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bonnymori · 3 years

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𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Word count: 2760+ (i'll try to keep bigger lengths such as this one!)

Synopsis: You meet a new classmate who's working along Nanami, you think he's fun to be around, it stands the same to him about you. Later, feelings unravel.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Itadori Yuuji x gn!reader (2) FLUFF, TONS OF FLUFF - and some comfort (3) With the small participation of... Ino Takuma!! I really like him too, that's why <33333 (4) This is pretty platonic, but also not? (5) Ending turned sorta cliché... but I liked it u.u

A/N: This boy made me run rampant... to fhe point it's not single attraction anymore I just wish him happiness (smh if only my parents knew...) also next post will be Toji's fic pt. 2! Y'all see the first part is almost reaching 100 kudos????? I'M SO HAPPY EHSODJWKDKSJD- thanks for all the new followers and the support!! <33

Ever since his fake death, Itadori has been training alone with the help of Gojo - and now, he works along a freshly new face, who belongs to a senior, founds out ex-salaryman named Nanami Kento. He's far a thousand times more strict than Gojo. Itadori doesn't really likes the change, because Nanami is a person he can't get along. This whole guy's appearance scream "work 4 life"; he has proved different, now he screams "work is shit - but I gotta do it because others won't".

They've just finished cleansing the outside of a movie theater off a few curses, when Itadori hears shouting from far behind them. Two figures approach, waving excessively. He quickly picks on Nanami's tired sigh beside him.

"Nanami! We figured out you'd be here! Our mission has been finished and we wanted to catch up to have lunch together!" A male clad in a full black outfit shouts, he has brown hair and a beanie on top of his head, looking quite content.

The other person simply trots next to him in silence, approaching with a friendly smile. They notice Itadori faster than the male, smile widening and quickly waving hello, suddenly eager to reach up to them. The gesture makes the pink haired boy perk up, curious to why the other person looked so joyful. His question is easily answered, when they tug on the man's sleeve and motion to him.

"Ino, we have a third buddy!" The dude looks at him with widened eyes. "So nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N! It's great to see new faces around!"

Itadori smiles at your energy, knowing already he would click with you very well.

"I'm Ino Takuma, sorry for not noticing you before! Your uniform looks cool." Itadori exchanges a few compliments with Ino, before the man turns to talk with Nanami, leaving him and you together.

"Yes! I'm Sukuna's vessel, Itadori Yuuji-desu! My type of woman is Jenn-"

You turn to him. "So, are you a first year?"

"Geh? Weren't you dead though?!"

"I was!- I am!- Please keep secret."

"Okay!"

"Ahem." Nanami coughs, drawing attention. "I requested you two to not come after me today. Itadori here is the reason why."

"That's no problem, we're very capable of keeping secrets." You threw your arm over Itadori's shoulder, him nodding along with you.

"Oh really, then remember to keep quiet about it. I'll let this slide." The group of students nervously at Nanami's intimidating tone. "But, I'll get to have my break alone."

"Gah!" Ino exclaimed, watching Nanami walk away; he also left the responsability of taking care of Itadori for you two, leaving without a word. "It really had to be today, when Nanami would take us to his favorite bakery..."

"Crybaby." You teased. "Itadori here can't go outside where anyone can see him, he's dead. So, we were to order food either way because he shouldn't be left out."

"Augh okay, it would be unfair."

"So, where are you staying Itadori?"

"At Gojo's state!"

"Whoa, I've never been there before." Ino commented, waiting as you sent a message to Ijichi to pick them up.

"He's my teacher, a very cool one!"

"I imagine! Ooookay, once we get there I'll get the food."

Itadori felt as his chest would burst of excitement, finally there was people around him again, he couldn't be less happy about it.

"Sharing is caring!"

Itadori laughed as you wrestled with Takuma for some fries, netflix long forgotten in the background, as watching the banter was way more entertaining. Most of the time, Ino rambled a lot about Nanami, while he rambled a lot about Gojo. The guy even showed him the cool scar under his beanie. He felt kinda upset after explaining the exchange was just temporary, his stay under Nanami's wing wasn't decisive, and therefore, he was more like a classmate than a partner.

Itadori also learned a lot about you. He was surprised to find out that you, although energetic, was the one to speak the lesser in conversations. His surprisement grew even bigger when you told him you're a exchange student from Kyoto, arriving Tokyo about the same month as him - thankfully, you were to say for good.

Conversations flowed easily in the air, until a voice from the doorway barged in.

"Yuuji-kun! Don't forget about your lessons! Hi kids! Bye kids!" Gojo said playfully, throwing the familiar punching bear to Itadori before leaving.

"What's this thing?" Ino asked.

"It's to help me control my cursed energy. So while I watch the movies, if I don't charge it with cursed energy it punches me square in the face. I thought I had mastered this thing already, but he insist I keep training with it." Itadori grumbles.

"At least it's cute." You commented, taking a sip of your drink.

"Until it punches you in your face without warning!" The pink haired boy barks.

The talks died down, the three of you eating quietly when another movie is played on the screen. Itadori didn't bother reading the title, it was a plain one about a zombie apocalypse that got him extremely bored, yet he kept watching still so the plushie didn't punch him in the face again; he's been keeping a record since all his last cursed energy training lessons were a sucess to this day. When his head started nodding and eyelids dropping Itadori can't remember well, about fourty five minutes of movie perhaps? Make it fifty, the second slumber took over his body completely.

When he awoke once again, it was near midnight, the clock on the wall told him so. He also noticed a soft and warm surface supporting his head, figures, it's your shoulder he's resting into, he feels an arm around his own shoulders and your cheek placed upon his hair.

"Hey, it's late." You immediately notices he's awake, calling out softly. "You should sleep on your room, or something, better to your spine."

He chuckles when you poke his side. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm surprised, you just met me today, and now is sleeping on my shoulder."

"I'm not, that happens often to me."

"Sleeping on people's shoulders?"

"No! Making friends quickly." Itadori likes your gentle warmth, your hug, everything makes him feel at home. "I met two more people before you for two weeks, but they can't see me, because I'm dead."

"So I'll keep you company, that's my new mission."

His eyes widen at that, a oh so little blush covering the tip of his ears.

"For how many time I slept anyway?" He asks.

"About two- no, three hours. You missed two movies, and this one is about to end."

"And you stayed here the whole time?" He motions to your shoulder.

"Yep. That reminds me I gotta pee."

Itadori grumbles, but quickly lifts himself off you, respecting your needs. That gives him some time to look around, he notices Ino is gone, and the plushie sits quietly at the other side of the couch, unmoving.

"Y/N! How did you manage to make it quiet down?" He's beyond bafflet.

"...que."

"What!"

"I said!" You arrive quickly at the doorframe, hands still wet from when you washed them. "I used my innate technique."

"Oh! How is it like?"

"It's kinda funny, gimme a moment." You left to wipe off your hands, coming back in a second. "So, just like Shoko, I produce reverse curse energy, but it's quite different than hers, I can't heal people. That's why we often call it positive energy instead. I can use it to soothe off negative energy, so the bear has no cursed energy right now."

"How does it works on people?" He felt very curious about everything, asking away like a kid.

"Since everyone has negative energy, it just makes you sleepy really. But when it comes to curses it's really practical, I can either weaken it or, if the curse is like grade three or four, I can slap them off existence completely by wiping all their energy." You were naturally proud of having a such versatile power, your own energy swirling with pride around you.

"That sounds amazing! Is it why I fell asleep though?"

"Nah, only if I did it on purpose. I guess you were just tired, hope you don't mind I decided to let you rest today."

"No way, it was a good nap."

You nodded. "By the way, Ino left to attend to a drinking party, he paid for our food."

"Drinking? Is he old?"

"Yeah, he's twenty." You chuckled, already expecting that kind of reaction.

"No way! He looks young just like us!"

"That's totally my reaction after I learned he's twenty!"

After that day, you started visiting Itadori weekly to daily, after exchanging numbers he made a little group with you and Ino, naming it the "Nanami trio". But really, he exchanges more texts with you in private, be them memes, cool images he wish to share, etcetera. Although, Ino wasn't left excluded, he ofter brough his xbox to connect to Itadori's tv room and you all would spend hours playing together; he just didn't spend much time with both of you as much. And that was okay.

For a few days, your connection with Itadori died down when he didn't reply to your texts. They would remain unread for some time, the longest being half a day, until he would spam apologies then move on with the topic. That became a routine until one day when you came over to check on Itadori unnanounced, needin to ease off your worries about the boy, only to find him sobbing in the middle of a hallway, staring ahead and beyond, his back to you.

"Ita-?"

"Egh!" Startled, he scrambled to wipe his eyes, turning to you. "H-hey, um, hi."

"What happened?"

"I- he-" His eyes didn't met yours, knuckles white in a death grip. You notice he has a few bandages thrown over his face and arms. The way his shoulders are drawn, as if he wants to shrink into himself is something you've experienced before.

"Something hard to talk about?"

He nods almost immediately, head still facing down.

"It's alright, come with me." You reach for his hands, grimacing slightly when his forceful grip is now on your hand, yet you don't comment on it. He follows you through the state wordlessly.

You two stop on the same tv room, sitting down on the couch. You then guide his head to your shoulder, gently massaging his scalp with the free hand.

"It's alright."

Those two words are chanted like a prayer for the next half hour, at some point, Itadori twisted his body towards yours and unknowingly caged you between him and the sofa arm. He embraced you with a force you didn't have in you, like he didn't want to lose one another. Painful or not, not a muscle moved on your body. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Thirty minutes passed like seconds, you peered down only to find the boy confortably napping against your bosom; at some point you just became the cold side of the pillow to him. That's alright. It brings you joy to be the mom friend anyways. So you decided to join the sleepland aswell, arms still secured around his shoulders and the back of his head.

It feels like the nap hasn't been long, though, because you can feel Itadori's grip loosening and therefore, you're awake.

"Sorry if I broke any bones, in advance."

"Wow, and you only warn me now."

He laughs at your comeback, hands still secured around your waist.

"I'm surprised you let me uh, cuddle you for comfort - and sleep. I don't understand it? You just make me sleepy." He rambled, keeping eye contact with you while his head still rests on your chest.

"That's a piece of cake when you have younger siblings who seek for you every night they get a nightmare."

"Does that mean I can come to you again if I have a nightmare?" There it is, his togepi-kirby cutesy face.

"Are you four?"

"That's mean!" Itadori blushed, squeezing you on his arms. "I like the contact. It puts me at ease."

"Mm, do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped. "No, not really."

Your peach haired friend remained silent, and so did you. It seems he doesn't intend in letting you go soon, or he just really forgot to mention it. It gives them time to think, your younger sisted used to do that sometimes, back in Kyoto.

"Y/N, wanna watch anything?"

"Sure, have you watched Parasyte before?"

"No, let's give it a try then!" Itadori glances at the remote, then back at you - making you confused over his hesitation to move. He notices you noticed it, chuckling nervously. "To be honest, I don't wanna let go."

"It's hurting my back."

"SORRY I'M SORRY!" He jumped away from you like a cat would jolt away from a cucumber, making you snicker.

"It's okay, I just wanted to change positions."

And to tease you, but he didn't need to know that part.

He glared at you with a small pout, typing the initials of Parasyte on the search bar. Outside his line of vision, you were grinning like a idiot, his sweeteness took a tow on you. All the people of Tokyo you met really held a way different spirit from your classmates in Kyoto, Itadori being the nicest of all. It's surprising him being Sukuna's vessel to begin with; being honest, you felt drawn by it.

"Y/N, it's startiiiiing." He cut your daydreaming short, slumping on your side and propping his head on your shoulder.

"This again?" You throw an arm around his shoulders, very much like the first time he cuddled himself on you.

"Don't blame me, you're the one who wanted to change positions. Guess I'll just make some alterations since I'm awake this time!" One of his arms went behind your back and circled your waist, hand resting at your hip.

"It's definely different, since the other time you drooled on me."

"Hhgh, okay okay! Let me enjoy this." For perhaps the actual first time, you're able to watch without exchanging words with one another.

And this time, it's you who's head loll to the side, nose buried on his soft rose perfumed hair. Itadori doesn't comment on it yet, his free hand moves under your legs to lift your whole body up efortlessly when he senses you have fallen asleep.

"I remember you said it's bad for my spine, I wouldn't mind it... yours however."

The boy makes a beeline to the guest room, he sighs when there is no choice but open the door with his foot. Inside, he places you carefully in the soft bed.

Before he could leave, a hand reaches up for his sleeve.

"Itadori," He turned, looking at you. "Make me company?"

He giggles softly - you think it sounds like a highschool girl. "You should start calling me by my first name!" Itadori rambles as he climbs on the bed, arms wrapping around your waist in a motion you're familiar with.

"Yuuji, I'm tired, let me sleep."

"But I wanna talk more..." He pouts. "Also, are we, um, dating?"

You wriggle around, bringing his head down to peck on his forehead, teasing. "Correction, I want to date you."

"Uh, oh." A blush coats his face so quickly, you'd say someone dumped a bucket of red paint on his face.

"Is that a no?"

"No!"

"So it is a no."

"Christ, will you stop teasing for a second, I'm trying to talk here." He makes an angry version of his togepi-kirby face, you can't help but grin.

"You amuse me, but okay. I'll do it for you."

"Thanks." He blinks, the blush slowly fading away. "You know, I lied, not about the contact, I like the contact nonetheless-"

His hand moves to play with yours, such as tapping his tips against yours, or meassuring the palms.

"-it's you who brings me comfort."

It's also your turn to blush, that line was seriously charming.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, we're dating now." You respond, a little eagerly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

This is the best person I could ask for, Itadori thinks, keeping his eyes open as yours shut during the kiss, whom I won't change for anything else in this world.

When you both separate, Itadori feels drowsy and sleepy. His face fits perfectly on your shoulder as always.

"Goodnight, my favorite person."

#itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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ahlis-xiv · 3 years

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journal 50.4

G’raha sat alone, semi-hunched over a piece of parchment as he worked. Although he did not show it, the drafting he ambitiously began was nothing short of a place between fascinating and downright tediousness. The solution to tempering that nestled within his mind and finding a proper way to convey it into some sort of physicality that others could understand took time and a level of focus that brought him back to his Studium days.

He did not mind the effort, really, yet part of him couldn’t help but feel he could be applying himself to something else...namely figuring out why his dear friend decided to depart in such a hurry without so much as a word.

G’raha sighed, and scratched out part of the formulae he attempted to use as a proper proof. It wasn’t correct or, rather, not good enough, and he knew it: it almost felt like he had to somehow invent a whole new notation and he was second guessing every attempt. That, he knew, was as strong a sign as any that he needed a break.

Abandoning his work for the more welcoming sight above Mor Dhona proper, he took to his usual perch and leaned over the ledge to watch the activity below. Ever since he arrived there—since waking up, really—G’raha found the habit of people-watching a welcome one when it came to clearing his head. It had also been an old habit as well from his time as the Exarch. It was difficult at times to not be reminded of it when he went there to be alone--not that it troubled him, but rather his thoughts inevitably wandered to those he had to let go. To old friends and, naturally, to her.

What would Lyna think, he wondered. Of everything? Despite assurances, both given and told to own self, he knew it was a question not quite answerable. He was unfettered, free—free to live the life he wished. A second chance. Yet something gnawed away at his heart that only grew in the wake of what occurred in Ala Mhigo. And the Warrior of Light was nowhere in sight.

He didn’t wish to admit it, but that this point most of all prickled his thoughts. She had been wounded in the confrontation: not severely but enough to warrant considerable healing, namely for her arms. She berated herself for not properly handling the situation, that it was foolish to not deal with Fandaniel and his summoning there and then somehow. When the dust settled with wounds seen to and mended, she slipped away and out of his reach.

G’raha’s hands clasped together in front of him, fretting as his anxiety swelled. Ahlis said many things in the aftermath at the menagerie; much of which he knew was said in a fury he rarely witnessed. He also knew he ought to not dwell on it, as it was not directed towards him—but it felt personal, watching the anger and the walls that suddenly erected around her, forbidding his approach. Surely she knew, she must’ve known that he cared—that they all cared? G’raha understood what it meant to seek solace, to lick one’s wounds after a poor bout in battle, yet to shut him out? Why?

He huffed a frustrated growl, and pouted to himself. This is not about you, G’raha, his more sensible self spoke in his mind. It did little to help when he knew naught what to do with his...feelings, with no soul to utter them to. For the moment, all he had in certainty, was himself.

Looking above to the darkening sky, stars were beginning to sparkle in the deep blue, the gloom weak and unable to hinder their shine. He hoped that wherever Ahlis was, and however she felt, that her safety was sure and her healing swift.

---

Ahlis suddenly grasped the pillow within her bare arms as a sneeze escaped her nose and immediately regretted it.

“Bless you, dearest,” Aymeric spoke above her, his hands gently working her back’s aches and pains into a soothing massage.

“Augh, no,” she said, voice muffled by soft cotton where she shoved her face into it. The great debate of whether she should lift her head up or not kept her in place, lest she reveal a potentially not-so-graceful mess. “I think I ruined it.”

Wordlessly and only with a soft chuckle of amusement Aymeric rose to retrieve a handkerchief as if reading her mind in her current discomfort. When he returned Ahlis was already sitting up, the pillow still pressed to her face. He did not know how to assure her that there were far worse things that could ruin one’s bedding, but seeing the flushed look upon her face while she cleaned herself as discretely as possible encouraged him to say nothing.

“Are you feeling better?” Aymeric asked, once she seemed satisfied to show herself, the pillow and handkerchief no longer covering her face.

“Yes, thank you,” Ahlis spoke, relief entering her voice. “I am sorry, about this, though.” Her hands still held onto the pillow until he reached for it himself, lightly tossing it aside and back onto the bed.

“It is of no consequence. My home is yours, including the aforementioned pillow.”

That made Ahlis laugh, as he hoped it would, and Aymeric took this moment to join her again, sitting side by side upon the edge of the bed. It was useless however to ignore the wrappings around both her palms and forearms, both of which had been kept out of sight when lying on her stomach. Catching his glancing eyes, Ahlis took that moment to adjust her bandages.

“The pain is mostly gone. Now it’s just itching,” she spoke, more annoyed than in any sort of true discomfort. “New skin takes some getting used to and breaking in, imagine that.”

“May I see it?” Aymeric asked after a moment’s pause, his voice careful in its near-whisper like intensity.

For a second, she hesitated. Unraveling them didn’t hurt much anymore, so when she did reveal the newly healed burns that rested beneath she didn’t hold back in extending her arm in front of him. If only her heart that thumped heavily in her chest agreed! Nerves, however troublesome they proved to be, would do little in assuaging his concern.

“There you are,” Ahlis said with an exuberance she hoped sounded sure and confident. “It’s not so terrible now, aye?”

It was not her intent to fool him, rather, it was better than the ire she felt deep within at how it happened, and better still than to appear caught off-guard or foolish to have been struck at all by such an injury. It had been a mistake, one that could’ve gone even more horribly wrong in an instant if not for…

“Oh, Ahlis...”

Her thoughts stopped, everything stopped. She was helpless as she watched the shock that touched his eyes turn to despair, to pain that flowed into the tenderness that came with his touch as he cradled her wrist to his cheek. There was a knot of scarred tissue just below where his lips met her skin; the first kiss was given there, then another just above it towards her palm.

Such sensations, intensified against her freshly healed wounds, rendered her voice frozen within her throat. It was almost too much; she released a heavy, shaky breath that gave him pause, and Aymeric turned to look upon her so intensely, so painfully, she dared think she might cry herself.

“It’s fine,” she found herself saying, finally, unsure if it truly was after all.

---

Later, long after they had gone to bed, she would wake to see the stars out in the beyond just outside the window, the silhouette of spires cutting across the dark. A rare, clear night in the city. Gripped by the sight, she stole herself away to find a place to write...

Evenings have proven to be the best, and only time, to write clear-headed these days. As if I do not need sleep.

The itching has finally subsided enough to carry on without thinking about it and now I can finally sit for half a bell to write while at the same time not wishing to scratch my skin off. I’ve had lacerations, all manners of bruising and concussive injuries. I’ve even been shot at! But note to self: never get fucking burned like that again.

I’m going to kill that bastard with his own medicine, and I will enjoy it

[there is a drawing here of a figure in a robe with a sword skewering it all the way through, who is also on fire]

The healing has progressed as it will, and I trust Krile and Alphinaud’s hands more than any other—although granted my sourness over it all could have been a little less scathing, I guess.

But what can I say, a lot of bullshite has been happening these days. I’m getting a mite bit enraged that these Ascian arseholes aren’t leaving me alone, and yet I am not entirely surprised. It’s not over until it is over.

gods when will that be never ah ha ha ha

In the meantime I have made good on my own promises to make my own self comfortable as best I can, heal as best I am able, and spending what time I can in Ishgard. The others are probably wondering when I’ll return to the Stones but until G’raha outlines our approach on implementing proper protocol on the tempering solution I honestly don’t want to hear about anything else. Alisaie should be helping, I am sure, as is Alphinaud too I think. It’ll be fine! And fast too.

I mean I would help more too but I don’t have a crazy as all hells academic background as they do seven hells I’d love me a curriculum found in the Studium within those stupid halls and their even stupider “zero involvement” stance on bloody everything

share your goddamn science you twits

I am far more tired than I thought. But! I am also finally able to think about the impending reconnaissance we’re bound to have soon once Thancred and Urianger return.

if something happens with them I swear to ever loving shite I am going to boot them back to the First with my fist

Without my Stupid! Arms! Annoying me!

OH is that little

[the writing stops here with an ink blot, as if the pen was dropped and left there, the smeared and distinct shape of a cat’s paw crossing part of the page]

#my writing #the journals #this got way longer than I thought but I did it!#big thx to em for helping me edit this bless and thank #I enjoyed this even if it was difficult to write #hey I finally got some g'raha writing in AND some kinda fluffy angsty stuff? yeeee #; final fantasy xiv #patch 5.4 #shadowbringers #reading for maint har har

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writer1 · 4 years

Text

A regretful Wolf and his Beauty

Chapter Five

Beast!Rex x Fem!reader.

Summary: As punishment for his actions, young prince Rex was cursed to become a monster by a witch. The only thing that saved him from his fate was an enchantress, who gave him a condition. He has to find true love in order to redeem himself and he only has until the last petal of the enchanted rose falls. Rex's family helps you by guiding your way into his heart. Rex's fate now lies in your hands.

A/N: Hey, this is a collaborative fic between myself and @ahsokatano-thetogruta.

Warnings: feeling of anxiety, treating an injury, fear, self hatred.

Rex, Cody, Obi Wan and the four kids leave the room, Rex is still embarrassed about walking on all fours but it's not too bad. "Where should we go first?" Rex asks nervously.

"We'll start by checking the rooms, someone's bound to be looking for you up here." Cody tells him, shuffling forward. Rex feels guilty everytime he sees his Ori'Vod's new form, he's trying not to feel guilty since Cody told him that it wasn't his fault, but it's hard. "Okay, let's go." They move forward, heading to the room right next to Rex's. There's no one in there.

Rex stifles a yawn, it's starting to be night time. He already didn't get much sleep last night, so he's exhausted. But he doesn't tell anyone, he can keep going. "Rex!!" Rex startles, hearing a deeper voice call out his name. He turns to see an adult suit of armor running down the hall towards him.

The suit has tatters of clothes on it, a brown cloth on it's head, and a footstool running and yipping behind him. It stops right in front of Rex. "Rex!! Are you okay, we've all been looking everywhere for you." The suit of armor tries to hug him but Rex flinches back, not knowing who it is.

Obi Wan and Cody realize what's going on, but before they can say anything Anakin beats them to it. "Wait, you don't recognize me? I'm your best friend." Anakin asks sadly, he's drooping now and feels like he would cry if he could. Rex's eyes widen, he looks at the suit of armor over again. Realizing the resemblance and that the tatters of clothes are, in fact, Anakin's.

"Anakin!!?" Rex shouts, staring at his best friend in shock. Rex is about the same size as the now armored adult Anakin while standing, or an inch or two taller. "What!!! Wait, Are you older?"

Anakin chuckles nervously. "Yeah, we still don't know why. And it's only physically, I still feel like a kid on the inside." Anakin looks back over his shoulder at the nervous angel hovering just behind him. "Padmé is here as well."

Everyone is confused about where she might be. "It's alright Padmé, you don't have to hide." Anakin encourages her to come out from where she was hiding behind him. The others gasp in surprise. She is smaller and she still looks human, except her body is made out of porcelain.

"Padmé, it is you." Rex looks at her dress, noticing it is the same one she was wearing at the party.

"Yeah, the only thing that's really changed is that I look older, like how Anakin looks older but he's still the same inside." She smiles back at him, glad that they are in this together.

"As long as you are okay. I'm so sorry that this has happened." Rex feels a pang of guilt inside of him.

"Anakin told me what happened, this was never your fault. It's the witch's." She sounds annoyed that someone could do such a thing and then blame it on someone else, saying that it's their fault.

"Thank you, though I still feel somewhat responsible."

Padmé floats over to Rex and places her tiny porcelain hand on the side of his face. "We promise that we'll help you through this. You've helped us so much as well so it's the least we can do." She smiles at him and then floats back to Anakin, then she decides to sit down on the edge of footstool Artoo.

Anakin walks a little closer to Rex, slowly as not to make Rex feel uncomfortable "So can I give you that hug now?" Cody and Obi Wan watch the interaction between the two, neither of them had even thought to explain Anakin's predicament to Rex.

Rex nods shyly, him and Anakin would give hugs to each other all the time, Anakin was considered family among the Royals, but Rex isn't sure why Anakin would want to hug him in this form.

Rex leans against the wall, standing to make it easier for Anakin to hug him. The Knight doesn't wait, wrapping his arms around the young werewolf. He squeezes tightly, pulling away only to give his best friend and brother a keldabe kiss. It takes Rex a few moments to get up the courage to hug his friend back, smiling. His tail starts wagging, thumping against the wall.

"What happened here?" Anakin asks, spotting the burn on Rex's arm.

Rex chuckles as poor Fives looks so guilty. "Me and my brothers did a group hug… we may have forgotten about Fives' hands being candles." Anakin chuckles, as Obi Wan and Cody continue to watch.

Anakin and the kids have all helped Rex with this, and he them. Cody doesn't know how to fix this, the witch never gave them a way to break the curse, so it's very likely that it's permanent. He can't bear the thought of everyone being stuck in these forms for the rest of their lives.

And how is Rex supposed to run the kingdom, if anyone outside of the castle sees him like this, they will hunt him down. The very thought would bring tears to Cody's eyes if he had them. "Is everything okay, Cody?" The desk turns to see Obi Wan looking at him, he's sure that if Obi Wan had a face he would be deeply concerned.

"I…" Cody hesitates for a moment. He doesn't want to burden his boyfriend with his worries right now. "I'm fine, Sweetheart" He tries to sound convincing, but Obi Wan can tell that something is bothering him, but he doesn't push him to say something he doesn't want to say.

"Okay, if there's anything you need to talk about, I'll be here for you, Cody." He places a comforting hand on Cody, seeming as he can't smile he may as well find another way to comfort his lover.

Cody tries his best to lean into the touch "Thank you, I appreciate it." He turns to the rest of the group. "Right, we need to go and find Kix now to help treat Rex's burn."

Everyone agrees and begins to search the castle again for Kix. Artoo pads around everyone, jumping happily and wanting someone to play with him. He goes to Anakin and whines by his feet. Anakin chuckles. "We can't play right now, Boy, but I'll give you lots of attention later, okay?" The little footstool barks in delight, making Anakin smile.

They've all been walking for a few minutes and Rex hears some people calling out his name. His ears perk up instantly at the familiar name and he lifts nose into the air, listening carefully. "What is it, Rex'ika?" Cody asks, seeing that something had grabbed Rex's attention all of a sudden. He hears his name again and he instantly recognizes their voices. "It's Kix and Jesse."

Everyone is surprised at how much Rex's senses have heightened being a werewolf. They walk further down the corridor, Kix and Jesse's voices are now in earshot. The group walks up to one of the few guest bedroom’s the castle has, hearing Kix and Jesse inside. They all walk in, Artoo trotting behind them, sniffing everything. Artoo starts barking as everyone sees a pen walk out from under the bed. “Rex!! Are you oka-!” Artoo goes running at Kix before anyone can stop him, the pen’s eyes widen. “AUGH!!! No. No no no!!!” He screams, floating as fast as he can away from the footstool.

Everyone watches in horror as the puppy turned footstool chases the floating pen all around the room, Anakin runs and grabs Kix into his metal hands just before Artoo pounces on him. “Artoo, No!! Bad dog, Kix is not a toy! You okay, Kix?” He asks the pen in his hands, who’s clearly tired and… out of breath? After his ordeal. “I… I’m fine.”

“What the kriff is going on!” Everyone turns to see a piece of paper folded into the shape of a human walking out of the large closet, looking at them. “Jesse!” Rex yells just before Artoo growls menacingly, Jesse sees Kix in Anakin’s hands. Realizing what must have happened he yelps, running as fast as he can to Rex, who gently picks up the paper man.

The young werewolf sits down with his paper cousin cupped carefully in his hands, it was difficult holding him with one hand while on four legs.. “Rex!!! They found you!” Jesse sounds excited, but he doesn’t have a face to show it.

“Yeah, Obi Wan and Cody found me.” Rex smiles happily, although he’s interested in what his older cousin has done to himself. “You folded yourself into a paper doll? Nice!” The thirteen year old tells him, Jesse nods. “Yeah, I also have plans for Kix to draw some details on me, but we decided to wait until later.” Jesse doesn’t mention why they waited, not wanting his younger cousin to feel bad.

But Rex knows exactly why they waited, his ears press against the back of the head sadly and he can’t hold back the whine. His tail wraps around his legs tightly as his whole body droops in sadness.

Jesse places one of his hands on Rex’s finger, rubbing it soothingly. “It's fine Rex, we were all worried about you. No one minded looking for you at all, besides, I only thought of it and asked Kix about an hour ago, so it’s not like I was waiting long.” Rex smiles, bringing Jesse up to his face and nuzzling him.

“Wait, why are the kids here?” Kix asks, noticing the younger kids standing on Cody.

"They got worried about Rex so they came to look for him as well." Cody says with a little sigh. "But they did help Rex to feel better, telling him that being in this form doesn't scare them. And they are right." He wants to smile at the kids atop of him. "After all Rex, you are still our brother." Rex smiles, his ears perked back up from the feeling of his older brother snuggling up into his fur.

Kix smiles at the both of them and then sees the burn mark on his arm, so he rushes over to check on Rex. "Kriff! What happened?" He looks around at everyone with an annoyed look because no one told him sooner about the burn than now. He can see that the wound is fresh, telling him that it hasn't happened long ago. As he looks around at everyone, he sees Fives with a clearly nervous look on his face, still feeling guilty as he wrings his candle hands around each other nervously.

"Don't worry about it Kix, it was only an accident. Me and Stutter were having a hug, so when Echo, Kiara and Fives joined in, the candle on Fives' hand burned me. But it's okay, it wasn't his fault." Rex explains, hoping that Kix would understand and wouldn't get too mad.

"Ah I see, I'm sorry that I overreacted, Fives" he smiles apologetically and looks over at Fives, hoping that Fives will understand that it's just his natural instincts as a doctor to do what's best for the health of other people, especially those close to him.

"It's okay, Kix. You are a doctor after all, so I don't blame you for being worried about your cousin having an injury." Fives rubs the back of his neck. "I guess we're just all a bit stressed right now."

"Yeah, I don't know how I can treat this wound properly without having hands…" he looks around at everyone, most of them don't have hands except Obi Wan and Anakin but they are fully armoured, and there's Padmé but she is too fragile.

Jesse jumps up from where he was cuddling Rex's fur, who whines a little at the absence of his big brother hugging him. "I can always help you?" Kix turns to look at Jesse.

"That would be great, thank you Vod. Though you won't be able to use the burn ointment in case you get wet and rip." Jesse feels sad, wanting to frown but he doesn't have a face, remembering that he's only made out of paper, so he feels a bit vulnerable.

"I c-c-can h-help with t-that p-p-part." The little paintbrush suggests, now floating above Cody. Kix smiles.

"That would be very helpful, thank you Stutter." Kix thanks his younger cousin. Rex smiles, happy that his family are being so kind to him, even though he looks like a monster. "How about we go and get you fixed up, Rex?"

"Yes, thank you." He winces at the thought of the pain on his arm. "Let's go." Everyone heads out of the room, Jesse sitting on Rex's head, holding onto one of his ears and Kix is standing with the kids on Cody.

Neither of the two older cousins say anything about Rex walking on four legs, and Rex is very grateful for it. "How are you doing Rex?" Jesse asks, making Rex flinch. His cousin is right next to his ear, and his hearing has become much better so Jesse speaking was painful.

"Jesse! Be careful! Rex has better hearing now, and you're right next to his ear. You just hurt him." Kix tells his twin sharply, who slides down to Rex's shoulder. "Sorry Rex, is this better." Rex nods. "Yeah, it was only because you were right beside my ear."

"Good, now how are you doing? Me and Kix both saw how scared you were when you ran out of the ballroom." Rex's ears press against his head, remembering what the witch had said to him. "I… I don't know." He whispers, not knowing what to say.

"I… I'm scared, and I feel so guilty." Jesse rubs Rex's shoulder softly, he hates that Rex feels guilty. His cousin did nothing wrong at all. "I already told you, Rex. There's no one to blame but that witch." Cody tells him again, and Rex wants to believe him, he really does. But he can't.

"I know, and I'm trying to believe you Cody. But it's hard, I can't stop thinking about what Ventress said." Anakin walks over, placing a hand on Rex's shoulder. " Cody's right. She lied, I could sense it with the force, Rex. None of this is your fault, and none of us will stop telling you that until you believe it." Everyone nods at Anakin's words, they will not let Rex believe that he's the reason this happened.

Rex nods, smiling at everyone. He loves his family, he's so glad that they aren't mad at him, even though he's mad at himself. "Rex!" Everyone freezes as they hear Rex's name called, they walk towards Kix's office to see a floating mop, followed by a floating frying pan carrying a turquoise teacup in it.

"Rex, there you are!" The mop floats over to the group, and Rex realizes who it is. "Waxer?" The mop does its best to make a nodding motion, moving the stick in a weird rubbery way that it should not be able to do. "Yep, it's good to see you, Rex. Me and Boil were worried about you." Waxer gestures to the frying pan. Rex is happy to see his 17 year old cousin’s, and one year old Numa. he does feel bad that they had to come looking for him.

"Thanks! You… you didn't have to come looking for me." The pan fly's up. "Do one of you mind holding Numa for a few minutes? I'd like to be able to look at Rex." Obi Wan walks over, carefully taking the fragile baby teacup from the pan. The little teacup giggles.

After Obi Wan takes Numa, Boil sits up on his handle. Just like Kix he has a face, even a scratch shaped like his mustache. He flies closer to Rex, inspecting the kid's face. Rex's ears press against the back of his head as his cousin looks him over. "Ventress really changed you! Didn't she." Rex feels fear and sadness, thinking that Boil is saying that he's ugly.

"Boil! Why the Kriff are you being so rude!" The mop yells at him as the group looks at him angrily, the pan just realized exactly what he had said, and how it must have sounded to Rex.

Boil's eyes widen. "Oh, no. I didn't mean to sound rude, I'm just disgusted because that witch thinks she can do this to you and get away with it." Boil's eyebrows knit together in anger at even the thought of Ventress, but his expression turns softer when he looks at Rex again. "I'm sorry Rex." He feels a little guilty as Rex looks sad and hurt.

"It's alright, Boil. I know what you mean now, she has turned me into a monster." He frowns at the thought, still wondering why nobody hates him now because of how he looks. Waxer hates that Rex just called himself that, so he floats his way over to Rex to give him a hug. Well, it's more just that he's pressing himself into the fur on Rex.

Rex gently places an arm around Waxer, hugging his cousin back. "Yeah, everyone keeps saying that and I believe them. But...even just having to walk on all fours makes me feel like an animal. Like I'm not myself anymore…"

"Everything will be okay, we'll figure this out." Waxer presses himself more into Rex before pulling away and floating back to his daughter, who's sitting contently in Obi Wan's hands, looking sleepy like she needs a nap. "Hey Boil, I think we should go and take Numa to bed." Boil nods and heads over, seeing his sleepy one year old niece dozing off in Obi Wan's hands. Waxer uses a soft voice when speaking to Numa to keep her slightly awake but not disturbing her too much "C'mon, Lil'un. Let's go and get you into bed."

Obi Wan gently places her on Boil's back. "We'll see you both later." Waxer nods again and the two brothers float away.

"Right Rex, let's go and treat that wound, shall we?" Rex nods and Kix leads the way to his medical office. There's medical supplies all over the place, Kix hadn't gotten to organizing his things yet, and he probably won't now. He looks around, flying over and finding the burn ointment.

"Can someone.. uh… can someone please come grab this for me." The poor pen is so embarrassed, Kix keeps forgetting that he doesn't have hands. "Of course." Obi Wan says, walking over and picking up the ointment. He grabs Kix as well, carrying the two over and setting them on Cody.

"Do you mind also grabbing some bandages." Obi Wan nods, digging through a crate and grabbing them. He also sets them on Cody. "You okay with me setting these on you, Cyare.” He asks, feeling bad for not asking the first time. Cody does his best to nod.

"Of course I'm okay with you setting them on me, it's fine, Sweetheart." Obi Wan nods, stroking Cody's scar… or the mark that looks like his scar. "Okay, Rex, can you please come over here. Let's get you all fixed up." Rex walks over, Jesse's still on his shoulder, he sits down beside Cody. "Okay, do you mind applying the ointment, Stutter." The paint brush nods, dipping his bristles into the ointment and flying over to Rex.

"Sorry Rex, this is going to sting." Kix warns him, and Rex braces himself. He growls as soon as Stutter starts brushing it on, clenching his teeth against the pain.

He feels a comforting hand on his back, turning to see Obi Wan behind him. Cody presses against Rex's leg, trying to give his Rex'ika some sort of comfort. He hates seeing his little brother in pain.

"There, all done." Stutter pulls away as soon as Kix says that, and Rex sighs in relief as the pain starts to minimize. "Now can you wrap his arm up, Obi Wan?" The Knight nods, grabbing the bandages and carefully wrapping up the young wolf's arm.

Obi Wan makes sure to be very gentle, not wanting to hurt Rex. He's careful not to rip out any fur while wrapping up Rex's arm. "There, is it too tight? I didn't rip out or pull any fur, did I."

Rex shakes his head. "No, it feels good." Kix flies up to check it over, looking closely at the bandages. "It looks good, nice job Obi Wan." The Knight nods, happy to have helped.

"Okay, are we good to head to the ballroom? Hopefully Waxer and Boil spread the word of finding Rex to everyone." Rex plays with his tail nervously again, he really doesn't want to go into the ballroom. It's going to be crowded, and he really doesn't want a bunch of people staring at him.

"Do we have to?" Rex asks quietly, Cody shuffles a little, turning towards him. Everyone can tell that he's scared. "It's going to be fine, Rex'ika. No one's mad, everyone's going to be so relieved that you're okay." Rex sighs, nodding.

"Okay, are we going to be making food soon? I'm hungry, do you guys even eat?" Everyone looks at each other, they never even thought about the fact that no one's eaten in hours. And the only one who noticed was Rex.

"Well, it does make sense, we're all objects. But Rex should have eaten a while ago, we are getting him some food as soon as we're done in the ballroom." Obi Wan tells everyone. They all agree, it does make sense, besides, some of them don’t have mouths to eat with anyway.

"Please don't make me go…" Rex whimpers, his fears are getting the better of him. Cody turns to everyone. "Can you all step outside for a moment, I need to talk to Rex alone." They all nod, and everyone walks or floats out. They're all worried for Rex, Padme carries little Stutter onto Anakin's shoulder to rest, it's way past the four year olds bedtime.

Once everyone is out, Cody turns to Rex. The young werewolf is hugging himself tightly, tears in his eyes and his tail is wrapped tightly around his legs.

Rex looks up when Cody has shuffled closer up to him, his heavy tears nearly spilling out with just the slight movement of his head "Please, Bubby. Don't make me go down." Cody's heart shatters, hating seeing his Rex'ika look so afraid.

He shuffles around Rex, allowing the boy turned werewolf to lean into him and tries his best to give Rex a hug by leaning into him. Rex's sobs echoed throughout the room, the feeling of anxiety and fear eating away at him with each passing second. "Shh, it's alright, Rex'ika. No one is going to be mad at you, or even afraid of you for that matter." Rex wipes his eyes a little and sniffles, his ears pressed back against his head.

"Why wouldn't they be?" Rex looks up at his big brother with watery eyes.

"We are your family. We would never abandon you, so when you need our help, we'll all be here for you. No matter what, okay?" Cody's smile isn't visible, but it's there. Rex nods his head and then his tail starts to wag again, making him feel embarrassed. He's going to have to get used to that. "It's okay, Rex'ika. You don't have to be nervous."

"I know, I'm just really happy to have such a great big brother like you, Bubby." He wraps his arms around Cody in a thankful hug. "You're welcome, Rex'ika. It's what brothers are for." Rex presses his forehead against the top of Cody, near his scar. He's grateful to have his brother there to help him out.

“Are you ready to go now, Rex’ika. As soon as we’re done we’ll get you some food, then you’re going to bed. I can see how exhausted you are.” Rex nods, getting on all fours. “Can you, Obi Wan and Anakin help me figure out how to walk on two feet please. I hate walking like this.” Cody nods. “Of course Rex’ika. Tomorrow we’ll help you, but I probably won’t be much help.”

Rex nuzzles his cheek against the side of Cody, ignoring the roughness of the wood. “I don’t care, I just want you there, Bubby.” Cody would be smiling at his little brother if he could. “Of course. But you might want to stop nuzzling me, you might get a splinter in your cheek, Rex’ika.” Cody jokes, and feels a warmness where his heart would be when he hears his baby brother chuckle for the first time since before being cursed.

“I don’t care.” Rex whispers, making Cody laugh. “You will when we have to pull it out.” Rex smiles, he stops nuzzling cody. His tail is wagging happily again. “I love you, Bubby.”

Cody wishes that he could hug his sweet Vod’ika and never let go. “I love you too, Rex’ika. No matter what you look like, you’re still my little brother, and I promise that nothing in this world or the next can change that."

"Thank you so much, Bubby." Rex whispers, holding back tears from what his brother had just said. "You're welcome, Rex'ika. Now come on, you are probably starving." Rex's stomach growls loudly, answering for him. He can feel the heat rise to his cheeks.

"I knew it, we'll go to the ballroom for a few minutes. Then we'll see about getting you some food, hm?" Rex smiles and nods. "Yes please." Cody heads towards the door and Rex follows behind the shuffling desk. Rex opens the door walking out to see the group, they all have worried expressions, and Kiara floats towards Rex.

"Are you okay, Prince Rex." Rex smiles, nodding. "I'm okay now, but you can just call me Rex, Kiara. Any friend of Fives is a friend of mine." The feather duster nods, quickly giving him a hug. "Thank you prince…. I mean Rex. Your fur is so soft by the way."

Rex chuckles kindly, feeling a little embarrassed because it isn't a phrase that he's used to hearing "Thank you, Kiara." She smiles back at him. "You're welcome, Rex."

"Shall we head to the ballroom now, then we'll get you some food?" Cody prompts his Rex'ika, glad that he's feeling a bit braver to face everyone else. Rex takes in a long deep breath "yeah." He breathes out, ready to face other members of his family and friends.

Everyone leads the way before Rex, he'd rather not be in front of them because he still feels nervous about how he looks, so having lots of people looking at him from behind will just make him feel insecure. Down the hallway, the sound of a piano plays an out of time tune, sounding a little broken but it still sounds sort of good.

They all arrive at the ballroom, hearing voices making conversation and sounding more like themselves. The sound of children playing and laughing echoes around the room as they all decided to play some games with each other. It looked like they were playing hide and seek, and now they are smaller it makes the game seem a lot more fun too because there are so many more hiding places.

Rex is glad that they have recovered after what had happened earlier on, seeing everyone writhing in pain and agony as they started to change and morph into inanimate objects. He smiles at the sight of children having fun with each other, 99 watching over them of course.

As soon as Rex got through the door, everything fell silent, making Rex feel nervous again. His ears press back just a second before everyone calls out his name in unison and then hastily make their way towards him. Rex sees a little music box hop towards him and he has a pretty clear idea who it might be. "Soka, is that you?"

The little box stops just in front of him, opening the lid up to reveal an older looking Togruta in a burgundy dress. Rex could tell that this is Ahsoka, he recognizes her markings on her face, montrals and lekku. "Yeah, Ori'Vod. It's me." Rex looks surprised, she even sounds older too, though her excitable personality tells him that this is still his little sister. She hops over a little bit closer to Rex, grabbing one of his fingers and hugs it, wrapping her tiny arms around it as much as she can. "I'm glad you're okay, Rex! How are you?" She says with relief, happy that her big brother is okay now.

"Yes, thank you. I'm alright, Soka." He pats the top of her head very gently using a single finger, making sure not to hurt his little sister. “I’m so glad that you’re okay, Rex. I was so scared when you ran and we couldn’t find you.” The little statue nuzzles against Rex's finger, loving the comfort of his fur. Rex smiles at his baby sister, he's so happy that she isn’t afraid of him.

taglist: @pinkiemme @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @lightning-wolffe @captainrexisboo @ellie1366

#wererex #werewolf rex #wererex x reader #werewolf rex x reader #werewolf clone wars au #beauty and the beast au #beauty and the beast #fives #echo #ahsoka #kiara #stutter #my oc #our oc #my writing #star wars clone wars #star wars rebels #99

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thenotsofantasticlifestory · 5 years

Text

Baby Madness

Killer x reader, Kid Pirates, Pregnant!reader

Warning: Cursing and confused Kid

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This started as a silly drabble oml

++++++++++

Killer wrapped himself around you, even with the swell of stomach his long arms circled all the way around. These moments were rare, sitting quietly in bed and just basking in each other’s presence and warmth. A slight twinge of pain shot through making you flinch and Killer quickly jerked his head up.

“You okay?” he asked. Being so close to your due date he’d been even jumpier than usual. Every twitch you gave had him dashing to your side ready to go.

“It’s fine, I’ve still got another week,” you said, rubbing his arms affectionately. “I’ve read that false alarm contractions are pretty common as you get closer.”

You could feel Killer’s whole body loosen as he settled against the pillow, setting his chin back onto your shoulder. He still looked a bit nervous as he said, “If you say so, but if you feel anything else you tell me immediately okay?”

You turn and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, “I promise Noodle. Besides, we’ll be at the next island in a day or two. We’ll find the doctor there and everything will be fine.”

He nodded against your shoulder, arms tightening just enough to give a slight pressure without squeezing the baby, “Okay, everything will be fine,” he repeats, almost more to himself than to you. He’d been very precise with the navigator that when your labor started, you’d all be settled on an island with a doctor and not giving birth on the ship. The Victoria Punk was a majestic boat that had survived several battles but it was certainly not the hygienic, safe environment in which to bring a newborn infant.

“It’ll be fine,” he murmured again.

+++++

“You have the stopwatch with you right?” Killer asked as he readjusted the helmet on his head. It’s morning now and he knows there’s plenty of duties he needs to get done, more so if he wants to get ahead of schedule enough to dedicate all his time to you at the next island.

“Yep, really Killer I’m telling you fake contractions are very normal,” you said. Killer had been tenacious in his studies as soon as he found out you were pregnant, bringing back piles of books and reading them through with you, sometimes making notes and underlining important topics in the pages. It was really very sweet but it had also quickly become overbearing. You knew he was just worried though, if anything you’d swear he was the one having a baby, not you.

“Okay but if you feel it again, time it, and if it’s five to seven minutes-“

“I’ll come and find you immediately,” you finish for him. “Killer don’t worry so much, we’ve got it all planned out.” You reached up to place a peck against his mask, his hands going to your stomach subconsciously. “Go be first mate, get stuff done. Me and the little munchkin will be here resting up.”

Killer sighed as his shoulders slumped in defeat, “Yes babe.” He’s worried true, but right now his heart feels full, the woman he loves carrying his child, things he thought he’d never have in his life and he’s thankful for them every day.

+++++

You were settled in comfortably, reading one of the dozens of baby books that littered the nightstand. There had been a couple more ‘contractions’ and it was a little odd to be having this many so early. Checking all the chapters on early labor hadn’t made you feel much better, but your pregnancy had always been on calendar. You were practically a text book example, hitting each new checkpoint exactly when the books had said, so labor would still be a week away at least.

The rumble that came from your belly pulled you from your thoughts, it had been a few hours already since Killer started working. Maneuvering awkwardly to your feet, you padded from the cabin down the hallway toward the kitchen. When you had reached your door, a sharp pain split through your abdomen. That definitely wasn’t hunger, were fake contractions supposed to be that strong? You shoved the worries aside, chalking it up to the hungry baby inside you.

Heat and Kid were doing dishes in the kitchen, well, Heat mostly as Kid halfheartedly dried them. You were considering what to get for a snack before another contraction hit, this one strong enough to stop you in your tracks.

Oh, something was definitely wrong.

You clutched the side of the door frame as another splitting pain shot through your abdomen. Heat turned to look in concern, your groan drawing his attention. Sweat was beading on your brow and before you can catch your breath a sudden pressure dropped onto your lower back. Warmth spread and the sound of splashing reached your ears as your eyes widened in horror.

“Oh fuck…” Heat murmured.

Kid turned now too, only to make a face of disgust seeing the water spilling from your body, “Oh my god, did you just piss all over the floor? That’s fucking disgusting!”

You take a steadying breath before spitting back, “My water just broke you asshat!”

“Oh,” is all he manages, face dawning into comprehension as Heat rushed to your side. He throws down a dish towel on the spill and helps you into a chair.

“I’ll get Killer” he says as he rushes out.

Kid looked completely at a loss now, dishes abandoned as a very pregnant woman was still slightly dripping on the chair, and visibly trembling in pain.

“Uh- “he started, “Um, what should I- do you need anything like-“

“Kid” you cut him off mercifully, “just come here and hold my hand.”

“Yup,” he practically jumped to your side, careful to avoid the now damp towel on the floor and grabbed your hand with his human one.

“Just this?” he asked.

“Yes, just that.”

You settled down slightly, starting into the breathing techniques you and Killer had practiced countless times. In and out, in and out, long slow breaths. Kid fidgeted next to you, unsure how to help, and found himself talking again in an attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere.

“So uh, how long do I need to do this? You just like,” he made a vague motion with his metal hand, “pop it out right?”

“Kid.”

“Yeah huh?”

“Just, just shut the fuck up and let me breathe.”

Kid was saved from snapping back by Killer who nearly slammed into the doorframe to catch himself. He’s panting hard, even through the mask, with Heat right on his tail.

“Is it happening!?” he demands.

Kid turned to his friend, more than happy to pass off this responsibility, “I think so? I mean one second she’s fine, the next sh-shit ow!” the audible crack of finger bones breaking startles him as you squeeze his hand through a particularly intense contraction. Kid’s cursing nearly drowned out your own pained moan before he slammed the metal hand against the table.

“Fuck let go! I’ve only got one good hand left!” he screamed. As the pain passed you release his hand, which he yanks to himself, shooting a glare at you. Killer replaced him in a second, shoving Kid to the side much to his annoyance.

“How long between contractions?” he asked, voice frantic but obviously excited.

A few more calming breaths, you hadn’t really timed yourself this time but it seemed like the was a decent gap, “Not sure…I think, eight minutes? Maybe?”

He’s already whipped out his own stopwatch, “Okay, just let me know and I’ll time it, how are you feeling? Is it bad yet?”

You can’t help but chuckle in relief, Killer really was prepared for anything, “It’s bearable, we’ve still got some time-“

“Are we going to ignore that you crushed all my fingers just now?” Kid demanded.

Killer’s mask whipped around, ready to reprimand him, but you place a hand to his shoulder, wordlessly backing him down. You turned to Kid and locked eyes with him.

“Listen to me very carefully,” you said, and Kid flinched at the seriousness of your voice.

“I don’t think you understand what is happening right now,” you said, “What I’m about to do is essentially the equivalent of shitting a watermelon and even before that happens, even before I shit a goddamn watermelon Kid, I get to sit here and feel my insides rip themselves open slowly for at least six hours. And it’s just six hours if I’m lucky. So do you really wanna bitch about your bruised fingers right now? Right now?”

Kid opened his mouth but couldn’t find anything to say before closing it again with a stupefied look on his face. After about a minute of absorbing this horrifying knowledge he just nods his head.

“Okay, fair.”

With Kid metaphorically on board, Killer returned his attention to you.

“So it’s really happening now?” he asked.

“Her water broke,” Heat added.

“Are you seriou-NNfgh!” Killer flinched as you squeezed his hand, another contraction, but he starts the stopwatch, keeping a diligent eye on the timeface despite the pain shooting up his arm. Behind him Kid snorted, seeing Killer now on the receiving end of your iron grip.

“How long till we reach the island?” Killer choked out.

“We’ve still got at least nine or ten hours, we weren’t expecting to hit port until tonight,” Heat said.

The tension in your grip fades as the contraction passes and Killer slumps.

“No, no that’s not gonna work,” you said, “we need to get there sooner.”

“Well, I mean- “Heat stumbled, “let me check with the navigator.”

He leaves, and Killer takes your hand in both of his now, stroking gently, “Babe, maybe we should get a space here ready too, just in case?”

His voice was gentle and coaxing, but he’s unsurprised when you reject the idea, “Absolutely not. I love you but we will not have our baby in the same place where Kid left a rotting body for three days just to prove a point to Heat.” You pointed to the very clear outline stained permanently into the floorboards.

“Oh yeah,” Kid snickered, “I won that fucking bet too.”

Killer sighed, scratching at the head of his helmet in frustration, “Okay well, shit, okay,” He rises and starts to pace, “I guess we just have to wait? Can you make it that long?”

“Yeah, It’ll be fine, we’ll be there before you even know i-augh!” the pain cuts you off as Killer clicked the stopwatch.

“Ten and a half minutes,” he said, “Gives us some time but it’s not a lot.” You nodded, attempting to get to your feet before plopping back into the chair, sending both Kid and Killer with hands out to catch you if necessary.

You waved them off, “Kid, go grab some of those baby books, they might have information how to slow this down.”

He grumbles but rises, striding from the room.

You call to him, “They’re in the top nightstand drawer!”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he calls back.

+++++++

You sat for a while, Killer stroking your back and holding your hand as you continued into the breathing techniques. The time between contractions, while still at least ten minutes apart according to Killer, felt far too short before a fresh wave of pain rolled over you.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed before Heat returned, looking slightly relieved and holding something behind his back.

“Well?” Killer asked.

“The wind’s in our favor so we dropped every sail we have, as long as it stays that way, we can probably make it there an hour or two earlier than expected.”

Killer groaned, but you squeezed his hand in encouragement.

“It helps but it’s still a ways away,” he said.

“We don’t have a choice,” you said, “I can make it until then.”

“By the way,” Heat shifted awkwardly, pulling out what was behind his back, “wasn’t sure when to give this but a couple of us wanted to make a baby blanket.”

It was thickly stitched with patches of various color and design, but it was soft, and you tear up, “This is so sweet! Where do you guys find the fabric?”

He scratched at his head, “Some civilians of the last island ‘donated’ them to us.”

“‘Donated’?”

“Well, from their clothes. That they were wearing.”

Killer inspected a corner of a patch, “Is that blood?”

“Yeah don’t worry, that’ll wash out.”

You held the blanket to your chest, “It’s perfect, thank you Heat.”

Heat flushed, mumbling something inaudible, clearly not used to the attention. Killer turned to him.

“Hey did you see Kid?”

Heat straightened back up, “No I thought he was here with you two?”

Killer scratched at his helmet, “The hell, he was just supposed to grab the books.” He turned to you, “just wait here, I’m going to see what he’s doing.”

+++++++

He managed to find Kid, sitting cross legged on the floor with his nose buried in a book. All of the baby books were scattered around him, lying half open or tossed haphazardly. Kid’s head snapped up, hearing Killer enter, and his face looked absolutely haunted.

“Dude, have you read this shit?” Kid asked.

“Yes, several times. Kid what are you doing? You were supposed to bring the books back.”

Kid placed the book down, eyes still wide and he looks as though he’s aged ten years, “I mean, holy shit?” he said, “I-… I’ve seen some pretty nasty stuff but that is just-it’s…” He shuddered, unable to voice the trauma of what he’d just read.

Killer sighed, nudging Kid with his foot as he gathered up an armful of books, “Just come on already.”

“I mean what the fuck? People do that? Why can’t they just, I don’t know, lay an egg or some shit?”

“You know that’s literally how you were born.”

“Still,” Kid said, “it’s fucking gross.”

They returned to the kitchen where you and Heat were engrossed in conversation over the blanket. He was pointing to a square of blue cloth.

“That one actually came from some rich dude at the last port, so it’s probably good material.”

“What about this one?” you gestured to a pink square with an elegant pattern.

“Oh yeah, that guy was a dick.”

Kid wordlessly rushed forward, clasping your shoulders in his hands and staring down at you now with the sympathy of a fellow soldier holding a dying friend.

“You’ll be okay, we’ll get that thing out of you,” his voice was more serious than you’d heard it before.

“I- Thanks?”

Kid nodded in resolution, giving your shoulders a soft squeeze before he let go. Killer had dumped the books on the table and was flipping through them.

“Shit,” Killer said, “there’s a lot of ways to speed up labor but not to slow it down,” he gave the last book an agitated slam shut.

Kid looked around the kitchen, visibly searching for ideas, “How about we get her drunk?”

Two smacks, one from Heat one from Killer, followed immediately upside Kid’s head. He cursed loudly and rubbed at the sore spot.

“Fine! Fuck! I’m just trying to help here! What about food?”

Killer smacked upside his head again, more on instinct than anything, before he paused, “…Actually that’s not a bad idea.”

“Fuck you!” Kid screamed.

You groaned, food sounded like the least appealing thing as your stomach swirled and you said as much.

“I think at this point,” Heat said, “we just have to stay distracted long enough to get to shore…”

With the sun still high in the sky, the idea of waiting that long was impossible, but Heat was right, there wasn’t another option.

+++++++

By the time the sky was just beginning to darken, those hours had felt like the longest in your life. Contractions were now four minutes apart and Killer had become increasingly frantic with no sight of the island in sight.

They had managed to kill an hour with Kid reading through his hit list, featuring occasional explanations on why a particular person was going to die exceptionally slowly, until Killer had decided discussing murder methods probably wasn’t great for you or the baby.

As your contractions grew in pain and shortened in rest time, the kitchen was echoing loud groans of pain every few minutes. Kid kept a wide berth from you, protecting the few human fingers he had left, as Killer took the brunt of your crushing grip. During a particularly rough minute, Killer, needing some way to alleviate his own pain, gripped Kid’s shoulder, effectively creating a train of pain. Wire had appeared in the doorway, alerted by the screaming of you and Kid, but seeing what was actually happening, turned around and left before he could be pulled in.

After what felt like a lifetime the merciful cry of “Land!” was heard, and you could’ve cried with relief.

+++++++

The Victoria Punk nearly crashed into port in its haste as the dead of night was broken abruptly by lanterns lighting and men shouting from the ship. The town was clearly prosperous, you could see it in the pristine white walled houses that lined the cobblestone walkways. A place like this would normally be a prime target to loot and burn, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

Kid leaped from deck to shore before the gangplank had been pulled, followed by Killer carrying you bridal style.

“Watch the ship! We’ll be back!” Kid called to whomever was within earshot on board.

As the two men sprinted down the street, spurred on by your increasing groans of discomfort, both come to the realization that neither knows where the other is going. The houses are nearly identical and mostly likely residential, with tall trees and manicured gardens blocking sight of the roads ahead. Kid swerved to the nearest house, banging against the front door hard enough to splinter it, “Wake up! Where’s the doctor? We got a delivery!”

When the door looked ready to crack in two, its opened by a very disgruntled and sleepy middle-aged man, who took one look before screaming.

“Eu-Eu-Eutass Kid!”

The door slammed shut, followed by several clicks of locks.

Kid turned with a satisfied smirk, “Look at that,” he jerked a thumb at the door, chest puffed in pride, “I’ve got some reputation here.”

“Kid!” you and Killer demanded in unison.

“Right, yup, shitting a watermelon.”

At the next house, Killer pulled back Kid before he approached the door, “Let me this time.” He set you gingerly to the ground, making sure you were steady on your feet before knocking more politely. After a minute or two, a bedraggled looking young man opened the door. His eyes shot open as he processed the men and woman before him and motions to shut the door, but Killer is quicker, planting a foot in the entrance to hold it open.

“Listen,” he grabbed the man by his silk robe before he can run, “my girl is about to have my baby, we just need to know where the doctor in this town is.”

“Y-You can’t t-tell me what to do, pirates!” he’d admit, this guy had some guts, but Killer was in no mood. He was about to unleash a scythe to help make him talk before your voice caught his ears.

“Look here buddy!” clearly you were in no mood either, “I am crowning as we speak, so either you tell us where to find a doctor, or I hike up my dress, squat down, and have the baby right here on your goddamn lawn!”

If it were even possible, the man’s eyes widened more, a hand to his mouth in horror. Lights from neighboring houses were beginning to flicker on to see what the commotion was.

“O-Oh- “the man muttered, “Oh no- no no no! Do not do that!”

“I’m gonna do it so help me!” you screamed.

“She’ll do it,” Killer reiterated.

“Where’s your fucking doctor!?” Kid bellowed from the sidewalk.

A loud groan of agony ripped from you, and seeing you reach down to gather up your skirt, the man finally snapped to action.

“Okay! Okay, just, don’t do that!” he grabbed your hands away from your clothes, but released them immediately seeing the deadly glare Kid had sent. Hands raised in submission, he continued, “the doctor’s not far, just go down the road here and-“

A large solid metal hand clasped his shoulder and cuts him off. The grip is anything but friendly as Kid’s lips stretched into a manic grin.

“Oh no, you’re gonna take us there buddy.”

Even in the lamplight, the man’s skin has dropped three shades paler, “I-I…”

Once Killer stands behind him, trapped between these two wanted pirates, he knows he doesn’t have a choice.

+++++++

When they reached the doctor’s house, said physician, a wrinkled little old man of at least sixty, saw the pained look on your face and the straining swell of stomach and immediately pulled you in without question. With a strength surprising to his age, the doctor had pushed back Kid and Killer, keeping them in the adjacent room while he phoned to a nurse and got you settled. Your unlucky escort had managed to slip away in the chaos, most likely returning to the safety of his home.

Kid and Killer now sat awkwardly in the small quaint waiting room, the nurse having already arrived and sounds of increasing discomfort echoing from through the door. Killer had his helmed head in his hands, knee bouncing erratically as Kid tried to find something to say to help his friend. Another cry ripped from the doctor’s room, making them both flinch. Kid fiddled with the metallic end of this prosthetic fingers as a thought dawned on him for the first time.

“Killer…you’re gonna be a dad.”

Killer barely muffled the snort that left him as he picked his head up, “Did you just now realize that?”

“No! I just- “he struggled around for the right words, “…it’s all gonna be different now, won’t it?”

“Probably.”

Kid’s eyes returned back to his hands; brow furrowed. The silence between them stretched, broken only by the carnal noises that came muffled through the other room. Killer looked toward his closest friend, head still bowed in thought, and agreed in his head. It would be different now, as soon as he walked through that door and met this new child that would become the center of his life, things never would be the same. Even their day to day sailing that seemed so simple would change. And he realized now that Kid was thinking the same thing.

“Kid.”

He grunted in response.

“It’ll be different but, in a good way.” Killer said, “just think of it like…getting a new crew member.”

Kid barked in laughter, “A useless crewmember.” Killer shot him a look, “Sorry,” Kid continued, “you know what I mean.”

Killer sighed and rested his head against the wall behind him.

“At least they won’t be alone,” Kid said.

Killer turned to him, though Kid kept his face down, but he knew what he meant. He remembered how hard it had been growing up alone and on his own, and how things had gotten just a bit easier after meeting Kid. Remembered how hard it was even with the two of them, just to get by and put food in their stomachs, to not get mugged or killed, and even if something happened there would be no one to mourn that loss except the other. But this child, they wouldn’t have to know that suffering, the pain of trying to sleep in the freezing night while your body cried out for food and warmth. They would never be alone or abandoned like them. Kid met his stare now; his eyes were deep in some long-forgotten memory.

“No,” Killer said, “they won’t. Never.”

Kid nodded, a silent promise.

The moment broke when the door cracked open, the doctor’s wrinkled face peeking through, “Which of you is the father again?”

Killer sprang to his feet.

“Come with me, you’ve got someone to meet,” the doctor said and returned into the room.

Killer moved forward but sent one look back at his friend before he walked through the door. Anyone else wouldn’t see the slightest tremor in his arms, but Kid wasn’t anyone.

“Go on,” he gave Killer a lop-sided grin, “go meet your new brat and be gross with Y/N.”

Even through the mask, Killer’s grin could be felt, “Thanks.”

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deltas-writing-corner · 4 years

Text

Warmth: Act 1 - 13

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Disclaimer: This is only the first 1000 words of the chapter. If you would like to read the rest, click here!

Warnings: none

Masterlist: (coming soon)

You stayed in bed the rest of the day. Mai and a few of the maids came in to check on you and express their joy at your awakening, but you couldn't reciprocate their sentiments as well as you would have liked to. Just as you start to think of a way to repay the girls for helping you out earlier, a muffled thud makes you spring out from underneath your covers to see what it was. It was only Ranmaru, who was kneeling down by your bed.

"Did I wake you?" he whispers.

"No," you answer, sitting yourself up and stretching out your stiff body real quick. "Don't keep me in suspense. Has he made up his mind?"

"He asked me to escort you to his quarters. I made sure to check the area for anything that would indicate a trap being set, but the place is clean. It seems he's willing to just talk with you."

“Good,” you sigh. That’s one matter less to worry over. “Thank you for double checking everything for me.”

He shakes his head and looks up at you with a soft smile. "It's no problem, my lady. This is the least I can do for you."

He helps you onto your feet and begins leading you by the hand. You make sure to keep your grip tight and follow his lead with precision. The last thing you want is to not only get caught out of your room, wide awake, but for him to get into trouble for helping you out. Thankfully, the two of you find yourself at the familiar manor in no time. He leads you to the back, where Mitsuhide's room is presumably at.

“He’s in there.” Ranmaru points towards a pair of doors. A flickering yellow hue finds its way through the miniscule crevices of the sliding doors, indicating that someone is present in the room. “Are you alright?” he suddenly asks you.

You hadn’t realized that your body began shaking, nor of the fact that your breathing has stopped entirely. You can feel each beat of your heart within the front of your head, down to the tips of your fingers and bare feet. Strangely enough, this midnight meeting is even more panic inducing than the skirmish you were brought out to. You had nothing to lose then, being immortal an all, unlike now.

Your very survival is on the line here. Kuro, your most trusted ally and brother, is gone. He isn’t here to squeeze your neck and reassure you in his typical blunt manner. He isn’t here to sink his teeth into the back of your hand and tell you to shut up and stop overthinking. At least back then, when the two of you were enemies, his lingering presence always reminded you that you were never alone. Even with Ranmaru standing right next to you, firmly holding and stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, you can’t help but feel so cold.

For the first time in 300 years, you feel so alone.

However, you are alone for a reason. Mitsuhide is alive for a reason. Kuro would have injected every ounce of his venom in him if he didn’t have faith in you. He sacrificed his body and held back because he believes you are capable of taking charge of the situation and turning it towards your advantage like you did many times before, in this life and the last.

He believes in you now, just as he did back then.

Your hand shoots up towards your face and you bite down on the back of your hand hard enough to draw a bit of blood. Ranmaru flinches at the sudden action, but he’s shocked completely still at the crazed, determined look in your eyes even within the blanket of darkness. A trail of saliva and blood stays connected to your lips when you pull back until you wipe it away with your sleeve. You take a breath in, hold it for a few seconds, and then release it out.

“Ranmaru,” your voice suddenly takes on a commanding tone despite it being hushed. “I need one more favor from you.”

He can see that you’re still scared shitless, but ready to face whatever it is that lies ahead of you once you open those doors. You have earned his respect and gratitude too many times to count. Somehow, you’ve earned it again despite having never lost it before.

He lets go of your hand and takes a full step back before lowering himself onto one knee and bowing his head to you. A symbol of his respect for you. “What do you need from me?”

“Go away.”

Your command, although simple, completely throws him off. Before he can question you or ask for further clarification, your hand finds its way under his chin and lifts his head up to look at you. You're looking at him as if nothing was ever wrong, like you weren’t freaking out just moments ago. His tongue swells up with uneasiness when you begin to pat and brush the top of his head like one would an innocent child.

“While I have every intention of making that white-haired rat kiss the very ground I step upon by the time the sun rises, I can’t take any more risks from here on out. In case things don’t go as planned, I need you as far away from here as possible.”

“I-It’s alright!” he frantically brushes off your concern. “No matter what happens tonight, I’ll stick by your side-”

“No,” you sternly cut him off. “I don’t want you anywhere near here, and that’s final.”

“But-”

Your hand returns to your side as you lower yourself down on your knees, down to his same level. Whatever argument he had left is silenced by your final plea. “Please, just go.” You pathetically say. “I can’t lose anyone else today.”

Your hands return to him again, this time running against the few bruises and scratches that litter neck from restraining Mitsuhide earlier. Ranmaru received these wounds whilst you were in limbo within your head. Mai and the other attendants came to your side and offered their help without hesitation despite having little to no combat training. The people around you have gone to such lengths for your sake. Such influence over them amazes you as much as it saddens you.

You will make good on the efforts everyone has given for you. But should you fail, the least you could do is ensure that no one else falls with you.

After a moment of silence, Ranmaru thankfully nods his head in understanding. You usher him away before standing up and facing the towering doors once again. It isn’t until you can no longer hear his silent footsteps that walk forward, grab onto the round handles, and pull the doors open. You’re immediately hit with warm air, a stark contrast from the chilly air from outside. Inside awaits the person you both despise and fear the most in this world, Mitsuhide Akechi.

He’s seated down by a low desk, nestled comfortably to the left side of the room. In his hands are a couple of papers that his eyes skim over, slowing down only when he happens upon something worth his full attention. When you step in and close the doors behind you, he pulls his amber irises away from his work to quickly acknowledge your arrival.

“Come in and make yourself comfortable,” he gestures towards the cushion positioned in front of his desk. “I won’t be long.”

You slowly make your way into the room. Ranmaru reassured you that their isn’t any traps or tricks set up for you, but you’d rather be safe than sorry. You lower yourself onto your offered seat and observe his room in the meantime. The first thing that catches your eyes is the small flintlock pistol almost conveniently on full display within the recessed wall. A delicate vase with a single stem of white flowers is set right next to it. Whether he meant to set it up in such a manner, you can't help but feel like you're being mocked by the weapon being so shamelessly displayed next to delicate and pure flowers.

You mentally slap yourself, or rather, you envision Kuro slapping you on the back of your head with his tail for letting yourself get worked up over essentially nothing. You move your vision away to the other side of the display; a hanging scroll and a piece of round ceramic or porcelain held up by a wooden stand. The scroll is of a painting of the moon, illuminating the same type of white, bell-like flowers as the ones in the vase. You look down to inspect the details of the fine china, but something suddenly tugs on your sleeve.

It's a fox. Its fluffy fur, as pure a white as a fresh blanket of snow. Its slanted eyes press together in satisfaction as it gnaws on your sleeve. You try to pull the damp fabric out from its mouth, but it growls and bites down into it like a vice.

"Hey now," you light-heartedly scold it. "This is mine."

It rapidly trashes its head side to side, silently telling you that no, your sleeve belongs to them now. You let your arm go limp to fake giving up to its advances, pleasing it greatly and causing its tail to rapidly sway back and forth. As soon as it lays down and relaxes, you swipe the fabric away and securely tuck it out of sight before it could bite on it again.

Mitsuhide gives a quick glance up to check out the commotion. Chimaki is snapping her jaw and burrowing her nose into your side. She's determined to get back whatever it is that you took from her that was likely never hers in the beginning. You aren't bothered by her persistence, much to his relief. The inhuman strength and soul quaking hisses of your companion before he beheaded him and the brief flash of serpent eyes from you. It was all still so fresh to his head, yet he's somehow managed to keep himself as calm as can be and called you to his room instead of outing you the moment he way away from you.

He thinks back to his conversation with Hideyoshi earlier in the day, the documents in his hands nearly rip as his grip suddenly tightens.

"It's been a week and she still hasn’t woken up! There’s no signs of improvement, but no worsening symptoms either. Even the other physicians can do nothing but check her pulse and breathing regularly. Yet even then, all of them note of a few moments where she stops breathing, but her heart keeps beating. Augh, this is so frustrating!”

With how concerned he looked and sounded, one would think it was Nobunaga that was injured and not the chatelaine. You are highly looked upon by Nobunaga, if the reports of his hellish attitude and looming presence during the duration of your initial treatment is to be believed. Surely, you are not held in the same regard as their shared lord. But in the eyes of Hideyoshi, your favoritism from the one he is most painstakingly loyal to places you on a pedestal just as high as the Devil King himself.

That was a major issue for Mitsuhide. He needed to kick that pedestal from right under your feet before you can even think about claiming the one slightly higher than your own. Normally, he would work within the shadows and resort to his usual dirty tactics. For you, someone clearly not human, and for the good of the people of Azuchi, he was willing to step into the light and ask for some assistance.

But before he can even dip his toe into the otherside, Hideyoshi says something that unknowingly halted him and forced him back into his dark corner.

"She better wake up soon. If not for Nobunaga-sama or Hisa-Obaasan's sake, then for Hayai's."

Hayai. How could Mitsuhide forget him? One day, you came running to Hideyoshi, holding what you believed to be an interesting looking rock. It was not a rock but instead a turtle shell, with said animal still inside and a bit frightened. It was one of many reasons (although silly) that pushed him to carry out his unauthorized excursion to Ise. How can anyone who is human not know what a turtle is?! How can any human not think it odd that someone doesn't know what a turtle is?!

It's because he trusts you. Hideyoshi trusts you enough to not question what is reasonably questionable and suspicious. He is not the only one who's heart you've coiled around. Nobunaga is so charmed with you that he would raise hell over your well-being in his own home and demand Ieyasu to return immediately, despite being out on an assignment by his own orders. Ranmaru and possibly every single female attendant in Azuchi not only trusts you and considers you like a sister, but they're fully aware of your secret and have no intention to sell you out.

It is because so many people support you that he felt necessary to swallow his now fixed tongue.

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delimeful · 5 years

Text

the shapes in the silence (6)

warnings: panic, violence, blood

Chapter 6

Virgil took a step forward without even meaning to, and then jerked to a stop as Roman skittered back like a frightened deer. He wilted slightly, but tried not to take it personally. He knew better than anyone how scary being suddenly small could be.

“Puff? Don’t- Don’t let them control you!” Roman’s sword faltered back and forth, face contorted with an odd mixture of anguish and fear.

Virgil narrowed his eyes, casting a glance at the Dragon Witch. Control him? As if. Roman was tiny, in danger, and afraid. There was virtually nothing that could stop him from doing his damn job, and absolutely nothing that would make him actually attack Roman.

Meters away, the Dragon Witch shifted impatiently. “I said, give the prince a taste of what dragons are really like, runt.”

Once again, the compulsion to move, to rend and tear, filled his mind for a heartbeat before being shunted away at the speed of light. He’d have to be a jackass to make this work, but he’d already proved himself capable of that in the name of protecting his people.

A beat late, he started forward again, his gait now distinctly menacing. He thought of what could have happened if the Dragon Witch had used this spell on Roman when he was alone, and a low growl started up in his throat. Roman’s face crumpled as he started taking careful steps back, sword raised in a barely-steady hand.

“Puff, please. Don’t make me fight you.” He pleaded, raising his other hand defensively. Virgil continued to move, matching the prince’s retreat step for step.

Until Roman stumbled over a stray branch, his sword dipping slightly for a moment, and Virgil lunged.

That sword wasn’t all for show, of course, and Roman lashed it at him as he knocked the small side over, but with all the adrenaline flooding his system he had no idea whether the blow had landed. Didn’t really matter. He ducked his head down, and carefully latched his teeth onto the back of that cheesy outfit, lifting him up like a scruffed kitten with ease.

The moment he was sure Roman was secure in his grip, he bolted, sprinting away for all he was worth. Behind them, a startled and then enraged shriek came from the Dragon Witch, but if there was one thing he knew, it was how to hide.

He ducked between the long shadows cast by the late afternoon sun, mind set on finding a secure place to hide and nothing else. It could have been minutes or hours before he found the small cave carved into the wall of a cliff face, but all that really mattered was that he had found it.

Clawing up the small jump to get into it, he made sure it was deep enough to hide them from view before finally releasing the death grip he had on Roman. He immediately switched gears to sniff at him instead, searching out any possible injuries.

The tiny side shoved him back, eyes a little wild with panic, and Virgil retreated. Right. He’d forgotten that he’d been fake-threatening Roman before.

“Puff?” He asked, searching his eyes intently.

Virgil scooted back to give him some space, before carefully lowering his head to settle onto the floor, trying to be as non threatening as possible. It made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable, but he probably deserved any retaliation after the scare he’d given Roman, and he probably wouldn’t kill him, right?

Before he could get himself worked up about the possibility, Roman sat down, letting out a deep breath. “You’re… still you, right? For realsies?”

Virgil huffed impatiently at his hesitance, and more of the tension leaked from Roman’s frame.

“Okay… okay. I believe you. Are you alright?”

Virgil blinked. Was he? He stood up, turning in a circle to inspect himself, and then froze at Roman’s gasp. What, did he move too fast and scare him again?

“Puff, your side!” A delicate touch pressed against his left ribcage, and his ears flattened at the sudden sting.

Huh. Guess the sword had gotten him after all.

He laid back down, feeling too crowded in the small enclave otherwise, and rumbled at Roman reassuringly. It felt pretty shallow, it would be fine. Probably.

Roman looked at him with a stricken expression. “I… hurt you. You were only trying to protect me and I… I could have seriously injured you!”

Virgil grumbled a disagreement. Roman was like half his size. He had scales and stuff, he was fine.

“Don’t you try and say otherwise!” Roman demanded, despite the fact that Virgil wasn’t really saying anything. He inhaled sharply, as though about to go on a self recriminatory tangent, and Virgil decided that no, he’d had enough of those.

Without another sound, he padded over and curled his non-injured side around Roman, finding that at this size, he could comfortably curl up into a ball with the creative side tucked against him. Roman spluttered at being interrupted, and Virgil draped a wing over him, teasingly muting his protest.

“Fine, fine! But we’re going home, and getting you treated.”

A loud crack echoed from outside, and they turned to see it had begun to storm while Roman was preoccupied by being a dunce.

“When… that clears up, I guess.” Roman frowned, drawing closer to Virgil seemingly without realizing. He chirped in agreement, and settled his head back down to wait. After the earlier panic, he was happy to be a shield between Roman and the rest of the world for as long as needed.

For a few minutes, there was only the sound of heavy rain and rolling thunder.

“They can control dragons, y’know.” Roman said, drawing Virgil out of his sleepiness. “The Dragon Witch. That’s why I… when they ordered you…” He trailed off.

Virgil remembered the compulsion magic, but it hadn’t gripped all of him. It was almost reassuring; despite his appearance, he was still him, not a dragon. He turned his nose up dramatically for Roman’s sake, as if to dismiss the magic as insignificant. Roman chuckled softly.

“You’re really something else, Puff. Sometimes I think you’re not even really a dragon.”

Virgil froze, despite having just thought the same thing. If Roman figured it out… He felt his stomach sink. It wasn’t even really about the fact that he was a monster to be slayed anymore. There was something new he had with Roman, with all three of the Light Sides, and he desperately didn’t want to lose it.

The moment of silence stretched on agonizingly, before Roman laughed again, a bit more genuine this time.

“It’s okay, Puff. You’re special, you don’t have to tell me why.” A pause, as Virgil tried to process that. “I… apologize for being unable to protect you. For making you protect me.”

Virgil couldn’t tell him that if this were a fairytale, he’d be cast as the villain anyways, so there was no reason to apologize. He couldn’t tell him that he was supposed to protect Roman, couldn’t harangue him for being so insistent on taking everything on alone.

All he could do was curl himself tighter around Roman, and let himself purr loud enough to drown out the thunder.

When the sky finally cleared, Roman was drooling from his position sprawled out against Virgil’s side. He snorted. Prince Charming, to be sure. The guy was out cold.

He ever so carefully lifted the wing he had left laid over the side like a blanket, and then slapped it back down on him, jolting him awake.

“Hwagh?!” Roman said, jerking upright.

Virgil smacked him again for good measure. Rise and shine, Sir Sings-A-Lot.

“Augh, stop your assault on my person, you fiend!” Roman rolled out from under his wing, sending him a petulant glare. He chirruped smugly, and proceeded to stretch obnoxiously as Roman moved to gather his belongings.

The sky outside was grey, but the only sign of the storm was the lingering petrichor. Roman looked at his hand, minuscule against the backdrop, and sighed.

“At this size, it will take ages to return to our entry portal. Normally, I could shift it closer, but… this form seems to have more disadvantages than mere size reduction.”

Virgil looked at Roman consideringly. It should be doable at this size, and there was a soft blanket of leaves and other forest mulch in case he fucked up, so…

“What? What are you looking aaaAAAAAHHH PUFF NO!”

Roman hollered in protest as Virgil pushed him forwards towards the opening of the cave, grabbing Roman’s shoulders and then launching them both out into the open air.

He almost lost at the beginning, the difference in weight making them plunge for a moment- and making Roman screech at an ear-splitting pitch- before he flapped hard, managing to regain his balance in the air.

There. Easy as pie.

It was a bit difficult for him to trace their path backwards from such a different perspective, but luckily after Roman had finished yelling, he begrudgingly helped guide Virgil back to their doorway.

He stumbled a bit on the landing, but managed to drop Roman only half an inch off the ground, so he counted it as a win. From there, they walked through to the familiar halls of their home in the Mindscape.

Roman craned his head back, trying to take in how large everything was. “I… have no idea where we are. Everything looks so different!”

It was a little funny, that Virgil was used to this perspective by now. Hell, sometimes he got a little disoriented waking up big.

“Wait.” Roman seemed to realize something. “Why hasn’t the spell worn off yet? Enchantments are usually limited to the realm they’re cast in.”

That sounded like a problem Virgil had no idea how to solve. Good thing he had other people to depend on in this form! He grabbed Roman’s sash, lifting him up yet again, and began trotting down the hall towards the lounge.

“Hey! Puff? Where are we going?” Roman called, nervously.

Virgil purred lightly to reassure him, and then began carefully making his way down the stairs. Luckily, the others were already in the lounge area, Logan undoubtedly lured out by the smell of whatever pastry Patton had been baking.

“Puff, wait- I don’t want them to see- !”

“Did you say something, Lo?”

Roman went silent and still, and Virgil realized that he was probably hearing their voices from this size for the first time. He slowed, still mostly hidden by the bannister of the stairs, and set the creative side down, watching as he leaned against a stair for support, breathing hard. He motioned towards the others with his head, flicking his ears back and forth. They’ll help.

“They… they shouldn’t see me like this. We should go back, I’m certain it will wear off eventually.” Roman said, voice layered with false confidence.

Virgil stared at him, unimpressed, and Roman opened his mouth again before abruptly paling.

“Puff? Kiddo, that you?”

Virgil twisted around, seeing that Patton was now standing at the foot of the stairs, only a couple of feet away. He evidently hadn’t been as well hidden as he’d thought. Whoops.

He shifted slightly, flaring his wings a bit to hide Roman’s crouched form from view, and then chirruped a greeting. Patton smiled.

“Hey, little guy! What are you doing all the way over here? I made some cinnamon rolls for my son-namon rolls!”

“Not your best.” Logan called out from his chair.

“But you still ate them!” Patton responded cheerily, ignoring Logan’s displeased silence.

Virgil shifted uneasily, but before he could really formulate a plan of action, he felt a tiny form duck under his wing. Patton’s eyes went wide as saucers, and Virgil looked down at Roman with his own surprise, resisting the urge to shift his wing and re-conceal him.

The three-inch figure was standing up, stiff-backed, right in front of Patton. He summoned up a strained smile, tilting his head back to meet Patton’s gaze as though nothing was wrong.

“Hey, Padre.”

#sanders sides #giant/tiny #g/t #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #dragon witch #tiny dragon virgil #tsits #the shapes in the silence #taglist soon to follow!#roman finally getting interaction with someone bigger than 6 inches lol

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sarah--goff · 5 years

Text

T.D.M Chapter 16: Lenore

Jareth never seemed to learn his lesson whenever he visited the Above.

It was evident from the greying clouds and the tell-tale uprising wind that he should turn back, turn back before it was too late but he just couldn’t bear to face another evening with those insipid creatures as his only company. He shuddered. No, he would stay out tonight.

But where to, where to? The delightful question.

"Take me anywhere” he murmured to the wind, transforming into his owl form and spread his wings, riding the wind was always fun and unpredictable. Who knows the adventures he’d have this time.

He flew for a while, a long while, scanning the land below, unsure where the wind was leading him, he had found nothing that was drawing his attention.

When he began to cross over rolling fields he was rather disappointed. Where were all the cities and busy people?

“Drat” he mumbled, the wind setting him down at last.

He folded his wings under him again, transforming back into his natural form . Well this was hardly the adventure he was hoping for.

No, no it would not do at all.

He couldn’t be sure where exactly in the above he was, it mostly looked all the same to him.

Jareth guessed it was late summer by the lingering sun but it night time was soon to come about.

He sighed, picking himself up and spread his arms to take flight , the wind picked him up, rather forcefully and flung him upwards. Not good.

He should leave, now. Staying in the Above for those who belonged Underground had drastic consequences, like the Underground had for mortals, but he shook it off, he wouldn’t have a wasted journey.

The wind blew under him and when Jareth spotted a horizon of bright lights and tall buildings his heart leapt. Ah finally, now he was getting somewhere. He tilted himself right, to survey it, but the wind carried him in the opposite direction forcefully pushing him away.

Augh! he thought irritably.

The wind dropped him without warning. Luckily his quick reflexes allowed him to switch back and land on his feet brushing himself off.

Jareth began to feel extremely tired. A wasted journey after all.

He had meant to change into his owl form, but the weary magic had instead made him the black bird. A raven.

He could scarcely keep atop of the wind, “what’s gotten into you!”.

Every now and then it would cut out and then start up suddenly making him queasy.

Jareth had to close his eyes for a second but misjudged and crashing into a tree that winded him completely and knocked him out.

He was out for a while when he stirred groggily he didn’t know where he was again. He must have spelled himself out of the tree in his panic. A storm was brewing.

Lightening struck the sky.

He had to rest he had to keep out of the storm. Luckily for him he was in a populated area.

Jareth landed on the roof tops of houses, looking for shelter in them but he could not access any, they were closed up, the curtains drawn all the lights were out, all but one opposite him.

The window was wide open , even in this pelting rain he could see right into the room . The warm of candle- light evading from it invited him in greatly, he was frozen to the bone, he needed to rest greatly before his magic short circuited and god knows what would happen.

The Goblin King hoped down as best he could with his throbbing side, managing to keep his footing even on the slippery tiles. He fluttered momentarily towards the house opposite the window within his reach.

Just as he was about to land on the tree branch that was directly outside the open window, he saw a figure’s hand reach out for the windows latch and firmly close it right before him!

No no ! He thought painstakingly as his side burned. He didn’t have much longer , he could feel himself slipping away. Jareth clumsily perched on the tree branch, through his drooping eyes he could see the candle light was still burning.

The figure must still be close by, the Goblin King found himself softly pecking at the glass of the window, just enough to get their attention. Nothing happened and Jareth used everything he could to tap louder. Nothing.

He tried again then gave up, legs giving out under him, slouching against the window hopeless when the it was creaked open a splinter and then thrown open by the wind.

Jareth’s limp body tumbled through the window and crashed harshly onto the ledge face down.

The wind died down enough for him to catch a gasp above him .

The Goblin King dare not move, fearing he had simultaneously switched back into his male body, which mortals never had a good reaction to.

From his titled his head up enough to see a mortal girl standing above him. He guessed by her uncertain look and concern he was not his natural self and was still in his wretched form, soaking from the downpour. He groaned inwardly. This could go two ways. Neither were particularly good.

Jareth’s chest heaved up and down heavily, wincing at the intake of breath. He tried to still to avoid provoking the burning pain throughout his entire body.

He heard the window close again, muffling the raging tempest. The candle’s light had since died. Jareth depended on the moon glow to show him the girl’s lovely concerned face as she hovered over him , unsure what to do. He was slipping further, faster, downwards, his eyes were drooping as he stared back at her, she couldn’t help him.

If he was going to die here, at least it was under such a beautiful view, such a benevolent creature then he had no complaints.

He closed his eyes. The end he thought, embracing it when suddenly Jareth felt two warm hands slip under his abdomen, his limp body caressed and opened them again. The mortal wrapped a blanket of some sort around him, warming him greatly. He felt instantly better, like her very touch had restarted his heart,

“Come on, bud” she murmured to him, her light voice inviting him to stir. The pull was releasing him slightly now.

Her hands under him banished the ebbing pain, he could move his wings a little now, feeling more vigorous.

The mortal placed him down gently with the blanket over him . She was retreating.

No! Don’t leave already! he thought panic-stricken already shivering again. He was relived the watch her only cross the room to her drawers where she pulled out long drapes of woolly material, shifting them on her desk to make a circular shape.

He could vaguely make out the room , he must be in a child’s bedroom by the looks of it and he inwardly sighed. Great. She didn’t look like a child, even from his small height Jareth could see she was taller than that .

It was only when she came back for him again, holding him close to her chest that he could see in the weak light the mortal had made him a nest. Oh no.

She was lowering him towards it, away from her warmth and breath. Jareth began to twist in her hands avoiding the blasted mockery for a bed.

“Absolutely not!” he cried in protest, but the words hadn’t left his beak he could only move it up and down to form them “do you think this is a joke? I can’t feel my blasted face!”

“Calm down- it’s just for a second!” the girl told him aiming to sooth him over before placing the Goblin king in the centre of the makeshift nest. Jareth scowled at her.

“Would you rather be out there?” the mortal girl challenged him, scowling back.

He bit back a scoff -not that he could in this form but even so- how dare she talk down to him

On the other hand, her hands on hips, taunting eyes staring him down, her soft mouth, he couldn’t find himself disgusted but rather amused at her tempestuousness, no-nonsense attitude.

The branch smacked the window causing him to glance away from her briefly when he looked back she looked smug she had won the argument.

“Well this is as good as it gets... Back in a sec” the mortal held up her finger to the him moving to the door. “Don’t move” she commanded steeling her eyes on him.

The girl left shaking her head, presumably to find him some half-hearted excuse for food no doubt. He took this opportunity to transform back.

Jareth rose from sitting cross legged on her clothing/makeshift bed, knocking a few things over. He cracked his stiff back with a low groan but before he could take another step he was turned back, back into this humiliating, wretched bird form.

Jareth growled in frustration, it wasn’t even his favourite, his beloved benevolent snow -white owl , instead the beautiful mortal got to see him as this simpering black bird.

It worried him though, he’d never been in the Above for this long. If he couldn’t change back into his natural form, he would be stuck like this forever, at the mercy and reliance on a young mortal girl for the rest of his raven life.

His sensitive ears picked up a crash downstairs and for a moment he thought about checking on the girl until he could hear the retrieving footsteps getting closer. He quickly re-seated himself. Blast it! It looked like he would have to put up with this appearance.

“sorry about that” She re-entered the room holding something in her hands.

She sat cross legged on her own bed, the thing creaking underneath her . Could be worse, he supposed, her own bed didn’t look anymore inviting than his ‘nest’. The mortal was pouring some of the contents in the dish.

The Goblin King craned his neck to see what it was he would have to force down his throat. He needed the strength, desperately. Beggars and choosers and all that.

She smiled satisfied, “here you go” setting the dish down in front of him.

He peaked over the rim. Ugh it was a mixture of seeds and berries. That would never give him any lasting boost.

“This isn’t the Ritz you know. No worms here” she threatened which only alight his impatience further.

Jareth gagged in his mouth “Worms! I should throw you in the Bog you silly creature for denigrating the king”

It was better than nothing but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of winning him over twice and stiffly turned his nose up.

What a night this was turning into.

The human was looking away from him at the clock on the wall with a groan. He noticed the time likewise

He’d been in the Aboveground for several hours now. But there was nothing he could do until he was healed. How long could that take? Eons if she keeps feeding me this pitiful meal.

The girl’s face softened at the sight of him, making his harshness waver for a second under her curious stare.

What are you thinking?

His heart was thudding harder as she reached out to touch him again. Jareth invited it, stilling so she could trace her soft fingers against his wings and torso. He shivered at the touch. She was smiling down at him, marvelling at him.

Jareth couldn’t resist shifting a bit under her appreciative stare. If she thought him pleasant to look upon as a dumb bird, what would she think of him as a man? He was almost tempted to find out had he been able to switch back at that very moment.

Unable to control himself he found himself bowing his head just to feel those fingers brush the crown of it. Bowing! To a mere mortal! He drank up the touch shamelessly and let out a little strangled gasp when she took him surprisingly in her arms, nest and all, to sit him in her lap.

Well now this was far more like it! He smirked wishing on every star in existence he could transform imagining the surprise on her face! The thought of her reaction made him smirk. He was well aware of the effects he had on women, particularly mortal women.

As he began to calm the wind died, a good sign that things would improve.

Jareth even nuzzled against her palm. Sleep was biting at him, calling for him, he could do so right there and then, it was the magic draining quickly, usually he could go without sleep for a day of two.

The Goblin King had never been held in such a manner he felt utterly safe in this mortal’s arms as if she could fend off any danger herself even if she was powerless and possibly trying to kill him off with the food. What the sodding hell am I even doing?

The Goblin King felt his heart wrench painfully within his chest. Not now , not now! He breathed in a short, ragged inhalation- woozy with the overwhelming confusing emotions and the loss of magic that seeing the girl in such a state caused to churn violently within him. He could feel himself unbalancing this was not good.

Her hand met his head, simmering his overbearing panic attack bit by bit. That’s it, that’s it he cheered with relief. The air in him could flow freely now..

As if careful not to wake him, the girl shifted the nest with him inside to her nightstand. Jareth opened an eye groggily to see the mortal removing her clothing. Jareth’s eyebrows raised, he saw no reason for shame or guilt, as he looked at her with unabashed longing. Perhaps not a girl after all. What a creature, beautiful on the inside as well as out.

As if she could hear his thoughts you turned over her shoulder to him, “naughty bird” she tsked before slipping on a faded nightdress and into bed, beside him on the nightstand.

“Goodnight bird, whoever you are”

Oh if only you knew! he thought wickedly.

No more than five minutes had passed when he could hear her shallowing breathing, totally succumbed to sleep.

Jareth hopped from the scarves back over to the desk to the meagre meal you had set out before him.

He ate begrudgingly, these berries are sure to be unwashed, I’ll catch my death. Jareth the noble Goblin King, defeated by a mortal girl’s berry.

He chewed slowly. Actually…it was alright. Instead of sour, it was sweet as was the seeds. These were not natural made clearly. He gobbled it down then realised now that the hunger was fed, that was his lot for the night. He felt stronger now.

Jareth hopped onto the wooden flooring. Come on, come on he willed himself. But he wouldn’t change. Oh well.

He made his way to the vanity, even managing a flap of the wing with the help of the food. The Goblin King sighed, suddenly unable to rest. The girl were far gone into sleep now, nobody to amuse him.

He watched from behind her chest rise and fall before turning his eyes to the mortal’s full chamber. What a dismal place. He could see that even in the lack of light .

Jareth gazed at himself in the mirror with a smirk. Even in the bird form, he was a handsome devil, the poor mortal never stood a chance. His interest was sidetracked by small photograph by his head, black and white of a smiling couple, a man and a woman, arms looped around another , strangers to him, but the held some meaning to her clearly.

Jareth saw the girl’s open sketchbook, drawings of birds. He was impressed, he squinted closer at them. They were magnificent, as real and detailed as he was. So the mortal is quite the artist.

She was becoming more curious now, what was her name? Jareth searched for something as a give-away on the desk but there was nothing in view. He’d find it out later he surmised.

The girl let out a small whimper then “no, please don’t leave!”

Jareth was frozen to the spot. Was she talking to him? When nothing more happened he fluttered from the desk to nest again to observe her.

She had her hand balled up tightly, distress across her face but her eyes were closed.

She was having a nightmare about someone or something.

His heart strings tugged a little and he softened. An idea suddenly popped into his head. Would it work?

He sat in the nest concentrating with his eyes closed. Come on…

The Goblin King felt a wave wash over him, when he opened his eyes he was in total darkness, the girl lying in the middle, still asleep. Good. He was in her mind.

Jareth looked down at himself, turning his hands over, relieved to be freed from his small feathery appearance -even if it wasn’t real.

He waved a hand, brightening the scene, he concentrated on the appearance, weaving the room into a magnificent ballroom of ice-white. He changed his outfit too, to his favoured long blue coat, blonde hair free and loose.

Jareth heard a shifting behind him. The bed was now gone.

“Excuse me” said the voice, it must be the girl, he turned to greet her with a smile but then found himself pulled from the dream sharply and opened his eyes again to be back in the mortal’s bedroom.

Drat ! He’d been close, the low magic must have worn off quickly.

The girl momentarily awoke too crying “Oh!” softly, even peering around her darkened bedroom but fell back against the pillows, asleep once more.

Hmmf.

It was no good. He needed time to heal for sure now, harnessing dreams should have been easy, if he couldn’t do that -he was in trouble.

Rest called to him. If he wanted to make it back eventually he’d have to preserve himself.

The Goblin King stuck a leg in the nest gingerly and then another and positioned himself this way and that in an attempt to get comfortable, pah! before giving into sleep.

_*_

The Goblin King woke , cursing the sun “close those drapes!” he hissed, faced down in the warmth of the bed, to the goblins that served him.

When the sun was still on his face he propped himself up ready to spell any goblin in front of him to the Bog, when he remembered where he was. Oh no… the tell-tale black feathers that he shifted brought last night flooding back.

He turned his eyes down to land them on the mortal’s sleeping form. Ah, more was coming back to him.

He remembered the way she’d held him and shivered.

Upon this thought the girl suddenly turned over with a groggy smile , catching his staring.

“Good morning, bird” the girl said through a yawn, hand under her head watching Jareth sleepily. Good morning indeed.

No longer able to settle into sleep, he watched her stretch, swinging her legs over the bed to sit at her vanity desk. He observed curiously as she plucked the small photograph of the mystery couple and kiss it. Interesting…

When she began to shift her nightdress upwards, Jareth- being the gentleman he was of course- swiftly turned his eyes away this time, protecting her dignity whilst she dressed. He heard her give a small, satisfied ‘hmmm’ , peering down at the empty dish smugly.

‘Don’t pride yourself you little minx, I was practically starving’ he mentally replied but he would have smiled if he could.

She finished dressing and he felt his stomach rumble at the sight of her re-filling the dish. Oh thank heavens. But then hurriedly made her way to the door.

Jareth was more than a bit shook at the immediate sense of overwhelming loss he felt upon seeing her back turned in retreat. No, please don’t go… Jareth found himself pleading, the girl smiled at him pityingly and a little guilty “Be back around 3, okay” the mortal promised, closing the door behind her.

He heard the front door slam too, hopping quickly to the window to see her walking down the street, rucksack over her shoulder and turn at the corner out of sight.

He sighed now what? The clock on the wall read 9:30, 3 o’clock was a long time away. He’d have to entertain himself he supposed.

Jareth ate the sweet seeds and berries, slower this time, building up the magic inside. He wouldn’t throw it away so carelessly again. He saved some for later.

In the daylight the room still managed to look wretched. He didn’t know how mortals lived like this. It could do with sprucing up. The wood underneath was causing him to lose all sensation in his backside.

Jareth made his way to the vanity again and then strolled across the carpet to perch on the think bookshelf. He cocked his head to read some of the fading titles. Grim’s fairty-tales, Alice In Wonderland, The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe.

So the mortal likes a good old fashioned fantasy stories Jareth smirked.

Though perhaps by the look of them they were not necessarily newly acquired. Quite tattered in places.

Jareth scanned some more then nearly had a heart attack bumping into a round box. The lid of the box opened slowly and began to play tinkling music. No no! He flapped about trying to shut the lid but the bloody thing wouldn’t budge, someone was bound to be alerted. It was only when he lept on the lid it closed. The music died off.

_*_

The door closed, bringing the house alive again . Jareth read the clock, it was not yet 3 o’clock but perhaps you had come a tad early. His heart leapt. His sensitive ears could pick up humming, a female voice for sure, but not yours.

The footsteps came closer and Jareth glamoured himself invisible, not all humans were keen on the idea of birds roaming their houses.

He sat on your bed plainly, awaiting to see his uninvited guest.

A woman marched through the door casting her eye around the room. She closed the window muttering something under her breath. The blonde woman hummed again, tutting at the array of colourful scarves made into his nest. She retrieved them, folding them up

Hmmm you shouldn’t be here he thought slyly at the woman’s creeping, the way she went through the girl’s possessions, turning over the ordered objects, opening and closing drawers. Who was this? Even though he was given no insight to her sneakings or her identity, her very presence irked him, the slyness of her actions. He should know, he was a master in that art.

The Goblin King could hear the muffled shout of the girl’s entry.

“Hello?” the woman didn’t seem to notice even when her footsteps where approaching.

Ah you were home.

He watched you burst in, startling the older woman who jumped to immediately plummeted into telling you off he noticed your eyes skip around the room, looking for me?

The woman continued to shout and you didn’t look the least bit fazed which clearly irritated her more, oh you wind-up .

She said something again and was given a tight smile promising to do the dishes for the insufferable woman, like you were some scullery maid pah ! Not in the least!

Jareth heard you call for him but didn’t appear until you sounded as if you had given up. He glamoured himself to the beside table, your facing lighting up when your eyes landed on him

“Clever bird”

The mortal immediately soothed her hand over him, explaining her absence not that he could concentrate with the way her fingers moved up and down his feathers. You were so careful, like he was a prized possession.

“My name is Sloane- Sloane Hazel -in case you were wondering” he caught that.

So that is her name.

She held out your hand as if for him to take . Had he been a man he would have and kissed it grandly but he could only twitch his head in acknowledgement.

Sloane Hazel. What an unusual name, fit for an unusual mortal that he had taken a shine to. ‘The little raider’. A raider indeed.

“It was my parents’ name. I guess I should probably call you something over than ‘bird’ ”. The mortal-Sloane-left his side to clear the mess that awful woman had caused.

“That woman you just saw snooping around was my aunt. My uncle isn’t home yet. My parents are dead -so I live here. With them”.

The mortal held out the photograph to him, “that’s them. It’s okay, I got eight golden years with them, that’s more than some” you tipped up a smile, clearly trying to hide the underlying pain.

The absent parents. He felt sorry for her, doomed to live with such an awful woman, the man he had not met yet though he guessed he wasn’t exactly dazzle and shine himself.

She began to talk about herself, making up his bed again which he graciously seated himself in, feeling exhausted from the use of glamour as her soft voice played on his weariness like plucking the soft strings of an instrument. He closed his eyes willing her to speak on.

She was in front of him, giggling which startled him ‘oh yes laugh at my stupid form go on’ but he wasn’t really mad. Jareth was looking at the soft pucker of her lips as she spoke “I’m going to call you, ‘Never’. Like ‘Nevermore’, right?”

“Not that I’d expect you to understand, but it’s from a poem this guy wrote about a bird like you. He was a bit mad, but then maybe I am too talking to you”

He supressed a groan Nevermore! ’Very funny’ but this interested him so she is well read too…

“Nevermore... Ooh what about More, like as in ‘Moore’, that’s a real name at least. It kind of suits you”.

“My name is Jareth and I am the Goblin King” he wanted to say right then

“Moore it is”.

Fantastic . But he was in no place to argue

“Sloane! Why can I still see dishes?” Kari called from the bottom of the stairs. “what did I say about shoes in the house!” she sounded irritated. The mortal rolled her eyes at Jareth with a giggle.

…

It was a few days later, when the girl had tended to his every need since his arrival, showered him in adoration, he discovered he could change back to his natural form unexpectedly.

Jareth stared down at his hand, confused how he could suddenly open his palm, a pink crystal bursting from it, when a week ago he was at death’s door. It was incredible. He was getting better.

He gave an ecstatic laugh, throwing back his head. Jareth the insipid raven no longer! But…now what? Would he just leave? Like the girl wasn’t a part of his life now?

The Goblin King hesitated looked around the girl’s bedroom, the place he had called home for the time, to rest his head, his sanctuary, would he just turn his back and leave?

Of course you fool, one part of him sneered, but then the other part thought about the delight on her face when she would race home to tell him about her day, sometimes she would rehearse her lines to him and act out a few parts, to which he applauded -of course mentally- , hold him close at night, murmur him the things she couldn’t say to another. If only he could show her his real self. Well he could now...

He would give her a gift. He crushed his hands together, closing his eyes to concentrate until the bangle he’d imagined formed in his hand.

“Hey, Moore, look what I found!”

Jareth stepped out from his hiding “hello, my dear” he greeted in his honey smooth voice but forgot he was the raven again, the blasted “caaar” that came from his beak instead, grating on his ears.

“did you just make a noise?!” Your eyes light up “Where did you come from anyway?” .

Jareth climbed on your arm, holding the bracelet proudly in his beak, hoping you would take the bloody heavy thing before he dropped it altogether. “What’s this? Can I see?”.

Sloane held it curiously for a second, admiringly even, before placing it in the nest.

Jareth bit back a growl at her obliviousness before shoving it out of the nest towards her again, hoping she would put two and two together.

The girl stared at him confused, placing it at the very end of the desk so that he had to traispe all the way there just to push it in her direction again

‘she’ll be the bloody death of me’ he thought, wheezing at his damned weakness.

“Wait” she said “is this, for me?”

Jareth let out a sigh of relief “a round of applause for Ms. Hazel!” he said sarcastically but instead again “caaar!”

She slipped it on her wrist, fitting her perfectly.

Without warning she swept Jareth up cradling him “I love it” she said to him, right in his ear that gave him goosebumps, feeling along his soft wings with the tips of her fingers, then his neck, it was enough to drive anyone mad, mortal or not.

The spell was broken when that irritating voice of her aunts called her away forcing her to leave him alone once more. No!

The door shut behind her and Jareth turned back letting out a sigh. He ran his hand across his jaw where her fingers had just been a moment ago…

He swirled his hand for a crystal , gazing in it to see where she’d gone.

“Actually, Sloane, I was wondering if you would stay home this time, you know I don’t like the house left empty…Brian and I haven’t had much time together recently. He’s been very stressed at work”

Interesting… A wave of fury swept over him, upon seeing Sloane’s hopeful face crumple with bitter disappointment. She was being let down in someway. That godforsaken woman! If he had been the one on the receiving end of that beguiling look of hers, he could have denied her nothing.

He could have denied her… nothing…

He whipped the crystal away at the spark of an idea, that solved his nagging problem.

If he couldn’t leave Sloane to rot in this awful place…Then he’d take her with him. To the Underground.

His heart leapt -why hadn’t he thought of this before!

You know why.

Jareth switched back upon hearing her ascending pounding footsteps. The door banged open, startling even him. Wrath.

Sloane threw herself on her bed, face down. She didn’t make a sound for a minute, he’d even thought she’d fallen asleep until he heard the tell-tale gasp of a sob being released. Then another and another. She was crying. Jareth’s heart broke for her. The Goblin king nudged her arm, “look upon me, my sweet”.

“Caaar”

Sloane sniffed, then sniffed again. He saw her angelic, tear-stained face, lift from the bed with a wobbling smile “iss ssnot fair, Moore”, she said hiccuping, “It’s like they dow-don’t even want to be seen with me! Imagine! Their o-own nuh-niece!”.

Sloane composed herself sluggishly, touching his bent head.

“Sometimes I think it’s easier to talk to you than to some of the people I know. Like you’re my oldest friend or something. Funny, huh? You’re lucky though, you have wings, when you’re better you can go anywhere. Where am I going? I’m going to be stuck forever. In this dismal town…” she trailed off.

It was ironically amusing. A week ago, he hadn’t realised he had neglected to possess much of a heart at all and now here he was, giving everything to her. It …was a strange realisation, to want to protect and care solely for someone other than himself. He recognised the feeling well.

Oh no this won’t do at all…He smirked, mentally at least. In a way it was a bit exhilarating, a bit juvenile but the Goblin King was fond of games.

“Sometimes I wish somebody would take me away” she murmured darkly, flickering her gaze to look directly into Jareth’s eyes “know what I mean?”.

Everything was falling into place, he could see it. He would gladly whisk her away to his land, where he would then gift her all of her dreams and cater to her every whim, where would dare to turn her away, least of all him. If she were so terribly unwanted by everyone in her life, he would be more than to relieve them of her.

She fell asleep shortly after that.

Jareth knew he had to play this whole matter very carefully and not spring too much on the girl just yet.

Blast it was freezing in here!

Sensing she was truly succumbed he quietly transformed for a moment.

He cast her a fond smile as he crossed to the window; latching it and drawing the curtains across to relieve them both of an early awakening from the sun.

He could feel his magic wearing off already, “Sleep well, sweet,” Jareth whispered, as he came to stand by Sloane’s bed, above her, he drew the blanket over her, fighting the urge to bend down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead to let her know she was safe now, in good hands, that from here on, somebody was looking out for her.

“ For I have an idea” he murmured finishing off his thoughts before switching back under the light of the moon.

…

Jareth practiced his magic every day, showering Sloane with a treasury of jewels he’d made himself ,fit for a queen. He was definitely getting stronger.

He found he could enter her dreams fully now, he could hold her and dance with her. What joys they were even if they weren’t real. Then she’d wake up and the spell would be broken. She’d only remember fragments but they were etched in her mind somewhere. The mortals often had trouble recalling their encounters with magic, but they never left them behind. She was happy. He was glad.

One night he returned to the castle momentarily. Jareth had been hoping the underground had not fallen to pieces in his long absence and was grateful that for once everything seemed to be in order. He sunk into the armchair by the fire in his own chamber with a grateful sigh. It definitely beats a wooden nightstand.

Jareth got to work immediately. He knew exactly what had to be done.

He’d attached a tag to the book “Read me”

He’d also signed the front page in his own swirling cursive writing “For Sloane”.

Jareth leant over to place the book on her bed and entered her dream.

One day, when Jareth watched her leave as she normally did every morning from sitting on her window ledge. He was tossing a pink crystal and catching it again and again when curiosity got the better of him. He followed her journey from the house, grateful to finally feel the wind under his wings. He was careful to hide , flying above her undetected.

He waited patiently all day for Sloane, sometimes peering through windows to observe her quietly in classes until he was shooed away .

Jareth was beginning to grow tired of the lack of closeness until spotted her and another friend approaching the outdoors. His heart leapt.

They were chatting idly about something or another, every now and the Sloane said something highly amusing which made the friend burst out laughing, clutching Sloane’s arm.

He felt a stab of jealousy towards the friend, solely based on the simple fact that she was able to get so close to Sloane and have a real conversation with her, unlike his reduced state.

“Guilt tripping me to share my homework that’s new” he heard her chide and the pair laughed.

“Life saver” the friend leant in to embrace Sloane.

The same stab of jealousy struck Jareth, he involuntarily glared, the emotion so strong he accidently transformed at the exact moment the friend’s eyes fell in his direction, on him.

Uh oh.

It was too late- he’d been seen judging by the way the friend’s eyes widened at him. Sloane, however had ducked under the table and missed the whole thing.

He could hear her say something muffled and once again locked eyes on the friend who was gawping at him wordlessly. With a smirk, Jareth put his finger to his lips and disappeared from view.

He watched in his raven form from the tree nearby as the friend struggled to contain what she’d just seen , he saw the friend try and explain but by the looks of it , Sloane was hardly phased. Probably just as well.

Jareth deciding he’d seen enough for today took off to head back. He was beginning to grow tired again.

The warm of the scarf nest was calling to him , though most nights Jareth instead snuck out of the nest and hopped to Sloane’s bed to lie still against her and her own bodily warmth and subtly moved back before she woke.

When he fluttered through Sloane’s open window a warm, sharp sensation passed over him.

The sensation was so strong it knocked him into his natural form and made him double over. Jareth fell to his knees, clutching his stomach.

“Augh!” He’d never felt anything like this before. It didn’t last long, it was almost pleasant but it was strange. He could hear raised voices downstairs, by the sounds of it, the girl was in trouble for some reason or another. Again. It sounded like tonight she’d really be in for it, something special was going on apparently.

“-hould be here by now!” cried a shrill voice and Jareth groaned clutching his forehead. One thing he wasn’t going to miss when they finally left.

He picked himself up to sit on the corner of the single bed, it creaked violently. Some nights when Sloane rolled over the noise of the bed often stirred him awake irritably.

The door downstairs creaked, Sloane was home. Thank god. Jareth listened in trying to decipher what was happening.

He waited to change back into the bloody bird form now that he was no doubt shot of magic juice by now but nothing happened.

In fact, he felt fine.

He stalked over to the vanity mirror , inspecting his eyes and then stuck out his tongue to inspect that. Everything was normal . He was healed.

He recognised her footsteps coming closer. Jareth lent casually against the desk, observing a car drive away down the street. He smiled ruefully.

“Moore?”

Jareth disappeared.

#labyrinth fanfiction #Labyrinth #Jareth x Reader #jareth the goblin king #labyrinth movie #Labyrinth 1986

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rcris123 · 5 years

Text

Isaac was up before any of them. And maybe to his own surprise Arthur slept throughout the night with Sebastian’s hand into his own. More or less at least. The medallion was on the ground. A light squeeze of the palm he’s holding. Eyes dart up – Sebastian’s still asleep, leaned against the foot of his table. Poor bastard; came all this way and for so little as himself...

Thoughts were all over; his forehead burned up like a furnace – but he knew that. Everything else, one big goddamn mess in his head.

Colm wanted to sell ‘em to the Pinkertons, using him as bait. It’s the one thing he told Dutch when he came back...

And Isaac. All that time he couldn’t forgive himself for leaving Isaac alone like he did. And the boy clearly ran off to Sebastian wondering where the hell his Pa’s gone. And nothing tore his chest apart more than knowin’ they barely survived another one of these...

This one was worse... He hoped, prayed the shoulder ain’t gonna come down with gangrene, ‘cause at this point it’s already feelin’ numb, itching up and down like an ant’s nest. He still felt Sebastian’s hand in his own.

He should try getting-

“Augh- Shit!” Well that woke him up. “I’m sorry...”

He can’t move. Just getting his head off the pillow made it feel like it was made of lead and like the brains fell out of the back of his skull. A light tug of the arm from Sebastian; teeth grit, air’s sucked in with a wheeze.

“Shouldn’t of done that-” Sebastian’s voice is thickened by sleep.

“Ah, you couldn’t of known.” And he still hasn’t let go. A pang inside his guts. The gang met him, that much was obvious, he wondered what Isaac told them about him. But words don’t come help him.

“How are you feeling?”

“About as well as I look, I guess...” Arthur sighed. “What ‘bout you?”

“I ain’t feelin’ half my body.” Sebastian cracked a laugh, and he tried one for himself, but the groan bubbled inside his chest regardless.

A short silence, allowing the pain to settle: “So... They let you stay?”

“Don’t know.”

“What did Isaac say-”

“I escorted him back to camp the day he couldn’t find you. John and the Irishman brought me in thinking I’ve done something to the kid.” A deep breath in from Sebastian, as if drawing courage: “He said we was lovers. So they won’t shoot me then and there I guess.”

Lips purse, another pang inside his guts and a shiver flowing up: “Guess that’s that then...”

But they ain’t lovers. Far from it. They-... What the hell was they that they ended up like this.

Do he have to play enamored now? He ain’t no actor and he rather despised pretending.

“You don’t have to-”

“I ain’t intending to.” Arthur had to be blunt, and it might of come off as rude, but he just ain’t knowin’ what he’s feelin’. It ain’t uncomfortable, just rather odd, ‘cause he still held onto the man’s hand like his life somehow depended on it. Heart picked at a gallop; he just had to say this: “Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I can’t make heads or tails of it all.”

“I ain’t much smarter on the subject, Arthur...”

“Guess we gotta figure something out-”

“We?”

He ain’t noticed how he used them words until it came outta his mouth.

“Guess there’s a we now... At least if you intend on stayin’.” Do you?

“Ain’t decided yet...”

Somehow the decision seemed to of been made the moment they put their hands together the night before ‘cause they ain’t let go yet.

Miss Grimshaw checked up on Arthur not much later, and by extension that meant Sebastian too – who got a scolding only Susan could pull off. She would of kicked him onto his feet. That’s when she notices, both of them did: Sebastian screamed in pain, trying to get up, grabbed his shoulder. Miss Grimshaw seized him and yanked the shirt off. Bandages, a fresh wound.

“Where’d you get this Mister-”

“Castellanos...”

“We gotta find you a bed. Quick. Arthur how’d you let him sleep like that-”

Arthur didn’t know, just looked on with concern as he was dragged off; and Sebastian looked back at him. Isaac just returned then from where-ever he’d been gone before.

“Pa?...”

“Someone’s hurt him...” Again.

They found him a spot somewhere by Kieran, not too far off his tent. That kid’s been nothing but kind, to them all and Sebastian too; both outsiders. It’s been fun for a while, makin’ fun of the ‘O’Driscoll’ but that clearly ain’t the case no more. Boy’s been delegated to goddamn nursemaid. Arthur insisted on apologizing. Then Sean came and chewed Sebastian’s entire ear off. Sat on a chair, accused him first, then started talking of his Da and other things of his homeland. Bedridden both o’em they got no place else where to be, so it was Irish history hours for the both of ‘em. Ain’t been so bad after a while: slept like a baby to that, or maybe it was just the fever that made him so goddamn drained. One thing’s for certain he’ll be hearing Irish slang in his dreams from now on.

All week Ms. Grimshaw and Mr. Pearson swung by often; both trying their best to keep Sebastian down. He knew the feelin’ all too well. But they got fed well, bandages cleaned.

Still Arthur’s fever ain’t subsided well. Bouts of sudden dizziness and heat. No matter how much he tried to get back to functioning like a human it ain’t seem to be possible.

It took two more days until he could sit up for more than half an hour.

At least Sebastian’s doin’ better than him. Dutch got rather sick o’ him one time thou, squawked about a wounded dog in his camp; so Kieran took him fishing for most that day. Pearson was ecstatic to have so much fish. He made a fish broth, and it’s been something he ain’t known he needed or longed for.

Both Isaac and Sebastian stood on his bed, slurping hot soup like they ain’t ever had it before. And that somehow stuck with him. He pushed himself to draw that, even if it wasn’t one of his brightest ideas, a monster of’a headache split his head by the end. He ain’t known what to write beneath it thou. Not yet.

Days pass still and the camp’s getting all the friendlier to Sebastian, what Isaac said about them felt almost like a memory and the man like he’s always been there. He was a father. He could tell, by the way he’s taken to the youngest in the camp, and especially the girls; he snuck in to help Tilly and Marry-Beth with the chores Grimshaw gave ‘em. Arthur was sure they ain’t ever got cleaner clothes. Sebastian even taught Isaac how to properly scrub a shirt.

He got pangs inside his stomach whenever he thought about that. About, well, Sebastian, and what a whole ‘nother breed of man he was. How’d they even end up in the same place. How’d Sebastian end up in a whore house! That man laying down for others... And he ain’t sure how all that’d be working; lay on one’s back, spread his legs and hang his mouth open. Did his cock get hard-

Jesus.

It ain’t like that...

No. There ain’t no denying it.

One day, Sebastian came to him. His shoulder was doing only better; at last he could move it with at least somewhat more accuracy. He was thinking of going hunting again, but Sebastian came to him.

“I saw you writing a lot.” He did. Kept him busy all these long dreary days where he was in-between ill and well. “I thought you’d have more use for this than I do.” Sebastian hands Arthur a pen.

A real fancy one: polished copper, and it ain’t no fountain pen, it had all the ink inside, and on the side two arrows. Jaw clenches. It was the first time since they held hands all those weeks ago that Arthur got that physical or affectionate: he pulled Sebastian into a hug. Man huffed against him.

How thy hell was he supposed to thank for that. He ain’t got no words. Nothing, nothing at all than a heart that drummed. He ain’t deserved any of the kindnesses Sebastian did to him.

Arthur ain’t deserving nothing...

“Thank you.” It was low, a rumble, spoken right next to the man’s ear. “Thank you.”

That day, Arthur tied that medallion ‘round his neck, the Saint Sebastian one. It had to be a lucky talisman. And he finally knew what to write in his journal next to that drawing of him and Isaac eating fish broth; with the new pen to boot. That day he went up to Dutch:

“How are you feeling?” man asked, smoking his afternoon cigarette like it was a ritual; the gramophone blaring its high pitched song.

“Much better.” Arthur replied; inhaled to gather courage: "Guess I need some days away after beein' cooped up in 'ere for weeks. Just me and the kid."

Dutch looked at him before puffing out the smoke, voice was inquiring: "And Sebastian?"

"And Sebastian."

Dutch threw the cigarette away, stomped the butt with his heel and moved closer to him:

"You know it smells of rotten business to me"

"Dutch!” Arthur got insulted plenty times but being called a fool for trusting a man he knew he could trust really offended him. Arthur can fend for himself and Sebastian ain’t no danger to the camp, just like goddamn Kieran. But that ain’t what Dutch meant. Lips purse, Arthur draws away; the remark is cold: “You know that all that matters to me is loyalty. ..And Isaac. Isaac's been all uppity these past few weeks. He needs some time with his Pa."

“Ye’r coddling him Arthur.”

“That ain’t ye’r call to make.” Don’t talk to him about parenting, Dutch. They were both outlaws and that ain’t a gentle life and not one fit for a kid that ain’t asked for none of this, least of all his Momma getting murdered like she did. “The kid ain’t an outlaw and I ain’t makin’ one o’ him. I want him to have better than I had. We all do.”

Dutch fell silent for a moment, then next he spoke his accusatory tone was gone:

“I hope you know you’re like a son to me, Arthur.”

“I know...”

They still left that day.

“Where we headed, Pa?” They barely left camp, but the boy was smart enough not be heard.

“Sebastian?” Arthur ain’t really got much ahead of him, while he reckoned the man had something to return to.

And in all these weeks he still ain’t learned what exactly happened that Sebastian got his shoulder stabbed; he only said the obvious: someone was displeased and took corrective action. Arthur could only wonder if he was from the Molly-house, or maybe a client, to say it delicately.

“Well... I should be heading back to Saint Denis.”

“Then we’re comin’ with you.”

“No-” A purse of lips, a deep inhale. “No matter what I say you’ll still come with me, won’t you?”

“Guess that much is obvious. Lead the way, pardner!”

“How the hell did I get stuck with you?”

“We have a bad habit of getting nosey.” Isaac said in Arthur’s stead. This kid...

“You’re a menace and a half, boy. Hope you’re well aware of that.” Arthur intervened; yeah there was still a smile on his lips.

“Yes, sir.”

Laughter from all three of them.

“You raised quite the son there, Arthur.” Sebastian spoke. “Knows how to talk back, but for Christ’s sake can’t wash a shirt.”

“It ain’t like that!” Arthur chucked and the offense in Isaac’s tone could be felt, not just heard. “Pa!”

“Settle down, Isaac. He means you no harm.” Father talked to son; Isaac scowled but the road went on regardless.

It took a while before more serious topics arose:

“Where are you intending to stay? In Saint Denis I mean.” Sebastian asked.

“Can’t we stay with you?” Isaac replied with another question.

“Don’t think it’s a great idea to be staying in a Molly-house of all places.” Arthur tried, but he knew where that sentiment came from. Kid got used to Sebastian.

“It’d be for the best...” Obviously Sebastian ain’t enthusiastic either. “But there’s plenty hotels around the city. The Grand Hotel has plenty rooms, you should check there.”

“And now that leads to the question of money. We ain’t the richest people...”

“One dollar per night.”

Shouldn’t be too bad, but-

“How long are we gonna stay?” Isaac took the thoughts from his head.

“Dunno. I...” He looked at the boy. “I gotta think of some things over.”

More exactly: how to honor Isaac’s wishes without leaving any of the gang behind. John’s got a family of his own, wife and child. The girls, they can’t keep living like this. There’s a few men he reckons would fit better someplace else; the young ones: Sean, Lenny, Charles, even that Kieran kid, get the boy to work at a stable or something. But it ain’t easy talking to stubborn idealistic men: Sean might sooner die than give up robbing rich folk. Well he ain’t wrong, but their goal’s always been getting the money then getting out.

Seems there ain’t enough money in the world for people like them. They almost had all they needed in Blackwater, but that’s done and over-

Or was it. They ain’t knowin’ Sebastian, if only he and maybe that Kieran kid went back to collect, they might just get their hands on those money. It could give Sebastian a life. Whatever he got hurt over ain’t worth it and he reckons the man should pack his things and go.

But he can’t without the money, and Arthur ain’t sure he wanna pop that question to him.

A sigh.

“Everything a’right?” Sebastian sounded caring, and truth be told Arthur’s been silent for a while now.

“Nothing worth ruining a good mood over.”

“We in a good mood?” Sebastian cracks a laugh.

“Would you wanna be?”

“If I wouldn’t know you any better, I’d be sayin’ you’re flirting with me, Arthur.” Was that a dare, Sebastian...

But the kid had to speak up: “Everyone in camp think that anyway...”

“In no small part thanks to you.” Sebastian says.

“My own son snitching on me...”

“But the two of you are getting along.” Isaac continued with his statement. “You held hands- ”

“Isaac... It ain’t like that-”

“I just wanna know, Pa.” Isaac bowed his head then picked it up again: “You ain’t got sweet on anyone since I can remember. And it ain’t like you gotta be Dutch, bringin’ in girls once every few years, but... Well, Sean and Lenny all got sweet on the girls in camp, and it made ‘em happy! Thought someone might make you happy too, ‘cause Momma’s-”

“Isaac... You sweet kid. I’m well enough happy just to’ave got you.” He’d smooch the boy’s forehead if he wouldn’t be galloping.

He saw that, Sebastian, he saw that smile. And he ain’t quite sure what to make of this feeling; the heart’s heavy thinking that somehow he led the kid to think that it’s his job or someone else’s to keep this poor fool happy, at the same time’s filled with warmth ‘cause Isaac was, despite Arthur’s worst, shaping up to be a real good man. The boy has a chance at a real family, if only Arthur could gift him the freedom of a steady life.

There ain’t nothing easy...

Silence falls again and Saint Denis opens at their feet. They left Sebastian at his place, while they went on towards the Grand Hotel. They lodged in.

He was thinking of ways to earnestly earn money and maybe get Isaac involved as well to try and give him the chance of a honest livin-

“Mary?...” His mouth hangs open and he holds Isaac back, pressing the boy against his body.

“Arthur...” She was just as surprised to see him as he was to see her. “I... I would have wrote you a letter...” She looks down at Isaac, whose head whipped back looking for an explanation from his father. “That’s your son.”

“Isaac. Yes. He was real young when we- uhm...” The explanation was for the boy.

“How old is he?”

“17 this upcoming October...”

“I didn’t know- I. Arthur, I didn’t think you- You raised the boy an outlaw too.”

“No!” Don’t go accusing him, Mary... “He ain’t ever robbed someone- He’s always helped people, Mary. He’s most considerate.”

“Oh, Arthur, but if you couldn’t get out of your ways how’d you ever expect him to do so? You’re so tied up in your, your ideology-”

Isaac snapped: “We will get out.” Arthur kept him down. “We just gotta take care of a few people.” His son’s sounding more and more adult by the moment.

Mary looked at Isaac most shocked, a hint offended, then back at Arthur: “I’m sorry, Arthur... I see it now, no matter how much I still think of you, it would never have worked between us.” Arthur pins Isaac down when the boy tried to speak up again, shooting a glance back at his father with irritation. “You’ve been lying to yourself and your brought up your son to think the same! You think this ends somewhere? If it does, then change something, Arthur-”

“Don’t you speak to my Pa’ like that.” Isaac growled.

“Isaac.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur... I... I have to go now.”

Mary passes by them and trots downstairs. Arthur inhales deeply.

“C’mon. To our room.” A gentle nudge, and of course the boy picks up on the shift in his voice, the way the tone lowered and got drained of it’s usual sarcasm.

“Pa’, you can’t let people, that know nothing of us, speak to you like she did. It’s unfair.”

“People ain’t always fair, Isaac.”

“But you cared for her. She should have been.”

“Ain’t you getting your lil’ head wrapped up in some drama it ain’t supposed to be in?”

“You loved her, Pa, didn’t you...”

“Long time ago. Yes. You were real young.” Arthur sighs, opens the door to their room and steps inside after Isaac. “She couldn’t compromise and I couldn’t neither; ‘cause I was an outlaw.”

“But you tried.” Isaac sat on the edge of the bed. “I know you did.”

Arthur sits beside him: “That ain’t meaning I did my best...”

“I ain’t no outlaw.”

Arthur drags the boy onto his lap and presses a kiss on his back: “No, you ain’t.” A hand goes to comb that always messy hair of his: “You got gentleman material about you. You’ll be a great man, a great husband. Don’t let me stop you.”

Isaac shifts in his father’s embrace to wrap his arms around him.

“We gonna get out. And it ain’t only gonna be me.”

That’s a big dream, son...

Night fell. He couldn’t sleep, but Isaac found it soon enough, sprawled on the expensive bed. Instead Arthur found himself on the narrow balcony smoking a cigar; cause just a lil’ bit of tobacco won’t do right now.

Mary just had to come in and make it all the more complicated – well, more like heartbreaking. At one point he dreamed, he really dreamed that he could be a husband to her, and her a mother to his son. But there was no way that was ever goin’ to happen, just ‘cause he is who he is. And how can he blame her and say he ain’t at fault that he’s an outlaw that can’t leave the life.

He should of left now, with Isaac for his sake. And he really wanted to. But it ain’t that easy. Arthur ain’t alone out there; John, Abigail, Jack, they’re going through the same struggles as him. They need a way out too. And if Arthur just left the guilt’ll follow him to his grave. Him and John grew up almost like brothers, annoying and dumb as he was Arthur cared ‘bout him, but mostly about his family, ‘cause the moron became a father almost entirely by accident.

And it wasn’t like Arthur became a father by design.

He can barely remember Eliza’s face. He saw her few times...

The cigar was reaching its end...

He left the balcony after the butt was thrown away. A hand goes in the satchel to grab a bottle of whatever liquor he had in there. And it all went down his throat in one go. Then Arthur went out the door, downstairs and out into the street.

He thought back to Sebastian-

He found a few more bottles of alcohol on himself. He stumbled half drunk into the brothel:

“Hi there mister-” language is slurred. “Hav’you seen Sebas-”

“Arthur?” he climbed downstairs, barely in a shirt and suspenders.

“Sebastian!” a big smile, a stumbled forward.

They more or less landed in each other’s arms. The lil’ saloon was quite busy tonight-

“You drunk, friend?”

“Just a lil’ tipsy.” And kind of missing a friend, hey- did Sebastian just call him friend...

“How’s Isaac?”

“Asleep- Can I talk to you ‘bout something-”

“Anytime.”

A hand lands heavy on Sebastian’s chest and stays there, fingers finding their way underneath the suspenders; head bows:

“I met Mary today.” He doesn’t know who Mary is, Arthur. “Mary’s- You see, I loved her a long time ago. I missed her so long.” Sebastian’s body stiffens. “I met Mary today an’ I made a fool o’myself... Said I wouldn’t- couldn’t change. And Isaac’s... Isaac’s told her off-”

“Sebastian, take him upstairs!” the bartender shouted.

“It ain’t like that!” Arthur shouts back at the man, returns his head to Sebastian soon after- “I ain’t wanting sex-”

He guesses he just wants a companion.

“Come outside with me.” Sebastian drags him outside, more or less pulling him on the hand; Arthur follows.

“Sebastian- I ain’t got ‘nough words to, just, thank you- Oh, I’m afraid you caught a fool...”

“At least you ain’t a moron.”

Arthur laughs: “Guess I got that...”

“I was thinking you got more than that...”

He’s not sure what he was alluding to: “You?”

“What?”

Voice gets low and raspy: “Do I got you?...”

It ain’t that cold out, but there’s goosebumps raised on Sebastian’s arms. The man looks down; a pause:

“You’re wearing it-”

“You saved me countless times, I-”

“I didn’t bring you back when Isaac needed it.”

“But that ain’t the point! You saved me.”

“You have any idea what place you pulled me from.” Sebastian grabs the collar of his shirt and brings him closer. “Those three weeks in the camp were the most pleasant since-”

“Don’t think ‘bout that-”

Sebastian’s head drops again, fists pull Arthur closer and he just leans in. “I ain’t no Saint.”

“Like that’s what we’re meant bein’. I’m an outlaw for Chrissakes...”

A bitter laugh bubbles out of Sebastian: “Maybe I should be one...”

“And I who though we were tryinna become more upstanding citizens.”

“We... We.” His fists clench in Arthur’s shirt. “You still ain’t told me what you’re wanting to talk about.”

“Do I gotta ask again, goddamnit-” He’s feeling light on his feet. “What’s it with you? Do I. Got you.” He leans into Sebastian.

Silence. Bent over each other on the side of the road, Sebastian’s fists into his shirt, Arthur’s arms at ease beside his body, breath stinking of all sorts of cheap alcohol they just sit like that, like some broken down statue that you can’t tell what’s was ever meant to represent.

It’s a strange feeling bubbling in his gut, sweet and sour, tastes and burns like bourbon on his tongue; the more he sits like this the warmer his insides become, his palm, his temples, and heart starts beating like a drum, heavy. He remembers Mary for some reason... An electric shiver runs through his body, from the chest down, into his guts.

Arms lift at last, place themselves on Sebastian’s waist. Head dips up and closer in. He only catches the sound of a breath cut short when his lips press onto the other’s neck, just above the collarbone.

Retreat came quick.

Sebastian tilts his head away from where Arthur kissed, as if ashamed, as if allowing him for more.

Silence once again until Arthur couldn’t handle him looking at him like that, hair swept to the side of his face, eyes half lidded and expecting.

“That’s what I am to you?” Arthur speaks up at last.

“If you want that...” Sebastian’s lips tremble.

“Dunno what I want.”

“You seemed pretty convincing to me-”

The second one is ravenous, mouth presses wide and wet onto Sebastian’s neck, lips draw skin beneath them, then teeth. He moaned.

Arthur pulls away, startled, until bodies are no longer together. Breath is quick and shallow. He looks away. So does Sebastian, but his gaze quickly returns:

“Anything you want to take upstairs?”

The word that bubbles in his mouth is different that what his mind’s thinking, but lips purse and he’s got the notion that he has to weigh the heaviest feeling: that part of him wants this. Sebastian cares...

His name dangles from his neck, and his pen in his pocket.

“Yes.”

#rdr2 tag #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #sebastian castellanos #isaac morgan #sebthur #mary linton #WE L L THINGS HAPPEN THIS CHAPTER

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apex-academy · 5 years

Text

Chapter 3: Down Down Down and the Flames Went Higher (#15)

Kaichi still hasn’t found anything useful by the time we finish breakfast. He didn’t seem to have much written so far, so I won’t get my hopes up. Either way, there’s not much use sitting around in here when we’re all done eating.

Aware of this, Itsurou steps to the front of the room and claps his gloved hands together.

“If you all would leave your plates where they are, I shall be happy to clean up.”

“Ah, allow me to help.”

“No, no, ‘tis fine. The glasses appear to be rather fragile...”

Several people look at Tsunyasha.

“?”

“...so I’d prefer to have as few people attempting to squeeze past each other in the kitchen as possible.”

“I suppose...?”

Mahavir looks at his dirty dishes like he’d be abandoning a child. Tamiko, meanwhile, seems much less upset.

“Thanks, hon! ‘Preciate it.”

“No, thank you girls for the meal!”

“Yes! Thank you terribly, mis amores. I’ll have to find some way to repay you...”

“I’m sure I can make it worth your while.”

“Okay...”

Yuki, no.

People start to filter out as Itsurou zips around collecting plates and glasses. Some hang around the hallway to chat, but I’d rather stretch my legs. Maybe I’ll hop over to the aerobics room. Maybe bring the fire extinguisher.

“Or, actually...”

I’ll give the art room another try. I can see a little better now, so maybe it won’t be so hard to get a look. Just have to see if I can do it without drawing undue attention.

I head for the art room door and lay my fingers on the handle.

“.......”

I stay frozen longer than I should. It’s just my imagination. She’s gone. I know she’s gone. If there’s a secret message or something in here, I have to check it out.

I open the door with my breath held. The corpse hasn’t suddenly returned. Everything else looks the same.

“.........”

“Okay. It was supposed to be...”

I turn on the light, but nothing happens. Besides the lights turning on, at least. With that, I make my way to the pottery wheels and the damaged wall behind them. Guess I could have asked Itsurou for more details, or if he’s checked it out himself already. He’s a little busy, though.

Stepping over clumps of plaster, I peer at the outer wall. After a while of searching the goopy-looking mortar, I find that weird wire.

It’s not far from the dumbbell and other pieces of the machine that never got cleaned up. If I need an excuse for being in here, I can just say I was fetching those.

“That is odd, though.”

The coating of the wire running along this wall has several gaps, but this part of it is completely bare. Did current run through here, or is all of this part of some abandoned prototype?

“...”

Didn’t we use something like this for the rust traps, too? Maybe not exactly, but... If a current can help break down steel, surely there’s some way to apply that to mortar. Did Aidan figure out a way to make it work? That would have broken rules, but if he disguised it as part of the murder machine, maybe Monochap would turn a blind eye to it?

I’m also just below the cameras in this room, and I can’t see any more in the sort-of crawlspace. Could this stretch of wall be a blind spot? Is this really the reason...

“...If he knew it would work, he wouldn’t have used the machine.”

So it’s nothing certain, but it was worth a shot? Better than any ideas I’ve got right now.

I hold my hand over the bare wires, but I don’t feel my hair stand on end. Since the pottery wheel isn’t spinning anymore, I’m sure this part’s off, too. I still avoid the wires themselves as I press my fingertips to the brick. It’s cool to the touch.

Am I sure this really is the outside wall? It would be strange, but maybe there’s another layer beyond it. Then again, I don’t think Rule #8 would have been written like it is if we couldn’t actually get to the outside wall.

I take a deep breath and push on the brick. A sharp scraping sound makes me flinch. It doesn’t look like anything’s changed, but...

“...”

My hands tremble, but there’s no sign of Monochap. I push a little harder.

More scraping.

“...!”

It stopped there, but if I just put a little more oomph into it, then maybe...!

Wait. There’s no point knocking it out right now if Monochap might find it before I can do anything with the gap. And I don’t have the flare. Crap, where even is it? Arthur’s study hall?

I straighten up, kneel again, grab the plaster-dusted baseball for an excuse, and hastily walk out. Guess I’m going to the gym first if I’m going to convince anyone I’m not up to anything. I run into Tsunyasha on the stairs, but she doesn’t ask questions. I’ll take it.

I drop off the baseball and zip to Arthur’s study hall.

Unlocked, as usual. It takes me a few deep breaths before I can pull the door open.

“Whoa! Kakumi!”

I jump back. In retrospect, I shouldn’t be surprised he’s here. But then again, he isn’t alone.

“What, somebody crashin’ the party?”

“Am I interrupting something? These doors can lock, you know.”

“Really?! Incredible!”

“We’re just hangin’ out, though.”

“Yea, ain’t much of a date if ya just let anybody crash it.”

Arthur laughs before turning back to me.

“What’s up, mate?”

“Oh, I...”

Do I trust them enough to let them in on this? Maybe not quite that much.

“Do you still have any road flares in here? I wanted to try something.”

“What, makin’ your own fireworks?”

“More or less...”

“Do I?”

“I’ll look around.”

“Thanks.”

I hang back awkwardly in the doorway as Arthur shuffles through all the junk in his room. I can’t remember if Aki brought the flare back, or whatever else could have happened to it. But it won’t surprise me if this hunt takes a while.

I try not to sneak glances at the cameras. It’s hard to fight the urge, but checking won’t tell me anything. It would just tell anyone watching that I’m acting suspicious today. Not what I want.

“Dunno how many you were lookin’ for, but I found one, at least.”

“That’s plenty. You don’t mind?”

“Not at all!”

He hands it over.

“I’m not gonna be gettin’ into any roadside trouble anytime soon, so.”

Tamiko gives me a nod.

“If you figure out any good pyrotechnics, lemme know, all right? Might be good for the concert.”

“Sure thing.”

I bid them goodbye and slip out of the room. Maybe I should be concerned they don’t care about me setting the building on fire, but then again, we’re talking about Arthur. And Tamiko seems... distracted somehow.

I let out a breath and step into the art room. I’ll only have one shot at lighting this thing, so I'll wait until I hear a plane overhead. Right? There aren’t any highways nearby, and we’re not that close to shore, so that’s the only thing that could really notice the flare.

And if I’m caught damaging the exterior wall... Well, the rules are pretty darn subject to change. I’m sure I can find a loophole somewhere if this spot isn’t as blind as I’d hoped.

“...”

I sit, my back against the first pottery wheel, and examine the road flare for instructions. It has its own built-in matchstick kind of thing. Not too hard to figure out.

I don’t know how long I have to wait. Biding my time elsewhere isn’t a great plan. I wouldn’t have much of a window to get back in here if I hear engines. Guess I’ll do something artistic.

I’ve only just cleaned off some table space for a fresh sheet of paper when I freeze.

“That...”

I shoot a glance at the door, but it doesn’t move. Something could be happening upstairs, but I doubt it would sound this similar to a plane passing overhead.

I sidestep to the loose brick and grab the flare. Here’s hoping I haven’t missed anything that’s going to get me punished for my efforts.

Okay! I’ll push with as much force as I can!

“Hnngh...!”

The scraping is high-pitched but quiet. The brick comes to a stop. It’s still not even halfway out. I huff and try again. Nothing. The dull roar overhead grows louder.

“Dammit!”

I try a kick, but the toe of my boot doesn’t fit in there well. I reach for the five-pound weight and rip it off the stupid string. The head of the weight is small enough to fit in the recess. I set it up and give the other end a solid kick. I don’t know if the brick moves, or if the metal is just making the scraping noises against it. If anything budges, it’s not by much. Definitely not enough to toss the flare out.

Are the engines getting quieter? How much time do I have before they're gone?

“Augh!”

I try more kicking and then just slam the dumbbell into the wall. Red crumbles fly off, but the brick holds its position. The noise overhead fades.

I nearly throw the dumbbell to the floor in frustration before stopping myself. If I do anything in view of the cameras, I’m screwed. I might be screwed already after all that noise.

“...”

Let’s just run this back to the stupid weight room before Monochap decides to crash the party. I grab the part of it you’re actually supposed to hold and hurry over. Otoya’s not in here today, so no problems getting it to the weight rack. It clanks onto the rails with sad finality.

“....................”

Guess dissolving a little mortar isn’t going to break all of it down. Or just enough of it. Can’t say we didn’t try. But...

Dammit.

[BACK] [NEXT]

#apexplot #apex3 #fangan #selfnote

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lucifer-lacroix · 6 years

Text

Strawberry Chapter 1 (Rewrite)

Arthur X OC RDR 2 Fanfiction, Romance, Action, Mystery.

"I decided to take a ride out of blackwater on my own for a while. Hosea has been riding me all week about getting into trouble at the saloon again, guess I should not have had that third bottle of whiskey. I thought it best to disappear till things cool down. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells around them since they are trying to cook up some big plan and they compared me to a bull in an antique shop. I heard up Mount Shann there is a bald eagle or two nesting near the top. I have never seen one before, so maybe I might get lucky and shoot one out of the air or... at least get a sketch of it and some feathers. Who knows. Strawberry is a beautiful town, and I am enjoying the scenery up here. The stable is well built with wooden carvings and statues around the property. Someone is either pretty wealthy or handy with small tools."

The blonde man known as Arthur Morgan scribbled into his leather back journal a picture of the Gate to Strawberry, he sat on the back of a Grey and White Arabian horse which grazed on the pile of hay inside a trove. The pair were sheltered from the rain at a nearby stable down the road from the small town of Strawberry. Arthur was dressed in a white bison leather coat as well as having a wolf pelt draped over his shoulders. It was a wet afternoon, and the sun shone high in the sky breaking apart the rain clouds which had just finished their storming, though the distance dark thunder clouds were still looming in the distance. His worn and torn green hat tipped low over his eyes casting a large shadow over his face as people walked by paying him little mind as they went about closing up the stable for the evening. After the rain calmed to a spit, he folded up his journal and tucked it away into his satchel, He shook out his fur cowl of any last remaining droplets of water and dusted off his sleeves. He reared the horse back away from her food, and she honked disapprovingly having been interrupted during her snack. "Hey, now Princess lets get moving there will more once we arrive at the hotel." He said patting her neck as she pranced in the spot shaking her wet mane. He leaned back and eased her to turn around slowly. He clicked his tongue on his teeth and gave her a squeeze with his thighs, and she pushed forward heading back for the road and up the hill. The short walk made harder for the steed from the extra weight of a buck carcass hanging off her rear. Behind them, a mule was following close on their tail led by a single rope tied onto Princess's saddle. He too was carrying a buck much larger than the other, and he was trotting along behind happily honking once Arthur looked back to him with a smile. "Good boy." He said and tugged the rope so the Mule would follow closer to him on his left. As they crested the hill, they entered a bustling town with muddy streets. Carts and horses had gotten stuck in the mud from the sudden burst of rain which had flooded the dirt streets, there were crowds gathered trying to pull people out of the mud, and the main thoroughfare was a dangerous zone for travellers. Arthur dodged his two mammals around the long way and through the shallow mud avoiding the thick areas and brought them to the closest hitch he could find. The cowboy dismounted and hitched them up positioning the Arabian along with his mule and secured them together on the post. As he approached the butcher counter no one was attending it as a group of people were gathered in the street around some commotion currently blocked from his view by a carriage stuck in the muck. He walked towards the crowd curiously and heard two women fighting, their screams of anger shrill and loud echoing around the group that had gathered. As he was but a few steps away, the people cheered loudly as a loud smash of wood was heard, and he dodged a flying piece of wood which smacked someone else in the face — quickly turning back to see where the projectile had come from. There were two women in a pit of mud covered head to toe wrestling each other, pulling hair and screaming like banshees. "You lying bitch! That was my momma's ring, and I'll be damned if I will see it on your whore of a finger!" The first girl said screaming, her dark brown hair a muddy mess tangled and knotted as the woman she was fighting was currently bending her over using her hair as leverage over her. Her clothing was slick with pale brown mud revealing much of her figure to the crowd, the dress was torn and shredded at the sleeves, and she was currently at the others mercy. "I bought it with my own money, take it up with the jeweller! I paid for it!" The red-headed woman holding her down said with a mighty voice and a scowl on her face currently in control of the fight. She too was slick with the pale brown mud and her red expensive corseted dress was splattered with muck, she was struggling in the dirt under the constraints of the skirt and heels, but for the moment she had things under control. There was a broken bucket beside them on the ground, and the redhead had splintered wood in her hair and blood was dripping out her nose. "What happened?" Arthur asked witnessing the fight now taking in the scene. He felt his chest tighten as the crowd just stood there and watched as these two rather lovely ladies fought like animals to their amusement. "That little bitch there just smashed that whore in the face with a bucket Hooheey! Fight! Fight!" A balding drunk chanted along with other encouraging the fight. "Disgusting, you just sit there and watch!?" Authur shouted and marched into the centre of the crowd towards the two brawling women. He entered the mud pit which slowed his pace and without hesitation joined the fight. As the red-head slipped in her heels, the brunette swung her foot up in an attempt to kick her, but Arthur slapped it down and grabbed the redhead's hand and pried it free from the brunette's hair. "That's enough!" He shouted and forced them apart. The redhead barely fought against him as he pried her hand off of the girl. He threw her hand away, and she pulled it to her chest panting heavily but still looking at the strange, handsome man who decided the fight needed to stop. The Brunette, however, took this moment to attempt to tackle through Arthur but he stopped her easily and picked her up. She kicking and screaming started splashing mud over Arthur trying to get past him to attack the redhead. He carried her a few steps away and set her down on her feet. "Let me go she's nuttin but a who-Augh!" In the midst of her tantrum, Arthur pushed her back, and she slipped in the mud and fell onto her butt in a large paddy of thick mud. "Shut up and go home." He barked loudly. It was clear she was the one who started the fight as the redhead merely stood there trying to regain her breath and was suffering from being smashed with a bucket. "The fact you have anything to say about me Henrietta is a laugh! You've slept with half the town for free!" The redhead shouted after she brushed her hair back off her face and noticed the blood on her fingers. She tried to move but ended up stuck in the mud unable to escape her heels. Arthur saw how she was trapped and left the brunette to flounder in the muck to assist the woman in red by giving her his hand. She took his hand and with his grip firm and solid arm she was able to pull herself free from the thick mud. "Are you alright mam?" He asked and noticed her red matching coat to her dress was stuck in the mud too. He pulled it out and shook it off and handed it to her which she took and collected under her arm. She was still trying to accept the fact they got drenched in mud, and her head was spinning, so the woman barely glanced at him. Arthur, however, studied her for a moment, her face half smeared with mud, and he could scarcely see the freckles which crested her shallow nose. Her eyes, however, were a stunning green shade inside perfectly shaped almond eyes which could not be masked by the dirt. For a brief moment, she glanced back and mouthed a thank you then held her face where she got hit with the bucket. "Thank you. I should be alright." She said and touched her nose and winced. Before Arthur was able to say anything mentioning her possibly broken nose face, Henrietta interrupted. "I'll kill you!" Henrietta screamed and finally scrambled up off the ground. Once Henriette got onto her feet she grabbed a piece of splintered wood and headed back for the woman in red. She stopped in her tracks as all the attention turned when the click of a gun being cocked sounded. Arthur had a surprised look on his face as he watched the redhead lightning quick drew his silver-plated volcanic pistol from his belt and pointed it at the brunette. He looked down to his belt and back to her somewhat intrigued on how she was able to stealthily and speedily draw his gun. The crowd stood still as everyone froze waiting for the snap of a bullet to fire. Only silence followed. A second click of the hammer and a second gun was involved. This time eyes turned towards the carriage where the fight took place. "Excuse me. I think it's time you got back into the carriage, Isabella." A third woman stated in a soft, elegant voice with a British accent. She was wearing a large white hat with plums of coloured feathers and flowers with blonde curly hair tumbling out from under it. Her royal blue and the well-tailored corseted dress fit her curves snugly, and something about her struck Arthur as familiar as if he had seen her before. She was enchanting to witness, but her angelic look was contrasted by long barreled high-velocity rifle firm in her grip. She was standing in the door of the carriage with her boot stepped up on the frame so she could rest the barrel of the gun on her thigh and had pointed it at Henrietta. Arthur started to feel the sweat dripping down his neck at the situation he found himself in since his pistol was no longer in his hands. "May I suggest," Arthur spoke and put his hand on the Redheads and lowered her gun in a gentle motion. "You give her the ring?" He asked the woman who glared at him in response. "If she can pay for it." The blonde woman from the carriage said. "I can't pay for it... but it's mine." Henrietta had tears in her eyes, she was full spirited and ready to fight, but the two guns pointed at her left her scared and nervous. "Is it worth dying over?" Arthur asked her kindly. "...Yes," Henrietta replied as her eyes swelled up. Whatever the ring meant to her. It was surely something important since her face was red with rage. "Ugh! Fine!" The redhead let the pistol fall, and she let out a long frustrated growl and shoved the pistol into Arthur's hands. He eased her rash actions and took the weapon and held it in hand more confident in the situation now with his gun returned to him. The redhead pulled off her gloves and removed a small gold ring from her finger that has a sapphire embedded into it. "Take it, but you need to cover the costs to clean my clothes, the gentleman's too." She said and pulled herself through the mud, the train of her dress dragging through the mud but she walked with a hauty march, she approached the miserable girl and handed the ring to her. As Henrietta gripped the wood in her hand, the splintered wood weapon still tight in her grip she wanted to swing, but the blonde still had her at gunpoint. Henrietta dropped the chunk of wood and took the ring back, shaking her head silently in agreement. "Now that's the end of that! Everyone can go right fuck off then eh!" The redhead yelled at the crowd who groaned seeing such an anticlimax end to the argument. They started to move on as the blonde released Henrietta from gunpoint. "I will pick up your clothes tomorrow at noon for cleaning. I can't afford the cleaners, but I can do it myself." Henrietta said and slipped the ring on her finger and held it to her chest. "I am fine no need to worry about my clothes," Arthur said and attempted to leave. "Nonsense. A Gentlemen like yourself does not get to leave so suddenly. You stepped in the middle of a fight that is not your own to protect ladies from their own squabble. We have to thank you." The blonde spoke up and shouldered her weapon. "I merely did not want to see bloodshed today. I'm glad I could assist good day mam." He said and tipped his hat to them and walked off anyway. The ladies started discussing things amongst themselves, and Arthur exited the mud pit and headed back to the butchers counter where the man who was watching the event had returned too.

A white bison leather jacket, handcrafted after hunting a rare creature in the snowy mountains was now splattered with mud and fertiliser as Arthur slugged through the mud which flooded the street of Strawberry. The weather in the distance started to darken as the thunder clouds began to grow above. What was a freak downpour was about to become a storm and Arthur looked up assessing what his next steps should be? He looked to his horse and mule and started to untie the carcasses from their backs while his thoughts were stirring. Hiking up a mountain trail with two mammals was hard enough, but Princess was an extraordinarily skittish girl, and as Arthur lifted the buck off the Arabian's back she danced and swayed in spot huffing heavily and shaking her mane. Princess would not fare well in a thunderstorm even with all of Arthur's attention, and he could not ignore his mule. After Arthur handed off to the first buck to the butcher, he returned to the happy boy who neighed with joy when Arthur came near and stroked his neck. "Who's a good boy." He soothed him as he began to nibble at his bandana tugging it gently. No one could ignore the...

"He's cute, what's his name?" A feminine voice spoke up from behind him. It was the blonde Englishwoman from the carriage. She must have followed him across the road since her perfectly clean black boots now had muck on them yet she was immaculate from any mess on her blue dress. "I call him the Duke," Arthur said giving him a few heavy pats. "I'm in love with how sweet he is on you." She said and folded her hands over her heart watching the Mule fawn over his loving owner. "He's a handful alright, always wanting attention but he is a good boy," Arthur added when the Duke snatched the bandana from his neck and ripped two buttons off his shirt at the same time — trying to eat it while he was distracted. "Hey! No no no give it back." Arthur scrambled to pull the fabric out of the Duke's teeth before he swallowed it as a cackle of giggles burst from the blonde beauty who watched in amusement. Arthur stepped back away from the mule who extended himself to the maximum range he could on his lead, his teeth still desperately reaching for Arthur as he looked at the slobbery bandana now torn in two. "I'm glad I can entertain you," Arthur said and pocketed it as she finally overcame her giggle fit. "My apologies, but I had to come over and talk to you myself, and I'm not here to tease I promise." She said and stepped back allowing Arthur the space he needed so he could finish unloading his kill to the butcher. Arthur returned to his task and started to unstrap the second buck from the Duke's once he distracted him with a sugar cube. "What did you want to talk to me about?" Arthur asked as he hauled the buck onto his shoulder with ease. "If you would allow myself and the girls to buy you dinner, as a thank you. Bella is too proud to ask for help let alone thank someone herself. She doesn't like being a damsel in distress, but you stepped in when we needed someone to step in." The mysterious blonde stood and watched him work, and Arthur could feel her gaze as he hulled the buck onto the table. A sly little grin on his face and he puffed his chest out a little bit when he stood back up. Taking off his hat to comb his hair back with his fingers as the butcher handed him a handful of cash. He took the money and thanked the butcher and walked back to girl replacing his hat on his head. "Well, I was going to ride north and camp in the mountains, but with this storm coming in and an invitation as welcoming like that. I'm still going to have to decline." Arthur said bluntly walking up to her to be direct. Her mouth was agape, and she gasped, but there was a massive smile on her face in response to the grin on Arthur's. "You are something else. Well maybe this will change your mind, My name is Lady Rosalyn Bush, and I suggest you reconsider. " She said and cocked an eyebrow at him. "That's a familiar name," Arthur said looking at her curiously. Her face brought a sense of nostalgia to him, he had seen it before, and that name was making it even more so. "A man who enjoys camping must have a can of beans or two in his satchel. Perhaps you should take one out and look a little closer." She crossed her arms with an air of pride. Arthur, now curious, did indeed have a can of beans on him, so he flipped open his bag and not taking his eyes off her pulled it out and checked the label quickly. "Well, I'll be damned. Is this you?" He asked turning the label towards her. The image of a lady painted on the side beside the company brand with long braided blonde hair and big blue eyes. "Yes sir, and that is my recipe too." She said with a smile and struck the pose on the side label flashing her brilliant smile which was what brought that nostalgia to him. Many years were spent staring at her face on the side of the can beside campfires and dirty ditches. "Then I must be dreaming if I am in the presence of someone truly famous because I sure do enjoy your beans very much," Arthur said and gave her a bow. A little guilt behind his eyes. "Most cowboys do, but I don't very much like all the cowboys. Or girls for that matter, ever since we arrived the people have been nothing but hostile towards me and my caravan. It's been a while since a kind soul has crossed our path and I do not wish to risk bad luck on the rest of our journey by not taking care of those who show my girls and I kindness. So I ask you to please reconsider and let me spoil you." Rosalyn was very stern with her words but welcoming and kind. She spoke like Dutch did when addressing the gang with a fierce intensity behind her eyes which locked onto his. He fell victim to her gaze once again this time unable to decline. "Oh alright, you can buy me dinner. Though I'm probably going to need a bath as well to clean up after that little fight your girl started." Arthur added and unhitched his two companions from their post. If he played his cards right, she might even cover all his costs to stay in town for the night and perhaps he could leave with his pockets a little heavier then when he came. "My girls start no fights, but we do finish them I'll explain later. The carriage got stuck in the mud, so everyone already went on foot to the hotel. Why don't you get those two cuties stabled and meet me there?" Rosalyn said and hicked her skirt up to ready herself to trek through the mud. Her boots already stained with two inches of dirt on them, and they didn't look like good boots to stomp in through the mud. "Get on." Arthur gestured to Princess. "Really?" She asked gazing at the beautiful white Arabian. "You're wearing expensive clothes. I'll give you a ride." He said and held the lead for Princess towards her. "Is it friendly?" Rosalyn asked and approached the horse. "She's skittish, but with me here she will be alright." He said as Rosalyn walked up to her and took the lead before approaching her cautiously and slowly. Princess swayed away from her at first but relaxing as the Lady pet her neck gently. "She is beautiful. What's her name." "Princess." "Ah, I get it." She pointed between the two animals and chuckled. "Very cute. Am I to be right to assume this is a rare horse? I don't see many albino white horses roaming around" She asked and hoisted herself up and sat side saddle on the White Arabian and held the horn to keep her steady. Arthur got up onto the Duke who honked very loudly when he was mounted and turned to her. "You could say so, hard to tame though. Probably won't be able to sell her for much if I can't get her to relax." He clicked his teeth and gave the command, and the pair started back down the hill towards the stable.

Most of the ride was spent giving Rosalyn instructions on how to keep Princess settled, with a strange rider on her back and her attempts to ride all ladylike. The horse was left agitated the entire time. Rosalyn almost getting bucked off twice when she tried to lead her to roughly yanking on the reins trying to stop herself from falling off. "Okay, I think it's time I got off now." Rosalyn's voice was shaky as she struggled with Princess to lead her up to the stable. One of the hands had to run out and grab Princess before she reared and Rosalyn hopped off her quickly as the Horse began to prance more and more, and the blonde escaped the horse. "I should have told you to sit properly, or else she won't respect you." Arthur was chuckling the whole way down riding gracefully on the back of the Mule who marched with pride now that the love of his life was riding his back. "Well, it's a good thing the hotel isn't far from here. I think walking will be safer." Rosalyn ran out of the stable leaving the horse hand and Arthur to take care of hitching them up. They were de-saddled, housed and fed before Arthur left them inside and headed back out to meet Rosalyn who was in the middle of paying the Stableman. "Give them some extra treats and a bath for me please." She said and gave the gent a kiss on the cheek and an extra 5 dollars. "Yes, indeed Lady Bush." He said and tipped his hat to her running off as Arthur approached.

"Would you like to meet my girls now?" Rosalyn asked. "Sure!" Arthur said and took off his hat as they headed into the hotel, he didn't even have to ask she was throwing money around. What was once a hunting trip to escape the gang's noose, was going to turn into a pretty hefty score if he played this woman right.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #cowboys #western #fanfiction #original character #devil in red

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ladyseaheart1668 · 6 years

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Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 6)

Description : On their last morning on La Huerta, the Catalysts work out a plan to get Alodia safely home.

CW : There’s a scene that involves torture this chapter.

Tagging: @xo-endlessmayhem-xo ; @princesstopgun If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know.

Chapter Six : Operation Perseus

Alodia

A prison chamber. Two rooms. One is an interrogation room, the other a cell with a cot and a plain, functional toilet and sink of stainless steel. Between them, a heavy locked door and an observation window of thick glass. I huddle in the corner of the cell, dressed in a dull gray jumpsuit. My head is swimming. Rourke has taken my friends. He's taken them and hidden them from me and no one will tell me if they're safe. Faceless Arachnid soldiers come in from time to time to hold me down and draw my blood, and then they leave. I am fed, but I can't eat much. When I eat, half of it comes back up again into the stinking stainless steel toilet.

The door to the interrogation room opens. I close my eyes, curling in on myself. I don't want to see who it is. But then I hear a familiar voice.

“My god! Father, what have you done to her?!” Aleister cries. There is real distress in his voice, and that startles me enough to make me look up. The last I saw of Aleister, he was betraying us, turning us over to his father. Now he looks at me through the observation window and he looks like he might cry. Rourke and Lila are with him.

“She is resistant. She doesn't understand yet what needs to be done, nor how essential a role she plays.”

“So you've tortured her?!”

“I have done nothing of the sort!”

“One of your minions, then?”

“No one has tortured her, Aleister,” Rourke snaps, sounding irritated.

“Let me in!”

“Of course, my boy,” Rourke sighs, rolling his eyes. “It's why we're here.”

I hear the door unlock. Reflexively, I recoil, pulling myself more tightly against the wall. Aleister hurries toward me, though he mercifully pauses a few feet away. He kneels slowly, holding his hand out to me as if I am a stray kitten he is trying to coax out from under a bush. I probably look like one, dusty and dirty as I am, with my hair tangled and matted.

“Alodia? It's all right. We're not here to hurt you.”

I stare at him through a dirty curtain of tangled blonde hair that falls over my face. I shouldn't trust him. He's the reason I'm in this cell. But his voice is so gentle, and I am so desperate for a kind, familiar face that I find myself drawing a little closer. I cough a little. My lips are dry and cracking, and when I move them to speak, they hurt, and I can taste blood.

“...Water...” I croak. “Please...”

Aleister rushes away, returning a moment later with a canteen. He opens it and holds it out to me. I snatch it from his hand and gulp the contents. Water fills my mouth and trickles out the sides as I chug, but I don't care. When the canteen is empty, I let it fall from my hands, curling back into the corner.

“Alodia...” he whispers. “I'm sorry. Please believe me. I'm so sorry.”

“Where are the others? Are they all right?”

“...I...don't know...”

I raise my eyes to meet his. “Where is Grace?”

His mouth twists with agony. “...Dead.”

The word lands on me like a physical blow. I recoil further. “...You're lying.”

“...Do you really imagine I would lie about that? It was a virus. Something native to this island. She had to be placed in quaratine, I couldn't even...” His voice breaks. “...Father says you could undo it...”

“...What?”

“The power we have discovered in you in unparalleled. Only the Endless itself is nearly as strong,” Rourke says. “All we need is for you to allow us to unlock your power and you can turn back the clock. Save Grace. Save anyone you wish. Save the world.” “...I don't believe Grace would thank me for that.”

“Alodia, please,” Lila begs. “Just hear him out.”

I shake my head hard. “I can't, Lila! He can't be trusted!” I look desperately at Aleister. “He's playing you, Aleister, just like he always is! Do you really think all he wants is to bring Grace back?!”

“I think he can do it! That's all that matters!”

“At what cost, though?! If I give him whatever power is inside me, what will he do with it? Come to think of it, what will it do to me to give it up?!”

That actually seems to give him pause. He looks back at Rourke. “...Father...?”

“You have my word, Alodia. You will come to no harm.”

I consider for a moment, only for a moment. Then, I shake my head. “No. Last time you gave your word, we lost Craig. Now Grace is gone, too. I'm not losing anyone else on your word!”

Aleister recoils from me now, tears dripping from his anguished eyes. Lila suddenly looks fearful. Rourke, however, regards me with pitying amusement.

“Oh, Alodia...do you still not realize that my word is all that is protecting you or your friends here? One way or another, you are going to see reason.” He clasps his hands behind his back, striding to the observation window. “But I grow impatient waiting. Perhaps it is time I raise the stakes. ...Lila. Which of the Selected do you believe Alodia is closest to?”

I look up sharply, feeling my breath catch in my throat. My heart goes cold and drops like a stone into my belly. Lila, noticing my distress, swallows hard. But she averts her eyes and answers, “Diego. Or Jake. Diego is her best friend and Jake is her lover.”

“And which do you believe could persuade her faster?”

Lila keeps her eyes firmly on the wall in front of her. “Diego. He is more dependent on her, and much less resilient than Jake. Much less in his element. Jake has a military history. He'll be much more resistant to torture.”

The last word goes through me like a knife. “No...” I whimper. “Rourke, please...”

Rourke ignores me. “Mmm. Interesting. Do you agree, Aleister?”

I look desperately at Aleister, but he will not meet my eyes now, either. “...Not necessarily. It is true that Jake has been conditioned to resist torture more. But Diego is in love with a Hostile. I believe that will strengthen his resistance.”

“Aleister!” I cry. “What the hell are you doing, you bastard?!”

“Very interesting,” Rourke murmurs, smirking. “I expect either would work. But...I have felt Commander Lundgren growing restless of late. Perhaps I will throw him a bone. Lila, call him in. Tell him to bring Jake McKenzie with him. He should be prepared.”

“No!” I try to go for Lila, but in my weakened state, Rourke is easily faster. His arm whips around and slams into my belly, knocking the wind out of me and sending me sprawling backward. I lay moaning, struggling to catch my breath.

“The longer you resist,” Rourke says flatly, “The more they will suffer.”

I slowly drag myself upright, gasping. As I raise my head, I see the door to the interrogation room open on the other side of the window. Lundgren enters with two Arachnid soldiers who drag Jake between them, shackled hand and foot.

“Jake!” My voice comes out strangled and distorted. His head snaps up and his eyes widen. He starts to struggle against the soldiers who hold him fast.

“Alodia!” He turns his furious gaze on Rourke. “What have you done to her, Phony Stark?! I swear to god if you've harmed one hair on her head--”

Lundgren cuts him off with a violent backhand. “Shut up, Wolf. She ain't the one you ought to be worried about.”

“You ought to be more worried about yoursel—oof!” A punch to the gut makes him crumple to his knees. The Arachnid soldiers hold him down as Lundgren kneels in front of him, drawing a switchblade. He cuts open Jake's shirt, exposing his chest. Then he takes the cigar from his mouth and presses the smoldering end to the bare skin under Jake's collarbone. He goes rigid with the pain, screaming, and I scream with him. Rourke finally pulls the cigar back and Jake slumps, trembling. From his pocket, Rourke fishes a small, metallic device. Jake gasps in agony as Lundgren presses the device against the blistering burn. It sticks.

“Let 'im go,” Lundgren orders the two soldiers. Jake scrambles to his feet and stumbles to the window, pressing his palm against mine through the glass.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head frantically. “Jake, get out of here. You have to get out. You and all the others have to get out now!”

“I ain't leaving you. Pretty sure the others will say the same.”

“Jake, please! I think they're going to kill you! Please, just run!”

“If you seriously think I'm gonn—augh!” He cuts himself off with a scream, doubling over and crumpling into a heap.

“Jake!”

“Don't kill him just yet, Commander,” Rourke says silkily when the screaming stops for a moment. “I want to see if our most honored guest can be made to understand her power without further loss of life.”

“Princess, whatever he's asking for, don't give hi--” Another protracted scream that I answer with my own. There's a device in Lundgren's hand. It must be connected to the one on Jake's chest. They're torturing him with it. He abruptly goes limp, gasping and trembling.

“Jake! Jake, stay with me! Please, stay with me!”

“I do not wish to kill him, Alodia. I do not wish to kill him, or your friend Diego, or any of them. But I will. If that is what it takes to make you understand.”

Jake's back rends, his muscles going rigid with agony. He's trying not to scream now, but he isn't succeeding. I throw myself against the glass, beating the window with my fists. He goes limp again, whimpering. I look desperately at Aleister, my vision blurred with tears.

“Aleister, please...he's your friend...how can you watch this?!”

“You could save him. You could save Grace. You could save Craig. You could save everything.”

Lundgren's hand moves again. More screaming that goes through my like a knife. I double over, my body spasming with sobs. I can't tell how long it goes on. The crescendo of screaming that fades into whimpers and moans. And then the voices floating on top of Jake's pained weeping. Rourke. Aleister. Lila. Asking. Begging. Demanding that I give him my power. I could stop this. I could save Jake. Grace and Craig are dead, but I could save them, too. It breaks me to see him suffering. Breaks through my resistance, my misgivings.

“...Please...please, I'll do anything. Just stop hurting him...”

“Good. Good girl,” Rourke purrs. “You'll see. It will all work out for the best. Commander, kill him.”

“No!” I scream. Suddenly, Aleister and Lila are screaming with me.

“Father, you can't!”

“Mr. Rourke, you said--”

“I can't risk her changing her mind. If she ever does, the Dog will be next.”

“Jake!” I press myself desperately against the window, smacking my palms against the glass. “Jake!”

Lundgren draws a pistol and aims it at the man crumpled on the floor. Jake's eyelids flutter, and he raises his gaze to mine. His expression twists with agony.

“...Don't I even get a few last words?”

Lundgren shrugs. “Why the hell not. Make it quick.”

Jake's eyes hold mine. “...I love you, Alodia. You're gonna make it. You're stronger than anyone I've ever known. ...Look away now, okay? You don't wanna see this.”

“No...Jake, don't leave me...I need you...”

He draws in a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. “...Malfoy, if you still care about her at all, you won't let her watch this part.”

Lundgren raises his pistol again. Aleister breaks away from his father's side to pull me away from the window and turn me toward him. He clasps me hard in his arms, holding my head firmly against his shoulder. I should struggle. I want to struggle. I want to beat on him and tear at him. But as the gunshot splits the air apart, I can only cling back, sobbing brokenly in the arms of the one who brought me to this moment...

… I wake with a gasp and find myself sweating and shaking in a hammock under Elyys'tel's sheltering branches, entwined in Jake's arms. He's snoring just a little, his head nestled against my shoulder. I shake him gently.

“Jake? Jake, wake up...”

“Huh...? Whasshamup...?” He grunts, clearing his throat. His eyes focus on my face. “Are you okay?”

“I had a bad dream...”

“Yeah?” he asks around a yawn. “What was it about?”

“...A timeline when I failed.”

That seems to bring him around to full consciousness. His arms tighten around me. “...You wanna tell me what happened?”

“...I think...Rourke figured out that he needed me to finish Project Janus. I don't think he actually connected me to the Endless. I'm not sure if he had the Island's Heart...I couldn't really remember. ...But he tried to force me to help him. ...By torturing you in front of me. Or rather, letting Lundgren do it.”

I feel him shudder. “Not gonna lie. That sounds damned awful. ...Lundgren always had a talent for inflicting pain.”

“...I gave in to stop him from hurting you. ...Rourke let him kill you anyway. So I wouldn't change my mind about turning back time. Said if I ever did, Diego would be next. And Grace and Craig were already dead...”

He brings a hand up to stroke my cheek. “But they're not, though. We're all alive because of you.”

“I know. ...But...I'm scared.”

“Something in particular scaring you?”

I close my eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. “...I failed more than two-thousand times. The visions in the idols...the ones the Endless gave me...those were only a fraction. I'm afraid of those memories that haven't surfaced yet. ...I'm scared I'm going to keep seeing you die in my nightmares. You and Diego and Quinn and Grace and Sean and Craig and...everyone...”

“Well, I'll tell you what, Princess. Every time you have a nightmare, I'm gonna be there when you wake up to tell you it's okay. No matter how many times you dream about me dying, I'm still gonna be there when you wake up.”

“...Promise?”

“You know I do.”

I cuddle up in his arms, my head on his chest. In his embrace, my trembling subsides and my heartbeat slows. “I love you so much, Jake.”

“I love you, Alodia.”

“...I think, though...when we get back, we should make it clear that our marriage wasn't legally binding.”

“Why's that? You looking for an easy out?”

The teasing note in his voice makes me think he knows the real answer, but I tell him anyway. “If we tell people we were handfasted in local ceremony, they'll start asking questions about who the locals are. Better they think it was something our friends oversaw when we were imprisoned and convinced we were about to die. ...Besides...I think I'm going to need time to...ease my aunt and uncle into the idea of you. They'll be less resistant if I introduce you as my boyfriend than as my husband. I don't think they'll believe that I could have met you and fallen in love with you in the space of six months.”

“I would say I don't give a crap what they think, but I'm guessing it's not gonna be easy to shake 'em for awhile.”

“I wouldn't imagine so, no.” I lift my head to look him in the eye. “Are you gonna be okay coming with me to California? I mean, I assumed, but...”

“Don't worry about me. I've been working in a dive bar in Louisiana. They can replace me two seconds after I call 'em and say I ain't coming back.” I open my mouth to respond, but he puts a finger to my lips. “No, don't try arguing. I don't care where we end up, long as we're together. You know that.”

I nod, lightly biting his fingertip before letting my head drop onto his chest again. “Yeah. I do.”

“...On the other hand,” he says with a grin in his voice, “I should take care to be on my best behavior, since this is officially gonna be...'meet the family'...”

I chuckle, but I shake my head. “You already know my real family. ...In a way, I'm going to be meeting these people for the first time, too. I have enough memories to know who they are, but I also know that they probably never existed until I was retconned into the world. Or at the very least, I was never a part of their lives...And I should try to stop thinking about this because it just makes me dizzy.”

“Tell you what. Why don't you tell me what you remember about them? Moments from your childhood. Your teenage years. Might make them more real to you.”

I shudder. “...Most of what I remember of my teenage years isn't very pleasant. Especially from Uncle Rob.”

He brings up a hand to stroke my hair. “Yeah?”

I nod. “...I was Aunt Molly's sister's kid. She was the one who really pushed him to agree to adopt me because she didn't want to give up her dead sister's kid to the state. She didn't want kids any more than he did, but she couldn't let go of the last piece of her sister so easily. ...He tried to hide it, but I know he resented me for pushing into his life. Much more than she ever did. It wasn't so bad when I was a kid, but when I turned into a sullen teenager, things got worse.”

“I can imagine you weren't the kind of teenager who just locked herself in her room as soon as she got home from school and spent her free time listening to emo music.”

“Not at all. Diego was the good kid who never made trouble. Or he wouldn't have ever made trouble if it weren't for me. With Aunt Molly and Uncle Rob gone on business so much of the time, we ended up with the whole place to ourselves a lot. ...The other night, he and I were talking about the time I convinced him to come over and raid my uncle's liquor cabinet with me.”

“Dare I ask how old you were?”

I feel a smile playing around my mouth. “Fifteen.”

He whistles. “Wow. You were the wild one, weren't you.”

“...I guess I made Diego do all the things he was too afraid to do alone.” I feel my smile slipping. “...I think about that night, and I kinda wonder if he wouldn't have been better off without me...”

I feel Jake's arm tighten over my shoulder. “What happened that night that makes you say that?”

“We got completely shitfaced on Kahlua. When the hangovers hit the next morning, we huddled under the blankets in my room for two days, convinced we were going to die. Then a few days after that, Uncle Rob and Aunt Molly came home. And when Uncle Rob realized the Kahlua was missing a few days later...I...” I close my eyes, curling into him. “...Well, let's just say I wore pretty heavy concealer for a week or two.”

“...Aw, shit...”

“...That...probably makes it sound worse than it was...”

“He laid hands on you, that's bad enough. I'm guessing he and I ain't gonna get along.”

“He had never done it before. Never did again.”

“He never will again. ...But...except for a nasty hangover, it doesn't sound like Diego suffered much for knowing you that night.”

“...No. I took the whole blame for the missing Kahlua. I ran to Diego that night and told him the bruise was because I swiped a twenty from Uncle Rob's wallet. ...I'd done it before, so he believed me.” I sigh. “...And...that night we got drunk was the night he came out to me. ...I suppose when I didn't exist, he didn't have anyone he could come out to...”

“Wanna know what I think?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you're the friend he always wished he had because that's the kind of friend he always needed. He made it as far as he did in another timeline because he's strong. But now, he didn't always have to be strong. He had someone there to protect him when he was bullied, someone he could be honest with. And when he did have to be strong, he was being strong for you. Because your bastard of an uncle beat up on you, or...someone broke your heart. ...Don't you think a hideous hangover at fifteen was worth the chance to come out to someone who would tell him there was nothing wrong with him?”

“...Yeah. Probably. ...It was everyone's need plus Vaanu's energy that first created me. I was born to be what all of you needed me to be.”

“And now all of us are gonna be what you need us to be. Shit, Princess, do you even have any idea what you mean to us? Not just me and Diego, but every one of us? Raj and Zahra and Aleister and all of them?”

“...If they love me half as much as I love all of them...” I swallow hard. I think of my dream, of Aleister turning me away so that I wouldn't see Jake die, that small act of genuine love and kindness in spite of his betrayal.

“They love you just as much as you love them, if not more. We're gonna take care of you, Princess. We're your family, and we're all gonna stand by you. Don't you doubt it.”

Diego

After blissfully making love, I fall asleep under the moonlight in Varyyn's arms, the warm tropical breeze caressing my bare, sweat-slick skin. In the arms of my one true love, knowing my best friend is safe with her husband within easy reach, I feel more contented than I think I have ever felt in my life.

The next day, I watch Allie, Sean, and Jake team up against Seraxa, Varyyn, and Taari in quuk'tanoi, and I remember the day the twelve of us first arrived on La Huerta, that first night at The Celestial. La Huerta felt like a paradise then. Today, it feels like one again.

Allie's team presents a strong challenge. Rusty though they may be, the three of them really are a dream team when it comes to anything competitive like this. They manage to score two points before the Vaanti team scores one. But then the tides start to turn. The Vaanti overpower them, and Taari himself scores the winning goal.

Nightfall finds us proudly watching as Seraxa presents her foster son and heir with his owl mask in an elegant ceremony. As the crowd cheers the Vaanti's newest, youngest warrior, Taari beams at them from behind the mask. I look at Varyyn beside me and notice his eyes are shining.

“You okay?”

“...He is still so young. It is difficult to imagine him going into battle.”

I lace my fingers with his. “There's not much to battle these days on La Huerta.” I lay my head on his shoulder and feel him squeeze my hand.

“Long may peace reign.”

“Amen.”

“...We have peace because of Alodia.” Varyyn raises his eyes skyward. “...My mind is still connected to hers.”

“It is?”

“Yes. She believes there is nothing significant in it. That it simply means we are who we are, each of us with a connection to Vaanu, and that our joining minds on the beach has not been undone.”

“Well...that all makes sense.”

He sighs, looking down again. “...She is troubled. Frightened. Confused.”

“Unfortunately, I'm not surprised,” I murmur. “I may not be mind-melded with her, but I know her. Besides, anyone would be troubled and confused in her situation.”

“You are right, of course.”

But his words stay with me. I find myself watching Allie for the rest of the night. When I finally sleep, my dreams are a bizzare collection of moments that all kind of lead back to the same conclusion: Allie needs my support. She's broken and bewildered, and she needs familiar faces beside her.

The following day is our last full day on La Huerta before we return to our lives. As we're finishing breakfast, I clear my throat.

“Hey, guys, I think we should talk about the logistics of getting everyone home now that we've got Allie back.”

“What do you mean?” Craig asks.

“Well, normally Jake flies us all back to London so Varyyn doesn't have to worry about security or anything like that. And I know you guys all fly home from there.”

“...Is that not going to work this time?”

“No,” Jake murmurs. “...Alodia may have an ID and passport somewhere out there, but we ain't gonna find it in time to get her a commercial flight back to the states from London. If we land in London first, I'm gonna have to fly her home myself. Which I could do...”

“The thing is...” I take a deep breath, covering Varyyn's hand with mine. “Varyyn, you know I love you and I never want to be without you. But I can't leave Allie right now. I know more about the world she's going to be transitioning back to than anyone else. Maybe even more than you yourself, Allie.”

She shrugs. “Probably. ...I wasn't going to say it, but I'm terrified of facing it without you.”

“I would not dream of asking you to separate right now,” Varyyn assures me. “I can survive without you for awhile.”

“The thing is...I don't know how long awhile is going to be. ...I'm kinda hoping we can find someplace safe enough that you can stay with me.”

“Of course if that is a possiblity, I would prefer it.”

Allie frowns thoughtfully. “I...might have an idea on that. Diego, do you know if my aunt and uncle still have the beach house?”

“As far as I know,” I reply, sighing a little. It's actually a little funny how quickly I've grown to consider this new timeline the real one, enough that I can roll my eyes at some of her family's more extravagent status symbols. “They didn't stop being obscenely wealthy when you disappeared.”

“Wait, your folks have a beach house?!” Raj exclaims. “In California?!”

Allie winces a little. “In Laguna Beach. It's a second home, if you can believe that.”

Michelle raises an eyebrow. “What exactly do they do?”

“Uncle Rob's a lawyer, Aunt Molly's a plastic surgeon. And they live in the Greater L.A. area, so guess who most of their clients are. They probably could have had a ten million dollar home in Beverly Hills, but they chose a more 'modest' million-dollar estate in Alessandro Heights so they could keep the beach house for entertaining. ...I've only seen it a few times. Most of their parties weren't exactly 'kid' parties, so I was left with Diego's family most of the time they were hosting until my fingers stopped being so sticky. But they did let us use it for both our eighteenth birthdays and our high school graduation parties.”

“...They were going to let us use it to celebrate our college graduation,” I murmur.

“Ohh, man, that would've been freaking sweet!” Craig sighs. “We would've been invited, right?”

Allie laughs. “Duh, Craig! Anyway, here's what I'm thinking now. I may be able to convince them that Jake and I need a place to ourselves. I'm guessing I can convince them to let us take over either the beach house or the place in Riverside. Then you and Varyyn can stay with us and we can all look after each other.” She frowns a little. “...Thing is, though, it might take awhile before they're ready to let me out of their sight. ...Especially given that I'm not sure how they'll react to Jake.”

“Hey, I can always find a place to rent,” I say quickly. “In case you've forgotten, I am a best-selling author now. I'm not really hurting for money.”

“I know. But if I can manage it...”

“Whether Varyyn and Diego end up at the beach house or an apartment, there's still gonna be some downtime before things get settled,” Jake points out.

“I can wait in London until then,” Varyyn says. “It is all right, really.”

“You may not have to, though. I got a thought. There's a little risk involved, but I think it may be work out.” He takes Allie's hand, squeezing it. “You've been a missing person for five years, Princess. Both Lundgren's trial and Rourke's were national news. As was the disappearance of one of his Selected. No matter how quiet we try to sneak you back in, we're gonna have to deal with the police at some point. ...My sister came across your case file and was willing to keep it quiet. ...I say we ask her help. She may be able to hide Varyyn until we can get him and Diego someplace safe.”

A hush settles over the table. I see Allie's chest start to rise and fall a little faster. “Jake...I...don't take this the wrong way, but...can we trust her? I mean, I'm sure she's a good sister and a good cop, but...with the Vaanti? With my origins?”

“I think we can. We can bring Mike in to back us up, too. Rebecca's a responsible cop, but she ain't so by-the-book that she won't bend the rules if there's a good reason to bend 'em. And I can't think of anyway harrassing the Vaanti is gonna relate to your case once she knows the facts.”

“But will she believe them?”

“With our very own Papa Smurf in front of her as evidence? I know my sister, Alodia. She's a healthy skeptic, but she's also got an open mind. She's just the right mix of wary and receptive. Besides,” he raises her hand to his mouth and kisses it. “You know I wouldn't suggest it if I thought for a second it would put you or the Vaanti in any real danger. Don't you?”

She nods, slowly but without hesitation. Jake looks at me. “What about you, Short Stuff? You've had the chance to get to know Rebecca a little. You in?”

I hesitate just a little. “It isn't that I don't trust her...but I am inclined to be cautious to the point of overprotectiveness with Varyyn. It's one thing to put him on the street in human clothes and let people think he's going to a costume convention, but it's another to bring in someone outside our family and say, 'Hey, he's part of a race of super-evolved humans who got that way when their ancestors drank the sap from an alien tree'.”

“Rebecca is family,” Jake says firmly.

“You know what I meant. ...Thing is, Jake, I trust you. So...if you can honestly tell me you'd be comfortable telling Rebecca that her sister-in-law is actually the human daughter of a crystal alien that got trapped on earth and that she's been retconned into existence after giving herself up to save the world from destruction...then I'm in.”

“I believe she can be trusted with everything,” Jake answers without hesitation. “She's the only person outside of the La Huerta sphere that I would trust.”

His confidence doesn't entirely erase my doubts, but I don't think anything ever could. I trust his love for Allie enough to know that if he had the slightest doubt, he wouldn't be suggesting this. My biggest fear is that he'll discover his trust is misplaced, but I can't deny that he knows his sister better than I do.

“...All right. So, we'll see if Varyyn can stay with your sister until either I find an apartment or Allie gets run of the beach house, or the house in Riverside.”

“Oh, please say you'll angle for the beach house,” Raj says with a grin. “Do you realize how many awesome parties we can have there? Hell, we could throw a New Years' Eve party that would top Elysian Lodge! Fireworks and everything!”

Allie snorts. “Don't get ahead of yourself, Raj. I have to get the beach house first.”

“If the plan is for Varyyn to stay in Los Angeles,” Aleister remarks, “perhaps we should alter our flight plan to land there instead. Rourke International can certainly reimburse everyone the cost of altering your tickets when we arrive.”

“I just have one problem with that plan,” Michelle says. “I have no doubt that once Alodia is officially a found person, the police and her family will have doctors all over her, testing her DNA and making sure she's healthy. If being a time anomaly has done anything strange with her body, wouldn't it be safer if I found out first? I had been thinking that I could sneak her into my hospital under an assumed name to have them run blood tests and scans.”

“...Wouldn't that leave a paper trail?” Jake asks uncertainly.

“I was hoping Zahra could help with some of that.”

“Tell me what you need, I'll see what I can do.”

Michelle nods. “There are also a few equipment techs I can probably bribe with Condors tickets to give the results to me directly and not put them in the system. Not to mention interns who will need to be bribed to let me handle the procedures...” She looks hopefully at Sean, who grins.

“In the name of sneaking Alodia back into the world, I'll pull every string I can get my hands on.”

“So, should we plan on landing in Northbridge now?”

“You'll have your choice of places to crash,” Quinn says cheerfully. “Alodia and Jake can stay with me and Michelle, and Varyyn and Diego can stay with Craig and Zahra.”

“Wait, you and Michelle are living together?” Allie repeats. “What about Sean?”

“I mostly stay with them. But my mom's place has an extra room for me, and I'm kinda paying her rent. Perks of a pro athlete's salary.”

“I see the sense in your plan, Maybelline,” Jake concedes. “Can Rourke International spare the private plane for a second flight from Northbridge to L.A.?”

“Of course.”

“Or! Better idea!” Raj exclaims. “I rent us a van, and we make a Catalyst Road Trip of it!”

“As...enjoyable as that sounds,” Aleister says, trying and failing to hold back a smile, “Grace has a show coming up in London that she has to prepare for. Besides, the longer we take getting Alodia to Los Angeles, the more likely it is she or Varyyn will be seen by someone we don't want to see them.”

“Aww, that's a good point. Why did you have to make a good point?”

“My apologies.”

“Are you still willing to let some of us come with you, Alodia?”

“Well...everything will be have to be managed carefully, especially when it comes to introducing everyone to my family. But I am happy to have any of you around that want to be there and can spare the time.”

“I can come along,” Estela remarks. “Tio won't mind if I take an extra week or two to get back. In fact, he'll probably be thrilled by the idea of me spending some time in Los Angeles.”

“I'll go, too,” Quinn declares.

“You know I'm in!” Raj says cheerfully.

“I can probably swing a few extra days off,” Craig adds. “How about you, Z?”

Zahra grins, jerking her head at Aleister. “Ask my boss.”

“Well, I suppose I can spare you,” Aleister mock-sighs.

“I wish I could come,” Grace sighs. “But like Aleister says, I have to prepare for a show.”

“...Okay. So, I guess we have a plan now.” Quite suddenly, I find myself feeling lighter. I didn't even realize how nervous this was making me until now.

“I feel like this brilliant plan needs a name,” Craig remarks. “A cool code name like Operation...something...”

“Operation Andromeda?” Allie suggests wryly.

“I believe Operation Perseus might be more appropriate,” Aleister replies thoughtfully.

“What's a Perseus?” Craig asks.

“A character in Greek Mythology. A son of Zeus, and the eventual consort of Princess Andromeda. It was Perseus who saved Andromeda from being sacrificed to the sea monster Cetus.”

“Wait, sacrificed to Cetus?”

Aleister sighs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Craig. Cetus was sent by the god of the sea to punish Andromeda's mother for boasting that her daughter was more beautiful than the sea nymphs. When Cetus continued to terrorize the kingdom, Andromeda's father decided the only way to stop it was to sacrifice Andromeda. So he chained her naked to a rock and left her to die.”

“Dude!”

“But, Perseus eventually rescued her, using the severed head of Medusa to defeat Cetus.”

“That's...kinda twisted, all things considered,” Zahra remarks. “Especially Rourke's obsession with mythology.”

“...Rourke didn't name Cetus,” Allie points out. “He didn't name me Andromeda, either. That was the Endless. ...I've been trying to figure that one out for a long time.”

“Well, no need to figure it out anymore,” Jake declares, winding an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “Cetus is dead, my Princess Andromeda.”

“So, Jake is Perseus now?”

“I think you're all collectively Perseus,” Allie declares firmly. “If my Cetus was actually Vaanu, then all of you are Perseus, because all of you are helping me get my life back.”

“Frankly, I think if we start searching for mythological parallels to everything that happened on La Huerta,” Estela remarks, “we are all going to end up with massive headaches.”

“Agreed,” Quinn says cheerfully. “We have one more day on La Huerta before Operation Perseus or whatever it is gets underway. Let's enjoy ourselves!”

#Endless Summer #playchoices #pixelberry choices #choices stories you play #Diego Ricardo Ortiz Soto #Jake McKenzie #sean gayle #raj bhandarkar #Craig Hsiao #aleister rourke #grace hall #zahra namazi #michelle nguyen #estela montoya #quinn kelly

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themightykirin · 3 years

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Chapter 14: The Old 'Castle'

It was only a short while after, that Keiran woke him. The cold winds were growing too hard and fast, and it seemed that, if they didn't find shelter, they might very likely be overtaken by an uprising blizzard. The storm had caught up with them, and it caught up with them quick.

The two trekked together for a while against the wind and snow as it mounted at impossible speeds, not sure what to do or what kind of shelter to hope for... When Keiran spotted a structure in the distance.. something that she recognized to be other than a grove of especially tall trees, already covered in snow: it was the spires of a building.

“Look there! Up ahead!” Snow flew from the front of weary, determined black boots as she shot a finger in the direction of their last hope; shelter to keep them from freezing to death that night:

An abandoned castle.

It was small for a castle, but there was no denying it for what it was. And they did need shelter.

The redhead hesitated.

“Uhh... I ain’t sure about this. I mean...!” He shouted over the wind and snow, and tried to think of some logical explanation besides ‘possibly haunted’, like; “What if people own the place and they call the guards?”

“Good!” Came her reply, continuing on without him. “Then I'll get arrested and sleep in a warm cell.” Serdtse paused, considering the place. If it was vacant, the thought of a nice glowing fire in the hearth, possibly snuggled up to Keiran ‘for warmth’ suddenly outweighed the grey dreary visions he had of whispers from bodies no longer there. With a blink, he cleared his head and realized Keiran was still going on without him.

“O... Oi! Keiran, wait up, I’m coming!” And he hurried along after her.

Once inside, Serdtse’s reservations came back full force. The large, ornate wooden door, mottled with heavy iron, made a loud, groaning creak and then echoed through the foyer as it closed behind them. 'Definitely haunted' -came Serdtse's internal dialogue. And afterward, the absence of that noise was somehow even worse; as if he was sharing a hospital room with someone... and suddenly one less person was breathing.

“K-Keiran...” Serdtse whispered, immediately embarrassed he had stuttered.

“What..!” She hissed, suddenly angry because she didn't want to admit he was making her nervous about spooky things. “Don’t be stupid. There’s nothing to be afraid of. There’s no one living here.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.“ He answered, and the back of Keiran’s hand smacked him against the chest for that comment. A huff of an awkward chuckle escaped him as he ran a hand through his wild red hair and then he followed after her. Crouched down together as they cautiously explored, pushing tattered, stained drapery out of the way, and making sure not to fall over the dusty furniture; Keiran found the drawing room. With purpose in her steps she approached the hearth and dropped her sack, and then began to knock flint and steel together.

“We need more wood.” She told him.

“Uhh... where am I gonna-...”

“The house is full of furniture; pick something!”

Serdtse looked at an old, sun washed, deteriorated chair, with vines entertwining weakly into it like a lifeline, as if something, some force, was still clinging to this place, and wanted its chair. He shook his head.

“Keiran, I can’t do that. What if it makes the spooks angry? I’d be angry if somebody busted my stuff.”

“Stop being stupid! I told you there’s no one here! There hasn’t been anyone here for years, look at this place! We’re lucky the windows are in tact. Now bust up the chair.” She ordered. Serdtse raised both hands in trepidation, looking around. Finally, he blurted out aimlessly,

“Hey! If this chair b’longs to anybody! I’m gonna use it for firewood, so we don’t freeze, ok?” He paused, listening. His head lifted like a child trying to hear sleigh bells on Christmas Eve. “...Ok??” He asked. Keiran rolled her eyes. She still didn’t want to admit it to herself, but she was nervous. And she renewed her determination not to be. Patience lost, she stood and flipped the chair over, grabbing one of the legs, and using her foot as leverage, she quickly had it off, tossed it into the fire, and began to work on the next one. Serdtse stood looking at her awkwardly.

“Uh... I coulda done that.” He interjected. Keiran just squinted at him briefly before she continued.

Soon they had a decent fire going. Serdtse began looking for a blanket, feeling braver now that they had broken the chair and started a nice warm, glowing fire, -and nothing had tried to steal their souls. Maybe Keiran was right. Maybe there was nothing to be afraid of.

“I’m gonna go look upstairs.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, and with a slight hop, he turned and began bounding to the second floor.

Immediately, he regretted this. Serdtse swallowed anxiously. His single green eye looked back down the way he had come, and he was briefly comforted by the image of Keiran, and the resonant glow of the fire. And then he continued on. The first thing he found at the top of the stairs, was a linen closet. His gratitude exploded in his chest and his voice eeked out with childish enthusiasm,

“Luckyyyyyyyy~!” Then, throwing the door open, nothing less than a pile of bones wrapped in tomb-stained winding cloth; skulls and femers and fingers and ankles; all came spilling out onto him. Dust of long-dead things he didn’t ever want to know the origin of splashed everywhere and hung on the air. He flailed in shock, accidentally inhaling the probably cursed ashes and stumbled back and cried out, being further sullied by the contents in his panic.

“Augh! AUGHH!!” He continued to flail, scrambling to get up off the ground; dust flying everywhere. Keiran heard this and was immediately up the stairs after him.

Backing up away from the bones, Serdtse bumped into her and cried out again, but she caught him and shook him a bit.

“Stop! Stop it! What’s wrong with you!!” She shouted, not so much angrily as urgently. The further they got from the fire, the harder it was to see clearly, and at the very top of the stairs there wasn’t much moon light coming in from the stained glass windows. Serdtse grabbed onto her arms in turn, trying to collect himself.

“In-... in the closet!” He started. “Sk- skelletons! Look!” But when he turned to point them out to her, they were gone. Completely gone. Only the open linen closet stood, with clean, neatly folded towels. Serdtse was beside himself. Surely Keiran would think he was insane. Dust was gone. “No! No, wait! They were here! I swear they were! They fell out, all over me! I was coughing, I-... couldn’t breathe!”

Keiran squinted at the closet, arms folded. Then she looked at Serdtse. Not sure what to make of this, she didn’t say anything, reserving her judgement for a later time. Instead, she continued on into one of the bedrooms, and began to pull with determination on a blanket covering the bed there. Serdtse followed after her, bewildered, worried what she must think.

“This will do.” She told him, tossing it into his arms, and then she began to make her way back down toward the fire.

“K-Keiran...” He said, not understanding why she hadn’t spoken one way or the other. She must think he was nuts, 'of course she does', -he convinced himself. “The... closet-...” He spoke, almost in a whine. Why did her opinion matter so much? He knew what he saw. And still...

“What about it?” She asked, hardly making eye contact.

“The skelletons!” He cried out, exasperated, looking briefly back up the stairs as he followed her back down.

“Well they’re gone now, what do you want me to do about it!” She shot back. Serdtse paused on the stairs, still holding the comforter in his arms. So... she didn’t think he was crazy? Or she did, and she was humoring him. -Oh gods, she must be humoring me and not want to argue about it. He convinced himself. His shoulders slumped, defeated as they went back to the hearth.

As he sat there though, with the blanket around his shoulders, brows raised in hope, almost pleadingly, he opened his arms to her, inviting her to come in when she was done fixing the fire. They were both exhausted and nipped with frost. So she did so, without making eye contact. But that was enough for Serdtse. Under the guise (however legitimate) of keeping her warm, he tightened his arms around her and rested his cheek against her lovely raven hair, watching the fire grow and ebb, and dance, playing shadows on the wall.

And then one shadow moved deliberately against the actions of the fire.

Serdtse froze solid. Had he seen that right? Only his bright green eye followed the movement. He lifted his eyepatch, blinking with both eyes a moment... And after a minute or two, all seemed as it should be again, and he started to doubt himself... he let it go, trying to settle in and enjoy this moment with Keiran at his side.

But it wasn't over. It was then it emerged; the shape of a head out of the light, cast against the wall, and before he knew it, it leaped at him!

Serdtse choked and his vision went immediately black. He couldn't move. It was as if someone had taken the use of his limbs. He tried to cry out to Keiran, but while, in his head, the screams were clear, he was aware they made it out as nothing but urgent muttering whispers. He sounded asleep, no matter how hard he tried to call for help. His chest arched in twitches, his head turned, eye still closed and vision black. He continued to cry out to her, desperate, and feverish.

Keiran was aware of nothing save for the fact that Serdtse seemed to have fallen asleep at some point, and was now either having a nightmare or a seizure. Thinking maybe the scare upstairs, whatever it was, had compromised his nervous system, she rolled him to his side to prevent him from choking. And she had no sooner done so, then he opened his eye and gasped... and then, overwhelmed, a quiet sob left him. What did all his strength, all his knowledge matter, against something he couldn’t show anyone? Or against something that could take his own body if it wanted to?

Confused and scared for him, and for herself, Keiran gathered him into her arms.

“Ok, I’ve got to get you out of here.” She said, looking around. And then suddenly, the fire went out and everything was still. Keiran’s sharp eyes widened slightly, half in panic, and half to be intensely aware of her surroundings. She clutched Serdtse tightly to her as her focus flew to one side of the room like a cat. The rustling of something like tracks of small animals, running through the walls echoed. Then something emitted a low growling sound. 'This is not good.' She thought, making the familiar click sound of her sword being drawn from its sheath.

“Iron..!” Serdtse blurted out, pointing at the fireplace tools as he got up and grabbed a shovel for himself, and handing her handle of the poker. And then they stood together, back to back, looking around, and hearing the sounds of the racing animalistic scuffling all along the walls, growing heavier. His voice was subdued. “It’s just... superstition a' course, but...” He swallowed; his green eye wide and busy, trying to focus everywhere at once. “Iron should rend the apparitions. Y'know, disperse their energy. It'll give us time.”

“It won’t kill them??” Asked Keiran, somewhat exasperated. Serdtse, scared and tired and his face still wet with tears, his patience was about gone. He shot back accidentally comical,

“Of course it won’t kill them! They’re already dead, Keiran!!” And something else took a leap at him from the walls. Keiran shoved him aside and slashed through it with so little effort it looked like she hadn't done it at all.

“Run!” She cried out, taking a defensive stance to cover him as he did, facing the dark, empty hearth, and the shadows now obviously moving and swirling as they regained their stamina. “Run!” She shouted again, staggering her feet and ready to make another blow.

Serdtse hesitated only a moment, still holding his shovel. He quickly grabbed their bags, and looked behind him to make sure she was still there. Keiran was following him, walking backward as she fought them off. With urgency, he pulled the heavy door open, and this time, the loud groaning noise that accompanied it was a welcome sound. The snow was the answer to their prayers. Serdtse made it outside, throwing their bags several yards from the door, to safety. And he paused. Anxiousness seized him. Was she still coming?

“Keiran!” He cried out, beginning to head back toward the open door.

And it slammed shut.

'No!' He thought. Then, racing to the entrance, he attempted to open it again, in vain. It wouldn’t budge. He pounded on the door.

“Keiran! Keiran come out! Keiran, open the door! What’s going on!!” He kept shouting, doing whatever he could to pry at the ancient and swollen wood of the door. How had they ever opened it in the first place? It seemed like the doors had been weathered shut for ages. His voice broke a little.

“Keiran!!” He called, hearing nothing. Silence in the snow: there was nothing from the other side of the door that looked like it had ever been opened. He was doubting his senses. His vision circled about at his surroundings. Had she come out with him? No, he was still very much alone..

Not sure what to do with himself, and doubting all of his faculties in the deafening snow, he couldn’t let go the possibility that Keiran was still stuck inside somewhere. Sure he could be hallucinating again, but he had to do the best he could with what he had. The ex-pirate rounded the corner, noticing the window to the drawing room was inconveniently tall. He backed up and took a running leap toward it anyway, scraping the wall with his big green boot, and just barely catching the windowsill. Then he pulled himself up and stood on it only a moment, before he wrapped his large knitted scarf loosely around his face, and with his shoulder, he made a strong charge against the stained glass. It shattered and he fell inside with a loud thud against the floor.

“Ow.” He expressed absently, climbing up off the floor.

“GRrAUGHHH!!” Keiran came at him swinging the poker, and stopped, just centimeters short of his 'good' eye. Her focus widened. “Serdtse!” She blinked. And when her guard was down, some dark shadow flew at her and she dropped the poker and fell to the floor. Serdtse cried out and caught her.

Internally, she struggled against an unknown force while in his arms. Her brow furrowed, angry inside, and she continued to fight. 'MY BODY IS MINE AND YOU WILL GET THE HELL OUT OF IT!!' She roared from her heart, and then she startled awake. The energy and determination had forced it out. She looked up at Serdtse and shouted at him accusingly. “What the hell are you doing in here! I told you to get out!!” And she shoved him toward the window. Without trying to argue, Serdtse scrambled in the direction he had come. Keiran followed quickly, one hand on the redhead’s back as he knocked out the lower bits of remaining glass with his boot, with Keiran looking behind them, and making preemtive strokes at nothing for good measure. And once he had taken a leap out and tumbled into the snow, Keiran followed and rolled once, landing crouched on her feet.

When they were safe outside again, Serdtse pounced her for joy and snow splattered every which way unceremoniously.

“Keiran! Oh gods I was so worried!” He drew back to look her over. “Are ya alright? Gods, I didn’t know what ta think! The door closed, an’ you were still in there, an’ I was thinking I was goin’ crazy, I didn’t know what ta do! Hey lookit me, look it me! Lemme see ya. Ya ok??”

Embarrassed, Keiran jerked her head away.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She answered... then, more pensively, her shoulders relaxed, her focus veered off at nothing, her mind full... and she sighed. “What the hell was that...” She asked, looking to him for answers. She knew Serdtse was the reading type. He blinked at her. Wasn't the answer obvious?

“Keiran they were ghosts. Bad ones too.”

“I don’t believe in ghosts.” She responded, confused. And with a huff, she picked up her backpack, and continued on up the trail. Serdtse stood dumbfounded, pointing absently to the castle they had just narrowly escaped with their lives. How could she say that after what they just witnessed?? He stuttered out meekly,

“B-... but-...the-...”

“Are you coming or not??” She called over her shoulder, not wanting to argue about it.

“Uh-... yeah!” And he took his pack, slung it over one shoulder and followed, confused, and fascinated.

__________________________________

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#afterhappilyeverafter #steampunk #cottagecore #originalstory #serdtse #spooky

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classic-rock-roller · 6 years

Text

1. You come home one day to hear excited whispering through the door. You open it and see Kevin and Randy sitting on the couch, looking suspiciously unbusy. Before you even ask what’s going on, a German Shepherd puppy jumps over the back of the couch and runs up to you. You glance up at them and Kevin bursts out excitedly “We got a puppy!” How do you respond?

“Aww, he’s so cute! What’s his name? Although the two of you are potty training him and footing the bill from the landlord for keeping the dog.”

2. You are attempting to make dinner for Nikki, Tommy and Kevin, your roommates. Something along the way went horribly wrong, and you managed to set off the smoke alarms. They all rush into the kitchen to see what happened, only to see you looking sheepish and confused in the middle of it. What happens next?

They most likely help me turn off the smoke alarms and then help me with dinner because I’m a pretty good cook I just sometimes don’t get recipes right entirely.

3. You and Crue are assigned an interesting project for film class. Somehow, Tommy got put in charge of writing the script, and the characters are Gordon Ramsay, Dean Winchester, Santa Claus, and Ozzy Osbourne. Who films and who plays who?

Tommy would play Gordon Ramsay because I think he’d like to yell a lot. I can see Mick playing Ozzy don't ask me why. I can see Vince play dean and Nikki playing Santa Clause. (Was Tommy high when he came up with those characters or something?)

4. You get home to see Kevin, Nikki, and Duff making dinner. You don’t think anything of it, until after about fifteen minutes. You hear Duff scream in pain, “AUGH, YOU BASTARD.” You rush back to the kitchen to find that he’s got a steak knife in his arm. What do you do?

“What the fuck happened? Why does Duff have a steak knife in his arm? Did one of the two of you stab him with it?” I’d then pile the three of them into my car to take Duff to the hospital all while lecturing about the importance of kitchen safety.

5. You and GNR go out to buy a Christmas tree. Who tries to climb every single one, who is dissatisfied with them all, who is already complaining about needles in the carpet, who jokingly pretends the tree is a lady only to get a mouthful of pine needles, and who sighs and picks one up to drag it to the checkout area?

Steven tries to climb every one, Axl is dissatisfied with every one, slash complains about the needles, Duff gets a mouth full of pine needs, and Izzy just sighs and drags one to the checkout area.

6. Crue and OG Quiet Riot as high school stereotypes?

Tommy, Nikki, and Kevin--the jocks

Vince--in with the popular girls

Randy and Mick--book smart kids

Drew and Rudy--band kids

7. You and Crue are out to dinner. Who orders for the group, who changes their order last minute, who can’t decide (and always ends up getting the same thing anyway so the debate is always moot), who orders a sundae as an appetizer, and who always gets stuck footing the bill?

Tommy always orders for the group.

I always change my order last minute

Vince cant decide (*me to Vince* ”Oh my god Vince just fucking pick something.” “I will this is a very important decision.” “Vince, it’s fucking food. just fucking pick something.” Fine! I’ll get the chicken.” *under my breath* “He gets that every fucking time. I don’t know why we have to go through this.”)

Nikki orders the sundae as an appetizer

and Mick usually ends up footing the bill but sometimes I do too.

8. You’re walking around your neighborhood one sunny day when you pass by Kevin, mowing his lawn. You glance at him, see he is absorbed in what he's doing. A moment later you hear him scream, “Son of a BITCH”. You turn back to see he’s fallen and is spewing profanities like a fire hydrant. What do you do?

I run over to him to make sure he’s ok. If he’s hurt and it’s not too serious I’d say “Hold on I have a first aid kit back at my house.” If it’s serious, I’d drive him to the ER and wait for him to be taken care of so that I can drive him back home.

9. You and Nikki meet Tommy and Vince for lunch one day. As you sit down, Nikki says “Man, my legs are so sore.” Vince casually asks “Why?” Nikki looks at you to tell the story, and you flush out of embarrassment. Without missing a beat, Tommy shouts “OH MY GOD DID YOU GUYS FUCK OH MY GOD VINCE THEY TOTALLY DID.” You don’t have the courage to tell them that Nikki’s legs are sore because you two went to JumpStreet for 4 hours. How do you two proceed?

I’d flush and stutter even more and then go no...we didn’t do that. We just went to JumpStreet for four hours... to which both Tommy and Vince would look at us and go “Uh-huh” I’d just let them go if they don’t want to know the truth so be it.

10. You get on a plane to head out to see some extended family. You are seated next to Tommy, who looks like he’s been awake for a week. As soon as you’re in the air, he passes out on your shoulder. Do you move him or leave him be?

I’d leave him be. He seemed really tired and if he can get any sleep that’s important I wouldn’t want to risk waking him.

11. You get home to see Nikki sitting on the couch with his arms outstretched. “What are you doing?” You ask him. “Cuddle me, you weirdo.” He says. How do you proceed?

I’d go cuddle him. Why wouldn’t I do that?

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1. You are roommates with Stephen Pearcy and because of his long hair, it constantly clogs the sink. Every time he complains about cleaning it you usually respond with, “We live together. You can’t blame this on anyone else.” One time when you say this, he leaves the bathroom and locks you in. What do you do?

2. After getting your little puppy with Randy, he is ecstatic and constantly is carrying the dog or the dog is yipping and following him around. One day while you’re making dinner, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. After a minute or two he starts kissing your neck, so you turn around and look at him. “What’s all this about?” he says, “Think about it. The little patter of children in our home.” How do you respond?

3. You and Warren live together in an apartment. It’s the middle of summer and it’s extremely hot and you’re in a drought. Both you and Warren are pretty much melting on the couch even though all of the windows are open. All of a sudden Warren gets up. “Where are you going?” “I want to take a shower so you should probably join me. It’ll save water.” How do you respond?

4. You came home early from work to find a note from Randy telling you that he was out and he’d be back later. Ok, not a problem, you wait up for him until about ten o’clock. But you have to get up at about six in the morning, so you go to bed. At about midnight you feel the bed dip beside you and roll over, “It's midnight! Where the hell were you? You had me fucking worried!” Where was he?

5. You’re walking down the stairs with Randy when all of sudden you trip. Randy catches you and asks if you’re ok to which you respond that you are, but you wait until you think he is out of earshot before muttering, “Except for my dignity.” Randy turns around and says, “That’s ok, I like that I caught you and not someone else.” How do you respond?

6. You’re getting ready for bed without Randy because he’s going to be out late with Kevin. All of a sudden you feel arms wrap around your waist and instinctively you hit the person which causes them to fall onto the bed. When you turn around you see it’s Randy and he’s holding his nose. What do you do?

7. Randy’s been really sick lately and stuck up in bed. Whenever he gets chills or gets uncomfortable with sour muscles you either cuddle with him or give him a massage and every time he says, “But you’re going to get sick. I don’t want to make you sick.” How do you respond?

8. You have headphones in your ears and are dancing around the kitchen and singing, making dinner to one of your favorite songs. Randy opens the door and calls you and after not hearing you he goes to investigate. He finds you in the kitchen and decided to learn up against the doorway. It’s another two or three minutes before you realize he’s there and when you pull your earbuds out he says, “I like when you dance. You’re good.” How do you respond?

9. Kevin is over at your’s and Randy's house for dinner, Randy says something that makes you blush and Kevin says, “Aww, you’re so sweet and cute and precious.” “I AM NOT SWEET. I AM DARK AND MYSTERIOUS AND DANGEROUS.” Then you do a tiny kitten sneeze. And Randy wraps his arm around you. “Awww, how cute.” How do you respond to Kevin?

10. While over at Kevin and Randy’s house you have your sketchbook out and are drawing Randy. Kevin comes over and asks what you’re drawing. You instinctively hide it which makes him want to see it more. He grabs it from you, “Oh this looks nice. I’m going to go show Randy.” He starts to head out the door. What do you do?

11. Randy wants to wake up extra early to do something but he’s having trouble getting you out of bed. “Just get up. It’s not that hard!” You pull the covers off you. “No, I’m hibernating.” and then go back under. “Well, it’s not that cold out and you’re not even an animal.” Again you pull back the cover. “I can be what I want to be.” “Just get out of bed.” “NO.” “That’s it.” and Randy picks you up. What do you do?

@osbournebemydaddy, your move.

#tag game #tag war

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