#and then the guy here's got that one weird monster he commands using that bone piece there

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 3

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Content warnings: None

"Can't you keep up, ghoul boy?"

Morgan leaned heavily against the trunk of a tree, trying to catch his breath. Blaise was over a foot taller than him and much sturdier, clearly accustomed to regular physical activity. Her brisk walking pace was impossible for him to match. Traveling alone, he'd been able to set his own speed. It was considerably slower.

"No. Your legs... are longer," he panted. She grumbled something under her breath and turned away. Of course she wanted to move quickly. People generally wanted to spend as little time as possible around him. "If we slow down," he suggested, "I won't have to keep stopping." She didn't respond. "Or you could just... not go with me."

"Listen," she said sharply, turning to point a finger at his chest, "I earned my place in the Sisterhood, and I take it very seriously. I have to trust in Kashya's decisions, even if I don't agree with them. I'm going to see this through."

"Very well." He wasn't about to waste his breath arguing, not when it was still so elusive. Blaise peered around suspiciously now that she'd turned back the way they came.

"Hey, what happened to that... thing? Your monster."

He'd had to abandon it some time ago in favour of trying to keep up with the rogue. It made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable even though the enemies had been few so far, and she'd picked them off easily from a distance. She was a skilled archer. "Clay golem. It was too slow."

"I thought your kind raised the dead, anyway."

"Skeletons are faster," he said, watching for her reaction, "but most... don't like them."

She looked away, scanning the treeline. "Don't like you either, so does it matter?"

Morgan didn't know how to answer that. He decided to take it as permission. These fields were ripe with choice, layered thick with dead that had never been laid to rest. He selected two nearby specimens and filled their bones with magic, like pouring a little of himself out of a larger cup into a thimble. Blaise jumped back, nocking an arrow, but seemed to realize quickly what was going on. She scrutinized the skeletons, circling them to inspect all sides. They shuffled, restless - between the freshly renewed energy and whatever remained of their original spirits, they wanted to move. They flexed their bony fingers around the hilts of their swords, which were glowing faintly blue. It cost a little extra effort to manifest a weapon, but it was much more convenient than carrying or seeking out extra gear.

"Looks like these guys are battle ready." She gave Morgan a brief taste of the same assessing gaze. "More ready than you, anyway."

"That's the idea." He was not built for fighting. Or speed. Or much of anything physical, when it came down to it. His delicate frame and poor stamina put a damper on that sort of thing. His magical aptitude, such as it was, was his only strength.

"I mean, your sword is on the wrong side."

"What?" Morgan looked down at the scabbard on his hip, not seeing anything amiss. "I'm right-handed."

Blaise sighed, pointing. "Yeah, I figured that's why you've got your shield on the left. Your sword belongs on the left too. It's easier to draw from your opposite hip." She pantomimed drawing a blade from across her body. It did look easier than the way he'd been doing it, with less wasted movement.

"Ah. I see." He set about fixing his gear's arrangement as she watched, unimpressed.

"Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"Sharp end goes in the target," he answered. That approach had been working so far. Most creatures kept their internal organs in more or less the same arrangement, and damaging those was a quick way to win a skirmish. His constructs took care of most of the threats, anyway - he rarely had to engage in combat himself.

"Very funny." Morgan looked at Blaise questioningly. What was funny? "Wait, please tell me you're joking. Oh, for the love of-" Blaise clasped a hand to her forehead, turning away. "Perfect. I'm out here with a greenhorned... kid, and some dead guys. I hope finding this Deckard character is worth it."

"I'm probably older than you, I'm just small." Morgan always had trouble telling how old people were, but it seemed like a fair guess based on her voice and the way she carried herself. "And the skeletons... remember. How to fight. From when they were alive." Watching them was the way he'd learned to handle the sword, over the course of the month or so it had been in his possession.

"They what?"

He held in a sigh. People often didn't like this part either. "Some echo of the spirit remains in the bones after a person dies. It's stronger if they died suddenly, or weren't laid to rest. When I tell them to fight, they... fight. However they used to. Look." He commanded the skeletons to spar with each other and they sprang into action, blades clashing. Blaise watched them thoughtfully.

"Well," she decided after a few moments, "that's not as bad as I expected. Now let's get going, you've had a minute to catch your breath." She didn't wait for a response before setting off with a long, loping stride. Morgan trotted to keep up, maintaining a respectful distance. He felt cautiously optimistic. Grudging acceptance was among the best possible outcomes he'd dared to consider.

They'd had to stop for the night. Tristram was simply too far to reach in a single day, no matter how fast they walked. Few words had passed between them during that day, which suited Morgan quite well. Conversation so often felt like a maze to navigate, and he could rarely figure out the right solution. His golems responded quickly and easily to mental suggestions, not requiring any specific words to perform actions or be dismissed. It was so much simpler with them. The skeletons from earlier waited obediently for their next orders, standing guard at the edge of the camp.

Silence was easy. He'd nodded silently when Blaise declared she was stopping to hunt dinner, observed silently as she dressed and roasted the small rabbit she'd shot. Now he was eating silently from his own supply of dried meat, watching the archer oil and restring her bow. It was captivating, in a small way, watching people do things expertly. The fluidity of her actions, the balanced push and pull of her muscles as she conditioned the wood, the way the firelight cast shifting patches of brighter orange on the coppery tone of her skin.

"What the hell are you smiling at, ghoul boy?" Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously. He hadn't realized he'd been smiling. He stopped. The question felt like a trap.

"I was just... admiring you," Morgan ventured. If there had been a correct answer, that wasn't it. Blaise crossed the distance between them with a few long strides and grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him onto his feet.

"Listen close, you disgusting little man, because I'm only going to say this once," she snarled. "I'm here with you right now because I respect my commander. I'm not here for your enjoyment. If you want your cock to stay attached, you'd better keep it in your fucking pants."

"What? No, that's not - I didn't mean-" Morgan stammered, horrified. Had there been a sexual connotation to his phrasing? He definitely hadn't intended one. He'd have to remember not to say that again.

She gave him a shake. "Tell me you understand what I'm saying to you."

"I understand," he croaked. She released him roughly, sending him sprawling in the dirt. He picked himself up gingerly. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Shut up. I don't want to hear it." Morgan closed his mouth and averted his eyes, shrinking back. An apology would have to wait until Blaise was... less furious.

She eventually turned away. "I'll take first watch," she announced with her back to him. "Can't sleep like this."

He wasn't going to sleep either, not after that outburst. It would be prudent to rest, though. He returned to his seat by the fire and settled in to meditate. The skeletons folded down into themselves, collapsing in an orderly manner so they would be easy to raise again later. Blaise whirled around at the noise.

"What are you doing?" She squinted suspiciously at the neat piles of bones.

"Putting them away. They don't stay together very long when I'm resting."

"Resting." Morgan wished immediately that he'd chosen a different way to phrase it. Maybe an explanation would help.

"Golems need magic to hold them together. Once they run out, if they don't get more, they just fall apart."

"Uh huh, sure. 'Resting' is a weird way to say 'sleeping' if that's what you mean, though. So what exactly do you plan to do behind my back all night if it isn't sleeping?"

"Just meditation."

"Why not sleep like a normal person?"

Morgan made the mistake of hesitating, unable to decide how to answer on the spot. Blaise jabbed her bow towards him.

"I said, why not?"

"It's nearly the same thing," he explained, "just with more awareness. I don't usually sleep in unfamiliar surroundings. None of my Order do."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"I don't lie, but if you don't believe me, I can't make you." He did not look away from her gaze, though he wanted to. It was uncomfortable. But people seemed to equate eye contact with honesty, so he made the effort.

Blaise didn't look satisfied with his answer, but she lowered her bow and turned her back on him again, muttering under her breath. It would do, then. He sat in silence for a minute or so before starting to meditate. Being rested was always preferable to the alternative.

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 266 “Pinky Finger Bones”

So... with this chapter we begin digging into what happened in the past. Into what happened to Wilk... but also into what happened to Tsurumi.

He clearly stared into the abyss and the abyss stared back at him... but what’s worse is that Tsurumi became much more scary than the abyss itself.

By the way you might notice a resemblance with the quote “He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.” [‘Beyond Good and Evil’  Friedrich Nietzsche] which loosely means “When you confront evil, make sure it doesn’t influence you.”

Well, it’s clear Tsurumi not only let himself influence, he sadly became worse than the ‘monster’ he was fighting.

But let’s go with order.

The cover… is more like part of a flashback scene.

It shows Tsurumi and Tsukishima in Vladivostok, in 1897. Therefore we’re at the point in which Tsukishima was released from jail and was working as an intelligence officer with Tsurumi in Russia.

They are shown alone, but it doesn’t necessarily mean they went there alone, as Tsurumi could have other men with himself, to create a spy network. Or not.

We’ll find out only if it’s relevant to the plot so, for now, I’ll let it on hold.

Anyway Tsurumi and Tsukishima talk of how, since Vladivostok is the only Russian port that doesn’t freeze and can be used all year round, it’s a strategically vital point for Russia but also for Japan. Central had made appoint to let Tsurumi know they need to conquer it if they go at war with Russia.

At that point a Russian man spot Tsukishima and starts asking him if he is Japanese and knows a man named Hasegawa who disappeared without a trace 6 years ago.

As Tsukishima struggles to understand what he says (he’s clearly not well versed in Russian yet) the man talks about the bodies of Hasegawa’s wife and daughter, but we don’t get to hear what he says about them.

Tsukishima turns to discover Tsurumi has disappeared and, searching him, he finds him in front of Hasegawa’s burned photo studio.

Tsurumi’s expression, which Tsukishima can’t see, is interesting. His eyes are shadowed by the brim of his hat (while Tsukishima aren’t) and his eyes are stretched thin, many stress lines under them.

He’s probably lost in painful memories, which are likely now wrapped by the hate he feels for who caused his tragedy.

When Tsukishima reads on the sign ‘Hasegawa photo studio’, he realizes it’s the name the Russian was talking about. I’ll be honest, the coincidence is a little too forced. I mean, to have a random Russian guy asks to a random Japanese (let’s remember Vladivostok HAD a Japanese district so Japanese people is not that impossible to spot there) if they knew Hasegawa who disappeared 6 years ago and, COINCIDENTALLY, this Japanese is with the guy who, in the past, was Hasegawa, a guy who apparently doesn’t hear the question and marches straight to Hasegawa photo studio (they weren’t that close, Tsukishima lost sight of Tsurumi and had to search for him) so that Tsukishima can connect some dots back then and a lot more in the present is... well, way too providential.

It would be different if that Russian had a reason to check all the Japanese he were to spot and had done so for 6 years but no reason is given. We aren’t told he was Fina’s relative (Fina has a family to whom she was supposed to return the day she died)... and therefore pretty invested in the tragedy and it’s clear he’s not part of the secret police or he wouldn’t give Tsukishima random details. Tsukishima isn’t even standing near Hasegawa’s house at the time he was questioned, so it was possible to speculate they knew each other.

That guy who spoke with Tsukishima was just a Russian who woke up that morning and decided, spotting some Japanese, to ask him about a guy who disappeared 6 years ago for... no apparent reason beyond plot convenience.

But okay, let’s go on.

We’ve left Tsukishima connecting the photo studio with the guy the Russian mentioned, relying to Tsurumi the Russian guy mentioned ‘something’ about that man’s wife and daughter.

At this point I wonder if there’s a reason why we aren’t told what that something is. I would think that the fact that their bodies got burned up in the fire wasn’t something to discuss or wonder about but maybe... there’s more?

I don’t know.

Anyway Tsukishima wonders if Tsurumi knew Hasegawa, which really, seems logical enough as Tsurumi came there to watch his burned shop and Tsurumi denies it, saying there’s plenty of Japanese people in Vladivostok (which again make weird how the Russian guy asked them if they knew about Hasegawa). Tsurumi then claims Hasegawa should have been odd for wanting to open a shop away from the Japanese district, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat and I facepalm here because he’s basically lampshading that Hasegawa had to be a spy for wanting to do so...

which seems uncharacteristically careless from him... unless he wanted Tsukishima to actually question him further... to push him to talk because maybe he too needed to talk but couldn’t... but Tsukishima is evidently ignorant in spy matters so he doesn’t get the hint.

He doesn’t lot go though, as Tsukishima remembers Hasegawa was Tsurumi’s mother’s maiden name, whom he noticed when Tsurumi went to pay his respect to her grave.

Tsurumi compliments for Tsukishima’s good memory and deflects Tsukishima’s suspicions saying it’s a common name in Niigata.

So we’ve some info about Tsurumi to ponder about, like how his mother is dead and how he was an Hasegawa so there’s to wonder if he was related to the ‘Hasegawa senior’ which whom he supposedly came in Russia as a teenager.

Was the guy his father using his mother’s maiden name? Or a maternal uncle? Can it be there was originally an Hasegawa Koichi and Tsurumi and him swapped (swapping identity with someone was a common spy technique)? If that’s the case was Kouichi a cousin of Tsurumi?

Or the guy never existed and it’s just a cover story? Hard to say, interesting to speculate.

Anyway we jump back to the present and to Tsukishima, a vein popping on his check, connecting the dots and realizing ‘that Hasegawa’ was actually Tsurumi.

Tsurumi then goes and says that 50 years ago some of the more extremist Ainu gathered up a great quantity of gold dust and were planning something... and here I pause again.

So, does this mean whose extremists did take a part of the hidden gold? Or that they were the gold’s guardians, aware of where it was hidden?

If it happened 50 years ago, unless the gold was stolen by the hideout, this means the extremists were the same guys who knew about the hideout. So, Ariko’s father could have been one of them as well as Asirpa’s grandfather (my bet is he’s the one who knew where the gold was).

Anyway the Ainu’s plan in order to fight the shogunate was to get a captain of the imperial Russian navy to divert Russian warships, munitions and such to them... and I think Tsurumi is exaggerating matters a bit because it’s really not enough to own warships, you also need men to drive them and I’m not sure how many Ainu there were who could do it but whatever, maybe back then was easier to pilot warships and use them to go to battle... but still, I kind of feel it would be complicate for him to ‘smuggle out’ Russian warships... I mean they aren’t exactly of the size you might ‘lose track of them’.

Going on.

To explain why the Russian captain would be willing to do so, Tsurumi says it’s common among soldiers who’re stationed far from central command to do as they prefer, which is something Tsurumi is intimately familiar with as he’s doing the same in Hokkaido.

However everything ended when the ship on which was the Russian captain crashed into a passenger ship in what’s called the “Russian warship Kalevala incident” of 1867 (which is completely fictional as no such thing happened in the real world) in which both ships sunk carrying everyone on board with them.

Timeline wise 1867 is also the year in which there’s the restoration of the imperial rule, with the Boshin war starting in 1868.

According to Tsurumi, since the Ainu lost the Russian captain willing to sell them weapons they should have felt at total loss about what to do with the gold.

Tsurumi then claims Wilk came in Hokkaido to search for that gold so that this was the start of everything that happened afterward.

Asirpa asks Sofia if this means it was Tsurumi the one who taught Wilk, Kiro and Sofia Japanese.

We can’t see Sofia’s face, as she’s holding her head down, but she’s sweating and panting, thinking back to when she held little Olga.

Clearly that incident of which she felt responsible still weight a lot on her, like an open wound that never healed... which in a way makes her similar to Tsurumi. Tsurumi though is trying to get revenge for that incident... while Sofia is trying to make up for it. 

She then notices that Tsurumi has moved really close to her, his hand still holding the finger bones of Old and Fina, rubbing them.

We can see Tsurumi’s head is inclined on a side, in a way that reminds me of how Usami looked at the dead horse... although Usami was tilting his head on the opposite side.

In normal body language, tilting the head on a side indicates sincere interest and curiosity... and it can fit both situations too... only Noda also makes it creepy, as if both Usami and Tsurumi were interested yet completely detached, as if they were watching something alien to them, the angle being just a little bit too much to feel natural.

Tsurumi then goes on claiming that, on the day his wife and child died, he was the only one the secret police was after and if Fina hadn’t picked up Wilk’s wanted poster she wouldn’t have come back. Tsurumi through tried to date the blame to even sooner, claiming that if Wilk and co had never gone to his photo studio, his wife and child might not have been killed.

Sofia’s eyes are locked on Tsurumi’s hand rubbing that finger bone, as if she were hypnotized... and I’ll repeat what I said before.

Sofia has spent all those years after the death of Fina and Olga trying to make amends. As she believes her cause will bring benefit to the Russian people (and therefore to people like Sofia and Olga), she continued to fight for it, giving up on Wilk, the man she loved and on ‘happiness as a woman’ all to fight for her cause and atone for that innocent lives who died that day.

Of course meeting Hasegawa again and being blamed fully for those deaths is a big blow to her, it’s the trauma, the sin, she never overcome but tried to by doing something constructive, something she believed would be positive for the others.

It’s worth to remember Sofia came from aristocracy, she didn’t need a better Russia to live an easy life, she could have just continued being a pampered princess and instead she devoted herself to improving her country.

We can argue the methods she chose might not be the best, and how they put in danger innocent people, but the aim is selfless.

On the other end we’ve Tsurumi, whose family fell in disgrace... likely short after the Meiji restoration and possibly due to it.

He went in Russia as a spy probably in an attempt to prove himself and improve his and his family’s life, likely married in order to have a cover but ended up falling in love with Fina and he clearly adored his daughter, Olga.

Still he continued his job as a spy even if that put in danger his own beloved family, he continued teaching Japanese to Wilk and Co even if he knew they were partisans and, ultimately, for some reasons, he get discovered by the secret police.

Somehow he finds out they’re coming from him so, instead than denouncing himself, he sends away Fina and Olga without explaining Fina nothing.

Even if she promised not to, Fina could have gone back for other reasons, it was coincidence it was just because she saw the wanted poster.

When Wilk and Co shows up at Tsurumi’s house HE LET THEM IN, before telling them they can’t come anymore. He could have denied them entrance and send them away, he could have told them he was a wanted man and the secret police was about to jump on him but no, he let them in.

When the secret police arrives he doesn’t just hand himself to them but stop to talk with them at the door, knowing inside he has three revolutionaries who will realize the police is circling the house and that will feel threatened. When they start attacking the police he doesn’t tell them the truth but let them discover it from the Russian policeman and then he hands them a machine gun so that they can fight the police.

Tsurumi was an ACTIVE cause of the incident as much as Wilk and Co if not MORE because he has something to lose and that he was exposing to risk, Fina and Olga.

Yet now he’s shifting all the blame to Wilk’s party, trying to use Sofia’s sense of guilt to get leverage on her and force her to be cooperative so that he could get the gold and get revenge over Central.

Now... I’m positive that Tsurumi suffered A LOT for the death of Fina and Olga, that it was traumatic for him... but while Sofia is trying to make up for it, Tsurumi is just trying to take revenge, trying to frame the death of his beloved ones as something that has a meaning because it becomes an helpful step in his climbing to get the gold and the control of Hokkaido.

In fact, and I’ll flash forward a bit, Tsurumi wants to know what purpose his wife and daughter served in the world, claiming they died because of Wilk and Co and therefore they should give him some sort of compensation.

In this way he uses his own loss to extort information from Sofia so that he could accomplish his goal.

Mind you, all this is a way to cope with pain that’s similar to Sekiya’s, who wanted to know why his daughter had to die, but, differently from Sekiya who was completely blameless for his child’s death, which was merely an incident he had no control over, Tsurumi was also actively to blame for his wife and child’s death and he’s trying to cope with his pain by shifting the blame on others and by trying to turn those deaths into meaningful steps on the way to his original goal, improving his own life.

Ironically, as he loved Fina and Olga, it’s unlikely reaching his original goal will bring him solace, it’s another copying mechanism to excuse himself, if he can justify his wrongdoing to them as a necessary step on the way to his goal, he believes he will feel better... which is clearly a lie. This is not the way to cope with such a traumatic event but it’s a common mistake, an attempt to dim the pain by not coping with how he’s responsible for his own loss.

I pity him for how terrible his pain should be... but there’s no turning around how his way to cope with it IS terrible in any possible way.

But let’s go back a little to Tsukishima and Koito who’re eavesdropping on the conversation.

Tsukishima remembers how, during the war they tried getting control of Vladivostok... and how Tsurumi told him they should expand the territory for Japan’s sake and that they should make certain that their comrades were sleeping in Japanese soil. Now though he (and Koito if his white irises and vein popping are to be taken as a hint) is pissed off because he fears Tsurumi’s goal is just his own personal way of mourning his wife and daughter...

...and I facepalm again. Hard.

Now, okay, Koito can be pissed off, he made clear he uphold certain values and that he believed Tsurumi was doing it for a selfless reason only, the well being of his own soldiers, plus he had never experienced being poor so he can’t understand why people would want to be rich. He’s young, he was used and lied at but still wanted to trust Tsurumi to be more noble than he was so okay, he can be angry.

Tsukishima though was okay with tailing after Tsurumi even when he didn’t know which is true goal was...

...even when he believed Tsurumi might not have a true goal...

...just because he wanted to believe what Tsurumi was doing would benefit the ones following him... and now he is upset because Tsurumi had a goal... but one that was beneficial to Tsurumi? How was Tsurumi not having a goal better?

And how this change the game, really?

If Tsurumi’s actions were genuinely better for the men in the 7th, they remain beneficial regardless of Tsurumi’s ultimate goal, which isn’t meant to harm them, after all.

And just because Tsukishima decided to sacrifice his love story with Igogusa (which, Tsurumi’s lies or not, was something Tsukishima decided on his own)... well, this doesn’t mean everyone has to do the same as him.

But whatever, as anticipated before, Tsurumi used Sofia’s sense of guilt to ask her to tell him and Asirpa what happened in Hokkaido. He’s clearly talking about the Nopperabou incident and he explains he believes Sofia should know about it due to the letters she got from Kiroranke.

Well, the good thing in all this is that, if Tsurumi is asking her about the incident, this seems to hint that, as I speculated, he doesn’t know exactly what happened (unless he’s sure Kiro had false info which he relied her... but I doubt that’s the case).

In his anger, Tsukishima fails to understand that asking Sofia about what happened in the Nopperabou incident might:

- give Tsurumi clues about where the gold was (the incident took place when the Ainu moved the gold)

- tell him if there’s more people involved who could try to get into Tsurumi’s way

- make Asirpa feel guilty for the dead Ainu and more prone to help Tsurumi,

All this of course depending on what truly happened back then... but I think Tsurumi has some theories in this regard and he’s asking merely because he thinks Sofia’s words, which Asirpa won’t question because Sofia wouldn’t have any reason to lie, would be beneficial to him.

Sofia starts crying at all this, breaking down and admitting what we already knows, that Kiro believed ‘Wilk changed’.

The only new addition to all this is that it confirms Kiro believed Wilk changed because Asirpa was born... but this doesn’t really tell us if Wilk changed the day Asirpa was born or later, as the change could have been gradual and we saw that Kiro seemed to have a good relationship with Wilk after Asirpa’s birth

(and we know, for Wilk’s own admission, he wanted to raise Asirpa to be a guerrilla fighter capable of leading the Ainu...

...and taught her how misplaced sympathy could become a weakness and who’s weak gets eaten, how they can’t hesitate to kill (a bear cub) for fear of being cruel or they’ll die (of starvation)).

Kiro also said Wilk saw a light in Asirpa, a light of hope for the Ainu,

...which also fits with how Kiro himself entrusted the future to Asirpa and Sofia,

...and how Asirpa’s name means ‘future’.

Long story short, we still don’t know anything new as it was clear Asirpa ended up affecting Wilk but how and why Kiro believed this constituted betrayal worth killing him is completely up to speculation.

I stand my ground on the fact I believe if Kiro thought Wilk had to die, it was because he believed Wilk betrayed the partisan cause, which, among partisans, has always been a crime punishable with death.

Still I genuinely doubt Asirpa’s birth caused Wilk to turn into a pro-imperialist or that it caused him to stop caring about the minorities... and since Kiro didn’t try to kill him prior to the Nopperabou incident, I’ll say the problem didn’t exactly start with Asirpa’s birth.

On the other side I don’t think Kiro is lying, he genuinely believed Wilk changed.

We’re clearly missing how Wilk changing became something that caused or was connected to the Nopperabou incident and made him worthy of being killed later, without even being questioned.

Ogata hinted that Kiro might have been afraid Wilk would reveal something about Kiro to Sugimoto...

...but I somehow have troubles seeing Kiro killing all those Ainu since Kiro seemed reluctant to kill Inkarmat, who was clearly a big hindrance and didn’t want Sugimoto, who was a potential hindrance, to be shoot.

Besides Kiro clearly didn’t know where the gold was, so I’ve troubles thinking he would just murder all those Ainu without even trying to get info from them.

Could it really be possible Wilk make a 180° turn and wanted to hand the gold to the Japanese even if, apparently, when he was arrested, he was trying to escape in Karafuto with the gold so that he could bring it to his companions?

Or did he wanted to hand it to the Japanese authorities because he came to believe the Ainu, the partisans and the revolutionaries wouldn’t know how to use it to benefit their cause and would only make matter worse?

Difficult to believe so as, even if we’re to assume he decided that fighting was wrong, the gold could be used in small parts to improve Ainu’s life by buying necessities for them if times were to become harsh (just think at how the locust attack damaged Kirawus’ village food resources... if they had some gold they could have bought the missing food).

Or was Wilk trying to use it to BUY the Ainu’s freedom from the Japanese, not with weapons but with the gold itself, buying the whole Hokkaido island in Boutarou’s style, therefore betraying the Russian cause as they would remain to their own devices? It would seem an aiful naive plan from him besides it was hinted he still wanted to pursue his own dream of a far east federation for minorities by how he clung to those gold coins up till the time he was captured.

But still, we’re missing some big piece of the puzzle... which we don’t get in this chapter as the story kind of goes back a little to show us Sugimoto and Shiraishi in the bottlecar, just out of the church Sugimoto is in.

They had seen Koito get into the church, meaning they got there before Tsurumi started speaking with Sofia and Asirpa.

Shiraishi would like to rush in to rescue but Sugimoto is uncharacteristically prudent, saying Shiraishi they should go call Hijikata, because if they rush in they could be in numerical disadvantage.

Shiraishi though is worried of what Tsurumi could do to Asirpa but Sugimoto insists Tsurumi should know he can’t rely on information gotten with torture so, differently from Tsukishima, he figured out Tsurumi will try to get information from her of her own free will slowly.

Shiraishi is still worried and references how Tsurumi behaved oddly in the volume version of what happened in Karafuto (because in the magazine version the poor guy actually acted in a pretty normal way) then notices Sugimoto is actually wishing badly he could rush in and decides Sugimoto might be right.

Honestly I should give kudos to Sugimoto for managing to figure this out. From after Tsurumi got his hands on Asirpa he had been uncharacteristically smart, analyzing his opponent (Tsurumi) and understanding his moves, from how Tsurumi wouldn’t part with Asirpa to how he wouldn’t torture her but try to get info out of her willingly.

On a sidenote actually you can get reliable info through torture if you manage to keep control of your victim (meaning if he lied to you torture will just start all over) or if you’ve someone to use to blackmail that person but whatever, let’s go on.

Sugimoto and Shiraishi decide them to go call Hijikata, slam the car against a pole and fly out of it.

The chapter ends here but if Nikaidou is really around there to keep guard as Tsurumi told him to do...

...and spot Sugimoto we can count on him to go in berserk mode, scream ‘SUGIMOTO SAICHI! MY NAME IS NIKAIDOU KOUHEI. YOU KILLED MY BROTHER! PREPARE TO DIE!’ and reveal to everyone how Sugimoto and Shiraishi are there, possibly interrupting the whole interrogatory and letting us wonder for many more chapters WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED DURING THE NOPPERABOU INCIDENT. So please Nikaidou, don’t be around or scream discreetly. We don’t really want you to bother Tsurumi, Sofia and Asirpa NOW.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, Mockingbird.”

Based on a request I received in my asks for some fluff. I think you guys will like it, or at least I hope you do :) 

He couldn’t  remember much of the last few days. Everything was a blur of motion, pain and dizziness. He couldn't tell if he was staying up or lying down or running in circles or spinning inside an F-90 Darkfire going nine times faster than the speed of sound. It felt like he was constantly pulling almost 9-Gs staying awake was impossible, but at the same time, so was falling asleep.

He felt horrible, sick.

He thought he remembered throwing up a few times, but he could have been wrong.

However, he did remember the aching, a pain that throbbed through his body like he had a horrible flu. His muscles ached, his bones ached, his blood might as well have ached. Everything around him echoed, the lights pulsed in and out. 

He was nauseous and so very, very cold.

The shivering ache in his bones did nothing to help the horrible throbbing of his muscles, especially the muscles in his back.

He thought he heard voices a few times, mingling with the echoes and spinning with the lights over his head. The world began to spin to his left, and he tried controlling the nausea like he would in the cockpit of a jet, but for some reason all his normal tricks weren’t working. His stomach churned.

He fell in and out of consciousness.

His eyes opened and then closed. He was on his side, or at least he thought he was. The nausea wasn’t so bad anymore, but his mouth tasted horrible.

He closed his eyes against the spinning.

He was falling backwards now.

And he was so so tired. His head was resting against something soft, now something hard. More voices echoed.

He tried to make them out, but every time he did he only felt more horrible, more nausea building up on his insides.

“Anything.” The voice faded in and out plunging downward, deepening and stretching out for long minutes forcing him to miss the rest of the conversation. He tried to open his eyes, and was almost immediately blinded. The lights above his head warped and twisted stretching one way and then flattening in the other direction.

Then it doubled and they began to dance back and forth against each other.

“Adam.”

The sound echoed in his head as if it had been yelled into a narrow canyon.

He had trouble remembering what the sounds meant.

His head was throbbing.

More lights.

He flinched away squeezing his eyes shut and immediately fell back in. The nausea overcame him again followed by the dizziness and the vertigo until he couldn’t open his eyes.  He spun back and forth and back and forth his muscles aching, his body throbbing. The shivering got worse , and it wouldn’t have mattered if there were blankets or not. 

He just felt so horrible.

That could have gone on for an eternity as far as he knew. An eternity of spinning, bright lights and echoing voices  interspersed with uneasy moments of sleep characterized by horrific nightmares. Nightmares that contained faceless monsters, strange alien creatures and his own inevitable failure.

And then he fell asleep, finally.

It started off in small bouts of silent restfulness, a deep and soothing darkness that relaxed his body and calmed his mind. When he floated towards the surface, almost awake, he could hear voices, and thought that he could at least understand them.

“How is he today, doc?”

“He’s doing better, sleeping more. The drugs took a real toll on his system. I doubt the admiral was entirely correct about what exactly was in those drugs.”

“He’s lucky to have you. He wouldn’t have survived the overdose otherwise.”

And then he was gone again, sinking back down,

He would have had no way of knowing how long he was out, and when he woke up again, just a little clearer than last time, he heard.

“Why not a medically induced coma, at least then he wouldn’t be in pain.”

“I determined that this was the safer decision in the state he is in. Don’t worry, things are slowly getting easier. He’s sleeping hours at a time now.”

Another voice, “no more vomiting, though that may be just because he’s running on empty.”

He let himself sink away this time, finding that he was getting better at controlling it. He stayed longer this time, curled up in the safety of the darkness where it was warm, and pain free. However, this time he was woken up by a voice.

“Dr. Katie thinks you might be able to hear us. Says you sort of drift in and out.” Though the ache in his body was still there the familiarity of the voice eased his mind, “It was…. An honor to fight with you. I only wish it could have been under better circumstances..” A hand rested on his upper arm, “For a human, you make a pretty good Drev.” 

Something warm touched his hand, or at least he thought it was his hand. When it pulled away his hand was wet.

“Waffles misses you. We haven’t been able to move her without her getting really agitated.” Something soft caressed against his fingers, a soft whimpering pulsing through the air. Soft waves of air to caress his ears. 

He tried to open his eyes, but the dizziness hit him again and, suddenly, he could hardly function. He sunk away again occasionally aware of a furry, warm snout nudging his hand as he slept.

“Hey, Commander…. Adam. yeah anyway, Sunny thinks we should talk to you, so Mav and I are here….er Ramirez.”

“So eloquent.”

“Shut up it's not like he’s expecting a soliloquy, what do you want me to do compose shakespeare.”

“I’d Like to see that.”

“Shut up, anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted/, we are, the crew i mean, are all rooting for you, and we will be here when you’re ready to wake up. Also, please wake up, the spiderlings haven't stopped freaking out since you went under. I can’t exactly tell if they are crying or not but they are making some weird ass noises…. How about you Mav, you got anything to say?”

“Just if you don’t wake up in the next week, I am going to shake you awake and kick your bitch ass for making us wait so long. I am not a patient person.”

“As empathetic as always Mav.”

This time he felt as if he had been asleep for longer, feeling rather than hearing people pass through. He recognizes some return offenders, though some of them were there for a purpose.

“You know, Comm- I mean, Adam. Sometimes I blame you for making me more human. You took away one of the things that made my life easy, and then you gave me empathy. Now I, well having my friends gone hurts. It doesn’t make any logical sense from a proper Vrul standpoint .But you made me into…. Not much of a vrul anymore . You gave me empathy, and friends, and a social life…..” silence, “And I fucking hate it…. But at the same time I don’t. You hear that, I both hate it and don’t hate it at the same time like that is possible. I’m making as much sense as a human .”

More drawn silence.

“Look, I know what you said and how you acted in the suit weren’t you, but I just….. I need….. … I need you to wake up, so I know, so I know that everything is ok between us. The anticipation is killing me more than anything.”

He felt warm inside, and the shivering was dying down. He supposed that was a good thing, and following that moment he thought he might have slept the entire night through, though he could still tell that opening his eyes was going to be a problem. When he awoke, he awoke to a melody, someone signing quietly.

He recognized it, a distant memory from and even more distant childhood.

The song must have been thousands of years old, and for that reason it was….. Sweet.

“Still gets me today that a thousand years ago someone’s mother was singing their baby to sleep with that.”

A soft hand on his.

A gentle touch at the IV in his arm, “Hope you don't mind me singing to myself, or talking. I don’t usually do it when krill is around, he wouldn’t understand. Or maybe he would, but…. It feels weird. I was pretty weird you know, never really figured out why. Guess that’s what I get for wanting to be a librarian when I was little. Became a doctor instead, “ Dr Katie  laughed, “My how things change. Its honestly crazy to me you ended up with the exact job you wanted….. Bet you didn’t think it would be this hard ....” She trailed off, and there was silence for a long time before she began to sing to herself again.

Her voice wove patterns through his dreams

Hush little baby don’t say a word

Moma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.

He spun slowly around and around in circles descending downward.

And if that mockingbird don’t sing 

The warmth grew back up around him, enfolding him from all sides like the embracing arms of a lover.

Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.

He could have slept for days after that dreaming on and off barely knowing what was real and what was inside his head. The world didn’t spin anymore, and his body only ached slightly. The nausea was simply a general discomfort through his darkness, and he could ignore it easily enough.

“You better wake up soon. Seems like you have been in here long enough.”

Was that Conn? 

Couldn’t be.

“You dirty rat bastard.” Nope that was him alright, “I expect you get out here soon….. It is rather lonely in my head….”

Other hands, other voices, other confessions, some cold some warm, felt through his insides like each person was pouring liquid of different temperatures into his blood, pumping through his chest and heart. 

Eventually, the world stopped spinning completely, the echoes died away, and he was left alone in his own head finally with the ability to think consciously, as conscious as he was between bouts of sleep. The nausea was still there, but it might have been due to hunger more than anything else.

The next time he woke up, things were different. The last time it had been as if he was rising through dark water only to be separated from the surface by a pane of one way glass he couldn’t crack.

This time, the pane of glass was gone, and light and sounds poured in around him.

He first became aware of sound, the quiet muttering of conversation, the beeping of machines, and the clattering of tools. Someone was laughing distantly.

Secondly, he was aware of a weight pressed against his side. It was soft and warm, and as he lay there he felt it move. Something rested on his stomach, just under his chest. Whatever it was let off a long drawn out sigh and a yawn.

Lastly , there was light.

For a second he thought he had gone partially blind, but realized his eyes were still closed.

He stayed like that for a little bit, adjusting before.

Flexing his fingers.

And immediately noticed the absence of the steel eye armor.

The relief was incredible. 

His hands were stiff, and the joints ached a little, but slowly he was able to open his hand.

Moving was harder, and it brought back the muted ache from earlier.

His fingertips brushed over sheets as his hand moved up brushing fur, and the warm muscled body underneath.

He stroked a hand through Waffle’s fur.

The lifted her head in surprise, then, with a whimper scooted forward resting her head on his chest nosing him with her snout.

He lifted his hand to stroke her ears.

She licked once as his face catching him in the jaw with her warm slimy tongue.

There was a creaking noise just to his side, “Hey, Girl, everything alright?”

The dog whimpered.

Whoever it was stood.

“Krill.” 

He tried opening his eyes flooded with light before blinking. The dog whimpered again.

He turned his head from the lights trying to blink away the haze.

“Adam. Can you hear us?”

He blinked a few more times squinting against the light until the world around him slowly resolved, light fading backwards.

First, he saw the ceiling, and the overhead lights, curtain rods with the curtains pulled open, an IV bag, medical machines. Looking down he saw his own feet under blankets, and finally the warm worried eyes of his dog. The look she gave him was one of such sincere concern  that, for a moment, he was worried he might be dying. Upon making eye contact she scooted even further forward resting one paw on his chest  snuffling at his face and licking him across the cheek.

“Easy girl.” someone said 

He turned his head a little further brows still furrowed falling on a familiar spidery form floating to the side.

“Adam?” Krill said again.

It took him a few seconds to understand turning his head to the other side where a tall blue figure was standing her gold eyes struck with worry.

He turned his head back to Krill.

“We’re good.”

The dog continued to nuzzle at him rubbing her head against his shoulder trying to get his attention. Overhead the two aliens relaxed visibly, “What was that?”’ Krill asked leaning forward to look him over.

“You wanted to know….. If we were still good…..” Trying to talk past his dry nasty tasting mouth was unpleasant. He smacked his lips, “And I wanted to say that we are.”

The relief broke even further.

Krill was speechless.

Sunny laughed in relief, or at least the equivalent for a Drev.

Dr. Katie poked her head around from the right side curtain, “You’re awake!”

He had both hands up now patting the dog’s ears as she frantically nuzzled forward tail slapping against the bed railing. His right hand was taped up, the tube of an IV sticking into his hand.

He was still very fuzzy and tired.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Better than…. I was…. Before.” A light flicked from one eye to the other, and he squinted, “Hey…” Even his mechanical eye didn’t seem pleased.

“Just making sure your brain is in tact. 

“It never was.” He mumbled.

The dog had  her head resting on his shoulder now, “Surprised you…. Let her stay.”

“I was worried she might bite me.”

Sunny patted the dog’s back.

“Hey, Krill there are a few people at the door come to check in on the Commander.”

“Tell them to stay out. The commander needs his rest.”

Adam raised a hand, “Wait… no… it's ok.”

“You can barely string two words together.” Krill scolded

“Just five minutes and then....” His voice was slightly slurred, “And then I’ll do…. Whatever.”

“Fine, five minutes.”

He closed his eyes briefly listening as feet shuffled across the floor, and soft voices murmured up around him.

“Commander.”

He opened his eyes to see a huddle of marines standing at the end of his bed. Ramirez, Mav, CJ and a few others.

“You alright?”

“Terrific.”

“They must have you on some good drugs.”

“Actually no…. Due to the nature of his stay, he’s actually sober right now.”

The marines laughed, only to be silenced by Krill, “If that’s the case you definitely need sleep.” Ramirez patted his foot, “Don’t let us get in your way, rest, relax, do what you need to do.”  They were ushered out as quickly as they had come, he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. The dog’s breath was warm against his throat from where her head rested on his shoulder.

Off in the corner he watched a set of white ribbons gently waving in the subtle air currents of the ship.”

“Welcome back,” Said a voice, unbidden inside his head.

“Bitch.” he thought.

“Dumbass.” Came the reply 

He leaned his head back the pillow cool and soothing against his aching neck. He reached up a hand absently letting it hang in the air until something took it. Sunny’s skin was warm compared to his own.

His head lolled sideways.

And he was gone.

[yastaghr]

Nightmare’s Gang of Wranglers 3

Summary: The first ride and the first camp are achieved. The fire brings out something new in everyone.

Link: The first ride and the first camp are achieved. The fire brings out something new in everyone.

The first ride of the trip was always the most problematic. This trip was no exception. Nightmare had sighed when Ink had lost his stirrups the first time. The next three times had been annoying. After that it had ceased to be annoying and started to become funny. Rustle wasn’t going to let him fall, and it wasn’t like Nightmare himself hadn’t ridden without stirrups before. Just so long as he kept his heels down Nightmare would be happy.

But that was just the start of the problems. Dream was turning out to be just as annoying as he knew he’d be, but for an entirely different problem. That problem had a name. His name was Cross. Cross, apparently, hadn’t taken enough heed of all the stories Nightmare had shared with his gang about Dream. Cross was too thirsty for that. He was taking full advantage of his position behind Dream to watch his ass. Yes, he said it was because he wanted to be sure of the other’s seat, but Nightmare knew better. One, he knew that Dream’s seat was impeccable, and two, he could see the purple blush on Cross’ cheeks. He was just lucky that Dream didn’t notice. He would only pay for ogling a client, not for trying to go behind Killer’s and Nightmare’s backs.

The next problem was Dust. It was always like this; as soon as he thought Nightmare had gone out of his hearing range he started talking to his brother. Nightmare sighed. Blue didn’t seem too disturbed, but that couldn’t be said of his pony. Berry hadn’t ridden near Dust recently, so the gelding must have forgotten about his chattering. His ears were constantly swiveled back, but Blue seemed to be handling him well. His seat was good and his hands were soft even as he maintained control over the horse. That made Nightmare feel better about letting him stay there.

The last problem, and one that Nightmare had been predicting, was Ink’s paints. Their sloshing around was scaring the pack train. Blood and Sugar eventually had the whole line stop so they could redistribute the load. That seemed to calm down the mules, but Cherry was being his usual spooky self. That was okay. They were used to Cherry’s spookiness.

Nightmare was impressed when they made the first stopping place in reasonable time. He had allowed for much more malarky than actually occurred. Unfortunately it looked like they needed that time. The camp was in shambles. If Nightmare had to guess he would have said that a herd of elk had bedded down there recently. The trees were still leaking sap, the grass was laid flat by the weight of those sleeping bodies, and the tents that were the sleeping areas were torn to the ground. Nightmare sighed. It would take at least an hour to fix everything.

His crew immediately ground tied their horses and got to work. Dust and Blood saw to the grass, fluffing it up so that the horses could actually eat. Cross set to gathering firewood and wiping down the trees. Sugar looked after the pack train. Error used his strings to fix the tents, and Killer helped Ink to dismount. Dream and Blue had gotten down and were looking around.

“How can we help, brother?” Dream said instantly, Blue right beside him. Nightmare blinked his one eye at him. He hadn’t expected them to want to help.

“Why don’t you… help Sugar unload the food for tonight?” He eventually said. He still didn’t trust his brother, not after what he had done, but he knew that unpacking the mules would be very hard to mess up.

Dream and Blue nodded, ground tied their horses, and walked calmly over to Sugar. Good. They at least knew better than to spook the horses.

=====

Killer’s soft voice interrupted his focus on his brother. “Somebody’s got a crush, huh?”

Nightmare spun to face him. Killer had his signature grin on his face, and his soul was beating at a speed Nightmare recognized as happy. Nightmare relaxed slightly and said, “I didn’t realise Cross was being so obvious. He’s been ogling Dream’s ass this entire time.”

Killer chuckled. Nightmare didn’t see what was so funny. “Yeah, Cross. The big guy’s always had a soft spot for people who dote on the horses.”

Nightmare tilted his head. He didn’t particularly remember Cross being like that in the past, but Killer was miles away more observant than he was. That was why Nightmare trusted him to be his second in command. He was a general; Killer was his chief of intelligence. Neither of them could operate without the other. And they both needed Cross to keep the peace between them and guard against the dangers of the road.

“Well, he’d better be prepared to meet the consequences of his actions. Dream is a client, and he is definitely not a part of our relationship. What would you say would be an appropriate punishment? 15 lashes?”

Killer grinned. If there was ever a monster who was the definition of a sadist, it was Killer.  “Oh, at least. I’d say we edge him a few times, too.”

Nightmare shook his head. He had the final say in this, and he thought that that was going a bit too far. “It’s only been a few hours, Killer. If he continues this behaviour tomorrow, then we can think about edging him. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Killer said, saluting. Then he wandered off to begin unsaddling the horses for the night and getting everything ready for supper.

=====

Blue was fascinated by the fire. He could vaguely hear the rest of the Star Sanses and Nightmare’s Gang moving around, setting up things for the night, cooking food on the other side of the fire, and, in Ink’s case, chattering away. None of that really mattered to him right now, though. His whole attention was consumed by the fire.

It had been so long since he had seen an untamed fire like this. When he was younger he saw them every weekend while his Dad was still alright and well. Then, after his accident, Blue had seen them every night as he struggled to raise a child all on his own. Then Stretch had grown up enough to say he hated the smell of smoke and that was that. Blue hadn’t realized how much he missed it until now.

Blue’s hypnotized state ended when one of Nightmare’s Gang sat next to him and passed him a cup. Blue looked into it. It seemed to have… ketchup?

“Here, drink it. I’ve never met a Sans who didn’t like a condiment, and you’re pretty cute, so enjoy,” The stranger said. His voice was deeper than Blue would have pictured, deeper and hoarser. Blue would have predicted the hoarseness after all of the talking this monster had done today.

Blue honestly wasn’t sure who the monster behind him had been talking to, but he couldn’t judge. One of his best friends still hadn’t stopped talking. Ink would have been hoarse had he been a normal monster. He wasn’t.  It wasn’t that he was crazy. Ink was the kind of anomaly that rules had to be built around. So was the dark boned skeleton Blue recognized from a few years ago. Now if only Blue knew his n-

“What’s your name, anyway? I’m Sans, obviously, but most people call me Dust. Not my brother, though. He still calls me Sans,” Dust said with a grin, his mismatched eye lights shining bright. The concentric rings of red and purple were almost as fascinating as the fire.

“I’m Blue,” he said, startled, “Technically it’s Dr. Blue, but I don’t actually practice at the moment, so most people call me Blue. My brother calls me Sans, though, too.”

The wide smile that shone from Dust’s skull was dazzling. Blue’s eye lights widened as he took it in. Wow, Dust was cute. A blush spread across Blue’s maxilla, along with a hesitant smile. Maybe he could do something about that? Stretch wouldn’t be happy, but he already wasn’t happy about this little trip. What would be the harm in having a little fun?

“Well, Dr. Blue, I’d love to have you examine me sometime,” Dust said, waggling his brow bones.

Oh, that was flirting! Blue knew what to do with flirting. He batted his eyelids back at Dust and leaned in. “Oh, I’d be happy to. I’m sure you have some pieces of your anatomy that can fascinate me for hours. I might even have one or two suggestions that would make your life more… pleasurable! Mweh heh heh heh!”

=====

Ink overheard his friend laughing and grinned from ear to ear. “Yay, Blue! I’m glad he’s feeling good enough to laugh. He’s always so stuffy! That was one of the reasons we took this trip; to make Blue relax a bit! He-”

“Stars, do you ever shut up?” Error growled. He was securing the last string to the ground with some kind of spike. Ink didn’t know the names of any of this stuff, and he barely knew Error’s name. As far as he was aware he had never left the city before. Then again, his memory was absolutely horrible. Not as bad as Blue’s dad’s, but still objectively horrible. Good thing he wasn’t objective!

“Nope!” Ink said, popping the p. “I don’t like it when things are quiet at all! It’s super scary and makes me feel isolated and alone in a place where no one can rescue me. The same thing happens if I see too much of the color white! It’s kind of a trigger, so I fill up the silence with as much noise as I can and make lots of art! I’m constantly repainting the walls of my apartment, and I always have some music playing at home.”

Error was giving Ink the funniest look. It was almost… sympathetic? Curiosity sparked in Ink’s mind. Why would anyone relate to an experience like that? Ink was about to ask when Error spoke up. “That’s stupid. You’ve got actual friends, idiot. They’re not going to abandon you.”

Ink nodded. “I know that, but that’s not how triggers work. Triggers are totally illogical. They’re weird little psychological phenomena that we don’t fully understand. A trigger can be anything from the smell of lilacs, to the taste of chemo medicine, to the feeling of tulle between your toes, to the sight of a specific crack on the ceiling of your house, to-”

“The sound of door locks? Those ones with a full bar you lock into place with a key?” Error asked suddenly.

Ink took in the sight of him. Error looked haunted. Interesting. Ink’s curiosity made him a promise: he would find out everything about Error and his past that he could to satisfy his own curiosity. If he was going to do that, however, he needed to win Error’s trust.

“Yeah! That’s definitely something that could be a trigger,” Ink said, then he went on, “and it’s not like you’d have to know why it was a trigger, either. Sometimes we just have something that’s triggering to us without any explanation. Dream is that way about moles. The little furry animal, I mean. Totally sends him into a panic attack whenever they show up in a nature documentary we’re watching. Blue now likes to pre-screen any movies we’re going to see, just in case. Actually, he pre-screens them for a lot of things. Useless sex scenes, for one.”

Error snorted. Ink blinked at him, feeling an unfamiliar paint combination roll over him. He couldn’t have put a name to it, but there were bits of yellow, pink, and green in there. Yellow was happiness of all sorts, pink was affection or love, and green was the need for something. It could be the need for information, or food, or a plan, or… anything, really.

“Don’t,” Error snorted, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those sex purists who thinks you should only have sex after marriage. That’s so stupid.”

Ink laughed his own unique laugh that couldn’t decide between being a chuckle and a giggle. “No, I just think that those stupid sex scenes take away from the body of the story. Sometimes they’re good, but mostly they’re just put in for horny fans. They don’t even make any sense. People just don’t hop into bed with perfect strangers at the drop of the hat. At least, not any sane people. Not that sanity’s earned its good ratings, mind you.”

“Well that’s true,” Error agreed with distaste. “Sex shouldn’t be some kind of spectacle for anyone to see. I know I wouldn’t want anyone but my lover or lovers to see me like that. I might be the most handsome skeleton in existence, but that doesn’t mean I want to show myself off.”

It was Ink’s turn to snort. “You? Handsome? Your bones are black, Error. Don’t you know that the darker your bones are the less handsome of a skeleton you are?”

Error’s grin was absolutely crazy, and Ink couldn’t help but mirror it. It looked like so much fun! “That’s what they want you to think! After all, so many people are cursed with white bones. They had to come up with some way to boost everyone’s egos. Telling them that white bones are best is a good PR spin! I bet even you believe it about your own bones!”

Ink blinked at him, then slipped out of his overshirt and bared his bones. They were covered in patterns, almost random, that had more black to them than white. “It’s not like my bones are all white, though. I guess that means that, by your definition, I’m ugly, too! Oh well.”

Error’s larger eye light was now almost as wide as his socket. The other one, the grey one, had wandered off. Ink wondered if he could even see out of that eye or if he just had lazy eye. Either way it was disconcerting. “Well… you’re not that ugly. You’re less ugly than all those bleached-boned idiots in the movies. After all, you have some black on there. And the contrast looks… kind of nice, if a bit blurry. D’ya mind taking a step back?”

“Why?” Ink asked, tilting his head curiously.

“It’s none of your business why, chatterbox!” Error screeched, “Just do it!”

Ink sighed. He’d been doing so well with winning Error over, but nothing worth doing was worth doing too fast. He stepped back a few paces. “Alright, Error. Is this good?”

Error was too busy studying Ink’s patterns to answer. Ink studied his expression, committing it to memory. It was so… fascinating… the way he was staring at Ink. The play of light on the black bone of his skull was so enchanting, and the lines of his mouth were inviting in a way Ink couldn’t place. He longed to sketch it. Maybe later, after dinner, although the fire wouldn’t be  the ideal light source. Needs must, though!

=====

Killer grinned as everyone took up their positions around the fire. The small blue skeleton and Dust were already seated, flirting with each other like there was no tomorrow. The artist and Error were arguing, but it involved more words out of Error than Killer had heard the entire time he’d been working for them. Blood and Sugar were sitting as far apart as they could stand, cooking the food and shooting each other longing glances. Cross was sitting at attention next to Dream and shooting him the most adoring looks. Dream seemed just about as oblivious as Nightmare could be. He was staring into space, zoning out. That left Killer to work on Nightmare. Perfect.

“Hey, Boss~” Killer purred as he slid in next to Nightmare, taking one of his tentacles into his hands and slowly massaging it. It was tense as hell. It was pretty obvious who was causing their leader so much stress. His eye light was fixed on Dream like it had been nailed in place.

“Yes, Killer?” Nightmare said distractedly, his eye light not leaving Dream, “What is it?”

Killer brought the tentacle up to his teeth, kissing it. “The tension in your aura is palpable, Boss. You need to relax a bit. Let me lavish you with all the attention you so richly deserve.”

Nightmare turned to face him, his eyebrow raised and his one eye light showing Killer his amusement. “Laying it on a little thick tonight, aren’t you? What are you trying to do, impress me? You know you already do. Or are you trying to distract me from Cross’ misbehaviour? I can see him over there. He’s acting like a lovestruck teenager.”

So are you, Killer thought to himself, a lovestruck teenager that’s fallen in love with his biggest rival. Out loud he said, “If you want to say that about Cross you have to say that about all of them. Dust is flirting with that small blue one like it’s his favorite hobby, Blood and Sugar are doing their Romeo and Juliet act, and Error is arguing so much with that artist that I wouldn’t be surprised if his voice wasn’t hoarse tomorrow.”

“The small one is called Blue and the artist’s name is Ink,” Nightmare said absently.

Killer blinked at him, then smiled his most winning smile - the one he wore when he was trying not to get caught at something sketchy. “You know, it would probably be a good idea if we introduced everyone before matching people up for the night. Why don’t I get everyone’s attention and you can tell people who they’ll be sleeping with?”

Nightmare tore his eye light off of Dream just long enough to narrow it at Killer. Then he sighed and shrugged. “Fine, then. No knives, though. I know you like to show off, but please, save it for another time.”

Killer saluted with the half-ironic, half-serious form that drove Nightmare crazy. “Got it, Boss!”

Then he turned to the center of the fire everyone was gathered around, raised his hands to his mouth, and hollered, “Heylalo, skellies! Listen up, the boss has something to say!”

Eight heads turned to face him with expressions that varied from annoyance to curiosity to mildly dissociative. Killer frowned slightly. Blood he could understand, but why would Dream be dissociating? Had something happened to him since he and Nightmare parted ways? Or was it just the general absentmindedness of a normal monster? Killer vowed to find out.

Nightmare’s grunt interrupted his thoughts. Killer turned to face his handsome datemate and listened closely to the orders of the night. “Now that I have your attention, I’m going to introduce you all and tell you who you’ll be sleeping with. Remember that these arrangements might change as the trip goes on, so if you can’t handle sleeping with someone please let me know. Blood, Sugar,” He pointed to the two of them in turn, “you’ll be sleeping together in the red tent. Ink, Blue,” Again he pointed to each of them in turn, “You’ll be sleeping in the blue tent. Killer, Dream,” He signaled who each of them was, “you have the yellow tent. Error, Dust, please take the black tent,” He gestured at both of them. “Finally, Cross and myself will take the green tent. My name is Nightmare. Now, does anyone have any questions?”

The boss studied each face in turn, as did Killer. They would compare notes later.

Cross was blushing and averting his eyes from Nightmare’s face. He knew he was in trouble for today, but that didn’t stop him from looking forward to being punished. It never had before.

Blue was looking at Dust with longing and a flushed face. The expression was mutual. Interesting. Maybe they should be paired up in a tent tomorrow night. Dust could use a bit of a chance to unwind.

Ink had clearly lost interest in the conversation. He was looking around at the clearing with his hand twitching in the air. Long strokes, short curves, and forceful jabs would have painted a picture if Ink had only been holding a paintbrush. Killer would have bet any amount of money that he was already planning a drawing or two of their surroundings. Artists were like that.

Blood was eyeing the food with hunger, as usual. After what he had been through it was hardly a surprise. Sugar was beaming at his brother. Only his practiced eye told Killer that he was ready for their night’s more… intimate activities. Hopefully this time they wouldn’t get caught.

Dream was eyeing Killer with something like anxiety, except moreso. It almost looked like fear. It did look exactly like the expression Nightmare had turned on him the first time they’d been asked to share a tent. Huh.

Finally, there was Error. Error, as usual, was grumbling to himself. Killer knew exactly what he was upset about. He hated having to share a tent with anyone. He was always on edge, worried that they were going to bump into him in the night. He knew better by now, though, than to complain. Nightmare had no sympathy for his disgust at the touch of others anymore. No one had ever touched him at night. That wasn’t going to change.

Nightmare nodded when he was satisfied that no one was going to complain. “Good. Now, Blood, please serve out tonight’s food to everyone. It’s time to eat.”

[matteblackstars]

Nicholas x Tentacles : For Research

as requested by @catastrophicur fantasy verse + DP / sounding / throat fuckin’ / yes he’s a virgin / no its not written well, you know what, just keep walking, don’t look here

           Nicholas scampered down the halls with the type of excitement that had nearly everyone he passed looking nervously behind. Short cleric navigated past clergy with ease, slipping between droves of prayer walks that ended in disapproving scowls and heads shaking in disappointment. Not that he noticed, because he got the aFTernOOn oFF~ For research. Which terrified everyone. 

          Due to prior mishaps in the dorms, Nicholas was given his own room well away from the rest of the populace just in case he summoned another undead bear or 30ft snake that he still couldn’t find or the time when gravity reversed itself in the mess hall or-- needless to say, when half the clerics came down with a curse that made them dance nearly to death and the other half frozen in time reliving their trauma in a void-like hellscape, he was banished asked to move his studies far far away and to notify the higher ups when he was going to be doing something potentially dismal so they could avoid it. 

          So when the final piece of his spell finally arrived in the mail, he was beside himself running through the gardens to get to the abandoned wing of the church where he had been allowed to make camp. Dreary and a bit dusty, the large heavy door requires small thing’s whole body to push against and when he finally slips through, it opens up into a massive study. Books covered the walls and laid in haphazard stacks along the floor, papers spilling with ancient languages and symbols, candles and floating colorful orbs illuminating intricate gold writings, bones, potions, skulls, vials, gems, taxidermy rabbit, a mobile of the solar system, a mobile of a different solar system -- everywhere one looked there was something new and potentially dangerous lurking about. 

          His desk held a multitude of messy papers and ink pots filled with ink that shifted colors (one that looks suspiciously like blood), and a single thick heavy book. It was the same size if not wider than the cleric himself and it takes a strained heave to lift the cover before fingers rushed to find a particular page.           There.            It only takes him minutes to shuffle about his room, moving stacks of things out of the way to clear space on the floor and hunting down the bits and pieces of spell components that involved ink, a single bit of bone, chalk, and whatever else. The item he had been waiting for came in the shape of a small crystal pendant. Some easily made magicked trinket that produced as manny mirrors as the holder desired in any shape or size. The spell had a tiny hand written note on the side that strongly suggested its use and Nicholas wasn’t entirely sure why or how this aided in the spell, but mirrors had their own magical properties that he’d mentally note to delve into. Tall and rectangular, he follows the note’s directions until the space he’s made is surrounded by them floating delicately at the perimeter with gaps enough he can slip through. He takes a moment to proudly smile at himself in the corner of one and then another few minutes to apprehensively stare at the complicated chalk circle he’s made on the floor, wondering if it was... too big. He wanted to summon tentacles, not the whole tentacle monster. Or did he??

          There was a moment of doubt after everything was set up, last thing needed was the single drop of blood and ink to circle’s center, when his own eyes catch himself in a reflection.            “Am I being too nasty for this?”           Reflection shakes its head, of course not. It’s for fun. For research!            “Getting a handy by a tentacle for... research?”           You’re testing old magic that just happens to have the use of a few wiggly arms.            “And if it doesn’t listen...?”           Reflection chants back at him for research! for research! before short human is thoroughly convinced. For research. 

          Ink and blood fall with a deafening plop to its center, sleeves of thickly layered robes pushed up as far as they can so pale palms could press into the floor at circle’s sides, feeling the magic pulsate through limbs until incantation leaves the room silent. Chalk glows warmly, then dies out. The creaking groans of the walls and wood floor halting and little thing blinks, candle light flickering making the shadows dance and for a moment -- nothing happens. “WHAT” Disappointed bark has Nicholas flopping backwards and then forwards again to peer into the spell circle, sniffing bottle of ink and blood, wondering if it was his blood needed and-- well, that would make sense. Lips purse together, but the prick to his finger and the added dot of red leaves him full of expectation and.... noth-- oh?

          Leaning close, he can see movement, like a plant breaking its way through the surface of the earth, a single blackish-red tendril wiggles its way through. Arms shoot up with an excited YES, gaze bolting about as if someone would be there to congratulate him on his small success before immediately leaning down closer with words of encouragement. Maybe it was shy? Weak? It’s ok bb, Nicholas is here~ “There there little guy, come on, coooome on~” Chuckle brightens his face, completely forgetting the whole intent of bringing this thing out, and more focused on the fact that it was tiny and absolutely adorable. It wiggles nervously, then confidently, growing in size until finally Nicholas is sitting up and staring at it face to face. It’s inky looking and curious touch tells him it’s slimy but even that’s just clear with an almost oil-slick like sheen. 

          “Oh the staff at the cleaning staff would hate this--ACK??” Something touched his face! Head snaps around and in the reflected circle of the mirror is another tentacle, breaching its way through with curious intent toward summoner. Then another- and another-- “oh. Oh no, that’s too many--” Even in the circle before him do more start pulling themselves through, shapes and sizes varying as thin ones twisted about thicker bases, others nearing with clear intent to grab and-- “OOoooohkay, nope, we’re just going to just, stop all this. Do you understand me?” It’s definitely more of a nervous plead than a command. “I’m gonna need your friends to just... go back to-” Since when was there one wrapped around his ankle? And lord they were strong--

          “Hahaha-- ok ok, time to stop guys-- no-- no, don’t grab the other ankle, nooOOOoo-- I meAN IT--” The nervous panic was starting to set in as they took hold of each ankle that ignored his petty attempts at tearing them off and instead yanked legs apart with a loud yelp. The more he struggled, the more they seemed set on restraining him with their smooth heavy limbs, and even though feet kicked in an attempt to crawl backwards, his back smacked into the front of sturdy mirror that acted more like a wall caging him inside. Oil-slick slimy tentacles reaching from the mirror took their chance to drape over shoulders and slip into his neckline causing goosebumps across his skin. W-wait-- hey-- no no nO -- but the moment arm raises in protest, strong slick limb grabs his weak wrist, knee jerk reaction had frame twist to undo it, but all it does is make his free wrist captured. With arms now bound and ankles held taught apart, there’s a pause. Nicholas’ face contorted in frustration and then ultimately defeat as next tentacle wiggled across the floor in sly expectation over pants. 

          “F-fine. Fine!” Lips pursed together and things twisted in eager acknowledgement that had Nicholas bickering with it some more. “Oh- OH, So you CAN understand, fine! Just-- nothing too weird.” A mute point when he’s so compromised and a few more inky intruders start to tug and pull at his limbs until lower half is thoroughly spread and smaller constraints touch under clothes to elbow and knee. Another thicker one presses at his cheek approvingly, hugging against his neck in jaw as if that was some form of comfort before bold member slips beneath his pant line. 

          Now short cleric was... “pure”. Physically. Hands have enthusiastically explored himself and he was no stranger to relieving himself of his sexual frustrations, but this was the first time he’d had anyone but himself touch him and it showed. Any babbling he had done just seconds before cut themselves short and heart rate rises as warm limb grazed against him, sliding over balls and taint, between cheeks to come out the other side and wedge pants down just enough until butt sat on he chill floor and growing erection exposed if upper layers weren’t messily covering him. Something about not seeing what was happening only made everything more exciting, more nerve wracking as more eased their way beneath fabric to taste and squeeze gently over sensitive skin. 

          Anticipation and tinge of embarrassment has dark haired thing squirming with a single tentacle that wrapped around the base of him, easing itself upwards and back down again with ease. Then it moves a bit faster, others curling over sack with equally comforting tug, and it doesn’t take much for cleric to start breathing heavy against the limb that still licked at his cheek or try to hide behind elbows that were being raised ever higher by captors. It’s not until the smaller ones start writhing their way over the thick boys do things get overwhelming. 

          A long thin tip searches over penis head until it finds small slit to slowly wiggle into; gentle and curious, it presses in, waiting for any protest, and then out, repeating but going deeper while it joins brothers about the shaft, squeezing and releasing in an upward pulsing motion that has his legs trembling. It feels weird, tingling, and he has little control over how hips jerk desperately for escape or the friction at his wrists as tentacles tighten their grip there and at his ankles. Panting moans verge to the point of barely muffled whining, voice pitching and cracking with every wiggle as foreign limb slowly fucked itself into him. Another slithery blackish limb slid across pale thigh staying close to the crease of his leg before wrapping underneath his clothes possessively at his waist. Heat was pooling at the pit of his stomach with legs desperate to slam together, knees trembling as boiling point started to to get near. Panicked chest rising and falling, whatever this thing was, it realized he was getting close and started to move faster, wet suction growing stronger, and all too intrusive tip no longer leaving the hole it occupied, pumping with a dangerous speed that has Nicholas crying. 

          “Out-- Take it out-- Take it outtakeitoutplease-- PLEASE!!” Toes curled as he begged, overwhelmed tears welling up in the corner of his eyes before words are too complicated to say and tentacle slips out just as it gave conclusive squeeze and burst of cum decorated his stomach and thigh. Body jolts into silence that he’s finally granted release from his torture save for the echoed whine and pathetic needy whimpers that follow. Oh gross gross gross--! Shame is the first emotion to wash over him, embarrassment the next, and a tinge of fear-- why did that make him cum so hard?? Restraints give small cleric some slack and a welcomed relief as he tries to collect himself and palms smack tiredly against the floor. Head falls back against the mirror, hand resting on his chest with the realization that he’s been freed. Peace!! Peace at last -- mind evaluates himself and curious tug pulls clothes from over himself just to see the mess he’s left and that his dick was fine. Oh thank god. This relief last if only for a moment. 

          Single inky tendril slides sneakily towards his hip, feeling the air, attempting to take small tastes of his skin that Nicholas lazily tries to shoo away. Which was apparently the Wrong Thing To Do.

          The show of weakness has the same limb thick and strong, snatch at fragile waist, yanking him downwards onto his back with a hard thud. There was no time to yelp because the moment he does, mouth is occupied. Fat and heavy, slimy member forces its way to the back of his throat, excited by impulsive need for human to swallow and tighten around it. It’s patient enough to wait for Nicholas to stop struggling, a minute before he starts to breathe through his nose and then it moves, languidly pressing in hoping to feel the velvety vibrations of fragile mortal’s moans which would come soon enough. Beast, monster, demon -- thing doesn’t bother restraining arms (not that they weren’t eagerly feeling over their hopeless attempts to escape) because its focus was too busy working complicated layers of clothes to get at the softer fleshy bits. For Nicholas, it was hard to fight back when his attention was at his mouth trying to breathe, muffled protesting shouts dying off, and tongue curling instinctively about its surprisingly warm weight. Thoughts were a buzz and buzzing faster when he feels protective clothes leave him and holy garb torn to make way to his chest. He’s not sure if he’s completely bare, it wouldn’t have mattered now that pale skin was easy to mark and already was starting to turn pink in the places where tentacles had clung and sucked onto. 

          A multitude of thicker limbs caressed over him, feeling at the highs and lows of bone and muscle, and with nippled exposed, smaller mandibles slithered their way to dance and play with them. It doesn’t take long for distressed breathing to slow, acceptance as refractory period was rushed to a close, and soft muted moan surprised even him. He liked this -- sharp flick against his chest has him pressing his legs together, messy thighs sliding against each other while he takes what’s in his mouth a tad bit deeper. If he could swear he would, wondering if it was the lack of control or the feeling of captured prey that had him creeping up on next sinful sound.

          The tentacle at his waist smoothed underneath his back, lifting it to a small arch that Nicholas readily complied with, but he nearly chokes when lower half is flipped skyward. Thing must have sensed his tension and distraction came in the form of a strong thrust into his throat, a bit faster, a bit harder, then slowing down once the hands desperately hugged at the thing eased. Hands tried to grab for something else, something easier only to messily catch hold of the multitude of other tentacles that seemed to be joining to fray, curling around his legs that now hung over him. The embarrassment he felt before? Gone. Occasionally legs twitched and kicked, only to be haphazardly restrained while mandibles inched ever so dangerously close to the place no one has been in. Not that thing cared, it was busy coiling back over his hardening shaft, squeezing at balls and -- ok the embarrassments back when he’s hard again. Mind stimulated to a degree that was near overwhelming. 

          First to make curious prod is small, winding wet and slippery between exposed spread cheeks to tease at virgin hole, testing the waters and feeling his heart rate anxiously rise until breaching inward. Whimpered cry catches in his throat and once again legs try to right themselves with struggled jerk, back and behind wiggling in protest done more out of habit than need, but thick vice around his waist tightened and its tip pressed at his lower back so he was more firmly held in place. The one at his ass slid ever deeper, rhythmically pulsing at the edge, growing ever bigger the easier it was to stretch him wider, until it was finally built up enough to be fucking into him with wave-like motion that had little thing lightly bounding against the ground. 

          He’s melting into the floor moaning with little conscious need to hold back confused pitched sounds, every synapse bursting in strange new position when suddenly he tastes air. Deep breath gives way to shuddering sigh, tongue licking at wetted lips that had odd mix of saliva and mystery coating that had the faintest taste of magic to it and bleary eyes glance upwards to see the size of what was in his mouth now hungrily fall over tentacle-caged erection and taint to--

          “NO. HnGNGgghH-- W-Wait-- No-- I-- I can’t--ah-ah-aHW-Wait--” whether thing could understand him or not, pleading fell on deaf ears and tip was already wiggling and nudging around hole that was still occupied by far smaller guest that started to move slower, a bit deeper so that thick one could more easily lick at edges, pressing experimentally until finally it gave way. Clearly excited, it wasted no time trying to push deeper, twisting sloppy and moist around partner that squirmed eagerly inside of him.

          “AhhHHHhnNNN!!” Nicholas immediately became unabashedly loud. It didn’t hurt, not in the slightest, event as fat member stretched him far beyond the limits he thought was capable, both fucked into him with opposite momentums leaving him a mewling wreck, calling for names he’d only heard in dreams. it wasn’t nearly as nice to him this time around, the multitude of tentacles wrapped about his dick squeezing just hard enough that it wouldn’t let him cum as the two continued to move faster. The fullness was tantalizingly thrilling, he’d never felt this way even with what little toys he could get and he’s gotten so noisy with every rushed pant that left his sweat stained against the floor. The closer he gets, the more it tries to restrain him; wrists against the wood by his shoulders, one even found purchase at his neck, pushing chin upward so his unbelievably lewd cries have no where to go but echo off the walls of the room. For a minute, he even catches a glimpse of himself entangled in multicolored arms that all moved with eerie fluidity into him and he knows it’s him because when he opens his mouth, it does too and-- god he looks so obscene-- but so-- good---

          Back arches with ready anticipation of what’s to come, a needy moan as one of the tentacles manages to brush against the spot that made Nicholas want to end it all and the smaller stopping its thrusting in favor of focusing meager attention on sliding against it while larger continued to pump in tandem with his breath. Teeth bite hard into his lip and he almost wished he could dig his nails into a person, but that sentiment is short lived when nipple is pinched and that familiar searing heat started to boil. He can’t hold back, he can’t -- he can’t--! It was too much! This was too much -- He can’t-- “I can’t--!!” Red flushed body burns and he’s slick with his own sweat and cum, tipping over the edge again with violent cry that shakes him to his core. Tentacles thrust hard and deep, the small bulge against his stomach visible if it weren’t for his release that fell hotly across chest and face. 

          Vision falls away and the tension he had held now released, leaves small thing empty and used. The things inside him twist and turn comfortably, lazily easing their way out while his waist is lowered back into the floor with a gentle thump. The others leave just as slow, taking their time over glistening body, licking across his neck and cheek where pearly white globs were smeared towards his mouth as they passed by before disappearing back into the floor, mirrors or... wherever they had come from. 

          So there he was left, breathless and disarray, clothes littered and torn, holy garb staring at him shamefully while he weakly sat himself up to survey the damage done. Covered in marks, ‘hickies’, bruises, sweat, oily substance, and cum, lower back tingling and feeling empty after having his insides just jumbled about; Nicholas quietly shuffled across the floor over mirrored circle to where the spell book lay, symbols and words still vivid across the page and he... tears it out. 

          He was going to keep this one for himself. For later.            For research. 

[cas-backwards-tie]

Nothing But A Monster

Summary: Stranded on the side of the highway in the middle of a thunderstorm with no spare tire, you’re forced to take a ride from a mysterious man and his butler. Little do you know, this man has other plans than simply getting you to your destination.

Warnings: Blood.

Words: 1,869

A/N: So this is the first actual fic I’ve written in like... a year or so. I randomly got inspired from a dream so I hope you guys enjoy this! 

Rain patters against the glass window as he looks out at the lightning streaking across the sky every few seconds or so. His assistant, Bernard, tried eliciting a conversation of small-talk earlier at the airport when he’d picked up his master. However, Kylo Ren’s never been one for small-talk. Watching the raindrops race down the Lincoln’s back window, he admires the way the distant city lights blur with all the water. As the green sign steadily approaches overhead the highway, Bernard takes the scenic route home, a road few people take as the new highway system provides routes with faster ways into and around the city.

“It’s pouring now!” You exclaim, banging your wrench against the hood of your broken-down car in frustration, “great! Just what I need.” A sigh escapes your lips and your hair begins to stick to your face as your clothes start to soak. You eye the tiny dent you’d just made, giving up you walk back to the open trunk of your car and toss the wrench back in. Without a spare tire, it’s useless to try to fix the flat. Out of all the things you could forget, you’d forgotten the most essential thing for this problem: a spare tire. Closing the trunk, you figure you can walk the next few miles up to whatever’s closest and ask to borrow their phone to call for the roadside assistance company. Just as you lock the car and turn to head for the nearest town, bright lights blind you. Raising your arm over your eyes, you can only pray that the car coming off the highway sees and doesn’t hit you.

The slowing of the car causes Kylo’s attention to drift toward the front, eyebrows furrowing a tad. “What’s the holdup?” He asks Bernard, but suddenly sees the issue itself. There’s a woman standing on the side of the road next to a car, her hair sticks to her face along with the white and polka-dot dress she wears. “There’s a young woman in trouble up here,” Bernard responds, the typical old fool’s heart showing a bit too much for Kylo’s liking. Although he’s not one for helping random humans, there’s something about this woman that strikes him in an odd, yet fascinated way. “Stop the car,” he commands Bernard.

Watching the car pass by, you lose a bit of the hope you’d had that maybe, just maybe you’d be able to stop them and ask for help. Your head hangs for a few moments before you spot the red lights of the car up ahead and hear the reversal and sudden approach of the vehicle. Whipping your head up, it’s coming fast. The car’s a few feet away so it doesn’t hit you as it comes to a stop. Right beside you now, the door opens and you stare into the fancy black car at a man dressed in an all black suit. The only real thing you can see in the dim light of the night is that he’s white. When lightning strikes again, you see his eyes are brown, and his hair is dark. The man leans forward, his eyebrows raised in a curious manner. “You know it’s not wise to be out in the middle of nowhere during a thunderstorm?” His eyes roam you up and down, and despite knowing he’s ogling you, you strangely don’t mind.

“Can you please give me a ride to the next stop? A gas station? I just need to call someone.”

The way this woman’s eyes plead, seemingly staring into his soul, is startling. Lightning brightens the sky in a flash before thunder rumbles in the distance, rain beginning to drip and splatter inside the car as he stares out at her. It’s perplexing to him, how one’s face can hold the word ‘kindness’ stricken over it almost as obviously as if it were written across her forehead. “Fine. Get in,” he gestures for her to take the seat next to him. Sliding back to his seat at the window, Kylo watches as fear and worry seem to cross her features. He pokes his head back over and smirks at her. “You’re more likely to get struck by lightning,” he threatens, knowing she must’ve been questioning the innocence of the men in the car. As she gets in, he leans back against the door on his side, his attention returning to the raindrops racing down his window.

Although it’d crossed your mind that this man may have harmful intentions for you, the fact that there’s two men allows for some sort of safeness, you think. Taking your chances; you slide into the seat and close the door. “I’m sorry for troubling you, I just… my tire went flat, and I’d stupidly forgotten the spare. Thank you so much for stopping.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Miss. We’re happy to help. It’s no fun to be standing out in the rain all by your lonesome. I’m Bernard,” the old man behind the driver’s wheel smiles at you in the rearview mirror. The British accent takes you by surprise, though you find it just as adorable as in the movies. A feeling of reassurance washes over you and you smile back at him. Gratefulness fills your chest as you know it’s not everyday someone shows human decency like they’d used to anymore.

Kylo could groan at the conversation between the two of them. ‘Stupidly’. Stupidly is right. Humans are nothing if not stupid, and it’s been proven to him time and time again. Even if something had come over him at the moment, the desire to do a good deed, to help this poor woman, the urge has faded. This is for Bernard’s wellbeing. Lord knows that if they didn’t stop for her that Bernard would chastise him for the rest of the night. As the Lincoln rolls forward and drives toward the nearest stop, Kylo can’t help but glance over at the woman, trying to get a better feel for her, a better look at her. He admires the way her nose sticks out, the round button-like look to it definitely shows personality. Though her hair is wet and stuck to her skin, the baby hairs curl up as they dry, a frizziness held in it. Her eyelashes are long and thin, though beautiful in the way they frame her eyes with a softness to them, a stray eyelash on her cheek. As he notices her about to look at him, he darts his gaze over to the window, returning to the observation of the frenzied storm outside. There’s something about storms he’s always found calming, and why? He’s yet to discover that reason himself.

Greenery passes; trees, bushes, and shrubs line the long straight road, lights from the highway and airport illuminating things in the distance. Within the car, the warm air envelopes you, causing the soaking wet cold of the water to begin seeping into your bones. The mix of warm and cool causes an imbalance in you, one resulting in sleepiness. Your eyes water slightly as you let yourself finally relax, on your way to resolving the issue at hand and heading home for the night. Resting your head against the window, the smooth ride eases your nerves. It feels all too soon that they’ve stopped at the gas-station.

“Miss, I believe this is your stop,” Bernard pipes up, giving her a kind look in the mirror again. “If you should need the information, just tell them your car’s parked off the scenic route of highway forty-five. That should be enough clue for them.” Giving her a nod, he places the car in ‘Park’ as he waits for her to take her leave. “And it was no problem at all, you haven’t given us any trouble. I wish you the best of luck!”

Kylo doesn’t mind the company of the woman beside him, if anything he ignores it almost entirely. The comfortable silence that’d engulfed the ride comes to an abrupt end with Bernard’s voice. His eyes raise to the man in the front seat, an idea coming to him as the woman begins to speak her goodbyes. Licking his lips, he turns to face the woman more head-on. “Wait!” He reaches out for the woman as she reaches for the door. “Bernard, would you mind raising the divider to give us a moment?”

Your eyes go wide as you turn to look back at the man beside you. There’s an eerie air surrounding him and although he’d offered you a ride, there’s still the lingering worries in the back of your mind of dreadful possibilities. “Yes?” Looking him over, he doesn’t seem like he has any ill will. Though as the divider to your presence of comfort raises and cuts him off, you remind yourself that in case of anything untoward, the door is unlocked.

In a moment’s notice, his eyes fade into a deep crimson red. The blood coursing through your veins speeds up a tad as fear runs through you, the temptation to scream dying on your tongue. “You will not scream,” he speaks monotonously, his voice smooth like water, “you will not fight and you will remember nothing of this exchange other than getting the ride you needed.” As her offensive stance relaxes, Kylo brushes back her cool wet hair, his fingers snaking into it as he cradles her head in his hand. Tilting her head to the side, he sinks his fangs in and feasts. A quiet gasp sounds right into his ear as she whimpers. The sweet, thick, luscious feeling of her blood coats his tongue over and over as he drinks from her. A few moments pass before he knows if he doesn’t stop, he’ll have to kill her. Lapping over the wound with his tongue, he pulls his fangs out and retracts them, his eyes returning to their previous honey ladened brown. He leans forward to reach around her, popping the door open. “Goodbye,” he says before shutting the door behind her.

Shaking off the weird feeling you’d just had, you smile to yourself as you walk across the pavement toward the gas-station’s entrance. Relief creates a warm aura around you as the gratefulness for a safe ride and helpful people had come right when you’d needed it. Now all that’s left to do is call the roadside assistance company and wait for them to come help you out.

Kylo rolls his eyes as he notices the glare from Bernard. “You didn’t have to,” he says disappointedly. There’s no guilt inside his chest as he simply shrugs in response to the old man, “I didn’t have to. I wanted to. What can I say? I was hungry.”

[books-and-glitter]

You literally asked for this directly

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

Should be 69 of those 😚

I hate you so much. You monster. I only expressed that I was surprised and you did this to me. I didn't ask for this.

Nonetheless....

🌻 - there is a bug in the kitchen and I am now too scared to go in there.

🌻 - Harper is trying to protect me but she is frankly useless.

🌻 - it's not like a big bug but it is definitely not small.

🌻 - I saw moth put a flower before each of these and thought it was neat. So I am now doing it.

🌻 - the person who sent me this sends a "Daily dose of disappointment" in a group chat we are in. Except it is not daily. It's whenever she has one.

🌻 - Kool Aid originated in Nebraska.

🌻 - The Omaha zoo has both the largest indoor desert as well as the largest indoor rainforest. The rainforest is my favorite.

🌻 - there is a rope bridge in there though that used to scare me a lot.

🌻 - nebraska also apparently originated the reuben sandwich which is gross.

🌻 - the Ogalala aquifer is the largest underground water supply in the US.

🌻 - the 911 system originated in Lincoln so that's kinda cool.

🌻 - the largest Woolly Mammath fossil is from Nebraska. If I remember correctly it's the one in Morrill Hall. His name is Archie and I will die for him.

🌻 - speaking of Archie, he was found on a farm by chickens. The farmer got confused at why the chickens were pecking at something, went to look, found big bones and called an archeologist.

🌻 - okay the bug is still a problem but I now have you to save me when it shows it's little fucking face again.

🌻 - the word Nebraska comes from the Oto word meaning flat water.

🌻 - hell yeah we going back to nebraska facts. Next is that the goldrod is the state flower. Flower is kinda pretty but the paper color by the same name is stupid.

🌻 - blue agate is the state gem and I vibe with that. Agate is cool as fuck.

🌻 - UNL's weight room is supposedly the largest in the country at 3/4ths of an acre (32.6k sqft)

🌻 - the Nebraska capitol had a 9.8 million budget, came in under budget, was paid for by the time it finished construction.

🌻 - I think the capitol looks weird but I am also desensitized to it but objectively it is really cool.

🌻 - cliff notes was founded in Nebraska.

🌻 - unfortunately when the UNL stadium is seated to capacity it technically becomes the 3rd most populated place in the state..... It's also really loud.... And I hate it.

🌻 - Arbor day comes from Nebraska. Which is cool because trees.

🌻 - the Scotts Bluff National Museum has a section of the oregon trail wagon roadbed that you can hike. The museum itself is also kinda cool so I suggest it if you ever are in the area.

🌻 - I wish to kill you, kathryn.

🌻 - more Nebraska facts I hear you cry! No problem! Nebraska has Car Henge! So if you ever want to get the vibe of Stonehenge except stupid and made of antique cars in a field in the middle of fucking nowhere you're in luck.

🌻 - Runzas are the official state food and I hate it. Runza makes decent chicken strips but Runzas are gross. Yes handover that cabbage meat bread 🤢

🌻 - Nebraska has a navy apparently. I know this but I cant tell you what the fuck they do since we are like the most landlocked state in the country.

🌻 - That one president, Gerald Ford, born in Nebraska. That's kinda neat. (I know nothing else about this man or his presidency except he is the only one not nationally elected.)

🌻 - Fred Astaire, Marlon Brando, and Johnny Carson (I think, or he just went to UNL, the media arts building is named after him) are all from Nebraska.

🌻 - getting sick of nebraska facts? Suffer. Nebraska has more miles of river than any other state, which is weird because we were called the great American desert.

🌻 - apparently the Nebraska state insect is the honeybee!!! 🐝

🌻 - the Niobrara river is apparently really good for canoeing and has like 90 waterfalls.

🌻 - I am running low on nebraska facts.

🌻 - there is a park/reserve just outside Lincoln that has some bison in it. Do not fuck with bison. They will wreck your shit.

🌻 - I don't know if he is still alive but there used to be a bald eagle in the same park that only had one wing. (Actually I think he was missing half of one but still)

🌻 - the cottonwood tree is awful and on a bad year can look like a light snow if too many trees are nearby.

🌻 - the ashfall fossil beds are where you can go to see an active archeology site with the fossils of tons of animals killed by a volcano 12 million years ago.

🌻 - Nebraska has a unicameral. Which is basically instead of a state house and state senate we have one legislative body that is elected on a non-partisan ticket.

🌻 - it is illegal to fish whales in Nebraska. Once again we are completely land locked and there are no whales but.. its still illegal.

🌻 - I am dying here. Kathryn I will punch you.

🌻 - Morrill Hall also has elephant hall which is the main hall right when you pass the entry desk. It has like 15 (?) fossils in it and apparently it's the largest collection of elephant fossils on display.

🌻 - speaking of Morrill Hall, it only displays about 1% of it's collection. The rest is stored at Nebraska Hall nearby.

🌻 - I think the cranes in North Platte are lame.

🌻 - nebraska furniture mart in Omaha is apparently the largest in the country. Which I can believe. I went to the discount part and it was a giant warehouse. I don't know what the actual sale floor is like.

🌻 - cherry county is bigger than Connecticut.

🌻 - O street (highway 6) is the longest straight main street

🌻 - Nebraska has a testicle festival. It's probably exactly what you think it is. Too many fried cow balls is what it is.

🌻 - there is a really cool church between Lincoln and omaha called the Holy Family Shrine. Its got massive arches and is mostly glass. Im not catholic so it's not really a religious thing but a bitch can appreciate some cool architecture.

🌻 - the Hall brothers who made Hallmark (card company) are from Nebraska.

🌻 - UNL's Love library has a Shakespeare Folio. Its in the Special Collections and Archives' vault. I want to see it so bad and one of the archivists told me she would show me it next time they opened the vault but then corona... :(

🌻 - UNL's library also has like 5 million+ physical items in it's collections.

🌻 - the serial killer Charles Starkweather is buried in Wyuka in Lincoln.

🌻 - Kearney, NE is dead center geographically between Boston and San Francisco.

🌻 - 92% of the state is farmland/ranches.

🌻 - if you have made it this far I am sorry.

🌻 - Nearly every fun facts about nebraska page has mentioned that the food stuffs Spam is manufactured in Fremont. So I'll mention out of peer pressure.

🌻 - the bug is still in the kitchen. Kathryn has foresaken me. I may perish in the night.

🌻 - 10 more. There is a roller skating museum in Lincoln. It's at 48th and South streets. Has largest collection of historical roller skates.

🌻 - Larry the Cable Guy I'd from Nebraska and he has recorded narrations for some exhibits in the Lincoln children's zoo. Or he used to it's been awhile.

🌻 - going back to UNL stuffs. Morrill Hall is a pretty cool museum and you should definitely go there. If only to say hi to Archie.

🌻 - the bronze Archie that is outside the museum is currently sporting a fashionable face mask set both over his trunk and his actual mouth.

🌻 - there are a couple dino fossils in that museum and if you step over the barrier and onto the decorative rocks an alarm will go off. And staff will be pissed because now they have to tell at you.

🌻 - said museum also has a lot of cool rocks on the third floor.

🌻 - and the bottom floor has like a hall of nebraska animals where you can hit buttons to listen to animal sounds.

🌻 - aaand a room with a plesiosaur embedded in the floor which is really cool.

🌻 - there is also a cool museum in Nebraska called the SAC. Which is the museum for Strategic Air Command. It has a lot of planes and some stuff from moon missions and air force stuff. When I was little some oil from the big plane in the entrance leaked onto a pillow I had when I was sleeping under it on a trip.

🌻 - nebraska is better than iowa but nebraska kinda sucks too so it's not like it matters truthfully.

🌻 - Nebraska has a lot of weather like giant hailstones and tornadoes but Lincoln doesn't get much because it is in a geographic dent so weather tends to weaken over the city. Which is lame. I want lots of snow.

And there we are folks. 69 fucking facts. 58 of which are about Nebraska purely out of spite. I counted.

I am now off to murder my roommate.

(jk but you should expect to be quizzed)

[salthaven]

Stupid and in Love: Origins, Part Three

Chapter Three: Origins, Part Three

   The moment Alya runs out of class, Marinette chases after her. Because Alya, in her crazed rush to go record Stoneheart (again), just had to leave her bag behind! The very bag, of course, that Marinette had put the Ladybug Miraculous in!

   Seriously, Alya wants to be a superhero, then goes off and leaves her chance behind.

   Marinette feels frustration and fear fill her as she darts out of the school. For a moment, she can’t find her new friend, and that scares her. Where did Alya go? Is she okay, did Stoneheart hurt her?

   A flash of ombre hair allows Marinette to breathe, and she sprints after her friend, yelling the reporter’s name.

   She’s so set on reaching Alya, she forgets about the cause of this whole conundrum. That is, until a Stoneheart is grabbing a car and throwing it at Alya, who managed to get his attention.

   Marinette feels her heart stop as she sees the car being thrown. She trips as she hears Alya’s pained groan. She freezes when the Stoneheart spots her next, and moves to grab another car. Marinette can feel her pulse quicken, feels every bone in her body yelling at her to move, to get out of the way, to run far away. But she doesn’t move. She stands still, heart filling with dread.

She’s going to die, she just knows it. She’s going to be trapped and die and there won’t be any Ladybug to save her, there won’t be anyone to save her-

   Stoneheart throws the car. Marinette cowers, pulling her arms up in a futile attempt to protect herself.

   Suddenly, she finds herself being pulled away. Eyes opening in shock, she looks into brown eyes that search the city’s skyline as he hops from building to building. The mysterious hero holds her close to his chest as he leaps, and Marinette wraps her arms around his neck after realizing how high up they are.

   Just because she was Ladybug for one day doesn’t mean she can survive falling now.

   A few minutes later, her hero sets her down. Marinette stumbles, shaky from the sudden trip. Her hero is there immediately, catching her and holding her steady.

   “Are you alright, br- beautiful?” He asks, and Marinette blushes.

   “I am, thanks to you…” She trails off, unsure of what to call him.

   He pauses, too, then grins. “Carapace. Call me Carapace.”

   The name fits. Her hero wears a green and black bodysuit that reminds her of Chat Noir’s, but more...reptilian. He wears a hood to hide more of his face, and his eyes are covered by goggles that hide half of his face. A hexagonal pattern covers his suit, reminding Marinette of a turtle’s shell, and dark green boots hide his feet. On his back, he wears a shield that matches his overall ensemble, and a bracelet with a turtle charm hangs on his wrist. Clearly, he’s been given a Turtle Miraculous. Yes, Carapace...suits him.

   Marinette feels her blush darken, realizing that she’s been checking out Carapace for way too long to go unnoticed. “I, uh, thank you! My name is Marinette! Thank you, again.” She winces. “I already said that, didn’t I?”

   Carapace laughs, beaming at her. “You did, but that’s alright, Marinette.” He seems like he wants to say more, but then there’s a crash and a scream. Right, Stoneheart. Akumas. Carapace looks away, eyes widening, and then he glares at the source.

   “Listen, Marinette,” he says, turning his gaze back to her. “You need to stay here. Don’t go near Stoneheart again, okay? Ladybug, Chat Noir, and I will fix this, just stay out of danger.” He frowns. “I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

   The words are touching, and Marinette nods. “Of course! I’ll wait here right- right here. You, um, good luck? Defeating Stoneheart?”

   Carapace smiles softly. “Thank you.” And then he’s gone, leaping into action.

   Marinette watches him go, eyes trailing after him.

   ‘He saved me,’ Marinette thinks. ‘He didn’t even hesitate.’

   He’s like Chat Noir, she realizes. He’s brave and courageous in the face of danger. He’s strong and protective, and willing to risk himself in order to save someone as clumsy and accident prone as her. He’s a real hero.

   And he needs Ladybug’s help. They all do. And what did Marinette do? She tried to hide. She tried to shove her responsibility onto Alya, tried to force her friend into the danger instead, tried to be a coward even if it hurt someone else.

   Something sparks in Marinette’s soul. She rips open Alya’s bag and opens the mysterious box.

   Tikki flies out and smiles at Marinette. “I knew you’d stay!” She cheers.

   “All I have to do to fix everything is catch the butterfly and use my Miraculous Cure, right, Tikki?” Marinette asks, already fastening the earrings back into her ears.

   “Yep! You and Chat Noir just have to break the object again, catch it, purify it, and everything will be fixed!” Tikki hovers in front of Marinette, ready. “Just say the words, Marinette!”

   “Carapace, too,” Marinette says with a grin, then shouts, “Tikki, spots on!”

   This time, the flow of magic feels exhilarating. It feels right. It feels like destiny intertwining with her very core.

   It feels miraculous.

   Ladybug bounds away, rejuvenated and ready for action. She’s got an Akuma to beat, but first, she has a friend to save.

~~~~~

   Stoneheart is at the Eiffel Tower, because of course he is. Why wouldn’t the giant monster guy go to the most famous attraction of Paris to reenact some weird Godzilla scene, holding up his crush for all of Paris to see (and the blonde bully of their class, too)?

   Ladybug wants to appreciate the sight of Chloé being scared, because how often does she get to see that, but no, she has to focus. She’s a hero, god damnit, and it’s time she acts like one.

   Carapace and Chat Noir are besides one another, trying to reason with Officer Roger.

   “We can’t attack him!” Chat says, eyes narrowed. “There’s a person under all that rock! You can’t shoot him!”

   “He’s terrorizing Paris!” Roger responds angrily. “And besides, it’s not like you’ve been any help! In fact, it’s even worse now.”

   Ladybug scowls at Roger. Perhaps, in another world, she would have backed down when hearing these words. But she sees the fire in her partners’ eyes, and it fuels her own spark further.

   “Don’t you dare blame Chat Noir for this!” Ladybug hisses out, stalking forwards. “This isn’t your everyday problem right here, this is magic! You can’t even stall Stoneheart, how would you expect us to know how to beat him right away?”

   Roger snorts. “We don’t expect you to know. So step aside, kids, and let us show you how it’s done.”

   Carapace scowls. “Dude, shooting him is only going to make him grow stronger. Didn’t you see yesterday, when Chat Noir and Ladybug fought him?”

   But Roger is getting ready to command his squad.

   Mayor Bourgeois stops him. “Roger, you cannot fire! My poor Chloé is up there, held by that, that monster!”

   Roger huffs, then pulls out a megaphone. “Stoneheart, we demand that you return Chloé Bourgeois, or we will use brute force.”

   Stoneheart growls. “You want her?” He booms, raising Chloé above his head. “Then you can have her!” To everyone’s horror, he proceeds to throw Chloé, who begins to scream as she falls.

   Ladybug acts on instinct. Bully or not, she’s not letting anyone be hurt. So she moves.

   A hop, skip, and a swing back to safety, Chloé is safe. The blonde clings to Ladybug, crying dramatically and praising the bluenette.

   As soon as Chloé is safe, Roger turns to his men. “Draw your weapons!” He screams. Ladybug feels her heart drop, and Chat quickly distracts the men, yelling at them to stop.

   A scream of agony gets everyone’s attention. On top of the Tower, Stoneheart falls to the ground, purple butterflies flying up above his head.

   As Stoneheart roars, the butterflies turn into the face of a masked man. The man smiles demeaningly, then speaks. “People of Paris, listen carefully. I am Hawkmoth, and I come to tell you that you have been wronged. Ladybug and Chat Noir cause you to suffer. If they grant me their Miraculous, I will fix all of their mistakes, and Paris will be safe.”

   Ladybug growls. How dare he try to flip the narrative, to hide the truth! If there’s one thing Ladybug hates, it’s liars, and a false truth is just as bad.

   Smirking, Ladybug steps forwards, clapping. “Good job, Hawkmoth, but we all know who the villain is here. You see, Chat Noir and I are only here because you started terrorizing the citizens of Paris. Let me make one thing clear: we will not be giving you our Miraculous, you will be giving yours to us.” She leaps up to the tower, slashing her yoyo through the cloud of Akumas. Swipe by swipe, she catches them all, then turns to face the crowd. Staring straight at the horde of reporters, she states, “People of Paris, no matter how long it takes, we will find Hawkmoth and bring him down! You can always count on Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Carapace to help you!” She releases the swarm of butterflies, which have turned white.

   She hears a groan behind her, and watches as Stoneheart gets back up. A purple outline covers his face, and then he swipes at Ladybug. She jumps back, and the Akuma starts scaling the Eiffel Tower, going higher and higher. Behind her, the other Stonehearts begin to climb the Tower as well.

   “Help!” Mylène screams. “I’m scared of heights!”

   The trio of heroes leap into action. Ladybug searches for a plan, searches for a clue to help her-

   “What do we do, my lady?” Chat asks, knocking back one of the copies. “We can’t hit him, that only makes him stronger!”

   “Well, we already know where the Akuma is!” Carapace responds. “Why can’t we just get that out of his hand again.”

   “That’s in the hand where Mylène is,” Ladybug says. Then she gasps. “I got it! We don’t separate them, we bring them closer together! Boys, follow me.”

   “Why do I feel like this is how things will usually go?” Chat asks, but he follows nonetheless.

   Reaching the top of the Eiffel Tower, Ladybug stares at Stoneheart. If she can get the right angle with her yoyo, she should be able to make them kiss. But once the Akuma is purified...how will she save Ivan and Mylène in time?

   “Ladybug!” Chat calls out. “Do you have a plan? Because we have lots of company.”

   “We need to use our powers! Carapace, what does yours do?”

   “I can create a protective dome, but it’ll only last for five minutes before I detransform!” Carapace climbs up behind her, trying to stay out of reach.

   Perfect.

   “Alright, let’s do this! Lucky Charm!” A flash of pink fills her hands, and Ladybug is left with, “a parachute?”

   This’ll do.

   Without wasting a second, Ladybug swings her yoyo at Stoneheart, wrapping up his closed wrist, then tugs. The force causes Mylène and Stoneheart to kiss. In shock, Stoneheart opens his hand, dropping Mylène and the paper. Mylène catches one of his fingers, a yelp of fear escaping her.

   “Chat! The paper!” Ladybug yells, and Chat Noir dives through the air, falling until he can bat the paper up to Ladybug with his baton. Ladybug snags it with her yoyo and rips it, freeing the Akuma.

   “No more evil doing for you, little Akuma!” She catches it, and Stoneheart’s transformation falls. With it, so do Ivan and Mylène.

   “Chat! Use Cataclysm to make a landing! Carapace, use your dome on the citizens to make sure they don’t get hit!” Ladybug leaps off the Tower, parachute on her back, and grabs Mylène. As soon as she has the smaller girl in her grasp, she pulls the cord on her Lucky Charm, opening the parachute. The two drift safely to the ground as Chat catches Ivan, and Carapace protects the citizens from harm.

   When they reach the ground, Ladybug releases Mylène, who heads over to Ivan. Smiling at her partners, Ladybug says, “Only one thing left to do!”

   Sighing, she releases the purified Akuma. “Bye bye, little butterfly.” Then she chucks the parachute into the air and yells, “Miraculous Ladybug!”

   She doesn’t expect the swarm of ladybugs to fill the air, and watches in awe as the Eiffel Tower is fixed.

   As reporters rush up to the trio, Ladybug feels...ready. She feels confident, with the two boys beside her, and knows that she can do this. She’s Ladybug, and she’ll save the day. She is a hero.

~~~~~

   The next day, Ladybug’s courage runs through Marinette. It’s this courage that leads her actions, and causes her to pull Alya to her original spot.

   Chloé scoffs when she sees Marinette. “Excuse you, Dupain-Cheng. What do you think you’re doing in my seat?”

   Marinette smiles sweetly. “It’s my seat, thank you very much.”

   “Yeah, right. Move it, baker girl.”

   The bell rings, and Marinette doesn’t move. She just smiles sweetly. When Miss Bustier arrives and Marinette still hasn’t moved, Chloé scoffs again and stomps over to the spare seats up front, Sabrina trailing her.

   Alya snickers. “Good job, girl! I didn’t know you had it in you!”

   Marinette leans her head against her hand, letting one finger brush her earring. “It’s like you said, all that is needed for bad to prevail is that good people do nothing.”

   Alya beams. “I’m glad you took my advice. Confidence looks good on you.”

   Marinette smiles, then changes the topic. “So, did you end up making your Ladyblog?”

   Alya shakes her head. “No. I think, if I make one, it’ll be more of a hobby. You were right, Chat Noir does deserve more focus, too. And then there’s that new guy, Carapace! Maybe I should do a bit on all of them!”

   “Just a hobby? So does that mean you won’t be running into danger just to get recordings of them?” The idea is relieving, to be honest.

   Alya smirks. “No, I don’t think I will. It’s not that smart to run in when you’re not a magical supergirl, you know?” She toys with a necklace that hangs around her throat, playing with the fox tail charm. “But it would be nice to write a few articles here and there.”

   Marinette nods. “That sounds amazing! What will you call it?”

   Alya hums. “I’m not quite sure about that, actually.”

   “What about the Miracleblog? Or, hmm, the Miracublog?”

   Alya grins. “Miracublog, I like it! Marinette, you’re a genius.”

   No, she’s not. She’s just incredibly lucky.

   Class starts, and Marinette knows that, in the end, everything will be fine.

-----

And just like that, Origins is completed! 

Tags: @northernbluetongue @indecisive-mess-named-me @magnitude101999

[popatochisssp]

Obviously no pressure, but if you wanted to share your ideas on house pets, there would be great interest from at least one person. But headcanons are closed and I totally respect that (this very ask aside sorry). No pressure to do anything!!! just wanted to let you know that it seems like fun info.

Sans (Undertale): Strongly inspired by a fantastic fanfiction I can’t recommend enough, he has a cat affectionately named Catsup (Norwegian Forest Cat). Of course he does. Pretty typical story here, he more or less went to a shelter, locked onto the biggest, fattest cat there, and filled out the paperwork to damn her to a life of having a pun for a name. He...may have only gone to the shelter because he was hardcore struggling with depression and his brother read somewhere that pets can help a little, but that's...that’s neither here nor there. Catsup turned out to be a perfect fit for Sans in spite of his initial attitude of, 'I'm only doing this to make Papyrus happy'-- she's probably just about as chill and lazy as the skeleton himself, content to flop over just about anywhere, anytime and hang out. Her laidback nature was a blessing for Sans, a first-time cat-owner who didn't really know what he was doing or what she needed right away. A more high-maintenance cat probably wouldn't have been as forgiving and there'd have been a lot more stress on everybody before he got it figured out. Now, he considers Catsup his best little pal and doesn't even need to be reminded to change out her bowls and her litter. He's surprisingly responsible, when he actually really cares about something.

Catsup’s Quirks: Likes it when you gently slap her belly, always gravitates towards the room with the most people in it, often appears in unusual places that it seems like she shouldn't have been able to get to

Papyrus (Undertale): He...begrudgingly missed working with the Canine Unit once the Royal Guard was officially disbanded... It took him awhile to be able to openly admit he was interested in getting a dog, and when he did, he had standards-- it had to be a smart dog, one that could learn tricks and follow rules, unlike a certain annoying creature that’s plagued his life and home and special attacks in the past!!! So he did a lot of breed research, found a local, ethical breeder for the kind he was looking for, and went to pick out a pup. Spike (Border Collie), so named for his incredible coolness, is a perfect fit for his energetic skeleton friend and loves to run, exercise, and learn new tricks all the time!

Spike’s Quirks: Learned to wipe his feet before coming inside just by watching Papyrus do it, hams up his tricks and sometimes does them without prompting, never leaves the park without an impractically large stick to bring home

Sky (Underswap Sans): You will literally never get him to admit the real reason he got a dog companion because he knows in his heart of hearts that it’s such a silly reason... He saw a video online of a dog delicately eating a watermelon and while most people would’ve had a kneejerk reaction of, “I NEED TEN,” but not gotten any, he had the same reaction and just...talked himself down to one. And so came Poff (Samoyed), a big ol’ floofer who’s a lot like her master when it comes to levels of energy and affection. She’s happy to follow him around on patrols, training sessions, and even through obstacle course...so of course, she tends to get very dirty very quickly. Luckily, Sky’s diligence in grooming her keeps her coat as white and fluffy as her namesake!

Poff’s Quirks:  Loves baths, tap dances at the mention of treats, doesn't chew her toys and just hoards them instead

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): He wasn’t really in the market for a dog, himself. He was just along for the ride when his bro was picking up Poff, when he happened to hear the most hilarious sing-screaming sound he’d ever heard in his life. He followed it all the way to the little fellow who would soon be known as Smoochie (French Bulldog), and he sure seemed upset about...something? He never really figured out why, he was laughing too hard from hearing a sound like that come out of something so small and weird-looking. He didn't try to adopt Smoochie that day, much as he loved his sound, but he found himself going back to the shelter a couple times just to check on and play with him. After two or three months with no one else adopting the little prima-donna, he figured he might as well commit and take him home. He's a fun little dude and Paps hasn't regretted it for a second, but he's forever in denial about just how much of a Dog Dad he's become since. It's totally normal to carry your dog around in the hood of your sweatshirt, isn't it???

Smoochie’s Quirks: Screams a lot, will eat food out of peoples’ hands if they’re not paying attention, jumps higher than it seems like he should be able to

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Like most things in his life, he didn’t put a whole lot of planning or forethought into getting a dog. He was out one night, decently drunk, and a friend of a friend of a friend of a coworker was talking about this dumb dog he had that was supposed to be a guard dog but couldn't do it worth a damn because he was too friendly. The guy was yammering about how to get rid of it and something about that struck a chord with Jasper. It was pretty soon after monsters surfaced and maybe that's why it felt...important to him? He was probably just drunk and emotional and soft that he even stepped in or said anything, but it is what it is. He’s a skilled enough conman that it didn't take him long to talk the guy around in circles until he was willing to pay Jasper for the privilege of taking this animal off his hands and in short order, he was almost bowled over by the big dog that planted its paws on his shoulders at their first meeting. Jasper immediately renamed him from something cliché and 'intimidating' to Tubbs (Rottweiler) for how heavy the goofy bastard was and then brought him right home. His brother wasn't particularly pleased and swore he would not be caring for this beast, but he never had to; Jasper kinda missed having something trusting and affectionate to take care of, and Tubbs has been daddy's little fatty ever since.

Tubbs’ Quirks: Shreds even the heaviest duty toys, lays on people as if he were a lap dog, drools rivers if somebody's eating food around him

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Who am I to defy literal years of fanon...? His first meeting with Doomfanger (Persian) was about as clichéd as it gets-- a scrawny, dingy, scraggly and matted cat scurrying out of an alley in the rain. She went right up to him and, well... it was love at first mew. He scooped her right up, bestowed a fittingly intimidating name upon her, and took her home with him, in spite of the fact that she looked more like a mutant rat than a cat at the time. After shaving the mats off, bathing the dirt away, and getting her some regular food, though, Doomy actually ends up being an exceedingly beautiful feline! He credits his attentive care and grooming for her pristine, silvery fluff and will brag about it at a moment's notice, but he's just ever so slightly in denial about her sweet and gentle nature. Doomfanger is a vicious killing machine, a true apex predator that nothing stands a chance against! That's...that’s obviously why he carries her around so much... And why he plucks her away from any other animal that comes near her like some sort of mother hen-- he's minimizing the bloodshed! If he let her loose, there would be no survivors!

Doomfanger’s Quirks: Meows in peeps, avid shadow-chaser, extremely receptive to handling

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Hey, anyone remember FGTC? This one cameo’d in that fic, she may seem familiar~ So...he wanted a pet. At first, he thought a cat would be good, fierce independent hunters that they’re reputed to be...but after spending time with a lot of cats and not really clicking with any, he was forced to concede that he was just more of a dog person. In hindsight, of course that’s what he was looking for: a loyal companion to (literally, ha!) dog his steps and follow his orders. Before he can actually, intentionally start looking for one, though, the universe works its magic and he finds one digging around in the garbage out behind the house. The emergency vet he brings the scarred and skeletal stray to tells him that, judging by her injuries, she was probably bait in some dog-fighting ring somewhere and got thrown away when she wasn’t useful anymore. Well. Fuck that, Princess (Pitbull) deserves better than that, and she’ll have it! He takes on the duty of nursing her back to health and earning her trust and it isn’t long before she shows her true colors as the loviest sweetheart of a dog that ever was. She’s utterly useless as an attack/guard dog, but her barks are loud and intimidating, and she obeys commands at the drop of a hat, so Mal doesn’t hold that against her. She goes with him just about anywhere she’s allowed and he shows her off with the same enthusiasm you’d expect for a pedigreed Best in Show dog.

Princess’ Quirks: Wags with her entire butt, will kiss the moment someone’s face is in range, barks at doorbells both real and on TV

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): He didn’t mean to get a cat, not really... He was just following along with his brother when Mal was kicking around the idea of getting one, and Mal may not have clicked with anybody there, but he sure did. Actually... Kitkat (Manx) may have picked him and he’s just along for the ride. Kitkat was kinda young at the time, a little smaller than all the rest and also...no tail??? But what a personality, loud and playful and super sweet and...when it was time to leave the shelter, he just...he couldn’t bring himself to do it without her, he was in love! It’s mutual, at least-- she latched right onto him pretty much instantly and is pretty much never not with him whenever he’s at home, following him around from room-to-room.

Kitkat’s Quirks: Bone-rattlingly loud purrs, loves to play fetch, prone to 3AM zest for life and zooming all around the house accordingly

Slate (Horrortale Sans): I actually wrote about this one! But the gist of it is...he likes cats. Eventually got confident enough to go get one and zeroed right in on the weirdest-looking, least adoptable cat in the shelter he volunteers at. Slinky (Cornish Rex) was deaf, kinda ugly, and a whole lotta weird, but hell, she’ll fit right in at home, yeah? And so she does! She wrecks a lotta shit and is loud as hell, but stuff is only stuff and Slate’s never had an issue with noise. Actually...she really helps him out with his sleep and focus issues, it’s hard to drop off or dissociate when you have a cat in your lap, yelling at you at batting your face because it’s Play Time or Dinner Time, wake the fuck up!!! She’s a bastardous gremlin, but he loves her to bits.

Slinky’s Quirks: Clumsy and bad at judging distances, loves ankle-looping, insists on sniffing all people-food but never actually tries to eat it

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): Following the trauma of the underground and the ensuing massive outpouring of empathy from humanity at large, monsters were made aware of many therapeutic resources that they could take advantage of, one of which was therapy animals. Papy naturally thought this was a wonderful idea...for other monsters, who were of course far more psychologically-damaged and not quite so good at enduring as himself. But...his brother does volunteer at an animal shelter, and he goes to visit him on occasion so he's made friends with a lot of animal people. This is how he hears about a therapy dog in need of a new forever-home due to complicated circumstances with her former owner, and well... it would be rude not to offer the Lady (Borzoi) a place to stay! He’s surprised by her appearance at first, having expected something more like a golden retriever or some kind of shepherd??? But he's very quickly charmed by her and actually feels more than a little bit of kinship with her no stranger to being long and oddly proportioned, himself-- and they're both doing their best to make it look graceful instead of weird. Since Lady proves to be a sweet and gentle-mannered dog, Papy just sort of...never bothers trying to find other accommodations for her. She’s welcomed wholeheartedly into their home, which she repays with plenty of unconditional love and effortless emotional support!

Lady’s Quirks: Spins in circles when excited, very polite when begging for table scraps, never barks but howls often

[sorio99]

Deltarune Chapter 1: The Official Undertale AU

At 6:00 AM PST, on Halloween 2018, the official Undertale twitter account released what is essentially a demo for the next game by Toby Fox, deltarune. Between the baffling intro, the odd relationship with the original Undertale, and the implied involvement of a certain missing doctor, everything about this game was shrouded in mystery.

And I loved it.

(Spoilers and Review below the cut)

Part 1: The Story

At first glance, most people assumed this mysterious new game would be a sequel (or possibly prequel) to Undertale. After all, it involves a number of shared characters, the titular rune was prominently featured in Undertale, and even the name “Delta rune” is an anagram for “Undertale”.

However, the relationship between the two is much stranger, and the plots are largely unconnected.

After creating an avatar and having the game unceremoniously throw it in the garbage, you play as Kris (that lovely person up there), the human child of Asgore and Toriel, and younger sibling to Asriel Dreemurr. Right off the bat, about a million questions are raised, especially since later conversations indicate Kris has at least been living with the Dreemurrs’ since they were too young to know their species, but we’ll come back to that.

Toriel drives you to school, though still get there late, and Alphys (who is your teacher here) puts you in a group with Susie, the only student to show up after you, to work together on a group project. However, when she realizes she doesn’t have any chalk, she sends the two of you to go get some from the school’s broom closet. You catch Susie eating chalk, she threatens to eat your face but doesn’t, and you head off to the broom closet.

Then things get weird.

After that, it sort of follows a plot line similar to the original: you fall into another world, there’s a bunch of monsters you can either fight or spare, and you just have to keep going up and to the left to fulfill a prophecy & get to the exit, all while dealing with ambiguously evil characters who are more silly than dangerous. It is, however, a bit shorter, with only about ten unique enemies and only three areas in the whole game. But hey, it is technically just the first chapter, so what do you expect.

Of course, what really makes an Undertale is the characters. Since you’re in a different world for most of the game, the returning characters from Undertale don’t have much of a presence outside the very beginning and very end. Instead, we focus on a handful of new characters, all of whom are pretty well-rounded and developed, with the exception of Kris, our silent, somewhat-ambiguously-gendered protagonist. Susie, in particular, goes through a pretty nice character arc, going from someone who’d casually threaten to rip your face off and eat it, to an actual antagonist at one point, before eventually working her way back to being a good guy and someone you can actually be friends with! It’s definitely the strongest arc in the game so far.

There’s also Lancer!

He’s a villain.

And not a skeleton.

Just trust me on this.

Part 2: Presentation

Just to get it out of the way, the music is fantastic. Of course it is. It’s an Undertale spinoff and, more importantly, it’s made by Toby “Radiation” “I could shit out a better soundtrack than most of you will ever even imagine” Fox.

I will however say that I prefer Deltarune’s sound design in general to Undertale, though. Don’t get me wrong, Undertale still has the better OST (for now at least), but Deltarune’s sound effects JUST beat it out in my books. In particular, I felt like the text sounds for most of the characters was, on average, less annoying than in Undertale. Again, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate Undertale’s voices, but some of them could get a little ear-grating, especially for characters who talked a LOT throughout the game. Here, with the exception of one returning character (where the irritation was kind of the joke anyways), all of them work really well. There’s even a tiny bit of voice acting from a couple of the more important characters! So, big thumbs up there.

More pressingly, however, are the visuals. In case it wasn’t obvious from the above screenshots (aside from that second one of Lancer, maybe), the graphics have gotten a MAJOR glow up since the last game. Temmie Chang, aka “Most Precious Meme”, is still the main Artist for the game, and Undertale is by no means a bad looking game. However, in general, the games’ art went from “Beautiful and sometimes even breathtaking” to consistently “HOLY SHIT MY EYES ARE NOT EQUIPPED TO COPE WITH SUCH SHEER BRILLIANCE!!!”

You think I’m exaggerating, but I legit dropped my jaw at a lot of this game’s visuals. I mean, just look at this one End-game animation!

I think this one short scene has more detail and frame than Asgore’s overworld sprite got in the entirety of Undertale.

On the slight downside, however, we no longer get the full-body monochromatic battle sprites from Undertale, as enemies appear in battle almost identically to how they appear in the world. Still, with this much more detail in overworld sprites, it’s not even a slight loss.

Speaking of battle...

Part 3: Gameplay

Yep, the gameplay has gotten a major overhaul over the past three years. First, as the screenshot should make obvious, you have a team now! Yep, in addition to Kris, you can get up to three additional party members over the course of your adventure, including Susie! 

In general, what you can do in battles with Kris is mostly the same; you can Fight by hitting the button at the right time, Act in certain ways to make the enemies not want to fight you, use an Item really quick, or Spare an enemy who you don’t want to kill. You also have the option to defend, which will lessen the damage you take if you get hit during the obligatory bullet-hell attacks your enemies dish out.

Where things get really interesting, though, is the team mechanics. You see, every character is different, and everyone but Kris can use magic (although some of Kris’s ACT commands kinda seem like magic?). However, only Kris can directly ACT, with other party members only being able to preform certain set spells. So, instead, Kris can command the other party members to perform actions, or Kris can ACT while the others defend, use items, or attack. If you use a Team ACT, the other party member(s) involved won’t be able to do anything else that turn, but said Team ACTs are usually more powerful or potent as a result. The whole thing can set up for actually strategic choices in battle: In Undertale, since most enemies only had one or two ways to spare them, the most strategy you could use on a Pacifist play through was “Which enemy should I deal with first?” Here, you have to figure how you’re going to handle each encounter. Do you have Kris ACT first, then have another party member spare that monster in the same turn? Or do you act WITH that party member, and next turn be able to spare at least two monsters?

In addition to the battle system being reworked, there were a number of smaller, quality of life changes:

You now have three item categories: Items (your standard consumables), Gear (your armor and weapons), and Key Items (your cellphone and a couple other important things).

You can sell at pretty much every shop in the “Dark” world, which makes sense, since you’re mostly selling food, armor, and weapons-things people in this world would need to survive.

Each character in your party uses a different kind of weapon, but all of them use the same armor, and you can give them all two pieces of armor each, so you can stack defense and get extra boosts!

Choices are mostly presented in a cross pattern, so you just have to pick a direction and confirm to choose that option.

THERE IS NOW A RUN BUTTON AND IN THE OPTIONS YOU CAN CHANGE SO YOU AUTO-RUN AND THE RUN BUTTON IS JUST A WALK BUTTON!

And speaking of which, YOU CAN ACCESS THE MENU FROM WITHIN THE MAIN GAME! THANK YOU!

You can also have up to three save files at once, although I’ve heard each file has some minor differences in flavor-text across the game, so be on the look-out for that.

Overall, I feel like I honestly prefer the game play to Undertale. In fact, with the exception of the story (which is mostly underdeveloped because, again, this is basically just a very long demo), I honestly prefer most of Deltarune to Undertale. While it isn’t technically a sequel, per se, it does do what any good sequel should do: use the original as a starting point and just improve almost everything. It’s almost like the Bioshock Infinite to Undertale’s Bioshock, if that makes sense.

(Would that make System Shock 2 Homestuck? Am I over thinking this?)

Now, with the actual review out of the way, we can get to the main event.

Part 4: Co̞͞n̤̠͎̙̥̗n̸̰̜̳͚͓͇͍e̸͈͉̳̺c̭̮̬̖̭̗̳͠t͍͓͘i̖̺͙͇̟̫o̢̰̜̦n͈̮̼͈͎͖̦s͈͝ ̹̙̦͈̯̜A̡̟̥ņ̥͙̗d̛͙̤̦͈̹̪͚ ̺T͍̞h̡̜̝̟̬e͏̱̹̲ͅ ͕̯̰͍̜͇͍D͝oc̜t̸̺̱̯͙̠o̷̱r͈̟̣̤̯

As I mentioned before, this game isn’t technically a sequel to Undertale. None of the events of Undertale seem to have occurred in this universe, including (seemingly) things from before the game even began. This becomes especially apparent after you leave the “Dark” world and can explore town, talking to various people. Character relationships are almost universally reset, there is no mention of the “Underground”, and considering Asriel is still alive and in college, it’s safe to say there is no Flowey in this world. It could almost be passed off as a complete alternate continuity, or even a reboot, if it weren’t for a few...

oddities.

Yep, among the returning characters, Sans makes an appearance, having apparently just moved into town and never having met you before. Despite having apparently met Toriel the night before in the grocery store, and having a business relationship with your teacher, Alphys. Plus, there's the fact that what used to be Grillby’s and the Bone Brother’s house both look WAY too close to there original versions (no other building looks that similar), the fact that of ALL the returning characters, only Sans looks the exact same (no redesign, visible aging, or even new clothing), and the fact that some of Kris’s dialogue choices seem to reference things that haven’t happened in this universe, and other characters notice them acting...different.

Plus, you know, there’s Chapter 1′s ending.

Yeah.

(Plus, as you might have noticed at the top of this part, there’s a monster who is the only one in either game who looks similar to this Gaster Follower)

All of this seems to point to something much more sinister going on. And, for those who haven’t seen it, the tweets leading up to the demo’s release might just explain why.

Now, we aren’t quite sure who this is supposed to be, but judging by their vocabulary and how they type, it’s a pretty safe assumption we’re being chatted to by our favorite former royal scientist. And, sure enough, most people are assuming that this entity is at least some version of Dr. W. D. Gaster. Why is he doing this? What does it all mean? Why was the Delta Rune even slightly relevant to the plot of this chapter aside from there being three prophesied heroes?

Well, I suppose only time will tell.

Until then...

L̴͙̖̠̕è̘̝͚̯̩̘ͅt͔͎͖̝͎̼͘͢ ̷͎̮͘ù̴̹̘̮̰̙̮̮̘͝s̵̷̫̠͎̯͙̥͟ͅ ͍͍̤̟͇͕̺ͅh̨̼̼͕̠ą̶̛̦̫̼v̺͞e̸͎̭̱͍̭͞͠ ͖̩̳͕͔͚͚̝̱s̘̭̩͜͟ơ҉̥͖̯͟m̞̠͈e̷͔͖̭ͅ ́҉̤͔͎̫̣̥̱͚̲ḿ̶̩̼̙̪̻̝̥͟o̗͇̩͇̠͍͟r̡͖͇̤̗͔͈̕͠e̶̝̠͔͈̭̟ ̷̫̬̺̮͔̣F̢̗̘̟̯͈̜͖͕͈͞Ų̴͍̜͚̘̠̞͈͇̀N҉̡̣̺̝̩̘͓ͅ.̷̩̹͓̯͝

S̛̪̦͉͎̙̀h̴͇͈͡á̤̣̫̬l̷̬̤͓͈͟ͅl͚͚̙̦̙̣̱̺ ̳̗̩͍̱̤̦͈̣w̡͔é͔̝̹̻̜͎̞͝?͜҉̣̣̥̫͎͎ͅ

[hrryotter]

‘Sweetheart’ Review: ‘Cast Away’ Meets ‘Alien’ in J.D. Dillard’s Lean and Satisfying Creature Feature

There are two great images in J.D. Dillard’s “Sweetheart,” a lean creature feature that could have used just a little extra meat on its bones. The first — a moment widely hailed since the film’s Sundance debut this past January — hinges on the initial reveal of the monster, a humanoid fishman who spends most of its time lurking in the darkness, and looks like one of Guillermo del Toro’s roughest drafts whenever it swims into the light. The second has to do with a deliciously unnatural black hole that’s carved into the bottom of the ocean; a sunken portal that drills straight into your deepest fears.

Sweetheart

Beyond that, “Sweetheart” boasts precious little in the way of visual imagination. But what this potent micro-dose of a movie lacks in showmanship, it makes up for in purity and resourcefulness and a rugged performance from Kiersey Clemons that might feel revelatory if the “Hearts Beat Loud” actress weren’t always this commanding. Dillard trusts in his star to hold our attention, and his terse script — co-written with Alexs’ Hyner and Theurer — seldom does anything to dilute the elemental primacy of its premise.

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Equal parts “Cast Away” and “Alien,” “Sweetheart” is a horror fable about a girl who washes up on a deserted Fijian island, only to discover that a carnivorous amphibian creature of some kind comes up to the surface whenever the sun goes down. It doesn’t really get any more complicated than that, as even the eventual morsels of backstory only reinforce the irrelevance of additional information. When someone is stranded in the middle of nowhere and locked in a nightly battle for survival against a bipedal leviathan, it doesn’t really matter who they were yesterday.

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Her name is Jenn — that much we can glean from the stuff in her backpack — and she was on a boat of some kind with a few white boys who didn’t survive whatever cruel fate befell them. A guy named Brad is washed up on the sand, a killer hunk of coral sticking out of his chest; he lives just long enough to ask Jenn “Did you see it?” She’s too shocked to process what “it” there possibly could have been to see. Jenn finds another person she recognizes a bit further along the sand, and his head has been peeled off like the shell of a coconut. There will be other, even more ominous indications of trouble (e.g. a dead shark that’s streaked with giant claw marks), but Jenn is too busy thinking about food, shelter, and rescue to worry about that; there are plenty of things for her to fear without adding a hungry demon to the mix.

We don’t know where Jenn is from, or what she was like before she got here, but it’s clear that she isn’t especially well-prepared to live in the wild. She’s not an idiot by any stretch of the imagination, but she’s also not MacGyver; Jenn finds a waterlogged bag containing a Game Boy and a bottle of prescription meds — proof that she’s not the first person to wind up in this weird tropical hell — but this isn’t the kind of movie that ends with her rewiring a “Tetris” cartridge into a transistor radio, or poisoning the monster with a bottle of expired Xanax.

On the contrary, “Sweetheart” makes a point of stressing Jenn’s need for self-sufficiency. She isn’t going to get out of this by waiting for some kind of deus ex machina, and the film is principally concerned with the character’s inward focus. Eschewing dopey scenes of Jenn narrating her thought process for our benefit, Dillard relies instead on long stretches without a word being spoken, as his semi-panicked heroine tries to stave off feelings of helplessness. Jenn’s instincts aren’t always brilliant — at one point, she tries to sail away from the island inside an empty suitcase — but Clemons grounds every moment in such genuine desperation that you never feel compelled to judge her character the way you might the victims of a slasher movie. She’s doing her best, and that’s good enough. Judging by the film’s vaguely condescending title and the context that “Sweetheart” later provides for it, Jenn’s best might be even better than anyone thought, or than she was conditioned to expect from herself.

Dillard, whose “Sleight” wasn’t the most auspicious debut, also taps into his raw potential by going back to basics. “Sweetheart” is at its best and most intense during the earlier scenes where Jenn is still just trying to comprehend her situation, and Dillard makes a tasty snack out of the chaos. One especially gripping sequence in which Jenn hides from the monster inside a hollowed out tree trunk builds a visceral and immersive bit of cinematic terror from nothing but Clemons’ face, the dark void around her, and the nightmarish cacophony of noises that are coming from just inches away (the monster is more fun to listen to than he is to look at, as it taunts its prey with a guttural cry that makes it sound like it’s laughing at Jenn).

[aresaphrodites]

this crown of thorns.

Summary: 

She never knew Jughead Jones. She would never know the man in that video, happy and carefree amidst all the death and war around them.

She knew Winter; a man who was fearless, feared. A man who was quiet and cold, almost a statue of a human being. She knew a man with enough demons and monsters to echo her own. She knew a man that stayed up all night, thoughts plagued with nightmares of deaths he wished he could forget. She didn’t know the war hero, she knew the asset; the man who brought war with him. She loved Winter. She didn’t love Jughead.

MARVEL AU. Some events were taken from CA:TWS. Betty = Black Widow. Archie = Captain America. Jughead = The Winter Soldier. Veronica is Hawkeye, Reggie is Iron Man, and Cheryl is Scarlet Witch although they’re only really mentioned, not key characters in the story. 

As of right now, this story is just a one shot. I could consider adding another part if anyone wants it, though.

Thank you to @bettydooper and @itstenafterfour for cheering me on with this fic. And thank you to @jaded-youth for helping me with the ending. You guys are too good to me. 

Jug speaks Russian in this fic so a few translations are (and don’t blame me if they aren’t entirely correct. I used Google, lol.):

Не стесняйтесь - Do not hesitate. 

мое сердце - My heart.

Вы мое сердце - You are my heart. 

ENJOY!

Life is weird. You wake up one day and you don’t really know how you got there or what happened prior to that one specific day. It’s just like you wake up and suddenly you can’t really remember anything from before, but you know that you’ve been alive for however many consecutive years and it’s just weird. People show you pictures and videos of yourself and they laugh about how cute and funny you used to be. They say things like ‘Oh, remember that time when?’ but no. You don’t remember any of it. You don’t remember a single thing. You nod, though. You nod and act like you have any clue what they’re talking about.

Betty Cooper sometimes feels like she hasn’t known anything from before she was a teenager. She doesn’t remember what it was like to be a child. She can’t remember if she was ever actually a child at all. She has no memories of swings and playgrounds. She doesn’t remember what it’s like to have tea parties and play with dolls.

She must have been a little girl at some point. She didn’t just wake up one day at the age of ten. Someone must have given birth to her. She must have had a mother and a father, maybe even a brother or a sister. She wonders if they’re still alive, if they ever think of her. She thinks about searching for them sometimes, but she never goes through with it. She’s scared of what she could find. She knows not to get her hopes up. Good things don’t happen to people like her.

Betty Cooper might have been a little girl once, but she had never been a child. She never would be a child.

“Cooper,” a voice calls from behind her. She turns around and Archie Andrews is looking at her with those eyes of his that always look so dead, so tired. “You okay?”

She feels bad that he’s asking her that. She doesn’t deserve to have people worry over her. Archie Andrews though, he deserved that. A fallen war hero, barely back from the dead itself; he deserved all the love and worry that he was faced with constantly. She knew that he hated having people baby him. He didn’t want the fame and responsibility that came with being Captain America; just like Betty never wanted the dread and death that followed Black Widow around.

“Great,” she tells him, smiling the smile that she’s perfected over the years. It’s the one that says ‘I’m perfect. I’m perfect in all and every way.’

She hates it. She hates being perfect, because she knows that she is and she knows what it means. It doesn’t mean that she’s a good girl who never gets in trouble; a girl who is pure and kind. It doesn’t mean any of that. She’s the perfect killer. That’s all she’ll ever be.

Archie nods. He knows that she’s lying. He always knows when she’s lying. He used to lecture her about it, being America’s golden boy and all, but he doesn’t lecture her anymore. She feels like maybe he understands. Maybe he lies too sometimes. She can hear him at night, screaming and crying. She hears the way he throws things all over his bedroom. She hears cries and then she hears nothing. She asked him about it one time and he just gave her a tired smile. He didn’t throw things after that. But he still cried. It didn’t matter how thick the walls were at the Avengers tower, she could always hear the broken cries of man who lost his whole world seventy years ago.

When Cap came off the ice, the United States cheered for their fallen hero. She remembers the day perfectly. Every news channel was talking about it, pictures of his face were plastered everywhere. It was the same picture of him that was taken during the war; him standing tall in his uniform, staring right at the camera with a smile on his face.

He had been happy. Once upon a time, Archie Andrews had been happy. He had been in the middle of a war and yet, he still smiled. There was still war and death, even seventy years later. War would never leave the world and Archie followed it like the true soldier he was, but the only difference was that he didn’t smile anymore. Sometimes she wonders if maybe he wished he would have died up in that plane all those years ago. Sometimes she wishes that he would have. At least then he wouldn’t be so sad.

The tower is quiet. Reggie is out at some kind of press meeting in D.C. and he won’t be back until tonight. Betty doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or not. The tower is quiet without him, way too quiet, and the silence between her and Archie is so thick. They’re friends, of course they are. In fact, they probably get along better with each other than anyone else in the team, but that’s the problem. They know each other too well, their secrets and nightmares, they know them all. Betty doesn’t necessarily like that. At least when Mantle’s around, him and Archie are arguing with each other so much that they don’t really have time to focus on anything else. Sometimes she thinks they argue a little too much.

“Ronnie says we should train,” Archie tells her as he holds up his phone in her direction. He’s still getting used to technology, but at least he doesn’t flinch every time his phone vibrates now.

“We always train.” She’s been training since she was a little girl. She’s tired of it. “Tell her to come over here and train with you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks her, picking up on the slight edge to her voice. “We’re friends, Betty. You can talk to me.”

She wants to remind him that if it weren’t for all the fucked up stuff they’d endured throughout their life, that they wouldn’t have been friends at all. If Archie Andrews had never picked up the shield and gone off to fight Nazis all those years ago, they wouldn’t be friends. If Betty had never been taken away from her family to go learn how to become the world’s most lethal assassin, they wouldn’t be friends. In a perfect world, they don’t know each other. In a perfect world, they aren’t friends. In a perfect world, Betty isn’t perfect.

“I need some air,” she says suddenly as she gets up from the couch. Archie looks at her like he wants to stop her, but he won’t because deep down he understands what it’s like. He knows all about the demons and monsters that plagued their thoughts and he knows that sometimes you have to run to escape them.

She wonders if she’ll ever stop running. She wonders if she even knows how to stop anymore.

Training never stops.

Everything in the Red Room qualifies as training. It never ends. She can’t remember the last time she sat down and had a moment to herself, a moment of peace and quiet. A moment where she could be herself, the version of herself she cooked up in her mind at night when her nightmares kept her awake; the nightmares that were her reality.

She had a version of herself, happy and carefree, living anywhere else. She has a family, friends, she’s happy. She doesn’t kill people. She doesn’t know what someone’s eyes look like right before they die. She doesn’t know what it’s like to have someone beg for their life. She doesn’t know what bones sound like as they snap under her touch.

‘Eyes up.’ The lady snaps in Russian. Betty isn’t Russian. She knows that much. She doesn’t know how she got here. She doesn't know why she’s here. She doesn’t know anything.

She looks up. She obeys.

It’s the first time she sees him.

She can’t see his eyes. His long hair falls into his face, matted and a little bit greasy, as he looks down at the ground. He’s wearing a black, leather getup and he should look normal, normal enough for the Red Room at least, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because his left arm is made completely out of metal, from his shoulder all the way to his fingertips. She’s never seen anything like it before.

‘Begin.’

It’s like a second nature, the way her body reacts to the command. She jabs her fist out and watches in complete shock as the man ducks the punch. He’s still looking down at the floor, hair still covering his face, and he doesn’t even lose his footing. She frowns and reaches out to hit him again. This time, he grabs her fist and twists her arm behind her back.

She doesn’t cry out. She learned long ago not to cry out when she was in pain. Instead, she clenches her jaw and breathes out through her nose. She digs her feet into the ground and then brings up her leg and stomps down on the man’s boot covered foot. She doubts it hurts him, but she isn’t trying to hurt him. She needs him to become unfocused, taken off guard, and it works. He must not have expected her to still be able to think or move under the grip he’d had her arm in, but that’s where he was wrong. She had endured far worse than that.

She kicks him in the side and this time he does lose his balance as he stumbles to the side. This seems to anger him as he finally looks up at her. She gasps as she looks at his eyes. They’re a deep green color, but that’s not what shocks her. It’s the way he seems to be looking at her like she’s nothing. She can tell in his stance that he’s angry with the way she one upped him, but his eyes look void of any and all emotion. It’s unnerving and for the first time in a long time, she feels scared.

He steps towards her and reaches out for her, but she dodges it and brings her fist up to punch him in the jaw. His head snaps back and she twirls around, putting herself behind him and then wraps her arms around his neck as she forces him down to the ground.

His knees barely touch the ground before he’s standing back up, reaching up with his own hands to grab at her. She uses his body as leverage and brings her legs up to wrap around his neck. As he stands up tall again, she brings her hands together and hits him in the face. She thinks that it might end there, but instead he just shakes his head and leans back, making her lose her balance. Once he feels her grip loosen, he reaches up for her and grabs her, tossing her onto the ground afterwards.

She lands back on the floor with a hard thud and pain erupts throughout her entire body. She can hear sometime telling her something, but the words sound muffled to her.

She opens her eyes and gasps in shock when she sees a metal fist coming down at her face. Without a second thought, she rolls away from the oncoming impact and flinches to herself when she hears the sound the fist makes as it hits the ground.

She jumps up to her feet and roundhouse kicks the man in the face, not giving him any time to stand up again. He goes down and as he does, Betty reaches for the knife she keeps in her thigh holster and yanks it out before jumping on top of the man and bringing her hand up to kill him.

That’s what they do here. If you can’t keep up then you die. There are no do overs. Not here, not now. The man looks at her, empty eyes and for the first time in a long time, she feels sad.

He doesn’t look scared or even worried about what’s about to happen. The action startles her so much that she hesitates.

‘Не стесняйтесь.’ The man says simply and it takes Betty by surprise as she looks down at him, shocked that he’s actually said something to her. Before she can even realize what he’s said, he grabs the knife from her hand with his metal one and flips them over, pinning her to the ground before bringing the metal of the blade to her neck, pressing down on the skin there.

The people remember.

That’s what everyone usually tells Archie when they go out places. The people remember what he did for the country; for the world, and they appreciate him. He smiles, timidly and usually forcely, but he still gives them the validation they need; that he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. For Betty, it’s not that simple. The things she’s done? The things she’s seen? People don’t know about that. They look at her and they see the woman who’s helped Captain America keep the world safe and alive recently. They thank her too, but she doesn’t smile at them and offer the hope they want. She just nods.

She wonders what they would say if they all knew the truth.

There’s a bench in Central Park that she likes to sit at sometimes when she just needs to think. It’s nice to get fresh air and watch the world carry on in front of her eyes. She wishes that she could be one of the women running with her girl friends, gossiping about whatever juvenile things their significant others did that weekend. She doesn’t have any girl friends, but even if she did, she wouldn’t be gossiping about men with them.

She has no man in her life. Not anymore.

Veronica likes to think of them as friends, but Betty can’t allow that. She can never get close to someone that way again. Archie is different. He’s seen things, he’s experienced the horrible things in the world first hand. He knows the way their lives work and how they’ll end. Veronica still thinks the world can be saved. She thinks that one day they’ll all be able to live happily ever after. Even Cheryl, the girl who watched her twin brother die right in front of her eyes, has some hope for the future. They’re both young; they’re naive.

Betty accepted her fate long ago. She’s either going to die with a bullet to the head or a knife to the throat. There’s no other option. She’ll go out fighting, it’s the only possible way.

Her life feels like it’s on standby. She spends all her time waiting. Waiting for the next mission, for the next attack. She wakes up in the morning and spends her time waiting until she can sleep so she can begin the cycle all over again. She waits for the day that it’ll all finally be over. She didn’t used to think this way. Once upon a time, she’d looked forward to the sun rising every morning. That had been a different time though, back when he was still there; when he was still alive. Sometimes if she closes her eyes and focuses hard enough, she can see his eyes looking at her. Most of the time they had still portrayed that nearly lifeless look, but sometimes, when they were alone in the quiet hours of the night, he’d look at her and he’d see her. It was in those hours that she’d see glimpses of the man he might have once been and he saw the girl she’d made up in her mind.

Her fingernails dig into the palm of her hands, drawing blood, as she remembers him. It hurts too much to think of him these days, especially because now she knows. She knows who he is and what he did. She knows his real name and the man he once was. She can’t escape his face anymore.

She remembers when she’d first found out. Archie had dragged her down to the Smithsonian. It had been right after he’d woken up from the ice, only a few months after she’d been saved by S.H.I.E.L.D.. He told her that he needed to see the exhibit, the one dedicated to him; he needed to see how people remembered him. Betty had thought it was a bad idea and she was right. It just turned out to be bad for her.

It was like seeing a ghost.

She’d never been to the exhibit before. She didn’t really have time for it. She still didn’t like being in large crowds. She couldn’t trust the people around her. As she stood closely by Archie though, she felt a little safer. People wouldn’t harm her if she was with their hero.

He wore a cap and kept his head down, avoiding the eyes of everyone at all costs. Betty didn’t have to do that. No one knew who she was. She was no one, just like she’d always been.

It was kind of unreal at first, seeing Archie’s original suit on the mannequin. She wanted to reach out and touch it. Several other mannequins surrounded him, each wearing their own getup. Archie didn’t seem to pay attention to any of them except for the one that was directly behind him to the right. The mannequin was wearing a blue jacket and Archie didn’t hesitate as he reached his hand out and touched the material gently before ripping it back, as if it had burned him.

‘It shouldn’t be up here.’

Betty looks at him in question, but he doesn’t pay any attention to her.

‘His jacket should be with someone who loves it, who loved him. It was his favorite. He wouldn’t want it hanging in some old museum.’

‘Was he your friend?’ She asks, noticing the way his eyes start to water slightly.

‘He was my brother,’ he says softly. ‘In every sense except biological, he was my brother. He was always watching out for me, little Archie Andrews who couldn’t step down from a fight. He always protected me and when he needed me the most, I couldn’t do the same for him.’

Betty doesn’t say anything, mostly because she understands what that’s like. She had tried to save someone once too. It didn’t work out that well either.

‘I should have died with him that day.’

The words startled her. Archie had never said anything like that before and she didn’t know how serious he was.

‘I wish I had died with him that day.’

‘The world needed you,’ Betty tells him, not really knowing how to comfort him. She’d never had to comfort anyone before.

‘He needed me more.’

And that’s that. Archie turns away from the costume exhibit and walks off towards the memorial. She’s never seen the memorial, but she can hear the words that are spoken out through the intercom.

‘From childhood playground to the front lines of war, Sergeant Forsythe Pendleton “Jughead” Jones III and Captain Archie Andrews were inseparable. Jones followed right along Captain America as they banded what would become known as the Howling Commandos. Jones was the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country.’

Archie stares at a moving video on a screen in the exhibit and Betty follows his gaze.

She nearly faints at what she sees.

It’s him. Winter is on the screen in front of her. She moves closer, heart rate kicking up as she takes in the sight in front of her.

Winter is there, laughing and smiling right next to Archie as he throws a hand over the redhead’s shoulders. They both look so happy and Betty feels like she can’t breathe.

His hair is a lot shorter than it had been when she’d last seen him; right before they took him away from her, before they killed him, but she would recognize his face anywhere. His eyes are full of light; of life. It’s something Betty never got to see before. It’s beautiful. It’s heartbreaking.

‘Archie…’ she whispers out, begging for the other man’s attention. It comes slowly, pained, and he has to force himself to tear his eyes away from his once best friend. ‘That’s him. That’s Winter.’ 

She looks back on it now and realizes that maybe she should have never said a single thing to Archie. She’d seen the way his face had gone from confused to doubtful to hopeful. They had a long talk that night. Betty told him all about the Red Room, something she’d yet to do with anyone else. She told him about how they had taken Winter away from her. She couldn’t call him Jughead. That wasn’t his name, not to her. She never knew Jughead Jones. She would never know the man in that video, happy and carefree amidst all the death and war around them.

She knew Winter; a man who was fearless, feared. A man who was quiet and cold, almost a statue of a human being. She knew a man with enough demons and monsters to echo her own. She knew a man that stayed up all night, thoughts plagued with nightmares of deaths he wished he could forget. She didn’t know the war hero, she knew the asset; the man who brought war with him. She loved Winter. She didn’t love Jughead.

That was the first time she’d ever seen Archie cry. He cried as he longed for the friend that Betty had only seen just a few short years ago. He cried for the man that he’d once known and he cried for the man he had become. He cried for having to relive the death all over again.

Betty didn’t cry.

She had cried when they took him from her; only a few tears and not in front of anyone else. She knew better than to make that mistake.

She wonders what happened to Winter; how he ended up where he did. How he was alive after all those years. Her mind reeled with all the unanswered questions. She didn’t voice them though, that had been Archie. Archie who had barged into S.H.I.E.D., eyes blazing as he demanded someone to tell him what was going on, what he was missing.

Conversations about Serpents and terrorists rung out into the air; a man who had helped the enemy shape the world for almost a century. Archie had tried to drink himself blind that night, but it didn’t work.

‘He was a war hero,’ Archie had said with empty eyes. It was the first time she’d ever seen him look like he was giving up. ‘He was a war hero and they just took that all away.’

Betty doesn’t know Jughead Jones, but a small part of her sometimes wishes that she did. What was he like? Was he just as strong and hard headed as Winter had been? Archie had once told her stories of how he would charm all the girls in Brooklyn. No one could resist Jughead Jones and that smirk he would give them. Betty knew a little bit about that.

Her feet were aching and her muscles were screaming out at her. The last training session had been especially hard today and all she wanted was to take a shower and rest. She knew that wouldn’t happen though. There wasn’t time for rest in the Red Room. You could rest when you were dead. That’s what Madam B. had always said.

She was allowed to shower though. The cold water helped her aching muscles and she yearned to stay under there forever.

The sound of heavy footsteps echos in the quiet restroom, the sound of the shower door being open rings out, and she knows who it is before she even opens her eyes.

It’s him.

He’s fully dressed in front of her. His hair has recently been cut, not by much though, and she can see his eyes now as he looks at her. He doesn’t try to hide them from her anymore and she doesn’t hide herself from him as she stands up tall, completely bare in front of him.

He just looks at her, tilting his head to the side as he takes in her physical appearance. She knows what he’s looking at before he even does anything. He reaches out with his hand, the flesh one not the cold metal one, and touches the bruise that’s forming on her cheekbone.

‘It’s okay,’ she tells him as she brings her hand up to hold his. The touch startles him at first just like it always does, but his shoulders soon sag in familiarity and he lets her grab his hand and pull it away slowly. ‘It’ll heal. Just like yours heal.’  

Except his wounds heal abnormally fast. She’s never seen anything like it before. Things don’t hurt him the way they hurt the others. He never stays down too long, even when the beating he takes should leave him a nearly lifeless lump on the ground.

He steps closer towards her, the shower isn’t a big one and their bodies are nearly already pressed up against each other. His combat boots slosh against the water and a part of her wants to ask him to undress. She won’t though. Because he never truly does.

He lowers his head and brings their lips closer together, but not close enough that they’re touching. Betty stays completely still as she waits for his next move.

It comes soon enough. His lips are slightly chapped as they press up against hers, but they still feel better than anything else. She’s never kissed anyone before, not until he came into her life, but she can’t imagine doing it with anyone else. He kisses her deep and passionately and Betty has to grab onto his arms to stop herself from doing something stupid like fainting.

‘мое сердце.’

It’s what he always calls her, the Russian words falling off his tongue so beautifully. His accent isn’t Russian though, so she knows that he’s not a native. His accent is flat, mirroring her own and she knows that they’re from the same place. She often thinks about asking him, but she isn’t prepared for the answers she’ll get. She wonders if he even knows or if he’s like her; confused and lost.

‘Don’t be gentle,’ she tells him. He looks at her, eyes a bit nervous, but she just nods. Winter knows what she needs. He always knows what she needs.

He puts his hands on the back of her thighs and picks her up in one swift motion. She gasps out in surprise and wraps her legs around his waist to stop herself from falling, even though she knows he’d never let her fall.

His metal hand is cold against her skin but it feels so good, a stark contrast to the warmth of his flesh hand on her other thigh. He digs his fingers into her thighs, like he can’t get enough of them, and she hisses out at the pain of it. It feels good against the soreness of the muscles there and he must see that because he digs them in a little deeper.

Betty groans out before wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his face down to hers, pressing their lips together in a kiss that is more teeth than it is anything else. It’s a contrast to the one they shared earlier, but it’s just what she needs right now. He bites at her lip a bit harshly before pulling away and licking at the spot, trying to soothe it over.

She knows they don’t have enough time. They never have enough time. She dreams of a day when it’ll be just them, no more Red Room and no more handlers. She dreams of a day when they can lay together in a bed that’s bigger than twin sized; when they can sleep in until noon and she can wake up before him, bring him breakfast in bed and then waste the day away together.

But for now they have a cramped shower and that has to be good enough for them.

He unzips his pants quickly, using only one hand and Betty tosses her head back against the wall behind her. She wishes they could savor this moment.

He presses himself into her gently and she moans out at the feeling of him inside of her. No matter how many times they do this, she never gets used to the way he feels inside of her. She feels full and complete, like she wants them to stay in this position forever. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

He begins a steady pace, pushing his hips into hers gently as she bounces up and down in his arms. The water cascades around them and for a moment, she lets herself think that they’re anywhere else but here.

‘Harder,’ she pants out. He does as she asks, snapping his hips into her with a little more force. It allows him to slide deeper into her and Betty lets her head fall back as her eyes all but roll to the back of her head. It’s fast and dirty and it’s everything she’s ever wanted, everything she’s ever needed.

It doesn’t take long before Winter comes apart completely inside of her. He always comes inside of her; there’s no reason not to, not after the graduation ceremony.

He presses their foreheads together, both of them are panting lightly.

‘I wish we could stay here forever, Elizabeth. If it weren’t for you, I would have lost myself long ago.’

The words are spoken so lightly by him that she nearly misses them. It’s not like him to be so sentimental and she’s taken off guard for a moment before she smiles.

‘I love you.’ She tells him, because she does. She’s never loved anyone before, but she loves the broken man in front of her.

He looks at her a bit unsure at first before he presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

‘Вы мое сердце.’ 

You are my heart.

That’s what he had told her. He hadn’t said he loved her, but he didn’t need to. She knew he did. They both knew that what he told her meant more than anything else. She was his whole heart, just as he was hers. They didn’t make sense. They were two machines, created by people more dangerous than they could ever be, built to create chaos and leave destruction whenever they went. They had both been taught that they could never love, never be normal, but yet she found love and the closest thing to normal that she could and she found it wrapped up in him.

Her phone starts to buzz rapidly in her pocket, letting her know that it’s one of the Avengers trying to get ahold of her. She doesn’t know how she feels about being one of the “good guys” now, but she’ll take what she can get.

Archie’s number flashes on the screen at her. The words ‘TOWER NOW. 911’ screaming back at her. She gets up from her spot on the bench and walks over to the motorcycle she’d brought to the park with her. Throwing a leg over it, she starts it up and begins to dash through all of the traffic, ignoring the honks she receives in retaliation.

“Archie!” She yells as she walks into the tower. He’s pacing back and forth across the floor, suit on and shield across his back. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been a breach over at S.H.I.E.L.D. Ronnie says that she thinks some people have been undercover as Serpents this entire time. We need to get down there right now.”

“I could have met you there!” Betty yells at him, aware that they’re now wasting time.

“You’re going like that?” He looks down at her clothes. She’s wearing a pair of tight black jeans and high heeled boots, a black top and a leather jacket. Not exactly fighting clothes, but they don’t call her Black Widow for nothing. She’s fought in high heels before. They’re her favorite accessory. “This might be a fight, Betty.”

“Things have been a little dull around here,” she says with a slight smirk.

Archie just nods before making his way towards the elevator. “We’re taking the motorcycle.”

Traffic is bad. Archie swerves through it as much as he can, but S.H.I.E.L.D. is across the city from them and they don’t really have much time. They’re on the highway right now and Betty is about to just run the rest of the way.

It comes suddenly and out of nowhere when the bike randomly stalls in the middle of the highway.

“What the hell?” Archie says to himself. Betty is just about to yell at him for forgetting to fuel up when she looks up and stops.

A man stands at the end of the bridge directly across from them. He’s covered completely head to toe in black. She can’t see an inch of skin on him, a black leather getup covers his entire torso and arms, black gloves even rest on his hands, and his face is covered with a black mask and eye goggles. The only thing she can see is long dark hair, nearly black, that fans out around his face. He stands tall, unmoving, and Betty stands up from the bike.

“We have company,” Betty tells Archie, who looks up and follows her gaze with his own curious one.

“Who…” before he can say anything else, the man picks up his arms and Betty and Archie see the large gun he’d been holding.

“Duck!” She yells out, grabbing Archie and throwing them both onto the ground just as the man starts shooting the gun. “Who the fuck is that?”

“I don’t know!” Archie yells at her, looking at her incredulously. “How the fuck should I know?”

The man starts walking towards them, stopping traffic as he gets in the way of the other pedestrians. People begin to get out of their cars and run off of the highway and Betty almost wants to do the same.

“We got more company,” Archie says and points behind them. Betty turns around and sees three more men, dressed exactly like the other one and curses to herself.

“We can’t outrun them all.”

“We can try.” Archie stands up and pulls his shield off his back, holding it in front of them as the men start shooting at them. “I got them! Can you take care of the other one?”

She only has one gun and a knife on her, but it’s more than enough. She nods towards Archie and turns to face the man. He aims the gun towards her as he moves closer but before he can shoot, Betty swings her legs over the edge of the railing and jumps off the highway, landing on an abandoned car underneath them. A sharp pain runs through her legs, but she doesn’t pay any mind to it. She jumps off of the car and turns around just in time to see the man follow her lead as he lands on the car too.

He struts down the hood of the car and Betty falters slightly as she watches him. Something about him seems so familiar and she gets lost in the way he moves so gracefully.

He seems confused as he looks around for her and that’s when Betty realizes that she’s supposed to be “taking care of him”. She runs up behind him and kicks him square in the back, making him lose his footing as he stumbles forward. His grip on the gun loosens, but he doesn’t drop it completely.

He turns around and immediately begins shooting but Betty’s already circled her way around him. She doesn’t want to kill him. She made a pact with herself long ago that she would never kill again unless completely necessary, but she needs to unarm him now or else that’s all going to be for nothing.

Doing what she does best, she runs and jumps up, using the man’s body and her strength to climb up and wrap her legs around his neck. It’s her signature move that’s always been able to knock Archie off his feet and it seems to do the same to the man as he finally drops his gun in surprise.

Betty pulls out the wire that she keeps in her jacket pocket and wraps it around the man’s neck, trying to cut off his air supply. If she can get him to pass out then that could make this a lot easier.

He brings his hands up and tries to pull her arms away, but her grip on him is way too tight. She watches as he begins to go slack and she sighs in relief.

Her relief is short lived when she’s suddenly thrown off of his back and throttled across the street. She lands roughly on the gravel and rolls a few times before finally coming to a stop. She groans out in pain as she tries to get to her feet again.

The man is talking to someone else, instructing them to do something, but Betty can’t understand a word they’re saying.

The man’s attention turns back to her and she watches in fear as he begins to stalk over to her. There’s no way she’s going to be able to fight him off right now. Her head feels fuzzy from the landing and she can’t even see him properly. He grabs a knife out of his thigh holster and twirls it around in his hand menacingly.

Betty shuts her eyes tightly and waits. If she’s going to die then she’d rather not watch it happen.

She waits but nothing happens. She hears a deep grunt and opens her eyes to see that the man is staggering backwards, an arrow through his shoulder. Betty whirls around, knowing exactly who those arrows belong to.

Veronica Lodge stands on top of the railing of the highway. Bow and arrow ready as she looks down at Betty.

“You good?” She yells out.

Betty nods, her head finally clearing up. “I got him! Go help Archie!”

Veronica nods and Betty turns her attention back towards the man. She watches in horror as he rips the arrow out of himself before snapping his head up. She can’t see his eyes and that makes everything so much scarier. She has no idea what he looks like and it makes her nervous. She feels like she’s fighting blindly.

She runs up to man, knowing there’s no other way to get around him. She throws her fist out, trying to land a punch to his stomach but he jumps back and grabs her arm, swinging her around over him before tossing her to the ground again. This time though, she jumps back up quickly as she ignores the pain in her back. He tries to punch her but she dodges it and elbows him in the back hard, causing him to fall forward onto his knees.

She roundhouse kicks him and watches as he falls into the ground face first. Just as she’s about to reach for her gun, he flips over and swings his legs out, bringing her down with him. She grunts as she hits the cement again but manages to get her knife out of her thigh holster.

Just as the man crouches over her, she picks up the knife and makes to stab him in the shoulder.

Before she can, he reaches out and grabs it like it’s nothing before tossing it off to the side. Betty gasps and looks at him in alarm.

Who the hell was she fighting?

They begin to throw punches left and right once she stands up. She hasn’t fought like this in a while and for some reason it takes her back to the Red Room, to all the training she had to endure. She was groomed to become the perfect killer and she was. She was the best of the best and right now she could feel it in the way she dodged and ducked every single hit the man was aiming at her.

“Betty!” She hears Archie yells from behind her. “Duck!”

She does as he asks and the man loses his balance as his hand swings out and hits the air. Archie throws his shield forward and it takes the man off guard as it hits him straight in the chest, making him roll backwards onto the gravel.

The black mask he’d been wearing falls off and Betty looks at it in wonder. Her heart is beating rapidly in her chest as she watches the man begin to stand up. His hand goes up to his face and he takes off the goggles, letting them fall to the ground besides him.

Archie jogs up to her, standing by her side as the both of them watch the man slowly turn around, waiting to see who had been behind the mask the entire time.

Finally, he faces them and Betty’s entire world stops.

Green eyes stare back at her; empty, lifeless, but familiar. A face she’d spent so many years trying to forget is looking back at her.

“Jughead?” Archie gasps out.

Betty takes a step forward and then two more before Archie reaches out and grabs her hand, stopping her. She pulls her hand out of his, but stays put. The man seems confused by the whole thing as he looks at them with wide, frightened eyes. She’s looking at him with broken eyes; eyes that wished they were seeing anything else. She can’t go through this again. She can’t.

But he’s here. He’s right in front of her.

“Winter?”

The man tilts his head. “Who the hell is Winter?”

[theoddcatlady]

Strength Potion

Edward The Great: Hey man you awake?

Weird Cedric: dude it’s three am

Weird Cedric: of course I’m awake what’s up

Edward The Great: Tryouts for the wrestling team are in three weeks. I don’t think I’ll be able to take the heat. I know I won’t make it.

Weird Cedric: Hey hey hey don’t give up now you GOTTA make it

Edward The Great: I’m a stick. Let’s be honest. Even if I worked out every day there’s no way I could match up to those meatheads.

Weird Cedric: steroids?

Edward The Great: Are you… you’re absolutely serious. Dude. No. Illegal. Expensive. And it shrinks your dick.

Weird Cedric: oh yeah

Weird Cedric: I’ll keep my eyes peeled and tell you if I come up with something

Weird Cedric: don’t give up man you got this

Edward The Great: Thanks for the false confidence. It’s shockingly working.

_ _ _

Bunny: <3 <3 <3 hi Eddie!

Edward The Great: Oh! Hi Alyssa.

Bunny: So Cedric slipped to me that you wanna join the wrestling team?

Edward The Great: I’m going to murder your brother, I swear to god. But yeah. What do you think?

Bunny: The fact you’re trying at all I think is super cool! :D I wish you luck!

Edward The Great: Really? Thanks… but if I’m gonna be honest, I don’t think they’ll let me in. I’m trying really hard but I don’t think I’m strong enough.

Bunny: … Well…

Edward The Great: Yeah?

Bunny: So um. You know how I love to search the weird parts of the internet? There’s this guy. Name’s Gus.

Edward The Great: I already told Cedric there’s no way in hell I’m not taking steroids.

Bunny: Good for you! I hear they shrink your testicles… but this isn’t steroids. This guy’s a total genius. Natural cure. And if I’m looking correctly, he just put up a new thing about a ‘strength potion’ he’s concocted.

Edward The Great: No shit.

Edward The Great: How much is it? If it even helps me bulk up a little I’ll go for it.

Bunny: Thirty five dollars for a week’s dose. Gus recommends two weeks for the best effect. If you go for it, I’ll pitch in!

Edward The Great: I’m in, why not. If I turn up dead, you know who and what to blame.

Edward The Great: … Bunny?

Edward The Great: Bunny, are you still here?

Bunny: … My dad just got home. He’s mad. I can hear him shouting at Cedric.

Bunny: Oh god I think I forgot to take care of the dishes

Bunny: I have to go

Edward The Great: Stay safe.

_ _ _

Edward The Great: Cedric? Are you two okay?

Weird Cedric: I’m good

Edward The Great: Cedric…

Weird Cedric: … Can’t go to school tomorrow. I got a black eye and it hurts to breathe

Weird Cedric: nothing’s broken though

Weird Cedric: take notes for me

Edward The Great: Shit.

Edward The Great: … And Bunny?

Weird Cedric: she made me promise not to tell

Edward The Great: I’m going to kill him.

Weird Cedric: no man my dad’s a fucktard but he’s also huge and a COP with a GUN

Weird Cedric: you don’t stand a chance

Edward The Great: Your sister told me about this ‘Strength Potion’ thing. Wanna give it a shot?

Weird Cedric: after tonight hell yeah

Weird Cedric: maybe if I can overpower him just once he’ll finally leave us alone

_ _ _

Edward The Great: Okay I’m adding your sister to this chat.

Bunny: Hi bro :D :D <3 <3 <3

Weird Cedric: hey baby sis

Weird Cedric: what’s up man

Edward The Great: Did you get the stuff?

Weird Cedric: yup it comes in a powder you mix with milk

Weird Cedric: looks like nesquik smells like shit

Edward The Great: Smells all burnt to me. Turns the milk a weird color too. It’s turned like mossy green.

Bunny: Bottoms up, boys! :D I can’t wait to see the results!

Edward The Great: Oh fuck me.

Weird Cedric: dude my sister’s in here

Weird Cedric: same though my eyes are watering and I’m trying not to barf

Bunny: Oh no D: I’ll bring you some orange juice Cedric!

Edward The Great: Tastes like ashes. Or the time my mom made me drink charcoal infused water because I had a stomach bug. Coats my throat like it too. UGH.

Edward The Great: Orange juice does the trick though. If I don’t see results like ASAP I’m giving up.

Weird Cedric: agreed. This shit nasty

Bunny: Oh shit that’s dad’s car in the drive! Cedric, did you take out the garbage?

Weird Cedric: oh god I didn’t. I’ll do it fast maybe he won’t notice. Night Ed.

_ _ _

Edward The Great: My stomach hurts but these results are. LEGIT.

Weird Cedric: I know

Weird Cedric: it’s been five days and I’m already trimming down

Edward The Great: I know! Same workout schedule and my abs are on the way to rock. Hard.

Edward The Great: Look out, Coach Mayer. You’re gonna have a new star on the team.

Weird Cedric: you’re working out? Shit I should start doing that

Edward The Great: Oh hardy fucking har.

Edward The Great: So um. Alyssa.

Weird Cedric: what about her

Edward The Great: Has she… talked about me lately?

Weird Cedric: I get it you want to bone my sister

Weird Cedric: its cool though

Edward The Great: Oh thank god I thought you’d kill me.

Weird Cedric: she’s into you and you’re like the least shitty person I know.

Weird Cedric: you break her heart though and I’ll break your spine

Weird Cedric: with my new bod

Edward The Great: I get it I get it

Edward The Great: I love her man. I’d rather stab myself than hurt her.

_ _ _

Bunny: So? Don’t keep me waiting! :D Did you make it? Did you?

Edward The Great: Well…

Edward The Great: Yes. :D

Bunny: Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m gonna be dating a guy on the wrestling team!

Edward The Great: Where’d you get that idea?

Bunny: … Cedric.

Edward The Great: He’s dead to me.

Edward The Great: But you really want to date me?

Bunny: Duh! J You goof. You’re super sweet, and you’re my brother’s best friend! If my brother thinks you’re good people, you’re good people.

Bunny: BTW have you experienced any side effects? From the Strength Potion?

Edward The Great: Well, now that you mention it… other than the abs, I’ve gotten a bit of a cough. I feel like I’m choking on dust. It’s probably just a cold though. A few of the other dudes on the team have the same thing.

Bunny: It probably is then. I’m just a worry wart.

Bunny: Soooo, see you Wednesday for dinner and a movie?

Edward The Great: I can see who wears the pants in this relationship, and I like it. Absolutely.

_ _ _

Weird Cedric: ok mayday mayday Houston we got problems

Weird Cedric: I swear to god if you don’t wake up right now I’m telling my sister that the Strength Potion shrunk your penis too

Edward The Great: What the fuck?! Your penis is shrinking?

Weird Cedric: well not yet

Weird Cedric: but shit just got weird

Weird Cedric: I woke up because I was coughing and I’m not shitting you I started coughing up mud

Edward The Great: The fuck???

Weird Cedric: I turned on the light and everything

Weird Cedric: It’s not blood. It’s flat out dirt.

Weird Cedric: dirt that smells like the shitty strength potion dirt

Edward The Great: Okay okay okay. First off, try to convince your dad to let you go to the doctor tomorrow.

Weird Cedric: fat fucking chance

Edward The Great: I said TRY. And next, let’s both cut off the strength potion. If you’re coughing up dirt, odds are I will be too. It’s probably something that’s built up in our respiratory system because we’ve been taking so much.

Weird Cedric: dude I only did the trial period

Weird Cedric: the three days

Weird Cedric: I’ve been out for weeks

Edward The Great: … Fuck.

_ _ _

Edward The Great: How’s Cedric?

Bunny: Bedrest. The doctor says that it’s a kind of fungus that’s grown in his lungs, but my dad refuses to let him stay in hospital. Says it’s too pricey and we can’t afford it. Can’t afford it, my ass, we’d be able to if he didn’t drink away his fucking paycheck!

Bunny: I’m sorry Edward… how are you doing?

Edward The Great: Not great if I’m honest. Literally every time I cough a puff of dust comes out. My mom thinks I’ve taken up a pottery class because I reek of clay. Has Cedric’s skin gotten, well… for the lack of better term, is it like some sort of shell?

Bunny: … Holy shit. You too?

Edward The Great: Yeah. And I’m taller. I’m buying new clothes and praying Mom doesn’t notice. My skin’s like cracked mud. It’s getting tougher by the day and it’s getting harder to move my face. I’m basically perma bitch face right now.

Edward The Great: I think I’m… turning into something. I’m so scared.

Edward The Great: Will you still like me even if I’m a monster?

Bunny: Of course! I like you Edward! Not what you look like or your muscles!

Bunny: You’ve always been perfect, Edward. And I

Bunny: my dad’s home oh my god oh my god and he’s kicking up a fit oh my god

Bunny: I lov

_ _ _

Edward The Great: Where the FUCK are you Cedric?!

Edward The Great: I went to your house and your dad’s dead. I heard some of the cops say his body was completely crushed like he was ran over by a car. What happened? Is Alyssa okay? Are YOU okay?

Weird Cedric: This is Alyssa. His fingers are too thick to push the buttons now.

Weird Cedric: How are you hitting them?

Edward The Great: Voice commands. My fingers are weird too. More accurate they’re the size of sausages and the joints are stiff. What happened to us?

Weird Cedric: I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I keep trying to email Gus and he’s not responding. I think you’ve been set up.

Edward The Great: This is not your fault, okay? This is that little prick’s fault. Where are you guys going?

Weird Cedric: We stole dad’s car. Cedric told me of a place to go. He said it’s the one with all those weird stories about goat men? He said you’d understand.

Weird Cedric: I love you. So much.

Edward The Great: Tell him I understand. Thank you. I’ll catch up. One thing about having a body made of stone and mud is that you don’t get tired. I’m gonna find the other guys though… If this is a fungus, I’ve spent the last three weeks coughing it into their faces and they’ve breathed it in. I’m gonna go offline and I’ll see you again.

Edward The Great: I love you too Alyssa. Just as much. Take care of Cedric. And if Gus contacts you, tell me where to find that little piece of shit so he can turn me back.

[reptilerach]

“Rejection”; Chapter Twelve

NOTES: Extra long chapter today to make up for the wait. No swears, and... well, you’ll find out for yourself towards the end of the chapter.  (▰˘◡˘▰) (=ﾟωﾟ)ﾉ

______________________________________________________________                                           

                                             (The next morning…)

You awoke at around 9:30 to the scent of something sweet. Rubbing the crust from around your eyelids and ruffling your hair, you saw Papyrus setting something down on the kitchen table. It appeared to be… spaghetti. You frowned, and sat up straight. The tall skeleton must have saw your sudden movement, as he rushed over to you. He sat down on the floor beside you, booming out a hello.

You covered your ears, wincing from the loud noise. “GOOD MORNING, SLEEPY HEAD!” Papyrus chuckled, and cocked his head to the side. You smiled from his goofiness, and stretched. None of your bones popped, which irritated you, but it didn't last long. “Hey there, Paps.” You yawned mid-sentence, and scratched your shoulders. Papyrus’s happy demeanor faltered for a second, and he fiddled with his gloved thumbs.

“HUMAN, I AM SORRY THAT I MADE YOU CRY LAST NIGHT. I HEATED UP SOME LEFTOVER PASTA TO MAKE YOU HAPPY!” He lowered his head the same a puppy would do when being yelled at, and your brain ached. Oh yeah. I’d completely forgotten. I don’t think I had any dreams last night either; except for one part where I was in the Arctic, freezing, and a warm breeze passed over me to keep me warm. Weird. It felt real...

You reached out a hand, and massaged the innocent skeleton’s skull lovingly. “Oh, Papyrus. I could never stay mad at you!” Papyrus jumped up into the air, and scooped you up into his arms. You braced yourself for the spinning, but instead Papyrus settled back down onto the couch behind you and embraced your body tightly. “THANK YOU, FRIEND (Nickname)! I CANNOT IMAGINE GOING ON WITH MY DAY KNOWING THAT YOU WERE STILL UPSET!”

You felt a tear streak down your cheek at his worry, and squeezed him back hard. “Papyrus, I will always be your friend. Don’t you ever forget that.” You whispered by his face where his ears should be, and felt his cheekbones warm with pure joy. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, until he reached for your blanket and laid it atop your lap. He scooched from out under you, and handed you the remote.

“YOU WAKE UP EARLY COMPARED TO MY BROTHER, (Nickname).” Papyrus mentioned, and an idea occurred to you. “What time do you wake up?” You asked, and Papyrus struck a heroic pose. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WAKE UP AT 6 O'CLOCK SHARP.” Your jaw dropped, and wrinkled your nose. “Why?” You laughed, when his eye sockets bulged slightly.

“DON’T ALL HUMANS WAKE UP AT THE SAME TIME THE GREAT PAPYRUS DOES?” He inquired, and you shook your head. “As you can probably see…” You gestured to yourself, “...that is not true.” You giggled, and Papyrus brought a hand up around his chin. “INTERESTING… FRISK IS AN EARLY RISER LIKE I AM. PERHAPS YOU ARE SPECIAL HUMAN, (Nickname).” You blushed at his compliment (was it a compliment?) and waved a hand at him.

“Hey, what can I say? I’m a night owl.” You shrugged, and Papyrus made a bewildered expression. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE A HUMAN!!” It took you a second to figure out what he meant by that, and when you did, you burst out into laughter. The walls reflected the loud noise, and Papyrus started yelling at you to calm down. “I’M SO CONFUSED!!!” He shouted, and started flailing his arms about like an idiot.

You only laughed harder, and plopped flat onto the floor. Papyrus stopped his crazed running around, and threw you on top of his shoulders. “(Nickname)!! EXPLAIN YOUR RACE!” You wiped a tear, not even minding how strong this guy must have been in order to pick you up so fast like that. “It’s a figure of speech, Paps. I’m a human; when I say I’m a ‘night owl’, that means I like to stay up later than most.”

The skeleton pondered for a moment, and then started chuckling. The rattling of his laughs made you bounce slightly, causing you to wrap your arms around his neck for safety. “OH! THEN MY BROTHER MUST BE AN OWL TOO. HE SELDOM GOES TO HIS ROOM EARLY; MAINLY BECAUSE HE HAS TO READ ME MY BEDTIME STORY.” You recalled how he told Frisk that same bit of information, making you smiled.

“IT’S CALLED-” “-Tales of the Fluffy Bunny?” You finished his sentence for him; he looked up towards you, smiling wide. “HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT, HUMAN?” You flinched, reminding yourself that around Papyrus you had to keep your mouth shut. “U-uh, you told me last night while making dinner! Remember?’

He frowned, and narrowed his eyes at the messed up couch. “HMM… I THINK I DO. BUT, ANYWAYS, LET’S GO EAT THAT DELICIOUS BREAKFAST THAT I HEATED UP JUST FOR YOU!” Papyrus cheered, and took off towards the kitchen. You clung to his scarf, and froze. “Wait, Papyrus-! I’m not gonna fit through the-” Your head clunked painfully against the entryway, and you slipped off of the younger brother’s shoulders.

You fell to the ground hard, and cried out when your spine landed first. You shrunk into the fetal position, and Papyrus spun around quickly. “OH MY GOD!! DEAR (Nickname), ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! I AM SO SORRY!! HOLD ON, LEMME GET SOME HEALING SPAGHETTI-” You cringed at the thought of him pouring spaghetti on you while you mentally screamed in agony. Hair was stuck in your mouth, so you spat it out grossly.

Dear God… I’m about to fall victim to a pasta avalanche. Papyrus came out from the kitchen, and held your breakfast up in the air. He had a fork clutched in the other glove, and you widened your eyes. “HERE YOU GO! THIS SHOULD FIX YOU RIGHT UP!” He fret, and you wrapped your hands around your head, preparing for the attack. Just as you could hear the fork scratching against the plate, a voice called out from above the stairway.

“woah, woah, woah! paps, what are you doing?!”

                                          (About a half hour earlier…)

Sans opened his eye sockets slowly and took in a deep breath from his nasal cavity. A distant noise had disrupted him from his slumber, and it annoyed him greatly. He glared at the clock on his desk across the room, and growled. 9:34. seriously? this is probably the earliest i’ve woken up in a long time. He sat up on his mattress, and cracked his bones tiredly. The loud vibrations bouncing off his door continued, and it almost sounded like...laughter.

Not bothering to get dressed, Sans slipped on his slippers and passed his treadmill. Santa had gotten it for him as a Christmas present a couple of months ago, or whenever the first reset was. He rest a hand on the doorknob, and ignored the dog flying around in his self-sustaining tornado.

The noise was indeed laughter, he confirmed, but it sounded nothing like his brother’s. It was a little deeper, but not much. It made Sans’ hand tremble on the brass, from either anxiety or nerves. The door creaked open, and the noise stopped. He yawned, and scratched his sternum. An emptiness grew inside his ribs at the void of the sudden laughter that made his pulse rise quickly.

He peered over the stairwell, and smiled when he saw Papyrus messing around with someone. Sans squinted, and realized it was (Y/N). He remembered everything that happened the day before, and was shocked how Frisk still hadn’t reset yet. It’d been a few days since the kid moved back in with Toriel, and befriended all the monsters Underground.

A weight fell upon his shoulders from all the information he now has to deal with and try to comprehend that was given to him from the new human yesterday. His grin fell into a frown, and he shut his eyes. (y/n) said that our entire world is a videogame. got it. she also mentioned that she practically knows everything, except for this timeline. she apparently has a very unique soul; one that does not remain the same color or dominant personality trait.

He rubbed his temples frustratingly, but relaxed when he heard Papyrus say something about “breakfast”. Sans opened his eye sockets just as (Y/N) collided with the top part of the doorway to the kitchen; he practically jumped a foot into the air from shock. Sans winced as she hit the ground with an “oomph!”, and curled up into a ball. He waited to see if Papyrus would check for any injuries, pick her up and lay her on the green couch on which she slept, or perhaps even take her hand and-

“OH MY GOD!! DEAR (Nickname), ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! I AM SO SORRY!! HOLD ON, LEMME GET SOME HEALING SPAGHETTI-” Papyrus nearly shrieked, and ran into the room beside him. Sans just watched in confusion from his brother’s choice of action, but made no move to teleport by (Y/N) to make sure she was okay.

However, when he saw how Papyrus was about to dump some “healing spaghetti” onto the wounded human, Sans decided to intervene. “woah, woah, woah! paps, what are you doing?!” Sans shouted, but not so loud that Papyrus would think that he was angry at him again. Sans ran down the stairs, and slid across the carpet next to (Y/N).

He held his hands up in the air, ready to flip the girl and look her over. “I-I WAS JUST PLAYING WITH (Nickname) HERE AND SHE FELL OFF MY SHOULDERS! I THOUGHT THAT SINCE THE PASTA TASTED REALLY GOOD, IT WOULD HEAL HER TOO-” Papyrus stammered, freaking out a little at (Y/N)’s almost unconscious body. Sans grabbed her bicep gently and tugged to see her face.

She laid still, but was groaning under her breath at the welt that was sure to appear on her forehead. Sans sucked in a breath through his teeth upon seeing a large bruise already starting to form above her right eyebrow, and forced himself to remain calm when blood seeped out of the left gash. “paps, use your magic on her.” Sans commanded tenderly, and Papyrus kneeled down across from Sans quickly.

“WHAT SPELL?” He asked, and Sans tripped over his own words. “i-i dunno; the one you used when i broke my finger the other day.” Papyrus nodded, and waved his hands just above her big glasses. Sans wasn’t one for learning healing magic; all his life he was trained to use blue magic, the kinds of spells and summonings for attacks and destruction only.

Meanwhile, on the other hand, Paps was really good at treating illnesses and fixing things. There was no way his magic could rival Toriel’s; she was practically the master of all things medicine and curing. But while Tori was far away from most towns to help sick subjects, Papyrus was always there when someone needed him. He could run very fast, as his legs were practically four feet long, which was an attribute Sans did not have.

Sans was not meant for taking hits, as he had very little HP and a low attack stat, but that didn’t mean he was weak. In fact, Sans was probably the strongest and scariest monster there is in the Underground. He’s right up there next to Asriel Dreemur in his godly form; proving that whenever Chara possesses Frisk and goes through the Genocide route, it’s going to take an insane amount of time and skill in order to beat him.

Sans’ endurance in battle is amazing; most would think that the bigger and bulkier you are, the more of a chance that you’ll win in battle. At least, that’s what the Underground’s mindset was. This is why people always underestimated Sans; because he wasn’t bulky, and he most definitely wasn’t a big bad-ass Boss Monster with a huge reputation. If only people saw what his true capabilities were when he needed to dunk a certain demon wreaking havoc to all monsterkind.

Normally, Sans was a lazy skeleton who enjoyed ketchup and making puns all day. But when you take away his most valued and prized possession, you might as well just give up completely. Because that possession was Papyrus, the only family he has left and the only thing he has to live for whilst dealing with his depression.

After a few silent minutes of Papyrus working away and doing his thing, (Y/N)’s eyelids fluttered open. The blood on her face had evaporated into thin air, and the bruise on her forehead had disappeared back into her tan skin. She also noticed that the pain in her spine had gone away, too. Sans breathed a sigh of relief, and sat back onto his heels. Papyrus wiped the sweat beads that formed on his skull away, and looked down at (Y/N).

She groaned softly, and blinked when she saw the two skeletons above her. “What is it with you two making me hit my forehead on stuff?” She chuckled, and bringing a hand up to her hairline. When she brushed it back, Sans smiled at the genius joke that popped into his mind. “i guess papyrus was getting a little a-head of himself.” Sans smiled when his bro glared and reprimanded him.

“I SWEAR TO ASGORE SANS, IF YOU START WITH THAT NONSENSE I’M DISOWNING YOU.” Papyrus mumbled, and (Y/N) giggled. Sans was glad to see that she was already feeling better. “sorry, i didn’t mean to make that as-gorey as it came out. maybe a less bloody joke will help lighten the mood.” Sans chuckled deeply, and his ribs rattled softly. (Y/N) laughed a little louder, and Papyrus shot up immediately.

“THAT’S IT! YOU ARE NO LONGER RELATED TO ME.” Papyrus stormed out of the living room, taking the plate of spaghetti with him. Sans sighed happily, and turned his attention to the clock above the TV. 10:02. “wow, time sure does fly when you’re making puns.” Sans looked back down to (Y/N), who was trying to sit up.

When she let out a cry, Sans’ smile dropped. “hey, take it easy pal. i know paps’ magic is pretty awesome, but that doesn’t mean you should be making any sudden movements so soon.” She grinned sweetly, and nodded. “I thought the phrase was, ‘time flies when you’re having fun’?” Sans raised his non existent eyebrows, and thought to himself. He shrugged, and winked playfully at her.

“it is, but i don’t think that getting injured is much fun. unless to you it is, which i can respect. a bit masochistic, but i’ll accept it.” He said nonchalantly, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes back. “Touche.” She laughed again, and went quiet. She stared down at her clothes, then brought her attention back up to Sans.

“So...am I just gonna lay here until Papyrus’s magic settles, or…?” Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip. The way she looked at that moment with her all messed up and long eyelashes batting slowly towards him made his soul jump unexpectedly. An idea came to his mind, and he thought it would work fine.

“nah. here, lemme help you over to the couch.” Sans leaned over, and curled his arms under (Y/N)’s back. She gulped, and let out a nervous yelp. Sans stood up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck like she had done to Papyrus’s scarf. “S-S-Sans!! What are you doing?!” Her face turned beet red, and the skeleton chuckled. His own cheekbones released a light blue tint, and his eye flared softly.

As he walked her over to the couch, Papyrus peeked from around the corner and saw what was happening. He saw both of their expressions, and smiled devilishly from his spot in the kitchen. He knew something had been off with Sans ever since (Y/N) arrived, and was sure to talk to him about it later in private.

FIRST

PREVIOUS

NEXT

Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are.)

Chapter Twenty (Links for Chapters 11 --> 19)

Chapter Thirty (Links for Chapters 21 --> 29)

[proxylynn]

Dreemurr Academy #1 (FellSwap Papyrus)

Dreemurr Academy, a prestigious closed-off college for monsters and humans alike of all ages and worlds.

This includes myself, though I'm sort of a in-between.

I'm Lynsie, the human anomaly. I'm a human, but I can do magic like monsters. I'm an oddball.

That's the thing about making a school that is open to multiple alternate dimensions. Weird things are bound to show up. Even a bunch of the same person. From what I saw on orientation day, the same faces are scattered around all around.

To fix these type of issues, everyone that has a multiple or doppelganger is given a school name so there's no confusion.

Other than that, it's fairly normal. The hierarchy is the simple.

The Deans are made up of the same people, skeleton monsters that go by the name of Gaster. One is a teacher of the Sciences, goes by Wingding. He's a kind and understanding man, but is known to pull a prank or two. They all speak in a typeface sign language but use telepathy magic so others understand. It's been said no one has ever heard their real voices and those that have are no longer at the academy.

Another Gaster dean teaches Home Economics, he goes by Wingy. He's a bubbly sweet guy that loves his work. Nothing makes him smile more than seeing the joy on a student's face when they take pride in being able to do something they first thought they couldn't.

Another Gaster dean teaches the studies of Magic, he is called Fall. At times, he can be cynical, malicious, and sarcastic. He has a commanding presence that exuded gravitas, authority and control, able to keep a class quiet without effort. Yet there is a kindness to him, it's rarely seen, but not unheard of.

Another Gaster dean teaches History, his nickname is Dings. A cold, bitter, and sometimes childish man. He tends to hold grudges against troublesome students and is extremely spiteful toward those whom he dislikes. Yet those that can take his punishments are rewarded with his respect. He is a teacher that commands respect and who's grades are earned with doom hanging over your head.

The Professors are also skeleton monsters, but not all are the same person. The Psychology professor is a guy named Papyrus but goes by Stretch. He's the favorite among students because he's so laid back. He chews a tooth pick in class to suppress his urge to smoke, but we all know he does so when on break. He's really good at reading students and helps out when able. All in all, he's the cool teacher.

The Literature professor is a Papyrus that is called Fell. He is the one teacher everyone dreads. Very strict and old fashioned. He does not tolerate interruptions and will humiliate those he feel need to be taken down a notch. Such things take there toll on him and often squeezes a stress ball that he keeps in his desk. But he is a very passionate man when it comes to his work and takes his subject seriously, even though this makes him into a bit of a grammar nazi which is why many students get low grades.

The Biology professor is a skeleton called Sans that sometimes goes by Classic, whatever that means. He is very cheesy and comes off as lazy, making puns that have people cringe yet secretly love them. He is very protective of his students and will go out of his way to help them. He does not tolerate bulling of any kind and can be quite scary. He's the second favorite among the students.

The Physical Education professor is also a Sans that goes by Pain. He is also a stern and old school type of teacher, only he tends to be more cruel in humiliation of students that are unprepared. While his scope is all around, he prefers the darker side of the study. Using borderline violence to weed out the weak that think taking his class is a easy A. There is mercy in his dojo, but it must be earned with blood, sweat, and tears.

The Students are broken into four groups based on which part of the four years they are currently in. The first years are called freshmen. Second years are sophomores. Third years are juniors. And fourth years are seniors. There are some variations on this topic, but this hierarchy of college students is still readily recognizable by everyone.

Me? This isn't my first rodeo but not my last. I'm a sophomore and have gotten the gist of who's who and what's what. I get along with students and teachers. I've always been a middle ground type of girl.

I didn't come looking for friends, but they just seemed to find me. Funny enough, my buddies are the brothers of the professors. Stretch's brother is a freshman, his name is Sans but goes by Rascal. Fell's brother, also a Sans, is a sophomore like me and goes by Edgy. Classic's brother is a Papyrus, a freshman that goes by Papy. And Pain's brother is a sophomore Papyrus by the name of Slim.

I've always been a tomboy. I prefer the guys company. They're different and fun, even if they can be a bit odd sometimes.

Rascal, as the nickname implies, is the school clown/prankster. He likes to test his limits and challenge authority, even dishevels his uniform to assert his individuality. He comes off as a slacker, but secretly very deep, clever, and loyal to a fault. He likes taking his brother's class so he can improve his skills with messing with people, mostly his brother as he disrupts his teachings when he sees a chance.

Edgy is shy around new people and slow to open up, enjoying a laugh with friends when able. Though he appears weak or even nerdy because of his glasses, he is far more tougher than he leads on. He doesn't take crap from anyone. When alone, he's angsty and borders on straight up angry. Getting a pissy attitude when annoyed. Like his brother, he is very passionate about literature and does his best to impress his brother, going so far as to become the teacher's pet.

Papy is easily the most loveable guy in the whole school. Very cheerful and optimistic, he tries his best no matter what. He doesn't like conflict and tries to keep his brother out of trouble when the teacher pulls a prank. I find it sweet of him to take his brother's class even though he doesn't particularly enjoy it, just so he can stay close to him. Like I said, this guy is a loveable soul.

Slim is easy going. He doesn't take things too seriously and never breaks a sweat over hard exams. The only thing that breaks his cool is his smoking, he really gets tense if he goes too long without his fix. He's incredibly smart and instinctual, good traits to have when dealing with his brother. While he does attend his brother's class, he merely does so as a request of his brother who likes to make sure he doesn't slack off due to not being challenged enough.

All of them are oddly related to each other in some form. Gaster's, Papyrus's, and Sans's are brothers. Yet I see them all as different people. I value them. They're helping me even if they don't know it. I am not so confident in myself. I tend to isolate myself, go at things lone wolf style. It's how I've always been. Then I met them and slowly my world began to expand bit by bit. I'm still not comfortable with others. But with them, I can step out from behind my mask for a bit, and really be myself around them.

Today is a typical day. Classes have so far been good. Again, knowing how to get by and being ready for them helps big time. Right now it's lunch break and as normal, I eat on the roof, away from others. I found a way to get up here not long into my first year and I treat it as my personal escape. My island in a sea of uniformed faces. I don't really care for the uniforms. Girls have to wear skirts, I hate it because of perverts taking up-skirt pics.

Finishing my sandwich and sipping on a soda, I look up at the sky. The wind is blowing gently but dark clouds are moving in fast.

"It's going to rain today."

"you know what that means, don't you?"

Slim sparks up a smoke as he comes through the door. He and a few of the others know about this spot.

"Yeah. In-door P.E...You think your little bro will do swimming and not that shitty rope thing or doge ball?"

"*puff* don't know. but you know him. he likes to make others squirm."

"That's true."

He comes over and sits beside me.

"though i know i wouldn't mind if we did swimming."

"Why?"

"to see the girls in their swimsuits of course."

"Heheh...Why am I not surprised you'd say that, naughty bones."

"because you get to check me out too, silly sinner."

We share a lighthearted laugh. Out of the four of them, I'm most open with Slim. His nonjudgmental calm attitude puts out a safe vibe that has me like a book he can easily scroll through and I'd know he wouldn't share it's contents. I value how he is with me and it means a lot that he lets me do the same.

"Can I ask a personal question?"

"what about?"

"What got you into smoking?"

He looks at me funny.

"why?"

"Just curious. I understand the chemical reason for why you keep smoking. But I don't get what makes someone start."

"am i the first person you knew that smoked?"

"Nope. Most my family does. But you are the first person I've known with a real gold fangs. Edgy is second with only one."

"heh...and you never tried smoking yourself?"

"Never. That goes for any drugs or booze too."

"man...you're really clean cut. *puff* but if you want...i can bum you one to try."

"Heh...Nah man. I'm cool."

"that you are. *puff* i don't remember why i started. wish i had a better vice than this...like you."

"What do you mean?"

He looks surprised, a small hint of color dust his cheekbones and he waves me off.

"nothing."

What was that about?

"can i ask you a personal question or two?"

"Sure."

"first...why do you try so hard in my big bro's class?"

"I don't. Why?"

"you're his favorite student. i hear him at home when he's grading papers...*puff* what is wrong with these morons?! why aren't they half as smart as lynsie?! i need more students like lynsie!"

I snicker.

"Please, I'm not that smart. You're way smarter than me. He just likes the detail I give. Remember when he had me explain what the difference between a judas cradle and a spanish donkey was?"

"heheh...yeah. you made six people puke and he kicked them out of class for not having the stomach to handle the gory truth."

"Yep...Bad luck for them it was pasta day in the cafeteria. Bet the janitor would hate me if he knew."

He laughs and takes another huff of smoke.

"So...What was the other question?"

"huh? oh...right. so...me and the guys were wondering something. *puff* are you seeing anyone?"

I nearly choke on my soda.

"Dude...For real?"

"we pulled straws to see who would come find you to ask. luckily you only go to one place and i can smoke here."

"Wow...And we're talking the gang here? All four of you guys?"

"i can't speak for everyone. well papy is still unsure, but he wouldn't mind going on a date to see what it's like. *puff* but me? ...can i try something?"

"Sure man. I trust you."

He slowly puts his hand on mine and tingles shiver up my spine.

"Whoa..."

"what? you felt something?"

"Is that normal?"

He blushes and his eyes seem to hold more life than his normal lethargy. Is this a good thing?

"yeah...just...*takes one last long drag then puts his cigarette out* let me do one more thing."

He brings his other hand up to move some hair from my face and cups the back of my head, slowly pulling me closer as he leans in, making me blush deeply when we kiss, sending more tingles into me.

My eyes flutter as he lingers, even with my mouth closed I can taste him, smoke mixed with a hint of barbecue sauce, weird yet oddly good, he pulls away just a couple inches and licks his teeth cooly.

"did you feel anything from that?"

He kissed me? He really kisses me? My brain can't process this.

"Uh-huh..."

"was it good?"

"I...I think so..."

"...was that...was that your first kiss?"

"N-no. I kissed before. I think I was...seven or eight? It's just...This...It's different. It...That had feeling."

He looks me in the eyes and smiles as he presses his forehead to mine.

"god you're cute when flustered."

"Don't tease me bonehead!"

"or you'll what?"

I shrug.

"Don't know. I got nothing."

"heh...adorable."

"Don't do that."

"do what?"

"You're treating me different. Stop it."

"so you'd treat me the same even if you liked me?"

"Yeah. Sure, I'd show a bit more affection than I normally do, but I wouldn't change everything just to win you over. I'd want you to want me for me."

"lynsie...i want you."

He claims my lips again, only rougher, and when I move to push him for breath he breaks away on his own when it starts to drip from the sky. Still holding my hand, he pulls me back into the building and once we're inside he shoves me against the door.

"S-slim?"

"don't be scared. i just want to be with you a little longer before we head back."

"Sorry. I'm not used to this kind of thing."

"used to what? a guy wanting you?"

"Pretty much, yes."

"...you make it really hard not to want you when your innocence screams 'oh papyrus, take me now, i need you and your loving'."

I can't help the giggles that escape me.

"I'm sorry...But that's funny as fuck..."

"okay, i get it. you're not interested in me."

"Hey! I never said that."

He eyes me.

"so...i have a shot?"

I blush.

"You and the guys have a better shot than anyone else here."

"then...if i were to, oh i don't know...ask you out?"

"I'd be fine with that."

"yes!"

He laughs in victory.

"then how about you and me get together, oh, let's say...after school today?"

"Heh...You really want this, huh?"

"i've wanted you since last year."

"What made you come out like this then? I mean, you didn't really seem interested in me like that before."

"i didn't think i'd have competition. it was just you, me, and edgy. he, to me, didn't seem like he was interested in dating. my plan was that i was going to slowly woo you. then rascal and papy joined the mix. while papy is as innocent as you, rascal on the other hand...he's the troublemaker in this. instigating the others to try for you. and hearing them talk about planning on asking you out...hell, a guy's gotta make an effort when he needs to, you know?"

I can't help but smile.

"Now who's the adorable one?"

"what?"

"You got jealous."

"...i am not jealous."

"No, but you got worried that one of them would get to me before you. That's cute of you to care that much."

He blushes and looks at me as if I've smacked him.

"Slim? You okay?"

I bring a hand to his face in concerned comfort and the second skin touches bone his eyes flash blood orange.

Next thing I know, I'm now on the wall next to the door, pinned there in the strong embrace of his arms and body pressing into me, his mouth smothering mine in a heated kiss, even snaking his tongue in when I gasp for air.

His hands, one is kneading into my spine while the other laces itself into my hair, his ribs are pressed hard to my chest and one of his legs mingles between mine, slowly rubbing them together, making me feel weird yet slightly good from all the tingles swarming my body.

"mmmmmm...you taste so sweet.~"

"Slim..."

"too much? do you want me to stop?"

He flinches when I put my arms around him.

"Slim...This feels really nice."

He breathes a sigh of relief.

"oh thank god...i thought i fucked up."

"You okay though? You're really flushed and wa-! *sheepish laugh* Getting eager there huh?"

He had pressed his hip to my own.

"sorry. i've just wanted this for so long. *shudders* look at that...we fit together."

"Careful naughty bones. You don't want to get caught now, do you?"

"actually...that's kind of turning me on~. besides..."

He leans into my ear and nibbles it lightly.

"who's going to bust us~?"

"There's not a lot of time before the bell rings."

"then maybe we shouldn't waste anymore time~."

He kisses his way down my neck, licking and nipping at the skin, making me shudder much to his delight.

"spread your legs for me baby~."

I flinch.

"Y-you can't be serious? Here? Now? We just started this relationship thingy."

"shhhhh...it's okay. i won't rush you. i just thought i'd give my girl a good time~. but...nothing would make me happier than to hear you bliss out and say my name. *humps* over...*humps* and over...*humps* and over...*humps* and over again~."

The way he moves his body against mine has my head lulling back and he knows he has me now.

"so lynise...do you want to have a good time with me~?"

"Fuck Slim...*lip bite* Why do you have to be so damn tempting?"

"heh...well you know what they say...patience and persistence make an unbeatable combination for success."

"Damn it smartass..."

"yes~?"

"...Not here. Outside."

"in the rain?"

"It'll take the scent off and make it less suspicious as to why we'd look like a mess."

He looks at me in shock.

"that...makes sense."

"One of us has to think ahead and not with their boner."

"...i'd laugh if i wasn't holding back taking you right here."

"Get to walking numbskull. Before I change my mind."

He grins excitedly and can't open the door fast enough, ushering me out into the now pouring storm before returning to me. He loosens his shirt collar and tie then kisses me deeply, pulling me to him.

"to be honest, i didn’t think you wanna do this. what with, you know...me, being a skeleton and all."

"*sigh* Slim, I could care less if you're a skeleton. Hell, in all honesty that increases your odds. I'm not interested in other humans."

"really?"

"Yeah. I've never seen monsters in the same way as humans. Monsters are just so...What's the word...Enticing? But in your case...Dude...I've seen girls check you out. You are a fine set of bones."

"awww...you flatterer."

"No. I mean it. Any girl would be lucky to land a catch like you. You're smart, funny, handsome..."

He cuts me off with sudden hungry kiss.

"only you can have me babe. i want only you."

"...Damn you and your alluring skeletal ways!"

I pull his tie and kiss him back much to his surprise. But he is quick to keep it going, adding tongue and earning him a slight moan from me.

"now aren’t you all excited and ready. heh...well little missy...shall we get to it then?"

"You're getting off on this aren't you?"

"you have no idea~."

He chuckles before kissing me again. Moving to feel along my body, taking in every curve and enjoying the sounds he's able to pull out of me.

"mmmmmm~. *huffs* here, let me just..."

He moves me so my back is on the wall and he unzips his pants. Freeing his blood orange magical erection. My jaw nearly snaps off. Dude...Is...Huge!

"there, much better. *snickers* hmmm you look surprised."

"Dude...You are going to break me."

He seems proud of my words and leans in on one arm over me.

"i promise to be gentle babe. i'd never hurt you. *kiss* now...spread your legs a bit."

This feels so weird, but I do as requested.

"yeah...good girl."

"You really are getting off on thi-Shit!"

His free hand has wandered down between my legs and rubs into my underwear before letting a finger slip under the fabric to touch me. My reaction earning him satisfaction.

"oooh, you're really wet down there~. seems i'm not the only one getting off on this."

"M-maybe a little."

"heh...such a silly sinner you are."

He brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks on the finger that touched me with a shit eating grin.

"and a tasty one too~."

I almost pass out from the amount of blood rushing to my face. But he keeps me stable with his kiss. His gentleness and soft touches lull me under his spell. His fingers return to teasing me down there and I mewl.

"o...you like that? then what if i...press...a little...deeper...*penetrates* how...does this...fe-ohhh...hoooo wow...squeezing on me already? such a naughty girl you are~."

He chuckles and buries his face into my hair as I shudder against him.

"S-slim...fuck man...It's so good...Slim..."

"hhnmm your voice is so sexy...ghnn...let me see those lips. *hungrily kisses while he touches me*"

"*moans into the kiss* You drive me crazy..."

"heh...is that a bed thing?"

"Not one bit."

"hehehe...mmmm...i'm gonna slip another finger inside...okay?"

"O-okay. *sharp gasps into a low moan*"

"hmm...ahhh that's my baby...hhnmm i could listen to you sing all day..."

I get a little bold and reach down to touch him.

"*gasp* l-lynsie?"

"I'm sorry. I just thought..."

"n-no...just wasn't expecting you to do it. please...keep going~."

I smile and grant his wish, making him keen. Now I see why he was enjoying this so much. This sense of control and feeling of pride, knowing you are the one that is making this person feel pleasure...It's sexy...He rocks into my hand, tongue starting to dangle out as the pleasure floods him.

"ffffuck...h-have you done t-this before?"

"First time."

"s-scored the fucking j-jackpot with you...gonna move my hand a little faster babe...gotta get you on my level haha...ghhn...ahhh o-oh...*speeds up his fingers*"

"Oooooh...Slim...Aaah-aaah-oooh...Yes...Yes..."

"oooo...haha, mmmm you're likin' that a lot, huh?"

"Yes...Fuck yes...It's so good...You're amazing!"

"hmmmm...that's my baby...my sweet baby doll...ooooh...your legs are shaking...hhnmm...you're gettin' clooooseee...*deep groan*"

He removes his fingers from me and I whine desperately at the loss of contact. But he just snickers at me and removes my hand from his length with a hiss. After all that stimulation we need more and he gets kind of aggressive.

"alright kitten, arch your back."

"What?"

"lift your hips...now."

I move as he tells me and he reaches down, one hand hold's his member while the other moves my underwear out of the way. Taking aim, he pressed it to me, moving the tip to stir in my juices and gets it slick before slowly pushing the tip inside.

"yeah, that's it...that's my girl. i'm sliding right in."

"Slim..."

"no! use my name. my real name."

"Papyrus."

He shudders hard before lifting me off the ground, pinning me to the wall and shoving the rest of his length inside, making me grip onto him tightly, my legs pretzel around his hip, as a wincing moan of pain escapes me.

"*groans* oooooh, yeah~. there you go...all of me is yours now~. *moans* mmmmmm...so tight and warm~. i didn't hurt you did i?"

"*whimpers* So big...H-how are fitting in there?"

"...are you...were you...a virgin?"

"The word 'was' being the...*hiss* operative word..."

He frowns and nuzzles into my cheek.

"this really is your first time...i'm sorry baby. let me make the pain go away."

He peppers me with soft kisses and nuzzles, doing his best to sooth me. Slowly his care starts to work its magic. Mostly because he is using magic to add a little healing into his actions.

"how you feeling now sweetie?"

"Better. Still sore..."

"it'll get better, i promise."

"Okay...*shaky breathes* Y-you can move."

"are you sure?"

"Yeah...*gulp* Let's do this...Papyrus."

Saying his name gives him the push he needs to start moving, slowly easing himself out to the tip and pushing back in as careful as he can. The pain lingers for a bit, then it gives way to all sorts of good feelings. The tingling sparks that come from just touching him flood me till all I know is pleasure. And seeing me enjoy him lets him know he can go faster. Letting himself give in to the ecstasy of it all.

"s-such a g-good girl...m-my girl...*moaning* oh yeah, there ya go...oooooh...there ya go, you like that huh~?"

"*groaning* P-papyrus...I'm y-yours...Yes...Yes, don't stop~."

I try rocking my hips in his grip and he thrusts into it, increasing our moaning.

"oh yeah...oh, there ya go...there's my baby! oh, oh yeah, you're so beautiful, you're so great!"

"Yes...Oh Papyrus...It's so good! Take me! I need it! Harder! More please!"

"oh yeah...come on lynsie...you can moan better..."

He thrusts particularly hard and I almost scream.

"there ya go, ah, there ya-ah god! oooh...oh...oooh lynsie..."

"P-papyrus...So hard...So tight...So hot...Oooooh...Ah...Aahh..."

My stomach is tightening and I can feel him starting to twitch inside me, his thrusting getting crazy.

"Sl-P-papyrus...Getting tighter...It hurts..."

"oh yeah? my baby's getting close?"

"I need you~!"

"beg for me...beg me to help you cum~."

"*needy whimpers* Papyrus..."

"yes~?"

"Baby needs you to help her feel good~."

"hi want you to cum for me lynsie...hhhnn...i wanna hear you cry out...cry out my name as you let go..."

He shudders a moan and steals my breath in a mind blowing kiss. His hips start slamming into me at a hectic speed, wanting to take me over the edge and finish with him.

"lynsie...are you ready huh? are you fucking ready?!"

"Yes Papyrus! Yes please! *groans* Please give it to me!"

"*moans* there ya go, good girl!"

I can feel it, this tightness is just about to snap. My arms and legs are practically crushing around him. My sight blurs out and everything clenches up.

"Papyrus...I think...Aah! I'm about to..."

"ayeah...let me hear that hot release...cum for me baby..."

"A-Aahhnn...Ooh f-fuck yeesss...yeah...Ohnn...mnhnn...Ahhhn..."

"o-oh, oh god! oh god, i'm gonna...i'm gonna, i'm gonna cum!"

"Aaahh...Papyrus! ! Aaahhnn ahhhh...ooohh...ooohhhh y-yeeaahhh...Ahhhhnn..."

He bites down hard on the crook of my neck with a yell of my name and pounds into me as climax hits us both. The tightness undoes as fluid gushes from me and mixes with the hot load of liquid magic that is sent flooding into my core. He keeps moving for a little bit, small sallow thrusts to ride out our duel release and makes sure every drop was milked into my body.

Weakly, he pulls his mouth from my neck and I wince at the feeling of his sharp teeth leaving my bloody flesh. Gently he laps at the blood, his tongue coating the wound in healing magic to stop the bleeding and sooth the pain.

"ahn, yeah...so g-good...i c-came inside...you're such a good girl...oh god i'm s-still c-cumming!"

"Heh...P-poor baby...You have so much l-love to give...Mmmm...Give me all of it...It feels so good~."

"hehehe...careful babe. if you keep takin' sexy like that, i might just start this party again."

"Mmmm...I wouldn't mid if you did~."

Still connected, he chuckles as he waits till he's done emptying his load. Slowly we recover, the panting we were doing eventually returning to normal before he sets me back down on my shaky legs and rubs my cheeks tenderly, making me purr with a smile.

"oh yeah, you're my girl alright. and you always will be..."

He tilts my neck and kisses the bite mark he made.

"my sweet treat~."

I giggle as he pulls out. The magic making up his member fades away and he zips his pants up as I fix my underwear.

"Sweet treat huh? Maybe I can replace your cigarettes as your new craving."

"oh, you know i'll be wanting more. in fact...i might need a fix after our date~."

"Careful dear, you don't want to rot your teeth on all this sugar."

"heh...be worth it though."

I giggle as the bell rings.

"Damn. Well...Back to class we go."

"not yet."

"But Papyrus..."

He shuts me up with a kiss and pulls the band from my hair, letting it fall freely.

"can't have people seeing that mark...not yet at least."

"Fair enough."

I straighten his shirt and tie much to his content.

"Ready to go, my bone-friend?"

"heh...sure thing, my babe."

He starts walking and I follow.

"i'm keeping this hair tie."

"But it's mine."

"all the more reason to keep it. it belongs to my girl."

"Awww."

He rests his arm around my shoulders as we head back inside. Each step was a squishy fart joke that has us laughing. We were a odd sight, but who cares. We had each other. And being in love beats looking normal any day.

However, upon getting to our next class, well...

"THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU TWO? WHY ARE YOU BOTH SOAKED?!"

No way we're talking about what happened on the roof.

"Sorry sir, it's all my fault. I got upset earlier and Slim here followed me to the roof. That's when the door jammed and well...Long story short, stuck in the rain and took forever to get back in the building. Please, forgive us."

Slim is surprised I'd take the blame here and already have a cover story. His younger brother, Pain the P.E. teacher on the other hand, is suspicious but can't really pinpoint as to why.

"FINE. BUT SINCE YOU TWO ARE THREE MINUTES PASS BELL CALL...YOU'LL BE PARTICIPATING IN CLASS AS YOU ARE. NO CHANGING OUT YOUR UNIFORMS.

We both groan in annoyance.

"Are you for real right now?"

"hang on...what in-door activity are you having us do?"

Pain gives us a crooked smile.

"WHY...THE GAUNTLET OF COURSE."

The gym is filled with groans. The gauntlet is a grueling obstacle course that is made up of five parts. First is a series of hurdles, some you jump over and others you duck under. Then there's the stepping stones, small but heavy stumps that one must jump across without fail. Next is the warped wall, a large wall we have to run up in order to get over. The rope climb is next, reach the top and ring the bell to continue. Lastly there's the balancing barrage, it's basically a balance beam that's about five feet high and you have to cross it while avoiding Pain who throws dodge balls at you. And if at any point you mess up, you have to start all over again from the beginning.

This would be bad enough on its own. But when you add wet clothing that weighs you down and the fact I'm in a fucking skirt...Well that's a new level of hell all by itself.

So far I'm doing fine. The gauntlet is pretty easy for me except for the rope climb. I have weak upper body strength, so the rope really kills my time when I try to speed run. But again...I'm climbing up a rope in a skirt...and I'm soaking wet. Guess what happens next.

"*wolf whistles* Nice view!"

"Best P.E. ever!"

"*snarls* Piss off perverts!"

"Hey, swing around more!"

"Yeah! Work it girl!"

"*growls* I swear to god, I will fucking end...you...?"

I trail off at the sight I see approaching the small group of boys. Slim is not happy. Even from as high as I am, I can see the blood orange glow of his glaring eyes. All I can do is watch.

"hey, fuck wads..."

In the blink of a eye, the first boy to turn around, a monster named Aaron, is punched square in the jaw and is sent flying.

"PAPYRUS!"

Slim ignores his brother.

"lynsie...come here."

His voice is dark and spine chilling...I obey without question. Dropping down to stand by him, he grabs me harshly and kisses me just as rough, enough to draw blood when he bites my lip.

"this is mine. *shows the bite mark on my neck* if anyone messes with my girl, you're gonna have a very fucked up time."

Ignoring the stares coming our way, I'm stunned at this level of possessiveness Slim has. It's actually kind of a turn on to know how much he values me as his. This warms my heart to no end.

"YOU, GO TO THE NURSE'S OFFICE. AND YOU TWO...MY OFFICE. NOW! AS FOR THE REST OF YOU, WHO TOLD YOU TO STOP? KEEP RUNNING THE COURSE AND DON'T STOP TILL I SAY SO!"

The class groans as Pain takes Slim and me to his office. And he is not happy.

"SO...MIND EXPLAINING WHAT THE HELL THAT WAS ALL ABOUT?"

"i said my piece already."

I feel so awkward. I want to defend Slim, but I'm afraid if I speak I'll say something that will only mess things up more.

"WELL? LAST CHANCE."

We don't say a word.

"*sigh* OKAY...DROPPING THE TEACHER THING. HONESTLY I COULDN'T GIVE A CRAP ABOUT YOU HITTING SOME LITTLE SHIT. FRANKLY, ALL THOSE PRICKS HAVE IT COMING TO THEM. THERE'S ONLY SO MANY TIMES YOU CAN WRITE UP IDIOTS FOR HARASSMENT BEFORE SOMEONE SNAPS."

This has us eye him and listen to what he has to say.

"SO WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY, NOW KNOWING THAT YOU'RE NOT IN TROUBLE FOR THAT...ARE EITHER OF YOU WILLING TO ANSWER ONE QUESTION FOR ME?"

"that depends."

"What's the question?"

"HOW LONG HAS 'THIS' BEEN A THING?"

I blush but Slim seems proud and smirks.

"what ever do you mean, bro?"

"DON'T PLAY STUPID PAPYRUS. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MARK MEANS. DID YOU EVEN EXPLAIN THAT TO HER? BECAUSE JUDGING BY THE EXPRESSION ON HER FACE, YOU HAVEN'T."

Now I'm worried.

"it means she's mine."

"YES, IT DOES...AS YOUR MATE."

I pale like ghost and Slim blushes in shock as Pain smacks his forehead.

"w-what?"

"Wait...Does this mean we're married?!"

"I FUCKING KNEW IT. THIS IS THE REASON I KEEP TRYING TO PUSH THE SEXUAL EDUCATION LESSONS TO THE START OF THE YEAR. TO PREVENT STUPID SHIT LIKE THIS FROM HAPPENING. LUCKILY, THERE IS A WAY TO REVERSE THIS."

Pain gets up from behind his desk and heads for the door.

"NO ONE IS GOING TO MAKE EITHER OF YOU DO ANYTHING. THE CHOICE IS YOURS TO MAKE. I'LL LET YOU DISCUSS THIS AMONGST EACH OTHER BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE IS DONE."

He leaves the room and we look at one another.

"lynsie...i am so sorry. i didn't mean to..."

"Slim...Do you regret this? Us?"

His eye sockets widen.

"no! how could i?"

"Then don't apologize. It's insulting."

"then...you're okay with this?"

"Honestly...I'm confused as hell. But...Isn't life always confusing? It's what makes things interesting. Trying to figure shit out. Maybe with someone else by your side, you know?"

"baby..."

"I mean, we've already decided to enter a relationship. I wouldn't mind keeping this if it keeps others away so we can focus on us."

"for real? you really mean it?"

"I gave you my virginity. If you think you can get rid of me so easily, you got another thing coming."

"get rid of you? i wouldn't dream of it. my... babe."

"come here, my bone-friend."

I pull him into a warm loving hug and he nuzzles sweetly into my neck.

"Papyrus..."

"yeah?"

"I...I love you."

His hold on me tightens.

"i love you too lynsie. now and forever."

Life at school since then has been interesting to say the least. We decide to keep the mark but not let it control how we handle the relationship, treating it like how you would a promise ring. Despite how we started this, we take things slow and build up a foundation for a proper relationship. Even if our families think we're nuts and irresponsible as hell.

Slim as a boyfriend is a handful sometimes. He seems to really get off on public displays of overly affectionate actions, going so far as to get us in trouble a several times due to "graphic displays of a mature nature" or so we were told. I guess that's what the term for loudly dry humping is on paper.

Either way, we couldn't be happier.

[dimenovelsfromoblivion]

The Collective

As inhospitable as the desert can be the parched, arid lands are ideal for preserving the ancient cities built in the early days of civilization. These mostly abandoned settlements were scattered across the landscape quietly being buried in the sand.

Still, there were some cities, archaic remnants of ancient kingdoms that had long since vanished, but life went on even as the old dynasties crumbled back into the enteral sand and the people settled around the ancient walls for hundreds of generations went about existence much the same as their vanquished ancestors. These places although mostly forgotten these forerunners of civilization existed alongside the electrified concrete and steel megalopolis that had come into existence in the final terminal stages of human-settled life.

Just as in previous epochs this seemingly worthless place was where empires fought life and death struggles.  Just like the innumerable men of arms who were sent here to pacify these lands over they millenniums Corporal Keller of the US Marines couldn’t comprehend exactly what it was that kept drawing the armies of the world back to this same desolate place.

Keller and his unit had spent the last few days watching drones and bombers, the latest and greatest in hi-tech siege weaponry blast the prehistoric city to rubble. Now it was time for the grunts to go in and blow away anyone that survived the barrage.

The helicopters hovering overhead stirred up the sand into a storm. The air was saturated with the grainy particles that stung at the eyes and skin, but it was at least a mild morning. The desert dew still gleamed in the morning sun and a place white moon lingered in the bright morning sky. The Marines moved cautiously but kept up the pace. Today it was Corporal Kellers turn to be the point man, which meant first one inside, first one to take any fire.

The young soldier and his company had surrounded a courtyard. He was hugging the corner wall at the entrance when the signal was given. Flash grenades were tossed into the open space, and the soldiers quickly moved in. They only ran into each other though. The courtyard was empty.

“Clear,” Keller radioed in.

Keller felt something tap on his shoulder. There was a spot of blood soaking into his uniform.

“What the fuck?”

He looked up corpses were hanging from hastily constructed rafters above their heads in various stages of decay and dismemberment. The helicopters had scared away the scavaging birds, but it was easy to see on the soft decomposing flesh where they opportunistic animals had been feeding.

Keller felt queazy he called it in. “We got bodies hanging here.”

There was the sound of something stirring behind the walls and the jolted Marines raised their weapons. Keller looked at the west and could see two deep red circles. He moved closer and brushed away the sand. It was a drawing of a woman with a plump body and what looked like iron wings. She wore some kind of ceremonial headdress, and her bird-like feet had large sharp talons.

“What the fuck is this?” Keller muttered.

“RPG!” Startled Keller looked up and saw a rocket flying down from the top of the wall, then an abrupted impenetrable blackness.

James jolted awake in his chair. A layer of sweat covered his waxy skin, and he had to catch his breath. “Holy shit,” he cracked as he reached for a nearby glass of water.

The foundation of a collective unconscious is the transcription of memory into the biomolecular structure of the human being. Evolution is by and large a process of trial and error the psyche is where the experiences of our predecessors echo across the gulf of time adding to the notional sum of existence. One of the ways it manifests is through instinct, an innate reaction a sentient being has to a situation it may have never encountered. The enigmatic process is one that straddles the line between the rational and the mystic. It was a painstaking process limited by the crawling pace of evolution.

Legions of faceless specialists directed by an institutionalized disdain for the natural order were activated to construct a more valuable and efficient model for the collective unconvinced. Their nanotech monster was decentralized and of course, data-driven. The microscopic machine was a synthetic virus that transformed sentient human beings into data banks of human memories. The natural incubator for this emergent intelligence was the military, where of course psychological programming is a paramount concern. Unwitting soldiers were merged into a micro-collective conscience. Their experiences of war could now be shared through a real-time data stream. Minature machines bound their minds together and turned their most horrific memories of war into shared experiences.

Retired Major James Fullerton had no inkling of this grand design or his place in its growing web of consciousness. Neither did the doctor who pointed to the small innocuous shadow on the translucent gray and white image of his brain.

“We don’t know if it’s a tumor, but it’s not operatable. I’m sorry, but all we can do is wait and see.” The doctor informed him in his professional but compassionate manner.

Daniel Princip, a friend from his unit, was given a similar prognosis barely six months ago and now he was dead. Granted it was a bullet from his service pistol that released him from his mortal coil and not any sort of cancer or degenerative neural disease, but James knew, and Daniel must have been somewhat aware that the mysterious blemish on his neural tissue was an omen of doom.

James and Daniel were both combat veterans who became friends while witnessing some of the darkest and most blood-soaked excesses of modern war. When they heard the sanitized euphemism for a massacre, their minds conjured up scenes of crushed and mangled bodies. They had both seen mothers carrying the dismembered remains of their children after a “surgical strike” or families wallowing over bloated fly-covered corpses of fathers and sons killed in “counter-insurgency” raids. Despite this, they managed to integrate back into society and keep isolated the contagion of violence that infected their souls.

James was divorced, but amicably so. He had two daughters in college and had enjoyed years of success as a financial consultant. Daniel hadn’t fared so poorly either. He was a lawyer and confirmed lifetime bachelor. The experience of war instilled in him a sense of just how indifferent the universe is and the inevitability of tragedy and undercut any desire or incentive for him to have a family.

Whatever was consuming Daniel from within worked quickly. His body withered away from his bones, and his colorless eyes sank into his gaunt face. He endured every test and consulted every specialist, but there was no conclusive answer. When he told them about the dreams, they suspected his ailment was purely psychological. He was just another soldier being ravaged by the malignant trauma that had been planted in his brain like a ticking time bomb from his service days.

“I keep having these like flashbacks only it doesn't feel like their mine. It feels like I'm in someone else's body watching what they’re watching,” James said with a faraway look in his eyes.

James was intimately familiar with the terror the twin specters of regret and shame could unleash upon their victims gave a sympathetic and understanding nod.

“It’s like watching a movie, and I know something terrible is about to happen but no matter what I can’t stop it. It’s like being a voice screaming inside that kid’s head, but he couldn’t hear me.”

“Boy?” James repeated.

Daniel nodded. “Yeah, his name was Lance Corporal Thomas Johnson that’s who I am a lot of times,” Daniel said before taking a sip of coffee. “At least that’s what the other guys call me. Poor kid, he’s on his second deployment, and his mom’s just been diagnosed with cancer,” Daniel said matter of factly.

When Daniel gave those strangely specific details, Jame’s felt his stomach tie into knots and swell up into his throat. “Huh, that’s kinda weird,” he replied casually.

These visions always a rare occurrence were now steadily commandeering his subconscious. His sleep was now drowning out from the incursions of these living nightmares just like what happened to Daniel. He wasn’t sure how but James knew it was this smudge on the MRI that was the source of these aberrations of war.

The sleep-deprived James was retracted back in his recliner dulling his senses in the ultraviolet lite of the tv mounted on the wall. He absently cycled through the televisions line up, which at this time of night was mostly infomercials. He finally gave up the futile search for entertainment and settled on one of the many twenty four hour news networks.

The screen was bifurcated between an attractive blond news anchor and repeating B-roll footage of a middle eastern battlezone, by now a familiar television backdrop.

The blonde was listening attentively, indicated by the occasional nod to the static voice of field reporter who was summing up all the action that had apparently just happened a few hours ago.

“Around 8:15 this morning the Marines declared the city liberated,” the faceless voice explained while footage of marines putting in a battering ram through and a tank firing a round into a building played in the background.

“The city has been liberated,” the anchor confirmed “but we’re being told combat operations are still ongoing. Why is that?”

There was a short delay between the question and answer while a new loop of battlefield footage started to play.

“Yes, that’s true. Marine units are still engaged in mop-op operations in and around the city. While the military is in control of all municipal and administrative buildings, there are still some terrorist strongholds scattered around, but the military spokesman we talked to says they’ll be clear before the day is out.”

The talking heads on the screen started to sound further and further away until their banter became obscure mumbling. James passively watched the medley of battle and sank deeper into his chair. Whether he wanted it or not he was slowly slipping back into sleep. His eyes fluttered, and his jaw slacked. His head gradually fell back, and the room started to fade away. He was on the edge of sleep when a scene on TV jolted him awake.

It was the courtyard from his dream. The dangling bodies had been taken down and the gangrenous limbs removed but James still recognized the scenery even after it had been thoroughly satisfied. On the west wall was the same etching of the plumb winged woman with crimson eyes.

The ringing doorbell startled James.

“Who the hell could that be?” he muttered. Deciding to ignore the door James picked back up the remote and started flipping around again but whoever had come calling was persistent. The doorbell rang another three times in quick succession.

“Jesus fuckin christ alright,” James snarled.

The ringing continued as he made his way to the door. “Alright alright!” James Hollard.

He looked through the peephole and saw a man probably in his mid to late twenties in rain-soaked clothes with shaggy hair and a beard. James kept the chain lock on the door.

“Can I help you?” He asked visibly irritated.

“Are you Major James Fullerton?” The man asked.

“Yeah, that’s me who are you?” James replied.

The stranger on his stoop pulled out a gun at hip level and pointed it through the space between the door and the frame.

“I really need to talk to you,” he said calmly.

“Oh shit,” James mumbled.

The armed intruder followed behind James with his gun pointed at his back.

“Where’s a place we can sit down and talk?” he asked with a raspy voice.

“Look, man, I won’t give you any trouble. Just take what you want and get going,” James said.

“It’s nothing like that. My name’s Luetenant Phillip Speers second airborne.”

“I retired from the military eight years ago if you have any gripes with them I really can’t help you,” explained James.

Phillip didn’t reply. When they got to the den, he directed James back to his recliner while he sat down on the couch. James paused for a second when he saw Phillip’s left arm was a robotic prosthetic.

“I’m sorry I have to do this, but I considered all the options, and this was the only way,” Phillip explained.

“What’s this all about?” James asked calmly.

Phillip leaned forward. “I got out of the service three years ago, and about a year and a half ago I started having all these fucked up dreams. Now I know what you’re thinking,” Phillip sighed “PTSD right? Well, that would have made sense but these dreams I was having weren’t mine. In fact, I don’t even think they were dreams. It was like seeing through someone else's eyes. Night after night I was back in the desert doing recon missions in a place I’ve never even been before, and for some reason, the guys on the mission all called me James, James Fullerton. I lived through your time in the Subsaharan,” said Phillip. “I know about Daniel, and I know about that boy in the Michael Jordan jersey.”

James was speechless. He’d never told anyone about that kid, but James had spent years and years begging his ghost for forgiveness, or at least what his mind thought his spirit might be like. It was James’s unit that called in the drone strike that incinerated him. Even though he left behind no mortal remains his face was forever seared into James’s memory. He never could forgive himself for sacrificing the child to the cold mechanical hunter

Phillip saw that he had touched a nerve and decided to press his questioning further. “Have you ever met or heard of a marine captain Peter Harding?” he asked.

James shook his head.

“He came to be about a year and a half ago and told me about the same thing I’m telling you now. He knew every dirty detail of my deployment. He knew about friends I lost people I wasted I mean everything. He even knew how I got this,” Phillip said holding up his robotic arm.

“Have you heard of Corporal Keller?” James asked.

“Have you seen the picture on the wall too?” Phillip asked with wide eyes.

James nodded “yeah the woman with the wings and the ruby eyes.”

“Christ,” muttered Phillip “Yeah that one really fucked with me.”

“So what do we do about it?” James asked.

Phillip set the gun down and vigorously rubbed his eyes. “Look, man, I have no idea what they did to us. The VA never told me anything. It wasn’t until I went to a private doctor I found out about the thing in my head.”

“Yeah, the shadow. I have it too.” Said, James.

Phillip sat back. “Well they’re not going to help us with this thing that much is clear, and the doctors tell me they can’t cut it out. So really there’s only one thing to do only one way we can disconnect ourselves.”

“Yeah?” James shrugged.

Without a word, Phillip picked up the pistol, put it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger. A cloud of red mist saturated with pink particles blasted into the air and sprayed the wall behind him.