#it was better the first time but tumblr ate it and i had to start over ^^;

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - New Age AU - When Summer becomes Spring

I did it! I actually did it! I finished the scheme! @spotaus it took so long but i did it! so I have been working on this for a while! And as you can see it is New Age AU. But with a twist!!

This is not the main AU. this is like an alternative world to that AU. You people know about King!Dream version but this isn't quite that. This is more of a No!King version hihi.

Now. This is more like a one shot or a collection of multiple drabbles all set in the alternative timeline for NewAgeAU. Wtih that out of the way.

Warning! Abuse, esxual abuse, rape, technically underaged and so underaged sexual abuse. NOTHING GRAPPHIC! But it is mentioned and refered and spoken about. I just want you people to be warned just in case. Again. Nothing grapphic in that department. What else. MPreg, again mentioned and used as plotpoint but nothing specific in that way. Character deaths are also in there. Child dead.

It may be a bit of a heavy and long one woopsie. it is 35K words long haha.

*-----------------------------------------*

No one knew what had caused it.

What had gone wrong.

For both the princes, at the same time, had fallen ill.

Ccino runs through the halls as he ignores guards or other servants call out as he rushes past. He is thankful for his small build as it is easier to dodge arms and hands trying to stop him. He ignores the few people he bumps against as he rushes down the hall.

His chores had just finished, he would have preferred to not have to do them at all but no one would allow him to ask one of his few friends to do it for him as he remained with his boys.

Meaning he had rushed them and hadn’t bothered to double check. There were probably some mistakes but he doesn’t care. He needs to get to Nightmare and Dream!

He runs through the hall and the guards guarding the royal wing cross their spears. Ccino glares at them even as he is a head smaller. His breathing is hardly faster than his normal walking as he is beyond used to running “I have the right to enter and leave the royal wings.” He raises a brow as he motions towards the obvious apples adoring his clothing. The sign of his future standing and role and showcases his belonging to the royal family. It used to creep him out, it still does, but for now it has its uses.

It means that the guards let him pass as he rushes towards the right room.

He enters the large bedroom of the twins but it didn’t look in anyway like it used to. Before it would be a curious mix of sun and moon designs with two soft beds nearby and many beautiful little night lights of stars. The large windows in the perfect position to see the rising sun and a window near the ceiling to see the stars and moon at night. The large bookcase full of children books and stories that Ccino would read to the two as they sat in the large reading chair with Ccino. Easily fitting all three of them with room to spare.

Now the room was filled with people. All kinds of healers and doctors form all over the country. The twins had been laid right next to one another, separating the two seemed to unbalance their souls even more than the illness had caused.

Ccino rushes to the twins sides and feels his soul start to break all over again. Both their faces are twisted in pain. Nightmare seems to shudder with each breath, as if he can’t quite get his body to breath. Dream meanwhile is breathing fast, almost as if he is having a panic attack. Nightmare is burning up while Dream is freezing to the touch. Nightmare’s magic seems to be overcharged as Dream’s magic is almost all gone. Nightmare seems to be unable to move as Dream spasms every few seconds and had full blown seizures.

Ccino goes towards the twins and holds both of them, one hand in each of his. One hand feeling as if he is holding a fire while the other feels as if he dipped it in ice. He makes sure to keep holding on tightly to them both. “Hey there buddies…” he speaks softly. Ignoring the people around them working on trying to cure the twins.

Nightmare makes a soft noise as Dream’s eyes opens. Nightmare hadn’t been able to open his sockets himself, and when his sockets were opened for him he couldn’t make his eye lights appear to see. it scared him. Dream meanwhile could see but was unable to speak. Dream stares at him for a moment before he gives a tiny smile as he tries to wiggle a bit closer. Ccino makes sure to rub Dream’s hand with his thumb as he mutters “It is okay sweet Dream. I am here.” He makes sure that Dream heard alright and that seems the case and Dream obviously relaxes. Before his face turns to one full of pain as he shudders and whines softly, but Dream’s hand holds so tightly unto his and Ccino keeps rubbing his hand. Dream relaxes after a moment and pants quickly as Ccino focusses on Nightmare “Hey little Nightlight. I am sorry it took me so long to get here.”

Nightmare grumbles and mutters. His words slurred and not all clear “n-n-o… s-ss-orry…” he whines as he gasps to try and breath as he sweats.

Ccino hums softly to both of them as he keeps holding their hands. He wishes he could just grab both and hold them close. Like he had done for the last seven years of their shared lives. But the first time he tries to hold the twins close the doctors and healers all yelled and screamed at him. Nim had locked him out of the room of the twins for two full days and he ended up only being allowed in as the action had just distressed both twins more.

Now they had to keep it to handholding and a few soft kisses as he hums and talks to them. Hoping to offer a tiny bit of support where he can.

The door opens and Nim walks in. She stares at the scene before looking… disappointed? Annoyed? Ccino isn’t sure as he just dips his head. Making sure to show respect to the god walking this world. Nim walks over towards the healers and they get into a quiet conversation.

Ccino isn’t told what the situation is for obvious reasons. But he still wishes he knew. He still wishes someone would tell him what is wrong with his boys. What is hurting them so and how he can help them feel better.

Nim frowns as she speaks louder “What you are telling me. Is that it is no illness?”

The healer shakes as he answers, seems like even Nigel and Mar don’t have answers. And while a part, an ugly part, of Ccino finds glee and the two healers having to deal with anger from Nim. Ccino would have preferred to both be praised and complimented, because it would mean they would have cured his two.

Mar shakes as she almost sobs to answer “It isn’t anything we have ever heard of before! The magic! It isn’t normal! Something… Something is infecting the magic in them! Changing and pulling and there is no way to control it. No way to change its direction.”

Ccino acts as if he isn’t listening while in reality he pays close attention. That… Why would… Ccino thinks he knows what they are talking about. They are talking about It, aren’t they? But that doesn’t make sense. Because It had never seemed hostile. It was nice! Ccino can know as It always helped him get to place and helped him keep his balance! Why would It ever hurt the twins like this?

Nim frowns as she stares at the twins. Her eyes are cold and Ccino feels the need to hide both the boys from view but… he can’t do that. She is their mother. They both love her. He can’t come between that love. Between them. He remains seated.

Nim looks at the healer “What solutions do you have?”

Nigel looks nervous but none of the doctors answer making them have to take the front and center “A magical transfuse.”

Nim raises a brow and nods “Make it happen.” She goes to turn towards the door.

Nigel speaks up again “My liege! I apologise.” They bow before continuing to speak “We can’t just use any magic. They are young and their souls are fragile. They would need magic from a direct family member.”

Nim frowns as she watches them. Ccino however feels hope and relieve. Nim just needs to donate a bit of her magic to both the twins! It is so easy! She has more magic than anyone with her god status and both his boys would be bright and happy again!

Nim watches Nigel for a long time “And if I do not?”

Ccino’s soul feels cold as he stares. He… he understands why she never helped him or showed him mercy. He is but a dumb boy… but these are her sons. The crown princes! The long awaited and praised twins! Why… why would she… why wouldn’t she?

Nigel looks down as they speak “The only alternative is… to transfuse all of one of the two’s magic to the other.” They straighten their back “I will start with getting the procedure ready to transfer the younger twin’s magic towards our crown prince.”

Ccino is frozen. He is scared. No… no… They can’t… He glances down and realise with horror that both of them heard everything. Nightmare looks scared as he whines softly, his little hand shaking in Ccino’s own. Dream however just stares horrified. Shaking his skull and clearly trying to speak. Dream looks begging at Ccino as he keeps shaking his skull. Ccino gulps as he slowly gets up. His body shaking “Sirs…” Both look towards him. Nigel with obvious annoyance and rage as Nim just looks passive. Ccino feels his body want to run. Even so he pushes through. His boys need him. They are counting on him. Ccino focusses fully on his next sentence “They… neither of them wants this… this!” he stresses the words “Dream doesn’t want Nightmare to die to save him! Nightmare doesn’t want to die!” He can see Dream nodding as much as he can. Nightmare is breathing quickly as he clearly focusses on them. Ccino looks down and speaks “Please! Don’t do that! I beg you.” To finish off he falls to his knees as he kneels and remains in the position to either pray or beg.

Please.

Please.

A soft chuckle and even softer steps. The heat of Nim gets closer and Ccino remains begging and praying as a warm, much too hot hand, traces his cheek before making him look at Nim. Nim looks with unguarded glee at him “Oh how much you remind me of her… Just as pretty… Just as caring… Just as shining.” The hand keeps stroking his cheek and Ccino ignores the sick feeling that appears in his gut and feels it push up his throat.

Ccino finds his voice “Please… Please don’t…”

Nim giggles again as she remains staring at him gleefully “How could I say no to such pretty begging?”

Ccino feels a bit of hope return. Nim nods as she nudges him back up to his feet, a second hand strokes his other cheek and Ccino starts to feel uneasy. This… this is a new thing that has been happening ever since people declared him fourteen. Nim calling him over to her. Usually she just stares at him for a moment before sending him away again. A few times she ordered him to wear some fancy clothes and stuff. And a very few times she would do stuff like this, touching his face in some way. It feels bad… really bad…

He hides the discomfort as he waits patiently. Nim hums as she looks at healer Nigel “We will not do the procedure.” Ccino feels intense relieve and sees Dream looking a bit happier as Nightmare’s breathing calms a bit.

Nim hums as she walks towards her boys with one last stroke of Ccino’s skull. Ccino remains in place as he stands straight. He waits impatiently as Nim walks over to his boys. Just a quick boost of magic is all she needs to give them and both will be fine again! Ccino will make sure they take it easy of course. Make sure they heal and that everything truly is stable in their magic. Oh! Ccino can make them some cinnamon buns! He hopes the import of spices has arrived yet. Then he can make the best version of the nice treat! He knows it is one of Dream’s favourites and Nightmare always enjoys them as well!

Nim stands by the two small beds. She is bright and shines through the room. Nim hums “Such a shame. So much wasted time. But imperfection will just harm my legacy.”

Everything feels cold.

What?

A hand reaches down towards Nightmare first. She goes straight towards his chin. She tilts the small skull up before her hand moves down. It removes the blanket covering Nightmare and hovers over the spot of his sternum for a moment.

A loud and wet crack.

She…

She…

A moment later Nim pulls his hand back. A very small purple soul in her hand as Nightmare lays completely still. Mouth still open from his scream of pain but having gone quiet almost instantly. He shudders and shakes as Nim raises the soul high. One hand holding the purple soul she turns away from her dying son. She focusses on Dream.

Dream stares at her. Shocked and confused and… scared… Dream glances around and reaches towards him.

Ccino doesn’t think as he starts to run towards him but a hand grabs him. Ccino doesn’t bother to look around as he tugs and pushes at the hand holding his arm “No let go! Let go. Dream!” he stresses the prince’s name as he stares back. Dream is shaking as he stares at Nim with pure fear.

Nim looks at him coldly “A shame. I truly thought you would be perfect. Yet you failed me. You made me do this. You are the one who forced my hand.” Dream shakes and tries to speak but nothing leaves his mouth.

Nim holds her hand above his sternum but instead of punching her way towards the soul and breaking everything she flexes open her hand. Dream shudders and his mouth falls open in a silent scream. His sternum behind his shirt lights up bright yellow and Ccino can smell the scent of burning monster matter.

Moments later the soul is forced out of his body, having been made to burn a way out. Tears are streaming his face as he reaches towards Nim. Nim just holds the two small souls by her face. Not even looking into Dream’s direction. Dream tries to reach but his arm and hand quickly fall towards the bed. Shaking and in pain as the very thing that makes him him has been removed from him. Stolen from him.

Ccino shakes his skull but can’t find any words. The hand keeps an iron grip on him as he tugs at it. The souls… The twins need their souls and-

Nim opens her mouth which seems to rip open her cheeks and part of her neck. Much larger and sharper than ever before.

And she eats the souls.

And the twins are dust.

Ccino feels every bit of fight leave his body.

They…

They are… gone?

But…

But… what about… They were…

Nim hums and frowns “Much weaker than either should have been.” She glances back and chuckles “Oh no need to be so dramatic.” Soft steps and his face is raised to look up at her.

Oh… he had fallen to his knees… didn’t he?

Nim brushes his cheek with her thumb and Ccino sees the finger come back wet.

Oh… he is crying…

Nim chuckles again but there is a warning edge to her voice “Remember what I told you dear. Crying makes you wrinkle. You are not allowed to cry.”

Ccino wants to scream. He wants to break something. But as soon as the thoughts are there they are gone. Because it wouldn’t matter. His twins are still gone…

Ccino sobs as he shakes “Why… why… Why did you… kil-” He chokes on the word and sobs as his whole body shakes. His soul hurts. He doesn’t care if she is mad at him anymore. He doesn’t care about anything.

Please.

Please he will do anything.

Please give them back.

Nim chuckles “Oh it was needed dear. I can’t waste such a precious resource as magic. It was much better for me to take the magic that I originally given them back.” She sighs “It will complicate things as there is a schedule as for when the ritual needs to take place. But it will have to do for now.” she pats his cheek twice “Now. You go back to your room and clean up too. From now on when you are done with your chores but you are still on the clock I expect you to be in the throne room to serve me.” She straightens her back and wipes off some dust off… off her… her dress..

She is acting as if it is just some dust… and not… as if it isn’t all that is left of.. left of…

Ccino feels a guard nudge him and he raises to his feet. He bows and leaves the room. He staggers back to his room and enters.

He falls to the ground and starts sobbing as he hugs himself. They are gone.

No more bedtime stories. No more playing games. No more watching Dream proudly perform a magic trick. No more sharing good books with Nightmare. No more watching them play and joke around.

They are gone…

The only lights in this hell.

Gone…

--

Ccino still feels as if he is stuck in a haze. Or maybe like he is stuck underwater?

Three years have passed and he still misses the twins every single day. He keeps expecting to turn around and spot them in the doorway. To reach out when he is barely awake and feel them laying close for warmth and cuddles.

But each time he is forced to realise the cruel reality.

They are gone.

One of the panels on the wall shifts slightly. Showing a small hiding hole.

Ccino ignores it as he keeps walking.

He knows now what the price of It is. And Ccino regrets ever accepting It’s help.

Ccino remembers as if it is yesterday. It is the only clear day he still fully remembers. Everything else blurs together. He had been crying for hours. He had felt empty and exhausted but he had been unable to sleep…

Because he had been thinking…

Ccino continues to stare at the dark stone of the ceiling above him. His sockets still itch and hurt as he is all out of tears. He can’t… How is he even supposed to do anything now? He was… he was there for the twins… He loves them both so much. It hurts so much.

But the fear. The fear of a single thought that would not leave him.

His throat feels cry and painful after all his crying but he still whispers into his dark room “Are… Are you here? Can you… hear me?”

Nothing happens for a moment. Everything is the same as always when. The noise from outside of his room seems to disappear. Ccino isn’t sure if he is starting to see things but the ceiling itself seems to move slightly. As waves in a puddle.

Ccino struggles to speak through his dry throat “Please… Please just… just tell me… did… did you do it? Did you make them ill?” Are you the reason why they were killed?

There is no voice. No clear answer. More shifting and his door creaks a little before silence returns.

Ccino feels close to crying “Please… Did… did you make them ill? Just move anything if you did…” There is more silence and for a moment Ccino feels hopeful but then movement by his window. Ccino turns his skull and watches as the latch on it slowly unlocks. It opens and Ccino can feel the small breeze enter his room. It makes him shiver even as the air from outside is warm and dry. The scent of the warm night slowly fills his room as he sobs again.

He rolls unto his side as he hugs himself closer. Rolling up as far as he can as he starts crying all over again.

The price for this thing’s help had been the twin’s health.

Ccino is an idiot.

Nothing is ever free.

Not far from him a statue moves a tiny bit. Instead of going towards that he keeps going straight.

He stopped using It’s tunnels all together.

As effect it obviously meant that his workflow and skills seemed to worsens but he honestly doesn’t care. He does not care what others think or say about him. It doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe it never actually mattered.

The first week his work results took a nose dive people just assumed it had been as he was distracted with the loss of the twins. That he was grieving. After that they would make comments about him having gotten slower. Ccino would just lie with a straight face that this was as fast as he had always been able to go.

He was in luck. As the people in charge like to be right and amazing. They reasoned themselves into believing that Ccino had just always been slow compared to the others. And that they had been merciful and nice enough to let him go at the pace he was possible. Because even if he wasn’t the fastest anymore his quality was by far the best.

Running steps are his only warning before something, or someone, smashes into him and he falls back on the ground. He groans as his body aches with leftover burns and scratches from the day before. Luckily that is all his fall did, irritate already existing sores and pains. He looks up and tilts his skull slightly.

He hasn’t seen this person before. He looks the other over very quickly. They are a human, male maybe? They seem young as they stare with large eyes at him. He is dressed in a very basic guard uniform without any weapons and no extra markings. Not yet a cadet? Maybe a rookie? Trainee?

They are staring shocked at him with their hands raised. Seemingly unable to decide if they want to help him up or not.

That is when they glance at his face and sputter “I-! I am so sorry! Please sir! I know I should- I mean I should have watched where I was going! Please forgive me!” and he bows deeply.

Ccino immediately feels uneasy but it is to be expected. He raises a hand and gives a small smile. Trying to steer this conversation away from whatever territory it is going “It is alright. Accidents happen. No harm no foul.” He rises to his feet and makes sure no dirt remains on his clothing. He gives the other another smile “Hello. Nice to meet you. I am Ccino. Who are you?” and he waits.

The other keeps looking down with obvious shame on his face “I am Rogers. I am so terrible sorry sir. I swear I didn’t mean to.”

Ccino looks away as he rubs his arms “It is alright… and no need for sir. I don’t really…” he isn’t sure how to say what he wants. He decides to go for a slightly different approach. “Not to forget, I am pretty sure you are older. Though I will have to admit I am not the best with estimating ages for humans.” And he smiles.

The other at least seems to relax a little bit as Ccino remains calm. He still looks embarrassed and guilty but he is at least looking up “Thank you for… Thank you. I am still new and started shortly ago.” He rubs his neck as he looks down again “Still getting an basic idea for where what is and I was running late.”

Ccino needs to think for a moment “Oh! You were with the new recruits that arrived two weeks ago?” Strange that the guard already let those in training wander around. Not his responsibility luckily but still, that seems a bit early “In that case I will not keep you.” he gives his usual half bow as he continues walking down the fall. After a few steps he however stops and turns around “Oh. And Recruit Rogers?”

Rogers is still standing in the spot he was before. Looking at him curiously and waiting “Yes sir?”

Ccino ignores the title for now as he speaks “You want to go left at the first chance you get. Then go straight and you will end up at the stairs leading towards the main hall.” And he turns back to continue walking on towards his destination.

He thinks Rogers says something but he can’t quite hear it before he hears the other run towards his goal. Ccino doesn’t mind. He is used to being isolated.

Even if it got a lot worse lately.

Ccino glances into the reflection of the glass, and while he can’t see his own face quite that clearly he can see the large chain around his neck. Interwoven with his upper spine and collarbones to make it secure and a pain to remove even if he wanted to. And Ccino isn’t a big enough idiot to try and remove it. He knows the consequences.

Personally? The idea of getting molten gold casted on him to truly form fit something does not sound appealing. He will take the interwoven and slightly uncomfortable golden chains over that option any day.

Ccino doesn’t even hate the discomfort the most. It is annoying but he can handle it. No. It is what ir represents that makes him feel ill to his very soul.

Nim gifted it him when he was assumed to be sixteen. On the anniversary of him being there for nine years. When Nim made his new role perfectly clear for all to see.

Funny…

He had been so very afraid to become a toy and the first harem member for Dream that he worried about it nightly.

Yet in the end he just ended up in Nim’s harem… as the favourite no less.

Is this karma? For him having been so afraid? Had he let it influence him?

Hadn’t been losing the twins enough punishment? For being selfish and asking for help from another god? Instead of serving the god he had been supposed to?

He doesn’t know.

He just feels numb… He is so tired…

He turns another corner and gets to the right room. It is large and decorated with gold fire and large orange gemstones, the same type of gem that is in his necklace. Ccino always thought of it more as a pet collar but maybe that is just him being unthankful again.

He enters the room and glances around. Seems like he got here before Nim. That is good. Nim gets… frustrated when Ccino is late… He enters the dressing room connected to the bedroom and takes just a moment to take a deep breath.

He goes towards the vanity and gets to work on some light make up and paintings. It isn’t a lot. Just some fake magical markings like in Sanctuary. Some extra black by his sockets to make them appear bigger. Highlighting his cheekbones. He ends up staring at himself in the mirror.

He never liked seeing himself… It brought back memories that just hurt… But this past year he had been forced to look at it a lot as he got ready for evenings with Nim or when he had to go with her to places.

He is just so tired.

Ccino sighs before walking towards one of the many rows of hangers with dresses. Ccino can’t help but feel the return of his annoyance and distaste. He has started to really dislike dresses. It isn’t because he thinks they aren’t beautiful. It is just… Nim likes him to wear them. The way Nim speaks about how they look on him and showcase his best features.

It makes him feel gross.

Still he grabs one of the pink dresses. Knowing those go rather well with the orange gem as he gets dressed. Immediately feeling exposed with the open back and the cut in the side almost all the way up to his pelvis.

He truly hates it.

Even so after getting ready he sits on the bed and waits. Trying to not think about what will happen once again and trying to not panic.

It is no use to panic after all.

His mind thinks back to when he first lost his twins… the pain it brought back. He had been unable to do much but cry that first week. Unable to focus and missing them so badly. The idea to quickly get a memento of them had appeared in his mind. Just a little something to keep in his room and hug close when the grieve got too much.

He had ran towards their room the first chance he got. Hoping to maybe get Dream’s blanket or a well-loved plushie or maybe Nightmare’s favourite book.

Only to find the room completely bare. Well not completely but it had been completely transformed. Instead of the beautiful yellow and purple walls they had been a neutral light blue. Instead of the two beds with canopies decorated with tiny stars and lights, there had been one queen sized bed in brown colours. The cabinets with their toys and games replaced with a vanity. Their closets filled with their go to outfits for sleep replaced with another closet. All the drawings, the little projects, their homework that would be spread across the room and taped to the wall in their little craft corner, replaced with nothing but a carpet on the ground.

Gone… Everything about them… gone…

Ccino had just stood their frozen and when he asked anyone they had just looked at him as if he was an idiot.

“Why remember them? They are dead and failures. We only serve the living and those who matter.”

The door to the room opens and a soft coo “Oh you look beautiful as always.” Nim sounds content as she walks in. She turns away from him as she starts removing some of her jewellery. Ccino gets to his feet and walks over to undo her cape as always.

Ccino follows through the routine as he pays attention to what Nim says. Nim complains about commoners daring to approach her. Them whining about them not having enough food and needing help and care. Her being annoyed that they can’t appreciate all the works she does into keeping everything perfect!

Ccino hums and nods “It is truly a tragedy they can’t see these things like you my liege.” It had become easier to lie to Nim. Even if it felt uncomfortable, the slave contract interwoven into his being from his young age displeased with him lying to the one he is supposed to serve. It always leaves a nasty taste in his mouth and makes his tongue feel weird. But it is better than telling his honest opinions and making Nim angry.

Nim pauses and turns to him. He was never truly able to read her face with the flames of her fire elemental being. But he knows how to read her voice and her overall body language. She is pleased.

Nim strokes his cheek before holding it again. “Oh Ccino you always know just want to say.” She stares at him for a moment longer, looking pleased “You do truly remind me so much of my dear Lyra.”

That name again. She mentions this Lyra person a lot. Ccino isn’t sure who they are but it seems like they were important.

Nim hums as she takes his hand and leads it towards the bed. Ccino feels the spike of panic before letting himself zone out as best as he can. He can’t zone it all out sadly. The burn of her touch and arousal always hurts. It will always hurt. The way her magic overwhelms and scorches.

But, like always, eventually it ends. His pains still there and the sores much worse. Knowing there are new burns and black marks of where the fire touched. He knows he will need to treat those the next day and inspect his weak and fragile ecto and treat it as best as he can.

Only for it all to happen again the next day.

Even with how tired he feels he can’t fall asleep. Unable to find any comfort or rest as he lays next to the god he was forced to serve. At least until she is done with him or the end of his days.

Whichever happens first.

--

He lets Robin help him out of his complex ballgown as he tries to hide his slight excitement. Trying to play the tired and overwhelmed part.

Robin hums “You know. Our king will soon realise you aren’t actually tired when you want to leave the party.” She shoots him a look as she helps the dressing robe over his shoulders as he puts his arms into the sleeves.

Robin is one of the very few servants that still speaks to him like normal. The others all too afraid of accidentally misstepping and him telling their king that they were disrespectful. It hurts that they think of him like that. It is why he values both Robin and Rogers so much. Robin never stopped seeing him as the rookie servant that joined a little bit after she started. Robin had been helping him since the start and clearly he should have appreciated her more.

Ccino gives a shrug “It is fine. The king prefers to be alone with these parties anyway.” It gives her the chance to look for new curiosities she likes. Looking for new people she wants to keep. Ccino feels bad for making others deal with her but any moment where the focus isn’t on him is welcome.

It had been strange. Nim holding him after a night and asking him if he disliked her spending time with her harem. Ccino hadn’t been completely honest, having been honest would mean telling her he preferred her spending time with the harem. Instead he remained diplomatic and told her that he knew she was a god and that he was but mortal. That there was no way he would be able to keep up with her needs on his own. She had cooed and been so content about his answer. Even if Ccino could have done without the reward she gifted him afterwards. He hadn’t been able to move without something hurting for days.

Robin giggles “You just don’t want to be at the parties.” She grins before a small frown covers her face. She is staring at his hand and Ccino glances down, seeing a very clear burnmark stand out on his white bones. Ccino quickly tugs his sleeve to cover it. Robin doesn’t say a word but does open a drawer to grab some oils before gently applying it to the mark.

Robin whispers softly “Lets hope our king finds some to her liking. She could expend her harem.”

Ccino isn’t sure when Robins started to see the cracks in his mask. When Robin started to realise that Ccino was deeply unhappy. Maybe all that it takes to see through his lies is just spending time with him. Or maybe he is just a shit liar. Probably both… He just hopes his friend won’t do anything foolish. Robin can be quick to act.

Robin hums as she puts the dress away “Well! That is all. I assume you want to be going back to your room soon… Especially as it is a ball night.” and she has the nerve to shoot him an amused look.

Starting to think it is just his lies that are shit.

He keeps looking at her before giving a bright smile as he hums “What can I say. I am very tired.” Robin giggles but doesn’t comment on his answer as she turns back to further clean the dressing room.

“In that case! I hope you have a good night.”

She is very quick to act, and smug for that matter, and sadly very observant.

Ccino quickly flees the room before walking towards the king’s bedroom. Well technically also his he supposes but he never saw it as his, it never felt safe and secure as his old room had felt. He misses it.

Still he enters the dark room. Quiet and empty. The balcony door is open and the soft summer breeze makes the mesh curtains move in it. The moon light shines in which lights the room just enough for him to see.

Ccino closes the door behind him as he sighs in relieve. A moment without the king nearby at last. He hopes she remains at the party for a long time.

He walks over towards the small un suite dressing room and undoes his dressing robes. He drops it on the chair as he walks towards the large bed, larger than any bed has a right to be.

He lays back on it and sighs as he closes his sockets for a moment. It is peacefully quiet as he enjoys it for a moment.

A small shift and he opens his sockets to see another person hanging over him. Completely dark sockets with black tear marks. A large grin on his face. Black leather clothing.

The other grins widely “Well look at this. Here I came to steal a treasure but it seems I found the biggest treasure of all.” The other grins as he raises Ccino’s hand and kisses it “For a god your king is rather dumb to not guard her greatest treasure better.”

Ccino can’t help but snort as he grins at the other “Stop being cheeky.”

The other skeleton grins as he sits upright to make room for Ccino to sit up himself “Just being honest.” Killer shrugs as his bright soul lights up the room in a by now familiar and calming red light. Not as the flames of Nim, no, much softer and less bright. It is a comfort by now.

Ccino smiles at the other “I am happy you are here.”

Killer looks at him and grins “As if you could keep me away. The vines are so easy to climb to get in and around.”

Ccino grins as he leans closer, he can’t help the amusement in his voice “So, what will this dangerous thief do? Now that he has found himself not in the treasure room but with someone else?”

Killer grins as his arms lock around him and kisses his cheek “Pray to the gods he doesn’t believe in that the most beautiful treasure of all finds him worthy.” And he wiggles his eye brows.

Ccino laughs but pulls Kiler down to lay in the bed. Relaxing back as he lets Killer trace his body. Letting his mind, body and soul enjoy the affection and careful touches. Gentle and slow.

It is aleays slow. There is never a rush even if both know the risks. Killer never rushes these nights and Ccino needs them badly.

Ccino met Killer in town one time. When Nim had been showing off her radiance and when Ccino had been dragged outside with her. He had felt exposed and seen as he had been uncomfortable. Only for a strange but handsome skeleton to stop before him. Cheerfully introducing himself and even daring to kiss Ccino’s hand in greeting. Interesting enough though, before he did kiss his hand Killer had asked Ccino if that would be okay. Ccino had been surprised and had in shock nodded his okay.

And that had been it. Nothing else. Killer had gently held his hand before kissing the back oh so softly. Then the guards noticed the skeleton and Killer had ran away as he waved back cheerfully. Shouting about how beautiful and nice he had been. Ccino had replayed the meeting in bed that night. Over and over in his mind as he ignored the trailing hands of Nim. It had made it bearable for a while.

But that was not the only time he saw Killer, only a few days later Killer found the king’s room instead of the treasure room, it had been Killer’s first time being in this exact room. Ccino had been getting ready for the king when Killer just rolled into the room through the open window. They had stared at each other before Ccino had told him he was in the wrong wing to steal valuables. Killer had sputtered and seemed lost for words as his soul had been quickly switching between a round shape and the normal soul shape. In the end Ccino had just mentioned that he could probably just go back outside and go to the west side before finding the treasure he had been looking for.

Ccino is pretty sure that Killer had walked backwards towards the window blindly only to trip and fall out. There had been no crash as Killer had managed to catch himself but it had been close. Ccino hadn’t been able to help himself, he laughed when he heard Killer shout a quick ‘I am okay! I meant to do that!’ it had honestly made his night.

After that? Killer kept showing up. Not every night of course. But at least one time a month if not once a week. Ccino had been excited. Killer brought stories of adventure and freedom. He would describe what he had seen as they both leaned against the balcony railing. Ccino would lean close to hear every secret detail. It painted a picture of the world outside of this castle. Outside of these walls.

It wasn’t until later, almost a year after them meeting, that they got physical. Ccino won’t lie, he loves Killer. Killer had made his life bearable and gave him hope for something else, that there was hope for his life to be better. Ccino knows of course, that one day Killer will grow bored. That the excitement of fucking the king’s consort behind her back would wear off in some way. But for now Ccino greedily held unto these moments.

Even if the first time having sex with Killer had brought him regret. It had been amazing and beautiful and Ccino just felt happy and love. Only for him to realise what he had done. What this would mean for Killer. Back then Ccino had tried to break of their relationship and friendship. Break it off before Nim would realise what happened and kill Killer for it. Ccino didn’t, and still doesn’t, care that he would die for this but Ccino doesn’t want Killer to be punished for Ccino’s mistakes.

But Killer hadn’t wanted to end their nights. End the contact they had.

Which brings them to here. Two years after Ccino met Killer when Ccino had been twenty-two. A year after their secret friendship turned into a secret relationship of sorts. Both knowing that if Nim ever finds out it will mean a terrible end. But neither willing to break it quite yet.

Ccino sighs as he lays in Killer’s arms. Between Killer’s body and Killer’s soul. The warmth of it is welcome to him as he pushes his face by Killer’s collarbone and neck. Feeling content and safe and, well, happy.

Killer is purring up a storm as he holds him “I missed you.”

Ccino snorts as he pushes closer “Not like I am ever anywhere else…” the hands and arms around him tense for a moment before both arms pull him closer. Ccino frowns as he kisses the sternum he is laying against “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

Killer just holds him “Please… don’t apologise. It is okay.” a moment of silence “Oh wait! I got you a gift!” Killer sounds very excited.

Ccino turns around just enough to glance up at Killer, seeing him smile brightly “A gift?”

Killer nods and he pulls away to lean over the edge of the large bed, not caring at all that he is showing off his naked bones to the whole world at the moment. Killer sits back upright with a bag in his hands. Ccino sits up a little as he pulls the blanket up with him, making sure to hide the worst old burns and wounds from view. Just because Killer knows doesn’t mean it makes it easier for Killer to see. Ccino doesn’t want him to be in discomfort.

Killer looks a bit guilty “Okay. I lied. It are two gifts!” he grins and holds up a curious red ball with green spikes that make it almost teardrop shaped. Killer hands it to him and Ccino studies it. It is a plant?

Killer grins as he looks excited “It is dragon fruit! It grows on cacti and they are real cool!” he takes the fruit back and takes out his knife. Ccino watches curiously as Killer cuts it open and makes small pieces for him “Here!” he grins.

Ccino knows he shouldn’t and he hesitates “I don’t know Kills… It isn’t yet my eat day…” he only is allowed to eat once every four days… He already ate two days ago…

Killer frowns deeply at what he said before raising it up to him “It is fruit! That is totally fine!” and he waits.

Ccino frowns as he slowly reaches for it “Well… just a little…” he will have to make sure to eat a bit less when it is his meal time again. But Killer truly seems excited… He takes a little piece and looks it over curiously. The inside is white with tiny black dots. He sniffs it before taking a small bite. The taste itself is very light! But it is nice! Ccino eats a bit more but soon stops to not overeat.

Killer frowns but doesn’t mention it as he eats what is leftover. The cleans his hands quickly before opening his bag again before pulling out a-

Wow…

A beautiful crystal and glass statue… in the shape of a beautiful rose. It is truly beautiful. Ccino can’t help but stare as Killer looks a bit nervous as he talks “I… I wanted to get you flowers. But I know with the weather here it would be harder to take care of and I wasn’t sure which would be the best. Not to forget I didn’t want to get you something that would just die because… that is depressing… I figured… I mean if you don’t like it that is fine too. I just. I wanted to get you something cool that would last.”

Ccino smiles at the other. His soul feeling light and feeling giggly on happiness “It is amazing. I love it.” He takes the creation with gentle hands and stares in awe at the many details. It is incredible! The details and colours are just gorgeous even with the low lighting. Ccino smiles as he looks around before getting up to grab one of the glass vases around the room. They are just decorative anyway and he moves it to his side of the bed. He places it on the nightstand and puts the rose into it. He smiles when he notices the muted colours of the vase really make the rose stand out.

He smiles at Killer “Once I get the chance I will move it to my own room. I am not there a whole lot but at least it will be safe.” He snorts as he sees Killer just stare with a small fluster covering his face. His soul is clearly in a heart shape and wobbles madly. Ccino can’t help but laugh softly as he walks over and puts his arms around his neck and leans close to the other “Mmh. Such a lovely gift… It would only be fair if I thanked you.”

Killer is still staring with his mouth slightly open as he nods slowly before sputtering “Only if you want to! Like. Really want to! I am just as happy to just lay with you and talk I swear.”

Ccino smiles as he leans closer but he freezes. He hears heels. Killer and him glance at the door at the same time before Killer curses softly and dives for his clothes covering the floor. Ccino leans over himself to help figure out which are his and which are Killer’s.

They manage to locate the clothes but the door is starting to open and the balcony is just too far away. Killer dives into the walk in closet and Ccino manages to cover himself just in time and act as if he is sleeping when the door opens.

Ccino makes sure his soul and emotional state are both calm, and then he waits and listens.

The heels walk around the room and Ccino realises the issue with Killer being inside the walk in closet. With the fear of what could and would happen to Killer if he is found he turns towards Nim and makes sure to keep his voice open and welcoming “You are back already? Wasn’t the party fun?”

Nim pauses as she turns towards him. The closet door slightly open but she is no longer looking at it “You are still awake?” She leaves the closet for what it is as she walks over. Just a few steps and she towers over him and the bed. She looks highly amused and pleased “Even already ready.”

Ccino finds the right lie to tell quickly “Even if I know you would be at the party there is always a hope you would prefer something else.” The lie burns his tongue and taste vile.

Nim looks very pleased and locks him in so quickly “Always with the compliments. So sweet to me.” Which is followed by a kiss.

The kiss honestly tastes worse than the lie did. Ccino dislikes everything about this but remains relaxed and placid, that way it is over the soonest and with least amount of burns and pain.

Ccino isn’t sure why, but he is just not compatible with Nim, at all. He doesn’t know why, maybe it is because his magic is weak, maybe it is because he is fragile and less healthy. But instead of the fire elemental nature of Nim just feeling warm to him. It burns and stings whenever she is near. Touching feels even worse and Ccino wonders if that is what touching lava feels like. It lingers and even the memory of the touches give an echo of pain.

Nim pulls away looking content as she finishes undressing. Ccino hums as he makes some light conversation “Were none at the party to your liking my king?”  Ccino feels the too hot hand touch his face. His face feels as if it is getting a sunburn already.

Nim looks bright and content as all her four eyes look at him in little upturned half moons “None of them looked interesting at all.” she sighs “Honestly the quality is decreasing.” She looks annoyed. Her gaze shifts around before frowning at the new addition to the room “Mmh… Where did that come from…?”

Ccino hides his anxiety behind a slow blink before lazily looking towards the precious glass rose. He takes a moment to stare at it before humming “I believe… It was a present from one of your many suitors?” the lie fills up his throat as if he ate sand. He just smiles back at Nim.

Nim sighs long and loud as she leans on her hand, still laying over him “Oh I do not remember who gave me this little trinket.” She sighs as she shoots him an amused look “Honestly how am I supposed to keep track of all of them at this point?”

Ccino just nods as he easily tells her what she wants to hear “If you do not remember them they couldn’t have been impressive at all.”

Nim nods again “True, as always my dear.” The term of endearing makes him feel ill. She looks back at the glass statue “What to do with it… mmh. I can’t remember if I had a spot in mind. Any ideas dear?”

Ccino lays back and frowns a tiny bit to make a show of thinking. He hums as he keeps acting as if he is thinking before answering “Well, showing it off would send the wrong message and instead of it just adding to the decorations it could be seen as a statement that the suitor would be unworthy of.”

Nim frowns as he mouth shifts downwards and her many eyes narrow “Them daring to even think that?! How arrogant!!” She sounds enraged and the fire burns hotter.

Ccino nods as he answers with the right sentence “You are perfection. Anyone could only hope to gain your affection.”

Nim’s rage fades as she looks rather smug “That. I am.” She sighs as she waves the flower off without a second thought “I honestly don’t care. It is but a tiny trinket of someone too low to deserve to be on my mind for even a moment.” She looks at him and smiles “You can have it. It fits you.” and she looks amused.

Ccino ignores the dig about how she thinks about him as just a trinket, it isn’t anything new and he got what he wanted, he makes sure to nod and bow his head as much as he can in this position “Thank you my king. You are too kind and giving.” The second part makes it feel like his tongue is being stabbed.

Nim looks so very smug “I truly am. Now. I have needs.” Her hands start to move and as soon as he feels that he stops paying attention. He lets his god and king touch him however she wishes and lets her manipulate his body however she sees fit.

The worst part is honestly that Killer is still stuck in the closet but with him distracting Nim he will be able to escape rather easily.

It isn’t as if this is the first time Killer got locked in and he experienced Ccino doing his purpose and pleasure Nim. Doesn’t make it any easier.

His mind wonders to the first time this happened. Not too long after he and Killer got physical. As that is when Killer started to dare to stay longer. They had been very careful as they both understood the risks but the time they could spend together in bed just laying there. Holding one another and just being together. It made Ccino imagine that he was just a normal person. Just a normal monster who was allowed to get crushes and interests and who fell for the mysterious handsome stranger that would sneak into his room at night to spend time together.

It had been a beautiful fantasy that he could enjoy. So of course it ended up being ruined by Nim appearing earlier than planned. Killer had to hide under the bed itself.

Ccino remains frozen as he feels Nim get up. She sighs happily as Ccino feels the hand stroke his spine. The pain is unbearable but he remains silent. He keeps acting as if he is asleep. Please. Please just leave.

Nim giggles and soon the door closes as she leaves. Leaving him behind alone in the room and Ccino can’t stop himself from holding himself closer as he feels the tears leave his sockets.

The pain… it hurts so badly. But worse is knowing that… Killer now knows. Killer is now truly aware of how disgusting he is. It is his duty to give the king what she wants but that is no excuse. Ccino doesn’t even try to stop her and he must have looked so weak and useless. Killer is gone now and will never return and-

A hand touches his arm and Ccino can’t help but freeze up fully. Is Nim back? He didn’t hear the door and-

“Shit! Right sorry. I am so sorry. Ccino? It is just me. Can I… Can I touch you? Wait not like that! Just. Please? I can help I swear I will help.”

Ccino can’t help but turn quickly. Shocked. Why is Killer here. He glances at the door “Kills? Why are you here? You need to leave.” The sun is already out. Killer will have a much harder time sneaking out without the cover of darkness. Why would he still be here?! Nim would have been asleep and that should have given him the perfect moment to escape!

Killer sputters “Why am I here?! Ccino… I… I couldn’t just leave!” he stresses the word as his hands still hover “I… Is it okay if I pick you up?”

Ccino blinks and just numbly nods. Killer moves slowly as he picks him up and Ccino can’t help but flinch as a burn is touched wrong. Killer apologises even as Ccino softly reassures him it isn’t his fault.

Killer ends up carrying him towards the bathroom where he puts him on the edge of the bath. He turns on the water and Ccino watches the tub fill up. It is large and dug into the wall almost. It is large enough to fit Nim. Ccino glances and sees Killer rummaging through the different cabinets, clearly searching for something.

Ccino glances down and frowns as he sees the burns on his arms and wrists. He studies the shape and feels cold to his soul as he realises it is shaped perfectly like her hand. Are all of them like that? He feels sick. He wants to throw up. Why did he agree to let Killer carry him? It is so obvious now that he is just some useless toy and used and-

Killer lets out a loud ‘Ahah!’ as he proudly raises a few bottles. He rushes back over and puts it in the tub. Killer smiles at him and Ccino just glances down again. He doesn’t want to… to see the disgust and regret. Will he lose him now? It would hurt to not have Killer like him anymore. But what if Killer doesn’t even want to be friends anymore?

He doesn’t know what to do…

Killer speaks quietly “Hey… I am going to pick you up now okay? I am going to put you in the bath… is that okay?” Ccino just gives him a nod.

Killer doesn’t move right away and it just makes Ccino feel worse. Before Killer would be excited and joyful whenever Ccino gave him okays or said it was fine… yet now he hesitates… is he really that gross now?

Killer’s hands and arms finally help him of the edge and into the warm water. Ccino frowns as glance down. Had Killer put some kind of bathing oil into it? It feels softer somehow.

Killer is quiet for a moment before speaking “I… I found some stuff against burns… can I… may I help you with some of those wounds?”

Right. Because they are obvious. Ccino nods again and keeps looking down even as he holds out his arm.

The silence around them is chilling. Ccino is not used to this. Not from Killer. Killer is warmth and joy and energy. He doesn’t like being quiet and Ccino doesn’t like him being quiet. It doesn’t feel right and makes him uneasy. It is not the comfort he had come to known, come to rely on…

“I… I never knew that this… it got this bad.” Killer speaks softly as he cares for the burns.

Ccino shrugs as he mutters “Others don’t seem to mind.” he isn’t sure why he mentions that. He isn’t sure why he said that. Why doesn’t he just lie and say it is normal? Why doesn’t he just lie and says it is great?

Why is it harder to lie to Killer, than it is to Nim?

Killer is silent for a moment before speaking “I am going to hug you… is that okay?”

Ccino shrugs “If you want to.” It would be nice… real nice…

Killer still hesitates. But then two arms lock around his shoulders and Killer shakes as he just pulls him tightly against him. It is so nice and Ccino feels himself relax. Killer’s arms keep shaking lightly and it seems to grow worse when Ccino leans fully into his hold. Is this too much? Is he making Killer uncomfortable?

Killer keeps holding him close “Ccino?”

Ccino hums and waits.

Killer pauses for a moment before speaking again “Run away with me. Please.”

Ccino blinks and glances at Killer “What?”

Killer stares at him and smiles nervously “I know. I know it is a lot. But. You are hurt. She hurts you. Please. I could deal with that creep of a lady touching you as long as you enjoyed it! But you don’t! It hurts you and you don’t… You deserve much better than that Ccino!” And he waits.

Ccino is… not sure what to say. He is mostly confused. Doesn’t… doesn’t Killer understand? Ccino just stares at him “I… I don’t? This isn’t about me? If our god-king wants something she gets it. Because it is her right.” he feels cold. Is his breathing getting faster? There is no reason to feel cold after thinking that. And even less to feel panicked and anxious. “I… I have the privilege to serve her and do as she wishes and… and…” why is this hard to say? It shouldn’t be hard to say.

Killer shakes his skull “No!” Ccino can’t help but flinch and Killer holds his hand “No. No that isn’t fair. Just because she is some king person doesn’t mean she gets to rape you whenever she fucking wants!”

Ccino frowns at him. The way he said that seems to hold weight but… Ccino never really… So he asks “You… you say that like it matters… why does it matter? What is rape?” Ccino is very confused.

Killer stares shocked before looking down as his whole body shakes. His sockets are narrowed as he straight up growls out the next sentence “Oh of course those fucking assholes didn’t bother to explain what rape is. Or abuse probably either!” Ccino feels a bit insulted. He knows what abuse is!

Killer stares at him again “It is sexual abuse, it is when someone forces sexual interactions. Stuff you don’t want to do. That is bad because it is something everyone needs to be okay with. And you aren’t okay with this.”

Ccino frowns and shakes his skull “That… that can’t be right.” his voice shakes slightly as he repeats what he said before “You need to understand. She is a god. The king of our country. What she wants is her right. Anything she wants is okay because she is a god. It doesn’t… it isn’t…”

Killer just looks at him sadly as the arms return to embrace him. Killer just keeps holding him close “What she did to you is terrible. No matter who or what she is, she shouldn’t just get to abuse people. She shouldn’t just be allowed to touch you when you don’t want her to touch you. She shouldn’t be allowed to hurt you. It isn’t right. She isn’t right.”

Ccino leans into his hold. Shaking even as he doesn’t feel cold. He needs him.

Killer whispers “Run away with me… I know it is scary and new. But I swear it will be okay. You will like Ink, he can be a lot but he is honestly a great friend! We can just skip this whole country. Is there any spot you would like to go? Anything you want to see? Like a mountain? Or a beach? I know lots of places and we can visit all of them.” he smiles at him “I will be with you the whole time.”

Ccino wants to say yes but he knows he can’t. And he feels actually close to crying when he has to admit it “I can’t…”

Killer speaks so gentle “It is okay. We will figure out how to sneak you out. I will make sure you are safe. We will be a team and both Ink and I will teach you everything about being out on the road.” And he grins charming.

Ccino actually feels some tears escape as he laughs and shakes his skull “I can’t… It would kill me…”

Killer looks confused and Ccino admits the one thing he didn’t want to admit. He taps his own sternum “Slave contract… Had it since I was seven. If I leave Nim’s side for too long it will start to burn my soul until there is nothing left.” The horrified look that covers Killer’s face does not make Ccino feel better as he continues to talk “It was a reassurance… Just making people do your tasks and orders wasn’t enough for them. They changed the contract to include consequences for running away. Or for lying.”

Killer’s arms are around him against as Ccino leans against his shoulder. Soaking up the comfort of his friend as Killer mutters that they will figure something out.

Ccino doubts it. But it is a nice thought.

At least he still has Killer, at least a little.

Nim finally finishes and the flood of magic pressing against his makes him ill but at least it is finally over. She moves around and Ccino zones out again as he just lets her do whatever.

In the end Ccino ended up regretting admitting to the slave contract. Mostly because after he thought about it he realised he was willing to do it. To run away with Killer. Would it be a painful death, yes. But, in trade for that, he would get at least two months or being happy with Killer. They could visit Killer’s favourite places. Killer could show him so many things about this world. They could truly just be a couple, at least for a little while.

Ccino ended up trying to accept the deal still. Telling Killer he wanted to run away with him. Killer had looks so excited and asked him if he figured out how to stop the contract. Ccino had smiled and explained that he hadn’t, but that it would be fine. Killer had not agreed and cancelled the whole running away thing. Ccino knows that Killer said that he didn’t want to risk Ccino and end up killing him. But Ccino can’t help but think that this isn’t living either. At least those two months he would have been truly free and happy with Killer. That was what made it worth it… but Ccino ended up not telling Killer this. Killer seemed very distressed about the whole him dying thing and accepting that, best not explain how good the deal sounded to him after some thinking.

Nim has fallen asleep. Ccino is still stuck in her too warm embrace. Guess it is another night of just him suffering the heat as he can’t sleep. He glances around and sees the curtains near the balcony being still. Seems like Killer managed to get outside and close those doors.

Ccino is sad to see him go, to have their night be cut short. Killer can’t visit that often and now Ccino can’t even ride the euphory that being with Killer brought him as Nim had ruined and dirtied those lingering feelings and touches.

He hopes he can see Killer soon again.

--

Ccino isn’t paying much attention to the healers giving him, and the harem members, their check up. it is a weekly thing, everyone who the king found worthy to have sex with is to be checked in case they managed to carry twins. Any non-twin soullings get removed in these appointments as well.

They are just part of his routine at this point.

He sits on one of the beds as he waits to hear the verdict. He has already seen two of the eight here be given the drink to terminate non-twin soullings. Ccino never had to drink one of those before but from what he heard from others it tastes rather bland. But the aftereffect leaves you feeling cold for almost a full week and some have gotten sick after consuming it.

The healers are by his side still and Ccino is slightly annoyed. They are usually faster. Though he doubts they will try anything again. Even Nigel is that bold after Nim already warned him once. Even Mar didn’t risk it after that even as they stared wishfully at Nim.

Nigel frowns slightly as he mutters some words to Mar and Mar leaves to grab something from a shelf.

Ccino doesn’t care as his mind is still filled with a light bliss. Killer had managed to come by the day before yesterday. Nim had been busy the whole day with work and her council and Killer had been ballsy enough to sneak in in bright daylight and they spend the whole day together. It was truly amazing and he has been riding that high for the last two days now.

Mar suddenly rushes over to Nim, who is standing nearby looking disappointed at the two of her harem who had to drink the soulling termination drink. Mar bows deeply to Nim and Nim focusses on them. They speak about something but they are far enough that Ccino can’t really hear it.

Nim’s flames suddenly grow brighter and higher as she rushes over towards Nigel and leans closer to the healer and Nigel shows some results and shows an orb which-

Is a mixed colour. Purple and yellow.

Ccino is shocked. One of those here is carrying twins…

The orbs will change colour to fit the energy of a soulling.

This obviously only works if the monster or human is pregnant. From what Ccino understands is that a skilled healer can feel if a soul is carrying a soulling. Than they use the orb to sense the fragile soullings soulenergy while filtering out the most available soultrait. Though the soultrait test is a lot less reliable as soullings often shift soultraits as they grow and grow most stable. Not to forget that normal monsters don’t really have an obvious soultrait marker in their souls, it often represents in their magic or small details.

This Ccino only knows as he heard the healers tell this story many times to different harem members.

The things that matters is, the fact that the orb is showing two colours. It means it is sensing two different fragile soultraits. Meaning, twins.

Nim absolutely lights up and her flames are near white with her excitement. Ccino just knows her face has the same gleefulness to it, if it hadn’t been hidden by her veil.

Everyone is watching closely.

Nim speaks full of excitement “Who is carrying my twins?”

Nigel looks almost… amused? Is that the right word? Nigel bows deeply “Well my king, It is none other than your consort of course.”

Ccino feels something in his mind break. No. No… No no no no no!

Nim turns and her veil covered face stares into his direction. Moments later she is by his side and rubs his cheek and kisses his skull “Oh my dear Lyra, you are truly perfect.”

Ccino’s mind can’t even focus on the fact she is using that name again. No. What do you mean he is carrying twins?! He never! It never happened before! He had too little energy and no magic! How could he be carrying twins?!

Ccino watches silently as the others are quickly removed from the medical room. All rushed out after their check ups finish. Nim keeps looking so fucking content as she strokes his face and arms and hands. Leaving behind tender and slightly painful marks.

Ccino isn’t even paying attention as Nigel and Mar talk to him about what he will need to do to keep the health of the new twins up. To make sure both are healthy enough to be born and how to ensure this. Something about magic transfers and confinement and rest. Ccino doesn’t like the idea of magic transfers. He always feels sick after a small magical donation and the idea of getting those almost daily doesn’t sit well with him. But he has to as apparently his body just doesn’t make enough magic to support the twins.

Ccino doesn’t understand why he can’t just eat more. Food should give energy for magic right? why can’t he just eat and get magic that way? Then again… he would grow fat and Nim doesn’t want that…

The conversation continues on for a while longer before he follows Nim out quietly.

Nim hums happily as she walks, expecting him to keep up, “Oh what a wonderous day. I just knew you would be perfect, and now you prove it even more! So perfect and just like Lyra. We will obviously need to make sure you remain nearby. But just leaving you in a room to rest? No. That is such a waste! I want everyone to see the joy, the perfection. New twins. Just in time as well.”

Ccino just nods along. Still feeling numb as he follows her footsteps. Trying not to… not to what? What does he do?

They get back to Ccino’s own room as Nim looks around it with distaste “Oh this will not work. I can not have the one carrying my twins remain here. I will have to speak with people to get your new room ready.” She nods to herself as she starts to leave.

Ccino doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get it. How did this happen?

Nim stops and turns “What do you mean? Of course I move you to a better location. You are carrying my heirs now. That means people will try to be foolish and harm you as they know they can’t harm me.”

Ccino feels even more anxiety fill him. He hadn’t even thought about that. But the matter remains. He finds his voice and mutters the next question on purpose instead of accident “How… How am I pregnant? I don’t have enough magic for that.” It is a statement. Everyone knew this was the case. No one made it a secret. The council had been displeased with him about his position of consort because he didn’t have the ability to get pregnant. They all agreed Nim was wasting precious time by having him as someone to have sex with.

Nim chuckles as she walks over “Oh that is easy.” She pulls him back and it is scorching hot as one of her hands lays over the front of him. Right where his sternum and soul are hidden behind his thin shirt. “Because I wanted you to carry them.” she leans close and whispers “don’t you feel it? It is still rather new. I did reabsorb their souls after all. It would be a waste to let all of that time and effort go to waste. Instead of wasting time with creating completely new souls for my heirs I just cleansed them.”

Ccino stands frozen as it sinks in “It… it… it are…” he stammers.

Nim hums “Dream and Nightmare. And who else by the one who already took care of them before? I knew your soul would accept the soullings transfer. You were the only choice.” A kiss to his cheek before steps leaving towards the door.

A pause.

“The perfect choice.”

The door closes.

And Ccino falls to his knees. Tears streaming down his face.

--

He feels sick. He can’t really move. The new magic injected into his system still feels wrong. It messes with his senses and his soul hurts so badly.

A wet cloth is placed on his skull and Ccino glances to the side. Robin looks at him so very worried.

Ccino frowns slightly before giving her a pointed look “You… can’t be… here… If she… if Nim finds out…” Nim had been… weirder than usual. He had been moved to this new room… two weeks? Maybe? Ago. It seems that ever since she successfully moved his soullings to his soul she has been… slipping is the best way to describe it.

She has also been calling him by the wrong name many more times. She seems to crackle brighter than ever before and mutter about taking over other lands, which is unheard of for her. Nim never cared about taking over more land or anything. To her it didn’t matter as it was just a waste of time. Why bother with countries that didn’t accept her as leader? Why bother with people who didn’t come to serve her? That is what she had always said.

Robin frowns at him as she cleans helps cool his bones “Yeah she is screaming up a storm against the guards. Something about suspicious footsteps in the garden.” She pauses and mutters “Ccino… I don’t think it is wise for… your friend to visit you…”

Ccino frowns as he shifts his skull into the pillow more “Not like… he can get in here…” it is like a locked box. There isn’t even a window. He feels locked up and uneasy. Trapped. It is too warm and he feels like he is melting from the inside out.

He knows it is impossible for Killer to find out where he is now. Ccino had to explain where his own room was to Killer before he figured out how to get there. Killer doesn’t know where he is now. and that is good. Because it means Killer can’t get into trouble for trying to get to the one carrying the heirs.

Robin mutters softly “I can… try to get a message across? Rogers will help too. Try and explain he needs to escape now…” and she waits.

And that is the problem… because Ccino doesn’t want that. Ccino truly is a terrible person, as all he wants and wishes for is Killer to be here. For even just a moment. Even when knowing how dangerous it is.

Ccino rolls up more as he can’t look at Robin “I… I don’t… I don’t know…”

Robin frowns before the door opens just an edge. Rogers is outside and whispers “The shift in the guard will be here soon. You need to go now before the next group Robin.” Rogers shoots him a smile before glancing around.

Robin nods as she gives him a gentle hug “It is okay. We will figure something out.” and she leaves the room.

He truly feels terrible as he just lays there. Prisoner of this room with only his own selfish thoughts to keep him company.

Is this… is this a punishment? From… It?

Ccino doesn’t understand. He thought… He thought he already got punished for him asking for help. For accepting help form It. That that was why It killed his twins…

But now he… he is carrying them? Little Dream and Nightmare? Both of them? It will kill him… is that punishment for no longer giving It attention? Or is this truly just Nim?

Why does he think of It as a god yet doesn’t see Nim as one?

He doesn’t know anymore…

He doesn’t… he doesn’t know what he can even do anymore.

He closes his eyes as he just wills himself to sleep. He keeps hoping he will wake up in his normal room. Hell he would even accept it being Nim’s at this point. Just not this jail anymore. Not this prison.

He thinks he falls asleep… Maybe… He isn’t fully sure. He feels sick. So very sick. He just wants to sleep and not feel anything for a while.

A soft voice gently speaking “Ccino? Ccino please… what is wrong? Are you sick? What is happening?”

Ccino frowns slightly as he opens his sockets. He glances to the side and… Killer? How… when? Is… is he asleep? This has to be a dream right?

Ccino tries to push himself up but his arms shake violently and he falls almost immediately. Killer is by him and helps him up a little “Ccino?! What is going on? Please tell me.”

Ccino sobs as he looks with a teary smile at Killer. The pain at least proves this is real. Killer found him… Killer managed to find him! He doesn’t answer right away as he just hugs Killer. Sobbing softly. He finally feels safe. The arms hold him and he wants it to never end. But… No… this is too dangerous…

He sobs as he mutters through his sniffs “You… you need… need to go… if she… if she finds you… if she figures out… you need to go…” it hurts so much. He doesn’t want him to go.

Killer shakes his skull “No. please. What is wrong? What did she do? What is this stuff?” he glances to the side where Ccino knows the magic injector lays. Killer looks so panicked.

Ccino smiles sadly and laughed “What… you haven’t heard the great news?” He keeps his smile up even if he feels it shake as his sight grows hazy with his tears “The next heirs are on their way. The next set of twins are planned to be born…” He sobs as he just leans against Killer “I don’t… I don’t want to die… I don’t… I really don’t Killer… What… what do I do?”

Killer holds him close and seems to remain quiet. Ccino just leans into the hug. He sobs as he shakes in his arms.

Killer finally finds his voice “What… what is… the injector for?”

Ccino shakes as he remembers the terrible feeling of the magic being injected. It never feels the same as his own body notices the invasive magic but can’t do anything to stop it. He shakes as he just pushes closer. Killer is familiar, Killer is safe. He can tell Killer. It is okay. He mutters “I… I don’t… have enough magic… never did… This… this is to make sure… I can carry… to term…” he shakes.

Killer pulls him closer “Why not just give you more food?! You eat like what… once a week? Why not just give you normal fucking meals?”

Ccino just lays in those arms. Leaning close as he relaxes “Can’t risk not being pretty for Nim…” he turns his face to hide it in his shoulder. The scent of the other is familiar and calms him down.

It is okay… Killer is here…

Killer holds him close against him “I… I don’t… I don’t know what to do…”

Ccino can’t help but laugh as he agrees. He doesn’t know what to do either.

They sit like that for a while. Ccino feels himself start to fall asleep again as he enjoys this moment. He isn’t sure if it will have to last him until the end and savours it. The warmth, the secure feeling, the way the other just supports his weight. It all feels so good. It feels real.

Ccino finds himself smiling a little. For a short little moment he is happy.

Killer nuzzles his skull “Is there anything I can do to help you? I can sneak in more food. I can get you more things. Anything you want.”

Cino frowns as he thinks. What is there they could do? Escape isn’t possible as Ccino can’t even walk himself anymore. Much less escape with Killer. And risking Killer to keep sneaking in isn’t fair and honestly? All he wants is just this. Killer with him and holding him.

As soon as he gets the idea he tries to ban it from his mind as he answers the other “Nothing that is… nothing that matters.”

The arms hold him tighter “Please tell me?”

Ccino feels unsure and insecure. But… but Killer wants to know right? Maybe it is okay to ask him this? “I… I wish… I wish you could stay…” he laughs softly as he pushes close “I… I am so scared. It is terrifying but… with you nearby I feel less scared…” the idea takes more of a shape in his mind. Killer could fake join the guard. Rogers could sneak him to be higher level. And then when Rogers keeps watch Killer can sneak in. Or when it is Killer’s turn he can sneak in…

Killer is very quiet and Ccino looks at him with a small smile. Only for it to fall. Because… Killer doesn’t… he doesn’t look happy… He looks unhappy and troubled as he looks to the side. Not at him.

He… doesn’t want to…

Killer speaks softly “Ccino… Ccino I am so sorry but… I can’t… I can’t stay here… I… it isn’t me… I am supposed to be out there you know.” he smiles at him but his smile falls “Ccino I…”

Ccino realises he is crying again. Shit no… He didn’t. It doesn’t matter that his soul hurts… It is fine! He is used to this. Why didn’t he expect this? He knew this… this was just… something fun for the other… It wasn’t deep like…

Ccino somehow manages to get the words out even as his voice shakes “Right… I am sorry. I know… I shouldn’t have… It isn’t fair to ask you to… give up your freedom…”

Killer looks so unsure and Ccino manages to pull away from him. He reaches a hand out but Ccino goes back to where his blanket lays. It is so cold “It is fine… I know… I know it isn’t you. I didn’t mean to imply for you to change… it was stupid to ask…”

Killer shakes his skull “It wasn’t stupid…”

Ccino refuses to look at him “It was…” and now… well “It is actually better… This… this place isn’t safe… There are too many guards and if any of them see you you could be hurt… Killer… I… I think it is best if you don’t return…”

Killer is completely quiet “But… I thought… I thought you wanted…”

Ccino feels his soul break even more “Well clearly it doesn’t matter what I want does it?! It never did!”

Silence.

“Just… Killer just leave… I can’t… I can’t deal with you being here anymore. You being here. It means you could get hurt… I can’t… I can’t keep being afraid you will get hurt being here.” Ccino holds himself “Just leave.” Softer to himself “You are good at that.”

There is a silence and Ccino isn’t even sure what he wants. Part of him never wants to see Killer again. He always knew it was just a fun thing for Killer and Ccino was the idiot for falling in love and trying to make believe this into something that mattered and wasn’t just a game to the other. Another, smaller, part of him wants Killer to hug him. To say they can keep doing what has been going on until now. That Killer doesn’t want to say goodbye.

There is a silence and then the door opens a tiny bit… and Killer is gone.

Ccino sobs as he falls over. Crying into the pillow.

He deserves this… clearly he did something to deserve this.

He isn’t sure how long he cries. How long he sobs his stupid soul out. By the time the door opens again he is just staring at the far wall. His sockets hurting and so very exhausted.

Robin joins his side. Looking worried. She speaks but her voice sounds far away. She has to ask the question a few times before it finally makes sense to Ccino.

And he tells her. He tells her what happened. Softly between shakes as his body sobs without tears and sound. That he is an idiot. That he is too blame for this. He should have known better. He should have known this could never be. Now Killer is officially gone and he is never going to get to see him again. His one escape from this everything. Gone.

Robin holds him through his sobs. Gentle in her hold and voice as she tells him it isn’t his fault. That he deserved better.

Ccino can’t find it in himself to believe her.

--

Things have been better and worse.

Better in the way that Ccino has been getting used to things. He has been getting used to the pull on his soul and energy and feeling something try to pull on the magic he doesn’t have, making him unbalanced.

Worse because… well… Everything honestly. He hates having to deal with Nim’s council. He hates having Nim be so delighted and around him the whole time. He hates himself for waiting each night only to cry when no one comes to visit him.

He wishes he could have been brave enough to just run. To just run and die far away from this place.

Nim is looking at reports as Ccino walks by her side. His heart hurting with a starting migraine from all the light and conversations. Nim just speaks about what will come next and what to expect. What will change and how things need to be perfect.

Ccino doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to hear. He doesn’t care about this stupid country. He doesn’t care about her. He. Just. Doesn’t. Care!

He just wants to sleep. Sleep and cry more. But even the little privacy he had for that has gone as Nim hovers. Hands always touching somewhere and making him feel sick.

Nim hums as she trails her hand “But that is for later. I believe I have some time and I wish to spend it enjoying you. It has been much too long since I had that chance.”

Yesterday morning to be exact. Ccino still feels sore and pain from it which the transfer magic just makes worse.

He doesn’t want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to even think about it. He wants to hear anything else. Anything!

He speaks without thinking. “Who is Lyra?”

A moment of silence and Ccino feels like he overstepped as he mutters much softer “It is… You have spoken about this person with fondness before my king. I was curious who could receive such an honour.” And he waits nervously.

Nim stares ahead of her, the way she holds herself is different. She seems… distracted? She speaks softly “Lyra was… Come. I will show you.” and she walks. Ccino blinks and rushes after her even as his body protests.

They go towards Nim’s private wing and follow along some halls until they reach a door but there is no handle or even lock. Nim holds her hand against it and it seemingly melts away. A door only Nim herself can open it seems.

Nim walks inside and motions for him to follow. Ccino follows her in and glances around the small extra room. It is a small bedroom, much like his own private room used to be. But this one is themed with yellows, oranges and reds. Bright and everywhere. The bed is just a frame and the bookcase is empty. There is a large hanger with many dresses and Ccino thinks they look a lot like the ones Nim usually gives him to wear.

Then he glances at where Nim is standing. Her frames illuminating a large painting. It is made with oil paints and the frame is a golden and copper colour. The picture itself is one of Nim sitting on her throne but by her side stands a skeleton. They are wearing a bright orange dress and have a bright smile on their face. Their face is still young, maybe twenty-ish? They have bright orange eye lights and small orange freckles all over their face. They are really pretty.

Nim stares at the painting and hovers her hand near “Lyra.”

Ccino frowns at Nim and waits.

Nim stares at the painting fondly “She was there since the start. For as long as I remembered. My father made sure I had the best as was my right. I had people waiting my every comment and need. Lyra was always there first. She was perfect. She knew what I wanted, when I needed. Would sing and dance and paly music.” The almost tender look breaks away from her face as possessiveness takes over “When I ascended. When I took my birthright. I sought her out. It was only fitting that my first night was with someone perfect just like me.”

Ccino feels uneasy. It is not a good thing she sees her lost… love?  Affection? In him. He glances at the painting “What… happened?” old age? An accident? Assassination?

Nim sighs sadly “Oh she was perfect in every way. It was to be expected she carried my twins for me. That she carried them to completion and to birth.”

Ccino frowns, that can’t be right… “I thought… Dream’s and Nightmare’s mother had been Setta?” Ccino met that woman! And she hadn’t looked like the skeleton in the painting.

Nim frowns at him for a moment before laughing “Oh I am not talking about her. The only thing good about her is that she managed to give me twins. But well, that wasn’t that amazing after all of both of them had been weak.” Ccino feels a rage but keeps it contained. Them getting sick hadn’t been their fault! That isn’t how sickness works!

Nim stares back at the painting “Lyra gave me my first twins. Twin girls. Both looking just like her. Of course, after Lyra’s soul burst with the twin’s birth I killed the twins.”

Ccino stares. In disbelieve with how casually she mentions it. As if it is just remembering what her dinner had been. Not that she killed two babies. Nim continues on as if she doesn’t notice his horror “I realised that it was much too soon to pass the torch of godhood. I had only been a god for five years at that point and I hadn’t even been trying to make twins. I killed them to ensure my rule.” She stares at the paining and her hand strokes the cheek of the skeleton in it “They looked too much like her… They were unworthy of being like her. Or daring to remind me of her.”

Ccino stares at Nim. Fear for his twins filling him “What… what about… my twins?”

Nim blinks and looks long at him “It is time I pass on the torch. You have perfect timing for my new heir.” She smiles as she glances back at the painting “I like it when things are perfect.”

Ccino nods as he is quick to agree “You do deserve perfection.”

Nim looks pleased as she motions towards the exit. Ccino leaves quickly and walks with her. Very little of the day getting through to him as Nim goes about her day criticizing people. His mind keeps turning back to the fact that she… she killed… he is scared for his twins…

Eventually he is left in his prison again. He sits on the soft bed and just stares at the mostly empty room. It truly is just a room for him to rest and that is it. Just a soft bed with soft pillows and warm blankets. Just a shame that it is always too warm and hot in here.

He just sits on the bed and pulls his knees close to hug. He had been so worried about dying that he hadn’t even worried if his twins would be left in an okay place. He knows this place is terrible. He had seen how unfairly Dream and Nightmare had been treated!

The same will happen to them again, if Nim didn’t lie of course. There is a very high chance she lied and the soullings in his soul aren’t Dream and Nightmare. Even if they are still his twins now…

He is confused… He expected himself to hate them… he hates this pregnancy, he hates his situation, he hates this place… but he doesn’t hate the small soullings he has. He finds himself loving them.

Something is seriously wrong with him.

Soft knocks and the door opens just a bit. Rogers glances in and frowns “Ccino sir?”

Ccino just rolls up more.

A moment of silence before the door closes and footsteps come near him. The bed dips in a bit and Rogers speaks softly “Hey… what is wrong?”

Ccino shakes “She killed them.”

Rogers frowns as he holds his hand “You mean… Nim killed Dream and Nightmare?”

Ccino shakes and shakes his skull “No… well she did that too… but before that… she had other children. Another set of twins… she killed them…” he hugs his knees closer causing them to dig into his own chest “How… how can I be sure she won’t just… kill mine? When I am gone? I couldn’t even protect Dream and Nighty… How will I protect these.” He sobs as he glances at Rogers.

Rogers holds him as he shakes “I am not going to be able to protect them. They are going to take them and force them into those horrible roles of before.” And Ccino won’t even be able to protect them this time. Not like he did a good job before obviously but he now can’t even try. He is too weak.

Rogers keeps holding him “We will still be here Ccino. Please don’t think we would just abandon them.”

Ccino stares at Rogers “huh?”

Rogers gives a small smile as he puts an arm around him to keep him stable “It is all we can do… Sorry we can’t do more…”

Ccino frowns “What do you mean? Do more?”

Rogers frowns as he looks at the door “I am not sure… I… I am sorry… Robin and I tried to… search for a way to help you… We spoke with healers and realised there were two options really but…” he looks at him “We didn’t think you would be okay with someone removing the soullings.”

Ccino looks up shocked and stares “What…?”

Rogers sighs and looks at him. He looks tired. “Ccino… We see this destroying you. You are dying… We… we just want to help. And one of the options was well… removing what was killing you.” and he looks at him.

Ccino slowly shakes his skull as he tries to cover the spot where his soul hides with his twins. Rogers grins and waves at him “Yeah. That is what we figured. We had another option… On some of my missions and heard about a soulling transfer. Usually when the one originally carrying isn’t strong or healthy enough to carry the soulling a transfer is done as a last resort. We searched for people who could do this procedure for you but… It is only an option in Sanctuary.” And he looks so disappointed “I am sorry… I swear we tried to find solutions… to save you and both your twins… We are sorry.”

Ccino stares in shock… He had thought… He hadn’t thought they would… “Nim would have never allowed it…”

Rogers shrugs “Robin had been okay with carrying one of the twins for you. We would have lied and just said the child was Robin’s and mine’s. You would still show all the signs. Than when it was ready for the twins to be born Robin would sneak the child back to you…” Rogers laughs and shakes his head “But there is no way to have gotten you there for the treatment needed. And there is no way such a specialist healer would be willing to come here.” He smiles.

Ccino feels a shock but a small warmth starts to spread in his soul. His friends truly… truly care for him? He can’t help but smile as he leans against one of his only two true friends “Thank you.”

Rogers snorts “We did nothing… It ended up a disappointment.”

Ccino shakes his skull as he leans against the other “You two tried to help. You two worked hard to find solutions and ways to help me… I appreciate it more than anything. Thank you.”

Rogers keeps holding him “You did so much for Robin and me both Ccino… Of course we try to help you as well.”

Ccino snorts “Seriously? Robin was always helping me. Not the other way around. And all I ever did for you was just… normal stuff? Be nice?” he smiles at the other.

Rogers grins “It would surprise you how much that matters Ccino. To have someone just be friendly and not tell you your every action is wrong and that you ruin everything by just trying.” He sighs “I always believed that serving god-king Nim would be the greatest honour. That it would be the way to a bright future and work towards that… Everything I have seen here. Heard here? Everything was fake. You helped me see through that façade Ccino.” He nudges their shoulders together “And in the end I gained two friends…”

Ccino smiles as he leans against his friend. Letting himself relax just a little. Knowing that his two friends will be there for his twins after he is gone. That everything won’t just be in vain.

--

Ccino is just listening as the council and Nim talk about future plans and ideas for how to proceed. They are asking her how she plans to finish a war before the birth of the new twins and Nim seems to consider this as she looks at the timeline. Seems like she had been serious about wanting more land. The council however are unsure. Mentioning how they will need to spend time and resources on the twins over a war.

Honestly with how they talk about these factors they imply that raising two children is as difficult as winning a war. Then again they plan to poison his twins’s minds and opinions so maybe it does take some time and resources.

The people on the council had shot him looks when Nim walked in with him by her side but no one dared to go against their god and king. Ccino had sat down and acted as if he wasn’t there. Still listening of course but acting as if he didn’t pay attention.

Nim feels unimpressed “I want Ironfields to be added to my territory. And as it is my wish, it is my right as god living among the mortals.”

Aurora, a deer monster, glances at the reports “And we agree our king. But with the twins on their way isn’t it best to postpone your planned victory until after they are born and situated?”

Nim sighs as she waves a hand “By then I will be gone and Dream will have taken over my godhood.”

Ccino blinks and looks over “What?”

Someone in the council glares at him but Ccino doesn’t care as he focusses on Nim “What… what do you mean? Isn’t that… how could they be crowned when they are just born?” that makes no sense?!

Nim looks at him and the veil doesn’t show any of her emotions but the glee is clear in the room as she sends those out. “It is about time I pass my godhood. It is best to pass it early to ensure it remains at strength. As soon as our twins are born. I will give my powers over to Dream. Trusting my magic to guide him to do his next step.”

Ccino stares as his mind spins. Does… does she mean that… when Ccino’s… when his babies are finally back. After all this time… They will just be… alone again? Nim isn’t a good mother or parent but she is still their parent! He had… why had he thought that she would help them? He had hoped that someone would look after them like he had before.

But… but if they expect them… if they immediately expect Dream to take over… to ascend. He won’t even get the most basic of childhoods. He won’t even get the chance to be before he is trust into the role of god king…

Dream and Nightmare won’t even get the chance to be twins or brothers or friends. Not at all.

“No.”

A silence follows that single word.

Nim slowly turns back to him “Excuse you.”

Ccino stares ahead of him before staring right at Nim. A rage unlike anything before enters his whole being as he glares “I. Said. No.” He knows his face hardens as he stands there. In front of their god king. In front of the whole council which he means nothing to.

Nim stares at him through her veil. He can feel the weight of the gaze. The air mirrors her emotions as they turn bemused “Oh really. No?”

Ccino nods “No. Dream will not immediately ascend. Neither of them will. They are babies!” He stressed the word. He can’t believe she would… That any of them would!

Someone snorts and Ccino thinks he hears something about him being overemotional but Ccino easily ignores them. He focusses on Nim.

The bemusement turns amused as she walks over to him “I will ignore that you spoke against me. You care too much about things that do not matter dear.” A hand strokes his cheek “All that matters… Is me. And what I wish.”

He feels the magic in the very old contract tighten around his soul. It hadn’t felt and hurt like this in ages. Not since the start. Not since he learned to follow the silent orders and requests. Until it became second nature.

No. No.

He takes a few steps back, ripping himself away from her touch “Don’t touch me! You do not get to hurt my twins!” He raises both his hands over his sternum as he glares “I don’t care what you want them to be! They are mine now too, just as much mine as they are yours and I say no!” He glares. His gaze is growing hazy as the pressure around his mind and soul increase. “And I say that they get to be children! They get to grow up! Just like they did before! They deserve a chance to be happy after you murdered them for no reason!”

Silence around them, or maybe they are screaming. Ccino doubts he could have heard them over the ringing in his skull. His body is starting to shake to keep standing. To keep speaking against what is expected of him.

The amusement turns to rage and pushes down on him. It is hard to keep upright.

“How dare you speak out against your king!” She is enraged. Furious.

There should be fear. But the thought of his twins. Finally returned and him gone as he dies. Left with nothing. Left with no one. No one to hold them. No one to love them. No one to tell them it will be okay. That they are so good, and smart, and amazing. That they are perfect just the way they are. All because she wants them to be what she wants?! After she betrayed them!

Ccino forces his sockets back open and his eye lights to focus on the burning flame in front of him. It is warm. It is burning hot in matter of fact. Her rage burns around them. It is scorching. But Ccino focusses as he stares at her.

“You are not my king.” With each word he speaks he finds himself standing taller “My order was to serve the future king. Nd the future king is a soulling in my own soul at this very moment. I served you, did what you wanted, all of it. Because you were supposed to have the wellbeing of the next king in mind. But you are no longer acting in his best interest, maybe you never were.” The pressure is gone. He stands upright as he stares at her It is hard to see her, it is hard to feel his mouth and body “You are not my king. You are not my god. You are a brat throwing a tantrum each time you do not get what you want. And I can know as I raised your children for you once before. And I will not let you hurt them.”

The room showcases how furious she is. But Ccino can’t see her anymore. It is all hazy and clouded. He can’t quite focus. What… what is he doing again? Why is he here?

Nim’s voice sounds far away “You will be punished for this-”

“I am not done speaking.”

Wait… did he say something? He thought his mouth moved… but everything is hazy… He can’t think… He is so tired.

“You are no king, and surely no god. You took powers that were never yours to take.” He is saying… something? Maybe? Ccino isn’t sure… He thinks he is speaking but he can’t hear it…

“You are a disgrace. Your whole family line before you is. You were never allowed to take this magic. To use and abuse it. It was not yours to take. He was not yours to take.”

There is… rage? But it feels different. Not like Nim’s… But different… It reminds him of when Ccino got angry on behave of his twins. When he caught sight of Nightmare cutting his hand to practise for rituals. Of when Dream was sobbing because people told him he wasn’t working hard enough and the stress got to him…

“But I am here once again. I am here to reclaim what is rightfully mine. You will be forgotten. You will no longer poison this land. Your touch will no longer hurt him. Ans his twins will no longer have to fear for your disapproval. You will just be a bad memory, but one that will face with time. And you will be forgotten as the land heals from you and your ancestors abuse.”

A loud crack of something. Like wood splintering. Like earth moving as a landslide. It is loud and harsh. The ground shakes under him but Ccino doesn’t feel himself fall. He is… still standing? How is he standing? He should have collapsed right?

He is so tired…

The pain around his soul and mind finally fully disappear. The harsh light and heat around him is gone. And his mind finally goes blissfully silent as he feels himself slip away.

----

His body feels sore… Not like when Nim touched him… but like when he used to run around the castle for a long day. After a long day of working. As if he exercised too much.

It is strange.

Ccino groans as he pushes his skull into the soft pillow under him before he frowns. It feels… like cotton? Not like the silk that is in Nim’s room or his prison room? But he has had to sleep there for ages now. Why would he be in his own room?

He forces his eyes open and looks around confused. The first thing he sees is the crystal glass rose that Killer gave him a long time ago. Still safely on his nightstand. It truly is his room. He glances to the side and sees his own window, cracked open with a few flower pots with different plants in them. All were gifts from when Killer still entertained Ccino’s delusional ideas. That Killer had truly loved him. Ccino would be given plants from every place Killer visited. All the native plants. Killer ahd told him that it was the least he could do, with Ccino being unable to visit those places he could take a little of them back to Ccino.

His room? But…

“Ccino!! You are alive!” Two arms lock around him and Ccino is shocked.

Mostly because it is very out of character for Rogers to do that?

Ccino stares at his friend “Rogers? What… What is going on? Why wouldn’t I be alive?” He isn’t near his due-date yet. Sure he isn’t the healthiest but there is no reason why he would die quickly.

Rogers pulls back a little and seems to look him over. Ccino can’t help but notice the dark marks under his eyes. Rogers looks thinner and paler than usual. He is exhausted. Ccino frowns at him “Have you been resting? Eating okay? You look…”

Rogers laughs “Like shit? You can say it. Robin says it all the time.” As soon as he says that he walks towards the side of the door and rings a string there-

Wait… since when does his room have a system to call for a servant? Ccino doesn’t have that… He glances around the room again and frowns. He… thinks this is his room but it feels… different… Was his room always this large? That can’t be right.

Rogers returns to his side “Robin will be here soon. She was getting food for us and will now also get some for you.”

Ccino blinks and mutters, mostly out of habit “I don’t think it is my eat day.”

Rogers waves it off “Oh don’t worry. No one will try to tell you what to do at the moment.” He looks deeply amused by this.

Ccino stares at his friend “What… What do you mean?”

Rogers’s grin falls as he looks unsure “Wait… you don’t remember?”

Ccino feels himself frown as he thinks back. He was with Nim at the council… They… were planning things? For the future? Like always? Ccino keeps frowning as he stares down “I… I am not sure? I was at the council meeting right? With the king? I…” his mind remains blank. Nothing connects for a while. All he can hear is soft rustling of leaves and he glances upwards before staring “Why are there vines alone the ceiling with leaves?”

Rogers looks shocked but before he can say a word the door opens and Robin rushes inside. Ccino manages a glance and sees there are two guards outside but they are staying far away from the door.

Robin just stands there for a moment. By the door. She pushes the plates she is carrying on top of the dresser before rushing to his side and two arms lock around him again. Another familiar embrace and Ccino hugs his friend close and sighs. It is good to be with his friends. They rarely get the chance to spend time together with how much Nim had been-

Nim!!

Ccino glances around worried “Is this… Okay? What is Nim finds out?” He doesn’t want to get his friends hurt because he is weak and needs their support!

Robin frowns as she looks obviously confused “Ccino what do you mean?”

Ccino looks between his friends confused as he starts to feel like he missed something very important. Luckily Rogers shakes his head at Robin “Robin… It can honestly wait. He doesn’t remember. Lets first eat.”

Robin blinks before nodding “Yeah… Yeah honestly that is fine. I don’t think there really is a rush at this point?” she walks back to the plate and brings it over. Ccino glances at it and sees cut fruits and some bowls with yogurt. Robin grabs the smallest bowl and puts some banana and apples into it. She mixes it and even adds a little bit of honey. She hands it to him with a spoon “Eat.”

Ccino blinks “But it isn’t my-”

Robin glares at him and Ccino feels himself stop talking. Robin stares him down “You are going to eat that. Take as much time as you want. Eat it slowly. Savour every bite if you want. But eat.” She looks close to begging “Please. Just eat. Don’t worry about punishment okay? I swear it is safe. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She really wouldn’t. Ccino takes a small bite as he watches Robin and Rogers getting their own bowl ready. It is nice. To just enjoy a moment together with his two friends. They eat their own food and they seem relaxed. And if they are relaxed it is really okay… right? Otherwise they wouldn’t be this calm.

Even with it being a small bowl Ccino can’t eat it all. He feels full and thinks he will start to feel sick or need to vomit if he eats anything else. Robin doesn’t mention it as she takes the bowl and puts it aside. Afterwards she sits by his side and checks him quickly. Check if he can stand, if his coordination is fine, check his relaxes.

Robin sighs in relieve as she sits back “Okay. You are actually okay…” she hugs him again.

Ccino nods “I feel fine…” Better than fine now he has some actual food. He feels less light headed already and less shaky. Even if he can handle both just fine at this point it is more comfortable even if he feels heavy and full and there is still the worry that he did something wrong by eating. “Will you two please tell me what is going on?”

Robin looks unsure as she glances at Rogers. Rogers leans closer “What do you remember. And take your time. Maybe something else came back?”

Ccino frowns as he concentrates “I was at the council meeting with god king Nim… They were discussing plans about how she wanted to take over Ironfields. Invade and concur. They spoke about how the timing was off for it as the twins are on their way and-” He freezes “She wanted… she wanted… To pass on her crown… as soon as they were born.” Both Robin and Rogers look up shocked. Ccino feels his breathing pick up a bit as memories flash through his mind “I… I panicked… I spoke out…” He can’t believe… How did he? How did he manage? “It…” he remembers how his mind and soul had felt on fire. To go against what he was ordered to do. To just support and serve. To stand against it. “It hurt but… She wanted to… take their lives away again. Before they even had a chance to be and… and…” he frowns “Then it went black…” He looks at his two friends “How am I still alive?” Or better why isn’t he locked up? Why does he still have his tongue or his ability to speak? Why is he still comfortable after that?

Robin presses a little bit “And that was all? Nothing after that?”

Ccino shakes his skull “I… I think more happened? But I wasn’t all there? I felt…” he frowns “There was this rage… but it wasn’t… her rage…” he knows what her emotions feel like. The way she forces them all to feel it. To know what she feels at all times and to take that into account. “It felt different… I am just sure it wasn’t hers…”

Robin nods and looks at Rogers “I wasn’t there myself but Rogers was.”

Rogers nods “I was guarding the door.” Ccino nods as he remembers him standing there when he followed their king inside “And I am not sure about the details. I just know we heard Nim yell and so we entered.��� Ccino frowns. Rogers, and Robin for that matter, never risked referring to Nim with just Nim.

“We ran in and let me tell you. It was insane. There was magic everywhere. Nim was burning brighter than the sun. But you just stood there. In the middle of the inferno but something was off. The way you were standing wasn’t like you. It was much more hostile. Your sockets were alit with magic. This yellowish green. Like newly grown leaves.” Ccino just stares in shock. Him… magic? Rogers continues “You were speaking but it wasn’t your voice. It was something else we think. It spoke about how Nim wasn’t worthy of the power she had abused. Of the title she had unrightfully gotten. It spoke about how she didn’t deserve you Ccino.”

Ccino blinks as he is starting to get a sinking feeling.

Rogers grins at him “How she is no longer allowed to be near either you or your twins. And it called them yours, not hers. And then…” Rogers seems to look for words as he glances at the walls “You know how we all talk about how the walls seem almost tree like in nature? How we always compare it to roots, or vines, or tree trunks or something like that?” He waits until they both nod and then he continues “The very floor shifted. It split apart and roots started to climb up Nim. Even as she tried to burn them nothing happened. She shot a fire ball at you Ccino but a vine was lightning fast as it intercepted it. Rendering it useless… The… the floor, the castle itself, swallowed Nim whole.”

Ccino stares at his hands. His mind spinning. It… It… Why did It… after Ccino… Why?

“Obviously. After that it was chaos. You stood frozen for a few more moments before you fell over unconscious. The very roots that had pulled Nim into the ground caught you instead and laid you down carefully on the ground. Someone in the guard walked closer with a raised weapon and a vine impaled him.” Rogers stresses the word “Again, chaos. Then… the priest spoke up. Said that it must have been the power. The very thing granting their kings the power to become god. And that by it rejecting Nim it showed that Nim had failed it but by granting you mercy it must still see a future in your twins… Or something like that, honestly at the time I was in shock.” Rogers shrugs a little “After that I offered to bring you to a room to rest. They had looked at me like I was insane but I figured if whatever this was wanted to protect either you or the twins it wouldn’t hurt me as I never wanted anything but you all to be okay and healthy.” He looks a little smug “And I was right, as I was allowed near without issue and was allowed to carry you out…”

Robin speaks up next “This is when I met up with you two. But the vines themselves locked away other rooms and entrances. It kept people away. We got lead to this room, your room. We have been taking turns to remain by your side as the other works and sees what is going on and happening.”

Ccino’s mind is spinning. What is he supposed to think? He thought that It. He isn’t even sure what he thought anymore or what he was supposed to think.

He is confused.

That is a good summary of how he feels. Confused.

Ccino stares down “It… doesn’t make sense…” None of this does.

Rogers and Robin share a look as Robin smiles “Maybe whatever the power is saw you are actually good? A good person? And decided to want to help you?”

Ccino shakes his skull as he glances to the side. He eyes the door but it is closed and he knows his room is secure, Killer and him were never caught after all and they used to hang out in his room before Ccino moved to Nim’s permanently…

And if… if It truly is helping him… then It won’t let anyone hear this conversation… right? They never heard him in the tunnels and that has to be It’s doing…

Ccino speaks softly “It… doesn’t make sense because… I was sure It was mad at me…” There.

Rogers and Robin both look confused before Robin’s eyes widen “You know what the power is?”

Ccino shakes his skull “No… I never knew what It was… I just knew It was there…” he rubs his arms “It used to… help… Remember how I… would show up in places? Very quickly? That sometimes I just seemed to disappear and reappear? Remember how ages ago I told you I used a tunnel that you knew didn’t exist?”

Robin gives a slow now. Her eyes wide in shock. Ccino nods “It… would make these tunnels. Or small staircases or areas I could climb up or down. Small pathways all around the castle. It was easy to get places as the tunnels were always only one path. No turns or twists. Just a straight path from A to B which was much quicker than should have been possible…”

Rogers frowns “If this being helped you… why did you think they were mad at you?”

Ccino looks down at his hands and mutters “It made them sick… It caused the sickness that fell over them…”

There is a silence as Ccino feels the grief as strongly as always. He misses his twins so much. He knows that Nim said their souls are within his now but Ccino doesn’t believe it, he can’t let himself start to hope to see them again only to not see them. He can’t do that to himself. He can also not do that to his babies. He will only get a short time to meet them, if he is lucky and his soul manages to hold on for a bit longer, he needs to shower them with love and affection when he can. Need to make sure those two new souls feel loved and cared for.

“What if it wasn’t against you?”

Ccino blinks and looks up at Rogers.

Rogers is still frowning as he speaks “Everyone knew that the twins died and that Nim let it happen. We all heard the statement she made that the twins had gotten weak and sick and unworthy of the title as her heir… but that was her choice…” Rogers gives him a sad smile “Am I right?”

Right… Ccino had been the only one of the three of them who had been close to the twins before. Robin worked with the other maids mainly and Rogers hadn’t even been working here at that point…

Ccino nods and quietly tells them about how Nim had the option to help them. To give them strength to recover but that she denied them that.

Rogers nods as he speaks “I think… Maybe it wasn’t something against you or your twins… But against Nim. A test maybe?” He looks sheepish “I won’t lie and say I know how gods or deities or spirits work. But… Maybe it wasn’t meant to hurt you or them… maybe it was just meant to be some sort of test for Nim? Which she failed horribly in a way that went much worse than it expected?”

Ccino frowns as he pulls on his own hands slightly. Making the joints between his fragile bones stretch “It… it doesn’t matter… what do I do now?” How is he supposed to deal with this? People will want answers and he doesn’t have them!

Robin shrugs “Just let the priest figure stuff out.”

Rogers looks disapproving at her “Robin.”

Robin glances back at him “What? I am serious. We don’t know the answers and no one is going to expect us to know. Ccino went unconscious which could mean many things. They are not going to risk his or the twins health. Especially not with the deity having made clear that it does not approve of anyone harming Ccino, or the twins.” She crosses her arms “I say. We focus on making sure you” she looks at Ccino “And your twins are healthy while we just pay attention. We stick nearby, act invisible as they all want. Let them forget we are nearby and than we just listen. We will pay attention to what they say.”

Ccino just feels more unsure “And what if they do demand me to do stuff? What if they see this as a sign that I… I… Like have those stupid powers?! I can’t do magic!” He stresses the words and feels his voice go higher with his panic.

Rogers taps his chin and shrug “Just say stuff? Say you haven’t heard a specific message yet. That for now it means that they want everyone to follow what they said before.”

Ccino turns slowly to Rogers “You want me to just… use the situation?!”

Rogers makes a so-so sign “Just a little. Just enough to make sure you are safe. Again, only if they start demanding you give them answers.”

Ccino covers his face “This is going to end horribly.”

Robin hums as she pushes him to lay down and tugs him in “Maybe. But you are alive. You are awake. Your twins are still with you, and Nim is gone. I think that means you can take a moment to just rest. Sleep peacefully knowing nobody will come and ruin it for you.” she smiles “We will just have to see what happens. But if we play our few cards right we can make this work in our adventage.”

Ccino looks unsure “But we don’t have any kind of power here… At all.” Just like always they are powerless.

Robin grins “Not exactly. We have one very powerful card at least. That is that we know you don’t have any true connection to it. I have heard them mutter about it picking you as vessel while it waits for the new god-king to be born. Others say that Nim was never the other parent but the power itself was.”

Ccino shoots her a look at that one as he knows that is not how soullings are made and everyone knows that. Robin grins “The point is. Everyone is confused. Everyone is looking for answers and any answer is possible. You didn’t just reshuffle the deck Ccino. You changed out the entire game… and everyone thinks you are the only one with the rulebook. Use that. Use them thinking you know even if you don’t.”

Ccino frowns as he considers it. He still isn’t a fan of lying. But if he words stuff right… if he is vague… maybe?

Rogers nods “But that is for later. I am going to stand guard for the next shift while Robin works. Do you need anything?”

Ccino shakes his head but even then Robin still promises to bring him something to drink that is nutritious. Ccino is noticing a very suspicious absent of the injector and magic vials and Ccino is pretty sure that either Robin or Rogers made it disappear. Maybe they loudly questioned if the power of the god-kings would approve or just any magic being injected into the one carrying the next generation…

Ccino snorts as he rolls up in his blanket. It is soft. It is familiar. The door closes as his two friends leave to work.

Ccino glances up at the ceiling before he mutters “I… I am sorry… I just… it hurt a lot to lose them… It was easier to blame you and ignore you… than to admit that only Nim was at fault and knowing I could do nothing to get rid of the anger and fear and… I am sorry… I know it is a bad excuse and…” rustling.

Ccino glances upwards and sees a lot of tiny flowers start to bloom. All along the ceiling and top of the bedposts. The flowers themselves are full and seem to have double blossoms. He can’t quite see in the low light but thinks they may be pink? Carnations? Maybe…?

Ccino yawns as he falls asleep. For the first time in a long time feeling a little bit safe. He is okay… It is okay...

--

He glances over the wall and quickly ducks down again. Shit more guards.

Seriously did that abusive asshole up the guards again?! Honestly you would think she is insecure with the amount of guards.

He huffs as he glances around. He could double back and go through the garden again. Use the bushes as cover as he makes his way to the castle…

He sighs as he rubs his cheek, flicking the tar like tears off of his hand. This is such a mess… It never was this hard to sneak in before. Killer can know as he used to do this monthly! And the only reason he didn’t do it more often was because he and Ink had work and missions to do!

Killer sees his chance and rushes behind some guards. He manages to get past the first open space and quickly dives into one of the servant tunnels to get into the cellar.

Killer is a fucking idiot.

He had been miserable for the last month. Just staring ahead and be distracted. It had come to an end because Ink, INK, had told him that if he wanted to see his boyfriend so badly he should just go to him.

So now Killer is here, right in the capital sneaking into the castle to see if he can beg and gravel enough to get Ccino to give him another chance.

Killer is still mentally working on his apology. He hasn’t come much further than admitting he is a coward and an idiot.

Ccino had asked him to stay, and Killer had said no. You know. Like an asshole.

But then Killer had the fucking nerve to feel hurt when Ccino asked him to not return. No Killer said no to giving Ccino even the tiniest bit of comfort and support while he was struggling but Killer got sad that Ccino didn’t want to also risk more trouble if Killer was discovered.

Killer pops his skull out of the panel and glances around. Wine barrels all around but no actual people. Killer climbs out of the tunnel and carefully and quietly closes the panel again. He inches towards the ladder and slowly climbs it.

Killer had left, as asked, and been sad and miserable. Worse that with time it became painfully obvious that Killer had truly valued his own freedom over the time he spend with Ccino, as if those can not go together.

How selfish is he? That Killer is unwilling to let Ccino choose his own freedom? But makes sure Killer keeps it himself?

Killer gets out of the cellar and glances around the hall. He goes from shadow to shadow as he tries to move quietly but remain on the move. It is important that he doesn’t stop. If he stops he can be spotted and discovered. Movement is your friend in this situation.

Killer truly can’t stand the idea of living in a world without Ccino. And because Killer is weak and a coward he denied Ccino his own freedom. He denied him the chance to live.

Killer had figured… That even if Ccino was stuck here that he could keep visiting him. Keep bringing him gifts and presents. Little pieces of the world that Killer himself was keeping him away from.

Killer groans as he puts his face into his hands “Focus focus. Just. Focus. Get to his room.” Prison “And just… Make it okay!” Well not okay… “Okay. Make it a bit better!” He just wants to see him so badly. He wants to hear him speak. Even if it is to shout at him!

Killer’s mind hisses at the very thought. Ccino would never. He is too kind and an actual good person. Even when Killer denied him everything he wanted each time over and over he was always nice. He is too nice.

This fucking world does not deserve him… Killer doesn’t deserve him.

Killer glances around the corner and rushes over towards the next hallway. This part sucks as he just needs to run to get there.

He still isn’t sure how to tell him he is sorry. That the truth was that he was terrified of losing the person he was. That he was afraid that staying in the castle would make him lose himself. That he is sorry that he wasn’t strong enough. It wouldn’t have even been forever! Ccino… had already been…

It had been a matter of time…

He could have handled it. He should have been able to handle it!

He finds the door and grins. Finally. It is tugged away deep in the castle. Only one door and no windows. The fact the door is only lockable form the outside still gives Killer the bad shivers. He kneels down and takes out his lock picks. A push here and-

The door opens immediately.

Killer sits frozen for a moment but no one walks out. He frowns and nudges the door open…

Only to find the room completely empty.

Killer stares.

No. No no no… There is no way. There is no way he is… gone… there is no way!

Maybe… Maybe Nim was being a freak again? An asshole and a rapist and abuser? Maybe Ccino was in Nim’s room? Because Nim was a piece of shit and wanted to hurt him?

Killer rushes down the halls again. New destination clear in mind.

It was a risk to go through the castle instead through the outside but he needs to see him. Please. Please still be okay. Don’t make him have lost him already. He thought… He had hoped he would have at least a little while. To hold him and actually be there for him for once. To feel that love a little bit longer even if Ccino hated him now.

He rushes past guards and can’t help but notice there are a lot more guards than usual. There is a nervous energy in the air and Killer just pushes his limbs to move faster.

He finally finds the king’s room and he listens. He hears nothing. He sees no bright light under the door… He unlocks this door and pushes the door open.

The room is familiar… but empty again.

He wants to cry. No please. He knows… he knows he doesn’t deserve it… he knows he ruined the most beautiful thing and he ever had and his soul hurts. But he had just wanted to see him… to apologise and at least try to be there for the other. At least for a little bit.

He rubs his sockets to wipe the stupid tears away. No. Don’t. You aren’t allowed to do that. You don’t deserve to be sad about it when you are part of the cause of it.

Footsteps and he glances around. He rushes towards the balcony and pretty much launches himself out of it. He grabs some vines and hangs there silently. There is silence before the door is closed again.

Okay. What now? Killer has no idea what to do now. He hadn’t considered the thoughts that maybe Ccino would be gone already….

He sighs as he leans his skull against the wall.

This he does deserve. To live with this regret for the rest of his life.

He sighs as he glances around before noticing something… There is a rose growing on the vine… That is new. He leans backwards a bit and notices that the roses are following one direction specifically. It takes him a moment but he ends up following. May as well and his curiosity is peaked.

He ends up climbing along the wall of the tower which leads to be almost above the courtyard. He follows it back down a bit as his mental map of the place shifts to give him a general idea of where he is and-

The flowers bloom most by a very, very, small balcony… One he knows so well.

Ccino and him used to sit there, hidden by darkness and the banister. Talking and laughing softly until deep in the evening. He gave Ccino their first kiss right there…

Killer ends up standing there as he glances inside.

There is a shadow in Ccino’s bed. His soul speeds up and he rushes inside.

He is here. The light feeling in his soul is overwhelming. It is too much and he dashes towards the bed. To be by his side. He smiles and sits down on the bed and checks his face. He is asleep. He looks exhausted but he is here and alive and Killer could cry!

Ccino hums sleepily as his sockets open just a bit and they are staring at one another. Killer holds his breath as Ccino looks confused at him “Killer?” he sounds so tired.

Killer feels any hesitation melt away when Ccino just looks at him. There is not a smitch of hate on his face. Just soft confusion. Killer smiles as he carefully wraps his arms around the other “Hey… I am here…” He is here.

Ccino stares at him before a soft smile covers his face. It is beautiful. Ccino hums as he pushes close into his arms “Mmh… This is my favourite dream…”.

It takes a moment before Killer can focus on what he said over how adorable that sleepy voice is and how much Killer missed hearing it.

A dream?

Killer chuckles as he nuzzles him “A dream?”

Ccino hums again as he relaxes in his hold “Yeah… that is the only time you are here… when you are back…” his eyes are closed and he looks so relaxed “When you love me…”

Killer freezes as he pulls him closer “I do love you. I love you so much.”

Ccino however doesn’t seem to wake up more. Instead he just pushes himself fully against him as he smiles contently.

Fully believing this is nothing but a dream… and Killer can’t even blame him… Killer hardly ever made it obvious how much he loves him after all. It wasn’t even clear to Killer for a long time…

Killer is a selfish person. He has known that for a long time now. But as he holds Ccino, someone so beautiful both inside and outside. Someone so caring and too good for this world. Someone Killer does not deserve to have look at him. Killer realises it once again.

Ccino rarely asked for things. And then one time he actually asked for something? It had been to be free with Killer. And when Killer didn’t want to give that to him, when Killer denied it even after offering it? Because he had been scared of his own reaction, his own impulsive decision to offer the idea of running away to Ccino. Killer had later on be relieved that Ccino hadn’t agreed. As it has been an impulsive action and offer. Killer didn’t even have an idea on how to help Ccino escape… Only for Ccino to later say he did want to do it. Risk it all. Die after only a month or two? It they were lucky? Hearing that caused panic in tow different ways; one, it brought back to shock and fear of how his own feelings and emotions had changed; but two, the fear of waking up one day knowing that Ccino was gone.

He denied Ccino’s one wish to escape. He denied Ccino his own choice to escape and be free. To do with his life what he wanted. Killer still can’t believe he did that… That Ccino didn’t hate him for it afterwards…

Then, as if that wasn’t the worst, the second thing Ccino ever asked for anything. It was simply for Killer to stay with him as he had been scared. Killer had choosing his own freedom over Ccino’s needs. Ccino had understood. Never blamed him. But Killer is scum.

Two things. That is all Ccino ever asked of him. Just two things. And he did neither.

Killer pulls Ccino close. Ccino isn’t even fully awake. Fully believing that Killer is just a dream his tired and desperate mind called up. Killer still whispers promises to him. That Killer will stay this time. That he isn’t going anywhere. He will actually be there when Ccino wakes up.

Killer does not deserve any of the love Ccino offers him. But at least he can start trying to be worthy of it.

It is even worse to see that glass rose right there. On the nightstand. Nearby and still looking pristine. Ccino kept it. After everything… with all the trauma and fear and hurt he was forced through again, by Killer as well, he still kept it.

Killer softly kisses the top of the skull before frowning. Wait… does Ccino even still want him to do this? Is he allowed? He doesn’t… he shouldn’t do this until he gets the okay. It is unfair to just take. But that is what Killer does isn’t it? Just take and take and take…

Not this time.

Killer had already made too many mistakes when it came to them and their situationship. Killer wants to kiss his face all over but stops himself as he mutters instead “It is okay… I am not leaving you this time.” He had spent quite a while thinking. Realising his mistakes and how he had just…

It hadn’t started with feelings. Don’t get him wrong, he had been attracted to Ccino from the start and how could you not?! The problem was. It had started as a game. Try to break into the palace of the god-king. The person who had been worshipped by the people where he grew up. The people who told him he was nothing. It was to prove he was better, he could sneak right into the heart of her castle and be fine.

So breaking and entering had been a game between jobs with Ink. It was to feel good about his skills. The fact he managed to find Ccino? Had just been nice. It has been fun to hang out with him and laugh.

It had been another win for him. Being this close to one of Nim’s dear special harem mates. And Ccino was great! Ccino was nice and sweet and always so interested in the stories he told him.

He had seen it as him winning when Ccino didn’t reject him. When they had spent the night together…

It wasn’t until… Until Killer learned that Ccino very much did not like Nim at all. That he was forced to be with her and how much it bothered him.

And he just treated their sex as something fun on the side. He had treated their whole thing as something casual that meant nothing!

He is an asshole.

Killer nuzzles the skull as he mutters “I swear I will be better now. I promise you… I promise I love you. I really do… It just took me a while.” Because he is an idiot. Because he was blind and scared for what he felt. That he couldn’t see how much he loved him.

Killer knew Ccino loved him. Pretty quickly after spending more time together with him to offer some support. To have Ccino lean against him and be honest about how he was feeling and how tough it was. It made him feel special. That show of trust showed Killer exactly how Ccino felt about him. Killer at least had cared enough to not break his heart while he was being vulnerable. At least Killer managed to offer support even if, at the time, he had thought he didn’t love Ccino.

Shows again how much of an idiot Killer had been. Killer had loved the other for a long time. It just wasn’t until he was send away, a very reasonable request after Killer once again denied him his freedom, that it started to hurt.

Killer had felt like he was going insane. Ccino was all he could think about. Other options and ideas kept popping into his mind to save him. Or things he should have said or offered instead. Hell! Even Ink noticed!

So here he is now. Back right in the lion’s nest so to speak. For the first time in months feeling completely happy and content as he holds the other. As if things are finally making sense again.

He lays his head on top of Ccino’s. Feelings of being content spreading through his soul and body as he relaxed. It feels good to be by his side again. Killer whispers again “I promise you I won’t fail you again. This time I will be by your side and help you.” He already wasted so much time with being a coward. With being an asshole. Not anymore. Not now.

He gets to enjoy this peace for a little while. Just listening as he holds his… well not partner or boyfriend. Killer doesn’t know everything about relationships but he knows enough to figure out that Killer rejecting Ccino’s two wishes to remain together and Ccino sending him away probably equals that they euh… Can you break up from a relationship that isn’t officially a relationship?

It doesn’t matter. Even if Ccino doesn’t even want to look at him anymore. That is okay. Killer is going to do things right this time. To support him and be there for him. For as long as Ccino lets him and when he is gone…

Well… That will be time for Killer to have to deal with what he did. Remember all their times together and regret not having done things right sooner. Regret all the time he wasted.

But that is for later. He now has to focus on the other. For once not put someone else’s emotions, wants and needs first.

Footsteps…

Slowly coming closer.

Killer opens one of his sockets as he glances at the door. It won’t take long before whoever is coming closer will be here. Killer smiles softly at Ccino and whispers to him as he puts their skulls together “Don’t worry okay? I am going to do things right. I am not leaving you.” Let Nim come. Killer has a surprise for her. A tri-dagger. It took Killer a while to get one but these are supposed to leave very lethal wounds.

He plans to not just make one either.

The door opens and Killer remains still. His dark sockets making him look to part of being out cold. Let them come close and strike- that isn’t Nim.

Instead there stands a guard. Who stares at him before they speak furiously “What the fuck are you doing?!”

A few things happen at once. Killer is up on the headboard instantly, perched easily as he takes out his special knife. Damn, he had hoped for no witnesses as that always messes things up.

The guard has their own weapon drawn and out. Aimed right at the bed, and Killer specifically. But Killer doesn’t care about that. How fucking dare that asshole aim that thing anywhere near Ccino?!

Ccino looks around confused and he looks actually awake now. He glances around before Killer sees him focus on him “Killer?”

The guard sputters “That is Killer?!” then the guard quickly closes the door before glaring at Killer “If it isn’t the useless ex.”

Ccino flinches and Killer glares but he stashes the knife. Ccino isn’t even looking at him anymore thanks to that asshole.

Killer huffs “And you are the asshole who wakes up an obviously tired pregnant guy. Way to be considered.”

Ccino isn’t looking at either for them as he toys with the blanket. The guard nears them and Killer is glaring.

Worse is when the guard helps Ccino fully up right and makes sure the blanket is still around him. Killer hates this guard. He hates them so much.

The guard huffs as they stare at him after they are done moving Ccino around “What are you even doing here? I thought you ran with your tail between your legs when you were asked for the tiniest bit of commitment.”

Ccino glares at the guard “Rogers.” he hisses.

Killer is trying to slow his breathing. Ccino… Ccino wouldn’t have said that. At least never with those words. Their own conclusion maybe? Killer sees Ccino glance at him before looking away immediately.

Rogers looks unapologetic “What? It is the truth.” He glares back at Killer.

Killer glares right back “It is none of your concern.” He carefully sits back down on the bed. He wants to pull Ccino into another embrace. He used to do that all the time but is he allowed to do that still? He was never this conscious about his moves before right? Why does it feel like he isn’t allowed to do any of it anymore?

Right… because he left…

The guard, Rogers apparently, glares at him “None of that. Away from Ccino and the bed.” He nods towards the side “I think we all here know you can not be trusted.”

Ccino shoots Rogers a look as Killer glares at the guard. This fucking asshole.

Ccino mutters “It is fine… If he wants to sit there it is fine…” Killer can’t help but puffs up his chest a little at that. Take that asshole! Killer is allowed!

Rogers frowns at Ccino “Is that something you want? Or is it something you are saying because he wants it?”

Killer feels his soul freeze at that as he glances at Ccino. It is because Ccino wants it right?

Ccino doesn’t look up as he just messes with his blankets.

Right?

Killer goes to reach towards Ccino but Ccino tenses.

No… please no…

Killer isn’t sure what to do. He doesn’t know what to say to make this right. Please. Please he is so sorry.

A hand grabs his shoulder and Killer yelps as he is pulled off the bed. Killer glares at Rogers as Ccino stares at him “Rogers?”

Rogers grins at Ccino “I am just going to talk with him. It is okay. This is stressing you and your twins out.”

Ccino frowns but doesn’t go against it. Rogers mentions that some Robin will come bring him food later and that Ccino still has some time to relax. Then Rogers drags him outside of the room.

They are left standing in a brightly lit hall. Rogers sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes. He mutters about things getting even more complicated.

Killer glares “What the fuck do you want?”

Rogers stops and stares at him “Seriously? You think that is what this is about? And not about the fact that you are toying with one of my friend’s feelings just so you can get your adrenaline kick in?”

Killer glances to the side and hisses through his teeth “It isn’t like that.” Not now. Maybe before but not anymore. This isn’t about… Well it is sort of still about what he feels and wants but it isn’t about having fun or something stupid! It is about Killer wanting to do what is right. To actually be there for someone who only ever loved him.

Rogers rubs his temper as he clearly thinks “Listen. If I had it may way? I would either give you to the other guards to deal with after mentioning you were trying to break into Ccino’s room. Kick you out of a window, or finish you myself. But I can’t.”

Killer snorts as he crosses his arms “You know you would lose I assume?” He feels smug.

Rogers looks at him as if he is an idiot “Because Ccino for some stupid reason still loves you and quite honestly I don’t want to hurt him by hurting you.”

Killer’s smile falls from his face.

Rogers sighs again as he glares down the hall. Clearly thinking for a moment before looking at him “Why are you here?”

Killer crosses his arms as he looks to the side. Feeling too exposed as he keeps glancing around the hall “It is none of your business.”

Rogers looks unimpressed “If it is about Ccino that automatically makes it my business.”

Killer glares back at Rogers “And why do you think that?! He isn’t yours!” He was barely Killer’s. And how badly Killer had wanted that to have been the case. He can accept that he doesn’t deserve Ccino or his love or to call him his. But he is not going to accept some random guy saying Ccino is his! Killer refuses to accept that! If Ccino is going to be anyone’s Ccino is going to be… well… Ccino’s!

Rogers glares right back “Because I am his friend. And unlike you Robina dn I actually give  ashit about how he feels and try to help him.”

Killer glares “You don’t fucking know how I feel. Stop acting as if you do.”

“You left him once before. And I quite honestly don’t know if he can pull himself together if you do it again.”

Killer stops when he hears that. Rogers doesn’t even look smug about making him quiet. Rogers just looks tired. Rogers stares at him “At this point there are only two options as any other option would hurt him. Either you go now. Say you just wanted a chance to clear stuff up and say goodbye. You actually end this whole thing fully and reasonable. Or, if you decide to stay. You stay. You stay with him and help him until the end.” Rogers sighs as he rubs his face “God knows he deserves to have something he wants for once.”

Killer feels himself grow angry again “I wasn’t going to leave. I came back for a fucking reason you asshole. And it has nothing to do with what you said. I wanted to be with him.”

Rogers raises an eyebrow as he looks so unimpressed “Really? And what about your past track record would have been a clue for that option?”

Killer glares as he huffs “I am going to go back to Ccino now as this is a waste of precious time.” So precious. He already wasted so much. He can’t waste even more on some wannebe guard. He walks towards the door and Rogers stops him again.

Rogers speaks softly “He has gone through a lot. Just… Don’t add more stress to him.” He lets go and goes to stand by the wall across from the door. Seemingly to do his guard duty.

Killer enters the room again and sees Ccino look up and the anxious face transforms into surprise “Killer? You are… still here?” The surprise. The disbelieve.

Killer rushes to his side and slowly climbs back on the bed and very slowly reaches over. Ccino is still as Killer wraps his arms around him. Holding him close before frowning. He feels cold… Killer grabs the blanket and tugs it closer around Ccino “Fuck you are freezing… do you want to take a bath? Warm up a bit?” or are there clothes around? Maybe a nice warm sweater would be nice. He still feels so thin. Aren’t these guys feeding him still? Killer should have grabbed food along the way. Something for Ccino to enjoy, and maybe as a peace offering.

Ccino just stares at him “Why are you here?”

Killer gives an uncertain smile, he kicks down the instinct to look away, to not have to see Ccino look at him. Instead he answers “Honestly… I missed you.”

Ccino gets a small smile before it falls, it is gone before it was even fully there. He looks down and mutters “I don’t… I didn’t… I thought…” He frowns and stops.

Killer leans against him as he tries to share his own body heat with him. Killer wishes he hadn’t been a skeleton monster. Skeleton monsters have terrible heat preservation in their bodies. Killer just hums as he rubs his arms to try and get some heat into him. Even if Killer doesn’t interrupt it seems the Ccino still ends up not saying a lot. Instead he just leans into the hold.

They sit silently for a moment before Killer snorts “Your friend? Rogers? He hates me.” He makes sure to grin and look amused.

Ccino winces “He doesn’t hate you.” he pauses before sighing “He just… doesn’t approve I think?”

Killer snorts as he hugs him “Nah. He approves anything that makes you happy. He just hates my guts.” Which he deserves. “Which is fine btw. I am not scared of a guy glaring. Just…” He shoots Ccino a look “He never like.. tried anything right?” Because if he did they would have issues.

Ccino frowns before looking highly amused “Rogers? Try anything? Nah. I am pretty sure he isn’t into that whole thing. He cares about Robin and me but we are friends. I think Rogers has zero interest in either relationships or sex. I think he is going to end up marrying his job if he has any choice…” Ccino looks thoughtful “Same for Robin honestly.”

It calms Killer as he snorts “You know what? Fair enough.” He leans his skull against Ccino and waits for a moment “Is this okay? I know… I know I was a jerk… and asshole… I shouldn’t have left. I am sorry I abandoned you and… It is totally okay if you don’t want me to hug you anymore.” It is okay. Just… open communication. He can say if he is uncomfortable and Killer will respect the boundaries he sets. Easy!

Ccino glances at him. He looks confused “I… don’t think you were being a jerk? And this is fine. Really. It is nice… It is nice to have someone near.” He has a small smile on his face.

Killer however is stuck on the first thing he mentioned. “How can you…” Not hate me. Not be disgusted with me “Say I was not rude? I abandoned you.”

Ccino frowns at him. Still some confusion on his face “But… you didn’t?” He must see something on Killer’s face as his confusion becomes a gentle smile. He raises a hand and rubs Killer’s cheek and Killer leans into the hand “Hey… Just because we had different expectations doesn’t mean you abandoned me… You were not responsible for my wellbeing Killer. I never saw you as responsible for that. It would have been unfair to place such expectations on you.” He smiles at him.

Killer frowns “But… you wanted me to stay. And I just left.” The hurt on his face. The sad expression is burned into Killer’s memory.

Ccino just keeps smiling sadly “It is true… I wanted you to stay… But that is just it Killer. It is what I wanted. And you didn’t want it. It would have been unfair of me to expect something of you that you didn’t want. To expect you to be miserable for my comfort.” Ccino smiles at him “I never meant for you to feel responsible for me Killer. If… if you want to leave. That is okay.” he smiles.

Killer can see it. Ccino means it. There is not a smidge of doubt on his face.

Killer holds him close. Feels the other against him as he mutters “I want to stay. With you specifically. It can be anywhere as long as I am with you. I had needed time, I think, to see that. To understand that.”

Ccino hums as he leans into his hold. His own arms still shielding his sternum. Where his soul lies, where his soullings lie. “I get it. A lot happened in a very short time. It was overwhelming you.” and he gives another smile.

What did Killer do to get him to love him? Honestly what was it? Killer doesn’t know. He tries it again “I just… it feels…” he takes a deep breath “It felt like such an asshole thing. It wasn’t a big deal… I could have stayed to give you comfort and support… and I just ran away. Scared for my own comfort.”

Ccino just keeps looking at him gently “I will just be repeating myself but… it is true. I know before I even asked it that it would be unfair to ask of you to stay. To ask you to give up something you loved.” Ccino looks amused “I am not an idiot Killer. I know you loved traveling. And I am aware of that what you do isn’t exactly legal.” Killer feels sheepish and it must show as Ccino just looks more amused “I knew it means the world to you.” he lays his hand on Killer’s hand “It is also part of why I asked you to not return, when you didn’t want to stay. I knew it would be more dangerous and just unsafe for you to remain. I knew security would be higher with the heirs on their way. I will admit it was partly to help me…” Ccino laughs as he rubs his cheek. His smile turning sadder as he speaks “It isn’t your fault that I got more emotionally invested into something that was just supposed to be fun.” He looks sad by the admission.

Killer hugs him closer to him. feel the curve of the other’s spine against his front “I love you.”

Ccino sighs “You don’t need to lie Killer. I know that Rogers… he probably told you to be nice because… well…” he chuckles “The twins will eventually cause my soul to burst.” He leans more against him “But I don’t want you to lie. I don’t want you to say or do stuff you don’t feel comfortable and happy with. Stuff you don’t want.” He smiles up at Killer “I am tougher than I look. I won’t break that easily.”

Killer puts his skull against Ccino’s “Ccino.” It feels so good to be close to him again “I came back because I wanted to be near you. Because I missed you and wanted a chance to make up for abandoning you.” He stares at him “I really do love you.”

He can see that Ccino hears him.

He can also see that Ccino doesn’t believe him.

Ccino sighs but leans into his arms as he just rests.

Killer frowns but holds him. It is to be expected. Killer hasn’t exactly acted like someone in love should. Killer will need to show he does love him. That he truly cares. That he isn’t just some past time or amusement.

They sit in silence and Killer hums “We will need to think of something about keeping me out of sight of Nim.” Maybe he can still join the guard? Or steal armour to look the part? That way he can blend in.

Ccino blinks and looks confused at Killer “Rogers didn’t tell you?”

Killer tilts his skull “Tell me what? And aside from telling me I was an asshole in many ways he didn’t say much.” No need to stress Ccino out about what the fact that Rogers threatened to end Killer. Not in that many words of course but it was implied!

Ccino rubs his cheek as he looks to the side. He looks… Awkward? “We don’t really need to worry about her anymore…”

Killer feels hope blossom in his soul “Did she finally lose her weird obsession with you? That is amazing news!” Ccino gets to relax and focus on himself! Maybe they can sneak in more food for him.

Ccino laughs as he looks downright sheepish “She… euh… Is dead.”

Killer blinks. He is happy of course. Fuck yeah that fucking freak and pedophile of a monster is finally gone! But… why does Ccino not look happy? And…wait…

Killer frowns “I thought the whole deal was that she could only like die by passing the magic stuff along? And well…” he looks pointedly at the sternum Ccino is still covering “I don’t think they can get magic when they are still soullings right?”

Ccino rubs his cheek “I mean… She didn’t… she was murdered?” He grins sheepish “I… may have indirectly caused her dead?” and he waits.

Killer knows he is staring.

By the stars Killer loves this monster.

--

Ccino told him what he knew after that.

Killer listened to the whole thing and stares in wonder up at the plants hanging above the bed now.

Now that he thinks about it. The last time he was in this room it was much more stone and marble. Everything felt cold and was a more greyish colour. Now the floors were a warm brown and clear wooden planks. The walls are a lighter brown and the branch like texture is clearer than ever and Killer thinks there are even some new tiny twigs growing. The bed is beautiful now as the posts are covered in light green vines and the top of the bed has an almost net of leaves with bright coloured flowers.

Ccino glances at him and rubs his hands “I know it must sound insane.” He looks sad.

Killer shakes his skull “No! I mean. It sounds strange but this country has been ruled by a family that did a shifty magic ritual to pass along a god magic type of deal that enables them to life anywhere between 500 and a 1000 years. To hear that this magic rebelled? It is not the strangest thing.” And more importantly “And I think… I may have kinda met it?”

Ccino stares at him in shock “What?!”

Killer holds up his hands “I didn’t know?! I just… The first time I snuck in? It was coincidence. I took a wrong turn.” He still remembers seeing Ccino. All dressed up and pretty. Light make up to highlight some of his features and clothes so bare that Killer hadn’t known where to look and afraid to move. Then Ccino had been sassy and humorous as he send him on his way? Killer is pretty sure he fell a little bit right then and there, and no he isn’t talking about his small trip out of the window, how he didn’t realise until later is beyond him.

The thing is. After that?

“It was the visits after. When I would try to sneak in to get to you.” it had been to prove that he was better, smarter? Than Nim. Getting to hang out with Ccino was the greatest bonus to that ever. “The thing is. I never knew beforehand where you were? I would be sneaking around and notice like… plants? Easy to climb vines. Small flowers that had bright colour to grab my attention?” It had been guiding him. Right to Ccino.

He grins at Ccino “It must have been trying to help us. A little?”

Ccino looks shocked as he looks down. His hand raised near his sternum. Killer thinks it is cute to see. The way that he seems to automatically seems to guard his soullings. Killer hums as he holds the other close.

Ccino is frowning “Maybe… I still don’t… understand why it made them sick… Why it made Nightmare and Dream sick.” He leans into his embrace.

Killer hums and shrugs “I don’t know… but maybe It had reasons that we just didn’t know. Seeing as It moved to defend you? Protected you and referred to the twins as yours? I think It may have had plans that we don’t understand.” Killer shrugs “Maybe It was trying to remove any of Nim’s magic and influence?” it is a guess.

Ccino gains a small smile “Maybe… it is strange… I just keep wondering if I did something to anger It. That I did something to make It mad and make It hurt the twins. That it was my fault in some way that they died.”

Killer holds him close “Hey.” Ccino flinches and Killer has none of it “No please Ccino look at me.” Ccino glances up. There is just guilt and grieve on his face. “Ccino. You did nothing but love those two. You did nothing but do your best to love them and make sure they were okay. You were not the one who failed them. You did what you could. It must have seen that too, It must have been aware of that.”

Ccino just looks sadder “Then why did I have to lose them? It hurts so much. I still miss them so much.” He sobs and laughs softly “I almost… I almost want to believe her. That she kept their souls and planted them in mine specifically. It feels like… It feels like I am fixing my past mistakes. That I can at least give them a chance at life as I failed and.” He sobs.

Killer holds him close. Just lets him cry. Killer doesn’t understand what Ccino is saying and implying but with how Nim is? How insane she was? Killer wouldn’t be surprised if she told him some wild story to make Ccino more complacent and willing. Killer will ask him later. For now? For now he will just hold him.

In the end Ccino just lays against him. Hiding his face in Killer’s shoulder. Breathing calming slowly as he seems to calm down. Killer just rubs his back. Some tiny part happy that Ccino trusts him enough to use him as support, and as shield for his soullings. It feels good. To be there for him. To actually help in some tiny way.

Ccino pulls away and chuckles as he wipes his face “Sorry for that… I know crying isn’t really… shouldn’t happen…”

Killer frowns “Why not?” he snorts as he motions towards the ever present tar like tears on his face “I literally do it all the time.”

Ccino looks slightly panicked “Oh no I didn’t! I didn’t mean for you! It is just… a thing.” He rubs his neck “Everyone, well not everyone but you get it, always told me to not cry. Something about it leaving marks and like stuff near the sockets? That it would make me less pretty and well Nim deserved the best.”

Killer groans “Fucking assholes all of them. Crying is good for you! It helps like soul and emotion stuff! If you keep it all bottled up it just hurts.” he swears if he hears anyone make a comment like that he is stabbing them.

Ccino looks a bit more unsure “Sorry… I just…”

Killer shakes his skull “Not against you Ccino.” He holds his hand “You did nothing wrong. I swear.” Ccino looks a tiny bit calmer.

Then the door opens.

A human woman walks in. She does not look impressed “No sex with the pregnant and weakened monster.” She walks over.

Ccino sputters and looks embarrassed “Robin! We weren’t!” he shoots Killer a look before just blushing more.

Robin hums as she walks over, she is carrying trays of food, “Don’t worry. Rogers gave me the run down.” She shoots Killer a look “Pleasure to meet the guy that Ccino used to sneak out of parties for. I hope you like fruit and dough as stuff like that is what is on the menu.”

Killer frowns “Not that I mind… but I thought meat as an export.”

Both Ccino and Robin look pained. Ccino is the one that answers “No… euh… So… Ever since Nim was gone and I have been like…” he searches for the words “Pretty much in an even worse lock down as I got the next generation of god-kings in me? The priest has spoken with me a lot. And well, I pretty much said I only really trust Rogers and Robin?”

Robin nods “Priest put us two in charge of making sure that Ccino is okay.” she looks deeply annoyed “Well the priest said specifically the heirs. But you get the jest.”

Killer frowns as he looks from one to the other “What was that to do with the meat situation?”

Robin sighs “Well, I got a list from the medics and healers about what is good for pregnant monsters and stuff.” She looks annoyed “As if I don’t know. Either way. I saw that meat was one of the things on the list so I went to the storage and decided to investigate what was around.” She shrugs at his questioning look “I was reading into which meat was best and healthiest for him. I wanted to see what was available and if I had to ration anything out…”

“That is how I found out our meat was imported from Whispering.”

Killer stares before he stares horrified “Holy shit… human meat?!”

Robin nods “Indeed!! Which… yeah. No.” Ccino nods in agreement as he looks slightly sick. “We have been going with vegetarian meals for Ccino now but that means a lot of different ingredients and stuff.”

Killer nods because holy shit. That is a lot. He never actually taste human meat, not even when he and Ink had a mission in Whispering.

Robin grins “Either way!” she puts down the bowls with oatmeal with all kinds of fruits. She sets down a plate with tiny rolls of cake like bread with a spread in the middle. She points at the oatmeal “Oatmeal with banana, strawberry and blueberries.” She points to the cakelike roll “Vanila sweet break roll.” She looks begging at Ccino “Just eat what you can. Put everything else aside for later okay?” she smiles as she gets up. Ccino says his thanks before she leaves them to eat.

Killer frowns “Does she always leave after giving food?”

Ccino looks embarrassed “No. Usually she eats with me… but well… you are here and… I guess she is giving us time to catch up.” He is blushing and looking away and to the side.

Killer feels his soul wiggle and flutter as Ccino looks so shy. To distract both of them he grabs a bowl and holds it up to Ccino as peace offering.

Ccino luckily takes it and starts to eat. He makes sure to eat the fruit first and Killer joins him. Makes sure the other doesn’t feel weird about eating alone and he tries to match Ccino. He eats a lot slower than Killer but he doesn’t mind.

Ccino actually starts to look a bit better as he seems to sigh happily with each bite. Clearly enjoying the food.

He pauses when the bowl isn’t completely empty as he shudders.

It is terrifying. To see the way that his cheeks seem to grow a little thinner. To see him start to shake as the heat in his body seems to leave him. Killer is quick to wrap the blanket back around him and puts his own jacket around him as well.

Killer looks anxiously at him. Ccino however is calm as he smiles. He has dark exhausted marks under his sockets now “The two little soullings need to eat… It isn’t exactly as if we are made to support two souls… It is hard to… have the nutrients and energy for both of them.” he waves around “It is why I stay here… I usually sleep a lot. Only waking to take a bath and to eat four times a day.” He laughs as he rubs his cheek.

Killer frowns “It was never this bad… before…” he thinks at least. He never saw the full thing.

Ccino shrugs “I used to get magic injections. It felt terrible and I hated them but. Well. It was much easier to keep up with the demand for magic that way even if I still didn’t eat. I prefer food though, even if I am almost always tired and don’t have any mana or magic or energy left for anything but the soullings.” He leans against him as he shudders.

Killer nods as he files that away to keep an eye on “Need to aly down and rest?”

Ccino shakes his skull as “No. I just. Need a moment to let them absorb magic. Then I should be able to eat a bit more… and well… I enjoy talking to you.” he smiles at him.

Killer chuckles as he nuzzles the skull by his own “I am not going anywhere Ccino. I swear.”

Ccino laughs as he nods and relaxes.

Killer hums as he thinks for a while before speaking “You know. I just thought of something?”

Ccino hums questioning.

Killer grins a little bit to himself “All I am saying is… Who says that Nim is the other parent you know?”

Ccino blinks at him confused “It are twins Killer.”

Killer nods “I know I know but. Hear me out. I am just saying. Everyone thought Nim is the other parent because everyone thought she was the only one you were intime with.” Which she truly had no right to “Maybe… Well… we were intime. And we are both skeletons and much more compatible. For all we know… Nim’s magic may have caused you to be able to carry and get twins… but maybe the twins weren’t made by her.”

Ccino frowns as he stares ahead.

Killer rubs his neck “I just… I thought… Maybe… if it aren’t your original twins… it is easier to think about them as twins that Nim had no influence over. That they were made from a night of” Love “consent and mutual fun.” He smiles.

Ccino stares at him and Killer suddenly gets another thought. What if it seems like Killer is trying to get a claim!?

“Obviously!! You are the parent! The real parent and like lawful parent! I mean!” Killer laughs nervously “We aren’t even married so they would  just be seen as your anyway and I would just be the babydaddy haha” even as he laughs his own sentence brings an image to mind he hadn’t thought about before. Ccino in wedding attire, would it be a dress? A suit? Maybe a curious combination?

Or maybe it would be one of the many other wedding rituals Killer knows of. Here you give the one you wish to marry a special wedding mask, either masterfully crafted or made by your own hands. Special markings to show the importance.

Other countries give rings and hold a party. To share a bond and celebrate it with those closest to the wedding pair.

Some other countries spend a few days tied to one another. To show they are connected and learn to truly work together. They end up wearing bracelets to signal this shared experience.

Ccino laughs softly, unaware of the absolute mess that Killer is now, he leans against Killer “It… is a nice thought… that Nim didn’t…” he sighs as he leans against Killer “But somewhere I also hope it really are Dream and Nightmare…”

Killer nuzzles him as sighs “That is okay. We will just have both options as the truth. If it truly are their souls in there it is them. If it turns out it aren’t them they are made of us instead.” He grins at Ccino “I just know they are going to be the most loved little babybones ever.”

Ccino stares in shock “Killer… I… If I am lucky I will get to meet them but that is it…”

It hurts to think. Killer focusses on the smile “You love them now… I think that counts.”

Ccino blinks before giving him a bright smile as he leans against him.

--

The whole day had been stressful.

The last month? Killer thinks it went by too fast. There isn’t enough time in the day to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Ccino. There isn’t enough time at night to hold the other close in a cuddle. There just. Wasn’t enough time.

And then his soul cracked. Ccino had been shaking silently and crying in pain. Not giving a kick even as the soullings broke his soul from the inside out. Too large.

It had been a miracle already. That it took so long before it happened. That Ccino’s soul had managed.

Something about the soullings having been very calm. Not pushing or pulsing within Ccino’s soul. Even if it meant that there was too little space and the two were stretching his soul the no movement kept things stable.

Doesn’t make this any better. Doesn’t make it better that he is this hurt now.

Killer had just held him. Held him close as the soulling separated completely.

And then the soullings just… left his body. Two bright little stars. Shining in the dark and quiet room.

Their bodies having been shaped with twin flashes or bright yellow and purple magic.

Leaving two tiny babybones behind.

Killer holds Ccino close as he shakes and shivers in his hold. Killer however is still in slight aw at the two babybones that Robin is slowly cleaning. He hadn’t thought… It was insane… The light the magic… shit…

Killer grins at Ccino ready to congratulate him when he realises that Ccino stopped shaking… stopped… breathing.

Killer feels everything go still “Ccino?” no response. Killer holds him closer and rubs his arm “Ccino… Ccino come on… please respond…” He… he knows what everyone said… that a monster soul can’t handle having two soullings at the same time… but it is Ccino! And he said these where his twins!

He lays completely limp against him. No movement at all.

Killer holds him close “Come on Ccino this isn’t funny…” please… please don’t do this… please don’t…

Killer glances down and he stops breathing. Small silvery dust slowly falling off of Ccino’s hand… his face is blank and peaceful.

Killer shakes “No… no no no no… Ccino please!” don’t… don’t leave him. He holds him close as he searches for any kind of sign of life. Anything at all.

There is none.

Killer shakes his skull as he mutters “come on… You need to still meet them. You wanted to see them so badly. Come on you need to be awake for that. You need to be aware for that.” Please. Please just one more moment. Just one more minute.

A loud inhale and Killer unwillingly looks away from Ccino only to stare. Large vines are slowly creeping towards where Robin and Rogers are holding the two tiny twins. From the ceiling they are falling.

No… No…

Killer looks around and spots some slowly creeping close to Ccino. The vines swipe the dust up and seem to absorb it?!

Killer holds Ccino closer and growls at whatever is there “No! No you don’t just get to… No!”

A moment of silence before Killer feels it. Emotions not his own. Silent insistence. A quiet demand. Almost like a parent. Telling you to put something down or give something back.

Killer shakes his skull again “He isn’t yours! You don’t just get to claim him.” it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair it isn’t fair!

The silent presence grows annoyed. Before a slight anger. Killer shudders under it as he holds Ccino. He isn’t letting him go. He isn’t giving this thing Ccino. Killer feels himself growl “No. You don’t get to act as if you have any right to him! You let him go through hell. You allowed that. You don’t get to act as if you have the best in mind for him now.”

Killer would hate to lose Ccino. He would hate more for Ccino to once again be claimed by something god like. To once again be trapped. He doesn’t deserve that.

Killer will grief for the rest of his life. But he is not letting Ccino go from one cage to the next. He isn’t going to let whatever it is take him and his twins.

Silence. Nudges at his mind and Killer shakes as flashes before his mind. Ccino for a moment. Smiling and happy. Another of him sad and alone. Then pictures of older people. Or people going from pretty to ugly. A silent demand.

Killer frowns as he looks around confused “What are you implying? That Ccino will grow older?! That is the whole fucking point! Him living! Him getting to actually be with his twins?! After everything?” He told them before. He isn’t leaving. He is going to stay with Ccino until Ccino wants him gone. And even then Killer will make sure to check in, from a distance of course. He won’t interfere in his life but he will make sure he is okay.

Silence again.

Then he sees the vines retreat from where Robin is holding both the twins close. Protecting them. Killer looks down and stares at lines of yellowish green magic slowly near Ccino.

He stares at the dusted hand is put back together dust particle by dust particle. Killer can see the shining outline of Ccino’s soul. The one that is broken into shards slowly melt back into one whole soul.

Ccino shudders and gasps as he looks around confused.

Killer holds his face “Ccino? Ccino please tell me it is you…?”

Ccino looks confused “Kill…Kills?” he shakes and looks around panicked “Where… where are…” he looks so scared.

Robin is quicker as she sits next to him and whispers “Look. They are both here.” She hands both of them to Ccino.

Ccino stares and laughs “It… it is them… it is really them… Nighty… Little Dream… They are both…” he sobs as he leans against Killer.

Killer just holds them. His soul still shaking as he glances around. Seeing that more flowers had grown.

Killer laughs as he hugs Ccino close. He feels his own normal tears mix with the tar normally leaking. He is so happy… He… he did at least something… He truly actually helped.

Maybe It had always been planning this. Maybe It was testing them. Maybe Killer managed to change It’s mind. Or maybe It just felt like doing this in the moment.

It doesn’t matter. Ccino is alive. Ccino is okay. That is all that matters.

Ccino looks happily at him as he raises the twins, he nudges one with purple eyes with a very tiny yellow center “This is Nightmare.” He raises the other, yellow eyes with a tiny purple center but with yellow freckles “This is Dream.”

Killer grins and gentle shakes both the twins hands “Well hello there. I hope I am making a good first impression.” Ccino giggles and leans at him.

It is okay.

--

Rogers and Killer lean against the wall together as Robin and Ccino are washing the twins. The introduction of the twins had gone well even if everyone had been shocked to see Ccino alive.

It is why Killer is confused that Rogers pulled him aside.

Rogers glances around the halls “The original plan had been to say Ccino and the twins all died.”

Killer blinks and looks over.

Rogers doesn’t look at him “Robin and I knew that Ccino wouldn’t survive. The two of us made a plan. I would guard as today and Robin would be with Ccino to help. Then, after Ccino got to hold his twins and after he became dust… well… we would just lie. We would just say that Ccino and the twins all died at the same time. That the twins would have been to weak to exit his soul. As I reported what I saw Robin would be getting the twins out with the growing confusion. I would meet up with her and the twins later.”

Killer is in shock.

Rogers shrugs “We figured… As soon as those people got their hands on the twins? There is no way they would have been allowed to just be kids. And that is all that Ccino wanted… we were planning on just taking them away from this all. To get them somewhere where they could just be kids.” He sighs.

Killer frowns “But… Ccino is still here. He will make sure they can be kids right?”

Rogers glances to him and Killer feels afraid. That is not a good look.

Rogers sighs “The priest figured that… With Nim gone… there isn’t a real way to get them the magic or something… and well. He is saying it as a sign that Ccino survived…” Rogers frowns as he looks to the side “Blood magic and sacrifice magic is the priest most skilled in.”

Killer feels his breathing speed up. He has seen these type of rituals and knows they are not limited to small animals.

Killer focusses on Rogers “What is the plan?”

Rogers rubs his head “That is the problem. There are too many guards. Too many people who can get something out of this and are sticking around. We had been planning to use the confusion to get out. There is no window now. There is no time.” He sighs.

Killer thinks before remembering someone he had heard of in passing in Whispering. “I may know someone. But I need to find him first.” He looks unsure “What do tell Ccino?”

Rogers nods “We can buy a bit more time as you look for this guy.” He glances at the door “I don’t… want to lie. But I don’t want to stress him out either. He is already anxious about taking care of the twins now.”

Killer frowns and nods “I will just tell him it is a job. I need to find Ink as well as he may know how to find this guy.”

Rogers sighs “I hope this works.”

“Me too.”

--

Robin pushes the basket into Killers hands before skipping over to Ccino. Ccino smiles at his best friend as Robin hugs him “I love you. Have a good trip. Make sure to rest and eat.”

Ccino snorts “We are just going to the meadow Robin.”

Robin hums “I know I know. I am just saying.” She looks him in the eye “Don’t worry about us. We got things handled. Enjoy.” She winks “We know where to find you if we need you.” she grins and bows to the priest and guards before walking away to do work.

Killer snorts “Is she always like this?”

Ccino nods “If she is in a good mood. She hadn’t been in such a good mood in a while though. I wonder why.” It isn’t a date as Robin just doesn’t do that. Maybe the cooks are making her favourite tonight?

Killer holds his hand as they walk towards where Rogers is waiting with the twins. He hands one of them to each other them. Killer coos as he nuzzles the tiny head “hello there Daydream. Being a little menace?” Dream babbles happily as he bites Killer’s fingers. Eyes large as he stares innocently at Killer as if he surely did not just bite Killer.

Killer nods “Ah yes. I don’t know where these random bites keep coming from. there is a mystery afoot.” Dream giggles.

Nightmare is still asleep. Little guy had a rough night with his teeth aching and is clearly tired.

The priest walks over “It was an amazing idea to go into the forest! To feel the power of the magic more closely to something connected to its source!”

Ccino nods. It hadn’t even been his idea. Rogers had offered that it would maybe be nice to have a day out. to have a picnic. Ccino had just spoken about how the magic was obviously related to something in nature and that maybe bringing himself and the twins to a spot with more nature would appease the magic more into interacting more with everyone. From there on it was easy to get people to agree.

Even if Ccino could do without the four guards following them. At least one of them was Rogers.

They get into the cart and Ccino switches twins with Killer. Killer leans back and lets Nightmare doze against him as Ccino bounces Dream as they look out of the window together. he can’t help but sneak looks at Killer.

Killer is so unbelievable good with the twins. And Ccino finds himself thinking more and more about what Killer offered as idea ages ago. How the twins could just be from them.

It is… almost easy to see them like that. Neither of them look at all like Nim. Nothing about them suggests they are Nim’s aside from them feeling warmer to the touch. But that is easy to blame on Ccino still recovering from the whole pregnancy and even getting them.

It is easy to act as if they are Killer’s.

They get to the edge of the forest and leave the carriage.

The walk through the forest is lovely. The weather had been turning colder lately but it is nice. New plants are growing and instead of the almost dried out plants everywhere it is a much softer green and everything smells amazing.

Ccino discovered that he loved the smell of rain. It had been a treat and he had sat with both his twins by the window just enjoying the sound and smell. It was so unlike anything he had experienced in a long time.

They get to the meadow and two guards make them wait as they enter it first. To search or something. Suddenly Killer is up in his business and Ccino snorts “Yes?”

Killer grins as he checks on Nightmare who is still asleep “That is good.” Then a hand covers both Dream’s eyes, who gives a surprised noise and moments later his own vision goes dark.

Ccino laughs “Killer I know the surprise already.”

The sound of choking and a moment later his view returns to him. There is dust next to Rogers on the ground as he cleans his sword.

Ccino’s mind pauses.

Killer looks sheepish “We agreed you had dealt with enough… seeing it would make it worse.”

Ccino blinks confused but then Killer tugs him past the last line of trees and… Two more dust piles on the ground. A short cloaked figure stands in the middle of the meadow. A glance shows skeletal hands.

Ccino glances at Killer.

Killer grins “This. Is Dust. He is going to help us get the fuck away from here.” He takes the bag from his shoulders as Rogers hands him another one as he goes over to this Dust person to talk apparently.

Ccino looks at Rogers “Rogers?!”

Rogers smiles “We didn’t want to stress you out.” He looks at him “You and the twins needs to leave this place. It took us a while to get the timing right but this is the quickest option we had.”

Ccino goes to ask but then he remembers Robin and her goodbye “You all knew?” he is shocked. Why hadn’t they told him?

Rogers nods “We did.” He gives him a quick hug “And don’t worry about us. Which is why we didn’t tell you to begin with. We knew you would worry about us and want us to go too. This is the best chance at success Ccino. Please just trust us that we knew what we are doing. Okay?” and he waits for a moment.

Ccino frowns as he looks at his best friend “I can’t just leave you two…”

Rogers gives him a hard look “You can and you will. You and Killer will go. Killer told us this guy can get you places and Killer’s friend can make you documents. You will go and be free. We will find you later. I promise.”

Ccino feels tears threaten to fall as he hugs his friend “You swear?”

“On my soul. Now go.” He nudges Ccino before he grabs his own blade and start to mess up his armour. He calls Killer over and gets Killer to slice him across the back. Rogers sees him look questioning and Rogers grins “Gotta make it believable. We got it. Go.” and he nudges Ccino over.

Killer takes his hand and leads him back to the third skeleton. Who had just been standing there silently the whole time. Ccino feels the need to tug both his twins closer but remains strong.

The shorted guy, Dust, looks over “Ccino. Correct?”

He says it with a bit of an accent but it is close enough. Ccino nods.

Dust nods “We need to walk. There is a cart.” He pauses and glances at the two babybones “They okay with that? We need silence?”

Ccino huffs as he tugs his twins closer and checks on Dream in Killer’s arms “Of course they are. They are both very well behaved.” Which is when Dream coos happily and tugs on the leather of the other.

Ccino is worried for a moment before seeing Dust snort “Brave little guy.” Then he just turns and waves them over to follow him.

The short walk is not short at all but closer to half an hour. Ccino is starting to feel drained and it isn’t until long and Killer is carrying both his twins for him. They get to a small path and sees a very small cart. It is one normally used for some cargo over short distances. Dust opens it up and puts their bags in it before going to the front to manage the horse pulling it. Killer climbs in first and makes sure both the twins are comfortable before helping Ccino up and in as well. He grabs a blanket from inside the cart and wraps it around him.

“Sleep. I will be here. I promise.”

Ccino nods as he leans against Killer. Feeling the cart shake slightly as it starts to move and be pulled.

They walk for a moment in silence as Killer mutters softly “He didn’t tell me exactly which path we were going to take but he has done this a lot before so I have no doubt that this will work.” He grins “Apparently he is very skilled in smuggling.”

Dust speaks from the outside “I smuggle everything well.”

Killer grins before shooting him a look “You know… You can give them any names you want. They are still young and we will be leaving this country soon. They will get new documents and from then on it will just be us…” Killer looks nervous “As long as you will have me of course.”

Ccino smiles as he leans against him “As if I would ever want you to leave.” But he gets thinking about the names. He does like the names Nightmare and Dream. But maybe something else as well?

Killer and him had been joking about what they would name the twins if they weren’t just two males…

He really liked the names Dawn and Dusk.

---

A cup of coffee is placed in front of him and Geno is pulled from his thinking. He looks up at the barista and grins “Thanks Ccino.” He glances at the coffee and feels himself blush.

The latte art is done masterfully but it is clearly of a person in a cloak.

Ccino hums “It was no trouble. Though I do feel like I should tell you that Dust won’t be here today. He is still working.” He looks amused as he says this.

Geno mumbles and quickly takes a sip of his coffee. But any haste disappears as the amazing taste fills his mouth.

No one is sure how, Geno least of all, but Ccino makes the best coffee and deserts. And Geno knows it is without magic! He checked!

Geno discovered this café almost three years ago now. It had still been newly opened and Ccino had still been setting things up. The menu back then had been simple and Ccino had been nervous about getting the right things up for sale.

Geno had been planning on just getting a coffee to show support. It was glaring obvious that Ccino had been a refuge. New and still nervous and just trying to settle.

Only to discover the best fucking coffee in the world. And Geno can know as he has been many places thanks to Reaper.

Geno made it a point to visit weekly. Which turned to more as more treats and options became available.

Geno shrugs as answer and Ccino looks amused but doesn’t say anything else. That is a nice thing about Ccino. He doesn’t push and he doesn’t sell out information. Normally people who own cafes quickly start talking about how the royal mage drinks coffee at their places. Somekind of publicity stunt or something. Ccino didn’t do that. He just let Geno and his brothers be. It was nice.

Geno sips his coffee as Ccino walks back to the counter. Mid step he pauses and reached under a table. A delighted squeek is heard and Ccino pulls back holding a tiny adorable babybones. One of the two twins, Dream is seems. Ccino nuzzles the little face before walking back to the counter. Now a tiny child carried in his arm and on his hip.

Geno had wondered about it, obviously. He wondered who Ccino had gotten the twins with. What the whole story was.

He did some snooping. Near the start. He knows they are from Orchard. And he knows about the stories about royal twins and how those are the heirs to be the next king that ascends or something.

Which just makes Geno more confused on what Ccino’s role is for the twins. If the twins’s ‘mother’ died in childbirth and the ‘father’ was the last king. Where did Ccino come in?

Geno would think that Ccino would be the king’s mate’s secret lover but that doesn’t work out either. Mostly because of Killer. Killer is Ccino’s mate and lover. That is obvious by how they interact and how they nuzzle and greet each other. The way that Killer greets the two kiddos as his own kids. Yet on the documents it just says that Ccino is their parent and there isn’t a mention of Killer.

Geno had been curious…

Especially with how they had reacted to Reaper.

Reaper had wanted to see the spot that made Geno leave the castle and his study. Reaper had wanted to visit and enjoy a cup of coffee.

As soon as Ccino had seen Reaper and normal cheer disappeared. There had only been a mask of politeness. Careful and measured responses and efficient movement. The two kids, only babies back then, had stared at Reaper and started fussing and crying when Reaper got too close to them.

The way Killer had been watching. Ready to tackle Reaper at the first wrong side.

Reaper and Geno both didn’t need more than two minutes to realise that there was a traumatic response to the very sight of a monarch. Geno made sure to get their orders to go. Apologising that he couldn’t sit down and drink but that they had a schedule. Ccino made the to go orders and even let them keep the cups. Saying that he didn’t have any to go cups but that it was alright.

The next time Geno come in he was alone again. He brought the two cups back and couldn’t help but notice that there where now paper cups and tops. Just in case clearly.

It wasn’t until a few days later that he met Dust for the first time.

It was near closing and Dust had walked in. Mysterious and dressed in a cloak. He walked up to Ccino and Ccino had smiled at him? He had hugged him as if he was an old friend and thanked him for being willing to watch the twins.

Geno had wanted to ask him what the deal was with his magic but Ccino had a very strict no tolerance of intolerance policy. Meaning he will kick you out and ban you if you are an ass.

So all Geno could do was watch and make actual small talk.

And now he visits almost daily to try and get a glance.

Reaper says it is cute that Geno has a crush.

His brothers think it is hilarious.

The door rings as Killer walks in.

Dream cheers and waddles over to Killer.

Killer grins as he spins the little babybones around “Well if it sin’t mister Dream Dusk! How are you doing DD?”

Dream giggles and wiggles happily. Neither of the twins are big on talking but that is alright.

Killer nods “Ah yes. Big day I hear. Learning to count higher is a very hard skill to learn.” And he nods as he walks over to Ccino “Hey Ccino.”

Ccino smiles back “Hey there.” He takes Dream and nuzzles the head before smiling brightly at Killer.

Killer grins as he pulls out a very nice looking ring. He gets on one knee and holds it out “Marry me?”

Geno hears some other guests gasp. He gets it. He would be shocked too. If it weren’t for the fact that he has seen about five proposals so far. He asked Ccino about it and Ccino had sheepishly admitted that for some reason Killer has decided to try and marry him in every single culture that there is. Meaning that there have been a lot od proposals.

It is still rather sweet.

Ccino giggles and accepts the proposal. Dream cheers as Killer kisses the other. Killer get sbehind the counter and greets some guests who are still in line and easily carries the conversation as Ccino walks around with a mission. He gets to a cupboard and opens it to retreat a second tiny skeleton. The second part of the twin set.

Ccino sighs “What did I tell you about hiding in there Nighty?” Nighty, or Nightmare Dawn as his full name, grins and nuzzles close to Ccino. Looking up at the other with big watery sockets.

Ccino obviously melts as he nuzzles the tiny babybones “Lets get you and your brother back to your beds.”

Nightmare whines and looks unhappy at Ccino.

Ccino grins “Well I will have to. Otherwise you don’t have enough energy to greet your aunty Robin and uncle Rogers now do we?”

Nightmare immediately looks excited and nods “Okay Da.”

Ccino grins as he walks over to Killer and Dream. He picks Dream up as well and after checking with Killer he leaves to disappear through the back door. Dream and Nightmare both happily wave at everyone else but specifically Killer as they both say “Bye Pa!” “Bye-bye Papa!” and the door closes as Killer giving a loud ‘love you two!’ into their directions.

It is sweet.

They are surrounded by mysteries and something else that Geno can’t put his finger on. But he won’t push.

He will try to learn of course but well. For now there is amazing coffee and he isn’t in a hurry.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)

art kid luke hughes

[mia-can-yap-too]

synopsis:- you ask the blue lock boys for a girls' night

warnings:- none

featuring:- isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, micheal kaiser, bachira meguru, sae itoshi

Isagi Yoichi

☆ he doesn't fight the vibes. or question why you called it a girls night even if it was just the two of you

☆ if it makes you happy, then he's all in

☆ he's a bit awkward at first, but once you guide him through putting on a face mask and letting him lean his head on your shoulder during Mean Girls, he melts completely

☆ if you ask him to paint your nails he will concentrate so hard. it'll take longer than you expect. by the time he's done, every limb of yours will be numb

☆ during the movie, he'll put a blanket over the two of you and cuddle while holding hands the whole time

☆ by the end of the night he's admitting he had fun and not-so-nonchalantly asks when you're doing this again

Rin Itoshi

☆ when you tell him you're having a girls night, he makes sure you know he's not doing anything weird

☆ but then you pull out a clay mask and beg to apply it on his face, and after a dramatic 5 second stare-off… he lets you

☆ he sits stiffly at first but slowly leans into your touch

☆ its quiet, kind of sacred

☆ you put on a movie and he'll watch it quietly

☆ he'll offer occasional commentary like “She's obviously lying. That guy's an idiot.”

☆ At some point you lean into him and rest your head on his chest

☆ he doesn't say anything

☆ doesn't even breathe for a minute

☆ then he just wraps his arm around you and plays with your fingers

☆ he won't be admitting he enjoyed it

Micheal Kaiser

☆ you ask him for a girls night and he acts like he wasn't waiting for this

☆ “Oh? Finally, someone's throwing a night worthy of me.”

☆ he shows up over-prepared

☆ silk robe, face masks imported from korea, snacks so expensive you're afraid to touch them

☆ he doesn't understand the concept of casual

☆ five minutes in he's lying on your bed, he's got his hair in a headband, a cucumber slice on one eye (he ate the other one) and he's critiquing your romcoms like some film major on tumblr

☆ “He's emotionally unavailable and she's settling. Next.”

☆ “If that were me, I'd have proposed in Act I.”

☆ lets you paint his nails gold but also half heartedly insults your technique

☆ deep down, he loves being pampered

☆ ends the night with a bunch of forehead kisses and love

Bachira Meguru

☆ you say girls night and he immediately perks up

☆ “Does that mean we're doing face masks and dancing in matching pajamas? Count me in!”

☆ he shows up to your room with a bucket hat, snacks and some glitter gel he found at a random shop

☆ he lays his head on your lap and lets you do his whole skincare routine, grinning the whole time

☆ “I'm glowing already! I feel so refreshed!” “I haven't even started, Meguru…”

☆ you put on a rom com and he acts out the characters dramatically, quoting cheesy lines and looking at you like, “Would you love me if I was a rock with violent diarrhea?”

☆ eventually he quiets down, and cuddles against you under the blankets

☆ “I like it when it's just us. Makes me feel warm.”

Sae Itoshi

☆ you don't ask, you just tell him over text

☆ says shit like “I'm not a girl” and “I don't do nights” but gets there in 10 minutes

☆ he walks in and sees your set up — face masks, fluffy blankets, popcorn and a rom-com queued up— he sighs likes preparing for battle

☆ you're straddling his lap 30 seconds later, smoothing serum into his face as he closes his eyes and melts.

☆ he'd never say it, but your hands on him are the calmest he's felt all week

☆ lets you curl into him during the movie

☆ when you jokingly offer to paint his nails pink, he stares at you… then wordlessly offers his hand

☆ looks down at your work and gives a huff of approval

☆ “You better know you're the only one I'd let do this.”

a/n:- rawr

divider by @/strangergraphics, header by me

masterlist

[writethrough]

I Know Better

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.

Warnings: Language, slut-shaming

Word Count: 1396

A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.

I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  

This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.

And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.

I hope you enjoy!

Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me

"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 

Moodboard by @saradika

Billy Hargrove never scared you. 

Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 

You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 

You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 

Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 

He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 

You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 

It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 

You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 

You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 

Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 

In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 

You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 

“Wanna say that again?” 

Your brows pulled in confusion. 

What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 

It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 

Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 

He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 

Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 

Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 

I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 

No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 

Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 

The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 

At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 

You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 

“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 

“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 

“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 

Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 

It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 

He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 

“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 

You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 

This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 

But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 

“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 

There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 

“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 

“You’ll have mine.” 

The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 

You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 

— 

That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 

He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 

“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 

“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 

He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 

“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 

You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 

You took a shot in the dark. 

“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 

His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 

So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 

But why? 

And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 

You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 

“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 

“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 

At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 

“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 

“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 

Of course, that was what he took away. 

“Billy,” you warned playfully. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 

You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 

“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 

“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 

Names.  

You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 

You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 

He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 

“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 

“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 

He leaned his elbows on the table. 

“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 

Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

[byexbyez]

love me more | leon kennedy x f!reader

pairing: re4r!leon kennedy x f!reader

summary:

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.

word count: 19k

warnings: 18+ towards the end, angst, yearning, marriage of convenience but there isn't a tangible convenience, strangers to spouses dynamic, grief/mourning, depictions of depression and low self-esteem, also trauma and anxiety, family issues, kinda touch-starved leon if you squint, domestic fluff if you try hard enough, non-linear and vague timeline, mentions of canon typical violence, alcohol and cigarette consumption, p in v smut, brief alternation of POVs, ada wong mention, suicidal thoughts, minor original character, minor character death, spoilers to the hunchback of notre dame, no use of y/n

notes: meant to post this on tumblr after i was done with it but that never happened so here, have it. took me 16 months to post it here lmao. english is not my first language. you have been warned. also beware of a whole lot of mitski and hozier references. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved

Me and my husband We're doing better

—Me and My Husband, Mitski

It’s quiet. It has always been that way from the start. Your husband is late, which is not unusual. You sit in the somber light coming from your living room TV. You don’t like the overhead lights, which explains the abundance of lamps around the living room and bedroom in your home. Your husband found it strange that you never turned on the actual lights but it didn’t take him long to realize that you were right. Any kind of overhead light was annoying to him now. He blamed you for his headaches at work.

No matter how many times you told him that he could turn on the overhead lights he insisted that he did not like them anymore. “I like it like this,” he had said. “You’re right, it’s cozier this way.” His head was on your knee, his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful. You wanted to brush his hair away from his face and maybe scratch a bit as if he was a cat. But you didn’t, you had no idea what he would react like to such an intimate gesture. You turned your gaze away from his peaceful sleeping face to the TV you had been watching on low volume before he stepped through your home’s front door.

It was a fucking joke, really. Thinking twice, three times about touching the man that you call your husband.

You hear his keys jumble from the door. He didn’t tell you what time he would be home, so you didn’t prepare anything for dinner. It’s late anyways. You consider closing your eyes and resting your head on the back of the couch but it hasn’t been long since he told you he could tell when you were not sleeping. You thought about the number of times you pretended and he could tell. Embarrassing. Now that your secret was out, you had to greet him awkwardly.

He calls your name. “Are you asleep?” His voice very faint.

“No,” you answer while untucking your legs from under your butt. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He places the keys on the keyholder. “No lights?”

You reach to your side and turn on one lamp. “I didn’t realize the sun had set.”

“It’s past eleven.” Now that the lamp was on you could see his worried eyes. His five o’clock shadow prominent. “Did you eat anything?” he asks. You can’t tell if he hopes you did or not.

The moment you see the plastic bag in his hand, you shake your head no. Honestly, you were hungry because it had been hours since you ate a bowl of cereal as dinner.

He steps over your legs instead of pushing the coffee table away to make room for himself and plops next to you on the couch. “Brought Chinese,” he says and places the food bag on your lap instead of the coffee table. “You like their fried dumplings.”

You aren’t surprised that he remembers it. He was nice like that, maybe he thinks this is the least he can do. Soon after the wedding, he realized you did not enjoy cooking. It has never been a problem, he knew his way around the kitchen and knew of really good takeout places.  

“Thank you,” you say softly while leaning on the table to place the noodles and the dumplings. “Leon, did you drink?” you ask when you catch a whiff of him.

“Yeah, I’m a little tipsy.”

That explains his lax attitude. He has his arm around you across the back of the couch, he’s sitting close to you. It’s because he wants to eat, you say to yourself. And he’s a little tipsy.

“Did you have fun?” you ask when you separate your chopsticks.

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he says, watching you separate his chopsticks for him. “I had a drink by myself.”

“Only one?” you chuckle.

“One or two,” He cocks his head to your direction and grabs the chopsticks from your fingers. His fingertips are warm.

Unlike you, his body always runs hot. You remember the comment he made when he held your hand and cupped one cheek, kissing you after you two had said “I do”. His breath was hot on the lower part of your face. You somehow felt him everywhere and nowhere at once. “It’s really hot, why are your hands cold?” he had whispered. It was unusually hot on the day you eloped. Leon had to dab his sweat away so often.

“I’m just nervous,” you had whispered back. The hand that he was not holding was trembling, surely, he could tell.

“No need to be.” That was what he said right before your first kiss. It was more of a short peck because he was a gentleman who didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

It was easier for him to say, he didn’t have anything to be nervous about. He looked really beautiful that day and it didn’t help your nerves one bit. You felt like you were committing a crime while signing your documents that sealed the fact that you were now married to Leon Kennedy. You wonder if he felt the same, knowing this marriage was not a real one.

You didn’t lie to anyone really, so why did it feel like you did? You never told anyone you were in love. You never told anyone this was legit. You just told your sister you were married and that Leon was a good man. She had shrieked over the phone, demanded that you quit joking. The moment she was convinced that you were not, she expected pictures of him. The only picture you had of him was from the day you eloped. He had taken your cold hand and placed it on his arm. His other hand on his stomach so he didn’t look awkward. You had raised your small bouquet of baby’s breath to your torso as well. You did not look as nervous as you thought when the photo came in the mail but Leon looked more handsome than you remembered. You emailed it to your sister.

It didn’t take long for her to respond. How the hell did you bag that man??? Do you have blackmail material against him?

We met at work, you replied shortly.

I thought you worked with dudes that are old as fuck.

We don’t work together. Met through a coworker.

Maybe I should change careers. I mean how hard can it be to train as a government agent???

You looked at the multiple question marks she sent after that. I’m telling your husband.

I showed him the picture and he agrees that he’s hot lol. He also would like to have you guys over.

So you both can ask him what he sees in me?

Hey, I’m only joking. We would really like you guys to come over. I want to meet my brother-in-law.

I’ll tell him but he’s very busy.

Sooo what does he do?

Like I said, he’s an agent. Mostly confidential work.

So you can’t tell me?

I really can’t.

You know what? It’s annoying that you can’t tell me what he does but I can understand. What I can’t understand is you getting married. Out of the blue. Without telling me.

That email left a bitter taste in your mouth. She could tell that it was not real. She knew that you were not easy to love. She knew it was impossible for you to get married. That’s why you stalled her invitation for nearly two years. You hadn’t even asked Leon because you did not know how he would react. He knew you had a sister across the country and that she was older than you but never asked about her for a while. You weren’t offended at his uninterest in your life. He didn’t have any reason to be interested in you.

He did say he was an orphan, that one time.

It all made sense after that, he didn’t like to talk about families. Maybe because he wasn’t used to belong. To belong to a family. Belong to someone. Think about them because he belongs to them and they belong to him.

All things considered, you thought Leon turned out more than okay. Closed off but very kind, gentle, understanding.

He leans forward and helps you split one dumpling into two with his chopsticks. His shoulder bumps yours and stays there because he refuses to let go of the back of the couch behind you. When you pull your sleeve over your fingers, he quickly eats one whole dumpling, leaving you with the smaller one that he helped you split and covers your hand with his.

“You cold?” He looks silly when he stuffs his face full of food.

“No.”

“Your hands are cold.” He doesn’t’ say like always but it’s there in his voice.

He doesn’t mind touching you when he’s in a good mood, mostly when he’s a little intoxicated like this. Usually, he’s not a touchy person. You’re glad he’s not, it reminds you that you definitely like him more than he likes you. He needs the little nudge of alcohol to let go of his inhibitions. He didn’t touch you until you gave him the green light on your birthday. He didn’t know what to get you as a gift so he got you yellow roses and the blandest birthday card known to man.

Happy Birthday, from Leon.

“It isn’t anything special, I know.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not good at this stuff.”

But it was special, it was from him; with his emotionally constipated, probably unintended curt message. You knew deep down he had a big heart. He cared enough to stop on his way to get you these. You didn’t think much, because there were times when you didn’t need to think about this, you just reached and hugged him around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. “They smell really nice. We need to get a vase for them.”

He finally put his arms around you and you felt the stiffness of his shoulders on top of yours. It was six months into your married life.

Yellow roses. He saw you as a friend. You were okay with it, as long as it meant he was not pushing you away. You were not terrible by any means. Boring and awkward, definitely. But you made it clear to him that he could talk to you about what he wanted when he wanted. He was adamant that it went both ways. However, you genuinely don’t think anything going in your life is worth talking about. Hence, he’s the one who ends up talking most of the time.

He rubs your fingers to bring them warmth. The air of the living room feels awfully similar to that one time he surprised you and laid his head on your lap. That one time you wanted to play with his hair but didn’t. It was just like this. Quiet despite the TV’s low volume, comfortable as the light coming from the lamps was soft on the eyes, smelling of alcohol as he was a little drunk. Unsure as your hands were cold and was this what being friends meant?

Sometimes he craved the quiet. He worked and worked and worked. Voices everywhere. Danger constant. His only quiet was home, you suppose.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

“I ate cereal,” you answer him.

“Has no nutritional value whatsoever,” he mutters.

“Yeah, it’s just me being lazy.”

“I don’t think we have anything in the fridge, I don’t blame you.”

You both finish your food in silence, you pretend to watch the screen in front of you the whole time. You hug your knees to your chest when you’re done and he looks like he can fall asleep any minute.

“How was your day?” you ask to keep him awake. You don’t want him to sleep here and have his back and neck all sore tomorrow.

He rests his chin on his shoulder and gives you a funny look through his long lashes. “Same as always.”

You admit to yourself that you love him like this. He seems free, happy even.

You decide to be bold and tap your shoulder for him to lay his head on.  

He doesn’t seem to be thinking twice as he takes your offer and nuzzles his head on your shoulder. He’s taller and bigger than you, you suppose the position he’s in right now is not comfortable for him. He reaches back around the couch and the other hand crosses his abdomen, gripping your ankle that he is closest to. His thumb draws circles there and your brain short circuits. “How was yours?”

“My day? Nothing exciting. All paperwork.”

He hums as he squeezes your ankle, his hair tickling your nose and lips.

“You really need a shower, Leon.” You make up the courage to smooth down his blonde hair that is sticking up in every direction.

He hums again. “Are you telling me I stink?”

“Yes, mister.”

“I’m tired,” he groans but doesn’t seem tired enough as he pushes his head and messes up your balance on the couch. You have to hold on to the arm rest as he keeps nudging you with his head.

“You’ll feel gross in the morning if you don’t have a shower.”

“You have a point,” he says but does nothing to get up. Maybe it was a bad idea to offer him your shoulder and unknowingly, your ankle. He’s never acted like a kid like this before.

You get up and turn off the TV before you offer him both of your hands. “You’re not tipsy, you’re drunk. Now get up and wash yourself please.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are. You headbutted me.”

He takes your hands and finally gets up. “I think I ran out of shampoo.”

“You can use mine. Brush your teeth while I go get it.” You pat his back.

There’s two bedrooms in the house, one is for guests but you’ve never had guests over since you’ve both moved into this apartment. Leon uses the “guest” room downstairs. He insisted that you take the bigger room. He’s more like a roommate than a spouse.

He’s shirtless in front of the sink, brushing his teeth like you told him to when you knock on his bathroom door and hand him your shampoo. He reads the fragrance and opens its cap to smell it.

“Well, you smell nice so I can’t complain,” he says, toothbrush still in his mouth, dribbling toothpaste everywhere.

You love him in moments like these. This is the moment the wife reaches and kisses the husband. Well, maybe after he’s done dribbling everywhere but you know how this moment should go about. He won’t be like this in the morning. You know very well that he is going to be sober and back to normal Leon. He won’t say anything about his drunk self because he knows you won’t as well.

“Don’t fall in the shower!” you shout as you go upstairs to your room.

“I’m not that drunk!”

The next morning, he sees you making coffee in the kitchen. It hasn’t been long since your schedule got aligned with his. He wonders how the hell you managed to adjust your sleeping hours to the point now you could wake up before him. He used to wake up before you because you often had late shifts.

“Morning,” he says as he smells the delicious coffee that you’re pouring into two mugs. He yawns, scratching an itch on his arm. He did not use to have a coffee machine back when he was living alone. You had brought it with you to this house and saved him from Starbucks’ morning rush hour.

You slide one of the mugs in front of him and give him a warm smile. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

He blows on the coffee before he takes a sip. “Much better now.” He clears his throat, his morning voice gruff. “I was thinking… We should commute together.”

“To work?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Where else?” he snorts. “What’s surprising? Why pay more for gas when we start work at the same time?”

“Wouldn’t that be…”

“It wouldn’t interfere with anything if you think about it. It’s stupid to take both cars to the same place.”

“I might work overtime,” you say and hug yourself.

He nods into his mug and seems like he wants to say more. “Then you can take your car. You’ve just started normal hours. Why are you eager to tire yourself out so quickly?”

So that we don’t have to be awkward around each other.

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.

It is what you repeat to yourself over and over again. It was convenient to have slept with him. It didn’t have to be a big deal. You were lonely. You reckon he had to be, too. Because why else would he want to have sex with you? He did not love you or anything. You could only think of one thing when his face was buried in your neck. You still had his yellow roses. You had preserved them between your book pages.

As he was panting above you, hands grasping your hips with vigor, your thighs caging him in and burning, you felt like a rose stuck between thousands of words never read aloud. Yellow all over, sticking out like a sore thumb between words printed in the smallest font size possible, suffocating. Once belonged with other flowers but now settled down in a place where people thought you’d look pretty.

You hate the color yellow as much as you hate the word convenient. If not, more.

He sees you wince. He cannot guess the reason behind it is his choice of words. “What do you say?”

He is offering, you think. He still likes you enough to ask.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to get groceries on the way back.”   

People don’t whisper much now that it’s been nearly two years since you two announced to your close work circle that you were married. There were a lot of surprised faces at first, thinking maybe Leon was joking or something. People didn’t know you very well. You were only close with Cathy.

“Perhaps we should wear rings,” said Leon once over dinner. “People don’t believe we’re married.”

“Is that a problem? What others think, I mean?”

He stared at your face while chewing, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking thanks to the dim light emanating from one of the lamps. “They think it’s a joke. Is it so bad that I want to be taken seriously for once? You wanted a wedding dress, I want a ring.”

“When do you want to get them?”

That led to you choosing matching rings with Leon. Simple gold bands. You make sure to wear them to work every day because if you don’t, you worry people will start to whisper again.

First it was, Leon’s not the type to get married, he’s taking the piss out of us, is it April fools today?

Then it turned into: Oh God, he’s serious, he says he got married last weekend.

Eloped? To whom?

He said her name but I don’t remember it, said she’s in archives now.

He’s married to an archivist? How on earth did they meet?

Probably in Donovan’s funeral, saw Hunnigan introducing them.

That wasn’t long ago!

I know, right?

You know some of them thought you had a one-night stand and got pregnant from him. The rumors subsided when that didn’t turn out to be true.

However, people were curious about why Ingrid Hunnigan would introduce an archivist to an agent. It didn’t take long for your name to become known because you had recently switched departments. You had been a systems analyst like Hunnigan, working with late Cathy Donovan. You’d switched to archives after her funeral.

People greeted you when they saw you. Leon’s wife, right?

Yes, but not really.

The first time Leon ever saw you was during agent Donovan’s funeral. He’d gotten back from Spain just a week ago. He did not know agent Donovan well but her name echoed in every corner. She was good at her job. Most of the time, nobody had an idea what she was up to.

“Leon, I want you to meet Cathy’s partner,” said Hunnigan, holding the shoulder of the woman standing next to her.

You stuck your hand out for him to shake and told him your name. It sounded disconsolate coming from your mouth, your own name. Your eyes were dazed, you kept your mouth in a thin line. You didn’t even look at him properly as if this was the hundredth occurrence today, Hunnigan introducing you to someone.

“I’ve heard a lot of great things about agent Donovan.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Right, she was great,” you said, your eyes straying elsewhere. It looked like Hunnigan’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from crumbling down. You looked so small with your shoulders hunched forward. He cringed when he saw you rip out the flesh of the side of your thumb.

Hunnigan went on about Cathy Donovan’s accomplishments to him. You continued to pick at your thumb, him watching your side profile as you kept averting your gaze from people around you. You seemed to be dissociating hard.

“These two were inseparable. I tried asking Cathy to work with me on a small mission once and she praised her so much in turn, I had to suck it up and meet this woman myself as soon as possible,” said Hunnigan heatedly. “I’m such a big fan of Cathy’s, you see, I couldn’t be upset. I love seeing her work with the best.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you managed to say, a beat too late. “I need to use the restroom, be right back.”

Leon knew too well that losing someone was difficult, yet he couldn’t imagine what you were going through. He furrowed his brows the moment his hand made contact with your upper arm. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, he didn’t want to seem like he took pity on you.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

You made the effort to look him in the eye when it was obvious as day that you were having a hard time keeping your head up.

Your voice barely came out, “Thank you.”

Of course, you did not recognize him the second time he saw you. It was his late celebratory dinner for his mission in Spain. His coworkers had planned a small one, saying he deserved it. Once he was done with his food, he excused himself saying he wanted to get fresh air.

Not too far from the restaurant, you were sitting on a bench alone.

“Those things will kill you, y’know,” he said, eyes pointing to the cigarette you were smoking.

His unexpected voice caused you to jump in your seat. You quickly put the cigarette out by stomping it with your shoe. “I don’t usually… smoke.”

He dragged his feet while walking to sit down on the opposite end of the bench. “You didn’t have to put it out.” Though he thought you were very considerate by doing so.

“Congratulations, for the mission.”

“Thank you— name’s Leon, by the way.”

You stuck your chin out to the direction of the restaurant, “Or so I heard in there.”

“We actually met before. At the funeral.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t remember half the people I met there.”  

“No need to be sorry. You seemed out of it.”

“Yeah, we worked together for a long time, Cathy and I.”

“Look, I know it’s hard and anything I say probably won’t make any difference—”

“You don’t need to—” Your voice quite literally got stuck on your throat, you composed yourself by bringing the side of your fist to your mouth and coughed into it. “I’m trying to get better. I’m here today, which is a miracle in of itself. I know people think it’s probably good to talk about her but I’m just not in the mood, okay? Thank you for your understanding but I don’t need to be reminded, it happened not so long ago.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“No, I know you mean well.” You started to sway your feet on the gravel. It was completely understandable for you to lash out but you seemed uneasy as soon as it was out of you. “Sorry, this is your happy day. I shouldn’t—”

“You realize how many times we said sorry to each other in this past minute?” he laughed. “Also, I lost a partner in Spain. I’m not that happy today.”

Your voice turning faint, seemingly regretting your flash of anger a moment ago, “You probably feel like you shouldn’t be happy.”

He nodded. “He helped me a lot but didn’t make it.” He saw your mouth open and stopped you there. “Don’t say you’re sorry. It loses its meaning when you say it too much.”

“Even if I mean it with my whole heart every time?”

“That means you’re sorry for a lot of things. It’s not healthy to carry that much weight on your shoulders.”

“Right, I’ll be like Quasimodo.” You hunched your shoulders even more forward. “Like the hunchback.”

“From the Disney movie?”

You giggled at his childishness. “Yeah, I heard there’s also a book about it.”

He looked at your squinted eyes and thought you deserved to be happy more.

As you two carried on your now meaningless conversation, he did not know that you were certain on resigning from your job and never turning back to it. You’d started to work on the archives that week, partly because your boss had foreseen you contemplating quitting all together and did not want to lose a highly valuable member such as yourself and partly because you had requested it.

At that point, you were absolutely aware of the fact that they feared you’d never turn back to your former position. And because Cathy didn’t have any plans of ever becoming alive, you also didn’t have any plans on returning. But you knew the reason behind them doing anything you asked was them giving you time to grieve. After that, the pressure would build even more and hopefully make you take your old place.

“It was Hunnigan’s idea,” you said to Leon after he asked you very kindly why you were here tonight. “Basically dragged me here. She thinks I should be around people more.”

“She’s right. I’m glad you came.”

Leon was cute, alright. That didn’t do him justice, actually. It was evident under the street light where the bench was that he worked out regularly. Biceps giving a hard time to his sleeves every time he moved, veins protruding on his forearms, his thighs looking like they’d help him carry ten people on his large back. And oh, his broader-than-the-horizon shoulders. An absolute unit of a man with cheekbones and jawline honed like a Greek statue. With his dark blonde hair falling on his face in that charming way and his oh so kind blue eyes, you knew he was out of your league.

His gentle aura making him seem like a Prince Charming or a white knight or whatever the fuck those Disney movies had.

You planned on never seeing anyone from work again, you had nothing to lose. And Cathy so would say to shoot your shot.

“I’m thinkin’ of getting a few drinks in me, want to tag along?”

“What do you have in mind?” He seemed interested, a good sign.

“You got any suggestions? And don’t say beer because I plan on getting wasted beyond recognition in like an hour.”

“Yeah, be careful. And don’t drink and drive.” The way he took a U-turn on his interest irritated you. You really thought he wouldn’t say no, you were getting along well, flirting even. “Did you come here with your car?”

“Yeah.” You tried to not sound upset. “I’m not a teenager. I’ll take a cab. Drinks will be on me.”

“Ah, thanks but I’ll have to refuse. They’ll probably wonder where I went. It’s my dinner, after all.” The polite smile he gave you was so infuriating.

You got up from the bench. He had the audacity to look you up and down after that. “Then please tell Hunnigan I’m sorry I left early, will you?”

“I will.” He fidgeted and crossed his arms. Oh God, you’d made him uncomfortable. It was just minutes ago he was sort of flirting with you. “Don’t drink too much.”

God, why did he have to be so annoying?

The next time you two met was at the closest pharmacist to work, few weeks after his dinner and your failed attempt to get him in your bed.  

“One box of aspirin, please.” Your head snapped up at that voice. Unmistakably, Leon. With his broad back facing you, he hadn’t seen you yet.

“What can I get you, miss?”

Leon stepped over to the side when they called to you, still not looking at you.

“Eyedrops, please.”

“Miss, are you alright?”

To that, he did a double-take. You’d looked disheveled to the point of worry. Eyes and nose a few shades redder than the rest of your face, eyebags puffy and makeup smudged. With your now extremely frizzy baby hairs doing anything but their job of framing your face, it was apparent that you’d been crying.

“Yes, it’s just an allergy.”

“Can I get you anything for that?”

“No, thank you. I already have meds for it.”

Leon thanked when they gave him his aspirin and turned to you. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere.” He quickly left the pharmacist.

Surprisingly, you did wait for him outside. Why? You had no idea. Frankly, you were hoping to cry more in your car.

Approximately five minutes later, he came to you jogging lightly. He thrusted a water bottle in your hand. “Where’s your medication?”

“What?”

“For your allergy?”

“Oh, um—” You couldn’t find a lie fast enough, usually you were not bad at lying but the way he appeared to be worrying about your well-being was baffling to say the least. “I don’t have it, I mean—” You pressed the water bottle to your stomach and held on to it for comfort. “I don’t have an allergy.”

It was his turn to be baffled. “Are you alright?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You don’t look like it.” He looked at you and around you as though checking to see any injury. “You should drink up.” He motioned to the bottle and watched you take a gulp.

“Thank you. Oh, you should, too,” You tried to give him the rest of the water while his stare questioned you. “For your aspirin.”

“I already took it. I’m supposed to take it with water?”

“Yes, Leon. Have you been taking them without water this whole time? Then why did you bring me water?”

“I didn’t know that! You looked dehydrated.”

“That’s not good for you. Now I’m worried about your stomach.”

His blue eyes shined like he came to a revelation. “That’s why my stomach burns when I take them?”

How are you this stupid, you suppressed saying, if you had known him well enough at that time, you definitely would. You forgot for a second that you were annoyed at him for rejecting you few weeks ago and find yourself flabbergasted at thinking that he is endearing, in a way.

You made small talk with him about his lunch break and he insisted on walking you to your car.

“Can I help you with anything?” he said sympathetically once you stood in front of your open car door. “You still look…”

Like a truck hit me, you wanted to complete his sentence.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It just happens time to time.” You tried to make yourself presentable by adjusting your blouse and hair.

“It?”

“Sometimes I cry for no reason. It happens randomly, too, I don’t know when and where I’ll be crying most of the time. Like, I’ll be reading something, it doesn’t have to be sad, I mean— I was reading reports before I came here. Sometimes it gets too much, like now.”

“Will you be okay driving?”

“Yeah! Talking with you definitely helped.” His apprehensive gaze pierced through you. You actually felt like crying again, your chest feeling tight, eyes burning. You stood upright with the support of your car door. “I’ll be fine, Leon.”

“I’m choosing to believe you. Drive safe.” He shifted his weight on one of his legs and seemed ready to take off.

“Thank you. See you around?”

“You probably won’t for a while,” he said to the ground, soothing the itch on his calf with his other leg’s shin. He looked up and squinted his eyes against the sun. “I got assigned a mission. I don’t know for how long.”

“Oh, I’ll be at your celebratory dinner then, if I get an invitation.”

“Well, I don’t know how it will go. I’ll only invite you if you won’t talk for the whole dinner but flirt with me outside again.”

“You didn’t need to embarrass me like that,” you chuckled nervously. “I wouldn’t say I’m a push and pull kind of woman.”

“You can show me what kind of woman you are when I get back?”

“Very smooth, Leon.”

He seemed taken aback. “I’ll see you then.” Suddenly, he was distant again. This time you didn’t know what made him uneasy.

“Yeah… Be safe on your mission.”

He just nodded. You got in your car and gripped the steering wheel tightly until the sight of his leather jacket clad back disappeared. You hunched forward, shoved your forehead to the wheel and tried to take a deep breath. The crying spell didn’t go away as the tears burst down first and then the sobs jerked your entire body.

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

—Like Real People Do, Hozier

The inside of Leon’s car smells nice, he takes good care of it.

“I’m going to see my sister this weekend,” you say, averting your gaze from the way he steers the wheel with one hand. His other hand is on his knee, tapping away. The effect his toned arms have on you is humiliating.

“I think I can make it.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t have anything that day. I can go with you. It’s your mother’s death anniversary, right? I think it’s time I pay my respects.”

It’s these things he says that leave you puzzled. He’s incredibly thoughtful, no matter who he’s talking to. He very well could have his day off-work for himself, but he asks anyway.

“Do you actually want to meet my sister?”

“I do. I hope to make a good first impression.”

You think about it for a second and end up telling him. “I sent a picture of you to her back when we got married.”

“How’d you get a picture of me?” he asks, appalled. The only picture he has of himself besides the wedding one is on his badge.

“Our wedding picture, dummy. We have one, remember?”

“Oh, right, I forgot.” You can’t complain because you keep it in a dresser drawer in the envelope it came in. He was on duty again when it came and you’d showed it to him once he was home. The left corner of his lips had curled up and for a second, you thought you saw affection in his eyes. “It came out okay? I was sweating buckets, but you—" he’d said and pointed a finger to your face in the photo. “Your hands were ice cold, I nearly asked you to paste your hands to my forehead just so I could cool down.”

“We still have the picture, right?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s in my room. Why?”

“Can I have it?”

“Yeah, they sent two. Can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”

“Give it to the mafia or hire a hitman to go after you, what else?” He lets out a hollow laugh. You want to record the sound and have it forever play in your ears. “I want to frame it and put it on my desk. People usually have pictures of their spouses and children or even their dogs on their desks, no?”

Yes, you know. You have pictures with your best friend and sister on your own desk at work.

It’s his way of saying you mean something to him.

You call your sister’s name as soon as you see it. “Why do you have this picture here?”

She’s carrying the empty plates to the sink as you hold on to her fridge’s door handle.

She looks up to see you pointing at your wedding picture. It’s on her fridge. You don’t even display it in your own house.

“You printed it?”

“I did,” she says. “It’s a good picture.” Her house is littered with pictures of her and her husband on different vacations, of you and your mother and her together in some.

“You just met Leon today.”

“And I think he’s great. You’re happy with him. That’s all I could ask for.”

You were happy since he was in a good mood the entire ride coming here. It was long but you two had a smooth ride and he amused you with his corny jokes and stories. You tore small pieces of bagel and fed him when he said he was getting hungry. He was tired from driving the whole time, but of course he didn’t have it any other way and jestingly banned you from getting behind the wheel. He did make a good first impression like he promised, although he kept bobbing his cramped leg. He’s now in the backyard with your brother-in-law, chatting about football, probably.

Your sister gets your attention by giving you a side hug and rubbing your back. “You’re my only sister, of course I’m going to have a picture of your happiest day.”

You hug her back around her waist. She even had photos of your birth in the living room. Your mom in a hospital bed, one day-old baby you cradled in her arms, your father hugging your mother and looking down at you with adoration in his eyes. Did he know then, that he would never be there for you to look at you like that again?

“You remember dad, right?” you ask quietly. She was older and was able to tell stories about him to you. “How was he like? Before he left, I mean.”

“Like I told you, he loved us so much. I don’t know if it was the same case for my mom. She later told me she saw it coming, that he likely had another woman.”

“How did mom know?”

Your sister sighs and rest her head on top of yours. “She said she could just feel it. Said he felt distant. He used to come home late leading up to it, sometimes drunk. One day I woke up and he wasn’t home. Didn’t say anything, just abandoned us like that.”

There’s that sadness again, creeping up to your chest and placing a big rock there. You feel like you’re being crushed by it. Your mom had always been ambitious, had dreams for herself and her family, deserved so much more than what she got.

Leon’s laughing loudly in the backyard, your head whips to see the sight.

“Come on, go mingle with your husband. I got it from here,” says your sister and starts to place the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’ll go get us some beer,” says your brother-in-law and gets up from his chair. The weather is amazing today, your sister had set up a nice meal outside. Leon was getting along with them well. What more could you ask for?

You find yourself alone with Leon when your brother-in-law goes inside the house. You sit next to him and he promptly puts his arm on the back of your chair.

“How’s your leg?” you ask him.

“My thighs are sore,” he groans. “Good thing we’re not driving back tonight.”

“Well, I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You put a hand on his knee and start to massage, hoping it will help his aching legs. You’re even bolder than a few days ago. He doesn’t seem to mind it.

“It hurts here,” he says and grabs your hand, placing it higher on his thigh. “You can put more pressure, I can hardly feel it.” His thigh is firm and thank God, your hands manage to stay stable. You ball your hands into fists and start to punch lightly where he wants. The meat of his thighs doesn’t even jiggle, reminding you that he’s mostly made of muscle.

You focus up on his knees. “I’ll drive us to the cemetery tomorrow.”

“I can—”

“No. You’re tired, Leon. I want to drive, don’t make me upset.”  

“Would you actually be upset if I—”

“Yes, very.” You pinch his thigh and that makes him press his lips together.

“They’re really nice, you know,” he means your sister and her husband. “I feel like an ass for not meeting them sooner.”

“You like them?” You raise an eyebrow.  

“I do.”

“So, any propositions?”

“Huh?”

“Got asked for a threesome yet?” you smirk.

“I’m sorry?” He’s horrified and you find it funny.

“After I sent the wedding picture to them, they both said you were hot. I just remembered it.”

“I’d rather not know that!”

“Relax, Kennedy. I’m just joking. They’re not gonna ask you that.”

He visibly relaxes and puts you in a headlock in a play-fight manner with the arm that was behind you. His nose and mouth pressed up against your hair, he says, “I’ll just tell them I’m a one-lady type of man if they ever do.” You consider biting his arm.

“Can the lovebirds look up here for a second?” chirps your sister. She has come with her camera outside. “It’s the golden hour.”

Leon adjusts his head to look towards the camera and relaxes his hold on you, arm dangling from your shoulder, other hand engulfs yours on his knee, rings clashing.  

“Aww,” your sister coos as she takes the photo. “I’ll send this to you.”

She doesn’t suspect a thing, probably because you’re not pretending anymore.

You splash your face with cold water after you’re done brushing your teeth in your sister’s guest room bathroom. Leon’s inside the room, splayed out on the bed, exhausted after today. It won’t be awkward, you say to yourself, hope to God your hands don’t start to tremble from anxiety.

Leon has taken off his t-shirt, bent one of his knees and put his hands behind his head. Not helping your case by looking irresistible. Even the tufts of hair under his arms are endearing to you.

“How are you holding up?” he asks once you sit on the bed next to him, back facing him. He knows you will visit Cathy too when you get back.

“I’m good, Leon.” You take off your ring and place it next to his on the bedside drawer. “Never been better, actually. I missed them.” You twist your upper body to face him. “Here,” you say as you place your newly washed cold damp hands on both sides of his face in attempts to cool him down.

He shivers, his shoulders going up slightly for a quick second. “That’s nice,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. You’re silent, in part because you’re speechless before his beauty, but you also would like to try to give him a little piece of serenity he needs.

“This used to be my mom’s room when she was living here.”

He hums softly and opens his eyes, his hands coming up to hold on to your bare arms, the skin between his eyebrows pinched.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, hands finding place on his broad shoulders.

He starts to rub your arms up and down, his hands stopping after a while to trace a strap of your tank top with his fingers. All of your worries about intimate gestures going out the window the moment you let his hands wander.

This is the tender domesticity that you’ve been longing for so badly, you want to thank him.

He scrunches his nose. “I wanted to kiss you, now I think it’ll be inappropriate.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your grip on his shoulders is now stronger, begging not to tremble. He feels lonely, he shouldn’t have come here. You have to swallow hard. “It won’t.”

His hand goes up to cup the back of your neck, he’s staring at your lips like he doesn’t wish for anything else. “C’mere.” He tugs at your hip to get the lower half of your body up on the bed. He drapes you halfway on his torso.

Once you’re situated to his liking and casting a shadow on his face, he brings you down ever so gently to his mouth, massaging your nape. He’s hot all over, his mouth, his breath on your face, his chest, the hand that’s splaying his fingers on the small of your back. With his soft lips moving lazily against yours, you’re quite literally bursting at the seams. The muffled sigh he drags across your mouth tempts you to press your entire body to his harder and sling your leg across his hips.

His kisses turn into open-mouthed ones and he tastes like minty toothpaste and sunlight on golden hour.

A small noise comes out of your throat, hands straying down to his bare chest and he has to cradle your face to stop. “We should sleep.” His Adam’s apple bobs enticingly. “I seriously don’t want to disrespect your mother’s ghost.”

A laugh escapes your lips as he hugs your head and buries it to his chest, his chin resting on top. “You’ll apologize to her tomorrow.”

It’s okay, you think when you feel the low timbre of his chuckle on his chest. We’re okay. We’re doing better.

There's no plan, there's no race to be run The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come I'll be your man if you got love to get done Sit in and watch the sunlight fade Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late There's no plan, there's no hand on the rein

—No Plan, Hozier

The fourth time you saw Leon Kennedy was at a bar. You thought his coworkers were going to be there to see him after his mission but it was just you two.

He had emailed you a day before, saying he asked for your email address from Hunnigan, inviting you for drinks the next day and apologizing for letting you know this late.

“Where’s everyone? Am I early?” you asked, despite noticing the table he was sitting at was for two people.

He looked up and you were taken aback by the sight of him. He looked tired. He had a bit of a stubble and his hair was tousled. “No, you’re right on time,” he said, getting up to pull your chair for you. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” you said, ridding yourself from your jacket. You actually put in the effort to look good that day. A nice outfit, a little bit more makeup, hair done.

As you sat down in front of him, a corner of his lips went up, “You look good.”

“The last time we spoke wasn’t my best moment.”

“How have you been?”

You placed your hands on the table and started to play with your fingers, anxious. “Since then? Better, I suppose. How about you? Your mission went well?”

“Depends on how you define well.”

“You’re still in one piece.”

“If only that was enough.” You didn’t get to see his disappointed expression for long when a server came up to your table and Leon quickly ordered a drink, asked what you wanted and waited with his hands together on the table.

Once the server was away, you slightly leaned towards him. “They should be grateful that they got their best agent back alright.” Although you couldn’t ask him any details about his mission, you knew he was a special agent that was good at this job.

“Hunnigan told me you’re in the archives.”

“Yeah, that happened months ago, before your dinner.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“I—uh…” Your throat felt dry under his piercing stare. “I wasn’t needed there anymore. So I transferred.”

“Really? I heard it’s quite the opposite.”

“Oh, they���re talking about me?”

“Yes, seems like they really want you to work with agents again.”

“I know that,” you said and dug your fingernails to the corner of the table, his eyes following the motion.

“What do you mean?” he said, scratching his jaw. “You said you weren’t needed.”

“I felt like I wasn’t being useful. I tried to quit. They tried really hard to keep me there. Now, they’re constantly asking me to come back after everything.”

“They do know how to squeeze the last bit out of everyone,” he nodded. “Are you happy with where you are right now?”

“As in life?” You rolled your eyes thinking about it. “What does it look like?”

“I was worried the last time I saw you.” He sounded sincere.

“I know, I looked miserable.” Probably looked like the physical embodiment of a cry for help, too. “Can we not dwell on it, please? I’m better now. But now you—” You reach and tap on the middle of the table. “You look like you need to sleep for days.”

“That would be great,” he sighed.

You kept looking at the door but no one from work was coming in. “Why is no one coming, Leon?”

“They won’t, to be honest with you. I only invited you.”

Your back was then one with the chair. “Oh.”

“I should’ve let you know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind the quiet,” you smiled. And then you realized, he was doing the same thing you were doing, pushing anyone and anything away.

Him reaching out to you, this was his cry for help. Why you specifically, you didn’t know.

“You told me you lost a partner in Spain, were you close?”

To that, he dropped his chin and stared at his lap. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know him. We met under strange circumstances and ended up helping each other. I got the impression that he regretted a lot of things but wanted to believe people could change.”

“I believe people can change, for the better or worse,” you mumbled.

Your server came with your drinks. Leon didn’t waste a second and downed nearly half of his drink. “You tried to quit?” he asked.

“I did. I thought it was time for a little stability in my life. This is as far as I can get to it,” you said and took a sip of your drink which was the same one as Leon. It was strong.

“Stability. That’s unlikely in this job,” he scoffed, fingers tapping at his glass.

“Do you see it as impossible, Leon?” You desperately hoped he would say no, you needed to hear from someone that it wasn’t just a pipe dream.  

He seemed to be thinking for a slow moment. “I guess, for some people, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“For you it would?” you inquired.

“I once thought I would marry my first girlfriend. I was like what? Twenty, twenty-one? I was really stupid and in love. If twenty-one-year-old Leon saw this, he would be devastated,” he said and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can find someone who would understand what I do. It’s not like I can tell them. They’d be in danger because of me. I can’t ask them to trust me blindly. I wouldn’t want them to.”

“If someone was willing to accept you as you are, do you think..?”

“Who in their right mind would?” he groaned in exasperation.

“I would. But my situation is different, I have an understanding of what you do. I also can’t be in any more danger than I already am.” There was a beat of silence after you said that. The drink was definitely too much for you, you were sure. Your ears were burning hot, one hand coming up to cool one down with your nervous cold fingers, your eyes roamed the whole place. You chugged the remaining of your drink and wiped your mouth.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he bolted and looked at your abashed face as if he was in a contemporary art museum, trying to understand what the artist meant with their absurd piece.

Feeling self-conscious, you fixed your hair and babbled out, “Why did you get into this line of work in the first place?”

His back straightened, shoulders rolling back. “I was… recruited.” You didn’t quite understand how but remained from prodding any further. “I was the best candidate for what they wanted. An orphan who didn’t have anything to lose.”

It really wasn’t going well for you. You wanted to bang your head against the table and avoid looking at him completely but after what he had revealed to you, you couldn’t be any ruder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

If Cathy were to hear about this, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Good job honey, that’s one way to woo a man. She would’ve said it in that sarcastic tone which she infamously was a master of.

“No, it’s fine,” said Leon. “You could do so much better than me, though.”

Have you seen yourself, you wanted to exclaim.

Your nostrils were wide, trying to sober you up by hogging as much oxygen as possible, you tried to remain calm, you were feral however. “Why do you keep putting yourself down, Leon? You know, you could’ve called your friends today and they would’ve come running to you. You’re a great person, they don’t give a damn about how successful your mission was. They’re happy that you’re back, that’s all. They are your friends, not the alcohol.”  

He was dead silent, staring at his glass with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m sorry for overstepping but I saw how they were trying to look out for you at the dinner. There wasn’t even a glass of wine there, celebration my ass. Everybody can tell you’re not fine. I don’t know you that well but even I can tell. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthy. It’s self-destructive.”

He wiped his forehead. “You’re the one to talk.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hunnigan’s always talking about how you’re running away every time you see her. She has to drag you everywhere. She’s being nice to you, you could try appreciating that, you know? And you’re clearly stuck up on something, are you trying to repent for your sins or what?” He quite literally disarmed you with his icy stare.

“I’m not Catholic,” you retorted.

“Well, would you look at that. We’re more similar than I thought.” The smirk he had on was sardonic, the furthest from being friendly. You felt an urge to get up and never look back.

“Wrong,” you said as you crossed your arms. “I don’t expect alcohol to solve my problems.”

“Yeah, you’d rather run away from them. And that isn’t going well for you, is it?” He finished his drink and motioned for the server for another. “Also, stop being a hypocrite.”

“Excuse you?” you said with seething anger.

“Are you not trying to ‘get wasted beyond recognition’ right now, as you put it?” he sneered and pointed out your empty glass.

“That was one time, I usually don’t drink. And I’m not planning on drinking more.”

“Oh, did I ruin your fun?”

“Stop that,” you said through your gritted teeth. “Stop being mean. I’m not your friend. You don’t have to push me away. I don’t know why you invited me here. I can just get up and go, leave you with whatever you have up your ass that’s making you act like this. I’m only asking you to stop putting yourself down so much and you’re being all defensive. You know what, I don’t deserve this.” You got up from your chair, grabbing your jacket and purse.

He stood up quickly and tried to follow you. “Sit down, Leon. Your drink is coming.” You didn’t give him any chance to reply and threw the amount of cash that covered your single glass of alcohol on the table.

The walk from the noiseless bar to the nearest bus stop was not pleasant, to say the least. The air was biting cold, hitting your warm cheeks and making you shiver.

Leon only lost sight of you because he stopped to tip the server generously. He fucked up big time, he knew that. It was going to be a pain in the ass if you already jumped in a cab but he had hope that no vacant cab was passing the area on a Friday night.

He was stupid to think this would go smoothly. The last time he saw you, he was concerned about you. The way you’d casually admitted you were not fine was echoing in his mind. He wanted to see if you’d be there by the time he was back from duty. He admitted he was scared for you, for that woman who seemed so small during the funeral, for that woman who had a meltdown in her car in the middle of the day, barely hanging on.

He wanted to tell you today that maybe you should quit. But you had already crossed that bridge.

Maybe you wanted to help people, too. At least at the beginning. Now you wanted peace and quiet, because your life has been anything but. Unlike you, he gave up on that a while ago. He wanted to regard your daring words— I would— as being drunk, he really did.

Ada would never admit she’d want something like that to him, to anyone. Ada didn’t want a stable life, she would never live at a place longer than a month, work with someone more than twice. Even after all of their encounters, Leon still didn’t know what her actual motives were. Raccoon City, Spain, his last mission.

It was pitiful, the way his breath would hitch every time he saw a dark-haired woman wearing red out of the corner of his eye. His heart would pound in his ears for a quick second before he’d realize he was mistaken. He would allow himself, for a brief moment, that maybe it was Ada, here to see him. However, she was never the one to be sentimental. Her every action had a tangible intention that Leon could never guess.

But Leon knew she cared. Enough to save him every goddamn time he needed saving. Enough to ask him to come with her. If he was twenty-one, he would’ve chosen to tail behind her, ready to follow her wherever. Except he had changed, he was not naive anymore. He’d like to think he made the right choice by separating their ways back in Spain. He didn’t know if he was going to be used again.

He also didn’t know what would become of them. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to abandon the mission and ride off into the sunset with Ada yet a part of him wondered about their alternate universe in which he chose to follow her. What would have happened if he just hopped onto that helicopter with her? Where would she have taken him? Was she planning on greeting him properly after all those years? Was he ready to forgive her after Raccoon City?

Perhaps she would have dropped him off somewhere, with a phone number or an address, leaving him confused yet again. Maybe he would’ve reached out, met her in a different circumstance where they didn’t have to constantly run away from trouble. Maybe she’d be living in a small flat and then she’d ask him to come over. Maybe he’d continue to visit her, make himself familiar with her small space.

Except that was not feasible at all, since she was a fleeting kind of woman, just like all the moments they shared. Not there to stay. And none of these would happen, it would always be a different hotel room, different city, barring him from being constant in her life.

A puppy love, he used to think. Young, naive, credulous love. No, he realized, it got older and bigger, sicker. It was time to put it down, put it out of its misery.

He sprinted to the bus station, his hunch was right, you were sitting there, arms folded on your chest, alone. You looked up the moment you heard his footsteps. He left a few steps between you two and braced himself by putting his palms on his knees.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, his eyes were focused on your red nose. Probably from the cold, he convinced himself.

“What do you mean? You asked me to,” you grimaced.

“You said we’re not friends, so why did you come here?”

Your head turned opposite of Leon, resting your chin on your shoulder and hugging yourself tighter. “I wanted some company,” you grumbled, the collar of your jacket muffling your voice. “I think Hunnigan’s right and I might need it.”

“Sorry I’m not a decent one.” He took slow steps to sit next to you on the narrow bench of the bus stop, his shoulder grazing yours. That made you perk up at him.

“I’m sorry for the things I said earlier,” you said, holding his gaze.

“You said a lot of things.”

“Well, I’m sorry for all of them, I crossed a line.”

“Don’t be, I needed the scolding.”

“I didn’t mean to scold you.”

He knocked his knee to yours. “Do you always regret the things you say immediately after? I was an asshole, you got angry, rightfully so.”

“But I was the one who started it,” you pursed your lips.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not kids.”

“I, uh, called a taxi, should be here in a few minutes,” you said after a minute of silence.

“Okay, tell me something in the meantime.”

“What do you want to hear?”

His thumb caressed his brow, he was contemplating. “Would you consider marrying me?”

“What?”

“Would you marry me? If I asked?”

“No, I heard you the first time.” Your eyes took in every inch of his face, searching for a sign, anything that might explain this. “Leon, are you drunk?” 

“No, I’m nowhere near drunk. It takes more than one drink for me to get buzzed.” He crossed his arms, imitating you. “Think about it, we can both try to live calm and stable.”

Your face was contorted in confusion, still for a slight pause. “People don’t marry out of spite, Leon. They marry out of love.”

“Who said anything about spite?”

“You’re clearly angry at something or someone.”

“I am not.”

“This life you are living right now… isn’t quite what you planned, is it? Some things didn’t go according to plan and now you’re here, trying to steer the reins again. And you’re angry.”

“What are you, my therapist?” This time his comeback didn’t sound as if it was meant to hurt you, but to make the air between you lighter. “I guess I do resent some things, doctor.”  

You went along with his enactment. “Admitting is a huge step Leon, I appreciate the honesty.”

“Now you be honest,” he said, bouncing his leg in impatience. “Are you in a relationship? Am I being creepy by cornering you like this?”

“I’m not and I don’t feel cornered. If I did, I’d just get up and go. You just saw.”

He nodded, his lips in a thin line. “Experienced firsthand how you run away from your problems and I don’t mean it figuratively.”

You chuckled. “You are not a problem in my life.”

“Not a friend either.”

Your smile dropped. “I don’t think we know each other that well.”

He hummed, looking far away. “That’s probably your cab.” He got up, shaking off dust from his jeans. “Take my number before you get in and let me know when you make it home safe.”

You gave him your number but didn’t get to write your name in his contacts as the cab drew near. “Thanks for keeping me company, you didn’t need to run after me,” you said as you handed him his phone.

“We won’t dwell on it,” he winked as he opened the back door of the cab for you. “And think it over, okay?”

“What?”

“My proposal. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient.”

“Tell me one good thing that will be convenient.”

“Uh, okay. Here’s two for you,” he said and held up two fingers. “A better healthcare plan and tax benefits.”

You laughed and the driver seemed annoyed that you were still standing in front of the open door. “I should get going.”

“Text me when you get home,” he said when you finally got in the car.

You texted him again two weeks after his ridiculous proposal.

Hi, Leon. Do you remember what you asked me after the bar two weeks ago?

Hi. Yes I remember.

Were you being serious or should I pass it as tipsy nonsense?

There was no response from him for a few minutes and you had started biting your nails nervously.

I was being serious. I wasn’t tipsy.

You stared at his short text longer than it took him to reply. You had already made up your mind but it felt cheap telling him over a text. This was not the proper way of doing this. You also didn’t know how to convey this to him, so you resorted to a playful text.

Ask me properly and I’ll consider it.

I’ll ask you again properly over dinner next Friday? I know a good Italian place.

The next Friday, he kept his promise and said those four words in a fancy quiet Italian restaurant. You said yes.

“I have a request,” you said, swirling your wine before taking a sip. “I want a wedding dress, not like a gown or anything. Just a simple white dress.”

“Sure, I already have a suit that I can wear.”

Your heart tugged in your chest. The fact that you had to buy your wedding dress by yourself, no matter how simple you envisioned it to be, without Cathy by your side was making your ears ring, drowning out all the knife and fork clatter around you.

Here's my hand There's the itch But I'm not supposed to scratch

—Love Me More, Mitski

It’s four a.m. and you want to say you’ve actually seen it coming. Every time something good happens, its catastrophe follows eventually. Just like how Cathy’s mission was going so well until it wasn’t.

It’s four a.m. and the meal you’ve prepared for Leon has gone cold on the dining table. You thought he’d be hungry when he came back from mission, so you went out and bought ingredients, followed a recipe word for word, even made soup additionally just in case he didn’t feel like eating solid food after what his body’s been through. He said he’d be back at one a.m. and he hasn’t contacted you since. You’ve called and texted him numerous times but it was radio silence from him.

He had promised you, before you got married, that he would always let you know when he got back from a mission and he always did. He never once forgot because you were very serious about this, wanted to know as soon as possible that he was back safe.

It’s four a.m. and you feel like you’re going crazy, soaring into a heaving fit as each minute passes by.

The sound of his keys makes you clutch at your chest and before you even realize, your legs are walking you to the front door. He’s being quiet and you wait for him few steps behind the door. His steps are feather light, head bowed down to take off his shoes, he exhales a long breath as he places his backpack down.

He flinches when he sees your silhouette in the dark. “God, you scared me. I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“You didn’t text me,” your voice breaks, your hands are clutching at the sides of your pajama shirt like it’s a lifeline.

“I forgot.”

Your tears threaten to fall down and you’re grateful that it’s dark and he can’t see. You bite down your lip strong enough to make it bleed. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you didn’t need to stay up.”

It’s not like you chose to, you physically couldn’t lie down or eat anything when your mind went all haywire, creating the worst possible scenarios it could think of.

“I, um, made dinner.” You point to the table. “But it’s gone cold, I can heat it up. Don’t know if it will taste any good, though. Did you have any chance to eat something? I mean, if you ate dinner, it’s been hours and you’re probably hungry—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I also made soup, so it’s easier on the stomach. You’re tired, right? Just eat some soup and then go to sleep. I’ll heat that up and there’s also tea in the pantry, supposed to help you sleep. Oh, I filled up the bathtub, I’ll go drain it, the water’s gone cold and you probably want to have a hot shower—”

He cuts you off again by blurting out your name. “Hey, hey, slow down.” His calloused hands come up to hold your shoulders and you let out a small whimper of surprise, your chin dropping to your chest. “I don’t want anything, I’ll just sleep.”

You shrug and escape from his hold, so he doesn’t ask you why you’re trembling like a leaf. “But shower…” you manage to make out and point to the direction of his room.

“Yes, I’ll drain the tub and shower, you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” you say softly. He’s home, you repeat deliriously. He’s here, very much alive. The thought calms your nerves instantly.

He doesn’t turn on any of the lights while navigating his home in the dark. You crane your neck to watch his silhouette move to his room. He opts to turn on the bathroom light first. You listen to the water droplets as you put away the food you made for him in containers. He says something you can’t quite hear when he gets out of the shower.

“Did you say something, Leon?” you raise your voice slightly.

“Yeah, did you clean my room?”

“It was messy. Thought it’d be nice to see it tidy when you came back.”

He doesn’t reply right away and your head turns to his direction as if he can see you through the door.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to.”

You actually cleaned the whole house when he was away, not that he had the chance to see it.

You were aware from the very beginning that this was what you got yourself into. You and Leon never promised each other love. But why are you feeling like this now? Stupid question, really. Because things have changed, you’ve grown to love him and you’re afraid. You’re afraid that one day you’ll have to face the world without him by your side because he has become your anchor, holding you in place where you now call home. It’s nice having his warm hands on you, it’s nice coming home to him.

However, in moments like now it feels like you’re playing house, actors going their separate ways after the lights go out. It awfully feels like you’re standing in the middle of a dark stage, curtains closed so nobody can see what goes down behind the scenes.

You’re in front of his door, first aid kit in one hand, knocking. “Leon?” You know he’s not sleeping. He can’t sleep well after he comes back from his missions, his insomnia making it impossible for him.

The door cracks open and you slide past him before he can say anything, perching cross-legged on the side of his bed, placing the kit on your lap before propping his pillow against the bedpost so he can sit comfortably in front of you. “Let me have a look.” You pat on the bed. “And turn on the lamp, please.”

You can finally see him when he does. The first thing you see is the big purple bruise on his side because he’s only wearing his sweatpants. His hair is wet from the shower, hanging to his eyes, eyebags dark and prominent, one of his forearms is freshly bandaged. Despite all, he’s standing tall in front of you.

“They already patched me up,” he says, showing his bandage.

You take his hand and draw him near, making him sit on the bed with one leg dangling from the side. Half of his face is illuminated like this and you can see the cut on his jaw in its full glory. Your fingers begin to work quickly, cleaning the wound all the while he winces by closing his eyes. “Seems like they didn’t take a good look at you. What happened to your ribs?” you ask to distract him.

“Got kicked. They’re not broken.”

You put the band-aid on his jaw and search his eyes as they open. He blinks slowly at you, understanding that you want to hear more. “Hurts when I breathe but it should be gone in a few days, it’s not that bad.”

You take his unwrapped hand in yours, the skin of his knuckles is very red, it probably hurts when he flexes it. You grab the ice pack you remembered to bring with you and place it on top on his knuckles.

“Not there,” he mumbles. “Put in on my shoulder, it’s really sore.”

You place the pack on the shoulder he points. He tries to turn his head that way but his face contorts in pain and he gives up, exhaling a long sigh.

“Did you have them wrap it up?”

“No, can’t be bothered to rewrap it later.”

“That’s why you have me to do it for you,” you hum, adjusting the ice pack. You’re closer to him like this, able to smell his soap and shampoo from his body. You can make out the shape of his chapped lips and yours ache to kiss his pain away, except you are overheated with grievance.

His eyes bore into you, taking you in. There’s an unassuming hand on your bent knee, squeezing lightly. “Did I scare you?” he asks.

“You promised me,” you gripe to him, fumbling with your fingers on your lap after you place the first aid kit next to you. “You promised me that you’d let me know when you were back. Of course I was scared.”

His forehead falls onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair pressed to the side of your neck as the ice pack tumbles down his back onto the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says breathily.

He’s only called you by your name all this time, so this is new. And stomach lurching. Your cheek knocks the side of his head with your startled reaction.

“I have no excuse,” he murmurs. His palm on your knee slides up, leaving a burning sensation as it goes along your thigh, bypassing your hips and finding place on the curve of your waist.

“It’s okay,” you squeak when you feel his thumb caressing your ribs through your t-shirt.

You don’t remember ever sitting down with him, drawing lines about the nature of your relationship, lines that both of you never meant to cross, because you didn’t. You didn’t discuss anything about boundaries because at the time you were getting married, you didn’t know him much. Both of you assumed that it would naturally develop, silent agreements to come.

It was manageable before, now it confuses you to the point of ripping hair from your own head. There were times where you didn’t think twice about giving him a friendly hug, a pat on the back, a reassuring squeeze to his knee but after getting into bed with him, every action was testing the waters.

It wasn’t even a bed; it was the couch in the living room where you had countless dinners and conversations, the heart of the home, if you will. It felt shameful afterwards as if it happened in an open space, because it was quick and devoid of any intimacy, but it was in the confines of your own quiet home still.

You want to go back to the time when you were friends, and not what this was supposed to be. You want to go back to the time when you didn’t know how it felt to have him like that, when you didn’t know his touch would be so tantalizing, his lips unbearably addicting, his warmth conquering.

Initially, you thought you’d cross any bridge regarding him when you came across it, but there weren’t any bridges around to reach him to begin with. You quickly realized that he had burned them before you, for everyone. So, you painstakingly built each and every one of them with your bare hands, desperate to get to him. And him shaking them felt immensely unfair, all your hard work threatened to fall.

Your hand on his chest pushes him away ever so slightly before his hand drops from your waist. He hisses softly yet the action hurts you more than it hurts him. He yields to your touch, back leaning on his propped-up pillow, waiting for you to gather the scatter of your thoughts patiently.

“Stop confusing me, Leon.”

“What do you mean?”

“What am I to you exactly?”

“You’re my wife,” he says. Obviously.

“So why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“We never guaranteed that it would.”

“Yeah, I know that. All this time I thought maybe we were doing better, now I don’t know Leon, you’re confusing me. Either stop giving me hope or just say it outright.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That I’m just a fuck buddy to you.”

His jaw ticks, lips curl in disdain. “How shallow do you think I am?”

“I know we never established any boundaries between each other but it’s gotten to a point where I don’t know how I should act around you.”

His face stays stagnant. “You can’t be serious. Your boundaries were set from the beginning. You never had a place for me in your heart.”

Time seems to stop for you in that dire moment, Leon’s blue eyes serving you a new wrench of dismay. “When did I give off that impression?”

“Our first anniversary,” he clarifies hoarsely. “We ate pizza on the couch, remember?”

You do, you even remember the Disney movie he had rented as a cheeky nod to time you two first flirted. The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

“I always wonder why you said yes to my proposal in the first place,” he said after taking a bite from his pizza slice. It had been a year since getting married, Hunnigan was the one to point out to him. Apparently, she was proud of herself due to the fact that she was the one to introduce you two.

“I thought of Cathy and what she would’ve said to me,” you said, watching the animated Quasimodo sing his heart out to the town below him.

“What would she have said?”

“That it is ridiculous and maybe I should say yes.”

“So, you thought of what Cathy would’ve said to you getting married but not your family?”

You turned your head to him, ready to get vulnerable. “Cathy was family to me.”

“I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“Yeah, we met when we were roommates back in college. She urged me to change majors and follow her path.”

“To become an agent?”

“No, she was the one who always wanted to be a special agent. I didn’t know what to do at first but somehow ended up working alongside her.”

“What were you studying before?”

“I was studying to become a nurse. Kind of in my sister’s path, she’s a doctor.”

He scratched his nape, looking ashamed. “I believe I never asked that before, sorry about that.”

You elbowed his side after taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, you better be sorry for not knowing what your sister-in-law does for work.”

He rolled his eyes upon your teasing. “Were they supportive of you changing majors? Your family, I mean.”

“My family’s always been small. It’s just me and my mom and sister. Dad’s never been in the picture. He left when I was a few months old. My mom raised us herself. And yes, she would support anything I did. She loved Cathy because she would make me do things I’d never do myself.”

“Your mom sounds like a great person.”

“She was. She died four days before Cathy did.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he said, much more ashamed than before. You didn’t blame him, the first year of your marriage flew by really fast, with him on duty most of it. Forget sitting down like this to talk, you rarely got any chance to see him.

“Yeah, their deaths being so close fucked me up really bad. We were on mission. My mom was living with my sister then because she was sick. My sister didn’t tell me her condition was even worse than before.”

“Why?”

“Mom knew we were working on something big and begged my sister not to tell me. She thought she’d see me after I was done with the mission. I had a whole fight with my sister about it. I felt betrayed.”

“I think I would, too, in that situation.”

“I was so fucking unprofessional after that. I couldn’t keep on helping Cathy properly. And she—”

“It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head, meeting your gaze in the space between you two on the couch.

“I’m tired of hearing that,” you huffed.

“None of that is on you. It’s the truth.”

“It’s not. I knew the situation was going bad. Cathy tried to make me believe it was not. Somebody else had to be transferred to take my place instead. I insisted but I had to be taken out. That’s when we lost connection to her.”

“How did you know it was going bad?”

“I could tell from her voice. I know her better than I know myself. I failed to get her help. I should have never listened to her.”

“But you couldn’t do that, could you? She clearly gave you wrong intel. You can’t send back-up until—”

“I could’ve made it seem like she requested back-up. That would’ve saved her, exterminated the mission, but saved her. I’d have faced the consequences of my actions sooner or later. If I did that and saved her, she’d be mad at me for years but who cares as long as she’s safe and sound?”

“I get it. I’d also have someone mad at me if it meant they’d be safe.”

“In the end, she died for nothing. The cult she was infiltrating dispersed after they killed her, all fled to different countries. It’s harder to track them down now. They’re everywhere.”

“You follow through with it? It would be impossible to track down each mission.”

“Why do you think I’m in the archives? I have access to mission reports. They don’t think it is bioweapon related, so sometimes they let me see them.”

Esmeralda was dancing along people’s whistles, captivating every man in the square.

“You said Cathy died for nothing but you actually don’t want that to be true.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you said, “Obviously.”

“You’re loyal,” he remarked. “I’m sure she would’ve loved to see her mission completed. Do you ever think of working as an analyst again?”

“Nope.”

From his expression you could tell he wanted an explanation, so you gave him one, “I don’t want to see people get hurt anymore. It’s a dangerous job, you know it. Why are you asking me?”

“No offense, but then why did you agree to marry me knowing I do the same job? If you’re scared of losing someone this much—it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You sighed, having a hard time thinking where to even start. “You’re going to call me crazy.”

“I would never,” he said, half-jokingly.

“Okay, I really did think what Cathy would tell me to do. I always listened to her, the whole time we got to spend together. She told me what she wanted to do with her life, told me I looked depressed with what I was studying and maybe we should join an academy together. She was larger than life, lit up an entire room with her presence, never spoke ill of someone, liked to help people in any way she could. I’ve always been shy, so she went above and beyond to find me decent blind dates.”

“She sounds wonderful. She was also your matchmaker?”

“In a way, yes. Dragged me to parties with her so I could have some fun.” You gave Leon a smile, recalling Cathy and her antics in your mind, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Nothing sounds crazy so far,” he reassured you.

Finished with your pizza, you dusted off the crumbs into the box and lifted up your knees to sit cross-legged facing him. “I couldn’t keep someone interested in me for more than two dates.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he replied, his eyes traveling up and down.

“No, seriously. This one time, a guy left mid-date, told me he had a phone call, paid for the coffees and just left. I waited there for half an hour. It dawned on me when I couldn’t see his car outside. Didn’t call me after.”

Leon shrugged one shoulder. “His loss.”

You smacked his bicep playfully as a way of thanking him for his compliment. “I only went on these dates because Cathy thought it would be good for me. I had a few fights with my sister about Cathy and her influence on me. She thought I was like her puppet but I genuinely don’t think like that. I told you I knew Cathy like the back of my hand. It was the same for her. Never pushed me to do something I’d be uncomfortable with. Well, I’d feel awkward at times but it would be momentary, I’d learn so much in the long run.”

“That’s a very healthy way of looking at things. I’m still waiting for the part where you think I’d call you crazy.”

“I trusted her judgment because I knew she only wanted the best for me. She’d definitely try to set me up with you if we weren’t so busy all the time,” you said, lips curling into a roguish smile.

His eyebrows shot up, being brazen about it. “Oh, you’re saying I’d have her approval?”

Especially when you keep raking your hands through your hair like that, you wished to say. “Yes, you would.”

“Thank you, that means so much.”

“You didn’t even know her.”

“Well, she means so much to you, I feel honored that you think that way.”

A haze of grief washing over your heart, lungs expanding, you started, “I also… never mind.”

A comforting hand fell on you shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Now you have to say it, don’t leave me hangin'.”

“Here’s the crazy part,” you swallowed dryly. “Whenever I thought of my future, it was always with Cathy. I didn’t even think of getting married. I thought we’d retire together when the time came, she and Allison—her girlfriend—would live next to me. And if they ever had the chance, they’d marry and maybe have kids. I’d look after them like they were my own, be the best aunt. Isn’t it crazy, dreaming of looking after someone else’s kids and not yours? Sometimes I’d lay my head down and imagine myself in a little community, living next door to Cathy and her family, growing my own vegetable garden—though I don’t know the first thing about gardening but I’d learn! I would also grow pretty flowers and give them out to anyone who decided to come over. Go to the bakery in the morning, greet everyone on the way and grab my breakfast fresh out the oven. I’d get so fat! Eating baked goods every day, sounds like heaven to me.”

“Indeed.” With a fond smile on his face, he took of his hand from your shoulder and fully turned to you, bending one leg up on the cushions. “I don’t think I met an Allison at the funeral, was she there?”

“She was,” you said, remembering the painful conversation you had with her. “She arrived really early and left before anyone from work came.”

“What happened?” he asked, noticing you ripping skin off your fingers just like you had been doing during that day.

“I tried to talk to her. She told me I was a liar and walked out—” Leon interrupted your chain of thoughts by taking your hand, preventing you from damaging your fingers further. “I couldn’t keep my promise to her. It’s awful. I told her before the mission that it was going to be okay, we’d done this with Cathy many times and I’d make sure to keep her in one piece.”

Your other hand had a death grip on your knee, nails digging and leaving indents to keep yourself grounded. “They tortured Cathy while she was captive. She died because she refused to give them any information.”

Leon seemed like he didn’t want you to continue, placed your hand in his as though he was reading your palm and started to fidget with your gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Tell me more about that dream of yours. I bet you wouldn’t even install normal ceiling lights in your house. It’d just be little lamps everywhere.”

Giggling, you said, “Yeah! I’d be that auntie that collects little trinkets and displays them all around her house. I’d learn how to knit and make so many ugly sweaters for God knows anyone.”

“So, no partner living with you? Just you with your trinkets?”

“There’s so many types of love and I just didn’t see myself in a romantic one. It just happened that I never pictured myself alone. That’s it.”

His hands slipped away after your raw confession, broad back straightening, appearing tensed up. Yet again, you couldn’t make out what his expression meant.

Esmeralda was now singing a hymn, Quasimodo staring at her in admiration from the shadows.

“I talked so much today, now’s your turn. I feel embarrassed that you know my abysmal attempts at finding love. How about you, Leon? You got any embarrassing stories that you can tell?”

His answer was quick and mischievous, “Yeah, this one time this lady just got up and left me at the bar. In the middle of an argument.”

You pursed your lips and bumped on his knee on the cushions, restraining a laugh you know he’d get satisfaction out of. “Don’t piss me off, that wasn’t even a date.”

“I had a girlfriend when I was twenty-one, she broke up with me before I started working as a cop.”

“That’s so long ago and not that embarrassing if I’m being honest,” you sniffed at him.

“I already told you about how I thought I’d marry her. I really believed my first ever relationship would live to see its future.”

Offering him a new perspective, you explained, “Well, technically it did, it just wasn’t a bright one.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, turning to the TV, stretching before bending his arms behind his head. “Wait—you’re telling me I’m the only long-term guy you had?”

His late light-bulb moment pulled a chuckle out of you. “Turning it back to me again, okay. No, I did date a guy for nearly one year. And before you ask, he said I worked too much and wasn’t fun.”

Leon’s face scrunching as if he just ate something sour, he blurted out, “Where do you find these types of guys? Did Cathy set you up with this asshole?”

“No, actually, I found him myself.”

“Is he the one who made you think you’re not fun to be around?”

You were left stumped, unable to think of any answer.

“What? If he is, I disagree with him.”

“You only say that because I go along with your corny jokes.”

“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” he chimed sarcastically.

Quasimodo was saving Esmeralda from the burning stake, the sign that the movie was about to end.

“Your dream,” he cleared his throat. “I could just picture it like a happy ending to a Disney movie. You know, they all have happy endings. Besides, I don’t think you’re insane for wanting a happy, peaceful life.”

“What’s insane about it is that I even imagined myself dying before Cathy. Getting buried before I got to bury her. I’ve never thought I’d live the day she wouldn’t, yet here I am… I wrote an entire script for the rest of my life in my mind, that’s why I spiraled down and down and down when it was not possible to play it out anymore. So, I stopped. It wasn’t healthy for me to continue obsessing over my ruined happy ending. I decided to live in the present. Write as I live on. Be more like Cathy, hopefully.”

There was little beer left in his can but he raised it anyway. “In the loving memory of Cathy Donovan, then.”

“I don’t have any drink left,” you gasped, lifting your can. “Cathy, I’m so sorry, you deserve the fruitiest of Martinis.” If Cathy was there, she would’ve laughed like a hyena, found it hysterical that you managed to call her fruity given the context.

After the honorary toast, Leon leaned back and intertwined his hands on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen where Phoebus and Esmeralda were passionately kissing.

“The novel’s ending was not family friendly, I guess,” you mocked.

“I haven’t read it.”

 “If you’re planning on reading it, my lips are sealed.”

“Don’t know if I have the time. I don’t mind, tell me.”

“It’s painfully sad. Esmeralda gets hanged, Quasimodo pushes Frollo from the cathedral tower in grief and rage. That’s the moment he realizes he’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He also refuses to let go of Esmeralda, starves himself holding on to her dead body in her grave. Years later, an excavation group finds their intertwined skeletons and when they try to separate them, Quasimodo’s bones crumble to dust.”

“Now that’s vile.”

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart Baby, bang it up inside I'm not wearing my usual lipstick I thought maybe we would kiss tonight

Baby, though I've closed my eyes I know who you pretend I am I know who you pretend I am

—Washing Machine Heart, Mitski

“How would I know I’d end up here?” you ask him, voice shaking. “We didn’t promise each other anything, so I didn’t have any hope.”

You want nothing more than to ask him about the teddy bear keychain he has in desk drawer, why he holds onto it, ask whether you should be relieved that it no longer has a key attached to it.

There is that gut feeling, clawing at your churning stomach, that tells you he has someone. Someone else who knows him better than you, who is a better match to him, who makes him happier.

Someone he loves.

“But we had sex, it made me question everything and I’ve come to the conclusion that we were both lonely and weren’t thinking straight. You acted like it didn’t change anything, it almost made me go crazy. Please say something so I can finally understand, Leon,” you cry out.

“I don’t regret it,” he declares. “I don’t regret what we did. And I know how we started this marriage, I assumed it would always be the same after you told me your feelings.”  

“I admit I’m hard to be with.” Your head hangs to the side, brows furrowed. “It’s hard for me to trust someone as much as I trusted Cathy. I’m sorry it took two years for us to be candid with each other. I used to be laidback about who I slept around with before. Now, I don’t know, I think twice about how I should touch you, talk to you. I used to think romantic love was not for me, so I wasn’t worried when you proposed because you didn’t expect it. I thought it wasn’t for people like us.”

“But you are capable of love,” he emphasized. “I know you are. You’re so good to me all the time. You stay up all night worrying when I’m not home, cook food for me despite your hatred for it, remember the smallest things and help me out, talk to me when I can’t sleep. I can’t even repay you for any of it and you still continue to be good to me. See, you’re speaking in a way that’s making me think there’s a chance that you love me and I still can’t say it back.”

Your silent tears unsettle him, this is the first time you let him see you cry. He has heard it before, the soft sobs and small chokes at night when you didn’t know he was awake.

You sniffle, “I know you’re capable of it, too, Leon. If the reason you can’t say it back to me is what I think it is, you definitely are.”

You quickly wipe your tears with the back of your hand when he asks, “What do you mean?”

“There is someone, right? You love them.”

His silence speaks volumes and it becomes your acceptance.

“Don’t let this thing between us hamper it, okay? I’m fine with it. To be honest, I didn’t expect you to keep up the faithful husband act.”

“Jesus,” he howls. “Just how terrible do you think I am? This thing between us is our fucking marriage. Not some situationship. Although I can’t make you think otherwise because you refuse to. I’m only gonna say this once, okay? I respect you enough to not sleep around behind your back.”

“Thank you, Leon, but I’m saying it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” You take both of his hands, wanting to remember the feel of him. “You love someone else and it’s okay. You’re better off with them. Hopefully they’re better at love than I am.”

You take off your ring and place it in your palm, caressing it. “I know I probably shouldn’t be asking for this but I got so used to the weight of it on my finger. Can I have it as a keepsake?”

He grips your wrist tightly, grimacing. “What are you doing?”

“This is me letting you go.”

“No.” He shakes his head, voice thick. The way he places the ring on your finger again is a wretched overcompensation for not doing it before. You two didn’t have rings at the wedding and you were the one to place it on your own finger after purchasing them. “You’re running away,” he speaks in a hoarse croak. “Where will you go this time, hm?”

“I’ll resign and move close to my sister.”

His palms are cupping your jaw, fingertips in your hair. Him closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours is a way of saying I can love you if you give me time, I know I can.

“Stay,” he whispers, narrowing your whole world down to his warmth and you shudder from it. “Just tell me what you need.”

I need you to love me more, love enough to fill me up till there’s no crack left for me to write happy ever afters that will never come true. I need you to fill me full up, love enough to drown it out. Drown me out.

“Kiss me.”

“That I can do, honey.”

You know perfectly well that you’re selfish for wanting him like this. However, you yearn for the still of his hands on you, the irresistible feel of his skin on yours.

A kiss is placed on your temple, another one on your damp cheekbone, another on your jaw. Your eyes are closed the whole time he moves slow with his kisses. He grazes his nose beneath your ear, bringing you close to the brink of tears again. His hot breath is licking the other side of your face after, pecking the corner of your mouth.

“Scoot,” he says before gripping your waist and tipping you towards his torso. “My back is killing me like this.”

You’re afraid of hurting him with your weight but he insists, pulling you and placing you on his lap, getting you to straddle him, your thighs encasing his on either side. Your face a few inches above his, he tips his head back and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can see a gash on his shoulder that disappears down his back which you didn’t notice before and you become aware once again that this isn’t the right moment to ask him for this.

“Leon—”

He can tell you’re about to get off him and he shuts you up by pulling you in a crushing kiss, pressing your chest to his with arms around your back so you won’t get away. “Stay here, don’t run away from me,” he says between labored breaths. His fingertips dance on your sides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand. He can probably feel your heart thumping crazy against his chest.

You caress the indent on his chin with your pointer finger, leaning down to kiss it. Leon lets out a delicious sigh, hands feeling up the sides of your thighs.

“Why did you kiss me at the wedding? There was no one to see,” you finally ask.

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the side trying to remember it. “The officiant was there. And the photographer.”

You nod and his lips are on yours again, tender this time. He opts to place quick kisses over and over again when he’s done being gentle. A chuckle escapes you when his nose bumps yours.

Fingers drifting under your shirt, he scratches your back up and down with his blunt nails. Any inch of skin he comes across, he kisses. Earlobe, jaw, neck, shoulder peeking through shirt. One hand splaying his fingers on your back, middle finger in line with your spine, right between your shoulder blades, the other one comes up front, lifting the front hem of your shirt. “Take this off.”

He doesn’t move the hand on your back when you’re taking it off, eyes dropping down to meet the new exposed skin. But you feel too naked, even though he’s wearing the same amount of clothes as you. You hug him around his neck, careful not to hurt him, bare chests pressed together.

He clasps the tops of your arms, biting the inside of one bicep.

“Ouch.” You retreat. “Why did you do that?”

“Let me see you.” He tips you backwards after his hand comes up to your nape, your butt slides on his lap, making you sit right on his crotch. He lets out a content hum, not embarrassed of his half hard erection. You cling to his biceps although his hand on the back of your neck is securing you in place.

A kiss is planted to the base of your throat and then to each collarbone. The hand on the front cups the underside of your breast, goosebumps rising on your skin. A wet kiss on the valley of your breasts, his breath cooling it. A low moan from you when he takes a stiff nipple in his hot mouth, finally giving it some attention. He twirls his tongue around it, teasing, before licking it right.

Your hips move involuntarily, rubbing against him through clothes all the while he sucks, kisses, grazes teeth. A jolt of electricity travels down to your core when he switches sides, underwear clinging to your sticky folds. You keen into him, pushing your chest out when he begins to suck a bruise under your breast. Your fingers dig into his scalp, tugging on his damp strands.

You discern his knitted brows and inclined back before tapping his shoulder. “Leon, stop.”

He halts the moment he hears you. The sight of a string of spit connecting his lips to your chest is obscene. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re hurting. You should lay down,” you say while standing up.

His eyes never leaving you, he gets off the bed as well. He seizes you under your arms, picking you up with ease. “See, honey? I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” He doesn’t let you protest and nips at your bottom lip before sloppily kissing you, tongue claiming every crevice of your mouth.

“No, put me down!” you wail, kicking your feet in the air.

“Okay, okay,” he grins, setting you down on the floor. Your heated cheeks amusing him, he takes your hand and places it on the waistband of his sweatpants. “This is the only thing you need to worry about.”

You decide to be daring and slide your hand down, palming him through layers of clothing. “Fuck,” he huffs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours, big hands pawing at your backside, fondling your ass. Your hand slips past his briefs, touching him without any barriers.

“Oh, just like that,” he encourages you when you pick up a pace. His abs tightening, it doesn’t take long for him to fully get hard. “Ah, wait—”

“Hm?” You look up at him, just holding him in your palm.

“Need to get a condom, be right back.” He squeezes your ass one last time. “You better take everything off,” he teases before stepping away to get to the bathroom.

Second thoughts come rushing to your mind the time he’s undressing and grabbing a condom in the bathroom. Maybe, you shouldn’t do this. It’s only going to make it harder for the both of you. You admitted loving him and he wasn’t able to say it back. But he told you to stay, he needs you, wants what you’re able to give him. And you desperately need to give him all you have, mind and body, even if it means for a short time.

Because you know you will never be able to love like this again.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a packet of condom is thrown on the bed in front of you, hands gathering your hair on one shoulder to return messy kisses to your neck from the back.

Your back meets his pecs, his erection snug between your bare ass cheeks, you sigh softly when his fingers find their way to your clit, making your spine tingle. You hold on to his forearm, clawing at his veins as he gathers your wetness from your entrance, back to circling your bundle of nerves with now soaked fingers. His bandaged hand urges you to spread your legs more before finding place on your throat. He ruts his hips against your ass, breathing loudly while you whine out incoherent sounds.

He groans your name, drawing your attention up to his scrunched face. “You’re so good to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper as he drags two fingers all the way along your slit, pumping them inside. The way you stretch around his fingers distracts him from the rhythm of his hips, making him still. But you crave the friction, arch back your own hips to get him to move again. Your hand winds around and finds his aching hard dick, thumb stroking the precum all over his angry red tip. Your head rolls back over his shoulder and you want nothing more than to properly see.

“Leon, I’m close,” you moan and push his hand away. “I want to see you.”

“Anything you want, honey,” he pants in your ear, tip of his tongue tracing the shell of it.

You crawl to the middle of the bed, endowing him the sight of your glistening slit before laying down on your back, waiting for him to get on top of you. He parts your legs, taking a good look before smearing his tip on your folds, a mix of your wetness and his precum making it extra slippery.

“Please,” you manage to make out, one arm across your chest, another resting on his shoulder.

He rips your arm from your chest and pulls both your wrists above your head. “I said let me see you.”  

He doesn’t let you fuss, fucking up his cock against your clit, allowing himself the bare feel of you for a little while.

He kisses your pout away before retreating to roll the condom on. You hiss as his tip breaches your entrance, legs trying to close on instinct, but he’s laying between them. He gets you used to the feel of him inside before you nod for him to move, slowly at first. Once your back arches and your hips shift, he gets the message to piston his hips faster.

He searches for the right pace just by examining you, what your face does when he tries something new, how your back arches, by the sounds you make. Not too fast, not too slow, he eventually finds an angle you particularly like.

“Too good for me,” he chants whilst thrusting, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head. You notice the absence of his ring but you don’t worry about it because you know he leaves it on his desk when he’s away for a mission, not wanting to lose it.

Your legs hug him around his waist, heels pressing him into you deeper. “Yes, yes, yes…” You keep singing his name when you feel it building up inside.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he grunts, listening to the slaps of skin and your frantic cries of pleasure.

“Good ‘cause I’m so close.”

He takes that as a challenge, making sure you reach your high before him. He watches as you do, walls clenching down on his length, lips chasing his.

He’s cooing in your ear between your gasps, coaxing your bliss out of you. “I know, honey, I gotcha. You can let go.”

Your mouth opening in a silent moan as your orgasm ripples through you, hands trembling in his hold, legs trying to shut, your entire body quivering as you ride it out.

Irregular thrusts of his hips bouncing your breasts in front of him, he nestles his face between them, breathing in your scent. He noses the blossoming mark he left under there and moves slow, dragging it out as much as possible.

He sinks boneless on you, his weight feeling comforting rather than crushing. You embrace him as he softens out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He peels the condom off and lays on you for a while, head between your ribs, trying to catch his breath. You wipe away sweat from his temple, frowning.

“You’ll have to hop in the shower again.”

“Give me a few minutes,” he says, voice muffled and nasal. “And you’re coming with me, too.”

“Leon!” you shriek, playfully slapping his twitching bicep. “You shouldn’t tire yourself more.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was gonna ask you to wash my back.”

After a few minutes, you drag him in the shower, helping him soap his back. He stands under the hot rain when you’re cleaning yourself with his body wash, eyes and hands wandering, groping here and there. You smack his naughty hands each time, can’t help but giggle. However, he’s tired and sleepy, so he’s only playing.

You offer to change his sheets but he insists on doing it in the morning and tugs your arm to your room, preferring to sleep in your clean sheets. He nearly falls asleep as you blow-dry your hair, waiting for you in the bed.

As soon as you’re snuggled up to him, he tucks you to his chest, chin on your forehead. Soft sighs tickle the crown of your hair.

“Can I ask you a question?” he murmurs, barely audible.

Your pointer finger stops drawing circles on his pectoral muscle. “Mhm?”

“After your mom and Cathy passed away, how did you survive? There has to be a reason.”

“I actually planned to end it all after both funerals. I told myself to just get past that week. It’ll all be over in a week. But there’s my sister. She came with me to help with Cathy’s funeral. Forced me to eat anything she could cook while I lived on autopilot. She was washing my hair in the sink when I realized I can’t leave her behind. It’s just not fair. She has a wonderful husband but a husband doesn’t mean forever— I mean, look at what my mother got. A deadbeat husband who left her with two little kids. My sister doesn’t have any kids. Worst case scenario, her husband leaves her and—”

He retracts abruptly to search your face, hand on your cheek to steer you to him. “So, you wrote a script again. With a sad ending.”

“My sister is my only family left. I don’t want her to live unhappily.”

“Hey, I’m your family, too. Why are you talking like I’m not here?” He presses a long, soothing kiss to your lips. His fingers tip your chin up. “Look at me. What do you have in that mind of yours? What kind of script do you have for us?”

You lie. “I don’t have one.”

He smiles. “Good. Because we’ll write one as we go on.”

(a/n: a very short part 2 will be posted here in a few days, keep an eye out for that. ty for reading!)

PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)

[magicalbats]

Persist and Resist (Sunday x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7730

Warnings: afab!reader, handjob, cum eating, a pinch of femdom, canon typical Catholic guilt

A/N: Happy Valentine's everyone! I actually started writing this one in response to an ask I got back when I was working on last years kinktober but at some point in shuffling the text around from here to Google docs it seems Tumblr ate the initial message, which is a big bummer. I do, however, recall that the sender wanted to know what I liked about Sunday ... and the answer to that is clearly 7730 words long! lol Please enjoy the fic and if you're still around, anon ... this one is for you. ❤️

⭐

“Just relax,” you murmur, ignoring his startled gasp when you lean in from behind to rest your chin against his shoulder. “You’re always so stiff. That’s not good for your health, y’know.”

He hesitates, seems to think about it. Deciding how he should react. 

Forcing himself to draw a slow, carefully measured breath this time and further betraying his feelings on the matter, Sunday grits out a terse laugh. It’s soft and quiet. A barely there chuckle that carries with it only a very small fraction of the self assured confidence he’d displayed back on Penacony. 

You knew now that the real Sunday was not quite so sure of himself or as comfortable in his own skin as he’d first appeared, although he still tries very hard to hide that insecurity from you despite being far, far away from his old home. Like some sort of defense mechanism meant to protect and shield the delicate fragile parts of him from threat of the outside world, but it doesn’t work. Not when you were sitting so damn close to him as to feel every stuttering beat of his heart.

Pressed right up against his back like this, there’s not much he can keep from you, in fact. You’re keenly aware of even the most imperceptible shift in him, from the steady expansion of his lungs down to the loose flex of his hands where they’re resting across his lap. His body language makes it clear that he’s not accustomed to sharing such close proximity with another person and he’s not quite sure what to do with it. Right down to the molecular level it’s obvious he’s way out of his comfort zone given his subtle fidgeting, as if he just couldn’t help himself.

He was nervous. Maybe even a little scared, too.

“How interesting.” He finally murmurs. “I wasn’t aware you filled the important role of medical expert on board the Express. I’ll have to make note not to end up in need of your services again.”

Turning his head, Sunday pointedly looks elsewhere in your new room on the train, much preferring to focus on anything other than its owner at the moment. 

Situated above the party car and effectively cut off from the more heavily used common areas, the privacy here is absolute and precisely why you’d extended an invitation to him. There was more than enough room for you to share this space with the wayward traveler who, as far as you could tell, had been sleeping on the bench seats in the car below while you worked to get everything set up to your liking. But he never complained about it or tried to demand better accommodations even though you were certain it was a drastic downgrade in the comfortability he was used to. Like some self flagellating martyr, almost. 

The thought that he might be using the Express’ lack of additional rooms to further punish himself, convinced he deserved that or even less, was what ultimately swayed your decision to open your door to him. You wanted to show Sunday that there were still good things in this world that he could have, things he could enjoy and appreciate the same way he had in his previous life even if they weren’t quite as luxurious or posh as he was accustomed to. 

You also wanted to show him that you were willing to forgive him and, in the process, maybe even convince him to forgive himself. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No.” He insists, just a bit too tightly for it to be believable. “But I’ve seen you in action before. You’re not exactly what I’d call a gentle hand, and this … bedside manner is beyond me.”

That makes you smile into his shoulder as you wind your arms more securely around him, gently nudging Sunday back against your front. Still, he refuses to relent though. Staying perfectly motionless and straight as a board now, he almost feels like a statue made of solid granite sitting on the edge of the haphazardly made bed with you. Would have, were it not for the slightest hitch in his chest.

You realize in a distant, immaterial sort of way that his subconscious reaction was in response to your breasts pressing into his spine. He must like it then, even if he was loathe to say it. This was admittedly something you found to be charmingly cute in its guileless unassuming but it also made you want to tease him even more for it at the same time.

“That might be for the best,” You softly coo at him, keeping your voice light and barely more than a whisper as you trail a single hand higher up to pull at one of the clasps on his jacket. “I don’t have a medical license, after all.”

He sucks in another inhale, sharper this time. “You’re shameless.”

“That may be true, but I don’t see you trying to stop me.”

A strange little sound puffs out of him, something equally torn between indignation and fluster.

He either can’t or he won’t bring himself to reject your advances though, and he just sits there while you make careful work of unfastening his cozy coat. Idly, you wonder if this was the first time he’s ever had someone touching him like this. But he’s either making an attempt to be more polite than he otherwise would have been when someone was invading his personal bubble like this or, more likely, he considered it another facet of his penance. Further punishment for a sin he’s already been punished for twice over in your eyes. 

Sighing a quiet sound against his neck, you tentatively slip your hand into the inner layer of his shirt once you’ve got it nudged up enough to reach inside.

The skin along his stomach is enviously soft and smooth when you brush your fingers against it, and he outright jolts at that first hint of contact. Even then he still does not protest or try to pull away, though. His breathing deepens, coming slightly harder and faster now, but he makes no move to disengage from you, and you finally rouse yourself to tip your face up at him in question.

“I was only joking, Sunday. You can tell me if you don’t want me to keep going.”

“So you can hold it over my head later? I think not, Miss Stellaron. Against all odds, I still have some pride left in me.”

You frown at that. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You’re not a prisoner here and I’m not your jailer, so you’re free to make your own choices. I just want to help you.”

For a drawn out moment it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any kind of response from him, and you’re just a bit disappointed about that. But then, ever so slowly, he turns his head to cautiously glance back at you. The deeply embarrassed flush staining his cheekbones manages to surprise you, making your brows climb up to your hairline before you can suppress the reaction and stop it.

“I fail to see how this could be in any way helpful to me.” He intones, keeping his wing tucked forward across the lower half of his face so he can hide his mouth from your line of sight. Acting as a final barrier in case you were to decide to take that last inch from him. 

“I thought this might help you relax. You are pretty stiff, you know. I wasn’t joking about that.”

That defensively tucked in wing gives a brief flutter to make the soft feathers ruffle slightly, like a helpless bird trying to puff itself up to look bigger. It would have been adorable had his eyes not narrowed at you in warning in the same breath.

“I’ve never heard of such a method for relaxation. This isn’t how the Family does things.”

“But you’re not part of the Family anymore, are you? It’s okay to do things differently now.” Holding the air in your lungs, anticipating the coin drop, you slide the hand inside his shirt a little higher up to rub over a tiny nipple. “Let me show you, Sunday. Please?”

He twitches at the touch of your fingertips and quickly swings his attention back around to avoid having to look at you any longer. You can feel the shudder that runs through him but he still refuses to utter the one word that would make you back off. ‘Stop’. That’s all he needed to say. And you would, if he really wanted that. 

Something told you he didn’t completely hate what you were doing though, and it’s not like he’d ever admit to liking it anyway.

So you take your time softly petting over the petite bud, coaxing it to full stiffness which even then doesn’t leave much for you to play with. Every part of him was so slim and compact that as you feel over his chest you find yourself wondering if he was perhaps malnourished despite the life of relative luxury he’d lived back on Penacony. He shouldn’t have had to go without food, at the very least.

Deciding to find him a slice of cake in the kitchen after this, or at least a cookie, you redirect your hand to the opposite side of his chest to tease that nipple as well. Sunday stiffly arches against you in response, nudging his narrow chest up at the sensation even as he whimpers a quiet noise into the still room. He was slowly getting more and more fidgety, like he wasn’t quite sure how to react to what you were doing. How to process it or how to reconcile any of it in his mind. 

But a simple glance down at the front of him tells you everything you need to know without having to break the static charged silence by asking him how he was feeling. He wouldn’t have been honest with you anyway, of that you were certain, so there would have been no point in it.

The reluctant tent pushing up through his pants speaks for itself though, and this part of him could not lie. No matter how much he tried to fight it or wrestle it back under control, there was simply no subjugating the natural urges of his body. He couldn’t fully control it no matter how much he might want to and you can tell that bothers him a great deal in the way he softly seethes under his breath.

He was supposed to be disciplined and steadfast, not easily swayed by the compunctions of flesh and blood. And after rejecting it for so long, stuffing it down into a sealed box in the back of his mind where he wouldn’t have to look at it or think about it, he was now quickly succumbing to the full brunt of his neglected sensitivity. All you’ve done so far was tease his nipples a little bit and his cock was already needily flexing up into the placket of his slacks as if with a mind of its own. A hungry beast that couldn’t be contained no matter how hard its master might yank on the leash trying to bring it back to heel. 

It’s a little sad, in a way. You can’t help feeling sorry for him and all the simple pleasures he’s denied himself for the sake of exerting some amount of control over his own existence when he otherwise had none, but you also feel a sharp stab of arousal too. There were so many things you could teach him, if given half the chance. So many different avenues of pleasure and satisfaction, and intimacy that the two of you could explore together if he’d just allow himself the freedom to experience them for once in his life.

In truth you’d found Sunday quite interesting from the moment you first set eyes on him in front of the check-in counter of the Penacony Grand Hotel, like there was some sort of magnetic force at work urging you closer into his orbit. You knew now that at least part of that compulsion was a result of the Harmony and the other was his natural charisma as a Halovian. But there’s something else there too, something not so easily explained or written off.

He was not that much unlike you, was he? Someone who was so utterly bereft of a home to call his own in this vast cosmos that the nomadic existence of a star-bound wanderer was the only feasible option left to him. Everything from his identity right down to his own sister had been taken from him and he was alone now, save you and the rest of the Astral Express crew. You could understand that well enough even if you didn’t have any memories of what you’d lost before ending up here, just the same as he eventually had.

But you wanted to show him what having that freedom was really like, even if it was just a tiny glimpse of what awaited him on the other side now that he was free of Penacony’s slumbering birdcage.

“Do you trust me, Sunday?”

He tries to laugh again, fails miserably at it, and all that comes out is an odd little croak instead. “I don’t see that I have much of a choice in the matter, do I?”

“Of course you do.” 

Carefully sliding your hand out of his shirt, you reach down to tug at his belt buckle with deliberate slowness, giving him ample opportunity to protest. He just groans the most threadbare little sound you’ve ever heard though, and finally allows himself to reluctantly ease back into you. Still unfalteringly stiff and halting, but at least you were making progress.

With a brief clink and a rattle, his belt comes loose. You set your sights on his pants next, fumbling with the top button just as slowly so as not to spook or startle him. He really was like a defenseless bird caught in the sights of a much larger predator and unable to fly, to flee or to fight. He remains passive in your arms, luckily, but the building anticipation of what you were doing does make him start to squirm. He quickly forces himself to stop and be still though, merely watching what your hands are doing with his face tipped down towards his lap.

Soon enough you have those neatly pressed slacks open and you slip your fingers inside to feel along the band of his underwear before trailing even lower. You find his straining cock easily when it’s already stiff and rigidly pushing up from his body, giving it a gentle squeeze through the last layer of laughably thin cotton, and he responds with a tortured, half choked gasp.

“M - Miss Stellaron …”

You can hear the hoarse rattle in his voice as much as you feel it where you’re pressed right up against him like you are. At some point your breathing seems to have synced with his and you find yourself quietly panting right along with him as you work to nudge his pants down far enough to free him from them. 

Clearly picking up on your intent, Sunday hesitates to do it and he sways almost unsteadily between your arms before he at last manages to shyly angle his hips off the edge of the mattress to help you in your endeavor. He whimpers softly while he does it, and you consolingly coo at him as you press your face into the crook of his elegant neck to breathe deep the smell of him. Soap and clean linen, and a hint of downy fuzz that makes your head feel light with the impression of warmth. Perfect for cuddling. 

“Shh. Just relax for me. I promise I’ll take good care of you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Tipping forward, you place a tender kiss to his drooping wing and you’re delighted by the sensitive inhale he sucks in at the sensation of your lips brushing against the feathers. You’d always wondered if they were as delicately receptive as they looked and you were glad to have your answer even as you tug at his underwear to slide the band underneath his straining length.

And it immediately springs up into the air, already flushed and leaking as it weakly twitches in his lap as if in a desperate bid for attention. You’re amazed at not only how beautiful his cock is, average in size at best and yet so perfectly shaped as to look somehow beyond the pale of mere flesh, but also at how satiny soft and smooth it is. The flawless texture almost makes it look like something made of alabaster, and you eagerly reach around to take him in your hand.

“Oh!” His back dramatically arches against you, his hands flying up where they hesitate over yours for a harrowing moment before he allows himself to latch onto your wrists. It’s the first hint of reciprocity on his part, intentionally touching you instead of remaining a bystander as he had up until now, but you still hold your breath as you wait to see what he’ll do next.

If he was going to push you away this would be the time. The situation had clearly escalated beyond what could be excused as simple platonic affection and you brace for his reaction. His rejection. 

To your genuine surprise, however, Sunday just holds onto you by the wrists and weakly rolls his hips up in a shuddering, painfully stiff thrust. The motion sends his cock stuttering across your fingers before pulling back when he eases down to sit fully on the mattress again, wheezing softly at just that brief stimulation. You sorely wished you could see his face again but Sunday’s attention remains down and that fluttering wing stays an ever present screen for him to hide behind as well. 

No matter though. You didn’t really have need for visual cues when you could feel everything in stunning high definition through the point of contact between his body and yours. 

Closing your fist tighter around his cock, you gently begin to pump him, hand dragging from the base where ticklishly coarse hairs tease your knuckles straight up to the tip to make his foreskin bunch over the head. You can hear the sticky wet click of precum but it’s quickly lost under the harsh, frazzled gasp he raggedly pulls in. And it almost manages to surprise you, how sensitive he really is and how vigorously he twitches at your ministrations. There was some part of you that hadn’t been sure if he was even able to put on such an animated display, thinking he’d fight tooth and nail to keep up that implacable facade no matter what manner of duress he was made to endure. 

That is not what happens though. 

Instead he suddenly comes alive, unable to stop himself from full on shuddering and twisting his narrow hips against your hold. Hissing an overwrought sound into the otherwise still and silent room, he clutches at your arms in such a tight deathgrip that the leather of his gloves softly creaks. Not to stop you or to push you away, you dully realize when he groans your name like a plea. But because it felt good and it overwhelmed him, and he needed to hold onto something or risk shattering into a million pieces right then and there. 

Stealing another quick, almost giddy look down at the cock gripped in your fist, you don’t think that’s going to help him or stop the inevitable though. He’s flushed pink and raw from nothing more than just a few brief pumps of your hand, and you can feel the intense throb of him pulsing under your fingers. Not only was he going to cum quick and hard, considering how fiercely he shakes for you, but it was also going to take an embarrassing lack of effort on your part to get him there. 

“Oh, Sunny. Are you enjoying yourself now?” You purr into his shoulder, delighted at how abruptly he’d changed his songbird’s tune. From proud and immovable to a writhing, pathetically whimpering mess in just the blink of an eye. And all it had taken was the firm hold of your hand on him. It was in many ways astounding. “I always knew you had it in you.”

“I told you — nnghn! Not to … not to call me that.” 

Humming a low sound of agreement, you slowly drag your hand back down the length of him to peel away his foreskin in a tortuously stilted motion. Another sticky click hits your ears and he grunts a harried noise of distress when the cool air wafts against his exposed glans unimpeded, making him judder wildly in response. But you keep him held tightly against you even when his back dramatically bows, using your anchoring arm wrapped around his flexing stomach to keep Sunday pressed into you while the opposite hand gives his base a pinched squeeze to stave off his release. It wouldn’t hold it back for long but you were happy with even just those few extra seconds you’re given to admire him. 

And admire him you do. He’s sticky with an excess of eager, dribbling precum that coats the glistening head in a filmy sheen, inviting you to reach out and rub him there. You knew that would undo him in alarmingly short order though, so you hold off for the moment. Rather, you gently smooth your touch down to caress over his balls and wrap your fingers around their delicate weight, cradling them in the palm of your hand. 

Surprising you a great deal, Sunday outright yelps at the sensation and jolts as if you’d just electrocuted him despite how careful you’d been in handling his testes. Slim chest heaving on an uncontrollable, stuttering rhythm, he heavily leans back into you and tips his head to keen up at the ceiling. The sound itself as much as the volume of it makes your heart leap into your throat where it threatens to suffocate you. He was getting much too loud, wasn’t he?  

Your thoughts immediately flash upon the idea that someone might be just downstairs in the party car but you aren’t sure how well sound travels between the two floors, and that makes you nervous. Would they be able to hear him clearly and figure out what was happening just over their heads, or would it only seem like muffled and distant noise? Hell, even if one of your other crewmates wasn’t down there Shush almost certainly was. That damned robot hardly ever moved from behind the polished bar unless it was to pester someone with its awful jokes. What would it even say about the things it could hear going on up in your room? 

Quickly deciding you really didn’t want to test fate like that, you unlock your arm from around his middle and reach up to lightly palm over the graceful line of his throat instead. His Adam’s apple bobs thickly under your hand with the rough inhale he pulls in, swaying between your thighs when he turns his head to blink at you as if he were drunk and seeing double. But at least it looked like you had his attention again. 

“You need to watch your volume. If someone hears us, that's going to make having breakfast together way more awkward than I’d like.” You warn him, keeping your voice gentle and soft. For someone who’d acted with such overwhelming confidence on his home turf he’d quickly proven himself skittish and easy to fluster once you got your hands on him. You didn’t want to scare him off after all the effort you’d had to put in just to get this far. 

“I … I’m sorry.” He mutters with no shortage of Herculean effort. Gone are the impeccable manners and lofty words of the head of the Oak Family, and in their place there was now only a raw vulnerability you hadn’t expected to see in him. “It seems I’ve — forgotten myself. How embarrassing. I - I’ve never …”

“Been touched like this?” You supply, giving his balls a featherlight palpitation for emphasis. 

It’s enough to make Sunday hiss through tightly clenched teeth though, squeezing his eyes shut against the sensation as he turns his head away. “Yes. I mean n - no. This is my … first time.” 

That makes you smile. “I can tell. You’re so sensitive, Sunny. Haven’t you ever thought to touch yourself before?” 

His little wings flutter in response, flapping an irritable rhythm that makes the feathers softly smack against your face as if to bat you away. It’s hard to say if he was offended that you would even think to ask that of him in the first place or if it was because you’d used that insufferable nickname again but either way his reaction makes you laugh. 

Yes, there were a great many avenues of mischief the two of you could get into. It would be fun exploring them together, and this was only the first activity on a very long list of things you wanted to introduce him to. It was a bit out of order but maybe you could try kissing next. 

Your own excitement grows at the thought, and you eagerly swing your attention back around to Sunday’s lap. Giving his balls one last, gentle squeeze, you curl your hand upward so you can wrap it around his shaft and feel that silken skin under your fingers again. The seething noise he makes sounds suspiciously like that of a tea kettle getting close to boiling but he makes a valid attempt to keep his voice in check when you offer that rigid length another slow, savory tug. 

Unfortunately he quickly loses hold of that threadbare control as you reach the glans and the drag of your fist makes his foreskin slide up to bunch over the fleshy slit. The sensation seems to nearly bowl him over and he judders helplessly, squawking an oversensitized sound. Even with the threat of discovery an ever present danger, you still can’t quite stop yourself from grinning at his decidedly innocent, unassuming reaction. 

“Oh, Sunday … what are we going to do if someone comes knocking on the door because they heard you? Something tells me that look on your face would give us away no matter how we tried to explain ourselves.” 

He full on whimpers at that, sounding sad and deeply ashamed in at the implication of guilt. It’s clearly getting harder for him to maintain his usual cool the longer your hands are on him though, and you realize you’re going to have to do something to help him out. He was much too sensitive, too easily overwhelmed to roll the dice in this particular situation when getting caught together could mean the end of everything. 

Licking your lips, you momentarily consider choking him just enough to cut off his air supply and make it impossible for him to cry out. Your fingers idly flex around the bobbing curve of his throat at the thought. Although it’s certainly a tempting idea you ultimately think better of it, sliding your hand higher up to brush over his jaw instead. 

Finding Sunday’s mouth, you slide your palm over it and press down firmly to elicit a startled yet blissfully muffled sound from him. He jolts and lurches in your hold, as if only just now realizing the true scope of the danger he was in, but it’s much too late. 

Readjusting your hold on his cock in the other hand, you firmly drag your fist down and then back up, settling into a steady rhythm that continuously works the foreskin over his receptive glans. Back and forth, back and forth, up and down; rubbing, sliding, sticky slick clicking in your ears. And Sunday outright shrieks behind your fingers, twisting and tossing his head like a wild animal caught in a trap. His belt rattles softly where it’s spread open across his thighs, still twisted up in his pants, and his wings slap a furious beat that has you turning your face into his shoulder to avoid the full brunt of his ratcheting alarm. 

He’s hard to keep ahold of like this, especially when he digs his heels into the floor and tries to wrench himself free, but your physical strength proves greater. Despite being a man and in spite of having a few inches on you in height, he just isn’t equipped to fight you off. Not when you’ve got his cock in one hand, stroking it with the continuous glide of your palm over all of that sinfully smooth flesh, and the halfhearted way he shoves at your arms quickly morphs into desperate grabbing instead. 

Blindly, he latches onto you; your thighs where they bracket his shuddering hips, the bend of your arm, so he can squeeze tight and hold on for dear life. His muffled sounds of pleasure turn dazed and intoxicated as he rigidly slumps against you at last. And when he tips his head back to rest along your shoulder, tiny wings still fluttering helplessly but starting to weaken and droop, you dare to lift your face to look at him. 

Wrecked is the only word that immediately comes to mind. His usually perfectly styled hair is tousled and sweat damp where it sticks to his skin in a few places. Cheeks so hot with color you know he’d be warm to the touch. It’s the far-away glisten in his golden eyes, once so sharp and pointed, now distant and too heavy to keep fully open anymore, that really seals the deal though. Sunday’s higher functioning mind may still have been fighting against it but his body was singing like a deftly plucked chord while the violently crashing waves of pleasure slam into him with every slide of your fist. 

Feeling devious and a little too eager to stop yourself, you take advantage of his draining will to fight it and adjust your hand over his mouth so you can plunge two of the fingers inside. He squawks a decidedly undignified sound at the sudden intrusion but even his attempt to turn his head away is half hearted at best. Only somewhat reluctantly does he allow you to probe at his squirming tongue, feeling the perfect line of his teeth scrape over your knuckles when you reach back just far enough to make him gag. 

The compulsion is an odd one, you understand that much, but it’s as if your own pounding excitement won’t be satisfied until you’ve thoroughly torn down every one of his mile wide defenses. You needed to leave him debauched and utterly disillusioned from his old role, his previous identity, or this wasn’t going to accomplish what it was supposed to. How else could he be expected to move on and undertake the journey ahead of him if he was still clinging to his old ways and holding himself to the same standards as before? 

Sunday needed to see that despite his once high-minded ideals he was still just human, that his flesh and blood body was not some great sin for him to reject or punish. That he didn’t need to self sacrifice and martyr himself just for his life to have meaning. You wanted him to understand that it’s okay to be a little messy sometimes, and there’s nothing wrong with letting go of his almost fanatically held control. 

So it is with a great deal of pleasure that you keep his jaw wedged open with your fingers, carefully moving them back and forth over his tongue while he whimpers and whines so sweetly for you. It doesn’t take long for the excess of saliva to build up and dribble out at the corners of his lips, his spine dramatically flexing when he feels that first unseemly rivulet run down his jaw. His mouth works futilely around your digits, alternating between trying to spit them out or to somehow swallow around them but it doesn’t work. The drool just keeps coming, slowly bubbling out to track sticky paths down his face. 

You even catch a glimpse of shuddering moisture wetting his lash lines but you politely look away despite the eager jump in your pulse at the sight of those tears. It would have been all too easy for you to tease him for them, really lean into the humiliation he was probably feeling, but that was not your goal here. Not this time, at least. 

Instead you focus your attention back on the hand wrapped around his cock. Your ministrations had slowed to a stop while you were stuffing his mouth full and now you can see the length of him, flushed a pretty pink that almost matches his face, flexing needily against your hold. He was leaking enough precum to smooth the glide of your next upward stroke, watching in fascinated wonder as the fleshy hood of his foreskin comes up with another soft click to make the clear discharge slowly ooze down the sides of his shaft. 

His hips wildly buck and he wails a garbled noise as he needily arches up off the bed, jutting his pelvis out as if in desperate supplication for more. Both of his hands have latched onto your thighs now and he squeezes them tight enough to hurt. But you give him what he wants, what he so clearly needs, pumping your fist up and down the length of him on a steady, energetic rhythm. 

Sunday freezes like that, poised with his back bowed and his body flexed away from the mattress. Distantly, you realize that he seems to have stopped breathing altogether, holding the air in his aching lungs while the rest of him stiffly shudders and twitches steadily closer to the edge of oblivion. He was beautiful like this, like something out of a tawdry, lurid painting of some ethereal being from legend or myth. 

“Oh, Sunday,” You coo at him, so soft and gentle. Coaxing him ever towards his own ruination. “Are you going to cum for me?” 

Wailing a frazzled sound of distress around your spit soaked fingers, he gives his head the barest shake as if to deny the simple reality of what was happening. Unfortunately his own body betrays him almost instantly, and you stare in rapt fascination when his narrow hips stiffly lock up before nudging forward in a reluctant thrust. He’s holding himself far too unrelentingly to execute the full range of motion but it’s enough to have him fucking into your hand in painful, tortuously slow increments. 

He just can’t seem to help himself or smother the urge completely, even when the rolling grind of his pelvis was clearly something foreign to him. But it’s instinctive and hard coded, muscle memory carved into the very atoms of his body more than anything else. And you can see the musculature in his slim thighs trembling fiercely, the flex of his stomach dramatic while he wheezes and gasps his pleasure into the otherwise still air. You knew your fingers weren’t doing as sufficient a job at muffling him as your palm would have, but you can’t quite bring yourself to move or even care very much about that right now. 

Especially not when he gives one final, stuttering thrust into the squeeze of your hand and his cock positively erupts in a sudden spray of white. Creamy and thick, it shoots up into the air on what you would consider an impressive arc before splattering across his front. A second jet quickly follows the first, and then a third, while Sunday all but sobs through his orgasm, wetly choking on it even as he gradually sinks back down to the bed in a drained heap of splayed limbs. 

The eager pulse along his length quickly slows, oozing yet more of that clear discharge to dribble down the length of his shaft in sticky tracks before at last subsiding completely. He’s already a complete mess with various bodily fluids coating his skin but you still give him one final squeeze and drag your hand up to draw the last little bit of his release out of his flagging cock. He seethes a delirious sound in response, head lolling back in doped out bliss while he tries to even out his breathing again to no avail. 

“How was that?” You prod, smiling to yourself as you withdraw your fingers from his mouth. A sticky wad of saliva follows after you, catching on his bottom lip, and you brush your thumb up to helpfully wipe it away, ignoring the mirthless, gasping laugh he rattles out. “It looked like you enjoyed it to me. Was that really your first orgasm?”

Somewhat awkwardly clearing his no doubt dry and scratchy throat, Sunday pointedly turns his head to look elsewhere. Still shy and reticent to openly show any of his emotions, but he certainly felt more relaxed in your arms than he had before. “I wouldn’t have any reason to lie about that, would I? Or do you take me for some kind of shameless masochist?” 

Allowing a brief giggle to slip out, you lean further into him so you can find his neck and deliver a soft peck to the still thrumming pulse under his skin. Sucking in a deeply flustered inhale, he snaps his attention back around to look at you with wide, startled eyes. That makes you laugh too, much to his pouting confusion. 

“What?” He demands at last. 

“Nothing. I was just thinking how cute you really are, that’s all.” 

His brows shoot up almost too fast for you to track the motion. “Cute? M - me? But I don’t —“

“It’s alright, Sunday. Just go with the flow. You feel pretty good right now, don’t you?” Grinning at the uncertainty that flashes across his face, you lower your chin to rest against his shoulder, much like how you’d first started. Realistically only a few minutes had passed but it felt like an entire lifetime had come and gone, and yet you were still right back to this again. 

In the following silence while Sunday chews on that and mulls it over, you rove your attention down to inspect the damage you’d caused. Luckily his coat had been more or less out of the way where you’d spread it open earlier, and it looked like the quickly cooling evidence of this sneaky tryst had mostly landed in harmless flecks across the darker inner shirt underneath. That was a small relief, if you were being honest. You didn’t even want to think about all the fussing he’d do if you stained his white jacket like that. 

“Well,” he says at last, rousing you from your thoughts. “While I still think your methods are unscrupulous and incredibly underhanded … I suppose I still owe you my thanks. I do indeed feel more at ease than I did before. Now if you’ll excuse me —“ 

Quickly looping your arms around his middle when he makes a move to stand up, you yank him back against you with another laugh. “Nuh-uh. We’re not done yet, Sunny. I need to help you clean up that mess first.” 

Choking on a protest, he reaches down to shove at your arms but you don’t budge, pointedly nuzzling into him from behind as if to prove that he wasn’t going anywhere until you decided to let him go. After another brief moment of cursory struggle, he finally gives up and slumps against you with a terse click of his tongue. 

“Really, is this truly necessary?” He grumbles under his breath, lifting a hand to subconsciously wipe the remaining spit off his chin with an air of distaste. “Haven’t you gotten what you wanted out of me already? I'd think you would be satisfied by now, Miss Stellaron.” 

You hum a sly sound at that, coquettishly walking two of your fingers up the front of his shirt to one of the bigger globs of milky white bleeding into the material. He goes still against you, mouth dropping open in what could only be abject shock when you swipe one of the digits through the mess before lifting it up to your face. 

Looking appropriately scandalized now, Sunday tracks the motion with wide, horrified eyes. “Wh - what are you doing? That’s —“ 

Popping your cum coated fingertip into your mouth earns you a strangled gasp and he tries to reel back from you as if in disgust. But you keep your arm locked around his middle, holding him firmly in place while you suck the digit clean. Sunday’s wings flutter an anxious beat and tuck forward to curl defensively over the lower half of his face but it does very little to hide the furious blush staining his cheeks. He looked even more like a ripe cherry ready to be plucked than when you’d been holding his cock in your hand. 

“It’s nothing to be so embarrassed about.” You tell him candidly when you slide your finger out and reach back down to swipe it through the sticky fluid on his shirt again. “You don’t taste bad, if that’s what you’re thinking. I like how you feel in my mouth.” 

His eyes nervously darting from side to side, up and down, anywhere but directly at you, he tries to speak, croaks, and then awkwardly clears his throat again. “But - but that’s … unhygienic, isn’t it? That came out of my … my - -“ 

Softly laughing at how dangerously close he seems to fainting dead away like some sort of swooning maiden in an old movie, you catch a clinging glob of his spend and lift it up towards his face this time. “It’s fine, I promise. You taste good, Sunday. I wouldn’t lie to you. Here, try it for yourself?” 

He makes a face at that, reminding you of a kid that doesn’t want to take his medicine, but at your gentle prodding he slowly lowers his wings. The drooping feathers brush against your curled fingers just so, almost making you tremble at their light touch as you watch him differentially drop his gaze. Submissive and pliable, a clear sign of his bending to your will. 

Your earlier arousal flares back to life with a vengeance, making you feel uncomfortably warm and damp between the legs. Holding the air in your lungs, you nudge your hand closer and he obediently parts his lips for you with a tiny, shuddering whimper. Eyes slipping shut when you slide into his mouth again so you can drag your fingertip across his tongue and smear the salty discharge, making sure he got a good taste of it, he issues a faltering breath that puffs against your knuckles. 

“See? Not so terrible, is it?” You murmur, your voice drawling at a lower octave than usual. Watching him come to terms with his own body was almost as distracting as the need pulsing in your loins, demanding attention and relief in equal measure. You wanted him. More of him. All of him. 

But would he have you? 

Groaning a threadbare little sound, Sunday flutters his lashes and cautiously opens them to peer over at you. For a drawn out moment the two of you just stare at one another, gazes locked and searching. Questioning. Begging. 

And then, ever so sweetly, he closes his mouth and gives your finger an experimental suck, swallowing down the evidence of your illicit activities. A stuttering exhale escapes him as you slowly withdraw your hand, giving him just enough space to breathe for a second. You wanted him to decide for himself how he wanted to proceed, what his next move should be. 

Because what you’d said earlier was the truth. You were not his jailer, nor were you going to willingly facilitate that self flagellating streak of his either. If he wanted to come to you it would be in mutual pleasure and enjoyment, as equals with a vested interest in each other's happiness. Not as punishment or penance for something you’d already decided to forgive him for. 

“M - Miss Stellaron, I …” 

The way his wings start to shyly curl inward again, wanting to hide behind them, brings another smile to your face. He really was too cute like this. “What is it, Sunny?” 

He sucks in a mildly bothered breath at that. “I told you not to — never mind. It doesn’t really matter, I suppose. And you were right. It wasn’t terrible. In all honesty, nothing you’ve done today was … entirely disagreeable in my eyes. So if you’d like to … I mean, if it pleases you we could …”

“Keep going?” You helpfully offer up, making his expression pinch in obvious embarrassment. 

“W - well, should you insist I … I guess I wouldn’t have any complaints about that. But only if you want to. I don’t care either way.” 

“Sure you don’t.” Practically grinning from ear to ear now, you place your hand against his shoulder and push to get him turned around. He still refuses to look directly at you, evidently finding the pattern on your bedspread far more interesting in that moment, but he doesn’t change his mind or try to pull away when you lean into him. 

Tipping your head so you can dip into the space between his nervously fluttering wings, you find Sunday’s mouth and kiss him. Tentatively at first to see how he’ll react, but when all he does is whimper a flustered sound against your lips you press harder, letting your hunger for him dictate your actions. His hands carefully come up to slide around your neck while his wings slowly fall open, letting you in as he holds you against him, and you feel like you just might burst. 

To be wanted by someone like him felt like a blessing and a curse all wrapped up in one. By initiating this had you only sped up his ruination from perfect and holy to mere mortal, or had you just engineered your own downfall in the same breath? 

You’d find out soon enough.

⭐

Cross posted: here

[takumiraine]

Once Upon a Time chapter 9

Danny is still going through it, but it gets better I promise.

Taku note: jesus fuck putting the links in on these ones was a beast. I actually had to LOG IN to tumblr on my COMPUTER. ick.

<first> <prev> <next>

There is some texting abbreviations here. The abbreviations are: B, meaning Bruce, obviously. It is saved as just ‘B’ in his phone. R, meaning Replacement which is Tim. Tim is saved as Replacement. DB is Damian, saved as Demon Brat. D, is Dick, and is just saved as an eggplant emoji in Jason’s phone. This may or may not be relevant later.

—-

Okay. Okay. He needs a plan. He needs to think and form a plan. He needs a computer. He grabs a notebook. Scrambles around his upturned apartment until he finds a pen. Starts writing equations. The equations will solve to binary numbers. Each one a different letter. His brain is humming. He double checks his work. Triple checks it. Tears the page out.

Checks the work again.

He grabs a bit of his remaining cash. Climbs out onto his fire escape. Phases his hand through the glass to carefully reset the trap.

Move on silent feet, sticking to shadows. Hoodie on and hood over his head. Silent and fast. Alert. Find an Internet cafe. Buy an hour of computer time. Log onto the conspiracy site. Send a new private message.

Carefully type in the equations with shaking hands. Time ticks by so slowly and yet so fast. Equations come back to him. Solve. Translate. Read. Send more back. More frantic than before. They have to run. They have to hide. They cannot come here.

He received a picture of a chocolate bar in return.

They’re coming here. They’re coming. They’re coming and Danny can’t stop it. Can’t stop any of it.

He deletes the messages. Logs out of the website. Clears the history. Takes the paper. Leaves the building. Burns the paper to ash.

Hears a van. Pulls his hood further down over his head. Has to get to the observatory. That was the agreed upon meeting place. Has to get there. Has to hide.

Has to find a way to keep them safe. He’s out of practice. He doesn’t have the upper hand. He’s so scared. Scared for his friends. He gets to the observatory. It’s dark in there. Locked. Danny finds a ladder. Climbs. On the roof. The dome is solid. Cold. Damp. He sits in the shadow of the lens. He waits.

Time moved. Time stood still. Heavy cloud cover meant he couldn’t watch the passage of time in the moon and stars. That was Gotham. Last clear night or day was a long time ago. Danny couldn’t breathe.

Loud footsteps. He pressed himself deeper into the shadows.

“D…?” The voice was familiar. Danny peered out into the darkness, and saw two familiar faces.

“Tuck… Sam…” he croaked, voice raw like he had just spent hours Wailing.

“Hey Danny, good to see you.” Sam sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The Fenton Creep Stick laid across her lap. Tucker came to join them, sitting on his other side and rifling around in his backpack. Before Danny could process it, a couple high protein granola bars and a bottle of strawberry pedialyte was put on his lap.

“Eat. Panicking burns calories and you need them.” Tucker insisted, nudging him gently. Already Danny felt the panic subsiding, leaving him exhausted. He ate the protein bars mechanically, forcing himself to focus on the taste and the feel of them between his teeth. He needed the nutrients desperately. After the protein bars were eaten, Danny chilled the bottle of strawberry drink and popped the cap off, chugging it.

“Alright. Now that you’re sort of fed and hydrated, breathe. You know I love the whole dead vibe as much as the next girl, but you’re still half human.” Sam rubbed his leg with her free hand and Tucker rubbed his back. It was soothing and almost involuntarily he took a deep breath in and out, then another, and another. He felt his mind settle. When he could finally think clearly again, he pulled them both close in a hug.

“Ancients, I’ve missed you guys…”

“Us too man. Us too,” Tucker agreed, squeezing Danny back just as tightly.

“Now, not to turn you back onto a doom spiral, but what the hell happened?” Sam asked once they pulled back from the embrace.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. But I’ll tell you everything.” And Danny did. He started with getting enrolled in school, which they knew, because Tucker helped. Then with the cute guy that befriended him out of nowhere, and although he kept the name to himself, Sam clocked his crush almost immediately.

“It’s okay Danny, I have a radar for that. You were in love with me for how many years now?” She teased. “I am now able to spot a Danny-crush from a hundred yards.”

Tucker laughed with her and Danny groaned putting his head back in his hands. “I hate you so much sometimes…” he moaned.

“Yeah we love you too buddy.” Tucker patted him again. “Keep going with the story.”

He did. The tutoring, the meetings with red hood, and then finally, the week before and that evening. Again he left out the fact that he recognized Hood’s real identity. Sam and Tucker wouldn’t tell, but he couldn’t out another hero in good conscience. Even if they were fighting.

“Shit man.” Tucker scooted himself closer, while Sam did the same on his other side. “That was…”

“I’d rather fight Skulker and Technus together without my powers or a thermos…” he mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing his face into them.

“Okay. So here’s what we’re going to do. Tucker is going to make sure none of his trip lines have been tripped, I’m gonna make sure no creeps sneak up on us here. You’re gonna take a nap. You look like you’re about ready to drop dead again.” Danny nodded into his knees, and Tucker got out his pda and got to work.

Slowly, Danny’s breathing evened and slowed then stopped almost completely. Having his friends nearby meant he was safe. Safety meant sleep.

Jason was out looking. He started at Danny’s apartment, but he wasn’t answering, there was no sound of movement, the thermals were all ambient, so he moved on.

The longer he looked the more he realized, he barely knew anything about Danny. Danny was great at hedging around questions about himself. Turning the conversation back to Jason, or topics that were safe. The weather, the best places to get burgers, the best type of tree to climb, the best dangerous animal to be freed from the zoo. That last topic was courtesy of Damian but…

Then Jason remembered. They had been eating outside after dark. Danny had looked up at the sky and sighed, then pointed fries accusingly at Jason. “Your dad is like, richer than anyone else here right? He should really do something about all this smog. Seeing the stars at night is one of life’s great pleasures.”

“You could go to the observatory,” Jason had suggested, fairly used to Danny occasionally having ideas for Bruce’s money without any real interest in using it for himself. Always for the betterment of the city as a whole.

“That’s a last resort option. Nothing beats constellation spotting laying on a rooftop. You should be able to see Orion’s Belt over….” Danny looked up at the sky, head shifting as he oriented himself to north and then pointing “over there, somewhere.”

“Well, I’ll bring it up and see what WE has in the works for ecological initiatives.” Jason had said, taken in by how certain Danny was. He could have been bullshitting Jason, but sure enough when he looked it up later, Danny had the right idea, even if he was a few degrees off in his estimation.

Not having any better idea, Jason sped off towards the observatory.

Danny had been asleep for maybe an hour when the motorcycle was heard pulling up. Tucker turned off his modified PDA, the backlight in the screen would have given them away in a heartbeat.

Once the motorcycle turned off though, Sam woke up Danny. He woke with a silent start, looking around to see what had alarmed his friends. When he felt the familiar press of another halfa’s core he pressed a hand to each of their knees and wrote a small smiley face on them. Danny did not miss the way Sam’s grip on the creep stick tightened.

Jason didn’t immediately think anything of the observatory as he circled it. There were two hot spots on the roof that were likely just horny teenagers. He would make his loop and then head off. At least, that was the plan until he spotted the ice cold person shape between the two warmer ones.

Nobody ran that cold except Danny.

Jason stood at the base of the ladder and considered his options. He didn’t know who Danny was up there with. He didn’t know if Danny was in danger. Though the pit in him wasn’t any more riled up than it normally was. He didn’t know if Danny would throw his ass right off the roof. There wasn’t anything around here for him to grapnel onto if he was.

‘I did not know your trip into the pit made you a coward, Todd’ he could hear Damian taunt in his head.

Shaking the thought of his brother off, Jason climbed the ladder. The moment his helmet popped over the roof Danny’s eyes were fixed on him. “Go away J-Hood.”

Jason was momentarily surprised, Danny had obviously not expected him to come in costume, but corrected himself fairly flawlessly. Not outing him to the two people who were holding him protectively. Must be Sam and Tucker.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Are these your friends?” He asked, not moving any further up the ladder. Danny nodded, continuing to glare over his knees.

“Sam and Tucker. They knew me… before everything else.”

Jason nodded. Climbed up enough to get a good look. “I have a safe house nearby. Can we go there and talk?”

“Is more of your little guano group” Sam snickered at the name and Tucker gave Danny a fist bump, “going to hunt me down if I don’t?”

“No. But you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Danny looked between his friends for a minute, before slowly uncurling and standing, helping his friends up. “Fine.”

Once they were all on the ground they walked to the safe house, a couple blocks away. Once they were inside, Jason pulled off the helmet.

“Jason Todd. Also known as Red Hood.”

He noticed Sam give Danny a look, and he made a face back at her. Tucker rolled his eyes. “You talk to the Bat?” Danny asked, rather than confront his friend.

“Yeah. But that’s not the important part. After we talked tonight Oracle noticed something. The firewall was an automatic scoop. Anything related to your parents’….hobby got thrown into a…. Technological bucket. It’s why your messages never made it to the League.”

Danny took a step back, and Sam and Tucker automatically moved closer, supporting him. “You…. Heard the messages?”

“There was video too. Of… an attack.”

“Of course those assholes were filming it.” Sam tightened her grip on the creep stick as she spoke. Danny raised a shaking hand to his face, feeling for something. His eyes had gone unfocused.

Damn it. Jason took a step forward and Danny flinched, the air going cold. “Easy D.” Tucker soothed. “You’re in Gotham. We’re gonna go sit.” Sam and Tucker bullied Danny to the couch. Tucker sat next to him, while Sam stood in front of them protectively. When she caught Jason trying to look around her she snapped to get his attention.

“Hey, Danny needs some water. About 35 degrees if you have it that cold, cold as you have otherwise.” The snapping and hyper specific orders placed her in his memory. Samantha Manson. Daughter of the Amity Mansons. They attended a few Galas when she was younger. She was very insistent on her veganism even then.

Jason wasn’t about to argue with a woman holding a bat. If Sam was anything like his brothers, she knew how to use it even before the vigilante training.

He brought Danny water, tap with a couple of ice cubes, and passed it to Tucker, who was still talking quietly to Danny. Danny was nodding and occasionally giving a thin half smile, but was able to hold the glass on his own and sip from it.

“We need a plan.” Danny said after he finished drinking.

“Batman wants to talk to you.” Jason told him, which got Danny opening his mouth to protest.

“First,” Sam interrupted, looking at Danny then at Jason, “Tucker is going to do his checks, Danny is going to sleep, and we are going to wait.”

“I don’t need to sleep.” Danny crossed his arms, protesting.

“And Dash didn’t shove you in a locker at least once a week.” Tucker’s response was combined with an eye roll. “You look like you just went a dozen rounds with Skulker without your powers. You need pizza rolls and a nap.”

“You make me sound like I’m a kindergartener.”

“I think I have pizza rolls.” Jason interrupted the protest. “I’ll kill the lights, make the brat’s pizza rolls for you and you just lay there until they’re done.”

Danny scowled at Jason for hanging up on him but as Tucker slid off the couch onto the floor in front of him, Danny obediently laid down. As Jason pulled the bag out of the freezer and started the oven heating, he watched Danny’s breathing slow down and even out, then stop altogether.

Sam followed his gaze and took Danny’s sleeping form in quickly before peering at what Tucker was doing. Seeing that the people Danny knew the longest weren’t concerned about his lack of visible breathing, Jason settled a bit, texting the family chat.

From J: so I found Danny. But he has backup now. He managed to get in contact with his friends.

From B: Are you on your way?

From J: no. He was freaking out. Right now he’s asleep on the couch and I’m making pizza rolls.

From DB: Excuse me zombie child, those happen to be mine.

From J: Better learn to share now before you learn the hard way like Dickie, Timber and I did.

From B: Jason, please.

From J: what? It’s not a lie. He’s the fourth Robin that we know about.

From DB: I am the best. I will not be replaced.

From R: idk Dami, the new kid has black hair, blue eyes and a troubled past. He’s adoption bait. Hopefully he didn’t lie about his age and really is older than you.

From D: it’s never easy having to hand over the spandex and cape to a younger more dangerous Robin.

From DB: So you admit that I am the best.

From D: no I said you were younger and more dangerous than we were as Robin. Except for maybe Jay. He liked to bite criminals.

From J: hey! They were the idiots who put their hands near my face. I grew up hungry. You eat what you can.

From B: Before this gets more out of hand, Jason, do you know about when you will be arriving?

From J: probably going to leave here in 45 minutes to an hour. I will let you know.

Jason was going to take his time cooking those pizza rolls correctly. He wasn’t going to let them ooze out everywhere, then they would have to cool so when Danny inevitably wolfed them down he wouldn’t scorch his mouth. Allow for some wake up time…

Jason was completely, and understandably in his opinion, giving Danny as much time before the meet the family scene happened. The guy had been through enough.

[midnightbears]

✿ duskbound, afterlight.

#STARRING: cybertronian fem reader & other characters.

#TAGS: trauma. talks of character death. hopelessness? mentions of prostitution. no appearance of canon characters because this is an intro. hunger games reference!

#NOTES: hi! still alive, just not writing for kny atm because my head is like a powerpoint presentation with all my hyperfixations and i can't write for requests when it is on another slide. hope that makes sense. this is the first chapter of my megatron x reader, a strangers to lovers to enemies featuring pre-war cybertron, a magnanimous amount of lore, a lot of non-cannon stuff like sparklings and stuff because i can do whatever i want, and my flickering motivation to finish it. i don't have a specific transformers i'm basing the timeline off, so we will see. i thought of publishing it on ao3 or smth but i have better judgement so i just figured i would upload the first chapter on tumblr. the new transformers movie was soooo good and it inadvertently rekindled my transformers obsession. enjoy? let me know if you like it, i would appreciate it if you have questions or anything :) THIS BITCH IS LONG SO BEWARE

part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

"Y/N, my optics hurt."

"I know, sweetspark, I know."

This place reeked. Pure flowing smoke and vapor, stinking energon, and the smell of the gray coal and ash that powdered the laborers' and miners' bodies like scintillating glitter filled the pavements of that day—such fragrant poetry. 

The barely perceivable light that shone down could not even be called proper illumination in the first place. Every once in a while, the wells of your optics danced up to gaze toward where the sweltering sunlight was supposed to be.

Still, your spark did nothing but wail at you when, each time, all that you caught were mountains upon mountains of pitch-dark vapor, dull particles of dust from the mines, and the visualization of the austere whispers of despair and anguish among the workers of one of the mining towns from one of Cybertron's Primus-forsaken satellites, Nuna 5PY.

Even if you turned to look towards the downtown streets, the particles infiltrated your vents and blistered your optics.

Some workers used gas masks, while others retreated to the mines, where the synthetic stench wasn't as foul, but most were forced to return to work. They snatched up energon everywhere they could, recharged in fits and starts among their screaming. You seriously needed to leave.

As Vaportrail coughed onto the city street, you held her small servo. Even with the torrential acid pouring last night, the smog got to her well before the rush hour. 

You realized things would not improve today, so you hurried in fear of the younger developing tear-streaked optics and a headache to match. It saddened you that Vaportrail would never know what a normal life would be like. It was as though they had collectively given up years before she was born, which was unjust to her and all the future sparklings. 

You grabbed her and pulled her into the cart. Traveling was enjoyable, but not at the price of introducing additional hazardous particles into the environment. 

Mining Outpost R–02 was one of the towns from Nuna 5PY, where unnamed members of the lower classes labored interminably, tediously. The gloomy, smoky shambles of a metropolis required the Communication Grid to communicate with other areas and locations simply. It was no place for a sparkling. 

The infant cybertronian lay quietly on the sulfurous mine carriage attached to the railway, more vulnerable than the glass that was painstakingly constructed for the masses of the High-caste buildings and just as giddily colored.

You wondered if her peds are dirty; how would you know? You pondered what she ate back when Starlight was still living in this downtown slum; where did her mother get energon to nourish her? 

Your servos were callous from several scars and defects, and a part of you ached to sweep her up in her arms and shelter her eternally. But. How could you ever live with yourself if you didn't allow such an innocent being to live a tranquil life?

"I'm sorry about your carrier," You told the sparkling wistfully, making sure she was comfortable for the long ride from here to where your late best friend wanted her youngling to go if something ever happened to her. You gave her a small pad which contained personal information like her name and situation, along with a plead for somebot to take her to safety, "Cybertropolis is a nice place, just make sure you reach the police station safely, they'll know where to take you." 

"Thank you," Vaportrail squeaked out, her knees pulled up to her chest plate. 

The train inevitably started, and you walked in tandem with the slow speed of the carriage just to get a good, final look at the sparkling's dainty, cheerless face. Vaportrail would surely be a problem when she got older because all of the mechs would swoon over her—deservingly so.

With those optics and a grin as charming and gauzy as that, she was the very picture of the youthful beauty who had once bored the name of Starlight. You believed she was the sweetest femmeling on the planet.

"I love you, okay? And I'm sure your carrier is so proud of you. Good luck!"

Eventually, you had to withdraw from the train, which only allowed you to stare at the vanishing small frame of a waving Vaportrail, whose response had been forever lost in the sad, sepulchral winds of the town. 

Despite that, you could still stare at the sparkling's naive, callow features and find colossal gratitude and admiration in its place, which made a lump form in your voicebox and squeezing palpation beat inside your spark chamber.

With Vaportrail gone, the smell of blazing smoke burned your olfactory sensors and induced you to cover them with your suitable servo. You had never before realized that the shrilling blare of the injectors, the drills, the massive excavators, and the wheels of the trucks could be so overwhelmingly loud, either. From the corner of your optics, the flashes and instants of the sparks that aimlessly flew around whenever metal met metal brought you out of your bewildered daydream. 

But then you turned and saw the portrait of shattered ambition, lost hope, undetermined origins, opaque bitterness, damaged honor, futile dreams, and wavering will that assembled the cybertronians of Nuna 5PY.

It was a blow to the back of your head.

Starlight was dead.

If you closed your optics, you could still see the glow on her metallurgical protoform, the spark that no longer burned, and the sound of her laughter that still reverberated in your audio receptors and processor.

Oh, you missed her desperately. 

She'd spent her days as a young and daring cybertronian who didn't let the vacillating shame of her prostitution career ridicule her or anything she was. A good, pleasant, and kind femme that thrived and existed, only for some mech to tear her from her home and forever close her laughing optics. She was a femme, a friend, a sister, and a carrier.

She was someone.

"Oi, femme!"

You knew that whoever was calling that word in such a degrading manner was referring to you and you only. You were aware that you were one of the few femmes working on that hellhole.

Sourly, you turned your helm to the source of the voicebox and found your boss—if he could even be called that—staring at you rigorously from across the street. Other mechs were beside him, and in their hungry optics, you could see hunger, amusement, a blatant lack of respect, and other things—all of it for you.

"You said five minutes. Start moving your aft before I tell someone to move it for you."

The group of despicable mechs started laughing at the humorous, unique, spectacular, utterly not-ever-done-before knee-slapper comment. You wondered what comedians told to get a chuckle or two out of their audience nowadays. 

You detested yourself when you started walking back to the mines with crystal-clear coolant forming in your optics and with the words caught inside your voicebox.

Even the clicking of your battered timer had a languid touch in the fading light of their (your) chamber as if it were a spark-beat at rest. The perpetual rhythm of it became more of a white noise inside the transparent yet spurious safety surrounding your beguiling, chimerical space bubble. 

The memory of the lingering perfume of Starlight's aromatic utensils saturated you far more intensely than it did only days before, making you want to pound and bang your head against the wall until you ran out of energon inside your body.

Your spark chamber was wrenched apart in the core by a hollow cavity. It had been there for forty-eight groons. Faithless and cynical, the pit that took form inside of you pulled you to the very depths of your revolted mind.

You were immobile, your bare servos lying at your sides and your digits tinkering with the berth. Everything within the room drove you crazy and made you want to tear out your optics under the scrutinizing, deep-rooted omnipresence of both the carrier and the sparkling.

Vaportrail was not napping on her carrier's bed; her small chest plating was not rising and falling according to her mellow, smooth breathing. You remembered how she would spring from Starlight's berth just to greet you after every single burdensome solar cycle of nothing but suffering under the cruel comments and sometimes spiteful actions of mechs and their superiors. 

You knew and understood that she left for a better life in Cybertropolis, yet you just can't comprehend why you are not hearing her dulcet giggles and her voice as soft as a feather.

"Y/N, look at me!"

You turned your helm lightly toward the soft-spoken sparkling from your spot on your berth. 

One of your stabilizers was crossed over the other, your servos snuggly behind your helm. Due to your horizontal position, you were seeing Vaportrail in a somewhat awkward manner, whispering something to her carrier excitedly, which made you turn your whole frame so you were resting against your side, lifting your helm with your right servo.

"What is it, V?"

Vaportrail, who had her mother's laughing optics, stood proudly atop Starlight's berth beside her laying figure, servos on her hips and grin on her dermas, meekly waiting for you to look at her so she could show her spectacular stunt.

She was no bigger than a mining pickaxe, which is why she was never let out of Starlight's and your’s shared chamber. She was still tiny, even for a youngling her age, but that was not unusual, as the impoverished environment and the mediocre energon didn't do much to help anyway. Primus knows what could happen to someone so small and so weak.

Her confident, puffed-up stand made you laugh casually, as while typically Vaportrail was a modest sparkling, never one to demand attention or directly ask for what she wanted, whenever she got like this and let out her inner childishness for the silliest of things, both you and Starlight would get tons of laughter out of it.

"Go on! Show Y/N what you've been practicing," Starlight encouraged.

When you nodded at Vaportrail, signaling that your attention was entirely on her, her optics lit up. She walked towards the end of her carrier's berth, planting her peds at the very ends before turning around. 

Vaportrail crouched, and with a slight push from her servos and an impulse from her peds, she successfully rolled forward in the berth, landing on her bottom before scrambling to get up and putting her servos up in the air, muttering a small 'Ta-da!'

You had smiled warmly, watching Vaportrail giggle to herself giddily. Starlight clapped for her and swarmed her in a big hug, proud of her sparkling and happy that she had gotten her little trick right. Honestly, you were a bit jealous. You wished you could be this happy by doing something as simple as a gymnastic maneuver.

Vaportrail cheered along with her carrier, excitedly thumping her peds against the surface of the berth. Then she turned to look at you, her optics gleaming with happiness. "I did it! I did a forward roll!"

"Oh, did you?" After your rhetorical question, you languidly returned to your original position, lying with your back plates on the berth and your servos behind your helm. You cheekily turned to Vaportrail and Starlight, a sly, good-natured smile pulling at your dermas; you closed your optics. "I wasn't looking."

"Y/N!"

Both femmes happily laughed at the moping undertones of Vaportrail's voice.

"Just kidding!"

That day was a long time ago, at least it seemed to be; it felt like it. Those words were spoken in the same chamber you slept and resided in. That comical stunt was performed in the berth across from yours. They were not here anymore. Even if you wished they were back together, that deceitful dream would only be achieved by death.

No one can pursue their dreams or be free enough without it. Freedom is for the rich because dreaming costs money.

Starlight wasn't there to hold her youngling and hug you when you needed it. You weren't hearing her voice either, singing lullabies to help you both fall into a much-needed recharge. Her presence was so needed, so sought; in places like this, femmes like her were what one needed to forget about the harsh burden that was the act of being alive. To think that only forty-eight groons before she was still living, she was still here. 

Her memory made you miserable because best friends comprehend you like no other. Starlight was overly protective and brutally honest—as if she ever needed that. You felt so enraged and resentful at not being there to protect her that you feared you might break. 

Although you dug Starlight's grave, blatantly refusing to let the body of your best friend turn into waste parts or scrap metal, a part of you still suppressed the image. One day, you would properly weep for her, but first, you had to accept that she was truly gone. A part of you would never be able to accept that Starlight would never appear, skipping around a corner to tease you for falling for her clever joke.

‘How can she be dead?’

Harsh knocks against your metal door made you jerk from your position on the berth.

"08, are you in there?!" 

The boisterous tone of the mech standing behind your door made you remember that you were still real and breathing inside your crude, undeserving, unworthy existence. Your bubble-turned crystal cocoon inevitably started collapsing at the reminder that life could still go on without Starlight because, after all, no cybertronian knew who Starlight is—was. No cybertronian knew who Starlight was. The world moved on without her.

Without thinking much, you got up from the cold berth, chills flourishing in your metallurgic skin before walking the small distance towards the oxidized door and swinging it open. You would not have considered the thought of opening (being too engrossed in your self-pity and wallowing in grief, you know?) in the first place was it not for the genuine undertones of chipper motivation that were painted over H–01's usually harsh, asperous voice. 

Wait, why was he at your door anyway?

His hulking, rusted frame was as corroded as ever, and it was honestly a little sickening to look at. Despite the awful veil of dust and ash that littered him, the grayish, crimson, and dull turquoise glares of his deteriorated paint job could still be peeked at; his wheels were decaying, and his melancholic optics had lost their love for life— as had everybot else's.

Ancient as a cosmic star and twice as intelligent, with his towering structure and terse personality, H–01 was by far one of the town's most elderly seniors—and, may you add, one of the most cordial. 

You remembered the day you first arrived here, back when you were still an inexperienced femme in life, gullible, back when you dreamed dreams. 

After an accident in your old work establishment,—one of the mech coworkers had stepped over the line with you, resulting in a mining pickaxe protruding from his knee plate and a lot of energon spilled around— you had been sent to Mining Outpost R–02, and H–01 quickly took it upon himself to become a mentor of some sort as you shared letter unit. 

You recalled that he laughed as he had never before when you told him the story of why they had banned you from your previous workplace. Later, you met Starli—

"08?"

You blinked owlishly, and realizing that he was calling out to you, you grounded yourself and met his preoccupied gaze.

"What did you need?"

He frowned at your mediocre attempt at lying. H–01 was by no means stupid, and sadly, you didn’t give enough credit and didn't acknowledge how easily he could pick apart your facade, layer by layer, until your shell was utterly ripped apart.

"Kid, I may be rusty, but I'm shrewd enough to know that you're not well." You became conscious of how absurd you must have seemed in his words. He continued. "I'm sorry about your friend and her sparkling."

There it was again, that funny feeling, that blow to the back of your head. You felt your spark wail painfully, and your limbs tensed up, your optics frantically searching into H–01's face plates for any sign of mockery. You found none. You almost crumbled at his sincere words until your response was unwillingly driven back to your tanks when the piercing siren started blasting across the halls of the chambers.

Instinctively, you covered your audio receptors at the discomfort. At the same time, H–01 merely stared into the speaker device right up against the wall, a bit far away from them. From the corner of his optics, he saw many of the workers exiting their chambers, each of them confused, some of them covering their audial receptors as well, and others staring, irritated and visibly vexed at the gadget that was currently stripping them of their much-needed recharging hours.

The workers of the 8th unit, otherwise known as the H unit, approached the oldest mech from their division, questioning themselves about what was going on. Their optics wilted, and there was a slight lolling to their helms, drunk with weariness after a session of an endless cycle of mining.

"01, what's going on?" One of them asked rather loudly, trying to shout over the siren, coming up to them just as you got used to the loud siren and pulled your servos away from your audial receptors. 

You moved out of the entrance of your chamber to shut the door behind you, joining H–01 by standing beside him. They shared a brief glance, one filled with puzzlement, the other brimming with uncertainty. But before anyone could share their answer or even make a single move, the horrendous blaring of the alarm stopped. 

The speaker against the wall went completely silent, and a single red light started beeping. The Cybertronians looked at each other, baffled.

Someone talked via the speaker.

:: Attention, all workers. You are summoned to the patio at this instant. Once you reach the area, stand in your respective branch line and don't question your current predicament; ignoring this order will result in immediate offlining. I repeat: ignoring this order will result in immediate offlining ::

I need to leave. I need to leave. I need to leave. I need to leave.

That was what you were thinking when you, H–01, and the others walked among the congregation of cybertronians—you would have said mechs were it not for the few femme 'nurses' among the outer lines of the crowds, who as far as you were concerned, were the ones who took care of the workers who suffered minor accidents like infected optics, fractured limbs or something along those lines. 

It was not like they counted anyway. Primus knew what they were actually in this town for and what they did to survive.

The patio, used for Cybertronians during their spare time, was circular, wide of range, and littered with damaged devices and compartment containers, a whole mess of passed-down gear and materials. 

Whenever they got their energon rations and stopped here to rest, H–01 would remark that only the fuel granted to them wasn't recycled—well, that and the smoke. The patio boulders formed a patchwork, with stones obtained as useless scraps and waste from renovations resting together as lovely as crystalline statues from the High-caste buildings. It had artistry to it, as well as smoothness. You and H–01 used to sit there together.

You saw the executives of Mining Outpost R–02, violently shove some of the workers towards their specific department, yelling something at them that you couldn't quite catch. Considering the calm and easy-going attitude of the mistreated miners, you could just tell that they were the prissy, fastidious mechs of the upper divisions, maybe the 1st or the 2nd, where they didn't get punished for slacking off or harassing other workers along with the bosses just for the fun of it.

Your unit quickly got on its respective branches and neatly stood in line. You all exchanged terse nods, mentally preparing yourselves for whatever was about to happen. 

In front of you and the rest of your division were the mechs of the 7th unit, and behind them were the workers of the 9th, and so on. Judging by the others' facial expressions, they, too had no idea of why they'd been called here nor could muster up a word, which only fueled your desire to learn what was going on. The patio got tighter, more claustrophobic as cybertronians arrived.

You were the last number in your unit, meaning that you were placed in the furthest spot from your old friend. You lightly reclined your helm backward to attempt and catch a glimpse of H–01, but to no success, as you saw him and all the other mechs, for that matter, focused on the temporary stage ahead of them. 

It held a podium, a small staircase, and fifteen glass balls with electronic chips on them. One for each unit of the Mining Outpost. A chill went down your spinal plate at the thought.

An overwhelming, ominous silence suddenly governed the patio when a mech no one working here had ever seen before climbed up the staircase. The way he moved caused cybertronians to stare at him in fear. 

The mech was brawny and towering, and the way his helm fell over his lifeless, devoid optics and left shadows smeared on his cheek plates made others shudder. He was directly in front of the plain, pitiful microphone stand. However, an almost charming smile crossed his dermas.

"I suppose you're asking yourselves why were you brought in here."

Because of the microphone, his voice, profound and with a baritone tone, boomed across the patio, making you wince lightly at its loudness. You, of course, were desensitized from loud noises due to the continuous straining sounds of the mining machines around you day after day, as everyone else was. However, his statement caused many cybertronians to look among themselves, clearly disturbed.

"Gentlemechs, my name is Bullway, and I've come all the way here from Kaon to offer you a choice. I intend to give fifteen of you the chance of coming to Kaon with me and becoming gladiators."

Hushed whispers and inaudible sentences started falling from everyone's dermas at Bullway's words and what they implied. From the corner of your optics, you saw most of the mechs look at each other in mute amazement at what they had just been offered.

Their superiors, who were at the base of the set-up podium, quickly took it upon themselves to silence everyone with a loud yell, the absence of sound appearing once again.

"Think about it! Money, power, glory, fame, all laid at your digitprints!" Bullway threw his arms out to emphasize his words. "Join me, and all you have ever dreamed of will come true. A life of nothing but recognition! Isn't that what you deserve?! Isn't that what you dream of as you stare at the ceilings of your measly stations?!"

Dreaming cost money. Dreaming cost money. Dreaming cost money.

Almost as if he had read your mind, H–01 subtly leaned his helm forward to take a peek at the workers of the section he conducted. Most of them remained stoic, and he was very glad to see that, but what worried him the most right now was H–08.

His facial plates morphed into that of slight disturbance because as he peered into your face, he clearly saw what could only be described as contemplation, doubt, and consideration, which both bothered and worried him.

Bullway smiled at how he had you under a forged delusion and continued his speech, "See the crystal globes here? There's one for each unit of your Mining Outpost. They all contain chips with your respective electronic signatures. Each vorn you have worked here, your signature will be entered an additional time. You can figure out the rest, so let us begin!"

Each vorn?

You suddenly realized that the globes were not in order because, in the same minute that you let the circumstances sink in, Bullway had already slipped a servo inside one of the spheres and grabbed one chip from it, reading it aloud so everyone could hear the letter and number clearly.

"G–10!"

All of the divisions started looking among each other, searching for the (not) lucky mech, a pregnant silence following suit as the group in front of them all glared sympathetically at the chosen one, who stood frozen in place, optics blinking several times, wishing to Primus that Bullway had read the designation incorrectly and it wasn't him who was just chosen.

You felt a shiver run down your spinal plate when one of the guards roughly seized his shoulder and made him start walking toward the platform, ignoring the mech's begging and lightly dragging him across the patio as everyone stared in horror. Your intake suddenly went dry when Bullway moved to the next globe, grabbed an electronic chip, moved to the microphone again, and read it aloud.

This time it was from the upper divisions, A–07, you heard.

Just like that, another mech was whisked away from his branch line and thrown across the patio. He then ascended the flight of stairs to stand beside G–10, who apparently was still encapsulated in deep denial, continuously shaking his helm in disbelief. It was tenaciously obvious that Bullway did not concern himself with their worries and imminent fear as he once again moved toward a globe and grabbed another.

You wished cybertronians would step outside their own frames and oversee from the outside what was actually happening at that very instant in Nuna 5PY. Plucked from their workstations like flowers in a garden, sent off to Kaon for the purpose of entertainment for the Upper class with the bombastic excuse of 'MONEY POWER GLORY' behind it.

Prisoners inside their own bodies, trapped to fend off for themselves on a planet where no one cared about them.

Electronic signatures continued rolling off the mech's glossa like energon from a wishing well. The mechs that were chosen always did the exact same thing. They stood completely aghast for a few nanokliks, staring at the soot-stained ground in front of them in absolute shock, their frames deflating like rubber balloons, dermas parting in awe at themselves because they just couldn’t believe it.

F–03.

I–11.

D–04.

E–07.

K–15.

O–02.

When they got prodded by one of the guards, they stared at them, silently begging for compassion, but they found none. Eventually, they were pulled out of their place and shoved towards the staircase on the stage, where Bullway gleefully welcomed all the newcomer 'gladiators' just to grab another electronic chip and call out yet another designation, and so repeating the cycle.

C–01.

M–06.

B–09.

L–01.

J–02.

N–14.

Oh, there was still a globe left. The H unit.

The crowd drew in a collective breath, and then you could hear a pin drop. You were feeling nauseous, your servos clammy, your whole frame tense, your processor hurt, and your spark ached. You longed to see Starlight, you wanted to chase after the train where you sent Vaportrail off to Cyberpolis, and you didn’t know how much H–01 was desperately hoping that it wasn’t you, that it wasn’t you, that it wasn’t you.

"And the last one! H–08!"

[srue-on-fire]

Everything Comes Back To You

2. LIGHT IN THE DARK

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader Rating: General Audiences Title: Niall Horan's Flicker Summary: After Shannon leaves, surrendering custody of Christopher, Eddie is left to raise him alone under the weight of guilt and his parents’ judgment. You try to hold everything together, but love, frustration, and a bitter argument leave you both fractured and silent. Tags: childhood friends, temporarily unrequited love, angst, emotional hurt. Word Count: 1300

read on ao3 ~ part one | tumblr

🐟

The days slipped by in strange shapes. Some were heavy, dragging behind you like wet laundry. Others passed so fast you didn’t remember what you ate or said or did, only that it had been one more day without them.

No Christopher. No tiny sneakers on the welcome mat. No Eddie. No worn jacket tossed over your couch.

After the first week, it felt like holding onto numbers was a way to keep the pain alive —like checking the wound every morning to see if it still bled. And it always did. You’d wake up and your heart would ache the same way it did the day Maria told you they were gone.

So instead, you learned to exist again. You started filling your days with the kind of things that didn’t make space for grief —going to work, volunteering at community center, walking shelter dogs, baking muffins you didn’t eat. You’d learned how to keep busy without feeling better.

You stopped checking your phone after the second week. It didn’t help. Not when there was no missed call. No text. Not even a dumb meme Eddie would’ve sent when he didn’t know how to say he missed you. 

And oh fucking hell, did you miss him . 

You told yourself it was better this way. You told yourself this was what love looked like sometimes.

But you never stopped glancing at the crayon drawing still pinned under the fading fridge magnet. The pictures on your walls. In your phone.

Especially Christopher’s. His laughter haunted the corners of your house.

You missed the way his arms would wrap around your waist and squeeze with everything he had. You missed how he’d ask questions you weren’t ready to answer —like the time he asked ‘ why do grown-ups cry when they think nobody can hear them?’ when Shannon had a bad day and left him with you.  

You missed the little things. Friday evenings at the park. Making him pancakes shaped like dinosaurs or spacecrafts.

You missed your little boy.

🐟

It happened on a Wednesday.

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, spilling orange light across the kitchen floor while you stood at the counter, chopping vegetables without much thought. The house was too quiet, save for the soft hum of the fridge and the click of the knife against the wooden board.

Your phone buzzed.

You glanced at it without much interest— then froze.

New text from: Abuela Isabella

Your heart stuttered. Then stopped entirely when you read the message.

Abuela Isabel Hi 🐟 I miss u Dont tell bisabuela ok

Your knife slipped against the cutting board. You barely noticed. You fumbled the phone into your wet, shaking hands, breath caught in your throat.

You Who is this?

Three dots blinked.

Abuela Isabel Its me Christopher 🙂

Your knees went weak. You braced yourself against the counter, exhaling sharply, pressing a hand to your chest. It took another few seconds before your brain rebooted and you scrambled to type a reply.

You Oh my god, kiddo I miss you too! Are you okay??

The reply was instant. 

Abuela Isabel Yes We have fish I miss pancakes

You Fish??

Abuela Isabel Yes real ones One is named noodle She is my best friend now

You laughed. It came out rough and wet and more like a sob than a sound of joy. You covered your mouth with your hand and sat down slowly at the kitchen table.

You I’m so glad you have Noodle. I bet she’s lucky to have you, too.

Abuela Isabel Is daddy okay? He says weird things Like he's glad I am his kid

You stared at the question. Your thumbs hovered above the keyboard, unmoving. It shouldn’t be a hard thing to answer. But it felt like holding a glass sculpture in your hands —too fragile, too sharp in the wrong places.

You He will be. He’s trying really hard, huh?

The reply came quicker this time.

Abuela Isabel Yes He runs a lot He says others are fast but he is faster I think he is like a superhero

You chuckled as more tears welled up. Of course, Christopher thought that. That kid was so proud of his dad, if only the dad knew it.

You I bet he is. I’m proud of him.

There was a pause. Just a few moments, but it felt like time stretched thin between each bubble of dots.

Abuela Isabel Are you mad at daddy? He told abuela that you fought Dont tell him I was listening ok

You stared at the question. Felt the echo of it hit somewhere deep in your chest, just under the bone. It wasn’t fair —that Christopher had to ask. That he was the one threading the needle between two broken hearts, trying to sew something back together with hands still learning to tie shoelaces.

You pressed your forehead to the table.

Then you typed.

You No, sweetheart. I could never stay mad at your dad.

You paused. Watched the cursor blink like it was holding its breath.

We just said things that hurt. But I still love him. Very much.

More dots. And then, 

Abuela Isabel I think he misses u too Like I go to sleep He sits on the porch and looks sad

You gripped the phone tighter and squeezed your eyes shut.

You I sit on the porch too. The light is flickering. I need to fix it.

Abuela Isabel There is a light here too But it is too bright I like the your porch better

You Me too. I miss you, Christopher. Every day.

Abuela Isabel Miss you too Ok I told Noodle u missed me She says hi

You smiled, watery. Imagining a fish tank perched on abuela’s sun room table, sunlight dancing on glass. Tiny fingerprints where he probably tried to chase the fish. It was calm and warm and so Christopher.

You Give her a cuddle for me. And tell her I said thanks for keeping you company.

You hesitated again. Then, careful, 

You Can you do something for me, mijo?

Abuela Isabel Ok

You Tell your dad to be kind to himself. Even when it’s hard.

There was a longer pause this time. You could picture him, tongue between his teeth, thinking hard like he always did when he felt like something was too big for just words.

Abuela Isabel I will But only if he lets me eat ice cream first

You laughed again. This time, it didn’t hurt as much.

Another beat.

Abuela Isabel Ok I need to go

You Alright. Love you, kiddo. Give Noodle a high five from me.

Abuela Isabel Ok She does not have hands But I will try I love you too 🐟💙

You laughed again. A soft, shaky thing. Your hand pressed over your heart like it might keep it from breaking wide open all over again.

You didn’t move after that. Just sat there, phone warm in your hand, the kitchen bathed in orange light. It smelled like cut vegetables and lemon and something like hope.

He was okay. He was okay. They were okay.

Maybe the wound hadn’t closed. Maybe it never would. But for the first time in weeks, it didn’t ache so loudly.

For now, there was hope.

And one little boy with a fish emoji who still knew exactly where to find you.

🐟

A/N: Thank you so much for the response on the first part, guys!

[allfryam]

sugarcoated (remastered)

for those of you that don’t know, sugarcoated was the first story I posted on tumblr and… it’s rough. So I decided I would rewrite the story so it’s at least a little bit better because I really like the idea. Enjoy!

The crowd roared in excitement as Andrew made the winning shot right as the buzzer went off. He pumped his fist in the air as his team surrounded him cheering. Andrew had just won the championship basketball game for his school. It was the last game of his senior year and he was gonna be off to college soon.

in the locker room, Andrew took off his clothes and got in the shower. Little did he know, his friend miles was watching from afar, admiring Andrew’s perfect body. His wet, curly brown hair fell perfectly onto his tan face. His sharp jawline could cut through steel, and miles had to practically stop himself from drooling as he admired Andrew’s body. His toned abs and muscular arms looked even better with glistening hot water running down them. His tight ass sat atop his meaty legs proudly. Miles had to stop himself from staring before he got a boner. He couldn’t wait until college though. Miles and Andrew decided to be roommates when they went to college. Miles dreamed of seeing Andrew’s perfect body every day.

when it came time to make his schedule for the fall, Andrew discovered he had an open slot. Looking through the available classes, he only saw one that didn’t look like a snooze fest. “Baking 101”. Andrew reluctantly clicked on it and forgot about it until the first class.

Andrew was relieved to see miles when he walked into the baking class for the first time. He was nervous about not knowing anyone in his classes but miles made it a little bit better. Professor miller began the class by saying it will be very difficult and take up a lot of your time. Andrew rolled his eyes but decided to stay because of miles. The boys grabbed dinner after class and Andrew decided to skip the gym to get started on his homework. He had gone to the gym almost everyday in high school, but with all of the stress in college, he hardly ever had time.

the first week had come and gone and Andrew was starting to get into a routine. He only ever had time to go to the gym on the weekends and he usually skipped cardio. He figured he got enough of that walking to class every day. He actually ended up really liking his baking class in particular. The professor was pretty cool and they got to eat everything they made in class. One day the professor asked miles and Andrew to stay after class and have a chat with him. “I’ve made an accident, and I figured I would reward my two best students with it.” Professor miller said. “I read the ingredients wrong and made way too many cookies for my other class to sample. These are the leftovers.” Professor opened a Tupperware full of sugar cookies. “I decided to let you two have them so they wouldn’t go to waste.” Andrew’s eyes lit up as he thanked the professor. Miles was running late for his class so he grabbed a few cookies and took off, but Andrew had nowhere to be, so he plopped his ass down in a chair and dug in. Professors cooking was phenomenal. The cookies were the best Andrew ever had! He stacked them three high and ate them as quickly as he could. There were about 40 cookies in the container when he started, and there were only 5 left now. Andrew moaned as he slowly continued eating the cookies. For the last cookie, he just shoved the whole thing in his mouth and tried not to gag as he chewed. He eventually got it down and leaned back in his chair.

that night, when Andrew was on his way to the shower, Miles noticed his abs were looking a little less defined. Probably just the bloat from all those cookies. Miles wasn’t mad at what he saw though… he actually kinda liked it…

classes continued to ramp up in difficulty and Andrew had less and less time for exercise. He would find himself going to the school kitchen late at night to practice his baking. To his surprise, he actually ended up really enjoying the baking class. He got to hang out with miles, and eat all of the sweet treats he made in class. He ate pies, cookies, cakes, pastries, brownies, bread, and more. He only had the class two days a week, but he found himself going to the kitchen when it was empty to make some more treats for himself. One late night, Andrew had just finished making himself a warm apple pie. He sat down at one of the tables and dug in. The warm, gooey apples slid down his throat and he instantly felt relieved. He continued eating until he heard a small “pop”. He looked down to see the button on his jeans had come undone. He grabbed the two sides and tried to pull them back together, but he was really struggling. He stood up and struggled some more before he finally got them to button. He went to the bathroom to look in the mirror, and to his surprise, his perfect abs were starting to turn into a soft, round belly. Andrew grabbed it and gave it a little shake. It jiggled a little but he could still feel some muscle in there. Andrew shrugged it off as a bloat and finished off the rest of his pie. when he got back to the dorm, he took off his shirt and walked over to miles. “Dude, do you think I’m getting fat?” He asked. Miles eyes grew wide as he looked at Andrew’s gut. “Uhhh… no way man! You look great! Sure you’ve probably put on a few but it makes you look way stronger.” Miles replied, trying to hold back his boner. “Yeah you’re probably right. Thanks dude.”

over the coming weeks, Andrew continued to eat various treats and his waistline continued to grow. He stopped wearing jeans because he could never get them buttoned, so he only wore pants or shorts with an elastic waistband. His belly continued to grow rounder and began to fall over his waistband. His size medium shirts no longer covered his gut so he started wearing large, and those were even starting to get a little tight.

as Andrew laid in bed eating cake one night, miles got an idea. He knew Andrew couldn’t resist food, especially sweets, so he started bringing home all of the treats he baked in class to give to Andrew. Andrew would always be incredibly grateful and scarf the food down like it was nothing. For his second semester of classes, he decided to take all of his classes online. He hated having to walk across campus, and it was easy to just sit in bed in his underwear all day.

now that Andrew practically never left the dorm, his weight began to skyrocket. Miles watched his slight paunch turn into a dad bod, and that turned into a beer belly, and that grew into a tub of lard. Miles continued to bring Andrew food, and Andrew ate everything he brought. He didn’t even seem to mind the extra weight. It’s almost like he didn’t even notice it. He was just happy to be eating.

one day, miles decided to push Andrew’s limits. He brought home a massive amount of treats, all for Andrew. There was cake, doughnuts, pie, cookies, and more. “Woah! Is that all for me?” Andrew asked. “Yup! Decided to bring home a feast for my favorite person!” Andrew immediately dug in, tearing through the entire cake within minutes. With his face still covered in frosting, he started eating the pie. Crumbs and pieces of pie filling were falling onto his round gut bit he hardly noticed. He ate the cookies and the brownies at the same time, stacking them on top of one another and eating them as one. Miles’ boner felt like it was gonna bust through his pants with how hard he was right now. Watching Andrew devour this food was the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He needed to get in on this. “Why don’t I help you with the doughnuts?” Miles asked. Andrew just nodded his head and opened his mouth. Miles grabbed a few doughnuts and climbed on top of Andrew. Sitting on his gut, he shoved the doughnuts into his mouth and Andrew mindlessly chewed. After about 6 doughnuts, he motioned for miles to stop. “URP… I’m… full…”Andrew said breathing heavily. Miles ignored him and continued shoving the doughnuts into his mouth. By the time they were finished, Andrew’s stomach had never been so full. He looked like a beached whale. As Andrew drifted off to sleep he pulled miles close and whispered in his ear, “I love you.” Miles face got red and he saw Andrew smile. “I always have…” Andrew whispered before passing out from all of the food he just ate.

don’t really know if you guys will enjoy this one or not. The weight kinda piles on really fast and I know a lot of you like the slower paced stories, but I think the fast ones are fun! Anyway, next story will probably be fattest team in the country part 3 so stay tuned for that

[accirax]

Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 12 Dissection

DANGANRONPA DESPAIR TIME IS BACK, BABY!!!

And in the vein of what many others have being doing since the episode came out, I will here be posting my thoughts on what this latest episode has brought to the table. This post will be a mixture of pointing out things I found fun/interesting and more serious theorizing about the murder and the events of the surrounding chapter. I also tried not to read too many other people's opinions or theories before writing my own post so that I hopefully wouldn't have my immediate opinions swayed, so I apologize if I've missed any critical easter eggs that others have pointed out or if I'm just beating a dead horse.

Let the episode commence!

SPOILERS for Danganronpa: Despair Time through Chapter 2, Episode 12!

Really important/long stuff will probably have a header-y title under it as well. I also might skip around in time a bit to put relevant pieces of evidence together? IDK, I'm kinda winging this for this first episode.

The Whole AM/PM Thing

Charles: The evidence against David-- in fact, our entire line of reasoning hinges on the fact that Arei must have been killed at around 7:30 PM last night. But the primary reason we believe the murder occurred at that time is because of the fish found at the crime scene. From that, Teruko concluded that since the killer accessed the relaxation room for water, the murder couldn't have occurred during night time. So, unless I'm missing some other piece of evidence that could explain it... Why couldn't the killer simply have taken the water during daytime and stored it for later use?

Well, by this point I think that pretty much everyone (on Tumblr, at least) was in agreement that Arei was killed in the morning rather than the evening, no matter who their personal choice of killer was. So, the murder happening in the morning isn't much of a surprise.

For all my talk of trying not to look at others' theories, I did talk with my sister @venus-is-thinking in person after we watched the episode, and she brought up a really good point that I'd like to reiterate here. Sorry for stealing something that you'll certainly bring up in your post as well! I just want as many people to be aware of it as possible.

During the investigation, Nico says that they fed the fish last night after they ate dinner, and didn't notice any fish missing at that time. To be fair, Teruko tries to press them for a specific time, and Nico responds that they don't remember at what hour exactly they fed the fish or ate dinner.

However (likely relevantly to the murder) we do have specific intel about last night's dinner to get a better sense of some timing. When Teruko is talking to Charles and Whit in the Computer Room, Whit remarks that it's "past dinner time," and Teruko's stomach growls. This is likely using Whit's internal clock and sense of when dinner time is as opposed to a MonoTV-mandated meal time, but given that no one else is in the Kitchen besides Teruko, Charles, Whit, and David when the former three enter, and we know that Nico must have had dinner before the Relaxation Room closed at 10 PM, we can probably assume that Nico also ate dinner around a regular "dinner time."

However x2, we also know that, after Teruko, Charles, and Whit go to the Kitchen, Whit sends David to the Relaxation Room, and Teruko mentions that she was planning to eat there as well. That means that we have three accounts of students believing that the Relaxation Room was open at that time, so we can assert that the terucharwhit dinner scene occurs before 10 PM.

So, what does this mean? Well, we'll start by assuming that Nico ate dinner at, like... 6:30? Hu says that she and Eden have a tradition of cleaning up after dinner together, starting at 7 PM. I'm ballparking that eating a meal might take about 30 minutes, so that would mean everyone is done at 7:00. Therefore, Nico probably fed the fish at around 7:00 as well.

We'll also set egg dinner (that's what I'm calling terucharwhit + David dinner now) at, like 9:30. Once again assuming that someone could eat dinner in about 30 minutes, that means either David or Teruko could comfortably eat their dinner before the Relaxation Room closed. It also gives the culprit basically the widest possible amount of time to steal the fish, and I like to be as all-inclusive as possible.

To return to the main point for a moment, Venus' argument was that, because Nico interacted with the fish at night and didn't notice any of them missing, the culprit still must have taken the fish at night (but before 10 PM), not just at any point of the day. Based on my time frame, that means that whoever killed Arei (or someone working with them) must have gotten the fish at some time between 7:00 and 9:30. Let's run through who that could possibly be:

Teruko: There's a small window of opportunity for her to have done it before meeting with Charles and Whit in the Computer Lab, but we didn't see her do that, so I'm gonna say no.

Xander: He was dead.

Charles: I'm pretty sure Charles and Whit have claimed to be together all day, and they were at least already together in the Computer Lab working together on something before Teruko entered. Assuming they weren't in on this together, I'm going to give him a tentative no.

Ace: So, assuming that Ace was telling the truth about overhearing David and Arei on the night of Day 7, he would have been in the Gym at ~9:30 on the night the fish were taken. That is to say, if he had just taken the fish (and potentially even hid them in the Gym fridge), he absolutely could have gone to the Gym afterwards. I don't remember him having any sort of alibi otherwise. Easy yes.

Arei: Given that, other than Ace (and David) claiming to have seen her at 9:30, no one is admitting to have seen Arei since lunchtime, Arei did have a window of opportunity to take the fish. Obviously, why she would (inadvertently or not) help her killer to kill her is still a huge question mark, but we're talking possibility, so it's a yes.

Rose: Rose has no alibi ever because she's asleep. Yes.

Hu: Hu and Eden claim to have a continuous alibi together between 7 and 10 PM. Again, unless they're in on it together, tentative no.

Eden: Same as Hu. Tentative no.

Levi: Levi was "doing his laundry," which even he admits is shaky at best. He's a yes.

Arturo: J says that Arturo was by her side from the entire time between 7:30 and 10 PM. Third time's the charm-- unless Arturo and J were in on it together, Arturo is a tentative no.

Min: She was dead.

David: David entered the Kitchen for egg dinner at ~9:30, but we don't know where he was before that. Similarly, we don't know what happened at the end of Ace's story, which leaves David a window of opportunity to have taken the fish just before the Relaxation Room closed. Either way, definite yes.

Veronika: Veronika was with Teruko at the end of the night, but we don't know where she was before that. She had an opportunity; yes.

J: Arturo's alibi goes both ways. Tentative no.

Whit: Same as Charles. Tentative no.

Nico: Nico both had ample opportunity to have taken the fish before 9:30, and could have been lying about the timing of the fish despite that. Another easy yes.

So, what does that tell us? Well, it likely means that either the killer has to be Ace, Arei, Rose, Levi, David, Veronika, Nico, or someone who has one of those seven as an accomplice, or I/the students have something wrong about the timing. Venus' other point was that it's weird that that hasn't come up at this point in the Trial, so don't be surprised if we come back to it later. Or we're wrong.

And those were my notes on... the first two minutes of the Trial! That whole ramble that probably could have been a whole theory post by itself! God, I need to pick up the pace...

Dang, what a cool detail that literally none of us picked up on (as far as I remember). Seriously, how did nobody even throw that out as an off-the-wall possibility? Anyways, if the body was still swinging, that means the murder-- or at least the hanging-- was recent recent. Sadly, given that no detail is given as to who arrives in the Motive Screening Room when, I don't think we have any further evidence to pin down who this might have been at the moment. Keep it in mind, though.

Okay, so I believe that J is right about "answering her own question" here, but that does therefore lead us to the conclusion that the body probably was drenched in water at some point. I do not know why. It'd be interesting if it was to clean blood off of Arei's body, although Artruro-not-being-the-killer pending there weren't any cuts or scrapes on her body. It could have also been a mistake, it's just weirder to have a mistake that covers the entire body in water. Or, it could be a failure in Arturo's alibi, which is obviously a major point of the episode.

I literally said exactly this while Ace was talking. Thank you Charles <3

First point that I feel people have commented on already: we now know that the DRDT cast believes that they are about 18! This makes sense, given that they believed that they were about to enter their first year of college, which, in the United States, happens at about 18.

Secondly...

Arturo: I started studying medicine when I was twelve. Twelve! All that amounts to is six years of medical training!

Arturo: I was only able to get this far in such a short amount of time because I specialized in plastic surgery, and nothing else. I neglected everything that wasn't immediately relevant to my goals.

Felicity is 3-4 years younger than Arturo. Therefore, she was 8-9 when Arturo started studying medicine. I don't think we have enough info at the moment to speculate as to when Arturo might have left home to pursue being a doctor, other than that 14 is generally the minimum possible age of employment in the US, while the legal age to live alone is 18. I'd love to dive into this more, but I don't think we've been given enough to complete a full timeline. Still, important to keep in mind.

A certified W for verturo shippers. "Adorable" is such a word choice.

Oh, so that's where that came from. Convenient that it doesn't seem to be relevant to this murder, because I have no explanation for it. I wonder if it'll be relevant in the future, though, or if it was just a funny gag that DRDTdev wanted to include.

As much as I've tried to refute Whit mastermind theory in the past, I have to admit that this moment was pretty suspicious for Whit. "Because it was funny" could easily be a coverup for "that's an executable offense but I'm programmed to not want to kill my mastermind so I let it go." It's still not concrete proof by any means, but I can tell that I'll be seeing this screenshot more in the future if I try to argue against Whit being the mastermind again.

Mechanisms, you say? 👀

I have been thinking so much about what the fuck this line means ever since Whit said it. Did they actually spend the night together, and Whit is just framing it in a subversively funny way? Is he saying that he's so sure that Charles doesn't have any friends other than him that there's no possibility that Charles could have been with anyone else other than him? Is he secretly the mastermind, and knows that Charles was alone through watching a security camera? Was he just saying that to be random and banking on being correct? Sir, I do not understand you. You're the best <3

Are J, David, and Veronika Telling the Truth?

Given how popular of an option J being the killer is (and to a lesser extent, David as well), I'm sure there are plenty of people out there right now wondering if this alibi, which seemingly clears J, David, and Veronika of being the blackened, could possibly be untrue. That's what we're going to attempt to examine right now.

For starters, I'm going to eliminate the possibility that all three of them are co-conspirators in Arei's death. Like, yeah, it's possible-- I guess-- but I don't understand what any of their motivations would be, or even if they did all have corresponding motivations, why any of them would have shared them with each other prior to the Trial. It also seems like a mess narratively, with three largely unconnected characters coming together to pull off an unsupported major stunt. So, I don't think this was a planned lie to conceal their teamwork.

All of them do also have plausible enough reasons for being out early in the morning. J shared hers with the Class-- she was hoping to have an Arturo-free breakfast. David makes lots of sense, as he was probably looking around hoping that there would be a body so that the secrets wouldn't be revealed. Veronika might have been awake for the same reasons; looking around for a body in hopes of having another exciting Class Trial. Or, maybe she was just so excited about seeing all the motives that she couldn't sleep. Either way, it doesn't seem too unbelievable to think that any of them would be awake in the morning, so I'm not inclined to believe it's a lie.

The only way I think you could get out of this disqualifying these three is if you say that all three of them, but especially J, are exceptionally quick on their feet.

For this to work, J has to realize ahead of time that David was trying to draw votes to himself in order to purposefully fail the Trial, bank on the fact that this is true, and throw this fake alibi out to him, hoping that he'll accept. If J could win the Class Trial as a blackened, this would also end the killing game early, which is David's stated goal. Veronika is an easier get, given that she might agree to a chaotic lie if she found it interesting enough, but it's still a gamble.

However, this situation is incredibly niche, and still really only works if J specifically is the killer. I think we can pretty officially take David and Veronika out of the running with this. Personally, trying to see things from DRDTdev's point of view, I think he just wanted a clean sweep to remove David from killer contention, and added J and Veronika as collateral as two people who aren't the killer.

I would personally take this alibi as concrete proof that J isn't the killer, but I understand if anyone still thinks there are enough holes in its suddenness to keep J in contention. My deepest condolences to J!culprit truthers-- I'm sure that alibi must've stung. (/gen)

"Harm yourself for fun" secret go brrrrrrr.

I'm making this my new tumblr header.

Yeah, seems in accordance with his actions to me.

Oh my god another "good person" name drop AAAAAAAAAA--

Being good corresponding to sacrificing something is super interesting. Whether he's a culprit or an accomplice or what, I can't help but feel like this theme might apply to Levi in the near future.

But also, David is saying that the sacrifice is being seen as a good person, not that you have to sacrifice being seen as a good person to do good things. That part seems like it relates to David's career. He doesn't seem to like being around people very much, but he's seen as a paragon of motivational speaking because he thinks that those speeches, will, overall, do some good. David would rather be a nobody, but he'll sacrifice himself to do some good for others. Or, at least, that's the charitable reading.

And, the other "good person" jumpscare. This brings our "good people" counter up to 6, including Teruko, Eden, Arei, David, Levi, and Xander.

What the Fuck is David Talking About?

David: After all, it's still unbelievable to me... That I'm the only person here who remembered him. Even if you all lost a year of memories for this killing game, there's no reason you shouldn't have recognized who he was.

Alright. So! This was one of the biggest reveals of the episode. Probably unrelated to the Trial at hand, but very intriguing for the story overall.

I went back to rewatch some of the most prominent David/Xander scenes. From David's introduction, here's everything he says before Xander runs off to grab the pen and paper for the autograph. All of these are said directly to Xander.

David: Woah! (chime sound) Sir, is everything alright? You gave me quite the scare.

David: Yes, that's me, although I don't believe we've met before.

David: Ahaha, you flatter me. But yes, it is my goal to inspire others. I wish to make everyone realize that their aspirations are within grasp; all they have to do is find the motivation within their hearts to inspire them.

David: O-oh, wow. I'm incredibly honored, I suppose? Sorry, I don't really know how to respond.

Interestingly, there isn't actually anything to directly contradict the idea that David remembered Xander at this point, if you get a bit creative with it. Just because David "doesn't think they've met before" doesn't mean that he doesn't know who Xander is, and being "genuinely honored" could have been more genuine than most people interpreted.

There are only two points of contention, the first of which being that David calls Xander "sir." That does read more as David not knowing who he is-- he doesn't call Xander "Xander" even though Teruko already said Xander's name. However, depending on how highly David thought of Xander in the past-- because he certainly seems to think highly of Xander in the present-- David might have wanted to call him "sir" at first as a sign of formality and respect, before getting Xander's permission to be on a first name basis. Even if Xander still calls him Mr. David.

(Goddamn I typed Xander so many times in that paragraph)

The other weird point is when David says "anything for a fan" in response to Xander asking for an autograph, but that's far more excusable. Like, Xander is a massive fan of his, so calling Xander a fan is reasonable. David might have been happy that such a cool guy as Xander was a fan of his, and was stressing that fact out of delight. Or, this is after Teruko caught him slipping, so he could have also reverted into default customer service mode and said that in a more scripted mindset.

Meanwhile, in the scene where David approaches Teruko and Xander after Nico flees the lunch table...

... I CAN'T BELIEVE WE FUCKING MISSED THIS.

Do you see that? Do you see where David says "in person"? That strongly implies that David knew Xander not in person prior to the killing game. Good god, it's been there all along.

Other than that, the scene is full of David being embarrassed at Xander speaking highly of him, David speaking highly of Xander, and, of course, the mutual "you're my idol" moment. Dude, I thought that David was just gaslight gatekeep girlbossing here. You're telling me that everything he was saying about thinking that Xander was the coolest guy on earth was legit? Unreal.

Anyways, I don't have the time to rewatch, like, the entire first Trial to check up on every little comment David makes, but I find that comment about knowing Xander in person definite enough to conclude that David knew who Xander was since the very start of the killing game, not that he remembered something about Xander along the way.

How exactly David knew about Xander is still up in the air. I know that Microphony has a theory that David remembered Xander from their time together at Hope's Peak, and while it's a great theory and I don't doubt that the two did go to Hope's Peak together, I have a bit of a hard time believing that. My only holdup is that I feel like letting David remember Hope's Peak would be too powerful, and having him remember being with Xander at Hope's Peak while remembering nothing else about his time there is too... like, specific? Nit-picky? I don't have the word, but I hope you understand what I mean.

Instead, I think that David might remember what Xander did in response to the North C and Chariton incident that presumably earned him the title of Ultimate Rebel. That makes more sense to me as something that would make David idolize Xander in the same way that Xander idolized him-- if David just remembers their time at school, he would probably remember Xander on more friendly terms. It would also be super convenient to have David still be alive with memories of, say, Richard Spurling, to share with the class in future chapters, now that Xander is too dead to say anything more on the subject.

Sadly, I don't remember if there's any information in Literature Girl Insane to point theories in either direction. I'm gonna have to rewatch FF's video again sometime fr.

Is David Telling the Truth?

David: We're... in a television show, after all. That's... what MonoTV said, right? "Entertainment" is an ongoing show. If Min successfully got away with the very first murder and escaped while we all died, then isn't that way less interesting for a TV show? What's the point of roping 14 other people into one murder, only to kill them all off immediately? The killer is supposed to fail and be executed. We're all supposed to catch the killer, again and again, and participate in trial after trial. You're supposed to try to survive. All of you who are trying to survive these class trials to continue living on are playing straight into MonoTV's hands. As if I'll accept that. I don't care how low I'll sink, or how despicable I'll have to become. I'll do anything to carry on Xander's ideals by ending this killing game, even if it means that I have to dirty my hands.

Firstly, I'm so glad that we're returning to the fact that this is a televised killing game! It seems like it has to be really important to whatever the lore is, so I'm glad that the students haven't artificially forgotten that fact until Chapter 6.

Secondly, I phrased this part as "is David telling the truth" because, initially, I thought that David had a different reason for lying about killing Arei. My thought was that he thought that pathetically advocating for himself would only make himself look more guilty, so he switched up tactics by making it look like so easy of a victory that people like Teruko would wind up proving his innocence themselves. Because that seemed plausible, I wanted to examine if David could have come up with this explanation on the fly. He's known for lying and should be socially savvy, so it's possible that this argument was just a red herring to conceal his true intentions.

However, given the prior section in which I argued that it really does seem like David knew and admired Xander prior to the killing game, I'm more inclined to believe that this was the true reason. Furthermore, this was a really interesting scene, and it'd be a shame to introduce such a fascinating character idea to toss it away for an "actually, he was just trying to lie about this Chapter 2 Trial."

There's also the good ol' Literature Girl Insane, for real this time. This plan reminded me so much of the "tallying votes" scene that I had to check it out for myself.

[12] “Majority rule” is known to be the fairest method of making decisions for a group. That's why murderers never complained when we voted for them to die.

The voting results definitely sound like David's plan. If he successfully made himself the killer, everyone would be executed, and while he would have "victory" over the killing game, it would certainly be a hollow one.

The 16 vote tally is still a bit more confusing, but I think you could relate it to David's plan as well. If you assume that David is the one getting all of the votes, you could say that his plan to end the killing game no matter the cost (throwing away his career, being hated by everyone, possibly even killing someone himself) might make him guilty of a crime/worthy of being voted for, whether he literally kills someone or not. Therefore, if the majority hates him and he achieves the closest thing to "victory" that he can, there's no reason for him to complain if it means he has to die. It could be his justification for why he has to fill out his mission, even if, in his heart, he doesn't want to.

I don't know if that's the explanation of footnote 12 or just an explanation with the new scenes given, but I think it's a possibility. There's also certainly far more to dive into regarding both David's worldview and the motivations behind the killing game, but if I started looking into that now, I wouldn't publish this post until way later. I'll have to leave that analysis for another time and/or another person.

Love Hu for this. At least for someone like me, who finds David's mindset sort of relatable at times, it's important to have someone around to point out the flaws of compulsive martyrdom and give a reality check that doing something wrong in the pursuit of what you think is right is still (sometimes) an utterly fucked up thing to do. They're both such good characters, and they work off each other so well.

Furthering the above point, even if David is doing it for what he believes to be "good" reasons, he's still ultimately manipulating people! You know, like his secret said!!! You don't have to believe that everyone is stupid to believe that you're smarter than them and you know what's best. But there's also the delicious irony that, despite Hu being the one to say this to David, she's also the one talking over Nico.

I am so sorry to all the whitvid shippers in the crowd. Unless this is the dynamic you crave, idk.

I wish that this line was voice acted just so that I could hear Ace's "uhh umm" Nico impression.

Are Hu and Nico Lying?

We're back at it again.

Needless to say, this is way more suspicious than J, Veronika, and David's alibi. First of all, Hu and Nico are only two people, which makes it far more believable that they could conspire on the murder together. Second, unlike the former random group of characters, this latter pair are very intertwined. And third, this supposed breakfast occurred in a private location that only Hu and Nico could have possibly seen, as opposed to J, who said she was in a public location. If Ace or whoever had been in the public Dining Room at 7:30 AM, he could have called J out for lying, whereas no one can contradict the idea of Nico and Hu being in Nico's room.

However, for Hu to be lying and for Nico to not oppose her (despite pointing out the fact that they were interrupted) would strongly imply that they'd have to be in on the plan to murder Arei together. The easiest way to get there would be to assume that they were also in on the plan to murder Ace together. Understandable enough; I'm sure we're all aware at this point that Nico and what appears to be Hu's wire were both found at the scene of the Gym crime. They could've tried to murder Ace, got caught, and then switched targets to a different bully because Ace was too on guard? Nico would have been able to grab the fish, so there's no issue there.

I'm inclined to believe that Nico and Hu are telling the truth just because I personally don't believe either of them to be Arei's blackened, and I don't understand what either of their motivations to be an accomplice specifically would be in this situation. It would be pretty hypocritical of Hu to go off on David for trying to control whether everyone else lives or dies if she was currently the blackened trying to get everyone else to die so she could live. Or, even worse, if she was an accomplice trying to get everyone else to die so that Nico could live. That'd basically be what David was trying to do with a different coat of paint!

However, this could easily be a lie, especially given how suspiciously late it was compared to what J said. We had a whole David monologue in the middle. Those things last for ages.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!

Okay, so, obviously, I could try to go over the implications of this, but with the next episode only a week away (I cry tears of joy), I think it's in my best interest to leave whatever I'll have to say about what Levi is doing until we have more information about his mindset. What a cliffhanger, though. Levi accomplice nation, it's currently looking... iffy.

Anyways, that was a fantastic episode! I loved getting a chance to learn more about Arturo, David, Xander, and the rest of the gang, with promise of more interesting things to come in the near future. I can't believe that they still haven't talked about the actual murder method at all. And that there were literally no trial mechanics in this video. Who needs 'em?

I hope you enjoyed my perspective on the episode. If you have any additions or questions, feel free to send me a comment or an ask. There's also a chance that I'll add onto this myself after seeing other people's ideas to respond to them. But for that, I'll have to read other people's ideas. I'm off to see what my mutuals have to say >:D See ya!

[holeforzenin]

A short storytime about me and my best friend!!

we’ve been best friends since we were 14 and back then he wasn’t the best looking guy and was a hardcore nerd so he never had a lot of friends that were girls till I came into his life and fast forward to now, in those 5 years of knowing him— I’m still the only female friend he has and we’re extremely close like if I asked him to wipe my ass he’d do it without any hesitation type of close. I was his first everything, the first girl he liked, first relationship, first kiss, first everything.

LIKE HES NOT GOING ANYWHERE YALL I PROMISEEEEE and he changed so much over the years he’s been working out for like 3 years now and he made so much progress like he changed so much and what makes me happy is the fact that he’s not one of those guys that starts working out and change to look better then immediately starts whoring around and getting girls and forgetting who’s been there since day one, yk what I mean? It’s been just me and him since we were 14

The reason we’re not together rn is bc we made a mutual decision to not be in a relationship because he’s busy training to be a firefighter and I go to college and I’m studying to be a software engineer so it’s DIFFICULT AND OVERSTIMULATING OVERR HERE. But we have this certain type of bond where we tell each other everything, we communicate well and we’re very understanding of each other like I’m his main friend and he is my main friend and we’ve been friends for more than 5 years now so it’s been a while

And I’ve tried talking to other guys before but no matter what they could never meet the standard that he has set for me, he pays for me everywhere we go and eat, he’s so understanding also he’s a lovely man and his family loves me and he’s soo respectful and nice yall like I can never get tired of him. And he has so much patience with me, it’s like when I’m with him I don’t have to use my brain he just does everything for me

Also sexually speaking, we’re friends with benefits so don’t worry y’all I do get that firefighter dick time to time. But he’s submissive not some hardcore dominant dude like toji💔💔which is okay with me because I don’t mind, he’s the reason why I’d only date a submissive guy irl like he’s the reason for my WHOLE type and he does everything I say and I talk him through it so it’s fun ig like it’s so hot that he’s so big and tall yet I still need to guide him where the hole is :3

And I wanna show what he looks like but he doesn’t know what I do on tumblr and I don’t want to disrespect him like that but he’s so handsome, he has long hair wavy hair to his shoulders and his hair deadass looks like geto and eren bc he always has it in a bun, HE HAS THATTT HAIR CUTT and looks like a mixture of heath ledger and Goku 😭 and he’s 5’11 and he’s JACKED LIKE He used to be kinda chubby but he lost weight and he has so much muscles nowwww and it’s so sexy bc he literally towers over him and he once lifted me up in the air and ate me my pussy just like that while he held me up with his arms.

AND AND HE’S STILL A FUCKING NERD!!! He plays Pokémon go and pet simulator ON ROBLOX at his grown ass age BUT I LOVE HIM AND I SWEAR YALL WE WILL GET MARRIED AND ALL OF YOU BETTER COME TO MY DAMN WEDDING. I AM PAYINF FOR PLANE TICKETS DW!!! THAT MAN IS NOT GOING ANYWHEREEEEE. He does not and will not fw any girl that isn’t me.😭

In conclusion, my best friend is the reason why I still have hope that they are still good men in the world and i honestly don't even think I deserve a man like him.

[heartburriedinvenice]

the end is undeniably near (and i keep running towards it) - steve h.

(steve harrington x hopper!reader)

a part of my phoebe challenge 🎞🪐💌🕯

based on the song "i know the end" by phoebe bridgers

in which you always wanted to escape hawkins, indiana, until you didn't anymore.

or

in which the billboard said "the end is near"

content warning post season 3 (SO SPOILERS), mild cursing (maybe), ANGST like the whole time, unhealthy coping, and hawkins being hawkins, reader is an implied theater kid (im sorry not sorry)

a / n i disappeared on y’all, I’m sorry!! you know life is getting weird when i randomly return to tumblr.  just dipping my toes back in the water of all this so i apologize if i am a little rusty. this is just a piece of a hopper!reader show rewrite that has been in the works for a while so if anyone likes it enough, lmk, I’d be be happy to start posting the whole thing,starting from season 1! any feedback would be awesome (and also requests cause I need inspo back). okay enjoy some angst!

No one ever got out of Hawkins, Indiana. Like the town was somehow enclosed within some heavy-duty bubble, only a few people ever got the nerves to squeeze through. Until you did, until you did the one thing you believed was impossible. You packed your bags, loaded up your car, and left hell. And you did it without a goodbye because the only way to do the impossible was without one. And deep down you knew you were a coward, even after fighting monsters and otherworldly creatures, you were a coward. You could not face what was left behind or allow yourself to acknowledge it.

And it ate away at you in a way you could have never imagined. Too busy pretending like it never crossed your mind, like Hawkins never existed in the first place. Still, it chipped at you piece by piece until the guilt of escaping Hawkins, Indiana finally caught up with you. Until one day that guilt would sneak up and trip you, sending you tumbling all the way back down a hill to only land right back at the gates of Hawkins, at its green sign, Welcome to Hawkins! That warm welcome, the warmest welcome, with its murders and second dimensions and its people. Those people. Those people who worked their way so deep into your heart before you could even realize it. So deep that leaving felt like removing deeply grown roots from a garden, so impossible, so hard to tell where they even stopped growing.  You weren’t sure entirely when they grew so deep, you don’t really remember at all how they got there. When you let them? Why did you let them? After everything, you should have known better. You shouldn’t have let them.

You were fifteen when you knew you could never live in Hawkins, Indiana your whole life. It never felt real, artificial, fake. Mass-produced nuclear families and white picket fence houses and stale dead-end jobs. 

And then Steve Harrington needed an extra art credit and found his way as the lead in Hawkins High’s production of Romeo and Juliet. When rehearsing turned into giving Steve girl advice and driving with him to drop off flowers. When running lines became swinging a bat of nails and finding an alien in a fridge. When the day before the play performance had turned into icing Steve's bruises on your couch as you ran lines back and forth because neither of you could sleep. When a whole group of middle schoolers sat in the front row and your dad sat center with a bouquet of flowers. They were your family. Your strange and messy family all pretending to be interested in the gibberish mess of Shakespeare on stage. Them watching with stifled laughs as Steve stumbled through lines, as the balcony scene turned into him and you having a staring contest trying to figure out whose lines were next. And though your director would have your heads later, the two of you sat giggling during intermission and had to hold the laughter again when your director asked why you didn’t have time to be memorized to perfection. Because you had all the time in the world, didn’t you?. 

Unbelievable as it was, you began to question what you at fifteen had promised you would do. Because you had found more than stale every day Hawkins. You had found their odd-balls who taught you to play Dungeons and Dragons in their basement, who reminded you so much of your sister. And you had found Steve Harrington, a pretty boy with a heart of gold, who risked his life for his Juliet that night at the mall. Who held you tight when it all got too much.

When you moved back to Hawkins, Indiana, after Sara, after your parents split, you were sure life would never be the same again. You needed a fresh start, to completely reconfigure your life and pretend none of what had happened had happened. That you never had a sister, that your dad hadn’t completely changed, burrowing himself under alcohol and late shifts. That your mom wasn’t actively trying to forget and build another life over the one that had been left abandoned in that New York apartment. You were so sure you would have to move on, cut it all out the minute you graduated from high school. You were sure you had to escape on your rickety old bike right out of town.

Then things happened and somehow you found yourself again, found your father again as you sat together for your first Christmas dinner in years. Celebrating the return of the young Will Byers and the return of something else, something more, something familiar and warm. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was yours. You saw your father again for the first time in years that night, Christmas Eve, sitting on the porch as light snow fell and hit your heads, bundled in warm jackets, pretending the coffee you made was not mediocre at best. The police chief and his daughter, a messy duo. And that was perfect to you.

And then things happened again and again and again and finally everything just shattered.

And you left. You did what you had always hoped to do. But you didn’t feel the pride you had thought you would feel when you dreamed it at fifteen. You weren’t heading towards a new life, you were sitting in a stuffy apartment in the city. You were stuck again at what felt like the beginning. Unable to go with the Byers, you immediately made other plans, back at the apartment you had spent so many nights trying to forget. 

No one ever got out of Hawkins, Indiana. Like the town was somehow enclosed within some heavy-duty bubble, only a few people ever got the nerves to squeeze through. Until you did, until you did the one thing you believed was impossible. You packed your bags, loaded up your car, and left hell. And you did it without a goodbye because the only way to do the impossible was without one. And deep down you knew you were a coward, even after fighting monsters and otherworldly creatures, you were a coward. You could not face what was left behind or allow yourself to acknowledge it.

And it ate away at you in a way you could have never imagined or wanted to imagine. Too busy pretending like it never crossed your mind, like Hawkins never existed in the first place. Still, it chipped at you piece by piece until the guilt of escaping Hawkins, Indiana finally caught up with you. Until one day that guilt would sneak up and trip you, sending you tumbling all the way back down a hill to only land right back at the gates of Hawkins, at its green sign, Welcome to Hawkins! That warm welcome, the warmest welcome, with its murders and second dimensions and its people. Those people. Those people who worked their way so deep into your heart before you could even realize it. So deep that leaving felt like removing deeply grown roots from a garden, so impossible, so hard to tell where they even stopped growing.  You weren’t sure entirely when they grew so deep, you don’t really remember at all how they got there. When you let them? Why did you let them? After everything, you should have known better. You shouldn’t have let them.

You were fifteen when you knew you could never live in Hawkins, Indiana your whole life. It never felt real, artificial, fake. Mass-produced nuclear families and white picket fence houses and stale dead-end jobs. 

And then Steve Harrington needed an extra art credit and found his way as the lead in Hawkins High’s production of Romeo and Juliet. When rehearsing turned into giving Steve girl advice and driving with him to drop off flowers. When running lines became swinging a bat of nails and finding an alien in a fridge. Or jumping into a hole in the ground and lighting up never-ending tunnels of vines straight from those horror movies you used to watch with your sister. When the day before the play performance had turned into icing Steve's bruises on your couch as you ran lines back and forth because neither of you could sleep. When a whole group of middle schoolers sat in the front row and your dad sat center with a crumble bouquet of flowers. They were your family. Your strange and messy family all pretending to be interested in the gibberish mess of Shakespeare on stage. Them watching with stifled laughs as Steve stumbled through lines, as the balcony scene turned into him and you having a staring contest trying to figure out whose lines were next. And though your director would have your heads later, the two of you sat giggling during intermission and had to hold the laughter again when your director asked why you didn’t have time to be memorized to perfection. Because you had all the time in the world, didn’t you?. 

Unbelievable as it was, you began to question what you at fifteen had promised you would do. Because you had found more than stale every day Hawkins, you had found their odd-balls who taught you to play Dungeons and Dragons in their basement who reminded you so much of your sister. And you had found Steve Harrington, a pretty boy with a heart of gold, who risked his life for his Juliet that night at the mall, pulling you up when you twisted your ankle running up a flight of stairs and getting you out to paramedics when it was over. Icing your ankle and holding you when it all got too much. When you watched everyone exit the mall but the only real family you felt like you had left. When the police told you your fathers body couldn’t be found, buried under ash and grime in the mall fire. That he was the hero, that he saved your lives sacrificing himself. 

When you moved back to Hawkins, Indiana, after Sara, after your parents split, you were sure life would never be the same again. You needed a fresh start, to completely reconfigure your life and pretend none of what had happened had happened. That you never had a sister, that your dad hadn’t completely changed, burrowing himself under alcohol and late shifts. That your mom wasn’t actively trying to forget and build another life over the past one that had been left abandoned in that New York apartment, calling only for holidays and those important life events she was so sad she had to miss. You were so sure you would have to move on, cut it all out the minute you graduated from high school. You were sure you had to escape on your rickety old bike right out of town.

Then things happened and somehow you found yourself again, found your father again as you sat together for their first Christmas dinner in years. Celebrating the return of the young Will Byers and the return of something else, something more, something familiar and warm. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was steps in a direction. You saw your father again for the first time in years that night, Christmas Eve, sitting on the porch as light snow fell and hit your heads, bundled in warm jackets, pretending the coffee you made was not mediocre at best. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something for the two of you. The police chief and his daughter, a messy duo. And that was perfect to you.

And then things happened again and again and again and finally everything just shattered.

And you left. You did what you had always hoped to do. But you didn’t feel the pride you had thought you would feel when you dreamed it at fifteen. You weren’t heading towards a new life, you were sitting in a stuffy apartment in the city. You were stuck again at what felt like the beginning. Unable to go with the Byers, you immediately made other plans, back at the apartment you had spent so many nights trying to forget. 

Spring of 1986, the New York apartment was driving you insane. You felt like you might start running up the walls if you didn’t get out soon. At least that would be ten times more interesting than sitting and watching your Step-Dad watch golf—a sport you didn't understand. Seeing how bored you were, he tried to explain it, but you didn't process a single word he was saying.

You didn’t want to have something with him, you didn’t want a thing you bonded over and you especially didn’t want that thing to be golf.

You debated moving, you debated being drastic and dying your hair to make your mom upset but what good would that do other than feed the part in yourself that no longer cared, no longer wanted to care. Everything you cared about had slipped from your grasp, had disappeared, no matter how tightly you clutched it was gone.

Fuck.

You stared at the wallpaper, one you knew your mom had probably gushed over at the store and chosen. And you glanced at the patterned carpet, and the family picture you were not in. And even though they all reassured you that you were family, deep down you knew you had uprooted their whole routine. You especially saw it in your moms eyes when she looked at you a little too long, a constant reminder of what she had lost all those years ago.  

You listened to the busy city traffic below the apartment and the sound of wailing sirens you had completely become ignorant of after you lived in Hawkins so long. You glanced at the kitchen, the sink with no dishes and a fridge actually filled with food that wasn’t leftover take-out, mediocre pasta you had cooked, or boxes of Eggos. And you looked at the man beside you, silent, watching golf. It was all so different.

Every day it remained that way, your mom got home from work late, your stepfather came home before you got back from school, and then Liam, your step brother would come home.

He made it all a little more bearable. The littlest but only because he reminded you of home. He reminded you of Dungeons and Dragons in Mike Wheeler's basement, and your found sister, and the party that always had you on your toes. But even you could not warm up to the boy because he would never be them. And it was unfair. It was cruel of you to make comparisons between Hawkins and New York, to allow that to shut out the only family you now had. But it was one habit you could not seem to break no matter how hard you tried.

Hawkins, Indiana was quiet, it was small. Hawkins, Indiana was both a breath of fresh air and a tightening grip that had you gasping, clawing for a second to breathe. New York was loud, so loud that the sounds of sirens and blaring car horns became only white noise in your head. It was big, not big in the welcoming and warming way. Not big in the feeling of catching sight of a friend in a crowded room. It was big in the way you could not point out a single person at school that you had seen more than once.  It was big in a way similar to that of being alone in the middle of a large party. It was so big that being alone in a quiet, dark, empty room would feel the same as walking amidst the large crowds on the street.

And New York didn’t have Steve Harrington. New York didn’t have crazy kids and weird aliens, New York didn’t have Robin Buckley or Nancy Wheeler or Jonathan Byers, New York didn’t have comforting hugs from Joyce, and New York didn’t have your dad and it never would again. The thought of it was enough to make you sick, nausea filling every inch of your body, barely able to swallow down the fact. But you would swallow it down like you always did, like you did everything else.

Your mom would always tell you you could talk to her if you needed to, that no matter how long you were a part she still cared about you. But you still remember the look on her face when you had turned up at the apartment after all those years. Finally back together face to face, the only words she was able to muster was, “you grew up”. 

You kept busy filling the days with nothing. On a good day Liam would show you some project he did in class that day, him seemingly the most unbothered by your move-in. And your stepdad, Bill, would ask you how school was to which you would reply fine. It was fine, it would always be just fine.

And you would stare at the phone on the wall in the kitchen. Dialing and hanging up and dialing and hanging up, hearing him pick up and then slamming the phone down, falling back into the chair at the kitchen table. Sometimes he would call back, you knew he caught on, you would just listen as the phone rang, head in your hands. You couldn’t face it, it was all too much and answering that call, hearing that voice would only throw it all back at you at once. It would knock you down and hold you there as you tried to gain control of the emotions you had locked up so tight once again. You felt sick to your stomach once again and the feeling spread, it spread all throughout your body, all the way to your fingertips and toes. For the first time in your life, you begged your body to just throw up, hoping the feelings would go along with it, until the pit in your stomach was completely washed away. 

It was this sinking feeling every time you heard the phone ring and as much as you wanted to convince yourself otherwise, you weren’t sure if you would ever pick up. Maybe you would just forget about it all. But it was hard when your mind was plagued with images of creatures you could only describe as otherworldly and when every time you looked at yourself in the mirror before a shower your eyes would draw focus to the deep cut scars that littered your body. You would never truly escape Hawkins, Indiana, it was impossible, and it would follow you around until you finally gave up and went back. But you refused to allow it to have that control, until you picked up the phone…by accident.

It was late, a Saturday evening of all things. Your mother was working late that weekend, your step dad was asleep on the couch, and your step brother had abandoned his books on the table and gone to bed. And the phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing, over and over in repeated increments. One call, two minutes passed, another call, three minutes had passed, and a third call with three minutes passing and on and on and on-

“Will you turn the damn thing off!” Yelled the man on the couch, whose deep sleeping was even disturbed by your past trying to creep back in. 

And it worried you, as you apologized and turned back to the phone, head aching from the noise. It worried you because every time before, the phone would ring one, maybe two times before the line went silent. But tonight, you had lost track of just how many times you had slammed the phone down to stop the ringing.

You looked up at the phone again, quiet for much too long, longer than before and RING. RING. RING.

The grunt of your step father filled the empty room and without a second thought, not wanting another lecture from your mom about not getting along with him, you reached for the phone line. Slowly placing it against your ear, you instantly pulled it back as a voice blasted through, louder than the ringing of the phone itself. “Goddammit! please pick up the phone-”

“Hey,” was all you said, it was faint and quiet in contrast, laced with guilt that had piled up from months of avoidance and pretending Hawkins didn’t exist. But it was loud enough to stop the yelling as murmurs and whispers filled the background of wherever your caller was calling from. 

Your Steve Harrington, your Romeo who deserved answers. After everything you had been through he deserved something from you that you had failed to deliver.

“Oh thank god, you don’t know how happy I am to hear your voice,” and what you expected to be anger was anything but, rather the clearest sound of overwhelming relief. Relief that all came crashing down the minute he spoke his next words. “You need to get back here, like... like-“

The sound of struggling came from their end of the phone and your heart rate sped up in a panic, only realizing how tightly you were holding the phone to your ear.

Dustin’s voice quickly came through the line, a complaining Steve evident in the back, “like right now, like ASAP, like as soon as possible.”

Dustin’s voice, his tone did nothing to loosen your grip on the phone, nothing to ease your panic and you almost slammed the phone down again. Back home, back in the familiar, back to memories of people that haunted your every thought. You wondered if they had called the Byers, your sister, you wondered if she was there too. 

“We can pay your bus ticket, but I can’t really explain like this and we just, we need your help,” Dustin practically cried. “We all need you. We can’t let anyone get hurt again.”

That was all you needed. Hawkins had a pull on you, a force you tried to ignore but eventually pulled you back anyways. Steve was back on the line soon after, you already scribbling a note to your mom, phone pressed against your ear by your shoulder. And when you heard his voice again your breath caught in your throat…it seemed to always do that with him.

“Steve, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“No, but, Steve I really, just…I don’t know where to start,” you tried to explain, losing any of the words you had planned to say while lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling. 

“You don’t have to,” he simply said. But you knew you would, you had too many words to speak. “Just show up, just be here. We need you, even if you don’t believe me. It’s getting crazy again.”

Hawkins would never not be.

“I will be,” you reassured, really reassured. “I will be, I promise.”

And if everyone in Hawkins knew something, you never broke a promise, never. You got close sometimes, sometimes it seemed like you would, but you always met your end of the bargain. You said you would be back in Hawkins, Indiana and you would be. Setting the phone down back on it's holder with a quiet click, you jumped from your chair in the kitchen, as the wood chair quietly screeched against the floor. Open and close, open and close, the drawers in the kitchen were opening and closing until you found a tape role, cutting away a piece. Grabbing your note off the counter, you secured the piece to it and stuck it against the fridge where it would be noticed by your mom.

She would know what it meant, you knew she knew all along, that New York hadn’t been your home in a long time. That Hawkins had grown into something much deeper than you could have ever anticipated. And even then, in that kitchen, in that busy city…you knew, the end was near

[glitterjay]

This is kinda like a funny silly request but maybe y/n pranking enhypen like she pranks them with like slamming the car door (sorry if that’s confusing I think there is tik toks that can give you a better visual 😭)

⭒ fluff, ot7

⭒ c's note: i think I know what you mean jfkds. reblogs are appreciated!

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks

heeseung had invited you to a party and even offered to give you a ride on his car. once you reached the destination, he got out first, saying he'd open the door for you. it was your perfect chance to get out on your own as he circled the back of the car, and slam the door with force. he stood there perplexed as you tried to contain a straight face, but gave up when he stayed frozen in place. heeseung tried to scold you for "damaging" his car, but eventually started laughing with you, admitting you caught him this once.

jay was taking you on a peaceful car ride around town, carpooling and having a lot of fun in general. it took him by surprise when you slammed the door as you were getting off the car when he pulled over at the park. he got off quickly, looking for signs of discomfort in your eyes, but was greeted instead with a mischievous laugh. he caught on to it being a prank quite fast, and only laughed to himself finding your humor adorable.

you and jake were on your way to an amusement park that had opened in the city. you two were quite excited so he didn't take it bad when you got out of the car and slammed the door. to be completely honest, you had forgotten about the prank, slamming the door being your genuine reaction due to the rush of adrenaline you felt at that moment.

sunghoon had offered you both ate at a restaurant on this occasion, just for the fun of it. he was indeed startled when you slammed the door of his car as you got off, but he had seen a few videos like this on the internet, so he didn't take it at heart. he knew he was right the moment you looked back at him giggling, making him laugh back with you. he appreciated the moment of joy you brought to his life, even if the pranks "damaged" his car.

sunoo gasped in surprised when you slammed the door of his car when he dropped you off back home. he got out of the car and followed you, worried he might've done or said something that upset you. you tried to keep your facade up but gave up when you saw how genuinely worried he was, reassuring it was a prank and apologizing for scaring him.

jungwon would be quite startled as well when you slammed the door without saying anything. you tried to stay mysterious about it, but the confusing looks he gave you were quite funny, making you giggle. he caught on to this whole thing being a prank, only shaking his head and laughing to himself finding you cute.

ni-ki had gotten a car not very long ago, and it was basically his eyes. to celebrate such achievement, he invited you to take a stroll with him around town. once it was time to drop you off at your house, you bid your goodbye to him and slammed the door a little too hard on purpose. ni-ki was caught off guard by the behavior, quickly rolling down the windows to ask what was wrong. he had a shocked face when you told him it was a prank, laughing more when he started scolding you for messing with his new car. he was definitely getting back at you one day.

© glitterjay | tumblr

[valentine-cafe]

[ i sent the request earlier not knowing about the pre-order system. other than being a first time customer, it's also my first time requesting on Tumblr… like, ever. my apologies for not being careful, i should have looked a little better at the guide. ^^; i'm re-sending my request (to my best recollection of it + some revisions) hopefully appropriately this time, if it's alright. i hope you will still consider - but i understand if not. thank you regardless. 🙇‍♂️ ]

may i have an affogato please?

[ amab reader ]

i can't even begin to explain how much Vespasiano has a hold on my thoughts upon reading about him, but i was intrigued to see in one of the receipts that he's still getting used to being with a man. and it had me wondering: what's it like in his mind, falling in love with a man for the first time? is it something he has known before but never indulged? or is it something he never considered until now?

can be fluffy and light-hearted, or slow burn and/or excessive yearning. might also throw in an inner conflict about his past experience of being scorned by love? however either of you feel best to explore the idea.

this is also optional, but i think it would be interesting as well if the apple of his eye was a fellow military man - if it's in character.

if it's too big of an ask or anything, feel free to ignore.

thank you! :'>

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : affogato !! . . . vampire ⊹ male reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔​​​​​​​﹕verse 781 ꮽ  vespasiano agresta caliari

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀﹕a charismatic, vampiric lieutenant. with years of experience turning his hair grey and a sharp eye

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... vespasiano falling in love with another man at the military ⊹ cw ٬٬ vesp going through denial . first times falling in love with the same sex . confused vespasiano . just soft :,))

You've known Vespasiano since he joined the military. As such, you've seen his whole story with that . . . hag. From the moment you discovered he was on and off with her — from the moment she tried to hit on you during an event, you knew he was setting himself up for failure. And then he went along and married her? You could only grieve for the kind man you've come to know as friend. You saw it all, the breaks, the divorce, the fights over the phone when he's around base and seconds from deployment. Everyone in your squadron were well aware of Vespasiano and his marriage issues. Even long after his kids had grown into adulthood, Ilaria seemed to be a constant in his life. No matter how much he tried to push her away.

But then, something funny happened. In all of Vespasiano's hurt and his final attempt to stay away from her . . . he - started seeing you in a new light. One that frightened him. Suddenly your support, comfort and kindness hit him deeper than it did before.

He denied it at first. For all his life he's known himself as straight. Even when he was on off periods with Ilaria, he distracted himself with other woman but this. This was different. Maybe he was just lonely, maybe he was just hurt. There's no way he was falling in love with a man.

Not that there's anything wrong with it in his eyes. His brother's gay and he's raised a bisexual son. His favourite nephew has a boyfriend too. It's not that it's just — shouldn't he have figured this out by now? He's in his sixties for crying out loud, isn't it too late for this self discovery?

He feels nothing but shame when your little hug meant more to him than just solidarity. When you making sure he ate before deployments flustered him. The time he helped you out with weapon positioning and he was so, so close to you. The urge he had to hold you. Was that wrong? It felt wrong.

You saw how distant he'd become and offered him to grab a bite to eat. The flush of his face embarrassed him ten times and over. Was that a date? No! You'd done this before. It's just you being a good co-worker. He's your Lieutenant for crying out loud.

But why was he wanting to hold your hand beneath the table? Why couldn't he stop looking at you? Every time you laughed his heart fluttered and for once he hadn't touched his food. You grew even more concerned.

"Is it Ilaria again?" No, it hasn't been Ilaria for awhile now. In fact he hasn't thought about her in who knows how long. But how does he tell you this? How does he even come out with it?

He speaks to his brother, Pietro. Who looked over with his husband, both wide eyed. They explained what was happening and he vehemently denied . . . Pietro only smiled and sighed. "You'll come to the acceptance eventually."

Maybe he'd just die with this feeling and these thoughts. He couldn't do it, not with the conflict and shame he felt.

What he was so blissfully unaware of is the fact the rest of your squadron had already pieced the puzzle together — and are now more than determined on OPERATION: Lieutenant Happiness.

꒰ ۪ ˖ ࣪ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 ... info ꮽ mlist ꮽ verse ꮽ wiki .

[comphy-and-cozy]

Miss possessive - Anthony Beauvillier

Pairing: Anthony Beauvillier x f!OC (I ALMOST DO universe)

Summary: Amelie manages her feelings about another girl flirting with Anthony.

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Alcohol use, sexual themes/tension, a little bump n grind, implied smut

Author’s Note: First fic for the so close to what fic series! I'm so excited to share this collection with y'all and what better way to start than with Tumblr's favorite French Canadian cutie? This will be a copy & paste on every single fic in this series, but HUGE shout out to @senditcolton for all of your help plotting and brainstorming! I love sharing a brain with you 😘🫶🏼

← FIRST PART ← BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST ← BACK TO 'SO CLOSE TO WHAT' MASTERLIST

Anthony’s hand brushed her waist, his mouth close to her ear amid the loud, thrumming bass around them. “I’m going to get another drink. You want one?”

Amelie nodded, opting to remain out on the dance floor under the flashing lights. The gin and tonics had kicked in, and all she really wanted to do was keep dancing. It was her first night out in a long time, being unable to take much of a break after starting her new position, and it felt so good to let loose.

Anthony had invited her out with a few of his teammates; they’d just had a Saturday night OT win and had the next day off, and everyone was going, he’d said. Amelie, while her pile of to-do’s wasn’t getting any smaller, told herself that she deserved—no, needed—a break, and soon enough she was meeting him out at one of Pittsburgh’s hottest bars.

Ever since she’d texted him after his new contract, Anthony and Amelie had patched up their relationship, their frayed ends weaving back together, falling back into place with ease. They started spending time together, though now, Anthony’s schedule was the lighter one; Amelie was busy working long hours researching and preparing court documents as an associate attorney. More often than not, Anthony was coming over with takeout to make sure she ate dinner or he was bringing her lunch at work, but occasionally she’d have time to sneak away to attend a gathering with him and a few of his teammates.

One time, she even had time to go to a game. Anthony beamed when she told him—he’d been asking her for weeks, but she could never find a night to make it work—and he even scored a goal.

They still hadn’t had a conversation defining exactly what their relationship was. It felt like two friends reuniting, re-familiarizing themselves with someone who used to fit just right. But there was no denying there was still a spark between them, a low flame still burning from all those years ago.

Amelie came out of her reverie, realizing she was still out on the dance floor, an empty, sweating drink in her hand. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been lost in thought, but she must have danced long enough that her mouth was feeling a bit parched. She remembered that Anthony had left to grab her another drink, and her eyes scanned the bar for that familiar head of curls.

And that’s when she saw her.

Katey, the friend of Hayesie’s wife, Katya, who everyone knew had a crush on Anthony. She was lovely, a really nice girl, but Amelie couldn’t help but feel her heart twist when she saw her talking to him. She’d kept her jealousy to herself, not sure if broaching it would cross an invisible line that they had set regarding their relationship.

But tonight? Fueled by jealousy and no shortage of gin, she was feeling a bit feisty.

She made her way through the throng of people, dragging her fingers over the fabric on his back as she approached them. Katey was leaned into him, her pretty blue eyes batting up at him.

“How’s that drink coming, mon chou?” Amelie purred, loudly enough for Katey to hear it. Anthony froze at the pet name, one he hadn’t heard in years, certainly not from her mouth.

He cleared his throat, looking around. “Should be up any minute.”

“Great,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Then she offered Katey a smile. “Hi, Katey. It’s so good to see you! Can you believe I’m out?”

Katey’s expression was less than enthused that her moment was interrupted, Amelie effectively shutting that door closed. But she returned the smile anyways. “Oh my god! I can’t believe you finally made it out! Beau must be so excited to have you here.”

Amelie watched Katey’s eyes flick to Anthony’s, like she was gauging his reaction. He laughed nervously and nodded, but Amelie cut in. “Oh, I’m not too sure about that—I’m going to cost him a fair bit of cash paying for all of my drinks.”

It was a subtle flex, an announcement of the arrangement for the evening, that he was paying her tab tonight. It left the unspoken understanding that, yes, they were there together, and yes, Katey was intruding on their night.

She did her best to communicate all of that with her eyes, not caring too much that she might look like a bit of a possessive bitch. He was her Anthony, after all.

Katey laughed at Amelie’s self-deprecating joke, eyes shifting to the bartender who was finally approaching with their drinks. Anthony thanked him, handing Amelie’s glass to her; she resisted the urge to shiver at the way their fingers brushed. Katey accepted hers as well, then said, “I’ll close out my tab.”

Another subtle response—a test to see if Anthony would offer to pick it up. It was a bold one, considering it only gave him a split second to react before the bartender walked away, and sure enough, Anthony simply sipped at his drink as the bartender nodded and asked for the name it was under.

Amelie’s heart flushed with satisfaction, and she rewarded herself with a long sip of her drink. “It was good to see you, Katey—sorry I didn’t chat more. I’ve just been wanting to dance!” Then, she turned to face Anthony. “Dance with me?”

She resisted the urge to turn around and watch Katey’s face as Anthony allowed Amelie to tug him back toward the dance floor. He laughed disbelievingly when she stopped somewhere in the middle, her body pressed up against his. “What was that about?”

Amelie pretended not to hear him, taking another long swig of her drink and allowing the gin to guide her hips to the beat of the music. Naturally, it led her hips to his, and the proximity of his chest to hers made her forget all about Katey. Her eyes looked into his, the familiar blue irises gazing at her like they were the only thing in the world.

Just as she felt her head tilting forward, the song shifted around them into something more sensual, and Amelie allowed her hips to slow, rolling against him in the dim light. She told herself it was the gin that made her turn, pressing her back to his front. And maybe it was the vodka in his own glass that made his free hand slink around to the side of her waist, anchoring her to him as their bodies melded together.

The heat of his firm, warm body against hers made Amelie dizzy, the rich scent of his cologne invading her senses and intoxicating her even more. Her waist ground against him, a heady desire weaving its way through her system. It had been so long since he'd touched her like this, and now that she felt it again she realized why it never worked with anyone else. Why she was never even interested in anyone else.

Anthony’s skin against hers was electric, sparks igniting from his fingertips digging into the exposed skin of her midriff from where her top had ridden up—or had he pulled it up himself?

His name rested on the tip of her tongue, threatening to slip out. But then she felt the ghost of his lips against her shoulder blade, the slightest tickle from his moustache against her skin, and instead it was a sigh that made its way out.

She wasn’t sure if he heard, or noticed, until she felt his lips curl up into a small smile. It sent a rush of butterflies through her system. Admittedly, there was a fair amount of gin in her system, too, but she told herself it was the beat of butterfly wings in her chest that propelled her to spin around and press her mouth to his.

Anthony wasn’t surprised; he was ready for her lips—he’d been waiting for them. It surprised him how quickly she melted into him, her body immediately recognizing his and molding to his form. His arms moved quickly up her back, wrapping around her middle to hug her into him, uncaring that they were in the middle of a crowded room. Electricity raced between their bodies at the touch, igniting that smallest flame that never died even after all the years apart.

He didn’t know how long that they’d been kissing, only that her hands were in his hair and his lips felt almost swollen with passion. He ached to keep kissing her, to make up for all of the time they’d spent apart, not kissing, but he forced himself to come back to earth.

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured into her ear, pressing against her body to gently direct her out of the crowd. She followed his lead, allowing their fingers to twine together as they made their way through the throng.

Anthony was inclined to select an Uber pick-up near an alleyway that he could duck into and keep his body pressed against her, tasting her lips; to his dismay, it was raining, so he had no choice but to stand beside her in the bar’s vestibule, pretending that his entire body wasn’t buzzing like he just scored a game-winning goal.

Amelie missed his body heat inside the Uber, her fingers itching to reach over the empty middle seat for his hand that rested on his thigh. God, his thigh. He’d grown into his body so much since they’d been together and it felt so fucking good against hers. Her mouth practically watered at the thought of each rigid line of muscle she was hopeful to run her fingers over.

He sent over a shy smile, one that broke into a broader grin when Amelie couldn’t help but smile back. It struck her that she hadn’t even thought about whether or not she should be doing this; it just felt… right. Like they were always going to end up here, somehow. Like maybe she, too, was waiting for everything to fall back into place.

Anthony’s apartment was closer to the bar, so it was his living room they practically stumbled into, kissing sloppily, his key badge beeping beneath Amelie’s waist at the front door. The place wasn’t as familiar to her—they spent most of their time at her apartment—but something about it still felt like home.

With the time away from her mouth, Anthony had a moment to break her spell yet again as he locked his door. He blinked, thinking to himself he should slow things down despite every ounce of his body screaming at him to pull her straight into the bedroom. This was Amelie—he couldn’t fuck this up.

“D’you… want a glass of wine?”

Amelie nodded, and he used the time he took to pour two glasses of Merlot to will his blood to cool from its near scorching temperature. She was sitting on his couch when he turned around; he thought to himself how right she looked sitting there, accepting the glass from him.

“You gonna tell me what that whole show was about earlier?”

Amelie brought her gaze down, feeling shy and slightly embarrassed at the memory of her tequila-fueled jealous rampage. “She’s always flirting with you.”

“And that bothers you?”

“Does it bother you?”

A wry smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. “I asked you first.”

“You’re my Anthony,” she said plainly. He felt his heart let out a sigh at the statement, so simple, like it was obvious.

“Am I still?”

“Always.”

Anthony hummed, doing his best not to let the fireworks bursting in his heart show on his face. He felt the wine flowing through his system, loosening his tongue—or maybe it was just her presence. He looked at her, eyes tracing over that pretty blush in her cheeks. “Amelie, I—”

“Tito,” she interrupted, undoubtedly sensing the shift in tone and direction of the conversation. “I’m too drunk to have the feelings talk. Can we table it til tomorrow?”

Anthony laughed, and he had to admit that she was right; that conversation would definitely be better had in the morning. “You want to go to bed?”

Amelie looked at him shyly, a giggle slipping out. “I want to go to bed.”

In an instant, all of his nerves reheated, summoning the same sweltering temperature from before. His pulse raced, desire sinking back into him, eyes tracing over the curve of her lips. The logical part of him knew he should quell the yearning, squash it until they could have a conversation about where their feelings stood—but where was the fun in that? He wanted her, and it was clear she wanted him, too.

Setting his glass on the coffee table, he grinned and jerked his head down the hallway. “Allons-y, mon chou.”

mon chou = my cabbage/my dear allons-y = let's go

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