hands and knees and crawled after the dog.  

Arthur followed the path of the two with his flashlight. “Shit,” he cursed.  “We should still have time.”

“D!” Vivi hissed. “Let me and Arthur go first.”  She followed close behind Dimitri, her flashlight darting around seeking Mystery.  “The curfew might have made the response faster.  Focus on keeping our heads, and not get caught.  That would very much not work out in our favor.  Stay close Dimitri.”  As the group moved, Mystery picked up the pace, his shallow ‘ruffs’ gave indication of where he had winked out through the shadows.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Arthur hissed.  “Why do I ever let you talk me into this?  I know the outcomes gonna be bad.  I never learn.”  

“You’re a supportive friend,” Vivi reminds.  “And you wouldn’t forgive yourself if something bad happened to us.”  Arthur gave a rather theatrical groan.

They reach one exit on the far side of the cafeteria, the doors locked with a heavy chain and padlock.  Vivi takes Arthur’s flashlight as Arthur begins to pad down his pants pockets.

Mystery yips at him.

“I’m hurrying.  Don’t rush me.”  Arthur locates his lock pick kit and selects the sharp along with a toggle, he clenched the sharp tool between his teeth and grips the padlock in his good hand.  The tool clicks in the mechanism, but he lets out a low grunt through his teeth. “Damn.”

“Hold the lights, D.” Vivi passes the flashlights over to Dimitri, then takes Arthur’s arm and elbow between her hands.  Arthur mutters a ‘thanks’ as he spun the point in the keyhole of the padlock.  When the padlock clicks, Arthur rips the chain away.  Vivi jumps up, pulling the deadbolt in the top of the door free and charges forward, shoving the door latch and forces one door open.  “Stay behind me.”

“K?” Dimitri mumbles, as Vivi tugs his arm along.  Dimitri hands one torch to Vivi, and aims his light onto the polished surface of the floor.  Behind them, Arthur tossed his tools into the case and shoved it in his pocket.  “But what happens if we get caught?”  His face warmed a bit when Vivi gripped his free hand. It was beyond embarrassing, but he kind of didn’t mind.  

Vivi gave a little laugh but didn’t look back at him.  “Caught? Who gets caught?” she chuckled.

“Oh?”  Dimitri decided Vivi was cool.  She went on crazy adventures, broke into buildings at night, evaded the police, and she had an awesome dog.  Why couldn’t more girls be like her?

Mystery hung back as Arthur dragged the door shut.  “If they find that chain there,” Arthur grumbled.  Mystery yipped at him.  “Hey, wait! You got the light!  Hold on!”

“Think you can keep up?” Vivi whispered.  She released Dimitri’s hand.  “Don’t fall behind.  Arthur! Hurry!  You‘re setting a bad example.”

“You’re making too much noise.” hissed the mechanic.  He fell in pace behind Dimitri, Mystery to his side bouncing and yapping.  The flashlights weren’t necessary to guide them, even if they were not exploring a linear hall, moonlight drenched the row of windows beside them.  Sleek polished floors reflected streaks of silver across white washed walls, and the redirected light flooded the interior corridor. The walls that concealed the classrooms were decorated typical Grade school style, with numerous large boards tacked to the plaster and each filled with colorful pictures, typed and written essay papers.  Arthur could see out onto the open road ventured over earlier that day, the bright lawns coated in crystalizing frost in the falling temperature.  Another patrol car went by, a head lamp flashed across the large windows—

“Duck!”  Arthur threw himself to the floor.

Vivi snagged Dimitri before he could take off, and slid down to her knees as Arthur belly flopped. On the walls of pictures and schoolwork, the light slid by tracing the dark outlines of pages, a rogue breeze rustled a few papers at their base.  Vivi waits and watched the light gingerly scan over the wall, as if inspecting the labors of children. “Let’s keep moving,” she murmurs.  “Stay low.  There should be doors at the end of the hall.”

“At the end,” Arthur cues in.  “Might be an office, or library, some sort of intersection?  Dimitri, you know where you are?”

The boy nods, though the others can’t see it in the dark space below the window.  “This is the Kinder side.  The doors at the end here lead out to the playground.  Heh, I feel like a criminal.”

“Sorry about that,” Vivi hums.  “I wasn’t really thinking about how bad of a mess we can be in, if we get caught with you.”

“I told you!” Arthur ranted, throwing his arm up. “You never listen!”  His metal arm made a dull thump when it came down, the glove he wore dampening its odd sounds.

“I take everything you say into consideration,” Vivi says, gently.  “Besides, were not novices, we won’t get caught.”  Arthur just growled to himself, muttering what sounded like ‘coats‘.  “When we get outside, we’ll need to stick to the shadows and time when it’s clear.  We can’t go back to the van right away.  We have to be strategic about this.”

“You do this often?” Dimitri whispered.

Arthur muttered, growled something.  “That’s… confidential.”  Dimitri didn’t ask anymore after that.

The large doors were in an alcove, where the group could stand without too much concern of being seen from the road, as Arthur picked the lock.  Once the doors were open, Dimitri cast a last glance to the hall. He’d never been in this section before, except under special occasions.  He shook himself and turned to join the others in the brisk night.

It’s cold.  Colder than the night before, the sky absolutely baron of the clouds from the evening past.  Dimitri watches his breath fades in the air.  The school had been shielded and heated from the night after hours ended, and now he missed it.  He didn’t care if they got caught.  As long as he could be warm for a bit longer; ride in a patrol car.  But… his brother might be cold too.  Wherever he was, he would be scared too, and there was no way of knowing if he was warm, safe, comfortable.  They couldn’t stop, not when they were close.  He could feel it this time.

“Give me the light.” Vivi took the torch from Dimitri and shut it off.  “Stay close to Mystery, all right?  And stay in the shadows.”

“I know how to sneak,” Dimitri grumbles.  “Only idiots get spotted.”  Arthur startles him when he begins coughing, and it’s hard to decide if he mucked up another off key comment or if the sharp air was hurting his throat.

Save for Mystery, who trots out and around to spot for on foot security, the group hugs the tall brick walls.  They hike around the shielded side of the school, among thick shrubs and decorative cement barriers that align ramps, always in the presence of steps.  The entire school was contained within walls, and any outside corridors cutting through were barred by tall metal gates. Refrozen ice from the night before glittered in tall standing lamps, its crusty surface crunched under foot.  In some areas there was evidence of children’s play, snow angles and dark soil exposed where frost was scooped up.

“It’s really cold,” Dimitri chattered, as they passed by another corner.  By then they had made it the edge of the football field, where they had crossed an hour earlier on their wild mission for references. Encircling the entirety of the field and school grounds was a chain-link fence and beyond that awaited the neighborhoods, a few homes visible with their bright friendly light glowing in window cutouts.  He’d come past this corner many times with his friends in the past, when it was still safe to hike up to the school alone.  He wondered if the disturbed ice was caused by kids that had been born in the town. “My teachers say it gets that way, ‘cause of the sky being cloudless.  Something about clouds trapping heat.”

Arthur gripped his bad shoulder as he stepped around the corner.  “Yeah,” he mutters.  “Heat can’t escape, that’s why.  It doesn’t make a lot of sense unless you know the science behind it, because it….” He let his voice trail off, and caught Vivi by the shoulder of her coat. “We should call it a night.”

Vivi turned to look at Arthur, as withdrew his arm to hold his shoulder.  “Okay.  I know, I know,” she said, voice misting.  She reached her hands up tugging at the straps of her backpack, and then turned to where Dimitri was poised beside the wall, staring out.  There was something she needed to tell Dimitri, something important, but the thought had dropped from her mind.  Vivi sighed and touched her glasses.  “Well… we can leave you off at your house for the night.  How does that sound?”  Wasn’t his father upset?  “No-no.  His father forgot.”

Dimitri glanced at Vivi.  “I can’t go back,” he mutters.  “I tried, but… I can’t.  Not until…. Can we start looking?  Now? Why can’t we start?”  He stepped up to Vivi and stared at her. “Tonight?  Looking?  It’s so cold… my brother, what if he’s cold?”

Vivi draws back, and glances to Arthur.  “We can’t,” she says.  Arthur shrugs, and sticks his hands into his pockets.  “We’re not ready, and it can be dangerous searching the woods, especially at night.”

Dimitri felt something in him tighten painfully.  “When will you be ready?  When will the time be right!  I’m done waiting!”  Mystery was sniffing around near them, but when Dimitri began screaming the dog raised his head and perked his ears.  “Just show me where.”

“Just calm down.” Vivi hands over the flashlight and Dimitri, hesitant, takes it.  The bulb is still warm, and he presses it to his cheek.  “I have an idea where we’ll start, but in the morning when its warmer and we get some supplies.”  She glances Arthur’s way when he flicks the lighter and raises the glimmering flame to his cigarette.  “Just one more day.  What— ” She cuts off when Dimitri wrenches out of her grip, the torch held beside him. Dimitri shakes his head vigorously.

“No.  No-no-no, don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, voice low. “Don’t you dare say.”

Vivi takes another step in his direction, but stops and clasps her hands in front of her lap. “What if you just tried accepting that….”

“NO!” Dimitri’s voice echoes off the tall black wall and shoots across the vacant field.  “I don’t CARE! what anyone says!  I know my brother’s out there!  Someone stole him, so he has to be SOMEWHERE!  If you won’t— ” he has to stop, the tears constrict his throat and he‘s choking on the words, the memories.  His little brother, gone from his bed.  “Fuck it!”  He thrusts the flashlight down, causing both Arthur and Vivi to jerk when it cracks against the frozen soil.  Dimitri stifles a sob as he tears across the field.

Mystery stares the way Dimitri heads, and glances to his companions.  He lowers one ear and tilts his head.

“Shit, that’s really done it.”  Arthur sticks the cigarette between his lips and turns to Vivi.  “I told you, right?  This was a bad deal from the get go.  Just… you should’ve waited.”  He starts in the direction of Dimtiri’s fading form, halfway across the football field. Vivi doesn’t move, except to raise a hand to her eyes.

“You should go after them, Mystery.”  Vivi turns and approaches the wall where Dimitri had been standing, and uses a hand to keep herself stationed and upright.  “You know you should.  Please. Go.”

Mystery turns away from Vivi, but dithers back. He doesn’t want to leave her, but Dimitri could just keep running from them, become lost from them for good.  It wasn’t safe now.  He gives his head a shake and cuts over the frost coated landscape, flurries shredded between his paws.  Of course he couldn’t abandon the boy now.  But Mystery almost feared most leaving Vivi alone for too long in her current state. Not this time.  It would be all right.  Not like… not like before.

His face hurt as he ran.  Tears streaking, skin pummeled by the merciless frigid air, and his throat was full of cold needles.  He ran until he felt like his lungs were bursting and his breath tasted salty, like blood gushed forth.  Still he ran, ran away from it all.  His problems, the things he couldn’t fix, the people that gave up on him.  Flee his sorrow.  But where was he to go?  Would there be answers or more lies, hidden by kindness?  How was he to tell friends from those that would fail him?  He couldn’t do it anymore.  One time he had fought, then he was running – nothing ever worked for him.  Never!

A bark.  Some stray out of nowhere, plowed right at his feet.  Dimitri barely caught himself as he staggered, the dog had lunged in close but not directly under him, only startling close.  It was enough to upset his balance and he toppled into the cold ice and grass of a lawn.  He lay on his side a moment half crying and wheezing, he couldn’t wrestle control over his breathing, could only lament and be miserable.

Mystery stood nearby, his own breath misting from the exertion.  He gave a low yip and padded forward to press his nose into Dimitri’s shoulder.  Come on, get up.  He blew warm breath on Dimitri’s ears and nuzzled his face.

“No!  Get away!” Dimitri tried to swat at the mutt, but Mystery only came back and snagged his shoulder sleeve and growled. “I said go ‘way!”  He shoved Mystery by his shoulders, and in the same motion Dimitri rolled upright onto his knees.  “Stop!  I mean it! I‘m not playing!”

Mystery tugged at his shoulder and maneuvered himself aside as Dimitri tried in vain to remove the dogs jaws with his hands.  Mystery snorted and pulled harder, the hound accented his desires with more low snarls, gentle snarls that were not hostile but demanded attention.  Dimitri stopped fighting and just stares as Mystery holds his sleeve.  After a short while, Mystery released Dimitri’s coat and turns away. He took a few steps toward a bright slice of sidewalk and looked back, yellow spectacles glinting under the moonlight.

“They won’t help me,” Dimitri mumbled.  

Mystery yipped.  Oddly, the sound had a resonance akin to “come along, now.”  But that would’ve been weird.  It was just cold and Dimitri’s ears ached.  With another bark, Mystery began to walk away.  The dog paced a few yards from Dimitri, throwing his head back with another series of yelps and hoots, not like the sounds of a dog.  He keeps this up, until Dimitri managed to his feet and plodded into the steady pace his escort set.

Dimitri stumbled a bit on the slick sidewalk as he followed, and worked to brush the glittery patches of cold from his coat.  The coat Vivi had bought him.  “I want my brother back.”  Mystery whines.  The fringes of moonbeams punch through the tall gnarled trees above, accenting his white fur with silver highlights and maroon flashes.  “Dad didn’t like it.”  Mystery slowed his pace and let Dimitri catch up to him.  “I thought maybe that’s why he didn’t care.  But I know he would, I know he would’ve.  He’s not like that.”  Dimitri rubbed away the icy tears drying to his cheeks.  “He just doesn’t understand!”  He caught himself on Mystery before he could fall again, then noticed the sidewalk that they were now on.  “Where we going?”

The only answer was a dismissive gurgle as Mystery padded off, his pace picking up.  Dimitri knew where they were, and he felt some small warmth return, a bit of hope restore itself.  The van was ahead, parked in front of the empty lot overgrown with brown weeds and trees. He hadn’t thought about returning, hadn’t given a second thought to just waiting.  He just… it was too much to think about, and tears edged at his eyes again. He didn’t know why, it didn’t help his current situation any small amount.  He was still at square one.

Mystery trotted ahead to the vans back and began sniffing around the sides.  “Is Lewis here?” Dimitri questions, as he stares up at the tall, imposing outline of the vehicle.  The van had a sense of isolation, separate from the night.  It seemed to devour the shadows, yet there were no trees near the road to cast shrouds of blues and blacks.  “He should be back, shouldn’t he?”  Dimitri hurried to the back door and knocked.  “Lew?”

No answer.  That didn’t come as a surprise, but it was disappointing.

“Is he around?” Dimitri asked, even as he knocked on the doors again; the hollow banging echoed within the metal walls. Even the resonance felt cut off from the outer environment.  “Lew? Are you there?  It’s me, Dimitri!”  He tried the door handle and found it unlocked.  “Mystery?”  Dimitri pulled the door open and peered into the wall of black that hovered before them. “Hello?”  Dimitri waited, listening and trying to perceive the impenetrable wall.  He stepped aside when Mystery wriggled beside his leg and sprang up into the interior, the black hung low and soaked into Mystery’s white fur.  “Is… someone there?”

Though Dimitri’s sight was limited, he could still make out that Mystery’s behavior was odd.  The dog hesitates and listens carefully, ears aimed forward, focused on an unknown factor.  Mystery sniffs at the air, then carefully, sets his raised paw, the one still bandaged, down.  He moves further, deeper, into the dark gloom, fading out of sight.

Dimitri scrambles to climb up after the dog, but first manages to stumble sideways when his legs get tangled up in the thick blankets left along the wall.  “Stupid,” the boy mutters, as he uses a ledge or something to push himself back up. “Lewis?”  The air inside the van is ten times worse than the open air, so cold it penetrated his coat and nearly burned his skin.  Dimitri shudders and begins to feel along the wall.  He knows they had a few flashlights hidden around, but he never paid attention to where the spares were kept.  Some light would help.  “Mystery? Where’d you go?”  His voice cracked.  The dog was nowhere, he couldn’t even detect where Mystery might be and Dimitri worried he’d wind up falling on top of him.  He tries whistling.  “Mystery puppy.  C’mere. This is no time to hide.”

Something in the dark swatted at him, and Dimitri gave a little cry as he fought it off.  He was nearly to the point of hysteric shouts, before he was backed away from the slumping curtain.  He laughed a little, uneasy and shaken.  “I forgot about that.” He stands motionless staring now at the blanket half hanging from the ceiling.  The gravity of his situation coiled about his mind.  No one was in the van, he was alone.  Lewis had not been here at all.

A small bark was given by Mystery, prompting Dimitri to locate the dog over at the back doors?  Fresh light from the moon slipped unrestrained through the interior of the van, but the details were still hazy and crudely molded.  Some bags and supplies were stacked on one side of the van, blankets piled by the other wall.  At the doors stood Mystery’s bright outline, he barked into the night with some little urgency and the little spot of his tail wagged cheerily.

“Is someone out there?  Lewis?”  Dimitri asked.  He raced across the floor and darted out, past Mystery as he slipped aside.  

Dimitri took a few steps out onto the road, and Mystery waited until he began to inspect his surroundings for any indication of a friendly face.  Mystery padded away from the door, and took a hold of the blankets rumpled across the floor. Dimitri was still calling out into the night with some rising desperation, while Mystery worked to uncover the dark shape sculpted in the shadows.  He moves around the side and holds his head back, high, in part scrutinizing the dark container, and a small trace of reluctance in his demeanor.  

For Dimitri.  

Mystery expels a misty whine, and begins pawing at the edge of the box, timidly, as if dipping his toes into thick paints.

There was no one outside.  At least, not from what Dimitri could see.  Maybe there was someone, the same person that stole children. He gulped down another hiccup, but felt his face twisting with the sickness of sorrow.  They could be watching him right now, aware that he knew too much.  He must be silenced.  No one would know, he would soon be forgotten – for real this time.  The people he once loved, believed in, none of them would care. Mystery wouldn’t leave him to danger, but Mystery wasn’t with him right now.  What if the dog was trying to warn him, and Dimitri completely missed it?

He felt an illness twist in his guts, rooted by too much of stress and sorrow, and no remedies.  It scooped up his insides and ripped them all out, his heart and soul. No one would help.  No one could understand.  He was alone.

“I just wanted my brother back.”  Dimitri squatted down and wrapped his arms tightly around his legs and shook, he tried to bury it in his chest but it lurched free. Pain and guilt, serials murderers of hope and dreams.  “Give him back.  Please.” His hands and nose ached, his fingers were numb.  Everything was cold and sharp on his nerves.  He didn’t care if he fell asleep here and never woke up, or if a speeding car were to careen by.  Anything would be better than the punishment of being forgotten.  “I loved him.  I swear I did.  He looked up to me, I was important….”

“Dimitri?” a voice called.  “What’re doing here?”

The odd scratchiness made it tricky to identify, but Dimitri knew the tone of that voice.  He tried to uncoil and stand all at once, and instead fell onto his side as he twisted around on the icy road.  “Lewis!”

“Y-yeah,” said the figure, slipping out of the van. He was zipping up his coat and teetering on his feet, looking away, around.  “Right… quick question.”  He adjusted his voice, working through the hoarseness.  Lewis gave the area a brief scan then turned back to Dimitri, raising a hand to his face. “Where… are we?”  He recoiled when Dimitri gave a shrill cry and lunged at him. Lewis put his arms out to catch the boy, but Dimitri flew right through his palms and wrapped himself around Lewis’ legs.

“I want my brother!  I want to look for my brother!” screamed the boy.

“Qué pasa en el mundo?  Que… what’s wrong?”  Lewis couldn’t pry Dimitri free, and he wasn’t going to try. “Talk to me, Dimitri.  Where are the others?”

“They won’t help me look!” Dimitri tightened his arms around Lewis, his last lifeline.  “Vivi. She was… she was gonna say it.  My brother’s not dead.  My brother’s not dead!  He’s just missing!”  Dimitri buried his face into Lewis’ leg, and began to quiet when Lewis set his hands on his back.  “He’s not. You believe me.  Don’t you?” he mumbled.

Lewis would’ve sighed if he could.  He didn’t understand anything; this conversation Dimitri had with Vivi, or where Vivi was for that matter.  It was too surreal, too sudden, he wasn’t ready for this.  There was just Mystery as a guide, but Mystery was in distress too, as much as the dog would allow Lewis to take from.

“Lew.  Your glasses.”  Lewis jerked his head up, and found Arthur placed not far from him.  As if to emphasize the point, Arthur raised a hand to his face.

And Arthur was smoking.

“I didn’t,” Lewis began, and rephrased his sentence. He wanted to move away, get away from Arthur, but something was… off.  Very off.  “I didn’t hear you.”

“Uh huh.”  Arthur took another draw from the white stick, and slanted his eyes a bit. “Vi and I were gonna call it a night… uh, Dimitri.  Aren’t you tired?”  He leaned a little over, towards the boy.  Dimitri just mumbled and whimpered into Lewis’ leg.  

“Where’s Vivi?” Lewis inquired.  To his side, Mystery poked his head out from the interior of the van and fixed on Arthur.

“Well, she didn’t want to run,” Arthur reasoned. “Is the van still cold?”  He stepped a little closer to Lewis as he puffed at his cigarette.

The sensation was unsettling.  It was Arthur in every aspect, but parts of him were shut off.  His usual writhing aura of indecision, doubt, was diluted with something unfamiliar. There was no mediating presence, only a null absorbing warmth and drive, persona defined.  Lewis was struggling to reach out and understand the coldness, the vague indifference, but it was impossible to grasp.  And for Lewis, he didn’t want to realize it.

“Dimitri,” Lewis says.  “Go find me a big stick.  Real quick.”

“What?  Why?” He loosens his hold and tries to look up at Lewis, but Lewis moves out of his way, leaving only a hand on his shoulder as he swings around and towards Arthur.

“It’s got them too,” Lewis supplies.  “We’re gonna knock some sense into Arthur.”  At that comment, a little squeal spills from the boy and he races off.  Mystery lunges out of the van and follows, yipping.

That little cry almost startled Lewis, it was a amost too happy for comfort.  He’s brought back to place and time, when Arthur exhales a mouthful of mist and smoke. Lewis glides back and settles. “Arthur,” he hisses.

“I’m trying to… fix this,” the lean figure mutters. “It’s complicated, ah.  I told you guys we shouldn’t have come.  I told you!  Didn’t I?” He shakes his head and brings the cigarette back to his lips.  He’s not watching Lewis.  “‘Hey,’ I say.  ‘Let’s try something else.’  No one ever listens to me!”

“That’s… not true,” Lewis says.  He takes a step back, out of Arthur’s range.  “I can’t reason with you like this.”  It didn’t suit Lewis to be timid, but he was frazzled from his dormancy.  Time was needed to refocus, dampen his sensory, the pitch of the colors swirling, but answers!   He wanted answers and Arthur… Arthur was the last person Lewis could ask.  Rather pursue the ghost, Arthur moved away towards the open back of the van.  Lewis slung forward and jerked Arthur back by grabbing at the compromised shoulder. “You need to talk to me.”

Arthur staggers away, one arm latched at his bad shoulder. “That doesn’t always work.  Does it?”  When Lewis moves forward to pull him back, Arthur exhales a cloud of smoke. Some of its ash, most of its breath, but it nips at Lewis like static.  Interference.  “I don‘t know how to approach you.”

“Arthur.”

“Seem like every time I wake up, there’s you.” Arthur gestured with his arms, and glowers at Lewis.  The ghost doesn’t rebuke the comment.  “I hate the dark, I hate sleeping… ‘coz your always there.”

“Art.”

“Even before you made that spook fun house!  You were there!  You never left me!  You just… won’t get out of my head.”  Arthur moves to the doors but stops.  Lewis hasn’t budged from where he stands, biding time.  Arthur brings the cigarette to his lips.  When he exhales, that’s when Lewis will move.  “Shouldn’t you be concerned about Vivi?”  Arthur coughed on the smoke as he spoke, “I just kind of left her— ” The sentence ends when Lewis dives forward, grabbing the smaller figure by the shoulders.  Arthur gags as he’s shoved onto the floorboard of the van, and held there as Lewis reaches off to the side for the backpacks.  

“You were probably going for a Dispel,” Lewis says, as he works to get a bag open.  “But I can’t trust you, not the way you are.  You don’t know what you’re doing.”  If he couldn’t get a bag open he had to find something in the cuvees, but he wasn’t sure of what to use.

“DAH!  Yu!” Arthur flops wildly to loosen the hold, but Lewis only tightens his grip and keeps Arthur pinned down.  An intelligible set of squabbles spills from Arthur’s throat as he fumbles around for something, a weapon.

A piece of paper, rolled up.  Arthur knew what the sheet was, if he could manage he always kept one nearby.  Vivi had given it to him and he suspected it might have been a placebo, but he was willing to try anything.  Arthur’s hands were left free, and Lewis was distracted with fumbling through the supplies. With one swipe Arthur had uncoiled the script page and pressed it onto Lewis’ arm.  “Spirit!  Release me.” He wanted to laugh at how absurd the phrase sounded, and he was saying it to Lewis.  The laugh came out with a maniacal peel as Arthur took a breath through the harsh cold air, smoke still curling in his lungs.

Lewis gave a high pitched shriek and withdrew a fraction from the sheet of paper.  In the confusion, Arthur managed to get himself right side up and held the page out before him, but the words he intended to speak got lost when he saw the skull and the bright eyes blazing back at him.  Arthur barked a curse right as Lewis grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the opposite wall of the van.  Arthur can smell burning, carpet or plastic, he sees flames seeping up along Lewis’ suit collar and broad shoulders.  

“I don’t want your tears, or your apology!”

Arthur winces, and kicks out against Lewis’ stomach but the ghost can’t feel it.  “Lew’s,” he rasped.  Heat, fire twisting in his skin, up his bad arm, spilling through his nightmares. “Don’t!  LU-wus!”  He feels his throat compressing to a dangerous amount and darkness begins creeping behind his eyes.  “No!  NO! WHY?!”  Arthur panics and claws at the jacket sleeve, fights to rip away and reclaim consciousness, but the hands are locked to his throat and those ‘eyes’ burn into his own as if they are sipping at his soul.  “Don’t keH -eh. –Mm beg…  Don… Lews, lis-  Listehhn….” Arthur voice becomes garbled, butchered.  “Lis-sEN.  Wak— Don’t do -iss.  Is eee…..” It reaches the point where Arthur feels his neck is ready to snap in two.  His grip jerks feebly at Lewis sleeve one final time, then his hands go limp.

“If only… if only….” Lewis echoes, to himself.  “If only…?  Can’t turn back time.”  Lewis’ eye sockets flare briefly, and the embers along his back diminish.  “Art? Artie!”  His hands spring open and Arthur slumps across the floor with a heavy Thump.  “Oh Dios!  Art.  Di algo. Yo no podía tener.  Nunca lo haría…a ti…”  Arthur doesn’t move, and he’s not breathing.  “No… no.  Como podria? Art!  C’mon!  Don’t do this!”  Lewis isn’t sure what to do, physically what he could do.  He can only think of the time his little sister had been choking, and what his Mamma had done.  “You won’t…. I won’t let you!”  He flips the unconscious figure onto his back and tilts Arthur’s head up, then hesitates.  His hands hover over Arthur’s chest briefly, before he shoves down. Not the rib cage, that’s a fatal mistake many make.  Just beneath, in the diaphragm area.  That was what his Mamma taught him.  

“Art, please.”  If he’s not careful, if he gets carried away, Lewis could easily break Arthur’s body.  “Come back. Damnit!  Open your eyes!  Breathe!” He adjusts Arthur’s head and touches his throat.  He can’t detect breaks, there’s no reason he shouldn’t be breathing.  “Arthur!”  He compresses the center of Arthur’s chest once, twice— then a breath!  Arthur sputters and coughs, his eyes snap open and he sees Lewis hovering over him, hands open.

“Geh… get away from me!”  Arthur throws himself back into the wall and slips away, hands pawing behind him for balance, security.  He tries to take another breath and buckles forward, groaning and holds his neck.  “Juz… why?”

“I… I didn’t mean to,” Lewis rattles, voice a mess of static and scratching.  “You wouldn’t, and… are you okay now?”  He shifts the bright embers in his skull onto Arthur, as the other retreats slowly along the wall.  “Are you….” He hesitates as Arthur stares at him, eyes muddled, unfocused, and full of fear. “Are you— there?”

Arthur holds his stare unblinking, eyes watering, throat aflame.  His expression intermixed with…. “What about you?” he whispers, voice broken.  “Are you… why did you do that?  Why?”  He whimpers as another gasp agitates his wounded throat, and massages his neck.  “Did you want to?  Why?”

Lewis shifts where he’s perched, sinking a bit into the floorboard.  He looks aside where a small yellow flame burns on the short carpet.  Where the cigarette had fallen.  It’s the cigarette he knows, but it could have as easily been him. It’s not though, but even the certainty feels like a lie.  “You… hurt me.”  He snuffs the flame out with his hand.  “I couldn’t brea— snap you out of it.”

Arthur opened his mouth, but cut off when Dimitri’s voice flew through, muffled by the thick walls of the van.  “He’s here?  Gawd. It‘s… fuzzy.  Nothing’s making sense.”  He hangs over his knees and holds his head, rocking slightly side to side. “What happened?  I can’t remember why I came….”  Lewis drifts forward reaching for Arthur, but the crumpled figure recoils, eyes wide.  Lewis keeps his distance.  

From outside, Dimitri’s voice was getting louder, more urgent when he realizes Lewis and Arthur are missing.  Mystery begins barking.  Thankfully the mutt had ducked out, Arthur didn’t want to think what Mystery might’ve done.  It was in the past though, he kept telling himself that.  Arthur was rocking again, arms bundled around his neck and holding his shoulder.

“D-Dimitri,” Lewis voice crackled, and faded out like a bad radio signal.  His skull became transparent as he glides to the vans front.  “He�� he can’t see me like this.”

Arthur hobbles away on his hand and knee, he waves a hand back at Lewis.  “I got him. I-I’ll….fuh.”  He hangs on the open door of the van, leaning far over when Dimitri rounded the side of the van.

“Arthur!  You’re okay?” Dimitri wobbled when Mystery ran by and bumped into his leg.  “I was supposed to find a big stick, but I couldn’t find any big enough.”  Dimitri rubbed at his eyes, and put an arm over Mystery.

“A big stick?” Arthur echoed.  “That doesn’t sound very PG.”  He winced, and pressed his metal hand to his head.  The joint connector in his shoulder ached in the cold, but at least it was good for something.  “I’m confused, can you tell me something?  Where are we?”  He edged forward on the bumper and scanned over the presented neighborhood, of what was visible at the edges of the frost coated lawns, glistening in the moons light. “This isn’t your neighborhood.”

At first Dimitri said nothing and only stares up at Arthur’s numb gaze, revaluating time and setting.  “Vivi said my brother could be dead.”

Arthur leaned away to hack dryly into his shoulder and took a moment to gather himself.  Dimitri could see red in Arthur’s eyes as he turned his face back. “Wha?  No, she’d never.”  Then Arthur went quiet and sank deeper over his knees like a melting candle.  He sat that way motionless for a long time, Mystery whining all the while as Arthur gathered himself.  A few times Arthur would twitch as if… coughing, and shuddered at the cold. Finally, he raised his body and said, “No.  She wouldn’t… say that.  We don’t know anything, and she would never have said such a thing.  Never.  Ever.” Arthur paused to clear the tightness in his throat, and coughed a bit more.  He pulled himself up and looked at Dimitri.  “Do you believe me?”

Dimitri didn’t respond.  He only stepped back and looked to the dog under his arm.

The driver side door creaked open.  “What I got so far,” Lewis began.  He pushed the sunglasses a little closer to his eyes, he carried one of the backpacks.  “Something’s gone wrong.  And Vivi’s where?”  Lewis handed a backpack to Dimitri, but kept his distance from Arthur as the folded figure watched him.  A sort of tension was at work between the two, and Dimitri couldn’t read it.  He only knew to stay away from it.

“We left her at the school,” Arthur explained.  He took the bag from Dimitri and fumbled with the straps, he couldn’t figure out how to get the top open and gave up.  “I thought, I think, I guess…. We left her at the school, and I was worried about Dimitri.  That was on my mind last.”  He pressed his cold palm to his eyes.  His head ached.  

Mystery adds a firm bark.  He was at fault too.  But it couldn’t be helped now.

Of course Vivi was not at the school.  Arthur and Lewis searched over the grounds and around the buildings side calling, searching for their team leader.  To no avail she was not there, but if she were she may have not wanted to be found.  There were only a few tracks in the frost layer that could be hers among the many shallow prints.  Arthur reclaimed his cracked flashlight, but that was the extent of the searches accomplishments.  

While the bipedal members searched, Mystery narrowed down the confusion of interwoven scents left on the ice.  Though the water and icy air pricking at his sensitive nose made tracking difficult, he did manage to pick up on Vivi.

The trail leading towards the gate out of the field.

“I think Mystery’s found her scent,” Arthur called. The dog’s movement was slow, frustratingly so.  “This is going to take too long.”

Mystery snuffed at that comment.  His toes were numb and the bandage on his paw was filthy, but he did try to hurry up the pace.  Arthur followed as the hound led along the chain link fence, towards an open gate facing the road.  The open floor of the gate that connected the field and the sidewalk was filled with the scratch marks made in the icy mud by dozens of feet, school children and visitors alike throughout the day.  It would have been easier to track Vivi if it had actually snowed.

“Mystery can maybe track up the road,” Arthur says, when Lewis and Dimitri catch up from across the field.  He shudders and rubs at his flesh arm, though it didn’t help. “But we’re gonna have to get in the van and crank up the heat.”

Lewis checked on the smaller boy that shadowed them. Despite his coat, Dimitri still had his arms plastered around his sides and his breath showed in thin lines, but the boy appeared bright eyed and alert.  “You can drop him off at the motel room, and Mystery and I will keep searching.”

“No,” Dimitri snapped.  He stopped in his tracks and glowers up at Lewis and Arthur when they turn to him.  “I wanna make sure Vivi’s okay too.”

“It’s super cold,” Arthur chattered, rubbing at his shoulders.  “You’re gonna catch pneumonia.  I’m not kidding this is serious, you can die!  We’re thinking about your wellbeing, D.”

“Then stick me in the van with the heater, and your guy’s blankets,” Dimitri reasoned.  He looked Lewis’ way, as Lewis adjusted his sunglasses and moved his sight to the road. “It’d take too much time for you to drive back here, then figure out where you left off.”  Another idea comes to his head.  A slim chance, it was farfetched but Dimitri was willing to try anything.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep this night, not until he had some answers. “What about we try that place where some of missing kids were last seen?  The Prime Rose district?”

“It’s a rumor,” Arthur explains.  He stepped aside, a little away from Lewis when the taller figure looked at him.  “Witnesses thought they saw some kids in that area, before they disappeared.”  Mystery stopped beyond the chain link fence on the sidewalk, and turned to look at Arthur.  Lewis and Dimitri followed the dog, but Arthur remained beside the gate. “If they are under the influence, should we really trust what’s been put in the reports?”

Lewis looked from Arthur, to Dimitri and Mystery’s expectant gazes.  “You weren’t… lying, either?” he said, slowly.  “It only alters the way people think, how they react.”  It was difficult to explain what he picked up from Arthur. Lewis moved away from the group and beckoned them with an arm as he walked down the sidewalk away from Mystery, to where Arthur left the van.  “If she hasn’t gone far, then we’ll see her on the way.”

As the hour got later the streets became deserted, with the curfew in full effect the stray car was a spontaneous appearance.  Lewis did note that most were law enforcement out on patrol, but he tended to agree with Dimitri that they were worthless.  The Prime Rose district was a few miles across the town, through smaller neighborhoods and the shopping/fast-food plazas; but no sign of Vivi.  She was on foot, but they only cruised methodically along the roads always straining to peer through the dull haze of night.  The fractured light contrasted every dark space in home and lawn, but never indication of a dark shadow skittering about.

“I’m sorry I ran away,” Dimitri mumbled.  He clutched Mystery to his chest, the folds of the blanket draped over his shoulders slumped around him and the dog.  “If I hadn’t… I should’ve known something wasn’t right.  You hadn’t….” He pressed his face into Mystery’s neck, and mumbled.

“You couldn’t have known.  You were upset,” Lewis assured.  He gave Dimitri’s head a little pat, then returned his focus to the passenger side window, searching through the sidewalks and brush.  “We’ll find Vivi, no problem.  Don’t fret, hermanito.” Lewis was still worried, but he’d hide it.

As the van took another turn, Arthur leaned far over in his seat to peer out the driver window and check any spaces in the lawns he might’ve missed.  “What do we do if we can’t find her?” he ponders aloud, and shifts his eyes back to Lewis. “Not that I’m doubting, well… I dunno if we will, this towns not big but—”

“You take Dimitri back to the motel, and I’ll keep searching,” Lewis rasped.  “But it’s too cold for her to be out.”

“I’m not going back to the motel,” Dimitri urged again. “You guys are hopeless without me around.”

Lewis was about to contend with that assumption, but the van jarred to a near halt.  They were still moving if barely, and Arthur had leaned hard onto the steering wheel with his eyes fixed on something beyond the hood.  Lewis caught his spike of excite the instant before Arthur spat, “Found her.  There!”

“I need to borrow your bag for a second.”  He snatched the backpack away from Arthur’s side, and sprang out the passenger side door.  “Wait here,” he called, before slamming the door on the sudden swell of frigid air.

They had arrived on the road beside the Prime District, the park on the edge of the town.  It wasn’t a large park, but it was up against the edge of the woods with a brick wall that stood around the freshly trimmed landscape and the wild grove beyond.  A stone path cut through the lawn, leading to a gazeebo built on one side of the park. The base was white stone, and contrasted with the dark shade of a figure standing among the shimmering white frost, back presented to Lewis.  

As Lewis neared Vivi, he slowed his stride cautious if she could anticipate his appearance or of what to expect.  She still had a backpack, he saw.  If she did not appreciate his interference, Lewis would not fight.  “Vivi?”

She edged around to check the voice.  “LewLew, you’re up,” she hummed.  “Were you just stunned?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, and cut the distance between them by two strides.  No sudden movements; smooth, gliding motion.  “What’re looking at?”  Lewis kept track of the dark figure he was now near, but shifts his attention beyond her and sought out across the park.  “Is that…?”

“I thought about what Dimitri said, and it made sense,” she spoke.  She leaned on the edge of the gazeebos wall and watched the small figure wandering across day old frost, the graceful steps almost like a dance.  “There was something else… but I can’t remember.  I try.”

“Are you following her?” he asked.  Lewis felt cold, legitimately cold to the core.  The girl couldn’t be more than six, and she was out here in pajamas and no shoes.

“I’m thinking some kind of nymph or sprite. If they call children out to the woods, then it spirits them away… or something like that.  It has a hold of— What are you doing?”  Vivi spun around when Lewis set down the backpack, and moved the last few feet toward her.  Lewis unzipped the top of his jacket.  “Lew?”

“Here.”  Lewis reached a hand into his coat and brought forth the heart locket.  Vivi was backing away from the gazeebo and toward the open landscape, but Lewis swept a hand out and caught her around the backside. “Listen to my voice.  Focus…” he said, as he opened his hand to allow the glimmering locket to hover freely above Vivi.  Lewis brought his hand down and gently lay his fingers over her brow. “And come back to me.  I know you’re still there.  Romper el atascamiento que engaña a su mente.” He lightly touched Vivi’s eyes and raised his hand back.  “Preservarlo que honra a nuestro contrato.”

Translucent flames coughed out at his jacket sleeve as he drew his hand back and tightened his fist, as if drawing a thread from the bluenettes mind.  His appearance lost solidity, skull flashed through the illusion, bleached bone and eyes baleful in the blue moonlight.  Lewis maintains the illusion with good effort and stares over the rim of his sunglasses, at Vivi’s shimmering eyes.  “No… Vi. Too far.”  The clenched fist quivers, the embers in his eyes sockets smolder, brighten.  “Not there…. Don’t look, Vi.”  Lewis snaps his hand out catching the suspended locket and brought it to his chest. “I can’t… let…..”  Lewis’ eye sockets go dark behind the thick shades he hides behind.  He lowers his head and tightens his hold on the locket at his chest.  Everything is dark and cold again.  Lost.

Vivi goes limp, her eyes flutter shut as she falls back supported only by Lewis’ hand.  It took a second for her to get her bearings and come to.  “Lew… Lewis?” she says.  Lewis doesn’t answer, but flinches at her voice and cradles the softly pulsing heart at his chest.  “What have you done?” she whispers.

“Nothing.”  Only then did Lewis raise his face to meet her gaze.  “I took a risk.  Do you…?” He couldn’t ask.  If he asked, it might trigger something.  He couldn’t hurt her, never.  “What you were doing last?”  He eased Vivi onto her feet, but kept a hand on her shoulder in case she needed support.

Vivi raised a hand to her head.  “What… am I doing?” she murmured.  Vivi noted Lewis adjusting his jacket, and quickly concealing his locket.

“Can you tell me… why you’re here?”  Lewis stooped to lift up the bag.  He looked past Vivi, seeking the area the girl had wandered off into.  They needed to follow, get her back.

“Harvest moon.”  To Lewis perplexed stare, she repeated.  “Harvest moon.  That’s what I looked up.  The disappearances correlate with a Harvest moon, not every month but…. That’s the pattern. I was getting close—” She stopped when the rough pants and heavy foots falls crunched through the frost, suddenly upon them.  “Art!”

Arthur was panting, though the distance he sprinted across the park was relatively short.  He skids to a halt a few feet away from the two, his rapid breath coming in a thick mist startled Lewis back a fraction from Vivi.  “I thought that,” Arthur stammered, eyes darting between Vivi and Lewis. “Is she okay?”

“Of course she’s okay!” Lewis hissed.  He couldn’t blame Arthur, but his interruption was ill timed.  He wasn’t up to this.

Vivi darted forward grabbing Lewis’ arm, and caught Arthur by his good shoulder.  “No time to explain,” she says, and pushes Arthur away.  “Where’s Dimitri?”

“Left in the van?” Lewis presumed, answered.

“Mystery’s with him?”  To Vivi’s question Arthur nods; for the brief time was too stunned to speak, pulling feverishly at Vivi’s grip.  She hadn’t noticed.  Vivi pulls down her backpack and slips out the laptop, Arthur takes it when she pushes it into his hands and she points toward the awaiting van on the road, engine still idling in its rhythmic whirr.  “We’ll have to leave him.  Mystery will know what to do.  Go tell him.” She pushed Arthur away, and he took off running.  “Grab the flashlights and some batteries!”  Once Arthur was on his way, Vivi slung her backpack onto her shoulders and removed her hand from Lewis arm.  She stepped toward the brick wall at the backside of the park, pressing her hands together as she took deep breaths, white mist flashed at her lips.  “I remember…” she began, hands fidgeting into an awkward clasp.  “I came here to wait.  I know I was watching, I knew what would happen and I did nothing.”

Lewis followed after Vivi and caught shoulders, he spun her to face him.  “We’ll make this right,” he hummed.  “We’ll find them.  We’ll figure this out.”

“It’s not right,” she murmured.  Vivi pulled her hands to her chest, and Lewis wrapped her up in his arms.  “We were off guard.  Lewis… Lew. Did you do something…?  To me?”

“No.  I would never,” he said, voice wispy.  “I had to… dissolve its hold on you.  It was a tricky, pulling you away.  I couldn’t…I don’t want to lose you again, like that.”

“You wouldn’t lose me,” she said.  Vivi wrapped her arms up around his chest and held him.  The jacket felt frayed and worn, brittle around his tenuous shape.  Air seemed to go right through Lewis, as if he absorbed the ice under his boots and amplified the sensation.  That wasn’t right.  “Lew,” Vivi began.  “Are you—?”

“Arth’us gonna be back,” he said, and tightened his arms around her one more time before he let go and moved away.  “She was barefoot.  The little girl.  I’m worried.” Vivi didn’t respond, she only looped her arms around her chest.

The idling roll of the engine cut off, and a short time after a streak of yellow light was zipping across the silver field.  Once Arthur caught up, Lewis and Vivi hurried the remainder of the way to the brick wall.  It wasn’t a tall wall, just a wall built to segregate nature from order. The ground beyond it was soft and earthy, coated in leaves and full of brittle mulch dusted with glitter.  The high tangle of the tree canopy blotted out much of the moonlight in thick clumps above, mostly due to the overgrown bundles of vines that wrapped about and crisscrossed all throughout the branches. There were large spaces in the coppices where one tree had fallen and the sky drenched the earth in blue-silver.

“We almost don’t need the flashlight,” Arthur commented, as Vivi clicked hers on.  He didn’t like being out the way they were, without Mystery.  And it was cold.  It was curcial to find the kid and get her back asap, but it was very-very-VERY cold. “Some tracks,” he muttered, turning his torch down.  “Here, and here.”  The ground had a shallow coating of the frost, and in the small wood clearing they moved through, the disturbance on the white cover was most noticeable with the contrast of dark soil.  “Looks fresh. Not an animal.  Too cold anyway.”  He checked Lewis as the ghost drifts over, the figure suspended a full three feet above the earth.  When Lewis is too close, Arthur elects to continue on his own and follow the trail. “Small tracks,” he mutters, as he moves. He tucks himself down under his backpack, seeking some small shelter from the lazy breeze probing through the trees.

Vivi caught up with Lewis and knelt near him, touching the edges of the dirt clumps.  She brought a hand to her mouth in silent anguish as she stood, and Lewis began to reach a hand out for her.  But Vivi darted away, following the path Arthur was on.  “We should be able to catch up with her.”  

Lewis drifts sideways watching her go.  Vivi may have doubted him.  Or, Lewis feared to dwell if he had not done right?  There had to have been another way, but he had panicked. He did that.  Later he would ask, but if it involved her memories… he couldn’t bear that teetering around that subject.

The trail was uphill, a mild ascent and no great difficultly for the surviving members.  Progress was slow going, as they managed the trail and picked over the visible marks in the soil, carefully discerning the path before moving on it.  They couldn’t afford to get lost.  Lewis drifted ahead, able to identify easily where soil was disturbed without spoiling the delicate crust layer himself.

“How is it kids move so fast when you’re not watching them?” Arthur grumbled, at one point.  He kept close to Vivi’s side, his torch flashing with a faulty bulb whenever he let his movements become too erratic. “It didn’t take me that long to gather the supplies.”

“Idunno,” Lewis responds.  He tipped forward, checking the texture of loosened earth scattered on a patch of ice.  “The pacing looks like she was running.  He swung himself upright, and skimmed beneath the canopy with his ember eyes as he glides, low.  The assumption made his bones clatter, but he could…. theoretically.  Nothing was stopping him, nothing physical anyway. But… somehow he couldn’t bring himself to move on the whim.  Terrible.  Ghastly! The only factor holding him back was his irrational fear.  What if it was his own sister?  What then?  He would just… hover, down here, and never take the incentive.  How could he—

Lewis jarred when a hand touched his arm.  A few wisps of fire popped off his neck and hair as Vivi mirrored his jarred movement, with a cringe of her own.  Arthur was ahead for once; the cold made him anxious, impulsive, maybe impulsive.  It wasn’t fair.    

“Hey,” Vivi said, softly.  She tugged on his jacket sleeve, gathering Lewis’ attention.  “We’re making good time.  It’ll be okay.”  She held his stare for a short time.  She was too understanding at times.  She squeezed his sleeve a little tighter.  “You’ll see.” Then, Vivi ducked off on the path becoming steadily clearer before them.

That didn’t help.  If anything, it made Lewis feel worse.  She shouldn’t sympathize, shouldn’t understand this ‘complication’ of his.  There was no reason he couldn’t go find that girl, cold, lost somewhere in these woods. No reason.  Still, he couldn’t bring himself to take the initiative.  It was like he was tied to the earth and it wasn’t fair, not to her.  He had no limitations, they were stolen from him, all of them.  He had no excuses.

Lewis glides onward, carefully sifting through the marks in the soil.  Hoping beyond rational that somehow in their delayed, lost search; somehow, they would catch up with the forests next victim before they found the culprit.

[welcome-to-the-whumpfest]

The Meeting Room

Prologue   /   Part 1   /   Part 2   /   Part 3

__________________________________

How long has it been? One, two months? Angel doesn’t know. He hasn’t been outside the attic in God knows how long! He’s desperate for a hint of light, but not desperate enough that he would beg for it. No. He has stayed strong, stronger than they expected. He hasn’t broke and has no plan to. Other than Sir and Mistress, Angel hasn’t seen another soul since his arrival at this disgusting house. He’s so utterly sick of this place, he’d do anything to get out.

Well, almost anything.

The world shifts a tad when Sir enters the attic. He has that usual gleam in his eye, like he knows something Angel doesn’t. Sir loves feeling like he’s in control. It excites him. He feels powerful. However, it’s times like these that he’s at his weakness. His mind isn’t focusing on his proximity to Angel or the fact that he’s left a certain part of his body too close to Angel, completely unprotected. Unfortunately for Sir, Angel’s never one to pass up on an opportunity to take a shot at his captor.

Sir is too careless with his movements as he reaches towards Angel’s wrists – which are manacled above his head while he sits on the ground. A surprised and pained groan escapes Sir as Angel grips his chains lifting himself off the floor with enough momentum to kick his captor directly between his legs. Frustratingly, he’s lost so much strength, it doesn’t have the desired effect. No severe damage is done, but that doesn’t mean it is painless. 

Retaliating ragefully, Sir grips his firefly by his hair, yanking his neck back, exposing it. Then he shoots some magic into his prisoner’s collar, tightening it. Angel doesn’t care. It was bound to happen anyway. Good behavior doesn’t get rewarded; only bad behavior gets a reaction. Angel had tested it out. After getting bored, the crafty prisoner decided to see if being good – not attacking Sir when he put his guard down – would end up with a positive aftermath. He was wrong. Sir only seemed to enjoy hurting his firefly.

Angel doesn’t know why he expected anything different from a psychopath.

As his brain starts short-circuiting due to lack of air, Angel closes his eyes. He has been choked and strangled so many times after Sir discovered his dislike of neck touching. It is getting old. Angel is more fed up with his captor then the other way around, which he can’t seem to understand. It is the same thing every day: beat, choke, retaliate, beat. What was so exciting about that? Angel couldn’t understand it.

Angel’s eyes suddenly open. This isn’t right! He’s never been strangled this long before. Is-is Sir going to- to kill him? His face is turning blue due to lack of oxygen. Wait, when did he get out of the manacles? There’s something pressing into him. Oh, he’s being carried. The attic’s entrance… ‘s getting… clos… er…

*****

When Angel wakes up, he’s muzzled. Muzzled for crying out loud! The first thing he registers other than the harsh straps of the muzzle squeezing against his skin, is the muffled voices. Unfamiliar voices. A sliver of hope arises in his chest. Maybe, he can get out! The wish instantly vanishes when he makes out the chains around his wrists that are connected to a table where Sir is sitting in a chair above him. Ignoring the rattling of chains above him as he rubs his eyes, Angel blinks a few times before his blurry vision returns to normal. The room is vast with expensive furniture, a chandelier, and divine pictures. There are candles littered everywhere giving the room a dreamlike illumination. Still, it’s uncomfortable. It’s clear this is not Sir and Mistress’s house. Angel presses a palm to the ground to push himself up but stops abruptly when he feels the texture underneath his hand.

It’s a rug!

He hasn’t felt anything soft in so long. When the muffled voices start transforming into words, Angel knows his senses are finally coming back. That means it’s time to fight. Time to form a plan. Time to escape, and if that’s not possible, make Sir as miserable as possible.

It’s time to work.

“Sir you really must see the Collector’s toy. It’s the most gorgeous little thing I’ve ever seen!” A woman with a lavish, scarlet gown speaks with a pleasant air to Sir.

“So, I’ve heard.” Sir smiles that smile Angel knows all too well. “One moment.” Once the woman walks to the opposite side of the room (which is cluttered with important looking men in suits and women in gowns) Sir focuses his attention on his firefly, who is finally awake, looking as perfect as ever on the gorgeous rug beneath him. “Aren’t you a beauty.” Sir says under his breath, mostly to himself. Then his voice reaches his usual tone, “Now, little firefly, I’m going to leave momentarily, so don’t cause any harm until I come back.”

Angel makes sure not to give away any emotion or idea lingering in his eyes at this news. He doesn’t nod; he just stares at his captor expectantly. Every fiber of his being hates this muzzle, these chains, and sitting on the floor. It’s humiliating, especially in front of all these people who think they are worth so much more than he is.

He doesn’t think like a slave, pet, or whatever these revolting people think he should be. The only thought on his mind is escape. If he has to take down everyone in this room with him, he will in a heartbeat.

When Sir leaves, Angel remains chained to the table above him. Unsure if he should stand up or continue to observe the room from here, Angel notices something appalling. He’s not the only one in chains.

There are other individuals in muzzles, chained to their captors or tables above them. Angel isn’t having any of this, but he must be patient and careful in escaping. Suddenly, all of the people in formal attire, gather to the far end of the room. They seem to be looking at something. A large, burly man (a bit round in Angel’s opinion) appears to be the center of attention. His voice sounds like a king’s, able to control a room with a single word.

The man seems to be enjoying the attention; he wears a blue, velvet suit with a dark navy bowtie. He reeks of wealth. Everyone is gossiping about the man, and Angel is able to pick out his name, or at least what he’s called: The Collector. Nothing good can come of a title like that.

Sneakily, Angel slowly raises an arm to his muzzle. There’s a buckle he can undo easily enough. What? Did Sir expect him to obediently keep it on? That man is duller than he thought, but if he took it off, he’d still have the chains to deal with. More importantly, the collar around his neck. That’s when Angel sees it – on the floor just a little ways ahead of him – a bobby pin.

For once in his life, Angel is grateful for growing up on the street. He could pick the lock on his collar in his sleep. Easy! The chains may not be so easy; it would be too noisy. He’d have to come up with another idea for that.

As he crawls forward, at an agonizingly slow pace to reach the pin, he glances up making out what the Collector is showing off. Angel wants to throw up! Cornered in the room is a boy around his own age. He has thick, brown hair, which he is purposely pushing over his face in a pathetic attempt to hide. Angel can see him shivering from the opposite side of the room. Everything about this is so wrong!

Snatching the bobby pin, Angel leans back to hear the Collector’s voice over the whispering crowd. He’s talking to the boy. “Look up. Let them see your pretty face.” Of course, Angel can’t see his face from where he’s sitting on the ground, but he can already imagine the fearful look the poor boy must be giving. He’s never seen anyone shake that badly.

That means the boy… he’s broken.

Angel is really going to throw up! Trying to rip his thought away from the unfortunate boy, he starts fiddling with the pin as unassumingly as possible. The collar will have to be the first thing to go.

As the crowd packs together a bit tighter to get a better look, some of the audience members glance around at the other muzzled individuals. Now that there is no line to look around, a few of the wealthy stray and begin walking around. One man in particular with dark skin and nearly black eyes is coming far too close to Angel’s location. A tighter grip of uneasiness sickens his stomach. Angel looks down at the ground, slowly drawing nearer to the table and hiding the collar behind him - hoping that no one will notice its absence. If he can pick lock the chains from the table, he might have a chance.

But he’s running out of time!

The man is gradually nearing him, Angel quickly works on the chains attached to the table. A faint “clinking” sounds from the right one. Now for the left –

“Well aren’t you a mischievous one?” The dark man is now directly before Angel; he’s crouching down to get a better look. Stealthily holding the right chain to the table, he hopes the man won’t notice that it’s no longer attached. Slim chance of that. “You’re certainly a beautiful little thing, aren’t ya? Too bad Sir isn’t selling ya. I’d pay a pretty price for your stunning eyes alone.” Angel keeps his eyes away from the man – since that’s what the other muzzled ones do – and uses his muscle memory to try and unlock the left chain. He almost has it; he just needs to keep this man’s attention long enough. That isn’t a terribly difficult task seeing as though the man hasn’t stopped talking and is assumed to be a chatterbox. Wealthy people always are. “Who am I kidding, even me with all my money, couldn’t afford ya.” Reaching an arm out, the man pets Angel’s black waves with a heavy hand. Angel has to hold his breath to keep his hate out of his expression.

The Collector has stopped talking in the distance and the crowd has grown louder. As their volume rises, a sense of urgency sinks into Angel’s forcedly calm hands. The man is growing closer and closer to him. He can feel his warm breath tickle his eyelashes; he stinks of wine and expensive cologne.

The next events happen in the blink of an eye. Swiftly and in one motion, Angel frees his left wrist, wraps both the chains around the man’s neck, and brings them against his head – attempting to unbuckle his muzzle. He can only hope that no one notices the choking noises that the man is making; luckily for him, the man is far too surprised to fight being put in this hold, and now he’s securely tied still. Now, if only Angel’s can get his Advances to work – they have been suppressed for so long that it is a struggle to reawaken them – escaping would be so much simpler.

Standing up now, Angel eyes the nearest door. He can reach it! Taking a few steps forward, he feels the man before him start to grow heavy and more frantic. Thrashing about, the man’s long arm manages to snag the side of the table making a loud sound. At this, a few audience members turn.

Then. The room explodes with noise.