#its almost like i don know how to drawn them anymore....

[sukipershipper]

Forgive and Forget...?

The former champion slammed his locker door shut, almost breaking it off its hinges and echoing throughout the locker room. He leaned his body against the locker and stared down at the floor. Tears stung his eyes as he held back angry sobs, only able to let out dry and heavy huffs. This couldn’t have just happened. He couldn’t have just lost his title! The one he had worked so hard for all those years. 

He couldn’t go back home like this. Empty handed. A nothing. A husk…what would his family think? That he lost all of his hard work, That he had failed in pursuit of his goal he boasted of with such pride…That his father was right…

What would Carmen think? What should she think of him now that she knew he was lying? 

He remembered what Tiger had screamed at him, during the fight that ended it all. He remembered seeing the pained and saddened face of Bear watching in the background while protecting a confused and slightly dazed Hondo on the floor. He remembered the growl in Tiger’s voice, how his eyes and gem glowed ever so slightly the angrier he got.

He remembered the scathing words Tiger had left with him, now imprinted in his mind. 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I EVER FELT BAD FOR YOU! I HOPE YOU REALLY DO END UP LOSING, I HOPE YOU LOSE AND YOUR WHOLE PLAN BLOWS UP IN YOUR SELFISH FACE. I HOPE YOU LOSE AND THEN MAYBE YOU’LL REALIZE HOW ALONE YOU’VE JUST MADE YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU DON’T DESERVE ANYONE…NOT ANYMORE!!”

He shivered at the thought, knowing he was right. His anger had isolated him from his family, his jealousy tore him away from his friends and now his dishonesty was going to tear him from the woman he so desperately thought to keep…

He truly was all alone now.

He brought his hand up and clasped it over his mouth, trying in vain to muffle the sobs that escaped from his mouth. Alas, it wasn’t enough to hide them from a young boxer’s curious ears. 

-------

Mac had tried to dip away from the press and the overbearing support he was getting from his former opponents and friends on the side. Hell, even Doc’s affirmations were beginning to drive the boy a little nuts, despite how much he loved them. After this much attention, he began to feel quite overwhelmed, so he found himself making up an excuse to go and grab his gear from the locker rooms when he heard a loud slam coming from inside. 

He carefully made his way in, ears drawn to the sound of faint sobs and heavy breathing. He peeked around the corner to see his previous opponent leaning against the lockers, his whole body trembling. Mac’s eyes widened at the sight. Just before he had been fighting this man, he was proud, strong, he didn’t look like he had a fear in the world.

But looking at him now? This…this couldn’t be the same man.

Mac knew the guy was full of himself. He had heard many of the other Major Circuit fighters tell him about Don’s outbursts and cocky nature. He had witnessed a lot of it for himself in the ring…but a part of him didn’t want to leave him like this. He knew that it was going to be a lost cause, but he wanted to at least try.

He made his way around the corner, shuffling his feet slightly before wincing and announcing his presence. A bad idea as Don almost immediately turned around and nearly hooked him. Mac swiftly dodged the attack and his opponent’s fist instead collided with one of the locker doors. Don winced in pain as he growled at Mac, eyes red and flared as he glared at the boy. 

“¡Hijo de puta! ¿Qué demonios estás haciendo, chico?” he spoke through gritted teeth. Mac put his hands up defensively, “I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you…I…I just-” he began to explain before he was sharply cut off by Don.

“I don’t care! Leave me alone!” he yelled, turning away, “You’ve already ruined my life…what else do you hope to gain!?” 

“Ruined your…I’m sorry, I’m confused…” Mac said, caught off guard by Don’s words. He carefully approached the Spaniard, though still kept some distance between them in case Don chose to strike again. Don sighed, slumping back against the lockers and sliding downwards, his knees brought to his face as he tried to hide away from the boy. “Just…leave me alone…” he said, defeatedly. 

Mac shook his head, “Not until I learn what’s up with you…” he said, sitting down on the floor next to the other, crossing his legs and looking at Don with visible concern. Don didn't look back.

"Look, I came in here to check on ya…I-I don't wanna start any trouble…" Mac explained. Don scoffed at the comment, causing Mac's eyebrows to furrow. "Hey, I know we aren't on great terms but that's no excuse to lash out at your friends!" He exclaimed, "Don't think I didn't hear that scrap you had with the others earlier-"

"You know NOTHING of what happened there!"

"I know enough to know you were acting like a dickhead and now you've gone and lost your friends-"

Don slammed his fist against the locker and grabbed the boy by his collar, screaming "YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT!?" He said, tears stinging his eyes once again.

"I HAVE NO ONE, NO FRIENDS, NO FAMILY, NO LOVE, I LOST IT ALL TONIGHT!!" He cried through sobs, "I CAME TO THIS PLACE TO MAKE MYSELF, TO PROVE TO MY FAMILY I COULD BE MORE…MORE THAN JUST…A dumb little matador who just feels like he's…nobody…" Don felt tears pour from his eyes as he loosened his grip on Mac's collar and leaned his head up against the lockers. Mac gently moved Don's hand off his shirt and leaned in to give the Spaniard a slightly awkward hug. 

It was like the hug your sibling would give you if you had gotten in trouble from your parents. Awkward and stiff, but admittedly comforting.

Even after everything, the minute Don felt Mac lean against him, he slowly brought his hand upwards and onto the boy's head, bringing him closer. 

Mac could feel Don's heart pounding against his chest, the way it moved as he took sharp breaths to try and calm himself down. Mac simply sat there, wrapping his arm as best as he could around Don. 

Don sniffled before looking down at the boy. "I-I'm…I'm so s-sorry, niño…" He said through his tears, "Lo siento por todo... N-No quería…"  He paused, shaking his head, "I just…wanted to prove I could be more…I wanted so badly to prove my dad wrong…he told me…Tú no eres nada…he called me nothing…"

Mac's eyes softened as he looked up at the older man. His heart hurt hearing that. How could someone call their own child nothing?

"That was when I told him I would take on boxing…almost five years ago now he had disowned me and…I had made my way to America with Mi abuelo…" Don continued, "...the people I had met here…my friends in the Major Circuit…Hugger gave me food, Tiger gave me a room…they took me in…they made me Don Flamenco…they gave me so much hope…so much drive!...I had never felt so happy, so satisfied a-and proud of my achievement!"

The older boxer sighed, looking upwards at the ceiling. "They gave me everything…and I turned my back on them…all because of…of a hairline and a record…" Don said through gritted teeth. Mac didn't say anything, he only continued to look upwards in thought.

There was quite a lot to unpack here. He had known Don's home life wasn't spectacular-- he'd heard of it through Aran though so he did take it with a grain of salt-- but hearing this now, what he went through, what he was called…it didn't excuse any of what he did but it definitely opened Mac's eyes to why.

He sighed, Mac parted away from the hug and cleared his throat. "Don," he began, grabbing the Spaniards attention, "Look…I…I can't excuse what you did…it's obviously something that you need to be held accountable for…"

Don sighed, nodding in agreement. "I know…" He mumbled. Mac hummed, "...however…I can't fault you for feeling like everything you worked hard for was coming undone…" He explained, "...you obviously know failure…and you're scared…scared of failing again…"

Don looked at the boy with widened eyes. He had never expected to hear such words from a boy his age…Doc obviously taught him that. 

"You don't want to fail again, so anytime you feel close to falling you lash out and bring others down to make you feel…some sense of power…make yourself feel like you are perfect…but all you do is lose who you really are…why you really do what you do…"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the goal for all of us in the beginning is to prove our worth to the world…" Mac explained, "...to show we are worthy to fight…but the longer we work here the more we find that our goal can…change…and it's no longer to prove our worth to the world…but to ourselves…make new goals…new paths…"

"Psh, it's easy for you" Don scoffed, "You're still young! You have all the time left in the world! I’m 23 and I still don’t have my shit figured out!...” 

The older boxer scanned the younger one up and down. He gave a quick hum and turned away. “Eres un niño pequeño... no sabes lo que es tener el peso de tu mundo y de tu hogar sobre tus hombros…” he said, “...You don’t know the pressure WE have…us who grow up knowing nothing but perfection…setting a precedent…an example!...”

“Better to grow up knowing A life surrounded by SOMETHING than having nothing at all…”

“...Yeah…I know…”

The room fell silent for a while as the two boxers leaned back against the lockers. Mac looked slightly towards the older one. His eyes showed someone who was truly on his last legs, or as Don himself put it before: alone. 

It hurt Mac seeing this and despite the hostility earlier, he knew Don was hurting as well. The younger one wanted to help but as he went to speak, he turned his eyes upwards to the clock hanging on the wall just opposite to where they sat. It was getting late and Doc was probably gonna be looking for him. He had heard the man once joke about sending a search and rescue squad out for him but honestly, he did believe it to some extent. However, as much as he knew he should go, part of him wanted to stay behind and continue comforting his opponent. 

He started shuffling ever so slightly to let Don know he was getting up to leave. The other boxer only glanced at him with a saddened expression and huffed. “...Just go, Mac…I know you want to…” he said. Mac shook his head, “N-no, please don’t take it like-”

“It’s fine…” Don interrupted, “You’ve been good company for me…even after all that I said and did…” he turned finally to look at the boy, his eyes red from tears, his cheeks stained black from the mascara, and his lips turned into a small smile. Mac stared in surprise before his lips curled upwards into a grin, putting his hand out for the other to shake. Don didn’t move but soon he brought his hand outwards to meet the boys, firmly grasping it on his own and shaking it up and down.

Mac stood up to leave, just as the locker room door opened and footsteps echoed across the floor. He quickly looked to his locker, putting in his combination and quickly opening it, grabbing his bag before he locked it again. In good time, as he saw the two oldest of the Major Circuit make their way in.

“Hey, Macky,” Bear Hugger began, his voice low and quiet, “Mind if we get a few minutes alone with Donny ‘ere? Yer old man is looking for ya anyhow, best go check on him, eh?” he asked with a small smile. Mac nodded, turning back to look at Don who didn’t dare to look at the newcomers, his eyes instead turned away in embarrassment and shame as he continued to gaze at the floor beside him. The young boy sighed, “Please,” he whispered, “Go easy on him”

“We make no promises…” Tiger said bluntly, resulting in a light nudge from Bear.

Don didn’t respond. 

Mac went to leave, but before he turned the corner he quickly called back to Don. “Hey, Flamenco!” he called, causing Don to finally turn his attention from the floor to the young boy. “Thank you for the match, I’m really honored to have fought alongside you…” he said, smiling at the Spaniard. Don slowly smiled back, saluting the boy as he spoke “...y lo mismo aquí, gracias por una lucha maravillosa…hermano…”

With that, Mac stepped out of the locker room, bag slung over his back and walking towards the exit where he saw Doc waiting, Disco stood beside him along with…a gangly looking red headed man? Who seemed to laugh maliciously as he saw him approach…

-----

Don simply sat on the floor, staring at his…ex-friends…

In his mind, he tried to think of the words to say. Something, anything that could fix what he had done…nothing more could come to mind but a simple ‘sorry’...it wasn’t good enough…it would never be good enough…not for what he put them through this whole time…

The older two watched as Don slowly rose from the ground. He held his elbows in his hands and stared at the three with woeful eyes. “Look,” he began, “I…” he trailed off, thinking of the best way to word what he wanted to say. “Words…words cannot express the sorrow and regret I feel right now…I know I don’t deserve your pity…but you absolutely deserve my apologies…” he said in a meek voice. 

“I never meant to drag my problem out this much…I never meant to cause this much harm to any of you!” He admitted, his voice raising ever so slightly. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or even talk to me anymore…I am not deserving of your friendship…but just know that…I am sorry, and I am going to change…I’m just upset it took me so long to admit it…”

At that moment, the world stood still. Don looked between the three men, who all shared their own looks of skepticism and pondered their next move. Luckily, the world began to speed up once again as Bear began to advance towards Don. The younger boy involuntarily flinched, wanting to recoil but found himself being swept into a hug, Bear Hugger’s arms pulling him in close. Don stood in shock as he tried to process what was happening. 

“E…Ellie?” he asked quietly, his voice like a whisper. Bear only hugged him more, sniffling with a smile as he whispered back “It’s okay…”

Don’s eyes widened and his face lit up as he heard those words, watching as Tiger soon came around the other side to hug him, “...just happy you finally found some sense” he joked as he parted from the hug and held Don’s head in his hand. Don took a moment, staring at the two in disbelief. As he stood there, his feelings soon overwhelmed him.

His cheeks became flushed as his body began to shudder and he leaned inwards to Tiger’s shoulder. “I-I’m so so-o-orry…!” he cried as he tried to hug the two, “I-I never m-meant to…oh god…!” he cried, his voice choked and quiet. “Hey, hey, hey,” Bear said, lifting the younger man’s head up with his hand, “We already forgave you…” he said softly, “...even Haru does…”

Tiger nodded profusely, “And we should’ve been a little more understanding…I-I didn’t mean to say what I said…you don’t deserve to be alone…no one ever does! I just-”

“No, no, you had every right to say what you did…I was horrible…my past does not excuse my actions and behavior in the present…but I really do mean it, I am going to work to be better…I realize my path now…” Don interrupted, smiling at the older two with gratitude. “...Thank you two…for being by me…despite everything I did…”

“We all have regrets kid…but we’re here for you, no matter what…” Bear said, tightening his embrace around the spaniard. Tiger did the same, hugging Don from the back, “...and we love you, little brother…we love you…”

Don gave a soft chuckle as he smiled, resting in the warm embrace of his friends. 

“I love you too…”

[undertaker1827]

Could you do 15 20 and 23 for Undertaker and their s/o finding out he is a grim reaper not being afraid of him bec she knew from the very moment they met, he was different and accepted that from the very start. [sorry for my english]

Of course! And your English is great! Also I kinda got carried away (there’s around 2k words) I just loved the prompt. Enjoy! 

Prompts in bold

❗️Warnings; Canon-typical violence, reader gets attacked/minorly injured (UT saves the day, tis all good), said attacker gets knocked unconscious and doubting & hurt/comfort-ing ensues, but there’s a fluffy end I promise

Masterlist

-

Your steps echoed through the dark, empty city streets, not a soul about apart from you. It was to be expected, you supposed; after all, it was midnight. You had been out with a few friends and the time had just slipped away from you all until you remembered that you had work in the morning and you needed to get home quickly. Having not intended to be so long, the only mode of transport was either walking or getting a taxi, and the latter seemed a little ridiculous to you given that your apartment was only just around the corner. That led to where you were now, taking a shortcut through a less than advisable area of town so you would get home quickly.

There was a sudden scuffle behind you and your whole body tensed, heart jumping and mind racing with possibilities. You risked taking a glance behind you, doing your best to slow your breathing when you realised nothing was there. Unnerved but determined, you carried on at a slightly faster pace and focused on getting to the door of your building, which was now only a few minutes away, less if you were to walk any more quickly. The second noise you heard behind you was closer than the first and enough to set your every nerve on edge.

Nausea crawled up the back of your throat when you distinctly sensed someone following you, heard their footfalls as they broke into a run and felt each limb start to tremble with the ensuing rush o adrenalin. You broke into a full sprint hardly daring to turn for long enough to make out any more than a figure dressed in black, face covered by fabric and holding something that glinted in the halo of light coming from the back window of someone’s workshop - - was that a knife? The thought spurred you on even more heart pounding and preparing to scream for help, but you just weren’t fast enough.

You let out a muffled yell as you were tripped up and landed unceremoniously on the concrete pavement, chin scraped and lip split as your face collided with it. You couldn’t care less about that now though, immediately twisting over and trying to haul yourself to your feet, ignoring the pain blossoming from the ankle you landed on. Again though, you were too slow; a hand pressed to your mouth and a steel blade to your throat prevented any escape attempts you were going to make. Your eyes widened in fear and you desperately tried to press yourself further back into the concrete, but it was no good.

“Stay still,” your attacker hissed out at you, digging the knife a little further into your neck, “and be quiet.”

You hands gripped his wrist automatically, fingers trembling, but both your attentions were drawn by the arrival of a second person. You looked over your shoulder to find a man silhouetted at the near end of the backstreet you were in, a large, familiar coat flaring out around him and one arm out to the side, holding a… stick? Whatever your attacker was going to say, be it a warning to leave or a lie that this wasn’t what it looked like, the other spoke before he had the chance.

“I will say this once, and once only,” he said in a cold, hard voice, so different from his normal joking tone and one you hadn’t ever heard him use before. “Let them go.” Each word was pronounced individually, as if being made clear to a child who was likely to misunderstand. He took a step forward to punctuate each one, now close enough that you could see the grey hair that draped over his shoulders and hung down his back. The stick was a sotoba, you realised, you had seen a few of them scattered around his parlour. You always thought they were there for the aesthetic.

Fear still coursed through you, but now it was for your long term partner as well as yourself. What did he hope to accomplish against a man who held a knife to your throat?

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I suggest you go before you cause anymore bloodshed.” This was accompanied by a poignant press of the knife to your neck, a single, hot drop of blood trailing don your skin. And there was something else you never expected to see displayed by your beloved Undertaker. Pure, barely restrained rage.

You hardly managed to keep track of the events that unfolded, but one minute he was standing there a few paces away and the next he was right next to you. The knife dropped to the floor with a clatter and your attacker let out a cry of pain. If the angle of it was anything to go by, his wrist was both dislocated and broken. You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened as the mortician grabbed the man by his collar and held him as high into the air as possible, then threw him back against the brick wall of the building he had been holding you against just moments earlier. You floundered for a second or two before realising there was a massive blade held to the man’s throat, a polished silver that curved gracefully into a human skull and ribcage, the spine of which had been whittled down to a handle that was easily as long as you were tall. The sotoba was gone.

As your gaze trailed back up Undertaker’s form, you came to a second realisation. His bangs were shoved back away from his face and you could see his eyes. And they were glowing. He seemed utterly detached from the man’s frightened whimpering, as if his begging made no sound at all.

“You thought it would be fun, I believe,” he stated in confident mockery, “to pick on someone weaker than yourself. How does it feel now, hm?” The mortician let him drop down a few inches as his hand found purchase on his throat, grip tightening until you could see it was a physical struggle to breath. “How dare you.” The last had fallen to a threatening whisper, Undertaker’s face far too close to the other’s. You could see the man’s struggle was weakening, the lack of air starting to have its effect. “I won’t kill you,” Undertaker muttered at length, “you aren’t worth my time.”

With that, he let go entirely, disinterested gaze watching as the man crumpled to the floor. His eyes then flicked over to you, taking in the hand you were holding to your throat and the fear practically radiating off of you in waves. He fancied he could hear your heartbeat even as you stood several steps away. The mortician languidly held out a hand as he said your name, waiting until you moved towards him to pull you into his chest.

You thought you had only blinked once, but in that fraction of a second, all of your surroundings had changed. It was Undertaker’s parlour that you were standing in now, not some dingy side street with a man who had tried to kill you now laying unconscious against a wall. The mortician stepped away from you quickly, a little too quickly really, and moved to lay the scythe against a coffin. You stood still, unsure what to do after everything that had just taken place and unprepared with the intensity that would come from your partner’s gaze when he turned back around on his heel to face you.

“Are you alright?” It was still the same, serious voice from before, though now instead of being laced with anger, all you could hear was concern. Your fingertips drifted back to your throat as you contemplated whether you actually were alright or not, though you frowned when Undertaker went to reach towards you then stopped, almost as if catching himself from doing something he knew he shouldn’t. Your frown only deepened when he stayed an arm’s length away. Physical contact was always something he had loved, craved even, so why he was acting so strangely now when you could really do with the contact you didn’t know. You made the executive decision then that his bizarre reasoning didn’t matter, opting to close the distance between you and wrap your arms securely around his body, head tucked into his shoulder and eyes closed. You were still shaking and Undertaker ached with a deep, broken sadness so strong that he didn’t realise he was once again raising his arms to hold you. He dropped them immediately, but you were still just standing there and now it seemed like you were holding back tears as well and everything he did was just making things worse -

“Fox?” You whimpered out the name you had adopted for him past the obvious lump in your throat and he could have sworn that he had never felt so guilty for anything before.

“Yes?” His voice was hoarse too.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but please just hold me.” Your words were so small and frightened, something in the reaper just snapped. A hand on your side brought you impossibly closer to his and he hauled you up into his arms, one hand supporting your back and the other carding back through your hair as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed his nose against your neck, avoiding the injured part, and left a series of gentle kisses there as sobs started to wrack your frame. You had no idea how long you stayed like that but over time, you became aware of the reaper murmuring the same set of words against your skin, over and over again.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

He was holding you so tightly that something in him was afraid he might hurt you, but you were holding him in return and he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Your tears having finally subsided, you tilted your head to leave a kiss on his jaw, halting his flow of words.

“Stop apologising, you have nothing to be sorry for.” The chartreuse eyes that met yours were full of so many different emotions that it was almost overwhelming. He moved a hand to cup your face, thumb carefully brushing over your lower lip.

“You’re not afraid of me?” Your stomach dropped at the fact that he thought you would be.

“You’ve given me no reason to be.” He looked for a moment like he didn’t want to believe you, so you took his face in your hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, relief flooding you when he kissed you back. “I knew you were different,” you continued, not breaking eye contact, “I’ve always known. I just didn’t know how.” The mortician gave a small nod.

“I’m a reaper,” he told you, “retired. It was my job among many others to collect the souls of the dead.” You just nodded, smiling a little. He let out a sigh as his eyes caught the crimson staining on your neck. “Let me do something with that.” Another smile.

“Thank you.”

-

Undertaker cleaned and covered your wound efficiently but with gentle hands, making sure he didn’t hurt you. From the angle your head was at to give him best access to your injury, you could just see the top of his grey hair, feel its weight over your legs as he leaned close to you. You started running your hands through it and playing with the ends almost subconsciously, missing the small glance he gave you out of the corner of his eye.

The mortician only moved back a fraction when he finished seeing to your neck, close enough that you could still play with his hair. Close enough that he could see you rather than sense you and do so without the need for corrective lenses. You looked straight back at him though, and stole the words he was going to speak before he had the chance.

“You’re so beautiful.” He tilted his head affectionately, a few strands of hair crossing his eyes and leading you to push them out of the way. The reaper leaned into your touch immediately and you buried your hand in his hair, fingertips trailing over the roots. His eyes were soft when he opened them again.

“You’re the beautiful one, love.”

[her-world-on-fire]

It Was All Yellow {Jason Todd x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 2,424

Request: Jason or Damain finding you, the happy girl, singing a sad song and crying while on patrol. If possible, do you think the song could be If I Could Ride a Bike by Chevy? Thanks, you're a godsend <3

A/N: Sorry if this wasn’t what you imagined, hope you like it anon!

I LISTENED to the sound of own heartbeat. It echoed loudly, and I looked over at Jason, fearing he would wake at any moment. He had fallen asleep almost as soon as we got to the apartment. I didn’t blame him, almost every night he was working himself to death. Crime rates increased with every new vigilante. The work never seemed to stop. No matter how much we tried it seemed like Gotham was the same as we left it the night before. I watched as his chest slowly rose then fell. His face was expressionless, his usual smirk was gone.

Jason was sore, I could tell by the way he moved he was in pain. He tried his best to hide it, but I noticed it. I noticed that he hot showers to try and ease the pain. The steam flowed from under the crack over the door, and found its home on the mirrors and walls. Every night before he went to sleep he would sneak into the kitchen and take ibuprofen. I could hear the pills rattling inside the bottles, and his hushed footsteps as he hurried back into his room.

This was the most peaceful I had seen him all week.

His head was resting on my lap. I pulled the blanket over him as gently as I could. It was only 8pm, he needed to sleep to recover. I didn’t have to worry about the boys waking him up. Jason had insisted on getting his own place. He knew I never felt quite at home in the manor, and let me stay with him.

I turned off the TV and leaned against the arm rest. I wanted to try and get some sleep too.

I woke up to the sound of Jason’s phone ringing. I looked around, and he wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. My best guess was the shower. I grabbed his phone, it was Artemis. I bolted to the bathroom. “Jason!” 

I reached the bathroom door and he immediately swung it open. He looked over at me. “What? Are you alright?” I held up his phone.  He looked at the caller ID. “Oh shit.” He took his phone, and answered it, bringing it to his ear. “Hey.”

I looked at Jason, his hair was still soaking wet. The water dripped from his hair down to his neck, them his chest. He had his towel wrapped around his waist. I motioned I was going to go into the kitchen. And he nodded and closed the door. He spoke quietly. A few moments later I heard him move into the closet.

Artemis.

Artemis was a former teammate, and from the way Dick told it, they were more than that. I tried my best to push the negative thoughts out of my head. I started making breakfast when I heard a loud crash. “Jason?” I moved away from the kitchen and into the hallway. I heard rustling coming from inside his room. “Jason? Are you okay?” The door opened and Jason emerged with a duffel bag. “Have you seen my holster?” He didn’t look at me as he zipped up his duffel bag.

“It’s in the laundry room.” He moved past me and to the laundry room. He didn’t speak. He moved back and forth between the rooms collecting his things. “I paid this months rent. Alfred will continue the payments on my behalf just in case.” I blinked in shock. A month’s rent? Just in case?

“You’re leaving?” He stayed silent. He looked over the apartment, trying to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Finally he looked over at me. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reached for the door and paused. He mumbled something under his breath. He turned back to me and pointed a finger.

“Don’t go out on patrol alone.” With that, he was gone.

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

Dick had noticed a change in Y/N’s behavior. Normally, Y/N was the highlight of patrol. Constantly positive and bubbly, it made the night go much faster. But since Jason left, Y/N was quiet. No more humming, the laughter that had once illuminated the night was gone.

Not even Dick knew why Jason was gone. It was Jason didn’t want any backup, it was something he needed to do alone. He didn’t want to risk Y/N getting caught up in his mess. He was sending updates to Jason but he wasn’t sure that he was getting them. If Jason wanted to be alone, he knew exactly how to do it. He cut off all forms of communication and was consumed by the job. It had been 2 weeks and he was silent. No one knew where he was. No one knew if he was even alive. Roy informed Dick that Jason had stopped by for supplies. But he hadn’t heard anything since.

Whatever he was doing, he was sure to hide it. No news reports caught wind of his activities. For his sake, Dick hoped that Jason was on the right path. The last time Jason broke his promise to Bruce beat him until he was almost unrecognizable. Jason had even remarked he had never seen him hit the Joker as hard.

There was an insatiable anger in Bruce. He had trusted Jason to operate in Gotham under the condition he wouldn’t kill anyone. Then Jason went on national television and nearly killed Cobblepot, by shooting him point blank. The boys were at a loss, neither of them knew what to do. Bruce insisted on dealing with it himself. Jason only got away because Roy saved him. Dick wasn’t sure how they would stop Bruce this time.

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

Jason slung his duffel bag across his shoulder. He released a sigh as he stretched. He had been driving all night to get back as soon as possible. He had a lot of explaining to do. He had received all of Dick’s messages.

Let me know you’re alright.

Tim can’t track your location, just check in.

Jason we haven’t heard from you in 3 weeks.

Y/N’s not doing good.

He felt guilty for just leaving, but he had to. He knew that if he gave explanations then Dick would try and talk him out of it. It would give Tim more time to figure out how to track him. More importantly he knew if Y/N had asked, he would’ve stayed.

Jason entered the apartment. After being gone for so long it seemed almost foreign. There were a few noticeable changes. The curtains that were almost always drawn open to let in the sun were shut. More importantly it looked empty. Almost as if no one was inhabiting it.

There was no evidence of dirty dishes, no laundry, and everything was spotless. It was too clean for anyone to be living here. When he opened the fridge his suspicious were confirmed. There was no food. It was almost empty, apart from a case of water. He sighed, Dick was right. Things were not good. He looked around the apartment, trying to find any hint of where Y/N went.

The only thing missing, was a single outfit.

Y/N’s suit.

Jason decided to visit all the patrol spots he knew. Each one of them came up empty. Just as he was about to give up, he heard something. Jason stopped. He faintly heard a voice in the distance. It was barley audible, but he somehow caught it. He tried to find the source, he walked towards the stairs. It had to have been coming from the roof top. As he got closer, he heard an accompanying soft piano.

“If I could sail a boat I'd cruise across the sea. A sweet adventure for us two. I'll be Jack and you rose.”

The voice began to falter, there were so many emotions just begging to be released. Jason didn’t want to interrupt, in fear of the voice stopping. He didn’t walk completely up the stairs. He was mesmerized by the sound. He stayed at the bottom steps, as quietly as possible. It took him a while to process that he knew the voice.

It was Y/N. He had not ever heard Y/N sad. He continued listening as the voice grew louder. “Just please don't let me go. Cause I'll be nothing without you.” The desperation made Jason want to make his presence known. He wanted Y/N to know that he was there. He wanted to help, more than anything. He slowly walked up the stairs. “Oh when you call me, I'm drifting on clouds. Like I'm dream-ing.”

“But in the morn-ing, I'll wake up and see that you’re stuck here with me. If only you knew what I would do for you I'd jump up and hold you so tightly.”  With every verse, the voice grew softer. There was more sadness in each line. He listened carefully to the lines, trying to piece together the information. Each line made it apparent, unrequited love.

-

“But I will never be able to do these things, so I'm just left imagin-ing.”  As the song ended, I finally let all my emotions go. No one knew where Jason was and I was beginning to give up hope. I was sitting on the ledge of the rooftop. Police scanners were quiet. There were no distressed civilians. For once it seemed like Gotham was having a good night. Jason wasn’t here to see it. I moved to get up, in search of something. I had been trying to distract myself as much as possible with work. I couldn’t stand being inside the empty apartment anymore. For the first two weeks I stayed in hoping that one night Jason would come back and everything would be okay. But by the third week, it was evident he wouldn’t be back any time soon. When I did sleep, I stayed with Roy. We had been working together to try and track Jason but it appeared he had learned some new tricks.

I heard a creak come from behind me. I turned around immediately, but there was nothing there. I was about to venture down the stars when I heard something. “Hey.” I froze. That voice. I turned around and saw Jason. He was in his street clothes. He looked drained. There were a few small cuts and some bruising on his face. I moved closer to him, and let out a breath I had been holding in. I was relived he was okay, but I was angry at him for leaving.

“I didn’t know you were back. I didn’t even know if you were-“ I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence, but he knew. “I went to the apartment and it was empty. I noticed your suit was missing. I figured I would find you out here.” He moved closer and wiped the tears from my eyes. “How much did you hear?” I asked nervously. I was hoping he arrived after I had finished but by the look on his face it was apparent he didn’t.

“Almost all of it.”

“I don’t even know where to start.” He paused, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I just disappeared.” I nodded and thought back to each restless night. Not knowing was the worst part. “A long time ago, someone really bad got away. I lost his trail, but I’ve been keeping tabs on him. He resurfaced and I couldn’t let him get away again.” He put his arm around me, “But I won’t ever leave you like that again.” He placed a kiss on top of my head. Silent tears streamed down my face and I took in his warm embrace.

“Let’s go home. The boy’s have this covered.” I looked at him in shock. He had never called the apartment home. He always said that it was just somewhere he slept. He had never felt that it was home. “I thought the apartment wasn’t home?”

“It’s not home without you.”

We got back to the apartment and Jason reached for the door. He opened the door and I moved to turn on the lights. I stopped, the table was lit by candles. The floor was scattered with rose petals. It was nothing like how I left it. It felt comforting again. “I had Roy bring your things back.” He shut the door behind us. “It’s perfect.” I turned around and wrapped my arms around him. He ran his hands through my hair. “Come on,” He took my hand and led me to the bathroom. It was lit by a few candles. The bath was set with warm water. “I know you haven’t been here much and I thought you would appreciate it.”

“I’ll be in the bedroom, when you get out.” He placed my towel and some clothes on the sink and departed.

Once I got out I followed the petals into the bedroom. The bedroom was back to it was before. Jason had left a mess when he left, and I left a mess moving back and forth between Roy’s. Everything was neatly put away. Jason by now had changed out of his street clothes and into his sleep wear. He was laying down staring at the ceiling. Once I closed the door he looked over. “How was it?”

“I haven’t done that in a long time.” I moved to the bed and joined him. He opened his arms and I put my head on his chest. “Are you okay?” I looked up at him and examined his face. The darkness hid the severity pretty well. Now in the light, it looked worse. “You should see the other guy.” I shook my head and laughed a little. “Really, I’m okay. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Prove it.” He leaned over and kissed me. It was soft, and needy. After weeks, it finally seemed like it was going to be okay again. He pulled away and pulled me closer. He pulled the covers over me, and kissed my forehead again. “Get some sleep babe.”

“How are you?”

“Better, now.” He ran his thumb across my cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

And for the first time in weeks, I slept soundly.

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

Can you write a imagine for Historia Reiss x fem reader where historia has a room where she chains the reader up and fucks her with a big strap and reader calls her mistress while historia slices her lingerie with a pretty little knife and after she carries reader to her room and takes sweet care of her

*takes long, drawn out swig from wine glass* lol bottom

Three Doors Down

(Historia Reiss x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: None

Category: Smut

Summary: After Historia has a particularly stressful evening, she turns to her s/o for some well needed stress relief.

Words: 2.7K

The guards of the castle knew the interior inside out—as would be expected of their career. Whether they were stationed in that part of the building or not, they knew the ins and outs of each and every room, and when it would and wouldn't be occupied. Except this one room.

It was three doors down from the master bedroom—the queen's bedroom. It had been a simple, seldom used guest room during the prior monarch's rule, but queen Historia had requested it was completely cleared out upon her coronation. They did as they were asked, and just as they had finished their job, they were given stern and clear orders to never enter the room—even for cleaning—without her express permission.

Rumors and speculation spread throughout the staff of what could be kept in this mysterious room, even going so far as to accuse scandal, but, if they wanted to keep their jobs, they must never enter to confirm for themselves. So, they tried their hardest not to question or assume whenever she entered the room with you, her lover, on her tail.

And they never questioned it, either, when you came out limping.

You were the only one, besides Historia herself, that knew of the contents of the room, and boy, did you know it well.

Luckily, though, you were usually given indication in advance whenever you would be spending your time in there. Which happened to be the case tonight.

A small note left on your desk, written in neat, precise penmanship, which was in direct contrary to the contents of the letter, reading;

"Y/n dear, I have an outfit picked out for you on the bed. Put it on and wait for me in the room. I'll be out of my meeting a little after 10."

First you glance at the clock. 9:58.

Next is the bed. You could already assume what would be there, but it still didn't stop a chill to run up your spine at the skimpy lingerie. It was lacy, but plain black. A simple, but elegant looking piece of clothing. Too bad that it would be completely unwearable by the time the night was over.

You quickly changed out your undergarments for the piece laid out on the bed, hastily putting your shirt and pants back on to cover the lace. Even if it was only a ten second walk, and there likely wouldn't be any guards around, you still didn't want to risk being caught.

Luckily making it past the door without drawing any suspicion, you let out a sigh of relief, stripping yourself of anything but the lace garments. It was a little bit past 10, yet Historia was yet to show up.

Taking a seat on the table, you gazed around, cheeks flushing at all the memories of what's gone on in there before. There was a bed in the room, but it was never used—Historia much preferred the table. And, above the table were the handcuffs, drilled into the wall to ensure they never budged, even as you pulled and yanked on them with all your might in desperation.

Laid on the table was a small knife. It was Historia's favorite, clearly, since she never used a different one when she decided to tear your clothing to pieces.

After a short minute of inspecting the knife—as if there were anything new to discover—the door slowly creaked open from behind you. You jumped at the sound, instinctively worrying if it was a staff member, but relaxed when you turned around and locked eyes with Historia, donned in nothing but a plain white button up and a light pink skirt—uncharacteristic dress for a queen, but she never minded those sorts of thoughts.

"A-Ah, hey Hisu, you scared me. How was the meeti-"

"You know better than to address me like that." She spat. Your eyes widened in realization, she was clearly in one of her bad moods. And whenever she was stressed, it was always you, and this room, that she turned to for relief.

"Wh-" You had no time to speak to her, her hands already finding your shoulders and pushing you down onto the cold wood of the table.

"I don't have the patience for this today." She spoke, lining your hips up to the very edge of the table, taking a long time to forcefully press the pads of her thumbs into your hipbones.

You breathed in a suction of air through your clenched teeth, already bracing yourself for the inevitable onslaught that was followed. Yet, no matter how much it hurt, you could never bring yourself to hate it—something Historia often teased you for in the heat of the moment.

She leaned forward, kissing you and slipping her tongue into your mouth as one of her hands pushed your shoulder into the table, the other one holding onto your face with an iron grip, forcing your lips to stay glued against hers.

She pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath as she reached over to pick something off the ground, and fear immediately struck you at the sight.

"Historia, you can't! Tha-" Her hand, previously gripping your face, moved to grip around your throat tightly, leaving just enough margin to allow you to choke out a wheeze.

"I told you," She sneered, tightening her grip. "Don't call me that. What's my name, baby?"

"M... Mistress...!" You managed to squeeze the words out of your throat, and content with your answer, her grip relaxed, and it left your throat, allowing you to gasp in a breath of air.

Her hands, both of which now free, adjusted the straps around her waist, giving it a firm tug to confirm it's security on her hips. Attached to the straps was a pretty pink silicone cock. The only problem, see, was the size.

Typically, Historia had a few favorite strap-ons, ranging in size from 6-8 inches. But, the one she had put on was brand new, and a good 10 inches. Girthier than normal, too.

"His- I mean... mistress, that's not gonna fit!" You cried out. Though undeniably aroused, nervousness and fear worked its way through your body at the intimidating size of the cock.

"It'll fit, trust me." She smiled, picking up the small knife from on the table. "Now hold still, this is really sharp."

You did as you were told, stilling your body against the table as she leaned forward to kiss you again.

While her tongue explored and assaulted your mouth, you accidentally jumped as the tip of the knife glided against your collarbone. Historia anticipated this, luckily, drawing the knife back a little. Despite that, she still hissed into your mouth.

"Hold still." She warned, pressing the knife back to your skin. You did your best to fight off the unease in your stomach, both arousal and fear, as the sharp tip danced lower.

It reached the small line of fabric that connected the two cups of your bra, stopping at it momentarily. Historia bit your bottom lip teasingly before pulling away.

"We don't need this anyway." She sighed, slicing through the fabric easily, leaving the cold, sharp edge of the knife to push back into your bare chest.

She took one breast in her hand, squeezing it a little just to gauge the way you flinched into her. Once satisfied with your reaction, she leaned down, taking the other one in her mouth.

"M-Mistress, hurry up!" You whined, realizing your mistake only seconds later when her mouth, previously swirling around your nipple, bit down, causing you to yelp.

"I go at my own pace." She hissed, leaning back to gaze at you. Pressing the tip of her finger to your core, she felt around a tiny bit to gauge your arousal. "You really are eager, huh?" Your face darkened at the comment, trying to resist pleading for more.

"You know the deal. Arms up." She instructed, waiting for your arms to shoot up before cuffing them into the shackles above your head, securely locking them in place. Next, she moved lower, forcefully spreading your legs to chain each ankle to the table leg, ensuring that it was impossible for you to close your legs.

"I can hardly wait anymore..." Historia muttered, pressing the very tip of the knife into your clit, causing you to squirm in both pleasure and fear.

She pressed on with a little more force, dragging the knife down to cut a wide slit down the middle of your lace panties, just wide enough to slip the silicone cock through, she noticed.

Discarding the knife, she gripped your hips, lining the head of the cock up with your entrance, lazily starting to finger you, loosening you up for the strap-on.

"Are you sure it's gonna fit...?" You muttered, still not being able to settle the nerves in the pit of your stomach.

All Historia provided was a quick nod, adding an extra finger in you to stretch you out further. You groaned in pleasure, squirming against the clinking chains as you craved more stimulation.

"F-Fine, just... be gentle at first." You shot her a pleading look, and, for once, she looked back with a bit of empathy.

"Just so you can get used to it..." She agreed quietly, using her hand to guide the bulbous tip into your entrance, slowly pushing it in to about halfway before stopping.

You let out a whine at the sudden feeling, the size stretching you out more than you were used to, causing a small bit of pain to mix with the pleasure.

She pulled out gently, before pushing back in at the same distance. Slowly, she started to rock her hips in and out of you, finding her rhythm as you sighed in pleasure.

Historia's hand made its way down to your clit, rubbing lazy circles on it to add to the stimulation.

"A-Ah~ Keep doing that, please!" You pleaded, enjoying the feeling of the slow pace and short distance. You knew it would be short lived.

Historia grit her teeth, gripping your hips harder as she started to move faster almost involuntarily. Your head tilted back, pleasured moans leaving your lips at the feeling, the knot in your stomach already materializing.

A sadistic thought crossed Historia's mind, and she stopped her thrusting, causing you to gaze up at her with a pleading expression.

"Hurry up, why'd you st—!" You let out a sudden yelp as Historia snapped her hips into you with brutal force, bottoming out the full ten inches. Historia didn't pull out, leaving you squirming desperately at the feeling of the cock, pressing mercilessly against your cervix. "Mistress, wait, that hurts!"

"Enough," She barked, pulling her hips back, then snapping them back in, quickly picking up speed until she was fucking you with a brutal pace. "You're my toy, and I get to choose what I do with you."

Your head leaned back, a mixture of moans and yelps falling from your throat as she continued to fuck you mercilessly, the tip prodding at your cervix each time.

Historia looked down to watch the smooth, pink silicone slide in and out of you, splitting you open, and coming out each time covered in wetness. A groan left her lips at the sight.

As she fucked into you, she put her hand on your stomach—heaving from all the pleasure—pressing down on it enough to feel the bulge where it moved in and out of you, smiling with pride every time she felt it up against your walls, rubbing your insides over and over again.

You felt completely stretched thin, being left with no other option to lay back and take it as your orgasm grew closer by the second. despite the pain, it pushed through your sensitive cunt again and again and again until you started to feel numb, only feelings of intense pleasure filling your body.

"Historia, I'm so clo— Ngh~!" You were cut off by a particularly hard thrust, angling upwards to hit just the right spot, a wave of pleasure shooting up your spine.

"I told you not to call me that, how many times do I need to remind you." She spat, unchaining just one of your ankles to throw your leg over her shoulder, pushing forward to get as deep inside as she could.

You threw your head back, staring up at the ceiling as your vision started waver, thighs shaking and tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. Fuck, you were so close.

"You know, you always say it hurts," Historia ponders aloud, moving her thumb down to circle your clit. "But you always seem to love it so much, don't you..."

"M-Mistress, I—!"

"Shh," She cooed, cutting you off with yet another hard thrust of her hips, "It's okay, you can come."

Suddenly, your back arched off the table, the chains straining and pulling as you squirmed against her, both needed to get her to go deeper and to get as far away from her at the same time. Historia was content with helping you through your orgasm, pushing the cock deep into you while keep a bruising pace. Your fists balled up and grasped onto thin air and your mouth hung open, no longer able to let anything coherent pass by as those tears finally fell from your eyes.

Your high died down inevitably, but Historia was still pumping into you, a coy smile on her face as she waited for you to start wincing from overstimulation.

"A-Alright Hisu, that's enough!~" You cried, trying desperately to move your hips away from their fixation on her cock. Eventually though, she stopped and pulled out, but not without one final, deep thrust of her hips.

Once pulled out, she leaned over you to unshackle your ankles, giving you a perfect view of the now soaking wet toy, coated in your arousal and dripping slightly from the tip. More prominently though, you stared at it, being able to truly gauge its size for the first time that night. How the hell did that even fit... You wondered in your head, not sure whether to be impressed or ashamed.

Historia had finished unchaining both your arms and legs, giving you her hand and pulling you to sit up as she went to go collect your clothes.

---

You laid down in the plush bed, much more comfortable as compared to the hard wooden table from not ten minutes ago. Historia had helped you back into your clothes—since you were far too sore already to do any of that—and let you lean on her to hide your limp from the staff as you walked through the hallway.

But, now in your nightclothes, you watched as Historia grabbed the candle, the only source of light in the room, and gently blew it out.

"Are you okay, darling?" She immediately asked, turning around to face you, already cocooned in the warm blankets. She picked up a glass of water from her nightstand, slowly bringing it up to your lips and allowing you to drink.

"A bit sore." You swallowed, "Scratch that, a lot sore."

"I'm sorry..." She cooed, turning to face you and press your face into her chest. "I got carried away. I should've given you more time to get used to it."

"It's okay," You assured, wrapping your arms around her back to pull her closer. Your cheeks flushed in preparation of what you were about to say, swallowing your pride, for once. "It, uh... felt pretty good, actually."

She smiled at your embarrassment, running her fingers through your hair absentmindedly. "That's good to hear. I was just really stressed out 'cause of the meeting, I really needed that..." She admitted, face also flushing at the intimate confession.

"Mmmm, well I hope your day is a little better now." You smiled.

"Oh, it definitely is." You two both laughed softly, before your noises died down into a yawn.

"I'm tired. G'night Hisu, I love you."

She sighed pulling you closer to her and planting a kiss on your forehead. "I love you, too."

This may be the filthiest thing I've ever written hello what nope nobody saw me here I do not claim this filth

Also sorry if it seems a little rushed, there was lowkey a lot I wanted to do but I have word counts for a reason lmaoo

[ginwhitlock]

summary: JASPER/ BELLA. set in eclipse (but is so far from canon honestly all you need to know is that victoria is after bella). When Jasper snatches Bella away to Texas to escape a vampire’s hunt for the girl who killed her lover, Bella comes clean about her hearts unfaithfulness on an unsettling summer morning, in front of God and everybody.

fic type: oneshot, no explicit scenes

warnings: religious guilt, Bella’s weird brand of horny, cheating on Edward, oh and Alice just doesn’t exist— don’t think about it too hard

There was this openness in the air, something stirring from the west, saturating the cotton fields. A yellow eyed barn cat stood still in the morning light, it’s black coat shifting with the bite of ghostly mice. Whiskers twitching. 

It was watching her, she was sure of it, like the pecan trees and the paddock mud and the mosquitoes. All beady-eyed and searching the brown haired girl, the one with crooked ankles and misaligned bangs that just barely kissed her cheeks in the late summer sun. She looked home grown. Wheat wild. A child of desert planes. And most importantly, she looked lost. 

“I thought you’d still be sleeping by now.” A hushed baritone slipped from the screen door, it’s owner donned in dark royal denim and loose leather. 

If it had been just months before, Bella would’ve rolled her eyes. 

But she was different now. As different as Washington was to Texas. As different as evergreens were to red oak. She swore even the sweat didn’t smell right. 

“Wanted to catch the sunrise.” There was a softness to her front teeth, the round of her molars quiet against one another. To whose ears she was catering to she didn’t know. And to be honest, she didn’t quite care anymore. 

Bella made out a lazy nod from her peripheral, the shaggy haired man seemingly relaxed out here on the front porch of her judgement day, all tan and tall and scented like rolled tobacco. 

Shut up, stupid girl. 

Jasper murmured out a response, something about humans needing sleep and southern sunrises being worthy enough to diminish the former from its place on his immortal pedestal. There was a creak and a groan from the haint green floorboards underneath her before she found herself shoulder to shoulder with the two hundred year old soldier; a stray wind had blown through the shaved baby blond hair lining his chin in the slightest of ways. There was a caution light screaming out from his stature and the brunette girl had the painful urge to swallow it under her teeth and tongue. Soak it in holy water and hide it in her skin for him to find. Or rather, Him, if this stay was going to end like she thought it ought to. 

He couldn’t feel that… could he? Stupid, stupid—

“The marigolds should be blooming about now, just west of the barn. They’re quite a bit prettier than Peter’s fields.” There was something off in the lit of his tongue, the way it flipped and rolled off his teeth. It came out… wrong. Forced. Like he was trying to be overtly kind. The way you talk to a frightened rabbit you clipped with the lawn mower. 

Bella frowned something deep and turned nose at Jasper. “Why did you bring me here, Hale?” 

With the question came a wince to his brow, a noticeable blow to his stature. He seemed to fold ever so slightly towards the young girl. 

“Don’t— don’t call me that.” 

Silence filled the unwalled prison of the porch like nothing else, the birds and wind seemingly gone to rest whenever the two entered into each other's space. Like worldly magnets, chess pieces that threw blows instead of diagonals. The quiet held them both. It held them together. 

Bella Swan blinked slowly in an unknown apology before settling back on the blond with the stone facade. She waited for him to continue. 

He sighed. “It’s safer here. Victoria wouldn’t come this far south without encountering things far worse than the likes of Emmett or Rose.” 

“But this wasn’t Edward’s plan, was it?” Bella’s lashes were like rodeo announcers with their back and forth turns to the outlook of western Texas. 

Jasper looked every bit of his one hundred fifty years as he laid a freezing hand on hers, their knuckles slotting together with unpracticed ease. “No. But it’s mine. And you’re gonna have to accept that.” 

She refused to nod at the man with the thigh clenching, hard work mending, touch, for more than a second. She was far from the type of girl that would lay down and let the boys run out their wildest stupidities on her seemingly catastrophic life, but she felt almost resigned in Jasper's hands. There was a calmness between them she couldn’t place as artificial or not, the soft wool of contentedness slowly covering the surveyor-ship she felt stepping outside this morning. The stares of the flora and fauna turned internal. Fire burned in the pit of her stomach, on the nape of her neck, across the fragile skin of her cheeks where freckles started to show, and mostly, on the warming flesh of her hand where their hands met gently. 

Maybe it was Edward looking onto them from a frozen forest hundreds of miles from here as he hunted a scarlet monster, discovering the hidden plumpness swirling around in his lover's chest for the brother he always worried about, but for all the wrong reasons. 

Or maybe… 

“Jasper, can I ask you something?” 

His eyes were like serpents, glowing yellow under the copper wind chimes above them. 

“Whatever you wish, Isabella.” 

Swallow. Breathe. “When you were human… did you believe in God?” 

A pause sliced the air in two. The cotton plants seemed to stop swaying. The feline vanished. A golden eyebrow fell to his browbone. 

“Yes, Isabella. Yes I did.” His face was drawn, distant, like an old time movie screen was playing out on his stone eyelids. 

Bella’s lips pulled at themselves with her front teeth. “Do you think He’s vengeful?” 

Their eye contact sealed itself, his hand moving on its own accord up her hand to her wrist, cradling the small, delicate bones that allowed her to touch him— but not now. Not ever again. 

“When I was a boy, my mama took me to church every Sunday at seven A.M sharp, and sent me to Sunday school after the service. I was the oldest, even then, and I had more responsibilities than just listening to the preacher ramble on about divinity and charity and sacrifice.”

Jasper's face was taught with memory. 

“I had two baby sisters by the time I turned seven and they were the number one priority, you have to understand, Isabella. Ada and Caroline couldn’t have been older than three when the Leroy boy died sitting in the pew behind us… poor child got heatstroke in his wool britches and after that I started dressing the girls in the lightest things I could find and never waited long after the sermon to get back.” 

Bella turned stormy under the weight of the seemingly young man's words, her eyes dropping from his own to study the way his fingers wrapped around her skin like a life jacket, one part caregiver and one part destroyer. Jasper's own hands seemed to start to tremor just slightly under her stare, or maybe it was from the wash of his own words. 

He took a breath he didn’t need. “But. I started listening when my mother got sick, before the girls finished schooling. Started praying. A part of me was guilty that I hadn’t started before I needed something, that the reason I spoke to Him was for a favor, and a big one at that. I was making up for lost time, I thought. I was begging on my knees for anything. And I didn’t get it.

“They buried an empty coffin with my name on it under a white wooden cross after the army said I went missing. Caroline would plant violets around it in the spring, weed out the planters and start again in the fall. She’d leave me communion wafers in our family pew and have Ada try to talk with me through the minister.” 

“I’m so sorry.” A true sadness settled in her bones, her seemingly selfish desire to have the question answered sat like a heavy stone in the out of her stomach. Her heart held out a warm woolen space for him and she silently begged he would sit in it, for his own sake. 

He waved her off and took on a slight smile, something she had never seen from Jasper. Not in any capacity before that very moment. 

She decided she would try to see it every chance she got for as long as he’d let her. 

“I wasn’t a man of religious structure, Isabella, but. I was a man of faith. The small times I was allowed to watch over my sisters only reminded me of that, no matter how far down to hell I had reached, I still had faith in redemption.” 

His teeth clicked together not unpleasantly. “But I haven’t answered your question have I?” There was a knowing-ness in his voice box and Bella wanted to drink it down like communion wine. She smiled back slightly. 

He was beautiful when he sighed. 

“I’ve done horrible things. Killed innocent people. Slaughtered children and mothers and lambs of God. I have worn blood on my hands like a second skin and not once during any of it did I feel remorse. But darlin,” his lashes fluttered like leaves, “not once did I think God wanted me to hate myself for what I had done. I think… He forgave me a long time ago, before I ever forgave myself. So no. I don’t believe in my brother’s vengeful punisher. Not today. Not in this lifetime.“ She’d never hear the ‘not with you’ fragment he had stuck in his mind.  

She had to step back from him then, the vampire who had become all consuming to her chest and her heart and her fingers. The air was warmer in the space behind him but it almost didn’t matter, the warmth layering her skin was enough to burn through an air conditioning unit anyway. Bella’s hands found clumsy solace in her back pockets as she stared ahead at the rows of painful cotton buds waiting to be harvested. The blood almost pulled to her fingertips. 

Teeth and lips found each other. “I don’t think I’m not going to get punished for this.”

Her words were concrete. Cement. Blacktop on a Kansas back road. They could’ve cut glass if she wanted them to. They almost did as he looked at her. 

“For what, Isabella?” 

Knowing bastard. Always. Knowing. 

No trembling allowed now. 

“For wanting you when Edwards away. When he’s in the same room as us. When he’s hunting the woman who's trying to kill me and you’re just standing there telling me not to be afraid of my own horrible heart… for betraying everything I’ve begged for since me and your brother met. I deserve to get punished for this, don’t I? Don’t you think?” 

She was sweating now, cold droplets running down her back to her the soft slope of her ass. Her knuckles were popping against each other like fireworks and she thought she might faint right then and there, MONSTER written across her forehead in a bruise from the impact. 

A scarred hand felt itself into its place under Bella’s chin and forced her rocking skull to finally glimpse the face she had been thinking of every moment she pulled her eyes away. Jasper Hal— Whitlock? And his clear midnight pupils branding her soul in a sinner’s blush. His lips formed a wonderful crook as he slowly pushed her flat against the ancient siding of the old farmhouse belonging to his long standing brother who looked like everything Jasper was except for his spirit. 

She could die this way and she would face God with a smile. 

“What I feel for you deserves no punishment darlin, but if you insist, I think I’d rather do the punishing than any divine power.” 

His lips were light rosy steel against Bella’s own as the clouds started to stretch out infinitely behind his back, unnoticed by the interlocked couple in their wake. A soft moan escaped as felt the soft chill of a crucifix digging into her neck. 

Maybe God would forgive her for this. Just once.

[thepolicequeen]

Could It Really Be Him?

Iacon was known as the city that never slept. Day darkened into night and all that changed was who was sitting at the desk or running the cash register. While doing his final round around the station Detective Tyrest spots his young student still at work long after the Metroplexian should have been home.

Ultra Magnus, sleep deprived, desperate, and on the brink of madness, has a break in the case.

The precinct was quiet, as most night shifts were. When Tyrest, the head detective at the precinct, walked by other officers or detectives he nodded politely in greeting before moving on.

As he rounded the corridor to the meeting rooms, which should have been empty, he sighed when he saw the one at the end of the hallway occupied. The blinds were drawn so Tyrest couldn’t see into the room but he knew someone was in there based on the fact he could see the lights turned on through the blinds.

As the detective approached the end of the hallway Tyrest crossed his arms and looked down at the officer sitting directly in front of the door. “ Good evening Ironhide. May I inquire as to why you are sitting in front of this door so late at night.”

The officer looked up from the datapad he was holding, surprised at the detective’s arrival. “Well, uh, sir, tha’s quite simple. Ah wanted to uh, work away from everyone else?”

Tyrest looked very unimpressed. “Magnus is in there isn’t he.”

“Yes sir.” At least Ironhide had the sense to look apologetic. “‘E said ‘e just needed a few more hours of uninterrupted time. Ah know it’s unhealthy how much ‘e stays up workin on the case but if ‘e don’ do it no one will. Everyone else ‘as given up.”

Tyrest sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was true that ever since these murders started taking place his student was the only one who was finding the links between each one. Every break happened because of him. Now though, there hasn’t been a new victim in months and no new leads or evidence were being found. Tyrest was afraid his student was going mad.

“Please sir, just give Magnus thirty minutes.” Ironhide looked almost guilty as he said his next words. “Then ah’ll help ya get ‘im home.”

The detective looked down at the pleading officer. He knew in his spark that tonight would be the last night this case would be worked on. He couldn’t let Magnus live like this anymore. “Thirty minutes, then we take him home.”

— — — —

He’s been in here all day.

Hours upon hours of scoring over all the evidence gathered over ten years. Eighteen victims, seventeen crime scenes, one witness. He knew time was running out.

No one else was working with him, in fact throughout the day many of his coworkers who kept him company started talking about new cases, trying to convince him to move on without directly saying so. It was only a matter of minutes before his mentor took him off the case.

Magnus needed to find out who it was tonight.

The junior detective stared at the pictures in front of him, only a handful but all of them were likely suspects. Based on how the bodies were mutilated the killer had to have intimate knowledge of anatomy as well as combat knowledge since some of the victims were veterans and didn’t go down without a fight.

“Hurt like tha Pit I’ll tell ya that.”

Magnus turned to face a mech who’s torso was mutilated beyond imagination.

“Steelhead, victim number seven. Found in his house which was so bloody we had to send in a drone to take pictures before we could investigate the scene.”

“The bastard even tore off mah wings!” The large flightframe laughed before Magnus blinked, clearing his head. When he looked again the phantom was gone. In its stead he escaped into his mind remembering a few years ago after he first saw the phantoms.

“And you’re sure they looked real?”

“As real as you and me. It was like if you put their spark back into their corpse but didn’t fix the frame.”

The two mechs shivered and quickly took a shot of whatever the bartender poured them.

“You should probably see someone about that Magnus. Voices can be dangerous, phantoms are probably worse.” The junior detective’s drinking partner stared into his glass as if in a daze.

“Jack? You alright?” The smaller mech jumped in shock. “Oh yeah, just dandy. Uh I have to go, something I just remembered I had to do. I’ll see ya later Mags.”

A few hours later he got the call that another body was found, victim nine. He had to wait till morning before he could get to the crime scene. Magnus swore to never drink during a case ever again. Mostly because victim nine was burned post-mortem with engex but also because his hangover was not pretty.

A deca-cycle later victims ten and eleven happened within a few hours of each other. A scary time, the city went on immediate lockdown and anyone not home was arrested. No one ended up being suspects of interest.

The next victims brought about the biggest break the case had ever seen.

Magnus walked through the precinct quickly. It was late when he got the phone call but Magnus was quick to awake when he heard why he had to come in.

They had a witness.

The Killer was short but quick, he managed to kill two seekers of the air force. The information that the survivor gave them was invaluable since it lowered their search down to a small percentage of Cybertronians.

“After he killed my trine something strange happened. It was like a switch was flipped, he was completely different.” The black and purple seeker looked into the cup he was holding, his servos still shaking. “He was a monster that held no remorse, he tore them apart but after he wrote that message on the wall he started shaking like a leaf.”

Magnus hummed, thinking. Skywarp continued. “Then he said ‘oh Primus not again, he did it again. I thought I had him under control’ then he ran away.”

The junior detective was shocked, as were the other officers and detective’s around them. It was clear as day, the Killer of the Damned was a split personality.

“We’re just glad he snapped out of it before he went searching for Warp.” Magnus saw the bleeding and torn apart seekers out of the corner of his optics. “Yeah, it would’ve been tragic if he killed Skywarp, him being sparked and all that. Sad he miscarried though. Would’ve loved to have little us’s running around.”

Magnus covered his face with his hands and breathed deeply. He was getting nowhere. He felt like crying.

“Come on little brother, you can’t give up now.”

His head shot up. On the other side of the table was his brother Dominus Ambus. Victim fifteen.

“Dom, I have nothing. I’ve looked at everything in a hundred different ways and I don’t have a shred of an idea of who it could be.” His brother chuckled. “You know exactly who it is, you just don’t want to believe it.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was known since the beginning that you were dealing with a madman. Then Nosedive and Skydancer were killed and their third Skywarp let you know about the split personality. Stop looking for the Killer of the Damned and start looking for the personality he’s attached to.” Magnus stood up to walk to the other side of the room where his main evidence board was. “But what if I’m wrong.”

“You know who it is Magnus, if you believe then you will never be wrong.”

The junior detective looked hard at the wall where he pinned up papers of evidence and theories. His mind churned, not thinking of who the Killer is but who he could be hiding behind.

The phantom of his brother faded away smiling sadly.

Someone small, physically and mentally. They had to be weak if they couldn’t control him. Someone who was a soldier who knew anatomy. A doctor, no, scientist because of victims nine and four. They had knowledge of chemicals. Due to their reaction to the Killers' work they feel bad, they’re guilty. They would return to the scene of the crime.

No. It couldn’t be.

Victim five, Nylon.

“This is gruesome.” A small mech, no kibble with dirty blond hair. Magnus turned to the mech who was behind the police tape.

“Indeed. The work of this murderer often is. Not many can stomach looking.” The small mech laughed. “I’ve seen my fair share of gruesome things, just can’t believe it would be happening here.”

“Magnus we got something interesting over here!”

“Excuse me, I must be going. Just stay behind the tape.”

It couldn’t.

Victim eight, Hammer.

The mech again. “Hello Detective Magnus.”

“Greetings Jackbox. Why do you keep showing up to these crime scenes?”

“To see if you catch him.”

“Well Jack, not many people know this but the most common rule among criminals is never return to the scene of the crime.”

“This killer could be mad enough. Hey, do you want to go get drinks later?”

“Sure, I’ll call you when I’m off shift.”

Please no. Magnus grasped his head in his hands.

Victim fifteen. Dominus Ambus

“Jack, I don't think I can keep going. Dominus was all I had left.” His head was down against the table, multiple glasses empty of their high grade in front of him. It was a night he could never remember.

“Don’t say that Mags. You’re my only hope, you’re the only one who can catch him.” Jackbox pulled him up and grabbed his collar in his shaking hands. “You’re the only one who can do it.”

“I can’t! The Killer is like a ghost, he hides too well. I can’t, I can’t go on.” His optics were dim. Jackbox grabbed his face and made Magnus look at him. “Catch me Magnus. You’re the only one that can.”

“Magnus? Is something wrong?”

The junior detective turned around and looked at his mentor with teary optics. Jackbox, it was him, but he was so sweet and caring. He listened to Magnus like no one else would. He was the first friend he made on his own. It was all for nothing, Jackbox only got close because he was desperate. Jackbox hated what his other personality was doing and was desperate for it to end.

Magnus didn’t want his friend to go away but he knew what he had to do.

“I know who it is. I figured it out.” Tyrest hugged his student. “You don’t seem too happy about it.”

“It’s Jackbox.” He clutched at his mentor as tears began to fall down his face. “My only friend is the Killer of the Damned, I don’t want him to be treated horribly, it’s not his fault.”

Tyrest let his student cry into his shoulder as he looked around the room. Stacks of boxes full of evidence were piled up around the room, the table was completely covered by papers and all the walls and boards were full of sticky notes and pinned up papers. He knew Magnus was right.

“Oh Magnus. When will Primus give your spark a break from hurt.”

[warmau]

☆ ko-fi request: [nostalgic] summer romance!johnny au

you don’ t think much of it when the neighbors around you start to talk about the new family that’s moved in up across the street

your parents mention welcoming them with some kind of baked good, but that’s the usual

you are a little grumpy when they choose to send you over instead of going over themselves

and when the door is opened by a small women with a glowing smile, you just hand over the cupcakes and motion down the block

“i have a son your age, he’s out right now but you should meet him sometime.”

you give a polite smile and tell her maybe you’ll bump into him on the street someday

you don’t expect that you’ll actually bump into him at the local ice cream parlor

where he’s standing behind the cash register - wearing that funny looking yellow uniform tshirt and still managing to look like the most attractive human being to grace the planet

his name tag reads ‘johnny’ with a hand-drawn smile face beside it 

his hair is slightly long in the front and swopped back under a backwards cap, his smile is just as dazzling as his mothers 

but its his eyes that get you the most, an almost autumn chestnut color that sparkles under the florescent lights off the shop

“what would you like to order?”

you try to hand over your five dollar bill for the one scoop of cookie dough that you got but he shoos your hand away and winks

“cute people get the ice cream for free”

you bite back your lip, “does your boss agree with that?”

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. by the way, thanks for the cupcakes.”

you blink in surprise and he grins again - this time with a hint of mischief 

“you live a couple doors down right?”

you nod slowly, the ice-cream is kind of melting in your hand but you’re so focused on johnny that you don’t even notice

“mm good to know. next?”

you move out of the way, turning to head toward the door

something itches you to look over your shoulder and when you do - you catch johnny peeking your way too

sending you a little goodbye wink as you push the door open and let the summer evening breeze carry you back home

a knock on your door a couple of days laters startles you from your spot on the living room floor - a.c. on full blast to fight off the heat

you think it’s the postman so you don’t care about your rather haphazard appearance - but when you open it

you immediately regret not at least running a hand through your hair (or throwing a blanket over your self) as you see johnny in the door frame

his wide body nearly take up the entire tiny space and he looks you up and down

with a kind of stare that makes something at the core of your stomach twist

“hey - are you free today? my shift at the ice cream place starts at 5 so i was hoping you could hang before then?”

you say you are - but you need to change

johnny pouts, “why, less clothes the better - it’s summer right?”

you don't know if you should roll your eyes or get flustered at the almost greasy one liner 

when you come back downstairs, you grab your keys and take a look in the hallway mirror

you look better than before, but you wish you looked just a little bit cuter - which is new, you’ve never really wished for that before

johnny is still on your porch, but he’s closer to the lawn now 

you don’t even know what he has in mind - or why he’s decided today of all days to invite you out 

the only conversation you’ve ever had was at the ice-cream shop

but for some reason you don’t find yourself second guessing

he nods his head toward the street, where an old but loved car is parked

the top is missing and you look at johnny from the corner of your eye

“is it yours?”

“my dads, but he said if i ever wanted to take someone out - i should do it in style.”

you kind of shift a little and a question burns in the back of your throat - is this a date?

you don’t have the nerve to ask, just letting johnny lead you to the passenger door

“where are we going to go?”

is what you ask instead as he gets the engine going

“where else? the beach!”

the drive is only fifteen minutes, but in that time span you feel like you’re in the slow scene of a movie

your small town has never been interesting, it stopped being new when you turned ten and climbing the rocks and hoping fences became an old habit

you had started instead to dream of big cities and foreign countries - and yet in that second

it had seemed so now, so different

the breeze in your hair, leaning against the door and watching the trees and the people you grew up with fly by in a flash

and then looking over your shoulder to see johnny - the one person you’d just met - feel nostolagically like home

when he’d parked at the edge of the beach you didn’t want to get out almost - but he’d tugged you up and started for a run toward the water

“johnny, i don't have a swimsuit on!”

“here - ill make sure you don’t get wet!”

he’d picked you up effortlessly, wading himself into the water till it was nipping at his ankles and spinning you around

he was a stranger - but he felt like something much more - and it was just natural to wrap your arms around his neck and scream against his skin for him to put you down 

even though you didn’t mean it

you spent the next couple of hours chasing each other through the waves that kissed the sand, collecting shells, and just talking

you told johnny about the people here - the shops - the lack of noise, but the abundance of trees

he told you about where he lived before, how it was sort of the same but something about your town was better

“whats better, you’ve only lived here like a week!”

he grins

“well - you’re here. that already makes it better.”

you hadn’t known it yet - but that was your first date - one of many that spanned the blissful summer break 

you and johnny spent every day of it together

the only times when you were apart where when he was working his part-time job at the ice cream shop

but even then, you’d meet him after work and he’d drive you two around in circles until it was dark

and he’d take you home, but park a block or two away so you could kiss without any interruption

and johnnys kisses became the flavor of that summer for you, sweet from the ice-cream he sampled but with an edge of sharpness that came from his own personality

he’d kiss you pressed against the hood of his car or in the backseat or under the shade of a tree and he had said something to you that you don’t think you’ll ever hear again in your life

“kissing you is so weird, it’s like i want to kiss you so i do but then i just want to kiss you again and again and again, is that normal?”

you’d laughed against his neck - “of course it’s normal. it’s what i feel too.”

that summer was a summer of first, for everything

your first real love - johnny suh, part time ice-cream shop worker and possibly the brightest person on the planet

your first overnight camping trip without parents - spent with johnny suh in a tent on some rock where when you thought there were bears outside, johnny ran out and said he wasn't afraid of them! in fact he wanted to befriend them! and you’d had to yank him back by his shirt because you didn't want your boyfriend to die

your first real experience - hot large hands of johnny suh and cold lips, his parents were gone for the weekend and you’d both agreed that you had to put music on but argued about which album was the right one for the moment. even though you forgot about it the second he kissed below your collarbone

and your first heartbreak - spent crying on johnny’s doorstep as he and his dad lugged suitcases to the car

he was moving again, he’d only been here for a couple of months

the autumn leaves were just turning brown, school was starting again, life was moving forward and johnny had kissed your forehead

he was moving across the world. he would do anything to take you with him, but you two were young and there were no choices

“ill always remember you - this will be the best summer of my life.”

you look back on it now, how he’d said that and so much more to you

and you wonder, where is he now? he’s probably happy. you hope he’s happy.

you look up from your place in line at the coffee shop and are happy to see that you’re next. 

“what would you like to order?”

that voice? no way?

your eyes meet the honey warm glow of autumn chestnuts. the name tag with the hand-drawn happy face. you freeze and time stops. 

you’re not an adult anymore, you’re the teenager in the ice-cream shop 

and johnny is standing there in that funny uniform tshirt with a smile.

“cute people get the coffee for free.”

[mckinlily]

.match

Alteans marks are the source and subject of many legends. Cellica, they are called. Babies are born with skin entirely unadorned; the cheek marks are the first to appear about the same time the babies begin to sit up. They start as lighter patches of skin that quickly develop the stiffer, smoother texture of cellica. When the cellica develop to their full fledged color, the baby is taken to the local Priestess for their Naming Ceremony, where they are officially recognized as part of Altea. Throughout childhood and into the beginning of puberty, other marks appear. Along their arms, down their back, over their legs and hips. Although most cheek marks look the same from Altean to Altean, the others vary. The general placement and symmetry remains the same, but some are rounder, some more angular. Some come in continuous lines while others are broken up in patterns.

There’s a lot of superstition about cellica. Only those found on the cheeks are shown to the public--the rest are reserved for partners, family members, and very close friends. There is an old superstition that the shape of your cellica reflect the shape of your soul; to see one’s cellica is to see the essence their soul. Old wives tales and folk lore talk of evil alchemists using the shapes of one’s cellica to cast spells on them. Those tales are considered works of fictions these days, but the general belief--that these are something personal, private, to be shared only under the conditions of greatest trust--remains. The most personal marks are considered to be those that reside on the inside of one’s wrist. These marks tend to be slimmer, more delicate and intricate, and even the most brazen Altean who many be willing to walk with both their arms bare for the viewing will cover their wrists with bands or bangles. Hands are no longer so very scandalous as they once were, but most Alteans will still wear gloves. Even Allura’s fingerless gloves were considered risqué by certain members of the court when she first donned them, but she considered them quite old fashioned.

But other superstitions are more fun. There is a whole market of books and holo-vids and lectures claiming to “interpret” cellica ranging from personality to romance and destiny. The scientific community agrees that cellica are merely the result of random genetic variation and seem to serve a purpose in channelling and keeping one’s quintessence at a healthy level. While this is generally known by the public, is has done nothing to stop the public interest in cellica readings, rather like the Altean equivalent of horoscopes. Sure, everyone knows it’s basically nonsense, but it’s fun to imagine, is it not?

And the most persistent and enticing superstition is that the shape of your cellica will match those of your soulmate. Skeptics will point out that the definition of a match is left so vague and the variation between marks so common, that it is possible to claim any two people’s cellica “match.” Which, indeed, is exactly what happens. Some poor souls spend their whole lives chasing the perfect match or believing they match anyone they come in contact with. But most often, partners choose each other first and then find the similarities that “prove” their cellica compatibility later, thus perpetuating the legend. There are a multiple schools of thought theorizing which marking styles are compatible, which complement each other, which ones should never go together. And thus it is entirely possible for any combination of partners to confidently claim they were “fated.”

Like most children, Allura grew up imagining of the day she would share her cellica marks with someone special. She had little interest in courting and romance now, caught up as she was in studying and training and all the other duties that came with being a princess, but later (whenever later happened to be) she dreamed of baring her arms to someone she loved while they did the same and tracing out the similarities drawn in their skin. 

But then there was the Galra and the war--even if she had wanted to court, she didn’t have the time--and then waking up ten thousand years later to a people who were gone and a war that was still waging. Any thoughts of soulmates and romance were completely wiped from her mind, replaced by righteous fury, vengeance, and the need to survive. 

Allura keeps busy: planning battles, training the paladins, and most of all, trying to develop her new skills with quintessence. Alchemy had always been something other people did. Allura was more interested in fighting or flying or even law and diplomacy. But now her magic is essential to their survival and all she has to go off of are vague memories and Haggar. She is determined and desperate, racing to learn as much as she can because what she doesn’t know could be what gets someone killed. 

(...one of the paladins killed. Allura had never thought of finding family outside the one her blood gave her, never thought she’d need to, but they wormed their way in and they can’t--she can not lose them now.)

Allura may not know much about alchemy and magic, but it doesn’t take long for her to realize one of her cellica have changed. Where once was a delicate half-moon of shimmery pink inside her wrist is now a disfigured blob, duller and smeared like spilled oil. Horror strikes sharp pain in her sternum that works its way into something heavier and colder as she remembers Haggar’s red and jagged marks. In a sick way, it makes sense. Cellica have always been connected to quintessence, and she has been using more and in ways she had never imagined. Perhaps if she had someone older, someone knowledgeable and experienced to guide her, she could learn the tricks or skills or whatever it is to avoid it. But she doesn’t. She’s completely alone, the only other alchemist being Haggar, and she has to learn because otherwise innocent people will die.

Allura will never run away from the people who need her. Not again.

So she fights, and she learns. She battles Haggar to a standstill and tries so, so hard not to look at her arms. But sometimes she can’t avoid it, and she can hardly bare what she finds. The delicate, intricate cellica on the insides of her wrists are shattered now. Some splatter like spilled numvil, others have gone dull and sickly grey. New marks, disfigured and without symmetry smear over her arms and into her palms. They look like dead things, pressed into her skin and now a part of her. Some marks start out pink but turn grey-white and misshapen, and that’s somehow worse.

Allura tells no one. She knows that cellica are simply a quirk of genetics, that they have no bearing on the worth or character of a person, and that there had been those when Altea was still alive with disfigured or missing cellica who lived perfectly happy, valuable lives. It doesn’t change how she feels. Tainted, defiled, broken. She can’t even bring it up to Coran, the shame too much for her to bear. It was well known that when an Altean loved someone, truly loved them, and in moments of greatest intimacy, their cellica could light up like a personal galaxy. Allura has known since she first woke up that she will likely never have someone to glow for her, but she must now face the fact that she will never be able to glow for anyone else. Not without looking more patchy than starry and highlighting the broken and dead places where her cellica should be. The idea of it repulses her. She’s incapable of love like she wants--like she should--and she feels so broken, tainted and alone. 

But she can’t stop. Whatever she does, she won’t stop until the Galra are defeated and the universe is free again. If the personal cost is her marks and her soul, so be it. It is no one’s burden but hers. She wears her sleeves long and tight, says nothing, and carries on because that was what she was built to do.

Or, at least, that was what she meant to do. But the paladins are nothing if not unpredictable and perhaps no one more so than Shiro. He’s patient and thoughtful. Strong enough to survive the arena, the Galra, and everything they throw at him. And stronger still to remain kind through it all. He’s her strongest ally (tied with Coran), and over time becomes her closest confidant. They discuss the war and the strategies they need to survive, but their conversations frequently turn to something more. Shiro is curious about Altean history and culture and willing to listen no matter how long she babbles on. And although he doesn’t ask and she certainly doesn’t mean to tell, she ends up retelling old folk tales which leads to myths and cellica.

“There’s this old superstition that your cellica will match those of your soul mate,” she says.

“Is it rude to ask someone what their cellica look like?”

“Yes,” says Allura. She remembers her own cellica, damaged and meaningless now. She sighs.“Though perhaps not in my case.”

“Because you’re the princess?” says Shiro, looking adorably earnest and confused.

Allura almost laughs at him, but she can’t. Instead, she wraps a hand around the wrist where the damage is greatest. “No,” she says. “Because they won't match anyone anymore. Even if I did find more Alteans. They’re--they’re ruined.”

“Oh,” says Shiro. He doesn’t quite reach out for her, but his face emotes empathy.

And Allura doesn’t know why she does it, but she removes her gloves and pushes her sleeves up. The sleeves are too tight to get past her elbow, but it’s enough. Her ugly, shattered and disfigured cellica are on display. She holds them out to Shiro saying, “They’re supposed to be pink. And symmetric--” symmetry had always been important, no matter who you asked “--and not like this.” 

Shiro takes her hands, eyebrows pulling together as he scans over her arms and then back to her face. “Is this from the war?”

“Fighting Haggar,” Allura confirms. “The damage has stopped spreading mostly, but...” But it was there, irreversible, the price paid.

Shiro’s expression is sad but too deep to be pity. And he doesn’t tell her she shouldn’t have done it: he as well as anyone knows the costs of war. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly instead.

“It’s...” Allura means to say “it’s fine,” but Shiro is gentle and here, and it all comes tumbling out. The stories and the fear, the superstitions, the glowing and how she will never be able to show someone her love without also reminding them of how she was broken, and the way she feels tarnished, less of a person.

Shiro listens through all of this, his eyes moving between her face and her arms and back again. He’d asked if it was all right for him to touch her marks, and Allura hadn’t said no, but she hadn’t quite said yes either, so he remained, only holding her hands and gently squeezing her fingers. 

Eventually, Allura removes one of her hands to wipe at her eyes. She feels exhausted and heavy, and while sharing has lifted some of the burden, it’s also opened wounds she had been trying so hard to ignore.

Shiro hasn’t spoken in a while. Finally, he gets up, and Allura has the sudden, irrational fear that he’s leaving.

“Close your eyes,” he says. “Or just...” he hitches his shoulders uncomfortably, “don’t look.”

He turns his back on her, but then Allura realizes he’s messing with the hem of his shirt and she immediately looks away, cheeks hot. The idea of Shiro taking off his shirt, even if she isn’t looking, even if humans have very different standards of privacy is horribly embarrassing. She can hardly bare to hear the rustle of his clothes. 

Shiro huffs a soft laugh. “Okay, you can look now.”

He’s sitting in front of her again. His shirt is off, but he still has on the vest he normally wears on top of it, thank the Ancients. Allura is in no way ready to see all the skin of his chest right now. 

Allura is so distracted by her embarrassment, it takes her a minute to notice that Shiro is holding out his hands to her the same way she had to him earlier.

“I know it’s not the same, but...” He trails off, his lip caught between his teeth like he’s nervous.

It occurs to Allura that she’s never seen Shiro’s bare arms. She never questioned it before. He was the oldest of the paladins, and though Allura now knows that humans don’t have marks or any reason to cover their arms as they get older, it simply made sense to her that Shiro’s would be covered. But they’re bare now, and Allura is looking. Most noticeable, of course, is the Galra arm, the silver metal that she had seen before, though now she could also seen the red, scarred, and puffy skin where the metal meets flesh. The sight pains her.

But the other arm is possibly worse. There are scars running from a shiny welt behind his thumb to the gnarled knot over his shoulder. They come in all shapes and sizes, some patterned like claw marks, others smears as if entire chunks got melted or burned away. Still others arc and fracture like electricity. There’s a whole world of pain and endurance and torture in just one arm, and Allura has to be mindful of her strength so that she doesn’t crush his hands in her fury. 

“Just...” says Shiro when she doesn’t respond. He shrugs uncomfortably, looking both nervous and tentatively hopeful. “I’m not symmetric either. We match.”

We match. Allura’s eyes meet his. His smile is nervous--no, embarrassed. His shoulders hunch in even as he holds his arms out to her, and Allura realizes he keeps his scars covered for the same reason she hides hers. Because they feel shameful, tainted, and reminders of pain and trauma. 

And yet Allura doesn’t see Shiro as broken. She can’t. He is the strongest person she has ever known, and she takes a certain, vicious pride in knowing he was strong enough survive this--that he came back to them and leads and fights with them now. The scars are proof that the Galra tried to destroy him. But they didn’t. Shiro is still here, noble and determined as ever, and lending his strength to keep them going every day.

Allura looks down at where their hands rest between them, both covered in random, ugly and disfigured marks. Shiro is right: they do match. Not because of any lore, but because they have both fought--and lost and suffered and picked themselves up and kept fighting because they refuse to be defeated. These are marks they wear so that others won’t have to. Marks of sacrifice, of love and determination.

Both of them would die to save the universe. But they haven’t. They have lived.

Allura gently squeezes Shiro’s fingers. She doesn’t have words, but she doesn’t have to because Shiro understands. For the first time since her first cellica changed, she doesn’t feel so very alone.

“Thank you,” she says softly.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Shiro takes his arms back, tucking them against his chest. His cheeks are red, and he ducks his head. “I know it isn’t pretty.”

Allura places her hand on his shoulder. Seeing the same emotions in Shiro and reflected back at her is strange but also freeing. “Shiro,” she says. “Nothing about you is ugly or shameful. I promise you.”

Shiro’s eyes look over-bright for a moment, but he still smiles. “The same is true of you, Allura. A million times over. We are so incredibly lucky to have you.”

It’s Allura’s turn to blush, and a few spots among her ruined cellica lighten, a disjointed attempt to glow. But this time, next to Shiro who has scars and loss of his own, she doesn’t feel so very broken.

Allura still wears her sleeves long. She will probably never show her cellica to anyone, even though Coran and the paladins are as good as family. The loss is still deep. But when she looks across the bridge, Shiro is there, with his own dark sleeves and hidden pain, and when he catches her looking, his eyes gleam with determination.

They may not both be Altean, but they have clearly been marked by the universe in their unique ways. They match, and perhaps that’s all cellica and soulmates are about in the end: a promise neither one of them is alone. 

[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay Chapter 19, Traximus

Summary: The Turtles meet a dinosaur

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @ilo-artistry @unhealthyobsessions101

Content warnings: swears

Bubble, bubble, bubble went the water as it swelled and displaced. Weapons were drawn, and the katana in Leonardo’s hand felt as foreign as if someone had just given him a book in Chinese and instructed him to read it. The handle was smaller than his odachi, and the blade was shorter, and it was thinner, and its weight was lighter, almost nothing. Still, a weapon was a weapon, even if he naturally navigated toward the back of the crowded group to put a wall of muscle between him and whatever was emerging from the cesspool.

There came two curved horns as long as Leonardo’s arm and as thick as Leo’s at the base, curved forward and angled close together. The gap between then formed an almost triangle shape. First came the horns, and then came an apricot head that rivaled the size of a small car, revealing a third smaller horn on the tip of a muzzle just before heavy, meaty flesh parted to a hard, bony beak. The head shook from size to side, a loud whoosh resulting as the broad frill caught the air. Further still the triceraton revealed himself.

His shoulders were as wide as the frill on his head, and he had a torso that could be mistaken for a brick wall. He was clothed in a red and orange regalia that could have once been a beautiful suit but was now stained with waste and ruin, heavy from the submergence. His nostrils flared to blow away the water that still cascaded along his muscular form, his breaths coming in heavy and labored grunts. Donnie couldn’t help but take notice of many wires hanging loosely around the triceratons shoulders, several of them severed or otherwise damaged; what use could they have once served? The options were limitless!

The triceraton didn't charge, but the clan held their ground. Eyes of an impossibly bright emerald sought something among the group; what that something was was anyone’s guess, but it must have been important. Apparently it was Donnie that held what the alien sought, because when his eyes found the box turtle they stopped searching. His head bowed and the turtles once more braced themselves for a charge. The triceraton lifted his arms up to his horns, arching his fingers downward so they formed an inverted triangle; joined with the angling of his horns, a diamond shape was revealed.

“Awaiting… orders… general Mozar.” He sounded as if he had swallowed a cheese grater.

Raph’s confusion disturbed the unyielding stance. “Who?”

All eyes gleaned over at Donnie. The box turtle paled at all the attention suddenly on him, his throat drying and a visible drop of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Dudes this is so weird…” Mikey breathed.

“Woah!” Despite the many shouts of discouragement and several attempts to stop Michelangelo, the box turtle made his way to the front of the group to oggle the still giant. “How can we understand you?! Is there some super cool alien translation device?!”

“Actually Michael, I think he’s just speaking english.” Donatello commented absently.

“Oh.” Michelangelo deflated, “That’s less fun.”

The giant seemed to tolerate Michelangelo’s presence surprisingly well; that is to say, he didn't immediately try to beat the young turtle into a puddle.

“Should we be concerned that he’s not, you know… pummeling us right now?” Raphael asked, his hands still fixed firmly on his tonfa.

“Don’t let your guard down.” Leo whispered to the group, “He still might.”

“I don’t think he will.” Leonardo said, and his eyes were locked on the dinosaur as if seeing something no one else could.

“Excuse me?” With a hand perched on his hip, Leo addressed Leonardo’s words with scrutiny.

“Donnie.” Leonardo said to the box turtle, “Raise your hand…”

Donnie, though confused, raised his hand. The triceraton lowered his strange salute and raised his hand; Donnie leaned curiously to the side, and the dinosaur leaned to the side. Donnie leaned to the other side, and the dinosaur followed, like a baby mimicking its mother.

“Ooookay, things just got a whole lot weirder.” Mikey whistled.

“Guys, you remember that one really red triceraton?” Donnie asked quickly without removing his eyes from the ten foot giant before him. “The one with the lopsided horns?”

“Yeah, the leader.” Leo said just as quick as Donnie, just as urgent.

Donnie didn't answer verbally, but made a point of motioning to the goggles perched on his head, the lopsided lenses glistening.

“Aaaaand sidebar!” Despite being the smallest of all eight gathered, Leonardo was able to wrap his arms around the other mutants and whisk them to the side while Traximus returned to his unsteady salute. “Okay bros; how we feeling ‘bout this?”

“That dino dude’s acting weird…” Mikey said, and made a point of enunciating the last word,

“Yeah, like Mikey weird.” Raph whistled.

“Hey.” Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“And his gears all busted up.” Donnie reported, “He doesn’t have his mask on anymore for one.”

“And why is he playing some twisted version of Simon Says with Donnie?” Raph’s words came with a sharp scoff.

“Maybe he’s friendly?” Michelangelo offered up.

“Unlikely.” Donatello disagreed.

“Well the robot was nice.” Michelangelo pointed out.

“That is a fair point.” Leonardo nodded and agreed.

“And what’s that meant to be, some kinda salute?” Raph lifted his head from the group to look back at the giant. “An’ why does he think Don’s this ‘Mozar’ or whatever?”

Donatello cleared his throat to call everyone’s attention. “I would like to offer a theory if I may?”

“Yeah, shoot.” Raphael said.

“You mentioned something about a mask.” Donatello said, holding one hand over his mouth and nose to resemble a mask, “Like, a cloth mask or an oxygen mask?”

“Uh, oxygen.” Donnie nodded his confirmation.

“Right.” Donatello nodded, and pointed over at the dinosaur. “I see no oxygen tank. If he had one to begin with, it’s gone now, and yet he’s still up and walking.”

“I… don’t remember any oxygen tank.” Leo shook his head.

“That’s because it probably wasn’t an oxygen mask. Not if all five of your dinosaurs were wearing ‘em in a place where there was quite clearly oxygen. That, my dear friends, is a pattern, not a coincidence. If they all had it, chances are it’s some sort of filter, like they’re meant to be breathing something that’s not our air. And if someone from our planet breathes in something that isn’t oxygen…”

“It kills them?” Leo wasn’t following.

“Yes, and no. How about you?” Donatello pointed at Donnie.

“It can cause… delirium, confusion… hallucinations…” Donnie was following perfectly.

“Who’s to say the effects aren’t the same for someone like him?”

“You’re saying he’s deprived of some type of breathing apparatus?” Donnie’s eyes lit up like the skies on the Fourth of July, “It makes sense!”

“And it would explain the confusion.” Leonardo said.

Leo, wanting desperately to get on to a more important subject, urged, “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“Yes.” Donatello answered confidently, “But he also thinks dear Donald here is his beloved General Mozar, and we should keep it that way.”

“General…” The dinosaur called,. “Awaiting orders…”

“Uh. At ease?” Donnie offered.

The dinosaur stared at him for the longest time, trying to decipher why his bold and brash commander had spoken so strangely before lowering his arms to his side. Donnie cleared his throat and stepped forward away from the group, trying to make himself as big as possible which wasn’t much of a task for the tree-like turtle.

“Remind me of your name and rank again, soldier.” Donnie’s voice slowly gained more confidence and tone, and the dinosaur seemed to be excited by it.

“Major Traximus of the Ygthian fleet, serving our great and powerful Prime Leader.”

“That’s right.” It felt almost fun being in a position of power, and it quickly went to Donnie’s head. “My command for you, Major Traximus, is to help me escort these… diplomats back to their home.”

“Yes Commander Mozar…” Traximus bowed the immensity of his head. “As you command…”

Though one could expect a beast of such immense proportion to lumber at an awkward gait, it was quite the opposite as Traximus walked with such speed and determination. The turtles parted to allow him plenty of space to pass by them. He was a man— or alien— on a mission that would stop for nothing. Glances were exchanged, followed by ‘what else are we gonna do?’ shrugs and curious excitement as the turtles were quick to keep up with the charging titan.

“How’d he get through anyway?” Raph asked; he was the one now holding Splinter, cradling the rat to his chest and still working absently to dry his fur.

“He was the one chasing us back in our world.” Leo said, “Maybe he got through the rift, ended up in the sewers. Lord knows the time rift had ask of us scattered to the winds.”

“Awesome…” Mikey breathed, followed up with, “I told you he was out here!”

“Yeah…” Both Leo and Raph faltered their steps, “You did…”

They made good time getting back to the lair where Yoshi and April were sat together at the living room coffee table assembling a puzzle; it was one activity that Yoshi didn't need help with, since the pieces were so big and obvious, and the old rat took great pride in each success. April, like her turtle brothers, had grown and matured greatly. She had forgone her usual buns in favor of tight braids clinging to her scalp and cascading to just above her shoulders, and she wore a modest yellow jumpsuit and rubber rain boots, perfect for traversing the wet ick of the sewer. One thing was familiar about her, however, and it was that same green coat she had been wearing since her younger adolescent. April looked up when she heard their approach, the smile turning to her mouth hanging open and her eyes bulging.

“Holy Jurassic Park…”

Leonardo took Splinter from Raph’s arm and immediately whisked him away, leaving Raph with his empty arms still out in a cradle, pouting and desperately pawing at the air that had once been his dad. Donnie parted from the group and tried follow Leonardo to the infirmary, but the red eared slider stopped him.

“I got him; you and the guys take care of our little… guest over there.” And Leonardo motioned to Traximus, who was still and awaiting orders.

“Oh. Right.” Donnie watched Leonardo leave like a distressed puppy watching his owner go to work without him. Seeking some guidance, Donnie turned to his brother. “Leo?”

“Maybe we… get him something to eat?” Leo offered.

“What do dinosaurs eat anyway?” Raph huffed; now without anything to hold, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Nothing that still exists.” Donnie muttered bitterly, and his eyes passed over the orange dinosaur trying to make better sense of the alien presence.

“Well, he is an alien dinosaur.” Michelangelo pointed, “Maybe he eats something different.”

“If it’s alien, it still won’t be on our planet, Michael.” Donatello added.

“Oh.” Michelangelo’s expression deflated.

“But we can still try.” Leo said, arms motioning widely as he called attention to himself, “We need to make his comfortable before we can get anything out of him.”

“Are we sure he even knows anything?” Donatello asked, and he was looking absently at his nails, “Doesn’t look like there’s much happening upstairs.”

It was true that Traximus’ eyes did look remarkably empty, but Donnie wasn’t convinced he was completely gone. The dinosaur could talk, and could obey orders, even if he couldn’t recognize them as not being from his own species. And they had been there for two days now! He didn't know a damn thing about alien triceratops digestion, or how long they could go without food, but he did know a thing or two about empathy. Did this triceraton need food? Maybe. Water? Maybe. Donnie would make sure the creature didn't go without either.

“Major Traximus?”

The triceraton snorted and shook his head as he brought his focus to attention at the call of his commander.

“Would you care to… indulge in… sustenance?” Donnie tried to choose his words carefully, but it was difficult, if not impossible, with knowing next to nothing about who he was meant to be portraying.

Traximus tilted his head to one side, and then the other. “Commander Mozar…?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Donnie gulped, raising his head a little higher and keeping his expression still and serious. With eyes as beady and small as Traximus’, he wasn’t sure the alien could even see him. “You must be hungry soldiers. Follow me to the… dining room and select something to eat.”

Without another word, Donnie turned on his heels and guided the way to the kitchen. Traximus, confusion evident on all of his features, trailed behind with the gaggle of curious turtles following him. They got to the kitchen and he surpassed Donnie, intent on obeying the command and maybe just plain starving as he pulled the fridge door open— more like ripped it off its hinges— and began to dig around inside. The turtles watched in curious awe.

Now that they weren’t in immediate danger of being trampled and crushed by this titan of a creature, it was like they couldn’t stop watching him. Something not human, not yokai, not mutant— something new! You didn't have to be Donnie to see the beauty in this new creature, nor to feel a desperate urge to know more and more about them! Raphael was practically exploding with excitement. He had always wanted to be so close to a dinosaur but now it was happening? He could hardly breathe! The kitchen was barely big enough for them all, but they managed to crowd around in such a way that they all could get a good view of what was happening.

Traximus picked up the gallon of milk first, shaking it a bit and then promptly discarding it. In fact, he discarded all the liquid, tossing drinks behind him and letting them shatter and spill over the floor. Not even Michelangelo cared about the mess made of his precious ingredients— not when it was this beautifully intricate creature doing it! Once all the liquid contents were out of his way, Traximus began a long pattern of selecting food, taking a bite, deciding he didn't like it, and tossing it carelessly. This process continued on until the fridge was almost barren and Michelangelo was finally regretting not intervening sooner. One of the final things left in the fridge, chili peppers, were the next thing Traximus grabbed.

“Wait— maybe you shouldn’t—” Raphael tried a little too late, as Traximus was already shoving a handful into his mouth, stems and seeds and all.

Everyone cringed, even Raph— who had taken on a hot pepper challenge many times again Leo and always somehow lost (he lost because Leo had switched out all of his own peppers for sweet peppers, but Leo would never admit that). They waited for the burn, for the scream, for the desperate scramble to find coolness. Instead, Traximus chomped happily and his mouth began to drool in response to the burning stimuli, his lips curling up as his tongue poked out to lap up all the drool that tried to escape. He dumped the rest of the basket into his mouth and dove back into the fridge in pursuit of more burning delights.

“We have a winner.” Raph said with a satisfied smirk.

Michelangelo’s eyes were firmly fixed on the mess at their feet. “And we have no dinner…”

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 6

Boss level, here we go!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

First | Previous | Next

Chapter 6: Stranger danger!

It was a good thing Jason hadn’t taken his weapons or armor out of his inventory last night. He opened his inventory and donned a crimson cloak. Approaching the midtown news stand, he paid for a paper advertising the location of the first level dungeon and continued on his way.

Skimming the headline, it sounded like he had to go to the northeast mountains to find the entrance. The team hadn’t been able to justify buying horses yet, so he’d have to go on foot. Fine by him, more time to walk off his bad mood. And work out a plan.

He’d be in and out, just to see what type of a threat they were dealing with. He wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t about to just wait around for Dick if he wasn’t going to make a move until they knew exactly what they were facing.

Jason put the paper away and pulled his hood over his head, the red fabric concealing his face. He had reached the road leading north out of town. He took a swig of water from his canteen, which he noted was half-full, and set out.

The walk was almost pleasant, if not for the number of travellers-- both players and NPCs alike-- that he ran into. He couldn’t be sure of their intentions, especially towards a lone player, so he’d duck into the nearest ditch or bush for cover until they’d passed.

The sun warmed his dark cloak, but not uncomfortably so. It felt like springtime here in the game, with tulips and wild daffodils blooming in small clusters by the road. Jason knew he should be back before dark, but that was a long ways away. He kept checking his compass to make sure he was heading the right way, but the path was very easy.

In the distance, he began to see mountains. Pulling out the paper he’d gotten from that morning, he checked that the dungeon entrance was along the slope of one of the mountains. When he reached a crossroads, he adjusted his course accordingly.

By then, his anger had all but faded. He still didn’t agree with Dick and he definitely still thought he was an ass, but he didn’t want to rip his head off over it. Literally. God, what a mess.

He stopped to buy some fresh bread from a family farm of NPCs a few miles before the base of the mountains. What a thorough game it was to have given the three children dimples. He wondered how much information their programming gave them. Did they know the players were forcefully kept here? Did they live the same, simple day-to-day lives? Or did they simply stop moving when players weren’t looking, like cheap animatronics.

Jason shook his head. Too much time alone with his thoughts was never a good idea. He almost missed the company of the others. He’d even settle for Garfield, that obnoxious green punk.

He sighed and continued on his way. It wasn’t even halfway, but there was no way in hell he’d turn around now. Every step he took was a step closer to getting out of this... admittedly pleasant hellscape.

A flock of birds lifted off from a field on his right. They swirled about in the sky, fluid as fabric. Each one moved on its own path and yet fit in as part of the whole. He stopped, watching the ebb and flow as they journeyed to find the next field to settle on.

That would never be him, a cog in the machine, no matter how beautiful. He had put his faith in people before and quite literally gotten burned for it. He scowled at the memory, a crowbar and a grin flashing through his mind. No, he was better off fending for himself. Always had been.

He decided to count his steps instead of face his thoughts for the remainder of the trip.

732 steps to the base of the mountain. He picked the leftmost path.

1056 steps until he needed to grapple around a rockslide.

409 steps before the mouth of a cave. The cave.

Jason confirmed one more time that this was the suspected entrance to the dungeon. He put away the paper, took a deep breath, and plunged into the darkness.

It was cold and damp. He didn’t want to risk a light, so he put a hand to the freezing walls as he walked. He tested every step with his toe, trying to avoid potential falls into the darkness in front of him.

Silence drew in around him, heavy and expectant. It dared him to light a torch and rush forward to face the boss himself. He knew it was a bad idea, but it called to the energy humming in his blood.

He breathed and pictured colors.

In and out, he would be in and out, just like his breaths.

It was hard to think of the cave as anything other than the grave he’d once been confined to, but stretching out both arms helped.

In and out.

He pictured blue.

The ceiling seemed to press down on him, nausea rising in his throat.

Blue skies and blue waters. He wasn’t trapped in here, he was free. Free as the birds in the fields.

Just when he thought he couldn’t stand it anymore, he glimpsed a faint light ahead. It flickered around a bend in the cave, and illuminated the stalactites that were over twenty feet above his head.

The cold sweat that coated his back started to dry, the tightness in his throat loosening. Taking in a deep breath of stale air, he surged towards that light.

He rounded the corner, crossbow drawn and ready. The light came from a burning torch, barely a stub left. The sound of metal clashing on metal caught his trained ears and his head whipped up.

An enormous doorway stood in front of him, huge doors left ajar. He saw a flash of movement beyond them. The noises were also clearer now, shouting punctured by roars that shook the walls. Pulling the hood of his cloak further over his face, he silently advanced.

Peering through the gap between the doors, he made quick work of taking it all in. The room was a long hallway, lined with tall columns and lit by torches. There were some rocks scattered about, which would provide good cover from the massive beast before him.

The monster was about fourteen feet tall of ugly with a large, red belly. It wore armored greaves and wielded a huge axe and a round shield. Its face had a dog-like snout framed by a form-fitting helmet. Red eyes glowed from within the helmet, and slobber dribbled from pointed teeth.

So basically a medieval Killer Croc. This was doable.

Jason was about to leave and report back when he heard a shout. “Kitty, ‘Gami, cover me!”

Before he could unpack that hell of a battle cry, a figure in black armor darted out from behind a column. They blew a raspberry at the boss, then somersaulted and wove just out of reach from its enraged blows. At the same time, someone with red and gold armor drew a rapier and began slicing at the boss’s feet.

A slight person with red armor stood from where they’d been crouched behind a rock on the far side of the room. They fired a longbow with devastating accuracy, and Jason watched in profile as the arrow pierced the monster’s eye. They disappeared just as fast.

The boss roared and started swinging wildly. The red and gold fighter danced out of the way, but tripped over a piece of rubble. Jason’s eyes widened as the monster gleefully brought its axe down upon the felled player.

It never met its target. The black armored person dove over their friend and raised a shield. The blow sent the two flying back to the columns, where they quickly limped for cover.

From Jason’s vantage point, he could see a figure in blue armor dart over to the two injured fighters. They shook their head, then whistled a series of notes. Answering whistles came from the last place he’d seen the red archer, and the three people stayed put.

“Queenie, Maneuver 18!” The archer, a girl he now realized, yelled. A fifth person, this one in golden armor, leapt onto the monster’s head from the top of a column near the ceiling. They took a flail out of their inventory and bashed the boss’s good eye, then flipped down to find cover opposite of the archer. All the while, the archer ran along the length of the hall, firing shots into the monster’s gut.

She slid neatly behind the rocks in front of Jason and glanced at the boss behind them. It was blinded now, bellowing furiously. The girl’s chest heaved with the effort of running.

With three of their fighters out of commission, he didn’t like their odds. Well, so much for in and out. Dick was going to kill him for this.

Jason waved until the girl in front of him noticed the movement. Her mouth, the only part of her face that wasn’t covered by her helmet, parted in surprise.

He somersaulted to join her spot of cover and said quietly, “I can help.” The monster had quieted down now and seemed to be listening intently.

She nodded, then pointed at him and then to his right. Pointed to herself, then to the left. She looked at him to verify he’d understood and he gave a thumbs up. 

She picked up a handful of pebbles and tossed them in front of the rocks they hid behind. The monster pricked up its ears and began advancing towards their hiding spot. She held up a fist to have them wait. The boss grew closer and still she held. Jason could feel its hot breath through his cloak before she finally whispered, “Now!” and launched herself to the left. Jason dove aside just in time. He fired his crossbow at the monster’s chest and could see the girl doing the same on its other side. It had left itself open in burying its axe in the rocks they’d been at mere moments before.

Damn this girl was good.

He watched her exchange her bow for a pair of daggers. The beast’s arms still busied trying to get its axe unstuck, she flipped onto them and ran up its back. Jason fired more bolts into it, keeping its attention while she--

Oh damn. This girl was really good.

She flipped her daggers around and dragged them through its skin behind her as she slid down its back. Then she danced away behind a column, switching back to a longbow and firing arrows into its exposed arms.

Jason grinned, letting the thrill in his blood take over for a moment. He exchanged his own ranged weapon for a shortsword, and started hacking away at the monster’s legs. Where the red archer went high, he went low. They accommodated each other perfectly. He glanced up to see the boss’s HP depleting to nearly zero.

While he swung his sword and dodged out of the monster’s reach, he noticed how much more focused he felt, despite having freed the roaring in his veins. It seemed that the Pit didn’t have as much of a hold on him while he was in the game. A small victory, but staying in control was more than useful here.

The beast turned around just as Jason swung his sword, and it broke against the monster’s shield. A rush of movement beside him was the golden fighter, sinking their flail into the beast’s back. They wrenched it free only to whirl around and use the momentum to plant it in the monster’s stomach.

That blow did it in. It staggered backwards, wounds glowing bright red, and shattered into fragmented pixels. A menu screen popped up in front of him displaying his share of the loot, which looked to be proportional to how many blows he had landed.

Jason looked at the other two. The golden one had already rushed back to where their injured companions were, but the red one remained.

“Thank you,” she held out her hand to him with a smile. He took it and shook once. “It was my pleasure,” he rasped, still catching his breath. He raised his broken sword and asked, “You don’t happen to know a blacksmith, do you?”

She held up one finger, then ran off back into the rubble, searching for something. When she returned, she held the other pieces of his sword. “I can mend it, if you’d like,” she offered, almost shyly.

He nodded and handed his piece to her, hilt first. She assembled all the fragments on the ground, then placed both hands over it and inhaled deeply. As she breathed in, the pieces were pulled inward to their original positions as if magnetized to each other. She breathed out just as deeply, and the cracks between the pieces glowed blue.

The glow faded when she picked it up and handed it back to him. He twirled it around a few times just to be sure, but it felt as good as new. Maybe even better. “That was... amazing. Thank you,” he said, sincerely grateful.

She smiled and replied, “It’s the least I could do. It’s a type of magic I learned called Restorative Alchemy, if you’re interested!” That was definitely something worth looking into. “I also put a little bit of magic in it, so when it’s hit like that again, it--”

“Lady!” A girlish, high-pitched shout came from the player in golden armor. She ran back over to the two of them and tugged the girl away. “Stranger danger!” she muttered pointedly.

The red archer tried to respond, “Well we wouldn’t have won without hi--” But the other girl cut her off, “Shush, we don’t even know who he is!” The archer gave a long-suffering sigh.

Jason took the opportunity to leave while their backs were turned. He’d intruded enough, and he didn’t really care to learn their names.

As he disappeared back into the cave, he thought he heard someone say, “Oh! He’s gone....”

* * *

Marinette watched the doors in the boss dungeon, wondering why that strange man had left so soon. She blinked and turned her attention back to her injured friends. Adrien had taken that hit for Kagami, and even though it was to his shield, he’d need a lot of rest before his arm was in working condition again.

The fight was costly. Luka had run out of healing potions, putting more than half of the team out of commission. It had just been her and Chloe left fighting. She wasn’t sure if they would’ve made it, let alone won without that stranger showing up....

“How’s it looking, boss?” Adrien’s hiss of pain pulled her from her thoughts. She crouched down beside him while Luka treated the arm with what simple herbs he had on hand.

Luka finished tying a sling and stood. “You’re going to be fine. Keep it still for a few days. We’ll get you some health potions when we get back to the house. Kagami, can you stand?”

The girl in question used to column to get up on her feet, but kept her weight off her left. That must have been the one she’d tripped on. “I can stand, but I’ll need help to walk,” she said through gritted teeth.

A costly fight indeed. Marinette moved to slide her arm under Kagami’s and supported her. “We just need to make it back to the horses,” she murmured to her friend.

God, her friend. Her friends had gotten hurt because her plan failed. They had no idea what they were walking into, and she had almost gotten them all killed because of it.

They just needed more time. More training.

The five of them started to limp back to the cave where the light from their torch had almost died out, when a bright light flooded the chamber. It came from behind them, and as they turned to look they saw an open door.

“That must be to the next level....” Adrien said softly.

Marinette looked at her Order, broken as they were, and made a decision. “Another time,” she said. “We’ve done enough for today.”

They still had to make it back and spread the word to the other players. A small smile fell on her face. They could give them this news, give them this hope.

* * *

“You did WHAT?” Dick’s voice cut across the room. Jason had returned to their base after dark, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He was tired from walking the entire trip and even more tired from the battle, so his pace on the return trip was a little lacking. But that didn’t mean Dick had to yell about it.

“I helped some people beat the first boss,” Jason shrugged. “I don’t see what the big fuckin’ deal is.” He put his pack down and grabbed some food from the counter.

Dick looked him over and, finding no major injuries, rubbed his hand over his mouth. “What part of ‘wait for recruits’ did you not understand?”

Ah yes, this again. He decided to tactfully dodge that shit. “I only meant to get a look at the boss. You know, do some reconnaissance and then report back? But a group was already there and fighting, and they needed help.”

“So you jumped in to help them?” Tim asked incredulously. “You? Mister Lone Wolf?”

“For fuck’s sake, they could have died,” Jason was getting annoyed now.

Dick gripped his shoulders. “So could you.” He glared as Jason pushed off the touch. “Look Jay, I know we don’t always get along, but I don’t want to... I can’t....” Dick hung his head. “Not again,” he said softly.

“Look,” Jason raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not looking to die anytime soon. Repeat performances were never really my thing,” he gave a crooked smile. “But I was fine. The monster couldn’t hold a candle against us.”

Dick didn’t look convinced. “Can you just... tell us the next time you go off on your own?”

Jason barked a laugh. “Not a chance.”

“You’ll give me gray hairs by the time I’m thirty...” Dick rubbed his temples.

“Then we’ll match,” Jason winked and ran a hand through his streak of white hair. Tim snickered and rolled his eyes. Bastard.

[dyketubbo]

How to Use an Axe as a Shield (and vice versa)

(or, a collection of tubbo poems/minifics, because I think about him a lot. please god reblog if you read/like any of these just liking doesnt do anything /lh. heres one to tide you over, and three more under the cut)

Heartless (homeless)

TWs: Death, Injury

•

If home is where the heart is, what are you supposed to do when both are turned into war zones? (Canon Compliant)

home's where the heart is (but both of yours are exploded, so where does that leave you?)

declarations of war are made with the burnt crisps of your house

(you were proud of that. you really were)

a statement of betrayal is first marked with a sword through your heart

(and you wonder how fucking unlucky you must be to be the first life lost)

you're shot twice with blinding lights (and they really were blinding, because you lost an eye because of it)

during the small period where you can't feel your heart beat you wonder if you lost that too

(you almost wish you did, because it hurts to pretend like you don't care while wearing an executioner's hood, but every time you've cared about something you lost it)

..

(and yet you lose even when you stop caring, and you wish you lost your heart, because somehow losing a heart seems better than losing a home all over again)

A President's Legacy

TWs: Cannibalism, Death, Underage Drinking

•

Quackity, Fundy, and Tubbo, and the things inherited from two men who stopped caring about them (they haven't quite gotten the hang of not caring about the two men back, but damn if they have a bad view on what it means to care about themselves now) (Canon Compliant w/ HCs such as Tubbo wearing a ram/Schlatt's skull for intimidation)

the opportunistic ex takes a bite of the dictator's heart, before eating it all (before then, he took the advice of a man who spiralled, and its no wonder the doctor isnt a real one, because someone really should've warned that cannibals get hurt by their habits too)

the abandoned prodigy takes the dictator's sword and calls it a family heirloom (the prodigy is disowned by the father he truly wanted, so who can blame him when he turns to the only people that want him, even when they're his enemies)

the gunpowdered mentee dons the dictator's skull, mirrors his ears and horns and tail and takes the berating and bottles and drinks (and drinks and drinks because maybe he can replace the tearstains in the dead husk of a man's old suit with beer stains and pretend that he's following in the footsteps of a heartless ram and intimidate everyone into not finding out that he's really mimicking the spiral of a brother that didn't want the heart he was given)

the ex destroys his "child" and makes a better country in its stead, promising himself he'll never be pushed to the side again (he breaks his own promises to not get attached but can't bring himself to stop smiling)

the prodigy resolves to better himself and makes a play pen for his son as he tells himself he's loved and wanted and no one can tell him he's not (he accepts friendship as a payment and laughs as he learns to have fun with his body again)

the mentee breaks from his roles and stores up power as a defense as he keeps his son safe and assures himself that he'll never let his loved ones get hurt again (he hasn't counted himself as one yet, but he twirls a flower around in his hands and believes that it'll all be okay)

(a ghost of a dictator cackles to himself as he flicks poker chips at the crying husk of a zombie whose heart hasn't learned how to beat again yet)

Runny Yolk (Bloody Folk)

TWs: Gore, Death, Rotting, Talk of Organs, Suicidal Ideation, Memory Loss, Manipulation, Overstimulation, this one is rough ok

•

Tubbo thinks red is starting to suit him. (Eggbo AU)

your guts are being replaced with vines

they twist and turn and there are leaves in your socket and your eye is turning red

crimson is flooding through your head, your mind, your soul and conscience and veins and heart and oh, you know why they're called blood vines now

they tell you it's apart of the process. they seem to wince a little and clench their fists a little harder

so you don't feel too bad when you vomit into the lava. rather easy to get overstimulated from being invaded by a parasite, really

it showed you dead families when you first touched it, and at first you didnt really know why

eventually though, you remember how happy ghostbur was

you suppose death isn't so bad, if that's how dead people end up

it would be nice for everyone to be happy

(it would be nice if you were happy. suddenly, this all feels rather peaceful and you're not really registering that you're vomiting too much because for some reason it's not hurting anymore)

it doesn't take too long for ponk to quietly go "i don't think that's apart of the process"

he repeats it louder again as you sway and you hear concerned shouts as your consciousness fades

you wake up to whispering in your head

"you can't leave yet, bring everyone with you. don't worry, i won't make it hurt"

you get up rather quickly, and think about how this is what painless and colorful feels like. you smile, and let yourself forget what that even meant to you in the first place

Ding! Breakfast Is Ready! (why do ghosts need to eat anyways?)

TWs: Suicide, Death, Memory Loss, Overstimulation, Panic Attack

•

Toast thinks about the (not so) fun fact that matyr sounds like murder if you have a funny enough accent. He tries not to think about what everyone else thinks of the very not fun fact that the murderer of Tubbo was himself (Tubbo uses the Dead Man's Switch AU, not too canon compliant i just think about toast a lot. this one turned more into a minific but i still like it so here)

it's a bit easier to get food when you can float, a fact that toast uses to his advantage rather often

he thought the name was cute really, and he giggled about how he was burnt to a crisp just like toast!

tommy shouted at him though, and ranboo's voice shaked as his words failed to really pick up

toast couldn't hear very well

that's what happens when you blow yourself up with a nuke, he guesses

he thinks his life was pretty nice, really! he's not sure why he wanted to blow it all up (not that he really judged the decision much, he knew it was probably for a good reason)

he helped found a country, got elected as president (somehow? he could tell there were gaps), met a pretty hybrid, got a cool compass!

he especially likes to think about how fun it was to make nukes, even if he doesn't remember why

and of course, his memory is filled with little bits of his married life with a son, and he could never forget how it felt to be a brother to tommy, or an uncle to fundy

tommy looks like he's about to break when toast mentions picking flowers with technoblade, so toast resorts to not talk about his memories around tommy at all

michael likes to listen to him though! toast teaches him sign language, and claps with glee the first time michael gets out a sentence

the clap makes him think of concrete for some reason, and for a second he remembers technoblade pointing a firework at him

his scars burned then. he doesn't clap anymore

the food falls down and makes a clang (turns out, getting lost in memories means losing his physical form) and toast is out of reality for a second and the toaster dings and suddenly there's so much noise that toast sinks down and panics even more when he realizes he needs oxygen to hyperventilate

eventually, it all quiets down (or at least, it's quiet enough that toast is unable to hear it)

for a bit, it's flooded back, and he remembers that he's not tommy's brother or ranboo's husband or fundy's uncle or michael's father or technoblade's friend or anyone at all and especially not tubbo himself

because tubbo's dead. and he killed himself. and now all they have left is a ghost of someone they'll never have again, because tubbo took out dream too.

tubbo wasn't one to cry. but toast isn't tubbo, so he sobs and hopes his tears burn enough for him to die too (tubbo had such a brilliant death suited for such a brilliant boy, so toast only felt it was deserved to die pathetically and drawn out, so he could never again convince himself he was amazing as he thought he was)

(he doesnt die, and being unable to remember what upset him in the first place is only frustrating him further, so he curls up and pushes his head into his knees and hopes that if ghosts can eat they can fall asleep too)

[nalgenewhore]

<3<3<3

masterlist - ao3 - day four - day six

<3<3<3

The stupid beads on her stupid headdress dangle over her eyes and Elide angrily bats them away, her other hand white-knuckled in the heavy, ruby-red skirts of her dress. 

She stalks through the circus grounds, anger and hate nearly sparking from her eyes. Because of their cover, Lorcan’s taken to bracing Elide’s ankle constantly, but her gratitude for it and her growing affection for the female cannot placate her now. 

It’s the third night in a row that Elide’s customers at the oracle’s tent have been driven off to see Lorcan’s performance, and Elide has reached her breaking point.

The female is doing it to annoy her, she just knows it. She will not crack and pretends to hate it, pretends to not know that Lorcan craves her attention. 

On the other side of the grounds they’ve claimed is Lorcan’s clearing. The crowd is too thick for Elide to push her way through, so she climbs onto a barrel for a vantage point. 

Lorcan’s hatchet and dagger are gleaming arcs of light as she fights the foolish man who thought he could best her. A line, near a mile long, snakes its way around. Elide doesn’t understand mortal men and their fascination with proving their power over women and females. She marvels at their confidence, when it seems as though Lorcan is hardly breaking a sweat and the bored expression on her harsh face clearly shows that this is nothing but play to her, not even challenging enough to be considered training. 

She whirls and spins, always getting the best of her opponent, who stumbles around after her, trying to get a single hit. 

It’s beautiful, the way Lorcan moves, each move effortless and deliberate. The way her hair shifts like rustling grasses on a flat, open plain, not once getting caught on her opponent’s rusty sword. 

Then, in a flurry of motion that has Elide’s brows lifting and heat rising to her cheeks, Lorcan’s contender is tripped and his back slams into the hard dirt, where wild grasses used to grow. The tip of Lorcan’s hatchet presses into his flabby neck and Elide stares, her eyes glassing over as she watches the vein in his neck pump rapidly with his racing pulse. 

Slowly, she wanders her eyes up the weapon and Lorcan’s arm, tracing the lines of toned muscle visible through the shirt that clings to her sweaty, glowing skin. 

“And the winner is Lorcan!” Nic announces, eagerly stepping forward to triumphantly lift Lorcan’s hand. Unlike before, his eyes don’t stray to the precarious neckline of Lorcan’s open shirt. The still-red slice beneath his left eye is a warning to others, of what will happen should one forget their place. 

The disgust on Lorcan’s face is unmasked and she snatches her hand back, baring her non-human teeth. Wisely, his face paling, Nic steps away, self-consciously lifting his hand to the cruel wound that still smarts. 

Good. 

Lorcan looks elsewhere, possibly to her next challenger, but her eyes slide to Elide. She reads the angered desire in them and smirks, her steps swaggering as she returns to her starting position. 

It’s almost as if she expects Elide to sit and simper like the rest of her adoring public. Elide’s upper lip curls with annoyance and she gets down from the barrel, her skirts dragging on the ground. She glares down at them and lifts them up, wanting to shred them to pieces. 

Instead of doing what she wishes, Elide leaves, her back straight and chin lifted in defiance. 

She returns to her tent, where no one awaits. Hardly anyone is by this end anyway, all drawn to the strongwoman’s show. Elide rips the sign down and aggressively shoves the heavy curtains aside as she stomps inside. 

The first second that she’s alone and hidden from the world, Elide yanks the headdress off and throws it away. She pushes her hair back from her sweaty forehead and sighs, slowly walking to the rickety card table erected in the middle of the tent. 

Elide takes a cloth from the table and walks to the corner, where there is a collection of cushions and pillows to recline against. She remains standing and picks up the pitcher of water. Elide dunks her cloth in it and uses the sodden material to wipe the thick layer of cosmetics from her face. Every evening, Molly and Ombriel insist on pasting it across Elide’s face. She hates how thick it feels on her skin. 

Face cleansed, Elide pulls the pins from her hair, letting the thick tresses, rich and dark like cocoa, fall around her shoulders. She scratches her scalp, easing the pain from her roots. Then, Elide sits, slowly lying down and looking at the candles that surround her. 

She tracks the wax drops falling down the sides, spilling over the cheap candle holders, as she waits for Molly to shout that the carnival has ended. Then, she’ll return to the too-small tent and wait for Lorcan. Neither have ever mentioned how Elide cannot fall asleep until Lorcan’s arrived.

After a few minutes, when Elide has still not heard Molly’s shout, someone shoulders through the tent flaps. She sits up, expecting Ombriel here for the money, but sees Lorcan, bare from the hips up, save for the tight chest wraps she dons every morning. Elide rolls her eyes and says drily, “You know that Molly will be begging you to stay.” 

Lorcan walks until she’s reached the back of the tent and picks up Elide’s water jug. She drinks deeply and accidentally sloshes some of the cool liquid down her chin. Transfixed, Elide watches a bead of water trail down the line of Lorcan’s throat, catching on her collarbone. 

Her cheeks heat again. 

“Nic cannot wait for us to go,” Lorcan counters, putting the jug down and standing above Elide with a hand on her hip. 

Elide rolls her eyes again and crosses her arms, jerking her chin towards the absence of a shirt. “Did you sell your shirt too, then?”

The grin that slices across the death-blessed Fae’s face can only be described as wicked. “Sure did. Got fifteen coppers from a farmer’s wife for it.” 

“That’s disgusting.” 

“What, the fact that it was a woman?” 

“No,” Elide says, narrowing her eyes, “the fact that someone would pay for your sweaty clothes.” 

For some reason, Lorcan takes Elide’s engagement in the conversation as an invitation and sits down, propping up cushions to lean against. She tucks her hands behind her head and shrugs, “Money is money.” 

Elide eyes her, “You don’t seem so…” 

“Irritated?” 

“Murderous.” 

Lorcan hums, “Besting thirty men and having fifteen of their wives offer a spot in their beds does that to a person.” 

Elide digs her nails into her upper arms hard enough to leave crescent marks. She can’t explain the feeling that shakes her body and makes her want to snarl in the face of those women. “Then why aren’t you with them.”

Lorcan surveys the candles, the carpets, the pillows and cushions. Her eyes don’t miss the tight grip of Elide’s hands and something like satisfaction flashes across her gaze. “I do not care for mortal women who like to use me to explore their desires. I am not a… plaything or an experiment.” She smoothly gets to her feet and picks up the cloth Elide discarded earlier. One side is smeared with a white paste of cosmetics, so she flips it and uses it to wipe the grime from her skin. “You know, I heard a great many men tonight speaking of the things they’d like to do to you. Why not have your fun with them?” 

The thought of any man, but especially the ones who leered at her this evening, touching her skin… their bodies on hers… Elide has to fight the shudder that runs through her and the urge to crawl out of her skin. 

She drops her hands into her lap and looks down at them, idly fingering a rip in the cheap fabric that chafes her smooth, creamy skin. “I do not want them.” 

Lorcan retakes her seat, but she’s closer to Elide now. Close enough that Elide can see the hints of smile lines on her cheeks. “Do you prefer women?” 

“No. I do not ‘prefer’ women.” Elide looks up, like recognising like. “I do not care for men. At all. Not in that way.” Hardly in any way.

“Neither do I,” Lorcan says, her voice almost… soft. 

A small smile twists Elide’s plush lips, “I knew that. You… do not hide it well, if that is what you’re trying to do.” 

Surprisingly, Lorcan laughs. It’s nothing more than a dry chuckle that hisses through her teeth, but it stirs something warm in Elide’s belly. “I suppose I do not. I no longer care to have the patience one needs to deal with them.” 

“Did you ever?” 

“No,” Lorcan laughs, again. 

Elide decides she likes it when Lorcan laughs, and she wants to hear the rasping sound for the rest of her days. Carefully, with fear of rejection, Elide moves closer. Lorcan is silent, her dark eyes tracking Elide with some sort of warmth. 

It’s- it’s too much. Elide looks down again, shifting her skirts. Her ankle is exposed, Lorcan’s magic snugly wrapped around it. She stares at it a moment, her fingers twitching. 

“Does… does it hurt?” The words sound unnatural, like Lorcan has never asked that. 

Elide looks up, “No. Not really. It’s… it’s just sore.” 

Lorcan frowns, glaring at her ankle. Around it, her power slithers, holding it tighter. “You told me the magic helped. Why does it hurt.” 

“You know,” Elide teases, “that’s supposed to be a question.” 

Lorcan glares at her, utterly unimpressed by her avoidance. 

Elide sighs and rolls her eyes, “The brace helps, but… the bones healed improperly. No matter what, it will always hurt a little bit. I hardly notice it anymore.” 

The fierceness eases from her face, but there’s a different anger that fills her gaze. Lorcan studies her ankle and touches it with a gentle finger. “It… hurts most of all here.” The slivers of cool, dry death move to apply more pressure. A slight twinge eases a bit of the stiffness. “And here.” 

She fixes everything she can, and Elide is… it’s far lighter. She smiles and looks up at Lorcan, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Lorcan says, silently looking at Elide. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Because. I want to kiss you.” 

A sly brow arches up, “Really? Is there a… reason you haven’t yet?” Elide tilts closer, “Are you frightened?” 

Lorcan snarls and slides her hand to the side of Elide’s neck, stroking her thumb over the corner of Elide’s jaw. She’s almost… gentle when she kisses Elide. 

The smaller woman grins and grazes Lorcan’s bottom lip with her teeth. She licks into Lorcan’s mouth, slightly out of practice. In her teenage years, she had her fun and filth with the maid girls, or the laundress’ daughter who delivered her sheets. 

At Morath… Manon. But she’s never truly wanted a person as much as Lorcan. 

The demi-Fae cups the back of her head and twists her onto her back, leaning between her legs. She controls it, kisses Elide slow and deep. 

Elide sighs softly and gives in, arching her back into the female above her. Lorcan’s fingertips drag down her spine and her hand grabs Elide’s backside.

Lorcan slides her lips down Elide’s jaw and her canines nearly breaking the skin beneath it. Elide’s gasp is caught in her throat and then Lorcan stops. She lifts her head. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nic.” 

A whip of Lorcan’s magic snaps out and strikes through the heavy tent curtains. There’s a scuffing and the scent of piss and… fear, so thick that Elide nearly gags on it. 

Then, a heavy body thumps on the ground. Lorcan slowly rises to her feet, still touching her hand to Elide’s. “He’s dead.”

Elide stands and places her hand on Lorcan’s jaw, turning her face back, “Then it’s done.” 

Lorcan wraps her arms around Elide’s waist and dips her dramatically, catching her lips again. She’s not sure she’ll stop craving the taste and feel of it. 

After a long, lazy moment, Elide tilts her chin away. “We have our own tent. A private tent.” 

Those dark, depthless eyes glitter, “Is that so.” 

“Yes,” she grins. “And, just so I know, is this… a one night tryst for you?” 

“I’m yours for however long you wish.” 

Elide traces her fingertip over the dip in Lorcan’s collarbones, “If I wanted you for longer than one night?” 

“Yes, even then.” 

“Months?” 

“Even then.” 

“Years?” 

“Even then.”

Elide kisses Lorcan once more, “And if I wished for forever?” 

Lorcan thinks for a moment, her lashes brushing against Elide’s high, rosy cheeks. “Especially then.”

<3<3<3

an: i. am. in luv with them. im obsessed. 

@ladyverena​​​ @ladywitchling​​​ @mythicaitt​​​ @sassyhobbits​​​ @darklesmylove​​​ @julemmaes​​​ @letstakethedawn @cicada-bones​​​ @highladyofthegentry​​​ @darlinminds​​​ @nahthanks​​​ @sjmships​​​ @eyllweambassador​​​ @flamingveritas​​​ @adelzd-bookblr​​​ @somewhatdynamite @woollycat22​​​ @firestarsandseneschals​​​ @the-regal-warrior​

[doodle-zombie]

Lamia Bonding Drama

Finished RP with @theriverpersonshadow that turned into an absolute monster once we both sat down and started it. I think we finished this in under a week? The final word count is...25,546 (after some editing by me).

The only warnings that may apply are for language. If anyone has any triggers please let me know.

It's so long that it's under the cut.

Caring Coils was having one of its community events this week. While the shop was always open to the public (within business hours), the weather had been nice lately and they’d managed to rent out some outdoor space in a local park. The Lamia were absolutely loving it, in their own ways: a hoard of miniature pygmies were chasing after an RC car “driven” by a bitty Papython and actually driven by a Honeybo, the trees were draped with various Lamia but especially Chains, one of the larger rocks in the area had become a community nap pile for Cornies, and no small number of Kraits (and Oozy) were enjoying the pond as a few Mambas terrorized/were terrorized by the local goose population, thankfully far from the rest.

Nikolai was a mixture of happy and absolutely harried, trying to keep track of everyone who’d come. Some Lamia had opted to stay inside, like Hux, and some were too young (Piper was allowed to come, barely), but the park was absolutely teeming with various Lamia. It made his soul swell to see them so happy, but also, he probably needed to deal with the goose situation on top of general PR.

Keith was hanging out near the edge of the park, draped in a tree and soaking up some sun rays. Trousle was hanging with him - pun intended - and looking at the humans as they passed into the park, chirping out hellos with his little speaker. Piper, meanwhile, had claimed a bird nest as “his” and was enthusiastically showing it off.

“Oh! Look! That human has one like you!” Trousle said, tugging lightly at Keith.

Keith looked over towards Val, giving a wave. “Yo, nice to meet ya. Name’s Keith.”

“Look! I’mma mom!” Piper chirped loudly as his little lungs(?) could manage. This is clearly a child in a bird nest.

“Hello human!!!”

*

Valerie adored her boys and did whatever she could to make them happy but this was, admittedly, more for her than it was for any of her boys. She had joined tons of different groups geared towards Lamia, including a site that allowed her to see when a center was having any special events, and she stalked those sites when she had a few minutes to herself. It was through her obsessive need to stay on top of all things Lamia related that she heard about a center that was having a community day.

And it was open to the public.

Marmalade watched, so in tune that he picked up on her excitement before any of the other boys, as she prepared for a trip. It wasn't too far but it was enough distance that she was careful to pack a cooler full of snacks and blankets to create a nest in the back of the van. Because it was a given that Currant would be tagging along and Sangria would be the guardian of the property while she was away. His Mamba brother took his duties incredibly serious and he had a prankster Corny to watch over and a recovering Pygmy to take care of. Val left instructions on what to do if she wasn't back within a few days, leaving behind a phone she'd picked up just for them.

None of them liked to be away from her with no means of making sure she was alright, Marmalade didn't blame them.

Despite being the largest in the house, Marmalade had made no secret of his desire to go with Valerie and Currant on their trip. He coiled on the back seat, soaking in the light and enjoying the breeze, while Currant claimed the front seat with a nest carefully crafted. Val filled the trip to this community day with belting along to whatever song played, nudging Currant until he joined in and beaming at Marmalade in the mirror until he went along with their shenanigans.

Stars, he adored his bondmate.

Their arrival was met with little fanfare. Currant wanted to stay in the van, unwilling to risk getting lost or injured by whatever was going on at the park, and the windows were left cracked for his comfort. Val gave his skull a pet and eagerly left the car behind, Marmalade tagging along at her side. It was clear that all the Lamia were enjoying their time outside and he snickered at the sight of a cluster of Mamba trying to assert their dominance over a flock of geese.

Sangria would have been absolutely delighted to show the smaller Mamba how to go about proving their superiority.

Marmalade found his gaze drawn to his fellow Chains, draped across tree branches like, particularly strange vines. Val must have felt his curiosity because her gaze was also drawn towards the trees and she gave a delighted squeak. Her soul pulsed back pure joy at him.

"'sup," he drawled, acknowledging Keith's greeting. "'m marmalade."

"Ohmystars," Val breathed, clutching her chest. "You are just the cutest little thing."

Which Lamia was she talking to? Well, all of them if Marmalade had to guess.

"y'all don' get out often, do ya?"

*

"Not really! It's big out here!" Trousle said. If he was being honest with himself, it was kind of overwhelming. Thankfully, Keith didn't seem to mind hanging around with him, and it was nice having a familiar face as he tried to get used to it. Mostly he worried about how his speaker would work. It was small enough to be portable... for a normal-sized person, but it'd be a pain trying to carry it around at his size. But there was plenty to do just here! People to talk to, things to climb and play around in, it was all so much and it was great!

"They say 'm too lil. But I'm not! Not a hatchling! Nuh-uh!" Piper said. He grinned down at this human and looked at "his" eggs. He couldn't actually keep these, so... He slithers down to Valerie's level, tail wound around a tree branch while he makes grabby hands her way. The little one looks like he's got some scales stuck to his skull and arms, but a closer look reveals that they seem to be growing there (though might be in a shedding phase right now too, based on the flakiness). He chirped for her, little tongue darting out to catch the taste of the air.

Keith just chuckled at the little one. "Nope. What can I say, I've got my dice inside." He yawned and readjusted himself on the branch, muscles rippling as he found another position. "But it's pretty nice out here honestly. At least right now. It gets dang hot sometimes." Which might explain why there didn't seem to be many Firerings. While they probably would've enjoyed the usual summer heat, it'd be uncomfortable or even possibly deadly to those around them. "Heh, where y’all from anyways? I don't know you." The other Chain's scent was unfamiliar to him, and they were kind of the place to get a well-cared-forlamia in the state. Marmalade might've been a little roughed up from hunting in the woods, but he didn't really have the look of a rescue, and the linger scents were new too.

*

"nah," Marmalade teased, sockets narrowing as he smirked. "yer jus' small."

And adorable. Marmalade was so accustomed to being around smaller Lamia that he felt an instant need to protect any smaller Lamia around him. Lapis was the smallest at home and Marmalade often kept him safe from predatory birds and other larger creatures that might make a snack of a Lamia. Keith keeping Trousle close was something Marmalade approved of, it was what made Chains so reliable as companions.

"You certainly don't look like a hatchling," Valerie complimented, putting her hands out so he could slither onto her. Honestly, the spattering of scales upon his bones was beautiful. Val found the scales of Lamia to be incredibly pretty. If they didn't turn to dust when they came off, she would be tempted to collect them. "But your scales are really pretty! Currant would love you, he'd think you were a little gem."

Marmalade found Keith to be a little strange, for a Chain, but he figured that they couldn't go out into the woods from their center. It was the part he loved about his territory, there were so many huge trees he could climb and bask on. Plus, the rock that Sangria often showed off on when Valerie was taking a break from work. In fact, all the Lamia around here were pretty immaculate. He didn't see any signs of scars or any hints of lacking care.

"val drove us here," Marmalade shrugged. "we're a coupla states away, middle a nowhere. my home center was in a big city."

*

Trousle let out a breathy attempt at a "Nyeh", huffing. "That's not my fault! I was born small! I'm a good size for a Papython bitty too!" Though sometimes he did feel a little out of place with most of the DnD group being full-sized, but being small just meant he had more things to look at and slither into! More to explore, and a lot of puzzles just getting around!

Piper enthusiastically wound his way on there, letting out little chittering purrs as he accepted the compliments. "Thank you! You've got pretty too!" He was idly playing with the fabric of her clothing, but his eyes were on her hair. A stray strand caught his eyes and he zoomed up, pouncing for it and squeaking as he overshot, grabbing onto the back of Val's clothes as he fell. "I'm 'kay!" He said, little claws helping him climb up to her neck. With a little purr, he settled in against the warmth. "Smells nice."

Keith was gently stroking Trousle while watching Marmalade, curious about this other Chain. "Really? Huh... you're from far out, ain't ya? I haven't gotten around much myself. What can I say, I'm a bit lazy." That was a lie, partially. Part of him wouldn't mind getting out and about more often, see more of the outside, more of the world. He was old enough that he was pretty sure Nikolai could get some stuff sorted for him if he asked, but leaving would mean not living with Hux anymore, almost certainly. Hux didn't exactly want a human, and he seemed perpetually peeved at Alex...

"How'd you two meet anyways? I mean, like... How do you know?" He'd assumed he'd known, but Alex never said anything, so maybe he was just getting desperate. Could it work that way? Nikolai had assured him it couldn't, but he was too nervous to bring it up. What if she was avoiding it for a reason? "Ya seem pretty happy."

"Keith hasn't found his human yet," Trousle said.

Keith looked to the side, unwilling to dump his anxieties on the little guy. He wasn't leaving. Period. No reason to worry him.

*

"jus' kiddin', kid," Marmalade laughed. It had been a few months since he'd last been around a Papython, his home center had a high turnover rate for them, and those that were old enough to go tended to get adopted faster than he could learn about them. There was nothing wrong with Trousle, if you asked Marmalade, and he would have liked to talk more with the little guy. But Marmalade was a stranger to these Lamia and he didn't want to cause any fights by climbing into a tree with the Lamia here. "yer decent size. bigger than lapis at home."

Heaven. This must have been heaven. Valerie was very used to having a Lamia slithering on her, Lapis did it all the time, so she wasn't phased in the slightest by the little Pygmy darting around. She laughed as he zoomed, looking over her shoulder and putting a hand under where he was dangling. Affection filled her at his little compliments, her fingers gentle when she rubbed his little skull. "Thank you, sweetie."

Marmalade glanced over to Valerie, blinking as she cuddled with the small Pygmy. He could feel the waves of affection that were rolling off her soul in gentle waves. It wouldn't have surprised him if every Chain around could feel how much she adored the little guy. Well, he should have known she wouldn't be able to resist.

"you'd get along well with Currant then," Marmalade said, studying Keith carefully. Huh, a Chain that just... didn't know how to tell who his human was? At least Marmalade was used to offering advice, usually to his housemates. "she came in for a coral bitty, originally. an i jus' knew she was mine. soon as i saw her. she knew i was hers right after i bonded with her. val's more in touch with her soul now."

He looked at Val, the happy smile on her face as she pet the small Pygmy. "she's the best thing that happened to me. A real gentle soul, patient too. she even adopted the mamba from my brother clutch."

*

Trousle grinned, typing away. "Yes! And thank you! You seem good-sized yourself! I guess I'm just not used to being places where things aren't all bitty-sized. Well, other than the DnD table! And the humans. Humans tend to be human-sizedfor lamia, though children of course are smaller." All was forgiven, just like that. "It's good to meet you! Have I introduced myself? I'm Trousle! That little one is Piper, and this is Keith."

"You're welcome!" Piper chirped. He grabbed at one of her fingers, holding it to him to nuzzle against it. A few of his loose scales flaked off which was met with little sighs of relief - those had been itchy! "Like you! You like games? One time I got to be a dragon! I was the boss! Rawr!" He tries to roar, but it's squeaky and he devolves into giggles.

"Oh geez, that was sure an interesting session," Keith said, laughing at the memories. It was an absolute mess and it was amazing. "We let him join a DnD game once, he was my little Co-Dm."

"Mm hmm! I was the Boss!"

"He was also the dragon they fought... And the trickster god that our cleric summoned. Who immediately attacked his own follower."

"Was a mouse!"

"That it was." Alex had been playing a Mousefolk cleric and used a mouse toy as a token, so really that was almost set up that way, and it was hysterical.

Keith turned back to Marmalade, "I run a DnD game afterhours for some of my friends. Alex is a new girl, or was I guess? She's been visiting a while, seems pretty nice. Brought us Peanut butter and chocolate no-bake cookies, and wasn't gonna say no to that!"

"They were delicious!" Trousle said. "Liam tried to say he brought them, but he'd just stolen them! Nyeh! He's so silly!"

"He got caught pretty fast. But yeah," Keith said. "She, uh... seems nice. Like, real nice. But I don't think she thinks I'm anything special. Other than a good DM of course, and hey, what else can a nerd ask for?" He was hesitant to outright say it.

Sure, most of his friends were technically special needs in one way or another, but those were just surface level, right? Having a faulty soul-bond meant something was deeply wrong with him, not to mention he hadn't even tried until then.

Keith was idly clawing at the bark, muscles tensing and untensing as he slowly swung there, filling moments where he wasn't talking by humming the same few bars of a song.

If he was going to tell someone, maybe it ought to be them? Marmalade didn't ask for that though, and that's a lot to put on someone. But who else could get it and not have it get back to Hux? Nikolai had enough to deal with...

Nah, he was being silly. Might as well just enjoy the sunshine, if he could. "I'd offer to show you around, but I don't know the place much better. Plus it looks like part of the park is under attack by geese."

In the distance, Nikolai was trying to get some of the younger Mambas to leave the fucking geese alone while Liam tried to scare the geese into leaving the mamba alone. Oozy was making puns about this "fowl situation" while watching and being generally unhelpful.

*

Well, Trousle certainly made it obvious why Papythons were so popular. His temperament was excellent and things just seemed to roll right off his scales. It was a shame that Marmalade had never really connected with any Papythons when he'd been at the center still because they seemed like he would have gotten along great with them. "nyeh heh, thanks kid."

"Oh stars," Val squeaked, delighted beyond measure. She also took immediate note of his relief when several scales flaked away, revealing pristine blue beneath, and she gave soft scratches to areas that looked like they were ready to come away. "Oh, sweetheart, I love games! I bet you were the biggest, best dragon around!"

She feigned a shocked gasp at his attempt at a roar, grinning down at the little guy. Her heart was gone, he'd stolen it. All of these Lamia were adorable. As much of her attention as Piper had stolen, Val still didn't ignore Keith and Trousle. They were good with Piper, harnessing the chaotic energy of a young Pygmy.

"Every Lamia is special," Val refuted, cuddling Piper closer to her neck. "Maybe you should talk to Alex?"

Marmalade nodded along, giving Keith a curious look. He didn't know what DnD was but he knew about the soul and the bonds that Chains forged with their humans. Keith seemed awfully curious and cautious when it came to those bonds.

"you think you got the wrong human?" was Marmalade's astute observation.

"Oh!" Val perked, wide eyes turning to Keith. "You wanna stay with your friends, don't you? But you want a human too, maybe?"

Inevitably, her gaze was drawn towards the honking of geese. Not a sight that was common at home but nothing she had never seen before, either. It was certainly lively over at that side of the park!

*

Trousle nodded, “No problem!” He paused and typed more, tongue flicking as he did. “What’s it like where you guys are from? Do they have Papython there too?”

Piper was purring, rubbing against her hand both out of affection and in eagerness to shed some of his scales. He had stars in his eyes as he looked up to her. “Yeah! I love games too! I’m a great dragon! Mweheheh!” I dun hurt you though is ‘kay.” He gave her a little pat of reassurance. “Can only hurt the tokens. But I win good!” Piper made happy purrs and chitters, enjoying the warmth and affection. This was so exciting!!! “I special! You too!”

Keith couldn’t stay buried in his thoughts with that happening. A grin split his face. “Heh, hope you were looking to adopt.”

A twinge of jealousy rose up in Trousle’s soul, bitter and venomous, but he took a deep breath and swallowed it with a smile. He’d find someone one day. It wasn’t fair to hold it against Piper. Besides, he wanted to live closer to his friends anyway. “You can talk to Nikolai when he’s done with the geese if you’re thinking of taking him home! He practically owns the place. He’s the King.”

“Don’t let the fangs fool you. He’s basically a mom,” Keith said. “Gotta love him… Heh. You might get along, or else I need to get better at hiding things. Am I that obvious?”

Trousle looked up at him. “Alex is yours then?” He hadn’t known but wasn’t surprised either.

“I don’t know,” Keith said honestly, shrugging. “Thought I felt something, still do, but she hasn’t said anything, so I ain’t gonna force it. Besides, I’d rather keep hanging with y’all.”

“I appreciate it, but don’t stay just for my sake! You’ve been here longer than me! If you think you’d be happy with her…” Then he’d say goodbye.

“Ain’t my call anyways lil dude, but thanks,” Keith said. He turned back to the others. “I might just live here long as they’ll have the gang and me. Made peace with it a good while ago.”

*

This time it was Valerie who answered Trousle, happy to soothe the Papython that there was someone out there who would love him and take him home. "Oh, I see Papythons everywhere when I go into town! Everyone loves a Papython. You guys are super helpful."

She was quickly distracted by Piper once again, enthralled by how adorable he was. The point of coming here hadn't been to adopt but she wasn't going to rule it out, not when faced with a Lamia this adorable. Valerie had always assumed Pygmy were too energetic for her but Piper was just perfect. The right amount of energetic and sweet, with a little bit of snuggle tossed in. "A precious dragon," she beamed, "Oh, Admiral and Sangria would love you!"

Valerie laughed at Keith, keeping Piper close to her. "I'm not opposed! I have plenty of space at home... and toys. And I already have the perfect little bandana that would look just adorable on him."

"course ya do," Marmalade huffed, amused. "ya got a lil' bit o' everythin' at home."

"That I do!" Val agreed, smiling at Keith and Trousle. "I even brought a couple things to give out, if you want something Trousle. I think you'd look really cool in this little red scarf I bought. None of the Papythons at the other center were the right size for it."

"don' let val think she'd get along with a king," was the mumbled warning from Marmalade, his gaze mischievous. "she debated on a king or a mamba once. still don' know if she won' bring home a king some day."

Her answering laugh was completely unapologetic.

"Gotta say, Keith, if you feel like she's yours then she probably is. There's a lot of reasons a human wouldn't react. Maybe she doesn't have the space for you and all your friends but she doesn't wanna separate you?"

"don' count yourself stuck, keith. even if ya don' live with her she's still yours. an you're hers."

*

Trousle beams, puffing out his little chest as much as he can and showing off his scales. He's a bit too busy posing to type right now, but his grin is practically splitting his face. He nods enthusiastically at the idea of a little scarf. Wouldn’t he just look great?! Even greater than now, he wasn’t sure it was even possible!

Keith smiles down at him. "Yer pretty cool, y'know? Can't believe you haven't been scooped up yet. But hey, this way I get to keep ya. Wouldn't be the same without such a cool guy at the gaming table."

Trousle's face was bright orange. He attempted to hide it behind his hands, flustered, but he kept moving his hands to peek out.

Piper purred, too enthralled by Val to pay much attention to Keith and Trousle. "Yeah! 'm the best dragon. They love! And I love! Where they?" He looked over at Marmalade, squinting as he tried to figure out which one he'd be. "Sangria?"

Keith chuckled, "That's Marmalade." With so much happening, he didn't blame Piper for missing a few details.

"No. Sangria."

"That's not how that works...“ Trousle said.

"Sangria," Piper insisted, crossing his arms. Guess Marmalade's been renamed now, sorry dude. "Gonna play toys with Sangria! Mweheheheh! Toys toys toys! Yes yes yes!" He tightened around her neck - not nearly enough to hurt - in enthusiastic cuddles.

"He really likes you!" Trousle said. Feeling a bit bolder, he started winding his way down towards her and Marmalade too. Keith helped by stretching his arm out towards her for him. Dude wants cuddles too it seems like.

Keith's soul ached at the thought of Trousle leaving too, but Val seemed nice, and it sounded like he wouldn't be low on company. It was a bit early to call though. "I hope ya'll're right. I mean, she keeps coming back, so hey, that's a good sign! Just don't wanna come on too strong, y'know?" He turned to look over at the goose situation. Some park administrators had managed to catch and contain most of them, but Liam had the tell-tale sign of a successful hunt around his fangs. Good for him. Nikolai had redirected the younger Mambas towards something less destructive: showing off for humans with posing and play-fights. "If ya wanna keep the kiddo, you can talk to Nikolai or Maia, the old lady. She owns the place, but Nikolai's been keeping it running the last year or two. She's getting too old fer it."

*

Oh. Oh no. Trousle was adorable too and Val felt awful knowing she would gladly take him home too, away from his friends and so far from what he'd known that he might never be able to visit when they had their sessions. But Keith brought up a good point... why hadn't Trousle been snatched up yet? He was a sweet Papython, perfectly sized for apartment living but also the right size that he could help out around if he wanted.

Her attention was taken by Piper once again, cooing at just how sweet he was. Her poor heart couldn't handle all that adorableness. If she combined him with Admiral... Val would probably collapse from the combined cute of two Pygmy, even if they were different sizes. Her face actually hurt from how much she was smiling.

"I only brought Marmalade and Currant with me, Piper," she gently told him, grinning at Marmalade with waggling brows. "Sangria is my big Mamba, he's protecting the territory and making sure Admiral doesn't get lonely. But Sangria is so awesome I'm sure Marmalade doesn't mind."

Marmalade narrowed his eyes at her but it lacked any real heat. Sangria was a Mamba that defied his species, a far more tolerant creature that was essentially the den mother of all Lamia Valerie had at home. It wouldn't surprise any of them if Sangria was cuddled up, beyond exhausted dealing with Admiral and Lapis, when they got home. Val was good for them, he was somewhat surprised she didn't have a whole hoard of Mamba roaming around.

"I really like him too," Valerie told Trousle, offering a hand so he could join Piper on her. Papython cuddles were the best. And she'd only ever cuddled a few full-size ones! As much as she would have loved to take him home too, Valerie didn't feel like Trousle was destined to stay with her. Someone out there would adopt them all together, she could feel it. But she would never deny a Lamia some cuddles. "I should go get Currant, though. Don't want my grumpy boy to laze away in the car. It's about time to exercise, anyway."

"she probably feels somethin'," Marmalade shrugged. "i bonded with val as soon as i saw her. didn' wait a second."

"It's true," she laughed. "I walked in for a grumpy Coral and wham! Soulbonded to a Chain within minutes. I can kinda feel all my boys, now."

Valerie trailed off, not knowing how to ask Keith if he wanted to go to the car with her so she could get Currant and the things she could give to other Lamia. Marmalade saved her from having to ask, aware of her on a level deeper than anything she'd thought to have.

"wanna come with us to the car, keith? val wants to grab some stuff and trousle an piper are safest if she holds 'em. you can meet currant."

*

Piper nodded, "Mamba can be mean, but can be nice! Some go hiss, but others like hugs. Like Cobalt!" Cobalt was hatched around the same time. The little mamba could be protective sometimes, especially when some of the meaner mamba or corals teased him about his weird bone-scales. (The fact that Piper was quick to give affection and fawn over him miiiight've helped). "Can I meat Cur-Currant... Curry! Curry!"

Trousle slithered up Val's arm and draped himself across her in one big cuddle, clicking softly in a muted purr.

Keith smiled down at Val, she had such a way with the kiddos. If she ever needed a job, she could probably work here, provided she didn't try to adopt the entire store. And knowing that Alex might know something, well... Maybe he should have a chat with her. Lost in thought, he stretched himself out wordlessly in answer, winding down and placing himself next to Marmalade, ready to go meet Currant. Hopefully he'd be nice to Trousle, or they'd have a problem.

*

"Sangria is nice," Val assured Piper, knowing it was true. He could bluster and yell insults as much as he wanted but he was the first to investigate any noise, the first to take the others outside without her asking, and she had woke up on a few occasions to already thawing food for her boys. Piper would be adored at her house, she had no doubt. "We're going to meet Currant."

Marmalade was shamelessly snickering over Piper's nickname for the Coral, slithering along as she walked towards the van. It was a dirty thing, big enough to transport her collection of Lamia and the large amount of groceries she got monthly. Some curious Lamia had slithered close, likely to scent the new smells she'd brought around, and Currant could be seen in the front seat. His face was barely visible over the door, just eyes and the dome of his skull. Well, what wasn't covered by the blanket he'd been snuggled in. His deep red eye lights enlarged when he spotted Val.

Before they even got to the van, Currant was bolting out and winding around her legs. Val laughed, petting Trousle and Piper while Currant made himself at home around her ankles and knees. He shamelessly slithered up her legs and wrapped around her torso, clinging in the way he was used to. The fact she had other Lamia didn't bother him in the slightest. His purrs were deep and happy, gloved phalanges kneading in her shirt and sneakily petting Trousle and Piper.

"And this is Currant," she told Keith, completely wrapped in Lamia but loving it. Her current situation was nothing out of the ordinary, after all. "He's still a little anxious but he's such a sweet little gem!"

"spoiled, ya mean."

"jealous?" Currant grinned, both golden fangs on full display. "sup. 'm currant."

*

Safely riding on a human, Trousle looked around, trying to take in all he could of the big, wide world. And it was definitely big! It was hard to imagine that even this much existed! It was all so exciting! His tongue was flicking in and out, trying to catch every taste he could. Instinctively, he hissed when Currant moved so fast, rearing back, but let out little huffs as he laughed it off. His "voice" came from Keith's pocket as he said, "You startled me!"

Keith similarly had tensed up, not expecting the other to dart out like that, but relaxed just as quickly seeing Val react so well. "Aaaaw. Heh, he really likes ya. Man, he's a world different than Hux. Good to meet ya dude, I'm Keith."

"I'm Trousle! Er, I'm the Papython." Trousle said, leaning his head up to let Currant scratch some of his favorite spots.

"Oooooh! Curry! Curry's a Coral!" Piper gasped. He was partly hiding behind Val's neck, hoping that this Coral at least wouldn't make fun of him. Not that every single Coral did, but it was mostly corals. Still, he was getting pets, so maybe this one was a nicer one? His eyes closed as he let out happy little chirps, occasionally play-nipping at Currant's fingers.

Keith was just internally cooing. "Ya'll too dang cute. How dare. Geez..."

One of the local Cornies was trying to slither into Val's car, seeing a nice blanket and a warm, sunny nap spot, and a random Honeybo was trying to see if he could sneak stickers onto Currant's clothes.

*

Confined as she was beneath coils, Val couldn't do anything about the other Lamia clustering around. She made a careful mental note about the Corny but didn't attempt to prevent him from sleeping in the blanket pile, Lapis did just that. Before she left she would do a sweep of the van, to make sure she didn't have any tagalongs. Currant was well adjusted, careful work done to make sure he knew how to articulate and that he could always hide if it became too much for him. He was a far cry from the grumpy boy she'd brought home.

"sorry," Currant muttered, butting his nose against Trousle's back. "oh man, val! lapis woulda loved this."

"He would!" she chirped. "All the bitty Papython from his brother clutch got adopted out so I couldn't get one. He would love to have a Papy that would pester him awake, I just know it."

"maybe we can bring 'im next time," Marmalade shrugged. "make a day o' it. let everyone meet everyone."

"it'd be chaos," Currant deadpanned. "imagine sangria bein' around all these mamba? his tail is a lot nicer."

Well, Valerie didn't want to say that but she hadn't seen another Mamba with the same level of iridescence that Sangria had. Currant was drawn to Piper, the little Pygmy hidden from sight until a nip finally registered. Val mentally counted down, smirking with the knowledge that Piper looked like a true prize. Bright blue, even where his scales needed to shed, and so unique that Currant's eye lights swelled huge. He loved pretty, unique things.

"yer scales are pretty," he wheezed, shimmying closer to Piper. His instincts told him Piper was still young and he needed to shed those itchy, dull scales. So Currant just... gave a little lick. Val likened it to a mother cat bathing her young and it was adorable.

"Aren't they just the prettiest!" Val agreed. "All the others must be so jealous of such a handsome boy like Piper!"

*

Keith was helping that one Honeybo sneak stickers onto Currant. He was gonna be covered in glittery smiley faces and hearts by the time the conversation was over at this rate. Naturally, Keith regrets nothing about this... Okay, maybe he has one regret, but that's that they're stickering Currant like this and not Hux. It'd be hysterical seeing him turn red as he realized what had happened.

Trousle gives him a few little scratches in appreciation. "I might consider it! I'm just not sure about living so far away. Though I'd love to have a person! And it seems like you have quite the troupe!" If it weren't for the distance, he'd be on this faster than Liam was on a bowl of sour candies. "I'd love to meet him!" It was always nice meeting new friends! Or seeing old friends again, in some cases!

Keith chuckled, "I feel that. I wish I could vouch for Liam, but he can get a bit showy around other Mamba. I mean, and in general, but it's worse around his own. Though given that he was the only one to actually beat a goose, he might have a point." Sometimes Mamba and Kings were rented out for pest control... and occasionally Chains, when the pests in question were snakes.

Piper turned yet another gorgeous shade of blue in the face, partly covering his cheekbones as he squealed and chirped, not really sure what to do with all the sheer happy stuffed into his little body. Kid purred like a kitten as some of the scales peeled off, revealing the vibrant, fresh hues underneath. Shedding was always the worst, but also such a relief to get out of his too-small skin.

Keith mentally relaxed. Currant seemed like a pretty cool dude so far. "Dang you're too freaking sweet. Geez. Ya sure you didn't adopt a Papython?"

*

Currant was aware that he was being covered in stickers, this wasn't the first time he'd been on the recieving end of some shenanigans, but he had long since grown used to things like this. Val had taken great care in making sure he was capable of handling whatever could be thrown at him. She wouldn't let anyone tell her that he was too dangerous to go anywhere, his behavior would guarantee he made anyone that called him a menace eat their words. Grooming the young Pygmy was much more his speed, he tended to do the same with Lapis if he caught him in shed.

"Oh, Trousle, I know there's a human out there for all of you," Valerie assured him. She felt a little sad that she couldn't take every Lamia home... but maybe she could volunteer here, sometimes. "I'll bring Lapis next time. Even if I don't take you home you could always message him and be friends that way."

"ooooooh," Marmalade drawled, feeling the need to talk up his brother. "jus' a goose?"

"Marmalade, hush! They don't have a forest around here, not like Liam could hunt foxes like you and Sangria do. But I bet he'd catch one!" She didn't actually know if that was the case because she didn't know which Mamba was Liam but if he was anything like Sangria he would have a high prey drive. She had many hunted stuffed animals that were displayed around her home. "Piper... are you alright with Currant holding you? I'm going to grab some things."

Marmalade huffed, amused at Keith's comments towards Currant. "nah, he's a gremlin. val jus' hates how people talk shit 'bout currant when we go out so she helped him get better adjusted."

Said gremlin was carefully holding Piper, grooming the Pygmy with loud rumbles in his ribcage. Piper had Coral approval. Val opened the back of the van, grabbing a couple of bags that had some gifts she'd brought along. The whole reason she'd come to the park was to give some things to Lamia that didn't have homes. Marmalade took some of the bags while Val plucked a little red scarf out just for Trousle. It was made of a soft material and the shade of red was bright but not eye burning.

"You can have this, Trousle," Val announced, looping it loosely around him. "And you can help me hand out the other stuff! Maybe I have something for each of your friends."

*

Piper nodded, "Mm hmm! Like Curry! Is real nice." He was purring back, mostly letting Currant do his thing and thoroughly enjoying the attention, only squirming to give him better access to some of the scales that needed to come off. "Best Coral!"

Keith also felt the need to defend his own brother's honor, standing up and huffing, "I mean, if he hunted a dog, I think he would've gotten in trouble. People love those things! Also, have ya ever fought a goose? Those things will..." Shit there are children present. "They've got more teeth than we do. Some of which are on their freaking tongues. I have questions for whoever thought up geese, 'cause they're nightmare birds. Dude's pretty dang cool if ya ask me."

"Thank you, I'd love to meet him and see you again! But I'm not sure that anyone would want, well... Us. We're kind of weird, honestly. I mean, I'm mute for starters, and, well... But maybe there's a human that lives here, at least who could take me! Then I could visit a lot, probably! Or I guess I could live with Nikolai, but I think he wants to focus more on Maia right now." Trousle said. His head darted up as he caught a familiar scent. "Oh! Alex is here! Hi!"

Keith's soul skipped a beat as he looked over and saw her. "Howdy. Heh, good to see ya."

"Look! I just got a scarf!" Trousle wound the scarf around himself, arcing himself up to show himself off. The scarf fluttered in the breeze; he had stars in his eyes.

"Oh my gosh! That's so cute!" Alex squealed.

"Right? Heh, this is Val. She's from out of town."

"Oh! Good to meet you! I'm Alex. I'm from in town! Or at least from the suburbs."

Keith got a little closer to Alex, not enough to crowd her, but enough to feel close. "Wasn't sure if ya'd make it honestly."

"I've got Fridays off dude. 'Course I came!"

*

"heh, i like ya too kid," Currant mumbled, taking Piper's directions to heart and moving to a new patch of dull scales. Piper wasn't the first Pygmy that Currant had been around but he was the youngest and he needed to be protected and cared for. He was so invested in his task that he ignored Keith and Marmalade's posturing.

"we've hunted geese before," Marmalade snorted, puffing his chest out. "val don' care what we eat out in the woods. they're bears an stuff out there too."

Not that Sangria or Marmalade had hunted full grown bears but if they had snatched a cub or two from a mother before they ran her off. Well...

"Anyone who judges you for what makes you unique can get punched in the kidney," Val grumbled, momentarily sour over just the thought of anyone thinking ill of Trousle and his friends. "You'll get adopted, I know it. Sweet guy like you? Pfft, you'll find the best human out there."

Valerie was kind of nervous around another person but Alex didn't seem like a very mean person and she had similar taste in what looked adorable on Trousle. Anyone that could enjoy these Lamia as much as Val did wasn't capable of being a bad person. So she gave a little wave, petting Currant's head to soothe her own nerves.

"I'm Valerie," she greeted, tugging on her stretched lobes. "You can call me Val, though. Everyone else does. I was just about to hand out some presents to the Lamia here."

"we're from a few states away," Marmalade supplied. "'m marmalade, the coral is currant.... an it looks like we'll be adopting piper today."

"As soon as I hand out the gifts I'll look for Nikolai."

*

Piper absolutely beamed up at him, making the task of grooming him slightly harder as he insisted on trying to hug and give little nuzzles and licks to Currant's face. He was trilling in joy, already enamored with this big Coral who had decided he was a cute lil guy. Maybe he was going to get adopted! This was so exciting!

"Have ya ever wrestled a burglar? 'Cause I know Liam has. He ain't supposed to kill, so had to hold back on the venom and everything. Dude had a gun." Or, well, a taser, but Liam didn't find that out until after the police had already taken the guy into custody.

Trousle blushes, signing a quick thank you at her and sinking into the warmth.

"Really? That sounds terrifying," Alex said.

"Eh, you know how Liam is. He's a cool dude," Keith said. "Got him before the rest of us even realized we were in danger, he's just that cool."

"Heck yeah," Alex said. She looked at Piper being groomed by Currant and grinned, "Aaaw, they're really getting along, huh? Guess I won't be casting Divine Intervention anymore."

Keith laughed at the memory, "I don't think it ever actually helped."

"It was cute though!" Alex said. "But I'm glad he's getting someone. Little guy seems pretty happy! Trousle too. You thinking of adopting him?" There was a bit of an edge in her voice. She didn't want to admit that maaaaybe she'd been considering the little guy...

Keith swooped in, "Nah. He'd rather stay local."

Relief washed through Alex alongside guilt at being relieved, "Gotcha. Can't say I blame ya. It's nice being near friends, isn't it?"

Trousle nodded. "Maybe we can all get adopted together?"

"I'm sure someone would try!" Alex said. She was keeping a bit of a distance from Currant, which Keith noticed...

"This is Currant. Dude's a sweetheart to lamia and humans alike." He knew that she wasn't oblivious to Hux's opinions, even if she wanted to hang around the rest of them enough to deal with it.

Alex nodded, "Nice. Good to meet ya then!"

*

Currant finally seemed to twig to the fact that there was another person around, turning his large eye lights onto Alex for several moments while Piper nuzzled him. His teeth parted and he could smell her nerves, not an unusual occurence whenever someone happened to be around him. It wasn't even Currant's fault. Coral Lamia were known for their tempers and nobody would look at him and think he was different than his species. He made no move to attack, content to keep hold of Piper like Val wanted him to, but he wasn't instantly friendly either.

He just... stared. Gauging her.

"dude," Marmalade droned, looking incredibly done with the posturing already. "there's a reason Sangria is in charge of watching the house."

Which wasn't a lie. Val didn't often get trespassers on her proprty. Not ones that she was aware of, anyway. But there would always be people up to no good deep in the woods, where they thought nobody would find out what they wanted to do. Sangria and Marmalade had chased off their fair share of would-be burglars and wannabe hermits.

"Yeah, I'm gonna grab this little guy and take him home," Val booped Piper as she said it, enamored with his scales and his squeaks. "I would love to take Trousle, he's a sweetheart don't get me wrong, but I just feel that he's not for me. Ya know? I did wanna bring my Corny, Lapis, to meet him sometime! Maybe Admiral and Sangria too."

"'lo," Currant finally muttered.

"He really is a sweetheart, Alex," Valerie insisted, yanking her phone from her pocket and quickly scanning for pictures. She had plenty of snapshots of Currant and her other boys in various stages of absolute cuteness. Currant sleeping on Sangria's glittering scales, the Coral's blushing face when he got to eat his favorite snack, and the one memorable image she had of him dancing with her. "See? Corals are so sweet. Cute grumpy faces and all!"

"not cute," Currant grumbled.

"Cutest," Val sang, smooching his skull.

*

Keith realized he was going overboard a little and chuckled, “Guess ya got a point. Sorry, just think he’s pretty cool, y’know? Maybe ya’d like to meet him.” His soul twisted in sympathy for Currant. Poor dude… “Corals can be really sweet in general honestly, if ya can get through a layer or two of posturing. Currant seems better about that though.”

Alex grinned at the photos, bouncing a little in place at the cuteness. “Aaaaaw! That’s precious, oh my gosh. My heeeeeart!” She looked over at him, “Mind if I pet you? Sorry. Just not always good with people sometimes…”

Keith gave her a lazy hug from behind her, “Eh, ain’t for everyone.” He’d been around her enough to know that she at least couldn’t get along with Hux. She didn’t mean to, but she tended to rub Hux the wrong way. Though Hux sometimes seemed to be looking for reasons to snap at her. Still, what was he supposed to do? Kick out his soul-bond, or kick out his best friend?

“Yeah, but I just feel bad…”

“Don’t. Hux just ain’t great with humans. Currant is.”

*

Before Marmalade could comment on how it would be cool to meet another Mamba, Val piped up with an affirmative. "We'd love to meet Liam! He sounds super cool."

Currant puffed up at what he took as praise, knowing he was arguably the best Coral around. He still had his days where he tended to want his space but they were few and far between now. The people that wouldn't give him a chance just because he was a Coral were missing out. Alex had calmed down once she'd seen his general cuteness so he offered his head for a pet, making sure to keep Piper safely tucked against his chest.

"Don't feel bad about not getting along with everyone," Valerie tried to soothe. She didn't know Alex very well but she didn't want any awkwardness between their mismatch group. "I worked a lot with Currant. Maybe you won't ever be best friends with Hux but you can learn when he needs his space! It might not seem like a big step but it's something to keep in mind."

Marmalade nodded along, having plenty of experience with all kinds of Corals. Some were sweet and just couldn't communicate what they wanted but there were others that earned their bad reputation. Unfortunately, that bad reputation was more common than the good because they were such a naturally emotionally constipated Lamia.

"here we go..." Marmalade muttered.

"I have some stuff Hux might like," Val confessed. "If he's the type to enjoy a treasure hoard or blankets and stuff. I have a lot of Lamia stuff that none of my boys wanted so it should get put to good use!"

*

Keith grinned, “Oh yeah, he’s cool.” Being a lazy bastard who didn’t want to stop this conversation, he just texted Nikolai to send Liam this way.

Alex stroked Currant’s head, smiling. “You’re really good with these guys, aren’t you? I don’t think I have quite the same knack for it, but I like visiting and stuff! Nikolai lets me in the nursery sometimes and it’s absolutely precious! Baby Lamia are adorable!” She was bouncing on her feet again as she scratched underneath Currant’s chin. Piper was also getting in on the affection, giving Currant little pats and purring.

“He does have a little hoard, I bet he’d enjoy it! He can be kinda prickly though. Don’t take it personally,” Keith said. “He’s just like that.”

A Mamba of about average size came over and cleared his throat to announce his presence, splaying out to show off his scales as he set his head on his hands all sassy-like. “I heard I was called~?” He was keeping his good side towards Val and Currant, not that the hole in his skull was particularly noticeable, he was wearing his fitted mold today. It was a bit hard to make out the tacky substance holding it in place through the layer of bone-colored makeup, but he couldn’t hide that one of his eyes were dark.

Keith slithered over to cover Liam’s bad side out of protective instinct and habit. He was fairly certain there was no sneaking up on the dude anyways - he’d gotten crazy good at feeling vibrations in the ground - but it made them both feel a little better. “This is Liam.”

“Good to meet you~”

*

"I did a lot of research before I decided to adopt," Val admitted, plucking nervously at her sleeves. Currant was basking in the attention he was getting, more tolerant than blatantly loving having someone else patting him. Alex was gentle with her pets so he didn't attempt to pull away. The words coming out of Alex's mouth finally registered and she wished she could have stars in her eyes when she heard about baby Lamia. Her voice was an excited whisper. "Baby Lamia?!"

Marmalade and Currant both rolled their eyes at her glee, knowing that she should never be allowed to see the babies or they would never get her to leave. Valerie already adored bitty sized Lamia but if you added in babies... she would be a goner.

"we got some geodes," Marmalade told Keith. "coupla things that any coral would love to have in their hoard. currant don' collect 'em as much since his hoard got too big to fit 'em all in his nest."

A new arrival pulled Valerie's attention away from talk of babies and she brightened immediately. It might have been biased but she felt like Sangria's scales were a little glossier than Liam's, not that she would tell him that. She didn't react at all to the site of one darkened socket, used to Admiral's darkened socket looking in her direction. Marmalade was careful about how he slithered, not knowing how Liam might react to movement he couldn't see.

"You're a very handsome Mamba, Liam," Val complimented, the words nearly second nature after dealing with Mamba for so long. "The way you hunted was really impressive!"

*

Alex kept scratching, watching her hands instead of looking to Val as she said, “They’re SO CUTE! I’d offer to show you, but Nikolai might try to kill both of us… Keith took me there to meet him and I thought he’d bite my head off, but he apologized afterwards! He’s really protective of them though, like, murderously protective.”

Keith grinned, “Daaaang. He’s gonna love that! And if he’s pissy about it, I’ll gladly take them instead…” Subtle dude. Subtle.

Liam took good care of himself, but he couldn’t stand up to Sangria in size or shine. That said, he would absolutely try to fight Sangria anyways if given the chance.

Liam stood up, hands on his hips and chest puffed out, moving his tail to make his scales glimmer. “Glad to see someone can recognize a hunter around here.” There was still a bit of blood on his teeth where he’d bitten the goose and hadn’t completely managed (or wanted) to lick it away. “Do I smell another mamba on you? You’ve got good taste, but I bet I could take him.”

Keith sighed, “Liam, don’t…”

“I’m just saying!” Liam huffed.

“It’d a sight to see,” Alex said neutrally.

“How big is he anyways? Four foot?” Oh Liam noooooooo… He’s huge sweetheart.

“I maybe should’ve warned ya that he can be competitive with other mambas,” Keith said.

“It’s not my fault they’re all so spoiled.”

“You literally have plush pillows and a heated blanket in your enclosure,” Alex said.

“And I hunted them myself!” Liam said, arms crossed and grinning. “I can take care of myself just fine, unlike those little pipsqueaks. Losing to a goose, hah!”

Keith was realizing he should’ve let Liam cool down more first. He’d just proved superiority over his breed and wasn’t gonna shut up for a while, was he?

*

"Oh, I don't want to make Nikolai angry! I'd ask first, of course." She might not have had any experience with Kings but she knew that anyone who was charged with protecting babies would have their instincts dialed up to max. Add on the fact that some Mamba would gladly eat the babies... she didn't blame Nikolai for getting angry that Alex had been brought around the younger Lamia without him approving it beforehand. Piper was close enough to a baby for her, for now, and that was all she needed if she wanted to be able to leave. "I'd never leave if I saw them now."

"if he don' take 'em he's got awful taste in treasure," Currant grumbled, giving Keith a grumpy look. Yeah, he was onto you buddy.

Now Liam had touched on a weakness of Valerie's. She loved to talk about her boys and Sangria was among the prettiest Lamia she had ever seen. Sure, he had knicks and scars from his tousles in the woods but she still adored how he shined in the light. When Liam mentioned smelling another Mamba on her, well, she lit up. Marmalade chuckled, knowing she was almost as bad as he was for bragging about Sangria. Nevermind the fact that Liam was declaring he could fight a Mamba larger than himself. It would be funny to see them posture at each other.

"Oh, don't worry! Sangria, that's my Mamba, is pretty good around other Lamia so I wouldn't worry." She giggled at the guess at Sangria's size, finding the isea of a Mamba that small to be hilarious. Liam was shorter than Val was tall! "Oh no, Sangria is seven feet long. Or there about!"

"maybe a few inches longer," Marmalade tacked on.

"Maybe," was Valerie's agreement. "Sangria protects the house and the property. I live on a couple of acres of forested land and it would really suck if I had wild animals stalking me when I went outside!"

She may or may not have been teasing Liam, just a little, to see how riled she could get him. Just enough he might show off some more!

*

“Oh definitely,” Alex said. “He probably wouldn’t say yes until he knows you better though.”

“Not gonna lie, that first meeting was me being dumb. Shoulda told him I was bringing her, but still took a few months,” Keith said.

“Oh yeeeeeeah! Nick went HISSSSS!” Piper said. “I was there! Mm hmm!”

“Were you one of the ones curled on him?” Alex asked.

“Mm hmm! Was hiding. Am a sneaky!” Piper said, hands on his hips.

“Ya sure are kiddo,” Liam said, giving the world’s gentlest fistbump to the kid. He moved around a little, getting a look at the car and taking in some of the scents, curious about this new place, aaaaand… “Are these what you were talking about? I might keep them for myself honestly.” Liam had 100% actually stolen the geodes while you were watching him, somehow. He’s the real sneak.

“Liam no,” Keith said, trying to stifle a laugh. “I called them first.”

“Finders keepers~” He held the rocks to his chest, sticking his tongue out at poor Keith. “I bet that Sangria can’t manage that. Maybe he’s bigger, but I could slither circles around him! He wouldn’t even know what hit him! Size isn’t everything, after all.”

Keith couldn’t help himself, “Then why is Nikolai the only one who can tell ya what to do and you listen.”

Even from here, it was plain to see that Nikolai was on the larger end of the spectrum for Kings, a good foot or two larger than even Sangria.

“His bite is worse than his bark, when he chooses. I’m not suicidal,” Liam said. “He’s worse than anything that could possibly be in your woods! Just let me come over one day and I’ll make the whole forest bow to me!”

“Huh, I thought he was playing a Sorcerer, not a Druid,” Alex said.

“… no fireballs irl,” Keith said, secretly a little terrified by sudden mental picture of Liam with fire magic… or a flamethrower.

“Not yet at least!” Liam said, almost certainly unable to actually follow through with that threat. “I just need to trace myself back to a dragon…”

*

"That's fine, I'm probably gonna come back a few more times!" Considering she was looking to take Piper home, she wouldn't deprive him of coming back to visit the place he'd called home for the start of his life. She may have hated interacting with people in large number but being surrounded by Lamia was leagues better than that. It helped that these guys were all hilarious. Valerie had only passing knowledge of DnD so she kept that to herself, lest they assume she was going to be able to come and join their games. Sure, that would have been fun but...she lived too far away and worked too much for it to be consistent.

Currant was slightly wary when Liam got close to Piper, edging back just a hair, but the little Pygmy didn't seem anxious so he kept his hissing to himself. He did end up scooting backwards a little so his tail could coil around Valerie's legs once again. Unlike his first meeting with Sangria, Currant wasn't mesmerized by the sight of Liam's scales.

"Are you sure you want the geodes?" Val asked, biting her cheek to keep from grinning. She wasn't surprised that Liam had managed to grab the geodes, those had been with Marmalade and her Chain was always weak for the wiles of a Mamba. It was a good thing she had kept the Mamba specific treats. "I mean...I was going to give you a bag of candy."

"warheads," Marmalade tittered, knowing her usual bribe when she wanted to convince Sangria to do something. "she woulda got toxic waste but sangria thinks the package is ugly."

"Sorry, Liam, I think Piper is the only dragon here." Val outright laughed, petting Piper along the length of his spine. "Actually confirmed dragon. The best dragon."

All this talk of Kings was making her want one, deep in her mind, but she knew that Sangria wasn't ready for another large and possibly aggressive Lamia.

"But you guys could come over to see the forest, if you want. So long as you had permission to leave."

*

"Bring your Corny next time! He was... Azul?" Trousle said, drawing a blank on the name. He remembered it had to do with blue at least? "I'd love to meet him!"

"And I'll gladly settle it on who'd win," Liam said. "It'll be me, of course, but he can certainly try!" He was internally considering the trade... The geodes were gorgeous, of course, but sour candies. His mouth was already salivating, and catching the scent on his tongue didn't help in the slightest. "I think that'd be a fair trade..." Liam said, keeping his eye trained on the delicious candies while he handed back the geodes. The second they were in his hands, he bolted away a few feet, intent on keeping his prize. Immediately he ripped the bag open, sticking a candy in his black-coated mouth and crunching down on it. He took more time with the next candy, letting it dissolve to savor it, but he kept the pack on his good side, just in case any of the smaller upstarts got any funny ideas...

Piper chirped happily, "Yeah! Yeah yeah! I'm the best dragon! RAAAWR!!!" He pretended to breathe fire, wiggling lightly in place.

"Wouldn't mind getting out a little more. Real trees are way better than fake ones," Keith said.

"I'll decimate it," Liam purred. "I'll ask about it. It'd be nice to get to stretch my tail. Rabbits and geese are nice and all, but I've always wanted to go after a wolf. Or maybe a buck!" They wouldn't just let him loose on the countryside to roam free, or he'd try catching one in the state (plus there were laws and legal issues about it), but if he was temporarily under the jurisdiction of another....

*

"Lapis?" Valerie reminded. It was a point in his favor that Trousle even remmebered that her boys were usually named after colors. Obscure colors were something she took great delight in making into names. "I'll bring him! I would have brought him along this time but he'd have eaten the snacks I brought for the Cornies here."

Although it was looking like Trousle and all his friends were going to be getting everything she'd brought! It was nice to have her presents appreciated. Particularly when Liam made the trade for the candies and she was once more in possession of the geodes. She could see a few Mamba with their tongues flicking, likely already aware of the treats, but Liam seemed intent on keeping them all to himself. Sangria was similar at first, hoarding his sour prize away from anyone else, but now that he was the only one in the house that ate sour candy he was less aggressive about it.

Currant cooed at Piper, nuzzling him. Marmalade made a dramatic attempt at ducking the pretend fire, a hand over his soul and widened eyes. "whoa, kid. watch the fire."

"an then there's the baskin' rock," Currant whispered, giving the coveted rock its due by his hushed tone. "'s right outside val's work window, gets light all the time."

"sangria loves that rock."

"I certainly have a lot of trees," she told Keith. "Caves too, decorated for whenever the boys need some space and wanna sleep outside. And no neighbors so...you could absolutely hunt whatever you wanted, Liam."

Valerie didn't know the particular laws about hunting local wildlife but she'd made sure that her local rangers knew she had Lamia that hunted in her woods. Of course, she also kept plenty of contacts so she could purchase live food if they didn't go hunting.

*

"Yes, him! I'll get it sometime!" Trousle said. "Understandable too! Leave some for Oozy! I think he's in the lake right now."

That Corny who had previously been napping stirred upon hearing that there were snacks for cornies. "Mine?"

Liam was absolutely keeping these all to himself, just as he always did. One of the younger lamia - not quite at their adult height yet - loudly called him out on it... So he sat on him, cackling and putting another candy in his mouth while the smaller one screeched... But there were multiple mamba in one place. There was no stopping the swarm. They'd smelled candies and saw them in the hands of That Jerk, so it was a matter of seconds before they put aside their differences and all decided to tackle and constrict Liam at once. A dozen or so bony hands all scrabbled for the remaining candies as Liam screeched about dishonor, cheating, and betrayal.

Keith was laughing his ass off and being of absolutely no help whatsoever. Alex was trying to hide it, but she was absolutely laughing too.

Piper saw the action happening and tried to wiggle over, not wanting to be left out of this game.

*

"I'll tell him all about you," Valerie promised. She gave a delighted little sound, bringing out the little melonpan she normally reserved for Lapis (and herself, she loved the ones with custard inside). They were a little big for bitty sized Corny Lamia but Lapis had never seemed to care about that and she doubted her little stowaway would. "Here you go, a token of confection that's Corny approved."

Marmalade, Currant, and Valerie all turned to the Mamba shenanigans and none of them attempted to hide their amusement. Looks like the pack had decided to overthrow their ruler when it came to the unfair division of the coveted sour candies. She had expected something like this but Sangria had only been convinced to part with one bag of his favorite, all the other sour things she had were less sour. It didn't make them less sought after among Mamba, or so she'd found, so she set the bag down for perusal.

"careful, kid," Currant said but he didn't hold Piper back for long. A Pygmy that wasn't allowed to zoom could become quite the sassy thing. Despite letting Piper go, Currant stayed close by in case he needed to snatch him away from a bad situation.

"guess we should summon the hoards to get their gifts," Marmalade said. "before we get swarmed like liam."

*

The stowaway very much didn't care! He was a snake, and he'd stuff himself as much as he could! Sometimes. When wanting sweets overcame being lazy at least. Caught up in the treat, he took a minute to notice the pun, but he broke into a grin and started laughing into the treat as he did, falling into a happy, laughing lump. He couldn't even top that! "Like you!"

Liam whined as his rightful treats were stolen from him. He managed to shake some of the mamba off, but it was hard when they were ganging up to beat him! "Not fair!" He could take two, maybe three, but there were at least six!

Piper zoomed over to help tame Liam, making little roars and holding onto his arm, play nipping his clothes. He was being no help whatsoever, but was sure having fun doing it!

Alex nodded, "Oh yeah. I don't wanna get caught in the snake swarm. Or at least not in this way."

*

Honestly, Valerie felt a flood of warmth in her chest at just how happy the Corny was. He made her miss Lapis, knowing her little prankster would have been punning away at her. Lapis was the whole reason she'd gotten so deep into pun hell in the first place. She couldn't resist petting his little head, expression going soft and fond. "Thanks, bud. I like you too."

Currant huffed, sparing a warning glance towards Val so she didn't get any funny ideas. Lapis was already a massive handful when he got into the mood to dish out chaos, they didn't need him to have a partner in crime. Speaking of pranks... Lapis would likely have a lot of chaos to rain upon the inhabitants of this adoption center.

Marmalade took the initiative to wrap the geodes into his coils so they wouldn't be snatched up. The bags had other shiny things that some of the Lamia might enjoy hoarding but the geodes were going to be offered to Hux first. And if Hux didn't want any then Keith would get to take what he wanted, provided Liam didn't get them first. Once they were safely tucked away in his grip, he nodded at Valerie.

"Hey!" she called, hands cupped around her mouth so she could gain the attention of every Lamia around. "I got some presents! Candy, blankets, and anything you might want."

Then...then she braced for the swarm. And oh, what a swarm it was.

*

HOPE YOU WERE PREPARED FOR THE SWARM.

Alex stands a bit away, having fun watching but a little overwhelmed at even the idea of being in the middle of all that... No thanks. Keith cuddles her by the sidelines, content to watch as well. Piper is chirping back at all the lamia, going absolutely nuts trying to catch absolutely everyone. Pygmy or not, he'll definitely need a nap when all this is over. Liam nurses his wounded pride off to the side.

The sheer numbers of the swarm draws over Nikolai, though he hangs back and lets the rest take their picks. He's very well cared for, after all. He just waits until the herd thins to introduce himself. "Good to meet you. I'm Nikolai, vice manager of the company." His eyes dart over to all the happy lamia playing with toys, blankets, snacks, and his soul just absolutely melts. "You've made them quite happy. Thank you. It's good to meet you." He gives a little bow, bringing himself slightly lower than Val's level. Dude's absolutely huge, about twelve and a half foot total, and standing a little over six feet tall.

He'd probably be more intimidating if there weren't a handful of bitty kraits peeking out from his pockets, a mini-corny napping around his neck, a young chain wound around one of his arms, and a full grown honeybo deciding to be a cheeky bastard and flop down right over his tail.

"This would be the local mom-friend," Keith said. "I will say outright, you can't take him home with you. He lives with Maia already."

"That I do. She's having a lovely time really, it's good to see her getting to be out and about like this, and she's having fun seeing everyone else outside too." He spoke warmly of her, body relaxed as he turned to wave at her. She was sitting on a bench with a corny curled up next to her like a scaly house cat.

*

Valerie was completely prepared for the pure chaos. Toys getting snatched up and tossed around, blankets disappearing and reappearing in suspicious lumps, and the steady stream of content sounds that meant the candy and junk food snacks had been well received. She didn't back away when the swarm hit, used to being in the mix of large crowds. Currant was darting after Piper, keeping the Pygmy in his sights, but he lacked the energy to keep up that pace for very long. Marmalade tolerated the small hoard that had decided he made a good perch to get higher.

Nikolai is slightly intimidating by his sheer size but his tone and expression are both incredibly relaxed. It's easy to forget that he could very easily decide to take a bite out of her or drive her off. As much as she would have loved to fawn over him, Valerie kept her interaction with Nikolai friendly and semi profressional. Keith had already mentioned that Nikolai helped Maia so it had been easy to guess that he must already have a home.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm Valerie." She can't resist leaning forward to quietly greet the Kraits that she saw peering from Nikolai's pockets. He certainly looked like a mom, with all sorts clamoring over his bulk. "It's my loss but I don't think Sangria is ready for me to bring another large boy home."

Now she found her nerves kicking in, nails lightly scratching at her left wrist until Marmalade grabbed her hand. Their bond pulsed gently with confidence, his soul telling her that she could do this.

"Keith was telling me that I should talk to you about adopting Piper," she finally rushed out. "Sorry. How could I say no to such an adorable guy?"

*

The kraits waved back. Mostly. One got shy and hid his face, he seemed younger than the rest, not used to strangers at all yet.

Nikolai spotted the little one and smiled, “I see you’ve adopted before.” His tongue flicked out, but he couldn’t even hope to pick out what all Val had after that swarm. It was a jumbled mess of tastes that felt so very much like home. “And they look to be getting along well too. It’s always for the best when people bring their Lamia and/or pets, that way we can be sure they’ll get along, but I see we’ll have no issues.”

Piper was trying to keep awake, wanting to be part of the fun, but all the excitement was starting to tire him out. He was wrapped loosely around Currant and yawned, doing that thing kittens do when they try to fight sleep. His head bobbed up and down, eyes fighting to stay open, but sleep was intent to steal him.

Nikolai couldn’t help but coo over it, “Aaaaw. Nyeheheh. I knew Piper wouldn’t be staying too long, but he looks pretty happy, and you seem to know what you’re doing.” He wasn’t willing to completely streamline the process, but honestly? She seemed perfectly ideal, provided… “I will say that he might need a bit of extra care for his scale condition. The scales on his bones might shed more frequently or out of synch with the rest, that’s nothing to be concerned about. Likewise, it’s not unheard of for scale patches to flake off entirely, though the area where it was might be softer and more prone to infection or injury for a day or two. But it’s equally likely he might grow more scales over his bones. The areas where bone and scales meet do get irritated sometimes, especially since dirt likes to get stuck there. Clean it carefully with a q-tip and apply ointment and he’ll be fine.” It was his first priority, after all, yo make sure he was cared for. “We have a spare tube of the cream we’ve been using on him. If you’ll come inside, you can have it for free, my treat.”

He turned to look at the honey-bo half-assedly pretending to be asleep (he had one eye peeked open, looking right at him, and was grinning), rolled his eyes, and gently removed him.

Piper had utterly lost the fight against sleep, completely conked out while snuggled with Currant.

Alex took a picture. How could she not?

*

As adorable as the Kraits were, Val was careful not to overwhelm them with her attention. She didn't want to risk paying one so much attention they got sad if she didn't take them home with her. Besides, Nikolai was talking and it felt more important to hang onto what he was saying.

"Yeah, almost all my boys are adopted from a center but I do have a rescue." Nikolai had a way about him that made her more willing to talk about Admiral than she had before. "My full-size Pygmy, Admiral, was given to me by some kid at a park. His family was using him as a free babysitter and one of the kids cracked his eye open, so his left socket is empty. He's come a long way since then."

Piper's crash came at a perfect time. Currant was also getting tired but far older and capable of resisting passing out after some play. He pet Piper instead, hoping to ease him into sleep easier. Poor guy was likely going to deal with similar crashes for a while once he met Sangria, the Mamba had the most energy out of any Lamia Currant have ever met.

"I figured he would have some special needs," Valerie admitted. She didn't know what the condition was but she had noticed Piper had scales on his bones that seemed itchy but it didn't seem he was in a full shed. The grooming necessary wasn't anything she didn't already do for Sangria, though it would likely take far less time for Piper. "I already have a brush to get dirt from scales, my Mamba insists on being groomed at least twice a week so I have tons of supplies I can use for his scales. I can always message you if I have more questions about how to care for his scales."

Since all the gifts had been handed out she put the bags into the van and closed it up again, grabbing Currant so he could once more settle around her. He was grateful for the reprieve from having to slither after them when he was already tired. If Liam thought Mamba were spoiled he was in for the true spoiled boy of Val's.

Holding onto Currant had the added benefit of allowing her to keep an eye on Piper. "Lead the way."

*

“How many do you have, if I may ask?” Nikolai said. He asked partly out of curiosity, and partly to make sure she wasn’t getting into more than she could handle.

He hissed under his breath heating about Admiral, “Some people… ugh! I won’t say it’s the worst possible idea, I’m technically a service Lamia myself, but I’m certified, an adult, and, well… I’m well aware that I’m bigger than most people. But even then, there’s a difference between that and being a babysitter!” He did his best to keep his anger in check, well aware that he could be terrifying and not wanting to scare Val or anyone currently present. He sighed, trying to let some tension go, “I’m not mad at you of course. I’m mad at those imbeciles! But it sounds like he’s in better hands now. Do you think he’ll be okay having a little one around after that though? I know Piper isn’t exactly a human child, but…” He had to ask these things, of course.

Nikolai let’s her into the shop. It’s mostly empty, but there’s still a person at the cash register. A few Lamia run around the front, bitty and full-sized alike, but the vast majority are outside. A few chirp hellos at Val, some hide, everyone’s got their own thing.

Nikolai motions to let her further in, past a door saying “Full sized area” and then to a supplies closet. He pulls out a tube of cream and a little pamphlet. “Here. I’d had this prepared for whoever might adopt Piper. It gives a basic overview, some good links, and diagrams.” It’s got the name of the condition on it (whatever that is… names are hard) and is smattered with images of Lamia with scales growing over bones. One extreme case, a Krait apparently, had scales covering his full body.

Meanwhile, that Corny was absolutely still napping in the car. He’d moved away from the blankets, finding a shady, safely enclosed spot to sleep off his food-coma: the glove box.

*

"I have five boys, currently," she admitted, knowing it might seem like a lot to the casual asker. "But I work from home so I have plenty of time for all of them and a few more."

She was of a similar mind when it came to what a full-sized should do. One as large as Nikolai could be a service Lamia because he was of a size where he wasn't likely to be taken advantage of my humans. But a Pygmy like Admiral was nowhere near large enough to babysit human children, regardless of how much energy he possessed. She could also understand his concerns of whether or not Admiral would be able to handle having a young Lamia in the house but this was one thing she had tested. "Admiral is fine with all Lamia, even young ones. It's just human children he panics around. Piper already has experience with Liam so seeing Admiral with one blank socket shouldn't startle him."

Currant looked around the center, more at ease since he knew that Valerie wouldn't drop him off here, but wasn't overly concerned with anyone who greeted Val. He rather liked that his human was so coveted by other Lamia but had chosen him instead.

"You take such good care of everyone here," she told Nikolai. "It's no wonder everyone respects you... I'm happy to be good enough for Piper, thank you."

Since she has her arms full, Marmalade takes the tube and pamphlet from Nikolai and puts them carefully into one of his jacket pockets. Valerie will obsess over them later.

"anythin' piper might wanna have when we go?" her Chain asked Nikolai. "he's young so a new place might be scary."

*

Nikolai looked worried at first, but nodded when he heard her situation. “He’ll have company then, that’s good.”

“They live in the woods too, so the bigger, stronger ones have room to hunt,” Keith said.

Nikolai smiled, “Great to hear then. That is one of the downsides of cities, it’s hard to let all of these guys outside as much as they ought to.”

It seemed like she had everything in order then. Admiral would be fine, she had a good track record, Piper seemed to love her and her Lamia already, and even asking for something for him. “I think I know. Give me a minute, I’ve got to go get it.” He slithered off towards the nursery, looking around for one particular toy…

And in the meantime, Hux had caught scent of a human and unfamiliar Lamia. “Heh… Surprised to see you in here. Figured you’d be outside. Like, most of us who ain’t out there are fine staying here y’know.”

Keith bit back a sigh, putting on a lazy smile instead, “And that’d be Hux.”

“Yo,” Hux said. His eyes wandered to Trousle, who was still casually draped on Val, and his soul dropped. He picked up Trousle and stuck Trousle on his own neck instead. “There. Better.”

“I was fine over there too.” Trousle said.

“Yeah, well… Yer with me now.”

*

"Yeah, I have a lot of space." She rushed to assure Nikolai. "Honestly, I think Sangria wants me to have a gaggle of Lamia sometimes. He acts like he hates when I bring someone new around but he's the biggest mom in my house. Piper won't ever be in danger with all my boys, that's a promise."

"she drove kinda far to get us from our center," Marmalade revealed with a shrug. "plenty of stuff to hunt but we got safe havens set up all over the woods. pretty sure at least a couple of wild lamia have taken refuge in our caves too."

The whole situation was exciting. Piper was adorable and he would encourage Currant into being more active without bribery, since it seemed he'd taken an intense liking to the little Pygmy. Currant's coils tightened around Valerie's waist, his sockets narrowing at the arrival of another fucking Coral. He wasn't threatened, Val didn't seem to notice Hux was there yet, but he did make his displeasure known with a single warning hiss.

"Oh!" Val startled, not expecting Trousle to be suddenly taken off her. She smiled at Hux, figuring he was treating her to the grumpiness she'd heard he was known for. "No, I'm not adopting anyone from inside! I was just getting some stuff for Piper, I'll be taking him home."

Currant narrowed his eyes even further, almost closing his sockets, and carefully situated Piper within his jacket so Hux couldn't grab him too. Marmalade rolled his eye lights towards Hux, keeping an eye on the situation in case he neeeded to diffuse any tension.

"Do you like Trousle's new scarf?" Val asked, turning to give Hux more attention while she adjusted her grip on Currant. "I had gifts for everyone. Liam almost took yours."

*

Nikolai couldn’t help grinning when he heard that. It sounded like a perfect environment with enough hunting Lamia to keep little and lazy ones safe.

Hux just laughed at Currant’s hiss. “I promise, I ain’t here to steal your bitch. You can keep her.” He was hesitant to take his eyes off the bunch, not sure how to feel about strange Lamia in his home, so he compromised and brought Trousle up to look at him. “Looks good on ya, Trus. Compliments your scales.”

Trousle beamed, hiking himself up to show off, throwing the scarf behind him like he was in a beauty commercial and it was long, flowing hair.

“Nice.” His pride wanted to not accept gifts… but his desire to hoard things won out. “That sounds like Liam alright. He calls himself a hunter, but pretty sure he’s just a fucking thief. Slick fucking bastard, thinking he’s the shit.” He lowered to a mumble as a dusting of red started to glow from his cheeks, “Just ‘cause he’s strong and could kill me with those fangs - thinks he’s so great. I’ll shove it down his throat sometime, but he’d probably just laugh and push me down. Fuckin…”

Keith was not the least bit oblivious to Hux’s crush, but chose not to comment on it… with other people there. In private, he’d gladly tease him mercilessly.

… okay, maaaaybe Keith couldn’t resist. “Dude fought through a flock of geese. Actually caught one or two. You should’ve seen it.”

“Of course he did!” Pause. “Did he save any?”

“Absolutely not, but maybe you can lick the blood off his fangs.”

Hux turned bright red, eyes going huge at the idea, and Keith laughed uproariously.

Desperately wanting to change the subject, Hux yelled out, “OKAY PRESENTS NOW.” But he couldn’t drown out Keith and glared at the traitor. “I hate you.”

*

Ah, now Alex's wariness made plenty of sense. Hux was one of those Lamia that had high defenses up at all times. Valerie wasn't surprised that he seemed particularly against her, either. She was a stranger and if he already didn't like humans then she was doubly on his shit list. It was a good thing she didn't have a burning need for him to like her, and being insulted wasn't new either.

Currant, on the other hand, never liked to hear her be insulted. He wasn't normally a very confrontational Lamia but he would happily throw his weight around if it meant she wasn't sad. His hidden bastard side came out to play the moment he sensed something that he could pick at, the only reason he didn't let loose on a barrage of verbal hatred was because Piper was there.

"hope ya never have kids with that mouth," Currant hissed, cupping a hand around where Piper's head was. Like that would prevent him from waking and hearing the garbage Hux was spouting.

Marmalade didn't understand the teasing. Of course Hux would want to mate with a Mamba, it just made the most sense. Sure, Liam wasn't as great as Sangria but a Mamba was a great catch as a bondmate. It likely helped that Liam and Hux were closer in size, any larger of a Mamba and Hux would be pining forever. But there was more important things to worry about, other than what some stranger wanted to mate with.

Hux had insulted Valerie.

At any other time, Marmalade might have let it go. He was a gentle Lamia at his core and Val really disliked when they fought but he was more than capable of defending himself and her. Better Marmalade take care of this than Sangria decide that Hux no longer deserved the pleasure of being alive. Should they ever meet, that is.

"dude," Marmalade deadpanned. His tail coiled around Val, a flash of warning in his gaze. "insult whatever human ya fancy but keep yer opinions on our human to yerself, got it?"

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife... holy shit. "Anyway!" Valerie blurted, pulling one of the geodes out so Hux could see it. Hopefully nipping any fights in the bud. "I have some geodes. Liam seemed to think they were pretty and I'm sure that he would love whatever you didn't want."

Please, she mentally begged. Take them and don't fight.

*

Hux wasn’t so easily dissuaded, at least not from Marmalade. “Wow, geez. Ya don’t have to be so desperate to suck her lady-“

“HUX! CHILD!” Keith knew too well what was probably about to come from Hux’s mouth. “Also that’s just rude!”

Hux huffed. “Right right, whatever. Soul bonds and whatever, who needs that shit! You don’t, right?” He looked up at Keith, grinning in a fakely laid-back way.

Keith stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking away, “Right.” He was lying through his teeth.

“Bros before hoes,” Hux said. “But geez. That weirdo can’t keep her hands off nobody, huh? How do you guys stand that? She tastes like bug spray and dirt.”

Keith sighed, “She works outside.”

“Whatever.”

…

“Do you want the rocks?” Keith said. “No. I know you want the rocks. Are you gonna stop being a butt long enough to take them, or should I keep them forever?” He could take the guy’s vitriol, and he’d rather Hux come at him than the others. That shit could just roll off his scales, and they’d make up when he wasn’t as tense. The others didn’t have that option.

“… yes please,” Hux said, looking aside and blushing. “Oh. And good. I’d be a shit parent, mom or dad. Why have them anyways? Not like they wouldn’t end up being given out… But the rocks will be mine forever!”

*

Valerie usually had no trouble keeping her own vulgarity in check, because she didn't want any of the boys to pick up on her own foul mouth, but Hux was clearly deserving of a brand new title. It was a lot harder to insult her than it was to piss off her boys. Of course he would cause her filter to fly out the window. "Wow. You're a little shit."

Currant huffed, annoyed but amused at the same time. Hux was obviously no threat, likely all talk, so he was easily dismissed. At least by Currant. Marmalade, however, was giving Keith a peculiar look and making no secret of it. It was obvious that nobody else knew about the bond he shared with Alex and he was lying about it. Badly, at that.

Which, fair. Hux clearly didn't like humans for whatever reason and they did live in the same center. But to deny a soulbond... no Chain should ever want to do anything like that. Marmalade cocked his head, staring at Hux now and occasionally shifting his attention to Keith.

"every chain has a soulbond," Currant huffed, not paying attention to Hux but keeping half a mind on the conversation. "even a baby knows that. an unless yer bonded died they're out there."

Probably not the best thing to say but Val hoped to distract Hux with the geodes. Now it was her turn to be a bit of a little shit because he wasn't getting one unless he took it from her. She was likely just as used to hearing nasty comments from someone as Keith was. Hux kind of reminded her of her brothers, thinking that everyone wanted the same things out of life.

"I don't get the craze about having kids either," Val shrugged, waving a geode. "And they're geodes , not rocks. What kind of idiot do you take me for? Rocks can be found anywhere but geodes are rocks with crystals inside."

*

“I ain’t denying it,” he huffed. “Keeps the weirdos away.”

Keith couldn’t meet Marmalade’s eyes. He could guess we’ll enough what the other was thinking. Hiding a soul bond, he must be nuts! But he’s not even sure if it’s legit, not if Alex hasn’t said anything, and she hasn’t made any move to adopt either, so why get Hux all worked up?

“Yeah, well, either the fucker’s dead, or ain’t interested,” Hux said, curling protectively around Keith and hugging him insistently. “We’re lifers, right dude?”

“‘Course we are. Twenty-four years and nothing, why would there be…” Maybe it was just sheer desperation making him drawn to Alex. Maybe the cookies, or the dice. Could you be so wanting that you accidentally faked one with the wrong person just fo have something?

Hux went, “Pffft. A Crystal is a rock. It’s just a good rock. I mean, Great Danes are good dogs, but they’re still dogs. And hey, I ain’t above a rock collection…” He was still coiled around Keith, physically insisting on affection from the other (who, indeed, gave him a hug, stroking his skull) as he kept his eyes on the prize. “What do you say dude? Split ‘em best we can? Look like they come in halves, so I take one half and you the other?” It was like a friendship bracelet, but expensive and actually something they both wanted.

“Ya gotta convince her to give you your half first,” Keith said.

“You said you’d get them otherwise! So just give me half.”

“Eeeeh… I’ll consider it.” He was grinning cheekily, tongue flicking out as he leaned his weight against Hux.

“Rude.”

“I know ya are, I’m just another victim of gravity,” Keith said.

Hux was getting slowly crushed. “Why are you like this.”

“You looooove me.”

“Shut up… but yeah…”

*

Hux wasn't wrong. Being a little shit did keep the weirdos away. That was something Valerie knew from experience. She felt that, had things been different, she might have gotten along with Hux and even liked how blunt he was. The way Hux acted about humans and getting adopted made her wonder why he acted that way. Had something happened or had he just been passed up too many times?

Keith should certainly have been wary of meeting Marmalade's gaze because Marmalade was staring even harder. He doubted that the bond between Keith and Alex was fake, he'd never heard of a Chain that couldn't form that bond, so whatever foolish thoughts Keith was having were likely false. Unless... did Keith just not know anything about soulbonds? Humans didn't always feel it, especially if they were a little more on the dense side.

It would be a miracle if Marmalade kept his mouth shut.... and he just couldn't allow Keith to get away with denying it. "or the human jus' don' know what it feels like. ya can' acknowledge a bond without knowin' it's there."

"A crystal is not a rock," Val denied, already having researched this because Sangria hated rocks being in the house. "Crystals are made up of a highly ordered arrangement of atoms that repeat in a three dimensional pattern, they're closer to minerals."

The dedication Hux had for his friendships was admirable but he was still a little shit and he riled Val's inner sass to maximum levels. She still held the geode aloft, fully prepared to offer them to someone else if Hux continued to resist.

"I mean I guess if you're too chicken to grab one," she hummed, pretending to look around for someone else to give it to. "I can always find another Lamia that might want a geode."

"snrk!"

Trust Currant to recognize her game, she'd played it with him often enough.

*

“I guess?” Keith said. “Some people can have trouble with they stuff I guess…”

Trousle looked at Keith, unamused, “It’s not like it’ll change everything. You’re not a slave to it, you know.”

“Really? ‘Cause, uh… honestly, I don’t know how you guys do it,” Hux said, looking at Marmalade, “Or even why. Someone hijacks your soul and makes you feel shit, so you get closer and make it worse. Why deal with that? Why not just run and hope it goes away? ‘Cause it sounds like some kinda fucked up brainwashing to me.”

Keith kept his mouth shut. In the past he’d agreed with Hux to some extent, but now he wasn’t sure… Was that proof that Hux was wrong though, or that he was right and Keith was just falling victim to it?

While Keith was distracted, Hux tried to slither out from under him to grab the geodes, but Keith still had the presence of mind to flop down even harder, quietly delighting in the noises of rage even through his thoughts.

Nikolai finally walked back in - making Hux stiffen up because he was absolutely caught being a dick again - with a light blue teddy bear that looked like it’d been through its paces. The scent of home was soaked into it, and he’d noticed that Piper especially tended to like it. “Here. He likes curling around it when he’s tired or not feeling the best.” He’d gotten oddly protective of the toy at times, fending off those who’d try to hunt it. Best he could tell, he was trying to mimic Cobalt - the little mamba who defended him from teasing - but with Mr. Bluebeary.

“Now then, what exactly’s happening here?” Nikolai followed up.

“Keith’s crushing meeeeee,” Hux whined, making grabby hands for the geodes while trying to wiggle out. Maybe he could get sympathy?

“Hux is being rude.” Trousle said.

Nikolai was not remotely surprised. “Hux. Don’t be a jerk. Especially not if you’re the one seeking out the people!”

“I didn’t!”

“Why are you in the supplies closet then?”

“…”

Nikolai sighed. “Sorry about him. Are you all alright?”

*

"'s nothin' like brainwashin'," Marmalade said, a slight hiss in his tone. The very idea that he would be forced into a bond was insulting to everything that he was. It clearly showed that none of them understood the bond at all. If Keith did, he wasn't showing it. "the human has nothin' to do with the bond. 's all in the chain. we feel the bond an we decide if we forge it or not. 's a matter of feelin' complete, havin' someone that understands."

Trying to explain how right a completed bond felt was not dissimilar to attempting to explain astrophysics to a toddler. Marmalade's gaze was inevitably drawn to his bonded human, the one who had calmed his doubts and made him feel like he had worth beyond his species. He hadn't thought he would ever get a human either but Marmalade had known as soon as she walked in that she was his and that made her perfect.

"yer bonded fills a void you didn' know you had," he settled on. "but tha's not all they do. 's different for every chain. you jus'... you know tha' the human is fer you and that you would make their world brighter."

It was in no way accurate for what the bond was, any Chain would know that, but the soulbond wasn't so easily defined by one Lamia. What the bond meant to Marmalade would likely not be what it meant to Keith, or any other Lamia.

"Aw," Val cooed, tucking the bear into Currant's jacket so Piper could cuddle it in his sleep. "Thank you, Nikolai."

As much of a shithead as Hux was being, he still didn't deserve to be punished for caring about his friends and not wanting to be alone. So Valerie allowed him to try and hide his blunder, even if it didn't work, and didn't even try to hide her snicker. Hux may have been an asshole but he wasn't a complete lost cause.

"Clearly he wanted the geodes he must have smelled," Val countered. She was giving Hux an out, giving him a way so he didn't have to seem like he'd sought out a human and had just been drawn by presents. She did take pity on his woes and gently laid the geodes into his hands, a collection of them ranging in color and size. "He's quite the character, Nikolai. An absolute little shit."

"snrk!!"

"val," Marmalade laughed.

"I'm fine," she beamed. "Honestly, Hux may be a little shit but Keith seemed to have him well in coils."

*

Piper subconsciously coiled around Mr. Bluebeary in his sleep (apparently just absolutely exhausted since he slept through this), letting out a sleepy purr.

Keith should theoretically know better, and Nikolai and other Chain have told him better, but… Well, after all those years without one, all those years of him and Hux living together, all those years of watching others leave and clinging to those who’d probably stay…

It hurt less to convince himself that it was brainwashing. Hurt less to say he didn’t need one. Hurt less to pretend to pity those who went off happily with their bond mates instead of being jealous…

And then he found one, and she’s actually pretty sweet and fun and just a bit of a weirdo, just like them. Then he started looking forward to her coming. But the old thoughts still haunted his mind, saying he’d been forced into it, that it wasn’t real, but why not?

Keith kept his mouth shut on the matter.

Hux, thankfully, took the bait this time and decided to keep his mouth shut, instead greedily putting as much of himself as he could over the geodes as he inspected them. “Thanks.” His eyes were starting to go wide like Currant’s as he looked inside, peering at the crystals and the way they shimmered, catching the light. “Changed my mind. I ain’t sharing.” He was absolutely keeping these forever.

Nikolai attempted to stifle his laugh, but a chuckle still slipped through, “An apt description of him.”

“I love you, but yes,” Trousle said. Even he wouldn’t deny it.

“Eh… He’s my buddy,” Keith said. “Just a bit prickly.” He captured Hux further in a big hug. Only Hux’s head was sticking out now, the rest trapped under Keith. “Kinda a goober too.”

Hux pressed his face to the floor to hide the rising blush.

*

Currant cooed at Piper, delighted and so enthralled with having a young one to watch over that he didn't care about anything else. Didn't care about anyone else. Marmalade finally allowed the conversation about soulbonds to drop, feeling he had made his point. He peeked closer at Piper, the little guy not having been handed to him, and carefully made sure to take in the Pygmy's scent. Piper would be safer if Marmalade made sure he remembered what he smelled like.

Now Hux was starting to sound like Currant, too. Hoarding the geodes beneath his coils. It was always a little strange to see just how similar different Lamia were within their own species. Yet they were so different too. Hux had finally taken his eyes off her and she didn't feel like he was waiting to take a bite out of her if she moved wrong.

"I've found that the little shits are worth the most," Valerie said, agreeing with Keith. "It's the ones you work with, the friends you make that you have to fight for, that are the best you can have. Hux is one of those lifer friends, isn't he?"

"seems that way," Marmalade muttered, eyeing Hux's position on the ground.

But this was also an experience that Valerie couldn't pass up! She whipped out her phone and snapped a quick picture of Hux, trapped beneath Keith's coils, and sent it off to the boys at home with the caption a little shit being taken in coil with an appropriate amount of giggling. The picture she got in return was.... not a picture at all. Loud laughter spilled from her phone.

"LITTLE SHIT," Sangria wheezed in the video and she saw the grin Lapis directed at the phone camera, along with his typical finger guns.

"Why didn't I think of that?" she whisper-yelled. "A video call with my boys at home... ohmystars I feel like an idiot."

"eh," Marmalade grinned. "val's kinda a goober too."

*

Piper is happily snuggled against his teddy in his new best friend’s pocket with his favorite teddy. That is one blissful bitty bones.

Keith nodded, “Yeah, Hux is a lifer. I ain’t leaving him in to dust for anything or anyone.”

Hux groaned as he realized he was being laughed at, “Just end me now.”

“Nah. You’re trapped in cuddle land,” Keith said lazily, giving him an affectionate squeeze.

“How dare,” Hux said with absolutely no bite, enjoying this but also super embarrassed.

Nikolai chuckled, “These two are quite the pair. Good to hear from you.”

“I’m guessing one of ya is the famed Sangria,” Hux said. “Hey Currant, wanna show ‘em your new lil treasure?” Let the dude show off. It’ll be adorable.

Nikolai had no objections to this. If anything, he was trying to get closer to see Sangria and Lapis’s reactions.

*

Sangria puffed up in the video, gloves hands upon his hips and grin widening at the fact that people knew his name without having to be introduced. Yes, his malevolence was well known to Lamia all over! He didn't quite know how to ask Val how everything was going but things seemed to be going alright. Lapis was giggling, obviously being the one that was holding the phone.

He was hoping that Valerie wasn't bringing any of the full-sized hooligans into his territory, perking at the mention of a treasure.

"Oh, Sangria, he's adorable!" Val was gushing, pointing the camera towards Piper's sleeping face. "Look at him!"

Everyone was treated to the sight of Sangria's eye lights going huge in his sockets, slit pupils expanding into circles that nearly overtook the color. Lapis peeked around the phone so he could see what had caused that reaction. His grin widened.

"IS THAT A CHILD?" Sangria whispered, looking like he wanted to get closer. "ADMIRAL COME LOOK!"

Within seconds there was a cluster of eyes and skulls looking at Piper, a group of cooing Lamia enthused to see him. Well, Valerie hadn't expected this kind of reaction. They had even ignored Nikolai's introduction!

"HI!" Admiral squealed at them, being the first to notice all the others. His darkened socket and scarred cheek momentarily taking up the screen. "Baby?? BABY, BABY, BABY!!"

Aaaand he was off, distantly screeching.

"'pologies," Lapis drawled lazily. Sangria squeaked, demanding he be released so he could speak to everyone. Looks like Admiral was overcome by the zoomies. "mighta gave the kid a lil' too much caffeine."

Caffeine? A caffeinated Pygmy?

That was terrifying!

*

At all the noise, Piper started to stir, eyes peeking open as his mouth opened in a yawn. He started stretching out to wake up, but his coils instead tightened around Mr. Bluebeary. His head bobbed up and down as he fought to wake up, squeaking and chirping, but he lost and drifted back to sleep against his fuzzy little friend.

Nikolai chuckled, giving Piper a little head pat, “He got so excited when he found out about our park week that he didn’t sleep for a few days. Between that and all the excitement of being outside and meeting you, I’m sure he’s exhausted himself.” He then turned to Lapis, “And you. What in the vast reaches of the entire universe possessed you to over caffeinate a Pygmy?”

“Dude. You’re braver than me,” Hux said. “The zoomies would be horrifying.”

“Good luck Sangria,” Keith said, not wishing this fate on any. Well, at least they didn’t over-caffeinate a mamba…

*

The little sounds Piper made as he settled back into sleep were the most adorable thing Valerie had heard in a while and she barely resisted the urge to scoop him up and cuddle him close. He was going to do well with her boys, they'd keep him busy and make sure he was able to sleep through the night. Soon, he would have them all wrapped up in his adorable shenanigans.

"Lapis," she groaned, horrified at the idea of Admiral hyped up on caffeine. "I know you love your pranks but this... I don't see the a peel here."

Lapis beamed, giggling to himself and turning the phone so they could watch Sangria zip around after Admiral. The Pygmy was climbing all over the furniture and babbling too fast at the windows for his words to make any sense. These zoomies were fast-paced and chaotic, Admiral's voice so enthusiastic that Sangria was grinning.

"not brave," Lapis corrected. "jus' need to make sure sangria sleeps tonight. what better way than to have him chase admiral?"

"Its possible Sangria doesn't care," Valerie laughed. "But you had better not caffeinate Piper, Lapis. We don't need two zooming Pygmy."

She had to pause to mentally picture that and it was.... enough to make her nervous. Lapis would absolutely do that to her if he felt like she could handle it and it would be funny.

"thought it'd be funny," the Corny shrugged. "they were both mopin' around."

*

“He’s too young for it right now anyways,” Nikolai said, always the responsible parent. “And keep in mind, at his size, a little caffeine goes a much longer way. I wouldn’t give him anything stronger than white tea and dark chocolate, even as an adult.”

“That sounds like a way to do it though,” Hux said. “And a hilarious way at that! Why deal with mopes when you can watch ‘em zoom?”

“I almost wanna argue against that, but I can’t,” Keith said.

Even Nikolai had to admit, “I suppose that is a strategy…”

*

Valerie turned a mildly horrified look to Hux and Keith, knowing it was already too late to stop the monster they'd created. Lapis was a lazy guy, sure, but when it came to pranks and causing chaos he was the best in the house. And they were fueling his fire by the way he grinned at them.

"jus' make sure nothin' breaks," Currant grumbled with narrowed sockets. "they could go outside."

"a great idea," was Lapis' easygoing reply. "more roomie for the zoomie."

"What have you done?" Val groaned, watching the train wreck happening at her home. Lapis had opened the front door and Admiral was off like a rocket, Sangria hot on his tail. She couldn't help but smile at the way they zipped through the grass and trees, Admiral briefly posing on top of the basking rock with a 'MWEH HEH HEH' that was too cute.

"an when three o' them zoom together..." Marmalade shuddered. "stars..."

*

Nikolai was thinking to himself… partly out loud. “I suppose if Liam gets bored, that’s a way to do it…”

Hux laughed and flashed a devious grin, “I apologize for nothing.”

“I’m guilty as charged,” Keith said. “Agent of chaos, right here. Fear me.”

“Good luck if Piper zooms too,” Hux says. “Kid tried to fight Liam, he might try Sangria too.”

“I am glad they are getting exercise, but there are better ways!” Trousle said, the electronic voice muffled between Hux and Keith. “Like watching Avatar and trying to do the martial arts despite not having legs.”

*

"Oh stars," Val giggled, so horrified by her own imagination that she had ascended beyond groaning. "Imagine if someone caffeinated all the Mamba and Pygmy, though. It'd be an apocalypse!"

Now that she had said it aloud, Valerie felt like she might have just put pure chaos into the center's future. The only benefit she could find was that caffeine didn't last forever and the Lamia would crash pretty quickly.

"eh, sangria likes a challenger on occasion," Marmalade said with a snicker. "an piper 's already a dragon so sangria 'll be impressed. kid has guts."

"but he's jus' bones."

"Oh, Trousle," Val smiled. "Sweet summer child. My boys are basically feral when it comes to having fun and exercising! Even Lapis, the laziest noodle, has chaotic ways he moves when it's time."

"but val," Lapis cackled, "thought ya liked corny zoomies?"

"you jus' do the worm, though."

*

"Oh stars," Nikolai gasped in sheer horror at the thought. "I'm putting locks on all the coffees and tea. Staff only."

"Noooooooo...." Hux groaned, "I wanted to do it."

"I take no responsibility whether it does or does not happen," Keith said. He wasn't gonna bring the apocalypse, but wouldn't stop it either...

Trousle grinned, "Well then! We should hang out sometime! I bet I could "worm" better than you! Lazybones! Heart. Heart. Heart." He stuck his tongue out, wiggling playfully.

*

"That's probably for the best, really." She shuddered a little, cursing her own imagination with every colorful swear she knew. "Better watch the keys too. If you have any Cornies that are even remotely like Lapis, those keys might get stolen. Or the locks picked."

"or you could convince someone on staff tha' you wanted tea an jus' encourage a Mamba an Pygmy hoard to attack the hiding place," Marmalade said with a grin.

"whose side are you even on?" Currant demanded.

"anarchy," was the deadpan response.

"oh," Lapis peered closer to the phone. "hey there, kid. didn't know a papython was around. cool scarf... the worm ain't exactly a papython move, not cool enough, but it'd be fun."

*

"It's okay, I'm the small one! I understand." Trousle said. "Thank you! Val gave it to me! It looks so great!"

"There's no stopping the apocalypse. Just stock up while you can," Nikolai said.

Hux and Keith were laughing.

"I heard that we're not telling Cornies something?" said a Corny. "Also, pass the water bandages, will ya? Rings got cut on a rock."

"Oozy! My man!" Keith chirped.

Nikolai gave Oozy the bandages.

"Give him a pet, yeah? He likes those," Hux said to Val. The layer of ooze on Oozy was thinner and clearer than usual, water having diluted and washed quite a bit away, but there was still a hard-to-see the layer of slime on him.

Oozy was too wrapped up in what he wasn't supposed to be doing to pay attention to the waterproof wrappings (or Hux) though. "Soooooo... what am I absolutely not supposed to know?"

*

"yeah, she loves to give gifts. can't wait to meet you, kid."

There was no doubt that Valerie would be going to the center to see Trousle and all of them again. Next time it would be a big thing where everyone would go.

This new side to Hux was a far cry better than him being a little shit. It felt more like the real Hux had made an appearance and Keith was right, he was a huge goober.

"anarchy now," Marmalade declared. "didn' want a corny to know someone was plannin' on caffeinatin' the mamba an pygmy to bring about the apocalypse."

"don' forget the lockpickin'," Lapis delighted in tacking on.

But Val wasn't really listening to them. She was looking at Oozy and trying to decide if Hux was playing a trick on her or not. It wasn't typical for her to just reach out and pet a Lamia without asking first but even if Oozy did bite her, he wasn't venomous and the worst that could happen is it would hurt. It wouldn't even be the worst pain.

So Val reached out and pet Oozy on the back of the skull. The resulting mucus on her hand was disgusting but also very interesting to pet and she became far more invested in petting it than was normal. She made a noise of intrigue, reminded of patting mud pies as a kid.

"gross," was Currant's hiss.

*

“I look forward to meeting you too!” Trousle said. “Have you ever played DnD? My friends here and I play a few times a week!”

Oozy’s eyes widened, “That sounds like a disaster…” He was totally saving that idea for when he got bored. “Lock Picking Lawyer is pretty cool. I started watching him on one of my YouTube dives. Heh. Learned a lot about locks.”

Oozy’s eyes were on Val’s handy; he was giddy with anticipation, both for the affection and the almost inevitable gross-out. The dude couldn’t help giggling at the face she made, but would never say no to some friendly pets. He shrugged at Currant, used to it, “Eh, it’s life. Slimy, slimy life. Name’s Oozy, good to meet y’all.”

Hux was also laughing at poor Val for falling for it. Keith mentally gave her props for petting him anyways, even if it might’ve been morbid curiosity.

“Mmm… Geez, this has been a good year with girls for me. Might get spoiled at this rate,” Oozy said, longing to capture her in a cuddle, but he got the feeling that would just gross her out. Ah well, someday maybe.

*

"i've helped val make dnd characters before, when she was feeling like drawing chaos. never played any."

"lapis can pick locks, somehow." And Marmalade was still in awe of that random talent. None of them even knew where he'd picked up that skill from. Val couldn't reliably hide anything from him if he became determined enough to get it.

Currant was staring at Val's hand as she petsOozy. This must have been how people felt when they witnessed a horrible accident, horrified but unable to look away. The more she pet the more interested she became and the most enthusiastic about continuing to pet him. It was gross, yeah, but she was fascinated by the fact he was slimy. Like a frog or a salamander.

"Ohmystars," she breathed, using both hands to pet and probably resembling a kid meeting Santa for the first time. "This is so gross but so cool too! You feel like a salamander, ohmygodwhydidtheynameyouOozywhenyoufeellikethis???"

"oh no..."

*

“I could teach you if you want! Keith DMs.”

“I’m Keith,” Keith says, trying to keep Lapis up to speed, “The one I’m sitting on is Hux. Our King is Nikolai.”

Oozy’s eyes went starry and he splayed himself out for maximum petting. “Right? Heh. We can’t quite figure out why? But it’s a thicker ooze when I ain’t wet… or haven’t been in water recently, I’m always kinda wet. And, well, there have been worse Corny names. We seem to attract them.”

“Poor Spoon,” Nikolai said. “I should get naming guidelines…”

“Still better than Radish,” Hux said.

“I think Radish was a honeybo though,” Keith said.

“Still kinda respect the hastily renamed Mamba ‘Little Tucker.’” Oozy said with a grin, bearing his throat for some neck-scratches.

“Princess Garbage Lamp thankfully had that name changed,” Nikolai said.

“Didn’t YOU start that nickname?”

“In my defense, you weren’t born yet to witness that fiasco.”

*

"that'd be great, kid."

The amount of shenanigans that Lapis could inflict upon them is enough to make Currant and Marmalade giggle like schoolgirls. Lapis is still smiling but they can tell he wishes he was the one getting the pets and attention that Oozy is getting. Val was so excited about something different.

"I named my boys after colors," Val's voice was distracted, the feel of Oozy beneath her hands much more interesting. She itched to take pictures so she could draw this later, knowing it would be a huge boon to her visual library. "Color names are the best."

"val's an artist so she likes to name us after stuff she likes an knows." Currant paused, flushing a little. "she also tends to call us gems."

"the truth comes out," Marmalade teased. "nikolai can't name."

"Does it float in the water?" Valerie asked, moving her petting to Oozy's neck and using her nails to scratch lightly at his prompting. "Like, does it come off you and float? Or does your body absorb it, somehow? Does it have a taste? What does it mean for your scales? Do you shed?"

*

Keith smiled, “That’s adorable actually. Like, it’s freaking precious when someone shares part of what’s special to them with you.”

Nikolai agrees with the sentiment, but is also blushing, “I have many talents. Naming isn’t one of them.”

Oozy purrs deep in his chest, eyes shutting in bliss. “Depends on how thick it’s gotten. Fresher ooze might thin out a little bit, but if I’ve been sleeping in it a while, it’ll probably slough off and dissolve after a while. I’m kinda numb to the taste, but apparently, it’s got a salty and tangy vibe, but gets bitter if it stays there too long. I apparently have really uneven shedding, more like parts of the skin just get really soft until a slight bump tears it off. Usually dusts before it fully leaves the slime. I can’t really feel it when it happens though. From what we can tell, this stuff has ups and downs. Have to be careful about fungi, but I out-ick most other grossness. It seals up any cuts, burns, or whatever I might get and keeps them more or less sterile. Not that I get hurt much…”

*

"prolly also helps that none of us had names," Marmalade added. "the center we came from didn' give us names, we knew who was being talked to without that. Jus' easier to let adopters name us."

"don' think piper will get a different name though," Currant said, finally having enough and slithering off Val. "'s a cute name."

Valerie was far more interested in what Oozy had going on. She wasn't inclined towards science but she was curious about everything new that she found out. It must have been a little inconvenient to be covered in goop but it was fascinating that he knew so much about it. She was almost tempted to taste it just to see but Valerie wasn't that adventurous when it cameto trying new things. His word that it was salty-tangy was more than enough.

"Shame you didn't use the pun," she finally grumbled. "Coulda said something about how you can't become too much of a fun gi... But it's really cool. Like a protective layer, right?"

*

“We tried that, but names stick,” Nikolai says. “It’s almost impossible for them NOT to end up called something.”

Oozy’s eyes went wide and he laughed, “Dude. That’s hissterical. You’re really treating me to a good slime here!” He laughed a little more, then went back to explaining, “Maybe? I won’t say I’m entirely unique, but it’s a super rare condition. Ain’t been many chances to study if, so no one’s fully sure what causes it. I’ve had some science dudes and doctors and stuff come look at me. Nothing bad of course. Pretty sure Nikolai would’ve maimed them if they tried to go mad scientist.

“We’ve got a few theories. Some think that my soul is really stubborn in believing that I’m supposed to be an amphibian, or maybe I had an ancestor or two who were part frog or salamander or something. Others think there’s an issue in magic processing, like maybe my body just doesn’t know to slow down, or maybe something in that whole process is just completely borked. Point is, we ain’t sure. We’ve narrowed out a few possibilities, but don’t know why I do this, how to make it stop, or if that’d even be a good idea.

“But eh… whooze worried ‘bout that anyways?”

*

Oh no, he was a typical Corny all right. Puns, something Valerie had only really started to find funny after getting Lapis, spilling forward so easily she was momentarily stunned. He was slightly better than Lapis was and that feat was impressive enough she would have made sparkle eyes at Oozy if she could.

"Or maybe it's just you being such a slick guy that you can't contain it." She wiggled her eyebrows comically, a wheeze from Marmalade accompanying her words, and wasn't she just the smuggest person ever at that? "I guess you could also come from mixed genetics... maybe you had someone aquatic in your history? Aquatic creatures produce a slime too."

She was trying to resist commenting how he might actually be aslug, a lazy slug, but figured that would be rude. And then she had a sudden epiphany that caused her so much glee it almost physically manifested in a subtle glow from her chest.

"Or maybe..." she bit her lip, fighting back a massive grin. "You're a sea slug."

*

Oozy didn't even try to stifle his chuckling as a grin split his face, but he absolutely lost it at sea slug, letting out one of those "Pffffft"s of when you're caught off guard, then throwing his head back in laughter with his hand on his face. "Dude. Omg. That's a newt one. Good thing I'm a sea slug though and not a regular one, 'cause I'm being assalted with puns! Eel give you that, you're pretty good."

Hux was audibly groaning, getting more and more exasperated with every passing pun. Keith was laughing along while Nikolai fondly watched.

*

Valerie lost her battle with laughter, Currant's sockets narrowed in warning while Marmalade nearly collapsed as he wheezed along. She also heard Lapis giggling from the phone, beside himself with the fact he had so thoroughly corrupt her sense of humor with his own shenanigans.

"They just keep coming and I didn't even planet that way. Lapis' humor just seemed to mussel in when I brought him home. I'm not shellfish with the puns, either. Feel free to use 'em anytime."

Marmalade was wheezing so heavily that she was honestly concerned about his health and Lapis had descended into such high pitch giggles that she felt proud of herself. No Corny stood a chance now.

*

Oozy wasn’t sure he could top that. And he DEFINITELY couldn’t while he was too busy laughing his ass off to breathe. Hux was screaming into the floor in exaggerated anguish. Keith was howling. Even Nikolai was laughing along with the rest. This was the best possible result.

And through it all, a confused Krait awkwardly takes the water bandages from where Oozy sat them down, slithering back to the rest and avoiding whatever all this is.

*

It was comical, how she sat back with such a smug look on her face while surrounded by hysterical Lamia in various stages of horror or laughter. They were all lucky they wouldn't pass out from laughing so much or she might have been in trouble. Currant had grown used to the insane amount of shenanigans so he wasn't quite screaming but he certainly wasn't amused by the chaos.

Well, Marmalade had declared that it was anarchy now!

"Don't terrier yourself up about this. I'm pawsitive you can pun back. Though all this laughter is a nice jester from you."

Marmalade was on the ground, almost convulsing with laughter and she didn't even know Lamia could do that.

*

“Hey, hehehe,” Oozy was trying to talk through snorts of laughter, “Oh geez, pffft. Throw me a bone here! You’re doggone good at this, but I’m feline fine!”

“How did we get to cats and dogs? We’re snakes,” Nikolai said with amused befuddlement.

“Eh, she’s petter at some puns than me, but she’s not weaseling her way out of this so easily!”

Hux let out a muffled scream of, “I’M IN HELL.”

Trousle was trying to hide laughter behind an exasperated facepalm.

*

"Oooh, getting into a tearable pun territory now," she teased. "Well, I have a meowtain of puns. Dog puns are a bit ruff but I'm sure I can mange a few. Don't worry, you'll achieve grapeness if you wine a little."

The puns were all over the place and that was what had Marmalade on the ground, flailing around. Lapis never punned with Val like this and now that he knew she could they were all doomed. Just a little taste and Marmalade was unable to control himself. Lapis was sobbing now and showed no signs of stopping.

"look what you did!" Currant announced with a small screech of dismay.

"no grater way to go," Lapis wheezed.

*

“These puns are starting to get cheesy, but I’ll brie fine. Cheddar get ready, I can milk this for all it’s worth if ya let me have my curds ‘n way.” Oozy was NOT one to back down from a pun-off.

This was the most effort Nikolai had seen him put in in a while, so he wasn’t going to stop him…

Oozy kept going, “Cheese and crackers, sometimes I can go against the grain. Wheat’re ya gonna do plow?” He has no regrets. “I’ll keep punnin’ till the cows come home, no need to raise the afarm, but y’know, there’s a reason they call me - (snrk) - Corny.”

*

Oozy was good at this! Val had to pause for just a moment to try and think of a few things she could use. His means of punning was very one track, with a single vein that he went into and kept on, but she tended to like chaotic punnery instead.

A pun battle it would be, then.

"You've goat to wait for gouda puns. Don't pastaway on me now or we'll have a latte problems. Meow you've gone and bun it. Beating you at a pun battle won't be impastable for someone like me. Beclaws I've been practicing."

*

“I’d say it’s your mewve, but I’ll whisker ya away with these, and cat’s not all I have to say.

“Victory’s fleece-ing, but you can sheep well tonight. Cow about ya keep trying, or are ya chicken?

“‘Cause that won’t cut it. Not to hammer in the point, but I’ve nailed it. You saw it, right? I’ve got the tools to win.”

*

Val resisted her laughter for all of five seconds before she snorted. It was loud and hurt a little but it heralded the end of her pun game as she then descended into her hysterics. Keeping up with a Corny was difficult but her mind felt good from having to think up all those puns and her soul felt lighter. He'd been a perfect opponent to flex her punning muscle against.

"I don't think I can top that," she giggled, petting him with barely a twitch. "Probably a good thing too because I think Marmalade is having a fit."

Which was only partially true. Marmalade had exhausted himself and was flopped into a pile on the ground, twitching every time he snickered.

"that was a pawesome pun battle," Lapis declared from the phone. "Cornies win again."

*

Hux was still just screaming into the ground, muffled under a pile of Keith. Keith was coming down from his bout of hysterics (albeit as much from Hux's reaction as the puns themselves), and Oozy grinned. "That was great. Heh, haven't done that in a hot minute. You're dang good at this, y'know? Like, super good."

*

Hopefully, Hux would realize they weren't punning anymore and calm down. It had felt good to be able to sit back and dish out whatever randomness her brain conjured up, pun battle or not. Valerie was just happy to have not made a complete fool of herself. Shame no other Corny had joined in, it would likely have caused permanent mental damage to someone.

"So it's been a cold minute?" She couldn't prevent the question, grin turning smug once more. "Lapis has ruined my sense of humor for all eternity. Puns were one of those things I used to do without realizing but I notice them a lot now. And they're funny!"

*

"I think you mean he improved it, heh," Oozy said. "Man, that was great. Thanks, lil corny. Lil popcorn. Nah, popcorn's too energetic. You're a Kernal. Thanks, Kernal."

"Bet you wish you were that good at nicknames," Keith said to Nikolai.

"It was ONE time! And you know good and well what that Corny did with that lamp."

Hux huffed, finally calming, "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Many things," Trousle said. "You might be prickly, but you still deserve Keith’s cuddles!"

"... You can't pull that surprise sweet shit on me like that," Hux said, red-faced.

"I can. You cannot stop me."

"Nikolai, make him stooooop."

"No," Nikolai said, heading towards the door, "I should be getting back now, who knows what's gone on while I was gone. I don't know when you'll be leaving, Val, but if you can, try to wait until Piper wakes up so he knows what's going on and gets a chance to say goodbye. Thank you."

*

"Depends on who you ask, I guess." Clearly, Hux and Currant thought her sense of humor was ruined, although Currant changed his tune when she was telling him knock, knock jokes. "I'll never hear the end of it. He'll call himself that and Sangria will throw a fit until Lapis says he's waiting to pop into corn."

Which, again, was fair. But Sangria would be equal parts disgusted and horrified. They were lucky he hadn't heard their pun battle or she would never have been able to get away with leaving him out.

"nah, thank you buddy," Lapis said. "clearly I need to come along next time."

"clearly," Currant parroted, a pained look upon his face.

"Puh-lease," Val directed towards Hux. "It was obvious from the start you were secretly a huge softy beneath all the prickles. Just like a cactus."

It was, too. After a while, anyway.

"anarchy," was Marmalade's grave response to what had likely gone on in Nikolai's absence. "pure chaos."

"Oh yes, it was probably a Mamba apocalypse," Valerie agreed. "We'll stick around until Piper wakes up, let him say goodbye, and get numbers so you guys can talk to him until we come back around. I'll be making another donation to the center sometime in the next few weeks."

*

"I apologize for nothing," Oozy said with a shit-eating grin. "I look forward to seeing ya Kernal. We'll have a good slime. Hehehe."

"I'm glad I ain't the only sane one here. Other Coral. Help me!" He managed to wiggle an arm out, reaching for Currant. He was blushing more as he tried to ignore Val's assessment of him.

Nikolai let out a sigh that turned into a chuckle, "I shouldn't expect anything else. Oh well. I guess I'll go save the world." He went for the door, stopping long enough to say, "Thank you. We all appreciate it. I'm sure he'll be really happy with you." Then he left.

*

"as marmalade said, anarchy now," Lapis took great delight in repeating. "we'll have a whale of a good time."

Currant's initial assessment of Hux may not have been very nice but he did have some species pride. He huffed, as if aiding Hux was the greatest weight upon his shoulders, but reached out with his magic nonetheless. The fact that he had magic to spare was a matter of pride, his meals were so carefully planned out just for this reason. A crook of his fingers and he yanked Hux forward.

"Go save the day, Nikolai," Val said with a wave. "I'll try and make sure none of these hooligans get into trouble."

*

Hux whooped and stuck his tongue out at Keith as he managed his great escape… with aid. “Thanks, dude, owe us one.”

Nikolai chuckled, “I appreciate it. And good luck with that.”

Everyone waited for five seconds after he left. Then Oozy immediately said, “Alright, who wants to storm the coffee?”

“NO!” Hux snapped.

“Maaaaybe,” Keith drawled.

“Can I have some?” Trousle had a wide grin, bobbing back and forth in excitement.

“… what have I done,” Oozy said, staring down Trousle.

*

Now Val might have said she would watch the others but she doubted she'd be able to stop any shenanigans that might occur. Currant and Marmalade wouldn't join the chaos, she hoped, so it came down to watching all the others and making sure they didn't cause trouble. But of course Oozy would be the one that would have pranks on the mind, seeing as Cornies were agents of chaos.

"COFFEE?" She heard from the phone, a battle cry that sent her calm expression diving into horror. Sangria had a very distinct tone and he must have out zoomed Admiral to still be awake. The stamina of a Mamba was no joke. He didn't sound like he was as full of energy as usual but not tired either. "DO NOT GIVE COFFEE!"

"no roomie for the zoomie," Lapis announced sadly. "you're all in the city. too much could happen if ya give everyone coffee."

"like that would stop anyone," Currant huffed, cradling Piper against his chest and wondering how the kid could sleep through this.

"anarchy now," Marmalade agreed solemnly.

*

This did not discourage Oozy, "I'm gonna give 'em coffee. Just you wait! I'll do the Boston tea party, but in a krait pond with coffee! JUST TRY ME!"

Hux, trying to stop the apocalypse, pounced on Oozy, nose scrunched as he held the other down. "No. Nope. Nope nope nope nope."

"... ya have to get off eventually," Oozy said, not remotely struggling to get free.

"Bold of you to assume you can out-lazy me," Hux said.

Keith was laughing... and slithering off to grab some coffee.

Piper was stirring some now and then, making noises of displeasure at all the noise, but he'd been on and off zoomies for a few days without sleep. His body finally forced him...

Or tried to. "Coffee!" Piper yelled, demanding.

Oh no.

*

Secretly, or not so secretly, Val doubted Hux could out-lazy a Corny and that the apocalypse wouldn't be happening. She had resolved herself to witnessing the zooms that would be happening, feeling the looks of horror upon her for not stopping this. All she could hope is that it wouldn't be too bad.

And then she heard the little demand and all the terror crashed upon her shoulders. Currant was looking down in shock and Marmalade pressed his face into his coils.

"Oh no," Valerie whispered, scooping Piper up so she could pet him. Even if he wanted coffee she couldn't resist some cuddles from an adorable Pygmy. "I don't know if you'll like coffee, Piper. It's pretty bland."

Please let him be easily convinced by thinking coffee had to be served plain and nothing else.

"UNLESS YOU ADD SUGAR," Sangria muttered from the phone, drawing her stare. "ADMIRAL DRANK THE SWEET STUFF."

"Sangria," She whined but it was too late.

Oh no, indeed.

*

Keith has found a 12 pack of a certain type of cold-brew coffee in the fridge. He shook some of the snacks from the snack machine in trade, sticking a note on there that he regretted nothing.

Calmly, he went out and started distributing the contraband to Mambas and Pygmies.

“Nnnnn!!! But! Need zoom! Get to play outside but ‘m tired and ‘s not fair! Dun Wanna sleep…” He was getting fussy in the way an over-tired child does when they desperately want to keep having fun, little tears budding in his eyes and hiccuping. “Gimme zoom juice! Wanna play!”

*

Piper was hitting her right in the underdeveloped, curdled maternal instincts. He sounded like he was on the verge of a full-on tantrum and she didn't want him to get that upset over some coffee. It had been a while since she'd been around a fussy child that didn't make her want to run in the other direction.

It was an awful idea. She knew it was an awful idea. But Valerie couldn't deny Piper a little bit of fun before they left.

"OK," she took a deep breath. "You can have a small sip of zoom juice. Just a little bit. You can play but we do have to say goodbye. Sangria is waiting at home for you."

"INDEED," her large Mamba huffed. "IF YOU ZOOM NOW YOU'LL SLEEP ON THE DRIVE AND YOU CAN ZOOM AGAIN AT HOME."

*

Piper stared for a moment like he didn’t expect that to work. But once it processed that he had more playtime, he broke into giggles and a grin, trilling happily. “YAY YAY YAY YAY YAY YAY YAY! YA… Yawn AY!”

“Told ya you can’t stop me. I didn’t even have to escape,” Oozy said.

Hux had his jacket hood over his skull and was trying to melt into the ground to escape (ignoring that he could just, like… leave).

Outside, trouble was already brewing as the more energetic Lamia began to ZOOM! One mamba was trying to declare himself king of the entire world, hampered by the Pygmy who had decided to be a superhero all of the sudden and was playfully fighting him. A few bitty mamba were trying to tip over Val’s van (without success, thankfully). Nikolai was holding back swears as he tried to stop one mamba from starting a fire. A Pygmy had somehow trapped himself in a tire swing. It was chaos.

Keith was wondering when he should tell them it was decaf. Placebos are killer sometimes.

*

Some distant part of Val's brain thought she might have been played but she ignored it. Piper had no way of knowing of her soft spot for cute and small creatures, that the sight of tears would break down her walls faster than a wrecking ball. A sip of coffee wouldn't cause him any harm.

"You gonna come out with us, Hux?" She asked, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "Most of the humans should be gone now that the zoom is happening so you don't have to worry about getting adopted. Plus... won't it be funny to see Nikolai handle this?"

Currant huffed at the blatant manipulation but even he doubted Hux would go out to see what had been brought upon the park. He was keen on watching Piper but just keeping up with his excitement from earlier had tired Currant out and he would have preferred going back into the van to sleep.

"let's get the kid some coffee," Marmalade drawled, slithering out before stopping at the chaos.

"Oh my," was Val's faint response, eyes wide as she stared at the sight of the zoomies. It was frightening. She didn't even want to go out there. "I don't know if I'm scared or impressed..."

*

In his defense, Piper wasn’t TRYING to be manipulative, he was upset about it. But usually, when he’d get fussy about needing sleep, people took him to bed and tried harder to have him sleep. But now he’s happy! He gets more zoom!!!

Currant could try to sleep in the van, but there were even MORE bitty mamba trying to push it over, some of them pushing from inside. Even with their combined might, it wasn’t happening.

Nikolai had to hiss some very stern warnings at Liam to keep him from helping, all while holding onto a teenaged, full-sized Pygmy that was trying his best to wiggle free.

Keith was coiled up next to Maia, having told her his trick.

And Hux was willing to watch from afar, if only to see the madness.

This only got better/worse when some random dude decided to make an impromptu donation of three dozen beach balls, including two gigantic ones. No one could escape from the park-wide impromptu game of dodgeball… except the pygmies and mamba that were reenacting the boulder scene from Indiana Jones.

*

Valerie groaned at the hoard gathered around her van, hoping that nothing went missing from inside and holding Currant back from storming it and driving the hoard away. It was just lucky that no larger Mamba or Pygmy were attempting to join in.

"I'll let you go find some coffee to drink but please come back to me when you start getting tired," Valerie fussed, lowering Piper to the ground. "Make sure you tell everyone goodbye too. We'll come back to visit but ask for numbers and bring them to me to save."

She fussed over Piper for a little bit longer before she let him zip off to get himself some zoom juice. The grass was soft enough that she had no shame sitting down, cheek propped on her palm. Currant and Marmalade wrapped around her to keep away the worst of the shenanigans.

"At least everyone is having fun..."

*

Piper nodded and gave Val a little kiss on her hand before going off. Keith was kind/smart enough to give the kid some Mountain Dew: much better tasting, but with actual caffeine, even if not as much as coffee.

Once it hit his system, Piper started to ZOOM, alternating between playing and excitedly talking about his adoption, hugging all his little playmates, and bringing some over to meet Val, Marmalade, and Currant.

He was explaining to some of the mamba - who had given up tilting Val’s car and were now grumbling about it being full of bricks - that he was gonna go home in that car (while chasing a beach ball in circles) when a particularly young bitty mamba shot out and glomped him.

“NO! No you don’t! Mine!” The mamba screeched.

“But I leaving!”

“No! You stay here! I protect.” Cobalt the mamba pouted, holding Piper to his chest and wrapping around him protectively.

“Isssss ‘kay Cobalt! Val’s nice! And Curry loves! They not hurt me.”

“No no no no no! No! You stay! No leave! Is mine!”

“You gonna get a person too!”

“I wan’ YOU!” Cobalt had worked himself into tears, not wanting to let go of Piper…

Piper wasn’t sure how to handle it, “Sssshhh! Shhhh! No cry! No cry! Is ‘kay! You’re real good! They just jealous! ‘Cause pretty scales!” He was just mimicking some of what Cobalt had said to make him feel better.

“I pretty?” Cobalt said, sniffling. “I miss you…” He thought for a little bit, then went over to Val and slithered on her with Piper in tow, “We go now!”

*

Even though there were a lot of Lamia zipping and zooming, Valerie tried to keep her attention on Piper instead. He was a ball of energy, making her tired just watching but filling her chest with joy right along with that. She was introduced to so many Lamia that she had no hope of remembering all the names being tossed at her.

She didn't see what was going on but she heard the screeching, the absolute dismay in someone's little scream. Her soul throbbed with pain and she hoped someone would come along to offer assistance because there was no way Valerie would be able to crush someone's feelings. Marmalade tensed beside her, feeling the feedback of pain within his chest.

It was made even worse when the owner of the screech slithered onto her and she was torn by how small the Mamba was. He was the smallest bitty Lamia she had ever seen and there was the hint of tears upon his face that tore her up inside. The little guy had nothing on Sangria's iridescence, few did, but he was such a pretty color.

Valerie looked around, hoping for someone to offer assistance before she gave in and took him home too. Petting his little head as soon as he seemed to have settled.

"Oh, little dragon," she cooed at the Mamba. "What has you so upset?"

Maybe if she stalled...

*

"You can't have Piper! Is mine! He no go! I keep!" Cobalt hissed. He knew better than to bite, even in the midst of a tantrum, but he was tempted. But then Piper would probably cry...

"But I want go!" Piper said.

"No!" Cobalt said. He clung stubbornly to Piper. "I protect forever! Can't go..."

"You protect good! But I go now."

"Noooooo!" Cobalt sobbed.

Hux couldn't watch any more of this, slithering back inside. It'd been mostly fun watching the others cause chaos, but he knew all too well how Cobalt felt...

Thankfully, the freed Oozy came to the rescue... "Heya kid... why the long face?"

"Piper's LEAVING! But he can't!"

"Sure he can. Yer old enough now. Both of ya."

"But-But..." Cobalt sniffled, nuzzling Piper.

"It ain't like you'll never see him again," Oozy said. "I've had friends get adopted, but they still come back all the time. And I know Val's gonna keep in great touch. He can still call you."

"Not same..." Cobalt said, half holding and half leaning on Piper. "He's friend..."

"I know kiddo... I know. But hey, you'll get someone too one day, y'know?"

"You haven't," Cobalt said with a huff.

"I'm a high-maintenance Corny, you're an awesome little mamba. We're two different things entirely. You'll be loved."

"... I want Piper with me," Cobalt said. "You stay?"

Piper kissed Cobalt's cheek, "Love too! But I go. I come back! And bring toys!"

"Promise?"

"Mm-hmm!"

"And talk! Phone talk!"

"Yeah!"

Cobalt sniffled, holding Piper close. "... 'kay." He then looked at Val, little stare withering. "Take care! Be extra nice and give treats! Tell him he look good! If you be mean, I bite you!"

"She nice!" Piper insisted.

"Better be..."

Meanwhile, in the background, Nikolai let out a loud shout of, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WAS DECAF?!"

*

She knew there was something wrong with her when she found the tantrum to be more adorable than anything. In typical Mamba fashion, his tantrum came down to someone taking what he viewed as his and a lot of yelling. Nikolai must have told them that biting was a very bad thing to do because he didn't try and take a chunk out of her in the midst of his ranting.

Oozy was a gift. Calming down the tantrum and saving her from giving in to the cuteness of the little Mamba's attitude. If he had been full-size she would have been more intimidated than she was but he was adorable before he was frightening.

"If I didn't have Sangria at home I'd take you too." Valerie couldn't hold the words back if she wanted to. "But I know a little dragon-like you will get a good home. Who wouldn't want such a pretty Mamba?"

Hopefully, the compliments helped because she would rather not get bitten.

"don' worry kid," Currant said, calling attention to his own warning stare. "val 'll take good care of piper. he'll have his own rock to bask on, his favorite candy, an' so many toys he'll be able to share with ya that all the other mamba 'll be jealous."

"not ta mention she might let piper bring ya sour candy jus' for you next time," Marmalade added. He heard Nikolai's shout and had a devious idea. "an' we can bring more coffee next time."

*

Cobalt sniffled again, but wiped his face and smiled up at her, "Yeah... 'M pretty cool! I gonna get good! Mm-hmm!" He giggled and nuzzled Piper. "You get good too. Deserve it. Miss you..."

"Miss you too. But is 'kay! I see again."

"Yes! And bring sour candies! And coffee!"

"Okay! We do!"

"Good!" Cobalt said. That said, he was still reluctant to go just yet... "We go play now."

"Okay!"

And they did! The two zoomed around the park together until Piper once more started losing the fight with sleep. Cobalt had to half-drag him back, and even then almost started crying again, but they said one see-you-later, and Piper curled up to sleep on the ride home...

And that Corny, who ate more sweets and has now conked out in the glove box, is apparently coming too.

*

Disaster averted, Val flopped back against Marmalade and Currant while Piper ran through his caffeine buzz with his friend. It was much better to see a happy Mamba than to see one that was likely contemplating biting. It likely wasn't long enough for the Mamba to come to terms with having to say goodbye but he did. Currant accepted Piper and they all wished everyone a good evening, saying their own see-you-laters.

"Everyone will sleep good tonight," Val mused, helping Currant into the front seat of the van so they could settle into the blankets. She searched around to make sure there weren't any stowaways and Marmalade assured her they'd all left. "We got a long drive ahead of us, I'll stop and get more snacks for the road."

She climbed into the drivers seat, feeling warm and good about how the day had gone. It was one of those perfect days where she made plenty of friends. Once at home she would put numbers into the phones and have Piper call so everyone would know he'd gotten there safe.

Marmalade picked a song for the start of the ride, Val singing along, and they began their journey home. Unaware of the hidden Corny in the glove box.

[fencesandfrogs]

cloudtail’s daughter: dovewing

so i felt the compulsion to analyze more of the warrior cats bloodlines in terms of genetics but i'm not going to do that, that feels like a bad use of my time.

instead, i'm going to keep writing about the cloudtail's daughter au. namely, now that i've described the basics and gone over some world building stuff, i'm going to discuss each of the protagonists in turn. this isn't going to be about their books, but an overview of what they do across the series. i'll do book summaries later. and then i'll just write the whole fanfiction why-don't-i.

anyway, we're starting strong with dovewing, because she's the whole reason i'm writing this gd au.

section one: lovewing dovewing

so dovewing. i've talked the most about her so this will either be the shortest or the longest post in this collection. my money is on the longest. first, i want to talk about why i love dovewing so much:

i have sensory issues. dovewing has sensory issues. that's all.

oh, and i think her and tigerheart are cute.

anyway, in serious, dovewing is an underappreciated character. she gets a lot of flak for replacing hollyleaf. i hated hollyleaf when i first read the books, so i was happy for a replacement, especially in the form of a fluffy grey kitten, but even now that i'm older and have a larger appreciation for hollyleaf, i still love dovewing.

she's caring and anxious and awkward and easily overwhelmed. she's selfish, but no more than is reasonable in a child. she legitimately loves her sister but can't quite understand why ivypool is mad at her all the time. she's desperate to prove herself, and she's shattered when the external thing she's anchored herself to is ripped away from her, and she really does have sensory issues that plague her throughout the series, are aren't really resolved until she's an adult with kits. (even then, i'd personally argue she's just no longer a focus so we don't see it anymore. given that shadowsight finds her in tigerstar's den a lot, i'd almost bet that she's hiding from the outside world. that's an inference, though, that's weakly grounded.)

so yeah, dovewing appeals to me as a character, but i also understand why people aren't so universal fond of her.

section two: dovekit

dovekit is born to cloudtail and brightheart. she's fluffy. very fluffy. ivykit is also fluffy, but she becomes sleek over time. dovekit stays fluffy.

at first, the nursery thinks she might be deaf, because she's really slow to respond to auditory cues. she's really fast to open her eyes, too, which just compounds everyone's thinking. but they confirm she's not deaf, just, well, they don't know.

her father is big and fluffy and concerned for his wife, so she spends a lot of time with him. cloudtail notices she's always hiding in him, like she's being chased, and she speaks really quietly. so he's like. hey, brightheart, love of my life, i think our daughter is hearing too well.

brightheart is like damn that's a thing? cloudtail is like idk but explain this (and he points to dovekit, repeating their conversation to ivykit too far away to hear it that well.)

everyone is a little aware of firestar's general approach to throw-the-disabled-cats-in-the-healer-hole approach to disabilities, and so they decide to handle it as a family matter. ivykit, being equally young, is mostly left out of this. of course, they don't know how to compensate for hearing too much, only too little, and it eventuall becomes obvious dovekit isn't relying on sight the way she should either. but eventually, she starts to learn the names for what she's hearing, starts to recognize what's coming from in camp and what's coming from out, and that lets her attach images to words in a way she was struggling to do before.

her nose gives her minimal issues, because it's just a little less overwhelming. it's the weakest of her external senses, so she's not smelling the whole territory at once.

anyway, they also realize she's hyper aware of touch. she hates the rain, she's cautious around new textures, and she continues to sleep on top of brightheart for a very long time because mom = soft, nest = not. they don't really know what to do about that, so she just kind of learns to suck it up.

but she really doesn't like it.

anyway, ivykit is a typical kit, and dovekit just kind of sits there. staring. with big, blue (kittens eyes start blue then change colors her eyes will eventually be green) eyes. and just when you think she's zoning out, she turns to another conversation across camp and starts talking in it like they can hear her. but i mean, there have been worse kits starting their apprentices.

(leafpool thinks its a shame they have a fully trained medicine cat, or she would make, well, not a good medicine cat, but certainly better than a warrior. jayfeather does not want that. jayfeather is right.)

section three: dovepaw I, pre-beavers

dovepaw and cinderheart are a good duo. cinderheart is young, but patient and caring. and no one thinks dovepaw will be a difficult apprentice.

she excels at scenting territory, even if she is a little cautious of where the borders are, and she can seek out prey very well. she lands a couple of early catches, making ivypaw grumble, but for, like, a moon afterwards, she fails to catch a single thing.

not a ton happens in this time, to be frank. dovepaw and ivypaw squabble but there's no wedge between them yet. dovepaw wants to impress cinderheart but she can't focus. she can locate prey but she never catches it, and her crouch is always perfect but she misses the target, and she doesn't understand why. cinderheart doesn't either.

so, dovepaw knows everyone is treating her with kid gloves, and she's pretty resentful about that. she decides to sneak out at night and practice hunting. she's mostly unsuccessful, and she eventually falls down the tunnels and meets fallen leaves and is stuck there for about three days. ivypaw finds her, and helps lead her out. dovepaw is thankful to be home, but feels like even more of a failure. this is when she becomes full and proper anxiety child. (this is actually a major part of book one, distance whispers, but it's really more part of ivypaw's journey that dovepaw, because dovepaw spends most of it hurt and scared and hungry.)

then, dovepaw hears the beavers. (in the tunnels, she could kind of hear the other parts of thunderclan, but not the beavers. eventually she's like, "yo cinderheart what part of territory has the loud click clackers." cinderheart is like "wtf.") the lake has been drying up, but dovepaw was born into a drought. she doesn't know what's going on, not how bad its getting. but the beavers? yeah. she tells cinderheart about them and cinderheart is like "ohhhhhh. dovepaw is special. that explains a lot." and tells firestar about it. anxiety dovepaw vibrates by her side the entire time.

interestingly, dovepaw is a lot closer to firestar in kinship than she is in the original (because she's actually kin of his kin), but she's still not super close to him. he's pretty old, and she's decently far removed from him. he cares about her as cloudtail's daughter, not as dovepaw, if that makes sense? like any care for her beyond the care extended to any other apprentice is not because it's dovepaw, but because she's cloudtail's daughter.

section four: dovepaw II, beavers

so dovepaw knows she's dragging 9 cats on a crazy quest.

(why nine? a) i think it's neat if nine is a holy number for cats. much better than eight. b) hollyleaf needs to come so there's a narrator during this. it can't be cinderheart or hollyleaf and jayfeather & lionblaze and cinderheart share their books like ivypool and dovewing, and i don't like that because then there's a false parallel being drawn where it doesn't make sense. like, i could do that, but the problem is, the books don't line up with key points in their relationships. so. doesn't work.)

anyway, dovepaw knows this is insane and she feels desperate to prove herself. she's in front of warriors from other clans, and she can barely hunt, and her senses are going wild. cinderheart takes her aside and is like, "so dovepaw, do you want to tell them what's up? we can explain."

and dovepaw, anxiety child and desperate, is like "sounds like an excuse, so, no."

tigerheart is like, this dovepaw. she's fluffy. she's cute. dovepaw is like. this tigerheart. he's fluffy. he's cute. and they get off like gangbusters. tigerheart is gentle towards dovepaw, but not in a way that makes her feel like its because she's fragile. it's because she's dovepaw. and he wants to be gentle to her. cinderheart is like, "this might be a problem," but this is also the first time she's seen dovepaw out of her shell and talking at a reasonable volume. so she's not about to stop this. at least, not yet.

(cinderpelt may or may not be like "hey hey hey do you remember the leafpool drama? do you want to do this again?")

tigerheart is also super quiet. this isn't really a product of him, so much as their environment, but he's quiet when he's not talking and loud when he is, and dovepaw just feels safe around him. so they get close.

for the most part, the rest of beavers proceeds as in canon. there's no reason to change it, even if cinderheart wasn't strong like lionblaze, having hollyleaf there would definitely compensate. so they're fine.

they return victorious. dovepaw, by the end of the journey, is practically sleeping on top of tigerheart.

it's not really romantic yet, by the way. dovepaw started this journey sleeping on top of cinderheart. everyone in thunderclan knows that dovepaw sleeps on top of people. but tigerheart is big so he basically doesn't notice when dovepaw, who is tiny and isn't done filling out (she's full height all the apprentices are that's how cats grow) is on top of him.

cinderheart is like, "this is definitely a problem." hollyleaf and cinderpelt are facepalming.

but no one wants dovepaw to go back to being quiet, and she's already kind of shut down after the deaths taking care of the beavers, so they all try to bring dovepaw into the group, and dovepaw doesn't resist, she just likes tigerheart. she's going to miss him a lot when they get back, and that's why they keep meeting. because tigerheart doesn't treat dovepaw the way most thunderclan cats do, and she likes that.

also, after they get back, she develops a huge crush on him.

(since we don't get tigerheart perspective in this series, i'll add in here: tigerheart has complicated feelings about dovepaw. warrior cats do not establish a good age for cats to be with each other, but i'm going to say that if dovepaw and tigerheart were in the same clan, everyone would assume they were leaning towards mates. but they aren't, which makes it complicated. he likes her companionship, and he's not opposed to her as a mate, but mostly he feels deeply protective of her and cares deeply about her. kind of like how i assume brambleclaw and squirrelpaw were supposed to be portrayed, but like, done well.)

section five: dovepaw III, post-beavers (pre-tribe)

so this is probably the section that's most similar to canon, but it'd like to do the tigerheart dovepaw shit better. hopefully, by setting up tiger/dove better before, they'll be more compelling now.

anyway, ivypaw is annoyed at dovepaw, and dovepaw is like, "bruh i can't even hunt"

dovepaw feels really inadequate because now everyone thinks highly of her even though she can't do anything. she overhears someone (greystripe? brambleclaw? lionblaze?) discussing making her a warrior, and she feels even worse. (ivypaw also overhears this, but not for superpower reasons.) she feels especially bad because she knows ivypaw is holding back and now dovepaw is getting rewarded and that can't happen.

so dovepaw is falling apart, and cinderheart decides something needs to be done. piecing together everything she knows about her apprentice, she decides mabye the mountain is helpful.

section six: dovepaw IV, tribe

okay we have a travelling book. not that this is about the books, but this takes place in about one book, so i might as well point that out.

anyway, cinderheart, lionblaze, dovepaw, and ivypaw all head to the tribe. why them? lionblaze knows ivypaw is holding back. anyway, we're not covering them.

so they get there and dovepaw is like "too loud too loud can't hear shit too loud" but the tribe kind of knows how to deal with this. see, tribe kits are born with the waterfall in the background, but every now and then, a queen will kit away from the main cave, and so they have to make a temporary den for first two moons, minimum, of the kits' lives. more if it's winter. so when those kits get to the waterfall, they're overwhelmed.

and here, with nothing to hear or see but what the tribe hears and sees, dovepaw is on level footing. they let dovepaw train with the prey hunter to-bes, and she's basically starting over, but she's not that old compared to the tribe to-bes, and the strategy works well for her. ivypaw doesn't really fit in, but they decide to train her to be a cave guard.

dovepaw is succeeding but barely, and ivypaw is still excelling (from dovepaw's perspective), and all dovepaw wants is to be good enough, and then cinderheart is expecting them to work together, and no one can hear dovepaw because she talks too quiet.

but ivypaw and dovepaw do make a good team. so. two to three moons later, before winter sets in and they can't leave (or they stay over winter, not sure, need to check timeline of books), they head home.

dovepaw, senses blocked, is at 200% anxiety 100% of the time, and she's vibrating, but at least she can hunt. i mean, hunt as well as a fresh apprentice on their first patrol, but she's improving rapidly, as long as ivypaw is with her.

section seven: dovepaw V, post-tribe (final dovepaw)

so dovepaw gets better and better at hunting, and she learns to keep track of non-ivypaw cats, and they're finally made warriors.

dovewing and ivypool sit vigil and dovewing realizes that it's not that hard to not talk to ivypool. and she's not a fan of that.

section eight: dovewing I, tigerheart

at this point, dovewing is in BGCH, so this is probably the most important part of her life for this post. anyway, dovewing and tigerheart continue to meet. they are in L-O-V-E love. it's not in the books because we know it's happening and it'd get boring we had a book of them bonding we don't need another unless it's a romance novel (dovewing's silence, tigerheart's shadow).

anyway, this is when the bumblestripe drama occurs. she is, for lack of a better word, bumblestripe is courting dovewing while dovewing is planning to elope with tigerheart. but bumblestripe treats dovewing softly. with kid gloves. like she is a fragile thing he needs to protect.

this is distinctly different from tigerheart, who views her as precious and worthy of protection, someone he loves and would dedicate his life to keep safe. she's not fragile. she's strong.

so yeah bumblestripe can't figure out why he doesn't like her. dovewing tries to express it. dovewing also misses ivypool. i'm not sure who she's friends with right now. i don't have a good handle on young cats her age. poppyfrost? briarlight?

honestly, yeah, she gets on with briarlight and jayfeather. her sense of smell was too overpowering as a kit for her to like the medicine cat's den, but now that she's older and she's learned to cope, she starts to bond with briarlight. for one, it gives her a convient bumblestripe spacer, and for another, briarlight and jayfeather are legitmately kind and caring cats.

(yes, jayfeather. we'll talk about him.)

ivypool eventually begins to make it up with her, but both of them are tense about the affair.

anyway, this carries on, status quo, until the prophecy is revealed.

section nine: dovewing II, dovewing in shadowclan

so dovewing and ivypool are sent to shadowclan. tigerheart is a little upset about dovewing not telling him about the prophecy, but she was ordered not to via medicine cat, and that's a higher power he respects. so for the most part, they're okay. a little bit of squabbling as they're adults living together now for the first time, but they're alright. she eventually goes back to sleeping on top of him.

pine needles are prickly, she likes soft things, ivypool is mad at her all of the time. dovewing is good at hunting in shadowclan territory: with less birds and twigs, she can focus on the important sounds. she's not a fan of frogs and lizards but not everyone in shadowclan is.

and most of all, everyone in shadowclan treats her normally. no one cares that she's a prophecy cat. no one minds that she's slow to talk sometimes and she's kind of spacy. she's kind and she's a good hunter and a good tracker, which is a valuable skill considering their land can get pretty wet.

so yeah. dovewing and tigerheart are basically mates in all but name, and she wishes ivypool wasn't mad at her all the time, but she's happy for the first time in ages. they begin to discuss moving her to shadowclan after the battle. things are good.

section ten: dovewing III, the battle

so dovewing's job during the battle is not to listen all the way to the dark forest. that's stupid.

i'm not 100% sure what it is yet, tbh, but it definitely involves informing strategy. i'm thinking she basically opens her mind up to the terretory and jayfeather taps into her mind and communicates this to messengers and the like.

either way, she doesn't really care about it. or, well, it just gets erased from her mind because trauma. that's a better way of saying it.

section eleven: dovewing IV, dovewing's silence, bramblestar's storm, tigerheart's shadow

so this is past the scope of this au, but basically, dovewing gets "trapped" in thunderclan because of the storm and not being ready to move to shadowclan yet. she still does all of her screaming in the tunnels thing because as hard as her senses were to learn to manage, they were her's and she doesn't really know how to function without them.

i'm not sure who dies in the battle, but probably cloudtail. i'm way more attatched to brightheart. maybe they don't lose anyone. i don't know.

she leaves in tigerheart's shadow because she's got self-worth issues and forgot that shadowclan dgaf if she has prophecy powers. tigerheart also makes her feel a little unvalued by not following her. but from there, things go on as in canon.

dovewing? done.

[project-ohagi]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks x Reader {Kingdom AU}

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Why do birds deem it necessary to shout during such early hours?

The matutinal chirping was that which your mind vehemently claimed to hate, and yet you couldn’t get enough - you remained unsatiated, even as the chorus reached its most deafening. Your hunger for the oddly-mellisonant noises grew with each passing day.

It tells me that they're still alive. When did I begin longing for such an ensemble, so spirited…so within my grasp? Perhaps they hide the key to my cage…to this prison of self-spite and deceit? If only I could capture one. I would ask it all that I wish to know - its infinite knowledge of my future…if I am doomed to live. The birds here…they’re so, incredibly free. I yearn to have that same liberty.

With a drawn-out sigh, you added, That's but a mere fantasy, a childish day-dream. It is certain to disappear with time. These shackles are the curse of my birth. Freedom…true freedom…it will forever evade me.

Your untamed, maudlin delusions penetrated every crevice of your being, but as you rose from a half-slumber, you pushed them down. Shifting your focus to something real, something imminent, was the best course of action. So, exhaustion-glazed eyes ghosted over the makeshift bed to which you had confined yourself. Or, more accurately - to which the villagers had confined you. This was far from a gesture of concern for your health, although disease was often rife amongst the peasantry. No…this was the result of their refusal to so much as acknowledge your existence. Only work managed to rouse you. Work - the very warrant for your ostracization. In a way, you supposed that was valid. You never wanted such unsavoury jobs, but how else were you to make ends meet…especially now?

What if I simply abandoned my post? Would I be punished? Executed? Either way, I am deserving of it. If only death could cleanse me of my sins…Is food off the menu today, too? It is becoming nigh-impossible to find enough, even for a single day. No-one sells to me anymore. Not even that kindly old woman near the village outskirts…

"Is that my fate then, to die of starvation?" Despite the indifference lacing your tone, you prepared for an onslaught of tears.

This world, infinitely cruel and rotten as you perceived it, seemed to loath your very essence. It slowly whittled you to the bone, rejected your abject cries and those pitiful, helpless tears. Yet, not a soul threw you pity - not even an ounce. Nothing should have tethered you to this ground, this filthy house, where the faintest illumination of a flickering candle was all the hope you could afford. Though, lack of money was never truly the problem. No…the fault lay solely with the villagers. And the King. If only you hadn't been threatened to assume your mantle. If only this was the fantasy - this bloodthirsty kingdom, the ignorance to such plights as yours, the senseless slaughter of your parents…

By my own hands. I cannot masquerade as the victim forever. They already haunt me…the ghosts. All the ghosts…

"It would be a fitting end, I suppose." The breaths that tore apart your lungs failed to distract your wandering gaze.

It fell suspiciously upon an unopened scroll, donning a sickeningly-familiar wax seal. Had a member of the Royal Guard crept inside, under the cloak of night? It appeared that even the most highly-trained soldiers in the land would wretch at the thought of an encounter with you, awake and alert. How utterly ridiculous. A young, sullen-faced girl couldn’t exactly compete with the King's personal guards, even if you were able to wield an axe. Your defeat would be anticipated, underwhelming. You strolled over to examine the parchment, malnutrition forcing your slowed movements. It was a fresh order, you wagered, straight from the King himself.

I had hoped to be proven incorrect. No bother. Well…perchance with another few coins, I could convince a poor villager to sell me some bread? A nice loaf, maybe?

Your stomach grumbled its agreement. 'Kill or be killed' wasn’t simply an idle comment, after all - it encompassed the very nature of humanity.

"Brutish." A susurrant sound tumbled from your lips. "But I am no better."

If honesty must prevail in this world, then I shall attest to being so much worse.

The scroll's seal broke with ease, leaving you to unfurl the paper and trace the words, bile endeavouring all the while to scale the walls of your stomach. The name engraved in black ink was a recognisable one. He, alongside his unfledged son, worked as palace servants. The latter was especially flighty, always being reprimanded by his seniors. This, you had witnessed on occasion. A fleeting glance was all you ever allowed yourself, and that name never once caused your skin to crawl so horribly, as it did now.

"XXXXX Takami…a thief?"

Is there no justification? I wonder if he truly stole anything. The King is most likely in the mood to watch an execution today. If so, then this will not be the first instance of an innocent dying by my hand.

As guilt poured from your eyes, silent and crystalline, you muttered, "I cannot profess to be his champion. Nor even my own…Why must my resolve be so frail?"

Why must cruelty reign supreme?

Your reflections were quelled by the searing pain exuding from the mark that tainted your wrist. It was customary for executioners, but designs varied. You were unfortunate enough to be branded with something simple, yet imbued with the weight and meaning of an entire people. It was as though your words, however few, and your actions, spoke for all your kin. It was curious, as the symbol was the runic ᛒ, although Japan was far removed from any other civilisations. The deplorable truth of the matter, was that it solidified your societal status. It served as a reminder that you wouldn’t ever escape from the Burakumin - the lowest class. The peasants. The dirty, the untrustworthy, the sinners. You couldn’t cover it up. To do so might be counted as treason, fighting against the authority of the crown. You would be executed, just as your parents, and now…as this conceivably blameless man.

…This father.

You would so disturb the structure of a family?

Have I any other choice?

Life never presented you with choices, different paths to follow, to branch off from the main narrative. The door to your cage was securely chained. The key, presumably, rested within the bulging pocket of the King. Your sleight-of-hand skills weren't masterful enough to allow the evasion of every soldier at the King's command, so you couldn’t ever move to grasp self-sovereignty. That worthless tyrant had to understand this. He likely laughed at the image. You couldn’t simply neglect your responsibilities, for this one man, for his youthful son…

What use are sentiments, if only to distract from this morbid reality? Their family cannot be satisfied, if he would stoop to thievery. Criminals cannot proceed unpunished.

"Though they can, and often do." The glimmer of remorse reflecting in your eyes alluded to the ever-dwindling fire in your soul - you couldn’t comprehend your position…why you still lived, after everything - every rolling head, every spatter of blood, every jeer and taunt…

Between the burning of the brand on your wrist, and the nipping of the tears in your (e/c) irises, you decided that a moment of respite was needed. You perched on the unsteady floor, clutching both face and wrist. Why was this happening now? Morning-tide shouldn't be harder than any other time - least of all early afternoon, when families would gather around the execution grounds, blithely chatting away and gnawing on bread, or the rare sliver of cheese that almost compelled you to salivate. Honestly, it was a miracle you could still hold the axe aloft, in spite of your meagre diet. You sighed, rehearsing the time of this newest dispatch. Three hours…that was hardly fair. It required far longer to mentally prepare for such a killing. This man had a wife, surely, and a son! As you defended against the sick feeling nestling in your stomach, the repugnant sight of ebony in the corner of the room caught your attention. You wished so desperately to sacrifice that garb to the flames of Hell. You couldn’t bear to look at it, let alone adorn it.

Why do I bother to wear a mask, when they all recognise me?

Oh, of course…"It veils my tears."

And also, perhaps, my rugged appearance. I cannot even claim to resemble a respectable young woman. The villagers would sleep easier without beholding such an unsightly face. I should pay thanks the gods that the cloak disguises my figure, as well.

Broad shoulders and pancake-like breasts plagued your waking thoughts, but they were well-shielded underneath the dark, flowing robe you had just picked up. You utterly despised them. With less than three hours before the execution, you slipped on the cloak, but left the mask. It couldn’t be properly washed by hand - the blood of hundreds, innocents and sinners alike, had seemed to seep into the very essence of the fabric. It repulsed you, and yet an odd warmth accompanied it. Maybe…because it was the only constant in your life? The only thing providing purpose, whether you desired it or not? The fragrance was familiar, sometimes comforting on a particularly savage night. It nearly stung.

Just as a sorrowful breath escaped your lips, a series of frantic knocks alerted you to the door. Your entire being shuddered, nerves exploding. A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead. If you opened that door now, which now appeared more foreboding, who would you greet? The Captain of the Royal Guard? That once-lovely elderly woman, who used to sell you bread? A tax collector? A thief? Nobody in their right mind rapped on the door of an executioner…an outcast. They must have a certain degree of battle prowess, then. Shakily, you started towards that wooden entrance.

The knocking never ceased. In fact, was it intensifying? Whoever this was, they were desperate.

There would be nowhere for them to hide, in this small house.

The door swung open, revealing a dishevelled young man.

Is this…him?

The moment his words flooded your ears, the whole world collapsed around you. "Are you the executioner who is going to kill my father?"

You wanted to deny, to beg for forgiveness, but you couldn’t. Instead, with an averted gaze, you responded, "I am afraid so."

"You don't…you don't want to? You aren’t excited about this?" His tone indicated confusion, perhaps even sympathy.

To where did his formalities retreat? What a brazen boy…

You shuffled in discomfort. "I apologise for not taking pleasure in my work."

He looked unsure. "Please don't kill him. He is not thief - it's a lie!"

"That is quite a claim. Do you have any proof?" You didn’t wish to interrogate the poor soul - he was about to lose the greatest role-model he would ever know.

"No…" He stared at the ground briefly, before a fiery determination illuminated his eyes, and he looked back up. "…Would you…would you help me save him? Please?"

Does he assume me a hero? Or a vigilante?...Me?

The idea was half-baked, teeming with flaws. Wasn’t your capture, and subsequent execution, almost inevitable? Clearly, this had been a spontaneous decision, and the consequences floated just outside his mind. You swallowed down any further words. Something about him, something he exuded…pain? Fear? There wasn’t a single spark of confidence twinkling behind those golden eyes, and yet…you felt your heart pounding in compliance. In truth, did you not yearn for such an opportunity? Did you not wish to bellow to the universe, that you were capable of possessing a righteous nature, even at the expense of your life? If you couldn’t save one innocent from your own axe, you would never again begin to dream of redemption. It would set in stone your utter worthlessness.

Paranoid, (e/c) eyes skirted around the boy, searching for any characters of suspect. With a heaviness burrowing amid your heart, you ushered him inside your humble abode. Immediately, he spotted the scroll lying on the table. You made no effort to divert his attention.

After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke. "(L/n) (Y/n)…that your name?"

"Yes, though I rarely hear it anymore."

"Would he be in the dungeons right now? My father, I mean." He was deep in thought, incredibly serious.

Your gaze strayed - this boy was far too ethereal to be viewed by your peasant eyes. "Yes, along with the other prisoners."

"You believe me, don't you?" Shock was evident in his voice.

"Should I not?" You questioned, still refusing to glance his way.

A low chuckle tore from his lungs. "You should. How long do we have? We need a proper plan, right? Unless you're leaving me to do this alone. Something tells me you aren't willing to do that…"

"Alone, you would achieve nothing."

"Haha, well, behind every man there's a strong woman, right?" He displayed a closed-eye smile, blinding you for the few, sparing seconds you allowed yourself to witness it.

You couldn’t have realised the crimson hue worming its way on to your cheeks. "Absolutely not."

"Why're your replies so short? You not like talking to me, or something?"

Is he forgetting his reason for being here, so quickly?

"What of this plan? What of your father's fate?" You asked, hoping to remain on topic.

He chuckled again, sourly this time. "The plan…I was thinking, would it be possible to sneak him out of the dungeon? Or…replace him with someone else? I know it's horrible, and I feel awful about it, but…"

"The first one would never be possible. If we entered as two, and left as three, would you expect not to be questioned?" You bit your lip in contemplation. "On foot, journeying to the castle will take an hour. No matter our plan, we have to leave soon."

"You're right…of course you're right." He smiled, crookedly. "Is it bad to say I hate that?"

Shaking your head, you muttered, "Once in a while, the prisoners will wear masks, to shield from the jeering eyes of those in the crowd."

"So…if we had someone with a similar figure…" He trailed off.

Is this…a choice? Do I really have the option to save someone? To do a modicum of good, for once in my life? I…I have to...I cannot tear apart this family. I cannot accept that responsibility.

"Me."

The concerned expression painting his face was replaced with one of terror, of guilt. Clearly, this was an unexpected turn of events, and he opened his mouth, about to protest. He was likely to spew some nonsense regarding being young, throwing your life away…but you would remain resolute. You wouldn’t waver - not on such an important matter. As the years slowly trickled away, you had already reached a conclusion about your life, about your future. You reasoned that it wasn’t worth all the hassle, all the blood, sweat and tears. It wasn’t worth anything. So…why bother? Why bother living it, only to be thrashed around, ripped to shreds and then eventually killed, anyway? You adored nothing of yourself. You adored nothing of anyone. Without a meaning to your life, weren't you simply a husk? A broken shell of a once-pure, youthful girl?

"You?" His voice was quivering, as if he was infinitely opposed to your proposition.

A single, solemn nod confirmed his query.

"But…" He managed, trying to find a different solution. "…aren’t you the executioner? And…why does it have to be you? Can't we find someo-"

"It should be me." You cut him off, desperate to put this behind you. "I am not the only executioner. The other one…I have no doubt he will assist us, voluntarily."

All his dreadful emotions clogged his throat. The words wouldn’t exit seamlessly. "Why you? Tell me why…"

Your sigh was drawn-out, heavier than all the previous ones. "I can bear this world no longer, Takami. This job…even this house…everything is a cage, a prison. I cannot continue to live this way. I need you to understand, and respect my decision."

If not for the dire circumstances, a blush would have exploded on his face; you referred to him by name. Though…he couldn’t fathom the idea of you being separated so soon after meeting. For years, he had watched you, silently admiring all your adorable little quirks. All the features you despised, he loved with the passion of a thousand suns. To him, you weren't any less than human…no, in fact, you were a goddess, sent from the Heavens to bewitch him, to make him swoon, all while erecting an ignorant façade. He spent hours upon hours, mostly during nighttide, wondering, praying, that you had taken note of his presence…that you saw him, as you glided around the castle. He wished so desperately to be your swain, but despite being little more than a peasant boy himself, he still held the higher title. He knew of your job, but he witnessed your anguish. He observed the unrelenting tears that dripped down your face. He knew you were hurting.

Was he honestly now granting assent to your death?

"Keigo." He suddenly made a grab for your hands, feeling them callous and trembling slightly. "My name…it's Keigo."

You nodded, plunging into uncertain waters. "Keigo…"

"Please call me that, every time you address me, from now until…" His head fell; was this really happening?

Was he truly unable to stop you? Unable to change your mind? Even as this thought rocketed around his brain, he knew the truth. He couldn’t ever hope to stop you. It was clear - your decision was final.

He waited until you nodded again. "We should probably go now."

No response came, but none was necessary. The two of you ran, bounding towards the castle, side-by-side. You were determined - Keigo and his father would live. In this cold, cruel world, they would flourish…they would become something. And you would watch this, his adventure…from another plane. Perhaps it was Hell, perhaps Heaven, perhaps neither. Either way, you wouldn’t let this be the end. If you had the chance to keep walking by his side, even in death, then you would welcome it with open arms. You wouldn’t shy away from it, from providing him with security - you could ward off all the negative energy, all the malign spirits, threatening to cause him harm. You would be there.

Even in death.

The courtyard approached. Tugging on his sleeve, you directed him to a large, metal door, complete with padlocks and some ominous-looking scratch marks. So far, nobody seemed to have paid you any mind. You thrust the key into the lock, hoping that the sound of metal against metal wouldn’t attract too much unwanted attention. Keigo was fixated on the patrolling guards, who were thankfully more interested in showing off their swords to the noblewomen. You slipped inside, unnoticed. Awaiting you was Keigo's father, alongside a few others, mostly unconscious. From severe beatings, you presumed.

"(Y/n)! What is he doing here?"

You shushed him. "Shinya…I need to call in a favour."

"I have a bad feeling about this." He pointed to the two males, now attempting to comfort each other. "Does it involve them?"

He managed to unlock the shackles, so easily?

"Yes. You must listen to me - I am begging you."

He was hesitant, but replied, "Alright. What do you need?"

"I need you to execute the criminal in my steed. This, I cannot do." You answered, pouring your heart into the words.

"The criminal…" He paused. "…You are not speaking of Takami, are you?"

You shook your head. "I am afraid not."

"Then…" He sighed, as the truth dawned. "…You are speaking of yourself."

"Indeed."

A glint of sorrow lingered in his eyes. "Are you certain? You cannot recover from death."

"I am certain, beyond question." There was no hesitance in your voice, no doubt…not even a hint of anxiety.

You sounded free. At long last, you sounded free. Finally, you could dictate which path you took, and when it all ended. To object your wish now…Shinya couldn’t imagine the guilt. Forcing his heart to agree was no uncomplicated task, and he wasn’t likely to cease grieving for many moons, but…he couldn’t deny you. He couldn’t strip you of what little serenity you were able to feel, in this moment. He was already dressed in his executioner's garb, anyway. Nobody would recognise him…not until everything was over. The head probably wouldn’t be checked, either. Not for a while. By that time, Keigo and his father should be liberated, freed from the clutches of the evil King Enji Todoroki. Hopefully, they could settle within the boundaries of land of King Toshinori Yagi, or All Might, as most affectionately named him.

That loathsome, ebony robe slipped from your body, and Shinya presented you with some smaller, dirtier clothes. You didn’t mind. In fact, you relished in it. Finally, finally...something was happening on your terms. You would die, on your terms, not by the instruction of the King. And…even though it signalled the end, the extinguishing of your life…you couldn’t have been happier, in that moment.

"(Y/n)…" Your young accomplice whispered, half-adoring, half-fearful. "…Do you really intend to do this? Isn't there anything I can say, to stop you?"

What sort of…no, that would be giving himself false hope. Your intentions were crystal-clear. He couldn’t sway you. Before a single word fell from your lips, he took a chance, he grasped at straws. He did something for which he had waited a lifetime…something that ignited a passionate flame within both your hearts.

He kissed you.

Time, obligations, fate…everything ceased to exist. Your lips danced together, like they were created for that exact purpose. It felt natural…It felt right. When you parted, gazes burning into one another, everything clicked into place.

"I will always be with you, Keigo. I swear, not even death will do us part." The words you uttered…they weren't scripted, weren't rehearsed, but…maybe they had forever nestled on your tongue.

Maybe it was something I always longed to say?

A sad, little smile perched on his lips. "I know, and I will always look for you. I will see you in everyone…in everything. I will be yours, until the very end."

"I wish you would live…I wish you would marry." Your whispers caressed his ears, and he shivered.

"But you know I won't."

How things progressed so far, you knew not. A loud bell-toll, a harbinger of death, echoed across the castle. This was the end. You captured his lips again, swiftly, and then you pushed him away. He couldn’t be allowed to witness such a tragedy. He looked about to cry, about to compromise this entire plan. You placed a finger in front of your mouth, as a reminder. You wanted this. You had always wanted this. Shinya donned the mask, but you saw his strife, the melancholy swimming in his eyes. You smiled. You smiled at Shinya, at Keigo and his father, and at the glaring sun, as you were led out, into the courtyard. The mask obscured your vision, but it would have been difficult not to realise how brightly the sun was shining.

I am certain that it will shine brightest when the axe is at my neck.

In spite of the agonising loss, the newfound frigidity of his heart, Keigo ran, his father in tow. Nothing would tempt him to glance back. Nothing could. Your promise, your wish for him…all except the marriage, he would honour. To be caught now, imprisoned, killed…your bodies would never again find comfort in each other, for there was a separate, less well-kept burial space for people of the Burakumin. If he was captured, he wouldn’t be buried with you. And your spirit might wander eternally, never finding him, never achieving peace.

So, he continued to run, tears cascading from his eyes. It seemed merely a second, but the reality was hazy. He was panicking now, whispering, then screaming at the top of his lungs. He knew it was idiotic, he knew it was a death sentence, but he was lost...so, hopelessly lost.

"Father! Father, where are you? Answer me, please!"

That wasn’t the man with whom his body collided. His tears were incessant, stinging.

This…this was a Royal Guard.

In an instant, he shattered all your hopes…all your dreams. A crow, no…perhaps three crows, flew close, carried by the gentle wind. Keigo collapsed, exhaustion, shock and unadulterated grief stabbing at his heart. Your head had just rolled…hadn’t it?

[Word Count: 4128]

[darlinrogue]

matthew found himself getting anxious at every all elite pay-per-view. but something about this specific revolution—— this specific main event had him more worried than usual ‘exploding barbed-wire death match’… it had problems written all over it. biting nail after nail, cuticle after cuticle. “since pac’s going after the tag titles, adam’s next in line for kenny” he heard tony khan say from the headset in guerilla. matt’s heart stopped, right then and there. he had to find adam.

Matt

A few hours before the show Adam had scoped out his vantage point. A seat in the back on the ground floor at Daily’s Place. High-up, but not too far away. Even better it was an empty section. After his match with Hardy, Adam changed into street clothes, crept-out from backstage, and took his seat. While the street fight with Darby and Sting played on the big screen, the ring crew set-up for the so called, “Exploding Barbed Wire Death Match.” The crew wore thick leather gloves. They maneuvered pieces of hardware, metal, and explosives to the floor. Bryce looked like the marshmallow man from Ghostbusters. It was, without a doubt, the most elaborate, inane match idea Adam had ever seen. He never delved into that Death match shit. An occasional no DQ with chairs and table settled Adam’s need for violence, but this was next level. 

And it was the exact kinda bullshit that Kenny would come up with. 

The construction of a wrestling ring had always fascinated Adam. In his teenage years he shadowed production crews to shows. From them he learned how to square a ring by measuring the diagonal, how to lay down the boards, roll out the pads, and lash down the mats. Then, tightening the ropes and tying in the turnbuckles. For the cheaper productions, duct tape repaired holes torn in the apron. All the little things he didn’t have to do anymore now that he was a ‘star.’ Part of Adam missed the days on the indies when he’d show-up a day early for set-up and leave late for tear down. Get to watch a show for free that way. Somehow, watching the AEW ring crew bind explosive barbed wire around the ropes didn’t make Adam feel very nostalgic, though. Instead something cold settled in the bottom of his stomach. 

Adam had brought a beer out with him and he brought the bottle to his lips. He watched the pyro tech guys rig-up the explosives with lines of electric wire. The ring crew were filtering out. The fight on the screen was winding down. Adam glanced over though as someone approached on his right. Wedging himself between the seats and coming down the row was Matt Jackson. He’d changed back into a gray, AEW jacket, his hair twisted into a quick and dirty bun. All he had for Adam was a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets and his throat bobbed, not meeting Adam’s gaze. Instead he focused on the dust laden concrete beneath his feet. Adam shifted in his seat, coming forward, elbows pressed into the arm rest. Matt chewed on his lip and then gestured at Adam’s hand. 

“You okay?” He asked, thinly. “Matt worked you over good.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” Adam said. “Just sore.”

He looked down at his hand. An athletic trainer had wrapped it in bandages and popped him a couple ibuprofen. There was nothing broken, just some bruising and swelling. Adam’d have to get an X-ray sooner rather than later, though. After the match high ran down though it hurt like a mother. Matt and Adam stared at each other for a second, before Adam tilted his head to the side. An indication and invitation for Matt to sit. Matt sunk into the chair beside Adam, hands rubbing over his knees. His fingers pattered over his thighs and he shifted, exuding nervous energy. When he settled back into the chair it was like he was sitting back into the barbed wire in the ring.

“Congratulations, on beating the carny though,” Matt offered with a small laugh. “You guys had a good match. What are you going to do with the money?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, well I was thinking,” Adam began, he put his beer on the floor by his feet and leaned back. “I need a new lawnmower and there’s enough to pay off the mortgage— I don’t need much else so like, I told them to just, just to give the rest to some cause. Someone mentioned the public schools in Jacksonville? I liked that, so that’s kinda what we went with.”

“Seriously?” Matt breathed. “That’s amazing, Adam.”

“Fuck, I don’t want that money anyway, makes me feel dirty,” Adam admitted. He sucked on his cheek. “Chris and MJF didn’t beat you up too much did they? Ya’ll pulled it out, but it was kinda brutal to watch.”

“Oh, so you watched our match?” Matt noted. They looked at each other and something warm sparked in Adam’s chest. “Takes more than a baseball bat to keep me down. Besides that’s nothing compared to— to all this.”

Matt’s voice rasped as he flicked his finger towards the completed ring. Adam followed his gaze and got what he meant. It wasn’t the barbed wire or the explosives. It was the anticipation of seeing Kenny in the middle of that ring. Kenny, bloodied and burned and hurting, with his life on the line. There was a long, long list of shit that could go wrong. And Adam and Matt shared in common a worry wort gene. It was in their nature to look at a set-up like that, then let their minds run to all the terrifying possibilities. It was the inner instinct of ‘older brother’ in them. The shit going on Matt’s mind had already crossed Adam’s a half-dozen times. 

Injury, pain, and even death, were the risks of their sport, everyone who stepped in the ring had comes to terms with their mortality.  It wasn’t often though that Adam sat down for a match and was fully level with the idea that one of his oldest friends may actually die. It was a ‘holy shit’ moment, this was how far they’d come. Well over a year ago Adam remembered the way Kenny’s voice cracked over the phone when he talked about Mox. The desperate, twisted edge in his tone, jagged as broken glass. It was obsession rolled with a fragile mental health teetering over the abyss of fear, anxiety, and depression. All Adam had done was stand back and watch as Kenny was crowded to the cliff. Then, Adam witnessed the merciless hand shove Kenny over. And now, at the bottom, body and mind broken over the rocks, Kenny challenged Mox to an Exploding Barbed Wire Death Match. The entire Elite had hit rockbottom in the past six months at least once but none of them had involved explosives. 

“Kenny’s gone off the fucking deep end, man” Adam observed, like he was commenting on the weather. He picked-up his beer from the floor and took a sip. “This is batshit. You let him do this?”

“It’s not like he asked us?!” Matt protested, his hands fluttered around him. “TK approved it and you know, it’s his show. Besides, it’s not exactly like Kenny is talking to us right now.” 

Adam shifted in his seat. He and Kenny hadn’t been on speaking terms since October. A long run of almost six months as they awkwardly avoided each other in the hallways. Of course, Adam had his handful of ignored, attempted phone calls and double texts from back when the tag-team broke-up. He’d kept abreast of the Elite’s crazy drama and then felt quietly grateful he wasn’t apart of it. Forsaken doors, Barbed Wire Death Matches; literally everything to do with Don Callis, Impact, and the Good Brothers— no thanks. Adam got why he was out of the loop, though. Kenny getting sick of his shit and kicking him out of his life was inevitable as it was deserved— But, Kenny wasn’t talking to the Bucks either? That was a red flag. Shit, Adam shouldn’t be worried about Kenny, grown ass man that he was but—Adam took another sip from his beer and returned it to its spot by his feet. Yeah, he was kinda worried about Kenny.

“Why are you even out here?” Matt asked, an edge of accusation in his voice. 

“Shit, I dunno, figured if my old tag-partner was gonna get blown-up I should at least be here to witness it?” Adam speculated, with a shrug. The buzzing crowd indicated the end of the Street Fight that Adam had been ignoring. Whispers of anticipation floated through the arena. “Maybe— I just got some shit on my mind. Trying to figure out what comes next.” 

“You’re in the rankings,” Matt blurted-out. Adam glanced at Matt and met his eyes. His face was stricken in the stark lights and his throat bobbed. Music hit, Mox’s theme, moments before Adam could even think up an answer. 

Mox wasn’t a bullet point on Adam’s list of relations. He was just a guy he occasionally saw backstage or in production meetings. They’d been in a ring once before. Adam kinda saw him as this hardened badass with a devil may care attitude. A weird, enigmatic guy with a prickly attitude and a hardened reputation. The flash of a silver flask, drawn from Mox’s inner jacket pocket, spoke to Adam though in a way few else in the arena would get. He understood the motivation behind the deep drink Mox indulged. If a guy like Jon Moxley needed alcohol to steady his nerves, then shit, it was really that bad. Kenny’s entrance then, was a nail in the coffin. He dressed subdued, in jeans and a shirt instead of elaborate gear. No bullshit spiel from Justin Roberts, just his music, and the belt. Adam worked his jaw and took some solace from his own beverage. Besides him, Matt shifted and squirmed, his thumb at his mouth gnawing on his already bitten down nail.

Before Ring of Honor shipped him off to Japan, Adam was never into Japanese wrestling. His library of matches included the DVR recordings of WWF matches, the local shit you could get on the TV, and eventually, the various indie shows across the South-East he attended. It was all catch wrestling, some technical shit, and whatever the Hardys were doing. Death matches, likewise, were a joke in the schools and shows he attended. “How many commas?” Was the refrain for what it’d take to get an average wrestler to do something as stupid as involve barbed wire in a match. Therefore, a Japanese, Exploding, Barbed Wire, Death Match, was completely out of Adam’s wheel house. He had no idea what to expect. What he got when the bell rang was totally outside of the realm of his imagination. 

It was the little shit: Kenny was dead serious, Mox made the sign of the cross, and the methodical, slow pace they set.  It was all physical strength as they jostled, tied-up with each other, all too aware of the limitations of the ring. After a year as his tag-partner, Adam was familiar with Kenny’s style. His explosive speed, how he worked the ropes, and his overwhelming energy. This was a different Kenny, almost uncomfortable in the confines of his cage. Close calls, pushing, prodding, biting each other, trying to force the other into barbed wire they treated with the respect it deserved it. Mox beat Kenny with every instrument available and Adam knew the way Kenny writhed was genuine. When Kenny sent Mox into the far ropes and a flash of fire sent billows of smoke into the arena, Matt gripped Adam’s hand like it was an instinctive reflex. He squeezed, hard, pressing his fingers around Adam’s palm. Pain shot-up Adam’s arm like a bolt of lightning. Adam hissed and reached over to pry Matt off his injured hand. 

“Jesus, Matt,” Adam hissed. 

Matt murmured apologies and yet his grip just switched to Adam’s wrist instead, which wasn’t much better because Adam’s whole arm was sore. Since apparently Matt needed to cling to something, Adam hooked his whole right arm around Matt’s shoulders. Then reached his left hand over to grip Matt’s hand. It was awkward and the armrest dug into Adam’s ribs but Matt rested his head in the crook of Adam’s shoulder, so it worked. Their fingers interlaced and Adam could only imagine how fucking goofy they looked. If the cameras happened to pick them up in the crowd they would never live it down. At least, Kenny had his footing in the match, he was in control, working over Mox, looking for that pin— Adam wasn’t sure if he was rooting for Kenny or not. Or, if he just kinda wanted this to be over because it was evidently mentally ripping Matt to shreds. 

Wanted this to be over, the belt out of Kenny’s hands, and somewhere else, where it couldn’t be between them anymore. 

Blood and smoke, broken hardware, torn skin. Kenny in the ropes, blinded by the dust, begging for water for his burned eyes. Matt’s breath, high in his throat, turning his face into Adam’s shoulder. And Adam just watched. He watched and forgot about the beer warming to room temperature by his side. A pressure built in his jaw, and yet, he couldn’t look away. No clear thoughts surfaced, nothing solid, or real. Just ideas, images, tangled together with the scene before him like the barbed wire wrapped around Mox’s arm. He didn’t allow himself to settle. Didn’t allow himself to latch onto anything, just let it all drift, staying in the moment of the violence, pain, and brutality of two men literally trying to kill each other. The sight of Kenny’s blood, red, crimson, staining his white shirt, and marring his pale skin burned Adam’s vision.

He thought back to Full Gear. The way he could tell Kenny was in his head. Always a half-step ahead. And that whole match Adam was working his ass off just to keep-up. Trying to wiggle his way into opening, taking advantage of every opportunity like a life line. He’d watched that match back a hundred times and he could every single one of his mistakes. He found a new error to fixate on each time he hit the replay button. The truth was that physically, Kenny had no significant advantage over Adam. In fact, Adam knew he had all the benefits of superior strength, better cardio, and youth. In skill, there was nothing dividing them— After that tag-team run, Adam knew he could hang with Omega. What kept Adam back, what left him behind, in the shadow of Kenny was himself. His own tangled thoughts and anxieties, burning a hole in his heart. He had stared-up the lights, like a crashed angel, and kinda accepted that final pin.

Like, he just gave-up, after bearing the burden of a year from hell. Let it all roll off his shoulders. Atlas shrugged, and the world shattered. And in the midst of broken glass, he had rebuilt. With no end goal in mind. Just, kinda up, kinda forward, one step at a time, gazed fixated on his toes so he didn’t slip in his own blood, and not ahead, and now he was looking at the ring. Accepting the smoke and blood and tears and sweat, the desperate men swinging punch-drunk as the ten minute warning sounded. It was an observation, he could note it, and let the moment past. Adam was in the rankings, number three last Tuesday, maybe higher next Tuesday. It didn’t mean anything, it didn’t have to mean anything. 

Didn’t have to do anything but just sit here and hold Matt. 

When the Good Brothers rushed out to the ring Matt sighed and laughed, but it was high-pitched, shaking his head. Adam watched Mox go through the chair in a One Winged Angel but all Matt was muttering was that he ‘couldn’t take this anymore.’ He didn’t want to see the ending, but he did hear the three count, and Adam admitted that his masochist desire had puttered out. So, he pushed Matt to his feet and they slid through the rows to escape the arena. Outside, fresh air, cool and tinged with the taste of the metallic city, brushed against Adam’s heated face.  Matt walked to the curb outside Daily’s place and collapsed. He sat there, breathing hard and fast, head between his knees, some, strangled, broken noise erupting from his throat. Adam shoved his hands in his jean pockets and sat down next to him. A lot of noises erupted from the arena behind them but the sounds muddled with the traffic, sirens, people, nothing distinct.

“Hey,” Adam whispered, reaching for Matt’s shoulder. He placed his hand in the crook of Matt’s neck and gathered him closer to his side. Matt was still hyperventilating and so Adam ordered firmly, but not unkindly, “dude, slow down. Take a deep breath. It’s okay, it’s over.”

Matt’s entire body trembled and Adam had half a mind to break six months of radio silence by calling Nick to tell him to come get his brother. Instead, Matt collapsed against Adam, burying his face in his chest as for the first time in probably an hour, he breathed. Every tensed muscle unraveled beneath Adam’s hand as all the fight left Matt. Tears tracked trails of dust down Matt’s cheeks and Adam hummed, low in his throat. It was something content, a pleased purr. He always liked feeling useful, needed, relied upon, and to have Matt physically leaning on him like this— felt good. It felt right. He’d been dropping the Bucks and Kenny, fumbling like an idiot, for a while now. Maybe now, when he felt a little stronger, a little more firm, he could hold them right. 

Maybe— 

Maybe, and the thought trailed off without conclusion. 

“I hate this, why can’t it just be over,” Matt gasped into Adam’s shirt. “Why can’t we— why can’t we just, just be friends again?! We should never have left Japan. This shit wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t made this damn company. AEW was supposed to be fun, and all it did was just—just tear us apart.”

Against Adam’s thigh, Matt fisted his hand, nails biting into his palm. Adam placed his chin on top of Matt’s head. He didn’t respond to his question because he didn’t have an answer. No response that was adequate. Just a recap of all their broken dreams and failures. Matt knew the story. He didn’t need Adam to try to fix this. Adam couldn’t fix this but he could be here. He could do that. 

“I want things back to how they were,” Matt admitted, and his voice was softer, but hitched with a sob. 

“I don’t,” Adam said. 

Matt stiffened under Adam’s arm. And Adam had a feeling the thoughts that came to his mind weren’t the most gentle thing to say to Matt as he spiraled off a panic attack— but they were maybe the things Matt needed to hear. 

“I hated being in the EVP room,” Adam continued, and his voice shook. “I hated living in your shadows. I hated watching you guys go out with Kenny and be in his corner, while I always had my matches alone. I hated— I hated being the weak link. I hated never feeling like I belonged. Like, I never deserved to be your friend.”

“Hangman—” Matt pulled back to look at Adam, his eyes wet with tears. 

“No, no, Matt listen,” Adam insisted. He hooked his hand around the back of Matt’s neck. “This shit, would’ve happened in Japan, or NXT, or Ring of Honor, no matter where we went. Because wherever you go, there you are, and we carried our baggage here.”

“I just had no idea we made you so miserable,” Matt confessed. “That we made you—”

“Dude, I made myself miserable,” Adam laughed, interrupting him. “All up in my head and shit, and I’m done with that. I’m done with the bullshit and the drama. Maybe, I’m not the best, but I just wanna—I wanna focus on, I don’t know, having fun? Doing what I can. Forget about the stupid title.”

“So, you’re not going to challenge Kenny?” Matt asked. He reached for Adam’s face, pressed his palm to Adam’s cheek. Adam shivered under his touch, tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted. He ducked his head but Matt smoothed his thumb over Adam’s cheekbone and forced him to look up again. Forced him to meet Matt’s dark eyes, and Adam had no choice but to think, Holy shit, I love him. So, he whispered and confided, “I don’t know if I can.”

“I think you can,” Matt said. He inched closer so they were thigh-to-thigh, he tilted Adam’s face down to knock their foreheads together. Adam could hear the smile on his lips. “Someone has to knock some sense into Kenny. I don’t want to see my best friends fight but—”

“Matt,” Adam sighed. His hand reached across to Matt’s opposite hip. 

“What?” Matt asked. Adam nuzzled his nose into his cheek. “Adam?”

“Nothing,” Adam smiled. 

And he couldn’t help but to wonder why Matt believed in him when no one else did. What he saw that he recognized as potential. Matt’s patience as Adam strayed and wandered— that the frustration, read more as worry now than anger. And it was Adam that Matt sought out tonight. And Matt wasn’t shoving him away as he leaned in, the ghost of his breath on Matt’s bottom lip. Then, Matt’s phone rang and he was cussing, digging into his pockets. He checked the collar ID, noted it was Nick and murmured bashful excuses to Adam before answering. Adam leaned back on his hands, scratching his boot heels against the pavement. 

“Hey, man,” Matt intoned, a hand running through his hair. HIs voice was still raw and he swallowed hard, putting on a mask of cool, stoicism for his little brother. “What’s up?”

Adam heard the low rumble of Nick’s voice on the other side. Chewing out Matt for vanishing during production. TK needed them ASAP, and Matt was nodding, promising he’d show-up soon. He just needed some time to get some fresh air. 

“Is everyone okay?” Matt asked, and Adam leaned forward to hear the response.

“Yeah, everyone’s okay, Kenny, Mox, and fucking, Eddie? He ran out there right before the bomb went off, the idiot,” Nick grumbled. “But it was a fucking dud. It didn’t go off at all— the fans actually boo’ed, I can’t tell if TK is furious or relieved. I mean, Kenny made it so I don’t know what we expected—”

Adam choked on a laugh, leaning his elbows on his knees. His entire shoulders shook as cackles broke out of his chest and he covered his mouth to hide the noise. Adam barely registered Nick asking Matt who he was with before Matt hung-up the phone. Matt shook his head and then he was laughing too, breaking the tide of all the bundled, nervous fear that had held them. Adam knew in his head there was way more shit to work out between them. That they weren’t out of the woods yet and his heart was too tender, too fragile, to take another break but— it felt better. 

In some ways, it almost felt good, and ‘almost good’ is a state Adam hadn’t been in for a long time. 

“You should uh, go do your job,” Adam suggested. 

Matt pushed to his feet and Adam stood too. He felt that awkwardness, the unacknowledged weirdness of almost making out with your not-best-friend, or the fact that they’re supposed to hate each other right now. All the crap that was still between them, all the land mines of conversations not yet triggered. Maybe, they were untangling the barbed wire. Closing the distance inch-by-inch, and it was magnetic, almost inevitable— but Adam wasn’t sure if he was ready to stand beside Matt. Maybe because he was afraid of being hurt again. Maybe because he was dead terrified of the air in the EVP room when he was swallowing all his words. Maybe, because he had always walked behind, and never beside.

He asked Matt, last year, for a little more time, and apparently, he still needed a little more yet.

“Yeah, uh, talk to you later, I guess,” Matt managed. When he breathed there was a shutter, the residuals of his panic attack. Adam figured if he was with his brother, he’d be fine. Nick would take care of him. Adam worried about a lot things but he never worried about the Bucks because they always had each other. 

“Yeah,” Adam nodded. “See ya.”

Matt turned back to the arena first. Adam stood there, watching him walking away and refusing to let his thoughts roll over it. 

It is what it is.