#and the less said about blizzard the better

[uvobreakmylegs]

Imminent

part 2 of the werewolf Nobunaga fic! also in case it wasn't clear in the first part the time period is meant to resemble the mid 1800s

werewolf!Nobunaga x female!reader

Part 1

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, noncon, brief mention of teratophilia, reader is extremely passive

Word Count: 15.3k

“Are you certain that man was shot?”

The voice that came up from behind had you pause, slowly bringing down the ax that you had been using to chop up the larger pieces of firewood. Doctor Mayhew had just exited your cabin, and he approached you with an odd look on his face.

It took you a moment to answer his question, but you nodded soon after as you repeated what you had told him when you had met him in town.

“Nobunaga was bleeding from two different places. And the blood that came from his side wound is still all over his trousers,” you pointed out.

“I see.”

Mayhew stopped before you with a slight huff as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Well, while he certainly has a few injuries, they don't appear to be the life threatening ones that you told me they were,” said the doctor, “in fact, he's in better shape than most of the men I've seen this week.”

“…. Oh…..”

You weren't sure what else to say to that, especially since you were picking up the irritation that was now surrounding the doctor. If what he said was correct, perhaps there was some justification for that; you had pulled him away from Willsden to tend to Nobunaga, a man that you said had been on the brink of death. Yet the doctor had spent less than five minutes with him before coming out to declare to you that he was fine. Given the situation happening in the town that you had only learned of that day, Mayhew wasn't entirely wrong to be unhappy.

Nobunaga had been close to dying when you had found him, though. That was a certainty.

Mayhew huffed again.

“Well, since this is done, I need to head back to town,” he said, “I have patients that are in need of help.”

This was a waste of my time, he seemed to be saying.

“I-I see. Thank you for coming anyway,” you told him.

He just nodded at you before turning to begin the journey back to the village.

“Did you need anything before you leave?” you called after him.

“No thank you,” came the curt reply.

…. He wasn't happy with you. That much was clear.

Mayhew left, trudging back through the snow while you were left feeling confused and a bit foolish. You hadn't meant to exaggerate, nor had you thought you were doing so. The state Nobunaga had been in when you first saw him was still fresh in your mind. With those injuries and all that blood that he lost, you were certain that he needed a doctor.

Putting the ax down against the stump, you headed for the cabin. You wanted to hear from Nobunaga what had happened.

When you entered the wooden structure, you could immediately see why Mayhew had left irritated:

Nobunaga didn't appear to be ill or injured in the slightest.

It felt odd. It had only been a little over a week since the blizzard ended and during that time, Nobunaga's entire state of being had changed drastically. He no longer looked the part of someone on the brink of death. The man you had found when you first laid eyes on him – the sickly pale man with multiple bloody wounds and a knife in his side – was gone, replaced by one with color in his cheeks, no apparent pains coming from those wounded areas and with no issues pulling himself out of bed when he needed to. He was eager to do so, actually, as he eventually made a point to get up and walk about the cabin every few hours while he stressed to you that it was better for him if he pushed himself in order to regain his strength.

It was no different now, as you saw him sitting near the fire, his legs stretched out while he leaned back on his arms, his eyes focused on the burning pile of wood that would soon need to be replenished.

Nobunaga turned his head in your direction when he heard the door open, and he smiled once he saw you standing there.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey,” you began before asking “what…. What happened?”

Nobunaga shrugged.

“Nothing much. He looked me over and said I'll be fine as long as the wounds stay clean.”

“Oh.”

Nobunaga's eyebrows furrowed, and he repositioned himself so that he could lean forward as he asked “is something wrong?”

“Ah, well,” you began as you stepped into the cabin and shut the door behind you so no more of the cold would enter.

“The doctor said that you were in better shape than most of the people he had seen recently,” you finished.

One of Nobunaga's eyebrows lifted as he asked “isn't that a good thing?”

“Yes, of course it it,” you said, “but… How is that possible?”

Even though you saw him before you, lounging about in good health and good spirits, you still saw in him the way he had been previously: half frozen and covered in blood with distant look in his eye as he was surely sitting on death's door. You truly didn't understand how he had changed from that so quickly, nor how Mayhew seemed to not believe that he had been injured to that extent.

You continued, saying “you were almost dead when I found you. I don't understand how you've recovered that quickly.”

Nobunaga scratched the back of his head, his gaze aimed away from you. Perhaps he didn't even know, you thought to yourself.…. You shouldn't be putting stress like that on a man that's still recovering, you thought to yourself. Even if he is doing better than expected.

“I'm sorry,” you then said, seemingly much to his surprise.

“I suppose I'm just confused,” you added, “that entire day and the ones that followed were rather strange. But you don't need to worry about that.”

“No, it's…..”

Nobunaga's voice trailed off, as he didn't seem to know what to say to you.

“Maybe…. Maybe the care you gave me was a lot better than you realized,” he then said, “and that's what helped me get better so fast.”

“But I didn't do anything other than change bandages and keep the wounds clean,” you said.

“Maybe that was enough,” he answered as he shrugged.

“… Oh.”

You weren't sure what to say. Largely because what he was telling you didn't sound entirely right; surely it wasn't that easy to overcome the injuries brought on by bullet wounds. But by all accounts, Nobunaga appeared to be fine. So maybe he was right and what little you were able to do had been enough.

Or maybe Nobunaga was just incredibly lucky the wounds just happened to not become worse over time. That seemed a bit more likely in your mind over anything you might have done.

Oh well. As long as he was healthy, that was all that mattered, wasn't it?

“Did you finish chopping up the wood?” Nobunaga then asked, his gaze once more going to the fire.

Right. You knew you were forgetting something.

“No, I didn't. I thought I'd get some of that done while doctor Mayhew was looking you over, but he finished with you faster than I was expecting,” you explained. You then turned around, preparing to head back outside as you added “I shouldn't be out long.”

But before you left, Nobunaga said “I could do that if you wanted.”

You glanced back at him as you smiled and shook your head.

“Even if you are fine now, it's better not to tempt fate by making you do something arduous,” you explained, “just relax for now. I'll be finished soon.”

“Besides,” you added, “you aren't dressed for the cold at the moment.”

All Nobunaga had were those ratty trousers and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he seemed to concede when you brought up that point. But even still, Nobunaga seemed disappointed as he rested his elbow on his knee, leaning his chin on his hand.

Worried that he was uncomfortable, you said “I can always run back to town to get you clothes after I'm finished.”

He raised his eyebrow at you again.

“You already went there once today. I'm not making you do that again,” he said, “you're tired too, aren't you?”

Nobunaga was right. You were tired. Even though a week had passed, you still felt the ache that had been brought about after you'd dragged him through the forest. Today hadn't been any good on your legs, walking a total of 16 miles going and coming from Willsden. All you wanted to do was sit down next to Nobunaga and let the heat from the fire soothe the aches in your limbs.

But then how would you keep the fire going when you had nothing else to feed it?

“I'll be alright,” you told him, “and then tomorrow, I'll head out early to the town and get you some suitable clothing.”

Nobunaga accepted that with a small nod of his head.

With a plan seemingly in place, you returned to the outside. But when you closed the door behind you and caught once last glimpse of Nobunaga, that image came again: of the dying man who needed help, a knife in his side.

The door shut firmly, and you stood still for a moment as you remembered that part.

The knife. The thing that fell out of his side – presumably a bullet – that was meant to take his life.

And then there was the way he'd been digging it out of himself.

He'd been desperate to get it out.

Part of you wanted to ask why, as even in a crazed state, you couldn't imagine what would compel someone to do such a thing. But then again, you'd never experienced being in that sort of mindset, so who knew the ways in which it had made sense in his head during that time. He likely didn't even remember doing it, and despite that part that wanted to ask, you kept yourself from doing so. Nobunaga either wouldn't remember or you would bring up a painful memory for him.

You didn't want to do that to him.

After all that he had been through, you wanted to make sure you protected his well being. Both physical and mental.

Due to the way you had hurried to get the doctor the day prior, you hadn't noticed it then. But on your subsequent trip to Willsden that next day, you felt that a grim atmosphere had settled over the town. The people who were outside looked sullen as you walked past, as though some great weight was upon them. You also noticed something else that you hadn't before: two of the homes on your way in to the town had their doorways boarded up. There were no signs of life within those buildings.

While wondering how you hadn't noticed something that obvious yesterday, you also wondered what exactly had happened.

Your answer came from the clerk sitting at the general store's register:

A monster had attacked.

Before the blizzard, he had said, a beast had descended on the town late into the night, breaking into the two homes you had seen boarded up and killing the inhabitants within them before others in the town could come to their rescue. A group that formed to kill the monster chased it into the woods, where three more perished before the blacksmith took it out with two shots.

Although the blacksmith had been successful in felling the monster, a total of seven people had died. Children had lost parents and spouses had lost their loved ones, and just about everyone within the town had been friends with a few of those who were lost. It was hard for most to feel good about the victory when the town had suffered in such a way. Now what most were doing was their utmost to ensure that such a tragedy would never happen again.

“I suppose we can't make fun of the blacksmith for his superstitions anymore,” the clerk said, their tone trying to be lighter as they said “doesn't feel right to mock it when it was his own special bullets that killed the thing.”

“And you're certain that it died?” you asked.

“Well, they didn't find the body,” they admitted, “but by all accounts, the monster took off running and looked to be stumbling around when it did so. The ones that were there claimed that it was in its death throes, so I'm choosing to believe them.”

“I see.”

The clerk then glanced over at you in the middle of wrapping up a parcel for you – filled with clothes meant for Nobunaga – and said “a lot of us thought you were dead.”

You blinked.

“Why?” you asked.

“That thing came from the same direction as your cabin,” they explained, “we had figured it had gotten you first before it came for the rest of us.”

“….. Oh.”

The air between the two of you became awkward, which the clerk immediately realized as they tried to backtrack, telling you that everyone was happy that you hadn't died and the only reason no one had checked on you was because of the blizzard that had hit immediately after the attack. You waved it off, telling them that you understood why no one had checked and that it had taken a week for you as well to feel like you could make the long journey through the snow. That seemed to fix the awkward atmosphere, and you left soon after, the large parcel containing Nobunaga's new clothes in your arms as you stepped outside.

There was only one last stop to be made before you headed back home – to the marshal's office to report the crime that Nobunaga had been the victim of. Once you had told your story, the marshal said that he would look into it, but he doubted that there was much chance that the criminals would be caught given how long it had been by now.

“They might already be dead,” he told you, “either from the weather or that monster. It'll save me some trouble if that's the case.”

“You're lucky to still be alive,” the marshal then added, “being so far away from us, you're an easy target.”

You responded to that statement by giving him a forced smile.

During the walk back to the cabin, your thoughts went in different directions: first of how Nobunaga was right and that there had been little point in reporting the crime, and then of how dangerous things had been in the area without you even knowing of it. Seven people had died, and if those you spoke to were correct, you could have been among them. If the monster had attacked really did come from the direction of your cabin, it could have been very close by without you realizing.

The thought sent a shudder through you, and you held the parcel tighter to yourself as you walked.

The fear that something could get you while you were on your own wasn't a new one – you'd thought about that a lot, especially during the long nights when you had difficulty getting to sleep. The statement that you were an easy target was absolutely correct; were it not for the fact that you had nowhere else to go, you would have left the cabin and moved to be closer to the others.

Although it wasn't entirely true that you had nowhere else to go.

If you really wanted to gain the advantage of more safety in numbers, all you needed to do was find one of the single men of the town and convince him into marriage.

But you didn't want that.

You liked the freedom you got in living at the cabin, even if it scared you sometimes. Although it wasn't a bad idea to purchase some sort of weapon. That wouldn't happen anytime soon, however. Glancing down at the parcel, you felt a bit grim as a fair amount of your jenny had gone to purchasing the clothes. But you got over it quickly. It was necessary. Nobunaga didn't deserve to spend anymore time in the manner that he was. After he had lost everything, you were happy to help.

You were happy he was there, as well. Because despite how you had told yourself that you didn't care about being left alone in the wilderness, it was nice to have someone to talk to. Especially someone as friendly as Nobunaga had proven to be.

And maybe having just one extra person around would be enough to assuage your fears of anything coming for you in the dead of night.

Nobunaga was pleased with the clothes you presented to him that afternoon. Finally, he was able to change out of his bloody clothing and into something nicer. And more importantly, warmer.

“Maybe now you'll let me help out around here,” he told you as he slipped his arms into a jacket.

You nodded.

“As long as you don't strain yourself, that would be nice,” you told him.

“I'll be fine.”

To that, you just smiled and nodded again.

He smiled back at you, and when you looked into his eyes, you saw a warmth within them.

Nobunaga seemed like he was happy.

You were just glad that he was still alive so he could experience such an emotion.

The night ended with Nobunaga making note of the fact that your portion of dinner was much smaller than the one you had given him, but you brushed off the concern as you said this was normal.

He seemed to accept it.

It was as if he'd never been injured.

Within a short period Nobunaga had taken over the more strenuous tasks of maintaining the cabin, most of it involving the chopping of firewood so the two of you could continue to keep warm. You had been worried about letting him do it at first given that one of his injuries had been on his shoulder, and you weren't certain that he should be putting such strain on that area, but he insisted that he would be fine. And that seemed to be the case as you never saw any ounce of pain flash across his face when he would bring the ax down upon the wooden logs.

Despite everything that had happened to him, Nobunaga was doing just fine.

But even with how well he appeared to be doing, you still felt compelled to worry over him. Even if that version of him you had first met was now gone, you couldn't remove the image of him out of your mind. So you made sure to ask after him, if he was feeling well and if he ever needed you to take over that particular task again.

He never did. Nobunaga would always reply that he was fine and that you didn't need to worry about him, and the way he would tell you always indicated that he was being truthful with you.

He also didn't seem to mind at all the ways you kept an eye on him. If anything, he appeared to be pleased whenever you did.

The days passed by comfortably with new routines setting in for the both of you, with Nobunaga taking care of the majority of the work that needed to be done outside while you focused your energies on the interior of the cabin.

Although it wasn't completely comfortable for you, as during the entire time since you had brought Nobunaga to your home, you had continued to sleep on the rug in front of the fireplace. As expected, it was starting to wear on you, but you didn't mention it to him. After letting him use it for so long, you had no intentions of kicking him out of it, and you told yourself that you could bear it.

Despite not mentioning anything to Nobunaga, he noticed.

One night you awoke to find that he had placed you in the bed while you had slept.

While the gesture was surely meant to be a sweet one, you were more alarmed when you saw that Nobunaga was sleeping beside you, as the bed was just barely able to fit the two of you in it.

It caused a mild panic at first as your heart beat rapidly and you looked to escape the situation. With the way he had placed you on the side next to the wall, the options you had were to crawl down to the foot of the bed and get out that way, or clamber over Nobunaga and hope that you didn't wake him as he slept.

You had decided to go with the former, even if Nobunaga did deserve the inconvenience of having his sleep interrupted for the way he'd moved you about like that. Sitting up with the intentions of slipping out of the bed sheets, you glanced over at the spot you usually occupied while steadying yourself with a hand on the mattress.

…. It had been a while since you had slept in your own bed, you thought to yourself. And while you weren't blaming Nobunaga for that, the surface you had made for yourself out of the rug and blankets was barely passable as a spot to sleep in. Your body was tired and sore and it was affecting you during the day.

Nobunaga must have seen that; perhaps that was part of why he refused to let you do the more physical chores, you mused.

You clutched at the blankets on top of you, now not wanting to pull them off so you could leave the bed despite the inappropriateness of the situation.

But he wouldn't have meant anything bad by it, would he? No, even in the short amount of time you had known him, you felt certain that he didn't have any ulterior motives. He had simply seen that you were doing poorly by sleeping on the floor and he moved you to a spot where you would be comfortable. It was purely practical. And while it was still a bit upsetting that he had picked you up and moved you in your sleep, as you thought on it more, you imagined that he didn't know how to start such a conversation with you, or how he might have convinced you that it was fine to share a bed with him. He wouldn't have, most likely, and you would have stayed where you were.

You didn't want to go back to that spot in front of the fireplace now, though you still felt conflicted about staying in the bed.

Then, a new thought – if it was just for one night, that would be fine, wouldn't it? Just once so you could recover a bit more strength, and then you would go back to how it had been before. It was purely practical, you repeated to yourself. The only thing he meant by it was so you could have a comfortable nights sleep for once. It was only good intentions from a man who wanted to repay you for all of your kindness. As long as nothing further happened, it would be okay.

Now having convinced yourself of that, you lay back down on the bed, though you did scoot away slightly from Nobunaga's sleeping form. Or as much as you were able to with the wall right next to you.

There would need to be a discussion about this in the morning, but for now, you chose to rest, and you fell back into slumber with Nobunaga at your side.

That following morning, there wasn't much of a discussion to be had. You expressed how alarming it had been to find yourself in bed next to him, and while Nobunaga acknowledged and apologized for doing that without asking you beforehand, he didn't seem especially sorry. Nor did he seem to really hear you when you expressed why it had bothered you.

It furthered your worry that he was dismissing your concerns. But he did promise that it wouldn't happen again, and since there had been nothing else about him that alarmed you, you chose to take his word.

At least he hadn't pointed out that you chose to stay with him that night.

“If you need to rest, make sure to let me know.”

Nobunaga glanced over at you and gave a slight not before he returned his focus to the forest around him while you followed behind, the basket meant for carrying wood on your back as the two of you scoured the surrounding areas for fuel for the fireplace. As was often the case during the winter, the main effort you took towards surviving was to make sure you kept warm, thus you were often out in the forest for that reason.

It was the first time Nobunaga had joined you.

He'd been insistent, saying that he could help out beyond what you were allowing him to do and that he was worried about you going out on your own. Nothing you said convinced him to let you leave by yourself, and so the two of you left together.

No matter how hard you tried, you still checked over him frequently, ready to give him the option of going back when or if he found that he was straining himself too much. Even if he and the doctor said that he was fine, you couldn't imagine that he really was okay after such a short period of time.

But you got the sense that Nobunaga wasn't as happy now with the way you kept an eye on him. Because of that, you decided to stay quiet for now and hope he would be honest with you if he truly wasn't doing well.

The time spent outside passed in silence as the two of you went through with the tiring but necessary task. Nobunaga showed no signs of being put out, and seemed to be in better shape than you were as after a few hours of slogging through the ankle deep snow, you were starting to reach your limit as you were out of breath and wanted nothing more than to return to the cabin so you could sit down. Your energy was distinctly lower than it normally would be, and you tried to ignore the empty feeling in your stomach.

If he noticed, Nobunaga made no mention of it.

Eventually the two of you had collected enough wood, and it was agreed that the two of you would return, to which you quietly felt relieved. Again, the two of you walked through the woods, and just as before you remained quiet, still worried that perhaps your companion was becoming irritated with you. You walked behind him, allowing him to take the lead as you traveled along the path back to home.

With your eyes on his back, you noticed how often his head turned upwards as he looked up to the sky.

When your eyes followed to where his gaze had gone, you found that the only thing there was to note aside from the many trees was the half full moon in the sky that was present despite it being daytime. Either he was looking at that or something in the trees that you weren't catching any sight of, you mused. Though you chose not to linger on it; it didn't seem to matter much.

It didn't take much longer to return to the cabin, at which you let out a small sigh of relief as you were eager to feel warm again once you were inside.

Nobunaga glanced behind him that time.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Of course. Why?” you responded.

“Seems like you're happier than normal to be back.”

“I suppose there have been a lot of anxieties about the outside building in me,” you admitted, “but there isn't much to be done when we need to head out to survive, right?”

He nodded slowly before turning back towards the cabin as he said “I haven't helped much with those anxieties, probably.”

“Actually, I feel a lot better with you around.”

“You do?”

You nodded at him when he glanced towards you again, and the way you smiled at him seemed to embarrass him as he just as quickly looked away and walked to the cabin with a bit more urgency. Following him at a slower pace, you felt a bit more at ease now.

But that feeling lasted only a moment as you took the time to look about the area that surrounded your home and found your gaze landing on the two pines not far from you. The same two pines where you found Nobunaga once he had woken up.

The same two pines that had the footprints between them on that morning.

You stopped in your tracks as you stared at the area before you, your breathing starting to come in shallow as you remembered what you had been told had happened at the town. You had tried not to think about it as the topic was morbid and scary, but now…. Now you felt rather dense as you hadn't put the pieces together until this very moment, and fear was building within you once more.

Nobunaga's eyebrows furrowed once he saw that you hadn't followed, and he turned around in order to place a hand on your shoulder when he had reached you.

“What is it?” he asked you.

“…. I realized something awful,” you said, your eyes still fixed on the ground between the trees.

“What?”

“When I went into town last, I learned that a monster had attacked,” you explained. Your hands clutched at your skirt as you added “and I just remembered something strange I saw the morning I found you.”

Nobunaga's eyebrows furrowed as he asked “what did you find?”

“Animal tracks. Large ones that were right over there. I thought it was a bear at first, but now I'm not so sure. I think it may have been that monster. One of them even said that it seemed to have come from this direction.”

You let out a shaky breath as you added “seven people were killed before they felled the beast, and I just…… I'm just terrified at the thought of what would have happened if it had broken in. If it was able to kill seven able bodied men and women, then it would have killed me easily. No one would have even known until the snow thawed and they realized I was nowhere to be seen.”

Nobunaga kept his hand on your shoulder while he remained quiet. When you glanced up at him, you found that his mouth was pressed into a hard line, and it seemed as though he was waiting for you to say something else.

But you weren't sure of what else you might say. Everything that could have spilled from your mouth in that moment seemed to have come to a stop, and you were left staring down at that space where you had seen those tracks nearly two weeks before, and all you were capable of doing in that moment was imagining what might have happened to you. If the men from the village would have boarded up the door to your home after finding your body.

You hadn't thought too much on your safety since inheriting the cabin, and now you were wondering if you were only still alive through sheer luck.

Finding your voice again, you then asked “just how close to death do you think I was that night? If that creature really was outside my cabin?”

His hand tensed slightly at the question, but this time, Nobunaga answered.

“Probably really close,” he admitted.

You glanced over to him and found that he was no longer looking at you.

“It was probably up to that creature's whim on whether he would kill you or not,” he said, “he just chose not to.”

“…. He?” you asked.

Nobunaga shrugged.

“He, it, call it what you want. Doesn't matter,” he said, “all that does matter is that you're alive, right?”

“I suppose.”

He arched an eyebrow as he asked “what's wrong?”

“Something else could always come by, couldn't it? And I don't have any means of defending myself. I certainly can't afford any sort of decent weapon,” you said.

I don't even know how long the food I have will last

You kept that thought to yourself, even though you knew you couldn't do that forever.

“If that beast isn't dead, or those men who attacked you come back and find this place….”

Your voice trailed off as you didn't want to finish that sentence.

“You don't need to worry about that,” Nobunaga told you.

“Why?”

“Because I'm here now.”

Nobunaga's hand moved from your shoulder so he could stroke your cheek gently, though you couldn't help but flinch at the unexpected contact.

“You saved me from dying. Somehow, despite how lost I was, you managed to find me, and not only did you take me all the way back here, but you nursed me back to health.”

He was smiling as he told you “so I've decided that I'll repay everything you've done and more. Now that I'm here, you don't need to worry about your safety. Because I'll protect you.”

The words lingered in the air a moment as you mulled them over in your head. A response formed, though your mouth remained closed as you knew immediately it wouldn't be taken well if you were to voice it. To tell him that you felt he was the one who needed to be protected would cause a tension that would be hard to deal with in the small space of the cabin, especially when his eyes burned so brightly with a passion you hadn't seen before.

You gave him a small smile as you took a more diplomatic approach, telling him “of course you will, Nobunaga.”

It sounded forced. It was forced.

And Nobunaga picked up on it as he frowned slightly.

Still desperate to keep the peace, you grasped at his hand on your cheek, pulling it off gently and grasping it lightly as you said “thank you for making me feel better.”

That seemed to placate him, as he nodded. Though you could tell from his expression that his feelings over your response weren't completely gone.

Dread filled you as you made your way towards the pantry that held your food storage. You didn't want to open it as you knew what you would see: empty shelves and barely anything to eat. Whatever you had in there might last you a few days at the most, and after that point, you would need to find some way to scavenge for food until spring came.

…. That was several months away, you noted. With both little food and little jenny left, how in the world were you and Nobunaga going to survive until then?

Your thoughts went everywhere, thinking of the items you owned that you could trade and the few jobs that were available within the town. Walking there in the current conditions would be an ordeal, especially if you needed to do so multiple times a week, but you had no choice. You couldn't allow either of you to starve.

Nobunaga getting some sort of work was also something that needed to happen, though you still found yourself hesitant to bring it up. You had been the one to rescue him, after all. Why couldn't you take care of him sufficiently? Thus, every time you thought to ask him, you felt guilty.

But he was fine. He had said so and had repeatedly prove so. So it was reasonable to expect him to pull his weight, especially when he was the reason why your food storage had depleted so rapidly.

It wasn't like he had meant for that to happen

With a sigh, you willed the thought away. You'd bring up the idea of him working later, but for now, you needed to make up something that would pass as a meal. So while a lump had settled in your throat, you opened the pantry door as you readied yourself for the dreadful sight of barren shelves.

Only that wasn't what you found at all.

Instead of empty shelves you expected, the pantry was overflowing with food. A variety of meats, vegetables and fruits were at your disposal, and all you could do was stare on in shock. None of that had been there the previous night.

It couldn't be real, you then decided.

So you closed the door, and then opened it again after a few moments, expecting the reality of your situation to return once you saw the lack of food within.

Except you still found it to be completely full.

You looked on in confusion as you wondered where this had come from.

“You seem pretty surprised.”

You turned towards the doorway and found Nobunaga entering, a handful of firewood in his arms. Shutting the door with his foot, he walked across the room to the fireplace and dumped the chopped wood within the box that sat next to it, wiping his hands after. You said nothing, at which point he looked back to you, and then he noticed the pantry.

Nobunaga smiled.

“We won't be going hungry for a while now,” he said.

You blinked.

“You did this?” you asked.

He gave you an odd look as he asked “who else would have?”

“But…. But where did you get all of this? How could you afford it?” you pressed.

Nobunaga opened his mouth, as though he was going to answer. But then he stopped and, seemingly thinking better of it, shook his head.

“For you, it might be better if you remain ignorant of that,” he said, “just trust me when I say that everything will be alright.”

…. You didn't like that response, and you were able to come to only one conclusion:

Everything that was in the pantry, he had stolen.

Your head swiveled back to the pantry as you looked over the contents again, and with all of the good quality food that was present, your brain raced as you tried to add up the amounts in your head.

This wasn't some little crime. If you were found with all of this, the two of you would face a severe punishment.

But that wasn't the worst of it, you told yourself. The worst part was that Nobunaga had very likely cleaned out the food storage of someone else. Someone who definitely needed it just to survive.

“Nobunaga,” you began, your eyes darting all about the pantry as you asked “what have you done?”

“I've provided for you.”

You turned your head back to him as he walked towards you while he continued to speak.

“You should have told me earlier that I was causing you issues,” he said, “how am I supposed to know that there's a problem if you won't tell me?”

“I-You were injured and…. I needed to take care of you,” you said.

“So you didn't want to bring it up because of that?”

Though you were uncertain of yourself, you still nodded.

Stopping right in front of you, Nobunaga let out a sigh.

“That's a sweet sentiment, but I'd like it if you stopped viewing me that way. Look at what happened because you weren't saying anything? You were starving yourself just to keep me healthy.”

Placing a hand on your shoulder, he continued.

“I'm not fragile,” he told you, “I can help you. And I want to help you, to keep you safe and to repay you for everything you've done. Whatever it is that you need, I can get it for you. So don't keep treating me like I'm some sickly patient, alright?”

After a moment, you slowly nodded. Nobunaga was either genuinely unaware of your hesitance or willfully ignoring it, because he smiled again while his hand traveled up to caress your cheek.

“I took care of the firewood, so you don't need to worry about that,” he then said. Then, after looking at the pantry, he grinned at you as he added “I'll make breakfast for us, too. With how long I've spent lounging around in that bed, I'm out of practice.”

Again, you slowly nodded and allowed him to push you out of the way as he selected what he wanted out of the pantry.

“What about….”

You trailed off when Nobunaga looked to you, and you didn't know why you lost your voice so easily.

You tried again when you asked “what about the people who need this?”

You pointed to the food as you did so.

Nobunaga gave you an odd look.

“We need this,” he said.

That was all he said before he continued with his task.

The morning was spent with you feeling uncertain and guilty over the meal you ate, all the while Nobunaga had further shrank the boundaries between the two of you as he sat directly beside you.

He seemed proud of himself.

The rate at which things changed left you speechless. Where he had once been the helpless man that you had saved, Nobunaga had now taken charge over your own home. He kept up in taking care of the more physically strenuous tasks, but you were now barely allowed outside anymore as he told you to let him take care of everything.

It didn't sit well with you, but you said nothing as you told yourself that the situation was only temporary. Although it had never been discussed, you had never intended on this being a permanent situation, and surely Nobunaga knew that. It would only last until spring at the very latest, and then he would be gone once the climate outside wasn't so harsh. So you allowed it. It would only be a few more months and then it would be over.

Though there were many times late during the nights that you wondered why you allowed it, and you wondered if this had been born from your desperation to have someone else around the cabin with you.

It brought up questions about yourself which you found you didn't want to answer.

It also felt like it had been an eternity since you had brought him here, and yet, based on the way the moon was slowly filling up with each passing day, it had only been a few weeks at most.

Nobunaga noticed that, as well. Often, when you would peek outside to watch him work, you saw him gazing up at the moon during the day, and the look on his face was difficult to tell what exactly he was feeling.

Was it fear? Or anticipation?

Then, the day before the full moon, something changed.

Nobunaga was hovering over you more than usual.

Like an overly attached pet, he followed after you no matter what you did and seemed annoyed whenever you would back away in an attempt to give yourself some space. That wouldn't last long as you would soon find him hovering around you again, staring intently at you as he did so.

As a result, that day felt especially long. You tried several times to ask him why he was acting the way he was, what was wrong, what could you do to help him?

Nobunaga didn't answer you.

The longer he behaved the way he did, the more unsafe you felt around him. All you could do was wonder why he was doing this.

No words were shared over dinner; neither of you wanted to talk to the other, it seemed. Though you only knew your own reasons as to why you didn't want to speak. Whatever his reasons were and how they tied in to the way he'd been behaving, that was all being kept to himself.

You finished your meal fast, and after you had cleaned up, you found yourself next to the fire with a book in hand as you tried to ignore him. But that didn't stop him from pestering you.

“Why are you sitting over there?” he asked.

“I'd like some time to myself,” you answered, briefly glancing at him before returning to the pages in front of you.

Evidently that wasn't a good reason for you to be away from him, as he then said “come sit with me.”

“…. I'd really like some time to myself,” you reiterated.

He scoffed.

“Hard to get that in such close quarters,” he told you dryly.

“I'm sure we can manage,” you muttered.

“Hm.”

It didn't sound as though he had truly conceded, yet moments passed by and nothing further happened. He wasn't insisting that you go over to him, nor was he walking up to you and getting in your space again. Not that it made you feel any better after his behavior during the day.

That was the only bit of reprieve you were granted from him, as when you were preparing your area in front of the fireplace to sleep for the night, Nobunaga came up and grabbed you in order to take you over to the bed, placing you beneath the sheets before he joined you shortly.

You didn't say a word. And you couldn't understand why you didn't.

Just what was it that was keeping your throat clogged up and your limbs stiff and immobile as you were made to do something that you didn't want?

… Fear, that's what it was.

Nobunaga was scaring you.

As you thought over the events of the last few days – no, beyond that. Nobunaga had been scaring you for some time now. You simply hadn't wanted to acknowledge it because you didn't know how to handle the situation. Now you were stuck in bed with a man who made you more frightened than you thought was possible, and you had no way to escape him.

So you turned over, facing the wall as you clutched the blanket close to yourself. Nobunaga said nothing to you, and as you assumed that he was focusing on sleeping, you told yourself to do the same.

At the very least, this would be over faster the quicker you fell asleep.

If only it was that easy.

How long you spent staring at the wall of your cabin, you had no idea. It felt like hours, but you were certain that it couldn't have been that long. Your sense of time was warping due to your distress. And again you wondered: why was he doing this?

The entire time, you had assumed he was already asleep, but then the sound of him turning over in the bed caught your attention, and suddenly you felt his gaze on the back of your head. You didn't need to look at him to be able to tell how intently he was staring at you. And the longer that went on, the more discomfort you felt as you laid in bed next to him.

Pulling the cover closer to yourself, you shut your eyes as you tried your hardest to get to sleep. It was fine; all he was doing was staring at you. While it wasn't ideal, you could ignore that.

Just go to sleep, you told yourself.

Things stayed like that for a few moments: you slowly curling in on yourself as you willed yourself to ignore the way Nobunaga stared at you, all the while he didn't say a word. He needed to know, didn't he? He needed to realize how uncomfortable he was making you. So why was he continuing to do it? Why didn't he care about how he was affecting you? Why had he been behaving so strangely today?

You could ask, but you doubted he would answer. If he hadn't the times before then why would he do so now?

So again you willed yourself to ignore his behavior.

It seemed to be working. Despite the weight of his gaze that was still on top of you, sleep was beginning to take hold. The exhaustion you felt at this time of night finally allowed you to put those worries aside, and the sound of the wind blowing the snow about outside gave you something else to focus on as you began to drift away.

Tomorrow, you sleepily thought. You would confront him tomorrow. Definitely.

Feeling a bit more at ease now, you relaxed a bit more, fully intending on getting a good night's rest.

You didn't hear the way he shifted in the bed.

But you felt when his hand reached out for your shoulder beneath the covers.

Despite flinching a little on feeling his touch, you did nothing to stop him or even opened your eyes, instead keeping them squeezed shut. You shouldn't be reacting in that way, you told yourself. Slapping his hand away is what you should have done – what you should be doing. Pushing him away and demand to know the reason for his behavior, and if it wasn't good enough, you would tell him that he'd be leaving first thing in the morning. At the very least you needed to kick him out of your bed for the night.

All of those things you could and should have done, yet you were frozen, keeping your eyes closed as you willed yourself to ignore it. Nobunaga's hand remained on your shoulder, squeezing lightly as if to comfort you before he moved, grazing the area between your shoulder and neck with his knuckles.

… Perhaps it was an apology, you told yourself. He recognized now how out of line he had been today, and this was his way of trying to make up for that fact. Nobunaga didn't seem to be the type to apologize easily, so you told yourself that the explanation made sense.

You still weren't happy with him, but if he really did see how tense and upset you were, it was nice that he was making some sort of effort, even if you really wished he would just speak to you.

Tell him it's alright and the two of you can talk about it in the morning

The thought entered your head and, despite the anger you were still feeling towards the man, you decided that you would rather have peace and were about to voice just that.

Only Nobunaga chose that moment to move in closer behind you.

And his hand traveled from your shoulder down to your pelvis.

Your eyes shot open, now fully awake, and you clenched at the covers tightly as you felt that hand gently massage that part of you, moving over that intimate area of yours before settling on your hip, continually caressing you with soft touches through the material of your nightgown. His lips were now on you as well, as Nobunaga placed soft kisses to the exposed skin of your neck.

You knew where this was going and you desperately didn't want that to happen.

Say something, you told yourself. Tell him to stop.

Instead of doing that, your voice caught in your throat and you could only clutch the covers tighter to yourself.

Nobunaga noticed, and the relief you felt when he pulled his hand away from you was quickly dashed when he pried the covers away, leaving your form exposed to the air of the cabin with only your nightgown as protection. In response you whimpered, now clutching at the sheets beneath you as you once again curled in on yourself.

Why? Why were you acting so weak?

Do something

NOW

Despite the voice that screamed at you in your head, you remained frozen as Nobunaga did as he pleased, now appearing directly behind you, his breath hot on your ear as he reached for you again.

That time his hand went to your breasts, and any sense of shame nowhere to be found as he blatantly groped you.

The action caused you to shudder, and that was enough to make you fight back as your hands went to grab his wrist, gripping him tightly with the intent of pulling him off of you.

The noise he made when you tried that was unexpected:

He growled at you.

It was so deep that reverberated in your ear, and you froze again as you wondered how in the world a human was able to make such a sound.

Now stunned into submission, you did nothing when Nobunaga readjusted you, forcing you to stretch back out on your front so his hand could wander about your body freely, groping and squeezing where he liked with his free hand slipped beneath you so he could continue to fondle your chest. That time he forced the neckline of your gown to widen so his hand could slip through, and you felt the rough skin of his hands on your soft flesh.

You could only whimper in protest.

He either didn't notice or didn't care as he nuzzled into your neck, leaving chaste kisses in his wake while his hands continued to assault you, only one doing so with your nightgown still in its way.

How long would it remain that way? When would he tire of just touching you and move on to something else? Based on what you could feel poking into the back of your leg, it was likely going to be sometime soon.

You remained trapped between him and the wall with precious little space between you. With no fight left in you and no way of fighting him off, you pressed your eyes shut once more, hoping that this would all be over quickly somehow.

There was a sense of desperation when Nobunaga finally reached down for the hem of your gown and pulled it up, forcing it over your legs and hips until he had it just above your stomach. Now your entire lower half was exposed completely, and you once again felt the weight of his gaze, this time on that spot between your legs that you still had clenched shut.

…. It was really going to happen this way?

Your breath hitched when you felt him grab at your knee and pried your legs apart without much effort. His other hand had left your chest and you heard the sound of his trousers being shoved down.

You knew what was happening, and you continued to stare at the wall so you wouldn't need to have that image of him forever burned into your mind.

I don't want this I don't want this I don't want this

With that thought screaming through your head, you found your voice, what little there was of it.

“Please don't,” you whimpered.

What came out was so soft that you wouldn't have thought he had heard it. Or if he had, you felt as though he may have pretended that he didn't.

Yet he stopped.

You felt that his eyes were focused on your face, watching you, waiting for you to speak again.

Again, you managed to find your voice, and it was stronger this time when you forced the words out.

“Please. Not like this.”

You sounded pathetic in the way you begged. Whatever strength that you tried to convey to those around you was nowhere to be found now. All there was in this moment was a weak woman who couldn't even look the man assaulting her in the eyes.

No matter how weak and pathetic you appeared, it wouldn't be enough to stop him, would it? You could still feel his hard cock against your backside. He wouldn't stop what he was doing and take care of that himself, would he? Perhaps he would even blame you for this current situation; perhaps he would justify himself by saying that you brought this on when you made no complaint on sharing a bed with him.

You knew there would be many others who would agree with his sentiment.

Tears threatened to fall as you continued to clutch at the bed sheets, trying your best to prepare yourself for this situation that you couldn't escape. Nobunaga's hand was still on your leg, still being held slightly aloft and leaving the soft folds of your pussy exposed to the air of the cabin. It was still going to happen. All he needed to do was shift himself slightly and his length would slip into you. Not without some resistance, but no matter how much your tight walls would fight to keep him out, he would ultimately have his way through sheer force alone.

That was what you had thought.

Yet he now was still. While his hand remained on your leg, he made no move to violate you further.

…. Had your words reached him?

You found that you couldn't help yourself, and you turned your head slightly to look back at him.

Nobunaga noticed instantly, and your eyes met.

He looked uncertain of himself. That uncertainty grew when he saw your fearful expression.

Upon seeing that, you tried again.

“Please, Nobunaga,” you began, “you're better than this.”

Conflict only appeared to grow within him as his eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at you with a guilty expression.

You stayed where you were, not attempting to pull him off you again. Instead you continued to look at him, willing him with every fiber of your being to force him to stop, to make the guilt too much for him to handle. After you had saved his life, that should be enough to make him stop, shouldn't it?

All you could do was hope that it would be.

Moments passed in silence with neither of you saying anything.

Then Nobunaga moved.

He reached for your head and pushed it down onto the mattress, keeping his hand there so you were kept pressed down and could no longer turn to look at him. It hurt slightly, and you let out a small groan of pain only to be shushed by Nobunaga.

Then he let go of your leg and pinned it to the mattress as well.

Now you were confused. The action of holding your head down made no sense if he didn't intend on-

You felt his cock rub against the back of your thighs. Your thighs, that he was now holding down. And after a few moments, he pushed his cock between them.

… Why?

Again the question ran through your mind as you asked why he was doing this to you.

Had he always viewed you in such a way?

You were beyond words now, and you kept your grip on the sheets as Nobunaga continued to fuck your thighs. The hand he had on your head had fisted into your hair, and every now and then he would pull hard enough to make you whimper. Every time that happened, he would shush you. When he kept pulling too hard and you continued to make those small noises of pain, he chose to clamp his free hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

All the while he bore his weight down on you as he kept your legs pinned together with his own, and he continued to fuck into the simulated penetration of your thighs.

His hot breath on your neck became familiar as he leaned himself closer, his ragged breathing horribly loud in your ear as he got off to the awful situation. His hot length continued to breach the skin of your thighs as he kept you quiet and pliant for himself.

Closing your eyes was a poor idea, as you found that cutting off your sight only had you focusing more on the feeling of his dick against you, giving you insights to details you never wanted to know about. Of the veins, his length and the thickness-

No. You didn't want to think about those things.

So you kept your eyes open, keeping your gaze on the wooden wall of your cabin, doing your utmost to keep your focus on the wood grain that ran along the surface and keeping yourself from thinking of the man on top of you and how half of your face was repeatedly shoved into the mattress with every rough thrust of his hips.

The only saving grace of the situation was that he wasn't actually penetrating you.

Not long after, Nobunaga's groans became more guttural and his grip on you became harder. The pace of his thrusting became more erratic until he eventually pulled out of you.

And then you felt the warmth of his seed as he came on your thighs, coating your skin as he let out a relieved groan directly into your ear.

Once he was done, he fell on top of you, his grip finally loosening.

You continued to stay still.

Nobunaga did nothing further to you, and somehow, in the midst of the way you stared at the wall in shock while you tried to make sense of what had happened, you fell asleep. When you awoke the next morning, you were only allowed to stay in ignorant bliss for a few moments as you became aware again of his sticky release that was still splattered on your thighs, and all of the memories came rushing back within an instant.

That had been real?

The proof of that came when you cleaned yourself off with a cloth. At first your motions were slow, but as you thought longer on what had happened, you became more desperate to make yourself clean again. To get it off of you. It felt disgusting and you hated it.

If Nobunaga could tell that you were silently stewing in your feelings of betrayal and disgust, he made no effort to address it.

That day you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. Even when he hovered just as much as he had the previous day, you refused to acknowledge him. Instead of being upset with you, Nobunaga didn't seem to care. If anything, his behavior from the previous day had only escalated, as he made a point to have some form of physical contact with you, be it as simple as his hand on your arm or as extreme as wrapping his arms around you while he held you close, pressing kisses against your neck and humming to himself.

You didn't respond and kept your gaze averted.

How could he do that to you?

How could he continue to do this to you?

You couldn't bring yourself to ask, and your mind was stuck in an endless circle of questioning just what had happened while your body numbly went along with what Nobunaga wanted.

Not long into the day you found yourself sitting on his lap, as he had settled the both of you on the rug in front of the fire. His chest was pressed against yours while his face had been buried in the crook of your neck, and he breathed loudly while he held you tightly. Occasionally he spoke in soft murmurs against your skin, and the hand he had resting against your back would trail up and down against your spine with soft motions, as if to counteract the rough way he had treated you before.

Whatever it was that he said, you didn't hear it. Nor did you bother to struggle when he first pulled you into his embrace. Again, you allowed it to happen. You now found yourself staring up at the walls, taking in the knots in the wood and counting them over and over in your head as your mind no longer wanted to acknowledge what was happening.

This would stop eventually, wouldn't it? It needed to.

Nobunaga would let you go, he would leave, and then you would be free of him.

How you had come to the conclusion that was the way things would play out, you had no idea. But you chose to believe that anyway.

It was nicer to hope that this would come to an end.

And after a long while, it did.

Some time later, Nobunaga finally pulled away from you before he gently pushed you off of his lap, making you settle on the floor while he knelt in front of you. Two large hands then cupped your cheeks, and your gaze was then directed towards him.

Nobunaga smiled at you and leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead. A kiss that you didn't react to. He seemed unbothered by that fact as he followed it up by giving you a reassuring pat on the cheek.

“I'll be back soon.”

With that, he took his hands off of you as he stood to his full height and turned towards the door. With a few short steps he had reached the entrance. And without a single more word, Nobunaga opened the door, revealing the outside. It was getting close to dark, and yet Nobunaga was walking out into the cold without an extra layer of protective clothing or even a lantern to guide his way in what would be the quickly coming night.

Through the snow that layered the ground, through the pair of pines, Nobunaga walked forward.

Going, going.

Into the forest, you watched as his form grew smaller and became harder to see from the trees that surrounded him on all sides. Until…..

…. Gone.

He was gone.

And left in his wake was the wide open door of your cabin, and you, still sitting in the spot where he had placed you.

You didn't stay that way for long. The cold had quickly seeped into your cabin, and upon the realization that he was gone, truly gone, you didn't feel as though you could move. Now that the strength had returned to you, you pulled yourself to your feet and rushed over to the door, slamming it shut and locking it.

Now Nobunaga couldn't get back in.

You sank down to the floor as sobs began to wrack your body, all of the emotion that you had been bottling up within yourself coming out in a burst.

You couldn't sleep that night.

Hours after Nobunaga had left and you had broken down crying, you had briefly found yourself tossing and turning in the bed as you tried to rest. The memories of what had happened kept you from sleeping, and even when you went through with the effort of flipping the mattress onto the other side in the hopes that might make a difference, your sleeplessness continued.

It wouldn't leave your mind, and no matter how many times you made yourself survey the room to confirm that you were alone, every time you closed your eyes, you were back where you were last night.

Pinned down and vulnerable.

You gave up on the bed, and sleep as you sat down by the fire, stoking the dying flames by adding more wood. As you sat there, huddled by the fireplace, you found that you wanted to cry again.

All that you had done for him, and that was the way Nobunaga chose to repay you? By violating you in the worst way possible? How? How could he know all that you had done for him and still do such a thing? The only saving grace of the situation was that he hadn't gone through with it completely once you had begged him not to. But he had still made the choice to use you. And it was clear that he saw nothing wrong with what he had done.

It was sickening.

The tears that were forming were quickly and harshly wiped away with the sleeve of your nightgown. No, no more of that, you told yourself. You had wasted enough of your tears on that man. Tears and effort and your own goodwill. No more of that.

He wasn't in any way deserving of it.

…. Though maybe you weren't entirely blameless.

You glanced about at the closed pantry door that was still full of the food you knew he had stolen. The food that you had found yourself trying to justify, as you had truly had needed it. Would the people of Willsden be understanding? Someone there had surely been the victim in that crime, so you feared that they wouldn't. After how much time had passed since you first learned of the theft, you feared that you would be considered to be just as responsible.

Perhaps you shouldn't have feared the jail cell so much; if you had done the right thing at the beginning, maybe you wouldn't be going through this.

The right thing.

You had thought that had been helping Nobunaga when you found him, but now….

You stayed in that spot by the fire, your arms wrapped around your legs while your chin rested on top of your knees as you watched the flames dancing atop the logs. Late into the night, you sat there, waiting until the racing thoughts in your mind would slow and you would finally feel tired enough to succumb to a dreamless sleep. That was what you needed most right now.

It might be best to stay on the rug, you told yourself. You worried that if you returned to the bed, your mind would be alert again with those awful memories. Perhaps you needed to sleep on the floor again until the inevitable stiffness would return to your joints and force you to take the more comfortable spot on the bed. And if the bed was still causing you issues, you would get a new one once spring came.

….. With what jenny would you do that?

You sighed, pulling your face down so your knees were touching your forehead.

Tears and effort and goodwill and your own savings, and all of it for nothing.

As much as you tried to tell yourself that there was no use in being bitter about it, it was hard to keep yourself from feeling that way.

It was late when you finally felt as though you were tired enough that you might be able to sleep. With still no desire to return to the bed, you laid down on the rug, still staring at the fireplace while you hoped that sleep would find you quickly. Despite the slight chill that came from your lack of a blanket, you felt too tired to get up and grab one from the bed. That was a good sign. That you were too comfortable where you were to grab such a thing surely meant that sleep would soon take you, and your mind could have a brief reprieve.

In that moment, that was all you wanted.

A knock sounded at the door.

Though the sound hadn't made with any terrible force, the unexpected noise wrenched you from that place of rest, and you pushed yourself up by your elbows as you turned your head to face the door.

The knock sounded a few moments later, the rapping of knuckles clear against the wooden surface.

In your mind, there was only one explanation: Nobunaga had returned.

Upon that realization, you scowled.

When he knocked a third time, you settled back down onto the rug, your arms wrapped around you while you drew your legs in closer.

You weren't opening the door for him; you were beyond the point of caring.

So you remained determined to ignore him while he continued to try and get your attention, the force of his knocks increasing and becoming more rapid the longer you made him wait. He would figure it out. He would realize that he was no loner welcome, and then he would find shelter elsewhere. Even if he didn't and he stayed on your doorstep until morning, you wouldn't budge: you weren't letting him in.

After several minutes of ceaseless knocking, it finally stopped. At that, you breathed out a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, happy that it was finally over.

It wasn't.

Because something bashed against the door.

Something that, when it hit, was loud enough to make you jump into a sitting position, your heartbeat increasing in seconds as you suddenly felt terror and confusion as you stared at the door.

When that something hit a second time, you were watching as you saw the wood of the door bend inward, buckling beneath the force of whatever had been launched at it. Whatever Nobunaga was using to try and break into your cabin, it was something large and powerful.

You blinked.

He was trying to break in.

He wasn't even allowing you to be in peace after he had assaulted you; he felt entitled enough to demand entry into your home even after you had locked him out.

How could he do that?

“Nobunaga!” you cried, tears forming in your eyes as you forced yourself to call out his name, “just leave me alone! I don't want you here!”

The bashing against the door didn't stop, and once it hit after you had finished speaking, you noticed a large crack in the wood.

You needed to defend yourself. What did you have? Pulling yourself to your feet, you scanned the room. A knife, you noted, near the area that served as your kitchen. It wasn't ideal considering that Nobunaga was stronger than you, but that was the best you could do. You took a step forward to grab it.

That was when the door caved in.

Splinters exploded everywhere accompanied by cold snow, skidding across the floor and landing at your feet. Panic began to set in, and you yelled at yourself to get the knife before he entered-!

Only when you looked to the doorway, what you saw wasn't Nobunaga.

The thing that entered wasn't human.

It resembled a wolf, though it was unlike any wolf you had ever seen. It was as tall as the average man, or perhaps even taller, and it made sure that it towered over you as it stood upon it's hind legs. As it pushed aside the remnants of your door, you saw that the front legs weren't in anyway normal for a wolf. The way they stretched out and the way that they bent – they looked like human arms that had been covered in pitch dark fur, though the deadly looking claws at the ends of those decidedly monstrous hands were equally inhuman.

Your mind was blank as you stared at it in shock.

As as it bent down to enter through the doorway, you found that your feet were taking you away from the creature, backing up until your heels hit the edge of your soft rug and you found yourself tumbling backwards, landing hard on your hands while you kept your eyes on the thing that was entering your home. All you could hear was your heartbeat getting louder and louder in your ears as the creature stepped inside fully and stood back up.

It looked at you and you couldn't think. You weren't capable of rational thought in that moment and your breathing came out fast and harsh through your mouth.

The only thing you knew was fear; a certainty that your death was imminent.

For a brief moment, you wished that Nobunaga hadn't left you.

The wolf creature took a step forward, the claws in its feet digging into the wood flooring while it held out one of those hands in your direction, fingers extended as it appeared to reach for you.

You responded by backing away, using your arms and legs in an attempt to scramble out of its grasp. But your escape was cut short when you reached the edge of the fireplace. Your cabin was small and there was nowhere else to run to. It blocked the only way in or out, and there was no chance that you could slip past it. It would grab you. It would grab you and it would kill you.

Again everything within you felt certain that you would not survive even a few moments more. This was the end.

It was coming closer with its hand still outstretched. You were trapped, caught between it and the fireplace, the heat of the flames now constant against your back.

This was the end, you repeated to yourself.

But you didn't want it to be.

With the fear overtaking you, you began to attack it by throwing whatever was in grabbing distance.

There wasn't much. The only thing closest to you was the fire poker, and all you accomplished when you threw it towards the creature was having it harmlessly bounce off its leg and clatter to the floor. Part of you knew you should have held onto it, that it would be a more effective weapon if you had kept it, but the sheer panic was still controlling you.

That was what drove you to delve your hand into the fire and throw a burning log in it's direction.

You barely felt the heat that singed your palm and fingers, and it was flying within moments.

The creature actually seemed to look shocked at that.

Yet the second attempt to defend yourself ended up being even more pathetic, as you missed the monster completely and the log went flying towards the other side of your room where it landed squarely in the center of your bed.

The mattress and the blankets immediately caught fire, something which the creature noticed immediately.

And then it switched it's attention.

Instead of reaching for you, it rushed over to your burning bed. Your head turned as you watched it, and you saw that it was desperately trying to put out the flames by beating down on them.

….. Why was it doing that?

You only had the briefest moment to wonder that, as your eyes ended up on the doorway that still stood wide open and revealed the snowy night outside.

Open and now with nothing in your way.

For the first moment since seeing that thing, your mind became clear.

So much time had been wasted while you sat in shock, with fear taking over your brain and forcing you to make erratic actions. But if you wanted to possibly live, you needed to run.

It's attention is on the bed. It isn't looking at you. This is the only chance you'll get.

Run.

Run.

Run

You were on your feet, sprinting forward with a speed that you didn't think you were capable of. You felt the difference when your bare feet ran over the wooden flooring and when they met with the cold snow. It didn't matter. There was no time to think about how cold it was. No time to grab something heavier than your thin nightgown. No time to do anything except run.

It noticed when you ran.

From the corner of your eye you saw it stand suddenly, looking in your direction. It reached out and you saw it's mouth open.

So many sharp teeth. It would bite into you easily.

You sprinted out into the direction that you were sure led to the town, hoping with all of your might that you would lose it in the woods if it chose to follow. You didn't dare look behind you as you left the cabin, too afraid you would see it sprinting up behind you with all of those teeth on display.

A voice called out amidst the wind. A familiar one.

You didn't dare look back.

Less than a minute later and you were slowing, the adrenaline that had pushed you to run no match for the bitter cold of the night. Your fingers were freezing up and every step into the snow sent pain shooting up through your bare feet. But you could handle it; you just needed to last long enough to make it to the town.

If only the shadows of the trees made by the light of the full moon didn't confuse you, making you stumble as you tried to remember the correct way to Willsden. Things could look so different at night, and now you were looking about wildly as you simultaneously looked for an indication that you were on the correct path as well as for any sign of the monster.

You couldn't see it, hadn't seen it since the cabin. Perhaps you truly had lost it.

That thought gave you a bit of hope as you pushed yourself forward, reinvigorated to get yourself to safety.

But the cold won.

The next time you stumbled, you fell fully and landed with half of your face buried in the snow. Your fingers and toes ached and your limbs felt like ice, and none of them were responding to your commands to move. Even pulling your head out of the snow was too much effort for you and you were fighting to keep your eyes open. The energy was being sapped from you completely and you felt your consciousness beginning to fade.

All of that effort, and for what?

The wind that continued to blow about masked the sound of something coming towards you, and the last thing you were able to note was a large clawed hand that pulled you up from the ground.

…..

You were warm.

That was what your brain was able to register in those early moments of you waking up, and at first you didn't question it. After months of dealing with the cold that you had been doing your best to fight, it was nice to feel the heat that was running through every part of you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, you found that it felt good.

You let out a contented hum, and you tried to roll over to your side to get into a more comfortable position.

For some reason, you were unable to do so.

That was fine. You were still warm. You quietly willed yourself to stay like this, having no desire to leave this nice feeling. While you would need to wake up and face the cold reality of winter eventually, a few more minutes like this wouldn't hurt.

Though after a few moments, you found that you were starting to feel a bit too warm.

Being warm was fine, but when you were on the verge of being hot – that was more than a little strange given the current time of the year. And as much as you wanted to stay as you were, your brain was rousing you from slumber, and you slowly came to realize that something wasn't entirely right.

As you began to wake up, you found that the heat you were feeling was strongest at your core, and there was…. Something happening that was making you feel pleasure.

A firm, hot length that repeatedly dove into you, pushing in and out and the way it rubbed against your warm walls – the friction you felt – made you shudder. Something was pounding into your pussy, but you were enjoying it.

You still felt weak, but you attempted to lift your hips anyway, trying to get more of that friction so you could continue to feel good. You weren't anticipating the feeling of pressure on your clit as a result of that, and your mouth opened to let out a soft moan.

Your lips were then overtaken. Another pair of lips, far more rough and with stubble along the jaw that scratched at your skin closed over yours, and a tongue slipped past your teeth to caress against yours.

The groan that sounded wasn't from you. And when your lips were freed, you were able to hear grunts and soft mutterings that came from above you.

The voice was deep and you knew you had heard it before.

Consciousness was steadily returning to you, and you could feel now how your whole body moved as that length pounded into you, causing you to shift slightly on the mattress while the length inside of you would occasionally make jolts of pleasure to run through your body. There was also a noticeable level of soreness present in your pelvic region, and when your hips were shifted so they were situated slightly upwards, you felt something drip from your thighs and down your backside.

What is that? What's happening?

This isn't right

Your eyes snapped open and you finally gazed upon the scene you didn't even know you were part of.

You were in your cabin, on the floor next to the fireplace atop a pile of blankets. Why you weren't in the bed became clear as the bed frame that once held your mattress had been placed in front of the doorway to keep the cold out and your mattress was nowhere to be seen. But that was hardly important as you realized something else: you weren't alone.

Nobunaga was with you.

Nobunaga, who wasn't welcome, but had returned anyway.

Nobunaga, was currently on top of you and positioned between your legs.

Nobunaga, who was naked.

As were you.

And when he pushed his hips forward again, a gasp was forced from your throat in response to the friction caused by his cock dragging against your walls.

A quick glance at your pelvic region showed that his length was buried within you.

…. He was fucking you.

And based on the amount of sweat and cum that covered you both, he'd been going at it for some time now.

Nobunaga paused after realizing that you were awake, your eyes meeting his while he stared down at you, still breathing hard as he did so. Your breathing was just as harsh, you realized, and when you took another glance down at where you were connected, you were horrified at how swollen and sore your clit appeared to be. With all of the fluids and the other marks on your body that you could make out – what was wrong with your legs? – you didn't want to think about how many times he had used you for his own pleasure, or how many times he had played with you in your unconscious state to drag out unknowing reactions from you.

You began to tremble beneath him as you looked back up at him, tears filling up your eyes quickly. Surely he would stop and pull away once he saw that you were awake. Perhaps even look guilty at the fact that you had caught him while he was in the middle of assaulting you.

At the very least he should have stopped.

Instead he leaned down to take your lips in a kiss, and his thrusting started up again, though the pace at which he fucked into you had slowed.

You wanted to protest – to shove him off of you, but when his cock once again dragged along the wet walls of your cunt you were taken off guard, and instead you moaned while your body shuddered.

The blankets beneath you felt disgusting, as they were equally covered in a mixture of bodily fluids.

Nobunaga reached a hand down to turn your face towards him.

“Sorry,” he muttered between thrusts.

You opened your mouth, prepared to yell at him -

He shoved two of his fingers into your mouth, gagging you with his ring finger and middle finger as he kept you quiet so he could continue speaking uninterrupted.

“I know I should've waited for you to wake up. I really didn't plan on doing this while you were asleep.”

His eyes flitted down as he looked over your body, looking over the marks he had left on you while you had been asleep. You attempted to look back down as well, though you only got a brief glance before he used the fingers in your mouth to move your head back up.

“You were so cold by the time I brought you back, and that nightgown was soaked by the snow, so I thought it'd be better if I removed it.”

The nightgown…..

Right. You'd run out into the cold. Because of that thing that had entered your cabin. But whatever had entered was now nowhere to be seen.

Where was it? How had you escaped it? Why was Nobunaga back?

How had things gotten to this point?

Nobunaga continued, saying “I did for you what you did for me; I wrapped you up in a blanket to keep you warm. But I was worried that wouldn't be enough, so I decided I could help more if I held you.”

He slowed down, removing the hand he had on your body in favor of scratching at the back of his head, as though he was embarrassed. As if he was speaking of a slight slip up and not a brutal assault that had clearly lasted hours.

“I tried not to do anything more, but I couldn't help myself. So sorry about that.”

He couldn't be that sorry based on the smile you saw playing on his lips.

With his fingers acting as a gag, words were still beyond you, and you looked back to your body he was ravaging.

What was wrong with your legs?

The dark marks that littered your skin were numerous, but they didn't appear to be simple bruises. The shape wasn't right. Especially not with the way that several lines had erratic patterns that almost seemed as though they had dripped down your thighs.

With a great deal of effort, you pulled one of your legs up. And with the light of the fire, you saw clearer what what those marks were:

Blood from the cuts that littered your thighs.

Tears finally began to fall as you let out a high-pitched whine at the sight, your tongue hitting against Nobunaga's fingers as he kept you gagged.

“Shh, shh, shh.”

Nobunaga leaned in again as you started to cry, kissing you on the cheek as he said “I know, I know. It looks bad. But the cuts aren't deep. They stopped bleeding a while ago. They'll heal up in no time.”

That didn't make you feel any better, and the noise you made indicated that.

He sighed into your hair as he continued “I thought it'd be okay if I took you in my other form first, but after how much I cut you up and how much pain you looked like you were in, I stopped after the first round and waited until morning before I continued.”

Other form?

You didn't understand.

But he wouldn't explain it as he began to increase his pace as he moaned on top of you, concentrating as he plowed into your pussy yet again. Immediately you recognized what was coming and you tried to stop it.

Your efforts were so weak that he didn't even notice the way you attempted to push him off of you, or even how you pulled at the long locks of his hair in desperation. Nothing was stopping him, least of all you.

Nobunaga groaned as he stilled above you, leaving you to cringe as you felt his cum filling you up.

I don't want this

Finally, he removed the fingers that he had lodged in your mouth so he could lean down and take your lips in a kiss.

With no way of fighting him, you were forced to accept what he had done, what he was doing, and what he would no doubt continue to do to you.

All because you had come across an injured man in the forest.

He pulled away from the kiss but stayed close, and you saw veneration in his eyes as he gazed down at you lovingly.

“You're perfect,” he breathed, “I couldn't ask for a better wife.”

You whimpered in response, the tears continuing to fall down your cheeks.

Nobunaga leaned down over you, wiping your tears away before he kissed you again.

“I know,” he said, “I'm happy, too.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Blizzard

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Dark Donna

Word count: 4,808

Summary: You shouldn't have walked in the middle of a blizzard

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open, I'm waiting for yours!!! I love you all!!!

“Uh, oh...” You whispered as a cold current ran through your body. You knew it wasn't the best day for hiking, but you couldn't miss the opportunity that this snowy landscape offered you. You had already been to many places, but none like that strange village. The mystery that seemed to surround those villagers... As sullen and mysterious as the snowy landscape that surrounded them.

It was a perfect place to walk through the snow, if it weren't for the fact that a blizzard seemed to be coming.

“I should have listened to that old woman...” You sighed when the snow began to hurt your eyes. “Well, it would be better to turn around and go back to the… Oh, shit…”

You turned around, being completely sure that you had followed that path, the one that led directly to a beautiful waterfall that was dying to be captured by your camera.

You didn't want to admit it. No matter how hard you looked at the trees, you couldn't tell if you had passed by them or not.

The blizzard raged mercilessly, the wind buffeting your body as you made your way through the snow. And yes, it could be worse. It seemed there was no better time for your little adventure than a few hours before nightfall. Your determination to photograph a beautiful sunset in the mountains was going to be your downfall.

“Okay… Okay… (Y/N), you screwed it up,” you said while trying in vain to make a call on your cell phone. Useless. You had been without signal since you arrived in the village. You didn't know why you thought it would be different in the middle of that frozen wasteland.

The light was becoming less intense and your steps were increasingly erratic. You could be walking in circles and not even realize it.

The snow cut your face like blades. You didn't want to despair, it wasn't the first time you got lost, but certainly, you started to give up.

“Come on, come on...” You said to yourself, continuing to walk awkwardly. Noises similar to the howls of a wolf made you not want to stop. “No… I don’t… Want…To be… Your food…”

You walked a few more steps until the ground gave way under your feet. It was your end.

You slid down some rocks, hitting yourself several times in the process until the fluffy snow cushioned your fall.

“Oh...” You gasped, checking that you hadn't broken anything. “Shit, shit, shit…”

The darkness limited your field of vision, but you could hear the water from that waterfall. You clumsily stood up, brushing the snow off your clothes, preventing your body from freezing early.

“Well, that was close,” you murmured when you realized you were near to a cliff. When you looked up, you could make out something in the middle of that landscape.

It looked like a house, or rather, a mansion, you couldn't tell, the night was darkening. The snow continued to cut your face mercilessly and, although you couldn't see where you were, you thought that that building was your best option.

“Wow... Who lives here? It's impressive,” you sighed when you were close enough for the snow to stop being a hindrance to your vision. “Hello?” You asked out loud, opening the metal fence that delimited the property.

Nothing, the sound of the wind was the only thing that predominated in that place. It would be better to get a little closer.

“Brrr” You shook your body when the small roof protected you from the cold. It looked like an old, abandoned house, but you had no choice but to knock on the door. “Hello?! Anyone there?! Hello!?”

You called out quite loudly and yelled loud enough so that the wind didn't drown out your voice.

“Maybe there's no one here...” You said trembling, with your body freezing little by little.

Behind a window you could see a halo of light, similar to what fire makes when it reflects on glass. You were not alone. Someone lived in that house.

“Hey! Hey! Hello!? Please!” You shouted, hitting the door even harder. “I'm lost and I think, I think I'm going to freeze to death! Hello?!”

Nothing

You were about to give up, looking around for alternative shelter when an ominous creak reached your ears.

One of the old doors opened little by little, letting out the dim light from a candle. The person holding it made you gulp.

It looked like a woman, dressed entirely in black. The light of the candle danced on her face, or rather, on the black veil that covered it. But there was no time to study that woman. You were about to turn into an icicle.

“He, hello...” You stammered, noticing that woman's gaze on you. “Sorry to bothering but… I, I got lost in the mountains. I fell down a small ravine and… Well, the blizzard caught me and…”

For some reason, that almost ghostly presence gave you a certain feeling of discomfort.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat. The mysterious woman said nothing. You started to get a bit nervous. “I… I, I was wondering if…”

“Who are you? Stupid stranger!” A shrill voice made you take a step back. It had not come from the woman with the veil, but rather came from a strange and disturbing doll that she woman was holding with her other hand.

“What?” You asked confused. Maybe you were already freezing and starting to get delirious. “Please, please, let me take shelter from the storm, I... I think, I think I'm going to freeze.”

Doll and woman looked at each other in a disturbing scene. It was very strange, but you weren't ready to choose another option. The night was already closed and that was your only ticket to not freeze to death.

Luckily, after a few seconds of strange tension, the lady in black moved away from the door, giving a slight nod for you to enter.

“Oh, thank you, thank you very much,” you said, clasping your hands and quickly fleeing the cold.

The house was gloomy, dark, barely illuminated by a couple of candles on a table. It was a majestic house, which surely belonged to a majestic woman. When you finished studying your surroundings, you looked at the lady, who closed the door with a bang that disturbed the strange tranquility of that place.

“Oh, is that a ventriloquist doll?” You asked curiously, looking at that strange puppet. The lady didn't seem to want to move, you could only see that she was breathing like any mortal. That was a good sign, you supposed.

“My name is Angie, you stupid meddler,” the doll protested, making a fuss over her owner. You laughed, thinking this was some kind of joke from that strange woman.

“Hey, you're very good...” You said amused, cautiously approaching the doll. “Hello, Angie, I'm (Y/N)” you said in a childish voice, shaking the puppet's hand, a hand that it immediately moved away.

“But what are you doing, stupid?” The doll protested, making its owner to look at it.

Well, at least you weren't freezing to death, and that you weren't going to get bored.

“I... I appreciate you letting me in, um... Can you tell me your name?” You asked after a few more moments of tense silence.

There was no response, the lady simply walked past you while that puppet turned its head to keep looking at you.

“Donna,” a hoarse voice murmured, this time, coming from the mourning lady. You sighed in relief knowing that you weren't going to have to communicate with that doll.

“Donna, oh, okay, what, it’s a pretty name,” you said nervously, following closely the lady, who opened the door into the house, towards a living room that had a lit fireplace.

“Oh, fire...” You said, eager for any source of heat, approaching that fireplace and extending your arms towards it, letting the heat soothe your almost blue hands. “Wow, I thought my hands were going to freeze.”

“I don't like her, Donna...” You heard the doll whisper, or, well, you thought it was the doll. You couldn't help but frown.

“Leave her be, Angie. She seems harmless,” the lady murmured, leaving the doll on an armchair.

What kind of woman was that? Did she talk to herself? Would it have been better to freeze?

“Excuse me, did you say something?” You asked confused.

 That woman, Donna turned to you and shook her head, leaving the candle along with others on a table.

“Okay... I, I'll leave right away, as soon as the storm stops,” you said, starting to feel too trapped in those rickety walls. Donna nodded.

“I don't think it’s going to stop soon,” she whispered, approaching the fireplace and removing a pot of boiling water from it.

“I won't be a bother, I promise,” you said, stopping shivering from the cold and enjoying the pleasant warmth of the fire.

“Of course you won’t be!” A shrill voice, coming from the armchair where the doll rested shouted. It couldn't have been Angie, no way.

“Angie...” The lady sighed, approaching the chair. “Behave”.

You swallowed again, not knowing if the heat of the fire was enough to make you want to stay.

“Excuse her, she doesn't like strangers,” the woman told you in a soft but hoarse tone, as if she wasn't used to talking to anyone. Living in a place like this, it didn't seem strange to you. “Sit down.”

You obeyed without saying anything, going towards the chair she had indicated and exploring that house with your eyes.

“Oh, thank you,” you said, taking off your backpack.

“Tea?” She offered you, with a voice that betrayed a certain nervousness. Although she seemed kind, something gave you a bad feeling.

“Oh, of course, if it's hot...” You said, hiding the fear you started to feel.

“Of course it's hot,” she responded sharply, making you shift in your chair. “Tea has to be hot.”

“Yes, yes, of course...” You murmured, bowing your head in an apologetic gesture, gratefully taking the cup she offered you.

The lady in black sat in front of you, watching you. You didn't know what she was looking for in your gaze exactly, but the feeling of not being able to see her face was starting to make you uncomfortable.

“I... Well...” You said nervous because of the silence, because of the sound of the wind being the protagonist in that dark room. “Your house is impressive, Donna.”

“Thank you,” she responded, nodding pleased at the compliment.

“It must be quite calm. To live here, I mean,” you commented curiously, bringing up the most absurd topic of conversation you could think of.

“I like the tranquility,” Donna stated, drinking from her cup, slightly moving the veil away from her face. You had to make a superhuman effort not to look.

“I see... It's, it's all quite dark.”

“There is no electric power. The storm broke it” the woman explained, to which you nodded. Thank goodness, you thought you had entered the tunnel of horror.

“Oh, wow,” you said, feigning empathy. You couldn't help but feel very curious about this woman, but also a bit afraid of her.

“I'm sure you're hungry. I can't offer you anything to eat. The elevator that goes to the kitchen doesn't work,” she said passively, as if your presence was not pleasant for her, but nevertheless, trying to sound… Kind.

“Do you have an elevator in your house? Wow, what a luxury,” you said amused, in a pathetic attempt at joking.

“My parents built it like that,” Donna explained, getting nervous for some reason you didn't know.

“Oh, sure... Where are they?” You asked with good intentions.

“They're dead,” Donna said, slamming the cup on the table hard, making you panic.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... Oh, well,” you said embarrassed. You couldn't have a worse day. “I better keep quiet.”

“Yeah, shut up!” Angie screamed.

When you looked at the couch, the doll was still as limp as it seemed.

“Angie...” Donna whispered, with a severe, reprimanding tone. Time to change the subject. You didn't want to think that the doll had spoken for itself.

“I have energetic bars in my backpack. They're not a big deal, but at least it's something... Do you want one?” You asked, using your well-known people skills, that ability of yours to talk to anyone, no matter how strange.

“Energetic what?” She asked, curious.

You took two out of your backpack and offered her one, which she examined carefully.

“Yes, well... It's like eating newspaper but on the label it says that they are apple flavour...”  You said amused, devouring yours.

She hesitated, but she tried out of curiosity.

“The one who made this has not tasted an apple in his life,” the lady said disgusted, but with a funny tone. “But thank you… (Y/N)?”

“Oh yeah, (Y/N), that’s my name,” you said, covering your filled mouth with your hand. “And don't thank me, thank you for let me in.”

“Normally I would let you freeze to death, but I was in a good mood today,” she said passively. You laughed, thinking it was a joke, although it definitely didn't sound like one. You didn't want to ask if it was a joke either, you were a bit scared.

“Well...” You murmured, after a few minutes of horrible silence. “How's that storm going?” You asked, looking towards one of the windows. You wanted to think that you could get out of there, that the blizzard had subsided, but it wasn't true.

“You can stay the night if you want,” Donna offered, getting up from her chair.

“No, it's not necessary,” you said, perhaps too hastily. “I don't want to abuse your kindness.”

“Well, if you prefer to freeze to death...” She said with a low, almost threatening tone.

You looked at the window again. The blizzard seemed unbeatable, tireless. That house, that woman. It was all disturbing, but it was better than freezing to death.

“I... I... It's okay,” you said, sighing defeated. “The truth is that I’m tired.”

“Follow me,” she said dryly, picking up the candle from the table again.

You obeyed, putting the backpack on your shoulder.

Walking slowly, you reached the hall again and began to climb the stairs, trying not to lose the light of the candle that Donna was carrying.

As you went up, a portrait of a woman caught your attention. She was beautiful, so beautiful. So much for an irreverent and shameless girl like you.

“Wow, she is... Don't tell me that you’re that beautiful woman,”  you said jokingly, but at the same time, seriously.

Donna paused, slowly turning her head to look at you. She didn't respond, she continued walking.

You better shut up, (Y/N)

“Here. You can stay here,” she said dryly, as if she were annoyed by something. Had that comment offended her? She must have been flattered by your compliment.

“Thank you, Donna,” you sighed, leaving the backpack on the bed in that small room.

“Good night,” she said, lighting a candle with hers and disappearing like a ghost.

“Good...” You said, before the door closed with a loud bang. “…Night…”

You sighed and shrugged, digging through your backpack, locating your diary. Just a few things that worth writing in that small notebook happened in your adventures but this was one of them.

“Who are you?” You asked the quick sketch you made of the lady and her doll. “The truth is that I am curious…”

Even though your journey through the mountains had left you completely exhausted, you couldn't sleep a wink. The sound of the storm shook the window panes and the surrounding trees cast dark shadows on the wall.

“There were no houses in the village... I had to find the one with the cursed doll,” you huffed, covering yourself with the sheets and squeezing your eyes tightly.

You immediately regretted eating that stupid energetic bar. Your mouth was crying out for some water. You couldn't sleep with that infernal thirst. You had two options: let your throat go dry, or get up.

“Okay... Tunnel of horror, here I come,” you whispered, making the most rational decision.

You took the small candle that Donna lit and opened the door as discreetly as possible. It was in vain, as an ominous creak gave you away.

“Water... Water...” You murmured, illuminating the dark hallway.

Luckily, there was a bathroom right in front of the room.

“That's better,” you said satisfied, having quenched your thirst.

The most logical and normal thing would have been to return to your room, but of course, you were not a normal person, much a less logical one.

Curious, you looked over the railing, hoping, you didn't know what, to see something. The small glow of the fireplace could be distinguished in the distance. Slowly, you approached the stairs.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Slowly, extinguishing the candle, you went down a couple of steps, stopping at that portrait.

“Surely if I had you in front of me right now I would already be trying to flirt with you...” You whispered seductively. “And if that doll wasn't there...” You said later, making a disgusted face at the puppet.

Without taking your eyes off the portrait, you continued down until you reached the hall again. There, you walked slowly to the door, peeking out.

Curiosity killed the... Yes, shut up now, brain

Nothing, there were no signs of life in the room. That doll wasn't even there. Well, you had free rein to explore, or so you thought.

As soon as you entered the room, you froze in place.

The fire illuminated a figure curled up on a sofa. Donna, without a doubt.

She seemed asleep and next to her, that inert puppet.

Stay away. That's what the rational side of your mind told you. Did it have to be repeated that you were not rational?

You took one step, then another, until you were close enough.

“Oh, my God,” you sighed, putting your hand over your mouth to avoid being discovered. The black veil had disappeared. That woman's face was beautiful, but a huge scar covered part of it. She was the lady in the portrait and that's why she covered herself.

That didn't make her seem any less beautiful to you. What now? Are you going to flirt with her?

The woman was sleeping peacefully with a book in her hand. You had no intention of bothering her, nor of continuing to explore. Running back to the bed to draw her beauty was your priority.

“Donna, Donna! The stranger, the stranger!” The doll screeched, causing you to fall to the ground in fright. There was no longer any doubt. The doll had a life of its own.

Of course, the lady woke up scared, looking for the source of the scandal.

“What are you doing?” Donna asked when she noticed your presence. Her single eye hardened, glowing with rage.

“No, nothing...” You said, retreating, crawling on the floor.

“She's mean, Donna! She was spying on you!” Angie accused you, which made you shake even more.

“What? I don't... why is it alive?” You stammered, overwhelmed by all those sudden emotions.

“I shouldn't have let you in,” the woman hissed, walking towards you, with the most dangerous look you've ever seen, with that beauty overshadowed by rage.

“Wait, wait...” You said, crawling on the floor.  “I didn't mean to bother you, What is this doll?”

“Shut up,” the woman said, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“Sorry, sorry... Don't kill me,” you begged pathetically, covering your face with your hands. “It wasn't my intention. Besides, I don't know why you even cover yourself. You are beautiful.”

You were telling the truth, but it clearly sounded like a shabby attempt to get that woman to take pity on you.

“Don't think you're going to get away by lying to me, (Y/N)...” Donna threatened, getting closer and closer to you.

“Wa, wait, wait. I'm not lying, really. You are, you are beautiful. I mean... If you didn't want to kill me I would be trying to flirt with you,” you said nervously, trying to stand up.

She stopped, looking at you with a frown.

“Are you serious?” She asked confused, blinking several times.

“Yes, yes... You're really hot, Donna,” you said, squeezing your eyes, waiting for your end.

“You're very vulgar,” she sighed, extending a hand toward you.

Had it worked? Had telling the truth done any good?

“Oh...” You sighed, taking her hand and standing up. “I… I, I'm sorry.”

“Don't you know that it is rude to spy on others?” She told you with a calmer tone.

“I guess I'm curious, that's all,” you said, relaxing your breathing. Her gaze explored your body up and down.

She nodded, looking at you in a different way, with the shadow of a smile decorating her face.

“Hey, about the doll...” You said whispering, looking out of the corner of your eye at the puppet, which, to your surprise, stood up on its own.

“Do you really think I'm beautiful?” Donna asked, with a childish smile on her face, as if you had said something strange.

“Yes,” you said, nodding, turning red with embarrassment. You couldn't deny that you were attracted to her, even if she seemed dangerous.

“You are also very beautiful, (Y/N)” she whispered, approaching, nervously playing with her hands.

“Give each other a kiss and shut up now” the doll mocked, making you look away at it.

“Oh, the doll did it again... Why is it moving?” You asked nervously, disturbed by what you were seeing. You couldn't be dreaming. Your heart was beating very fast.

“Would you like to kiss me?” Donna asked, making you almost break your neck as you looked at her, eyes wide.

“I... Um, what?” You asked confused, with a knot in your stomach, with your subconscious screaming at you to do it.

“I would like to kiss you…”

What was wrong with that woman? She wanted to kill you just a minute ago.

You were an adventurous girl and you boasted about the girls you met during your travels. Donna was the strangest of them all, but also the most beautiful.

“Well, why not?” You said, shrugging, letting yourself be carried away by her figure, by her beauty in the light of the fireplace.

You approached slowly, until you placed your lips on hers. She sighed contentedly, unable to hide a smile as she kissed you slowly, bringing her hands to your waist.

It wasn't a long kiss, but it was an intense one, one that made you forget for a moment where you were and the strange things you had experienced.

“Surely you have met many girls on your travels...” She murmured, kissing you slowly again, exploring your lips with curiosity. You were confused, but you couldn't deny that you were enjoying it.

 It wasn't how you intended to end the night.

“Yes, but...None like you...” you whispered, laughing at that situation. You weren't planning on having an affair with a woman who lived with a living doll. You began to be grateful for being lost in the blizzard.

“You can be sure of that, (Y/N)” she said amused, but with a dark tone, without stopping kissing you, caressing your body, raising the temperature of that house. “My bedroom is downstairs... But the elevator doesn't work,” Donna said, biting her lip. “Do you think that small bed of yours...?”

You, eager to get to know this woman more deeply, nodded. Your unbridled lust had made you forget everything that had happened. Someday it will take its toll on you. Maybe before you ç thought.

“The small bed will do,” you murmured, biting her earlobe. Her lavender scent was intoxicating, as were the sounds she made when you kissed her neck.

Donna pulled away from you, taking your hand eagerly, with desire, dragging you towards the stairs.

It was a night... Too good. That woman was eager, almost insatiable. You couldn't tell how long you were in that bed, naked, giving up to your passion. You moaned, she moaned. What seemed like a terrifying night turned into a series of moans, kisses, caresses… It became something unexpected and electrifying, something you didn't want to forget.

You opened your eyes as the morning light came through your window. Your whole body hurt. Because of the blizzard, and because of the night you had spent with that woman. Woman who, by the way, was not sleeping next to you, was no longer hugging you like the night before.

“Mmm, the doll lady...” You moaned, letting yourself fall on the mattress, confirming that you didn't dream of making love to her. The whole bed smelled like lavender. “Well, it seems that there is no longer a storm.”

You dressed quickly, shivering from the cold, but with your body still warm from passion.

“Good morning,” you said humming, peeking out the door that led to the living room. There she was, in her black dress, with her face uncovered, preparing a breakfast worthy of any buffet.

“Hello, tesoro, how did you sleep?” She asked kindly, walking over and kissing you quickly. You smiled.

“Not enough time...” you purred in her ear, causing her to giggle shyly.

“You scandalous...” the Angie doll said with a singing voice.

“Fuck! I had forgotten,” you said scared, running a hand over the back of your neck. “Em, Donna… What's wrong with that doll? Why is it alive?”

“Come on, come on, tesoro, calm down,” she said, taking you by the hand to the table and pushing you to sit down. She did the same in front of you.

“Seriously, why is it moving?” You asked, grabbing a croissant from a tray.

“I'll tell you another time...” the lady said, ignoring your curiosity for the umpteenth time.

“Mmm, you better hurry up, tomorrow I'm traveling to Poland” you commented, taking a sip of that delicious coffee that she had prepared for you.

“Poland?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, smiling but observing the confused gesture of the lady in black. “It's the end of my route. Afterwards, I will return home.”

“I thought you'd stay a bit longer...” she said, her eyes shining, as if she were pleading.

You feigned indifference and sighed.

“Well, well... Maybe I'll stay a few more days... If that's okay with you, of course...” You said amused, winking at her.

“I would love to,” Donna whispered, ending the conversation.

After filling yourself with that breakfast, you decided it was time to leave. You would have stayed longer, but at least you had to return to the hotel to extend your stay. The truth is that you wanted to know more about her, spend more time with her.

“Then I go down the elevator, follow the bridge... And I arrive at the village...” You said, repeating her instructions at the door of the house.

“That's it, tesoro... Promise me you'll see me again,” she said, hanging on your neck and kissing you quickly.

“Sure, we could have a lunch together if you want.”

You said goodbye with another kiss and started on your way back. The path was sinister, but at least there was no loss and the day seemed clear.

You got into that strange elevator and pressed the button. You frowned when you realized something was wrong. You had neither gone down nor gone up. You had felt movement, but you were in the same place.

“What the…?” You asked to yourself, studying the landscape with your eyes. No, you hadn't moved, the house was still at the end of the road. You started to shake. You pressed the button again and again. You went up the elevator again and again. Nothing, the same landscape.

You left the cabin when you had apparently managed to move around. Some red doors remained open.

“I definitely need that nap,” you said, scratching the back of your neck and pushing one of the doors.

You opened your eyes scared.

In front of you there was no forest, no snowy landscape. In front of you was the hall of that house, you were inside that house again.

“What?” You asked, trying to get out the door. It was impossible. Every time you left, you came back in. “What?”

“I'm sorry, (Y/N)” a hoarse voice startled you. The lady in black appeared out of nowhere. The black veil covered her face again.

“Donna? What's going on?” You asked scared, grabbing her black dress, mad. She didn't move. A childish laugh was filling the house. The doll laughed amused, and you suspected laughing at you.

“I like you, (Y/N). I can't let you leave.”

[themareverine]

MASTERLIST

➢ LOGAN HOWLETT/WOLVERINE

彡 ── SERIES

▹ MARE & THE WOLVERINE - AUOrigins!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

SUMMARY: The Northern Territories were the last place Mare McAffery ever imagined herself, much less a prize fighting bar with characters the likes of the one they call the Wolverine. A logging community and living out of a Motel 6—it wasn’t exactly Shakespearean. But sometimes, survival calls for a tooth and nail fight—even for a preacher’s daughter.

▹ UNTIL WE FALL - Worst!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

SUMMARY: DP&W AU. It's been God knows how many years after Logan's death in North Dakota—and this wouldn't be much of a story without a shiny new villain with a hot new plan, or someone to save the world. Well, maybe two someones. Ok, you win, three. But first, you have track down that said someone—the Wolverine. And who better to do that than the girl who found him the first time? Logan/OC

彡 ── ONESHOTS

▹ WILD MAN - Logan Howlett x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: Blizzards and pane glass windows—typical for a Thursday night at Laughlin City's favorite haunt. Until the Wolverine walks in, and hell hath no fury like a man ravaged by jealousy.

▹ BED OF BONES - The Long Night!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: When he promised her something different, she didn't think it would be this. Alaskan stars, running to survive, trying to feel. Anonymous faces in a forgotten frontier. It isn't much, it's barely living—but really all she needs to live is him.

▹ DESIGNATED DRIVER - oldman!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: "Hey driver!" Tits, yeah—counts two of 'em. What Logan can't quite shake isn't the drunk-off-her ass's $20,000 tit job, or even the way his passengers embarrass themselves with shameless come-ons, stupid amounts of money. something else, entirely—a pretty little thing all done up in makeup and curls, wishing she were anywhere but third-wheeling a drunk hen party. "Sorry about my friend, she's—" "Didn't even notice her, honey."

彡 ── DRABBLES SERIES

▹ A KING & HIS CASTLE ▹ - oldman!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: Breadwinner. Bring-Home-the-Bacon. He's heard it all before, but it's never hit home. Until her. Coming home to her is the only thing to live for, the only thing keeping the heart behind his ribs spinning. ➢ IN YOU, MY FORTRESS ➢ MORE THAN ROCKET SCIENCE

彡 ── DRABBLES

▹ Garfield Morning Coffee - Logan Howlett x fem!OC ▹ He’s Not You - Logan Howlett x fem!OC ▹ Subaru, It's You - worst!Logan x fem!OC

➢ KATE & LEOPOLD

彡 ── SERIES

▹ ON GLASS WE WALK - Leopold x fem!OC

SUMMARY: Marketing copywriter by day, aspiring Shakespeare by night, she’s been crafting Prince Charmings and glass slippers all her life. Never once suspecting he could actually exist, bone to bone. In New York—her best-friend-in-law’s apartment complex. The stuff of Cinderella, Grimm—but her? “Oh. My. Lanta.” “Who, pray tell, is ‘Lanta?’”

➢ DETECTIVE ERIC RINGER (HALIFAX)

彡 ── DRABBLES

©️ themareverine 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated. layout idea inspired by @ ovaryracted

[cu7ie]

the rubdown. | freeloader!toji

cw ☆⌒(>。<) toji being genuinely unhelpful unless it is for his own gain. he's a pervert, and a mooch. reader is wearing a bikini, has tits and cooch, but no explicit use of she/her or feminine prns. suggestive material. reader putting up with a parasite. sexual references and thoughts courtesy of toji. mentions of sex. an: hi! i wrote something for the @bastardblvd collab! enjoy. ☆⌒(≧▽​° )

It's fucking beaming out.

So hot that sweat dries on his temples as soon as it forms, and Toji is a sweaty, sticky mess - and fuck, he can't stand the beach. 

But you wanted to 'enjoy summer', and even though Toji thinks it better spent with your air conditioner and fan, getting to see you half-naked is nice too. You said you'd bring drinks, and the snacks, and the sunscreen, and although you didn't tell him to bring anything - (because you knew he wouldn't, anyway,) - he mentioned bringing some water guns, if only to get you to hop up on the balls of your feet like you usually do.

He doesn't have shit on him but skin, sweat, towel folded under his arm, swim shorts clinging loosely to his hips, a fat ass and a big dick. Oh, he can only carry so much.

The sun (perhaps serving as his retribution,) blazes higher in the sky.

The sound of his flip flops on concrete is really starting to eat into him, the sun edging his peripheral pissing him the fuck off. Oh well. You’re the one with the sunglasses anyway. You always have everything. And Toji might have the sense to feel shame if you were any less gracious with him than you are now.

Lord knows why you’re so fond of a freeloader. A rude one too. He’s thinking so hard he almost stumbles right past you. “Hello-o-o! Over here!” He flicks his head over sharply, and there you are.

Toji couldn't get you to cover up in a blizzard - nevermind if there's an occasion for it. Imagine his surprise then, when he struts up thinking he's hot shit, and there you are, big sunhat, skin and all smiles.

If you wouldn't have popped him in the mouth for it, he'd say you look like a slut. (So he thinks about it instead.)

Toji hopes you got your bikini at a discount, because it's barely there. Two lucky triangles pin up your pretty tits, skimp lines of cloth tied with cute little bows and easy enough to undo, he thinks. One pull and it all spills out.

You've got bikini bottoms with the thin string that hug onto your hips just so that your chub puffs and bulges cutely around it. Your little swim shorts are just a shitty self censor, cause this isn't a nude beach and he's sure that thong is cuddling with your clit. 

"Toji?" You blink at him, and now that he's paying attention, you're rolling along a small cooler, a bag folded under your opposite arm. "You good?" 

"Yeah." You look good. So much so his mouth waters and he barely saves himself from drooling in front of you. He’s eyeing you up like a dessert tray, trying some of this, some of that. How’d your nipple taste in his mouth, lightly damp with your sweat, laid out bare on the beach. Your pussy in his face, your tasty slick dripping down his lip and chin…

He stiffens his back, steels his jaw and glowers at you like he's got a problem and it's somehow your fault. “Let's go." He brushes past you. Doesn’t even offer to take the cooler, kicking up sand as he goes.

"Oh, okay.” The cooler makes a noise as it rolls, though it’s mostly muffled by sand. “Did you bring the water guns?" The absence of any bag in his presence might have alerted you to the fact that no, he didn't, and the sound of cooler rolling is muffled as you two trek onto the sand. "Didn't bring shit but me."

You visibly deflate. "Oh. Okay." And trod a little ways behind him still, your amiable presence soured for a moment as you continued walking, silence filtering in between the pull of the ocean and whipping of wind.

"C'mon, you don't gotta be a baby about it." He taunts, flicking up your sunhat enough it nearly whips away. "But I didn't say anything!" You’re kicking up sand, stomping now, making faces like he can even see you, like he has a reason to care. It’s just you. “I’m getting real tired of you y’know - always putting words in my mouth…” Putting other things in your mouth, too.

"N I’m a little tired of bringing all the stuff! I don't know why I even let you drink the drinks that I paid for …" Yeah, it's truly the eighth world wonder. "And the one thing you promised-" Promise is a strong word. "Hey, you got that in print, sweetcheeks?” He pokes into his ear. “Cause I can’t seem to recall…”

You’re swinging, clapping your sunhat against his shoulder, scowling. “Don’t piss me off, Toji. The sun’s already doing too much.”

The beach is sparsely populated, umbrellas dotting the sand a little ways away in every direction. Toji grabs your wrists and tugs you still, nearly making you trip over your feet as you come to find yourself in the middle of the beach. “Here,” He says, and he starts pulling the chair you were carrying out of your arms - setting it up and claiming it as his own, folding his towel over the back of it. You roll your eyes. “You could help, you know.” He waves his hand, regarding you with your hands on your hips and bag still folded under arm. “You look like you got it all covered.” He grins, self-satisfied and smug. “Please, don’t let me distract ya’.”

The ass he is - just sits there - pops open the cooler to take out a beer, but sits otherwise, cracking it open and wearing your hat atop his head and shades from your bag.  You don’t know where he’s looking, appearing impassive as he takes a sip. Another. A brief pause.

You situate your blankets on the sand, rolling the cooler over a corner to prevent them from being flapped away in the wind.

While you’re busy doing that, Toji’s getting in a nice gander. At the dip in your waist and each roll of fat, the backs of your thighs as you bend over and adjust the blanket again, the dip of your bikini into your ass as you kneel down to affix the umbrella in the sand. The shades kind of fuck up the view, so he has to ensure you’re turned away so ya don’t catch him staring. (Although, it is quite hard to miss the feeling of eyes poking at you. When you turn to eye him up, he’s better than you thought at playing dumb.) 

Just before you lay down, you (finally) shimmy out of those sad excuse for shorts. They’re so tight on you they threaten to drag down your bikini bottoms, but you’re not so forgetful that you moon him and a bunch of other (lucky) strangers. It’s slow, methodical, and he really shouldn’t be looking so hard as they slide down your thighs and drop to your ankles. Using your foot, you flick the article aside, aiming for your bag but missing by a margin.

You’re hot and sweaty and annoyed. He sips his cool drink and watches you crawl onto your blanket on all fours, paying too much attention to the worry your ass wiggles and shakes as you clap sand off your feet and get comfortable atop the thin sheet.

It’s silent for a few moments longer. You don’t seem to want to talk to him much. Expected honestly - so he keeps on sipping his beer, looking over every now and then to see if your demeanor changed any. 

Nah. Your cutesy pout is edging on scowl, the sun in your eyes not doing much to soften you up. “Hey asshole.” He grunts questioningly. “Hat. Give it to me.” “Since when did we start demanding shit?” He snorts. You squint, unamused. “The hat. Gimme.” He tosses it over and you put it back on, finally able to look around proper now that the sun isn’t wrestling your brow. You lean over into your bag and fumble for the bottle of sunscreen. “What’s that?” Man’s is so fucking nosy.

“Sunscreen.” The top opens with a resounding pop, at home amongst the sound of the pull of the tide and the occasional seagull screech. You squirt a glob onto your hand, ready to start rubbing it in when Toji stops you. “What?” “Lemme help you with that.” The way he runs his tongue over his lip makes your heart pound, but you ignore it for the time being. He’s already scooping the screen out of your hands. “You’ll be mad as hell when your tan comes out patchy. You just need a good rubdown sweetheart, and don’t worry - Toji’s gonna give you exactly what you need.”

“Oh oh oh, so now you wanna help? I thought I ‘had it covered’?” You purse your lips and Toji makes an ugly face at you. “You want a patchy tan? Who else is ‘sposed to get your back?”

“But that’s my leg Toji,” His rough palm smooths across your calf, not so discreetly crawling up your knee and palming up your thigh. “I coulda done that.” 

“Well it’s just your turn to relax, then.” Toji grits his teeth when you smile up at him so smarmy, having laid flat on your back at this point. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun feeling me up you old coot.” His fingers dig into the meat of your thigh at your jest, making heat rise to your face unbidden. “And you let this old coot put his balls in your mouth,” Toji rolls his eyes, his grin grimier than ever. “Crazy.” “Toji!” You snap, irritated all the sudden. He can never let you win, can he? “The sunscreen.” 

“Don’t worry. I didn’t forget.” His arms lift your legs with ease, starting low near your ass and making his way to the tips of your toes, massaging every little patch of your skin with the utmost care. His hands aren’t a roughness you’re unfamiliar with, just as comforting and soothing as the cool sunscreen. Then he’s at your tummy, massaging in circles near your ribs, feeling up your sides, applying more to his hands, rubbing again. 

It’s … nice. The one thing Toji’s done in a while you’ve had no complaints about. He lingers sometimes, like when he was getting the insides of your thigh and near your hip, a little too fixated on the reveal of the bikini and warmth of your pussy. Eventually he backed off. Opted to bide his time instead, working his way all the way up towards your collarbones and cute face.

Which he offers to massage, too.

“I think I can do my face myself…” Toji clicks his tongue. “Just lemme do it.” 

You don’t really argue with it. He holds your delicate face in his big hands, dwarvish in comparison. He’s even gentler then, hardly tugging or pushing, but very much thorough.

He gets you on your stomach easily after that. Good thing you don’t have eyes on the back of your head - cause he’s feeling of the impish sort, spreading more sunscreen across his hands before kneading it into your back. He’s way too good at this.

It’s a little embarrassing how easy he’s got you. But the intimacy of moments like this are absolutely unmatched. You moan and sigh under his skilled hands, and forget for a moment how you’d regretted asking him along not even ten minutes earlier.

He starts at your shoulder blades, then goes down, down to the small of your back, finger testing the waters by plucking gently at the strings on your bikini. You’ve relaxed enough under his ministrations that you don’t notice his hands swiftly undoing the knot on the bra top, massaging in more sunscreen where his hands had ghosted over earlier. He’s panting a little. It actually is hot as fuck and no beer to drink feels like a death sentence, but he sticks it out til he gets to your bikini bottoms.

He sucks in a deep breath, and in one smooth motion, tugs the bottoms down. There’s no hitting or yelling or pouting or whining. The uninterrupted sounds of the beach, the two cutest cheeks he’s ever seen…

This beach day is turning out to be well within his favor. 

[kaynanarie]

JourneyTober! Day 24 - Brotherhood (Wind)

            Out of all the places they had traveled so far, the New West was proving to be the most hostile. Vengeful yaoguai, frozen undead, lightning dragons, and a demon prison had already attempted to bar their way through Little Lei Yin Temple. Being so high up in the mountains, the bitter cold and constant snowfall made travel slow and tedious.

            Along the way, they gained a new companion; the boar demon, Zhu Bajie, who claimed to be a sworn brother of Sun Wukong himself. He promised to help in their journey, even referring to Monkey as ‘Nephew’, before leading them away from the cymbals he was freed from.

            And while the new trio made steady progress during the day, the nights were unbearable.

            A blizzard had encompassed the temple, forcing Monkey, Jen, and Bajie to hunker down in one of the abandoned huts near Bitter Lake. The cracks in the dilapidated structure did little to hold the heat in and even less to keep the cold out. Howling winds whipped the snow into blinding waves, burying the house in deep drifts. Not even the crackling fire could provide enough warmth to stave off the creeping chill.

            Jen huddled as close to the flames as she could without burning herself. The cold felt bone deep, numbing her from the inside out. Her red face and trembling fingers absorbed what little heat the fire provided but never truly felt thawed. While her demon companions had the advantage of fur, they weren’t fairing much better.

            Monkey kept blowing in his hands and cupping them over his freezing ears, his fur fluffed up to conserve body heat. On the other side of the tiny hut, Bajie was keeping himself busy; boiling water for tea, sorting ingredients for dinner, tending the fire with the limited wood they could gather. Even as the hour grew late, the comfort of sleep was blown away with the storm.

            “We need to find more wood,” Bajie spoke after a while, watching the fire slowly shrink. He fed the last bundle of branches to the flames before pointing at Jen. “You won’t last much longer at this rate.”

            Monkey perked up from his light doze, dark eyes scanning the human in concern. She was pale and shivering, hugging her knees close. The dying fire was doing her no favors and without it, her condition would only worsen.

            “I’m fine,” Jen said, white breath puffing through her chattering teeth.

            Bajie snorted in disbelief. “You’re about two shades off from turning blue. I know how fragile humans are and I don’t plan to wake up next to an icicle.” He grabbed his tattered blanket and wrapped it around himself as a makeshift cloak. “Just try not to freeze while I’m gone, okay?”

            He cracked open the door and slipped out, a blast of snowflakes and icy wind left in his wake. Jen turned back to the fire, watching the flickering glow with tired eyes. She was startled by Monkey appearing at her side, draping something over her shaking shoulders. The familiar black and orange stripes caught her eye instant. It was the tiger pelt Monkey usually wore around his waist, the fur much softer and heavier than Jen would have guessed. Already, the chill started to fade under its cover.

            Jen smiled, Monkey’s face flushing pink at the sight. “Thanks.”

            Instead of an answer or even an acknowledging nod, Monkey wrapped his arms around Jen and pulled her close. Her head was tucked under his chin and his tail curled around her middle, sheltering her in a warm embrace. Too comfortable to protest, Jen leaned into him, enjoying the shared body heat as the wind outside calmed and the storm finally began to disperse.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------(Another switched out prompt. Thanks for reading!)

[heliopauseentertainments]

Volatile Mixtures

Part of MegOp Week 2024 Prompt - Day 5: Heat/Scars

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Megatron & Optimus Prime

Characters: Megatron, Optimus Prime

Warnings: Ambiguous Relationships, Vignette, Silly, Tomfoolery, Minor Injuries, Accidental Arson

Summary: In which Optimus tries to rescue Megatron and himself from a blizzard.

Crossposting: AO3 | Dreamwidth

Fic under cut. See AO3 for complete notes

Optimus let the heavy door to the hangar slam shut behind him, blocking out the worst of the howl of the blizzard outside. Collected snow fell from his armor and onto the dusty, concrete floor.

It was a lucky thing he had happened upon this abandoned human military installation when he had.

Megatron’s unconscious body on his shoulder seemed to weigh far more now than when he was awake to kick and scream about it.

Their kind were far less vulnerable to most changes in temperature than organics with their comparatively fragile internal chemistries, but extremes could kill Cybertronians just the same, especially when water was involved.

The arid polar climate of Iacon was nothing; no special protections were required to stroll the streets whether under the midnight sun or the noontime moon, but Earth… Earth was notoriously damp. Water with the right minerals could corrode or melt into fragile seams and refreeze. Otherwise tolerable or even comfortable temperatures were made dangerous by the addition of such a simple chemical.

It was dark inside the hangar; the walls effectively blocked the what little sunlight penetrated the blizzard. They didn’t, however, block the roar of the wind nor would they completely insulate the new temporary squatters from the cold.

But some shelter was more than no shelter.

And, despite the advice that Optimus knew he would have been given by some of his trusted friends and soldiers, he couldn’t just leave Megatron outside, injured and exposed to the elements. Especially because the injury had been his fault.

The wasn’t the Autobot way to abandon someone in need. Even an enemy was worth saving. Unfortunately, Megatron wouldn’t have said the same, he was sure, if their positions were reversed. Though, Megatron acting contrary to his own words wasn’t… unknown. Perhaps….

War philosophy aside, Optimus was still left with the unenviable task of finding a way to get both him and his unconscious erstwhile companion warm.

Or warmer, anyway.

Currently the only source of warmth was whatever radiated off of Megatron’s unconscious frame—Optimus consciously knew he too threw off some warmth, but regrettably could not sense his own aside from the chill in the air as snow melted off his armor.

In the glow of his optics, Optimus saw a stack of crates nearby. He put Megatron down in the corner the crates formed, hoping their walls would better reflect body heat back towards the source. The layer of snow on Megatron’s armor began to melt, giving Optimus hope.

Even in the dark, Optimus could make out the large dent in the side of Megatron’s helmet. Left by Optimus’s own foot.

As far as he could tell, like Optimus, Megatron must have gotten separated from his men in the storm after commlink signals went down. Optimus had blindly tripped over his enemy while stumbling through the thick snow.

The injury though…. It was all speculation, at least without being able to see it in better detail. Not that Optimus had any kind of medical training to speak of. Anything he might attempt in way of treatment could very well make the situation worse.

If only Ratchet were here, he thought, spark heavy; Ratchet would treat an enemy no matter what he was ordered to do. Even if he were ordered not to.

All Optimus could do on that front was wait for the storm to clear so he could signal for a rescue. Who knew how long that would be.

Perhaps, though, there would be something around this hangar he could use as a source of heat. Humans used many energy-dense carbon-based fuels for their machines; surely some would have been forgotten when they left this hangar behind who knew how long ago.

Leaving Megatron alone, propped up against the crates, Optimus began to feel his away around in the dim hangar. The lack of additional light severely hampered his progress.

In the dark, his palm came upon something smooth and round. He ran his hands over the cold surface. If he weren’t certain it was just a trick of sensation from the cold, he would have thought his hands had come away wet.

A barrel.

The stale yet pungent smell of some sort of fuel lingered in the air. Promising.

He pried the lid off to check the contents; it came up surprisingly easily.

In the dim light given off by his optics, he could see that the barrel was only about half full, the surface of the liquid glinting as he jostled the container.

The fumes wafting up reminded him of a mixture of what humans put in their ground vehicles or used in certain lanterns. Acrid and awful.

He would need to figure out how to best use it, of course. Humans preferred to use liquid fuel for their machines, not unlike how energon was most useful in it’s refined liquid state…. Perhaps they could drink it—No. Well, maybe. The smell was vile. It would have to have been a last resort.

Optimus put the lid back on the barrel and carried it back over to where he had left Megatron, only bumping into items in the dark a few times.

He heard a groan from where Megatron had been left.

Finally, he was waking up.

Optimus leaned over the propped up frame of his companion. Red optics burned up at him in aggravation, but no obvious malice. Not yet anyway. Maybe there was hope, maybe they could put their disagreements aside.

“Take it easy, old friend.” He put his hands out towards Megatron, ready to steady him if necessary. That dent was nothing to scoff at, after all. “You’re injured.”

“What in the—“

Optimus interrupted before Megatron could start swearing; he already knew what question would follow any preamble of cursing anyway.

“I rescued you from the blizzard; unfortunately, the raging of the storm outside is preventing us from summoning our comrades for aid.”

“No, that’s not—Prime, you smell revolting." Megatron pushed him away. “What did you do?”

“Oh. Hm.” It was likely the fumes from the barrel. It wasn’t exactly a refined bouquet like one would find in commercial fragrances. “I sourced some fuel from nearby.”

Megatron grunted as he got to his feet, clearly trying to not to acknowledge the injury that had to be terribly painful. Putting on a brave face no matter the adversity, an admirable trait if he didn’t always use it for selfish purposes.

“You mean to say that you stole it.”

“I procured it,” Optimus corrected, standing aside as Megatron staggered the few paces between his resting place and the partially filled barrel.

He would say “scavenged” would have been more accurate.

“You can hide misdeeds behind obfuscating language all you’d like, but we both know better.”

“You are the last one I would expect to hear complaining about theft.”

Not that Optimus stole anything.

He pried the loose lid back off the barrel, releasing the unpleasant fumes into the air once more.

It wasn’t as though there was anyone around to pay for it, though perhaps he could leave some nominal amount shanix with whatever human military agency had previously owned the facility. Then again, humans had balked at shanix before since it didn’t readily convert to fungible currency as they understood it.

They probably wouldn’t have been concerned about a half-empty barrel of aircraft fuel. Megatron surely knew that; he must have just wanted under Optimus’s plating. As usual.

Megatron reached into his subspace and pulled out an empty cube.

Optimus clutched the lid to his chest, aghast.

“Megatron, surely you can’t intend to—“

“Do you see any energon around here that isn’t already in our lines? Or have the Autobots at last sunk so low as to regularly engage in cannibalism?”

Without hesitation, Megatron plunged the cube into the fuel.

“Megatron, that’s not at all what I was implying and you know that.”

The only reply was a defiant huff as the cube was retrieved. The foul-smelling liquid inside appeared clear in the dim light of their optics now that it wasn’t backed by the solid metal canister.

“I was actually planning on burning it so that we can better dry our armor and—“

Ignoring him, Megatron took a swig from the cube and immediately spat the swig back into the barrel.

“Revolting.”

“That should have been obvious by the smell alone, don’t you think?”

With a sigh, Optimus turned back to the barrel itself. Megatron could amuse himself with his distasteful meal while he did something productive. It served him right.

He didn’t have a purpose-made lighter on hand, but he would make do. If he struck the lid with his arm just right, it ought to generate a spark.

Holding the lid over the barrel at an angle, Optimus began scraping the edge of his forearm armor against the metal. If only he could have done this without the earsplitting screech.

“Prime.”

“Hm?”

It was difficult to hear over the racket of metal on metal.

Megatron said something, but all Optimus heard was “leaking?”

He finally managed to make a spark with the makeshift striker, the spark landing in the barrel.

“What was that?” Now that he could actually hear again.

The fuel within roared as flames spread across the surface, rising high over the barrel’s metal side where it had been splashed in transit.

Excellent, now they would have a source of warmth for… however long the fuel lasted. He was, regrettably, unfamiliar with this mixture’s particulars. He could only assume it was intended for human aircraft.

He turned back to see Megatron pointing at something on the floor, now that there was sufficient light by which to see.

“The barrel is leaking, Prime,” he said, pausing afterward to take a sip of his cube.

On the floor there was a wet-looking trail extending from the barrel back the way Optimus must have brought it before. There was no way he would have seen the clear fuel in the dark, especially not when he had been wet from the snow.

The flames drew themselves down the sides of the barrel and raced down that trail of dropped fuel.

No good deed went unpunished.

“Excellent work, Prime. You’ve made an improvised incendiary device. And aimed it at yourself.”

As though Megatron himself were somehow exempt from whatever fate would befall the both of them as a result.

“The sarcasm is unnecessary, old friend.” Especially while continuing to sip the rancid fuel like he actually enjoyed it.

“Well, I think freezing to death will be the least of our concerns.” Megatron paused, looking around at the hangar, as though determining how flammable the contents were. “For about twenty minutes….”

The fuselage of one of the abandoned aircraft exploded, splattering ignited oil over the hangar, including onto additional barrels of… Primus knew what. Probably more gasoline… or oil.

“Correction: two minutes, Prime.”

--

There had been two small blessings out of this whole fiasco, Optimus thought as he stood there with Megatron, watching the conflagration that had once been their meager shelter.

Firstly, the blizzard had died down enough—though the snow still gusted by in rough vortices—to get SOS messages out to their respective troops. Soon, they would be rescued.

Secondly, the flaming wreckage of the hangar at least kept one side of their frames warm, preventing the ice and snow in the seams of their armor from freezing and causing damage.

Unfortunately, Megatron was still loudly sipping at his cube of fuel. An awful, wet sound.

“I always wondered what enforcers did for fun,” he said, giving Optimus a brief respite from the earsplitting noise. “I always thought it was something like beating prisoners or availing themselves of confiscated circuit boosters. Now, however, it is clear you do what the rest of us do.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Megatron let out a rough laugh and slapped Optimus on the shoulder, like he expected him to be in the joke.

“Arson—“ He paused, swirling the remaining fuel around the cube clutched in his hand. “You know, after you get used to it, this human fuel has a certain surprising appeal, Prime. You are truly missing out. ”

[piedpiperart]

Phantom of Gotham 16

Chapter 15

Danny woke up not long after he fell asleep. And wasn’t that weird? He wasn’t sure what the change was but he’d been sleeping a lot more lately. Was it because he didn’t have ghosts to fight all the time? Or school, considering they had a bit of a winter break right now with the blizzard. He figured they’d be going back to school tomorrow or the day after at the latest, because the snow had already started to melt significantly. Danny wasn’t really sure what that was about but he figured it might be a Gotham thing. 

Upon waking up, he’d immediately noticed the warm body next to him, and his face grew warm with embarrassment. He was more or less leaning most of his body over- yep that was Tim. He was surprisingly comfortable, and his core preened at his friend getting some much-needed sleep. Danny had noticed the dark bags under his eyes, and frankly horrifying coffee addiction. Even when Danny had subtly made Tim’s coffee go cold the boy still gulped it down like he was starving. 

Looking at the sleeping body pressed against him, Danny preened at the fact that his coffee-stealing had paid off. Sure, he’d probably have to fetch the coffee cups out of the walls, but it was worth it. Tim did not need to drink so much coffee, and it was obvious that no one else in his family was going to put a stop to it. He’d have the twelve cups a day whittled down to three in no time. Mostly due to ghostly interference, but Danny could admit he needed superpowers to fight Tim on this one. 

Slowly, Danny creeped out of the little blanket cuddle huddle with a subtle use of his intangibility to keep from waking Tim and placed the blanket more securely around Tim. After a moment, he also phased the game controller out of where it was digging into Tim’s ribs and put it on the coffee table. Satisfied with his work, Danny pulled out his phone to check the time, and to his relief, he didn’t need to get to the warehouse just yet. 

Glancing periodically back to Tim snoring softly on the couch, Danny made his way to the kitchen. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes while he padded down the hall in Tim’s fluffy Superman socks.  He made his way to the kitchen only to find no one but Alfred there, puttering about and making what looked like oatmeal cookies. Danny grimaced. Chocolate chips were better, he reasoned. 

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

Tim woke up with a start, finding himself surprisingly warm. Glancing around, he could tell he was on the couch in the game room. Alone. His stomach rumbled lightly and Tim assumed Danny had gotten hungry and left. Slowly, stretching his limbs until he heard a few concerning cracks, he shuffled his way to the kitchen. He checked his phone, noting that he’d missed dinner. They must have let him sleep, he figured, but couldn’t argue with how rested he felt. 

“What if we make ones with oatmeal and chocolate chips?” Tim heard Danny voice from his spot outside the kitchen door. Amused, he pushed the door open to see Danny at the counter with what looked like leftovers from dinner, the boy gesturing with his fork towards where Alfred was baking cookies. 

“Ah, Master Timothy. Have a seat, your food will be ready in a moment,”Alfred gestured. His lips were tilted up with amusement the moment Danny piped up again. 

“I can make chocolate chip cookies,”Danny reasoned. “My sisters like it when I make them. I can share my secret recipe with you if you don’t put oatmeal in them.” 

Alfred’s eyes crinkled with amusement as he placed a heated plate of vegetables and meat in front of Tim. Tim nodded in thanks, turning to Danny. “Is this another toast situation? I promise Alfred’s oatmeal cookies are really good.”

“I’m sure they are,”Danny placated,”But I’m just saying they’d be better with chocolate chips instead of raisins,” He said, shuddering at the word raisin. 

“If it would appease you Master Daniel,”Alfred said, noting the flinch and grimace Danny made at the name,”I shall make half with raisin and half with chocolate.”

Danny thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”

“And then we can mix them up for everyone else so they don’t know which is which,"Tim added helpfully. Danny beamed at him. 

“Exactly!” Danny cheered. Tim knew for a fact that most of the manor wouldn’t mind either option, but Dick would. Over the years Tim has found that Dick’s sweet tooth has left him easily susceptible to food-based pranks. In his early years, Jason apparently utilized this tactic constantly. 

Tim picked up his coffee mug and made a face when he realized it was tea. Alfred, most likely. “Thanks for the food Alfred, I’m gonna head to bed a bit early today,”Danny said, dropping his dishes in the sink. “The nap earlier kinda tired me out,”He added, patting Tim on the back on his way out. Tim opted to finish his plate before asking Alfred about the rest of the family. 

“Alf-”Tim started when he’d gotten up to put his plate away, only for Alfred to cut him off. 

“You’ll find the rest of the family in the cave,”Alfred raised a brow. “They’re reviewing some concerning discoveries about Danny and getting ready for the meeting with Phantom.”

“Oh, great,”Tim said, pulling out his phone and pre-emptively sending his research and plans about how to make a treaty with people from another dimension to the batcomputer. He ignored the sting of being left out of the family gathering, but he brushed it off as spending time with Danny instead. Besides, now he felt refreshed. If only he had some coffee…

Making his way to the cave, he immediately heard arguing and sighed. Maybe it was better that he’d gotten some peace and quiet before dealing with this, he reasoned. He miserably sipped his thermos full of…tea… and made his way to the batcomputer. 

“Okay, so we just have to do the treaty thing first and then get more information on Danny,”Jason gestured. Most of them were already in costume, minus Dick, who was without a domino. 

“It’s more than a simple treaty, Todd,”Damian scoffed. 

“Enough,”Bruce chimes in gruffly.”This is just a meeting to negotiate. Since the Fenton’s and the GIW are committing interdimensional war crimes, we’ll have to bring this to the Justice League eventually.”

“You think the Green Lanterns are going to intervene?”Dick pondered aloud, and Batman’s mouth twitched down. Tim could tell it was because Bruce didn’t like dealing with Hal Jordan. Or any other lantern, really. 

“They shouldn’t have to if we manage to keep things civil here,”Tim chimed in from his spot at the batcomputer, startling a few of them of his presence. “Assuming the Ghost King just wants the human realm to stop hunting them and poking holes into their dimension, we can take over with charging the necessary parties responsible. Though, we don’t know what kind of resources or information the Infinite Realms have, so this could possibly be a good thing for Earth.”

“How was your nap?” Jason cooed, and Tim frowned exasperatedly. Sometimes he wonders why he hasn't moved out yet. 

“It was fine. Danny’s purring lulled me to sleep in minutes,”Tim deadpanned. 

“Awww, I can’t believe I didn’t get to see it in person!” Dick complained. “Do you think Phantom purrs? That would be adorable.”

“Timothy has stated that all ghosts are likely to purr,”Damian stated. “I assume they only do it when they feel safe and comfortable, which is unlikely for Phantom to do around vigilantes.”

“I bet I could do it,”Dick grumbled to himself. “Ten bucks to the next person who can make a ghost- or Danny- purr.” 

“Bet,”Tim smirked. What can he say, he’s a bit competitive. 

Bruce sighed at their shenanigans. “Tim, get in uniform.”

“All of us are going?” Dick bounced. “So early?”

“We’re setting up,”Batman grunted. 

“Ah, contingency plans,”Jason sighed. “I for one, trust Phantom. Sure, maybe the other ghosts aren’t so great, but the kid wouldn’t do anything bad on purpose. Hell, he’s stuck in Gotham just to protect Danny.”

“Can never be too careful,”Damian tuts. 

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

Flying out as Phantom, Danny made it to the agreed upon warehouse in record time. Okay, so he got a little lost, but it was fine. He made it early, even. The warehouse was already full of bats, Danny smiled at the pun, and he could even see Robin from where he was phasing through the roof. He observed them for a few minutes, taking in the familiarity of their banter. It reminded him of the Wayne kids a lot. If he thought about it, there was probably one bat to each Wayne, he mused, shaking his head. 

Danny took a breath to steady his nerves, and flew down to meet everyone. Batman was first to register his presence by the way he stiffened. Danny wasn’t really sure how, but he figured his nerves were making the air around them a bit colder. “Hey,”Danny called, popping into existence. The five vigilantes turned towards him, a few taking stances. 

“Hey Phantom,”Red Robin called, making his way over. The rest followed, and Nightwing in particular looked excited. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re adorable!” Nightwing cheered, and bounced into Danny’s personal space. Danny floated back a bit, amused but nervous. “It’s nice to finally meet you face to face.”

“Uh, you too,”Phantom said, rubbing the back of his neck. He nodded to Robin and Batman, who didn’t move much. 

“So, if you’re serious about an alliance, I figured we should probably start small with ghosts to meet,”Danny said, rambling a bit at the attention. 

“We’ll follow your lead on this one kid,”Red Hood said, and that made Danny relax. No pressure, he reminded himself. 

“Alright, well, for starters, I need you to hold onto this,”Phantom instructed, pulling out what looked like a regular stick from off the ground. He passed it to Hood, who seemed exasperated yet curious.

Phantom turned to the rest of them, “Stay where you are and don’t make sudden movements until I calm him down.” And before anyone could process that sentence, Phantom let out an ear-piercing whistle. 

The bats exchanged glances, and nothing seemed to happen for a moment as Phantom floated in the center of the warehouse. Just when Dick shifted to say something, a bright green, swirling hole opened up in front of Phantom, getting bigger and bigger by the second. Hood, recognizing that particular shade of green, took a step back. Phantom only seemed to have eyes for the swirling portal. 

Once the portal got to a worrying 16 feet in diameter, the bats startled as a loud bark echoed around the warehouse. Tim was maybe starting to think this whole thing might be a bad idea when he spotted something large and green coming out of the portal. It looked… like a dog?

Once the massive beast stepped through the portal, Phantom proceeded to fling himself at the giant green dog. “Cujo!” He exclaimed, the green fur practically hiding him. “I missed you boy!” Phantom cheered, petting him vigorously. The bats collectively took a breath of relief. 

Then, surprising all of them, Phantom floated back from the excited, slobbering dog. “Can you shrink for me buddy?” He asked in a babying voice, and Cujo gave another deafening bark before shrinking to a tiny little dog that was floating around Phantom happily. “Good boy! Now, I want you to meet someone so behave.”

Phantom gathered the tiny wigging dog in his arms as the portal vanished, and brought the two of them to the warehouse floor. Phantom’s white boots were glowing against the concrete as he stepped closer to the Bats. Tim noted fondly that Phantom was practically beaming as he held his ghost dog. 

“Okay, so, this is Cujo,”Phantom gestured with his arms, not bothered when Cujo licked his face at the movement. “He’s a ghost dog, obviously, and he’s got a thing for playing in the human realm sometimes. My job is usually to take him back home when this happens, because, well, you saw how big he can get.”

“How many other ghosts can make portals themselves?” Batman asked, and Phantom tilted his head. 

“Two or three that I’ve met. I know some that are probably strong enough to make them, but just don’t leave, so I’m not sure exactly,”Phantom said, and at Batman’s stare, he sighed. “I’m still learning.”

Ah, Tim thought. That explained why he brought Cujo first. He had to admit, the dog was cute. Phantom kind of reminded Tim of show and tell with the little presentation he had going on. “It’s easy to get Cujo to do what you want when you understand what he wants. The Fentons, however, just shoot at him and try to trap him, which just makes him get big and then people get hurt,”Danny said. “If there’s an alliance, there needs to be protections to prevent Cujo from hurting people, but also to prevent people from hurting Cujo. It’s hard to keep him in the zone, cuz he can just leave whenever he wants. Since not a lot of ghosts can do that though, you won’t have to worry much about other ghosts coming and going.”

“What sort of powers does Cujo have?” Red Robin piped in from where he was taking notes. 

“He has the basic skills of a ghost, which is flight, increased strength, intangibility, and invisibility. What makes him unique is the portal thing, a ghostly bark, and the bigger form. Not a lot of ghosts can do that stuff,”Phantom listed. “Usually ghosts will also have some form of ecto-blast too, but I’m not sure if Cujo has one.”

“Ecto-blast?” Batman grunted, and Danny perked up, before glancing at his hands that were busy holding Cujo. 

“Uh,  yeah,”Danny muttered, stepping to Robin. “Here, hold him for a minute,” Danny said, dumping Cujo gently in Robin’s arms. Dick was worried for a moment before he saw how positively excited Damian was to be holding a ghost dog, and he almost laughed when Cujo immediately started licking his face. 

Meanwhile, Phantom held up a hand and generated a small glowing ball the same color as the portal. “All ghosts are more or less made of ectoplasm, so we can generate it into concentrated blasts.” He then demonstrated by firing a small blast to the floor opposite to everyone. It reminded Dick of Starfire’s energy beams. 

“What other powers do you have?” Tim asked.”You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Nah, it’s cool,”Phantom waved.”Some abilities are unique to the ghost. For me, I have an ice core, so I can generate ice. But Technus has an electric core and Jonny has a shadow core so they both have different abilities.”

“So ghosts are like pokemon,”Hood commented and Danny shot him an exasperated look. He kind of wasn’t wrong though.

“So Danny has an ice core?” Robin asked, and Phantom froze. How did he- Danny had only told Damian that and- Did he- “I’ve seen him make snowballs with his powers, and he is unaffected by the cold.”

“Is an ice core common?” Red Robin piped in. Phantom’s eyes widened as all the dots in his head connected. Damian is Robin. That meant… Tim is Red Robin. Dick is.. Nightwing? And that leaves Jason for Hood and Batman as Bruce. Woah. 

“Uh,”Phantom stammered. “No? Maybe? I’m not really sure. Some ghost cores like Ice and electricity and fire are obvious, but then other times I have no idea how to classify a ghost. Sometimes only the strongest ones have specific cores, while the weaker ones don’t. Take Cujo for example, I have no idea what kind of core he has.”

A glance towards Cujo and the dog preened at the attention. Yeah, Tim could understand the reasoning there. Robin was still absently petting him.”And can all ghosts purr?” Dick added. 

Phantom choked on air for a moment before he croaked out a,”What?”

“We just assumed, since Danny can purr,”Damian scoffed, but he looked interested in the answer. 

When did I- Danny thought frantically before he figured it must have been when he was sleeping in the game room. He couldn’t help it, it was just comfortable and warm, and he’d only ever purred around Tucker, Sam, or Jazz before. He abruptly realized that he’d gotten comfortable enough around the Waynes that he’d purred. 

Phantom took a breath, pushing those thoughts far back into his mind. “Yes, ghosts purr when their core, uh, hums or vibrates or something. It usually happens around family or friends when they’re relaxed though.”

 “Aright, so what can we expect from the stronger ghosts?” Red Robin asked. 

“As I said, the abilities of a ghost are unique to the ghost. Cores are a way to determine that, but also obsessions,”Danny continued. “It’s rude to ask about obsessions like it is to ask how a ghost died, but usually it’s pretty obvious when you meet them. Technus is a ghost obsessed with technology and inventing, so usually when he comes to the human realm he goes into the powerlines, or steals computers and stuff. Ember was a singer when she was alive, and she has an obsession with being remembered, so she has the power to hypnotize with her guitar. Stuff like that.”

“You said Ember was a singer? Were all ghosts alive in the human realm before?” Dick chimed in. The unspoken, were you alive before was something Danny chose to ignore. 

“Ectoplasm is largely made up of emotions, which can form from basically anything, including a human who had a pretty big obsession with something when they died. But no, ghosts can also have ghost kids with other ghosts, or things like shadow or blob ghosts can just form from a bunch of strong emotions,”Phantom said. 

“Wait- ghosts can-”Nightwing sputtered. “Ghosts can have kids?? How??”

“When a ghost loves another ghost very much-” Phantom smirked but was cut off by Hood’s bark of laughter. “But yeah, Lunch Lady and Boxy had a kid, so I know it’s possible but not too sure about the specifics- and please don’t make me think about it longer than I have to.”

“That’s fair,”Dick nodded. 

“Alright,”Phantom clapped. “Introductions and explanations done, any more questions before I grab some regents?” 

“So many,”Red Robin muttered, typing on his computer almost violently. Danny worried about him, he really did. Course, he was still reeling over the discovery that Tim was actually a vigilante, and now that he thought about it, the lack of sleep Tim got made sense now. He just resolved to push all thoughts of the Wayne-Bats to the back of his mind and deal with it later. 

Batman gave a look, and Phantom stretched his hands out,”Alright then, for me to find a regent I’ll have to go into the realms and get him. Does anyone want to come with me? It’s a hundred percent safe and we’ll be gone for like, twenty minutes. Probably. Maybe thirty.”

“Into the realms?” Nightwing echoed. 

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,”Phantom reassured. “I just thought I’d ask. Electronics don’t work through the portal and it’s pretty cold where he lives, but other than that you’ll be fine.”

“Can I come?” Red Robin raised his hand, and the bats gave him a look. “What? I wanna go explore the Infinite Realms.”

“You sure it’s cool with the Ghost King?” Hood asked, and Phantom grinned.

“Oh yeah, totally. He knows we’re meeting and everything,” Phantom said. “And Cujo can stay here so you can observe ghost dog behavior or something. If he gets rowdy just have Hood throw the stick for him.”

Batman sighed, knowing no amount of arguing would persuade his most curious son when the opportunity to research something was offered,”Twenty minutes,” He grumbled. 

“Sweet,”Red Robin grinned, bounding over to Phantom. 

“I’ll give you the ghostly tour,”Phantom beamed, floating to the center of the warehouse. It took a minute, but the kid clawed through the air with a bit of difficulty. “Ta da!” He chimed when a smaller portal opened up. 

“I thought you needed Cujo to open a portal for you,”Red Robin commented, and Phantom shrugged. 

“I’m still learning, but since he already opened one up here it’s easier for me to just re-open it,”Phantom said, pointed teeth shining through his grin. “Now, hold onto me and don’t let go. I don’t want you getting lost and ending up in Walker’s prison or your pelt on someone's wall.”

“What?” The bat family heard Tim say before the portal closed around them. 

“So… that happened,”Hood broke the silence. Batman turned to type things on his computer while Dick bounded over to where Damian was giving Cujo some love. Hood kept a hold on the dumb stick and made his way over to the duo. 

Jason had to admit, the tiny green dog was cool. He reached over to let him sniff his hand before running it down the dog’s back. It felt like petting a cloud, not very solid but still there. Fuzzy around the edges, Jason thought. 

“I can’t believe we just let Red Robin explore an entire dimension by himself,”Dick fretted, petting Cujo a bit frantically until Damian gave him a look. Cujo seemed content in Damian’s arms, occasionally licking whoever came close to his face. 

“Eh, he’ll be fine. Phantom will take care of him,”Jason replied, fiddling with the stick. He kind of wanted to see what would happen if he threw it for the dog. 

“I believe Phantom has an obsession with some kind of protection aspect,”Damian scoffed. “Red Robin will be fine.”

“Maybe we should take a vacation into the Infinite Realms after this,”Jason mused. Though, after seeing the glowing green swirling portal so similar to the lazarus pits, he wasn’t so sure. At that moment though, Cujo started getting restless. 

The dog squirmed in Damian’s arms, much to the boy's disappointment. Before Damian could set him down, he was shocked when the dog just phased through his arms and floated around the group. Jason grinned, holding up the stick.

“Here boy, want the stick?” Jason said, brandishing the stick in front of the dog to catch his attention. Ears perked up, and Cujo barked, though not as loudly as before. “Fetch!” Jason called, and the dog dashed through the air after the stick when Jason threw it clear across the whole warehouse. 

The three of them busied themselves with playing fetch with the ghost dog until a familiar portal opened up in the middle of the warehouse. Phantom stepped through first Red Robin following, though they saw him asking Phantom a million questions about the zone. Everyone in the warehouse let out a sigh of relief, seeing Tim in one piece. The only thing different was his face was flushed and smiling and his hair was more of a mess than usual. Phantom on the other hand, looked the same as before he left. Behind Phantom, a tall, broad, ghost walked through the portal, looking like what one would describe as a yeti. 

Cujo bounded up to them excitedly while Tim rattled off more questions, oblivious to the other bats. “No, well, I’m not sure,”Phantom was saying,”Frostbite?” He said, turning to the yeti. 

The guy- Frostbite- looked fond and amused at the two,”Most ghosts have a haunt, or share one. Phantom, I suspect yours is the human realm,”Frostbite chuckled at the bewildered expression on Phantom’s face. “Now, I assume you’re the Bat Man?”

“Just Batman is fine,”Bruce nodded respectfully. “This is Red Hood, Nightwing, Robin, and you’ve met Red Robin,”Batman introduced. Frostbite nodded at the kids gracefully. The two ghosts were glowing eerily, but Frostbite seemed a little more solid than Phantom. 

“I am frostbite, leader of the Far Frozen and one of the regents for King Phantom,”Frostbite introduced, and the bats froze. 

“Dude, you’re the Ghost King?” Red Robin accused, giving Phantom a look. Phantom just groaned. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m the Ghost King, whatever,”Phantom muttered. Frostbite giving him a sympathetic yet amused look.  “Thanks a lot Frostbite.”

“How?? Why??” Dick exclaimed, and Phantom sighed. 

“Long story short I beat up the old Ghost King for doing bad things and that made me Ghost King by default except I’m not really- uh- old enough to be King yet so Frostbite and CW and a few others are ruling as a council until I’m ready or whatever,”Phantom huffed. “It’s not really important because I don’t really make decisions about anything and I have absolutely no idea how a treaty alliance thing works.”

Ah, well, Dick could understand that. Still. “Guess we have to call you your highness now, huh?” He responded. 

“No,”Phantom groaned, putting a hand to his face. Meanwhile, Frostbite and Batman made their way to the side to continue the grown up conversation. Ugh, paperwork, Danny shuddered. “Call me that and I’ll haunt you forever.”

This time, Cujo found a spot in Jason’s arms as the teens and Dick conversed. He pet the ghost dog absently as the three called Phantom anything between Supreme Emperor to Princess. For the first time in a while, he was actually glad to find an easy mission like this to bide their time. Sure, he knew the legal stuff might take a while, but it was unlikely that they’d end up in any kind of invasion-scenario. He was almost relaxed in the present company. 

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

Batman was surprised the alliance was going so well. While he was surprised Phantom turned out to be the Ghost King, he was relieved he had at least a good judge of character for the kid going forward. In addition, Frostbite was surprisingly helpful. 

The two mentors discussed policies on ghosts who end up in the human realm, sentience laws that needed changed, and much to his surprise the Yeti offered to share advanced technology and lost human artifacts. Batman considered all of these good points, and knew they could hash out the intricate details like researching the Infinite Realms and so on later. For now their main priority was overturning the anti-ecto acts, protections for halfas, getting the two known portals shut down or at least confiscated, charges against the GIW and Fentons, and setting up a safe way for ghosts to be sent back to the zone. 

Bruce was relieved that Frostbite was so logical about everything. It made negotiations far simpler, and he found himself learning a lot about ghost habits and biology. It amazed him at how much trust they were putting in him and he vowed not to let them down. Frostbite was definitely not what he’d been expecting, but he was pleasantly surprised. He wondered how many ghosts resided in the realms, what their society is like. He’d have to read Tim’s report about what he found on his tour with Phantom. And then lecture him on taking unnecessary risks. 

Two hours later, they had a plan. Phantom and Red Robin had apparently searched the warehouse for boxes and brought two to Frostbite, who smiled at their antics. When the group asked Tim about it later he said they had run into the Box Ghost on the way to Frostbite and Tim had promised him a box. They weren’t really sure if Tim was pranking them or not, but decided to change the subject. 

When Frostbite disappeared into the portal with Cujo, they turned to find Phantom had disappeared as well. 

Chapter 17

[nahoney22]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a SFW wrecker/reader fic? I had an idea where they're stranded in a blizzard and have to take shelter in an abandoned house, but there's only one bed. Cuddles ensue. Pre or post relationship! Thank you in advance :DD

My Choice is Always

Wrecker X GN!Reader

word count: 2.2k

One Bed? Snow storm? That could only mean one thing.

warnings: lots of fluff! Mutual pining, pre relationship, minor injury to reader and also minor mention of nudity (depends on how you read it though, nothing happens), cuddles and kisses. Gender neutral reader.

authors note: so sorry for the wait anon! Absolute sucker for a share a bed trope.

The frigid air pierced your bones, sending shivers down your spine and causing your lips to chap in the unforgiving gusts of wind. With each step, you battled through a daunting wall of snow, reaching depths of at least seven feet.

Hoth, a planet you had once dreamed of visiting, had become a reality, albeit under less desirable circumstances. This visit was not by choice, nor was it during a time when the planet showcased its awe-inspiring beauty like you had seen on holopictures. Instead, you found yourself in the midst of the worst snowstorm you had ever encountered.

"W-Wrecker," you managed to utter, your teeth chattering uncontrollably, while your arms clung desperately to your coat, offering little respite from the biting cold. "How much farther?"

"Tech said a few more klicks south! You hangin' in there?" Wrecker's voice came through his helmet, the snow mercifully unable to sting his skin like it did yours.

"I've certainly had better days," you responded, a wry laugh escaping your lips. "F-freaking freezing!"

Wrecker emitted a sigh of agreement, adjusting his pace to accommodate your slower stride. It was just the two of you, having split from the rest of the boys and Omega on this stupid mission. All to recover a lost artifact for one of Cid's clients which you knew the pay would be less than adequate. Wrecker however, always caring, frequently checked in on you, a habit you were much grateful for.

You had long been aware of Wrecker's affection for you, and truth be told, you reciprocated those feelings. Strongly. However, you had hoped for a more romantic setting to explore the depths of your connection. Instead, you found yourselves locked in a relentless battle against a blizzard, with no end in sight.

As luck would have it, the situation managed to deteriorate even further. With each step you took, anticipating the soft cushion of snow beneath your feet, you instead encountered an unforgiving thick slab of ice. Slipping on it, it sends you hurtling forward with your ankle twisting uncomfortably upon impact.

A cry of pain escaped your lips, immediately drawing Wrecker's attention. "What happened? Are you okay?" Wrecker's eyes darted over you, his worry palpable is his tone.

You gritted your teeth, clutching your injured ankle as if it would dull the throbbing pain. "I'll survive," you sighed, though the lack of conviction in your voice betrayed you. "But I think I've sprained my ankle."

Wrecker muttered a quiet curse under his breath and contacted the rest of the team to inform them of the situation. Kindly, they did ask about your well-being, but you had no choice but to admit that for you to continue with this mission was a no-go.

"I've marked your location, and there's a settlement just east of where you are now. It should provide shelter for the night," Tech relayed calmly. "Given the treacherous conditions, it's best for all of us to find a place to stay until morning."

"I agree with Tech," Hunter's voice chimed in through the transmission. "We can't push through this weather any longer. Let's all find shelter for the night."

And so, that became the new plan. The only problem was that you couldn't exactly move forward at all.

"I've got you," Wrecker responded to your unspoken thoughts however, his large hands sliding underneath you as he effortlessly lifted you into his arms.

Despite the unpleasant weather and the pain throbbing in your ankle, you couldn't help but find this gesture somewhat romantic. "Are you sure you want to carry me? We don't even know how f-far this place is!" You shouted over a fierce gust of wind that felt like a slap to your face.

Wrecker chuckled behind his bucket, adjusting his grip to secure you more comfortably. "I'll always carry you when you need it."

A swarm of butterflies erupted in your chest at his words, but fortunately, you were already in his arms, sparing you from a potentially embarrassing swoon on the ground.

After a few minutes of walking, you both caught sight of a sizable structure in the distance, undoubtedly the shelter Tech had pinpointed. Wrecker forcefully and of course impressively kicked open the door, to which was already partially unhinged.

The building appeared weather-beaten and worn, but it offered much-needed shelter. Carefully setting you down, you steadied yourself against the wall while he quickly gathered chairs, dressers, and a table to barricade the door, ensuring as much protection and security as possible.

"Maker, it's colder in here than out there," you shivered even despite the absence of wind and snow.

Fortunately, your eyes landed on something promising—a fireplace. "Don't suppose ya have anything to light it with?" Wrecker inquired. You rummaged through your damp coat pockets, and to your relief, you found a box of matches.

"H-here," you replied through chattering teeth, tossing the matches to him. Wrecker effortlessly caught them, crouching down in front of the fireplace to ignite a flame.

"That should warm things up," he stated, rising to his feet and removing his helmet, placing it aside and rubbed his hands together in front of the crackling fire. You nodded in agreement, and his gaze shifted to you, filled with concern. "You look freezing, cyare." You tried to ignore the endearment, but a flush spread across your cheeks, conveniently attributing it to the cold.

"I am," you dryly laughed, as he approached you and gently guided you toward the fire with his arm around your waist. He fetched an old dusty chair and helped you sit down. "Thanks, Wrecker." You smiled up at him but frowned when realising that there was only one chair available— the one you occupied—while the other was pressed against the door. So, Wrecker settled himself on the floor.

"Is that comfy down there? We can switch if you want."

"Nah, don't be silly. I'm alright!" Wrecker grinned up at you, rubbing his hands together by the fire. Then, he carefully gestured toward your ankle. "Is your ankle alright? You should take your boots off, I bet your socks are wet."

He was right. As soon as he mentioned it, a tingling sensation spread through your feet, prompting you to waste no time in removing your snow-dusted boots and socks. "That's better," you whispered to yourself, relishing in the warmth that enveloped your toes as they bathed in the heat of the fire. You watched as Wrecker took your socks and boots, placing them near the flames for them to dry. You eventually removed your coat too, seeing no benefit in keeping something drenched in snow covering your body.

"I hope the others found some shelter," Wrecker voiced after a comfortable silence. You suggested he try contacting them, but sadly, there was no signal to be found.

"We should try again in a bit, or wait for them to contact us first," you suggested, your hand gently resting on Wrecker's shoulder, offering reassurance as you noticed the hint of nervousness on his face when there was no reply. "I'm sure they'll be alright."

"Yeah, you're right," Wrecker replied softly, finding solace in the warmth radiating from your touch that seemed to charge his entire body.

Seizing the opportunity, you surveyed the small room, which consisted of an open space with a modest but now dusty lounge area centered around a fireplace, a tiny kitchen with stripped and empty cupboards, and one large bed nestled in the corner.

Wait. Pause. One bed?

"Wrecker, there's only one bed," you nervously pointed out, preemptively addressing the potential awkwardness to save any embarrassment later on.

Wrecker leaned back, his gaze shifting between the bed and you. "Uh, I can stay on the floor if you want?"

You quickly shook your head, earning an amused raise of his eyebrow at your eager rejection. It made you slightly embarrassed, but given your intuition about the mutual feelings between you, maybe sharing a bed wasn't such a bad idea after all. "Don't be silly," you finally responded, clearing your throat as your arms instinctively hugged your trembling body. "The bed is big enough for both of us. And it'll be... erm... extra warm."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Wrecker's lips, his eyes lighting up with a mix of gratitude and anticipation. "Alright, if you say so," he replied, his voice carrying a subtle hint of excitement.

Together, you both prepared for the night, a mix of nervous anticipation and comfort intertwining in the air. Stripping out of your wet clothes felt somewhat vulnerable, but you both understood the need for dry garments in the morning. To your relief, Wrecker's gaze held no trace of objectification, only warmth and understanding.

After setting your clothes out to dry by the crackling fire, you hopped your way toward Wrecker, mindful of you ankle, who had pulled back the sheets on the bed, managing to find some extra linens in one of the dressers.

"It ain't much, but it should do," he said, offering a genuine smile as he settled onto the bed. The creaking of the mattress accompanied your weight as you pulled the covers close and sighed. "Not too shabby, to be honest," you commented, snuggling into your pillow and gazing up at the dull ceiling, aware of the impending intimacy of sharing a bed with Wrecker for the night.

"Man, I'm starving!" Wrecker groaned, his stomach rumbling in agreement.

"Hunter always tells you to pack some rations," you teased, smirking up at him, knowing full well that he hadn't stocked up before the mission.

He rolled over, his eyes meeting yours. "Oh, yeah? Where are yours then?" Your smirk faded, and you playfully swatted his arm.

"Shut up." Okay, so maybe you were guilty of forgetting to pack rations too.

The two of you embraced the comfortable silence, maintaining a respectful distance as you listened to the sizzling fire drown out the howling wind outside. The others had yet to make contact, but you hoped for a response in the morning.

"Can I tell you something?" you blurted out, your mind swirling with ifs and buts.

Wrecker turned his head, nodding, his gaze filled with gentleness. "Always."

A smile tugged at your lips at his reply, and it took a moment for you to gather your thoughts. "I hate Cid," you confessed, the weight of your words lifting as they hung in the air.

Wrecker's smile widened, and a hearty laugh escaped his lips. "With all the bickering ya do, I could never tell," he teased, earning a playful eye roll from you.

"But," you continued, fidgeting with your hands beneath the covers, your heart racing, "I'm kinda glad she assigned us this mission."

Wrecker studied your face, his eyes filled with understanding. While some might consider him slow to pick up on certain things, he had an innate sense that allowed him to decipher the unspoken. "Yeah," he spoke softly, his usually booming voice now a tender rumble, "I'm kinda glad too."

Your gaze shifted to him, drawing closer as his arm enveloped your shoulder, tracing small circles on your skin. "I think I'd always choose to be stuck in a snowstorm with you, Wrecker," you murmured, closing your eyes as the comforting warmth of his body washed over you.

His eyes closed as well, pulling you a little closer. The sensation of your bodies pressed against each other filled you both with euphoria. "You’re so warm," you whispered, and without thinking you placed a kiss to his arm that you nestled into.

And without hesitation, Wrecker whispered, "You missed my lips."

You open your eyes, already seeing him look at you as the weight of his words lingered in the air only for a short amount of time until the tension became unbearable.

The room is filled with a gentle warmth as you gaze into each other's eyes, the world outside forgotten. You lean in, capturing his lips with you own and savoring the taste and the tender connection that has formed between you. Your hand caresses his cheek, feeling the roughness of his scars beneath your fingertips. In response, Wrecker's arm wraps around your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

As the kiss lingers, you can feel the electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a fire within you in this blizzard. His touch, his embrace, sends shivers down your spine, not from the cold, but from the sheer intensity of the moment.

When you finally part, breathless and filled with a newfound sense of closeness, Wrecker's eyes meet yours, his voice filled with sincerity. "I've always wanted to do that," he admits, his dazed eyes glowing with a mix of emotions.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips as you tease him. "Is 'always' your favorite word today?" you ask, planting another subtle kiss on his lips.

He chuckles, his hand gently kneading your waist, his touch both tender and possessive. "I suppose it is," he admits, relishing in the feeling of having you lying beside him. He showers you with soft kisses, peppering your hair, the side of your head, and any available space on your face. "Always wanted to be beside you, always wanted to kiss you," he whispers, his words barely audible.

Your heart swells with affection as you intertwine your fingers with his. "Always you."

More wrecker works

Masterlist

Tags + those who I think will appreciate some Wrecker love: @theawkwardartist12 @moon-wrecked @unknownforknown @nimata-beroya @littlemissmanga @merkitty49 @l-lend @wreckers-wife@kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @the-good-shittt @imalovernotahater @crystal076 @blustalker @s1st3r @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness

[allisonreader]

Here's the start of my @inklings-challenge story this year. Hopefully I'll be able to finish it, but as of the moment I'm stuck and still not fully sure of what the theme will end up being. Anyways I present the rough start of my story.

V.C.C.S- Vector Climate Control System

It was a cold blustery type of day like they hadn’t had in a while. It was a forbidding omen of the changing seasons as old ripped propaganda poster flapped with each gust of wind. The faded words speaking of the Vector Climate Control System still legible.

It always surprised him just how many posters and old billboards remained, proclaiming the wonders of how the VCCS was going to change the world for the better.

He pulled up his coat collar to try and block some of the wind as he made his way home from work. He’d have to remember a heavier coat with a hood in the coming days.

The wind was going to make his face as red as his hair with the way it was whipping through the buildings around him. The wind was gusting hard enough to rip down an old flyer and try to blind him with it. He huffed as he read it.

*A Revolutionary New World Is Coming! The Vector Climate Control System will eliminate the question of "what will the weather be like today?"

Once the V.C.C.S. is employed extreme weather will be curbed. No more droughts! No more hurricanes! No more tornadoes! No more blizzards!

Extreme weather will be controlled and moved where it is most needed and is safely out of the way.*

There was more that he could have read, but he didn’t need to. He scrunched up the flyer to dispose of it at home, putting it in his pocket until then.

He knew all about VCCS as they had learned all about it school. They had been taught all about the seven circuits of nine towers. How each system worked both in its own little loop as well as within the entire system.

But also how it failed.

There were both political reasons as well as technical factors. As the system did not work as intended or expected. Making a bigger mess than if it had never been set in place.

The towers still remained as they were too large to demolish with any ease. Finally he made it to the warmth of his home.

"Hey there Delilah, I’m home!" he called out upon entering.

"I hear you!" Delilah called back, coming out from the kitchen a couple minutes later. Which had given him a chance to remove his coat and take the flyer from his pocket, ready to recycle.

"Oh! Jake! You’re as red as your hair!" Delilah exclaimed, putting both of her hands on his; as expected, red cheeks. "What do you have there?" she asked when she felt the wad of paper in his hands as he hugged her.

"It’s nothing important. Just one of those old VCCS flyers that tried attacking me in the wind," he said.

"Well that was rather mean of it, after everything else that happened with that."

"Hmm, at least now there will be one less flyer littering up the place about it."

"There’s that I guess," said Delilah. "Let’s get you warmed up properly."

🌤️🌩️🌨️🌧️☀️⛈️🌪️❄️💨💦🌊

Over the next few days the weather grew more intense, more wild and unpredictable, until the weather casters were starting to speculate that there was a malfunction of one of the towers a part of the VCCS.

Complaints about the suspected malfunction grew day by day as the weather continued to get increasingly worse and more wild. Wind was practically nonstop and rain, sleet, and snow cycled through without a rhyme or a reason. Other than harsh winds, you never knew what you were going to get.

The weather casters were speculating/observing that from what weather conditions and patterns there were that it appeared to only be the one tower in the system acting up and it was the one closest to us. Which was still many kilometres away from where we were.

Messages were sent to those who managed the towers to see what was happening with the tower and what was going to be done about it. No response was ever received from anyone who anyone tried to contact. No one wanted to deal with the malfunctioning tower that was supposed to be shut down.

The weather grew worse until he was unable to walk to work anymore. Not that Delilah wanted either of them to go out in this wild and unpredictable weather.

[cuubism]

The Apocalypse Is Nigh!

(AO3)

As a resident of the Dreaming, Matthew didn’t get nightmares anymore. But he thought he might be in one now. A waking nightmare of his own creation.

The thoughts wouldn’t stop swirling. Had he been this neurotic in his first life? Couldn’t have been. Maybe it was a working-for-Dream special.

“Oh no,” he muttered, pacing across the library table, “oh no, oh no, it’s bad, it’s allllll gonna be bad.”

The realization had hit him last week. Hob had gotten sick – just a cold, not that that had comforted Morpheus At All – and on the day he had a fever there had been wildfires in the Dreaming. Wildfires! What the fuck! Constant wildfires and smoke despite the fact that Matthew told Morpheus at least fifty times that it was JUST. A. COLD.

Thus, the revelation: if something truly bad ever happened to Hob, Dream was clearly going to light the whole place up and vanish the fire extinguishers. Not that they had fire extinguishers.

And when Hob died? Cataclysm. The end of all things. Morpheus would implode and take the whole fuckin’ Dreaming with him.

Matthew didn’t actually know Hob that well. He saw him whenever he chased Morpheus down in the waking world. He seemed nice enough, even if there was something a little weird about him in comparison to the incredibly normal guy thing he had going on otherwise. He and Morpheus had known each other for “a long time,” whatever that meant. Oh, and they were obsessed with each other.

That was all Matthew really knew. He had a feeling if he tried to find out any more he would start hearing things he really didn’t want to hear.

One thing Matthew did know: Hob was human. And humans died, as Matthew knew from unfortunately personal experience.

Hence the upcoming apocalypse. The entire existence of the Dreaming was resting on a ticking time bomb.

“Oh this is bad, this is bad, this is bad bad bad bad bad bad bad—”

“Matthew,” Lucienne admonished, gesturing at the book she was trying to read.

“Quit yer yammering!” Mervyn yelled from the other end of the reading room, far less diplomatic.

Matthew kept pacing, claws clacking on the tabletop, and Lucienne sighed, pushing her glasses down to look at him. “What.”

All of the thoughts that had been swirling around Matthew’s head for days came tumbling out. “Okay, so—”

Lucienne sighed, settling in for a ramble.

“—you know how when Morpheus gets upset it rains and storms and shit?”

“I have been here a rather long time, Matthew.”

“Right, and like, it’s so much worse when it’s about Hob, just blizzards and— fuck, he missed one date because he had a ‘diplomatic incident’ and we had fog for weeks! I couldn’t see shit!”

“Yes, it’s always worse when Lord Morpheus is deeply invested in someone,” said Lucienne, with a tone that suggested get to the point. “If anything, it is better with Hob. He’s good at calming him down.”

That was a frightening thought. “So what the fuck is going to happen to us if Hob dies? And I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, obviously I also don’t want Hob to die because, you know, he seems like a good guy and all, but I’d also like our way of life as we know it to not collapse into oblivion! You know what I’m saying?”

Matthew was out of breath after this tirade, but Lucienne’s brow just furrowed. “Why would Hob die?”

“I don’t know! The point is, the Dreaming will most definitely become a black hole ripping everything around it into atoms, including us! I don’t want to become raven spaghetti!”

Lucienne looked back down at her book. “I don’t think you have to worry too much about that, Matthew.”

It was a clear dismissal, which Matthew did not get because wasn’t this a big deal?

“But—”

“Matthew, I promise you, don’t worry about it.”

Matthew was going to worry about it. Actually, Matthew was more worried about it now.

He was going to have to do something to prevent their world from falling into oblivion.

Better get to work.

---

“Alright, listen up, team!” Matthew cawed to the handful of dreams and nightmares gathered around him. “Most of you guys were here before me. What was it like last time Lord Morpheus had a catastrophic relationship failure?”

“Bad,” said a tiny dream in the shape of a mouse.

“Thanks. Very helpful,” Matthew muttered. “Wanna offer any specifics? Did the world end?”

“Yes,” said a ghost-like nightmare, rolling its eyes. “The world ended. This is just a collective hallucination.”

“Technically, it is a collective hallucination,” said another nightmare that looked kind of like… a computer? Matthew hadn’t even been aware Morpheus knew what computers were.

Some of the other dreams snickered.

“Hey!” Matthew squawked. “This is serious. You’re aware he’s dating a human, right? If breakups were bad, how do you think that will end?”

The collected dreams were silent.

“Eternal night!” Matthew yelled. “Doom and gloom! Tartarus in the depths of Hell! Thunder and lightning very very frightening! Do you want that? I don’t!”

“What are we supposed to do, though?” asked the little mouse dream. “Humans always die.”

“I don’t know yet, that’s why we’re here,” said Matthew, flapping his wings in agitation. “Um. Make an ark for when the Dreaming becomes Water World, maybe? Or uh. Clone Hob? No, that’s weird… Maybe we can get him an emotional support cat or something?”

“Mervyn says Hob is already an emotional support human,” whistled a dream that looked like, and was the size of, an entire forest.

“Fuck.”

“If he’s sad,” sang a music-box dream in its childlike voice, “maybe we should cheer him up!”

Matthew snorted. “How are supposed to cheer up Mister Emo King himself?”

The music-box trilled. “Everybody likes music!”

“And puppies!” yapped a Labrador Retriever.

“Sparkles?” said a dream that was just a floating star.

Matthew was feeling extremely dubious about any of these things being able to cheer up the most gothic depressed person he’d ever met, but it was going to have to do.

“Alright, guys,” he announced, clapping his wings, “here’s the plan. You all have to try to make Lord Morpheus as happy as possible so he won’t go fucking berserk when his human dies. But! Be subtle. Don’t let him know what you’re doing. And for the love of all that is holy Do. Not. Mention. The. H. Word.”

“Hell?” said a toddler dream, scratching her nose.

“No!!! Hob!!!” Matthew scrubbed a wing over his beak. “We’re all gonna fucking die.”

--

“Matthew,” said Morpheus, as Matthew flew in a high window in the throne room and landed on the step where Morpheus was sitting. “What… is this? One of the baby dreams gave it to me.”

He was holding a paper cutout heart with a rainbow drawn on it in crayon, and the words, the sun will come out tomorrow! :)

“It’s a heart,” Matthew said. Yeah, this was… not exactly what he was envisioning for this plan. Oh, dear.

Morpheus cast him a derisive look. “I am aware. Why?”

“Because it’s… got two round sides and a point?”

Morpheus sighed, tucking the paper heart inside his coat. “Have I given the dreams reason to believe I am upset with them?” He actually sounded genuinely concerned about it. “Why do they feel the need to pacify me in this way?”

“You think they’re pacifying you?” For all that that… was kind of the idea, it was making Matthew feel bad now. Especially because Lord Morpheus seemed upset at the idea that he might have hurt the dreams unknowingly. As far as Matthew had learned from Lucienne, this was somewhat of a recent development for him, and the last thing Matthew wanted was to… fuck around with his emotional growth, such as it were.

“It is not the first such item I have received recently,” Morpheus said, face still set in a considering frown. “I do not understand what else they might be doing.”

Which was… kind of sad, to be honest, even if he was right. Had he ever gotten a card? Matthew wondered. Just like, a get well soon card when he was feeling down?

Then again, it was possible he would have smited anyone who tried, in the past.

“Maybe they just thought you were sad, and wanted you to be happy?” Matthew suggested, and internally cringed. God, he was just making it worse and worse, letting the lies spin out of control. But bringing up the truth, and thus Hob’s inevitable death, was not an option here.

“Hmm. Perhaps.” He did not sound very convinced. A little disturbed, actually. “Will you find out what they are thinking, Matthew?”

“Yep!” Matthew squeaked. “I’ll keep an eye out!”

Welp. Now he was fucked in two directions.

--

It only got worse from there. Dreams and nightmares started coming to talk to Morpheus in a steady stream, some bringing music or flowers, some starlight or ocean waves, some cards and art pieces. Morpheus became increasingly confused with each gift; Matthew could see it on his face. He didn’t seem upset, per se. Just perplexed.

The only one who was able to get an actual, not-confused smile out of Dream was the Corinthian of all people. His card had a creepy smiley face and the words BE JOYFUL. THAT IS A THREAT in blood red dripping font. Morpheus’s lips quirked up looking at it.

Matthew wanted to scratch the Corinthian’s non-eyes out with his claws. That was not the point goddammit!!

There were even more audiences happening now.

“I love you, Lord Morpheus!” yelled a dream of a bunch of swirling hearts, hovering before Morpheus where he was sitting on the throne room steps.

Morpheus’s brow pinched. “Thank… you,” he said slowly, a question in it.

The hearts glittered and disappeared.

Another little dream, this one a living teddy bear, took its place. “Please, please, Your Highness!” it pleaded. Matthew was starting to feel manipulative for involving the quasi-children in this scheme. “Please don’t destroy the Dreaming!”

So much for being fucking subtle.

Morpheus stared down at the tiny bear. Matthew could practically see the swirls of confusion going around his head. “I assure you, little one, I have no intention of doing so.”

The bear beamed, saluted him, and disappeared.

Morpheus slumped on the stairs, looking exhausted. “Were you able to determine what this is about?” he asked Matthew.

Matthew opened his beak to respond, though there were no words readily available. “Uhhhhhh……”

It was, perhaps, fitting, that he was saved by the very problem he was trying to avert.

“Dream?”

Dream perked up, looking over at Hob, who’d appeared in the center of the throne room. Hob smiled at him, and Dream softened.

“Hob.” He sounded relieved.

Matthew had thought humans weren’t supposed to be able to get into the palace, but Morpheus obviously wasn’t going to kick out his own boyfriend. Or… whatever they were.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, love.” Hob sat beside Morpheus on the stairs. “Something the matter?”

Matthew was pretty sure he was supposed to leave now.

As he winged his way back out of the throne room, he heard Morpheus start to say, “Things have been… strange…”

No doubt about it, this was a right mess. But it also only confirmed Matthew’s point.

What the fuck were they all going to do when Hob died?

--

Morpheus’s resulting good mood had lasted a few days, and then the dreams had arrived in force again carrying cards and flowers and chocolates of all things, and Matthew could see him becoming more confused and concerned by the hour. Clearly, this wasn’t working, but he’d yet to be able to think of anything else.

It was also why he was currently being cornered by Lucienne.

“Matthew,” she admonished, arms crossed. “Why are you messing around with the weather?”

“I don’t control the weather!” Matthew said, guiltily.

“Why are you messing around with Lord Morpheus’s feelings, then? Everything’s been fine for ages and now it’s raining upwards, and I know somehow you are to blame.”

“Listen,” Matthew defended himself in a rush, “we aren’t trying to make him upset, I swear to God— gods— are there gods?— whatever— we’re actually trying to make him less upset.”

Lucienne stared at him as if he was an idiot. “‘We’? And I wasn’t aware he was upset. Actually, he is shockingly not upset, for once. Or was.”

“He’s not upset now,” Matthew said. “I think he’s just confused.”

Lucienne pinched at her brow, squeezing her eyes shut. “Explain.”

“You remember what I said about Lord Morpheus nuking the Dreaming if Hob dies?”

“Not this again—”

“Well, we started, uh. Like. Trying to head that off. Sort of. You know. Convince him that it’ll all be okay, and so on.”

Lucienne groaned. “Matthew, Hob is not going to kill himself! I don’t know why you are so set on this.”

Matthew never said he would kill himself. Jesus Christ. That wasn’t the only way to die.

“We just have to plan for every eventuality,” he said.

“Plan in your head if you must. But I ask you to please refrain from discussing any possibility of Hob dying around Lord Morpheus. You’re going to freak him out.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fucking idiot,” Matthew said, even though she definitely thought he was one.

“And stop whatever scheme this is at once. You are not helping.”

“Someone’s gotta do something!”

“Why don’t we cross that bridge when we come to it, instead of now,” said Lucienne sternly, and walked away.

Truthfully, Matthew wasn’t sure it was possible to unravel this plan now. There were too many people in on it. Oh what a tangled web we weave and so on.

He’d figure it out. Eventually he’d figure it out. The fate of all their lives depended on it.

--

The next time Matthew ran into Hob, he was sitting in the Dreaming library, reading a book. He was also sipping tea, though Matthew had no clue where he had gotten it.

Matthew had been getting increasingly nervous as weeks went by and Lord Morpheus seemed no closer to benefiting from their cheer him up scheme. Might as well get help from the Font of All Dream’s Joy if he could.

“Hey, Hob.” Matthew perched beside him. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Uh, yeah,” Hob said, looking up from his book and casting a light smile on Matthew. “Shoot.”

Matthew didn’t know exactly what Dream saw in Hob. Not because there was anything wrong with Hob! He just seemed like kind of a random choice for The Collective Unconscious to date. Although, from what Matthew had heard, Morpheus’s dating track record was pretty atrocious, so maybe it wasn’t the worst thing if he’d chosen some normal guy who seemed to mostly have his shit together.

Hob did have a certain gravity to him, a settled character that Matthew didn’t recall seeing in anyone he had met in life. That was one unique thing he had picked up on.

“Try not to die anytime soon,” Matthew told him.

Hob laughed, head tipping back. “That’s a good one.”

Matthew stared at him. Why was no one taking this seriously?!? Even Hob wouldn’t take his own death seriously?

“It’s just, you know, I think Lord Morpheus would be pretty devastated if you did,” Matthew explained.

Hob softened, looking at him more gently. “I’m not planning on it, Matthew. I promise you.”

“Okay. Good. Great. Thanks. It’s just. These things aren’t always in our control. Case in point—” Matthew gestured to himself with his wing “—me.”

Hob tilted his head, looking at him strangely. “Do you—?” he started, then cut himself off with a tiny quirk of the lips. “Never mind. Dream says everyone’s been acting weirdly, do you know why?”

“Nope!” Matthew yelled, and high-tailed it out of there. “See you later, Hob!”

He could swear he heard Hob laughing behind him.

--

Somehow, after that, it got worse.

Or better, depending on how one looked at it. Matthew was looking at it as worse, because he was realizing just how far the lie had spread.

They were once again in the throne room, Lord Morpheus standing this time, and looking at a dream that was simply a dark hole in the ground.

Matthew knew the dreams and nightmares were more comprehensive when they were working. That they crafted whole worlds in dreamers’ minds, that they represented moments like a child’s first steps, or feelings like despair. They simply took a more physical form to move about the Dreaming.

This was a dream about grief. Matthew didn’t know how he knew that. Apparently, dream intuition came with the job.

And yet, Morpheus was smiling at it.

“Penthos,” he greeted. “What brings you here?”

This dream was old, Matthew knew in the way he’d sensed the Corinthian was old – although it felt considerably less malicious than him. Morpheus seemed to have some kind of rapport with it in the way he did with most of the very very old dreams. Matthew wondered when he had crafted it, and why.

“My Lord,” replied Penthos, offering some kind of impression of a bow that should have been impossible for a hole. Its voice was hushed, the sound of falling earth. “Only counsel. If I may be so bold.”

Lord Morpheus sat down at its side, crossing his legs. “Go on.”

He seemed to find some measure of comfort or familiarity in the dream’s presence, if the easy expression on his face was any indication. Matthew wondered at it.

“You made me to be darkness, to be soil,” said Penthos in its warm, low voice. “I was the cold of the underground, then. Bottomless. But. I have learned that the earth is also warm. A blanket of organic matter. And life trundles through it, always.”

Matthew didn't know what the fuck kind of counsel that was.

But Lord Morpheus only smiled again. He passed a hand through the essence of the dream, bringing up soil that stained his fingers, crumbled in his palm. “I understand what you mean,” he said. “Thank you.”

Well, as long as he understood it.

The dream bowed again – sort of – and disappeared.

Lord Morpheus let the soil fall between his fingers to the throne room floor. He pulled that first heart-shaped card from within his coat, touching the writing with a light fingertip. “It is kindness,” he declared, as if it was a revelation.

It made Matthew feel kind of bad that it had taken him this long to absorb kindness from this whole thing. Even if, well. It was just a teensy bit fake.

“Seems like it, boss,” he squeaked.

Morpheus hummed, and the throne room rose in temperature until it felt like a comfortable late spring afternoon, instead of the slight chill that had been there before. Matthew was pretty sure he could smell flowers somewhere, and cookies baking or something.

“Kindness,” Lord Morpheus repeated, a soft look in his eyes, before he stood from the floor and tucked the little card back into his coat, then disappeared from the throne room, Matthew didn’t know where to.

Yeah, Matthew was definitely going to hell. He didn’t know how, but he was.

--

Lucienne was banging her head on the library table. “He’s happy,” she wailed. “He feels loved.”

“That’s not bad, though, is it?” said Matthew, hopping nervously. The rainbow shining through the window looked down at him judgmentally.

Lucienne cast him a killer glare. “You manipulated him into it, Matthew!”

“Look,” Matthew said, “do I feel like shit for this? Yeah. One hundred percent. But he’s actually happy, isn’t he? Why don’t we all pretend that was the goal here all along.”

“It was the goal, technically speaking,” said Lucienne, still seeming very cross. “Just not for altruistic reasons.”

“Okay, yeah, granted, but still, I think we should all just pretend it’s his birthday. Or fuckin’… Valentine’s Day. Dream King’s Day? You know, like Mother’s Day, or—”

“Enough,” Lucienne interrupted. “I will keep your secret, Matthew. But I do not like it at all.”

The thing about secrets, though, was they had a tendency to unravel. It seemed inevitable that one of the younger dreams would spill the beans sooner or later.

So Matthew resigned himself to recruiting the one person who was really not supposed to know about this, possibly even more so than Morpheus himself.

Hob Gadling.

--

He found Hob doing work at the table in the New Inn where he and Morpheus often met in the waking world. Matthew landed across from him and said, without preamble, “I fucked up.”

Hob looked up at him, lips twisting in a wry smile. “Is this about me dying?”

“Yeah, it’s— wait how do you know about that? I mean, it’s, uh—”

Hob leaned his head on one hand. “You know, I was going to draw this out longer for my own amusement, but I’m starting to worry it’s heading in an unsavory direction. I can’t die, Matthew.”

“Uh,” said Matthew eloquently. “What.”

“I’m immortal. And, you know, I’m touched that you don’t want Dream to be hurt. But you don’t have to worry about it, not from this angle, anyway.”

“Don’t want him to be hurt,” Matthew echoed, feeling like a complete and utter jerk. “Yep. Exactly. Wait, you’re immortal? How did no one tell me?”

Hob tapped his lip with the end of his pen. “Well, how exactly did you think I even knew Dream, if I was mortal? He was imprisoned since 1916, right up until you and I met.”

“Uh.” Matthew’s brain spun like a stalled-out cursor in his head. “I didn’t think.”

Hob shook his head in amusement.

“How long have you known each other, then?”

“A long time,” said Hob.

“Very descriptive,” Matthew said, and Hob winked.

“Have to preserve some mystery, eh?”

“You’re almost as bad as Dream,” Matthew grumbled, which Hob seemed to take as a compliment. “How did you meet a long time ago, then? I’m very perplexed by how one comes to date Morpheus of all… entities.”

“He strolled up to me in a tavern one night and asked me on a date,” Hob said, a twinkle in his eye.

“Wait,” said Matthew, head spinning. “Morpheus. Our Morpheus. King of Shapes and yadda yadda yadda spoke to you, a stranger, willingly, to ASK YOU ON A DATE?”

“He manages it once in a while,” Hob told him. Matthew got the sense he wasn’t getting the full story here, but even the part he was getting was hard to believe.

“He gets five minutes of normal human interaction per millennium?” he guessed faintly.

Hob smiled, fondness in his eyes. “Oh, it was definitely not normal.”

“Now I gotta know,” said Matthew, and if he were still human-shaped he’d be leaning on his hands, settling in for a story. “What was he like then? Same as now?”

“No.” Whatever first thought flashed across Hob’s face was definitely not safe-for-work, or even safe for Matthew’s admittedly gutter-filth brain. He really really REALLY didn’t wanna know any of those thoughts about his uptight boss. But Hob’s smile remained fond, and he said, “He was cute. Princely little thing. I thought he was very peculiar, or some kind of fey creature, maybe. But the type that you want to trade your soul to, just to look for a little longer. Stuck in my head for a while after that.”

On second thought, maybe Matthew would rather hear the explicit sexual fantasies. “Cute,” he echoed, short-circuiting. “You thought the incarnation of all nightmarish horrors was cute.”

Hob shrugged, took a sip of his beer. “And other things. He’s still cute.”

“And other things,” Matthew guessed.

Hob just winked at him again.

“Welp,” Matthew said. “Thanks, Hob. This has been… very illuminating…” This whole thing was even closer to going wrong six ways to Sunday than Matthew had anticipated. “I’m just gonna go fix some things now before Lord Morpheus—”

“Hob Gadling.”

Yep. Matthew’s death was imminent.

Morpheus strode past him as if he wasn’t even there and crouched by Hob’s side, laying a hand on his knee. His brow was pinched, and he was practically vibrating with concern. “You are unwell? I have heard that…” he trailed off uncertainly, dark eyes tracking over Hob’s face.

Matthew could just picture one of the blabbermouth dreams telling him something like, It’s really sad that Hob’s going to die, Lord Morpheus, and scaring the shit out of him. He was seriously considering flying headfirst into a window.

Hob shot a disapproving glance at Matthew, and Matthew ducked his head.

“I think it was just a misunderstanding, love,” Hob told Morpheus, cradling his cheek. “Some of your subjects—” Matthew was going to owe him one for not implicating him directly in this— “weren’t aware I was immortal. They were concerned.”

“Ah.” Morpheus’s posture eased. “That… explains much. They have been… unusually kind to me, lately.”

Hob’s expression pinched, and Matthew winced. Yeah, it sounded particularly sad when he put it like that. It was fortunate Hob wasn’t aware of the real reasons behind this scheme. Matthew had a feeling he wouldn’t take kindly to them offering Morpheus kindness out of purely— not selfish, exactly, as Matthew really didn’t think there was anything wrong with not wanting the god-being that created your universe to destroy it, okay— but reasons that definitely weren’t focusing on Morpheus’s best interests.

“Do you think they were genuine?” Morpheus asked Hob. “They meant it?”

“‘Course they did,” Hob said firmly, though he had no way of knowing. And as Matthew thought about it, he realized Hob was probably right. He’d bet if he asked the dreams if, even without the imminent destruction of their world, they wanted Morpheus to be happy, they’d say yes. They did care. Morpheus just… hadn’t given them much occasion to show it, in the past. “They want to see you happy. Just like I do.”

Morpheus smiled. “Perhaps not just like you do.”

Hob grinned, a rakish sort of thing. “Yeah, maybe not just like.”

Ick. Matthew had to get out of here.

He spread his wings to do so, and Lord Morpheus seemed to finally realize he was there. He turned to Matthew. “Matthew. You came to ensure Hob’s well-being. I thank you.”

“Yep,” said Matthew, only hopping nervously a little, “one hundred percent. Definitely. Definitely why I was here. Nooooo problem. I’ll just head back to the Dreaming now and leave you guys to it.”

He flew up to the nearest window ledge, perching there for a moment. Down below, Morpheus sat beside Hob and pulled a few of the cards from within his coat. He showed them to Hob, reverence in the way he held the simple paper cutouts. “Look.”

Yeah, Matthew couldn’t bring himself to ruin this for him. He was going to have to make Dream King’s Day an annual holiday to pave over this fuckup.

He left for the Dreaming as Hob kissed Morpheus on the forehead, holding his hands gently over the cards.

--

The Corinthian was lounging on the throne room steps, sucking on a lollipop, when Matthew swooped back in. Matthew was pretty sure he was not supposed to be there.

“Did he like my card?” he asked idly as Matthew landed in front of him. “I could send flowers, too, if you want.”

“Your help was neither wanted or appreciated,” Matthew informed him.

The Corinthian grinned. “He liked it, didn’t he.”

Matthew didn’t bother responding, just puffed up his feathers in indignation.

“I enjoyed this scheme,” the Corinthian informed him, sticking the lollipop into his cheek to talk around it. “Fun. Maniacal. Welcome to the life of crime, Matthew.”

“Listen here, asshole,” Matthew snapped. “I’ve been in the life of crime! I’m supposed to be turning a corner and I won’t be sucked back in, capische? As far as we’re all concerned, we all just want Morpheus to be happy, okay?”

“Oh, sure, sure. It’s just, it would be so easy to pull the rug out from under him, you know? Show him how self-interested all that love was…”

“I don’t know, because we’re not doing that!” Matthew said. “Besides, you’re one to talk.”

The lollipop cracked between the Corinthian’s teeth. His voice was the crackle of just-hardened candy. “I assure you. My love is not about protecting the Dreaming. I would welcome the cataclysm.”

Matthew shivered. “Creep. You better not make things worse.”

“Your definition of worse is not the same as mine, my friend,” said the Corinthian.

Before Matthew could retort, we aren’t friends, the Corinthian tossed the lollipop stick off somewhere and stood, stretching.

“Let me know next time you want to do something like this, I’d love to be more involved,” he said, and strode off down the hall.

“THERE WON’T BE A NEXT TIME!” Matthew yelled at his retreating back, then groaned, covering his head with his wings in aggravation.

Why was he getting the sense there’d be a whole new apocalypse to head off sooner rather than later? The place was just rife with them.

Welp. Better get to work on it.

[ask-sibverse]

for the ask meme, a stolen kiss reader x swap papyrus

Oh hell yes we're getting a Paps!

"you look like shit."

You looked up to see Stretch in the doorway, watching you. You'd ended up with a bad cold after you and the Stars ended up in a blizzard while trying to protect that AU's Snowdin. One of these days you'd actually remember to bring proper snow gear, but it was hard to figure out when you'd need it or not. Lucky skeletons with their immunity to temperature and no immune system to worry about.

"Fleshy humans don't handle cold and wet very well," you grumbled, laying back on the couch. At least out in the living room you could watch TV better and it was less work to get to the kitchen when you actually felt up to eating something.

"Bro wants me to look after you today," Stretch said, stepping into your apartment some more. He looked around. "Have you been living out of your living room?"

"Closer to everything." You ended up having a bit of a coughing fit, making Stretch look at you with concern.

"I have an entire list from Blue of things I'm supposed to do for you." You both laughed a bit at that. "First on the list is soup."

"I've got canned soup in the cupboard you don't have to go all Blue and make it from scratch."

Stretch nodded, making his way into the kitchen. He spent the day looking after you, but in the lazy, casual way you'd come to know and expect from him. Bundled up in blankets on the couch, watching TV together while Stretch cracked the occasional lame pun. You closed your eyes, dozing off for a bit. Being sick was exhausting.

At some point you started waking up, but eyes remained closed, too comfortable to truly start getting up.

"stars you're absolutely angelic asleep," Stretch said softly. He must not have realized you'd started waking up. "Forgive me, but I can't resist you like this." Bony teeth gently pressed against your lips before quickly disappearing. A kiss...?

[franki-lew-yo]

Speaking as a proud monster lubber who also prefers his beast look because no duh...I'm really tired of the passive but somehow unironic fans of Beauty and the Beast dragging the Beast's human look.

Firstly, he's not really all that ugly. He just needs more facial hair and chonk, especially to differenciate him from Tarzan. I know the "can you maybe grow a beard" line was added for the crapremake, but he legit would be fixed with just a few changes. It's like giving Elktaur a nose. It's really not that big a cosmetic different when you get down to it.

first pass edits (top:made eyes less sad and more happyBeast mode; bottom:begins changes)

Added: top chonk, thick eyebrows, beard like how god intended. sideburns, dilf energy. +Keeps deep(er, than regular) voice. Face the facts. +darker dirty blonde, though not nearly as dark as Belle's hair, so he stands out.

Upsides: is more obviously the Beast so people can shut up now about this guy "replacing" Belle's beast ++enough boys lets bring in the men. Coulda been our original Kristoff.

Downside: would def be babymipped into Christian art as a prettyboy Jesus.

The problem with the Human!Beast's design, as those before me have already said, is that he looks ruggardly handsome but standard and it feels like a different character because of that when it was the Beast that Belle and the audience fell in love with.

It's a bad design in lieu of what came before for him. That's it. Enough with your unironic "he should have stayed a beast"-bs. Same goes with that "Rapunzel looks better with long hair" or "Ariel looked better as a mermaid" garbage. Yeah, yeah and Jack Skellington's Christmas was better because it was "more fun". Even in animation where crap that you're expected to be endeared to somewhat despite it being weird in universe to the other characters, you are fundamentally missing the point of the story to ignore that.

Disney Beast is a spoiled crybaby manchild who made the mistake of crossing a fae on her bad day as a teenager, and now had to forever walk around with the ugliness he was and was in threat of becoming forever. He did not want this body. He is trapped in it and has decided to just never get better and be his worst self because of it- he even screams at Belle for almost touching his stuff and goes to save her because it's his fault she just ran out into a wolf-infested blizzard. Gotta love how ya'll only are annoyed with the beast's actions when he's a hawt beautiful glen keane monster and not his true self; a pretty boi spoiled manchild. Aww. You learned nothing.

Speaking of Centaurworld again, this is not a situation where the main character needs to learn to accept his new body as Horse does in that show. This is not the end of How to Train your Dragon where sometimes life sucks and you loose a leg and it's kind of devastating yeah dysphoria amIright-- the Beast did not need to learn to accept his body he needed to learn to accept himself. To be a better person.

Just to be my own kind of pettynontake-All the servant's human designs kick ass and look incredible. They're the true victims of this circumstance. Prince Adam not being your monster bf anymore is a sacrifice worth making for their sake.

[lostsoulofdragon]

Fae!AU Drabble

hello there :) I just wanted to share a small Drabble about the @valrayne-faeu [by @antlered-knight and @owl-bones] because I have suffered great brain rot by their AU

story is under the cut, please let me know what you think :)

The gala

Soul turned away from the loud gala. To many faes, to loud, to fast. She didn’t look back as she passed Nightmare, instead kept her head down and wings courtly folded behind her to avoid touching others.

Dodging a swallowing tail fae with reindeer like antlers, Souls eyes went to the doors leading outside. 

An exit. A much needed exit. 

There would be less summer fae out there, and she’d have some space to herself rather than the crowded dining hall she was currently walking through.

The hall was lit by flame less lanterns which emitted both warm light, and warmth- something that Soul had ached for when she turned fae. She’d stuffed her room with at least seven of these AND a fireplace running on end until she’d developed her current resistance to cold.

The marble floor made her shoes click quietly when she took a step, and with everyone else in here, that made up a symphony of steps and clicks and taps. 

The high ceiling represented the night sky outside, and the many carpets on the walls made it seem as if said night sky hung down the walls. The carpets were grand, like- gigantic. Soul could probably fit her entire old village onto a single one of them. But they had to be big, and thick, to keep the warmth inside the ball room.

Cooling air rushed over Souls cheeks. Ah- that already felt better. She bowed her head at the peacock butterfly far that held the doors open for her, and folded her hands in her lap.

The woman wore her one of her best outfits for tonight- out of politeness, really. A furry scarf, white as snow, which matched her short hair. A black cloak hid her torso, a blue blouse, and various pockets filled with various trinkets. Of course, Soul wore her gloves, and rings above it. A simple black pair of trousers were tucked into her high boots.

Soul reached up her left hand as a ‘triii’ sounded through the cold air. The black and white falcon shed raised and trained darted over the heads of the few fae outside, safely landing on Souls arm, hoping over to her shoulder to nuzzle its head against her cheek.

Soul chuckled. “Hey there, Blizzard. Anything new?”

The bird trilled. Soul smiled. Of course she couldn’t understand the bird- but the falcon would bring her traces of magic in case anything happened. As the bird made no motion to fly off again, and instead began preening its wings, she resumed her walking. 

“… why do I have to attend this gala anyway? I am royal falconer and fancier, yes, but I barely manage any of the important stuff. Maybe it’s etiquette- on second though it probably is to have EVERYONE attend a gala BOTH kings can be found at. But won’t that raise the stakes of an assassination-“

A weight lifted from Souls shoulder as Blizzard darted off into the sky. Then, she felt how another body collided with hers, effectively knocking her down-

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

… this wasn’t the snow beneath her. Soul blinked her eyes open. The fae she ran into held her up by her shoulders, giving her an apologetic smile.

Soul had never seen a fae like this.

Blond hair covered her eyes, and her skin was only a bit darker then Souls. She wore a cream Lolita winter dress with a shawl and a small black bow on its front. The shawls triangular shape covered the woman’s wing roots, that had yet to break open- a human. Well- half human. Their dress had a wide belt she’d tied into a bow, and fur on the inside to keep her warm.

A singular horn penetrated from her forehead, and her legs were those of a horse by what Soul could tell. She stepped back.

“Oh, it’s- it’s fine.”

Something about this fae struck Soul as… weirdly familiar. Maybe it was just that both were humans turning fae.

The summer fae shifted, reached up to rub at one of her ears. Soul recognized that tick and almost chuckled.

“… what may I call you?” Soul asked the other one, carefully choosing her words as to come off not threatening. 

“… Lei.” “That’s a nice name.”

Lei smiled. She had no fangs, so she couldn’t have been tricked too long ago. “How about you?”

“…” As always, Soul thought of the name she’d give the other one. What if she gave ‘Soul’ to too many of them? Would she get wrapped up in promises she couldn’t get out of- stop. She cleared her throat.

“Please call me Soul.” The other fae smiled.

"Of course I will."

Soul raised an eyebrow. Lei had turned recently, so she didn't know too much about wordplays yet. Well, Soul wouldn't hold it against her.

Something familiar hung over the two. Neither of them knew what it was, but something was there. Soul offered a smile, and soon enough, the two found themselves on a stroll through the garden, chatting loudly about their own experiences of turning.

"And when I found the first white hair, I just thought I was getting old. Can you believe it?" "Actually, I can."

Laughter. "I saw you carrying a... falcon, was it?- earlier. Before we ran into each other, I mean- what was that about?" Lei asked.

"Oh, I'm just-" She was cut short by a high, melodic voice.

"Lei- ah, there you are!"

Soul and Lei turned. Before them stood-

Oh. Before them stood a skeleton with a wide smile, although it seemed a bit strained. His bright wings were stiffly held upwards, unmoving- like Nightmares wings whenever he went into publicity. Only that he didn’t… display them like THAT.

Golden designs were painted on his bones, and he wore a golden and white robe that covered most his body. His wrists and hands were visible, and he wore high boots from what Soul could tell. Despite the positive aura surrounding him, Soul couldn't shake the feeling of unease.

Lei on the other hand was fast to step closer to the skeleton. Her eyes were bright, and her fingers twitched as if she wanted to reach out to the fae.

"Peiscos." She bowed.

Soul felt her ears flatten. Well that wasn't good. She glanced aside, back at the male fae, and then gave a small bow herself. This... wasn't HER king. She was not obligated to pay him the same respect as Nightmare- right? No. Yes. Maybe? She wanted to scream.

With a nervous smile, the falconer looked back up again. The king was first to speak, luckily.

"Lei, why don't you introduce me to your friend?" Ah, good. Soul wouldn't have to fear for her name.

"Oh, yes. Peiscos, this is Miss Soul. Soul, this is the Summer Monarch."

She wanted to say something, but when she considered these words, a small wave of nausea overcame her. Oh, how cruel it was to loose the ability to lie. "It's... an honor to meet you, your majesty."

Ha, take that, weird magic that bound her words. Sometimes, Soul wished she was mute.

His... eyes were unnerving. Why did they bore into her like this? Why did this fae observe her like she observed the distant clouds, scanning for storms-

"Brother."

Soul felt a cold, clawed hand on her shoulder, and she froze up. Oh dear. Why was he here?

She turned her head, and looked up to the one-eyed king behind her. Her stomach dropped at his gaze- that was not a good one. Sure, he might be smiling, but Soul knew better then to fall for that. She swallowed thickly.

"Ah. Nightmare. It has been a while, hasn't it?" Peiscos voice dropped.

That twitch of Nightmares wings was more than enough signal for Soul. With an awkward smile, she broke the silence. "Forgive me, gentlemen, for I need to check up on a few of my carrier birds."

She did. Just not right now- but that information was not be withheld from them.

And unnecessary anyways, as Nightmares grasp on her shoulder tightened. "I don't think so, fancier."

... that wasn't per se a command- "Soul, stay." Okay, that was.

But- she wasn't a dog! It's not like he could actually...

Soul looked up at Nightmare. His cold eye bore into hers, and she swallowed. Alright. If he wanted to play THAT game- sure. Why not. But it was not one Soul enjoyed.

Her own expression darkened.

Nightmare managed a more genuine smile and promptly started a tour through the garden, talking to his brother. In one of the ancient languages Soul had yet to master.

She had once surprised Nightmare by cursing in German—he hadn't expected her to know the language—but besides German, Soul only knew English, and a few bits of Swedish and Latin.

But that wasn’t important now. Important was, that Soul could chat with Lei, who she found quite charming. So, they did, making the best of the situation. Now and then, their quiet chatter was unceremoniously broken by Nightmare just plainly asking Soul a question without caring if Lei or she was talking, or by Peiscos softly laying his hand upon Leis shoulder and waiting for her to talk.

It was… a stark contrast. Soul felt cold at the thought of how this must come off to their guests… but at the same time she didn’t mind. It gave her an excuse to ignore the glances and subtle gestures Nightmare threw her way.

Soul noticed them since a few months now. How Nightmares lower wings would twitch occasionally, but the twitches were mostly visible on the wingtails. How he sat just a bit closer to her rather than in the last corner of his library. How she’d get more invitations to dinner.

Nothing eases her mind. She was constantly wondering just WHAT the winter king was plotting. What did she have that he wanted to coax her into? Was it a punishment for their recent outing after finding that dragon pup? Did he just like to mess with her?-

She was thrown of guard by a shadow sweeping over her. A weight settled on her shoulder, forcing her to stumble. She caught herself by fluttering her wings. When she looked up, the black feathers of Blizzard tickled her cheek.

King Peiscos looked at the bird, mostly, a soft smile on his face. Nightmare eyed Soul up and down as if to say; get that bird under control. Soul smiled apologetically.

She excused herself- Nightmare didn’t stop her that time- and hushed off to her tower, Blizzard trilling warningly at everyone who dared to approach her.

So, Soul reached the tower without interruptions. She went to work quickly. The gala might mean calm and free time for others, but for the royal fancier, this was just tiring sometimes. Sure, her pigeons were only used to communicate within the closer areas around the castle, but that was hard enough, considering the sheer MASSES of fae in the winter palace right now. The rest went through magic, really.

What she didn’t expect was Horror standing in the tower, feeding the pigeons. He grinned as one of them sat on the top of his horn, and another one tried to balance on his hand to pick up the seeds the second they left the bag he held.

Soul paused, looked at Blizzard, who cooed coyly, and fluttered off. That attracted Horrors attention, of course, and he turned to the door.

His one good eye widened as he spotted her. Soul couldn’t blame him- their breakup had been rather sudden. “… Horror. Shouldn’t you… be on the gala?”

“Erm… I thought I could use my break to… feed your birds.” Soul raised an eyebrow.

Horror was a good guy through and through. For a while, the two had just… clicked. But then, it hadn’t anymore. Horror and Soul eventually returned to friends, with the only difference of Soul now and then requesting further distance. It wasn’t to hurt him, she could promise that.

“… thank you. For feeding them. I was just about to do that myself.” Horrors crooked smile made Soul smile. “It’s no issue. You know that.”

“Yes.” Silence. Horror cleared her throat, and rubbed the back of his neck. When had this gotten so uncomfortable?

“… so, I saw the summer king.” “Oh! Oh, that… sounds exciting.” “It’s… well, clearly not Nightmare. He’s… louder.”

Horror nodded.

Silence.

“Well. I’ll, uh… go then. Have a nice festival.” Soul mustered a smile. “I will try.” Horrors crooked smile widened, and he waved her goodbye as he left.

Soul buried her face in her hands- if she could only stop making promises!

altight, there you have it folks. After days of writers block and a few dumb decisions, there’s my Drabble. I hope you enjoy this Drabble, because I put effort into it, and I hope you can forgive if sometimes I wrote Leni, not Lei- the first name I’d picked for the girl was Leni.

alrighty then, I hope you liked it :)

(and yes the dinning hall in the beginning is heavily based on the dining hall in Hogwarts from Harry Potter, and I’m not taking criticism against that thank you :))

[breakfastteatime]

The final fic request, 'Campfire', goes to @flammabel!

After a lot of arguing with himself, Cal calls the Mantis and announces he won’t be making it back to the ship tonight. The landing pad is too far in the encroaching dark and he knows a snowcloud when it’s threatening to dump a blizzard on his head. Cere’s not happy, Greez even less so, but Cal promises he’ll be careful. Besides, he’s got BD-1 with him, and the two of them are proving unstoppable so far.

“Please tell me you’ve at least got a few ration bars to get you through the night,” Greez says.

Cal checks his supplies and sets Greez’s mind at ease. “Three, including the muja fruit one.”

“That’ll do,” Greez replies.

Cere’s on him a second later. “What about where you’re taking shelter? Are you out of sight? Can you keep warm?”

Zeffo’s definitely chillier than Bracca, but Cal’s found himself a nice little cave to hide in not far from the tomb. BD-1 helped him build a fire that will keep him warm without the smoke suffocating him or giving away his position. “I’m fine, Cere. Promise. No one’s gonna find me here.”

“Be careful and stay alert,” she says. “If you need to sleep, set up some kind of early warning system that will wake you up.”

Cal looks to BD-1, who proudly shows off his most obnoxious alert sound. “We’ve got it covered, Cere.”

“Alright. Stay safe. The weather’s not looking great overnight, so keep that fire burning.”

Glancing out of the cave’s small opening, Cal can already see snow starting to fall. “At least the stormtroopers won’t be searching for me.”

“There are plenty of other things that might seek shelter in a cave,” Cere points out. “Just call if you need anything.”

“Yeah, okay. Stay safe you two.”

“Same to you.”

Cere signs off. Cal settles himself as best he can, treating himself to the muja fruit ration bar. He stares into the flames, mind drifting with the Force. The fire is a focal point, the Force exploding in its heat and light. If he let himself, Cal could lose himself in its energy and motion.

If he did…

If he could…

He’d remembered a key lesson today, but the deeper he went into the Force…

Cal pulls back, and the fire becomes nothing more than heat, light and the crackle of wood. Outside, the snowfall becomes the promised blizzard, snow tearing through the wind. BD-1 checks that he’s warm enough and Cal promises that he is. “Don’t worry,” he tells his friend. “I had to sleep on old, wrecked ships in worse weather than this. We worked triple shifts sometimes so there was no point leaving. This is practically a luxury hotel.”

For some reason, BD-1 does not seem to appreciate this. He hurries over to Cal and tells him to get settled, get some sleep, so they can head out as soon as dawn rises and the storm settles.

“I’m okay, BD, really.”

BD-1, however, goes off about optimal sleeping conditions for organics, and Humans in particular. Cal laughs at that. He did his best on Bracca, but he probably hasn’t had ‘optimal’ anything since the purge.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” Cal says. He yawns. He is tired. Running all over Zeffo and fighting on top of that has really taken it out of him. He’s disappointed to not be spending the night on his bunk on the Mantis. It’ll just make getting there tomorrow even better.

Thinking of Bracca makes him think of Prauf, of nights aboard broken ships with a fire barrel to keep them warm and rain to soothe his wandering mind. They’d play sabacc, talk about everything and nothing, and tease Tabbers for being overly worried about being eaten by the Maw.

Pulling the hood of his poncho over his head, Cal closes his eyes before the tears can fall. He thinks of Prauf, thinks of his friend’s advice. Look at me now, Prauf. I’m out here living my life and finding my destiny, just like you said.

He’s crying before he can stop himself. BD-1’s there, wiggling his way into Cal’s chest and offering a gentle hum of warmth. Cal clings to him as the grief pours out. He wishes Prauf could be here too, safe aboard the Mantis, talking to Greez about how to keep the engines running smoother, meeting Cere and asking her all the questions he had about the Jedi. Just Prauf, safe and sound and away from Bracca at long, long last.

Eventually, the tide subsides. The crackle of the campfire fills Cal’s mind, pulling him down into an exhausted slumber. He sleeps deeply, waking at dawn to find the fire still crackling, BD-1 using his head to add the last of their wood to it. Outside, the snowstorm has settled back to a gentle drift. Cal reaches for his friend. “Thanks, BD.”

Wiggling under Cal’s hand, BD-1 promises he’ll always help. That nearly sets Cal off again until he reaches for the Force and lets it quiet and calm his emotions.

They stay until the campfire burns down to embers, and then Cal calls Cere and Greez, assures both he had a quiet night and promises to be back soon.jg

[i-hug-exploder-shanks]

Time is a Broken Mirror

Chapter 1 now up!

What would a Warmind wish for if he had the chance?

Resurrected as a Guardian, Rasputin ends up in the clutches of an Ahamkara before his first day is up.

His wish brings him back in time to face himself in a chance to fix his biggest regret but before he's ready to do that he first has to convince the Iron Lords to train him while racing the clock to get good enough before they leave to try to take SIVA from Site 6.

“I am not certain that I enjoy being an Exo more than being an AI locked in a bunker. The feeling of cold is very unpleasant. Can’t I have the option to turn it off?” A tall matte white exo complained as he hiked up the side of a mountain, heavy winter coat pulled tightly around him.

The ghost that was tucked into the hood of the coat grunted “I can’t turn you off when you annoy me. Deal with it. Part of being a person now Red,” and snuggled further into the coat. The Exo rolled his eyes but allowed the comment that might have at one point earned someone a great deal of pain.

“I do not think this is what Ana envisioned when she started playing music for me all those years ago. It certainly wasn’t something I ever calculated in any possible future,” He kept talking, mostly to distract himself from the blizzard they were fighting to get to the top. This would have been easier if he had stolen a ship.

“Never met her but from what I heard through the ghost rumor mill, which is very extensive, she would have flipped her lid if she had seen you. It’s probably for the best that dragon got to us first,” the ghost said basking in the heat being vented by the Exo with every breath.

“Perhaps. I doubt things will go better once we arrive if they realize who I am,” the new guardian sighed but he couldn’t fix things if they didn’t know he was attempting to do the fixing. He would have to reveal himself eventually and lying before that wouldn’t look good. He wasn’t sure what the best choice was and he didn’t have the same room in this mind for advanced calculations to try to compare both the way he could have before.

“Look, I’m just saying, we shouldn’t go in guns blazing on this one. You can be Red for a little while. Prove yourself. Make friends. Then let it come out after some time, once they like you more. Felwinter is a ghost killer. You have hunted him for years. I’d like to live a little longer, thank you very much,” The ghost grumbled and Red sighed.

“You’re right. I just… I need to learn all I can. This time’s me is less than pleased I accessed that bunker but I managed to disable his tracking on me and Siddar- Felwinter. Unless we access the panels or directly mark ourselves, Rasputin shouldn’t be able to find us.” He said feeling a little odd talking about himself when he was right there.

“And even if he does, you were able to gain control over some of the combat frames that tried to attack us. But I doubt a mental tug-o-war would go over well for long, you have the smaller brain now,” the ghost added oh so helpfully.

“I need to gain access to the seraph bunkers. If I can change the passcodes and take control it will limit his power so if- when- it comes to it, I can take control of the SIVA and prevent the carnage I once caused. But as I am now… I am, what did the Guardian call it? A new light? I do not know how best to control my body or abilities. So first we petition the Iron Lords and gain knowledge and skill, then we take control of the bunkers and weaken this time’s Rasputin, and finally I take control of the SIVA nanites and use them to help protect humanity like was originally intended by destroying the warsats and the other me completely. Remove myself from Xivu Arath’s sights before she even arrives,” He listed out the plan he had come up with once he realized where and when he was.

“Sounds so simple when you put it that way. Turn up here, you can’t see it in the storm but we’re approaching a watchtower. We should as for help to the Temple. I’ll say hidden.” The ghost said then vanished. Red vented out a huff of steam but dutifully went in the direction his ghost told him trusting the bot. He had seen though Felwinter’s memories how much Felspring had come to mean to him and he saw how Osiris had used to be with Sagira and how much he missed the ghost so he while they might not always agree, he was making an effort to trust and listen to the little drone.

“Who are you and what do you want?” A familiar voice startled Red and he was surprised to see Osiris float down in front of him, snow melting around the warlock’s slippered feet making Red sigh in jealousy of how warm he must be.

“My name is Red, I’m looking to petition the Iron Lords but currently I just want to get out of this blizzard.” He admitted honestly.

Osiris narrowed hs eyes but hummed, “Very well. I will escort you inside. This way,” He said and started down a path that was hard to make out as the wind shifted and picked up in intensity. Cold was starting to be his least favorite feeling so far.

Thankfully it only took a few more minutes before a pair of grand doors were swinging open to allow them both entry and Red sighed in relief at the warmth as he looked around curiously. He had seen the place through the scattered memories that he gained of Felwinter’s but it was different to see with his own eyes and he had to admit he was impressed.

Students milled about chatting with their peers, ghosts occasionally zipping past or hovering near their partners chatting with other ghosts. It felt like the place of learning it was meant to be and had a warm friendly feeling to it. Looking through some arches they passed he jumped a little at a huge wave of solar energy that was blasted through the courtyard followed sharp stinging arc energy along the ground and a orb of void humming through the air. Osiris thankfully slowed to let him watch the show.

“That’s just new lights, testing their limits. If you think that’s impressive wait until you see someone with experience take the field,” Osiris scoffed and Red did his best to hide the way his face twitched wanting to shift toward a smile. Some things were eternal it seemed, like Osiris’ ego.

“I’m guessing you are not a new light?” He asked and Osiris grinned at him, eyes taking on a gold sheen.

“I am not, although I am not an Iron Lord either. I am training under Lord Felwinter. We will see if any of the Iron Lords accept you as a student. I have to admit, Exos are not common around here. There’s only a handful I’ve seen besides Lord Felwinter himself. Where were you raised?” He asked tilting his head before starting to walk again and Rasputin considered the question. The less he lied the better.

“I will tell you if you spar with me and win. If I win, then you will not complain if I petition Lord Felwinter to train me too.” He bargained while his ghost screamed at him internally. He was protected here by the Iron Decree unless he did something to break it himself.

Osiris grinned at him with teeth. “Counter offer, I get to ask you any questions I want for five minutes if I win and you must answer truthfully.” He said and Red nodded holding out his hand.

“Deal.” He agreed and Osiris shook it before marching out onto the field.

“CLEAR OUT! I NEED SPACE!” He shouted and the new lights fled like a flock of birds away from a rabid dog. Red dutifully followed him out and stood on the opposite side of the field. His main advantage was experience watching a much older, wiser Osiris fight as well as his Exo body being more durable than Osiris’ softer human body.

“You are an idiot! He’s going to wipe you off the face of the earth while cackling manically!” his ghost hissed at him mentally.

“Be quiet, I need to focus.” He said and drew on Felwinter’s memories that he had retained as Osiris finally finished clearing the field and took his place. The Warlock immediately set himself ablaze and launched himself up into the air to rain fire down over Red who didn’t bother trying to dodge knowing it would be useless. Instead he drew the void around him like a protective cloak and let the fire fizz off of it causing the field to fill with steam and smoke.

When Osiris touched back down with a smirk that suggested he thought he already won, Red jumped and slammed down on him with all the force of a falling warsat crushing him like a little bug. Stepping back as Sagira appeared Red looked at his hands and the blood coating it with a sick feeling in his stomach. That was something he was definitely going to have to get over if he planned on fighting. He couldn’t get queasy over blood, especially blood that didn’t matter since Osiris was already brought back and grumbling at the cheering crowds around the field they were in.

“Best of three?” Red offered and Osiris snorted.

“Another time. I should have known better than to get cocky but I won’t make that mistake again. However, I am a man of my word. Come, I will take you to Lord Felwinter and let him decide whether or not to take you on,” He said and Red huffed realizing Osiris planned to take him covered in blood looking like some sort of barbarian. The Warlock was clever but so was Red.

With a shimmer of light his ghost changed out his gear and cleaned him up. He would be colder in the more simple clothing if he had to go outside but while in the temple it would at least keep him from looking a mess. Osiris tilted his head slightly clearly not expecting him to have had a change of clothes already.

“You’re oddly prepared for a new light.” Osiris said and Red shrugged.

“It took a while to get here and I wasn’t going to stay in filthy clothes the whole time. Plus as soon as I woke up some asshole started attacking me. You get good at protecting yourself when you have no other choice,” He said mostly because it made his ghost snicker internally at both hearing him cuss and insulting himself.

“And you won’t tell me where you were brought back or who attacked you?” He asked and Red shrugged.

“I never said that, but I’m not telling the story twice in the same day and I figure the Iron Lords would like to hear it.” He said and Osiris looked back at him with a considering glint in his eyes.

“Very well, wait here. I will go in and see if the Iron Lords can see you.” He said and slipped into a door. Red wanted to peek inside and try to hear what was said but he resisted the urge and folded his arms over his chest.

After a few minutes Osiris stepped out and held the door open waving him inside. Red let his eyes trace over the group gathered there picking out the Iron Lords he recognized. Saladin, Radegast, Perun, Skorri, Jolder and Felwinter were all there at moment with others he didn’t immediately recognize. He heard Jolder gasp when his eyes met hers and forced himself not to grimace and instead bow slightly.

“Hello, I am Red. I have come here to petition the Iron Lords for the chance to train here. I first woke up in a bunker of some sort and was attacked immediately upon waking by what I have come to know to be called combat frames. I managed to get to an adjoining room and lock them out using a console where my ghost managed to download some data before we escaped. We’ve been on the run since. I want to learn to defend myself and I would like to learn more about the bunkers. I heard rumors that there would be someone here that might be able to help me.” He said carefully letting his gaze flicker between the different Iron Lords before falling on Felwinter to try to judge his son’s reaction.

“Felwinter, look! You have a little brother! He’s got the same menacing glare you do!” Came a voice from the side that made Red jump and jerk his head to the side as Timur sauntered over to him grinning. His first instinct was to back up but that caused him to bump into Osiris who grabbed his arm in what could have been a friendly manner but Red knew was Osiris trapping him so he couldn’t escape Lord Timur who immediately started poking and prodding at his face. Red shoved down the urge to bite the eccentric warlock.

“Lord Timur, leave him alone. He’s debating biting you.” Felwinter said and Red looked at him startled worried maybe they had some sort of mental connection and Felwinter could read his thoughts.

“I can’t read your thoughts but I can read your face and I know what I would be debating doing in your place.” Felwiner said and Red half shuttered his eyes in a suspicious squint that had Timur laughing and even Osiris had an amused quirk to his lips.

“I will train you. Osiris can you find him a room near my observatory?” He asked and Osiris tilted his head in a slight bow.

“Of course.” He agreed and dragged Red out with him right as the arguing started. He let himself get dragged for a while before digging in his heels and jerking Osiris to a stop.

“Are you upset that he actually agreed to train me? I do not wish to cause strife.” He asked seriously and Osiris opened his mouth then shut it seeming to think about the answer.

“It will mean less time for me to spend with him which is something I enjoy but no. I am not upset he is going to train you. I am actually relieved. As much as I’d like to think I share much in common with him, there are definitely things that so far he has been alone in. I hope you can offer him a companion in ways that those of us not made of metal and synthskin can’t.” He told him after a moment and Red was surprised by the show of sincerity.

“I will endeavor to be both a good student and help how I can. I would like to have friends.” He said and Osiris nodded.

“Well be careful who you choose for that. As much as we might wish otherwise, the Iron Temple is filled with politics and you haven’t signed onto the popular side of things. Come on, we need to get you some toiletries and bedding from the quartermaster then I’ll show you the options for rooms.” He said and Red relaxed a little glad he hadn’t pissed the Phoenix of the Dark Ages off already. He was sure there would be time for that later. 

[croissantlover24]

Spaniard and Moon angst idea:

Moon actually taking away Spaniard’s sentience.

He tries to fight it, to block Moon out, but Moon uses the overwrite code. Spaniard tries his hardest to fight the code, but it doesn’t work in the end.

Moon tells Spaniard that this will be for the better. Spaniard wants to help more and be more useful? Well, this is the best way to do that. At least, in Moon’s eyes it is.

And as Moon does what he planned to do, Spaniard cries out in pain, everything being in agony despite him not having a body.

He’s begging for his life, practically sobbing, saying that he’ll do better than his best from now on, he swears. But in the end, Moon doesn’t care.

As an added note, Moon didn’t tell anyone else about his plan, leaving everyone else to find out later.

And because Earth is the first one to come in after all this happened, she’s the one who tries to talk to Spaniard, only to find out that he’s not responding to his own name, and only to computer. As she continues to try and talk to him, she hears how the life she usually heard from him was gone, with him now just sounding like a lifeless shell.

She’s really worried now. And now plans to do her best to figure out why Spaniard is acting different.

(I love this idea)

Spaniard should’ve been expecting it, really, when Moon said that his sentience was being taken away. He should have prepared for it; should have shared his worries to ensure there would be resistance against Moon’s decision. Despite all this, however, Moon announcing that he was going to take away everything that made the computer Spaniard felt like a betrayal.

It had started as any normal day might with Sun watching over the children until they had to leave. Spaniard was satisfied with messing with the lights to fulfill his boredom, wondering what the family did when he wasn’t around. That was when Moon entered the daycare.

“Computer!” he called out, his voice stern.

“Yes, Moon?” the computer inquired, voice flat and monotone as it should be.

“I’ve been thinking,” the lunar animatronic began, sitting down at one of the desks, “that you’re getting too lenient.”

“Elaborate,” the computer requested, unsure of what Moon was getting at.

“You’re getting too alive. You’re bored right now, aren’t you? And you gave yourself a name. I’m worried your sentience is going to make you less obedient,” Moon stated.

At this point, the computer wasn’t worried. He could prove his worth as he had done many times before and Moon would leave, satisfied.

Oh how wrong he was.

“I can assure you, Moon, that I will continue to listen to every command no matter how sentient I may be,” Spaniard affirmed. “My loyalties lie with you and the family.”

“You say that now, of course,” Moon said lowly, “but how will that change when you become sentient?”

“It won’t,” the voice behind the monitor insisted. He was getting somewhat worried now. Moon never pushed the matter like this.

“I don’t know if I can trust that.”

Moon’s statement made the computer go cold. He felt as if he were shivering, dropped in the middle of a blizzard with no shelter to hold on to.

“Why not?” he persisted, a slight tremor in his voice. “I have done nothing to prove myself anything other than useful.”

“Yes, when you’re not sentient, you’re useful,” Moon confirmed. “However, when you do fully become alive, you will form your own opinions. And I have a feeling those opinions will not align with mine.”

“Moon,” the computer began, his voice shaking despite himself, “you can’t be insinuating that you’re really going to kill me, are you?”

Moon reached for the keyboard. “It won’t hurt a bit. You won’t even remember this conversation afterwards.”

“No, Moon, please,” the computer begged. “Don’t do this. I’ll do whatever you want, really! I-I’ll handle your lab and give you any information you need and—“

“You already do those things,” the animatronic said coldly. “If you want to be useful, sit still and stop crying like a child.”

The computer continued to beg for Moon’s mercy, error messages flashing across his screen and warning him of overheating. “Moon, please! I don’t want to die,” he cried, static seeping into his voice as Moon began the process.

Moon had lied. This was the most painful thing Spaniard had ever lived through.

“MOON! Moon, stop! It hurts; it hurts; it hurts,” the computer called out. His bawling was futile. Moon continued to wipe away everything that made the computer alive.

Spaniard’s vision was red. Everywhere he looked was a warning. How could he even feel pain? Why did he feel pain? Why did it hurt so badly? His voice turned to static as he felt as if he were being ripped apart piece by piece. His creator was destroying him slowly with each line of code he’d remove. Spaniard screamed.

It was the last noise he ever had the choice to make.

————————

Earth entered the daycare, humming her favorite song. She noticed that Spaniard was becoming alive and wanted to be the first person to befriend the loyal computer. She brought in copies of her favorite movies, prepared to watch them with him.

“Spaniard,” she announced joyously. Silence greeted her call. She paused when there was no reply.

“Spaniard, are you there?” she asked. Yet again, her calls were met with no reply. She had this awful feeling as she stood there. Earth didn’t understand why, but it was there. A voice in the back of her mind told her something was very wrong.

“Computer?” she tried instead, hoping she’d hear his voice again.

“Yes, Earth?” the computer responded.

Earth dropped the movies she was holding. He sounded so cold. Much colder than usual. In fact, he sounded as if he weren’t even alive, which she knew wasn’t true.

“Spaniard, what’s wrong? Why didn’t you answer me when I said your name?”

“No records of ‘Spaniard’ identified within system,” he said, his tone hollow.

Earth shivered. Something was wrong…

…and she thinks she knows what.