#but still it is unpleasant. i hope the beasts all crawl away and die

[joziokowalski]

skipped today's classes to spend ages moving all my furniture around to smear the skirting boards with anti cockroach goo. because i never have the energy to do this otherwise and i'm so tired of sharing my living space with these fuckers

[obutsuwrites]

salt water (seamonster!shiggy x f!reader)

summary:  “Of course not! I like talking to you.” Inky black tentacles twitched under the curtain of waves. ‘She’d cower. Make herself as small as she needed to be; pathetic and crawling.’ Tenko grinned at the thought. She was nothing more than meat on a slab.  xxx or the time i write monster shiggy ft. ocean imagery warnings: dubcon, drowning, mind control, tentacle sexey times, vore, smut, oviposition word count: 4,468 taglist: @kaccatus @sadjealouswhore @tenaciousgothstudentauthor masterlist | tipjar | twitter | commission info

The ocean lapped against her knees in gentle waves. It was refreshing and cool; a morning breeze she wanted to submerge herself in and never leave. This was her sanctuary, her home. The ocean -- in its inky blackness -- was almost like a lover. The waves were little arms that entangled around her ankles and upper calves. Simple, harmless flirting until the woman finally took the plunge and allowed the ocean to swallow her whole. She would only tread lightly; growing up in a little sea-side shack carried the reality of her lover; silent waves could shift and evolve into violent tides. 

She squinted as the afternoon sun pierced her eyes. It sat high in the cloudless, cobalt sky. An orange giant that radiated such intense heat, despite the forecast claiming otherwise. The sun was hot against the small of her back; skin exposed and soft. The woman allowed her body to sink further into the salty brine. She shivered at the chill, but it was a welcome distraction from the humidity. As she waded further into the deep, bits of seaweed danced around her legs. Slimy and unpleasant. The woman shoved down her discomfort, it was only temporary. 

She swam apathetic laps. Her body was now accustomed to the chill. In the benign quiet, the woman’s mind began to wander. The sea allowed for more than just cooling off; peaceful and cerebral. After several soft loops, she rescinded herself to float atop the navy sea surf. The woman’s lazy gaze was glued to the sky. Her body was delicately rocked, a lullaby she wanted to submerge herself into for eternity. Sometimes, she wondered if the ocean was capable of violence. To her, it was nothing but serenity and placidity. The woman knew tales of drownings and bizarre, awful sea creatures… However, she had experienced neither within her rather mundane life. Fingers grasped at the azure water, eyes shifting to stare into the great abyss. Despite squinting, the woman couldn’t see to the bottom. She wondered if it was so deep that light simply didn’t refract. 

A crackle sounded off in the distance; the beginning of a storm, she noted. Storms were something she knew all too well. Humidity and the frigid ocean mixed together often to form thunderous, dark clouds that beat against her shack. Angry and fierce.  Eventually, the waves would pick up, as if to respond with equal force to the storm, like two lovers fighting. 

Reluctantly, she began her trek back to shore. Perhaps, she could watch the rain beat on her windows. The wind picked up; the smell of the sea working its way into her nose. Salty and fresh. However, seaweed was strong and wrapped around her ankles. This wasn’t unusual for the woman; the sea could be a difficult lover. The shore was still far away, not even within her reach. Her feet hadn’t even touched the smooth surface of rocks. Slight panic wove into her chest, the sensation tight and heavy. Kicking her legs, the woman tried to swim past the monstrous clump of plant matter. She had done this before. Seaweed wasn’t thick like this and despite her best efforts, her legs were still knotted in the dense foliage. 

The woman continued to kick her legs, the movements morphing into desperation and anxiety. This was foreign to her. The sea wasn’t a maze of fear and panic, yet here she was, arms flailing and face red. 

“H-help!” It was a futile scream; the beach today was empty and she was alone. The sea was going to swallow her and she was alone. Her mind raced with images of her barren skeleton nestled between dead plants and sunken ships. A bleak resting place. 

The sky twisted into a dark caricature of itself; bleak with clouds hiding the sun. Her terror was tangible now as sea foam bubbles seeped into her mouth. Coughs and spit erupted from the woman. Static portraits of her life played like a macabre theater. ‘No! Please no! I don’t wanna die!’ The ocean was a lover scorn; waves began to pick up. The woman feared her body would disappear beneath the current, but the seaweed kept her anchored. Safe. 

Her throat grew dry with cries that fell on deaf ears. This is how she would die; crushed beneath azure crests with an angry sky. She gave up and became complacent in her fate. Tears flowed freely down puffy, coral cheeks. 

Suddenly, she felt a long tendril wrap around her thigh. This material wasn’t seaweed, it was different. Spongey. Organic. The coil traveled down her leg and freed her lower form. 

Breath caught in her throat expanded into the salty, swampy air. “T-thank you!” 

Xx

Fire crackled and the air was balmy; the woman was determined to expunge any cold. Overcast clouds brought in a certain chill, which was only compacted by her waterlogged clothing. Her brassiere had started the slow process of becoming solid again; a fuzzy towel wrapped around jittery shoulders. She believed the suction cup lined tentacle was an octopus. 

“They can be quite helpful. Suction cups are made for -- for sticking.” Truthfully, the sentence was tangible and real for a simple reason; it felt more real. It was far too horrible to believe sea monsters had invaded her paradise. 

Xx

She awoke with a start. Electricity already burning obnoxiously in her veins. The thought was a joke at first; throw out food to the anonymous ocean critter that had rescued her. It was fair. She wanted to repay the kindness. No animal was suited for her sea excursionist. Her love was the ocean firstly; everything came in violent crashes next. Purely no room for animals. However, this being -- this animal. She needed to remind herself it was an animal. Animals can just be smart.

xx

“Like octopi. Or maybe -- maybe a squid.” ‘Octopi’ was a new word; something the woman picked up from long study sessions in the town library. The building was a crypt, dusty and decrepit. Relics from before the second war, chalky volumes of history and academics… but they held the most beautiful anatomical drawings. Precise lines formed into a web of a body on delicate paper. She wanted to rip them from their pages and exhibit the art upon her walls. It was a guilty feeling the woman had to bury. Deep.

Octopi were carnivores, which meant they ate meat. Things like fish, sharks -- even birds. On occasion, the invertebrate would drown their prey. She loathed the vulgar imagery of an octopus immersing a bird into her sea -- into the great blue only to disappear under murky depths. The mental painting seemed so far off -- so  distant from her benevolent savior. 

Xx

There was a certain click in her step, her movements jovial and careless. Her limbs were wire and ethereal. After a masochistic study session, the woman felt confident enough to pursue the octopus. The plan itself was half-baked, but she was… hopeful. Her wallet wouldn’t survive otherwise; she was too naive, trusting and allowed a butcher to sell her a suspiciously warm steak. Little flashes of the overripe meat squirming with maggots skipped through her mind. 

“I hope you like this!” 

She threw the steak into the ocean. A smile had eased onto her face. 

After several minutes a bitter call echoed from the sea. “Not this, stupid.” The voice was scratchy and harsh; like a sweater. Goosebumps developed and her lungs burned. 

‘What an unfortunate sound.’

Xx

Tenko wasn’t a beast per se. He was merely acting on instinct, but he wasn’t all bad. That idiot woman carried a delicious fragrance; her pores were just leaking it. His primal instincts demanded Tenko to clamp his beak over her clavicle. He wanted to peak at her flesh until only ribbons clung to her skeleton… but he was lonely. Tenko was lonely and needed a friend -- needed her. The woman’s cries seemed so inviting. She made pathetic little sounds that were like music to him. He decided to play along, in the hopes of revealing in her fear again. 

Women weren’t unknown to Tenko; they were little sacks of meat that nourished him. However, this wench was something entirely different. She didn’t belong within the predetermined hierarchy and Tenko absolutely fucking hated her for it. Her gestures were carefree and swaying; large hips on full display. The woman wench deserved to know her place. 

‘No one else would do it. It has to be me.’

Xx

An uncomfortable silence inched between them, the steak long gone. The realization wasn’t kind to her. This wasn’t an octopus; this was something worse. Something bad that could speak. Her skin felt slimy and dirty now. She rubbed at her ankles. Waiting for a response was becoming a real experience -- complete with the bells and whistles of anxiety. The woman’s back was on the sea. She refused to greet the monstrosity. 

“I’m… sorry. It’s been so long since I had company.” A soft reflection was in the voice; gentle regret. How could she resist? Tenko was being vulnerable now, if not a little sad. But it was necessary. Feigning humanity would lead his prey in with wide, innocent eyes. 

With a back turned, the woman took a step away from the benign waves. “You talk?” She didn’t want to ask anymore -- she didn’t want to engage the abnormality any further. 

A low whistle crept across the oceanic landscape. 

“Yes. Can we be f… friends?” 

Xx

‘Her little brain must weigh nothing,’ Tenko thought, ‘A stupid broad like her is lucky to even be alive.’ The mortal was braindead enough to put trust in him, he didn’t even have to beg. Well, he didn’t have to beg as much as he anticipated. Her vibrating fear could be felt even within the depths of his domain. Tenko found it pathetic, in all honesty, but saliva pooled at the thought of her. Naked. Afraid. All primed and ready to be devoured… ‘Such a delicate body. It’s really a shame I’ll leave blemishes.’ 

Xx

Within a week’s time, the raspy, sea-salt coated voice was the woman’s dearest friend. Her only friend. It was unnatural at first. The ocean wasn’t sentient, it couldn’t have a soul, and yet something would respond to her questions and ramblings. Always patient and kind hearted. She was curious if the voice was even a sea creature.

‘What if you’re the sea?’

Her mouth opened and closed, mimicking a question. She was curious if the voice had a name. There was certainly nothing offered up; the voice had demanded the woman never swim again -- never look into the great depths. At her sheepish request, the voice shook with rage that trembled and quaked in their words. It was the first time the woman remembered that this voice wasn’t human and maybe it didn’t -- maybe they didn’t function by the natural laws of man. 

A wave bumped against the beachfront. Her name carried off of the breeze, followed by a pause, and then, “What was your question?”

“It’s… uh, it’s stupid, really,” she replied, eyes stuck on her modest shack. Confidence was lacking in her voice; the woman now shrinking before Tenko.

The stench of her was in the water now; Tenko scrunched his face in response. Focusing on her was a part of the plan. His desire for the broad would be found eventually, but he needed to bite down any residual lust that floated around. Her smell was so pungent that it made Tenko’s stomach burn and twist. Like a heated wrench. 

He was growing bored. Impatient. Hunting was never a show like this. Hunting was hunting -- killing and eating with bits of flesh mixing with crimson. The sea looked best like that; bloody, a massacre of sin. Tenko should have eaten her a week before. She was stupid and within his grasp… but he let her go. A mistake he wouldn’t make twice. 

“Of course not! I like talking to you.” Inky black tentacles twitched under the curtain of waves. ‘She’d cower. Make herself as small as she needed to be; pathetic and crawling.’ Tenko grinned at the thought. She was nothing more than meat on a slab. 

His words of encouragement were like a shock to the system. Something was in those words, something the woman craved. Her chest tightened and words washed upon shore, “Can… can I see you?” 

It was a simple question, and yet Tenko hated it. He knew this day would come, but he prepared little in the way of comfort. His face twisted into a scowl as little angry bubbles surfaced. 

“Why? Aren’t you afraid? I can feel your tremors from here.” Tenko wanted to squash her curiosity. This game of cat and mouse shouldn’t end so abruptly. He wanted more play time with his food. Fear was a seasoning that couldn’t be wasted. A precious resource only for him. 

The ocean was quiet now, its rage worn down and tired. The woman looked out into the azure water and tried to gather her remaining courage. Tenko’s voice was unlike the kind tone she was accustomed to; his response was harsh and laced with seafoam. This wasn’t her disembodied companion. This was a creature.

“N-no,” she hesitated. Her words were anchored in her belly. She looked away from the azure abyss, fear creeping into her chest. The woman knew nothing of her companion -- only that he saved her. Surely, he couldn’t be some monstrous bundle of tentacles and eyes. He had to be more… human. 

Silence sat between them. Tenko began to impulsively curl his tentacles. He found the quiet annoying and somehow a little frightening. Perhaps his meal was reconsidering their arrangement. ‘You couldn’t,’ Tenko thought while the sun shrunk behind a cloud, ‘you’re too stupid.’ Befriending him -- feeling sorry for such a gluttonous horror was a fool’s mistake. His heart hummed at the thought of her bare and bloodied. 

The death of their conversation was awkward, if not heavy. Truthfully, the woman blamed herself for it. Feet nestled in warm sand; her mind straying back to Tenko. She knew he was beneath the oceanic canvas. Hidden away. ‘Hiding from me.’ Mournful eyes watched the sea. The day was dreary. No clouds. Sun scorned and resting. The sky held a drab palette; rainbows of blacks and grays formed into being. She wondered if the ocean was ever this ugly. 

Tenko came to his great conclusion; ‘I can eat your pea-sized brain now, can’t I? You’re probably stinking with guilt. So worried about your only friend.’ Slowly, Tenko lifted the tip of his beak into the air. Her pungent rot was like driftwood; moldy and earthy. She sickened him, but his body and mind weren’t one. Two muddled pieces that ached for both devouring her whole, and filling her disgusting guts with him. Tenko wanted to breed her -- watch his mewling little mortal stretch with his eggs.

Tenko’s stomach growled. 

“What -- what’s your name?”

His beak quickly retracted back into the salty brine. In his chest was a heart pounding against his rib cage. She was so close. She was so close. ‘Stupid and trustworthy. You’d do anything for a friend. You’d do anything… for me.’ Tenko realizes this and seizes his dinner bell, “T-Tenko. Can you come into the water?” Saliva pools at the back of his throat, “I’m lonely.”

The voice was heartbroken. His Tenko’s vocal cords were raspy, as if he gorged himself on salt water. A certain note of despair lingered in his sentence. The woman gave one last look into the vast blue before plunging her toes into saline waters.

It was as cold as the grave. Yet the coolness of it was relaxing. Hypnotizing. The ocean was calling out to her, its wet claws draped around her ankles, pleading with her to stay. She thought her ears caught a whisper from the depths; “Don’t go.” 

Everything was falling into his lap. First, she decided to trust him. Then she found comfort. Now, she belongs to him. Every chunk of flesh, every spec of marrow -- all his. He would suck her bones dry and drain her. ‘I’m going to devour you in the worst way.’

Her voice trembled with an alien sort of fear, “Tenko…” Water soaked into her dress, the cotton sticking to her shivering form. “Tenko, I’m scared.” Salt water was plugged into her nostrils. The strong scent was almost nauseating. There was a dull twinge in her heart. ‘Magical octopi,’ she chanted, ‘enchanted animal that speaks!’ Despite her conviction, salivation was unheard. The icy water rested just under her collarbone. Its gentle current nipped at her skin. She suppressed a shiver, keeping her legs kicking. The woman waited until something spongy -- familiar -- grabbed her calf. 

“You’re here.” The woman released a forgotten breath. Her chest was unraveling; the feeling of him was… comforting. This was her friend. ‘He wouldn’t hurt me.’ Her salt stained lips pitched into a grin.

Tenko envisioned violently dragging her squirming body. Little bubbles trailing behind, her last breaths. Gentle face painted into horror. He wondered if she would fight back; maybe pitifully grab at his tentacles? Tenko’s eyes widened in excitement, her legs sending waves. ‘Finally you made it, moron girl.’

His words were like a haunting chorus, “It’s okay,” her name was honey in the air, “Can… can you swim to me?” Tenko sounded cautious, ‘He’s worried about me.’ Her one friend -- her one true friend was concerned about her! The woman’s eyes were bright and alive. A smile played on her lips. Tiny butterflies felt like they were gathering in her chest. Tenko needed her. Needed his friend. The loneliness seemed to melt off while her legs worked against the sea, water splashing in every direction. Her body was numb; skin nothing more than drenched. She noted her dress was slowing her down. Tenko was leagues away -- almost impossible. Yet she persisted. 

His tentacle was the thread guiding her home -- to him. The rubbery flesh was a trail behind her. It was a reminder that Tenko was close, somehow obscured under blankets of briny water. Looking into the blue void made her stomach tangle together in a mess of anxiety. There was an unknown factor -- a certain fear to the ocean now.

Tenko held a delicate grip. ‘I can’t squeeze you to death just yet.’ He hoped the woman’s death rattles were soft, nothing like a dying creature. Tenko knew she would struggle and seafoam would kick into her lungs, but a part of him wanted her to coo at him. Make little creamy pleas. Stuck in his mirth, Tenko began to pull. The sensation was lost on his meal; her mind too preoccupied with determination. Her feet no longer tapped against slimy seaweed. Instead, the abyss greeted her. Negative space gathered. Nothing to keep the woman afloat except for her own flailing limbs.

A rather thrashing limb caught Tenko in the beak. Instinct took over as he yanked the woman. Aggressive and without tolerance. His beak was strong enough for her kick, but the accidental assault felt purposeful. Her lungs filled only once; to scream. Blue fluttered into her line of sight while bubbles erupted into view. Water rushed into her lungs. She managed a cough, salt in her nose. 

The woman fought against the pull. Waterlogged fingers slipping. She clawed at the tentacle as her expression froze in open-mouthed terror. Tenko wished he could see it, but the vibrations of her panicking body would have to do. He wanted to eat her panic. Swallow her whole and stare into the bloody waters she’d create. 

“St-stop… struggling so d-damn much,” forming a sentence was hard. This woman -- this squishy little mortal -- continued to fight. Tenko wished she would claw at scratch at him, fear added a certain spice to his meals, but her insensent kicking must stop.

Tenko releases the woman, her little head shooting up and bobbling amongst the current. Greedy lungs sucked in sour sea air. The saline burned down her throat, but she was relieved. ‘I was going to die. Tenko… Tenko wanted to kill me!’ The realization hits like a sandbag. She has to leave now. This creature, no, this monster was nothing but death. 

Before she can will her tired body, a melody drifts into her mind.

“Please don’t go.” He sounded so mournful. Grief laced into every word. 

She looks into the great blue before responding, “I have to.” Tears brim her eyes, making the world glassy. This was her only friend and yet he wanted to harm her. There was something dangerous to this creature. 

Tenko grew impatient. She should simply accept him as he is. This doesn’t need to be unnecessarily difficult… but she was making it difficult. Couldn’t this broad see Tenko only wanted to fill her half eaten, frail body with eggs? It’s a compliment, an implied attraction, and she just had to ruin it. Her little brain cannot even begin to comprehend the damage she’s done. 

With great effort, Tenko continued his heartbreaking colloquy, “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t m-mean it.” It’s burdensome to speak such lies, even more of a bother to project them into such an idiot. However, Tenko knew this woman had kindness tucked into her heart. She had no other choice but to forgive. “You want to see me, don’t you? The curiosity must be suffocating.”

She did… She had wondered what Tenko looked like; her mind’s eye wasn’t content with a mermaid. The woman had to see him in all of his glory. His voice was mesmerizing, like sharp ocean currents beating against rock. Her heart slowed to an acceptable pace. The organ no longer hammered into her. Her pulse wasn’t in her ears and the only thing in her stomach was an airy bit of hope. ‘Tenko probably hasn’t had any visitors before. I’m -- I’m his first.’ There was a strange comfort in being Tenko’s only friend. 

Something hard bumped against her leg. “Tenko?” She asked, voice small and soft. A vortex of salt water swirled underneath her as a head peaked from beneath a crest of waves. Tenko wasn’t quite as she imagined; her friend resembled a kraken more than a man. His beak was half-way submerged, stringy white hair clung to his worn face. He wore a gentle expression. Her eyes softened at his humanity. Tenko was so close she could smell him. The sharp scent of brine and seaweed permeated the air. A certain warmth settled into her belly. 

“Can I… touch you?” 

The woman nodded. His tentacle -- slimy now -- interlocked around her arm. The appendage was spongy and its suction cups held onto her with care. She melted into his touch while Tenko guided her into his bare chest. She looked up at him, big doe eyes that held nothing but admiration for the monster. ‘A pity,’ Tenko thought, ‘You didn’t really struggle, did you? You want to be full of my eggs.’ Tenko asserted this belief as another tentacle found the small of her back. Another snaked up her waist and landed on a clothed breast. She shivered in his embrace, the frigid water now soaked into her bones.

Ancient words danced in her mind, “Give yourself to me.” No emotion was behind her eyes, no hint of a human. Instead she steeled herself -- perfect and waiting for Tenko. She was a gift for him. Roughly, his tentacles roamed her body. His suction cups latched and unlatched onto bits of sodden flesh. She was mushy and delicate, like algae. Tenko could break apart her body, bone by bone, until she was dust stuck in his suction cups. A hushed mewl fell from her lips once Tenko brushed against a sensitive nipple. Her face was flushed and glistening. There was a crinkle in her eyes; a foreign ecstasy. The woman’s body hadn’t experienced such a fiery, electric sensation before.

“Don’t…” She buries her face in his chest, “don’t stop, Tenko.” It was too mortifying to allow such a divine creature see her like this. Body peppered with pink and chest heaving against him. She leaned into his touch. He kneaded her skin, spongy suction cups tweaking her nubs. Tenko could feel himself begin to swell, tentacles fat and aching. He looked down at her, drool trailing down his beak. 

An eager tentacle harshly grabbed her drenched garment and quickly discarded it to the sea. The woman’s body instinctively shivered, nerves still tender. “Stay still,” Tenko commanded as a tentacle slithered down her stomach, stopping at her waistband. 

“Please.” Her eyes are like saucers, innocent and begging. Tenko indulged and a tentacle stroked her wet cunt. The sloppy noise mixed with her insensent moans. It was a chorus of vulgarity. Tenko, however, made no sound. His vocal chords vibrated with animalistic grunts as he explored her body. Another obscene groan finally encouraged the beast; a single tentacle slipped between her thighs. 

Her pudgy walls gripped his swollen tentacle like a vice. “S-slow down, Tenko.” The woman felt violated. Tenko was going too fast, not allowing for rest. His tentacle plunged into her, prodding her womb. “Stop! It hurts!” The woman grit her teeth while trying to stifle a cry. 

“Quit whining,” Tenko sneered, sharp beak biting down on her collarbone. Iron flooded Tenko’s mouth and a whine played on his lips. She was sweeter than anything -- anyone he had tasted before. Her tainted scent was nothing compared to the meat before him. A piercing yelp sounded from the woman. The shrillness of it only spurred Tenko; his beak gnawing at her open wound. 

An orgy of violence and bliss swirled in her mind, twisting into one. Divinity itself was biting into her and marking her as his own. His fat tentacle stretched her to an almost inhuman degree; her face sweaty and mouth open. Drool pooled into her wound and mixed with Tenko’s spit. She wanted to reach up and touch it, feel the feral brand he left. She adjusted to his size, an unfamiliar hotness gathering between her legs. 

“F-faster, please.” 

Another ethereal voice called to her, carried from the breeze, “You want me to fill you with eggs, don’t you? Say it.”

Dribble spat from her mouth, “Tenko, I want -- please make me fat with your eggs! Breed me!” Painfully, Tenko hammered into her doused cunt, pushing against her cervix, the spongy flesh almost like a pillow. Welcoming. Warming. Wanting him. Her pussy fit perfectly around his engorged tentacle, milking him for every bit of slimy pre-cum. 

“Take my eggs, broad,” Tenko growls as a miry egg sloshes into her womb. 

A cry permeates the air. “Too big, Tenko. Too big,” the woman heaves. Her mind swimming with one simple phrase; “You’ll be such a good moma.”

[re-diesirae]

16. Claire

When she woke up, the room was dark and barely lit by the light of the computer screens. Claire pushed herself up carefully and found Leon sleeping by her side. His hair perfectly combed, and his arms crossed over his chest. She didn't want to wake him, so she remained silent, letting herself get lost in her thoughts. Her headache had gotten a little better, but she wanted those painkillers, just in case.

Claire hated when she woke up in the middle of the night since she could never go back to sleep again. That left her lying in the darkness, thinking of a lot of useless things. That's why she had started staying in the office at night. That way, whenever she woke up in the middle of a night, something that happened often, she would drag herself into the lab and work on her research. She would often find Saya there, and the woman would make her hot chocolate, and they would either end up working the entire night or just casually chatting with Saya. Claire preferred that to the solitude of her apartment.

Well, I can't complain. I do have company. It's just that he is deeply asleep.

Thinking about Leon brought her memories of their earlier chat, and she was mad at herself for blushing when the agent had casually commented that he liked her. She already knew Leon liked her as a friend, so what was she doing getting flushed about it? Unfortunately, she couldn't control her physiological responses. Claire had always liked Leon. Even since Raccoon city, but back then, she had seen him go all over Ada, and she knew he still was all over her. They had had their moments after leaving the city, and she had thought about him often in the later years, but he had somehow become a platonic love, and she was okay with that.

Oh, Claire. You're just cursed. The decent men that you come to love and who care about you are the ones you can never have. She laughed at the irony.

"May gods kill me. What am I even thinking?" she whispered to herself as she looked at the sleeping man.

Ada was lucky; the woman should just swallow her pride and accept Leon once for all. That would make things easier for her. He would be happy, and she'd feel happy for him as well. That was the right thing to do..., right?

"Yeah, because at the end, you'll be alone." that little voice that had come to speak in her head so often whispered, "He will go to his beloved, and even your brother will leave you for his sweetheart. What will be left for you? An empty apartment filled with nightmares that lurk in the shadows and solitude."

Claire shook her head. If that voice was her conscience, she seemed to have a pretty rotten one, but maybe that inner voice wasn't wrong after all. Leon and Chris would make their lives someday. They wouldn't be agents forever, and when that happened, she would probably be in the way, but who was she to stop them from being happy? If Chris wanted to marry, she'd approve it. The same with Leon, even if it was that infamous spy.

"But you know you don't like it. You don't want him to go to her."

"Ugh, shut up," she mumbled, rubbing her temple.

" He likes her much more than he'd ever come to like you, even though you loved him that much."

Claire shook her head, trying to push away that annoying little voice.

"Pathetic, aren't you? Loving someone you shouldn't. It's your curse, maybe, Leon knows it too. All those who have come to you have died, one by one like Steve, like Piers, like Neil,"

Why did it have to mention Neil?

"Loving you would drag him to death. He'll die….painfully, just like they did."

Claire rubbed her head, maybe stronger than she had intended, but the pain made it hard to hear the voice, and that was a good thing, but suddenly, she felt a couple of warm hands grabbing hers and forcing her to stop.

" Hey, stop that…" Leon whispered, "You'll hurt yourself."

" Leon? I am sorry, did I wake you?"

"Don't worry about that. What happened? "

"I…"

I had an unpleasant conversation about you with my subconscious. Yeah, tell him that, so that he can take you for crazy.

"I had a nightmare... I have them pretty often. Sorry, I didn't warn you about that."

"Want to talk about it?"

"I'll rather not."

She stared at her hands. Leon was still holding them, and she cursed herself for wanting to stay like that for a bit longer.

Get a hold of yourself, Claire. You are not a teenage girl; you're a grown-up woman in a pretty bad situation. You can't be wasting your thoughts and energy on these stupid things.

Unfortunately, Leon wasn't helping. The man was rubbing her hands with his thumbs, a gesture that probably wanted to soothe her. He was worried, and she felt a pinch of guilt; she could at least try to tell him a part of what was making her uneasy.

"Neil…" she muttered.

"What?"

"Neil Fisher. My nightmare…" she lied. She felt bad about lying, but well, it wasn't entirely a lie. Part of her reaction was related to him, after all.

She felt his gaze staring at her, but he didn't reply as he waited for her to continue.

"I guess you might call it a trauma. Neil was a nice man, and for the first time in years, I thought I had found someone. It was stupid of me. I let my guard down. "

"You loved him?"

Love? She had liked him, yeah, but it couldn't be called love. They had things in common, and she had found his company pleasant, but their relationship never went beyond that. She somehow grew attached to him, and then she had thought that, maybe, something could happen there. How wrong she'd been.

"I don't think I would call it love. There was affection, but not real love. Call me old fashioned, but I am the kind that thinks there's no real love than the first. Neil was. someone special and what he did, god, it just tore me apart in so many ways."

She was honest. Neil's betrayal hurt more than anything. Neil broke her trust, the respect she felt for him, and she felt cheated. Maybe, to some, it would sound exaggerated, but to her, his betrayal had touched her deeply.

"It just….keeps tormenting me. I can't see anyone without thinking if that person would do the same. I just…., I recommended him for the job. He had experience, so I thought that he would do a good job, but if I think about it. Maybe if I hadn't, all that crap that happened would have never happened and, everyone: Pedro, Gabe, Edward, and Gina; they would all still be alive…"

"What happened was not your fault."

"It somehow was. I mean, Neil had access to our information because I rejected the spot and recommended him instead. If I hadn't been so biased about him.."

"You couldn't have known. Claire, you made a mistake, but it wasn't your fault. Some people are just good at hiding who they are. There was no way you could have foreseen what he planned."

"I guess… you might be right. I am sorry, I can be silly at times."

"Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks, Leon." she said with a friendly punch on his arm, "What times is it? Chris is certainly late, or it's just me?"

"He is late. It's 4 am. It'd be dawn soon."

"Ah...I think I've never been so grateful about sunlight."

"Not a morning person?"

"I am more a night owl, but mornings are okay, though. Do you think they'll bring us breakfast?"

"Who knows," he snorted, "But I'm sure they bring us some nice guns."

"They better do." she laughed, "I shouldn't complain. This little one saved my life enough times…"

The woman looked at the old rifle she'd picked on the village. The thing was old, but it had worked well until now. Still, she'd rather have something a little more powerful if she was to enter the underground facilities.

"But the girl is old. I don't know if her firepower will be enough for whatever is inside that laboratory."

"You tell me. I miss my guns."

"Don't worry. I can persuade Chris about sharing his toys."

"No doubt about that. Chris would never refuse that look."

Claire winked at him with a smile. She knew Chris had a soft spot for her, and with the years, she'd learned to use that to her advantage.

"What about you? Can you refuse it?" she laughed.

Leon meditated on his answer. His lips curled in a mischievous smile.

"Guess that would depend."

Claire rolled her eyes, ignoring the man's soft laughter. She pushed herself up and walked to the computer once more. Claire had skipped the night surveillance since she'd been tired, but now it was a good time to look through it. She had trusted that the facility security system would keep them safe.

"Signs from our little friend?" Leon said, approaching her after checking his gear. It seemed to be a habit of him, perhaps acquired with the years since she'd not seen him do that before.

" Let me see….well, look at that. Our ugly friend is finishing its diner-breakfast. Ugh, not something I fancy watching the first hour in the morning."

The image on the screen was nasty, and she knew that if that screen had not been a security camera, the screen would be a bloody mess. The B.O.W was the same that had attacked them in the cave, or at least the same type of beast. She felt chills as she stared at the same spider-like body crawl through that corridor, the claws on its front limbs impaled the bodies of some unfortunate Carriers.

"This thing intrigues me. I hope we can gather more information about it."

"I just want to know what it is and how I kill it. That's enough for me."

The redhead couldn't help but laugh about the boldness in his statement. Maybe it was that deadpan tone he had used, but she had found his words amusing.

"Do you think that's the one who attacked us?"

"Hard to tell. For all we know, the place could be crawling with those." Leon replied, shaking his head, "That's why I said what is it, and how do I kill it."

" I got you, Leon. If I figure that out, you'll be the first to know; but it's the first time I see B.O.W.s that "eat" B.O.W.s. I mean, I know there are some specimens that are extremely hostile to their kind, but to feed on each other?"

"These people are sick, so I wouldn't be surprised if they did it on purpose."

Claire was thinking of any reason why Neo-Umbrella would want to create a mutant who fed up with other mutants when a soft beeping interrupted her line of thought. She realized it was Leon's communicator when the man pulled it out from his pocket and answered.

"Hunnigan. It's so good to hear from you again."

" I can say the same thing, Leon. I got contacted by the B.S.A.A Alpha team just a while ago. They'll be arriving at your location within some minutes."

"Sure, they can take all the time they want. It's not like we'll be going anywhere."

"Funny, Leon. It's nice to see you still have your humor," Hunnigan said, amused.

"Well, someone needs to keep the mood up."

Hunnigan snorted.

"Anything important that we should know?" Leon said, "The jammer disconnected us from the rest of the world, so how about an update?"

"Well, I think I can fill you up with all the recent events, and perhaps you could do the same."

"Sounds fair. What do you have to tell, Hunnigan?"

"Is Ms. Redfield with you? I believe this might be of her interest, as well."

"She's right here."

"72h ago, exactly two hours after your disappearance, there was a bioterrorist attack launched over Hughesville."

"What?"

Claire was staggered in horror. There had been an attack in her city? Hughesville wasn't even a big city, so why would terrorists target it? Was that her fault, too?

"Luckily, I was informed by a TerraSave contact that there were few casualties. Most of the people of the city had successfully evacuated in the first 3 hours following the first attack thanks to the emergency procedure that Ms. Redfield had implemented some months ago."

"The Aganisia Procedure…" she whispered, " God, so it worked as it was supposed to."

"Yes, Ms. Redfield, and from what I heard, the results were satisfactory."

"If Aganisia activated, it means Anathallis got set into motion, as well. Did the B.S.A.A take the emergency call in time?"

"I was going to that. Indeed, B.S.A.A squads were deployed even before the first report of the bio-attack was done to the authorities."

"Oh, god. So it worked," she sighed in relief, "We've not used the procedure in real situations, only on simulations, so I was worried it might not work in a real context."

Leon looked at her quizzically, but she motioned at him, articulating a silent "Explain it later."

"It worked well, Ms. Redfield. You should be proud. The government wants to contact you once you have returned to the US, to talk about the possibility of implementing it in other cities, but we can discuss that later."

"So, what about the attack?" Leon asked.

"Yes, of course. The B.O.W.s used in the attack are from the C-virus. B.S.A.A managed to suppress most of the small scale weapons without major losses. However, the bigger ones represented a major challenge."

"So, they use C-virus Bioweapons? Damn, so Neo-Umbrella is still mass producing them."

"Mostly, yes. The attack was under control. However, a second attack launched late in the evening. This time, the attack forces included a new kind of B.O.W."

"A new...kind?"

"An unidentified specimen. It was suppressed by B.S.A.A elite Alpha Team."

"Chris…" Claire and Leon muttered at the same time.

"Yes, Mr. Redfield and his companions dispatched the entity after finding B.S.A.A Betta Team completely decimated."

"What did the B.O.W look like?" Leon asked, and Claire realized that the man was thinking the same as her. Could that new B.O.W be like the ones they had found in this place?

"I ...I don't have the details about that, I am sorry. I haven't received the report yet."

"That's fine, Hunnigan. Is the attack still on?"

"Yes, however, it seems that B.S.A.A. is handling it well. "

"Well, that's great. "

"That's all I have to report at the time being. It's your turn, Leon."

"There's not much I can tell you. We are in an isolated area. Judging by the vegetation, we are in highlands, and according to Claire, somewhere in Germany. The locals have been all infected with Plagas, but I have no idea which strain. There are also new B.O.W.s, but I can't tell if they'll match with the one seen in Hughesville. They're extremely violent and hostile with anything that moves, including other infection carriers, so we've tried to avoid confrontation. One of them found us last night. We barely made it alive…"

"Leon, that's terrible. Is any of you hurt?"

"We've been better, but it isn't anything serious: scratches and some bruises. We noticed a behavior pattern in this B.O.W.s. Their movement seems restricted to nighttime, and they seem to feed on other infection carriers. We reached a facility where we believe the responsible were carrying their research. I manage to inactivate the jammer that was interfering with communication, and so we can look for information once Chris's team arrives."

"Understood. I shall inform the higher-ups about this. Leon, be careful. I know it isn't an official mission, but…"

"Don't worry, Hunnigan. I consider it official."

"Okay, let me know if I can help with anything."

"Sure."

Claire watched him put down the command, look at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Care to explain it now?"

" Aganisia is the emergency evacuation protocol I designed for TerraSave. Once it sets in motion, it automatically starts the Anathallis procedure, which is a direct notice and deployment of B.S. anti-terrorist troops.

"I get it. Any particular reason about the names, though?"

"I… I like orchids," she shrugged. There was no deep reason behind the names. At that time, she had seen the flowers, and she found the sound of the name appealing.

"Orchids?"

"Well, what's wrong with that? Orchids are pretty."

Leon couldn't stop himself from laughing, and Claire just smiled shyly.

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! JOIN SERVER

[starfiretheninja]

BBRae- Shaking Off the Dust

This was originally a piece for the BBRae Zine, but that got cancelled. Regardless, I was proud that I got another piece done for these two and still want to bring it into the world. Enjoy!

~

Despite being part demon, a creature associated with darkness, Raven had a standard sleep schedule. The headaches induced from staying up too late tended to aggravate her powers and often required a longer meditation session to alleviate. On this particular night, however, the trilogy Raven was close to finishing was simply too much of a cliffhanger to leave until morning. Her extended reading session paid off, as the book ended on a surprisingly non-cliché and satisfactory note and she was only suffering from mild thirst.

Nothing a little tea can’t cure, Raven thought as she stood up, stretching her tense legs.

Leaving the quiet of her room, she noticed a dim light down the hall. Shuffling past Beast Boy’s room, she blinked wearily at the light that peeked out from under his door. Only unintelligible mumbling sounded from inside. Raven shrugged, figuring he was up late playing a tough level of Mega Monkey: Apes Rising on his GameDude console again. He hadn’t done that in some time, but old habits die hard.

With that, Raven continued on her way. Having made it to the kitchen and satisfied her parched throat with warm herbal tea, she came back past Beast Boy’s room. This time, she heard a yelp, followed by the crashing of Beast Boy and what sounded like a stack of comic books hitting the floor.

Raven sighed. She couldn’t let that go uninvestigated. At the very least, she felt she had to know if Beast Boy had managed to break a toe tripping over his massive collection of nerdy treasures again.

Opening the door, she spied Beast Boy rubbing his face. Around him were his possessions, pulled from his closet and tossed around the room in what, to her eyes, was a haphazard mess. The garbage can in the corner was stuffed well past the brim with dolls—action figures, as he insisted—that Raven was certain he had had since the Tower was first built. Beast Boy caught sight of her. Surprised, then sheepish, he attempted to stand amidst the scattered pile surrounding him.

“Care to explain what you’re up to on this once peaceful night?” she inquired as he morphed into a hummingbird, flitted over the pile, and returned to his human form right in front of her.

“I’m, uh, cleaning up a bit,” he said, clearing his throat.

“If by ‘cleaning’ you mean ‘purging your room of all of your cherished comics and collectibles’.”

“If you’d like to help, then it would get done quicker. Heck, you could pick it all up with your powers.” He gestured towards the remaining work. Raven didn’t take the bait.

“I’d rather not be partially responsible for the post-cleaning regret you could have.” She took a pointed look at his belongings, as if to emphasize just how much he was suggesting tossing out.

“Aw come on, Raven.” He picked up a random comic by his feet and waved it. “Do you really think I’ll miss Goo Goblins #37? I think I’ve moved on past that one.”

Raven shrugged in slight agreement. The admittedly campy-looking comic was certainly goofy enough to make a seventeen-year-old question if he was engaging in appropriate level material. Still, Beast Boy was always one to cling to childish endeavors.

“If you insist,” is all she could comment. If he was truly ready for such an adjustment, she wouldn’t be the one to stop him.

Grinning satisfactorily, Beast Boy took to scooping up his disheveled comics and setting them in lumps just outside his room. Raven stepped further into his room to allow him through the open door.

“I’ll just set these out here for now. Then I can get them into boxes and maybe even pass them out to some kids at their schools. I know a few Dirty Dan fans who would kill for some of these issues,” Beast Boy thought out loud, already beaming at the thought of making a kid’s day.

“Just as long as their parents don’t object,” Raven snarked, hoping that Dirty Dan wasn’t about a kid who refused to take a bath. The last thing Robin would want was a surge of complaints from parents claiming they were bad influences on the youth.

Watching Beast Boy’s slow progress, Raven’s curiosity got the better of her and she leaned down to investigate what kind of reading Beast Boy had invested himself in for all of these years. There were plenty of brightly colored covers of fictional superhero groups. Why these were written when literal superheroes saved the world was beyond her. Beneath that was a handful of light horror, with cartoonish monsters chasing hapless teenage victims. Perfect for a demographic who hadn’t witnessed literal demons in their lifetime. Next was . . .

Raising it up for a closer look, it dawned on her just what she was holding.

“Wait, is this-?”

“Crud! My bad!” Beast Boy rushed over to carefully take the book from her hands. “This must have been mixed with my Deranged Daredevils collection. I wasn’t going to throw this one out, promise.”

Beast Boy reached over her to place the book on the singular chair in the room. So far, the supposed ‘safe’ pile consisted of childhood classics, Insect Care for Dummies, 1001 Drop Dead Puns, and a few wildlife encyclopedias. The newest addition was gifted to Beast Boy by Raven for his first birthday after the team had formed. Back then, she hardly knew him, but didn’t want to deny him the joy of receiving a gift from someone he always reached out to. So, she decided on something that could either come across as a gag gift or a genuine appeal to his interests, despite her complete uncertainty on whether or not he would appreciate it.

When he ripped open the packaging and read the title, The Essential Calvin and Hobbes, he lit up.

“Oh, cool! I’ve read some of these before! I don’t know half the words that come out of the kid’s mouth, but the tiger is pretty cool! Thanks, Raven.” He gave her a classic toothy smile and Raven was admittedly relieved that he didn’t reject the gift or feel any disappointment.

That was years ago, though. Was he still so attached to that particular book? Raven had given him far more personal gifts since getting to know him on a more familiar level.

“Why is that one an exception?” she posed the question as he squatted next to the pile she was looking through.

“Hmm?” Beast Boy looked back for clarification, and a light bulb went off.

“Oh! That’s easy. Because you gave it to me. You probably knew I wouldn’t get half the jokes, but you took a chance anyway. Maybe I’d get it eventually, you know?” His voice trailed off at that last statement.

There it was. Something truly was nagging at him, then. That something had pushed him to embark on a spontaneous cleaning spree to either distract or remedy. While Beast Boy was, oddly enough, the toughest one on the team for her to read empathetically, he was normally easy to understand by his actions alone. However, she had noticed a pattern with him over the years. He was the best at wearing a mask. Robin attempted to remain stoic, but one could still tell what he was feeling. Beast Boy, on the other hand, played pretend. Concealing aggravation and hurt with a stream of jokes was his fallback. This left him with buried sadness, which was never good for the long-term psyche.

Considering how to approach the situation, Raven supposed prodding him a bit would perhaps bring more clarity as to the cause of his distress.

“Hmm. I figured your vocabulary would expand.”

“When, though?” Beast Boy let slip out. He asked so sullenly, the way that a child would when they were seeking approval. Raven recognized this tone from her time spent with Melvin as she began her early teen years. The girl wanted more independence, but a part of her still sought to know that Raven was proud of her in everything that she did.

Upon realizing his slip-up, Beast Boy’s eyes darted around the room. He nabbed a toy from the pile before him and held it up.

“Does this one bring back memories or what?” he chuckled, beaming a large smile. It was the singing monkey with the cymbals that sounded while Raven’s manifested fear chased the Titans throughout the Tower.

Raven sighed softly. That was a poor diversion and he knew it.

“Beast Boy, why are you doing this?” she queried, gesturing around the room. “This ‘spring cleaning’ is too out of character to come out of nowhere.”

“Can’t a guy want a little more walking room?”

“Not when it involves pretending that nothing’s wrong.”

Raven’s eyes met his. He held contact for mere moments before the façade cracked.

Beast Boy’s false smile slowly dropped. He knew he shouldn’t be hiding from her. Raven was one of his best friends, after all.

“’s not a big deal,” he mumbled, looking away.

“It is if it’s bothering you,” she responded, gently touching his shoulder to get his attention. Beast Boy turned back to her, setting the monkey down.

How would he start?

“It’s kind of complicated.”

Raven had the time for him.

“Then start from the beginning.”

With that, Beast Boy sat back, leaning his cheek on a propped-up knee. Raven lowered herself into a crisscross, fully facing him. He took a few moments to collect his thoughts, memories reflecting clearly in his eyes.

“Back, ah, with the Doom Patrol, I was just a kid when Mento started training me. He saw that my powers could be controlled and used for the greater good. And I wanted to be a hero! I wanted to help others. But I wasn’t used to getting shot at or transforming so much I passed out. It was rough for a while. And I messed up. A lot.

“Mento never let me forget any of the mistakes I made, even long after I learned from them. Sometimes, it took longer than it should have to learn, but I eventually got it. But that wasn’t good enough for him. It was for Rita, but Mento was the one in charge, so there was never an end to it.”

Beast Boy exhaled, stopping for a moment to likely push away memories that were crawling out of unpleasant depths of his subconscious.

“And that’s part of why you left?” Raven prompted.

“That was a big part of it. Just one day decided that I had enough, and I thought I could grow stronger if I became the sidekick of someone who could actually help me build on when I did something right. And when I met you guys, things were finally different, and everyone could rely on me in a fight. That felt good and I thought that maybe I wasn’t a total screw up after all. But today, with the mission I just- I messed up really bad and I knew what I did wrong right as it was happening.”

Oh.

Raven and Starfire had split off from the boys to tend to another emergency and didn’t hear back from them until after their mission was complete. Robin had seemed somewhat frazzled, but otherwise they had been successful as well. She hadn’t heard about any particular difficulties on their end.

Beast Boy continued on, his frustrations spilling out at this point.

“I mean, Robin and Cyborg were able to fix it, but Mumbo almost got away. We had him, but I slipped up and he did a lot more damage before we nabbed him again. That’s the kind of dumb mistake I made when I was just a kid, except back then, people died.” He nearly choked on his last words.

Raven’s thoughtful expression instantly morphed into a mixture between solemnity and shock. She had no idea he carried such a weight.

“Beast Boy . . .”

He let out a humorless laugh, his eyes unfocused and unwilling to meet hers.

“Do you ever just . . . get frustrated that you haven’t changed at all? Sometimes I still feel like the kid that can’t follow an order without screwing something up. I’m trying to get better at my job, but that’s not enough when lives are in danger,” he agonized, reaching up to grip his hair in his fist.

His emotions were beginning to overwhelm him. Beast Boy was so used to holding these demons in that he didn’t know how to handle them when they reared their ugly heads. And he hated himself for dumping his worries on Raven. She didn’t need to be dragged into his problems; he should be able to handle them on his own by now.

However, one fact that Beast Boy forgot was that Raven was a healer. She knew that part of the healing process included recognizing the hurt so one could fully recover.

“Beast Boy, you’re right to feel frustrated over this.” Raven began gently, so as to properly acknowledge his despair. “But you have grown up through the years that I’ve known you.”

“Today might prove you wrong,” he sighed defeatedly.

“One bad day doesn’t always indicate a pattern. Failing to react well under pressure happens to even the most disciplined of people.”

“Does it happen to you?”

Raven blinked. Where did that come from?

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always so in control and know what to do. I just don’t know if I can ever be as level-headed as you are.” Truthfully, though he complained about her supposed standoffishness when they first met, Beast Boy always admired her ability to remain calm. She could be cranky at times, but Raven was the Titan to turn to when you needed sage-like wisdom and a calming presence.

“. . . Not always.”

Beast Boy paused. He met her earnest and somewhat hesitant eyes. Where did that come from?

Raven pressed her lips tightly together, then, ever so slowly, began to speak.

“Sometimes . . . I think that I’m still as much of an isolated shut-in as when the team formed. You guys understand my snark, but I still go too far at times and I can tell the others don’t want to tell me that I hurt their feelings. We all struggle with insecurity, Beast Boy, no matter how well we hide it.”

Beast Boy leaned toward her, resting a hand in the space between them.

“You’ve grown so much though, Raven. I’ve noticed how much more you smile nowadays, and you actually talk to us about what you’re thinking about. I don’t think you would have been caught dead in my room like this when we first met,” he cracked a small smile, realizing just how intimate their situation was.

Raven relaxed, quietly grateful that the Beast Boy she knew was reemerging.

“No, I wouldn’t have.”

Now it was her turn.

“But the same goes for you. You take initiative when it’s called for and frankly, some of your strategies are the reason we make it through rougher battles.”

“Name one time,” Beast Boy held up a finger, still not entirely convinced.

“The initial charge against the Brotherhood. Morphing into a jellyfish to filter Scarecrow’s fear gas. Disabling that bomb as a cockroach so you wouldn’t be detected or incinerated,” Raven listed off confidently.

Beast Boy looked down, pondering her words. His shoulders relaxed and a soft smile slowly crept up onto his cheeks.

“Huh. I guess that was pretty mature of me,” he chuckled.

“You know,” she started, peering her head down to catch his eyes once more. “If you’re so worried about making mistakes, maybe talk to Robin about changing your training routine. Having variety might help your ability to react appropriately to any situation.”

“Yeah. That’d probably be a good place to start.”

“Also,” she began, gesturing to the mess around them. “Growing up doesn’t mean getting rid of your childhood joys. It just means you step up without being asked to.”

“I suppose you’re right. But I’ve been meaning to clean up for a while. Kind of hard to stay focused with so much clutter in your room.”

“Maybe leave it until you get a good night’s sleep,” she suggested.

“Eventually, but first there’s something I want to try.”

“And that would be . . .?”

Beast Boy reached back and grabbed the treasure that had sparked their night of revelations.

“Giving this book a try.” He waved the Calvin and Hobbes compilation before her. “You’ve granted me so much wisdom just now, I must have aged a few decades mentally. That is, if you’re not too tired.”

His hopeful expression was too much to pass up, especially at a time when he had opened up so much to her. It was out of character, but Raven was willing to give it a shot.

“I think I’m up for a little humor.”

Beast Boy mock grabbed his heart.

“Such an anomaly only comes once every other blood moon, so I’ll have to cherish you discovering your sense of humor.”

“The anomaly will pass faster the longer you talk about it.”

“Got it.”

They sat on the floor together, each holding one end of the book. Page by page, Beast Boy laughed outwardly at Calvin’s incessantly precocious dialogue. His eyes lit up as he brushed Raven’s shoulder, giddy to share the joke with her. Raven, in return, chuckled at Hobbes’ playful antics and allowed Beast Boy to see her rare carefree expressions.

What happened next truly made their night. The punchline was perfectly worded and timed for the both of them and they shared a singular moment of genuine laughter. Raven’s only a brief chortle and Beast Boy’s a lengthier guffaw, but the laughter of two friends nonetheless.

Raven could have denied the moment and blamed her increasingly delirious state. But she wasn’t about to deny Beast Boy the rare opportunity to have made her laugh. After all, sharing this moment with him was the best feeling she had all day.

[for-a-flower]

Close Call

           Flowey pushed up through the ground in a dark cave behind Frisk.  He watched from shadows as the human entered the next area.  There was a stream running through the cavern.  Frisk glanced over the flowing water for a moment then approached some lily pads near the far corner.  Flowey's stem bent as he snickered quietly.  "He's gonna go right to the barrier and die to Asgore like every other stupid human before him."  Flowey grinned.  "And then when Asgore tries to take his soul, I'll come in and grab all seven!  Stupid king won't know what’s coming."  Flowey scowled.  "Serves him right for not listening to me in the first place."  Frisk placed lily pads in the stream in order to reach a sign near the bridge he had crossed earlier.  The sign read, Congratulations.  You failed the puzzle.  Frisk sighed then began pulling the plants out of the water again.

           Flowey shook his petalled head and smirked.  “Idiot,” he whispered.  "Wait.  If Chara does have something to do with this, she probably doesn’t realize it’s me.  Which means I'll probably need to show her to convince her.  But I can't do that until I get a soul.  So what do I do?  Hm . . .”  Flowey paused, his eyes drifting down.  “Should I wait until I finish my plan then bring her back and reset the timeline?"  He nodded.  "Yeah.  That sounds good."  Flowey watched as Frisk solved the puzzle and continued through the cave.  He frowned.  "What am I saying?  Chara probably has nothing to do with it.  Just wishful thinking.  Doesn't even matter anyway," Flowey grumbled.  He sunk into the ground again.

           As he walked slowly, Frisk stared at the cave ceiling above.  It was covered in blue crystals, twinkling softly almost like stars in the night sky.  The child noticed a plaque mounted on the left, rock wall that had blue letters.  It read, Wishing Room.  The letters were glowing with a magical light.  There was a tall blue flower standing to the right of the sign.  Frisk stepped toward it as it whispered softly, as if he was hearing a past conversation.

           "A long time ago, monsters would whisper their wishes to the stars in the sky.  If you hoped with all your heart, your wish would come true," it said.  "Now, all we have are these sparkling stones on the ceiling."  Its soft voice echoed through the cave before fading.  Frisk sighed.  He could sense sadness in the monster’s voice.  He wanted to tell them that it would all be okay one day.  They'd find a way out.  They'd be free soon.  The little human looked further ahead and saw a few more Echo Flowers.  He approached the next which had grown on the right.

           It spoke with a voice louder than the last.  "Thousands of people wishing together can't be wrong!  The king will prove that," it said.  Frisk passed the flower, stepping toward the next which stood beside a fourth.  "Come on, sis!  Make a wish!" said the first.  "I wish my sister and I will see the real stars someday," whispered the other.  Frisk frowned then glanced beyond them.  One last Echo Flower stood in this part of the cave.  Almost feeling the hopelessness of the monsters as well, Frisk moved over to the far corner of the cavern where the last blue flower stood alone.

           It spoke in a soft, sad voice like that of a hurting child.  "It's not fair.  Why can't things be like they used to be?" it said.

           Frisk sighed, reaching out to feel the velvety, blue petals of the flower with a small hand.  "Someday," he said.  "Someday it'll be better.  Just don't give up."  He lowered his hand as a gentle breeze brushed by him from the left.  Frisk glanced that direction.  There was an opening along the rock wall.

           "Someday . . . someday it'll be better.  Just don't give up," the Echo Flower whispered.

           Frisk managed a smile and nodded.  He continued on, leaving the flowers behind.  The human exited the small cave into a large, open cavern.  Its floor was completely flooded with water, the exact depth of it unknown.  A large, wooden bridge extended before Frisk.  It led to a large cliff face that rose from the water.  Frisk casually started across the bridge, glancing over the water’s surface.  He could see tall reeds and water sausages scattered sparsely, meaning the water couldn't be very deep.  He reached the cliff and followed the bridge along it.  He put a hand on the rock to feel it as he went.  It was surprisingly smooth.  Frisk glanced at his hand and stopped suddenly.  The wall was covered with ancient, carved writings.  The child hurried back to the beginning to attempt reading them.  There was a label before the text that read, The War of Humans and Monsters.

           Struck with interest, Frisk read the writings to himself.  "Why did the humans attack?  Indeed, it seemed that they had nothing to fear.  Humans are unbelievably strong.  It would take the soul of nearly every monster just to equal the power of a single human soul."  Frisk paused to think about that.  "Whoa," he whispered.  He moved on to the next section.  The words were hard to make out in the dim light.  "But humans have one weakness.  Ironically, it is the strength of their soul.  Its power allows it to persist outside the human body, even after death."  Frisk nodded slightly in understanding and moved to the next part.  "If a monster defeats a human, they can take its soul.  A monster with a human soul . . . a horrible beast with unfathomable power."  Frisk reached the end of the wall to find an illustration carved deep into the rock.  He observed it closely.  There was something very unsettling about this drawing.  The monster depicted here strangely resembled Toriel.  It was furry, wore a similar robe and had two horns on its head.  But its horns were much longer than Toriel’s.

           Frisk stared several seconds trying to make sense of it.  He had only seen one monster so far that looked like Toriel . . . and that was Toriel.  So who was this?  Someone related to her?  Someone from her past family perhaps?  Frisk shook his head and continued on.  The bridge was wide and lead forward into the dark as far as the human could see.  Frisk jumped when a blue spear shot down from above and stabbed into the wooden platform only inches before him.  He stopped in fear, looking around quickly.  On a higher ledge to the left, Undyne stepped from the shadows with spear in hand.  She threw it at Frisk.  Frisk screamed and bolted down the long bridge.  Undyne jumped from the ledge, landing hard on the bridge which shook with a thud.  Frisk didn't look back.  His boots clomped against the wood as he ran.  He could hear the knight throwing attacks at him.  Spears flew over his head.  Frisk zigzagged as he ran, panic setting in.

           This probably wasn't going to end well.  He had been seen and there was no telling what was on the other side of this bridge.  As spears flew by on either side, Frisk kept running.  Undyne stomped after him.  She followed at nearly the same speed despite the weight of her metal armor.  She summoned sets of three projectiles each time she attacked.  Frisk panted hard.  Ahead he saw the end of the bridge and patch of tall grass.  He tried to increase his pace but couldn't manage.  One of the spears flew over his head, but the next struck his back and shattered with a burst of magic.  The impact threw Frisk several yards forward.  He yelled and landed in the tall grass, tumbling over a few times before coming to a stop.  Sharp pains shot up and down his spine.  Frisk rolled into a ball taking in deep breaths as he tried not to yell and give away his exact location.  He squirmed a little and cringed.

           He could hear Undyne stomping toward him, like a predator searching for its injured prey.  When she stopped nearby, Frisk glanced up through the grass around him.  He could see her towering, dark silhouette staring down at something close by.  Undyne suddenly reached down to grab something.  With one hand, she lifted a little, yellow monster kid out of the grass by a spine on his head.  She stared at him for a few seconds . . . the monster kid staring back at her, mouth open and completely speechless.  Undyne scowled then slowly set him back down among the grass.  She turned and left the way she had come, mumbling something to herself.  Frisk finally coughed a few times and let out a yell of pain.  He rolled over to crawl out of the grass weakly as the unpleasant sensation inside him began to fade.  Frisk stood up in a smaller tunnel beyond the tall grass, still trembling in fear.

           The monster kid rushed out to join him.  "Yo!  Did you see that?!  Undyne just touched me!  I'm never washing my face ever again!  Man, are you unlucky.  If you were standing just a little bit to the left . . ."  Frisk cringed.  He didn't want to think about what would have happened if he had been.  "Don't worry!" said the monster kid.  "I'm sure we'll see her again!"

           Frisk backed into the rock wall in alarm.  The little monster hurried on down the path.  "But . . . I don't think I want to see her again," Frisk whispered.  With great reluctance, the child forced himself onward.

           Flowey emerged among the tall grass as the human continued.  "Don't want to see her?  Oh, don't worry.  You'll get to see her plenty," he whispered.

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Full Chapter List

[fanfic-collection]

The Zoo: Loki x Reader - Pt 4

Tag list: lokislilslut , godhateskyleigh

Please and thank you for comments!

Also so there might have been repeats but like meh... you get the idea, it felt necessary

Slowly your tears subsided as you looked up towards the edge of the enclosure and saw a mass of gathered ferkians. You scowled, wiping at the tears furiously and hurried back inside the hut.

Loki stirred slightly as you entered, his eyes fluttering open. He gave you an inquisitive look but stayed silent.

For a moment you stood just inside the curtained doorway, scanning the room for something to pass the time. Loki, for his part, drifted back into a pained sleep. You could see him shivering from time to time, jolting suddenly. He curled tightly into a ball on the top of the blankets before stretching out and repeating the process.

Perhaps all you could do now to pass the time was sleep as well.

It didn't seem right to sleep next to him, even if the two of you had woken up after being forced unconscious at the same time. Perhaps the floor...

You laid down on the floor, first flat on your back then uncomfortably on your side. For a brief moment you considered going out and laying in the grass, that would surely be softer than whatever this hard surface was made of.

Your brows furrowed together, you would not give those creatures the satisfaction of watching you sleep.

Eventually you rose from the floor and made your way to the foot of the bed. Curling up in as small a ball as you could, you fell into a fitful sleep.

-

As you slept, you were aware of wormlike tentacles touching you, jostling your body and moving you around. Feigning a continued sleep, you allowed them to move you as they pleased, you didn't have the energy to interact with them or resist.

They pressed you against something warm, and a lovely aroma filled the room. You were soon lost in the scent, fading into more pleasant dreams.

-

You woke up, legs tangled between Loki's and head resting on his chest. Starting abruptly, you pulled back, legs snagging in his and falling off the bed onto your back.

Loki jolted upright, wincing and grabbing at his chest in pain.

“Sorry.” You muttered, blushing and looking away. The damned creatures couldn't do the decency of giving you more modest clothes, or Loki for that matter.

Loki nodded wearily, waving his hand dismissively. Slowly he shook his head, pressing his palm to his forehead and closed his eyes, “Why are you apologizing?”

“I think they put me next to you on the bed.” You muttered again, adjusting the loose shift and trying to  regain a sense of modesty. Loki hadn't looked or seemed to notice and for that you were grateful, if slightly put off.

“They are desperate.” Loki chuckled.

A pang struck your heart and you fought the urge to sigh. Instead you looked away and slowly moved to your feet.

“Where were you trying to sleep?” Loki asked, his gaze slowly roving over to you.

“I figured this bed is large enough to sleep at the foot of it.” You shrugged, somewhat bitterly, but you hoped you kept the worst of it out of your voice.

“It makes no difference to me.” Loki replied.

There was that pang again, that longing in your chest. You nodded stiffly.

Loki tilted his head, his gaze softening as he looked at you. His eyes bore into yours and you felt that familiar flush rising on your cheeks.

Eventually he looked away, and you were left standing there uncomfortably, feeling so exposed for reasons beyond your see-through shift.

“So.” Loki trailed off, clearing his throat. After a moment, he readjusted himself and crawled under the blankets, resting his head against the headboard of the bed.

You envied him, how covered he was, compared to yourself standing there beside the bed. Glancing towards the bathroom, you wondered if there were towels that you could arrange into a makeshift dress or perhaps undergarments of some sort.

“Are you going to answer or just keep standing there?” Loki asked, looking at his hands resting over the blanket that covered his knees.

You tried not to think of his muscular thighs beneath the blanket. In general, you thought it best to not think of him any more than you had to. Awkwardly, you bowed stiffly and managed to choke out, “Apologies, my prince.”

Loki chuckled dryly. “A prince in captivity, meant as nothing more than a display animal. Truly fitting for a beast.” He shook his head, still smoothing his thumb over the other hand. Raising his head, he looked at the ceiling, “Still, better arrangements than I've had in the past.”

“Sire?” You asked, not sure where he was going with his ramblings.

“Is it common knowledge what happened with the destruction of the bifrost?”

“Not particularly, no, sir.”

Loki nodded, “It's been so many years, I suppose that fell from public knowledge, and after Thor's ascension to the throne and subsequent pardon of any crimes placed on me by father,” he spat the word. Looking away from his hand, he pat the bad, “I'm sorry for your discomfort at the garments they've chosen for you.” He looked pointedly away from you. “Feel free to sit down though, acting as though I'm you're superior in this situation is hardly conducive to figuring out how to get out of this predicament.”

You nodded slowly, sinking into the bed and finding a layer of sheets that you wouldn't make physical contact with him. Crawling in, you covered yourself and let out a sigh of relief, finally feeling less exposed.

“So what do the commoners say happened with the Bifrost?”

“Prince Thor...” You searched your mind, trying to think of how the story went, “was to have his coronation, but there was an attack by the jotuns.” Loki nodded, “the coronation was canceled and Thor was banished and you became king.” Again Loki nodded and you continued, “then Thor returned and the bifrost was destroyed and you were lost with it. Thor was devastated but there were rumors that he had fallen for a Midgardian. So many wondered if he had fathered a child or something that he was so upset by the bifrost, but the king did not speak of what happened to you. The queen, may she fight on in Valhalla, was morose, it was a dark time.” It had been such a brief period of time, but you had paid so close attention. The queen had felt Loki to be dead and you mourned as she had. “Then rumors started up that you were not dead, and in fact on Midgard. Thor left for a time and then you returned only to be thrown in the dungeons.”

Loki chuckled, “Yes. Thor was banished for starting a war, to Midgard and met a mortal he fell in love with and I...” He sighed, trailing off and shaking his head.

“It seemed strange, apparently you had killed mortals.”

“Under duress.” Loki muttered absently.

You shrugged, “They die so easily, such frail creatures. But the Allfather had always had a fondness for them, he liked to protect Midgard the most. Then the dark elves attacked, the queen...” You trailed off, she had been a kind and loving queen, so thoughtful to her subjects.

Loki nodded sadly, “I should have done more.”

“You were in prison, weren't you?”

“Still.”

“Well then Thor committed treason, all active guards were called to help capture him, myself included. There was a prison breach, rumors that Thor had taken you with his mortal and left Asgard. It was all very confusing and there wasn't a lot of information. We were still reeling from the destruction of the dark elves. But we had our orders. Thor left and Odin was furious, but, I guess I don't know. It's all very wrapped in mystery, he kept it quiet from everyone. I heard rumors that you had been mortally wounded aiding King Thor's mortal and yet here you are. And then Thor returns, ever the hero, and well, I guess Thor ends up king. Shortly after, Odin dies and you're said to have recovered and Thor appoints you adviser.” You looked away, “There was always drama with the Allfather, since Thor has taken over,” You shrugged, “The other realms are watched over, he's happy to intervene personally even though his other advisers are said to worry about the risk of his life, it matters much more now that he is king but,” You shrugged again, “I don't know. Prince, I mean King Thor has always done as he has pleased with little regard...” You stopped and snapped your mouth shut, looking over at Loki.

Loki burst out laughing, “Yes, I suppose he has. He has gotten better, I must say, but he prefers doing over thinking. He has wizened admirably though, you should've seen him in our youth.” Loki shook his head, still chuckling, “Our youth, it's been hardly even years since he restarted a war with Jotunheim over an insult.”

“Is that what caused the destruction of the bifrost?”

“I thought of Bor's use of it on the dark elves so many eons ago, I had been given the throne, I thought perhaps that might win me...” Loki hesitated then shrugged, “perhaps win my favor with Odin.” He sighed, looking at the ceiling and shook his head slowly.

You watched him in silence, unsure of what to say. Loki had always been the dark prince, there was no secret that Odin favored the older son, and yet, to see how it had hurt Loki. “You said you were under duress when you attacked the Midgardians?”

“When I fell from the wreckage of the bifrost...” Loki paused, glancing at you then looking ahead once more. He swallowed hard, “It was unpleasant.” He finally managed.

That seemed like an understatement.

Loki glanced back at you, “Tell me about yourself.”

You picked at your nail, looking down at yourself covered completely by the sheets. “Just a commoner, my prince, nothing much to me. I have a family, I don't see much of them with my duties to the crown, normally I work whatever jobs need doing and when the time is called, I act as a guard. I was sent with a squadron to Vanaheim for something or another that the king ordered and when we were returning, we were intercepted and I came here. I woke up and they interrogated me and...” You stopped, trying to fight back the flush.

“Yes, you mentioned that. You said that they chose me because of you.”

You nodded, still staring at your hands, gripping the sheets and wringing them absently.

“Of all the Asgardians to pursue, they chose to take me. I know for a fact that I am no easy target, and even if I were by myself, Thor is... quite protective of me these days.” You could feel Loki's eyes on you as he asked, “And yet, they risked countless members of their military to take me. For the express purpose, it seems, of creating a small population of Asgardians.”

You swallowed hard and nodded, “Yes.” You squeaked.

“Surely any commoner, any guard, even any nobility, would have been simpler.”

You stole a glance at Loki and saw him studying you intently. The flush on your face steadily grew.

“And I am flattered to think they might view me as a peak specimen of our race, yet that doesn't seem to be the case. And I know for a fact that it is not. The troubles of taking Thor would perhaps be far more as that would be an outright act of war to kidnap Asgard's king, and yet, I am still her prince, which confuses me.”

“Maybe they thought you would be...” You trailed off, wildly thinking of any reason but the truth.

“And then they say that I appeal to you.”

You looked over at him, feeling tears well in your eyes, “Are you teasing me, sire?”

Loki's eyes widened, his mouth falling open and he quickly shook his head, “I...” He seemed lost for words. “I'm sorry.” He finally muttered.

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and looked away, shoulders slumped.

“You are fond of me?” Loki finally asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. His voice was soft and hesitant, completely unsure.

You nodded morosely, still refusing to look at him. “Growing up, alongside you, my visits to the palace as a child, my training over the years and seeing who you've grown into...” Trailing off, you hiccuped. “The palace gossip of the nobles you have courted...” You looked down at your hands again, tearing at a loose nail.

“If Thor didn't produce an heir, it would fall to me.” Loki muttered, you stole another glance, “most were interested in positions of power, some sought my reputation,” he shrugged, “none lasted long.”

“It doesn't matter.” You mumbled, looking glumly at the blankets, “My foolishness has led to the king's most trusted adviser being kidnapped.”

“You truly are fond of me?” Loki asked.

You glanced over at him and saw him studying you curiously. Mutely, you nodded.

“Why?”

Sighing, you glanced away again, staring at the ceiling. “You were always so inquisitive and shy, so loving towards your mother, I related to how you always seemed to be on the edge of your friend group, the outcast, I loved catching you in the midst of one of your tricks and seeing your eyes light up and your crooked smile, and your contagious laughter. You were always in the library, or with a book and I would see how Thor would aggravate you running headfirst into whatever competition was produced while you would stay behind and create a plan. You were never as burly and brawny as him but you were no less a warrior than him. And your magic,” You sighed, trying not to think that you were telling the person, “what wonders you create with it.”

“You admire my magic?” Loki sounded surprised.

“So many act as though it's lesser, but you have used your gifts to equal and better so many warriors who would use their brute strength and they fail time and again and it's just so impressive. I am not terribly strong, but if I can think before I go into a battle, I can compete with my betters and I have always admired that trait in you.”

“Thank you.” Loki muttered quietly.

You looked at him, your turn to be surprised. “Why?”

“I can't think of any who have said such things to me.”

You smiled weakly, “It doesn't hurt that you're the best looking man I've seen.”

“I feel as though you haven't seen many men.” Loki replied wryly. “Now I'm concerned for your vision.”

“Not every girl fancies Thor and his square jaw and bulky appearance.”

Loki raised his eyebrow.

“I've had to look at him,” You shrugged, “I know the types Asgard has, our brutish warriors, so big and bulky. Looming brutes, not a smidge in their skulls.”

“So you would pick the runt of the litter?” Loki asked, a touch of bitterness to his voice.

“You don't look at yourself very often, do you?”

“Often enough.” Loki slid his finger down his angled cheek.

“There is much to be desired.” You muttered, once more looking away. Surprised that you had admitted so much. “I can't believe I've said all that, perhaps if I am to be killed when you fail to find me as appealing as I find you, at least I shall die having told the truth. Now feel free to laugh, I've told you my feelings, now you know why you're in this predicament. Even if my death shall be slow and painful for it, it has been a pleasure to finally talk to you.”

Loki leaned forward, his fingers delicately gripping your chin and turning your head.

You looked at him in confusion for a moment, then his lips were on yours, petal soft brushing against yours. All too soon it was over and he pulled back, watching you curiously.

“I am the god of lies,” He murmured, watching you, “And you have spoken quite honestly as far as I can tell.”

Your heart flopped around in your chest, unable to find its rhythm as you stared at him dumbly. Lips tingling, you felt a goofy smile spread across your face. As your mind searched for some response, the screen flickered to life across the room.

“BONDING HAS BEGONE!” Burlba screeched, “The exchange of oral fluids has happened!”

You looked over and saw Burlba's tentacles slapping the second ferkian. There was the distinct feeling that the second was unimpressed.

“Now mate! The two of you must mate.” Burlba demanded. The silence stretched on and Burlba seemed to reconsider its tactics, “Phase two shall commence. Rooba?”

“Shall the rethkar take their positions?” The second, Rooba, asked.

“No! Hold your orders, offspring must be ensured. Order the ploobs to begin.” Burlba returned its attention to you and Loki. “Male, you will be a god here. Your offspring shall be as countless as the stars, your name will be heralded for generations, you will want for nothing, all you must do is provide Asgardians. Any illness, pain or disease you risk facing will be healed, any fears or enemies that face you will be dealt with swiftly and without mercy. You will be lavished with every honor a living creature can be offered and when your death comes, you will be immortalized in our people's names. Asgard will never forget you as the Ferkians will praise your name for eternity.”

Loki blinked hard, looking at the Ferkian, he turned his head uncertainly, searching for a response.

“You will be the greatest of your kind to have ever lived. You will save your species from ever going extinct, all you must do is impregnate the female.” Burlba's tentacles waved and thrashed excitedly, “You will be lauded beyond measure.”

You watched Loki uncertainly, wondering what the ferkian meant by Asgard's extinction. All races have a twilight, just as they had a dawn, perhaps the tentacle creatures would artificially prevent anything from ever wiping out Asgard.

“You know the mad titan?” Loki whispered.

“An insect, that being is nothing compared to our might.” Rooba responded.

Loki swallowed hard, “Perhaps...”

You thought of your home, of Asgard, of the people on there, then you thought of Loki, of how you had loved him since you met him.

“What of my brother?” Loki asked.

“It frets! Phase two, we must force phase two!” Burlba cried and the screen cut out.

Loki looked at you, a strange look on his face, a mixture of hope, longing, sadness... you couldn't place all the expressions.

Finally you broke the silence, “What's phase two, though?”

The expression faded from Loki's face and he furrowed his brow, “I don't know.”

As if by answer, a panel slid open and two trays of food appeared.

“Err, dinner?” You asked.

[etching-bones-moved]

The Wild Thing, I

She should not have killed the nurse.

(Well, was she really a nurse? She wore a uniform and wheeled out shining trollies, stacked with those glass syringes that the girl had learnt to associate with delirium. She handed over scalpels or pliers or pins when asked during the operations, and she brought the girl her meals. But through the pain that hazed her senses now, through the infection eating away at her side, the girl heard that her laugh was no less cruel than the others, as they TORE HER APART AND RIPPED HER TO SHREDS AND DISMANTLED HER PIECE BY PIECE- maybe, maybe not a nurse, that wasn’t the right word-)

Okay, okay then- she shouldn’t have killed the woman.

For sure, she had enjoyed it, but it had been too desperate. Too much of a gut reaction. She hadn’t thought of all the problems that stabbing a person to death whilst trying to escape might bring- firstly, the footprints (her feet were soaked in blood- soaked in blood-  soaked in blood-) and secondly, the urgency. She was a body count now, slightly-less-harmless than before. Alarms were blaring and her blood trail was making her easy to follow, this may have well have been a suicide. Her whole plan had relied on slipping away unnoticed, because she couldn’t run. She could barely walk. Half-starved and stitches falling out, she could barely keep her eyes open.

(Stupid, stupid, STUPID-)

The eyes were new- transplanted- and she was near blind. God knew she wouldn’t be able to fight off anyone who caught her, she’d been exceptionally lucky with the nurse as it was. Still, she hobbled onwards, searching, searching… there had to be some exit from this hell, some backdoor. The corridors were bright and eerily deserted, lined with door after door after door. If she squinted she could make out numbers, but they didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t take any kind of direction from them.

Behind her, gaining, there were thudding footsteps. The girl thought of her home and sobbed.

Pain smouldering under her skin, she continued, breathing rapid and flighty, and a grunt now for every step. She didn’t understand what they’d done to her, didn’t understand why her organs had been removed and then replaced one by one, but she was fully aware of how much the procedures had cost her. Awareness was pinned down only by her will; exhaustion had left her weaker than a new-born. She thought her lungs might split, commanded them not to, half wished they would. She both refused and yearned to die here.

Inching along, clawing at the door handles for support, the girl realised a few truths.

One, if she stayed in the corridor she would be caught. This was a definite, because the people behind her weren’t slowing down (louder, louder she heard them, footfalls steady, offsetting the uncertain rattle of her heartbeat), and she couldn’t speed up. Two, by extension of this, any door would give her a better chance of escaping than none. Three, the blood on her feet was drying fast. If she could just stay ahead until every movement stopped leaving a splatter-smudge, then hide away somewhere- but four, she had no time for that. Reassessment came in stilted bursts, because she was becoming alarmingly dizzy. Pain in her torso she’d been able to stomach because her torso was already half numb, but it had begun to snake into her brain. Fog billowed over her perception, lazy curls of light-headedness cradling her with the false promise of rest.

Ragged breaths, she tumbled against a door with no lettering and pushed her way inside. This would have to do, she thought absently, slumping. Turning was a momentous effort, all her limbs acted of their own accord. Her chin was near stapled to her chest.

The light was brighter and bluer here. Steel stretched up and around her, extending into the distance as far as her untried eyes could see. Was she cold, or was it the room? Was her vision deteriorating, or were there flashing lights, studding the walls ahead at regular intervals? Limping forward, clutching at her side and clinging to her consciousness, the girl made out compartments. She thought of imagining dimensions, but forgot the idea before it was even quarter formed, got confused in ropes of numbers and approximations and God, she was so tired.

But she carried on, bolstered by the rumble of sound that swelled and then ebbed away behind her. A few moments in, she started keening, seconds after that she realised what the hallway was lined with- body storage units. That was what had struck her about the size, the shape…

She’d never get out of this place. After they caught her and killed her, she’d be laid to rest in one of these refrigerated units. Ageless, preserved. Cold. Not even buried.

She could not stop shaking, groaning like a dying beast. She wanted to go home, but could no longer detangle that wistful idea from hopelessness. Darkness had a hold on her now. Her body was clumsy, her mind was clumsy.

If she could just keep going to the end of this corridor… but she already knew she wasn’t going to make it that far. Her head whirled, her balance faltered, she would fall soon. Constellations of pain burst up and down her body.

Her thoughts turned frantically to concealment. What about if there was an empty compartment? Could she bide her time, hide in one of those? Yes, if she could find one, hoist herself inside and close it, but even then she’d probably black out from the effort and never wake up. Or worse, wake up and be trapped. It wouldn’t take her long to starve, but it would still be unpleasant.

She had to do something. But the units and their flashing lights… they were probably linked to alarms. Opening one would tell them exactly where she was.

Unless…

The corridor was not very wide. If she could open several compartments that sat opposite to each other, and… drag them out to their full length, perhaps she could create a barricade. Delay the people chasing her just enough for her to get out. She’d crawl if she had to, she’d drag herself out by the ends of her broken fingernails-

She didn’t let herself think about what might happen if the hall of bodies ended in a wall. Not when everything was already so perilously close to spinning from her grasp. Face contorting, she groped for the buttons of the nearest unit, stabbing them in random combinations until a faint beep was heard, the door popped open and a steel tray rolled out. The girl almost retched, because by God, the smell- but mastering herself she moved onwards, lurching to the side and opening up the next unit she collided with.

She tried not to see, as she advanced down the corridor, tried not to remember the sight of the crisp white sheets draped over countless bodies behind her, tiny feet poking out from underneath each one. Why so many children? Why were they all children?

What did these people want?

She didn’t have an answer. She didn’t suppose she’d ever have an answer. There had been an alarm keyed to the body storage unit, and even with the obstacle she’d created, she could still hear people catching up. They sounded jubilant; she understood why. They’d near won the hunt.

Fervently, the girl wished she could run. Hysteria tinged her rasps now, it jolted through her with every searing, frayed breath. All of her nerve endings were ablaze as she shuffled doggedly on, kept awake only by the roaring hope that she still she could get out, she could still make it- she had to-

But something new stabbed into the nape of her neck, something dipped in drowsiness. Her mind tasted a new kind of night, something deeper and more demanding than her previous exhaustion- a tranquilizer- she fell to the floor.

No. No.

She mouthed it, over and over, struggling onto her hands and knees. Tears- was she crying? - they fell to her scabbed hands, blinking in and out of existence before her star-addled-eyes. Her wounds scraped roughly against the concrete, distant. The heaviness of her limbs was insurmountable, but she didn’t want to- couldn’t die here, couldn’t go back- please-

She could only whimper when they reached her, too exhausted to release the scream bottled in her throat.

It had been a good plan. It had been a good plan.

But it hadn't been enough.

Next part

The Greylek Initiative tag

[sharkspuppies-blog]

TOP 25 WASTED TIME QUOTES

"Another day nearer the battle, So drink up my lads and look brave, 'Cos every day nearer the battle Is another day nearer the grave."

A warriors' song of the Imperial Guard

"The green tide of Orkdom is upon us and we are alone.

There can be no mercy.

No surrender.

If we survive this day it will be a miracle." Commissar Yarrick at Armageddon

"Heresy is like a tree, its roots lie in the darkness whilst its leaves wave in the sun and to those who suspect nought it has an attractive and pleasing appearance. Truly, you can prune away its branches, or even cut the tree to the ground, but it will grow up again ever the stronger and ever more comely. Yet all awhile the root grows thick and black, gnawing at the bitter soil, drawing its nourishment from the darkness, and growing even greater and more deeply entrenched." The Chronicles of Horus Heresy

"The strong are strongest alone." Tyrant of Badab

"Listen but closely brothers, for my life's breath is all but spent. There shall come a time far from now when our Chapter itself is dying, even as I am now dying, and our foes shall gather to destroy us. Then my children, I shall listen for your call in whatever realm of death holds me, and come I shall, no matter what the laws of life and death forbid. At the end I will be there. For the final battle. For the Wolftime." Last words of Leman Russ

Primarch of the Space Wolves Chapter

Whoever speaketh of Cthulhu shall remember that he but seemeth dead, he sleeps, and yet he does not sleep, he has died and yet he is not dead, asleep and dead though he is, he shall rise again. Again it should be shown that

That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even death may die.

H.P. Lovecraft

"Mighty Messenger - Nyarlathothep from the world of Seven Suns To his earth place the Wood of N'gai, wither may come He Who Is Not to be Named"

Cthulhu Mythos

"They say foul beings of Old Times still lurk In dark forgotten corners of the world, And Gates still gape to loose, on certain nights, Shapes pent in Hell." Cthulhu Mythos

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island in the midst of black seas of infinity and it was not meant that we should voyage far. Some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality that we shall either go mad from the relevation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age. Theosophists have guessed at the awesome grandeur of the cosmic cycle wherein our world and human race form transient incidents." H.P Lovecraft, "Call of Cthulhu"

A war refugee sought the Master. He said, "You are wise and serene. Teach me to escape the horrors of this world."

And the Master blinded him with fire-irons.

The Book of Cataclysm

(from the computer game "Syndicate Wars")

Dont Miss to read quotes about wasting time

The people stood like corn in the high fields and listened to the Master. As the reaper's blade scythed them all, the Master fell silent. The lesson would be learned by others. The Book of Cataclysm (Syndicate Wars)

Flee fools, flee! Gandalf

The bees of Death are big and black, they buzz low and sombre, they keep their honey in combs of wax as white as altar candles. The honey is black as night, thick as sin and sweet as treacle. It is well known that eight clours make up white. But there are also eight colors of blackness, for those that have the seeing of them, and the hives of Death are among the black grass in the black orchard under the black-blossomed, ancient bouhts of trees that will, eventually, produce apples that ... put it like this ... probably won't be red. Terry Pratchett - (Faust) Eric

They were big and little creatures. Some were hairy with long, thin tails, and some had noses long as pokers. Some had bulging eyes and some had 20 toes. In they came -- crashing through the door, sliding down the chimney, crawling through the windows. They shouted and cried. They banged pots and pans. They twirled their tails and tapped their toes upon the wooden floor. He watched as the trolls gobbled the food and threw the plates and drank everything in sight. They continued to shout and scream, to scratch the walls and pound the floors and slap their tails upon the table. The tiny trolls were the worst of all. They screamed at the top of their lungs and pulled each others' tails. The Brothers Grimm

"The Antichrist will become a world leader even though he misuses his power. The root meanings of his names will give a clue of his destiny and what he is capable of. The name may sound somewhat barbaric to European ears. He will be influenced by old customs known in the literature but generally forgotten. [...] The Antichrist will be worse than Hitler. In ~1989 he's living in the Middle East. He is at a very crucial time in his life, when impressions will influence his future lifepath. Currently in the realm there is a lot of violence, political maneuvering, and corruption. The atmosphere is having an effect on him and he's coming to realize what his destiny is. [...] His followers will regard him as a religious figure. [...] He will gain immense world-wide power. Thursday will be an important day for him, he will take it as his day of worship. [...] There will be enormous warfare and bloodshed from his weapons, one "a monster borne of a very hideous beast". Hard radiation will cause gross deformities, terrible mutations in nature, in plants and animals as well as Mother Earth. In the period 1997 or 2001 there will be great pain and despair." "Prophecies of Nostradamus"

(Dolores Cannon)

AD&D; Spells Not Worth Memorizing

Acid Trip

Alamir's Fundamental Theorem

Anger God

Animate Bread

Anti-Magic Magic Missle

Become Dead (reverse of Resurrect Self)

Bigby's Clenched Teeth

Bigby's Critically Fumbling Hand

Bigby's Insulting Hand (the second finger is rather prominent)

Break the Wind

Change Elf

Charm Dead

Clear Audience (usually follows Delayed Blast Flatulence)

Create Coat Hanger

Cure Light Winds

Cure Smoked Ham

Deathwish

Detect Dead (Yep, he's dead alright...)

Detect Detect Spells

Detect Lightning Bolts (area: 5')

Detect Pervert

Detect Self

Drawmij's Instant Coffee (components: hot water and cup)

Enlightening Bolt

Enrage Dragon

ESPN

Evard's Blue Testicles

Explosive Friends

Feign Orgasm

Foreskin

Get Life

Globe of Vulnerability

Guess Alignment

Hair Extension I, II, III

Heel

Hold Bladder

Hold Self

Impress Plants

Improper Suggestion

Invisibility to Dead

Irritate Self

Kender Summoning I, II, III

Knock Knock

Legend Bore

Leomund's Grass Hut

Lightning Blot

Locate Right Hand

Maggot Missle

Magic Gristle

Mail of the Banshee

Melf's Acid Trip

Mildly Surprising Grasp

Mistaken Identify

Mordenkainen's Aroused Hound (can't get it off of the nearest leg)

Mordenkainen's Unfaithful Wife

Otto's Irresistible Disco-Duck

Part Hair

Phantasmal Fork

Power Word, NO!

Power Word, Puke

Protection from Self

Psychoanalyze Without Error (Zo, ven dit you shtop lofink your mutter?)

Rectum of Retention

Remove Hand (yours)

Reservation

Rest Erection

Resurrect Living

Sheepskin

Shocking Gasp (usually follows Tenser's Shocking Suggestion)

Silence of the Lambs, 15' radius

Speak With Self

Tasha's Controllable Mildly Unpleasant Laughter

Tasha's Uncontrollable Bladder

Tasha's Uncontrollable Hideous Flatulence

Teleport Without Destination

Teleport Without Terror

Tenser's Formatted Disk

Tenser's Shocking Suggestion (you want to WHAT??!)

Transmute Rock to Jazz

Unseen Manservant

Unseen Pervert

Wall of Dog

You Wish!

ZX-Spectral Force

Originally compiled by Bill Garrett and Nushae Siobhan Fahey (101 Spells Not Worth Memorizing)

Iä!! Iä!! Shub-Niggurath! Ygnaiih! Ygnaiih!

Without change something sleeps inside us and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken. Duke Lito Artreides, Dune

"Do you see no hope?"

"Hope is the denial of reality. It is the carrot dangled before the draft horse to keep him plodding along in a vain attempt to reach it." Tanis Half-Elven & Raistlin

"And the shadow fell upon the Land, and the World was riven stone from stone. The oceans fled, and the mountains were swallowed up, and the nations were scattered to the eight corners of the world. The moon was as blood, and the sun was as ashes. The seas boiled, and the living envied the dead." Robert Jordan, "The Eye of The World

https://sharkspuppies.tumblr.com/post/167833965336/quotes-about-fantasy

[yoshizora]

part 10

lmao wow i’m finally updating that monster au!!!

Things begin to seem bleak after a while. Not when the snow melts, because hope is still fresh in their hearts, not when the flowers bloom, because they can’t acknowledge the worst case scenario, but when Hanayo’s arm falls off at the shoulder they realize it’s summer and they’re far from home and who-knows-how-far from Rin. They’ve got nothing to show for their efforts.

Hanayo’s body is falling apart but even that doesn’t seem to matter much to her. She’s a walking, groaning stack of bones and skin and hair held together by spider threads, still mournfully caterwauling at night in case Rin hears. But there never are any responses, only the fearful scattering of animals and other things that hide in the dirt. All Nozomi can do is keep them moving in case. Just in case. That perpetual just in case that never happens and when Hanayo’s other arm falls off as they’re climbing along the foot of a mountain, Nozomi contemplates going home.

But, Hanayo had once articulated, it isn’t home when Rin isn’t there.

The windy mountains slope down into a forest not too unlike the one where they had come from. It’s by a bubbling creek where a spider comes whispering in Nozomi’s ear, and for the first time in weeks, things don’t seem so bleak after all.

“Spread the word to Nico and Eli, dear,” Nozomi says to the long-legged spider. It obligingly skitters away and Hanayo tilts her head. Her face is nearly gone at this point. Nozomi smiles wide, and gently cradles her skeletal jaw in one hand.

“She’s close.”

Hanayo’s bones rattle in anticipation.

—

“Rin.” Maki, ever the impatient one, kicks dirt up when she catches Rin napping in a patch of sunlight. It gets in her hair and all over her clothes, but Rin does nothing but roll over and curl up.

“Rin.”

She could kill her. It’d be easy. A manticore without its venom is just about a regular mountain lion, if mountain lions also had wings, but Rin’s wings are too tattered to catch any wind. What use is she, then? None at all, apparently. Completely useless. She can’t even go fetch the things Maki told her to get.

“Rin!” This time, instead of kicking dirt, Maki kicks her in the side.

It does the trick; Rin startles and jolts, scrabbling at the dirt and vigorously shaking her head. Her ears press flat against her head, a telltale sign of her guilt. “A-ah, Maki! I was just— napping!”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Maki rolls her eyes. “I thought I told you to go gather things for me.”

“Ummm. I’m nocturnal?”

Maki’s fingers curl around air like she’s handling something particularly unpleasant. Rin’s still lying on the ground, pouting up at her as if she expects something like that to actually work. “At least put some effort into your excuses!”

“Maybe it’s seasonal!” It isn’t. Rin maintains her pout as she stands, stretching those useless wings to shake the dirt off. “I was gonna get to it eventually!”

“Eventually is a terrible work ethic.”

“But it’s still ‘eventually’!”

Arguing with Rin’s special brand of logic is pointless. Maki was quick to learn that lesson when they met back when the snow was melting, when she came across her bleeding in the bushes. Rin had attacked, of course. But a wounded beast would only have two options when confronted, and this one was clearly too hungry to run or recognize a fight she couldn’t win. Yet even after Maki gained the upper hand and lopped off Rin’s tail with the knife she used to cut plants, Rin didn’t leave.

Assuming Rin was dead was her first mistake. The second was dressing her wounds and trickling water down her parched throat, when Maki found her still feebly twitching on the ground the next day. But what can Maki say? She’s weak to her own bouts of pity.

She just doesn’t like to see things die, is all.

“Hurry up. The last of the mandrakes will be dying off soon,” Maki says. She turns and looks up at what bits of sky are visible through the trees. Behind her, Rin loudly yawns and smacks her lips.

“Uh huh. Two basketfuls, right? What’re you makin’ this time?”

“Just medicine to sell at the village.”

Maki reflexively freezes up when she feels Rin stepping too close to her, leathery wings stretching and circling around them. She knows by now that Rin wouldn’t hurt her, but it’s a reflex nonetheless.

“I wanna come with you. It’s boring when you’re not around.”

“Don’t be stupid, you know I’d lose all credibility if I brought the likes of you around.” Humans trust unicorns. They practically worship Maki. If they saw Rin, on the other hand… “Besides, you know I’ll only be gone for a day.”

This time, she nearly jolts when Rin hesitantly wraps her arms around her.

“H-hey, you’re supposed to be harvesting mandrakes for me.”

“I know, I know.”

It’s just… awkward. She sometimes wants to ask why Rin had been bleeding in the bushes that day they met when the snow was melting, but somehow it never came up after she nursed her back to health. It’s like she had simply fallen out of the sky. Maybe she did. Where did she come from? Who hurt her? What happened? The questions burn in the back of her throat, but die on the tip of her tongue.

Sometimes she gets the impression that Rin just doesn’t want to talk about it.

Then Rin finally lets go of Maki and wordlessly goes to fetch the baskets. Maki lets out breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, unsettled by Rin’s odd moment of sentimentality. Awkward, indeed. She’d like to ask her someday, but that someday implies that Rin would be staying here for some time to come.

But she wouldn’t, would she?

It isn’t long before the air is filled with the horrible shrieking of mandrake roots and the panicking of birds fleeing by flocks, and Maki retreats back into her burrow to avoid the brunt of the noise. Her headaches are bad enough as is. At least she has someone to do the dirtier bits of work for her now.

—

Rin’s severed tail hangs from the dirt ceiling amongst dangling tree roots and garlands of herbs like a piece of decoration, a constant reminder to Rin that Maki is no pushover and a reminder to Maki that Rin is more or less harmless now, teeth and claws aside. She hates vegetables, and hates fish even more, but Maki doesn’t like hunting and for some odd reason, Rin prefers forcing the bitter soups down her throat than going out to look for her own food. Truly harmless, indeed.

But she’s a carnivore, and an herbivore’s diet is slowly making her weaker and weaker until even Maki has to say something about it. No wonder she’s been sleeping so often. Rin hasn’t been lazy, she’s just been fatigued.

“Go hunt, for gods’ sake. I won’t have you dying inside my home. I don’t mind as long as you don’t bring leftovers back here.”

Rin fervently shakes her head. “I can’t hunt.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I- I don’t wanna.”

And she looks so uncharacteristically afraid for some reason, who even knows why, that Maki just sighs and makes a half-biting comment about how useless Rin is. The next time she journeys down to the humans’ village, she uses some of her own saved money to buy pieces of boar meat for Rin.

On the way back, she imagines she smells something like decay along the warm forest path, but can’t find any dead animals when she investigates.

—

The smell doesn’t go away. In fact, it only gets stronger the closer she gets to her burrow, and Maki’s quick trot breaks out into a run when she finds traces of frost along the trees that don’t belong in this summer heat. Why here? Why now? Panic grips her and Maki slips on leaves that had been coated by melting ice, nearly giving herself away with a shriek when she spots the rotting thing circling her tree, searching for the entrance to her burrow.

Rin. She’s probably inside sleeping, completely unaware of the terror right outside. Maki’s no predator, her kind don’t fight, her instincts all tell her to flee and find refuge in the village where the humans will surely protect her with their guns and steel.

But Rin’s useless as she is and can’t defend herself. She can’t just leave her there at the wendigo’s mercy without a clear conscience.

Something sharp taps her shoulder, and a woman’s voice greets her from behind.

“Hello, there.”

Spiders crawl up her legs. This time, Maki does scream.

—

If Hanayo still had a working heart, it would’ve fallen from her chest with how quickly it would have been beating away. The scream from the treelines doesn’t deter her, because Nozomi can take care of whatever it is, and Rin’s scent is so strong that it’s all she can focus on.

There. A bit of loose dirt. She plunges one hand in and scoops, and the dirt collapses inward with a cloud of dust. The hollow beneath the tree is large enough for a family of bears to stand in, but there are no bears, only an assortment of odd wooden furniture, and the strong odor of herbs, and…

A manticore’s tail hanging from the ceiling.

She reaches out to it with a trembling claw, brushing over the dried shell. It’s Rin’s. It’s unmistakeably Rin’s and the rest of Rin is nowhere to be found. Whoever was screaming outside is still screaming, and it clicks into one piece with a dreadful conclusion.

Hanayo pulls the tail from the ceiling and ducks back outside, the frost around her feet spreading.

—

“No, no, it’s alright! Stop screaming! We’re not here to hurt you, we just want our friend back—“

“GET THESE SPIDERS OFF ME!!”

“Well now, I can’t stop children from being children.”

“THEY’RE SPIDERS!!”

“They’re children.”

“SPIDERS!!!”

—

As if things couldn’t get any worse after Maki fell over with the spiders all over her and the arachnid cheerfully trying to explain how curious children naturally are, the air suddenly gets a noticeable chill. On the bright side, the spiders are driven away by the abrupt cold. On the downside, the wendigo is now wrapping one skeletal hand around her wrist and lifting her up clear off the ground, all teeth bared.

Maki wheezes, and the only thought going through her mind is of the package of boar meat spilled across the dirt. For gods’ sake.

—

But she was never really in any real danger, because Hanayo’s anger is never, ever potent enough to drive her to kill or even fight and Nozomi wouldn’t allow it anyway. In fact, it was simply a matter of miscommunication; Hanayo, unable to speak coherently, had her dreaded desperation mistaken as murderous intent, and Maki, already riled up by Nozomi’s spiders (“children”), was too busy screaming and flailing to listen to Nozomi’s attempts to explain themselves.

But one typically doesn’t respond with rational calmness when a wendigo and arachnid show up at the doorstep, so.

—

“Kayo-chin?”

Everything stops at once, even the spiders, except for Maki’s shrieking. Hanayo slowly turns around, eye sockets brimming with tears. Or it could be pus, either or. Nozomi’s hands fly to her mouth and her eyes do fill with tears, all eight of her legs trembling with disbelief.

There, only a few meters away, stands Rin, gaunt and scruffy but very much alive.

Maki finally stops screaming, and instead grunts when she’s carelessly dropped. Hanayo carefully treads closer to Rin as if the ground is made of thin ice, hands extended and sad noises coming from her throat.

The words could come, but they can’t. So instead, Rin rushes to close the rest of the distance between them and throws herself into Hanayo’s arms, wailing.

“K-Kayo-chiiin…! I’m s-s-sorryyyy—“

Gods, the noise is nearly as deafening as the mandrake cries.

—

Everything does eventually get sorted out, sort of, and Nozomi does give Maki a somewhat unfriendly frown when she reluctantly confesses that she was the one who cut off Rin’s tail and strung it up like a piece of decoration. But Rin is too busy crying and stuffing her face with the boar meat to really comment on that part, so it slides for now.

They finally found Rin, and that’s all that matters.

“I- I can’t go back. Because Nico…”

“Nico already forgave you,” Nozomi sadly smiles and pets Rin’s head. Rin dribbles and sobs again, pressing herself up against her. “She misses you a lot, too. We all went looking for you. Ever since Hanayo came back, we’ve been looking.”

Rin swallows, the semblance of her usual energy already trickling back with each bite of meat. She hugs Nozomi, then hugs Hanayo, then looks to Maki with round, wet eyes. “A-a-and Maki saved my life!!”

“It wasn’t a big deal…” she mumbles, leaning back against a tree a bit away from the others. “I just didn’t want you to die right outside my home. It would’ve been a pain.”

Nozomi gives her an odd look, but says nothing.

“Hhhggkhhaarrgh.”

“I thought about you too every single day!!”

They’re making a mess with all that hugging. Hanayo looks like she’s going to fall apart with how tightly Rin’s holding onto her.

“Hhgahgh rrkkah?” Hanayo looks at the tail, laid across Nozomi’s back.

“Umm, maybe we can just tie it back on…”

“Or Maki can reattach it with her… unicorn magic?” Nozomi’s lips slowly spread into a smile, eyes narrowed. “It shouldn’t be hard at all for a beast with such magical strength.”

“I- It’s not that simple!” Maki, flustered, tugs at her hair. “There’s a lot of ingredients to be gathered and prep to be done, a-and the tail is dried already, and—“

“And you’re not a unicorn, are you?”

Rin’s endless stream of tears stops. Hanayo looks up as well, head tilted. Ah. Well, their staring is only making her even more nervous, and Maki contemplates just making a run for it. But that’d be silly and useless, of course.

“What do you know? Leave me alone.” She scowls, looking away. Nozomi approaches with hands outstretched threateningly, reaching for which parts of her, Maki isn’t sure, but she doesn’t think she wants to find out. She quickly ducks away from Nozomi and hurriedly steps away.

“Have you been lying to our dear little Rin this whole time, Maki?”

“No.” Yes.

“Of course Rin wouldn’t know any better, since she probably doesn’t know what a real unicorn smells like.” Nozomi clicks her tongue and shakes her head, but she’s still smiling with an infuriating twinkle in her eye. Maki thinks that maybe she’d rather be frowned at. “Right, Rin?”

“But the humans in the nearby village love Maki! She told me so! Cuz she’s a unicorn!”

But the gig is up. Rin might still be in disbelief but Nozomi and Hanayo could probably tell from the moment they saw her burrow. Real unicorns don’t live in dark dusty little burrows beneath trees, they live in flowery meadows beneath the open sky, prancing about like assholes. 

Maki buries her face in her hands and groans.

“It was for business. Humans don’t care about… my kind, but they practically worship unicorns. You can’t blame me for deceiving them like that.”

“Nooo, we can’t.” Nozomi’s grinning now, just waiting for Maki to finally admit the final piece of the truth. “So…?”

Maki glances between her, Hanayo, and Rin. Is it still to late to consider running? Yes. Gods, her face is burning up, which is obviously only making things worse for herself. She’d been so careful all this time too, living in a secluded part of the forest, careful about keeping her burrow hidden, never letting any humans follow her home… taking care of Rin was clearly the first of many big mistakes that snowballed into this final reveal.

Not that she truly regrets saving Rin’s life, but still.

She sighs a heavy sigh. “…I’m a gnome.”

Rin makes a face, swallowing another mouthful of boar meat. “What?”

“I’m a gnome! I use my magic to disguise myself! The horn is just a fake! Now leave me alone!”

For the first time since she’s met her, Rin’s face lights up and she laughs a real laugh, full of joy (but she’s also just laughing at Maki, partly) and all of that vague guilt and hesitance that’s been plaguing her all this time finally gone, and Maki thinks this might not be so bad after all, even with Hanayo politely covering her horrid grin and Nozomi chortling.

“So, so can you still attach Rin’s tail back, then?” Rin asks.

“Oh… no, I can’t. Sorry.”

“Oh.”

[crypterion-moon]

What of your Dream now?

Fandom: Bloodborne, Original verse

A/N: Crossover of crossovers of my own crossover

Summary: Humanity is harder to hold on to than one might believe.

Age seem to bear down on him. A ridiculous notion as time no longer worked as it once did for him now. Why that was the reason he finally threw that old watch away. The silly thing reminded him of things that no longer mattered. Only that he never did, at the same time one look upon its scratched once brilliant silver surface brought flashes of his father holding the watch, presenting it to him like a precious heirloom.

“The true treasure is in the memory,” the hazy voice of his father said, surrounded by prestige and wealth but his thoughts constantly dotting on his only son.

Here it lay, in his claws, still shining up at him, clutching at it like Vicar Amelia once clutched at her little token. Was he becoming her? Or something worse.

What was he now? He looked down and saw the doll, motionless for a while, so that he feared that he may have forgotten her for too long. She finally stirred, having drifted off as she always does in the calm, eyes fluttering, eyelashes casting butterfly shadows on her solid porcelain cheeks before she peered up at her Hunter and smiled.

“Good morning, good hunter.”

His mangled deformed hands extended and stretched as he brushed her cheek gently. Her own fingers laid upon his and she leaned into his touch.

“You are afraid.”

Yes, he was, part of him was still a man, the very same man that toiled through the hunt, and saved what soul he could. Fought to the very end valiantly and with honor, freed a dead man from the clutches of dream. He wondered what Gehrman would make of him now, he was almost certain the old hunter never pictured this outcome. Perhaps disapprove even. No mortal should ever fall into such power and he knew why. He was close to it now. In the throes of what any man would call madness, he finally understood why the Great Ones were so intent on staying in this rotten world. Such poor frail things these humans are, they were without direction, without a god. They needed guidance. But the Great Ones failed, in their superiority. They failed. They did not belong in this world that couldn’t even look upon them. The mistake was to stay. They continue to do so until the sleep or die. Just like he will, soon, when he finally forgets and throws the watch into the fire, where his father’s face, his voice will be burned from memory.

“We tread a fine line, Alsonne,” a singing voice echoed around the dream.

Who is-...Oh! Alsonne, his name, he’d almost forgotten. A boy, perhaps only midway through his puberty appeared, but his eyes carried age. His simple attire not so simple as the billowing wisps of blackness drifted about him, somewhat familiar black phantoms rose from the flowers, peering at the Hunter with shining eyes. It’s them. The dragon, the spider and the pointy eared one, he remembered dancing among the flames and beasts, the infestation. Behind them were the snakes and witches, kinsman they called referred to each other. Brothers and sisters and more.

“Thy ascension was most unexpected, congratulations, thou hath avoided particularly unpleasant fates.”

He crawled forward, inching towards the boy, curious and suddenly all too aware of himself. He tried to utter an apology. That’s how he was raised, only he failed to form the word.

The boy unfazed by the creature, waved off the unmentioned apology.

“Things are different now, thou needst not apologize. I am glad you are still here.”

The boy turned his gaze to the doll. She stared before a look of recognition crossed her face, she broke away and curtsied and the boy snake bowed in return.

“It is no fault of hers, she never calls the one she loves dearly by name,” the spider stepped forward, past his master and pressed one hand to her cheek, in matching paleness. matching smiles. He twirled her around playfully, as she giggled like she had never done before.

“Thy love for her has not wilted as well, as such she will never call you by name.” 

Alsonne tilted his writhing mass for head in question. As he reached forward letting his bones brush against the boys long fingers. Memories surged, the beast of old Yahrnam muttering strange messages to each other. Old hunter Djura watching from the warmth of a fire. The children and the survivors, still waiting for him to return. Alfred, still praying by the shrine. The boy’s grey eyes shone beneath his dark hair, tinged blue in the faint light. Oh, they were still there, waiting. The hunt is over.

“The hunt,” he finally said, finding his voice, “It’s over?”

The shadow nodded once, “It ended as soon as thy ascension rang across the world. The hunt now begins and ends on thy whim. Should it please you, so does the world. It’s fate and that of the inhabitants lie at your mercy now.”

The foreboding words weighed heavily on Alsonne, grounding him as he felt that part of him, the one that remembers the fondness, the thrill and the beauty of being human gradually returning. In the grey of those eyes, he saw the same struggle, ascension that comes with a price. 

“My dear friend...”

“I came not to lecture,” Death lifted his pale eyes.

“I wished thank thee, for caring for my daughter in her time of need,” his paused twining his fingers with ever more recognizable ones, “She’d still like to stay, if thou would allow her to call Yahrnam home.”

Alsonne nodded, a smile that had vanished, returning beneath the cap. The needles on his head thinned, shortened and softened until the lay flattened underneath the hunter’s hat and the mask. Yes, she could call it home, she was always welcome to return, the beasts would like that. 

“He is almost ready, soon it shall be done and you may see him once more,” the boy pulled away at last, the deathly pale hands leaving Alsonne too soon, he almost reached out to pull them back. The words confused him. Who will he see, who is the man the boy speaks of. 

The incarnate of shadow spoke again, “Farren misses you dearly.”

Farren, Farren, Farren, oh brave knight, how could he have forgotten. Their meeting of fate, their fire, the passion. The promise they made before the parting. He would find a way to end the nightmare, and his knight will swear no longer to burn himself in flames, he would escape the inevitable and twist the curse into blessing. They would find each other again.

“Farren...” the emotion seeped into his unused voice, a mere whisper. The doll slid her hand into his and looked at him encouragingly. Yes, he thought, he will wait a little longer.

“Bound in moonlight,” the shadows faded, floating up into the moonlit sky, whispers spreading like mist, “We will shall call upon one another soon. I hope that when we meet at the crossroads once more, still, you would remember thine own name.”

[re-diesirae]

11. Leon

Leon had been half asleep and ready to get up at the slight sign of danger; his years of service had taught him to be always on his toes, and so he had become a very light sleeper. He was used to being awakened by random unpleasant surprises. However, the way he had woken this time made him lose a few years of life-spawn.

There was a loud crack, followed by a soft female groan, and then the cave began shaking like an earthquake. His eyes snapped open, and he was immediately on his fit with his handgun in hand. His eyes quickly scanned the cave. Claire was gone, the cavern entrance's cover laid broken on the ground, and he could hear gunshots coming from outside.

"Shit…" he mumbled, getting his gun and making his way outside.

He expected the usual groans and screams that usually came with Plagas, but instead, the roar he heard chilled his blood.

"Leon S. Kennedy! Don't you dare come out now!" he heard Claire shout at him.

Don't come out? Was she insane? He wasn't going to let her fight whatever that thing was on her own.

Leon reached the entrance and saw the youngest Redfield standing a few meters away from him. Her dark hair was messy and filled with leaves and branches that had gotten stuck after she had rolled on the ground. She had her rifle aimed in his direction, and her expression was a mix of horror and shock.

"Leon, that thing is right over you. If you come out to know, it won't be good..." Claire shouted again, "I'll lure it away! As soon as the path is clear, you can come to give me a hand!"

Like hell, he would. Claire had moved further away, and he waited a couple of minutes for Claire's sign, but as it never came, he gripped his handguns and ran out of the cave as fast he could. What he saw outside was worse than what he'd imagined. The creature wasn't the same they had seen earlier. It was bigger, uglier, and even more threatening. It moved like a human-spider crawling over the surface; just like the others they'd seen so far, the creatures had no features in its face except an over-sized mouth filled with fangs. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of red that he recognized as Claire, running right to him.

"Leon! Thank god, you're outside safely," she gasped.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he examined her under the dim moonlight. She didn't look hurt, and That sent a wave of relief over him.

"I'm fine, but we don't have time for that, Mr. agent. We have an issue here..."

"I noticed...a new friend?"

"Sure...and the bastard isn't leaving me alone without a fight. Want to be a nice friend and help me?"

" What are friends for?"

The fight against the thing was hard, they wasted a lot of ammo, and the beast didn't seem to flinch. The silence of the night got broken with the sound of gunshots, roars, and screams. The creature was strong, and after a few minutes of the fruitless fight, Leon knew that they had little chances to defeat it. They were wasting themselves and precious ammo.

"Shit…" he groaned, putting more ammo in his gun, "This one is no joke. "

"Any plan, Mr. Agent?" Claire gasped, covering him.

Run, that was all he could think at the time. With some luck, they could use the trees and the terrain to their advantage and lose it. Maybe they'd stumble with some of the locals, and that would distract the horrendous thing. It was a high bet, but it was better than wasting ammo and having the thing kill them eventually.

"Let's run. Save the ammo unless it is necessary…"

Claire nodded at him, and both turned around and began running as fast as they could through the woods. They could hear the groans and steps of the monster chasing them, but either of them wanted to stop and see how far it was. Their race came to an abrupt end when they found themselves in front of a high cliff. The only way across was an old hanging bridge that wagged too much for his comfort.

Fuck comfort, Leon thought as he and Claire ran through. The damn thing kept moving and moving, making it hard to advance without tripping and falling into certain death. Either they were caught and killed, or they fell off the cliff and died. None of the options were appealing.

The creature had already caught with them; it seemed to hesitate with the bridge, but Leon knew that its hesitation wouldn't last for long.

"We are almost there, Claire. Hurry."

The woman didn't answer. She was almost breathless when they reached the end of the bridge. The monster was half of it, and without hesitation, Leon pulled out his knife and cut off the ropes. The effect was instantaneous, the bridge broke down under the weight of its horrible body, and they saw, with some relief, how it vanished into the darkness of the cliff.

Well, at least that worked.

Leon checked himself. His wounds were numerous, but all of them were mostly scratches and not life-threatening. He was relieved to see that Claire was in a similar condition. Her clothes had gotten torn in many parts during the struggle. He saw blood on them and several injuries, but, like his, they seemed to be small scratches. However, there was something that still worried Leon. Claire's concussion was already an issue, and he didn't know if the new hits had added more damage.

"Claire…"

She didn't answer as she was catching up her breath with her look completely distant.

"Claire, talk to me," Leon insisted. He needed to evaluate her condition, and talking was one of the simplest ways.

"I'm all right," she replied in a shaky voice that made him frown, "Just a little shocked and breathless. Give me a minute…"

Leon nodded. Her reply seemed reasonable. While Claire was recovering, he decided to scout around for a bit. It was too dark to make out anything, but they needed to find a safe spot for the rest of the night. After that thing's attack, he wasn't in the mood to cross paths with another unfriendly monster. He found a small building a few steps from them that seemed like a storage shack. The door was locked with a chain, but Leon broke them without effort and pushed the door open. The place was small, dusty, and filled with boxes with undistinguishable contents in the darkness. It wasn't pretty nor comfortable, but it looked safe enough, at least until dawn.

The young agent made sure to lock the door before letting himself fall to the cold floor next to Claire; he rested his back against the wall and looked at the redhead on his side. She seemed to be recovering her breath slowly and was busy trying to fix her reddish locks; he could see her shoulders move as she tried to ease the rhythm of her breathing.

"Nice look..." he whispered in a teasing way as he pulled a stick out of the mess of dark locks.

"Haha..." Claire said sarcastically, "I think I lost my hair tie. Just great..."

"I find it nice. You should wear it down more often..."

"You gotta be kidding me..." Claire blurted out. She shook her head and laughed, "We're in a crisis here, and you can still flirt?"

"I am not flirting," Leon chuckled, "Just being honest here..."

Claire shook her hair a little, throwing a bunch of leaves over his lap.

"Don't mock my hair, Mr. Perfect-hair-all-the-time," she snorted while she rubbed her arms, an action that didn't pass unnoticed by his sharp eyes.

Of course, she's cold.

Unlike him, Claire had failed to bring a jacket, and her current outfit wasn't exactly warm. Hughesville had been in the middle of summer, and naturally, Claire had been wearing a casual and fresher attire that didn't suit the cooler weather of their current location.

Claire bent over in a sudden coughing fit, but he could do anything more than rubbing her back in a comforting way.

"Thanks," she said, "I don't know what was that for."

"You're cold…" he commented.

"A little, blame Hughesville for being in summer. I regret leaving my jacket in my office."

"You can have mine then…" he replied, taking off the piece of clothing and putting it over her shoulders.

"You'll be cold now…" she complained, but he noticed the soft hint of gratitude in her voice.

"I'll bear with it."

"You're going to make me feel guilty. At least stay close. We can warm each other."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Don't push it, Kennedy, Chris isn't the only one with a good hook."

Leon laughed. He'd never doubted Claire being a dangerous woman to mess with, but somehow, he felt like teasing Claire was a way to relax, considering their current predicament. Even if she had made herself sound angry, he could feel her body relax by his side.

"Are you okay? You didn't hit your head again when I wasn't looking, did you?"

"I don't think so…" she replied, " Not that hard, at least."

She had laughed at the last statement, but he wasn't weren't dangerous, but if she kept getting hits, that concussion could grow into something worse. Leon felt Claire's head fall on his shoulder, but he was aware that she was still awake.

"Sorry...my headache is killing me. I am starting to feel dizzy again."

"That's fine. You can pay me back with your lap next time."

She laughed, and the sound of her laugh was sort of comforting.

"How long will it take Chris to come? Don't get me wrong, I am enjoying my time with you, but I'd rather do this somewhere without B.O.W's and without a killer migraine piercing my skull."

"I have to admit I'd love that, too. We still need to meet up in normal conditions, Claire."

"I am starting to suspect that the meeting will never happen."

"We will make it happen. Maybe we can grab a bite when we are out of here?"

"That sounds splendid…" she chuckled, but he soon heard her laugh die away. "I am sorry, Leon."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"You shouldn't be here. It was me who these people wanted…"

"Don't be stupid. I am glad that I am here with you. That way, I can make sure that you'll make it home."

"Yeah...of course." she said softly, "Barry still owes me that lunch. I just hope it won't be a sandwich."

Leon snorted. He had heard about that inside joke from Claire. Barry and his sandwich references were gold.

"You can get it when we return. Oh, and you should treat me for dinner, too. After all this mess, I might deserve it."

"Sure. I can do that…"

"How about some home cooking? Chris was bragging about your amazing cooking skills, and yet I've never tried it before."

"What's Chris doing bragging about my culinary skills?" she sighed, "Well, fine, I will cook for you, but I warn you, don't expect anything too fancy. I haven't cooked in a while."

Their talk about food made him remember how thin she was. Claire hadn't been fat, to begin with, but something about her appearance now was unsettling. She was a little underweighted, or at least that's what he felt. Maybe she had been skipping meals due to work; he just hoped it wasn't something serious.

"Want to sleep?" he whispered.

"Not yet. I need the adrenaline to go down first. We could talk in the meantime. Of course, unless you want to sleep..."

"Nah, talking doesn't sound bad. I don't usually get friendly chatting during missions, but I can't say it isn't a nice change."

"Then tell me about the misadventures of the great agent Kennedy. I bet you get to save tons on damsels in distress each time. You seem to have experience saving my butt."

"I don't think the title damsel in distress and Claire Redfield go well in the same sentence. You are the one saving my ass all the time."

"Maybe years ago, but I can't beat your experience, so...what was your last mission?"

Leon knew that Claire was probably doing casual chatting by asking about his job. She would always do that and avoid the subject of her misadventures. She probably had her reasons to avoid the topic, but he was as curious as she was about what she had done in the last past years, and he probably wouldn't get a chance to talk to her that openly when they got home and her brother hoarding over her.

"It wasn't anything interesting. Just the usual. After the incidents from two years ago, I've only gotten minor tasks."

"It was a tough thing for you, guys. Chris was in bad shape when he came back, physically and mentally. I imagine you were, too. I heard about what happened in Tall Oaks. We lost many of our people there, and I wished we could have done more, but the organization was in chaos at the time, too."

"That's fine. I think I've gotten over it."

It wasn't entirely true, though. Leon hadn't quite gotten over it. He'd had his mourning period, but that didn't mean that the memories didn't hurt. He had lost more things than he could have ever imagined in one single night.

"I am sorry I made you remember that. I can see it still hurts. "

Leon wondered how Claire could see that. He knew the woman was very sharp, and even when she didn't hit the nail all the time, she was usually never too far from it.

"What about you, miss head of branch?"

"Don't sweat it. I didn't want that job to begin with, but after many circumstances, I decided to accept it."

"Got tired of hunting zombies and mutants?"

"Not quite. I just realized how many glitches TerraSave's structure had. It was nothing that I could fix with the power I had at the time, but I could do it if I accepted the role as head of the branch. Power and ranks make a difference. It was tough at first, convincing the higher-ups and everything, but in the end, they all saw the reason behind it, and I think they were pleased with the results."

"Your promotion was a recent thing, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, a little less than a year. My last mission was on an island in South America. Another testing field concocted by Umbrella's remaining lackeys."

Leon remembered hearing something about that. He hadn't read the report, though, but Hunnigan had said something. A group of famous Japanese models had been slaughtered on an island by a viral outbreak and B.O.W's running rampage. He had heard about all the chaos and tragedy it had involved, but Hunnigan never mentioned Claire's name.

"You...were there?"

"Yeah. I got myself in a bad spot and ended up being saved by Parker and the B.S.A.A. Some months after that, I was named head of the NA Branch. I haven't been active in the field since then, but I don't plan to stay like that. As soon as I finish with all the work I've got, I'll be back fieldwork."

He could somehow picture it. Just like Chris, Claire was a person of action and not someone who stayed all day behind a desk signing papers. Leon wondered if it was a family trait and if perhaps their parents had been like that, too.

"It took me a couple of years to see things better. TerraSave needed a change if we wanted the organization to fill the purpose it was created for, helping the people. So far, it wasn't doing such a great job, and it felt a little disappointing. I guess we were all biased and unable to see the breaches we had. It took me a couple of hard hits to come clear with it, and that's how I ended where I am."

"Maybe that is the reason you got targeted," Leon reasoned, "If you were making major changes, some people might have seen you as a threat."

"TerraSave is a salvation organization. We are not a threat to terrorists, like the B.S.A.A or the DSO are. Even with our research, we posed no threat."

"That's enough to them, Claire. Maybe you had something they did not want you to have."

"Maybe? By now, I wouldn't be surprised if we had a traitor on our side. It wouldn't be the first…" she sighed bitterly, "Unfortunately, that is not something I can control. I am not psychic to see what goes into everyone's heads after all, but I've learned my lesson. I won't put my whole trust into people."

Leon was perplexed about that, but he then remembered a report he had read years ago, one concerning Claire and TerraSave. A group of people had gotten abducted during a party and taken to a B.O.W development facility. There had been only three survivors from that incident, among them, Claire. According to the file, the abduction had been orchestrated by a man named Neil Fisher, who was the former head of the NA Branch and Claire's predecessor.

"You wouldn't be referring to the events of Sushestviviane, are you?"

"You got me there. That's why I meant. I can blame it on Neil that I am no longer able to trust people, as Moira likes to point. I cared about him and trusted him with my life, just to get sold to Wesker for a sample of Ouroboros."

Leon caught the bitterness in her words, and he couldn't help but wonder if there had been something more than a mere friendship there, but as he knew Claire, he chose not to ask.

"There are still people you can trust, though."

People like me.

"Yes, I know. Feel proud, Kennedy. You are among the top ones in my list, right next to Chris."

"Do you trust me as much as you trust your brother?"

"Well yeah, who knows if I would be here without you, rookie..."

Claire had suddenly fallen quiet. She seemed to have gotten lost in her thoughts, and unlike Claire, he wasn't that good at reading people, so he had no idea what was going through the woman's mind.

"So...Mr. Agent, what now?"

"Same plan as before. We get to that house, figure out what's going on here, and we leave."

"I don't like being the pessimist here, but what if we find more of my friends there?"

"We can handle it. What's another B.O.W to us? I'll watch your back, and you'll watch mine, that worked pretty well in Raccoon."

"Bet on that. You know I will take a bullet for you."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't want that, so you better don't go doing anything crazy, Redfield."

"Goes the same for you."

Leon did not reply. He pulled his mobile from his pocket and began fidgeting with it. Just as Leon expected, the signal was off, which meant he had no means to contact Hunnigan. He managed to pass a small message, but the agent was doubtful if it was clear enough.

"There must be something interfering with the signal."

"Well, guess that shouldn't surprise us. " Claire replied, peeking over his shoulder at the mobile "How's that they didn't take it from you?"

"I guess our terrorist group isn't bright." he replied, pushing the mobile back into his pocket, "You need to rest now."

"Yeah, I'll take that offer…"

Leon felt Claire curl at his side, and it took her a couple of sighs before the woman had fallen deeply asleep. He took a look at her sleeping form and stroked a couple of hair strands from her face. Took what it took, he would bring Claire home safely.

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