Ink fingers gripped the rim of the slate gray tub, the ones opposite them clutching at the matching shower wall plastic. Being submerged at all was not the troll in this bathtub’s ideal scenario, but she knew better than to go for sopor when she was like this. The water was certainly also subtly hallucinogenic- who knows what chemicals were in the Old North's supply- but its warm embrace was preferable to the mild hallucinogens of that slime. It made her worse. It made the hers and hims at the edge of her vision and hearing more tangible. Whatever calm it brought the average troll, if it did at all, it did exactly the opposite for her.
Water, warm and familiar, wasn’t that good of a replacement. Her aching joints rejoiced for it, and so did the electricity lurking dangerous just under her skin. If she wasn’t careful in this soothing little bath, she could level half a city block. Maybe more than that. Her last leveling had been when she was starved and sickly. She wasn’t un-sickly now, under her skin disguising tattoos, but she’d put pounds of muscle on underneath them. Stronger places for those sparks to latch onto.
He blew bubbles in the water. It was still slimy, at Bessba’s insistence. With some fizzy, citrusy little ball she’d thrown at her head before she left. It was orange and pink like everything else Bess had brought to their now shared apartment. The swirling foam’s pleasant smell made a good anchor. A dock in the waters of her growing wet panic attack.
She gripped the side of the tub harder, eyes darting around the room. Seeing too much and too little all at the same time. The chitinous plastic of the tub rim would have broken if not for the fact that the projections of her brain made her weak. All that strength of his wiry muscle seemed to leave his body the further back she went.
The cool drone concrete of the underground compound underneath her bare legs. The stark but sparse fluorescent lights. Her. Him. Tendrils of His hair at the edges of her vision, the heave of her breathing in her ears. Never the her she wished would haunt her. If she wanted that at all.
Her old warden's fingers curled on the side of her bed. The tub. Her black painted fingernails and wrist rivets were solid. Touchable. Tangible. The troll in the tub- the medical bed?'s eyes fixated on her knuckles. Rough with use, but soft enough for the scalpel. He knew that all too well. The rest of her could hardly fit in the room. Funny how they'd found this place, but couldn't accommodate the hulking monster that called herself a surgeon.
She smelled like citrus. No. Someone he loved smelled like citrus. The one that was alive- not the one that was buried in the crater she'd made with the bomb in the bed. With Cerayn. With…
His eye swirled above her abdomen, bright red and orange with wisps of hot yellow and near white. His blackened claws grabbed her legs. Black hair dancing around his swirling eye- no, pink, pink pink. The swirl was pink and the dark of the water was her own tattooed skin. Skin that was not sick and cast with the vile color in her veins, if it ever had been anyway.
With a gasp she pulled her head above the water. Her long black hair clung to her shoulders like a second- or in her case third- skin. The warden's hands still clung to the tub, still tangible, but almost silly looking without anything higher than her forearm to connect to. His eye disappeared with a swat of the water, but his arms remained. Multiplied. Crawled in and out of the water like spiders, then as spiders hissing at the edge of the tub. All of them had his terrible eyes, but all of them were also trying far too hard. Like a dream that isn’t quite right when you try to close your eyes and get back to it.
“Fuck off,” she grumbled, grabbing the hosed shower head above her and turning on the water. Spraying the bare wall made them disappear. Disappear enough, anyway.
“Babe, you okay in there?” called En- called Bess. Gods he couldn’t start drawing that line. Then she really would blow the Old North to nothing.
“Fine,” Zippie croaked hoarsely. Citrus. She’d always found the scent unpalatable. Those were hard fruits to come by in the swamp. Now it was the only thing that drew her out of her head- or at least helped. She glared at the warden’s hands. She flipped them off. They did so in return. Their tangibility faded as Bessba spoke more through the door.
“I made that tea that doesn’t bother your stomach if you’re up for it…” The warm of the bath had faded, sending a shiver through him. How long had he been in there for? Too long if Bess was knocking.
“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.”
He sat up with a cough. Then hacked a more significant amount until he felt new wetness on his pruned fingers. The purple glob in his hand gave him one last spike in adrenaline, making him splash the water as he scrambled out of the tub. Seeing her shadow with such clarity should have snapped her out of it immediately. The logic of her glasses on the edge of the sink didn’t make her heart slow, however.
Tall. Overstretched. Some shape of her dual braids curling behind her like snakes. Her eyes were that same color, glowing like that false smear of blood on the tub. She was entirely shadow otherwise, but Zippie didn’t need her mind to reconstruct her. She could never forget every agonized angle that the warden and that demon took from her.
One of the shadow’s hands extended, warped into claws to punish her once she got close enough. Her voice rattled- falsely high and far too scratchy to belong to the young woman in question as she attempted to speak.
“Zvejia…”
All of that electricity seemed so alive now. Just under the surface. So close to the pool of water under her.
“Zippie!” Knuckles rapped on the door three times in quick succession. “I need you to not be in there like, right now.”
It was easier said than done, but she pulled herself shakily to her feet, not taking her eyes off the shadow. Was this the first time? In how many sweeps? She almost didn’t want her to fade. She knew she deserved her ire, but more than anything she wanted to be able to manipulate this one. To have the half-real thing say she forgives her and that she did was for the better. Or have her slap her as hard as her own hands could.
It’s eyes only narrowed. Disappearing as quick as it came. She coughed again- no blood this time- and grabbed a towel. One of the fluffier robes Bess brought with her as well for good measure. He’d almost forgotten he was in his apartment when he opened the door to Bess.
“I feel bad,” she managed to say through chattering teeth. Bess pulled her close.
“I know,” she said, planting a kiss on her temple. “Amy’s gonna be here in a little bit… Are you gonna be okay?”
This is a REALLY old drabble that I never intended on posting. I edited dialogue tags a little but not much else. This takes place around a year or two before where they are now, ie they're not living together in this nor are they together in an official capacity. Also I hadn't given Zippie his backup pronouns yet so entirely she/her drabble be upon ye.
Content warning? In order to get Zippie lore you must endure 15 seconds of boob grabbing, hope you understand. Other suggestive conversation as well but nothing explicit.
Characters: Zippie, Bessba
Zipper had always had good control of her nerves. She had to, considering the usual, sparking consequences if she didn't.
Unfortunately, tonight was the night she unraveled. On purpose, even. The edges of her façade frayed with every step up to Bessba's apartment. The aggressive crinkling of the plastic under her arm certainly didn't help. Flowers. Roses. They're too much. What had she been thinking getting this many? In Bess' colors too?
Running back downstairs was a tempting option, one she seriously considered until she landed in front of Bess' door.
"Oh fuck me," she mumbled sliding her hand over her already slicked back hair. She knocked hard three times, wondering if Bess could even hear that. Maybe flowers weren't enough. Maybe she should have brought chocolate. Or pickles.
"Coming!!" She heard muffled and far away from behind the door. Zippie gripped the rose stems tighter, her breathing nearly stopped in her chest. Bess… She'd finally truly gotten over hating what hearing her voice did to her, and now just ached to hear more of it.
In a hasty motion she hid the pink and orange bouquet behind her back, just as the door swung in.
Bess was makeupless- white lashes and brows stark against her skin- and very comfortable looking. Shorts short enough to be swallowed up by the shirt she wore- which, Zippie realized with a thud of her heart- was hers.
"Zippie!" She grinned, stepping back inside, but promptly covering her face with a hand. "Oh my godd if I knew you were coming I would have actually gotten dressed."
"It's fine," Zippie said, shutting and locking the door behind her with one hand. "I like you in my clothes."
A touch of pink rose to Bessba's cheeks. She made as if she were going to defend herself, but stopped.
"Are… those for me?" she asked, eying the roses in her hand. Zippie looked away, offering them less ceremoniously than she'd intended to.
"Uh, yeah. I saw them and thought of you." Not entirely untrue, but she had made sure that this bouquet specifically was just the right colors.
Bess' flush deepened when she took them, a heart wrenching little smile on her face when she looked from them to Zippie.
"Well, um. Thanks," she said, looking somewhat expectantly at Zippie.
"Oh, right," she said after a beat. She unhooked the mask from behind her ears and tucked it in her pocket. She kicked off her boots at Bess' door as well.
"There you are!" A real grin spread across Bess' face again. She leaned and kissed Zippie on the marred cheek. Anything she had to say was lost to the warmth that rushed to her face.
Bessba laced her fingers through Zippie's, dragging her through the semi open plan apartment to the kitchen. The excitement pouring through her palm was almost overwhelming.
"So what brings you around? You've been, like, hard to get ahold of." Bess ducked under the sink counter, leaving her flowers on top.
"Oh y’know. I was in the neighborhood." Zippie shrugged, willing her throat to be less dry. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Omg no, of course not." Bess thunked a pretty pink vase up on the counter, standing up. "Like, you're always allowed to drop in!" As she spoke, she saw to moving her flowers to a nicer home to slowly die in. "These are super pretty by the way."
"I knew they reminded me of you for a reason," Zippie said, a little smile pulling at her mouth. She stepped to Bessba's side, putting an arm around her waist. She pecked her on the cool cheek, doing it again when she turned pink.
"How've you been, Bess?" she murmured, watching as Bess shakily fixed her arrangement in the vase. "I am sorry. I've been busy."
"It's- I mean, I'm fine," she stammered, leaning into Zippie's touch. "I missed you. A little."
"I missed you too," Zippie hummed, somewhat into her gills. "I've been… Thinking about things, Bessie." She hesitated before continuing.
"...Us."
Bessba stiffened under her touch, turning her head so she could look at her.
"Really?" she asked, her voice uneven. Zippie could feel her pulse quicken, and a lot of emotions radiate off of her at once.
"Mhm. I… want… I wanna make us work, Bess."
"Zippie, I-"
"But."
"...But."
"I- Bess I need you to know who I am. Was."
"...Okay."
Zippie shifted, taking both of Bessba's hands in hers. Zippie couldn't quite meet Bess' big, confused eyes. Zippie pulled her back, leading her across the room to Bess' couch before she said anything else. Bessba allowed herself to be lead and sat down.
Zippie sighed, sitting cross legged on the cushion next to her. Bess watched expectantly as Zippie plucked the grey contacts out of her eyes, placing them in their little case.
"That's better," she said, though she sounded unsure if it was. Zippie already felt more exposed than she wanted to be tonight, but less than she was going to be.
Far, far less.
"You know my name's not really Zipper." She started, taking Bessba's hand again.
"Um, I kind of thought so," Bessba nodded, watching Zippie play with her fingers. "But it… is? Like… to most of us."
"I know. I want to keep it that way, but… I want you to know."
Bessba paused and pursed her lips, looking at Zippie carefully.
"Does anyone else…"
"Amy met me before I took on Zipper," Zippie sighed. "So did Zeke. But, uh, nobody else alive." Bess nodded.
"My name is- I'm Zvejia," Zippie said slowly, her own name foreign but relieving on her tongue. "Gozjam."
"Z-Zvejia Gozjam." Bess repeated, struggling a bit on pronunciation. A strange sort of chill shot through Zippie when she said it.
"I like it," she said, scooting slightly closer. "Do… you want me to call you Zvejia when we're, like, alone..?"
"Please," Zvejia said, almost aching to hear her say it again. "I'm… uh… not from the city. I'm from the woods. The swamp."
"Ohh like me!"
"Too much like you," Zvejia sighed, running her thumb over the botched stitch marks on her cheeks.
"Huh?" Bess tilted her head, studying Zippie carefully. Then, after a moment, she clapped a hand to her mouth.
"Oh my god no way."
"Mm," Zvejia hummed. She took Bessba’s other hand, gently leading it to her rough cheek. Bess hesitated, but ran her cool fingers against the raised scarring. She traced the X shape leading from near her ears to her lips, following where those lines extended to her chin.
“All this…”
“I… got the fins on my face dealt with when I was real young. Too young. Did it myself, actually,” Zippie said, tentatively leaning into her touch. Bessba wordlessly followed the line of her jaw to her throat. Zippie stopped her before she could get too far down.
“That one actually was a botched throat slitting, sweetheart.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Bessba scooched closer putting her hand back onto Zippie’s cheek.
“So…”
“So… I…” Zvejia took a shaky breath, lacing her fingers through Bessba’s. “I need a second. Hang on.” Her breathing was starting to feel shallower as her ‘second’ quickly turned to more of a ‘minute.’
“Zip- Zvejia?” Bessba asked, alarmed. With her hand still on her face, Zippie could feel her concern grinding against her own bubbling panic attack. She pulled back, putting her face in her hands and shaking her head. Bess was still close enough to feel her… hurt? about being pushed away. It was under swirling layers of confusion, so it was hard to tell.
"Nnh, I'm sorry. Hang on. Hang on."
Bess watched Zvejia try to settle her own breathing. Touching her unprompted was out of the question, so was interrupting her breathing pace, so Bess felt frustratingly useless like this. Zippie’s wrist rivets sparked green a few times before the rise and fall of her chest evened out.
"My powers…" Zippie sighed with her head still in her hands after a moment. "When you touch me like that I feel… things."
"...Things?" Bess tilted her head, daring to scoot a little closer now. Zippie nodded and lay her hand over Bess'.
"Aside from the regular things you make me feel… Your feelings."
"No. Just… emotional… sparks. It's loudest when I'm skin to skin. With you, especially." Bess made a cute little ‘hm’ and put her other hand over Zippie's.
"What am I feeling right now?" she asked, staring at her intently. Zvejia snorted and laced their fingers together.
"...Curious. Surprised..? Something else... but that could just be me."
Bessba hummed, carefully placing her free hand back on Zvejia's cheek. Zvejia shivered, but didn’t look away from her or the big pink eyes taking in her features.
"What about now?" Bessba breathed, holding herself mere inches from her face. Even if Zippie couldn’t feel the heartache firing off her fingers and mixing with her own, it was impossible not to see it in her eyes anyway.
“Bess…” she sighed, pressing her forehead against Bessba’s. “I’m sorry. I love you.”
“I love you too, Z- Zvejia.” Bessba murmured. Her gills fluttered and she leaned in, kissing Zippie in a way she never quite had the opportunity to before. Zvejia pulled her closer with an arm around her waist, pulling her up onto her lap.
“I wasn’t done,” she breathed against her neck. Bessba rested her cheek against Zvejia’s forehead.
“You don’t have to talk about it.” Bess softly ran her hand along the scars on her cheeks.
“But I want to.” Zvejia grumbled, tapping her fingers against the tattoo on Bessba’s upper thigh. “I don’t think we… I can do this until I do. And its- I can’t. Not without... Ugh.”
“Shhh, we have time, baby,” Bess cooed, her voice almost more soothing than her touch. Zippie flushed at the pet name, her foundationless cheeks giving her away in an instant. Bessba grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Stay the rest of the day?” she offered when Zvejia didn’t respond. “We can work up to the next part?”
Zvejia hummed, lacing her fingers back through Bessba’s.
“I guess…” she said, leaning back slightly to look at her better. “What do we do until then, hm sweetheart?”
The sound of Zvejia’s gravelly voice calling her sweetheart turned Bessba pink. The spark of her emotions was… complex to say the least.
“Oh I felt that one, babygirl,” Zvejia said with a crooked smirk.
“Shut uuup,” Bess huffed, turning away. Zvejia tilted her face back towards her, nearly touching her lips with her own.
“Hmm, no. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” she said, keeping her voice in that same low purr.
“Ugh you’re so annoying,” Bessba said, getting her arms comfortable around Zippie’s shoulders before kissing her again. Zippie grinned into their kiss, putting her hands up Bessba’s shirt to get a good hold on her waist.
“Wait.”
“Hm?” Zvejia paused, drumming her fingers on her back. “What’s up?”
“If... you can feel what I feel… does me feeling… uh the way you make me feel make you feel… like that too?”
“Bess... what?”
Bessba flushed, flustered through the tips of Zippie’s fingers.
“I- y’know, like. If I’m all hot for you does it… do anything for you if you can feel that?”
Zvejia snorted, which turned into a wheezy laugh after a few seconds.
“Hey, don’t laugh at me!” Bess protested, even though Zippie’s laugh was close to becoming contagious.
“It’s a funny question, Bessie,” she grinned, pecking her on the lips. “Mmm as for the answer… Sort of. You do somethin’ else entirely to me as it is, princess. Knowin’ it’s me who gets you all hot and bothered would do a lot for me even if I couldn’t feel it.” Zvejia moved her hand up her shirt, grabbing one of Bessba’s braless boobs. Bess gasped when she rolled the bar in her nipple with her thumb.
“Oh actually yeah that does something for me now that i think about it.” Zippie said through a grin. “Go figure.”
“Oh my god you are like actually the worst.” Bess half moaned.
“Want me to stop?” Zippie offered, knowing the answer.
“Nnnh keep touching me. Kiss me again too while you’re at it.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Zvejia did as requested, running her other fingers across Bessba’s gills when she leaned back up to Bess’ face. Bess shivered. She leaned into Zvejia’s kiss, her touch. After a moment, she shifted in her lap, pulling her shirt up over her head. Zippie adjusted so Bess could better straddle her.
“Aw, aren’t you gonna get cold, princess?” She teased as Bess struggled to get the collar around her horns.
“Um, no. That’s what you’re here for.” Zippie laughed and Bess threw her shirt behind the couch.
“Yeah, Bess?” Zippie asked with a grin. Bessba nodded and pressed herself up against her. Zvejia ran her knuckles up Bess’ back.
“Mhmm. You wouldn’t let me freeze, would you Zvejia?” She asked with a little pout. Zvejia’s smile faltered a little bit, making Bessba pause.
“Bad?” she asked, concerned once again. “If Zvejia’s too weird-”
“It’s not that Bessie,” Zvejia sighed, “I like hearing it, especially from you, it’s… I don’t even know what it is. There’s something wrong with me.”
“Right. Um. I can… put my shirt back on then.”
“I mean-”
“I am nooot sitting here with my tits out if you’re not doing anything with them.” Bessba huffed, sitting up on her lap.
“What if I need a stress ball or two? I'm very fragile right now.” Bessba gave her a look. “Alright, alright, actually, I have a better idea. Hop off for a second hon.” Bess backed off back to her side of the couch. Zvejia sat up and pulled off her own shirt, looking almost more clothed with how much of her skin was covered in ink. She tossed it at Bess, then rubbed her own neck.
“There we go. Two birds. Here-” Zvejia sighed shakily and turned her back to Bessba, crossing her legs under her. In the busyness of the tattoos that swirled around her shoulders, the raised rivets that followed the lines of her shoulder blades twinkled in Bess’ apartment lights.
“I want… you to touch my back.” She said, sounding unsure of that herself. She pulled her hair over over her shoulder as Bess got dressed.
“I- Zippie?” Bess sounded somewhat alarmed. “Are- are you sure? I thought-”
“Be gentle with me, Bess,” she sighed. “But yes.”
Bessba cautiously moved forward, adjusting her new shirt as she did so. Her fingers found the raised scarring around one of those rivets- nearly invisible in the intricate snake patterning that sat there.
“My… powers didn’t used to be like this,” Zippie said, tensing up as Bessba explored further. She let off feeling her do so, but kept her fingers on her back. “But I wanted to be stronger. So we joined a cult.”
Bess paused for a moment, but let Zvejia continue.
“There was this guy. Purple. Powerful. Magic is the only way to describe what he could do. I wanted that. To be able to protect myself and-”
Zvejia took a deep breath, touching her fingers to her temples.
“It started off as normal as cult shit gets. ‘I am God and I can give you my blessing’ blah blah blah. ‘Move into our little religious compound so we can keep you safe and under our eye.’ Y’know. Normal. We were skeptical, me not nearly enough, but it was… fine for the most part.
“He saw something in us. And a few others. I’m not sure how many of us he brought to the labs, but there were enough.”
Bessba traced between her rivets, gentle enough to make Zippie shiver, but rough enough to keep her mind in Bessba’s apartment. For the most part.
“I was eager at that point. So was… she… But it could have been for my sake. It probably was.” Zvejia sniffed, and let out a shaky breath.
“The shit he and his warden did to us… I got what I fuckin wanted, but I died for it. My lusus did. And for that I… got plugged into the facility’s power grid.”
“Oh- Zippie no-”
“Mm.” Zvejia shifted slightly, resting her head on the arm of the couch. Bess ran her thumb over one of her rivets, making Zvejia shiver.
“I… got out… Eventually…”
“Not... we?”
“I hate that you’re observant when you want to be,” Zvejia grumbled. “Not we.”
Bessba waited for a moment, speaking again when Zvejia wouldn’t.
“Was it… Endara?” She asked quietly, trailing her fingers across the arm that held that same name. Zvejia clenched her fist and nodded.
“It was her idea to get out of there. They did shit to her too, different, but… I just… we weren't supposed to make it. I don’t know how I did. We overloaded the fucking place and blew a crater into Delhon but I got out without a scratch on me somehow.
“Well... No new scratches, anyway.” Zvejia sighed and leaned into Bessba’s touch feeling… almost soothed by it.
“I’m… sorry, Zee,” Bess said softly, pressing a kiss between her shoulders. Then another one, trailing up between each rivet.
“It’s not your fault.” Zvejia shivered against her lips. “But that’s… Mostly it. I- obviously there’s more, but… I mean…”
“Can I ask you something, Zvejia?” Bess asked, shifting back as Zvejia started to sit back up.
“Go ahead, darlin'.”
“How old are you?”
Zvejia smiled an almost sad sort of smile.
“Thirty… six I think. I spent a lot of time down there so I don’t really remember. Why?”
“Ohhh so you’re, like, oollld,” Bess teased, settling back in against Zvejia’s bare chest. She snorted and flicked at one of Bessba’s fins.
“Ten sweeps ain’t mean that much at your age, do they Bess?” She asked, somewhat amused. Bess stuck her tongue out, tracing the lightning on Zippie’s chest.
“Maybe I think old women are hot,” Bessba said with confidence. Zvejia laughed and squeezed her closer, giving her a kiss on her forehead.
“Shut up. I- you know it feels… better getting that much off my chest.” Zvejia paused for a moment, looking into Bessba’s big pink eyes. She was unsure if the overwhelming affection she was feeling was from the sparse contact Bess was making with her bare skin, or if it was just… Bessba. The affect she had on her and her impeccable nerves. It could be neither. Both. Something divine. Either way, she was positive of at least one thing:
“I want you to be mine,” she murmured.
“I always have been,” Bess whispered back.
“I love you Bessba. I’m- in love with you. ” Zvejia pulled Bess’ face closer, feeling her own cheeks warm at her earnestness. “I should have done this sooner.”
“I get why you couldn’t,” Bess sniffed, “I’m, like, super in love with you too.”
Zvejia kissed her, softer than Zippie tended to be, even with Bess. She felt Bessba sigh, lazily wrapping her arms around her neck.
“Anything you want, Bessba.” Zippie murmured. “I will do anything you want me to, for as long as I can.”
“...Does that mean I can have the-”
“No it does not. Now c’mere.”
Zvejia kissed her again, this time taking Bessba's face between her palms.
i think Slitbinder Her Effected Regicide would throw the entire political sphere out of balance, and absolutely destroyed Delhon the second time Halosa took over. SHE never even got to fully name the region before HER ripped her to shreds. Grotesque was still Halosa's favorite fighting bull, but he never got to go up in rank due to [redacted.] The Delhon Vionyi region is one of the most violently rebellious on Alternia and one of the very few that has been able to stay that way. Hy'ss'yr was very open to accepting their line, and is an incredibly difficult leviathan to reckon with.
Zvejia as Azveja's protege is a nightmare to the Empire, and is VERY quick to jump to execution for the greater good. She is incredibly defensive of the region, HER, and wants desperately to be the one to pop )(IC's head like a grape.
Bess, as the Grotesque's descendant and [redacted] got special protections from the regional Heiress, and was offered the safety of castle walls. She works as a hivekeeper occasionally, but is allowed to roam as much as she likes. The Gozjam line gets to live like royalty to make up for their mistreatment, you see. She wants the Undertow to notice her, and she has, but Zvejia insists they can't because that would be such a problematic imbalance of power and what if someone finds out that- [2 hour long rant that only makes Bess want her more]
