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yxstxrdrxxm · 7 months

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SYNOPSIS: Kazuha, a well-known tailor in Inazuma, had a spouse. It's only a shame that his spouse is known for their 'infidelity' in his eyes. [ songfic ]

TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking, minor and major character death/s, emotional manipulation in a way, gore, violence, fire/arson, sewing... questionable fabric, unreliable narrator, shifting POVs, dead dove: do not eat, dollification, delusional thinking, Kazuha progressively loses it till the end, beheading, oh God this fic and tws are long Im so sorry―

NOTE: During the fic, it is recommended to listen to "The Tailor of Enbizaka". It will make sense when you read through this fic :)

(also, I apologize if this took a while for me to write. I got busy and writer's block hit me :( anyways, second work and its the best boy! Though, I hope you all don't blame me for fucking him up. Also also!! This is very much a long, LONG fic— like 2k+ long, so 🫡 gl soldier, I'll see if I don't need to make this to a 2 part series)

(update: this fic took 6k words, good luck y'all, this one is a WILD ride)

In Inazuma, there is a tale that is shared by many about a crimson clad man and his lover.

The others never settled on what he looked during the day before his death, nor were they sure what his prior job was before he became a tailor. However, they always complimented him for his looks and his skill, knowing that whatever he used as his own special fabric would be tailored and taken care of well.

Even with one full of holes and tears, he is gifted with the ability to patch them up till it was brand new. In the village he lived in, he was regarded for having such a talent, and he had his shop open and full of visitors.

However, the only thing that made people question him was his behavior. Despite how mild-manner the tailor was, he often comments on how his beloved darling refused to come home and continues to cheat on him.

Many those that still lived during the time said the crimson-eyed tailor acted delusional, but just how far can those delusions go?

No one knows but the man himself... And the one who persecuted him, too.

It was that year since I've seen my beloved after the accident.

A year that, when I saw them, I've longed to see them and speak to them about our time together as a married couple.

To begin with, I am Kaedehara Kazuha, or― as the townsfolk here call me, the 'Crimson-Eyed Tailor'. Although I am highly regarded for my craftsmanship, many told me that I am odd for my adoration for my beloved maple.

Why is it that odd? I thought all married couples do this, even if some think that it feels off.

Besides that, however, my darling isn't quite aware of my... Endeavors. More specifically, their streak of getting out for hours, perhaps days and weeks, and not even coming around to speak to me.

I am bound to them by an oath when we were married: we both drank sake together under that faithful light of the moon, with only nature watching over us. However, it would seem as if they have forgotten that, and ended up cheating on me in broad daylight.

Like they had no such shame.

Alas, I am but their husband, and I can't simply get mad at my beloved spouse. I know they did no wrong, for they sometimes meet with others as an act of being 'friendly'.

So while I focused on fixing the kimono, I've began to hear something that had been passed around in the village.

Something related to my darling's little ventures.

"I have spoken to [Name] about the matters in their marriage recently," one of the ladies spoke, her voice not so soft enough to conceal who she was speaking about as I fixed the fabric in my hands.

"And from what they told me, they're getting their kimono fixed for when their lover returns home!"

I simply continued on sewing, but the lady's next words had me flinch.

"Ah, they've been married for years, aren't they? And it seems they even have their shiromuku ever since their marriage to sir Kamisato Ayato. How romantic!"

...

The blood continues to spill on my finger, with the needle that I used pricking it when I've lost focus and got too careless.

How uncouth.

From the tale shared by the folks of Narukami Island, they talked about the crimson-eyed tailor's marriage with his supposed 'spouse': an immigrant of sorts from Fontaine, traversing to Inazuma to meet with their lover.

Their relationship together is strange. From the accounts of those with prying eyes, they said that he was the only one putting an effort to their relationship, and they wished to take it slow.

However, there are those that disagreed, saying that it had been the other way around— and it was he who wished for them to slow down.

No one can decide what the tailor had done, for they can't even tell if his desires were to rush or to slow down. But what can be confirmed is one thing everyone kept saying.

He doesn't like his trust being broken.

It had been days after hearing what I did.

I hadn't seen my dearest beloved in those days, and the day I saw them had been when the heir of the Kamisato clan had returned.

I had been busy as ever in sewing till I realized that I'm running out of thread. I don't have any spares, and I'm well aware that there are a few shops that sell supplies for sewing.

And so, on a lazy afternoon, I've got out of my shop in the hopes that I can catch the store to buy the supplies I needed.

The soft sound of wood hitting the pavement greeted my ears, alongside hushed murmuring and discussing with the commonfolk. I greeted a few that noticed me in passing, but they were swift to return to the people they were speaking to prior.

It was a mundane thing, really. But it was the type that felt familiar.

Turning a few corners, I managed to locate the shop I was looking for. Walking up the stairs, I waved at the lady taking care of the store—

—not before my ears perked up at the soft chattering in the distance.

My eyes trailed over to the source, and then, I see them.

My beloved maple.

I saw that they were conversing with the heir of the Kamisato clan, his hand reaching over to hand them a small gift: a small box, with the ribbon being the color of purple. I spot the gleam of gold on top of the ribbon, which eludes me to think that it is the insigna of the clan crested in gold.

How tacky.

I had to hold back the urge to stop them as their conversation was hard to discern, my focus back on the woman running the shop with the supplies I require.

"Hello, madame," I greeted, making the woman smile and nod in greeting as well. "Do you need fabric again, Kaedehara?"

I chuckled, but it was only to mask the bits of instability in my voice.

"Oh, not fabric, madame. I simply desire thread. I have ran out of red and black, and I didn't want to delay the commission I had from monsieur Lyney. Do you have any right now?"

"Red and black thread, hm? I can check at the back. Please give me a moment to look."

With a bow, the seamstress turned around to leave. With that, I let go of the breath I held and turned my gaze back to the bridge, just a few ways away from where my beloved sunset was at.

Watching the two figures, I couldn't help but simply stared at the attire that the heir wore.

Montsuki Haori Hakama: that usually means black or gray. I've known that colored kimonos were not worn with this in mind, and he certainly didn't wore anything that would be too straining.

Still, that shade of black is made of high quality. I'm not surprised if he wore it so rarely, as though to preserve the detail and its intricate work from his very own seamstress.

...

I wonder if I can take it?

Watching the two descend from the bridge, my eyes wandered back to the lady as she returned with the spools of thread, all varying in degrees of color and quality.

"Here you are, Kaedehara! These are the best I can find that fit the colors you asked for."

My eyes twinkled as I took the spools to my hands, my fingers turning and nudging the thread to see just how strong it is.

Interesting. Good quality, too... Maybe I can use this to finish that outfit I've been saving for a while.

"Thank you, madame," I thanked her, making her laugh. "Oh, it's not a problem, Kaedehara! You've done so much for this little town of ours, this is but a simple thing to repay for your efforts!"

With a nod, I paid the seamstress and turned back down to descend from the bustling upper part of the town, the sight of what happened in the bridge a bit further away bothering me from within.

No matter, Kazuha, I mused, carrying the items I required as I felt myself walk back home. Even if you want to get rid of him, it will be much too complicated. You simply need to be patient and wait till the opportunity comes.

...

Although, whoever made his clothes... I wonder if I can speak to them to inquire about their techniques.

The first case that started this was a cold one.

One that is related to a person no one knew so highly about, be it by their background, appearance, and even their name. All they were known for is being the 'tailor' for one of the clans.

There had been a lack of evidence and information about this due to how many tailors had been requested all across Inazuma at the time. It was understandable that people chalked up to them being missing as nothing more than an unfortunate case, not one worthy of being dug into.

Others had suspected that it had been associated with something else, that something (or someone) had done this deliberately. There was no evidence to this, but their claims were loud as they were bold, making it difficult to ascertain its authenticity.

However, the masses have all agreed that this was a normal occurrence. It was not one worth noting, because there had been a lot more that spoke of the same tale, always eluding to their fate being that they were murdered.

It was, unfortunately, the 'norm' of the village in the legend. A norm that, if the people of Inazuma heard it today, would have turned their heads in disgust for how abhorrent it sounds.

Still, many remained curious of the biggest what if that seem to echo in their mind.

Was the tailor associated with his sins?

The Kamisato clan has had it's ups and downs, and it isn't strange to see that they were seeking out talented tailors and workers to work under them.

What was surprising (to everyone), however, was that the head of the clan hired me to work as the Kamisato Clan's personal tailor.

The reasoning behind it was quite simple, especially with what the heir spoke to me when he and I met in the morning when I was to be summoned in the estate— due to his personal tailor (a family friend, he said) going missing for days, they were unable to track down his whereabouts and presumed that he has gone missing.

I was only hired as a "replacement" for the clan's special tailor till then, and he made it extremely clear that there was nothing else to it. Nothing that would spell the fact that I will permanently stay in that position.

Of course, to many, this may sound as an odd deal. There are so many tailors such as myself that would die to be consulted on, to work as the head of the clan's seamstress and work for their outfits. And perhaps, in their naivety, they may consider it as their efforts finally paying off in some way.

However, I have been in a clan myself before. This is nothing more if not a business deal.

A deal between one rising clan, and one whose surname has lost it's widely known heritage.

This only benefits the Kamisato Clan in the effort to save face. To save face of the potential backlash they'll deal with should any information of the missing clan's tailor be brought to light to everyone who remain blissfully ignorant of the innerworkings of the clan.

I would normally deny this kind of offer, mostly because there is no benefit for me to join and work for them. However, times have changed, and I simply reconsidered denying Kamisato Ayato's offer.

... There is a few benefits to me joining. It may be minimal, but it is better than scrounging around in the dark.

And so, I agreed to the offer.

The arrangements set for me to move was quite swift. I'm aware that that he is a man of his word, so it was quite easy for us to prepare my living arrangements and move to the estate.

With the supplies I get from the clan, it's been easy to stay put and gather information to the person I'm targeting.

... That was, until that day came.

I remember it clearly: it was the ends of fall, where the maple leaves fell more and more around the estate's grounds. This usually signified the coming of winter, so I usually savor the season by having time off to admire the scenery.

And in one of my walks, I had travelled from outside of the estate to see if things have changed.

Which, to my luck, I've encountered my darling beloved.

But just like last time, they were not alone.

In the journey of my wandering, I have seen them speak to the sibling of the older heir, Kamisato Ayaka, as they sit on the table outside of the Komore Teahouse.

From how far I am to the entrance of the teahouse, it gives me enough space to watch them interact like friends. The way that the Himegimi raised her fan to cover her face, perhaps from her eyes crinkling in amusement from what they told her...

... It was intriguing. Very intriguing.

So much so that I've felt the claws of envy grip in my chest, clutching its metal nails and making punctures on my already bleeding heart.

What a nuisance. Must you hurt me like this, darling?

I can hardly remember what happened after that. After all, my focus had been set on the two speaking to each other like they were simply companions, unknowing of what fate may bring upon them.

...

"Oh? Kazuha! I didn't notice you came to the Teahouse as well!"

My attention was swiftly pulled away from the sight of my dearest gem, and it landed on the familiar sight of olive eyes. From the appearance alone, many wouldn't think that an immigrant of Mondstadt would be a fixer.

Not even I would be able to see it happen.

However, this man had the skills to prove of his worth— after all, being Inazuma's 'fixer', he's often the go-to man to fix any and every problem that the Narukami Island and others may face.

Which makes him a glass canon— one that is volatile and unpredictable, even under the guise of a friendly face.

That is what Thoma is.

But this "glass cannon" has his weakness, and I know how to use it to my advantage.

Letting a smile slip to my lips, I chuckled, raising my hand to cover my mouth. "Well, I've been foretold by others about Komore Teahouse and it's history. I've been meaning to visit it, but I'm so busy fixing kimonos and making them to have time to spare."

A white lie, but then again, there are many of those that have been foretold in the waking of this world.

What does adding one do at this point? I'm already damned by the heavens the day I've seen the 'truth' of this fate of mine.

Just one lie wouldn't hurt, right?

"Haha, I can't blame you," the taller blonde seem to answer my query with his own, albeit he did seem to look more like he was at ease. Still, I needed to be weary; he can change sides if he so much as sensed that something is wrong.

"After all, with what the missing tailor in the clan circulating around the others in the estate, I'm even surprised that you manage to fill up in their position for months!"

... Oh? So he's noticed my talents, hm?

I shook my head.

"Oh, please. I'm just a humble tailor, Thoma," I reasoned, letting out a heavy sigh. "I have thought of asking them for advice on how they do their work, but since they're missing, all I can do is substitute for their absence."

He gave me an apologetic smile and nodded.

"That is true... I guess I'm just a bit too ecstatic to finally have someone that can fill in their role seamlessly. Lord Kamisato Ayato would've been panicking if we didn't have a replacement soon for his anniversary with his spouse."

... Spouse, huh?

"Hm... Is that so?"

I frowned in thought as I ponder over wanting to... Ask him for a favor. Sure, this one wouldn't do well on one's conscious mind if they knew, but it was simply for their sake.

It was all for them. I knew that.

It wouldn't hurt anyone if I asked Thoma to do this for me. At least, while I still have the chance to do so.

I can only hope the cannon does not think of shooting it's shot to me if I slipped up.

"Speaking of, Thoma, may I ask you for a favor?"

After the first missing case of the tailor, there had been more that were reported. The victims were all varied in their appearance, age, and even from where they used to live, be it in Narukami Island or even outside of Inazuma itself.

It was difficult to tell how many there were exactly, especially with how the legend is interpreted. Some said it was 20, while others said it was 50. This legend has been passed mouth to mouth, so details were not a key figure for a few to remember well.

However, every iteration has the same detail. The victims all had the same similarity as the tailor that simply went "missing".

All of them, in some way, were associated with certain individuals— one of them being his maple, where a few commented that they were the apple of the crimson man's eye.

From the legend and how it has been told, it is safe to assume that the motive was obvious from the first missing case.

It is akin of an open secret, if said secret was twisted to fit his ideals.

"Haven't you heard?"

"What? What is it?"

"The fixer, Thoma… He went missing just few days ago."

"What!?"

…

Ah, so he went missing like the others?

My ears had perked up at the news that we were told. Although Thoma is one many people never thought of being a 'target', the fact he went missing is... Odd.

"Perhaps he had done something," I heard one of the servants whisper amongst themselves, looking rather cautious. "After all, he's been very privy on a few things..."

"Yes, but he isn't the person I'd expect to vanish like that—"

"Shh—! People are going to hear you, you know! Keep it down!"

Hearing their footsteps echo as they take their leave, I turned back to what I have been working on. The sight of the kimono graced my vision as I raised the needle.

I began to sew the tears on it, letting out a soft hum while I fixed the black fabric from it's horrible state.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut—

"Sir Kaedehara? Someone is looking for you."

...!

I felt the needle prick my finger, but I didn't say anything. With a quiet hum, I raised my head to see someone speak to me, their face grim as they shifted on their feet.

Ah.

Despite the feeling of blood pour onto the fabric, I smiled and nodded, putting down the fabric of the kimono I was fixing.

"I'll be right there. Please tell them to wait for me."

"Really? Oh, thank Archons. I'll get going."

Watching them take their leave, my eyes flit over to my scissors.

Still as sharp as ever, I mused, pushing myself to stand up before fixing my attire. Mayhaps today won't need it to be sharpened.

For now, I had to see what the client wants from me. It would simply be a shame if I leave them alone for far, far too long.

Mayhaps they're here to inquire about the kimono I made. I made sure to add my personal touch to it.

...

As I walked to where my client sought to look for me, I see a familiar sight befell in the grounds of the Kamisato Estate.

The himegimi is currently speaking to my betrothed like they are close companions, and the magician (Lyney was his name, I recall), had been listening to their discussion at hand.

His eyes seem to lit up when he saw me, offering me a welcoming grin.

"You must be the tailor that my sister assigned, aren't you?" he asked when I was close enough to hear him, making me chuckle. Taking a seat across, I simply nodded, keeping my professional smile and demeanor in fear of offending him.

"Indeed, I am that tailor. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Haha, please, the pleasure is all mine!"

The magician shook my hand with mine, and the meeting went as smoothly as one may expect. Although, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander sometimes to where my lover is.

You were speaking to Ayaka like she's a friend of yours. I shan't stop you, darling, but perhaps you aren't aware of the pain you put me through.

Still, I couldn't afford to raise my voice, nor can I think of hurting you with my actions.

How unfortunate. Mayhaps I need to teach you a lesson myself, my angel.

If there was one thing that the legend failed to elaborate, it is the state of the missing people. However, there were... Creative liberties to those that began to see if the legend was true; or, pray tell, associated with any real life events.

To the eyes of others, going missing is a serious deal. It sparks a lot of ideas for what could've happened to them, and especially if they are alive or dead.

Albeit many shrugged off the prior cases, this one was serious. After all, the one that went 'missing' is the fixer of Narukami Island— Thoma, the immigrant in the nation of lightning.

It is, after all, what sparked the eventual downfall of the crimson-eyed tailor and his beloved. Many had thought this was the turning point, but those that did were found to be wrong.

This, after all, was simply the beginning of such downfall. But it wasn't to his lover, the missing residents, or even his companions.

It was to himself, when he used the blades to commit a sin undeserving of forgiveness.

The news that brought upon the missing Himegimi greeted the Kamisato estate that day.

I remember how people were in a disarray. They were much more shaken as they tried to get any sort of lead to where she is, and for some, they were already thinking of quitting.

The estate is already shaken from when Thoma went missing, but now that the young heiress has up and disappeared— especially in winter— it was in chaos.

While I sew the kimonos handed to me, there was an obi that laid on the pile by my right. It was a bit worn, but it can still be saved.

I needed to fix it, and give it my own personal touch. That way, it wouldn't look as though it had been abandoned by it's past owner.

Alas, the noise is getting to me. I could feel the silk resting on my bandaged hand slip every once in a while, if it weren't for how tight I've been holding the fabric.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I needed to put my focus on what I'm doing. I needed to focus on the job.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I mustn't let blood nor dirt stain my creations.

That is what my mother taught me.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, se—

"I apologize if the estate is in a disarray, detective," I hear a familiar voice speak amongst the hushed and panicked whispers. "The estate hasn't been the same ever since my retainer and my younger sibling had gone missing."

"Oh, it's alright! I'm sure this matter is too serious for you and the others to keep things organized."

"Haha... You can say that it is. Now, it's just right this way..."

... A detective is in the estate. How curious.

It wasn't right to snoop, but I was curious. Curious enough to have finished the kimono I was fixing before I stood to leave my quarters.

The others paid no heed as I followed after the two to Ayato's room, too focused to do what they were assigned to even bat an eye when I got close to where they were heading.

It was only when they were inside that I've stopped and simply bid my time, my focus set on what was happening by the shoji leading to his office. And it didn't took long till I hear things from the other side.

"Ah, so you think that someone is out for you?"

"Yes. Although I am normally adept in figuring out who it could be that's causing this to happen, I can't put heads or tails with how their presence eludes me."

"Man alive... And you said that it started when they went missing?"

"... Yes, detective."

"I see... Man alive, that sounds like it wasn't just a single, one-off case, then. I can help you, but this will take a while if there's no leads."

"I see. It's fine, detective. I'll pay you enough when you figure out where my retainer and sister are. I could hardly think that someone would take them without such consequence."

"Oh, no worries. With me around, no criminal will get out unscathed— I'll make sure to bring them here when I figure out who did this."

...

I see.

Perhaps its about time I have to settle this with him.

There was a time where I have thought that things will change.

Where these cases will be laid forgotten, perhaps even unresolved with the lack of hints.

I spent weeks on end, keeping my tracks short and erasing any leads that can lead towards me again.

I spent so, so long trying so desperately to hide anything resembling my crimes.

But alas... He found me.

It was the time where I had to dispose of those bodies. Although I had no heart to bury them under nature, I was not above treating them as though they were simply people.

Even in death, I wanted to make them feel like they look peaceful. Although, perhaps simply sewing their wounds left by my scissors was not something I can treat.

In the middle of the night, I was carrying the Himegimi outside of the abandoned houses I tend to with her retainer, Thoma. I had thought of letting her rest someplace else. Her attire has been sullied, and I needed to keep the two somewhere where no one can find them.

Corpses rot over time, and if it was possible, letting them turn to nothing in the likes of Tsurumi Island will be enough for my weary heart to rest.

With how adept I am of keeping my tracks hidden, I had thought no one would be able to tail on me. But alas, due to the missing cases I've caused, perhaps I wasn't expecting this to happen.

"I knew you'd be here, Kaedehara Kazuha."

I simply paused upon hearing his voice, my head craning back to see that it was Ayato. Despite how composed he looks, I can tell that the nights he spent trying to search for his beloved sibling and retainer wore him down.

His once flawless appearance was nothing but sullied, his attire feeling like its simply hanging off of him, and the way he staggered while looking at me without a shred of restrain is new. Raw for such a heir.

"And that body..." he murmured, his eyes glaring daggers when he found out who it was.

Perhaps it's her dress that makes her recognizable. Or the hair.

"... I thought I've erased everything that can lead back to me," I spoke, sighing as I placed Ayaka's body down. "What a shame. I was quite close to erasing any traces and signs of their whereabouts. It would be nice to only have them be marked as 'missing', not dead."

"So... You admit to it, then?" the heir asked, walking over with stride. "That you have done this, Kaedehara?"

I simply said nothing.

And I knew that was enough of a confirmation for him.

"I knew something was wrong with you," I heard him speak, which caught my attention. Turning my body to finally face him, I watched as he scoffed and continued, "After all, a man as serene as you often had the worst to hide."

"Oh? How curious. Why would you say that?"

I saw his lips curl to a smile.

"Why, I had someone tail after you," he answered, his tone sounding so blunt and his demeanor became more like he's simply 'teaching' me something. "Someone that is associated with the clan. I'm sure you know who it is."

... How uncouth.

"I see... And you confronted me now? For what?"

"A duel."

He unsheathed his blade, and raised it towards my direction.

"I do not usually participate in these, but I'd like to honor your tradition. If I win, you turn yourself in to the Tenryou Commission. Confess all of your crimes, and we shall call it even."

"... Very well."

I raised my own blade, as a sign to his own.

"I needn't state my own terms if I lose, as I can't let you get out alive. Now, let us settle this matter... To each of our graves."

Usually, such details cannot be recreated from interpretation alone.

However, this one was the few exceptions to it's inevitable fate due to it's popularity.

The legend had focused on keeping the existence and ties of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor up for the listener's interpretation. This scene, however, was directly associated to a case that had been tackled many years ago.

The case went as such: each resident of a town goes missing each week. No one knows when it happens, as the day is often random. The victims of these disappearances are also random, so no one could derive from it being a 'pattern'.

No matter how young or old one is, their gender, their living conditions, and even their past... When they least expect it, they simply vanish. Erased.

The only times where the victim was found, several eye-witnesses had different iterations. Some said that the bodies were buried, while others found it floating by riverbanks and the side of the sea.

But the most common— and widely known, of course— was that each victim were made to a doll.

Their limbs were nothing if not sewn with thread, cuts of various degrees being patched with thread of similar color to 'mask' it's oddity. Their eyes were closed, but those that were unfortunate to open it were only greeted with it being turned to the back of their heads.

In some victims, several pieces of their possession were taken. However, most kept theirs on their person, and were seen to not be tampered with.

No one knows what drove someone to this degree. No one can even comprehend such a fact that it was entirely possible.

But to someone who's mind was twisted to the point of no return... It was.

This case had a name, but every resident of Inazuma refused to speak of it. Each time one does, they were told of the legend behind this case.

They were told of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, and they were warned of one thing.

"Do not look at him or his betrothed. If you do, you're as good as dead."

...

It had been a year since our fight happened.

I remember the chaos that occurred back when I finally erased that man. Although it did left his body in an undesirable state, I still fixed and sew him up so that he didn't look as such.

Even in death, I wish to give the heir some form of dignity. That, in some way, I wish to give him his final respects.

After all, he had simply misunderstood my intentions. He didn't knew that I was out for one person from the very beginning.

The downfall of the Kamisato Clan was imminent at that point. I've seen many flee, and witnessed the tragedy befall on the Narukami Island. Many of the people I've met had simply ran off to seek refuge, the terror grasping and choking them like they were unable to think.

However, I remain clear. And I simply continued to do my work diligently.

I have been working on something... Special. And with one last snip of my bloodied scissors, it was now complete.

My final and life-long work, all laid across and now in my hands. The fabric I chose was rather difficult to sew. I should have known that human skin would be too hard, depending on where I retrieved it from.

Dying it in black, I wrapped the obi that had been sewn with the use of the Himegimi's locks, and retrieved the crest of the Kamisato Clan. Adorning it on my person, I viewed myself at the mirror to see my handiwork.

"Finally," I murmured, feeling an odd sensation in my chest as I wore the fruits of my labor. "It is now complete."

With the chaos guiding me and masking my presence, I fled to head by the mountain.

I knew where you were bound to go.

I knew of your crimes long before you knew me.

I didn't paid much attention if anyone saw me. I didn't care if blood simply poured from my attire and to the ground that I'm walking on. I could hardly give a damn if some realized of my crimes in that blasted estate.

I had my scissors with me, and I only wish to fulfill my last wish before I leave this cursed world.

You murdered my family, [Name].

You were the one who caused that fire all those years ago.

I remember those burns you gave me. I remember just how much of a coward you were, fleeing from the scene you caused yourself.

How could I lose everything? And how can you keep your family?

No. No, that mustn't happen. I must set this right.

As your 'lover', I'll make sure you understand what you did wrong.

The culprit of the legend was caught, at least by the end.

All of the townsfolk had banded over to help the detective figure out who had caused such a stir, and it was only because of one eye-witness that said everything. That simply told the truth of the man behind it all.

It was the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, the one who was gripped with envy, that caused such a massacre to occur.

When they found what became of the last victim, his 'lover', they became a doll of his own. After killing them, the legend proceeded to speak of how he had simply 'sown' their skin alongside his, making them his perfect beloved doll.

One of the iterations even mentioned that his unnamed lover was in a Shiromuku outfit, eyes gouged so they may "never look at another man". At least, from what the tale has concluded.

Because of the severity of his crime, the tailor was sent to be on his death row. When the detective tried to get information out of him, they found out that he has lost his mind.

He became a shell of the brilliant man they knew, laughing and speaking that he has finally fulfilled his desire.

Even when he was dragged onto the guillotine, that day was marked as the end of the massacre, and those who were alive spoke of the man's chilling laughter up until his head was cut off.

...

And that was the end of the "Crimson-Eyed Tailor" and his legend.

Or, more accurately, the history of the known "Dead Man's Heart" case, and how Kaedehara Kazuha murdered the one he "loved" for revenge.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

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atlasofthestaars · 7 months

Text

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .011

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NOTE: HERE WE ARE Y’ALL!! THE START OF THE OUTWORLD TOURNAMENT ARC!

Some context: For the sake of having more interactions and letting me write more I’m extending the tournament to have a fight per day + a bit more at the end. So basically the outworld tourney will be 7 days for each fight + a day or two more <3

Havik made it in as a love interest! His poll was so chaotic, which I guess makes sense? Haha, Ashrah made it in too, and she was by far the closest we’ve had to the 50/50! Now that Ashrah’s chapter is done, it means that’s our completed love interest roster! I have updated all the tags/the intro to fit this!

Even though the poll for chapter 10 is done on Tumblr, I do need to still calculate the votes from AO3 too, so that means it’s mainly between Johnny vs Bi Han, so I’ll announce the winner of that next chapter.

Here’s a genuine thank you all for reading this <3 I am overwhelmed by all the love and support you guys give, you’re all so amazing! Also haha sorry how long this took to finally get out.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO EXPERIENCES OUTWORLD FOR THE FIRST TIME

You barely had time to decipher the memories you had unlocked.

You, after all, had other duties to attend to. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself. The tournament was a week away after all, so you had a lot of last minute duties you wanted to wrap up before going away for a little over a week. Or at least, that long assuming Raiden would win his challenges. You were thankful for the last minute tasks you had found to busy yourself with. You weren’t quite sure if you really wanted to dwell on what you had seen.

It, in all honesty, scared you.

How else were you supposed to respond to suddenly seeing a bunch of gore and having a major part of your backstory unlocked? You were handed the burden of learning that you went through, and yet it only added more questions. Throughout the week you considered confiding in Liu Kang about it all: telling him how you’re terrified of what you saw, and how you’re sorry you lied.

But you just couldn’t.

Fear grasped at you, sewing your mouth shut. It wasn’t as if you were afraid of Liu Kang hating you at first. You’re certain Liu Kang would allow you to tell him your tale with no judgement. You’d even bet on your own life that he would even comfort you for what you saw. He was far too kind to you. But then your mind kept on spiraling over the idea of what happens after.

He’d ask why you lied. Then he’d find out you’ve always lied about your memories, or at least not told him about them. It was a slippery slope. And there was just a lot of things to unpack there that would surely fracture the relationship between you and the god. And, while you weren’t taking advantage of him, the selfish voice in your head whispered how you couldn’t ruin the only chance at Outworld and finally find out more.

You came up with a solution to calm your nerves, even just a bit, that maybe you should finally tell him after the trip…assuming you got the courage to.

You weren’t sure if you trusted yourself on your little solution though, after all your mind poisoned your thoughts, still telling you that it was better you lied to him and to continue to lie to him. It had worked out so far, why change things? After all, you had a gut feeling that Liu Kang was keeping back secrets from you too. It was just a gut feeling, but you trusted your gut. But you also trusted Liu Kang. It was a debate you kept on going back and forth on, and could never figure out a conclusion to.

You felt like you had a right to keep these things secret. He wasn’t obligated to know every single thing about you. The god probably had a reason to keep things from you as well, just like you did. You weren’t obligated to know everything either, even if you so desperately wanted to. Still, you selfishly decided for now it was fair to keep your own secrets. It was to protect yourself.

You were definitely visiting Madam Bo after this trip, maybe you needed some good advice on this one.

“Are you overworking yourself?” Liu Kang inquired as you passed by one afternoon. You had been going to and fro, trying to distract yourself. You stopped, the authority in his voice making you pause. You shifted in place, avoiding looking at him as you cast your gaze to the side.

“No, I haven’t.” You had told him, which had been partially true. While you had been running around like a chicken whose head had been cut off, you hadn’t been over doing it. At least, by your standards. You took in a deep breath as you felt Liu Kang grab one of your hands. You looked up in surprise as his hand squeezed yours gently.

“Good.” He said, his voice full of warmth. Your stomach squirmed as you were filled with guilt at the look he gave you. A smile was on his lips. His thumb gently rubbed a few circles on the back of your hand, as if he were casting a protective spell on you. “I’m proud of how well you trained Raiden and the others. I am certain Raiden will do great at the tournament.”

You were at a loss of words, feeling your chest tighten. You nodded instead, and Liu Kang dropped your hand. He gave you a pat on the back as he passed you, walking off to what you assumed was the Wu Shi to help Raiden. You felt…colder. You supposed it was simply a side effect of Liu Kang being a fire god and him no longer being by your side.

Liu Kang made keeping secrets difficult.

Still, despite your worries, the week breezed by fast. And now you found yourself standing in front of the Fire Temple, waiting for your students and the monks to arrive. You swallowed your nerves, trying to force yourself to feel more relaxed. This was supposed to be exciting after all.

To your delight, you weren’t waiting long. The monks first arrived, and you directed them happily to the waiting area for whenever Liu Kang was ready. Many of them had regarded you warmly. Then, you smiled as you saw your four students come and arrive.

“Excited?” You inquired as they drew closer. You scanned them, noting their choice of outfits. It had been a while since you’ve seen them wear anything other than their most casual clothes or their Shaolin uniforms. It was a bit odd, but it was a breath of fresh air. The outfits suited them well.

“I’m excited, albeit a bit overwhelmed and nervous.” Raiden admitted a mixture of nervousness and a genuine smile on his face. He tipped his head forward, his straw hat obscuring the look on his face. Despite that, you forced your gaze on his head, trying to avoid the amulet that sent fear down your spine. You wanted to look at anything but that right now

“Psh, you’ll be fine.” Kung Lao scoffed, placing a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. He shot you a look of disbelief as he gestured to the new champion. “He’s been in his head about this whole thing, can you believe it?” He looked back over to his friend, shaking him slightly with the hand on his shoulder. “You have to be more confident. If you can beat me you can handle them all.” You smiled at his encouragement nodding.

“Kung Lao’s right, Raiden.” You told him, crossing your arms. “There’s a reason why you’re our champion.” You watched as Raiden’s head lifted up, a more confident expression on his face, though it was still tinged with a bit of nervousness. “Be confident in your abilities, otherwise I will start to think I’m a bad teacher.” You jested, adding on a small chuckle.

“You are anything but that.” Raiden commented, making your smile grow just a bit wider. The others nodding as well warmed your heart. You shooed them off after that short moment, yet one of them hung back to linger. While the Fengjian farmers were too caught up talking to each other to notice, you noted the side eye Kenshi shot Johnny as he hung back. Odd.

“You aren’t exempt from waiting with the others, you know.” You said, raising an eyebrow as you eyed Johnny. The actor shot you his signature grin, which you both knew didn’t work on you. With a confident stride, Johnny slung an arm over your shoulder and pulled out his phone. You raised an eyebrow at the casual contact, but didn’t shrug him off. Over the last few months, ever since the late night discussion, you’ve grown used to the causal contact.

You just assumed Johnny was getting more friendly with you.

“I know, teach.” Johnny said, causally scrolling through his phone. You tried to keep your gaze away from it out of respect, but the temptation was strong. “But I think I have something that might interest you.” He said, sending you a sly look. You simply looked at him with an unimpressed look, and he took it as his cue to continue on. “I hear you and hat boy had a bet?” He inquired, still showing off his pearly whites to you.

“And what of it?” You asked, placing a hand on your hip as you sent him a skeptical look. Your head tilted as you thought of why he would bring it up. You figured it wasn’t the oddest thing he knew about it, Kung Lao had probably bragged about his victory to the group. You had settled that you would make him his feast after the trip.

“Well, what if I told you I might have some video evidence that might please you?” He said, his voice dripping with confidence. Your eyebrows raised again, and you pursed your lips, not knowing what to make of his offer. “Listen, it’s all legit. I recorded the hat kid and thunder lad discussing something and you might be interested in seeing it.” He egged you on.

“And why are you telling me this?” You inquired, looking at Johnny with the same skeptical look, not quite yet taking the bait.

“Look, I like you teach, so I wanna cut you a sweet deal.” The actor said, and you knew he was trying to work up his charisma. “You get the ultimate evidence towards Kung Lao so you rectify your little bet and I get a little reward too.” Johnny offered, waving his phone with a paused video on the screen. Now he was deliberately showing you the screen.

You squinted at the phone. You could see the back of Kung Lao, he seemed to be talking to Raiden who seemed to have a somewhat disapproving look on his face. You looked more carefully. It seemed to be the same day of the exam, so it would fall under the betting time.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What do you want?” You asked, a small sigh leaving your lips as you finally relented. You saw Johnny’s grin grow wider as he raised his eyebrows in a cocky manner. His smile turned into a self assured smirk, thinking he had you in his trap.

“I saw from tattoo that you started hooking him up with some sweet meals.” He started, and you blinked in surprise at the topic of conversation. You nodded, then let him speak more. “I think that little feast you were planning to make that hat boy, you give to me…and Madam Bo’s special tea.”

“I’ll give you Madam Bo’s special tea and just one meal.” You counter offered quickly, crossing your arms. You watched as Johnny Cage sent you an offended look. You held back a chuckle of amusement at the expression.

“After my generous deal?” The American asked, his face scrunching up. “No way, wildstyle!” He scoffed, a small pout on his lips. You shook your head in amusement as you sent him a look.

“You may think you have the high ground here with your little offer, but you gave me more information than you thought you did.” You said, pointing at his phone screen. His eyes glanced over to the paused screen. “I can just ask Raiden if Kung Lao cut his finger.” You pointed out. “I think he’d be more likely to tell me if I just asked.”

“Hm…” Johnny stared at you for a good long moment. You could see the gears turning in his head at your point. You assumed he had plenty of experience in this sort of thing. “You think that golden boy would betray his best buddy like that?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but I can always offer him what I offered youI’m certain he’d take the deal and you’d be left with nothing.” You point out with a shrug, trying to hold out a little on your bluff. You weren’t entirely sure if Raiden would take your offer, but it was worth a bluff.

“Fine.” Johnny groaned with a pout, his head dropping. His head brushed your shoulder, and you rolled your eyes in a playful way. “You drive a hard bargain. You ever consider becoming an agent for Hollywood?” He inquired, tilting his head to look at you, his cheek still resting on your shoulder. “I could use someone like you.”

“Hah, funny offer.” You laughed, and Johnny’s smile returned in a more sincere way. “I think I’d rather act in one of your movies than become whatever your agent is.” You remarked, which grew Johnny’s smile even more. You used your hand to move his head off your shoulder. “Chin up, Johnny.”

“Really now?” He said, a hint of amusement and hope in his voice. “I’ll be holding you up to that statement, you know.” Johnny said, nudging you a bit with his shoulder.

“I didn’t commit to anything, Cage.” You pointed out with a small shake of your head. “Now show me the video you were bragging so much about.” You commanded, looking from the actor to the paused video he had been waving in front of your face. With a small smile, he tapped the screen, unpausing the video.

You watched as Kung Lao approached Raiden, talking to him about something. His back was to the camera, so it was a bit hard to see what he was exactly doing, but you can glean enough from what he was saying. You could see him, or at least you assumed, trace the brim of the hat. Then you heard an “ow” and the man winced.

You watched with a slow smirk spreading across your lips as he froze, before quickly telling Raiden that he “didn’t see anything”. Raiden looked very confused at the sudden command, which prompted Kung Lao to tell him that he would just “tell him later”. All he had to do was just not tell you about it.

“There, as promised.” Johnny told you, a cheeky grin sent your way. You returned the look before peering back down at the video, which continued to play, showing Kung Lao now showing off his hat. “Aren’t you glad I’m looking out for you, wildstyle?”

“I’m honored.” You replied sarcastically, playfully rolling your eyes. “A person who was actually looking out for me would tell me without wanting something in return, you know.” You pointed out. “Still grateful though. I have to ask, why were you interested in my cooking all of a sudden?”

“Hey, nothing comes for free.” Johnny said, shrugging his shoulders causally. “You’re welcome, by the way.” The American paused, humming as he pursed his lips. “Well, it started when I caught tattoo holding one of your meals. It looked delicious, he didn’t let me try though.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “And then Kung Lao began bragging that he’d get a full feast from you and well…” He shook his phone, and you connected the dots.

“I get it.” You said, nodding. You realized how long the two of you had been standing around for. You send him a small smirk and you let out a small laugh. “You could have just asked for food if you really wanted it, but I appreciate the help.” You admitted, before shrugging off his arm and walking ahead, gesturing for him to follow. “Now come on.”

“Wait, you would really?” Johnny called out after you, following you closely. He raised his eyebrows, scanning your face with a hint of suspicion. “Where’s the catch here?” He inquired, the suspicion leaking into his voice.

“You’ve known me long enough, Johnny.” You told him, looking over to him with an amused look. “There’s no catch. I don’t mind doing that kind of stuff for you guys.” You said, which was true. You wouldn’t mind doing anything for them as long as it made them happy. You always were too much of a people pleaser.

“Yeah, I should have known.” The actor said with a sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking over at you. “You’re way too generous, you know that?” He told you, which led to you letting out a small chuckle of surprise. “Here, use this to stick it to Kung Lao, just give it back before we head out.” You caught Johnny’s phone when he tossed it over to you, then he jogged ahead.

You smiled as you held the phone. While he wasn’t the most protective over it, you still felt a sense of trust put in you due to you holding the precious object. With a little more pep in your step as well as the determination of a person with a vengeance, you walked over to Kung Lao, tapping his shoulder. You hid the phone behind your back as the man turned around.

“Yes?” The former farmhand inquired, sending you a confident smile. You had a feeling he was still feeling a bit smug after “winning” the bet. You let a slow smirk spread across your lips, then your eyes fell to look at his shirt. Your brain paused as you took a moment to stare at the dragon design on the left side.

Was that the same design as the necklace you were wearing? You wondered over that fact for a moment as you realized, yes…yes it was. Your smirk turned into a smile for a moment as you realized this. It felt…nice to be matching with him.

“I heard from a little birdie that you lied.” You said, breaking your gaze away from his shirt. Your smile turned into a smirk again. You watched as Kung Lao looked at you with pure confusion. “I’m referring to the bet that we had between us.” You clarified. Then, you watched as he sent a look over to Raiden, who simply shrugged.

“Me? Lie?” Kung Lao inquired, raising his eyebrows as he pretended to not know what you were talking about. He crossed his arms, his head tilting upwards. “Hah! I would never.” He said, his self confident front holding up. You would have believed it too, had you not witnessed the video that Johnny had given you.

“I wouldn’t lie Kung Lao, that’s not something neither I or the monks taught you.” You chided playfully. An offended look appeared on the man’s face, then it turned into surprise as you revealed the phone you had hidden behind your back. “Want to confess now? Or should I show the damning evidence I was so preciously given?”

“I…uh…” Kung Lao floundered, searching for an excuse to spin the tale in his favor. You assumed from the screen he already knew what the video was going to show. After a few moments, he sighed in resignation. “Okay. you got me.” He admitted, hanging his head. You nodded slowly, crossing your arms. “Sorry?” He said, giving a half apology with a small shrug with an apologetic smile. You let out a laugh.

“Apology accepted, though I thought you’d have more honor in a bet since you do it so much.” You pointed out, which prompted a somewhat guilty look from the man. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you do anything bad.” You told him, the wicked smile spreading across your lips said otherwise. You watched as Kung Lao looked like he regretted his actions, though you did hear him mutter under his breath he would definitely be getting Johnny back for this betrayal.

“I see we have all gathered.” Liu Kang spoke up, walking up to the group that gathered. His gaze swept over the group that you had gathered, an approving look on his face. You noticed Kenshi and Johnny walked up beside you, and you handed over the phone back to the actor. “It is time.” He told you all, leading you all into a pavilion.

Excitement filled you as Liu Kang began to summon the portal. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Johnny began to record the process. However, as the portal began to form, your excitement turned into a massive headache, and you let out a small hiss as you clutched your head. This was worse than any headache you’ve had recently.

“Are you okay?” Kenshi whispered, leaning towards you. He placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked over, trying to send him a convincing smile. He didn’t buy it, and a look of concern remained on his face as he looked at you.

“I’m fine.” You managed to say, your smile wavering as your head pounded with searing pain. “I just get massive migraines sometimes.” You lie, the same lie you’ve always used whenever someone that wasn’t Liu Kang caught you having these pains.

“I see.” Kenshi said, yet his hand remained on your shoulder as a source of comfort. He tried to send you a reassuring smile. It helped a bit, even if it didn’t alleviate the pain at all. His hand on your shoulder was doing more to help you. It felt like an anchor to the real world amidst all the pain. You leaned slightly towards the swordsman, allowing yourself to temporarily lean against him. He let you, his grip growing firmer.

The light of the portal flashed and pulsed, orange light shining on all of your faces. Had you not been in pain, you figured you would have appreciated how beautiful it was. But now, it just served to add to your nausea. You breathed in, trying to go through the pain. You could only hope it only got better.

“Outworld can be both alien and intoxicating to Earthrealmers.” Liu Kang spoke, and you forced yourself to focus on his voice to drown out the pain. “Do not become drawn in.” The fire god warned. You wondered briefly, if that extended to you. You nodded slowly, regretting it as it felt like you were beginning to sway. Kenshi righted you, using his hand to make sure you didn’t fall over. “You must focus on the task at hand.”

Soon enough, the portal was completed. With confident strides, Liu Kang entered the portal composed of pulsing and swirling orange energy. You followed in tow, Kenshi’s hand staying on your shoulder for only a few more moments to make sure you were alright before dropping. You bit the inside of your cheek and clenched your fists, trying to abate the pain.

You barely noticed Johnny pointing the camera your way. With a huff, Kenshi shoved the camera away, sending him a look. This made the actor send him a look of disbelief at the action. You managed to send the ex gang member a grateful look before you stepped to the otherside of the portal.

For a moment, you experienced nothingness. You couldn’t see, hear, feel, or sense anything in general. Then, there was a searing pain that engulfed your entire body. You tried to scream, but it was as if you lost your voice. It was as if your headache had spread across your form and had been multiplied by ten. Thankfully, it was only for a moment and then it disappeared.

It seemed the pain dissipating had taken the bulk of your headache, leaving you only with a dull discomfort. It was akin to a slight pressure in your head, nowhere near as bad. It was an annoyance, but it wasn’t unbearable anymore.

After a moment, you found yourself emerging on the other side of the portal. Your eyes widened as you looked around, wondering if anyone else had gone through an excruciating experience like you. As you watched their reactions, you realized they must have not. The others were immersed in the beauty of the world, and you doubted they would look as relaxed as that if they had gone through the same thing. So, you forced yourself to focus on the area around you

Gone was the desolate and war torn Outworld that your brain knew. Instead, you were greeted with a world full of beauty and life. You felt torn. You were happy it looked to be thriving as much as Liu Kang had told you. And yet, at the same time, you wondered if this world was going to be able to offer you anything useful to your past with how…different it was.

Still, you found yourself in awe of the area. It looked like a garden was surrounding the portal, which seemed to be integrated beautifully into the architecture. Whites, purples, and greens were the main color scheme of the area, giving it a regal vibe.

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kanas anymore.” Johnny remarked as he filmed the area, and you recalled when Johnny had put on that movie during one of the movie nights. You felt a bit happy that you could actually recognize one of his movie references.

As your gaze wandered from the area itself to what was in front of you, your eyes finally settled on two figures dressed in pink and blue respectively. They stood amongst dozens of guards, all notably women. On the stairs, there was a beautifully woven purple carpet. It vaguely reminded you of the red carpet Johnny had bragged so much about.

Your mind had a hazy realization that you recognized the two standing upon the steps. But through the dull pain, no memories popped up. You figured it was the result of too many memories trying to break free, much like when you had first trained the four champions.

“Oh my…are those?” Johnny Cage spoke, as the two figures approached, walking causally down the steps. He looked over to the group, assessing their reactions as he kept the camera facing forward. The others, predictably, did not share the actor’s sentiments.

“Empress Sindel’s daughters, yes.” Liu Kang replied, a hint of sterness in his voice. Taking that as your cue, you nudged Johnny, indicating to him to knock it off. Of course, the actor just sent you a pout. Liu Kang also looked back to send him a look.

“They do not disappoint.” Johnny continued to comment, earning another nudge from you. “Okay! Okay! I get it!” He hissed out. Your eyes landed on the guard closest to you. You and her made eye contact for a moment, which led to another feeling of familiarity hitting you. How many people would you meet that you knew previously?

“Please be respectful.” You told Johnny Cage, leaning towards him to whisper it in a discreet way. “We’re here as guests, and I’d rather not get on anyone’s bad side.” You said, giving him a pointed look. He sighed but nodded.

“Fine.” The actor agreed, holding back the childish urge to roll his eyes at your chiding. “Won’t stop me from at least admiring them, though.” Johnny relented, his gaze lingering on you for a few moments. He looked you up and down, much to your confusion before returning his gaze back to the Outworlders.

As you all stopped in front of the blue and pink duo, Liu Kang bowed. Quickly, everyone followed suit, replicating the gesture.You focused your attention on the duo, trying to work out who they were. They definitely looked familiar…and they seemed near identical.

Ah. While your memories weren’t popping up, you made the connection. Liu Kang had pointed out these were the princesses. The pink one must be the older one, Mileena…which meant the blue one must be Kitana. As you recalled their names, your brain seemed to buzz, the dull pain strengthening temporarily in intensity. It was as if memories were fighting to rise to the surface. You definitely knew these two before.

“Lord Liu Kang, welcome.” Mileena spoke, nodding her head. A cordial smile was placed on her lips, and her eyes seemed to assess the group in front of her. Her sister also seemed to scan the crowd, though a polite smile did not reach her lips. Instead, an analytical look was on hers. You assumed she was already trying to find who it was that was to fight Outworld’s champions.

“Thank you, Princess Mileena.” Liu Kang said, a warm smile on his lips. You watched as the guard that had been by the side strode over to be closer to the princesses. You concentrated on the princesses’ faces, trying to see if trying to force any memories would help clear your head. It didn’t. If anything, it just increased the pressure of the pain, so you stopped trying to do it.

“You remember my sister?” Mileena inquired. She leaned back, looking over to Kitana who looked back at her in acknowledgement.

“Of course.” Liu Kang replied. He then bowed once more. “Princess Kitana.” The other princess acknowledged his courtesy with a nod of her own. “May I introduce my companion,” The fire god spoke your name, and you bowed slightly, showing the same respect as Liu Kang did. “Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Kenshi Takahashi, and Earthrealm’s champion, Raiden.”

“I hope you’re prepared, Raiden.” Kitana spoke this time. An air of confidence filled her voice as she scrutinized your student. “Our champions are determined to win.” She said, her gaze falling upon her sister. You knew very well that Mileena was supposed to be one of the champions, as told to you by Liu Kang. Liu Kang had put himself in charge of preparing the champion, since you’ve never seen the fighting prowess of the Outworlders yourself.

“None more so than me.” The older twin said, self assuredness in her tone. Her gaze was steady, almost as if trying to intimidate Raiden with it alone. “It’s been too long since we’ve known victory.” She reminded the group, and you could tell she was determined to be the one to reclaim it.

“Princess Mileena.” The guard you saw from earlier spoke up. There was a hint of urgency within her tone as she spoke. She had gone up the steps to get closer to the princess. “We should be on our way, Empress Sindel awaits.”

“Thank you, Tanya.” Mileena replied. The name Tanya struck a chord in you. That was definitely familiar as well. You couldn’t tell if it was a blessing or a curse that you would be in such close proximity with people you supposedly knew before. “Follow me, please.”

You all followed the trio of women, walking down a hall that was flanked by guards. Mileena was leading the group. At the end, a line of royal carriages awaited. You soon found yourselves been split up into small groups to ride the carriages. You were in the first group, along with Liu Kang, Raiden, and Mileena. The guard from earlier, Tanya, took the reins.

As the others slipped in, you considered where to sit. It wasn’t until the princess graciously gestured to the spot next to her that you allowed yourself to sit next to her. You didn’t want to be rude and assume, but you were grateful she didn’t seem to mind. You sat across from Raiden, with Liu Kang diagonally from you.

As soon as everyone boarded their carriages, the carriage line set off. It was preceded by a joyous Shokan who played the drums. It was quite nice to see a man so enthusiastic over his job. The other guards, the Umgadi you recalled, flanked the carriages as you set off. You watched with amazement as you passed through Sun Do. It was colorful and alive, and you awkwardly smiled and at the people who gazed at you from the streets. You weren’t used to being marveled like this.

The people on the streets were dressed up in bright garb, and vendors were going around trying to take advantage of the festivities and trying to sell more of their wares. You even spotted some Outworlders cheering as they toasted their mugs together.

“Those are Centaurians.” Raiden said, the wonder clear in his voice. Raiden also had excitement on his face, though you supposed it was due to the novelty of it all. He did not share the same feelings as you did at that moment. “And Shokan!”A wide grin spread across his face, and it was all too easy to match his. His energy was contagious.

“The six armed being as Naknadans.” Mileena informed, looking over the crowd. You wondered for a moment if she was simply informing him, or if the man, in his enthusiasm, had mixed up the Outworld races.

“The monks described them. But seeing them in person…” Raiden said, returning his gaze to Mileena to acknowledge her words towards him. He was unable to keep his attention on her for long, as he returned his attention back to the crowd soon enough.

“I see Her Majesty once again spares no expense on the festival.” Liu Kang remarks, having observed the colorful atmosphere in silence. You raised your eyebrows, now wondering how the city looked without all the festivities. Was it just as beautiful? Either way, it was certainly an upgrade from what you remembered previously.

“Should she not?” Mileena replied, and you looked over. She had an almost offended look on her face, which caught you off guard. “It commemorates my late father.” She said, and you took note of that. You remembered how Liu Kang had told you about the brief history of the royal family, including the unfortunate death of King Jerrod.

“I think it is a wonderful celebration in memory of him.” You spoke up, your gaze landing on the decorations that were among the people and buildings. You voice carried the admiration you held for the beauty of it all. “Her Majesty made the capital look so wonderful, it must be an excellent reflection of your father.” You felt the princess’ gaze land on you, and you turned to send her a friendly smile.

Whistles were blown, and you turned to look over your shoulder to gaze at whatever was causing it. You saw a woman standing in the street, in the way of the procession. It seemed she was leading other guards, who were notably dressed differently than the Umgadi. You watched as those people led off a few people who seemed to be handcuffed. Your eyebrows furrowed. Not at the sight, but at the slight haze you felt upon seeing her, too.

You wondered if you were bound to recognize a person every few minutes in this place.

Mileena knocked on the carriage frame, which prompted Tanya to stop the animals from continuing on. The princess whispered a small “excuse me” as she walked past you and Raiden, and hopped off the carriage. She strode over to the woman with what you assumed was thinly veiled frustration.

You couldn’t hear the conversation well, but you did overhear that she called the woman the first constable. You put two and two together that this must be the police force of Sun Do. She seemed to express anger towards the failed job of clearing the street. Then, the conversation was spoken in words too quiet for you to overhear. You turned back in your seat, to make it seem like you weren’t listening in on that conversation.

“Princess Mileena doesn’t seem to like her very much.” Raiden observed, his gaze on the two women. You nodded. Fromwhat Liu Kang had taught you, you already had put together why they had some sort of conflict, aside from the obvious hold up.

“Li Mei used to lead the Umgadi, the palace guard.” Liu Kang informed the champion, catching him up to speed. His glowing gaze drifted over to look at him. “It was on her watch that the Princesses’ father was murdered.” As the information settled in, the tension in the carriage rose. Soon enough, Mileena rejoined the group, though a bit more peeved.

Thankfully, the rest of the ride was peaceful and without any further hold ups. The tension dissipated as you watched the city fade away, and the palace came into view. The carriages stopped at the entrance, and you soon found yourselves being ushered away by the Umgadi into the palace. The princesses had disappeared in the midst, and you assumed they were simply getting ready for the upcoming event.

As you found yourself standing in the Great Hall of the palace, you stood next to Liu Kang, your students in front of you. Raiden was the one who was directly in front of Liu Kang, and you could tell his nerves were getting to him. His arms were crossed as his head tilted down, his hat concealing the stress that was obvious on his face.

“Worry expends energy for no reason, Raiden.” Liu Kang reminded him.

“But the tournament.” Raiden pointed out. Worry creased his brow, and you could sympathize with the burden he must feel being the only representative for Earthrealm within this tournament. His arms uncrossed as he stepped closer, looking at the fire god. “If I lose…”

“Just remember your training, Raiden.” You cut in, recognizing the signs of a spiraling mind. You gave him a smile, and Liu Kang did as well. “I told you already, you have the ability to win this tournament.” You reminded him of your words earlier. “As long as you focus on yourself, you will do fine. Worrying over a future that hasn’t happened yet will do you no good.”

Raiden looked at you, trying to soak in your words. His furrowed brow relaxed, and he tried to reciprocate the smile. It was a weak and weary one, but it was better than nothing. He seemed to be more confident now because of your words, even if it was just by a little bit.

The sounds of armor and the crowd whispers caught your attention. You looked over to see a horned man enter the hall. Your eyes met, and your eyes widened. It felt like the world was slowing down to a halt. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, so loud you could practically hear the blood rushing in your ears.

Shao Khan.

Your body froze, and it was like the amulet all over again. The world around you swirled and faded, and you found yourself now atop a rooftop. The sky was hazy with a mixture of clouds and smog from the destruction of the world around you. Distantly, other buildings were set on fire. THo0se that weren’t seemed to be destroyed.

This was the end of all things.

You were on your knees, cradling yet another body in your hands. The smell of it all was terrible. The first thing you smelled was burnt flesh. It was sickening and made your stomach turn and twist. Then, you smelt ash from the fires all around you. You didn’t dare look down, your hands trembling as they felt burnt and scarred skin. That must be the main source of the burnt flesh smell.

To your left, you recognized hazily, Johnny Cage. He looked different, but you could recognize him all the same. To your right, you saw a woman whose name you only vaguely recalled as Sonya Blade. She was an ally? Surely she must be. Ahead of you, you could see Raiden in his thunder god form standing before the man whose name rang in your head.

Shao Khan.

Your head was pounding. All you knew was the massive destruction around you was because of the man. How it came to be, you couldn’t recall. All you knew was that it was because of him. Hate filled you, and you grit your teeth. Grief for things you didn’t quite remember clawed at your heart. You almost clenched your hands into fists, but then you remembered the body in your lap. Instinctively, you looked down. You wished you hadn’t the moment you did.

Liu Kang?

A wave of nausea filled you as you recognized the scarred and burnt body of the man in your lap. Thin scars trailed upwards his body, accompanied with gruesome burnt scars. One eye had even turned white from his injuries. Your stomach turned as you looked into his one good eye, and you realized with horror that it was already glazed over.

Death had already claimed the man.

“No.” You said, your voice quivering as you stared down at the man. Tears began to blur your vision, and your heart raced. How could this happen? This had to be a dream, an illusion. Anything but real. In your shock, you tried to shake him, hoping somehow he would wake up. All you felt was his warmth quickly fading away from you.

The voice in your head screamed. You’ve lost too many! But who had you lost? Looking down at the deceased in your lap, you wondered how many you’ve had lay dying in your arms. Did it matter how many had died?

You didn’t know. All you knew is that you were filled with a burning hatred for whoever did…this.

“You monster!” You cried out, standing up after you had carefully set down Liu Kang’s body onto the ground. You couldn’t recall who had done this, but you could only assume that Shao Khan had to be responsible.

Raiden turned back, shock on his face at your scream filled with pure vitriol. As you charged towards Shao Khan, hate fueling your body. you saw the thunder god trying to stop you. You ignored him. You would not let the thunder god prevent you from avenging those you have lost in this ceaseless war.

You leapt, claws outstretched as your teeth bared as a lion. Shao Khan merely chuckled at your attempt to lash out at him. You grunted as the man easily sent you flying back with his sorcery. As you fell, you transformed back into your human form. You tumbled onto the rooftop, hazily seeing Johnny and Sonya also being flung back as well. They landed near you.

You were powerless as you watched Raiden confront the tyrant. Was this the end?

“Red alert.” Johnny muttered behind you, snapping you out of your vision. You blinked, trying to ground yourself in the real world. You didn’t get a conclusion to the vision you saw, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to. What a horrible vision you had received. And yet, curiosity was clawing at you, what had happened? “Incoming stock villain.”

Was that the last thing you saw before you died and came into this life? Or was there more to the story?

“General Shao.” Liu Kang said, and you looked over at him. You felt a wave of relief as you looked at the fire god, knowing he was alive and not dead like you had seen. Still, the image was seared into your head. How cruel it was that the fire god had glowing white eyes, reminding you of the one white eye he had during his death. “Do not let him goad you.” Earthrealm’s protector advised Raiden, looking over to him. Then, he turned his eyes to look at you. His gaze turned perplexed as they did so.

You swallowed, quickly sending the fire god a smile. You must have left the look of worry lingering on your face far too long. That seemed to temporarily satisfy him as he turned his attention to General Shao, but the lingering stare he left on you left you knowing he would ask later.

With heavy footsteps, the man who your brain was screaming to maul approached. His eyes glanced over to you, an eyebrow raised before they stared back at Raiden. You were certain from that expression you were failing to hide the sudden hate you felt towards him. A mocking smile appeared on his face as he assessed the man. A condescending laugh left his lips.

“Hah, this is Earthrealm’s champion?” General Shao commented with a sneer. “I nearly thought it was that one.” He remarked, pointing a finger in your direction. You blinked in surprise at the comment. “That stare had resolve and determination to best me the moment I stepped in. Disappointingly, it appears you’re the champion.” His lip curled with delight. “So scrawny.”

“Would you care to test his strength!?” Kung Lao challenged Shao for his friend. He stepped forward with indignation. You leaned over with wide eyes and sent him a glare. You had to admit, you were holding yourself back from leaping at the general yourself, but for different reasons. This was neither of your guys’ battle to fight, though. “Raiden will-” Thankfully, Liu Kang stepped in to intervene.

“Will prove himself well enough.” Liu Kang spoke, finishing Kung Lao’s sentence for him. His hand hovered in front of Kung Lao’s chest to prevent him from stepping any closer. He stepped in between the champion and the general, acting like a barrier between the two realms. His gaze was unwavering in the face of the man.

“Have you still not told most Earthrealmers that Outworld exists?” General Shao inquired, his voice deep and gravely. His face held a look of judgement as he regarded the god. He was already looking down at him physically, and from the tone of his voice, it was more than just that.

“It is safer that way, General.” Liu Kang responded simply, not giving into his attempts to frustrate him.

“I suppose so.” General Shao said. He then took a step closer, trying to intimate Liu Kang, He leaned down, a belittling tone in his voice. “Your people’s frail minds couldn’t handle the truth.” You realized suddenly, that your hands were balled into fists. Crescent moon marks would be left permanently on the inside of your palm at this rate. You forced your hands to relax, and folded them behind your back. You held back a scoff at this poor attempt of intimidation.

“You presume them frail, General?” Liu Kang challenged. He raised his eyebrows at the Outworlder’s cocky attitude. “Should you…given how frequently they win this tournament?” The fire god pointed out, and you could tell he hit a nerve. The tension grew thicker, and it was as if you could cut it with a knife.

“We will destroy your champion, Liu Kang.” General Shao promised, his resolve showing through his voice. You could sense the hatred he felt for the god, not even bothering to use the honorific for him. He shook his head, his orange eyes boring into the demigod. “He shall taste no victory.”

Then he stormed off.

Minutes passed by, and more people filled the room. It was crowded. You offered light conversation to a random Edenian woman to be polite as you waited. You learned how excited she was to finally be able to watch the tournament in person, a sentiment you both shared. She was new to serving the throne, so this would be her first time. Although cautious, she even asked about Earthrealm, something you were glad to tell about.

Soon enough, you heard footsteps walking down from the hall, and the conversations began to cease. You sent an apologetic smile to your conversation partner that your conversation was cut short. You turned your attention to the trio of women who now entered the room.

Leading them was the woman who you presumed was Empress Sindel, the princesses following close behind. Your mind buzzed at the sight of her, and you began to wonder once more how many important people you once knew in your past life. Surely, it was not a coincidence you recognized many who seemed to be important in this life.

Who…were you?

The trio took confident strides, holding an air of regalness around them. You stood next to Raiden and Johnny, watching them walk through the hall towards their thrones. They walked up to their thrones before seating themselves comfortably, almost seeming to bask in the high regard that everyone held them in.

“Welcome, members of the royal house.” Sindel began to address the crowd, her gaze sweeping across the room. Her voice held authority, yet it also had a sense of warmth within it. “Welcome, our esteemed Earthrealm guests.” She said, nodding her head in the direction of your group. “We gather once again to honor my late husband’s legacy. To continue the tournament that he founded with Lord Liu Kang in hopes it would foster peace among the realms.”

A pained and sorrowful expression appeared on Sindel’s face, and you had sympathy for her. Losing someone close to you…while you did not experience it in this life, the memories that began to terrorize you reminded you of how heavy that loss can feel. You couldn’t imagine how much worse it must feel since the one she lost was her husband.

“May Jerrod’s soul watch over us with pride from its resting place in the Living Forest.” Your brain recognized the place, though last you recalled it was much more sinister. You wondered how it was now. A moment of silence was given in respect for the late King. “Lord Liu Kang.” Sindel addressed the god, who had walked over to the Empress. He stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up to her from her place on the throne.

“Empress Sindel.” Liu Kang replied, a smile on his face. “It pleases me once again to be your guest.” He bowed to the Empress, showing his respect for the ruler. Despite being a god, you admired how humble he was.

“Here, you are always welcome.” Sindel replied, her hands spreading out in a friendly gesture. The fire god lifted himself up to look at her once more. Crossing her leg, she leaned forward in interest. “Now, let us meet your champion.”

“Earthrealm’s champion is Raiden, Your Majesty.” Liu Kang introduced. You looked over to said man who remained rooted to the spot. You placed a gentle hand on his back to push him forward, having a feeling he was too stunned by his nerves. He felt stiff when you pushed him. “He has earned his place by embodying the very best qualities of Earthrealm’s people.”

“You seem nervous, young man.” Sindel observed, her eyes searching the younger man.

“I’m a stranger in an unfamiliar land.” Raiden said. “Here to compete against its greatest fighters. Yes, I am nervous.” He admitted with a nod of his head. You had to admit, even if it was foolish to admit weakness against these people, his honesty still made you smile. It was just part of his charm.

Never change, Raiden.

“As you should be.” The Empress acknowledged, though her tone was not condescending. If anything, it had a hint of encouragement behind it. “You have a difficult path ahead.” She stood up, and spread her hands out in a grand gesture. “It has begun!”

Those words felt so familiar to you. Has…this been the first tournament you’ve been to?

“As tradition requires, Outworld’s initial competitor will be Sun Do’s first constable.” Sindel announced. You looked over, hearing the sound of heels clack down the hallway. You recognized the woman approaching. It was the same person that Mileena had been admonishing. “Li Mei.” A determined look was on the woman’s face, contrasting the uncertain one Raiden whenever the tournament was brought up.

You glanced over to Raiden, trying to assess his reaction. It was as you expected. He still had that look of doubt and nervousness on his face. Yet, at the same time, you could see that same determination shining in his eyes.

“May she defend our realm’s glory as well as she preserves our capital’s order.” Sindel continued to speak, right until the first constable stopped right in front of the Empress’ throne at the bottom of the steps.

“Your Majesty.” Li Mei said, looking up to the ruler. She stood up straight and ready, and you could see the training she must have gone through as both an officer and an Umgadi in her stance alone. “I will honor both the royal house, and all of Outworld, with my kombat.” The officer announced, saluting the woman. A bold claim. Sindel descended the steps, placing a hand on the other woman’s shoulder.

Their conversation was too hushed for you to listen in. Well, you could listen in if you wanted to, but you figured it would be rude to do so. You also knew it would be very, very obvious if you transformed your ears to do so as well. But from your position alone, you could see hints of resentment within the Empress’ expression, barely visible under the guise of her veiled pleasantries.

You felt…pity for Li Mei.

“All you need do is your best.” Liu Kang told Raiden. He placed a hand on his shoulder as he regarded the champion. “The rest will take care of itself.” You placed a hand on Raiden’s bicep, looking at him warmly as you nodded.

“He’s right. You being here and having the courage to fight for Earthrealm makes me, and I’m certain Liu Kang as well, proud enough.” You encouraged him, squeezing his arm. Raiden sent you a smile as well. You could see how he was strengthening his resolve for his upcoming fight.

“Yes, thank you both.” Raiden replied, nodding. His gaze switched between both you and the fire god. But as you retreated with Liu Kang, you felt the champion’s gaze linger on you for just a few moments longer.

“Shall we see what you can do?” Li Mei challenged. She seemed more angry now, as if her determination had now been switched out with anger for the man. This made you wonder just what the Empress had said to her during their hushed moment. You clasped your hands together, staring at the duo as they conversed before their fight.

“Hopefully, this will be the first of many victories.” Raiden replied, his tone polite and respectful. You sighed. You knew it was part of his charm, but he seriously needed a lesson in verbally defending himself better.

“I will prevail, Earthrealmer.” Li Mei declared. Her eyes narrowed at her opponent. “This fight is more important to me than you will ever know.”

The fight began. It was intense. While Raiden was trained well, courtesy of you, the monks, and Liu Kang, you weren’t certain how he would fare against the Outworlders. After all, you knew they had much longer life spans than Earthrealmers, which meant they had more experience than what he could ever have.

Li Mei displayed great combat prowess. You could see how disciplined her technique was from the way she moved. She was relentless. She treated Raiden as if he were a threat, which he was. She did not dare underestimate her opponent.

Raiden, however, kept his calm. You watched as he showcased his newfound electric abilities. It was honestly a bit mesmerizing to watch, and you were immensely impressed by how fast he had mastered the new powers. It was as if he had them since birth, and you would have assumed so had you not been there to witness when he first got his powers. You just wished it came from anything else than that cursed amulet.

Still, despite the vigor that Li Mei had shown, Raiden was still able to best her.

“Thank you for the match, first constable.” Raiden thanked his opponent humbly. With grace, Li Mei stood up. You couldn’t ignore the despondent look on her face. She looked at the young man for a moment. Then, she bowed and then took her leave. You watched her walk off, and couldn’t help but to feel bad for her. The crowd began murmuring as she left.

“My compliments, Raiden, on a well fought match.” Sindel commended the Earthrealm champion. She then stood up, addressing the crowd. “We are adjourned until first light, I hope to see you all at this evening’s banquet.” She announced to everyone, then everyone dispersed.

“Congratulations Raiden.” You said, walking over to the champion. You watched as his eyes seemed to light up at your praise. You pat his shoulder, shaking it just a bit. “Keep it up, and I might just have to reward you when we get back to Earthrealm.” You said, half joking. And yet, the man looked at you with surprise, and there was just a bit of color on his cheeks.

“Really?” He inquired with a hint of surprise in his voice. He blinked as you nodded, thinking of what type of food to make the man. Perhaps a dessert this time? Victory did taste sweet after all. As the others came to congratulate their peer, you backed off to stand next to Liu Kang. You didn’t want to crowd the man.

“I could see your training techniques shining through.” Liu Kang said, looking over to you as he also let the others converse with Raiden. You looked at him, basking momentarily in the praise he was giving to you. Sure, nowadays the praise you received from the god was not rare, but it was delightful to receive all the same. “I could have not chosen anyone better to train him.”

“You’re too sweet.” You reply, feeling bashful at the praise. You looked downwards, before looking back at the small group. “I must admit, I’m surprised with how quickly he adapted to using that amulet.” You said, recalling briefly how he even used techniques the old Raiden had displayed. “You must have taught him well.”

“I merely guided him.” The fire god admitted, his gaze also on the champion. “In truth, it was he who had discovered those techniques himself.” He paused, his hands folding in front of him. “It was almost…natural for him.” There was a tone in his voice…nostalgia? You eyed him, not knowing what to make of the way he spoke.

Did he know more than he was letting on?

“I see.” You replied, uncertain of how to properly respond. Suddenly, you felt like you were hit with a wave of nausea. You stumbled forward, gripping your head. Liu Kang reached out, grabbing your arm to steady you. The throbbing in your head had intensified.

“Are you alright?” Liu Kang inquired, his voice dripping with concern. His eyes searched you, trying to see what was wrong. Wearily, you nodded your head. You swallowed, trying to will away the pain. You closed your eyes as you steadied yourself. He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you receiving visions again?”

“I’m fine.” You manage to get out, dancing around the question. “I…I just need some air. I’ll meet you at the banquet tonight.” You told him quickly, not certain what had suddenly befallen you. You hadn’t received any visions this time, just pain. You let out another hiss of pain. For a moment, you felt Liu Kang’s grip tighten, as if he wasn’t sure it was the right decision. Then, his hand let go of you.

“Take care of yourself.”

You nodded, quickly walking off in a direction, just wanting to get outside. You didn’t notice the eyes that fell on your retreating form. The hallways echoed with your footsteps, and you concentrated on the ground ahead, trying to retrace your steps to the front of the palace. You tried your best to ignore the Umgadi who seemed to stare at you curiously. They didn’t interfere though, seeing as you were just walking towards the outside. As you were met with the grand doors, you let out a sigh of relief as you quickly walked outside.

The fresh air was much needed. The intense pain in your head settled down. It was even more bearable than before, which was a much needed relief. Maybe being in there or witnessing all that had caused your head to be overwhelmed. You couldn’t tell, it was all too confusing. You walked forward and sighed, leaning on a railing that overlooked the city in the distance.

It was nice and peaceful out here.

“Ahem.” Jumping slightly, you looked over to the right and saw Li Mei standing out there. She looked awkwardly away, bowing her head as you looked at her. You had not even noticed her there. You looked at her, noting the puffy eyes and the tear stains on her face that you were able to barely see from her nearly hidden face.

Oh. You had interrupted a private moment.

You felt your face flush from embarrassment as you opened your mouth, not knowing how to respond. Unhelpfully, your mind finally granted you a brief memory of the woman before you. You remembered being friends, bonding over lost villages. You vaguely remembered a refugee camp. Well, none of that had been helpful to you in your current situation.

“I…um…sorry.” You managed to get out, turning your gaze away. Silence settled between you two, but it was far from the comfortable type that you were used to. Unable to bear the awkwardness, you spoke up again. “You fought well back there. I almost thought you would have won.” You admitted, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Thank you.” Li Mei said quietly, her voice hoarse. There was a tone to her voice which told you that your words did little to comfort her. She did lose still, after all. There was a moment where you heard her sniffles. Awkwardly, you searched your pockets, before you found a small packet of tissues. Good thing you carried those around with your medical pack. You held it out to her, who looked at it curiously before taking it. “Thank you…again.” She muttered, before using it. You nodded.

“No problem.” You said, the tension easing just a bit. “I’m not lying when I commend your fighting skills, you know.” You continued, your gaze dropping to look down at the waterfalls that decorated the palace. For a moment, you considered turning into a fish and swimming away to avoid this awkward conversation. You couldn’t just…leave her though.

“It wasn’t enough, though.” Li Mei responded, a hint of bitterness in her tone. She did seem to feel better despite this.

“I think that’s okay.” You say, shrugging. You realized what your words sounded like, and scrambled to clarify what you meant. “I mean that you did your best! And I think that’s commendable! It’s very much okay to be upset though!” You said, and you felt guilty as you watched the police officer just awkwardly nod. “Sorry, I’m not exactly the best at comforting people. I didn’t mean to interrupt your private moment either.”

“It’s alright.” The first constable said, her voice softer now as she fiddles with the rest of the packet of tissues in her hands. “I had been a wreck.” She admitted. She kicked her boot into the ground. “I don’t even know why I told you that, in all honesty. You’re a stranger.”

“Sometimes it’s nice to get things off your chest.” You offered an explanation, shrugging. “I don’t mind listening.”

“Are all Earthrealmers so trusting?” Li Mei inquired, changing the subject. You had a feeling she was not too trusting of you, which you figured was fair. Her stare lingered on you, a suspicious look on her face. You let out a small laugh.

“Not all, but there are certainly a lot of us who are.” You admitted. You looked over to the woman, nodding your head. “Sorry to intrude on your time, keep the tissues.” You apologized, bowing your head. You walked off, giving her one last final wave. You probably were making the situation worse by sticking around. “It was nice meeting you though, first constable.”

“It was nice meeting you too.”

You didn’t meet up with the others until later, taking the time to try and rest. Being away from people helped your headaches. You had found your room, which the Empress had so graciously allowed you and the others to have. Your room was quite quaint, and from your knowledge, it was fairly close to the hanging gardens, a place that had caught your eye.

Maybe you could take a walk around there later.

As you exited your room, you found yourself a bit lost, not knowing where to go exactly. Was the banquet to be at the hanging gardens? You vaguely recalled someone telling you that during the ride over, but your memory was failing you. You stood outside your door, deep in thought. You hardly noticed the footsteps heading your way.

“Lost?” A voice inquired. You looked up and noticed princess Kitana walking towards you. You blinked, surprised upon seeing the royal. You stared at her, feeling a memory pop up. She had a similar role in the past life. A princess trained in combat. There were a few more memories attempting to break through, but your head couldn’t make sense of it quite yet. You quickly realized that you had been staring. You bowed to her out of respect, which seemed to please her.

“If you’re lost, I can guide you to the royal banquet, if you wish.” The princess offered to you, a cordial smile upon her lips as she seemed to analyze you.

“That’d be appreciated, princess.” You said, accepting her offer. You followed her steps, matching her pace. She seemed a bit more friendly, than when you saw her earlier, even if it was just by a tiny bit. The hallways were filled with the echoes of your footsteps. You didn’t mind the silence, trying to dwell on the nagging feeling that you had. Why had you felt like you had seen her in your memories recently?

“Have you enjoyed your stay in Outworld so far?” Kitana inquired, peering over to you. You blinked, losing your train of thought. You hadn’t been expecting her to try and converse with you. You couldn’t tell if she was simply being polite or was actually interested in your thoughts. You just hoped it was the latter.

“I have, your realm is fascinating.” You admitted, reflecting on what you had seen so far. You were glad it was nothing like your memories. “It’s very pretty here. Where I come from, we don’t have sights like this.” You said, referring to both the life you currently lived and the one you remembered. “I’m fortunate to be able to witness this.”

“Indeed.” Kitana nodded. “Not many Earthrealmers get to witness the beauty of Outworld, much less in their prime.” You were momentarily puzzled by what she meant, then remembered that most perceived you as merely an Earthrealmer. You silently wondered if there were others like you out there, others who originated from other realms. You supposed not.

“It is a blessing.” You said, deciding to play along. Best not to raise any unwanted attention to your strange status. “Have you participated in many tournaments yourself?” You inquired, not knowing just how old the princess was. You assumed thousands of years, but just how many was something you weren’t quite sure of.

“Oh, I have participated in plenty.” The princess admitted nearly laughing at the idea. Which in all honesty, didn’t really give you any indicators to her age. She peered over to you, a thoughtful look on her face. “You are known as Lord Liu Kang’s companion, correct?” She inquired, tilting her head in your direction. You nodded, not sure where she was going with this. “What qualifies you to have such a high position?”

“Ah.” You said, realizing that many didn’t get the privilege of being called such a title. You weren’t sure if there even was someone who came before you who had the same title. You weren’t sure how to explain it, many didn’t question the title since it would be akin to questioning a god…but Outworlders were a bit more bold. “I’m not quite sure myself.” You lied. “I just help him with duties and training the champions.”

“I see.” Kitana said, though you could hear the curiosity in her tone. It was the type of curiosity which was not so easily quenched. “So you trained Raiden?” She inquired, her eyebrows raised. You nodded, and she seemed a bit surprised. “You two must be close.” She commented, which made you hum in thought. You nodded as you came to that conclusion as well.

“I guess we are.”

“We’re here.” She announced, and you found yourself outside where the Hanging Gardens must be. It looked wonderful at night and decorated. Not to mention, the smell of the food in the air was simply divine. She looked at you again, an amused smile on her lips. “You’re interesting, I would not mind talking to you again. Enjoy the feast.”

“You too!” You called out, feeling honored. You stared after her, your mind pulsing as it tried to remember desperately what role she had in your past life. You walked around the area, marveling at how the plants glowed in the cooler colors of the rainbow. You found yourself peering at the tables and found there were particular seating assignments. It didn’t take long for you to find your seat, and luckily you were one of the first there.

You were to be seated between Johnny and a person named Rain. You stared at the name, a faint recollection returning to you. The name was certainly familiar. The people to be across from you were Raiden and Liu Kang. You’d at least be among familiar faces. That, and you didn’t seem to be seated close to General Shao at all.

That was a relief.

Soon, people began to emerge from the palace and fill the area. The pressure in your head started up again, and you silently grieved over how you would not be able to enjoy this meal without at least a little bit of pain. With how strong the pressure was, you assume you would not be able to glean any new memories either. Still, you did not complain and sat down as the food was served.

Plates of delicacies were set before you, and as you peered at the cooked meat, you wondered if these creatures were the same ones as on Earthrealm. If there weren’t, you wondered if you could transform into it. When wine was brought about, you declined it. You were against the idea of becoming drunk, fearing your deepest secrets would spill from your very own lips.

You were not giving yourself the chance to sabotage the good things you had. So instead, you got some simple fruit juice.

You mostly indulged in the food presented to you, enjoying the difference in tastes. Mentally, you wondered if you could recreate these back at home. Now that would be something you could surprise Madam Bo with. You did listen in to the others conversations, but the one who you surprisingly ended up talking to the most was the man beside you.

“The Imperial Academy sounds wonderful!” You remarked, marveling at the story that Rain had indulged you in. He was much more friendly than you were expecting. When he had introduced himself as the high mage, you were intrigued immediately. You asked him about how he earned the title, and he informed you of his accomplishments. He seemed proud of his achievements.

“It is indeed.” He said, smiling your way. He nodded as he took a sip of the wine. “And you say Earthrealm has no schools of magic?” He inquired, an eyebrow raised at the words you had told him before. You nodded, chewing a piece of food.

“It doesn’t.” You confirmed, slicing the food on your plate to prepare another bite. “Magic is pretty foreign to our realm. It’s either a rare secret that is passed down through families, you are born with it, or you receive power from another object.” You explained, recalling the different ways that you knew people had received their special abilities. “I’m amazed magic is taught here.”

“I pity the fact that your realm doesn’t have the same privilege as our realm does.” He used your hands, eyebrows raising. “You mentioned your people rarely have magic.” You nodded, confirming what he heard. “Are you also magicless? Or are you part of the fortunate few to be blessed with those abilities?”

“I was fortunate to have those abilities.” You confirmed. Setting down your silverware, you held out your hand and transformed it into a bear’s claw. Rain’s eyes widened with fascination, and you felt proud of your little display of sorcery. “I was blessed to be born with animal shape shifting. I can transform parts, or all of my body at will to any animal I wish.”

“Fascinating. And you have not studied these abilities formally?” The high mage remarked, eyeing the transformed limb before you turned it back. “Your abilities remind me of another sorcerer in the royal court.” He said, piquing your interest. “He is busy with some duties, but I believe it would be of interest if you spoke with him.” He paused, looking at you once more. “Assuming you strive to learn about the limits of what you can do.”

“I am always looking to grow stronger.” You admit, and it seemed that something in your words struck a chord with the mage. His smile grew as he leaned towards you just a tiny bit more. “I wouldn’t mind conversing with this other sorcerer if he has similar abilities.” You say, nodding, taking note of the tip that he had given you. “What is his name?”

“His name is-” Rain began, but the conversation was cut short as he turned his attention to the front. You also turned to look, and noticed Empress Sindel had risen, holding her goblet in one hand. All of the conversations came to a halt as you watched the empress begin to give a speech.

“My husband Jerrod believed that the future of our realms lay together.” Sindel called out, a smile gracing her lips. Her attention traveled across the crowd. “Let us move forward in open dialogue, letting no secrets tear our bonds asunder.” You watched as everyone began to rise. Grabbing your own glass, you stood as well, raising it out.

“Your highness.” Raiden spoke suddenly, surprising you. “It’s an honor to be here and meet your people.” He looked around, his eyes landing on even the general who had shown him contempt earlier. “I can see there’s more here that joins us than divides us.” Despite the disapproving stare that you could see Shao was sending the champion, he only let out a small scoff.

Your distrust of the man grew, but at least he didn’t make an uproar.

“Well said, young man.” Sindel said, nodding in agreement to the little speech that Raiden had given out. Her smile grew as she lifted her goblet. “Now, let us enjoy the rest of the tournament together, in harmony, just as my husband would have wished.” With that, she lifted the cup to her lips and drank merrily.

With a cheer, everyone followed suit, taking a drink as their empress did. The rest of the feast ended quite well, with little to no issues as far as you were concerned. You had even conversed more with Rain, learning more about the magic culture that Outworld had been blessed with. He even offered to talk more another time, seeing your enthusiasm.

It wasn’t until you were in your room later that you realized that you had forgotten to ask what the sorcerer’s name was.

You couldn’t sleep.

That was to be expected. You always had trouble sleeping. Not to mention the fact that you were in an unfamiliar realm. Not to mention, when you tried to close your eyes, you could only see the lifeless body of Liu Kang. Your body was restless, and you paced back and forth in your room. You didn’t have a window here, the darkness only being abated by a simple crystal lamp.

You bit your lip as you tried to process all you had seen. You knew you definitely had a history with many people in Outworld. That was undeniable. Your memories only occurred when you encountered people you had at least known and talked to. It would be hard to try and figure out what your connection to all of them were though, since you would either have to stay around here for a prolonged period of time, or have private moments with them.

Somehow, you were more likely to encounter the latter, seeing how your time here was limited.

You sighed as you recalled the chilling vision of the general. Obviously, he had been some sort of villain previously. But was that still true? Your previous memories with Bi-Han had also been unpleasant. Maybe Shao was just an asshole? You weren’t certain, you hadn’t seen enough of him. But then again, you weren’t sure if you wanted to see any more of him.

With a sigh, you soon found your hand hovering over the handle of your door. Would it be weird to go and see if you could explore the palace? You figured that it would be considered off, and maybe even suspicious. They’d surely accuse you of trying to try and steal something. Maybe you could just explore the gardens. It’s not as if you could steal anything there.

That, and you weren’t sure if you could stand being in this room anymore.

You exited the room, slinking quietly into the hall. You masked the sounds of your footfalls, remaining quiet as possible to try and not disturb the others around. Sure you were restless, but you did not want to wake the others from your own energy.

“Where are you going?” A voice inquired, seeing you come down the hall. You walked closer, squinting to make out the figure. Ah, it was Tanya.

“I just walked to go on a walk.” You explained, hands up. “I’m rather restless, and the time difference between here and Earthrealm is great.” You gestured to the hall where you recollected the hanging gardens were. “I understand that it is late, but I merely wish to tour the hanging gardens, it looks beautiful at night.”

“Is that all?” Tanya inquired, assessing you with a hardened stare. You nodded, not minding how she glared at you. You knew she was only doing her job. She circled you, her gaze akin to a hawk. “Fine. I’ll escort you there.” She said, her tone cautious. You smiled gratefully at her for her generosity.

The walk there was silent, and unlike Princess Kitana, she offered no dialogue. Still, despite your gaze forward, you knew she was watching you closely. You didn’t mind, just wanting to go to the gardens. A memory began to surface, and you remembered a much different woman. One who sought to reclaim the glory of Edenia, a land that was once lost. How different she seemed now. Your mind did not buzz as much after, so you assumed you did not know her that much in the previous life.

“I’ll be here to make sure you don’t try to sneak in.” Tanya informed you once you two arrived, being transparent with her intentions. Her gaze narrowed as she scanned you up and down. “Do not try anything, Earthrealmer.” She warned.

“I promise I will not.” You said sincerely. Her gaze did not waver, but she did nod approvingly before turning away, letting you roam the gardens.

It was as breathtaking as before. The night sky was tinged with a hint of purple, and the night sky was so clear, letting the stars shine down on you. You briefly wondered if those same stars were the ones that those in Earthrealm would see.

Were Tomas, Bi-Han, and Kuai Liang looking at the stars too, wondering how you were?

The plants around the area flourished with life, and the smell was simply divine. You still couldn’t get over how they had a natural glow. You were tempted to reach out and touch the flora, captivated with their looks. You figured that was rather rude though, so you held back. You did allow yourself to lean in and smell the flowers.

In the midst of your fascination, you did not look ahead, and soon found yourself bumping into a figure.

“Sorry!” You instinctively apologized as you backed up. You shook your head to see princess Mileena. She looked at you with a mixture of frustration and confusion. You offered her a weak smile, and you were granted a memory. A ruthless woman with orange eyes and sharpened teeth meant to tear into flesh instead of lips. She was a clone, not a twin.

Was this really the same person?

Quickly remembering your manners, you bowed to Mileena, who watched you closely with narrowed eyes. Your mind still buzzed, and you knew you must have a deeper past with her.

“What are you doing out here, Earthrealmer?” She quickly inquired, her eyes watching you with distrust. You held up your hands as you backed up, trying to display that you were not a threat. Irritation was evident, but you had a feeling that the origin of it was not related to you.

“I was just touring the gardens.” You quickly explained. “I couldn’t sleep. Tanya, one of your Umgadi, helped escort me out here.” You added on. You noted how she seemed to relax a bit upon the mention of the guard. She nodded, though you can sense she was on edge.

“I see.” The princess replied, her lips pursed. “Cause no trouble then.” Mileena instructed, then began to walk off. You sensed she was still mad about something, but what you could not fathom. You swallowed, and before you knew it, you opened your mouth.

“Wait!” You called out, turning to look at her. She halted, though did not turn around. “Would you like to hear a quick story?” You offered. Perplexed, she turned and looked at you. Her eyes scanned you, her eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused by your sudden offer. There was a moment of silence, and you wondered if it was presumptuous of you to have offered. You knew you were a people pleaser, but perhaps trying to offer something like a story to royalty was too far.

“What type of story?”

“I did not know Earthrealmers could have such fascinating adventures.”

“Well, it’s mostly a tale.” You said, smiling at the princess. You had recounted a movie that Johnny Cage had shown you. You did not know why you did this, but it didn’t sit right with you to see Mileena so upset. She was much more relaxed, the irritation that had rolled off of her in waves dissipating as you had told her of the stories.

“Still, the imaginations of your people are…intriguing.” Mileena looked down at her folded hands, a conflicted look on her face before she sighed. “Tell me, why tell me such things?” She inquired, her eyes narrowing towards you. “You do not seem the sort to randomly spew stories, unlike one of your other companions.”

“I thought a story might help.” You replied honestly. “You seemed, and forgive me for being blunt, stressed, princess.” You swallowed as you looked towards the stars. The princess in front of you was much different than you memories had shown. That was good. “I often know distracting myself from my troubles sometimes helps.”

“I see.” Mileena said, and you heard her shift as she looked away. “I suppose you have good instincts then.” She admitted, though you could tell she felt awkward that she had been read so easily. She paused as she seemed to ponder over something. “Are you often up this late?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” You tell her, crossing your arms as you recalled the many other sleepless nights you had. It was rare you ever went to sleep as expected. “Walks often help clear my mind, so that’s why I went out into the gardens.”

“If you are to be up this late, then I suppose we’ll see each other more often.” Mileena said, and you looked at her in surprise. “I would like to hear more of your tales, they amuse me.” You smiled at her nodding.

“I would be honored to be of service.” You tell her, bowing once more. Mileena looked at you in approval, seeming to enjoy the way you held her in high regard. It was a breath of fresh air compared to her conspirators.

“Meet me here tomorrow, then.” She instructed. She began to walk off, before pausing once more. “Good night…” She spoke your name, testing it out. Your smile grew wide as you waved at her, feeling satisfied that you had helped her from whatever had irritated her.

“Goodnight, princess.”

Taking another moment to yourself, you let out a sigh as you turned your face to look at the purple skies once more. Despite the oddities of Outworld, so far your stay here has been quite…nice. A soft breeze passed, and you smiled.

Maybe you did belong, just a bit, in Outworld.

part twelve

tagged: @zhivaxo @koisuko

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lu-lus-duckies · 2 months

Note

Sorry, been awake for 24+ hours and ended up falling asleep 😅

Apparently my mind kept all the worm ideas on the back burner so it finished cooking as soon as I woke up, so I'm sharing.

Vox finally manages to get rid of ALL the worms and larvae, but he's careful about not letting Valentino know because there'd be hell to pay for getting rid of his spawns.

So he goes on normally for a few weeks, gets his bitten and broken cables swapped for new ones and think this will be the end of it.

Exept.

He fells empty now.

Physically empty.

This MF unknowingly developed a kink for wriggling bugs inside of him.

And he can't ask Val for more larvaes because then he'd have to tell him that he got rid of his babies.

So where did this bring him?

Right back at the radio tower.

Alastor ties him up and just leave, for hours.

Finally he comes back with an unconscious King of Hell that he ties up with more tentacles next to Vox before leaving again.

He comes back with 4 buckets full of worms, Vox is getting exited but Alastor completely ignores him in favour of talking care of Lucifer.

The broadcast starts.

Alastor straddles the king and slaps his face to wake him up, Lucifer screams and trashes around because he knows what's coming.

Alastor starts stuffing handfuls of worms after handfuls of worms in his face.

Meanwhile Vox's hard as a rock and green with jealousy.

When Al finishes feeding worms to his majesty he sew his mouth shut to stop him from spitting it out.

He turns towards Vox and is abot to step on his face-

exept that he doesn't and keeps teasing Vox by pretending that he's about to get to it but just don't.

The Tv head wriggles like the worms he wants inside of him and whine with pleading eyes, hoping Alastor will take pity on him and will just get to it.

Alastor smiles, put his heeled boot on Vox's chest and crouch (crushing his sternum).

"I'm sorry Vox, I can't possibly give you what you want if I don't know what it is!"

Vox tries to keep quiet, he really does, but he ends up saying in a whiny voice :

"Step on me! Step on me, break me and fill me with worms! Please! Pleasepleasepleaseplease-"

"And why do you want that? Between the worms I put inside of you and your boytoy laying them inside of you, you should have more than enough shouldn't you?"

Alastor's still crushing his lungs, smiling deviously and holding his mic to Vox's mouth so that his answer is loud and clear for their audience.

"I...*sigh* I had them removed"

"Uh-Oh, the Tv even got rid of his boyfriend's spawns?"

"It was painful you frigging bitch!"

"Why ask for more then?"

"*whine* Pleeeeeeaseeee...."

Alastor stands and starts walking back to the King, shivering at the idea of having more worms stuffed in as he'd been trying to not swallow them for all this time.

"I LIKE THE PAIN! I FEEL EMPTY WITHOUT THEM! FILL ME AGAIN, PLEASE!"

"Well, you did say the magic word!"

Alastor walks back to Vox and steps on his head with his heels, breaking it more and more.

He then take one of the biggest shards and uses them to make long cuts on Vox's limbs, and he finally puts the worms in them.

The tentacles restraining his highness start moving and shake him before bringing him on top of Vox.

"Open wiide~!"

Alastor smashes Lucifer's mouth against Vox's and remove the magic seams, allowing his majesty to finally throw up inside of the TV's mouth.

Both "captives" have raging hard ons and Alastor uses Vox's phone to post a picture of their messy selves on Voxtec's official Instagram.

First dislike is 0.001 seconds after posting and it's Valentino's.

(too long?)

firstly, gotta tag the hoes @nunalastor

before I even start reading this, GO TO SLEEP. if you fell asleep, GOOD, let your body fucking rest

after the read: my god was this a fucking read. you're my favorite anon from now on. this shit hit harder than I imagine any drug can. for fucks sake, I am getting SO FUCKING HARD MY GOD-

#lulu asks #lulu is feral #tagging these hazbin hotel because everyone should be traumatized #hazbin hotel #lucifer #alastor #vox #valentino #wormgate

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irrlicht-writes · 2 months

Text

scribbles on your spine

Read this and its updates on Ao3! Updates will be semi-weekly~

The light of the moon shines right into the small of the alleyway and Vox whimpers. He stares at Alastor’s back, and the demon’s head twitches, turning back around. The bullet had hit him right straight through the eye, and blood is pouring out of the socket. There’s blood on his shining yellow teeth, and it’s dropping down his chin onto his shoulders and chest.

“Little fool,” Alastor croons in a deep, warbling voice, “do you want me to kill you?” | When promises were made, years and years apart, sometimes it's worth remembering what those promises were for. And when they dance again, in a hall full of light, they might just tear each other apart.

Vox is staring at the calendar as if it’s somehow going to solve the problem for him. February is fast approaching, and with it, Valentine’s Day. He’s not sure what to do. Are he and Alastor an item? They’ve kissed, sure, but they’ve done little else... well, what happened in the studio non-withstanding. Vox still blushes when he thinks about that. He’d like a repeat.

Regardless, he’s getting distracted. Valentine’s Day. What the fuck is he going to do – is he going to do anything? What if Alastor will do something? Fuck, if only one of them were a girl, then this wouldn’t be so complicated. But Alastor is a girl, right? He’s got all the girl skills. Vox isn’t actually sure what girl skills actually are, but Alastor for sure got them, right? Cooking, cleaning, sewing, that sort of shit. And! And he has gossip parties with Rosie, doesn’t he? So yeah. Alastor is the girl. While Vox is the man. With all the man skills. Like. Like, uh. He’s surely got some deeply buried, manly man skills. Yup. Absolutely. Vox the Man, at your service.

Fucking hell.

Back to the damn point!

Valentine’s Day.

What the fuck is he gonna do?

Does Alastor even want to be wined and dined? Not that Vox can even afford that shit. What about flowers? Chocolate? Does Alastor even like chocolate? Can deer eat chocolate? What if he doesn’t like it? Gods fucking damn it. He curls up in his bed and hugs his pillow tight.

Alastor likes singing, and he likes dancing. That at least Vox knows. So maybe a trip to the club? But that hardly feels appropriate for Valentine’s Day. And does Alastor even like going to clubs? He’s never mentioned going to any before. Vox groans into his bedding. This had been easier when he had been alive. He really had to pull the baddest bitch in town in Hell, didn’t he?

If at least the bad bitch were uncomplicated...!

“Gods, you’re my last hope, I beg of you!”

Yesterday, Vox had shyly asked Rodriguez for advice. He hadn’t specified who his paramour was but judging by the man’s more than tired look, he had known. He’d also said fuck you in nice, flowery words. And then the asshole had walked away. Rodriguez was the rudest, useless assholes Vox had the misfortunate to know. He had definitely not run after him in tears, begging him for help. Nope. He would never, he’s a man.

And right now, in front of him, are sitting Husk and Niffty. He’d been lucky to get them both at the house while Alastor had been away. Niffty is chugging her coffee like it’s a sport – she’s on cup five already – and Husk looks like he just got rumpled out of sleep, although the grumpy look is definitely a staple for him anyway.

“I find that hard to believe,” Husk says and looks at his coffee. He’s complained about not being able to get whiskey – they are at a café, for fuck’s sake, they don’t serve fucking alcohol also it’s bloody midday!

“You know him better than I. Husk, please, just tell me what I can get him for Valentine’s. We’re... together, or something. And – and he’s the girl, so I have to get him a gift, but I don’t even know if he likes chocolate!”

“No,” Husk answers instinctively. “Wait, Alastor’s the girl?”

“Alastor’s not a girl!” Niffty pipes up. “He’s the bestest bad boy I know! Hey! I need another coffee!”

“No, Niff, you don’t need more coffee. Anyway – no, Red doesn’t like chocolate. He’ll eat it, but he doesn’t like sweets. And, Vox, I – I don’t think he cares about Valentine’s. So, don’t stress about it? If you really wanna do something – shit, I dunno. Also, what the fuck you mean when you say Red’s the girl?”

Vox whimpers and lets his face fall onto the table. He doesn’t know what to do! Ugh, he’s a terrible boyfriend. Is he even a boyfriend? Gods, why is this so complicated? Getting married had been simpler than this shit. He’s lucky to not have hair, he surely would’ve turned grey already.

“What do I do,” he whimpers against the table, his one and only friend in this hellscape.

“Pay the fucking coffee bill,” Husk says and Vox slumps.

He needs friends that are useful.

Later that day, Vox sits on the low wall, staring off into space. Somewhere above him is a transmitter mast, and he can hear Alastor broadcasting. He’s not really listening to the words – it’s early afternoon, and that’s when Alastor is running most of his cooking advice or actual skits. Speaking of, maybe he could cook for Alastor...? Well, yeah, he could do that, if he never wants to see the demon ever again.

Most storefronts are decorated in pink hearts and whatever else is considered cute. So, the easy solution is out: no chocolate for the radio demon. What about flowers? Maybe some nice, red roses? But – that feels so basic. Alastor is special, and so Vox should do something special. But what? Okay, let’s think; what does Alastor like?

He likes radio. He likes blood. He likes murder. He likes carnage. He likes Vox – probably.

Vox pulls a face. That’s not exactly a list he can do much with. Sure, maybe he could try to buy him a radio, but – it’s likely Alastor would already have it, no? And sure, Vox could try and import stuff from the living world, but he doesn’t have enough money for that and the demon is severely allergic against things that are younger than he is.

Vox sighs and hugs his legs.

Even after all this time, it’s jarring how similar Hell is. They celebrate the same holidays as back topside, and money is still a ruler over everyone. If something can get exploited monetarily, then it will be. Vox doesn’t really mind, but it sure as fuck stresses him out. Maybe he should just buy the demon a card. Something like bee mine or something, but instead something with a deer pun. You’re deerest to me, or some corny shit like that. But that would hardly be special, wouldn’t it? Anyone could do that. Vox wants to be different. He wants to be special.

But – how?

“You’re kinda pathetic, you know?”

Vox blinks, and looks up to see Maggie standing there. Huh. He hadn’t really expected her.

“Leave me alone,” he murmurs and hugs his knees tighter. He wants to sulk.

“Roddie said you got Valentine’s problems. Why? Flowers ain’t good enough?”

“No!”

Maggie rolls her eyes and sits down next to him.

“Why not? Creepy fucker would like ‘em, no? I hear he’s tryna to be a gentleman, or somethin’. And why don’t you think he’s gonna get you something?”

Vox blushes. He’s really obvious, isn’t he? But well, how could he not? Alastor is everything, and he doesn’t quite understand why he’s alone in this – not that he minds, he really doesn’t want to share, and he’s afraid that in a straight-up battle he’d lose pathetically. So maybe nobody sharing his viewpoint is a good thing.

“I want it to be special. Only thing I could do that’s different is organise a murder fest, but how the fuck would I do that? Like, walk up to someone and be like Yo wanna get slaughtered by the radio demon as a Valentine’s present? Yeah, no.”

Maggie hums, and kicks her legs a little. It’s kind of nice, Vox supposes, that she stopped. She didn’t have to, but she did.

“If it were reversed,” she says then, “what would you hope for?”

Vox looks at her and thinks. If Alastor were to give him a gift for Valentine’s... honestly, he’d be happy with anything, as long as Alastor were the one giving it. But it’s different for him. Vox knows he’s more in love with the demon than the demon is in love with him; if Alastor is really in love with him at all. But he feels dumb saying that. And to Maggie, of all people, not that it matters much.

“I dunno,” he settles on, then, because he doesn’t want to leave her hanging. “Maybe something that shows he thought about it for more than a moment.”

Maggie nods, seemingly lost in thought a bit. “You know,” she continues, “if it were me, I think I’d want something that reminds me of him. You know? Like, I’d look at it years down the road, and I’d still remember who it’s from, even if we’re not together anymore. A nice memory, no matter what happens, you know? Something to prove that there had been someone, even if it’s no longer true.”

Befuddled, he looks at her. Huh, that’s actually kind of profound. Something that’ll always show you were there, once, even if you’re not any longer. Sure, Vox won’t ever leave Alastor’s side, but he likes the poetics behind the statement.

“Can’t you be this profound when we shoot our fucking movies?”

Maggie laughs, and punches him in the arm.

“I could be,” she chuckles, “if the scripts were good. See you later, Vox. Don’t think too hard, yeah? I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

She hops down the wall and saunters away. Vox looks after her for a bit, before he directs his gaze onto the pavement. What could he do, that is unique to him, that would remind Alastor of him for years to come? He touches his face. He has an idea, but he doesn’t know if it’ll work. He could just try it. What’s the worst that could happen? But he needs help with it. He hopes Alastor is still out. He slides down the wall, and makes his way to his destination.

He’s lucky.

Alastor is still out.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Niffty says. “How big do you want it?”

“Not big,” Vox replies, “It just needs to fit something of this size into it, so it’ll need a zipper or something in the back.”

He shows Niffty with his fingers, and she gets paper to draw a line on it. “Is it okay if I need a week?”

He nods. “Yeah, sure, don’t worry about it. I need to make the thing first, anyhow. And thanks for helping me, Niffty. What can I give you in return?”

Niffty taps a finger against her chin, thinking hard. “Nothing! It’s for Alastor, so it’s okay. He always finds the best bugs for me, and lets me do my puppet shows. I like him a lot! And don’t worry, I won’t tell him. He usually doesn’t care what I do in my free time.”

Vox breathes a sigh of relief. That’s good to hear. He’ll still think of something to do for Niffty – he can’t really do his plan without her, after all. Maybe some energy drinks supply, or something. She seems to be finding bugs and bad boys on her own well enough – such an odd combination.

“My my, is that a bunny I spy?”

Vox doesn’t shriek, really, he doesn’t, when Alastor speaks up behind him. Fucking hell, he hadn’t heard the door open.

“H-hey, Allie,” he croaks like a frog and turns his head, looking at the demon over his shoulder. Behind him is Husk, holding grocery bags. It surprises Vox every time, seeing the demon be so domestic he goes and buys groceries like a regular motherfucker.

Husk drags himself in the direction of the kitchen, clearly thrilled with his current situation in life.

“I wasn’t aware you’d be visiting, dear. Will you be staying for dinner? I was told a new recipe I simply must try out.”

The demon swings his cane around and pats Niffty on the head absent-mindedly. He doesn’t even seem to notice and fuck, Vox is in love. He looks up at Alastor, smiling like the fool he is.

“Yeah, I’d like to. I’d really like to stay.”

I’d really like to stay forever.

Vox doesn’t really have much space in his home, but he makes do. In life, he’s liked to tinker a fair amount, so he’s feeling pretty confident. He’s got no idea if Alastor will actually like his gift, but – maybe in the end, the thought is what counts most. And boy, did Vox think about this. Even if this turns out to be a failure, he can always look back and say he’s tried his best. But it won’t. It won’t be a failure, it’ll be a huge success. Holding his trusty screwdriver in hand, Vox smiles.

He looks out the window. Dinner at Husk’ house had been an experience, and Vox is eager to repeat it.

“It tastes like garbage!”

“Now, you’re just saying that because I didn’t put the cheese in. You know how terrible you react to cheese, Husker! Vox, dear, what do you think?”

“Hey, that ain’t fair! Of course he’s gonna take your side! No, we need someone neutral and the only neutral party here is me, so I’m fucking right! Give me the cheese!”

“Bushwa! How in the hells are you neutral on this stance? I shall in fact eat all the cheese myself!”

“You won’t fucking dare!”

Yeah, it had been funny. And Vox hadn’t said it then, but yeah, cheese would’ve been better.

He laughs and presses his hands together in front of his chest. He loves the demon so. So, so much, he could explode. Gods, he wants to kiss him again. Again and again and again, until the end of time.

“Here you go. Is it okay?”

Vox takes it from Niffty’s hands and squeezes it. He smiles. “It’s perfect, Niffty, thank you. Allie didn’t see it?”

“Nuh-uh! I told you, he doesn’t care what I do in my free time! Are you giving it to him now?”

Vox shakes his head. He still has some time, and he’s unsure on where to give it to Alastor. Inviting him home feels weirdly intimate, and laden with expectations he’s unsure Alastor would be comfortable with. Not that Vox... wouldn’t want, but... he’s a considerate boyfriend, is all. Truly an angel, he is.

“Not yet. Don’t tell him, okay? I’ll do it on Valentine’s.”

Niffty smiles, posing adorably. “Okay,” she answers, “I hope everything goes well, TV man!”

She skips away and Vox holds the gift close. His heart is beating fast. He’s even picked the right song. Well, at least he hopes so. He’s gotta admit, he’s a little giddy. However, with the gift in hand, he’s rather not be caught by Alastor again – being in his house is excusable, but holding this thing? Yeah no, the demon might get curious and we can’t have that. So he starts hurrying home. Sure, he would like to see Alastor, but Valentine’s is soon.

Having arrived home, he gets to work. It’s not much left to do, but Vox takes great care in it. When he’s done, he tests it out – it would do no good if it would blow up into the demon’s face first thing he does. But it works. Sure, it’s not perfect, and it might not sound like the things you can buy, but – Vox made this himself (well, with Niffty’s help, but mostly himself!).

He hopes Alastor will like it. He really, really does.

The radio demon’s not cruel, is he?

It’s Valentine’s, and it’s early evening, almost still afternoon. Vox sits on the bench, nervous as hell – he’s wearing his good suit, one that he rarely ever puts on. Husk and Niffty had promised to get Alastor into the park at roughly this hour, and Vox needs to think of something to thank them with. He had considered wrapping his present, but he decided against it. He didn’t even put a bow on it, or anything. What if Alastor didn’t like cute, and would look at a bow with disdain? No, no, best to play it safe. Best option would probably be to toss that thing at Alastor’s head from a distance, yell something vaguely romantic and run for the fucking hills before the demon would even get what was going on at all.

“Oh! Are you the surprise Husker mumbled about?”

Vox’s breath hitches in his throat. Looking to the side, nervous as hell, he can see Alastor stroll over. He looks like he always does – of course he does, why would he look any different? Before the demon can reach the bench, Vox jumps to his feet, hiding his gift behind his back. He feels like a little boy.

“I – I, uh – yes, I am!”

Alastor stops two steps in front of him and tilts his head.

“Whatever are we meeting in the park for? You know where my house is. If you want to look at the roses, they’re best enjoyed around midday! They are also free to take, in case you wish to decorate.”

Vox takes a deep breath. Husk said that Alastor doesn’t care much about Valentine’s, so he’s probably unaware. That’s okay, Vox is hyper-aware for both of them.

“It’s Valentine’s Day!”

Alastor had turned his head towards the rosebushes, and now he looks back at Vox, blinking confused.

“It is? My, time sure does fly, does it not? I’m unsure as to what importance it is, though. Is it... your birthday?”

Bless his heart, he sounds truly confused. Vox can’t help but smile. He’d been so nervous these past few days, but standing here now, with Alastor, he can feel it all melt away, like it never even mattered. If Alastor won’t like his gifts – that would be okay. He’s here. He’s here. That’s all that matters.

“I have a gift for you,” he says, calm for the first time in days, “for Valentine’s.”

He holds his hands outward and Alastor blinks, taking it. In his claws, he holds a small plush TV that Niffty made. Curiously, the demon turns it. He looks at Vox then, clearly waiting for some more information.

“It’s, uh, it’s –“ Okay, now he’s nervous again. “Here, if you press it – try pressing it, gently.”

Blinking, confused but ever so cute, Alastor squeezes the little plush toy and then You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile starts playing. Surprised, Alastor holds the plush closer, and his ears twitch – gods Vox wants to lick them.

“You like that song, right? I – Niffty helped me with sewing that toy –“

“I see,” the demon interrupts Vox’s attempts at rambling, and he turns the toy over. “How does it work?”

Eager, Vox steps forward and opens the plush TV. He points to the device he’s put in there – whenever the pressure point is pressed enough, the song starts playing, and it runs on battery, so it’s easily exchangeable.

“Do you – do you like it?”

Alastor hums, squeezing the toy again. Then he looks at his cane.

“I do,” he admits, “but I can play the song myself. Can you change the song the device plays?”

Vox deflates a little – he should’ve thought about that. Alastor is a radio host, after all, of course he would have access to all his favourite songs on demand. But hey, the thought still counts, doesn’t it?

“I – yes, I can,” damn his voice for sounding so detached, “what song would you like?”

Alastor looks at him, and smiles. “Yours.”

Vox blinks, confused. Huh? “Huh?”

“I can play any song I want with my microphone. What I can’t do,” he says, voice sultry sweet, “is have you sing it for me.”

Vox can’t breathe. Did he really – did he – for real? He – he hadn’t even thought about that. Vox isn’t a singer, not really, but – Alastor – he – he really – gods. Oh fuck, he’s so in love.

“You – you really want me to sing it?”

“Yes,” affirms Alastor, still smiling. “Whichever song you please, as long as you sing it. Can you do that?”

Vox wants to fuck him, he wants to kiss him, he wants to marry him.

“Yes,” Vox breathes and he takes the toy when Alastor hands it back. He can’t look away from the demon.

“Thank you for the gift,” the radio demon croons, “I look forward to receiving it.”

He brushes his fingers along Vox’s face, and Vox whimpers. He’s behaving like a fucking teenager, but he can’t fucking stop.

“Come,” Alastor says, unbothered, “let me invite you to drinks. A new bar has opened up, and I had planned to visit it with dear Husker sometime, but your company is much more pleasant! Come, come!”

Without waiting, he stalks on ahead and Vox only has time to stuff the toy into his bag before he runs after him.

The bar they go to is actually kind of fancy, not the usual garbage clubs Vox tends to visit. There’s even a stage, and a singer is performing. Well, at least Vox isn’t underdressed, even if these people aren’t his, well, people.

“Allie, I don’t think I fit in here. They’re all fancy and stuff.”

Vox presses against Alastor’s arm, his only shield against all the looks he surely must be getting.

“Bushwa! If they have a problem with you, they might dare and come to me. No, no, dear sheik, worry not your pretty square head. Come, let us try out the drinks. If they are bad, I mustn’t bring Husker here at all, ha!”

They wander over to the bar and Vox only really felt safe if he was physically pressed against the demon. Luckily, Alastor seems not to mind.

“Hello, my good man! Give us your best quilt, now will you?”

The barkeep just grunts, and complies.

“Shall we make it a competition, dear? Whoever of us can drink more?”

Vox pouts. “What do I get if I win?”

“So focused! If you win, love, then I might be persuaded to sleep in your bed tonight.”

“Get us all the drinks!”

Alastor laughs and Vox desperately tries to drink straight from the bottle. He can drink that twig under the table!

He, in fact, could not drink that twig under the table. Alastor is a fucking bottomless barrel. Like, seriously, where is storing all that alcohol? Vox can barely walk straight, and the only effect on Alastor seems to be a slight blushing of his cheeks. It’s fucking adorable, but that’s not the point!

“You should’ve said you can drink like you bein’ paid for it.”

Alastor laughs, a clear sound in the night. “I don’t recall you asking, darling. Never take a bet if you don’t know all the relevant factors. I’m win-orientated!”

An asshole, is what he is. An asshole Vox is sadly madly in love with.

“So, what did you win, exactly?”

The demon gives him a side-eye, smirking only.

“Why, I won my right to sleep wherever I want tonight! Also, of course, I won you, didn’t I?”

Before Vox can fully comprehend that sentence – he is drunk, after all – Alastor pushes him against the wall and presses himself along Vox’s body. Vox’s breath hitches and he’s blushing, not just because of the alcohol. It’s dark, and Alastor is so pretty. Vox wants him. He just fucking wants him so much. He bites his lip, and stares into the red eyes before him.

He wants to – he loves him. He wants to say it, but he doesn’t dare. Why not? It’s Valentine’s. Now’s the day he should be able to say it. But something stops him. Vox whimpers and puts his hands on Alastor’s waist – it’s so tiny, so thin and Vox presses against the body before him.

“Cash,” Vox doesn’t beg, because he’s a man and men don’t beg. Alastor curls his lip in a snarling smile and reaches forward, slow, always too slow. Vox opens his mouth in advance, waiting, eagerly waiting and he smell Alastor’s rancid breath already when voices sound from the corner.

“You the radio demon?”

Oh, Vox hates them and wants them to die.

Alastor turns his head towards the voices, but he hardly removes himself from the position he’s in. His upper lip is curled in the grimace of a smile and he blinks slowly.

“So sorry, gents, I’m not on air at the moment. If you have song requests, please keep them to yourselves.”

“Nah, you fucker, we’re here to beat you up.”

Alastor sighs and rolls his eyes. “Really,” he grumbles, only to Vox, “can’t they tell I’m busy?”

That’s him! That’s Vox! Vox is busy!

But he does push away from the nice position they’ve been in and he fully turns to the sinners that have started coming closer.

“Let’s do this quickly, then. Seven against one! It’s not like I stand a chance. My, what a bind I’m in! Whatever shall I do, woe be upon me.”

He’s undermining his own words by focusing on the dirt under his fingernails. He’s so fucking silly, Vox loves him. However, the sinners seem to take courage from it, as they begin to advance more quickly. Sobering up faster than Vox ever thought to be possible, he pushes himself from the wall, ready to stand with the demon.

“Hush, my love. Don’t get in the way. Stand there and look pretty, will you?”

The sinners are close now, and Alastor snaps his head around with a loud crack. It echoes in the alleyway they’re in and Vox – he expects to see something like he saw at the gala, but he doesn’t. Instead, Alastor rushes forward, faster than Vox even knew was possible and he lands exactly in the middle of the intruders. With black hands and claws, he swipes through the air, ripping two people in half. Blood splatters onto the ground and the other five shriek in terror, and they separate.

Alastor grins wide, more smile than anything else, and there’s blood on his cheek. Without missing a beat, he jumps after another two, smashing their heads against the nearby wall. They burst open like ripe watermelons. One of the remaining three finally fumbles out his gun, and he aims at Alastor with shaking hands. Vox gasps when he hears the shot – Alastor’s head jerks, and Vox wants to scream already, but the demon just laughs, deep and full on static. His head cracks back up and Vox can hear the sinner mutter a very heart-felt “fuck” before Alastor jumps him too, chomping his teeth on his head, ripping it clear off. The two that are still alive have scrambled back to the entry of the alleyway and Alastor turns his head, with the head of their, their leader, still in his mouth.

“Running already? But I’m not even done yet! Come! Come beat me up, I’m all open!”

As if to prove his point, he throws his arms to the side, laughing. The ripped off head falls to the ground with a wet sound and the sinners scream, and they run away.

Alastor turns around fully and starts stalking towards Vox – it’s only a handful of steps and Vox sinks to his knees. Alastor stops before him and he grins wide. With the moonlight behind him, he looks like he belongs exactly where he is. Vox presses his legs together, trying to get some friction. Slowly, Alastor bends over, never ever needing a spine and he grabs Vox’s face with bloody hands. He pulls Vox back up with him and slowly, too fast, slams him against the wall. There’s something fleshy moving in his eye socket and then Alastor presses himself up against Vox, kissing him. Needy, Vox whimpers and pawns at Alastor’s back, trying to press in closer. He can taste the sinner’s blood on Alastor’s tongue and he wants – he wants – it’s embarrassing, but oh gods, how he wants.

“I wanna fuck you,” he pants with hot breath against Alastor’s lips.

The demon growls in response and pushes his claws softly into Vox’s flesh. Vox’s hips buck forwards and he can’t help the wanton moan that escapes his throat.

“Hold onto me,” the demon rumbles in a low tone and he doesn’t need to say that twice. Desperate for his mouth again, Vox presses back in, kissing him again, wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders, fisting his hands into his hair.

It’s dark, then, and something feels cold and wrong, and when Vox opens his eyes, they’re in his shoebox. How did they – what - but Alastor pushes him back, onto the bed behind him. Vox catches himself on his elbows and he stares up. Half of Alastor’s face is smeared in blood, his eye is still a bloody, fleshy mess, and he tears his bowtie off.

“Undress to your liking.”

Vox must black out for a moment, but when he comes back to himself, he starts tearing his clothes off. He’s not gonna ask, and he’s gonna take it. This wasn’t how Vox had suspected today to go. And still, he’s a little insecure, so – he leaves his underwear on. Shyly, he glances up at the demon – he’s gotten rid of his bowtie, his suit jacket and his shoes, apparently. Well, Vox never thought he’d get to see Alastor’s shirt this clearly, although it is a bit of a shame.

The demon climbs on top of Vox, and presses him into the mattress. “Little sheik,” he croons with a voice as smooth as silver, “displease me, and I’ll rip you apart. But, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

Teasingly, he strokes a sharp, bloody claw along Vox’s throat and he whimpers. Yes. Yes, he would like that, actually. Alastor bends forward, and licks his tongue along Vox’s neck and he shivers. Instinctively, he spreads his legs and Alastor slots himself right in, as if he belongs there and gods – the things it does to Vox’s head. Sharp teeth tease at his Adam’s apple and he – he wants. He wants Alastor to push his teeth in, rip it out and swallow it down. Fuck, fuck, what in the hells is wrong with him?!

The demon sits back up again, still smiling. With his thumb, he wipes away some blood on his cheek and holds it close to Vox’s face – so close, and yet too far to lick it clean. Vox wants. He wants to lick it clean. The demon shuffles back and blindly, Vox follows. Alastor lets himself fall back onto the mattress, and Vox follows, hovering over him. He’s out of breath already.

Smiling like a cat, Alastor reaches his hand up, pushing his thumb into the corner of Vox’s mouth. But before he can properly start sucking and licking it, Alastor pulls him down and shoves his tongue between Vox’s teeth. He moans and shivers and he leans down, lets his body fall onto Alastor’s and he responds to the kiss with wild abandon. The demon’s dainty legs sling themselves around Vox’s hips and Vox could die right now and wouldn’t regret a thing. Well, maybe he wants to get off first, but that’s a secondary objective here.

Pulling his thumb out of his mouth, Alastor wraps his arms around Vox’s neck and pulls him impossibly closer. Vox rakes his fingers on his bedding, shredding his blanket but he doesn’t care. Heart beating up to his ears, he starts to grind forwards, fully expecting to be shoved off, to be slammed against the wall and threatened within an inch of his life and that wouldn’t be so bad either. But – Alastor doesn’t stop him. He simply shifts his legs a little and if Vox weren’t dead already, he’d surely die now.

Pushing the ball of his hand against Vox’s throat, Alastor temporarily interrupts their kiss to growl, deep and dark: “Do your worst.”

Then he pulls Vox back in, biting hard onto his tongue, and Vox rams his own claws into Alastor’s shoulders, holding him as close as he can as he starts rutting against him. He can feel the demon’s blood over his fingers and fuck, he’s getting high. His own blood pools in his mouth and he bites the demon back as good as he gets. In his mouth, their blood mixes and Vox can’t tell the taste apart anymore. He loves it. Fuck, he needs more, he needs everything.

“Allie,” he pants, desperate, “Allie, fuck, I need you, gods, I can’t –“

He starts rutting faster, and he’s expecting Alastor to stop him at any moment. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

Vox is different. He’s special, and only he gets this. Only him, only him, only him.

“Only me,” he growls, as deep as he can go, and he pushes his claws into Alastor’s throat. The demon looks up at him, with half-lidded eyes – eye, rather – and the tip of his tongue pokes out of his mouth. It’s full of blood. Vox breathes hard, tearing his claws down, leaving bloody streaks in his wake. Alastor doesn’t seem to mind and Vox roars, rutting faster, tearing his claws through the demon’s chest. He can feel Alastor’s claws scratch at the back of his neck and gods, he wants to. He wants them to kill each other in the bloodiest way.

Vox grunts and his thrusts become erratic. He’s so close, and Alastor’s legs are locked so tight around him. Gods, fuck, he doesn’t want to stop, how could he ever stop?

“Little fool,” Alastor croons in a deep, warbling voice, “do you want me to kill you?”

“Yes! Yes yes yes yes!” Vox shouts and he comes, smashing his lips against Alastor once again. The demon’s legs tighten around his hips and Vox is riding his high. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck he wants more, he needs more, he needs it again.

Pulling away, because he needs to fucking breathe, he sinks down onto the man below him, and he breathes hard next to the demon’s face. He feels cold claws trail along his spine and he moans, closing his eyes. He swallows, his throat dry as fuck. He doesn’t know what the fuck just happened. But frankly; he kind of doesn’t care. This was – fuck, this was better than he could’ve ever fucking dreamed of.

“Wait,” he pants, “did you – ?”

“Shush, sheik. Don’t push your luck.”

Vox’s heart stops for probably a little too long, but it’s okay. Fuck. He’s never expected that Valentine’s could go like this, that – that it could feel like this.

“Your eye,” he starts.

“It will be fine. Give me two days, and why, you’ll never even know it was gone at all!”

Alastor pushes him away and sits up, looking only a little rumpled. He’s bloody all over. Vox whimpers. He wants him. He wants him more than is healthy, probably, but what is he to do? He’s so gone, he’s so far gone.

“Stay here tonight. Allie – please. Just sleep next to me. I won’t touch you, but – please.”

Alastor blinks at him. He seems to contemplate the idea.

“So needy,” he comments, but falls back all the same. “I suppose you can hold my hand.”

Vox smiles, and he does. Alastor’s hand are ice-cold, and there’s blood that’s just starting to dry on them, but it’s perfect. It’s perfect and Vox – Vox wants things to never change.

In the morning, the demon is gone.

There’s a note in his stead, though: Rest well, little fool.

Vox smiles, and keeps the note close.

#hazbin hotel #writing #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #radiostatic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #hurt/comfort #irrlicht writes

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year

Note

Can you write something with a younger (older teen or young adult) sidekick who gets caught using their power to harm themselves

tw: sh

since I am not able to post much because of my beloved German internet connection, my husband helped me with this one: @epiclamer

Their first instinct was to shake the sidekick. To squeeze their shoulders and shake and shake until they would wake the fuck up and stop what they were doing.

The hero had never been good with the kid. For god’s sake, they weren’t a parent. It was too much responsibility, too much to worry about. It had never been a problem for them, their relationship to the kid had always been one of professional interest. They were here to help the hero. And since their regenerative powers had them covered, the hero didn’t have to worry about them dying.

Not in a short time of period, at least somewhere in the long run. Maybe.

But now, the hero was nearly furious.

“What are you doing?” The hero tried their damnedest not to shout. Shouting would only scare them. The sidekick was old enough — should have been old enough — to understand what kind of mistake they were making.

Upon hearing their voice, the sidekick hid their arm. They turned around, teary eyes looking to the floor.

“I—”

The hero’s voice quivered. “What are you doing?”

When the sidekick didn’t answer, the hero took a step forward. Yet, as the kid mirrored their movement and took a step back, the hero stopped.

“If there’s anything I did wrong, I—” Somehow it only crossed the hero’s mind now what this truly meant. “What is it? Please tell me. Please.”

Another step forward. Another one back. But the hero was faster this time. They caught the sidekick’s wrists, watching as the blood on their forearms trickled to the ground slowly.

“Did I do something wrong, did I…?” The hero didn’t understand. They didn’t comprehend why they would do this.

“I’m sorry—” they cried. They fell into the hero’s arms hugging them tightly. But the hero was frozen, barely even breathing as their brain tried to catch up.

They longed for an answer, for a reason, for anything that could explain why their beloved sidekick was doing this to themselves. Silent tears brimming their eyes and slowly falling down their cheeks.

The sidekick only hugged them tighter, trying to prod any sort of reaction out of their superior. They were never supposed to find out about this…

“Sidekick…” The hero’s throat formed a sickly feeling lump. Leaving their mouth dry and a stutter in their breaths.

“I-I’m so sorry… I’m so so so sorry…”

They shook their head, tears dropping onto their shaking sidekick. “Why. Why would you…”

Every last part of the sidekick’s heart had shattered. Watching the one they loved and admired be so upset—so disappointed—with them.

The feeling of guilt only crawled from their stomach to their throat and the sidekick tasted bile.

“I— I don’t know—”

“Don’t. Don’t lie to me.” The hero’s eyes flicked back down to their sidekick’s arm, tears blurring their vision as they clenched their jaw and ground their teeth.

They were still bleeding, most of their strength had gone into healing the wound, but their powers were susceptible to emotions and with the outburst they ran haywire. Not properly sewing back up their skin as it left jagged white lines in its wake.

It took every last fibre in the hero’s body to not lose their head. They needed to stay calm. They needed to be strong for their sidekick, like always, right?

But what if it was their fault? What if they were the reasoning behind sidekick’s self harm? Then what?

“Hero, I swear I—”

The hero took a deep breath, staring down at the blood and at their distraught friend. Settling for the decision they thought was best before they dared speak.

“We can talk later. Just please, please tell me it’s not my fault?”

#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #sidekick #heroxvillain #hero x villain #tw:sh

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aces-fav-husband · 2 years

Text

Straw Hat Pirates Halloween/Autumn Headcanons!

Tags: SFW, GN! reader, can be read as platonic or romantic (minus Chopper’s part, which is purely platonic), literally just what the title says.

Warnings: None!

A/N: Happy Halloween! I think I wrote a lot more for Franky and Robin than I did for anyone else, but please enjoy my silly little headcanons. <3

Luffy

This boy loves everything about Halloween. It’s easily his favorite time of the year.

Him, Sabo, and Ace would work on their costumes for days on end, using whatever they could scavenge up in Grey Terminal, Dadan’s shack, and random shit they found in the woods.

Absolutely went as Shanks at least once.

Makino would always insist on making costumes for the three of them, but would always get turned down. This was something the brothers bonded (and competed) over and they wanted to do it without help.

If she finds their costumes, though, she will do her best to touch up their shoddy stitching while they were away.

Luffy, Ace, and Sabo have definitely tried to trick-or-treat in High Town to get the best candy. It’s the perfect time to sneak in- no one would question a couple of little kids running around in masks and shitty costumes, right? It’s just part of the spooky Halloween aesthetic, isn’t it?

Yeah, they stood out like sore thumbs among all the store-bought, clean, not-spooky costumes.

Luffy still makes his own costumes every year, and he has the weirdest and most poorly-made costumes you’ve ever seen. He puts in a ton of effort, though. Every costume is made with his own blood, sweat, and tears, and he takes a lot of pride in them.

“What are you supposed to be, Luffy?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

It isn’t. He’s supposed to be a vampire, but looks more like a starved, mangy gorilla.

He throws a mandatory costume party on the Thousand Sunny every Halloween. There is no getting out of it. If you try to get out of it, Luffy will whine your ears off until you agree and then drag you back to his room so you can help him with his costume.

He still sucks at sewing.

Help him make his costume and he will love you forever. He’ll try to help you with your costume in return, of course.

If you bought a costume, he’ll try to “upgrade” it. How he thought werewolf fur would be an upgrade to what was supposed to be an angel costume, you had no idea. It’s the thought that counts, I guess.

He also eats all the candy and sweets Sanji prepares. Sanji has to prepare extra batches in secret just so you and the rest of the crew can eat.

Knocks himself out pretty quickly, though. He parties hard and crashes even harder after all that sugar. Will fall asleep on you and get clingy.

I feel like his favorite Halloween treat would be caramel apples, especially if Sanji goes the extra mile to make them Halloween-themed. A caramel apple that looks like meat on the bone, completed with some “scary” blood (red food dye), is something he will go insane for.

Zoro

Zoro also loves Halloween, but for all the wrong reasons.

Any holiday used as an excuse to drink sake, and Halloween is no exception. This man gets absolutely plastered during Luffy’s party.

You will have to pry the bottle of sake out of his cold, dead hands after his liver fails.

Chopper is so concerned. Please babysit Zoro so he doesn’t actually die.

This mf cannot be trusted around kids during Halloween. If the Sunny is docked at some random island, he’ll find a way to sneak off (probably intending to buy more sake) and end up terrorizing the trick-or-treaters. Will scare the shit out of them and laugh.

Will scare the shit out of you and laugh.

No one is safe, except for Chopper (unless he’s really drunk).

Tells super shitty scary stories.

For the love of god, don’t let Zoro leave the ship. You will not be able to find him for the rest of the night. Don’t let him go alone, at least.

If you go with him, good luck.

If there’s some sort of haunted house close by, you guys will end up going in there.

Huge plus if you scare easily. He feels strong and dependable when you cling onto him. And he’ll poke fun at you for getting startled by the jump scares.

If you don’t scare easily, then you can both make fun of the shitty jump scares.

Zoro puts in no effort when it comes to his costume. Either buys a really shitty mask from the store or goes crazy with the fake blood. Sometimes both.

Always incorporates his swords into his costumes, too.

“What are you, Zoro?”

“A zombie swordsman.”

“All you did was put fake blood on your old clothes, though.”

“And?”

Compare him to a used menstrual product and he’ll kill you. Possibly already got into a fight with Sanji over that.

He’s probably one of the last people awake, even if he is extremely drunk. You’ll have to drag him to bed while he mutters nonsense.

His hangover the next day is horrible. He will not be able to do anything. Either tries to sleep it off or complains about it endlessly. He wants you to stay with him in both circumstances.

Zoro isn’t a big fan of sweets, so I don’t think he has a favorite Halloween treat.

Nami

Nami loves all things autumn, Halloween included! Just not the scary shit.

Hay rides, corn mazes, pumpkin patches, apple orchards, fall festivals- she loves it all (except for carving pumpkins because they smell like ass). If she gets the chance to go to any of those, she will take it and drag you along with her.

Will also drag you along with her when she goes shopping. Although that activity isn’t a fall-exclusive one, she still loves it. Will try to get you to buy a matching outfit.

Also makes Sanji get pumpkin spice as soon as it starts being sold again. In a modern AU, she would get that Starbucks pumpkin spice shit all the time.

She loves baking. Bakes an excessive amount of pies and cookies and pumpkin breads (just another reason for Luffy to love autumn).

Bellemere absolutely went all out during Halloween/autumn for Nami and Nojiko (to the best of her ability), so October is a super nostalgic and a slightly melancholy time for her. Especially since she couldn’t celebrate for a long time because of Arlong.

She wants to spend as much time with you and the rest of the crew as she can and go all out with decorations. Will absolutely talk about old memories of hers if you give her the chance.

But onto the actual Halloween headcanons.

Nami would take you to go costume shopping with her, but would buy it behind your back and keep her costume a secret up until the night of Luffy’s party. Her and Usopp would try to do a group costume theme, likely dragging you and Chopper into it while they’re at it.

Either works perfectly or everyone’s theme ideas are too different, so you scrap the plan.

You know that one quote from Mean Girls?

“In Girl World, Halloween is the one day a year when a girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girls can say anything else about it."

This 100% applies to Nami. She will pull out the sluttiest costume you’ve ever seen.

Like… you’ve seen lingerie that covers more skin.

“Is this supposed to be your costume..?”

“Obviously. I’m a cat- didn’t you see the ears?”

She’s just wearing lingerie with a cat ear headband.

Loves Luffy’s mandatory costume party. She’s the one that decorates for it, helps Sanji with the food, and plans out all the activities. She wants everyone to have as much fun as possible, so there are lots of party games and themed sweets.

Will get into a drinking competition with Zoro if you and the crew place bets on them. She’d do it for some extra cash.

Will get fucked up and you’ll have to send her to bed early, but she’ll have no regrets (if she won). All smiles and happy that she got to spend the night with the people she loves.

I feel like her favorite Halloween treat would be fruit flavored gummies, but her favorite fall treat would be peach and berry cobbler. She also hates candy corn.

Usopp

Similar to Nami, Usopp loves autumn and all the festivities that come with it, but he lowkey hates Halloween.

Like, he enjoys the pumpkin carvings and the costume making, but he hates all the scary stuff that comes with a holiday like Halloween. Haunted houses? Spooky decor? Monsters? No thank you. He could barely handle Brook.

A victim of Zoro’s scares. </3

Will get upset with you if you purposefully scare him or set him up to be scared. Be nice to him please.

Swamps himself with personal projects for October. You’re always invited to hang out with him in his workshop as he distracts himself with his creations (and hides from Zoro).

Make sure you drag him out every now and then to do non-spooky activities. I suggest a petting zoo or some sort of farm. Maybe a nice hike to take in the beautiful scenery.

Absolutely loves bonfires and making s’mores. Just don’t tell any scary stories, okay? His heart can’t handle that.

He also loves autumn candles, cinnamon brooms, and scented pinecones. Him and his workshop smell so goddamn good.

This man is the king of carving/painting pumpkins. He makes the coolest designs every year and he has a lot of pride in that. He wins any competition having to do with aesthetics. He always harvests the seeds for Sanji to roast.

He makes the autumn decorations for Nami. Wreathes, cute scarecrows, little paper leaves to string up around the Sunny- that kind of stuff.

Also this man totally crochets and knits shit for you and everyone else on the crew. Expect a sweater when it starts getting cold.

Him and Robin work together to make Chopper’s costume. With the two of them collaborating, they make literal art for the reindeer. Will make you a costume if you ask.

Obviously makes his own costume. He’ll go as less scary versions of classic monsters or heroes from whatever comic books he finds in the New World. Asks for your input when he hits mental roadblocks.

“Hey (Name), do you think my costume would look better if I added this to it?”

Shows up fashionably late to Luffy’s party. Which is completely intentional and not because he started questioning some of his design choices for his costume and had to make some last minute changes.

Spends a lot of the night eating and dancing.

Is super proud of himself when he wins a game and gets smug about it.

He knocks himself out pretty early, but not as early as Chopper. Wakes up glad that Halloween is finally over and still feels some residual pride after winning.

Usopp’s favorite Halloween treats are pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. He’s festive like that. Keeps a jar of them in his workshop so he can snack while he works.

Sanji

Sanji did not give a shit about Halloween for the longest time. He couldn’t really celebrate it with his family (“you’re above that”) or on the Baratie, so Halloween was just another day for him.

That is, until he found out about slutty costumes.

Now he goes crazy for Halloween every year.

Other than that, he doesn’t really have any interest in the holiday.

He is, however, very interested in the farmers markets that always pop up at this time.

He’ll invite you to go with him and help him pick out the best seasonal ingredients.

Corn, apples, potatoes, squashes, sweet potatoes, eggplants. Also snags some spices so he can make a pumpkin spice blend for Nami.

Like this mf gets everything. You struggle to keep up with him as he explains what dishes he’s going to make with all the produce.

Would also go apple/berry picking with you. He finds the ripest, sweetest fruits ever.

Him and Nami exchange new dessert recipes all the time.

The kitchen has seasonal decorations, but nothing flammable and nothing close to the stove/oven. (Luffy tried to hang one of Usopp’s wreaths above the stove and almost caused a fire.)

Doesn’t really give a shit about his own costume, but he always looks really good in whatever he picks.

He goes for simple costumes that don’t heavily alter his appearance. Think butlers, vampires, devils, cowboys, etc.

He does buy a ton of accessories for his costumes, though.

“Do you really need this for your costume?”

Yes he does.

Spends all day working on the food for Luffy’s party, with the help of Nami and you. Super spent at the end of it, but very proud and happy.

Makes the food Halloween themed and tries to give it some nutritional value.

He also makes actual food and snacks and not just desserts/candies.

Sanji definitely wasn’t the biggest fan of the Halloween party at first, but it very quickly grew on him (totally not because of the sexy costumes).

Absolutely shits on Zoro for the insane amount of fake blood he uses on his costume. Zoro shits on him for picking a boring costume.

He has a ton of fun at the party though.

Doesn’t get as wasted as Zoro, but does drink.

Drunk Sanji is super funny tbh. Cracks some really funny jokes and manages to tell some really good stories.

Is complete ass at some of the games, but he doesn’t care. He can have fun without winning.

Another person who goes to sleep kinda early.

Sanji’s favorite Halloween treat would be chocolate covered pretzels, maybe peanut brittle. He loves the combination of salty and sweet. I also feel like he would enjoy black licorice.

Chopper

Chopper had never heard of Halloween. Well, he’s heard of it, but never really knew what it was.

Whenever he and Dr. Kureha traveled around Drum to help people in October, it was all the children talked about.

Dr. Kureha would always brush him off when he asked about it, saying that it wasn’t anything he should preoccupy himself with (she didn’t want him to get hurt again).

But once that he’s with the Straw Hats and they explain the concept to him? He goes fucking crazy for it now.

Not for the horror aspect of it, but he adores the costumes and the trick-or-treating.

This mf also goes crazy for fall festivals.

When you finally stop at an island that has a fall festival, Chopper practically drags you off the Sunny to go.

Agua frescas, funnel cakes, donuts, cookies, fried chocolate bars, huge ice cream cones, cotton candy, milkshakes, etc. He loves all the shit that you can eat/drink there as long as it’s sweet.

Ends up getting a bad stomach ache though.

Gets kinda frustrated and sad when he struggles to win any prizes.

You have to explain to him that the games at the festival aren’t meant for you to win and he gets mad at the people running the games for scamming.

You finally win (or steal) a massive stuffed animal for him and he loves it. He shows it off to everyone when you finally get back to the Sunny.

He is in awe of the color of the leaves. They’re just so pretty and he’s never seen anything like it.

He likes stepping on the super crunchy ones.

That gives you the idea to make a massive pile of leaves for him to play in.

He loves it. Makes leaf-angels, throws leaves everywhere, buries himself.

He invites you to play with him and you both have a blast.

He never has to worry about his costume, since Robin and Usopp always make it for him.

His costumes are always adorable, even if he’s supposed to be a monster or something spooky.

“Your costume is so cute, Chopper! Are you a bat?”

“It’s supposed to be scary!”

Him and Luffy party so hard on Halloween night.

Eats almost as much candy as Luffy and passes out in a similar way.

Dances with you and plays as many games as he can before the sugar crash takes him out.

You have to carry him back to his bed before he falls asleep on the floor. He has a smile on his face and thanks you for making everything extra fun.

Chopper’s favorite Halloween candy would be candy corn and those pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies.

Robin

As a kid, Robin used to love Halloween and go all out for it.

All the archeologists would decorate the library inside the Tree of Knowledge with things like fake spider webs, paper ghosts, and small pumpkins to make it fun for Robin.

She always had the cutest costumes. She would dress up as her favorite book characters or archeologists she looked up to.

She wanted to stay inside and continue studying, but the professors managed to convince her to go outside and be a kid.

Would share her candy with Professor Clover and everyone else and end up passing out at the library.

She has not celebrated Halloween once since the fall of Ohara.

Not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t. She either couldn’t go out without fear of being recognized or whoever she was working under at the time wouldn’t let her.

Fast forward and she’s with you and the Straw Hats. She’s finally able to celebrate it again and she is lowkey excited.

Reads scary stories and gothic novels all October to get herself into the spooky mood.

She’ll invite you to sit next to her by the campfire as she tells everyone the most horrific scary story you have ever heard. Usopp dies inside.

Her morbid sense of humor really comes out at this time of the year, which is occasionally directed towards Brook.

If there’s a haunted house/hay ride, scary maze, escape room, or anything else like that, Robin will going and will be taking you with her.

Chuckles if you get scared and tries to warn you when there’s an upcoming jumpscare (she can see them coming from a mile away).

Out of all of the scary activities, escape rooms are her favorite. The majority of the time she can figure them out easily, but once every blue moon, there’s an escape room that requires more effort than usual.

Always let’s you help out with the puzzles. Escape rooms are really boring if only one person is doing all the work. She wants it to be fun for both of you, not just her.

Bonus points if you both are actively being chased/hunted while in the escape room. The added tension is so exciting for her, even if it isn’t particularly scary.

She would also love petting zoos. Her favorite animals are the goats. They’re just so goofy and she can’t help but love them.

Robin makes her own costumes and they are always beautiful.

Definitely goes for a classic gothic vampire for her first Halloween with you and the Straw Hats.

Goes the extra mile with accessories.

“Wow, Robin, your costume is gorgeous! I love the fake bone jewelry.”

“Thank you, but these are real.”

You can’t tell if she’s serious or if it’s her sense of humor.

In a modern AU, she would try to get you, Franky, and Chopper to all go as the Addams Family. Chopper is Pugsley and you and Franky have to fight over who’s going to be Gomez and Wednesday. Robin serves cunt as Morticia.

She’s always the first one to show up for the Halloween party.

Wins quite a few of the party games that Nami set up, much to Usopp’s chagrin. She lets him win a few to boost his ego.

Takes you to dance with her when Brook plays slower songs, listening to you talk about whatever you’ve been up to leading up to the party.

Drinks a lot of red wine, but doesn’t get plastered like Nami and Zoro. Looks elegant as hell while she’s drinking in her costume.

She’s the last one to go to bed. If you stay up with her, she’ll tell you a little about her past Halloweens and forgotten traditions.

Robin’s favorite Halloween treat is sour gummy worms. She loves sour candies and the fact that they resemble worms makes them perfect for Halloween.

Franky

Franky fucking loves Halloween. Always has, always will. If Halloween has 1,000,000 fans, Franky is one of them. If Halloween has 1,000 fans, Franky is one of them. If Halloween has 1 fan, it’s Franky.

Loved going Trick-or-Treating with Tom, Kokoro, and Iceburg. Halloween was something they all loved and they celebrated it with gusto.

He still competed with Iceburg, though. Who had the better costume? Who got the most candy? Who could finish their work in time to go Trick-or-Treating?

Iceburg usually took that last one.

But the sentiment carried over after Tom’s death and Franky grew up.

The Halloween parties that the Franky Family would throw were insane. Nobody outside of the Family was invited, but tons of people turn up anyway.

Like, Franky knows how to throw a party. Tons of food, booze, and cola were present, along with good company. These guys would go crazy for hours.

No one in Water 7 gets sleep on Halloween because the Family will be blasting music into the early hours of the morning.

He is always so hyped for Luffy’s Halloween party. He will talk your ears off about all his plans for October and the party.

He loves going apple picking. There’s something so very therapeutic about being in the orchard and finding the best apples with you.

He makes his own homemade cider with the apples you both picked, which is pretty damn good.

He’s also a sucker for cookouts. Sanji usually handles all the cooking, but Franky will be on the grill. Don’t argue with him.

It isn’t on par with what Sanji makes, but he puts his heart into those hotdogs and burgers.

Makes a really good steak, too. Once again, not Sanji-levels of good, but the man knows his way around a grill.

Would go into shock if you asked him for a well done steak. Why would you do that to a perfectly good piece of meat?!

Always helps to set up for the bonfires.

Makes the most s’mores. He always sets the marshmallows on fire, though. He claims that charred marshmallows are the best.

You can hear the crispness of the poor mallow as he bites into it. That mf is fossilized.

Builds animatronics for the party and they are the coolest things ever. They look so realistic and scary and they’re amazing.

Modern AU Franky would recreate FNAF as per Luffy’s request. The Bite of ‘87 will happen.

Franky also makes his own costumes.

Well, he makes the accessories. He has to buy the clothing part of it. It’s not that he can’t sew- he can -it’s just that he sucks at making clothes.

He prefers to go as traditional monsters like Frankenstein, werewolves, ghosts, etc.

He also will put on Halloween makeup. Will gladly let you apply it for him if you’re good with makeup.

One of the only times he will put on pants is if he’s wearing a costume. Even then, he tries to think of ways to still achieve the look he’s going for without wearing them.

He loves matching/themed costumes. If you match with him, it’ll make his year. He gets so happy and excited.

“We look super good, (Name)!”

Goes so hard during Luffy’s party. He has been looking forward to it for weeks and he is not afraid to let the world know that.

He drinks a ton of his homemade cider and cracks a bunch of jokes.

Loves everything about the party. He wants to do everything he possibly can.

He’s the first to start dancing and convinces you and your crewmates to get out onto the dance floor with him.

He’s really good at dancing tbh. Dancing with him is a blast.

Gets wiped out after a while and has to sit down and recharge with a cola. There’s a 50/50 chance that he will end up falling asleep before he can get to the cola.

Franky doesn’t really have a favorite Halloween treat, but he loves anything homemade. He destroys all of Nami and Sanji’s baked goods. If you make him something, he will gladly eat it and tell you it was super delicious.

Brook

Brook feels pretty neutral about Halloween. He hasn’t celebrated it since he was a kid and doesn’t have much interest in celebrating it now (unless partying is involved).

His favorite part about this Halloween is that no one bats an eye at him being a skeleton. And that he gets to make 10x more skeleton jokes than usual.

(And the sexy costumes.)

He loves autumn, though! His first autumn outside of the Florian Triangle makes him really emotional.

Gets pretty melancholy when he thinks about how much of his life that he missed, but is very grateful to be alive in that moment.

If you really like Halloween, he will gladly participate in Halloween activities with you.

He’s not a huge fan of haunted houses or corn mazes.

He has gone to haunted houses with you before and he ends up scaring the actors when they realize he’s a real skeleton.

He has to turn down multiple job offers.

He really likes pumpkin patches and fall festivals, though!

They’re so lively and colorful and they make him feel happy to be alive. Especially seeing how excited the other people (and you) are to be there.

Speaking of colorful, he loves going on nature walks and taking in the color of the leaves changing. He’ll collect any leaves that he thinks are especially pretty and show them to you.

Being out in the wild with all the natural beauty inspires him.

He writes multiple songs while he’s out there. The majority of them are rock and roll, but there are some more classical songs mixed in there.

You’re the first one to listen to all his new songs.

He’ll whip out his old fiddle and play hauntingly beautiful music, then switch to his guitar and put on a Soul King performance.

He also loves walking around and looking at all the Halloween decorations with you. Brook loves seeing people be passionate about things, even if it’s something he doesn’t have much interest in.

When it comes to costumes, he usually just buys something related to the dead/undead.

Ghosts, zombies, the Headless Horseman- that kinda stuff.

You could throw a white sheet over him and recreate that one Spongebob Halloween special.

BUT, if he finds a really good silicone mask that looks mostly human, he will wear it for shits and giggles.

“I’m just bones underneath! Yohohohoho!”

Thinks that it’s peak humor.

He always parties hard and Luffy’s Halloween party is no exception.

He’ll bust out the new rock songs he wrote earlier that month and preform them for everyone.

Drinks a lot of booze and gets wasted.

Also gets a lot more vulgar.

But he keeps the mood lighthearted and cracks just as many jokes as Franky.

At some point does stand up comedy when he gets drunk enough.

It’s not bad.

Ends off the night with one final song before heading to bed.

Brook would say that his favorite Halloween treat is candy bones, but it’s really anything with peanut butter.

Jinbe

Jinbe is also really neutral about Halloween.

It isn’t really celebrated by anyone in the Fishman District, excluding a few young children who were fascinated by human culture.

It is celebrated in Ryugu, though.

When he first returned to Fishman Island, he was asked to participate in some of the Halloween activities.

He gave out either the best or the worst candy and didn’t dress up for it.

He doesn’t know what the point of Halloween is.

Doesn’t really get the appeal of the horror aspect of it, either. Why would you intentionally scare yourself?

He’ll still go with you to haunted houses and listen to you talk about anything horror-related, of course.

He prefers the Trick-or-Treating and costume aspects of the holiday. It’s kinda strange but cute.

Since this is his first time celebrating Halloween with you and the Straw Hats, you have to explain a few of the traditions to him.

In exchange, he shares some of the Fishman Island traditions with you.

Pumpkin carving/painting becomes a favorite activity of his quickly. Not only is it fun, but he likes the idea behind it.

He likes the outdoor activities, like picking out pumpkins at the pumpkin patch and bonfires.

Jinbe tells the best bonfire stories ever. They aren’t scary (that’s Robin’s job), but they are super entertaining and funny.

He sets a few marshmallows on fire, but not intentionally. Eventually he gets the hang of it and roasts golden brown marshmallows every time.

He gives them to you, Chopper, and Luffy since he isn’t the biggest on sweets.

He also likes going to the fall festival with everyone.

He goes on a few of the rides with you, but they aren’t his favorite things in the world. He prefers the games.

He is godly at carnival games. There isn’t a game that he can’t win.

When it comes to costumes, Jinbe doesn’t put much effort into them.

He usually just throws something together with whatever’s in his closet.

Doesn’t overdo it with accessories either.

Tbh he doesn’t know what he’s going for, he’s just throwing shit on that’s vaguely Halloween-esque.

“What are you, Jinbe?”

It’s whatever you think it is. You gotta use your imagination.

He participates in all the party activities, but he spends most of his time drinking with Zoro and talking to you about life.

He will start dancing once Franky gets on the floor. He’s a good dancer tbh.

He participates in a few of the games and activities at your request, but usually sits out.

Wins any card games.

He makes sure everyone is where they’re supposed to be and alive before he goes to his room.

Thanks you for a fun night before he goes to sleep.

Jinbe’s favorite Halloween treat isn’t much of a “treat”- it’s pumpkin soup. He likes how smooth it is and loves the taste of pumpkin.

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ebimdae22 · 2 years

Text

I really need a Jake Seresin who is just a dick for the sake of it. No traumatic back story, no terrible family, no hidden insecurities, just Jake being a fucking asshole because that’s just how he is. Jake being cocky and mean and blunt with no fucking reasoning behind it. Give him a loving family and an easy upbringing and make him the best god damn pilot there is and still let him be a jerk.

I don’t see this a whole lot and I feel like it’s missing from my life. Like yeah you could give him a redemption and change of heart after The Mission™️, or you could just let him continue being the worst. I fully believe he could fit into the dagger squad dynamic perfectly and still be himself. Like these guys can give as good as they get, and they know that hangman loves them but they also know that’s just The Way He Is.

Because he could also be kind, you don’t have to be a nice person to be a good person. Jake doing favors for his friends without being asked, seeing someone struggling and silently helping. Jake standing up for his squad in all kinds of ways, Jake being a dick one minute and then checking up on them the next.

Give me a Jake who brings Natasha lunch when he knows she hasn’t ate all day and then teases her about needing a babysitter.

Give me a Jake who makes fun of Bradley’s clothes but when he noticed one of his shirts has a hole, sews it up without Bradley knowing.

Give me a Jake who makes sures Callie and Natasha’s drinks are safe when they go to an off base bar. Give me a Jake who will destroy a man with only his words when they get too close to the girls.

Give me a Jake who will make fun of Bob and Fanboy but as soon as someone else does he refocuses his energy on them, but this time he really means it.

Give me a Jake who is mean and cocky but also cares about his squad so fucking much.

#I just love Jake being an asshole #Jake is my self insert character I’m sorry #this is me coming out as an asshole #I am mean and I want Jake to be too #top gun maverick #tgm #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #natasha pheonix trace #robert bob floyd #mickey fanboy garcia #callie halo bassett #callie halo shen

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whumpshaped · 11 months

Text

first

idk what to say this got entirely out of hand. i just spent last night and this morning typing this out on my phone in a daze, trying to get to a point where i could finally cut it off

tw needles, stitches, fear of friend dying, just a high stress situation altogether

Surprisingly, Caretaker proved to be very good at pushing personal differences aside for Whumpee's sake, even taking some orders from Whumper without snarky remarks.

"Maybe we should stay friends," Whumper said casually. "We make a pretty good team. At least when you're quiet."

Caretaker could swear they felt their eye twitch. "Imagine how good of a team we'd make if both of us were quiet."

"You're right. I also feel like we've gotten close enough to understand each other without words."

"Could you shut the fuck up?" they snapped, before immediately taking a deep, calming breath, directing their eyes back to the wound. "We both want them alive, right? So let me focus."

"I don't know. I'm starting to think I don't care that much about them."

Caretaker's eyes snapped to Whumper again, despite them desperately trying to work out the suture situation. "I will fucking kill you if you don't stop fucking around. I swear. And if Whumpee dies, I'll also kill you. You will not leave this stupid place alive unless Whumpee is okay."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," they said with a self-assured smile. "I'm just saying-"

"Don't. Don't say anything."

If sewing their best friend back together wasn't stressful enough, Caretaker could feel Whumper's gaze on them the entire time. Obviously, they must've been joking. And obviously, this was just another attempt to get on their nerves. But they were almost done, and Whumpee was almost stable.

"It's admirable, the way you handled this," Whumper remarked once the stitches were all in place and they could catch their breath. "I wonder how many people would let their friend die just out of spite. On principle. Because they wouldn't take orders from me, wouldn't trust me-"

"Just two minutes. Can I just have two minutes in peace?" Caretaker buried their face in their hands, feeling like they were about to cry. The anxiety and adrenaline was catching up to them. "You're seriously starting to sound like you're flirting with me or something. It's gross. Shut up. Leave us alone."

Caretaker didn't look up, hoping that if they didn't acknowledge Whumper, they'd just disappear. And it worked. No more comments, not for several minutes. They could almost imagine it was just the two of them again, them and Whumpee. And when the silence was finally broken, it was in a way they'd never expected.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I talk when I'm nervous."

They scoffed, raising their head to look at Whumper- only to find that they really did look pretty spent. "Wait, are you serious? What the fuck were you nervous about?"

"I told you, I wanted them alive. Throughout this whole ordeal, I had no idea if we could actually pull it off. I was fucking nervous the whole time."

"And our legendary duel is still yet to come."

"Oh, no, god no." They put up both hands in a lighthearted gesture of surrender. "I'm done. This was enough excitement for today. You actually complied with me to save them, I guess that's like... proof of your golden heart and whatever, and the power of friendship, and I was actually just testing you all along, and... whatever else your fairy godmother would say."

"So you're just... letting us leave?"

"Yeah. I'm done. I'm exhausted. You promise you won't try to press charges, I promise I won't come after you."

"What?" Caretaker wanted to argue. Of course they were going to press charges. But right now... Whumper didn't have to know that. "I mean- that's... kinda scummy, but... yeah, sure, fine."

Whumper nodded. They didn't even question their answer. Instead, they vaguely gestured towards where they sat. "Can I sit with you? The rocks are digging into my ass, and it's really uncomfortable."

"If you stay quiet."

They pretended to zip up their mouth, scooting over to take the rockless space next to Caretaker in complete silence.

Caretaker had no idea what to think at this point. The stress of the rescue, the gunshot, being found... being on high alert the entire time, while also being laserfocused on saving Whumpee's life... having to work together with the fucker who caused all of it... They were tired. And as much as they hated to admit, the experience sort of... humanised Whumper in their mind. This guy wasn't a vicious torturer. They were a disturbed idiot, apparently more than capable of some stage-fright, who was still willing to threaten them into somehow giving expert first aid.

Right now, Whumper was just resting like anyone else would be after a huge operation. It must've been the exhaustion, but for a brief moment, Caretaker thought they really could've been friends. In another life. One in which they didn't kidnap Whumpee.

"Stop staring. It makes me nervous. And if I get nervous, I'll just start blabbering, and you don't want-"

"Fine, jeez. Go to therapy, sort out your weird anxiety. And the other stuff."

This too, this weird banter. It was too human. Since when did they feel comfortable enough to say shit like that to Whumper? An hour ago they had been terrified. And why wasn't Whumper retaliating?

More minutes passed in silence, with Caretaker constantly checking whether Whumpee was awake yet. Whumper didn't want to leave until they saw that Whumpee really was okay, and Caretaker wouldn't have let them anyway. 'You will not leave this stupid place alive unless Whumpee is okay.' That was what they'd said, and they meant it.

"Why aren't they waking up?" Caretaker asked impatiently. "It's been a while already."

Whumper turned around to see Whumpee in the same position they'd left them in. "Touch the wound for me."

"What?"

"Either you touch it or I do. See if it's a little too warm."

Caretaker didn't have the energy to argue. Besides, Whumper didn't seem like they were joking, and if possible, Caretaker would've like to avoid them touching Whumpee any more than necessary. They crawled a little closer, gently placing a hand on top of the skin around the wound. "It's pretty warm."

"See if they have a fever."

Caretaker moved their hand to Whumpee's forehead and cheeks, grimacing at the unnatural warmth. "Fuck. Fuck. Of course it'd get infected! Why did we even do this outside?"

"Where else? Did you want to do it in my house?"

"No! We should've called an ambulance! You should've let me call one!" They turned around, their rage completely reignited.

"I'm not letting you call others onto my property," Whumper said calmly. Of course. How could they forget, for even a moment? Whumper was still a fucking monster. "We can bring them inside, clean the wound again, and give them some medicine." When Caretaker opened their mouth to argue, they added, "That's the final offer."

"I thought we were a team now. Friends. Whatever the fuck." They hated how the desperation came through in their voice, despite all their efforts to hide it.

"That's why I'm offering to help treat them in my home. And also because I can't just drag them there alone. Again, it's... a two-men job."

Caretaker took less time to think about accepting this way riskier type of help than the first time, when it was just treating a gunshot wound and some other injuries out in the open. Was Whumper getting in their head? Subtly conditioning them to trust their stupid suggestions? They didn't have time to analyse their behaviour. Or did they? Maybe it wasn't even as urgent as Whumper was making it seem. No, that was dumb, of course an infection was urgent. God, they needed rest, they needed their brain to be working.

"Fine, okay, just- just don't let them die. I can't watch them die. I just got them back-"

"Whether they live or die is entirely dependent on you. I'm giving you all the help I can, actually."

Caretaker groaned in frustration. "Don't phrase it like that. Like I just need to accept all this graciously offered, professional help. I don't even know if the infection was caused by an earnest mistake or you. Maybe you want to lure me inside! Maybe-"

"Caretaker." Whumper's stern voice made them stop mid-conspiracy. "The sooner we catch the infection, the better. Come on."

While they were bringing Whumpee back into their personal house of horrors, Caretaker couldn't help but feel extremely uneasy. This felt like a mistake, on every level. And why was Whumper scolding them like they were nothing but a petulant child? Their concerns were entirely valid! Reasonable!

They wanted to fucking explode. This entire day was a mindfuck, and they just didn't have the mental energy to stay on top of everything all the time. They desperately needed someone to lean on, someone to trust... and Whumper seemed to be changing up their stupid personality to fit whatever Caretaker wanted at the time, making it way too easy to give in and just blindly trust their help, even if that went against every single rational thought in their head.

Manipulating them.

Caretaker rubbed their eyes, trying to focus on cleaning the wound again, this time with better equipment, in a more sterile environment. They just had to stay vigilant.

Quite vigilant of you to accept this offer, and come into the lion's den of your own accord. And bring Whumpee, injured, unconscious, and defenceless.

They couldn't beat themself up for it now. They had to focus. They'd beat themself up for it later.

"Not that it counts from me," Whumper's voice startled them, and they almost dropped the cotton pad, "but we both have limited options here. It's quite the shitshow, and I don't think either of us are very happy with the set-up."

"Okay, Mother Teresa."

"Oh, shut up. I just hate to watch you work with that stupid, kicked puppy face. I'm just telling you to save the fucking self-loathing for later. You're clearly trying your best to help them."

Vigilant. They had to stay vigilant. They couldn't let the fucking enemy's aggressive positive feedback fill their heart with warmth and security. They couldn't. It didn't even make them want to smile, not even a little. Their perpetual scowl was very well protected from such attacks.

God, what was wrong with them?

They looked at Whumpee's blissfully unconscious face, wondering if this entire thing would mean the end of their friendship. But there was no one else around to help... Their friendship would've ended with Whumpee's death too. At least now there was a chance...

"See, that's why I said what I said. But now you're crying anyway, so really, what was the point," Whumper grumbled.

"Yeah, well, maybe try having feelings sometime, see how you get on," they shot back, petty insult made even more pathetic by their sniffling. "Just leave me alone. I'm tired of your stupid act. I can finish this alone."

"Yeah. But I won't let you." Whumper pulled out one of the kitchen chairs, taking a seat across from where Caretaker stood. "It's not like I don't trust you... it's just, you know... I don't trust you."

"I trusted you this whole fucking time, despite you causing all of this!"

"Trusted me enough to leave me alone with Whumpee?"

Caretaker had to hold themself back from punching the nearest wall. "No! No. No, obviously not. Fuck you. Fuck you."

"You should start thinking about what your plan is for the night, because you clearly need some sleep." Whumper tilted their head to the side. "Unless you plan on taking this to the next level, and keeping watch in turns."

Tears of genuine sorrow and heartbreak were mixing with helpless anger as Caretaker thought more and more about the situation they'd ended up in. They finished changing the bandages, placing a damp cloth on Whumpee's forehead to help bring down their fever, then pulled out another chair to sit. They wiped the tears away, trying their best to look less like a complete mess on the brink of another meltdown.

"I've stayed up for longer just to finish videogames," they said as casually as they could manage. "I can stay up for something actually important."

Whumper grinned, clearly expecting them to pass out within the next hour. "Suit yourself."

@ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump

#whump #whump writing #failed escape #recovery #emotional whump #psychological whump #fear of death #stitches #needles

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mizumech · 20 days

Text

Day 4: Divine/Infernal

It’s mizumech! I had this written a little in advance, so here it is. Presenting “rises the moon” a demon hunter AU clocking in at 1743 words.

I reserve all rights to editing and putting it up on ao3, and happy reading! :]

TW: guns, swearing, injury

—

Martyn’s hands twitch on his rifle. The day is almost gone and he can make out the faintest shape of the moon in the sky.

Tonight will be the night he hunts a demon.

The church altar roars with noise as the pastor rouses the people and their pitchforks, and Martyn’s stomach seems to do a flip.

He clutches at the lapis talisman under his coat; because something deep down is telling him that this hunt will be one of his biggest mistakes for a reason he can’t fathom.

He’s not scared of the chase and he’s not scared to kill. He doesn’t believe in their god and he doesn’t believe in demons.

So why does his heart still protest this one like his life depends on it?

Martyn remembers his first kill. A great stag on a full moon, with antlers that pronged towards the sky.

Ren hadn’t been there to see it, but he had congratulated him on it when he came back to town, so that was that.

Speaking of which, where is he?

Well, any excuse to be away from that frenzied mob. Any excuse to be where he actually belongs.

Back at the house, Ren…isn’t there either.

The pantry’s also bare, which is strange since Martyn clearly remembers going to the market to buy pumpkins, potatoes, and steak with Ren just yesterday.

To be fair, Ren’s always a little absent during full moons, and the week after often consists of Martyn helping to patch up wounds that he knows Ren will never explain, but tonight is important to the safety of their home, and Ren wouldn’t just run, right?

Right?

But his coat and his axe are gone.

Where could he be?

Ren watches as Martyn leaves the altar with worry twisting his features.

In that moment where the moonlight slips through the rooftops and catches his features, Ren thinks he might be looking at a god.

His hair looks like someone spun gold and took the care to sew it into a doll and his eyes are like if someone could have a Heart of the Sea for eyes.

God to a mortal.

Unbeliever to a demon.

A shout from the rabble startles him out of his trance.

The moon is rising, and his simpage must cease, for the sake of both his safety and Martyn’s sanity.

Goodbye, sweet Dogwarts, he thinks.

If Ren can help it, he will never see Dogwarts again.

No one has seen him.

Neither that nice librarian who’s dedicated their life to Mending books nor that farmer who’s spent theirs in the sun hoeing and threshing grain.

Martyn can’t tell if he’s buying himself time or running out of time.

However, Martyn has suspicions.

One last spot to check before giving up, he decides, just one more.

As he reaches the forest, Martyn decides enough is enough. He’s quickly gotten sidetracked by a shady figure who he knows he can't let go and he still hasn’t found Ren.

He forcefully loads his rifle, letting his normally practiced movements be heard.

The hooded figure stops in its tracks and slowly turns around.

Martyn trains his gun on them, not willing to make another sound until they do, cacophony of hard breathing and pumping blood rushing in his ears; thoughts of Ren all gone.

Who-you, they sign in Dogwarts Sign Language, Why-here?

Martyn’s thought flow stutters to a halt.

“I—I’m not going to put down my gun. I—Maybe you’re mute or maybe you’re deaf but I don’t know what your intentions are, or whether you’re a threat to us…”

He lets out a shaky exhale, almost too shaky for his liking, the adrenaline leaving, leaving Martyn working on empty but surprisingly clear-headed.

His fingers twitch on the trigger.

��Show me you don’t mean any harm.”

The hooded figure fumbles, patting themself down for any talismans or tokens, presumably.

Martyn has no problems with that, but then the hooded figure’s hands start retreating towards the pocket area, and that’s what raises his hackles.

It could be a knife or it could be a bribe or it could be a—

He shoots. Better safe than sorry.

The sound reverberates, bullet arching upwards, straight and true in some twisted arithmetic question; gun recoil hitting his cheekbone, just as the hooded figure reaches out a hand; either to stop him or to show him something and shouts his name.

“Martyn!”

Fuck.

He’s just alerted basically the whole village to their location with his gunshot, for it to be nothing.

Martyn slowly lowers his gun from its position, from pointing towards the sky to strapped across his shoulder.

He doesn’t even need to look at what they were trying to show him, because he’d know that voice anywhere.

“Ren.”

“Hey.”

Martyn sighs. Out of petulance, he turns to reloading and cleaning his rifle; very purposefully not meeting Ren’s gaze.

“Well, if you’ve got anything to say, at all,” he sneers as the bullet case is ejected, “Now’s the time to do it. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m sorry, my dude.”

“You’re always sorry, Ren. Every month you’re sorry, and from the moment I met you when you were bleeding in the woods you were sorry. Doesn’t that remind you of someone?”

The image of flaxen hair and void-dark eyes seems to telepathically manifest between them.

“That’s not fair, to compare me to him.”

Fair?

“What? Because he’s the one who’s bandaging his landlord’s wounds? Because he’s never left Scar?” Martyn snarls, all his previously bubbling annoyance suddenly rising to the top; rifle now aimed back at Ren, “What do you take me for?”

“Martyn—“

“All you ever do is leave,” Martyn grits out, between the roiling turmoil that threatens to make him shed tears because gods above, Ren is someone who he has always cared too damn much about, “You leave and you come back right as I think you’re gone forever and then you leave again and you leave me to pick up the pieces—“

“You don’t understand, Martyn! I’m leaving for a reason that is bigger than you and me. I can’t tell you or show you because—“

Martyn slowly lowers his rifle again.

“—because you don’t trust me?”

Ren sighs, adjusting his robes while he fidgets.

“…yeah, I guess. I—I—take a walk with me?”

“Don’t be a coward about this. No more running, no more running away, okay?”

“I’m not,” Ren says, and Martyn can hear his voice crack, “I’m not running. That’s not the difficult part.”

“Then stop walking away. Stop fucking—leaving all the time. If you’re going to leave, don’t keep coming back just to do it again. What is so much bigger than me that I can’t understand it? Am I just not enough?”

“You’re always gonna be enough, Martyn.”

It would be so easy for Martyn to leave it on that; something that will keep him going in hard times. But all his problems in his life have been because of his big fucking mouth, and it seems that he’ll never be able to let go of that habit of betting on losing dogs.

“If it’s so damn easy for you to leave, why do you even bother coming back at all?”

“Because leaving ISN’T THE EASY PART, MARTYN!” Ren shouts, maybe sobs out, “It's loving you, that’s the easiest goddamn thing in the world! That’s why it’s so difficult to come back! I come back every month and I see you worried! I see you holding your questions and I know you want answers that I can’t give you!”

In the emotional scuffle, Ren’s hood falls.

The moonlight that’s cast on his face starts to distort his features, much to Martyn’s horror and shock as his eyes go crimson and grey starts to seep into his normally brown hair; the colour of wolf fur. His skin starts to mottle with scales and his figure starts to tower, with horns spiralling and leathery wings ripping out of his back like a leviathan might cut through the sea and into the open air.

Martyn clutches his rifle, frame seemingly cutting into his hands like an ill-made axe, as he whispers with uselessly trembling hands, as he shrinks away from him, “Ren, your hood’s off, Ren——”

The air suddenly feels dryer, now like the air wasn’t made for someone human like Martyn himself to breathe.

“Who’s the coward now, Martyn? Who’s running?”

That word jolts him out of the trance.

Why is he running? From Ren, of all people?

“That’s…fair.”

Ren turns away from him.

“I can hear them coming. Do what you have to do. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m…sorry. For all of this. I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

There’s a rueful laugh from Ren.

“You were also sorry from the moment we met, weren’t you? You’re also sorry every month when you make me drink that—glistering melon juice.”

“That’s just…us now, I guess. Losing dogs who can’t stop regretting.”

“And who’ll be left to bet on us?”

They both share a melancholy chuckle. A good last inside joke to ease the parting pains.

Finally, the pitchforks come and the shouts of the rabble grow ever louder as they approach.

Ren turns back to him, eyes conveying some sort of look Martyn can’t ever hope to decipher in this lifetime.

There’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to leave unsaid.

And for once in his life, his big mouth (doesn’t) fail(s) him.

Ren’s height forces Martyn to look up to stare into those strangely pink pupils; pink like a peony in a snake’s skull; up like a child looking upon a god.

As Ren seems to ascend with the beats of those powerful wings, one of the elders shouts for Martyn.

“Shoot, boy, shoot!”

Instinct suddenly kicks in again.

He raises his rifle.

Shoots a missing shot, just skimming Ren’s ear and reloads.

The bullet case falls beside a lapis talisman that matches his.

It’s Ren’s.

That’s enough to send a tear streaking down Martyn’s face as he takes aim again because he could have killed him—

He closes his eyes, and lets fate take his next shot. Maybe he won’t even shoot.

“All you do is leave,” Martyn whispers bitterly against the butt of his gun; maybe a bit of a justification to himself, and maybe a bit of an angry mourning, “All you've ever done is leave.”

Martyn’s hands twitch on his rifle. The day is almost gone and he can make out the faintest shape of the moon in the sky.

Tonight will be the night he hunts a demon.

The church altar roars with noise as the pastor rouses the people and their pitchforks, and Martyn’s stomach seems to do a flip.

He clutches at the lapis talisman under his coat; because something deep down is telling him that this hunt will be one of his biggest mistakes for a reason he can’t fathom.

He’s not scared of the chase and he’s not scared to kill. He doesn’t believe in their god and he doesn’t believe in demons.

So why does his heart still protest this one like his life depends on it?

Martyn remembers his first kill. A great stag on a full moon, with antlers that pronged towards the sky.

Ren hadn’t been there to see it, but he had congratulated him on it when he came back to town, so that was that.

Speaking of which, where is he?

Well, any excuse to be away from that frenzied mob. Any excuse to be where he actually belongs.

Back at the house, Ren…isn’t there either.

The pantry’s also bare, which is strange since Martyn clearly remembers going to the market to buy pumpkins, potatoes, and steak with Ren just yesterday.

Right?

But his coat and his axe are gone.

Where could he be?

Ren watches as Martyn leaves the altar with worry twisting his features.

In that moment where the moonlight slips through the rooftops and catches his features, Ren thinks he might be looking at a god.

His hair looks like someone spun gold and took the care to sew it into a doll and his eyes are like if someone could have a Heart of the Sea for eyes.

God to a mortal.

Unbeliever to a demon.

A shout from the rabble startles him out of his trance.

The moon is rising, and his simpage must cease, for the sake of both his safety and Martyn’s sanity.

Goodbye, sweet Dogwarts, he thinks.

If Ren can help it, he will never see Dogwarts again.

No one has seen him.

Neither that nice librarian who’s dedicated their life to Mending books nor that farmer who’s spent theirs in the sun hoeing and threshing grain.

Martyn can’t tell if he’s buying himself time or running out of time.

However, Martyn has suspicions.

One last spot to check before giving up, he decides, just one more.

As he reaches the forest, Martyn decides enough is enough. He’s quickly gotten sidetracked by a shady figure who he knows he can't let go and he still hasn’t found Ren.

He forcefully loads his rifle, letting his normally practiced movements be heard.

The hooded figure stops in its tracks and slowly turns around.

Martyn trains his gun on them, not willing to make another sound until they do, cacophony of hard breathing and pumping blood rushing in his ears; thoughts of Ren all gone.

Who-you, they sign in Dogwarts Sign Language, Why-here?

Martyn’s thought flow stutters to a halt.

“I—I’m not going to put down my gun. I—Maybe you’re mute or maybe you’re deaf but I don’t know what your intentions are, or whether you’re a threat to us…”

He lets out a shaky exhale, almost too shaky for his liking, the adrenaline leaving, leaving Martyn working on empty but surprisingly clear-headed.

His fingers twitch on the trigger.

“Show me you don’t mean any harm.”

The hooded figure fumbles, patting themself down for any talismans or tokens, presumably.

Martyn has no problems with that, but then the hooded figure’s hands start retreating towards the pocket area, and that’s what raises his hackles.

It could be a knife or it could be a bribe or it could be a—

He shoots. Better safe than sorry.

“Martyn!”

Fuck.

He’s just alerted basically the whole village to their location with his gunshot, for it to be nothing.

Martyn slowly lowers his gun from its position, from pointing towards the sky to strapped across his shoulder.

He doesn’t even need to look at what they were trying to show him, because he’d know that voice anywhere.

“Ren.”

“Hey.”

Martyn sighs. Out of petulance, he turns to reloading and cleaning his rifle; very purposefully not meeting Ren’s gaze.

“Well, if you’ve got anything to say, at all,” he sneers as the bullet case is ejected, “Now’s the time to do it. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m sorry, my dude.”

“You’re always sorry, Ren. Every month you’re sorry, and from the moment I met you when you were bleeding in the woods you were sorry. Doesn’t that remind you of someone?”

The image of flaxen hair and void-dark eyes seems to telepathically manifest between them.

“That’s not fair, to compare me to him.”

Fair?

“Martyn—“

“You don’t understand, Martyn! I’m leaving for a reason that is bigger than you and me. I can’t tell you or show you because—“

Martyn slowly lowers his rifle again.

“—because you don’t trust me?”

Ren sighs, adjusting his robes while he fidgets.

“…yeah, I guess. I—I—take a walk with me?”

“Don’t be a coward about this. No more running, no more running away, okay?”

“I’m not,” Ren says, and Martyn can hear his voice crack, “I’m not running. That’s not the difficult part.”

“You’re always gonna be enough, Martyn.”

“If it’s so damn easy for you to leave, why do you even bother coming back at all?”

In the emotional scuffle, Ren’s hood falls.

The air suddenly feels dryer, now like the air wasn’t made for someone human like Martyn himself to breathe.

“Who’s the coward now, Martyn? Who’s running?”

That word jolts him out of the trance.

Why is he running? From Ren, of all people?

“That’s…fair.”

Ren turns away from him.

“I can hear them coming. Do what you have to do. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m…sorry. For all of this. I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

There’s a rueful laugh from Ren.

“You were also sorry from the moment we met, weren’t you? You’re also sorry every month when you make me drink that—glistering melon juice.”

“That’s just…us now, I guess. Losing dogs who can’t stop regretting.”

“And who’ll be left to bet on us?”

They both share a melancholy chuckle. A good last inside joke to ease the parting pains.

Finally, the pitchforks come and the shouts of the rabble grow ever louder as they approach.

Ren turns back to him, eyes conveying some sort of look Martyn can’t ever hope to decipher in this lifetime.

There’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to leave unsaid.

And for once in his life, his big mouth (doesn’t) fail(s) him.

Ren’s height forces Martyn to look up to stare into those strangely pink pupils; pink like a peony in a snake’s skull; up like a child looking upon a god.

As Ren seems to ascend with the beats of those powerful wings, one of the elders shouts for Martyn.

“Shoot, boy, shoot!”

Instinct suddenly kicks in again.

He raises his rifle.

Shoots a missing shot, just skimming Ren’s ear and reloads.

The bullet case falls beside a lapis talisman that matches his.

It’s Ren’s.

That’s enough to send a tear streaking down Martyn’s face as he takes aim again because he could have killed him—

He closes his eyes, and lets fate take his next shot. Maybe he won’t even shoot.

“All you do is leave,” Martyn whispers bitterly against the butt of his gun; maybe a bit of a justification to himself, and maybe a bit of an angry mourning, “All you've ever done is leave.”

@treebarkweek

#treebarkweek #treebarkweek2024 #rendog #martyn inthelittlewood #trafficshipping #treebark #trafficblr #(am i allowed to tag trafficblr here)

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lunartearrose · 3 months

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Oc kiss week 2024 day 4: Lost

Ocs: Vel (left) Xavier (right)

Series: cursebourne (ttrpg)

Drabble below! Tw: character death

What a terrible, terrible night to remember.

Vel and Xavier had settled down together with some tea, as they always did after a long day.

Something was wrong with it, from the moment it passed Vel's lips, they knew - but they couldn't warn Xavier in time not to drink it.

The assassins Vel once called their family descended on him like wolves. They pinned Vel down, forcing them to watch.

All in the sake of teaching Vel to “stay loyal”.

Loyal to what? The blood of the slain on their lips? The curse they were raised to strengthen until it was almost impossible to control?

Look at what it earned them. They wanted a monster so badly, and a monster they got.

Vel was forced to watch Xavier die. And his killers would be torn apart by the very beast they were so desperate to keep.

When the beast that was their curse was filled with the blood that had raised them, the world slowly began to filter back in. Their hand, still a claw, was clenched tightly. Something was in their grasp. Something small and roundish, that they felt the intense urge to hold as gently as they could, but still could not free from their grasp.

At times like this, Xavier would console them after a transformation - promise them it was okay, that he was there for them. And always in the bags he liked to carry, there was a fresh set of clothes in their size. They were a person to him - much more than a weapon.

But now… he lay dead, in the middle of the room. Torn apart. His sweet voice would never be heard again.

It was not the first time Vel had seen things this gutted. But this time, the first in a long, long time, Vel couldn't stop crying. They tore the sheets from his bed nearby, hurriedly wrapping his gaping, bloodied wounds, doing their best to slow the bleeding.

“Please… please wake up.” Vel knows their wish won't be granted.

But they so dearly, dearly wanted it.

“Please. I'll be so lost without you. Please…”

Xavier wouldn't speak. He wouldn't breathe.

Once upon a time, Xavier took some time to teach them to read. Letters and Storybooks at first, in whatever language he could scrounge from tattered stores and lucky finds. The one they remembered finding funny were the two that ended in princesses being awoken by kisses. They both made crude jokes about it, laughing together back then.

And in this painful, desperate moment, Vel wished this could be true. They scooped him up in their shaking, bloody hands, one still closed in an aching fist.

In this dying world of curses, and strange magic… maybe it could be.

Despite the part of them that never wanted to taste his blood again, Vel leaned in.

Any warmth had been lost to the frigid night air.

Nothing happened.

Again.

Nothing.

Again…

Vel doesn't know how long it's been. Time was lost on them. Someone opened the door. A maid squealed in shock. There was no thud, so they didn't faint. Vel hadn't looked up.

“Do you know who ordered the contract on him?” Vel asked quietly.

“I-i! No! Gods, no…” the maid exclaimed, “oh dear gods, poor Xavier… Velvet, dear, did you…?”

The piercing glare Vel gave scared her to silence. “I would never do this to him.” Vel replied.

At this, they stood, wrapping the blanket around Xavier.

“As the soul survivor and heir of Burning Dark, the funds of the fallen belong to me.” Vel explained to her. “You and your other workers. You take care of their rooms in this place, correct?”

“Y-yes- sir- ma'am- um…”

Vel finally pried open their hand. Pristine and beautiful, Xavier's left eye rested in their palm.

“Good. Clean them out. Any riches and objects of value are yours. I don't want them. All I ask in return is a good place to lay Xavier to rest. I want him to have as close to a king's resting place as I can get - preserved as much as possible. That's all. I will handle fixing him myself. I know how…”

The maid nodded, leaving in a hurry.

Vel got to work, sewing Xavier up and dressing him in his best clothes, the way he liked to dress. By the time they were done, he truly did look like he was just sleeping.

As taught to do with valuable kills, Vel preserved Xav's eye in a glass bottle, and hung it on a velvet rope around their neck.

Surprisingly, a different maid returned, handing them a map to an abandoned castle in the woods close by, asking if it were sufficient.

Memories blur. The last vel saw of xavier, they had gently placed him in that castle, surrounded by mourning flowers.

Despite their crusade, ever traveling and wandering aloof, bouquets from the maids would find them, haunting them for a good year.

Years pass.

Vel kills more bloodmongers. The lives of assassins are forfeit.

It's all in Xavier's name.

More time passes.

Vel prays not to forget, muttering stories of the man they loved. Telling them to bored kids looking for this strange knight's stories.

A town Vel once visited goes down in flames. Forever.

A necromancer's name on a growing lists of murderous targets.

Vel is captured by bloodmongers, chained away.

More years.

The curse craves blood. They sleep to ignore it. Their body morphs, straddling the edge of their manticore form. Large wings, spiked tail, sharp claws and features.

They lost their sense of self.

They cried, losing the memory of how Xavier looked beyond his purple eyes. They only know he had purple ones because of that charm.

A bloodmonger got too close because of the tears, despite the warnings his superiors gave.

How many years had it been since they lost him? Ten?

It's been a while since they've seen the apprentice bloodmonger that yapped to them endlessly. They hated that they missed it.

Sleep. Lose time. Eat bread. Crave blood.

Sleep. Dream.

Something is scratching at their cage.

A rat again?

A soft swear. The clink of something small and metal clattering to the floor.

No, not a rat.

Swearing, rattling now. Perhaps frustration?

Another loud bang. The smell of blood, a small, small amount. Foul blood. But something about it…

Vel woke up.

Across the way in dim light, something undead was fiddling with the locks and chains on the door. Their skin was a sickly greenish-teal, one leg was bone, and their hair was scraggly and grayed at the ends from decay, but well kept. A familiar style, if not altered slightly.

Most strikingly… they were definitely missing an eye.

The feeling of Vel moving their lips felt foreign. They almost didn't know how to speak anymore.

“What…”

The zombie glanced up, as the cell door clicked open. At last.

Staring back was a dead, but bright purple eye. Exactly like what they had with them.

And a familiar voice they thought they'd never hear again.

“Long time no see, Vel.” Xavier said, smiling nervously as he covered the hole in his face with his bangs. “I missed you.”

#ockiss24 #oc kiss week #cursebourne ocs #xavier (oc)#Vel (oc)#blood #tw blood

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toyybox · 6 months

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Spiderwebs #16: Tape IX (Senseless)

Masterlist

content: lab whump, captivity, immortal whumpee, eye injury, brief dismemberment

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Heather was a mere mortal. Heather was nothing, compared to him. Jackie tried to keep this in mind the next day, when she returned with the scalpel. The threat of improvised surgery often dulled his sense of scorn.

“Stop that,” she snapped, the scalpel like a tiny spear in her gloved hand. “The table’s going to break.”

The table did shudder beneath him, but Jackie refused to move. On the contrary—he stepped farther along its length, farther away from the wicked glint of the blade. The scar on his chest had faded to a silvery line, but the memory of being torn apart was still alive and kicking.

Heather now spoke in a tone that was marginally softer than before. Which wasn’t very soft at all, but it was something. “I have the drug, remember? You won’t feel anything.”

“Oh. Right.”

“So? Get down. Or would you rather do it without the painkillers?”

He clambered off the table with as much dignity as he could muster. He hoped to hell that the drug wouldn’t wear off early, or worse—not work at all. If it came to blows, he could start sobbing again, but somehow he knew that wouldn’t work a second time.

There was that tiny red pill again. Two of them this time. And a glass of water, and that dreaded table with all the empty glass jars. All manner of steel implements were arranged before him, a bona fide orchestra of surgical instruments. Most of them he had seen before, which did not ease his apprehension at all.

“I’ll give you five minutes, then we’ll begin.” As she spoke, the recorder listened on from a safe corner of the table, away from all the jars. “Today's dosage is fourteen hundred milligrams. Administered twelve hours after previous dosage.”

“What’s the needle for?” The needle in question was at least six inches long, but otherwise indistinguishable from a normal sewing needle. Down went the water and the pills. Jackie now noticed a mild bitter taste, which lingered even after he swallowed.

“Gee, I don’t know. It’s a surprise tool that will help us later.” She ripped the glass from his hands and placed it on the nightstand. “Stop asking questions, for God’s sake.”

Well, he wasn’t about to argue. When she was sure he would not speak, Heather turned her back to him. She began cleaning some kind of saw or blade with an abrasive-smelling, clear liquid and a soft white cloth. The room was filled with a chemical smell.

While he waited, the opioid took effect. The numbness spread through his body, at first through the tips of his fingers, then through his hands and arms, cutting off the feeling in his legs and chest, then finally his face. Even the bitter aftertaste faded on his tongue. The textures and touch of the outside world ceased to exist in any meaningful way. This time, even the dread in the back of his mind and the tension in his heart began to slow—not by much, but it was a noticeable difference.

The cleaning of tools had concluded. She turned back to him. “Is the anesthetic working?”

He nodded.

Before he could react, she stabbed a scalpel into the side of his arm. Jackie opened his mouth to protest, but he hadn’t felt a thing. Not even the warmth of blood, dripping against his skin as she pulled the blade out. Those electric impulses had all but died.

“The drug has blocked all pain receptors.” She put the scalpel down. “There aren’t many side effects, although Jackie’s immortality makes it unclear whether or not the opioid is toxic.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It doesn’t matter.” A spoon. Why was she holding a spoon? He couldn’t see any food. “It’s time for the experiment. Keep your eyes open. Try not to blink.”

Eyes?

Oh. Oh no.

Despite all the impossible things his body had healed, Jackie was not thrilled at this prospect. But it wouldn’t hurt, at least. And he couldn’t say no. He’d have to suck it up and let her finish the test. How bad could it be? What was a little bit of blindness to the undying, eternal Jackie? What harm could a utensil do to someone like him?

“I don’t see how this benefits science,” he did say, however. “Pun not intended.”

She gestured with the spoon, shrugging. “Oh, you know. Something interesting might happen.”

Something interesting. Right. To each their own, he supposed.

“Sit down on the chair. Don’t move,” she added sharply. “Don’t start crying again, either. It won’t help you.”

He wasn’t planning to, anyway. He sat on the chair, next to his desk, as still as possible. Heather approached him, spoon in hand. It was funny to see such an ordinary thing held with such weight and importance. He could see his reflection on the surface, like a funhouse mirror image. The concave curve lit up as she moved closer. A stripe of shiny metal, one that would soon be embedded in his sockets, digging out the delicate jelly-like flesh. Ew. Why did Jackie have such a morbid imagination? It would be painless, but he still couldn’t help but flinch.

Her hand grasped his shoulder. “It will be okay.” Such a cold tone for such a comforting line. “Look at the stairs.”

Behind her was the flight of stairs. A straight line of steps. Underneath, there was a triangular section of wall. He noticed a sort of seam there, a ridge bumping out. There must have been a closet dug into that space, or another kind of storage area. Now, it was covered up, with nothing but a ridge to remember it by. He wondered why. Seemed pointless to Jackie. Waste of a good closet. Maybe there had been an infestation, or a—

Jackie didn’t feel the spoon touch his eye, but he saw it. On instinct, he screwed both his eyes shut. He tried to open them, but it was a struggle to stop blinking.

He heard her growl, even when he couldn’t see her. “I don’t need to cut your eyelids out, do I?”

That was decidedly not a nice mental image. “I can’t help it.”

“Fine.” Her hand lifted from his shoulder. Instead, he saw it grasp his face, from the corner of his eye. “I’ll hold them open. Don’t look away from the stairs, or so God help you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” What would normally be an uncomfortable position without the drug was now only a strange one, as she pried his right eye open.

The stairs. Right. The stairs. What about the stairs? They weren’t carpeted, as they were in his childhood home. That was probably for the better, considering all the blood he shed. What else was there to say about them? It didn’t matter, anyway—his vision went blurred, unfocused. Dots of red filled his sight. He could hear the squishing sound as his eyeball was gouged out. Wet, loud, as if someone was crushing up gelatin. A wave of nausea plugged up his chest. He fought the urge to push her away. He fought the urge to pull back. His hands staggered to the arms of the chair. He grasped them hard, as someone in a car crash grasps the wheel. There was no pain, not even a slight pressure, but it was nevertheless unpleasant.

Then, his vision disappeared completely. At least, in that one eye. Heather pulled away. There was a final squelching sound. Then, the sawing of a scalpel across nerves. A final snap… and then it was over. The spoon lowered to her side.

With what remained of his sight, he glanced at the bloody eye in her hand—he then quickly looked back at the stairs. Her instructions aside, it wasn’t a pretty view.

“You can’t see through this, can you?” The awe in Heather’s voice was evident. A stilted sense of pride flickered in him, even though immortality was less of a talent and more of an unconscious spasm.

“No.” He let himself blink—Jackie realized that he hadn’t felt the urge to blink for a while now.

“Fascinating.” Her head tilted backwards, towards the recorder. “The eyes heal slower than the heart, which I hadn’t expected. That’s all semantics, in any case. On to the next eye.”

The removal of his left eye went a little more smoothly. He knew what to expect, so it wasn’t as big of a shock when his vision went completely dark. He hadn’t grown accustomed to those noises at all, however. It was a relief when the spoon left his sockets and all went silent.

Jackie closed his eyelids. He opened them. Still nothing. The basement had been plunged into a flat shadow, devoid of depth or direction. Touch and sight—he was two senses down.

The sudden loss was dizzying. Even the comfort of touch, the pressure of plastic against his palm and the solidity of the ground, even that was forfeit. There was nothing to steady him. Nothing to lean against. Nothing familiar, nothing loyal or true. That safety had been cut from his hand, leaving only the maps of memory to guide his movements.

He could not halt the steady stream of panic passing through him, now that he only had his hearing and smell to rely on. And those senses were barren at best. The silence offered nothing, and all he could smell was blood and cleaning chemicals.

“They’ll grow back, I’m sure.” Heather’s voice cut through his thoughts. Following that was the unscrewing of a jar and the squish of eyes pressed against glass. “Can you see anything? Anything at all?”

“No. It’s lights out for me, doc.” He rubbed his face—a pointless gesture, since he, you know, couldn’t feel anything. “You’re sure they’ll grow back?”

“Probably.” An uneasy silence broke her sentence. “I mean, all your internal organs grew back. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I hope so. I’ll be bored as hell without them.”

“Well.” Another pause. “I could get you a radio. If you want one. Maybe a record player. You like music, don’t you?”

“I guess.”

She did not reply. In that awful intermission, he had nothing to occupy himself with but the sound of his breathing. The sound of her breathing, too, and the occasional rustling of fabric. His unease did not lighten or leave. How was he supposed to escape if he couldn’t see anything? The thought of being blind wasn’t nearly as upsetting as the thought of being dependent on Heather. The nausea rose in tempo, a steady roiling wave against his chest.

He was ready to start dry-heaving, but just that moment his vision returned. Blooming, bursting into view, the bright light, the almost painful intensity of it. At first, there were only a few spots, which quickly bled into great patches, until it all returned. Never was there a more beautiful sight. He blinked until the white light eased into familiar shapes. Heather’s basement. He could see it all. The bed, the lightbulb, the uncarpeted stairs. And there was Heather herself! Jackie had to admit he was glad to see her, if only because it meant he hadn’t lost his ability to see.

The relief etched on her face mirrored his own. “See? I told you it would be fine.”

“I didn’t doubt you for a second.” He managed a weak grin. “Is the experiment over now?”

“No, actually.” She raised the spoon with a matching smile. “A few more rounds couldn’t hurt.”

A… few more rounds. Once was enough, Jackie thought. But he couldn’t refuse, could he?

Her smile widened to Chesire proportions. “Oh, come on. Do you really not find any of this interesting?“

“If I’m being honest? No.” His disappointment was apparently not as subtle as he imagined. “Whatever. You’re right, it couldn’t hurt.”

“That’s the kind of enthusiasm I love to see.” She paused. “Pun not—you know—“

“I get it. Hurry up and gouge me, will you?”

She frowned a bit at his wording, but continued. Three more times. By the third time around, he had acclimatized to this strange ritual. His vision would blank out, he’d wait a few minutes, and it would return good as new. The only real problem was his increasing boredom. He wondered how it looked from Heather’s perspective. Probably didn’t look very pretty, considering his entire eyeball was reshaping itself. Although, maybe there was a strange beauty in that. An uncanny sort of vividness. An evocative thrill in all that gore.

At last, she put the spoon away, which was now covered in a mess of reds. In a jar resided a pile of his eyes. All exactly the same, dark irises and bloodshot whites, accompanied by splashes of crimson here and there. A revolting sight, dulled a little by how casually Heather was treating it.

Jackie leaned forward in his chair for a closer view. “You’re keeping those?”

She gave him a curt, chiding look, as she picked up the large saw. “That’s none of your concern. I wouldn’t expect you to understand the importance of this.”

Heather was correct in that regard. He didn’t have the faintest idea. “I don’t know. Seems like a waste of a good jar to me.”

The glint of silver entered his view before he had a chance to move away. The blade of the saw rested against the edge of his mouth. The motion was patient, almost tender.

Heather leaned forward. “Are you sure you want to talk like that before I remove your tongue?"

“Please don’t.” He tilted his head as far back as it would go. “I’ll shut up now.”

“Good.” Her reply came with an amused tilt. The saw lifted from his skin. She then examined Jackie, as a butcher examines a sow. Her stare gleamed with an excitement that made him profoundly uncomfortable. “Now, I think it’s safe to say we can try something bigger. How about... an arm?”

He sighed and held out his left arm.

The saw she had chosen for the dismemberment was even longer than the bone saw, with a great rectangular section of steel atop a curved handle. She practiced her swing a few times, just below the elbow, grazing the skin like a batter preparing to strike out.

This was something he didn’t need to witness. Something he would definitely prefer not to witness. His dreams already had enough gore for one lifetime. Jackie turned his head away and screwed his eyes shut. He held his breath. If nothing else, he hoped it would be a clean cut. Nice and quick.

“You can relax now. It’s done.”

“Oh.” That was faster than he expected.

“Hold on, I need to write this down.” Jackie did not open his eyes, but he could hear the shuffle of papers and the clicking of a pen. “Subject’s limbs grow back remarkably quickly, considering how much organic matter is removed. I would give it another ten minutes. That means the estimated total time is…” The pen scratched something down. “Fifteen minutes, maybe?”

“What’s it look like? My arm?”

She clicked her tongue. “Bad. Keep those eyes closed, I’d say.”

“Good idea.” What Heather was planning to do with his dismembered arm, Jackie could not imagine. Then again, Jackie wasn’t a cold-blooded killer who collected organs for fun. His imagination was somewhat limited.

“Alright, that looks good as new.” Jackie opened his eyes to find her examining his arm, devoid of any injury aside from a raw scar that circled his elbow. “Try moving that for me.”

He lifted his arm, flexed his fingers, rolled his wrist. The injury hadn’t stiffened his movements in the slightest.

“I expect you’ll feel sore later, but it’s nothing an Aspirin can’t fix.” And now, the needle. “One last test, okay? The opioid should wear off soon, so I’ll get this over with quickly.”

“And what is this, exactly?” He shifted further back into the chair. Now that she mentioned it, he was starting to feel the slightest hint of heat, pricking the edge of his skin. Along with that came the shudder of something colder along his spine, tensing his heart. What would he do if the drug cut out early? Whatever she was planning, it couldn’t be pleasant.

“I’ve tested your sense of sight.” She leaned over him, placed her hand securely around his jaw. “Now, I want to see how your hearing is affected.”

The needle entered his ear. It wasn’t painful yet, but he could feel the cold steel, along with a slight pressure. Then, his other ear.

The loss of his hearing wasn’t nearly as distressing as the loss of his sight, knowing that it would come back. In fact, he hadn’t even noticed it missing at first. All at once, every noise ceased to exist. The steady buzz of the light and the rhythm of his breathing, even the faint click-click-click of the recorder, all faded into a calming quiet.

Heather waved her hand in front of his face. He tilted his head. Oh, she was speaking. Saying something. He could not understand a lick of it, of course.

“I can’t hear you, idiot.” He flinched as she tightened her grip on his jaw—he could actually feel it now, feel the pressure of her nails. “Sorry. But I can’t.”

She let go and gestured to her lips.

“I’m not good at reading lips,” he protested. “Write it down. You have a journal, right?”

She shook her head, now gesturing to the instruments, saying something with increasing passion. He caught the words expensive and waste of paper—a simple yes or no would work, but it got the point across. Then, she pointed to the journal, then at him.

“Are you asking about my notebook?”

She nodded.

“Do you… want it?”

She nodded slower, pointedly.

“Right.” He made a show of searching the room. “I must have… lost it. Sorry.”

That triggered another rant. The tone of it was evident on her face, even if it didn’t reach his ears. She gestured to the room as she spoke, then to him, then to the scalpel, then back to him—he hoped that didn’t mean what he thought it meant—then at his nightstand.

And then, her lips stopped moving, with the tempo of an engine running itself down, as she seemed to realize how confused he was. Her expression softened, but not in a comforting way—in the way a cat goes still before its pounce.

She tapped her watch, then held up five fingers. Five minutes. Then, she crossed her legs and waited. For his hearing to return, most likely. Jackie was dreading that moment.

A shrill pop, above the side of his jaw, interrupted his dread. It didn’t hurt too much, but it did hurt. The ache dragged along his face. He pressed a hand to his ear. The hum of white noise filled in that ringing silence, then the steady whirring of the recorder, then the sound of his sharp inhale, and finally the twisting of fabric as Heather moved to him.

“Can you hear me?”

He nodded, before putting a hand to his other ear as it healed.

“Good. Now explain.”

“I lost it! What do you want me to explain?” He straightened his shoulders from their unconscious hunch.

“You lost it.” She held up two fingers. “Jackie, you’re locked in a single room. There are two possible explanations. Either you’re lying—“ she put down a finger—“or you’re sneaking out of the basement.” The remaining finger tapped against his chest. “Do either of those options sound good?”

”No.”

“Then explain to me what really happened.”

“Well…” He’d gotten out of one bad situation with his words. He could get out of another. “I was using the notebook. Then I fell asleep. I must have dropped it under the bed or something. It’s fine, I’ll get it later.”

“What were you using it for?”

Should he be honest? No, that was more than he wanted her to know. “Writing.”

“Writing what?”

What did people write? Could he convince her that he was drafting a novel? It would be a hard sell. What else? “Nothing. Never mind.”

“You fucking liar.”

“What? No, I—“ All the muscles and veins in Jackie’s body screamed at him to run, to get away, to hide, to fight, to do something and not just sit there like a terrified punching bag. Then again, where would he hide? In the bathroom sink? Fight with what, his stunning good looks? Running would make things worse. Better to wait it out.

After all, what good would this tiny rebellion do? The Americans had armies chock-full of weapons. Even the peasants of France had their guillotines and gun bayonets. Jackie had nothing. Appeasement was his only option. There was no point in shooting a rifle without any bullets.

She stood up and stepped over to the recorder. The spools ceased to spin. Now he was alone with Heather. When had he started thinking of the recorder as a separate entity? It was a comforting thought, that someone else was watching, someone other than his captor. It meant that she couldn’t hurt him, not while a witness was listening in. He knew that was just pretend, but it was all he had. Grasping for straws like he was drowning, holding on to the riptides around him.

And once that recorder cut off, the only barrier in his mind, his terror came flooding in. God’s holy cleansing in a world gone senseless, a wrathful sea to erase what remained. He was left to drown with the heathens and pigs. Left alone, all alone.

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#Spiderwebs toyybox #lab whump #whump #whump writing #my writing #immortal whumpee #it's not October anymore so we're switching back to the normal dividers #hey it was fun while it lasted #I'll probably use them again next Halloween

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