#and there is a scary monster roaming its halls

[mugentakeda]

i really like how the fn royal palace looks so stifling and spooky. like even in zukos memories when its all faded theres this gloom to it that looks suffocating. all the hallways are long and empty and look like walking through the doors at the end will lead to your doom

[nukanom1con]

i’m inflicting more trauma onto my heir i think it’s funny lowk

twirling around them having a dream sequence where they find themselves in the halls of the old manor all lit up and lively, as if nothing ever touched it, and begin to roam around before eventually stumbling upon a study room and come face to face with the ancestor (albeit he’s a bit fucked up looking with the gunshot wound to the head from his suicide(think crimson peak)). heir darkest being in shock and awe being all like “i’ve heard so much yet so little about you… it’s a pleasure to finally meet you” in their stupid posh british accent. they exchange a few words before heir drops the “i want to know why you did what you did. all the lives you took—ruined, cheated, everything! as the heir of this estate, i deserve to know. i demand to know!” or some shit.

saying how they haven’t seen the sun for weeks cuz they’ve been locking themselves up charting everything down and studying all the notes and heirlooms gathered from expeditions in hopes to find a way to rid the eldritch monsters from the hamlet (yk kinda following in the footsteps of the ancestor in a way) and how it’s driven them near madness. the ancestor tells them “madness has always crept its way into the heart of this family. it appears to have dug its claws into you—at such a young age, no less…”

kinda like dismissing them as a whole 😭😭😭 before the heir can retaliate, the ancestor does some weird dream lovecraftian shift of the environment and shows the heir the horrors of beyond. saying how they’re so close to the answer and yet still can’t see the world for what it really is or some nonsense. some other nonsense happens and the heir jolts awake in a panicked cold sweat.

the best way i can like describe it as i see it in my head?? would be that like when the ancestor had that scary ass vision when he got the countess’s blood in his mouth yk?? yeah.

[mugzymiik]

I’m A Ghost– Now You See Me Now You Don’t

I REALIZED I NEVER POSTED THE ACTUAL THING HERE OOPS-

its the SBNS thing i posted as a link once i forgot to send it as text too💔💔💔💔

-

Damn. Not much has happened around here lately. Barracuda thought to himself silently, laying the bottom of his head on the little table beside Dub’s throne. I heard Em telling that sphere– I can never remember her name…– that the caretakers have reached The Land of Spheres. The corrupt pyramid sat up. Hm… That means that the green Hero must have matured. Tourmaline, or whatever his name was. Tanzanite. Some kinda stone.

After a little more time of silent thinking, Barracuda decided to wander the halls of the Tower… Like he’d already done about a billion times now. It really wasn’t fun being a ghost. It wasn’t fun being dead in general. He stood up, heading towards the door and putting a hand on the wall of the huge door frame. Dub didn’t seem to be coming back anytime soon… Damn it. He really wanted a reason to not roam around aimlessly, but it seemed as though he had zero choice.

Taking a step out, Barracuda glanced around at all of the corrupted flowers (and some other types of shapes) walking around. He was pretty sure he saw Ajaceare and George chatting to the side out of the corner of his vision, although he couldn’t care less right now.

He sighed. Fuckin’… Goddamnit.

As the monster wandered, a soft sound caught his attention. It almost sounded like– yelling. Panicked yelling. However, it sounded far away. Odd. Barracuda thought, subconsciously beginning to head in the direction it was coming from.

…Wait. Oh, fuck.

Was that a child’s voice?

— — —

Tsavorite wasn’t sure how he got here… Or, like this… But the only thing that was certain to him right now was that he was a ghost. Not one of those sheet ones you’d see masters of procrastination wear on Halloween, though, no. A real one. One you could actually see through, one that could actually phase through things.

…Crap, he felt like he was going to actually pass out. Could ghosts pass out? Was that something they could do? …Could ghosts even sleep?!

Tsavorite was terrified. Just how long had it been since he had died?! He’d woken up in the middle of the forest, where the clear line of foliage between Polygon County and The Land of Spheres met. But the others hadn’t been in sight at all. It was scary. Really scary…

The green Hero dashed around aimlessly, desperately trying to find somebody, anybody that could see him. There has to be somebody that can help– right?!

In his panicked wandering, he stumbled upon a very familiar sight– Poly Town. An actual civilization… And that was where the Chipzel group lived! Maybe they could help him! Tsavorite quickly headed into the town, keeping an eye out for that house he could recognize… Aaaaand… Bingo! There was Squadril, too, walking right in! Perfect! The ghost child dashed through the door just before Squadril completely closed it, gazing around. Huh– and there was Grandpa and Circumsphere! Woah.

Tsavorite ran towards Cintagon, hope flooding through his chest– then, he realized. If the other pentagon– or any of them for that matter– could actually see him, they would have said something already. And so he sat, looking towards Cintagon with a frown. He was speaking to Purpex… And they both sounded pretty upset.

“Marcle’s received word from Rincle.” Purpex spoke, and Tsavorite could see the emotions in her eyes: anger, sadness, guilt. “…Tsavorite’s dead. He was killed by a corrupt.” That hit Tsavorite like a shock, and as he watched Purpex and Cintagon make multiple attempts to hold their tears– which were also futile–, he resisted the urge to cry along with them. He was really dead, then…

He continued to just watch. He felt like– This couldn’t be real. Right?

Eventually, Circumsphere, Marcle and Squadril entered the room, and Tsavorite couldn’t take it anymore. He dashed out of the open window, glancing around in a panic. This could’ve been just a prank. Right? Right? No– no, they wouldn’t do that. Not in the middle of the Pink Corruption basically-apocalypse, at least. And the look of pure grief in Purpex and Cintagon’s eyes had been genuine.

This couldn’t be real…

As soon as Tsavorite neared a bush, he pushed his hand into it without hesitation. It went through. It fricking went through the bush.

He felt like he was going to cry.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no—” The Green Hero kept repeating to himself as he dashed in a very specific direction… …Was he really that desperate…?

…

He was.

—

As Tsavorite neared Dub’s tower, he was beginning to have second thoughts… Would this be reckless? No– no, he was already dead… But what if he wasn’t? There was always a chance he wasn’t dead, right?! If he wasn’t, there was certain death that came from literally walking right into Dub’s tower. But– he was desperate. He wanted to know. He needed to know…

He dashed in.

One of the first things Tsavorite immediately noticed was the sheer amount of corrupted shapes around the tower. He’d known there were a lot of shapes that Dub had gotten to… But not that many!

He began dashing around, trying to push around some flowers, trying to smack some cubes’ heads, anything, just to try and possibly get their attention… Nothing. His hand just kept going through them.

And so, he decided to start calling.

“HEY!” Tsavorite yelled out to a group of flowers, dashing towards them. “HEY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!” He floated in front of one of them, waving his hand in front of her face. She didn’t even seem to notice him, she just kept talking to the other flowers…

He looked around wildly, feeling quite panicked… He dashed towards a cube and a flower having a chat near the corner of the hall. He did recognize the cube, though– Cyan had mentioned something about a cloak, one eye, and that kind of hair… Tsavorite waved his hand in front of the cube, too, “PLEASE–?! SOMEONE–?!” Still. No. Response.

He felt like he was going to cry.

After a bit more of going around, calling out, and even trying to straight up punch someone, Tsavorite floated down to the ground, sitting and leaning against the wall. “Please–…” He sniffled, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped his eye. “Somebody’s got to be able to hear me…”

Just as he finished speaking, a large pink figure caught his attention. He looked up, and spotted, looking straight at him– wait��

WAS THAT PYRARE?!

No– no, it couldn’t be. This monster pyramid looked– Just as he was beginning to fully process who exactly this might be, though, the corrupted pyramid turned, and began to walk back down the hall. Tsavorite gasped, got to his feet, and began dashing after the Pyrare-lookalike. “HEY, WAIT!”

Now that they were fully in his vision, and he was getting a bit closer, Tsavorite could see that some pink triangles were floating around the pyramid, and they themself looked… Transparent? Oh– like him! Except, his triangles were yellow, blue and orange! …Wait– that meant–

“BARRACUDA!”

— — —

Barracuda paused at the Hero’s call of his name. He hadn’t been spoken to with his name in years, let alone being spoken to at all. But, as quickly as he had halted, he began walking again. He really needed to lead this kid away from the tower. He wasn’t sure why, exactly… But… He felt the need to. Well– not a ‘need’, per se. Instead… It almost felt like something was calling him to do so.

Barracuda continued walking out of and away from Dub’s tower, with the Hero trailing after him, now calling his name in sheer desperation. “BARRACUDA! PLEASE, WAIT!”

The kid just kept going… It was getting awfully annoying.

Finally, once he reached the treeline, Barracuda stopped walking, and turned to the green pentagon. “You need to go.” He spoke in a stern voice, in hopes that the child would actually listen to him. From the looks of it, though, it didn’t seem like that would actually happen.

The Hero’s eyes widened. He pulled down his… Scarf? Bandana?– Barracuda wasn’t sure–, and spoke again. “What?! But you’re–”

“I said you need to go.” Barracuda snapped. He quickly came up with an excuse, fueled by only his want for the other to just go. “The corrupts in the tower are very uneased by just your Tree-like presence. …Even as a ghost.” He added that last part quietly.

The Hero frowned, “but I–… You’re the only one who can see me.”

Barracuda’s eye softened slightly. Of course the kid would be this desperate to talk to him… He was alone and confused. Still, though– Barracuda needed to lead him away from the tower.

He stayed silent, debating to himself. The Hero stared up at him, an almost pleading look in his eyes. “…Barracuda…?”

Barracuda gave a heavy sigh. He assumed that this Hero wouldn’t leave him alone if he didn’t at least give him any advice. “I–… I don’t know what to do…” Neither do I. “I just– woke up as a ghost. We were right by the edge of The Land of Spheres… But then I woke up like that, and– I don’t know where the heck Mom or Dad or Orange or Cube or Cyan or—”

Barracuda cut him off. “Alright.”

The Hero perked up at that, gazing up at Barracuda with wide eyes. “What–?” “I said ‘alright’. What’s your name, kid?” The corrupted pyramid asked, looking down at the Green Hero.

The child took a moment to take this in… Then he spoke: “Tsavorite. Hero of the—”

“Hero of the Green Tree of Life. Yada yada, I know.” Barracuda huffed, straightening himself before turning to face the direction of The Land of Spheres. “You said The Land of Spheres. Correct?”

Tsavorite nodded. “Yeah! But, I don’t know where—”

“C’mon.”

Barracuda’s words seemed to shock Tsavorite to the core… He stayed in place, and they stared at each other for a long moment, in silence. Barracuda broke the silence. “C’mon. I’m not gonna find them for you, kid.”

“…Oh. OH! Okay! Oh my Trees– thank you! Thank you so much!” Tsavorite sounded genuinely thankful… And Barracuda felt a small spark of joy go off in his mind, from the kid’s smile alone. “Yeah, yeah. Now, like I said: c’mon.”

And with that, they began walking. Hopefully, just hopefully, Barracuda could find the caretakers and Heroes. Then he could go back to Dub’s tower, never to be bothered by this child again. …He wasn’t sure if he would be able to look straight at Pyrare, however…

Barracuda shook those thoughts away.

Just for Tsavorite’s sake.

[spoonyglitteraunt]

Had to take a break for a day because body got in the way, but we're back off the road (because I can't stick to those to save Link's life) and the travels continue with some ill-advised traipsing through underground tunnels.

I have a feeling this goes all the way up to the castle and I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to go there yet, but there is clothing to be found down here so facing dangers beyond my ability it is.

You may say a lot of things about Link as played by me, but never that he's not impeccably dressed at all times.

So, tiny stint in what’s left of the castle and I’m doubly not sure I’m supposed to be here yet, but also. Good grief that man wasn’t lying about it being maze in here. I had sort of forgotten how bad it was and in BotW you at least had somewhat of a map. Right now it’s nearly impossible for my spatial awareness challenged brain. Orientation what now?

I know they said the cooking guy had snuck over to the castle to find recipes, but you absolute madman how did you get to the dining hall in one piece and why are you still here with monsters roaming about??? I don’t know if you’re insanely brave or if I need to add you to the list of people with zero self-protective instincts around here.

Honestly at this point I think we can put Hyrule down as one of those adaptive radiation evolution cases where everyone just grew to have no proper danger sense. Which may have been needed what with an apocalypse happening every century or so. Like special little kamikaze finches.

Look my man. If you fed me whole pinecones I’d run too.

Ever have that feeling of I know I’m running headfirst into danger and yet I’m doing it anyway because curiosity? Kamikaze finches for sure.

Ok yeah, no. I know when not to engage a big scary monster ten times my size with its own personal flamethrower. This is future Link’s problem.

Chanting as you sneak past: Fall asleep monster monster, stay awaaaay monster monster.

Yeah sorry korok buddy, but if you want to be BBQ that’s your choice, I like my elfboy to be non-crispy, thanks.

[sobremesarp]

🎃 HALLOWEEN EVENTS 🎃

Spooky, scary skeletons have arrived to Sobremesa—and with them come several fun events and features roleplayers can take advantage of for a limited time!

On October 31, 2023 only:

Characters will find themselves trapped in a costume of their RPer's choosing for 24 hours! This can include fandom-based costumes like Jedi robes, Batman's suit, etc. If characters try to take the costume off entirely, it will simply reappear on them within a minute; however, they can make small adjustments like loosening a collar, taking off a hat, etc.

Characters' pets can also find themselves in a costume! These costumes also cannot be removed, as they will simply respawn if someone tries to take them off; however, please avoid costumes that may harm the animals or inflict unnecessary discomfort. They will disappear after 24 hours, just like for the characters.

Until November 1, 2023:

Massive corn mazes can be found sprinkled throughout the woods and fields of both Sobremesa and Asemerbos. Once characters are deep enough in, to the point where its not easy to backtrack, they will suddenly lose all superpowers (just like how it'd be if they walked into Sobremesa, the Colosseum, etc.). They will then have to make it through the rest of the maze powerless. Participants should stay alert! The zombies, cordyceps, and feral animals currently roaming both dimensions also tend to get trapped in the maze.

A haunted mansion can also be found in the center of the Asemerbos city, filled with illusions of pumpkinheads and skeletons partying it up. Endless food, drink, and music can be found in all the rooms and halls, accompanied with abundant spooky decor. Characters should still remain alert though. It's dark and loud inside, making it easy for monsters or those with malicious intentions to slip inside.

As always, these events and features are optional! If you don't want your character in a costume, they don't have to be; the God of Tricks likes their random games.

Want to join in on the fun? Join Sobremesa today—a multifandom roleplaying forum on fanfiction.net. Must be 18 or older to join.

[onestepbackwards]

💙anon is back and with one hell of an au idea!

Little Nightmares submas. Stay with me here. Forgive my shitty writing and grammar I’m on mobile.

The Station promises to bring you to your wildest dreams, treasures and power untold! All you have to do is step on the train.

That’s right, just buy a ticket from your local station, pack you bags and prepare for the journey of a lifetime!

But you didn’t buy a ticket, you didn’t step onto the train at least you don’t remember it.

Waking up in the caboose you’re suddenly tossed into fear as you watch a depot agent grab a passenger they had been escorting by the neck before the passenger crumbles to the floor.

Silent as a mouse you watch the agent stuffs the body into the cabinet of a serving cart and roll the cart into the next cabin.

Wait wait wait, how did a grown person fit into such a tiny cabinet? And where is the agent taking them?

Something isn’t right here. That’s the conclusion you jump to as you look around, constantly glancing at the door the agent exited though. There are suitcases that would fit you standing up, cages of creatures you could never dream of. And…. Is that a person in that cage?

The door to the next cabin rattles and you dive into a gap between two suitcases, praying to whatever god is out there that the agent didn’t see you.

The smile on its face is too large, too much mussel, too much emphasis on its teet- Those teeth why are they so sharp? Does it has razors for teeth? It’s teeth are just to defined- scratch that, it’s smile is too defined.

And where were the rest of its features? No eyes, no nose, everything above its unnatural mouth was smooth, like porcelain. Like a child had scribbled a smile on a blank face, but ran off before the rest could be completed.

Face to smooth, but it’s body was too large too wide for how little space-The caboose was large. Large enough for the monster of a human in front of you to easily reach the of the ceiling without effort.

Standing amidst the people sized luggage the agent looked so giant, like the fairytales grandma used to tell you…

What if it looking for-. It’s looking at you. Right at you.

Run.

Long story short. Gear station promises it riders whatever they could possibly dream of. All you have to do to achieve it is buy a ticket, pack your bags, say goodbye to your loved ones, and board your train. The destination? Whatever you want! For a cost. Of course.

Reader would get around the train by hiding it food carts the agents steer around, climbing through the vents, and/or hitching a ride on or in suitcases.

Depot agents have porcelain like faces with only one feature, a smile or frown. They are easily double the size a normal person. I have multiple ideas for this, and three endings based on the readers choices.

1. Conductor of chaos

2. Silent Steamroller

3. Precious Pest

Each of those endings will change our meeting with the twins. Please please please, ask me for on this.

-💙 anon who has been locked out of their laptop for three weeks with serious brainrot.

Little Nightmares my beloved

It would be so cool to see the little nightmares scenarios through a train like from Submas.

The scary, unnerving depot agents, and the two Masters who run the show.

Maybe even other scary, familiar faces, like Elesa, roaming the train halls, or perhaps a car to herself. Careful though! There are electric traps all around!

What a neat idea 👀 definitely send more if you think of any more stuff!

[leeus-writing]

The Darkness

Request was for: - saw that your requests were open and would like to see if its okay to ask for a one shot where Vincent finds out his S/O is scared of the dark. Thank you for considering.

The Darkness

You were so embarrassed as you curled up beside Vincent. This was the first time you’d both slept together in the same bed. Normally at home you left a light on in the hall. The dark, it scared you. Shadows would move against the dimly lit walls, and it reminded you of the stories from the slums.

Monsters and creatures, that would roam the slums was all kids and even sometimes adults talked of. How could you not be scared. Who would want to wake up to a creature chewing your foot! You shivered at the idea and pulled in closer to Vincent.

The man you loved so much cracked a lazy eyelid and looked at you with the deep red eyes you loved so much.

“Y/N? are you alright?”

“Yeah,” You replied with a feeble voice.

Vincent sat up a little and lent on his hand. He looked down at you, curtains of black hair falling from his head and laying over the pillow like silk ribbons. He raised an eyebrow at you. You looked up at him and tried to smile convincingly.

“Y/N…” His drew your name out in a soft manner.

“Alright. I’m a little scared of the dark,” You replied and looked away ashamed.

Vincent smiled and kissed you lightly, he got up from the bed and took a bedside lamp. He took the lamp and placed it on the floor outside the room, switching it on. Once he returned and slipped into bed and pulled you close.

“Is that any better?” He asked stroking your hair softly.

“Yes, much,” you replied nuzzling into the skin on his chest.

“Why did you not mention before we were getting to bed?” He asked now running his fingers through your locks.

“I was embarrassed,” you replied.

Vincent kissed you head and lay down so you now lay with your head on his chest.

“No, please do not be embarrassed for valid fears. The dark can be scary,” He replied sleepily.

You smiled and found yourself feeling much better, closing your eyes and falling into a soft sleep.

[daforged]

torchwood is so fucking good sometimes like i love that the very first episode ever is so dramatic at first like ooo there’s a dead man & this super sketchy organisation comes to investigate and briefly BRINGS THIS DUDE BACK TO LIFE??? and oh my god theres some fucked up monster roaming the halls of the hospital killing people and this same sketchy organisation is involved and people are dying and its all so dramatic and then our lovely protagonist “sneaks” into the hub pretending to be the pizza delivery girl & everyones just fucking with her & it turns out this super secret scary special ops team is just a bunch of mentally ill bisexuals sharing 0.69 braincells trying to keep the world from collapsing on any given day. and then they drug her but its okay thats part of the charm

[clouditae]

First Love | 16

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | smut | oral | fingering

Word: 6.3k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

You stare at the two story house as if it’s your own home. The red brick walls and white shingles–it’s like your typical house you see in movies. You and Hanbin have been together for eight months and you’ve been over to his house for two months now. His parents and siblings love you. Every time you’re over they’re asking if you’d like to stay for dinner or if you’d like to play family game night together. You would always stay and have dinner or play games even though you knew you were supposed to check in to your hotel room.

They always seemed to distract you and then you’d take their spare bedroom instead of heading to your already bought room. Eventually you just stayed at their place rather than find a hotel.

Today is different in a way. You’re staying at his place as usual, but today Hanbin’s family isn’t home, leaving just you two alone for the weekend. You’re nervous. Why? Because after almost three months of things getting heated between the two of you, you’re wondering if this weekend will be the weekend you lose your virginity to him. It makes you nervous and scared, but you trust him. You wouldn’t want to lose your flower to anyone but him. The man who makes you feel loved, cherished and so protected that you feel like you can go anywhere with him and not be scared of the “monsters” that lurk out in this world.

You walk up to the door with Hanbin after going out to grab some dinner for the movie you’re going to watch in his bedroom. “It’s a scary movie,” he said, and although you like scary movies, you still get scared during the movie and at night when you go to bed and let your thoughts take over. If he’s going to make you watch a scary movie close to night time, he better be ready for you to sleep in his bed with him and against the wall because you are not sleeping alone.

You wait as he unlocks the door, bag in hand and drinks in yours. With the familiar sound of a click from the door, he turns the knob and opens the door, allowing you to enter first. You walk inside the house and further down until you’re standing near the entry ways of the living room and kitchen. Hanbin closes the door behind him and locks it, turning to you with a sweet smile as he walks along with you up the stairs and down the hallway towards his bedroom at the end of the hall.

“I’m so excited,” Hanbin says, the tone in his husky voice showing excitement as well. “I heard No One’s Home is the best horror ghost film this year.” You can’t help but shiver and he seems to notice as he chuckles. “I’ll hold you real close, Y/N. You can your face in my arms.” You smile, feeling your heartbeat quicken. The two of you enter his room and he closes it behind you, following you as you make your way towards his black sofa that is against his wall on the right side of the room.

The room is rather simple but expensive looking. Standing at the doorway, the bed is immediately to your left against the wall, his desk with an expensive computer was at the end of his bed. Black sheets and a gray blanket with a worn stuffed elephant placed in between the two pillows–a stuffed animal he’s had since he was a baby. Along the wall with the sofa is a dresser with little knick-knacks he’s collected over the years along with a few trophies he’s won from his baseball tournaments. At the back far wall is Hanbin’s wall mounted television, underneath is a long bookshelf full of figurines, photos of his friends and family and books on film. On his off white colored walls are photos from movies such as The Godfather, Casablanca and more well known movies.

You take a seat on the sofa, placing the drink on the dark wood coffee table as Hanbin does the same with the food. As you get everything ready you can hear Hanbin get to work setting up the projector placed on a floating shelf above you, ready to project on the empty wall where the bed was against. You place his drink and order in front of the empty spot where he will sit, opening the box and putting the straw into his cup before doing the same for yourself. Once everything is ready and the movie is starting, you watch as Hanbin grabs a remote off from the coffee table, pressing a button and the lights dimming just enough for it to be dark but to still be able to see the food in front of you.

And so you two dig in, the movie already starting with a woman screaming.

You bury your face into Hanbin’s shoulder, earning another laugh from him as the intruder breaks the window to enter the house. He rubs your thigh that was on his lap with his thumb, his other hand holding you closer. “I didn’t know I’d date a scaredy cat when I asked you out.” You shake your head, not wanting to hear the struggle of whatever is happening. He chuckles, his body vibrating from his laughter, giving you a sense of peace from the fear that is hovering over you. He places a kiss on the side of your head, resting his cheek against you. You turn your head to the side, your forehead pressed against his cheek as you focus on the sound of his breathing. Closing your eyes, you enjoy the feeling of him. The feeling of his arms wrapped securely around you, his thumbs rubbing small circles on you, his slow breathing, and his heartbeat.

You move your head back to look at him, watching him as his attention goes from the movie to you. He looks down at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What?” Releasing one hand from around his waist, you cup his cheek and lean forward, watching him fill in the gap between you two. He kisses you like he kissed you that first time in front of your dorm room. He’s slow, cautious with you, as if he’s waiting for you to give him the okay. It’s what you like about him, he always puts you first.

You kiss him harder, with more greed as you feel him comply, his tongue brushing along your lower lip for access. You let him enter, his tongue brushing along yours as he shifts on the sofa and lays you on the couch as he places himself on top. He places his hand on the armrest to the sofa, the other finding its way to cup your cheek. You let your hand run through his locks as your other hand clutches onto his maroon colored shirt.

He continues to kiss you for a while longer, his lips making their way to your neck a few times before he breaks the kiss and pulls back. “We should probably stop,” he says, resting on his knees between your legs. The first time the two of you got into the moment, his hand brushed along the skin of your hip, scaring you a bit. You’re nervous and unsure and end the moment in an instant. Thankfully he understood and wasn’t hurt by your sudden reaction. However, it continued every time the two of you got caught up, and sometimes you wondered if he was getting irritated by it.

But he wasn’t. He always reassured you that it’s okay to feel that way. You weren’t ready at the time.

Today, however, you’re ready. You’re more than ready.

You sit up, bringing your legs under you as you get to your knees and almost to his height. You shake your head, cupping his cheeks and kissing him once more. You feel him hesitate at first, unsure if this is what you really want, but you have to let him know. You have to let him know you’re ready. Grabbing his hands, you place them on your hips, this time brushing your tongue along his bottom lip. He seems to understand what you’re trying to say, his grip on your hips tightening, his greed he lost coming back to life.

Your hands travel down from his cheeks to the hem of his shirt, trying to push it up and off of him. He releases his grip on you and helps you, quickly removing his shirt. Letting the shirt fall to the floor, he kisses you again; you let your hands roam his toned stomach, feeling every line of his abs. They’re hard even when he’s not flexing. A sign he’s clearly worked out a lot.

You feel his hands reach for your shirt, but he’s hesitant. Unsure if it’s what you want, so you grab your shirt and pull it off yourself. Feeling your heart race and the fear consume you as you realize you don’t have a shirt anymore. You’re topless in front of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend. He’s not a stranger. He’s not someone you’re hooking up with. He’s someone you’re going to make love with. Someone who was so shy in asking you to be his girlfriend that he asked you to be his wife on accident because of the show you two were watching. You never laughed so hard. He’s your boyfriend. He won’t see you any different.

That’s what you have to tell yourself as you remove your hands from over your body, letting him see you. He holds your cheeks, bringing your gaze back up to him. He gives you a soft kiss. A warm and caring kiss. “Are you sure?” he asks in a whisper, his lips brushing along yours.

You swallow and nod. “I’m ready,” you mumble back, looking into his hazel colored eyes.

He nods back, kissing you slow and delicately like you can break any minute, and you feel like you can. You feel his hands travel down carefully until he reaches your sides. He feels the curve of your hips, the side of your bra but never your chest. You want to move his hands there, but you’re too scared to move your own hands from his chest. You’ll just have to let him take his time.

He breaks the kiss again, and not just a few inches, but far enough that you can see the details to his facial features. The mole on the bridge of his nose, his long lashes, and so much more but he doesn’t give you the chance as he wraps an arm around your waist and the other at the back of your thighs, lifting you off the couch. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, watching as he takes a few steps around the coffee table and towards the bed. He climbs onto the bed before lying you down, his body hovering over yours once again.

He places himself between your legs as he kisses you this time with more need than the last. His hand is on your stomach, trailing small circles around your belly button. You shiver under his touch. The kissing continues with your tongues dancing around one another as you find yourself getting a little more confident as you trail your hands down to the beginning of his pants. He doesn’t let you continue as his hand travels up to the fabric of your bra. Your hands stop, body a little tense again as he let’s a finger trail between the valley of your breasts. He plays around your breasts, waiting for you to relax a bit, and when you finally do, you realize your heart is going to explode. He finally places a hand on your boob, waiting a few before he squeezes lightly.

It feels strange if you’re going to be honest. You’ve never been groped before so you’re unsure as to what it should feel like. Maybe because you have the bra on that it’s weird? If you took off your bra would things feel better? Even though you’re beyond scared, you arch your back as a sign for him to remove your last top clothing article. He takes the hint and his hand goes to your back, struggling a little before he unclasps your bra. He kisses his way back down to your neck, licking and sucking as his hand comes out from under you and makes its way under your loose article. His hand is warm as he takes a light hold of your flesh. He squeezes and it still feels strange.

He plays with your nipple, moving it in small circular motions and even pinching it. It feels slightly nice as he  bites your neck. He flicks it and you can’t help but jerk at the sudden motion, but you want him to do it again. You want him to take away the bra so that it’s not in the way.

“Hanbin,” you mutter, catching his attention. You grab your bra and pull it off you, feeling your face go red as you toss it across the room. His eyes travel down from your eyes to your naked top. Leaning down you feel the butterflies explode as he kisses just above your nipple. He kisses below it, kissing around them before he takes one into his mouth. It’s warm and different as he swirls his tongue around, sucking the tip and your body reacts, arching your back for him to take more.

You’ve touched your breasts in a sensual way before, but you didn’t feel this aroused as you do now with Hanbin touching you the way you did. You want him to continue on for who knows how long. You just want to be in this euphoria for as long as you can be before you face–

He grinds himself against your core, your breath hitching from the sudden movement. He does it again, a little rougher as he switches breasts. There’s another intake as you feel the pressure between both your clothed cores. You open your legs wider for him, wanting to feel him grind against you again, and he does. Grinding your own hips to meet the small friction happening between the two of you, Hanbin takes your now hardened nipple between his teeth and bites, pulling it just enough to earn a small moan from you.

As if he couldn’t take it anymore, Hanbin sits up and works on unbuttoning your jeans, you’re just as eager to help. He pulls down your pants and takes them off before they disappear behind him and leaves you now in just your underwear. He looks down to your womanhood, his finger traveling to the fabric. He lets it slide over the silk, his fingers brushing lightly but still causing your body to react from the sudden touch.

He meets your gaze, eyes full of lust that you can’t look away. You feel his finger again, pressing harder so that his fingers traveled between your lips and stopped at your bud where he forms a circular motion. You take in a deep breath never realizing how wet you already were from the few minutes of what he’s done to you. You can’t help but wonder what he feels, but you don’t have to think hard as you can see it in his eyes and the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Ah,” you quietly let out, body twitching from the pleasure you’re getting. Your breathing is slightly uneven as you take a handful of his blanket in your hands. “Hanbin,” you whisper, watching his finger the entire time while he watches you.

Maybe he understands what your body is telling him but your mind isn’t processing because he removes his finger from your bud and grabs the band of your pantie, removing it slowly and off you. Watching him scoot back and lean forward, you can’t help but imagine the first time this happened. The first time you experienced oral sex was when you had your eyes closed and you were lying on Yoongi’s bed as he held your legs open and–

You shake your head, no longer wanting to remember him. He’s not in your life anymore. You haven’t seen him in almost two months–you really haven’t seen him since that night when you had your double date with Ari and Hoseok. When Sam left his bedroom…

Your moan is louder, body pulling back and your back arching as you feel Hanbin run his tongue between your folds. You feel his arms wrap around your thighs, his hands holding them open as he continues his rhythm of a few licks between before going to swirl around your bud, sucking lightly. Your toes curl at the sensation as his hot breath hits your warmth as he creates your fourth orgasm, the building up becoming too much that your body shakes as you see the white stars and the build up burst.

You can feel your skin turning sticky from the sweat that built up from the heat slowly rising the room. The afternoon sun shining through the window, making Hanbin’s skin glow as he sits up, looking down at you. He looks sexy. His jet black hair sticking to his forehead from his own sweat, his toned body glistening as well, and the bulge more evident than before. Just like that first time in Yoongi’s room–your mind refuses to think but rather listens to your body as you get to your knees, kissing him again and your hands traveling to his pants.

You don’t hesitate this time as you unbuckle the belt to his pants, working on his button before finally zipping the zipper down. You don’t pull down his pants but let your hand go in and feel his length. It pulses from under his boxers and it’s hard, the tip leaving a small gap between the band and his pelvis. You grip his member, hearing an intake of his breath as you follow the length up and down. He grabs one cheek of your behind with one hand while the other goes down in between you two, his fingers finding its way to your bead again.

His breathing is ragged as you palm him, feeling his length radiate heat through the fabric as you suppress a moan as he rubs your own heat. Your tongues dance around one another as you finally bring your hand inside his last clothing article, feeling the skin of his penis. It’s warm and pulses in your hand as you do what…

You push that memory back as you let your hand do what it did that day, forgetting the person you practiced on. He moans into your mouth as you rub your finger on his tip, feeling a sticky substance coming from his slit. “Pre cum,” Ari told you when describing the male penis to you. Who knew having a friend open to talking about sex can help you now.

You can’t take it any longer as you feel the familiar high coming as you remove your hand from his pants and use both to push them to pull down his pants and off him. His hand leaves yours and he hops off the bed and removes his pants and boxers in one motion. You stare at his erect member, swallowing at the size of it. It looks big–bigger than Yoongi’s. You can’t stop the fear taking over as you think of that entering you. It’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt so much.

As if sensing your fear, Hanbin climbs back onto the bed, cups your cheeks and brings your gaze up to him. “It won’t hurt like you think it will, Y/N. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re ready, and when you know you’re ready, you tell me and then we’ll try. If you’re not ready today, we don’t have to do it,” he reassures, his voice soft and filling you up with warmth.

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease as he kisses you once, twice, and then you’re lost in his lips. His hands travel down, feeling the curve of your body until he’s back to rubbing your clit, bringing back the feeling once again. You can’t help but bring your own hands back to his, feeling it pressed up against your stomach as you rub it between your hand and stomach. He moans into your mouth as you do the same, feeling the need to do more for him. Grabbing his sex, you bring it down, opening your legs wider as you move his hand away and place it between your folds, remembering how you did it with–no. Stop.

Hanbin breaks the kiss and looks down between you two before looking back up at you. “Please move,” you mumble. feeling already sensitive from him pressed against you. He pulls back, climbing off the bed again. You’re confused as you watch him make his way to his dresser, opening the first drawer, digging around for a second before pulling out a plastic wrapper and a black bottle. He comes back to you, tossing the condom on the bed completely forgetting about it as he focuses on the bottle, opening it and pouring a clear liquid substance onto his open palm. Closing the lid and dropping it next to the forgotten condom, he rubs it between his hands before coating his staff with it.

You realize it’s lube.

He makes his way back to you on the bed, on his knees in front of you as he nods, grabbing his rod and putting it back between you. It’s cold and you can’t stop the gasp escaping past your lips as you go still, waiting for your body to get used to the sudden change in temperature. “Sorry,” he mumbles, voice low and uneven as if he’s trying to stop himself from coming already. After a few seconds of deep breaths from him, he moves, his erection sliding along your vagina. You gasp, feeling the familiar pleasure you feel that day coming back. You close your legs, trapping him between you as he moves, a groan leaving him.

He keeps his pace slow-like as you feel the heat between the two of you grow. “Faster.” You want to feel him–feel him move at a fast pace that you can’t keep still. He complies with your request, capturing your lips as his thrusts become more quick. He glides against you so quickly and with ease as you feel your high grow more and more. The two of you are groaning into each other’s mouths as his thrusts are faster and harder, his pelvis hitting your own that if you weren’t desperate for him to go harder, you would feel the pain ten times more than you do right now. He wraps his arm around your waist to hold you still as he pounds against you.

You pull away, gasping and choking on a moan as you clutch onto him, wanting to become undone so badly. Hanbin stops moving, letting go of your waist as he instructs, “Lie down on your back.” You do as told, feeling your skin peel apart from each other as you lie on your back, looking up at him. He scoots closer to you, placing his sex between your folds again before grabbing your legs closing them and trapping him between them. You bend your knees close to your chest as you feel him move again, his grip on your ankles tightening immediately as he begins to pant.

The moans come back, your hands clutching onto his blanket. You’re close this time. Coming close a lot faster than you were earlier. Maybe it’s the angle, or it’s how he can thrust faster without having to be blocked, but your toes curl, back arching into an uncomfortable position as your body shakes, the long awaited orgasm finally coming undone. You can tell Hanbin’s rhythmic thrusts are uncertain now as he groans louder and a curse leaving his lips as he stills and a warm substance lands just below your belly button.

He releases his grip on your ankles, your legs falling like jelly onto the bed and Hanbin resting his hands on either side of you, his head resting against your shoulder. The two of you breath heavily as the sunlight barely filters through the trees, the room almost completely engulfed in darkness as the ceiling lights had turned off when you finished eating. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he mutters, his breath hitting your collar bone.

He brings his head up to look into your eyes, his hazel eyes glistening from the dim sunlight, black hair sticking to his forehead. You reach a hand up and brush the strands away. “Can we keep going?” you ask, voice barely a whisper, but he hears you loud and clear.

His brows rise. “You want to continue?” You give a slow nod. Did you mess up by asking to continue? Is he tired? Does he not want to? “If you want to we can. It may take me awhile to… you know.” He smiles sheepishly at you, giving you a second to catch on to what he’s saying.

“Oh. Okay,” you reply, nodding in somewhat understanding. You had two orgasms within the first session, so you don’t understand the male body. Maybe all men are different and Hanbin just takes a bit to get into the mood. “We can stop if you want.”

Your boyfriend chuckles. “It’s all about you today, Y/N. If you want to continue we will. It won’t be that long before I’m hard again.” With another nod from you, Hanbin leans down and places a kiss on the tip of your nose. He kisses down to your lips, the two of you sharing the sweet moment before he continues down further. He gives each breast light kisses before reaching your stomach, going down the center of your stomach and stopping before your belly button. He moves down to reach your center. His eyes travel up to you, his hands finding yours and he interlocks your fingers together. “I’ll be trying something. If you’re uncomfortable just tell me.”

Giving him your “okay”, he continues a bit further down until his tongue brushes between your lips again. You can’t help but gasp, your body clearly sensitive to the touch. He lets your hands go and as he holds one leg down, the other is there right along his tongue. He opens the folds, his tongue working its magic and even going a bit further by entering your hole just a bit. You revel in the feeling of his tongue, letting yourself get lost in the feeling as his tongue is back on your clitoris, fingers still where he put them.

His finger glides up and down, collecting what juices you made before he stops lower than where his mouth is. He forms a small circle around your entrance and slowly sticks one finger in. It’s barely the tip of his finger, but it feels strange. However, you’re too absorbed in the feel of his mouth as he inches another finger in. He continues until he has almost his entire finger inside you. Hanbin pulls out before slowly pushing back in.

It feels weird–it feels strange, but maybe he’s trying to get your body used to it before it’s him that enters. When he pulls out, he enters another finger, carefully pushing two digits in you, and you can’t help but feel even more strange. How long does it take before you’re enjoying the feeling? It honestly didn’t take long for the mouth to make you feel good, but his fingers are different. You close your eyes and try to enjoy the feeling you’re getting as best as possible without letting the fear take over.

“Ah,” you moan, body jerking as you feel his mouth suck a bit harder than earlier on your bud. Hanbin continues his small thrusts, twisting his fingers as he enters again, and once curling his fingers, but as he continues, the strange feeling is slowly being replaced with pleasure. He searches and tries as many angles as he can until he finds a sensitive area inside you. “Right there,” you gasp, as he pulls his fingers out. He looks up to you for what looks like reassurance. “Right there please.”

As Hanbin enters his fingers again, he does what he did the last time, twisting his fingers and curling them to hit the same spot so perfectly. You moan louder, bucking your hips from how strong the feeling is. He does it again and again, always finding the same spot as you clutch the blanket, moving your own hips to his movements. “Faster,” you beg, bringing your hips back as he does with his fingers before the two of you meet moving forward. He picks up his pace, the sound of what you can describe as sticking your fingers in slime and the wet sound coming after filling the room along with your moans. You can’t hold back any sounds escaping your body, even if you fear the neighbors hearing you–it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is feeling the whirl of emotions you’re having right now.

You’re begging now. Begging for him to go faster to give you that rush you’re so close to getting, but it’s not enough. “I need you,” you moan, looking down at him as his eyes meet yours. He pulls back and out, sitting up and cocking his head to the side. “I need you in me,” you rephrase, watching as a small ‘o’ forms around his lips in realization.

“Are you sure?” he questions.

“Please.”

He looks hesitant again. Like a child afraid to take something after his mother said “no”, but he moves forward and grabs his girth, lining it up to you. He glances at you. “If it’s uncomfortable–”

“Just tell you,” you say.

He chuckles. “Guess I talk a lot.”

You reach a hand out to him and he takes it. Holding his hand you look at him with a look of comfort this time. “I’m ready. I trust you.”

He inhales, caught off guard by your words. “Okay.” Grabbing the condom and lube bottle, the two items long forgotten about, he rips the wrapper open with his mouth and pulls out the condom, rolling it onto his fill. Tossing the package to the floor, he opens the cap to the bottle and pours it onto his hand, closing the lid and dropping it to the ground where the wrapper lies. You watch him as he rubs the clear substance on his protected shaft. Once he figures it’s covered, he strokes himself a few times before aligning it back to you.

He rubs his bulge up and down your sex, sending a shiver down your spine. Finally, he pushes himself in. You feel him enter but it’s a small amount before he pulls back out just barely leaving the tip inside. He pushes himself back in, a little further in. Pulls out. Again back in, more entering. He continues this, the feeling strange because it’s bigger and he can’t twist or curve it like he did with his fingers. You can feel your walls widen, but it’s not painful like you thought it would. There’s no tears like they have in the movies or what people tell you.

“Sex isn’t painful like people think. If your vag is prepped enough, it won’t feel like you’re being stabbed like the actors make you think. It’s all about knowing your body,” Ari told you when you first confessed to her about your first heated moment with Hanbin.

You’re not afraid, your body isn’t tense like you thought it would be. You’re calm and ready more than ever, and although it feels strange, once he starts moving in and out you know you’ll feel what all women feel.

Hanbin finally comes to a stop, his erection fully inside you. “How are you?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” you answer.

He nods, leaning forward and placing a warm kiss to your lips. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

You wait for a bit. Waiting for your body to get used to his size. When you feel like your body has adjusted, you exhale. “Okay.”

Hanbin moves. Pulling out like he did with his fingers, slow and careful. You’re unsure as to when you’ll feel good, but right now it’s just strange. It’s not uncomfortable or painful. It’s just… weird. He pushes back in, his own breathing uneven, eyes shut tight.

“Are you okay?”

He struggles to let out a chuckle as he answers, “You’re really tight and warm. I’m losing my mind right now.”

“Oh.” Even through the reddened and sweat filled cheeks, you can still feel the heat rise in them.

He opens an eye. “Are you okay?” He pulls back out.

“Yeah,” you half lie. You don’t want to tell him how you really feel. “You can move faster.”

He exhales. “Okay.” The blanket on either side of you shifts due to Hanbin’s grip tightening as he pushes in faster than the last thrust. Resting on his elbows now, Hanbin leans forward and kisses you. You cup his cheeks, feeling his tongue enter yours without a thought as his thrusts into you, the feeling still foreign. Your tongues play around one another with more practice compared to the first time. With practice you’re used to your boyfriend biting your lower lip, pulling back just a bit. With practice you find it so attractive and love how he’ll sigh in such content as you would do the same.

And with practiced thrusts, you finally let out a moan as the strange feeling disappears and the familiar thrill enters in its place. Your moan seemed to encourage Hanbin as he thrusts even faster than earlier, earning another muffled moan. The kiss breaks, Hanbin sitting back up on his knees with his hands gripping your hips, and you grab onto his wrists, eyes shut as you finally enjoy the feeling of sex.

You moan out his name and he moans out a curse as he pounds into you, the sound of your moans and skin slapping fills the room, the sun long gone and moonlight shining through the window along with the projector light now playing a white light. Opening your eyes to look at him. You can only see his outline, the light from the projector creating an illusion that he’s a god coming down from above. A god thrusting into you so good that your back arches, giving the god-like figure a chance to dip forward and bring his arm under you, changing your positions in one swift movement. You place your hands on his chest to keep your balance still as you adjust yourself now on top of him.

You sway your hips forward and back as you watch your shadow on the wall in front of you. Your hair is wild and if it were a mirror you’ll probably see the mess Hanbin has made out of you, but you can’t stop to focus on yourself as you hear a moan leave your boyfriend’s lips, his hands traveling from your hips up to grab your breasts and squeeze. His moans urge you to move faster and harder like he did. His pleas urge you to be just as quick as he is as you sit up straight and begin to bounce on him, the familiar sounds of slapping skin and moans filling the room again within seconds.

You can feel it again. You can feel the tense feeling licking the edge ready to burst. Hanbin grunts loudly, his body stiffening beneath you as you bounce a few times more before you feel the walls clench around him and the orgasm hit like a wall breaking down a dam. You sway your hips, eyes shut and nails digging into Hanbin’s skin as you ride out your orgasm, feeling your legs trying to close shut around his waist. After a few seconds and the world coming back to life, you hear the pants coming from you two along with the whirring sound from the projector.

You open your eyes to see Hanbin staring at the roof, his chest heaving as you slowly pull yourself off him, flinching as you feel him leave you. Lying next to him, he turns his head towards you, sweat more evident on his skin than earlier today. “That was–how do you feel?”

“It was amazing and intense,” you confess, feeling your voice crack. Your emotions are all over the place and you’re trying hard not to have that urge to cry.

He shifts his body facing you, caressing your cheek as he leans forward to place a kiss on your lips. “What do you want to do? Do you want to take a shower?”

“I want to sleep.” Your body will refuse to get up and make its way towards his bathroom, but you know it’ll get up just a bit to climb under the covers, and it does as Hanbin leans over the bed to grab his shirt and boxers. He hands you his shirt for you to put on as he removes the condom and tosses it into the trashcan next to his desk and puts his boxers on. When you’ve settled in, Hanbin brings you into his arms and you fall asleep almost immediately.

The following morning you wake up before he does, remembering all that happened the night before. You turn to look at his sleeping figure, watching his chest rise and fall slowly. After five minutes of debating with yourself, you decide to wake him up.

The two of you barely left that room for the rest of the day.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

"you're not helping..."

CW: Teenage OCs (Izzy is 17, Jamie is 14), children of whumper and whumpee, trauma response, referenced past captivity with parental whumper/child abuse but the references are vague

Jax Gallager (referenced) belongs to @comfy-whumpee

Izzy is seventeen years old when she grabs the post to bring it inside on her way in after school and comes to a sudden stop just outside the door, staring down at the envelope, battered and beaten after its long journey not just across a country but over an ocean and through customs, too.

Her little brother Jamie very nearly walks into her, lost in his own game on his phone, and he just barely swings to the side to avoid her. “Iz!” When she doesn’t react, he pauses. He’s taller than she is already, and sure to be even taller before he’s done growing. 

Where Izzy is all skinny knees and sharp elbows, her brother has the sort of bulk that’ll turn to muscle with time. He’s a gentle sort of giant, and it’s concern and not annoyance that shifts in his expression as he reads the wide-eyed stare in hers. “Izzy? What’s up?”

Izzy swallows, her throat clicking so loud she’s surprised the flock of birds lurking in the gutters and on the roof of the place next door don’t take off startled by the sound. She can’t, for a moment, remember how to speak.

She can’t remember how to breathe.

She just holds the card out for Jamie to look at as heat burns behind her eyes, her heart racing. She feels inside her the absurd urge to be polite and sweet and well-mannered. To somehow try to ensure safety in an unsafe space.

But she’s not there anymore.

She’s not there. She’s here.

And still... 

Jamie takes the envelope slowly, looking over it himself, his lips moving as he reads the return address. Then he pales, lips thinning. “How-”

“I don’t know,” Izzy whispers. “She’s not supposed to know where we live, Jamie. She-... she’s n-not allowed, but that’s... that’s her handwriting, that’s-... she isn’t supposed to know-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Iz.” Jamie glances towards the door - Jax is inside, and he’ll know if they’re more than ten minutes late either way, he’ll be looking at the clock and thinking about their safety, worrying over them the way Izzy worries over everything, too. “Look, hide it and we’ll look at it in your room, yeah? I’ll handle Dad.”

She nods, a jerky sort of motion, but she stuffs the envelope into her school bag and the two of them head inside. Izzy blames a headache for being quiet and if their dad suspects, he doesn’t say anything, just lets her go to lie down in her room. Jamie takes more time, talking about his day, getting something to eat and drink.

His skin prickles with impatience, with the need to go look. Izzy’s terror doesn’t translate to him - he mostly feels curious about the woman who makes up half his genes, who he has no memory of at all. Curious, and angry on behalf of a father and sister who struggle with what she did to them. Maybe a little angry that this shadowy woman built the boundaries of his life and made the fears that keep his father and sister up at night, and he doesn’t even remember her. 

Plus, he doesn’t want Izzy to be scared alone. That’s been their deal his whole life, their agreement - Izzy doesn’t have to be scared alone. They’re scared together, and brave together. 

His lips move in memorized words like a prayer as he heads down the hall. He’s been prepared for them to have to be brave together his entire life, urged on by Izzy’s careful planning, the go-bags they still keep hidden from their fathers, just in case. 

My name is James Timothy Gallagher and my sister is Isabella Nicole Gallagher...

Please don’t let this be something like that.

She’s not on the bed when he comes in with a bag of crisps and some water. He finds her pushed against the wall under a blanket between the bed and her desk with a flashlight, still staring at the writing on the envelope.

“Someone e-else wrote the address,” She says when Jamie pulls up the edge of the blanket and sits beside her, squeezing into the tiny space as best he can. Her voice is shaking and her eyes are red-rimmed but dry. “Not M-Mom. She wrote my name, but... but that’s it. Oh, God, she started writing Isabella M-Marcoset and had to cross it out-”

“Bint,” Jamie says amiably. “Everything’s Gallagher now. But there you go.” He nudges her with an elbow. “She doesn’t know where we are, still, right? Someone else wrote it for her.”

“That’s n-not helping,” Izzy says, and sniffs. “That means someone helped her send it, someone who does know, someone w-who-... I can’t. I can’t look.”

“Probably her lawyers or something, they’d have our address I guess. If we tell Dad he’ll rip them to shreds over it, you know his lawyer chews them up for breakfast. If you can’t look, I can.” Jamie takes the envelope from her before she can stop him and tears it open, casually ripping half the envelope apart to get to what’s inside. 

When he finds it, he blinks. “What the fuck?”

“Don’t let Dad hear y-you say that,” Izzy says automatically, with a weak smile.

“Like he’s one to say much. I think you mean don’t let Kie hear me say that.” Jamie’s eyes roam over the contents of the envelope. “Iz, this is a card for you.”

Izzy looks slowly over, peering through her fingers.

On the front, it’s pastel pink bordering a black-and-white print of a child’s chubby hand against a polka-dot dress. 

It’s okay to miss your mom, the outside of the card reads.

Izzy’s lips pull back from her teeth in a snarl.

Jamie opens the card to read what’s inside, in his soft voice. He might look more like the Marcoset side than his sister does, but his voice is nearly indistinguishable from his father’s when he speaks softly like this. “... Because she sure misses you. Though we've grown apart, I really do miss you. I remember my sweet little girl on her special day. Happy birthday, Isabella. And she wrote in here her prison address to write back. Tell me about you. Love, Mom.”

He sits there for a second in silence and then says, slightly dumbfounded, “Well, shit.”

Izzy starts to cry, hands pressed over her mouth to keep it silent.

The tears run in a waterfall, burying themselves in the minute space between hands and skin. She tastes salt at the corners of her lips. Jamie slides an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close, pressing a kiss to her chopped-short hair, starting to slowly grow out on one side. 

“Oh, Iz. D’you want me to get Dad?”

She shakes her head viciously, little hitched sobs and half-sounds coming from her and little more. Even if Jax had his ear pressed to her door, he wouldn’t hear her, Jamie thinks. His big sister learned how to cry silently, to keep herself safe by not doing anything to bring her mother’s attention on her.

She knew how to be silent out of fear before she learned how to speak in full sentences. Jamie heard someone say that, once, he can’t remember who. He wasn’t supposed to hear it.

They tried not to let him see how hurt she was, but Jamie has always known his sister was shattered and he wasn’t, and he’s always felt like he has to be the one who stays whole for her. 

“Please, Iz. He’ll know what to say. I, I don’t know what to do-”

“It’s not my birthday.”

Her words are muffled behind her hands at first, and so quiet he nearly misses them even in the stuffy silence under the blanket.

“What?”

“The-... the c-card said happy birthday, but my birthday was... was seven m-months ago.” Izzy’s tears turn to bitter, cynical laughter, no less worrying than the crying had been, still nearly soundless. “She doesn’t even know when my fucking b-birthday is. You’d think since s-s-she’s the one who fucking made me-... oh, my God. She doesn’t even know my birthday.”

“No, I-... I guess she... doesn’t.” Jamie opens the card again to look it over. He hadn’t even thought about that, but now looking, he can’t help but start to laugh, too. “Iz, why’d she-... she could have just asked someone when your birthday was, it’d be in the court stuff, right? Birth certificate and shit?”

“Right. She wouldn’t want people to kn-know she didn’t remember. Or she just didn’t care.” Izzy’s shoulders shake, now, laughter or tears or both. “She doesn’t want to know me, she can’t even bother to know my fucking birthday. She’ll just-”

“Ask about Dad,” Jamie whispers.

“Right.” Izzy stares down at the card, then hands Jamie the flashlight and takes the card right out of Jamie’s hands and tears it right down the center, then again, and again, and again. The sound of the thick cardstock paper shredding is the loudest sound in the room.

“She doesn’t fucking know me, she doesn’t know anything about me, she doesn’t know she doesn’t know me and she doesn’t even fucking want to try-”

Finally, when all that’s left is a scattering of little bits of paper with the occasional visible word, like the world’s most irritating puzzle, Izzy shoves the blanket off entirely, picks up the pile in both hands and throws it up into the air, giving another bitter laugh as the pieces float down like confetti. 

“She can’t even be scary right,” Izzy declares, and Jamie watches his big sister force down her fear to mock the monster under the bed, the nightmare mother who never quite leaves her mind. “That’s how awful Mom is. Even when she’s trying to scare me, she can’t do it r-right.”

“I don’t think she meant to be scary,” Jamie says, a little hesitantly. “I think that was her trying to be our mam and fucking that up.”

“Well, she’s not a mam, is she? She’s not. She’s a fucking... she’s... Fuck her!” Izzy sweeps up the scattered bits of card and dumps them into the little bin she keeps by her bed, covers them with some tissues to hide them from anyone who might see. 

She turns to look at Jamie. “Don’t tell Dad, okay? He doesn’t need to know about this.”

“Iz...” Jamie stands and reaches out to pluck a piece of card that had gotten stuck in her hair. There’s a clearly recognizable Isab- visible on it. “You should tell him.”

“But you won’t.” Izzy’s eyes search his, looking up at her younger brother. They’ve always trusted each other, been each other’s backup more than anyone else, in the way of children who know they might have to keep each other safe when adults can’t. “Promise, Jamie. Promise you won’t tell Dad.”

“I promise,” Jamie says, uneasily. “I won’t tell, Iz. But you still should. Or at least tell therapy, or... something. Not just sit on this like it didn’t happen.”

Izzy doesn’t say anything either way, half-chasing him from her room so she can duck into the little bathroom and wash her face, wiping away the evidence of her tears, leaving only the hint of red in the corners of her eyes to give her away. 

She comes out and blames it on her headache, promises Jax she’s taken something for it, disappears back into her room. He can’t tell if Jax believes her - their dad is hard to read sometimes. But... Jamie thinks maybe he knows something’s up. 

Jamie settles down to play his game on his phone a while longer in the living room, and he wonders if she’s in there digging the pieces of the card back out to put in the box under her bed she thinks nobody else knows about.

But he knows.

He’s seen the CD cases, printed out photos from old interviews, an old magazine she’d nicked from a hair place after getting her hair cut once. Their mother’s face again and again and again, younger or older, in prison and before prison and between prison, too. 

The monster literally under the bed. 

He should tell Jax, probably. It can’t be healthy, to keep all those things. Right? But he can’t bring himself to break her trust, when Izzy trusts almost nothing and no one outside her own home. He can’t be the one to wreck even that for her. 

He can’t.

He promised. 

Jamie glares down at his game, the little tinny sound coming from his phone’s speakers, a repetitive melody, the soft sound of explosions. 

He should tell Jax.

He should tell Kieran, maybe.

But he swore he wouldn’t, and they’ve always been there for each other even when no one else could be, and so Jamie doesn’t tell anyone at all.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @raigash @whumptywhumpdump  @eatyourdamnpears @pretty-face-breaker 

[fuwafuwamedb]

Aruru Pt 2 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Enkidu)

Previously: 1

___

One story.

And then another story.

Then one more story, because ummum was staying up very late this evening to tell stories and she just wouldn’t fall asleep.

Aruru stared up at the woman, waiting patiently for the moment that her ummum would drift off and let her have time for fun. She’d made these plans carefully. She needed her ummum to just close her eyes and dream happy dreams about adventures and magic and family.

“Aruru,” her mother murmured, leaning in close.

“Night, ummum,” she murmured back, kissing her mom’s cheeks and watching those eyes hover to a close.

Ah! But this was ummum. She was really smart and had special, divine powers. She was like a goddess, able to sense everything before it happened. That was why she had to wait, listening to the sounds of the kingdom outside and to the few people that would shout into the night. She had to feel her ummum’s heart beating gently, just to make sure that she was entirely asleep before she did anything.

With that done, Aruru slipped slowly from bed.

She pulled on her best robes, the ones her ummum had made using her favorite two colors.

The jewelry came next.

She’d learned a lot about royal people from being in this place and royal people always had to wear their jewelry when meeting with diplomats and with other royals. They had to behave appropriately, standing tall and proud, answering questions honestly and proving themselves to be brave and powerful.

Everyone in the kingdom seemed to think her abum was the most powerful and smartest man in all of the universe. Even smarter than the gods too!

Her eyes drifted once more over to where her ummum slept.

Ummum would not like this. She was always talking about how dangerous it was to spend time with the king and she had those strange eyes when she talked about him. While she didn’t really listen to what her ummum said, the sight of all that water threatening to fall out of her ummum’s eyes was enough to have kept her from going to meet this man.

Until tonight, that is.

He had kissed too many ladies that were not her ummum.

Her teacher had said that kissing was meant for the person you marry, because otherwise it would hurt the person you marry and they would waste away into nothing.

Well, if he was kissing not ummum, then she needed to help him stop.

Immediately.

It was for the safety of her mom that she did this.

With a nod to the reflection glass, Aruru opened the doors to the hallway and crept out.

It didn’t sound like anyone was still awake.

There was the sound of the owls and the night animals, moving about in their frenzy of activities. She could hear the wind since they were high enough up in the air in the building. There were flickers of the flames in the torches as Aruru meandered the halls.

Now, where was that king?

He had been near her favorite garden, but the building looked bigger at night.

Maybe she should have investigated more.

The hallways were large, reaching up to the heavens above her and making it so that the stairs to get to the next floor were large and tiring to walk up. She had looked up at all the big statues and fabrics that adorned the walls, knowing that somewhere out there, there was a really tall person that went around and just hung things up for a living.

It sounded like a neat job, but their handiwork was even darker at night.

The warm and nice fabrics now hung high over her head, like great dark portals letting lions and nightmares into the room. She could see the statues, but their glittery claws and shiny teeth were now glinting in the light of the torches, their eyes following her as she walked passed them.

No, she ran by the end of the one hallway, slipping around the corner and panting slightly.

Her eyes looked to her left.

The sound that came out of her was a squeak of a scream, quickly covered by her hands as she looked deep into the garnet eyes of an anzu bird statue. The great lion’s head was baring its teeth, leaning in close enough that it could have taken a bite if it were real.

Real or not, she still fell on her rump.

She still felt her heart racing as she tried to tell herself it was okay.

Ummum was near.

Abum was near.

She was fine.

Monsters weren’t really real. There was nothing that was inhuman that lingered anywhere near Uruk. Everywhere was safe and sound, especially-

“What is this?”

She saw the flash of green and squeaked again, feeling her stomach churn as she tried to flee.

A pair of strange claylike hands were holding her though, pulling her back little by little.

“LET ME GO!”

“Hmm?”

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!”

The being was huge, enormous. This was the one that hung all the tall things that she would never be able to reach. Their eyes didn’t gleam in the light like a human being. Their face was too smooth, neither a girl or a boy. They were too strange, too still.

Monster.

They were a monster!

She opened her mouth to scream when a door opened nearby.

Aruru froze.

She was locked in the hands of an absolute monster, one who was taller than the gods and the mountains and stiller than the earth and the deep blue skies. And then the person she had wanted to see so bad, the man she was needing to find to save her ummum from being sad forever, was standing right there, his smirk dying as he looked down at her.

Aruru yanked her arm out of the monster’s grip.

She kicked at them before rushing forward and wrapping her arms around her abum.

“Help.”

The word came out in a hiccup, her grip tightening on her abum.

A hand pressed lightly to her head.

“Enkidu, explain.”

“I don’t get it either,” the monster replied, making her glare over at them. “I came back to grab some things for Shamhat and found the little one scared of the statues.”

Aruru could feel her hair being brushed, a little bit of tugging making her wince.

“She didn’t dye it. I’d smell the strange chemicals.”

“Look to me.”

Her father lifted her chin, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks as he looked her over.

“…These are mine. What are you doing with these?”

“Ummum gave me this stuff.”

“Ummum?”

“Ummum is your wife. Your best wife…”

The man glanced to the monster again.

“…Do you not remember ummum? She has brown hair, brown eyes. She makes you eat all your food at meals and you have to make sure to study or she gets really upset and gets quiet because she didn’t have so many opportunities and she thinks you shouldn’t waste them.”

“Hmmm…”

“You know ummum’s ummum face,” Aruru argued. “The one she makes that’s like this!”

Aruru scowled, just like she’d seen her ummum do.

In response, the king snickered, those eyes lighting up.

“I know that look.”

“Good. Then let’s make the bad guy go away and then we can lay with ummum and sleep.”

“I think I have another plan,” the man mused. Aruru found herself turned around, marched up to the being whom stood in waiting. “Apologize for calling Enkidu a bad guy and for shouting when they had done nothing to you.”

“But-“

The flash of a look made her whimper, her eyes drifting back to the being that was now lowering themselves to her level.

“…Sorry…”

“Enkidu, did you hear something?” Her father drawled.d

“I, Aruru of Uruk, apologize for calling you a bad guy. You are tall and you look strange and you scare me, but Abum is here and Abum will keep me safe until Ummum gets up.”

“I scare you?”

Aruru felt herself nudged forward, a throat clearing making it clear she had to do something else.

“Am I really that scary?”

The monster leaned in, those strange eyes roaming over her face as they took her hands into their own.

“I am here to protect your abum and ummum. I am Enkidu, the friend of your abum’s.”

“Do not coddle this behavior, Enkidu.”

“May I have a hug?”

Aruru just stared at the being a moment before she moved to hug her father. Her eyes closed.

She shook her head.

“Tomorrow she will give you a proper morning hug,” the king told him. “For tonight, I have maidens to remove from my bed and a daughter to learn about. I imagine this conversation will take a while-“

“What about ummum?”

“She will come in the morning. After all, she has indulged you and your wellbeing to a deep extreme.”

There was something off about that, but a kiss to her forehead had her tongue tied and her mind easily influenced.

This was her abum, after all.

And he seemed to like her.

[pnf-lover98]

Cars - The Night of the Undead Batteries

“Huh. Look at this weather…” Sheriff commented, examining the dark clouds looming over the town’s buildings. “Let’s hope it won’t rain, tonight…”

A thunder roared upon Radiator Springs. Gathered at Flo’s, the old police car, McQueen, Sarge and Fillmore were spending that Halloween night chatting.

“The sky looks like it’s straight out of a horror movie” Fillmore looked up.

“It fits this night perfectly!” Lightning said, as the wind made the restaurant’s Halloween decorations swirl. “Hey! Do you guys remember how last year Mater tried to sell us the story of that car-shaped sentient cloud that haunted the Butte?”, the racecar recalled, causing a round of laughter from his friends.

“I do! Oh, boy…” Sheriff sighed. “I wonder what he’s gonna come up with, this year!”

“Something as not scary as usual, I bet” Sarge answered.

Meanwhile, Flo had joined the other cars. “Aww, come on. Maybe this year he’ll surprise us!”, the woman tried to defend their friend.

“Talking about Mater…Here he comes!” Sheriff announced, noticing the tow truck’s shape in the distance. He was running at full speed toward the group.

“Sheriff!! Lightning!! Help!!” the truck started to yell.

“Woah, Mater! What’s wrong?” Lightning asked, concerned by the hurry in his friend’s pace.

“T-t-there’s a zombie f-following me!!” Mater stuttered. “Quick! We-we need to run for cover!”

“Pffft, a zombie!” Sarge exclaimed, bursting into laughter.

“C’mon, dude! You’ve done way better pranks!” Fillmore calmly said to Mater.

“What? No! It’s not a prank!” the truck shouted. “You have to believe me! Doc is back; he’s turned into a zombie!”

“Quit it, Mater!” McQueen snapped, hearing his friend’s name. “It’s not funny. Leave Doc out of your tall tales!”

In that moment, a lightning strike lit up the dark long road in front of them, revealing the silhouette of a car in the distance.

“No! No, no, no! It’s too late! He’s here!” Mater exclaimed in despair, and hid behind one of Flo’s gas stations.

An eerie screeching sound filled the air. The distant silhouette got closer, revealing its identity. It was a Hudson Hornet model, with his familiar dark blue paint job covered in rust stains all over his body. Doc’s blue eyes had now faded to gray, and his friendly calm smile was now replaced by an hostile, menacing frown.

Lightning temporarily stopped breathing. That was the last thing he’d expected to happen! The other cars were frozen too, probably still trying to figure out whether to believe their eyes.

The zombie growled, revealing a set of razor-sharp teeth, then revved his engine, causing all the other cars to snap out of their shock and run away.

“What’s going on?!” Flo shouted. “Mater, please tell me this is all a joke!!”

“I wish it was!” the tow truck replied.

“How in the world is this even possible? Zombies don’t exist!” Sarge exclaimed. Despite his brave nature, this time he was just as terrified as the others; his life-long conviction about the supernatural had just been proven wrong.

“Doc’s been dead for months, now!” Lightning couldn’t make any sense out of that situation.

“And yet, not only he’s back, but he can still go pretty fast” Sheriff pointed out. “We need to shake him off of our tails, if we want some time to hide and plan what to do!”, the old police car suggested.

When the group of cars eventually managed to escape from the zombie, Sarge led them to his shelter.

“What do we do now?” Sheriff asked, as Sarge locked the door behind them.

“We need to warn the others, as soon as possible!” Flo exclaimed. “Sarge, we’ll have to use our phone.”

Sarge looked around, nervously. “I, uh…I don’t have one”, the Jeep admitted.

“What? Dude! You don’t have an house phone?” Mater asked, surprised.

“We can try with the main phone near the town hall” Sheriff suggested.

“Wait…didn’t it stop working two days ago?” Lightning recalled.

“We need to go and give the others a shout-out” Flo decided.

“Ok” Sarge nodded. “Flo, Mater and Fillmore will help the others to hide and stay safe”, the sergeant ordered. “Me, Sheriff and Lightning will try to find and block that zombie”

The two groups split, leaving the shelter with the promise of reuniting at the sheriff’s office.

Not long after Sarge’s  group started patrolling Radiator Springs, Lightning, ahead of the other two cars, found an horrible surprise.

“Guys!” the racecar squeaked, his voice high-pitched in fear. “Come here!”

“Oh my God…” Sheriff exclaimed, approaching the corpse Lightning was staring at. Otis was lying lifeless, his hood opened to reveal missing parts. The poor old car was covered in dents, and was leaking oil.

“It looks like he tried to defend himself” the police car pointed out. No one could move or find  anything to say for a while; the three cars were too disturbed and frightened by the violence the zombie used against poor Otis.

Sarge swallowed hard to pull back the lump in his throat. “We have to find that monster immediately” the Jeep said. “Before anyone else gets killed!”

“Should we split up?” Lightning suggested. “Our research will be shorter, this way”

“Splitting up would only mean giving Doc more chances to catch us” Sarge objected.

“But finding him would actually be easier” Sheriff pointed out.

Sarge pondered the situation. “Fine…”, the Jeep eventually gave in. “But we must be extra careful, if we want to stay alive!”, he warned.

After another good half of an hour spent roaming around Radiator Springs’ empty streets, Sarge and Sheriff, now alone, were finally able to track down Doc following the trail of havoc the zombie had left behind himself. The two cars led the former doctor toward the sheriff’s office and managed to lock him in the jail behind the structure.

Eventually, Mater’s group joined in. Fillmore, even though he was keeping a safety distance from the jail’s fence, couldn’t help but stare at the zombie, feeling a little fascinated by the monster. “Woah, Doc…” the bus called for his friend. “You look awful. How do you-“

As soon as Fillmore moved a little closer to the fence, Doc stopped his driving in circles. With a growl, the blue car drove at full speed towards Fillmore to try to attack him, hitting the metallic net. Fillmore immediately backed off, terrified. The zombie tried a few more times to bite the fence, before retiring in defeat in the corner of the cell.

“He doesn’t recognize us. We’ve tried to talk to him before you guys arrived” Sarge warned his friends. “He only sees us as preys to attack, now”

“What do we do with Doc, now that we’ve locked him here?” Lightning asked, taking a glance at the blue car.

“We keep him as a friend, of course!” Mater suggested enthusiastic.

“What?!” Sarge snapped in reply. “What part of what I said-“

Flo interrupted the Jeep driving up between him and Mater.

“It’s I-don’t-know-what-time past midnight, and I’m really tired just like the rest of you. How about we all go to sleep and solve this thing tomorrow?” the woman said. The firmness in her voice allowed no objections.

“A few of us need to take turns, here, to keep an eye on Hudson” the sergeant reminded the others. “I volunteer, of course”

“I will stay too”, said Fillmore.

Sheriff sighed, resigned; that long night wasn’t going to be over for him any time soon. “No, I will. The rest of you will go home and rest”

The first turn was Sheriff’s. The long hours passed without accidents, and the old police car had some time to think about all the unbelievable things that had happened that night. One of his closest friends, whose loss he had grieved over, suddenly came back from the dead! But if a friend comes back forgetting everything the two of you lived together…is it any better than  not having him around at all?

Lost in his thoughts, Sheriff watched as Doc took another run toward the net, and then wince in pain as he failed once again to break it down.

“Is everything ok?” Sarge’s sudden appearance startled the police car.

“Oh…” Sheriff calmed down, recognizing the Jeep. “Yeah. Nothing has happened, so far”

When Sarge took his place, the old sheriff was more than happy to finally get some rest. But right as he was about to doze off for a nap, a metallic noise came from the prison.

Then another.

Then came a much louder clang.

“Oh no!”

Lastly, Sheriff heard Sarge’s scream.

- - - - - -

“Hey, buddy… You ok?” Mater asked, interrupting the long silence. He and Lightning were driving back to Mater’s junkyard, but neither of them was in the mood for a chat, this time.

McQueen sighed. “I just want to go to sleep and get out of this living nightmare!”, he replied.

“What?” the truck exclaimed. “I know that…zombies are scary and stuff, but…Our ol’ Doc is still back with us!”

McQueen’s eyes watered.

The chase, the mess that the zombie caused around the town… It had all been so sudden, that night! Lightning didn’t even have the time to process the wide range of emotions that he was feeling.

It had been so scary, and even quite heartbreaking, to see his former mentor behaving not much better than a wild animal, ad Lightning knew that living with a zombie in town could never be possible, but still… Having Doc back was one of his biggest dreams!

A noise interrupted the racecar’s train of thoughts; “Hey, did you hear that?” he whispered to his friend.

A familiar screeching sound filled the air, making the oil run cold in the two vehicles’ veins. One instant later, Mater and Lightning were running at full speed, screaming in fear.

Even with the help of their headlights, both of them couldn’t make out much of the road in front of their tires; McQueen accidentally hit something on the dark pavement and found himself with a blown tire.

“Mater!” Lightning shouted. “I need help, buddy!”

But Mater was nowhere to be found.

Maybe he didn’t hear me and ran off!

McQueen considered his situation. He and Mater were heading toward the desert; even running without a flat tire, there probably wasn’t going to be a good hiding spot to lock himself in.

I could still try to… No! What am I thinking about!

The racecar checked his rear-view mirror. Doc was already almost on his tail.

It won’t work. He’ll kill me, just like Otis.

The rational side of McQueen’s head was screaming for him to run for his life, but his guts suggested him to try the impossible one more time.

I’ll get caught anyway, he realized.

Taking a deep breath, Lightning steered, and turned around.

“Doc, please! It’s me. Lightning McQueen!” the racecar cried out. Seeing him stop, Doc slowed down, probably tired out by all that running. Yet, he was getting closer.

“You can’t have forgotten! We were friends!” Lightning wanted so bad for him to remember.

“It’s me! Lightning!” the racecar tried again, to no avail.

It won’t work.

“The ‘rookie’!”

It could never work.

McQueen closed his eyes, bracing himself for the worst to happen. But when he opened them again, Doc was standing in front of him, not attacking nor moving forward. His ever-present menacing glare had vanished.

“S-s-s…” the old car said, wincing. He was trying to talk, but it was evidently something very hard for him to do. “S-so…n?”

Lightning’s jaw dropped. It worked! It actually worked! “Oh my God…You remember!”

The red car couldn’t help an exhausted laughter as tears watered his eyes. Doc was back and he remembered. “Oh, Doc…You have no idea how much I missed you! But now you’re here, and…and this is amazing! Now we can…Hey, are you… are you ok?”

Doc winced again, visibly in pain. The whole process of coming back from the dead really must have taken a toll on his body.

And right as Lightning was already thinking about a future new life with his old friend, Hudson gave in to his zombie instincts. The old car’s gaze turned as empty and menacing as before. “E-e…at!”, he said with a snarl.

“What?!” Lightning exclaimed, panic flooding in his veins. “No! Wait!”

But the zombie was already over him. “No!!!”

- - - - - -

McQueen jolted awake, gasping. It took a bit for him to recognize the place he was in, but the car exhaled in relief as he saw he was still in his garage.

“It was only a nightmare”, Lightning said to himself. “Calm down!” His engine was still pounding fast.

“Mhhh…” Sally woke up next to him. “Stickers…?”, the woman murmured. “What’s wrong?”

Lightning hesitated. “Nothing. I…I had a nightmare.” The racecar could still see the zombie in front of his eyes. “Me and Mater shouldn’t have opted for that horror movie marathon, last night…”

Sally reached out for her boyfriend’s front tire. “Shhh…”, the woman hushed him, her voice still sleepy. “It’s over, now. Let’s go back to sleep.”

In a few minutes, the two cars dozed off again, silence covering their garage with its wings. The entire town of Radiator Springs was soaking in the silence and peace of those early morning hours of November 1rst.

The only exception was a dim, distant screeching noise.

[breadknight-likes-things]

Goosebumps(TV) Retrospective #5: Phantom Of The Auditorium

Remember in the last entry of these posts, when I talked about how Summer Camps can provide an ideal place for the kind of horror stylings Goosebumps loved?  As weird as it is to say for a franchise focused at kids, I think the idea of the spooky things happening at School makes for much weaker than intended effects.  Frankly I’d argue that to kids, the mundane stuff that happens in school is far more terrifying than the ideas of ghosts or other monsters also being present in said setting.  And as we see in Phantom of The Auditorium, the minute things get overtly supernatural is the same time they stop being all that scary. That’s not to say Phantom of The Auditorium doesn’t have some great scares in it, far from that in fact.  As you likely have guessed by this point from it’s title, Phantom of the Auditorium is a pretty basic retelling of the classic Phantom of the Opera story.  Kids are involved in the production of a play (oddly, a play that while never outright confirmed, kind of just seems like it is Phantom of the Opera?), mysterious accidents and events start happening surrounding the production, and an even more mysterious pair strangers come into the mix part way through.  These two strangers almost perfectly represent what does and doesn’t work in this episode, so let’s look at them individually shall we?

The picture of grimy, unclean, under the stage of a school auditorium living.

Mysterious Stranger #1 “Emil”:  “Emil” shows up just about a quarter of the way into the episode, claiming to be the schools “Night Janitor”, a job position that no public school has ever been able to afford filling, when he’s found by the main cast of kids under the stage.  He’s quickly revealed to be just about the opposite of that, putting to rest that aforementioned question of where the school has money in the budget for this man.  In reality Emil is simply a homeless man living under the school, randomly roaming the halls at night, living in a strange hovel underneath the theater during the day and just in general being a nocturnal creep.  Emil is the part of this episodes scares that works because lets face it, all of that is really unsettling.  That there’d be some random homeless, clearly mentally unwell man hiding in the school you attend and stalking it’s halls at night for no real reason is scary enough, but eventually Emil starts to target the kids on purpose!  Granted, his actual motivations aren’t to actually hurt the kids (Though he genuinely comes close to maiming them at least once), merely to Scooby-Doo style scare them away from finding his underground shanty and reporting him, but this is a very real kind of scary that Goosebumps always tends to use effectively when it decides to dip its toes into, and in this instance works incredibly well.

The picture of good, clean, not at all suspicious at all don’t look into it, Canadian living.

Mysterious Stranger #2 “Brian”:  “Brian” on the other hand, is the part of this episode that falls flat on it’s spooky face.  Allegedly, Brian is a newly arrived transfer student from “up north” (Which is a great reminder that all these shows are Canadian as hell) that gets involved in the production of the play and never gives off any real indication that he’s anything other than another extra the show cast to fill space.  I feel that may have been intended given his ultimate twist, but in not building any sort of personality or rapport with the rest of the cast, his ultimate role ends up feeling hollow and the big reveal he has comes across as more or less pointless.  Surprise:  Brian is a ghost, the ghost of a child that died in an accident performing the same play the kids are producing and he reveals himself to be this in a grand, theatrical fashion during the opening night show.  Making bold and hammy proclamations of his grisly fate and, in one shot, literally flashing the fires of hell out of his eyes for some reason.  The problem with this whole twist involving Brian and his ghostly self is twofold.  One, as I said before, Brian doesn’t do almost anything in the episode prior to the big reveal other than introduce himself to the cast, so it comes off as hollow in the sense that Brian only existed before in the episode in service of this not too great twist.

The other, more complex reason why ghost Brian being a big intended whammy doesn’t really work, is with Emil, earlier in this same episode we were already given the scariest possible outcome for this situation in a way.  What I mean by that is kids by the age they’d be watching Goosebumps ultimately know that Ghosts (and or demons from hell I guess with that one shot?) don’t actually exist, but a weird homeless guy living in a shanty in your schools already dark and unsettling basement?  That one is far more grounded in a twisted, bizarre kind of reality. That’s something that kid me would have irrationally been afraid of in a big way, but Emil is quite literally hand waved away before the big finale in order to shift focus onto the ghostly preteen the writers clearly wanted to be the big scare.  Effectively, Brian wastes the well done spooks by attempting to smoothly segue into differently done scares that just plain don’t work, all for the sake of having a big twist.

I guess I get what they wanted to impart with the whole “fire eyes” shot, but it still doesn’t really connect to anything and makes the Brian twist come off as even more sudden and desperate than it already does.

The obsessive need to have a big twist is both one of Goosebumps biggest strengths and most bizarre weaknesses. As I’m sure will come up numerous times during this series of posts, they can either provide a fun cap to an episode, or just throw every hard earned scare into the dumpster for a cheap final shot.  Hell, sometimes they can easily do both of those things at the same time.  Phantom of the Auditorium is unfortunately an example of the twist deflating the effectiveness of the episode proper, but all in all it’s still a solid episode of Goosebumps as a TV show and one well worth watching for an avid fan or a newcomer, just, you know, pay attention to that weird Brian kid alright?  He kinda skeeves me out, maybe we should tell the night janitor about him?

Then they do a really jarring and sudden final shot where the lead just finds a yearbook on the stage that confirms Brian is a ghost?  Where did this yearbook come from and how did she know what page to look at?  That’s a mystery for another day.

[novaimpactgenerator-blog]

MTHTMTE Ch. 3: The Lost Light

Summary

"Yeah, I'm definitely lost." I finally admitted after roaming around the ship for about half an hour. It just seemed like every turn at the end of a hallway led to an identical hall. To be quite frank, at this point I was certain I was just going in one big circle. Like one of those Earth horror movies that Rodimus had sent me while he was on the organic planet.

The humans seemed like a pretty nice race if only a bit morbid, and I would like to go to their planet one day. I still remember the first time he ever showed me one of their infamous films. He had just gotten back to Cybertron after visiting the small blue planet for the first time and said he had something "totally rad" to show me.

These movies were actually how I got introduce to the idea of the female gender.

~Flashback~

"There's no way that house is that big." I stared quizzically at the screen while clutching at my energon treats.

"That's why it's scary." Hot Rod spoke lowly with a mischievous look from his spot next to me on the recharge slab. I watched as the human male and female, as he called it, ran through the dark, abandoned house, trying to get away from the big furry monster chasing them.

Eventually, the two organics found a room with a red door and barricaded themselves in there using a storage unit that Hot Rod called a "dresser".

"I'm so sorry I got us into this, Jason." The female began to cry. "I never should have brought us here."

"It's okay, Elizabeth." 'They have some really odd names.' The male reached over and hugged her close to him. "We'll get through this. Together."

"In case we don't make it out of this, there's something I need to tell you." The female looked up to the male with red, puffy eyes. 'I didn't know organics could change color and shape at will.'

"Don't say that, Lizzy. We'll get out of this."

"Please." The female pleaded. "Just listen."

"Alright." The male gave in.

"Jason, I love you."

"I love you too, Elizabeth." They then pressed their faces together, connecting their lips, and- it looked like they were doing something with their tongues every once and a while. I leaned closer to try and figure out what they were doing, but I had no idea.

"What are they doing, Roddy?" I looked back over to Hot Rod to see him smirking. For a moment, I thought I saw a shade of energon pink on his face, but it must have been the light from the movie because when I blinked it was gone. He took a second to pause the film before answering me and I perked up to listen to him.

"The humans call it kissing. It's how they show affection. Like a bomp, or touching foreheads."

"So it's something they do with their Conjunx?" I tilted my head in thought

"Not necessarily. I've seen them do it with their Amicas too. It's kinda like how some bots interface with their Amicas."

"Oh." I slouched down again as I began to think about it. Even though he was my Amica Endura, I had never done something so intimate with Hot Rod before. Or anyone for that matter.

"Would you... like to try it? Kissing I mean!" Hot Rod asked and corrected himself with highly uncharacteristic nervousness. I was a little caught off guard by his question, but I considered it none the less.

"You don't mind?"

"No!" Hot Rod immediately replied. "Not at all! You're my Amica. I care for you deeply."

"Have you ever... kissed someone before?" I was curious to know, but I wasn't sure if I was using that word right.

"No, I haven't... But I would like to with you." He seemed a little sheepish that he hadn't done it before. This was the first time I had ever seen him so... unconfident.

"Then sure!" I sat up straight with an excited grin. "Let's do it!" I looked over to the viewing screen again to get another look at what to do.

When I thought I had a good idea of how I needed to go about this I turned back to Hot Rod. I moved to sit on my knees between his open thighs and pressed our flat metal chests together, just like the two humans. "Is this okay?"

He didn't respond verbally, but he did nod his head rapidly. He sat up straight so that he didn't need to lean back on his arms for support. Hot Rod then wrapped his newly freed limbs around my waist, pulling my frame flush with his.

I began to get a bit nervous. I've never been this close to another person before in my entire life. This was apparently something that some people do with their Conjunx after all, and I felt my face start to flush pink.

Since it seemed that Hot Rod had decided to take the position of the male I took that of the female and wrapped my arms around his neck. Hot Rod was the first to move from here and I followed suit.

The first brush of contact my lips had with his startled me and I flinched back. I wasn't sure how Hot Rod was going to react that. I didn't want him to think I wasn't comfortable enough with him as my Amica to be like this. However, his carefree chuckle reassured me.

"Heh. Sorry." I apologized, shifting my gaze away from his eyes.

"Don't be. It's okay. Do you want to try again?" Hot Rod tilted his head and gave me a soft look.

"Yeah. It just surprised me. And I've never seen another Cybertronian do this."

"It's mainly a human thing. Is that okay?" He looked like he was becoming more and more unsure of continuing.

"Of course! It's just different. Which isn't a bad thing! I-" I cut myself off before I could start rambling. "I think I'm ready now."

"Hehe. Alright." Hot Rod pulled me flush with him again. This time when our lips met I was prepared.

It was honestly a bit awkward at first, but after a few tries with different angles, we managed to find a good rhythm. I was sure that I had it down. That is until Hot Rod's lips parted mine and his tongue traced my top lip.

This time I didn't pull away despite my shock. I wasn't confident enough to openly reciprocate, but I did move my own tongue to the edge my lips. Hot Rod then resealed our lips and tangled our tongues together.

Now I had no clue what I was supposed to do, so I just let my Amica take over the interaction. This isn't unusual for us. Hot Rod has always had the more dominant personality out of the two of us. It's not uncommon for him to take charge of situations when we're together.

The kiss went on for a while and ended up getting very intricate and heated. At some point, Hot Rod had grabbed my thighs and hooked them around his waist so that I was sitting in his lap. I was beginning to wonder if this is how all kisses go, and if this is what human friends do, then what do human lovers do?

Then Hot Rod's engine revved. We both instantly let go. I pulled back and slid off of his lap, but kept my legs draped over his. "Sorry."

"It's alright. My fans were about to turn on anyway." I reassured him.

"Well, that makes me feel a little better." He chuckled and leaned forward, placing his forehead on my shoulder. I leaned my head on top of his and we stayed like this for a while in comfortable silence. Hot Rod was the first to break that silence. "Wanna continue watching the movie?"

"Yeah!"

~Present~

It was a pleasant memory with my Amica, and it was only later, after watching the other movies Hot Rod sent me, that I found out that human friends do kiss sometimes but not like that. I'm sure Hot Rod didn't know at the time either and must have been too embarrassed to tell me otherwise himself.

Unfortunately, we haven't had the chance to recreate our bond since Hot Rod was reformed into Rodimus. When Hot Rod merged with the Matrix and became Rodimus all ties he had to anyone were severed. I was hoping that this trip would allow us the chance to become Amica Enduras again. 'If he still wants to be that is.'

This time when I turned a corner I decided to start opening doors and hope for the best. The best being Rodimus behind one of them or someone who could lead me to him.

After opening every door down two different hallways, and finding nothing but small storage units, I stumbled upon the hab suites.

"HOW BIG IS THIS PLACE!?" I yelled in utter surprise and lifted my hands up to my head and rubbed harshly at it. I quickly got bored of walking around and decided to choose one of the rooms, so I could set my stuff down and look for Rodimus faster.

The fifth room I looked into seemed nice and everything was low enough for me to use without any hassle. I sat down so that the bottom of the case was flat on the floor and unhooked it from my shoulders and hips.

I got back up and stretched out, turning my abdomen left then right, and then rotating my shoulders. Thanks to my body's nature the box and its contents weren't heavy, but the constant weight on my frame did cause some discomfort after a while, and I was in line for a few hours.

I began to hear the quantum engines startup meaning we were about to leave. "I better go find Rodimus before he thinks that he left without me or that I didn't come."

THE BRIDGE

Rodimus was now in a very foul mood. He didn't want to deal with Nova Gen going back on her word, and he certainly didn't want to deal with whatever Red Alert was saying Ratchet brought on board. He trusted her. Something he didn't do very often.

'The least she could have done was call and make up some half decent excuse for not even showing up. In the past, she would always tell me if she wouldn't be able to see me and why. Ninety percent of the time it was because of her stupid job, but she said she quit.' Rodimus didn't even take the time to realize that she wouldn't do something like that to anyone, let alone to him. He was too upset.

"It can wait. It's time we were off," Rodimus said, not even bothering to hide the anger and irritation in his voice.

"I'm sorry your friend didn't come, Rodimus." Drift came up behind the red mech and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Ultra Magnus spoke up before Rodimus could reply.

"Incoming call from Bumblebee. Want to take it?" Rodimus shrugged Drift's hand off of his shoulder without so much as looking at him.

"No." With that Rodmius gave the command to lift off.

IN NOVA GEN'S HAB

I felt the ship begin to leave the surface of Cybertron, so I made my way to the door. I pressed the button to open the door when suddenly a huge explosion went off somewhere on the ship not too far from my position. I was propelled to the other side of the hab suite by the sheer force of it. Whenever I hit the back wall I could feel throbbing pain spread throughout my head and into the internal neural network of my brain.

Shadows began to creep into the outer edges of my vision, making everything around me fade into darkness. 'Well,'

.

.

.

'That... can't be... goo~...'

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

You can also find this story at these:

Wattpad

AO3

DeviantArt

[jenovahh]

Wild Greens Choke Tended Gardens - Ch. 2 - Antirrhinum (Snapdragon)

This...dream again.

A sky of fire and brimstone.

The air is naught but ash.

Robed figures run for their lives.

A terrible beast lands before him, its many eyes staring him down.

He is without a weapon. Always has been when he dreams of this place.

The beast roars, the people scream, and yet he remains still.

Not out of fear.

Not out of bravery.

“Zenos!”

Someone takes his hand.

It’s so warm in his, so soft.

The monster bellows again, charging an attack.

The hand pulls him out of the way.

“Don’t be so stupid!”

Suddenly he is nowhere and everywhere, time and space stretching out before him in a sea of white. He stands on his feet, dressed in leisurely attire instead of his full regalia.

“What were you thinking?!”

Zenos can’t help but smirk, watching as the dream warps into a lush garden, filled with plants of all kinds, ones certainly not native to Garlemald. The dreamscape tantalizes all of his senses. The vibrant green of the many trees, the feel of the lush earth beneath his feet. The sound of a bubbling creek reaches his ears just as he can taste the freshness in the air.

“I was thinking of when you might show up to rescue me as usual, my friend.” He smiles. Only here would such an action be normal.

“By the gods, you’re so reckless…” his friend sighs, exasperated.

“It is hardly reckless when it has been the same song and dance since childhood.” Zenos murmurs, beginning to walk through the garden. “You know this.” He doesn’t bother to see if his friend follows. He knows they will.

“Careful; one would think you enjoy my heroic efforts.” Their voice is teasing yet...sweeter somehow. More feminine. That's strange, he thinks.

Though he knows it will do him no good, Zenos turns to gaze at his friend, unsurprised that all he sees is mist.

It has always been this way, since childhood as he had said. He would have dreams of the end of a star, of rivers filled with blood, people dead in the streets. Even as a child he had been afraid, unsure what to make of such visions, until he had seen something else like him.

“Don’t be afraid!”

They took his hand then, too.

“I’ll be by your side so it won’t be scary!”

Faceless and formless, he had known this friend since the first time they appeared in his dream, providing him his one and only companion even if it was in his mind. He liked everything about them.

They liked to spar. So did he.

They liked to wrestle. So did he.

They liked to learn about magic, and all kinds of things. So did he.

It was the only piece of childhood Zenos had, born and bred to succeed his father on the Garlean throne.

He chose not to overthink their presence, not wanting to acknowledge whatever implications that this constant mental companion entailed.

Especially when they started being...affectionate.

His mother had passed before he was given the chance to know such comforts, and his father was too busy ruling to do something as simple as give his son a hug. He had known solitude the majority of his life, except for these dreams where he...craved their touch.

As children it had been innocent things such as holding hands as they frolicked through the fields to bone crushing hugs when he would tell them of their accomplishments. Only as he approached adulthood did the tone shift, holding a heated edge he was unfamiliar with.

He hated to admit the fact, not sure when things changed or why they changed. He knew such desires did not come from within; his friend was not a representation of himself. It was almost as if they were their own person, learning and growing with him.

“My friend,” Zenos begins, still staring at their incorporeal form, “what are you?”

It is silent save for the sound of water racing over riverstones, of the wind whistling through the leaves of the trees.

“What do you want me to be?”

The question throws him off kilter, not expecting a question in turn. Pursing his lips for a moment, he thinks of his answer. “You have been my friend since our youth. You are everything I could possibly ask for in a companion, even if you exist only in my mind.”

Their form shimmers for a minute, almost solidifying for a moment. “But what if you have a soulmate?”

He frowns immediately at that, a sense of betrayal weaving through his chest. “You would have me believe in something so preposterous?”

Their form shimmers once again. The dream space begins to warp and tremble, his body feeling heavier.

“Would it be so wrong to be happy?”

He opens his eyes slowly, body feeling heavier than usual. He’d dozed off at his desk again, grunting as he sits up straight, twirling his wrist to release some of the tension.

It is another sunny day in Kugane, able to see the elite walk through the streets below from the comfort of the Garlean consulate. While he had plans he wanted to tend to in Ala Mhigo, his father requested him to be present in the East, and so here he was at the behest of his father. It wasn’t like he had a better way to spend his time.

He hadn’t meant to drift into dreams, lips pulling downward as his sky blue eyes scans over paperwork upon the lacquered table. Sighing, he begins to actually read the documents, seeing more trade routes, more night watch reports, but even then his mind begins to drift back to his dreams.

The concept of soulmates was not new to Zenos. He had heard of it, mostly from savage races, as it was not a common occurrence in Garleans, for they spat at the concept. No amount of destiny could override the value Garlean society held for matches of power, of blending strong, affluent families together. His role as the prince would be no different. His father is sure to have a slew of women of his choosing prepared for him, all of them wealthy, pure blooded, and able to sire an heir.

Zenos was ever grateful for his sire’s continued good health. It delayed the eventuality of having to rule his homeland.

He was thankful he did not have a soulmate, not wanting to be bound to some weakling that was meant for him and him alone. This empty world had already disappointed him enough. Whatever bride he was given could be ignored, much like how his father cast his mother aside. Such a line of thinking filled him with dread and bottomless loathing for the day he would no longer be able to roam the lands in search of worthy prey, forever tied to the cold halls of the imperial palace to rule from a throne.

Something in the reports thankfully catches his eye, leaving him to abandon such a dismal line of thinking. Officers have received word from scouts that the Warrior of Light is making trouble in the Ruby Sea.

The Warrior of Light… he muses. He had heard of them. The one who ended Gaius’ reign thus dumping his occupation in his lap. Savior of Eorzea, ender of the Dragonsong War. 

Eikon Slayer.

Already he could feel his blood rush at the thought of meeting such a powerful foe. Could they be the challenge he had been waiting for?

He had to go and reprimand the Doman wench anyway. He had tasked her with keeping the regions subjugated beneath her heel, only to have the Warrior of Light come and disrupt their hold on the Confederacy, and the Ruby Sea by proxy. If he was quick, perhaps he could even make a slight detour and put himself in the path of this supposed legend.

Standing from his desk he summons a servant to set the preparations of departing for the Ruby Sea in motion. More servants arrive to help him dress in his armor, his thoughts focused on meeting this Warrior of Light. Already he anticipated their duel, impatience sinking its claws into his very being until it became a singular thought.

Unfortunately as the prince, he was required to have an entourage of guards to “protect” his person. He would love nothing more than to track down this legend himself, to enjoy their duel freely. They were more for show if anything, or at least from his perspective, a way to see if those who attempted to approach him would be good sport. Anyone who could be cut down by his guards certainly was not worth his time.

His presence is immediately felt as their ship sails across the sea, but it is not the only thing he feels. The usually radiant ocean is overtaken by a sudden storm, clouds darkening unnaturally, the seas churning fiercely. His eyes turn to the Kojin island where the eye of the storm stares back peacefully, even as his soldiers yell over the winds for him to go back inside. Their intent was to dock at Onokoro, news of the prince surely being enough to squash any potential uprisings, but those clouds...

“Change course for the isle of the beastmen.”

The soldier next to him sputters, surely seeing the storm as well. “M-My lord,”

“I would not question my motives, lest you desire to show how well you can swim in the open ocean in full armor.” Zenos drones, not even bothering to watch as the soldier frantically apologizes and makes their way to the control room to do as he was told.

The rain pelts against his armor, rolling off the polished metal as they draw closer. The ship is big enough to dock at the raised cliff, knowing that the primary method of entrance is via an underwater tunnel. The beastmen he sees already appear frantic, some of them unconscious upon the ground making him wonder if it was the Warrior of Light’s doing. The eye of the storm is calmer as expected, but as he turns his gaze to the sky he notices it is because the clouds begin to part.

The guards deter any Red Kojin from getting any ideas, enabling him to look around the isle for the Warrior of Light. That storm was not natural by any means. He knows they are here.

As he crests the slight incline, they find the responsible party for the defeated beastmen. A young girl and a woman stand surrounded by the turtle-like creatures, the girl with her rapier drawn and the other with her fists upraised, the two of them ducking and weaving through their seemingly endless numbers.

One of his guards moves to draw his sword and with an outstretched hand, he ceases their movements. “Hold your fire.” He orders, feeling as if he’s seen these two before. “I believe the guest of honor will not show if we kill them.”

“Of course, my lord--”

“S-Susano is slain!”

He turns as one of the shelled beasts comes running as fast as he can, not even caring that he nearly bursts through the imperial guard. “S-Susano is slain! Slain by the shell-less one!”

The Kojin all give worried and angered mumbles, the two females eyes finally taking notice of him. “Is that--”

“Zenos?” The blonde one snarls, immediately turning her attention to him. “What are you doing here?!”

While loath to waste his time with this riff-raff, perhaps they can provide him some answers. “The Warrior of Light. Where are they?”

The two women tense immediately, shooting him distrustful glares, immediately going on the defensive. “And what do you want with her?” The younger one hisses, already turning her rapier to him. While weak, even he could admire her tenacity.

“I would be willing to forgive this uprising you’ve started if you can deliver her to me.” Zenos hums, watching as their scowls twist further. “It would be no problem for me to squash this little rebellion underfoot. However, I find myself amenable to cutting my losses, if you can bring me the Warrior of Light.” To help the message get across, he rests his hand upon his revolver. “Something tells me you know her.”

“Because we’ve already met, you fool.”

Attention turns to the newcomer, her blue eyes blazing unafraid as she steps forward. With her robes drenched and her wavy hair all over the place, she looks even worse than he saw her last.

But there is a fire in her eye that confirms his suspicions.

“I’m A’yana Salvia, the Warrior of Light.” She huffs, her tail giving an angry flick. “And you are going to let my friends go, peacefully.”

Zenos can’t help but stare blankly for a moment, unused to the notion that someone felt they could order him around. Especially someone who he had defeated before, granted he also wasn’t in the habit of leaving them alive for them to be so bold a second time. “Oh?” He chuckles, turning to face her fully. There’s not an ounce of bravado in her voice, her stance showing she intends to back up her unspoken threat if he doesn’t release her friends. “Such bravery from someone surrounded by imperials and beastmen. What leads you to believe I would allow your friends to walk away?”

Her eyebrows pinch together as she crosses her arms across her chest. “You had come looking for me, have you not? Sorry to disappoint you once again, but I am the Warrior of Light and the Warrior of Light is me.” She tilts her chin up, looking down her nose at him. “You are strong, but I am willing to lay down my life for my friends. I would do whatever it takes to allow them to escape.”

She is still weaker than him, this he can tell, but there is no denying the set of her jaw, the resolve in her eye. “Tell me then, hero,” he drawls, more interested than he’d like to admit. “The storm that was here but a moment ago. Were you the cause?”

Just as distrustful as her friends, he watches her eyes narrow at him, deciding on whether to tell the truth. “No. It was caused by their primal which I defeated.”

He senses no dishonesty from her, piqueing his curiosity. So, she did live up to her title, the Eikon Slayer. She did not have the strength to best him in battle, but held the power to vanquish a primal…

Smirking, he prepares himself for what he hopes will be a mildly entertaining show. Turning to the beastmen, his tone promises retribution should they fail. “Beastmen. Unless you would have us raze your home to the ground for your failure…” he can’t help but grin as he faces her once again. “....kill them all.”

Hell breaks loose as the beastmen begin to move toward her, the Warrior of Light drawing her globe and beginning to move. Her friends move as well, fighting off the beastmen that begin to attack. His eyes never leave her, observing her each and every move. She is clearly untrained in combat, relying on instinct and adrenaline to keep her head from being cut off. He begrudgingly has to admit that she moves well, moving as if she were a step ahead, confidence in every step she makes as the beastmen fall to her one by one.

Like this, it is easy to see why Eorzea has championed her as such, the Warrior not even breaking a sweat as she fells the Kojin as if they were insignificant obstacles, unworthy of her time.

Is this what he looked like in battle?

“Lyse, Alisaie, run!”

Jolted from his thoughts, he barely moves in time to dodge a spell of hers, though it catches the majority of his soldiers, clustering them together before launching them in different directions. As they gain their footing, he’s surprised to find she’s set her sights on him, knowing just how well their last battle went, and how poorly it could end this time. She seems no less deterred, astrolabe twirling as she slowly dispatches his soldiers.

Such selflessness is wasted on her abilities, he muses, finally drawing his sword. Distantly he hears cannon fire from the North, her friends shouting that the Confederacy has begun to take back Isari. Though obviously reluctant they make a break for it, high tailing it out of the beastmen’s compound.

“Are you so eager to die?” He questions, taking slow measured steps toward her.

“Who said I was going to die?”she sneers, dodging another blow from his men, sending them flying. “All I needed was time.” With an elegant twirl, bright stars blind his vision momentarily, his soldiers groaning in pain. Gritting his teeth, he opens his eyes just in time to see her running away, annoyance hurrying his movements as he takes off after her.

His long strides allow him to catch up effortlessly, drawing his sword to summon lighting that will block her path. Sparks fly as lightning tears through the ground before her, erecting a wall she cannot get past. Her face betrays her feelings, her ire clear on her feline features as he slows to a stop. “I did not think you the type to run.” he calls out to her, enjoying the familiar weight of his sword in hand. “Though I suppose that is the natural instinct of cornered prey.”

“Why are you even here?” She asks, astrolabe still drawn, ears pinned back.

“I had come having heard reports of the Warrior of Light’s presence in these parts…” he hums, watching how her chest rises and falls. Taking a closer look he can see her exhaustion, most likely having used the bulk of her energy subduing the beastmen’s primal. “As I had not read any descriptions of their countenance, I would not have thought a weakling such as yourself could hold the title.”

Her eyes flash dangerously then, and something in him burns bright. He doesn’t know what it is, but he can’t help the smile on his face.

“The Warrior of Light...it makes sense you would run. Surely after being used to vanquishing whatever an enemy sets in your path, you would find yourself lacking after defeat at my hand.”

“Be quiet!” She snarls, tattoos glowing for the briefest of seconds and he hears something snap behind him. He barely dodges a broken piece of coral meant for his head. That’s all the distraction she needs to finally get one spell off on him, the magic nicking his skin uncomfortably before dissipating.

A temper… he ponders, shifting toward her again. “So the Echo isn’t your only blessing...you also have the ability to control vegetation, but not without cost to yourself as I had observed at our last duel.” he muses aloud, giving a swing of his sword. She dodges the wave of magic he sends at her, allowing him to close the gap. She dodges sluggishly, his blade barely slicing the first layer of skin. With a solid kick to her stomach she stumbles, but does not fall. “With blessings such as these it is easy to see why you would struggle against me. You are used to overwhelming your enemies with nothing but pure luck.”

“Shut up!” She roars, tattoos glowing brighter this time as more coral sharpened into knife-like points attempt to skewer him, quick on his feet to evade their attacks. Her eyes shine as he takes in the determination in her eyes, an elation filling him at seeing how desperate she is to kill him.

Her assault doesn’t last for long, her markings ceasing their glow as she collapses to the ground, eyes rolling back in her head. The coral falls to the ground limply, nothing but useless husks without her magic flowing through it.

He moves to see if she’s truly unconscious, until something wet trickles down his neck. Reaching up he removes his helm, the leathery pads of his gauntlets swiping across his skin. Bringing it to his lips, the familiar tang of blood coats the tip of his tongue, the raising of his eyebrows barely perceptible.

Perhaps our gap in power is narrower than I first thought.

His feet move on his own accord, until he stands above her, taking in her fair features. She breathes normally, and while he is no medicus he can still see the exhaustion in her bones. He wonders at her power; what is it’s source? Surely that savage god Hydaelyn cannot bless her with such ability, an ability that seems to take so much out of her. A mystery...

His soldiers finally reach him, having pulled themselves together. “My lord! The savage, have you--” they stop their prattling as soon as they spot her still body on the ground. “Is she,”

“She lives.” he murmurs, eyes not having left her prone form for a second even as he returns his helm to his head.

“Do not bother to sully your hands, my lord. I shall finish,” the soldier doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before he’s slit their neck in a single swipe of his blade, their blood dripping down the metal.

“Pick her up and bring her with us.” He drones, and he can hear them shuffle behind him as they decide who he was speaking to. “Quickly.” he sighs, sheathing his sword as his men move to pick up the unconscious savage from the ground.

He can’t explain his actions.

He did not enjoy killing; it was merely a by-product of battle, a way to punish those who failed him. Such incompetence was not fit to live.

But her…

His eyes have yet to leave her still, blue eyes following her as his subordinates pick her up rather roughly. They split the task between two of them, somehow unable to manage to carry one small woman. It bothers him for some reason.

“Give her to me.”

The two soldiers shuffle back over, one holding her by the legs and another by her arms. He can’t help but roll his eyes even if they won’t see it, stooping to take the woman from their hold and carrying her in his arms. A hunter should shoulder his kill... he thinks, turning to leave the isle.

“M-My lord?”

“Silence. Carrying this savage, this...beast, does not require usage of both of my hands. It would be nothing to sling her over my shoulder and slay you for your ineptitude.” He barks, quieting the soldiers immediately. “I would question Eorzea’s savior-- take her measure.”

Not wanting to be killed for doing something as bold as to question his reasoning, the soldiers all mumble their affirmations and quickly get in formation, making their way back to the docked ship.

His heart feels as if it is racing.

It is a strange feeling, given that even during most of his training he doesn’t even become short of breath. He is in peak physical form, and yet…

He cannot stop himself from clutching the woman in his arms a little closer to his chest.

Even when they board the ship, it is hard to shake the discontent of putting her down in a cell, unsure what to call this magnetism he feels deep within. He deposits her in the holding cell with deceptive gentleness, seeing no need to bind her in chains. They’ve already confiscated her weapon, and there is certainly no plant life for her to manipulate down here.

The Warrior of Light, A’yana Salvia…

Even if uttered within the confines of his own mind, something within him begins to change.

[clowngirlhonkers]

i 100% agree. most backroom lores go from Having a Fun Time with the Boys in the Funny Hee Hoo Office Dimension to "god damn it not ANOTHER smiler >:("

the more bullshit entities roaming around, the less lonely the backrooms feels

WHICH DEFEATS THE PURPOSE OF THE FUCKING BACKROOMS

its SUPPOSED to be isolating. its SUPPOSED to be maddening in the fact that theres no one around you to interact with. its just you and whatever shit you had on your person when you got unceremoniously dropped in

but instead you have to worry about a billion different entities hounding your ass, every single one of which is Edgy Middleschooler Slenderman Proxy OC levels of Spookyscary.

instead of just... being alone with nothing but your thoughts and the clothes on your back, endlessly wandering the disjointed maze of Level 0, hoping that the noise you heard is another living breathing human and not some unknown hellbeast out to get you, hoping that the exit is just around the corner only to feel disappointed when there isnt, hoping you can one day leave this liminal hell and see your loved ones again

but no. we HAVE to have groups of interest, we HAVE to have boring and unoriginal monsters roaming these halls, we HAVE to have a trillion different levels and sublevels and negative levels to be stuck in.

because keeping things blacked out, information obfuscated from the audience and characters, allowing people to not know things, the unknown, has never been scary, right?

it's not like The Unknown is one of humanity's greatest fears or anything

the concept of the back rooms is so interesting and somehow so annoying to me tbh