#thetraumazone

[myriad-ofmuses]

From X @thetraumazone

He was rubbing a bit at his eye to help further banish the sleepiness that stubbornly clung to him, pointedly avoiding looking down at his partner that was buried in his chest fluff, still dealing with flashes of memory from Before, that would still spark dysphoric feelings.

As Emil had only just been permitted back into his repaired body, the old memories far outweighed what fresh ones they had yet been able to make, but he hoped that over time that would change.

Thus he was a little taken aback from the abrupt kiss, but didn't hesitate to reciprocate, half-closed eyes going wide from his tease, feeling warmth flood his striped cheeks in tandem with the flash of burning in his chest, ears going back to glower a little at his roguish spouse.

The brat knew that the gene had been hell to deal with, and he was going to pull that right out the gate, hm?

He bided his time a bit, making as if to stretch out asleep limbs once he was released to go about getting up and making them breakfast, but waiting until the other had resettled on his pillow, and seemed to let his mind wander, before he struck.

Mid feigned swing out of bed, he instead rolled back to his partner's side to straddle a leg over him, paw framing his face toward his for their eyes to meet, a playful light dancing in his pink and purple as he growled a fanged reply to his little sexually-charged remark.

"Whose ta say I'd be the one eaten in the end, hm?"

A clawed digit toyed with an errant brunette curl, watching his partner's face change color before he chuckled and pressed a kiss to a blush-warmed cheek.

"And, good morning to you too, mi amore."

Feeling vindicated, he pulled away and finally got up fully, stretching out properly before padding from their room to their kitchenette, flipping on the light and setting about getting things ready.

Cooking was a love language that he hadn't exercised in a long time, and while he itched to stretch long-neglected culinary muscles - Emil needed simplistic meals for now, so as not to overwhelm his soul in the re-acclimation stage.

That meant seasonings in particular couldn't be anymore adventurous than salt and pepper, a notion that was a particularly tragic one to his own cultural upbringing, but it was only fair they share the same tribulation regardless.

He prepped an easy breakfast of fried eggs, diced potatoes, and sausage links, with a cup of cubed fruit and marmalade toast. Two cups of coffee were also brewed and doctored the way they both preferred, him black, his partner with added milk and sugar.

Arranging plates, silverware and mugs carefully on a serving tray, he carried it back into their room, balancing it on the end of the bed while he cautiously climbed back into it, slowly sliding it closer so they both could reach it.

He assisted Emi with his plate and silverware before fetching his own, setting his coffee on the bedside table to avoid any mishaps, glancing over to the other with a somewhat sheepish smile, and twitch of a marked ear that was self-consciously scratched behind.

"It's nice ta be able to use real ingredients over magic, now. Hope I'm not too rusty.. haven't.. really cooked for myself much.. eheh.."

[cathexicchains]

@thetraumazone

From X

Ruby eyelights glinted with amusement as he raised his head from his now-shimmering chest, tilting his head from his question, a playful smirk on his face. Clearly he hadn’t woken enough to see the rosy glow of his markings, or maybe he believed this to just be a dream, either way, his reaction earned another low chuckle.

‘now that would just be cruel of me.. considerin’ how deprived you’ve been. no, tesoro.. this isn’t me tryin’ ta’ get you up, least not that way.~”

He spoke in a growling purr, his serpentine markings shining a bit brighter in sync with the slow pulsating light the other’s soul was giving off, making his dark scales light up in sporadic pattern, his own fiery soul glowing in response.

‘besides.. i find i’m more.. thirsty, than hungry right now.’

He ducked his head back to his chest, playfully dragging a fang directly over where his soul pulsed its pink light, snickering from the reactive sound and shudder he pulled from him, as his attentions continued to dip steadily lower down his body, ever cautious of his positioning, so that his spine wouldn’t be compromised and call a premature end to their long awaited relief.

‘mmn.. unless ya have an objection ta’ that~?”

[myriad-ofmuses]

"I need you to come with me to see him, and there are things I need to tell you along the way."

He'd been pouring over the month's expense reports for the casino and payroll for the lackeys when there was an unexpected knock at the door, head lifting just enough to direct a tired glare toward it, as if he could will whoever was on the other side to fuck off.

At least until there was a series of buzzes from the pager clipped to his side, a familiar pattern that signaled it was in fact, his Boss summoning him. Further confirmed when the person waiting at the door repeated the pattern in staccato knocks.

He pushed himself from his desk and reached for his gun holster, clipping it in place before he crossed the room to pull it open, gaze shifting upward when Rush delivered the command without preamble, or pesky greetings.

There was a weird little flutter in his soul that gave him pause, he couldn't identify it as apprehension or.. potentially something else, but he simply nodded rather than call attention to it, stepping out to follow after him.

It hadn't been too long since the news about Boss's brother turning up had reached him, but he hadn't exactly expected to be invited to visit him, let alone escorted there by Rush himself.

He wondered why, surely he'd already been to see his twin. Why now was his own presence seemingly so imperative?

Sure.. he and Emiliano had been friends.. but that didn't warrant this kind of reaction.. did it?

His head was beginning to hurt, so he shook himself out of his thoughts, directing his attention back to his impromptu company while they made their way together.

"Alright.. I'll bite. What's goin' on, Rush? 'Things to tell me'? Not like you at all ta be so vague. And real special treatment here for you ta take me. Carmine been already, too?"

Currently red and yellow eyes narrowed a bit suspiciously, but he didn't say anything more, just waited for his implied explanation.

[myriad-ofmuses]

@thetraumazone

As the now-familiar mansion on the outskirts came into view, the nerves that been steadily building, making his soul hammer hard in his ribcage, seemed to double, making his hand a bit shaky on the thruster, making the ship buck a bit in response.

Exhaling a calming breath, he managed to stop the shakes for the time being, reorienting position and swinging the fickle squad's nose toward the back of the idol's home, nudging the turbo just enough to send it into a graceful roll, one of his favorite maneuvers to perform to help pull himself out of his head, and back behind the wheel.

Easing it down to land on the designated pad, a bit of wind was kicked up beneath it, multicolored grass caught up in the current and rippling like ocean waves, cutting the whirr of the propulsion to give himself a moment to settle in the quiet.

It wasn't long until that was interrupted however, shooting a grin and friendly wave at one of the guards he'd become quite familiar with, before he removed his helmet and hopped out.

Giving the all-clear via headset with a half-hearted eyeroll, it wasn't long until the security guard had been replaced by his perplexed friend. Orion had been expecting him, yes, but up until now he had simply used the other space to go back and forth between their homes.

Both for hangouts, and to make or deliver meals - as had been his supplementary job for several months now.

This was the first time he'd shown up in his squad ship, and the first time the idol had in general, seen his old repurposed racer up close and personal.

"Hey Oreo! Hope I didn't.. ya know, scare you.."

He scratched subconsciously behind one of his horns, now unsure if the surprise should have been well.. a total surprise or not. With a nervous chuckle, he slipped his hands into his gifted jacket's pockets to appear at least somewhat composed, though the anxious sway of his tail definitely betrayed that feeble illusion.

"I know it's been on the docket for a while, and since we're both free for the evening.. uh.. are you.. up for a fly with me?"

[myriad-ofmuses]

Birthday Dinner

@thetraumazone @alilmusebundle

He paused in his finishing preparations to allow his hands to stop their shaking, exhaling a stressed breath and stalking back over to the sink to throw cold water on his sweaty face. Again.

Keeping his wet hands plastered to his face for a few beats longer, trying to calm his racing soul, frustrated at himself for letting himself get so worked up.

Fottutamente ridicolo. (Fucking ridiculous.) It was just a dinner. - It was just a culmination of all his impatient patience over the last several months, trying to pin down a time that he could catch his mother alone.

Which.. either fortunately, or unfortunately.. happened to be on her birthday. His father had been called away on some urgent Family business, along with most of their people. Pops had been apologetic and promised to make it up to her, but as ever, she'd been all cool grace about his absence, claiming she would rather have a quiet night in with her sons and grand-baby then to make a big deal of it, anyway.

He'd agonized on whether or not he should wait for another opportunity, but he'd been on pins and needles at home for too long already, and that ticking clock was ever looming over him. The longer they waited, the more risk of discovery - and they couldn't under any circumstance let Sir catch wind of their reunion.

Not until they had powerful backing to support them, anyway. They were in over their heads, they had to make some sort of play before the cards were further stacked against them.

And while it was a shrewdly selfish thought, perhaps his Pops could make it up to his Ma by taking her lead in acceptance of this twisted situation. They just.. had to get to that point, that was all.

Heh.. yep. That was all. Abbastanza facile, vero? (Pretty easy.. right..?)

With a shaky breath, he wiped his wet face with a dish towel and went back to the oven, checking on the garlic bread and the pre-sauced spaghetti simmering away on the stovetop.

It was a miracle in itself that he'd convinced his Ma to let him make dinner for them, but she'd softened up when he said that he wanted to give back even a fraction of what she did for their family on her special day - and then promptly put her grandchild in her arms. Whatever lingering resistance she had melted away, and she'd shooed him off to the kitchen while cradling an extra-snuggly Mia.

Plating up their first course, he took the opportunity to slide the sauce-laden, seasoned pork loin in the oven for secondi, setting a timer to let it slow cook while they enjoyed their first course (and talked.. of course..)

And while he was at it, he tapped the pager clipped at his belt, giving the signal that everything was prepared.

Gathering everything up on a tray, it took a few trips to transfer dinner to the dining table, his mother looking up from her squirmy granddaughter to watch him set up the table, even smile shifting to a perplexed expression at the extra place that was set.

It took all he had not to nervously tug at his collar when faced with that silent quirked brow, but he managed. He certainly wasn't going to start this off on a full-bodied lie, but wouldn't show his hand yet either.

"I invited someone that'd like ta celebrate yer day with us, hope ya don't mind, Ma.."

Puzzlement changed to an equal combination of suspicion and curiosity, and he quickly draped his apron on an empty chair to take his own seat, relieved that it had saved any staining on his sharp suit. No half-assed formal ware tonight, not if he was going to butter her up, anyway.

After an affectionate kiss to her cheekbone, he settled in his chair, and glanced expectantly toward the entryway of the dining room, hoping that Juke's nerves wouldn't get the better of him. It would be.. a much better introduction if he walked out of his own volition, rather than him having to go and fetch him.. but he was prepared to do so.

As the seconds ticked by, he sent out a silent plea to his anticipated partner.

Please.. just trust this, Vipera.. we're going ta be fine. We got this.. I promise..

[myriad-ofmuses]

@thetraumazone

He carefully held Cooper's tank close to his chest when they all piled out of the pantry and back into their own safe space, the undercurrent of tension beginning to fade from his bandaged body, letting his partner go on ahead of him so that he could close the pantry the door after them with a flick of his tail.

Frustration, worry, and hurt had brewed a quiet storm within Griffin's healing soul, and aside from the initial freakout that had occurred when he'd seen his current state, he was pointedly avoiding looking at him for the moment.

That stung a little in its own right, but.. he couldn't deny that the cold shoulder he was receiving wasn't justified.

It still felt worth it, but guilt was still very prevalent that he'd upset him to this degree. He didn't like doing that, even if in this case it had been an unavoidable casualty to his mechanisms.

They moved in silent sync to their bedroom, Bellamie still toting Cooper's tank while his partner carried the plates they'd taken from the other place, the dinner he'd hastily made them while he waited for his partner to wake from his stress-nap.

Following him inside, he re-routed long enough to set the parasite's tank on the dresser, sleepy mono-eye gazing up at him before it closed again. Likely, he wouldn't remember much of this event, at least not until he pulled it directly from Griffin's memories later.

With Cooper safely resettled, he took a moment to steel himself. It was somewhat mortifying that while he could face off with anyone without even a trickle of fear or intimidation, all it took was a look of pain, or disappointment from his partner to question everything that had until that moment, had felt warranted.

For him, who had always been one to follow his convictions.. (even to eventual ruin..) - it felt unnatural to be given such pause.

At the least the newly tested medicine was doing its work, while he was still careful about how he moved, to avoid aggravating his injuries - he didn't feel the pain of them, not a single ounce of it.

That only bolstered his resolve to convince his partner that this had all been worth it. Anything.. was worth it, when the result would benefit him.

With a fortifying sigh, he turned and walked back to join Griffin on the bed, taking the plate of food that was offered to him, watching the other picking at his with his fork, while staring blankly ahead.

Wings shifting a little discomforted at his back, he glanced down at his own plate, his scaly tail that lay between them, anxiously twitching a bit, using his own fork to tear off a chunk of chicken, popping it into his mouth even if he didn't have much of an appetite, at the moment.

Taking the time to chew and swallow, he finally broke the silence between them, still staring down at his plate while he did so. It was necessary to use his voice to communicate until Griffin would look his way again, sign language was pointless when the one you wished to share it with, seemed not to pay attention.

"Can we.. cut to you yelling at me? I.. do not like this silence.. even if it is well deserved for.. scaring you.."

[myriad-ofmuses]

@thetraumazone

Continued from X

Overblown eyelight stared grumpily toward the fireplace, crooked tail twitching irritably from the armchair he flopped himself into, icicles only just beginning to melt from his fur, scratching a bit at a tattered ear before finally turning his attention toward her with a scowl.

‘ye gods womun.. would be a much shorter list if we were goin’ by what ye weren’t avoidin’.’

He muttered to himself, continuing to scratch at the worst itch that he was at least able to reach without making the situation even more awkward, knowing full well that a bath would soothe his discomfort, likely crusty with his own dried blood and whatever gore splattered him from the prey he caught and cleaned for their meals, but ye gods.. it was difficult to wash himself without getting irritants like soap and water in his godsdamned skull.. and that was an experience he certainly didn’t want to repeat.

‘i dinnae know about you.. but i am feckin’ tired of.. all of this. you lockin’ yerself in yer chambers, me tip-toeing round’ like a feckin’ rat.. aside from no longer starvin’ tae death, feel like this existence is worse than the godsdamned underground. at least there we weren’t completely isolated.. rottin’ away in the feckin’ dark..’

He took a long sip from the metal tin he clutched in his hands, one of his scruffy ears twitching from a particularly loud crackle from the fire, shifting back to watch the rollicking flames.

‘cuz’ of this accursed tie.. we’re stuck with one another. an’ i dinnae want this tae continue fer however feckin’ long our stubborn, blighted souls cling tae our mortal coils. tired of this.. agonizin’, lonely, misery.. an’ i know you are too, scarlett..’

Slipping out of the chair to the fireplace, he ladled some of the bubbling tea from the cast iron pot hanging above it, filling another tin cup and topping off his own, before straightening up and offering the second cup of tea to her shadowed figure by the wall.

‘we’re both horrible, mangled monstrosities with sanity as whimsically fleetin’ as a wee fairy’s fart.. so might as well make the most of it when we can.’

[myriad-ofmuses]

@thetraumazone

Continuation X

Though he’d been woken from the distressed siren’s thrashing about, he was still a little hazy from the combination of his own tire and ale, and even the sting of her claws digging into him was a distant echo, only vaguely aware of his mumble of reassurances while he shifted to wrap his arms around her.

Distantly he knew that he was saying to her the same that had been said to him when he had nightmares in his nest, gory dreams of torn wings and bloodstained feathers, the shock both of pain, and the cold terror that he would never be able to fly again.

It’d been a long time since those horrible images and feelings had plagued his dreams, but it had.. always felt so real, so vivid, like a horror once lived.

Shaking his head a bit to clear it of his dark musings and lingering shroud of slumber, he instead directed his attention on his panicked partner, a skeletal hand gently cupping her cheek as scales shifted back to softer flesh, eyelights glowing a soft rosy pink of love, illuminating his reassuring grin in the dark of his quarters.

“No, my heart’s song. Nightmares are just the darker films on play in your head as you sleep. Only seers have prophetic dreams, and unless you’ve been keeping that secret from me for years.. you are not a seer.”

Brushing a free hand through her raven hair, he pressed a kiss against her clammy forehead, reaching for the basin of water near his bedside, and wetting a cloth to slowly wash the cold sweat from her brow.

“Sometimes it helps to talk about it, but that’s up to you. Either way, nightmares are nothing to fear, Caly. They aren’t real, and they can’t hurt you.”

Squeezing a bit of the water from the cloth to dampen her hair, he began to hum a sea shanty under his breath, patiently waiting for her to decide how best that he could help her to calm down enough to go back to sleep.