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mrsgiovanna · 3 years

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The Escape Route (Yan! Don Giorno x Fem!Reader)

A request from a lovely nonnie mouse asking how the Don would handle his darling attempting to escape from his home. A bit of a drawn out scenario... I really hope you enjoy the read.

TW: Manipulative relationship dynamics, possessive behaviour, yandere behaviour

Word Count: 2.7k

Your brisk walk was slowly turning into a run as you worked your way through the busy streets of Naples. With your breathing ragged and eyes darting around to make sure nobody was on your tail, you tried to think about how best to put your escape plan back on track.

You knew that Giorno’s influence extended further than most, but you hadn’t expected him to have the power to derail every single option you had thought of to escape from his overpowering grip. You had been running around for hours now, from station to station, none would book you a ticket to anywhere, every cab ride was hastily halted after a dubious phone call… resulting in you being unwillingly ejected from the vehicle each time. So there you were, running into the more dangerous parts of Naples, frantically looking for some kind of shelter to house you while you thought of what you would do next.

Thankfully, you found a tiny inn, sparse amenities, small and far removed enough you thought, to not be on Giorno’s radar. The kindly old lady didn’t ask many questions, and you paid with the cash you had been slowly hiding away for such an event.

You couldn’t pinpoint when your relationship with Giorno had descended to this but you knew that if you stayed any longer his charming brand of captivity would best your common sense and you would be trapped forever. With Giorno, you had access to anything, no request was too demanding… in exchange though he required you to be within his confines at all times, listen to and obey his honeyed instructions with minimal fuss, and to not run off in the occasions when he did take you out of the mansion. I’m just keeping you safe he said… little did you know that the most dangerous one of all was the Don himself with his hypnotic gaze.

To give him the benefit of the doubt, it could have been much worse, he never harmed you physically, never pushed the intimacy boundaries further than you allowed… in your moments of weakness, it was you who had sought out his embrace. The absurdity of it all- vacillating between love and hate for this man, and so to protect the fraying thread that held your sanity together, you decided to make a run for it. It was not an impulsive idea, you had spent the better part of the year planning your grand escape, trying to imagine every way in which your plan could go awry and possible solutions to the problems. Ironically, this was a habit that you had picked up from Giorno himself, and should your plan actually work, it would be quiet poetic- escaping using the traits of your captor against him. You had gathered small amounts of cash here and there, not enough to rouse anyone’s suspicion, and made sure that any and all evidence of you memorizing the layout of the surrounding areas was completely erased. Perhaps the most difficult task of them all, was to lure Giorno into false sense of security regarding your disposition towards your situation. In the weeks leading up to your escape, you had flawlessly played the part of the dutiful ‘wife’, listening attentively, spoiling him with gentle touches and loving gazes, making sure to build up your affections gradually, as if they had been blooming naturally so as not to trigger any suspicion.

Finally, you saw your opportunity to make your move that morning. Giorno had to leave early to meet with a few associates from Japan, so you rose with him, and watched as he got ready, helping him with his hair and doing up his tie. Looking up to meet his crystalline eyes, you noticed he considered you with an expression you haven’t seen on him before.

“What is it tesoro? Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked in a gentle tone.

“You’re… just so beautiful… would you like to come with me today? I’m sure they would love to meet you… I call them associates but in actual fact one of them is a relative of mine. You’ll only be bored for a little while; after that we can do whatever you would like to,” he asked with a gentle smile. You thought about how you were going to answer, ultimately you knew you didn’t want to go, favoring your grand escape instead, but denying him that quickly would definitely set off alarm bells in his mind.

“Ah! Perhaps next time my love, I’m not going to be good company today, I woke up with a bit of a headache… I’ll probably go back to bed and sleep it off after you leave,”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to make you feel any better bella, I hate the fact that you’re hurting,” Giorno cupped your face in his hands and gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, “get some rest bella mio, I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” kissing you on the forehead he left without another word. Waiting for him to be completely out of the villa, you watched as his car exited the driveway before quietly packing what you could, mentally going over your checklist more times than you cared to count. Since your change in attitude, the staff at the villa were more accepting of your whims, partly to do with the fact that Giorno had instructed them to do so - within reason, but also, because you had won over their trust and if you had to be honest with yourself, there was nothing you could fault them for. The dynamic Giorno had with them was not ruled by fear, but rather by admiration… all of them being drawn in by his charisma. Managing to maneuver your way through the mansion and out an exit that saw you climbing over a hidden portion of the eastern wall surrounding the villa, you had finally been outside the confines of the villa on your own for the first time in well over a year.

In the car on the way to meet with his guests Giorno was preoccupied. He had noticed the gradual change in your behavior and as much as he would have loved to give you the benefit of the doubt, a nagging inclination that you might be lying always clouded his thoughts. He loved you- entirely- even though there were days in which you rejected his affections, he was patient with you… eventually you’d understand, the dangers that lurked in every corner made your captivity, as you so unceremoniously called it, a necessity. He had grown so accustomed to making decisions with little to no advice, he had adopted that stance in his personal life as well. He rationalized that once you had accepted the fact that his actions were all borne from his desire to protect you, your lives would be peaceful, until then, he would be patient, enduring your tantrums and snide remarks with the grace of an aristocrat… which only upset you further. To Giorno, you were to be looked after, protected- treasured, and so no matter how much you had tested his patience in the beginning, not once were you ever hurt or taken advantage of. Violence and shackles were much too unrefined for a gem like you, so to correct your behavior, the young don resorted to other, less threatening means of discipline.

“Don Giovanna? We have arrived,” shaken out of his musings by his consigliere, his attention was drawn to the fact that they had arrived at their destination ready to discuss the matters at hand.

“Thank you Lorenzo, would you check if the staff has everything ready while I greet our guests?”

“Of course, excuse me,” with that, Lorenzo had left, hastily attending to a call as he walked.

“Ah, welcome to Italy, I take it you and your associates have settled in well?” said Giorno with a polite bow, being mindful of the cultural conventions of his esteemed guests. Drinks were ordered and everyone present had settled down in the private lounge, except for Lorenzo who had been animatedly conversing on the phone for enough time to make his absence felt. Frustrated by what he was tasked to do, he abruptly ended his conversation and sought out Giorno to give him the news, finally, the staff at villa Giovanna had realized you were gone.

“Don…”

“The expression on your face can only mean one thing… when did they notice?”

“A few minutes ago, she couldn’t have gotten too gar given the timeframe… what would you like me to do?”

“You stay here and keep our guests company, I’ll handle this…” not even bothering to alert the driver, Giorno collected the keys from the valet and zoomed off. Making a short drive even shorter, he arrived home in foul mood, although he did assign some of the blame to himself, recognizing his fatal error when he ignored his gut feeling, he was disappointed at how easily you had managed to slip from his grasp and wondered if his staff had been plotting with you all along. He would have to address that later on though, his primary concern now was to locate you and bring you back home.

“Mista, I have a special request to make, please come to the villa, bring Fugo with you,” said Giorno in a quick call, there were few who he trusted more than his underbosses, and this task was something that required only the most competent people. After a short explanation of the situation at hand, both men had already started making calls to the relevant people in an attempt to thwart your plans.

You would think the most frightening thing about Giorno would be his god-like requiem ability. But over and above the raw power he possessed was his reach, the world seemed so small, as if it had rested comfortably in his elegant hands- and you had been getting reminders of this inescapable fate over and over again. By the time you had given up on the idea of escaping through any traditional means of transportation, you must have tried fifty different avenues, each attempt failing more spectacularly than the last. Having had enough, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would not be leaving Naples immediately, and found refuge in the outskirts of the city. You climbed the rickety staircase behind the lady as she prattled on about her day.

“Shall I get you something to eat dolcezza? You look like you could use something warm and comforting in your system. In fact, let me do just that, you get settled in so long,” said the innkeeper before you had a chance to interject. Deciding to take a shower to wash off the day, you took comfort in the fact that this place was so remote, you were almost certain you were safe for the meantime. The tiny bathroom was a far cry from the palatial one you had grown accustomed to while being in Giorno’s villa, but it served the same purpose, only this time, you had your freedom. The place was peaceful though aside from the sound of what must have been a car backfiring and the small creaks from the natural expansion and contraction of the dwelling, it was quiet enough for you to calm down and organize your thoughts. Now that you were comparatively more at ease than before, you felt the strain of the day in your body, aching muscles, sore feet and cuts and scrapes that began to smart affixed a slight grimace to your face as you rummaged through your belongings to find some sort of pain relief.

A sharp knock on the door disrupted your search. You stayed silent for a moment, contemplating if you should ignore it or answer.

“Dolcezza, I’ve brought you a small snack, you’re going to enjoy it,” you just wanted to crawl into bed and forget the day you had, but you also didn’t want to snub her kindness, you reached out to unlock and open the door.

“Buongiorno tesoro… enjoying your little excursion? Marina here was kind enough to show me to your room so I could surprise you… seems like it worked, look at this charming expression,” turning to the smiling woman, Giorno nodded for her to leave. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, you wanted to cry, to run, to jump right out through the hazy window but your feet were rooted to the ground.

“Well (y/n) … you’ve been running around Naples for the entire day, have you found what you’re looking for?” his usual honeyed tone was laced with derision as he critically eyed your surroundings. “is this what you were so desperate to escape to? Look at this place… look at the condition you’re in… how is any of this better than everything I’ve given you?”

“I have my freedom here…” was all you could muster as your mind raced thinking of how he had still managed to find you despite all the precautions you had taken. “Giorno, how…”

“How did I find you? I always have my ways…” he said, sauntering over to the window, opening it just enough to make eye contact with whoever was outside, dismissing them with a nonchalant wave of his gloved hand. Pulling out his cellphone, he showed you the opened application, explaining that he had been using it to track your location, following the signal from the diamond earrings he gifted you on your birthday, carelessly left on when you had made your hasty escape. In all fairness, you hadn’t considered that the dainty gems were anything more than that. Feeling your legs starting to give out under you at the revelation that you were the cause of your own undoing, you sat on the bed hanging your head in defeat.

“Freedom, you say? Tell me how has that worked for you?”

“That’s not fair! You’ve basically controlled every single encounter I’ve had, and even when I thought I had escaped you by coming here, you still somehow managed to manipulate the situation…” you shouted, tears of frustration running feely down your face.

“Stop being dramatic, the world is full of horrible people, everyone is looking out for themselves, I wish you would realize that… tell me tesoro, how many people turned you away? Threw you out of their cars, made up excuses to deny your requests? Not one of those people looked into those pleading eyes and thought you were worth helping. Why? Because people are selfish…”

“You… you threatened them all, you…”

“You give me too much credit, it’s not like I was going to kill them, I hate violence, despite your disappointingly low opinion of me, even you have to admit that I’ve never done anything to physically harm you… all I want is to protect you, you don’t understand how things work out there,”

“It’s not like you’ve ever given me the opportunity to find out how things are… I”

“Some people are just meant to be loved and protected tesoro, isn’t that enough? Why would you want to risk being hurt to get a taste of something that’s actually not even worth it… you’re not cut out for this life… I’ve been here so I know this isn’t what you deserve. You’re coming back home with me,”

“But, I- “ you attempted to interject but his intense glare halted you.

“(y/n), I’m very patient under most circumstances, but please don’t test me now, I won’t say it twice…” said Giorno with a slight bite to his voice, it was clear he was growing tired of this conversation, and you were losing your will to fight back. With a quivering lip and misty eyes, you moved to gather your belongings but was stopped by the young don, arguing that he can replace whatever is there, wanting no other reminders of this transgression to follow you both back. Resigning yourself to this fate, realizing there was nowhere beyond his reach, you grasped his outstretched arm and followed him to the car to return to your life of opulent captivity. Months and months of planning all resulting in nothing, it became glaringly obvious to you that escaping was futile…

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retrievablememories · 4 years

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a day with you | taeyong (m)

title: a day with you pairing: taeyong x reader genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers summary: you spend your birthday with one of your closest friends—lee taeyong. word count: 4.7k warnings: fingering, oral sex (female receiving), PIV sex, a lil dirty talk a/n: i know he can’t drive(?) but let’s pretend lol. some parts of this fic are little vague and you’ll see what i mean but that’s so you can imagine your own preferences

Taeyong wakes up first thing in the morning with you already on his mind.

He can’t help but smile to himself as he thinks about spending time with you on a day as special as this—your birthday. He doesn’t always get to spend as much time with you as he’d like because of his neverendingly busy schedule, but this is one day he wouldn’t miss.

Wiping his blurry eyes, he reaches for his phone and opens the text message box with your name on it.

To: Y/N Hi sleepyhead~ are you awake yet? Probably not. But i’m coming to get you soon ^^

Taeyong takes a shower and dresses himself, all while still thinking of you. Once he’s ready to his liking, he leaves the dorm to drive to your favorite breakfast place nearby. The sun is just making its appearance over the horizon, warming the land and making everything seem brand new again.

When Taeyong arrives at your place with food in hand, it’s still fairly early in the morning. As he predicted, you aren’t awake yet—at least not fully. It takes you a minute to answer the door, and only after he knocks incessantly. When you do, you’re still in your pajamas from last night.

“I’m guessing you didn’t see my message?” He laughs and pats your head.

“Honestly, I was knocked out…sorry, Yongie,” you say, stifling a yawn. You move aside so he can come in and close the door after him. Suddenly awakened by the smell of food wafting past your nose, you follow Taeyong into the kitchen. “But I see you have food...what’d you bring me?”

“Only your favorite, of course. What else would I get the birthday girl on her special day?”

“You know me so well,” you say, giving Taeyong a side hug before diving into the bag to get your meal. You and Taeyong eat together at the table, enjoying each other’s company. You’re still a bit sleepy so you don’t say much, but Taeyong doesn’t mind. He likes seeing you enjoying your food, and it makes him happy to treat you to gestures like this.

Once you finish eating, you slide out of your seat and stretch. “Wow, that was great. Thank you Yongie,” you giggle, pinching his cheek. He blushes at your attention and shrugs bashfully.

“I’m gonna go take a shower and get dressed now. Can you tell me where we’re going so I know how to dress at least? A hint? Pleaseee?”

“Not yet! You’ll see when we get there,” Taeyong says smugly, putting his arms behind his head. “It’s not just one place anyway, so it doesn’t really matter what you wear.”

“Oh, fine. You won’t be too bored without me, right?” you ask, turning to look at him from the bedroom doorway.

“I’m fine Y/N, I can handle myself for an hour while you get ready.” He chuckles.

“If you insist!”

Once you’re ready, you and Taeyong go out to his car and take off to wherever the first destination is, which you’re excited to find out. You watch the scenery go by as you travel there.

“I hope work’s been treating you well,” you say, turning back to look at Taeyong.

“You don’t have to worry about me today,” he insists.

“I’m always gonna worry about you!” You put your hand on his leg, and his eyes widen a tad at that. “I know it’s hard sometimes. You said you wanted to make me happy—knowing you’re doing okay is what makes me happy.”

A grin spreads across his face. Taeyong glances at you and places his hand on yours. “I’m doing fine. Promise.” He nudges his pinky finger under yours, linking them together. “I wouldn’t lie to you!”

You squeeze his pinky finger back. “I’m trusting you. If I hear you’re overworking yourself again, I’m gonna force you to take a vacation. Just watch!”

You start to realize where you’re headed pretty soon when the city’s scenery gives way to more greenery. This lake, and the park it’s located in, is one of your favorite places to hang out with Taeyong, although you haven’t been there lately because he’s been so busy with work.

“Remember the first time we came here?” you ask, gazing at the lake’s surface glittering from between the trees.

“That was such a fun day. I didn’t even know this place existed back then...it feels like a hundred years ago now, though.”

Once the car is in the parking lot, you two head to the boardwalk. A good portion of it extends out into the lake itself before meeting the shore again and trailing off onto a nature trail among the trees. You walk along the portion that sits over the lake, stopping every so often to watch the water lap at the wooden posts. There are only a few other people out here besides you two; it’s still too early for the afternoon crowds.

Taeyong stands beside you as you peer into the waters, his hair blowing across his face from the cool breeze.

“You should drop in a coin. Make a wish or something.”

“I thought that was only for fountains?”

“Maybe it’ll work here, too.” He leans forward to see both of your reflections staring back at him.

You giggle. “The fish will get mad at me. I think I’ll pass on that one. We should go see the trail though, there’s a flower bush there...I know you remember it.”

“The one that has those flowers with the funny-looking petals?”

“Yes! I wanna take a picture of it,” you say, already feet ahead of Taeyong. “Come on, or you’re getting left behind!”

You and Taeyong end up walking through the park for a couple of hours; it offers enough land to trek through for days and still be able to find something new every hour. With the sun rising higher in the sky, the temperature quickly starts shooting up. You wipe the sweat away from your forehead, stopping underneath a tree near the side of the park that faces the main road.

You’ve stayed in the park long enough for other people and food trucks to start appearing, and there’s already a line of different vendors camping along the sidewalk.

“I’m hot. We need some ice cream,” you sigh dramatically, leaning against the tree for strength.

“Come on, there’s an ice cream truck down the road.”

Taeyong pays for both your ice creams and you walk along the edge of the park after getting them, eating happily and pointing out birds and flowers to each other every few minutes.

The heat does a number on your ice cream, making it melt onto your hand before you’re even halfway through with the cone. “Damn.” You look at the sticky mess covering your hand. “I should’ve gotten a napkin! Hold on, I’ll just go—”

“Wait.” Taeyong grabs your arm. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he bends his head to lick the ice cream dripping across your fingers. Your eyes grow big, and you stutter trying to think of how to respond, but you end up merely watching him.

He soon pulls back after he finishes his job on your hand. “See? All gone now,” he grins, but his smile comes out more nervous than he intended. The atmosphere isn’t awkward, per se, but it’s definitely more tense than it was a few minutes ago.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say weakly, trying to ignore the heat flooding through your body at his actions. “Don’t get us kicked out of here for public indecency!”

After you finish your ice cream, you and Taeyong decide to leave the park before you melt into the pavement. You stretch your hands in front of the air vents when you get back into his car, letting the pleasant chill run up your arms as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going now?” you ask, pressing your hand to the window. The park’s green scenery grows sparse and gives way to roads and familiar hardscapes, which means you’re probably heading to the busiest part of the city.

“Will you ever let me give you a surprise?” Taeyong whines, laughing. “I’ll give you one hint: you’ll need my credit card for it.”

“You mean mine?”

“No way, mine. You can buy whatever you want today, all on me. I already know what you’re thinking, but seriously, it’s fine; charge however much you want.”

“You’re too good to me, seriously. How did I find someone like you?”

“Luck, maybe.”

As you suspected, Taeyong takes you to the busier—and also more expensive—part of the city, packed with shops and boutiques on every corner and filled with people walking to and fro.

When you get out, you and Taeyong stand on the sidewalk gazing at the different stores. “I don’t know where to start,” you admit, gazing at the numerous options laid out in front of you. “You’re all into this luxury stuff, give me a recommendation for something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please?”

“Okay, here.” Taeyong pulls you to the first clothing store he sees, which happens to be Chanel. You haven’t been in here before, so you’re a bit taken aback at how spacious it is...and how just many clothes there are.

“Wow. I could probably shop forever and still not buy everything,” you say jokingly, drifting away from Taeyong to go over to a jacket that catches your eye.

You spend a lot of time going through the store—and the ones after that—trying to decide what you like. Taeyong buys you a few things from each one. He gives you suggestions at every place you stop in, but at the last store, he becomes drawn to a particular dress hanging on the rack. It’s black with big daisy patterns all over it, and the skirt is made of a flowing, silky material.

“Do you see something you like?” You peek over his shoulder at the dress.

“Yes, for you.” He takes it off the rack and holds it up to your body. “I think it’d look cute on you. Will you try it on?”

You give him a look before taking the dress from his hand. “Okay, let’s see how it looks.” You take it to the dressing room and undress so you can pull it on. The daisy patterns seemed a little overdone at first, but it looks better than you expected. After examining yourself in the mirror, you step outside the dressing room so Taeyong can see it.

“Well, what do you think of it?” you ask, spinning around so Taeyong can see it full-view. He taps his finger against his chin and nods, his eyes lingering on your form.

“You should wear it. Like, for the rest of the day.”

You turn to a nearby mirror and examine the dress again. “Hmm, you really think so?”

“It’s your birthday. You deserve to look good, don’t you?”

“Geez, are you saying my previous outfit was bad?” You snort, throwing Taeyong a skeptical look over your shoulder.

“No, I’m saying...this one is even better.” He’s practically eating you up with his eyes now, and there’s no room for doubt that he means what he says. You’re a bit flustered by the way he’s looking at you, so you turn back the mirror, staring at your reflection.

“Okay, I trust your taste,” you say, willing your heart rate to calm down a little. Taeyong smirks at you in the mirror’s reflection.

You try on a couple more things before leaving the last store—or more like, Taeyong convinces you that every item would look good on you and you decide to get it because you can’t resist his puppy dog eyes.

You drop your shopping bags off at your place before heading back out again. The next stop: the movie theater. Taeyong tells you to pick a movie and promises to stay awake through the whole thing even if he dislikes it, which you roll your eyes at.

“When have you ever known me to pick a bad movie?”

“Well…”

“On second thought, don’t answer that question.”

“Are you hungry?” Taeyong asks a couple hours after you leave the theater. It’s early evening now, but there’s still daylight from the long hours of summer. You had some popcorn in the theater, but you’re ready for the main course now.

“Yes, do you have something special planned for that too?” you ask, poking him in the side.

“Sure, but let’s go back to your place first, I think I left something there,” Taeyong says casually. You don’t suspect anything, so you happily agree, wondering where he’s gonna take you for dinner.

You get back to the building not too long after and head up the stairs to your floor with Taeyong trailing behind you. “This isn’t an excuse to look up my dress, is it?” you say jokingly, glancing back at him. Taeyong blushes at that and laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s not like that!”

You think Taeyong’s going to stop at your apartment once you get to it, but he keeps walking past it and towards the set of stairs that lead to the apartment’s rooftop.

“I’m hungry, Taeyong, why are we going to the roof? There isn’t any food up there,” you laugh, though you follow him as he tugs on your hand and guides you up the steps.

“You’ll see!”

When you get to the top of the stairs, Taeyong swings open the door. On the other side is your apartment’s rooftop, but it looks much different from the last time you saw it. On normal days, there’s a little hangout spot up there with tables and chairs, a fire pit, and an array of potted plants dotting each of the rooftop’s corners.

Now, there are little glowing fairy lights strung up everywhere, decorating the assortment of potted plants native to the rooftop’s decor. The chairs have been pushed to the sides of the roof to make room for a huge blanket in the middle, a quaint little picnic basket on top of it.

“Whoa,” you say, your eyes widening at the setup. “I’ve actually only been up here a few times...I guess I’ve been so busy I haven’t had proper time to appreciate it. It looks really different now...” You gaze at the city’s skyline in awe. The sun is still shining brightly, though darker oranges are already bleeding into the sky’s lighter hue in preparation for sunset. It won’t be long before the city is draped in darkness.

“Well, now you get to enjoy it with me!” Taeyong pulls you over to the blanket. The fire pit isn’t lit yet, but maybe you can do that later tonight.

“When did you even have time to set all this up, anyway? Seriously!” you ask as you and Taeyong sit down.

“I know people,” is his only explanation. “And it’s easy to pull strings when you’re cute.” He does an aegyo move and you shove him, laughing.

You and Taeyong dig into the picnic basket. “I made it myself too, ‘cause I know how much you like whatever you make.” He says this with a gentle smile.

“Ever the humble chef,” you laugh, taking the rest of the food out. There’s an array of fruits and other snacks in addition to the main meal. “Your cooking is always so good. How do you do it?” Taeyong shrugs.

“Sheer talent. Or magic. You should let me teach you one day,” Taeyong says with his mouth full.

“I should,” you say absentmindedly, looking across the skyline as you eat. “We should come up here more, too.”

After you finish the main meal, you and Taeyong feed each other pieces of fruit as he lies his head in your lap, his soft hair fanning across your bare legs. His eyes are soft as he looks up at you, and it makes your mind go warm and fuzzy with all the things you want to say to him.

Eventually, you lie back too, reclining on the soft blanket and gazing at the endless sheet of stars above you, glittering from light years away. Taeyong pulls away from you momentarily to light the fire pit, and the flames lick at the edges of your vision as you watch the starry sky.

“Do you ever think about how some of the stars have already long burned out? And their light is only just now reaching us?”

Taeyong makes a face as he settles beside you. “That’s a bit scary.”

“What if they were all gone? And there were actually no more stars left in our galaxy?” You turn your head to look at Taeyong. “What we would look at at night, then?”

Taeyong pauses for a moment before choosing his answer. “There would still be stars to look at. Like the ones here on Earth.” You smile at that.

The night gets darker as time wears on, and the temperature outside drops. Despite the warmth of the fire pit, Taeyong notices you shiver at the sudden breeze and pulls you closer to him, rubbing his hands on your arms. “Maybe we should go inside?”

“Sounds good to me, I’m starting to get a little sleepy anyway…we’ve been out all day,” you say, stretching your arms and legs. Taeyong cleans up all the food and empty containers spread around, refusing to let you lift a finger to help. Once the picnic basket is packed, you both roll off the blanket so he can fold it up and sling it over his arm. He puts the fire out and gets ready to leave with you, taking your hand.

“What about the lights and stuff?” you ask, glancing back at the fairy lighting still dangling off the potted plants.

“Later,” Taeyong says, waving it away. “Somebody will get to enjoy it tomorrow, maybe.”

You both head back down the stairs and to your apartment. Taeyong sets the stuff down and pulls you into a hug once you both enter your place.

“Today was so fun,” you say, hugging Taeyong back and relishing the feel of his arms around you. “It was the best birthday ever. You’re the best friend anyone could have, you know?”

“I could say the same.” Taeyong murmurs. You pull away from each other, but Taeyong’s fingertips linger at the hemline of your dress; he rubs the fabric between his fingers, a thoughtful look on his face. “You look so cute in this dress...really pretty.” His hand drifts higher and his fingers skirt across your waistline, to your arm, and up your shoulder until he’s hovering at your face.

Taeyong touches the side of your face, a gentle smile on his lips. Your eyes linger on each other’s for a tense moment, and then, Taeyong steps closer and closes the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. Maybe you should be surprised, but you’re not. Taeyong pulls your body closer, his hand sliding to the nape of your neck and into your hair, cradling the back of your head.

His lips are soft and his tongue is warm against yours. His other hand finds its way back to your skirt and drifts higher, higher, and higher underneath, dangerously close to the hemline of your underwear. He pulls away, panting against your lips, and you chase him for more. He acquiesces and gives you another hot kiss, but then breaks it to speak against your lips,

“I’ve been wanting to slip underneath this dress all day.” His fingers come around to your front, pressing into your sex. “Why do you think I picked it? In the shop...wouldn’t it have been nice if we fucked there?”

You moan at that as Taeyong’s lips drift to your jaw, then the side of your neck. You grip Taeyong’s wrist, bringing his hand closer, pressing his knuckles to your clit. You shudder, and Taeyong responds by dragging his fingers over that spot more firmly, feeling you grow wetter and warmer against him.

“Sit on the couch for me, baby.” Taeyong guides you backwards until your knees hit the back of the couch. Your dress spreads out around you as you sit, and Taeyong kneels in front of you, dragging the fabric higher to rest above your thighs. He leans closer to lay soft kisses over your inner thighs, his fingers pressing into the skin as he pulls your body closer to his mouth. You tremble and press your back against the couch when he mouths at your clit through your underwear.

“Taeyong…” He licks you slowly through your underwear and you have to resist the urge to close your legs around his head as his tongue dances over your clit. He pulls back, looking up at you deviously, only to hook his fingers into your underwear and pull them down. You lift your hips to help him, and he holds you firmly in his grip, bringing your pussy closer to meet his warm and wanting mouth. You gasp at the feeling of his lips on your bare skin, pushing your hand through his hair, wanting him to bury himself inside you.

He slips a finger into you as he licks you and makes you pliable, and then he adds another as he presses them upwards to find the spot that will have you shaking for him. Taeyong finds it soon after and keeps thrusting into it as he lets his tongue trace circles over and over your clit, drawing out more moans and whines from you.

You’re wet and sticky with pleasure at this point, moving your hips along with Taeyong’s movements to draw out as much ecstasy as you can. You feel the orgasm building in your lower body as you grind yourself onto Taeyong’s fingers, and he brings you nearer to it until you’re teetering on the edge.

You tip over the precipice when Taeyong moans into you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted and wiggles his fingers against your spot a little harder. You come hard on his fingers and face, and all you can do is grab onto his free hand for support as your legs shake and your stomach tenses from the waves of bliss flowing through you. When Taeyong thinks you’ve had enough, he pulls away from you with his face glistening. He licks his lips clean and lets go of your thighs, letting your relaxed form rest against the couch.

“Let’s go to your room,” he says, and gathers you up in his arms, taking you down the hall to where your bedroom is. He lays you gently on the bed and you watch with anticipation thrumming through your body as he sheds his clothing in front of you until he’s down to his underwear. Though you’ve just come, you’re already leaking and ready for him to pleasure you again.

His hands come up to your body to peel away your dress, and he guides you to lie back on the middle of the bed as his lips cover each new section of exposed skin. He kneads your breasts once they’re revealed to him, pinching your nipples and sucking them between his soft lips, teasing them into hard peaks. His mouth is indescribably warm and wet against your body, his hands equally as soft and gentle as they roam over your waist, down to your hips and legs and back again.

You take Taeyong’s chin between your fingers and bring his face back up to yours so you can kiss his lips and whisper in his ear, “Taeyong, please. I want you.”

Taeyong parts from you for a moment to grab a condom from his jeans, and once he rolls it on he settles between your legs with his cock nudging against your lower lips. He thrusts his hips against you, his tip catching on your entrance, and he keeps rocking himself until he’s fully seated inside of you, both of you moaning from the sensation of filling and being filled.

“You feel so good,” Taeyong murmurs into the side of your neck. He pushes into you slowly, wanting to feel every inch of you around him. With so many sensations flowing through you at once, you’re unsure where to put your hands, and they drift across Taeyong’s back aimlessly. The muscles there clench under your palms as he thrusts into you.

He is tender as he holds you close, kissing you wherever he can and moaning softly in your ear. This is not how you thought your night would end, but you have no complaints as Taeyong fills you over and over again, his hand sliding down your body to rub against your clit. You squeeze his shoulders, your nails pricking his skin slightly as the pleasure doubles inside you.

Droplets of sweat gather at his hairline and at the sides of his face, making the strands stick to his skin. You wipe these away as he looks into your eyes and strokes into you, his hips moving with more vigor as he gets more intense and feels the beginnings of his orgasm creeping up on him.

“I’m close,” Taeyong groans.

“Taeyong…” you sigh and arch against him as your climax overtakes you first, flooding through your body like liquid gold and making you tense and shiver around him.

Taeyong shudders against you when he comes, pulling your body closer to his and lowering his head onto your shoulder as he rides out the throes of pleasure. You both hold onto each other as if you’ll drift away otherwise, your arms tight around him as you listen to his heavy breaths.

He eventually rolls away from you to dispose of the condom. When he comes back, he pulls the bed covers back and draws you into his arms. You cuddle close together, and you can hear his heartbeat steadily next to your ear.

“You know I love you, right?” Taeyong asks quietly, drawing his index finger along your side. It tickles, but you don’t mind much as long as he’s touching you.

“Do you know I love you?” you say back, your lips moving against his collarbone as you speak. He brings his hand up to your hair, breathing in your scent.

“Mmm...maybe.” His body shakes with laughter. “I think maybe I knew it all along.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes. Tiredness sweeps over you, and you know you’ll have to talk more in the morning, but right now you are more than content to leave things as they are. “Maybe we were made for each other.”

#taeyong smut #taeyong fluff #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong fic #nct smut #nct fic #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fic #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #taeyong #nct 127

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bookandcranny · 4 years

Text

Entertainer in a Minor Key

Pale light filters in through tears in the canvas. Rows of bleachers and folding chairs stand sentinel over a ring of sawdust, where in the center sits a wooden box with a star painted on the side. A prop chest or maybe a crate of old costumes, forgotten like the rest of it. Whoever left this place in such a state must have been in some hurry, Tanis muses.

Curious, she steps into the ring to investigate. The look of that box brushes against another of those deep-down memories and brings to mind a child’s toy chest. The big padlock is a bit atypical though. Mindlessly she reaches for the multitool in her back pocket and kneels to fiddle with it. As she fits it into the lock, the lid props open an inch and a round, blue eye peers out at her from the shaded darkness.

summary: When you’re traveling across the country on foot in a world overrun with every kind of horror movie monster the mind can imagine on an ill-fated quest to go beat up your former boss, it’s important to maintain a sense of humor, as well as an open mind.

content warnings: descriptions of violence and gore

length: about 9k words

The fairgrounds have been long since abandoned by the time Tanis stumbles upon them. A big top tent sways gently in the wind, its candy-colored stripes looking faded and grim under the shadow of the oncoming storm. A loose bit of canvas flaps against the dark mouth of the entryway in a two-four rhythm. Pap-pap, pap-pap.

Tanis’ inclination is to duck inside before the lazy drizzle of rain has the chance to start falling in earnest, but first, the test. Rolling up the sleeve of her flannel reveals a list written on her forearm in black marker.

NO:

Abandoned houses

Dark caves

Graveyards

Wax museums

The last bullet point is underlined. Never again.

“Well it doesn’t say anything about old circuses,” she says to herself. “But that’s probably because I’ve never been to one.”

It’s not what she’d call an inviting looking place, but neither does it seem especially dangerous, and the longer she spends deliberating outside the entrance the colder and wetter she’s getting. With no sign of any other half-decent shelter to be found, she steps inside.

There’s something oddly nostalgic about this place, she thinks. Odd because she doesn’t remember ever going to the circus as a kid. Maybe it’s the smell: wood chips and an unidentifiable sugary sweetness that reminds her of playing on the playground behind the school, the ice cream truck that parked there during the summers, popsicles melting onto careless sticky fingers.

“Oh, um. Hello in there.”

“Please let me out,” a voice whispers from inside.

“Aw, ‘course I will. It can’t be too comfortable in there.” After a tense minute of probing with the head of a screwdriver, the lock springs open. “There we go! How’d you even manage to…”

A bone-white hand crams itself through the gap, fingers skittering spider-like over the clasp. The lid creaks open and from within rises a doll, a slender circus clown with long ball-jointed limbs tucked into its chest, unfolding like the petals of a flower. It’s taller than Tanis by a head at least and its painted face looms over her with an open-hinged smile.

“Ah. I see now.”

“Ooh, thank you thank you!” the doll trills in the voice of a bubbly young woman. She raises her legs out of the box with the wobbly grace of a drunken ballerina, head bobbing above a moth-eaten ruffle collar, causing her eyes to roll from side to side in their sockets like pale marbles.

“No need to thank me. I just popped in to catch a show but it looks like I missed my window so I’ll just be on my way.”

She makes to leave the way she came but the doll leaps in front of her with surprising speed.

“Don’t go yet. Play with me,” she says. “Oh won’t you please play with me?”

Tanis thinks about it, weighing her options. She reaches for the guitar case slung over her back. “Yeah, alright.”

“Really?”

“Sure, it’s been a while since I had a good jam sesh. What do you play?”

The doll freezes, then with the crackling creak of stiff wooden joints it bends its body backwards and begins rifling through the crate. She fishes through frilly costumes, loose kernels of stale popcorn, packing peanuts, and emerges with a bright red toy piano. It makes a bouncy, tinny sound as she strikes the keys.

“Avant-garde. I like it.”

“If you could do me the kindness of turning my key.” She turns around and points at a brass windup key jutting out of a whole in her leotard.

In for a penny, in for a pound I guess. Tanis gives it a few twists. It clicks, spins, and the doll jerks forward, striking a shrill note.

“Oh that feels so much better!”

She lays her rosewood fingers across the piano keys and this time a full, rich sound echoes from the little toy. Suddenly a spotlight shines down from somewhere above them, piercing through the shadows. Tanis’ blinks against the glare. She squints up at the rafters but can’t for her life figure out where the light is coming from.

“Nice trick. You’re a performer of many talents, Ms Clown.”

“Silly! My name is Caroline!”

She nods, strumming a few experimental chords. “Tanis. What’re you doing in a gloomy place like this?”

In lieu of a response, Caroline begins to play faster, and as she plays the circus seems to be transported back in time. The ubiquitous signs of wear and age fade before Tanis’ eyes and the empty tent begins to fill up with cheers and laughter and the awed murmurs of a captivated audience. When she tries to look at them, however, like a half-remembered dream the faces of both the patrons and the other entertainers alike are replaced by churning mass of blurry gray features.

“I was the secret show-stopper, the dancing doll! The ringmaster had me made special. But one day, the show was stopped for good, and I was left alone.”

No intonation betrays her thoughts, yet as she speaks the ghosts of the past begin to fade, returning the tent to its dour state.

Not sure what to say, Tanis replies, “That’s a shame. Is that why you were all shut up in that box?”

She takes her hands off the keys, but the music keeps playing. A new vision appears; the hazy forms of strangers, travelers like Tanis whose curiosity or search for shelter drove them to this place before her. They murmur amongst themselves as they peer and point at the oddity in the ring. Caroline reaches for them and they recoil in horror before vanishing like smoke.

“No one wanted to play.”

Tanis shifts uneasily on her feet. This is awkward. “Aw jeez, I’m sorry about all that. But things’ll look up soon, I’m sure.”

No reply. Tanis’ hands still. She doesn’t really feel like playing anymore.

“Anyway, thanks for the song but it sounds like the rain’s letting up so I better be on my way.”

The music cuts out. Suddenly all is silent but for the quiet clicking of the spinning key.

“You don’t want to play anymore?” Caroline asks softly.

She put up her hands. “No offense. I just gotta keep moving. I’ve still got a long way to travel, you see.”

Once again she tries to leave and once again the doll bars her way. Standing up from the piano she twists her dexterous fingers into Tanis’ shirt collar and lifts her off the ground.

“You can’t go,” she implores. “You mustn’t go. It’s so very dangerous out there.”

Tanis struggles in her grip. “Seems pretty bad in here too.”

“Oh but I don’t want to harm you! I only wish to entertain!”

The spectral spotlights return twice as bright, causing the woman to wince. She kicks at her captor’s wooden limbs. The thing doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Come on now, let’s be reasonable and put-” Thunk. “Me-” Thunk. “Down.”

“You’re quite spirited, Ms Tanis! I’ve so missed having a lively audience.”

She spins her around and pins her up against the bleachers. Sneaking a hand into her back pocket, Tanis pulls out the multitool and jams the knife edge into her side. This at last gets a reaction from her. She makes a small startled noise, closer to offense than pain, and throws the woman to the ground.

The fall itself isn’t bad, but she doesn’t relish the feeling of her guitar slamming into her torso. Tanis groans and pushes herself up while Caroline continues to fret over the pocket knife lodged in her. She pulls and pulls but it's gotten all twisted up in her frilly costume and every seam she tears with her tugging makes her whimper like a distressed child.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Tanis picks up her guitar, the closest thing to a weapon she has on hand, and swings it at her head. There’s a satisfying pop as one of her marble eyes shoots out of its socket and rolls under the stands. The doll bends double with a piercing wail.

“Sorry about this, Caroline. You seemed alright.”

With that, she reaches over and rips the brass key out of her back. The clown-creature slouches, then falls to her knees. The hole in her back oozes with a trickle of something-- not blood, thankfully. Something darker and more viscous, almost like molasses.

Tanis sighs and plops down on the sawdust floor. She’s relieved to find her guitar not much worse for wear in spite of her rough handling, although she’ll need to replace a snapped string. She lays it gently back into its case and fishes out a marker from her sparse bundle of belongings.

NO:

Abandoned houses

Dark caves

Graveyards

Wax museums

Circuses

She rolls the dancing doll’s key around in her hand. After a moment’s deliberation, she lifts the oversized toy up over her shoulder and drops her back into her box. She plugs the smooth chunk of brass back into the weeping wound; Caroline shudders but otherwise remains dormant.

“There we go, no harm no foul,” she tells her limp form. “You rest up now.”

Tanis has come across her fair share of monsters already but rarely has one shown so much emotion. Most of the beasties she encounters don’t seem to know more than the bottomless hunger that drives them. She hasn’t had much reason up until now to consider what they might’ve been before, but now that the seed is sewn, she can’t help but feel a bit bad for the poor thing.

Loneliness is a bitch and to be a performer without any audience is a plight she’s all too familiar with. She remembers the desperation, the despair, the things it could drive a person to do.

With the weight of the case back on her shoulders and the firm earth back beneath her feet, the traveler sets off again.

It feels like she’s been trudging through the mud for an age and a half before she reaches the next human township. Her burdens feel twice as heavy today and she’s eager to find someplace to lay them down if only for the night.

The quaint settlement is surrounded on all sides by a high wooden wall and there’s an exposed duct trailing around the perimeter, the stagnant water turned pink from where the red soil flooded in with the rain. A tired looking soldier waves to her from his perch above the gate.

“Hello down there. What’s your business?”

“I’m just looking for a place to stay the night. If you can point me in the direction of a boarding house or a shelter I’ll be right out of your hair, sir.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I can’t let you in until I know you’re not a monster.”

She scoffs. “You guys get many monsters that look like me?”

“You never know these days. Last month we had some… troubles.” His expression turns dark. “We’re still recouping from our losses, you understand. Can’t take the risk.”

Tanis shrugs. Fair enough. “My name’s Tanis Lahey and I’m a traveling musician.” She gestures to her guitar. “I ain’t got much in the way of money and even less to barter, but I’m not expecting luxury, just a place to rest my head and maybe a hot meal to keep me going.”

“Where do you come from, Ms Lahey? And where are you going?”

“I come from over west; Ohm Town, Oklahoma. Destination: Bigge City.”

The guard scratches his stubbly chin. “That’s a hell of a trip, especially to make on foot.”

“I had a car but it broke down as I was crossing the state line. A pack of ghouls spiked the highway. I dipped out before things could get messy.”

He nods, only half listening, she suspects. She isn’t expecting sympathy for her tale; it’s hardly one of a kind.

“Any weapons?”

“Nothing but my razor sharp wit, sir.”

He levels her an unimpressed look. “What’s your business in Bigge? Family?”

She shakes her head. “Work, sort of. I’m meeting with my manager to renegotiate a contract.”

“Good on you. Good work’s hard to come by these days.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“You said you’re a musician, right? We haven’t got much for music here. There’s an inn in the center of town that’d probably put you up in exchange for a good show.”

He turns and makes a motion behind him for whoever’s working the crank on the other side and the gate begins to rise. The wooden creaking stirs a feeling of discontent in Tanis, too reminiscent of recent events.

“Thanks for the tip, I’ll be sure to do that.”

Finding the inn isn’t hard, considering it’s one of maybe four buildings that’s more than a pop-up shanty. Settlements like this aren’t so unusual: a group of refugees from an infested district cobbles together some cheap homes, a couple municipal buildings, maybe even a business or two, and most importantly, a hefty monster-proof security system. In a few decades if the place is still standing it becomes a destination for those unlucky few like herself who are caught out traveling the wilds and secures a tidy profit in trade and touristry, if you can call it that.

It’s clear however that this particular patch of civilization has hit some hard times, even by the usual standards. It’s almost startlingly easy for Tanis to strike up a deal with the innkeeper: room and board in exchange for a few hours of music in the pub downstairs, or until the night’s patronage dries up, and she even gets to keep the tips.

“It’s been a hard winter,” says the manager. “Folks walk around as if in a fog or else mad as hell at every little thing, just looking for a reason to start a fight. Some music might lift their spirits.”

“That’s what I’m here for, ma’am,” says Tanis. “Just give me a few minutes to tune up and get my things in order.”

She guides her to her room and then leaves her be, telling her she’ll try to get the local rumor mill turning, get the word out about her before she takes the floor. Alone now, Tanis sets her things down on the bed and opens the case, falling on her ass for the second time today when out climbs none other than Caroline the dancing doll.

“You-!” She sputters and looks around for something to put between the two of them.

“Surprise!” The one-eyed puppet throws her arms wide, wiggling her hands for emphasis. “Oh wait don’t-”

Tanis lobs her shoe at her. It hits her in the face, but she doesn’t seem bothered, or else it’s simply that she’s not capable of expressing a very wide range of emotion with her painted on expression and nutcracker-like jaw.

“No no no, don’t be afraid,” Caroline insists.

Tanis reaches down to untie her other shoe. “I’m not afraid, I’m pissed. Serves me right for taking pity on you.”

“It was fairly foolish from a strictly objective standpoint, but also very kind.”

Her narrow shoulders tuck in close, creating an almost sheepish effect.

“Nobody’s ever done a thing like that before. Nobody’s ever taken the time to play a song with me and listen to my story.”

Slowly, Tanis lowers the shoe.

“I don’t mean to harm you or cause you any trouble,” Caroline continues. “It’s only, you’re a terribly strange human, and I wanted oh so much to keep playing with you. I thought to myself, ‘if I can’t keep Ms Tanis from leaving, I’ll simply have to go with her’. So when you weren’t looking I curled myself up all teensy tiny and climbed in with your lovely instrument and away we went! In addition to my myriad musical abilities I also happen to be a fabulous contortionist, you know.”

She demonstrates this by tipping forward and pulling her legs behind her head in a position that would’ve been truly disturbing on a flesh and blood body.

“No wonder my case felt so heavy,” Tanis grumbles, standing up. “Look, sweetheart, you can’t be here. This is a strictly no-monster zone. We could both get in a huge amount of trouble. Not to mention I’m still not positive you won’t kill me in my sleep.”

“Please don’t leave me! We can play more music together! Or, turn my key and I’ll show you another magic trick! We can play cards or do each other’s makeup. I’ll make you look like a tiger.” She shuffles forward on ball-jointed knees, pleading. “You’re the only one who’s not afraid of me.”

Tanis can’t help but smirk at that. “Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that.”

“Oh I know, it’s because we’re best friends.”

She frowns. “No, no it’s… it’s a long story, hon.”

“I love stories!”

“Not a fun story, Caroline.” She shakes her head, rakes a hand through her short curls, growing longer and messier by the day it seems. “I’m not scared of you because I physically can’t fear any fear. Someone took it from me.”

She cocks her head. “Took… your fear?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that I guess. Sort of hard to explain.”

“Perhaps you should start with ‘once upon a time’. All the best stories start like that.”

Tanis sighs through her nose. “Agree to disagree but I’ll give it a shot. Once upon a time, in the far away land of Oklahoma…”

Once upon a time there was a young musician named Tanis. She worked in her parents’ bakery in a town where nothing ever changed, not in summer or winter, not in rain or blizzard or tornado. Even when the monsters came and the natural order of the world was turned on its head, for the most people still went on about their business as usual, just with an added tinge of constant dread, and even that wasn’t off-beat enough to endanger the status quo.

Tanis had big dreams of making it as a rock star and leaving her small world behind, but the people around her didn’t quite see things her way. Eventually she struck out on her own, intent on proving wrong all the naysayers wrong. Unfortunately, talent and raw gusto aren’t enough to make a star, and passion doesn’t pay the bills, as she soon discovered.

After only just scraping by for more than a year, fameless and friendless, she was about to call it quits and head back home in shame when she was approached by a strange gentleman.

He called himself Mr Slyme, which maybe should have been a red flag on its own. But Tanis didn’t care. She was willing to do anything for success and he was promising her not only a paying gig but, if the show went well, an entire sponsored tour.

The very first time she stepped onto that stage she knew she’d gotten in over her head. In their dealings Mr Slyme had failed to mention that she’d be playing for an audience entirely of monsters. Still, if she shut her eyes while she sang the screeches and howling cries didn’t sound so different from the cheers of an adoring crowd. Skin warm from the limelight and stars in her eyes, she knew she couldn’t go back to the way things were, whatever the risk.

Mr Slyme was very pleased with her performance and had her sign a contract with his company right away. After that it was tours and autographs and show after show after show. Time seemed to blur together in a single crashing wave of euphoric adrenalin. She felt like she could go on like this forever.

Then, that last concert. The one where it all went wrong. A darkened auditorium and the metallic tang of blood in the air. She hadn’t thought to ask questions before stepping on stage, and by then it was too late. The ritual was already underway.

It felt as though her hands were not her own. A chant bubbled up from her throat in a voice she could barely recognize. The lights were fiery hot yet her blood ran cold when she heard, above the hysterical clamour of the crowd, the word “sacrifice”.

Tanis was never entirely certain how she made it out alive. Maybe someone up there was still looking out for her, despite it all. All she knew was by the time she escaped she was in a bad state, her clothes in shreds, her hair coming out in chunks, her whole body shaking as the blood cooled on her skin, much of it her own. She got in her car and drove, no destination in mind except home. Facing her family might be the worst part of all, but there was nowhere else to go.

She prayed that it was all over now.

The morning after her final concert Tanis woke up in a motel with a strange feeling of absence, like the tugging in your brain when you can’t remember what you’ve forgotten. She was jolted into awareness by the sound of her phone ringing, and when she answered she was greeted by the sneering, insidious voice of Mr Slyme dripping into her ear.

By refusing to see the performance through, he told her, she’d breached the terms of her contract. As recompense, he had taken something of hers. Something precious.

Tanis wasn’t one to put her faith in the intangible, the mystical. Or, she hadn’t been back then. Even if she had paid proper attention to what she was signing she probably wouldn’t have given the clause very much thought, perhaps written it off as a joke. As it was, the sudden loss of her mortal soul wasn’t quite what she might’ve expected. No demons appeared in her motel room to drag her down into a fiery pit. To tell the truth, she didn’t feel very different at all. Still, something had changed.

As days went by Tanis began to notice herself becoming more careless. She burned herself cooking simply because it didn’t occur to her to not touch the hot pan with her bare fingers. Where pain used to be a teacher now it only made her indignant. The daily dangers of reckless drivers and unfriendly dogs and strangers coming too close to her as she walked down a darkened street no longer gave her any sense of unease. Several times she had to consciously stop herself from walking into a busy crosswalk simply because she couldn’t remember why the outcome might be undesirable.

It may have been more tolerable, she thought, if she simply wanted to die. That’s what people tended to assume of her anyway in the wake of this new affliction. But there was no sadness or suffering in her, not even when she remembered the events of the ritual that she’d thought would scar her forever, only a slow creeping apathy which grew stronger every passing moment.

Against the odds, she did come to relearn fear, the basic mechanics of it if not the actual feeling, and stopped regularly endangering herself in such ridiculous ways. Fearlessness, she realized, didn’t have to equal reckless stupidity as long as she remained mindful of it.

Still, this couldn’t go on forever. Mr Slyme wasn’t taking her calls, naturally, and so she set off for the one place she knew she could find him: the main offices of Slyme House Incorporated.

“So, that’s me,” Tanis finished with a lackluster shrug. “I’ve managed to keep myself in one piece so far but it’s kind of difficult when you have zero sense of self preservation and there are monsters literally everywhere. I’m not sure what’ll happen to me if I die or if I even really care, only I figure if I do kick it I won’t be able to play music anymore.”

She gives her guitar an idle strum as she finishes tuning.

“Music is pretty much the only thing that ever made me really happy. If I couldn’t do that, I don’t know. I can’t feel fear but I can still feel happiness and sadness and all the rest.” She clenches her fist. “Anger too, definitely. I’m angry that I was duped like that, the kind of angry that I don’t think’s gonna let up until I put my fist all the way through Slyme’s ugly face.”

“I’m sure you’ll be quite good at it! You’re very strong.”

Tanis snaps out of her stewing, sparing a guilty glance towards Caroline’s empty left socket and the cracks still faintly visible through the tear in her leotard.

“Listen, I’m sorry about what happened back there. I’m not really used to meeting monsters that don’t wanna, you know, kill and eat me, and my fight or flight response is pretty much just fight at the moment.”

Caroline laughs, or rather, she vocalizes a robotic sounding “ahaha!” that must be her version of laughter. “I would never eat you. I don’t even have a digestive system!”

Tanis presses her lips together. “Right.”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Oh shit, right, I’m supposed to play.”

Caroline jumps up. “I want to come too! Please please pretty please!”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” She pauses, considers. “Unless… do you think you can pretend to be, you know, a normal doll for a while?”

“Pretend? I love to play pretend!” She claps her wooden hands together. “Lead the way, Ms Tanis!”

There’s an itching at the back of her brain that tells her this may be a mistake, the ghost of her good sense hanging on by a thread. But without concern for her own wellbeing her sympathy for the dopey doll takes the reins, and together they take the stage.

It’s a sad crowd, both in terms of size and demeanor. Hopefully, she thinks, they’re deep enough in their cups to not question the windup automaton that stands before them.

“Good evening, folks, my name’s Tanis and this is Caroline the fantastic dancing doll.”

Caroline gives a robotic jerk and bows at the waist. It’s a surprisingly convincing performance, but then, it probably comes naturally to her. A few patrons give an amused chuckle at Caroline’s antics. Tanis takes it as a good sign and begins the first song.

Despite not having the time to rehearse, Caroline manages to play her part well, improvising along to the music the other provides with sweeping, exaggerated movements that hold the crowd’s attention. It’s actually sort of nice, the guitarist thinks, to share the stage with someone else for a change. Even if the “stage” is just the corner of a dingy inn stinking of bathtub booze.

The atmosphere is infectious and after a few songs the crowd has doubled in number, everyone bobbing their heads or tapping their feet along with the music. It feels good. It feels better than most things have felt in a long time.

Halfway through the night Tanis breathlessly declares that they’ll be taking a break. In her excitement, she’d put some more pepper on those last few numbers than usual. The place is packed now, the staff happily passing around refills and lining their pockets.

Caroline pretends to wind down to stop while Tanis takes a seat at one of the tables to recover. A server brings her a glass of water and she downs it in seconds. She makes a point of staying in practice while on the road but she’d forgotten how intoxicating it could be to play for a crowd, and one where no one wanted your head on a platter to boot.

While she flexes her fingers and rolls her neck in preparation for the next set, Tanis happens to overhear a conversation taking place amongst a group at the next table over.

“All I’m saying is, we know what it's after. Why are we sitting around when we could set a trap and finish the thing off once in for all?”

“If you’re looking for someone to be the bait, I call not it.”

“I don’t think something like that can be killed. My grandpa always says--”

“Nobody cares what the old man says, Jonah. I’m telling you, if it bleeds, you can kill it. That’s just common sense.”

“Excuse me,” Tanis pipes up. “Am I hearing you right? You folks are monster hunters?”

If she were looking, she would see Caroline’s head roll to the side, her good eye following her warily.

“Something like that,” says the woman at the table with a rumbling laugh in her throat. “I’m Luanne and this is Phil, and the kid is Jonah.”

Jonah, a young man with rusty red hair, grumbles under his breath. Phil gives her the barest nod of acknowledgment before launching back into his argument.

“I can’t get to sleep at night knowing those things are still out there, lurking around, feeding off our scraps all fat and happy.”

“If it keeps them from breaking down the wall and carrying us off instead…”

“What’s the point of the wall if monsters are just gonna get in anyway!”

“Ignore the boys. What’s your interest in monster hunting?” asks Luanne. “You thinking about quitting the music business? Trust me, this job doesn’t have as many perks as you’d think.”

“Nah, that’s not for me,” she says. “I’ve run into monsters aplenty on the road, but never on purpose. I just have a knack for getting into trouble, and I was hoping you could point me in the direction of someplace I could get myself a weapon. After tonight I might actually be able to afford it.”

“Don’t waste your money,” Jonah insists sharply. “Monsters can’t be killed, I’m telling you. You can hurt ‘em, sometimes real bad, but they just come back in a new shape.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means. I’m just saying.”

“What are you saying? You think it’s pointless?”

“No, man, you know I’m not. Just that we need to be looking for long-term solutions instead of just shooting or building walls that’ll fall down in another few years. We’re not cavemen. We ought to be studying monsters, finding out what makes ‘em tick.”

“And where are you gonna find a monster to study?”

The younger stammers at that, coming up empty. Tanis smirks against the lip of her glass. Have you ever tried playing music for them until they follow you home?

Soon her time is up and she takes the stage again. By the end of the night she’s collected a hefty bit of coin and she’s more than ready to retire. A couple of the lingering townsfolk meander over to try and make conversation as she finishes collecting her dues, the trio of ameteur hunters among them.

“Don’t quit this music thing,” Luanne tells her. “If you get yourself killed tracking some beasty the world’s gonna be down a damn good singer. You write those songs yourself?”

“Some of them. Most of them are covers. People don’t usually seem to care one way or the other, and writing’s not really my forte.”

“Don’t say that, kid. You put on a hell of a show. Especially with that whole dancing doll shtick.” She gestures at Caroline who’s playing dead on the floor. “Where’d you find this crazy looking thing?”

“Oh, well, she- it used to be a circus prop. I just kind of found her.” Sticking with half-truths feels like the safest bet. She has no idea how she’d explain her away otherwise.

Phil nudges Caroline with the heel of his boot. “Kind of creepy if you ask me.”

“No one asked you, Phil.”

He grunts and turns away. Caroline pops her head up and makes a face behind his back.

Biting back a laugh, Tanis says, “Sorry to cut this short but I am beat.”

She hefts the doll up over her shoulder-- she’s not exactly lightweight, but no heavier than the big bags of flour she would drag out of the storeroom for her mom in the mornings.

“Can we count on catching another show tomorrow night?”

“Sorry, I’ve got to be on my way first thing in the morning. I’ve still got a long road ahead of me.”

“That early? You’re sure in a hurry to get out of dodge.”

There’s something strange about the way he says it. Tanis frowns.

“I just like to get an early start. With that said, goodnight folks.”

She hustles Caroline upstairs and shuts the door tight behind them. The moment she does, the doll springs up, fully animated once more.

“That was great fun!”

Tanis huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

Under the golden lamplight Tanis sorts her bounty of bronze and silver coins into neat piles. Tonight was a better night than most; the folks here aren’t exactly wealthy but with so little trade coming and going what coin they have hasn’t been going anywhere except perhaps into the hands of the bartender, who’s probably faring even better than she.

After a moment’s deliberation she pushes a stack towards Caroline. It’s not quite an equal share but then, she reasons, what’s the doll going to spend it on anyway? Even so, the thought of keeping all the spoils to herself doesn’t sit well when Caroline’s certainly put in as much work.

“For me?” she asks.

“Yup. You did good tonight and no one suspected a thing. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Caroline, if possible, looks even more joyed than is her default state. “I won’t!”

She then tips back her head and pours her earnings down her throat. Tanis can’t claim to understand the creature, but whatever makes her happy.

“I’m ready to turn in. What do you wanna do about this… whole arrangement here?” she asks, yawning as she nods towards the bed.

“Not to worry! I don’t require sleep, nor desire it. If you need me I shall be in your instrument case.”

Her brow wrinkles with a frown. “You sure? It looks like kind of a squeeze.”

“I’m used to resting in boxes. Frankly I prefer it. I suppose you could say it’s in my nature.”

“Whatever floats your boat.” She sheds her outerwear, stripping down to tank top and boxers. The weather’s due to turn before she makes it to Bigge, she thinks; might be worth it to invest in a real coat, maybe some nice thick socks. “‘Night, Caroline.”

“Goodnight, Ms Tanis!”

She puts out the light and closes her eyes. Sleep comes easy, tired as she is, and as dreamlessly as it has been ever since that fateful final show. Nothing short of a new apocalyptic event could get her up once she begins to drift, which is why she’s unpleasantly surprised to find herself awake not a few hours later. That, and the gun barrel tucked underneath her chin.

“God, this better be good,” she groans as the bliss of well-earned rest leaves her.

In the dark she can’t make out the figures standing around her bed. She reaches for the lamp and the shotgun at her throat cocks a warning.

“If you’re here to rob me, couldn’t it at least wait until morning.”

“We don’t want your money, hellspawn,” a voice rasps.

“Well,” says a second. “I wouldn’t say no to--”

“Shut it!”

Tanis recognizes the voices now. The monster hunters, Phil and Jonah, and she’d bargain that’s Luanne hanging back blocking the door.

“What’d I do to you guys? You didn’t like the music or something?”

“Quiet!” Phil shouts. “I knew there was something off about you the moment I saw you, so I decided to do a little investigating. Why don’t you say it again, how ‘no one suspected a thing’.” He gives her another jab with the cold metal of the barrel. “Who were you talking to, all alone in your room? Ain’t nobody here. What devils do you answer to, you traitoring rat?”

Tanis puts up her hands. “Whoa whoa whoa, I think you’ve got the wrong impression of me.”

“I said quiet!”

“You asked me a question.”

Phil continues, “You’re not a monster, not all the way through anyhow, I can tell. But you’re not all the way human neither. I can see it in your eyes. Empty eyes. And that doll of yours, that’s your familiar, isn’t it?”

“Are you gonna let me answer this time or--”

He smacks her hard across the face. She hisses in pain-- that sensation certainly hasn’t run empty.

“You’re a traitor to your own kind, bringing that darkness in past our walls. But now at least we got that live bait we’ve been missing.”

There’s a sudden sound of movement, a scraping against the bare floor from across the room that makes Tanis’ aggressors freeze. It’s Luanne who breaks the tense silence.

“Uh, fellas? What was that?”

On cue, Caroline rises from her makeshift bed with the gravitas of a movie vampire awakening from its crypt. Tanis should’ve expected she’d be the type to relish in dramatics. She cocks her head, surveying the scene around her, and then without further preamble grabs the closest person-- poor unlucky Jonah-- and thrusts him out of her way as casually as if she were rearranging the furniture, crashing him into Luanne and sending them both into the wall.

“No more songs tonight,” she says cheerfully. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Luanne staggers and pushes the young man off of her, thrusting a large hunting knife in the monster’s direction. “Get back, creep!”

“Silly billy, knives are dangerous. Not to me, of course, but to you.”

She knocks the blade out of her hand. Jonah drops his own weapon before she has the chance, his hands trembling too hard to keep his grip.

“Hey!” Phil barks. Caroline’s head swivels towards him. “Maybe I can’t hurt you, but I can sure hurt your master here.”

He grabs her chin and presses his thumb to her swollen lip, swiping up a drop of blood.

“If it bleeds, you can kill it,” he murmurs under his breath like a mantra.

“Silly,” Caroline repeats, taking a step closer. “That’s not my master, that’s Ms Tanis!”

The hunter’s eyes move frantically back and forth, from the doll to the woman. He affects a false bravado and demands, “Then who- who do you answer to, monster?”

“Oh he’s quite dead,” she replies. “I killed him!”

Before he can react, a hand shoots out and grips the man’s neck. His companions, recovering some nerve, shout and grab at her from either side. Their combined weight unbalances the dainty doll but, with her grip unrelenting, she takes their leader with her. His finger locks on the trigger but the panicked shot goes wide. A chorus of frightened screams sounds from outside-- the manager and another couple guests that had gone to fetch her when they heard the sounds of a fight.

Tanis leaps from her bed to wrestle the larger man off of Caroline. The other two have her arms pinned down and for a moment she goes very still, but as Jonah leans in to investigate, a bizarre whining noise sounds from deep in the doll’s throat and a stream of coins begin to shoot out of her mouth. Jonah screams and falls backward clutching his face, Luanne soon to follow.

“What demon do you serve!” Phil howls.

Tanis grimaces as spittle flies into her face. “You are really stuck on that, huh?”

She grunts and puts all her strength into shoving the man over, cracking his head against the nightstand.

“I don’t fucking serve anybody.” She spits. “Asshole.”

When the manager finally gets the door open, the scene is not a charitable one. There’s a man unconscious on the floor with a probable broken nose, his friends scrambling for the door in terror, a bullethole in the ceiling, while the traveler and her seven foot living wind-up toy stand amidst the chaos.

“Okay, I can explain.”

“Is that blood,” the manager deadpans, going pale.

Indeed a sizable puddle has formed around Phil’s head where he lies. Tanis sucks in a breath through her teeth.

“I didn’t mean to hit him that hard,” she mutters under her breath. “I mean, he deserved it, but still.”

She nudges him with her foot and hears a faint, gurgling groan.

“No worries, he’s still alive.”

“I don’t care about that!” hisses the manager. “Shut the window, fool! Monsters can smell fresh blood from miles away!”

Tanis looks to Caroline as if to say, Did you know about this? Caroline shrugs.

“I think that’s just a myth.”

There’s a loud, guttural shriek from somewhere outside the inn, followed by the shuck shuck shuck of claws piercing the walls, coming rapidly closer. A toothsome muzzle crams its way through the window and starts snapping blindly at the air. The onlookers scatter, and even Tanis has the wherewithal to leap back and out of the way of those grasping jaws. It sniffs wolfishly and a long barbed tongue protracts from its maw, flopping onto the floor.

“Geez louise,” Tanis remarks. “Just can’t catch a break tonight. Caroline, can you, I dunno, talk that thing down?”

“I shall try!”

She walks over to where the creature’s head remains stuck in the window.

“Pardon me, but you are being very disruptive and I--”

The monster’s tongue lashes out and smacks her in the face. It probes into her exposed socket and, apparently deciding that whatever the doll has in place of blood is good enough, begins straining to pull her into its mouth. Tanis yanks her away just in time.

“Oh dear, that was not very polite.”

“Why’s it wanna hurt you? You’re a monster too!”

“You’re a human, and those other humans were hurting you.”

“Huh. Fair enough.”

The wooden panels around the window begin to strain dangerously as the bloodsucker starts to push through.

“Okay, we gotta go.” She rushes to collect her things and then, with a sigh, grabs onto Phil’s unconscious body to drag him out of the room. “Help me pull.”

Caroline does so, but not before asking, “Are we rescuing this man? Even though he wanted to hurt you and called you nasty names?”

“Yeah,” she huffs. “It kind of sucks, but that’s just what people do.”

Together they drag Phil into the hallway and slam the door behind them, though it’s anyone’s guess how long it’ll hold. Hopefully the pool of blood will keep the creature occupied for a short time while the other guests evacuate. Luckily there are few of them, so a short time is just enough.

Drawn out by the commotion, townspeople begin to pour out of their homes and into the street. In the chaos and confusion, nobody seems to notice the traveler and her doll fleeing the scene.

Tanis makes a beeline for the gate. “I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I’m ready to get the hell out of dodge.”

“Will they be safe?” asks Caroline.

Tanis stops and stares at her. “What?”

“With that large bitey fellow on the loose? Will the audience be alright?”

It’s hard to divine much emotion from Caroline’s wooden features, but in this moment Tanis can tell she’s being sincere.

“Why do you care about something like that?”

“It’s a good entertainer’s responsibility to make sure the audience is happy.”

She points at the crowd that’s forming in the town square: a handful of soldiers-- if they can even be called as much-- with their meager armory of shotguns and spears and some assorted farm tools, and the huddled mass of paralyzed civilians trying to think of where to run to. Many are still recovering from the last attack of this kind. They don’t have the means to defend themselves the way they need, nor to flee the way they should, and the resident monster hunters are either unconscious or god-knows-where.

“They don’t look very happy.”

“What am I supposed to do about that? No, really, Caroline. If you’ve got an idea, I’m all ears. Just because I’m fearless doesn’t mean I’m suicidal.”

The doll seems to think on this for a moment before she simply says, “Turn my key.”

Tanis gives her a dubious look. “The key that makes you act like even more of an evil Looney Toon? The last time I did that you kinda tried to kill me.”

“I did not! I wanted to keep you from the danger.” She actually sounds offended at the accusation. “I wanted to keep you safe in my circus forever. I couldn’t understand why you would want to go out into the big scary world, where people are unkind and ever so unhappy.”

She doesn’t frown necessarily, but she hangs her head, one lonesome blue eye staring into her own.

“But when you sing, you make people happy. When you make them happy, you are happy too. I do not think you want to run away.”

Tanis watches Caroline. She listens to her speak. She groans, frustrated to realize that, against all odds, the big goofy clown doll is right. “Turn around.”

Caroline claps her hands with glee as Tanis grips her key, still faintly tacky to the touch. She turns it once, twice, thrice, until she can’t turn it anymore. The doll spins around with a revitalized sort of glow and begins bounding towards the beast as it bursts through the wall of the building.

What else is there for Tanis to do? She follows after her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, this is the greatest show on what’s left of earth!”

A spotlight shines from nowhere, brilliantly illuminating the daring dancer. As the soldiers’ weapons glance ineffectually off the bloodsucker’s hide, Caroline overtakes them and kicks it square across the face, causing the beast to stagger a few steps backwards.

At her command, a swarm of chattering windup dolls appear out of the night. Spectral and red-eyed, they pile their porcelain bodies on top of the ravenous creature. When crushing one knee-high nuisance doesn’t yield any blood or ichor, it hisses its displeasure and tosses the rest off. It stomps and snaps them until they return to nothingness, but the attack disorients it, enough for Caroline to gain the definitive upperhand.

She seizes it by the scruff, wrenches its mouth open, and rips out its long propping tongue. The beast howls in ear-splitting pain, more of that syrupy dark substance dripping from its fanged mouth. Caroline pulls the tongue taught in her hands and cracks it against the creature’s forepaw like a whip. She faces the townsfolk.

“And now, a spectacle unlike you’ve ever seen! The dancing doll tames the ferocious beast!”

She evades another snap of its jaws and climbs atop its back, straddling it and wrapping its own tongue around its meaty neck. The monster begins to rear back, swiping at the doll with its claws. Those grasping paws, clever enough to scale walls, find purchase on her leg.

“Uh oh!” the doll remarks.

It flings her to the ground.

“Caroline!” Tanis yells. “Just kill it already!”

“Oh but where’s the fun in that?”

Nevertheless, she pulls back her free leg and jabs her heel into one beady black eye with a gruesome squelching noise.

“Now, for my final trick, I’ll make this rude fellow disappear!”

The mystical spotlight goes out, in fact every light in town goes out, and from somewhere Tanis can hear the sound of a drumroll. When the lights return, the monster has indeed vanished, replaced by a pile of ichorous innards which have been strewn about the town square. A few members of the “audience” begin to retch.

“Ta-da!”

It’s probably not the reception she was hoping for, but there’s one person in the crowd clapping. The fantastic dancing doll takes a sweeping bow, more gore sloughing off and onto the cobblestone below.

“So that’s a town we can never go back to.”

Caroline pouts, as much as she can. “I thought it was a lovely show.”

Tanis shrugs. “You can’t please everybody.”

She’s back on the road, strumming a few notes on her guitar as she walks along. She’d offered to hold onto it so Caroline could have some more wiggle room as she rode along on her back. The extra baggage wasn’t exactly ideal, but despite single-handedly taking down a monster twice her size, traversing wide open spaces still made the doll nervous after so long spent confined to one place. It was the least she could do for her, she figured.

Besides being a real powerhouse when it comes to fighting humans and other monsters alike, Caroline had become an invaluable addition to Tanis’ little traveling act. She made more than twice the tips as she usually did when Caroline was dancing along to her songs. Everyone was always so perplexed: how did she make that doll move like that? It was almost like she was alive!

Yeah, almost. She snickers to herself.

“Are you thinking of a joke? May I hear it?”

“Nah, just getting lost in my own head again,” she says.

Privately, there’s another reason she’s glad to have kept Caroline by her side. It’s strange, she thinks, to have found a companion in a creature like her. A friend, even.

“Where will we be touring next, Ms Tanis?”

“For now we just keep heading east.” She glances back at the doll. Her head is poking out of the case, watching her again. It’s probably a good thing she’s physically incapable of finding that as creepy as it undoubtedly is. Instead, she just shoots her a sideways grin and says, “You know, you don’t have to keep calling me ‘miss’. Just Tanis is fine.”

“Okay, Ms Just Tanis!”

“Oh so she’s got jokes.”

“I know lots of jokes. What’s big and grey with lots of great big horns?”

“I don’t know but I hope it’s not following us.”

“An elephant marching band!”

God, that was terrible. “Ha. Good one, Caroline.”

“I know more!”

“Why don’t you hold onto those for now. Wouldn’t want to waste ‘em all on me before you’ve got a proper audience.”

“I will, but not because it would be a waste. Even if I was to never have another show, I should enjoy telling them to you very much.”

It’s quiet for a while after that, and Tanis, more than used to the solitude, has almost forgotten about her passenger until she pipes up once more.

“Ms- Pardon me, Tanis. What’s that tune you’re playing?”

Without hardly noticing Tanis’ hands have been feeling out the shape of a familiar melody, a slow and sentimental thing.

“Ah, it’s just this old country song I used to practice with a lot when I was still just learning. It’s funny, I can’t actually remember the last time I played it. I wanted to be a rockstar for so long, you know. But then once I was on my own again, after everything, it’s these sort of songs I ended up coming back to.”

She expects Caroline to request something more cheery, but she merely settles her head against her shoulder and lapses back into silence. For the first time since that night Tanis finds herself thinking of what the peculiar doll had told her. She had said that her singing made people happy. What did that mean for someone like her who was always happy anyway? Or seemed to be, that is.

Does my singing make you happy, Caroline? Is that the real reason you started following me?

Softly, uncertain as the kid at her first audition she could barely remember being, Tanis lets her voice rise.

“This world is not my home

I'm just passing through

My treasures are laid up

Somewhere beyond the blue…”

#my writing #horror #comedy #original fiction #writeblr #monsters #clowns

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forgiven-whimsy · 4 years

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Under Thanalan’s Sun

My first late entry for the 30 day WOL challenge, I probably won’t be doing one a day, but will hit the list at my own pace. This is the Laugh prompt. This is also my first piece of fic in over 10 months. Forgive the rust.

Read on A03: Here

“This isn’t going to work.” Thancred turned at the now familiar voice, newly minted Scion of the Seventh Dawn, Shiloh, emerged from their room wearing the same weathered linens he was wearing. The linens were the cheap and simple clothing of Thanalan’s poor. And to Thancreds eye she looked the part of destitute peddler in need of succor, or the perfect patsy for the false priests praying on the good folk of Camp Drybone.

“What makes you say that?” Thancred gave her a once over, once again seeing nothing wrong with his chosen disguise.

“We stick out, even with these clothes, if our kidnappers have been targeting Drybone, then they’ll have marked us,” She pointed at her horns, and flicked her forked tail for emphasis. “While I truly appreciate the non-reaction you and the other scions gave me as an Au Ra in Eorzea, you lot are the exception, not the rule. They’ll have noticed an Auri adventurer, and suddenly there’s a destitute Auri beggar? It stinks of a trap.”

She made a good point.

“And you! Handsome white haired adventurer with a neck tattoo, you’re not trying very hard.” She cocked her hips at him, and Thancred touched his tattoo, he was supposed to be mentoring her, and if he was being honest, hoping to show off a bit. He tried not to let his pride swell when she called him handsome, that wasn’t the point of her comment. Shiloh had an eye for details, and these were details he should have caught.

“Ah, yes, you’re right, of course.” He cleared his throat. He spied the linen sac their disguise had come in, “head coverings are fairly common in Thanalan, so, if we,” he tore the bag in two, before wrapping one half over Shiloh’s head, arranging the material over her horns, made it look like a poor man’s turban. “There, that’s better, we can use the dust to dirty you up a bit, and at a distance, the natural assumption would be that you are Miqo’te or Hyur. Keep your back to the rocks and shrubs, our query won’t get a close enough look until it’s too late.”

This wasn’t the first rookie mistake he’d made on this mission, her first. His eyes more often following her instead of staying alert to his surroundings, his mind drifting to thoughts of her instead of the task at hand. She was driving him to distraction. Thancred had an appreciation for her sharp instincts, that she was clever, kind, and lovely besides wasn’t helping. He had a weakness for beautiful women, it wasn’t exactly a secret, and under normal circumstances, he would lay on the charm until they had a tumble in his bed, and he got her out of his system. Problem was that she was a peer and colleague, and the other scions were trusting him to keep her safe and show her the ropes, not to mention he would need to work with her again, and a physical entanglement would make things awkward, never mind the thrashing Yda would give him for bedding her friend. Wasn’t it just like him to always want what he couldn’t have.

To add insult to injury, all Thancred had managed to do was embarrass himself. Some rogue, at this point she’d managed to save his backside not once, but twice. The first time it was a well timed barrier that deflected an Amalj'aa arrow, the second they’d wandered too close to a rutting aldgoat bull and Shiloh had managed to keep the beast at bay with some well timed and well aimed magic stones. He needed to get a hold of himself. Yda’s words rang in his ears, be good, and keep your hands to yourself. He hadn’t needed to see her eyes to feel the fire behind her mask when she’d pulled him aside. He’d shrugged her off, told her he was a professional above all, and that she didn’t need to worry about her friend. And yet, he caught himself staring again, she was adjusting the half sac on her head and appeared pleased with his solution, he let some of the tension he was holding in his shoulders out. He could do this, easy.

“Now to do something about you,” Shiloh pulled the other half of the sac off the ground where it had fallen, and tore it into strips. She took a step towards him, close enough he could smell her, the dirty rags she was wearing doing a poor job of masking her natural scent of soft florals. He inhaled sharply when she lifted her hands towards him, she stopped short of touching, giving him a crooked grin, pale golden eyes dancing under her long lashes, as if she was privy to a private joke, and he wasn’t. She cleared her throat, but Thancred was glued in place, “you’re choker, could you take it off? I’ll wrap your neck up with these, make it look like a wound, and hide that tattoo.” She nodded towards him, and after another short second Thancred got his arms moving, removing his trademark white choker.

Thancred wasn’t sure what it was about Shiloh that turned him back into an untried boy, what it was about her that made him so bloody nervous, she was hardly the first sweet natured woman to have crossed his path. He’d watched her in Ul'dah, defending an innocent woman, and while impressed he’d managed to maintain his regular decorum around her when he invited her to the Waking Sands. While making introductions at the Sands, he’d even been able to flirt a little. He’d been excited to work with her, eager to see what it was Yda and Paplymo had seen in her, and he had. He’d seen a woman who took her time, used her head, considered her options. He’d seen a woman with a soft spot for children, and infinite compassion and empathy for others; she was too trusting, but Thancred imagined that would correct itself with more experience in the field. But as their week in Drybone dragged on, he met a woman with a sardonic edge to her wit, hospital humour, she’d called it. She was quick to remind him she was a healer first, and she was, whenever they met the Amalj'aa in skirmishes, she wove her healing magic seamlessly, he could feel the constant glow of her magic while he fought, could see the elusive shimmer of her shields deflecting arrows, all while manipulating earth, and air, and water to devastating effect. More than that, Thancred met a woman with a natural infectious joy, whose smile couldn’t help but be answered in kind. There was a warmth he couldn’t describe, he only knew he felt lighter, happier, when he was with her.

He jumped when he felt her cold fingers at his throat, “sorry, bad circulation.” She gave him a sheepish shrug, “actually could you sit down, might be less awkward?” She cleared her throat, and took a step back, her cheeks going pink.

“Right.” she finished dressing his fake wound with practiced ease, when she was done his Archon tattoo was effectively hidden. Shiloh touched his hair, biting her lip, “I suppose if we dirty you up enough we could make it look something other than white.”

Thancred wiped his sweating palms on his borrowed linen trousers, she was standing between his knees. Slowly he lifted his hands to her hips, she startled at his touch, “shall we go get dirty then, my dear?” He gently pushed her away so that he could stand, only now they stood chest to chest, his hands still on her hips. The fetching blush on her cheeks had deepend, touching her neck, and disappearing under her borrowed tunic. Shiloh stepped away, quickly, her voice an octave higher when she agreed. That he was affecting her in such a way didn’t help his imagination. He shook his head and gave her what he hoped was a charming smile, and headed towards the door, she followed after him. Keep your hands to yourself , Thancred never was very good at following directions, he flexed his fingers.

Shiloh felt like a teenager with a crush, and this was hardly the time for it. Thancred wasn’t the first handsome and charming man she’d ever met, nor would he be the last. Yda’s warning rang in her head every time he gave her that crooked smile of his, he’s a cad and a womanizer, he’ll flirt the pants right off of you if you give him the chance, be smart. The problem was the longer she spent with him, the less she wanted to be smart.

Despite the heat, and the blushing, and the flirting their plan worked, and they managed to uncover the plot behind the disappearances, the same idiot who had tried to lie to her in Uldah was, behind it, selling the poor of Camp Drybone to the Amalj'aa, disgusting and shameful. She watched Thancred head back to town, his arm slung around their new catspaw, he would coordinate their next move with the Immortal Flames, as he had the connections.

Shiloh pulled the half sack off her head and shook the sand and dirt from her blonde hair, she could feel the sand between her scales, could hear the faint crackle of it in her inner ear whenever she turned her head, the grit had even worked its way into her mouth, the rest sticking to her skin. Shiloh hated the desert. The sun was high in the sky, waves of heat distorting the scenery, and she understood why it was that Ul'dahn society made a habit of mid afternoon naps. Better to sleep through the worst of the heat then toil in it. Shiloh had a mind to do just that, but rather than drudge back to camp Drybone, she eyed the watering hole but a few fulms away. The animals in the surrounding area were either huddled in sparse shade or nestled in their burroughs, and the people from the town would be taking their afternoon nap, she pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. Shiloh pulled off the rest of her disguise, and climbed into the water in her small clothes, a light camisole and her underwear. The water was shallow and warm, like a tepid bath, but it rinsed the sand from her skin and scales. She climbed onto a large flat rock, content to let the light breeze dry her, the sun and cicadas lulled her to sleep.

Shiloh dozed, hovering at the edge of sleep and let her mind wander back to Thancred and the feel of his hands on her hips, the mischief in his eyes. She knew he was flirting with her, she liked the attention, he had a way of making her feel seen, heard, important. Despite Yda’s warning, she found that she sensed no malice coming from Thancred. Every time he called her darling or dear she felt her face heat up, but the smile he gave her when he noticed he affected her was addicting. They were dancing around each, circling closer with every pass, testing to see how far they could push each other, what kinds of small touches were permissible, innuendo a constant game. It was reckless, but it was fun, and it had been long years since she’d allowed herself to have fun, not since before the Calamity. She wondered idly what it would be like to kiss or be kissed by a self avowed scoundrel. She’d known her share growing up in Limsa Lominsa, and she’d very smartly rebuffed their advances, despite her curiosity, because it was safe thing to do, because she knew better. Be smart, Shiloh was finding that smart was boring, and that perhaps she’d been boring for long enough.

Her musings were interrupted when she heard steps through the dry grass. She mumbled an aero spell under her breath; the steps sounded more man than beast. When the walking stopped she rolled onto her haunches in one fluid movement and cast her spell...at nothing.

“Wha..”

“You had me worried, you know.” Thancreds voice was behind her, how, she twisted to see him standing on the bank of the water hand on hips, and she felt his eyes sweep over her, open appreciation on his face. Shit.

A stammered explanation, an attempt to cover herself with her hands, and her embarrassment at being caught in such a state all resulted in a rather inelegant scream which saw her lose her footing and tumble into the water. She watched his face change in slow motion, from smug grin to surprise, and then her head was beneath the shallow water, and he was splashing in after her. He pulled her up to sitting and she choked and sputtered all over him while he rubbed her back and pulled a length of waterlogged grass from her hair. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.” She gasped between coughing fits.

Thancreds face was barely concealed mirth behind a thin mask of concern, Shiloh could see his lips and cheeks twitching from the strain. “Go on then, get it out of your system.” She splashed his already soaked tunic while he erupted in uproarious laughter. She blamed her body wide blush on the sun.

“Gods, I’m sorry.” Thancred managed between fits of laughing.

“We both know you’re not.” Shiloh gave him a playful shove.

“You’re right,” He laughed leaning back into the water no longer caring that his own clothes were soaked.

Shiloh took the opportunity to stand, doing anything to regain some semblance of dignity, in her hurry to grab her tunic from the shore she tripped on Thancreds outstretched legs and she fell, and screamed, again. He had the wherewithal to catch her, and they both tumbled back into the water. He pulled them both back up, she was flush with his chest while he propped himself up on an elbow. Shiloh buried her face in his shoulder succumbing to her own laughter, while he continued to shake with his own.

“Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce you to the Scion’s newest recruit. A hero for the ages, Shiloh Mitka,” Thancred said.

Shiloh lifted her head, having lost her battle with dignity for the day, embracing the moment, “behold Hydalyn's chosen,” She gave Thancred a playful grin, before they both dissolved back into giggles.

Eventually they both stopped laughing, Shiloh felt Thancreds hand replace the thin strap of her camisole back onto her shoulder. His hand trailed down her spine tracing the scales at the base, making her shiver against him. Shiloh exhaled in a huff, hyper aware of his heat, the breath against her skin and horn. His face was close, so close she could see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes; saw how they darted to her lips when she wet them. Thancred brushed the water from her cheeks with his thumb.

A herd of Aldgoats brayed close enough to make them both jump and separate, “we should head back, you can fill me in on the particulars of the plan.” Shiloh stood again, this time Thancred offered his hand and they climbed out together. She dressed quickly, heart still beating out of her chest. Her lips tingled with lost opportunity. There was a time and place, and the day before a major operation was not it, when they were done with their work, maybe...Shiloh bit her lower lip.

They headed back towards Camp Drybone, Thancred giving her the particulars of the plan, it would be an ambush, she with one group of Flames, he with the other. With any luck they would stop the summoning before it began.

Back in their room Shiloh hurried behind the screen and changed out of her still wet underthings, Thancred did the same on the other side. Fully dressed and dry Shiloh asked what questions she could think of for the following day. Her nerves were catching up with her, in her short time as an adventurer, she’d faced monsters and beastmen, and won, emphatically, but the stakes felt higher this time, she'd been raised on stories of Primals, she knew how devastating they could be. While she could use and was adept at her offensive spells, they weren't her specialty, the idea of fighting, alone no less, was a frightening prospect, the echo would protect her from the Primal's influence, but fire was still fire. Thancred must have sensed her nervousness, and stepped closer, putting his hands on her shoulders, “I’ll be right behind you, I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise.”

“Right,” Shiloh licked her lips, and shook her head, “right, we can do this.”

“You are a hero for the ages after all.” Thancred grinned at her, face soft and hazel eyes warm.

“You think so?” Shiloh stepped into his space , and he tensed, his eyes tracking her, lifting an eyebrow at her boldness.

“You.” Thancred closed the gap between them, threading fingers into her hair, the other hand circling her waist, “are special.”He lowered his head to hers stopping short of her lips, playfully rubbing his nose with hers, “this is a terrible idea,” he husked, tilting Shiloh’s head up towards his.

“The worst.” Shiloh got up on her tiptoes, winding her arms up from his chest to around his neck, and kissed him, gentle and curious, she sighed into him, and he took full advantage, expertly pulling her against him, and deepening the kiss, tasting her lips, her tongue, her breath, and she returned his ardor tracing his tattoo with curious fingers, something she’d wanted to do since meeting him, he moaned into their kiss so she did it again. They kissed each other breathless, and senseless. Breaking and panting for breath. Thancred pressed his forehead to hers.

“As much as I would love to ravish you here, now, I’m expected in Ul'dah.” Thancred pet the scales on her cheeks with his thumbs, taking a small step back. “And you need your rest. If it comes to it, and Ifrit is summoned, it will fall to you, and the echo, to overcome him.”

Shiloh bit her kiss swollen lips, nodding.

“If you were amenable, after all is said and done...and if you haven't come to your senses, there’s a waterfall not far from here that I think you might enjoy.” He kissed her, capturing her breath, growling low in his throat, chasing away her uncertainty and doubt, “and it's far more private then the watering hole.”

“I’d like that.” she whispered a reply, dazed and giddy.

He nodded at her and gave her a dashing smile, “right then, I’ll see you in the morning at the appointed hour. Rest well.”

Shiloh gave him a smile and a wave, and immediately fell onto her bed after the door closed. Gods she’d never been kissed like that, touched like that, she covered her face with a pillow. Her whole body tingled, and she kicked her legs a bit. She knew deep down that Thancred was right and what they were doing was a terrible idea. She just couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.

#seaswolchallenge #ffxiv #Thancred x wol #ffxiv arr #Shiloh Mitka #My Oc #Exposed writes Fan fic #does the I'm not nervous dance

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thesaltyoceanwaves · 5 years

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Account of Resistance Fighter Saltybug - Hive Mind Bad Ending Metafic

A/N: Please be aware that this is a fictionalized account of my RP experiences during Hive Mind. If it sounds too harsh or serious... well, that’s just my character. It’s not real, and I don’t mean to offend anyone. I know some people got upset or didn’t care for the content during the whole thing, but again, I mean no harm. It’s just a bit of fun.

One of the bunker doors swings open. The contents inside are empty. All of the resistance’s rooms seem sparse, you realize. But this one has been occupied up until not too long ago.

Still curious, you step inside.

There’s a book sitting on a desk. The cover is a plain brown. You skim through the pages and see someone’s handwriting.

It appears to be a diary.

Do you wish to continue reading?

March 26

Something... strange is happening around here.

All sorts of people have been contacting @nobodyfamousposts about joining the Hive. What was once a story has now become reality. And all sorts of people have been inducted into this cult.

Yeah, I don’t like this.

I don’t think I have much to worry about though. It’s not as if people are going to be directly targeting me. If I say nothing, I’d probably be nothing more than a ghost. Wouldn’t even register as a blip on the Hive’s radar.

...

...Maybe I should look for a bunker or something, just in case. Somewhere extreme and with uninviting weather.

March 27

I’ve managed to find some locations with pretty extreme weather conditions. Places like [redacted]. I also considered somewhere up in [redacted] but I hate the cold. Winter just ended and I just started pulling out my spring/summer clothes! I don’t want to have to take it all out again! Ugh, this is so inconvenient, but whatever. I’m still not a target and I could probably get away safely.

Still, I have a good variety of locations that the Hive will never touch. I hope. At the very least, it’d be a pain for them to reach. I don’t mind trekking through treacherous locations - I like the challenge!

It also seems some people are resisting the Hive.

Hm...

March 28

I had a change of heart.

At first, I was simply going to sit back and comment on the events unfolding around me, all from the safety of [redacted].

But upon hearing that @gale-of-the-nomads (or as I prefer to call him, Cult Penguin), cornered and captured Nemo, I decided then and there that I could no longer run away. Even when they were left alone, I decided to stand by my decision and declared boldly that the Resistance would win. My declaration did not go unnoticed by fellow resistance member @livanarose.

Something got me thinking though that the key to winning has to do with finding Adrien and subjecting him to bird feathers. We can’t just overwhelm the entire Hive with them, I guess, but can you really trust the word of a cult member?

It seems that the Hive lacks any sense of humor. Imagine living such a humorless, unimaginative life with all your privacy constantly invaded, 24/7.

Thank you, next!

March 29

@lenoreofraven has gone too far. Not only has their cult sullied the good name of pastries, but now puppies too!

INCONCEIVABLE!

Such a crime, will not go unpunished! Thankfully, my bold declaration and love for MCU movies seems to have gained me another ally in @apex-primus. I’m glad to have another comrade in arms!

Around day’s end, I ended up making a playlist to rally the troops. There is so much Hive propaganda, that it seems the voice of the Resistance is lost. Mostly, we respond to their lies. So I figured, it’s time to change that. And what’s a better way to get people pumped than listening to a lot of music that mostly makes you feel awesome or you should go pump iron at the gym? Some commentary on the tracks I included:

--> The other day, @jacquesthepigeon proved how effective trolling the Hive can be. What’s a better way to show appreciation than include the Jonas Brothers?

--> Along an anonymous “Owl”, Cult Penguin and Raven have formed a bird squad. "Swan Song” is my (my because I refuse to speak for the Resistance as a whole. We are individuals) response to that. A swan song usually refers to someone’s last performance before retirement. See the irony?

--> “Libera Me from Hell” - opera = the Hive, rap = the Resistance. Also, “Row, row fight the power!” is such an amazing thing to chant.

--> Soundtrack music from Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Personally speaking, the movie has so many wonderful memories from what I first saw it. But one of the quotes I remember the best is: “The price of freedom is high. Always has been. It’s a price I’m willing to pay. And if I’m the only one, so be it. But I’m willing to bet I’m not.”

I don’t think everything on here represents everyone in the Resistance, so I’m open to people sending in suggestions. To have different genres, different bands and artists, different time periods on there would be great.

For now, though, it’s a start.

After that, I once again attempted to debunk more Hive propaganda. Raven has the audacity to speak of “peace”.

Um, newsflash? Brainwashing isn’t peace.

And if anyone actually thinks that the Hive will just stop after taking Marinette, they’re incredibly naive. Anyone that doesn’t follow the order of the Hive is seen as weird or a threat. Anyone who is scared is just to told that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Even if it was for a silly reason, I would never tell anyone how and when to feel afraid. They feel that way for a reason. They’re entitled to that. How they deal with that is what’s important.

And sure, we may be more violent than them, but there’s a reason for that.

Despite all this, livana suggested that we go along with a peace treaty, at least for now. I still think the situation is shady, and she agrees. Apex isn’t convinced either, but I suppose we’ll just play nice for now. We’re sitting tight for news on Monday, but of course, keeping our guards up.

March 30

Already, I’ve gotten some requests for the playlist! I mean, I’m pretty sure they’re all from the same person, but requests are still requests! And Apex’s comment really struck a chord with me. Damn, I’m such an emotional dork when it comes to that movie. Nobody also really seemed to like it too!

I’m still not so secretly taking joy in watching people rip into the Hive. Trying to induct more people into your cult? Ha! Have a face full of pillow instead!

March 31

The Hive has captured and brainwashed Marinette.

Fuck.

...

This is why we can never have peace with the Hive. Allow them whatever they want, and they will consume you whole. I have no doubts that their greed will grow and they will pursue everyone left to add to their little cult.

And the day seemed so promising when I saw another brave soul stepped up to the plate to tackle Hive propaganda. Thank you, @nerd-in-the-basement. Hopefully, you’re safe.

Our best option for now is to retreat to the backup bunkers.

Right now, the only solace I have is that somewhere out there, in the great wide universe, there is a timeline in which we have overcome the Hive. In another world, they are no longer a threat to humanity and individuality.

I can’t give up on making this timeline better though. There has to be a solution to overthrowing the Hive. We just need time to figure out what it is. Finding Adrien is key. Also, bird feathers. Lots of bird feathers.

For now, we play defense.

For now, we live in shadow.

...

To the Hive:

You might have Marinette, but you will never destroy our hope.

So continue to spread your lies. Continue to try and force people into your cult. Eventually, you will regret everything you’ve done.

I dare you to try and find me.

Because if you thought I was violent or scary before, you won’t like me now.

I’ll show you no mercy.

To fellow Resistance fighters that may stumble upon this:

I leave this account here for your sake. All the important information is blotted out, but I think you’ll know where to go. What to do.

It’s okay to be upset.

But do not despair.

There is still hope.

The Hive will not overtake us. They will not have our freedom, our individuality, our lives. Because they only know what it means to exist, not live. And we’ll make sure they know that.

If you wish to seek me out, I will be waiting for you in one of our locations. We can even train together to prepare for the inevitable.

Viva la Resistance! May it guide your path!

...

That was the latest entry. It seems you’ve reached the end of the diary.

You’re left pondering a question:

Should you seek out xxxsaltybugxxx?

#miraculous ladybug #ml au #ml creepy #hive #hive mind #hive mind au #fight the hive #viva la resistance!#metafic #hive mind bad end

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mysticsparklewings · 4 years

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NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 24: Fruit of Choice

spherical black voids hanging from ominous red vines leaves just as green pluck one, watch it bleed a taste tart and poison yet they grow like weeds ____ So today's prompt was fairly simple; Describe a fruit of your choice. At first, I was overwhelmed by options, as there are a fair amount of fruits I like that could've chosen to write about, but me being me I did want something slightly more interesting and deep than just describing the deliciousness of a nice hard Pink Lady apple or the fresh sweetness of a firm kiwi. And then I remembered a deceptive little thing that is a fruit by way of technicality; meaning this is one plant part you wouldn't want anywhere near your plate. The little monsters are known as Pokeberries/Pokeweed or Inkberries. As the poem says, they grow without much prompting in a weed-like fashion in more rural areas. The berries themselves are indeed as black as ink, growing on deep reddish-pink vines with yellowy-green leaves like you might find on a number of other less dangerous plants. If you pick a few berries off one of the sparse but grape-like smaller vines, you'll probably notice immediately the vibrant, pinkish juice they produce. And if you were to pop one in your mouth, which you should not do, you'd be greeted by a strange kind of tart flavor that bites your tongue and would be considered unpleasant by most, though tart-lovers may find it endearing in its own way. Now, why do I know so much about how Pokeberries taste despite saying twice now that you shouldn't eat them? Funny story about that... I ate them a lot as kid, actually. I should probably be dead. (And for the record, I don't eat them anymore, now that I know better, nor do I condone doing so just because I got extremely lucky.) I live out in the middle of nowhere and have all my life. We have Pokeweeds all over in the Summer. I learned about the berries from my dad, who thought they were Elderberries. He would eat them sometimes, and I tried them and liked them. I would go pick little vines full of them and eat a good handful or so at a time some days. I never got sick, never felt ill afterword. The only ill effects I ever felt was that once or twice when I'd get a lot of the juice on my hands, my hands would be a little itchy. Which is a known and expected side effect, better known as "contact dermatitis." That's it. (Well, and some of my bathroom trips would be tinted purple later, but that wasn't any more concerning than a lot of vegetables tinting said trips green.) It wouldn't be until a couple of years ago that I looked up elderberries when someone asked me in a conversation if they were poisonous (short answer: Technically no.) and I saw the pictures and realized those were not the berries I'd happily eaten over the years. So, naturally, I jumped down the rabbit hole to figure out what I actually had been eating. Imagine my horror to find out I'd consumed a good amount, year after year as a small child, of berries that for all intents and purposes should've at least made me sick, if not actually killed me. After some deeper research, the best answer for why I am still alive comes in the form of, as far as I can tell, the poison in the berries is mostly in the seeds. (Although I'm still not completely sure what kind of poison it is, if it has a name besides "Pokeberry Seed Poison") And also from what I can tell, the seeds are so hard/thickly coated, much like Rosary Peas which contain abrin, that they usually can't be chewed open and aren't easily broken down in the digestive system. Moral of the story: Be extremely careful in identifying edible and non-edible plants in your yard before eating them or encouraging others to do so. Just because I got very lucky and didn't die doesn't mean there isn't real danger lurking there. After all that, I think it's fairly obvious why I chose these sneaky berries as my subject for today. It still baffles and amazes me to this day that I survived unscathed with how many of those I ate as a small child. It fascinated me that by all accounts on the internet they're so dangerous and yet...here I am, typing this very story. This isn't the most exciting "hey guys wanna hear about how I should be dead right now," story on the planet, but I think it's pretty compelling, all things considered. I think having described the berries probably explains more of the mandala, too. I had the immediate idea of making the main motif modeled after the little berry vines with accents here and there for the leaves and roots, and some for the juice. Which I honestly think would make for gorgeous use in dyes or pigments--I can't emphasize enough how pretty of a color it is, and I have no gel pen currently at my disposal that can mimic the color properly, but I did my best here. Same with the vines, actually. I used my "black" Sparkle Pop that shows up more as the rich red glitter in the ink, but it's still a bit dark and missing a hint of purple to accurately portray the Pokeweed vines. I hope we all enjoyed that surprisingly dark trip down memory lane. At the very least, as scary as it is in reality, thinking of what could have happened, it does make for a good story and something to halfway-laugh about now. Hopefully, tomorrow's prompt will be something that just as easily comes to me and won't also be poison hiding in plain sight. 6 more days to go! ____ Artwork/Poem © me, MysticSparkleWings Inspired by FridgePoetProject ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

#napowrimo

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vulpinesaint · 5 years

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Nyctophobia - Ch. 7

Sebastian trusts one person entirely and completely-and it certainly isn’t the strange boy who washed up on the shore of his island kingdom.

After a disastrous turn of events, however, the pair are forced off on an adventure through a land that neither of them know anything about. With a bard, a spy, and maybe a bit of magic, they’ll have to fight hard to get back home…

Wherever home is.

link to chapter one

link to all chapters (mobile)

link to all chapters (desktop)

Chapter Seven - The Town By The Water

Caelux found this new society strange.

Granted, it’s wasn’t new, but it was new-er, and she kept seeing echoes of her own civilization in their strange little culture. A word here and there. A custom or two. The accents were the strangest—it was the same language, but it was different, somehow.

“Well, yes, but these humans have another language as well,” Aturia said, when Caelux brought it up. “Their northern kingdoms weren’t a part of ours back then.”

“Of course you’d know,” Erinis said, tone stinging. It caught Caelux off-guard. Sure, Erinis never missed an opportunity to mock Aturia, but she was a sweet person, otherwise. Lately, though, it seemed as if her jibes at their companion had been growing more serious. There was a poison to her tone that Caelix had never heard before.

“And what do you suppose you mean by that?” Aturia turned on Erinis with thorns in her voice.

“Stop it, you two.” The high pitch of Caelux’s voice caught her off guard. She was used to it being more—well, authoritative, she supposed, but she was adaptable.

Erinis shot a surprisingly sharp glare at Aturia and went back to studying the map. The paper was unrolled over her crossed legs, somewhat protected from the morning dew on the grass. Her finger traced the path that they were following. Little notes in Aturia’s neat handwriting worked their way across the land that the three travelers were crossing; most prominently, a border marker, and a label on that section of the map—’Dyria’.

“Trail’s there.” Caelux gestured to where Erinis had traced her fingers. “Dunno where they’d go from there, though.”

“The pattern makes no sense,” Aturia agreed. She seemed to have calmed down considerably, though the same couldn’t be said for Erinis. She knelt and placed an almost reverent hand on the grass. “They’ve been here, though. The plants have seen aecanta.”

“First time in years, huh?” With that, the bite faded from Erinis’s words. She sounded almost melancholy.

Aturia cast an almost guilty glance at Erinis and Caelux before nodding. “Many years.”

Erinis laughed. Caelux could hear the effort that she put into making it sound carefree. It was still a bittersweet sound. “They probably missed it, poor bastards.” She let a hand fall back into the grass. “How awful has it been, huh? Here with the humans?”

“The grass is doing fine,” Aturia murmured, standing and moving away.

Caelux cast a worried glance at her retreating back. “You don’t need to be so mean to her, Aturia,” she said.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Erinis said, and it wasn’t until the conversation moved away from Aturia that her usual carefree tone returned. “Y’know, you make a nice blonde.”

Caelux hummed her agreement. “It’s not my favorite, but it’s a good color.”

Sebastian had been alright for an hour or two, before the hunger and the melancholy started to set in. Well. The melancholy had kicked in long before the hunger, but it was the combined effect that really started to get to him.

Robin held his hand for a while. Sebastian didn’t really mind the contact, but his mind protested rather valiantly. It twisted his heart a bit to know that Robin was still there, at his side. On the other hand, though, that same internal monologue that reminded him to kill before he was killed reminded him that it was a weakness, to rely on the comfort of others. That guilt gnawed at his conscious. It took up residence next to his despair at the fate of his mother and the stress that had set in without him noticing. The latter was starting to compound rather nastily.

They walked for hours, after their landing in the early afternoon. Sebastian was left with silence and time to think. His thoughts kept circling back to one thing—the fates of the others, and the events of that night.

Raymond was the first to come to mind. He hadn’t shown up to protect Sebastian or the queen, which meant one of two things. Either he was dead, or he was a traitor. Sebastian didn’t know which option hurt worse. He’d never completely trusted Raymond. Ceola had taught him better than that. However, the man had been with him for years, and had helped him through many a close scrape. He was a constant in Sebastian’s life. Was it worse to consider a betrayal or a death?

Either, it was just another piece of Sebastian’s existence ripped away from him.

The same applied to Marianna, except that Sebastian had no desire to see her alive. He closed his eyes against the sun as he considered it. Marianna meant nothing to him. He hoped that she was dead, really and truly, because if she was alive, she had allowed his mother to die. If she was alive, if she was a traitor, he would kill her, bloody and slow. After a few seconds, he decided that the same applied to Raymond. Connections be damned.

The set of his jaw as he made this decision was not purposeful. Neither was the tightening of his hand. He must have had some kind of determined expression on his face, however, because Robin looked startled when he glanced up at him.

And the others? How had they fared? Marin and Anna had made their allegiance to the crown clear, and Sebastian knew how power changed hands in his kingdom. He had heard of the things that new powers did to the friends of the old. Hell, his own family had done it, when they’d taken power. He could only hope that whoever had wrongfully taken charge would know better than to kill the healers.

That sparked an entirely new anger in him. It still felt subdued by his grief, but he could feel it, like glowing embers under a heavy blanket. “Bastards,” he muttered.

Robin looked up inquisitively. Sebastian could see the worry in his expression.

“They’re going to take my crown,” Sebastian spat, hand tightening around Robin’s again. “But they didn’t kill me.”

“But you can take it back when you return. Can’t you?”

“Yeah, well, they’ll still have it in the meantime.” The idea of someone having his power bothered Sebastian more than he would have thought. Not that he was hoping that they would do the job properly, but he wouldn’t be worrying much about it if he was dead.

“Do they have to prove that you’re dead?” Robin asked.

“They should.” Bitterness slipped into his tone. “The right way to do it is to show the bodies around. To prove it. They haven’t sent anyone after us, though, so I can only assume that they’re just going to do what they can with—” he gritted his teeth, tensing his jaw to keep his voice from faltering. “With one body. Maybe they’ll say that you and I drowned. Either way, if they kill anyone who opposes them, I doubt there’s going to be a whole lot of worry over whether they got the whole set.” He hated that. That the system was so irrevocably screwed. Even more than how much he hated his own investment in the proper transfer of power.

“Who do you think it was?” Robin spoke softly. Sebastian thought for a moment.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, the hand that didn’t hold Robin’s clenched into a fist. “Could be any number of people. I didn’t recognize any of the bastards.”

If he was being honest with himself, the damn unsurety bothered him most about this whole thing. He had no scapegoat, nobody to blame for what had happened.

That, and it rubbed him wrong that he hadn’t recognized anyone that night. Usually he could place one or two faces, when he saw lackeys of the noble families, but none of the faces had looked even vaguely familiar.

Sebastian had lived his entire life near the beach. The sound of the gulls and the waves and the smell of the sea were integral parts of his memories. He had always been able to look out over the horizon and see that endless, familiar blue. As he and Robin walked up the coast, they followed the shoreline, but he couldn’t help looking to the left. Opposite the ocean stood hills and then mountains, and Sebastian could imagine the miles and miles of land beyond that. Miles and miles of rocky land, filled with dry brush, away from the soft sand and the sparse grass of the beach. He had always known, theoretically, that the mainland was far bigger than his own kingdom. It seemed far more… fathomable, now, however, as he faced a land so large that one could walk to the center and forget the ocean altogether.

He felt exposed, out here, with only the hills and half-dead bushes to accompany him and Robin.

The sky had just started to turn a dusky shade of blue when they came across a small town. Sebastian did his best to hide his relieved exhale. Robin didn’t bother.

The town had no wall or any other defense of the sort, so they walked in easily. People still bustled around the paved streets in the twilight, and Sebastian and Robin received several strange looks. The fashion here was different, Sebastian realized, if slightly. His boots, nearly up to his knees, certainly weren’t in style.

He found the speech of the townspeople here to be similar to his own—more similar than it was to Robin’s faintly accented speech, anyway—but there were still subtle differences. It was strange. He couldn’t put a name to that feeling.

The main export of the town appeared to be fishing. There weren’t any stalls, or a marketplace, but they passed several enclosed stores that sold fish and related products. The whole city smelt of seawater.

Not many people crowded the streets, which left Sebastian and Robin just enough space to feel as if they could be watched.

“So. What do we need?” Sebastian asked, as they walked down the paved road. He kept his tone casual. The part of his mind that kept him alive, the analytical side, had taken control for the time being—calculating every movement, studying the uncanny world around him. He didn’t like this town. There were too many people that he didn’t know, too much terrain that he was unfamiliar with. Too many variables. It would be best to get what they needed and then leave.

“Food,” Robin offered. Both young men carried a keen awareness of their dwindling food supply. “And horses, probably. A map? We still don’t know where we’re going.”

It hadn’t been particularly difficult to identify the small coins that the people there used for currency. “So we’ll either need some of those, or we’ll have to steal what we need.”

“It’ll be stealing either way, though, won’t it?” Sebastian could hear the hesitance in Robin’s voice.

“Yeah, well, we don’t have much choice,” Sebastian told him, keeping his gaze straight up ahead. “It’s either steal, beg, or die. And I’m not going to beg.”

Robin turned toward him. “Would it really be so bad?”

Already unsettled by the new area, Sebastian leveled him with a disapproving look. Robin sighed unhappily, but looked away in resignation.

Out of nowhere, a man collided with Robin, sending him scrambling. Sebastian already had his hands to his knives and a shout on his tongue by the time he realized that it hadn’t been a hostile action.

“Watch it,” the man growled at Robin, who looked startled. Sebastian narrowed his eyes. Robin quickly apologized and ducked away, taking Sebasian’s hand and pulling him farther down the street.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked, turning to look Robin over. He wasn’t sure why he had done that—he couldn’t really have sustained any real injuries just by bumping into someone. He surprised himself with his own concern.

That was wrong, the little voice reminded him. He shouldn’t be so worried about others, Robin had only been bumped—

“Here,” Robin said, pushing a bag into Sebastian’s hands. The shakenness in his expression had been replaced by guilt. “Let’s get a horse, and then let’s leave.” With that, he turned his gaze straight ahead and kept walking.

The bag had coins in it. It obviously hadn’t belonged to Robin. Sebastian knew better than to look back at the man who Robin had ‘bumped into’, so he casually stowed the bag in his pack and walked after his companion. Robin looked a little sick. Sebastian kept quiet about it for the moment, mostly to avoid attracting the attention of any passerby.

They managed to find a stable, small as the town was. There was some spark of recognition in Robin’s eyes when he looked at the coins they’d acquired, but he couldn’t say their value for sure. Either way, when the man in the stable told them the price of a steed, they had enough to buy a horse, though it severely depleted their funds.

Sebastian wasn’t happy with the purchase. Sure, it was over, and he was gratified to be able to leave the town, but still. “It was a waste of money,” he whisper-argued as they led the animal out of the stable. “We could’ve just stolen it.”

“With him right there? We would have been caught, Sebastian.” Robin’s tone was more plaintive than argumentative.

“And?” Sebastian’s tone carried no such gentleness. “He couldn’t have stopped us. One good wound, and we could’ve walked away with two horses and all of our money. Could’ve walked away with all of his money, for that matter.”

“Sebastian!” Robin turned to face him, concern and something like shock flooding his expression. “You can’t just—”

“Why not?”

Robin let out an exasperated breath, brow knitted as he searched for the words. “I—basic concern for others, for one.”

“Why should I be concerned about him?” Sebastian asked, quickly growing irritable. The stress of the situation, of being in the unknown was getting to him, even if he’d never admit it. “All he’s doing is stopping me from getting what I need.”

“He’s trying to make a living, Sebastian. He’s just doing what he has to to survive. Like you.”

Sebastian turned away, silently fuming.

He didn’t speak again until they had reached the city gates. They’d managed to acquire an apple each before leaving the town, and he was somewhat relieved to see that at least some of the food was familiar. It was dark by then, but neither of them liked the idea of sleeping in town. Between their limited funds and the fact that they’d stolen from someone who presumably lived there, it was an unnecessary risk.

There was a road leading out of the town, dusty and worn in by wagon wheels and hooves. Sebastian supposed that it would be best to find bigger centers of civilization, where they would find more materials and information. He glanced over his shoulder. The faint blue of the ocean on the horizon got smaller with every step that he took. He felt as if he were leaving another thing behind.

“You can ride a horse, correct?” Robin broke the silence with a tentative question. He held the reins of the horse, and walked between Sebastian and the animal.

Sebastian frowned. “No.”

Robin didn’t bother trying to hide the surprise on his face. “Really? But you’re royalty.”

“‘Course I am,” Sebastian said, tone suddenly defensive. “And what’s the point of learning to ride a horse, out in the open? The only people who use horses are the ones who have to go between towns.” And, apparently, people on the continent, which was so big that walking seemed inefficient. “Can you?” He’d assumed, since Robin had been the one to suggest horses in the first place.

“Yes,” Robin said, running a hand along the horse’s nose. “I’m pretty sure, anyway, but—” he frowned for a moment, concentrating. “Yes, I think so.” He offered Sebastian a half-hearted smile. “There’s some fuzzy recollection, at least.”

“Maybe you were a thief,” Sebastian mused. “Before you washed up on the isle. Riding horses and picking pockets.” He arched a questioning eyebrow at his companion. Robin looked down, guiltily, and the sunburn on his cheeks looked almost like a blush.

“I hope not.” His tone was soft and sincere, almost fearful. “I’m not really sure why I know how to do that, you know. I must’ve done it before, but…” he went quiet, and Sebastian felt a sudden pang of guilt of his own for bringing the topic up.

That’s not your problem, the little voice of his conscience reminded him. His memory’s not your fault. If he doesn’t know how to deal with it, why should it be your concern?

Sebastian shook it off, though not without the feeling of self-reproach for being soft that was becoming so familiar.

He still wasn’t sure how to offer support, or comfort, or whatever was required in these situations. He’d ended up crying last time, he bitterly reminded himself. That was an especially undesirable outcome. With a quick exhale, he gingerly reached over to take Robin’s hand. The young man looked up at the contact, and the surprise in his expression soon melted into a smile that melted something in Sebastian.

Out in the dark, under the stars, they found a tree to tie their horse to, and settled down for the night. Sebastian ate his apple and felt somewhat better with food in his stomach, even if it had only been an apple.

“So. What’s next?” Robin asked, carefully.

“We figure out this continent,” Sebastian answered, sounding more confident than he felt. He’d had plenty of time as they walked to think over their plan, and though he’d gotten it down to a few basic points, he was still unsure of how to go about executing it. “I gather support. We get back to Mendacium and take back my kingdom.” He glanced over at Robin. The young man had that earnest expression that he always had when he was listening; intent, ready to help. A sudden addendum occurred to him. “And in the meantime, we find wherever you came from, and figure out your past.”

Robin obviously hadn’t expected that. His breath caught in his throat, and he looked so damn touched that Sebastian didn’t really know what to do with himself. “Thank you, Sebastian,” he said, open and honest and unashamedly emotional, and Sebastian could see the stars reflected in the blue of his eyes.

He turned away, doing his best to ignore the flurry of internal voices that the moment brought on. “Yeah, well,” he said, voice gruffer than it probably needed to be, “Can’t have you just follow me everywhere if you’re not going to get anything out of it.”

A different little voice reminded him that if it were anyone else, he wouldn’t care. That Robin meant something different to him. He told the voice to shut up.

When they woke in the morning, Sebastian wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Once they’d prepared to travel, Robin swung himself up onto the brown mare that they’d purchased the previous day. It wasn’t quite with practiced ease, but he obviously knew what he was doing.

He looked a little proud of himself when he held out a hand, grinning down at Sebastian. “Well, your highness? Shall we be off?”

The ornate decorations on the walls of the palace reminded Finn of home. The royalty of Oblitus seemed to have an affinity for reds and golds, between the carpets and the curtains and the detailing on the walls. Acies had a lot of similar color schemes; in the city, at least. Finn had never been inside the palace of his home kingdom.

The art on the walls was very similar, as well, but Finn knew that most of the art was actually from Acies. Art was the pride of their kingdom.

Traveling with a royal messenger had a lot of perks. The visits to royal palaces were Finn’s favorite. Not every family would allow their whole group inside, but the ones that did offered Finn a glimpse into decadence that he thoroughly enjoyed. He wondered, sometimes, if he’d be let into places like that once he struck out on his own as a real musician.

He and Kay weren’t let into the throne room. Mostly because they were technically civilians and had no business being in the same room as royalty, but Finn knew that Kay made people uncomfortable. Hired swords didn’t have a great reputation in any of the kingdoms. As so, they waited out in the hallway, watched by guards. Finn didn’t really mind it. He and Kay spent a lot of time like that, waiting for Larkin in opulent hallways and on castle steps.

When Larking finally emerged from the throne room, she looked a little pale. Finn resolved to ask her about it later. She always kept quiet about the messages that she delivered—she was a good messenger, after all—but he kept hope that he might be able to get something out of her. He was naturally curious.

The guards escorted them out of the palace, and then the group got on their horses and set off again. Finn knew that Larkin found it frustratingly pointless, to get somewhere just to turn around again, but he didn’t really mind it. He figured he’d be doing a lot of that once he went off on his own, anyway.

The ride from the city center to the city gate didn’t take long, and then they were back on the road. “So, Larkin,” he started, pulling his horse up next to hers. “What was the message this time?”

Larkin looked at him disapprovingly. “Finn. You know that I can’t tell you.” Her accent was a familiar sound, smooth and lilting.

Finn laughed, smiling his very sweetest smile. “Come on, who would I tell?”

“Forgive me, but execution for treason does not sound very appetizing right now.”

“Appetizing?” Finn scrunched his nose up. “I don’t think that’s the right word.” Larkin didn’t respond; she just smiled affectionately at him and turned back to the road.

Finn sighed in disappointment, but didn’t push any further. Instead, he slowed his horse until he was in line with Kay. “And you?” He flashed his friend a brilliant grin. “Any intriguing secrets for a friend?”

Kay raised an eyebrow, but moved to speak. Finn brightened immediately. “I’ll tell you a secret later, if you’ll stop bothering Larkin.”

Finn pulled a face at him, but grinned nevertheless. “Thanks, Kay.” It was a little victory that Kay had spoken in the first place, to be honest. He couldn’t have been all that old—maybe mid-twenties—but he carried a lot of weight with him. Finn liked to think that he was rather good at reading people, and he could tell, at least, that Kay had something bad in his past. It was another victory to have Kay volunteer a secret. Finn sincerely hoped that he would learn something about where his friend came from. All he really knew about his past was that he came from Socius, which wasn’t all that surprising. Most mercenaries were from Socius.

A figure on the side of the road caught his eye. The scenery had changed from the light stone of the city to the greenery of the forest. A young woman stared up at him from the edge of the road, silent. Her eyes were a blank, lifeless shade of gray. Finn offered her a quick smile, hiding the motion from his traveling companions by pretending to look at the trees.

He pulled out his instrument a few moments later, humming some senseless tune as he strummed to pass the time. He glanced back at the young woman, once they’d gone a ways away. She stood in the same place, still watching them. Finn smiled again, deciding that a wave would be too strange as she faded into the distance.

alrighty, hos! we're back at it again!

it took me a heck of a long time to get this up, and i sincerely apologize. the problem is that i'm, like, really really lazy, and it makes me awful at updating.

in other news, this chapter is about 3900 words long, so that's a lot more than expected. hopefully the extra 900 words than usual make up for the wait somewhat? again, my apologies. you can thank @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars for the update, since she was the one to motivate me to actually finish the chapter. she's also the one who made this gorgeous cover, so yeet! thanks again, leah!

anyway! your question for this chapter: what do you think about finn? you know, like, next to nothing right now, but i'd like your current impressions so that i know if i'm writing him correctly.

thank you for your patience! i'll see you in the next update! (which will hopefully be soon)

as always, resources like my writing playlist and the world map have links in my tables of contents! and right here, since convenience is everything.

Nyctophobia Playlist (Spotify)

world map

~ love from rai ~

TAGS: @virgils-jacket , @nemothesurvivor , @deathshadowrules , @yayroos , @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars , @rainykingdoms

#nyctophobia #chapter seven #chapter 7 #original writing #novel #work in progress

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humanitysbridge · 4 years

Text

(not) another lonely christm.as

@pnkfox : uhhh surprise?

He doesn’t want to go into the school. For one, as good as his tech is, he doubts he can make himself look slimmer, shorter, older, and put on a good impersonation. He’s not an actor, he’s a tired vigilante. Instead, he rolls up in the empty bus lane in front of the building and readjusts his thick coat. It’ll shroud his size, even if just a bit. He can’t go into the school. The smell of lockers and the mocking athletic trophy case will spiral him into a bitter, unapproachable mood.

Victor adjusts his hat in the rearview mirror as he waits for the front doors to open. The reflection that stares back is not his. The skin is smooth and a rich brown, no metal meets flesh along his jaw or at his eye. Grey peppers his eyebrows and the back of his head. The longer he stares, the more he thinks of Silas. He hasn’t seen him in nearly a year...He’ll have to make a trip back home soon. It’s only appropriate. The thought makes him feel on edge. Victor imagines the pokes and prods that his father will insist on. His tech learns every second which makes him an invaluable research project. Maybe he’ll ask Kori to come along with him. No, no, no, she’ll be busy. Maybe Gar--

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A gloved finger knocks on his tinted window. Damn. He didn’t even hear them approach. There are two heartbeats outside the vehicle. One is beating off the charts, and he doesn’t need his sensors to know who’s more nervous. He sighs and rolls down the window, stopping at the shoulder so the woman has to crouch down to look at him.

“Mr. Fox--thank you for coming at such short notice.” The principal says, breathless. Is she concerned with pissing off a guy like Lucius? Hell. Victor would be, too, if he was in her position. “We simply can’t condone this behavior, she’s not to come back till after break.”

Victor’s expression pinches, he glances over the woman’s shoulder to check over Tiff. Her anger is quiet and seething. This wasn’t fair, then. She usually owns up to her mistakes.

“And will this be on her record?”

“Of course--we have to document this--” Her cheeks redden.

“I don’t think that would benefit your school very well.” He hopes it’s the sort of threat Fox would make. “To ruin my daughter’s record for something as trivial as this. What did she do?”

Arms crossed, defiant. “She was backtalking a teacher!”

“--A wrong teacher.” Tiff pipes up for the first time, locking eyes with Victor.

“Do you see what I mean?” The woman sighs heavily, expecting Lucius Fox to agree with her. Victor doubts he would if he were here. He hopes he wouldn’t, anyway.

“Well, was she?”

“Was she what?”

“Was she wrong?” He inquires, looking at her over the rim of his glasses.

Tiff snickers as the principal stumbles over her pitiful response.

___

“That was awesome.”

“You’re lucky I was in the area.” He sighs, then shoots her a crooked smile. “They’re hard on us. You know that. They’re gonna expect you to act like you’re grown.”

She huffs, looking out the window. “But I’m not.”

“I know. That’s why I bailed you out.” Pulling into the driveway of the beautiful manor, he shuts off his car. “And,” He draws out, “You were probably in the right. They’re not equipped to handle big brains like you.”

“Like us.”

The mechanism that he pretends is his heart simulates warmth. “Yeah, like us. Black geniuses are too much to handle in school.”

“S’dumb.”

He laughs, loud and genuine as he steps out of the car. “Alright, kid, then how about I show you how to stop that stun-whatever from shocking you twenty-nine percent of the time?”

A gasp. “How did you--”

“You mentioned it last time. I’m not spying.”

Then, softer, as though she’s surprised. “Oh...Okay, yeah. Let’s do it!”

”--After we clean.”

“But--”

“I’m already connected to the speakers. We’re cleaning.”

The house, it turns out, is dreadfully free of any holiday ornaments. Vic had expected this, but he hoped to be wrong. He grew up in a home with too-busy parents who decorated on rare occasions and often sparsely. There weren’t many traditions surrounding the holidays except for a dinner and a few gifts exchanged. It hits him hard to see the bland (but expensive, never forget that it’s expensive) decoration. Laundry is folded and put away, the floors are cleaned, and the mountain of dishes and takeout containers are taken care of; his music is so loud they have to shout to talk to each other, so they settle for singing. They work on her latest gadget. Vic attempts to pretend he’s not radiating with joy when she figures out how to stop a wire from tripping. When it’s late, and she has to get ready for patrolling, he decides to tag along. He might as well--two heroes are better than one most of the time.

Besides. It feels wrong to leave her on her own.

“This tree is stupid big.” Her small voice quips, staring up at the tree that towers Victor. “Like, it ain’t gotta reason to be this big.”

He nods, understanding. “Biggest tree I could find. Chopped it down myself.”

“Illegally?” Youthful brown eyes sparkle with interest.

He snorts, shakes his head. “Not sorry to disappoint, but I obtained this tree while obeying the law.”

She shrugs, leaning in close to smell the leaves. “Mmm.”

Victor beams. “Right? I figured if we’re doin’ this, we’re doin’ it right.”

“Seriously?” It hurts him, how unsure she is. He feels a rush of spite toward her parents, his parents for raising children like this. Accustomed to loneliness. Uncertain when attention is directed toward them. “You wanna trim a tree?”

“I’m gonna trim a tree. This tree. And if you’d be so kind as to help me, that’d be pretty fly.”

“Saying fly is so crunchy--”

“If you don’t grab those lights and appreciate how hip I am. You wanna start with Stevie or Luther?”

“Are those the only options?”

“Chile, I have a carefully cultivated playlist that categorically bangs. It statistically slaps. You want some Temptations? Eartha? Whitney?!” his volume increases with each artist. “I got Chuck, I got the Five, I got--”

“Okay, okay! Stevie.”

He lets out an exasperated, overdramatic noise of relief. The music kicks on, not nearly as loud as when they were getting the house in order.

“Hey, Vic?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Thanks.”

“Black geniuses. We gotta stick together.”

#;;writing // drabble #uhhhh so listen as my first decree to bring vic back it was this? drabble?#i'm listening to my music and just had to get this out it is 6am i have read through it three times #so hopefully no super bad spelling errors and stuff #i cant wait to post this bc im honestly hype i got stuff written relating to this blog and i think about vic and tiff a lot #and yes this title is based off of the artist formally known as pr.ince #i skimmed your blog to try and see if you didnt want holiday stuff but didnt see anything #sorry if it not your thing just lemme knooooooo #pnkfox #im gonna be so sick if this isnt as cute as my sleep deprived ass thinks lmao

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captainsbabysitter-blog · 7 years

Text

Baby Makes Three

Pairing: Benkaru

Rating: Everyone

Length: 2257

Summary: Sequel to On A Whim! We left off with Hikaru showing up on Ben’s doorstep. And here’s the next part: Hikaru Sulu getting wrapped around the tiny fingers of an infant he never even imagined would be part of his life.

~*~*~*~

Hikaru apparently showed up at just the right moment. About half way through the next day, he got a frantic call from Ben asking if anything else was put together because he was on his way to the hospital. Luckily for Ben, Sulu was world class at putting together furniture with an Allen wrench and had gotten it all done in a few hours.

“Yeah, babe, it’s all ready. I’ll meet you at the hospital if you want?”

Just a beat of hesitance before he nodded. “Please?”

When he arrived, he suddenly realized he had no clue who to ask for. He didn’t know the mother’s name and Ben’s name probably wasn’t going to be on anything. The woman behind the reception desk took pity on him and finally asked, “Sir? Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, um… My boyfriend he here because his surrogate is in labor.”

“Do you know the surrogate’s name?” When he shook his head, she continued, “Alright, then. He’ll be on a list of approved visitors. What’s his name?”

Once Ben was looked up and the right room was found, she had to remind him that he couldn’t go to the room but could wait in the maternity waiting area. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t really do anything about it so he spent the next few hours pacing with the family members waiting for other babies to come into the world. Every time someone walked through those double doors, everyone perked up like meerkats in hopes that it would be news on their own loved one.

Hours ticked by, and the room slowly emptied until Hikaru was the last one waiting. Ben found him sprawled over one of the tiny couches, fast asleep with several empty cups that must have once held coffee littering the small table beside him. He startled awake, but offered up a sleepy smile when Ben ran his fingers through his hair.

“Hey… Everything turn out okay?”

“Yes. Would you like to see her?” Even now, Ben looked nervous. It was like he expected that moment to be the one where Hikaru went running toward the hills.

Instead, he was treated to a bright grin, “Hell yeah let’s go!”

Ben chuckled, but took his hand as he led his boyfriend through the halls to the lines of infants. Toward the middle was the tiny bundle of human they’d be bringing home with them. She was fast asleep, a tiny black curl poking out of the blanket swaddling her snugly.

There was nothing but pure, unbridled awe plastered to Sulu’s face as he watched her slumber away. “She’s so small…”

“Most babies tend to be.” Just a hint of sarcasm tinted the fondness in Ben’s voice, but it flew right over Hikaru’s head. “They want to keep her for another hour for observation then we can take her home.”

“Wow so this is really happening.” His voice was barely above a whisper and his eyes never left her. “You’re a dad. It feels like just yesterday I was making filthy plans for this trip.”

“You can still back out,” Ben countered, the way he held his body screamed apprehension as he continually shifted his gaze between his new daughter and his boyfriend.

That was what it took to finally pull Hikaru’s attention back to him. His brow furrowed in irritation as he shook his head, “That’s not happening. I still say we should get married.”

Just a bit over an hour later, they both got back to Ben’s place with Demora in tow still sleeping soundly and now cradled against Ben’s chest. Hikaru smiled softly at the sight and moved to the nursery to get anything else ready that needs doing. He hadn’t had a chance to put up those baby bumper things or get the blanket tucked under the mattress, so he rushed around to get that done under the watchful eye of daddy Ben.

“You really got all of this put together?” He sounded impressed as he looked around. “Hikaru… Thank you. Really. I never would have gotten this done before she was born without your help.”

While he rearranged things, Hikaru just shrugged a bit. In his mind there was no other option. He wanted Ben, Ben had Demora now, so Hikaru would make room for her too. Ben being a responsible adult wasn’t about to scare him away when he was a few years away from a career that could take away any opportunity for him to find something long term.

“I didn’t really do anything special.”

“You realize how foolish you sound just saying that, don’t you? I couldn’t find another man in a million willing to do what you’ve done.”

“Then you should marry me,” he quipped back as he stepped away from the crib.

“Hikaru…”

“I’m being serious, Ben,” Sulu continued, watching Ben lay Demora out with a soft smile. “I love you, I’m not going anywhere, and I have a feeling I’m another day or two from being wrapped around her little finger. If I was going to leave, I wouldn’t have come here.”

Ben’s gaze stayed on the crib for just another moment before it trailed over to Hikaru. He seemed to be trying to decide on something. Just when he seemed as though he might say something, Demora started fussing. He scooped her up instantly and shushed her as he made his way to the kitchen for a bottle. Whatever he was going to say took a back burner to that for a while.

No matter how impatient he was, Hikaru had his limits but he tried to give Ben whatever time he needed. It finally slammed into him just how much Ben “I can’t decide on breakfast without planning it a week in advance” Jung’s life has been flipped on its head in such a short period of time. As that knowledge sank in, guilt over how annoying he’s been about the getting married thing followed. Shit. He leaned against the doorframe and just watched the two of them for a few minutes, really taking in the sight. Fatherhood suited Ben.

Was he?

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Ben teased. “What about?”

Words were weighed carefully before he responded, “Just… Realizing I’ve been an ass. Sorry. I should have thought about how stressed you must be right now.”

“For the record, you being here helped more than you know. I hadn’t planned on her coming early and would have come home to boxed furniture with a newborn who probably has less patience than you.”

“Make sure you add that to the ‘Should I Marry Hikaru?’ list you have going.”

Thankfully, he seemed to know Sulu was joking and quirked a bit of a smile. “It’s already on there.”

“One day you’ll have to show me that list. Maybe if we ever do get married.”

“You’re settling for if now? Did you suddenly become a wise old sage between the nursery and the kitchen?” The banter brought the bright smile back to Ben’s lips and Hikaru would keep it there no matter what.

“I think I’m going to just take this trip to spend some time with you and get to know the sprout. You were right about not running in this time.”

“I’m right about it all the time,” he parried and started burping Demora gently.

“Well if I didn’t run in, I wouldn’t have been in Yorktown or I wouldn’t have asked you out. I’d say running in has worked out pretty well for me so far.”

“Mm… I suppose.”

Baby fed, burped, and cleaned up, Ben changed her and got her ready for bed. The late hour was started to drag on them a little (really, couldn’t she have picked a better time than 3am to finally come out?) and all Hikaru wanted was to curl up in an actual bed next to Ben.

A pipedream, he would realize later. The whole next week was spent going from nap time to shrieking wails to trying to get the last touches done in the nursery. Sulu also learned another very important thing during that week: he didn’t know a damn thing about newborns. He let Ben walk him through changing diapers and feedings and he was almost constantly terrified that he would do something terribly wrong.

Between getting next to no sleep, the sparse holiday celebrations where Ben’s family was in and out of the house, and just trying to find time to spend with each other, Hikaru was surprised he didn’t fall asleep standing up on his way to the shuttle when it was time to go. Even with all the mess, he found his chest aching at the thought of leaving them behind.

Demora looked less like a wrinkly red bundle of rage when she and Ben waited with him during those last few minutes before he had to board. Sulu stroked her cheek with a finger and gave Ben a soft kiss.

“You take care of both of you and I’ll be back in spring,” he murmured against Ben’s lips. A quick kiss was brushed against the top of Demora’s head as he added, “And you be nice to him, sprout. I know he’s not as fun, but he tries.”

He laughed at the disgruntled sound Ben made and soothed it with a few more chaste kisses. Last call pulled him reluctantly away from the pair, but he sent several glances over his shoulder at them as he boarded. Spring couldn’t come quickly enough.

~*~*~*~

The com messages and video calls only increased. Hikaru looked forward to hearing about every detail regarding Demora’s development and the videos he got of every little milestone never failed to make even the worst day brighter. All of their video chats started out with Demora in Ben’s lap so he could talk to them both.

Coming up on her third month, Sulu was waiting for Ben to answer his call. His face broke into a wide grin when the image of Demora reaching for the camera filled his screen.

“Hey there, spout!”

She blinked at him for just a moment before her own face broke into a pleased smile. Her giggle and the sigh of her reaching out to touch his face on the screen melted his heart. Ben watched the exchange with adoring eyes.

“She recognizes you,” he explained, smile spreading when Hikaru cooed at the thought. “I have a picture of you in the nursery.”

“And she’s just so smart she recognized me right away!” Hikaru leaned in closer to the camera. “She’s going to be the smartest kid in Yorktown. I can tell.”

The conversation continued on until Demora was fast asleep against Ben’s chest. Ben excused himself for a minute so he could put her down and come back for the more adult portion of their talk. Not having Hikaru at hand to help with Demora was hard, but not being able to touch or taste him while they were intimate was almost worse. He’d need to get used to it if Hikaru was going to be stationed on a starship.

When they were both laid out in their respective beds, sated and somewhat sleepy, Ben traced his fingers over Hikaru’s face much like his daughter had not long before. Hikaru sent him a quick kiss face and a tired smile.

“So you said it’s another two months before I see you again, right?”

“Mm… Yeah unfortunately,” he sighed and rolled onto his stomach so he could prop his PADD against the wall of his bunk. “Two more months and then I’m yours for… I think it’s another two months? Three? I’ll have to check. Why?”

“I just miss you.”

“I miss you both,” he admitted with a yawn. They were in the middle of a round of testing, and he was spending almost every spare moment studying for them.

“Get some sleep. I love you.”

“Mmhm. Love you, too.”

By the time Hikaru was once again standing in Yorktown, Demora was at the babbling stage. He couldn’t help but take her from Ben and snuggle in close when they came to welcome him back. They spent a mostly quiet evening in, Hikaru taking over entertaining the baby while Ben took care of the dishes. By the time he walked back into the living room, Ben found Hikaru sprawled across the couch, both out like a light with Demora laid out on his chest.

He took a picture before carefully waking his boyfriend, “Hikaru… We should get her into bed. You look like you could use some rest as well.”

When they were both settled into bed themselves, Hikaru rolled to pillow his head on Ben’s chest with a content sigh. “And here I used to think I’d never feel domestic.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually…” As Ben leaned over to retrieve something from the bedside table, Hikaru watched on curiously. “I’ve been thinking about this more and more often lately. Every time I think about it, I find fewer reasons to keep saying no.”

Hikaru stared at him, surprise etched in every feature. He motioned for Ben to continue.

“I don’t believe I ever thought I’d do this so quickly before, but… Hikaru Sulu, will you marry me?”

He didn’t even bother with an answer. All he thought to do was pull Ben in for a deep, passionate kiss as his boyfriend- fiancé now- slipped a simple gold band onto his finger.

Tagging: @pinkamour1588 @auduna-druitt @yourtropegirl @thevalesofanduin @mccoymostly @thinkwritexpress-official @southernbellestatues @emmkolenn @randomlittleimp @gracieminabox @goingknowherewastaken

#benkaru #ben sulu #hikaru sulu #aos #star trek #tia writes

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technicolorheart9801 · 8 years

Text

All It Does Is Take: Chapter 3

Ritsu had been oddly subdued thus far, gazing at the complicated transmutation circle with a furrowed brow.

“Do you see something wrong with it?” Mob asked. “I’ve triple checked all of my calculations, but I could have missed something.”

Ritsu stayed silent for a moment, seeming to hesitate, before saying, “N-no. I was… just wondering about her soul. What do we have to offer that could possibly be equivalent?”

To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. And on that day, they lost more than their fair share. Now the Kageyama Brothers are on a mission. A mission that might cost them everything they have left.

Here's the next chapter, and guess what time it is! Reigen Time! He was really fun to write, but feel free to tell me if you feel I got something wrong. Up next is back to Mob POV, so be ready for suffering!

Lieutenant Colonel Reigen Arataka leveled a horrified stare at the sight in front of him. A transmutation circle of the likes that he had only ever seen in books. A human transmutation circle. And there was blood in the middle of it. The Kageyama brothers had attempted human transmutation, a taboo. Reigen was almost blinded by the all-consuming anger that had suddenly devoured him, which was a bit of a surprise, because rage wasn’t usually such a prominent resident in his personality. Reigen preferred emotions that were healthy motivators. Like determination. And all-consuming panic.

Also surprising, it appeared that the pair of brothers had lived, judging by the blood trail leading up the stairs and out the front door, and it was all Reigen could do to follow it without… without… punching a tree or something, just to let his rage out somehow. But in this backwater little town, there was only grass and livestock for miles around, any trees cleared away for farming space. So if he had to assault anything, it would have to be a cow or a farmer, neither of which were preferable options. Reigen liked his face as it was, thank you very much.

The Lieutenant Colonel came back to himself with a start as he realized that he had stopped walking and was currently glaring at the cows chewing grass over on the next hill. No, bad idea, just keep walking, look like you belong here, find the Kageyama's, get answers. That’s what you’re here to do. He cleared his head with a truly cinematic head shake - just in case anyone was around to see - and pointedly continued down the path he had been on earlier as if he had never stopped.

The relatively sparse blood trail led to quaint yellow house with a sign out front that advertised that the place was an automail outfitter. Knocking, Reigen simmered on the porch, a foot tapping impatiently and fingers drumming an irregular beat on the doorframe he was currently leaning against. He couldn’t even- human transmutation was forbidden for a reason, damn it! Now it seemed that the Kageyama’s had paid the price for ignoring the big, blaring, TABOO THIS IS FORBIDDEN DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME warning on that particular brand of alchemy, though he didn’t know exactly what they had given up yet. The door was unlocked and the knob turned slightly, so Reigen shoved the it open the rest of the way. He knew that forcing himself into someone else’s home was rude at best and illegal at worst, but he needed answers, and he saw them sitting in a chair in front of a huge suit of armor.

Reigen probably should have been more curious about that little anomaly, but he had a bit of a one track mind at the best of times. So when he was emotional, like he was now, that single track sort of expands to fill up his whole mindspace until he could only focus on one thing. Which just so happened to be the boy in the chair.

Without conscience thought, Reigen grabbed the front of the kid’s shirt, lifting him to eye level. “I went your house. I saw the floor. What was that? What did you do?!”

~0%~

The black-haired boy just leveled his empty gaze ahead, looking right through Reigen and focusing on something the Lieutenant Colonel couldn’t see. The suit of armor behind the wheelchair started shaking, rattling in a startlingly hollow way, and Reigen dropped the front of the kid’s shirt like it had burned him.

“Wait a second, are you…?” Reigen took a step back, finally forcing himself to look at the Kageyama brothers without a haze of anger blinding him. The boy in the chair - no, a wheelchair he now realized - was missing an arm and leg, and Reigen first punched himself mentally for manhandling an injured kid, then put together the fact that this little kid, no more than 12 years old, had attempted human transmutation, and survived. And he must have also been the older brother, Shigeo, because the reports that he read about the elder Kageyama stated that the boy’s most prominent feature was the same bowl-shaped haircut the kid in the wheelchair was currently sporting.

Going on that line of thinking, Reigen realized that the suit of armor - still shaking with repressed emotion - was a kid, too. It must be the other Kageyama brother, Ritsu. Reigen wondered what the poor kid had given up that had made him ashamed enough to wear armor to cover it.

But… the reports also said that Ritsu Kageyama was only about four feet six inches. This armored figure was easily around 7 feet tall, with broad shoulders and a metal helmet that was around the size of one of those overgrown pumpkins Reigen had saw on his angry little stride through the countryside. A metal helmet with bright red glowing eyelights that had way too much emotion in them to just be a last-minute design addition to the armor.

Reigen imagined that his face while looking at Ritsu was much like the one he had worn while gazing at the transmutation circle in the Kageyama basement. Horrified, shocked, and just piecing together that a forbidden form of alchemy that he had only ever read in books had just been done in real life.

Ritsu was in the armor, in a sense. Just not his body. So, not only was the elder Kageyama skilled enough in alchemy to attempt human transmutation, he was also advanced enough to bond a soul to a suit of armor.

And all pieces of the puzzle came together when he remembered that those helpful reports had also mentioned that the Kageyamas had been orphaned at a young age. Reigen was thunderstruck with the realization that these were just children, left alone to their devices without an adult figure looking after them, and with such a powerful - and destructive - force such as alchemy at their fingertips, of course they had gotten into trouble.

And now, they were all alone, with a problem that they didn’t know how to fix and no adult guidance there to help them solve it. Reigen couldn’t, in good conscience, let this continue. These boys needed a way to get their bodies back and they needed an adult that they rely on. And Reigen could give them both.

“Ohhhh… this is a… surprise to say the least.” Reigen had remained standing, neglecting sitting at the table in favor of being able to pace and gesture when needed, because he had a lot of energy to let out in the aftermath of his abruptly ended temper tantrum. He wandered over to the window, looking out at the pastures.

“Don’t worry, it’s a good”-good, sad, terrifying, horrible, what may have you-”surprise. I came to check out a report that said there was a brilliant alchemist living in this town.” The word ‘brilliant’ would have been accompanied by a grand gesture towards Shigeo in his wheelchair, if Reigen was brave enough to look at him. As it was, he just sort of waved his hands towards thin air, still facing the window, because that was more bearable than seeing the nothingness in those eyes again.

“And let me tell you, the last thing I expected to find was a boy skilled enough to attempt human transmutation and live to tell the tale.” Reigen had finally turned away from the glass. The Kageyama’s gave no response to the flattery, only silence left in the wake of the Lieutenant Colonel's sentence. But Reigen was used to carrying a conversation, so he covered the slightly unnerving quietness with an overdramatic twirl into the seat he had neglected at the beginning of the talk, because when he proposed what he had in mind, he would look them in the eyes. Or eyeholes. He covered the lower part of his face with folded hands and gave the boys in front of him a serious look.

“I'd say you’re more than qualified to become a State Alchemist,” Reigen swung his own military issued pocketwatch out of his coat in a flash and dangled it from its chain. The silver sparkled in the sunlight of the window he had been contemplating at earlier. “If you decide to accept this position, you would be required to serve the military in time of national emergency. But, in return, you’ll receive privileges and access to otherwise restricted research materials. Given time, it is entirely possible that you will find a way to get your bodies back. Or even more.”

The big little brother, Ritsu, suddenly slammed a giant metal hand on the table. “I can’t believe this. Don’t you get it? Alchemy did this to my brother and I, alchemy created that-that thing in our basement, alchemy nearly killed us. And you want us to throw ourselves back into it? You want us to see hell again?”

The lieutenant colonel was startled by the sudden display of emotion and the incredibly childlike voice coming from such a hulking figure, but he kept his face carefully blank. He supposed that with all the shaking and the weird impression he got that a suit of armor was glaring at him - even without an actual face, Reigen wondered what his secret was - an outburst was inevitable. Reigen looked into Ritsu’s burning red eyeholes, then looked into Mob’s dull, lifeless ones. They needed this, Reigen knew, but it was still their choice.

“I’m not going to force you, I'm merely offering you the possibility. The possibility of change, to better yourself and help other people, including each other. But the only way to do this is to stand up and seize the chance the military can give you,” Reigen stood and faced them once again and adopted what he hoped was an inspiring pose. “Keep moving forward, seek out the answers you need. Become a better person and keep your eyes on your goal, whatever it takes.”

By the end of his visit, as Reigen was sauntering his way down the path back to the train station, he knew that he would be seeing the Kageyama brothers again. Because when he looked Mob in the eyes on his way out, they were still dull, sure, but they weren’t lifeless. Not anymore. There was a sense of purpose in those eyes.

~25%~

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #fma au #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemsit brotherhood #fma #fma:b #ritsu kageyama #shigeo kageyama #reigen arataka #crossover #fanfiction #cass' post #my writing

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