#those times he yelled to show he was upset?? hmm maybe they were outliners of his normal behavior to show he was upset

[ursie]

We as a people need to start being mean about fanon Dick again. Y’all fought the sunshine boy fanon..with more fanon like. No he’s not a girl failure, no he’s not a complete mess, no he’s not a bad brother, no he’s not a bad friend, no his friends don’t hate him, he’s not even actively an asshole. Yes the sunshine boy stuff wasn’t rooted in canon but taking a handful of incidents that were highly situational at best (and purposefully ooc in many cases) out of context isn’t any better. There is a middle ground here y’all 😭 and if y’all would actually read comics I bet y’all can find it 🙏🫡

[hyperpsychomaniac]

Who Says You Can't Go Home - Chapter 3

Darkwing Duck (90s series) fanfiction

Sequel to my recent fanfic The Other Side of Me

Summary: Down on his luck, the Negaverse Launchpad crashes at Launchpad’s parents looking for help. Launchpad, who has avoided visiting his family since he started working with Darkwing, returns in a panic to ensure his double isn’t causing trouble. And then it gets awkward.

Chapter 1

***

Launchpad left the Gator outside and stormed into the hanger. “Why am I always so stupid?!” Forget the planes. He just wanted to find something to throw.

Until he stepped inside. He’d forgotten how pristine his parents’ hanger was. Unlike the dilapidated hanger he’d been able to afford in Saint Canard, this was tidy and immaculate. Every plane was clean and painted. Every tool had its place, outlined in white paint on the numerous tool boards, so there could be no excuse to not put them back where they belonged.

The nostalgia hit him like a slap in the chest. This was where his love for aeroplanes had started, and grown. And it was impossible to separate those feelings from memories of his family, being here with him, and sharing every triumph and crash along the way. He’d missed this place. He wished he’d come back sooner. Launchpad gulped at the lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Why am I always so stupid?”

The only clutter was on the work bench in one corner, which had a half pulled apart piece of equipment on it. And beside the work bench, his father’s desk. It had been there for as long as Launchpad could remember. The diagrams and spreadsheets and post its stuck above it would inevitable change, and accumulate, but they were all along the same theme. Ripcord tracked every scrap of maintenance information to do with every plane in the hanger, at least until his wife told him to get rid of all that useless paper and he’d cut it back down to a more reasonable level. There was certainly a degree of organisation to it, be it something only his father could really follow. But, seriously, talk about overkill.

Launchpad picked up the maintenance drawings left out on the very top of the pile. Despite his annoyance at his father’s over-complication of what should be a simple task, this was the easiest way to see which plane Mom and Dad were currently working on.

“Okay, I get you’re ticked at Mom and Dad. But if you screw around with Dad’s paperwork he is really going to lose it.”

Launchpad dropped the paper back in its spot. “I wasn’t going to.” He turned to face his sister and flung a hand out at the wall behind him. “I can’t believe he’s still doing this.”

“I told him last time I visited I could help him computerise it,” said Loopey. “But I think he likes it all out where he can see it.”

“That’s not what I meant. They’ve barely got a dozen planes. How much time does he waste with this?”

Loopey raised an eyebrow. “Not everyone runs their planes to failure.”

Launchpad snorted. “I do not run my planes to failure. I run them until they crash. Then I have to repair it all anyway. That seems to keep on top of it.”

Loopey shrugged, then rubbed her arm. “Listen, I didn’t know Mom and Dad lied to get you here. I’m sorry.”

Launchpad leaned back against the desk. “Its not that they lied. It’s just… I was worried! But they’re not bothered by the other LP at all. I think Mom may have scared him into behaving himself. They don’t need me to keep him in line. And I just… I wasn’t ready for this. I came out in a rush. If he wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have even come!”

“You think, maybe, that’s why they weren’t honest? I know the last few times I’ve visited, they missed you. Especially Dad.”

He wanted to say it was complicated. That they’d end up asking too many questions, and he just wasn’t smart enough to make up something which wouldn’t put DW in a spot. “Yeah, well, looks like Dad’s got a replacement now, so.”

“Oh, Launchpad. Really?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m being childish. But I didn’t want to disappoint Dad and I knew he’d be upset that I haven’t seen him, or hardly spoken to him. I knew it was going to be awkward. But then he was there with the other Launchpad he just seemed… fine… and I wanted to be able to talk to him like that, but there’s all this… stuff… we’d have to go through first. I was going to come back at some stage. It’s just… hard. And now everything’s blown up. What am I supposed to do?”

Loopey put an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, lets take the planes out. You need to clear your head. By the time we get back, Dad’ll have calmed down too. I think you two just need to sit down and talk, you know. It’ll be fine. He’s just a big softie who hoards maintenance manuals. It won’t be as bad as you think, I promise.”

Launchpad smiled faintly. “Yeah, maybe. Lets do that. For so long I’ve just been flying the…” Thunderquack. He cut himself off with a gulp.

Loopey chewed her lip. “Whatever you’re doing right now, Mom and Dad are going to be proud of you.”

Yeah. If only he could tell them.

“Come on. You pick first. Hint: make sure its something small and manoeuvrable. There’s a place I really want to show you.”

***

“If its trouble you’re looking for, I’ve got a few ideas.”

Gosalyn whirled around at the familiar voice, fists bunched.

The Negaverse Launchpad leaned on the porch railing behind her, twirling an unlit cigarette in his fingers. She hadn’t even heard him approach. “I mean, I kind of owe you one. That was getting awkward. I’ll help Gosalyn find the snacks was a perfect excuse to get out of there.”

“You don’t fool me one bit.”

“You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“You beat up Launchpad!” Gosalyn jabbed a finger back at the house. “I bet you didn’t tell his parents THAT, did you?”

The cigarette slowed in its dance about his fingers, and Launchpad looked down at his boots. “I did, actually. Brought Mrs McQuack to tears. And the look on Mr McQuack’s face… I thought he was going to punch me. And I would’ve let him. But, of course, he didn’t. At least I know where Launchpad got his good heart from. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me these last few months if it weren’t for these guys.”

“What you did was still wrong. And mean.”

“I know. But Launchpad and me, we’ve already talked about this. I apologised, and he accepted it. At least, I thought he had.” Launchpad pulled out his lighter, paused, then headed off the porch and down the front path. He looked back over his shoulder. “Well, are you coming? Mrs McQuack will kill me if I light up right outside the house.”

Gosalyn chewed her lip. Awkward adult conversation, or the seedy guy her Dad definitely would not want her hanging out with alone? There was really no contest. She leapt down the front steps and jogged to catch up with him.

Launchpad grinned at her.

“Don’t look so smug. I said I’d be watching you. I can’t watch you if I just let you wander off, now can I?”

The Negaverse Launchpad shrugged. He lit up as they walked, then pointed to a churned up section of dirt just beyond the greener gardens surrounding the house. “That was where I landed when I crashed here.”

“I bet you don’t crash as good as Launchpad.”

“I thought I did a pretty good job for my first time. And with a snapped arm.”

Gosalyn immediately stared at his arm.

Launchpad flexed his hand with a slight wince. “It’s getting there.”

“How’d you snap your arm in an aeroplane?

“Genius that I am, I thought it’d be fun to hang out with air pirates. I figured they’d be a little nicer over in your dimension. They were, sort of. Unfortunately, thanks to your Launchpad, I think I’m developing a conscience. They were nicer, at least until you call them on their crap and tell them you’re leaving.”

“And they broke your arm…?”

“No. I broke it punching my way out of a poorly constructed jail cell so I could steal my aeroplane back.”

“Ow?”

“Yeah.” Launchpad sucked on his cigarette. Smoke wafted from his nostrils as he spoke. “But I’ll be damned if I let anybody else bully me into staying somewhere I don’t want to be.”

Gosalyn kicked at a stone along the dirt track. Launchpad had explained to her, back when he’d come back home after setting up his double with his own plane, why he’d done something nice for the guy who’d beat him up so bad it’d left him sobbing on their living room sofa. But she wanted to hear it straight from the source. “Launchpad said Negaduck wasn’t very nice to you.”

Launchpad looked away. “No, he wasn’t.”

“So what did…”

“Did you want to get into some trouble or not?”

Gosalyn scowled at him, then folded his arms. Fine, he could change the subject. She didn’t have to make it easy for him though. “I don’t know. You are still Launchpad, sort of. I don’t think you’d be game to get into my kind of trouble.”

Launchpad snorted smoke, and laughed. “Seriously, kiddo?”

“Launchpad won’t even play baseball in the house with me.”

“I ain’t your Launchpad.”

“Oh yeah? You wouldn’t even smoke outside the McQuack’s house because you’re scared you’re going to get in trouble with Launchpad’s Mom. So what have you got to offer?”

“There’s an art to getting into trouble that I’m only now starting to understand since I left the Negaverse. Over there, you can cause as much chaos as you want. Especially if you work for…” He swallowed, then covered it with a cough. “Well, over here, there’s an art. I’m not scared of the McQuacks. They’ve just been really nice to me and I don’t want to upset them by setting things on fire in their front garden. But that doesn’t mean I can’t set things on fire.” He winked. “They just can’t find out.”

“Hmm. I think you just don’t want them to yell at you.”

Launchpad shrugged. “That too.”

“So, we’re going to set something on fire?”

Launchpad rubbed at his beak, then snapped his fingers. “No. I think you’d like the potato gun.”

“There’s a gun for shooting potatoes? What did the potatoes do?”

“Not for shooting potatoes. For shooting potatoes. AT things. And because if I brought an actual rocket launcher onto their property I would definitely get kicked out.”

Gosalyn’s eyes widened. “Keen gear.”

***

As the two planes - one red, one pink - climbed into the air, Launchpad felt the lead in his stomach start to dissolve. The wind whipped through his feathers and blew his scarf back. It was cold and clean and it tore away at the last shreds of exhaustion better than any cup of coffee could. This was what he’d been missing in the Thunderquack.

Loopey’s bright pink plane pulled ahead of him. She waggled her wings, then tapped the side of her head.

Launchpad adjusted his headset.

“… still testing,” his sister’s voice came through the radio. “Hey, you big doofus. Loopey is the best.”

“Yes, I can hear you now. Squirt.”

Loopey snorted. “Seriously. I am not twelve anymore.”

“Gee, I don’t know…”

“I’m assuming you’re feeling better? You seem to have your sense of humour back.”

Launchpad settled into level flight. “Yeah. Thanks for this. I really needed it.”

“Good. Now, try to keep up.” Loopey dropped her plane down to skim the desert floor and accelerated.

Launchpad fell in behind her. His sister flew deliberately; she definitely had a place in mind. He followed her silently for a few moments, thinking. Where the heck had he not flown around his parents’ place? Sure, he’d left long before his little sister had been old enough that they could go out flying together, by themselves. Some new obstacle was not just going to grow out of the desert floor. Unless… “Loopey?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you taking me?”

“The canyon.”

It was the only place he could think of. But hearing Loopey actually say it still made Launchpad baulk. “Woah. Wait. The canyon?”

Loopey laughed. “Oh wow. Serious deja vu, big brother. You say that just like Dad used to.”

“Um, yeah. When he told us never to go fly there.”

“Yeah. When we were kids. We’re not kids anymore.”

Launchpad frowned. His sister had a point. “What was the reason he didn’t like it again?”

“He never said. Look, its a tight canyon. If you behave like an idiot, or you’re fifteen and don’t really know what you’re doing, you’re going to get in trouble. I’m not surprised he didn’t want his teen-aged kids flying through there and getting hurt. But we’re both adults now. We’ve got thousands of hours under the belt between us. We know what we’re doing. I’ve been dozens of times. You know, when I actually come to visit our parents. And… maybe once… when I was a teenager…”

Launchpad snorted. “Loopey!”

“Don’t you dare tell Dad that last bit!”

“Heh. I’m glad we’re on our channel.”

“He was just worried about us getting hurt. You know what he’s like. Trust me, it’s fine.”

“So, they know you go there now?”

“No, are you kidding?”

Launchpad laughed. “Okay, yeah. I think if I go to the scary forbidden canyon behind Dad’s back I can probably just about manage to talk to him when I get back without acting like a three year old. Get the rebellion out of my system. Thanks, Loopey. You really are the best.”

“And don’t you forget it. Okay. There it is. Two o'clock.”

A sheer cliff rose out of the desert surface. Loopey banked towards the crack she’d indicated and Launchpad followed, tight on her tail.

“It varies in height. But deep enough for two planes, so skilled pilots such as ourselves should be able to pass. It you decide you need to bail, check what’s up there first, or you’ll clip your wing on a branch or a rock or something growing over the edge. There’s a few narrow bits. But if you just concentrate, and stay on the line, you’ll be fine.”

The desert sped past beneath them; the crack raced towards them. “Got it.”

“Oh yeah,” his sister said as she lined her plane up with the entrance. “It’s a race.” She darted into the gap.

“Hey! Little sneak!” Launchpad didn’t bother sending the message through the radio. He grinned and barreled in behind his sister.

A pink tail darted around the first bend. Launchpad floored it, and concentrated on eating up the distance. She’d gained a slight lead. And her flying had gotten better since he’d last seen her. Her plane swayed along with the undulations of the canyon, perfectly in rhythm. She’d definitely done this before.

But the canyon walls were no tighter, comparatively speaking, to threading the Thunderquack through the skyscrapers of Saint Canard. Launchpad did that every second night. If he didn’t need to cover for DW, he could’ve told his sister that. Launchpad shook off the thought. He kept on her tail, cutting the corners tighter and tighter.

He saw his chance, he dipped the plane down, wheels just clearing the rocks below, and swooped underneath her, taking the lead. “Hah! You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to beat the great Launchpad Mc…”

Loopey shot clear over his head, did a complete sideways roll, rocked left and right, then angled her plane at the last minute to clear the next bend.

“Show off!” Launchpad drew in a breath and focused. He’d underestimated his little sister. But, like most people, he doubted she had as much experience crashing as he did. And experience crashing meant he had experience getting close to a crash without freaking out.

She knew the bends, but she was not getting anywhere near as close to those rocks as Launchpad knew he could. He caught up quickly. The canyon decreased in depth. Loopey was keeping down low, so he pulled up above her. His wings were about a foot or two from the top of the canyon. If he had to bail, he’d lose the race on a technicality. But the position meant he could also keep his sister from pulling any fancy moves on him.

“Launchpad, pull up! I’ve got to clear that…”

Now that was just low. There was plenty of room to… Launchpad saw the rock jutting out of the canyon wall, down at his sister’s level. In the position he’d forced her into, it’d cleave off half her wing.

Launchpad yanked up on the control yoke, at the exact moment his sister slammed her upper wing into his wheels. He shot out and over the edge of the canyon. Below him came the scrape of tortured metal and pulverised rock billowed up into the air. “Loopey!”

Launchpad banked his plane around, bleeding off speed as quickly as he could. He still shot back over the canyon far too fast. A flash of pink caught his eye, bouncing along the canyon floor, but disappeared again just as quickly.

Launchpad scrambled for his headset. “Loopey, Loopey! Come in. Are you okay?” Then he yanked his finger off the send button, leaving the channel open, and forced himself to wait.

The siblings’ channel, the one they’d used ever since their parents had given them their first two-way radio set, and they’d called each other from either end of the house, was filled with nothing but static.

“No, no, no…” Launchpad banked around again and landed the plane. He trundled right up to the canyon’s edge and leapt out, heart hammering in his chest. He cupped his hands to his beak. “Loopey!”

He caught sight of her plane below. The dents of his wheels were in her upper wing. The very edge of her wing had been sheared clean off. The canyon wall wasn’t that steep. He could climb down. Launchpad alternated between sliding and grabbing for handholds. His shoulder slammed into the dirt behind him in his rush and he skidded the last few feet down.

He was on his feet in an instant and ran for Loopey’s plane. “Loopey!”

Loopey leaned heavily against the side of her plane, hugging herself and drawing in steadying breaths.

Launchpad barrelled into her. “Loopey, I’m so so sorry.”

Loopey threw her arms around his neck. “The hell were you doing, Launchpad? I was telling you to pull up.”

“I know,” Launchpad sniffed, face buried against her hair. “I thought you were messing with me so I’d lose.”

“Not with something like that.”

“I know.”

Loopey pushed him gently back. Launchpad cupped a hand to her cheek and wiped away a stray tear from her feathers. “Please don’t cry.”

“Pft.” Loopey waved his hand away. “I just scared the crap out of myself. Besides, you are too you big dummy.”

Launchpad rubbed at his eyes, then turned his attention to Loopey’s plane. “Well, you managed to land in a canyon. That’s… impressive.”

“I cleared most of that rock after I had to ram you out of my way. Still clipped the wing though. That tends to slow you down pretty quick.”

“You’re not going to be able to fly that back, you know. Even if we fix it, we can’t take off in here.”

Both of the siblings turned to each other and winced.

Loopey snapped her fingers. “The jeep. It’ll be able to tow it out. And we can bring the parts to fix the wing. Just need some sealant and we can bolt or rivet that loose strut back down.”

“We can climb back out of the canyon. I’ll fly you back. We might just be able to get it back before Mom and Dad find out.” Dad. Launchpad groaned. “I think I need to sit down.”

“Woah, hang on.” They both sat in the shade under Loopey’s wing. She put an arm around his shoulder. “You okay?”

“I don’t know what’s scarier. The thought of facing Dad, or nearly killing my little sister.”

“Hey, this was not all your fault. This was super dumb. I should’ve at least taken you though the canyon to scout it out before we tried racing each other. That bit of rock I nearly ran into… it wasn’t even there last time. Something must’ve shifted.”

They sat under the wing for a few minutes more. Launchpad felt his heart starting to still. Well, turned out crashing was a whole lot scarier when someone you cared about was doing it. Who knew? They still had to get that plane back without letting their parents know what they’d done. It still set him on edge. But… it was better than the alternative.

“Hey, Launchpad?” Loopey said eventually.

“Yeah?”

“You know that awkward moment when you realise your parents were right?”

Launchpad groaned and put his face in his hands.

***

Chapter 4

[sunson]

you were a dream last night

He is so, very gentle; but with a tongue so, very wicked. //Genderbent eremika. nsfw.

ao3

It starts like most of these things usually do; in the middle of the night. However, unlike most things, it starts off with the gossip of Hannah, finally having slept with Franz, and her going in great detail about the ordeal.

“And what else?” Mina Carolina tries to cajole out of her, her blush rising from her neck to her face. “Did it… hurt?”

Hannah shakes her head shyly, her own blush overtaking her as she places her hands on her face, as though it might stop the redness from engulfing her. “No… well, yes. It did, but only a little bit! Afterwards it was… it was so nice and perfect and,” Here she sighs, as if reliving the memory, which Eren undoubtedly expects that she is.

“What did it look like?” Sasha asks from her side. “I’ve heard that it looks like a slug.”

“Eh?!” Hannah exclaims, mortified by the suggestion. “No! No, it did – it did not look like a slug. It looked – well, it looked,” And here Hannah looks side to side, searching for the words to come to her. Suddenly, her shoulders slump into defeat. “I… I guess it kinda looked like a slug. But it was a pretty one.”

“A pretty slug?” Ymir cuts in, dryly. “Ugh, you know what, I don’t even want to know. I’ve had enough of this.” She turns onto her side, flipping over the covers onto her. “You guys should sleep too, unless you still want to hear Hannah talk about Franz’s slug – excuse me, pretty slug. We have an early day tomorrow.”

And the talk ends there, more out of mortification and embarrassment than anything else. Although it ends, Eren can’t help but keep thinking about it. She hasn’t seen one, per say, but it doesn’t mean that she isn’t curious. She recalls Hannah’s words in her mind; soft, velvety, hard, and full of life. Eren can’t quite imagine that to be so. Genitals are just… genitals. Eren knows of her own, and she isn’t blind to others. But that’s mostly because sometimes the girls would… touch themselves in the middle of the night when they would think no one was awake. But male genitals…

She’s on the cusp of sleep when she hears the rustling of blankets and a soft whisper.

“Sasha are you awake?” It’s Mina’s voice, Eren notices.

Another rustle and Eren hears Sasha whisper quietly back. “I’m awake, yeah?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Because of… well, you know.”

“…Oh, that. Why is it bothering you?”

“I don’t know, I just,” Mina sighs in exasperation. “It’s making me feel weird.”

“Do you need me to put cotton in my ears?” Sasha asks hesitantly.

“What? No!” Mina almost shouts, but coughs afterwards. “I’m not feeling that weird. Just… I just want to talk about it a little more.”

“Okay, what do you wanna say?”

“Well,” And Eren can practically hear Mina blushing furiously. “I don’t know… which one of the boys do you think has a nice… penis?” Mina says the word so quickly that Eren would have lost it had she not been listening so intensely.

“Hmm… hard to say. Maybe Reiner? He’s very muscular. Or Betholdt? He’s tall, and well, apparently tall guys have… longer ones.”

“I agree, and you know that’s true actually. I’ve also heard that men with big hands have larger ones as well.”

“Well, who do you think has a nice one?”

“Um… maybe Mikasa?”

Eren almost chokes.

“… Or Marco. Who knows, not like I’d ever see either of theirs.” Mina says, almost sulkily.

And the conversation is distant in Eren’s ears. Of course, Eren isn’t blind to the attraction that Mikasa pulls to him. She’s heard enough about the girls in the dorms talking about him when they would think Eren wasn’t looking. They would talk about his face first, stating his exotic features that, for some reason, made Eren sick to hear. The first time she heard one of the girls’ comment on that, Eren almost yelled at her. As it was, she glared at her and shut the door extremely loud behind her. Everyone got the memo ever since then.

And then they would talk about his hair; saying how they had never seen that exact shade of black before, or how silky it seemed, and how it gleamed in the sunlight. She heard the crude remark from Hitch Dreyse, how Mikasa’s hair made her want to run her fingers through it as he rode her, just to see if it was as soft and silky as it looked. The implication almost made Eren throw up.

Of course, they would talk about his body as well. In the afternoon heat, during training, when jackets had been discarded to the side and sleeves were rolled up, it was impossible not to notice the fine lines of Mikasa’s muscles. His white, button-up shirt sticking to his skin, showing a set of abdominal muscles through it. Eren would notice, of course, but only because everyone else noticed. It didn’t help that Mikasa would never once remove his scarf, causing him to perspire even more, letting the sweat run from his skin almost sensually.

It’s… the first time she’s ever thought about Mikasa like that. Hell, it’s the first time Eren has allowed herself the indulgence of thinking about anyone like that. Of course, she notices attractiveness; it’s not as is she’s blind. But it’s just that… she’s never had the time to think about anyone like that. Always too consumed with thoughts of fighting and survival.

She recalls Hannah, before she bravely stated that tonight was the night she would sleep with Franz. When asked why, she blushed and stammered, saying that who knew if they were to die tomorrow? That she wanted to experience this, just in case anything happened to her or him. The speech had inspired some of the other girls, but Eren was not one of them at the time. She thought it silly that Hannah would want to waste her time doing something as frivolous as that. It didn’t make snese when she could be training instead. But to each their own, Eren had thought.

I am such a hypocrite, Eren thinks, screwing her eyes shut to make the mental picture of Mikasa shirtless vanish from her head.

Because, if Eren were telling the truth… then deep down, she also wants to experience the thing that Hannah did. She wants to be held by strong arms and have someone touch her in the most intimate way that she can think of. And now, those strong arms have a face. Midnight hair and inky black eyes; it’s Mikasa’s face that stares down at her, holding her thigh up in the air as his fingers work through her, thrusting in and out.

The last thing Eren sees before she succumbs to sleep, is the image of Mikasa zipping down his pants, pulling them down and revealing himself to her; bare and naked.

Come next day, and Eren cannot look at Mikasa. She avoids him during breakfast, throughout training, and even during cleaning duty. No doubt that he’s puzzled by this, but Eren can’t find it in her to look at him and not have last night’s thoughts written out on her face. Even Armin notices, and during dinner, asks her about it.

“Eren, are you mad at Mikasa?” He asks, taking a sip of his soup.

“What? No, what gave you that idea?” She says, vehemently.

“Well, mostly because you haven’t talked to him at all today.”

“I haven’t talked to anyone today.”

“Not true, you’re talking to me.”

“Armin!” Eren snaps, throwing her spoon down in her bowl out of frustration. She takes a breath and picks it up again. “I’m not in the mood today.”

He shrugs. “Alright, but just to let you know, Mikasa’s really upset. He thinks he’s done something wrong. You’re never this quiet you know.”

And Eren scoffs, turning her head to the side, thinking through the chatter and sounds of people eating in the dining hall. She’s about to turn to Armin, say that she’s sorry for snapping, until she sees someone’s crotch. To put it more accurately, she sees Mikasa’s crotch. She can’t pull her eyes away from it as it comes closer and closer to her, and if Eren can focus a little bit more, she can see the faint outline of his –

“Eren, are you okay?” Mikasa’s voice cuts in, laced with concern.

And she yelps, jumping in her seat and accidentally having her the top of her head hit Mikasa’s chin. “Ow,” She says, rubbing the top of her head just as Mikasa does with the underside of his chin.

“Eren – “Mikasa begins, setting aside his tray and moving his hand to her head in order to soothe her pain, but Eren slaps it away. The hurt on Mikasa’s face is enough to make her stomach churn with guilt.

“What’s wrong with you?” She says out loud, not sure if she’s speaking to herself or him. She stands up quickly from her seat, and walking away from the table, feeling the gazes of both Mikasa and Armin’s lingering on her back as she vanishes from their sight.

She walks outside, not caring if anyone were to see her and punish her. She sits on the stairs to of the entrance, her face in her hands as the moon shines her surrounding blue.

It’s quiet enough that Eren is able to think properly. She knows that she’s been an absolute bitch to Mikasa. Not just today, but almost every day. She doesn’t even know why she acts the way she does in regards to him. Perhaps it’s jealousy. Eren will fully admit that Mikasa’s natural over-powering strength has always been a place of envy for her. What Mikasa can do in a single movement, it takes Eren hours upon hours to try and do recreate it.

And it doesn’t help that she’s finding herself attracted to him. It’s all Mina and Sasha’s fault, what with their talk of the boys’ penises and whatnot. If not for their conversation, Eren wouldn’t be in this situation. Her life would be going on normally without having the intense desire of wondering what Mikasa would look like naked.

She sighs, the cold of the night making her wrap her arms around herself. She stays there, silent and quiet, until she hears footsteps approaching.

At first, she thinks it’s Shadis, or one of the other soldiers coming out to scold her. But suddenly, a blanket is thrown over her from behind, and she knows without having to look that it’s Mikasa.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” He says, taking a seat next to her. “You could get into trouble.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Eren says. It’s still between them two. As though time has stopped and there’s nothing but the beating of their hearts and the moon shining down at them. She sits up straight, an apology ready on her lips and then –

“I’m sorry,” She hears Mikasa say, his head looking down at the ground. “I… I don’t know what I did, but if you tell me, I’ll try not to do it ever again.”

And here Eren sighs, more out of frustration than anything else. “You didn’t do anything wrong Mikasa. I was just being a bitch to you for no reason.”

Eren sees Mikasa visibly cringe at the word she uses to describe herself. “It’s true,” She continues. “I was being a bitch and I don’t have any explanation for it. I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She pulls his hand into her lap, stroking the smooth skin in apology. These hands that have become a source of comfort to her over the years. Hands that have helped Eren through her worse. She thinks about Mikasa and suddenly, Eren realizes. She cannot ever live without him. This boy, this strange, quiet boy who still keeps the scarf she gave to him so long ago, who’s eyes search for her out of a sea of everyone else. This boy for whom she would die for. Whom she would protect, forever.

She starts first, resting her head onto his shoulder, taking in his scent as she does so. He nestles his head onto hers afterwards, his hand thrown over her shoulder, squeezing her to him even closer. They are both so close, the closest they have ever held each other. Her head moves from the crook of his shoulder to his chest, cheek sliding against the fabric of his shirt. She looks up at him, and if she tries hard enough, she can count each individual, long eyelash of his. Her gaze turns to his nose; she’s always had a sort of fascination with it. When they were both still young, Eren would take her finger up to his nose, pressing it softly as if it was a button, and Mikasa would smile when she’d say, ‘There, I turned you off Mikasa.’ She chuckles silently at the memory, and enacting the situation, she brings her finger up to his face, pressing softly at the tip of his nose. He scrunches up his eyebrows slightly at her, but as if remembering the memory, he smiles and brings the hand that Eren held in her lap to his face, fingers placing themselves on top of her own.

“I turned you off, Mikasa.” She whispers.

“Yeah,” He says, so close that she can feel his breath on her face. “You did.”

Her fingers start to move, from his nose to his cheek and then into his hair, and oh, Eren realizes. His hair really is satiny and soft, just like everyone expected it to be. It’s a shame that it’s so short. Had the strands been longer, Eren has no doubt that they would slip through her fingers like silk.

She sits up, abandoning the blanket, and the air has turned heavier in the past few moments. Mikasa, as though realizing the situation himself, sits up straight too, eyes wide with curiosity, and – Eren notices – hope.

She moves; slowly. She closes her eyes and tip her face, copying it the way her parents did. Her hand still in his hair, pulls at the fine strands, pulling him towards her, and abandoning all sense and fear, she leans in and she kisses him.

It leaves her wanting; the kiss. Her lips on his bring a fire to her stomach, one that Eren has never known. It makes her – gentle, dizzy. Makes her feel – loved. Mikasa lips are soft and sweet on hers and suddenly, Eren knows.

Mikasa is the only person that has ever made Eren like this. Teasing out emotions she never knew she had. Protection, jealousy, happiness… she has only ever wanted with him. He is the only one she has ever wanted to touch like this; the only one she wants to touch her.

She kisses him harder, to tell him this. Kisses him to let her know that she’s sorry, that she never wants him gone from her life. Mostly, she kisses him to let him feel the love she has for him. The love she wants him to know, and the one for him to keep in the pocket of his heart.

She knows what she has to do know; with him, it has never been more clear.

She pulls away slightly, and he looks at her with cheeks tinted pink and a gaze in his eyes that says to never have this end. She looks at him, and if she could, Eren would take him right here, right now. As it stands, however, she says, “We need to go somewhere else.”

And as if snapped backed to reality, Mikasa looks around. “Follow me,” He says, taking ahold of her hand. “I know a place.”

They walk to the back of the compound, to where the horses were usually kept. He ushers her into the shed, closing it slowly behind her. As he does so, Eren spreads out the blanket he gave to her onto the ground, hands pressing onto the creases, pushing them out. She lays down onto it, in a hopefully seductive manner; legs spread out and sitting up slightly for her chest to be on display. He turns to her as he locks the inside with a plank of wood, watching her with something akin to bewilderment; as if he’s in a dream.

He moves to her slowly, sinking down onto his knees as he approaches her. Their lips meet each other once again, but it’s different this time. The inside is burning, and Eren feels herself growing hot and aching for something. Their mouths part open, and Mikasa licks her lips in a downwards swipe, eventually entering it into her mouth. Their tongues stroke the other, just as their hands stroke their bodies. Eren feels the strong muscle of Mikasa’s arms, caressing them through the shirt that Eren wants gone.

His scarf still hangs snug around his neck, and with a carefulness she has never known before, begins to peel it away. Her hands shake as she does so, pulling herself away from the heated kiss; her forehead resting on his. She places the scarf gently to her side, letting it lay in a lumpy pile.

“That’s okay?” She whispers, looking for confirmation.

He smiles at her; a sweet, heartbreaking smile. It’s his rarest one; the one where his lips quirk up slightly, and his eyes crinkle and it’s like she’s looking at him for the first time. As if she’s looking at the boy who used to be there, the boy she didn’t get the chance to know. The boy who was… a boy.

“That’s okay.” He says to her. “With you, it’s always okay.”

She loves him still. She loves him everywhere, and every time. His eyes look like the night sky and she understands this; that she could not live without him.

She tries to calm her heart and tries to keep her fingers still as she undoes the buttons of his shirt; unfastening them one by one, as quickly as she can. He shrugs it off of him when she’s finished, and let’s her hands roam around his –

Oh. Eren realizes. Oh.

His abdominals are rock hard under her fingers, a fine set of eight or even more. Her own stomach is set ablaze and there is a quiet tension in her; a feeling that she is overcome.

It becomes his turn now, with his hands slipping up from underneath her shirt up to her chest. He stops, almost hesitant, but Eren urges him, rocking her body closer to his hands and he removes away the shirt from her, discarding it to the side. He parts from her mouth, leaning back to see her with the help of the faint moonlight that seeps through the open window.

She doesn’t wear a bra; Eren never has had the need to. She isn’t particularly well-endowed as compared to the other girls, but it saves her from the trouble of having to suffer in the confines of wires. Mikasa stares at her chest, and Eren feels herself growing shy. She turns away from his look, but then, he has his hands on her breast, encompassing them and feeling them through; stroking and massaging, pinching her nipple in between his fingers which leads out a soft gasp from Eren.

He brings his head down, level to her left breast, and kisses the areola. He then slowly takes her breast into his mouth, tongue lapping over the nipple. Days ago, when Eren had touched herself there to wash herself, she had felt nothing. There was no excitement, no heat, no overwhelming urge then. But she feels it now, and the feeling becomes tenfold when Mikasa stretches onto her, his hardness expectant through his pants.

She moans as he moves to her other breast; nipping and tugging at the teat. His mouth is hot on her chest, and Eren can’t help the sounds that escape from her throat. It doesn’t sound like her, she dully realizes. She has never sounded like this; needing and wanting. Another situation occurs, one that has only ever happened on the rarest of occasions. Eren can feel herself getting wet, and it gets to the point where she can’t take it anymore. She pushes Mikasa away from her breast as she tries to tug away her pants.

He notices; of course he does. He replaces her hands with his own, and frees her legs away from the trousers, hands ghosting over her underwear and she groans.

“Oh, Mikasa,” She says, not caring how much of a beggar she sounds. “Mikasa please,” She rocks her pelvis up to his hand.

It’s silent for a moment, and then a quiet, “Okay,” from Mikasa and he disappears.

It takes Eren a while to find out where he is. Once he is face to face with her Venus, his tongue is almost immediately on the fabric of her underwear, Eren swears that she almost sees stars. He kisses her core through her panties which are already drenched, buries his nose in a little, taking in her scent, and then, with one of his fingers, he discards her underwear and spreads her legs even further apart.

She is dizzy with emotion and almost yells in relief when Mikasa finally presses his tongue against her. She almost buckles and loses control, but she takes it back, trying her best to breathe as normally as she can.

“You’re perfect,” She hears Mikasa say. “You’re so perfect, Eren. You’re beautiful, especially like this.”

“Heh,” Eren says, almost coyly. “Really?”

“You taste,” and Mikasa takes one long lick, stretching up all the way to the bud that makes her go hazy. “You taste good.”

“Oh?” She says, fighting off the redness that threatens to engulf her.

“So, good,” and it’s as though he isn’t speaking to her. Lost in this world of his tongue on her pussy.

He does something different, and inserts his tongue into her, making little thrusts in and out of her as his hand makes it to her clit, rubbing the bud in slow circles. He doesn’t stop once and Eren has to grab a hold of his hair to keep her from losing herself. She doesn’t know what she says, all she knows is that it is Mikasa’s name on her lips, begging him to never stop, to allow her blissful release.

“Please, I’m so close,” she weeps. And then –

Her orgasm comes down onto her, rippling through her body in large waves. She pressing Mikasa faces to her pussy, riding out the effects until she is nothing left but a heaving mess. Her body still shakes afterwards, and she feels the after-effects as she stretches her legs; trying desperately to relive the pleasure.

She collapses down on the blanket, her breathing coming in short pants. Her hair is matted to her forehead, stuck by sweat and Mikasa moves to gently sweep them aside, caressing her cheek and leaving long, sweet kisses all over her face as she sighs.

“Love you,” He says, murmuring between kisses. “Love you, so, so much.”

“Yeah,” Eren says, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. “I love you too.”

The information given to her is not new, but the implication of it is. She never thought about love in its romantic concepts, but now her stomach flutters as she thinks about Mikasa and the love they both created today. The love that they have revealed to each other.

She caresses his arms, hand moving down to his thigh where his hardness is still present. She gently touches; encompassing his length through the barrier of his trousers, moving up and down very slowly.

“You don’t have to do that,” she hears him say, turning his gaze away from her shyly. “I’ll be fine. Being here with you… that’s enough for me. You’ve given me so much.”

“But I want to give you more,” she protests, mouth pressing against the hollow base of his throat. “This is what I want. I want you, Mikasa. You’re so beautiful and I want you.”

It’s changed, somehow. The atmosphere that had once been set a flame is now – tamer. Calm. She knows what she wants now, and it’s not just Mikasa’s body. It’s him. Him in all his glory, in all his shame.

“Okay,” He says, quietly. “Okay.”

She lets him push her down, laying on her back as she looks up to him, and she swears that for a moment, he was made of moonlight.

He’s unzipping his pants, and she notices how his hands tremble and shake. It gives her relief in a way. He is just as nervous as she is. She brings her foot up to his thigh, moving up and down his legs to provide him a comfort of some sort.

��Don’t be nervous.’ She wants to say. ‘Don’t ever be nervous.’

He places his hand on her raised leg, stroking it in appreciation. Time doesn’t stop then, as much as she wishes for it to, and in a few moments his pants and his underwear are shoved away unremembered, and Eren comes face to face with his penis.

With the help of the moonlight that illuminates the dark room, she can see it completely clearly. It stands rigid and long, with the tip leaking out a bead of come, and Eren can only think of one thing.

‘Wow. That is a really pretty slug.’

He moves towards her, hovering just a few inches above, fingers grabbing her face delicately. She can feel him at her entrance, and she’s already wet, already aching. Her legs have draped themselves over the back of his thighs and her hands move from his neck to his back; feeling the strong, steady muscles that lay beneath the skin. They keep moving downwards, until the muscles turn soft – yet firm. His ass, Eren observes, is smooth and pert, and it is probably her favourite thing about him.

He enters into her with a groan that he tries to quiet down by mouthing at her shoulder. Eren gives a small gasp; the feeling is so unusual, so foreign to her, but it feels nice. Like she’s being filled, she remarks. She thinks about how the girls were so wrong in their theories; how Hannah must not have done it right because this, it doesn’t hurt. It’s the opposite really. She’s filled with Mikasa and Eren feels lovely.

“Am I hurting you?” He immediately asks, his expression turning to one of concern.

It takes a beat of silence for her to answer. “No,” She says, completely dazed down; so much so that she can’t be bothered about how her voice sounds. It sounds – dirty, like how a prostitute might sound. “Feels good.”

He takes her answer for what it is, and starts moving. It’s slow at first; as if he’s controlling himself, but they both make due during that time; tongues touching the other, his warm, skillful mouth on her breast. The heat rises again, and Eren is in awe of his movements, the ones that cause that friction in her that makes her so needy, so deprived.

His thrusts in her turn fast, and all she can think of is finally, finally, finally. She grabs onto his back, leaving welts and crescents on the skin, and mumbling out words she has never said. At least, not in this context.

“Mmhhm, perfect, perfect Mikasa, keep going like this. Just like that.” The sound of skin slapping skin; the obscenity that’s fresh in the air, she doesn’t care. Eren has never known how much she has wanted this, how good this feels. She wonders why she deprived herself of this for so long.

“Eren- “Mikasa bites out, head digging into the crook of her shoulder. “So warm… Eren… I’m so close. So close…”

“Fuck, Mikasa,” she throws her head back. “Fuck, come in me, come in me, come in me please!”

He makes a sound she has never heard before. A whimper, a little whine that escape from his mouth, and he starts going in hard. Harder than she expected; as hard as she ever wanted him to be.

She doesn’t know when her orgasm hits her until she feels her body rise, stretch and shake. Her internal wall clamping against Mikasa’s cock, taking a hold of everything in its way. She doesn’t know how loud she shouts; her ears deaf and without tune. All she knows is that she had said Mikasa’s name over and over again; a whisper of her lips, a kiss with tongue.

Somewhere in between, he comes too. She knows because she feels his seed inside of her, spreading to her core. He’s exceptionally beautiful when he comes; ruthless and uninhibited. She has never seen him like this. Cool, calm Mikasa, now a mess at her feet. She can’t talk about that though, there are many things that she has done tonight that have made her question herself. But alas, those are thoughts for another day.

They keep still like this for a long time. All that is left is them; the mingling of their breaths, the rise and fall of their chests.

“Eren,” Mikasa says, still a bit disoriented. “I love you.”

She smiles tenderly, her hands buried in the softness of his hair. “I love you more.” It’s a true statement, and it doesn’t make her feel afraid to say it out loud. She loves this weird, unusual boy. She’ll shout it to the world if she has to.

“Not possible.” he mumbles, picking up his head and rolling over to his side.

“Hey,” She says.

“Yeah?”

“You have a nice cock.”

“Eren!” He turns away from her, embarrassed.

“What? It’s true. By the way, where did you learn to do… all of this? Especially the thing with your mouth?”

He looks up at the ceiling, as if remembering something he’d rather forget. “Armin’s curiosity knows no boundaries.”

Eren scrunches up her nose; half weirded out and half shocked. “Thanks. I’m never going to be able to look at Armin in the eyes ever again.”

“You’re telling me,” he says, moving closer to her and resting his head right above her breast. “I think I went through a crisis when I found out.”

“Awh, poor Mikasa,” she laughs, breathlessly. “Well, better you than me.”

“Hmm, that’s true. Hey,”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want this to end.”

“It won’t,” she assures him, kissing the top of his head. “I’ll make sure it won’t.”

They both know that they aren’t talking about this moment. They’re talking about the moments to come in the future. The moments that will remain a constant in both their lives; something Eren will make sure of.

They lay in each other’s arms, legs tangled and fingers intertwined. They watch on silently as the blue hue of the room vanishes, replaced with the yellow beginnings of dawn. But in between that moment, where twilight began; she swears that he was made of moonlight.

[sowha70-blog]

Chapter Two

“Is there something wrong with me? Am I in a mental ward? Am I sick?” Dawn finally asked one of the two guys who routinely checked on her every hour. She was quiet for a while before until she confirmed her thoughts about what was happening.

She was given injections before and they all looked like nurses who wore coats for tending the biohazards. Odd but that’s where she got the idea of where she might be. Those people, they were like collecting data of her, like a specimen in a jar. Even if she was supposed to reject their treatments, she still did not have her strength with her and she’s smart enough to know that this facility wherever she’s in must’ve had a heavy security. On the other hand, she should think fast.

Funny, Dawn thought that she could hear one of them said something under his breath, about if she really ‘trying to communicate again’ sounding amazed. Even so, no one tried to talk her back. She felt it sickening for a while, her other speculation was that the chance of her being abducted by aliens were solid. Those people looked like it was their first time seeing a human being, even though they looked like humans themselves.

After some blood testing, weird tests with strange-looking instruments and multiple of painful injections, the men walked away with their stuffs leaving her behind, again alone in her room. There was supposed to be around an hour before the next round of tests but this time, a man with the gas mask came in just minutes after the men left.

They both stared for a while, or that’s what Dawn felt since she could not really see through the mask’s dark thick—maybe film-screened— lenses.

“Nate?” the silence broke, “Nathan, is that you?”

It would be very ridiculous that if Nate was pranking her right now. What do you know? He is a one big goofy and carefree guy who loves this type of show. Maybe that’s the point of the cameras. She was on a TV show not to mention that shows nowadays had the budget and let alone the guts to do crazy things like abduction pranks.

Nate—or the guy in front of her, supposed to have already exposed their tricks a while ago. But he just stood there, tilting his head with crossed arm like some kind of a thinking pose.

He took a few steps towards Dawn.

“That’s amusing,” his voice felt somehow condemned cold that it pricked the spines, he was definitely not Nate.” This… ‘Nate’, can you describe him for me?”

“Who are you?” Dawn leaned on her bed, ready to jolt for a run if she should.

“Me?” He paused, “I am a scientist. Everyone called me Professor Young, you can call me anything you like. But let’s not talk about me shall we, how about you tell me more about yourself, hmm?”

Dawn considered some options for her answer, or she could just not answer him. Although it would probably the best to just scoop some information about what the hell happened to her. But before she said anything either, Young took out something out of his pocket. It was a photograph.

“You might probably feel nervous talking to a man with his face hidden. Here, this is me when I was around ten years ago, before—you know,” he showed a picture of what he claimed his 10 years ago appearance. The photograph looked worn out, folded outlines crossed among the print as if to show how the owner of it always had the picture unfolded multiple of times. Inside, he was seen standing hand in hand with a ponytailed little girl seemed to be his daughter. She could say with their same happy wide eyes and smiles, and both have a very similar shade of fine hair. “I lost her, She loves the sky and her favorite was the Dawn time. It was a terrible accident. Taking my poor daughter even my face with it as well, that’s why I wear this every time even in my sleep if you’re wondering.”

The vibe of him changed, even though he told his story with his menacing voice, he sounded earnest. The mask or the result of the accident, he said might be the one causing his voice sounded like a dying person.

“I’m sorry,” Dawn returned Young’s photograph for him to slip it back to where it always belong.

“No, you don’t have to be sorry. Anyway, you must be really confused and most likely scared. Not to mention some of us had done things to you that you might find it uncomfortable,” he gestured an apology and continued, “you ought to be frightened so I come here in personally to see your condition and you look very healthy, but also very curious indeed. I assume that you are not what we think you are, you looked much calmer than we thought you might be when you woke up so I rearranged some of your schedules and as for today, you will be coming with me for a stroll. I know you have so much to ask so please come join me, or you can ask along the way. Well, I cannot answer to everything but I can manage to ease your worries or you can share me things about yourself.”

Young signed the one of the cameras. Seconds later two heavily armed white men walked in. Apparently they were their ‘guards’.

“Don’t be scared, they’re not going to hurt you. They are going to protect us.”

“Protect us from what?” without hesitation, Dawn asked.

He didn’t answer her immediately but walked away towards the door; she followed him outside the room with the guards tailing them close behind when then he answered, “there are some ‘things’ kept inside here,” Dawn could see her room from the giant window they just passed, “some of them—most of them are dangerous, some lethal and some of them, well, unpredictable.” It took Dawn a minute or two to digest every bit of the words given right in front of her face.

Has she gone mad? Judging by how the doctors handled her like a fragile being there’s the possibility of this place being a lunatic hospital full of murderous sick-minded people. But he said scientists, not doctors.

The corridors were wide, cameras are all over the corners and surprisingly it didn’t really smell like hospital anymore. More guards and lab-coated guys walked past them, eyes trailing at them as prof. Young continued their chat, “I am actually amazed by how normal you are. Three days after you woke up in a place like this with people you don’t know and you are as calm as even a human could never be. You are surprisingly quiet.”

There was a brief silence before she spoke. “I am not sure what to react with all of this,” Dawn said.

After a couple of turn, Dawn found herself walking past another giant window like the one in her room, but this time it was quite different.

“Where are we go—” She took a big gasp.

She could not believe her own eyes, how could she. What she saw was a really odd-looking creature inside the room. When you imagine the things from the fantasy novels or movies, they all look very beautiful and breathtaking. But when the real deal is right in front of you, it felt entirely different. Like all of your comprehension of life were all sucked in and the dreadful feelings that all the creatures mentioned in the top ten shits or whatever on the internet were not all hoax. Very upsetting.

It was a goat standing all two, like a human, wearing the same clothing like Dawn. His build didn’t really look like a goat, it looked like a man, like the ones you see in the Narnia movies. But the horns were cut off, its hoofs seemed dull and even one of its eyes was covered in an eye-patch, faints of scars were to be seen on its shoulder and chest. It was standing on the side of his bed like it was praying, looking very tired.  

They both stopped and gazed there in front of the glass that parts them with the creature. “Crazy right? Like he was coming out from a creepypasta or a nightmare. Such a poor thing he must’ve endured lots of pain being here, I cannot do anything while he’s under someone’s supervision. If you asked me, I would at least talk to him so he would feel less harmed. You wouldn’t believe how much humane are these things”

“You’re a human? I thought—“

“Young!” Another all-white man headed towards them, half yelling between Dawn’s words, “I told you not to do anything ridiculous!”

“Stone! Oh have you met Dawn? She’s transferred to me when she came here. A very lovely girl, I feel bad not to let her out and look around.” Dawn and the ‘Stone’ guy had their eyes met and he frowned.

“Young, I know you’re new here but stop being such an idiot! She’s not allowed wandering around like this.” Stone signed the guards something.

“No, I can let her. She’s in my supervision and you have no authorities to ban me doing this.”

This dumbfounded Dawn, as she just remain there silently watching them argue.

Stone Grabbed Young on his sleeves and dragged him away from Dawn so she might not hear a thing of what they were going to discuss. “Listen, Young, we still don’t have enough information about her…”

For somewhat reason Dawn wasn’t interested in their secrecy that she was supposed to. She stared into the room of the Goat-man. The thing that she caught up was that they both wore the same clothes, imprisoned in the same type of room, being supervised altogether that concluded both of them were in the same shoes. The sad look of the creature gave Dawn the urge to tap the window, which she did, that made herself being pulled roughly by the guards away from the window. Which then made her see her own reflection, for the second time.

She didn’t recognize her own skin.

But soon she remembered. Her memories of her childhood came back like burned films, her mother’s name, her boyfriend’s name, even the glimpse of her last memory before she was lost conscious. However, why couldn’t she remember her own name, or even her own face? Was this what it supposed to feel like having amnesia? There were so many questions to ask.

“Hey!” Young’s broken voice startled them all, “she’s just curious so let her be.”

“Oh, you’ll never understand! I’ll be reporting this to the superiors and let’s see you having fun tomorrow,” Stone stomped away to the path Dawn and the others came.

“Then I’ll let you try,” Young cracked a mocking laugh. He was good on how he teased with his cracking voice. He could be smiling gleefully under his mask. There was a hint that he could not be that old, since he had such a humor. “He’s funny, he wanted to look almighty even thought he was no more than a newcomer like me. But you see, I am smarter.” Young patted Dawn’s shoulder and stepped beside her, staring the same window together.

“Why am I here, Professor?”

Prof. Young sighed, “I know you might wonder things like this, it is actually confidential on why and how but…” he paused, “it doesn’t really hurt to tell simple answers by now. Since you can ask me questions, it is fair for me to ask you back then.”

A fair bargain, “then can I have my answers first?”

Prof. Young nodded. “We suspects you for an unidentified being.”

That was short, Dawn thought. For her it was one of the most likely answers so she was not surprised.

“My turn,” Prof. Young tapped Dawn’s shoulder and led them through the hallways. As they walked he asked, “Do you know, or even realize, who you really are?”

It baffled Dawn, “I believe I am a human being, you know, from planet Earth?”

She could hear a hushed chuckle of probably one of the guards. Rude.

“That seems like it. You have zero idea, huh?”

“You mean, I am not actually human?”

“Hmm,” Prof. Young’s gestures were always obvious. The way he swings his head when he think, how he waves his arms when describing. Now, he’s thinking, “I am actually new to this facility. I volunteered here long after you were already here. Your data were almost left none because the incident that happen a year ago so I have only a little idea of what you actually are.”

It made Dawn more confused, “A year? I’ve been here for at least a year? What about Nat—I mean my family? Friends? Won’t they be looking for me?”

They stopped facing an elevator, the hallway was quiet and only few doors and the rest are just floors and artificial plants other than the pair of elevator doors they were facing.

“Nobody came for you Dawn.”

Her heart sank, “they probably doesn’t know that I’m here.”

“Unlikely.”

The elevator opened and they entered. Inside was surprisingly has its interior made classic, unlike the sleekness of the hospital elevators. Even if it still has the odor of chemicals, the mood changed a bit. The strange part was that it has no buttons of floors any elevators used to have, cause it only has what seemed like a scanner and a small keypad that you probably see on a safety deposit box.

“How about you tell me how far you can remember about your past, I wish to know in detail of what you recall until the last moments before you came here,” the elevator went up as they continued their conversation.

 --

They were now left alone in a room full of books, papers and dirty mugs. The guards didn’t come inside; they just stood in front of the closed door outside. There was a drawn curtain behind a desk that looked like it was cleaner than the other corners of the office.

“Now!” Prof. Young clapped, “we’re finally alone. I assure you nobody can see or hear us here, not even a hidden camera.” He waltzed around the laying books and sat behind his desk. Dawn could only see half of his face within the piles of documents on the desk. She stumbled some books until finally she could see the chair facing the desk.

“Why are you doing this?” Dawn sat facing him, trying hard not to glare at him, “why do you risk bringing me here to talk this kind of things? Aren’t you going to lose your job?”

There was a minute of silence until the other one finally spoke, “as you can see I am not fond with their rules and regulations. I do not intend to keep this job as well. And if what you say was true, it looks like you were just merely a human being.”

“I don’t get it. Then why am I here?”

“Good question!” Prof. Young straightened his seating position and leaned on the desk, “Why would a human, who only lost her memories of herself be here, in a facility of peculiar beings? Let me tell you something. Do you remember the half beast half man before?” He waited her to nod and she did, asking why, “he was a human too before. Born in a normal life, normal family, working as a normal soldier, until one day, he was sent to a mission. He never came back.”

“What happen then?”

“Apparently he was sent, not to a mission, but a sanctuary full of crazy biological weapons. He was then being experimented, meanwhile announced dead to his wife, two of his daughters and one infant. It was a failure, he wasn’t strong enough for the standard so they sent him to a death sentence but he ran away. This organization had found a way to catch and lock him here for good, like what we did to you.”

It was really clear now, Dawn caught herself holding her breath, “so, what you’re saying is that there’s a possibility I am being abducted?”

“Even worse,” Prof. Young exhaled, “there’s a chance you were remodeled.”