#its weird i felt like she used to be the easiest for me to draw

[skitskatdacat63]

Portrait of wifey <3

[p4lparker]

The Proposal

After you’d made the decision, you needed to think of how to actually ask the boys. Now that was the only thought you had rattling around your brain as the three of you travelled to the bar- the shipment was coming in midday, so if you wanted to swipe a keg for the kick back that evening you’d need to do it soon. John B was steering the Twinkie along the roads smoothly- you held the passenger seat and JJ was star-fished in the back, the sun beating through the windshield and hammering down on your skin. Sunglasses rested over your eyes as you watched the young Routledge manoeuvre the vehicle; one of his large hands and dextrous fingers wrapped loosely around the wheel, the other one resting on his lap, tapping out the rhythm of the song playing from the speakers. Lips mouthing along with the words- wild and salted hair flopping away from his face, eyes narrowed as they concentrated on the roads ahead. Freckles more prominent from their constant exposure to the bright sun, bandanna ever present and tied around his neck loosely. You knew that staring at him like this was weird, but you couldn’t help yourself- he truly was gorgeous. As if feeling your intense gaze; he turned his face towards you, eyes questioning but lips smiling all the same. You returned the smile weakly, thankful for the car seat beneath you- your knees would have surely buckled otherwise.

Shaking your head- jeeze, if you couldn’t deal with a smile from John B how could you ask him or even try to convince him to have sex with you; it was a good job there was a kegger tonight, maybe the liquid courage would help you. The twinkie pulled up a short distance from the back of the bar; delivery truck parked there also. You looked to the mission leader; who slapped JJ’s knee alerting him he was needed, before turning back to you and tilting his head- a charming smile in place, as JJ’s head bobbed in between the seats close enough for you to smell the weed clinging to his breath.

“So… what’s the plan here?” John B asked, eyes glancing between you and JJ- you bit your lip and tried to think of a plan of action, JJ tapped a finger to his lip and John B rolled his eyes at the pair of you. “So we don’t even have half a plan and we need to grab a keg asap… awesome..” he muttered tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel in contemplation- he turned and grinned at you, eyeing your clothing and then putting on the puppy eyes and pout.

“Oh no… what did you have in mind John B? I feel like I’m not going to enjoy this….” You whined, following his eyes to the jean shorts sitting at your hips and the bikini top covering you- JJ tuned his head and copied the pair of you before laughing and holding his hand to John B to high five. You rolled your eyes and cringed as the brunette patted your shoulder.

“Use your womanly wiles Y/N… Distract him and me and J will steal the keg, when its in the bus just bail and that’s it..” John B stated, as if it was the easiest thing in the world- you could feel our head shaking mouth open like a fish, not entirely sure you had any womanly wiles. You turned to JJ who smirked and winked at you and pointed to the delivery truck in front of you all. You sighed and ran a hand through your salted hair. John B could sense your reservations and began fluttering his eyes at you; clasping his hands under his chin and puckering his lips into a pout- JJ copied his actions and you crumbled, they had to know how cute they both looked right now, and you hated to admit it even to yourself- but it was like kryptonite. You nodded shakily and breathed out in a slow puff of air before reaching for the door and leaving the safety of the bus- before trudging to you ultimate humiliation. This was a trick you’d seen Kie pull a hundred times over, but you were 99% sure you’d fail miserably and let your boys down. With one more look over your shoulder, you could see them grin and give you encouraging thumbs up, you rolled your eyes and continued to the truck- when you were within hearing distance you let out a small cough to cover the boys getting out of the bus. At the sound of your approach the delivery driver turned to you, you pasted a small smile on your face.

“Hey.. Sorry to interrupt and all, but I was just uhh wondering if you’d help me?” you asked, nervously ruffling up your hair, walking backwards from the truck slightly- your eyes widened as the driver eyed you up and down not so subtly- a predatory grin slipping onto his features. You could see JJ waving you off from behind the driver- barely nodding your head, you stood a little straighter when the guys eyes devoured you, you stepped away from the truck- internally freaking out. You wandered closer to the edge of the road lined with trees, eyes glancing all around you trying to think of an excuse- eyes focusing on a poster on a phone pole a few feet away. You stopped and turned to see the guy behind you- he moved his eyes to yours quickly, having been enjoying the view. You tried not to gag and looked over his shoulder to see the boys creeping up to the truck.

“It’s really not a problem, what can I help you with?” he asked, smiling in a way he thought was charming- but he had nothing on JJ or John B; the way those boys smiled should be against the law. You chuckled nervously.

“I was just wondering if you’d seen a dog run past? I was trying to get him back into my car and he bolted.. guess he saw something more interesting..” You stated- trying to think of how Kie plays this normally, lifting one hand to awkwardly twist in you loose hair, and pouting slightly. The man stepped closer to you, you had to stop putting more space between you when he did.

“I’ve tried calling for him and everything… I’m just super worried about him, he’s only a puppy…” You stated, grasping at straws as you tried to keep the drivers attention. The man agreed quickly, and he began scanning the trees nearby. You smiled gratefully when he looked up to you, he continued to scan- you looked behind him and gestured wildly to JJ and John B; they were trying to get a keg from the back of the truck without alerting the driver, JJ shook his head and waved his hand at you- motioning for you to carry on.

“So what does your dog look like? What’s his name and everything? The more information I have the more I can help the damsel in distress…” the man mentioned, smiling in thatway again, you could feel your skin crawl as his eyes focused on your chest once more.

“Umm Buddy? He’s a um Golden retriever, big eyes, cute as hell but not too bright…” You stated eyes flickering to JJ and John B behind the driver- they were almost done just about to close the doors to the bus. You panicked as the driver began to turn, so you quickly placed you hand on his chest- grabbing his attention again.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” You asked quickly, biting your bottom lip- drawing his gaze there. It was as you heard the boys pull up beside you, you sighed out a breath and let your hand drop as soon as JJ slid the side door open for you. Taking a few steps backwards to the bus, you began your retreat and the driver looked more than upset as he spotted one of the kegs in the back with JJ. Your eyes widened and you waved for John B to start driving and you’d catch up. As you jogged backwards trying to ward the man off as John B picked up speed, JJ holding an arm out the side for you to grab when ready.

“You know what… I totally forgot I don’t even have a dog… !” You yelled out as you caught hold of JJ’s hand and he dragged you- poking your head out the door, you waved and blew the driver a kiss as you yelled out “Thanks again!” JJ and John B whooped and laughed loudly- JJ slamming the door shut as you collapsed on the floor, hands covering your face as you felt the waves of humiliation wash over you.

“That was amazing!” John B laughed out beeping the horn and blasting the tunes as the three of you peeled away from the crime scene.

“I don’t even have a dog… !” JJ mimicked you laughing until your stomach hurt. You shook your head and grabbed the Juul from his pocket breathing in the relaxant and waiting for the redness to leave your face.

“I don’t know how Kie does that all the time… It was so awkward and creepy!” You whined hiding your face in your hands again as JJ poked teasingly at your reddened cheek.

“Nahh Y/N, you did good.. Kie can take a break from distraction duties from now on!” John B called out turning his grinning face to you momentarily before focusing back on the road. As you pulled into John B’s drive, you spotted Kie and Pope sitting on the porch waiting for you al to get back. The five of you talked and laughed as you took the keg and other essentials down to the boneyard- you regaled each other with tales from the day; John B and JJ taking great pride in retelling how you distracted the driver for them to steal the very keg they were carrying, as they did they made the whole situation sound better than it really was. You rolled your eyes as Kie wrapped her arm around your neck and repeated John B’s words from earlier.

The kegger was in full swing- red solo cups filled to the brim with contraband beer or some other alcohol. A bonfire in the middle- keg a little ways off being manned by JJ and John B. You gulped some of the sweet drink Kie had procured for you both from some kook or another. You looked around you again as she dragged you more to wards the bonfire- which seemed to be where everyone was dancing and mingling; JJ and John B filling up cups of tourons and flirting with them shamelessly- the tourons blushing madly and giggling. Pope was a little ways off sitting on some drift wood- talking to a girl, who actually looked interested as he chatted to her, you had no doubts he was talking about pathology again. Kie grabbed your and pulled you towards her and began dancing with you to- you watched the groups of girls and boys grinding on eachother- laughing when Kie mimicked them; throwing it back on you as you danced along. You felt hands on your waist tugging you back into a sweaty chest- Kie stopped dancing and stood abruptly as you were dragged away from her. She settled back to dancing against you as you hips were swayed between her and the person behind you- looking down you saw an adornment of rigs glistening on familiar fingers in the fire light. JJ pulled Kie closer to and in turn you closer to him. Th group danced some more, Pope and John B joining in- each pulling you and Kie into spins and dips- Kie and Pope doing the foot dance form TikTok while JJ pulled you back to him again one arm around your waist, his other hand holding a Juul to your lips for you to toke on. John B danced in front of you, his face low in line with your chest as you shimmied in front of him, his head following- you gripped his chin, pulling him up to full height before trying to push his face away as you blew out the smoke- he laughed and inhaled what he could before stealing it from JJ’s hand and taking a hit himself. JJ tried to protest- but ultimately cheered as John B placed it back between your lips, you in turn took a hit and then passed it back to JJ.

Kie suddenly came spinning back to you, pulling on your hand so you were back to back with her and the pair of you shimmied and swayed your hips together; Pope hyped you both cheering and doing some fancy footwork around you both, JJ and John B whooped joyfully as you all had a blast. You could feel the weed and alcohol giving you a real buzz- you swayed whether you were dancing or not, and gestured to the group to sit down, they followed you in a konga line all the while laughing until you all collapsed on the driftwood seating. You rested your head on Kie’s shoulder and sipped on your drinks- which you’d been refilling and probably had, had too much of already- watching as the boys settled around you both; Pope settling in front of you, shoulders between your legs and head resting on you, JJ across from you trying to blow smoke rings and John B sitting beside you- resting an arm around your waist and nestling closer to you. You all laughed and joked, just enjoying eachothers company with no touron or kook action- and you felt content, this was your happy bubble; booze, weed, your best girl and your best boys. You rubbed one hand in Pope’s hair as Kie leaned in and placed a kiss on your cheek. JJ howled joking about girl-on-girl action, Kie rolled her eyes, flipping him the bird and then gripping your chin and pulling your lips to hers- kissing you gently. When she pulled back you both laughed at the shocked expressions Pope, JJ and John B were all wearing.

“Holy shit…” Pope exclaimed before putting his face in his hands. Kie laughed more raucously- she was always a happy and affectionate drunk, you never really knew what she would do next. You looked over to JJ who was smirking at you, eyes sparkling in the low light- your cheeks heating up as he watched you.

“Huh..” John B murmured, hand squeezing your waist. “On that note.. Best kiss go… !” he said pointing to Kie who giggled.

“Y/N obviously..” she laughed before moving onto wistfully talking about how every kiss was the best one- as each moment was special. Pope told you all about a touron from last summer; who stayed for a few weeks and the pair hung out ‘casually’, his eyes lingering on Kie as he spoke- not that she noticed or would remember tomorrow even if she had.

“Scarlet Masters…” JJ stated, puffing his chest and grinning like the devil. The group of you stared at him and waited for him to elaborate- his grin widened. “Couple of weeks ago, mowed her lawn- guess she wanted to see if it was true what they say about us dirty pogues…” JJ bragged cockily, leaning back and taking a toke on his Juul. John B, Kie and Pope all cheered. You just laughed rolling your eyes. John B went on to say it was, like Pope, a touron from a couple summers passed. The group turned to you- and you fried to focus. Your mind racing through memories; not that you macked on a bunch of people, but you’d had your fair share of macking- but you drew a blank, not being able to pick out one particular kiss that made you want to reminisce. So that’s what you told them; Kie looked heart broken- you thought tears would appear in her eyes soon, so you smoothed her hair out of her face and smiled gently at her, Pope shook his head wildly not wanting to believe it, JJ boo’ed at you and threw a handful of sand your way- most of it landing on Pope, John B just stared at you with an eyebrow raised. The innocent question soon turned into a game of ‘Best…’ everyone taking turns; and all too soon it was asked, ‘Best hook up’. You bit your lip and listened to them all- Pope being more shy about sharing, but he’d had a lot to drink- you could ask for anything and the kid would give it to you. JJ spoke for what felt like eternity- one ‘best’ after another. Kie spoke about the differences between partners; talking about the passion, the yearning and teasing- it almost made you blush as she spoke about the pros of sleeping with girls and boys alike. John B just said it was some rando from the mainland- not giving any details. The group then looked to you, you looked down at the sand you were burying your feet in- refusing to look at any of them as you shrugged- not wanted to say it out loud, when you looked up Kie pouted at you. You brushed your lips against her cheek in comfort.

John B looked penseive, his face carefully compromised to not reveal his thoughts. Pope looked like he wanted to interrogate you, JJ noticed this too and began to regale the group with more of his bedroom tales, Kie scoffing and throwing her empty cup towards him- before feeling guilty and going to pick it up and place it in the recycling bin close by. The part was beginning to wind down- a few other locals helping the five of you tidy up the mess you’d made. Once the beach was clean to Kie’s standards, John B lead you all back to the chateau. You had one arm wrapped around Kie’s waist- one of her wrapped around you- Pope latched onto the other side of her. John B heading up the group, a hand held out behind him holding your loosely- and JJ bringing up the rear. You turned your head to look at the blonde- he was being too quiet, you noticed he was hanging back before grinning wildly at you before charging forwards and grabbing onto your waist dragging you from Kie and John B- swinging you around until you were laughing loudly with the rest of the group after getting over the initial shock. He span you to face his back and bobbed down- beaming over his shoulder as you jumped up and got situated on his back; arms wrapping around his shoulders loosely as your face rested in the crook of his neck- his hands gripping onto the back of your thighs holding you fast to him. He ran to joi the rest of the group, John B taking your previous place next to Kie- JJ ran you both past them all. As you dashed by- you let a hand fall behind you and gripped onto the cap that was resting on John B’s wild hair- he tried to grab for it as you teased him, placing the cap on your own head in a similar fashion to how he usually wore it- blowing him a kiss and tossing him a wink JJ cheered you on. Kie and Pope laughing along. John B smiled gently at you shaking his head and ducking it down slightly.

Eventually you reached the chateau, Kie and Pope flopping onto the pull out- John B waltzing to the kitchen to grab some more beers- JJ still had you wrapped around him and he didn’t seem to mind. Traipsing round the main room with you still held tight against his back- you laughed the entire time. John B handed the beers round you all- as he passed one to JJ, who tapped on your thigh with his fingers gently you dropped from his back and went to sit on the table legs crossed shoes kicked off and sipping on your beer contentedly. John B leaned against the table next to you- leaning an elbow on your shoulder and flicked the peak of his cap smirking at you. You just grinned back. JJ flopped onto the floor in between Kie and Pope resting his head on the pull out behind him, sighing as Kie’s fingers found his hair and began twisting the tresses gently. The pogues all sat chatting idly and nursing your beers until Kie announced she was sleepy and she snuggled down further on the cushions pulling Pope with her. As she manoeuvred, she accidentally knocked JJ with her foot- he exclaimed but stood still and made his way to the bedrooms. Kie made grabby hands towards you and you smiled before dropping a kiss to hers and Pope’s foreheads- both smiling dopily and closing their eyes to sleep.

“Pssst!” John B whispered across the room, nudging his head towards the direction JJ had taken. You followed wrapping an arm around his waist you both shuffled to his room- laughing when you saw JJ sprawled on the bed. John B scoffed and hit at his foot as you leaped on the bed and got comfy. John B rolling his eyes as he joined the pair of you- the usually large enough bed soon felt cramped with all three of you situated on it. JJ twirled a piece of your hair around his finger absently as John B twiddled with the fingers on one of your hands- you all stared at the ceiling above, staring at the star charts there. You were all comfortable, chilling; all of you boosed and buzzed nicely. And you thought ‘Fuck it…’

“I want to have sex!” You announced- as soon as the words left your lips, you almost regretted them as the pair of boys both stopped their fiddling and turned to you. JJ choking on his breath, and John B raiding his eyebrows so high you wondered if they would ever settle back to their normal state. JJ coughed, trying catch his breath looked at you with wide eyes.

“What?” he asked once he had calmed down enough, you let your eyes scrunch shut. This seemed so simple earlier, when you hadn’t told them about your plan and had just decided it would happen- but now they were actually involved and it made you anxious.

“I wanna have sex…. With one of you guys. I know you’ll treat me right, and show me all the things. The sex things… I’m just sick of being horny and a virgin ya feel?” You stated your unoccupied hand coming to rest over your burning face.

“The sex things… shit…” JJ muttered one of his own hands dragging through his own hair. He couldn't take his eyes off you- his fuzzy mind trying to process what you'd just said. You felt like curling up and dying in a corner- you flushed from head to toe and desperately tried to think of a way back from this.

"What about the rules? No pogue on pogue macking.." John B murmured, his head turned fully towards you as he lifted your hands from you tomato coloured face. JJ rolled onto his side and stared at you too. You puffed out your cheeks.

"Well... it wouldn't really be macking? It’d be like when you taught me to drive the Pogue or when J taught me to surf, ya know?" You whispered, mortified. You were regretting ever bringing it up, regretting ever thinking of it in the first place, like it was a stupid idea. Of course neither of them would want to have sex with you, the rules were there for a reason- an innocent friendly peck here and there didn’t break the rules, but sex would definitely break them. You turned your head and looked at both boys, either side of you- JJ was frowning and staring at you, you tried not to shrink under his stare. John B had a poker face on- his eyes though were stormy, thoughts tumbling around his brain. You whined and rolled over onto your stomach- burying your head in the pillow. Trying to fight the stinging of your eyes- ignoring the fact that you were crying about this. Maybe that last beer was one too many.

____________________________________________________________________

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because when you next rolled over- the sun was blazing through John B’s shutters. You groaned pitifully to yourself and tried to gather the strength and will power to move from your pit of despair. A laugh from further within the building, the smell of food wafting through- urging you to move, so you did, eyes finding a discarded shirt from the floor and pulling it on to cover your body some more- your bikini top and shorts not feeling all that comfortable any longer. You waddled your way to the main room in the chateau; eyes catching on John B and JJ as they both sat up straighter when you entered. You coughed nervously and moved around the room collecting the bacon; obviously delivered from the Wreck, and a bottle of water from the fridge. You could feel their eyes following you, and the silence was setting you on edge. You turned to the boys and glanced at them, bottom lip between your teeth as you nibbled on it anxiously- wondering why they were watching you like an animal in the zoo. You took a bite of the bacon and tried not to groan at the feeling of food entering your body; you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until that point.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” JJ asked, staring you down as you choked on a mouthful of food- you coughed and spluttered as you wracked your brain trying to understand what he was asking you. It was a hazy memory, but one you couldn’t quite forget- you remembered exactly what he meant, you dropped the bacon to the plate and grabbed up your water bottle to try and take a swig. Swallowing slowly to try and sooth the irritation of your throat- your eyes fluttered around the room. JJ looked anxiously at you; his big blue eyes widened, eyebrows raised lips pouted slightly. John B leaned against the wall, hand on JJ’s shoulder- eyes sparkling but face mostly passive. You sighed running a hand through your matted hair- trying to buy yourself more time. Did you mean it, yesterday you had decided the course of action- but then when it came to telling them it felt like the earth was swallowing you up. And now- well, you weren’t sure, you knew you wanted to have sex; you had needs god damn it! But did you really need to involve the boys in your quest to pop your cherry? They didn’t give you much of a response the night before. Which made you feel worse.

“Umm… I guess. I mean I wanna have sex… but if either of you don’t want to.. then I get it, it was super weird of me to ask…” You started out strong- but their combined penetrating gaze making you feel small. JJ nodded, before looking at John B- shrugging his hand off his shoulder, he crossed the room in quick strides and grabbed you up within his arms. And before you could fully comprehend what was happening his chapped lips were pressed to your own. One hand tangling in your hair and the other pulling you close to him. You gasped into the kiss when his lips began moving against your own- his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, seeking your own. Opening up to him, he slipped his tongue to meet you, caressing over your own. Tangling in a dance that was beginning to kindle a fire within. Your hands came up to wrap around him, as one of his large hands came to hold your jaw- angling you face to deepen the kiss. You could feel the breath leaving your body, your knees weakening and a lust bubbling under your skin. The hand resting at your waist squeezed tightly- wrinkling the fabric of the soft, borrowed t-shirt you were wearing, his fingers slid towards you thigh- gently stroking over the smooth skin there- a light moan leaving your lips and JJ chuckled against you- his chest rumbling with the noise and he pulled back, leaving gentle pecks on your lips softly before pulling away completely and peering in to your breathless face. You breathed deeply, trying to regain some semblance of control- you were still wrapped around JJ as a second pair of hands tugged you away and settled you in front of their body.

You looked up into John B’s sparkling eyes, the light smirk playing on his inviting lips. You hadn’t quite wrapped your mind around what had just happened- but John B placed his hands on your hips and pulled you against him as he perched on the edge of the table; legs spread wide enough for you to stand between them- then pressed his lips against you. There was no rush; his soft lips smoothing over your own, gentle and languid- but that didn’t stop the heat bubbling under your skin. Your hands found his sun kissed tresses and you buried themsleves there, tangling within and pulling the pair of you closer. John opened his mouth- teeth nipping at your bottom lip and suckling it between his own deepening the kiss. You moaned weakly and felt you body lean more into him as the recent events and current ones took a toll on you. John B’s lazy kisses became fervent- rushed; nibbling, sucking and teasing pushing and pulling you in to him. When he pulled away as breathless as you- you frowned trying to chase his lips, wanting them back. The boys both chuckled, the rumbling sound bringing you back to reality. John B’s hands still held your hips fast to him, and one of JJ’s hands brushed your hair from your face. You took a steadying breath and forced your mind to focus- which was harder than it should be, with John B’s hands holding you tightly, his and JJ’s kiss still burning on your lips. you pushed his hands from you hips and stepped away from the pair, trying to breath calmly.

Now you had some space, you could see the pair smirking at you; eyes twinkling at you, their lips plump and looking so inviting. JJ raised a hand and his thumb rest against his bottom lip- while John B clapped his hands and rubbed them together in front of him.

“We’re in…” John B stated confidently, arms folding over his chest- JJ nodding along emphatically and grinning wide. You gasped, eyes widening and nodding- letting your mind catch up. You were still kiss drink from them, a hand raising to rest on your forehead. You looked up and stared at the boys- they just stood smirking.

“There’s gonna be some rules though; we’re both going to help you, cause you didn’t specify who.” JJ stated gesturing between them both as you stood- still shocked but nodding nonetheless.

“We’ll go at your pace, and only do things with you when you say.. yes we’re teaching you, but this is on your terms.” John B stated, gesturing to you, smirk still in place.

“We don’t tell Kie and Pope about this, obviously..” JJ shrugged his shoulders, at the mention of their names you looked towards the pull out and sighed when you saw they had already left.

“Now we need to know what exactly you do know and we can go from there..” John B winked, he moved to the pull out and flopped down onto it, JJ copying his actions before gesturing you to join them. You settled between the boys and waited, you wondered whether the booze from last night was bad or something- cause none of this was making sense.

“Do you know what gets you off?” JJ murmured in to your ear, one hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder- lips dropping a kiss there as he waited for you to respond. You looked to John B beside you, who just shrugged, eyebrow raised. You breathed deeply, JJ resting his chin on your shoulder- you knew the theory and mechanics of sex; but hadn’t put it into practice, nerves bubbled in your tummy as you continued your train of thought. You’d watched porn, and 50 shades- you had used your fingers to ease your libido- you knew how to work them to work yourself to orgasm. But you’d never been touched by another person in that way and you’d never touched another in that way.

“I’ve watched porn before…” You mumbled, cheeks blazing- JJ buried his head in your neck, gently pecking the area. John B traced a finger up your thigh before dropping his hand on it and squeezing gently.

“It’s not realistic.. but a good place to start kinda..” the brunette murmured softly. “Have you ever gotten yourself off?” he asked, a delicate blush covering his tan cheeks- you on the other hand burned with embarrassment and the earlier lust beginning to trickle throughout again. You could only nod.

“That’s good, you know what you like, you can teach us how..” JJ whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending shivers through you- the boys both chuckling at your response. The blonde dropping a kiss to your neck and shoulder again before standing up and high-fiving John B- he winked at you and left the chateau- you and the Routledge boy alone- the silence within almost deafening. John B squeezed your thigh gently, ducking his head slightly to be face-to-face with you.

“You wanna try something now?” he whispered- watching as you bit into your bottom lip and nodded. He lurched forward and attached your lips together once more. He wasn’t slow and relaxed this time, he instantly pried your lips apart with his tongue and tangled it with yours. Kissing into you passionately, gently nudging you back to lie on the pull out- he hovered over you, pulling from your lips to kiss around your mouth, then lower discovering you neck like an unmapped land. You moaned as his teeth nipped at your skin- you could feel the grin he wore as he continued to assault your neck. He let one hand hold your jaw, and pulled back- he manoeuvred the pair of you to sit once more, his other arm trailing and resting around your waist- squeezing and lifting you until you were somehow straddling him. You whimpered as he sucked and nipped playfully at you neck. You pulled back to stare at him; he was smiling wolfishly, eyes ablaze, lips kiss-swollen and cheeks dusted with a blush as he stared back at you. You untangled his hand from you hair- ghosting over your neck and the light marks he’d left- grin widening slightly- before plucking gently at the t-shirt you were wearing.

“Looks good on you..” he whispered, grin still in place- he was breathing deeply, and you took a moment to eye his torso; abs working slightly as he breathed quickly. He tilted your chin up and kissed you again- this time with no rush, it was languid and arousal seared through your entirety. His hands took up residence on your thighs, calloused fingers brushing the skin, pushing the large t-shirt up, you whimpered against his lips. He felt so good against you- soft lips kissing against you, hard muscle supporting you- your hand trailed to rest on his chest, it flexing against you hat palm- his skin hotter beneath it. Your body reacting to his lightest of touches- lips fusing together, panting into eachother’s mouths, as neither of you wanted to part. Your hips twitched on top of him, a shock running through your body as he moaned as the contact of your clothed cores rubbing a delicious friction for you both. He gripped onto your hips, fingers digging in, in an enticing manner; he held your hips and guided you over him. Grinding you on top of him, your whines and moans echoing throughout the chateau- his matching sounds slightly quieter than yours. As your body moved and rubbed against him in a tantalising way, one of his hands raised to traced the curve of your body- fingers spreading wide and resting over your ribs, just underneath your breast- thumb gently running along the bottom of you bikini top teasingly.

Your hand found his and cupped it around you, encouraging him to squeeze and tease you. He didn’t disappoint; squeezing gently, exploring the area, letting his fingers tease you hard nipple- pinching and flicking it. All the while your hips worked furiously against him, there was a pressure building within as you could feel him hard beneath; through your clothes, the material rubbing right against you clit in a maddening way. You worked your hips with more fervour focus, you could feel that overwhelming knot tying and twisting tightly within- fraying until it snapped, your climax washing over you forcefully. You moaned and buried your head in the crook of his neck- he panted beneath you, the pair of you trying to catch your breath and calm your racing hearts. The fire within you only burned on, as you could still feel him pressing against you harshly- you began moving your hips, slowly, you were sensitive and knew a second release wouldn’t take long. But John B gripped your hips tightly and stopped you movements, shaking his head.

“No, no, no- this is all for you okay? Don’t worry about me…” he chuckled, his voice deeper than normal- making you want to grip his head and kiss him into oblivion, you restrained yourself as he helped you to sit beside him. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to him. You two stayed cuddled together long after your racing hearts had calmed and you breathing had returned to normal, eventually he stood from the pull out, tugging you with him and leading you to his room before traipsing to the bathroom by himself. Your eyes caught on the bulge in his shorts making you blush- one he spotted and sent a wink to you. You laid in his bed and tried to wrap your mind around the happenings of the day. When John B appeared again, he had a towel slung low on his hips- making your mouth go dry, he searched for clothes and explained that you’d stop by your place to change and then you were going to meet the others for a day on the boat as usual. You nodded, more focused on watching him cover up his still damp body with an unbuttoned shirt, board shorts, backwards cap, converse and his ever present bandanna tied around his neck. He looked over to you, chuckling as he clocked the mark on your own neck, grabbing another bandanna; he tied it around your throat like his own. Dropping a kiss to the corner of your lips, smirking when he pulled away. He dragged you out of the chateau and to the parked bus- ready to start your day even though it was nearing the afternoon by this point. You both got settled in the Twinkie before setting off.

[meta-squash]

Brick Club 2.5.5 “Which Would Be Impossible If The Streets Were Lit With Gas”

@everyonewasabird​​ I am equally confused about the layout of these streets. I tried to use this Visualizing Les Miserables thing but the map’s legend is unfortunately directly on top of the streets we need.

Here’s my confused attempts at mapping these streets:

I really had a time trying to figure how something could be Y-shaped and also have right angles. I’m just so confused.

It seems as though the street corner that Valjean is standing at has a blunt end, like my drawing in the top right corner. But I still can’t figure out how everything is laid out. I wish Hugo had done the fantasy author thing and supplied little drawings. I know Hugo did a number of little character doodles in his manuscripts, I wonder if there are street doodles too.

Hugo is really hammering home Javert’s height in this section the way he hasn’t before. He seems much taller than before. Is this a sort of symbolic magic? He has the upper hand here and the power, and therefore he becomes so much taller in a way that he wasn’t when he was just a humble policeman in M-sur-M? In Fantine’s room he was monstrous and wolf-like but he wasn’t towering. Or is he unnaturally tall the way Valjean is unnaturally strong?

15 minutes is a weirdly long time? I mean it’s a short period of time but it’s a weirdly long amount of time for a group of people to be searching for someone? I suppose they know they have Valjean surrounded and therefore are willing to take their time. But it just seems odd to me that Javert and his gendarmes aren’t spreading out and instead are working as a unit, making stops that mean it will take them 15 whole minutes to make it to Valjean’s hiding place. A similar thing happens in the sewers.

“And prison now was no longer simply prison; it was Cosette lost forever--a living death.” Valjean’s original sentence was heartbreaking and horrible because he had tried so hard to care for his sister’s family. And yet he had not felt the depth of love for those children (despite the gesture as his chains were put on) that he has developed for Cosette. I think his return to prison, his return to the Orion was a horrible, re-traumatizing experience, but it was sort of “simply prison.” He had made a promise to Fantine but he kind of knew the entire time that he was going to try and escape at some point and help Cosette. We know this because he went to the trouble of escaping the jail and burying his money and trying to get to Montfermeil. But going to prison now would be devastating in a completely different way. Cosette has helped bring Valjean back to life, has reshaped his heart and his morals and his ways of thinking. He’s never been this close to another human being. Losing her wouldn’t just be going back to prison, I think it would break him completely. I think it would push him even deeper than the depths that he had reached before Myriel bought his soul for god.

Okay well this description of Valjean climbing the right-angle of a wall confuses me even more re: the construction of the streets and houses. My kingdom for a map.

“The whole strength of a man is necessary to accomplish these strange assents.” I love this as a metaphorical line as well.

Hugo mentions that Valjean has two “knapsacks,” one of a saint and one of an ex-convict, which he picks from as he sees fit. He is almost fully in the ex-convict mindset here. He chooses a really awful way to keep Cosette quiet, because it’s also the quickest. He has no time explain what’s going on or why Cosette must be silent. Threatening her with the Thenardiess is the easiest way but it’s mean. At least he tempers it by saying he’ll make sure Cosette doesn’t get hurt.

I don’t know if Hugo did this on purpose, but I think Valjean ties Cosette in the same way that the Conventionist describes Cartouche’s brother being hung in the Place de Greve.

And Valjean escapes with just a hair’s breadth of safety. Cosette’s hands are a bit scraped. Did she put her hands out instinctively because she was scared? Or was she trying to help.

I had a realization too that I wonder if the description of these streets, despite Hugo’s insistence that they’re exact, is deliberately confusing and strange. So much of his descriptions of Paris are also wrapped up in discussions of progress and modernity and visibility. This is a section of Paris that no longer exists (and in the real world never existed at all), which means Hugo gets to describe it however he wants. And old streets are strange, irregular, twisting, morphing things. Hugo gets to remove all modernity and progress from this section of streets, turning it back into its medieval knot of weirdness, the same way that the convent itself kind of throws everything back into the past and avoids progress. And this is another moment of providence: Valjean puts his faith in god, goes blindly, and god leads him to the church. These streets might be mysterious and confusing because there’s a sort of miracle or magic happening, the convent kind of blooming before Valjean as a miraculous sanctuary in the center of this knot of danger.

[neonhymn]

continued thread for @bckdoors​

nari’s reaction to the drawing brings a smile to celeste face, and for the first time since the other woman entered the shop, she breaks the stone cold facade. there’s something so gratifying about seeing emotions flood her client’s face when faced with the representation of the message they want to convey through a tattoo. “a magician never reveal their secret, and neither do i.” many more ideas, to complete the design, are swirling around in her brain. celeste is feeling particularly inspired by the other woman. there’s an enigma to be resolved in the other  ―  one she should have no interest in  ―  but she tells herself she’s only digging further, for the sake of her art, rather than something else. she isn’t fooling herself one bit. “this is what i wanted to hear.” the tattoo artist takes back the sketchbook, and does a little check mark next to it, as in approved, then writes down scale, blindfold, all little elements she wanted to add. “i NEVER do the same design twice,” she assures. it is said artists see the world from a different perspective, maybe this is where celeste talent lies: her artistic brain. she sees more than meets the eye, taking in every little details of the world that surrounds her, and translating them through mishmash of colors, lines and shapes that come together to form the clearest of picture. “another element of justice, that can be incorporated is the blindfold. i wouldn’t hide both eyes, however. only one, to keep the effect of being stared at while looking at the tattoo, that you want.” the picture is slowly coming together in her mind, and brings that much more excitement to the tattoo artist, shown in her smile that grows bigger. “how does it sound?” she looks up to nari, and raises an eyebrow. from the corner of her eye, she sees the coffee maker, and asks, “would you like some coffee, tea, water? we may be here, for a little.”

Magic was a light word to use to describe what was happening here. Nari rarely believed in things like love at first sight and destiny and maybe this wasn't love but she was completely entranced by the artist. She never let anyone in, anyone see her and yet without even trying this girl just read Nari down to her core. How was the hacker supposed to leave it at just one encounter? She needed more. Especially after hearing that this was the first of its kind, it wasn't a recycled idea. Celeste just looked at her and knew. Nari felt so exposed for the first time in her life and it was only supposed to be a simple meeting. It was unfair that Celeste could read her so easily and keep herself so guarded though. Nari didn't have the easiest time connecting to others and most of the time she didn't care to. But now she wanted to. Her eyes flickered between the hand scribbling on the pad of paper and the woman's features. She wanted to trace the outlines of her face with her fingertips, such a tender feeling and a rare one. This was a disaster in the making. "No, that's perfect actually. like to remind someone that they're always being watched. Not that a lot of people are going to see this tattoo in the first place. I usually wear pants. But I'm going to see it and that's enough for me," she rubbed her thigh where the tattoo would go, trying to ignore the fact that she was rambling. She looked at the pad of paper for a brief moment and the tattoo looks better than anything she could have imagined and she was excited about it more than she could explain. But it's the way Celeste is smiling when she asked the question, how wide is was growing that took all of her attention off of the art she had been looking forward to putting on her body for months. Would she be feeling the same way about Celeste? Thinking about her nonstop like all of her other little obsessions? "Beautiful," she sighed, and she's looking straight at the tattoo artist as she says it. Unashamed, but she needed to reign it in otherwise she was going to make this experience awkward. She leaned back against her seat with her hands folded on her lap, following her gaze to the coffee maker. "Coffee sounds good. I don't mind making it while you work though. I don't like sitting around anyways. How do you like yours?" She's already standing up before Celeste had the chance to protest, moving to the coffee maker. It was weird doing something like this in an unfamiliar place and normally she hated being out of her comfort zone but she was determined to learn about Celeste and this was her chance.

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 20

Picking back up from last time, Part 2 of Hope on ice is here and we get to see a bit more of Draw’s personality. I don’t really know how to describe him, but to a degree as I type this out he makes me think of Charlie Brown. It’s inaccurate to be sure, but why babble about it when I can let everyone read...

     ~Draw was a sweet little koala kid who had taken on the occupation of a golem hunter. It seemed kind of strange for a kid to do, but I guess it’s easiest to go after it when you first think about it. But I think he might have bit off more than he could chew, hee-hee. The terrible golem at this old ruin was awfully nasty. But I wasn’t going to get away either while it was rampaging about, so I was going to have to talk my rescuer into helping me out. Now if only the people of these lands weren’t so stubborn.

     ~Ooh~! It really shouldn’t surprise me that Draw got freaked out too when I told him about my Ring Bond with Sonic. Between Ix using it to hurt people and people here being scared of Rings it makes sense. But it’s so frustrating!

     ~Rings are so amazing! Not only will they protect us from harm, but they have so many other uses too. If you build something and put a ring in it when you finish you can always make it brand new again by giving it another Ring, or a lot depending on how big it is. But even more amazing is that if you gather a hundred of them, they’ll make all of your scrapes and bruises go away, no matter how bad they are. But the ability I really need to experiment with is how Rings can suck bad things out of your body.

     ~Sonic uses the Ring Bond to share his abilities with people. He’s never taken anything by force, though I shared with him my ability to swim once. He was so stubborn about it. Tee-hee~♥ But he’s made a few Ring Bonds with me now and being able to use Rings to take bad things out of me was to help protect me from a mean old man back home. But what I want to know right now is if I can use them to keep the cold from seeping in too.

     ~Fortunately, though it took an awful lot of effort, I was able to convince Draw that using Rings I could help him beat that mean old golem. But as I gathered Rings under the ruins in the tunnels he showed me, he kept calling me names–~

     “You really are gathering them you weirdo girl!”

     ~And when I was testing out if the Rings could keep the cold out of me like poison–~

     “You idiot weirdo girl! Why are you jumping in the water!”

     ~Also, when he showed me his golem hunting tools–~

     Rings scattered everywhere as an explosion knocked Rosy on her rear and Draw stared on in horror. At least for a moment until he realized none of the other arrows had exploded and that he was safe. Then he turned to frustrated anger.

     “You stupid weirdo girl! Are you trying to kill us! AGH! And I thought maybe it’d be the golem, the cold, or that I’m almost out of food that would get me first! I never dreamed I’d be killed by some weird girl!”

     “How rude,” Rosy countered curtly as she puffed up her cheeks. “You just wait. I’ll show you that you can beat that mean old golem with a little help from some Rings.”

     ~I don’t think Draw believed me and I felt as he showed me ways to hide from the golem in case our eventual fight went wrong that he was looking at me more than anything else. I was able to save up enough Rings to even make a Ring Gate too if I needed to while he did, but beating that mean old golem came first. It would be too dangerous to leave it here unattended. Now if only Draw would pay attention and do what I know he can instead of looking at me so much!~

     “I know I’m pretty cute, but we can see the golem from here. Shouldn’t we be more careful?”

     “I’m still not sure which is more dangerous between the two of you,” the young koala expressed his concerns as he glared back at Rosy and tightened his grip on his small bow.

     With a heavy sigh, Rosy puffed up her cheeks and looked at Draw firmly. “I don’t know why you won’t believe me! You make it sound like I’m just telling fairytales!”

     “How do I know you’re not?”

     “I showed you the photo of me and my friends! I just need to find them and then we can all try and get back home like we were doing before we got separated. Besides, Rings are useful, and we’ll need them to beat this golem.”

     “I still say they’re cursed.”

     “That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Rosy whined annoyed, but Draw finally turned his attention onto the golem. The towering monstrosity was unlike any he had likely every practiced against before and he swallowed loudly. Rosy caught the doubt in the young koala and acted against it immediately.

     “Hey! I know you can do this! You’re a golem hunter after all! You even showed me those arrows of yours that explode. Even a golem with a gem as big as a three-story house will go down from that.”

     “But can I even get close enough to shoot it? I mean, look at the size of it!”

     “Well, you just leave that to me. I may not be good at fighting, but I’m great at helping people!”

     With a wink Rosy sprinted off to get the golems attention leaving Draw reaching out after her. “Wait! We didn’t even discuss a plan yet! What is wrong with you, you weirdo girl!”

     Though Rosy could reach the speed of sound, she moved nowhere near that fast as the raging snowstorm that engulfed the island dampened her movements. It was also enough to drown out Draw’s voice. Rosy trusted however that the golem would hear her and cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted.

     “Hey! You big meanie! I’m still here!”

     Though she wanted to get its attention, Rosy still could not contain her fear as the massive construct turned in the air towards her.

     “Come on Rosy, you can do this. Besides, Draw is counting on you and this old ruin can’t take much more from this golem. I just need to be as good as Sonic this one time.”

     As she hyped herself, the golem began to pull back one of the two massive arms which gave it its arch like appearance and which its ten-story sized fist rested at the end of. Watching it pull back to unleash the blow Rosy began to run in place, her feet becoming a swirling ribbon of red. But she had to wait. Wait until the golem’s fist was sure to strike. But summoning all of her courage and faith in the speed Sonic shared with her through a Ring Bond what seemed an eternity ago, Rosy timed it perfectly and was rewarded with a sonic boom.

     “What was that?” Draw quivered in terror as the boom just preceded the crashing of the golem’s fist through another part of what remained of the ancient stone brick structure. “Did she get away, or…”

     Turning his head to and fro, Draw did not see Rosy, yet the golem withdrew its fist and turned as though still in pursuit. Following the golem, Draw finally spotted Rosy standing on top of a tall tower that somehow was still standing.

     “Wait, if it attacks you there it won’t even need to hit you. It can just take out the tower!”

     Draw’s words stood no chance at reaching the excited pink hedgehog girl who waved cheerfully at the golem, going so far as to stick her tongue out at it. It was obvious she was staying warm thanks to the Rings, but the golem cared not and wasted no time in preparing to strike. Watching and feeling helpless Draw caught his breath in his throat. Until realization dawned on him that the gem of the golem would be directly over his head after it swung.

     “She’s crazy! That girl isn’t just a weirdo, she’s totally crazy too!”

     More so than Draw realized too. With a full stash of Rings in her possession, Rosy did not even try to dodge the attack. As Draw suspected though the golem took out the tower and Rosy’s footing with it.

     “No! She’s totally helpless!” Gritting his teeth and pulling his eyes off of Rosy, Draw looked straight up to the three-story green gem that powered the golem. He only had one shot and if he was going to take it and save Rosy again, it was now or never.

     “HRRRAGH~!” With a desperate scream, Draw pulled free an explosive headed arrow from his quiver and drew back his bow. Then one. Two. Three.

     Arrow after arrow flew straight up and as the first reached the green gem it exploded and set off a chain reaction in the others. Unfortunately, the first explosion set off the others too soon and the gem merely cracked rather than shattered. As the golem moved to turn towards the source, Draw exhaled in frostbitten horror. “Oh no…”

     “No! No! No! No! No!” the young koala shouted desperately as he turned towards his quiver, but there was not one explosive arrow left and his face paled. Slowly he looked back up at the golem in absolute terror.

     “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her…”

     Rosy was not one to stop helping with just a push though and was already in motion. Draw’s attack had provided her the opportunity she needed and in a streak of pink along the golem’s arch shaped arms she reached the center and peak of the construct. Looking down at Draw below, she waved her hands before cupping them to her mouth.

     “You see Draw! You did great, just look at what we were able to do working together!”

     Stepping off of the golem’s arms, Rosy curled into a tight, spinning ball and dropped straight down into the green gem that powered the golem. Had the gem still been undamaged she would have bounced harmlessly off it, but the cracks caused by Draw’s attack gave it the fragility Rosy needed and she bore straight through it. Her customary bounce still happened though, just not until she landed next to Draw and caused the koala to jump away in shock.

     “Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha~♪” Rosy laughed cheerfully as she uncurled and landed on her rump. “Look at that! We did it! We did it!”

     Following where Rosy pointed upward, Draw watched amazed as thousands of shimmering seeds of light filled the air and the golem began to crumble.

     “Come on, we better get out of the way. The flowers that are going to bloom are just as dangerous as the falling rocks!”

     ~And they were beautiful. When Draw and I emerged from the ruins where we took cover, the whole island had become like a spring garden in a snow globe. The golem was vanquished and the both of us were free to leave. I didn’t find Sonic or Mighty like I had hoped, but I did make a new friend, even though I think he’s probably more scared of me than the golem. Oh well, I’ll just have to show him that I’m just a silly little hedgehog girl with a love for adventure. Then I’m sure he’ll stop being scared of me and Rings too! It’ll be so wonderful for both of us!~

 Scene 20 · CLEARED Hope on Ice, End

-----

So as I said, definitely not Charlie Brown, right? I mean Draw is a beat to cynical and mean for that. He’s kind of a rough for a kid, but that’s how it goes it suppose.

I hope everyone enjoyed meeting Draw and look forward to seeing more of him. He’ll be traveling with Rosy for a while yet. Thanks again everyone and I’ll see you next time!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Jungle Joyride - Night – By SEGA & Kenichi Tokoi – Sonic - Unleashed Original Soundtrack: Planetary Pieces

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[golden-deer-dear]

The Weight of a Name, Claude x Byleth AU Fic, Chapter 4

Summary: One decision can change the course of nations. When King Mahtab brought home a baby from Fódlan, he gave his own son someone to stand at his side. Byleth grows up side by side with Claude, surviving the hardship of Almyra together. For each, they are the other’s only friend.

Notes: This chapter took forever. I couldn't quite make it feel right, so it got rewritten multiple times. And it's very long, so I hope that makes up for the wait.Now that we're actually out of NaNo, I'll probably be slower on updates for this story. I'm going to switch between updating this and History on Repeat (and whatever little one shots catch my attention, because let's be real, I get distracted super easily).

I just realized I completely forgot the links to previous chapters, and to AO3 in the other chapters. I’m going back to fix that right now. I always try to include these, so if you notice I forget them, please yell at me. 

1162, 1167, 1169 Read on AO3. 

The Weight of a Name 1170

Moving from the summer palace back to the capital city was always more of a show than Byleth thought necessary. Under normal circumstances the trip would only take two or three days, one on the back of a wyvern, but with the entire royal entourage in tow the entire process took five days at the least. With the king deciding on the third day that pausing for a hunt was a sensible thing to do, it meant they would linger in the wilderness even longer. Byleth really did not wish to listen to the complaints of spoiled nobles longer than necessary.

Which was how she found herself off to the side of the proceedings, sharp eyes watching as nobles gossiped and drank, and servants rushed to refill those drinks and check provisions. Byleth did not feel as if she fit into either group, and wanted to join Claude. He would have some weird quip that would have Byleth fighting that odd sensation that made her want to smile. But Claude was mounted beside his father, taking a place of honor in the hunt. It was a wholly inappropriate place for a Fódlan orphan. His wyvern, almost a year old, was still small enough to fit on his shoulders, and had wrapped itself around Claude’s shoulders. Shamil watched the whole proceedings with the same annoyance Byleth felt.

Naima stepped into Byleth’s field of vision, drawing the young girl’s attention away from her friend. You are not excited? Naima signed, the smile on her lips betraying her knowledge of the answer she would receive.

Byleth shook her head, the thick braid Naima had woven her hair into bouncing against her back. “No. This seems unnecessary. Look at Nader. He’s got that smile on his face, but it’s fake. He hasn’t set up security for this situation.”

Naima looked thoughtful, tapping a well manicured nail against her lips before she answered. True, but we are also in the heart of Almyra. There is not much here to harm us besides ourselves, and that is a threat the king and Nader are both very used to looking out for. 

Byleth still did not look satisfied. “I’ll feel better when we’re home.”

Naima sighed silently and shook her head. If you are so worried, then once the hunt begins find your way to his side. 

As Naima adjusted the bow on her back, Byleth blinked at her caretaker. “Where will you be?”

Where I always am, Naima answered simply, her eyes drifting toward her brother. Wherever he needs me.

/

There were times Byleth hated being right. This was very much one of them.

The rampaging wyvern had come out of nowhere, screaming in pain and rage when it encountered the royal party. The bandits came next, cursing when they saw just who they had run into. They were bad actors. Byleth did not believe their ploy for a moment. But as to why they decided such a show was necessary was not the issue at the moment. 

No, Byleth was much more worried about the injured wyvern. Mahtab had placed himself between the creature and Claude, protecting his son from the first attack, but with the bandits joining in, the king’s attention was now divided.

“Claude!” Byleth charged toward her friend, pushing her way past the confusion the royal party had fallen into. Nader was shouting orders, quickly getting a handle on the situation. As many of the nobles were soldiers as well, they were falling into formation with a terrifying grace and swiftness. 

Claude glance for a brief second in her direction, but his focus was on the wyvern still going berserk at the head of the party. He drew his bow and knocked an arrow. Byleth saw him take a deep breath in, releasing half of it as he aimed, only fully exhaling as the arrow flew from his bow. 

The wyvern screamed in pain as the arrow sank into its open maw. It was an impressive shot, a wound that would kill over the course of a few minutes as the creature bled out, but the wyvern was so enraged it did not seem to realize its life blood was pouring out onto the ground below it. It screamed, snapping the arrow in half as it gnashed its teeth together, its attention now fully focused on the young prince.

Byleth sprinted forward, her legs aching with effort as she dodged hooves and blades that stood between her and her friend. She watched Claude pale as he reached for another arrow, but the wyvern was charging fast. By the time Claude had aimed his next arrow it would be too close. 

Please, please, please! Byleth had no idea who she was pleading with, no idea if anyone could actually listen. But beneath the sounds of battle, the screams as men died around her, Byleth could have sworn she heard someone yawn. 

She had no time to ponder it. Her legs pumped, putting on a speed that would have surprised anyone paying attention to her, and placed herself between the wyvern and Claude. Claude cried out, but Byleth’s sword was already raised. Her sword tore into the berserk creature’s neck even as its claw came crashing down onto her shoulder. 

Claude jumped from his horse, axe in hand, and rushed to her side. Byleth bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain when Claude grabbed her, attempting to pull her away, but the wyvern had just enough fury left to sustain it a moment longer. The creature’s tail swung around, catching both children and knocking them through the air, and right into the river the party had traveled alongside all morning.

Byleth scrambled as water closed in over her head, knowing that the scent of her blood in the water would attract predators. Claude. She needed to find Claude. Where was he?

Something wrapped around her, pulling at her. Byleth wanted to scream as the action aggravated her injured shoulder, but she saw the green of Claude’s tunic and kicked her feet, helping as he dragged them both to shore.

She breathed deeply when the water broke over her head, coughing and sputtering on the shore as Claude did the same beside her. 

“Ugh,” Claude finally managed, his voice hoarse.

Byleth shared the sentiment, but they did not have time for a break. “Come on,” she said, forcing herself to roll over and push herself to her feet. “We need to go.”

“Ugh,” Claude moaned again. After a moment though he too pushed himself up. Shamil poked his head out of Claude’s shirt, hacking and looking no better than his master.

“Do you still have your bow?” Byleth asked, eyes scanning their surroundings. The tall grass of the plains they were traveling through would be easy for someone familiar with the area to hide within, and not so easy for them. Plus, so long as they were near the river, there would be predatory animals to worry about as well.

Claude shook his head, stumbling a bit at the motion. Byleth reached out to steady him, hissing softly at the stress it put on her arm. “No, lost it in the river. And my axe as well it seems.”

Byleth thought rapidly. There was no telling how far away they had been swept downstream. The easiest way back would be to simply follow the river, but if there were more bandits, they were likely to be close to the only water source around for some miles. Claude without weapons was not good. Byleth without her sword arm was not good. She gritted her teeth and handed the sword over to Claude.

Her friend blinked at the weapon shoved into his hands before looking up at her in confusion. “Byleth?”

“I can’t use it with my arm like this,” Byleth said, nodding toward her shoulder. “But I still have my daggers. I’ll have an easier time using those in my off hand than I will the sword. And I’ve seen you practicing with Nader. You’ll do better with that than short blades.” The sword would also keep him at a longer reach from any enemy they might encounter. An adult could easily outreach Claude, but every little bit helped at this point. 

“All right,” Claude said softly, wrapping the sword belt around his waist. “Let’s get out of here.”

/

Mahtab clicked his tongue in disgust as he wiped his blade clean. The attack had been foolish and unorganized. In mere minutes the group of bandits were dispatched, their blood soaking the earth. Nader already had people moving the bodies away from the water so that the river would not become contaminated by their filth. 

He turned, intent to find his son, when the sound of more horses racing down the path toward them caught his attention. Mahtab readied his sword, Nader swinging his axe back into a ready position, as they turned to face whatever was coming. 

The sudden burst of adrenaline gave way to relief as he recognized Odette charging toward him on a bay mare. The rest of the royal entourage that had stayed behind at camp streamed behind her, all battle ready. Mahtab frowned when he saw blood on their weapons. 

Odette swung down from her horse, running the last few steps to her husband and quickly looking him over. “You weren’t hurt?”

Mahtab shook his head, doing his own once over of his wife. “What happened?”

“Goli had scouts near the wyvern breeding grounds that did not report back. She went to go check herself, and found her people dead,” Odette explained. “It seems the bandits were attempting to steal some of the royal herd, but only managed to piss them off. Goli saw the main group on her way back, heading toward you from behind. So, we came up from behind them before they could trap you.”

Mahtab smiled at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her quickly. “My beautiful warrior queen,” he whispered against her lips. 

Odette rolled her eyes, but did not push him away. Before she could say anything, however, Naima was beside them. Where are they?

Mahtab and Odette both frowned, heads whipping around to look for their son. There was only one ‘they’ Naima could be referring to. Mahtab’s heart pounded furiously in his chest as the seconds grew longer without sight of his son. “Claude!” he cried out. 

At his shout, several courtiers near him looked up in surprise, all seeming to realize that the prince was missing at the same time. The prince’s name was shouted, dead bodies moved aside to make sure he was not trapped. But Claude was nowhere, and neither was Byleth.

It was Naima who found Claude’s bow tangled in the reeds of the river bank. She had only to point before Odette was on her horse again, Mahtab not far behind. Behind him, Nader barked orders, splitting up trusted soldiers to join their king and queen.

Mahtab could only pray that wherever the river had taken them, they were together. Protect my son, Byleth, he thought, so desperate it came out like a prayer. Once more, please be by his side and protect him.

/

“Byleth, we need to do something about your shoulder before we go any further.”

Byleth paused and looked at her wound, studying it with seemingly uninterested eyes before nodding. Claude let loose a quick sigh, glad he would not have to fight with her on this. Together they peeled back the material soaked in river water and blood. Shamil once more emerged from Claude’s shirt, making high little chirps of concern as the wound was revealed.

“Shh, Shamil,” Claude shushed the wyvern. There could easily be more bandits around, and they didn’t need that kind of attention right now. The wyvern whined once more before wrapping itself around Claude’s neck to sulk. 

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Byleth said. She winced slightly as she poked at the three vertical gashes on her shoulder. “They’re not even really that deep.”

That was true, but the slow leakage of blood was still concerning. He took the waterskin from his hip and popped it open. He hoped he was doing this correctly. Healing had never really been a strong skill of his. 

“We don’t have anything to wrap it with,” Byleth pointed out.

Claude blinked, realizing she was right. All the had were the clothes on their backs and the two weapons Byleth had managed to hang onto. If they were out here for much longer they would need to find food, but Claude shoved that thought away. He needed to focus on Byleth right now. 

He handed her the waterskin and removed the scarf tied around his head. It was the least damp of all their materials. Claude reached out, and Byleth handed over her dagger without him having to ask. He cut a short length off, and used it to clean the gashes, pouring water over Byleth’s shoulder occasionally to help. The rest of the scarf was cut into a series of makeshift bandages that Claude did his best to wrap around the wound. The result was workable, but looked absolutely tragic.

He glared at Byleth as she fought back a smirk, the corners of her lips twitching upward. “Hey, I did my best,” he protested.

“You did,” Byleth agreed. “Thank you, Claude.”

Claude nodded and got to his feet. “We’ll need more water. I’ll be right back.”

Byleth’s face immediately became concerned, and she reached out with her good arm, her hand catching his. “Claude.”

“I’ll be fine,” Claude tried to reassure her, but he could tell the smile on his face was too forced. Byleth would see right through it. “The river is right over there. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Be careful. There’s most likely more than bandits in the area. And scavengers won’t be afraid to pick off a single child by himself.”

If anyone else said it to him, Claude would be offended. But this was Byleth, and he had grown used to her bluntness by now. Instead, he nodded to her. “I will.”

/

Shamil's surprised squawk was all the warning Claude had before someone was grabbing him by the hair and dragging him to his feet. 

"Well, well, look what we managed to find after all," a calm voice drawled. 

Claude immediately clawed at his attackers hands,  but the man shook him hard enough to make Claude's teeth clash together. He tasted blood and the back of his mind noted that he had bitten his tongue. 

"Enough of that now." 

Claude finally looked up at the man who held him. He was tall, with fine features and dark hair. His black eyes glinted in amusement, like a snake who had cornered a rat, with a deep scar running across his cheek. His clothes were something a merchant would wear, not a bandit. 

As the man leaned in, Claude smelled a cloying sweetness, a scent he had only ever heard described before. He didn't look like a tribesman, but the two men flanking him certainly did.

Claude struggled anew, but the man slammed him into the ground. The riverbank gave way beneath the harsh blow, and Claude splashed into the water for the second time that day, landing on his back in the shallows. 

There was a cry of outrage from another of the men and the high pitched screech of a baby wyvern, but Claude had no time to focus on it. The obviously not a bandit jumped into the river after him, shoving Claude's head beneath the water. 

He struggled, arms flailing and feet kicking. He managed to break through the surface a few times, taking giant lungfuls of air, but mostly ended up with water in his mouth and up his nose. The riverbed churned beneath him, dirt clouding the water and stinging his eyes. 

When his fingers wrapped around something smooth and hard, Claude did not stop to think. He slammed the object into the side of his attacker's head. The man's hands loosened, allowing Claude to shove him back. 

He aimed what he could now see was a smooth river rock for the man again, but he raised his arms to deflect Claude's attack. A swift kick to his side sent Claude sprawling in the reeds. Different hands grabbed him, lifting him into the air. Claude continued to lash out, managing to connect with something solid. There was a spray of hot blood over his face before he was falling forward. He landed on top of his assailant, and hit him again and again with the rock, fear driving him on even after the body had stilled beneath him. 

Someone uttered a word Claude had never heard before, but based on its tone he could only assume it to be a curse. Another hand grabbed at him, smaller and shaking, trying to tear him away. Claude shouted, screamed in Byleth's face as she pulled him to her. His mind briefly registered that her right arm hung limp and useless at her side, and there was blood covering her left hand almost up to her elbow. Shamil was wrapped around her neck, and squeaked in fear at the harsh noise that ripped its way from Claude’s throat.

That unfamiliar word was repeated, Claude's eyes snapping to the first man who had attacked him. But the man was not looking at them. He was staring further up river. He shot one last glance at the two children, calculating eyes weighing the risks. Apparently deciding to cut his losses, the man turned to run.

Claude could hear them now, horses hooves pounding against the plains. An arrow flew by them, catching the man in the leg. He went down on one knee, unable to move with the shaft pierced through his muscles. He snapped the arrow in half, pulling it through injured flesh, but by the time he stood on unsteady legs, the horses were on them.

"Chain him," a voice barked, one used to giving orders that were immediately obeyed. "I want him tied to one of the spare horses and on his way back to His Majesty immediately."

Basir stopped his horse in front of Claude and Byleth, looking them over with a critical eye. Claude knew the general was traveling with them, but had not seen him up close since Keveh had thrown up all over his tunic last year. Now, with a weapon on his hip and a storm in his eyes, Claude saw why his enemies had taken to calling him Storm's Fury.

"Looks like you're in one piece. Are you hurt at all, little prince?"

Claude bristled at the blatant disrespect, but kept his temper. He nodded sharply, but Basir was already dismounting, his eyes locked on the body they stood next to. 

Another horse drew up in front of them, Naima leaping from the saddle. Her bow was still in her hand, the feathers in her quiver the same color as the arrow that had pierced the not bandit. She immediately swept both children into her arms, moving back only to look them over. 

Are you hurt? she signed to both of them.

Claude shook his head, while Byleth tilted her shoulder toward Naima with a blank face. Naima’s quick fingers checked over Byleth, her eyes hard as she removed the makeshift bandages. She stood straight and motioned for someone to join them, only stepping away from Byleth when a young man joined them and began to look her over. White light glowed around his fingers, Byleth’s flesh closing shut beneath his touch. 

And you? Naima signed to Claude, genuine concern in her brown eyes. Are you sure you aren’t hurt?

Claude nodded. “No, Naima, I’m not hurt.”

“You can drop the stone, Your Highness.” Basir’s voice was still far from kind, but there was something resembling respect in it when he addressed Claude again. He stood from where he had been squatting next to body of the tribesman, stroking his perfectly trimmed beard as he regarded Claude. “Your first kill?”

Claude stiffened, but nodded. It would do no good to lie to someone like Basir about something like that. “Yes, sir.”

Basir stared a moment longer before nodding sharply. A heavy hand landed on Claude’s shoulder briefly, making Claude’s heart leap. It was a small sign of approval, but one that caught him completely off guard. 

And then the weight was gone. Basir’s voice boomed out once more. “Gather these bodies to take back with us. Five minutes, and then we leave.”

Claude found himself suddenly lifted up in the air, deposited on Basir’s horse before the man swung back up in the saddle. Next to him, Naima was doing the same with Byleth, the healer helping them due to her injured arm.

“Let’s get you back to your parents,” Basir said, his deep voice causing his chest to rumble against Claude’s back. “The Queen looked like she was about to scourge the entire plains if we didn’t find you soon.”

/

Mahtab reached them first, and if Claude was not so surprised, he would be annoyed that so many people were simply picking him up and dragging him around today. His father’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him off Basir’s horse. Claude found himself crushed against his father’s chest, Mahtab’s strong hand on the back of his head.

“Claude,” Mahtab breathed out, relief palpable in his voice. Claude could almost swear he heard the edge of a sob at the end of his name. It frightened him. “I was so worried.”

“Claude!” His mother’s voice echoed across camp, followed by the pounding of her feet as she ran toward them. “Claude!” Odette wrapped her arms around his husband and her son, pressing kisses to Claude’s forehead. 

He was at a complete loss. More than anything, his parents’ actions enforced what he had gone through. They had never held him like this before, never showed such concern. It was too much. He had survived an attack, killed his first man, almost lost his best friend, and now he was simply confused. 

/

Byleth sat up when she heard the tent rustle, knowing only one person would be lifting the back of the canvas than entered through the front flap.

“Is your arm going to be okay?” Claude asked as he climbed onto the sleeping cot next to her. Shamil, separated from his master since they were rescued, uncurled himself from Byleth’s pillow and leap into Claude’s arms. The wyvern made happy little chirps, covering the prince’s face in licks with his rough tongue.

“It will be,” Byleth answered, glaring down at the sling that cradled her arm. “I’ll have to wear this for at least a week.”

Claude winced for her, shoving Shamil down. Shamil, however, was not about to be stopped, and ended up licking Claude’s eyeball. “Ugh, Shamil! Yes, I love you too. Please calm down!”

Shamil whined, but settled for curling up around Claude’s neck, giving occasion licks to Claude’s cheek. Byleth covered her mouth with her good hand, stifling a giggle. Claude’s eyes went wide, and he stared at her as if he had never seen her before.

“What?” Byleth asked, hand dropping away from her face.

“I’ve never heard you giggle before,” Claude said in wonder. 

“It’s not that strange,” Byleth muttered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his gaze.

Claude was silent for a moment, before apparently deciding to let the topic go. (At least for the moment. Byleth had no doubt it would come back around sooner or later.) “I think someone organized those tribesmen against us. For the most part, my father has left them alone. And I don’t think they’re stupid enough to attack a fully armed royal contingent unless encouraged, even with a mad wyvern on the loose to distract us.”

“You’re so sure they were tribesmen and not mere bandits,” Byleth pointed out, before quietly waiting for an answer to her statement.

“It was the man who led the ones that attacked us by the river, I smelled his breath when he tried to strangle me,” Claude explained quietly. “The tribes to the southeast brew a special beer, supposedly very strong, that leaves the drinker’s breath smelling of day old flowers. It’s exactly what his breath smelt like.”

“But he isn’t a tribesman,” Byleth counted. “So, you think he is part of those who organized the effort?”

Claude nodded, stroking Shamil’s snout. “Not a very important part. They never would have let anyone like that be put in a position to get caught.”

Byleth nodded back in agreement. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

“Well,” Claude said evenly as he curled on the cot beside her, “we need to figure out who is willing to attack us, and who might have influence over the southern tribes.”

Byleth frowned as she settled in beside him. “I feel like there will be more overlap between the two than you are expecting.”

Claude shrugged. “Probably, but it’s a place to start. And we’ll keep an ear out for anything Goli and her crew might find from the man they brought in.” He sighed, unconsciously leaning into Byleth’s warmth. “It’s too much to hope it’s simply my uncle and stupid cousin, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Byleth answered simply. “And if it was, Kadir is too smart to leave any trace of his involvement. Keveh might let something slip, but Kadir isn’t about to entrust anything like that to his son just yet.”

Claude sighed again and closed his eyes. Byleth stared at him for a moment, letting the silence of the night linger around them, before reaching out to pet Shamil. “Are you really okay?” she asked.

Claude’s eyes opened slowly, looking much too serious for a boy so young. Byleth knew the answer before he spoke. “Was that the first time you’ve killed someone?”

“Yes,” she answered with her usual straightforwardness. 

“It feels...odd,” Claude continued after a long silence. “I don’t feel bad that he’s dead, but it doesn’t feel like it all the stories we’ve been told. So many warriors come home and brag about how many enemies died upon their blades. It’s this grand thing, something to be celebrated.” He paused again, twisting the corner of her blanket as he gathered his thoughts. “What if they’re right? What if my Fódlan blood makes me weak?”

“If you were weak, you would not have done what needed to be done today,” Byleth pointed out. “You’re blood has nothing to do with that. And besides, what would your mother say if she heard you insinuating she was weak?”

Claude blanched at the idea of an upset Odette. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the woman was unmatched when it came to weilding an axe. “What about you?” Claude asked. “You don’t seem upset that I insinuated the same thing about you.”

Byleth tried to shrug, but winced as pain lanced through her right side. “I know you don’t think I’m weak. You’ve looked up to me for years now.”

She could not be sure with how dark it was in the tent, but Byleth was pretty sure Claude was blushing. “Oh, shut up,” he mumbled into her pillow, turning to bury his face.

“Claude? Are you in here?” Odette’s voice came from the front of the tent. A moment later the flap was thrown open and the Queen entered, raising a lantern for light. She frowned softly when she caught sight of the two of them curled up together, but there was a kindness in her eyes as she walked to the cot. “Claude,” she whispered, brushing his hair back with gentle fingers, “if I let you stay here will you promise to get some rest?”

“Yes, maman,” Claude answered. His mouth opened in a large yawn for extra effect.

Odette just shook her head, leaning down to kiss her son’s forehead. “Just this once,” she whispered. 

“Thank you,” Claude answered back, which only caused Odette’s smile to turn sly.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” she teased. “I’m not the one who will have to deal with Nader’s snoring all night.”

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

Next chapter I will have a link to a list of all the ocs appearing in this fic. I know I'm introducing at least one or two a chapter, so I wanted to give you guys a convenient way to reference everyone.

[angelcorebabyowo]

Title: Honeydew

Warnings: Brief mention of suicidal thoughts

Summary: Lydia, Johann and edward get ready for a party and it's all OOC because yeah

"I don't even want to go!" Johann complains adjusting his poet's shirt and flopping down into the window bench with a huff as Lydia just as quickly starts to brush through his unkempt hair, he even closed his eyes whenever the strokes got gentler. He typically didn't go to parties unless he was performing and he, sadly, wasn't invited to do that this time. Honestly, the only reason he agreed to go was that it was considered rude to ignore an invitation from the mayor so he felt as if there wasn't really even a choice. Maybe he should just fake sick to get out of it, that wouldn't be all that bad, just a simple little head cold.

He sighs softly and leans back into his sister so that he wasn't jerked around as much, he was a bit tender-headed so it made it easier on both of them now that he wasn't wincing every three seconds. "It'll be perfectly fine babes, don't stress so much. You'll get gray hairs if you do it too much." Lydia warned with a small grin, her unnaturally sharp canine teeth looking unnatural amongst the normal ones. A few years ago she dragged everyone into sharping them but she continues to do it every time they run down even slightly. It would be weird if she didn't make it look so damn good " Although I bet you'd love that, huh?"

"Oh, you better believe it" Johann joked sticking just the tip of his tongue out of his mouth by habit. That wasn't a lie, he always fantasized about the thought of having grayish-silver hair at a young age and everyone in the family knew it and would make fun of him at every chance they could. He knew it wouldn't be a good look or actually enjoy it but it still made him laugh every time so he didn't really think that far ahead on the subject. His dad had gone completely grey by the time he was 30 and Edward, his brother, was starting to already so signs of it at the ripe age of 16 so it was possible that he could develop early on as well. "Could you imagine me being completely grey by my 20th birthday? You'd have to start calling me sir in a sign of respect!"

"You get no respect, none" Lydia laughs and stops brushing Johann's hair for a quick second before starting to do the very loose twist with her fingers. It was one of the easiest hairstyles she knew that could be done in half an hour or less. "Put it in a bun or just leave it down? Either way, it's getting twisted because I've already started."

"Maybe in a bun? " He mumbles leaning more onto the window and looking out at the city the setting sun was hitting just perfect to cast a somewhat orange and pink glow on the tops of certain buildings.  He assumed his apartment complex was one of them do to the height alone. He sometimes wanted to just sit on the ledge and watch the sunset that way, one false mood and he would plummet ten stories down before landing in the pool below. He wondered if he'd still be alive by that point. 

"A buns always a safe option." She whispers interrupting his thoughts and gently putting his hair in a bun before taking a step back to look at her handiwork "Its a little high but I think you should be good. That way it's nearly a safe bet, not one person would recognize you." 

"Do you think Avi would still recognize me though?" Johann questions as he looks into the vanity mirror and puts on a fix inspired mask. He forgot why he picked a fox, maybe do to their cunning abilities or something along those lines. He'd picked it out when he first got the invitation weeks ago so all memories seemed to just fade from him. 

"Avi would recognize you even if you didn't have a face or hair, now stop being a love-stuck puppy and both of you finish getting ready. " Edward interrupts walking into the room. How no one heard him walking down the hall with the obnoxiously loud heels was beyond everyone. He was also wearing his mask already. A cream scaled one with a few black scales mixed into it as it added ' Flavor '

'Snake' was the first thing that came to Johann's mind whenever he first saw it all those weeks ago, and even today his mind couldn't stop from going to that place no matter how many times Edward insisted it was a dragon inspired one. Johann still wondered what kind of snake it would even be, maybe just a simple corn snake. Edward wasn't that mean, after all, he wouldn't pick something venomous after all. 

"I am ready." Johann insists pointing to his outfit, the only thing he had to do was change into some dress pants and he'd be off to go.

"I was talking about both of you. More specifically Miss. "I'll do it later" over there," Edward says, he had a point after all. Lydia wasn't even remotely ready to go at that point. Her hair was pulled into an over-the-top and eye-drawing hairstyle and her nails were done to perfection, but other than that her clothes were just basic pajamas "go get dressed before we leave you at home." 

Lydia smirks before patting Edward on the cheek in a taunting manner. "Talking mad shit for someone who got his license suspended."

"Johann can! Right, you can still drive?" Edward questions flopping down onto Johann's bed with a loud sigh as the bed creaks under the new weight. He winced at the sound but overall didn't say anything about it. 

"I'm 15 years old and haven't even taken the exam yet" 

"Didn't ask how old or if it was legal just asked if you knew how."

"I refuse to let either one of you drive my car," Lydia says before walking out of the room to actually go get ready knowing that the other two would actually leave her behind. 

"Our car!" Edward calls before leaning over and closing the door fully and sighs loudly again before laying up against the headboard already messing up his golden capelet and neon blue shirt. He really couldn't stand not being the center of attention for a single second, he always dressed like that so it wasn't that far of a bet after all. "We have ten minutes before it starts but you know the saying-"

"Arriving fashionably late is better than arriving on time, shows how little you care."  Both of them say at the same time although while Edward sounds cheerful Johann just sounds even more tired then he always does as if he was trying to drag it out for as much as he possibly could. Johann sat at the vanity trying to figure out how he was going to cover up the bags under his eyes that, even with the mask, were extremely prominent. he eventually just settled on leaving them there as it seemed to add character to the entire look. (He was going for a renaissance era poet who just lost his husband due to some mysterious illness. He seemed to actually be hitting all of the points except for the crying but no way was he going to cry in front of people.)

They sat in silence now, it wasn't awkward, in fact, it was more comfortable than anything. Edward was doing something on his phone and Johann was trying not to have a panic attack because he was actually going through with this while struggling to fit pants that were a little too tight on. Alright, so maybe it wasn't all that comfortable but it was close enough to it. 

After about 20 minutes Lydia rushed in with a smile wearing bother her outfit and mask on. It was a multi-colored short yet puffy dress that fell off the shoulders and a mask that looked suspiciously like a peacock with the number of feathers that seemed to be hastily glued on. "All they had at the store was the plain ones so I had to glue the feathers and sequins on myself so now it looks as if a 3-year-old designed it!" she complained before going over to Edward and promptly laying down on top of him with an over the top sigh. "Woe is me."

"Well whose fault is that L? We offered you to come with us weeks ago but Noooo, you needed to wait till the last second like some sort of troublemaker," Edward says pushing her off and then promptly standing up and rubbing his eyes slightly and throws the keys he had been hiding in his pockets to Lydia with a pout. 

"Off we go come along little children!" Lydia says before walking out the door again, the sound of her boots echoing through the mostly empty hall. The only thing in them was a few paintings of fruit painted in over the top and crazy colors and a single statue at the end of the hall that they won at an auction a few years ago for like a thousand dollars,

It wasn't worth it.

"We're the same age!" Johann argues running after her trying to put on some of his slip-on shoes as he walked. It didn't fit the look but no way was he also going to wear heels, that was pushing it too far for him at best. 

"Stairs or Elevator?" Edward askes whenever all three make it out of their apartment building and into the main hallway "I'm taking the stair because no way am I getting Vored by an elevator"

"Stop being so mean to me!"Edward whines but gets in the elevator anyway with a pout and it started to go down, Lydia was babbling about how much fun tonight would be and her brothers both groaned in unison. 

"That's baby talk. Grown-men take getting eaten like a champ." Lydia says with a small laugh before hitting the button to take them to the main lobby "Johann baby, what are you taking?"

"I'm already in pain so I'll just take the elevator, fuck walking down 10 flights of stairs. "Johann says pushing his way into the elevator and gently holds on to the railing. "Ed gets in here, I refuse to sit next to you if you walk down down disgusting!"

If this was going to happen all night then what a fun one it would be. 

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Reliving An Old Nightmare - Chapter 9

<= Chapter 8

Summary : Snatcher learns more about his current situation, featuring an insolent brat. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/22337299/chapters/54869914

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hello! Here's the ninth chapter! First of all, a huge "thank you" to Krekka01, who corrected it!

I hope you'll like it, and I can't wait to publish the next chapter already! (I still have to write it first, ahaha)

Happy reading!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Chapter 9:

Snatcher had always found teleportation to be one of the easiest ways of moving around his forest. It had been one of his many powers as a ghost, though he had had to eat a few dozen souls before he could use it; however, teleporting as a human, using the kid’s alien technology, was very much different. First, it wasn’t as “fast” as his own method, since he had the time to feel his body moving very quickly in an empty space, yet without the usual draft caused by the movement. Second… it was an extremely awful sensation, contrary to his own teleportation technique.

As soon as the transportation ended, his body violently hit the floor, leaving him lying down on something soft, eyes shut. His mind was hazy from the sudden shock while a wave of pain engulfed him. Why did he have to suffer so much? Hadn’t he had enough already? With his injured hand and legs, it was-

The spirit stopped thinking immediately as a horrible thought came to his mind: he couldn’t feel his legs anymore!

-“Snatcher!” The child’s voice broke the silence and helped him to clear his fuzzy consciousness. Alarmed by his lack of sensations in his lower half, the shade slowly opened his eyes. A groan left his lips; he felt like someone was hammering his brain, again and again and again. His vision was blurry and the room was dark, yet he could still perceive the brat’s silhouette next to him.

-“Snatcher, are you okay?” she asked again, in a much more anxious tone. Her loud voice intensified his headache and he raised his right hand to silence her.

-“Yeah, yeah, shut up, I’m still alive...” He managed to keep an “unfortunately” to himself, even if it would have been pretty funny to say, considering his own situation. However, his entire body froze as he caught sight of his hand. It was purple… Just like his old one, the one he used to have when he was dead.

Ignoring the sharp pain, he straightened up and took a better look at himself: he was no longer in his old human body! He lowered his head; no wonder he couldn’t feel his legs anymore! He didn’t have any at the moment! Just the old purple tail, like usual.

The spirit couldn’t help but laugh at the thought: as if things had been usual lately! But, finally, he was back in his old spectral form.

-“Oh, thank God,” he said, both groaning and sighing at the same time, more than relieved. He tried to float again, moving his tail at the same time but stopped immediately when he felt something unpleasant. It… hurt.

“What the…?” he thought, confused. He tried to move his tail again, only to wince when the pain increased from the movement. Ghosts weren’t supposed to feel pain! Yet, here he was, clenching his spectral teeth. What was happening? Next to him, the kid was watching him silently, probably oblivious to what was going on in his mind. But then, his vision cleared up.

They were in the child’s spaceship, in the main room more precisely. The room was dark, only illuminated by a single screen. Now that he had regained his spectral body, he could see things perfectly, even in a poorly lit room. The ghost examined his surroundings: the floor was covered in shards, all coming from broken screens. When he first came into her spaceship (back when he made her sign the death wish contracts), he had always seen them on, showing things in a language he couldn’t understand. Now, they were all broken, except for one of them, which was the only thing preventing the room from being pitch-black. But the screens weren’t the only damaged things. Most of the glass balls on the mezzanine were shattered as well, and the green ladder had fallen to the floor. The doors were off, not displaying the usual lit drawings. The instrument panel was damaged, too, and one of its pipes had detached from it, hanging on the side from where it was supposed to fit. All the indicator lights were off, just like the panel in itself, more generally. A burnt smell emanated from it, a clear indicator of it malfunctioning.

And regarding what was outside of the spaceship… it was only a pure black void, nothing like the space he had been able to see through the window pane before. There were no more stars, no more visible planets… Just nothing. Snatcher couldn’t help but feel intimidated by it.

-“Hey, kid,” he started, still looking around them, “you threw a party here or what?”

The child snorted, while her face softened, leaving most of her worry behind.

-“Pff, no,” she replied with a small laugh, before continuing with a more serious tone. “Well, it’s because of the Time Rift. This one is much more powerful than the usual ones, and it’s a little too powerful for my ship.”

The ghost turned to the girl, staring at her with a perplexed look.

-“What do you mean ‘it’s too powerful’?”

-“Well…” Her eyes fell to the ground as a wince appeared on her face. It was enough to tell Snatcher that whatever she was going to say wouldn’t be good for both of them.

-“Remember when I told you someone had used a Time Piece to create this pocket dimension? Well, it’s not supposed to happen. There have been theories about that, back on my home planet, but no one had ever actually managed to create anything like this. My ship isn’t made for that kind of situation.” She pointed to the broken control panel and continued. “I was in space when it happened. I was able to enter the Void before the Rift closed itself, but not without breaking things in the process.”

It was a little too complicated for the spirit to understand. While he could learn and recite entire law books, this was a bit too abstract for him. He had been stuck for years in his forest, far from any technologies other than what he had seen from his victims. It was no wonder he had trouble understanding what she was saying, even though he could grasp the main ideas most of the time.

-“So…” he replied, gesturing to the window, “The Void? That’s where we are?”

-“Yeah. It’s a little hard to explain, but…” She was about to continue but interrupted herself as she seemed to realize something. “Wait, what about your hand?”

The ghost simply laughed at her.

-“Kiddo, I’m a ghost again. Spirits can’t be hurt,” he said, omitting an “only in very specific situations”.

-“Are you sure?” The ghost didn’t get the time to answer as she came closer and took his left hand in hers to examine it. In any other situation, Snatcher would have smacked her hands away, telling her that she must be dense to insist that much; however, as soon as the child touched his hand, a pained cry escaped his ghostly lips.

-“Ouch! Ouch, ouch!” The brat lifted her head to look at him, surprised by his reaction. But the shade was even more shocked than she was.

Ghosts weren’t supposed to feel pain. And that’s when Snatcher realized that he had been able to feel the softness of the floor, to smell the burnt scent of the damaged control panel. He shouldn’t have been able to. Dead people lost their senses of smell and touch. So, if he was back in his old body, why did he still feel them? Why did he feel pain in his non-existent legs and in his spectral hand? This didn’t make any sense!

-“I thought ghosts didn’t feel pain?” retorted the little girl with a cheeky smile.

-“Oh shut up, will you!” He took his hand back, inspecting it. Just like his human hand, there were red stripes, and his purple skin was bluer than usual. The shade had never seen anything like that, in both his life and afterlife. This wasn’t good. Spirits weren’t supposed to be affected by such injuries. Was his spectral body still linked to his human one? He couldn’t see any other explanation, yet it didn’t make much sense either. Why would his bodies be linked to each other? The ghost had no idea what to think at this point. Time travel had never been something he was good at and it was much worse when it came to space-related subjects.

-“For starters, why am I back in my old body? Aren’t we still in the Time Rift?” he asked, frowning in confusion.

-“It’s…” She grimaced, trying to look for words. “Let’s take care of your hand first, I’ll explain after that.”Snatcher scoffed at her :

-“Take care of my hand? Kid, I’m dead. What exactly do you want to cure?” His tone must have been a little too sarcastic to the hat-wearing brat, as she pressed his hand back into hers, causing the shade to freeze instantly, clenching his teeth not to let any sound come out. He glared at her, though it did little to intimidate her, as she just smiled innocently.

-“You brat…” he grumbled, before giving up, too tired of everything to fight back. “Okay, fine, let’s take care of a hand that shouldn’t need it!”

The kid smiled at him even more and let go of his left hand.

-“Great! Come with me to the kitchen!”

The ghost lowered his eyes to the broken ladder beside them. How was she going to get up there if there was nothing to-

He didn’t get the time to finish that thought as the kid gathered speed and rushed forward. She jumped on the wall and caught the ledge of the mezzanine as if it was nothing. Right, she could do that. How could he have forgotten about her weird abilities? She sure was a strange kid, though he supposed he prefered that rather than a crying and useless one.The little girl turned back to him, gesturing him to follow her:

-“What are you waiting for?”

The ghost simply rolled his eyes and let his body leave the ground, floating higher and higher. The pain intensified in the meantime, but he did his best to ignore it, let alone show it at all. He had had enough of people pitying him like the dumb prince he used to be. It didn’t take him very long to join the kid on top of the mezzanine. She then opened the kitchen door and shifted on the side to let him enter. The room was dark and it was even messier than the last time he had been there. Usually, plates lied around, barely cleaned up. The sink was always full of dishes and the fridge wasn’t even properly closed! But now… plates were shattered on the floor, the contents of all the kitchen cupboards were splattered everywhere, the paintings had all fallen to the floor, and the fridge was completely open. All the lights in the room were off, and the shade could see the broken glass of lamps on the floor. His own face was the only source of light in this pitch-black room.

-“I know you have a problem with cleaning, kiddo,”Snatcher remarked, “but it really seems like a hurricane hit your spaceship.”

-“You’re not very far from the truth, honestly,” Hat Kid replied, smiling sheepishly. “When my ship entered the Void, it was pretty… intense. It shook everything up.”

-“Again with that ‘Void’ thingy?”

-“I’ll explain, I promise! Just…” She took his injured hand again, though much more gently than before. “Come here.”

The hat-wearing brat led him to a wooden crate, one that was in the same place the last time he could remember. She let go of his hand once again, and ran to the sink, trying to open the tap. However, she facepalmed when no water came out of it.

-“Ugh, of course, no power, no water!” Her frustration made Snatcher smile; seeing that was the best thing happening in his day so far. Though, said frustration didn’t linger long on her face, as she seemed to have an illumination. She clapped her hands together and started to look for something in the cupboards, throwing behind her whatever didn’t correspond to what she was searching for. The ghost almost got hit, but quickly avoided the object that was thrown at him. He was about to complain about that but he was cut short as the kid brandished something proudly.

-“Ah-ha!”

It was a bottle of water. The ghost’s confusion increased even more.

-“Uh… You know I don’t need to drink or eat in that form, right?” he questionned, wondering if the child had gone even stupider in the last few minutes passed in his company. She ignored him and picked up something that was lying in one of the corners of the room: a saucepan. The proud look on her face intensified and she smiled even more as she fiercely put the pan on the crate. The shade was just staring at her, trying to understand what she was trying to do, in vain. It was only when the girl filled the saucepan with water that she facepalmed herself once again, this time with both hands, groaning lengthily.

-“What now?” Snatcher couldn’t help but feel more and more annoyed with the present situation. He crossed his arms, careful not to touch the injured part of his left hand.

The girl lowered her hands, looking at him with eyes suddenly full of inspiration.

-“Wait, do you still have your powers by any chance?” she asked.

-“Uh…” That was a very good question, one which he didn’t know the answer yet. “What for?”

The little girl pointed to the saucepan filled with water.

-“If we want to cure your frostbite, or at least make it less painful for you, we have to put your hand in warm water. But since my spaceship has not much power left, I can’t heat up the water. So… I was wondering if you could do that with your powers?”

That… did make sense. Or, at least it did in that extreme nonsense that was their whole situation. He shrugged; he could still try. Though, he couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious; he could feel and smell things, even though he shouldn’t be. What if he still didn’t have his powers? He could float around like before, yes, but that didn’t mean anything. At this point, it was hard to be surprised.

-“I guess?” he answered, unsure.The kid took the saucepan and held it up for him to place his uninjured hand underneath. The shade closed his eyes and tried to produce a little flame. It was one of the easiest things he could do usually, so if he couldn’t do that now… that meant he would truly be defenseless. He tried to focus as much as possible, searching for any source of power still left inside of him. Just when he was about to think there was none left, he felt something. There were still some traces inside. He felt his hand heating up and he reopened his eyes. The room was now illuminated by a purple flame, right between his hand and the saucepan. The kid was staring at it with admiration, before lifting her eyes to meet his.

-“You still have them!” the girl cried out. “That’s amazing!”

The spirit scoffed, looking elsewhere. He wasn’t used to be flattered, and he could feel a mix of unease and pride developing inside of him.

-“Pff, you find that amazing? Wait until we fight again, then you’ll be impressed.”

The little girl giggled,and soon, silence fell between them. A few minutes passed, during which the kid dipped the tip of her fingers in the water to check the temperature. After a while, she nodded and put the saucepan back on the crate, careful not to spill anything.

-“It shouldn’t be too warm. Put your hand inside, I’ll get paper and pencils in the meantime.”

Paper and pencils? What for? As if it was the time for colouring! The hat-wearing kid seemed to see his confusion, however, and added:

-“It’ll make things easier to understand. I mean, I could explain what’s happening in details if you want, but it’s going to be pretty complicated.”

The ghost rolled his eyes, more than exasperated. Well, she was right; all that time travel stuff was too abstract for him to understand, so he supposed that her idea wasn’t as stupid as he first thought.

-“Yeah, okay. Go fetch for your colouring book or whatever.”

The girl then left the room, not before promising to be back as soon as she found them. The shade wondered if she would be able to find them, considering there was no light in the ship, except for that screen in the main room. He supposed there had to be some power left to charge it, but then again, it was something he wasn’t familiar with.

Now left alone with his thoughts, he let his mind wander as his eyes examined the room once again. Even when it was less… messy, he couldn’t help but wonder how the child had managed to survive until now. Every time he had come to her spaceship, he had always thought that if he wasn’t the one to kill her, she would die on her own by her negligence; however, the kid was still very much alive at the moment. Snatcher guessed that she probably had more than one trick up her sleeve. He really hoped that it would be the same for the situation they were in, because they surely needed it. At least, the ghost was back in his spectral form, which made him feel much, much better. In his human body, everything was so foreign, so weird. Now, even if he still felt sensations, he felt much more comfortable. Another good thing was that he still didn’t feel his “afterlife coldness”. After his death, he had always felt cold. When people died, they kept feeling things related to the way they perished, and Snatcher was no exception. Though, at the moment, he felt nothing like that in particular, which was quite a relief. It only reminded him of that moment, spent alone for days, months, years, he didn’t know.

He shook his head. There was no use in thinking about it now. He tried to focus on the warmness around his left hand. At least that was pleasant. He closed his eyes, letting his consciousness rest for a while. It was the first time in days that he could truly rest, and he would be lying if he said that it didn’t feel good. He really needed this.

It continued for a few minutes and then he heard quick footsteps coming in his direction. Snatcher reopened his tired eyes. Well, on the bright side, he did get at least one chance to rest, which was still something.

The door opened abruptly, as the child ran into the room, joining Snatcher as fast as she came in. She was holding something in her arms and put it down violently next to the saucepan, making the crate shake by the sudden shock.

-“Now we can talk!” she said, out of breath, probably because she rushed to come back. She spread out what she had just brought: coloured pencils and white sheets of paper. She then picked something up from the floor, handing it to Snatcher: candles. He lit them up and the kid placed them next to the sheetsSnatcher let out a sarcastic laugh once everything was set up.

-“Well, finally. So, this ‘Void’ thing you keep talking about, what is it?” he asked, leaning against the crate, as the brat took a light blue pencil in her hand. She put the nib down and started to draw, forming a circle on the surface.

-“This is where we are,” she said, writing something in the centre of the circle, in a language Snatcher was unable to read.

-“You know I can’t read what you just wrote, right?” It took several seconds before the kid frowned, realizing her own mistake. She then handed him her pencil.

-“I can’t write in your language. I can only speak it. Write the translation underneath, it says ‘Time Rift’.”

Snatcher stared at the pencil for a while, frowning as well before a scoff left his lips.

-“Kid, I’m left-handed,” he retorted in a mocking laugh, nodding to his hand underwater as he spoke. The kid closed her eyes and took a deep breath, now frustrated again. The ghost grinned at her, enjoying her distress. However, his fun ended when the kid handed the pencil back to him, insisting:

-“Well, try and become right-handed for a few minutes, because I really can’t write as you do.”

Both glared at each other, as a dominance fight started again between them. Unfortunately, Snatcher was still too tired to resist, and eventually took the pencil in his right hand. The object felt foreign in his hand as he tried to find a good posture.

-“One day, I will kill you,” he promised, mumbling in a low tone.

-“I know, I know, you’re my BFF too,” she simply answered, completely unaffected by his threatening promise. The shade put his wrist down on the crate and tried to write what she had just told him, right under what she wrote earlier. The nib shook a bit too much as he did so, since the action as more than weird to him. He still managed to form the words and handed the pencil back to his contractor, not without showing his discontentment, which was fully ignored.

They repeated this process for a few minutes. The kid added a purple circle, which she labelled “Master Timeline”, and wrote “Void” between the two circles. She then linked the two circles by two arrows, one yellow and one red, and added a crude drawing of a Time Piece next to them.

-“There!” said the little girl triumphantly.

The spirit only looked at the drawing with a frown on his face. He didn’t understand a single thing in this diagram.

-“So… do you mind telling me what I’m looking at, exactly?” the shade requested, irate.

-“Do you mind being patient for once?” she retorted, more and more annoyed with him.

She sighed and placed the tip on her pink pencil in the “Master Timeline” circle and started to explain, in a much more serious tone:

-“This is where we were when it happened. It’s the world as we know it, or at least the main reality we were in.”

-“Wait, there are other realities?” asked the ghost in bewilderment.

-“It’s a whole new subject, but yeah. It’s not important for our situation, though. What matters is that someone used a Time Piece to create a new dimension,” she continued, passing the pencil over the yellow arrow several times. “This dimension took the form of a Time Rift, the one you were teleported in. And the reason you’re back as a ghost now is because we’re not inside of it anymore. Following everything so far?”

The shade nodded, doing his best to understand what she was saying. He had to admit that the drawing did help him to grasp the explanations. The hat-wearing girl spoke again, this time pointing the “Void” with the nib of the pencil:

-“Now, you have to imagine that those two dimensions, ours and this one, are parallel to each other. And you have this ‘gap’ between them, as if they were two different things, far, very far from each other. Okay?”

-“And that space in the middle is the ‘Void’”?

-“Yep. It’s like very big and very small at the same time. The laws of physics don’t apply there, so you could make several steps and have moved forward by a mile, just like you could walk for hours for nothing. It’s very different than what we’re used to in our own dimension. But it’s only theories, as the Void would kill anyone spending more than one second inside without protection.”

Snatcher squinted. This was a bit too abstract for him, though he supposed that it wasn’t too important at the moment.

-“The Void is the empty space between all Time Rifts and all realities. Usually, my ship uses… warps in the Void to enter Time Rifts, because it’s way less risky that way. As I said, the laws of physics don’t apply there, and my ship isn’t made to resist those distortions very long, especially when they’re too different from our laws. So it’s better to find passages that are similar to our own reality, so my ship can handle the trip safely. But…” she gestured to the room with a sad look on her face. “As it was an emergency, I had to enter the Void as fast as possible. As you can see, it wasn’t without consequences.”

-“Wouldn’t it have been better to wait for those ‘warps’ you told me about? I mean, if just entering this void-y place caused so many problems for your spaceship…”

-“Well…” Her eyes fell to the floor as she continued. “That would have been the smartest choice, yes. But time isn’t consistent between all dimensions. One second can correspond to a year in another reality, and… we kind of have a countdown problem, too.”

The spirit felt his fear coming back to life, as he saw the child avoiding his eyes, with a worried expression painted on her features.

-“What do you mean by ‘countdown’?” he asked, already afraid of the answer.

The brat remained silent for a few seconds as if she was trying to gather the courage to speak again. Eventually, she pointed out the “Time Rift” circle once again.

-“There are two kinds of Time Rifts. Most of them are stable and don’t cause too many problems. Others, not so much. This one is part of the unstable ones. And…”

-“And?”

She was definitely uncomfortable, and Snatcher’s insistent question surely didn’t help. But, when she found the courage to talk again, Snatcher felt his non-existent heart stop beating and sink into his chest.

-“All unstable Time Rifts are bound to implode after a few days, at least in best-case scenarios. This one is no exception. We have four to five days until the Time Rift collapses, taking everything inside it in the process. The thing is… I can’t fix my ship fast enough. There’s too much damage, and even if we’re not killed by the Rift collapsing, the oxygen reserves of the ship won’t hold very long after that. Though I guess it’s more my problem than yours, since that… you’re already dead, you know.”

Snatcher’s body froze as he tried to process everything, one fact after the other. A feeling of dread settled over him as he slowly realized what the kid was saying.

-“You mean… That we’re stuck here no matter what?” he asked quietly, not wanting to believe that everything was vain from the start. It couldn’t be!

And all that because his ex wanted to live in the past again?! She had just doomed all of them!He was interrupted in his train of thoughts as the kid replied to his question.

-“There is another way out of here.”Those words were enough to catch the ghost’s interest right away, as he straightened up immediately.

-“What is it?”If he had thought the kid was uncomfortable before, now it was very much different. She didn’t seem to know what to do with herself, as she hunched her shoulders, looking everywhere but where Snatcher was. She knew something and it was bad. Even the stupidest person in the world could see that. But what could be worse than either dying with a whole dimension or remain alone in a spaceship with a little girl’s corpse for eternity? Though, the latter would be very appealing in any other situation.

-“What. Is. It?” he pressed, looming over a small body in a way he hoped threatening, even though he knew better.

She took a deep breath and replied quietly.

-“We have to find the Time Piece used to create this dimension. It’s the only way to reverse everything. That’s why I was searching for time anomalies in the first place; since it’s not supposed to be here, anomalies tend to appear near it.”

The ghost felt like this solution was nothing compared to what she had just told him before. That was all they had to do? Piece of cake! However, the look on her face told him there was much to this story than just finding the Time Piece. And, after thinking about it a little, he quickly understood why she was making such a face.

-“Oh God. It’s in there, isn’t it?” he asked with a groan.

The child nodded silently, understanding instantly that he was talking about Subcon Manor.

-“I knew it!” He hit the crate with his fist, pure rage engulfing him entirely: “It’s her, I knew it could only be her!”He clenched his spectral teeth, wanting nothing more than to kill something at the moment. He felt the water heating up around his hand, only to realize he was the one warming it up in the first place. Reluctantly, the spirit tried to calm himself; he didn’t want to burn his own hand since it would probably be affected by it in his physical state. His own magic wouldn’t burn him, but boiling water would.

The hat-wearing brat shook her head.

-“I don’t think Vanessa is the one who used the Time Piece,” she affirmed, yet in an unsure tone, probably more because she feared Snatcher’s reaction to her claims.Said reaction came almost instantly:

-“Are you kidding me?! Of course she did! She’s the only person who could want to use it!”

-“No, what I mean is… I don’t think she even has the knowledge to use it to create a whole dimension. No one on my planet did, and yet we do know how Time Pieces work.”

The shade stopped moving. A feeling of anxiousness settled over him, as he started to understand what his contractor was implying. He stared at her, both bewildered and confused, as he rephrased her assumptions:

-“So you think… someone else is behind all of this?” he questionned, gesturing to everything around them. The little girl shook her head once again, and continued, in the most serious tone the ghost had heard coming from her:

-“I do think she is involved… but I also think she’s not the mastermind in what’s happening.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hehehe, sorry, I ended the chapter on a cliffhanger again! I hope you're still interested in this story! I can't wait to see your theories about the next chapters.

Until then, see you and take care! :)

=> Chapter 10

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Never play with food for too long

TITLE: Never play with food for too long

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Oneshot

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being a soul eater. Souls have different flavors according to the emotion the victim has towards you. Your favorite is love so you woo every victim. But if you fall in love with someone, that person has control over you. 

Loki knows what you are, plays with you in attempts to control you but he ends up falling for you.

You continue (with or without knowing of his knowledge) nurturing the relationship because the more he feels the sweeter he will taste. Imagine you fall for him because he actually woos you…

RATING: M

NOTES/Summary: Female Reader is a soul eater and on the hunt for a heart wanting affection. She finds Loki who takes all the affection reader has to offer. His soul becomes so sweet that she wants to wait to consume his soul for a more satisfying meal. However, she waits to long and she ends up playing a dangerous game once she falls in love with him.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I used the songs by Billie Ellish to help my muse get this done. "Bad guy." "Burry a friend." "All the good girls go to hell."

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

LENGTH: About 1,700 words

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

I just finished my last meal.

Thankfully love and sex tend to go hand and hand so I have been well satisfied. I looked over the ring before adding it carelessly to my collection. A lock box with dozens of engagement rings, I shut it with an annoyed sigh. This game was over but a smile pulled at my lips as my eyes caught my appearance.

Beautiful with a special glow to the skin. I never look sickly just a normal Midgardian at my most hungry state. However, after a good meal I look like a goddess. With my magic I fixed my dark cherry red hair into loose curls, makeup up with smokey eyes and maroon lip stick. I wore long sleeved mini dress and leggings with of course, heels. My black stiletto nails glimmered in the light. With a once over I was satisfied and had a feeling I was going to get a good catch tonight.

I looked around the city for a little broken heart that needed some mending. I was about to just go to the usual same bars for groups drinking their sorrows away. There is always someone there who needs a little affection. I just wanted something...different, challenging.

Then I sensed it, a heart yearning for acceptance in such a large amounts my hunger spiked with excitement.

There was a big blonde getting pictures with others and a breath taking beauty of pale skin and dark hair. I went to him with a smile of my plan pulling together. He was familiar and I swore I knew him. I kept walking to him and when he said "hi" to a woman passing by him with a weird look. I felt his energy dip even more.

I cheerfully said "Hello" while holding up my phone. 

He gave me an odd look but I felt his energy rise in excitement.

"Loki right?"

"Yes." He smiled with charm, "you want a picture?"

"With your number too." I winked at him and received a bigger smile. I got close to him and I was glad when he pulled me to him as well. I held the phone up and clicked pictures. He let me go and I choose the best one to show to him. "Do you like this one?"

The cocky smile excited me. "So much you are going to have to send it to me."

I gave him a coy smile. "Then I need your number good looking."

I got his number with a little heart, marking him as my next target in my contacts.

"Are you busy now or would you like to go somewhere?"

Loki's eyes went to Thor walking away with a few people. "I am free to do what you want."

I grabbed his offered arm. "Lets go to this cafe, only a block away, they have the best drink selection."

"Sounds good Darling."

We went to the cafe. Had a good drink. The conversation was nice and about how he loved to read. His energy was making me hungry but I held off because this was going to be so much better in a few days.

We agreed to meet at the cafe for a few days and then he took me to a nice dinner. Then more nice dinners followed with little gifts a month later. He was starting to put off so much delicious energy I could absorb it like a refreshing drink. He was the most delicious sweet energy I ever came in contact and each passing day he got even better. 

Loki was unique and I have never experienced anything like him. Flowers and chocolate for most of the dates. Sometimes a new piece of jewelry but every date he showered me with compliments. He was always a gentleman, opening doors and offering me his arm to walk.

It was another date night and we were in my place still since he was picking me up.

"Hello Darling. You look absolutely stunning."

"You are the stunning one. I can't help but appreciate how put together you are all the time." My eyes went over his form.

I gave him a kiss and sipped on his energy. It made me eager for more but I wanted to wait. His amount of energy kept me satisfied and kept my appearance glowing.

Loki had a dazed look to his eyes for a moment. "Your kisses are always breath taking."

I teased, "Am I the best you have ever kissed?"

Loki smiled. "You are the only one I will ever want. There is something about you that draws me in."

I gave him a smile back and gazed into his eyes. "Something keeps me with you as well."

Of course there was a charming smile. "My dashing good looks?"

I got closer to him and hugged him as I whispered in his ear. "No Loki. Its how much you care about me." Then I laughed lightly to ease his insecurities, "your appearance is very satisfactory."

Loki held me tight to him. "I love you."

A grin took place on my face in a victory. Then I nuzzled into his neck then up to his face. I talked into the kiss. "Let me show you how much you mean to me."

I pulled his tie to me as I kissed him. My hands went to his shoulders to ease his jacket down as he unbuttoned the front. His hands went to my hips to pull me onto his lap. 

His mouth was skilled as it worked along my neck. His hand went under my dress and slowly rose to my inner thighs. I moaned once his fingers gently stroked my heat. His mouth worked agonizingly slow as his hand but it felt so good. Not many meals took their time due to the crazy love instincts flooding their minds. This was a nice change and how much sweeter he became, I let him take his time.

I was a panting mess after the first mind blowing orgasm from his finger alone.

I felt as if I made it to the holy golden gates when his tongue got involved.

I called out his name in ecstasy as he kept a continuous wave of pleasure all over my body.

Once he finally connected to me it was nothing I have ever experienced. He was so delightful and I swore I have never tasted a meal better than this. No one put off this much affectionate energy. 

The way his hips rolled against mine, his lips attached to my neck and hands holding mine had me moaning like it was the only sound I ever known.

"Loki, kiss me. Please kiss me!"

His lips travelled to my face and I was upset this wonderful hunt was coming to an end.

"Say you love me."

I almost said the words.

No. I was in denial because there is no way it was possible. 

This was dangerous now.

I moaned as his hips started to get erratic. 

I turned us over and began to ride him. As I went to kiss him he turned his head.

I kissed along his neck and begged. 

"Please kiss me. I need it."

Loki smiled with a side glance to me. Then that cocky smile… "so you can drink my soul?"

I paused, no, I froze in place. 

Loki got on top again. "I knew all along. And now you are all mine."

"Thats not possible." A strained moan left me as he worked my body to another completion. The words right on the tip of my tongue but I kept asking for a kiss. I needed to have his soul before I admitted it. 

Why was Love my favorite flavor? It couldn't be fear? Being scared was known to be the easiest flavor. I feared nothing but this moment. I lost control of myself because I played with my food too long. 

Would it be so bad to have a master? 

Loki husked in my ear. "Say it."

He pushed me over the edge again and I screamed my defeat. "I love you!"

Loki's satisfaction was groaned in my ear as I felt full from his own ending.

I panted for a while as my control went to Loki. Now I was his to do whatever he needed.

Loki rolled to the side and I followed to lay on his chest. His heart and mine beat the same. Our life forces mixed together and both at his control.

I was worried he wouldn't let me but I stated the obvious. "Loki. I still need to eat…"

"I know but atleast I will know I am the only one you will ever love." He kissed my head, "I know I have plenty for you to live off of. Say you love me."

I smiled as I said the words and his energy flared. "I could get used to this."

[leovevo]

featuring: @cindyeggers​​  mentions of: @rhcdesx​​, @romanwalsh​​, @rileyyxkim​​, @marcodiangelo​​, @sureivan​

the video starts with leo arranging the camera, before flopping on the couch. leo: "konnichiwassup, guys! welcome back to my channel! today, we'll be doing a q&a with a very special guest." he waggles his eyebrows at the camera before gesturing for cindy to seat on the spot next to him, "welcome, welcome!"

cindy: literally jumps onto the couch, throwing up double peace signs, "sup y'all! i'm arizona blues of... can i say it on your channel? i don't wanna get you demonetized." she makes a jerk-off motion instead, "this is the only clue you're gonna get."

leo: nodding, leo turned to the camera with a knowing look, "she is, like me, a content creator, and if you've been on other streaming websites besides youtube, then you definitely know her. so, before we get into the main course..." he grabs the makeup kit from the coffee table in front of them, "to make this q&a a wee more interesting, i'll be putting makeup on ari and make her look even prettier while we answer your questions!"

cindy: "hell yeah bro fuck me up," she says excitedly, turning towards leo as a good little canvas. "so what kind of look are we going for today?"

leo: "something glamorous, obviously. maybe a glittery, pink look?" he rummaged through the bag, face instantly scrunching up. "the fuck is this? where do i start?"

cindy: "you're asking the wrong person, broseph. good luck," she says as she grabs a random product and tries to figure out what it's supposed to do. at least it's shiny. "anyways, while leo mua here figures this shit out, should we just get into the first question - what's the number one thing you want to do at the resort?"

leo: "i'm sure we have to start with foundation. but your skin's clear enough, and i don't want to choose the wrong shade." he pulls out a brow pencil. "okay, we can start with your eyebrows." he scooted closer to cindy, uncapping the pencil and beginning to... well, thicken cindy's brows (rather roughly). "eat. eat loads. and just bask in the sunlight 'cause i don't get much of that anymore. how about you?"

cindy: “so what you’re saying is that my brows suck,” she teases, but she sits still and lets him do his thing. “i was gonna say troll people but honestly, i’m gonna tag along with you on that. food is the answer.”

leo: once he was finished, he pulls away to examine his work. alright, they looked fine. just... a little thicker than usual. "like, we're staying in bougie-ass houses, and we get to do whatever we want. it's the life." he tosses the brow pencil back in the bag, before pulling out a random palette and some brushes. "next question! do you see a future with anyone on the sloth?"

cindy: "it's the shit," she concurs, oblivious to her new thicc brows. "uh, this sounds like it's asking me if i want to like, get married and have babies with someone. which, nah i'm good. but i'm gonna take my bromance with ivan to the grave. and i'm also gonna harass kieran forever."

leo: "the question is too ambiguous, so i'm going to worm my way around it. i'd really like to grow old with roman, kieran, and riley." he silently motions for cindy to close her eyes, before experimentally skimming a hot pink shade across her lids. it was pigmented as fuck. leo grits his teeth. "d...don't know what i'd do without them."

cindy: "god you're such a coward," she tells him, her eyes closed while he undoubtedly stains her poor eyelids for life. still blissfully unaware. "that's cute though, i can respect that... why do you sound all weird though? are you gonna cry?" she blindly reaches out and starts touching his face to check.

leo: he gingerly attempts to tone down the colour with his thumb, only smudging it and making it worse. "yea, no, there was just, uh, fallout from the palette." inwardly panicking, leo dabs on a darker shade (red) to her eyelids. oh no. ohhhh no. she looked like a cirque du soleil cast member... only with... shitty makeup. "third!" deciding not to ruin the look any further, he sets the palette down, reaching for the eyeliner. maybe he can salvage it with a classic wing. "do you believe in forgiveness?"

cindy: "what kinda philosophy shit is this," she says with a confused huff, no longer able to ignore leo's frantic smudging, "what's going on? what are you doing to my face?"

leo: "you're not allowed to look until i'm finished!" he retorted, "i'll do your eyeliner now. come on. answer the question."

cindy: "that's like the least comforting thing i've ever heard," she replies, but she lets it go because... if nothing else, it's probably good for the views, "i guess i do believe in forgiveness? like, if we're being real i've needed it sometimes so, yeah? but i also think it's fair to just snip snip, cut people out of your life so. depends. i don't fucking know, leo."

leo: this was a difficult question, but he was so focused on trying to draw a good wing that he couldn't sugarcoat his answer. despite so, his hands were trembling. he hopes cindy doesn't snip snip, cut him out of her life for fucking her face up. "i think it's important." he whispered, eyes narrowing in concentration. "i just suck at forgiving."

cindy: "i get you," she nods in agreement, realizing too late what she's done. despite all of leo's efforts, her movement sends the eyeliner out of its path and up towards her forehead, "shit i'm sorry.”

leo: at the disruption, he lets out a scream, "NOOOOOOOO!" was it ideal to throw a tantrum in front of the camera? not exactly. but he had been doing SO well! "wwwwhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"

cindy: "I'M SORRY," she yells, grabbing a concealer from the kit, "can't you just like... paint this over it? it's fine, look..." without grabbing a mirror (because the rules forbid it) and with absolutely no idea what she's doing, she starts applying concealer in arbitrary areas.

leo: "no! NO!" leo shrieked, taking the concealer away because now she was getting concealer in her eyebrows, which he had worked so hard on! "no, no. sit there and relax," he insisted, "it's fine. we're fine. you're fine. let's move on." all leo had to do was to slap some lipstick on cindy's face and finish the job before it could get any messier. he grabs a random shade—all of them looked similar and started to apply it on cindy's lips. "who is the one person you would kick out from the sloth? wait, we already answered this question in your video, which i am not allowed to link down below because... well, of reasons..."

cindy: tries to answer but because leo is putting lipstick on her, it's more of a series of sounds than words. when he finishes, she purses her lips, "i think we did but... fuck it, i'd also kick out that victoria girl just to see what she'd do about it."

leo: "she'd kill you, probably. i'd still kick marco out. we're almost done with the makeup," he laughs nervously. the lipstick looked clean enough, though. thank god. "i'm gonna finish it off with some o' these," he raised up a blusher, "and, uh, i'll..." he trailed off, smearing it slowly across her cheeks. cindy looked like a straight-up clown. "last question: you are about to get into a fight, what song comes on as your soundtrack?"

cindy: "i've never felt more beautiful," she says, but only because she's the only person who has no idea what he's done to her face. "shit this is the easiest one. it's clearly gotta be that one that goes like..." she starts singing horribly off-key, "i don't give a damn about my reputation. the one from the tournament scene in shrek 1."

leo: "okay, okay, that's valid," leo laughed out, putting all of the makeup back in the kit and stowing it away. "mine would be the walmart fight song." he could feel his palms getting sweaty, "okay. uh." he slid the mirror towards cindy. "feel free to... take a peek at your look of the day."

cindy: "also a valid choice," cindy agrees as she grabs the mirror and comes face to face with her new clown self, "how did you even achieve this look? i look like shit leo." she looks at leo, then at the camera with a mix of amusement and true horror. "by the way," she adds to the camera, "we didn't tell you guys but.... i said i'd wear this for the rest of the day."

leo: relieved that cindy took her spankin' new look rather well, he visibly relaxed. "you're still smokin' hot, don't worry," he pinched her cheek, accidentally getting some blush on his fingers. "shit. well!" he looks at the camera, giving a thumbs up. "aaaaand that wraps up our q&a, thank you for humouring me—us, miss ari! anything else to add before we head off to the mall?"

cindy: "uhh, like and subscribe or whatever," she mumbles as she grabs the eyeliner and meticulously sketches out a penis on leo's cheek, "50,000 likes and leo will eat a live octopus." leo: "arigathanks for watching, everyone," he said, staying still for cindy. "check out mtv's sloth in paradise—as well as my channel—for more content!" cindy: "yeah check us out or else," she throws another round of peace signs and gets off the couch, "later dickface."

[p4lparker]

Practice Makes Perfect;

                                                  The Proposal…  

               After you’d made the decision, you needed to think of how to actually ask the boys. Now that was the only thought you had rattling around your brain as the three of you travelled to the bar- the shipment was coming in midday, so if you wanted to swipe a keg for the kick back that evening you’d need to do it soon. John B was steering the Twinkie along the roads smoothly- you held the passenger seat and JJ was star-fished in the back, the sun beating through the windshield and hammering down on your skin. Sunglasses rested over your eyes as you watched the young Routledge manoeuvre the vehicle; one of his large hands and dextrous fingers wrapped loosely around the wheel, the other one resting on his lap, tapping out the rhythm of the song playing from the speakers. Lips mouthing along with the words- wild and salted hair flopping away from his face, eyes narrowed as they concentrated on the roads ahead. Freckles more prominent from their constant exposure to the bright sun, bandanna ever present and tied around his neck loosely. You knew that staring at him like this was weird, but you couldn’t help yourself- he truly was gorgeous. As if feeling your intense gaze; he turned his face towards you, eyes questioning but lips smiling all the same. You returned the smile weakly, thankful for the car seat beneath you- your knees would have surely buckled otherwise.

               Shaking your head- jeeze, if you couldn’t deal with a smile from John B how could you ask him or even try to convince him to have sex with you; it was a good job there was a kegger tonight, maybe the liquid courage would help you. The twinkie pulled up a short distance from the back of the bar; delivery truck parked there also. You looked to the mission leader; who slapped JJ’s knee alerting him he was needed, before turning back to you and tilting his head- a charming smile in place, as JJ’s head bobbed in between the seats close enough for you to smell the weed clinging to his breath.

               “So… what’s the plan here?” John B asked, eyes glancing between you and JJ- you bit your lip and tried to think of a plan of action, JJ tapped a finger to his lip and John B rolled his eyes at the pair of you. “So we don’t even have half a plan and we need to grab a keg asap… awesome..” he muttered tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel in contemplation- he turned and grinned at you, eyeing your clothing and then putting on the puppy eyes and pout.

               “Oh no… what did you have in mind John B? I feel like I’m not going to enjoy this….” You whined, following his eyes to the jean shorts sitting at your hips and the bikini top covering you- JJ tuned his head and copied the pair of you before laughing and holding his hand to John B to high five. You rolled your eyes and cringed as the brunette patted your shoulder.

               “Use your womanly wiles Y/N… Distract him and me and J will steal the keg, when its in the bus just bail and that’s it..” John B stated, as if it was the easiest thing in the world- you could feel our head shaking mouth open like a fish, not entirely sure you had any womanly wiles. You turned to JJ who smirked and winked at you and pointed to the delivery truck in front of you all. You sighed and ran a hand through your salted hair. John B could sense your reservations and began fluttering his eyes at you; clasping his hands under his chin and puckering his lips into a pout- JJ copied his actions and you crumbled, they had to know how cute they both looked right now, and you hated to admit it even to yourself- but it was like kryptonite. You nodded shakily and breathed out in a slow puff of air before reaching for the door and leaving the safety of the bus- before trudging to you ultimate humiliation. This was a trick you’d seen Kie pull a hundred times over, but you were 99% sure you’d fail miserably and let your boys down. With one more look over your shoulder, you could see them grin and give you encouraging thumbs up, you rolled your eyes and continued to the truck- when you were within hearing distance you let out a small cough to cover the boys getting out of the bus. At the sound of your approach the delivery driver turned to you, you pasted a small smile on your face.

               “Hey.. Sorry to interrupt and all, but I was just uhh wondering if you’d help me?” you asked, nervously ruffling up your hair, walking backwards from the truck slightly- your eyes widened as the driver eyed you up and down not so subtly- a predatory grin slipping onto his features. You could see JJ waving you off from behind the driver- barely nodding your head, you stood a little straighter when the guys eyes devoured you, you stepped away from the truck- internally freaking out. You wandered closer to the edge of the road lined with trees, eyes glancing all around you trying to think of an excuse- eyes focusing on a poster on a phone pole a few feet away. You stopped and turned to see the guy behind you- he moved his eyes to yours quickly, having been enjoying the view. You tried not to gag and looked over his shoulder to see the boys creeping up to the truck.

               “It’s really not a problem, what can I help you with?” he asked, smiling in a way he thought was charming- but he had nothing on JJ or John B; the way those boys smiled should be against the law. You chuckled nervously.

               “I was just wondering if you’d seen a dog run past? I was trying to get him back into my car and he bolted.. guess he saw something more interesting..” You stated- trying to think of how Kie plays this normally, lifting one hand to awkwardly twist in you loose hair, and pouting slightly. The man stepped closer to you, you had to stop putting more space between you when he did.

               “I’ve tried calling for him and everything… I’m just super worried about him, he’s only a puppy…” You stated, grasping at straws as you tried to keep the drivers attention. The man agreed quickly, and he began scanning the trees nearby. You smiled gratefully when he looked up to you, he continued to scan- you looked behind him and gestured wildly to JJ and John B; they were trying to get a keg from the back of the truck without alerting the driver, JJ shook his head and waved his hand at you- motioning for you to carry on.

               “So what does your dog look like? What’s his name and everything? The more information I have the more I can help the damsel in distress…” the man mentioned, smiling in that way again, you could feel your skin crawl as his eyes focused on your chest once more.

“Umm Buddy? He’s a um Golden retriever, big eyes, cute as hell but not too bright…” You stated eyes flickering to JJ and John B behind the driver- they were almost done just about to close the doors to the bus. You panicked as the driver began to turn, so you quickly placed you hand on his chest- grabbing his attention again.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” You asked quickly, biting your bottom lip- drawing his gaze there. It was as you heard the boys pull up beside you, you sighed out a breath and let your hand drop as soon as JJ slid the side door open for you. Taking a few steps backwards to the bus, you began your retreat and the driver looked more than upset as he spotted one of the kegs in the back with JJ. Your eyes widened and you waved for John B to start driving and you’d catch up. As you jogged backwards trying to ward the man off as John B picked up speed, JJ holding an arm out the side for you to grab when ready.

“You know what… I totally forgot I don’t even have a dog… !” You yelled out as you caught hold of JJ’s hand and he dragged you- poking your head out the door, you waved and blew the driver a kiss as you yelled out “Thanks again!” JJ and John B whooped and laughed loudly- JJ slamming the door shut as you collapsed on the floor, hands covering your face as you felt the waves of humiliation wash over you.

“That was amazing!” John B laughed out beeping the horn and blasting the tunes as the three of you peeled away from the crime scene.

“I don’t even have a dog… !” JJ mimicked you laughing until your stomach hurt. You shook your head and grabbed the Juul from his pocket breathing in the relaxant and waiting for the redness to leave your face.

“I don’t know how Kie does that all the time… It was so awkward and creepy!” You whined hiding your face in your hands again as JJ poked teasingly at your reddened cheek.

“Nahh Y/N, you did good.. Kie can take a break from distraction duties from now on!” John B called out turning his grinning face to you momentarily before focusing back on the road. As you pulled into John B’s drive, you spotted Kie and Pope sitting on the porch waiting for you al to get back. The five of you talked and laughed as you took the keg and other essentials down to the boneyard- you regaled each other with tales from the day; John B and JJ taking great pride in retelling how you distracted the driver for them to steal the very keg they were carrying, as they did they made the whole situation sound better than it really was. You rolled your eyes as Kie wrapped her arm around your neck and repeated John B’s words from earlier.

 The kegger was in full swing- red solo cups filled to the brim with contraband beer or some other alcohol. A bonfire in the middle- keg a little ways off being manned by JJ and John B. You gulped some of the sweet drink Kie had procured for you both from some kook or another. You looked around you again as she dragged you more to wards the bonfire- which seemed to be where everyone was dancing and mingling; JJ and John B filling up cups of tourons and flirting with them shamelessly- the tourons blushing madly and giggling. Pope was a little ways off sitting on some drift wood- talking to a girl, who actually looked interested as he chatted to her, you had no doubts he was talking about pathology again. Kie grabbed your and pulled you towards her and began dancing with you to- you watched the groups of girls and boys grinding on eachother- laughing when Kie mimicked them; throwing it back on you as you danced along. You felt hands on your waist tugging you back into a sweaty chest- Kie stopped dancing and stood abruptly as you were dragged away from her. She settled back to dancing against you as you hips were swayed between her and the person behind you- looking down you saw an adornment of rigs glistening on familiar fingers in the fire light. JJ pulled Kie closer to and in turn you closer to him. Th group danced some more, Pope and John B joining in- each pulling you and Kie into spins and dips- Kie and Pope doing the foot dance form TikTok while JJ pulled you back to him again one arm around your waist, his other hand holding a Juul to your lips for you to toke on. John B danced in front of you, his face low in line with your chest as you shimmied in front of him, his head following- you gripped his chin, pulling him up to full height before trying to push his face away as you blew out the smoke- he laughed and inhaled what he could before stealing it from JJ’s hand and taking a hit himself. JJ tried to protest- but ultimately cheered as John B placed it back between your lips, you in turn took a hit and then passed it back to JJ.

Kie suddenly came spinning back to you, pulling on your hand so you were back to back with her and the pair of you shimmied and swayed your hips together; Pope hyped you both cheering and doing some fancy footwork around you both, JJ and John B whooped joyfully as you all had a blast. You could feel the weed and alcohol giving you a real buzz- you swayed whether you were dancing or not, and gestured to the group to sit down, they followed you in a konga line all the while laughing until you all collapsed on the driftwood seating. You rested your head on Kie’s shoulder and sipped on your drinks- which you’d been refilling and probably had, had too much of already- watching as the boys settled around you both; Pope settling in front of you, shoulders between your legs and head resting on you, JJ across from you trying to blow smoke rings and John B sitting beside you- resting an arm around your waist and nestling closer to you. You all laughed and joked, just enjoying eachothers company with no touron or kook action- and you felt content, this was your happy bubble; booze, weed, your best girl and your best boys. You rubbed one hand in Pope’s hair as Kie leaned in and placed a kiss on your cheek. JJ howled joking about girl-on-girl action, Kie rolled her eyes, flipping him the bird and then gripping your chin and pulling your lips to hers- kissing you gently. When she pulled back you both laughed at the shocked expressions Pope, JJ and John B were all wearing.

“Holy shit…” Pope exclaimed before putting his face in his hands. Kie laughed more raucously- she was always a happy and affectionate drunk, you never really knew what she would do next. You looked over to JJ who was smirking at you, eyes sparkling in the low light- your cheeks heating up as he watched you.

“Huh..” John B murmured, hand squeezing your waist. “On that note.. Best kiss go… !” he said pointing to Kie who giggled.

“Y/N obviously..” she laughed before moving onto wistfully talking about how every kiss was the best one- as each moment was special. Pope told you all about a touron from last summer; who stayed for a few weeks and the pair hung out ‘casually’, his eyes lingering on Kie as he spoke- not that she noticed or would remember tomorrow even if she had.

“Scarlet Masters…” JJ stated, puffing his chest and grinning like the devil. The group of you stared at him and waited for him to elaborate- his grin widened. “Couple of weeks ago, mowed her lawn- guess she wanted to see if it was true what they say about us dirty pogues…” JJ bragged cockily, leaning back and taking a toke on his Juul. John B, Kie and Pope all cheered. You just laughed rolling your eyes. John B went on to say it was, like Pope, a touron from a couple summers passed. The group turned to you- and you fried to focus. Your mind racing through memories; not that you macked on a bunch of people, but you’d had your fair share of macking- but you drew a blank, not being able to pick out one particular kiss that made you want to reminisce. So that’s what you told them; Kie looked heart broken- you thought tears would appear in her eyes soon, so you smoothed her hair out of her face and smiled gently at her, Pope shook his head wildly not wanting to believe it, JJ boo’ed at you and threw a handful of sand your way- most of it landing on Pope, John B just stared at you with an eyebrow raised. The innocent question soon turned into a game of ‘Best…’ everyone taking turns; and all too soon it was asked, ‘Best hook up’. You bit your lip and listened to them all- Pope being more shy about sharing, but he’d had a lot to drink- you could ask for anything and the kid would give it to you. JJ spoke for what felt like eternity- one ‘best’ after another. Kie spoke about the differences between partners; talking about the passion, the yearning and teasing- it almost made you blush as she spoke about the pros of sleeping with girls and boys alike. John B just said it was some rando from the mainland- not giving any details. The group then looked to you, you looked down at the sand you were burying your feet in- refusing to look at any of them as you shrugged- not wanted to say it out loud, when you looked up Kie pouted at you. You brushed your lips against her cheek in comfort.

John B looked penseive, his face carefully compromised to not reveal his thoughts. Pope looked like he wanted to interrogate you, JJ noticed this too and began to regale the group with more of his bedroom tales, Kie scoffing and throwing her empty cup towards him- before feeling guilty and going to pick it up and place it in the recycling bin close by. The part was beginning to wind down- a few other locals helping the five of you tidy up the mess you’d made. Once the beach was clean to Kie’s standards, John B lead you all back to the chateau. You had one arm wrapped around Kie’s waist- one of her wrapped around you- Pope latched onto the other side of her. John B heading up the group, a hand held out behind him holding your loosely- and JJ bringing up the rear. You turned your head to look at the blonde- he was being too quiet, you noticed he was hanging back before grinning wildly at you before charging forwards and grabbing onto your waist dragging you from Kie and John B- swinging you around until you were laughing loudly with the rest of the group after getting over the initial shock. He span you to face his back and bobbed down- beaming over his shoulder as you jumped up and got situated on his back; arms wrapping around his shoulders loosely as your face rested in the crook of his neck- his hands gripping onto the back of your thighs holding you fast to him. He ran to joi the rest of the group, John B taking your previous place next to Kie- JJ ran you both past them all. As you dashed by- you let a hand fall behind you and gripped onto the cap that was resting on John B’s wild hair- he tried to grab for it as you teased him, placing the cap on your own head in a similar fashion to how he usually wore it- blowing him a kiss and tossing him a wink JJ cheered you on. Kie and Pope laughing along. John B smiled gently at you shaking his head and ducking it down slightly.

Eventually you reached the chateau, Kie and Pope flopping onto the pull out- John B waltzing to the kitchen to grab some more beers- JJ still had you wrapped around him and he didn’t seem to mind. Traipsing round the main room with you still held tight against his back- you laughed the entire time. John B handed the beers round you all- as he passed one to JJ, who tapped on your thigh with his fingers gently you dropped from his back and went to sit on the table legs crossed shoes kicked off and sipping on your beer contentedly. John B leaned against the table next to you- leaning an elbow on your shoulder and flicked the peak of his cap smirking at you. You just grinned back. JJ flopped onto the floor in between Kie and Pope resting his head on the pull out behind him, sighing as Kie’s fingers found his hair and began twisting the tresses gently. The pogues all sat chatting idly and nursing your beers until Kie announced she was sleepy and she snuggled down further on the cushions pulling Pope with her. As she manoeuvred, she accidentally knocked JJ with her foot- he exclaimed but stood still and made his way to the bedrooms. Kie made grabby hands towards you and you smiled before dropping a kiss to hers and Pope’s foreheads- both smiling dopily and closing their eyes to sleep.

“Pssst!” John B whispered across the room, nudging his head towards the direction JJ had taken. You followed wrapping an arm around his waist you both shuffled to his room- laughing when you saw JJ sprawled on the bed. John B scoffed and hit at his foot as you leaped on the bed and got comfy. John B rolling his eyes as he joined the pair of you- the usually large enough bed soon felt cramped with all three of you situated on it. JJ twirled a piece of your hair around his finger absently as John B twiddled with the fingers on one of your hands- you all stared at the ceiling above, staring at the star charts there. You were all comfortable, chilling; all of you boosed and buzzed nicely. And you thought ‘Fuck it…’

“I want to have sex!” You announced- as soon as the words left your lips, you almost regretted them as the pair of boys both stopped their fiddling and turned to you. JJ choking on his breath, and John B raiding his eyebrows so high you wondered if they would ever settle back to their normal state. JJ coughed, trying catch his breath looked at you with wide eyes.

“What?” he asked once he had calmed down enough, you let your eyes scrunch shut. This seemed so simple earlier, when you hadn’t told them about your plan and had just decided it would happen- but now they were actually involved and it made you anxious.

“I wanna have sex…. With one of you guys. I know you’ll treat me right, and show me all the things. The sex things… I’m just sick of being horny and a virgin ya feel?” You stated your unoccupied hand coming to rest over your burning face.

“The sex things… shit…” JJ muttered one of his own hands dragging through his own hair. He couldn't take his eyes off you- his fuzzy mind trying to process what you'd just said. You felt like curling up and dying in a corner- you flushed from head to toe and desperately tried to think of a way back from this.

 "What about the rules? No pogue on pogue macking.." John B murmured, his head turned fully towards you as he lifted your hands from you tomato coloured face. JJ rolled onto his side and stared at you too. You puffed out your cheeks.

 "Well... it wouldn't really be macking? It’d be like when you taught me to drive the Pogue or when J taught me to surf, ya know?" You whispered, mortified. You were regretting ever bringing it up, regretting ever thinking of it in the first place, like it was a stupid idea. Of course neither of them would want to have sex with you, the rules were there for a reason- an innocent friendly peck here and there didn’t break the rules, but sex would definitely break them. You turned your head and looked at both boys, either side of you- JJ was frowning and staring at you, you tried not to shrink under his stare. John B had a poker face on- his eyes though were stormy, thoughts tumbling around his brain. You whined and rolled over onto your stomach- burying your head in the pillow. Trying to fight the stinging of your eyes- ignoring the fact that you were crying about this. Maybe that last beer was one too many.

____________________________________________________________________

 At some point you must have fallen asleep, because when you next rolled over- the sun was blazing through John B’s shutters. You groaned pitifully to yourself and tried to gather the strength and will power to move from your pit of despair. A laugh from further within the building, the smell of food wafting through- urging you to move, so you did, eyes finding a discarded shirt from the floor and pulling it on to cover your body some more- your bikini top and shorts not feeling all that comfortable any longer. You waddled your way to the main room in the chateau; eyes catching on John B and JJ as they both sat up straighter when you entered. You coughed nervously and moved around the room collecting the bacon; obviously delivered from the Wreck, and a bottle of water from the fridge. You could feel their eyes following you, and the silence was setting you on edge. You turned to the boys and glanced at them, bottom lip between your teeth as you nibbled on it anxiously- wondering why they were watching you like an animal in the zoo. You took a bite of the bacon and tried not to groan at the feeling of food entering your body; you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until that point.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” JJ  asked, staring you down as you choked on a mouthful of food- you coughed and spluttered as you wracked your brain trying to understand what he was asking you. It was a hazy memory, but one you couldn’t quite forget- you remembered exactly what he meant, you dropped the bacon to the plate and grabbed up your water bottle to try and take a swig. Swallowing slowly to try and sooth the irritation of your throat- your eyes fluttered around the room. JJ looked anxiously at you; his big blue eyes widened, eyebrows raised lips pouted slightly. John B leaned against the wall, hand on JJ’s shoulder- eyes sparkling but face mostly passive. You sighed running a hand through your matted hair- trying to buy yourself more time. Did you mean it, yesterday you had decided the course of action- but then when it came to telling them it felt like the earth was swallowing you up. And now- well, you weren’t sure, you knew you wanted to have sex; you had needs god damn it! But did you really need to involve the boys in your quest to pop your cherry? They didn’t give you much of a response the night before. Which made you feel worse.

“Umm… I guess. I mean I wanna have sex… but if either of you don’t want to.. then I get it, it was super weird of me to ask…” You started out strong- but their combined penetrating gaze making you feel small. JJ nodded, before looking at John B- shrugging his hand off his shoulder, he crossed the room in quick strides and grabbed you up within his arms. And before you could fully comprehend what was happening his chapped lips were pressed to your own. One hand tangling in your hair and the other pulling you close to him. You gasped into the kiss when his lips began moving against your own- his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, seeking your own. Opening up to him, he slipped his tongue to meet you, caressing over your own. Tangling in a dance that was beginning to kindle a fire within. Your hands came up to wrap around him, as one of his large hands came to hold your jaw- angling you face to deepen the kiss. You could feel the breath leaving your body, your knees weakening and a lust bubbling under your skin. The hand resting at your waist squeezed tightly- wrinkling the fabric of the soft, borrowed t-shirt you were wearing, his fingers slid towards you thigh- gently stroking over the smooth skin there- a light moan leaving your lips and JJ chuckled against you- his chest rumbling with the noise and he pulled back, leaving gentle pecks on your lips softly before pulling away completely and peering in to your breathless face. You breathed deeply, trying to regain some semblance of control- you were still wrapped around JJ as a second pair of hands tugged you away and settled you in front of their body.

You looked up into John B’s sparkling eyes, the light smirk playing on his inviting lips. You hadn’t quite wrapped your mind around what had just happened- but John B placed his hands on your hips and pulled you against him as he perched on the edge of the table; legs spread wide enough for you to stand between them- then pressed his lips against you. There was no rush; his soft lips smoothing over your own, gentle and languid- but that didn’t stop the heat bubbling under your skin. Your hands found his sun kissed tresses and you buried themselves there, tangling within and pulling the pair of you closer. John opened his mouth- teeth nipping at your bottom lip and suckling it between his own deepening the kiss. You moaned weakly and felt you body lean more into him as the recent events and current ones took a toll on you. John B’s lazy kisses became fervent- rushed; nibbling, sucking and teasing pushing and pulling you in to him. When he pulled away as breathless as you- you frowned trying to chase his lips, wanting them back. The boys both chuckled, the rumbling sound bringing you back to reality. John B’s hands still held your hips fast to him, and one of JJ’s hands brushed your hair from your face. You took a steadying breath and forced your mind to focus- which was harder than it should be, with John B’s hands holding you tightly, his and JJ’s kiss still burning on your lips. you pushed his hands from you hips and stepped away from the pair, trying to breath calmly.

Now you had some space, you could see the pair smirking at you; eyes twinkling at you, their lips plump and looking so inviting. JJ raised a hand and his thumb rest against his bottom lip- while John B clapped his hands and rubbed them together in front of him.

“We’re in…” John B stated confidently, arms folding over his chest- JJ nodding along emphatically and grinning wide. You gasped, eyes widening and nodding- letting your mind catch up. You were still kiss drink from them, a hand raising to rest on your forehead. You looked up and stared at the boys- they just stood smirking.

“There’s gonna be some rules though; we’re both going to help you, cause you didn’t specify who.” JJ stated gesturing between them both as you stood- still shocked but nodding nonetheless.

“We’ll go at your pace, and only do things with you when you say.. yes we’re teaching you, but this is on your terms.” John B stated, gesturing to you, smirk still in place.

“We don’t tell Kie and Pope about this, obviously..” JJ shrugged his shoulders, at the mention of their names you looked towards the pull out and sighed when you saw they had already left.

“Now we need to know what exactly you do know and we can go from there..” John B winked, he moved to the pull out and flopped down onto it, JJ copying his actions before gesturing you to join them. You settled between the boys and waited, you wondered whether the booze from last night was bad or something- cause none of this was making sense.

“Do you know what gets you off?” JJ murmured in to your ear, one hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder- lips dropping a kiss there as he waited for you to respond. You looked to John B beside you, who just shrugged, eyebrow raised. You breathed deeply, JJ resting his chin on your shoulder- you knew the theory and mechanics of sex; but hadn’t put it into practice, nerves bubbled in your tummy as you continued your train of thought. You’d watched porn, and 50 shades- you had used your fingers to ease your libido- you knew how to work them to work yourself to orgasm. But you’d never been touched by another person in that way and you’d never touched another in that way.

“I’ve watched porn before…” You mumbled, cheeks blazing- JJ buried his head in your neck, gently pecking the area. John B traced a finger up your thigh before dropping his hand on it and squeezing gently.

“It’s not realistic.. but a good place to start kinda..” the brunette murmured softly. “Have you ever gotten yourself off?” he asked, a delicate blush covering his tan cheeks- you on the other hand burned with embarrassment and the earlier lust beginning to trickle throughout again. You could only nod.

“That’s good, you know what you like, you can teach us how..” JJ whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending shivers through you- the boys both chuckling at your response. The blonde dropping a kiss to your neck and shoulder again before standing up and high-fiving John B- he winked at you and left the chateau- you and the Routledge boy alone- the silence within almost deafening. John B squeezed your thigh gently, ducking his head slightly to be face-to-face with you.

“You wanna try something now?” he whispered- watching as you bit into your bottom lip and nodded. He lurched forward and attached your lips together once more. He wasn’t slow and relaxed this time, he instantly pried your lips apart with his tongue and tangled it with yours. Kissing into you passionately, gently nudging you back to lie on the pull out- he hovered over you, pulling from your lips to kiss around your mouth, then lower discovering you neck like an unmapped land. You moaned as his teeth nipped at your skin- you could feel the grin he wore as he continued to assault your neck. He let one hand hold your jaw, and pulled back- he manoeuvred the pair of you to sit once more, his other arm trailing and resting around your waist- squeezing and lifting you until you were somehow straddling him.  You whimpered as he sucked and nipped playfully at you neck. You pulled back to stare at him; he was smiling wolfishly, eyes ablaze, lips kiss-swollen and cheeks dusted with a blush as he stared back at you. You untangled his hand from you hair- ghosting over your neck and the light marks he’d left- grin widening slightly- before plucking gently at the t-shirt you were wearing.

“Looks good on you..” he whispered, grin still in place- he was breathing deeply, and you took a moment to eye his torso; abs working slightly as he breathed quickly. He tilted your chin up and kissed you again- this time with no rush, it was languid and arousal seared through your entirety. His hands took up residence on your thighs, calloused fingers brushing the skin, pushing the large t-shirt up, you whimpered against his lips. He felt so good against you- soft lips kissing against you, hard muscle supporting you- your hand trailed to rest on his chest, it flexing against you hat palm- his skin hotter beneath it. Your body reacting to his lightest of touches- lips fusing together, panting into eachother’s mouths, as neither of you wanted to part. Your hips twitched on top of him, a shock running through your body as he moaned as the contact of your clothed cores rubbing a delicious friction for you both. He gripped onto your hips, fingers digging in, in an enticing manner; he held your hips and guided you over him. Grinding you on top of him, your whines and moans echoing throughout the chateau- his matching sounds slightly quieter than yours. As your body moved and rubbed against him in a tantalising way, one of his hands raised to traced the curve of your body- fingers spreading wide and resting over your ribs, just underneath your breast- thumb gently running along the bottom of you bikini top teasingly.

Your hand found his and cupped it around you, encouraging him to squeeze and tease you. He didn’t disappoint; squeezing gently, exploring the area, letting his fingers tease you hard nipple- pinching and flicking it. All the while your hips worked furiously against him, there was a pressure building within as you could feel him hard beneath; through your clothes, the material rubbing right against you clit in a maddening way. You worked your hips with more fervour focus, you could feel that overwhelming knot tying and twisting tightly within- fraying until it snapped, your climax washing over you forcefully. You moaned and buried your head in the crook of his neck- he panted beneath you, the pair of you trying to catch your breath and calm your racing hearts. The fire within you only burned on, as you could still feel him pressing against you harshly- you began moving your hips, slowly, you were sensitive and knew a second release wouldn’t take long. But John B gripped your hips tightly and stopped you movements, shaking his head.

“No, no, no- this is all for you okay? Don’t worry about me…” he chuckled, his voice deeper than normal- making you want to grip his head and kiss him into oblivion, you restrained yourself as he helped you to sit beside him. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to him. You two stayed cuddled together long after your racing hearts had calmed and you breathing had returned to normal, eventually he stood from the pull out, tugging you with him and leading you to his room before traipsing to the bathroom by himself. Your eyes caught on the bulge in his shorts making you blush- one he spotted and sent a wink to you. You laid in his bed and tried to wrap your mind around the happenings of the day. When John B appeared again, he had a towel slung low on his hips- making your mouth go dry, he searched for clothes and explained that you’d stop by your place to change and then you were going to meet the others for a day on the boat as usual. You nodded, more focused on watching him cover up his still damp body with an unbuttoned shirt, board shorts, backwards cap, converse and his ever present bandanna tied around his neck. He looked over to you, chuckling as he clocked the mark on your own neck, grabbing another bandanna; he tied it around your throat like his own. Dropping a kiss to the corner of your lips, smirking when he pulled away. He dragged you out of the chateau and to the parked bus- ready to start your day even though it was nearing the afternoon by this point. You both got settled in the Twinkie before setting off. ___________________________________________________

Taglist; @fobobozobo   @nikki082489

[make-it-mavis]

The Right Thing (pt 3 of 3)

Wreck it Ralph AU 4274 words Content warnings: drugs/addiction, discussion of overdose/death, brief/mild sensuality Characters: Turbo, Make-it Mavis, mentions of Maribo ( @nijimarii‘s OC )

Premise: Mavis is released from the hospital following an incident that she remembers little about. Her best friend, however, knows exactly what happened... and has a hard-to-hear idea on how to prevent it all from happening again.

>Part 1< >Part 2<

Leaving the hospital was a headache. Literally and figuratively. Alongside the dull, throbbing pain in her head, the process was a numb, nauseating blur of things Mavis was not in the mood for.

When she woke for the second time, it was to the sensation of a nurse laying another blanket over her. She was asked how she felt, and some weird trivial questions to test her lucidity. After some prodding, she answered honestly, and told the nurse her head and stomach hurt, that her eyesight was stained a faint blue, and that her brain felt full of dead ends.

The nurse brought her some generic hospital food to help settle her belly. She ate it quietly while Turbo pretended to sleep in his chair. He was not fooling her -- if he was not snoring, he was not asleep. Still, he would not respond to anything she said until the nurse came to let her know it was time to go home.

It was only as they were leaving that Fix-it Felix showed up, breathless and overjoyed to see her alive and well. He went in for a hug, but Turbo shoved him in the chest, which she quietly thanked him for. Having a guard dog against unwanted physical contact was pretty nice in general, but she felt particularly weak to defend herself that night. The arm around her shoulders as they walked out may have been a possessive one, but she found that comforting in its own right.

Felix apologized right away, of course, but proceeded to follow the two of them out of the game, yakking incessantly. He went on and on about how worried they were (at which point Turbo reminded him to speak for himself), about how sorry he was that he was absent, about how important the job he took was, how he would otherwise have never left her alone -- well, not alone, he says, since Turbo was there and kept her company which he was so, so grateful for.

By the time Turbo and Mavis made it to the Turbo Time port and bid him goodnight, he had wasted all of his conversation time apologizing and thanking. Mavis could still hear him calling out insistent requests for her to come see him the next day as she rode the cord train with Turbo.

Turbo was pissed. She could tell that much. From the train to his trailer, he said nothing, only grunting now and then in response to her conversation attempts. That much was typical. But there was something a bit off about his bad mood. It was a silent treatment, but it was not quite the cold shoulder. He kept close to her, hardly letting her stray from his touch, even as he unlocked his trailer door. It led Mavis to wonder if he really was mad at her, or if it was some other uncharted territory.

She did not feel ready for it, whatever it was.

Once they were inside, and it was time to go to bed for real, she elected to sleep on the couch, to give each of them some space. She lied and told him that she was still feeling nauseous, and did not think she could handle his inevitable tossing and turning. He did not argue.

So the two of them settled into their respective nests and listened to the deafening, heavy, quivering silence.

Mavis had thrown her smock and jeans to the floor, bunching herself up in the blankets that she kept at his place. They were starting to take on the scent of his home, which pleased her. Turbo’s trailer was the site of her deepest, easiest sleeps. Even so, there was a discomfort keeping her awake that grew from annoying to unnerving. A chill still radiated from her very core, one that blankets could not remedy. Her code had not quite stabilized completely, and it felt too light, too fragile, as if it would blow away at any moment and whisk her away into nothingness.

She had heard the springs of Turbo’s mattress squeaking in protest, but no snoring. Clearly, he was not having any more luck than her. Thoughts of his warm bed filled her mind and beckoned her seductively, but she still had to wonder what she would be in for if she joined him.

It did not take very long for her to decide that she needed a remedy for her chilling state more than anything else.

She stood in the darkness, stepping over messes that she knew by heart as she crossed to his bed. There was brief hesitation as she reached its edge. Turbo was facing away from her in a tense, unhappy ball, but she could tell he would not turn her away. It did not have to be a big deal, she told herself. So she tried not to make it one.

Slowly, she sat and slipped her bare legs down into the covers. The warmth was heavenly, like settling into a hot bath. Turbo’s bed was barely big enough for two sprites of their size, so even lying on her back, her side was pressed up against him. It took everything she had to restrain herself against clinging to him. Unusually high body heat aside, the sensation of his code in contact with hers held her down like an anchor. In that side of her body, she felt more secure, more relaxed, less afraid of spontaneously disappearing.

Turbo did not react at all to her joining him. He was still giving off that weird energy. She did not like it, but… at the same time, questions were coming into her head. Just how much had he seen that night? Just how much did he help her?

What, exactly, had her careless mistake put him through?

The questions gnawed at her nearly as hard as the cold. Uncharted territory be damned, she had to know what was in his head. What she put there.

“T…” she said softly and cautiously.

He grunted tiredly.

After considering her words carefully for a moment, she asked slowly, “Were you… the one who took me to the hospital?”

At first, he was quiet, but a single, humorless chuckle escaped him eventually. “Nah,” he sighed. “Nah, Mav, I wasn’t even there.”

She frowned at the ceiling, unsure of which alternative would have been better. “‘Kay, well…” she said, “who found me?”

“Found ya?”

“Found me nearly corrupting,” she clarified.

He was quiet long enough for her to sort of dread the answer, but his reply was not an answer at all. He just asked quietly, “How much do you actually remember about tonight?”

Mavis fidgeted with the hem of her shirt under the covers. Tempting another headache, she scoured her mind. “I mean… not all that much,” she mumbled as vague images began to resurface. “I was hangin’ out in my camp, and dug up some old Spells I’d been savin’.”

“Y’took more than one, didn’t ya?” he asked bluntly.

“Uh…” she squinted, rubbing her brow. “I think… two.”

“Why?” he breathed harshly.

She pondered. “‘Cause…”

Because she wanted to feel something.

“C’mon, man, I dunno. Do I need a reason? I just wanted to,” she half-lied.

Amazingly, Turbo did not fight her on that. But she could feel some awful energy radiating off of him, more of that off-key anger. He did not prompt her to continue, but she did anyway, just to fill the silence.

“But, uh… Y’know, at first, it was the usual Spell experience, and I was havin’ a grand ol’ time. Everythin’ was goin’ fine. But… after a while, I guess I got hit with a bad trip. I like… sorta got lost n’ wandered…”

Wandered until she found herself on an endless chess board, busy with crowds of chess pieces that all moved in their proper, respective patterns. She was the only one with a real body, the only one with no set path. She could not find her brush. She could not fly. She could only try not to trip as the squares on the floor shuddered and bumped against her feet. Rage swelled in her chest, threatening to burst her ribs apart. It needed to stop. It all needed to break.

That was when a little pawn approached her…

Curling up a bit against the uncomfortable memory, she gave the truth a wide berth. “I don’t… really know where I ended up, but… I just remember bein’ pissed. Real pissed. And uh… panicking. Then… wakin’ up n’ seein’ you.”

Turbo remained silent for a little while again, every now and then drawing in a breath to speak but not following through. Eventually, he gave another long sigh. “Look, Mav… I ain’t exactly told ya the whole story. I might’ve… glossed over some things. D’you wanna know what really happened?”

Mavis’ heart stuttered. “Uh… yeah. I’d say so.”

“It ain’t pretty.”

“I figured. Tell me, anyway.”

Twisting awkwardly on the cramped mattress, he rolled onto his back. She could see one of his fingers tapping against his chest as he chose his words. “The thing is… yeah, y’did almost corrupt. But it wasn’t exactly from an overdose. It wasn’t… entirely your fault.”

There was a quiet rumbling deep in his chest, and his voice deepened with spite. “It was that freakin’ sorry excuse for a Surge Protector. Game Central’s finest. He… shocked ya.”

Mavis considered that. “...Seriously?”

“Yup. He knew y’were high, too. He was just too much a limp-dicked wuss to try anythin’ other than killin’ ya on the spot.”

Mavis knew he was exaggerating. He never liked Surge. Neither did she, but all the same, she knew how docile the man was by nature. He was no killer. But she also knew there was little point arguing with Turbo’s biased views on things. Besides, what did she care about defending Surge’s honor? He did use excessive force on her. The only question was…

“Why? What’d I do to get him so riled up?”

Turbo breathed deeply for a second, and begrudgingly answered, “Y’kinda… attacked someone.”

She looked at him. “What? Y’mean… attacked, attacked?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it…” she wondered cautiously, “...anyone I know?”

Turbo sighed. “...Yeah. It was, uh… that little…” he made vague, small gestures, “the lil’ orange potato sack with a hat.”

Mavis felt her heart yanked downwards. She halfway propped up for a second. “Maribo?”

“Yeah, her.”

“Is she okay?”

Turbo glanced at her, brow raised. “Yeah, she’s fine. Cool your jets.”

She dropped onto her back again, letting that sink in. Maribo was by no means her friend, but Mavis did thoroughly enjoy pestering and toying with her. She liked her, in her own peculiar way. The thought of Maribo actually being afraid of her was an upsetting one, but she would have every reason to be scared, after that. Thinking of how small she was, Mavis was amazed she did not have Maribo’s death on her hands. Just the thought of it was haunting.

“Huh…” Mavis breathed. “‘Kay… so… what’d I do to her?”

She felt Turbo shrug next to her. “Not much. Y’just choked her a bit.”

“Yikes,” she hissed. “I guess it could be worse, but still, yikes. I could break her neck with one hand.”

Turbo grumbled. “Uh huh. That’s pretty much what the Blue Blunder used as an excuse to zap ya.”

“He’s right, though, ain’t he?”

His stern gaze turned on her. “Y’really oughtta be more pissed about this. He nearly killed ya.”

Her hands lifted a bit. “Yeah, but he didn’t. He’s just crap at his job. Whatever.”

Turbo groaned deep in his throat. “‘Kay, fine. Leave me to be the only one pissed about a guy who’s supposed to protect us giving absolutely zero bits about your safety. Someone’s gotta see somethin’ wrong with you almost dyin’ at the hands of a cop. Guess it’s gonna be me, as usual, the only guy ever smart enough to focus on the real issues. Y’know, some days I get tired a’ bein’ the voice a’ reason for the entire freakin’ arcade.”

“I know, sugar,” she said flatly, tuning out his rant.

He went on for a little while, but Mavis’ mind was just clouded with the fact that she almost killed someone… someone she liked, on top of that. How was she even supposed to move forward after that? What would be the first step to take? How could she deal with the issue as quickly, as easily, and most effectively as possible?

Turbo speaking directly to her snapped her out of it. “Mav.”

“Huh?”

“Are ya still worryin’ about what’s-her-face?”

“I’m not worried,” she lied.

Turbo paused, and she knew he could see right through her. After deliberating for a minute, he said, “She’s fine. Believe me. I saw her.”

She looked at him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “When you were unconscious, she came to have a peek at ya. Seemed perfectly alive to me. She’s just got bruises n’ she sounds like an old man.”

At that, Mavis could not help but snicker a bit. It felt good to laugh, even for a couple seconds. Settling down, she asked, “What’d she say to you?”

Turbo’s gaze wandered low as he thought. “Not much, but…” he mumbled, “if it makes ya feel any better, I let her know y’didn’t mean it. Had to explain to her what buffs were n’ everythin’.”

“Oh, great,” Mavis rubbed her forehead. “Great, thanks, T. Now she’s gonna think I’m some junkie loser.”

“Hmm. Maybe,” he said. “But are ya tellin’ me you’d rather she think of ya as a violent maniac?”

She sighed. “No. But ‘scuse me if I ain’t a fan a’ sprites thinkin’ I got a buff problem.”

There was something about his silence next to her that was concerning. He seemed to almost hold his breath, as if he was keeping words trapped in his lungs. She did not want to assume. Of all sprites, Turbo had to have been the one to know she was not an addict… right?

“Mavis,” he said lowly, and the lack of a nickname unsettled her. “You n’ me… We gotta talk.”

“...We are talkin’,” she told the ceiling.

“...About buffs.”

Her belly churned. “What’s there to talk about?” she asked, hostility creeping into her voice.

Automatically, his tone matched hers. “About how to never have a repeat incident a’ tonight.”

“Nope,” she chirped, rolling to leave the bed, but Turbo hooked an arm over her belly and pulled her back down. She began to protest, but he had rolled onto his side to face her, and his warmth radiated even deeper along that side of her body. It was just sedating enough to keep her there, but she refused to look at him. She just looked out into the darkness of his trailer, as if she would scurry off into it the moment he let her go.

“Will ya cool your jets for just a second,” he hissed, waiting a moment before loosening his grip on her and carefully stroking his thumb against her waist. She tried to focus on that sensation as he continued, his voice calmer. “Mav, I ain’t here to slap labels on ya or accuse ya of nothin’. I just got one point to make, n’ I’ll keep it short n’ sweet.”

“So do it.”

“Y’gotta quit takin’ buffs alone.”

“No.”

“Good,” he nodded, “this is good. We got that first ‘no’ outta the way.”

She merely groaned a bit.

He sighed. “Mavis, I ain’t thrilled to be talkin’ about this either. But I ain’t sayin’ you got a problem or an addiction or whatever. I ain’t even sayin’ you gotta quit takin’ buffs entirely. ‘Cause, hey, I like ‘em too, n’ it’s more fun doin’ ‘em together. But, like… y’gotta have someone to spot ya. Keep ya from overdoin’ it n’ gettin’ yourself in a freakin’ mess.”

“This was a freak incident,” she grumbled. “Up until tonight, I’ve flown solo just fine.”

“‘Kay, maybe that’s true, I dunno. But what I do know is… I mean…” his fingers squeezed into her waist a bit. “Y’slept through the worst a’ tonight. Y’don’t get how real it all was. It really, really almost happened, Mav. I... sat in that hospital waitin’ room for ages... waitin’ to hear if you’d survive the night. Even with a bunch a’ nurses helpin’ ya… everythin’ just hung on luck. You’re just… Y’know, you’re the luckiest n’ unluckiest sprite I know.”

As he spoke, Mavis’ defensiveness slowly softened, replaced by a grave, cold guilt. Imagining what it would have felt like if she had switched places with him… made her afraid of what she really had put him through. And now, he was actually opening up about it, so… it had to have been a big deal.

“So, what I’m gettin’ at is…” he shrugged. “Yeah, maybe this ain’t happened before. But it only took one time to put ya on death’s doorstep. If it ever happens a second time… who’s to say you’ll be so lucky again?”

Mavis stared into the darkness. “...I probably won’t,” she agreed softly, sadly, begrudgingly.

Turbo was quiet for a long time. She wondered if he was waiting for something, but she felt caught between her pride, her pain, and her heart.

For one thing, no one could tell her what to do, on principle. She could make her own decisions, good or bad.

For another, sometimes doing buffs alone was a more comfortable way for her to deal with some really ugly pain, the sort that no one else could ever see in her. Buffs worked faster than pleasant company. Buffs would never judge her. They would just take the pain away, and for once, she could enjoy being alone without the silence crashing down on her.

The thought of losing that option was sort of terrifying on its own.

Struggling with herself, she breathed ruefully, “Y’know I love risk-taking.”

“I know,” he whispered, more calmly than she expected.

There was a long, heavy, pregnant pause, but eventually, Turbo shifted. He scooted even closer to her, his arm bending as he squeezed her tightly against him. Behind her ear, she felt his breath for a moment before he nuzzled himself between her neck and the pillow, burying his face. He waited, his grip unrelenting.

Fumbling, Mavis prompted him softly, “...T?”

His voice low, hot, and muffled against her neck, he muttered, “Do I really gotta spell it out for ya that I don’t want ya to die?”

With that, her heart blew all other arguments out of the water.

Chest burning, she shakily took hold of his arm and squeezed. “No. No, I know…”

“So stop takin’ buffs alone,” he insisted softly. “...Please.”

Mavis turned her face to the ceiling again. She fought the uncertainty that she could actually do it. She told herself to at least try… but then decided that trying was not enough. She had to do it, and she could do anything. She was Make-it-freakin’-Mavis, and she did not have a buff problem.

“Alright,” she sighed. “I will.”

Turbo paused, but within seconds, he leaned in to find a firm grip on her and flipped her against his body as he rolled on his back, ending with her lying on top of him. Wide-eyed, a bit disoriented, Mavis said with a half-smile, “What the hell, T?”

“Ya gotta look me in the eye n’ say that,” he explained. “And a’course, y’gotta take the sacred vow.”

Between their faces, he held out his pinky finger. He watched her expectantly, not quite smiling yet.

“Is that really necessary?” she smirked, nodding at his hand.

“Oh, damn right it is, ‘cause I really wanna believe ya on this, Cherry Bomb,” he nodded briskly. “And don’t act like you didn’t start the tradition.”

A small laugh blew from her nose. Trying to ignore how daunting the promise she was about to make was, she just thought about how glad she was that his bad mood was letting up even a little bit. So, she complied. Looking right into his glowing yellow eyes, she locked her pinky over his. “No more buffs alone. Promise. Okay?”

“...Okay,” he released her hand, finally showing a bit of a satisfied smile.

Mavis made no movement to get off of him. This was the most contact she had with him all night, and it felt fantastic. She settled down, resting her chin on her crossed hands over his bare chest, and let his heat glow deep into her belly. But it was still not enough. Every inch of her left untouched still had that cold, ghostly quivering beneath her skin. It was not until she felt Turbo’s fingers in her hair that she realized she had been dissociating.

She perked up, and found him watching her contentedly, a peculiar look in his eye.

Mouth twitching into a smile, Mavis asked, “What’re you lookin’ at?”

“Hmm. I’unno,” he hummed, lightly scratching the back of her head. “Your eyes are finally dark again.”

Oh. Mavis was not sure why that in particular made her face flush with heat, but it sure did. Her gaze jumped away, and she chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, well,” she muttered, “you’re still pretty blindin’ there, Bright Eyes.”

His chest hopped with a short laugh. “C’mon, the glow’s a courtesy. They’re free torches for when you’re lost in my--”

Almost before she realized it, Mavis had pulled herself up to kiss him. Just once at first, soft and chaste, but enough to catch him off guard. When she pulled back to check his reaction, he looked at her with raised brows and a hint of a smile. “...Hey,” he purred.

“Hey--” she cut herself off by kissing him again. She could hardly restrain herself. All she wanted was contact. All she wanted was to feel something good after the numbness and anxiety of the whole night. Propping up against the pillows, she caressed his hair while he held her waist gently. He needed to touch her more. It just was not enough.

She kept her forehead against his once the kiss broke. Her eyes were closed, but she could tell by his voice that he was smiling a bit. “Someone’s in a mood, all of a sudden.”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “I need you.”

With that, she sat up, straddling his lap. He watched her from the pillows with confused eyes, but they widened when she tossed her shirt off over her head. She was just about to dive right back in, but the concerned look on Turbo’s face stopped her.

“Uh,” he said as gently as he could, “no offense, babe, but, y’know, I ain’t exactly in the mood to fool around.”

Mavis sat there on his hips, really feeling how cold the air outside the blankets was on her bare skin. She felt her face heat up again and her gaze wandered. It was not the rejection that was embarrassing, as that was not her real desire in the first place. It was the fact that she had to take plan B to get what she needed… communicating. Always with the communicating.

“No, I know,” she said quietly, twisting her finger. “I ain’t, either.”

“...Uh huh. Then...”

“Just-- Can you just--” she stammered, carefully grabbing his hands and bringing them to her hips, “just, like… touch me. Like… plain ol’ touchin’. I, uh… still feel kinda off in my code, n’ it’s weird n’ gross n’ drivin’ me crazy, so…”

After sizing her up for a second, he sat up. “Alright, if you insist,” he said with a grin. “Where?”

She swallowed. “...Everywhere.”

“Hmm!”

So he began running his big, warm hands all over her body, pressing hard per her instructions. Resting her elbows over his shoulders, Mavis tried to let everything go. Every stress from the last twenty-four hours was not allowed to exist in that moment. The spiraling thoughts that drove her to use the Spells. The deeply upsetting hallucinations. The hospital stay. The anxieties over the promise she made. The guilt, fear, and shame over what she had done to Maribo, what she had done to Turbo… banished. All that was left was the heat of skin-on-skin contact, and the motion of his code against hers, like a massage reaching deep inside and soothing the aches in her binary.

At a certain point, Turbo’s hands snaked slowly up her back, and suddenly, she was crushed against his torso. He hugged her so tightly to his body that she could feel her bones creak. Holding onto his shoulders, she mumbled, “Uh…”

Against the curve of her neck, he simply muttered, “Don’t make it weird.”

She saw little to argue with there. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him as well, settling into his shape, exhaling all the fear of her code blowing away into nothing. Something else swelled in her chest, and he squeezed her tight enough for it to float out.

“T…”

“Hm?”

“Uh… thanks… for bein’ there… for me. At the hospital.”

“...Yeah,” he whispered. “Don’t mention it.”

“And-- and for bein’ here,” she added. “With me. Right now.”

Turbo considered that, and responded only with a single, quick kiss on her neck.

It would still be some time before either of them fell asleep, and when they did, they would have no more than a couple of hours before having to part again. But in those hours, Mavis would sleep soundly, deeply, dreamlessly, kept warm, safe, and secure, held down by the weight of her anchor.

She would not let him down again.

Hopefully.

[ren-c-leyn]

Past, Present, Well Past Returning

 Let’s try this again, without my keyboard slipping and posting it for me -_-

 Time for... another fusion story! This time, I’m using these 1,2,3, amazing prompts from @thependragonwritersguild and these 1,2,3 incredible prompts by @givethispromptatry.

Warnings (mostly for people unfamiliar with my work): Just like many of my other shorts on here, this one contains fight scenes, character deaths, wounds, swearing, and is a generally angsty piece. Please tread with caution.

I could spend days staring out into the castle grounds, watching every move around. In fact I have. The last three days to be exact. Today was the last day, I decided. I knew the patterns well enough, I had seen and accounted for everything. It would work, it had to work. Tonight was the night I’d been waiting for since the last time I had been here.

I ran through a list of assurances, of my mentor’s mottos, of everything I could do. Not a single negative thought stayed in my mind for long. I had survived too much, gotten too strong, to fail. Everything was ready, waiting for me to reclaim what was mine. I just had to take it.

Sleep and rest made up the entire late afternoon til dusk. I prepared everything at dusk, watching the last wisps of sunlight fade from the sky like my innocence had all those years ago. A bitter smile pulled painfully onto my lips as I pulled the cloth mask over it.

My mentor once told me that assassins have no trade secrets. Their trade is the easiest to replicate. I found it funny coming from an assassin of their caliber. All of those years studying the way they moved so I could do it too. All of that time listening the way their voice flitted from male to female and leaped from accent to accent just to throw me off, just to ingrain them all in my own speaking. All of that time trying to learn their trade secrets, only to be told they never had any. If the situation wasn’t so dire, I might had laughed. But now was not the time.

I crept around the walls, all the way to the hidden escape passage, the same one I had left all those years ago. After making sure it still wasn’t watched, I preyed the ancient stones apart before slipping inside. The familiar scents of moss and old stone filtered through the dark cloth. Old memories spilled through my mind... but now wasn’t the time for them, either.

At the end of the passage, I stopped. I stopped thinking, stopped breathing, stopped everything and just listened. My ears waited for what felt like forever, searching for a telling sign of watchers. A scuff of a boot, a click of shifting armor, a cough or a sigh of a bored guard. When none came, I slowly pushed the door open to reveal an empty throne room. My heart twisted at the sight, but I forced myself to stay focused. The past had no place here right now.

I stepped into the room, and knew there was no turning back. Retracing familiar paths, I made my way to the study, where I knew he’d be. The stairways were silent, the doors all still, and everything perfect on my way there. Too perfect....

I paused outside of the grand double doors, something in my gut staying it was time to walk away. My heart burned, though, screaming that we had to. We had to open the doors and face him, or we never would. My mind understood both arguments presented to me. Now was the best time, when everyone was busy with the preparations for his wedding. It was possibly the only chance I’d ever get at this. On the other hand, it shouldn’t be this quiet, this silent. There should have been at least one servant, one guard, one witness.

I stood in a stalemate with myself, until the past seeped back in. The smell of blood, the stains slowly seeping through mother’s dress as she forced me through the hidden passage, the death cries of father echoing behind us. The rage bubbled up again, growling and snarling. The fear and anger of child me was what made the choice.

 Before I could catch up with myself, one hand drawing cold steel while the other slammed down the door handle and threw it open. I didn’t fully comprehend what happened, not until the crossbow bolt had embedded itself into my shoulder and knocked me to the ground. The condescending laugh from my nightmares echoed around the halls and chambers, ringing in my echoes so loudly I wished for nothing more than to cut my fucking ears off.

 “It’s been a long time, little one.”

 “Screw you, brother,” I hissed as I drug myself up into a sitting position, glaring at him, ignoring the two guards.

 Of course that pathetic coward would be the one with the crossbow. His men wore swords and held spear and shield, like the damn fine warriors I was sure they were.

 “That’s no way to speak to your elder sibling.”

 “I think it’s a fine way to address the fucking monster that murdered their own family for power.”

 I slowly forced myself onto my feet, gritting my teeth and willing the throbbing, burning pain in my shoulder. Bastard probably poisoned the bolt. It would be his style.

 “Oh really?” he replied in that smooth, oily voice, the one that made me want to rip his tongue out. “And I think this is a good way to deal with assassins and traitors.”

 He snapped his fingers and the guards obediently raised their weapons and began their advance. I snarled my favorite curses and fled, sliding down railings and running as quickly as I could. More guards poured out of random rooms, forcing me to change directions so many times that I eventually started running blind.

 I had had several escape routes planned beforehand, but I was far from them all now. I bolted through the kitchen, destroying platters of perfectly good food and knocking over one of the maids. From there they turned me down another hallway, where guards came rushing from the one that joined it. I had two seconds to decide, window or spears. Window it was. I leaped through it, feeling the unforgiving shards of ancient glass tear into me and snag the shaft of the bolt.

 I screamed in agony as I slide down the one of the buttresses, barely able to get my battered body to cooperate with me long enough to land on my feet when I hit the shingles. Unfortunately, I had been going too fast and they slid out from under me, sending my flying onto the stable roof. Winded, exhausted, bleeding, and probably broken, there was nothing I wanted more than to just lay there. Unfortunately, the bowman had other ideas.

 I rolled over to the side as a second arrow plunked onto the roof. I caught the edge and swung myself onto a pile of crates. They were more fragile than they looked, crumbling under me and nearly trapping me. It took precious moments to free myself, and by then I had no time to steal a horse. Footmen were racing up to me, and I had no choice but to flee.

 I was herded up the stairs of the walls and chased like a rabid animal halfway around it before I found myself stuck between two groups of swordsmen, panting, bleeding, finished.... The river bubbled and murmured its condolences as one of them stepped up. I tried to parry, but my blade moved too slow. His sword slipped past without resistance and ran me through the gut. I saw more coming and my body reacted on instincts built from months of training.

 I had ripped myself free of his blade and tumbled over the stones, off of the wall, and down into the river. I sunk into the water, blood drifting from the stab wound in my burning stomach. As my vision tunneled I saw something flash by. I found myself hoping that whatever it is ate me quickly. Or at least killed me first....

 My body was ripped free from the water, limp. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see whatever monster my brother had unleashed to track me down. Instead of the tearing of teeth or slicing of claws, all I felt was a gentle prodding at my wounds. I reopened my eyes, barely able to make out a blurred silhouette. A man’s voice hovered just above me. He hissed like the autumn wind, murmured something about blood loss, and then, there was silent blackness.

 When I woke up, everything hurt. I couldn’t feel anything but pain. My throat and nose burned, my stomach was swearing at me, my shoulder felt like someone had tried burning it off, and my muscles... I didn’t even want to remember they were attached.

 “Alive? Awake? Good, I was afraid you’d starve if you stayed out any longer.”

 I blinked and rolled my head over. Immediately, I wished I was fucking dead. He swished his tails around, the cat-like eyes watching me from beneath ragged black hair.

 “From one monster to the next.... Which limb do you want?”

 “I think if I was out to eat you, I would have done so already.”

 “I’m not making deals.”

 “Good, because neither am I.”

 “... Then what do you want?”

 He laughed so hard his leather wings opened slightly.

 “It never fails, does it? If humans can’t kill it, manipulate it, or decimate it emotionally, they can’t seem to trust it. Even if it did pull you out of a river, patch up your wounds, and give you the antidote for the poison. Or, maybe, you’re ungrateful brat attitude is less to do with human and more to do with royal?”

 I groaned.

 “You sound like my mentor.”

 “Because your mentor is my cousin.”

 I tried to shoot up out of bed but found myself groaned and flopping back down.

 “Fuck, what?”

 “Yeah, my cousin. I’m half human.”

 “Oh. I thought the voice changing and running up walls and other weird stuff was maybe... but I guess not.”

 He snorted.

 “I hear ya. I have no clue how anyone can do that shit and not break something, but that’s my cousin.”

 “So, my mentor asked you to save me?”

 “They mentioned you were up to something interesting.”

 “So, you came to help?”

 He laughed again.

 “Nope.”

 “Then... what the fuck were you doing there?”

 He grinned.

 “My goal.”

 I stared at him, feeling even more dizzy than I had before.

 “What?”

 “My goal is to keep you alive for no other reason than because it seems pretty damn difficult. Just started and look at you. One stab wound, one bolt to the shoulder, tons of cuts, and don’t even get me started on how long it took to dig all of the glass out of your thin skin. This is going to be the best challenge I’ve had yet.”

 He continued babbling about it, but I had retreated to the relative safety of my own mind, trying to figure out just what my mentor had gotten me into....

[justjstuff]

only then I am human, only then I am clean

Hey, guys! This little KakaSaku drabble is dedicated to the lovely @kibounokuro and inspired by her amazing drawing. Warnings for light sexual content and implied violence.

Everything around him was red.

In a weird dissociated kind of moment he actually thought that it was the blood falling on his eyes that was the cause of all the red but when he blinked it away it was still there. It took him a few moments to realise that someone—Genma, a distant part of him whispered—was nudging him forward.

His feet moved on pure instinct, pointing towards their home even though his head couldn’t quite remember what that meant—Konoha, his apartment, his ninken, her, another part said, stronger this time.

Slowly, things started to come back to him. The way the wind rustled the leaves, the different branches of Fire Country trees beneath his feet, Genma following his lead exactly a branch behind and two steps to the left. The mission.

By the time he was opening the barrier, his muscles were locked tight from how much he was trying to restrain his shaking. He left Genma without a word and once again moved on instinct.

Her chakra was like a beacon to him, familiarity making it easy for him to pinpoint it. Bright sunshine and early spring afternoons right in the middle of training ground 43. The trip there was endless and over in a second.

Suddenly she was there. Her ANBU uniform on sans mask, fist raised, hair up in her usual ponytail and dust that used to be a boulder surrounding her. The sun was behind her, just beginning its ascend and reflecting on her pink hair like a halo and Kakashi couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t remember how he got there but he blinked and then he was in front of her, letting his cracked porcelain mask fall to the floor before his knees followed.

“Kakashi…” Her voice was sweet and so familiar and it made his chest ache even as his lungs expanded and he took his first full breath since the bloodbath he left behind.

He saw her hesitate for half a second before her lithe hands were on him, healing the cut on his forehead and treading through his hair. A shudder went down his spine as he let go of the tension he’d been holding, the shaking he had been keeping at bay slamming on him full force.

Kakashi knew she had seen this coming. They both had.

Sakura had been in his first class at the academy, a quiet little thing that barely talked to anyone and he’d only really noticed her at the time because of her hair. He knew she had been just as smart as him but didn’t have a clan behind her to make skipping years a possibility.

She’d showed them, though. Showed them all what a tiny civilian kid could do with scary chakra control and an even scarier brains.

From their first mission together, her first ever in ANBU, the pull was there. He couldn’t understand it at first, tried to push it away—push her away—but soon it became too hard to resist. So hard that there he was, needing comfort, and Sakura was the one he sought.

Kakashi cupped the back of her legs and let his head fall forwards. Down on his knees he begged her for forgiveness she couldn’t give.

He knew logically that it wasn’t up to her to forgive him for the horrible things he had to do to keep their village safe but still, he could beg her to forgive him for touching her with his bloodstained fingers if nothing else.

(The same fingers he still sometimes thought carried Rin’s blood)

Sakura tugged on his hair a bit until he followed her silent command to stand up. Her green eyes sought his and he’s so lost on the endless sea that they are that he barely registered her fingers sliding his mask down.

All he can see is her, all he can smell is her and he really thought after all the running away he’d done from her it would be harder, but letting his lips meet hers was the easiest thing he had ever done.

He kissed her like he needed it to breathe—he wasn’t entirely unconvinced that he didn’t—and something curls warm inside his chest at feeling her tiny sigh against his bared skin. Sakura’s hands are still tugging at his roots and his have somehow found their way to her back and he felt dizzy from how good having her against him was.

In the end she is the one to take them a step further. She breaks away just long enough to whisper against his lips for him to take her to his place and he couldn’t do anything else but exactly what she asked of him.

Even though there is a desperate need for her inside him Kakashi manages to take things slow. He strips her off her dirty uniform and worships every inch of her body. He kneels before her like he did at the training grounds and buries his face between her thighs to taste her, his hands supporting her legs for a whole different reason now.

In the end she is the one begging him to come closer, her hands tearing his uniform from his body, her breathy voice whispering against his throat, I need you inside me.

When they are satisfied—only that’s a lie because being satisfied implies you are done and he doesn’t ever want to be done with her—they lay in a tangle of limbs between his sheets. They are both sweaty and dirty, there are bloody fingerprints against her porcelain skin but only then does he feel clean.

Like she washed all his sins away with her gentle touches and breathy moans and for the first time he doesn’t feel like a ghost, ambling through life with no real purpose. He feels human again and it’s all because of her.

[cosmicknives]

I’m trying to kick myself into some level of production and the easiest way is to read over the weird snippets of Gage and Gamma’s story!! ✨ I always like writing out their interactions and I still like this bit a bunch. I really should finish up the whole story. :’l

The last gatorclaw dropped to the ground with a crunching thud. The small metal hub shattered from its weight behind Gage and Gamma hopped off with an astonishing amount of grace.

And then, once safety set in his bones, all the emotions left Gage at once.

"You can’t be fuckin’ human,” Gage laughed, almost hysterically as excitement flooded out throughout his body. He let out another hardy laugh, hand covering part of his face, because god damn! Three gatorclaws, three of them! They should've been dead, dead, gone and halfway on their way to eaten. It was unreal.

Did he know how to pick them, or what!

Gamma just shook his head though as he made his way over, wiping the blood off his knife. Gage imagined a soft smile on his face. It looked great like everything else in this moment.

"You know what," he said quickly when Gamma offered him his hand, tugging him back up to his feet. Pain rung out from the wound though, and Gage flopped right back down. He was too hopped up on adrenaline anyways. His body left like rubber and like a live wire all at the same time. It was probably why he was rambling so much, so hard. But, who cared! They were fuckin' alive! "I'm gonna buy you that stupid knife from Kathleen! Right when she gets back from the Commonwealth, it's yours!"

"That thing's like a good ten thousand caps, Gage." Gamma almost snorted, kneeling down and fishing around in their bag.

"It's, fuckin', yours." He said again, stronger and he reached down to force Gamma's attention up. He didn't care if this idiot never wanted to see the world with his own free eyes, Gage was making a promise, internal and eternal here and now, under the hazy light of the moon and the thick scent of copper in the air: he'd follow this idiot to the Glowing Sea and back if he asked.

No one, no one else in this entire fucked up world could inspire Gage to feel like that. He didn't just feel it. In the moment, he knew that Gamma had his back in a way no one else ever had. He just took on three fuckin' Gatorclaws to save Gage's ass! Anyone else would've run. Anyone else should've run, it was the smarter plan but, God. He didn't.

He could kiss him, honestly, shitty mask and all.

But under his hands, Gamma stilled. Or rather, he was still. Unlike Gage, he wasn't shaking. He wasn't riding a high and such a simple, small thing stuck out in his frantic excited mind like the realization of pure trust he felt for this boy.

Anyone else would be Gage, they're be reacting. They'd be screaming in joy, they'd be shaking in terror, hell, maybe they'd just be puking their guts out just because over such a goddamn impressive feat. They'd be bragging! Something! Anything!

But, no. Under his hands, Gamma was still and the world seemed like it shuddered to a complete stop as Gage realized this was par for the course for him. Did he ever really react? Not after fights, he always were cool, calm and collected, from Colter to now. The words of his from before reran over his mind, and a sinking horror arose in him.

You can’t be fuckin’ human.

            Sitting in a old marsh in a reactive hellscape at night, Gage held Gamma's face in his hands, staring at the boy as an realization dawned on him. The thick smell of blood from the gatorclaws filled the air around them, and it was starting to feel suffocating.

"Gage, this is lovely and all, being caressed like I'm a damn schoolgirl..." Gamma started, probably glancing back now to look through their supplies. There was a new rustle between them. "Buuuut, I gotta get a stim for ya." The cut on his leg was severe, but. You know.

Gamma wasn’t human.

"...you okay, Porter?"

"You're not human," he said slowly, then pulled back his hands like the kid was acid. He felt numb, he felt worse than numb. The high from before straight collided back into the earth with the same force of the last gatorclaw. It shook him to his core.

It, it was the only explanation he had. It made sense! He'd heard all the fuckin' stories about the Institute as he roamed around the Commonwealth, the Institute and their synths. He'd heard the rumors of what happened at University Point, raised to ground and not a soul alive to tell the tale of what had happened. They came in the middle of the night and replaced you like you never were.

Only this time, Gage willingly let one of them in. He said 'do this one thing and I'll get you in the keys to our fuckin' kingdom'. Of course he killed Colter! That's why he didn't bloody take Gage's fuckin' advice! He was a fuckin' synth, what chance did Colter even have?

Beneath him, Gamma only tilted his head up a bit, shoulders lax as he stopped the search for that stimpak. "Cool, ya finally realized it. Now, can I-"

Which, ultimately, was the wrong answer for Gage. He grabbed the rifle laying by him quick and bashed it into the side of Gamma's head. And he couldn't really lie, it felt good catching that kid off guard for once because he railed back, hard.

"What in the loving fuck!?" He swore, pressing a hand to the spot that Gage hit. The moonlight wasn't strong to see if he drew any blood, and the gatorclaws' mask the scent of anything new.

"You're not human," was really his only defense. Rifles weren't great at close range and he still aimed it at the Boss.

"Yeah, no fuckin' shit, Sherlock," Gamma swore again, still pressing his hand against his head, still not motioning to arm himself any. Like Gage wasn't actually a threat even with a gun trained on him. What bullshit.

"You're a synth," Gage glared, weighing out his options in his head. Wrong option, apparently, because Gamma just grabbed the end of the gun, forcing it violently to the left as he leveled himself with Gage. And yeah, up close, he could see he indeed draw blood.

"Excuse you?! I didn't go through three years of intensive Hell to be called just  a synth. I'm a fuckin' Courser, get it right," he snapped, letting go the gun in a snap. Swearing under breath again, he just pushed Gage's leg aside, purposefully putting the most pressure on the wound (Gage assumed) before grabbing their supply bag.

"What's even the difference? You're still Institute tech." Because Gage didn't need to be an Egghead to know the best kind-of synth was a dead one. There was nothing good about them. Gamma though, just snorted as he rooted through their bag a good few feet away from Gage. Enough of a distance to not get hit with the butt of a rifle, not enough to not get shot by one. He really didn't think Gage would shoot, did he?

"The difference is those three dead Gatorclaws," he said, "That mind you, I fuckin' killed so you wouldn't end up in their digestive tract. So, you know, you're welcome. I'm so getting that knife now too."

"I'm not buying you shit."

"Yes. Yes, you are," Gamma said in an odd mixture of overly sweet and utterly ice cold. Gage heard the quiet thud on the bag hitting the ground, and looked up towards the fake. The stimpak was well in hand, Gamma expertly applying it to his temple with a little hiss. "You're buying it because, this," he waved his hand around his forehead, "was a shit thank you."

And now, I'm going to make to you suffer wasn't said aloud but Gage heard loud and clear all the same. Like he was the wrong here. Like he was the one who had been lying for the past two months.

Like he was the one who tricked him into trusting him. It was fuckin' Connor all over again. It was just like Colter too. He didn't see what he needed to see until it was too late and now, look when he was: once again at the mercy of the cold unfeeling universe.

Fuck. He'd even laugh when Gage jokingly lamented how the Institute hadn't tried replacing him yet, because, you know, he was Important, he was worth replacing. That stupid little fucker.

"I didn't pretend to be human," Gage shot back as Gamma, slowly, closed the distance between them.

"Who's pretending," was his only response before he jabbed the rest of the stimpak into Gage's leg. He hissed at the sudden intrusion, feeling the skin rapidly react to the drug as it coursed throughout his system. It was always a goddamn weird feeling, watching skin healed over the span of seconds instead weeks. Even weirder was to feel it happen. "Because it ain't me. I never claimed to be human."

"You never said you weren't either." And to that Gamma just looked up at Gage again. The faint outlines of his eyes popped out even in the darkness, forever too sharp for the expression of 'are you serious right now' Gamma had. Well, that was one mystery solved, he guessed.

"I killed Colter, a dumb idiot in decked out raider gear, with my bare hands." He noted. "I took down an infestation of bloodworms, an entire Park of hostile robots, and how many gatorclaws now? With what else, but basically a kitchen knife?" Gamma laughed quietly, but the sharp focus in the outlines in his eyes didn't flicker even for a moment. At least Gage knew why he found it so unnerving all the other times he saw it: it was utterly unhuman.

"Do you really think," Gamma continued, softly, slowly and surely for Gage, just letting the point really sink home, "a know-nothing human could do that? Or that a synth could? Please, Gage. Use your head. It's good for something other than caps, you know?" Reaching out, Gamma placed a hand gently on Gage's shoulder and looked him square in the eye.

"You knew it. You just didn't want to accept it." And with that, Gamma pushed himself back up his feet. "I'm gonna go get that stupid code and then we're going to get back to Fizztop because well, yes, I am that amazing and did, once again, totally saved your stupid life you ungrateful bastard, I'd rather not die because of your weirdo hang-ups." He said, waving his fingers in the air like it was spooky voodoo.

Gage didn't say anything in return, and Gamma took that admission of ...something because he just sighed and walked into the hub. From his seat, Gage listened to the soft sounds of fabric moving, bones hitting metal and heavy furniture being pushed around. He tried to empty his mind, tried to think rationally, if there was an rational line to be found.

He, he did know Gamma was odd. He thought he was something at first, a ghoul possibly because they were the only things he'd ever see move as fast as Gamma did. The sheer amount of distance he crossed during his fight with Colter, and so fast. He knew that's why the crowd had gasped. It wasn't that this nobody had gotten to their Overboss, it was just the pure speed of his movements.

But, when he had finally seen flesh, all those thoughts left. He still thought Gamma was odd, but there was plenty of odd people wandering around the Wasteland, odd people that did horrifying things to survive. It changed them so if there were a few motions that seemed off, a few choice words that caught Gage's attention in an off kind-of way, it never stuck.

It was, like everything else off in the Wasteland, easier to look away.

He knew, in an instant, how the Institute got away with so so much.

"By the way," Gamma said as he peeked his head out of the door. His mask was still firmly in the place, the dried blood was starting to flake away. Gage would've wiped the drying blood away himself, annoyed at the light touches that stuck to his skin. Gamma left it. Off, in a dismissible way. "You should probably move. That's an radioactive drum that on the other side of that wall."

Gage all but bolted away, Gamma cackling behind him. "Again, you're welcome!"

[izzy-b-hands]

Murder House, Part One

This is my @mtl-trick-or-treat for @enydart! I hope you like it; I had a lot of fun writing it! I also started something for your Treat prompt, so if you like this and want that one as well, just let me know and I will finish it and post it asap!

This was for the Trick prompt, asking for ‘something gross with Murderface.’ I went to something that most people find gross (though maybe not the Dethklok boys, since they see so much of it lol)-murder. But I had to give Murderface some fun and happiness too since he gets shit on so damn often, so hopefully this is gross enough!

Fic under the cut because this got long; RIP and my apologies to mobile users if the cut isn’t working on the app. I was actually going to try and fit the whole thing in one post, but found out there is a post length limit (who knew!) so I have split this into Part One and Two! I will post Part Two by the end of tomorrow at the latest (it just needs a few final touches!)

The ads for the haunted house played constantly from October 15th on . Radio, TV, even billboards plastered all over. He did his best to ignore them, even though he wanted to take a flamethrower to any billboard or screen that had the ad on it for even a second. 

The rest of the band, however, was harder to ignore. By the fifth night of the ads playing during their favorite evening TV shows, he was ready to snap listening to them comment. 

“Look at thats; you ams the most famous of us now,” Skwisgaar snickered as the ad played. 

Lights flashed and flickered on the big screen as it showed the haunted house actors depicting the murder-suicide that had sent him to his grandparents. There was even a chubby baby actor sat in the middle of the gore-’Baby Murderface looks on in horror!’ exclaimed the ad’s dramatic narrator. 

“Ams thats legal?” Toki asked, pointing at the screen. “To use your lifes like thats and makes a haunted house so...sads?” 

“Amn’ts even haunted really,” Skwisgaar replied. “Just sads. A sads house. What ams scary about thats?”

Pickles shrugged. “Well, someone sold their rights to their life story years ago. That’s scary, if you ask me. Cuz then they can do shit like this, and you’re shit outta luck to stop them. Ain’t that right, Murderface?” 

He wanted to just rage. To tell them to shut the fuck up, or he’d set fire to the living room just like he wanted to set fire to the haunted house and anyone who was involved with it. But he’d been upset constantly, since the ads had started. It felt strange, but he was almost tired of being upset and yelling about it. He just wanted to do something to get rid of it. 

“Whatever, juscht schut up about it. They were schupposed to make a cool movie out of my life,” Murderface sighed. 

Nathan chuckled. “You uh, you really thought they were gonna do that? Buying the rights to your life story; that was gonna make a really cool movie?” 

“Yeah, why the fuck not? People make movies about all kindsch of dumb schit; you can make a movie about anything basically!” Murderface spat back.

“Okay, Murderface, look--thing is, they gotta have a cool fun story, to make a cool movie. A movie about your life...that’d be pretty sad, dude,” Pickles said. “I mean, who the fuck would wanna watch that?” 

“Well, once he joins us, I mean...that’d be a cool movie,” Nathan said. 

“Yeah, but then that’s just a Dethklok movie,” Pickles replied. “And that ain’t what he wants; he wants a Murderface-only movie. But nobody’s gonna go see that, or if they did they’d like...I don’t know, cry themselves to death or something.” 

Murderface bit his tongue. They were in a rhythm now, going back and forth to talk shit about him. It was easier to try to stay quiet and ride it out. 

“Yeah, probably. Can you see it? ‘Saddest movie ever, millions cry themselves to death and stab out their own eyes’,” Nathan said. “Huh. Actually, that would be brutal as fuck. Murderface, you should call them--tell them to nix this haunted house bullshit and make the movie instead.” 

There were tears at the corner of his eyes, even though he didn’t want them there. He tried to look only at the TV, hoping no one would notice them. 

“Oh geez, look yous mades him cry now,” Skwisgaar tutted. “You eggs him on like this, when he ams already a big crysbaby, makes it worse. Ams you just a big baby Murderface? No, so knocks it off.” 

“He likes attention, that’s all he wants,” Pickles started. 

“Yeah, I says thats, like a big baby,” Skwisgaar interrupted. “Needings all this attentions.” 

 “Oh fuck you! You’ve got moviesch and booksch written about you!” Murderface protested. If anyone could talk about being an attention-needy baby, it was Skwisgaar. 

“Yeah, but I has to have them all takens down. Dids not authorize anys of thems, so they amnt’s accurate. I don’ts want them, but people makes them anyway.” Skwisgaar replied testily. “And does yous mean Toki’s book? Because that ams nots something I wanted either.” 

“Oh fuck yous, Skwisgaar,” Toki scoffed. “Yous ams just as bad. What theys calls an ‘attention whores’.” 

“Oh, and what ams yous, Mr. Gives-me-a-solo-rights-now-or-I-cries?” Skwisgaar shouted. 

It devolved from there, and he tuned it out. They’d forgotten to keep making fun of him, at least. But there was no watching the show with that much yelling over it; the cue to head in for the night. 

His boots thudded against the stone floors, and then against the wall of his room as he kicked them off and tossed them into a corner. 

“Schtupid executive asscholes. Schtupid Halloween. My life ischn’t scary, or schad, or anything--it’sch mine. How’d they like it if schomeone did that to them?” he grabbed an ancient dagger from its spot hanging on the wall and slashed in front of him. “Or better yet--Michael or Freddy or schomething could come and cut them down. Just schome creepy freak coming after them.”

He let the dagger clatter to the floor. “They’d never schee it coming...” 

And there it was. The perfect revenge, to make sure they’d never take anyone else’s life and turn it into some stupid attraction. To show them he wouldn’t take this lying down. 

Or that someone wouldn’t, at least. 

After all, Charles did have a few limits legally. He got them out of a lot of shit, but some of it was going to simply come down to being careful. There wasn’t too much work to do anyway--the website for the haunted house listed two main executives from the studio he’d sold his rights to, a team lead for the attraction itself, and if he could take out a few actors in the house too, well that was just icing on the cake at that point. 

It wasn’t a lot of murders for Charles to have to make disappear, but it was enough work if it was Murderface, famous bassist committing them. 

But a faceless, nameless boogeyman could get the job done. 

The outfit was easy to draw up, his ideas flowing like water. A little bit Michael with the black protective jumpsuit, and a touch of Freddy with the knives, all hidden in specially designed pockets so it wouldn’t look super bulky. The mask was fitting of any horror movie monster--blank and emotionless, unknowable.

Really, the mask was his masterpiece. Made of a flexible material so as to still be comfortable, with specialty coatings on the front to make it difficult for any victim to stab or shoot through it. It wouldn’t stop everything, but it would help keep him from getting outright killed. Not that he planned on giving them much of chance for that. Last, it would be painted a dark shade of blue, almost black, the color he figured would make it easiest to blend into any shadows. Only holes for the eyes and a few hidden ones near the nose--anything more felt too risky, too much of a chance to potentially be recognized. 

The bonus of being this rich was that no one would ask questions when he ordered weird shit. Hell, he commissioned random costumes for Planet Piss all the time. Charles would make sure the orders got processed as quickly as possible, and then his work could begin.

It was almost therapeutic, all of the planning and designing. It made falling asleep easier and quicker than it had been in weeks, and for the first time in awhile, he slept with a smile on his face.

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

The three days that followed were all tense excitement. Excitement for waiting for the outfit to get there, excitement to get started. With the main businessmen taken out of the equation, it would be easy to get Charles to start the legal side of things--to file lawsuits for everything from defamation to claiming he never sold his rights at all. And then the thing would be shuttered for good. 

The suit arrived first. Thick material, meant for an industrial setting, slow to stain or tear. And it fit like a glove. 

“I’ll corner thosche asscholes in their penthousches, and paint the wallsch with their gutsch!” he crowed as he finished buttoning it. It was a bit weird not wearing his shorts, but some sacrifice would be required to pull this all off. 

Now he could only hope the guys wouldn’t question the deliveries he was getting. They almost always did--for anyone. Pure morbid curiosity, or hoping it was something fun to be shared. 

So of course, they asked. 

“Uh, you quitting on us or something?” Pickles asked on the morning of the fourth day after the Plan had started, as they all dug into their breakfasts. “Going into construction?” 

“Of coursche not,” Murderface replied. “How’d you find out what it was anyway?” 

Pickles shrugged. “I smoke up with one of the gals in the mail room. She lets me look at all the mail that comes through here. Kinda fun.” 

“What the fuck, how long has she let you do that?” Nathan asked, his fork still halfway to his mouth as he stared perturbed at Pickles. 

Pickles shrugged again. “Couple years now. Why, you ordering nasty sex toys or something you don’t want me to see?” 

Nathan flushed pink, and glared down into his pancakes. “Don’t be an asshole. Just don’t want you going through all my shit.” 

“Yeah, you’re ordering nasty shit. I’m gonna watch out for your stuff more now,” Pickles grinned. 

“Juscht fire her,” Murderface said, grateful the topic was drifting away from his mail. “Then he can’t get in there anymore.” 

“Nah, he won’t,” Pickles replied. “You guys all know her--the one with those green eyes.” 

“Damn it,” Nathan huffed. “She’s nice. Always leaves a little note on my mail when she brings it to my room with a smiley face. I can’t fire her.” 

“Told ya,” Pickles smirked. “So, ya going to your shitty haunted house or something? Making a spooky costume, Scaryface?” 

“Yeah, might use it for Halloween” Murderface snorted. “But, itsch really for Planet Pissch. Got a...concept album idea going.” 

“Ams it piss?” Toki asked. 

Skwisgaar rolled his eyes as he sipped his coffee. “Whats does you think, Toki. What’s else woulds it be?” 

“Wes should does a groups costume this year,” Toki said. “Then wes can all goes to sees the sads Murderface house!” 

“I woulds be ups for thats,” Skwisgaar replied. “Gots to be somethings cool though, Toki.” 

“No, no, what the fuck, no,” Pickles protested. “Thought you Swedes were antisocial, why the hell do you wanna do a group costume?” 

Skwisgaar glared. “Because I ams Swedish, I can’ts have friends? Wes can’ts have funs with a groups costume? Ams I meant to hates fun?” 

“I just figured you wouldn’t think it was cool,” Pickles replied. “Don’t gotta be a douche bag about it.” 

“Oh fines then, I goes as the personifications of nihilism,” Skwisgaar scoffed. “Ams that an acceptable costume for mes, Pickle?” 

Murderface ate in silence as the argument grew over the group costume idea. He’d get used to even more arguments if it meant they’d forget to ask him about what he was doing. 

Still, Pickles potentially seeing his mail made him worry. When the mask showed up later that day, he made sure the mail team knew to bring it straight to his room. 

But it was Charles who knocked on his door and had the package in hand. 

“Look it over, if you want changes made we’ll send it back right away,” he said, watching as Murderface tried to open the package without letting him see too much of it. 

“Serial killer...that’s a fun costume,” Charles continued as Murderface turned away to examine the mask.

“How would you know?” Murderface asked as he felt Charles sit on the end of the bed. “Can’t see you getting dressed up for Halloween much.” 

Charles only shrugged. “So...will it work?” 

Murderface turned and stared. Did he somehow know? How the fuck could he know? 

“For your costume?” Charles asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“Oh, yeah. Perfect,” Murderface replied, relieved. And it was, exactly the way he wanted it. 

“Good,” Charles said, a small smile on his face. “Have fun putting it together. I’m sure you’ll look great.” 

After Charles had left, he pulled everything on and stood in front of the mirror near his closet. The whole picture--suit, mask, boots, a pair of black leather gloves--looked good. 

Except...

His hair ruined it. Everybody knew his hair, the fucking curly triangle. He had to hide it.

A thick winter beanie didn’t help, and the mask fit funny then. Any other hats would likely be the same result. 

“You gotta go,” he told the reflection of his curls. “We’re ugly asch schit anyway, being bald ain’t gonna make a difference.” 

He called for a klokateer from the hairdressing department, and changed back into his regular clothes while he waited for them. 

The klokateer had to have run, she was so out of breath. “Sir, you needed someone immediately. How may I assist you?” 

He pointed to his hair. “Get rid of it.” 

Her eyes were only barely visible with her hood on, but he could see them go wide. “Uhm...maybe we could just try a different style? Going straight to bald is a big change, sir.” 

“I. Want. It. Gone,” he replied. She’d run to Charles in a minute, he was sure of it. 

“Uh, we’ll need the clippers, not these,” she said, holding up a pair of shears. “Just let me go get those.” 

He sat on his bed and waited for the phone to ring. She’d have run to Charles, begging for help as to what to do without being seen as being disobedient. A moment later, his Dethphone rang loudly. 

“Murderface, I’ve got a very scared and confused young woman in here saying you want to chop off all your hair. Is this true?” Charles asked. 

“Yeah,” Murderface replied. “Why’sch that a big deal?” 

“Well, it is a very sudden image change. We’ll have to do all new publicity photos, promotions. And it is a bit random--why do you want to do this?” Charles asked. 

“Want a change, that’sch all,” Murderface sighed. “Can’t a guy want to change schit up?” 

Charles sighed. “Of course. I’ll send another hairdresser to you. This one’s a bit too shaky to do the job now.” 

Murderface tapped the ‘end call’ button, and flopped back against his pillows. The guys would hate having to take new pictures, but they’d get over it. Besides, maybe they’d have to make a sacrifice or two to help his revenge as well. 

It was a male klokateer this time, silent as he sat down a chair and propped a broom and dust pan near the door. He was silent all the way through the cut as well, but that was just fine. 

When the klokateer had cleaned the floor of his curls and left, Murderface put the outfit back on. 

It made a world of difference. Now, he looked like a proper faceless killer. 

Now, all he had to do was start killing. 

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

The next morning, he was glowing. There was no other way to put it. He was excited beyond belief to get started. Granted, he still needed to do a bit of research to figure out where each victim would be. But there were multiple social media accounts for each person, so it would be easy enough. 

The biggest worry right now was the reaction to his hair, or the lack of it. The guys did not disappoint as he joined them at the breakfast table. 

“What in the fuck dids yous do?” Skwisgaar asked, dropping his fork. “And why?” 

“I wanted to,” Murderface replied. “Felt like something different. Not bad, right?” 

“Ugggghhh,” Nathan whined. “We’re gonna have to do new promos now. I hate promo photos.” 

“Yeah, but they moved that green-eyed klokateer to the makeup team,” Pickles said. “Charles found out she was letting me in the mail room and uh...look, it was either move her or lose her. But you could talk to her more now, since she’ll be at the promos shoot.” 

Nathan smiled a very small smile. “Would be nice to say hi...” 

“Yeah, cuz you think she’s pretty. Even with the hood,” Pickles teased. 

“She is,” Nathan said. “Don’t make it weird when she’s around us, okay? We don’t wanna creep her out.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin it for ya,” Pickles replied as he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “You’ll get your chance with pretty mail girl.” 

“Not ifs Murderface gets it firsts,” Toki said. “Ams almost normal lookings now.” 

They all stared at Toki, then at Murderface. 

“Huh...you do look decent. I mean, still weird to see, but I don’t know, it works somehow,” Pickles said, breaking the brief silence. 

Nathan nodded. “Still not getting her number though.” 

“I won’t even try,” Murderface replied, rolling his eyes. He could worry about getting groupies with his new look after all his work was done. Normally, he’d have been all over the idea right away, but this was different. 

“Nots going to beats my numbers,” Skwisgaar muttered. “But yous looks okay. Almost goods, even.” 

“What can I schay, I know what looksch good,” Murderface smiled. “I was right about my schorts being schexy as hell, now with thisch--I’m gonna be irresistible.” 

He shoveled his food in quick as the conversation moved on to some bullshit about Toki wanting more groupies at the end of each concert. He had more important concerns. He’d get the suit ready with all of the knives he’d set aside for the project, and figure out where to go for his first target. If he could, he’d head out for it tonight. 

As soon as he was done with his plate, he dashed back to his room and started putting them away. It was fun, with so many hidden pockets to fill. He’d never get caught without a weapon, and once he was done it would go back to its spot--no murder weapons to be left behind. 

“Perfect,” he breathed as he finished the suit and held it up in front of himself. 

“Is it?” 

Charles’ voice made him jump. He hadn’t even heard him come in. 

“How the hell...what the...you should learn how to knock!” Murderface yelled, carefully folding the suit in close to his chest, as if he could somehow prevent Charles from seeing it any further.

“Sorry,” Charles replied, a smirk on his face. 

Murderface felt sweat pooling on his face. Charles wasn’t supposed to know about this part of things. Just to know when the assholes were dead, so he could start the legal paperwork. “Uh...now you know my costume is really perfect! I’m gonna look great!” 

“You will,” Charles agreed. “Also, 4242.” 

“What does that mean?” Murderface asked. 

“The first executive you’re going to kill. The code to his penthouse door is 4242,” Charles replied matter-of-factly. 

Murderface knew his jaw was hanging open, but he couldn’t help it. How in the hell had he figured it all out?

“All the details for your orders lead to someone far away from here. Some ass in Ohio who keeps trying to scalp Dethklok tickets. If the worst happens, and they start tracking anyone down to nail for these killings, it’ll be that jerk. Not you,” Charles continued. 

“How did you--” Murderface started. 

“Does it really matter?” Charles asked. “Point is, you’re doing a good job of keeping your tracks covered--I’m just going to make sure they stay covered.” 

“How do I know you aren’t gonna fuck me over though?” Murderface asked. If there would be anyone to turn him in, he would guess Charles would be the first to do it. 

Charles looked genuinely hurt at that. “Look, I get it. I’m not fun, I don’t seem like the type to let you get away with this. Just--just know I’ve got my reasons for wanting you to be successful in this endeavor. I won’t fuck you over.” 

“What, you’ve got bodies buried out in a desert schomewhere too?” Murderface asked, snorting. 

Charles didn’t laugh. Didn’t chuckle. Didn’t move an inch. That was scary as fuck. 

“Uh, never mind. You don’t gotta anschwer that,” Murderface said quickly. 

Charles sighed. ‘Look, he leaves for the Bahamas soon. So we need to get you out to him by this time tomorrow. And to the rest fairly quickly too, if we want this thing shut down by Halloween.” 

“You...you don’t like the haunted housche either?” Murderface asked. He’d figured Charles honestly didn’t give that much of a fuck about it. 

“Of course I don’t,” Charles scoffed. “Makes you look bad, and by association, the band. You don’t deserve it, and neither do the guys. But I haven’t found a way to touch them yet legally, so this...well, it’ll be perfect.” 

Murderface was struck. Granted, he was just as concerned about the band as he was for him, but...someone gave a shit. Honestly, truly, cared. 

“I’ll let you know when the plane is ready. Get packed,” Charles instructed as he turned and headed for the door. 

“You know where they all are?” Murderface asked. “You’re schure?” 

“I wouldn’t send you if I wasn’t,” Charles replied as he left. “I’ll have an alibi for your absence, in case any of the guys notice. So just go with it, okay?” 

Murderface nodded, and rushed to pack as Charles footsteps faded down the hallway. 

In six days time, all the assholes would be dead, and everything would be good again. 

The excitement was delicious.

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

The plane ride was quick, yet not quick enough. Still, before he knew it, he was in front of the penthouse building. It wasn’t too far from Mordhaus, only about fifty miles. He’d expected to have to travel longer, but was glad he didn’t have to. 

It was a busy enough place that crowds bustled around him, and he could drift past people through the doors without anyone glancing at him. The security guard was asleep, and there was no one else in the lobby. He didn’t want to jinx it, but it almost seemed like it would be easy. 

Then again, it wasn’t like there was much to stare at. He looked like any other guy coming to stay with someone in the building, in a black tee and jeans that Charles had waiting on the plane for him. The black duffel bag that held his suit and mask looked like any other travel bag. He was just a visitor, no one to look twice at. 

It was an incredibly freeing feeling. He’d never thought he would miss being anonymous, but it was nice for a short time. 

The service elevator wasn’t even hidden; he found it down a hall just off of the lobby. On the ride up to the penthouse, he changed, his hands shaking. He stowed the bag in the small room that housed the upper level entrance to the elevator, then started down the hall to the door of the penthouse.

The design of which was gross even to him. It might have been called a penthouse, but it was technically the first two top floors--in his mind, it was bigger than a penthouse then. 

But he wasn’t there to argue exactly what this guy’s home qualified as. He punched the code into the door panel, grabbed a large kitchen knife from one pocket sheath, and started into the dark home. 

A bachelor, and it showed by the state of the penthouse. There was still a pile of coke laying on the living room table, which was just showy and ridiculous to Murderface. Erotic art covered the walls, and while he owned a few of the same pieces himself, even this was a bit of overkill. You could barely see the wall behind the art there was so much of it. 

A light shone in the darkness, probably a bedroom. He moved towards it, as quiet as he could manage. 

“Jasmine?” a raspy voice called out. “I didn’t expect you tonight, baby. I’m not gonna pay you for a surprise visit; I hope you know that. But I’ll be happy to have some company.” 

This was it. Murderface gripped the knife tight, and charged into the room. 

The executive was in a open robe and boxers, and stared in shock at Murderface. 

“What in the--” he started.

Murderface stepped forward and shoved the knife into his open mouth. It was hard to yank back out, but the choking noises were incredibly satisfying to hear as he stabbed again and again--the man’s fat gut, his chest, slashing across his arms as he back up and fell to the bed, raising them to try and defend himself. Blood was splattered across his mask, and sweat dripped down his face, but he was enjoying the exertion--which would figure. The only exercise he’d enjoy would have to be illegal. 

Finally, the executive stopped moving. His intestines were falling out of him, and blood drenched the silver silk sheets and painted the walls. It was glorious. 

“One down,” he muttered to himself. “Two and how many extras to go.” 

He checked three times for a pulse before he left. The walk out was as easy as the walk in too--he changed again in the elevator, using a rag in the bag to wipe his boots clean, and walked past the same guard who was still fast asleep. 

The air tasted sweeter outside. It was cliche, but so true. He felt good--he always talked about doing shit, but so often didn’t. It felt amazing to finally do something. 

And he was excited to do more.

  ��                                   ------------------------

He slept on the plane ride home, not bothering or caring to check the time. He’d get home when he’d get home, and deal with any questions from the guys if any of them were up. He hadn’t left too late, so they were likely to still be stumbling around watching TV or something. 

Sure enough, they were all squished together on a couch, seemingly half asleep. They bounced back to wakefulness once he walked in though. 

“You dog!” Pickles shouted. “We heard about her; Charles told us everything! Toki was right, the hair was the problem. Now you’re getting models!” 

He grinned as Pickles charged towards him and slapped him on the back. He kept a tight hold of his duffel bag as he was steered towards the couch. He didn’t want any of them getting curious and searching through it. This was a hell of an alibi that Charles had given him. 

“So?” Skwisgaar asked expectantly. 

“What?” Murderface asked. “The model?” 

“Yeah!” Nathan exclaimed. “How was she?”

“Uh, amazing, of course,” Murderface replied, hoping he sounded less awkward than he felt. “Juscht wild, you know how models are.” 

“Looks at him,” Skwisgaar chuckled, and gently patted his cheek. “Still all sweaty and disgustings. Goods for you!” 

Murderface just nodded and smiled. This was all good and fun (though it would be more fun if Charles also could supply him with an actual model to date) but he was still tired. And he needed to get his stuff into his room and clean it all up. 

“Look at that grin,” Nathan laughed. “God, are you finally gonna be fun? That’s awesome, if you are.” 

“Yeah!” Toki added. “Then wes all gets ladies for afters our shows, and everybody ams happy! Oh wowee, we gotta takes you out to celebrates!” 

“Yeah,” Murderface agreed as he stood from the couch. “Schome night later this week maybe. Or hey, what about Halloween? Big night out to celebrate!” 

They cheered. They’d never been this enthusiastic for one of his suggestions before. Was it the hair, the alibi and fake accomplishment, or the real confidence from the murder that he’d been missing all this time to get them to really like him? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he wasn’t ever going back to what he was before. 

“That sounds like fun, and I hate to interrupt the planning,” Charles said, suddenly in the room. They needed to put a damn bell on him. “Can I borrow Murderface for a moment though? After all, I’m sure he needs to actually get some sleep now!” 

Their happy laughter echoed down the halls as Charles gently pulled him away from the couch and to his room.

He shut and locked the door, and gestured to two plush armchairs at one wall of the massive bedroom. “Have a seat. You deserve the rest. Scotch okay?”

Murderface nodded and took in the room. It was very...Charles. Richly yet plainly decorated. All black and red, almost something out of Dracula’s castle with the velvet everywhere, yet nothing stood out about it to declare it as Charles’. The chair was comfy, if nothing else. 

He dropped his back by him as he dropped into the chair, and gratefully took the glass of scotch from Charles. 

“So...how was it?” Charles asked. 

He took a breath. “It wasch...amazing. I can’t wait for the next one.” 

He felt his cheeks flush as Charles grinned. 

“I’m glad you had fun. I figured you would, but I wanted to check in just in case. I’m proud of you for this, you know,” Charles said. “This is quite an undertaking. But you’re doing wonderfully.” 

Murderface nodded. “Thanksch.” 

The silence sat for a moment before Charles broke it. 

“You want to know why I’m so invested.” 

He nodded. “I mean...I get it. You take care of usch, and all our bullschit. But this...you’re really exschited for this.” 

Charles tossed back the scotch in his glass and smiled. “Well. I can’t tell you everything. In fact, there’s more I can’t tell you than there is that I can. But I--I had my own reasons to do this sort of violence you’re doing now. The why doesn’t matter so much anymore, not to me at least. But that’s because the people I needed dead are in the ground, rotting, and no longer a threat to me. And that is...very freeing.” 

“You feel safe,” Murderface found himself whispering, so quietly his speech impediment didn’t have a chance to start. 

Charles nodded, but his eyes were on his empty glass. “Yes. I suppose that’s the best way to describe it.” 

“Did you enjoy it?” Murderface asked. 

Charles chuckled. “I think you know the answer to that already.” 

He nodded. “Yeah. Bet you’d be out here doing these yourschelf if you could.” 

Charles sat up a bit straighter. “I mean...it would be fun. To do it again. Even just once. But I don’t want to take away from your fun.” 

“I’ll need help at the haunted housche,” Murderface replied. “I’ve got to take out the team lead, but there’ll be a bunch of actorsch we can take down too...I don’t want to be overwhelmed by anyone fighting back. You could come with, if you think you can make it.” 

Charles looked happier than he’d ever seen him before. “If you really want me to; I’d love to. I don’t get out very often anymore.” 

“It schows,” Murderface scoffed before he could catch his tongue. He looked nervously at Charles, awaiting the lecture.

Instead, Charles threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck. It does, doesn’t it? All work and no play...Yeah. I’ll come with for the haunted house. You can have fun with the second executive on your own first though.” 

“I schuppose you’ll have all the info for me about him by tomorrow?” Murderface smiled. 

“Of course,” Charles replied as they slowly stood and went to the door. He unlocked it, handed him the duffel bag, and patted Murderface’s back gently as he walked out. “Get some good sleep--you’re going to need the energy.” 

“What? Isch this guy schome sort of Olympian-executive or schomething?” he asked. 

Charles shook his head. “But you should be well-rested before these, uh, little adventures no matter what. Better form, and then you won’t tire out halfway through things.” 

Murderface nodded. “Hey...uh, thanksch. For all of thisch. I mean, I’d probably be fine on my own too, but--” 

Charles just nodded back. “I get it. Have a good night, Murderface.” 

The door clicked shut behind him as he started down the hall towards his room. He was definitely ready to sleep some more. But the morbid curiosity was gnawing at him too--what other skeletons did Charles have in his closet, and what exactly had he done to put them there?

Maybe he’d find out after Halloween night, if he could get him to join them for celebratory drinks. He hoped he would. 

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