I'm Stardust, I'm the one who made this blog and might be the one to be here most often
I don't really know what I'm going to post here, but it'll probably be the things that I don't want on my main account (because I'm shy and I don't want some people seeing what I like)
This will probably be 18+ stuff, so like, be careful, if I see someone who isn't above 18 I will probably block you
Feel free to message me, I'll do my best to answer (when possible)
Hey, I'm Lexi and I'm going to start posting here too, I'll try to tag stuff, but if I don't it'll probably be pretty obvious who's posting based on the content.
Also mads posts here sometimes too, she's just too much of a pussy to tag when that is
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Maybe it's the comparatively cold air around them, but there's something about soaking in a jacuzzi in the midst of winter that just makes troubles melt away as quickly as the snowflakes hitting the surface of the perfectly hot water. With a distinct lack of constricting swimwear, some drinks to warm their bellies, snowfall illuminated by colorful stringlights, and each other's company, they've got a recipe for a night they'll never forget!
Old YCh group piece done back in December 2019 ♥
Maybe it's the comparatively cold air around them, but there's something about soaking in a jacuzzi in the midst of winter that just makes troubles melt away as quickly as the snowflakes hitting the surface of the perfectly hot water. With a distinct lack of constricting swimwear, some drinks to warm their bellies, snowfall illuminated by colorful stringlights, and each other's company, they've got a recipe for a night they'll never forget!
Old YCh group piece done back in December 2019 ♥
Maybe it's the comparatively cold air around them, but there's something about soaking in a jacuzzi in the midst of winter that just makes troubles melt away as quickly as the snowflakes hitting the surface of the perfectly hot water. With a distinct lack of constricting swimwear, some drinks to warm their bellies, snowfall illuminated by colorful stringlights, and each other's company, they've got a recipe for a night they'll never forget!
Old YCh group piece done back in December 2019 ♥
Big sister who used to bully her "Little brother" by "forcing" "him" to dress up in her clothes and letting her do "his" makeup now helping her little sister test lipstick tastes by making out with her
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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"Shhh puppy, don't fight it. Fuck, there you go, just let it happen. God you're so tight puppy, it's like you were made for me, like you're nothing more than just a toy for me to use. Oh don't cry puppy, it's ok, I'll take good care of you, just lie back and try and enjoy this, either way I know I will. What're you whimpering about now? Let you go? Oh poor puppy, you're mine now, you're not going anywhere."
your sister was always cruel. she teased you every day of your life. you grew up with it, the casual jabs, poking at your effeminate side. you were an artist, a soft, sensitive soul, and your family knew it, but at least your parents were willing to entertain it. your mother paid for an art studio and a music studio and a garden, your father would not take you on hunts, and your brothers stopped brawling with you. gradually, they all fell away, leaving you alone, youngest son and brother to none but one. by the time you were seventeen, nobody would talk to you.
except for your younger sister. she would visit you in your studio and mock your paintings. mock the music you tried to make. the beard you were trying to grow. you hated it, resented it, but you also, deep down, couldn't help but appreciate it. the last tender familial connection, wrapped in barbs, your fist covered in shared blood as you gripped it as tightly as you could bear.
until she left. accused of witchcraft.
“come back,” you begged her in a letter you did not know how to address, letting it loose on the wind instead.
“as you wish,” she responds in a piece of paper you find on your windowsill months later.
and then she didn't. for a long time. four years go by, four miserable terrible years where the only thing that grows in your garden is loneliness and resentment. eventually you forget everything you said in the letter. it turns to a blurry, fuzzy haze, simply an impression of a hope, a dream of the future you can't remember upon waking.
you're twenty-one years old when she does come back, a knock on your window. you scramble out of bed after it becomes clear it's not a stray pebble but bare knuckles on glass, a dull clear tonk tonk tonk.
“Elise?” you whisper, luminous golden eyes you'd seen in dreams sending fond thrills through your heart despite the way you cringe in expectation.
“let me in, idiot!” your sister hisses, her voice somehow clear through the glass. you startle again, reaching out and unlatching the door. she clambers in, dragging with her a long staff with a bush on the end which you belatedly realize is an honest-to-god broomstick.
Elise sweeps through your room, spinning and taking it all in, four years and changing, and she sneers at it all. “blessed be, could you get more droll? you've moved on from landscapes to still lifes, and from the harp to the lyre, but it's all just art and artifice, isn't it?”
you start and stutter and sputter, “you- wh- four years and that's how you return?! in through the window on a goddamned broom like a witch, insults pouring forth from your vile mouth!?”
your sister has the audacity to laugh at you, “maybe if you'd actually done any of the stuff you put in that letter i wouldn't have to be doing this…”
“doing what?” you demand.
and then her broom comes up and hits you in the temple and your world goes black.
*>~<*
“welcome back, Caleb,” Elise whispers, and you jolt upright, your heart the jackrabbit running wild. she sways backward easily to avoid you crashing into her, and then a strong, gentle hand pushes you back down into the bed.
“Elise, where-!” “farfaraway,” she interrupts. you fling your eyes about the space, trying to recognize it as the familiarity of home, of the keep where you grew up, any of the dozens of rooms you were acquainted with, but it's instead comparably shabby. walls packed with shelves packed with things you couldn't begin to glean the meaning or purpose of, jars and books and scrolls and gemstones and things you don't even have the words to describe, and all you can think is she's been a busy little witch.
you try to push upright again, but her hand doesn't leave your chest, keeping you pinned there with casual effort that shouldn't be possible. you weren't strong, but you were always stronger than her, and her hand portrays none of the effort it should have taken, no tension in her shoulders, nothing but a smile on her lips.
“mm-mm, Cay-leb, you're going to stay right there. i have something to read to you.”
and then, with one hand holding you and the other holding the letter, she reads to you everything you laid bare to her those years ago. every last thing you wanted so badly and never thought you'd admit, let alone had admitted, and she reminds you of it all. you cover your face in your hands and cry, sobbing and thrashing trying to get away, so you don't have to hear it, and later you'll wonder why you covered your eyes and not your ears.
and then she's done. she finally stops talking and lets you cry, and unbelievably the hand on your chest becomes a hand snaking beneath your hands to rest on your face and an unbearably gentle voice whispering “let it out, it's okay. i know it all, even what you couldn't write in that letter. i can read between the lines just like i can read you.”
and you cry harder, pressing your face into her hand, your own shifting to grab onto her, one hand grabbing her wrist and the other clutching her shirt, and she lets you cry. after a long, long time, you run out of tears.
eventually, your sister whispers “i have a present for you.”
you open your eyes anew, baptized in your own tears, and look into her radiant golden eyes. predatory slits that contract in excitement. your breath hitches, and you say “no,” but she doesn't listen. the hand on your chest draws a strange symbol and there's a flash and a constricting feeling as luminous chains appear to hold you down while your sister stands and walks away.
she approaches one of the shelves within your line of sight and reaches out with a dainty hand to pluck up a strange hunk of crystal, edged with blue but bold and red in the center, at first what appears to be a geode, but as she moves with it it reveals some sort of optical illusion, showing the inside from every angle as if the edges merely faded away into nothing despite the clear delineations of the crystalline spurs and tubes that you slowly resolve into the shape of a heart.
"it took me a long time to find everything i needed to make this, love. i knew, when you wrote me, when you sent that letter to the wind carried on a wish, what would make it all better. what would soothe the way your heart aches. no trivial magic can make you the radiant creature you crave, the thing you couldn't truly name. the thing hidden between the lines of your letter. i needed something more. something unique. your own perfect existence, the ability to be as you truly are without restriction. because what form can suit you? my beautiful, beautiful…
sister…"
and you cry, “no!” but she refuses to listen to you when you beg and cry, pulling against the chains across your arms and your chest, thrashing in place to get away, she's standing at the side of the bed now, and it's like she doesn't even hear you screaming when her hand plunges into your chest, and you can't make yourself look at the source of the unbelievable pain that scorches your mind clean, nothing before, nothing after, only the moment where you're dying right up until your sister replaces your heart, and it begins to pump, and you're still you, but something else suffuses you, a greater sense of the world, of potential, and your sister coos into your ear “it's okay, just let it happen.”
and you try to fight it, except you don't really want to, you don't even know why you fight it but you do, using the new strength you've been given to wrench free of the bonds placed on you and surge forth from the bed, staggering away from the witch who took your sister, screaming “GET AWAY FROM ME!” in an unfamiliar voice.
the witch leaps into the air with hand outstretched and grabs her broom as it swoops in a circle. nimbly, she swings herself up and around to stand on it above your head, near in the rafters of what you dimly now recognize as some wooded haven turned shelter, walls made of brush made of trees, not rafters but canopy above your head. her other hand whips around, sending an arc of blood splatter across her home. she's dropped your old wasted heart on the ground, discarded it. you don't need it anymore…
“if you're going to be a brat about it… dear big sister, i've done you a favor! you don't even realize what this is yet! if you'll just calm down and let me explain…” she says, dropping to sit on her broom, elbows on knees and chin on hands, pouting in the way that always disarmed you and still does, all the terror and aggression still there, ready to snap, and she sees it plainly on your face, keeping her distance. “if you stop fighting it, and let it change you, you'll come out of this more beautiful than you ever could have imagined!! i handcrafted that geode heart for you! four years of layered spellwork, things that will never be undone by mortal hands, mine nor yours nor any witch nor wizard nor warlock, only may the gods unweave this thread i have woven for you! all for you, my sister!”
“i'm-” you cut yourself off with a choked sound, voice high and hoarse, “stop- stop calling me- stop calling me that, i'm not- not your- i'm a-”
your sister was always cruel. she laughs at your stutter for but a moment before her face turns sour and she leans down further to shout “stop fucking fighting me!! what will it take to get you to admit it and give in already?! you are, okay!?”
you stagger back, your limbs feeling strange, an odd prickling sensation starting to overtake them. you look down and find that you're going a little clear at the edges. but you're not disappearing, you're… crystallizing. “no…” you whisper, and your heart wants to go jackrabbit pace but then in a flash your sister is standing in front of you, one hand on your face and the other over your chest, “quiet…” a drawn sigil making your eyes roll back in your head at the sheer relief that her word brings you, fleeting thoughts fleeing you. “can you let it happen?”
“no…” you whisper, but cannot deny the way your heart eases when she touches you, the way your head spins and rushes, and you suppress your every desire that tells you to say yes, and you keep fighting, but your sister closes the gap and grazes her bare fingertips against the crystal edges of your heart, the gap in your chest, and she caresses your very heart, the one she crafted just for you so that you could be her sister the way you begged her in that letter, though you never had any clue it would be like this. you had no idea what it would be like, except you had so many swirling twirling ideas of dresses and skirts and makeup and vanities and not your mother but your sister teaching you how to do it all.
and then your sister begins to pull her hand away, and you move as if to keep her hand on your heart, but you're kept where you are by some force, and as her hand goes more crystal grows with it, sealing the hole in your chest but proudly displaying that which your witch has given you.
“every witch must summon a familiar. every witch but i, for i knew i did not want some cat or bird. i had only one intention, when i became a witch. my familiar was always meant to be you, my sister. if you will, you will have all that you desire and more. i promise you this, upon my word as a witch."
“nn- nn- nnnn…” you try, but you can't say it, you don't even want to, maybe only feel like you have to, but you can't, and so eventually, with a suffusion of soul and light and warmth and love and the very weave of the world itself, you sigh, “yes.”
you fall forward in rapture, your sister's hands upon you feeling like electric to clear the cobwebs away, your mind finally for once truly clear, open to the potential you always had, and Elise coos “my familiar, i love you, you will be radiant, i love you,” and doesn't stop talking the whole time as you let go, every part of you becoming hers, the crystal she made, blue at the edge with a deep core of luminous red, inside and out, replacing every bit of the ugly flesh you'd hated since you first formed coherent thought.
“your potential is limitless,” your witch says, guiding you back down to the bed in the middle of the room as the burst of energy begins to leave you and you start to collapse. “all you need to do is think, and you will change. the only limit is you! and i know you always saw more than what you painted. you always imagined more than what you played. all rote repetition for years, pleasing those who didn't care anymore. but i care, love. show me what you can be!”
“thank you…” you whisper. you feel your crystalline form begin to shift without any more prodding, flat chest rounding, unwelcome protrusion between your legs receding and forming a smooth mound with delicate crystal anatomy like a dream finally remembered. you shrink, altogether, getting smaller until you're shorter even than your sister, and as you go you continue to round out around your hips and your ass, and your sister chirps happily, “i knew you'd be beautiful!”
more swims through your mind, almost visible to you, and when your sister looks into the crystal of your head she sees faint images, the thoughts in your head, and finds herself just as lost in them as you are, all the malice and cruelty and sadism melting away as she sees you plainly, everything you wish you could be, dragons and wolves and hares and pegasi and on and on, creatures mundane and mystic alike, things neither you nor your witch had name for, things that perhaps had never been seen before and may never be seen again except in you, and you and your sister, your witch, you both begin to cry together.
your sister, for once bigger than you, and maybe that's how you like it, cradles you even as she runs her hands over your form, one smearing blood that turns to layers of crystal that become you again, and she asks you “what is your name, love?”
“C- C- C-”
“no… what's your name, sister?”
“my name is… my name is Selene…”
“you've picked a beautiful name, Selene. Selene… i'm going to touch you now, okay?”
you didn't know you wanted it until she said it. but it occurs to you in the moment that yes, your witch should be touching you. some instinct buried in your new heart says that this is part of what familiars are meant for. so you open your crystalline mouth and plead, “touch me,” and your witch trills happily, though you can hear the tremor of tears in it, “good girl, good familiar.”
and her touch stops being simple brushes and she starts to grab you, crystal soft and pliant under her hands, giving way in the way that flesh does, dimpling as she grabs you, and she tells you that “i'm the only one who can touch you like this. to anyone else, your flesh will be as crystal, unyielding and cold. but to me, you are the sister we both deserve, soft and warm and made by me. you will be unbreakable. and you will be mine.”
you cannot imagine being anything but “yours,” and you groan as her clean hand grabs one of your tits, somehow sore and sensitive from the transformation, but again perhaps only under her hands would they feel like this, and then her other hand, still bloody, strays further down to cup your brand new anatomy, the result of shameful examination of scientific texts in the library that you should not have had access to. you knew what it would look like, and you knew what you wanted it to look like. your sister cards her fingers through soft crystal folds, and though you are not wet the blood on her fingers still is, and though it begins to wear away and become part of you again for the moment it provides what you both need, and you keen as the base of her fingers bump again and again that bundle of nerves.
your witch leans in and bites at your ear; your keening changes pitch when she approaches, for a moment close to your lips, you want to intercept her and kiss her, but her intent matters more, until she pulls away from your ear and you wrestle your head into position to kiss her. for a breathless moment you expect your cruel sister to come back, but your witch cannot be that cruel to you, and she gives you what you're so desperate for you, locking lips with you and kissing you deeply. your inexperience does not matter, as something strange begins to take over you.
a sense of your witch, deep within your heart, it's okay, let me show you… she whispers without words. and visions begin to flood you, new years of intentional experience, knowledge of bond making her want to help you prepare. memories taken from unwitting victims, of how to kiss Elise. and these things flood your head, and you thank your sister for the gift she's giving you, letting the memories guide you, and Elise hums happily, deep in her chest.
then, with so little fanfare you are at first unsure if you'd missed it, she slips a finger into you. bloody lubrication finally gone, she chants a few arcane words and you feel as you fill ever so slightly with lubrication as it pours forth from her fingertips. her fingers keep moving, and you moan, your legs coming up involuntarily as your whole body begins to tense, it's everything you'd so desperately wanted it to feel like in those darkest moments when you allowed yourself to imagine how this might feel.
you begin to cry, and your sister kisses the tears away, smiling as she begins to move her fingers, pumping them in and out in time, letting your stuttered moans slowly sync up. she grinds the heel of her palm into your clit in time, too, and it becomes like a kind of music, a thought your sister picks up on, saying “this is much better music than all that drivel you regurgitated for our parents. you will write such ballads…”
you cry, “thank you, Elise!”
“why, love?”
“for- for making me- your familiar, because- because i wanted this! thank you for letting me change!”
“good girl,” she murmurs into the side of your head, pressing soft kisses to your temple even as she fucks her hand into you, but you're not surprised when she pulls out, the connection going both ways giving you an idea of what she's about to say, “i don't even need to ask if i can fuck you, do i?”
“no, please, please Elise, please i know, i already know,” and you do, you know what she did, the ways she's changed herself for you, the ways that even your witch is mutable, and you know this even before she begins to pull her robes up to reveal the cock between her legs, perfectly proportioned for you, and her black witches' robes spill over the two of you as she gets in front of you and lifts your legs until they're nearly against your chest, and without needing to look she guides herself to be aligned with you, and because your sister is not cruel she leans forward and asks you “are you ready?”
and because you know your sister you're already nodding before she even finishes asking, and as the last syllable lands on your ear she's prodding your entrance and then she's inside you, and you're filled with warmth and love and your head spins, and you begin to feel fuzzy, and all that fills your thoughts is how perfect you are for your sister, remade for her, in your own image but hers, the thing you always wanted to be that only she couldd see, and you can't imagine what your life was like before, anymore, the misery and horror of twenty-one years as a man fading away into a blurry haze that ceases to matter, because all that you are is here in your sister's hands, as she rocks back and forth slowly at first, then faster, until her pace is frantic but irregular, sensation crashing back and forth across the link you've formed together, a bond getting stronger every second just like the sensation deep in your stomach, pulses of sensation as you're filled to the brim and just beyond, and your sister stutters, once and then again, and she tenses, and you fill with an even somehow greater warmth as she spills freely inside you, and for a brief moment you are seized with the impossible notion that you won't reach the same conclusion tonight, until she keeps rocking, distant squelching of cum being forced into impossible crystalline anatomy, and she presses into you, her hand snaking past layers of cloth until she finds you and starts rubbing, fingers firm but somehow soft and gentle on your clit, and the heat builds as does the red in your chest, taking over, the glow spilling forth and amplifying, everything you wanted from her, and the connection falls deeper still, your pleasure echoing and magnifying until your sister cries out along with you and cums again, filling you even further, and you lay like that for indeterminate time, convulsing as your minds entangle, borders blur, and you are no longer certain where you end and your witch begins.
in the end, neither of you seems to care. you simply are. witch and familiar. sisters at last.
your sister was always cruel. she teased you every day of your life. you grew up with it, the casual jabs, poking at your effeminate side. you were an artist, a soft, sensitive soul, and your family knew it, but at least your parents were willing to entertain it. your mother paid for an art studio and a music studio and a garden, your father would not take you on hunts, and your brothers stopped brawling with you. gradually, they all fell away, leaving you alone, youngest son and brother to none but one. by the time you were seventeen, nobody would talk to you.
except for your younger sister. she would visit you in your studio and mock your paintings. mock the music you tried to make. the beard you were trying to grow. you hated it, resented it, but you also, deep down, couldn't help but appreciate it. the last tender familial connection, wrapped in barbs, your fist covered in shared blood as you gripped it as tightly as you could bear.
until she left. accused of witchcraft.
“come back,” you begged her in a letter you did not know how to address, letting it loose on the wind instead.
“as you wish,” she responds in a piece of paper you find on your windowsill months later.
and then she didn't. for a long time. four years go by, four miserable terrible years where the only thing that grows in your garden is loneliness and resentment. eventually you forget everything you said in the letter. it turns to a blurry, fuzzy haze, simply an impression of a hope, a dream of the future you can't remember upon waking.
you're twenty-one years old when she does come back, a knock on your window. you scramble out of bed after it becomes clear it's not a stray pebble but bare knuckles on glass, a dull clear tonk tonk tonk.
“Elise?” you whisper, luminous golden eyes you'd seen in dreams sending fond thrills through your heart despite the way you cringe in expectation.
“let me in, idiot!” your sister hisses, her voice somehow clear through the glass. you startle again, reaching out and unlatching the door. she clambers in, dragging with her a long staff with a bush on the end which you belatedly realize is an honest-to-god broomstick.
Elise sweeps through your room, spinning and taking it all in, four years and changing, and she sneers at it all. “blessed be, could you get more droll? you've moved on from landscapes to still lifes, and from the harp to the lyre, but it's all just art and artifice, isn't it?”
you start and stutter and sputter, “you- wh- four years and that's how you return?! in through the window on a goddamned broom like a witch, insults pouring forth from your vile mouth!?”
your sister has the audacity to laugh at you, “maybe if you'd actually done any of the stuff you put in that letter i wouldn't have to be doing this…”
“doing what?” you demand.
and then her broom comes up and hits you in the temple and your world goes black.
*>~<*
“welcome back, Caleb,” Elise whispers, and you jolt upright, your heart the jackrabbit running wild. she sways backward easily to avoid you crashing into her, and then a strong, gentle hand pushes you back down into the bed.
“Elise, where-!” “farfaraway,” she interrupts. you fling your eyes about the space, trying to recognize it as the familiarity of home, of the keep where you grew up, any of the dozens of rooms you were acquainted with, but it's instead comparably shabby. walls packed with shelves packed with things you couldn't begin to glean the meaning or purpose of, jars and books and scrolls and gemstones and things you don't even have the words to describe, and all you can think is she's been a busy little witch.
you try to push upright again, but her hand doesn't leave your chest, keeping you pinned there with casual effort that shouldn't be possible. you weren't strong, but you were always stronger than her, and her hand portrays none of the effort it should have taken, no tension in her shoulders, nothing but a smile on her lips.
“mm-mm, Cay-leb, you're going to stay right there. i have something to read to you.”
and then, with one hand holding you and the other holding the letter, she reads to you everything you laid bare to her those years ago. every last thing you wanted so badly and never thought you'd admit, let alone had admitted, and she reminds you of it all. you cover your face in your hands and cry, sobbing and thrashing trying to get away, so you don't have to hear it, and later you'll wonder why you covered your eyes and not your ears.
and then she's done. she finally stops talking and lets you cry, and unbelievably the hand on your chest becomes a hand snaking beneath your hands to rest on your face and an unbearably gentle voice whispering “let it out, it's okay. i know it all, even what you couldn't write in that letter. i can read between the lines just like i can read you.”
and you cry harder, pressing your face into her hand, your own shifting to grab onto her, one hand grabbing her wrist and the other clutching her shirt, and she lets you cry. after a long, long time, you run out of tears.
eventually, your sister whispers “i have a present for you.”
you open your eyes anew, baptized in your own tears, and look into her radiant golden eyes. predatory slits that contract in excitement. your breath hitches, and you say “no,” but she doesn't listen. the hand on your chest draws a strange symbol and there's a flash and a constricting feeling as luminous chains appear to hold you down while your sister stands and walks away.
she approaches one of the shelves within your line of sight and reaches out with a dainty hand to pluck up a strange hunk of crystal, edged with blue but bold and red in the center, at first what appears to be a geode, but as she moves with it it reveals some sort of optical illusion, showing the inside from every angle as if the edges merely faded away into nothing despite the clear delineations of the crystalline spurs and tubes that you slowly resolve into the shape of a heart.
"it took me a long time to find everything i needed to make this, love. i knew, when you wrote me, when you sent that letter to the wind carried on a wish, what would make it all better. what would soothe the way your heart aches. no trivial magic can make you the radiant creature you crave, the thing you couldn't truly name. the thing hidden between the lines of your letter. i needed something more. something unique. your own perfect existence, the ability to be as you truly are without restriction. because what form can suit you? my beautiful, beautiful…
sister…"
and you cry, “no!” but she refuses to listen to you when you beg and cry, pulling against the chains across your arms and your chest, thrashing in place to get away, she's standing at the side of the bed now, and it's like she doesn't even hear you screaming when her hand plunges into your chest, and you can't make yourself look at the source of the unbelievable pain that scorches your mind clean, nothing before, nothing after, only the moment where you're dying right up until your sister replaces your heart, and it begins to pump, and you're still you, but something else suffuses you, a greater sense of the world, of potential, and your sister coos into your ear “it's okay, just let it happen.”
and you try to fight it, except you don't really want to, you don't even know why you fight it but you do, using the new strength you've been given to wrench free of the bonds placed on you and surge forth from the bed, staggering away from the witch who took your sister, screaming “GET AWAY FROM ME!” in an unfamiliar voice.
the witch leaps into the air with hand outstretched and grabs her broom as it swoops in a circle. nimbly, she swings herself up and around to stand on it above your head, near in the rafters of what you dimly now recognize as some wooded haven turned shelter, walls made of brush made of trees, not rafters but canopy above your head. her other hand whips around, sending an arc of blood splatter across her home. she's dropped your old wasted heart on the ground, discarded it. you don't need it anymore…
“if you're going to be a brat about it… dear big sister, i've done you a favor! you don't even realize what this is yet! if you'll just calm down and let me explain…” she says, dropping to sit on her broom, elbows on knees and chin on hands, pouting in the way that always disarmed you and still does, all the terror and aggression still there, ready to snap, and she sees it plainly on your face, keeping her distance. “if you stop fighting it, and let it change you, you'll come out of this more beautiful than you ever could have imagined!! i handcrafted that geode heart for you! four years of layered spellwork, things that will never be undone by mortal hands, mine nor yours nor any witch nor wizard nor warlock, only may the gods unweave this thread i have woven for you! all for you, my sister!”
“i'm-” you cut yourself off with a choked sound, voice high and hoarse, “stop- stop calling me- stop calling me that, i'm not- not your- i'm a-”
your sister was always cruel. she laughs at your stutter for but a moment before her face turns sour and she leans down further to shout “stop fucking fighting me!! what will it take to get you to admit it and give in already?! you are, okay!?”
you stagger back, your limbs feeling strange, an odd prickling sensation starting to overtake them. you look down and find that you're going a little clear at the edges. but you're not disappearing, you're… crystallizing. “no…” you whisper, and your heart wants to go jackrabbit pace but then in a flash your sister is standing in front of you, one hand on your face and the other over your chest, “quiet…” a drawn sigil making your eyes roll back in your head at the sheer relief that her word brings you, fleeting thoughts fleeing you. “can you let it happen?”
“no…” you whisper, but cannot deny the way your heart eases when she touches you, the way your head spins and rushes, and you suppress your every desire that tells you to say yes, and you keep fighting, but your sister closes the gap and grazes her bare fingertips against the crystal edges of your heart, the gap in your chest, and she caresses your very heart, the one she crafted just for you so that you could be her sister the way you begged her in that letter, though you never had any clue it would be like this. you had no idea what it would be like, except you had so many swirling twirling ideas of dresses and skirts and makeup and vanities and not your mother but your sister teaching you how to do it all.
and then your sister begins to pull her hand away, and you move as if to keep her hand on your heart, but you're kept where you are by some force, and as her hand goes more crystal grows with it, sealing the hole in your chest but proudly displaying that which your witch has given you.
“every witch must summon a familiar. every witch but i, for i knew i did not want some cat or bird. i had only one intention, when i became a witch. my familiar was always meant to be you, my sister. if you will, you will have all that you desire and more. i promise you this, upon my word as a witch."
“nn- nn- nnnn…” you try, but you can't say it, you don't even want to, maybe only feel like you have to, but you can't, and so eventually, with a suffusion of soul and light and warmth and love and the very weave of the world itself, you sigh, “yes.”
you fall forward in rapture, your sister's hands upon you feeling like electric to clear the cobwebs away, your mind finally for once truly clear, open to the potential you always had, and Elise coos “my familiar, i love you, you will be radiant, i love you,” and doesn't stop talking the whole time as you let go, every part of you becoming hers, the crystal she made, blue at the edge with a deep core of luminous red, inside and out, replacing every bit of the ugly flesh you'd hated since you first formed coherent thought.
“your potential is limitless,” your witch says, guiding you back down to the bed in the middle of the room as the burst of energy begins to leave you and you start to collapse. “all you need to do is think, and you will change. the only limit is you! and i know you always saw more than what you painted. you always imagined more than what you played. all rote repetition for years, pleasing those who didn't care anymore. but i care, love. show me what you can be!”
“thank you…” you whisper. you feel your crystalline form begin to shift without any more prodding, flat chest rounding, unwelcome protrusion between your legs receding and forming a smooth mound with delicate crystal anatomy like a dream finally remembered. you shrink, altogether, getting smaller until you're shorter even than your sister, and as you go you continue to round out around your hips and your ass, and your sister chirps happily, “i knew you'd be beautiful!”
more swims through your mind, almost visible to you, and when your sister looks into the crystal of your head she sees faint images, the thoughts in your head, and finds herself just as lost in them as you are, all the malice and cruelty and sadism melting away as she sees you plainly, everything you wish you could be, dragons and wolves and hares and pegasi and on and on, creatures mundane and mystic alike, things neither you nor your witch had name for, things that perhaps had never been seen before and may never be seen again except in you, and you and your sister, your witch, you both begin to cry together.
your sister, for once bigger than you, and maybe that's how you like it, cradles you even as she runs her hands over your form, one smearing blood that turns to layers of crystal that become you again, and she asks you “what is your name, love?”
“C- C- C-”
“no… what's your name, sister?”
“my name is… my name is Selene…”
“you've picked a beautiful name, Selene. Selene… i'm going to touch you now, okay?”
you didn't know you wanted it until she said it. but it occurs to you in the moment that yes, your witch should be touching you. some instinct buried in your new heart says that this is part of what familiars are meant for. so you open your crystalline mouth and plead, “touch me,” and your witch trills happily, though you can hear the tremor of tears in it, “good girl, good familiar.”
and her touch stops being simple brushes and she starts to grab you, crystal soft and pliant under her hands, giving way in the way that flesh does, dimpling as she grabs you, and she tells you that “i'm the only one who can touch you like this. to anyone else, your flesh will be as crystal, unyielding and cold. but to me, you are the sister we both deserve, soft and warm and made by me. you will be unbreakable. and you will be mine.”
you cannot imagine being anything but “yours,” and you groan as her clean hand grabs one of your tits, somehow sore and sensitive from the transformation, but again perhaps only under her hands would they feel like this, and then her other hand, still bloody, strays further down to cup your brand new anatomy, the result of shameful examination of scientific texts in the library that you should not have had access to. you knew what it would look like, and you knew what you wanted it to look like. your sister cards her fingers through soft crystal folds, and though you are not wet the blood on her fingers still is, and though it begins to wear away and become part of you again for the moment it provides what you both need, and you keen as the base of her fingers bump again and again that bundle of nerves.
your witch leans in and bites at your ear; your keening changes pitch when she approaches, for a moment close to your lips, you want to intercept her and kiss her, but her intent matters more, until she pulls away from your ear and you wrestle your head into position to kiss her. for a breathless moment you expect your cruel sister to come back, but your witch cannot be that cruel to you, and she gives you what you're so desperate for you, locking lips with you and kissing you deeply. your inexperience does not matter, as something strange begins to take over you.
a sense of your witch, deep within your heart, it's okay, let me show you… she whispers without words. and visions begin to flood you, new years of intentional experience, knowledge of bond making her want to help you prepare. memories taken from unwitting victims, of how to kiss Elise. and these things flood your head, and you thank your sister for the gift she's giving you, letting the memories guide you, and Elise hums happily, deep in her chest.
then, with so little fanfare you are at first unsure if you'd missed it, she slips a finger into you. bloody lubrication finally gone, she chants a few arcane words and you feel as you fill ever so slightly with lubrication as it pours forth from her fingertips. her fingers keep moving, and you moan, your legs coming up involuntarily as your whole body begins to tense, it's everything you'd so desperately wanted it to feel like in those darkest moments when you allowed yourself to imagine how this might feel.
you begin to cry, and your sister kisses the tears away, smiling as she begins to move her fingers, pumping them in and out in time, letting your stuttered moans slowly sync up. she grinds the heel of her palm into your clit in time, too, and it becomes like a kind of music, a thought your sister picks up on, saying “this is much better music than all that drivel you regurgitated for our parents. you will write such ballads…”
you cry, “thank you, Elise!”
“why, love?”
“for- for making me- your familiar, because- because i wanted this! thank you for letting me change!”
“good girl,” she murmurs into the side of your head, pressing soft kisses to your temple even as she fucks her hand into you, but you're not surprised when she pulls out, the connection going both ways giving you an idea of what she's about to say, “i don't even need to ask if i can fuck you, do i?”
“no, please, please Elise, please i know, i already know,” and you do, you know what she did, the ways she's changed herself for you, the ways that even your witch is mutable, and you know this even before she begins to pull her robes up to reveal the cock between her legs, perfectly proportioned for you, and her black witches' robes spill over the two of you as she gets in front of you and lifts your legs until they're nearly against your chest, and without needing to look she guides herself to be aligned with you, and because your sister is not cruel she leans forward and asks you “are you ready?”
and because you know your sister you're already nodding before she even finishes asking, and as the last syllable lands on your ear she's prodding your entrance and then she's inside you, and you're filled with warmth and love and your head spins, and you begin to feel fuzzy, and all that fills your thoughts is how perfect you are for your sister, remade for her, in your own image but hers, the thing you always wanted to be that only she couldd see, and you can't imagine what your life was like before, anymore, the misery and horror of twenty-one years as a man fading away into a blurry haze that ceases to matter, because all that you are is here in your sister's hands, as she rocks back and forth slowly at first, then faster, until her pace is frantic but irregular, sensation crashing back and forth across the link you've formed together, a bond getting stronger every second just like the sensation deep in your stomach, pulses of sensation as you're filled to the brim and just beyond, and your sister stutters, once and then again, and she tenses, and you fill with an even somehow greater warmth as she spills freely inside you, and for a brief moment you are seized with the impossible notion that you won't reach the same conclusion tonight, until she keeps rocking, distant squelching of cum being forced into impossible crystalline anatomy, and she presses into you, her hand snaking past layers of cloth until she finds you and starts rubbing, fingers firm but somehow soft and gentle on your clit, and the heat builds as does the red in your chest, taking over, the glow spilling forth and amplifying, everything you wanted from her, and the connection falls deeper still, your pleasure echoing and magnifying until your sister cries out along with you and cums again, filling you even further, and you lay like that for indeterminate time, convulsing as your minds entangle, borders blur, and you are no longer certain where you end and your witch begins.
in the end, neither of you seems to care. you simply are. witch and familiar. sisters at last.
your sister was always cruel. she teased you every day of your life. you grew up with it, the casual jabs, poking at your effeminate side. you were an artist, a soft, sensitive soul, and your family knew it, but at least your parents were willing to entertain it. your mother paid for an art studio and a music studio and a garden, your father would not take you on hunts, and your brothers stopped brawling with you. gradually, they all fell away, leaving you alone, youngest son and brother to none but one. by the time you were seventeen, nobody would talk to you.
except for your younger sister. she would visit you in your studio and mock your paintings. mock the music you tried to make. the beard you were trying to grow. you hated it, resented it, but you also, deep down, couldn't help but appreciate it. the last tender familial connection, wrapped in barbs, your fist covered in shared blood as you gripped it as tightly as you could bear.
until she left. accused of witchcraft.
“come back,” you begged her in a letter you did not know how to address, letting it loose on the wind instead.
“as you wish,” she responds in a piece of paper you find on your windowsill months later.
and then she didn't. for a long time. four years go by, four miserable terrible years where the only thing that grows in your garden is loneliness and resentment. eventually you forget everything you said in the letter. it turns to a blurry, fuzzy haze, simply an impression of a hope, a dream of the future you can't remember upon waking.
you're twenty-one years old when she does come back, a knock on your window. you scramble out of bed after it becomes clear it's not a stray pebble but bare knuckles on glass, a dull clear tonk tonk tonk.
“Elise?” you whisper, luminous golden eyes you'd seen in dreams sending fond thrills through your heart despite the way you cringe in expectation.
“let me in, idiot!” your sister hisses, her voice somehow clear through the glass. you startle again, reaching out and unlatching the door. she clambers in, dragging with her a long staff with a bush on the end which you belatedly realize is an honest-to-god broomstick.
Elise sweeps through your room, spinning and taking it all in, four years and changing, and she sneers at it all. “blessed be, could you get more droll? you've moved on from landscapes to still lifes, and from the harp to the lyre, but it's all just art and artifice, isn't it?”
you start and stutter and sputter, “you- wh- four years and that's how you return?! in through the window on a goddamned broom like a witch, insults pouring forth from your vile mouth!?”
your sister has the audacity to laugh at you, “maybe if you'd actually done any of the stuff you put in that letter i wouldn't have to be doing this…”
“doing what?” you demand.
and then her broom comes up and hits you in the temple and your world goes black.
*>~<*
“welcome back, Caleb,” Elise whispers, and you jolt upright, your heart the jackrabbit running wild. she sways backward easily to avoid you crashing into her, and then a strong, gentle hand pushes you back down into the bed.
“Elise, where-!” “farfaraway,” she interrupts. you fling your eyes about the space, trying to recognize it as the familiarity of home, of the keep where you grew up, any of the dozens of rooms you were acquainted with, but it's instead comparably shabby. walls packed with shelves packed with things you couldn't begin to glean the meaning or purpose of, jars and books and scrolls and gemstones and things you don't even have the words to describe, and all you can think is she's been a busy little witch.
you try to push upright again, but her hand doesn't leave your chest, keeping you pinned there with casual effort that shouldn't be possible. you weren't strong, but you were always stronger than her, and her hand portrays none of the effort it should have taken, no tension in her shoulders, nothing but a smile on her lips.
“mm-mm, Cay-leb, you're going to stay right there. i have something to read to you.”
and then, with one hand holding you and the other holding the letter, she reads to you everything you laid bare to her those years ago. every last thing you wanted so badly and never thought you'd admit, let alone had admitted, and she reminds you of it all. you cover your face in your hands and cry, sobbing and thrashing trying to get away, so you don't have to hear it, and later you'll wonder why you covered your eyes and not your ears.
and then she's done. she finally stops talking and lets you cry, and unbelievably the hand on your chest becomes a hand snaking beneath your hands to rest on your face and an unbearably gentle voice whispering “let it out, it's okay. i know it all, even what you couldn't write in that letter. i can read between the lines just like i can read you.”
and you cry harder, pressing your face into her hand, your own shifting to grab onto her, one hand grabbing her wrist and the other clutching her shirt, and she lets you cry. after a long, long time, you run out of tears.
eventually, your sister whispers “i have a present for you.”
you open your eyes anew, baptized in your own tears, and look into her radiant golden eyes. predatory slits that contract in excitement. your breath hitches, and you say “no,” but she doesn't listen. the hand on your chest draws a strange symbol and there's a flash and a constricting feeling as luminous chains appear to hold you down while your sister stands and walks away.
she approaches one of the shelves within your line of sight and reaches out with a dainty hand to pluck up a strange hunk of crystal, edged with blue but bold and red in the center, at first what appears to be a geode, but as she moves with it it reveals some sort of optical illusion, showing the inside from every angle as if the edges merely faded away into nothing despite the clear delineations of the crystalline spurs and tubes that you slowly resolve into the shape of a heart.
"it took me a long time to find everything i needed to make this, love. i knew, when you wrote me, when you sent that letter to the wind carried on a wish, what would make it all better. what would soothe the way your heart aches. no trivial magic can make you the radiant creature you crave, the thing you couldn't truly name. the thing hidden between the lines of your letter. i needed something more. something unique. your own perfect existence, the ability to be as you truly are without restriction. because what form can suit you? my beautiful, beautiful…
sister…"
and you cry, “no!” but she refuses to listen to you when you beg and cry, pulling against the chains across your arms and your chest, thrashing in place to get away, she's standing at the side of the bed now, and it's like she doesn't even hear you screaming when her hand plunges into your chest, and you can't make yourself look at the source of the unbelievable pain that scorches your mind clean, nothing before, nothing after, only the moment where you're dying right up until your sister replaces your heart, and it begins to pump, and you're still you, but something else suffuses you, a greater sense of the world, of potential, and your sister coos into your ear “it's okay, just let it happen.”
and you try to fight it, except you don't really want to, you don't even know why you fight it but you do, using the new strength you've been given to wrench free of the bonds placed on you and surge forth from the bed, staggering away from the witch who took your sister, screaming “GET AWAY FROM ME!” in an unfamiliar voice.
the witch leaps into the air with hand outstretched and grabs her broom as it swoops in a circle. nimbly, she swings herself up and around to stand on it above your head, near in the rafters of what you dimly now recognize as some wooded haven turned shelter, walls made of brush made of trees, not rafters but canopy above your head. her other hand whips around, sending an arc of blood splatter across her home. she's dropped your old wasted heart on the ground, discarded it. you don't need it anymore…
“if you're going to be a brat about it… dear big sister, i've done you a favor! you don't even realize what this is yet! if you'll just calm down and let me explain…” she says, dropping to sit on her broom, elbows on knees and chin on hands, pouting in the way that always disarmed you and still does, all the terror and aggression still there, ready to snap, and she sees it plainly on your face, keeping her distance. “if you stop fighting it, and let it change you, you'll come out of this more beautiful than you ever could have imagined!! i handcrafted that geode heart for you! four years of layered spellwork, things that will never be undone by mortal hands, mine nor yours nor any witch nor wizard nor warlock, only may the gods unweave this thread i have woven for you! all for you, my sister!”
“i'm-” you cut yourself off with a choked sound, voice high and hoarse, “stop- stop calling me- stop calling me that, i'm not- not your- i'm a-”
your sister was always cruel. she laughs at your stutter for but a moment before her face turns sour and she leans down further to shout “stop fucking fighting me!! what will it take to get you to admit it and give in already?! you are, okay!?”
you stagger back, your limbs feeling strange, an odd prickling sensation starting to overtake them. you look down and find that you're going a little clear at the edges. but you're not disappearing, you're… crystallizing. “no…” you whisper, and your heart wants to go jackrabbit pace but then in a flash your sister is standing in front of you, one hand on your face and the other over your chest, “quiet…” a drawn sigil making your eyes roll back in your head at the sheer relief that her word brings you, fleeting thoughts fleeing you. “can you let it happen?”
“no…” you whisper, but cannot deny the way your heart eases when she touches you, the way your head spins and rushes, and you suppress your every desire that tells you to say yes, and you keep fighting, but your sister closes the gap and grazes her bare fingertips against the crystal edges of your heart, the gap in your chest, and she caresses your very heart, the one she crafted just for you so that you could be her sister the way you begged her in that letter, though you never had any clue it would be like this. you had no idea what it would be like, except you had so many swirling twirling ideas of dresses and skirts and makeup and vanities and not your mother but your sister teaching you how to do it all.
and then your sister begins to pull her hand away, and you move as if to keep her hand on your heart, but you're kept where you are by some force, and as her hand goes more crystal grows with it, sealing the hole in your chest but proudly displaying that which your witch has given you.
“every witch must summon a familiar. every witch but i, for i knew i did not want some cat or bird. i had only one intention, when i became a witch. my familiar was always meant to be you, my sister. if you will, you will have all that you desire and more. i promise you this, upon my word as a witch."
“nn- nn- nnnn…” you try, but you can't say it, you don't even want to, maybe only feel like you have to, but you can't, and so eventually, with a suffusion of soul and light and warmth and love and the very weave of the world itself, you sigh, “yes.”
you fall forward in rapture, your sister's hands upon you feeling like electric to clear the cobwebs away, your mind finally for once truly clear, open to the potential you always had, and Elise coos “my familiar, i love you, you will be radiant, i love you,” and doesn't stop talking the whole time as you let go, every part of you becoming hers, the crystal she made, blue at the edge with a deep core of luminous red, inside and out, replacing every bit of the ugly flesh you'd hated since you first formed coherent thought.
“your potential is limitless,” your witch says, guiding you back down to the bed in the middle of the room as the burst of energy begins to leave you and you start to collapse. “all you need to do is think, and you will change. the only limit is you! and i know you always saw more than what you painted. you always imagined more than what you played. all rote repetition for years, pleasing those who didn't care anymore. but i care, love. show me what you can be!”
“thank you…” you whisper. you feel your crystalline form begin to shift without any more prodding, flat chest rounding, unwelcome protrusion between your legs receding and forming a smooth mound with delicate crystal anatomy like a dream finally remembered. you shrink, altogether, getting smaller until you're shorter even than your sister, and as you go you continue to round out around your hips and your ass, and your sister chirps happily, “i knew you'd be beautiful!”
more swims through your mind, almost visible to you, and when your sister looks into the crystal of your head she sees faint images, the thoughts in your head, and finds herself just as lost in them as you are, all the malice and cruelty and sadism melting away as she sees you plainly, everything you wish you could be, dragons and wolves and hares and pegasi and on and on, creatures mundane and mystic alike, things neither you nor your witch had name for, things that perhaps had never been seen before and may never be seen again except in you, and you and your sister, your witch, you both begin to cry together.
your sister, for once bigger than you, and maybe that's how you like it, cradles you even as she runs her hands over your form, one smearing blood that turns to layers of crystal that become you again, and she asks you “what is your name, love?”
“C- C- C-”
“no… what's your name, sister?”
“my name is… my name is Selene…”
“you've picked a beautiful name, Selene. Selene… i'm going to touch you now, okay?”
you didn't know you wanted it until she said it. but it occurs to you in the moment that yes, your witch should be touching you. some instinct buried in your new heart says that this is part of what familiars are meant for. so you open your crystalline mouth and plead, “touch me,” and your witch trills happily, though you can hear the tremor of tears in it, “good girl, good familiar.”
and her touch stops being simple brushes and she starts to grab you, crystal soft and pliant under her hands, giving way in the way that flesh does, dimpling as she grabs you, and she tells you that “i'm the only one who can touch you like this. to anyone else, your flesh will be as crystal, unyielding and cold. but to me, you are the sister we both deserve, soft and warm and made by me. you will be unbreakable. and you will be mine.”
you cannot imagine being anything but “yours,” and you groan as her clean hand grabs one of your tits, somehow sore and sensitive from the transformation, but again perhaps only under her hands would they feel like this, and then her other hand, still bloody, strays further down to cup your brand new anatomy, the result of shameful examination of scientific texts in the library that you should not have had access to. you knew what it would look like, and you knew what you wanted it to look like. your sister cards her fingers through soft crystal folds, and though you are not wet the blood on her fingers still is, and though it begins to wear away and become part of you again for the moment it provides what you both need, and you keen as the base of her fingers bump again and again that bundle of nerves.
your witch leans in and bites at your ear; your keening changes pitch when she approaches, for a moment close to your lips, you want to intercept her and kiss her, but her intent matters more, until she pulls away from your ear and you wrestle your head into position to kiss her. for a breathless moment you expect your cruel sister to come back, but your witch cannot be that cruel to you, and she gives you what you're so desperate for you, locking lips with you and kissing you deeply. your inexperience does not matter, as something strange begins to take over you.
a sense of your witch, deep within your heart, it's okay, let me show you… she whispers without words. and visions begin to flood you, new years of intentional experience, knowledge of bond making her want to help you prepare. memories taken from unwitting victims, of how to kiss Elise. and these things flood your head, and you thank your sister for the gift she's giving you, letting the memories guide you, and Elise hums happily, deep in her chest.
then, with so little fanfare you are at first unsure if you'd missed it, she slips a finger into you. bloody lubrication finally gone, she chants a few arcane words and you feel as you fill ever so slightly with lubrication as it pours forth from her fingertips. her fingers keep moving, and you moan, your legs coming up involuntarily as your whole body begins to tense, it's everything you'd so desperately wanted it to feel like in those darkest moments when you allowed yourself to imagine how this might feel.
you begin to cry, and your sister kisses the tears away, smiling as she begins to move her fingers, pumping them in and out in time, letting your stuttered moans slowly sync up. she grinds the heel of her palm into your clit in time, too, and it becomes like a kind of music, a thought your sister picks up on, saying “this is much better music than all that drivel you regurgitated for our parents. you will write such ballads…”
you cry, “thank you, Elise!”
“why, love?”
“for- for making me- your familiar, because- because i wanted this! thank you for letting me change!”
“good girl,” she murmurs into the side of your head, pressing soft kisses to your temple even as she fucks her hand into you, but you're not surprised when she pulls out, the connection going both ways giving you an idea of what she's about to say, “i don't even need to ask if i can fuck you, do i?”
“no, please, please Elise, please i know, i already know,” and you do, you know what she did, the ways she's changed herself for you, the ways that even your witch is mutable, and you know this even before she begins to pull her robes up to reveal the cock between her legs, perfectly proportioned for you, and her black witches' robes spill over the two of you as she gets in front of you and lifts your legs until they're nearly against your chest, and without needing to look she guides herself to be aligned with you, and because your sister is not cruel she leans forward and asks you “are you ready?”
and because you know your sister you're already nodding before she even finishes asking, and as the last syllable lands on your ear she's prodding your entrance and then she's inside you, and you're filled with warmth and love and your head spins, and you begin to feel fuzzy, and all that fills your thoughts is how perfect you are for your sister, remade for her, in your own image but hers, the thing you always wanted to be that only she couldd see, and you can't imagine what your life was like before, anymore, the misery and horror of twenty-one years as a man fading away into a blurry haze that ceases to matter, because all that you are is here in your sister's hands, as she rocks back and forth slowly at first, then faster, until her pace is frantic but irregular, sensation crashing back and forth across the link you've formed together, a bond getting stronger every second just like the sensation deep in your stomach, pulses of sensation as you're filled to the brim and just beyond, and your sister stutters, once and then again, and she tenses, and you fill with an even somehow greater warmth as she spills freely inside you, and for a brief moment you are seized with the impossible notion that you won't reach the same conclusion tonight, until she keeps rocking, distant squelching of cum being forced into impossible crystalline anatomy, and she presses into you, her hand snaking past layers of cloth until she finds you and starts rubbing, fingers firm but somehow soft and gentle on your clit, and the heat builds as does the red in your chest, taking over, the glow spilling forth and amplifying, everything you wanted from her, and the connection falls deeper still, your pleasure echoing and magnifying until your sister cries out along with you and cums again, filling you even further, and you lay like that for indeterminate time, convulsing as your minds entangle, borders blur, and you are no longer certain where you end and your witch begins.
in the end, neither of you seems to care. you simply are. witch and familiar. sisters at last.
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You look down at the crumpled piece of paper in your hands one more time, the address scrawled across it barely legible. The scrap of information hastily given to you as you were decommissioned, done out of a guide-lined necessity over any ounce of compassion. You didn’t think anything of it during your departure but here you are, desperate. The door in front of you has however, stopped you in your tracks. A small barrier causing you to rethink this entire decision. On the one hand they might be able to help things like you, maybe they’ll know what you are now, what you need to do. On the other, what if they can’t, what if it doesn't get better than this...You try to push the thought from your mind as you will yourself forward, through the doorway, and into the unknown.
On the other side you slam into a wall of incomprehensible noise, the sound of dozens of conversations all happening at once around the room. The unfiltered cacophony painful in your ears. You desperately wish it was still being filtered by dozens of layers of sensors and electronic defence systems. Looking around the room does nothing to ease your feelings, groups of people sit scattered at several old looking tables, some playing what seems to be a type of card game, others just chatting and laughing between each other. The entire environment is completely foreign to you. You’ve never been in a room with this many people in it, unless you count the engineers in your hanger, but you were hardly ever separated from the isolation of your cockpit long enough to notice.
“Hey, are you new?” A cheery voice cuts through your thoughts and your eyes focus on the small framed girl in front of you.
“Uh…” Panic catches in your throat at suddenly being perceived and your mind empties of all rational responses.
“Wanna come with me? I’ll introduce you to some of us!” Her voice full of confidence as she turns and starts heading towards a small table to the side of the room, her face beaming back at you as she goes.
Looking around awkwardly you manage to push yourself into moving after her. Anxiety sitting like a stone in your stomach as you approach a table of compete strangers. The idle chatter of the table starts to die down as you catch up to the smaller girl.
“Hey guys, made a new friend! Be nice.” She stares with mock intensity at the group before giggling and sliding into one of the free seats around the table, the metal screeching against the floor as she gestures for you to do the same.
“H-hi” You manage to squeak out while you pull out the free chair and cautiously take a seat.
They all smile and offer gentle welcomes, you try your best to respond pleasantly but you haven't had this much social interaction since you were a child, before you were recruited.
“How’d you hear about this place?” You hear one of them ask.
“Oh um...they said there would be people like me here that could... help...”
They all nod and smile once again and the conversation continues on without you, occasionally flowing towards you as you offer a nod or a one word answer. All you can think about is how exposed you feel, surrounded by so many people with no armour or weapons. A constant stream of system data replaced by the overwhelming onslaught of social cues and irrelevant conversations.
“Oh hey!” one of them directs towards you, “What kinda rig did you have?”
You tilt your head in confusion, her question asked so excitedly you feel stupid for having not idea what it could mean. It must be clearly written across your face because she starts to clarify.
“Ya know like, us four here all ran pretty standard type seven movers but I know a few of the others got to fuck around with those fancy ship shunters they have at the space ports...” She finishes and they all turn to you expectantly.
“Oh right uh…well all combat mechs are custom built to the pilot, I think I heard the techs call her a Crimson class once though.” Your voice comes out weak, part of your brain desperately searching for details you know you don't have. You didn't need to know such things so they never told you, and for all you cared she was made of you, and you of her, nothing else mattered.
You look up, shaking the memories away only to be met with wide eyed stares from everyone at the table. “Y-you were a combat pilot?” one of them states more than asks. You nod cautiously, sensing the sudden mood shift around the table.
“Like with the neural ports and everything?” another one asks, curiosity mixed with another emotion you are unable to read plastered across each of their faces.
Instinctively you reach to the back of your neck, the circular holes in your flight suit leaving the cold metal open to your touch. The suit does its best to hide them from a casual glance at least.
“I thought it was too dangerous to let you guys out in public?” One of the girls mutters. “My friend told me combat pilots were all comatose.” Says another, more to herself then to you.
The one that had invited you to the table grabs them both aggressively by the arm and says something under her breath but you don’t hear it. You can feel yourself shutting down rapidly, social functions failing as you spiral. The looks on their faces burning into your memory. It was stupid to think they’d be any different, that they’d be able to help, to know what to do now. Instead they look at you the same way everyone does.
You excuse yourself from the table, voice catching in your throat as you stumble on the legs of your chair. None of the girls make any attempt to stop you past a few vague half-hearted protests. Quickly you make your way towards the exit, trying desperately not to crash into anyone in your haste. Bursting through the door the cold night air quickly fills your lungs, you can’t help but gasp for more. Everything is too much, your skin is too exposed, lacking the critical armour to protect you from the world. Without even thinking you turn the corner into the alley beside the building in search of a safe haven. You stumble past the dumpster before collapsing down, dragging your knees into your chest with your back wedged into the dirty corner formed by the brick wall and the cold metal of the dumpster. You try your best to wrap yourself up into your arms and legs, craving the safety of a cockpit. You can’t keep living like this, constantly shifting between too numb to experience the world and too stimulated to control yourself. What’s the point? Why did they even let you go out into the world like this.? How could they separate you from what you’d become? You feel like your entire system has been burnt out over and over again and the only thing that could hold you together is sitting in a hanger somewhere, waiting to be scrapped for parts so they can start again with some other child. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. Why couldn't they just let you keep her somehow? You can’t keep it down anymore and sobs rack through your body as you curl yourself tighter, hoping you would just disappear.
“You miss her huh?” A gentle voice cuts through your sobbing.
You freeze and dart your eyes up. Sitting across from you, her knees also pulled to her chest, you find the source of the voice. A woman with her hands clasped around her legs. The moon only illuminates the very edges of her person, making it hard to see many details beyond the gentle smile on her face. You’re sure you’ve never met this woman before, yet something about her seems oddly familiar. She tilts her head inquisitively and you realise she asked you a question.
“W-what?” you manage to stutter out while trying to wipe the tears off your face.
Her smile deepens and she leans further forward, “Your mech? You’re missing her right?”
“Wh- How did you…huh?” is all you can manage to get out in her direction before she giggles, her hand covering her mouth as she does.
Wordlessly she turns her head to the side and pulls her hair up and away revealing her neck. Sparkling in the moonlight you can clearly see the several data ports running down her neck and below her jacket. They look remarkably similar to the ones you have, although a few generations older. Your eyes grow wide as you instinctively reach up to touch your own in response. She lets her hair cascade back down to cover them and wraps her arms around her knees to once again mimic your posture. Seemingly satisfied in having quelled your confusion.
“How long have you been out?” her voice soft and gentle, a harsh contrast to the dark, damp alley surrounding the both of you.
“Oh uh…about a week I think, it all kinda blurs together” your voice a little stronger this time, the presence of someone like you a welcome distraction.
“Oh shit wow!” she blurts out before quickly covering her mouth. “Sorry it’s just, wow yea I figured you were freshly out but wow... one week? I’m so sorry.”
You try to smile back at her but you can’t stop the tears from building up, your vision quickly blurring. You don’t know what to feel, one week has already been a living hell but sitting right in front of you is proof that someone has survived much longer. Are you just uniquely useless or is she just stronger than you?
“It took my sister and I a long long time to get on our feet…” She stares off past you for a moment before continuing, “She was always a much better pilot than I was, which of course meant her body broke down way before mine did. So many nights spent just holding each other, wondering how to even exist anymore.”
Her voice wraps itself around you and gives you something to focus on, her words feel like a blanket around you. It’s almost enough to convince you that at this moment, nothing is wrong. How could she speak so calmly and confidently about something so horrible if everything isn’t going to turn out ok? Maybe you can let yourself think that, just for this moment.
“We even have our own place now!” She exclaims with a jolt of joy you weren't expecting, forcing you away from your thoughts. “Speaking of which, wanna crash at ours? It’s not far from here and I’m sure a warm apartment beats that shitty pilots shelter.” Her smile still unwavering.
“Oh no I couldn't possibly impose like that, and plus the shelter isn't all bad. We have bread this week!” You nervously chuckle, breaking eye contact with her and pulling yourself further into your protective ball.
She stands up with a grunt and takes a step closer to you, hand outstretched. “Sweetie that shelter is fucking awful and you wouldn't be imposing one bit. If anything, knowing a pretty pilot is all alone when she could have been warm and safe with us would be far far worse.”
You look up at her, a deep blush growing on your face at her words. “No point in arguing with someone that has clearly made up their mind!” you rationalise before grabbing her hand as she pulls you up off the dirty floor. Her arm immediately links into yours and she pulls you forwards out onto the sidewalk with her, the contact not helping the blush still visible on your face.
“Name’s Artemis by the way.”
You nod and whisper back to her, “I uh, don't have one yet…”
She smiles “I know sweetie, don’t worry you’ll get there.”
~~~
A short walk later you find yourself standing in front of a door for the second time in a few hours. Artemis fumbles through a key chain trying to find the right one to give her access to the apartment and quietly cursing under her breath. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, hoping that going through this door goes a lot better than the last one.
“Ah there we go!” Artemis finally finds the right key as the door clicks open and she gestures for you to head inside.
You shuffle your way through the door and into the dimly lit room. Looking around the sparse area in front of you is comforting. A small living room with a couch against the far wall and a small table covered in various bowls and glasses greets you. The low warm lights a welcome change from the bright florescents of the last room you entered tonight.
“Home!” The woman behind you yells out into the apartment.
“Yay!” an excited voice calls back from what you assume is the bedroom.
Turning towards the noise in time you see a short woman come skipping through the doorway. Her long blonde hair bouncing everywhere as she collides with Artemis and wraps her into a deep hug.
“Missed you so much Arty.” She mumbles into Artemis’s chest, you blush and look away. The display of sisterly love something entirely foreign to you.
“Missed you too sis, sorry I took so long. Our games went a little long.” Artemis wraps her sister up in her arms, a smirk crossing her face as she makes eye contact with you. “I brought home a stray to make it up to you though.”
You don’t know why but being spoken about like this causes your face to heat up. You almost speak up to protest but the smaller woman beats you to it.
“Oh yea? You win her in a bet or something?” She giggles to herself, Artemis rolls her eyes.
“No you dork, She’s just been decommissioned.” her voice falling on a more gentle tone.
“Oh…”
The smaller woman untangles from the hug and hops over towards you, her oversized sweater bouncing as she does.
“Hi! I’m Chloe, really nice to meet you and...I’m sorry” Her voice is utterly sincere.
You don’t really know what you were expecting. A part of you is screaming to leave while you still can, you just met these people and you’re already in their home, it’s stupid to feel safe just because they’re like you. A larger part of you is just tired, tired and happy to be in a warm building for once. They’re both being so nice to you and you can’t tell if it’s some sort of ploy, all of your training is telling you it’s a trap. That the moment you let your guard down it’s over. You are frozen in between these thoughts, starring down at the floor wishing you could curl up and hide.
“She’s been staying at the shelter so I figured we could give her a warm bed, and maybe you can show her your setup?” Artemis’s gentle voice bounces around the mostly empty room.
“Yea?”
“Mhm, She’s like you.” Artemis smirks, her arms wrapping around Chloe from behind. “Misses her cockpit so much it hurts.”
She plants a kiss on her younger sisters cheek, a strange feeling bubbles up in your stomach and you try your best to look away. Blood rushing to your ears. Their actions feel entirely too intimate for you to be watching. It reminds you of the way some of the other pilots would blow of steam with each other, something you were never allowed to participate in. Instead you had to sit by and try to interpret the lingering looks and acts of affection between squad mates. But these two were sisters, it can’t be like that. You must be misinterpreting again, and it’s not like you really know how siblings are meant to interact anyway.
“C’mon cutie, bedroom’s through here.” Chloe gestures to one of the two doors.
“Oh uh, I’ll be ok on the couch.” You try and argue.
“No no you need a proper bed, we are not letting you sleep on that shitty couch.” She counters back, her tone more serious now.
“Seriously I’ll be fine, anything is better than those shelter beds.” You joke, trying to diffuse the tension you’re suddenly feeling.
“I could make her?” Artemis says casually to the both of you.
“Wah?” Is all you can manage in response.
Her comment catches you off guard, the words setting off some ingrained training deep within you. Adrenaline starting to surge through you as you try and decide between fight or flight. Artemis cracks a smile at you, her posture straightening up as she takes a few steps towards you.
“Attention pilot!” She barks at you.
The words immediately stop you in your tracks. The survival training instantly breaking away, your muscles tense and you stand as tall as you can. You know you don’t have to, only your handler could force you to obey but some part of you wants to listen. You could easily just ignore the command and turn around to leave, you’re pretty sure they wouldn't even stop you if you tried hard enough. But the warm building. The promise of a soft bed. People like you. It’s all too much to resist and so you let yourself fall back on your training. You give up your control and accept that maybe they do just want to help.
“Combat report came back pilot.” Her voice loud enough to command but still holding a gentle tone. “Your neural reactivity is all over the place and your sync is way down. Starting immediately you’re grounded until you get some proper rest.”
“B-but…” you stammer in response.
“This is not a request pilot. You will follow us to our quarters and you will rest until these readings improve, is that understood?”
“Yes ma’am.” You whisper.
Before anything else can be said Chloe grabs a hold of your arm and begins leading you towards the bedroom. Artemis follows up directly behind you both as you walk through the door. The room itself is tiny, a large bed is squished into one corner barely leaving enough space for the basket of clothes on the floor next to it. Thick curtains cover the tiny window and a string of lights trace around the four walls, a soft purple glow emitting from them. The bed is covered in blankets and plush toys, a small nest of them built up in the corner with an open laptop sitting there.
Chloe begins to move the laptop and clear a space on the bed while Artemis begins to search through the clothes in the basket. Satisfied with her work, Chloe craws back towards your side of the room and wordlessly slips behind you, grabbing the zipper at the back of your flight suit. You reach up in a panic but Artemis takes your hands in hers, a warm smile across her face as she tells you that it’s ok. The sound of the zipper being undone fills the room as your flight suit drops to the floor around you. Before you can really react to the warm air on your skin fabric is pulled over your head. Suddenly you are covered in an old band shirt that is way too big for you. It hangs off your form and extends down to your knees.
Artemis gestures for you to hop on the bed and you follow without complaint, climbing into the puddle of toys and blankets. She climbs in after you, squeezing herself against the wall while Chloe fiddles around under the bed. After a short pause she pops back up with something metal held in her hands.
“Arty said you missed being in a cockpit.” Her voice is gentle as she stares down at the object in her hand. “This really helps me when I’m missing Drifter…Do you trust me?”
You look up at her in the dimly lit room, her expression is tough to read, her eyes starring deep into yours as they look for an answer. You nod. She continues to stare into you for a moment before smiling, her posture relaxing slightly as she does. She crawls forward, kneels down onto the bed, and pulls you up into a sitting position in front of her. Artemis grabs your hair and pulls it off the back of your neck as Chloe reaches around you. You feel the cold touch of metal on your upper back for a brief moment before there is a heavy “click” and you feel your neural ports fill up, causing you to gasp and flinch. For a brief moment expect to be connected to another mind...but nothing happens. Looking up at Chloe in confusion you see her move her hands around to the front of your neck and hear another “click” as more metal clasps around your neck.
Reaching up to investigate you find a collar wrapped around your neck. Confusion evaporates from your body as you recognise the design as an older form of neural spike, the collar designed to keep the ports connected during the intensity of piloting. Later models of both mechs and spikes evolved past the need for such a thing.
“It doesn't connect to anything unfortunately but, it helps me when I’m missing her. I know it isn’t the same as what you would have had but I hope it helps... at least a little.” Chloe speaks almost away from you, her voice shaking slightly.
“It feels…” you take a long moment to concentrate on the feeling, a feeling you’ve been desperately missing. “…It feels really nice”
“Good, then lets both of you get some sleep ok?” Artemis speaks for the first time in a while from behind you.
Strong arms wrap around your waist from behind you as Artemis pulls you under the blankets and firmly into a tight cuddle. Chloe fiddles around with a speaker for a brief moment before snuggling up into the front of you. Her hand resting on the back of your head as she gives you a few gentle pats. Muffled sounds begin to play out into the room, gentle and distant. It starts to envelop you, the loud engineering noises of a workshop dampened by the thick armour of a cockpit. The gentle breathing of the two sisters joins the symphony and for the first time in over a week sleep comes easy.
~~~
A shifting disturbs you, movement across from you drawing you to consciousness. You open your eyes and find yourself still in the dimly lit room. Your back pressed tightly into the warm body behind you and your face resting gently against the chest of the girl in front of you. Blood rushed to your face as you become more aware of the situation. You remember falling asleep pressed between the two sisters. You attempt to wriggle slightly but you are only met with the arms around your waist holding you tighter with a sleepy groan.
“Morning pilot.” A gentle whisper comes from above you.
You look up to see Chloe’s face smiling down at you, her hair a mess and her eyelids half open.
“Enjoying the view?” She says with a giggle.
Your face heats up even more in response. You want to hide but the two bodies pressed against you have you trapped, leaving you with one option. You push your face further into her chest in a desperate attempt to hide from her gaze. Her giggles intensify as you do, her hand covering her mouth in an attempt to not wake up her sister.
“Fuck you are adorable.” She whispers between laughter.
You let out a half groan half whimper. It is far too early in the morning to be experiencing such an onslaught. Her arms move to wrap you up further in her embrace, her form enveloping most of you. Her sister sleepily holding the rest of you.
“Chloe…” you mumble into her chest.
“Yea?”
“You and Artemis are close right?” You pull your head from her chest to meet her eyes.
She stares back at you for a moment, considering the question. “Well yea, we spent years with our thoughts in each others brains. Can’t get much closer than that.”
“Right...I-Uh, What is that like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well it just seems...I never really- I wasn’t like- I dont know, having a sister to look out for you seems really nice…” You barely manage to choke out the words, too embarrassed to meet her eyes.
She doesn't respond for a moment. Her eyes scan up and down your face. You begin to worry you said something wrong, the intense expression scrawled across her face difficult for you to read. After what feels like forever the look breaks and her lips curl into a smile.
“I could show you.” Her voice barely a whisper.
She shuffles closer towards you, a feat you thought would be impossible. Her face close enough to yours you can feel the heat on your cheeks. Her eyes again scanning your face.
“Do you trust me...sis?” Her hot breath brushes against your lips.
Her eyes pierce through you as you let out a shaky breath, your stomach feels like it’s being flipped around a million times. Her body is pressed against yours, the warmth is so inviting. The warmth surrounding you has you feeling as safe as 100 tons of armour used to, it feels like nothing can go wrong. You nod.
She closes the remaining distance between you in an instant. Her lips collide with yours hard, the softest attack you’ve ever felt. Her hand reaches up to cup your face and you feel a strange warmth spreading through your body. You don't know how long it’s been when she finally pulls away, a gentle whine chasing her lips as they leave.
“How was that?” She teases.
Feeling confident for the first time in weeks you close the distance again, clumsily pressing your lips against hers. The warmth of her embrace something you’re beginning to crave. A small moan vibrates against your lips catching you by surprise. Your second ever kiss proving to be even better than the first, even though you have no idea what you’re doing. Movement stirs behind you, the hands wrapped around your stomach grab you tighter as you feel hot breath on your neck.
“Mmmm baby, are you playing with our pilot without me?” Artemis speaks up from behind you, her voice groggy.
You freeze for a moment, unsure how to respond. Pulling back you look towards Chloe, a grin growing across her face as she props herself up on her elbow.
“Oh hi sis. Our little pilot here wanted to know what having a sister was like.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Artemis giggles. “And so you stuck your tongue down her throat huh?”
“Geez sis it’s not like she’s actually related to me.” Chloe's eyes roll as she speaks.
“Not like that would ever stop you, freak.”
Artemis pushes you flat onto the bed, her strong arms holding you down as she leans over and kisses her sister. The two of them making out above you while you’re pinned to the bed, each of them moaning gently into the others mouth. You’re transfixed, starring at the two of them above you as a deep blush grows across you. Your heart pumping faster and faster. Their kiss finally breaks leaving them both out of breath. Both of their attentions now turning towards you.
“Arty, I think our pilot is feeling left out.” Chloe’s says with an exaggerated pout.
“Aw I think you’re right.” Artemis giggles.
They both descend on you, a pair of lips meeting with yours. A much more aggressive kiss than the first few. More lips land at your neck causing you to moan into the tongue currently exploring your mouth. Legs start to straddle your hips, a hand grabbing your hair as your mouth is mapped of every detail. A second body pulls in close to your side, her hands wandering under the baggy shirt you’re still wearing. The warm touch of fingers across your bare skin causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach. A hand starts to dance at the edge of your panties, teasing the fabric. You have no idea whose hand belongs to who and you don’t care. Something deep is bubbling up inside you, a burning desire you can’t help but feed.
“P-please.” You manage to squeak out.
Lips slam back into you preventing you from saying anything else. The hands roaming your body climb up towards your chest, teasing circles being drawn around your tits. Another hand finally dips below the line of your panties and between your thighs. Your hips buck and shake in response, the mass of sensory inputs overwhelming your system. Your hands grip the sheets around you in an attempt to ground yourself, the attacks against you only getting more intense.
“She looks so pretty like this.” A voice reaches your ears, you can’t tell whose.
“Fuck sis we might just have to keep her.”
More words are said but it all becomes just noise to you. Every touch and kiss and bite and pinch just pushes you further away from composure. You buck your hips further into the hand between your legs, begging for more friction. The hands against your chest squeeze and pinch at your sensitive skin. A mouth planting rough kisses up your neck and across your jaw. The tongue dancing across your lips still conquering your mouth.
You feel a pressure building across your system. A feeling you’d only get after tearing apart an enemy with your claws. The pressure building as if you’re deploying countermeasures to perfectly counter an attack against you. You body vibrating like you just emptied a mag into an exposed cockpit. Noises you’d only make after tearing apart an entire squadron without a scratch on you. You feel stuck in a feedback look and nothing can save you, you’re burning up without a chance of being saved.
Teeth pierce the skin on your neck and a critical mass is reached. You tense and curl as something fires through you like plasma. Everything that had been building comes crashing down as you groan into the girl above you. A tidal wave of pleasure and agony coiling and crashing down upon you. Your body bucking wildly into the warm bodies holding you down.
Eventually the fire raging through you burns itself down into an ember. You take a breath for what feels like the first time in hours. You finally open your eyes again to see the sisters moving into more comfortable positions. Chloe pulls you towards her chest, her arms and legs wrapping you into a warm embrace. Artemis closes in from your front, closing the trap around you. Their hands gently caressing you as you come down from whatever was just done to you.
You smile and nuzzle your head as deep into the chest in front of you as you can. Tension that had been crushing you all but evaporated now as you feel the two bodies protecting you like armour. A gentle kiss is placed on your forehead and a voice vibrates through you.
“Rest up pilot, you’re safe here.”
You still don’t know what the future holds for you. You don’t know what you are or what you’ll do.
But right here right now, maybe you want to find out.
~~~
ko-fi
any support appreciated, especially nice comments <3
You look down at the crumpled piece of paper in your hands one more time, the address scrawled across it barely legible. The scrap of information hastily given to you as you were decommissioned, done out of a guide-lined necessity over any ounce of compassion. You didn’t think anything of it during your departure but here you are, desperate. The door in front of you has however, stopped you in your tracks. A small barrier causing you to rethink this entire decision. On the one hand they might be able to help things like you, maybe they’ll know what you are now, what you need to do. On the other, what if they can’t, what if it doesn't get better than this...You try to push the thought from your mind as you will yourself forward, through the doorway, and into the unknown.
On the other side you slam into a wall of incomprehensible noise, the sound of dozens of conversations all happening at once around the room. The unfiltered cacophony painful in your ears. You desperately wish it was still being filtered by dozens of layers of sensors and electronic defence systems. Looking around the room does nothing to ease your feelings, groups of people sit scattered at several old looking tables, some playing what seems to be a type of card game, others just chatting and laughing between each other. The entire environment is completely foreign to you. You’ve never been in a room with this many people in it, unless you count the engineers in your hanger, but you were hardly ever separated from the isolation of your cockpit long enough to notice.
“Hey, are you new?” A cheery voice cuts through your thoughts and your eyes focus on the small framed girl in front of you.
“Uh…” Panic catches in your throat at suddenly being perceived and your mind empties of all rational responses.
“Wanna come with me? I’ll introduce you to some of us!” Her voice full of confidence as she turns and starts heading towards a small table to the side of the room, her face beaming back at you as she goes.
Looking around awkwardly you manage to push yourself into moving after her. Anxiety sitting like a stone in your stomach as you approach a table of compete strangers. The idle chatter of the table starts to die down as you catch up to the smaller girl.
“Hey guys, made a new friend! Be nice.” She stares with mock intensity at the group before giggling and sliding into one of the free seats around the table, the metal screeching against the floor as she gestures for you to do the same.
“H-hi” You manage to squeak out while you pull out the free chair and cautiously take a seat.
They all smile and offer gentle welcomes, you try your best to respond pleasantly but you haven't had this much social interaction since you were a child, before you were recruited.
“How’d you hear about this place?” You hear one of them ask.
“Oh um...they said there would be people like me here that could... help...”
They all nod and smile once again and the conversation continues on without you, occasionally flowing towards you as you offer a nod or a one word answer. All you can think about is how exposed you feel, surrounded by so many people with no armour or weapons. A constant stream of system data replaced by the overwhelming onslaught of social cues and irrelevant conversations.
“Oh hey!” one of them directs towards you, “What kinda rig did you have?”
You tilt your head in confusion, her question asked so excitedly you feel stupid for having not idea what it could mean. It must be clearly written across your face because she starts to clarify.
“Ya know like, us four here all ran pretty standard type seven movers but I know a few of the others got to fuck around with those fancy ship shunters they have at the space ports...” She finishes and they all turn to you expectantly.
“Oh right uh…well all combat mechs are custom built to the pilot, I think I heard the techs call her a Crimson class once though.” Your voice comes out weak, part of your brain desperately searching for details you know you don't have. You didn't need to know such things so they never told you, and for all you cared she was made of you, and you of her, nothing else mattered.
You look up, shaking the memories away only to be met with wide eyed stares from everyone at the table. “Y-you were a combat pilot?” one of them states more than asks. You nod cautiously, sensing the sudden mood shift around the table.
“Like with the neural ports and everything?” another one asks, curiosity mixed with another emotion you are unable to read plastered across each of their faces.
Instinctively you reach to the back of your neck, the circular holes in your flight suit leaving the cold metal open to your touch. The suit does its best to hide them from a casual glance at least.
“I thought it was too dangerous to let you guys out in public?” One of the girls mutters. “My friend told me combat pilots were all comatose.” Says another, more to herself then to you.
The one that had invited you to the table grabs them both aggressively by the arm and says something under her breath but you don’t hear it. You can feel yourself shutting down rapidly, social functions failing as you spiral. The looks on their faces burning into your memory. It was stupid to think they’d be any different, that they’d be able to help, to know what to do now. Instead they look at you the same way everyone does.
You excuse yourself from the table, voice catching in your throat as you stumble on the legs of your chair. None of the girls make any attempt to stop you past a few vague half-hearted protests. Quickly you make your way towards the exit, trying desperately not to crash into anyone in your haste. Bursting through the door the cold night air quickly fills your lungs, you can’t help but gasp for more. Everything is too much, your skin is too exposed, lacking the critical armour to protect you from the world. Without even thinking you turn the corner into the alley beside the building in search of a safe haven. You stumble past the dumpster before collapsing down, dragging your knees into your chest with your back wedged into the dirty corner formed by the brick wall and the cold metal of the dumpster. You try your best to wrap yourself up into your arms and legs, craving the safety of a cockpit. You can’t keep living like this, constantly shifting between too numb to experience the world and too stimulated to control yourself. What’s the point? Why did they even let you go out into the world like this.? How could they separate you from what you’d become? You feel like your entire system has been burnt out over and over again and the only thing that could hold you together is sitting in a hanger somewhere, waiting to be scrapped for parts so they can start again with some other child. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. Why couldn't they just let you keep her somehow? You can’t keep it down anymore and sobs rack through your body as you curl yourself tighter, hoping you would just disappear.
“You miss her huh?” A gentle voice cuts through your sobbing.
You freeze and dart your eyes up. Sitting across from you, her knees also pulled to her chest, you find the source of the voice. A woman with her hands clasped around her legs. The moon only illuminates the very edges of her person, making it hard to see many details beyond the gentle smile on her face. You’re sure you’ve never met this woman before, yet something about her seems oddly familiar. She tilts her head inquisitively and you realise she asked you a question.
“W-what?” you manage to stutter out while trying to wipe the tears off your face.
Her smile deepens and she leans further forward, “Your mech? You’re missing her right?”
“Wh- How did you…huh?” is all you can manage to get out in her direction before she giggles, her hand covering her mouth as she does.
Wordlessly she turns her head to the side and pulls her hair up and away revealing her neck. Sparkling in the moonlight you can clearly see the several data ports running down her neck and below her jacket. They look remarkably similar to the ones you have, although a few generations older. Your eyes grow wide as you instinctively reach up to touch your own in response. She lets her hair cascade back down to cover them and wraps her arms around her knees to once again mimic your posture. Seemingly satisfied in having quelled your confusion.
“How long have you been out?” her voice soft and gentle, a harsh contrast to the dark, damp alley surrounding the both of you.
“Oh uh…about a week I think, it all kinda blurs together” your voice a little stronger this time, the presence of someone like you a welcome distraction.
“Oh shit wow!” she blurts out before quickly covering her mouth. “Sorry it’s just, wow yea I figured you were freshly out but wow... one week? I’m so sorry.”
You try to smile back at her but you can’t stop the tears from building up, your vision quickly blurring. You don’t know what to feel, one week has already been a living hell but sitting right in front of you is proof that someone has survived much longer. Are you just uniquely useless or is she just stronger than you?
“It took my sister and I a long long time to get on our feet…” She stares off past you for a moment before continuing, “She was always a much better pilot than I was, which of course meant her body broke down way before mine did. So many nights spent just holding each other, wondering how to even exist anymore.”
Her voice wraps itself around you and gives you something to focus on, her words feel like a blanket around you. It’s almost enough to convince you that at this moment, nothing is wrong. How could she speak so calmly and confidently about something so horrible if everything isn’t going to turn out ok? Maybe you can let yourself think that, just for this moment.
“We even have our own place now!” She exclaims with a jolt of joy you weren't expecting, forcing you away from your thoughts. “Speaking of which, wanna crash at ours? It’s not far from here and I’m sure a warm apartment beats that shitty pilots shelter.” Her smile still unwavering.
“Oh no I couldn't possibly impose like that, and plus the shelter isn't all bad. We have bread this week!” You nervously chuckle, breaking eye contact with her and pulling yourself further into your protective ball.
She stands up with a grunt and takes a step closer to you, hand outstretched. “Sweetie that shelter is fucking awful and you wouldn't be imposing one bit. If anything, knowing a pretty pilot is all alone when she could have been warm and safe with us would be far far worse.”
You look up at her, a deep blush growing on your face at her words. “No point in arguing with someone that has clearly made up their mind!” you rationalise before grabbing her hand as she pulls you up off the dirty floor. Her arm immediately links into yours and she pulls you forwards out onto the sidewalk with her, the contact not helping the blush still visible on your face.
“Name’s Artemis by the way.”
You nod and whisper back to her, “I uh, don't have one yet…”
She smiles “I know sweetie, don’t worry you’ll get there.”
~~~
A short walk later you find yourself standing in front of a door for the second time in a few hours. Artemis fumbles through a key chain trying to find the right one to give her access to the apartment and quietly cursing under her breath. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, hoping that going through this door goes a lot better than the last one.
“Ah there we go!” Artemis finally finds the right key as the door clicks open and she gestures for you to head inside.
You shuffle your way through the door and into the dimly lit room. Looking around the sparse area in front of you is comforting. A small living room with a couch against the far wall and a small table covered in various bowls and glasses greets you. The low warm lights a welcome change from the bright florescents of the last room you entered tonight.
“Home!” The woman behind you yells out into the apartment.
“Yay!” an excited voice calls back from what you assume is the bedroom.
Turning towards the noise in time you see a short woman come skipping through the doorway. Her long blonde hair bouncing everywhere as she collides with Artemis and wraps her into a deep hug.
“Missed you so much Arty.” She mumbles into Artemis’s chest, you blush and look away. The display of sisterly love something entirely foreign to you.
“Missed you too sis, sorry I took so long. Our games went a little long.” Artemis wraps her sister up in her arms, a smirk crossing her face as she makes eye contact with you. “I brought home a stray to make it up to you though.”
You don’t know why but being spoken about like this causes your face to heat up. You almost speak up to protest but the smaller woman beats you to it.
“Oh yea? You win her in a bet or something?” She giggles to herself, Artemis rolls her eyes.
“No you dork, She’s just been decommissioned.” her voice falling on a more gentle tone.
“Oh…”
The smaller woman untangles from the hug and hops over towards you, her oversized sweater bouncing as she does.
“Hi! I’m Chloe, really nice to meet you and...I’m sorry” Her voice is utterly sincere.
You don’t really know what you were expecting. A part of you is screaming to leave while you still can, you just met these people and you’re already in their home, it’s stupid to feel safe just because they’re like you. A larger part of you is just tired, tired and happy to be in a warm building for once. They’re both being so nice to you and you can’t tell if it’s some sort of ploy, all of your training is telling you it’s a trap. That the moment you let your guard down it’s over. You are frozen in between these thoughts, starring down at the floor wishing you could curl up and hide.
“She’s been staying at the shelter so I figured we could give her a warm bed, and maybe you can show her your setup?” Artemis’s gentle voice bounces around the mostly empty room.
“Yea?”
“Mhm, She’s like you.” Artemis smirks, her arms wrapping around Chloe from behind. “Misses her cockpit so much it hurts.”
She plants a kiss on her younger sisters cheek, a strange feeling bubbles up in your stomach and you try your best to look away. Blood rushing to your ears. Their actions feel entirely too intimate for you to be watching. It reminds you of the way some of the other pilots would blow of steam with each other, something you were never allowed to participate in. Instead you had to sit by and try to interpret the lingering looks and acts of affection between squad mates. But these two were sisters, it can’t be like that. You must be misinterpreting again, and it’s not like you really know how siblings are meant to interact anyway.
“C’mon cutie, bedroom’s through here.” Chloe gestures to one of the two doors.
“Oh uh, I’ll be ok on the couch.” You try and argue.
“No no you need a proper bed, we are not letting you sleep on that shitty couch.” She counters back, her tone more serious now.
“Seriously I’ll be fine, anything is better than those shelter beds.” You joke, trying to diffuse the tension you’re suddenly feeling.
“I could make her?” Artemis says casually to the both of you.
“Wah?” Is all you can manage in response.
Her comment catches you off guard, the words setting off some ingrained training deep within you. Adrenaline starting to surge through you as you try and decide between fight or flight. Artemis cracks a smile at you, her posture straightening up as she takes a few steps towards you.
“Attention pilot!” She barks at you.
The words immediately stop you in your tracks. The survival training instantly breaking away, your muscles tense and you stand as tall as you can. You know you don’t have to, only your handler could force you to obey but some part of you wants to listen. You could easily just ignore the command and turn around to leave, you’re pretty sure they wouldn't even stop you if you tried hard enough. But the warm building. The promise of a soft bed. People like you. It’s all too much to resist and so you let yourself fall back on your training. You give up your control and accept that maybe they do just want to help.
“Combat report came back pilot.” Her voice loud enough to command but still holding a gentle tone. “Your neural reactivity is all over the place and your sync is way down. Starting immediately you’re grounded until you get some proper rest.”
“B-but…” you stammer in response.
“This is not a request pilot. You will follow us to our quarters and you will rest until these readings improve, is that understood?”
“Yes ma’am.” You whisper.
Before anything else can be said Chloe grabs a hold of your arm and begins leading you towards the bedroom. Artemis follows up directly behind you both as you walk through the door. The room itself is tiny, a large bed is squished into one corner barely leaving enough space for the basket of clothes on the floor next to it. Thick curtains cover the tiny window and a string of lights trace around the four walls, a soft purple glow emitting from them. The bed is covered in blankets and plush toys, a small nest of them built up in the corner with an open laptop sitting there.
Chloe begins to move the laptop and clear a space on the bed while Artemis begins to search through the clothes in the basket. Satisfied with her work, Chloe craws back towards your side of the room and wordlessly slips behind you, grabbing the zipper at the back of your flight suit. You reach up in a panic but Artemis takes your hands in hers, a warm smile across her face as she tells you that it’s ok. The sound of the zipper being undone fills the room as your flight suit drops to the floor around you. Before you can really react to the warm air on your skin fabric is pulled over your head. Suddenly you are covered in an old band shirt that is way too big for you. It hangs off your form and extends down to your knees.
Artemis gestures for you to hop on the bed and you follow without complaint, climbing into the puddle of toys and blankets. She climbs in after you, squeezing herself against the wall while Chloe fiddles around under the bed. After a short pause she pops back up with something metal held in her hands.
“Arty said you missed being in a cockpit.” Her voice is gentle as she stares down at the object in her hand. “This really helps me when I’m missing Drifter…Do you trust me?”
You look up at her in the dimly lit room, her expression is tough to read, her eyes starring deep into yours as they look for an answer. You nod. She continues to stare into you for a moment before smiling, her posture relaxing slightly as she does. She crawls forward, kneels down onto the bed, and pulls you up into a sitting position in front of her. Artemis grabs your hair and pulls it off the back of your neck as Chloe reaches around you. You feel the cold touch of metal on your upper back for a brief moment before there is a heavy “click” and you feel your neural ports fill up, causing you to gasp and flinch. For a brief moment expect to be connected to another mind...but nothing happens. Looking up at Chloe in confusion you see her move her hands around to the front of your neck and hear another “click” as more metal clasps around your neck.
Reaching up to investigate you find a collar wrapped around your neck. Confusion evaporates from your body as you recognise the design as an older form of neural spike, the collar designed to keep the ports connected during the intensity of piloting. Later models of both mechs and spikes evolved past the need for such a thing.
“It doesn't connect to anything unfortunately but, it helps me when I’m missing her. I know it isn’t the same as what you would have had but I hope it helps... at least a little.” Chloe speaks almost away from you, her voice shaking slightly.
“It feels…” you take a long moment to concentrate on the feeling, a feeling you’ve been desperately missing. “…It feels really nice”
“Good, then lets both of you get some sleep ok?” Artemis speaks for the first time in a while from behind you.
Strong arms wrap around your waist from behind you as Artemis pulls you under the blankets and firmly into a tight cuddle. Chloe fiddles around with a speaker for a brief moment before snuggling up into the front of you. Her hand resting on the back of your head as she gives you a few gentle pats. Muffled sounds begin to play out into the room, gentle and distant. It starts to envelop you, the loud engineering noises of a workshop dampened by the thick armour of a cockpit. The gentle breathing of the two sisters joins the symphony and for the first time in over a week sleep comes easy.
~~~
A shifting disturbs you, movement across from you drawing you to consciousness. You open your eyes and find yourself still in the dimly lit room. Your back pressed tightly into the warm body behind you and your face resting gently against the chest of the girl in front of you. Blood rushed to your face as you become more aware of the situation. You remember falling asleep pressed between the two sisters. You attempt to wriggle slightly but you are only met with the arms around your waist holding you tighter with a sleepy groan.
“Morning pilot.” A gentle whisper comes from above you.
You look up to see Chloe’s face smiling down at you, her hair a mess and her eyelids half open.
“Enjoying the view?” She says with a giggle.
Your face heats up even more in response. You want to hide but the two bodies pressed against you have you trapped, leaving you with one option. You push your face further into her chest in a desperate attempt to hide from her gaze. Her giggles intensify as you do, her hand covering her mouth in an attempt to not wake up her sister.
“Fuck you are adorable.” She whispers between laughter.
You let out a half groan half whimper. It is far too early in the morning to be experiencing such an onslaught. Her arms move to wrap you up further in her embrace, her form enveloping most of you. Her sister sleepily holding the rest of you.
“Chloe…” you mumble into her chest.
“Yea?”
“You and Artemis are close right?” You pull your head from her chest to meet her eyes.
She stares back at you for a moment, considering the question. “Well yea, we spent years with our thoughts in each others brains. Can’t get much closer than that.”
“Right...I-Uh, What is that like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well it just seems...I never really- I wasn’t like- I dont know, having a sister to look out for you seems really nice…” You barely manage to choke out the words, too embarrassed to meet her eyes.
She doesn't respond for a moment. Her eyes scan up and down your face. You begin to worry you said something wrong, the intense expression scrawled across her face difficult for you to read. After what feels like forever the look breaks and her lips curl into a smile.
“I could show you.” Her voice barely a whisper.
She shuffles closer towards you, a feat you thought would be impossible. Her face close enough to yours you can feel the heat on your cheeks. Her eyes again scanning your face.
“Do you trust me...sis?” Her hot breath brushes against your lips.
Her eyes pierce through you as you let out a shaky breath, your stomach feels like it’s being flipped around a million times. Her body is pressed against yours, the warmth is so inviting. The warmth surrounding you has you feeling as safe as 100 tons of armour used to, it feels like nothing can go wrong. You nod.
She closes the remaining distance between you in an instant. Her lips collide with yours hard, the softest attack you’ve ever felt. Her hand reaches up to cup your face and you feel a strange warmth spreading through your body. You don't know how long it’s been when she finally pulls away, a gentle whine chasing her lips as they leave.
“How was that?” She teases.
Feeling confident for the first time in weeks you close the distance again, clumsily pressing your lips against hers. The warmth of her embrace something you’re beginning to crave. A small moan vibrates against your lips catching you by surprise. Your second ever kiss proving to be even better than the first, even though you have no idea what you’re doing. Movement stirs behind you, the hands wrapped around your stomach grab you tighter as you feel hot breath on your neck.
“Mmmm baby, are you playing with our pilot without me?” Artemis speaks up from behind you, her voice groggy.
You freeze for a moment, unsure how to respond. Pulling back you look towards Chloe, a grin growing across her face as she props herself up on her elbow.
“Oh hi sis. Our little pilot here wanted to know what having a sister was like.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Artemis giggles. “And so you stuck your tongue down her throat huh?”
“Geez sis it’s not like she’s actually related to me.” Chloe's eyes roll as she speaks.
“Not like that would ever stop you, freak.”
Artemis pushes you flat onto the bed, her strong arms holding you down as she leans over and kisses her sister. The two of them making out above you while you’re pinned to the bed, each of them moaning gently into the others mouth. You’re transfixed, starring at the two of them above you as a deep blush grows across you. Your heart pumping faster and faster. Their kiss finally breaks leaving them both out of breath. Both of their attentions now turning towards you.
“Arty, I think our pilot is feeling left out.” Chloe’s says with an exaggerated pout.
“Aw I think you’re right.” Artemis giggles.
They both descend on you, a pair of lips meeting with yours. A much more aggressive kiss than the first few. More lips land at your neck causing you to moan into the tongue currently exploring your mouth. Legs start to straddle your hips, a hand grabbing your hair as your mouth is mapped of every detail. A second body pulls in close to your side, her hands wandering under the baggy shirt you’re still wearing. The warm touch of fingers across your bare skin causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach. A hand starts to dance at the edge of your panties, teasing the fabric. You have no idea whose hand belongs to who and you don’t care. Something deep is bubbling up inside you, a burning desire you can’t help but feed.
“P-please.” You manage to squeak out.
Lips slam back into you preventing you from saying anything else. The hands roaming your body climb up towards your chest, teasing circles being drawn around your tits. Another hand finally dips below the line of your panties and between your thighs. Your hips buck and shake in response, the mass of sensory inputs overwhelming your system. Your hands grip the sheets around you in an attempt to ground yourself, the attacks against you only getting more intense.
“She looks so pretty like this.” A voice reaches your ears, you can’t tell whose.
“Fuck sis we might just have to keep her.”
More words are said but it all becomes just noise to you. Every touch and kiss and bite and pinch just pushes you further away from composure. You buck your hips further into the hand between your legs, begging for more friction. The hands against your chest squeeze and pinch at your sensitive skin. A mouth planting rough kisses up your neck and across your jaw. The tongue dancing across your lips still conquering your mouth.
You feel a pressure building across your system. A feeling you’d only get after tearing apart an enemy with your claws. The pressure building as if you’re deploying countermeasures to perfectly counter an attack against you. You body vibrating like you just emptied a mag into an exposed cockpit. Noises you’d only make after tearing apart an entire squadron without a scratch on you. You feel stuck in a feedback look and nothing can save you, you’re burning up without a chance of being saved.
Teeth pierce the skin on your neck and a critical mass is reached. You tense and curl as something fires through you like plasma. Everything that had been building comes crashing down as you groan into the girl above you. A tidal wave of pleasure and agony coiling and crashing down upon you. Your body bucking wildly into the warm bodies holding you down.
Eventually the fire raging through you burns itself down into an ember. You take a breath for what feels like the first time in hours. You finally open your eyes again to see the sisters moving into more comfortable positions. Chloe pulls you towards her chest, her arms and legs wrapping you into a warm embrace. Artemis closes in from your front, closing the trap around you. Their hands gently caressing you as you come down from whatever was just done to you.
You smile and nuzzle your head as deep into the chest in front of you as you can. Tension that had been crushing you all but evaporated now as you feel the two bodies protecting you like armour. A gentle kiss is placed on your forehead and a voice vibrates through you.
“Rest up pilot, you’re safe here.”
You still don’t know what the future holds for you. You don’t know what you are or what you’ll do.
But right here right now, maybe you want to find out.
~~~
ko-fi
any support appreciated, especially nice comments <3
You look down at the crumpled piece of paper in your hands one more time, the address scrawled across it barely legible. The scrap of information hastily given to you as you were decommissioned, done out of a guide-lined necessity over any ounce of compassion. You didn’t think anything of it during your departure but here you are, desperate. The door in front of you has however, stopped you in your tracks. A small barrier causing you to rethink this entire decision. On the one hand they might be able to help things like you, maybe they’ll know what you are now, what you need to do. On the other, what if they can’t, what if it doesn't get better than this...You try to push the thought from your mind as you will yourself forward, through the doorway, and into the unknown.
On the other side you slam into a wall of incomprehensible noise, the sound of dozens of conversations all happening at once around the room. The unfiltered cacophony painful in your ears. You desperately wish it was still being filtered by dozens of layers of sensors and electronic defence systems. Looking around the room does nothing to ease your feelings, groups of people sit scattered at several old looking tables, some playing what seems to be a type of card game, others just chatting and laughing between each other. The entire environment is completely foreign to you. You’ve never been in a room with this many people in it, unless you count the engineers in your hanger, but you were hardly ever separated from the isolation of your cockpit long enough to notice.
“Hey, are you new?” A cheery voice cuts through your thoughts and your eyes focus on the small framed girl in front of you.
“Uh…” Panic catches in your throat at suddenly being perceived and your mind empties of all rational responses.
“Wanna come with me? I’ll introduce you to some of us!” Her voice full of confidence as she turns and starts heading towards a small table to the side of the room, her face beaming back at you as she goes.
Looking around awkwardly you manage to push yourself into moving after her. Anxiety sitting like a stone in your stomach as you approach a table of compete strangers. The idle chatter of the table starts to die down as you catch up to the smaller girl.
“Hey guys, made a new friend! Be nice.” She stares with mock intensity at the group before giggling and sliding into one of the free seats around the table, the metal screeching against the floor as she gestures for you to do the same.
“H-hi” You manage to squeak out while you pull out the free chair and cautiously take a seat.
They all smile and offer gentle welcomes, you try your best to respond pleasantly but you haven't had this much social interaction since you were a child, before you were recruited.
“How’d you hear about this place?” You hear one of them ask.
“Oh um...they said there would be people like me here that could... help...”
They all nod and smile once again and the conversation continues on without you, occasionally flowing towards you as you offer a nod or a one word answer. All you can think about is how exposed you feel, surrounded by so many people with no armour or weapons. A constant stream of system data replaced by the overwhelming onslaught of social cues and irrelevant conversations.
“Oh hey!” one of them directs towards you, “What kinda rig did you have?”
You tilt your head in confusion, her question asked so excitedly you feel stupid for having not idea what it could mean. It must be clearly written across your face because she starts to clarify.
“Ya know like, us four here all ran pretty standard type seven movers but I know a few of the others got to fuck around with those fancy ship shunters they have at the space ports...” She finishes and they all turn to you expectantly.
“Oh right uh…well all combat mechs are custom built to the pilot, I think I heard the techs call her a Crimson class once though.” Your voice comes out weak, part of your brain desperately searching for details you know you don't have. You didn't need to know such things so they never told you, and for all you cared she was made of you, and you of her, nothing else mattered.
You look up, shaking the memories away only to be met with wide eyed stares from everyone at the table. “Y-you were a combat pilot?” one of them states more than asks. You nod cautiously, sensing the sudden mood shift around the table.
“Like with the neural ports and everything?” another one asks, curiosity mixed with another emotion you are unable to read plastered across each of their faces.
Instinctively you reach to the back of your neck, the circular holes in your flight suit leaving the cold metal open to your touch. The suit does its best to hide them from a casual glance at least.
“I thought it was too dangerous to let you guys out in public?” One of the girls mutters. “My friend told me combat pilots were all comatose.” Says another, more to herself then to you.
The one that had invited you to the table grabs them both aggressively by the arm and says something under her breath but you don’t hear it. You can feel yourself shutting down rapidly, social functions failing as you spiral. The looks on their faces burning into your memory. It was stupid to think they’d be any different, that they’d be able to help, to know what to do now. Instead they look at you the same way everyone does.
You excuse yourself from the table, voice catching in your throat as you stumble on the legs of your chair. None of the girls make any attempt to stop you past a few vague half-hearted protests. Quickly you make your way towards the exit, trying desperately not to crash into anyone in your haste. Bursting through the door the cold night air quickly fills your lungs, you can’t help but gasp for more. Everything is too much, your skin is too exposed, lacking the critical armour to protect you from the world. Without even thinking you turn the corner into the alley beside the building in search of a safe haven. You stumble past the dumpster before collapsing down, dragging your knees into your chest with your back wedged into the dirty corner formed by the brick wall and the cold metal of the dumpster. You try your best to wrap yourself up into your arms and legs, craving the safety of a cockpit. You can’t keep living like this, constantly shifting between too numb to experience the world and too stimulated to control yourself. What’s the point? Why did they even let you go out into the world like this.? How could they separate you from what you’d become? You feel like your entire system has been burnt out over and over again and the only thing that could hold you together is sitting in a hanger somewhere, waiting to be scrapped for parts so they can start again with some other child. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. Why couldn't they just let you keep her somehow? You can’t keep it down anymore and sobs rack through your body as you curl yourself tighter, hoping you would just disappear.
“You miss her huh?” A gentle voice cuts through your sobbing.
You freeze and dart your eyes up. Sitting across from you, her knees also pulled to her chest, you find the source of the voice. A woman with her hands clasped around her legs. The moon only illuminates the very edges of her person, making it hard to see many details beyond the gentle smile on her face. You’re sure you’ve never met this woman before, yet something about her seems oddly familiar. She tilts her head inquisitively and you realise she asked you a question.
“W-what?” you manage to stutter out while trying to wipe the tears off your face.
Her smile deepens and she leans further forward, “Your mech? You’re missing her right?”
“Wh- How did you…huh?” is all you can manage to get out in her direction before she giggles, her hand covering her mouth as she does.
Wordlessly she turns her head to the side and pulls her hair up and away revealing her neck. Sparkling in the moonlight you can clearly see the several data ports running down her neck and below her jacket. They look remarkably similar to the ones you have, although a few generations older. Your eyes grow wide as you instinctively reach up to touch your own in response. She lets her hair cascade back down to cover them and wraps her arms around her knees to once again mimic your posture. Seemingly satisfied in having quelled your confusion.
“How long have you been out?” her voice soft and gentle, a harsh contrast to the dark, damp alley surrounding the both of you.
“Oh uh…about a week I think, it all kinda blurs together” your voice a little stronger this time, the presence of someone like you a welcome distraction.
“Oh shit wow!” she blurts out before quickly covering her mouth. “Sorry it’s just, wow yea I figured you were freshly out but wow... one week? I’m so sorry.”
You try to smile back at her but you can’t stop the tears from building up, your vision quickly blurring. You don’t know what to feel, one week has already been a living hell but sitting right in front of you is proof that someone has survived much longer. Are you just uniquely useless or is she just stronger than you?
“It took my sister and I a long long time to get on our feet…” She stares off past you for a moment before continuing, “She was always a much better pilot than I was, which of course meant her body broke down way before mine did. So many nights spent just holding each other, wondering how to even exist anymore.”
Her voice wraps itself around you and gives you something to focus on, her words feel like a blanket around you. It’s almost enough to convince you that at this moment, nothing is wrong. How could she speak so calmly and confidently about something so horrible if everything isn’t going to turn out ok? Maybe you can let yourself think that, just for this moment.
“We even have our own place now!” She exclaims with a jolt of joy you weren't expecting, forcing you away from your thoughts. “Speaking of which, wanna crash at ours? It’s not far from here and I’m sure a warm apartment beats that shitty pilots shelter.” Her smile still unwavering.
“Oh no I couldn't possibly impose like that, and plus the shelter isn't all bad. We have bread this week!” You nervously chuckle, breaking eye contact with her and pulling yourself further into your protective ball.
She stands up with a grunt and takes a step closer to you, hand outstretched. “Sweetie that shelter is fucking awful and you wouldn't be imposing one bit. If anything, knowing a pretty pilot is all alone when she could have been warm and safe with us would be far far worse.”
You look up at her, a deep blush growing on your face at her words. “No point in arguing with someone that has clearly made up their mind!” you rationalise before grabbing her hand as she pulls you up off the dirty floor. Her arm immediately links into yours and she pulls you forwards out onto the sidewalk with her, the contact not helping the blush still visible on your face.
“Name’s Artemis by the way.”
You nod and whisper back to her, “I uh, don't have one yet…”
She smiles “I know sweetie, don’t worry you’ll get there.”
~~~
A short walk later you find yourself standing in front of a door for the second time in a few hours. Artemis fumbles through a key chain trying to find the right one to give her access to the apartment and quietly cursing under her breath. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, hoping that going through this door goes a lot better than the last one.
“Ah there we go!” Artemis finally finds the right key as the door clicks open and she gestures for you to head inside.
You shuffle your way through the door and into the dimly lit room. Looking around the sparse area in front of you is comforting. A small living room with a couch against the far wall and a small table covered in various bowls and glasses greets you. The low warm lights a welcome change from the bright florescents of the last room you entered tonight.
“Home!” The woman behind you yells out into the apartment.
“Yay!” an excited voice calls back from what you assume is the bedroom.
Turning towards the noise in time you see a short woman come skipping through the doorway. Her long blonde hair bouncing everywhere as she collides with Artemis and wraps her into a deep hug.
“Missed you so much Arty.” She mumbles into Artemis’s chest, you blush and look away. The display of sisterly love something entirely foreign to you.
“Missed you too sis, sorry I took so long. Our games went a little long.” Artemis wraps her sister up in her arms, a smirk crossing her face as she makes eye contact with you. “I brought home a stray to make it up to you though.”
You don’t know why but being spoken about like this causes your face to heat up. You almost speak up to protest but the smaller woman beats you to it.
“Oh yea? You win her in a bet or something?” She giggles to herself, Artemis rolls her eyes.
“No you dork, She’s just been decommissioned.” her voice falling on a more gentle tone.
“Oh…”
The smaller woman untangles from the hug and hops over towards you, her oversized sweater bouncing as she does.
“Hi! I’m Chloe, really nice to meet you and...I’m sorry” Her voice is utterly sincere.
You don’t really know what you were expecting. A part of you is screaming to leave while you still can, you just met these people and you’re already in their home, it’s stupid to feel safe just because they’re like you. A larger part of you is just tired, tired and happy to be in a warm building for once. They’re both being so nice to you and you can’t tell if it’s some sort of ploy, all of your training is telling you it’s a trap. That the moment you let your guard down it’s over. You are frozen in between these thoughts, starring down at the floor wishing you could curl up and hide.
“She’s been staying at the shelter so I figured we could give her a warm bed, and maybe you can show her your setup?” Artemis’s gentle voice bounces around the mostly empty room.
“Yea?”
“Mhm, She’s like you.” Artemis smirks, her arms wrapping around Chloe from behind. “Misses her cockpit so much it hurts.”
She plants a kiss on her younger sisters cheek, a strange feeling bubbles up in your stomach and you try your best to look away. Blood rushing to your ears. Their actions feel entirely too intimate for you to be watching. It reminds you of the way some of the other pilots would blow of steam with each other, something you were never allowed to participate in. Instead you had to sit by and try to interpret the lingering looks and acts of affection between squad mates. But these two were sisters, it can’t be like that. You must be misinterpreting again, and it’s not like you really know how siblings are meant to interact anyway.
“C’mon cutie, bedroom’s through here.” Chloe gestures to one of the two doors.
“Oh uh, I’ll be ok on the couch.” You try and argue.
“No no you need a proper bed, we are not letting you sleep on that shitty couch.” She counters back, her tone more serious now.
“Seriously I’ll be fine, anything is better than those shelter beds.” You joke, trying to diffuse the tension you’re suddenly feeling.
“I could make her?” Artemis says casually to the both of you.
“Wah?” Is all you can manage in response.
Her comment catches you off guard, the words setting off some ingrained training deep within you. Adrenaline starting to surge through you as you try and decide between fight or flight. Artemis cracks a smile at you, her posture straightening up as she takes a few steps towards you.
“Attention pilot!” She barks at you.
The words immediately stop you in your tracks. The survival training instantly breaking away, your muscles tense and you stand as tall as you can. You know you don’t have to, only your handler could force you to obey but some part of you wants to listen. You could easily just ignore the command and turn around to leave, you’re pretty sure they wouldn't even stop you if you tried hard enough. But the warm building. The promise of a soft bed. People like you. It’s all too much to resist and so you let yourself fall back on your training. You give up your control and accept that maybe they do just want to help.
“Combat report came back pilot.” Her voice loud enough to command but still holding a gentle tone. “Your neural reactivity is all over the place and your sync is way down. Starting immediately you’re grounded until you get some proper rest.”
“B-but…” you stammer in response.
“This is not a request pilot. You will follow us to our quarters and you will rest until these readings improve, is that understood?”
“Yes ma’am.” You whisper.
Before anything else can be said Chloe grabs a hold of your arm and begins leading you towards the bedroom. Artemis follows up directly behind you both as you walk through the door. The room itself is tiny, a large bed is squished into one corner barely leaving enough space for the basket of clothes on the floor next to it. Thick curtains cover the tiny window and a string of lights trace around the four walls, a soft purple glow emitting from them. The bed is covered in blankets and plush toys, a small nest of them built up in the corner with an open laptop sitting there.
Chloe begins to move the laptop and clear a space on the bed while Artemis begins to search through the clothes in the basket. Satisfied with her work, Chloe craws back towards your side of the room and wordlessly slips behind you, grabbing the zipper at the back of your flight suit. You reach up in a panic but Artemis takes your hands in hers, a warm smile across her face as she tells you that it’s ok. The sound of the zipper being undone fills the room as your flight suit drops to the floor around you. Before you can really react to the warm air on your skin fabric is pulled over your head. Suddenly you are covered in an old band shirt that is way too big for you. It hangs off your form and extends down to your knees.
Artemis gestures for you to hop on the bed and you follow without complaint, climbing into the puddle of toys and blankets. She climbs in after you, squeezing herself against the wall while Chloe fiddles around under the bed. After a short pause she pops back up with something metal held in her hands.
“Arty said you missed being in a cockpit.” Her voice is gentle as she stares down at the object in her hand. “This really helps me when I’m missing Drifter…Do you trust me?”
You look up at her in the dimly lit room, her expression is tough to read, her eyes starring deep into yours as they look for an answer. You nod. She continues to stare into you for a moment before smiling, her posture relaxing slightly as she does. She crawls forward, kneels down onto the bed, and pulls you up into a sitting position in front of her. Artemis grabs your hair and pulls it off the back of your neck as Chloe reaches around you. You feel the cold touch of metal on your upper back for a brief moment before there is a heavy “click” and you feel your neural ports fill up, causing you to gasp and flinch. For a brief moment expect to be connected to another mind...but nothing happens. Looking up at Chloe in confusion you see her move her hands around to the front of your neck and hear another “click” as more metal clasps around your neck.
Reaching up to investigate you find a collar wrapped around your neck. Confusion evaporates from your body as you recognise the design as an older form of neural spike, the collar designed to keep the ports connected during the intensity of piloting. Later models of both mechs and spikes evolved past the need for such a thing.
“It doesn't connect to anything unfortunately but, it helps me when I’m missing her. I know it isn’t the same as what you would have had but I hope it helps... at least a little.” Chloe speaks almost away from you, her voice shaking slightly.
“It feels…” you take a long moment to concentrate on the feeling, a feeling you’ve been desperately missing. “…It feels really nice”
“Good, then lets both of you get some sleep ok?” Artemis speaks for the first time in a while from behind you.
Strong arms wrap around your waist from behind you as Artemis pulls you under the blankets and firmly into a tight cuddle. Chloe fiddles around with a speaker for a brief moment before snuggling up into the front of you. Her hand resting on the back of your head as she gives you a few gentle pats. Muffled sounds begin to play out into the room, gentle and distant. It starts to envelop you, the loud engineering noises of a workshop dampened by the thick armour of a cockpit. The gentle breathing of the two sisters joins the symphony and for the first time in over a week sleep comes easy.
~~~
A shifting disturbs you, movement across from you drawing you to consciousness. You open your eyes and find yourself still in the dimly lit room. Your back pressed tightly into the warm body behind you and your face resting gently against the chest of the girl in front of you. Blood rushed to your face as you become more aware of the situation. You remember falling asleep pressed between the two sisters. You attempt to wriggle slightly but you are only met with the arms around your waist holding you tighter with a sleepy groan.
“Morning pilot.” A gentle whisper comes from above you.
You look up to see Chloe’s face smiling down at you, her hair a mess and her eyelids half open.
“Enjoying the view?” She says with a giggle.
Your face heats up even more in response. You want to hide but the two bodies pressed against you have you trapped, leaving you with one option. You push your face further into her chest in a desperate attempt to hide from her gaze. Her giggles intensify as you do, her hand covering her mouth in an attempt to not wake up her sister.
“Fuck you are adorable.” She whispers between laughter.
You let out a half groan half whimper. It is far too early in the morning to be experiencing such an onslaught. Her arms move to wrap you up further in her embrace, her form enveloping most of you. Her sister sleepily holding the rest of you.
“Chloe…” you mumble into her chest.
“Yea?”
“You and Artemis are close right?” You pull your head from her chest to meet her eyes.
She stares back at you for a moment, considering the question. “Well yea, we spent years with our thoughts in each others brains. Can’t get much closer than that.”
“Right...I-Uh, What is that like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well it just seems...I never really- I wasn’t like- I dont know, having a sister to look out for you seems really nice…” You barely manage to choke out the words, too embarrassed to meet her eyes.
She doesn't respond for a moment. Her eyes scan up and down your face. You begin to worry you said something wrong, the intense expression scrawled across her face difficult for you to read. After what feels like forever the look breaks and her lips curl into a smile.
“I could show you.” Her voice barely a whisper.
She shuffles closer towards you, a feat you thought would be impossible. Her face close enough to yours you can feel the heat on your cheeks. Her eyes again scanning your face.
“Do you trust me...sis?” Her hot breath brushes against your lips.
Her eyes pierce through you as you let out a shaky breath, your stomach feels like it’s being flipped around a million times. Her body is pressed against yours, the warmth is so inviting. The warmth surrounding you has you feeling as safe as 100 tons of armour used to, it feels like nothing can go wrong. You nod.
She closes the remaining distance between you in an instant. Her lips collide with yours hard, the softest attack you’ve ever felt. Her hand reaches up to cup your face and you feel a strange warmth spreading through your body. You don't know how long it’s been when she finally pulls away, a gentle whine chasing her lips as they leave.
“How was that?” She teases.
Feeling confident for the first time in weeks you close the distance again, clumsily pressing your lips against hers. The warmth of her embrace something you’re beginning to crave. A small moan vibrates against your lips catching you by surprise. Your second ever kiss proving to be even better than the first, even though you have no idea what you’re doing. Movement stirs behind you, the hands wrapped around your stomach grab you tighter as you feel hot breath on your neck.
“Mmmm baby, are you playing with our pilot without me?” Artemis speaks up from behind you, her voice groggy.
You freeze for a moment, unsure how to respond. Pulling back you look towards Chloe, a grin growing across her face as she props herself up on her elbow.
“Oh hi sis. Our little pilot here wanted to know what having a sister was like.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Artemis giggles. “And so you stuck your tongue down her throat huh?”
“Geez sis it’s not like she’s actually related to me.” Chloe's eyes roll as she speaks.
“Not like that would ever stop you, freak.”
Artemis pushes you flat onto the bed, her strong arms holding you down as she leans over and kisses her sister. The two of them making out above you while you’re pinned to the bed, each of them moaning gently into the others mouth. You’re transfixed, starring at the two of them above you as a deep blush grows across you. Your heart pumping faster and faster. Their kiss finally breaks leaving them both out of breath. Both of their attentions now turning towards you.
“Arty, I think our pilot is feeling left out.” Chloe’s says with an exaggerated pout.
“Aw I think you’re right.” Artemis giggles.
They both descend on you, a pair of lips meeting with yours. A much more aggressive kiss than the first few. More lips land at your neck causing you to moan into the tongue currently exploring your mouth. Legs start to straddle your hips, a hand grabbing your hair as your mouth is mapped of every detail. A second body pulls in close to your side, her hands wandering under the baggy shirt you’re still wearing. The warm touch of fingers across your bare skin causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach. A hand starts to dance at the edge of your panties, teasing the fabric. You have no idea whose hand belongs to who and you don’t care. Something deep is bubbling up inside you, a burning desire you can’t help but feed.
“P-please.” You manage to squeak out.
Lips slam back into you preventing you from saying anything else. The hands roaming your body climb up towards your chest, teasing circles being drawn around your tits. Another hand finally dips below the line of your panties and between your thighs. Your hips buck and shake in response, the mass of sensory inputs overwhelming your system. Your hands grip the sheets around you in an attempt to ground yourself, the attacks against you only getting more intense.
“She looks so pretty like this.” A voice reaches your ears, you can’t tell whose.
“Fuck sis we might just have to keep her.”
More words are said but it all becomes just noise to you. Every touch and kiss and bite and pinch just pushes you further away from composure. You buck your hips further into the hand between your legs, begging for more friction. The hands against your chest squeeze and pinch at your sensitive skin. A mouth planting rough kisses up your neck and across your jaw. The tongue dancing across your lips still conquering your mouth.
You feel a pressure building across your system. A feeling you’d only get after tearing apart an enemy with your claws. The pressure building as if you’re deploying countermeasures to perfectly counter an attack against you. You body vibrating like you just emptied a mag into an exposed cockpit. Noises you’d only make after tearing apart an entire squadron without a scratch on you. You feel stuck in a feedback look and nothing can save you, you’re burning up without a chance of being saved.
Teeth pierce the skin on your neck and a critical mass is reached. You tense and curl as something fires through you like plasma. Everything that had been building comes crashing down as you groan into the girl above you. A tidal wave of pleasure and agony coiling and crashing down upon you. Your body bucking wildly into the warm bodies holding you down.
Eventually the fire raging through you burns itself down into an ember. You take a breath for what feels like the first time in hours. You finally open your eyes again to see the sisters moving into more comfortable positions. Chloe pulls you towards her chest, her arms and legs wrapping you into a warm embrace. Artemis closes in from your front, closing the trap around you. Their hands gently caressing you as you come down from whatever was just done to you.
You smile and nuzzle your head as deep into the chest in front of you as you can. Tension that had been crushing you all but evaporated now as you feel the two bodies protecting you like armour. A gentle kiss is placed on your forehead and a voice vibrates through you.
“Rest up pilot, you’re safe here.”
You still don’t know what the future holds for you. You don’t know what you are or what you’ll do.
But right here right now, maybe you want to find out.
~~~
ko-fi
any support appreciated, especially nice comments <3
Last time I visited my gf I "charged" her ten kisses for something, and she straddled me, pulled me in and started making out with me for like 15 seconds before pulling back and saying "one" and I didnt even have time to fully process the implications before she was back in for the second kiss and uh... well I dont remember much of the next 10 minutes other than an overwhelming sense of happiness and my face burning red >/////<
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Last time I visited my gf I "charged" her ten kisses for something, and she straddled me, pulled me in and started making out with me for like 15 seconds before pulling back and saying "one" and I didnt even have time to fully process the implications before she was back in for the second kiss and uh... well I dont remember much of the next 10 minutes other than an overwhelming sense of happiness and my face burning red >/////<
Last time I visited my gf I "charged" her ten kisses for something, and she straddled me, pulled me in and started making out with me for like 15 seconds before pulling back and saying "one" and I didnt even have time to fully process the implications before she was back in for the second kiss and uh... well I dont remember much of the next 10 minutes other than an overwhelming sense of happiness and my face burning red >/////<
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