#figured we might as well bask in the moment before the latter half of the season kicks in and we go back to living and breathing angst 😂💖

[mobius-m-mobius]

Lokius + a S2 mid season summary 😅

[bella-caecilia]

#22 for Cobert please! Love your writing so much

Oh, thank you! That’s so lovely to hear! <3 I hope, you’re enjoying that one too :)

I decided to go pre-series with that prompt... but take a look yourself.

22 – kissing someone’s cuts/bruises/scratches

Her lady’s maid was adjusting the last pins in Cora’s hair and Cora dapped a bit of her flowery perfume behind her ears. It was then that she heard the muttering next door. Her confused expression turned away from the mirror on her vanity and she shot the adjoining door a contemplative look. What was Robert up to?

“That’s all right, Turner. I can take it from here”, Cora advised and put on the selected necklace on her own.

The lady’s maid nodded and left the room silently. Cora was prepared for dinner. She wore a mint-coloured gown and slipped on matching gloves. She brushed over the fine fabric at her waist to remove the non-existent creases. Then she finally approached her husband’s dressing room. The tones of heated discussion had not ceased.

“It’s alright…”, Robert’s voice muttered.

“But if I daresay, milord, dinner’s starting soon. I’m not sure you can go down like this”, Cora recognized Robert’s valet answering insecurely.

Her knuckles knocked on the hard wooden door. The men on the other side fell silent.

“May I come in?”

…

“Robert!”, his wife’s slender frame appeared in the threshold, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly agape. A whiff of her well-known jasmine scented perfume reached him before she did.

He knew why she reacted in that shocked manner, for he was covered in nasty scratches. His cheek had hosted a blood trickle moments before and he was glad his valet had removed it before Cora had entered his room. Robert’s sleeves were rolled up and he’d opened the first buttons on his shirt. Smith, his valet, had tended to a scratch that reached across his clavicle.

“What happened, dear?”, Cora inquired unsurely and smoothed her fingers lightly over his collar. He longed to feel the skin of her fingertips on his own skin but two layers of fabric divided them.

“Oh, it’s nothing really”, Robert stated dismissively, “Smith is taking care of everything. Would you go downstairs now and excuse me? I’m following as soon as possible.”

“Of course not! Would you sit down, please, Robert?” she asked but there was no question in it.

Smith had retreated idly to a corner of the room. Robert complied and slumped down onto his untouched bed.

“Would you mind telling what got you in that state?” she continued concerned and took his chin in between her thumb and index finger gently to turn his face from side to side to examine the extent of his injuries.

“Well… if you have to know,” he started muttering, “Pharaoh doesn’t seem to be as simple and easy-care of a puppy as expected.”

Cora had to contain herself to not show any emotion but his grave voice and dead-serious look amused her. Pharaoh was his new puppy of a few weeks and Robert was totally absorbed in this dog. Any difficulty that appeared made him downcast for days. Cora couldn’t help herself but imagine the small boy Robert once was, pouting when he found out something didn’t go as easy as he thought.

“But he really messed you up. Does it hurt bad?”

“No, it’s alright, Cora. I told you,” he countered but made no effort to move. Her soft touch bewitched him, even if it was her gloves he sensed and not her sweet skin.

“Stop fussing!” he added when she touched every scratch lightly. But actually, he basked in her tender attention.

She huffed a sigh and retreated her hands. Then, she turned around and faced an unsure Smith.

“Smith, would you excuse us downstairs and tell the kitchen we take our dinner upstairs?” she gave him a sweet smile of hers. Her festive attire seemed utterly misplaced in the situation. She took of her silk gloves and watched the broad-shouldered valet disappear mumbling a “Very well, milady.”

“Was that really necessary?” Robert inquired annoyed.

Cora set down beside him, just smiling appeasingly, and waited until his expression softened.

Then she asked, “So, Pharaoh isn’t behaving? What is it exactly he has difficulties with?”

“He takes no orders at all. Just running around like a wild animal. The worst thing is, he doesn’t even take to cuddling and patting,” Robert instantly jumped into recounting his miserable day with his beloved young dog.

“I assume your scratches are coming from the latter,” a smile played on Cora’s lips. Her intense look was set on Robert’s wounded figure.

“But, Cora, I’m sure he’s just still too excited and fidgety. You’ll see, soon he’ll be my lapdog.”

“Oh, is it really a lapdog you need?” she raised her eyebrows and grinned widely now.

“Well…” he started but blushed after a moment. He patted her thigh and tried to continue undisturbed by her cheeky comment.

“Pharaoh may need a bit more time but he’ll learn everything eventually.”

Cora got up and turned towards the bandages and antiseptic Smith had left on the bedside table, “I’m sure, you’re right, my dear.” She grabbed the utensils and approached her still sitting husband.

“Oh, please, Cora! I told you not to fuss!” he grumbled as he saw what she was up to.

She stopped in her tracks and evaluated his appearance. No, maybe bandages weren’t necessary. Without comment she set the equipment back down and Robert awaited what might be coming now. He needn’t wait long.

“Alright, but will you grant me another, well, favour?” she demanded. Her chest rose and fell with every breath as she waited for his response. Robert’s focus turned from her sweetly encased bust to her rosy lips. Her expression was free of emotion. He sensed she wouldn’t specify her demand and he couldn’t help himself at the sight of her plump lips.

“Of course, darling” his voice was low and soft.

With a pleased smile she took a seat beside him, much nearer than before, and her fingers encircled his wrist and elbow joint with a feather-light touch. Her gaze was set on the scratches that decorated his lower arm. She lifted his arm and placed the breath of a kiss on a tiny mark. Robert didn’t notice that he held his breath as he watched a trifle mesmerised Cora’s procedure. Her lips wandered up his arm, nearly never really touching his skin. When he didn’t flinch, she became more confident to press real kisses to his skin.

“It’s not fair, the puppy is treating you like this,” she reasoned in between kisses, “You’re so patient and good with him. I don’t know where you’re taking all this endurance from.”

“But…” Robert started but thought better of it. Now, she ceased her kisses and looked at him awaiting.

“But you don’t think me foolish for it?” he asked softly after a while.

She thought about his question. To be honest, his infatuation with dogs wasn’t something she was able to comprehend completely, but she knew her Robert. He wasn’t acting foolishly. It was his way to show his faith in the good.

She shook her head softly, “No. No, I don’t think you foolish.”

His face took on an expression of ease and a gentle smile grazed his lips.

“I think I have a really bad scratch here,” he pointed to a spot on his cheek very close to the corner of his lips.

“Should I tend to that one too?” she asked with raised eyebrows, a slight nod of her head and in mock innocence.

He only nodded in response.

When she was about to press her lips to his cheek, he turned his head to capture her lips with his. She should have seen this coming but was caught slightly off-guard. The determination he poured into their kiss caused a pleasant flutter in her lower abdomen.

They presented a most strange sight. With growing entanglement, they sank back onto the duvet. She was in her mint evening attire and he was already slightly dishevelled and half-undressed, but still wore parts of his walking outfit. They were surrounded by bandages and antiseptic. Her gloves fell to the floor when she gave her husband her full attention.

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

5 times you infuriated me and 1 time you made it okay

A/N: okay so the 5 times concept is something i enjoy writing very much, however i am aware that in this piece in particular, a lot of the ideas are underdeveloped and probably especially dont make sense with the ending when you look at the relationship, but please keep in mind that this ‘5 times’ theme i chose focuses on those kinds of incidents so there are a lot of other times in between (and i dont have the time or energy to turn this into a super long fic but perhaps one day.. ) so this is what happened!

Warnings: mentions of torture (like in the 7th when Bellatrix takes to Hermione)

Tags: @expellimarvelous and for some reason my hp taglist got lost so let me know if you’d like to be added!

↠↠↠↠↠↠

I. Bad Start to the Sixth Year

Your sixth year at Hogwarts seems to be off to a good start as you laugh and snack on sweets with two of your three your best friends on Hogwarts Express. Or at least it seemed like it was off to a good start until the train arrives at the station, and Harry is nowhere to be found.

Waving off Ron and Hermione with a promise to catch up, you insist on going to look for him by yourself. Your search leads you all the way to the other side of the strain where the blinds are conveniently drawn. You can hear a voice muffled through the closed door, and you become filled with dread when you identify who it belongs to.

Sliding the door open a crack, you see a familiar head of slicked-back platinum hair. You aren’t able to make out what he says, but you do see him bring down a foot to meet Harry’s nose.

“Malfoy, what the fuck?!” you burst out, causing the Slytherin boy to jump in surprise.

“Y-Y/N- I-I—”

“I don’t know what the bloody hell you think you’re getting away with, but you better get the fuck off this train before I curse you,” you snarl, shoving him aside to get to Harry. Seeing that he’s been petrified, you take your wand out of your jacket pocket and mutter, “finite,” to which your friend thankfully wakes up, blinking a few times. He doesn’t move much, as he tries to regain control of his muscles, and you insist he takes a moment to do so.

Throughout this, Draco has gone so quiet you think he might have actually left, but when you turn your head to meet his stormy eyes, you’re filled with rage, once again.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?! Get out!”

“But Y/N, I-I'm—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you say in a lower tone as you tend to your friend, not even sparing him another glance.

Why is it that just when you think there might be a redeemable quality buried deep in Draco Malfoy, he always does something that proves otherwise?

II. Welcome to the Slugclub

“Okay, okay! I was gate-crashing! Happy?” He admits, trying to shake off Filch’s grasp on his jacket.

His eyes that used to be sharp and bright, have recently become sullen. They lock with yours for a solid moment before he’s ushered out by Snape.

Your eyes linger on his figure as he’s led away from the party— probably longer than they should have, but you can’t help noticing how thin he’s become. You’ve barely seen him all year, despite having a few classes together. He was never that hefty to begin with, but it looks like he hasn’t eaten or slept in ages. Other than his usual perfectly tailored wardrobe, he now wears dark circles under his eyes, and it’s impossible not to notice how the contours of his face have become that much sharper and his already pale skin has adopted a sickly pigmentation.

You and Harry follow the pair out, but for different reasons. You know that Harry wouldn’t be happy about yours because of his suspicions, but Draco looks like he’s crumbling under stress.

Eavesdropping only proves Harry’s doubts about Malfoy, and he then decides to rejoin the party as to not get caught by Snape, but you hang back, telling him you need to go to the loo.

You wait in the shadows until you hear Snape’s steps scurry away before approaching Malfoy who stays behind, sitting on a ledge. A half-smirk appears on his face upon noticing you like he’s been gathering an arsenal of insults to shoot at you, but really, under the snide mask, he marvels at how lovely you look tonight.

“Straying from your date with Potter?” he spits out Harry’s name like it’s revolting to have on his tongue. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think Potter’s lady is ditching him in favour of a more refined pureblood—”

“He’s one of my best friends!” You roll your eyes and flail your hands up in exasperation. “And how is the nature of our relationship any of your business?!”

He snorts, leaning his back on the walk behind him and crosses his arms over his chest nonchalantly.

“You know, I came out here to check and make sure you were okay!” You shout at him hands coming up to furiously push your hair back. “I can’t believe that for a second I thought that— no- but you—”

“You thought what?” His voice has become softer, hard exterior starting to peel away in your presence. He stands from his seat, mild concern washing over his features.

You shake your head, looking anywhere but at him. “N-Nothing—”

“Tell me,” his hands place themselves on your biceps, long fingers curling around your arms gently.

You fall victim to his intense gaze, getting lost in the grey seas of his irises. His features aren’t as hard as they usually are and the grasp he has on you is delicate; like he’s afraid to hurt you and you almost feel like you can let your guard down. Almost.

“Is it true?” you ask him, diverging from the subject and he raises an eyebrow in response. “Did you hex Katie Bell?”

He opens his mouth, and then closes it without a word when he realizes he has nothing to answer to that and you’re the only person he can’t lie to. That’s enough of a confirmation for you. You let out a breath of disbelief and he starts to panic, because contrary to the backwards dynamic the two of you share, part of him does care what you think. “Y/N- p-please listen—”

All emotion leaves your voice as you tell him, “Just leave me alone, Malfoy.”

You shrug him off, and spin on your heel, breaking the eye contact. Walking down the hall, you leave him there to bask in the silence and his dark thoughts.

III. Hair Like You

You’re already teeming with rage as you scour the castle for Ron, who slipped you one of Fred and George’s prank snacks that ended up changing your hair color. Running into Draco Malfoy, of all people, really puts the cherry on top of the shit sundae.

To make things worse, it looks as though he’s going out of his way to get to you when he spots you from across the courtyard. At first he squints, not fully sure if it’s you with the new physical change, and then tails you down two hallways, not giving a single damn how creepy he may look.

“What do you want, Malfoy—”

“It seems like you’re more obsessed with me than I had originally thought,” he snickers, catching up with your quickened pace.

That’s when it hits you, and you instantly halt, causing him to smack into your back. Spinning around to face him, your eyes widen in horror as you take in the familiar platinum blonde hair— the same shade you saw in the mirror earlier.

“That’s just great!” You throw your hands up dramatically. “Now I look like you!”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself—”

“Oh, sod off, Malfoy!”

“You know, it really doesn’t look that bad. Maybe you’re starting to have better taste.”

Despite knowing full well that that was Malfoy speak for a compliment, you’re in no mood for it. “Oh, well I’m so glad that the Slytherin prince thinks me, a lowly commoner, 'doesn’t look that bad’ just fu—”

“No! No! No! Y/N! I didn’t mean—”

“—ck off! Because on top of looking like the most insufferable git in the entire school what I really wanted was to receive a backhanded compliment—” And just then, you spot the familiar redhead with bad influences for older brothers from across the hall who you’re even more pissed off at than Malfoy.

“I don’t have time for this,” is all you say as you bolt down the hall towards Ron, screaming, “YOU’RE DEAD, WEASLEY!”

IV. Held Hostage

Hermione’s screams are enough to make you feel like you’re being gutted, and when Bellatrix takes her knife to your arm, you’re absolutely terrified. At least this means your best friend has a break from her torture. In the meantime, you nearly bite through your cheek to hold in your own screams whilst the saddistic woman spells out the hateful term that’s been thrown at you your whole life, carving it into your flesh.

After what feels like hours, the death eater sits back up, admiring the her work with a sickening grin on her face, and you want nothing more than to smack it off. Or at least you would if you didn’t feel like you’ve been drained. What you do feel is defiled; like your own skin is no longer yours, and the blood that runs through your veins doesn’t belong to you.

And Draco Malfoy has been standing on the other end of the room this whole time whilst his barbaric aunt tries to get information out of you.

The rest of what happens is experienced through the blur of hopeless tears your eyes are clouded with, until Harry picks you up off the floor after Bellatrix had pushed you and Hermione to save herself from the falling chandelier. A certain fire surges through you as you regain full consciousness.

You see Harry and Draco fight over his wand, and instinct kicks in as you lunge forward, efficiently tackling the latter to the ground. Snatching the wand out of his hand, you throw it to Harry. The blonde boy’s struggles are weak under your weight, almost half-assed as you feel the tension start to leave his muscles.

“Why?!” you shout in his face, grabbing him by the collar to keep him down. Tears well your eyes, but your gaze pierces through him nonetheless. The feelings of helplessness and emptiness are long gone as angry tracks burn down your cheeks. “Why—”

“Y/N!” Harry scoops you off him in one swift motion, pulling you to where your allies have regrouped. “This isn’t the time- w-we have to get out of here!”

You don’t say another word, and your infuriated eyes target the conflict and fear that resides in Draco’s. He’s left with the image of your anguish and fury engrained in his mind long after you disapparate.

V. Crossing Over

The Dark Lord himself beckoned him, and for a second you thought he might resist, but then his mother called him, extending her hand for him to come to her, and you saw him break.

“No!” You cry out as he starts to take hesitant steps towards the death eaters. “Draco, don’t do this!” His already shaky demeanor falters for a moment at the sound of his first name falling from your lips. “You have a choice.”

Steeling his nerves, he doesn’t allow himself to look back, because he would surely crumble under the weight of your gaze and the pain etched into your features. He continues forward, into the arms of a proud tyrant, and you swear your heart drops out of your chest.

Then, the whole scene with Neville’s heroic spirit ensues and you feel the fire within you flare up again when Harry tumbles out of Hagrid’s arms. Death Eaters that have been backing Voldemort start to disappear, leaving an unevenly distributed cloud of darkness.

Everyone else starts to retreat to the castle to regroup and fight as one, but you chase after the fleeing Malfoy family. It’s as though you have no control as your legs move under you on autopilot and as fast as they can go.

You’ve almost caught up to the trio on the bridge and can no longer help yourself.

“Coward!” You yell, trying your best not to let your voice crack, with no avail. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from spilling freely. Draco meets your eyes with his own that portray a boy who is terrified out of his mind, but you’re relentless. The truth isn’t always easy. “You’re a bloody coward, Malfoy!”

Avoiding your fiery gaze, he turns into his mother’s comfort. Not once do his eyes meet yours again before he disappears in a whisp of black smoke.

What you feel is rage, but with that rage comes with an added indescribable pain and disappointment.

+ Midsummer Night’s Dream

The next time you see the infamous Draco Malfoy is just over a year since he disapparated in a whisp of black smoke. Little do you know, immediately after apparating, the boy fell to his knees in the arms of his mother. He broke that day, and hasn’t been able to put himself back together since, contrary to the proud Malfoy mask he wears out in public. He hides behind crisp suits and perfectly-coiffed platinum locks. It’s enough to have anyone who reads the Daily Prophet fooled about how the heir carries onto a successful path despite everything that has happened.

But not you. He never could fool you of anything, really. So when you and your friends spot him taking a seat alone at the Three Broomsticks you know something’s up, because a refined Malfoy doesn’t just hang out amongst mere commoners like that.

“What is he doing here?” Ron spits out, red fury already starting at the tips of his ears and seething from his narrowed eyes.

As if on cue, Draco’s eyes lift from his glass to meet yours.

Hermione sends you a sympathetic smile before mumbling calming words to her boyfriend. The Malfoys and Weasleys always did get each other riled up.

Harry, who sits beside you, gives you a gentle nudge with his shoulder to get your attention and you can immediately read his expression. He can read yours just as easily and can see that you’re starting to get anxious. “Y/N…”

“Harry, it’s okay,” you simper, standing slowly from your seat. “I’ve got this.”

He casts a glance towards the blond across the room before his eyes come back meet yours, sending you a look as though to ask if you’re sure. You give him a nod and he sends you off with a comforting squeeze of your hand.

As you make your way to the table for one, you’re so focused on slowing your heart rate that you’ve arrived at your destination before you know it, seeing the shiny black dress shoes in contrast to the uneven wood panels of the pub’s floor. When you lift your gaze, it’s then that you realize he’s been staring at you the whole time.

“Malfoy.”

“Y/N.”

The sound of your first name rolling off his tongue lights something inside you— and it’s not pretty.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice is steady, but with a strong undertone of something darker. Like the calm before a storm.

“Can’t a man enjoy a butterbeer on his own?” Despite him being absolutely terrified of you, he somehow manages to exude a certain lightness. You look at his untouched pint and raise an eyebrow and he knows you aren’t in the mood for small talk.

“Cut the shit, Malfoy.”

Recognizing the beginnings of anger in your tone, he stands as smoothly as he can manage and gestures towards the door. The last thing he wants is for you to snap because he knows very well what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your fury.

He follows closely behind as you lead him out into the dim lighting of Hogsmead. The summer air doesn’t feel as heavy as it has for the last week, and the sky proudly shows off the twinkling stars. It would be a perfect night if not for your circumstances.

You stop in your tracks and spin to face him so briskly, your forehead almost hits his chin. “You have one minute to talk before I hex you where you stand.”

“You always did excel in hexes and jinxes—”

“Fifty-five seconds, Malfoy.”

“Uh- erm- o-okay—”

You have about zero patience left. The anger thats been quietly bubbling for the last year has been on the brim of overflowing the second he walked in tonight, but so has all the pain and sadness you’ve kept locked up all this time. “You’re wasting my time.” You prepare to stalk off, but a firm hand pulls you back by your elbow, and for the the first time since the war, your face with Draco Malfoy. It’s the first time tonight that you can really see him. He looks worse than ever.

The silver pools that once resided in his irises look like shells of what they once were. And he sure felt that way, until he saw you. That’s when he realizes how empty he always is until he’s around you. My, how he took that for granted all these years.

Trying your very best, you fight against the urge to give into the part of you who still cares for him and wants to know the last time he had a good night’s sleep. You also try to fight against the water accumulation behind your eyelids, but it only makes it worse.

“What?! What do you want, Draco?!”

The use of his first name is the only sign he needs to be brave for once. Without further hesitation, he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. Once over the initial shock, you give in for only a half second before you come to your senses and push him back, both hands planted firmly on his chest.

“What the bloody hell are you playing at?!”

“I-I- Y/N, I-I’m so—” Right then, is one of the few times you see what he’s really feeling on the inside be expressed on the outside. “I-I just-I thought—”

“You- you thought what?! We’d ride off into the sunset on the back of a unicorn and live happily ever after?!” You don’t care how frantic you look right now. You don’t care that the midsummer night wind is whipping your hair into complete and utter chaos. And you definitely don’t give a single fuck about how the drunk people stumbling by you giggle uncontrollably. You pause for a moment as you wait for them to be out of earshot, and once they are, you let out a frustrated breath and resume. “Did you honestly believe that you could kiss me, and then everything— all of the absolute shite of a mess would just go away?!”

His gaze drops to the ground that his shiny dress shoes stand on, with a few platinum strands that fall from their place. Those are the only visible signs of something amiss with the well-dressed man. But you see something else cloud his features: shame. The last time you saw that, which was also the last time you saw him, he left. He always left you while you were angry, enraged, and never stuck around to face the truth.

Draco Malfoy decides that this time is going to be different.

He has felt as empty as his eyes appeared for months, but when his gaze rolls back up to meet yours, you see the grey storms you saw when you first met him. Sure, they were masked by an outer shell that was brimming with entitlement, but they have now what they had then. Purpose.

“Y/N,” His hands twitch as he fights the urge to reach out for yours, deciding against it in favour of using two words you’ve been waiting to hear. “I’m sorry.” You soften, releasing the tension you didn’t realize you carried in your shoulders. The angry tears that stung the backs of your eyes melt to something peaceful as they escape their ducts. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I know I don’t deserve another chance, or any of the chances you’ve given me, but if you’ll give me one more I promise I’ll be better. Everything you’ve ever said about me is true; I am a coward, but I’m not leaving this time.”

“And what if I want you to leave?” You ask, testing the waters, more than anything else.

“If you tell me to leave— if that is what you truly want, then I will. Tell me to leave, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“Okay, then leave.”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Y-Yes—” You stammer out a complete lie. Every cell on your body knows it’s a lie, and apparently so does he.

“I don’t believe you.”

More than anything, you want to fling yourself into his arms but you feel like your feet have been colashoo-ed to the ground. A corner of his mouth quirks up into a soft lopsided smile as his hands raise to thread fingers through the top of your hairline, smoothing wild strands away from your face. His touch is so careful and delicate than you could have ever imagined. He leans down slowly and stops just as his lips have brushed over yours, asking for permission, “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Syllables get caught in your throat, and channel themselves through you body as you move to slate your mouth over his. The sensation is so delicately mind-blowing, and it leaves you absolutely breathless when you pull away to lean your forehead against his.

All you can manage to breathe out is, “stay”.

The way your breath fans over his lips is intoxicating, and he’s certain he’s never seen anything more beautiful, no work of art finer, than the way you’re looking at him.

“I’m not leaving this time. Never again.”

His grasp tightens as he pulls you back to his lips and your fingers curl around the light fabric of his shirt. Every emotion and feeling accumulated over lost time is poured into this kiss.

This time, what you feel for him is something stronger and far different than anger.

[roc-thoughtblog]

Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 15

Chapter 18, Pages 83-88

Past two weeks have been... rough isn't the right word, that implies a specific level of hardship. Mismanaged implies that I made management decisions at all. I think "thoroughly paralyzing" and "difficult to manage" were what it was. If I ever mention emails in the preamble again you can be sure there's a 50% chance I'm imminently falling apart and disappearing for a while under the pressure. I still haven't conquered them at the time of writing this, but I've made some progress..

Over the weekend two sets of friends dragged me out, so that's helped a lot in resetting my mind to a less frozen space. I got to see a bird art exhibit and pick up a friendly kitty! I have no idea where yesterday went but I finished DDLC the day before, which was fun and I'd like to write something about.

This week's looking better.

Anyway! Previously, Edward Ferrars has returned, and makes his greatest spoken appearance thus far with all the sisters; and in the comfort of their familiar company he sounds very much at ease and how Elinor would refer to as "as himself." It's very sweet, but it also sounds like he's nursing something broody underneath it all.

Geez it's been almost two weeks.

It took me a good four hours today to get back into reading again, but I'm glad I did. This chapter was so sweet, and I feel like it's helping me get my life rolling again.

Readthrough below.

Chapter 18

Edward Ferrars is doing a good impression of me during social outings. Poor Elinor, he's so despirited she's not able to even read if he still loves her/wants to see her;

and the reservedness of his manner towards her contradicted one moment what a more animated look had intimated the preceding one.

Another for the nice line stack. I really know the feeling though; that you should or even are genuinely happy to be there but something weighs on you in a way that whatever you should naturally feel gets swallowed. Like happiness is a poor signal being intermittently obscured by static and noise. And other people can pick it up easily even if they don't know the cause; poor Elinor is feeling insecure right now being made to guess what it could be.

Edward's behaving oddly, not just in Marianne's opinion but in mine as well I think. Or at least, very detachedly. He skips breakfast with Elinor to go a walk around town to admire the scenery; I have to pause my train of thought for this actually:

"I shall call hills steep, which ought to be bold; surfaces strange and uncouth, which out to be irregular and rugged; and distant objects out of sight, which ought only to be indistinct through the soft medium of hazy atmosphere. [...] I call it a very fine country - the hills are steep, the woods seem full of fine timber, and the valley looks comfortable and snug - [...] I can easily believe it to be full of rocks and promontories, grey moss and brush wood, but these are all lost on me."

When Marianne tries to press Edward for the details of his aethstic opinion after his walk, he gets pre-emptively defensive over his inability to meet her standards of aesthetic appreciation. Asides from illustrating that Edward knows how to describe what he lacks, it's really helpful to me for being an incredibly easy to reference breakdown on the difference between observations made from aesthetics versus utility.

Steep hills, out of sight objects, comfort and resource presence are all practical concerns. Meanwhile, uncouth surfaces imply personality, a hazy distant skyline adds atmosphere, promontories are dramatic and grey moss and brush wood are appealing visual details. I haven't really stopped thinking about narrative voice, so I'm suddenly struck wondering about a detective/reporter dynamic where two characters cover the same scene but one is practical and the other is poetic, and seeing the difference... Well it's probably been done and I should nix this train of thought before it takes me interstate.

Amusingly, Elinor undercuts her beau by explaining to Marianne that Edward is not nearly as exclusively utilitarian-minded as he acts... he just masks the latent poetry within his soul because he holds a slight reactionary bias against aesthetics, because he finds some aesthetic appreciators to be fake and pretentious. Oh dear. :'D

Fortunately for Edward, Marianne agrees that florid language has been done to death. Unfortunately for Elinor, Edward refutes her claim that he has any hidden poetic appeal. He goes as far as to use language like "crooked, twisted, blasted trees" while doing so too, which, I think we can all agree it's a waste that he doesn't employ them more often. :'D

Marianne looked with amazement at Edward, with compassion at her sister. Elinor only laughed.

Same. :'D

Oh, oh no.

Next paragraph Marianne spots that Edward has a new ring and blurts out the observation for a conversation topic. Oh no, no that can't be any kind of good in general. A surprise new ring? In a romance novel? Murder! Bloody murder! It's like finding a bloody handprint in a murder mystery; Edward what have you done??

I might be having a little trouble following what comes now though. So there's a hair inlaid in the ring (what is it with people keeping each other's hair?), which Marianne asks if it's Fanny's. The hair's not the right colour to be Fanny's, but Edward makes an excuse while glancing (guiltily?) at Elinor. So now, both sisters think it's Elinor's hair, and he's lying about the source because he's embarassed? Marianne thinks it Elinor gave to him, but Elinor thinks he secretly stole it from her?

I think that's what happened?

Elinor doesn't even like... particularly mind that her hair might have been stolen to make a ring.

That hair is definitely not Elinor's though, which I think she will mind.

[Elinor] internally resolved henceforward to catch every opportunity of eyeing the hair and satisfying, beyond all doubt, that it was exactly the same as her own. [...] how little offense it had given to [Elinor].

Elinor's natural skepticism, at an 11 for Willoughby, is turned down to a 1 for her beau. In fact, her natural skepticism is playing second fiddle to her basking in attention; from the rest of the context it sounds like she's just using it as an excuse to admire her beau apparently wearing her hair. We've seen paranoid hyperaware Elinor, and this is definitely not her. This is a new Elinor, this is aaaaaaaaaa my beau has a secret memento of me aaaaaaaaa i can't betray my secret internal happiness aaaaaaaaaaa Elinor.

I don't even think I'm reading too much into the secret internal happiness thing, girl has feelings and biases. If it were Willoughby with the strange ring of hair she'd be driving herself up the wall with concern, but that it's Edward she's already half-convinced herself of his fidelity. Either it's not her hair, or he stole her hair behind her back, and neither is a good thing! In fact, the latter is quite a stretch, and Edward seems like an awful liar. And even though she assumes the latter option, that he stole her hair without her consent, she's not even upset! That's not just creepy nowadays, Elinor acknowledges in the text that she should be affronted! It's creepy then too! Poor girl has it bad.

Mama Dashwood are you gonna say anything? I don't think Marianne is useful here, she's just happy to see signs of love.

Oh boy, there's not even much of a reprieve before Sir Middleton and Mrs Jennings show up to meet the new lad in town. 0 seconds for Mrs Jennings to figure out Edward is Elinor's secret beau. Poor Elinor is gonna get her match made so hard. I expect exponentially increased amounts of unwanted advice.

Sir Middleton invites them to more parties, as he do, which may or may not be the coming chapters. Marianne is still despirited that Willoughby is absent. Edward catches on to all these mentions of a mysterious Willoughby and Marianne's despondent reactions, and pieces things to together to come out and ask Marianne privately... if Willoughby hunts.

He just made a joke, that cheered Marianne up. That's adorable, I love it so much. Bonding... :')

Not just him too, the entire narrative was setting that one up for the reader, trying to build it up into some kind of serious question or confrontation so that Willoughby could deliver the punchline on Marianne. On a dry technical level it conveys the same bare minimum of information that it otherwise could have (that Edward has figured something out and confronted Marianne about it), but on every other level it's so much more heartwarming and just adds such a fine, tender touch to an interpersonal relationship that really doesn't get all that much positive attention.

And beyond touched, Marianne is all of happy, anxious and certain that Eddie would be great friends with her Willoughby, which, I need many new sentences to express how incredibly meaningful that is.

Marianne's relationship with Eddie up until now has been marked by a frustrated inability to understand him, and mostly held together by the good words and attention of her sister. They're established to be friends and positive, but there's always a fraught element to it, especially since we've seen that she and Willoughby together have had a similar antagonistic relationship towards Brandon, and that doesn't play out well even with Elinor's defense. Given how much she insists that she shares her heart and mind with Willoughby, we can reach the implication that she treats her opinion or place as interchangeable with Willoughby's. If she can confidently opine that Eddie will like Willoughby, then I think this is that tender moment where we can see that, no matter how or if they fight or disagree, Marianne truly believes that Eddie deeply likes and appreciates her, because that's what's necessary to like Willoughby.

And Eddie reciprocates! "I do not doubt it." He has no reason to know that Willoughby and Marianne have appreciably interchangeable level singlemindedness, so he just likes Marianne enough to be ready to accept whoever it is that she loves.

It's such a lovely note to end an otherwise tense chapter on. That interaction alone might have made it one of my favourites so far.

[01010010-posts]

the sound of his kisses muffled by your skin, a brief rustling of clothes here and there “you’re so cute” he whispers, letting go of your lips to peck your left cheek, and then your jaw, and then your chin, leaving room for you to respond “thanks, could say the same to you” he stops a moment and faintly chuckles at that compliment, his right hand already resuming to the task of teasing your hips “is this position comfortable?” he hints with his brow at the slim black recliner you two are leaning on, your spine kinda pressed by his whole body. however there’s no way you can reply now, too busy focusing on reciprocating his affection, what a needy man – you would never have guessed it; that RK900 was such a tender alpha, his cold exterior hid it too well, not that you had anything to complain about the former or the latter, for you loved both. another thing you wouldn’t have thought was him crushing on you as hard as you did. can’t complain on this side either. a low growl comes from his chest, along a silent buzz of his jacket’s pocket. his eyes roll in annoyance and, while lifting up a bit his torso, he reaches for his phone, giving you the time to breathe more freely “yes, detective reed?” of course it’s him. you giggle, mouth ajar, slightly short of air, warm blood weaving in the veins under your dark circles – thought you don’t know this but you’ve just made RK900’s heart skips a beat. and he can’t help but puts his fingers near your left ear, caressing your features, basking in your loveliness, ooh gavin could have waited even an entire day if this little android wasn’t so meticulous about work in the first place “mh, i understand.” he mumbles, deciding that these few minutes shouldn’t be wasted, and lowers down to gently nibble at your neck “i see, that makes sense.” at your carotid “no, i didn’t.” and at your collarbone “c’mon you’ll make me purr” you jokingly murmur but he retorts with a wink, still paying attention to the call “very well, then.” the last picking at the start of your sternum “i’ll hang up.” and he does, finishing his path of invisible lovebites in a hushed speech. you wonder how you’ll be able to face the other detective without being too embarrassed the next occasion you meet him “i’m sorry, looks like i have to go.” “y-yeah, figured.” you clumsily attempt to smile, using your elbow as a lever to start raising your figure “but i’d love if we could, uh, continue this?” fuck please yes “sure! – i mean, mh, sure, why not.” we’ve got to the part where you have to act casual but it’s not your forte, shit “perfect! seems i’ll be late this evening but you can come home with connor.” he slowly gets up to iron the wrinkles out of his suit with his palms. a kiss on your forehead and he’s gone. wait what. connor? he leaves you there, dumbfounded, trying to decipher his words. by all means it must be some kind of mistake, you didn’t hear right or maybe you did but he meant something else or.... not, as you get to confirm at the end of your shift. connor standing in front of the DPD entrance, tall, unsettled, probably concerned, most certainly awkward, 100% anxious “hey” you notice his digits unravel in a continuous motion, but as soon as you acknowledge that particular he’s quick to hide them in his trousers, perhaps playing with his usual coin “hey” a tiny show of his teeth in an immaculate friendly manner, he really is different from RK900, huh. “this is not going to work, i’m a mess” “you’re fine connor, love, you’ve been made for this” “stop joking you’re not helping. also, your scent is mixed with [name]’s and i have trouble restraining myself gosh” “do you want a human punchline?” “NO i do not want a human punchline” “you’re so funny i’d marry you” “i regret the day you downloaded a sense of humor” you point the tip of your shoes onwards and rock the heels backwards, to and fro, to and fro, looking at the glass doors disclosing the sudden downpour “sooo....” he abruptly wakes up from his train of thought “ah! it’s fine, i brought an umbrella!” from behind his frame appears the aforementioned dark object, which, honestly, wasn’t your first worry “that’s good.... but i actually wanted to understand.... how can i say it– what’s the deal?” “you haven’t told them?” “mh?” “you haven’t told them.” “oh. i might have accidentally forgotten.” “you’re dead.” he softly grits through his teeth and unwittingly you let out tiny gasp “oh so that’s the plan? to kill me?” his pupils quickly wander to you again “nonononono no no, i guarantee you that’s not what’s going to happen” you can feel a tinge of panic set in his bones (bones? he does not have them). making you distressed it’s the least he wants to, that, you can infer. however this does seem an episode of some crime tv series where two robots want to kill their co-worker for absurds reasons “i was– talking to myself.... i think.” he thinks. the return trip is weird. not because you actually fear he’s going to murder you (do you?) but because he’s.... too stiff. you’re familiar with connor. everyone’s familiar with him. he’s pleasant and easy to talk to, you’ve had plenty of conversations with him before – even flirts? one can say so? –, yet in this instant there’s a dead calm between your shoulders, each of you struggling to keep a topic going for more than twenty seconds. you hope to change this at the earliest opportunity “please take a seat if you’re tired” in his voice the ghost of confidence while his index begins to scrape at his jowl, he’s clearly nervous but does his best at finding something to occupy his mind, oh right! he should prepare dinner! “Nines is going to make us wait but you must be hungry.” you do as told, having a faded green chair caw above the white pavement “do you two live together?” he opens the fridge, taking out three eggs, one leek and half an onion “mh? yeah, we’ve been for quite some time now” (they’re a thing?) carefully he washes and chops the vegetables with a shiny knife. androids don’t need to eat so it’s almost obvious that he bought ingredients just for you, which is terribly sweet you must admit. did he also practice cooking for today only? gosh, the sole thought is enough to make you endearingly beam “and.... you’re happy?” he finishes cutting, in insanely equal pieces, and places down the cutlery. he needs a pan with a dash of extra-virgin olive oil, pinches of salt and pepper and everything’s ready to be sautéed “mhh” a subtle hum along a conspiratorial nod. the food sizzles “i am. and i wish for him to be too.” he wishes, uh. it’s the turn of the eggs, gently beaten in a bowl “of course, mh–” he fakely clears his throat as he pours the yellow concoction in the pan, again, stirring to blend “i– i’d love if you could be happy too– with us.”

[rosywrites]

Silent Waves, Chapter 1

Title: Silent Waves (Siren Sona x Bounty Hunter/Pirate Jhin AU) Chapter 1: Drops of Blood Fandom: League of Legends Ship: Jhin x Sona

[AO3]

Word count: 3,930

Songs have power within their melodies. Some say it’s like magic, that it has the power to soothe the soul of its worries and troubles. Many would agree. While there is truth within those words, it is merely one side of the same coin.

“Out! All of you!” a voice calls out through the wooden hallway, each step heavy with panic. 

Songs have power within their melodies. 

“What?” Sailors perk up from their cots in a daze, not registering the frantic rocking of the ship. “W-what’s going on?”

But its power isn’t limited to soothing those who are troubled.

“We’re under attack!” another yells before the ship heaves onto its side, throwing panicked sailors overboard into whirlpools. Seawater begins to fill the ship as it sinks under the waves. The sailors fortunate enough to swim out lay their eyes upon the wreckage floating among the sharp rocks. 

Just what happened? There was no storm to cause this. Was it bad navigation?

Songs naturally have the power to attract anything with a heart.

“Hey, do you hear that?” a sailor asks in between coughs. “Music.”

Two sailors who had escaped alongside him exchange glances and listen. He was right. Though faint, they could hear music playing from a cave up ahead. It sounds like someone singing. The other survivors seem to hear it as well. They swim towards the cave, seeing a figure sitting on top of a rock lit by the sunlight above.

A woman. They don’t hesitate in getting closer, wondering if she was stranded. But one sailor, notably younger than the other two, doesn’t move from where he is. He feels something is wrong. He opens his mouth to warn the others, but his words are lost to the seawater that fills his lungs. 

Songs can lure unsuspecting prey by seeping into their hearts, their innermost desires and insecurities laid bare.

He struggles against something that’s pulling him under. It feels like a hand around his ankle. A cold, scaly hand. He sees colors of green, blue, purple and more glimmering under the water. For a moment, he thinks them beautiful. Then his vision fades to black as he runs out of air.

His hearing is the last to go before his imminent death. He hears a melody as clear as day. No words, no voice. Just a melody that puts him at ease as the sea welcomes another victim into its arms.

~.~.~.~

“Captain,” a voice gravely calls from behind a door. “They’re here.”

“Are they now?” In the far corner of the captain’s quarters by the window sits a man polishing an ivory white gun on his desk. One. Two. Three. Four. Four wipes, that’ll do the trick. “Stubborn bunch, aren’t they?”

“We’re holding them back as best as we can, but they’re being impatient.”

“Anyone dead?” the captain asks. 

“Not yet, sir.”

The captain clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Shame,” he responds as he stands up. “I suppose I’m ready to meet them. Tell them I’m on my way.” He hears the sailor run up the stairs after a curt salute. He folds up his sleeve into a neat roll and holsters his gun. Slipping on a leather mask that covers the lower half of his face, he squints with a glint in his eyes. “Time for a little show.”

  “Where is he?” a burly, bearded man barks at the men blocking the entrance of the ship.

“Sir, he’ll be right out.”

“You expect me to wait any longer when he’s the one who suggested this damn rendezvous? Near Demacia of all places?”

“Sir—”

The sound of clapping coming from the side catches their attention. “Gentleman, gentleman, no need to rush,” the captain says as he approaches the burly man. “Captain,” he greets, before the barrel of a gun is pointed at his head.

“Khada Jhin,” the man sneers. “Did you really think you can get away with the bounty all by yourself?” His eyes narrow as he gets closer to Jhin. “We made a deal, and you broke it.” He pulls back the hammer of his gun. “You wanna know what I do to traitors?”

Such a boorish man, Jhin muses. But he does not look fazed from the gun practically pressed against his forehead. He gazes into the other’s eyes throughout the exchange, a sinister spark in his own that unnerves the man. “Let’s not jump to conclusions so quickly, captain. It’s rather insulting—”

“No,” the captain interrupts. “I know the kind of bounty hunters you are. You spout some noble bullshit to let their guard down, and the moment they turn around, you shoot them. I ain’t gonna fall for that kind of trick, lad.”

At this, Jhin sighs with dramatic flair. “Is that so?” he asks. He looks back up into the captain’s eyes, that sinister look now fully evident on his face. “I’m glad to know this won’t last long, then.” In the blink of an eye, his gun is already in his hand with the hammer already cocked and ready to fire.

Before the man can pull his trigger, he falls by Jhin’s feet, dead. 

The gunshot echoes in the open sea for what seems like forever. 

A wisp of smoke rises from the barrel of Jhin’s gun. As the smoke blows past his face, his eyes scan the captain’s crew and his own. Three to his right. Two to his left. Six in the back. Four around his men. The moment the smoke disappears, he swings to his left and puts another bullet through another’s head. He ducks and rolls to the right, dodging three bullets shot into the door behind him.

His men take cover and shoot the six enemies behind them, as Jhin takes out two others. He reloads his gun and cocks the hammer. He inhales, smelling the aroma of gunpowder mixed with the scent of blood. How delightful, to be able to bask in this moment.

He shoots a man that was too distracted to check the barrels Jhin was hiding behind. One. Leaping over a downed enemy, he shoots another with the grace of a dancer. Two. With a twirl, he snipes one that’s trying to jump overboard. Three.

One more left.

Jhin spots the last remaining enemy, who drops his gun and makes a break for it. He takes a breath and holds his gun towards the back, where the heart is. He can just see the red petals bloom from the man’s chest, like a flower in the dawn.

But before he can pull the trigger, the last man falls from a gunshot to the head. Jhin’s chest tightens, as if he just suffered a great loss. His eyes widen and turn to the crewman who shot the last enemy dead. 

The crewman isn’t aware. He simply sighs in relief that this is all over.

But the other crewmen who understand that look in Jhin’s eyes exchange nervous glances. 

Jhin walks over to the crewman, looming over him eerily with his gun still in hand. The latter takes a noticeable gulp in fear. “So,” he starts, “do you think you can get away with what you just did?”

“Captain, I—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” he hushes, holding his finger to his mask. “You must understand. No one deprives me of the fourth shot. It just isn’t acceptable.” Before his crewman can respond, he holds the barrel of his gun to his forehead. “I’m afraid I can’t have that happening again.”

“P, please spare me, Captain,” the crewman pleads, tears welling up in his eyes. “It won’t happen again, please. I beg of you.”

Jhin only tuts at his pleas. “You should smile. Everyone is watching,” he whispers before he shoots the fourth shot through the man’s head, sending him toppling overboard into the sea. He peers over the edge, watching the blood seep into the waves like ink on paper. Behind the mask, he smiles in bliss.

The others stand in dreaded silence. They were always careful to not take Jhin’s fourth shots, but there was always one that made a mistake once in a while. And all those who did would die. 

“Well, gentleman. That’s the end of that.” Jhin turns back to the crew, who straighten up immediately. “I’m sure you all remember your oath when you joined this crew. I have stated this as clear as day: Some of you may die, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“Yes, captain!” his crew responds.

“Dismissed,” he says. “And clean up the deck. I’m sure the deep sea would appreciate the meal. Once you’re done, we set sail for Zaun.” He glances at the dead captain bleeding out by the door that leads inside the ship. “We have a bounty to collect.” He goes back into his quarters and closes the door behind him.

~.~.~.~

The sea seems troubled today. There’s a stir in the sounds of the waves. More than just a ship passing by. A battle, perhaps? Even the fish seem anxious. 

A hand brushes apart the kelp as a figure swims out towards the open sea. Aqua scales shimmer in the sunlight trickling through the surface of the sea, revealing the silhouette of a siren within the deep. Her hair blends with the deep blue sea, tips of green lit by the sunlight. The light reaches a small golden stringed instrument strapped to her hip, glinting dully in the water.

The siren remains still, listening to the sounds in the sea. Her face contorts in bewilderment at the faintest sounds she hears. It sounds like… 

“Blood.” 

The siren turns her head to the voice behind her. A fellow siren, who followed her out the kelp forest, flashes a toothy smile at her, her brows arched mischievously. The former’s brows furrow instead, averting her focus to her sense of smell. Ah, she smells the blood. Fresh blood of humans.

“Guess everyone might have a feast today,” the other comments once more before taking the siren’s hand. “Come on, Sona, we can’t stay out in the open sea for too long.”

Sona sighs, taking one last look towards the scent of blood, and follows the other back into the kelp forest. They swim through the thick stipes into an enclosed area on the sea floor. As they approach, markings on their skin glow a sea green in the dark, providing them light through the dark. Others slowly reveal themselves as they swim closer: her circle of sirens.

“So?” one asks Sona.

Waving her hand and arms around, she gestures the sounds of battle and the scent of blood. She points to the direction they come from. Though the scent of blood is fainter, the sounds still reach her ears. Whatever, or whoever, is throwing corpses into the sea had emerged victorious. 

“Should we check it out?”

“Maybe seduce them into the sea.”

“We haven’t had visitors in these parts in quite a long time, after all.”

Sona suddenly intervenes, waving her arms out to reject the idea. Something tells her the victor of that battle could easily kill them all. It sends shivers down her spine.

“But we don’t want to just sit here while they pass by us. That’s like letting easy prey escape.” The other sirens seem to agree. 

“Sona, if you’re worried, you can sit back for this one. We can bring back something for you.”

“It’d be a shame though. Sona’s music is foolproof in getting humans to fall for our trap.”

Foolproof, yes. But Sona can’t help but wonder if there even are fools on that ship. She chews her nails in thought, her sharp teeth almost biting into the skin. She looks up and starts to sign again, that she will scope the area to make sure it’s safe enough. A little test with her music wouldn’t hurt.

If her music works, then they feast.

But the thought of failure looms over Sona’s mind as she swims out to open sea, heading towards the direction of the ship. She remains cautious, as open waters tend to make it easy to be captured. She sticks closer to the bedrock and pokes her head out the corners.

The scent of blood is getting stronger. The sound of ships bobbing along the waves get louder as well. Sona stops under a rock arch, looking up at the hulls of the ships above. All around her are fresh corpses, all clearly dead. She examines one nearby and brushes aside the corpse’s hair to see a perfect hole in his forehead. A golden glint in the sea floor catches Sona’s eye.

Picking it up, she knows its shape immediately. A bullet. Many merfolks, including sirens, have fallen from these before. It’s another reason to never venture out into open waters alone. She’s heard plenty of nightmares from the few who survived, though they died shortly afterwards.

She traces her finger over the engraving on the metal, an organic design that she doesn’t seem to recognize. But it looks so… elegant. The sound of another body plunging into the ocean tears her eyes away, giving her enough room to evade the sinking corpse. Looking at all the other corpses, she sees most were shot dead by the same bullets. The others that weren’t aren’t shot as cleanly.

Maybe this is a bad idea.

Sona shakes her head and turns to swim back. 

But before she can escape the ship’s shadow, she finds herself tumbling through the sand, her vision spinning with red and white. She grips her shoulder in pain. Her nails dig into the skin, drawing more blood aside from the hole made by a bullet. Blood seeps out of her wound and dissipates above.

Suddenly, she hears people yelling from the ship, and the next thing she knows, she pinned down by a heavy net. Her eyes widen in horror when she sees the golden bullet roll in the sand. She scratches at the net desperately to cut it open but no no avail. 

Never stay in open waters for too long.  

The only rule among the merfolk to keep them safe.

Lest you become another tale of blood and foam.

The net wraps around her as it ascends, and she slams downward to force her way out. As the net breaks surface, Sona feels panic and dread pool in her stomach. She holds her instrument close to her chest and stays still as she’s carried onto the deck.

“A real mermaid…” a crewman whispers in awe when they see the face of a woman barely hidden by her hair and the fins of her tail. “Impossible.”

“The sea is full of surprises,” Jhin states. “The stories of merfolks had to come from somewhere.” He crouches to take a look at Sona more clearly. His eyes slightly squint in amusement at Sona’s expression of mixed horror and wariness. It was exactly the look of a cornered animal. “However, this is fascinating. I have never once thought I would one day capture a mermaid.”

Sona hisses at Jhin, managing to swipe at his face and tearing off his mask. The mask clatters across the wooden floor, the entire crew falling silent. A few hold their breath, never having seen Jhin’s mask forcibly ripped off his face before. Her eyes are fixated on the insidious smile on his face. 

“A good aim,” he responds with a raised eyebrow. “You’d certainly make me… quite a fortune, if I sell you.” He chuckles as he stands, but instead, he raises his gun at her. “But you would make such a fine masterpiece. I cannot pass this opportunity.”

No, she can’t die here. She takes a breath to gather her magic at her fingertips. Right as Jhin cocks the hammer and touches the trigger, she plucks the strings of her instrument. Her magic turns the sound into a sharp bolt that knocks the gun out of Jhin’s hands and even slashes the back of his hand. 

Jhin reels back with a hiss as he cradles his hand with the other. “You insolent…!”

Sona hisses again in smug defiance. Two men approach to restrain her, but she starts to play soft, quiet music that lulls them forward in a trance, allowing her to slash their exposed necks. They grip their wounds to stop the blood but end up choking on their own blood. Sona glares at the others, who refuse to come closer should they become the next victims. 

“Music?” Jhin mutters under his breath. Was it just his imagination, or did he hear music come from the mermaid? It takes him a moment, but he realizes this is not a mermaid. “A siren,” he concludes.

“Captain?”

“This one is not a mermaid,” he states louder, “She’s a siren. Get too close, and a single siren can lure sailors with their song to kill several.” At this, the crewmen backs away even farther from Sona, but Jhin approaches closer.

“W-what should we do then, sir? Can’t we just release her?”

Jhin shakes his head in fascination. “No. This one seems... special.” His eyes travel down from her gritted teeth to her neck, catching a glimpse of gold clutched in her hands. He watches her cradle it closer and hide it from his view. “An instrument-wielding siren. You don’t see that everyday.”

Sona breathes heavily, as the lack of water is beginning to take a toll on her body. Fish can’t usually survive out of water, but merfolks like her have a longer timespan to breathe air. But they can’t do it for long, or they too will end up like a fish out of water.

What’s more, she recognizes his language: Ionian. What would Ionians be doing so far out here in Demacia?

“Hghk,” Sona chokes, unable to breathe properly anymore. She starts wheezing, and she only just starts to feel the burning sun on her skin and scales. Her vision blurs and spins; she doesn’t have the strength to swipe at the hands that restrain her. It takes everything she has to keep her instrument in her grasp.

“I think,” Jhin muses out loud, “you would be an excellent addition to this ship.” He bends down to her eye level to show her the gash on the back of his hand. “Whether you like it or not.”

She glares at the man, but a smirk tugs at a corner of her lips, as if daring him to try to break her. It’s only before she falls unconscious that she sees a glimpse of the smile on Jhin’s face turn into an unsatisfied frown.

~.~.~.~

When Sona awakes, she finds herself in a dim corner of a wooden room. The water is tinted slightly orange from the sunset. She reaches out to touch a foreign object a few feet in front of her, only to be obstructed by an invisible barrier. Her brows furrow in panic as she starts reaching around. It’s all the same. Swimming above meets the same results as well. 

She’s trapped, just like the stories she’s heard of. This is a ‘tank���.

Her hands bang against the glass. Her nails scratch against it. But the glass is too thick, unbreakable, to make even a dent. She reels her arm back to make one last attempt to break it, but a white flash of pain stops her. Curling in with a hiss, she finds the shoulder she was shot at, bandaged. 

“I have to say, I didn’t think the movement in the water would end up being a siren. I thought that, somehow, one of them survived to tell the tale. Tried to survive, might I add.”

Her head jerks towards the direction of the muffled voice, immediately recognizing it to be the captain’s. Her eyes narrow at the figure that’s barely lit by the setting sun from the porthole.

Jhin sits on the corner of his table, his mask and a glass of wine by his side. His posture seems relaxed despite having his hand injured by her earlier. His gun is nowhere to be found. Seeing Sona’s wary eyes, Jhin chuckles. “My gun is in no condition to use, thanks to you,” he utters the last few words in spite. “Whatever you did, whatever magic you used, cut through the metal.” He clicks his tongue in further annoyance. “It would take days, perhaps even up to a week, to get replacement parts.”

Sona stares at him in deafening silence. There’s just something in the way her eyes seem to… bore a hole through him, like she’s staring deep down into his soul.

“I don’t suppose,” he pauses to reach behind him, “you’re looking for this.” He holds out the golden instrument she was holding prior. He watches her eyes widen in panic as her hands reach for her hip. “You really had an iron grip on this. It took my men forever to pry it out of your claws,” he continues. 

Bastard, Sona thinks. She curses herself for even getting caught in this mess. She was just supposed to scope the ship, but now she knows she stayed too long. This man was perceptive, and she should have left instead of investigating. And now she was stuck on a ship with no way to communicate to her circle. There aren’t any escapes either. She can only hope they don’t come after the ship to save her. Otherwise, they were just as dead as the other pirates that now slumber in the sea.

“Your little instrument is peculiar,” Jhin comments as he plucks a string, only silence following through. No matter how hard he strums, he hears nothing. “Not a single sound.”

Sona only blinks, making no indication of responding to him. She looks around the tank once last time before inaudibly sighing and perches herself on the uneven floor against the glass. She gazes out the porthole that’s placed near her tank. The sea glimmers orange and gold from the sunset as if it’s on fire.

“Giving the cold shoulder, are we?” Jhin asks without looking up, mesmerized by the instrument. “Can’t be that bad, being captured and all. It’s fortunate you’re not dead.”

She turns her head towards him with a mysterious look and turns back to the sea again.

Two can play at that game. Jhin knew it wasn’t going to be easy anyway. He knew plenty ways to get her to talk, even if it meant destroying the treasure he had just obtained. 

But first, his gun took priority. 

A bounty hunter can’t do their job without their tools, after all.

They would arrive at Zaun in 2 weeks. By the time they reach the gates, one of them will have surrendered. Both have no intention of giving in. 

Jhin takes a sip of his wine as he eyes Sona’s reflection in the glass of the porthole. She looks unamused with a hint of exasperation. To keep a siren in a tank in a dim room, he wonders what kind of results would occur. Insanity? Savagery? Agony? Despair? Desperation? The possibilities are endless. 

And he can’t wait to watch how she descends.

Sona’s lower lip slightly juts out in annoyance. At first, she panicked because of the stories she’s heard: merfolk eaten for longer lifespan or immortality, forced into entertainment for other humans, or tortured for their secrets. But seeing that she will be kept alive, she thinks of every plan possible to plot her escape. It seems the captain wants answers she can’t give. 

And she can’t wait to watch him break against her will.

[zenonaa]

Anniversary

Marinette had planned to sleep in this Sunday morning. Of course, if an akuma attacked, she would shoot out of bed and swing out of her window as Ladybug before her feet could touch her wooden flooring, but after the face-off with one of Manon’s classmates the previous night, an extra hour or two in bed wouldn’t be passed up. Just her, her bed and her long cat pillow...

A set of sharp raps on her trapdoor threatened the peaceful stupor that Marinette lay under like it was a second warm blanket. Her eyes remained closed but her brow furrowed.

“Oh, Marinette, dear! You have a guest,” came her mother’s voice from beneath the door.

The bed creaked as Marinette shifted. She sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes, holding in a yawn.

“Who is it?” she asked, expecting Alya, but it could always be one of her other classmates like Alix, Rose or Juleka.

To be honest, the hesitation before her mother answered should have given it away.

“It’s... Chloé,” said her mother.

Marinette tensed. She lowered her hands to shoulder level.

“Chloé...?” repeated Marinette. A pout puckered her lips. “What does she want?”

“I am here, you know!” Chloé piped up from the same direction as Marinette’s mother. “And I don’t have all day, so if you could move your butt, that would be great!”

Rather than incentivise Marinette, Chloé almost tempted Marinette into lying down again and maybe stuffing in earplugs too. However, resisting the urges that Chloé sparked in her, Marinette clenched her teeth and climbed out of bed instead.

“Just let me get dressed!” Marinette shouted, and once she stood up, she stretched her limbs.

“You’re not even dressed yet?” squawked Chloé, prompting Marinette to stop and narrow her eyes. Marinette took her time climbing down her ladder and padded over to her wardrobe with no sense of urgency.

After Marinette got dressed, she brushed her hair, and only then did she put her hairbrush down and call out, “I’m coming!”

She opened the trapdoor and descended the staircase, leaving behind the pink hues of her bedroom. Her mother and Chloé waited for her at the bottom in a white-walled section.

“Finally,” said Chloé, arms folded over her chest. “You took your time.”

“If you don’t want to be here, Chloé, you’re free to go,” defended Marinette’s mother, polite but with an edge to her voice.

“No! I want to be here!” Chloé said with a jolt, waving her hands. She got a hold of herself and faced Marinette. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders unsmilingly. “Dupain-Cheng...”

Chloé paused with her nose pointed up. For a few moments, she looked very apathetic like a professional model on a catwalk, but the facade crumbled fast and she clasped her hands together, shaking them pleadingly.

“... I need you to help me make some macarons,” begged Chloé, sticking out her bottom lip at Marinette who quirked her brow and placed her hands onto her hips.

Call her petty, but even once Marinette comprehended Chloé’s request, she waited a little bit longer so she could bask in it all.

“I didn’t realise that you liked them,” said Marinette coolly, raising her chin.

“Yes. No. Well, that’s not the point.” Chloé shook her head. She exhaled stiffly and looked away. “As you might already know, today is my six month anniversary with Kagami.”

“How could I not know?” asked Marinette, making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You’ve been going on about it all week, saying how Kagami was going to get you something amazing for the special occasion.”

“That’s all true, but see...” Chloé hunched her shoulders and winced. “I didn’t realise until Sabrina told me that Kagami is probably expecting something in return.”

Marinette could see where this was going and peered at her in disbelief.

“You didn’t realise?” asked Marinette, cocking her head. “How self-centred are you?”

“What are you, my lawyer?” snapped Chloé, and she flicked her wrist, momentarily haughty, but then she wavered. Her tone turned softer. “Listen... this is my first serious relationship, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Chloé cupped her elbow and cast her eyes downward, as if anxious. She must have been, but she rarely ever showed it around people, and seeing her like that now, Marinette blinked, relaxing her brow.

“I want to make something special, and the truth is, your macarons are amazing. I can see why Adrien is so taken with you,” said Chloé with less venom than expected.

Marinette twitched. “Adrien’s what?”

The response rejuvenated Chloé somehow, and she pointed suddenly at Marinette.

“Here’s the deal. You help me make some special macarons for my girlfriend, and I’ll give you a tell-all about Adrikins!” Chloé said, and her other fingers on that hand uncurled. “Deal?”

No one spoke, or barely moved. Marinette eyed Chloé’s hand until her mother put a hand on her shoulder. They looked at each other, and finally, Marinette turned her attention back to Chloé.

“Okay.” She shook Chloé’s hand. “Deal.”

A wide grin flashed across Chloé face, though she quickly played it cool and jerked her head.

“Then let’s get started already!” Chloé drawled.

The duo were basically already where they needed to be, as the staircase to Marinette’s room was located just beside the corner of the room where the kitchen area was. Marinette’s mother parted with a smile to help in the bakery, leaving the two alone.

“Have you made macarons before?” asked Marinette. She stepped onto the rug in the kitchen area, patterned with circular pink flowers on a white background accented with grey.

Chloé gave her a look.

“... I figured,” sighed Marinette, and she grabbed a shiny blue apron off a hook. It was embroidered with a bright floral design. A few seconds after, Chloé sidled up to her.

“Have you got any in pink?” asked Chloé, examining the leftovers.

Marinette didn’t bother answering, instead getting out all the necessary ingredients. In the end, after some deliberation, Chloé reluctantly picked a plain navy apron with the Chinese symbol for ‘love’ printed onto the front in black. They washed their hands and situated themselves at the large wooden counter, where Marinette had placed what they needed. One of the last things that Marinette set down were several bottles of food colouring.

“Right, let’s weigh everything out,” said Marinette.

That didn’t take too long. Chloé didn’t say much and let Marinette do it by herself, watching shrewdly. Marinette dusted her hands together afterwards.

“Okay, in this bowl, we’re going to mix the salt, almond flour and powdered sugar together until it’s really fine,” said Marinette, motioning to the bowl in question. “We can use an electric mixer for that part. Let me show you how to use it...”

Except when Marinette turned to it, Chloé piped up, “I said I’m making this! I’ll whisk it by hand.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows.

“Are you going to cook them in your hands too?” she asked dryly, but Chloé ignored her.

Chloé grabbed a whisk and began vigorously blending the mixture, splattering some onto the counter by accident. It would have taken less time if they just used the electric mixer, but as Marinette watched her, she suspected that nothing and no one would be able to quell the determination blazing in Chloé’s eyes.

When the mixture was sufficiently whisked, Marinette pulled another bowl closer to her.

“So here, we’ll beat egg whites with half a teaspoon of salt until it soft peaks, then add granulated sugar and mix until it stiff p-”

“You mean I will beat that whatever whatzit,” said Chloé sharply. She put down the bowl in her possession and dragged the other over.

Part of Marinette felt rubbed the wrong way, but another part was impressed, and it was the latter that melted into Marinette’s features, coming out on top. Marinette gave a small smile as Chloé got the next lot of ingredients together. For a while, Marinette kept a supervisory role, telling Chloé what and how much to add and when, and Chloé for once didn’t complain about being told what to do.

“So... how did you and Kagami become a couple?” asked Marinette while Chloé added in vanilla extract and red food colouring.

“Oh... you know,” said Chloé vaguely, but Marinette really didn’t. One day, Chloé just flounced into class and boasted about her girlfriend loudly like they had always been dating. Fortunately, Chloé rambled on. “We met again at a party that you weren’t at, of course, because otherwise you’d know. We got talking and...”

Chloé trailed off. Marinette leaned closer.

“And?” prompted Marinette.

“What do I do next?” asked Chloé, which made Marinette hesitate.

“Combine about a third of the first mixture with the second mixture and fold it in. Then do it again,” said Marinette hurriedly. She patted the counter with both hands. “Now tell me! I thought you both liked Adrien.”

First, Chloé did what Marinette said, and then she answered.

“Well, yeah, but me and Adrien are like, good friends. I mean if I had to date a guy, I’d feel safe with him because I’ve known him since forever, and he’s perfect for my image, but I’m more comfortable with girls.”

She added in more of the second mixture, not looking at Marinette.

“Boys are annoying. Anyway, we talked about our families... like... like our mothers.” Chloé sounded uncomfortable, but she pushed through it. “And I was showing off a bit,” a lot, knowing her, “and like... she invited me to go ice skating because I said I was really good at it. Which is true. And we like, went on more of those outings. Skating, bowling, birdwatching, movies... restaurants, and like...”

Chloé had to transfer the macaron batter to a piping bag next. Marinette supported her through that with minimal dialogue as well as helped with the parchment paper.

“... so yeah,” finished Chloé. “Kagami’s actually really cool. She says what’s on her mind like I do, and we’re both no nonsense people. She’s going to teach me martial arts and braille. And we’re going to England next weekend with my dad, and I’m going to show Kagami all the sights worth seeing. It’s going to be so totally spectacular.”

Marinette smiled, gazing at Chloé sidelong. “You really like each other, huh?”

“Of course!” Chloé huffed. “You’ve got eyes, right? She’s gorgeous! And she is like really impressed by my hard work as Queen Bee. Kagami has to be all serious all the time, but I can help bring her out of her shell and she goes so red at my pet names, it’s absolutely adorbs. She appreciates my frankness too and like, we just say whatever, you know? She calls me out and I call her out. We’re such a good balance.”

They really were. Marinette nodded.

“That’s what Adrien said. He encouraged Kagami to give me another chance after our bomb of a first meeting,” elaborated Chloé. She grinned into space. “And like, sometimes, Kagami doesn’t want to speak up or make a fuss, and I’m happy to do it for both of us.”

“Wow, I’m so pleased for you, Chloé,” said Marinette warmly, genuine.

The two of them worked in silence for the next part, and soon the macarons were done for now. Though they still had to cook them and make the buttercream, the macarons weren’t ready for that yet.

“We have to let them sit for an hour,” Marinette told her. She turned to Chloé fully. “Um... while we wait, do you want to watch TV or something?”

“I’m a very busy person, Dupain-Cheng,” said Chloé. “But... sure. Do you like fashion shows?”

“I love them!”

“Good! We’ll watch them then!”

And the rest of the morning wasn’t half-bad. In fact, as they sat on the couch together, gushing over the models and their outfits, Marinette thought it looked like it was going to be actually kind of alright.

[eyesicedive]

of summer and a broken arm

it was a week before summer holiday finally came when donghyuck broke his right arm.

well, he was supposed to spend the weekend with mark as just per usual but mark had to go out of the town for family gathering and donghyuck, as though he had no other options, wander around his garage out of boredom  — long enough until he unexpectedly found his old black bmx bike in the deepest corner of it, then eagerly rode it as though he was still at the size when he was first received the bike as his birthday present half decade ago. he was too preoccupied in exerting all of his strength to pedal his bike to notice that the chain was already too dilapidated and that the brakes had been removed from the handlebar by his dad since long ago.

and that was it, donghyuck fell into the warm asphalt, stupidly stretched out his arm first as a reflex to protect his upper body.

mark just figured it out on the next day after he couldn’t find donghyuck’s presence when he came to his class during recess. mark was almost pissed because he neither could contact donghyuck nor got any notifications from the latter since yesterday but once he was told by jeno — who he recognized as donghyuck’s desk mate — about donghyuck's current circumstance, mark immediately made sure that he didn’t have any club activities so that he could go straight to donghyuck’s house once school was over. the moment he saw donghyuck opened the bedroom door for him, mark stunned for a brief moment.

“hyuck, you look…” mark pushes his round glasses higher on his nose bridge as he’s examining donghyuck from head to toe, pausing in the middle to get a better look at the sling on his right arm before continuing with, “badass.” because instead of look like he had just fall off the bike, donghyuck rather looks like he'd just gotten into a fight with some mobsters, mark thinks, but he chooses to not state it directly to donghyuck.

donghyuck only deadpans and snorts as a response.

the soft grunt from the whirring fan near donghyuck’s bed being the background noise as the injured boy recounts in details how he fell with adding some unnecessary dramatization. mark grimaces in pain while his hands playing with donghyuck's bangs, keeping it from covering donghyuck’s face because of the blowing air from the fan. his lap propping donghyuck's head since the latter still feels too sore to sit properly. 

“but hyuck, i still don’t get it how you got those wounds? i mean, how did you fall? this one cut on your lips looks pretty cool,” mark carelessly brushes his thumb on the said scar and without missing a beat donghyuck slaps mark’s hand vigorously with his uninjured one and glares daggers at him.

“hyung! it stings!” donghyuck exclaims and hisses in pain.

mark murmurs sorrys as he draws his hand away from donghyuck’s face. “it just… those scars look good on you.”

donghyuck rolls his eyes yet fails at the attempt to hide his smug smile. contrary to his mom who upsets with the wounds that littered his son’s beautiful face, he rather pleased with how the wounds kind of adorned it. he admits it that he got a few cool wounds — like the cut on the corner of his lips, a scrape above his left eyes, and another cut on his left cheek — when he looked at himself in the mirror this morning.

yet, as much as he delighted with his fresh look, it doesn’t change the fact that the amount of minor blisters on his hands and raw scabs on his feet also bruises on his back make his whole body feels sore and it sucks when the only way to relieve the pain is just to lie down on his bed. not to mention that he has to wear a sling on his right arm until the summer holiday ends. for the sake of god, he almost bawled his eyes out in the hospital when he heard the doctor said exactly that.

“instead of praising my wounds you can pray for my fast recovery hyung. i don't want to end up spending my whole summer in my bedroom with this sore feeling, helplessly...,” donghyuck trails off and lets out a long, heavy sigh as he playing with mark’s uniform with his uninjured hand.

“of course! and i don’t mind spending my summer holiday accompanying you though,” mark is combing donghyuck's hair and continues as he glances at donghyuck’s right arm in sympathy, “like, you know, i don’t think your arm will get better in a week or two.” 

donghyuck closes his eyes in frustration and whines as he buries his face on mark’s torso. his wounds hurt against mark’s uniform but he couldn’t careless. summer has always been his time of the year. it has always been like that since forever and the idea that he has to sacrifice his summer holiday for his recovery which means he can’t spend it outside, basking in the heat of summer sun, with mark — though the latter said he’s willing to spend it accompanying him — irritates the hell out of him. he’s never been this devastated his whole life.

“hey, hey, it’s okay. i believe we can still make it as fun as last year,” mark’s ruffles donghyuck's hair and only stops when the latter draws his face back to look at mark square in the eyes.

“oh great,” donghyuck says, voice clearly feigning excitement. “then what’s your plan? any idea?” donghyuck raises an eyebrow up, looking expectantly at mark who just blinks, obviously in the middle of ransacking his brain to bring any idea out. donghyuck lowkey hopes mark can actually come up with a plausible plan but a minute passed and donghyuck concedes that this summer is going to feel like a shit. oh, he already misses the summer heat outside when he glances at his bedroom windows.

“see? when all i can do is lie do-”

“no, we have one.” mark says, rather tentatively.

“what?” donghyuck quirks an eyebrow.

“this,” mark says and without missing a beat leaning down and plants a light kiss at the uninjured corner of donghyuck's lips.

down there, donghyuck grows red in an instant, utterly flabbergasted.

donghyuck opens and closes his mouth few times, not sure about what he should throws at mark; curses or asks him to repeat what he has just done but donghyuck is not the one to go easy even when it’s come to his own boyfriend.

“i swear to god mark le-”

mark holds donghyuck's neck and leaning down again. his glasses bumps with donghyuck's nose. the kiss lasts a tad longer than the previous one and donghyuck just want to curse and curse the hell out of mark when he notices a teasing twitch at the corner of the older’s lips when the older pulls away.

“fuc- shit did you just take advanta-”

this time, mark misses the timing and he pecks donghyuck's foretooth instead. tingles start to emerge inside donghyuck's stomach in no time. mark definitely takes advantage of his current incapacity.

“fucking stop it or i wi-”

mark, little bit fumbling, kisses donghyuck's chin but he hastily finds donghyuck lips again and give it light pecks.

the tingles grows rapidly, goes up to his head and makes donghyuck giddy. having loss of words, donghyuck bites his lip to prevent smile to spread across his face. he glares at mark but then reached out to takes off the latter’s glasses with his uninjured hand and folds it in his palm.

“holy shit mark at least do it properly.”

mark’s laugh is contagious and donghyuck just can’t take it anymore so he pulls mark’s tie while still makes sure to keep mark’s glasses safe in his palm. they giggle at each other lips and it doesn’t take long until donghyuck put mark’s glasses aside and uses his uninjured hand to trails at mark’s jaws before pulls mark’s neck delicately to deepen their kiss.

this summer might not turn out to be as fun as last year but, hell, donghyuck doesn’t mind.

[franklyshipping]

Happy New Year ~ An Ego Fanfiction

Word Count: 28, 758

Characters:….fuckin….everyone.

SFW. With romantic, platonic, and familial relationships…..and of course, tickling.

———————————————————————————————————–

This is to wish everybody out there, a happy new year. I love you all.

Now…..where to begin. A place of warmth I think, to introduce you to our tale. This is to be an observation of a family on New Year’s Eve. A rather obscure family, I grant you, who have certainly had their many ups and downs; but a true family gets through it all, which they have. There are multiple scenes and scenarios and events to occur this evening so I advise you to be patient and take your time as you, like me, observe them and see them unfold in all their beauty. Ah, I think the first is about to occur…..walk with me.

They have the loveliest living space, split into three to make the whole ground space seem more homely and connected; I think it works. Here we are at the west side, I think it would be characterised as “the main living area”. The floor is a beautifully plain and simple white tile, and it's like this because of how this household has a particular preference for its bold and unique furnishings; most likely to adhere to the styles of its inhabitants. It’s a nice sentiment, since I think we both know how…..unsavoury, other households can be. At first glance though you may think me a liar, since the two couches here are rather plain in themselves as they rest in light beiges and browns; their cushions were of similarly gentle hues, being light blues and yellows. These dim palettes were necessary however, due to the vivacity of those who resided and nestled in their warm havens.

For instance, sat together on the beige and yellow furnishings were two esteemed gentlemen. Dr Iplier and the Host. The couple were contently nestled, leaning gently upon one another. The latter hummed a gentle melody, which soothed and swept through the gentle chatter that was all around them, whilst the former listened and lazily inspected the sandwich that he held. The doctor was still feeling inherently festive, thus meaning that his article of nourishment had copious amounts of turkey scraps, as well as a light relish. It also happened to be his third of the evening, but he didn’t really care; he was bold like that.

Perpendicular to that gentle sight lay another, in quite a literal sense now that I think about it. A magician and his enhanced companion. This particular couple were rather more……strewn, than neatly nestled, but were still perfectly content. Marvin was half-upright at one end of their couch, his legs lay across the extent of the furniture, all the while Jackie-Boy Man was…..on top of him. He was on his back, lying on his magician’s legs as his head rested in said man’s lap; neither man could complain however. The hero was smiling with relaxed joy since Marvin had decided to nestle his hands in his hair, and was constantly carding through the locks and massaging his scalp with a beautiful gentleness. Marvin, too, was in heaven. The feeling of Jackie’s hair was smooth and calming between his fingers, and the close proximity that they shared made Marvin sigh and hum; he could feeling his chest and general core getting warmer with every passing second.

However, this was not all. For in Marvin’s other hand, he held a sandwich that was practically identical to that of the doctor’s; they both had truly excellent festive tastes. Marvin was so convinced of this fact, that he couldn’t help but ramble about it to the man in his lap; having copious amounts of food and beverages that your body and mind aren’t used to, can often lead to such rambly giddiness. Not that Jackie minded, quite the opposite really.

‘You just can’t beat it, it is THE most festive choice of food that you could possibly get! You’d think turkey sandwiches would only appear in brand ads or cheesy seasonal movies, but no! They actually happen! Isn’t it awesome?’

Jackie couldn’t keep the smile off his face at the entire situation. His boyfriend. His intelligent, sane, and magically gifted boyfriend…..was ranting about his love for a sandwich. A…..goddamn…..sandwich. Only on the eve of a fresh year could such randomness have been brought to the surface.

‘Oh yeah, it’s totally awesome!’

Jackie grinned as Marvin smiled happily at his agreement and enthusiasm, and Jackie couldn’t help but feel joyful at how excited Marvin was at such a small thing. Whenever Marvin was happy, so was Jackie; now, it could just be coincidental couple-y instinct….but on New Year’s Eve, I don’t think you can deny the magic in the air. Suddenly however, Marvin furrowed his eyebrows with a small gasp.

‘Wait! You haven’t even tried one before!’

…..they had never even touched on this kind of topic of conversation before, so Jackie wasn’t even going to question how Marvin knew this; he put it down to voodoo. He smiled up at Marvin with a minute shrug.

‘Mmm….it’s not THAT important though….’

Marvin let out another gasp. Whether it was genuine, or had the intent of being comical, it still made Jackie let out a few gentle giggles. Marvin’s mouth was agape and his eyebrows had risen so much that they had actually risen above the edge of his mask, a truly rare occurrence; Jackie’s grin was wide as Marvin spoke with heavy indignance.

‘Of COURSE it’s that important! It’s the lifeblood of our festive culture!’

Jackie raised an eyebrow.

‘The lifeblood of our festive culture…..is a sandwich?’

Jackie was trying to repress more intense fits of giggles from erupting as Marvin nodded, with intense vigour and enthusiasm might I add.

'Yes! Look, just try it and I guarantee that you will be enlightened…..’

Marvin’s hand suddenly shifted as it hovered the sandwich right above Jackie’s head, which made the latter giggle wholeheartedly as he shook his head with a wide smile.

'Ihi don’t want toho be enlightened by aha sandwihich!’

Jackie immediately started to try and push Marvin’s sandwich bearing hand away, but the magician was determined. He grinned at Jackie’s attempts to bat him away as he kept trying to lower the sandwich towards his face.

'Accept your fate hero!’

Jackie felt his cheeks pinken at the nickname as he continued shaking his head, continuing to try and resist his boyfriend’s goofy attempts to feed him.

'Neheheveeeeer!’

Jackie donned his heroic demeanour as he and Marvin batted at one another playfully, whilst also get progressively more covered in breadcrumbs; oops. well at least they could wait until next year before they had to hoover it…..ahem. Whilst that tussle was occurring however, it seems that so was another; except this tussle was more of a verbal spar. If we return to the second couch in the room we would happen across Dr Iplier, an esteemed medical professional with a multitude of PhD’s…..administering “puppy eyes”. Because he too had undertaken the difficult task of convincing his significant other…..to partake in the consumption of a turkey sandwich. The doctor was well practised when it came to convincing the Host…..primarily because he elected to try and be as cute and adorable as he possibly could without embarrassing himself.

'Pleeeeeease? Just one little bite?’

The Host’s lips were twitching in an effort not to smile at Iplier’s utter childishness and silliness. The Host knew how petty and silly it all was, and yet he couldn’t help but love it when Iplier made it his mission to try and convince him to do something. It mean that the Host could bask in the doctor’s unmatched cuteness.

'The doctor’s attempts at “puppy eyes” do not sway the Host’s opinion.’

Iplier pouted, meaning that the Host had to repress a small chuckle as he mentally sighed; what on earth did he do to deserve this stunning man in his life? Iplier was inching closer to him and had decided to rest his chin on the Host’s shoulder as he gazed at him with an innocent, longing expression.

'Pleeeease? I might cry if you don’t…..’

The Host had to nibble his lip to stop a giggle coming forth as Iplier trailed off with a tone of moroseness, his eyes were actually glazing a little…..but internally, Iplier was fighting the urge to stop his façade and just smush the sandwich into the Host’s face there and then. But Iplier figured that the Host wouldn’t thank him for that, so he refrained. Iplier looked at the Host hopefully as said man turned his head towards him with a small smile.

'The doctor’s tears would only end up hindering his stunning complexion…..’

Iplier felt his cheeks heating up……goddammit with the Host and his smooth talking compliments;…..oh who was he kidding, Iplier loved them. He deepened his pout though, leaning into the Host more as he softened his voice.

'I might cry on everything you hold most dear….’

Iplier thought for a moment that he’d struck gold when the Host turned to him fully, but the man only smiled wider with a hint of mischief as he uttered.

'The doctor would only then be crying on himself.’

Iplier blushed. And I mean he properly blushed, his cheeks only got redder and redder as the Host let his triumphant grin roam free; I think it was relatively safe to say that he was pleased with himself.

'You sir…..do not play fair.’

The Host chuckled at the doctor’s faked tone of seriousness and dejectedness, whilst Iplier himself let out a little huff of air as his eyes scanned his boyfriend’s acute smugness.

'The Host never does, darling.’

The Host was wholly prideful, completely under the impression that he had been victorious since he sensed that Iplier’s mind had begun to wander. The doctor let his gaze flick round, glancing to the ground near him where the one and only Robbie was sat; the zombie was happily playing with some turkey bones…..at least, Iplier assumed that’s where they’d originated. He was about to voice his curiosity, when a sudden frantic voice cut through the air; it very nearly made him jump.

'Waitwaitwait NOHO! Thahat’s nahahat fahahair!’

Iplier perked up at the sound of Jackie’s frantic pleas, and he felt a fond smile develop as he witnessed the sight of Marvin using one of his hands to scratch over the hero’s belly with the most tickly intentions. His other hand was elevated, and purposefully grasping his sandwich as Marvin kept trying to inch it closer to Jackie’s face. Said man was conflicted between stopping the edible onslaught, and stopping the onslaught at his tummy; as a result, his hands were batting out randomly as he spluttered and cackled.

'MAHAHAHARVY PLEHEHEHEASE! DOHOHON’T DOHOHO IHIHIT!!’

Iplier chuckled when he saw Marvin smirk and cock his head, the determination and mischief seemed to just eradiate from him…..and the doctor could almost feel those emotions beginning to bubble up in himself too. All the while the magician cooed.

'Awwww, is da ickle hero too tickliiiiish? Maaaaybe if he surrendered, he wouldn’t have to go through this VILLAINOUS torture…..’

Jackie squealed as Marvin’s hand roamed more, reaching further up his torso to pinch and prod at his ribcage. This ended up bringing forth a few rather loud snorts, thus making Jackie-Boy Man’s cheeks heat up to practically match his own licra get-up.

'YOHOHOU’RE AHA MEHEHEHANIHIE!!’

Jackie wailed as he tried clamping his arms down to deflect Marvin’s evil rib scratches, but it did nothing to hinder the magician’s efforts; Marvin narrowed his eyes behind his mask as he donned a sudden gleam of intimidation.

'First you reject my sandwich, and now you have the audacity to insult me? Oh you are so asking for it….’

Jackie’s eyes widened as Marvin’s attacking hand suddenly shot up to reach his neck and ears…..and the poor hero was lost. He was a squeaky, snorting, hysterical mess as Marvin’s fingertips teased behind his ears and down the sides of his unprotected neck. Iplier, who was still only observing, scrunched his own shoulders in empathy as shrill laughter penetrated the air.

'NAHAHAHAHAHA!! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE!!!’

Marvin was having the time of his life, his smile was wide and evil and…..frankly, magnificent. It was one of his favourite hobbies to reduce poor Jackie to a blushing, blubbering mess; he could never resist the temptation.

'Poor heroooo…..so ticklish and completely at my mercy….’

As Marvin teased, Iplier suddenly felt something. Not just a shiver of empathy, but also a small light-bulb moment; a moment…..of inspiration. He looked to the other couple for a few more moments more, before turning back and fixing his gaze upon the Host. Said man had also been observing the scene with heavy empathy for Jackie, but at Iplier’s very sudden attention switch, he tensed. The Host hoped to god that Iplier wasn’t planning what he thought he was planning.

'Why so tense sweetheart?’

Butterflies rose in the Host’s tummy at Iplier’s innocent query; oh no. The Host could feel the mischief and utter giddiness swooping from Iplier in waves, and he only tensed more as he replied.

Th-the Host hadn’t realised he had b-been tense……’

Iplier grinned gradually. He knew that the Host knew what was in store for him……and the doctor loved how that foreknowledge flustered the crap out of him, and he hadn’t even had to lift a finger. Yet.

'Aw babe, maybe a snack will help you relax?’

The pair of them had to bite back sniggers as Iplier maintained his innocent façade, all the while the Host was trying to think of something…..anything he could say that would dissuade the doctor from his new goal. He could think of nothing, so he settled for weak protesting; at least it would allow him to mentally prepare…..somewhat.

'The Host doubts that very much…..’

Iplier grinned wider as he shuffled and sat up on the couch……sandwich in one hand, whilst the other was already twitching and itching to get to work.

'Well, I’m a doctor…..I know what’s best. So either, you can accept my treatment offer, or I may have to resort to alternative methods.’

The Host gulped a little, and flinched when Iplier’s spare hand started to walk itself over his shirt covered tummy. Iplier’s fingers were delicate and almost exploratory, as their owner gazed at the Host with an expectant expression. the Host inhaled, before mumbling.

'Th-the Host w-wihill not accept y-yohour treatment.’

There was a brief moment of silence between them, before Iplier’s fingers suddenly curled over the Host’s belly; just as Iplier’s lips curled into a devious smirk.

'Oh….we’ll see about that.’

The Host was immediately encased in giggles as he tried to squirm away from Iplier’s deviously gentle attack. His fingers had decided to roam and skitter underneath the Host’s shirt so that they could tease his wonderfully sensitive tummy and waistline; the Host cheeks by this point also held a gentle, rosy hue.

'Th-thihihis ihisn’t aha cehertifihied medicahal treheheheatmehent!!’

The Host squeaked as his hands rushed to cover his face, which was pure adorableness in itself since this reflected how he in fact made no move to stop his devious doctor. Iplier let himself relax as his fingers scratched and scraped, and he relished in the giggles and flinches and little bucks that he drew out. The doctor also took the opportunity to don a serious, and intimidating façade of his own; I did say he’d been inspired.

'I hope you’re not questioning my credibility as a doctor…..that would be incredibly unwise….’

The Host’s cheeks continued to burn as he shivered at Iplier’s words, all the while he still wriggled and let out a train of squeaky giggles that showed no sign of dying down.

'B-buhuhuhut ihihit’s nahahat aha treheatmehent!! Ihihi ohonly speheheak the truhuhuth!!’

The Host tried to insist with a shred of seriousness, but he only succeeded in whining giddily as he tried to keep breathing steady……but let’s face it, he was completely gone by this point. His switched speech perspective only cemented that fact. Iplier though…..he was feeling far more determined. He shifted his body so that he was lying on his front on the Host’s legs so his head was above his belly; Iplier’s hand stayed nestled under his shirt so he could keep his boyfriend in his stunning giggle fit.

'Oh Host……oh my sweet, sweet Host.’

Iplier’s delicate muttering kept the Host on edge as he nibbled his lip and tried to perceive what was going to happen…..but he had no focus; to be fair though, in this particular scenario the Host found that he preferred it that way. Iplier smiled widely.

'First, you reject my treatment…..and now you have the utter gall to disrespect my medical position? You are so in for it…..’

Iplier’s tone shifted to that of a deep growl as his words trailed off, making the Host whimper and shake his head as he smiled widely and nervously. Because now, Iplier’s previously tickling hand had moved so that it could force the Host’s shirt up so that the majority of the Host’s torso was exposed.Iplier took a moment to observe the Host’s belly, rising and falling with his jittery breaths, but Iplier soon refocused as he rested his roughly stubbled chin upon it. There was a pause…….before Iplier smirked and leant down to begin roughly nuzzling aaaall over every piece of exposed skin he could reach.

'NAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHO NUHUHUZZLIHING!!’

Iplier chuckled satisfactorily at the Host’s reaction, both he and the Host knew how ticklish his torso could be……especially when it was subjected to the doctor’s rough, scratchy stubble. Iplier tutted with a smirk.

'You know you’ve only brought this on yourself……god what an adoooorable ticklish thing you aaaare!’

Iplier cooed as he purposefully brushed over the Host’s navel, which earnt him snorts and bucks galore as the Host’s cheeks burned with his embarrassment.

'NAHAHAHA!! AHA SAHANDWIHICH DOHOESN’T WARRAHANT THIHIS TOHORTUHUHURE!!’

The Host gasped for air amidst his laughter as he bucked and wriggled, his voice many octaves higher than usual which was just so precious in itself. I must say……in that moment the room was alive. The Host’s laughter seemed to mix with Jackie’s squealing hysteria in a unique way, in a way that you could say made them compliment one another; in a rather frantic, and desperate melody. It was clear to see that they were both close to giving in to their tormentors, then again, we all knew that that was an inevitability. Both Iplier and Marvin could see it. Iplier chuckled gently amidst his intense nuzzling whilst also including a few cheeky nibbles into his torturous mix.

'Torture? Wow, I must have really underestimated how ticklish you are…..’

Iplier trailed off as he purred and decided to nibble and nip sloppily at the flesh, which made the Host cry out and wail desperately.

'AHHHHHHH NAHAHAT THAHAHAT!!!’

The Host shrieked, making Iplier pause for a moment. The doctor was almost euphoric with feelings of mischief that coursed through him, but he was still a good man at heart. He took a moment to glance over to their neighbours, and smiled at the sight of Jackie’s red-faced hysteria; caused only by a few flutters and squeezes at his collar bones…….hm, interesting spot. The doctor turned back to the Host, with a wide grin on his face as he spoke.

'You seem quite desperate darling……so let me offer you, a choice.’

The Host gulped as he continued to grin nervously, Iplier’s pause certainly made the whole anticipatory aspect worse. Iplier smirked at his silence, so he filled it.

'Either you eat some of this sandwich…..or I eat you.’

The Host’s breath got caught in his throat at Iplier’s words, and a sharp chill went down his spine as said man grinned ferally and began to inch closer and closer toedge of the Host’s navel. Now the Host was a strong individual, make no mistake…..but even he had limits.

'O-ohokay okay! J-juhust don’t do it, I-I’ll dihie!’

There was a moment of silence before Iplier let out a train of light chuckles, and he reared up and away from the Host’s torso so he could lean and peck him on the lips.

'For once, I can definately say that that won’t happen.’

The Host let out a few tittery giggles as he began to catch his breath and sink into the couch, all the while a certain hero was close to finally conceding himself. Poor Jackie. Such an unorthodox place to be sensitive, the collar and shoulders. Every squeeze and pinch sent shocks and jumps through his neck and ears whilst his spine tingled constantly. His shoulders were scrunched, but the rest of him seemed to be frozen as he threw his head back in wild mirth.

'PLEHEHEHEASE!!! MAHAHAHARVY!!!’

Marvin couldn’t help but feel a bit bad, despite how much fun he was having. The magician still however, couldn’t believe his luck at the discovery of this new, and deliciously sensitive, spot on his boyfriend’s body. He couldn’t wait to exploit it in the future, because he knew that now……this beautiful venture was coming to a close.

'Come on baby, you know what I wanna heeeear!’

Marvin sing-songed…..and at last, the great Jackie-Boy Man had to cave in, before he completely lost his sanity.

'OHOHOHOKAHAHAY!!! IHIHI’LL EHEHEHEHEA-!!!’

His voice cracked as he fell into silent laughter, his face was red and tears were threatening to escape his shining eyes as he thrashed beneath Marvin. Said man immediatly withdrew his hand, observing for a few moments before whispering in a soft tone. The fact that Jackie hadn’t even managed to finish his statement made Marvin worry about whether he’d gone too far.

'Are…….are you okay?’

Marvin gazed at Jackie tentatively as the latter gasped for air as he too gazed at the other, but a large smile stayed plastered on his lips as he gave a weak thumbs up.

'Ohof course……Ihi’m a superhero!’

Marvin giggled as Jackie grinned enthusiastically, and without another word Marvin refocused on the sandwich that he, miraculously, still held. He tore off a small chuck and went to put it in Jackie’s mouth; yes, he was going to feed his boyfriend food, it’s romantic and beautifully soppy so deal with it. Jackie certainly didn’t complain as he ate, he needed to replenish his energy somehow; and the sandwich actually tasted pretty damn good. The Host’s need was similar, he needed energy so that he could refocus his mind……so it made sense for Iplier to feed him too, rather than him feeding himself. It was a rather uniquely synced scene. After a few minutes, both the Host and Jackie were back to their old selves and even shared a nod between each other; they had both suffered, and been rewarded. Marvin and Iplier shared a smirk too, they’d both been victorious. The whole thing was about to return back to normal……until the Host felt something strong. An emotion. An emotion of……dejectedness, and sadness. It was at that point that the Host remembered. Robbie.

'Hey…..babe are you okay?’

The Host faced his doctor at the sound of his caring words, and Marvin and Jackie both diverted their attentions to the Host too. Mild curiosity encompassed them as the Host took a light breath and mumbled.

’……Robbie.’

———————————————————————————————————–

The four of them suddenly turned to look at the space before them, where the small zombie sat cross-legged on his striped rug of alternating purples. His head had shot up at the sound of his name, and then he proceeded to shrink down a bit as he felt everyone’s attention on him. The poor boy was a little nervous……and indeed, dejected. He loved that his friends were happy, he loved it so much because that he was always surrounded by love and happiness and pure, joyous commitment. And yet…..he was never really part of that love, so it sometimes left him wondering whether people had any kind of love for him at all. Robbie nibbled his lip as he hugged his knees to his chest, eyes flicking between the four men as he mumbled.

’…….why is everyone staring at Robbie?’

His small voice seemed to pirouette through the room, holding tones of nervousness and innocent, curious abandonment. Iplier, Jackie and Marvin stayed silent as they looked to the Host, thus encouraging Robbie to do the same as said man tilted his head.

'The Host perceives that Robbie……feels left out…..’

The Host was deciphering his perceptions carefully, whilst Robbie hastened to shake his head and offer a weak smile.

'No no! Robbie is happy and fine! Robbie is not left out of anything!’

He convinced no-one, and the attention reverted back to the Host as he muttered, sighing as little bubbles of fondness fizzled in his chest.

'Robbie thinks that, because we are in love with one another……we don’t have enough love for him.’

The other three let out little, sad individual gasps as Robbie hastily looked to the floor whilst nibbling his lip, his grey fingers fiddling with one another gently. It felt strange to hear his own thoughts and feelings being spoken aloud by someone else……and the Host was about to say something more until Iplier lightly touched his forearm. The doctor gave him a glance which caused the Host to close his mouth slowly, a small understanding smile rising up as Iplier withdrew from him. The doctor slid from their couch onto the ground, and slowly shuffled towards Robbie until he was sat next to him; Iplier was cross-legged on the rug as he peered at him with gentleness in his demeanour.

'Robbie, we may be in love with each other, but that doesn’t mean we don’t love you.’

Robbie knawed on his lip as he tried to process Iplier’s words, and yet the poor guy still couldn’t seem to get his head around it.

'But……Robbie doesn’t understand? If Doctor Ippy and Marvy give all their love to Hosty and Jackie…..then they won’t have any more for Robbie.’

Iplier felt his heart melt at the words, the poor guy still didn’t understand. The doctor tried to rack his brains, and was about to try and explain it in a relatively simple way, but then another voice joined the fray.

'Hey Robbie……no-one ever really runs out of love. Love is more of a feeling, and it isn’t really something that can be made into an amount.’

Iplier felt himself smile as he saw that Marvin had also decided to shuffle forth, and was sat half-hugging his knees at Robbie’s other side. Iplier decided to let the magician do the talking…..the doctor figured that Marvin had the scenario solved. Robbie had already perked up by a small fraction, and his head was tilted slightly in Marvin’s direction and you could see a small shine behind his eyes; his brain was working hard……and understanding.

'So……everyone always has enough?’

Robbie’s voice was still a little quiet, but Marvin could see that Robbie was really trying here……and was close to succeeding. The magician smiled gently, his hazel eyes glinting softly as he kept his voice low and clear.

'Mhm. Always. Yes…..I do love Jackie with all my heart and I’m pretty sure that the doc does with the Host-…..’

Iplier smiled widely,and let out a small chuckle when he saw the Host’s cheeks go a little pink; as did the neighbouring hero’s, even though his eyelids were beginning to droop.

’-but, that’s a different type of love, so you never have to worry about us not loving you. The love we have for you is unique, because it’s for you.’

Marvin couldn’t help but feel ever so slightly pleased with himself, not only had he caused a genuine smile of joy to rise on Robbie’s lips…..but he’d in fact managed to cause it in the most poetic way possible. Marvin grinned as Robbie looked up to him fully, eyes bright and voice jittery with the force of his happiness.

'Do you really love Robbie? Like really really with honesty?!’

Marvin grinned wider as Iplier chuckled, and Robbie turned to him upon hearing the sound; Iplier smile fondly as he stated.

'Of course we do! You’re too adorable not to love!’

Iplier decided to sneakily flutter his fingers under Robbie’s chin, and felt his heart melt more when the zombie squeaked and let out a few gentle giggles. Also, even though Marvin only observed…..his heart melted too.

'Noho tihihickles doccy!’

Robbie said with a wide smile as he scrunched his shoulders and gently batted at Iplier’s hands, all the while Iplier and Marvin shared a brief glance; it only lasted for a few seconds but it held a very important, and mischievous, conversation. Iplier looked back to Robbie with a sly smile.

'But why not? We wanna hear more of your cute giggles!’

Iplier wiggled his fingers teasingly in the air as Robbie continued to giggle, whilst ever so slowly inching away from where the doctor was sat. Luckily though, Marvin was on hand to hinder any escape attempts; Robbie jumped when Marvin suddenly shuffled behind him.

'You’re not trying to escape are you?’

Marvin whispered as he gently wrapped his arms around Robbie’s torso, which made him squeak rather adorably; Marvin manoeuvred so that he could gently move Robbie so that he lay on the floor with his head in the magician’s lap. All the while, the zombie was looking up at Marvin with wide, nervous eyes as he squeaked.

'R-Robbie is too ticklish! H-he has t-to get away!’

Marvin’s grin morphed into a gentle smirk as he delicately held Robbie’s forearms as he struggled…..but he knew that there was no escape. Iplier smiled widely at the pair of them, but particularly at Robbie whose innocence and undimmed cuteness was still a constant wonder to behold. The doctor raised a teasing eyebrow as he got on his knees, leaning over with an air of intimidation as he went to perch on Robbie’s shins.

'Awww, “too ticklish” are we? Oh you poor thing…..’

Robbie’s smile widened as he shivered, watching Iplier with nervous curiosity….but his squeaky giggles bubbled up again as he felt Marvin raise his arms above his head, and the magician smirked widely as Iplier resumed wiggling his fingers in the air.

'Noho noooo n-not fair fahair on Robbie! Nohot fair!’

Robbie could feel the anticipation building, especially when Marvin’s teasy whispers reached his ears.

'Uh ohhhh, they’re getting closeeer…..they’re coming to get yoooou…..’

Robbie giggled harder as his gaze became fixed on Iplier’s fingers, the owner of which just couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. His hands shot forth to scratch and flutter in Robbie’s hollows, and the reaction was beyond perfect.

'NAHAHAHA IHIT’S SOHO TIHIHIHICKLY!!’

Robbie’s laughter was high-pitched, raspy as well as bubbly as it flowed from him, all the while he started to toss his head; he really hadn’t been kidding about his sensitivity.

'Awwwww what a ticklish little zombie you are!’

Iplier commented, which caused an embarrassed whine to come forth as the zombie hastened to look away from the doctor; he didn’t know how, but the teasing just seemed to make Robbie feel even more ticklish! Marvin meanwhile grinned as he observed, keeping his grasp on Robbie’s arms as he looked down at him.

'It’s “so tickly” is it? Well we never would have figured that out!’

Marvin smirked when Iplier let out a spluttered laugh of his own before rolling his eyes and refocusing. His fingers now trailed, and occasionally prodded, up and down Robbie’s sides which earned them even more brilliant responses. 

'Nahahaha noho pohokihies! Pohohokihies ahare bahahad!!’

Robbie yipped and flinched and jumped at Iplier’s sporadic, unpredictable movements, all the while gentle tinges of lilac appeared on his cheeks. Iplier grinned as he kept up that particular method, glancing at Marvin who smirked and leant down to whisper in Robbie’s ear.

'Awww do da ickle pokies tickle? Are they tickly? Coochie coochie coooo……’

Marvin purposefully cooed in the most childish tone that he could muster, and his efforts were definitely rewarded when the lilac on Robbie’s cheeks got darker and darker with every passing moment. Robbie scrunched his shoulders as he giggled frantically, Marvin’s mere whispers giving him chills and sending tickly shivers through his system.

'Ihihihit tihihihihickles sohohoho bahadly!! Yohohohou’re bohohoth meheheanihihies!!’

Robbie wailed with a small squeal, which only made Marvin and Iplier smirk at each other; god this was way too much fun.

'Oh if you think this is mean, you are in for a biiiiiiig surprise…..’

Iplier chuckled darkly as he sent Robbie a feral grin, all the while his fingertips moved downwards so as to tease Robbie’s delicate waistline and hips; the poor guy was cackling a bucking within milliseconds.

'NAHHHHH! ROHOHOHOBBIHIE DOHOESN’T DEHESEHEHEHERVE MEHEHEAN THIHIHINGS!!’

Robbie wailed as he writhed about, looking up with intense hopefulness at Marvin, who did have to admit that his pleading expression almost swayed him. Almost, that is. Marvin grinned as he locked eyes with Robbie, and as Iplier rubbed and massaged the bowels of Robbie’s hips, the magician spoke teasingly.

'It’s not mean if you’re enjoying every second of it.’

Robbie’s eyes widened as his cheeks darkened to the most stunning violet, all the while he cackled and bucked at Iplier’s torture. Said man’s smirk had widened at Marvin’s words, he looked to the magician with hints of amusement in his eyes.

'Well pointed out Marvin.’

Marvin snickered at Iplier’s tone as Robbie continued to screech and shake beneath them due to the maliciousness that Iplier was still bestowing on his poor hips.

'DOHOHOHON’T POHOHOHOINT OHOHOHOUT!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!!’

The pair of smirking gentlemen looked down upon their victim as they chuckled gently, Iplier deciding to let up on his hips and just administer lazy, absent pokes to Robbie’s thighs. This kept him encased in squeaky giggles as Marvin taunted in his evil baby voice.

'Awwww why not? Does it make da ickle zombie all embawaaassed?' 

Robbie let out a flustered whine as his violet cheeks shone out like beacons of pure, undead mirth.

'Yeheheheheeees! Rohohobbihie cahan’t tahake ahanymohohore!!’

Marvin smiled down at the giggly man, internally rejoicing at how they’d succeeded in getting rid of any kind of moroseness that might have been festering. It was better than any spell Marvin knew, and it was better than any vaccine that Iplier knew of. The doctor grinned as he relented his poking and shuffled off Robbie’s legs, thus allowing the zombie to curl up as he recovered with his hearty blush.

'Hmm…..we’ll have mercy on you for now…..’

Iplier sent him a sly grin which made Robbie shiver and giggle again, which only melted the doctor’s already liquefied heart even more. Iplier watched as Marvin slung an arm round Robbie’s shoulders, smiling at him widely as he half-embraced him.

'Not feelin’ left out anymore zomboy?’

Robbie giggled at the nickname, before looking to the magician with wide and happy eyes as he replied with a bubbly voice.

'Rohobbie is the opposite of left out! He is….’

Robbie furrowed his eyebrows as Marvin and Iplier waited fir his words with a light curiosity; soon he grinned and clapped his hands together.

'Right in!’

As the zombie giggled Marvin and Iplier shared a glance of mutual agreement. This is the cutest person in existence. End of. The doctor raised an eyebrow as he mumbled.

'Well you can’t argue with that.’

Marvin snickered, and was about to say something more until out of the corner of his eye he spotted that Robbie had let out a yawn; his eyes were dropping more than normal, which showed that he was moments away from dropping off into slumber.

Hey Robbie, do you want us to take you to bed?’

Robbie lazily shook his head as he slowly decided to lie back down on the soft, thick warm rug; he mumbled lightly.

'Nuh uh, Robbie dun wanna miss new days…..’

Iplier and Marvin smiled fondly as Iplier swept some of the zombie’s unruly fringe from his face, whilst speaking in a low, melodious tone.

'Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you don’t miss it.’

It seemed that that was all that Robbie needed to hear, because after he smiled and let out a happy hum…..he just went out like a light. Marvin was impressed, and so was Iplier; but there were quite a few hints of envy mixed in.

'God….to be able to drop off like that….’

Iplier muttered, which made Marvin smile and gently mumble in response.

'Oh to be young, and not feel insomnia’s keen sting.’

Iplier withheld a light snigger as Marvin grinned, both of them looking upon Robbie’s slumbering form briefly before Iplier decided to spare a glance to the couch from which he’d shuffled; he grinned with a light sigh when he saw the Host…..sleeping.

'Oh my god…..’

It wasn’t an exclamation, just a phrase of appreciation and happy awe from Iplier, which made Marvin grin and turn to look upon his hero…..who was also in deep slumber.

'Marv did you do some voodoo crap?’

Marvin repressed a stream of giggles as he turned to Iplier with a wide smile, eyes sparkling as they lightly rolled.

'Nohot this time…..’

The both smiled and quietly laughed, whilst also subconsciously agreeing to let the rest of their group reside in the land of nod for the time being neither of them had the heart to even consider trying to rouse them. It was like an unspoken rule. So the magician and the doctor simply whispered together, the medical man raising his curiosity as to what Marvin’s “magical core” was, from a medical perspective; Marvin was elated to explain. And now, I think, we can leave them to it……as we go onwards.

———————————————————————————————————–

We really don’t have far to go, a mere metre in fact only separates the aforementioned scene with the next that’s going to unfold. Now let me tell you…..this is going to be simply divine. Literally. For as we slowly approach, crossing from lilac and violet to a more lime and grassy ground…..here we have two angels. One is in fact more obvious since it features in his name; Angelicsepticeye, or just simply Angel, which is more than befitting. The second, was of equal purity and heavenly status; known as Lightiplier, or Light. This is again immensely appropriate, for when you are in his presence there is always a hint of a glow about the man; an aura of sorts. Light was always known to be wonderfully calm and serene, like an image of still, natural water; but not like that of a statue. He was reserved, but had no difficulty in terms of lack of emotion. He felt many things, primarily his love for Angel took precedence….but this had fractionally been replaced by hints of annoyance; not entirely serious annoyance, but it was still there.

This was as a result of his loving, kind…..playful, boyfriend Angel; who had taken to passing the time by flicking one of his feathers over Light’s nose and other facial features, with a slightly childish cheekiness.

'Is this…..necessary?’

Light queried through partially gritted teeth as the bronze feather flicked under his nose, making him have to repress a sneeze. They both lay on their soft rug, two light salmon cushions behind their heads as their bodies rested rather unceremoniously, with limbs quite haphazard; but they were very comfy. Angel nibbled his lip, his turquoise eyes went to meet with Light’s hazel ones.

'Nooo…..but ihit’s funny seeing you scrunch…..’

Light furrowed his eyebrows with a gentle sigh, Angel’s child-like nature never ceased to bamboozle him at every turn; Light shook his face again, and ended up reflexively screwing his face up.

'Well I can’t help it, as well you know…..’

Angel let out a small giggle at Light’s tone, particularly at the gentle annoyance….which was actually what Angel reeeeally enjoyed coaxing out. Now, don’t go thinking he’d actually plucked himself and caused himself pain in order to acquire his soft tool. The two beings had wings you see, Angel’s were bronze whilst Light’s were more of a white-gold; and on occasion, light moulting could occur. Such of which had happened for Angel on this particular day, so he simply took advantage of what his body provided; and it was very effective.

'Ihit’s still fuhunny, you look lihike you smelt something reheeeeally bahad…..’

Angel giggled again as he flicked the tip of the feather over Light’s cheeks, making him scrunch more as he narrowed his eyes at his giddy partner.

'Oh really? My involuntary expressions amuse you do they?’

Angel still giggled, but felt a chill go down his spine which subsequently made his winged appendages shiver by a fraction; which light noticed as Angel mumbled.

'Y-Yeheah….th-they do.’

Angel could already feel himself shrinking under Light’s gaze, and the former let out a surprised gasp when Light suddenly took his wrist in a gentle, but inescapable, hold. Light plucked the feather from Angel’s fingers and twirled it between his own, a smile growing as he looked back to his cheeky angel.

'Hmmmm….well in that case, I wonder what your expressions will be?’

Angel’s breath caught in his throat at Light’s words, and he found himself frozen in nerves when Light suddenly rolled over so that he lay on top of him……trapping him. Angel let out a little yip when Light suddenly Light brought both his arms above his head, holding his wrists together with one hand; whilst the other was free to manipulate the long, stiff feather in what ever way he saw fit. Light could feel his excitement brimming.

'L-Light, b-baby you don’t have t-to do this…..’

Angel squeaked, tinges of pink already appearing on his cheeks. Light smirked deftly, eyes glinting mischievously as he decided to trail the feather down the sides of Angel’s slender, sensitive neck.

'I know I don’t have to…..but I really, really want to.’

Angel shivered as he let out a high-pitched squeak, cheeks properly blazing as he burst into mouse-like giggles; his head tossed and turned as he protested.

'Ohononono ohoho nohohohoooo…..’

Light let out a gentle chuckle as the feathery fibres teased every inch of skin, going at a slow pace of up and down and up and down….it was evilly methodical.

'Now, now, don’t be too loud…..wouldn’t want to disturb anyone now would we?’

Angel let out a quiet whimper as he nibbled his lip in an attempt to muffle himself, he most certainly didn’t want to be responsible for disturbing the slumbers of a zombie, writer AND superhero; and yet, the adorable sounds found a way to bounce forth from his lips.

'B-Buhut Ihi cahahahan’t hehelp ihihihit!’

Light chuckled at Angel’s whining, and decided to lean do so his lips brushed the shell of his ear; it meant that Angel shivered even before Light’s whispering started.

'That’s not my problem sweetheart…..tickle tickle tickle…..’

He cooed in a breathy whisper before he purred and placed nuzzly kisses at that side of Angel’s neck, whilst the feather kept teasing the other side, as well as Angel’s sensitive ear. Angel meanwhile was in torturous hell as he wriggled and giggled constantly, his eyes wide with his mirth and embarrassment as his face began to screw up.

'Bahahahahaby dohohohohon’t sahahahay ihihihihit!’

Light snickered into Angel’s ear as he kept on with his chaste kisses, all the while he slowly moved the feather from Angel’s neck and let it hover in the air.

'Don’t say what? Tickle? It’s only a word darling, what harm can it do?

Through Angel’s giggling he let out a tiny whimper at Light’s ruthless teasing…..Angel was now really realising that he was in for it. This was proven further when he felt the soft, devious flick of the feather at the centre of his waistline; he yelped and bucked fractionally. The fact that he hadn’t even noticed it move just flustered him more; his focus at the moment was just non-existent.

'Ihihihit’s ahan EHEVIHIL wohohord!’

Angel squealed as he flinched and bucked, the soft feather teasing the taut skin at his waist as Light continued his sloppy onslaught at his neck; the gentle teases were almost worse than hysteria could ever be. Light chuckled at Angel’s words as he hummed.

'Well I think it’s a lovely word…..tickle…..it just rolls off the tongue.’

Light flicked his tongue over the shell of Angel’s ear, making his squeak as his cheeks became fully and irreversible crimson.

'Nahahahahaha sh-shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup!!’

Light paused, internally elated at how Angel’s words opened up so many delectable opportunities as he decided to rear up and fix the man beneath him with a hard gaze; he spoke in a low growl.

'You really love to cross the line……don’t you?’

Angel gasped as he giggled residually, little whimpers escaping him as he struggled to find his voice.

'I-Ihi…….n-noho I-I…..’

Angel trailed off as Light raised a sceptical eyebrow, before smirking and deciding to place a chaste kiss on his lips; he couldn’t help it, the temptation was too alluring. Angel was taken by surprise and thus put into even more of a daze as Light withdrew, looking down into Angel’s eyes.

'Naughty little teasers like you…..ought to be severely punished.’

Angel couldn’t deny how intimidated he felt, as well as how strongly the giddy excitement had built up within him. His mouth was slightly agape amidst his speechlessness, which Light chuckled at as he manoeuvred so he used both his hands to pin Angel’s arms tight above his head; but there was still an element of comfort. Light shuffled more so he could get comfortable on Angel’s thighs as said man’s gaze flicked between him, and the feather he’d just discarded. Angel’s curiosity reawakened his vocal chords.

'Uh…..what a-are you gonna d-do?’

Light smiled fondly at Angel’s stammers as he finally settled, before allowing a broad smirk to rise as his downy wings bristled and came to the forefront…..Angel’s eyes widened. Oh no. Not this.

'I……am going to tickle you in the way that I know, will completely destroy you. And keep you in the intense, flustered mirthful state that you deserve.' 

Angel visibly shuddered as he yipped, eyes fixed upon the soft plumes of feathers that were approaching him at a teasingly slow pace. But eventually they began to sneak under his shirt, brushing his waist, belly and navel with evil delicacy.

'Ohohononohoho n-nahat thihis ahanything buhut thihihis!!’

Angel struggled to try and move is arms, but Light had him perfectly restrained; so Angel had no choice but to endure what was coming for him…..which honestly, was how he liked it.

'Sorry to break it to you…..but this is what you’re getting. And you’re going to love every, single, second of it.’

Light’s words melted in his ears as the wingtips snuck up further. They swept and dragged up his sides and fluttered and stroked at his ribcage, making Angel let out a few brief cackles.

'NAHAHA IHI’LL DOHO AHANYTHIHING!! AHANYTHING!!’

Light chuckled at his boyfriend’s pleas as his devious tools finally came to their destination, aka. Angel’s extremely sensitive, and vulnerable underarms; which, just so happened to be very susceptible to gentle sensations. Angel let out a loud squeal as Light cocked his head and cooed.

'Oh you divine little thing…..it’s too late now.’

The feathers were so soft and precise as they slowly dragged up and down inside Angels hollows, teasing the exposed areas relentless as Angel succumbed…..and was broken. Now, when I say “broken” I don’t mean hysterical, or begging with tears in his eyes and lungs fighting for their sanity; I mean that his composure, his mentality of defiance and coherency…..was destroyed.

'N-nohohoho b-bahaby…..n-nahahat th-theheheeere….’

Angel was shivering with his head thrown back, his mouth stretched into a wide smile as he giggled, whined and mewled at the sensations; essentially, he was becoming mush.

'Ohhh yes here….I know how much you just adore being tickled here. I know how much you just crave to let go and surrender to the tickly, and teasy bliss that I give you.’

Light spoke in a dimmed voice, a low tone that was meant for Angel’s ears only as he watched said man with love and fond awe. The way Angel’s body just shivered with innocent, joyful delight as it was teased….it was a wonder to behold, an experience one might say. Light’s expression was soft as he let his wings do the work, all the while he simply observed, amused at how Angel could barely look at him for even a second.

’D-dohohohon’t s-sahay th-thohohose thihihihings…..’

Angel whispered bashfully as his cheeks burned like crimson fire, his mind whirring and processing Light’s words as they seemed to contribute to his utterly ravished state. Light knew this of course, and his smile widened as he leant to whisper in Angel’s ear.

'Why? Does saying out loud make it worse? Does it make it feel more real?’

Angel gulped as a chill went down his spine, but it was quickly replaced by warmth as fond, affectionate kisses took the place of Angel’s whispers. His lips were soft and delicate, and worked in sync with the movement of the feathers; with each long drag came a lengthy kiss. Angel was just in utter bliss, he didn’t even think as he replied.

'Yehehehes…..ihit m-mahakes ihit wohohorse b-buhut I l-lohove ihihit…..’

Light felt his heart beat faster, very nearly out of his chest at Angels’ words; he couldn’t articulate how happy it made him feel when he got confirmation that he’d made Angel happy. The concept of bringing someone else real joy and satisfaction really made Light feel….indescribably amazing.

'It makes me feel so happy when….you say that you love it. Because I love you, so so much….’

At Light’s meaningful words, Angel blinked a few times; despite his immeasurably ravished state, when he heard those words come from Light’s lips he could never have failed to respond.

'Ihi lohohove yohou toho…..’

Light let out a little giggle as Angel’s eyes flicked up to his, with intense bashfulness encasing them; they held each others’ gaze for a moment before neither could hold back the urge to kiss. Light and Angel loved to kiss, they loved how the act was so intimate and unique, and yet so innocent; it could hold so much. Like now, it held their giddiness and adoration for one another; Angel giggled into Light’s lips as said man’s wings withdrew from his underarms, tracing down the rest of his torso before they moved back completely.

’…..th-thahank you….’

Light grinned widely at Angel’s mumbling and pecked his forehead lovingly. He still held his wrists however, so he decided to slowly bring them down so that he could place chaste kisses on the pale knuckles of his angel. Before long, Angel had shuffled to nestle into Light’s chest as Light draped an arm over his waist, and covered him protectively with one of his wings. They were encompassed, and together in peace and love. You really could say that they were a picture of divinity, and what everyone should aspire to be. No matter who you are, what you may, or may not, believe in…..peace and love are the ultimatums of our world; so lets achieve it. I think we will tonight, eventually; come, let us amble on.

———————————————————————————————————–

That really was quite profound, and beautiful to behold….so this will perhaps be a slight transition; I’ll take you in slowly. We’re moving from the “main” living area to the aptly named “middle” living area. There’s no furniture as such, but it’s a nice open spot for when people might want to amalgamate; which was why it had been strategically chosen for the most important part of the evening. The New Year Countdown. Mounted on the wall was a HUGE HD television, with many wires extending from it that were all most likely extremely complex and important in some way; however, there were also some decorative lights surrounding it which twinkled and really complimented it. Those were courtesy of Oliver, who was incredibly proud of his contribution as he watched his three brothers tinker and fiddle with the set-up. Alongside him was Crank, who was also being extremely helpful by making comments on symmetry and aesthetic, which the other three Googles really appreciated.

'Perhaps if you actually assisted personally, the task would be completed to the appropriate level of satisfaction?’

Google Red commented with a fractionally raised eyebrow, looking between the two bystanders who both only shrugged with gentle grins. Oliver giggled a little.

'But you’re waaaaay better at actually setting stuff up and organising things! It’s literally your thing!’

Googles Green and Blue, or as they were known by Oli and Crank, Greeny and Bluey, rolled their eyes as Red’s (or Strawby’s) bashfulness crept up at Oli’s words; compliments were the one thing that even threw him off his stride.

'Th-that is n-not the p-point…..’

Crank and Oliver shared a giggly glance at Red’s hitched voice, and Green let out a gentle sigh; honestly, the utter childishness of the two of them seriously astounded him at times.

'You both still have a responsibility here, you need to contribute in some way.’

Crank let out a light gasp, which spurred Oliver to giggle and bring his hands up to cover his mouth, all the while Green just folded his arms and amusedly observed Crank’s affronted response.

'We HAVE contributed! Oliver has literally formulated and executed the prime aesthetic factors associated with the task….’

Green couldn’t help but grin lightly at the boy’s bubbly insistence, and he flicked his eyes to Blue who snickered and decided to observe the interaction.

’…..and I’ve been giving relevant direction, without having sat down for aaaaages!’

Crank finished resolutely, and Oliver tried to set his own expression to a similarly serious one…..but his giggles only hindered that particular objective. Green shook his head at Crank with a light laugh before his eyes flicked to Oliver in his giggly state; he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t NOT focus on the adorable sight. Blue meanwhile, focused on Crank, stepping forward and standing in front of him with an expression of fake sympathy.

'Oh poor you, you must be so exhausted…..from your lack of effort.’

Crank couldn’t help but grin widely as Blue’s eyes shone with his sarcasm and deviance; Blue was so glad that he had this fifth brother, especially given how much emotion he had bursting at the seams.

'You know what? I am actually, I think I’ll just take a seat down here….’

Without further ado Crank just decided to plop onto the floor, or rather the beautifully haphazard rug that covered the majority of the area. Hints of ocean, forest, sun and morning sky came together with a slightly…..rusty, aged hue overlaying it; binding it together. Crank wriggled to get comfy as Blue looked down at him, meanwhile Red and Green had also abandoned their tasks in order to convince their sunshine brother to also contribute to the challenge at hand; but at Crank’s actions, he couldn’t help but copy him with a boyish grin and a light giggle. The three Googles standing glanced at one another, and their respective irises began to shine as their lips twitched; and they came to a respective decision. Blue smiled deftly, tilting his head down at Crank as he spoke.

'You will contribute.’

Crank giggled gently, folding his arms with a defiant smirk as Oliver did the same in response to his two other brothers. Crank voiced them both.

'What if we refuse?’

Honestly, Crank was surprised at his own words, especially given how his confidence and defiance were diminishing with every passing second that Blue looked at him. The droid’s eyes seemed to shine brighter by his words, as if they’d motivated him in some way. Oliver had been observing his other two brothers, whose eyes had done the same……which sent a chill down his spine. Oliver knew what this meant. When any of the Googles’ eyes shone collectively, it meant that they were silently communicating with one another. Oliver fidgeted impatiently as Crank observed with nervous anticipation. After a few more moments, their eyes returned to their normal shines and hues; Blue turned to Green and Red with a small grin before he went back to looking down at Crank.

'Then…..we shall simply force you to.’

'NOHO! WAIT WAIT DON’T DO THIHIHIS!’

Crank jumped and paled at the sound of Oli’s desperate voice, and the sight he saw made him gulp and shiver. Red and Green had pounced on him. Green had perched on Oliver’s thighs and had his fingers rigorously scratching in his hollows, all the while Red had his arms pinned above his head; he had no way to escape. Blue smirked at Crank’s wide-eyed distractedness and used it to his advantage, this meant he as able to tackle the boy down onto the rug and start rapidly squeezing his sides and abdomen.

'NAHA! Bluhuehey nohoho noho tihihicklihihing!’

Crank exclaimed with a loud squeal, immediately descending into wild giggles as he thrashed at Blue’s touch; Blue had copied Green’s position, it was an excellent vantage point for ease of accessibility. The two in fact glanced at each other, grinning deviously before returning to their respective victims.

'But tickling is such and excellent method of persuasion, particularly for people like you and Oliver who are perfectly susceptible to it….’

Blue trailed off with a small chuckle as Crank’s hands frantically batted at his; which had decided to switch from squeezes to scratches at Crank’s sides; it transpired that they were a far more effective technique for that area.

'NAHAHAHA C'MOHONHON!! THIHIS IHIS MEHEHEHEAN!!’

Crank wailed, his cheeks were already a wonderful navy hue amidst his scrunched face; his head meanwhile, tossed about rapidly in his mirth. Blue chuckled as his hands delved under Crank’s black hoodie and t-shirt, thus making him shriek and hit out more whilst Blue got accessed his bare skin; his scratches and pinches roamed up and down Crank’s sides and ribs as he spoke nonchalantly.

'I must disagree, I think this is most adequate and appropriate for your transgression-’

'STAHAP WIHITH THE FAHANCY PAHANTS WOHOHOHORDS!!’

Google Blue snickered as Crank wriggled and shoved at his hands fruitlessly, and he rolled his eyes whilst reiterating his phrasing.

'Essentially, it’s not mean because you deserve it for being so lazy and cheeky’ which brings me to my next point actually…..’

Crank screeched and cackled as Blue’s fingers rubbed his ribcage in slow, teasing circles as the droid himself maintained a cool, calm exterior; even though internally he was elated at the whole scenario….as were his brothers. Well, two of them at least.

'Awwww coochie coo Oli!’

'Who’s got a ticklish tummy? Oh wait…..it’s you!’

Green and Red giggled and snickered to themselves as they teased their younger brother with perfectly calculated, devious synchronicity; being at the mercies of BOTH of them was really taking its toll on poor Oliver.

'YOHOHOU MEHEHANIHIES! DOHOHON’T TEHEASE IHIT’S NAHAHAT FAHAHAIR!’

Oliver squirmed and squealed, tugging at his arms in vain as Red smirked down at him, keeping his hold firm. Green meanwhile chuckled as his fingertips rapidly scratched at Oliver’s bare and quivering tummy which, as you can probably tell, was extremely ticklish. At Oliver’s words, Red narrowed his eyes at him and spoke in a slight growl.

'Well that was rude, I think it’s about time our little brother learnt some manners.’

Red sent Green a devious smirk, which the latter copied as his fingers splayed, curling and uncurling over Oliver’s sides and ribs whilst he muttered.

'I couldn’t agree more…..’

Oliver’s eyes widened as he let out a little whimper amidst his frantic and breathless giggles, his torso jerking from side to side all the while.

'N-nohohoho Greheheeny! S-Strahahawby Ihi’m sahaharry!! Dohohon’t tihickle mehe mohohore!!’

Oliver whined nervously through his giggling, flicking his eyes between his brothers hopefully as they both hummed…..but then they shared another glance where their irises shone. So…..after a few anticipatory seconds, their smirks returned and Oliver gulped when they looked down at him.

'Now…..is it just me, or did he just say “tickle me more”?’

Red spoke slowly and gently, his smile was a small, one as he looked across to his equally devious brother. Green’s emerald irises glinted as they flicked down to fix upon Oliver, who was beginning to frantically shake his head; Green grinned.

'That’s exactly what I heard!’

Olive was already giggling as he tugged at his arms and spoke in a pleading, high-pitched tone.

'Nonononohoho Ihi didn’t mehean it lihike that, you knohow I didn’t!!’

Oliver’s cheeks bore a lemon flush from his mirth and his utter embarrassment, all the while Green looked back to Red with an expression of innocent thoughtfulness.

'Honestly…..I think it’s our duty, as brothers, to make sure our little Oliver is happy.’

Green’s grin was widening, and Red’s lips too stretched as he listened to his sibling’s words with interest, as well as joy due to the mischief that they held; Red decided to dim his own voice, joining i teasingly.

'And having been provided with a method that he so clearly desires, it would be…..cruel of us to not utilise this information…..’

'Strawby plehease! D-dohon’t d-do this t-to me guys!’

Oliver’s words came out amidst squeaks and whimpers as he realised the state of his predicament, whilst Green smiled and both his siblings. Siblings…..he loved that words. Green’s mainframe refocused on the task at hand however, and he smirked as he nodded to Red who then shifted so that Oliver’s arms were pinned under his knees; and now, he had two hands free. Those hands appeared in Oli’s eye-line for a moment, before they disappeared and began their descent. Oliver’s smile seemed to glow as he squirmed, his breath leaving him in titters as he tensed…..he had no idea where he was going to be attacked next. Which was, in his opinion, rather cruel indeed. Green observed Oliver, his gaze raking over his shivery anticipation, his flushed cheeks, and his overall demeanour of joy……Green only had one thought in that moment. Thank, whoever is applicable, for the existence of emotions.

'Gotcha!’

Green was brought out of his thoughts by Red’s exclamation and Oliver’s following squeal.

'Nahahaha gehet awahahay frohom thehehere!!’

Oliver wailed as he tossed and turned his head, because Red’s fingertips had started to haphazardly flick and flutter at his neck and ears; thus causing some rather wondrous reactions. Green grinned as he leant forward teasingly.

'Having fuuuun? This is too adorable, especially since this is meant to be a punishment for your childish laziness…..’

Green snickered as Oliver screwed his face up through his giggles and light groupings of snorts, who would have known that such gentle touches could cause such amazing responses? Well, it seemed that Google Blue was aware of this fact. He was in fact working rather in sync with his brothers, as in he had also decided upon a gentle and teasing approach for his victim. Crank was encased in embarrassed giggles as he flinched and yipped, since Blue’s nimble fingertips occupied themselves by tracing round his hips and over his waistline; the taunting delicacy had awakened Crank’s nervous system, which meant that it was rather agonising for him.

'Bluhuhuehehey…….th-thihis ihis ehehevihihiiil!’

Crank’s smile was wide and his eyes were screwed shut as he squeaked and bucked, his giggles plagued with random yelps as Blue worked methodically and without mercy. Said Google had a sly smile on his lips as he observed every reaction, documenting and cataloging as much as possible; for future reference, of course.

'Oh I think we both know that this is perfectly justified, particularly due to your……incessently cheeky defiance.’

Blue’s tone was light and taunty and it only made Crank grin wider, because let it be known; Crank is a cheeky little shit, simple. He decided to open his eyes fractionally, which he immediatly regretted when he saw Blue’s expression of devious satisfaction.

'Buhuhut thahat’s who Ihi ahahaham!’

Crank retorted, but then swiftly squealed when Blue’s fingertips swept over his waist; he probed and scratched over the sensitive skin which made Crank emit a whiny wail. Google raised an amused eyebrow.

'Oh I’m aware of that, but that doesn’t mean you’re exempt from giving an apology……speaking of which…..’

Crank giggled and sniggered heartily, he knew Google was going to get to the point sooner or later; Blue fixed him with an expectant stare as he halted his torment for a moment.

’……I haven’t yet heard and apology from you. Would you care to rectify that?’

Even though the teasy tickling had halted, Crank was still encased in bubbly giggles…..because he knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. He took a few light breaths as he gently tried to tug at his arms, which Google had pinned under his knees; he’d found Crank’s physical resistance to be somewhat of a hinderance. Google stared patiently, looking at Crank as he seemed to think……but then he smiled. It was small, and childish, and was accompanied back a small shake of his head.

’……..n-nohope…….’

Blue blinked a few times, tilting his head as Crank with a curious smile as he observed him in his jittery state.

'Nope? So you mean to tell me…….that you DON’T intend to apologise?’

Crank felt himself gulp and shrink under Google’s amused stare as he knawed at his lip, all the while Google moved his hands from his torso and held them behind him. For the moment at least. After a few seconds, Crank whispered in a high-pitched voice.

’…..th-that’s r-right…..’

Crank cursed his frailty as Google let out a small hum, before he grinned and put his plan into action. His fingertips fell and hovered gently atop Crank’s thighs, which made Crank’s eyes widen as his whole body tensed.

'Are you……quite sure, that you want to stay with that decision?’

Blue’s fingertips had begun to lightly tap, trail, and seemingly walk themselves further down Crank’s legs; inching closer to where his knees were situated. They were half-bent,a sign of Crank’s nerves.

’……mhm….p-pretty suhure…..’

Crank knew what was coming, he knew how diabolical it was going to be…..but he didn’t care; he would be defiant till the last. With no exception. Google Blue smirked a little, not only from his amusement but also because of how he was constantly surprised by Crank. He knew he was going to lose, and yet he was going to face his consequences despite having the option to avoid them; it confused Google to no end……which he loved.

'Reeeeally?’

Google spoke with a light coo to his voice, making Crank yip and turn his head away as he carried on giggling in anticipation…..which also meant that he couldn’t bring himself to reply. Google snickered, knowing that Crank’s silence wouldn’t last.

'Well then….. you leave me no choice. Good luck.’

He was so deft and merciless, and Crank’s eyes bugged out of their sockets as he tried to comprehend the rapid scratching and scribbling at the backs of his knees. Google smirked as Crank’s frantic shrieks filled his ears.

'NAHAHAHAHAHA FAHAHACK!!! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!!!’

Crank was bucking and thrashing and tugging at his limbs as his lungs worked to give him air, it was like being electrocuted; he’d never felt a sensation like it before. Google kept up his method as he peered down at Crank, eyes gleaming with the satisfaction and knowledge of his impending victory.

'But I think this is the ideal place for me to work. I know it’s going to get me exactly what I want.’

As Google’s triumphant words filled his ears, Crank continued to wail as he squeezed his eyes shut; he couldn’t bare to look at that embodiment of smugness any longer. However, others had decided to observe.

'O-oho gohod…..’

Oliver was one of them, even amidst his own gentle torture his found himself transfixed by Crank’s hysteria; just seeing him be reduced to that sort of a mess sent a shudder through his system. A shudder, that his two similarly observing siblings, had picked up on. Red and Green shared a glance, and they didn’t even need to use their private connection to communicate; Red spoke first, looking down at Oliver with rapt excitement.

'Y'know, I think that it’s about time that you apologised. It’s clear that your little comrade is close to breaking……so you might as well give up now.’

From his position on Oli’s legs, Green grinned at Red’s amazing tease as Oliver gulped and looked away from them; his hard-drive was focused on Crank’s screeching laughter. Due to how his focus had diverted from his brothers, this then spurred them to use the opportunity of Oliver’s distractedness. Green leaned over Oli carefully, making his voice clear.

'And now you ignore us…..you deserve to have this apology forced from you.’

Oliver blinked a few times as he picked up on his brother’s abruptness, and looked to him hurriedly; but he didn’t get a chance to look for long, because Green had begun to shuffle away. In seconds he was sat on Oliver’s ankles, facing his bare feet; Oliver felt a lot more motivated to speak all of a sudden.

'W-wahait I-I didn’t m-mehean to! I-I’m sorry!’

Oliver let out a small whimper as his gaze flicked to Red, whose demeanour did hold hints of sympathy; but it became wholly mischief as he spoke, whilst Green smirked and positioned his fingertips.

'Mmm, I don’t think you’re sorry yet…..but you will be.’

At Red’s words, Green suddenly became relentless. His blunt nails were perfect for scraping up and down Oliver’s taut soles and arches, as well as scratches at the heels and balls of his sensitive feet. Oliver hadn’t bothered trying to hold back his high-pitched scream as he, like Crank, descended into mirthful hysteria.

'AHAHAHAHAAHHH!!! NAHAHAHAT MY FEHEHEHEET!!!’

Oliver was already gasping as his wide smile threatened to burst his cheeks and dimples, his back arching in response to the sensations as he tugged at his limbs with all his might; but he didn’t get the result he desired. Red and Green were perfectly content with their findings though.

'Awwww coochie coochie coo! Look at these ticklish tootsies!’

'God it must tickle so bad……but is it enough to make you apologise properly?’

Their teases just seemed to support and bounce off one another, and Oliver’s cheeks seemed to darken even more as he wailed.

'NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE!!!’

His wailing didn’t stop Green however as his movenents shifted so he was fluttering and flicking at Oli’s toes, which elicited some marvellous yelps through his laughter. Red still had his arms pinned, but he’d moved them from under his knees so he could hold them carefully; so there was a constant reassurance of safety in place. I have to say that at this point, there had never been a more utterly vibrant scene. An array of colourful people, drawing out an array of vibrant reactions; all amidst an array of encapsulating, charming decoration and atmosphere. It’s quite the marvel, I think you’ll agree. It was at this point too, that they all seemed to draw together; the three “tormenting” brothers grinning deftly at one another. They were connected in their deviousness and their determination to extract what they wanted. Then, there were the two brothers who were twins in their unbridled mirth, interlinked with empathy and dwindling resolve. The first to cry out was Oliver though, he just couldn’t take anymore.

'OHOHOHOHOKAHAHAHAY!!! PLEHEHEHEHEHE!!! SAHAHAHAHARRY!!!’

His new incoherency was enough of an indicator, thus spurring Green’s fingers to halt and withdraw as Red too allowed for mercy. Oliver’s limbs were free as he hastened to encase himself amidst breathy, residual giggling; all the while he looked upon Crank, who too was about to give into the inevitable.

'Can I expect a coherent apology if I grant you mercy?’

Google Blue commented with a smile as he pinched and probed at Crank’s kneecaps, all the while their owner writhed with tears on his cheeks; thankfully, he managed to muster the energy to nod.

'YEHEHEHEHEHEHE PLEHEHEHEHEHE!!!’

Blue hummed, his smile becoming more smug as his fingertips softened and gradually rose away from their battlefield as Crank gasped and gulped; Blue shuffled off him, thus meaning that he too was free. Both his legs seemed to tingle as his breathing returned to normal, and his rusty, oceanic orbs flicked to Blue’s, shining, sapphire ones. The latter’s smile dimmed to a more delicate one.

'Are you……recovered?’

Crank let out a huffed laugh through his nose as he sat up and nodded, all the while Oliver was doing the same. Red and Green had embraced him, without failing to include a playful ruffle of his hair before pulling him to his feet with wide grins. Crank smiled at the scene, and so jumped when a hand suddenly came into his eye-line; Blue’s hand. It was accompanied with a grin and a small eye sparkle, and Crank felt himself match that grin as he accepted the assistance.

'Good, I need you on cable disentanglement; you too Oliver.’

Crank turned to the sunshine eyed droid, who let out a light giggle as he was given two pats on the back and a small shove before Green and Red went back to their own tasks. Oliver shuffled next to Crank before looking to Blue and giving him a mock salute.

'On it!’

Blue sighed, rolling his eyes as he decided to briefly observe them; they both slowly sank to the floor where they began fiddling with bundles of cables, conversation immediately flying between them. Google didn’t know what they discussed, but when words left Oli’s mouth they seemed to make his eyes light up, and when Crank replied his voice seemed to buzz with happy enthusiasm. That’s what you hope for, I think. The concept of siblings is a mystery to me, but I think I understand the basis. The relationship between siblings is more than family. It is trust, and avid joy, and playfulness and respect all rolled into one. You know each other, because it’s like you’ll all part of the same puzzle, and when you’re all together you are just…..a masterpiece.

———————————————————————————————————-

God isn’t it amazing to just have fun and play around? I think you can agree with me, given what we just witnessed; so lets move on to some more of that particular joy. I guess, this is somewhat of a “side” living area? I don’t know about you, but there’s something about it that just gives it an aura of seclusion. Perhaps it’s the yonder fireplace, they always bring so much to a room don’t they? Anyway, we’ll get to that soon. For now, I spy another piece of furniture, except this couch is a rather sultry, olive green with mintish hued cushions; it’s not an especially catching colour scheme, but it doesn’t need to be. It adds a sense of calm, especially due to its inhabitants being rather bold in character; namely, Chase Brody and Dr Henrik Von Schneeplestein. The prince of deft trick-shots and the patron of the emergency room; quite the match in fact, since here they are romantic in relations.

Relating back to fun, these two were certainly engaging in some in the form of charades; aka when one person uses actions to act out a chosen word or phrase, and the other or others have to guess what it is. Despite its perceived generic nature, it can really be quite hilarious.

'OH! Is it a space vormhole?’

Schneeple exclaimed as he clapped his hands, eyes bright with the hope of being correct…..but alas not as Chase shook his head. Chase was ready to admit that he was at his wit’s end, because of the fact that Schneeple was the WORST guesser in the history of charades. Chase sighed, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he sighed.

'Okay…..lets try this again.’

Chase took a deep breath, then repeated his miming. He mimicked a cube-like object, after which he motioned opening a door, putting something in, closing it, pushing buttons, and then some kind of circling or rotating motion occurring. In case you didn’t pick it up from that, the object here is a washing machine. Chase didn’t know how much more he could simplify it because there was LITERALLY nothing else it could be; so how his dear, sweet Henrik had managed to get “wormhole”, “spinning plates” and “record player” Chase would never know. Now, participating is certainly fun, but watching was just as good too; which was what a certain gentleman was doing, sat cross-legged on the yellow, green and orange rug. His name was Dapper, and let me tell you, he was most certainly very dapper. With a jet black twirlable moustache, a topping bowler hat, and gentlemanly attire from the 1920’s he was the epitome of spiffing smartness.

Another quirk of this man was that he was mute, but he still made other noises like hums of content or hiccups of joy; it was just words that eluded him. However, he was in fact one of the loveliest people spend time with, since his flashcards and sign language made communication as easy and regular vocalisation. For now though, he just smiled and hugged his knees as he watched the doctor’s thoughtful expression.

'Hmmmm……hypnotism?’

Chase let out a loud groan as he grasped the peak of his cap in frustration, whilst Schneeple humphed with a pout as he raised his arms in exasperation.

'Vell vhat is it? Put me out of my misery!’

Chase shook his head in defeat as he spoke in a tone of overly dejected despair.

'Babe…..it was a washing machine.’

The utter exhausted, desperation that flickered in Chase’s voice made Dapper grin and let out a quiet giggle as Schneeple furrowed his eyebrows; he was clearly dissatisfied.

'How vos zat a vashing machine?! Your arms vere making vortexes!’

Schneeple exclaimed as he proceeded to wave his arms about in a mock impression of Chase, to which said man reacted with light indignance as he folded his arms across his chest.

'My miming was perfect and you know it! You’re just salty cuz you’re shit at guessing.’

Schneeple’s mouth dropped open, making Dapper giggle again as Chase grinned widely; teasing Henrik was so much damn fun.

'How dare you! I am not ze shit von here!’

Schneeple’s shoulders moved as he spoke, almost seeming to shimmy with the force of his sass and insistence as he also folded his arms; his lips were pursed, not from annoyance, but from his strong attempt not to smile and burst out laughing. Chase meanwhile, didn’t bother to hide his mirth as he snickered and stuck his tongue out.

'Oh c'mon just admit your crappiness! It’s not like you can hide it since it’s constantly plain to see…..’

Chase sniggered as Schneeple’s mouth opened wider at his rude cheekiness, and he was clearly about to give Chase a piece of his mind…..before a little, giggly cough caught their attention. Dapper had tried to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop the noise escaping, but alas he was too late…..Now he was forced with the couple’s full attention, particularly Schneeple’s as he was the first to speak.

'Vell it seems zat somevone has ze giggles! Did ve miss something amusing?’

Dapper felt himself grinning and letting out more little giggles as he flicked his eyes between Schneeple and Chase, both of whom looked to him expectantly. Schneeple’s eyebrows were raised and Chase’s lips bore a curious grin as Dapper slowly moved his hands from his face, quickly using them to sign.

“Chase is right, your guessing is really bad.”

As they both interpreted him, Schneeple ended up pursing his lips tighter with narrowing, steely eyes as Chase let out a spluttery guffaw. Dapper looked between them, and Chase soon recovered…..but he let out a gently exaggerated gasp before he spoke. 

'Well now that’s kinda mean!’

'I find myself agreeing vith you….’

Schneeple’s words were consecutive after Chase’s, and Dapper found himself being bamboozled, in particular by Chase. He cocked his head and wiggled his moustache in thought before hurriedly signing again.

“But I’m only agreeing with Chase, he said it first not me!”

Chase and the good doctor shared a glance as they interpreted the confused, and now slightly nervous, man; they both nodded to each other before they turned back to Dapper, and Chase spoke first with a sly smile.

'Ah, but I’m an exception! I’m allowed to say those things; but if someone else says those things then it’s just……so rude!’

Dapper fidgeted a little, nibbling his lip as he listened intently…..but he found himself picking up on the playfulness that laced Chase’s voice. He didn’t have time to analyse further however, since Schneeple’s voice made him jump and snap his attention to him.

'So rude indeed…..’

Schneeple trailed off, and felt a threatening smile make his lips twitch as he slowly leant forward on the couch; he bore a rather determined expression. Dapper knew it was playful, but both men’s movements and tones of voice sent  a light chill down his spine as his own smile was maintained; his fingers were a flurry in the air.

“I didn’t mean to be rude! I swear it I swear it!”

Dapper’s eyes were wide as Schneeple leant even further forward, and he gulped when Schneeple seemed to analyse him……before a playful glare took centre stage on his features.

'Hm……I’m not sure if I believe you…..’

Dapper fidgeted as the doctor rose from his seat and towered over him, pausing momentarily as he folded his arms.

'If I recall, you seemed razer enthusiasteec, and happy, vhilst you vere insulting me.’

Schneeple’s sky blue irises darted over the nervous man as his lips seemed to twist and quirk……alright, perhaps Dapper had quite enjoyed teasing Schneeple. A little bit. Said man bore a sneaky smile as his partner let out a curious hum as he stood, and inched next to Dapper as he looked down at him. Glee was dancing in Chase’s eyes, and he knew that it was slightly mean of him and Schneeple to do this; to tease Dapper like this. Then again, Chase decided that technically Dapper had brought it on himself…..that was a good enough excuse right?

'Yeah I noticed that…..makes ya feel good to be cheeky does it?’

Schneeple grinned at Chase’s words as Dapper hurriedly shook his head, his hands practically waving themselves about in their frantic energy; but even through his nerves, there was a small smile on Dapper’s lips. His signing was still as insistent as ever though.

“No no no! I wasn’t being cheeky I wasn’t!”

Dapper gulped and inched back when Schneeple suddenly dropped down onto his knees, they were at the same level now; Dapper could see his eyes twinkling with mischievous intent.

'Oh is zat so? If zat is truly ze case…..zen vhat is vith zis little smile? Hm?’

Schneeple tapped his fore-finger to Dapper’s cheek, or rather his dimple which had surfaced from his nervous smile; said smile widened as Dapper tried to look to the side so he could hide it, but he only ended up being faced with Chase who had also dropped to his level. His demeanour was equally as devious as he commented.

'I gotta agree, if that ain’t a cheeky smile then I don’t know what is!’

Dapper hurried to look down into his lap, to avoid their teasing gazes as a light, rosy flush appeared on his cheeks; just from the sheer, giddy embarrassment that he felt. As this occurred, his hands stayed still since they were too busy fidgeting with one another; Chase and Schneeple grinned at one another before Schneeple decided to aim a light poke to Dapper’s ribcage.

'Excuse me, ve expect you attention! Particularly vhen ve are trying to teach you some manners!’

At the brief poke, Dapper’s entire form seemed to indeed, snap to attention as his posture straightened and a little yip left his lips. Oh no. They wouldn’t…..would they? Dapper looked to the couple, whose eyes were shining with collective glee; Chase spoke up.

'Ooooh! It looks like that got his attention, if we wanna keep it then we shouldn’t let up!’

Chase snickered when Dapper started to shake his head, his smile morphing into an anticipatory grin; Schneeple let out an exaggerated gasp, and he could feel his fingers twitching in excitement.

'Vhat an excellent idea darling!’

Chase grinned with a happy gasp, deciding to worm his wiggling fingers into Dapper’s other side, all the while he looked to Schneeple with fond adoration.

'Awwww, thanks hun!’

As Schneeple and Chase exchanged their gentle flirtations, poor Dapper was just giggling frantically as he tried to bat at them and shuffle away on his tush; but his two captors quickly refocused themselves.

'Ah ah ah! Ve didn’t say you could leave mister cheeky chappy!’

Schneeple reprimanded with a light smirk as Chase hastened to grab Dapper’s shins so he could lightly, and playfully, drag him back between them. Dapper squeaked with wide eyes as he wriggled, but the poor guy had been taken off guard; instead of being sat up, he was now lying on the vibrant rug. If only he’d had some better balance. He looked between the pair of them nervously as the rosy dusting on his cheeks darkened…..particularly as a result of the doctor’s nickname for him; it had given him quite a few butterflies. Those were soon accompanied by shocks and tickly waves as Chase used both hands to work on one side of his torso.

'Tickle tickle tickle! Awwww, is Dappy a bit ticklish?’

The baby talk made Dapper let out a little wail as he tried to bat at Chase’s hands, which were kneading into his fleshy sides and protruding ribs; his squeaks and cackles were wonderfully sporadic, much like his defensive movements. Chase grinned down at the man, and couldn’t help but 'aww’ internally; he was so cute. His significant other was doing the same, and Schneeple’s and Chase’s gazes met through their shared adoration. Schneeple smiled before he hummed and lifted his hands into the air. 

'Hm, you still have not even tried to give me ze apology zat I deserve……so I think some more tickles are in order!’

Dapper gasped as he shook his head wildly, the sensations at ONE side of his body were already evilly torturous…..he could barely imagine what it would be like to feel even more tickling on top of that. Unluckily for him, he wouldn’t have to imagine for much longer.

'What an awesome diagnosis!’

Chase exclaimed, which made Schneeple chuckle as his raised fingers wriggled in the air…..before going to descend upon their targets. Yes targets…..plural. Poor Dapper. Not only did he have Chase’s nimble fingertips methodically scratching at his ribcage, making him cackle and squirm; now he had fingers fluttering under his chin and at his neck whilst a hand poked and pinched one of his thighs.

'Oh my love, zese compliments vill be ze death of me!’

Okay. Teasing had been diabolically bad, but pure nonchalance was just evil. Dapper was squealing and snorting as he was attacked from all sides. His shoulders were scrunched, his arms flailed, his legs kicked and his torso writhed; an unsympathetic person would call it the perfect workout regime. Chase glanced at the red faced man just long enough for him to relent on his torso, but only so he could fix his hair with one hand and use the other to scratch at the other side of Dapper’s neck; he sighed at the loud squeal, and he looked to Schneeple with a grin.

'Well you deserve them! Especially for being such a good doctor I mean, you diagnosed Dappy perfectly!’

Schneeple giggled a little as Chase chuckled, their fingertips dragging up and down Dapper’s neck and scratching behind his ears with stunning synchronicity; Schneeple’s other hand still kept up its haphazard onslaught at his thigh. At each pinch, Dapper’s whole leg would jerk away as the man himself let out a magnificent snort. Meanwhile, his squeaky giggling was continuous as he scrunched his shoulders and covered his face with his hands; the poor thing was so embarrassed. Schneeple’s tone of voice dimmed a little as he spoke.

'Even zough you’re trying to hide zat cheeky smile, zat doesn’t mean you’re punishment is over!’

Dapper’s grin was made inexplicably wider under his palms as he whined and thrashed about, with little tears of mirth reaching the corners of his eyes as he suddenly gasped. The sensations…..had gone.

Dapper was frozen with uncertainty, his hands still covering his face as his body tensed and he strained his ears; hoping to pick up anything that could give him a clue as to what might be about to happen next. He knawed his bottom lip, and his chocolate brown eyes blinked and flicked about; he considered peeking through his fingers…..but he was way too nervous. He jumped when he heard shuffling from either side of him, and he felt himself flush at the sound of a light chuckle. Dapper wondered how he’d even gotten to this point, but he didn’t have much time to think. Chase and Schneeple had been smiling at each other, and it only took a couple of actions and motions for them to formulate their finale together. Surprisingly, Schneeple had no difficulty interpreting anything…..huh.

They’d shuffled themselves, Chase was on his knees and leaning over Dapper’s upper-body as Schneeple knelt by his legs; arms raised with hands poised in the shapes of claws. They looked down at the tense, motionless man for a moment, and the couple smiled as a collective realisation swept through them. Dapper was still, unmoving…..and not even trying to escape his impending doom. Schneeple and Chase agreed…..this guy was too damn cute not to tickle.

'Surprise!’

They both yelled simultaneously as they dove in. Chase nestled his face into Dapper’s neck so he could nuzzle and blow raucously loud raspberries. At the same time, Schneeple’s hands had gotten to work with pinching and squeezing up and down Dapper’s thighs and knees; making sure not to miss any inch of ticklish flesh.

'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!’

If you required an audio definition of a shriek, then this would be beyond perfect. Dapper laughed like a madman as snorts and squeals forced themselves from him, all the while his body writhed and his face contorted with his unbridled hysteria. Chase took the opportunity to coo into Dapper’s ear as he took a breath. 

'Coochie coochie coooo! We’ve got you nooooow!’

Chase emitted an exaggerated evil laugh as he administered his raspberries in frantic little bursts, and combined with the scratchiness of his facial hair, this kept Dapper squealing wildly. Said man’s hands had stayed rooted on his face to hide his crimson cheeks, which burned more at Chase’s words as Dapper whined too. For someone who avoided all words, he could still be remarkably and beautifully vocal. Schneeple smirked at the sound of Chase’s tease as he kept up his own assault and spoke in a low, taunting purr.

'Awwww vhat a sensitive leetle baby you are! Chase darling, ve simply must keep him!’

Dapper snorted and squeaked as he kicked his legs and tried to just generally curl up, he didn’t have the strength nor the motivation to fight back as he heard them both giggle to themselves.

'Agreed!’

At Chase’s response, Dapper felt himself smile even wider, and he wasn’t quite certain as to why. Wait…..yes he was. The reason his smile was so large and joyful was because of how safe Dapper felt, and that safety…..stemmed from the knowledge that he was looked after. It’s an indescribable feeling, to know for certain that you are wanted. Dapper had that feeling…..and he loved it. Amidst his profound thinking, he hadn’t even noticed how his tormentors had slowed down more and more. He peeked through his fingers, and at first he saw Chase who was grinning as he leant up from his neck.

'Ya still with us Dappy?’

Dapper was still letting out a stream of giggles as he breathed deeply, slowly letting one hand leave his face so he could rub his neck; those residual tingles were giving him chills. He looked to Chase and slowly nodded, letting the rest of his face be uncovered as he used his other hand to help him sit up.

'You had better be! I still vant my apology…..’

Schneeple exclaimed with a mock glare, which Dapper giggled at as he brought his knees to his chest; Schneeple had long since retracted his hands, but there were so many ghostly sensations. The nervous system was an evil, evil thing. Dapper smiled embarrassedly at Schneeple as he slowly raised his hands, and the latter smiled as he interpreted.

“I am sorry, honest! And only just alive…..”

Chase snickered at the last part as Dapper went back to hugging his knees and gazing at Schneeple; the doctor didn’t hesitate to chuckle and nudge his shoulder.

'Ah I forgive you! You vere wrongly influenced after all…..’

Schneeple trailed off as he sent Chase a smirk, to which Chase responded with a stuck out tongue and a playful sneer. Dapper let out a gentle sigh as the two men came close to him again, mainly so they could discuss what game to play next; but Dapper had something else on his mind. As do I. I said at the very beginning that this overall tale is about a family….I should have made that plural. This conglomeration of people are like microcosms in the macrocosm of their main family. A macrocosm is “the big”, the overall world or reality; a microcosm is like a mini-copy of that world, inside it. That’s what Schneeple, Chase and Dapper are. A small family, inside an even bigger family; either way it’s family, and that’s pretty awesome.

———————————————————————————————————–

That was a nice thing to discuss. Discussions in general can be quite nice can’t they? Just to be able to properly ramble and have people agree with or add to you point of view, is seriously nice and fulfilling. As we pull away from our microcosm, we can now find a rather wonderful discussion. A discussion revolving around love and passion, which to the untrained eye would probably be labelled as obsession; but I think we all know better. The crackling fireplace set the warmth and the atmosphere for such a chat, and the dark pink and magenta rug only added to the comfort that Walter Warfstache and Yandereplier shared. Yandere had always thought that no-one could ever match the passion that they had for their Senpai; Yandere was passion, and passion was Yandere. Until they met Walter. The dark-pink moustached man’s love and dedication to melons was a wonder for Yandere to hear, because it meant they weren’t alone when it came to feeling so much emotion for something. It was the same for Walter.

He’d been degraded and mocked for his passion, and even he himself had labelled himself as abnormal until he encountered Yandere. Their vim and vigour sparked him, and it brought the man so much joy to hear the youth and the passion that engulfed them. It was an experience.

'Senpai is my everything, there is nothing I wouldn’t do…..they have a control, but it’s a control that I want them to have…..’

Yandere’s deep, onyx eyes gazed at the embers in the fireplace as they mumbled softly, clearly in deep thought about the person that they held most dear. Walter bore a light smile, the intensity surrounding Yandere was engulfing and drawing him in, making him want to hear more as he cocked his head.

'Your dedication is marvellous, it won’t be long before your Senpai is head over heels for you.’

Yandere felt their chest swell with pride as they turned to Walter with a wide, gracious smile. Walter smiled more wholeheartedly, because he meant it; Walter wasn’t the kind to say something to appease someone else, and Yandere knew that.

'Oh I know! Hardly anything stands in my way, I’ve been very thorough….’

Walter felt himself grin at Yandere’s light reference to their, not entirely legal, exploits and adventures; to be perfectly honest, Walter was still in awe over how exactly they’d managed to achieve some of them. 

'Indeed, your extra-curricular activities are wondrous to hear about…..’

Yandere grinned a let out a small, bashful giggle at the playfulness in Walter’s voice; they smoothed down their top and their neckerchief as Walter chuckled lightly, managing to catch sight of the bashfulness.

'I mean it! Don’t go getting modest now Yan!’

Yandere let out another giggle as Walter raised one of his eyebrows, his grin was wide and cheeky as Yandere narrowed their eyes fractionally.

'As if I would even consider being such a thing.’

Walter snickered with a light sigh as he observed Yandere turn to face the fire again, lights and sparks flickering in their eyes as they inspected the flames with intent interest. Walter meanwhile, just looked at them. He took in their expression, and how gentle it seemed when Yandere was relaxed. It wasn’t just their face that was like this either, since their entire form was lightly slumped and reflected their calm demeanour; it made Walter wonder how someone who seemed so innocent could carry out such acts of brashness.

'What? What is it?’

Walter was pulled from his thoughts when Yandere spoke softly and with a hint if uncertainty; Walter hadn’t realised he’d been staring at Yandere for a little while, and he proceeded to smile with a shrug.

'It’s just…..you strike me as so innocent, and I cannot even begin to picture you murdering someone.’

Yandere furrowed their eyebrows, straightening their back as they replied, with a small glimmer of indignance in their tone.

'Well looks can be deceiving, I am definitely not innocent…..’

Yandere trailed off as they gently folded their arms at their chest, expression set resolutely as Walter tried to dim down his wide grin; Yandere was trying way too hard. Walter couldn’t blame them though, especially due to who they have to live up to. Walter still grinned though, letting out a small hum as he muttered underneath Yandere’s curious scrutiny.

'Alright, perhaps not innocent……I think adorable is a hell of a lot more accurate.’

Yandere blinked rapidly, letting out a little splutter as they observed how Walter’s tone had a teasing edge; the former pursed their lips as they replied immediately.

'I am not adorable, in ANY way!’

Walter chuckled at Yandere’s insistence as he saw their lips twitch in their pursed state, which ended up in their expression looking rather like a pout. Yandere held their head up high as they awaited Walter’s response, admittedly with a hint of trepidation.

'Mm…..well I think you are! That little pout of your just speaks for itself!’

Yandere felt their cheeks heat up with rapid embarrassment as they observed Walter’s taunting smirk……which only sent more blood to their cheeks as they fidgeted.

'Sh-shut up……’

Yandere’s mind was too jumbled to make a proper retort, so they just decided to mumble and shuffle so they had their back to him; arms still folded at their chest as Walter snickered.

'Awww, you’re not going to sulk are you?’

Yandere twisted their lips in thought, before deciding to remain insistently silent; this only made Walter’s eyes gleam as his grin morphed into a smirk. Little did Yandere know that Walter was used to dealing with the silent treatment in the form of when he and his brother were younger; Wilford had perfected it before he’d even learnt to walk. Walter shuffled closer to Yandere, who tensed as they strained their ears.

'Silence eh? Hm……would you like to know why that is a reeeally bad idea?’

At Walter’s light tone, a shiver went down Yandere’s spine; and their voice came out as a whisper, since they felt compelled to respond.

’……wh-why?’

Yandere didn’t have time to curse their stammer before Walter leant in behind them; moustache twitching as his lips curled into a devious sneer.

'Rule one. Never…….ignore……a Warfstache.’

Yandere gulped as Walter’s words fluttered and echoed in their ears, and they jumped harshly when Walter’s broad arms snaked round their midriff and pulled them into his lap. Yan was so taken aback that their arms flailed, eyes widening as they found themselves looking up at Walter; since they now lay in his lap. Walter let out a small chuckle as Yandere hurried to stammer.

'Wh-what the hell? L-let me g-go…..I-I’m warning you!’

They tried to strengthen their voice, but they only partially succeeded which made Walter chuckle more; Yandere was so cute when they were trying so hard, ironically, to be the exact opposite. Walter leant over them, his face directly over theirs as he whispered.

'You’re warning me? Well now how intriguing…..what is it that you intend to do if I don’t release you?’

Walter raised an eyebrow as Yandere went to open their mouth, but their confidence was stuck along with their voice as they averted their eyes; cheeks going pinker from embarrassment.

’……..I-I……..u-uhm……..’

Their speechlessness made it extremely difficult for Walter not to “aww” out loud as he observed them. He waited a few moments before he spoke, his voice was laced with a teasing tone that could make anyone shudder.

'That’s what I thought. I think it’s about time that someone showed you your place……’

Yandere blinked a few times as their nerves built up, their eyes were fixed on Walter as he suddenly took Yandere’s wrists in one hand and held them at their chest; Walter snickered at Yandere’s silence, and decided to just get the shown on the road.

’……which is, that even though you’re strong……it doesn’t stop you being indisputably adorable.’

Yandere to barely begin to think of a retort before a squeaky gasp left their lips; both their smile and their eyes widened…..they really should have been keeping a watch on Walter’s free hand. Because now, it had descended  and started scratching all over Yandere’s top covered tummy. Oh dear.

'N-nohoho! Y-yohou gehet a-awahahahahay!’

Yandere tried to exclaim, but giggles overran their voice-box as they squirmed and tugged at their wrists; but Walter’s grip was unwavering. Yandere was totally at his mercy.

'Look at you still trying to give commands! It’s just so adooooorable!’

Walter cooed as he pinched the areas of light tummy pudge, which made Yandere squawk and yelp haphazardly whilst blushing darker at the teasing; they tried to muster up a glare.

'Nohoho ihit ihisn’t! Ihit ihisn’t dahammihihit!’

Walter let out a disbelieving hum, sniggering as he prodded Yan’s light abdominals; relishing in the sharp inhales, and the failure to repress squeals. Walter loved their insistence more than anything though, it gave him so much to play with.

'Oh but it is……look already at how your resolve has fizzled away, leaving you in such a bubbly and cute state-’

'Sh-shuhut uhuhup oho g-gahad shuhut uhuuuup!’

Yandere interrupted with a whine as they could no longer hold back their squeaks and giggle fits, their body jumping and flinching at the cheeky sporadity; Walter narrowed his eyes a little.

'Honestly, I try to compliment you and THAT’S how you treat me? This really has been a looong time coming for you……’

Walter’s tone lowered into a purr as he tutted, thus properly turning Yandere’s cheeks crimson as their struggles increased; and yet they weren’t extremely desperate, as of yet. Yandere’s eyes were wide as they followed Walter, who had started to lean down towards their ear as if they were about to whisper; Yandere had other ideas though.

'Nohoho ihit hahasn’t! Yohou’re juhust tryihing tohoo hard toho be scahahary!’

Yandere insisted as they tried to crane their neck away, with Walter still approaching them. But at their words, Walter stopped. His breaths were slow, and Yandere nibbled their lip as he felt them flutter around his neck and collar……and it got worse when Walter spoke.

'So defiant……and yet so unwise. You’re only bringing this on yourself Yan, just so you know.’

Yandere shivered with a light gulp, but then squealed harshly as Walter leant down to bury his face in their neck; he nuzzled and growled deeply as he still holding their wrists and kept them captive on his lap; you could tell, he had experience.

'NAHAHAT THEHEHERE! OHO GAHAD NOHOHOOOO!’

Yandere tried to scrunch their shoulders, but they couldn’t escape it. The nibbling was bad enough, but with the added feature of Walter’s moustache brushing every inch of sensitive skin they had……well, it made them a cackling mess.

'Yes heeeere…….mmm, you’re aaaall mine to snack on and tickle tickle tickle…..’

Walter growled and snarled which sent extra vibrations through Yandere’s system, as well as contributing to their widespread blush; Yandere couldn’t even fight against the teasing anymore. Walter nipped down Yan’s neck, and even administered a brief one to their collar bone; and was amazed to hear a screech.

'NONONOHOHOHO FUHUHUHUCK!!’

Yandere gasped and thrashed, tugging at their arms in vain as they heard Walter chuckle; they knew they were in for it now.

'Oooooh, what an intriguing spot…….this means I have even more to devour!’

Walter smirked as Yandere frantically shook their head and threw it back in their mirth, and a near-mad smile was stretched across their face as Walter continued his devious work. He substituted nibbles for raspberries though, all along the delicate bones; Yandere, as you can imagine, was extremely grateful.

'AHAHAHAAAHHH YOHOU CAHAHAHAAAN’T!!’

Walter chuckled, grinning as he looked up to Yandere for a moment; his voice was deep, sharp, and inherently mischievous.

'Oh but I can. And I am. And I will continue unless you admit the plain and simple fact…..’

Through his speech, the hand of Walter’s that had been on Yandere’s tummy had resumed giving out little scratches and pokes; Tummy, sides, navel, waist, it was most efficient. Yandere was encased in high-pitched cackles as they attempted a reply.

’….n-nohohohohohoo……’

Their voice was whimpery, and Walter externally disregarded their words, smirking as he whispered with beautifully taunting intent.

’…..that you, are unquestionably cute.’

Yandere was yelping and squirming and shivering as they endured Walter’s tingle-inducing words, as well as the tickly touches……which had now moved to their thighs. Walter’s fingers effectively splayed and pinched, making Yandere cry out as they breathlessly rambled and cackled.

'IHI’LL NEHEVER SAHAY IHIHIHIT!!’

Walter raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes as he began to lean back into Yandere’s neck.

'Oho we’ll see…..’

However, said victim stopped him in his tracks with a wild cry.

'OHO GOD NOT THE BACKS! NOT THE BACKS!!!’

Walter paused, lips curling into a curious smirk as he rose up and away from Yandere’s neck; he glanced down to where his fingertips had swept and started to curl at the backs of Yandere’s thighs. Walter flicked his eyes to Yandere, who gulped as Walter lightened his voice.

'Ohhh…..now what do we have here?’

Yandere had no time to speak before they were being rolled off Walter’s lap so they were lying on their front on the rug; the immediatly hastened to start crawling away…..but a weight on their shins hindered that. Yandere could hear their own heart beating frantically as Walter hummed.

'Hey, look I know you want to impress your Senpai; but……this skirt? Sheesh Yan…..’

Yandere spluttered and let out a stream of embarrassed giggles as Walter chuckled at them, before looking back to the area of importance. It just so happened that the lengths of Yandere’s skirt and stockings allowed their thighs to be bare, but not so bare for any contact to be miscontrude or potentially leading to discomfort. Yandere mumbled, cheeks red with their blush.

’D-dohon’t do th-this……n-nohot there……’

Yandere cursed their weak voice as they tensed and clenched their fists, meanwhile Walter spoke in an airy tone that was filled to the brim with a taunting aura.

'If you don’t want to go through this, then you know what to say…….this is your last chance…..’

At Walter’s teasing command, Yandere let out a little gasp as their brain tried to work and process everything at an impossible speed. Yandere was so torn. Do they sacrifice their pride…..or their sanity? After a few seconds, Yandere let out a light giggle as they realised…..they’d lost their sanity long ago.

'I-I will not s-say it. Ever.’

The stammers were still there, which made Walter grin amidst his surprise at Yandere’s defiance; actually, who was he kidding. Walter had not only anticipated this, but he’d also hoped for it.

'Fine, your funeral Yan!’

Walter chuckled as he set to work, letting his fingertips scratch and dance over the backs over their thighs with an intense ruthlessness; Yandere meanwhile……had unleashed their inner banshee.

'NAHAHAHAHA!!! WAHAHAHAHAL!!!’

Yandere’s eyes were nearly bugging out of their sockets as Yan screeched and banged their fists on the foor; they wailed and gasped as Walter let out a few gentle laughs. This was like a spectator sport.

'Come now Yan, you know you can’t take this……’

Walter’s tease was stunningly malevolent, and Yandere felt it melt in their ears; it was all they could focus on amidst their hysteria and crimson visage.

'NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHORE!!!’

Yandere was squealing as tears pricked at the corners of their eyes, especially since Walter was now squeezing the sensitive flesh; tsunami waves of ticklishness were forced through Yandere’s poor, poor system. Walter liked to think that he was a merciful man, but his need for victory always took precedence.

'Two. Little. Words.’

He punctuated each word with pinches to just above the backs of Yan’s knees……which rendered them utterly broken.

'AHAHAHAHAHHHHH!!! IHIHIHI’M CUHUHUHUHUTE!!!’

Yandere’s eyes were squeezed shut as they heard Walter hum contentedly, and he mumbled to Yandere with a grin.

'Yes. Yes you are.’

Walter chuckled when Yandere let out another desperate shriek.

'IHIHIHI’LL DOHOHO AHANYTHIHIHIHIHI!!!’

Yandere’s partial incoherency and serious desperation spurred Walter to relent; he smiled as he shuffled off from Yandere’s legs. The owner of said limbs just lay there as Walter peered at them.

'Anything huh? Well first of all, breath.’

Yandere grinned widely with a breathy giggle, and their eyes were fixed on Walter as he guided them to inhale and exhale well; after a few minutes, Yandere’s sanity……well some of it, was restored. They let Walter help them to sit up on the rug as they muttered.

'Th-thahat…..was diabolical.’

Yandere almost sounded like they were in disbelief, which showed how the intensity had reallly been……and experience. Walter’s eyes lit up as he snickered, and gently pulled Yandere into his chest so they could nestle in as he replied.

'Thank you, I endeavour to try my best. Just like you.’

Yandere inhaled lightly, an amazed smile staying rooted in place as Walter grinned…..and decided to introduce melons into the conversation. Yandere listened intently, and was fascinated by Walter’s tales and how his passions seemed to mirror’s theirs. It is honestly a delight, when you find that you have something in common with someone. That is indisputable. But, when that something is a thing that’s profound, like the love or passion you feel, then it’s really special. That sort of connection is beautiful, just like sparks from a fire.

———————————————————————————————————–

We’re doing well, we’re over half-way I think. Now we have another little wander, into another room in fact.  The kitchen here is a few metres away with cabinets and utilities that are essential, and otherwise boring. The part we’re faced with is much nicer and more interesting, since its main feature is a beech-wood dining table and chairs that is laden with a plethora of savoury snacks. Courtesy of a number of gentlemen, whose haphazard and unique personalities are key for such a task. Those people of course, are Bingiplier and The Jims.

'Jim do you have the cashews?’

'The cashews Jim?’

'Yes the cashews Jim.’

'Yes Jim, I just put them between the roasted peanuts and salted pretzels.’

'Ah, very good Jim! Nice arrangement!’

'Why thank you Jim!’

……..yes, that is how the conversation went and is in fact how the majority of the conversations between the Jims go. If I’m to be more specific, these two Jims are reporters; so it’s understandable that speed and efficiency are a part of their characters. Meanwhile, as bowls and platters were being shifted, we have Bing. He snickered as his burnt, orange eyes flicked between them both; he’d be completely content to just watch the pair of them. You’d never be bored. Although, he felt the need to contribute.

'Uh, guys?’

The Jims turned to him , eyes gently blinking as they both smiled and cocked their heads.

'Yes Bing?’

The spoke in sync, which Bing shook off since it was a constant occurrence.

'We uh, need breadsticks.’

Both their eyes seemed to widen before they burst into rapid fire conversing, commenting and generally rambling. Bing grinned as he watched them, leaning his hip on the side of the table.

'Oh the breadsticks!’

'Yes the breadsticks!’

'Fantastic Bing!’

'Yes Bing, you are a marvel!’

'This is why you’re better than Google!’

'Oh definitely!’

Bing felt himself start giggling, and so went to cover his mouth as the Jims shot off to the cupboards to search for their forgotten snack; not even waiting for Bing to reply. Not that he would have been able to since he was too damn stunned by what they said……I mean, wow. Bing shook his head and looked over the array of food, and he could feel his system becoming jittery with the thought of actually tucking in. Even though a being like Bing didn’t need food, he still reeeeally loved it. He flicked his eyes to the Jims, and they were both occupied…..so Bing figured that this was his chance. His hand shot forth to the bowl of cashews where he swiped a handful and shoved them in his mouth, and Bing smiled as he shut his eyes momentarily as he crunched and relished in their taste; dammit, now he was just even more hungry. But he didn’t want to risk exposure. He brushed his hand on the back of his jeans…..just as the Jims turned around; and they didn’t hesitate to comment curiously.

'Bing why are you brushing your buttocks?’

'Do they itch?’

'Is it a nervous tick?’

'It would be a rather strange nervous tick……’

'You could talk to Dr Iplier!’

Bing felt himself grin and splutter as he waved his hands at them both, repressing a few giggles.

'Nah guys, my jeans were just kinda creased…..I don’t have a habit of nervous butt brushing.’

'Ohhhhh…..’

Both Jims sighed in sync as they smiled, immediately going back to food arrangement as Bing let out a gentle sigh; dear god, he bet that even the Host wouldn’t be able to predict half the things that the Jims came up with. That did make them unique and special though. Bing went back to observing, despite how he was starting to get gradually more and more bored…..as well as hungry. Bing’s stomach was yearning for more, and Bing was having to fight the urge to salivate at a constant rate as even more crisps were brought out; oh the temptations.

'Ah, remember the doritos for Anti, we want a happy glitch on our hands Jim.’

'Well said Jim, do we use regular cool or tangy cheese flavour?’

'Hm……both, just to be safe Jim.’

And now Bing could smell doritos, dear god this was actual torture. Bing thought for a moment, then sighed as he internally decided; f*** it.

'Uh, what about celery sticks? We don’t want an unhappy edgelord either.’

Bing’s voice was slightly higher than usual, but the Jims didn’t notice even as they looked to him; their expressions were resolute as they agreed.

'We definitely don’t want that, do we Jim?’

'Certainly not Jim; although I find it ironic that the most bitter snack is consumed by the most bitter person in existence.’

'I must agree Jim, one would have thought he didn’t need any more bitterness on his person.’

Bing fought the urge to burst out laughing as the Jims went to the fridge, the way that their playful jabs at Dark bounced off of each other was just stunning; but now, Bing hastened to claim his prize…..and he did it successfully. Bing had a satisfied smile on his face as he went to brush off his hand again…..but then he looked back to the other two men in the room; Bing’s eyes widened when he saw one of the Jims, specifically the reporter in silver, staring at him. Oddly enough though, he had a small smile in place.

'Jim…..we have a traitor in our midst.’

Bing gulped as the other Jim, in blue, turned to his twin with interest in his eyes, before looking to Bing; he however didn’t get a chance to speak, since Bing’s babbling filled the room. He was clearly trying to excuse his actions.

'H-hey guys, look i-it was only two handfuls of nuts, and I’m super hungry! I haven’t eaten since like 6pm!’

Bing looked to them both, fingers fidgeting as the Jims listened; but Bing noted that BOTH of them were smiling gently now. Jim silver started off their train of statements.

'It’s not about the nuts themselves, it’s the principle.’

'You went behind our backs Bing.’

'Your intentions may have been innocent…’

'But this is a betrayal of trust.’

'Betrayal deserves punishment.’

Bing was hurriedly trying to keep up, and it was only thanks to his software that he managed to actually register anything. By that point though…..it was too late; Bing’s fate was sealed in the form of two reporters…..smiling, and approaching at speed.

'W-woah h-hey c'mon, you don’t need to do this! We c-can ju-AH!’

Bing had been backing away with hands lightly raised, his lips twitching from his nerves as the Jims had been pacing towards him; they had been going slowly…..but then had suddenly lunged forward and brought him to the floor. Jim blue held his wrists as Bing fell to the floor on his back, thankfully on the fluffy rug rather than the tiles. Jim silver had sat next to him as he seemed to smile wider.

'It’s too late for you Bing, if only you’d managed to restrain yourself…..’

'At least now we can do it for you!’

Jim blue let out a small snicker as he kept his hold secure on Bing’s wrists, even as he tugged; said man’s gaze flicked between them both, he gulped and wriggled in anticipation. What did they plan to do? Jim silver had rolled up his sleeves, and his words had been spoken clearly and serenely; despite his calm tone though, Bing could tell that he was excited.

'Wh-what are y-you gonna do?’

Bing’s voice was high and quiet, and the Jims seemed to become elated at the sound of it; Jim silver started off.

'Since your stomach has been vying for attention…..’

'Then we might as well help it from the outside!’

Bing was confused for a moment…..but then he yipped, and the confusion dissipated in favour of embarrassment and impending giddiness. Jim silver’s hands had started to prod and probe Bing’s tummy, slipping under his vest to get to the bare skin.

'Nononohohohoho! Dohon’t doho thihis oho gahahad Ihi’m sahaharry!’

Bing was already giggling as he tugged at his wrists, but Jim blue still held tight as he smiled to his twin; there was a strong inference of deviousness as he began their next spiel.

'Oh but we forgave you instantly!’

'We’re only helping your tummy!’

'By giving it the attention it clearly wants, right Jim?’

'Exactly! And it looks like my probing is doing well!’

Bing was quickly being reduced to a snorting, squeaking mess as his tummy was scratched and pinched by Jim silver’s nimble fingers; even through the light torment though, Bing could see their poorly disguised mischief.

'Nohohoho ihit ihisn’t! Yohou’re bohoth lyihing fihibbehehehers!!’

Both Jims let out little, surprised gasps as they looked to one another, seemingly stunned; Bing, as a result, started to regret his words as both Jims looked back down at him.

'Fibbers?! Well that’s rude!’

'We are no such thing, right Jim?’

'Damn right Jim! Goodness, I have never been so offended!’

'Nor I Jim!’

Through their conversation, Bing’s giggling had morphed into cackles veeeeery quickly as Jim silver’s fingers had spontaneously shot up to his ribs; the pads of his fingers massaged the bones as Bing thrashed about.

'WAHAHAIT WAHAIT NOHOHO! FAHACK IHIHI’M SAHAHAHARRY!!’

Jim silver snickered as he watched Bing with mischievous curiosity, and Jim blue did just the same. Bing’s wild reactions just, the whole concept of tickling intrigued them actually; the Jims loved it. They loved seeing how it could destroy the stubborn, wipe away the morose, enhance the smallest flicker of joy, and get rid of any tension that a person may be burdened with. The Jims also loved when they had an excuse to administer it, like with Bing. So they figured they’d make the most of it.

'We said we’d already forgiven you! Goodness, what a reaction!’

'Just from some very simple actions too…..’

The pair of them paused, and even through his hysterical cackling Bing could sense that there was something coming; and he had no way to fight back. Jim blue spoke again, very slowly.

'It does make me wonder if other areas would elicit such responses…..’

'I wondered the same thing Jim!’

'Perhaps we should pay attention to some other spots, just so they don’t feel left out!’

'Excellent idea Jim! And we wouldn’t want to be accused of favouritism…..’

As Jim silver trailed off, his fingertips trailed away from their torment at Bing’s ribs; their owner was left gasping and in a giggly daze as his eyes widened. Ohhhh he really was screwed; if only he’d managed to control his need for nuts.

'F-Fuhuhuhuck guys plehehehease! Nohowhehere ehehelse…..’

Bing then trailed off with a rather pitiful whine as he squirmed, since Jim silver’s fingertips were absently trailing round his sides and even near the droid’s back; at least, as far as his fingers could worm themselves. The Jims chuckled melodiously.

'But why Bing? Surely the rest of you deserves some care?’

'Come on Bing, let us be kind…..’

Bing was giggling as his cheeks burned a rusty, tangerine colour; all because of how flustered he was….the Jims were seriously good with their nonchalant teasing. Bing was so unfocused, that he didn’t resist when Jim blue shifted so he could pin Bing’s arms under his knees, thus stretching them above his head. This mean that Jim blue now had both hands free, poor Bing.

'Sh-shihihit…..b-buhut t-…..tihihicklihing ihis tohorturohohous!!’

Bing’s eyes were wide as he looked between his two captors pleadingly, but he found the butterflies in his tummy flutter incessantly when the pair smirked at him. Despite them being the same, their expressions still had light differences. Jim blue’s smirk was wide, cheeky and extremely boyish; whereas Jim silver’s was thinner, and had a distinct aura of mischief. They contrasted beautifully as Bing’s nervous system braced itself, all the while the Jims spoke.

'But Bing, don’t you get it?’

'That’s what makes it more fun!’

As soon as Jim silver’s words had left his lips, both Jims had started their tickly work. Jim blue’s fingertips had lowered and started endlessly fluttering at Bing’s neck and ears; such poor, delicate areas.

'Nahahahahaha! Nahahahat fohor mehehehe!!’

Bing had squealed and now tossed his head about, grinning from ear to ear as Jim blue snickered down at him. Jim silver meanwhile, was also gentle, since he was engaging in a more exploratory venture. His fingertips roamed over Bing’s sides, ribs, tummy, waist…..basically anywhere that could be considered remotely sensitive; all the while the Jims spoke brightly.

'Oh don’t lie to us Bing! We can see how happy you are!’

'Yeah Bing! You know you’re loving our tickles!’

The matter-of-fact way in which they spoke only embarrassed Bing more as his torso squirmed and flinched, and Bing was just entirely encased by giddy joy.

'Dohohohon’t pohoint ihit ohohout yohou pohohoopehers!!’

The Jims each raised an eyebrow in shock as they kept up their gentleness……they couldn’t believe that Bing had actually admitted it, without them even having to ask him to! Although, when they looked upon his shivery, flustered form they realised that any sense of focus had just simply flown away. Jim blue kept flicking and tracing Bing’s ears to keep him giggling and yelping. whilst Jim silver stayed absent as he mumbled.

'But we must…..such an adorable truth can’t be hidden away…..’

'Precisely! Such cuteness in general should never be repressed Bing, and I’m surprised that no-one else has discovered this sooner!’

Bing had no choice but to squeeze his eyes shut as he shook his head even faster, which the Jims chuckled at with strong fondness. Bing was moments away from actually fighting back with some moderately focused words…..but that was not to be.

'NONONO NOT THERE OHO GAD IHI’LL DIE!!!’

Bing very nearly shrieked as he felt Jim silver’s fingertips brush over his hipbones. Now, I know you’re probably thinking that this is an area that will coax out some hysteria; that is incorrect. Bing felt so frantic because this spot…..would melt him beyond belief. The Jims were inherently curious, so they didn’t stop themselves.

'Oh really?’

'I doubt that very much, don’t you Jim?’

'I do indeed Jim…..’

Bing whimpered a little, but soon let out a weak cry as Jim silver’s thumbs started to rub the bones in slow, teasing circles. Both Jims watched with glee as Bing shivered and arched his back, giggling deeply as he let out little hums.

'Ohoho….g-gahahahad…..nahat heheheeeere…..’

As each second passed by, Bing could feel himself turning into mushy putty at the Jims’ focused work; his hips were being given ample attention, and his neck and ears were tickled with the lightest, most evil precision. The Jims…..were actually in awe.; they were amazed at how Bing just melted.

'But Bing, this seems to have a really relaxing effect on you…..’

'A melting effect, correct Jim?’

'Indeed Jim. And since you’ve succumbed so easily, it would be mean of us to deny you this…..’

The words barely registered in Bing’s circuits as he wriggled, his head rolling back as a gentle, lazy smile stayed etched on his face. The tingles and waves that were shooting through Bing’s system were…..indescribable. The area seemed to be some sort of nerve hotspot, which as you can see was highly convenient for his current captors.

'Mmm…..g-guys c'mohohohoooon…..Ihi cahahahan’t…..’

The Jims could see that Bing was reaching his limit, but they did take a few moments to relish in Bing’s state and demeanour…..because it was stunning. His body, relaxed, his smile open and joyous along with his glinting orange eyes and blazing burnt cheeks. The Jims shared a glance…..before they then relented.

'In that case, we shall grant you mercy…..on this occasion.’

'Indeed, but you should watch yourself in the future Bing…..’

'You never know who might pounce!’

As Bing regained his breath, he giggled and sighed in relief as fingers were retracted and the ability to use limbs was restored. Bing hugged his body tightly as he averted his gaze from their smirking faces; he was still so embarrassed.

'Sh-shuhush…..’

At Bing’s muffled mumble, the Jims let out a collective snicker; and they also decided something. They both stood, and Bing could hear shuffling before he jumped, since a bowl had been shoved in front of his face. A bowl…..containing cashews. Bing flicked his eyes up, and grinned at the sight of the Jims; they had deviance dancing in their eyes, and kindness prancing in their hearts. Bing accepted the bowl…..and tucked in. Hugging his knees on a rug, a few metres away from where there were tasks to be carried out. However, Bing and the Jims knew something. It’s not really a task if it’s something you want to do…..because then it becomes a privilege.

———————————————————————————————————–

When observing Bing, the phrase “working hard or hardly working” came to mind; I bring this up, because the first half of this phrase certainly applies to a certain man at the moment. We’re going to have to wander a bit, through a few corridors, but eventually we reach our destination. This is one of my favourite rooms, since it mixes work and play so to speak. With its crescent shaped desk with ample technology, and the gargantuan couch-bed hued with contrasting pinks gives the room a wholesome feel. When you have quite a work centred life, it’s important to have something comfy to fall back on when you take your much needed and deserved breaks. Wilford Warfstache, one of the two who used this room, knew and understood that. Bim Trimmer however…..did not. Bim was at the desk, rifling through e-mails and countless drafts of scripts needed for the new year; the guy never knew when to stop.

Wilford knew this. The vibrant man was on the path that we’d just come from, going down corridors with the intent of hauling Bim’s workaholic ass out of that room so they could celebrate the eve of a new year of shenanigans; those are his words, just to clarify. He bounded through the door, entering loudly as per; Bim merely rolled his eyes as he stayed focused on the screen before him, he knew why Wilford was here.

'Trimmer, shift it! That’s an order!’

Wilford exclaimed with fists on his hips, his expression set resolutely as he stared at the back of Bim’s head; and when Bim didn’t immediately respond Wilford stalked forward. Bim saw him partially in the reflection of the monitor, and smiled weakly with a sigh.

'Look, we both know how much needs to be done…..you deserve to have fun tonight babes, just leave me to it and it’ll get done quicker.’

Wilford twisted his lips at Bim’s light tone…..it’s clear that some of his own stubbornness had rubbed off on his work-obsessed boyfriend. Wilford knew that Bim meant well, he always did, but this was New Year’s Eve dammit! This was the WORLD’S exception! Wilford huffed, his bottom lip sticking out as he paced closer to Bim so he was standing right behind him; he let out a childish whine.

'But how am I meant to have fun if you’re not with meeee?’

Bim smiled a little wider at his tone, all the while he clicked through spreadsheets whilst mumbling softly.

'You’ll find a way sweetie, you always do….’

Wilford was the definition of dissatisfied, and a little annoyed too; did Bim really not want to spend time with him? It was a special occasion too. Wilford was silent, which unfortunately meant that his mind has started to…..work on overdrive. I suffer from this sometimes, overthinking. When something is said, or if the way it’s said seems even fractionally different then my brain can just spin and wind together scenarios and eventualities that are completely horrible and unrealistic; but my mind will convince me that they’re entirely rational. Wilford was doing this. Bim didn’t want to spend time with him on New Year’s Eve, so did that mean he didn’t want to spend time with him at all? Was Bim going off him? Did Bim find his need for company and attention annoying and tedious? Wilford swallowed harshly, fidgeting with his fingers as he whispered.

'Bim……please.’

Bim immediately caught Wilford’s change in tone; previously he’d been excited, and wonderfully bombastic as he usually was…..but now he seemed to sound almost upset. Bim whirled round in his chair, and he felt a jolt in his stomach as he saw Wilford’s form slump and his energy die out; Bim cautiously whispered.

'Hey…..hey Wilfy, it’s okay…..’

Wilford stayed still, looking down at his feet as Bim rose from his seat; he only had to take a single step before he was right in front of him. Bim nibbled his lip nervously as he raised his hand and placed it under Wilford’s jaw, and he tilted it up so they could look at each other properly; that was when Bim realised…..this meant a lot to Wilford. And Bim would be lying if he said it didn’t mean a lot to him too.

’S-sorry I uh, heh, I just wanted to….y'know……h-have the New Year with you……’

Wilford tripped over his words a little as he hugged his middle, all the while his eyes flicked about nervously and with uncertainty. However, that jitteriness did die down a little when he felt Bim’s thumb run over his jawline, softly and in a gently soothing manner; it gave Wilford the confidence to look at Bim who was smiling lightly.

'Sweetheart…..I’d be a madman if I decided to spend tonight doing anything else.’

Wilford blinked a few times as Bim’s words sunk in, but then he felt warmth bubble in his chest as Bim leant forward and kissed his lips softly. Bim was slow as he smiled, deciding to pull Wilford’s suspenders so he stumbled fractionally; Wilford’s cheeks were tinged pink as they kissed for what seemed like a rather long while, but they eventually pulled away slowly. Bim felt himself grin lightly.

'I’m sorry for being a work obsessed idiot.’

Wilford let out a little sigh, rolling his eyes a little as he mumbled with a small smile; his paranoia had dissipated and flaked away like the weak thing it was.

'Well you can’t help being a dedicated, talented individual…..’

Bim gasped with a smile as he placed a hand on his chest, usually compliments like this would fluster him; tonight however, Bim was filled with bold joy.

'Oh Wilford…..oh how you make my heart a'flutter!’

Wilford grinned and let out a giggle, using a hand to cover his mouth as Bim drew back and performed a light twirl; Wilford shook his head at him……dear god he was so perfect.

'Oh my gohod shut up ya goofus!’

At Wilford’s reaction Bim grinned, shuffling forward to give a little boop to the man’s pink cheek. Wilford only smiled more as he batted Bim’s hands away, but didn’t protest when Bim’s arms snaked round his waist to hold him close.

'Now THAT is more like it! We are not leaving this room until that little smile stays put!’

Bim’s own smile was cheeky as he saw Wilford’s cheeks get pinker, god he loved it when he got the chance to be the flusterer; Wilford’s reactions were just the most precious things in existence. Wilford was indeed flustered, but that didn’t mean that his defiant nature had been dimmed. Bim observed Wilford as he looked to him, and the man’s gentle grin suddenly morphed into a small, childish pout. Bim raised an eyebrow.

'Ohh……that’s how it’s going to be is it?’

Wilford knawed on his bottom lip as he averted his eyes, desperately repressing his smile as Bim’s only developed into a stunning, gentle smirk. He was elated. Bim relished in the light shiver that Wilford exhibited as he pulled him closer, watching carefully as the man mumbled delicately.

'Mhm…..’

Wilford’s heart was already beating faster…..and he could have sworn that it had stopped when Bim suddenly giggled.

'Oh I am gonna have so much fun forcing you!’

Wilford’s eyes widened as he squeaked, since Bim had swept him into a bridal hold in a flash as he bounded to the heavily draped couch; Wilford gasped as he was dropped as Bim’s weight settled on his thighs. The sight of Bim gazing down at him…..wholly handsome and mischievous; it gave Wilford the most glorious butterflies.

'Oh no……..’

Wilford’s words were barely audible, but Bim’s heard them and smirked wider as a result. He leant over Wilford, giggling again as he pecked his lips and whispered.

'I bet you’re sooooo jittery, because you know what I’m gonna dooooo…..’

Bim’s quiet words held a hint of a coo as his hands shifted to trail up and down Wilford’s sides, just to gently warm him up for what was to come. Lets be honest, Wilford was never going to not smile. His lips only twitched for a second before he was grinning widely, with giggles spewing from his lips as he squirmed.

'B-Bihimmy noho tihihicklihing!’

Bim let out a content hum, his tummy bubbling at the nickname as he relished in Wilford’s giggly state; he loved it when he was like this, especially when it was all from Bim’s touch. It was made even better by the fact that Wilford didn’t fight back, or even try to; he just loved it way too much.

'But you loooove the tickling! You love it when my hands are all over you…..’

Wilford spluttered and blushed at Bim’s lowered tone, giggling even harder as Bim’s fingertips snuck under his shirt to scratch at his tummy and waist. Bim’s eyes were glittering as he watched Wilford hurriedly go to cover his burning cheeks.

'Ohohoho my gahad yohou cheheeky bahastahahard!’

Wilford’s smile was wide, just like his bright brown eyes that were alight with his mirth and embarrassment. At Wilford’s words, Bim narrowed his eyes and grasped the beautiful opportunity that they offered; he lunged to bury his face into Wilford’s neck, nuzzling and growling as he properly dug into his belly.

'What the hell did you just call me? You wanna repeat that for me sweet-cheeks?’

Wilford squealed and writhed as he burst into bubbly cackles, he was gasping and squeaking as his words tumbled out like a landslide.

'NONONOHOHOHO IHI’M SAHARRY IHI’M SAHARRY IHI DIHIDN’T MEHEAN IHIHIT!’

Bim chuckled as he kept up his rapid nuzzling, grinning as he kissed and nipped at a little spot under Wilford’s ear which got him to snort magnificently; that’s the thing about being in a couple…..you know every single damn spot.

'You better not have meant it…..or there would have been seeeerious consequences.’

Wilford shivered as his cheeks went properly crimson, god the verbal teasing combined with Bim’s damn teasing lips was going to be the utter death of him. Bim placed a sloppy kiss on Wilford’s ear before he reared up to look over his handiwork, and he was more than satisfied with the handsome rapscallion that greeted his eyes. Wilford was a beautiful mess, with hair mussed and smile wide and unencumbered as he mumbled.

'Ohoho….g-gohohod yohou meheanihie…..’

Well now…..Bim spied another opportunity. He let out a purposefully loud sigh as all of his movements stilled, and it only took Wilford a few moments to realise what he’d said; he looked up to Bim with wide eyes as he hurried to stammer.

'A-ah no, I didn’t me-’

'Quiet.’

Bim’s voice was low, and bore a tone of command that it never usually had; Wilford bit back his words, gulping as Bim’s eyes became narrowed and fixed upon him. You wouldn’t think that Bim, sweet, innocent little Bim could be remotely intimidating; but with his soft, well thought out words…..he could send many a chill through your system. Bim started to tut, words flowing out slowly.

'I don’t think I have ever met anyone, more deserving of punishment than you. You’re asking for it every time you open up that rude, little mouth…..’

As Bim spoke, he’d reached to run his thumb across Wilford’s bottom lip, as Wilford simply gazed up at him; transfixed and agape, with his heart beating faster in nerves and anticipation. Wilford’s blush was blazing like a beacon too, just hearing Bim talk about…..the “p’ 'word made him shiver; oh god, what was he going to do to him? Wilford let out a little gasp as both of Bim’s hands moved, his fingertips grazing down Wilford’s sides.

'B-bahaby…….Ihi’m sohorreheheee…..’

Wilford’s whimpery giggles made Bim smirk wider, and the sight of Wilford squirming beneath him meant that Bim was insanely elated; and he let out a light chuckle when Wilford flinched…..Bim had found his hips.

'Let’s be honest Wilford…..you’re really not.’

Wilford could only let out a wild screech as Bim’s thumbs suddenly dug into the bowels of his hips, speedily rubbing and massaging the bundles of nerves as Wilford bucked and cackled like a complete and utter madman.

'AHAHAHAHAHA FAHAHAHAAAACK!! NAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE!!’

Wilford, it’s safe to say, was in ticklish agony. His eyes were squeezed shut as loud, rapid squeals pierced through his loud laughter; you could say that this was a particularly bad spot for poor Wilford. Bim snickered and giggled, he couldn’t keep up that intimidating act for long; he was too damn goofy.

'Coochie coochie coo! Awwww look who’s a ticklish little baby!’

Bim cooed as he kept his touch firm, whilst Wilford threw his head back amidst his wailing. He was shaking as his hands bashed the sofa haphazardly and indeed violently, his poor body had no idea of how to defend itself, mainly because internally, Wilford had no desire to stop Bim. At all.

'DOHOHOHOHN’T CAHALL MEHE THAHAHAHAAAAT!!!’

Bim felt his heart flutter at Wilford’s whine, and he as he kept up his torturous work so he could coo all the more.

'I’ll call you what I want thank you! Because you’re aaaaall mine!’

Wilford was gasping with tears in his eyes as his tummy bubbled with flustered butterflies, as well as tingles and bursts emanating from his hyper sensitive hips. The man let out a loud cry, since he was approaching his limit.

'PLEHEHEHEHEHE!!! IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T!!!’

The desperation in Wilford’s voice rang loud, and Bim smiled at him fondly as he carefully slowed his rubbing movements; his hands swept away as Wilford breathed deeply whilst his eyes fluttered open and shut. Bim stayed perched on his thighs, looking down at him with a soft gaze.

'God…..I love how ticklish you are.’

Bim bore a wide smile as Wilford giggled lightly, nibbling his lip as he averted his gaze; his words were a little mumble.

’…..m-me tohoo…..’

Wilford was still blushing, it was at the point where it was questionable whether his cheeks would ever return to normal; but then again, a blushing Wilford Warfstache is a beautiful sight. Bim would certainly insist. Said man smiled and leant down, kissing Wilford softly and deeply as Wilford emitted a giggly hum. After a few moments of that sweetness though, Bim let out a slightly surprised squeak as Wilford let out a surge of energy so he could sit up; Wilford deepened the kiss too as Bim grinned happily. When they withdrew, Wilford wore a gentle smirk as he whispered.

'Shall we?’

Their eyes were locked as Bim nodded, but then let out a yelp when Wilford suddenly lifted him up; the moustached man stood with Bim in his arms as said man giggles came out bubbly.

'Oho gohosh WilfORD!’

The reason why Bim’s voice has suddenly become raised, was because of how Wilford literally sprinted from the room. Now…..Bim wouldn’t go as far to say that he was fearful for his life, because he wasn’t. He never could be with Wilford. Even though the goofily yelled words ’'ONWARDS TO 2018!’ echoed down the corridors, you have to admit; it was ever so slightly profound.

———————————————————————————————————–

Time to continue on to something similarly profound, we shall have to traverse a few more corridors but we eventually will arrive; at a bedroom in fact. I’m going to tell a certain number of you to hush your lewd minds, I’m sure you know who you are. Anyhow, as with before there is only one gentleman here at present, Darkiplier to be precise. He was sat, perched at the foot of a lavish king-sized bed; it was formed with some kind of sleek wood, mahogany perhaps. The sheets though, were a light green with the duvet accommodating a darker, forested hue. We all know that that’s not Dark’s personal colour of preference, but when it comes to his boyfriend; it’s the colour that Antisepticeye rather loves. So Dark had to admit…..it was indeed lovely.

Dark smiled at the thought of his significant other, sighing as he absently stared at an opposing wall. He was deep in reflection. This past year had been…..a lot. And although he knew that spending tonight with everyone else was the right thing, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be surrounded by people; he wondered if it might be best…..for him to take a step back. Let them have their time, and he his privacy.

'DARKY BABY?! WHERE ARE YA?!’

Dark slowly grinned…..oh how unrealistic that prospect was. Dark straightened up as he looked to the doorway, and let out a gentle chuckle as Anti flew into the room; he was smiling like a maniac with his body glitching non-stop and rapidly…..god he was wondrous to behold when he was excited.

'There ya are! I was worried you’d bailed on me!’

Dark chuckled again as Anti approached, but Dark’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes…..which Anti immediately picked up on as he cocked his head at his boyfriend. Anti sighed internally. He’d known that this was going to happen. This year had been a damn hectic and profound one, so it made sense that during the transition to the next…..he didn’t want to be under any obligations in public. Dark looked to him, he could tell that Anti knew.

’…..would it be so bad if I did bail?’

Dark’s voice was gentle as he fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt, all the while he gazed at Anti with real genuinity in his eyes. Anti smiled a little, he could see that Dark was encased in his profound bubble. So…..Anti did what he always did with a stray bubble; he popped it.

'Yes! Absolutely!’

Dark blinked a few times as Anti plopped down next to him, his smile widening as Dark raised an eyebrow fractionally.

'Oh? And why is that?’

Dark’s eyes sparkled a little, despite his earlier reluctance still fizzling away a bit…..he was curious to hear his boyfriend’s attempts at persuading him. He was not to be disappointed, since Anti grinned and swiftly clapped his hands together.

'Well, first off! Bing and the Jims have taken the trouble to put celery sticks with all the snacks, juuuust for you and your need for bitterness!’

Dark felt himself grinning despite himself, and his eyebrow rose further at Anti; said man smirked, he knew he was getting somewhere. Especially when Dark mumbled.

’…..go on.’

Anti smirked wider at that point. His gaze raked over Dark’s face as he spoke more, and Anti’s voice lowered into a small purr at this next little part.

'Secondly, when that clock strikes midnight I wanna snog the crap out of ya. I wanna make out in front of everyone so everyone knows who we are, and that we’re together.’

Dark’s grin faltered as a wave of bashfulness ran through him, and he averted his eyes for a moment as Anti’s cheeky giggle filled his ears; Dark cleared his throat a little as he fiddled with his fingers.

'Well, ahem, that uh….that sounds…..particularly inviting….’

Anti’s eyes lit up at the sound of Dark’s fragmented speech, and his grin was impossibly wide as he shuffled closer to him by a few inches; proximity, Anti knew, made Dark easier to convince.

'Is that a yeeeees? Oh and just so ya know, even if you do say no to me…..I can still make you come with me.’

Anti’s voice was a murmur amidst his speech, and the man let out a crackly laugh when Dark seemed to tense; but Dark still looked to Anti disbelievingly.

'Can you indeed? I don’t deny that you have many talents, Anti dearest, but I don’t think you’re quite capable of that.’

Dark felt himself smirking, since his regular confidence had risen up and reared its head; mainly because of how Anti’s words had rather sounded like…..a challenge. At Dark’s demeanour, Anti’s smirk effortlessly matched his. It was wide, toothy, and devious.

'Oh but I am…..trust me.’

Anti didn’t bother being patient anymore, he never could hold himself back when it came to getting his hands on Dark; and believe me when I say, Anti intended to get very hands on with his cocky boyfriend. Anti had taken Dark by his shirt collar and pushed him so that Dark was now fully lying on the bed; you could say that Dark was rather taken aback.

'Wh-what the hell Anti?! Y-you…..dare to manhandle me?’

Dark growled lightly as he squirmed, all the while Anti simply crawled on top of him. Dark’s gaze was curious, analytical…..and nervous. Anti was lying on him now, and Dark’s arms lay limp at his sides as he became partially transfixed, looking up at Anti.

'Oh I’m going to do a lot more than that…..’

Anti was so…..enthusiastic. Dark observed how his eyes seemed to shine and flick about, and the rest of him was just as restless; particularly his hands. They flinched and curled and tapped out in the air; and suddenly, Dark could feel the apprehension pooling in his tummy; and Anti must have read his mind. Because now…..a slow, careful hand had wormed its way between them so it could roam over Dark’s belly; the fingertips scratched over the thin shirt Dark wore, that offered no protection. Dark’s eyes widened…..fuck.

'O-oho n-no…. A-Antihi d-don’t yohou d-dahahare…..’

Dark’s voice had fallen into a much quieter resonance, and the man himself was fighting a smile even though his voice had already betrayed him. He should have known. Only Anti was bold enough and mischievous enough to do this to him; said man snickered as he purred.

'Oh but I must dare, since no-one else will…..and besides, I do love making a mess of you.’

Dark’s smile had broken free as yippy, sporadic giggles and huffs of air left his lips; Dark was squirming as well as being utterly tense, with his arms frozen at his sides. Yes. You may read into that. At Anti’s words…..Dark’s cheeks started to play their role too.

'Y-yohohou cheheeky dihihihick! Ihihi’ll m-mahahake yohohou regrehet thihihihis!’

Anti giggled at Dark’s words and his new-born flush, all the while his fingers explored and snuck under Dark’s shirt so they could scratch at his sensitive waistline. That earned Anti a few bucks as he replied with a sneer.

'What? Right now? When you’re all giggly and defenceless? I think not Darky…..’

Dark squealed a few times, tossing his head as he tried to ignore the teasing sensations…..but alas, by this point it was all he could really comprehend.

'Fuhuhuhuck yohohohou!!’

Anti let out a deep, fake gasp as he lowered his voice considerably; he sent Dark a light wink as he purred.

'Such filthy language…..what a dirty little boy you are.’

Dark’s breath got caught in his throat, but it was soon released as a loud squeal flew from him and Dark descended into squeaky cackles. Anti was smirking, glad that he’d decided to spontaneously scratch and pinch Dark’s thighs, which thrashed in response to the touches.

'NAHAHAHAHAHA IHI’M NAHAHAHAHAT!!’

Anti raised an eyebrow as Dark tossed his head frantically, and his face was screwed up as he blushed and laughed; meanwhile, Anti’s reply was beautifully sarcastic.

'Aren’t you? Well that disgraceful language kinda suggests otherwise babe…..’

Dark could only wail and cry out as he tugged at his legs, whilst his fists stayed balled up and tensely motionless; however, this contrasted rather heavily with the rest of him. At this point Anti decided to, ahem, up the ante; in a manner of speaking. So he leant down with a feral grin, before nuzzling and nibbling at Dark’s tender, exposed waistline.

'NONONONOHOHOHOHOHO!! NOHO FAHAHAHAHAHACE!!’

Anti giggled against Dark’s waist, which only made Dark squeak and laugh more as Anti just disregarded his words entirely; he smirked as he growled, using his hands to hold Dark’s hips to stop him moving as he mumbled.

'Mmmmm…..what tasty prey….I think I’ll definitely keep you aaaaall to myself!’

Dark gasped and yelped as his ability to wriggle was destroyed, and he threw his head back as he shrieked; Anti’s damn facial hair and lips and teeth…..were reducing him to a mess. It was made worse by the fact that Anti had pushed his shirt up way past his ribs…..he’d never been more exposed.

'PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! IHI CAHAN’T TAHAHAKE IHIT THEHEHEHEHEEERE!!’

Dark’s desperation in that moment had unearthed itself as Dark’s hands suddenly rushed forward to push Anti’s head away roughly; dear god…..Dark was encased in breathless anticipation. Anti meanwhile, let out a slightly evil chuckle as he looked up; and without any hesitation…..he caught Dark’s wrists in his hands.

'Oh dear…..can little Darkipoo not take the tickles on his tuuuuum?’

As Anti leant up and away from Dark’s lower torso, wrists still in hand, he gazed at Dark who spoke weakly and breathily.

'Sh-shuhuhuhut uhuhuhuuup…..i-ihit wahas s-soho ehevihil….’

Anti couldn’t hold back his giggles at the sound of Dark’s whimpery flusteredness. It made Anti happy to no end to see Dark become undone so innocently, and rather handsomely. Anti was still for a few moments, before he started shifting.

'Oh, evil was it? Was it truly…..diabolical?’

Anti whispered as he pinned Dark’s arms to his sides, and then shuffled himself a few inches so that he could look properly into Dark’s eyes, whilst hovering his head over Dark’s torso. Dark meanwhile only gulped, and nodded hesitantly as he whispered back.

’…..mhmmm…..’

Anti pouted, pulling a faked look of sympathy as he gazed into Dark’s glittering, rusty orbs; Anti’s sympathy soon dissipated however, in favour of a demeanour of boyish deviance.

'Huh…..well if you can’t take it there, then I can’t wait to see what happens when I dooooo…..THIS!’

Dark screamed. No joke. It all happened so fast, in a mere blink of an eye. Anti had descended and had forcefully brushed and nuzzled all over Dark’s ribs…..aka the man’s kill spot; oh…..poor, poor Dark.

'AHHHHHHH FAHAHAHACK NAHAHAHAHAAAAA AHAHANTIHIHIHI!!!’

Anti cackled as he growled, letting his scruffy facial hair scratch over Dark’s bottom-most ribs; the glitched man relished in Dark’s hysteria as he kept up the torture. The fact that Dark was just so unbearably ticklish…….just made Anti’s year.

'Awwwww tickle tickle tickle! Can’t you take it baby?’

Dark wailed with a deep blush writhing about as he threw his head back in his wild, unbridled mirth. Honestly, no he most certainly could NOT take it! Although…..that didn’t mean that Dark wasn’t loving it. Especially with Anti’s teasing words in the mix, Dark was awash with waves of ticklishness and bubbles of reckless, embarrassing abandonment. That didn’t halt his protests though.

'PLEHEHEHEHEHEEEEASE!!! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOOORE!!’

Anti hummed, grinning widely as he pulled a thoughtful expression, as if he was considering Dark’s words most seriously. This is rather hard to believe, especially since Anti had taken to nibbling just below Dark’s bottom ribs so his ears could feast on Dark’s desperate squeals.

'Mmmm, I shoooould probably relent…..’

Dark let out a gasp and shudder of relief when Anti’s scratchy, rough torment ceased and transitioned into light kisses which helped melt away the previous torment.

'Mmmhmhm…..yeheah prohobahably…..’

Dark mumbled, but then his heart faltered when he realised what he’d said; the breath got stuck in his throat as he flicked his gaze down to Anti. However…..there wasn’t any teasing mockery there, the smile was wide but it was genuine; and adoring. Purely adoring and in awe. In the space of a second, Anti’s hands had slid from Dark’s wrists, and the man himself had leant so he could kiss Dark’s lips softly, smiling all the while as Dark responded passionately with a slightly bashful grin. Dark reached up to cup Anti’s jaw as he sat up, forcing Anti back who let out a surprised giggle; Dark withdrew with a light smirk as Anti mumbled.

'Can you stop being so perfect please…..’

Dark chuckled, smirking widely at Anti who giggled again when Dark spoke in a low purr.

'Unfortunately, what you ask for is impossible.’

Anti grinned when Dark leant in to kiss him this time, but with a hint of cheekiness since he nipped Anti’s bottom lip with a chuckle; Anti shot him a playful glare as he shuffled off Dark’s legs, allowing him to sit up fully and run a hand through his hair whilst Anti then got to his feet.

'Vain bastard…..’

Anti smirked when Dark let out a loud chuckle as he too stood, straightening his shirt with a quirk of his eyebrow and a teasing air to his voice.

'Goading glitch.’

Anti froze. He immediately looked down the floor, fiddling with his t-shirt as Dark let a out a satisfied hum; it always was the case with Anti. His number one go-to method to get the torture he wanted…..give it to someone else first, so they’ll be sure to get revenge. Dark thought it was commendable, and frankly brave. Dark paced towards Anti, smiling deftly as he wrapped an arm round the man’s waist, and Anti looked up to him with a light grin. There was one more peck on the lips before they headed off. Yeah…..this past year has been a damn fucking profound one, but that does NOT mean that the next one can’t start with a bang.

———————————————————————————————————–

I have some good news, and some bad news. The good news is that it’s almost New Years Eve! There’s not long to go now before the celebrations really start, and I can say with solid assurance that there is going to be a party like no other. However, that does bring forth the bad news. We’re almost done in terms of the scenes that we’re to observe tonight. Don’t worry though…..there’s still a little bit to come. Now, you’ll require a bit of your memory for this; do you remember the area where our lovely set of Google brothers and their cranky sibling were setting up the countdown? I think you do. Well surprise, we’re back there now, but we are not to linger. Now, there is a wonderful HD TV up there, as you know, so we are going to turn our back on it and walk straight ahead; there are a pair of double doors which open out to a stunning, grey-stone balcony. It has of course been adorned with fairy lights, we can once again thank dear Oliver for that. Our attention however, should be on the man leaning and looking out across the barely visible landscape.

The man in 20’s era attire sighed, smiling weakly as he let the surprisingly warm air brush his face and hands. Mayor Damien was…..content. Don’t ask how he could be there, he just was. He existed, rather perfectly, in the world and on that balcony….and he was the happiest he’d ever been. Although, his smile wasn’t too wide; he still had his decorum. He was so serene and composed, to be honest it was the sort of scene you’d depict in an oil painting; the sort that would bring silence among a group. It was nice. However……some might say it was plain, or lacking a dash of colour. So it is rather convenient then, that a sudden presence approaching Damien from behind was certain to provide that…..much needed, splash of vibrancy. Damien let out a little gasp when he felt two arms snake around his waist, and a chin rest on his shoulder; a low voice whispered teasingly.

'Well now…..what’s a handsome gent like you doin all alone?’

Damien felt himself smiling wider as he was lightly spun, and he came face to face with a teasing, moustached fiend. Or rather, his teasing moustached fiend.

'Oh nothing…..just waiting for the right person to come along and, sweep me off my feet.’

Damien’s voice was gentle, and it made Colonel William chuckle as he pulled his dear mayor closer. His hat had been discarded a little while ago, but his conglomeration of glasses remained and framed his face, as well as his growing smirk. The Colonel’s jet black moustache wiggled as the man spoke in his gently dramatized tone of voice.

'My dear sir…..I must gladly inform you, that your wait is over.’

Damien couldn’t help but let out a giggle as The Colonel leant in and swiftly connected their lips, letting out a low hum as he ran his hands up and down Damien’s back soothingly and adoringly. Damien’s eyes had fluttered shut as he smiled into the kiss, letting one of his hands gently roam into the Colonel’s hair whilst the other remained at the small of his back. It was a beautiful moment, it really was. Despite that fact that Damien was letting out little giggles, which amused the Colonel greatly as he pulled away with a curious smile.

'Someone’s a little giggle monster, do my affections amuse you?’

Damien was trying to withhold his wide grin as he looked to the floor, and he cleared his throat as he tried to put forth his answer in the least embarrassing way possible; alas, Damien found that there was only one way to word it…..and it made him stammer rather adorably.

'I-It…..your damned moustache t-tickles…..’

The Colonel raised an eyebrow before he smiled wider, his gaze raking over Damien’s evidently flustered state; the Colonel swiftly chuckled and elected to lean in and whisper in Damien’s ear, purposely brushing his moustache over the other man’s neck.

'Is that so? Does that mean that this…..tickles?’

The Colonel’s voice had lowered into a purr as he gently brushed his facial hair, whilst Damien squeaked and hurriedly to cover his mouth as well as squirm away. He soon realised though, that with The Colonel’s arms around his waist, he had no way to escape; his words came out rather quickly, and at a much higher pitch than normal.

'W-Wihihill! Nohohot h-hehehere!’

Damien’s giggles were gentle, and the Colonel grinned as he pulled Damien tightly into his chest so he couldn’t get away. Damien was ever so embarrassed already, mainly at the concept of someone possibly seeing them, and seeing him like this; as you can imagine, the Colonel knew of this. That didn’t mean he was going to relent though, how could he possibly want to miss out on hearing his darling’s sweet giggles? So he decided to move his nuzzling to the shell of Damien’ ear.

'Not on your neck? Very well…..how about on your cute little ears, hm?’

Damien let out a loud squeal as he pushed at the Colonel’s chest, gasping as he tried to shake his head; the man was just awash with sensitive spots, and they both knew it. Not only that, but the Colonel’s chuckling sent many a chill down Damien’s spine as he whined.

'Dohohohon’t doho thihihis toho meheheheeee!’

Damien’s smile was impossibly wide by this point, courtesy of the rapid tingles and bolts shooting through his system as provided by the dear Colonel. Said man pulled away briefly, eyes shining with glee as he gazed upon he flustered man in his arms; goodness, he really was a handsome devil. The Colonel smirked as Damien looked up at him nervously, and the former leant in so he could whisper.

'Oh but my dear Damien….how could I possibly resist?’

Damien’s eyes widened as he suddenly felt the Colonel’s hands sneakily go to scratch and knead his sides, almost making him double over as he spluttered and cackled.

'OHOHOHOHO GOHOHOHOD NOHOHOHOHOOOO!!’

Damien twisted and writhed, but he couldn’t escape the mischievous Colonel who still held him to his chest, whilst managing to reach under his tailored jacket and shirt so he could scratch Damien’s bare sides. The Colonel was relishing in Damien’s reactions, but as he looked at him he couldn’t help but feel that his cheeks were missing a little something.

'Coochie coochie coooo! You are quite the ticklish one aren’t you my dear?’

And there it was, a stunning rose flush blossomed on Damien’s cheeks as he hurried to cover his face; that damned teasing was just uncalled for! The Colonel was just elated, any opportunity to see his dear Damien finally let loose was a moment to be revered.

'TAHAHAHAKE AHA WIHIHILD GUEHEHEHEHESS!!’

The Colonel snickered, and his voice came out in a light purr as one of his hands decide to attack Damien’s tummy; which was infinitely more sensitive.

'Quite sassy too, perhaps you should reign in that little attitude of yours…..’

Damien was very nearly breathless as he laughter spewed from him, because alas his poor tummy was his kryptonite; and the Colonel knew how to render him defeated in a heartbeat. The Colonel’s fingertips roughly scratched the pudge they found, but were delicate over his waistline and round his navel; when they circled that little area, Damien was a squeaking and snorting mess. At the Colonel’s words, his blush darkened to a crimson as he hurriedly looked away fro im…..and yet; there was a spark. A spark of defiance.

'OHOHOHOHR WHAHAHAHAHAT?!’

The Colonel was heavily taken aback, and yet rather proud. He let his smirk dim into a light smile as he suddenly withdrew his devious fingers, making Damien gasp and breath deeply in surprise; the man’s stomach was bubbling with anticipation…..oh lord what had he done? Damien nibbled his lip nervously as he suddenly felt the Colonel’s hand cup his jaw, and tilt his face up so they were looking at one another. Damien’s gaze was fixed on the Colonel as he whispered.

'Or…..I shall be forced to discipline you!’

Damien’s heart almost leapt out of his chest, the Colonel just moved so quickly. The Colonel had leant forward to kiss Damien passionately, not only to catch him off guard but also because those lips were so damn inviting; he couldn’t help himself. Whilst Damien was caught up however, the Colonel suddenly knocked Damien off his feet so that he could hold him in a bridal position; this made Damien squeal and ramble rather frantically.

'OH MY GOHOD WILL P-PUHUT ME DOWN!’

The Colonel chuckled, smirking deftly when Damien’s arms hurried to wrap round his neck as he tensed; god he was just too cute and too delicate for his own good. The Colonel looked down at him, feeling immensely satisfied at the sight of the nerves flickering in Damien’s eyes; he spoke in a gruff voice, almost bordering a growl which made Damien shiver and gulp.

'You don’t get to give orders here…..and now, it’s time for your punishment…..’

Damien was ever so jittery, since his mind was whirring away and trying to think of what the Colonel could possibly intend; however, the Colonel’s trait of impatience meant that Damien didn’t wait for long. The Colonel leant down and immediately buried his face under Damien’s crumpled shirt, which already got him giggling frantically; but then…..he screamed.

'AAHHHHHHHH NAHAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAT THEHEHEHEEEERE!!!’

The Colonel smirked as he roughly nuzzled and nibbled the rim of Damien’s navel, his moustache rubbing and tickling as he growled and made some rather goofy eating noises.

'Mmmm what a taaaaasty maaaaayor…..nomnomnomnooommm…..’

Damien shrieked as he tried to thrash, but he could barely even wriggle in the Colonel’s arms; and he couldn’t risk fighting back in case he made the Colonel let go of him! At least, that’s what Damien told himself.

'NAHAHAHAHAHA DOHOHOHON’T EHEHEHEEAT MEHEHEHEEEE!!!’

The Colonel had to hold back a stream of chuckling at Damien’s words, dear god it should be illegal to be this adorable. Damien meanwhile was screeching desperately as he heard the Colonel hum into his belly. 

'Perhaps I shall relent……if you say sorry for being such a sassy lassy!’

Lets just say…..Damien’s words shot out faster than a .220 Swift bullet. The Colonel was proud.

'IHI’M SORRY I’M SAHAHARRY PLEHEHEEEEASE!!!’

The Colonel smirked, letting out a light giggle as he stilled his torturous movements; he glanced at Damien who had wide eyes as his chest rose and fell slowly. They were silent for a few moments, but eventually Damien straightened up a little and cleared his throat; well, that was certainly an experience.

’…..y-you shouldn’t behe allowed t-to be so good ahat that…..’

The Colonel raised an eyebrow as he let out a light laugh, which made Damien avert his gaze bashfully; the Colonel decided to administer a final little peck to Damien’s belly button before he muttered lowly.

'You know me Damien, I live to exceed expectations…..’

Damien giggled lightly as he felt the Colonel lower him back to his feet, he wobbled for a second before he hurriedly fixed his shirt and jacket; he was still blushing wildly, which the Colonel was most happy about. The Colonel watched Damien fix himself up; it was true that the Colonel liked it when his decorum  was gone and he was a flushed mess…..but he couldn’t deny how damn fine he looked when he was smart. Damien was a fine figure, in more ways than one. Said gent looked up, and smiled a little embarrassedly when he saw the Colonel looking; he mumbled gently.

'You always do my dear…..’

The Colonel smiled, with a hint of bashfulness of his own as Damien leant forward and pecked him on the lips; the Colonel swiftly grinned and offered Damien his arm.

'Shall we Damien?’

Said man giggled lightly, and didn’t hesitate to curl his arm around the Colonel’s; he held the man’s forearm as he whispered.

'We shall, William.’

With that they stepped forward and through…..joining the rest. I would go into a profound explanation, but I think that movement presents enough by itself…..don’t you?

———————————————————————————————————–

Everyone is here, all together. Twenty six unique, vibrant beings all here in common cause; to celebrate, to have fun, and to holler to the skies ’'Bring it on 2018!”. It’s stunning, it really is.. There was no single person counting down, and that was because no-one is more important or influential than the other; and that is the honest truth. Everyone’s eyes flicked between one another and the digital projected clock. 5 seconds.

4 seconds.

3 seconds.

2 seconds.

1 second.

Then it came. A raucous cheer, a chorus of voices crying out to the world; Happy New Year. Yes, people may say it a lot in the build up, but when it comes to the actual moment it is said so much louder, and heard by so many more people. That’s because when you say it, when you really say it…..you mean it. You want everyone to have a happy forthcoming year, because it’s what everyone deserves.

We cannot forget though, that after the compulsory cheer we have our kisses; these traditions are rather more wonderful when you find yourself writing about them. The magician and the hero. The two feathered forms from heaven. The good doctor and the man of talents. The man of endless sight and the man of healing. The vibrant fiend and the tranquil nurturer. The haphazard and the suave, in perfect equilibrium. Then there’s the leader and his armed protector.

Such sweet scenes of affection are certainly something to behold, but let us not forget the others.The Google brothers and their rusted sibling wrapped in each others’ arms; a standing array of colour, with intangible bonds a’ plenty. Then there’s the rest, who can make up the perfect microcosm. Walter, arms wide and homely for the one of passion, the man who speaks in hands, the most precious reflection of the undead, the twins of drama and the browser who’s honestly more buff than buffering. No-one here is alone, you can count on that.

Now, despite our great gathering there may yet be a few others scattered elsewhere; you needn’t worry though, because they are no less happy. There’s a man, finally content with his son. There’s a shining hero…..who finally got the woman he deserved.. There’s a king, safe and nestled with his kingdom. A simple toymaker, safe and happy with his creations. A hunter, embraced by our world’s nature. Now I’m sure there’s more, but even if I am unable to credit their existence; remember, they’re safe and happy. How can I be certain? It’s New Year’s Eve, I like to think sadness takes a break. As will I.

Before they go off and rage on caffeine and un-needed food, I just want to say thank you. Thank you. To everyone. Because everyone deserves to be thanked, for one reason or another. So I think all that’s left to say is…..2018, give us what you’ve got.

The End.

———————————————————————————————————–

I really hope you guys like this and I REALLY REALLY REALLY want to know what you all think of it! love yous xx

[highqualitydolans]

Cannibal {03}

Part Three

Read Part Two

Word Count: 4,300+ Warnings: Mature content and language (14+). Graphic content.

Tiny trickles of sunlight are settling upon camp as dawn approaches.  Blaine is still in bed, thankfully having never gotten up again last night after Ethan and the other Scabs showed up.  Trevor said he would clean up and go to Blaine’s cabin, allowing us enough time to stitch up the Scabs and send them on their way, although I’m not sure how that’s going to go.  

I’m still at the pool, watching the orange glow rise above the waters.  That’s what’s nice about this camp, you can see the sunrise clearly from any place.  Mine and Alexis’s cabin is the best, and she’s probably sitting on the porch right now, Gone With the Wind in her hand, basking in the morning sunlight with a small smile.  She reminds me a lot of Ponyboy Curtis, only female and less socially awkward.

Once I decide I’ve spent enough time with my toes submerged in the water, I stand up, grabbing my shoes, and head towards the front gate.  Liza and Gabbie are both there this morning, and so is Grayson, to my disdain.

“Are you trying to get kicked out?” I ask when he looks at me.  He doesn’t say anything in response, just looks at Liza as if he’s not sure what to say.  He probably isn’t.

“I told Trevor to signal us when Blaine’s up.  None of the camp will be awake for hours, anyways, so I figured why not put him to use?” Liza says.

“What about the other two?”

“Ethan lost a lot of blood.  He’s still in the infirmary,” Liza answers, looking at Grayson.

“And Aaron’s still unconscious, too,” he tells me.  At least short and lanky has a name now.

“What about you?” I ask, eyeing him.  He doesn’t look too battered, and I’m wondering if that’s because he’s good at avoiding getting hurt or maybe the Traitors chose not to hurt him in particular.  If the latter is true, he can’t be trusted.

He doesn’t answer, just turns around and lifts his shirt.  His back is covered in bandages, including one that’s wrapped completely around his torso.  There’s splotches of blood on each bandage.

“Burns and cuts,” he says, answering my unasked question.  “Traitor tossed me into a burn pit.  I’ll manage though.”  He lowers his shirt back down.  “Ethan got the brunt of it.”

“How is he?” I hear myself asking.  Nothing prompted the question, I’m not even sure why I care.  The words just came out, I didn’t even think about them.  Can’t take them back now.  Luckily, Grayson doesn’t seem fazed by the question.

“I was in the infirmary a half hour ago to change my bandages.  He was sleeping when I was in there,” he answers with a shrug.

“Blaine alert,” Gabbie warns calmly.  Grayson nods at her, then looks at me again before stalking off to David’s cabin, like he’s already done this before.  And maybe he has.

“David will stay at my cabin until we find a permanent place for them,” Liza says quietly.

“Permanent?” I ask her.

“Y/N-”

“Jesus, you look like shit,” Blaine’s voice says, a few feet away.  He’s talking to me.

“Good morning to you, too.”

“You look like you got seven minutes of sleep.  You alright?” he asks, eyeing me closely.  Ha, seven minutes off.  Try zero.

“Just don’t feel well,” I say with a shrug.  

“Why don’t you go to the infirmary, rest up a bit, yeah?” he tells me with a pat on the shoulder.  “You better?” he asks Liza.

“Turns out I just started my period,” she answers with a shrug.

Blaine grimaces at the mention of her lady bits leaking blood and turns to me, sternly pointing in the direction of the infirmary.

I restrain from rolling my eyes and pad my bare feet toward the building, sneaking a glance at David’s cabin, wondering if Grayson was actually okay to hide out in there.  Any of them, for that matter.  The safest cabin they’d be in would be mine and Alexis’s considering it’s on the edge of the camp and Blaine only ever goes as far as Trevor’s cabin.  It would make sense to let them sleep there.

Jesus, who am I kidding, not five hours ago, I wanted to kill these guys.  Why am I so lenient about them all of a sudden?

I walk up the steps of the infirmary and open the door to reveal Bre, our best nurse and only solace, looking through some papers.

“Hey,” I say, snapping her out of her focused state.

“Hey, Y/N.  Need something?” she says, looking back down at her papers.

“How are they?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

“Aaron should wake up at any moment and Ethan lost too much blood.  Trying to find someone compatible,” she answers without hesitation, motioning to the papers.  She’s always been able to remain calm in drastic situations.  That’s what makes her a great nurse.  “Bleeding is stopped for now, but we wait to long, he won’t ever wake up.”

“What’s his type?”

“O negative.  He can only receive from another O negative and most everyone here is A positive.”

I sigh, knowing I might hate myself for what I’m about to say.

“I’m O negative,” I tell her quietly.

She nods her head as she holds up a piece of paper, mine I’m assuming.  “Yes you are.”  She looks at me pointedly.

“How much does he need?” I ask, setting down my shoes and walking towards her.  She pats on a chair for me to sit on before heading to a cabinet and pulling out gloves, a needle, a tourniquet, and IV bag, and rubbing alcohol.

“I think a pint should do it.  If he needs more later on, you can replenish and donate again.”  She puts her supplies on the table next to us.

I watch her apply the tourniquet to my arm, examining my veins for the best one to stick.

“What happened to Aaron?” I ask as she cleanses my arm with the alcohol.

“He was hit over the head pretty hard.  Definitely has a concussion and his wrist is broken beyond repair.”  Bre prepares the needle and attaches it to the empty IV bag, placing it on the ground.  “When he wakes up, he will most likely have forgotten what happened.”

I flinch slightly when she sticks me, but once it’s in and the blood is running through the rubber tube, I’m okay.

“Ethan?”

“Had to remove a bullet from his arm,” she starts, shaking her head and adjusting her glasses.  “I didn’t have all the proper equipment or sedatives, so the brave boy let me remove it while he was conscious.  But once it was out and I was about to stitch him up, he went out cold.  Crazy kid.  He’ll be alright, though, when he gets some more blood back in him.”

I nod, trying to listen, but as I watch my blood flow out of me, I can feel my head become lighter.

“Don’t you go passing out on me.  Just a little bit more,” Bre says, patting my cheek gently.  I probably should have told her I haven’t eaten since dinner last night and I didn’t sleep at all since yesterday morning.  

A minute or so later, she takes the needle out of my arm, bandaging it up.  I’m about to stand before she slumps me back down into the chair.

“Sit.  You need to replenish,” she says, walking to a cupboard and taking out an expired bag of cheez-its.  Then she saunters to the fridge and pulls out a grape gatorade.  Not my favorite flavor, but it’s not exactly something I have the strength to argue about.

I gingerly eat the cheez-its as I watch her move around the room.  She’s swift and cool and focused at all times.  I always am tempted to ask her to join Trevor and I on runs, see what she’s made of outside the camp, but Blaine never allows it.  

Bre opens the door on the far corner of the room, stepping through it with my blood in her hand.  I feel useless sitting here, but my head is light and my toes are numb.  If I try to stand, I’ll probably just fall over, even more useless.

Luckily, I’m not alone for long since the front door I came in through a few minutes ago opens.  But as soon as I realize who it is, my relief washes away.  Blaine cuts the room, his eyes darting all over the place, in search of something.  My body instantly heats up with nervousness and I’m worried he already knows about the two unconscious boys in the rooms beyond us.

“Feeling better yet?” he asks, continuing his search.  He doesn’t look at me, thank god.  He begins rifling through Bre’s papers, not bothering to glance over the contents.

I open my mouth to respond, but my throat hitches.  What is he looking for?  

As if he can read my mind, he responds to my unspoken question.  “Where the hell did I put that key?”

“Key?” I ask suddenly.  He doesn’t seem to know about Ethan and Aaron.

“The key to the beemer isn’t with the rest at the gate.  I know I brought it in here a few nights ago.  I must’ve dropped it.”  

He continues to look under papers and folders, moving them to the side, creating a mess in his wake.  He’s slowly making his way to the door in the corner, where Ethan and Aaron are behind.  Shit.

“Did you check your cabin?” I ask, trying to steer him away.

“That’s the first place I checked,” he responds, as if that was obvious.  He finally looks at me, eyeing my arm and the cheez-its and gatorade.  “Bre stick you?”

“Yeah, just a vitals check,” I say quickly, the lie gliding off my tongue.  

He nods, pretending to know exactly what that means before turning back to the door, reaching for the knob.  Before I have a chance to scream out, the door opens, Bre yelping in surprise at the sight of Blaine.

“Oh!”  She’s quick to come through, closing the door shut behind her.  “D-do you need something?”

I internally cringe at her obviousness.  Usually she is so calm, but when there are two - potential - fugitives behind the door that she just so happens to be saving, she buckles a bit, nervousness taking her over.

“I think I left the beemer key in here the other night and I-”

“Yes,” she says quickly, shaking hands rummaging through her pocket.  “I saw it on the floor and picked it up and I put it in my pocket so I wouldn’t lose it or forget where it was, because you know how I can get sometimes-”

Her words are hurried and her sentence runs on, just making her fumbling more obvious.  I can only hope Blaine doesn’t catch on.  

“-just such a clumsy mess, you know.”  She produces a key from her lab coat pocket, shoving it to Blaine before turning him around and pushing him towards the door.  “Y/N might have an infection, You don’t want to be in here to catch it, sir.  Be on your way now.”  Blaine turns to say something, but she slams the door in his face, leaning against it and panting.  “That was close.”

I run a hand over my face, rolling my eyes.  “You’re nuts.”

“He’s the only thing I’m afraid of in this world,” she admits aloud before walking back over to me.

“I don’t get why.  Blaine is the most harmless person I know,” I tell her, uncapping my gatorade and taking a swig.

“It’s his eyes.  It’s what he’s seen, what he’s been through.  When he looks at me, I feel like he’s looking straight through me,” Bre says with the shake of her head.  With a sigh, she plops down on her seat at the only desk in the room.  “He’s seen more heartbreak than anyone in this world.  I can’t imagine the kind of pain and anger he’s holding back, and I’m just scared for the day it all comes pouring out.  His eyes are scarier than any flesh eating cannibal I ever may come across.”  She busies herself, moving her hands to restack the papers Blaine threw around moments ago.

I know enough about Blaine to know that he has a kind heart and a good soul.  I’ve heard the rumors, every tale of how his family died, including a husband, a sister, and son.  I don’t know what of it is true, I’ve never seen pictures of a child in the arms of Blaine and I’ve never seen pictures of gray feminine irises, ones to match Blaine’s.  If he had a sister, a husband, a son at any point in his life, I don’t know.  He’s a reserved man, not for the sake of himself, but for others.  I’ve seen him worried about Trevor, about Gabbie and Liza, and even myself.  Bre’s right in the fact that he has a lot of rage built behind his walls, and I can’t imagine what it would be like if he spilled all his secrets.  He’d probably throw a tantrum, breaking everything in his path.  One time David got really hurt on a run, he was knocked out for days.  Liza cried, but Blaine?  He punched three holes in his cabin wall, breaking his knuckle.  He was furious, at David for getting hurt and at himself for letting it happen.

Suddenly, a cannibal chasing me to my grave seems a lot less scary than Blaine.  Now I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look into his eyes again.

A bell rings and Bre jolts up, heading to the door that conceals the Scabs once again.  Aaron must be up.  Maybe Ethan, but considering the amount of blood was just taken to him, I highly doubt it.

Restless, I stand from my chair, my legs thankfully not failing me.  I make my way to Bre’s desk and look at my paper, the one that matches that of all the occupants of Lakewood.  It lists all our defining factors - things like our birth date, weight upon arrival, allergies, blood type, appearance.  That sort of stuff.  We come to Bre for physicals every month, so Alexis and I have only visited twice since we got here.

My paper says everything I expect it to, listing my changing weight (I’m slowly losing weight - probably due to my workout routine and inevitable canned food diet), my birthday, my hair color.  It’s weird to see myself written down on a piece of paper.

Right below mine is Ethan’s.  Birth date: December 16, 1999.  No Known Allergies.  Blood Type O Negative.  Black hair.  Hazel eyes.

His eyes.

I remember them pretty vividly from the sanctuary.  They were testing, dark, and for a moment, sympathetic.

They were beautiful.

I sigh, shaking my thoughts and look over the other two papers, reading about Grayson and Aaron before Bre steps back into the room.

“He is absolutely nuts,” she mutters to herself.  I look at her with an amused smile.  “He wants to go back to his sanctuary.  Keeps mumbling about important discoveries and research.  He must’ve really hit his head, crazy kid.”

“Maybe we should take them back,” I say with a shrug, continuing to read about Aaron’s appearance.  “If that’s what they want.”  If they want to go back, by all means.  We can’t risk keeping them here anyways.

“He just wants his things, he doesn’t want to go back.  That’s personal information, Y/N,” Bre tells me, reaching for the papers in my hand.  I decide not to protest and hand them back to her without a second thought.

“I was just curious who we’re up against.”

“Hun, we aren’t up against them.”  She sighs and begins to file away papers, cleaning up the mess she and Blaine had made.

“So you trust them?  Bre, they held us captive.  He swung an axe at Liza’s head.  They took Alexis hostage.”

“They’ve completely surrendered to us, Y/N.”

This makes me stop.  Why would they raise the white flag when they had the upper hand?  

“The Traitors are who we’re up against,” she continues.  “And having those three here will help us.  They know the Traitors personally, they know them, Y/N. That’s who we have to worry about.”

She has a point.  If the real threat is the Traitors, a group of guys we know nothing about, then we’re done for.  Sure, we have a few weapons, we probably have more than enough people.  But we’re not trained to fight, not against humans, anyways.  And with three guys who knows how the Traitors’ brains work, then maybe we would have a chance.

But something is still nagging at me.

“Why did only the three of them come back?” I ask.  “Why weren’t there more?  If the Scabs were bombarded like they were, wouldn’t there be more of them here right now?”

“You think Ethan is protecting some Traitors,” she replies, nodding her head, still focusing on cleaning up the messy room.

“Think about it, Bre, there were at least fifteen of them when we were there.  The only way it makes sense that only three of them made it out is if-”

“The rest of them were killed.”

The male voice startles me.  Bre looks up from her work with a slight scowl.  

“You will be dead, too, if you don’t stay in bed,” she says to Ethan, trotting over to him.  She gently helps him to the seat I was in when she was taking my blood.

“Blaine is gone.  All clear,” Gabbie’s voice came in through static from the talkie on Bre’s desk.

“I hate feeling useless.  I couldn’t just hang out in there,” he says through pants.  “Plus Aaron’s giving me a headache.”

“I’ll give you something for that, but you need to rest.  I just replenished your blood,” Bre replies, making sure his bandages are all secure, then gapes at his arm.  “Did you take out the IV drip yourself?  God, you Scabs are giving me a headache, too,” she breathes, heading through the door he came from.

I don’t say anything, just stare at my twiddling thumbs.  I don’t trust him.  I can’t.

The only sound in the room is Ethan’s long, panting breaths.  I can feel his eyes on me, so I don’t dare look at him.

“That your gatorade?” he asks.  I don’t respond, just tilt my head a bit.  “Mind if I have some?  Kind of just about died from blood loss, so…”

Restraining from rolling my eyes, I snatch up bottle and hand it to him.  I finally meet his eyes, but they’re looking at my bandaged arm.  Reflexively, I cover it up.

He takes four large gulps of the purple liquid, downing the rest of it in seconds. Once he finishes, he caps the bottle.  “You donated to me?” he asks, jutting his chin towards my arm.

“I was the only match,” I respond with a shrug.

“Thank you.”

We fall silent again, the tension in the room thick enough to slice through.  Once again, I feel his eyes on me, and I instinctively shrink under his stare.  He breathes a single chuckle, noticing.

“Alexis saved us, you know.”

I look up at him again, this time, his hazel eyes - stunning as I remember - meet mine.  My head starts to feel light again, but I can tell it’s not from blood loss this time.

“We saved her, she saved us in return,” he says.  “We knew she didn’t trust us. But she was sparing our lives.  That’s why we surrendered.”

I continue my silence.  If I had something to say to him, I would.  But nothing is coming to mind, so I keep my mouth shut.

“They’re all dead.  All of them,” he mutters.  His eyes are glossy, and I can tell he’s hurt.  “The Traitors are out there.  They might not know the three of us are alive, but they know you were all there last night.”

“What?”

Bre chooses now to barge back in, a full first aid kit - more like briefcase - in her hand.  “You don’t want to be trapped in here, fine, but we can’t take you off the IV yet.  You continue to be stubborn, though, and I’m going to have to constrain you.  Y/N, grab a pen and paper.  I’m going to teach you how insert and IV drip.”

An hour later, Ethan is hooked up to an IV in David’s cabin and I’m sitting on my own front porch, mindlessly looking over the notes I took to take care of him. Bre would do it herself, but Blaine would definitely get suspicious if he knew she was going back and forth from the lab to David’s cabin while David wasn’t even there or hurt for that matter.

My eyes dart over the notes, but I’m not actually reading them.  My mind is reeling about the Traitors and what Ethan said.  He thinks Lakewood is their next move.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he had said as I inserted the IV.  “But I’m sure they’re watching.”

“They’re watch long enough to learn any of your routines,” Grayson pointed out.  “As soon as they’re sure they can do it, they’ll take over.”

“We have to stay one step ahead of them,” Ethan replied with a nod.

“Bre said that Aaron was freaking out about his stuff back at your sanctuary,” I said,  “something about research and discovering?”

Grayson looked at Ethan, his eyebrow twitching.  “We might go back and see what we can scavenge.”

“Jack knew about that shit, too, Gray.  There’s no telling what he already stole,” Ethan responded.

“Discoveries about a cure,” I said to them.  I remember seeing the word scribbled across the paperwork in the cabin I had been in before Ethan took me.

The cabin he’d been watching me in.

“Discoveries might not be the right word.  He was still in the research process.”

“But he was finding a cure?” I asked.

“Trying to,” Ethan replied.  “Trying the key word here.  But he’s been unsuccessful too many times.”

An image of jar with a greenish hand inside of it popped into my mind, a label reading ‘025H’ on it.  “Twenty five times to be exact,” I said.

“He wasn’t done with that test,” Grayson quickly spoke.  

“Grayson’s right,” I told Ethan, surprising even myself.  “We should go back and see if there’s anything left of Aaron’s research.  If he thinks he can find a cure then we should-”

“No,” Ethan all but shouted, making Grayson and I both jump.  “It is way too risky.  The Traitors could be watching the perimeter of this camp as we speak and as long as I am confined in this cabin, neither you or Aaron are leaving the gate,” he said sternly to Grayson.  Then his eyes trailed to me.  “And I would prefer if you didn’t either.”

That conversation seems ages away even though it happened less than an hour ago.  The Traitors probably watch Blaine leave this morning if Ethan is right.

“Did you ever eat breakfast?” Alexis says, coming up behind me.  I remember the stale cheez its and gross gatorade.

“Yes,” I tell her, convincing myself it was technically the truth.  “I hope you did.”

“Of course I did.  I eat seven meals a day, you know this,” she jokes, sitting down next to me.  Her eyes scan over the notes in my hands.  “I think David’s cabin is a bit too close to the front gate to keep them there.”

“Well Trevor’s is too close to Blaine’s and Andrew’s and Emmett’s cabin is too close to the kid’s quarters.  That leaves David’s or Gabbie’s and I don’t think she’s okay rooming with a couple strangers.”

“Ours,” she says, looking at me expectantly.

I narrow my eyes at her.  “No.”

“We can move in with Gabbie,” she continues, tilting her head.  I just look at her for a couple moments, wanting to shake my head.

“I’m not giving up this cabin.”  Yes, I’m being stubborn, but sometimes, a girl has got to be selfish.  This cabin has a beautiful view of the lake and it’s the only thing that reminds me that despite how fucked up this world is, there is still some beauty in it.  I can’t let that go.

“You don’t have to.  Gabbie and I can move into David's cabin, Grayson and Aaron can move into Gabbie’s and then Ethan-”

“Absolutely not.”  Is she actually crazy?  “I am not bunking with Ethan.”

She presses her lips together, fighting a smile.  “Gabbie, Grayson and I already discussed all this.  He said Ethan would most likely want to room with you.”

I fight the urge to gag and stand up, frustration taking over.  “Why?  So he can constantly drive me nuts?  No way.”

“Drive you what?” she asks, looking up at me with a grin.

“Don’t.”

“You only say ‘drive you nuts’ about the people you like.  If you didn’t like him, you would have said ‘crazy’ or ‘insane’,” she points out, standing up to face me.  “So what is it?  His biceps?  His eyes?”  Her eyebrows raised themselves suggestively.  “His incredibly chiseled jawline?”

“How about none of the above?”

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay, now you can hump each other in the privacy of your own cabin!”

“I am not bunking with Ethan,” I say sternly, ignoring her derogatory remark.

Her smile was mischievous, the only smile I’ve grown weary of when Alexis wears it.  “It’s a bit too late for that.”  Then she’s looking behind me.

I turn, seeing exactly what I was hoping I wouldn’t.  Grayson and Ethan are walking towards us, led by Gabbie, Ethan’s arms around their shoulders to be held upright.  Grayson has the first aid kit in his other hand and Andrew is walking behind them carrying the IV equipment and with a snarl on his face.  At least someone is as displeased as I am to be helping them out.

Ethan smirks as they approach.  “Hey roomie.”

Writing Masterlist Cannibal Masterlist

[bellatrix-whoisleft]

dust and devils || july 1977

Back rooms in exclusive clubs where it would not be suspicious to find any of them. That was where the majority of Bellatrix’s assignments had been received. Not yet important or trusted enough to be brought into the fold, she was relegated to these venues. The numerous side rooms and back entrances might make it ideal for ensuring no one was seen coming or going together that might raise questions, but she longed for more than these quick briefings. New recruits and those who would likely never rise beyond the outskirts; that’s who was brought here for information. She hated being associated with the latter group in any capacity.

Tired of the system as she might be, Bellatrix always came without complaint. She would take anything she could get her hands on and use it to excel. Partnered off and reminded her time would come as she went out for another bout of training with someone who had truly nothing to teach her beyond whatever details she could negotiate out of them that she wasn’t supposed to know. Some were more stubborn than others, but she knew it would prove valuable. She would do whatever it took to get there.

It was in her standard dark cloak that she entered one such place now. In theory, it didn’t raise suspicion. For the men involved, it was the perfect system. She wished to slip in as unnoticed as possible, waving off the offer to take the layer from her and entering the outer room of high backed lounge chairs and the smell of cigar smoke. From one of them came a comment about how she should get comfortable, stay a while. One of the Pureblood elite social clubs that didn’t see many women. A space for husbands to escape to where they could smoke their pipes and sip scotch and allegedly make some of the greatest business and political deals of their time.

That didn’t keep her from stopping for a moment, turning back to fix him with a cold, withering look. He immediately shrunk under it—she knew her presence She knew how to project it even when faced with strangers. If she had more time, perhaps more would have come, but as it was, she wasn’t quite as early as she preferred to be for these and had to be on her way. He was hardly worth her time, forgotten about the second she set back upon her path.

The stairs were tucked in the back, almost invisible in the low light casting shadows on dark wood. If she hadn’t been looking, she could have missed them. There was every chance there was magic involved to ensure that. Interesting.

Her hand hovered over her wand as she made her way up; she knew better than to have it drawn. More than likely, it was her field senses—paranoia?—catching up with her. Nothing to worry about. No need to be on edge.

She was met by another sign too quickly, a man clearly standing guard at the top of the flight. It happened for particularly sensitive missions or when enough of them were summoned that an outsider might try to follow. Coupled with the disillusionment charm, it pushed her to think precautions but still far more than usual, particularly inside the building. These places were chosen with their compulsory discretion in mind.

When she met eyes with the guard, he nodded, clearly recognizing her and indicating one of the doors down the hall. A few steps in, movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She looked back just in time to see the stairs disappear behind a brick wall. She suspected the bottom now looked similar, completely invisible to the naked eye and designed to hide something. It seemed to be her luxury to find out what.

She had about ten steps to make her assessment. This all seemed so curated; she couldn’t afford to delay. There had been times she’d been beat to such meetings, but she was never last. For that matter, she was considerably early now, yet it seemed like no one else was expected.

Was it set up for her? She was out of time. That answer would have to come on the other side of the door.

Bellatrix slowly turned the handle with her left hand, right wrapped firmly around her wand. Not drawn, not yet, but it could be in a second if she needed it.

The hair on her arms prickled at the tangible shift in atmosphere as she entered. She knew it well, the peculiar bite of dark magic. It didn’t spook her; she could feel the raw power of it as cleanly as if she performed it herself. It had to be exceptionally powerful to get past the muddled twinge she often felt with the residual trace left by others. This was sharp. She wished to close her eyes and bask in the uninhibited strength, to see how she could harness or contribute to it, but she was not alone.

A cloaked figure stood behind the desk, head down and fingers pressed against a stack of papers. Without invitation, she didn’t dare move further into the room, and to her credit, she didn’t as much as flinch at the sound of the lock setting. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if they were being locked in, but that had to be illogical.

When he looked up, she met his eyes for all of a second before dropping her gaze. She should have known. She didn’t know how she could have given that she’d only been in his presence twice since that initial meeting and never alone, but it still felt like a shortcoming. Especially when everything she had ruled abnormal made sense in hindsight.

She should have known.

“My Lord,” Bellatrix said. Her hands fell by her side now, no longer ready for what had felt like an imminent fight. Combativeness surely wasn’t going to help her with whatever this was. “How can I be of service to you?”

“I have an assignment well suited to your abilities. Should you be up to it.” Bellatrix looked up again, recognizing the challenge in the words and neither taking offense nor backing down.

“Of course,” she answered. It came out more firmly than she felt in this moment, caught off guard by this sudden change. She had to find that balance of confident with enough submission to signify respect without weakness. She could. She knew she could, but she much preferred to know when she was walking into it.

“There is a hitwizard who has given some trouble, besting three on the fringes of our rank,” the Dark Lord said.

“How do you know it is the same person each time?” she asked, realizing she wouldn’t get anymore without it. There was no way of being certain she was asking the right questions, but feeling out the scope of their information gave her room to work off more than it instilled doubt in the intel. She hoped.

“He leaves a calling card,” he explained. Apparently, she was in the clear. “The fourth fingernail on the right hand has always been half removed. In isolated incidents, it could be written off as a brutal struggle.” She could have guessed at that, but she held her tongue. There was a time and place to push on such things, and this was not it. “He and his family live in York, traced back from a sliver of information found in a file duplicated from the office of a Spanish ambassador. Your orders were to just take them.”

“They were,” she confirmed as secure in her decision as she had been in the moment, “and the ones I presented were the originals. However, I watched that house for three nights, waiting and understanding. The goal was creating a small fission in relations as well as gaining the information, but too big of a blow would close doors to us later. Without the documents, there was every chance he wouldn’t have taken the meeting at all. I left an exactly duplicated copy that should have vanished from Ministry files after he left, leaving to either ask if he had taken them with him and risk exposing their blunder or having to go without. It did not seem like coincidence my senior partner was replaced on the last night with someone I could more easily convince to take that route. I saw a chance I had to take.”

“Clever.”

She allowed a ghost of a smile to pass over her features at the even stilted compliment. Her pride would take anything, particularly when the first explanation had not gone over nearly as well. She suspected he knew the effect it would have on her. For better or worse, she could feel out later.

“The hitwizard,” she redirected, unwilling to bask in it even a moment too long. “You want me to take care of him.”

“I want,” he said sharply, making immediately clear in her mistake in phrasing, “to find out what he knows.” Bellatrix bit the inside of her cheek, effectively steadying her nerves and holding her tongue. “If it is coincidence that these three had ties to us and it was a random selection or if he was contracted by someone who may know. We need the names of those who paid him, no matter what it takes.” He picked up the papers and walked around the desk before holding them out to her.

Bellatrix took them hesitantly, the close contact chilling her further. There was no time to linger. That was absurd. She stepped back and looked to them, quickly scanning the first page and starting to formulate her plan. His two children and wife. A mistake for anyone in such a risky line of work to have any documented ties like this. They could so easily be used against him. It was exactly what she intended on doing.

“Of course, anyone who you come into contact with will have to be disposed of.”

“Of course,” Bellatrix said. She didn’t need to pretend the implications of that statement didn’t bother her as much as they should. She was there naturally.

“You will pull together your team. Three along with yourself; those you can think of should be complacent. I expect it completed in no more than four days at which point, you will return here for further instructions. Any specifics you need should be included there. Questions?” There was a certain malice to the way he asked it that she knew what her answer would be regardless of the truth.

“No, my Lord.”

“In that case, you may go.”

She nodded once and steeled herself before saying, “Thank you.”

He gave her a dismissive wave and turned towards the desk. It was only then she realized not only had she not been asked to sit, but there were no chairs in the room. Her one lie: she had endless questions. None of which she would have the chance to ask, and she turned to the door, interrupted right as she touched the handle. It was still locked, against her.

“Bellatrix,” he said. She felt the tumblers disengage under her hand but turned back slowly to find him seemingly examining her. “I am watching.”

[genogenocrazycatman]

Stillwater - Chapter 4

Stillwater [Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.Net, Mibba]

Characters: Original Female Character, Monkey D. Luffy, Rorona Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji, Nami, Usopp, Tony Tony Chopper, Nefeltari Vivi

***

"We build as only children know to build

We made a way where there's a will

No slowing down or standing still

Innocent and reckless

"How did we get so old and never notice

How did we gain the world and lose the moment

Rise and fall, the tide surrounds us

And drowns us all"

-Hands Like Houses

***

If it seems like it’s too good to be true, it probably is, which is why despite the jovial atmosphere of the tavern we were in, I was still wary.

It seemed that Whisky Peak had a certain fondness for pirates, greeting us with cheers of celebration when we first arrived. We had barely set foot on solid ground, when we were met by the town’s mayor, who immediately offered up booze, food and smiles. I admittedly hadn’t spent much time in Paradise, immediately, starting my way back home after I had been beaten by my father, but none of the islands I had landed on before had ever been this happy to see pirates, not unless the crew in question was their protectors.

Something was up. I mean they were even fawning over Usopp, going along with his blatantly obvious lies. However, none of the possibilities that I had come up with were too much for the crew to handle, so I kept my mouth shut and plastered a smile on my face, opting to just go to the flow. As far as I could tell, nothing that we had been given had been poisonous yet, so I figured we might as well get our fill, while we could.

“You’ve been nursing that mug for a very long time. Go ahead drink up,” one of the guys sitting at the bar urged.

“Not everyone can drink like you Boyd, especially not a little girl.”

I looked further down the bar at the man, who had spoken. His tone was mocking, patronizing.

I glared at the man. I had little patience for men like him. Over grown gorillas, who liked to pick on those that they perceived to be weaker than them.

“I’m not some little girl,” I snipped.

I was so far from it.

“Uh-oh. You’ve pissed her off,” the original guy, Boyd, said chuckling.

“How old are you?” the second guy asked. “Fifteen? Sixteen? Are you even allowed to drink?”

I cursed my appearance. Usually it worked in my favor. I was plain, which allowed me to blend in, and unassuming, which kept people from seeing me as a threat, but it was a double edged sword. It made people think I was weak and naive.

“I’m nine-h-“ I stopped.

‘Fuck.’

Years at home had spoiled me. I was free to be myself in the safety of my friends and family. I didn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances and false pretenses. For short periods of time, it was fine, but extended periods like this were proving to be exhausting.

“-teen,” I grumbled the latter half of the number.

The pair laughed.

“I can handle my liquor better than anybody else in this bar,” I declared.

“Oh really?” Boyd smirked.

“Really.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that the mayor is about to annoyance toast competition.”

I followed his eyes to the mayor. “We had an excellent grape harvest this year. To celebrate that harvest, our traditional toast competition!”

Everyone cheered.

“Make a toast take a drink. This continues as long as you can hold your liquor. Last one standing is the winner.”

“I’m gonna feel real bad embarrassing you boys like this. After all, you’re about to be drunk under the table by a little girl.”

“Mira, you’re competing too?” Nami asked when I walked over.

“Gotta show these two how it’s done. I thought you weren’t drinking.”

“Weren’t you paying attention? There’s money involved,” Zoro explained.

“Ah.”

“Then let’s begin!” the mayor announced, raising his mug. “To our new friends!”

We went around, people making a toast after toast downing drink after drink. We didn’t start losing people until four.

My two challengers were both in the running still. I could tell that they were feeling it. Guy number two more so than Boyd. I was perfectly fine, but had to keep appearances, so I swayed and stumbled and slurred my words.

Nami and Zoro were both holding their own pretty well too. From the looks of it, they were just getting started.

Nami toasted to money, not surprisingly, and Zoro to becoming the world’s greatest swordsman. That took out guy number two and brought the toasting to Boyd.

“To my victory,” he slurred.

I snorted, finishing off my drink and being handed another, my turn. “To the future king of the pirates,” I said, looking at Luffy, who was downing food faster than the cook could prepare it.

Twelve took out Boyd. He collapsed to the ground.

I looked down and smiled. “I’ve made my point,” I said, setting down my thirteenth, before I had to drink it. “I quit.”

“I can’t believe you’re quitting,” Nami said. “Pansy.”

“Last thing I want, is to have to listen to you bitch, cause I won the prize money.”

“You wouldn’t win,” she called, as I turned.

“That’s what you think,” I shot back.

It was down to her, Zoro and a nun. After the thirteenth mug, it was just Nami and the nun. I didn’t watch, instead, stumbling through the crowd and out the door, but I would hear, Nami’s shouts of victory, once the nun went down.

Luffy was down as well, stomach blown up the largest that I had seen. Sanji I was pretty sure was love drunk surrounded by a crowd of pretty women. If the color on Usopp’s face was anything to go by, he was pretty far gone as well.

I stumbled outside and around the side of the building until I was out of sight of the townspeople. Once I was in the clear, I dropped the drunken act, and climbed up the building until I was on the roof, where I laid and basked in the moonlight.

Eventually the party died out, and the air became still and quiet, the only sounds being that of the ocean lapping on the shore in the distance and the snores coming from the people passed out inside.

A short while after everyone passed out, the quiet was broken by the mayor. I crawled over to the edge of the building to get eyes on him.

Now I could figure up what was with him and this weird town.

Our two strays were there as well, sitting directly underneath me.

“They’ve worn themselves out partying and are fast asleep. Sweet dreams, brave adventurers. My how the cactus rocks gleam under the pale moonlight. Beautiful as ever.”

“If I may say, your poetic skills are beyond compare, Igarappoi- I mean Mr. 8.”

‘Of course,’ I thought dryly. ‘More of the dumb numbers.’

“So where are they?” Wednesday asked.

“They’re falling... Straight to hell.”

I almost wanted to laugh at how dramatic this guy was being. I mean really? Take us to hell? Between that and the gleaming rocks, this guy was starting to sound like my cousin after he had a little too much wine.

The trio was joined by the nun, who removed her habit, revealing a short pink and white checkered dress underneath.

“Damn. My head is killing me. Our guest didn’t have the good taste to pass out gracefully, so I doctored they’re drinks a little, or else they’d be up all night drinking us into oblivion.”

If that was spiked with something, then I hated to think of what they’d been drinking before. Grape juice.

“So tell me was it really necessary to put on this elaborate show for those idiots?” the nun asked. “I get that no one wants to hear me whine, but it’s my duty to point out the amount of food we’ve wasted, when we could’ve just ambushed them at the harbor.”

This was a trap. No surprise there. I was under the assumption that they were after our supplies and treasures. It wasn’t like we were rolling in gold or anything. Nami probably was, but as far as pirate crews go, we were pretty broke.

I wasn’t really sure what the bounty situation was on board. After all the fuss that had been made over Luffy in Logue Town, I figured he had one. Maybe Zoro, but I doubted the others were worth anything. If it was worth the effort that they’d put into this party farce, then Luffy had to have one hell of a bounty.  

“We’re already short on supplies. It’s not like anyone had high hopes for that whale meat or anything.”

Mr.9 puffed up defensively. “Why don’t you go try to kill that damn whale? We tried our best.”

“Both of you calm down. Before you question the validity of my plan, why don’t you take a look at this?”

The mayor, Mr.8, whatever, pulled out a wanted poster. Luffy’s smiling face was printed on the page. I checked the number below it. ‘Thirty-million, before he even made it to the Grand Line.’ That was a pretty respectable number, well worth the effort they’d put in so far.

Too bad it was all going to be for nothing.

The nun and the strays balked at the number. “THIRTY-MILLION BERRIES?!”

“For those morons?’

“Don’t be foolish. Appearances can be deceiving. That goes for-“ the mayor cleared his throat and performed a vocal exercise. “That goes for all of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s no matter. Our prey has been trapped, and that’s news the boss will enjoy.”

“That’s what you think,” I mumbled.

I hadn’t been with the crew for long, and I had only seen them in action once, but that was enough for me to know that these guys didn’t have a chance.

I wasn’t the only one, who had been playing drunk earlier. I could feel Zoro approach that cursed blade of his giving him away.

I glanced back at Zoro. “What? Can’t sleep now, because you were out all day?”

“Ha ha,” he deadpanned. “This place gave me a bad vibe.”

I nodded. “As it should. They’re going to raid the Merry and cash in on Luffy’s Bounty.”

“So what do we do with them now?” Ms. Monday asked.

I was wondering the same thing about the people below.

“I thought it was something like that. I guess I’ll take care of this, since you guys dealt with all that weather crap earlier.”

“Oh how chivalrous.”

He rolled his eyes at me.

“Kill them?” Mr.9 asked.

This time it was Zoro, who scoffed.

“If they die, the bounty drops thirty percent. The government prefers to hold public executions. Now go. I want them alive.”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. You mind letting my friends sleep? They had a long day and the journey was exhausting, so I’ve been told.”

“Hey Mr.8, Ms. Monday, one of them escaped from the room, when we weren’t looking.”

‘Well well well, if it isn’t Boyd and that other guy.’

“Ugh. He’s right over there.”

“Sneaky wretch, you should’ve stayed asleep with your friends.”

“A good swordsman never makes the mistake of letting his guard down. Plus, I took a nap earlier. Judging by the scowls and cheap disguises, you’re all bounty hunters, whose specialty is robbing drunk pirates, who fall for your hospitality. It’s original. I’ll give you that at least.

“I count a hundred of you scum bags give or take, and I’ll fight all of you. You hear me, Baroque Works?”

It was helpful having a name for the organization. We had a concrete enemy now, someone specific to fight.

Well Zoro had someone to fight.

Everyone down below freaked out.

“How do you know our name?”

“I was in a similar line of work once upon a time. Your company tried to entice me with a job offer. Naturally, I said no. Do the same rules still apply? Employee identities kept secret, cheesy code names, the boss’s identity and whereabouts also a mystery? Baroque Works, the criminal group that faithfully carries out their orders like herded sheep. That’s some secret.”

“This is a surprise. If you know all of our secrets, then we are left with no other choice than to kill you, and another gravestone will be added to the cactus rocks tonight.” The mayor guy chuckled darkly, before issuing the order to kill Zoro.

Before any of them could move, he’d moved, appearing in the midst of their ranks.

I sat up right, so I could watch the show.

“It’s her!” Boyd yelled.

“You have a lot more to worry about than a little girl,” I informed them, pointing out Zoro.

He grinned. The bounty hunters drew their weapons and fired at him, but he was too fast. Instead of hitting him, the bullets flew into their fellow Baroque Works agents.

The mayor was getting frustrated, but even more evident, he was worried. He was beginning to sweat. The muscles in his neck were tense. His eyes were wide and flicking back and forth wildly.

“Incompetent morons, they just shot each other.”

“Yeah and the pirate got away.”

‘Way to state the obvious.’

The mayor turned around to bark out another order to his minions. “Just kill him! He’s only one man.”

Zoro’s blade slid through the idiot’s hair, glinting in the man’s peripheral.

“Ask yourself. Will one grave stone really be enough?”

“There he is!” The bounty hunters aimed their weapons at Zoro and by extension Mr.8.

All semblance of calm and control was out of the widow at this point. He screamed at the men to hold their fire, to keep him from being shot. He pulled out a saxophone of all things and blew into the instrument, causing it to shoot bullets.

Zoro ducked, avoiding them, before vanishing once more.

A few flew up towards me, but I dodged them with ease.

“Your friend isn’t going to make it through this, and once we get him, we’re coming after you,” the mayor said.

“Cause that’s going real well for you right now. You don’t even know where he is.”

He shot at me once more, but I jumped out of the way to another rooftop, down through a window inside. No one as home, seeing as the whole town was hunting Zoro. They ran into the first floor, while I hopped out of a side window on the second and into the adjacent house.  I exited out of the back door of that one, putting some distance between myself and the bounty hunters, before taking to the roof tops once again.

Zoro said he had this, so I was gonna leave it to him. Now if Boyd and his friend ended up in my path, well then maybe I would join in on the fun.

I caught site of the swordsman from my newest perch. He was having himself a grand old time, slicing through the bounty hunters, knocking them off of ladders, cutting holes into the ground for them to fall into.

Ms. Monday swung a ladder at Zoro, which he barely dodged. She slid her brass knuckles onto to her fingers.

“It was a good effort, swordsman, but there is no man, who can best my strength.”

‘Why should he get to have all the fun?’

“What about a woman?” I asked, jumping from my perch. My foot nailed her elbow, the impact, causing her to release Zoro. I wrapped both legs around her neck, and threw myself back, flipping her over, so that I landed on top of her, my legs pinning down her arms. She tried to fight out from underneath me, to push me off, but despite her advantage in terms of actual size, I had more strength. I raised my fist and drove it into her face, knocking her out.

“You still a little groggy from that nap earlier or something? Letting her get the jump on you.”

Boyd and the other guy charged at me from behind. I ducked the wire that they held between them and grabbed them both by the back of the shirt. I grabbed the wire, pulling it from their grasps, slicing my hand in the process, before slamming Boyd into the other, the impact strong enough to toss them both off of the roof.

“I could’ve handled that,” he said.

“’Thank you, Mira.’ ‘Oh you’re welcome, Zoro.’”

There was something about teasing Zoro that was just so much fun. I mean he made it so easy. He left himself wide open. It was even better because he didn’t have an argument for anything that I had said so far.

“Yeah yeah, I told you I got this.”

“Alright then,” I backed off. “Go ahead. You got this.”

Zoro strode over to the edge of the building, gazing down at the Baroque Works members below.

“Is that all you can offer Baroque Works?” he asked. “Cause you’re gonna need to do a lot better than that.”

I sat on the edge of the building.

Zoro carried a cursed blade. Initially, I had thought that that was the source of the dark aura that seemed to radiate from him, and it was, to an extent, but there was something else. There was something coming from within him. It was dark and violent. It was demonic almost.

It wasn’t noticeable earlier, but now it was. That sword of his, despite having sliced through over ninety people, hadn’t been satiated yet. It was still thirsty, begging for blood, and so it seemed was Zoro.

Mr.9 explained Baroque Works’ ranking to us. I think it was supposed to intimidate us, but neither Zoro nor I were impressed.

“I’ve found that fancy titles mean nothing, when it comes to fighting. The strongest wins and that’s that.”

The mayor fired at us with that stupid saxophone of his once more. I shuffled out of the way to the side, while Zoro, jumped up a level.

Mr.9 pursued him, while Wednesday whistled, calling her duck.

I raised a brow. “That’s your trump card? A duck?”

“Are you kidding me? A duck?”

“You get distracted so easily,” Mr.9 said, standing atop a belfry. “How can you hope to follow my acrobatics?” He began back flipping down towards Zoro. “You better prepare for my bloody bats!”

Zoro easily blocked his attack with one of his swords.

“You better be careful not to chip your precious blades.”

Zoro sheathed one of his swords.

At this point, Zoro was just toying with Mr.9, forcing him to go on the defensive and backing him up to the end of the building, which he wasn’t aware of. He attempted another one of his acrobatic moves, but ended up jumping off of the building.

“Is this really the best they can do?”

“There’s better. I’m still here. Are you ready, Mr.Bushido? Now, enjoy my perfume dance.”

Wednesday lifted her arms over her head and swayed back and forth. The fragrance of her perfumes choked Zoro out and brought him to his knees.

“Good boy,” he cooed. “And now, peacock slasher! Now Carue!” she hopped on the duck, and charged at Zoro.

Her weapon was a unique one, wires with a small jewel at the end of it. I had no doubt that they were effective cutting weapons, especially at the speed she was swinging them around.

Too bad the duck wasn’t as effective. He blew right past Zoro, and straight towards me. I quickly got up and pushed off the roof, jumping onto the building across the street. They fell of the building into a pile of junk on the side of the building.

They mayor’s saxophone sounded off, a barrage of bullets aimed at Zoro. Zoro cut a hole in the roof of the building, disappearing into the building below.

Mr.9 jumped out of the pile of debris he had created upon landing. He produced a chain from his bat, using it to tie up Zoro’s arm.

“Watcha gonna do now, tough guy?”

“Kick your ass,” Zoro replied easily.

I snorted.

“Excellent work,” the mayor commended.

“Come on, Mr.8, kill him now. You won’t get away!”

“That’s right, don’t move,” Miss Wednesday said. She had a machete in hand aimed at a still engorged, still sleeping Luffy. “If you even think about doing anything foolish, Mr. Bushido. Your friend here will be paying the price.”

“You idiot. Can’t he at least wake up, when he’s being held hostage?”

Mr.9 cackled with glee.

It had been fun and games up until this point, mostly, because these guys were kind of like gnats, annoying, but essentially harmless. This was different, because Luffy was asleep, oblivious to the danger he was in.

“Foolish is taking a crew’s captain hostage,” I said, standing up.

“Ah ah ah.” She wagged her finger. “Take one step off of that building and your precious captain meets his maker.”

I stayed still. I just had to bide my time

“Well done Ms. Wednesday. It looks like there will be no escape for the swordsman this time, unless he wants his friend to die.”

Mr.8 pulled at the strings of his neck tie, exposing the gun barrels hidden in his curls. “Firing squad ready!”

“What?!” Zoro yelled, caught off guard.

He yanked the strings further, the barrels firing. “Igarappappa!”

Zoro yanked on the chain, pulling Mr.9 with it, putting him between Zoro and the bullets.

Ms.Wednesday was shocked by this, which gave me my opening. I hopped off of the building and knocked the machete from her hand, before hitting her with a kick to the mid section, that sent her flying backwards.

“Duck!” Zoro yelled. I did as he said, hitting the ground.  He threw Mr.9, using him to take out Carue, sending them both into the same crater that I had hurled, Ms. Wednesday.

Mr.8 fired again, but Zoro managed to evade it. He used Luffy as a trampoline, jumping up and slashing at Mr.8, taking him out of commission.

Luffy lifted his head, opening his eyes. “Where am I?” he asked.

I shook my head and chuckled. “Just go back to sleep.”“

“How’d I get outside?”

I didn’t have time to respond, before he was out again.

I looked up Zoro, who was sitting on the roof of the building.

“I got say I’m impressed. Your skill with your blades is amazing, especially wielding a cursed sword. That’s even more impressive.”

“You can feel it too.”  It wasn’t a question, just an observation.

I nodded anyways. “Have you had it long?” I asked.

“Only since Logue Town.”

“It must’ve been there a long time. Its thirst for blood is strong.”

“Must be why it was being so disobedient.”

I looked at the carnage around us. “It’s only a matter of time, before they send some more. We should probably get out of here.”

“Meh, let ‘em. Everyone needs the rest. If they come, then I’ll just have to cut them down.”

Zoro seemed pleased at the prospect.

I shrugged. Based on what I could tell, he was first mate. No one really used titles on the crew save for when it came to Nami and Sanji.

He took a large swig from his bottle.

“Well then, since you have everything under control here, I’m going to head back to the Merry, make sure they didn’t steal or break anything.”

“You should get some rest. You worked just as hard as the other earlier. If you push yourself too much, you’re gonna burn out.”

I nodded at him. He was right. Plus, I was more than ready to go to bed. I had gotten my fill of crappy booze, entertainment and food. Sleep sounded great.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” I said, heading towards the Merry. “Good night, Zoro.”

“Night.”

***

Notes:

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[theimaginesyouneveraskedfor]

At Your Service ~Three~

Part One ~ Part Two

*so I have a full day ahead and can’t make a promise for the next part until maybe Sunday, depending on how the weekend unfolds. Thank you for your patience.*

Thranduil had always been a sound sleeper but that night he was inconsolably  restless. He could barely close his eyes to dream for the thoughts swirling around in his head of the next day. It was a mystery which eluded him why his mind fixated on the stone-faced maid. She was not an immaculate beauty, no more or less attractive than the elvish ladies he encountered every day, but she intrigued him to his core. Perhaps it was the forbidden nature of his curiosity which aroused him so.

His eyes closed periodically though his slumber was shallow and unrewarding. Upon waking, his thoughts would return to Y/N and his heart would flutter wildly. It was only a few times that he managed to bury his head beneath the pillows and urge himself to unconsciousness before he gave up altogether. Sleep deprivation had never been much of an issue as it were.

He could sense the sky begin to slowly pale outside, dull light streaming through the glass of the balcony doors and wondered if the maid would appear on time. Were she late, he might just devise a fitting punishment. He had yet to see her squirm and the more she remained unperturbed by him, the more he longed for it. The night before, when she had tried to refuse a glass of wine, he had thought himself victorious, but she had simply deflected his challenge and left unscathed. Thranduil had never been left so disenchanted.

Before he could will himself to sit up, a knock came at the door and he called his welcome in return. He rose from beneath the silken covers and wrapped himself in a dressing robe as Y/N entered and he turned to find her setting down his breakfast upon the table. Already, she had averted any criticism he may have spoken.

Her hair was pulled tight, as always, neat and tidy, and her apron was a pure white over her pale cornflower gown. The wool was the plainest one could find but on her, it was radiant, her eyes appearing more vibrant as she focused on him unblinkingly. Thranduil tied his robe loosely, allowing the silk to hang slackly across his chest, revealing his collarbone and a peek of muscles. Hoping that his unkempt manner would gall the servant, he was sorely disheartened to receive no reaction, even as her eyes focused on him.

He sat at the table as she stood where she had the night before; patiently, silently, and he tried to plot his next move. He stabbed the bright yellow yolk of his egg, the liquid spreading across the plate as he watched it intently. He looked to Y/N, staring at the wall behind him and he wondered how any could live a life so dull. Sometimes, he dared to think of pitying the help but it only made him all the more thankful that he was king.

“Ahem,” He cleared his throat as he took a piece of bread and dipped it in the soft yolk, “Some tea.” He ordered and she moved swiftly to follow his order, “And you may fetch me my clothing for the day. The armoire…” He waved towards the rosewood furniture, “I am more than certain you can figure it out.”

“Your majesty,” She finished pouring his tea and crossed the room, the soft whisper of her skirts the only sound in the chamber.

Thranduil watched as she opened the door of the armoire and without consideration pulled forth a crimson lined robe of alabaster brocade. It was one of his favourites but she seemed little impressed; in fact, she appeared little concerned with finery at all. Next, she pulled forth a pair of fawn leggings to match, the very ones he would have chosen, and she easily found a pair of stockings in his chest of drawers and the boots neatly sorted within a small closet in the rear of the room.

“You may set them behind the screen,” He instructed and she nodded, he watched the sway of her skirts as she completed her task and returned to her former vigil, “You’re a quick learner.”

Her cheek twitched, as if tempted to respond, but she merely kept silent and watched him eat. She must have had years of practice which had taught her to steel herself against the arrogance of those she served. It only made his desire to crack her veneer even more delectable and he could have bit his lip at the thought of her dissemblance. His fascination was descending beyond his usual guile.

“Evin should have briefed you but I know he can be…short,” Thranduil began, spinning his fork between his fingers, “You are my personal servant now,” He emphasized the possessive for effect and nearly grinned as he saw the tension lift her hairline, “You will accompany me throughout my day in case I should need of anything. Wine, messengers, what have you.”

Y/N clasped her hands but showed little emotion as she listened. Was she merely taking the instruction to mind or was she fighting to conceal her discomfort? The latter was what Thranduil would prefer and so he continued on without pause, “I take my lunch in my solar and, as you will recall, my dinner in here, unless there is a feast.”

“Your majesty,” It was those words which thrilled him, reminding him that he could order her to do anything he wished. Even…

He shook away the thoughts which surprised even him. This was merely asserting his power, showing that he was the king and she was the servant. He had never appreciated defiance and though she did not openly show hers, it was obvious to him. He could feel it and it inflamed him. It had been a time since he had felt so…provoked.

“You may dispose of this,” He gulped down a mouthful of tea and set down the half-empty cup, standing as he stretched, pretending not to notice as his robe gaped across his chest, “I shall get dressed and when you return, I should be ready to depart on my daily duties.”

“Your majesty,” He watched as she gathered his scraps onto the tray, issuing a small bow before she lifted it.

Yet he noticed the subtle smile upon her lips but it was far from the one he would have liked. It was one of knowing, a crafty expression which betrayed his own ploy. In the moment their eyes met, he knew that she had seen through him and his scheme. She was calling his bluff and she turned around boldly, her skirts swirling around her as she neared the door and the king withheld a sigh. He would have to try harder.

It was the final meeting of the day and you held back a yawn as you stood in the corner of the council chamber, watching the long table of elvish nobles. Thranduil made no effort to hide his yawns and dismissed his counselors, visibly irritated by their tedious words. As the prim-faced elves left with respectful bows, the king stood and grimaced at their backs. His eyes searched the room before landing on you and the tension ebbed from his features, replaced by a hint of menace.

“Ah, I nearly forgot about you,” He drawled as his lips curved slightly, “Well, it should be time for dinner by the time we reach my chambers.”

He stared at you expectantly and you bowed your head, “Your majesty,” The words starting to taste bitter on your tongue.

You stepped past him and made for the door, the weight of his eyes upon you as you moved. That morning, he had barely looked away from you and throughout the day you had found him glancing at you now and again. You were unsure of his motives, only that he wanted you to fold, and you vowed to keep your composure. He could have you fetch his meals and his clothing, but he could not take your pride.

“Do not forget the wine,” He added as you reached the doorway, “White.”

You gave a nod, showing that you had heard him and rushed into the corridor. The kitchens would be busy and it would take you long enough as it was to have a tray set. A sojourn to the wine cellar only added to that and you knew Thranduil would relish any chance to reprimand you. Should you take longer than he wished, he would surely seize the opportunity.

The kitchens were steaming and noisy but as your tray was meant for the king, it arrived quickly. The cellar was deathly quiet in contrast and you lingered a moment to bask in the serenity of your solitude. It would almost be worth Thranduil’s ridicule to postpone longer but your sense got the better of you. Tucking a bottle under your arm, you hitched the tray upon your shoulder and set out for the royal chambers.

You knocked upon the door with your elbow, careful to keep the tray balanced and an answer came without pause. You entered, Thranduil running his fingers through his smooth tresses as he tore his gaze from beyond the open balcony doors. Outside, the sun was setting and a pale violet coloured the sky, casting whimsical shadow across the forest.

“You are always exquisitely prompt,” He commented as he neared the table where you set down the tray and bottle, removing the lid to reveal the night’s fare. It was an envious spread compared to the tripe that was served to the help, “Although, I don’t recall the cellar being so distant.”

“Your majesty,” You offered no excuse as you backed away and took up your observance.

“Y/N,” He picked up the clean crystal glass, gesturing towards you with it, “A drink with dinner? I did not request the bottle merely to admire it.”

You swallowed a retort and stepped forward with a forced smile, uncorking the bottle and pouring the golden nectar precisely. You bowed your head as you set down the wine and his eyes remained on you a moment, the flicker behind them nipping at your patience. You folded one hand over the other and waited, counting in your head as he began to pick at his plate.

“I should like a bath drawn,” He said as half of his plate had been cleared, “If you would.”

“Certainly, your majesty,” You paid your obeisance and passed into the bath chamber, listening to the soft scrape of his fork upon the dish.

Within, you crossed to the large gilt pump which curved over the porcelain bath and began to work it. The effort was more than you expected and by the time you had it flowing steadily, you had sweat on your brow and a weight in your chest. You wiped your forehead with your apron and turned just as Thranduil entered, dropping the skirt of your smock back in place.

“I’ll see to the faucet,” He informed you, unbuttoning the collar of his robe dismissively, “You can tend to the dishes.”

“Your majesty,” You nearly blanched as he showed no modesty in undressing and before you could scurry into the bed chamber, he had bared nearly his entire chest.

You tidied his leftovers, weighing the bottle in your hand to find it half-empty. You set it back with his glass, knowing he would likely finish it by the end of the night as he had before. You returned the dirtied dishes to the kitchen, Lottie taking it from you with curious eyes. You could see she was eager to ask a dozen questions but your expression held her at bay.

Returning to the chamber, you went over every piece of furniture and inch of the room with a keen eye. You did not want the king to find fault with your duty and you would not let him get the best of you again this night. You stood just inside the open balcony doors, a fragrant summer breeze cooling you but you kicked yourself back into movement as Thranduil re-entered, his dressing robe wrapped around him.

You stilled yourself as the king sat at his vanity, his hair damp and as messy as it could be. His eyes met yours in the mirror and he smirked, tossing his locks behind his shoulders. He picked up a horsehair brush carved from ebony and examined the intricate designed engraved along the handle. He looked away and the slant of his lips unsettled you.

“A song,” He requested, or rather, commanded, “While you brush my hair.”

He held the brush over his shoulder towards you without looking and you resented his terseness. Slowly, you approached, muzzling yourself as you took the brush from him and searched your mind for a song. With any luck, the music would distract you from such an ignoble task. You inhaled deeply, pulling the bristles through the first strands of his hair.

“Summer has come in, Loudly sing, Cuckoo! The seed grows and the meadow blooms And the wood springs anew, Sing, Cuckoo! The ewe bleats after the lamb The cow lows after the calf. The bullock stirs, the stag farts, Merrily sing, Cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo, well you sing, cuckoo; Don't you ever stop now, Sing cuckoo now. Sing, Cuckoo. Sing Cuckoo. Sing cuckoo now!”

You continued to warble as you brushed his hair, resisting the urge to tug it most unceremoniously. As his locks hung smooth and untangled down his broad shoulders, you ceased your singing and set the brush down on his vanity. He was smiling as he looked to you, a peculiar shine in his eyes.

“Very lovely,” He commented as you backed away and hoped he would dismiss you for the night. Surely, he would be pleased when you had willingly bent to his servile requests. Yet, you could see in that he had little intent of releasing you so soon and thus you waited, refusing to falter.

“Y/N,” He stood, pushing back the chair suddenly and turning to you, “There is one other thing we must sort out before this night is over.”

“Your majesty,” You feigned interest, resigned to whatever double-edged chore he had in mind.

“If you would follow me,” He straightened his robe so that it fully covered his chest and led you to the tall doors, pushing one open and waving you to join him. “It would be simpler,” He explained as he led you down the corridor, “If you were to reside close by, opposed to the servants’ quarters so far away.”

You stayed silent as he stopped before a door not far from his own, small and unremarkable, and stirred around in the pocket of his dressing robe. He took out a king and held it out to you, “This will be your new chamber. You may return to your own this night, of course, bid your farewells and gather your belongings.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” You were less than pleased by the gesture, another ploy of his. A tactic to flex his power over you. You took the key from him and pretended to examine it, revealing none of your reluctance.

“My pleasure,” His smirk grew and you reined in your inner turmoil; any hope of returning to the stables was gone.

You bowed to him with every ounce of formality before turning away, keeping your posture rigid until you turned the corner. Freed from his constant gaze, you scowled at the corridor and shook your head. If the king thought it would be so easy to win, he was a fool.

*courtesy tag* @little-red-83 @everyjourneylove @sistasarah-sallysaidso @shikin83 @imagine-it-dream-it@thehalfelves @nordiskstormhatt @thesquidni