[SIDESTORY] Morbit Oneshots (18+)

[skinstealer]

Truce - 2021
Ringor Mortis + B. Comorant, Punch Clock Animal/General Morbit
CW: Mentions of child abuse, physical abuse, extremely vague + brief implications of sexual abuse, violence
Bucket nurses Bazil back to health.

---

“I don't need you to take care of me." Bazil growled at the dog in front of him, half of his body covered in blood-soaked bandage wraps and bruises. "Chelsea may like it when you play nurse for her, but I don't need to be fussed over."

"You're currently injured beyond the threshold I can safely heal you. You absolutely do need help."

"Just wait until Chelsea's back, or Derry, or god knows whoever else. You like Harvey, right? Wait for her." He avoided making eye contact, looking less angry and more ashamed than anything. "You don't need to look at me like this."

"I want you to suffer the least amount possible. Please let me help you."

"And what'd that entail? Carrying me around everywhere? Feeding me? I'd just feel like...I don't know, just...fuck."

"We can compromise something here. I don't understand why this has to be so difficult though."

"Maybe I don't want you looking at me after Spit kicked my shit in, alright?!" Bazil bared his teeth a little, stopping as soon as he realized what he was doing. "...sorry. Said I wouldn't do that anymore on my last visit."

"I promise you I don't think of you any less. My odds in your situation would not be better."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"What do you mean?"

"Saying you wouldn't fare better than me against Spit." He scoffed, looking up at them now. "You don't have to stick around in a weak body like this."

"I don't think Spit would let me stay this strong."

"Definitely not, but you've still got all your...magic...shit. Mine doesn't do shit against her. You...wouldn't know what it's like to be completely helpless against her. " His breath caught a little, which he did his best to cover up as a growl. "Fuck."

"If I had any chance against her I would be more direct."

"I'm not saying you have any chance of killing her- you don't. No one does. But...I don't know, alright?" He tried to stand up and fell right back down into the chair, wincing.

"Please take it slow right now..."

"...fine. Fine. Just...don't baby me, alright? If you're going to have to nurse me back to health or whatever, do it with some dignity."

"I'll treat you as I would anyone on the battlefield."

"...Dignity, not get all stuffy about it. Sheesh." He rolled his eyes. "Where are you starting first, anyway?"

"Depends, where does it hurt most?"

"I feel like I got hit by one of Spit's trucks a couple times over, everywhere."

"I will start with a light healing then, just to make the pain more manageable. Where would it be okay to place my hands?"

"Shoulders. Same as always."

They nodded and did so. A light glow emitted from the dog's palms as the pain seemed to ease up a noticeable amount. "Don't have enough in me to fix all of it right now but... this should be good enough to matter I hope."

Flashes of violence shot through the dog's mind, pierced by Bazil's screams. The karacel gritted his teeth slightly at first, exhaling as the pain let up bit by bit. "...it'll do...you're getting better at doing it in a way that doesn't freak me the fuck out, at least."

"Did it startle you before?"

"You know how I feel about touch. Not exactly used to it from anybody but the grand high bitch herself."

"I'm sorry your experiences have been... terrible to put it bluntly."

"Yeah, well...yeah." He leaned back a bit, not moving away from their hands yet. "You're not terrible at it, though. Not like you're rough or anything, and you know not to make any sudden movements or shit like that by now."

"I try to be. Even if you don't want to be around me more than you have to, I hope your experiences feel at the very least safe."

"Don't put it like that, you make me sound like an asshole."

"Didn't mean to frame it like that but... I imagine there's a few things you'd rather."

"...you're not as bad as I used to think you were."

Their ears perked up. "Something change your mind?"

"I'm tired of holding a grudge, and you're actually showing some kind of an effort to understand our whole deal instead of acting like Chelsea's the only important thing to you. I don't like how close you are to Derry and I don't understand that, and I still think the fact that you're pursuing a relationship in general is fucking stupid and dangerous, but you're trying."

"I'll... take that I suppose. How are you feeling?"

"Better...your hands are still on my shoulders, though." He raised a brow. "Pretty sure you said you're out of juice."

The dog pulled their hands away. "Sorry... this is as much as I can do for now."

"It...actually helped." There was almost the hint of a smile on his face. "Almost makes me feel like I didn't get the shit beat out of me. Physically, anyway."

"Good... I'll do a second session once I've built up the strength for it. If you don't mind of course."

"Yeah, yeah...I know how magic goes. I run out of steam early on fighting Spit every time...never even last a full round."

"My healing is a little different, it runs on my own physical state. I'm transferring healthy material to replace the damaged stuff."

"...You're using your own body to heal me?"

"Mm."

“I knew you took the pain, but I didn't know you...used your own health like that." He exhaled. "Now I feel worse for giving you shit about it. Why the hell'd you go and do something like that for me?"

"I'm generally pretty healthy so it's all recovered with some rest. That said I normally only tend to small wounds so this is admittedly a little more work."

"A little. Don't bullshit me."

"I'm not extending past my limits."

"But you're getting close to them, aren't you? Be straight with me."

"Nothing irreversible."

Bazil narrowed his eyes. "Bucket."

"It'll heal."

"Then so will I. On my own."

“I mean... you really would benefit from another day of treatment."

"And you'd benefit from not wasting your own strength on me!"

"I want to heal you."

"Why? Why is that so important to you, because it's Chelsea's body too?" A twinge of anger slipped into his voice before he could stop it.

"Because I don't want to see anyone suffer like this under Spit. Because it's all I can do to defy Spit."

"Then it's not about me, it's about just getting back at her, and while I get that, and I can kind of get behind that, I don't want to just be something to take pity on because I get the shit kicked out of me."

"I don't want to see you in pain either. I consider you one of the very few allies I have in here."

"Is that because of me, or is it just because of proximity, though?"

"Both."

He scoffed a bit, glancing away. "Least you're honest. I would have called bullshit if you just said the former."

"It's the only answer you'll accept."

"I said I was tired of holding a grudge and I meant it, and I appreciate how much effort you're putting into understanding this mess with us- but it's still hard to believe that you'd actively choose to hang out with me if given the option. And if you would, for some godforsaken reason, I don't know if I can trust that those reasons are rational, or that you're assuming I'm some kind of person that I'm not."

"I'd just like to be at the very least friends with you."

"I want to know your reasons why first. Why me specifically."

"Because I sense that you are... perhaps not a soft person, but certainly not as rough as you make yourself out to be. You also were no slouch against Matthias."

"...tch." Bazil tilted his head back over the slightest bit, looking a little less aggravated. "Maybe I'm not as opposed to being friends as I make myself out to be either."

The dog's ears perked up. "Are you implying you're thinking of it?"

"Yeah, well...your reasons hit a little closer to home than I was expecting, and you're kind of the inverse. You're reckless when it comes to a lot of things, but I can respect that to a degree, and you know where to hit where it hurts when the time comes for it. You're...strong. But I don't want you using up that strength on me the way you're doing it if you're just going to hit your limit! Like, god, Bucket, come on! Have some respect for yourself!"

"I'm gauging how much I need. I can share some of my strength with you and survive."

"It's not about surviving! I don't want you to just survive! You deserve better than that-" He stopped himself, looking a bit embarrassed. "...well, you do. You shouldn't push yourself to the brink just because you can."

"You're worried about my health like this?"

"...Yeah."

"... I appreciate that. I still would like to treat you but if you are so worried, I'll be more cautious."

"You better." He stretched a little, wincing. "...If you're legitimately feeling better tomorrow, like, actually better, I'll let you do a bit more."

"I assure you I am accounting for my own health and I will be a tad more careful if it'll make you feel more confident in it."

"Thank you. I'm not used to worrying about people, don't make me have to do it more than I have to."

"I'll try not to be a daredevil."

"Now that we've established you aren't going to do anything stupid and that we're going to attempt to be friends, then...what do you…do with your friends, I guess."

"What do you mean by that?"

"What do you personally end up doing with people you call your friends? I don't have a hell of a lot of frames of reference here for myself."

"It really depends I suppose. It can really go wherever you want it to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's all within your boundaries."

"I don't really know my boundaries, aside from...well, I guess I know what I really don't like, but I don't know what I do."

"You don't have anything you like to do?"

"I get time to myself inside or I get time with Spit. Time alone, I guess I spend training...but I'm not in any state to do that now."

"What would be the next best thing that's possible?"

"...do you know how to use other magic techniques other than healing?"

"I'm a very capable illusionist."

"I mean with other scrap types, not just the uh...one you're good with. Would you be able to show me any tricks?"

"Perhaps? Do you have something in mind?"

"I can't spar with you when I'm trapped on bedrest, but...I can still move my hands a little bit, and I've got our scraps with the rest of our stuff by the door."

"Mm... I can do that much. What would you like to practice then?"

"All I can really do is shock people and send shockwaves through things, and while that's...I mean, it gets the job done, I want to be able to do more. I feel like shock scraps should be able to do more than that, but I don't...exactly have the kind of creative head for this kind of thing."

"I can play with the mind to the point of convincing people they're dead should I wish."

"Yeah, but can mine do something like that?"

"No... not in the same way I imagine."

“Not exactly, but...can I get something creative like that, do you think? Like, how far can I push shock?"

"There's ways to make some utility out of it, I can certainly tutor you there."

"Then I want to do that."

"Mm.. what brings this up out of curiosity?"

"You asked me what the next best thing was. I want to get better at magic, and you're the best teacher I can get, alright?"

"Then I can do that... I'm curious though, do you think of me that highly as a sorcerer?"

"I've seen what you can do to people. Maybe I want to be able to do that, or at the very least get on that level. So...I want you to teach me. We can start our friendship or whatever there."

 "I accept this."

"Then where do we start? How do I take my shock magic from basic attacks to actually doing some weird shit to people?"

"When you really look at the properties of such closely I suppose. It's a conductive energy source, and that's important to consider."

He nodded, listening closely. "I don't know a whole lot about the science end of things, but I can follow that much."

"If you know what burns, conducts, and shatters on impact, you can greatly extend the utility. It's also a lot of being aware of surroundings."

“Ugh...guess I better hit some books when I'm able, or at the very least do some experimenting, then. I know a lot of basics at this point, but there's still some times where I go to shock something and nothing happens."

"Rubber perhaps?"

"Maybe, yeah...I mean, I learned that one quick. Fucking annoying."

"Oh? When did that come up?"

"Some guy we were tasked to chase down must have been wearing some. Couldn't stun him for shit."

"Wonder what circumstances result in someone wearing a rubber suit..."

"Some kind of work gear, I guess...more like an overalls deal."

"Does make sense then... do you have any abilities besides shocking?"

"I can use Spit's flesh manipulation, but I refuse to unless I absolutely have to. Shit's nasty. I think I can do more with the shock scraps, I just...don't know how. Like, I wonder if I can do shock, the emotion, or something, or if that's a whole different type..."

"Shock, the emotion?"

"Yeah, like...if I could make you feel shock."

"Jolting someone would certainly shift some moods."

"...good point, I guess electrifying them kind of induces it already. Shit. I thought I was being clever."

"I do not know if any types can function in a manner that applies a element of double meaning like so."

"Yours are so flexible, though...and your scrap form, that can do so much. I haven't even begun to figure out mine yet, even Chelsea's figured out hers."

"I don't think I've ever seen yours."

“That's because I don't...have one. I can't seem to make it work."

"I must ponder if it'd lean more cat or pockitt..."

"It better lean the latter, but I better not be short, either! I'm gonna be pissed if I'm short." Bazil huffed, crossing an arm across his chest. "...you wouldn't know any tricks for that either, would you? I mean, if the whole shock scrap thing looks like we're gonna hit a big fucking rubber wall."

"Finding your scrap form? It's something that requires either emotional intensity or training beyond the normal routine to be honest."

"Emotional intensity....I'm emotionally intense all the time! If it was about emotional intensity, I'd have found it a million times over by now! The whole reason why I get triggered out is because of being emotionally intense!"

"More than usual, a pinch state where the candle feels on its last sparks."

"I don't know if it's possible then, I've been pushed to the fucking brink of death before and nothing's happened."

"To be quite honest it works differently for everyone so... your condition may be something drastically different."

"Give me examples. Specifics. What works for people?"

"Training, self discovery, intensive drive toward ambitions, sometimes simply luck...."

"No, like, scenarios. Examples of people you know, stories, or just...make shit up that sounds right."

"I had a mentor who worked me until I coughed blood. That's my story."

"...sorry." He looked embarrassed for asking, not sure what to say in response to that.

"Nothing to apologize over. I am honestly surprised that you haven't unlocked your scrap form by now though."

"Maybe it's just...emotions I don't usually experience, or some shit." His face fell at that, looking more despondent than anything. "Which means I'm kind of shit out of luck- just my luck if that's the case. Figures that I'd get some kind of scrap form that first unlocks when I'm like...happy, or something."

"It doesn't need to be joy necessarily but.. there's a likelihood. The alternative could be the condition you're in when you front. A body that's in rough shape may make it straining to enter."

His eyes were filled with determination all of a sudden at that. "So if I'm fixed up better, I have better chances?"

"Possibly? You're usually fronting while the body has just endured something extremely painful so... maybe. Why?"

"...I'll stop fighting you on the rest of the treatment stuff, then. Even...the bath stuff you usually have to do with Chelsea when she gets here, if it means I get a chance at unlocking this. I just...I really want to know what it is. I know I could be disappointed, and it could be horrible, and it could suck just as much as my body inside, but I want to know. I want to be stronger."

Bucket took his words in, nodding slowly. "I will do my best to help you experience entering a scrap form."

"Let's do this, then. I'm grimy as hell and the longer we wait on the bath the more likely I am to freak out and back out last second. Just don't think of me as Chelsea and don't try anything weird."

"I will try my best, but pardon me if I blush at any point."

"Pardon me if I end up biting your hand, then." He raised a brow. "Same body or not, there's nothing about me worth blushing over. Just remember that."

"I try to focus on your unique expressions and voice as best I can to separate you two mentally if it's worth anything."

"Good." He paused for a second, grimacing. "...You're gonna have to carry me, aren't you."

"Likely, yes."

He closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them, the determination just as present as before. "Alright. For the scrap form."
 

---

Bazil sat grumpily in the tub, crossing his arm over his chest and looking completely out of place amongst the bubbles.

"Is the water alright?" Bucket's eyes were turned away, blatantly trying to minimalize how much they looked at him.

"It's fine. All we get at Spit's is cold, and dirty too, so...improvement." A rogue bubble floated onto his nose and he sneezed, sounding uncharacteristically like a kitten. "Fuck."

"....Was that you?"

"No." He lied.

"Hmm..."

"I don't sneeze like that."

"There's only two people in the room and it certainly wasn't me."

"Probably a ghost or something. This place is definitely haunted."

"By a sneezing cat."

"...yes."

"Someone get this ghost tissues."

He smirked, unable to help himself. "Poor bastard's got a cold."

"May God have mercy on their sick little soul."

"Hey, my soul isn't lit-" He realized his mistake, shutting up immediately.

A grin grew across the dog's face.

"Shut up."

"I did not say anything."

"You were thinking smarmy thoughts loud enough for the whole mansion to hear."

"Perhaps."

"It was a fluke. Everybody does shit like that sometimes." He huffed, but couldn't shake off the tiniest bit of a smile from earlier.

"I won't tell on you... but I will remember this for a good while."

"Ugh. Don't you dare hold this against me."

"I won't. For now."

"Your secret bastard side emerges." He splashed a little water up at them, not enough to do much more than a little spritz.

They shook it off, still smiling. "Your own secret to carry with you."

 "Guess we've both got something on each other, huh?" He settled back down, letting them get back to cleaning him up with as little resistance as he could possibly muster.

They tried to make things quick to be easy on him. "Guess so.... you can ask me questions about anything since we are exchanging hidden knowledge."

"Anything, huh..." He thought to himself, trying to figure something out. "Tell me about the thing with your mentor. About getting your scrap form."

"Originally my mother was my mentor getting into knighthood but... we had a few too many clashes so I finished my training with her sister. She was... easier to work with in some was but harsher in others. Still I owe a lot of my knowledge of the job to her, as well as my own fiendish nature. Both were pivotal to understand for me to gain my form."

"Guessing the harsh part lead to the whole coughing blood thing."

"I was not allowed to take my exam to become my knight nor given shelter until I had my scrap form down once we got to that part of training."

"So what, you were just kicked out into the wild?"

"Yes."

"Can't say that I like your aunt much, gotta say."

"She can be.... hard, yes. But in the end I gained amazing control over my abilities as a sensitive and a fiend."

"Yeah, but...how old were you, even?"

"Old enough to pick up a sword."

"Where we come from that doesn't mean shit."

"15. We trained for five years."

"Young enough for me to call bullshit on her. I don't like adults who fuck over kids, especially not when they're supposed to be family."

"Mm... honestly as hard as my mother could be, it was nothing by comparison."

He fell quiet, thinking it over. "I don't...remember our own parents much. Feels weird even calling them "our", like I have some kind of right to them. But I don't think they were too good either, or we wouldn't have ended up in this mess with Spit, right?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. They're dead as shit by now."

"I forget how old you all are..."

"What, it freak you out at all?"

"Not really. I've got quite a bit more that should scare you off."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm... my kind can shift into giant monsters, spin webs, breathe elements, drink the blood of others to steal their form, and glare directly at one's soul. "

"Oh yeah? Why don't you do any of that?"

"Age froze before some of these skills developed fully... I can do the last two fine however. I can also spit web but I'm not much of a weaver..."

"You keep proving me more and more wrong every time we meet, I guess."

"Oh?"

"I used to think you were just some pushover who was making a big fucking mistake for no good reason."

"I just play things close to the vest including my image. Rein would not be happy if I made these particular aspects public knowledge."

"Yeah, well...color me surprised that you're more hardcore." He smiled, just a bit more. "...Maybe us being friends isn't as far fetched as I thought."

"I'm liking the idea... you do not mind that I could cocoon a person in their sleep and drain out all their fluids?"

"Nah. That helps more."

"Oh? Really now?"

"I feel better around people who aren't afraid of getting their hands dirty and embracing it when they need to."

"Perhaps then I'll demonstrate these talents some time."

"You better." He looked down at himself. "Talking kind of helps take my mind off this...thanks."

"Mind off what?"

"The whole...bath thing. I was nervous about it considering the only other person who's seen me like this is...yeah. Enough said there."

"Ah... we're almost done, so it'll be over soon. I am glad to have made it easier for you though."

"If you're willing to talk with me like this...I'll let you do this again. IF I can't do it for myself. If."

"Mm. If."

"Yeah. Big emphasis there, I can take care of myself otherwise...but I appreciate it." He held out a hand, still sudsy. "We shook on a truce back during the Matthias thing, but...maybe we can do it again. This time to being friends, or trying anyway."

They took his hand. "I want this to go well. I think it will."

"Yeah...but also, if you tell anyone I was a sap about this, I'm denying it."

"Nobody will ever know."

"On the record, I was an asshole the whole time."

"Acknowledged."

"Deal."